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#it would actually be easier if i just got a tattoo

forestdivinity · 2 days

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Blitz & the Full Moon Episode & autism

I am once again talking about autistic blitz and just the Full Moon episode and this is a ramble but hh stick with itt?? I have so many thoughttssss but there are Spoilers so don't read if you havent watched the episode yet!

I'm thinking of how Stolas like walks out when he thinks Blitz is rejecting him and how Blitz takes that as a rejection and blows up in return. Like if they'd both just taken a minute to breathe it wouldn't have ended in such a disaster

From what I've seen, Blitz is someone who needs time to process especially in interpersonal relationships, and he's so sensitive to rejection & blames himself as soon as it happens but will self protect by externalising and projecting those feelings onto the person who's hurt him. Not saying this is a healthy mechanism btw!

I feel like if he had time to think past his initial gut reactions he would have been able to at least talk without screaming because we see he can be emotionally vulnerable like when he talks to Fizz in Oops! but rejection and feeling unworthy hit him haaaard, (like Fizz's birthday), and he reacts with anger first to hide how upset he is He's quick to cover up but I don't think he's someone who's that great at reading social situations as he projects himself to be, even with the candle shopkeeper he struggles to describe the mood and vibe hes going for. Blitz projects himself as outwardly confident because it's easier for him to have this facade than admit when he has difficulties in certain situations. In 'Oops' he totally misses Fizz's sarcasm when he's talking about Stolas and their relationship while denying that Stolas could like him. I think this comes from both a place of self-loathing & denial but also him missing that Fizz isn't actually agreeing with him. Emotions & words relating to them dont come easy to Blitz because he's autistic but also he rarely got the kind of support and emotional teaching in childhood he needed from the people around him. Like im sure Tilla tried but we know she was ill and that Cash is a dick who uses this to exploit Blitz (such as forcing him to steal from Stolas as a child) and I think that man has the parenting ability of a teaspoon. He's manipulative and even from a young age teaches Blitz that relationships are transactional (selling Blitz in the first place) which I think was ten times more impactful and traumatising for Blitz as a child seeing how he approaches relationships as an adult and that's even not getting into his self worth issues surround Fizz and the fire and Barbie. And like with Verosika happening… I want to know how old he was when they dated, how long it lasted. She has his name tattooed on her there must have been some emotional connection, but what happened between them to lead to Blitz blowing up again. What was their relationship like. It's said (implied? I don't remember exact words) that Blitz was her bodyguard first so that's another relationship that started out transactional! I think Blitz is emotionally a very immature character and he clings to structured relationships that he can push the boundaries of. Loona is his adopted daughter. Millie and Moxxie are his employees. There's structure and expectations to those relationships and he's the one who pushes for more and tries to develop them. It freaks him out when someone turns the tables because he doesn't have the rules and scripts in his head I think?? Stolas is changing the structure of their relationship and Blitz panics and tries to retreat to what he knows works (sex) which isn't what Stolas wants and we see the aftermath of this! But if what the 'you royals always do this' line implies is true he's been thru at least something similar before and is maybe falling back into old patterns and hurts when he perceives Stolas as rejecting him & his advances (putting his hat on, disparaging the roleplay, and leaving the room). Beyond the class issue and fear of losing his business when Stolas asks for the book back permanently the first spot where things go wrong for their personal relationship is when Blitz goes 'oh this is a roleplay' and I can just see the gears turning of him like just trying to fit this new information into the established framework of their relationship. Sex is comfortable for Blitz, the transactional nature of their relationship is comfortable and scripted and easy (he says this at the start of the episode!) and when pushed out of that comfort zone he panics. We see him panic!

I think part of him probably liked that there were certain expectations and structure to the contract before even if he complained about stolas being horny and like Stolas baby, I know things changed in you but the very start of your relationship is you calling him while he's being shot to like talk about how you want his cock. I love Stolas too don't get me wrong but your whole relationship is based around sex. Blitz has said to you in the past that he feels like he's only used for sex (Ozzie's!) and that's the expectation he has of the relationship. And like we know Stolas has tried to gently reach out especially since Ozzie's but Blitz is autistic doesnt do subtlety, like we can see that in how he treats people around him. He's brash and open and doesn't know how to read a room (like the first CHERUB episode he texts the client that they fucked up because he thinks people can't get angry over texts??) IDK people go on about how Stolas is autistic and yeah I can see that but to me Blitz is the epitome of the 'bad autistic' who is too open, too rough, too liable to blow up and meltdown and react with anger and violence. (MOOD BABYGIRL)

Blitz is terrified of change unless he initiates it and even then he struggles (see him trying to confess to Fizz). And like there's just so much about him that screams autistic to me. Like his meeting with moxxie when they're in jail and moxxie is crying and blitz is like :D HI WANNA BREAK OUT! Blitz doesn't get the social code and I think he's worked so hard to come off as this blasé 'idgaf' person when in reality he doesn't know how he should act in certain situations but it's better if it seems intentional because then people just think he's an asshole instead of a freak. The like 'haha we are laughing together' instead of 'you are laughing at me' (in a bad way). Like just, the whole scene with him trying to tell Jokes in The Circus episode and it falling flat and falling back on his special interest (horse facts!) but the audience finding him just strange vs how they react to Fizz. He decides to adopt Loona but he still struggles with connecting to her and respecting her boundaries as a neglected young adult and treats her more like a younger child in a lot of ways because that's his idea of like the perfect father-daughter bond and he doesn't know how to course correct. Even in Full Moon we see how he like goes overboard in telling Moxxie how he's horny and wants to fuck Stolas and Moxxie is like TMI don't tell me that.

JUST for me Blitz is just so relatable in a lot of ways. He is a person who craves connection but struggles with how to make that meaningfully so he has dropped himself into certain molds to try and fit what people expect of him but even then he does it in the wrong way. He tries to be what he thinks Stolas wants (based on their OG deal and past interactions) by saying oh this a roleplay and its a sex thing but fucks it up because Stolas is asking for change and he doesn't know how to do that especially in a sudden and unexpected situation. And he's someone who is highly competent but struggles so severely with emotional regulation and timing and social contracts and just idk. So so many of my meltdowns ended in screaming because I neeed space and time to emotionally process when something is Happening and if I don't get that (like Stolas assuming things are over and leaving when Blitz is realising Oh This Is Something I Need to Process) my first defense mechanism is to reflect my struggle outwards in anger and Blitz is exactly the same!! And again this isn't healthy but we know Blitz isn't healthy right now (in the trailer he legit says he doesn't want to be like this forever)! And don't get me wrong I know why Stolas threw him out when he started yelling (Stolas has his own PTSD triggers from Stella) but goddd boys you need to sit down and work this out calmly with processing time!! Like sooo many people see Stolas as autistic because he's quiet and socially awkward and nerdy about the things he loves which is a valid interpretation but Blitz is just my CPTSD undiagnosed autistic who has learnt the worst coping mechanisms because he was never allowed anything else and always expects things to turn out badly. Isn't it easier if you're the one to ruin things? At least he knows what to expect!!

Ughghg I have so many more thoughts but this post is already a mile longgg so if you want to yell more about blitz just come into my asks lmaoo

(Btw I love Stolas too and this is not anti stolitz, they are gonna work this out but Blitz is just my scrunklyyy)

#blitzo #blitzo buckzo #helluva boss #full moon #hb full moon #spoilers #hb #stolas #stolitz #stolas goetia #my autistic middle aged traumatised man #he cries and i have a menty b #helluva blitz #blitzø #helluva boss blitz

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milqueandsugar · 27 days

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🌼☕` Wearing His Clothes`☕🌼

Gen / Fluff

Includes / Alastor , Lucifer

| ALASTOR |

If Alastor could spend every evening like this, he would. A warm hellish day, a pleasant breeze that made the usual sulphuric smell that lingered in the air tolerable, and most of all, you by his side. The scarlet parasol you carried over your shoulder sifted the dying rays of the sun into a glorious red. If Alastor could devour an image he'd have this walk on a plate.

"Have I ever mentioned how marvelous you are in red?" The static of his voice crackled to life, so did the blood in your cheeks. "Very, very often." You tease, his grin widens. "Oh so not nearly enough."

You were working up a come back when something heavy dropped onto your shoulders. It smelled of chicory and black coffee, it smelled of Alastor. You poked your head up out of a collar, his collar. You stared up at your lover who twirled the parasol you must have dropped in hid hand. Spinning the red refracted light around the both if you like a kelidoscope.

"You are darling in red, I'll have to ring up Rosie to get you one of your own."

"Matching outfits Alastor? Tattoos next?"

"I was thinking rings, but by the by."

Alastor is definitely a possessive character but I don't think that translates at all to you wearing his clothes

He's actually quite protective of them, he's as particular as he is possessive and it has to be some sort of gesture for him to lend it to you

He especially holds off on lending clothes to you if you make it know you like it, just for teasing purposes of course!

He only truly lends you his bow tie or jacket and only, of course, on his terms

He finds it endearing, how flattered or excited you are at something as simple as a coat, though he holds this little secret close to his chest

It's not as fun if you can tease him back!

Due to his more animalistic tendencies/physicality he is particularly sensitive to smell

If you REALLY want to rile him up use his cologne or soap, it might take a day or two but it's impossible not to notice his increase in physical affection

Once he registers that wearing his clothes is another, far more subtle way of having you smell like him he'll be far more generous with lending you garments.

| LUCIFER |

Every few months you cleaned out the closet, Lucifer liked to buy things, you liked to wear things, both of you were terrible for over filling your closet. He was out for a day out with Charlie, which made things easier. You loved him truly but he made tossing things out difficult, it was too pretty or to cute, to sexy for him to part with. He wasn't wrong, he had an excellent eye for picking clothes you liked, but at this rate you'd need to buy a new home to accommodate for the mass amounts of clothes!

It was when putting the keeps back when you noticed it, his hat. A hat you both loved and hated, the golden snake around its brim gleaned in the light. You snatched it from the shelf at the top of the closet. Your surprised he didn't bring it today, he wore it always, especially when with Charlie. You wondered if she liked it, or if she liked it when she was a kid and bright colours were like moths to light.

You step over to stand in front of the floor length mirror. It felt like a normal hat, of beautiful craftsmanship of course, but just a normal hat. You couldn't see why he was obsessed with the thing. You felt a little silly wearing it, you felt even sillier when a snort sounded from behind you.

"Oh so that's where my hat went"

He thinks it's cute!!

He's confident so he doesn't see any real need to mark or claim you, he knows he loved you, and he knows you love him just as much!

Absolutely pleased to lend you clothes!

If it becomes a habit of yours he even goes out of his way to pick up clothes he thinks both of you will like

Turns into a fun shopping activity!

Be fully prepared for him to start stealing your clothes too though this is a two way street

Maybe it's for the best too he's got no style let's be honest

Absolutely tortures you if he discovers you think it's hot, wears your clothes out, wears your clothes in private, when your on a date

Good luck, they're pretty much his now

No hiding if you dress more feminely either he's not afraid of rocking a mini skirt

The act itself doesn't do anything but seeing you so excited about it?? That does it for him

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #lucifer x y/n #lucifer imagine #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you

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manicpixiefelix · 5 months

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head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 2.

Summary: Felix and Y/N's first year of university means being more open with how close they are, while perhaps growing a little more distant than Felix would like. Also the Catton family have bestowed Y/N their own title, which Felix hates, and Y/N and Farleigh have a moment of connection over Christmas.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader with Felix, Venetia, and Farleigh in this chapter. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: Smut (reader bottoming but their gender is not made explicit), Degrading language (reader is referred to as as dog & pet)

A/N: 3071 words. i definitely meant to get to the start of their second year/first run in with Oli..... but this chapter got long enough, so instead we'll meet Oliver at the start of the next chapter and instead we get Felix and Reader at university, best friends who hook up shenanigans, Venetia being a pot-stirrer because she likes to rile up her brother, and Farleigh and Y/N bonding and boning. i feel like the pacing is a bit strange so id love some feedback <3 ALSO I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT UK COLLEGE CALANDERS IM SO SORRY LOL

Taglist: @strangemaximoff @renaissance-mama @tsach @malscorner @xhoneymoonx134 @yelchinweasleylothbrok @tarriea @florencediet @butitsbetterifyoudoittoem @belladonnadarksshade @fandom-multiamory @snazzynacho @jubileexoxo @soocore @be-lla-vie @nightingale2124 @willow-sages @null4ndv0id @gracieluvthemoon @day2dream @marvellover98 @navixfr @bitxhinthecomments @daintylovers @alesunsets @noturningbacknow @d0llysposts @alilcloudy @callsignwidow @moviequotes23 @325575 @bonnieblue0606 @osoqueen125 @hot-dino-nuggies @darkness-falls-xo

----

To absolutely no-ones surprise, least of all yours, Felix takes to the social aspects of college like a duck to water. Neither of you missed a single day or night of activities during first year orientation, and you both left the various pubs and bars with a different hook up each night.

Felix sees a poster for a band in town, and crows with laughter as he talks about how his mother would hate if he ever got a piercing, but you know the look in his eye too well, and tell him there's a piercing place a block away.

"God I miss Farleigh," you sigh with a smile, watching him size himself up in the mirror of the tattoo parlour where the piercer had drawn approximate dots to mark his soon-to-be eyebrow piercing.

"Oh he'd love this, wouldn't he?" Felix agrees, grinning from ear to ear, catching your gaze in the reflection. Despite the piercer's reassurance that it doesn't actually hurt that bad, Felix plays up the bit of being concerned, insisting that you hold his hand.

It's easier in this environment to be affectionate. Perhaps its the way that all nights liked to blur together, lips and teeth and tongues and hands, and you find yourself invited to parties and into bedrooms and Felix is in the crowd, pupils wide and drugs in his blood and knowing you can take care of yourself.

Fruit flies mistaking his light in the night for the rot they're used to.

That being said, while of course Felix is gorgeous and the life of the party, your own magnetic aura and love features draw in your own crowd of admirers; you proximity to Felix was merely a perk.

You yourself find yourself blooming at college; with a far stronger sense of identity than you'd had for most of your teenage years, you shed many of your adolescent insecurities and begin to embrace yourself and the people around you as more than just Felix's friends.

"I miss you," he teases, eyes shiny and pupils huge, looking at you with that look that made everyone else weak in the knees. The two of you are crammed too close in a booth at a club, everyone else having left to dance or find something interesting to snort in the bathrooms.

"I'm always around, Fi," you murmur, just as high, lips twisted into a bleary smile, your finger beneath his chin to lift his face to you.

"They love you here," he grinned, lips inches from yours, skin glowing with sweat from the adrenaline and high of the night, "knew they would," it's not especially jealous, more proud, and you sigh against his lips with the kind of warm contentment his praise always brings you.

"Don't care if they love me," you say, very tellingly, voice low and flirty. Anyone could see the two of you, but the unspoken rules of high school had fallen away; the rules of college seemed to prioritise a lack of judgement, especially with the people you surrounded yourself with. Felix giggles, flushing red, leaning into your touch, leaning even heavier against you in the little, otherwise empty booth.

"You miss me, Fi?" You prompt, letting his face go as you wrap an arm around him, drawing you in close to him. Despite his height, he folds himself up to lean into you. Felix giggles again, mostly to himself, clearly shitfaced, without answering, he angles his face up to press a kiss to your neck, "we see each other every day, we still fuck around, we -"

"Do you think I could live without you?" He asks suddenly, and surprisingly frankly. His chin is on your shoulder, eyes wide and demanding an answer. It's not a joke, nor some strange attempt at flirting, and your throat turns dry as the lights spin around you both.

"You're drunk," you tell him gently, "and high."

"Why would I ask that?" He frowns, suddenly, sitting up, as if he's talking more to himself than you, "that's a fucked question actually, sorry Y/N, I shouldn't have -"

"I think it's more about how you feel about it." You tell him gently, "we should get water. You sit here, I'll get it."

You're unsteady on your feet when you head to the bar, collecting two cups of water, almost overflowing, from the end, trying not to think about it all. It didn't matter either way, how he thought or felt about it. It was a foolish, drunken question, it doesn't matter. Right?

Except he's bopping back and forth in his seat, tapping the rhythm with surprising success on the table top, eyes shining in the light where all he seems to look at is you. Felix grin wide and bright, thanks already in his smile before the words reach his lips as you sit back down next to him.

You could live without him, but you know you'd never want to, so long as he'd want you around.

"Think I'd rather die than live without you," he says with little prompting, holding the cup with both hands as he downs half in a single gulp. What?

"What?"

He turns those perfect, brown eyes upon you like you don't already live your life in his shape, like he hadn't validated every choice you'd made since you'd met him. He smiles.

"You're my best mate, you're always good to me and help me with shit and never get mad at all the dumb ideas I have and you've made sure I haven't gotten kicked out of any schools, even if I probably deserved it," he rambles and takes another drink, this time choosing to look out at the nauseating crowd of haze and lights and bodies, "I love you, I don't think I could live without you."

"Is that why you miss me?" Your voice is barely audible above the music, but Felix still hears it. Putting his mostly empty cup on the table, he shoves his shoulder against yours, refusing to let up until his full weight is against you, the two of you toppling down in the booth, him draped over you wearing the absolute goofiest grin. It's a good reminder that you're both incredibly drunk.

"Just miss you."

You stumble out of the bar together, and back to the dorms. Felix is insistent that you stay with him.

"No funny business," he mumbles against your ear, breath hot and smirk in his voice, "promise."

"You couldn't get it up if you tried," you snorted, "whiskey dick." Though he tries to protest, you gently elbow him in the ribs and he sulkily admits that you're probably right. Still, in the warmth of his room and the two of you stripped to your underwear, it's kind of irresistible to not make out like teenagers for a good while. You get you both glasses of water to put on the nightstand, and Felix tells you he loves you while on the brink of sleep.

"Love you too, Fi."

"Couldn't live without you, meant it," he hiccups, cracking an eye to smirk up at you from where he's splayed out on the bed, "probably."

"Don't think I could live without you either," you shuffle yourself into the bed beside him, letting him roll over to wrap an arm around you, "even if you are a fucking wanker sometimes," you grin, and hear him laugh into his pillow.

Felix has more game than anyone you've ever met without even trying, stealing and breaking hearts from all areas of the university. You watch it happen with amusement as you find your own slew of pretty guys and girls to keep you company when you feel like it. Still, for all the charisma and charm Felix had been blessed with, his touch-starved nature becomes both a blessing and a curse when he finds himself drunk and tactile and desperate for touch.

A desperate, affection Felix loses all of those carefully-curated social barriers that the two of you had put between yourselves as teenagers in public. Girls are more open and supportive around here; perhaps you should be offended, that many, once they learn he's prone to clinging to you, to kissing you, they end up rationalising it. It doesn't count.

Or perhaps they think they can shift the affection to themselves. Felix always learns to be more affectionate to them, but will find himself with you more often than he's not.

And those girls don't even know about the sex.

"I think about you," he huffs between short, jagged breaths, with you bent over the end of his bed, "is that weird?"

His latest breakup isn't even twelve hours old yet, but when you'd showed up at his room with a six-pack of beers and the offer to let him vent, he'd taken it without hesitation. While they hadn't been going out for long, she'd been pretty, but an apparently lousy fuck. When you'd jokingly offered to remind him what a decent lay was like, Felix had genuinely jumped at the chance.

"A bit - ah," you mused for a moment, hips rocking back to meet his in a pleasant rhythm. He takes a pause to tap one of your ankles with his foot, and you adjust your stance to be a bit wider, "what context? Just in general - fuck, Fi, there," and you find yourself lost for words as he presses his hand against the small of your back. His pace remains steady as he fucks you, and you obliging lean further down; he knows you well, know how to fuck you just the way you both enjoy.

Then you're in his bed, straddling him, riding him with his hands on your hips, your thighs, bouncing as his nails dig pleasantly into your skin.

"Think about me?" You finally continue, breathless, and something about the way he holds you steady, lets you pause as he laughs, flushed cheeks growing even more read, makes you grin too, "you mean like this, don't you?" And you rolled your hips, eliciting a groan from him that was like music to your ears.

"Shut up," he'd laughed, giving you a squeeze, unable to meet your gaze.

"Did you ever call out my name?" You lean down, across him, and for a moment his hands slide up your body to wrap around your neck, bringing you in for a gentle kiss.

"Thankfully not."

"Still, those poor girls," you teased.

"Poor me," Felix argued, "having to try and power through terrible sex while thinking about someone who's not even there, just because I know you're better at it," and he played at pouting for a moment, looking for sympathy.

"You really didn't have to tell me all this," you laughed, sitting back up and setting a gentle pace, smiling down at him, "you're such a perv." When his fingertips trail down your body, a shiver runs down your spine. There's this look in his eyes for just a moment, something knowing, something teasing, something you'd seen on occasion that made you feel so wanted and seen and -

He likes you knowing.

"You gonna give me something to think about?" That tone of voice, the teasing, the faintest hint of authority, like he's pretending like he doesn't know all the ways you'd debauch yourself if only he asked.

Venetia gets you a collar for Christmas, and Farleigh's already been kicked out of several universities by the time your first Winter break had arrived.

"Oh Pet, that's so cute," Elspeth coos at the designer, velvet collar that Venetia had smugly handed over while Felix had scowled, "is that Cartier?" Much to Felix's dismay, Elspeth and Sir James have apparently taken to calling you Pet as a pet name. He blames his sister entirely.

