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#andy left me on read LOL
eddie-rifff · 1 month
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uncommon opinion. ant phillips is the swaggiest member of genesis
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youaremyhome · 1 year
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The Antimatter of You
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Warnings: Dark!Rafe Cameron x Reader, 18+ NSFW, smut, HEAVY non-con/dub-con, drug use, possessive behavior, blackmail, manipulation, DARK. More to add. Read at your own risk!
Notes: 4.4k!! I did it!!! I promise now that it’s summer (and getting fired from my job) I’ll have more time to write/update. Hope it lives up to the hype lol let a girl know ok love ya ❤️
Taglist: @belcalis9503 @ACRAZYBIOTCH374 @fangirlwithlou @malfoytargaryen @RAFECAMERONSBADUSSY @takin-care-of-business @watersquirtpewpewboomm @magnificantmermaid @mk15x @abbybarnesstuff @lavenderhue @dirtytomatoedwrites
Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! (And I’m sorry if I missed you, I love you)
The scent of flowers is nauseating but with a knock on your door, Rafe ignores it as best as he can.
It’s been several days since he’s seen you, the longest he’s gone without any physical contact. His texts were met with one worded replies or none at all. Having done a stellar job of avoiding him. Taking new routes to your lectures, roommates answering the door saying you weren’t home, skipping your Ethics class, the seat glaringly empty beside him.
Rafe knew to give you some space – if only for this once. The incident with you, him and Topper had shaken you greatly, no one had ever seen such an argument between the two of you. His best friend had given him a thorough tongue-lashing that morning after your exit. A reminder from Rafe about Topper’s general creepiness towards his sister had him shutting up instantly.  
Before, Rafe had believed you were slowly - but surely - getting used to him being a fixture in your life. He wasn’t stupid enough to think you were fully submitting, of course, but he knew you would be able to get there. With time.
He’s let you have your little tantrum of silence. It was a mistake to treat you so harshly, even if you had wasted a hundred dollars worth of good product.
You’re home alone today. He’s made sure of it. Camped outside your townhome for the past two hours. All your roommates had gone out for various things, filing out one by one. The only one left was the most annoying: Daniella.  
While Louise and Andi gave knowing smirks whenever the group was together, Daniella always had a strained smile. As if she struggled to let him anywhere near you.
To ensure her absence, he had recruited the help of Carson. Telling him to lure his girlfriend out so Rafe could talk to his.
He rasps on the door again, calling out your name.
“Open the door. I know you’re home.” When there’s no response, Rafe fist hits harder. “Open the damn door.”
He repeats your name multiple times as he jingles the doorknob. After a few more tries, he sighs and gives up. It didn’t have to go this way.
The click of the door is quiet, Rafe soundlessly closing it as he pockets his copy of the key. Slyly walking through the foyer, the back of your head appears when he comes into the open living room. The crinkle of plastic as his hands squeeze the stems makes your head almost fall off from how fast you look behind.
“What in the actual hell, Rafe?” Pushing off the couch, you cross your arms. A faint line creased between your eyebrows and Rafe can’t help but notice you aren’t wearing a bra. “How’d you get in here?”
“Spare.” Rafe simply says. “Y’know, just in case of an emergency.”
“Or to sneak in here like a fucking creep.”
“No…for when my girl is ignoring me.”
Rafe lifts the bouquet up, savoring how you take in the view of your favorite flowers in white and faint pink. Taking a step toward you, a minute flinch ticks at your shoulders. Rafe stops.
“Well, you can throw them in the garbage on your way out.” Your ponytail swishes when you twirl back to plant yourself on the couch. “Go away.”
“Aw c’mon baby,” Groaning, he rolls his head back. He rounds the couch, standing in front of the TV. Extending his arm out, he presents the flowers again. “How about you find a nice vase for these, and I’ll make it up to you.”
The stupid comment grants him exactly what he wants, your attention on him. Eyes like needlepoints hoping to puncture him.
“You can do so by leaving.” You turn the volume up, and you focus back on the TV.
It’s the dismissal that has Rafe’s ire prickling his skin, his patience splintering.  
“Alright, that’s enough. I gave you plenty a time to pout.”
Your lips puff with your incredulous. “Pout? Pout?” You swat at the bouquet. “I’m not pouting. I’m fucking pissed and tired of you.”
'Pissed off' he could deal with. The pouting is cute. Your tears are an intoxicating aphrodisiac. But to be tired of him?
Oh, no.
No, no, no.
Rafe squats down, supporting his forearms on his knees as he looks up at you through his lashes. Staring at the upwards angle of your face, he doesn’t have to wait long for your eyes to nervously meet his. Containing his anger has never been his forte. You simultaneously ignite his fire to a roaring inferno and wash it down until there’s only embers left. At the moment, he was between the two.
“I’m sorry, okay?” He blows out a breath. “I, I should’ve never gotten like that with you. Forgive me, angel?”
Leaning the flowers forward, the petals tap once against your bare knees. A deadlock between wills of opposing nature. Your facial expressions switch like the flipping of pages, the language of you becoming easier to understand the more time he spends with you.
“Apology unaccepted.”
Snatching the bouquet out of his grip, you stand and beeline for the kitchen. Rafe rights himself up, following you lazily. Playing his own game of shadow with each step and turn you make. Your slamming cabinets left and right until you find one beneath the sink, almost cracking the glass of a long vase with your force.
His gaze skims over the flimsy material of your sleep shorts, and the way your breasts slope beneath your tank top. Your hands busy themselves with arranging the stems and such, actively ignoring his presence. Hands in his pockets, Rafe takes measured strides until he’s a hairs length away from your back.
“…I never got my hello kiss.”
Your glare radiates so potently that Rafe doesn’t have to look to know it's there. Placing his hands on your hips, he walks the tips of his fingers inward and smirks when a quiver to your lower belly ripples across. Lips kiss at the tension in your shoulders, thumbs molding like dough into your sides.
“I’ve missed you…” His tongue peaks out, tasting the skin there. A hand travels down to play with the waistband of your shorts. “Missed this cunt, too.”
“Rafe – wait,” The hitching of your breath is so sweet he cups you in his wide hand in a fluid downslide. The pinching pain of your nails into his wrists has him stilling, lingering. Your neck stretches as you look back as your features pinch in. “I’m…I’m on my…y’know, period.”
He wants to believe you – truly he does – but lies spill from those pretty lips all the time so…
Frustrated whimpers break loose between your bitten lip while Rafe continues down, your head leaning on his shoulder in defeat. Swirling the tip of his middle finger closer to your hole, the touch of roped cotton has him pausing. A string.
Damn it.
Rafe sighs and trails up your slit to lightly stroke your clit once more before he’s slipping his hand out, keeping it low on your warm pelvis. It rises a rumbled chuckle from him, peering down at your weak glare. This close to your face, he can see all the small imperfections that add to the mosaic of your beauty. Gliding his other hand up, he passes a ghost of a touch to your chest before it lands with a curl around your throat. The addition of it pushes you fully into perfection.
Humming and eyes hooded, Rafe draws out a peck to your lips. The warm, soft contact is barely a kiss, just a need to feel you closer that has Rafe relaxing a fraction. “C’mon then.”
Leading you back to the couch, you resume your previous seat that looks more like a nest with a bundle of blankets, a heating pad, and candy there. Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline when he lays the warmed pad on your lower abdomen, wrapping a fuzzy throw around you then tucking you under his arm, situated to lean against him. Propping his feet on the ottoman, Rafe focuses on the TV which plays some sort of reality show.
Your suspicion rises like steam, muscles strained with preparation for flight. It isn’t until halfway through the show does Rafe feel your body incrementally slacken and by the third, you’ve fallen asleep.
So, if the show happens to stay on there’s no one around to judge.
Rafe likes it when you’re asleep. Can freely stare at you without an icy sneer or bitchy remark to ruin the moment. Just a doll nuzzled deep into the side of him resonating a humming of snores.
His peace is ruined by the vibrating of his phone. He checks the screen.
Ward
With care, Rafe eases up from the couch and repositions your head so it’s against a pillow then heads into the kitchen.
Ward hardly calls him. The proportion of Rafe’s outgoing calls to him weighs heavily unanswered. Taking a deep breath, he picks up.
“Hey, Dad. What’s up?” There’s an eager edge to his question and Rafe hates it.
“Rafe, checking in to see how you doin’?” Ward’s deep timbre carries easily through the speaker.
“Good. I’m good.” Rafe looks at the back of the couch, smiling. “Yeah, I’m actually at my girl –”
“Listen, bud,” His father starts. “You got any plans for spring break? Wantcha come down so you can help me start up this new project. It’s a big one.”
Rafe pumps his fist into the air silently, excitement coloring his voice. “No, yeah, totally! I can do that. I’m up for it.”
“You sure? This is legit business and I need you to have a clear head. That means no…partying when you’re here, ‘ight? No funny stuff while we do this. Can you handle that, Rafe?”
It isn’t the serious tone of his father’s gruff voice that has his excitement evaporating. It’s the impending disappointment there like Rafe has already fucked up. Ward giving him a chance and still expecting failure in the end. A flash of hurt burns through but Rafe shakes it off, tells himself that he deserves it considering his track record.
“You can count on me, sir. I swear.”
A pause. Rafe thinks Ward might give encouraging words. A squeeze of a hand for support, words he’s heard him tell Sarah.
Only it’s: “See you soon.” And that’s that.
The dual beep from the phone lets Rafe know Ward’s hung up, just as a ‘love you’ was balancing off his tongue. He must be busy today.
“Who was that?”
Your voice rises from the couch before your head pops up, hair all fluffy and ruffled. Eyes are a bit puffy from sleep as you blink them open. The late afternoon sun creates a soft yellow hue through the windows, catching onto strands of your hair, soaking into your skin. Rafe is momentarily blinded by the view that it takes him a second to respond.  
“My dad.” Carding his fingers through his hair, Rafe smiles as the thrill returns. “He wants me to assist with a new job. This is huge for me!”
Yawning, you stretch and get up from the couch. Rafe keeps his body angled to yours, head nodding along to his babbling as you fill a glass of water.
“If he could see that I’m ready – that I’m ready to get serious, I’ll finally be a part of the Cameron legacy. My legacy. It’s about time he’s bought me into the loop…sure I’ve been tagging along since I could remember but this time, he wants my input. I’ll be able to share my ideas and he’ll have to listen.” He sighs, winded. “It’s too bad I’ll be gone for spring break –”
“Really?”
You’re at the edge of the peninsula, hip leaning against the counter as you take another sip. Your eyes shift from his to elsewhere, fingers drumming an uneven beat. Adjacent to you and with his hands braced on the counter, Rafe slides closer. Spreading his fingers apart to reach out a pinky to stroke your own.
“Don’t miss me too much.”
Scoffing, you swipe your hand away. “As if.” Your face softens a little into curiosity. “What does your dad do again?”
Shock rocks at his heart and it's damn hard to keep it in. He can count on one hand the number of times you’ve shown genuine interest in conversation with him.
“He owns a development company. Operates daily with the construction of buildings and those type of things.”
“Oh.” Your eyes are open and inviting, the slightest tilt in his direction.
Rafe steams on ahead, wanting to keep your attention. “Yeah, he started it all on his own. Born on the other side of the island. Actually made something of himself… unlike those dirty pogues down there now.”
It’s automatic to sneer out the slur. He can’t help the disgust he feels just thinking about that side of town.  
One of your eyebrows raises. “Aren’t you, like, fourth generation to attend UNC?” Your chin juts out. “Wouldn’t that mean your family has had, like enough money to go for so long?”
Rafe could crack a tooth from the grinding of his teeth. You’re not the first to connect the dots but you certainly are one of the few to vocalize it.  
“Third.” Rafe sucks his teeth in. “The Camerons may have started out on the Cut, but they grew to be more middle class. Only the truly elite are on Figure Eight.”
It infuriates him to no end of that simple fact. That just before he was born Ward was making his way through the Cut and into Figure Eight, the right side of the island. Where he – they always belonged.
Your eyes roll with a tilt of your head. “So, not really a pogue, not really a kook. Just an ordinary man like the rest of the world. Y’know, stepping on that island is like being in a fucked up alternate universe.”
“Don’t be dramatic.”
“I am not!” The stomping of your foot says otherwise. “It’s the worst place I’ve ever been.”
“It’s the best place.”
It’s amusing to watch your cheeks puff in frustration. “Only because of the little notoriety your family has there.”
A slow smirk spreads out like elastic, leaning into you. “Well, of course, sweetheart.”
With anyone else, Rafe would be squashing them beneath his shoe like a bug for a comment like that. With you, however…he finds he wants to know all your thoughts regarding him, the good and the bad. Suck in all the information he can, leach off every emotion you hold for him. The anger, the disgust, the begrudging pleasure.
At the same time, Rafe doesn’t have to hide behind a polite smile or use his charm to peruse you. He’s his real self. The most based form of a soul he struggles to hold onto. Wants to lay the shreds of his soul at your feet like a sacrifice, irrevocably intertwined together.
A peculiar look morphs on your face. Like when you’re working through a difficult assignment. Unmoving, focused but this time on him, which is extremely rare. Usually, you shield yourself away in a layer of ice that solidifies you.
“What?”
“What?” You parrot back, lashes blinking rapidly to break your connected gazes.
“What are you thinking about?” He angles his head low to follow your eyes.
Rafe half expects the typical retort of: ‘You don’t need to know all my waking thoughts.’
“Just…Doesn’t everyone on the island think he was a true pouge?”
So, you have listened to his rants before.
“People remember and think what they want to. Ward doesn’t have to answer to any of them.” His eyes narrow. “Why?”
Your fingers begin to fiddle with themselves. Twisting fingers in knots, squeezing the tips in a random pattern.
Again, he asks. “Why’re you so interested?”
“What? Now you’re gonna be mad I’m talking to you?”
Sass is a defense mechanism you use often; one Rafe finds the most annoying but just as addictive to combat with. It continues in his silent stare.
“I guess… I’m just confused why you would want to work with him so badly?” Your tone goes from curious to condescending within a blink of an eye. “If my dad treated me like that, I’d want to be as far away from him as possible.”
The straightening of his spine is immediate. “You don’t know shit about my dad.”
“Just that he treats you like shit –”
“Shut up –”
“Bet he’d love to know his only son is a psychotic rapist!”
His eyes bulge. A moment of stillness that enraptures the both of you. The bickering was reeving him up to ravish you across the countertop. Now, his mind whirls from the total 180 you’ve pulled on him. Never has he heard you utter those condemning words before. Rafe didn’t think you’d succumb to that dark truth, let alone say it out loud.
A scoff hiccups deep from his chest. “What fucking proof you got of that, sweetheart?” Shifting closer, your face pinches in as Rafe leers, “Your wet cunt cumming each time I force it in?”
It’s a low blow you take with stride, a flinch before you're sneering. “What about that little coke problem of yours?”
There.
There it is.
The real reason you’ve gone down this path of conversation. Nosing your way into things pretty girls like you shouldn’t concern yourself with. Much less with the intention set in your shoulders.
“You trying to blackmail me?” The chuckle comes low, barely a sound of amusement. “Oh, honey,” Rafe mocks. “You didn’t know he already knows?”
The façade of your bravado crumbles, a half step taken back with weary eyes. He tsks and cocks his head back, disappointed. With a sudden swing of his arm, the back of his hand knocks your glass of water to the other side of the room. The shattering of glass and your shriek harmonize, creating the perfect symphony to his sudden charging to you, arms an unknown mix until he shoves you against the wall.
Both hands hold your throat. Nails pierce his skin and scratch along the length trying to find a better leverage. The squeezing doesn’t stop until your eyes are pleading and swimming in the dark waters of fear.
“I may be a fuck up but I’m still his son.” Jerkily releasing you, your head wobbles on your neck. Hands barricading you in, Rafe lowers his head until your noses touch. Your panting breaths feed his next ones in.
“Don’t threaten me if you can’t back. It. Up!” His final warning is yelled, vibrating against your lips as his palms smack beside your head with each pointed word.
Your tears have gone unnoticed until you curl to the side and his lips taste the salty moisture upon your skin. Normally, the sight of them would soften his anger and harden his cock, leading the situation to hot make-up sex.
It isn’t enough. Not today.
Not when his future is within his grasp, his for the taking. Not with the knowledge of you trying to get rid of him, the idea as pointless as it is terrifying. Going to desperate measures when you should be desperate for him.
With a practiced move, Rafe retches your hair between tightened knuckles and pulls until your neck is a long arch and facing him. He ignores the pain-filled yelp and weak hands patting his chest.
“You want me to force you? Is that it, baby, huh?” Rafe hisses.
He hauls you down until your knees fold beneath you. A sick delight like seasickness rolls down to his groin as he growls. Weak defiance lives in your eyes, frowning with his name on your tongue. It's a tug of war between Rafe’s hand and your struggle to rise, keeping your hair taunt. It’s the sight of him unzipping his fly that has you hitting his thighs with a renewed alarm.
“Rafe! Stop it –”
“Keep fightin’ and you’re only gonna make it worse f’yourself.” Rafe warns another yank just to hear you shriek.
Fisting the base of his cock, he pulls it out through the opening. He aims for your mouth, but you cringe making the tip smear on your chin. Rafe tuts, guiding your head right where he wants, and flexes his arm, sure to hold you in place.
“C’mon n’ open up,” he drawls. “Take your punishment.”
