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clairdelunelove · 1 year

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Things Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley Finds Attractive About You Pt.II

simon 'ghost' riley x reader, mentions of soap, price, gaz, and alejandro

genre: fluff

warnings: slightly suggestive, cursing

synopsis: a couple more cute quirks that you possess that ghost can’t get enough of! headcanon edition!

a.n. was this on your christmas list?? if it was then santa’s back in town babes :P but seriously, I hope that the holidays have been treating you well. stay warm! if you can, pls consider checking out my kofi and thank you for your continued support <3

when you glance at him and smile

you were doing it again

it was the fifth time ghost caught your bright eyes glancing in his direction

and it wouldn’t have come to his attention, after all eye contact was given in accordance to common courtesy if you were discussing matters with someone, but you were lounging halfway across the room

ghost sat alone at the main table

a couple members surrounded you,, occupied in light banter and small talk

alejandro lightly nudged your shoulder, murmuring a casual joke that has soap roaring in laughter

their boisterous voices carry throughout the room which causes ghost to peer up at them

he couldn’t afford to lose concentration,, needing this alone time to debrief about the previous mission (i.e. which formation was most efficient, how many soldiers he still had left, if there were enough food rations)

but

taking a sneak peek couldn’t hurt

fiddling with the strap of his holster, he wordlessly tightens the garment along his waist and watches as the corners of your lips curl into a polite smile while engaging in small talk with the group

he spots soap place a gentle hand on your shoulder, the male twisting himself closer to you, as a way to balance himself while heaving over in laughter at another quip that alejandro shares

before he can think better of it, a ragged breath leaves ghost’s lips at soap’s blatant display of physical affection toward you

fortunately unfortunately his balaclava doesn’t muffle the noise of disdain which causes soap’s attention to snap to him

“somethin’ you want to add, Lt.?” soap challenges with a raised brow, “might need to come closer so we can hear ya.”

soap graces a sly smirk, inadvertently mentioning how ghost was literally the only one that strayed away by being halfway across the room

and soap’s attempt at pestering the other male is glaringly obvious,, especially from the way his hand still lingers around your shoulder

there’s a soft chorus of chuckles that erupt from the rest of the members but you simply await the lieutenant's reaction to the lighthearted prod

ghost doesn’t take the bait though

“I’ll bear it in mind,” he bluntly acknowledges while readjusting in his seat

he wasn’t entirely against the idea of mingling but found that restocking/readjusting his equipment was the first priority

the lieutenant’s casual response leaves the squad speechless,, most expecting him to reprimand soap from the insinuation and their astonished gazes are fixed on him

ghost, however, continues to nonchalantly estimate the amount of ammunition left in his weapons

that is– until a subdued giggle fills the empty air

and he’s aware of that specific sound, doesn’t need to glance up to affirm his belief because it always tugs at his heart in an unfamiliar way

yet, his dark gaze still deviates to find yours

“my apologies. it was just really quiet.”

your voice is meek in comparison to earlier now that ghost’s scrutiny is trained on you and the detail leads to him raising a light-toned brow

the top of his balaclava crinkles due to the action,, a small humane feature that you desperately cling onto

soap also dropped his hand in response to your small outburst and satisfaction creeps up at ghost

he nods once, ease swelling within him at the sight of your untouched shoulder, before returning to concentrate on the equipment in front of him

“yer aff yer heid, bonnie,” soap whispers to you once light chatter erupts again, “I’d sure fix his problem.”

“what’s his problem?”

“the mask,” the scottish male huffs like it was obvious, “it’s always on–”

“I quite like it.”

you quickly interrupt soap’s rambling and he groans upon seeing your infatuated smile and usual faraway glint in your eyes that you adorn whenever you stare at ghost

much like you were committing now

“it’s the mystery,” soap wildly runs his fingers through his mohawk while attempting to explain your interest in the lieutenant, “that’s why the bonnies like him.”

“well,” ghost’s listless eyes reach yours and you finish your confession in a wishful exhale, “I don’t blame them.”

and ghost recognizes the look you’re casting him

that bashful yet alluring glimmer in your stare that has him placing down whatever equipment he was holding so he could rightfully return your gaze

and of course he hears your breathy disclosure,, revealing more than he’d bargained for

but he’s steadfast, not planning on tearing his gaze away, when you abruptly break eye contact with him

ghost blinks– once, twice, three times– upon losing your heated scrutiny an emptiness threatens to swallow him,, his body maneuvering to repose in your direction

legs stretched in front of him, he edges closer to where you stood while crossing his hulking arms

but you’re caught in conversing with someone and his finger taps idly on the table to patiently await the moment your gaze sweeps over to him again

it’s almost pathetic how he waits for your eyes to fix on him

however, when it does, he almost lets out a frazzled breath from beneath his mask

restocking his equipment could wait for another time because you grace him with one of those beguiling smiles that beckons him over– inviting the tempting risk and enticing danger that accompanies ghost wherever he goes

he catches you red-handed when you give him a slow once-over,, dragging your half-lidded eyes across the expanse of his massive physique but finishing your scan with an appreciative simper

and that’s when he finally moves

firmly pushing out the chair from beneath him, his robust legs carry him towards you in a resolute stride

a knowing grin dances on your lips due to his advancing,, the sight as clear as day when ghost shoulders past the members surrounding you

he doesn’t mumble any apologies

instead, he presses himself so close to you that he can distinguish your rapid heartbeat from beneath your fitted shirt and the cadence causes his head to tilt

his ebony eyes narrow upon seeing the growing blush, a shade of rouge, overtake your cheeks and the innocent reaction would’ve fooled him if he didn’t know what you secretly were

a vixen

he dips his head lower and the next words he utters drips from his tongue like smooth ambrosia

“see somethin’ you like, doll?”

your voice

ghost had a love/hate relationship with missions

on one hand, he was going in blind about the amount of recruits he’d lose

It was a constant risk of precious lives, one’s that had family/friends/people waiting for them back at home, with every mission

yet, leading the squad through missions kept his mind still,, rendering him too busy focusing on basic survival than fighting the incessant thoughts within his mind that strangled him during his free time

the loneliness, mental exhaustion, and emptiness eating at him until he could no longer stand it

but there was also you

“bravo 0-7, how copy?”

filtering through the radio’s static, your voice is carried through as a gentle melody in ghost’s tactical headset

the question cuts through the debris that he crushes beneath his heavy boots

he recognizes a heavy exhale from one of the recruits following behind him and he raises a hand to silence them

hearing your voice directions is crucial

but secretly, he’s glad that the higher ups invested in the latest technology so he could hear your voice clearly

especially the soothing inflection of his alias

“this is bravo 0-7,” he replies, never one to delay his responses to you

“lieutenant.”

and he’s familiar with that pleased tone that’s shared in the troop’s comms

the teasing purr of his rank visibly causes some of the newer recruits to freeze in their movements,, mind straying to less than innocent scenarios from the way you uttered it

before he can control himself, he casts an annoyed glare at them that (of course) goes unnoticed by you

his haunting eyes narrow considerably to wordlessly serve as a threat for their childish behavior

“(y/n),” he directs his attention to the seedy enclosure before him, “give me a reading.”

there’s a minute of silence, which ghost anxiously listens for any background noise that indicates if you’re in danger, before your voice crackles, “enemy ground cluster spotted. wiped them out asap.”

“atta girl.”

unbeknownst to him, your finger hovers above the communication button so the shaky exhale you let out from his praise isn’t heard

and he’s aware you had to excuse yourself due to his subtle approval

“target destruction confirmed,” captain price’s authoritative voice reminds ghost to refocus on the task at hand, “heading to the next destination.”

the squad synchronizes their movements to head south, in accordance to the enemies’ location

“where are your sights at, (y/n),” ghost implores while readjusting the mic so it sits snugly over his mask

unfortunately, his finger unknowingly bumps against his equipment and puts the two of you in a private channel

which you decide to take full advantage of

he casts a cautious glance in all directions before gesturing to the recruits to fall in behind him

it’s silent besides the branches that ghost prods away while he trudges through a clearing

steadying the throwing knife in his hand, he recognizes the cool metal while the weight of the weapon is slight in his grasp

as light as a feather

he’s more than accustomed to the ridges, grooves, and feel of the knife,, using it in necessary combat situations

but his dependable grip, the one that’s effortlessly shoved the weapon into countless enemies, falters when you answer his inquiry in a breathy voice

“my sights are locked on you, lieutenant.”

and it’s a line that could be taken two ways: you were watching ghost’s six or you were solely engaged on him for personal reasons

the fact was– your gaze was trained on him

it causes satisfaction,, scorching hot which spreads through him and keeps him warm in the chilly weather

and your utterance is as sweet as sugar that ghost is certain that you spout liquid honey when you part your lips

he reasons that’s probably why your lips are always so glossy whenever he sees you

ghost shifts, eyes trailing to the distant watch tower that you’re situated at, and slowly shakes his head

you were up to no good

“you’re trouble,” he reprimands but there’s no bite in his tone, “be good, will ya?”

“and if I’m not?”

there it is again, the sultry tone that drips from your voice to infer that there’s a double meaning

he halts to a stop, dragging a gloved hand over his face in an attempt to regain his self-control, and fights back a strangled groan

“come here then, pup,” his voice is so low-pitched that it serves as an inviting taunt, “say it to my face.”

and his self-restraint is thinning, becoming nonexistent because of the dangerous game you were playing

the desire to remind you of the high risk that accompanies cheeky comments floods within him

turning away from the other recruits to maintain some privacy, he’s initially pleased when he doesn’t hear your immediate retort

it seemed like you were finally learning that fueling fire wasn’t always the safest decision

but goodness did it create an indulgent buzz

and he curses under his breath when your brazen response crackles through the comms

“you serve our country,” your lips curl at the ends as you breathe out, “I just want to serve you.”

when you laugh at his jokes

honestly ghost wouldn’t coin himself as being a “jokester”

prefers if the other members told jokes to keep the mood lighthearted,, which he knows is essential to keeping up morale during missions

but if the time comes then his quick thinking is perfect for him to conjure up a joke or two

granted, it wouldn’t be the best jokes

ghost’s humor could be described as— interesting

very interesting

and a consensus that the other squad members agree with is that his jokes lean more towards dark humor >.>

like don’t get them wrong! dark humor could be used to transcend heavier emotions and share stronger emotions,, which is especially the case for ghost but they prefer to keep the jests easygoing (for the most part)

and ghost doesn’t really mind when his humor is overlooked in most situations since he understands it’s an acquired preference

but boy do you live to test him

“please? can’t you tell me at least one?”

you were at it again,, forcing your hands together while you conjured up all your effort to make your bottom lip quiver in a dramatic pout

leave it to you to corner ghost in the hallway right when he exited the maintenance room

caught him by surprise too! had to abruptly halt to stop the front of his tactical vest from bumping into you since he almost didn’t spot you because you were tucked so close to the doorway

he had raised a single, sharp brow to wordlessly ask if you needed anything from him,, mostly expecting that you’d usher him somewhere else to gather next mission’s intel

but ghost didn’t predict that you’d practically raced across the base just to ask him to tell you a joke

“just haven’t heard you tell one to the task force,” you casually explained which only added to his confusion

and he doesn’t know what aided in your curiosity to hear one of his jokes since you never disclosed how it had been a topic discussed among the group,, about how hearing a joke from ghost was a rarity

a part of you wished to prove them wrong

so you drew your lower lip between your teeth and dragged your eyes up until they were leveled with his

“please? for me?”

he can hear the lighter pitch of your voice when you’re pleading like this but he remains unmoving,, only crossing his arms to watch the act you put on

the corners of your mouth fall almost unceremoniously upon noticing ghost’s impassive front,, the goal of hearing one of his jokes slowly floating further and further away from your grasp

when you press yourself close enough for him to get a whiff of your sweet perfume, however, he rasps, “don’t do that.”

“what?”

“you think every time you say, ‘please? for me?’ I’ll do whatever you want,” ghost chides while slowly shaking his head, “well, not this time.”

because he knows better than to give in to your every whim– no matter how insignificant it was

it would build a bad habit if he always agreed to taking on your work or tasks,, which would evolve into small demands that he’d be burdened to complete along with his personal work

at least, he thinks he knows better

but then you nibble on your bottom lip and softly ask again, “please? for me?”

and he finds himself huffing out a heavy breath, dragging his gloved hand across his face, and uttering, “fine.”

so he stiffly stands there, lost in thought, until a couple awkward moments of silence pass

by this time you weren’t expecting much, assuming that ghost would rely on a cliche joke to tell you since you hadn’t given him much time to prepare in advance

but his throaty voice knocks you out of your stupor, “what do you call someone who just got run over by a tank?”

and there you go– you had all that you desired since ghost managed to tell you a joke

he observes how you tilt your head,, mind racing in response to his joke before you ultimately give up with a small shrug

his eyes follow the gentle curve of shoulders before meeting your gaze again

ghost figures that he’d answer for you

“crunchy.”

a beat of silence,, ghost glances away

there’s no way he would’ve envisioned the feedback you’d give him in return to his (rather) dark humor but hearing your overjoyed giggles made him think he’d hit the ultimate jackpot

“that’s a good one,” you manage to compliment between your fit of laughter, “I liked it.”

your hand outstretched to gently shove at ghost’s arm,, aware of the solid mass that served as the top of his bicep and you immediately withdraw your hand at the realization

peering back at you, he recognizes the mirth that swirls in your eyes and notes the pride that swells within him

because you’re laughing at his joke

the intensity grips at him,, threatening to never let him go so long as you’re next to him

it’s addicting

he quietly continues staring at you as your mouth curves into a delighted smile

and he tries to memorize the action,, comparing your smile to the brilliant half-moons that he’d spot in the dark skies during nightly missions,, and the sight is almost too beautiful to avert his gaze from

similar to how a person that enjoys art ogles at intricate and exquisite paintings

before he rethinks his decision, he decides to speak up

“don’t smile at me like that.”

and although it sounds like a reprimand, the words leave his lips almost tenderly as he gazes at you

saying “please”

you weren’t typically one to complain about a long, drawn-out day because learning how to cope with them was part of your job

but today just wasn’t your day :(

from hauling extra equipment across the base, getting a light scolding from the higher-ups, and waiting for directions while in the frigid air– it was exhausting

not to mention that the oncoming headache, as well as chills, indicated that sickness was upon you

and as the back of your head hit the couch’s plush pillow,, your relieved exhale was a huge indicator that relaxing was the dream for you

yet, having time to rest was too good to be true

as price ushered the rest of 141 to gather around, there was a debate to enforce lookout duty for the night

just the usual scouting for any navigation marks, ships, or hazards,, which was more difficult to spot in the dark

there were clear directions given to the members on who would be put on lookout duty

and what do you know, it was your turn to lead

so you’re absolutely dreading your shift, desperately attempting to shrug the burden off to someone else

“soap,” you hesitantly call out before the task force members could waltz to their own rooms, “do me a solid and trade shifts with me, will you?”

there’s a flicker of consideration in soap’s cerulean-colored eyes when he notices your lack of energy and enthusiasm towards lookout duty but he’s unwilling to give up his few hours of rest as well

“am pure done in. I can’t stay awake,” soap explains with a grimace, “sorry ‘bout that, bonnie.”

forcing the frown on your face to turn into a stiff smile, you allow him to brush past you while you reassure him, “I understand.”

then you were onto your next victim comrade

“how about you, gaz,” you shift closer to the sergeant just before he leaves, “mind taking lookout duty from me?”

he pivots using the heel of his foot, not quite expecting that you’d ask because you were usually the first to volunteer for the shift, and raises his brows

gaz tips his cap in your direction to serve as an apologetic gesture, “afraid I can’t, (y/n).”

and just like that, the entirety of the squad leaves you standing in the main room

defeated

your eyes catch the burnt-orange hue casted along the horizon, signaling that dusk was upon you and your stalling would be inevitable

with a huff, you’re about to leave the room to situate yourself at the observatory deck when you catch sight of a lingering figure

“lieutenant?”

upon hearing his rank, ghost glances up from his task of dusting off his handgun and crumples the dirty rag in his hand

he’s leaning against the edge of the table, feet spread apart to stabilize himself

his dead-set eyes wordlessly prods you to continue talking and you force down the lump in your throat, “sorry. I was just surprised to see you still here, that’s all.”

he’s clearly exhausted

the usual tenseness in his shoulders has slowly diminished to where he appears withdrawn

yet he thumbs at the weapon’s magazine and your eyes watch as the design on his gloves seem to dance at the action

ghost nods once,, not one for small talk and you internally groaned at that late realization

silence ensues

when an idea pops into your mind– why not ask ghost to take your watch duty?

he’d understand, right?

inklings of doubt begin to gnaw at you but you were utterly desperate for rest tonight and your headache was worsening by the second

“sir,” you meekly initiate before you have the chance to back down, “would you be willing to take my lookout duty shift?”

your voice wavers, it’s blatantly obvious, and the anxiousness urges you to ramble on, “sorry! I don’t usually ask others to switch with me. it’s just been a really long day and I think I could benefit with some sleep. which, now that I’m thinking about it, anyone would benefit from sleep since everyone’s exhausted from the mission but what I’m trying to say is–”

ghost raises a gloved hand

it’s a silent command to get you to halt and he rises to his feet

you note the way his eyes deliberately scan the room before taking a step in your direction

his tactical gear rattles,, the clasps slightly swinging due to the movement but he crosses the space between the two of you with ease

the close proximity is perfect to get a glimpse of his opaque eyes which are obscured from smudged eye paint

tucking his index finger underneath your chin, he lifts your face so you’re forced to maintain his stare, and his pale lashes flutter when he narrows his eyes

“use your words.”

the command is throaty, gruff, and deliciously low

it takes you a second to regain your composure, inwardly stunned at how enticing his voice sounded, and decide to take a moment to gather your thoughts

his touch is warm

and ghost’s gaze was specifically fixed on you

however, his hard stare flickers when your teeth gently tug at your bottom lip while you ponder the most effective way to get your point across

you would need to use your final resort to sway ghost into covering your shift!

“I’m just not feeling the best right now and would really appreciate it if you took lookout duty instead.” you explained in sincerity

it’s a good tactic– great even, but it wasn’t the final trick up your sleeve

but it didn’t matter what you were explaining to ghost (whether you were giving him a half-assed excuse or ultimately feeling unwell) because he wasn’t listening,, too focused on the glimmer that shined within your wide eyes

and the sparkle became more apparent under the dim light

ghost’s grasp tilted your chin upwards,, he’s silent and awaiting your next ploy

he, however, wasn’t expecting the next word to tumble from your lips in a soft, pleading whisper

“please.”

his restraint runs alarmingly thin,, his finger that’s tucked underneath your chin twitches and the desire to encourage you to say it again is evident

“what was that?”

the question is uttered so dangerously low that you gulp before softly repeating, “please, lieutenant.”

and goodness did you look alluring while voicing it

he’s at a standstill

not to mention that he delights in the unwarranted swipe of your tongue over your plush lips,, wetting them just enough to shine

and as he’s staring down at you, you’re peering up at him but he’s so unbelievably tall that you crowd yourself closer

bloody hell

the warmth radiating off your body reminds him of your proximity and before he can fall victim to your coquetry he reels back

who was he to tell you no?

“fine.”

it’s a simple response uttered by ghost that immensely pleases you and you can’t help but wonder how permissive he was about it

“really?” you question, brows shooting up in surprise because it was rare for the lieutenant to willingly volunteer to cover someone else’s lookout duty

he drops the hand holding your chin and nods once

busying himself by rechecking his handgun for full ammunition, he chastises how easily he made his decision

can’t blame him though

ghost would’ve been a goner if you continued pleading to him using your expressive eyes,, the ones that cause his fingers to inch closer to hold you

the most dangerous weapon he’s faced (in all honesty)

and he’d rather NOT be rendered speechless in front of you

he tucks the gun into the proper spot on his holster and turns to leave in accordance to his end of the compromise

but not before he coolly mentions, “you should do that more.”

you’re confused but ultimately satisfied to have finally issued your shift to someone else

head tilting due to ghost’s comment, you decide to clarify what he meant

“do what more, lieutenant?”

“beg.”

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost #simon riley #call of duty x reader #call of duty modern warefare 2 #call of duty #simon ghost riley imagine #cod x reader #ghost cod #simon ghost riley headcanons

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shurisneakers · 3 months

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unsolved (i)

Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or any shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky at his little shit supreme, Very Loud reader, images and memes that all have alt texts.

A/N: yes this is literally harmless in a different font. do not ask me if anything doesn't make sense. i cannot explain. i resurface every 3 years to present you with ideas born from menty b's. ANYWAY shout out to my beloved ryan and shane. pls enjoy <3

Bucky doesn’t appeal to the youths.