"Pet's easier, sweetheart," Elspeth had tried to argue when you'd sat down at your first breakfast of the Winter break at Saltburn, and she'd asked Duncan 'don't forget about our dear pet'. Naturally Felix had frowned the entire time while arguing with his parents, who insisted it's easier to use Pet than a whole new set of names and pronouns.

"It's been years mum, how have you not adjusted?" He demands, while you have shrunken in your chair and tried to divine life's secrets from your breakfast.

"What do you think, Pet?" Venetia said with a venomous kind of sweetness. Looking up at her, she's wearing this smug kind of smile, directed not at you but at Felix next to you. When you look to him, you see Farleigh across the table trying to hide his amusement in several pieces of toast eaten with no break in between.

"I think," you paused, looking past an annoyed Felix to his mother at the head of the table, "that if you want to call me Pet, you can, I think it's sweet, but please don't expect Felix to refer to me as such," you said with a surprising amount of firmness. Then after a beat of surprise from the rest of the table, you took a deep breath, "and for events and guests, I really wouldn't appreciate being introduced as such."

"Of course," Elspeth quickly amends, adding, "Y/N," for good measure.

"It's a pet name, Pet," Sir James gives an awkward little smile, nodding in agreement. Farleigh met your gaze for a moment, and you could see only the bread was keeping his laughter from spilling out. Beside you, Felix relaxes, and finally you look at him. Dark, serious eyes, with something grateful shining faintly in the morning sun.

Of course you let him throw Venetia's collar gift in the fire in front of her, despite her protests.

You get used to the sweet way the Cattons refer to you as Pet; as much as Felix despised it's connotations when it came from his sister, there was something comforting, something almost secure about the way the whole family had picked it up so easily.

"Was wondering where I'd find you," Farleigh's voice is warm while you're raiding the expansive kitchen for some kind of easy midnight snack. You could have asked one of the many staff members who reside on the property, but you hadn't wanted to bother them over probably some crisps.

"Farleigh!" You light up upon hearing his voice, turning, refrigerator door still open in your hand. He approaches, and you close the refrigerator, hugging him tightly, "oh this is great, it's been so long since it's been just us!"

"Darling pet," he says with a surprising amount of gentleness.

"You should come to Oxford, Fi and I miss you terribly," you tell him, leaning into his touch with a sincere smile as he holds your face gently, while you still hold him is a loose embrace.

"I've already been accepted into another college; you'll be fine without me," and he grins, kissing you on the nose, pressing a kiss to each cheek, "pet." He adds, almost to himself, and your face falls as you think about what he'd said.

"Everything's better with you," you insist, "and you'd love it; we could party like we did that Summer in France, but every weekend -!" Farleigh cuts you off with his lips against yours; you can taste the sweet smile he's wearing before he deepens the kiss.

Later, in Farleigh's bed, bathed in moonlight and the afterglow, you light up a cigarette and open his window.

"Fucking freezing," Farleigh mutters.

"Sorry," but you don't close the window. Silence stretches out between you both. You hope Farleigh enjoyed himself, hope he's happy -

"You don't need them," he says quietly, staring up at the ceiling. After a moment, you breathe out a lungful of smoke and turn to him with a frown, "this family; we all know where you're from. You don't need them." There's something strange about his tone, clearing his throat when he finally looks at you, "but you still want them to love you."

"They're good to me," you finally say, dropping your gaze as you reach back to offer the cigarette, "to us," you tell him, and he hums with the smoke in his lungs. Then, taking back the cigarette, you inhale the sour-sweet smoke and tap off the ash off the window sill.

"I'm not their fucking dog, Farleigh," you mumble, surprising frustration escaping you, anger you hadn't even realised you were holding on to.

"I know, pet," he says softly, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder, "you'll let them think they have you kept, but you're not their dog, I know."

"I like you, Farleigh," you say with a faint smile, leaning back to see the way he's grinning too, "and I love you a bit as well I think."

"I know, I love you too, Y/N."

"We miss you a lot." There's something about the quiet that follows your words that you know all too well; Farleigh's about to tease you for something. Probably Felix related.

As if on cue;

"Does he know you like being his dog?" Grin widening, Farleigh gives you a slight shove, though the truth of his words has you hiding your own embarrassed smile.

"He thinks it's an insult to me, which is sweet of him," you chuckled, and Farleigh eases the cigarette from your fingers, "but it's like he has no idea the effect he's had on me for over a decade now. Yeah, I'm my own person, I have hobbies and friends outside of him, but -"

"You're a service bottom and desperately in love," Farleigh cuts in with a surprisingly sage tone, nodding like he hadn't absolutely called you out. Shocked with his vulgar kind of accuracy, you practically shove him out of the bed, laughing that he needs to fuck off, and the discussion is left at that.

The next morning, sitting down to breakfast, Duncan quietly informs Sir James that there had been a disturbance during the night. Immediately you throw Farleigh under the bus and declare that it's his fault.

"Hey!" He shouts back, grinning, "it takes two to fuck in the kitchen!" Which has all four of you, Venetia, Felix, Farleigh, and yourself, cracking up with laughter as Elspeth and Sir James were exasperated by your collective antics.

There is so much affection in Felix's eyes in this moment, this simple, strange moment of admitted sexual deviance. Except it's never felt like that to either of you. It's one of the ways you've both shown love, and he loves that you love those closest to him.

And you love to make him happy.

Farleigh was right, not that you'd ever tell him.

#felix catton imagine #felix catton x reader #felix catton x reader x oliver quick #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #saltburn imagine #saltburn x reader #farleigh x reader #farleigh start x reader #farleigh start imagine #farleigh imagine #farleigh start x you #farleigh x you #head heart hand fic #manic writer

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wannabeschyulersister · 3 months

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might as well be drunk in love

*part two to lovelorn and nobody knows*

part one

warnings: mentions of a panic attack

It had been four and a half months since you left The Bear behind. Despite being so heartbroken over the what happened, you made yourself get up each day. There wasn’t time to let the sadness consume you. You had to move on.

Your dream one day was to open your own restaurant and you couldn’t do that if you were wallowing.

Part of you wanted to cut everyone off for the fresh start that you so desperately wanted. But it wasn’t their fault that you were heartbroken.

Plus, Tina would kick your ass if you stopped talking to her.

So, you kept up with everyone. Minus Carmen. It was just easier this way. The others mentioned him a couple of times and you’d noticed that it got easier and easier to hear his name without it hurting you.

You kept yourself busy with work and maintaining friendships that you built at The Bear while also making new ones. You tried so very hard to keep that tattooed blue-eyed man out of your mind.

The restaurant that you were a sous chef now wasn’t as flashy as The Bear had turned out to be. It still had that family-like style that you liked.

You still followed the same habits that you had at The Bear. So, you grabbed your coat and headed outside for your break. It was around 6:30. You liked to have some calming moments before the dinner rush.

When you stepped out the back door to the alley, you were stunned to see Carmen standing there leaning against the wall.

You both just stood there for a few seconds not saying anything. You wondered if you were truly losing it. If he was just a figment of your imagination.

“Hey.” He said snapping you out of your thoughts. He looked good like always. He was wearing his classic blue jeans, plain white tee and an olive bomber jacket. His hair was haphazardly styled but still looked incredible.

“What are you doing here?”

“I figured you still followed the same break time.”

“How did you know where I worked?”

“Syd told me. Well, I uh, I begged her to tell me. I didn’t know if you’d answer my calls. I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

“About?”

“Why you really left the restaurant. I asked everyone when you left for a reason why. They didn’t know. Or they just didn’t want to tell me.”

“I already told you why I left.”

“Yeah? Well I don’t believe you, (Y/n).”

“I don’t have time for this.” You started to walk away but Carmen quickly moved in front of you. He blocked the back door.

“You practically ignored me the last two weeks you were there. You didn’t answer my calls and stopped texting me. Was it- did I make you uncomfortable?”

“No!” You quickly answered.

“Then what was it? I’ve been drivin’ myself crazy tryin’ to figure out why you left.”

“Because I’m in love with you!” You wanted to scream out.

Carmen froze. “You’re what?”

Shit. Looks like you actually did say it out loud.

“Uh, I didn’t mean-“

“Wait, you left because you have feelings for me?”

“Please forget that I said that. I didn’t mean it and I- I know that you’re-“ you felt like you were on the verge of a panic attack. You couldn’t believe that you’d blurted out that you were in love with Carmen to him.

“Hey. Hey, take a deep breath.” You felt Carmen cup your face between his hands. His face was so close to yours if you leaned up, your lips would be on his.

Carmen breathed in deeply with you, held it for four seconds and then exhaled. The breathing technique normally worked for you but it helped how close in proximity he was. His touch alone put you at ease.

You were more completely overwhelmed instead of having a panic attack. You knew the difference. The embarrassment of having told Carmen that you were in love with him made you just want to fall out.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly after a few moments.

“No, I’m mortified.”

You heard him chuckle, “That’s a first for me. I’ve never had someone say they’re mortified with being in love with me.”

Taking a step back, you removed yourself from his grasp. In that moment, you’d forgotten that he was spoken for. He had a girlfriend. It was inappropriate to be so wrapped up.

“I shouldn’t have said that. You’re with Claire and I respect relationships.”

“(Y/n)-“

“No, you shouldn’t be here. You should be with your girlfriend and I have to get back to work.”

Carmen raised his voice, “(Y/n)!” He stepped closer to you again, “Claire and I broke up.”

“What?”

“After you left, I, uh, I took it really hard. I don’t know if Sydney told you.”

You shook your head, “I told them I didn’t want to hear anything about…you. Or Claire for that matter.”

“I didn’t want to really interact with anyone. Even more than usual. I missed having you around and-and our talks during our break. You always put me in a good fuckin’ mood just by your presence. Sometimes when things were stressful as fuck, I’d look over at you, and-and you’d smile at me and-“

“And what?” He literally had you hanging on every word.

“And I knew that everything would be okay.” He answered looking deeply into your eyes, “When Claire confronted me about how I’d been actin’, I realized then that what we had it wasn’t how it should be.”

“What do you mean?”

“I should get those fuckin’ butterflies that people always talk about. I should be at ease when she’s around. I should be able to sit in silence with her but things not be so damn awkward. It should be comfortable. It should be like how I feel with you.” Carmen finished.

What a turn of events this conversation had turned out to be. One minute, you thought he was some illusion and the next he was practically confessing that he had feelings for you too.

“You have feelings for me?”

Carmen nodded, “It took me to realize it when you walked out of The Bear for the last time. I was scared that I’d never see you again. I gave you space because I thought that’s what you wanted. But, I’m crazy in love with you. I didn’t want to not tell you how I feel.”

“I’m glad you did tell me. I don’t think I’d ever have the courage to tell you.”

“I wish you would’ve. I feel like we wasted a lot of time where we could’ve been together.”

“And what would we be doing if we were together?” You confidently took a step closer to him again. He was close enough to kiss.

Carmen smiled, “Well, first, I’d grab you here,” he placed his hands on your waist pulling you towards his body, “then, I’d lift up your chin lightly,” he did so.

His face tilted down towards you, “and then I’d kiss you.”

When he finally pressed his lips against yours, the world around you went silent. In that damn moment, you didn’t even remember your name.

You didn’t care that it was freezing outside. You didn’t care that you were most likely past your fifteen minutes on your break. You just cared that Carmen Berzatto was kissing you.

The back door opened and you heard your friend and the pastry chef call your name, “(Y/n)? Do you always make out with strangers on your break?”

This made the both of you laugh. “I have to get back inside.”

“Can I come and pick you up afterwards? I want to see you again tonight.” Carmen asked after he kissed you softly one last time.

“I get out around 10. Don’t be a minute late, Berzatto.”

“I wouldn’t dare be late.”

#carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x (y/n)#carmen berzatto x you #the bear x reader #the bear imagine #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto

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chimcess · 4 months

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Waterlog || pjm (1)

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, Age Gap!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 17.4k+ 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: discussions of significant death (does not happen in story), talks of a bad car accident, talks of drunk driving (please drinking responsibly), more than likely wrong swimming terms and poor understanding of how the Olympics actually works (I did so much research, pls be nice to me lol), strong language, lots of mental health discussions, reader has mommy and daddy issues, Older reader, Jimin is a complete sweetie, the tamest chapter of them all A/N: Well, well, well, look who came back. I first wrote Waterlog back in 2021, and while I enjoy the premise, I hate the finished product. I wanted to go back and edit/fix what I originally had, but when I tried it became so different, I was better off rewriting the entire thing. I hope you guys like this mini-series. If you would like to read the original go to my blog archive. Thank you for reading!

masterlist || next || playlist

Staring at the pool, I managed to calm myself with relative ease. Jin had been right, physical therapy had made things easier. The water glistened prettily in the lights, and I waited with bated breath for my trainer to come in.

Emery was a sweet guy, pretty with a lip ring and tattoos, but with a surprising amount of shyness it was laughable. His softness was offset by his powerful muscles, and I enjoyed his never-ending sense of humor. Unlike Dr.Maddox, Emery treated me like I was a normal person. Not an Olympian who almost lost her leg in an accident, or the woman whose fiancé died. I was just Y/N, and it was a relief to be around him.

Running my fingers along the scars on my leg, I mindlessly drew patterns around them in the silence. It was not normal for Emery to take this long, but his assistant had said he was running behind due to another patient, so I was unbothered. I had planned my entire day around this, so I was in no rush.

Finally, the door swung open revealing a disheveled Emery. Breathing heavier than usual, he rolled his eyes at me in frustration before saying his pleasantries. Whoever it had been had gotten him worked up.

“Rough morning?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

With an annoyed sigh, he nodded.

“I shouldn’t say this, but I hope that woman never comes back here.”

I laughed, “We all have that someone. Don’t feel too bad.”

Shaking his head, I could tell it took restraint on his part not to rant and rave about the woman who had left. Emery and I were more friendly than most. I had been seeing him for over two years now, but we still kept a semblance of a professional relationship. Especially Emery.

“How’s the kids?” He asked, making small talk as we started getting ready for a swim.

I was the coach of a high school swim team in town, something I talked about quite a bit, and Emery always liked hearing about. He was a great water polo player but chose to go into physical therapy while he was in college. After seeing one of his friends get injured and how much physical therapy had helped him, Emery decided to change his major. Four years later, he says he could never see himself doing anything else.

“They’re doing well,” I said honestly. “We got a couple of freshmen on the team, but they’re doing a lot better than I thought they would.”

Emery hummed, offering me assistance getting into the pool. While walking had been mostly figured out, the obvious limp aside, I still had some trouble with getting in-and-out of things. Even my bathtub had to be switched out since I was unable to step over it. I still used the medical chair while in there, too.

The water was cool against my skin, and I felt instantly relieved. The dull aches and pains left as soon as I got into the water. Swimming to my usual spot, I waited patiently for Emery to join me.

“That’s great to hear,” He smiled.

Going to the edge of the pool, Emery grabbed a set of barbells and handed them to me. Taking them, the two of us went over the workout plan for the day. Pulling himself up on the pool’s edge, Emery picked up his stopwatch and told me to begin.

Getting on the interstate, I sang along to the radio as I made my way to Hoseok’s. The two of us had been friends since high school, our mutual love for swimming making it impossible to keep apart, and only growing with time. He was one of my biggest support systems after the accident. Both of us had retired years ago now, but I remembered our days as Olympians fondly. Those were the best years of my life.

A small group of our friends were getting together at his house to watch the summer Olympics this afternoon. The women’s swimming finals were happening today, and I knew two of the girls competing. Turning on my blinker, I quickly got off the interstate.

Pressing around my car’s radio screen, I went to my contacts and pressed Andy’s number. She was off today and in charge of getting everything together. Hoseok had tried to do it himself, but always seemed to forget who should do what and ended up buying everything himself. She picked up after the fourth ring.

“What’s up, sugar?” Andy greeted, her voice soft and light. Her Memphis accent was thick and brought a smile to my face. Everyone had made jokes about her being southern when we first met. “Don’t tell me you’re missing Nationals.”

I shook my head even though she could not see me.

“I’m on my way,” I replied. “What should I pick up? I completely forgot.”

Andy sighed, “You’re just as bad as Jin.”

Seokjin was Andy’s husband. The two of them had been together whenever they moved to Colorado, married before I ever met them, and became quick friends with Hoseok when they moved to the Springs. That was how I had met them. Whenever their daughter Dani was born, Andy had asked me to be her Godmother and I sobbed in her lap. They were my closest friends next to Hoseok. Jin was indeed very forgetful, though, and the jibe made me chuckle.

“Cut me some slack,” I argued. “I’ve been working out for two hours straight.”

I could hear the smile in her voice, “Just get some pizza or something. We’re picking up some wings and Hobi’s in charge of the drinks. Minho and Tilly are bringing… something. I don’t even know anymore.”

Fully laughing now, I saw a Little Ceasars up ahead and got into the correct lane. Minho and Matilda were loose cannons when it came to our parties. While sweet, and fiercely loyal, I found myself wondering why I hung out with them at times. We were night and day personality wise, but I loved them dearly. Minho would probably bring some Korean side dishes from home, and Matilda would pick up a few packs of ramen from the store. Andy was stressing over nothing again. I hoped she was getting proper rest on her days off.

“I’m at Little Caesars,” I told her, parking my car. “I’m going to get the basics. How many things of Crazy Bread should I get?”

She thought for a second before replying.

“Five?” She was definitely unsure about her answer.

It was hard to gauge just how hungry everyone would be, and Jin was a bottomless pit.

“Sounds good,” I said instead, already thinking about getting more.

“Drive safe. See you in a bit.”

“See you, Andy,” I unplugged my phone from the charger.

Pressing it to my ear, I pressed my start button and turned it off. I climbed out of my car and started walking to the store.

“Love you,” She sing-songed playfully.

“Love you, too,” I replied. Opening the door, a worker greeted me with a smile. “I’m about to order.”

Shoving my phone in my back pocket, I gave the worker an awkward smile before telling him my order. I ended up getting seven bags instead of five. Just in case. Dani really liked the stuff and Jin could smash an entire bag by himself. While I waited for the cheese pizza to come out of the oven, my phone started ringing.

“Hello?” I answered, unable to check the caller ID while the cashier shoved the crazy bread into my arms.

“I heard from a little bird that you’re thinking about competing again.”

I grinned and thanked the cashier as she handed me my other pizza.

“Hello to you, too, Frank,” I replied. “And your little birdie wouldn’t happen to be Hoseok, would it?”

Frank and Sarah Boone had become a part of my life after the accident. They ran a local support group to help those affected by drunk drivers to get connected with resources and therapy. The two had lost their son when he decided to drive home drunk from a party and used the group as their own coping mechanism. They were wonderful people and owned their own joint coffee shop and bookstore in Denver.

“Won’t say names,” He chuckled, “But it might have come from a certain part-timer. So, is it true?”

I placed the boxes in the passenger seat and rounded my car. This was not a conversation I was expecting to happen today. I had brought up the idea to Hoseok since the Olympics were coming up next year, but I was not committed to it. I was enjoying my new job coaching and did not think I was in any condition for competition. When he brought up the Paralympics I laughed. Those competitors were in better shape than I was, and I doubted I would qualify. I was disabled but my disability did not (as far as I knew) carry over into the pool.

“I was just talking shit, Frank,” Backing out of the parking space, I put in Hoseok’s address and started to drive. Switching over to my car’s phone, I put my phone down and looked at the road. “You know I’m happy with my life right now.”

He made a grunting noise that told me he did not really believe me. No one did. All of them were sure I was miserable about my career ending far before its time, and while that may be true, I felt more loss about the life I was supposed to have than winning medals. I missed Namjoon more than any medal. Frank and Sarah understood that.

“I know that,” He cleared his throat, and I could hear the congestion. Frank had come down with a nasty case of walking pneumonia two weeks ago and was still recovering. “Just got a little excited is all. It would be nice to see you putting yourself back out there.”

It would be nice to see myself back in the pool, I could admit that. I had dreams of it at times. Being a competitor was a part of who I was. From the first time my dad took me to my swim classes when I was six all the way until I claimed my eighth Olympic medal, everyone had said there was nothing I hated more than losing. I was fiery, free-spirited, and kept my eyes on the prize. It was the thing Namjoon loved about me the most. That made me frown.

“I left a champ,” I forced a laugh. “Need to save some gold for the rest of them.”

Hiding behind humor was a pastime.

Frank laughed, oblivious to the hollowness in my tone. “Heard they have a new guy taking your place.”

That made me snort, “He’s not taking my spot. Totally different competitions, my friend.”

“Winning gold like you, that’s for damn sure.”

It must be Jimin Park. The kid turned up on the scene a year after my accident. He was a very, very talented swimmer. Fast as a bullet with the best butterflies I had ever seen, Park was a force to be reckoned with in the men’s league. It was a joy to watch him swim and this year would be his first Olympics. Hoseok and I were very excited to watch him.

“If you’re talking about Park,” I chuckled. “He’s far from new. He’s been competing for a few years now. First Olympics, though.”

“He’s young, ain’t he?”

I nodded, “23, I think.”

Truthfully, I did not know how old he was. I remember the buzz around how young he was when he first broke out on the scene. He was eighteen when he took home gold all season before a family emergency took him out of the Olympics last minute. No one knew what really happened, but his team had said his brother was in an accident, tragically losing his life, and Jimin was prioritizing his family. He’s competed every year since and with the Olympics next year, I was certain Park would be there. He deserved it.