Stroking up to the tip, his thumb sweeps along the ridge and tilts his hips forward, hovering just above those plush lips. Tapping the red flesh on your closed mouth, Rafe splays his hand on your chin and squeezes on the delicate bones until your jaw unhinges with a wail to relieve the pain.
Like a serpent striking, he’s pushing in before you can react. Bumping against the roof of your mouth, the rigids of your hard palate make him jerk with sensitivity and envelop the next few inches. The hot, wet rush has sparks crackling up his spine. All that heat and anger spirals down to his cock, the need to claim brooding in his balls. Grunting your name with each gag you give, his thumb caresses the corner of your lip as he watches enthralled.
A part of him wants to take his time. Use gentle strokes to coax your mouth open, train you with patience to swallow his cock just right.
Instead with a mean smirk, Rafe plunges half his cock in. The clenching of your throat makes it hard to go in deeper, the constriction of your resistance inflames his pleasure. The underside of his dick feels the rippling of your tongue like a wave, chasing after it eagerly. Your high-pitched whines are muffled by the weight of him, gargles of air getting blocked as he teases the opening of your throat.
“Can’t believe I’ve gone this long without fucking that mouth of yours.”
Saliva accumulates, thick and slippery as his cock triggers your gag reflex, spit dribbling down your jaw. Your drool coats him to create a smooth glide, lower abdomen tensing, and stuffing further in. Such a pretty sight seeing you like this, gurgling and coughing between the space of your cheeks and his cock. Eyelashes clumped, a darkening hue on your cheeks, small fistfuls of his jeans. Your gagging clinches your throat, locking him in tight before it flutters open.
Rafe allows you to pull back far enough to catch a breath. Coughing out into shaky inhales, lips puffy from abuse and slicked with combined spit and precum. Standing above you like this gives him the most delicious view of your stretched neck. From the tip of your chin to the swell of your cleavage in an expanse of skin that should be carved into marble.
Words tangle as you stutter and gasp, Rafe hushing you with faux tenderness. “I’m going to fuck ya throat now…”
Weaving his fingers once more into your hair, Rafe pushes back into your avoiding mouth. Your fighting ignites a primal urge of take, take, take within him. A bloating want fills his void. Sticky and black as tar that he wants to pour onto you, anoint you with his devoted desecration.
There is little mercy with the pistoling of his hips, ass clenching in pointed thrusts. Mummering encouragements of that’s it, such a good girl and various pitches of your name, Rafe feeds you his length with a fevered urgency. The squelching of his dick opening your throat layers with his low moans, watching as each inch disappears until your lips are kissing his pelvis.
His hips jerk involuntarily as a tickling of pleasure jolts him, your wet bottom lip moving on the sensitive spot just below his base and above his heavy balls. It feels so good and you’re not even actively sucking on him. Just a soft wet home for him to press in farther, another place he has laid claim to.
Fringes of hair droop between his eyes, almost hunched over as he pulls his hips to ram back in. Wet spots glisten on your chest, staining your tank top. A relentless pace fueled by rage and an ache.
“Fuck – ah – I’m gonna cum.” Rafe says hoarsely and tilts his head back if only to starve off his orgasm by looking away. “My good lil’ slut…swallow my cum.”
Angling your head up, Rafe slides his cock down all the way to the root. Grip tightening on your head, he rocks side to side to wiggle in as much as he can. You're choking helplessly as he fucks so deep, it feels like he might reach your heart. One hand skates down to your neck and palms the bulge, holding it there to experience the swell of it. Minuscule thrusts nudge the back wall of your esophagus, his thumb rubs up and down where the head sits.
The scrunching of your eyes and difficult breaths boosts his ego but he needs to see you. Needs you to see him.
“Look at me.” His fingers press in painfully. Eyes flickering half open, the devastation set in your irises kindles his breaking point. “Ugh,” he grunts your name like gravel between his teeth.
Stilling in the depths of you, Rafe cums.  
Your muscles intuitively constrict and swallow, suctioning him with hot, white pleasure. The wet of your cheeks is like velvet as you drink his cum.
Seconds or minutes pass before he loosens his hold. Loud choking fits break between your breathing once you're free from his cock, covered in a layer of drool and residual cum. Rafe pets your hair, trying to smooth out the knots he’s made.
You’re still crying as he calms down from his high, face nuzzling into his hip to hide. God, he’s going to get hard again with you looking so pathetic.
“Did you learn your lesson, pretty angel?” Dragging rough fingers through your hair, he bunches a handful and barely pulls, your neck like a snapped cord as your head flops back. An index finger tenderly traces down your cheek to your swollen lips.
“Any more empty threats and I’ll rape your mouth until you pass out.”
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chimcess · 2 months
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Waterlog || pjm (3)
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Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 12.2k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: toxic relationship (not reader and jimin), arguments, cheating (not reader and jimin), talks about previous child abuse, anxiety attack, strong language, crying, emotional abuse (not reader and jimin), talks of bad parental relationships, abandonment issues, some PTSD, prescription medication use, mentions of depression and mental health, lots of angst in this one, finally making some progress though, age insecurity, mutual pining, lots of side character development in this one, they really are so sweet together, jimin just being the nicest boy in the world, so much PDA, physical touch is his love language 👀👀👀, writing this is so comforting even when its angsty lol, i think that's it, let me know if I missed something A/N: Hello hello. Probably my favorite chapter to date. Bad news is that I think this series might be a little longer than originally intended. My inability to just get to the point has things moving a little slow, but I'm trying my best. We'll have to see, though! Hope you enjoy reading :)
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Time went by quickly. Wednesday and Friday morning, Jimin and I met up to train for a few hours and then got breakfast together. When he asked if I wanted to work out with him in the evenings, I agreed. In the beginning, I had given him pointers, but after the second week came to a close, we had started exercising in silence. We spotted one another, made small talk, and went to dinner on the nights he did not go home to be with his parents. We got along and I was happy my overwhelming attraction to him had slowly calmed down.
I was still aware of his presence, the way he smelled, and how often he smiled and laughed, but I had grown used to seeing him walking around in barely anything at all. Hoseok called me a cougar whenever we had time to chat while Andy kept telling me to talk with Jimin about how I felt, but I had gotten very good at deflecting. Things were better and I was taking my wins whenever I could get them. Even if those wins meant I went home sexually frustrated and aching for someone to make it better.
Jimin was packing up for the night and I was getting ready to head out. He had plans with a large group of his friends, so I would have to figure out dinner by myself this time. He invited me but I politely declined. I could vaguely recall how rude his friends from that restaurant had been, and that one girl's mean glare. I had no interest in repeating that.
Giselle waved at me on her way out which I returned with a smile. She was a very sweet, college girl and getting to know her was fun. Her brother moved out here six years ago and was the only reason she left Memphis. In-State tuition and a rent-free bedroom was all it took to convince her to spend some quality time with her big brother and his dog, Lucky.
She and Sam were the closest, but I would often see her eating lunch with Megan when he was with a client. Everyone was making bets on when they would eventually hook up, but I was convinced that had already happened and they were keeping it a secret from the nosy staff.
"See you tomorrow," Yoongi called out from across the room, seemingly appearing out of thin air.
He was out of eyesight before I could reply.
"Bye Yoon," Giselle sing-songed anyway, shoving her ear buds in and leaving before the door could close behind Yoongi. "Night guys!"
As the young woman said, Yoongi and Megan were the two most important people to befriend. Not just for massages either. The both of them were hilarious and kept the back fridge stocked with our favorite snacks. On the mornings I did not have time to eat breakfast, Megan stopped and got me a muffin and coffee from her favorite cafe. If I needed someone to help me out in the pool, Yoongi was always happy to offer himself for the job. It was challenging for me to focus on my swimming when Jimin was around, and I would often come in early to get a quick work out in before he got here.
“You okay getting home?” Jimin asked.
We had come together tonight, and he had offered to drive us in his truck. I had grown very fond of the green machine, which Jimin affectionately called Fiona, and I jumped at the chance to get in his passenger seat. We were usually riding around in my car since it was better on gas.
“Yeah, I’m riding with Sam.”
Sam and I had grown close as well. He was super funny and always down to hang out with me if I showed up by myself. On the odd Sunday I felt like getting out of the house, I found myself at the gym with Sam. I was currently attempting to teach him how to swim and always filled in for Yoongi on the weekends.
Jimin nodded, “Good. See you this weekend?”
I smiled, “Can’t miss your big party.”
Jimin’s 24th birthday was on the 13th and his family liked to go big. Eloise was clearing out an entire section in their restaurant for all of us, and I had found myself teamed up with Taehyung to help with the planning. Na-Yeon put everything in his hands since she was not feeling up to the task this year. I only agreed to help when I realized just how overboard the snowboarder would go if no one was there to reel him back in. So far, I had placed the responsibility of decorating, music, and organizing the gift table on my shoulders. James had pulled me aside and thanked me when he found out. Apparently, he was also worried about Taehyung’s enthusiasm. 
“It should be fun,” He nodded. “I’m going to head out.”
“See you tomorrow,” We had finally started coming 5 days a week. "We're working on your turns. Butterflies, too. Be prepared.”
He groaned, “You’re torturing me, coach.”
I laughed, “Is the baby upset?”
“Very,” He winked. My mouth went dry. Sometimes I felt silly for getting nervous around him, especially when I knew he flirted with everyone. I was not special. “See you Saturday.”
“Yeah,” I mumbled as I stared at his retreating back. “See you.”
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Jimin’s birthday passed quietly. We had a great time and ate well. Taehyung got drunk enough to suggest karaoke once we cleared out the place for the night, and he and Na-yeon had all of us cracking up. I finally met Jungkook’s girlfriend, a pretty girl who did not talk very much, and I could feel the tension between the two of them. Jimin said that was just how they were and to ignore it.
After Jungkook successfully shoved Jimin's face into his cake, we opened presents. The boys got him tons of workout clothes and gear, Eloise bought him a new blender, and his parents both chipped in to get the new video game he had been talking about picking up.
I gifted him a bottle of his favorite cologne after Na-Yeon mentioned he was out. Jo Malone was the most distracting thing in my life right now, its scent clinging to the passenger side of my car most days and driving me insane if Jimin stood too close. Still, it was something I did not think I could part with now. Jimin was happy with the present and hugged me after opening it. I was positive I had this stupid grin on my face for the rest of the night.
By Halloween we were in the gym every day, save Sunday and the occasional Saturday when Jimin needed some time to rest. We both kept our word, our conversation at the restaurant we went to with Jungkook and Taehyung sticking better than I thought it would. Overtime he got more confident when asking for a break and I was a professional at picking up on his body language. We were a good team, and I was confident he would be in great shape for the Olympics.
It was mid-November now and Taehyung had finally gotten around to getting us together for the sushi date in Detroit. I had just gotten out of the shower when Jimin messaged he was going to come along. His mom had a rough Sunday and could not go to their usual dance class, so he had stayed with her instead. He looked worn out when he walked inside the pool room Monday morning so instead of training, I just sent him home. We were meeting back up on Wednesday to get back to work, but it seemed Jungkook’s nagging finally convinced him to come out with the rest of us.
My relationships with his friends had also started to improve. Taehyung had added me to their group chat a few weeks back and I had tried to keep up with them as often as I could remember to. It was not difficult. They text so often I had to silence notifications for the chat, but I had to admit they were really funny. Jungkook especially.
I was happy to spend time with everyone and getting out of the house sounded nice. Violet and Calvin were great, and I did enjoy eating dinner with them sometimes, but I would be lying if I said they would be my first choice to spend time with.
I had grown close enough with Taehyung during the partying planning that his bubbly, over the top personality had become more endearing than overwhelming. We had gone to lunch a few times together, his boldness only increasing with each meet up, and he could hold me hostage for hours if I let him. Milo was typically my saving grace, and Taehyung would leave with a wet kiss to my cheek and promises of the same time next week.
Tae: Y/N should pick you up
Jimin: Why???
Kookie: Your truck is ass
I chuckled and sent off a text of my own before going to my dresser to find something warm to wear. 
Me: I don’t mind driving
Me: Don’t hate on the truck. I like it.
My phone chimed a few times but I ignored it for now. I knew I wanted to wear a pair of dark, navy jeans. It was freezing outside so a long sleeve was a must, but I could get away with just two layers. My hands found a mustard-yellow turtleneck and I smiled. I could wear my brown boots with it. Happy with my outfit, I checked on the chat.
Jimin: U sure?
Tae: The truck is GREEN
Tae: Already a crime
Kookie: It can’t go over 60
Darcy: omg stop blowing my phone up 
Darcy: just ride with her dude
Jimin: Y/N?
I rolled my eyes. I hated when he did that. Jimin had the habit of double and triple checking in with someone. It was sweet but it also drove me insane. There was nothing more I disliked than repeating myself, especially if I already agreed to something. 
Me: I’ll pick you up in 30, k?
Jimin: Thanks
Darcy: Was that so hard?
I frowned. So, Darcy was in a bad mood then. Shouldn't take it out on Jimin, I thought. Even if she was having a bad day, something that seemed to be a reoccurring theme with her, it doesn't mean she can just talk to people like that. Fighting the urge to give into my annoyance and call her out, I tossed my phone on my bed and made myself finish getting ready.
Walking into the living room, I went on a hunt for the jacket I wanted to wear. It was the same color as my leather boots with sherpa trim. It would tie everything together and, I hoped, would keep Taehyung from complaining too much about the “offensive” color of my shirt. He had a hard time accepting anything in the yellow or green family. Finding it on the sofa, I nodded and left it be. I would grab it on my way out. 
It took me more time to get my hair figured out than anything, but once I gave up and did the same thing that I did every day, it worked itself. After that, I put on a little bit of makeup since I figured it would not take me very long. This was a casual outing with friends and the dim lights of the sushi place would give me some grace if things were not perfect. A nice base, simple eye look, and a layer of mascara already had me looking more awake than I had in months. After applying a layer of lip gloss and a misting of setting spray, I was out of the door, jacket keeping me warm, and purse tucked under my arm. 
I drove in silence, like I always did, and pulled onto the curb of Jimin’s house. Sending a text to the chat, I waited for him to come out. I was a few minutes later than I said I would be, but Jimin found a way to be late for everything, so I did not feel that bad about it. Taehyung and Milo were already on leaving Ann Arbor, and Jungkook and Darcy riding with them. They would only beat us there by fifteen minutes or so, but I hoped he would hurry up and come outside. Taehyung worked hard for those reservations.
My phone vibrated and I stared at the little device in my cup holder. It was weird how my anxiety fluctuated on a daily basis. Back home, I could talk on the phone and hold a conversation behind the wheel, but ever since I came to Michigan it felt like I had taken three massive steps back. Taking a few deep breaths, I told myself that I was safe. I was parked, completely stationary, and no one was around. No traffic meant no accidents. Sucking in a harsh breath, I picked it up.
Jimin: Be out in a sec
Jimin: Just making sure mom is okay
He had not left his mother’s house in days. I was worried about Na-Yeon, but I had to believe that Jimin would tell me if something was seriously wrong with her. I had truly started to feel connected with the woman. We joked over dinner and I found myself helping her out more and more each time I came by. It would devastate me if she passed away without me knowing how bad it had gotten. 
Me: Take your time
He came out only two minutes later. Wearing a heavy, black puffy jacket and tight pants, Jimin leisurely walked over and got into the car. His cologne hit me as soon as the door opened, and I bit my lip, trying to hide the deep inhale I took. Jo fucking Malone.
He smiled at me but otherwise kept quiet as I drove. He knew I had a difficult time behind the wheel and tried his best to keep conversation light. While I normally appreciated the sentiment, I did not want to make him sit in silence for 45 minutes. Opening and closing my mouth a few times, I struggled to come up with a good conversation topic.
We often bounced from idea to idea, mostly sticking to swimming and music, and I always found our little talks to be very insightful. Movies and tv shows had been fun to bond over, a small generational gap introducing us to shit we had never heard of before. There were so many things I could bring up, things that Jimin would jump at the idea to talk about. Still, I could not find my voice.
“So,” I started, awkwardly, trying to push past the blockade of anxiety. “Is this place as good as Tae says or is he going off on one of his rants again?”
Jimin chuckled softly. “It’s pretty good, but it’s still just sushi. Taehyung finds a way to make everything sound extravagant.”
We shared a quiet laugh. 
“It was nice of him to invite me,” My hands gripped the wheel tighter. We were starting to approach more populated areas. “He didn’t have to do that.”
Jimin snorted childishly, the sound relaxing me ever so slightly. If there was one thing I hated was driving at night. I was lucky the snow had stopped falling yesterday afternoon and the roads were clear, but a part of me wished I had asked Jimin to drive.
Traffic in Saline was lighter than any town back in Colorado, and driving around was a breeze in comparison. At home, you were lucky if there was only one accident a day, but more times than not I had been stuck on the interstate for hours because of multiple car crashes. Michigan felt less hectic; safer. Not safe enough to let my guard down, but safe enough to listen to Jimin when he spoke.
“Taehyung is just that kind of guy.”
I nodded; eyes glued to the road. I wanted to say something and keep our conversation flowing, but the more cars around us the more I tuned him out. My eyes flickered between my rearview mirror, side mirrors, and windshield rapidly as I drove. Once we were out of Saline and on I-94, I loosened my grip on the wheel. We would not hit much traffic until we were closer to Detroit.
Jimin stayed quiet and looked out the window. I wanted to thank him for being so understanding, but I knew he would not want me to. I kept my thoughts to myself and focused on the road. Jimin began to hum an unfamiliar tune.