Apparently.

On God, he cannot fathom why.

He had definitely left the house in the last six months, maybe. Smiled in at least two pictures that existed on the internet. He even knew what Discord was. Sort of.

By all accounts, he should be treated as the modern day icon that he was.

“The youths?” he repeats, the word so foreign on his tongue it felt odd to even say it.

“Your numbers are the lowest of the whole team.” The latest tech-dude, with a tablet twelve models ahead of the one Bucky had in his room, tells him monotonously. “Wilson, Romanoff and Barton score the highest. Everyone else lies around the middle. You are dead-last.”

Bucky has the audacity to look offended.

“Anything to say?” Their PR head, Maya, asks him, amused.

He stares, formulating the wittiest one liner he could in three seconds.

“I don’ care,” he mumbles.

Maya sighs. “Look, the team took the decision together. As far as I’m aware, you are still a member. You need some PR if you guys want to stay in the public’s good books.”

“No one’s gonna listen to me.” Bucky wasn’t exactly the poster child for American values. He couldn’t even vote until three years ago, and that came only after the full wrath of a Steve Rogers descended on the email inbox of the DMV.

“That’s why it’s important to get them to like you,” Maya emphasizes. “Or the idea of you at least. A very sanitized, corporate friendly version.”

His eyebrow twitches unintentionally.

“And also you signed the contract.”

Well. Shit.

Truth be told– and he has openly and rather loudly stated this on numerous occasions even especially when no one asked– he doesn’t understand why they need a PR team. The world has calmed down significantly over the last few years. Bucky hadn’t really been out crime-fighting as much as he was people-watching. There hasn’t been an earth-shatteringly dystopian-level event in the longest time, and there seemed to be a group of spandex-clad teenagers who seemed to do a good job at taking care of them when they did threaten to occur. Go kids.

Even if they needed PR, he could arguably understand the appeal of Sam and Nat and why the people would want to see more of them. Bucky, on the other hand, looked like he crawled onto Earth most days of the week.

“What do I have to do?” he asks ultimately, knowing there was no way to get out of this. “Interviews?”

The intern shares a look with Maya. Bucky shares a look with the ceiling.

“The team agreed to do a series of videos, each focusing on a different niche,” she begins, “Crash courses on science, pointing out mistakes in spy movies. Once a week.”

Bucky nods along. He can pinpoint Bruce and Nat for those.

Maya stares at him.

Bucky stares back.

“So,” she says slowly, like he’s a moron, “you would–”

“No.”

The intern sighs heavily like they discussed that this was going to happen. Bucky was getting predictable. This annoys him even further, for some reason.

“Only once a week, and it doesn’t have to be anything crazy–”

“I’m not doing videos,” he interjects. “I’ll tweet a few times. I’ll even go outside. But ’m not doin’ videos.”

A big step was to get the Avengers off Twitter after the regular shit-storm that occurs every time they’d quote-tweet another politician calling them shitheads. Getting them back on seems counterproductive.

“Fine,” Maya relents, looking at the intern. “We'll work something out.”

Bucky leans back in his chair, and meditating on ways he can weasel his way out of those too.

So they stick him in a couple of interviews.

Bucky, as the recluse extraordinaire that he was, does unsurprisingly terrible at them.

Variety does a piece on him that was supposed to take up 2 pages. They send back half a page worth of usable material and Bucky gets a lecture on how monosyllables don't count as answers.

He grunts in return. Maya’s itch to smack his shoulder with the rolled up draft increases.

They set him up for pap walks. Just him getting fast food for the team, or sitting in the park.

They don’t take into account that Bucky was trained professionally for years on how to hide, sneak in and out of places without a soul knowing he was ever there.

The paparazzi spend three hours waiting for him outside the pizza place, while he’s been home for two hours with two demolished pepperonis and an order of mozzarella sticks.

They give him access to his Twitter.

He tweets some dumb shit and gets shadow banned by that evening.

Maya is sick and tired, and the interns have shifted three times since the whole ordeal started. Bucky honestly feels a little bad. Maybe he should try to be like Scott, who not only wrote a book, finger-gunned at photographers, did an interview a week, but also agreed to a podcast and a video series about literally anything they suggested.

“Play nice,” Sam tells Bucky one evening.

It’s an off-hand comment, not even really looking at him while he says it.

Bucky doesn’t need to ask what he’s referring to, but he thinks that maybe he has gone too far.

He begrudgingly agrees.

Therefore, it begins.

They stick him in the background of a few videos. Just to interact, add his commentary on what was going on, suggestions.

Then the jokes really start.

“I just don’t got anything to add,” Bucky tries, in a failure of an attempt to justify his lack of contribution.

Maya only stares at him, but Bucky swears he can hear her curse quietly, even though her lips don’t move even a millimeter.

He is not put in another video.

And so he finds himself here.

In a meeting room that he’s convinced is barricaded from the outside so he can’t slither out the door again. Another intern with pink-tinted glasses that took up half their face.

Maya’s in the midst of explaining to him that sure, his numbers had gone up by a decimal, but that was because people had started editing him into the backgrounds of other pictures for other users to find in a perplexing take on Where’s Waldo.

“Videos seem to be working,” she ties it together. “But we need more than you just standing silently behind Captain Rogers.”

“But it’s working,” Bucky objects. “I don’t see why it has to change.”

Maya sends him a glare. Bucky decides then it’s good to shut up.

“Are you on the internet a significant amount?” the intern asks. The glasses on their face have changed colours to green. Bucky’s eyebrow furrows.

“No.”

For the next thirty minutes, he is subjected to a pop quiz about too many words ending with ‘core’, ‘coded’ and ‘eras’. He’s surprised that he knows what cottagecore is. He definitely doesn’t fucking know what a tomatogirl, nor does he want to.

“What do you like doing?” the intern enunciates, pulling up a spreadsheet of niches that had built a dedicated community around themselves over the years. “Makeup? Cleaning? Parkour?”

Bucky wonders if they’d really create a montage of him just micro cleaning the kitchen every week. It doesn’t sound half bad.

Beyond that, the only thing he can think of is woodworking, which Sam introduced him to. While he spends time creating little figures, he wouldn’t say it was–

“You really are dead silent,” the intern breaks his train of thought, tone almost that of wonder. “Guess the whole ‘ghost story for seventy years’ is more true than I thought.”

Bucky throws him a weary look, and works on unclenching the fist that tightened involuntarily.

“Was that necessary?” Maya’s voice comes coldly. “Take fifteen. Go find the other one we were supposed to meet.”

While sheepish and somewhat apologetic, the kid still looks relieved to be out of there. To be honest, Bucky isn’t really offended– he’s grown a thick skin over the years. But he also thought the guy was a little shit now.

Maya turns back to him, but Bucky finds that the table contains wonders far more interesting than the conversation at hand.

“Back to what we were talking about.” She ruffles through something on her laptop. “Puppets? History?”

He wordlessly shakes his head.

Been the former, seen too much of the latter.

Maya’s head tilts abruptly. “You like ghosts?”

He wonders if the prior conversation had anything to do with this insightful question.

Bucky shrugs. “Don’t exist.”

“Really,” Maya deadpans. “Aliens and multiversal baboons are fine, but no ghosts.”

“I’ve seen aliens and multiversal baboons. Never seen a ghost in my life,” Bucky argues right back.

“Other people have seen ghosts.”

“Good for other people.”

The door swings open right as Maya’s eyes narrow at him. Guess it wasn’t padlocked.

“Whatever it is you think I did, Maya, I didn’t. I think,” you announce in a volume too much for a closed room, stopping when you see Bucky sitting cross-armed and looking delightfully disgruntled. “Oh hey, Barnes. Fancy seeing you here.”

Bucky had met you. The newest addition to the team that had made a grand entrance a couple of weeks ago. He thinks you stay on the floor below him, but he has nothing backing this hypothesis other than the disco funk music that had started appearing at odd hours of the night.

“Please sit,” Maya cracks a smile at you that Bucky had yet to earn. “Sorry, I know our meeting is scheduled for later, but I figured we could kill two birds with one stone.”

You look between her and Bucky, who hasn’t moved an inch since you got here, much less even said hello.

“You must be really bad if Maya had to call me in,” you tell him outright. “I’m usually like, her last option.”

“Thanks,” Bucky replies dryly.

“Look, here’s my final pitch.” Maya sighs, before turning to you. “You’re new, and we need something to introduce you slowly to the public.”

“Oh, am I finally getting hard launched?” You grin, and Bucky doesn’t know what that means. “Just imagine me kicking my feet, giggling or whatever.”

“And he needs… an upgrade.” Maya’s thumb juts out towards Bucky who simply rolls his eyes.

“Right.” Your sight lands on him from across the table. “I’ve seen the memes.”

“What memes?” he grunts, because while the team had definitely seen them, it didn't occur to anyone they should show it to him. He loves them. Really. So much. Die for them.

You only look too happy to pull out your phone and start typing.

“Do you know what skinwalkers are?”

“No.”

“That’s what they say you look like, lurking in the back of all your friends’ videos,” you continue, swerving around your phone to show him.

Bucky doesn’t look impressed. He can’t say he blames them either, which makes him inexplicably maddens him.

“At least they’re calling you their boyfriend,” you add, entirely unhelpfully. “That’s gotta count.”

“Right.” Maya clears her throat. “The both of you–”

“Are getting paired together, I suppose,” you hum.

Bucky’s eyebrows pull together.

He barely knows you. Just a little bit on how you ended up here, that you enjoyed hanging out with the team, figuring out your place in the compound, and were seemingly doing a great job at it.

You were… loud. And open.

Bucky feels the compulsive need to compensate for that by doubling down on how silent he could get, as if the two of you couldn’t co-exist in the same space in equilibrium.

Maya pointedly raises a finger at you. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

“For the right price, I will believe in whatever you tell me to.”

Her face lights up brighter than Bucky's ever seen.

“Great.” Maya slams her laptop closed. “See you later.”

Bucky’s left staring as she exits, not even throwing the both of you another look.

“That was quick,” your voice cuts through the silence. “What was that all about?”

“Don’ ask me,” he grumbles, with a sinking feeling that he knew exactly what was about to follow.

“Ghost hunting?” Bucky echoes a week later, as expected.

“Yes,” Maya tells him simply. “Two of you. A series based on paranormal activity.”

“I don’t even believe in them,” he reiterates.

“That’s the point,” she emphasises. “Skeptic and believer. It makes for a good contrast.”

“Why us both?” He hopes it doesn’t come off as offensive. He just doesn’t see why he can’t do this with Sam. Even Clint, if a gun was really pressed to his head.

“I’m new, no one gives a shit about me,” you say brightly and full of promise. “Yet.”

“Exactly. It’ll be low key. Not an overwhelming number of viewers, no expectations. It’s perfect for launching one Avenger and re-launching another.”

“Sounds rad.” You grin, leaning back as your feet rest on the chair in front of you.

Maya looks relieved for a moment that at least one of you was on board. “No promises on anything. We shoot one video, and if it does well, we stick with it.”

“What if I don’t want to?” Bucky argues.

“Then you have until tomorrow morning to give us another feasible idea,” Maya dishes back.

Bucky retreats into his seat, arms crossed over his chest.

Truth be told, he considered himself to be the most boring person in the team and though he had made his peace with that, he was sure thar bringing that up now would entail Maya shooting him in the foot.

“Fine,” he agrees and the sighs around the room are loud.

He scoffs. So fucking dramatic and for what.

“Put her there, partner.” You stretch ungracefully over the large table, sticking out your hand.

Bucky eyes your hand. “Do you even believe in ghosts?”

“I do now, yeah.” You nod seriously. “Love ‘em. Can’t get enough of them.”

“One video,” Maya reminds him as a balm. “And if it doesn’t work, you’re off the hook forever.”

Off the hook? Forever? For Bucky?

Yay.

“One video,” he reiterates.

You roll your eyes before smiling when he leans forward to grab it. You yank it up and down clunkily. He blinks at you, letting go slowly.

“Thank fuck,” Maya groans, head dropping onto the table.

Your smile is wild. “Guess we’re doing this shit together.”

He doesn’t even have to look very deep in his soul. He already knows he’s going to suffer.

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chimcess · 3 months

Text

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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astonmartinii · 1 year

Note

Heyy! Can I request more vettel insta AU? Honestly I have no preference for the reader I just enjoy reading vettel a lot because of how less we get to see it but I'm happy to discuss suggestions 🤩 hamilton y/n + roscoe, charle's sister anything really

family ties | sebastian vettel instagram au

pairing: sebastian vettel x leclerc!reader

seb may be retiring, but he's not gone from the paddock completely, though the reason is not exactly what you'd expect

ynleclercart

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 110,067 others

tagged: sebastianvettel

ynleclercart: it's been a rollercoaster of a ride but i am beyond grateful to have been able to design helmets for such an icon of the sport. seb will always be missed on track, but if he ever wants to return, he knows where i am <3

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user49 noooo can people stop posting their goodbye posts for seb i'm still in denial

sebastianvettel no one else i'd rather work with, thank you for always supplying the beautiful lids

ynleclercart always - come visit soon

sebastianvettel i'll be there

user12 ^^ this is just digging the knife deeper PLS DON'T GO SEB

charles_leclerc what about your loving and devilishly good-looking brother?

ynleclercart eh, seb is better

user35 most iconic leclerc and it doesn't even come close

ynleclercpriv

liked by charles_leclerc, sebastianvettel and 31 others

ynleclercpriv: sometimes babygirl is a fully grown man who hikes in his free time

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charles_leclerc tell him if he comes to monaco i'm shaving it

ynleclercpriv over my dead body charlie

charles_leclerc that can be arranged

sebastianvettel thank you for the compliment (?) my love, charles stop threatening her or i shall have to intervene

maxverstappen1 get his ass seb

ynleclercpriv max why are you involved in our family domestic?

maxverstappen1 idk seemed fun

sebastianvettel can we all go back to the original point of the post - admiring me?

f1gossipandtea

liked by 2,130 others

f1gossipandtea: seb spotting!! anon sent me this picture of recently retired sebastian vettel in monaco of all places. why do we think he's there?

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user45 my king is looking so good, retirement unfortunately suits him

user10 my sebchal heart tells me that he was there to see charles but it's not likely :(

user09 no let's be delusional

user22 i saw a post that he was later seen with a woman??? a girlfriend mayhaps?

user49 pls no i can't take retirement and a girlfriend in a month

sebastianvettel added to their story

[caption: had to commission the best in the business - thanks y/n]

ynleclercpriv

liked by sebastianvettel, pierregasly and 35 others

ynleclercpriv: goofing around in the wilderness

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sebastianvettel it's not goofing, we're serious hikers

ynleclercpriv sure we are and i'm also a professional boxer

maxverstappen1 y/n can you get seb to come back? it's a shit show here without him

charles_leclerc i agree with him for once

ynleclercpriv lmao they gagged ur ass @lewishamilton

charles_leclerc y/n i'm being serious !!!! he'll listen to you if you ask

sebastianvettel i can literally read all of this

maxverstappen1 so you'll come back?

sebastianvettel nope

sebastianvettel

liked by ynleclercpriv, charles_leclerc and 702,088 others

sebastianvettel: vacation and all that jazz

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user78 seb using instagram like a normal person after retiring, my prayers were heard

charles_leclerc you're 1000% going to be a crunchy dad

sebastianvettel i don't know what that means but i don't think a person can be crunchy

charles_leclerc that's exactly what a crunchy dad would say

ynleclercpriv don't try and trick him with online terminology

user30 i love the domestics in this comment section i didn't know the leclercs and seb were that close

user40 call me a conspiracy theorist all you want but that's defo y/n leclerc

f1gossipgirl

liked by user45, user10 and 404 others

f1gossipgirl: another seb spotting, the german made a surprise appearance in melbourne... and in a ferrari jacket. our sources say that he was accompanied by a woman but he wasn't seen again other than his entrance. do we think seb will watch from ferrari? does he have a new job? does he have a girlfriend? what do you think?

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user10 omg he's so mysterious but like i need him to be straight up with me right now

user39 my brain: he's probably just there to support, my heart: seb for ferrari team principal

user88 omg imagine seb as team principal helping charles win a championship

user67 so someone commented on seb's post that he might be dating y/n leclerc (charles' sister, seb's old helmet designer and artist) and that would make sense that he'd accompany his gf to support her brother

user11 omg the thought of charles and seb being brother-in-laws

ynleclercpriv

liked by sebastianvettel, charles_leclerc and 35 others

ynleclercpriv: forgive me friends but i am so in love with this man

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charles_leclerc believe me we know

sebastianvettel i love you too honey 🍯

pierregasly where did you get the last photo... asking for a friend

ynleclercpriv it's from norbert - you snooze you lose pear

maxverstappen1 omg parents

charles_leclerc STOP

sebastianvettel i'm not sure we're your parents but yes you can come visit for christmas

charles_leclerc wait i thought we were coming this year

ynleclercpriv more than one family can come at a time - grow up charlie

sebastianvettel

liked by ynleclercpriv, charles_leclerc and 1,023,566 others

sebastianvettel: doing melbourne right

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user45 sebastian... you don't know what a soft launch is

user13 he's an influencer now baby

charles_leclerc i thought social media was stupid ?

sebastianvettel let me appreciate the love of my life in peace

charles_leclerc okay romeo

user19 the last two posts + charles commenting on every post + seb being seen in the paddock IN A FERRARI JACKET = i'm losing my mind

redbullracing can't wait to see you tomorrow champ!

user48 they're fuming he's being seen with ferrari

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 772,303 others

tagged: scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc & sebastianvettel

f1: a familiar face back in the ferrari garage! seb made his return to the scuderia in melbourne surrounded by former coworkers and the leclerc family.

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user48 AND THE LECLERC FAMILY ??? they know what they're doing f1 admin is a seb x y/n truther

liked by f1

charles_leclerc he loves me too much to stay away for too long

ynleclercpriv *us

user38 YALLLLLLLLLLL

user97 i need them to confirm it i love them so much

user21 the way y/n has commented - her account is priv but there's over 1,000 posts HOW MUCH OF IT IS SEB PLS GIVE US THE CONTENT

ynleclercpriv i don't kiss and tell xoxo

charles_leclerc

liked by ynleclercpriv, sebastianvettel and 1,304,778 others

charles_leclerc: congratulations on officially joining the leclerc family seb!! thank you for putting up with me and i expect great birthday and christmas presents xx

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sebastianvettel of course you spoiled this, i love you but you are an unfortunate by-product of my relationship with y/n

user23 CONFIRMATION

pierregasly CHARLES NO

danielricciardo CHARLES NO

landonorris CHARLES NO

maxverstappen1 CHARLES NO

ynleclercpriv YOU FUCKING MORON CHARLES I'M LOCKING YOU OUT

sebastianvettel

liked by charles_leclerc, ynleclercpriv and 2,134,677 others

sebastianvettel: happy engagement to the love of my life, your brother may have spoiled it, but i'm prepared to deal with his annoying ass if i get to be with you for the rest of my life. you make life worth living and i can't wait to explore the world with you x

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user39 when will it happen for me god?

charles_leclerc I'M SORRY I LOVE YOU GUYS THOUGH

maxverstappen1 bagsy flower boy

danielricciardo pleasse let me plan the stag

aussiegrit congrats seb!!

christianhorner congratulations seb and y/n

ynleclercpriv i love you so so so much seb, i'm so glad i met you. you've changed my life and finally showed me what love truly means x

note: omg this post has posted so many times unfinished im gonna lsoe my mind

#f1 instagram au #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 imagine #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel instagram au #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel

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leclsrc · 8 months

Note

a charles drabble with love language/s pls.... its all i want its all i have ever wanted

real love baby – cl16

You express love differently, but it’s love all the same.

genre: fluff

auds here... i hope you enjoy it! this is a scheduled post – my brain is so wonky and i absolutely needed to get back into writing before my hands atrophied and i wasted away into dust …. so i worked on a months-old req that i previously scrapped. am i happy w this? well i’ll answer that honestly and say

It happens first when you’re still friends.

Charles gets off a late meeting that’s wormed its way into the late hours of night, costing him hours of rest or training, and the paddock is empty save for staff members setting up for Sunday. He’s still got Sauber merch slung over his arm when he clicks on his car keys—when the lights flash, he notices a shadow by an adjacent car. “Hello?” He calls out, apprehensive. They let anyone into the area these days.

“It’s me,” says your voice, amused at the clear nerves his voice exhibits. “Why’re you leaving so late?”