I was parked in front of the house now and from the cars outside, I was the last person to arrive. Frank and I talked for a few moments. It was cute how much he had learned about swimming so we could be buddies. Sarah was the only person who recognized my face when I first started going to the meetings and her husband was determined to get me to open after weeks of sitting in bitter silence in the back.

We hung up after I promised I would make it to the meeting next Thursday. Frank was not happy about me skipping the past two weeks, but understood I was taking some time to myself. My boys were going to compete this year, I had fought tooth and nail for that funding, and the extra hours at school were exhausting. Jeremy and Evan showed promise, but they knew how to drive me up the wall with all of their simple mistakes.

As I suspected, the party was in full swing. Matilda and Minho were laughing loudly on the sofa, Hoseok sporting a beer in the recliner next to them, and Dani practicing her gymnastics in the middle of it all. I could hear the commentators talking animatedly about the girls, who they believed would come out on top and highlights from the night before, but I never really paid them any mind.

“Pizza’s here!” Minho boomed, practically running to greet me.

I laughed, handing over the boxes, “Need help carrying the rest in.”

Matilda offered, happily taking my car keys and leaving the house. Minho had disappeared into the kitchen. Dani spared me enough attention for a smile and wave before launching into excited pleas for me to watch her new moves.

“Super cool, babe,” I smiled sweetly after her handstand. Dani was not particularly good at gymnastics. She started later than the other girls, rarely did anything she was actively afraid of, and hated her coach. Andy was already looking for a better gym, but I just thought she should start pointing her in another direction. Dani loved dancing and she would be a wonderful ballerina or figure skater if given the proper training. The Kim’s, however, seemed fine watching her deal with gymnastics and cheerleading. “You’re getting better.”

Dani beamed, “Daddy said the same thing.”

Flipping the right way around, her hair coming out of its messily tied bun and falling down past her shoulders. Brown, loose waves made her look so much younger than her eight years, her small stature only selling the illusion even more. Her skin was smooth, and she always looked as though she had been playing outside in the sun, a constant tinge of pink beneath her sandy skin. Her features favored her father, large eyes, long face, and plush, pillow-like lips, but after meeting Andy’s parents, I could see her grandmother hidden within the mischievous glint in her eyes and too small ears.

“Your dad’s a smart guy,” I joked.

She continued to babble away as I made myself more comfortable, kicking off my shoes and tossing my hat onto the small buffet table that sat above the shoe rack. Matilda came back inside, her arms filled with bags of bread, and I took two from the pile. With a thankful, thin-lipped grin, she also complimented Dani’s moves before disappearing around the corner in the direction of the kitchen.

“Dani,” Hoseok seemed to have finally grown tired of hearing the girl talk. I would imagine this was all he had been hearing since he arrived. “Do you want to color with me?”

The little girl clapped happily, her eyes bright and shining, before abandoning her mat to gather a few coloring books and her massive hoard of crayons. Hoseok looked at me then, a sly smile on his face before winking. I chuckled and shook my head. He always did that to make her shut up.

I left the living room before Dani came back. I loved her dearly, but I could admit she talked too much. It was a good thing for a kid her age to be so social but that did not mean I wanted to hear her every waking thought. Andrea and Seokjin were the only parents in our little group, and I imagined it would stay that way for a while. Even if my dreams of children were still alive, I did not have anybody I wanted to take on that responsibility with.

Minho was eating the pizza, as expected, while Matilda had already claimed her own bag of Crazy Bread. Andy and Jin were snuggled up at their dining table, his arms securing her to his chest, and she curled into him. I loved watching them together. I had grown up in a house with two people who hated one another, barely kept up a facade of civility before my mother skipped down to be with her new boyfriend in Florida leaving my dad and I behind in Pennsylvania. We made it work but things were never the same after that. It made me happy to know little Dani would feel the love radiating in her home as she grew up. I had never seen two people so enamored with one another in my life- not even Namjoon and I.

“How was therapy?” Minho asked after we exchanged pleasantries. “Hoseok said you were talking about competing next season.”

I laughed in disbelief. That man did not know how to keep his mouth shut. I said the same thing I told Frank over the phone, and he scoffed. Minho never truly laughed, if I was honest. It was always a snicker, scoff, or chuckle. He was a man of little words and even fewer outbursts of joy, and I found his versions of those things just as reserved as the rest of him. He was the most expressive when he smiled, but those were just as rare as a genuine laugh. Dani managed to squeeze more out of him than anybody else.

“Stop meddling!” Andy scolded the other man from her spot in Seokjin’s lap.

“Never,” My friend replied, amusement clear in his voice.

“Never!” Dani echoed, voice louder than Hoseok’s. She was giggling happily alongside him, and I rolled my eyes. He was her favorite. “Never!” She repeated again, pleased when Hoseok laughed. “Never!”

“That’s enough,” Jin’s voice was even and smooth.

Dani did not shout again but we could all hear her and Hoseok attempting to cover up their laughter. Andy smiled fondly. Their little friendship had warmed her heart. After Dani, Andrea had been diagnosed with cervical cancer. It had come back six times before her doctor said she needed to get a hysterectomy. She grieved the children they would never have, the large family she dreamed of stolen from her, but once Dani was old enough to walk, she had been glued to Hoseok’s hip.

Hoseok for all he spoke about never wanting children, he adored Dani. His family was small, he and his sister the only children, but they were extremely close. She lived in New York City as a fashion designer and got married last year, and I always had the feeling Hoseok felt lonely without her. Dani was a welcome break from routine and made him feel special. It was sweet but I hoped my friend would find someone to share his life with someday.

“It’s starting,” Hoseok announced.

It was a great day for the U.S. Opal Simmons was one to look out for. She was the oldest woman on the team, a shocking 24, but she could out swim a vast majority of them. Her freestyles were amazing, earning her a gold with Japan just a few points behind. I was hopeful she would be able to come out on top in her distance swim. While not the fastest in the pool, the girl knew how to pace herself. The cameras cut to the shot of one of her coaches smiling triumphantly at the performance.

He was a good friend of mine, Oswald Bunch. He had been heavily involved with the Olympics for years now, promoted to one of the lead coaches back in 2020, but I remembered when he was still competing. A few years older than me, Ozzie was known for his backstrokes and long-distance swimming, and we bonded whenever we got the chance to meet in London back in 2012.

That was my first Olympics. I was a fresh-faced 20-year-old on a mission. My team at the time was stoked to have me around and I was excited to be there. I had built up a solid reputation over the course of two years, winning seven medals my first adult-competitive season, and the high was incredible. Back then, I was always the one to beat at the breaststroke and therefore, the medleys were in my favor as well. I walked away with 4 golds that year, and again in 2016. The accident happened a year later, but I left the competitive world with 8 gold Olympic medals and 19 world champion gold medals. Katie Ledecky held the record now, but for a time, I was the most decorated female swimmer in history. I was excited when I was finally passed up, happy for the younger woman.

Ozzie was the man, but sadly never got out of Michael Phelp’s shadow. It was not his fault. That man was insane in the water and would become the most decorated Olympian ever. Bunch was a great swimmer, but I did not know a single person who could compare to Phelps. Hoseok, maybe, but he only had 12 gold medals. Phelps had 23.

“Simmons looks great out there,” Hoseok praised, a large smile on his face.

“Her butterflies could use a little work,” I murmured back, already seeing how I could fix it with some extra exercises. “It’s slowing down her freestyle. What else is she scheduled for?”

“I think she’s doing the 200-meter freestyles and the medley relay,” He replied, taking a sip of his beer. “Bunch is banking on her pacing.”

“She won’t win those,” I was positive. “She’s just going to get tired. Breaststrokes are obviously not her thing.”

He laughed, “You’re the breaststroke queen, Y/N. No one's as good as yours.”

I shrugged, “Ledecky is a great swimmer.”

“Never said she wasn’t,” He sipped. “Her freestyles are killer. Girls could never beat you in breaststroke or a medley. You’re untouchable there.”

It made me smile despite myself. Hoseok was right, those were my competitions. Even if Katie had surpassed my record for most gold medals ever, I still had more Olympic medals than she did, and they were in completely different events. I could have kept my title had the accident never happened. I would have. Even if we were friendly, Ledecky would have been my competition, and I would have fought hard to keep the record.

“What’s Jimin doing this year?” Matilda asked as the women’s scores were posted. Opal would be a strong contender. “Anyone know?”

I nodded, “I haven’t watched every competition, but he’s sticking to what he does best. Didn’t he swim the 200 yesterday?”

“Yeah,” Hoseok replied. “He’s skipping out today and doing his individual tomorrow. Swimming back-to-back after that. Kid’s a fucking animal in the water.”

I couldn't agree more. As I stared at Opal’s smiling face, her pale blonde hair and bright blue eyes, I wished I had been able to watch Jimin instead. She was cold and impassive even with a large, perfectly white grin that took up most of her face. In fact, I found her quite boring outside of the water. No flair or features that set her apart. Just a tall, well-built blonde with a nice smile. Ozzie would have to work hard to make her memorable.

“Simmons did well,” I yawned. “It’s getting late, though, and I have work in the morning.”

The goodbyes were quick, and Dani made me promise to take her roller skating soon. There was a girl at school making fun of her and she wanted her “super cool” and “famous” aunt to tell them off. We all laughed, and I told her we could go this weekend after gymnastics practice.

My drive home was uneventful. It was already dark out, something that bothered me more than I would ever admit out loud, and I never turned on the radio. I preferred to drive in absolute silence, eyes and ears glued to the road. I had only started talking on the phone recently.

I was much worse after the accident. I refused to get inside of a car for weeks and if I did, I was a mess. No one was allowed to be a distracted driver either. No radio, no phone, no conversations. Nothing. Jin had been the default chauffeur during that time and put up with my anxiety better than the others.

It was close to a year before I tried to sit in the front seat again. Another five before I got behind the wheel. For hours I would sit in the garage with my hands on the steering wheel staring off into the distance. I was still in a wheelchair for most of my daily activities and a very obvious limp made me too self-conscious to be seen. Isolating was easy. Keeping the others away was more difficult.

My drives started with me just backing out of the driveway. I went around the block a few weeks later, hands shaking and Andy trying her best to soothe me in the passenger seat. I did not drive past the Whole Foods two minutes away from my house until after the second year. Things were easier after I ditched the wheelchair and got more open to the idea of therapy.

Moving out of Denver was the best decision I ever made, the Springs were easier to drive in and the traffic was not as awful. Andrea and Jin bought in Black Forest once I was settled in Briargate, so loneliness was never an option.

Matilda almost moved in after the housewarming party Andy threw for me. She said it was far too big for one person and the neighborhood was to die for. I laughed her off at the time not really wanting to admit how nice it sounded.

Nestled in Fairfax, my house was a beautiful piece of architecture. The striking brick and wood front exterior provided a warm welcome, with teal trimmings bringing a fresh feeling to the otherwise plain color scheme. With five bedrooms and four bathrooms, I dreamed of the day I was able to fill them all. A dream that I hoped would come before I hit 35.

Pulling up to the house, I waved to Chika next door. The old woman raised her hand, still nursing a large mug of what I assumed to be tea and smiled. They were lovely people and we often helped one another out whenever we could. Chika liked to bring over food if she cooked and I paid my landscapers to keep with their lawn.

“Late night?” Chika called out from her front porch.

“Went to a friend’s house,” I replied.

“Good,” She meant it. “Glad to see you getting out of the house.”

I smiled but was not sure how well she could see my face in the dark.

“Yeah. Night, Chika.”

“Night, Y/N.”

I showered quickly and sipped on a cup of chamomile tea before heading off to bed. After taking my night medications, one to force myself to sleep while the other blocked the never-ending nightmares, I climbed into bed. I was able to play a single game of solitaire before they both kicked in. I fell asleep with the sound of gentle rain humming in the background.

“Let’s go, guys!” I yelled, blowing my whistle.

The twelve boys waited, their small talk coming to an abrupt end. We had just finished warming up and I allowed all of them a short water break. I was a huge advocate for rest periods. No one needed to pull a muscle or fatigue early due to over working. I had a 2800-yard routine prepared, 800 of those done during our warm-ups, and the rest divided between our main set and cooldowns.

Jordan, our captain, was smiling happily. He was such an excited kid, and his positivity was contagious. While some of the boys were disappointed when I first chose him to replace our old captain after his graduation, I was sure his spirit would do everyone some good. It did not take long for the others to come around and he was beloved.

“Alright, so we have a 1600 main set. In between each of our reps, we will be doing a switch out of easy breast and backstrokes. Clear?”

“Crystal!” They all replied in unison.

“Alright. That's what I like to hear,” Flipping through my clipboard was more for show than anything. I used to rely on it heavily when I first started teaching since brain damage messed with my short-term memory, but I had been doing this long enough to know what was happening. Now it was just a way for me to write notes about their performances. “We’re starting with a 4x100 with 15-second rest; the first 25 butterfly. 3x100 with 10-second rest; again, first 25 butterfly. Following?”

No questions were asked, and a few guys voiced they were good for me to keep going.

“Good. Then we have a 2x100 with 5-second rest. First 25?”

“Butterfly,” Jordan replied.

“Thank you, Abbot. Okay, and we’re finishing up with 8x50 freestyle. Fast and easy.”

All twelve of them began to prepare to take their mark. One by one they stood on their blocks and waited for me to make the call. I admired them all for a moment. You could see the difference in each one of them. Those who were confident stood tall, their shoulders squared, and head held high. Newcomers were still figuring out their place on the team but were eager to prove themselves. Two of them would be leaving us this year, Gabriel and Marcus, and neither one of them were continuing to swim after graduation. It was a sad thought, but I was happy with how they carried themselves. They had both come a long way.

“Take your mark,” My voice echoed. Each boy got into their starting position as I watched them like a hawk. One of the freshmen, Phineas, needed major work on his form. I would talk to Jordan about it. Grabbing hold of my stopwatch, I took a deep breath. “Go!”

Marcus was the first in, like always, and I ignored him. I knew he was fully capable of taking care of himself. Phineas was the weakest link in my chain right now. He was struggling, his arms growing tired and his speed nonexistent. The other freshmen, Tobias, or as the guys called him, Twig, was not much better. He had more strength, but I chopped that up to his size. I would need to really start working some more beginner drills to get them in shape. Jordan and Gabriel would be more than happy to give up a Saturday or two to help out.

Marcus was the first one finished and I marked his time. Still a tenth of a second faster than Jordan. After Jordan came Gabriel and then Joseph and Anthony. I was disappointed in Jett’s time, but I would invite him to the weekend practices with the others. He needed some foot and hip exercises. Twig came in before Phineas, but every other boy was already out of the water by the time they made it back. Phineas was visibly upset, and I made a note to pull him to the side after practice to cheer him up.

Practices typically lasted two hours and the boys swam hard. Phineas did, in fact, perk up after I told him I was noticing tons of improvements in his performance. Twig just seemed happy he was not the worst guy in the water. After talking it out with Jordan, we decided on a good weekend time for extra practices, and I stayed behind to print off a poster and signup sheets for the rest of the boys. I had a feeling almost everyone except Marcus would show. He had a part-time job now and his weekends were full.

Sitting in my office, I poured over my observations and timecards. With a team this large I should have an extra set of hands to help with timing. I sent an email to the principal asking about helpers and got back to the nitty gritty.

All of them could work on something. Phineas might have needed the most work, Twig not far behind him, but my most seasoned swimmers had room for improvement. Jett was still struggling with maximizing propulsion, Anthony and Milo needed to get better water balance, and Gabriel’s pull could be better. Even my best swimmers, Jordan and Marcus, could use a bit of refinement in technique. It was nitpicking but they were too talented to give up on their potential.

It was close to nine when my phone began to ring. I knew it could not be any of my usual calls. Andy was working nights this week and Jin was fast asleep at home with Dani. Minho was in bed by eight, Matilda would never bother me this late, and Hoseok hated phone calls. Checking the caller ID, I was shocked to see Ozzie’s name.

“Hello?” I answered tentatively, afraid he might have called me by accident.

“Otter,” Ozzie greeted me happily. He seemed so delighted that I answered, I smiled even though I hated the nickname. “How’s life going?”

I chuckled, “Rockin’ and rollin’. Saw your girl last night. Looks great, Oz.”

“Appreciate it,” He was so dismissive of it I became interested. This was not a catch-up phone call or else he might have hooked onto the bait. My stomach twisted in anticipation. If it was not for pleasantries, then it was for work and that was something to be excited about. “Still teaching high school?”

“Mhm,” I fiddled with my pencil, papers forgotten. “My boys team is strong. I only have three girls that signed up so we’re just training during P.E. and hoping some more join.”

We chatted a bit more about the team. The longer it went on the more knots I had. Oswald was fishing for something, and I wanted to figure out what. After telling him about Phineas, I asked what the random call was about.

“Always cutting to the chase,” He joked.

I did not laugh.

“Alright, you caught me,” Ozzie sighed. “Look, the Olympic team is looking for another assistant coach and your name came up a few times.”

My mouth went dry. I had heard about Tiara Marsh leaving to focus on her family. She had a baby and stepped down a few months after coming back from maternity leave. I respected the decision and messaged her my congratulations. Ozzie had taken the lead coach position three years ago with Todd Packer as his partner. The other assistant, Drew Jones, was a sweet girl from what I heard and working with her would be a dream.

Still, it was an impossible task. Trying to imagine myself on the sidelines, coaching the next big names in sporting history with a massive squad behind me made my stomach queasy. I doubt any of them respected me. My leg was ruined, my career burned out just as quickly as it started, and I never had the chance to reach my peak. Now I am a 30-year-old washed up recluse. Just thinking about the media frenzy made my breathing get a little heavier.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Oz,” I murmured.

“I told them you wouldn’t go for it,” He replied, unsurprised. “They’re going to approach Storm Kline instead.”

“Oh,” Now I was confused. “Why’d you bring it up then?”

“Because I got to thinking,” I braced myself. Ozzie was known for his big, bright, dumb, impulsive ideas. “I knew the Olympics would be asking too much of you. Cameras and interviews are the last thing you want after the fucking circus you went through last time.”

That was an understatement. Circus did not even begin to describe the absolute hell the media put me through after the accident. So many speculations and insensitive remarks managed to ruin any peace I could have gotten during that time.

While I was in a coma, no one knowing if I would ever wake up again, the news thought it wise to harass my friends and family. My old coach, Victor Stanley, was assaulted whenever he left the hospital. When news got out that Namjoon was pulled off life support, his mother and father were so sick and tired of people parked outside their house they packed up and moved away before I even woke up. I wanted nothing to do with the media after that.

“It’s a little different but I think you’d be a great fit for the job,” Ozzie continued. “One of my boys, Jimin Park, is in need of a personal coach. His mom is sick and he’s wanting to stay in Michigan for as long as he can before coming out to the Springs to start training for Paris.

“I almost called Jung, but I don’t think the two of them would get along well enough for this to work. You’re the only person I know I can trust with him, and from what I’m hearing, you’re one hell of a coach already.”

This was somehow even more nerve wracking than the assistant position. I had never trained one-on-one before, at least, not long term. I was sure I could do it, but a high schooler was very different from an Olympic athlete relying on me to keep him in shape for the season.

“What happened to Hamilton?” I asked, still unable to wrap my head around the situation. “I thought he was Park’s personal trainer.”

“He was but the two fell out when Jimin decided to stay in Michigan. You know how Matt is.”

That I did. Matthew Hamilton was a massive asshole, and that was putting it lightly. He was one of the best trainers around and got results which was why he still had a job despite his rotten attitude. I had the misfortune of running into him quite a few times over the years and my distaste only grew with each passing. I could imagine that conversation not going over particularly well.

“But what about my team?” I asked, staring at my desk. All of my plans and strategies were mapped out and I was ready to put them to use. My boys were counting on me and leaving them felt wrong. “I don’t want to leave them high and dry, Oz.”

“Ask Hoseok to cover for you,” I rolled my eyes at his blase attitude.

“This is my team.”

“And this is Jimin Park.”

I hated that I understood where he was coming from. Most of my boys would never go off to swim professionally and their skill set was not on par with anyone out right now. They were not committed to the strict regime that would take and I did not get paid well enough to justify the extra hours. Jimin, however, would pay me extremely well and I would get that experience under my belt. I might even learn a few new things to add to my own drills.

“Give me a few days to think about it,” I finally conceded. “And set up a phone call, or meeting, or something with the kid. Need to make sure we’re on the same page before we waste one another’s time.”

Ozzie laughed, “I think you’ll get along just fine, but sure. I think he’d appreciate the gesture.”

Nothing of much importance was said after that. We hung up with promises of talking soon and then I was alone once more. My office was still just as messy and swamped with paperwork as it had been before, but it all looked different. It felt like I was already gone, and a deep homesickness settled in my chest. I stared at the papers in front of me and sighed before shooting a text to Hoseok.

As I expected, everyone had told me to jump at the opportunity. Hoseok even said if I didn’t, I would be the biggest idiot he had ever met. Matilda asked if she could come (I told her no), and Dani just seemed bummed that we could not hang out anymore. Andy and Jin were the most supportive of the situation while Minho the most cautious. He was worried about the media catching wind of something and causing a frenzy. After Matila pointed out how old news I was, I felt a little less afraid of that possibility even if it was a hit to my ego.