My hands were shaking when we pulled up to the restaurant. Traffic had gotten pretty bad coming into the city, but we had picked a good day to come out. Jimin hummed and sang underneath his breath for most of the car ride, and we had a few small sporadic conversations when I felt the knots in my stomach loosen for a few brief moments.
"It's been forever since I've come here," Jimin said to himself, going to unbuckle his seat belt. "It looks pretty filled up."
Bash was a sushi place across from Wayne State University's football field and was one Taehyung’s favorite restaurants. He bragged about how delicious their food was for weeks before finally wearing me down with the promise of picking up the tab. He made reservations for their omakase, or “chef’s choice,” and promised I would get his obsession.
When I talked to Megan about it, she had said it was an expensive meal, so I was going to try and force myself to enjoy it regardless of my own personal feelings. Jimin seemed to like it here, and we usually enjoyed a lot of the same foods, so it made me feel a bit better about things.
I had to park down the street and spotted Taehyung’s Mazda a few cars away. Instead of getting out, I took a few moments to gather my composure. Jimin sat beside me patiently. He had grown used to my traffic anxiety. We had driven together so many times now, and he had gotten a taste of the worst of it a handful of times.
He had only asked about it the first time we rode to the gym together, completely frazzled and unsure of himself as I hyperventilated in the driver's seat. My hands trembled violently as my palms sweat profusely, and I let myself shed a few tears once we were parked. He reached out, placing a hand on my back, and quietly asked me what was bothering me.
“Red light,” I managed to wheeze out. They were doing some construction on the main road and things started piling up. I had gotten stuck in the intersection for just a few seconds, but it was long enough to send me into a blind panic. “Anxiety. Sorry. Need a minute.”
He helped me calm down, calming down to help me through my panic attack. We played a game of I-Spy, Jimin picking out the most obvious shit and saying the most random things to point out in order to make me laugh. When I felt a little better, he got out of the car to help me get out. After that he kept quiet about my obvious driving discomforts, but stuck close just in case I needed the support, and always offered to drive.
“Ready?” He asked when I grabbed my phone out of the cup holder.
“Yeah.”
We walked inside and the hostess made light conversation while she walked us to the back. Taehyung's laugh could be heard from the other side of the room, and his bright blue hair and vibrant eyeshadow stuck out like a sore thumb in this place. Milo was dressed in all black, his arm draped around his fiancé's shoulder, and a smile on his face. Jungkook was beside him scrolling through his phone, but Darcy was nowhere in sight. Glancing at Jimin, he seemed exasperated.
“Trouble in paradise,” He murmured, leaning down so I could hear him. I had to imagine their relationship was very exhausting and took its toll on their friend group. I knew how much it sucked being caught between Tilly and Hobi back in the day. “Here we fucking go.”
Taehyung jumped out of the booth when he caught sight of us, his fluffy, white cropped top riding up, revealing even more of his tanned skin. The snowboarder wrapped his arms around my waist and snuggled my hairline, showering me in compliments. Gold hoop earrings tapped my forehead, and his belly button ring was cold against my ribcage. He was happy to see me “dolled up” for once and forgave how ugly my shirt was since I looked “so cute.”
Milo gave me a slight wave, eyes never leaving Taehyung's bouncing body as he embraced Jimin, and Jungkook put his phone down to greet us. Darcy had gone to the bathroom and from the look on Milo’s face, Jimin’s was right about trouble in paradise. Whatever was going on, we were all about to fall witness. It made my stomach churn just thinking about it.
Our waitress brought a new pot of tea, asking us if we needed anything, before leaving with the promise of the first course coming out soon. Darcy almost slammed into the poor woman on her way back to our booth, her annoyed huff making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. When she sat down beside her boyfriend her entire body was rigged and face pulled together tightly. She did not spare us a glance as she sulked.
Darcy was a very beautiful girl and it made sense why Jungkook liked her so much. Tanned skin, green eyes, and black hair, the girl had one of those bodies most women would pay thousands of dollars for. Like Taehyung had said, she was a pleasant enough person, and we did not along well enough to hold a conversation, but there was no hiding the fact that Darcy was not a nice girl. In fact, I would venture to say she was very, very mean.
I saw it firsthand at Jimin’s birthday party. I had a moment where I felt myself panicking. Overwhelmed with all of the noise and people, I excused myself and called Andy to get my head back on straight. The women's restroom was tucked away in a small hallway and allowed me the space to shed a few tears. I was just starting to calm down, Andy's words of encouragement getting back to some sort of baseline, while I rubbed cold water on my neck. That was when I heard Jungkook on the other side of the door.
He was angry and when I told Andy I needed to go, I had every intention of going out there to talk to him, but another voice beat me to it. Darcy had been in a bad mood since she walked through the front door, her shitty attitude bringing down the party every time she opened her mouth. At first, I just brushed it off as an off night, something I could feel empathy towards, but then she opened her mouth and stopped those thoughts in their tracks.
The two of them were serial cheaters, and Jimin had alluded to that being their main issue when I asked about her attitude problem earlier that night. Eloise was the person who gave me the whole story and was not afraid to voice her dislike for the older girl. This was different from Milo, a guy who she clashed with due to their night and day personalities. Darcy had actively picked on and made fun of her growing up, and bullied her older sister while they were in school together.
Darcy, according to Eloise, started the back-and-forth cheating when they were in college. Instead of going their separate ways, something I doubt anyone would have blamed Jungkook for doing, he chose to get even. After fucking one of her sorority sisters, Jungkook made his way through the entire house within the span of three months. In retaliation, Darcy slept with a couple of guys from the NHL, something she still did to this day.
On the night of the party, she was still fuming over catching him with another woman a few days prior. Trapped in the bathroom and too afraid to let them know I could hear them; I suffered through five minutes of a couple’s quarrel I had no business being in the middle of. It was an eye opener for sure and made me avoid getting too close to either of them.
Darcy was very mean and spiteful, her words meant to cut him deeply with little care about how it would make him feel in the long run. She even brought up screwing one of his rivals to get back at him, something she had done on numerous occasions, and went as far as to compare the two men in bed. It helped to explain why Jungkook hated Jackson Wang so much.
Jungkook, despite how much I enjoyed him as an individual, was just as awful. He spent most of the argument defending his bad behavior by bringing up her own and took no accountability for his actions. He could have sex with all of Michigan and it would be justified because she cheated on him first. It was all very juvenile, and I tried my best to avoid them for the rest of the night.
“Bet they can’t go ten minutes without fighting,” Jimin mumbled in my ear.
I fought back a smile, leaning into his side. Physical touch was the swimmer’s love language and I had slowly grown accustomed to small touches here and there. So, it did not catch me off guard when his arm came around my shoulders, resting just above my head, hand gently brushing against my neck. The voice in my head often wished he would do it more often.
“She won’t start something before the food gets here,” I reasoned, stealing a look at the couple. Jungkook seemed fine, but from the look on Darcy’s face that might change soon. “I’ll say twenty.”
“What are we bargaining for?”
I laughed awkwardly, “Whatever you want.”
Taking a second to think, Jimin eyed the couple across the table. Taehyung and Milo were obviously extremely aware of the couple's awkward tension and tactfully ignored them, instead giggling about some inside joke. They were a very sweet pair. My weariness about Milo had dissipated over the last few weeks, but I could understand why he and Eloise could not get along.
Lou herself had admitted to being a bit of a stuck-up teenager back in the day, and Milo was the typical small-town stoner. They constantly butt heads when they were in high school, and just drifted apart with age. Taehyung and Jimin's friendship were the only reason they were in the same circle anymore, and the two just never spoke to avoid pressing buttons.
“I want to do something together,” Jimin finally said, I smiled, trying to ignore the snarky comments Darcy was making. The arguing was starting, and I felt my neck growing hot. Did they have to do this in public? “Get dinner or something.”
“We do that all the time,” I countered, half-heartedly paying attention to him.
“Denny’s doesn’t count," He mumbled.
The waitress finally came back with a large tray of sushi in her hand. That seemed to break up the argument momentarily, but Darcy did not seem pleased to be interrupted. Stuffing a large piece of ahi sashimi in my mouth, I sparked up a conversation with Taehyung to keep myself from having another meltdown. Beside him, Milo sent me a grateful look.
The rest of the table was silent, waiting for the fight to resume. Taehyung kept smiling painfully, but I could see the panic bubbling in his eyes, and for once I saw a small crack in his otherwise well-crafted facade. 
“I didn’t mean just getting food,” Jimin finally continued when we hit a lull, and it took me a few seconds to remember what he was talking about. “I meant… going out.”
I looked at him, eyebrow raised. His cheeks were puffed with scallops and I wished we were alone. This was not a conversation I wanted to have in front of the others, especially if he was insinuating what I thought he was. I did not want to jump to conclusions, but I was sure he was asking me out on a date. Even if it made me feel jittery thinking about it, I had a difficult time finding the voice to say yes. Saying no felt just as impossible, though, and I wished he would have picked a better time to bring this up. Whatever the hell this was.
“What are you asking me?” I whispered, taking another piece of fish off my plate, sneaking a look at Taehyung and Milo.
They were too wrapped up in one another to being listening in on us. I did not even bother checking in with the other two. I knew for a fact they did not care about anybody else but themselves.
“You know,” He replied.
Dating was not off the table, and I was more than happy to indulge myself, but I was worried about crossing this invisible line I had drawn. What would people say if they found out? A coach and her trainee, and even worse, the older woman and her much younger man. I could see the headlines now and it made my palms sticky. That would not be a good look for either one of us, and I did not want our personal relationship to affect Jimin’s career.
Putting my chopsticks down, I leaned away from him. “Can we talk about this later?”
He nodded, meeting my eyes, and I was relieved to see he was not upset. I had seen him angry a few times now, and he wore it on his sleeve with pride. Jimin was not afraid of his emotions, something I found extremely attractive, and it was nice that all I could see right now was understanding. Whatever happened he would hear me out, and I had to hope he would be understanding. I just had to be sure I did not fuck anything up.
Across the table the bickering had started again. Our waitress brought out the rest of our meal, sans desert, and seemed happy we were enjoying the food. She eyed Darcy wearily and left our table in a hurry. I felt horrible for the wait staff who had come to our table. They were all getting the nastiest looks from the dark haired beauty.
“Do we really have to do this now?” Jungkook sighed, running a hand through his hair roughly. His face was red and expression tight. “In front of my friends, dude? Are you serious?”
I cleared my throat, grabbed my tea and took a long sip before sinking into the booth and praying no one could see me. Jimin’s arm dropped, and he squeezed my shoulder in comfort. I let myself melt under his touch. It always felt nice when his hands were on me, his warmth burning hot like a furnace even in below freezing temperatures. Taehyung’s eyes were bulging out of his head now, his bottom lip trembling as he tried his best to keep the conversation between the four of us light. He had stopped trying to include the other two.
“You two seem close,” He gritted, fakeness coming from him that I had never encountered before. “Glad you were able to sort that out.”
I looked over at Jimin and saw his cheeks had gone pink. So, Taehyung knew something I didn’t. It would make sense for the childhood best friend to get the scoop before the chick he’s known for two months, I had definitely vented to my friends on more than one occasion, and my curiosity was peaked.
“I'm working on it,” Jimin replied, taking a big gulp of water. “Thanks, Tae," He breathed, rolling his eyes.
I stifled a laugh. He was so cute when he was embarrassed. I made a mental note to ask Tae to explain what he meant when we had a chance to get lunch. I had a feeling the snowboarder would be more than happy to divulge that little piece of information. 
“Talking about me to your friends?” I teased, trying my best to ignore the ever-growing argument across from me. The butterflies in my stomach were a helpful distraction. “Good things, I hope.”
He cracked a smile, face and neck flushed. “The best things.”
Such a flirt.
I bit my lip and looked away. Eating was a nice way to interrupt the electricity that was enveloping us, and I gorged myself on octopus and tuna. Whatever the hell these dishes were, I had to admit the sushi here was the best I had ever had. I would never doubt a recommendation from Taehyung again.
The conversation started flowing easily after that. Jungkook and Darcy were at a stalemate and were relatively quiet on their side of the booth. With the atmosphere lightening, Milo felt good enough to start telling us his latest work stories. He was a firefighter along with all three of his brothers. His father was promoted to chief about five years ago but was coming up to his retirement. The only one of his siblings to avoid the fireman fate was his baby sister, but had still managed to find a job at the station.
"You guys must be close," I laughed in disbelief.
“It’s the family business,” He joked. "Rosie is our new EMT."
Taehyung spoke excitedly about his upcoming competitions and was really hopeful he would win enough to qualify for the Olympics this year. Milo and Jimin both reassured him multiple times while I tried my best to keep up with everything he was talking about. I had very little knowledge of snowboarding, so I was having to constantly interrupt and ask for clarification. No one seemed to mind, and eventually Jungkook joined in to talk about his upcoming hockey games.
The Red Wings were having a good year, and he was proud of his team for working as hard as they did. As a goalie, he did not do a lot of skating, but his job was one of the hardest on the team. From what I knew after watching a few games on tv with Jimin's family, Jungkook was one of the best goalies in the NHL who was highly sought after. He had been offered millions to transfer to the New York Rangers, but out of loyalty he turned them down.
“I’ll take you to a few matches if you want,” Jimin offered. “Kook can get us tickets whenever.”
I smiled, “That sounds like fun.”
“Milo and I go all of the time so we can sit together,” Taehyung interjected, his shoulders relaxed for the first time since we got here.
Darcy was quiet and stayed on her phone. Jungkook was pretending she was not here, and it helped keep the arguing from starting again. I was not sure how long the truce would last, but I hoped they could hold it together long enough for us to finish eating.
“So Y/N,” Milo mused, taking a piece of fish from Taehyung’s plate. “Have you ever thought about competing again?”
I laughed nervously, “For a time, maybe. My injuries make it hard for me to swim the way I used to so I decided to keep it as a hobby.”
It was not a complete lie, but I knew I might be able to get back into competitions if I put in the time and effort. I hated the thought of being back in the spotlight, cameras shoved in my face, only to lose and give them more to talk about. I was still recovering from the trauma they inflicted on me after the accident. My leg injuries just gave me the perfect excuse to keep my distance.
He nodded, eyebrows knitted, “I didn’t know you had medical leave. What happened?”
Jimin tensed up beside me. 
“I was in a car accident,” I replied. Talking about what happened did not bother me as much as it used to, and Milo seemed genuinely interested in the answer. “I had to get a full knee replacement on my left side, and a full hip replacement. I should have lost my leg, but the doctor on staff recognized me and brought up my profession.”
Milo whistled, giving me a sympathetic look. “Leg? You could have died.”
“Well,” I breathed, finishing off my last piece of fish. “I pulled through though, so it wasn’t all bad.” I fiddled with my shirt, pretending to smooth it down as I played it cool. "Anyway, I have nerve damage in my leg that makes me get really horrible cramps and twitching if I overwork my muscles. It sucks but coaching is really fun, so I can't complain."
Blatantly lying wasn't something I did often, but I truly hated reliving the months of physical therapy. Unable to walk or talk, I was stuck in that hospital bed for weeks and then got sent home to watch my closest friends wait on me hand-and-foot. When I wasn’t in physical therapy, I was with my SLP. When I wasn’t with her then I was in bed, crying into my pillow, and wishing I had never woken up. It was an extremely dark time in my life, one filled with chronic pain and overwhelming depression, and talking about it made me emotional. 
“Anyway,” Taehyung sent his fiancé a pointed look. “Kookie’s next home game is in two weeks.”
Happy to be out of the spotlight, I began to talk with Jimin about changing our schedule around so we could attend the game. Taehyung was excited to get me some Red Wing merchandise, and Jungkook quickly began to boast about his prowess on the ice. Darcy scoffed beside him and I felt the group tense up.
“You’re so cocky, Ian,” She taunted, eyes glued to her phone. “I heard Avalanche was doing really well this season.”
I knew from the group chat that the Red Wings and the Colorado Avalanche had a long-standing rivalry. It had started all the way back in the mid-90’s and reached its peak in 2002. While the intensity had dissipated over the years, it had recently spiked up again due to Jungkook and Jackson Wang’s ongoing feud. The only reason Darcy would bring that up would be to piss her boyfriend off. 
“Hm,” Jungkook smirked, chuckling darkly. “Who told you that?”
I held my breath, already guessing where this was going. The tension from earlier was thicker than ever as we fell silent. Darcy put her phone on the table, flipped her hair over her shoulder, and looked Jungkook in the face as she replied.
“Jackson.”
It was dead silent for a few seconds. Then, without waiting for a response, Darcy kept digging the knife in and twisting. She called him ugly, said he sucked in bed, brought up all of the ways Jackson was better than he was, and went as far as to bring up his father's affair. Jungkook could not get a word in as her silky voice dropped lower and lower, words cutting deeper and deeper, and eyes growing brighter as she watched his expression fall. I learned something tonight. Darcy enjoyed hurting Jungkook.
"Why are you doing this, dude?" Jungkook's voice was thick with emotion. "You're acting like a fucking child. It's embarrassing."
“Holy shit,” Milo groaned as their voices got louder. “Are they being forreal right now?”
“Babe,” Taehyung scolded, the forced smile still plastered on his face. “Language.”
“You weren’t embarrassed when you fucked that girl” Darcy screamed and I felt my stomach twist uncomfortably. “Why should I feel bad about airing out my dirty laundry? Everyone here knows how much of a whore I am anyway, isn’t that right, Ian?”