“I couldn’t leave without making sure everything was set for tomorrow.” There are circles under your eyes, obscured by the lens of your glasses, the ones you wear when you’ve been staring at text or a screen for hours too long. You work a lot in the crux of a season, coordinating investors for Mercedes and making sure money is where it’s supposed to be every single day. “We’re getting budget breach accusations.”

“I planted them,” he jokes half-heartedly, leaning his side against the trunk of your car. You laugh, rolling your eyes. It’s not the funniest joke in the world—it wouldn’t pass at all if he did that at an open mic—but something makes it easy to do so, to throw your head back and affirm his attempt at comedy.

Charles is so tired—from driving in the morning and results in the afternoon to a meeting that lasted hours and discussed basically his entire fucking future—but he enjoys having you laugh at something he’s said. He doesn’t really know why, just savors the way your necklace glints in the dim light of the parking lot and the leftover lighting from the paddock several metres away.

“Funniest joke I’ve heard in a while,” you say mutely, sarcastic. Your car is on but you’re not getting in.

“Does Henry not entertain you with jokes of his own?” He asks lightly, smiling. “Henry? Harry? Or is he busy with… what was it, an online rap career?”

“Harvey.” You’re not laughing, and in fact displaying some expression that’s half amusement/disappointment, but he can spot the beginnings of a smile on your lips. “You knew that. And he’s not an online rapper.” Anymore, you leave out.

“Oh, that’s good. Was worried he was out to get Drake’s career.” You raise a hand to threaten him playfully, a genuine laugh escaping your lips. Your teeth flash and your eyes crinkle and his head doesn’t hurt so much anymore. “Appreciate the jokes while you still can,” he says anyway. “My migraines lately have made me very sluggish.”

You blink, reaching into your patterned handbag and producing a tiny bottle of Advil. “Take it,” you tell him, lips pursed. “Can’t have this year’s best rookie having chronic headaches.” You push it into his hand and smile tightly.

“Thanks,” he stutters, his throat dry. “I’ll see you around. With Harvey, maybe. You could introduce us.”

“Hah. Not sure that’s something I’d… I’d really want,” you dismiss quietly, watching him round the space to open his car. Louder, you add, “Let me know when you’re okay.”

He looks at you then downward. Then at you again, smile on his face. “I will.” He raises the Advil and gives it a shake. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” you say, grinning.

—

The next time it happens (the next time you can both remember well, at least) you’re in the sweet little in-between of being friends and something else. He calls it his courting stage; you, your begrudgingly allowing it stage. At that point things had gone awry with Harvey, since he’d decided to jump back into his pursuit of Soundcloud fame.

“Hey.” You duck into the gym room, your head just in between the door and the frame. Seb sees you, bumps his teammate to catch his attention further; Charles jogs to you and leans against the wall, crossing his arms to hear you continue. “I’m leaving early today. No money issues.” You nod squarely. “Parce que I stole the funds.”

“I warned you. If you keep talking about embezzlement I’m going to have to kiss you,” he whisper-jokes, smiling.

He watches you hide a laugh, visibly flustered and stuttery, and he swears his chest hurts from how much it affects him, how strong his attraction is to you. He’s almost terrified of it, comforted only when you open your mouth to respond: “Are you gonna be in early tonight?”

“I, uh—” He turns to Seb. “We’ll be done in an hour, but I’m driving so I’ll wait around ’til later. Just… I’ve been too sore to properly get these moving for long so I need to rest for a bit.” He wiggles his arms and fingers. “It’s, well. The price you pay for being very muscular.”

“Jokes write themselves with you,” you scoff, cocking your head. “Okay, then. Um—I’ll see you.”

An hour later he leaves to take a piss and dick around while waiting for the dull ache at the nape of his neck to relax, and instead finds you in the Ferrari motorhome, close to sleeping. Your eyes snap open when they hear the pad of his sneakers against the floor. “Oh.”

“Oh?” He smiles, his heartstrings tugging. “What’s… what are you doing here?”

“Waiting.” You mirror his expression with quiet grace. “I can drive you back, Charles. It’s—you shouldn’t be driving yourself in this condition. I got Andrea to drive your car to your hotel.”

Despite his protests, he does end up becoming the passenger, and by extension the navigator and deejay, queuing up songs for you both to sing along to. In the unfamiliarity of the city and the dull exhaustion seeping into his bones, though, he’s asleep to a Police song before long. His hand rests softly on the centre console.

At the red light right before the hotel, you interlock your pinkies to wake him up. “Mmmff?”

“We’re near,” you notify, smiling at his sleepy expression.

“Thank you,” he yawns. Then for good measure, “Didn’t know I was in such good hands.”

“You ever gonna stop with the jokes?” You ask amusedly, turning right.

“Not if they make you laugh.”

“They do,” you murmur, fond. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” he says quietly, holding your hand fully.

—

Life became a blur of little moments like those after that night.

Sure touches, words of assurance from Charles; little deeds from you. Whispered in French or Italian or English while he wrapped you in an embrace on bad days. A spout of cheers on the better ones. A water bottle with a Post-it: Finish before noon!!! when he’d gone to bed mouthing off about being thirsty. A cup of coffee on the counter the way he liked it on days you both had the time.

Sometimes it would switch: that time you were sick and he showed up to the Mercedes motorhome, Evian and meds in hand every six hours to make sure you were up to sched with your cold medication. That time you wrote him a letter for your third anniversary and watched him wipe tears off his face before he even made it halfway. Another time he organised your flat’s entire bookshelf according to all your standards (only to ask you to move in a week later and redoing the organisation at his place). And another time you gave a speech on Charles at a gala and he accepted the award, again, tearily.

But every action, every word, every joke, every hug, has always been motivated by love. The kind of tender love, that was unfamiliar in the same way it felt so much like home. The kind of love you read about or your parents would send you off to sleep talking about. Love so foolish, but so sure—neither of you have ever needed to doubt for a second. The kind of love so big it should be confusing, but you’ve both come to find it’s anything but, that you always seem to be on the same page, or at least capable of getting there. Closeness, intimacy, friendship—that’s all it’s ever been.

And everything, punctuated with the same sentiment, the same words, ever since the first time:

“Thank you,” he says in one breath, his voice heavy with love, with overwhelm. “Thank you, thank you.” He finds your ring finger and slides the diamond atop it.

“Anything,” you say, smiling in-between kisses, “anything for you.”

#f1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc drabble #f1 x reader

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bookish-whore · 9 months

Text

Haunted

Azriel x Reader

Words: 3k

Warnings: Descriptions of sexual assault, violence, discussions and flashbacks to SA

A/N: this one is a request sent to me by the lovely @ominisgoldie I hope it is everything you wanted and more, I had the most wonderful time writing it.

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

“Come on dear, give us a twirl” her voice crooned

I spun, trying to use my hands to cover my exposed breasts from the prying eyes of the fae gathered here but my efforts were in vain as a tall male approached me, a set of irons in his large hands.

I frantically met the violet eyes of my friend, my one protector in this place and his wild look told me that she was in no mood for games tonight. she was out for blood.

“Please Amarantha, m-my queen I- I don’t know anything” I screamed retreating the few feet I could to escape the male approaching me.

“We’ve been over this dear, this isn’t about you” she sneered from her throne “Loras, you may continue with your assigned task.”

“NO” I screamed “PLEASE”

Loras quickly approached me, shoving a piece of fabric in my mouth. Amarantha hated to hear me screaming the last time she said it spoilt her fun. He made quick work securing me to the wall my arms over my head, so I was unable to fight back.

I took a deep breath, a familiar darkness entering my consciousness that told me Rhys was in my mind “Y/n it’ll be okay, I’m here, I am with you. I promise he will suffer for this.”

“I can’t Rhys, not again” I said back my eyes pleading with his to end my suffering, to kill me or break my mind so I wouldn’t need to face the guilt of what was going to happen.

“You are so strong y/n, she cannot break you, you will make it back to him. I promise”

I closed my eyes, listening to the soft clinking of metal as Loras and another male closed in on me. I could smell his breath, rotten like decay as he leaned in close, his accomplice prying my legs open as he lined himself up with me. I squeezed my eyes tighter hoping that it would lessen the pain if I refused to watch.

“Come on darling, show me those pretty eyes while I take you” Loras said

I jerked awake in bed, the events of my captivity fading from my mind as I tried to regulate my breathing. The same phrases repeating themselves on a loop in my head:

I survived, she was dead, I was safe now, I was home. I survived, she was dead, I was safe now, I was home. I survived, she was dead, I was safe now, I was home. I survived, she was dead, I was safe now, I was home.

As my room settled around me, and my heartbeat returned to its normal rhythm, I knew exactly what I needed, and where I needed to be. I threw on my dressing gown and without a second thought I made my way up the stairs to the rooftop. I pushed the door open quietly, my senses picking up the familiar scent of rain and citrus. He was here, he was always here.

“Fancy some company” I called out alerting him to my presence.

“From you?” Rhys said not bothering to look behind him “Always.”

I made my way to the edge of the roof where he sat perched, his wings relaxed behind him. He patted the space beside him, and I quickly took my seat. He passed me a bottle of dark liquid, no doubt from his personal collection knowing that I needed my senses to be dull at this time of night, especially after the nightmares.

“The same?” Rhys asked finally looking over at me.

“Yep” I answer “you?”

“Mhmm” he agreed.

A few moments of silence passed between us.

“Azriel’s worried you know” Rhysand finally says grabbing the bottle back, before taking a long drink from the deep amber liquid.

“I know” I reply softly looking down at the sparkling city lights below “I just don’t know how to separate him from everything else, in my head I know that he loves me, that he would never hurt me but when he touches me it just instantly takes me back there, back to her games”

“Have you told him anything about under the mountain?”

“I don’t know how to tell him Rhys, I mean how do you even start that conversation ‘hey please promise you still love me even though I was repeatedly unfaithful to you because I was drugged and forced to please various men for Amarantha’s entertainment’ he’ll never look at me the same way and I don’t know if I can take that kind of rejection”

“You’re mates, all you have to do is let him in, let him see. y/n I have known him for centuries and there is nothing you could tell him that would make him love you any less”

“I’ll talk to him soon, I swear I just-” I grabbed the bottle from his hand taking another gulp, the burning sensation numbing my senses “I just need more time”

“I of all people am not rushing you, nor am I saying Az is entitled to know what happened before you’re ready. What I am saying is that of all people he is the most qualified person to help you and it is killing him that he can’t” Rhys said

“Do you think the bond is enough” I asked quietly

“Enough for what” he asked.

“To fix all the broken parts of me” I said, the tears I was holding in freely falling.

“Hey, hey, hey” he said softly, attempting to soothe me “there is nothing broken about you. you are a survivor and I know if you gave Az a chance, he would tell you the same.”

“How can you be sure?” I said wiping my face with my hands “would you be able to forgive me?”

“Would you forgive me?” he asked

“For what?” I asked

“For not doing enough” he admitted solemnly

“You did everything you could given the situation” I took his hand in mine “Rhys you endured for decades as her personal pet to protect everyone back here and you were there for me in every way you could be.”

“If only you could give yourself the same grace you give others”

“I know that he has an idea of what happened, and I’m sure that his imagination might be worse than what actually happened but would confirming his suspicions really help? Or would he look at me like I was a stranger. Could he still love me knowing what h-happened to me?”

“Only one way to find out” he said.

Rhysand winnowed me to Azriels apartment, well rather the street leading to his apartment. After we talked for a while, he told me that I should try to do this but still gave me the option of running away.

I anxiously wrung my hands together as I walked the familiar steps up to what used to be our apartment. The memories came flooding back of all the excitement I felt moving in here with him, accepting the mating bond and all the nights spent whispering our future plans to each other, the fights we had over paint colors and how he broke my favorite bowl. but that was before, and could he still love who I was now? Who I had become to survive that place and its tortures?

Standing here I debated my options then I nervously rapped my knuckles against the door.

What the hell was I doing? I thought suddenly realizing he was probably dead asleep considering it was well past midnight.

As I turned to leave, my resolve disintegrating with the effects of the alcohol, I heard the sound of the lock turning and the door opening. I quickly spun around, coming face to face with a very disheveled looking shadowsinger. My heart swelled in my chest at the sight of him.

“Hi” I croaked, my throat suddenly dry at the thought of sharing everything with my mate

“Sweetheart?” he asked running a hand through his hair “A-are you hurt? Is everything alright?”

“I- I didn’t mean to wake you, and now that I’m here it seems so ridiculous. I- I should go” I spun on my heel, practically running down the stairs that led back to the street.

“Y/n wait!” he called after me, I heard the loud flap of his wings as he flew into the air, landing directly in front of me, halting me in my tracks his arms grasping my shoulders to keep me still, in his panic he didn’t mean to touch me and rationally I knew that, but my body was instantly revolted by his touch and my reaction was out of my control.

“NO!” I screamed “PLEASE NOT AGAIN”

I collapsed into a ball on the sidewalk, retreating from his touch, unable to control the tears that streamed down my face or the fear that pulsed through my veins.

“Please y/n, j-just let me- fuck- just let me help you” he pleaded, his shadows swirling anxiously around us as he fought every instinct driving him to comfort me. “Please come inside, you don’t have to say anything. I just- I just need to know that you’re safe.”

I reluctantly accepted and stood wiping the dirt from my bottom as I made my way back up the steps. He followed behind me, careful not to touch me as we walked into the space. Everything was eerily the same as the day I was forced to leave it.

“Can I get you some tea?” Azriel asked tentatively.

I nodded “I’ll take-

“Black with two sugars and milk?” he said instinctively, cutting me off, his eyes met mine and were frantic like his interruption would send me running back to the townhouse.

“That would be perfect” I said with a reassuring smile that I know didn’t meet my eyes

His back turned to me, his wings tense as he started the kettle and got our usual mugs prepared. It only took a few minutes before he was approaching handing me my favorite cup with my tea exactly how I liked, I set it on the table in front of where I was seated on the sofa and he took the seat opposite me, also placing his mug on the coffee table while it cooled.

“You look- better” he said softly “T-than I last saw you, I mean.”

“I feel better than the last time you saw me” I replied my voice hoarse from screaming earlier

I was worried he would interrogate me immediately about why I was here at this hour of the night, but instead we sat in silence, but somehow it didn’t feel tense. He was waiting to see what pieces of my fractured soul I would offer up eager to take whatever I could give him.

“I know you’re probably wondering why I’m here” I finally said

“This is your place too y/n, whether or not you currently stay here you are always welcome. No excuse needed”

“Az- I- I came here tonight with the intention of telling you some things, about what happened while I was- while I was gone”

“You don’t need tell me y/n, not unless you’re ready” Azriel said softly

“The thing is Az, I want to tell you. I want to tell you more than anything I just- I just don’t know how to get the words out without you hating me, or- or looking at me differently”

“There’s nothing you could have done that would change my opinion of you.”

“Don’t say that” I begged

“It’s true” he said desperately, I managed to meet his gaze, as I stared into those beautiful hazel eyes that had seen all my scars and loved me anyways I strengthened my resolve. He deserved the truth.

“Don’t say that until you’ve seen everything”

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, searching for the bond. It had been so long since I felt the effects of the mating bond, the glowing rope that connected our very souls. As I searched my mind for the familiar pathway back to him a pit formed in my stomach, I was nervous to tell him, nervous for his reaction. But regardless of the outcome this was a step towards healing, for me. I found the string in my mind, deconstructing the mental barriers that had shielded Azriel from our connection and with a thought, I tore it down.

Azriel gasped suddenly, breaking the silence between us.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that I- I can feel you again” he said softly grasping at his chest where his heart is, I felt a rush of emotion, it was comforting and familiar, like coming home after a long time away.

“I can feel you too” I whispered tears glistening in my eyes.

“I don’t think I can tell you what happened” I said softly “b-but I can show you.”

“I just want you to know that you don’t have to y/n” Az said “you being alive, being here…it’s enough- it’s enough for me”

“I know Az- but I want to. I need to. I need you to know what I went through and why it’s going to take a long time for me to be okay again”

“okay” he agreed “If you’re ready.”

I took a deep breath, unlocking the mental door that kept all my memories from Under the Mountain at bay, and I imagined myself walking through it taking him along with me. I held his hand as I showed him the early years of torture. The starvation, the beatings, the general cruelty that came with Amarantha’s abuse, but as we walked further into the recesses of my memory the images became darker. The first time she drugged me and forced me to dance naked on every male under the mountain, how she would let her favorites have their way with me whenever they pleased. How she would force Rhys to watch knowing that I was a friend of his from the outside word.

I felt him tense through the bond, rage and despair flowing through the bond as he watched the last assault, the one that gave me nightmares, the one that left me injured and unable to speak for weeks.

I brought us back to reality, and noticed the way he wiped the tears from his eyes, trying to hide the effect my memories had on him, but it was like a dam breaking and before I knew it his head was between his knees as his body was wracked with sobs, his shoulders and wings shaking with the force of his grief.

I slowly inched over to where he sat, until our knees were almost touching. almost.

“Az-” I said softly, my hand bringing his chin to my level.

“I shouldn’t be the one breaking down here, I should- I should be comforting you but how can I? How can I help you? C-can I touch you?” he begged “Please- I-I just want to hold you”

I shook my head “Az- I know in my head that it’s you, and that you would never hurt me but somewhere along the way the signals get twisted and I’m back there, with her…with them and I just can’t figure out how to stop it.” I met his tortured gaze “All I want is for you to hold me and tell me it’s going to be alright but-” I choked back a sob “I don’t think it is”

“Hey- hey- listen to me y/n” Azriel said getting to his knees on the floor in front of me, but still maintaining enough distance that we didn’t touch. “You are my mate, my love, my life, my very reason for existing. If you need time, I’ll give you an eternity so long as through it all I can stand by your side. I could go the rest of my life not touching you so long as your heart is beating. I waited a thousand years to know you, and if I must spend another thousand getting to know who you now; then so be it. Time is nothing to me, it means nothing to me…you mean everything to me and I will spend the rest of my life making sure that you know that.”

I couldn’t stop the tears that flowed down my face at his confession. I had been so sure that he would be revolted, that he would want nothing more to do with me, that I was tainted but I was wrong.

“So, you still love me” I managed to choke out meeting his hazel eyes, emotion swimming in them.

“Until the stars are a whisper of dust in the sky, Until the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, until the oceans run dry and ramiel is carried away like a leaf in the wind. There is no part of you that I do not see that I do not love; that I would not worship if you let me.”

I flung my arms around him, needing to feel the steady beat of his heart to know that this was real. That I was safe. He didn’t dare move a muscle; his body frozen as I clung to him desperately. “You can hold me,” I said softly, without a second thought his arms wrapped around me finding their place as I sunk into his lap. He brought his hand to cup the back of my head and simply held me while I cried, while I released the tidal wave of emotions I didn’t realize I was holding in. he pressed a delicate kiss to my temple while he sent feelings of love and reassurance down the bond.

And finally, after five decades I was home.

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

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#acotar series #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #rhysand x reader #request

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risenwrites · 5 months

Text

Title: The Important Question

Pairing: Boyfriend! Sanji X Girlfriend! Reader

AU: Modern Day

Warnings: Slight angst if you squint, mainly fluff, french words (I used Google translate pls don’t come at me), reader is kinda clueless, pet names (my love, darling, etc.)

A/n: This is for the Loverboy Sanji Event that @stephisokay is hosting! (I hope it's okay I tagged you fhdjskfks)

Word Count: ~2.6K

Status: Semi-edited

Snow had already been falling for a couple of hours when you reached the apartment complex Sanji lived in. You stood at the base of the stairs, shivering in the frigid air despite your warm coat. You gently rubbed your palms together before sticking them in your armpits as you began climbing the staircase. With each step, your mind drifted back to earlier that day when Sanji texted you out of the blue.

His text said there was something important he wanted to talk about at his apartment tonight and that you should wear something nice. You had tried to ask him over text what he wanted to talk about, but he never responded. You’d gotten texts like that with previous boyfriends, which ended with a breakup each time. Deep in your heart, you feared tonight would end the same way.

When you reach the floor of Sanji’s apartment, you quickly rush over to his front door. You were eager to get inside to be warm but hesitated to knock on his door. Fear crept into your mind from the thought your boyfriend might break up with you. You loved him, probably more than you’ve loved anyone before.

You quickly shake your head to push away those thoughts. Pressing your lips together, you take a deep breath and then knock on the door. Within seconds, the door opened to show your boyfriend’s smiling face and curly eyebrows. Seeing his face instantly chased away all your fears and anxiety about what he might want to discuss. A smile spread across your face as he gently took hold of your hands.

“Y/n, my love!” he greeted, peppering your face with kisses, making you giggle. “Come in, come in!”