Ozzie seemed pumped when I told him I was open to the idea if Jimin and I seemed to mesh well. I was firm in my decision to talk to him before making any concrete plans, and from what Ozzie told me, my future student was extremely receptive to the idea. I also learned that Opal was jealous of her fellow Olympian, but I tried not to let that puff up my chest.

That was why I was sitting in my home office, hair nicely styled and a light layer of makeup on waiting for Jimin to join our Zoom call. I wore blue since Ozzie said it was his favorite color, but the material was slowly driving me insane. While the color was nice, deep blue and sparkled whenever the light hit it, it was scratchy and irritated the skin around my chest and shoulders. I almost got up to change but a small icon with the letters ‘JP’ in the center popped up before I could.

“Hello?” A soft voice called out.

“Hey,” I replied with an awkward wave. “Can you see me?”

“Yeah, can you see me?”

I shook my head, “Just your icon.”

Cursing under his breath, Jimin apologized for the tech issues. I adored how nice he was to listen to. It was unique, gentle and raspy, but also feminine in its softness. There was no bass or hardness, every sound and syllable light and airy with self-depreciating laughter after every insult he threw at himself. Apparently, Jimin was not great with technology and always had a difficult time with cyber meetings.

“This is fine with me,” I tried to reassure him. “I don’t need to see your face to talk.”

“No,” He agreed, “But it’s a little awkward for you to have your camera on and mine’s off.”

I could hear him clicking around. “I’ll turn mine off, too, if that helps.”

He shut that down immediately and continued clicking and typing. After a few more minutes, he found his problem. Then the icon was gone and there he was.

His face was round, his cheeks plump, and chin soft. The first thing I noticed about him was his lips. They were rounded and plump like a baby duck with a soft, heart shaped cupid’s bow that led up a small, button nose. Everything about his face was soft except his eyes which were almond shaped and flicked outwards like a cat’s. His hair was pitch black and parted down the middle, framing his face and making his pale skin look like snow. When he caught a glimpse of himself in the camera a large smile took over his face and I felt the wind get knocked out of me.

“Can you see me?” He asked.

I nodded, “Yeah, I think we’re in the clear.”

Neither one of us knew what to say for a moment. He swirled around in his chair in search of his water bottle. He stood up, excusing himself for a moment. He was also wearing a blue shirt, a pair of black pants, and seemed just as nervous as I did. He left the room while I sat and thought about him.

There was one word to describe Jimin: pretty. His soft lines and tiny waist made him look so much smaller than I had imagined him. All of the years seeing him on the tv did nothing to compare to watching him walk around a little room in his home. Without a cap and goggles, Jimin was angelic, and I felt uneasy. How was I supposed to work with someone I found this attractive?

“Sorry,” He was back now, a large Yeti cup in hand. “I should’ve made sure I had this already.”

“No worries. I’m not in any rush.”

He sat back down, and I finally noticed the large oval necklace he was wearing. I did not know what it could mean to him, but I had seen him with it a few times at events. It was simple and silver, no gem in the center of the pendant, and sat directly over his heart. He took a sip from his cup, snapping me back to action.

“How’s your mother doing?” I asked. “Ozzie told me she wasn’t well.”

His expression saddened me, and I hated that I brought it up. I knew how much I did not enjoy talking about Namjoon’s death, and while his mother was still alive, she was not well. Unfortunately, I could not take the question back.

“I’m not sure how much you know,” He started, leaning back in the leather computer chair. “She has melanoma and isn’t doing chemotherapy anymore. I’m staying in Michigan so I can spend as much time with her as possible.”

My heart ached for him and his family. Cancer had a reputation for ripping families apart and I could only imagine how this was affecting the young swimmer. My own grief was long and drawn out, guilt and shame hanging over my head for years before I was finally able to let it go, but the death itself was swift. Joon was dead and buried before I woke up from the coma, but I could recall every detail of that hospital room when Victor told me what happened. I hated to think about watching the life slip from him, knowing he would die, and knowing there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

“I understand. I’m really sorry to hear that.”

I knew it was inadequate, but I did not know this man well enough to say my thoughts out loud. Maybe later, after a few weeks of training together, I could get the courage to let him know I would be there if he needed someone to talk to. I knew all about navigating grief and I would happily help him stay motivated through this horrible, tragic time. Jimin stayed quiet so I took it upon myself to get the ball rolling again.

“I know you’re going through a difficult time right now, and I just want you to know that I get it and I see you. If we work together, I will make sure your mental health comes first. Whatever you need, whatever your family needs, will always come before getting in the pool.

“You were working with Hamilton before this, and whatever happened between you two- I don’t know, that’s none of my business, but I can promise you I will try my best to make sure our professional relationship doesn’t reach that point. Just tell me what’s up and I’ll make it work.”

Jimin smiled a small, sad smile that paled in comparison to that blinding show of teeth earlier. My eyes could not help their roaming and I felt guilty. There was a chance we would be working together, and I could not feel this way about him if that time came. I could only hope that if we did decide to move forward with this arrangement, any affections I could have for him would get buried. I would have to talk to Hoseok about this.

“I have to take her to appointments once a week,” He replied, voice small and eyes staring at something off camera. “She’s not getting her chemo anymore but still goes to see her doctor often to manage symptoms as best she can. She also has a dance class every Sunday morning and I will be going with her.”

I nodded, “I can live with that. As long as you’re still putting in work you can take your mom anywhere.”

He took a deep breath and finally looked at the camera again. The vulnerability I found there took me off guard. Jimin must be someone who wears their emotions on their sleeve, and I would have to learn to nurture that. Namjoon always told me I needed to work on being more sensitive to others, a skill I had yet to master.

“Matt didn’t like how much time I spent out of the pool. I understand where he’s coming from but I’m hoping we can come up with a training schedule that works well for the both of us. I feel bad enough pulling you away from your life, and I don’t want my personal shit to bleed into what you’re going through.”

It was a kind gesture, one I appreciated, but he needed to get over it. I told him in so many words that I was happy to help him.

“Trust me,” I said. “If I didn’t want to do this then we wouldn’t be talking.”

Jimin seemed to like my bluntness and I was fond of his over-analytical anxiety. The way he fidgeted reminded me of Namjoon, his forward and direct confrontation of his emotions and needs so strikingly similar it made it nearly impossible for me to dislike him. I don’t think a person alive could dislike this man.

“I can be in Ann Arbor next week,” Jimin had gone on another rant about inconveniencing me and I shut it down. “Everything here is already squared away. We can discuss it more later, how does that sound?”

He smiled wearily, his nerves causing him to squirm in his seat.

“I’m really looking forward to working with you, Y/N.”

I hoped my expression looked as sincere as I felt, “I’ll take care of you, kiddo.”

Pulling a face, Jimin laughed heartily. Triumphant, I smiled brazenly, his laughter contagious. I made a note to pull out a few age jokes now and then if it meant making him smile like that.

“I’m an adult man, I’ll have you know,” He was still laughing.

“Could’ve fooled me,” I teased.

“We’re going to get along just fine,” He seemed more confident than ever, and it warmed my heart. “Let me know when you’re expected to get here. Do you have my number?”

We exchanged our contact details. After days of talking over email, I finally found a smiley face emoji in my notifications, a Michigan area code attached. Saving his number, I replied with the old woman emoji earning myself another laugh.

“Talk to you later, Park.”

“See you, coach.”

I left the meeting, my chest much lighter after talking to him. He was a sweet man and not half bad to look at. I was a few years older but not disgustingly so, and he was more than available from the sound of things. Realizing the direction my thoughts were going in, I stood up from the chair to start writing out some drills and scheduling prototypes. Before I could get out of the door, however, my phone vibrated in my hand.

Jimin: 👶

I did not respond until I had my flight booked.

Me: I’m flying in on Tuesday. Know a good place to stay?

He replied a few minutes later.

Jimin: Do you need a lot of space?

Me: Not really

Jimin: One of my neighbors has their mother-in-law suite for rent. I could probably cut you a good deal with them.

I smiled. He really was a sweetheart.

Me: Thank you. And no deals. I can pay for myself.

Jimin: My mother would be very upset if I didn’t at least try.

Jimin: I was raised to respect the elderly.

I laughed out loud, thoroughly amused. I had a feeling he was testing the waters after I poked fun at him earlier. Jimin was probably used to the stick stuck up Hamilton’s ass. He was in for a treat. At the pool I was cool and collected but I could cut up with the best of them.

Me: Sorry, couldn’t hear you over the sound of my hip breaking

I was practically giddy with excitement waiting for his response. It had been such a long time since someone joked around with me like this. Hoseok tried but he was awful at taking a joke, so I stopped poking the bear. It was refreshing and all too familiar.

Jimin: I’ll get you one of those life alerts just in case.

Was he flirting with me? Did I care? Shrugging, I went along with it. I would remain strictly professional while we worked together, but if things developed after that I would let them. Happily. I barely knew this guy, but I remember this feeling. It was the first time since Joon’s death that it showed itself to me and I wanted to hold onto it.

First work then play, I told myself.

Who knows? This little bit of infatuation could fade just as quickly as it came, and I would leave Ann Arbor with a new friend instead. Might even be able to score a steady job with the kid if things worked out. My life in Colorado would remain untouched, my friends happily accepting a new kid in the group when he came to visit, and my house just as bare and empty as it always had been. The years continuing to pass me by.

I tried not to think about why that thought made me want to cry.

“I told you I’m fine,” I sighed into the phone, waiting at the baggage claim for my things. “You’re in rare form today.”

Andrea laughed, the sound slightly hysterical and I winced. That was the wrong thing to say, but she was driving me insane. I had traveled around the world multiple times, and she was acting like Michigan was going to kill me.

“Well excuse me for worrying,” Andy bit back, her tone clipped and harsh.

“I’m sorry,” I heaved one of my bags off the conveyor belt. “I know you’re just looking out for me, but I promise you I’m fine Andrea. You’ll be my first phone call if that changes.”

The other bag finally popped up and I quickly snatched it. Slinging the large duffle bag over my shoulder, I adjusted it until it rested comfortably on my shoulders. Lifting the handlebar off my large suitcase, I drug it behind me while I followed the signs for the exit. Jimin said he arranged for someone to pick me up but did not specify who. He was busy with a few interviews this morning and could not get me himself. He had been very disappointed about it.

“I know I’m nagging,” Andy groaned. “Scratch that. I’m acting like a total helicopter parent.”

I laughed, “Your husband had been even worse. The man tried to book me a charter flight because he was worried about my leg in an airport. What the fuck does that even mean?”

Everyone had been super happy for me, especially my team. Those boys almost cried when I told them who I was helping out and Jordan begged me to bring him back something autographed. None of them seemed as familiar with my own background but I was fine with that. All of them took to Hoseok rather well, except for Marcus who made me swear to come back before school let out. I did not tell them I was planning to make monthly trips to give Jimin some space with his mom. I was sure that surprise would go over very, very well.

Despite his indifference when I was first talking about the job, Seokjin became an overprotective dad as soon as I made him aware my flights were booked. He was quick to cancel them and put in a few calls of his own. Jin was an operations manager for Delta airlines and knew plenty of pilots. He was able to get me a plane to land in Willow Run out in Ypsilanti, but I quickly intervened and told him a normal flight was perfect. I rebooked my tickets and flew into Detroit Metro at 10 am.

Andy snorted, “He means well.”

It was snowing in Michigan, and I was finally hit with the realization that I would be seeing far more of it here than I ever did back in Colorado. It was only mid-September, so it was still light and melted away quickly. I would have to ask Jimin if it stayed this calm into December, but I had a feeling things would pick up by late November.

It was a very cold morning in Detroit, and I was excited to get into a heated car. Getting off the phone with Andy, I quickly sent Jimin a quick text message letting him know I was outside and looking for my ride. A loud honk made my jump, almost dropping my phone in the process.

Pulled up at the curb was a navy-blue Volkswagen Beetle. I could tell from its body that it was an older model, and it was a convertible. Sitting behind the wheel was a little old lady, a pair of gardening gloves on her hands and a pair of large, hexagon sunglasses taking up most of her face. Her face was familiar, and it hit me. Sitting behind that wheel was Jimin’s mother.

She smiled at me and waved, beckoning me closer to the little car. I forced myself to smile back. My nerves made it feel damn near impossible, but I managed. Opening the door, I did not know where to put my things. The backseat was so small.

“There’s a lever on that side that’ll push it up. You should be able to get everything to fit if you try hard enough.”

Fumbling around, I finally found the little handle and pulled up. The seat lurched forward, folding in on itself, and I clumsily shoved my suitcase into the backseat. It smelled like stale cigarettes and fake pine, but when you had a car this old it usually had history. I was excited to pick up my new car from the dealership. My Porsche already had a difficult time driving around Colorado and I did not think it would survive the heavy winters in Michigan, so I decided to leave it home and get an Altima. I had the money and could easily get rid of it. Tilly had been talking about needing an upgrade.

Finally managing to get both bags into the backseat, I put the seat back and got into the car. Closing the door, I sighed in content. The heaters were at full blast and pointed directly at my cold face. Buckling my seatbelt, I leaned back and tried to relax after the long day of flying. Jimin’s mother pulled off the curb.

“It’s cold out there,” She laughed, her voice just as sickeningly sweet as her son’s. “Glad you were able to make it okay.”

I nodded, “I’m surprised to see it snowing so early. We don’t usually get anything until closer to Thanksgiving.”

“Colorado, right?” I could hear a faint accent and I remembered that Jimin was first-generation Korean American. Both of his parents moved to the states before he and his brother were born. Media outlets loved talking about it, but I was not sure how much he enjoyed discussing his personal life. While he came off as a sweet and mild-mannered man, he kept his personal life private. “I’ve heard it’s very pretty.”

“It is. Too expensive, but very, very pretty.”

Then she was fiddling around with the radio, and I finally cracked a genuine smile. I was not sure how much work had been done on her car, but I was positive the sound system had been completely redone. A brand-new radio, complete with a touch screen and Bluetooth, lit up at the touch of her fingers. A man’s voice serenaded us through the updated speakers, and I was in awe at how beautiful it sounded. I assumed he was speaking Korean and Jimin’s mother sang along fluently.

“What’s your name again?” She asked once the song was over. Another, more upbeat song started, and she increased the volume. “Jimin told me but I’m horrible with that sort of thing. I’m Na-Yeon, but Audrey works if it’s easier for you.”

I pulled a face, “Audrey?”

“It’s my American name. It’s easier for people to pronounce and more convenient. All of us have one. Jimin’s is Christian.”

It was odd to think about. A name that was mine but not mine. Christian did not suit Jimin, but I could imagine growing up with a name that other people made fun of would be difficult. Maybe even impossible. Still, I did not feel comfortable calling the woman Audrey. She did not seem to particularly care for the name and I did not want to alienate myself from their circle for convenience's sake.

Namjoon’s mother had been similar to Na-Yeon, always afraid her culture and customs would make me uncomfortable or burdened, but I managed to calm her fears and reassure her after years of showing up to Chuseok with a smile on my face and food in my hands.

“I like Na-Yeon,” I finally replied, voice small. “It’s nice. I’m Y/N.”

“I like Y/N,” She echoed back to me, making me grin. “It’s nice.”

It was a long drive filled with K-pop, ballads, and sporadic conversation. Na-Yeon was very funny. She sang along to every song, dancing as she went, and calling on me to sing alone. Of course, I could not speak Korean very well and hummed the melodies instead, but it appeased her. When she did speak to me it was to ask me questions about myself.

“You’re that swimmer, aren’t you?” She asked, sparing me a look once we stopped at a redlight. “The one everyone’s trying to beat.”

I shook my head, “At one time, sure, but not anymore. I’m retired.”

Squinting her eyes at me, Na-Yeon pursed her lips.

“We used to watch you. Haru called you a mermaid.”

That was not too much of a shock. Jimin was swimming at that time. While I am a few years older than him, he would have been in middle school when I went to my first Olympics. He had told me he joined the swim team the year before. He said that watching Michael Phelps win 6 gold medals changed his life forever, and I could not help but agree with him. I had a huge amount of respect for my fellow Olympian and wished him well in his retirement. What shocked me the most was the mention of Jimin’s little brother. The dead brother.

“That’s sweet,” I did not know what to say. “I felt like a mermaid back then. I’m not that good anymore but I still like to swim sometimes.”

“You were in an accident,” It was not a question. “We saw it all over the news. Couldn’t believe all of those people harassing your family like that. So sorry for your loss.”

It was strange to talk about it again. I appreciated her keeping it vague. I had gone through a tremendous amount of change and growth since then, but it was nice to hear someone else validate how crazy the media frenzy was. I would not wish it upon anyone, and I was happy her family was allowed to grieve in peace. Neither Namjoon’s nor my own were allowed that luxury.

“Thank you,” I replied. “I’m sorry about Haru. I can’t imagine what your family went through.”

She smiled sadly, “I think you can.”

We did not talk much after that. The music still played, Na-Yeon still sang, and I still hummed, but we did not ask any more questions. Neither one of us wanted to bring up those hurt feelings. It was not until we turned down a long, empty road that I realized I had yet to ask her about her cancer.

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked.

“As good as I can,” She breathed. “My boys are both worriers so don’t take anything they say to heart. Bunch of hypochondriacs.”

And even though I laughed along with her, I knew that she was lying. They were not overreacting. She was sick, refusing treatments, and letting herself die. Anyone would be worried about her. Na-Yeon must dislike being taken care of. Well, I thought she would need to get used to it. I loved spoiling others.

“Eloise and the kids must be here,” She muttered to herself, pulling to a short driveway.

I did not know who Eloise was, but I would soon find that out. There were two cars parked out front. One was a simple, black Tahoe with a brightly colored steering wheel cover. The other was another vintage model. Painted a pretty light, muted green the truck was in pristine condition. It was an old Ford, the branding written across the tailgate, and a spare tire was bolted to the side. I asked Na-Yeon about it and she smiled happily.

“It’s Jimin’s,” I felt my heart rate increase. “He must’ve gotten back. Pretty thing, huh?”

I nodded, not really paying attention to the truck anymore. I was about to meet Jimin for the first time and my nerves were taking over. I knew how much his looks affected me over video chat and I was afraid I would not be able to control my facial expressions in person. I was resolute not to act on whatever attraction I may have felt toward him. My professionalism would not allow it. It did not mean, however, that I wanted to discuss it with Jimin at any point. It would make him uncomfortable and affect our working environment.

“Keep your bags in the car,” Na-Yeon told me. “Jimin’s going to take you over to meet the Andersons this afternoon.”

Walking up to the house, I was first struck by two things. The main one being the impressive teal it was painted and the other the loud talking and laughter coming from inside. It was odd. Thinking about my own parents I knew we had never been so happy. Mom had left when I was so young that I could hardly remember her, but I could recall the screaming and shouting. Dad was quiet after she left, spent most of his time locked away in the garage watching sports channels and leaving me to my own devices.

When I started swimming it helped for a time, but when I was old enough to leave, we spoke two or three times a year. After he met Danielle, his new wife, he stopped reaching out altogether. The accident had spooked him enough to warrant holiday and birthday calls for a time, but when he had another baby those slowly faded away. My half-sister and I had never met, Danielle did not like acknowledging that my dad had a child with another woman, and it seemed as though my dad was fine with how things turned out. I dealt with it.

The laughing echoed through the house, and I could hear loud foot-steps pitter pattering on the tile floors. The house smelled heavily of kimchi and lemons making my heart ache. Joon and I used to keep the windows open for days after his mother came over to make kimchi with him. We would squat on the floor for hours, laughing and talking. I missed those days more than I realized and I smiled involuntarily. For the first time in years, it felt like coming home.

“Sorry about the smell,” Na-Yeon whispered to me.

I shook my head and took my shoes off. “I love kimchi.”

She smiled brightly, her shoulders immediately relaxing. I was glad I had spent so much time with Namjoon and his family. Na-Yeon was someone who wanted to make others feel more comfortable even if it put her own peace at risk, but I would never ask her to change her routine for me. I loved learning about other people and her little house brought me more happiness than I thought possible.

“Sounds like we have company!”

A short, stocky man came into the living room. He was wearing a white polo shirt and khaki shorts; his hair was very short with silver streaks starting to take over the once very black strands. Catching sight of me he smiled.

“You must be Y/N,” The man said. “I’m James.”

His accent was much thicker than Na-Yeon’s and he introduced himself in his English name. He seemed much happier about it than his wife did, and I decided to go along with it. If he wanted me to call him James, then I would.

“Nice to meet you,” I replied, giving him a small bow.

His smile got even bigger somehow, and he returned the gesture. Na-Yeon chuckled beside me and started to speak to her husband in Korean. I picked up a few words and deduced that he was supposed to make sure I was going to get a nice lunch, and she wanted to know if he had taken care of it. He nodded and told her he had.

“Hungry?” James asked, Na-Yeon already disappearing into the house.

“Yes,” I quickly followed behind him.

“I made jjigae,” He frowned. “I can’t say it in English. Sorry.”

The house was small and warmly lit. Cream tile flooring, exposed wood beams, and white walls. Whatever loud conversation they had been having before I got here had died down, but the footsteps did not. I could hear children giggling somewhere in the little home and my curiosity peaked. I did not think they were Na-Yeon and James’s.

“I want to say it’s soup,” I kept my voice down not wanting to make him feel awkward. “Or stew, but I don’t think it matters that much.”