“Keep your voice down,” Jungkook hissed, eyes glassy. “You’re causing a scene.”
Taehyung and Milo looked as mortified as I felt, both of them staring at Darcy in horror. The entire restaurant had gone silent. Eyes were glued to our table as they argued. She shouted about him getting his dick sucked in their bed, and Jungkook was just angry she was acting like this in public. It was Jimin’s birthday all over again only this time they knew people were watching and did not care. Taehyung’s smile was finally gone and replaced by trembling lips and fidgeting hands.
“Take that shit outside,” Jimin cut in, voice cold and hard. Darcy glared daggers in our direction. “You’re going to get us kicked out.”
Darcy opened her mouth to argue but was interrupted by the waitress coming back and demanding our party leave. Taehyung began to apologize profusely while Darcy stormed out of the restaurant, bumping into numerous people roughly without looking back. Jungkook was hot on her heels, breathing heavily, and eyes glossed over with unshed tears. She shouted that Jackson was outside and for Jungkook to go fuck himself. Jungkook didn’t reply but I knew he was not expecting the other man to be here. I sure the fuck wasn't.
An arm wrapped around my shoulders, “Hey, calm down. Breathe.”
I had not realized I had been holding my breath. Turning my head, I was taken aback by how close Jimin was. Our noses brushed together, his breath hot against my cheek, and I jerked away, heart racing. The butterflies were swarming now, and a shiver went down my spine. His arm dropped and I immediately missed its warmth. Flustered, I scooted out of the booth and kept my head hung low. I was so embarrassed, and I could hear Taehyung’s voice starting to wobble as he handed over some cash to the waitress for the trouble. No one was going home happy tonight. 
“I’m so fucking pissed off,” Jimin grunted, keeping in step with me. Milo was attempting to get a now hysterical Taehyung calmed as they followed behind us. “I don’t know why Tae invites the two of them anywhere.”
I shook my head, “It’s not his fault. She needs to get some self-control, though. That was so rude and uncalled for, and for what?"
“They both owe him a fucking apology,” He sighed harshly.
The guests of honor were already in a very heated screaming match when we finally made it outside. Whatever had been brewing inside had clearly reached its peak, and neither one of them was willing to back down. Jimin’s arm was back around my shoulders as he tried his best to shelter me from the strong winds that were kicking up. Looking at Darcy and Jungkook all I could see were my parents and it caused me great discomfort. Maybe I should try to call my dad again and make sure he was alright? He rarely answered but at least it would cut some of the edge off of my anxiety.
“Why are you acting like this?” Jungkook shouted, pulling at his hair. “What the fuck is wrong with you, dude?”
“You!” Darcy shrieked. “You! You! YOU! You’re the problem. This is all your fault!”
Jungkook called her a crazy bitch and Darcy slapped him across the face before stomping off. A sleek red convertible was waiting for her on the curb, a well-groomed man behind the steering wheel. He smiled and waved at Jungkook before speeding off, Darcy already attaching her lips to his neck and not sparing any of us a second glance.
“What the fuck!” Taehyung shouted, sobbing and clinging to Milo. 
I was surprised he was able to hold himself back for that long. He seemed hellbent on strangling Jungkook as soon as he was able. I stepped to the side watching a man I had never seen upset shove Jungkook backwards. Any resemblance of a smile was gone now, replaced with a snot-nosed, red eyed man with bared teeth. Jungkook stumbled, barely keeping his footing before shoving the other man back. Milo was quick to defend his fiancé, pushing Jungkook so hard he stumbled, fell on his ass, and cried out in pain. 
Jimin’s arm gripped me tighter as he stared at the scene unfold in silence. His clenched jaw, however, told me how angry he was. I briefly wondered what he would be doing if he was not so focused on keeping me warm.
“That was so fucked up,” Taehyung cried, wiping his face roughly. “I told you both to keep that shit at home or don’t come!”
“She started it! It’s not my fault-”
“Dude,” Milo shook his head, wrapping his arms around Taehyung. “It doesn’t fucking matter. That’s your girl.”
As the three of them argued, I tried to decipher the look on Jimin’s face. He was angry, that was very apparent, and I felt my own anger finally start to rise. He had been dealing with so much shit and on his first night out in ages this happens? It was unfair and ridiculous, my frustration over the entire situation making me want to go over and push Jungkook around, too. However, I knew that was not the way to handle this. Truth was, he was not the only person to blame for how badly the night had ended. Darcy was the main instigator.
“Are you okay?” I asked Jimin, stepping away from his tight embrace. His arm was still around my shoulders with no sign of moving. “I’m sorry everything got so shitty.”
He nodded, face softening when he looked at me. “Just worried about Taehyung. He was really excited about tonight.”
The yelling was finally starting to calm down and I was happy that they were talking things out. I did not think I could handle the screaming for any longer. I had been a bundle of nerves since I left my house, and my fingers trembled at my sides. I could hear my mother’s voice echoing in my head, though I was positive it was distorted after so many years. Sometimes when her and dad fought, she would find me hiding in my closet and pull me out, hands leaving my skin tender from the harsh grip she had on my arms, before telling me to clean up the broken dishes from off the floor.
“Come here you little shit!”
She hated me; hated being a mother. I could remember how much I wished she would hold me like the other kids' moms held them but was too afraid to ask. One time I drew a picture of her at school and she never even looked at it. Instead, she smoked her cigarettes at the dinner table and watched Law and Order. If I really thought about it, she threw the drawing away. It was too dirty. Just like I was too dirty.
Mom had germaphobia and considered me one of the dirtiest things she had ever seen. I was not allowed in their bedroom because of it. Dad went along with it like he did everything else. When he wasn’t drinking, he was sleeping or in the garage. I hoped he was doing okay. Danielle seemed to be just as controlling as mom had been.
“Where’d you go?”
I startled, whipping around to find Jimin staring at me. His expression was gentle and calm, and I was suddenly aware of the harsh chill nipping at my wet cheeks. I had not noticed I was starting to cry. Strange. It had been a long time since those memories had been brought up.
“Are you okay?” He asked, rubbing my arm. “You looked lost.”
I nodded, quickly reaching up to pat the tears away. It was a good thing my mascara was smudge proof or else I might look even more pathetic. I am 31 now and it felt stupid to cry over things so far in the past. Things I had not had to deal with in well over 20 years. Dr.Wolfe would disagree with me, but she wasn't here.
“Yeah,” I nodded, voice thick. “Just zoned out for a second. Eyes must have dried out.”
It was a bad lie, but a lie he accepted. Squeezing my arm one last time, he finally moved away to give me a bit of breathing room. That was another thing that I always appreciated about the guy. He never overstayed his welcome, even if he wanted to. Taking a second to compose myself, I mindlessly fixed my hair and adjusted my clothes. Nervous habit.
“I think everyone’s heading home for the night,” Jimin said, nodding his head toward the other three men. “They seem cool. You ready to leave?”
I shrugged, “If you are.”
He nodded and walked over to the ground. I gave myself another moment to gather my thoughts. The worst of it was over and I doubted those memories would make themselves known again. With the screaming over it would not take long for my head to get itself straightened out. I might ask Jimin to drive us back, though. I was exhausted, and frankly, I did not think we would be safe if I was behind the wheel. Nothing worse than an anxious driver.
Jungkook was ashamed of their behavior tonight, and when I joined the others, he was quick to throw a million apologies in my direction. I accepted them all easily but knew it would take me a few days to fully forgive him. Tonight was a lot. Hopefully I could speak with Taehyung privately and ask him not to invite the couple out with us. If I never had to see Darcy again it would make my stay that much easier.
“I think we’re going to go home,” Milo said once Jungkook walked away. He was planning on calling an Uber so Tae could have a bit of space. “My little flower is burned out for the night.”
I smiled sadly, “Are you sure? We can always try something else.”
Taehyung’s head snapped in my direction and I wanted to scoop him up in my arms. His face was puffy from crying and eyes still misty. He was quick to nod his head and reached out to take hold of my hands.
“You still want to hang out with me?” He whimpered.
I had only said it to cheer him up not thinking that he would actually go for the idea. I had never seen him so distraught before and Milo seemed convinced that he was over having fun. Stealing a look at the blonde, he gave me a grateful smile but otherwise kept a watchful eye on Taehyung.
“Of course I do,” I finally replied, squeezing his large hands. “Tonight wasn’t your fault.”
His lower lip started to wobble again and next thing I knew I was in a very tight, warm hug. Taehyung cried into the crook of my neck. He was worried I would not like him anymore because of the fight. I awkwardly hugged him back, hoping my calm reassurances would soothe him. We really needed to get from outside the front of this restaurant before they called the cops. 
“It’s alright,” I said, trying to gently remove his arms from my waist. “We’re still friends, I promise.”
After another minute of crying, Taehyung was back in Milo’s arms. His face was red, and his nose was running, but the sobs had stopped. Jimin placed a hand on my lower back and started to bounce a few ideas off of Milo. It was late, but from the sound of things, our get together was not over. I could not say for certain if this was a good thing or not, I did need to have that talk with Jimin. If we were out too late there was no way for me to promise I would not pass out in the car.
“Uh,” Jimin thought for a second. “If we’re still hungry there’s Pie Sci and Woodbridge is right down the street. There's also that park a few blocks away."
I shrugged, “Whatever’s the best?” Looking at Taehyung, I made sure that he was feeling well enough to hang out. “I won’t be upset if you want to go home. It was a rough night for all of us.”
He sniffled and nodded. “I’m just really tired.”
Jimin and I said our goodbyes and I promised the blue haired boy I would call him in the morning to set up another meet up. He called it a group date, something neither Jimin nor I disagreed with, but it did make me feel queasy. Depending on how our conversation goes, we may never spend time together outside of training. I felt like I was going to vomit.
“Let me drive?” Jimin murmured as we parted ways with the couple. 
I nodded, digging in my purse to find them. “Mind reader, I swear. Get out of my head, kid.”
He snickered, “Who says you weren’t in mine, granny”
The queasiness dissipated and I felt like I could breathe a little bit easier now. Being alone with Jimin had never felt this nerve wracking before, not even the first time we met, and it was hard to explain all of the thoughts and feelings going through my head. We were finally having the talk, but I had never imagined it going this way. Handing him the keys, I elbowed him in the ribs.
“Whoops,” I mocked. “You know me and my bad eyesight, kiddo.”
“Watch it,” He hissed, rubbing the spot. “Don’t want you breaking anything. You know you have frail bones.”
I laughed, “Don’t make me give you a knuckle sandwich, punk.”
Sliding into the passenger seat felt less daunting after the light hearted exchange. Still, my blood was pumping as Jimin clicked his seatbelt in place. I had no idea when the conversation would shift into murkier waters, but I needed to start thinking about what to say to him. 
Denying my feelings would only make things worse, and I did not think the younger man would believe me. In fact, he would be offended that I thought he was dumb enough to get bamboozled in the first place. Lying did not seem like the right call anyway. My feelings were not something to feel ashamed about, but they were very frightening. 
“When is later?”
I gasped, startled out of my thoughts. We had been driving for over ten minutes already. Time seemed to slip by when I was lost in my own head. Jimin apologized for scaring me but repeated the question once I reassured him that I was fine.
“Now,” I mumbled. “I guess later is now.”
Turning on the blinker, Jimin switched lanes smoothly. He was probably the best driver that I knew and always made sure to keep my little quirks in mind during our rides. He had even gotten used to leaving the radio off when I was around, something that I appreciated more than words could ever say. Recognizing that I was stalling, I cleared my throat and tried my best to get my jumbled thoughts across.
“As much as I would like to go on that date,” I started, voice weak, “I’m just a bit concerned with how that might affect our ability to work together.”
There we go, I thought to myself mentally patting myself on the back. That was not as hard as I thought it would be. Leaving out a few details would not hurt anybody, and it was the main cause of concern for me. My age was definitely up there, but I doubted Jimin would understand my perspective. To him I was just older, but to the rest of the world I was this cougar on the prowl for young men to help me relive my glory days. Even my own friends thought it was funny to make fun of the age gap.
“Is it only because of that?” Jimin pressed, his voice telling me that he was still reacting positively to whatever was coming out of my mouth. I was refusing to look at him, fearful that he would see through me. “Or is there something else bothering you?”
“W-w-well-” I stammered, “There is the media frenzy to think about. Sejin is already dealing with the press and your ‘out of character’ seclusion this season. Then there’s the age gap. I just-” I struggled to find the right words. Having let my insecurity slip out, I lost my flow and scrambled to get back on track. “Look, I haven’t done this whole dating thing in a really long time, and I don’t want that to get in the way of being a good coach. Ozzie put me in charge of you, and my reputation is on the line.”
I could hear my heart beating in my ears. Mouth dry and palms sweaty, I forced myself to look out of the window as I spoke. Anxiety had been something I dealt with for as long as I could remember, and it only got worse the older I got. My hands and fingers trembled in my lap as I tried to steady my breathing. 
In all of the dreams I had about Jimin, and there had been quite a few at this point, this moment had never felt so real and raw. We were always in these picture perfect pieces of heaven, sunshine beaming down on us, and the words I desperately wanted to say fell from my lips with ease. It was simple and sweet, and yet profound and beautiful. I could wax poetics and put myself thoughts together so eloquently he had no choice but to say yes to me. 
Reality was different. Here I was stumbling over my sentences and stuttering my way through words. Instead of taking his hand with mine, I was fidgeting with shaking fingers and desperately hoping he could not see just how uncomfortable I was. I knew he did. He always noticed. My heart was racing so fast I was afraid it would burst. Had he turned the heart up? It was boiling.
“I just want to know how you feel about me.”
“Hm?” I squeaked, unable to form any real words. My mouth was too dry. 
“I’ve thought about all of the same shit,” Jimin continued, voice as smooth and calming as ever. “I don’t care about any of that. All I want to know is how you feel about me.”
“You know,” I replied, wheezing. Talking felt impossible. “You know.”
“I want to hear you say it.”
Taking in a deep breath, I squeezed my eyes shut and began the mental countdown. My therapist taught me the technique years ago and I always found it to be helpful. I did this a few times until I felt calm enough to open my eyes. 
“Are you alright?” Jimin asked.
“Yeah,” I nodded, finally feeling my heart rate slowing. “A little anxious.”
“Don’t be,” He placed a hand on my knee. “It’s just me.”
And he was right. It was just Jimin and I in my car, but that was also the reason I felt so suffocated. There was nowhere to run or hide in here, and if things went south I was stuck with him for half an hour. Trying not to let those pessimistic thoughts send me back into a panic, I began to mentally point out things in my car.
Air freshener. It's green. It smells like pine and lemons. I want a new scent. Jimin likes to buy this coconut and mango one that smells like candy. I will buy one like his. I love the smell.
I let out a heavy breath. Everything was fine. He was not upset. He just wanted to know how I felt about him. Nothing more nothing less. My heart was settling, and my fingers were no longer shaking.
“I like you,” I choked out, placing my hand over his. “But you already knew that.”
He gently laughed, flipping his hand up to intertwine our fingers. 
“Yeah, you’re a terrible actress.”
I groaned, leaning my head against the window. As much as I tried kidding myself, there was absolutely no way he did not see the way I looked at him. I always knew when his flirting took on a more serious edge, like when he called me beautiful after seeing the scar on my leg for the first time, so it should not have been surprising that he picked up on a thing or two. Still, it did not make it any less embarrassing.
“How long have you known?” I asked, peeking at him through my lashes.
“I mean, I had a feeling when you first got to town, but I wasn’t completely sure until that first training day.”
He laughed at my embarrassed groan, holding my hand tighter. I knew I wasn't subtle enough. Poker face champion, my ass.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” He cooed. “You’ve been my dream girl since I was, like, 15.”
“That's not helping the age gap thing,” I tittered as I played with his fingers. Then, because I could not help myself. “Dream girl, huh?”
Picking up on the teasing tone in my voice, Jimin chortled. 
“Okay, big head. Calm down.”
“Big head?” I guffawed, pulling my hand out of his grasp. “Who are you calling big head, shortstop?”
“You, big head,” Taking back my hand, Jimin pinned it down and kept a tight grip. “No take backs.”
I always loved it when Jimin was in a good mood. He was so playful and full of energy, and all signs of those dark days were in the deepest parts of his mind. It was impossible to keep myself from playing along which only served to egg him on.
“You never said yes or no.”
“Yes or no to what?” I questioned. 
Jimin started rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb.
“To that date.”
Saying yes felt wrong, but saying no felt impossible. No matter what I said someone would be upset, and I had to decide who that would be: Jimin or America? I turned my own hand around this time and put my fingers through his. They fit together awkwardly, his hands just a bit too large, but I still found it perfect all the same.
“Do you have any ideas?”
His shiteating grin was contagious and a burst of butterflies began to flutter in my stomach. Hands clasped, Jimin started to list off all of the places we could go, but I was not fully listening. I had a date with this guy. I was going on a date with my trainee. 
“What do you think?”
I blinked rapidly, hoping he could not tell that I had zoned out. 
“You pick,” I breathed. “Surprise me.”
The rest of the drive back home was spent making small talk and discussing food preferences. Jimin was a dinner and a movie kind of guy, while I would rather do some sort of activity. What type of conversation could we have in a theater? Jimin seemed excited to plan out a fun night and I was just happy he was this into me. The feeling was most definitely mutual.
“Do you mind if I go to my house tonight? Mom needs some space and I know my dad is tired of having me breathing down their necks.”