Sanji gently pulled you inside, grinning ear to ear as he closed the front door. The smell of food and cigarette smoke filled your nose, warming your heart and soul. You were about to turn toward your boyfriend, but he started taking off your coat before you could do or say anything.

“Thank you, Sanji,” you said while facing him, an even bigger smile on your face.

“It’s always my pleasure, my darling,” he said lovingly while hanging up your coat.

As he finished hanging up your coat, you stomped your feet a little to remove the snow on your shoes. You briefly looked him over, noticing how he wore one of the more fancy suits he owned, whereas you were wearing something nice but much more casual. Immediately, you began to feel a bit underdressed.

“Hey, did you want me to wear something more… fancy?” you asked hesitantly.

Sanji looked at you, his eye widened in surprise. He blinked a few times before panic flashed across his face, and he fully turned toward you. “No, no! You look wonderful, my love! I’m sorry, I should have said more than just nice in my text,” he apologized while holding your hands.

“If you want, I can change into something else so you don’t-” he began to explain, but you quickly cut him off by giving him a quick kiss.

“No, it’s fine, really. Don’t change because I am underdressed,” you told Sanji with a small smile. “Especially with how dashing you look in this suit.”

Sanji let out a small breath while he stared at you, relaxing from the panic rising within him. Your heart skipped a beat from seeing the genuine love and admiration in his gaze.

“For the record, you never look underdressed. Everything you wear only makes you look more beautiful than you already are,” Sanji said with a grin slowly appearing.

Light pink dusted across your face, and you chuckled shyly, looking away with a happy smile. Part of you wondered how you found such a wonderful man, while another part gushed over how cute he is.

“A-anyway, what’s the fancy clothes?” you asked to change the subject.

Sanji’s face lit up, and he let go of your hands to place one on the small of your back. “Let me show you,” he said.

He led you through his familiar apartment, bringing you to the living room. Your eyes widened in surprise as you glanced around the room. All the furniture had disappeared, probably moved to another room. White and golden fairy lights were strung up on the walls and across the ceiling, making the room slightly dim but still lit enough to see. A little square table sat in the middle of the room, two fancy seating arrangements opposite each other. In the center of the table was a simple vase with a beautiful red rose inside.

Without hesitation, Sanji led you to the table and pulled out one of the chairs for you to sit. “I hope you came with an empty stomach, my darling! I’ve got something special planned for dinner tonight!” he explained while smiling at you.

You stared at Sanji for a moment, utterly dumbfounded by how much work he’d put in for a dinner he never told you he planned. You’d have dinner with him often, but this was completely over the top for a simple dinner. Sure, you’d always known how much of a romantic Sanji could be, but he’d only ever done something like this on special occasions. You couldn’t think of any holidays or special dates that could have made him want to set up something like this. Did this have something to do with what he wanted to talk about?

“Um... earlier today, you texted me, saying you wanted to talk about something?” you asked while moving to sit down.

His visible eye widened, and a light pink dusted on his cheeks as he chuckled. “R-right, that’s something we can talk about when we eat dessert,” he quickly said while pushing your chair in. “I’ll be right back with our food!”

Sanji kissed the top of your head and then walked off into the kitchen. You frowned slightly and leaned your cheek against your fist. With all the thoughts of a possible breakup gone from your mind, you wondered what Sanji might want to talk about. A small part of you hoped what he wanted to discuss had something to do with your future together, but you quickly dismissed the thought. He’d always change the subject when you tried to bring it up in the past. There had to be something else he wanted to talk about. You just needed to wait and see.

Soon, he returned holding two dinner plates with covers, like something you’d see in a fancy restaurant or other fine dining. He carefully placed one down in front of you and gave what you assumed to be a wink (you couldn’t be sure with his left eye covered by hair). He placed the other plate opposite you, where you assumed he would be sitting.

“May I present to you…” Sanji began with a cheeky grin, “Pâtes Épicées Aux Fruits de Mer!”

Sanji lifted the metal covers to reveal bowls of pasta covered with marinara sauce, the smell of spices and shrimp rushing up your nose. A smile spread across your face as you recognized the dish without asking him to repeat himself in English. Your stomach rumbled, and you giggled softly while looking at your boyfriend.

“Wouldn’t it have been easier to just say ‘Spicy Seafood Pasta’?” you asked.

Sanji chuckled and pecked you on the lips, causing you to giggle again. “And where would be the fun in that, hm?” he questioned with the rise of one of his curly eyebrows. “Let me put these in the kitchen, and then we can start eating.”

Once Sanji had put the metal covers in the kitchen, he sat across from you at the table. You both began eating the food he had made, which tasted amazing as always and chatted about how today had been for both of you. Most of that was Sanji complaining about men who came to The Baratie with their girlfriends and men who went to the restaurant to flirt with women non-stop.

“I swear to god that all men are pigs! You should have seen some of these guys. They were totally making the other customers uncomfortable with how they were talking to the fine young ladies dining at the restaurant. All of these men were absolutely swooning, and I mean swooning, to get the attention of our lady customers. Don’t get me started on how they stare like starved animals. Men have absolutely no respect for women these days,” he explained, eyebrows furrowed while he scowled.

Your hand flew up to cover your mouth to ensure no food came out while you laughed. All the frustration and irritation Sanji had melted away, his expression relaxing as he smiled.

“What’s so funny?” he asked while taking a bite.

You swallowed the food in your mouth and then chuckled. “I just find it funny how you’re saying that since you acted similarly before and when we first started dating,” you explained with another chuckle.

Sanji’s eye widened, and his face immediately turned bright red. “Dats not-” he started saying but stopped to swallow the food he had just put in his mouth. “That’s not the same! Besides, I was only trying to show my appreciation for women! I-I never swooned like those pigs!” he argued while the red spread to his ears.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little bit more, finding your boyfriend adorable from getting so flustered. “Oh yeah? If I remember correctly, you were always swooning to get the attention of any woman you met,” commented with a giggle. “But I guess you still do that now, even though we’re dating.”

Sanji’s body went rigid momentarily, and he became quiet after hearing your comment. The smile on your face immediately disappears, and you put your utensils down to reach across the table and hold your boyfriend’s hand.

“Hey, did I go too far with the teasing?” you asked worriedly.

He quickly shook his head and looked you in the eyes while squeezing your hand gently. It was his turn to chuckle as he caressed the back of your hand with his thumb.

“No, it’s just…” he began but trailed off like he was looking for the right words.

“It’s just… what?” you asked.

Sanji looked into your eyes, catching your breath in the back of your throat. He seemed so serious yet simultaneously filled to the brim with love and adoration. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight.

“It’s just I can’t imagine why you’d think I’d be vying for the attention of other women when I already have the most beautiful woman in the world,” he explained as a smile returned.

Your eyes widened, and it was your turn for your face to turn red. You gently squeezed Sanji’s hand before pulling away to pick up your utensils. “You’re such a flirt,” you softly state with a small smile.

“I’m only telling the truth, my darling,” he said with his smile becoming a grin. “No one could ever match the radiance you have.”

You swore your face looked redder than the marinara sauce in the food. Still, you giggled softly while finishing off the last of your food. When you looked up, you noticed how Sanji’s eye widened while he seemed to become extremely nervous yet excited. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, finding it strange how he suddenly became anxious when he’d just been flirting with you.

“Uh, are you done eating, my love?” he asked after a moment.

When you nodded, he quickly stood up and took the empty plates into the kitchen. Soon, he returned with two new dishes with metal covers. You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head to the side while he placed the two covered plates down. You saw Sanji’s hands trembling for the first time since you started dating him years ago. Worry bubbled up to the surface, and without hesitation, you gently took hold of his hand and looked up at him.

“Is everything alright? I’ve never seen you this anxious before. Not even when we’ve run into your family,” you said with a slight frown.

Sanji blinked a few times and looked down at you. He was quiet momentarily before a wide smile spread across his face, and he chuckled. Gently, he placed his hand on your cheek, rubbing his thumb against your skin.

“Yeah, everything is great. I promise you don’t need to worry,” Sanji told you before taking his hand off your face. He took a deep breath while grabbing the metal cover on your plate. “y love, here is your dessert,” he said softly while lifting the metal cover.

It took you a minute to realize what was in front of you on the plate. There sat a single piece of cheesecake with a beautiful ring on top with a few fruits. A ring with a diamond. At that moment, you felt your heart skip a beat, seeing the beautifully simple arrangement on the piece of cheesecake.

You watched with wide eyes as Sanji picked up the ring from the cheesecake. He used a napkin to clean off the bits of the dessert still on the ring, then got down on one knee beside you. His curly eyebrows were furrowed slightly, a serious yet nervous expression on his face. Slowly, he lifted the ring up to you, showing off a beautifully simple design on the ring with a diamond in the center.

“Y/n l/n, will you make me the happiest man in the whole world, spend the rest of your life with me, and marry me?” Sanji asked, his eyes locked with yours.

The whole world seemed to disappear around you, even yourself, leaving only Sanji. You committed everything about him at this moment to memory, from his curly eyebrows to the fancy suit he wore to the mixed smell of spices and cigarette smoke. He looked nervous yet hopeful like he thought there was a chance you might say no, but at the same time, he assured himself that you would say yes.

Tears began building up in your eyes as you placed a hand over your mouth. How could he ever think that you would say no to him? After all the time spent together, all the memories made, all the ups and downs, he was still unsure if he was worthy of your love. Just like how you were with his love. You threw your arms around his neck and held him close without hesitation.

“Yes! A million, no, a billion times yes!” you exclaimed happily, a bright smile appearing on your face.

You could feel Sanji let out a sigh as he wrapped his arms around you. He held you close and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. You could feel the happy smile on his face as he gently pressed his lips against your neck.

“God, I love you so much it hurts,” he whispered while tightening his hold on you, making you giggle softly.

“Is this what you had wanted to talk about?” you asked, the whole situation still feeling like a dream.

“Yeah, it is. Sorry for keeping it a secret. I just really wanted this to be a surprise. Especially since you’ve wanted to talk about our future together,” Sanji explained.

You shook your head while pulling away from hugging him, which had Sanji pouting a little. You chuckled while gently taking his face in your hands, a happy simple on your face. You placed a gentle, loving kiss on his lips, and he eagerly kissed back with just as much love, if not more.

After a moment, you pulled away and ran a hand through his hair. “Then let’s talk about things while we eat our cheesecake,” you suggested with a laugh.

Sanji grinned and nodded in agreement while resting a hand on top of yours. “Yeah, let’s,” he agreed.

©following works belongs to risenwrites, do not repost, modify, plagiarize, translate, or share on other platforms. comments, likes, and reblogs appreciated!

#risen.writes #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x y/n #one piece sanji #blackleg sanji #sanji #blackleg sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #black leg sanji x you #Loverboy Sanji Collab Event

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kivedreams · 3 months

Text

I WANT YOU. part. I knj.

pair. idol namjoon x f. reader. f. is latina poc.

genre. falling in love, established relationship, romance, marriage

warnings. +18 racism and colorism discussed [this part does not contain smut, but the story is not made for a minor audience] this super delulu coded [pls tell me if i missed anything ]

synopsis; you make my life shine, and I think I also make yours shine or you didn't know how hard a relationship with a famous person would be

word count: 4.7k

A/N: i let my delusions run free with this one, i think ill be four parts.

next part.

Just a the moment you thought the party was dying down they arrived, is not like you hated the idea of having a party, but this week has been hard on you, nothing went exactly as you planned, having your thesis send back two times in a row, draw you down, that thesis was the last thing between you and your PhD, you knew it was going to be hard, but God it really was testing you, of course you were happy for Namjoon today was a big day for him, he was finally releasing the book that he always wanted to publish a full guide on The Joseon era art and its influence in today's korean artwork, Namjoon was really proud of korean artists, so being able to pay homage to them was a big thing for him and for you, because Namjoon happiness was part of your own.

The tight red dress that you were wearing might have been a bit too much, but it was Namjoon’s gift. It might have been tighter because you had put on some weight due to the stress of these months. Going to the gym or doing any type of exercise was the last thing on your mind. You would have been lying if you did not admit that, it was one of the things that were making you feel insecure tonight, your relationship was already hard, nobody believed that Namjoon the first born child of a korean family, the leader of the most successful kpop group and now Namjoon the writer would settle for you, a latin woman of color, that did not appeal to a single one of the korean standards, you weren't insecure by Namjoon’s feelings, but you were insecure on how everyone else feelings and prejudices might influence his decisions, is not like you were desperate for the ring, you really didn't need it, nor were you prepared for marriage, but sometimes it feel like the only thing that could silenced all the voices in your head, all the social media talk, and of course everyone around you.

“Y/N?” He called for you. You were still in the balcony of the apartment, seated in the light brown handmade chair you purchased for the space, with a glass of wine enjoying the Seoul night, a slight breeze, and of course the beauty of the balcony Namjoon and you have crafted together, a lot of plants were everywhere accompanied by artworks and souvenirs that you both had collected through the years, some on your travels together, some alone.

“Yes, darling” you responded looking at him, Namjoon was an extremely handsome man, you loved that haircut in him, and his choice of clothing today was a masterpiece, that beige suit with a purple turtle neck top was a perfect mix. He looked at you with confusion in his eyes, he quickly brushed that look a way and sais,

“My parents are here, they're asking for you” Are they? was the only thing in your mind

You walked to him with a smile taking his hand, to greet them and most of the guest that have arrived since you little rendezvous to the balcony, you were begging that nobody would notice your weight, your thighs were clearly giving a show in that dress, god I hope the concealer is strong enough to cover the sleep bags in my eyes, do I still have lipstick on?

“Y/N!” His father greeted you “You look so beautiful tonight! How is your thesis going? Are you close to the finish line?” His father always looked happy to see you, but was he?

“Mr. Kim! Thank you! And yes I'm close to the finish line, if everything goes as planned, I will be able to present it in a few weeks” You responded with a smile giving him a hug and doing the same with his mother. She always looked at you, at your hair with curiosity? Of course 4B coils were not the norm in Korea, but Korean beauty standards weren't going to pressure you into hating your beautiful hair.

After polite talks and greetings for a whole night with people that were close to both of you, in professional and personal level, the night was over, Namjoon and you finished saying good bye to the last guest and his agent, the night was a success, as you knew it would be, Namjoon never fails to amaze you, you saw him the whole night , moving around and enchanting everyone, you get it, you too were enchanted by him.

Finally being able to get rid of the uncomfortable shoes and the red lace around your waist that made the dress even tighter and letting Namjoon in the living room talking with the service that was in charge of getting everything clean up and tidy again, walking straight to your room, dreaming of the comfort of your bed, you forgot all the things that were placed on top of it, because you didn't trust any of the frail art pieces to be in the open while everybody drank and mingle, with not other option, you moved to the balcony, walking down to the kitchen first taking a glass of wine with you and politely smiling to the service, Namjoon was out of your sight.

Sitting on the cold floor of the balcony letting your hair free from the detailed bun that it was made into, enjoying the silence and peace of the night. You felt empty, maybe too much stress plus the insecurities in your relationship were passing you the bills, in a few months you would be 30, and if you get your PhD granted, working as a full time curator in the national art museum of Seoul, just what you wanted, but was Namjoon on your side for it? you didn't know.

“Babe” He called, putting a blanket on top of you, you did not realize how cold you were until he did so “ Tired? they are almost finishing, our room is ready, lets go”

You looked at him from the floor with your face resting on the wooden bench, giving him a little nod, but your body was not responding to the idea of standing up, maybe you were too tired, maybe it was that third glass of wine, reminding you that alcohol was not your forte.

“Too tired? “ He said lifting you up, you hugged him, getting flooded by his strong musky scent.

Before you could realize it you were already on the bedroom, headlight turn off, the only light in the room coming from the bed stands, Namjoon sat you on the edge of the bed looking at you with curious eyes, his hands on you waist, you could feel his breathing, warmth, “Can we talk in the morning?” you ask, with almost no energy to spare.

“Is everything ok?” he asked back, now with a worried look on his face.

“Yes, I am exhausted, let's talk tomorrow please” you said standing up making your way to the bathroom, trying to unzip the dress off and failing.

“Ok” He said, hugging you from the back, there it was again his scent, it made you feel so calm, at peace.

He started to remove the dress from you, leaving you there exposed to his eyes, and to yours. You could see the reflection in the mirror, how he was hugging you even harder, tighter, Namjoon loved you, you knew that. He started to remove his own clothes, making you move the other side of the sink to remove your makeup.

You heard the water running in the tub, namjoon got close to you naked, “Want to take a bath?”

“No, I’ll take a quick shower and go to bed”

“Ok darling “ He said, kissing your neck. Making you move.

He flicked due to the inspected action “I'm not in the mood to have sex” You said, before he could say anything.

“Is ok, I just want to feel you…” he said with a hurt look, you took a step back using the shower as an excuse. Namjoon was even more confused, because you never rejected physical touch, so it felt as if you were rejecting him, but you weren’t, you just wanted to reject the feeling that you had for him, because it felt like you had everything to lose.

It was around 2AM when you two were in bed together, Namjoon pulled you close, and you couldn't say no, you couldn't do that to him again. Nighttime passed through your eyes seeing the sun rise that sunday morning, you weren't able to sleep just thinking about all the possibilities, weighing your options, you could finish your phd and go back to your country, even though it was useless, jobs for a art history doctor, were not easy to find everywhere, you didn't think that you would be able to continue to live in korea after breaking up with him… the thought made you sob, you couldn't stay in bed anymore, so you quietly stood up, walking to your safe place the balcony.

The living room was like it always use to be everything clean up and in its place, you saw the blanket that namjoon used on you last night perfectly folded, taking it to the balcony with you, a cup of tea to clean your mind and a lonely space for you to cry in peace, and there you were cuddling up in the chair, with the cold morning breeze it was 6AM, but you were crying, because there were no other options for you, you knew, Namjoon would not settle for you, you'll never live up to the standard needed to be his wife, so it was better to finish it now, than wait for later.

Only your cries and the mobile hanging in the side could be heard, so that was it, like that, it was going to be over.

“Y/N?!” He called, and you used all your strength to hide your tears, but of course he noticed.

“Are you ok honey? Talk to me” You could hear the worry in his voice, you really tried to pull back the tears, but seeing him did not help

And there, both of you were, him hugging you and giving you solace, until your crying stopped, and all you could feel was his heartbeat, his hand going up and down comforting you. There he was for you, and you were about to end a 4 year old relationship.

You meet namjoon 7 months into arriving in seoul, while you were doing your master your favorite professor suggested you to pursue a doctorate in Korea, she knew people, she could get you a internship in Seoul’s national museum while you studied, and of course she knew people in HanYang university, you knew she was an important woman in the area, but you sub estimated her contacts and power, and there you were a year later accepted into Hanyang university with a full scholarship and paid internship, you didn't know how, but the rumor that you were there due to nepotism spread all over your department reaching your workplace, while it was true that your professor helped you, the scholarship was won fairly due to your grades and the ingenuity of your master's thesis. It made your work and student life harder, as if the racism and colorism wasn't enough, but of course you weren't there to make friends, you were there to finish your studies and make a name for yourself.

That just made everyone hated you more, your coworkers thought it would be great for you, a newly hire to conduct a private view of a new exposition for a VIP, at that point you did not know if it was the racism, the nepotism rumor or because they did not want to make it themselves; but at the end that's how you met namjoon, of course you knew who he was, you might not been his fan, but you knew what his impact was, the quality of his music, and the power he had. His whole presence made you nervous, but you weren't going to risk your job nor lose the professionalism. He ended up being there because the director invited him to look at the new collection that you direct boss had picked, but he wanted it to be private, he wanted to enjoy it, and that's how the both of you ended up there, sitting on the floor of the museum admiring the work behind the main art piece.

“Now I understand, why he wanted me to look at it in person” he said with a smile “it is magnific, it was worthy escaping from the studio for this”

“I know, art can free you, it's like the whole world shut down for a minute and you can breathe” you said, genuinely happy, because he was really calm and easy to talk to, so you weren't nervous anymore, it was a success.

“Indeed” he said looking at you, you felt the warm in your face because of the way he was looking at you, he stood up and helped you too “It has been a pleasure Y/N, meeting you and the collection, I think now I am supposed to take a photo” You got frozen en place, his voice was deep and raspy, it got you flustered, you came back to your senses

“Y-yes, you do, gimme a minute to look for the camera” You said moving quickly.

You took various photos of him, he looked great in every single one, Namjoon was a handsome man, and on top of that he was so humble and easy, maybe you expectatives where in the low as soon as you heard the world VIP or maybe Namjoon was just different, he made your heart move faster.

While you were tidying up he approached you with a question,

“Y/N would you like to take a photo with me?” it surprised you , but you did not have the ability to say no.