“What’s the difference?” James asked, just as amused as his wife at my vague knowledge of Korean words. “Soup and stew the same, no?”

I shrugged, “I have no clue. I’m a miserable cook.”

That made James laugh. We passed all of the rooms in the house, the kitchen, living room, and dining room all in the back of the house. As we passed the second room to the left, James said it had been Haru’s photography studio before he passed away, but they ended up converting it once Eloise gave birth. He did not say it out loud, but I had gathered the kids running around had been their youngest son’s. I did not know how old Haru had been when he died, but it was far too young to be having children. I was 31 and still felt ill equipped for the job.

It was a small kitchen with very simple and plain colors. The countertops were obviously laminate, but someone had taken the time to stick on a marble patterning to make it look nicer. Black appliances clashed with the chestnut cabinets. The tiles were no longer cream but hideous black and white checker printed that clashed heavily against the olive-green backsplash. While the rest of the house seemed to go through renovations at some point, I had a feeling the kitchen remained largely untouched.

Sitting at a small table on the other side of the room were Na-Yeon, Jimin, and a young woman. She was a cute girl, long brown hair and blue eyes, a large number of freckles across her cheeks. Her outfit was very modest, a pair of flowy cream pants and an equally flowy olive shirt. Her hair was tied back with a ribbon that matched her pants, and taking a closer look at her, she wore no makeup. A classic girl next door.

“Come sit,” Na-Yeon waved me over, her voice showing no room for argument. “Hyun-Soo is in charge of lunch.”

I was only briefly confused, the name completely unfamiliar, but by the time I sat down I was sure she was talking about James. It made sense for her to call him by his Korean name, and since I had shown no qualms about using their proper names, she saw no need to bring them up herself.

“Nice to finally meet you,” Jimin’s sweet voice reached me, and I smiled at the sound. “I hope getting here wasn’t too bad.”

He reached out to me, and I happily took his hand in my own. The skin was soft, perfectly smooth, and warm. It was over far too quickly but my displeasure was easily hidden. Andrea always complained about my poker face and how difficult it was to get past it. She said it was too good and thus refused to ever play poker with me again.

“It was nice,” I meant it. Na-Yeon was wonderful company.

“Hope the concert was nice.”

That made me and Eloise laugh. Na-Yeon smacked Jimin’s arm playfully, unable to keep the smile off her face, and the two began to bicker. Having them in the same room highlighted the differences I hadn't noticed before. Jimin’s nose was closer to his father’s, his eyes, too, and both of them had a slight lisp. Na-Yeon’s teeth were perfectly white and straight while one of Jimin’s front teeth was slightly chipped. Jimin had a dimple; his mother had none. Their English soon turned to digs in Korean and I could no longer follow. A few words here and there but nothing substantial. James joined them.

“Hi,” Eloise shyly greeted me, obviously used to being left out of conversations.

“Hey,” I replied lamely. “Eloise?”

She nodded, “Cam and Harper are playing but you’ll meet them in a bit.”

I nodded along and cemented the names into memory. It would look bad if I forgot them and kids had an ability to remember the worst things about a person. I did not want them to dislike me this quickly. Their giggles and feet were still going, and I suspected they had their own rooms on top of the little playroom in the hall.

“What do you do for work?” I asked Eloise, hoping my attempts at small talk were going over well. The other three were still chatting and I stopped paying attention long enough to be completely lost. Their dialect was different from Namjoon’s family, and I gave up entirely once they switched in and out of it with ease.

“I’m taking over Audrey’s restaurant,” Eloise, it seemed, preferred to use their American names. I wondered if she called Jimin ‘Christian.’ I really did not like the name for him. Not at all. “We used to be co-owners but she’s preparing for…” Eloise’s eyebrows scrunched together as she struggled to come up with a way to voice her thoughts, “her next steps. You know what I mean?”

I nodded. It was so easy to forget why I was really here when Na-Yeon was so full of life. She laughed and joked easily, sang off-key in the car without a care in the world, and called the shots at home. I had hardly noticed any sickness, but I knew better. I already figured out she hated being cared for and our trip in the car could have taken a lot of her. More than I realized.

Wanting to change the subject, I asked about the kids. Eloise was more than happy to talk about her little ones. Cameron and Harper were twins, names that she had originally been very against but when she lost Tony (Haru preferred his American name, Anthony, and all of his closest friends called him Tony), her opinions changed. Harper was the bigger, older baby, while her brother needed to stay in the NICU for a few days after birth due to his weight. They were joined at the hip and rarely seen without the other, something Eloise was happy about given she was usually too busy to spend as much time with them as she would have liked.

“How old are they?” I asked.

“Almost 4.”

Jimin was 19 then. I shuddered to think about how old Haru was, or Eloise for that matter when they became parents. When I was their age, I had been at the top of my game, though not what I would call my prime. If I had gotten pregnant my career would not have been over, but meeting Joon never would have happened. That was a travesty regardless of how things turned out. Trying to picture a life without him touching it made me physically ill and so I pushed any of those thoughts away.

Cam and Harper came out of their room when dinner was ready. They were both very cute, loud, and dressed identically. Harper’s hair was braided down her back while Cam’s was in a bowl cut, and I laughed every time the little girl made a big show about her sparkly red shoes.

James made a very spicy fish stew. It was delicious, so salty and hot, but I needed multiple glasses of water as I ate. He used red snapper adding a sweet, nutty flavor to the otherwise savory dish and I loved the zucchini. Like many Korean meals there was an array of side dishes surrounding the large pot of stew. Tonight was braised potatoes, steamed eggplant, a radish salad, and, of course, kimchi. A small bowl of rice was given to all of us to eat the stew with and the rice cooker was filled if any of us wanted more.

The Parks were a lovely family. Jimin was quiet and did not talk to me much but his mother more than made up for his silence. After getting all of the details about my coaching job she moved on to my life back in Colorado. We talked about my friends and what they were like, my house, and even my neighbors. Na-Yeon seemed particularly interested in Hoseok since Jimin had been such a fan of his growing up.

“You need to get her over to Calvin and Violet’s,” James told his son, scraping up the last bit of the soup out of his bowl. “They’re expecting her soon.”

Jimin looked at me, eyebrow raised, “Are you ready?”

I nodded, “We can leave whenever you’re done.”

He smiled and went back to eating his meal. Eloise left before I did, Cam was tired and Harper was bored without her playmate, so she decided it was time they went home. Cam liked an afternoon nap still, but his sister could run all day if you let her. Harper gave me a big bear hug before she left, something Na-Yeon said she did to everyone, and held her brother’s hand on their way out.

Na-Yeon eventually got up from the table, James followed after her, leaving Jimin and I alone. I did not know what to say, if he wanted me to say anything at all. He had hardly spoken to me since I arrived, and it left me feeling out of place. I was here for him, and he wanted nothing to do with me. He kept eating, the spice unfazed him, and getting bowl after bowl of rice.

Watching him walk around I was struck by how short he was. Most male swimmers were huge, well over 6 feet, and broadly built. Not Jimin. He could not be any taller than 5’9” with a thin, tiny waist. I could see defined muscles hidden underneath his white t-shirt, but nothing spectacular. Even his body was soft and elegant, moving gracefully and quietly, and absolutely none of it would give away that he was a world-class athlete. As if he could feel my eyes following him, Jimin’s eyes snapped to meet my own.

“Sorry,” He pulled his spoon from his mouth. “I’m sure you’d like to leave and here I am gorging myself.”

I stopped him before he could stand, “No, no. I’m fine. I was just thinking about your workout routine.”

The lie felt heavy on my tongue, but I could hear how natural it sounded. He sat back down and took another bite of his food. His workout regime was standard for most swimmers. Pull-ups, bench, squat, lunge, power cleans, power cleans to overhead press. After that he was in the pool for a few hours before going about his day. He usually added in another swim at the end of the day, but he had recently given it up to have dinner with his family.

“What are you doing for your core?” I asked.

“I stick to pull ups, crunches, thrusts, and back extensions.”

I nodded, frowning, gears in my head turning. I have always believed the core was the most important part of swimming. Arms as well, but I have seen many overwork those muscles and lose from weak turns. Hoseok used to joke about my performance and how I only won because of my turns. I would make sure he would be able to see a little bit of me in Jimin’s swimming. There was a reason I won gold.

“You don’t look very impressed.”

I chuckled, “Just thinking. You need more variety than that.”

“Gym snob, are we?” His mouth stretched into a playful smirk, and I could not help but smile back. “You must be an animal in there.”

“I don’t work out like I used to,” I admitted, averting my eyes. “Most of my exercises are yoga and running now. I swim twice a week.”

I was hoping to get back in the pool more often, but I was not sure I was ready for the disappointment that would follow. My sessions with Emery were simple, exercise-focused, and had little to no expectations behind them. They were there to help me gain strength and confidence in myself. Saturdays were spent with Hoseok doing laps around the pool and shooting the shit. It was just enough to get your heart pumping but never went past that.

Failing was daunting. I could not remember a time before swimming consumed my life. My dad always said I was afraid of the water; it was the biggest reason he placed me in lessons. He did not have the time (nor patience) to teach me himself, and after I saw younger children getting into the pool I was determined to act like a “big girl.” I was only three at the time, so the memory was lost to time, but I went every week after that. It gave my dad a break and I had friends for the first time. I learned later that mom had left for a few months and dad was drinking again, but at the time all I knew was that I liked swimming, and I was good at it.

It was frightening to believe that all of the time, energy, and hard work went to waste. 30 seconds. That was all it took to destroy my life. 30 seconds and all of my joy, love, and happiness was gone. My career, my health, and my Joon. I hated the man who hit us. Hated the way his family cried for me. For him. For Joon. Squeeze my hands into fists, I was glad they were hidden underneath the table. Getting in the water and realizing it was truly over would only make that hatred worsen, and my therapist told me I needed to let go of my anger.

“Violet and Calvin are excited to meet you,” I did not know if Jimin could see something in his face, perhaps my eyes, but he changed the subject. The look on his face made me feel exposed. “We should get going.”

No one was around when I left so I did not get to say goodbye, but Jimin yelled that we were leaving. We did not get a response and I wondered if his mother had actually gone to do laundry or take a nap. She looked tired when she left the table. Jimin told me to get into the truck and laughed when I said I could grab my own bags.

“Your hip might give out, granny.”

Off guard, a strange, loud noise came out of my mouth. He had yet to start up our playful banter and my heart soared. Jimin was a very cheeky man, his tongue sharp, and with a quick snapback time, he was difficult to take down. Our text exchanges were always brief and about work, but he managed to squeeze in at least one teasing comment about my age. He said calling him ‘kiddo’ is what started the whole thing.

“Just get in the truck,” He sighed melodramatically, rolling his eyes.

Huffing, I went across the lawn and got into the unlocked truck on the curb. The interior was just as refurbished as the exterior. The bench was covered in a dark green vinyl, and I could tell the rubber carpet mats were new. It smelled much better in Jimin’s truck. Less like cigarettes and more like the cologne he wore. It was floral, powdery, but with a subtle spice that made it bitter-sweet. It had a nice scent. It suited a man like Jimin whose own spice was buried underneath his pretty visage.

Watching him jog across the yard, I suppressed a sigh. It was easier to ignore how pretty he was when we were around other people. Now it felt impossible. His clothes stuck to him like a second skin, the black leather pants (which I had only just noticed were leather) making his thighs bulge and accentuating his backside. He was gorgeous and I felt sorry that I would have to keep it to myself. Jimin deserved to be told things like that, but it was not my place to do so. Not as a coach, trainer, or otherwise.

He tossed my things into the cab of the truck as if they weighed nothing. Arms lifted; his shirt rose revealing a delicious patch of skin. Watching him in the rearview mirror, I swallowed audibly. A thin, almost nonexistent patch of hair touched his belly button. Forcing myself to look away, I took a few deep breaths.

This trip was going to be long. Very, very long.

The drive down the road was quiet. Jimin’s radio was out, and he needed to replace it, so music was not an option, and he did not seem to want to fill the space between us. Neither did I. My growing bashfulness around him was distracting and strange. I had always been surrounded by attractive men, all of my friends back home were very good looking, but none affected me in the same way Jimin had. Perhaps it was due to my relationship with Namjoon that made all of the other men pale in comparison, but I could never know for sure. Either way, it was incredibly frustrating.

We drove for less than ten minutes. Calvin and Violet were the elderly couple renting out the small house in their backyard. Jimin had spoken to them for me, and they were all too willing to help me out. Violet nearly cried when I told her I was going to pay all of my rent up front, and actually did when I told her that I would help her fix up some things around the house while I was in town. The Andersons seemed like lovely people, and I was happy to know them.

Pulling up to the house I smiled. It was exactly how I imagined it would be. The Anderson house was a simple, All-American home with a front porch. The window trimming was black, house white, and a beautiful garden wrapped around the front at either side. The roof and front door were the same color green as Jimin’s truck, and it helped the otherwise unnoteworthy home feel more inviting. Sitting on the porch swing was Violet, her silver hair braided down her shoulder.

“Before we get out,” Jimin mumbled, waving at Violet through my window. The old woman waved back, a large smile on her face making her look twenty years younger. “The Andersons are great people, but Calvin’s starting to forget stuff. Violet won’t admit it but it’s getting hard on her to deal with him. He can become very angry so keep an ear out. Last time he had an episode, Violet called my dad crying. She’s not handling it well.”

I frowned, my heart hurting, “Sure thing. I’ll let you know if anything happens.”

“Thanks.”

He was out of the car a few seconds later, voice so sweet and bubbly you would have never guessed what we had been talking about. Staring after him, my eyes squinted. I would have to keep my eye on him. Jimin was a great actor.

Getting out of the truck, I took out my bags and slung my duffle on my back. Jimin was quick to take my suitcase away once he caught me in the corner of his eye. Violet seemed positively giddy about it and made a few inappropriate comments about Jimin needing to settle down.

“I’m just saying,” She laughed when Jimin scoffed, face flushing the prettiest shade of pink. “You’re going to make a young woman very happy. Might as well get started.”

It was strange to think about my trainee seeing someone. He had made it very clear in his interviews over the years that his dating life was on hold until he was finished swimming. He did not want the added distraction and his family life was far too chaotic for him to focus on someone. This did not seem to deter Violet and her comments about his love life, or lack thereof, continued until we got inside of the house.

“Well,” Violet acknowledged me for the first time since I arrived, “This is the main house. It’s not much but it’ll work. Christian, take her stuff out back.”

I cringed. It really did not suit Jimin at all, but he seemed completely unfazed. Violet used his names interchangeably, sometimes calling him Jimin and other times Christian, but his English name rolled off her tongue more often than not. I wondered why she even bothered calling him Jimin at all. He did not seem to care either way.

Looking around the little house, I was pleasantly surprised by how clean it all was. The floors were carpeted and the walls a bright white, family photos hung up alongside landscape paintings. During my two-hour phone call with Violet, the woman talked my ear off, she bragged about Calvin’s art. I had to admit they were all very beautiful and I wanted to know where he had found all of the slices of heaven he captured. I hoped the places themselves were more colorful than he depicted. The muted washes of color made them blend in with the rest of the boring house even with how nice they were.

The furniture was just as boring as the house itself. All of it was cream or beige, nothing of importance really stuck out to me, and I was disappointed. All I could figure out about the couple was one was an artist and they had children and grandchildren they loved displaying. Even the smell of the house lacked character. No air freshener, no food, and no perfumes. Nothing to give away that people actually lived here. The Anderson home was a foil to the Park’s in every way.

“Come on out back,” Violet was already across the house, standing in front of a door beside the kitchen. “This is the utility room. You can do your laundry here.”

Following behind her, I felt even more depressed looking at her kitchen. It was nice, new appliances and a pretty coffee station on the corner closest to the utility room door, but it was bland. All white cabinets, white marble countertops, and stainless steel everything. Even the curtains hanging around the windows above the sink were dreadfully plain.

The utility room, like everything else, was plain. The washer and dryer were white, the floor concrete, and the shelving barebones. The detergent was the most colorful thing I saw since arriving. Somehow even this room smelled like absolutely nothing. Directly across from the door we entered was the backdoor and Violet told me where they would hide a key for me to be able to get inside.

“Ready to see it?” She asked, smiling politely.

I nodded, “Thanks again for renting it out to me.”

She chuckled, “No thanks needed. You were paying, that was enough for me to say yes.”

The back porch was tiny, just barely big enough for the both of us to stand on. There was a small vegetable garden along the side of the house, but it was empty. Noticing my wandering eyes, Violet told me all about the turnips and gourds she had been planting this season. She had watermelon and tomatoes in the summer, but they were long gone. The rest of the yard was taken up by my home for the next few months.

It was small, but that was to be expected. What disappointed me, though I should have not been very surprised, was how white it was. The windows were a dark gray, a small porch was set up with enough room for one of those hanging egg chairs, and two built-in planters. They were empty and Violet told me I was welcome to give gardening a chance if I was interested. She was planning on growing some flowers eventually, but she was not sure what she wanted.

The front door was open, Jimin already inside, and Violet and I went in. There was a small entryway, two doors leading to rooms I would explore later, and a small shoe rack. I took mine off and put them up. Violet watched me and took hers off as well.

“Audrey told me I should put one in here,” I was learning that Violet enjoyed meaningless small talk. “Glad I did. Don’t think Christian took his shoes off, though.”

I shrugged, “No biggie. I was going to clean up around here anyway.”

The house opened up to my right and I was happy with the space. I had a fully functional kitchen and enough space for my coffee cabinet along the wall. The living room would be able to fit a small loveseat, television, and coffee table. It was white and plain, but I was very happy with the floors. Whoever picked out the dark vinyl flooring must have had me in mind. I would go crazy if this place was as sterile as the Andersons’.

“I put your stuff in your room.”

Turning I grinned at Jimin. It was sweet of him to help me out. I was going to pick up my car tomorrow morning and he had volunteered to drive me. We would be starting our training next week so I could have some time to settle in. All of my furniture was arriving either tomorrow or the day after and my hands would be full. I was counting on Jimin and his friends to help me unpack. His manager was going to make himself known as well, but would not be staying for long. Apparently, according to Jimin, Sejin was not one to get his hands dirty.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll let you get settled in,” Violet was already scratching to leave, and I wondered why. She had been very hospitable over the phone. “You’re welcome to join us for dinner. Calvin is going to bring the air mattress out here tonight, so you have someplace to sleep.”

With a kiss on Jimin’s cheek, Violet slipped on her flats and left. Alone with Jimin again, I found it hard to speak. We were much better over text. Looking just as lost as I was, Jimin scratched the back of his neck and looked down.

“My, uh, my mom offered you her couch if you want it,” He stuttered, his face turning red. “Or, uh, um, you can take the spare room at my place,” He let out a huge gust of wind. “It’s a bit of a drive but I do have the space.”

Flustered, I quickly declined, “Thanks but I’ll be fine here.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jimin shook his head, the redness spreading down his neck. “For sure. Totally.”

The air was awkward now and I could not figure out how to fix it. Jimin was the one always breaking the ice between us, and now that he was acting like this I was stranded at sea. Even when he warned me he was more reserved in person I had not expected this. He was so quiet and skittish. How was I supposed to work with him if I could not get the courage to speak?

“Thanks for the offer,” I cleared my throat. “Are you staying for dinner?”

He shook his head, “I promised Jungkook we’d go out tonight. Any other time I’d say yes.”

I asked my disappointment. The thought of spending time with Violet and Calvin alone made me deeply uncomfortable. Their house felt like a hospital room and her weird behavior was unsettling. I could only hope Calvin was nicer but from what Jimin said he was a ticking time bomb. It would be nice to have someone act as a buffer.

“Why was she acting so strangely?” I asked, hoping Jimin had picked up on it as well. “It was like a totally different person.”

He frowned, “I think she’s just on edge since Calvin went to the doctor’s today. Their daughter took him, and she hasn’t heard anything. She’s a sweet woman, don’t worry.”

Now I felt like an asshole.

“That’s understandable,” I murmured. “Do you think she’ll be upset if I order food for all of us? If she’s stressed out, I don’t want her feeling like she has to cook for me.”

Jimin smiled, “She would appreciate it. I’ll go talk to her, how does that sound?”

I nodded, grateful. “That would be nice. The house gives me the creeps.”

That made him laugh, “What? Why?”

I shrugged, giggling with him.

“Feels like a funeral home or something. I hate the minimalist aesthetic.”

Jimin bit his lip, “You’d probably hate my place, too, then.”

I chuckled. It was easy to imagine Jimin inside of a huge modern house, dark wood and barely anything in it. He was a single man, busy, and spent so much time at his parent’s house it did not matter what he had inside of his own place. Not wanting to make him self conscious, I bit my tongue.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

He cocked his head to the side, and I laughed.

“Fine,” I conceded. “I would probably dislike it, but I don’t think it looks like a white padded cell.”

I may have been exaggerating a bit, but it was not that far off from how the Anderson home looked to me. I hoped by asking me to help fix up a few things, Violet meant giving the house a much-needed makeover. If I was lucky, I might be able to convince her to get a few throw pillows to break up the monotony.

“Jeez,” Jimin laughed. “Harsh critic.”

“Well, is it?” I joked, glad to have found our footing again.

“No,” He shook his head in thought. “It’s mostly gray and black, but still just as empty. Probably emptier, honestly. I don’t have as many pictures as Violet does.”