I had yet to go over to his house. The days that we drove together were when he spent the evening with his parents. When Na-yeon and I talked about it, she was more upfront about her health situation than the men of the house. James spent most of his time taking care of his wife and their son enjoyed giving him a break every now and then. James would go on a fishing trip with his friends while Jimin stayed back to keep an eye on his mother. 
“Is it closer to town?” I asked, nibbling on my lower lip. 
I had yet to drive through downtown Ann Arbor. The Park house, and by proxy the Anderson’s, was a thirty minute drive from the bustling city. Nestled in the smaller town of Saline going towards Manchester, I had rarely had to leave the small town. This trip to Detroit was the farthest I had gone since arriving in Michigan, but I had a feeling the traffic in downtown Ann Arbor would be a bit much for me to drive through alone.
“Yeah,” I felt even more nervous by his nonchalant tone. “I used to live downtown, but I got tired of the noise. I bought my house in Eberwhite last summer, so there’s a little less foot traffic.”
“How’s the drive back to Saline?” Even I could hear the hesitation in my voice.
“Less than twenty,” Rubbing the back of my hand, his voice took on a sweeter tone. “We don’t have to. My truck’s at my parent’s place anyway.”
“Maybe some other time?” I forced myself to laugh, hoping to make the awkward tension leave. “Preferably when it’s not dark outside.”
I relaxed into my seat once I started seeing familiar landmarks. Saline was a very small town with a little over 2,000 residents, but downtown still had a way of attracting a relatively large crowd. Stoney Creek Brewery was packed and Jimin pointed out Sam’s car as we pass by. 
“Looks like he came out with Otis and Skye,” He murmured.
Otis was another personal trainer at the gym, and Skye was responsible for marketing. They had been going out for a while now and made plan to move to Ann Arbor once Otis graduated from school. He was getting his masters in movement science at the University of Michigan. They had planned on moving out there when he graduated last year, but neither of them could find a job that could pay their bills. Otis was hoping the master’s would give him a competitive edge while Skye saved up enough money to start her own advertising firm.
“Think Gigi is with them?” I wondered.
“Probably not. She’s busy studying for an exam. I saw that she requested time off tomorrow and the day after, so I don’t think she has the time to go out for drinks.”
Giselle was getting her bachelor’s in dental hygiene at UM, and everytime I spoke to her she was swamped with work. I had no idea she needed to request time off, though. Must be an intense program.
“Did you ever go to college?” I asked Jimin. 
He nodded, “I got my bachelor’s in psychology.”
Well, I had not been expecting that. 
“Really?”
“Yeah, but I never went back to get my master’s,” We turned onto the long road that led to his parent’s house. “I might after the Olympics.”
It was interesting to hear about his goals post-swimming. I never had those. My entire life was going to be swimming, and then, once I could no longer compete, I was opening my own swim school. After a couple of years of coaching under my belt, the plan was to start training professional athletes until I could join the Olympic coaching team. The accident was a very traumatic and eye-opening experience for me, so most of those plans ended up getting changed and modified over the years.
“What about you?” Jimin asked, pulling up to the curb.
“I went through an accelerated program at UCCS. Just graduated with my Masters in Athletic Training back in April.”
Neither one of us seemed to be ready to break the bubble we created. Even if we were just talking about school, it felt too intimate to leave. Holding hands in my car was new and I was worried if I opened the car door all of this would turn out to be a dream. The date, the confession; all of it. 
“I should get going,” Jimin sighed, still not moving his hand from mine. “It’s late and I have to drive home.”
I was the first one to move away. He was right. It was almost midnight and I had a really difficult time tonight. All of that yelling really took a toll on me. Jimin did not move until he heard the click of my seatbelt unfastening. 
“See you tomorrow?” He asked when I rounded the car. Getting out of the car, he held the door open as I slid inside. “I know we were out later than we thought we’d be.”
I nodded, “We can have a late morning. 8:30 instead of 6.”
“Sounds good. See you then.”
He closed my car door and jogged to his truck. It was parked in the driveway today. I pressed the button to roll my window down. 
“Drive safe!” I called out.
Looking over his shoulder, Jimin grinned and threw a hand up. I watched him climb into Fiona and tried to keep myself from worrying too much. It was so dark outside and he could be exhausted behind the wheel. Who knows what could happen to him.
He caught me staring and waved at me again. I returned it with a small smile. The truck stopped for a second and his phone was his hand. My cell phone vibrated in the cupholder.
Jimin: I’ll be okay
Jimin: Text you when I get home, k?
Looking back at the truck, I found him already looking at me. I nodded my response. He smiled at me again, waved, before finally backing out of the driveway. I did not move until I could no longer see his truck in my rearview. My phone buzzed one more time.
Jimin: At the stop sign on Woodland and Ann Arbor-Saline
Jimin: Go home. I’m here. I’m fine.
I hesitated texting him back when I knew he was driving, but decided that I would just have to trust he would not open it until it was safe.
Me: Get out of my head, kid
Finally putting my car in drive, I threw my phone back in its spot and made the ten minute drive down the road to the Anderson house. All of the lights were off when I pulled up and I was as quiet as a mouse walking to the backyard. 
I was beyond tired but still needed to get my nighttime routine done. Stripping out of my clothes, I turned on the shower and took off my makeup. Tonight wasn’t a wash night, so I was not in the shower for long. I heard my phone vibrating as I put on lotion and I quickly threw on a night shirt and went to my bedroom.
Jimin: Who says you aren’t in mine, meemaw
Jimin: I’m home now so you can get some sleep
Jimin: Night, geezer
I snorted. That was a new one. Crawling into bed, I got comfortable under my blankets and thought about a good comeback.
Me: Thank you
Me: Geezer? That’s such an geriatric thing to say, you whippersnapper
Jimin: LOL night 🫰🏼
Me: Night 🌜
I quick sent Taehyung a text to make sure he and Milo go home safely before putting my phone on the charger. Jungkook sent a text to our group chat an hour ago to let us know he was in his apartment back in Detroit. He was in Ann Arbor so often since Darcy lived out here, but he had bought a multi-million dollar home in Corktown when was first signed to the Red Wings in 2019. Milo was the one to reply to my text, signing his name at the bottom, since Taehyung passed out in the car on their way back home.
I took my medications and started up a game of solitaire while I waited for them to kick in. My psychologist had sent me to Michigan with a three month supply. I was planning my first trip back next week so I could see the boys in time for their first big competition of the season. While I was in town, I would pick up another three month supply. We were making the arrangements work as best as we could, and I was lucky I had a large group of people willing to support me during this transition.
Finally I felt the sleeping pills kicking in and I went to my white noise app. I hated falling asleep in silence and Emery had suggested the app while we were in a session. I paid for a yearly subscription and never regretted the fifty bucks. It had been a huge help in lulling me to bed.
Lights out and blankets wrapped snugly around my body, I closed my eyes and thought about everything that had happened. Jimin liked me back, asked me on a date, and told all of his friends about his infatuation with me before I even realized something else was going on. I was his dream girl. That put a lazy smile on my face. Then, I could no longer think about anything and was plunged into a dreamless sleep.
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Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga @sumzysworld @chimmisbae @adventures-in-bookland
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© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.
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libraryofloveletters · 6 months
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Christmas With The Robertsons 
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Trent Alexander Arnold x Fem!Reader
Warnings: mentions of sickness, built in babysitters, kids are so much work, you're chilling and trent isn't, you have baby fever, their kids are soooo cute.
Word Count: 704
Author's Note: now I don't know the names of andy's kids so I just called the two older ones the toddlers and then thy have a baby that I believe they had recently ? or are soon to have (I sweat I saw that rachel was pregnant at family day lol) but if I'm wrong, do forgive me lol
--
Andy and Rachel have a holiday date night and call their two favourite people in the world to come babysit for them; auntie y/n and uncle Trenty.
Their usual babysitter is sick, Rachel suggests that they should just cancel their date night but Andy is determined, he's going to find someone to watch the kids.
"Trent should be free," he says, grabbing his phone. "Don't bother him," Rachel tells her husband, the man had already dialled his friend and was awaiting an answer.
You hear Trent's phone ring, the man had left it on the couch while he was in the shower. Andy's name on the screen so you pick up.
"Hi Andy!" You smiled, the man seemed surprised to hear your voice. "Trent's in the shower, what's up?"
"Oh uh, see our usual babysitter is out with the flu and Rachel and I have a date night planned. We-" there's a smacking noise from his end, "ow! I," he corrects himself. "was wondering if you and Trent would be able to watch the kids for the evening."
"Of course!" You tell him, "we'll be over as soon as Trent's done in the shower. you know how long he takes."
Andy laughs, "yeah, sounds good. Thanks!"
Just as you hang up, the bathroom door opens. "Did my phone ring?" Trent shouts from upstairs.
"Yeah! It was Andy! We have to babysit!" You shout back, "so hurry up!"
Trent grumbles something and goes off to get ready before meeting you downstairs. It was a short drive over to the Robertsons'. Rachel opens the door, you and her chatting about the kids; their bedtimes, what they like to eat and do, normal things to go over.
Andy and Trent were in the living room with the kids, Andy was rocking the baby who was about to hang over to Trent. The vice captain looked scared; you weren't sure if it was because he was scared he'd drop the baby or if he was actually scared of the baby.
"I'll take my little munchkin," you tell him, Andy gently hands you the baby and you settle on the couch with the baby all wrapped up in their blanket.
"If you need anything-" Rachel starts but Andy cuts her off. "They'll call babe, let's go before we miss our reservation."
The first 2 hours were pretty chill, you and Trent played with the kids and watched shows. The two older ones put on a show for you two, something about a fireman and a doctor, you and Trent watched intently.
You caved and ordered pizza for dinner even though Rachel had left food for them, you, more so Trent, couldn't say no when they said "please uncle Trenty!" And gave him puppy eyes.
The 5 of you ended up watching the grinch, the cartoon version which was superior, until the kids started to get sleepy. You had settled Trent with the baby, you figured he could handle the feeding as it was a bottle while you took the kids to bed.
You settled them in, reading them a quick story before tucking them in and making your way back down.
"You okay babe?" you asked him, seeing Trent's distressed face.
"Baby's making a weird face." He tells you, unsure what to do. You hum, "did you try burping?"
"What?" He asks, clearly confused.
You put the cloth over your shoulder, taking the baby from him before holding the baby upright and patting their back softly until you hear a burp.
"See," you turn to show him the baby already settling. "Just needed to burp."
Trent seemed confused still but you shook your head never mind, cradling the little one as you sat next to your boyfriend.
It wasn't half an hour later that Rachel and Andy came in, the two of them giggling as they walked in. "Oh hi," Andy says, almost forgetting you two were there.
"Did they give you any trouble?" Rachel asks, walking over to the couch. You give the baby to Rachel, "they were perfect."
"So when are you expecting a little one from you two?" Andy notices the way you looked at their little one, all the affection in your eyes.
"Not anytime soon," Trent answers, "one night was enough."
"Oh hush," you smacked your boyfriend's arm lightly, "they were perfect, let us know if you need a babysitter anytime."
237 notes · View notes
concreteangel92 · 25 days
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Behind Closed Doors (Alternate Ending)
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Andy Biersack x female reader x Noah Sebastian
18+
Masterlist
Warnings: threesome, double penetration, male masturbation, degrading kink, dom/sub relationship, PiV, facial
A/N: couldn’t decide which ending I wanted so I decided to write both, this one is much more filthier then the first lol if you haven’t read the main oneshot then I’ll link it, don’t technically have to read it first but it gives more context.
MAIN ONESHOT
@thefallennightmare just for you 😏
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You turned your head to see Andy had risen from his chair, taking what clothes he had left off, his dick looking painful hard in his hand.
“I’m going to need to fuck you baby, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen but I need to feel you now.”
Noah sat back against the headboard while Andy rolled you into your front and brought you up onto your knees with your ass in the air.
“Why don’t you show me what that pretty mouth can do while he fucks you?”
Looking up at Noah you saw that he was still hard and clearly ready to go again, you nodded your head and reached out to stroke his hard length, you felt Andy enter you from behind, your walls instantly clenching around him as he started to move, a choked moan falling from your lips before you took Noah into your mouth, his hand gripping into your hair while he started to rut up into you.
The feeling of being filled from both ends was like nothing you’ve ever felt before, you felt so full, both men using your holes almost like you were just some sex toy for them to play with and my god you were loving every second of it. You moaned around Noah’s cock while you had your husband slamming into you, his hands bruising your hips and slapping your cheeks, you soon felt your second orgasm approaching.
You moaned again around Noah’s length and felt his grip in your hair tighten, your own end on the brink when you felt Andy reach his hand around your front.
“Give us one more angel, I know you can” his voice sounding incredibly strained, clearly holding himself back.
You pulled off of Noah and cried out as your orgasm hit you full force, you felt your legs trembling and your body tensed beautifully as the room was filled with your moans of ecstasy. Andy not once letting up through it.
“Where do you want it angel?”
You lifted your head up at your husband’s words, Andy still thrusting into you and seeing Noah stroking himself in front of you. You only had one image in your mind.
“I…I want you both to…”
You trailed off suddenly shy and Noah tilted his head to the side while staring at you.
“Use your words princess”
You felt your cheeks go warm and your pussy clench.
“I want you both to finish on me”
Andy stilled his thrusts all together while Noah smirked at you.
“You want a facial baby? From both of us?” Andy’s hands tightened on your hips as he spoke.
You nodded and watched Noah’s cock twitched in his hand.
“Such a filthy whore”
You groaned at his degradation while Noah’s eyes were near enough pure black staring into yours.
You felt Andy slip out of you and moved you to the floor so you were on your knees in front of them, now both standing in front of you while stroking themselves.
You took in both of their appearances, both standing tall, sweat covering their bodies, their tattoos almost moving under their skin which each movement they made, their dicks hard and ready to burst in their hands. It was a breathtaking sight.
“Keep your eyes on us until we say”
You stared up at both of them, your hands fell onto your lap and you felt an ache between your legs at what was about to happen.
Andy looked down at you “beg for it”
Completely lost in your submissive roll, your head felt beautifully light and your body was tingling.
“Please, please give me your cum, I’ve been such a good girl for both of you, please I need it so badly”
Both men groaned simultaneously.
“Stick that pretty tongue out angel, we’re going to paint you up real good”
You obeyed Noah’s request instantly and held your tongue out while both men stroked themselves faster, groaning out incoherent mumbles and curses, the sounds of skin slapping on skin filled the room and you never stopped looking from each of them until you heard you husband call out.
“Fuck…I’m going to cum”
Noah’s low, almost guttural growl followed.
“Me too”
You closed your eyes immediately and held your tongue out more as you felt hot ropes of cum hit your lower face from both sides, your head jumping back slightly at the feeling, you took as much in your mouth as you could while you felt the rest dripping down onto your chest. When you felt no more and heard their groans quietening down, you opened your eyes to look up at them.
Both men were catching their breath and panting hard, once both were looking at you, you swallowed every last drop you’d caught, not once breaking the eye contact. Your husband spoke up first.
“And what do you say angel?”
“Thank you both for using me”
You watched Noah walk to the bathroom and came back with a warm wash cloth to start cleaning you up and sat you in the edge of the bed.
“You were such a good girl for us”
Once you were semi cleaned, you saw Noah going to get dressed so you reached out for him.
“Stay for a while?”
After seeing Andy nod his consent, they all settled down on the bed.
“We need to get you cleaned up properly baby, I’ll run the shower in a minute”
You nodded in response and started to smile.
“You boys going to scrub my back?”
A joint laugh filled the room and Noah responded.
“Don’t think it’s your back that needs to be cleaned…..that was incredible by the way, definitely the most fun I’ve had in awhile”
“We maybe it doesn’t have to be a one night thing”
You had a feeling the rest of the tour was going to be interesting.
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wjhik · 10 months
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I'm So Proud Of You (Trent Alexander-Arnold)
A/N: finally some trent content
Y/N's POV:
"Trent here. I'm not available right now. Leave a message after the beep." The call goes to voicemail. I've been trying to reach Trent for the past hour. He most likely has his phone in the locker room while he's on the field. I think this is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Going through contractions, timing them, and controlling my breathing. All while trying to grab the last of my things to take to the hospital. As my contractions get closer and closer, they're getting more painful. I really need Trent here.
"Thank you for calling Liverpool FC. This is Lilian. How can I help you?" Thank god someone picked up. I've called everyone at the club, and no one has answered. I had to resort to calling the gaffers secretary. "Hi, Lilian. This is Y/N calling, Trent's wife. Listen, I've been trying to reach anyone for the past hour, and no one has answered. If you're not too busy, could you tell him to call me- FUCK!!!" This is the most painful contraction so far, and it had to happen while I was on the phone. "Oh my- Yes, of course. Are you alright?" She says. I can hear some rustling in the background, assuring me that she was getting up. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just get Trent to call me as soon as possible. Thank you!" I say hanging up as another contraction comes in.
Trent's POV:
"So how's the missus?" Robbo asks me. "Yeah, she's alright. The pregnancy's been hard on her, but she's handling it amazingly." I tell him. "She's still pregnant?" I hear one of them say. "I swear, it's been a whole year." Another chimes in. "She is very overdue, 10 months. But the doctor says it's alright. She wants the baby out, however. She is well over done." I say, squeezing some water into my mouth. I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn around. It's Klopp's secretary. What does she want from me?