He pulled you close, you didn't know what to do, and he noticed, so he just told you to smile, you did so, but only god knows how you ended up looking in that picture. After that he said his farewell, and you could see his bodyguards getting closer than they were before.

It was such an experience it shaked your life for the next days, you could only think of him and his strong scents, it was so good, like a forest, as the freshness of the summer, Namjoon really did a number on you, you googled half of his life in those days, and started to listing to his music, it was really good, now you understood even more his fame. At the moment that you thought that you were forgetting the flustered feeling that he led on you, he posted it, he posted the photo that he took with you, you had a start sticker on your face, and his caption left you thinking about him even more,

art can free you, the whole world shut down for a minute and you can breathe

Did he post that because of you? Did he?

====================================

It was a normal thursday, you were in the subway on your way to work, thinking about the essay you had due this sunday, it was almost done, but you felt it was missing something, moonchild playing on your airpods. The day promised to be rainy, it always rained in seoul, but not in the sad depressing way it rained in London, Seoul’s rain was calm and nostalgic, sometimes it was full of rage.

You didn't have much to do at work that day, the inauguration of the exposition was a success, you replied to the emails you had, sent some codes and updated the maintenance date of some artworks.

“Miss. Y/N, Mr. Park is asking to see you, if you could go to his office please” the voice caught you by surprise, it came from Mr. Shin, executive assistant of the museum director, the surprise was more in him coming directly to see you instead of sending you an email. Have something happened, did you mess up something…

You colleagues gave you strange and curious looks, it wasn't a normal situation, and their looks worked as a further confirmation.

Walking through the administration hallways behind Mr. Shin, got you nervous, what could've gone wrong why are they calling you, are you fired? no, R.R.H.H would’ve called for that. Mr. Shin led you to the office door and retired, you could not bring yourself to knock at the door scared, but there was no other way of escaping it. You knocked on the door twice, until you heard a deep voice say, “Come in”

You opened the door using all your strength and calm “Good morning Mr. Park, how may I help-

You stopped on your word when you saw Namjoon sitting in the middle of the room, Mr. Park's office was big, two mauve sofas facing each other in front of the big brown desk, and Namjoon was seated in one of them looking at you with a smile.

“Hello ‘Y/N” his deep voice filling the room, “Please sit down’” he said signaling the sofa in front of him

You were frozen in your step, why was Namjoon there? you quickly got back to your senses, and greeted him sitting in front of him, you didn't know if the nervousness was visible, your hands were sweaty, while they rested on your knees.

“I know you got up here thinking you were going to see YoungJo, I am sorry for that, but I did not wanted to make a fuss, hope you understand” you nodded in comprehension, of course it was going to be worse if Kim Nam Joon came calling for you, it was already weird Mr. Park doing so.

“I'm going to be direct, would you like to work for me?” The shock was painted in your face “I want someone to curate some art pieces for my parents house, and for my house too, since our conversation last week, I feel that you would be perfect for it, we share the same art vision”

You couldn't say a word, he was waiting for your response, but since you stood there in silence he continue “Money is not the problem, nor is the time, please name your price and tell me when we can start working together”

“I-I, are you sure? wouldn't you like someone more professional for this? someone with more experience in the area” you muttered, still lacking the words.

“No” he said solemnly “I am not looking for experience or somebody with a name in this, I want you and your fresh views, I read your master thesis, and I know your working in your doctorate, as I said your vision is what I want, it amuse me”

“Can I think about it?” You said, but what was there to think.

“Of course” he said “Here look, this is my personal number, you can call me or add me to Kakao, and my agent number in case I don't respond, but it is unlikely” he handed you both of the cards, looking at your shocked face with a smile. “If someone asks, just tell them that YoungJo confused you with someone else, ok?”

You nodded, still feeling out of place, looking at his almond shaped eyes, he said goodbye and left, letting you there. You slowly stood up, and walked to your department, art acquisitions, as soon as you arrived your coworkers started whispering. You sat down keeping face, when you were about to start working, Anja, who seated next to you asked,

“Hey Y/N what was that about?” with curiosity flooding her face, you smile and said loud enough,

“It was nothing, looks like they were calling someone else and somehow they got to me” you said shrugging your shoulders, resting importance to it, with you saying that the whispering and the looks finished.

The rest of the day was normal, but you still could feel the nervousness in your gut, he read your thesis, and wanted you to help him curate art for his family house and his home, it feel surreal, to good to be truth, but if it was, the opportunity was amazing, Namjoon would become your first private client, the scholarship money was decent, and you pay wasn’t that bad, but you knew that whatever Namjoon would pay you would be enough to pay rent until you found a space in the campus dorms. You weren't sure yet, there wasn't a big reason to say no, but you felt insecure. What if your work does not live up to his expectations?

You arrived home putting those thoughts to rest, working on your assignments and studying your lectures, before you could realize it, it was already past midnight and you knew what you were going to say.

Hello Mr. Kim,

I would love to work with you, please let’s discuss terms and conditions.

Have a great day, “Y/N”

12:51 am

Looking at your phone screen maybe it was too short? but it didn't need any more it was concise, you hit sent, without realizing, that you did not programmed the text message to be sent at 9 in the morning, panicking looking at the screen, until those 3 hell looking dots started blinking,

Amazing, and yes I’ll have a great day ;)

knj

12:52 am

===========================================

And there you were the next day, in front of Namjoon’s workplace building, he asked you to come the next day to discuss the job requirements and pay, you set a 3PM meeting with him, going to the big doors of HYBE ent. you were nervous hand sweating approaching the reception, you'd feel the looks, but is not like you cared anymore, but maybe you should had hided your hair today, everyone at work was already use to it, but this was a new environment, the comfort of your usual places made you forget where you were.

“Hello good evening, I have a meeting” You say approaching one of the well groomed ladies in front of you, she looked you up and down, and say,

“Excuse you?” Your korean might not be the best, but it wasn't bad, now being here for almost 8 months it had clearly improved, you repeated yourself, and then she ‘understood’

“Ok, May I know the name of the person and their department please?” she said with a smirk in her face,

“I don't know his department, the name is Kim Nam Joon” she and the two ladies at her side looked at you like you were a rare species.

“Are you sure of that?” She said with a shuckle, she wanted to laugh, it was clearly on her face.

“Yes I am sure, I wouldn't have come here if I wasn't” you said annoyed.

“Miss please, don't shame yourself in here, please go, or I'll be obligated to call security” the disgusted expression on her face saying everything you needed to know.

“Could you at least call him to verify?” keeping the last strand of politeness you asked.

“No. Please leave or I'll call security” she said standing up signaling the big crystal doors.

You were mad, not knowing what to do walking down to the doors, hearing his laughs and the looks of the people around, until of course your brain reacted, you were a smart girl after all,

Hello Mr. Kim I am already here

2:58 pm

Ok, amazing please come to my studio they'll tell you the floor ;p

2:59 am

I am not being allowed, I went to the front desk and they asked me to go, should I?

3:00 pm

What? why? please dont leave, youre in the lobby right ill come to you

3:00 pm

You read the last text, still being mad but now you knew that namjoon actually wanted you there, you stood close to the door still with some of the looks in you, but they couldn't send you out, you haven't done anything and you could easily say you were going to the store. 5 minutes passed and you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket Namjoon was calling you.

“Hi Y/N? on what side are you?” his voice sounded agitated, as if he had run.

“Hello, yes, I’m close to the doors, I have a white cardigan and a brown plaid scarf”

“I think I see you” and when he said that, you heard the commotion, there he was, his hair looking frizzy, like he had been passing his fingers through it. He had a pale green sweatshirt, a dark brown jacket and light brown trousers.

You heard the call finish, and he was getting closer to you, the people in the lobby were looking at him, and you were too but not with the same eyes. Namjoon looked so hot, he smiled at you, he was happy to see you and that calmed your heart.

“Hello Y/N, I thought you would leave” he said, extending his hand to you, you shaked hands with him.

“I almost did” you said, trying to conceal the discomfort in your voice.

“What happened, why couldn't you come in? it was just a call away” he said smiling to the people around you, you started walking with him and two bodyguards started walking at the sides.

“I explained that to the lady but she did not care to confirm that”

“Who?” the demanding tone clearly in his voice he stopped to look at you, his eyes waiting for an answer

“T-he lady with the ponytail” you mutter, namjoon’s eyes intimidate you.

“Is ok” he said, dragging you to the front desk, “Can I have a visitors pass for MY guest” he was clearly annoyed, and you were too, the face in the lady was priceless, she was between shock and disbelief, until she actually needed to talk,

“C-can I have some form of ID? " she asked, you opened your purse to take your passport, going directly to your work visa.

=========================================

Namjoon drove you to his studio, scanning his face on the door. The hallway to it was beautifully decorated with small and big art pieces, Namjoon really had a great taste, his studio was small but cozy, you could feel how he crafted every space himself, it screamed his whole personality.

“Please sit down” he said and you did so “Before we begin I am obligated to made you sign a NDA, is just protocol” he said sitting in from of you handing you a folder

“Yes, I understand” you said, giving a quick read to the NDA, you signed because it was ok and handed it to him.

“Ok, perfect. Do you want something to drink? I’m making myself a coffee” he stood up waiting for your answer.

“Water would be fine”

“I don't like to beat around the bush Y/N, I want you to pick beautiful and meaningful pieces for me, I would do it myself” he brought a glass of water for you, while holding a cup of smoking coffee “But I am pretty busy right now and I like you, and your style. Your thesis in Seurat, was an enjoyable read, and I feel that your fresh vision would be perfect for what I want” He sat down in front of you taking a sip, you did the same, Namjoon made you nervous, his aura was intoxicating.

“I get it, still, I don't have a full experience curating, I might have the theory but I stick lack the practice” you said being honest

“I'm giving the practice to you, what about 15% for every piece you pick for me? " he said with a smile that made his dimples show up.

You smiled at him “What about 20%?” You smirked.

“25%, do we have a deal?” he put down his cup to look you directly in the eyes.

“W-we do.” you smiled at him nervously due to his gaze.

“You could've said 50% and I would have said yes. I just want you.” He said standing up, giving you his hand, his words made you lose your breath.

=======================

from delululand with love, kive <3

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teaffrogy · 10 months

Text

𝙄 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙧 [König] smut?

Sum: Ghost couldn't sleep yesterday at night from so much noise happening in König's room. So, Ghost confronts him, and [Name]

König x fem reader

Ahead: Oral(Male receiving), smoking weed(do not smoke while working pls), mention of choking. If I miss anything pls tell me :D

Ghost had heard sounds last night that made him not sleep well( which made it mostly worse when he struggles already with his sleep). His room is next to König, the tall(very) Austrian hooded man. He is known for his social anxiety but also known for his amazing skills in the fields. Also for being discussed in the most recent meeting about who should be a colonel. König had been moving around his bed way too much, kicking on the wall, and he also heard another voice other than königs room.

And it wasn't allowed before 10 to have someone else in the rooms. So, being the professional lieutenant he is, called for König and [Name].

"Yes Lt?" You say as you walk inside Ghost's office alongside König. König looks at you and looks down to your chest. That tight string gray shirt looked too good on you, it distracted him.

"I called you two to ask a question." Ghost says, but König was too distracted from what had happened last night. "I heard sounds last night coming from your room König." And his thoughts had snapped. He looks at Ghost and asks, "What are you talking about, Lieutenant?"

Ghost crossed his arms together, he had short sleeved shirt on and you can see his big arms and the one that is tattooed. "I heard you two talk." Ghost says. "It was after 10, the hour you all are supposed to be in bed and be prepared for Tomorrow." Ghost says. "Well, you must have heard things, sir." König says as he also crosses his arms. "I heard you two talk. I know her voice well and yours too."

"[Name] and I?"

"Yes you two."

"We didn't do anything last night, I swear." He says. You stood there as you looked at the wall behind Ghost. You knew you two were in trouble. But König was so calm about it, too. That's what made it so weird.

"We didn't do anything last night."

That was a lie

"So, have you ever smoked before?" One of the crews asked. They decided to do a camp fire yesterday. They got permission to do one since being past the bed hours is a strict rule.

"What type are we talking about?"

"Weed." He says while grinning. "Yeah, of course I have." He says. "I do it from time to time on days off."

"Well, today is your lucky day today." König at first had not decided to go. He wanted to rest in bed or maybe not exactly rest, but just be by himself. But you insisted, wanting to spend some time with him. "There will be a small fire. And I don't want to go alone." Was what you said. And here he is, wrapped around a blanket with you. You were close, very close. He could feel you breathing and the way you moved. He wasn't really interested in the conversation, he was just looking at the fire and enjoying you being beside him.

"Who wants some?" One of them says as they hold out a joint. "I want some." You say as you hold your hand out. König looks at you and sees you hold it. The lighter is pressed on it and you take the first hit. You cough and shake your head as you pass it on to someone else. You get back close to König and he wraps an arm around you. "You want to try it?" You asked.

He has gotten high before, but with an edible he was given to on accident. He thought it was a normal brownie with some good chocolate chips. He ended up having to take the whole day off.

He looks around and nods. He did want to try it. It wasn't as if when he got high from the brownie wasn't the most fun and relaxed day he had. He wanted to feel that again. Soon, the joint was passed on to him. He grabs it and holds his hood up, far from the fire and sucks in. You watched as he did and placed your arm on his thigh. He starts coughing and he hands it to you.

You smile at him and suck in.

It was getting late and the fire was slowly coming down. Some had already left and some left in pairs. The few that left in pairs were you and König. You two went to his room and laughed the way there. You two brought up funny jokes, that were probably horrible if you two weren't as high, and had been laying on his bed. "Your bed is bigger than mine, not fair."

"It's because I am tall. I needed a bigger bed." He says as he gets closer to you. It was clear the tension was high between you two(no pun intended). König wanted to be on top of you and suck on your tits while he fingers you. You wanted to get down on your knees and finally see that tent he always has that you couldn't stop looking at.

You two looked at the ceiling, and that's when you feel König turn to look at you. You turn too and lift up his hood only where you can see his nose and down. He moved his hand to your cheek and caressed it. His hand goes to the back of your head and pushes your head close to his lips. You open your mouth slightly and feel him kiss you. You kiss him back and wrap a leg around him. König moans in the kiss as he holds on to your hips. You pull from the kiss and pant. "I bought something." You grin and pull something out from your back pocket. It was the joint. It was almost done.

"Here." You smile as you put the joint in his mouth and pull out a lighter. You light it up and smile at him. He sits up as you get off the bed and go down on your knees. He sucks and pulls the joint out, his hood falls down and smoke comes out. You smile and lay your head on his thigh. You could see the tent you've always seen, just bigger. You press your head on his thigh and squeeze the other. He looks down at you and pushes your hair behind your ear.

"I want to taste you." You finally say as you press your nose on to his boner. He breathes in and pushes your face, groaning. You look up at him and he nods. You smile and cup his boner. You start to undo his pants and pull them down with his boxers. He helps you by lifting his hips up and his cock springs out, hitting his lower tummy. Your eyes go wide and see just how attractive it looked. The way his cock hung to the side as precum dripped. It needed attention with how red his tip looked, and you were going to give it that attention.

You look up at him and see him hold the joint to you. You put your lips around it and suck on it. You blow the smoke down to his cock and smile as you see it twitch. König pants and caresses your cheek. You lean on his hand and move your hand to his thighs. His thighs are one of the many things you find so attractive about him. They are so big that when he wraps that tight gun holder sting on, it just hugs on it so well that it spills some on the sides. You squeeze on his thigh and he groans. He looks down at you and feels your hand brush up from his keg to finally his cock. König moans and shivers at your touch. "Liebling, bitte." He whines and feels your hand wrap around his cock. It was huge, bigger than your hand. Your hands aren't small and it was amazing how huge his cock was. You squeeze and more precome comes out.

König closes his eyes as he bucks his hips to your hand to get any sort of friction. You smile and rub your thumb on his tip, spearing his precum. You lick your lips and open your mouth, finally putting the tip around your mouth. He gasps and holds his hands up, not knowing where to put his hands on. You breathed in as you pushed more of his cock inside your mouth.

"Ah– just like that my Liebling– fuck" König moans and takes one last drag of the joint and puts it out. He leans on to the wall and puts his hands on top of his head, exhaling as the smoke comes out of his hood. You moan and try to push everything you could in your mouth. He moans and tries his best from pushing your head further. But he felt so relaxed right now, all he could do was enjoy and watch. He closes his eyes and moans as he feels you start to move your head. You moved it up and down, slowly. You didn't want to choke on it just yet, you wanted to taste him, hear his moans and groans and feel him twitch in your mouth.

König moves his hand to your hair and moves it back, helping you from it being in the way. You start to move your bead faster, and he soon hears you start to choke. He moans and looks down to see you try to deep throat. "You got it, Liebling j-just a little m- ahhh- just like that. Good girl." König says and sees you took him all in your mouth. You stay there for some seconds before you go back to bobbing your head back and forth again.

You knew he was starting to get close. His cock was twitching in your mouth and hid moans were getting louder. He looked relaxed and beautiful the way he was. Panting while having his eyes closed. "I-Im coming!" He says as he pushes your head and moans as you feel his warm seed fill your mouth up more. You moan and stay there till he is done. You pull away and feel some of his come drip out of your mmouth. He paints and brushes his thumb on your mouth. "Open." He says and you do so. You pant and stick your tongue out to show all his seed in your mouth. You close and swallow it all up. "Good girl."

"Nothing happened?" Ghost asks, getting you out of your thoughts. König shakes his head. "Nothing?" He asked one last time. This time, I look at you. "Nothing."

"Alright. You two can head out." He says. You nod as you two leave the room. "Good girl." König says as he holds your hip. "Keep it up, and we will have more fun." He says as he walks away, leaving you a hot mess.

I haven't edited. Sorry for the typos :(

Fanfic was inspired by this tik tok

#könig #könig x reader #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #call of duty #cod mwii #könig x you #könig smut #smut #x reader smut

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thetriplets3 · 8 months

Note

can u do prompt 17(i think) from the needing comfort list — ‘you bought me chocolate/flowers’ — with matt plz !! its okay if not ! have a great dayy 🩵

haven't written in a while so hopefully this is good thank you for your request. send some more in

key to my heart

One thing I’ve always loved about Matt is how he will go lengths to make sure feel better and brighten up your darkest days.

Matt’s been by my side for a few years now, he’s the first person I want to tell anything to, a shoulder to cry on, and a comforting presence. When life gets hectic and things gets flipped over Matt is always the one to come and turn your world back around. I never know where I stand with Matt. He does things a boyfriend would do but we’ve never discussed our feeling with each other.

This week was exhausting to say the least. I’ve become the therapist amongst my friends, it’s a blessing and a curse to feel things so deeply. I give my undivided attention to anyone who needs an ear to listen to their problems and give my best advice but at the same time I absorb all their negative energy and I carry their problems. They pass the weight holding them down onto me, quickly slowing me down. That’s the downside to being the one who listens because no one thinks to listen to the listener. They don’t think how heavy it is for one person to hold all that.

I can’t take it anymore, I only have so much room to carry things and it’s filling up quickly. My space is full of others problems and there’s no room for my own thoughts or feeling. So that’s where I am now, curled up under the covers in the dark trying to feel something, anything but everyone’s problems. Turning my phone on do not disturb I see a few messages from Chris covering the ones from Matt.

chris 🍊

please answer us

helloooo??

i know you hate notifications so i know for a fact you’ve seen this

don’t ignore

at least message matt pls he’s worried

love you kid we’re here whatever it is

matt 🥤

y/n

what’s wrong why aren’t you answering any of us?

are you okay? i need to know you’re okay i’m worried

no one has heard or seen you in a few days

i know somethings up this isn’t like you

let me in let me help you

Flipping my phone face down so I don’t have to look at it, I let out a shaky breathe. The silence becomes too much all the stories and problems are all coming forth, shouting and talking over each other. Not knowing how to make it stop I let out a desperate sob wanting nothing more than for someone to listen to me like I do for them. Both mentally and physically exhausted I drifted off into a much needed nap.

My eyes squint open looking at my clock. Only a 40 minute nap. The dryness in my mouth makes me get up to go grab a drink from the kitchen, but not before wrapping a blanket around me.

Slowly and heavy lidded I trudge down the stairs, halting when my eyes meet the island. Flowers. No one’s ever given me flowers before. The thought of how they got in here escapes you, being drawn towards the yellow flowers, my favorite color. Attached to the bouquet is a little note in chicken scratch I could recognize anywhere.

My heart flutters as a pout replaces the empty look on my face. “My favorite” I gasp. A happy sigh leave my lips as I bring the bouquet to my nose to give them a sniff.

“I knew you’d love them” you voice full of love and softness.