Smirking, he snapped his fingers, “My trophy room is pretty colorful. I have a lot of pictures and shit in there.”

That made me smile. I was not bringing any of my memorabilia here, but it was nice to hear him sound so proud of himself. I kept most of my competition stuff in my basement, a large China cabinet displaying all of my awards. My favorite had to be the small, cheaply made trophy sat at the very top. It was beside my Olympic medals, worn and dull beside the beautiful necklaces, but I loved it all the same.

It was the first trophy I ever won. I was seven and my dad convinced me to sign up for a swimming competition my swim class was hosting. He promised to come. I practiced a lot preparing for it and made use of the new above ground pool my dad had bought. I won the race. My own joy and happiness made me forget that he never showed up until it was time to go home. I had to wait with my coach for two hours, and by the end of it she felt so bad for me she took me out for ice cream. Dad never apologized, I don’t even think he acknowledged that I won at all, and I never tried to bring it up again. Still, I loved that stupid thing. It was the reason I wanted to compete. That little pocket of happiness between winning and realizing that no one cared was precious to me and I held onto it.

“I need to get going,” Jimin sighed, reaching into his back pocket and snapping me out of my thoughts. “Jungkook’s blowing up my phone. Just got broken up with and needs a drinking buddy.”

I sucked in air through my teeth, “Well, your services are needed. Don’t let me hold you up.”

Jimin smiled at me, “See you tomorrow, yeah?”

I nodded, “See you.”

He lingered in the entryway for a moment more before shaking out of whatever trance he had been in. Slipping his converse back on, Jimin waved at me before walking outside. His face was buried in his phone, so he never saw me wave back. He shut the door, the sound echoing in the empty house, and I was once again left alone.

Violet came out a few minutes later to discuss take out until we finally landed on pizza. She never said thank you, but her offer to give the tip since I was paying was more than enough. Then later when a few of my boxes came in early she happily carried them to me. She even helped me put everything away. When Calvin came home, she led me back inside and said with so much affection it made my heart melt.

"Calvin, this is Y/N. Sweetest woman I ever did meet. Bought us dinner."

Calvin reminded me of Namjoon in a way. His soft eyes and gentle voice. He took my hand when I introduced myself, his hands cold and soft. Wrinkles and sunspots went up the length of his arms.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," He said.

"Likewise," I replied.

We ate in silence, the three of us watching Jeopardy on the sofa. Even though I had been nervous about eating inside, Calvin's presence warmed the place up. Once a prison now felt like a poorly decorated home. A home filled with love.

As I watched them together, Calvin reaching out for Violet's hand and her giving it to him without question, I felt myself getting choked up. There had been a time I had that. Joon would be on the floor, book in his lap, while my hands were in his hair as I studied my training tapes.

I left early that night. I blew up the mattress, the house quiet, before sending out a few texts to my friends to let them know I was getting on alright. After that, I put on nature sounds to help me drift off to sleep. I had not felt this lonely in a very long time.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio

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yamujiburo · 3 months

Note

Some Delia tattoo ideas if you're interested:

Something cute: Her favorite flower (I imagine cherry blossoms, but you can use whatever you want). She got it on a whim before she got pregnant, after she saw a pretty girl with a similar tattoo. For placement I imagine it either between her shoulder blades or on her lower back to make it easier to hide, but again, it's up to you!

Something sentimental: Something to represent Ash, and her hopes for him. She's very supportive of him, and with her backstory of not getting to persue her dream I imagine that this tattoo would represent her wish for Ash to be able to follow his. I think daffodils would work well, considering they represent hope, happiness, and ambition. She would've gotten it when she found out she was pregnant, and placed it over her heart

Something silly: Arbok's markings! She got it on a dare or a lost bet before she got married, and has been ignoring it ever since. She had it placed on her back so she doesn't have to look at it. Jessie obviously loves it tho

Something angsty: Something to represent Ash's father. She got it just after he left her, maybe hoping to show it to him if when he came back. I picture forget-me-nots on the inner side of her ring finger. Over time she stopped looking it and, ironically, forgot about it until Jessie notices it and brings it up

I wanted to come up with more actually Pokemon related suggestions, but I just really love floral tattoos 😅

Plus with Delia's Japanese name being Hanako I think the floral theme fits

These are sooooo cute ;0;

I have a pokemon/flower tattoo idea that i think is cute and silly and lines up with her ~lore~. but also i love the idea of her having an arbok tattoo from a dare despite being scared of snake pokemon hahahaha

#ask yam

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catherinnn · 7 months

Text

The Only One

Friends with benefits!Eddie Munson x fem!reader

summary: Eddie is all sweaty and in need of a shower after playing around all afternoon with Dustin and Steve, you offer to join him on that shower.

warnings: SMUT +18, oral (f and m), fingering, p i v, lots of dirty talk, lots of cum play, just pure filth really. (lmk if I missed anything)

1.9k words. masterlist

It was a sunny day, mid-July, the kids were on vacation.

And this was noticeable since they were calling every. single. day. to hang out together.

Calling you, Eddie, Nancy, Robin, Steve, Gareth, Jeff, anyone really. Someone would have to agree eventually!

Luckily for them, most of you agreed today. It was a really nice day outside.

The boys started to play and run around each other, as if they were 5— Steve and Eddie included —until the sun started to set, and you and the girls couldn’t sunbathe any longer.

You weren’t even wearing bathing suits, but the boys started to play like kids, so you just laid on the cut grass to chatand sunbathe.

“Shit, it’s hot today!” Steve complained as they all came back to where you were sitting.

“It’s not hot really, you’ve just spent the whole day running” Robin corrected him.

“Well, either way, I’m all sweaty now” he said as he walked right to where Robin was to give her a hug, just to annoy her.

“Get away from me! You disgusting dingus!”

“Fuck, I need a shower, I’m all sweaty too now” Eddie complained and he took off his shirt and he threw it at you just to bother you.

“This is not grossing me out, if that was your intended result” you warned him. The truth was, it was doing the exact opposite. Seeing Eddie heavy breathing, cheeks flustered from how hot he was, all sweaty, making his tattoos shine. Yeah, this was very very far from disgusting.

“Oh, it’s not? What is it causing then?” he asked with a daring tone.

“Quite the opposite actually” you said, walking towards him putting your hands on his arms, stroking him.

“Oh yeah?” he asked on a low tone only for you to listen.

“Yeah… actually, why don’t you let me join you in that shower?”

“Really?” he asked with a smirk.

“If you’d like”

“Oh sweetheart, it would be my pleasure”

And since you were on the woods next to the trailer park Eddie lived in, you didn’t have to wait much to get to that shower. You just said goodbye to everyone who kind of imagined why you were going with him.

They all pretty much knew about you situation with Eddie, this friends with benefits kind of deal. Well, obviously you didn’t tell the kids, but they figured out eventually that you two were more than friendly. Steve with Robin and Mike with Lucas and Dustin, all had bet that you two would end up together eventually.

As you two got to the bathroom, clothes started to come off. Your shirt and bra, sandals, shorts, panties. Same with Eddie’s clothes, all between heated kisses and caresses.

Eddie turned the water on and got in the shower first. Cold water getting warmer once it got to hit his skin, wetting his hair, taking all of his little drops of sweat with it.

You followed him, softly pushing him against the wall to also start to get wet. You kissed him, hands going straight to his hair, his went straight to your hips, pulling you even closer.

As you keep making out, your hands lower to his chest, to his belly, and his v-line, caressing him sensually. His hands grab your ass, squeezing it, silently asking you to keep lowering your own hands. But you pull away from him.

“Time to get you soaped up now” you say as you grab the slippery bar and start to slowly run it through his chest. You continue with just your hands, stroking his arms, his belly, and this time you actually do lower your hands more, you grab his cock and massage it, the soap making it easier. Eddie exhales out throwing his head back against the wall too. You stroke him until you feel all the soap has run off with the water, and then you get on your knees.

You kiss his cock, lick it and stroke it until you’ve had your fun messing with him. That’s when you put your lips around it, going up and down with your head.

“F-fuck yeah” Eddie moans and you feel one of his hands on your head, following your movements. “Just like that baby, your mouth feels so good”

You hallow your cheeks and stroke with a hand what you can’t reach with your mouth.

“Mphm” he moans again biting his lips. Your eyes looking up at him. If you thought he looked hot before at the woods, it’s cause you had forgotten how fucking hot he looked getting head: his head thrown back against the wall, eyes closed shut, heavy breathing, biting his lower lip but still letting small whimpers out.

“God baby, it feels so good” he moans and he opens his eyes to look down at you, only turning him up more, if that was even possible. Getting him closer to cum.

And that’s when you stop. You pull away and stand back up. Eddie understands what you mean, you want him to fuck you. But he wanted to play with you a little bit.

He grabs you and pushes you against the wall this time. He grabs the soap and rubs it slowly on your arms first, then your chest. He leaves the bar of soap to continue with his hands. He massages your breasts, pinching you nipples a bit to make you gasp, lowers to soap up your belly and he finally reaches where you need him the most. You feel two of his fingers touch your cunt, spreading your lips.

“You’re so wet, just from having my dick in your mouth baby?” he teases.

His fingers focus their pressure on your clit, rubbing it slowly, causing your body to send shivers down your spine.

He smirks watching you take the pleasure he’s causing you. He kisses your neck and with his other hand he squeezes and pinches your breast.

As he feels you getting closer and closer to your orgasm, he gets on his knees in front of you, puts one of your legs over his shoulder and quickly attaches his mouth to your clit, liking and sucking on it until you finally reach your high.

“Eddieee! Yes yes yes yes” you moan pulling on his hair and arching your back.

“Turn around, sweetheart” he says after getting up, leaving kisses on your shoulder and neck. “Ready?”

“Yes Eddie, please” you assure him once you’re facing the wall, hands on it, arching your back and turning your head to your side to see him. You feel the head of his dick through your folds, getting it wet with your arousal, to finally push it inside slowly, just to tease you a bit more.

“Oh sweetheart, you always feel so good around me, squeezing my cock” He praises you, grabbing your hips so hard probably leaving marks, moving faster now, harder.

“Fuck, Eddie” you can’t help but moan, trying to grab onto something but all your hands meet are the tiles on the bathroom wall. “God Eds! This feels so good- you always make me feel so good!”

“Yeah? You like how I make you feel, baby?”

“I love it!”

“Such a good girl, are you my good girl? Only mine, aren’t you?” he asks possessively.

“Yes! Only yours”

“Exactly, you’re my favorite girl, only one I want to be with” he praised you, not even realizing what he was saying. He just said what he felt and then this would be future Eddie’s problem to face.

But oh was this working for you. All his praising put you more into a headspace where all you could think of was Eddie.

Eddie.

He realized this. He could feel you clenching around him, getting even wetter and making him move faster inside you because of this.

Your back arched like a cat, mouth opened into an O shape, eyes closed shut, clenching your fists so tightly that your fingernails split your skin open. But you didn’t feel the pain, didn’t even realized. All you felt was pleasure.

Eddie started stroking your clit to make the matters worse. And you couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m gonna cum, please let me cum!” you begged.

“Oh you wanna cum? Am I making you that good? Show me baby, show me how good I make you feel? Cum for me”

And this was like a praise for him. Feeling you come undone around him, thanks to him. Listening to you screaming his name, screaming for him. Boosted his ego and his confidence and somehow it made him even more into you, more, more and more every time he made you feel this good.

He was holding you so tightly, one hand grabbing your hip and the other squeezing one of your breasts. Cock moving into you so good, squeezing him just right. He looked down to see where you two joined, seeing himself covered in your arousal and your cum. He felt like he was in heaven.

He couldn’t help but start moaning you name as well as cursing for how good you were making him feel.

“I’m almost there baby, I’m gonna cum for you”

“Mmh yes, Eddieee”

And he finally collapsed. You felt him filling you up.

You stayed a few minutes quietly like that. Eddie holding you close. Both calming down until you could breathe properly again.

He pulled out, and as soon as he did, he saw his cum running down on your thighs. And scratch what he thought before, this was heaven for him.

He got on his knees and ran his tongue over your slit collecting your juices, tasting you two together.

This felt so dirty and so good. He started eating you out again and you used all the strength you had left to keep moaning, face against the wall but you felt so sensitive that he was able to make you feel good one last time for that night.

You finished showering- or… well, started actually showering now. He helped you out and wrapped you around a towel, then himself. You brushed each other’s hair, and got dressed.

“That was… just- perfect” you found the words to describe it once you laid on the couch, he suggested you stayed and watch a movie with him, and you couldn’t say no.

“It really was,” he said with a smile on his face “and I meant what I said, you are the only one I want to be with” he finished a little nervously.

“Really?” you asked with a smile and he nodded. “I feel the same, Eddie”

“Sweetheart, this friends with benefits thing was great, amazing actually. But I want to be more than that, you mean more than that to me” he confessed.

“Eds, I like you so much more than that” You told him and kissed him softly.

“Would you be my girlfriend? Please?” he asked with a smile.

“Yes, I will” you returned the smile and kissed him again.

And let’s just say that now Robin and Mike were $20 poorer, and Steve, Lucas and Dustin $20 richer.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #stranger things smut #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine

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siredtosturniolos · 3 months

Text

drunk in love part two!

pairing: matt sturniolo x reader

summary: here is part 1!

warnings: smut.

authors note: first matt smut ever i hope u guys like it!! tysm for all of the love on my posts <3

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

the way his eyes fluttered over every person, how they zoned in on your lips as you licked them. you would never get over his tattoo’s, and how incredibly sexy they made him look.

“why are we all up so early?” chris whined from next to you, dramatically throwing his head backwards.

nick huffed, “i couldn’t fall back asleep so here we are.” he shrugged, partially distracted by his phone.

“someone kept snoring.” matt teased, dodging your closed fist as you went to punch him in the arm.

you scoffed in mock offense, “you weren’t even in the room when i woke up.” you pointed out, making matt raise his hands in surrender.

“yeah, why were you on the couch at like 5? i came to get a pepsi and you were passed out.” chris asked, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. matt left you last night? you curiously look to matt who avoided eye contact as he responded to chris.

“just couldn’t shut my brain off, must’ve fallen asleep at one point.”

the room was left in silence, nobody caring enough to keep a steady conversation. it was one of your favorite things about the triplets, you never felt pressured to always have something to say, or have to crack a joke to break the tension.

“so what’s the plan today?” chris suddenly asked, shocking everyone in the room. he definitely wasn’t the type to want his day planned out. you shared a look with matt, who looked just as shocked as you felt. chris glared at all three of you, before nick replied.

“we could film.” nick suggested, apologetically smiling at you as you wouldn’t be included. you didn’t typically film videos with them, as the fans have mixed feelings about you. they know you exist, as you usually appeared at matt’s side frequently in the weekly photo dumps.

you were better off to make your appearances few and far between.

“yeah, we need a video for wednesday.” matt reluctantly agreed, making you grin to yourself. he definitely had other things on his mind. you also had those things on your mind, but half the fun is the anticipation leading up to actually doing something about it.

“lets do a blind, deaf, and mute baking video. it’s been like, a year since we’ve done one.” nick replied, making you enthusiastically nod.

“those videos are hilarious.” you agreed making them all smile at you. you were their number one supporter, always offering advice for how they should carry on their content for their fan’s sake. it was easier for you to see what the fans were thinking and feeling, although matt knew just as much as you did.

they were quick to start filming, and you retreated to matt’s room. you spent the next hour or so watching tiktoks, every so often getting distracted by the screaming in the room over.

before you knew it, you had started to slightly doze off, jerking awake every couple of minutes. matt finally entered the room, and immediately joined you on the bed.

“baby?” he whispered to your sleeping figure, slightly waking you up.

“hm?” you replied, keeping your eyes shut. matt didn’t respond as he placed soft kisses to your exposed shoulder, thanks to your tank top. you softly grinned at the feeling, slowly turning so you were facing him.

“hi.” you softly spoke, lifting a hand to cup his face as he hovered above you. matt’s eyes kept flicker to your lips, wanting to get lost in the taste of you.

his eyes flickered up to yours and searched them desperately, “need you so bad.” he whispered before placing his lips on yours, starting the first of many kisses you two would share.

the kiss started slow and sweet, but as the two of you got lost in the feeling it became hungry and desperate. matt slowly shuffled you to your back, before his tongue swiped your bottom lip, begging to enter your mouth.

you parted your lips and your tongues meet in a frantic need of lust, your fingers tugging at the hair at the bottom of his head. he let out a soft moan, and your breath hitched. you needed to hear that again.

you wrapped your legs around his slim waist and tugged him into you, enticing another groan as his member thrust against your center. you separated your lips, to place kisses down his neck before you tugged on his shirt, signaling you wanted it off.

he quickly lifted it off, and you instantly began tracing his chest, biting down on your bottom lip and looking up at him when you softly grazed his happy trail. he sucked in a deep breath, watching the way your hands explored his body in fascination. he quickly snapped out of his trance and began to take your tank top off, but stopped and silently asked you if this was okay. you nodded with a grin on your face, admiring how sweet he was.

you couldn’t help it when your hands subconsciously traveled to his arm, specifically the one scattered with tattoos. your eyes followed your hand as it traced over the ink, grinning when goosebumps formed in your wake.

he finally slipped the article of clothing over your head, and your cheeks flushed as his jaw dropped, taking in the sight of you topless.

“oh my god.” matt whispered, before he immediately brought both of his hands to your breasts, cupping them both and squeezing slightly. you moaned at the feeling, your head falling back against the pillows. matt leaned down and started to place kisses along your neck, biting your sensitive skin slightly as he got to your collarbone. he began to pinch and rub your nipples, making you squirm as the pleasure took full control of your body.

“matt.” you whined, lifting your hands to his wrists as your back arched. his kisses kept traveling further down, before his lips wrapped around your left nipple and he began to softly suck. you gasped, your hand flying to the back of his head and pushing him closer to you, making him moan into your chest in approval.

“fuck.” you dreamily sighed, beginning to roll your hips upwards. you could feel matt’s hard member pressing against you and it was driving you crazy. matt moved onto your other breast, giving it the same treatment. quickly you begin to paw at his pants, wanting them off.

matt reluctantly pulled away from your chest, a string of saliva connecting from his mouth to your nipple. you bit your lip to stop the moan that wanted to escape, you didn’t even know where his brothers are.

matt seemed to be hearing your exact thoughts as he brought a thumb to your lips, releasing it from your teeth.

“nick is editing and chris went back to bed.” he huskily whispered to you, making you nod.

you still needed to be quiet but it wasn’t so bad if you let it slip every now and then. matt stood from the bed leaving you confused, but he just smirked down at you while he began to take his pants off.

you bit your lip in anticipation, dying to see him fully for the first time. you quickly slid off your shorts, leaving you in a pair of black panties. you wished you had something sexier, but you weren’t expecting this to happen.

matt rejoined you on the bed in only his boxers, leaning down and kissing you passionately. you eagerly respond, leaning up to apply more pressure. you swiftly move your legs, flipping the two of you so matt was now laying on his back. you place soft kisses down his neck, letting your hands trace his chest until you shuffle down, your face level with his groin.

you toy with the band of his boxers, “can i take this off?” you ask sweetly, your eyes lighting up as matt had to take in a deep breath before replying.

“please.”

you slowly hook your fingers underneath the band, letting your hands feel the soft skin of his hips. you slightly scratch the skin with your nails, loving the way his stomach tensed underneath your fingertips. matt lightly thrusts his hips, glaring down at you.

“stop teasing.” he demands, and you couldn’t help but whine at his tone of voice. you quickly pull his boxers down, letting him kick them off before you resume your position between his legs.

his hard dick was standing tall, with a thick vein begging to be licked on the underside. you stick out your tongue and run it underneath his dick, before you take his head into your mouth and softly suck, while licking his slit. he hisses at the feeling, throwing his head back briefly before he’s looking down at you again.

he gathers your hair into a pony tail, “been dreaming ‘bout this…” he trails off with a moan as you take him further into your throat. holding eye contact as your nose presses against his skin, holding yourself there until tears spill from your eyes.

you slowly pull back, “holy shit.” matt muttered, dragging your head forward to take his shaft down your throat again. you moan around his dick when he started thrusting, repeatedly hitting the back of your throat.

“such a good girl for me.” matt whined out, his arm flexing as he guided your head. you couldn’t help but whimper upon seeing the way his veins flexed on his tattooed arm. your thighs clenched together, attempting to relieve some of the pressure that had built since this morning. his stomach began to constrict, approaching his peak way quicker than he wanted too.

he hurriedly pulled your head away from him, groaning as the cold air hit his sensitive prick, helping you to straddle his waist.

“gonna be my good girl and ride me, baby?” he whispered, looking up at you. he quickly pulled off your panties and ran a finger through your slit. you rocked your hips into his hand, lewd moans escaping your mouth as he slipped a finger into your heat.

“matt.” you gasped, reaching to hold onto his broad shoulders as he slipped a second finger inside of you, stretching you for his dick.

“doin’ so well for me.” he praised you, making you clench around his fingers. “ah so you like being my good girl?” he teased you, making you bite your lip to suppress a smile as you nodded.

matt slipped his fingers out of you, grabbing your hips to help you hover over his dick.

“you really want this?” he asks you, making you nod rapidly, “words.”

you whimper, “yes i want this matt. so bad.”

matt accepts the answer and lines his tip up with your entrance, holding eye contact as he slowly lowers you. your mouth drops in a silent moan at the delicious stretch, sighing in content as matt finally bottomed out, letting you adjust before gently pushing and pulling your hips.