"Mr. Alexander-Arnold, your wife called. She said she's been trying to reach you and if you could call her back ASAP." She tells me. "Oh. My phone's not with me. Did she tell you what she wanted?" I ask her. Why would Y/N call her? "No, she didn't. But she did sound like she was in pain." In pain? Did she hurt herself? She's so clumsy these days. "You better go, Trent. Let us know when he's here." Robbo says, patting me on the shoulder. "When who's here?" I ask him. Why is he so excited? "Your son?!" He says, almost appalled. "What are you on about?" I ask him, slowly getting up. "Trent, are you alright?" Virg says. "Your wife's in labor!" Andy says. I didn't even think of that! "OH MY GOD!! SHE'S IN LABOR!" I say, running into the locker rooms.
Klopp's POV: (jus for fun)
"Alright, boys. Break's over. Back to work!! Where's Trent?" I ask the players. He knows better. There's still 10 minutes before training is over. Trent isn't like this. He doesn't skip practice for anything. "His missus has gone into labor." Andy tells me. Good for him! (lol this was so unnecessary)
Y/N's POV:
This fucker better get here soon. I'm dying here. I take out my phone to text him again. I see that he read the messages 10 minutes ago. Did he really leave me on read? After all those messages and calls, he leaves me on read? I so wish I wasn't pushing this guys baby out of my vagina. Fucking asshole. "AAAHHH!!" I let out a guttural scream as I bounce up and down on the exercise ball the asshole bought me. I feel my hand being taken. I pull it back in reflex. I look up to see my husband. "I'm so sorry I didn't answer your messages, love. I left as soon as I saw them. Are you alright? How far apart are the contractions?" Maybe he's not that bad. "5 minutes. And they last around 50 seconds." I tell him. "How long has it been?" He asks me, sitting next to me. "Long enough. I need to go to the hospital." I tell him. "You stay here, I'll put the thing in the car." He says, running to grab our bags.
"How much longer?" I say, holding my stomach with one hand and the other squeezing the grab handle. I have my eyes squeezed shut in pain. Trent stops the car and runs over to my side of the car. I open my eyes to realized we are stopped right in front of the hospital. Not parked. Stopped in the middle of the road. Trent opens my door and helps me out of the car.
I'm sitting in the waiting room while Trent talks to the receptionist. "My wife is in labor. Her contraction are 5 minutes apart and last a minute. It's been like that for an hour or more. Please help." The receptionist calls for a gurney and asks him to fill out some paper work. He fills out all of my details for me.
The nurses have put me into my room. Trent has somehow managed to get the best room in the hospital. They have started me on some painkillers, and I feel much better now. "Baby, can you go get the bags?" I tell him. I remember that the car is still blocking the road. "Are you sure? I don't want to leave you alone." He's so sweet. "I'm fine for now, but this is the only opportunity you're going to get. So, go!"
"One more push, love. You're doing amazing." Trent says, standing on the right of my hospital bed and allowing me to squeeze his hand with all my might. (im going to spare yall your screaming and the feeling of your vagine being ripped open) I can feel the baby's head crown and eventually come out. I'm extremely drugged up. The nurses gave me a slight break. Trent leans down and kisses my extremely sweaty forehead. He wipes the tears away from my cheeks. "I'm so proud of you. You're almost there.
I feel the stream of cheeks run down my cheek as I hear my baby cry. The nurse lightly rubs the baby clean and places him on my chest. "Hi, baby..." I say with a very high pitched voice. Trent rubs my shoulder to say 'good job'. The nurse gently takes the baby away from me to clean him up.
Our families have already visited us and have left. Trent is laying down on the couch next to my bed, scrolling through the shit cable channels. The T.V. is muted, both Trent and I too scared to wake up the baby. He's on my chest, feeding. I can't even express how special it felt to have my baby on my skin for the first time.
"Trent?" I ask him, my eyes still on my baby. "Hmm?" He says, his eyes still glued to the screen. "Take off your shirt." I tell him. He looks at me, raising his eyebrows to me and giving me that look. "I know it's been a while, but it's a bit too soon, no?" He tell me. "Not like that, Trent! You haven't held him skin-to-skin yet." I whisper yell. He knows what I meant. He takes off his shirt. I get up and with my son in my arms and I place him into my husband's arms. "Oh my god...He's so precious." Trent says, looking up at me. He stares at our son for a while while I sit on the arm of the couch. I look down at his face to see tears running down his face. My boys.
Wattpad: funkyfishfeet
DM for requests
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my-castles-crumbling · 9 months
Text
You Asked For It
Thanks, @apoetsworld for the idea! I kinda ran away with it, lol.
The package arrived on a Thursday.
Sirius and James were eating a very late breakfast, shoving bread down their throats at such a rapid pace that Lily Evans was throwing them a look of true revulsion as she left the table. Sirius didn’t particularly care.
The owl, huge and annoyed-looking, flew into the Great Hall with a parcel the size of the desk Sirius and James shared in Transfiguration, though it looked much lighter. The package fell on the boys’ plates with a thunk, dispersing juice and water and eggs and bacon, creating a mess that Remus would have complained about had he been as late as they were.
Sirius and James exchanged looks. “Th’ hell’s tha’?” James asked thickly around a mouthful of bread, looking curious.
Sirius narrowed his eyebrows. “S’not like I usually get packages from home!”
But the small tag was addressed to him. Briefly, he wondered if his parents had sent some wizard version of an explosive, and some irrational part of him wanted to dive under the table.
It seemed James was thinking the same thing, because he prodded the package with his wand.
They both flinched and leaned back, but it only crinkled slightly.
Sirius used the tip of his own wand to flip over the tag and leaned forward to read, Happy Birthday! If anyone asks, you didn’t get these from me. Love, Andy.
They exchanged looks.
Sirius’s sixteenth birthday was a week away, still, but it seemed his cousin, Andromeda, was sending a gift a bit early. As she was the only family member he particularly liked, he looked forward to her gifts each year.
He grinned at James and ripped the paper off of the package, the Transfiguration class they had in five minutes long forgotten.
When the gift was revealed, his excitement turned to confusion.
Nerf, the brightly-colored packaging read in yellow lettering. It was four strange objects, identical in shape, but different in color. Included in the packaging were many small, orange cylinders made of foam.
“What the fuck…?” Sirius muttered.
But then James pointed to the picture on the packaging. It depicted a boy of probably thirteen or fourteen holding one of the objects while one of the cylinders flew out of it.
“It’s what Muggles use instead of a wand, I think,” James muttered.
“To…to hurt each other?” Sirius asked incredulously.
But that didn’t make any sense. Andromeda was not a fan of violence, to be sure. Plus, why would Muggles sell such things to children? Sirius ran his finger over the foam cylinders. They were soft, and he didn’t think they could do much damage at all, even when moving at top speed.
Then, he thought about the toys some wizarding children received when they were small- wands that only made funny noises and lit up. Maybe…
“D’you think it’s a toy version? Of the real thing?” He asked.
James grinned. “Well, let’s find out.”
It is to be noted that they were stupid teenagers and did not make the best choices.
The Great Hall was deserted now, so they had no problem taking the four packages and bringing them back up to their dorm room. Once there, they unwrapped two of them, only struggling and swearing for about fifteen minutes, working on the little wires and pieces of plastic with frustrated expressions, before remembering they were wizards and could use their wands.
Sirius placed a cylinder inside one, and then waved it about, feeling a bit foolish.
Nothing happened.
“Perhaps there’s a button?” James suggested, looking perplexed.
They looked at the picture again, and noticed that the bloke in the picture had his finger on a small piece of plastic.
Sirius held the device the same way and pulled his finger.
Click!
Both boys jumped, and let out small high-pitched screams that would have been embarrassing had they been in anyone else’s company.
But they ignored their momentary lapse of manliness and Sirius narrowed his eyes. “Nothing happened,” he whispered, still a bit fearful.
James screwed up his face in concentration and looked at the picture again. “Look, Padfoot, the bloke has his hand on this piece, too.” He gestured to a colorful piece of plastic that covered the top of the toy, and looked like it could slide back and forth.
Sirius nodded, and pulled the piece back, making the device click softly.
They looked nervously at each other.
Sirius pulled at the small piece of plastic again.
Click! Thud!
The cylinder shot out as if by magic, flying across the dormitory and smacking into the window hard.
Sirius and James stared, mouths open in wonder. Then, they grinned at each other, identical evil looks on their faces.
James was quickest to the draw, having already put a cylinder in his toy, and he whipped it around to point it at Sirius. With a Click!, Sirius screamed in horror.
“Prongs!” He wailed, as if hit with a Cruciatus Curse, “You hit my bloody nipple!”
James fell into fits of laughter, melting onto his bed as he cackled with glee.
But he did not see Sirius quickly retaliate, until he felt a sting in his left shoulder.
“Bloody fuck!” He yelled in surprise, whipping his body around instinctually.
“Revenge!” Sirius cackled, and threw himself behind Remus’s bed before James could properly sit up.
But then, James spotted the other two packages. “Pads! Padfoot!” He said loudly, trying to get Sirius’s attention.
Sirius poked his eyes out from behind Remus’s bed, looking a bit deranged, “What?”
“There’s four. One of each of us.”
There was, and by the time Remus and Peter returned from Transfiguration, they were ready. The Common Room had been completely torn apart- furniture displaced and moved about into two makeshift forts, books on the floor, pillows strewn about and used as roofing material.
When Remus and Peter entered, looking for the other two boys, they both yelled from their respective protective fortresses. Remus was snatched up by Sirius while Peter was grabbed by James, both brought unwillingly into the safety of the strongholds.
“Sirius, what the fuck?” Remus asked as he tripped over a pillow and almost landed in Sirius’s lap.
And Sirius grinned back at him, tie wrapped around his head like a headband, Marlene McKinnon’s eyeliner swiped under his eyes like war paint. “Moony. Welcome. To combat.”
Remus stared incredulously.
Sirius handed him one of the plastic objects and Remus’s eyes widened. “Sirius, where did you two get Nerf guns?”
“Is that what they’re called?” Sirius asked distractedly as he fixed a wayward pillow. “Andy gave them to me. Now listen, here’s the plan…”
And with that, he explained to Remus his fourteen-point plan for defeating James and Peter, complete with dungbombs, a five-string quartet as a distraction, and a brief detour into the Forbidden Forest for reinforcements.
“Sirius, what–” Remus began to ask, but he was cut off by James’s maniacal scream as the fort caved in from above, and suddenly, they were completely smothered.
The next fifteen minutes were complete and utter chaos. While Sirius and James had originally agreed on teams, it seemed that that agreement went out the window rather quickly, as after Sirius and Remus extracted themselves from their collapsed fort, it was every man for himself.
Foam pieces flew, and soon the Common Room was in complete disarray- broken bits of glass and paper on the floor, disgruntled paintings yelling, Gryffindors running for their lives, orange cylinders everywhere.
Each of the four boys were bruised and battered, screaming obscenities at each other, accusations of cheating flying, as they shot the little orange darts back and forth. After some time, James and Peter both seemed to completely give up, throwing pillows and light objects from their spots behind couches. Remus, it appeared, had the best aim, and hit Sirius and James each in the chests several times while Peter laughed hysterically.
“Alright, you asked for it,” Sirius yelled, leveling his gun at Remus. Then, miraculously, Sirius landed a lucky shot, right on Remus’s cheekbone, and he turned to the shorter boy, giving him a look. The air shifted, and the rest of the boys froze.
“Erm…Sorry, Moony,” Sirius whispered breathlessly, cheeks pink from exertion.
But Remus smirked just slightly. “Gonna kiss it better, Padfoot?”
Sirius inhaled sharply as James and Peter exchanged a grin.
And just as Sirius made to move– maybe to take Remus up on the offer? Maybe to run? He wasn’t sure– Minerva McGonagall walked into the room.
“What on Earth are you four doing?” she asked, trembling with rage.
They were silent.
Until–
Click!
Sirius wasn’t sure where it came from, only that it wasn’t him. But suddenly, one of the small, orange cylinders whacked into McGonagall’s hat, knocking it clear off of her head.
And then James yelled, “Run!”
That was enough direction for Sirius, who bounded out of the portrait hole, followed by Remus, and found himself in a broom closet nearby, Remus closing the door behind them.
“D’you reckon she followed us?” he asked breathlessly, looking up at the taller boy, laughing a bit.
“No, but I don’t think we’ll avoid detention forever,” Remus answered wryly. “Probably shouldn’t have done that.”
“I– it was you?” Sirius asked, shocked. Remus was the last one he would have thought would do such a thing.
Remus chuckled. “It was just…the hat. It was such an easy target.”
Sirius stared, and at the same time, they both burst out laughing, gripping each others’ shoulders to stay upright, tears streaming with mirth.
When they finally quieted, Sirius met Remus’s eyes, and his stomach swooped a bit. He felt a twinge of courage, and he stood on his toes to kiss Remus’s cheek.
The taller boy’s eyes widened. “What–?”
Sirius smirked. “You asked for it, Moony.” And with that, he exited the closet, heart pounding, grinning at the sound that Remus was making as he walked away.
Please leave kudos on AO3!
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vineofroses · 2 months
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Fic Pride Friday
thanks for the tag @liminalmemories21 !
Rules: Post your favourite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.
large popcorn with a bag of m&ms (in terms of theme and pulling the theme throughout the fic, this is probably still my favorite fic i've written, and i wrote it three years ago! lol. the old guard.)
The screen in front of her blurs, and she’s in another theater, in another time. Andy, Nicky, Joe, they drop away. In their place is ... she glances to her left, and he’s there. Laughing at whatever is on screen as he eats his popcorn. They snuck into Bridesmaids. Is this then? Nile can’t look away, transfixed on this memory of her brother. She knows it’s a memory but it feels so real; the smell of buttery popcorn fills her nose. The lights from the screen dance across her brother’s face. He leans toward her. She knows what he’s going to say before he says it.
“Can you pass me the m&ms?” the memory whispers. It echoes through her. She holds onto it, traps it inside the very deepest parts of her and doesn’t let go. He fades away just as quickly as he appeared. Where he just was, Andy still is. She catches her eye, but Nile turns back toward the screen, ready to get lost in someone else’s adventure for a while.
peace (second Lone Star fic, where poetry was my focus. this part was absolutely my favorite section. Lone Star.)
Slowly but surely new life sprouted from the ground right at their feet. The embers of yesterday faded as he grasped for the ever growing vines. He latched onto the first signs of life so quickly he never realized his hand was the only one reaching out.
a call (with anything i write i always want the end to have a punch and i really liked how this one turned out. shadowhunters.)
“Forgive me for being so forward, Alexander, but you don’t strike me as someone who receives compliments very well,” Magnus says.
Alec raises his eyebrow. A challenge.
Magnus huffs, shaking his head. “I was going to tell you that you have a lovely laugh.”
Alec ducks his dead, smiling into his coke. He can feel the blush rising in his cheeks.
Magnus laughs, delighted by being right. “You’re going to have to get used to compliments, Alexander.”
“Oh, why is that?”
“Because you deserve to hear them,” Magnus says, like it’s a simple truth.
Alec stares at Magnus, the light, fluttery feeling returning. Magnus stares back, and in his eyes Alec sees all his potential, waiting for him to answer back.
echoes (im not very confident about detailing atmosphere and blocking character movements but this part i thought i did pretty well. Lone Star.)
It’s quiet right now. A clock ticks on the wall above his head. An occasional shuffle of someone adjusting their sitting position in the hospital’s unfortunate chairs. Across from him the scratches of Marjan’s pen almost lull him to sleep. But then Mateo’s tapping foot drags him back to wakefullness. Every once in a while, the crinkle of a turned page tunes him into Judd and the magazine he’s pretending to read. Next to Judd, Paul sits unmoving, except for his eyes, silently checking in with Carlos. Each time Carlos nods, but he’s not sure what he means by it. Thank you for calling me. Yes, I’m still here. Yes, I’m scared too.
halted beginnings (really just the last line of this paragraph is my absolute fave. Lone Star.)
Huh. He thinks that seems like something one should remember. The anxious pacing throughout the courtroom, the bored looking witness, plucked randomly from the staff milling about their day. The weeds they pulled from the ground and fashioned into make-shift rings. And the look on his parents’ faces when they showed up to dinner that evening and told them. How a moment’s piercing silence was almost enough for Carlos to doubt that this was what his parents wanted, until cheers and congratulations rang out, engulfing them in a joyous cocoon of happily ever after. The doubt slithered away, defeated. Carlos hugged his parents. In his father’s embrace, he closed his eyes to the look his sisters shared between them, and thought, this is what pride feels like.
why (carlos being fucking dramatic about doing something nice for TK just because it involves Lou II. crack fic! Lone Star)
"Tada," Carlos says with as much cheer as he can muster. This was his idea but he's ready to be out of ideas and never follow through on them ever again. He will obviously accept the award for best husband of century but he will also let it be known that this has been torture.
TK reaches for Lou II and Carlos is happy to hand him over. Lou II agrees if his wiggling body is any indication of how happy he is to see TK. Carlos scoffs. He just bought him pajamas, but okay.
fundamental (there are actually so many parts to this one that i love that it's hard to choose. i was truly in my unhinged writing phase a couple of weeks ago lollllllll. this fic is also one im just super proud of because of the writing process of it thanks in large part to @goldenskykaysani for making the editing process so much fun and thoughtful and yes i will keep tagging you every time i mention this fic because it really would not exist without your help so deal with it!!! lol. this fic also one where every time i think about it im just like, yeah! i fucking did that!)