“Matt! Holy shit you can’t do that to me” I pant with a hand over my chest.

“Sorry” you say sheepishly.

“You bought me flowers?” I ask softly.

“You told me tulips were your favorite and I thought yellow ones would make you even happier”

“That was 2 years ago I didn’t think you’d remember. I don’t think anyone would remember that” I scoff.

“When you care, you remember. If it’s important to you it’s worth remembering” You say. “You’re worth it”

Placing the flowers on the table I walk towards you. Sensing an impending hug you open your arms and pull me into your chest.

“I know you’re always there for everyone else to let their guard down but you need someone to be there for you. Stop putting up walls let me be that person. Let me in okay I love you and you don't have to feel alone” you say as your one hand rubs circles on my back and the other cradling my head to your chest, immediately bringing me comfort I didn't know I was missing.

“I know. I'll let you in might take a while. I love you Matty" I whisper into your neck.

"We'll work on it I'm here for you"

taglist: @antisocialties @iluvmatt @dwntwn-strnlo @fake-coolbeans @opheliaofficial07 @angelcake-222 @oneirophobic @strniolo @lollibumblebee @ssturniolo @20nugs

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #readers pov

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nalyra-dreaming · 4 months

Note

Hello! Interested in your encyclopaedic knowledge on this. Skim-rereading the VC now for first time since I was a teenager and have to ask - does Louis ever, like - do anything for Lestat? This prompted particularly by TOTBT which my god is so savage. I can’t believe he’s happy to just… let him die?!? He doesn’t lift a finger, he doesn’t even try to protect him? It’s IWTV all over again, only supposedly their relationship is much better by this point.

It got me looking for examples where Louis does anything whatsoever proactive for Lestat and I’m really struggling. At the end of QotD, it seems like lots of the other vamps are trying to look after traumatised Lestat a bit, but I don’t think Louis comes to him? He just wanders off to New Orleans? Maybe I’ve missed a bit though. He looks after him a bit in his coma? Although not moreso than anyone else. But in the end it is Lestat who ends up waking up to save Louis. Even that bit in PLaTRoA where Lestat is about to have his heart stopped - Louis sitting next to his coffin - but Lestat reaches out to take Louis’ hand, not the other way round. Aside from verbally saying that he loves him, other than being generally nice and calm and polite, does Louis ever do anything to show it?

Hey nonny!

(Not sure about the encyclopedic but I‘ll try 😅💕) I do see a lot of the mentioned events a bit differently, allow me to explain (this is gonna be long^^):

Soooo to address your mention of TtotBT first off, I personally do think Louis thought of Lestat first and foremost when he sent him away in that scene.

Louis was tempted. It's no surprise imho that Jacob really wants to do that scene with Sam, because the power dynamics are inverted of course, but it is also emotionally very raw.

I want to pause here and recall a quote from QotD here, which is important:

Louis, the watcher, the patient one, was there on account of love pure and simple. The two had found each other only last night, and theirs had been an extraordinary reunion. Louis would go where Lestat led him. Louis would perish if Lestat perished. But their fears and hopes for this night were heartbreakingly human.

Louis... would perish if Lestat perished.

For Louis to send Lestat away... is to resign himself to death also. I think that has to be taken into account for the scene you mentioned, where Louis decides that Lestat deserves to save his soul, before Louis himself deserves to save his own. His rejection of Lestat there is done in full knowledge that he condemns himself there to a very lonely, cold, and ultimately fatal existence. He rejects Lestat there, knowing he will lose his greatest love.

I wouldn't call that happy to let him die? And I, personally, don't see it as a parallel to IWTV either, though it might feel a bit like that for Lestat, but the Louis here knows how much this will hurt. He knows what he is doing. He is condemning himself, hoping it will free Lestat.

And, while we're on TtotBT, in the beginning of the book there is the mention of Louis coming by Lestat's, to 'Netflix & chill', to share space and spend time, watch movies (for example "Company of the wolves", just being there. Talk. Discuss. Being together. So Louis did come by, for Lestat. And Lestat visited Louis, in his shack, had his own chair there. They were in each other's lives.

And... in the end of that book - when David show's up? What does Louis do? He takes David in. Makes room for David in their old home in Rue Royale. Accepts David - for Lestat. Accompanies them, too. Honestly, given David is David... that is a HUGE sacrifice! He let's David, the new fledgling, into their home. Because he is Lestat's. Later on, in PL, he will do the same for Antoine, which is obviously something that had to grate quite a lot as well, and I have always seen that as a rather conscious decision to allow it. To allow Antoine into their lives, because he is Lestat's.

Louis also tries to protect Lestat before the concert.

I know a lot of people read that from Lestat's POV and are just happy with the reunion (and of course it is beautiful and I really want to see it on the show!!) but... it's not only that.

Louis comes, to Lestat, not only because he can do so. But he pleads for Lestat to stay safe, too, to not do the concert. Because he is afraid for Lestat. He wants to keep him safe, wants to keep him with himself, too. He pleads with him not to go on stage. Offers to talk, to make plans, to 'Let us have each other in this century the way we never did in the past'.

You mentioned the end of QotD, and... in their universe, all that happens right after this reunion. A few days, a week at most. And then Lestat hides himself away again, in a room, trying to cope. Because he has been used again, abused, too, in a way he himself can only cope with by reframing it as love.

Louis knows it isn't. Wasn't. And he knows that he and Lestat cannot talk freely with the others there. He and Lestat are not able to use the mind gift directly. And... he is deeply unsettled by Jesse's report, the report she gives Lestat. Claudia's ghost. Deeply, deeply personal and something they share, very painfully. They go by Louis' tombstone, and then they can talk. A bit. Louis trusts Lestat and in his new powers. Falls asleep in his arms.

And that... is a rather powerful statement.

Louis (admittedly begrudgingly) enters that "adventure" with Lestat, fully trusting in Lestat. Kissing, embracing. Sleeping in his arms. It's a statement.

A statement that, despite Lestat feeling changed, and alien, that Louis still trusts him. Trusts in him, too.

And it is Louis, who tries to take Lestat home in Memnoch, Louis who pleads, begs for Lestat to be released. Louis who cries out when Lestat is locked up. Louis is the one who saves the books, Louis is the one who tries to comfort Lestat. Louis is the one who holds the proverbial fort at Rue Royale, with David, for long, long years. Louis is the one who despairs, eventually, when Lestat goes back into that half-awake coma, his soul taken away by angels.

Though there is more to that, too. You say Louis did not look after Lestat more than others, and I'd beg to differ. Louis was the one in the chapel, guarding Lestat. Holding his ground with the ancients, and the riff raff that Armand hunted down (even once with Lestat later). Louis is the one who keeps Ruy Royale, and makes sure Lestat is kept clean during his episodes of stillness, and it is only when he breaks, eventually, when Merrick takes his focus... that that... stops. When the Merrick events start, David visits Lestat, and Louis is 'there, seated on the marble beside Lestat, reading in a hushed voice from an old book of English poetry'.

Louis never leaves Lestat's side for long. Armand notes how he seems emaciated, hungry when Armand comes by in his version of the tale.

It is only when Merrick's spell unfolds that Louis leaves Lestat's side, that his focus shifts. And with the shift to Claudia and her ghost... the despair takes hold.

And it is when Louis heartbeat stops - that the "angels" lose their blackmailing material.

Lestat later tells of how he was forced to do "their bidding" by them threatening to take the eye... and though he doesn't elaborate... it is very clear what that means wrt Louis.

Because there simply was nothing else they could threaten him with anymore. Nothing else was more important than Louis. Not his eye, not his soul.

This always sends a shiver down my spine.

But that just as a note.

Louis is the one who accepts Lestat's judgment, after Merrick's creation.

He also accepts Lestat abandoning New Orleans, eventually, because Lestat cannot stand it anymore to kill the riff raff, those who "offend Armand", something Lestat calls "autocratic, ruthless" wrt to Armand's killing of them.

Louis accepts Lestat's decision there, and goes to Armand. Something that Lestat in turn accepts and supports(!):

My beloved Louis de Pointe du Lac left soon after, and from that time on lived in New York with Armand. Armand keeps the island of Manhattan safe for them—Louis, Armand, and two young blood drinkers, Benjamin and Sybelle, and whoever else joins them in their palatial digs on the Upper East Side.

And when Lestat is finally ready, it is Louis who apologizes to Lestat for the "past" by hunting a woman who wanted to murder her husband - in front of Lestat.

Personally, I find that a very poignant "doing-it-for-someone" :)))

But there is more.

Louis is the one who rescues Rose! Rose, Lestat's charge. Louis knows about Rose. Lestat's lawyers know about Louis. Louis takes over when Lestat is unreachable.

There is so much in these simple facts!

Like, they must have talked about Rose. Louis knows about Rose, knows she is important to Lestat, he takes the responsibility, saves her from fire, kills the ones who harmed her. Brings her to him. And he is the one Lestat's lawyers reach out to when Lestat is gone? Unreachable? What a statement is that in and by itself?! Louis is the one Lestat trusts with that child, the girl he saved and who will become his immortal daughter. Their immortal daughter.

And then, when Rhosh is there in NYC, at that table, and the axe scene happens... what does Louis do?

He smiles.

Now I don't know if you know that scene well, but it is quite the scene, and I honestly cannot wait to see it on the show.

And Louis... smiles. Shows support.

Quiet. Steadfast. The support Lestat needs, probably more than he consciously realizes.

And then, of course, later on - knowing what "Lestat cannot confide". They are finally sharing blood again, and Louis becomes Lestat's confidant. To all the things Lestat cannot speak about, all the things he has hinted at but cannot put into words. All the things that are too heavy to address.

That is no trifle.

And the silver cord, where Louis pushes the matter against Lestat's (not) better judgement. Where Louis is there, for Lestat to reach out.

Your ask made it seem (a bit) as if being there and offering is not sufficient, but strength shows itself in very different ways. Lestat is more direct, "flashy". Louis' strength is more subtle, it is an offer for support, unwavering support, whenever Lestat wants it. For as long as Lestat wants it. Not taking agency from Lestat, which is like the worst thing that could happen again... because that is something that has been taken from Lestat again, and again, and again. And Louis knows that.

And so he doesn't.

He doesn't take. He offers. It shows he knows Lestat. And he accepts him, and their respective pasts, and all the shit that has happened.

Again, that is no trifle, imho.

There is more. Little mentions, in the books.

A "grotto" they once shared. For example. Louis wearing the clothes Lestat chooses.

But for the most part you have to "read between the lines" as Lestat says, for the juicy details - however, I think when you consider the arcs? The arcs that span all the books?

The things we are told actually speak for themselves, imho.

Louis does a lot of things for Lestat. The important things, actually.

He is there for Lestat to turn to when Lestat's strength fails.

And yes, that includes the rejection in TtotBT - because Louis thought he had to be the one to show the strength for Lestat - to hold fast to the initial belief. The initial hope that drove the body switch - because Lestat had just found out he could not die anymore. Even if he tried. And he had tried. And it had sent him spiraling.

Would Louis have held out indefinitely? Probably not :) But that's another discussion.

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ineffabildaddy · 4 months

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Hi sam! since the new year is approaching rapidly, i wanted to ask my favorite creators (that includes you! your fics and your posts delight me) how they look back on their 2023 tumblr year and which blogs made them happy to be here. i am very happy to follow you and hope you'll have a great 2024! 💘

hi!!! thank you so so much for this, a few months ago i couldn't even imagine being so active in the tumblr community again, let alone anyone's favourite anything!!!!

i've been very fortunate to receive the warmest of welcomes back to tumblr after a 7-year absence, and i've received so much support for my writing (and my shitposts lol) that this whole experience of finally joining the good omens fandom has genuinely given me a newfound confidence in my creative self, and in myself as a whole💙

in terms of the blogs that make me happy to be here... they are many!!! i shall put the rest of this post under the cut

@raining-stars-somewhere-else thank you for being my first go friend and now one of my closest buddies!!! i can't wait for us to finally write that fic together (lol) and for us to get up to some irl london shenanigans at some point✨ ur hilarious and kind and so correct about literally everything and i love u. literally everyone needs to read ur posts bc they're so well-thought out and unique. also your fics are really moving and human (even though they're about crowley and aziraphalekldfjgjl) and i adore them

@sad-chaos-goblin we literally just Get Each Other, same brain and all, and i absolutely love it!!! i couldn't ask for a better horny consultant bc after all it is Our Pornography™. you're also just an extremely understanding, open and lovely person, not to mention very fun and exciting to be friends with hehe. ur headcanons are so fucking interesting (and sometimes sad, how dare u do this to me) and i'm looking forward to hearing more when u eventually get round to writing all those fics you've got ideas for<3

@foolishlovers i'm really really happy we've got to know each other better over the past couple weeks!!!!! your xmas fic is one of my absolute favourite fics ever and i'm in awe with your skill and craft, i hope to write something as well-rounded and enjoyable as that someday<3 also you're one of my favourite posters, so fucking funny and u just make points left right and centre. i hope we can share our writing and our thoughts about life in general more in 2024!!!

@crowleyslvt i'm very happy i barged my way into your dms to be horny on main bc i definitely wouldn't've explored half the things i've explored in my writing if not for our discussions and your encouragement!!! i absolutely love talking writing and sexy headcanons with you, but above that i love that i'm now mates with such a talented, considerate, hilarious kiwi lad. i am honoured to be one of the little guys in ur phone who gets to hype up u as an exceedingly great porn writer but also as a legend in general

@voluptatiscausa no one understands my feralness for michael sheen like you do. i can go batshit insane in the dms over ms and dt with u and that space is important to me dlgkljdgldfjgl. i'm really glad i started reading ur writing this year bc it's very enjoyable, but it's also healing for me as a person who's [whispers] a traumatised and cripplingly shy person in terms of sex lmao. thank you for bestowing it upon ao3, and by extension, upon me!!!! also tho, you're a really nurturing and interesting friend to have, not to mention a Very Cool one so continue to be that pls and thanks

@bowtiepastabitch i've felt very honoured to hear about parts of your life as you share them with me - Knowing The Lore is so important to me and i'm humbled that you've trusted me with some of the stuff that's been happening in your world<3 on another note, your fanart may be quick but it's never shitty, it's always so expressive and fun and gets my brain Thinking Thoughts. i can't express how wonderful it was when you made a wee bit of fanart for one of my fics, and i hope i continue to see ur creativity shine✨

thank you to my favourite blogs for Existing Throughout 2023 (some of whom i know i can call friends, and the rest of whom i'd like to call friends in the future!!!) @sabotage-on-mercury @crowleys-bentley-and-plants @ineffableigh @celestialcrowley @queer-reader-07 @crowleyraejepsens @teddybearbutchh @crowleyholmes @ineffable-rohese @createserenity @quoththemaiden @procrastiel @sentientsky @genderqueer-hippie @beelzzzebub @lineffability @fellshish @greenthena @brainwormcity @opscuritas @tangerine-ginger @iammyownproblematicfave @crikey01 @crawley-fell @vroomvroomwee @bildads-shoes @shoemakerobstetrician @romansmartini @wraithee

i know i'll have forgotten people so i'll add em as i remember em hehehehe

#kinda good omens #personal #asks #ineffabildaddy

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oddinary4bts · 3 months

Note

Yes been waiting for this fic!! Pls post the teaser 🥹

Mkay I'll post it here :)))))

☆pairing: older brother's best friend!Jungkook x female!reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

☆genre: older brother's best friend!au, college!au, smut, angst, fluff (mostly just smut-ish in this teaser)

☆warnings: mentions of the Incident, talks of masturbation

☆word count: 692

☆☆☆☆☆

Jungkook switches game to Smash, not saying anything else. It seems the conversation is over, and you watch him play a match as you sip your beer, slower than the other one. It makes you realize that you don’t usually hang out with Jungkook, and you reckon you have nothing to tell him.

There’s usually always a buffer between the two of you, be it Taehyung or Jimin.

“How have your midterms been going?” he asks all of a sudden, right as you watch his character being thrown out of the screen.

“Huh,” you let out. “It’s been okay,” you admit. “Just stressful, and a lot of studying.”

He glances at your beer. “Sorry for interrupting your studying tonight.”

“Nah, all good,” you reassure him. “I needed a break. I pulled an all-nighter last night.”

He throws you a disapproving look that makes you shrug your shoulders as if to say ‘it’s whatever’. He doesn’t comment anything though, waiting until his match ends to speak again.

“You shouldn’t pull all-nighters, they’re bad for your health.”

“It’s fine,” you insist. “I had a midterm this morning, didn’t really have a choice.”

He pulls at his piercing, nodding once. “Fair enough. What are you doing still up though?”

Right on cue, you yawn again. “I’m going to head to bed soon,” you admit. “But I took a nap this afternoon and I always struggle with sleeping after.”

“Pretty sure you’ve got a little friend that can help you with that.”

Your mouth falls open in surprise, but Jungkook’s attention is focused on the screen as another match begins.

“Excuse me?”

“Unless you just use your fingers?” he teases. “How do you touch yourself, peach?”

“Jungkook, shut the fuck up,” you warn.

Though his words have arousal build up inside of you, and you clench your thighs together instinctively.

“Just do whatever you did the other night,” he says, and you know he’s referring to the Incident. “You’ll sleep well after.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “You’re so crass.”

“Yet you’re still sitting next to me.”

You watch his profile, and your eyes fall to the ink on his arm. His forearm flexes as he uses the controller, and you force yourself to look at the screen.

“I’m just finishing my beer.”

He glances at you once, and you think you could drown in the darkness in his eyes. His gaze is gone too fast for you to do just that, but you still feel your pulse racing.

“Relax, peach,” he tells you, voice suddenly husky. It has the opposite effect of making you relax, and you wet your lips as he continues, “Masturbating is only human. You shouldn’t be ashamed of it.”

“Still don’t think I should be discussing that with you,” you say after a few seconds of electric current swimming in your blood.

He chuckles manly. “Fair enough. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

In truth, he did quite the opposite, but you don’t have it in you to tell him. You don’t want to tell him, don’t want to encourage his behaviour when it feels like danger in its purest form.

“All good,” you say, and you’re aware you sound breathless. As a matter of fact, you are breathless, and you know Jungkook heard it too. Know that the look he throws you is filled with lust, sinfully so, and you know you need to leave this room.

He’s your brother’s best friend after all.

“I’m…” you trail off. He nods once to encourage you to continue, gaze still burning on you even though that means he’s losing his game. “I’m going to go to bed now.”

He glances at your beer. “You’re done with that?”

He’s a little shit. He’s a little shit and he clearly knows it.

“I’ll finish it in my room.”

His tongue darts out to play with his piercing as his big doe eyes narrow. “Alright. Good night, peach.”

You nod once, and you get up from the couch. The blanket falls from your legs, and you’re all too aware of how he’s looking at you, as if he’s about to devour you.

“Good night.”

#let me know what you guys think #i wanna start hyping this baby up #bc gosh #i think you'll love it #this jungkook is a MENACE #i need to find a name lmao #jungkook #also yes he does call her peach #you'll learn why eventually :))

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yoongiseesawmp3 · 2 years

Text

amazing grace - psh (m)

part of the church boy series.

summary: you’re spending the summer at home after finishing school and you somehow get dragged into handling the baby nursery at church for the next two months. the only thing sweeter than the babies is your co-worker, park seonghwa.

word count: 10k

warnings: smut! i tried my best to keep language gender neutral but afab!reader and smutty smut smut. some language. little slow burn-y? breeding kink a little bit? sorry. oral (f receiving) and uhhh unprotected sex pls don’t do that! and a lil gagging. lmk if i need to tag anything else. mostly unedited also!

“okay, i know i said i needed a transition job, but this is not what i meant,” you tell your mother, who just explained “the best idea” to you.

basically, she wants you to move back home for the summer and babysit all the kids from your church. some of these kids were made by classmates and friends of yours, and this feels like a slight dig by your mom that you haven’t made any grand-babies yet. she said the pay was decent, and the job is yours if you’re willing to live back at home for a month or two while you wait for your connections to finesse a job for you.

“c’mon, y/n, you’d be really good at it,” your mom insists. “i always thought you’d be a great teacher, so this can be a way for you to try it out.”

“i don’t know mom,” you say. “this just doesn’t align with the plan i had for myself.”

“well i know that,” your mom scoffs. “i’m just saying...if nothing better comes along....:

“i’ll consider it,” you assure her, putting her at ease for the time being. she moves on to complaining about some family drama, and you start to zone out, catching yourself thinking about how bad the nursery job really would be.

that following sunday, you wake up to your phone ringing. it’s still early, and it’s the weekend, so you decide to ignore it and try to fall back asleep. the buzzing stops and your room is quiet for a moment before you feel another vibration alerting you of a voicemail. worried that it could be something about a job opportunity, you grab your phone and play the voicemail without checking the number.