“you feel so good around me.” matt pants, doing his best to not thrust up into you yet.

you groan at his words, finally lifting yourself and slamming back down onto him. you quickly find a steady pace, your eyes falling shut. matt doesn’t like this, as he removes one hand from your hip to gently grip your throat.

“i wanna see how good i make you feel, open them pretty eyes princess.” he demands, and you swear you almost came on the spot.

“‘m sorry,” you whine, “feels so good.” your pace quickens, feeling your orgasam building. matt takes notice and before you know it, he had flipped you underneath him. you whine at the loss of his dick buried inside of you, but before you could say anything he was pounding into you like no tomorrow.

his silver horse necklace was hanging in between the two of you, driving you crazy as he looked down at you. he gripped one hand on his headboard to stabilize himself, the other trailing down to your boob and cupping it roughly.

the stimulation was almost too much, “matt ‘m gonna cum.” you whimpered, clenching down on him again.

“fuck, me too,” he admitted, leaning down to place a brief kiss to your swollen lips. your glossy eyes traveled down to where you two were connected. your jaw drops as you can see an imprint of matt’s dick as he’s quickly thrusting, making matt look down.

“fuck.” hr groans, removing his hand from your boob as he presses down on your lower stomach. your back arches, feeling even more full as you clench on him as you come.

“matt!” you practically scream, digging your nails into his back, triggering matt’s release. he’s a whimpering mess above you, slowly fucking his cum into you, finally halting his movements when you’ve both come down from your highs.

“did so good for me.” he gently whispers, as he collapses on top of you. you grin to yourself, bringing a hand to his hair and begin to rub your fingernails against his scalp, knowing how much he loves it.

the two of you lay in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, before he’s gently pulling out of you and standing from the bed. he quickly slips on his boxers and peaks his head out of his door, before slipping out and shutting the door behind him.

he comes back seconds later, with a damp rag, approaching you still laying on the bed.

“you’ll thank me later.” he quickly cleaned you up, rubbing your thigh lovingly as he did so. once he got rid of the wash cloth he helped you slip on his t-shirt before the two of you cuddled up together.

“i hate to be that bitch, but where does this leave us?” you timidly ask as you grab onto matt’s hand.

matt pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, “i kinda figured we were dating, i mean we are in love with each other.” he laughed softly, making you turn slightly to meet his gaze.

“i’m fine with that.” you shrugged, grinning up at him.

“good,” he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, “‘cause that would’ve been awkward.”

you open your mouth to reply but get cut off by soft knocks to matt’s bedroom door.

“are you guys done? the video is done and i need matt’s approval.” nick asked through the door, before his footsteps could be heard as he walked away.

you and matt immediately looked to each other in horror.

“guess i should’ve been more quiet.”

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo #youtube #writers on tumblr

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brilium · 10 months

Text

ˋ°•-⁀➷ Tattoo Artist! Eren Headcanons♡

THIS HAS BEEN ON MY MIND FOR SO LONGGGGG. I wasn't planning to add smut but the things somehow turned out like that hehe

Content warning. fem reader, mention of needles, short smut at the end, praising, watercolor tattoos are beautiful but Eren hates them, I'm sorry.

wc. 1,026.

♡ Tattoo Artist! Eren started doing it as a hobby just to do something in his free time during his freshman year but ended up loving it and being his principal source of money currently.

● When Tattoo Artist! Eren was still learning, he asked Mikasa and Armin if they'd let him tattoo them for practice. Armin instantly said no because he would have to stop attending swimming classes for a month and Mikasa said that she'd only say yes if he let her tattoo his neck in exchange. From that moment, Eren looked for more friends that would say yes and never asked them again for his own safety.

♡ Tattoo Artist! Eren's first person to tattoo was Reiner, he was all excited to get tattooed by his friend and even offered to let him keep tattooing him in the future. Even if Eren hid it, he was actually so moved that his friend trusted in him that much.

●Tattoo Artist! Eren social media is 100% tattoo. You want to know his face? Make an appointment for a tattoo though his IG and meet him in real life because he doesn't have any other social media.

♡ Tattoo Artist! Eren loves to do black work but hates the watercolor style. Ironically, because he thinks that is too off.

●Tattoo Artist! Eren is not a fuckboy but has a… very active sexual life. There's even a small box of condoms in a drawer on his station, just in case.

♡ Tattoo Artist! Eren is not full body tattooed but at least his right arm is fully covered with tattoos. There's some on his left hand and forearm, chest and a small "C" because of his mother's name behind his ear. Carla supports his passion for his job but sighs every time he comes to visit her with more ink on his body; still, she excuses that one just because she loves him and is so proud.

●Tattoo Artist! Eren loves his friends, even if they are a pain the ass as coworkers. He owns a small studio with Jean, Connie and Sasha, that damn trio… Also! They decided to call the studio Squad 104 just because that was the class number where they and their other friends met at uni. Even though it was too cheesy, Eren agreed it with a smile.

♡ Even though, Tattoo Artist! Eren hates Jean's lack of organization, causing him or the others to have to take the clients that he frequently schedules on the same day as others. He sighs when Jean knocks at his door, asking him to take a client tomorrow because he already had plans at that time.

● His jaw drops once you cross the principal door of the studio the next day asking for Yeager Ink. Tattoo Artist! Eren is not a believer, but he's starting to think that he got blessed by taking that medium flower design. The best part? Is not a damn watercolor tattoo.

♡ Ass man? Tits man? Fuck, no. Tattoo Artist! Eren turns into a loyal thighs man the second you lie on his massage bed to the side and lift your skirt to point that you want the tattoo on the side part of your thigh. He loves the way you nod blushed when he asks if it's your first tattoo.

●Tattoo Artist! Eren sighs feeling like this is going to be a long session from the moment when he puts on the stencil guide for the tattoo and notices that you chose a thin black lingerie; As a tattoo artist, he thanks you for choosing the right clothes to make it easier for both, but the hard pain starting to grow on his jeans is really suffering right now.

♡Tattoo Artist! Eren glups hard once he starts and you can't help but squirm and whimper of pain. It's one of the least painful parts and you're already whining? That's the fucking cutest thing in the world. He tries to distract you by making small talk, knowing about your interests, your degree, age, the fact that you're single…

●Tattoo Artist! Eren starts to flirt subtly with you trying to see if you are comfortable; teasing you for being so sensitive to the pain, caressing softly your thigh when he cleans you with the wipe, complimenting your soft skin, telling you about which places you barely feel the pain for some future tattoos…

♡Tattoo Artist! Eren is trying so hard to hold himself when you dig your nails on his arm the moment he's on the black filling and shadows. You're blushing and nervous when he's wrapping your leg with the plastic protection while you apologize for hurting him, he can't help but smile and lean closer to you and thank you for being such a good strong girl the whole session.

●Tattoo Artist! Eren tries to be as gentle as possible with you, fucking you from behind, standing against the wall to not hurt the fresh tattoo on your leg with the massage bed. "Yeah, keep it like that, gorgeous. The needle on your skin was nothing, you can hold my dick in this sweet cunt, baby"

♡Tattoo Artist! Eren notices the weakness on your legs, so he turns you to face him and grabs you under the thighs to lift you and push you against the wall with every thrust. Your moans begging him to not stop are the sweetest sound he heard in his whole life.

●Tattoo Artist! Eren's station smells like sex after you both reach the orgasm, he gently seats you on the bed while he cleans the mess. Your gaze on his strong tattooed arms moving around almost makes you jump into him for a next round but your legs are sore for many reasons…

♡Tattoo Artist! Eren is a professional. He always seeks for the safety of his clients, so don't be surprised to receive a message from him to meet again "to check if the tattoo is healing correctly". He smiles widely when you immediately answer saying yes and asking if he's up for another session as soon as possible…

Should I make a part two? 👀

#eren x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren jeager smut #eren x you #eren smut #eren aot #eren yeager #eren x y/n #eren yaeger x reader #eren yaeger smut #eren yaeger x you #eren headcanons #aot smut #snk smut #snk x reader

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moonstruckme · 6 months

Note

hiiii ! im not sure if you take requests but i would LOVE just a small sirius x coquette reader blurb!!! nothing specific just anything!

i just think they would be so opposites and it would be so so cute <3

Hi gorgeous, I do! Thanks for requesting <3

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 810 words

“I feel like I’m smelling smoke,” you say, and Sirius hastily lets the strand of hair fall from the curling wand.

“You’re delusional,” he replies when it doesn’t look totally charred. “I’m a pro at this, sweetheart.”

You hum dubiously. “Well, I appreciate your help. I can never reach the ones in the back, they always end up looking wonky.”

“Yeah, you owe me big,” Sirius lets his voice stretch long and reluctant, as if you don't both know how much he loves getting to play with your hair. “Gonna do a ribbon today?”

“Sure.” You lean forward to apply your lipstick in the mirror.

“Which one?”

“You can pick, Siri.”

He deliberates for a moment, taking the opportunity to let his eyes skim over you under the guise of assessing your outfit, before holding a pink one up in the mirror for your approval. You nod happily, and Sirius begins gathering your hair in his hands.

“Hold still a minute, pretty thing.” He makes sure there’s a couple of ringlets loose in the front like you like them and pins the ribbon in place.

“Is it straight?” you ask, twisting your lipstick shut and capping it.

“Dollface, you wound me.”

“Fine, I’ll trust you.” You roll your eyes with a smile. “Ready to go, love?”

“Actually, let me get ready really quickly.” Sirius peers into the mirror with great concentration and shoves his hands into his hair, shaking it out at the roots until it looks as messy as possible. “Okay, ready.”

“Hilarious.”

“You’re just jealous,” he says, “that my routine is so much easier than yours.”

“Siri, I’ve seen you spend hours cutting the sleeves off of all your t-shirts.” You give him a teasing look, slipping your feet, clad in frilly socks, into your Mary Jane’s while Sirius tugs on his combat boots. “Don’t act like you’re so low-maintenance.”

“You wish you had tattoos this sick to show off.” Sirius feels sort of like a big dog you’ve got on a leash, the way you stroll towards the front door with him on your heels.

“Not really, no. That’s your thing, not mine.”

“Someday,” he says wistfully, following you out the door and shutting it behind him. “Someday I’m going to get you into a tattoo shop, and you’re going to come out looking so punk rock no one will even recognize you.”

You give him a deadpan look, though the effect is made somewhat less intimidating by your sweet face and cutesy outfit. “Sure, love.” Sirius grins at you, straddling his bike and slipping on his helmet. You hesitate. “Can we walk? It’s not far, and I don’t want the wind to mess up my hair.”

“Oh.” A tiny pang of disappointment goes through Sirius, but he understands. Hair is always the priority. “Sure.”

“Actually, wait just a second.” You lean in close to his face, frowning, and Sirius’ eyebrows inch upwards before he realizes you’re using the reflective visor of his helmet to see yourself. You purse your lips.

“I forgot to blot,” you say quietly, almost to yourself. You bring a finger to your mouth, tapping at your bottom lip to remove the excess lipstick. Sirius watches the motion with unchecked awe, your pretty pink lips supple and oscillating under your touch.

“Siri, baby, can I have your hand?”

He gives it to you without hesitation, and you raise it to your lips, stamping pink lipstick onto the backside of his palm. You press your lips together one final time before smiling, satisfied. “Okay, you can take the helmet off now.”

Sirius does, almost in a trance, looking down at the mark you’ve left on his hand. It’s perfectly pressed, the pink a funny-looking contrast against his dark painted nails and the silver rings that adorn his knuckles.

“C’mere, sweet thing,” he says. You look a bit perplexed, but step closer to where he’s still straddling his bike, the dainty floral pattern of your tights brushing his dark jeans. He takes your face in both hands. “You’re so lovely, you know that?”

You’re well used to Sirius’ flirting, but the sincerity in his voice has a pretty blush rising to the apples of your cheeks. The pinkness of it matches nicely, the thinks, with your lipstick and the ribbon in your hair. Sirius pulls you towards him, smushing his lips to yours.

You make a startled sound of protest. “Sirius!” you pull away, raising a hand to hover by your lips. “You’re going to mess it up!”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, but you’re already picking up his helmet from where he’d set it on the seat, checking your reflection. “It’s more punk rock that way.”

“I told you.” You swipe at a smudged spot of pink at the corner of your lips, giving him a dazzling smile. “That’s your thing, not mine.”

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msgexymunson · 2 years

Text

Kickstart My Heart

Eddie x Fem!Reader

Description: Eddie's taken aback when someone makes a bigger scene in the cafeteria than him. Maybe he's finally met his match?

Warnings: Mostly fluff, smidge of angst, very very slight smut (making out/slight grinding) mentions of drug use, use of y/n twice (I try to avoid it if at all poss) use of pet names (princess/sweetheart etc) Reader has curly hair and a back tattoo and I'm totally projecting I'm fully aware.

A/N: Honestly I keep seeing Eddie with cheerleaders and I respectfully disagree. I wanted him to meet someone with similar interests and also wanted to see how he could deal with someone being a bit of a dom as well. I'm not 100% on this but it's been sitting in my notes forever. I'm thinking this would be a good mini series so let me know in the comments/reblogs if you like it enough for that! Edit, Part 2 now out!

5.2k words

Masterlist Part 2 Here

Eddie lounges on the bench in the cafeteria, his legs draped either side, tapping a tattoo on the floor with his feet. He was laying back, magazine in hand, reading out choice paragraphs to his followers, the Hellfire club. And anyone else who might be listening. "....see, they don't even realise how much of a joke they actually are!" Eddie flourishes the magazine and starts rolling it into a tube, mock conducting with his hands, pointing at the more popular kids in the hall.

The boys at the table nod make agreeable noises, knowing it's easier to just let Eddie continue when he's like this; but then something catches Dustin's eye.

"See? I told you Mike, she does go here." Hitting him on the arm.

"Where? Where?"

"Right there, walking in, that's the girl." Dustin stares at the doorway, transfixed.

Eddie laughs, still laying there.

"Don't tell me your losing your mind over a girl Henderson."

"I heard she just got out of Juvie. She showed up in my science class and threw a drink over Jimmy Clayton." Gareth pipes up, following Dustin's gaze.

"I saw her at the arcade wrecking it on Galactic Warriors."

"You should talk to her Dustin!" Mike laughed.

"Screw that, she's a senior and she's scary dude."

Eddie, now annoyed at the lack of attention, jumps up onto the seat, standing on it, knocking the gang out of their spell. "Hey sheep, this is reality calling!" He shouts to them in a sing song voice, bonking Dustin on the head with the magazine, then turns and looks around the room trying to find who they are talking about.

He doesn't have to wait long. A commotion starts two tables away, and the prettiest girl Eddie has ever seen is facing off with Jason Carver.

Long, messy curls adorn her head, wearing a faded Anthrax t shirt tied at the waist, nipping it in, and tight jeans, a wry smile on her lips.

"Get out of my face, freak!" Jason sneers at her.

"You just tried to grope me, now you don't like me sweetheart?" She shouts sarcastically back at him. She leans forward then sticks her middle finger up right in Jason's face.

Eddie has frozen, standing on his seat, mouth slightly open, magazine hanging from his hand, forgotten.

The girl starts to back away. As soon as she turns her back Jason mutters loudly, "as if anyone wants to touch you slut."

Eddie's about to jump off the chair, a fire lit in his stomach. But before that can happen, the girl spins around, and in one smooth, almost dance like motion, pulls her sneaker off her foot and throws it straight into Jason's face. Jason looks furious, his face bright red. The girl smiles, takes a bow, and just leaves the hall. Without her shoe.

Eddie is in love, he's sure of it. It's a peculiar, foreign feeling. He's warm all over. A flush begins to creep up his neck. A flutter in his stomach, mouth dry, head fuzzy. He watches those curls bounce off until the door shuts.

"Eddie! Earth to Eddie!"

He shakes his head to get a grip on reality, and realises oh yeah, I'm Eddie.

"What?" He jumps down to the floor, trying to act nonchalant.

"What was that about losing my mind over a girl?" Dustin grins at him.

Eddie's composure breaks for a second, then smiles back, with that signature Eddie grin. "That, my friend, is not a girl, that is a force of nature."

A shriek distracts him for a second. Someone had grabbed the sneaker and flung it at their friend, sending a drink flying. Another student grabs it with a look of disdain and flings it over their shoulder. Eddie watches it land on the floor a few feet away.

A smile parades across his face. He flings the magazine at Dustin and bounds over and grabs the shoe, then races back and grabs his battered metal lunch box in the other hand.

Dustin groans. "Oh shit Eddie, no, no!"

Eddie grins and winks at Dustin with a glint in his eye.

"Eddie, come on, you cant go after her." Mike rolls his eyes.

"And why not?"

"Because! Because she's basically you!"

"Mike's right, the universe might implode. Or you'll end up in prison." Dustin says, knowing its hopeless.

Eddie laughs. "Well now I gotta find out." He spreads his arms wide, sneaker in one hand, box in the other. "I bid you adieu," and leans into a low bow, turning to leave the room.

After a few minutes of searching and feeling embarrassed, Eddie's annoyed. No one should take up this much space inside his head so fast. You had captivated him and it was a wholly new experience. He'd had crushes on girls before, fleeting things, but this was different. He felt a burning in his chest that he'd never felt before. He decides the best thing to do is to get some air, have a smoke and chill out. There wasn't much left of lunch break after all.

He starts to walk over to his usual spot in the woods, inspecting the shoe in his hand in the process, turning it over and over. It's small, even for a girls sneaker, and about as dirty as his own. There's marks on the white leather, and scribbles and drawings on it in ballpoint pen. He sees 'Iron Maiden' in spiky letters across the side and his heart leaps. Oh come on, get it together Munson, you getting all excited over a shoe?

*******************

What a grade A prick you think to yourself as you lay on the picnic table in the woods that another senior told you about, smoking a cigarette.

You were seriously thinking this is a bad idea, coming back to Hawkins. You hadn't been here since Middle School and the crowds hadn't exactly improved. First that pervert in Chemistry tried to put his arm around you, now some basketball playing entitled dick gropes you in the lunch line.

You try to lay still and calm down, but your fingers were pulling at the hole on the thigh of your jeans, unravelling it more, your leg restlessly shaking.

Eddie approaches the clearing cautiously, surprised to see someone on the table. Then his heart swells. It's her. She's laying on the table, curls spilling over the edge, one knee up and legs slightly apart, one socked foot dangling off the table. She looks so peaceful, and slightly vulnerable. Eddie suddenly feels a twitch in his pants, really Munson?

"You lose something?"

You look up, slightly startled, to this very pretty boy with messy brown hair, standing there grinning sheepishly, waving your shoe in the air.

"Only my mind." You say back, sitting up.

"Oh, is this isn't yours?" He smirks at you, a glint in his eye. His very familiar eyes. You take in his figure. Leather jacket, band t shirt and black jeans. He's lean, and tall, and handsome.

"Now that, that I didn't lose. I ejected it. With force."

He laughs loudly at that and moves towards you, holding the shoe out. You reach for it and he pulls it away, a cheeky smile on his face.

"So you want your homemade missile back or...?"

In response you stick your socked foot out to him. He seems surprised at this small but bold movement. He puts down the lunchbox he's holding and undoes the knotted laces, then slides the sneaker onto your foot.

"What do you know, it fits!" You giggle at him which makes his face light up.

"So what's your name?" He says tying your laces.

"Cinder-fucking-rella."

He grins at you, still holding your foot. You take a last drag of your cigarette and look him in the eye. There's a moment when you both look at each other, a heat in the air.

"Gonna need that back." You motion to your foot. He lets go and puts his hands up in mock submission, smug smile on his face. You jump off the table and start to make your way back to school.

"Hey- wait!"

"See you around Prince Charming." You say over your shoulder.

"See you princess." Is his quiet response.

Eddie's standing there, for the second time today, staring at your curls bounce, watching you leave.

*******************

Oh my God its Eddie Munson. You think to yourself, grinning now your back is turned, a flush creeping up your cheeks. You cannot believe it. He was the year above in Middle School and you crushed on him, hard. You nearly didn't recognise him with long hair but he smiled at you and it clicked and you nearly melted right then and there. God, since you'd been held back a year after the chaos that is your life you were sure you'd never see him again, at least at school. He must have been held back two years.

Eddie Munson. He looked good. Real good. And you just left. But he had looked so smug and sure of himself and you never like to do what people expect. Practically skipping to class, you kept saying his name in your head. Eddie Munson. You grin to yourself. Maybe this year wont be so bad.

*******************

"Late again Mr Munson?"

"Only so we can have these chats Mrs O'Donnell"

"Thin ice young man. Take a seat."

Eddie flops down in his chair, and leans back. Its last period, and his concentration is elsewhere. Chin resting in his hand, he thinks about the brief encounter with, well, with her yesterday. Whatever her name is. The princess. He smiles to himself. Not many people can surprise him. Why did she just run off though? He thought their chat was going well.

Halfway through the lesson, he feels something on the back of his head. Then again. Turning round, he sees her. Smirk on her face, balling up a strip of paper. He grins, then runs his hand through his hair, sending an avalanche of little white balls to the floor like snowflakes. She laughs silently, banging her hand against her mouth to be quiet, and looks at him with glee. Eddie's heart is about to burst, looking at her joyful face. Lost in her eyes for a second, he remembers his 'thin ice' and whips his head back round to the front. Coast is clear.