Iris, I said, Iris, Iris, Iris. I started giggling because wouldn’t that be funny, Dad, that I could find a way to make you proud of me even if it meant dying? Iris, I said again. Would you ever marry me? And she fell back laughing, her beer sloshing over the rim, and I followed her down, sprawled out on her bedroom floor, watching the ceiling fan spin. I took another sip, and filed the question away. 
--
no pressure tagging: @paperstorm @lemonlyman-dotcom @alrightbuckaroo @bonheur-cafe @sznofthesticks
@ladytessa74 @theghostofashton
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campbyler · 10 months
Note
HELLOOO firstly CHAPTER 4 WAS SO GOOD HELP IT HAD ME BUSHING MORE THAN ANY IRL PERSON COULD EVER BE CAPABLE OF. There was a lil sentence that was like ‘for some reason it had a lightswitch at each bunk, Mike supposes its practical.’ AND I WAS LIKE 🤭i think i know where this is going🤭 BUT IT WASNT THEM KISSING?! IT WAS NOT THEM FULLY HAVING A MAKE-OUT SESH WHILE SWOON BY BEACH WEATHER PLAYS. I didnt enjoy it any less tho 🤭 i was texting my friend like 👹GO READ IT. GO READ IT ITS SO GOOD.👹
Secondly when i say that IM GOING INSANE OVER THIS FIC i mean that im going 👏CRAY👏ZIE👏 LIKE WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY KISSED WHEN THEY WERE THIRTEEN?! DID THEY JUST KISS ON THE DOWNLOW?! DID THEY HAVE A RELATIONSHIP?! IS THAT WHERE THE RIVALRY COMES FROM?! WHAT DOES IT MEAN 😭 WHY DO THEY BOTH HAVE ISSUES WOTH FEARLESS BY TAYLOR SWIFT?? DID SOMETHING HAPPEN?? IS IT A CASUAL COINCIDENCE?! HELP- i have no braincells left floating around THEYRE ALL CAPTURED BY THE ASTOUNDING WORK THAT IS THIS FIC 🫡
When will someone prey on MY neurodivergence and propensity for liking kissing and being kissed and partaking in the all-around act of kissing 😭 (im aroace so i dont even like kissing or being kissed OR partaking in the all-around act of kissing BUT IM STAYING DELULU 🫡)
Also figure you out by djo being in the playlist was such a pleasant surprise cause its one of my favorite songs AND ALSO i listened to it recently, said to myself ‘hey this is kinda acswy byler coded 😌’ AND THEN FORGOT ABOUT IT?? 🤦‍♀️ so thanks for reminding me about the acswy byler coding of it, it’ll be (even more) on repeat now 🙏 LIVE LAUGH LOVE DJO ✊
Anyways I luv this fic so so much (if you hadnt noticed yet lol) its consuming my every waking thought (im so normal.) I HOPE U GUYS ARE DOING WELL!! 🫶🫶
THKANK YOU FOR THIS MONSTER COMMENT I WAS SO DELIGHTED TO SEE THIS COME IN!!!!!! let me try to answer appropriately 💪
LOL i think when i wrote that in (because the kiss scene was the first part written of ch04/acswy in general) andi commented on it like HEHEHEHE as well! we'd been vocal about the parent trap references before so i think it was a nice easter egg to put in there! there were definitely some people who knew the kiss was coming but maybe not a full blown make out while swoon by beach weather plays in the background 💘
i will remain silent on all of the intricacies of mike and will's 13 year old kissing and the fearless lore BUT i can at least reiterate what ch04 confirmed: they have kissed before! they were 13! it was mike's first kiss! at this time, i cannot confirm or deny that it was will's first kiss as well!
loving the way this neurodivergent line is probably the standout of ch04 because when i initially wrote it, it was definitely somewhat of a joke -- and then suni and andi said NO LEAVE THAT IN and it's everyone's favorite HAHA
ok thank you SO much for saying that about figure you out because it was the one song on the playlist i wasn't sure about! i think that it fits so well lyrically, but sonically i wasn't super sure, and then suni yelled at me so it stayed on and i'm glad because i also love it! glad you pegged it as an acswy song before it even got put on the official playlist!!
thank you again for your comment!! we are obsessed with you!!!!!!
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stonechild · 5 months
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2023 favorites!
tagged by @venusmoon tysm ! <;3 (i am also not ranking but more so listing and recommending)
albums these are primarily alternative/indie rock
pinback by pinback (1999) // probably my favorite artist find of 2023! ive listened to a fair bit of pinbacks discography now but this is the one i keep coming back to. - my favs are hurley, crutch, tripoli, chaos engine, loro, and versailles
widows weeds by silversun pickups (2019) // ive known about silversun pickups for a while but never listened to any of their albums. this one has a fair bit of songs i liked :) - my favs are neon wound, straw man, songbirds, and simpatico
weird revolution by butthole surfers (2001) // a surprising love i also found this year! i was initially drawn in by the name of the band and the album artwork being so fun. again a fair amount of songs i liked. - my favs are shame of life, shit like that, intelligent guy, get down, and yentel
books i dont think i finished a single book last year.. lol.... but i can recommend:
carrie by stephen king (fiction, 1974) // im almost done with it and i feel it to be better than any movie adaptation ive seen. Its suspenseful and heartbreaking.
sex at dawn by christopher ryan and cacilda jetha (non-fiction, 2010) // im half way through this book i was reading over the summer. im definetely planning on finishing it this year. I appreciate it for helping me expand my mind on what sex is and what it can be.
movies a mess of genres and tones. a grab bag.
tar, 2022, R, drama dir. todd field main player: cate blanchet - dude i cant stop thinking about this movie... its kinds pretentious and has a mildly confusing plot, but i love it... i feel compelled to rewatch it just to gather more information i may have missed on my first viewing. quite frankly this movie is listed purely based on its unbreakable and mysterious hold over me. also its beautiful.
uncle buck, 1989, PG, comedy dir. john hughes main player: john candy - this movie was so unexpectantly sweet! i hadnt ever seen anything featuring john candy, and i found him to be incredibly charming and lovable. I also found myself laughing a lot and left it feeling warm inside.
contact, 1997, PG, sci-fi dir. robert zemeckis main player: jodie foster - this one is wild. ive always been a sucker for the scifi genre, but this one also tackles religion making it a very interesting look at the rifts and overlaps between the two. that plus the messages regarding grief, communication, global culture, and the hypothetical politics of extraterrestrial contact are welcomed. loved this one :)
fools rush in, 1997, PG-13, romance/comedy dir. andy tennant main players: salma hayek/matthew perry - im not much of a romcom watcher, but this movie is very cute! it has some issues of its time, but overall i found it to be a fun watch, especially with my boyfriend. in light of matthew perry's passing (i watched this not too long before it happened) i felt compelled to add this one to the list. him and salma bring down to earth and genuine chemistry to this movie that was very sweet. <3
tagging: @stinkbeck, @official-redhood, @moldavite, @chapelcarpet, @halfwaysleeping, @immuno, @soracities, @1ight, @eviltreespirit if you'd like :) <3
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batboyblog · 1 year
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Nagging potential voters while offering them nothing has been a losing political strategy every time it's been tried. If you actually care about wresting political power from fascists - yes I am questioning your commitment - you'll get involved in on-the-ground organizing instead of acting like an asshole online. Because I cannot stress this enough: what you're doing here on tumblr? That hurt us in 2004. And 2016. And a bunch of the off-years too. Knock it off. And before you complain about my tone: I'm using the same one you did in your post. If reading this made you upset, maybe sit for a while and think about the implications of that.
lol, I honestly can't tell you how much this makes me laugh so thanks for the early morning comedy
I don't actually have any idea which of my MANY posts you found and decided to have an issue with.
Any ways, I have a Tumblr, which is mostly non-serious because in real life, my real life my real work is very serious and political and this generally is a decompression space away from that were I can express other interests, US Senators generally don't want to hear my take on comic books (well Pat Leahy....)
I'm not gonna lay out chapter and verse what I've done or do because I'm not doxing myself for an anon troll, but last election I knocked over 2,000 doors for Democratic candidates, I've been pretty open that I was HFA in 2016 and OFA before that
so generally in most of my posts I'm asking, basically begging people, to get as involved as I am, well maybe not AS involved, you don't all need jobs In politics someone has to drive the buses after all. But its very easy as a volunteer to make a huge huge impact on your local Democratic Party and on elections around you and it's amazingly healing to get out and talk to voters, a day of walking around knocking doors and talking to voters will cure you of wanting to dive bomb a strangers in box with nonsense like this.
any ways since I was you know, there, in 2004 and I'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume (since you assumed quite a lot about me) We lost that election because the Bush team totally shamelessly claimed our famous war hero candidate had in fact faked his Purple Hearts and hadn't earned his Sliver and Bronze Stars. Also they pretty shamelessly implied that a vote for Democrats was a vote for terrorism and stressed to evangelical voters that they'd ban gay marriage forever and always if Bush won re-election, which I think was very key to pulling Bush over the finish line in Ohio (and the election as a whole)
Not that that matters the "Nagging" narrative is silly, and mainly used by people who want to not feel bad for not voting being engaged. That its somehow Democrats fault for asking them to vote and pointing out the negative things that will happen if Republicans win. Thats how all campaigns since the dawn of time have worked however. All Campaigns are a mix of two things "here are the good things I would like to do" and "here are the bad things my opponent will do if they win" there's no way to campaign without the latter duh.
any ways like I said Tumblr is my silly happy place, but I'm still me, so sometimes I shoot off about the real life topics that matter to me. And here on Tumblr sometimes I can be blunter and ruder than I might on social media linked to my real life, thats not gonna change or anything I'm just saying.
finally I hope everyone gets involved, its fun its easy it makes a big difference, google your city or county and "Democrats" to find a local meeting, Everyone should check out The Sister District project, Swing Left, and Run For Something as I've said else where there are important elections happening all the time, Democrats have a chance to win the Governorship in Mississippi a dear friend of mine is down there right now working that and I couldn't be more proud of his unwavering efforts to blue the south (he helped get Andy Beshear elected in 2018) so random troll anon I hope you're doing more than uh... whatever this is, I'm gonna keep doing my thing.
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youaremyhome · 1 year
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Pieces of the Night: Resisting the New Moon
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Warnings: Dark!Rafe Cameron x Reader, 18+ NSFW, smut, HEAVY non-con/dub-con, drug use, possessive behavior, blackmail, manipulation, DARK. More to add. Read at your own risk!
Notes: 3.0k words. I just to thank everyone that has been patiently waiting for my updates and i am SO SORRY for how long this took. Bad news: this is pretty plot-heavy so no smut, good news: next chapter is Rafe's POV! so i really hope yall like it so tell me if you do or don't, i just wanna hear from ya'll!! it means so much to read what you guys think as you read and i find it just as entertaining as writing the series lol
Taglist: @belcalis9503 @ACRAZYBIOTCH374 @fangirlwithlou@malfoytargaryen @RAFECAMERONSBADUSSY @takin-care-of-business@watersquirtpewpewboomm @magnificantmermaid @mk15x @abbybarnesstuff @lavenderhue
Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! (And I’m sorry if I missed you, I love you)
Coming home should be relaxing.  
Instead, a ball of dread sits in your esophagus as you turn the key, inching the door open. Silence greets you, shoulders dropping with the weight rolling down your back. You’re truly alone now, with no greedy hands or nipping teeth to get you.
It was a struggle to leave Rafe’s apartment. A wake-up call of kisses and an encore of his performance in the alley started your morning off, followed by an insufferable breakfast with his roommates, Topper and Kelce. Both boys seemed confused as you sat at the dining table, dressed in Rafe’s t-shirt and boxers as he placed the coffee in front of you. The boyish leers and whistles followed you down the hall when you excused yourself, their eyes pinned to the various bruises scattered on you like exploded stars.
Rafe tried insisting on you skipping class with sweet promises that escalated into whispered threats. Fortunately, you were able to escape. It costed you another pair of underwear.
Dragging yourself to your room, your body and mind argue about who’s more exhausted.
While muscles felt strained and bones felt weak, your mind had no inner voice for once. On autopilot as you change, dumping your things to the ground. A muted consciousness fogs your senses, moving like a sim controlled by a child; clumsy and aimless. Collapsing on the bed is the last thing that happens before the screen turns black.
“Get up!”
Your name is being yelled in layers, crusty eyes peeking open as your friends storm in like an army brigade. Andi squeals and jumps into your bed as their voices overlap.
“How could you keep this from us you bitch?!”
“Everyone’s talking about it –"
“Talking about what?” Your sleepy voice cracks.
“You and Rafe, duh!”
Springing up, an instant flush blisters your face, the girls hitching up an octave as they point it out. Their eyes and questions are like needlepoints poking at your skin.
Rubbing your face with both hands, you press the heels to your eyes. “It just sorta… happened.” Little specks of black and silver sprinkle your vision once you’re done squishing your eyes. There’s no point in lying to them. Well, more than you have to.
Looking between the three of them you ask, “How’d you even know so fast? I left his apartment this morning.”
“Oh, please.” Dan huffs, flicking her wrist. “Those frat boys are worst gossips than us. I heard from Mary, who got a text from Liz whose sleeping with Matt, that Topper told him how you did the walk of shame straight to your class."
Louise strikes out, pulling the neckline of your sweater down, revealing the fresh bruises on your skin. They titter, the girls settling on your bed as you pull your knees up, hugging them tightly to your chest. You tell them what they want to hear.
How Rafe had been persisting you in class while you secretly – hated – loved it, cautious because of his reputation. Leading him to beg for a date and the modified version of the dirty details. As you weave the story, struggling is replaced with play fighting, crying with giggling. The lies stumble through your dry mouth, but they assume it's from your shy demeanor.
“So, do you like… like him?” Louise asks with an impish grin and wonder in her eye. Ever the romantic.
“Personality-wise?” You can’t help the grimace on your face. “He’s alright, I guess.”
Clearly, it isn’t the answer she was hoping for; she shrugs, saying people start dating from being fuck buddies nowadays. Controlling your bodily reaction to your relationship named as that is difficult, a weak nod is all you give.
You can see the excitement they hold for you like little offerings you’re supposed to lap up. In any other case, you would be squealing along with them, maybe even having butterflies in your stomach with fuzzy wings instead of knives.
They probe for more intimate details, something you all do after a new boy. Only this time feels…dirty, that these details should never see the light of day for how dark they are. Further despising Rafe for another thing he has unknowingly ruined: the enjoyment of gossiping with your friends. You’re holding back now and it doesn’t feel right. You should be telling them how you cry at the sight of him, not that you orgasm every time (though that is begrudgingly true, too).
“Just be careful, okay?” Danielle says after the conversation winds down. Reaching over, she lays her hand on yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. It’s a simple caring gesture that has you almost breaking. The touch is innocent and good-natured, something you haven’t felt in weeks.
It reminisces the first time you had told them about Rafe. Danielle always had a better judge of character than you. Repeatedly telling you how there were some people that rather burn than put a fire out. Now, you were encircled in a hellish blue fire that licked at your skin.
You hold eye contact, a wall trembling to fall but you reinforce it with a smile. “Of course.”
Over the course of the next couple weeks, other Greek life people you knew were asking about you and Rafe. You knew the community was big enough to not know everyone, but small enough for word to spread like a slow forest fire, contained in an area before it latches onto a lingering branch, lighting its way through the whole campus.
Questions of if you were dating seemed constant, a hardy no was always the answer. Not understanding the fuss of a random frat boy sleeping with a random college girl. Frustrated with it, you had asked a sorority girl that shared the same class with you and Rafe why it even mattered.
“You’re kidding, right?” You frowned and shook your head. “Everyone knows the rich, crazy VP that loves partying more than girls has never had a girlfriend. Especially one so nice.”
You repeated to her and anyone with ears that you and Rafe were absolutely not dating.
That didn’t stop him from heightening the rumors, walking you to and from classes, a kiss hello and goodbye. Arm stretched behind your chair during lecture, playing with the ends of your hair. Public displays of affection that curdled low in your belly. It only reminded you of the leash he has on you. So taut, that with any wrong move, he’ll turn it into a cage.
Even parties weren’t as fun anymore, Rafe making an appearance more likely than not. Those nights usually ended with you drunk, high, fucked out, or a combination of the three. It didn’t matter if you tried hiding somewhere in the packed houses or fought with him there, it ended with you in his bed.
Today you were especially ticked off.
Hungover and crabby, you’re grumbly and feeling like all over shit. You don’t know why your body hurts more, from your intense hungover or the way Rafe had slammed you down to the bed last night. He was already up when you awoke, only in sweats as he ruffled through his desk drawers. He gave you a distracted morning as you got up and dressed. Though you’ve been appeasing him as of late, you don’t bother with a response.
The sound of sharp inhaling has your eyes rolling to the back of your head in annoyance. After a few moments, you feel his stare as you push your last night's clothes into your bag.
“Wanna bump?” He thumbs his nose, lounging back on the chair. “Make you feel better.”
“Yeah, no thanks.”
The words are clipped and maybe a little sarcastic, focusing on getting everything you need so you can leave. Easily ignoring him as you round the bed to head to the bathroom.
“It’ll get that stick outta your ass you woke up with.” He mutters, but you know you’re meant to hear it.
Mild annoyance flicks into anger. Anger that has you whirling back to him, letting it dominate you like he has done so many times. Arm lashing out, you swipe the rest of the cocaine off the desk. The collected powder floats into a cloud of dust as its disturbed, satisfaction thrumming through you.