“hello? uh, hi, y/n,” a man’s voice begins. “this is seonghwa, from church. i uh, i saw that you might be interested in the open nursery job? so i was calling about that. if you have any questions, you can just call me, and maybe we can meet to discuss the position. i think you’d really like it, so i hope you get in touch soon. ok. um. that’s it. alrighty. bye.”

seonghwa? park seonghwa? like the guy you had a big ass crush on from age ten to eighteen park seonghwa? just the thought of him working with babies is enough to make you swoon. maybe this is a sign that you shouldn’t take the nursery job after all, even though you’d convinced yourself to do it for a few months at least.

then again...it’s been a while since you’ve seen seonghwa, so maybe those childhood feelings won’t resurface and it won’t be as endearing to see him with babies as you’re imagining. you decide to sleep on it a little more, and plug your phone back in before you roll over and go back to sleep with babies and seonghwa on the brain.

“y/n!” your mom yells, obviously using the spare key you gave her very freely. she let herself into your apartment on her way home from church because she had news.

so, yes, maybe she mentioned the whole baby nursery thing to you because she wants to light a fire under your ass about having grandkids, but she knows an easy job around some cute babies will help cheer you up after finishing up your final semester and an internship without any job prospects. but this morning, the most curious thing happened.

she was sitting in her pew after church, chatting with friends, when a handsome young man came up to her asking about you of all people. he said his name was seonghwa and that you were friends back in high school, so he was really excited when he heard you were interested in the nursery job. he said he called you but you didn’t pick up (which is typical) and he wanted to know if your mom could relay the message that he really hopes you take the job. so of course, she had to come tell you immediately. now, she won’t admit that she’s already got your wedding planned with this young man, but she does have venues bookmarked in her phone. just in case.

you woke up a few minutes before she came over uninvited, so you were alive and dressed, thankfully. don’t need to hear a lecture from your mom about sleeping until noon as a grown adult. you grab your laundry basket on the way out to make it look like you’ve had a productive morning and go to greet your mother.

“hey mom, thanks for the heads up,” you reply and she just rolls her eyes as she unpacks the food she brought over.

“nice to see you too, sweetie,” she scoffs. “i have a bone to pick with you.”

“oh do tell.”

“do you remember seonghwa?” she asks, and it takes every ounce of strength in you to not audibly groan.

“yeah, he called me about the position,” you say, skipping the part where your mother coos over how marry-able he is. “i was gonna call him back once church let out.”

“and have you?” she sing-songs back.

“no,” you reply in the same tone. “he’s probably still there with the kids so i was gonna give a few more minutes. and also, you’re here. it’s rude to take phone calls when you have guests.”

“i guess i’ll just have to get out of your hair then,” your mom says as she starts to pack up.

“you’re joking?” you ask incredulously. “you’ve never come over for such a short amount of time.”

“that was the plan the whole time,” she assures you. “i thought you might need some face to face encouragement to call that nice young man, and i didn’t want to feel bad about finishing this family size meal all by myself, so it was a successful trip.”

“thanks mom,” you grumble as you drop the facade of being productive and leave your laundry on the kitchen table in favor of picking at the fried chicken on your kitchen counter.

“call that boy!” your mom shouts as she lets herself out, and you promise that you will so she’ll leave faster.

you let a few days go by before you actually call seonghwa. part of you is hoping that you’ll hear from one of the many jobs you’ve applied for in your field, and the other part of you is trying to suppress the butterflies you get every time you think about seonghwa. you think you’ve finally got those under control, and your rent is looming ahead of you, so you take the dive and call your old friend.

was seonghwa still your friend? as you wait for him to pick up you think back on some of the time you spent together as kids, which was definitely peak friendship for the two of you. then you started drifting apart around middle school and came back around during high school when you both started volunteering with the younger kids. you drifted again when you both went to college, and you realize you haven’t really spoken to him since. it makes sense that seonghwa would still be working with kids, but you wonder what he’s been up to these past few years. your train of thought is cut short by the sound of the familiar voice on the other end of the phone.

“y/n?” seonghwa asks, a hint of surprise in his voice. “didn’t think you’d ever call me back.”

“yep,” you laugh nervously. so much for suppressing the butterflies in your gut. “i am completely skint, so i need a job. and you so kindly offered me one the other day, remember?”

“skint?” seonghwa replies. “you learn a bunch of weird words off at that fancy college of yours?”

so it seems the years apart didn’t take away that comfortable connection you always seemed to have with seonghwa. friends and family would call what you two consider platonic banter just straight up flirting, but there’s no one around to hear the teasing lilt in seonghwa’s voice or to see the blush threatening to rise all over your face.

“i learned a few,” you confirm. “do you know what assiduous means?”

“isn’t that a type of tree?”

“no,” you laugh. “it means to show great care and perseverance.”

“i was way off,” seonghwa laughs back and you nod despite being alone. “maybe that can be your thing if you get this job, you teach the babies new words.”

“yeah, tell me more about this job,” you start. “do we have to actually sit on the babies?”

seonghwa wasn’t expecting that, and laughs fully from his chest. you can’t stop the warmth that spreads through you at the sound, and it takes seonghwa a moment to respond.

“dear god, please don’t sit on them,” he says through a few spare giggles. “your mom didn’t explain the job to you?”

“a little,” you shrug. “but you actually do it, so tell me more. what’s it like getting paid to wipe baby shit all morning?”

seonghwa goes on to explain the job, and you learn that it’s not just a one day gig, which is great news for you. you could potentially work the majority of the day on sunday with a few hours here and there throughout the week for bible studies that need childcare. it’s not an astounding amount of money, but with your savings it’s enough to hold you over while you look for something more permanent.

“and the kids are really cute,” seonghwa concludes, ending his thorough description of everything this job entails.

“thank goodness, i wouldn’t do it if they were uggos,” you joke, and you hear seonghwa sigh, but you also think you hear a smile in his voice as he replies.

“you haven’t changed at all, have you y/n?”

“if it ain’t broke don’t fix it, right?” you answer. “so when could i start working in the nursery?”

“seriously?” seonghwa asks, sounding surprised, which is weird considering you just spent 10 minutes on the phone with him discussing the job and its duties.

“uh, yeah? that’s why i called.”

“oh, um, right,” seonghwa hesitates. “well, uh, i guess you could start this sunday? you can come in tomorrow to do the paperwork, i’ll be there to do childcare for a leadership meeting, and i can show you where everything is.”

“seonghwa, i’ve been going to this church since i was a baby,” you tell him. “i already know where everything is.”

“ah yes, but do you know where i keep my secret pack of snacks that i steal from the toddler rooms so i have something to eat that’s not pre-mushed? or where the good lysol spray is kept?”

“you have much knowledge,” you tease. “guess i’ve got a lot to learn.”

“yeah, you’ve just got to be assiduous about it,” seonghwa replies, a smile present in his voice. “so i’ll see you tomorrow? and then again on sunday?”

“tomorrow and again on sunday,” you confirm. “bye seonghwa! and thank you, seriously. i needed this job.”

“it was yours from the start,” he tells you. “see you later, y/n.”

you get to church early the next day, and find seonghwa in the baby nursery organizing diapers into different drawers. you stop for a minute and take him in, noticing that his face shows a little more maturity than the cherub faced kid you grew up with. you’ve seen him around, but you haven’t taken the time to notice just how...grown up seonghwa looks. he looks good, you can’t deny. you’re busy staring at his chiseled jawline when he turns and jumps at your presence.

“jesus, y/n, say something next time,” he gasps out.

“shouldn’t you apologize for saying j dog’s name like that?” you joke.

“ok, don’t call him j dog in front of the kids,” seonghwa laughs, and he takes a moment to blatantly check you out. “you look nice.”

“oh, thanks,” you say simply. “didn’t know if i needed to treat this like a real job or not so i went with one of my more casual interview outfits.”

“you got the job,” seonghwa assures you. “no need to impress me with cute clothes.”

“so,” you say, ignoring his comment and lingering eyes. “you were gonna show me where the snacks are?”

in the next five minutes, you find yourself sprawled out at one of the little tables in a toddler room down the hall, onboarding paperwork surrounding you and a pile of oreos in between you and seonghwa. you catch up as you finish your paperwork, and you learn that seonghwa has been working at the nursery all through college. he’s not sure he wants to be a teacher anymore, or work with kids at all actually, but the church kids have a special place in his heart so that’s kept him here over the years.

“what about you?” he asks. “you just graduated right?”

“right,” you confirm. “kinda don’t wanna talk about it.”

“why not?”

“well, no offense, but i didn’t expect to get my degree and then come back home to work with church babies,” you tell him. “i’m not as nice as you, i don’t have a soft spot for these kids. i just have bills i have to pay.”

“i get that,” seonghwa nods. “not everyone can be as kind and caring as i am.”

“woah, that’s totally not what i meant,” you laugh, and seonghwa smiles back at you.

“no, i really do get it,” he assures you. “i don’t plan on being here much longer myself.”

“oh? and what’s next for the oh so lovely park seonghwa?” you tease, and you feel proud at the blush you find dusting seonghwa’s cheeks.

“i’ll be keeping that to myself for now,” he teases back, popping an oreo in his mouth as he glances down at your paperwork. “you did that page wrong.”

“what?!” you exclaim, looking back to notice that yes, you did fill it out wrong. you wrote in the spots meant for the employer and not the employee, and you groan. “it’s because you’re distracting me.”

“if i’m a distraction to you then i don’t think we should work together y/n,” seonghwa says, holding eye contact with you for a moment. suddenly you find it hard to breathe, and if seonghwa hadn’t moved to get you a new sheet, then you’re not sure where that conversation would’ve gone. there was some kind of intention behind his eyes that you couldn’t quite read, so you decide to ignore it instead as you pop open an oreo and absentmindedly eat the icing. seonghwa catches you licking the icing off and has to remind himself he’s literally at church so his mind won’t wander.

“here,” he says as he gently hands you the new stack of paper. “brought some extras in case you mess up again.”

“don’t make me quit before i even start, park.”

“sorry,” he laughs. “but speaking of that, when can you start?”

“uh, pretty immediately?” you tell him. “i really need money.”

“so like, could you start tonight?”

apparently thursdays are a big day for bible studies at your church, because within an hour, you’ve got about five newborns in the nursery with you and seonghwa. the other nursery workers came in shortly after you finished your paperwork and welcomed you, and you had to laugh at them calling you “seonghwa’s friend” as if you didn’t grow up in this church just like he did. it’s obvious you’re not as involved as seonghwa, so it didn’t matter that much, but when you recognized one of your childhood church friends dropping off her kid, you waved, and she pretended not to see you. that got on your nerves, but someone dropping off another baby cut through your angry inner monologue. you hold eye contact with the baby in your arms before you call for seonghwa’s attention.

“seonghwa you told me these kids were cute,” you start out. “this one looks like a cabbage patch kid gone wrong.”

“don’t say that y/n!” seonghwa scolds you, but you can see the hint of a smile sneaking through his sharp features.. “babies are little angels.”

“you really like kids don’t you?” you ask, after watching him fuss over the baby in his arms. “you’re really good with them.”

“thanks,” he replies with a soft, yet breathtaking, smile. “i’ve always felt like i needed to work with them so i could be the kinda person i always needed when i grew up.”

“why babies though?” you ask. “aren’t they more work?”

“eh, not here,” seonghwa shrugs. “the other kids talk too much. ask a lotta questions i don’t want to answer.”

“smart man.”

“but also the past few years i’ve just had babies on the brain,” seonghwa continues as he bounces the baby in his arms. “i guess it’s my subconscious telling me i need to start a family soon.”

“any prospects for that family, hm?” you pry, smiling as you watch the baby in his arms giggle and clap.

“maybe,” seonghwa replies shyly. “i don’t wanna talk about it.”

and you leave it, for that night at least. the crush you have/had on seonghwa is keeping you from being totally neutral, so you know you’ll want to ask again in the future, but for now you let seonghwa be cute with his little baby buddies and you just admire from afar and help out as you can.

before the night is over, one of the little girls has completely clung to you, falling asleep on your chest so securely that her mom jokes about bringing you home with them so they don’t have to wake her. with a little luck, you don’t even disturb her as you place her into her stroller, and seonghwa looks on proudly while you smile and wave goodbye to some of the cute kids walking by.

“so when were you gonna tell me you were a pro at this?” seonghwa asks, and you blush slightly. “the babies, and the parents, love you. impressive.”

“they’re easy to get along with,” you shrug. “and you made it pretty easy too.”

“what about you?” seonghwa asks suddenly. “have you thought about starting a family?”

“not until recently,” you admit. “seeing my friends have kids has really lit a fire under my ass, mostly because my mom sees her friends talking about grandkids on facebook and then she comes to me asking for grandbabies just about every single day.”

“and?”

“and what?”

“do you think you’ll have kids?” seonghwa asks, and you shrug.

“not sure, really. maybe if i meet the right person? but for now, no,” you tell him. “need a real job before i can have a real kid.”

“got it,” seonghwa nods, something unreadable in his expression. he finishes wiping down the counter before turning to face you fully. “want me to walk you to your car?”

“i’m right outside, you don’t need to-”

“i insist.”

you take a few minutes to collect your things, and then seonghwa is leading you out of the church, pointing out which doors need to be locked before you walk out and what lights need to stay on for the cleaning crews. you take it all in intently, and soon enough you’re outside your car, awkwardly waiting for seonghwa to finish his spiel about coming to work early.

“i’m sorry,” seonghwa interrupts himself. “i’m boring you.”

“no, not at all hwa!” you insist. he quirks an eyebrow at the resurfaced nickname, and you stumble on insisting that you’ll be at work early no matter what, and you’re so thankful for this job, and-

seonghwa kisses you. it’s quick, so you almost don’t notice, but he definitely kissed you, the lingering hand on your hip to steady you is enough evidence of that. he pulled away quickly, and it gives you a chance to stare back at him, checking his eyes before flitting your own gaze back down to his lips. he gets the hint and leans back in, this time securely wrapping his hands around your waist as your hands card through his hair. it’s an innocent kiss, but seonghwa’s touch makes you feel like you’re on fire. he alternates between deep kisses that have you searching for air, and then he pulls back slightly to nip your lips and tease as if he’s going to pull away, before diving back in.

but before you know it, he’s pulling away again, whispering something about work on sunday, and then he’s gone, leaving you with puffy lips and your heart beating against your ribcage.

the next few shifts with seonghwa go by without a word about your kiss. he’s still his friendliest self, still a little aloof like always, and still so sickeningly sweet with the babies. it’s doing things to your heart, watching him take care of them so well, and you catch yourself staring a little too often. you hope seonghwa doesn’t see, but he’s caught you a few times. all it does is rustle the budding feelings for you deep in his chest, and he does his best to ignore them for now.

“why do you keep staring at me?” he asks one quiet shift, just the two of you and a baby asleep in each of your arms. you had absolutely been staring at his plump lips as they made kissy sounds at the baby in his lap, but you can’t just say that. you don’t know where you stand with seonghwa, so you don’t wanna push it if there’s not anything that should be pushed, so you make something up.

“oh, i was just looking at how you were holding the baby,” you tell him. he’s somehow made a barrier for the baby to sit comfortably in his elevated lap, which looks so much more comfortable than the way you’re sitting. “i think my arm is about to fall asleep.”

“well we can’t have that,” seonghwa says, finally looking over to you and noting how your arm must be cramped in that small chair. he gets up and carefully places his baby in a bouncer before making his way to you. “let me show you how to do it.”

“what?” you ask, taken aback as seonghwa slides his arms around yours to shift your grip on the bundle of joy you’re holding.

“just go with it,” he says, eyes flicking up to bore into your own. his voice is barely above a whisper, and you’re not sure if that’s because of the sleeping baby or not.

he pulls his arms away once he’s satisfied with your hold, and you assume that’s all he’s gonna do. you’re noticeably more comfortable now, but seonghwa’s not done. he places his hand at the back of your knee and pulls your leg up. the touch takes your breath away, and seonghwa is quick to position you so that both of your feet are on the stool in front of you, legs bent to create that same elevated surface for the baby that you watched him do. he tells you to put the baby in your lap now, and he stands above you for a few moments to gauge your comfort level. one hand is still on your knee though, so he gives it a squeeze before pulling away completely.

“see? that’s better.”

“mhm,” you squeak out, still reeling over the feeling of his hands on your legs. the slightest hint of fire lingers on everywhere he touched, and you focus on your baby to clear your head. “thank you.”

“anytime,” he hums, moving around the room with a smug smile on his face.

it isn’t until a week or so later that seonghwa makes another move. it was a busy day, you were swamped with crying kids all morning, and seonghwa could tell you needed some kind of relief.

“y/n?” seonghwa whispers, trying not to disturb the easily excitable babies that are currently asleep. “are you doing anything tonight?”

“uh, no?” you reply. “why? please don’t tell me it involves more babies.”

“no,” he chuckles quietly. “i was planning on meeting some friends at a bar and wanted to know if you’d be down to join us? you remember my friend, hongjoong right?”

“was he the one that you brought as your friend to youth night one year, and the pastors all asked you if they should pray for his soul?” you ask jokingly, somewhat remembering the fiasco it was that seonghwa brought a friend who dared to come to church with blue hair and an actual fashion sense. it catches seonghwa off guard, and his chuckle is a little louder this time. you both freeze, staring into each other’s eyes and hoping you don’t hear a baby wailing in the next three seconds. the room stays silent, so he continues the conversation.

“yeah, that’s him,” he smiles. “he’s dj’ing tonight, so we’re going out to support him, if you wanna come.”

“yeah, i’m down,” you say with a shrug. “could definitely use a drink after dealing with these little ones.”

“don’t talk about impure things around the babies,” he whispers back.

“hwa, none of these kids know what we’re saying,” you say a little louder than you probably should. the baby closest to seonghwa starts to whine, and he’s quick to soothe them, but then the baby next to them wakes up and starts crying, and suddenly the whole room is abuzz with tears. you catch seonghwa’s eye and smile, “bet you could use a drink right about now, huh?”

you agree to meet seonghwa at the bar, just taking a lyft to make things easier on yourself later. you make it through the front and start looking around for your devilishly handsome coworker when you hear someone calling your name. you turn and see what must be hongjoong waving you over.

“y/n!” he shouts as soon as you’re close enough. “it’s so good to see you!”

“you too!” you shout back over the music. “i can’t believe you recognized me after all these years.”

“i’d remember that face,” he replies with a wink, and you can’t help but take the compliment shyly. “thanks for coming to see my set.”

“well thank seonghwa for inviting me,” you tell him. “do you know where he is, by the way?”

“he’s outside trying to find some of our friends,” he explains. “apparently they started pregaming and are too drunk to find the bar. so i’m sorry about any of that in advance.”

“oh i’m sure it’ll be fine,” you laugh. “speaking of drinks though, i think i’m gonna head to the bar, you need anything?”

“nah,” hongjoong shakes his head. “i’m good, don’t like to be affected when i get on stage.”

“very professional of you,” you reply. “i’ll be right back then.”

you squeeze your way through the crowd, fighting for a spot against the bar as you wait to get the bartender’s attention. while you wait, a hand lightly taps your shoulder, and you turn around to see seonghwa. he smiles at you sweetly, waving from a couple people behind you. you wave back, but grab his hand before he puts it down and you just yank him to the front with you.

“thanks for that,” he laughs. “glad you could make it.”

“happy to be here,” you smile. “you need a drink?”

“hell yes,” he replies, and you gasp in pretend shock.

“perfect angel park seonghwa just said a curse word?” you continue, and seonghwa rolls his eyes.

“i could say a lot worse than that,” he assures you, and you don’t know why that makes your heart skip a beat.

“i’d like to see that,” you tease.

“i’m sure you would,” he fights back, and you fall quiet. the bartender looks your way and seonghwa waves her over before whispering to you, “if it’s quicker, we can just put this all on one tab.”

“okay,” you agree, reaching for your wallet, but seonghwa puts his hand on top of yours and shakes his head.

“don’t even think about it,” he says. “i invited you out, i’ll get this round.”

“thank you,” you say, placing your hand on his shoulder so you can shout it in his ear over the music. you both order, and continue to wait as the music booms around you. the drinks come quickly, and there’s suddenly a large group trying to push their way to the bar, so seonghwa, thinking fast, grabs you by the hip to lead you back to the table where hongjoong sits, now with a few new faces.

the friends introduce themselves as yeosang, yunho and mingi, and they seem like nice guys. despite what hongjoong said earlier, they don’t seem too drunk, and they’re easy to talk to, which you appreciate. it’ll be a fun night, and you all hype hongjoong up as he gets ready to perform.