She taps him on the back, he glances round and she waves a folded piece of paper. He looks back to the front but holds his hand out behind him to take it. She presses the note into his palm with warm fingers.

Taking the note, he unfurls it with deft movements:

Meet me after class Mr Munson.

He composes himself for a moment, his stomach somersaulting, a wide smile just itching to spread across his face. So, was he right, did she like him? He turns his head briefly to flash her a lopsided grin and a nod.

The bell rings. There was the general scuffle, chair screeches and chatter that a accompanies the end of a lesson. Eddie leapt up and nearly ran to the door, hearing a soft giggle behind him.

*******************

Look at him, he's practically skipping you laugh to yourself. Seems a shame to mess with him. You were going to mess with him though. Only a little. It's not every day your childhood crush seems to like you back.

"Hey princess." Giving you a goofy grin. "Hey" you beam back, tilting your head to one side. "Can we go to the bench, I need to ask you something."

"Er sure?" He looks happy, but confused, searching your face for answers. You whip your head around and start walking briskly. He hops to try and keep up with you. I could get used to this, Eddie Munson trailing behind me.

He catches up, and you have a chat about music, passing the time. Turns out you have pretty similar taste. He points out your Anthrax t shirt from yesterday and you talk about Iron Maiden, Ozzie, Dio, Metallica. He waves his arms in the air and bounces, so excitable, like a child. You make it to the bench and you take a seat, hands steepled in front of you, pulling a serious face.

He hops down and sits opposite, head cocked to one side, giving you his full attention. God he's handsome. That hair falling around his face, those full lips, those eyes that seem to stare into your soul and beyond. Even his neck is attractive. You realise you are staring, a cough clearing your throat.

"I hear good things about you Munson."

"Well you cant be talking to most of Hawkins then, I'm a Satan worshipping weirdo!" He opens his mouth wide, sticks out his tongue and wrinkles his nose up at you. Look at that tongue.

You stare at him in mock horror, your hand flying to your mouth.

"Really, do you sacrifice virgins?"

"I would if I could find one." He winks at you.

You laugh then, so hard you snort a little, then your cheeks blush pink. Eddie revels in the slight drop in your guard.

"Wow princess, that was really something." He smirks at you.

"Damnit Munson, stop with the 'princess!'"

"Well what am I supposed to call you, you wont tell me your name sweetheart."

Something about the way he called you sweetheart stirred something between your legs. You rubbed your thighs together briefly. It was a great feeling, but it also annoyed you a little. You hated being out of control, and you felt a flash of, wait was that fear? He'd caught you off guard. You were supposed to be catching him off guard. You smile at him lazily.

"Well maybe you need to earn it." You winked at him.

"Ah I see how it is. Hmmm. Well, what did you want from me then, dragging me into the woods."

You reach over and grab his hand, lean closer. The warmth of his hand contrasts with the cool feel of his rings brushing your palm. "I hear you can help a girl out." You say to him breathily.

Eddie's eyebrows raise so high that they disappear into his hair and a flush appears on his cheeks. You smirk at him.

"Word is your the school's supplier. Or am I wrong?" You bat your eyelashes at him.

He nods in understanding and for a second, looks a little deflated. "Well you ain't wrong sweetheart." He grabs his metal lunchbox and plants it on the table, giving you the sell.

You agree to half an ounce, and you are sure he gives you more than that, not that you are complaining. He holds it out and you go to grab it, but he snatches it away at the last minute, grinning at you.

"Come on Munson!" You say to him, mock pouting.

"It comes at a price."

"Oh yeah? I just gave that to you!"

"Something else. I gotta know your name." His eyes near bore into your soul.

"I told you. Cinderella."

"Very funny princess. I tell you what, we can make a deal. You come to the Hideout tomorrow night, and listen to my band. Then we can forget the name. For now."

Smooth Munson.

"Maybe I will then."

"Ah ah ah princess, you gotta. Comes with the deal you see. You need to promise."

"Fine. Cross my heart. I'll come see your band."

His grin damn near splits his face apart. "I promise you sweetheart, with your discerning taste? You're gonna love it."

*******************

Eddie gets ready for the gig tonight, backstage, standing in the mirror. Maybe he spends a little extra time on his hair. So what? He's playing a gig. Nothing at all to with her. He wondered who he was trying to kid. He hadn't been able to stop thinking of her. His mind just kept wandering. She was gorgeous and feisty and everything he could ever want. It takes a lot for him to focus on the moment. He steps out, guitar in hand, and takes a deep breath. Starts playing, and searching the very small audience. She's not here.

First song of the set down, then the second. Eddie's starting to give up, glancing at the door, when a familiar head of curls bounces through. She's here. She's just late. Eddie laughed to himself. Like Mike said, it was very Eddie of her. She sauntered over to the bar and got the attention of the server immediately, tossing her head back and smiling. Eddie felt a hotness creep into his chest, almost as if he was jealous. It was only after ordering a drink she hopped onto a bar stool, turned and looked at him, legs seductively crossed. She's fucking beautiful. Her hair seemed neater, she had clearly styled it somehow, but the curls still fell around her face. Her dress was figure hugging and black, a zip running right down the front. Her curves took his breath away. Eddie couldn't help but wonder if the whole dress came undone if you pulled that zip. He nearly faltered in his playing thinking about it. Another song down and then another, then one of the waitresses came over to him, beer in hand.

"A beer from Cinderella?" She said, pointing at her. Eddie laughed, of course she would send a drink over. Shit, do I like her because she's like me? His band finish the set, and he downs half the beer. Taking a deep breath, he moves his way into the audience.

*******************

Ok he's coming over, act natural. You try to look like you are looking the other way, then start to inspect your fingernails. Eddie stands in front of you, and you look up into those deep brown eyes of his. It takes your breath away.

"Why if it isn't Van Halen, I'm you're biggest fan" you say breathily, a smirk on your face. I'm not done playing with you yet Munson.

Eddie smirks at you, "looks like you decided to turn up after all princess."

"Well, you know, I kinda promised this guy."

"This guy must be impressive if you're coming here to this dive just to see him."

"What can I say, he's got a bit of an ego but he looks damn sexy when he plays the guitar."

Eddie nearly falters, seeing you bat your eyelashes at him. He looks so cute when he's not so sure of himself. Then he takes a different tact, pointing at the beer in your hand "aren't you a minor sweetheart?"

"Aren't you Munson?"

"Well, they don't know that " another Eddie wink.

"Don't know about me either. I told the bartender I'm 35."

Eddie laughs at this, for once feeling out of his depth.

"What are you, 17, 18?'

"Try 19 Munson." He looks at you quizzically. "Yes it's not just you that's been held back."

"How do you know about that?" Shit nearly gave it away.

"Everyone knows, you're famous Eddie."

"So, you gonna actually tell me how you know that, and how you know my full name sweetheart?"

You scrunch your face a little, realising you never said his first name before. Got a little too carried away with the game you had been playing. Shouldn't have called him Van Halen either. Seems like the right time to confess. Well, here goes nothing. You take a deep breath, your heart in your throat.

"I know you Eddie Munson. I went to middle school with you. You were in the year above. My names y/n l/n."

Eddie's eyes widen. He looks at you, really looks at you. Then the words you never thought you would hear come out of his mouth.

"Shit, y/n, I remember you. You were always running around with those nerds, you wore glasses all the time. I remember you getting pulled from school!"

"And how the fuck would you remember that?" You said, feeling uncomfortable.

"Well, I remember, I remember the talent show. When you sang in front of the whole school. Hotel California. I never expected it, no one did. You were really good."

You blush a deep crimson, annoyed at your vulnerability. Eddie doesn't seem to notice, just looking over your shoulder, remembering.

"Shit I remember hearing you sing, then having to go on with my band near straight after, feeling like we weren't gonna be shit compared to that."

You blush red to the roots of your hair. "Well, your bands really good, really good Munson.. I was just, you know, karaoke singing..."

"No, honest, I thought you were amazing." He grins at you, fingers tapping on the bar next to you. That Eddie grin makes you want to melt into a puddle. Weren't you supposed to be teasing him?

You stare into those eyes. Those big, beautiful brown eyes and realise something. Maybe you had been wrong about Eddie. You strip that bravado back, that fake confidence, and he is just a kid. An overexcited, vulnerable, kid. Just like you.

He's looking at you, staring at you with those eyes of his, and you need to do something before you are his, right here and right now. You turn to the bar and wave at the bar tender. "Two tequilas, please." As you flash a comfortable smile. The bartender catches your gaze and pours out two shots, smiling at you and raising his eyebrows at Eddie. You take your shot in hand, staring at Eddie, and down the shot. You swallow with barely a flinch, waiting to see his reaction.

"You're gonna be the death of me sweetheart." He grins, then takes his shot the same way.

"You wanna get out of here?"

**************************************

I'm the luckiest guy in the world. Eddie gazes at you, your cheeks flushed, laying on his couch, your feet resting on his lap. Listening to the metal music Eddie had put on, curled up on the couch. You had been joking and chatting for an hour or so and he just felt so comfortable around you. You seemed to have the same sense of humor as him, laughing at all his jokes. It seemed a far cry from the way you had reacted to him before, building walls up. He thought it was nice to see you as you, without defences.

"So, you want a beer, or you ready to sing for me."

"Not on your damned life Munson, though I'll take that beer."

Eddie laughs and gets up, lifting your feet softly to one side, and grabs two beers, opening them by the fridge.

"So, why wouldn't you tell me your name before." Eddie asks, his head to one side, intrigued.

'Because Munson, it was fun messing with you." You smirk back at Eddie, but there's a blush to your cheeks that makes him think you weren't being honest with him.

You continue, "a lot of people know things, or think they know why I left. I just didn't want you to judge me before you knew me."

"As a victim of judgement I can safely say I know what you mean." Eddie brings his hands up, indicating to himself. He hands you a beer which you place on the table, and he does the same. He sits next to you, close, head turned towards you.

Damn she's intoxicating. Eddie coughs, and looks into your eyes. You smile back at him, his eyes drawn to your lips.

Come on Munson, kiss me already.

You both sit, mulling in this hot silence, looking at each other, flushed cheeks and beating hearts. It's almost a stand off, each waiting for the other to make a move. You lick your lips and try and build up that confidence that you had before. Reaching out, you hold your hand to his jaw line, gently rubbing your thumb down it, coming to rest on his chin. He moves forward, expectantly, and you take that as a sign. You lean towards him, your breath on his lips, as your hand snakes into his hair. Your noses touch, the tip of your nose rubbing just to the side of his, as your lips ever so lightly graze, sending shivers of sensation through you. His mouth opens slightly, and you both press your lips to the other, tongues touching, softly, hesitantly. Your mouths open more, tongues reaching out, exploring each others mouths leisurely, deeply. His hands reach out to hold you at the hips, pulling you closer. You pull at his hair slightly and he moans into you. You break apart, both panting slightly, and stare into each others eyes. You see those soulful dark eyes pouring out feeling to you, and you know that he has stolen your heart forever.

Eddie breaks the silence. He grins and chuckles at you, "Now that was intense."

You're breathless, wordless for once, biting your lip. "Eddie..." you manage and he smirks at you. You press your lips to his again hungrily, urgently. His hands grip your hips, and you crawl into his lap, swinging one leg over so you're straddling him. His hands massage into you, and both of your hands end up in his hair, tugging at it. You are both kissing almost violently, and you break away so you can breathe. You rock your hips forward, feeling how hard he was getting through his jeans. He takes a sharp breath at that, his hands moving lower to grab your ass, grinding you into him again. You moan low into your throat, throwing your head back.

"Jesus princess you're so fucking hot." He manages to say, his voice so low and rough its almost a growl.

You lean forward again, pulling him into another fervent kiss, tongues clashing, hips bucking. He groans and bites your lip. Grabbing you by the hips he suddenly stands up and you throw your arms around his neck for balance, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carries you to his bedroom, never stopping the urgent flow of hot kisses.

He throws you on the bed and climbs on top of you, then seems to remember himself. "Sorry, you just.. you do things to me."

"You drive me wild Eddie Munson" you grin back at him. "But maybe we should, you know, take it easy. I like you, I really like you, but I mean, you barely know me."

"Not true, I know you from middle school, remember? That's years." He winks at you, then flops down next to you, on his side "Seriously though, whatever you want. We don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

You could have cried at that. His face turned to you, that look of concern on his face, his brows slightly furrowed, it melted your heart. You hold a hand to his cheek.

"I'm not saying I don't want to, you know. I'm just saying not yet. I do want to, I just, want to take my time with you Mr Munson."

He grinned at you, stroking your side.

"I've wanted you since your shoe connected with Jason's face."

You laughed out loud at that, he smiled at you, enjoying how much he could make you laugh. He pulled you in for another kiss, less urgent but still passionate, long and deep, like you had all the time in the world. The rest of the universe melted away, it was just you and him, wrapped in each others arms.

"Can I stay? Is that OK?" You stare in his eyes.

"Princess you're not going anywhere as long as I can help it."

"I meant for tonight, like sleep here." You poke him playfully in the ribs.

"Sure! Tonight, tomorrow, maybe the next one.." you giggle at that.

"Hold on let me grab you something" he jumps up and leaves the room. You hear the music stop and a small cry.

You sit up, as he walks back into the room, looking dejected.

"Eddie what's wrong?"

He looks at you with a miserable face, throws his hands in the air "we forgot the beers!!" He falls to the floor on his knees in mock anguish. You chuckle at his theatrics.

"You're an idiot Eddie Munson." You throw a pillow at him. He grabs it in the air and throws it back.

"What the hell was I doing? Oh yeah" He throws a faded black band t shirt to you. "To sleep in."

You get up with your back to him as Eddie sits on the edge of the bed.

"So yeah if you wanna just go to the bathroom you can change..." he stops mid sentence.

You had started to unzip your dress, letting it fall to the ground, uncovering your back. You have a tattoo that covers your back, huge, black, bat like wings. Your black, lacy matching underwear is on display. Still with your back to him, you unhook your bra, and that falls too. You slip the t shirt over your head, it's big on you and reaches just to the tops of your thighs. Ok that was mean.

You turn around and look at Eddie's face. "What?" You smirk.

Eddie's broken. He's staring at you, beetroot red face, mouth hanging open, unable to speak.

"Holy shit.. You- you're... you've got...erm, wow." Eddie is speechless for once. "Cool tattoo." He manages to stutter out.

You smile at him sweetly. "Thank you."

"Jesus y/n that was really mean" He says, regaining some composure and pulling you roughly towards him. You laugh, throwing your head back, and his lips find your throat, kissing and sucking your neck. You let out a whimper, he feels so good against your skin.

"You've made me really hard, I hope you realise that you devil woman." He keeps kissing but he's digging his fingers into your ribs, tickling you. You giggle and squirm, enjoying the effect you seem to have on him.

"Sorry, I know, I'm an awful tease. Someone really needs to teach me a lesson."

"Oh just you wait princess. I'm totally getting you back for that."

"I look forward to it Munson." You wink at him.

Getting ready for bed, you grab your bag from the living room, and make your way to the bathroom. You come back to the bedroom with your hair piled up in a bun. Eddie's in his boxers, laying on the bed. His lean figure is relaxed, a smattering of tattoos cover his torso and arms. Your gaze settles on them, unable to take your eyes off him, and drifts down to the rather clear outline of his hardness in his boxers. Now he certainly looks impressive you think to yourself, your mind wandering.

"What's on your mind sweetheart?" He smiles at you smugly.

"Nothing" you say a little quickly. He chuckles. You're enjoying this, the to and fro between you to, even if you had lost that one. He seems to be enjoying it too, his eyes were twinkling, dark pools staring at you.

You join him in bed, under the sheets, wrapping around each other, impossibly close. He kisses you softly on the forehead. "Goodnight princess."

You smile to yourself in the dark, thinking how lucky you are, to be in Eddie's arms.

@eddiesprincess86

#eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #ms gexy writes #stranger things smut #stranger things fan fic #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson au #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #stranger things 4 #eddie munson

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i-write-things · 4 months

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Yan! Chrollo x Willing! Reader

(There's so many Yan! Chrollo x readers that aren't willing, so I'm probably gonna have to be the godmother of fics where the reader is willing)

● Chrollo with a reader who was willing from the start is a rather surprised Chrollo.

● I mean, mostly. He was being pretty charismatic, after all. But he didn't think he'd manage to get you this down bad!

● Not to say he's complaining in the least. Quite the contrary, actually. He's relieved. This makes it so much easier for the both of you. It also earns you a lot more rights a lot quicker.

● Although he thinks it's an act at first, he soon realizes that you genuinely want to be with him. Anytime he's tested you, left you alone with a phone, or left the door unlocked while he stood beside it from the outside, you never made a move.

● Anytime he initiated affection, you wouldn't hesitate. Sometimes, you would be the one to initiate it. And for a while he was scanning for ways you might be using this against him. To build trust? To get in his good graces? Clever, but it won't work on him. But...something about the way you respond to his love...there's no way it's artificial. After a couple of weeks, he is confident that this is 100% authentic love.

● After he realizes this, that's when all the freedoms come rolling in. It's not like he's going to let you walk to the store on your own, but if you asked to go out to the balcony and stargaze, he would most definitely go with you. Not only is it romantic, he also trusts you're not going to jump off the balcony or something stupid.

● However, contrary to popular belief, the more you love him does NOT equal more rights. In some situations, he would only do some things to get you to love him back. However, since you already love him there's no reason to do so.

● For example, he's not going to spoil you for everything you ask, like if you asked for an animal, or if you wanted fresh air.

● "Why? Do I not keep you enough company? Is it not satisfying enough to be here with me alone?"

● This was obvious, but I feel I must say it. The man will guilt trip you. A lot. That's how he manipulates you.

● "Hm. After all the things I got you and do for you. After taking you away from a harsh society and protecting you so closely, it's still never enough, is it?"

● - Him, after you beg him for something he doesn't wanna give you, or you do something he doesn't like.

● Another thing that people don't typically think Yan! Chrollo does, no matter if the reader is willing or not, he let's them pick out their clothes. If the reader is a boy, gender neutral, or just a tomboy, he's not going to force them to wear a dress, makeup, or jewelry. Why would he? You wouldn't be comfortable, and regardless if you're willing or not, he still wants you to be comfortable. And I think the whole kidnapping thing and running a feared crime group is enough evidence to suggest that this man does not at all push tradition onto those who don't like it.

● It's you're style, and while he'd think it would be cute to have you in his style, taking you out of your style just rips out the 'you' in how you look. If he did that, he might as well change your hair style, shampoo, and add tattoos on you how he likes. He is controlling, but not that bad. The only way I would see him forcing you to dress how he wants is if you misbehaved and it was your punishment. But considering reader is willing, he won't. So you don't have to worry about that.

● All in all, Yan! Chrollo with a Willing! Reader is a happy Chrollo. And you know what they say, happy wife murderous stalker husband, happy life!

#i write for you #chrollo #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo x reader #writing for you #chrollo headcanon #Chrollo x willing reader #Yandere chrollo x willing reader #willing reader #:D

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babydollmarauders · 4 months

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I'm leaving you some thoughts because I have been silently praying someone would make a frat boy Jack Au for WEEKS!!!

Frat!boy jack who… has his hand in his girls back pocket at all time during parties, making sure she's always at his side

Frat!boy jack who… becomes the king of strip poker, the only man to ever leave a game fully clothed

Frat!boy jack who… perfected the body shot, licking the salt off of her skin before taking the shot of tequila and then moving up to her face to take the lime from between her teeth which is followed by a sloppy drunken-booze fuelled kiss.

Frat!boy jack who… gets too drunk and gets a tattoo, but wakes up the next morning with no recollection of how it ended up on his body

Frat!boy jack who… had one of those frat weddings with his girlfriend, the night ended with 4 am breakfast at some diner that's open 24/7, and sex in the dirty bathroom

Frat!boy jack who… begs his girlfriend to cut all his shirts into muscle tees because she does it so perfectly and his lines are always jagged

Frat!boy jack who… was permanently banned from tequila because it makes him too slutty

Frat!boy jack who… had to do the extreme pledges in his frosh year and that's how he (maybe) met the love of his life

Frat!boy jack who… carries around the Trojan Nirvana condoms, cause he thinks it's funny to sing “Come as you are” as he pulls it out of his wallet (my old situationship did this to me in my frosh year)

Frat!boy jack who… is wildly known for being an asshole, but he's sweet, seems like he'd be a dick in bed but he worships every girl he sleeps with

Frat!boy jack who… goes through a 5sos phase in his first year because he had to do a karaoke night as one of his hazing events and he had to sing “She Looks So Perfect” in front of a drunk crowd and they've been a staple in his playlist since

AHHHH I LOVE THESE!!!

GOD YES— OKAY! YES! I AGREE WITH PRACTICALLY ALL OF THESE!!!

that first one is so frat jack!! he wants her at his side at all times during parties because he needs to make sure she’s safe!

the only one that doesn’t fit the frat jack au is number 8, solely because he was a legacy rush, so he kinda got the easier things! (and because i already kinda know how babydoll and jack met for the most part, i’m just not entirely sure how they actually got together yet)

BUT THE REST OF THEM ARE SO FRAT BOY JACK, IT’S INSANE

#faithlynn speaks 🪐#ask faithlynn ✨#frat jack au!

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