“What the fuck?!”
Rafe’s up in a blink of an eye, chair clambering back to the floor. Your delight dries up when livid eyes pierce you, and before you know what you're doing, you're running away.
There’s shouting of your name, bare feet slapping the floor as he gives chase.
The hallway between his door and the entrance narrows before you, distorting into something longer, inescapable. You don’t know where you're going to go with being shoeless and phoneless but you need to get out of here before –
You’re pushed to the side, inches from the front door and your temple bounces off the wall. Hands spin you around, facing Rafe with his eyes wide and skin taunt as he gives you a jagged shake.
“You stupid bitch –"
“Fucking jackass –"
“Hey, woah!”
You both freeze.
As Rafe turns his head to look behind, you cock your head to the side. Topper stands at the small dining table, dimpled chin hanging low and a bowl of cereal sitting in front of him. Bewildered eyes asses the way Rafe is hunching over you, the twisted grip on your upper arms.
“Rafe, man…let her go,” Topper says calmly, one hand lowly reaching out. Something akin to concern filling out his expression.
With a grunt tickling your ear, Rafe releases you, his chest still pressed to yours. He commands under his breath, “go back to the room.”
If it weren’t for the essentials you left, you would’ve disregarded him completely. Glowering, you check shoulders with him as you go, Topper’s worried questions echo down the hall.
Fear, anger, and misplaced embarrassment from the witnessed scuffle rattle up your head down to your chest. The scene plays in your mind’s eye over and over, a loop that changes only in perspective like a movie. One that doesn’t happen to you, only to a girl that’s looking for her lost voice. She had it before.
Only once under the shelter of being in public does relief settle over you like a cool mist. You don’t know what would’ve happened if Topper hadn’t been here.
🌙
“So, what are your plans for spring break?"
“Um, to go home?”
Confused, you tilt your head to stare down at the phone, Lauren combined with numerous heart emojis displayed on the screen. Your laptop is set on your knees as you complete homework while chatting with her. Hair still wet from your shower and Rafe’s texts unanswered. Apologizes filled the text history from him, all left on read which led to missed calls and increasingly agitated texts.
“Uhhh, no.” The crinkle of fabric as Lauren packs for an upcoming trip accompanies her words. “Dad didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“He and mom are gonna go back to that little island we stayed at for Christmas.” Your heart drops, your oblivious sister continues, “…yeah, apparently Dad and that Wade guy hit it off and they’re doing business.”
Your dad’s a commercial architect, designing retail and office spaces across the west coast. He sometimes takes the odd job at the beginning of the new year so your family would be able to enjoy your summer in a new city. It usually took months of permits and construction to fully finish the project, your dad liked to stay with them till the end. You don’t even know what Ward does, just that he must’ve made a good impression, yet you can’t remember because you had a nuisance sitting beside you.
A gnawing pit opens at the bottom of your stomach, feeding on the fear that drips like a broken faucet. If this deal with Ward goes through, you’ll be spending your summer in Kildare, possibly longer with no job lined up for yourself.
A summer of Rafe. A summer of suffering through all the shit he’ll pull. No doubt he’ll be hearing of the news soon, having been privy to the calls with his dad, wanting to be a part of the business.
Before now, you’ve resigned yourself to placating him until May, until graduation and then you’d be across the country, far away, and never looking back. As Lauren’s voice hums in the background, your eyes stare at the keyboard in thought. A hand grazing over the tender spot of the side of your head.
This changes how you’ve been dealing with the situation. Handling Rafe like a spoiled child, giving him limited access to his favorite toy. It was the best strategy you had, believing you had an end date to this mess. However, with summer looming towards you with its long shadows and unrelenting heat, you know you can’t do it any longer. You can’t deal with the constant touching, the faux sweet gestures, and the rough treatment. It makes your head flutter with sickly butterflies just thinking of it, your chest feels light as you breathe in deeper.
You need a new plan, now. One that frees you from the shackles of Rafe Cameron. How you were going to do that…you had no idea. Once he learns of the deal, he won’t let it go. He won’t let his dad say no to it, and won’t let you say no to coming with.
The rest of the phone call is a distant thing, the laptop closed and you don’t even know if you saved your work. Amongst the quiet of the night, you drift into your mind, visualizing an alternate world.
A world where you never saw Rafe on the beach that night, or even went to the Outer Banks at all. How after winter break, you still would’ve had a class together. Still had that fated reunion. With no pogues around to deface him, you might’ve liked the attention from him.
Played it coy, compelling him to make the first move, maybe after lecture one day and walk you home. Having a nice, normal conversation with him. How you would’ve agreed to see him again, to have sex with him again.
This other you gets the Rafe you had first met. A jerk, yes, but one that listened to you, that had self-control. Was soft with you. She gets the normal progression of fuck buddies to a situationship. Because despite all the faults he clearly has, other you would’ve been able to look past them. Giving him leeway with his transgressions, not considering it a big deal since it wasn’t a serious thing anyways.
Other you has weeks and months to see the red flags rising up, one by one. The excessive drinking turns him nasty, the blow that levels him out and becomes emotional. Other you would’ve ignored them, chalked it up to typical college behavior until he eventually hurt you. You’d like to think other you would immediately end it, no matter how much he had manipulated you into liking him.
It's at this point of the dark tale where you know the universe is out to get you, an age-old revenge set upon your very soul. Because if other you tried to end it with him, would he have turned just as vicious as before?
Yes, you think, yes, he would in a heartbeat.
Separate paths: one with a smooth, sandy trail as the other grapples with high seas. These two lives are so separate, so unlike the other but still converging in the end, the same destination. A desisted beach with just a blond boy, ready to meld hands and bodies together. No path to take and no boat to ride on.
Gusts of wind brusquely whip around you like nature herself is propelling you forward, toward him. A warp of stumbling and muted colors as the rough waves crash to the shoreline, deafening and ferocious. The blond stays there, waiting. As if he knows you’ll be coming to him, even though you don’t want to. Like he knows no element will stop this journey of yours deeper into the sand.
You can’t see his face but fright ghosts over you like a disembodied entity. You want to go the other way, back to what was before.
The sand starts to flow, gentler than the water, luring you nearer to him, closer to what you know is bad, bad, bad. You think you scream, or maybe there’s another roaring of the waves as your arm's length away now. Details filling out his face come into a sharp focus, the edges around him blurry as Rafe smiles at you.
He seems unaffected by the storm happening viciously around the two of you. Spontaneously, you’re in his arms and you’ve never felt so small. Resisting only seems like it's the sand moving your bodies to and fro, not the intense effort you give. There are words being eaten around you, Rafe telling you something with that giant grin of his.
What? You mouth, your voice is sucked into the vacuum of noise and boomerangs back at you.
YOU’RE MINE. Rafe shouts with a manic glee like a god’s voice booming down below from the heavens. His laughter pushes the waves closer, sand and sea mixing together.
Terror is all you know, from the beginning of time to the end of your days. Rafe’s hold feels more like tentacles than hands, squeezing and capturing you tight. There’s merely the scream of delight by the ocean and the sob of horror from you.
Just as you’re there, you’re not.
Woken in a slick sweat that coats your hairline to the back of your knees. Your heart sputtering from the nightmare and the harsh yank back into the conscious world. After taking a moment that this is reality, that you’re not being swallowed into the vortex of Rafe; do you relax back into bed. Smothering your face back into the pillow, you whimper with the ruminants of irrational fear. That little nub in your brain is lightened up, alarming you that there is real danger near you.
A danger you have to face head-on.
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datclassicrockfan42 · 6 months
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Hi! If you don't mind me asking, what are the smiths?
Alright another infodump by meee yippee
(So um I’m really tired rn but the fact that I haven’t answered this yet is eating my insides rn lol, so instead of an infodump masterpost where I just infodump basic knowledge to indoctrinate the asker into the same special interest, this will instead be a link post with some helpful links to answer the question)
But I will answer the question myself by saying that The Smiths were an Alternative, Indie 80s band from Manchester. They actually inspired quite a lot of bands including Radiohead, Blur, Arctic Monkeys and even MCR. They lasted from 1983-1987 and had four albums in total(excluding compilation or live albums.
Group consists of four members( pictured below 👇):
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Going from right to left here: we have Johnny Marr, Andy Rourke, Mike Joyce, and last…but definitely not least….Morrissey.(…is it just me or he does kinda look a bit like post MCR breakup Mikey….i think I read somewhere that Mikey is a Morrissey fan…soo yea ima leave that there)
Alright well I’m gonna leave the info to a couple videos and other informational posts, bc honestly I’m a bit tired and the hyperfixation is more of a “let’s listen to the same songs over and over again and watch the same interviews over and over again and look for the same content over and over again.(a lot of repetitive stuff but hey I like it like that😀)
Now this post goes way more in depth than I have. It’s got a lot of info on band history, group members and their whole personalities and stuff. I think it even goes into solo works and stuff, but it’s really simplified and kinda of interesting.
There’s also this video that basically sums the band’s history up
youtube
So i recommend checking both of those out
Now as for music I can give you some recommendations for where to get started
You should totally start with their hits. Stuff like Heaven Knows I’m miserable now, There is a Light that Never Goes Out, This Charming Man. Basically just any “essentials” or “hits” playlist of The Smiths you come by.
For albums(disclaimer I haven’t listened to every album fully through yet). Probably start with The Queen is Dead. It’s really good and I’ve had it on repeat for quite awhile.
Alright well I will leave you there to do your own exploring. Once again love to answer any questions you may have during your research, don’t be afraid to ask.
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shiroolynn · 6 months
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Actually I dont know you but I`ve just read your post about restart ski jumping and I know that you have a big decision to make, and you are feeling confused and unsure(I had a similar struggle with Biathlon some months ago). You have been probably listening to the opinions of others, and you have been trying to please everyone. But what about yourself? What does your heart say?
Your heart is your inner voice, your intuition, your true self. It knows what is best for you, and it wants you to follow your dreams. Your heart is your guide, and it will never lead you astray.
So please, listen to your heart. Trust your feelings, and don’t let fear or doubt stop you. You have the courage and the strength to do what is right for you. You have the power to create your own happiness.
Yeah and my heart says nope lol even tho if my heart would say yes i know realistically i cant jump even again on the same level i was before. And his goal is clearly the olympics, to get me there, but it's just simply not possible for many reasons. Let me list a few things:
- i dont want to restart
- i am not willing to talk to and work together with the hungarian ski federation
- financial support? Not existing. And without that its pretty hard to be a good jumper and be qualified for olympics
- i wanna use my left knee in my pensioners years too
- i dont think my knee could take that heavy load again as a professional athlete's life requires
- he left me alone at the worst time im my life. He decided he does not want to be my coach after my first comeback season after my serious second knee injury because i was surprisingly not on the same level as before! Which is yeah who couldve imagined it takes time to get back into the good shape and level huh?? Look at Andi Wellinger, Killian Peier, Kvandal, they all took at least one! Season off! If not more after knee surgery. And my coach forced me back jumping after 7 months. And was suprised why i cant even walk normally after jumping. ( psst. It was because of pain and overload on my knee )
- i closed the ski jumper chapter of my life. Its painful and sucks how it ended but life goes on! And i have other goals now in life. I still love ski jumping dont get me wrong i follow it and everything but i am not going to be a ski jumper ever again...
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tathrin · 9 months
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I just need you to know your tags on that post about Boba Fett made me realize HOW MUCH of Legends-era Boba Fett I didn't know about and now it is my goal to hunt every book and story down because dear gods he's even more amazing than I realized
Ahhhh omg yes he's the best and worst in all the best ways. Thank you for giving me another excuse to talk about him!
Okay so start with the Twin Engines of Destruction comic by Andy Mangels and John Naedeau, that is THE epitome of Boba Fett. (#he had no face just the helmet that WAS his face #he canonically gives money from successful jobs to orphanages WHAT #when he found out someone was impersonating him AND BOTCHING JOBS he set that fucker up SO GOOD #he literally took the man apart physically spiritually and emotionally and left him paralyzed staring at his own about-to-explode jetpack #and put the antidote to the neurotoxin in front of him said ''you may survive if you have the will to move...like i would'' and WALKED AWAY) Genuinely just...this is it, this is him, this is everything anyone ever needs to know about how to write Boba Fett.
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After that I'll recommend moving onto the Boba Fett: Death, Lies, and Treachery comics (consisting of "Bounty on Bar Kooda," "When the Fat Lady Swings," and "Murder Most Foul") by John Wagner and Cam Kennedy (probably my favorite Fett comic artist; their style is wonky yes but it fits so well!). Boba Fett: Agent of Doom is another one drawn by Kennedy that is excellent, although it's written by John Ostrander (who did the best Clone Wars comics btw) instead of Wagner. Also I personally like to headcanon the last one actually being about Ailyn Vel, but that's neither here nor there. Your best bet to find these is probably the Star Wars Legends — Epic Collection: The New Republic vol 7 tpb but Marvel is shit about keeping their SW comics in print, so good luck.
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Also definitely worth reading are K.W. Jeter's Bounty Hunter Wars trilogy of novels (#he surgically removed his olfactory pleasure sensors so he wouldn't be affected by space pollen shit  #he'd drop an entire mine on top of himself to get his mark if he had to and then just dig his way back out #he once used the dying body of the closest thing he had to a friend as a laser canon to kill some tin-can hutts  #he had his fucking SKIN DISSOLVED and still sat up to shoot a bitch #he walked onto an exploding star destroyer just to have a conversation AND THEN FLEW IT RIGHT BACK OUT AGAIN) but I will say that the quality of them varies wildly between different sections...but it's one of those "even the bad parts are good, despite being terrible" books, if you know what I mean!
No Disintegrations, Please! is a short-story from the Tales of the New Republic collection, and that's the one that features Fett walking through an Imperial Garrison to get his mark that I was thinking of when I made the post (although it seems that tag didn't save? or I just can't find it again amidst all the unhinged shrieking of the rest of them lol) although he also took on a garrison in one of the comics and in another comic he went through a wrecked Star Destroyer full of murder-droids and TIE patrols so like...not an out-of-the-ordinary endeavor for him lol.
Payback: The Tale of Dengar, also from one of the short-story collections, in this case Tales of the Bounty Hunters, is where Dengar gets Fett to be his best man, although alas the wedding itself is never depicted anywhere, at least not that I've seen. (Although if you'll permit an extremely immodest self-rec, I did write about it once in a fic...) My favorite moment in this story, though, is when Boba Fett pulls a straw out to drink without removing his helmet. Too bad no one apparently ever mentioned that features to Din Djarin; would have made his life considerably easier. And yes, I was the person shouting "use a straw you idiot!" at the screen several times, to the vast amusement of those watching with me.
And of course, Susejo a.k.a. the Sarlacc mentioned in the original post is from A Barve Like That: The Tale of Boba Fett from the short-story collection "Tales From Jabba's Palace."
For new stuff that still feels like classic Fett, Age of Rebellion: Boba Fett by Greg Pak and Bria LaVorgna is really the only thing that comes to mind, but it's quite a lovely little one-shot.
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*If you have trouble finding Twin Engines of Destruction let me know. I have the whole thing saved on my computer because I love it so much, although I will say that the digital format/coloring does it no favors.
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dusty-siltstrider · 7 months
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Hi, idk if anyone will see this but I guess I should have an introduction if I'm gonna try to actively blog lol.
I'm Em (please call me Dusty), 18ftm, he/they. Idk what I am but I like being a scary buff masc or a smol cute emo femboy depending on the day. Pansexual with a lean towards transfems (not a chaser!!!). Grunge/crustie kid at heart but I'm toying with goth/emo styles too. Proud far-left antifascist and anti capitalist.
Currently recovering from an incredibly cruel breakup. If she's reading this she knows who she is. Soon-to-be med student. Overall broken mess who had a traumatic year, desperately trying to scrape up the pieces, and hopefully I'm doing it right.
Current fixations: Andy and Leyley (I'm not a degen, I just love the story), Morrowind (anything TES honestly!), the current fic I'm writing, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Willow my beloved 🥺), and trying to understand goth fashion (I have no sense for it! I grew up wearing oversized tshirts and sweatpants and old flannels! How do y'all do it??)
Other enjoyments (don't judge me, I know): Warcraft, anything involving Gordon Ramsay, Richard and Mortimer, other writing projects, drawing my lil dudes, FNAF (my guilty comfort), chilling at the mall (it's not dead!), trying my best to get into fitness beyond my punching bag, DIY (have a battle jacket and crust pants in progress!), metal (love it all except power metal, barf), and studying clinical lab science ahead of time.
Notable beloved music: Trivium, Acid Bath, Alice In Chains, Suicide Silence, Gojira, System of a Down, Knocked Loose, Incendiary, Xasthur, Dekonstrukt, Eyehategod, My Chemical Romance, The Pretty Reckless, Slipknot, Decalius, Misfits, TOOL, Lifelover, Wu-Tang, Eminem, $uicideboy$ (okay I'll stop now-)
Right-wingers, terfs/GCs/whatever you shits call yourselves, repubs/cons, Christians/Catholics, ancaps, go tf away.
So there it is I guess. I'll start sharing some more specific stuff soon. I don't want to be popular or anything, I just want a place to put my emotions and thoughts, share some of my creativity, and enjoy silly fandom shit. Hopefully make some friends along the way. Feel free to DM if you want to know more, and if you have any music suggestions, heartbreak advice, or advice on goth/emo aesthetic. Peace n stuff. Sorry this is so fuckin long.
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