“so how often does he do this?” you ask seonghwa, who’s motioning for you to slide into the booth next to yeosang.

“not that often actually,” seonghwa explains. “he usually just produces or writes for his side projects, but every once in a while the owner here convinces him to dj if she needs some extra cash. hongjoong always pulls a big crowd.”

“i didn’t realize i’ve been invited to such an exclusive event,” you joke, and seonghwa smiles lightly.

“well you are a vip,” he lamely replies, and you laugh, mostly at his red cheeks and the face of regret after he realizes how corny that was. “shut up. try your drink.”

“what’d you two order?” mingi asks, finally cutting into the banter between you and hwa.

“i got a mule and y/n got a fancy martini,” seonghwa explains. “y/n’s all grown up on me now.”

“i saw a tiktok about a bartender that said people who know their exact martini order are sexy, so i’ve been trying a few things,” you admit.

“that is kinda sexy,” yeosang says, giving you a suggestive eyebrow wiggle that gets you laughing. you don’t notice seonghwa stiffening beside you as yunho butts in.

“so what’s your order?” he asks politely. “martinis always seem boring, but that looks good.”

“you can try a sip if you want,” you offer him. “it’s a wet martini with a twist, so it’s a little sweeter, but still strong.”

“wet?” mingi laughs, and seonghwa rolls his eyes.

“grow up, that’s how you know how much vermouth is in it, you twelve year old,” seonghwa scolds him. he says this as he watches you pass your drink to yunho, who sticks his straw in and takes a tentative taste. why didn’t you ask seonghwa if he wanted to try?

“that’s actually not bad,” yunho says with a nod.

“i like it,” you agree. “having a go to martini order feels so adult. figured it was time to move on from the cheapest thing on the menu and go for a big kid drink.”

“hey, hongjoong’s starting!” yeosang chimes, noticing how the lights have changed and the music is getting lower before transitioning to hongjoong’s set. you all turn your focus to the stage to watch him hard at work, heads bopping along as he builds momentum. your table stays quiet for a moment, enjoying the music and sipping your drinks, and then you feel a slight pressure on your leg. you look down to see seonghwa gripping your thigh, and you glance up at him but he’s still focused on his friend. you stare for a moment, hoping to catch his eye to no avail. you look back at hongjoong, and seonghwa squeezes your knee before letting go completely. you ignore it, but scoot closer to him ever so slightly.

you’re about to turn around to say something to him when hongjoong suddenly changes the song to one of your favorites, and instead of the subtle move you were going for you whip your head around to face seonghwa and insist that “we need to go dance. like now.”

“now?” he asks, slightly caught off guard as you put all your weight on him to force him out of the booth.

“yes, now!” you shriek. “i love this song, let’s go!”

seonghwa finally stands and you down the rest of your martini before grabbing his hand and leading him toward the crowd. you nestle yourselves off to the side, but in hongjoong’s line of sight, so he smiles and waves when he notices you having a good time. you lightly drape your arms across seonghwa’s shoulders and start to dance, and it takes him no time to place his hands on your hips and follow suit. maybe downing your drink wasn’t the best choice, but hey, you’re dancing with seonghwa and he seems to have no problem with it. he really must not mind, because now you’re singing along to the chorus right in his face and he just laughs and pulls you tighter. you notice a tension in his hold, but you’re too enveloped by the song to really care. your song slowly starts to build into another, and you slow your movements and lean slightly into seonghwa’s chest to catch your breath.

“that was cute,” he says, looking down at you through a gaze that you can’t quite read. “note to self, y/n really likes bad bunny.”

“it’s a good song,” you laugh nervously, trying not to think about the last time you were this close to seonghwa. his lips are slightly chapped tonight, but plump and kissable nonetheless. maybe if you just-

“i’ll have to remember what else you like,” he says lowly, and you have to lean closer to hear him fully.

“like what?” you ask, unsure of where this is going.

“well, i know what kind of music you like,” he begins. “and now i know what kind of drinks you like, too. you like your martinis wet, right?”

“you seem to be paying a lot of attention to me, park,” you just barely whisper, your lips so close to his ear he can feel your breath.

“answer the question, y/n,” he warns. “you like your cocktails wet, right?” you give a meek ‘mhm’ in response. “then i wonder what else you like wet, huh?”

you pull back from him slightly, mostly to read the look he’s giving you, but seonghwa has tightened his grip on you so hard that you can’t quite move. now you notice the tension you felt earlier came from the bulge in his pants that’s currently pressed up against your thigh, and your next look at seonghwa tells you all that you need to know.

“why don’t we get out of here and you can find out?”

“get out of here” didn’t really work that well. you made it back near the bar with every intent of closing out the tab, but seonghwa decided kissing along the nape of your neck was a better idea. then he pushed you over toward the wall and occupied your lips for some time, and after that you couldn’t take it anymore. you’re currently pressed up against the door of the nearest bathroom, seonghwa’s lips on yours and his desperate moans sending warmth from your chest all the way to your core. you whimper as he pulls away, and he has the audacity to smirk at you while he brushes the hair out of your face.

“couldn’t wait till we got to my place, darling? had to have me right now?” he teases, tracing his fingers across the marks along your neck before dipping them to the top of your shirt. “can i take this off love?” you nod quickly and lift your arms, helping seonghwa pull it off you. your bra leaves little to the imagination, and seonghwa can’t help but stare for a moment. while he’s distracted, you try to catch him off guard.

“who knew precious church boy seonghwa was the kind of guy to fuck in a bar bathroom?” you tease, and seonghwa responds by dipping his fingers down to pinch your nipple. you try to save face with your response, “pinching, really? grow up.”

“stop talking,” seonghwa says lowly before meeting your lips again. “not sure...what you’re into..or i would’ve just slapped your tits to shut you up.”

“i thought you said you wanted to learn what i like,” you say as you pull apart. “so ask me what i like. and don’t say anything about being wet.”

“are you?” seonghwa quips, and you quirk an eyebrow in reply. “you want me to find out myself?”

“ah, after you take your shirt off,” you interject. “i like an even playing field, i take something off, you take something off.”

“fine,” he gruffs, pulling his shirt over his head with ease and revealing the most surprisingly toned chest you’ve ever seen.

“damn, lifting babies made you buff,” you joke, and seonghwa decides he’s getting tired of your jokes. he finds the waistband of your panties poking out above your hips and gives it a tug, releasing the elastic on your skin to give you a little jolt. he looks back up to your eyes and you tell him it’s okay before he dips his fingers into your underwear to immediately find your clit. he gives it a few tentative rubs that have you rutting your hips embarrassingly quickly, and then he’s dipping two digits down to your entrance.

“you think you can take two fingers already?” he asks. “you’re wet enough i think they would slide right in.”

he’s right, he pushes his fingers into you with ease and you hear how wet you are with each movement. he gets in a few quick strokes and then he pulls his fingers from you too soon, silencing you quickly by tapping his fingers on your lips.

“suck,” he instructs you. “don’t wanna hear your funny little jokes right now.”

“but-”

“ah ah, i can stop and we can go back to the table,” he begins, and you violently shake your head, his wet fingers rubbing obscenely over your lips. you tentatively lick away the slick and seonghwa rolls his hips into yours with a moan. “cmon, fingers in your mouth or we’re not doing anything else. can’t get too loud or we’ll ruin hongjoong’s set.”

you finally comply, welcoming seonghwa’s digits as they push past your lips and rest on your tongue. you do as he said and give a little suck, swiping your tongue around to collect the arousal that’s still currently dripping through your panties.

“hmmm,” seonghwa continues. “should i eat you out for good measure? or would that take too long?” you try to respond with his fingers in your mouth, but he sighs and pulls his hand away so he can hear you.

“not sure how long i would last,” you pant slightly. “and i wanna cum on your cock too badly to risk it.”

“oh baby, who said you wouldn’t?” he asks, sending a shiver down your spine. “help me get undressed sweetheart, and i’ll show you something i like.”

you reach for seonghwa’s pants as he does the same to you, roughly undoing his belt and zipper so you can push his pants off him quicker. you’re both left in your underwear, and seonghwa pulls your bra off your shoulders as you dip your hand into his boxers. you give him a quick squeeze, which has him bucking into your touch, and you feel a little victorious, but just for a moment. he’s removed your bra and pulls your panties down next, but you watch as he balls them up and mimics opening his mouth as he brings the balled up fabric back up to your lips.

“i told you we can’t be too loud,” he explains, and you nod in understanding as you let him fill your mouth with your soiled panties. he grips your chin before stroking your clit with his free hand, and you watch as he kneels down to make good on his teasing from earlier. the first touch of his tongue against your pussy has you stifling a moan that’s more like a scream, and you’re suddenly thankful for the gag in your mouth. seonghwa gives your clit a few kitten licks before he moves down and practically starts making out with your cunt, drinking in each drop you let out and holding you down by the hip so you won’t go anywhere. you watch from above as his tongue works through your folds, and you toss your head back in a moan when he sucks on your clit and prods your entrance with his fingers. he dips in slowly at first, giving equal attention to your clit, but slowly he builds until he’s fucking you on his fingers. you can’t help but grind down into him, and the way he’s stroking you has you seeing stars. he starts to apply more pressure to your clit and you lose it, moaning loudly despite your mouth being full and you notice a single tear dripping down your cheek. seonghwa works you through your high, kissing your clit until your moans turn to whimpers, and he stands to greet you with lust filled eyes.

“you taste fucking delicious,” he says before popping his fingers into his own mouth this time. “so sweet and wet, just for me, yeah?”

you nod and mumble something through your gag, which seonghwa doesn’t understand. he pulls just enough of your panties out to hear you speak, and you take a few quick breaths before repeating yourself.

“two questions,” you start, still out of breath from your high. “are you gonna fuck me? and do you have a condom?”

at the second question, seonghwa’s face falls.

“shit,” he mumbles, reaching for his pants. “shit shit shit. i don’t think i do.”

“isn’t there a dispenser in here?” you ask, glancing around your close quarters. seonghwa follows your gaze as you notice, yes, there is a dispenser in here, but the smallest little sticky note on it displays the worst news: out of order.

“fuck,” he groans. “ok, let’s just go, we can go to my apartment and-”

“seonghwa,” you try to stop him, but he keeps going. “seonghwa!”

“what?” he asks, turning back to you with almost puppy dog pouting eyes.

“are you clean?” you ask him, and he looks confused. “i’m on the pill, so if you’re clean, i mean, i trust you, so. we could still. fuck. if you want.”

“are you sure?” he asks. “i’m clean, i promise. honestly it’s been an embarrassing amount of time since i’ve done this so you’re pretty safe, i’d say.”

“well you’re doing great for somebody out of practice,” you assure him, and he laughs.

“ok. so we’re doing this? you’re ok with it?” he confirms once more.

“yes, i’m sure. now come fuck me.”

that’s all seonghwa needs to hear before he’s crashing his lips to yours with newfound energy, and you moan at the way you can still taste yourself on his tongue.

“aren’t you gonna...gag me..again?” you mumble through the sloppy kisses. as much as you love having your tongue in seonghwa’s mouth, you don’t know how much longer you can take.

“depends, are you gonna say more stupid shit?” he asks teasingly and you have to smile.

“no promises,” you tell him and he kisses you quickly one time for good measure.

“i want you in a different position for this, love,” he says. “wanna hear you this time too, no gag. plus i think your panties fell onto the floor.”

“oh good, so those are getting burned,” you groan. “what am i gonna wear out of here?”

“nothing?” seonghwa replies with a devilish smirk. “that sounds nice to me.”

“ok now i want you to stop talking,” you say, placing your hand playfully over his mouth. he bites the palm of your hand and you stifle a moan.

“you liked that?” seonghwa asks with a glint in his eyes. “guess i’ll add biting to the list then.”

“how do you wanna fuck me?” you ask, ready to cut the banter and get back to seonghwa acting out some of your deepest desires.

“up against the mirror,” he says, his voice an octave lower and dripping with lust. “wanna see you watch yourself while i ruin you on my cock.”

your whole body shivers at his words and you can’t even hide it, which fuels seonghwa’s ego more than you’d like. but if it’ll get him to fuck you faster, you don’t mind. you let his hands run down your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake, before he stops at your hips and turns you toward the mirror and the sink. his hands glide up your back, over your shoulders, and back down your arms to guide you so that you’re gripping onto the sink, all the while maintaining eye contact through the mirror. you feel yourself dripping, and you wish seonghwa would just split you open on his cock already.

“getting impatient, are we?” he asks, reading your mind. “stop rubbing your thighs together. it’s not gonna make me move any faster.”

“seonghwa,” you whine, pouting just the slightest bit for full effect. “i want you to fuck me, please.”

“such good manners, baby,” he says, finally breaking eye contact with you to look down at your ass. he gives it a little squeeze before slapping each cheek consecutively, and you let out a yelp with each harsh touch. “if it’s too much, tell me, ok?”

“i’lll be fine, hwa,” you assure him.

“yeah, but still,” he says seriously. “just say the word. we go at your pace.”

“if we’re going at my pace then you need to speed it up a little bit,” you bite back, and seonghwa has you immediately eating your words as he buries himself in your cunt.

“you were saying?” he asks, eyebrow quirked with the cockiest smile on his face. you risk a look at yourself and he’s barely done anything and you already look fucked out. “that’s it, baby. keep your eyes right there.”

“seonghwa,” you moan again as he thrusts quickly, not moving much but successfully shoving himself deeper into your warmth.

“feels good?” he asks quietly, thrusting again a little quicker. you can only nod and let out a shaky breath in response, so he pulls out all the way and buries himself again, ripping a small scream from the back of your throat.

“hwa, fuck me, please,” you beg. “fuck me like you mean it.”

“as you wish,” he obeys, collecting the hair on your back and creating a grip for himself. he pulls you up slightly to create some leverage, and then he’s pounding into you so hard and so deep you feel the edge of the link leaving marks on your thighs. seonghwa’s eyes are glued to your reflection and the way your jaw seems to drop more and more with each thrust, and he moans when he feels you clench around him. “so good for me, baby, you’re taking it so well. taking good care of my cock, hm?”

“seonghwa,” you cry. “more, need something else.”

“so needy,” he scoffs. “hips up.”

you do as he says, and he places a hand at your waist and moves it so that he’s pressing a finger to your clit with each thrust. it’s a subtle touch but it’s driving you insane, and you clench around him again, grinding down when he makes contact with your clit.

“look at you,” he coos. “going crazy for my cock, my hand on your clit...fucking in the bathroom where anyone could hear us...you like it dirty and wet, don’t you my good girl?”

you come unexpectedly at the new nickname, and seonghwa groans so loud you’re sure everyone outside could hear. you can feel the mess you’ve made between your legs grow, but seonghwa keeps going well after you’ve finished.

“is it too much?” he asks quietly and you shake your head no.

“wanna help you get off,” you say breathlessly. “wanna make you come.”

“i’m almost there love,” he says. “just keep bein’ good for me.”

you try to time your movements with his thrusts, squeezing him as he retreats and meeting him when he thrusts back in. he never moved his hand, so this is putting more friction on your clit again, and you’re surprised the overstimulation hasn’t gotten to you yet. seonghwa thrusts deeply and starts losing his breath, so he takes a minute to still inside you.

“fuck, i’m not gonna last much longer,” he says. “where do you want me to come?”

“anywhere.”

“no, y/n, tell me where-”

“i don’t care, hwa,” you whine. “just want you to come. i might come with you.”

you feel his cock twitch at that, and he smiles that devil’s smile again.

“fucked you that good, huh?” he asks, and you reach behind you to pinch his side.

“just hurry up and come,” you say.

“wherever i want?” he asks for confirmation.

“wherever you want,” you agree, and he meets your eyes in the mirror.

“then i’m gonna fill you up so i can watch your pussy leak,” he says. “how’s that sound?”

“ideal actually,” the words barely leaving your lips before he thrusts so hard your arms give out, and the grip he’s kept on your hair is the only thing keeping you upright. you moan at the pull, and moan again at the perfect way he’s sliding through your cunt, and you’re squeezing around him just right, and-

“fuckfuckfuckfuck,” he curses, hips sputtering as you feel his come coating your walls. he plugs you up with his cock and stops moving, focusing more on your clit again as he rubs until you’re bucking up into his hand and chanting his name as you come one final time. you feel his release start to drip out around his cock, and he groans as he scoops some of it up and brings it to your lips. you don’t need a command this time, your mouth open and ready as he watches you take them in through the mirror. you feel his dick twitch at the sight, and you start pulling away so he doesn’t get hard again and try to make you come a fourth time in less than an hour. your legs are shaky as he pulls out, and seonghwa audibly groans as he watches his come leak from your pussy.

“that’s beautiful,” he tells you, pushing some of it back in as you look around for your clothes. “you did so good for me.” you can’t help the way you clench at his words, and seonghwa smiles to himself. “glad you came out tonight?”

“mhm,” you squeak, unsure that you can speak properly just yet.

“what are you looking for?” seonghwa asks, picking up on your frantic eyes.

“my panties?”

“they fell, remember?”

“oh shit,” you groan, peeking the fabric that’s mocking you from the floor near the first stall. “shit then i need to get cleaned up.”

“you’re not gonna leave it in?” seonghwa asks with a pout. “but i worked really hard.”

“you’re disgusting,” you laugh as you try to distract yourself from thinking about how hot it is that seonghwa’s come is actively dripping down your legs.

“just pull your pants up and keep your legs closed,” he tells you. “we probably won’t be here much longer anyway.”

“how do you know that?”

“hongjoong’s set most likely ended in between your second and third orgasms? so i bet we’re the only ones of our group left.”

“i’m sorry we missed his set,” you begin, and seonghwa silences you with a kiss.

“are you kidding me? this show was a hell of a lot better.”

after you fucked seonghwa in the bathroom, you casually went back out to your table only to find that, yep, hongjoong’s set was over, and all of their friends had left. seonghwa insisted on driving you home and you laughed together when he plugged his phone into his car and there was a slurry of texts from hongjoong cussing hwa out for choosing a quick fuck over his best friend.

seonghwa was a complete gentleman the whole way home, quieting any question in your mind that he might spend the rest of the night with you. he politely kissed you goodnight, and waited for you to get inside safely before he left, but that was it. for days, actually. he didn’t work the next time you were scheduled, which was odd, and then the next sunday he was mysteriously placed with the toddler class instead of in the infant room with you. you thought you could try to get there early to (jokingly) ask what the fuck was going on, but what you find upon entering the church stops you cold.

the service must have just let out, based on how many people there are in the lobby, so it would be hard for anyone else to spot seonghwa, nestled over in the corner. but seeing as you’ve been semi-obsessed with the man since you started working here, you spot him immediately. you’re so hyperfocused on him it almost takes you a minute to realize there’s a girl hanging onto his arm, and you feel sick.

who knew the sweet boy from church could break your heart so easily?

you don’t even know who she is, so you shouldn’t freak out over it too much, but the thoughts inside your head can’t be tamed. did seonghwa just want to get into your pants, and now he’s moved onto his next victim? or, maybe worse, he was in a relationship the whole time and you just fucked a man who has an entire girlfriend. that makes you feel like the bad person, so you decide to pick the first option, painting seonghwa as the villain. sweet, starry eyed seonghwa, who started bringing you coffee each week and saving your favorite snacks for the two of you to share while the babies slept. kind seonghwa who spoke to the babies like they were gifts from god himself. lovely seonghwa who you caught staring at you at least twice every day since you’ve started working together. maybe you had just read him wrong, and the baby-whisperer thing is just a front so he can be a dick on the side and no one will bat an eye. whatever it is, you’re upset, and you can’t help but think that if you never took this job in the first place you wouldn’t be about to cry in the nursery at the thought of seonghwa with someone else.

while you’re having an internal crisis, one of the other sunday school teachers pops her head in to say hi and make a comment about seonghwa not being with the babies today.

“that’s weird, isn’t it?” she asks, and you simply nod. “he sure loves these babies. and you, but you didn’t hear that from me.” you fake a little giggle as she mimics locking her lips, and you turn to the changing table to look busy. she gets the hint and makes another comment that goes unheard by you, and you’re left alone until you hear the other nursery worker unlocking the baby gate and stepping inside. a little part of you hopes it’s seonghwa and he just has an evil twin hanging around, but a quick look over your shoulder proves you wrong. you’d let your mind linger on the frustration inside you, but the first set of babies are arriving, so you let the mindless tasks of your job take over for the time being.

you’re able to keep your mind off seonghwa until it’s time to leave and you see him coming down the hall from the toddler room. he starts to wave, but you turn around so quickly he gets the feeling that something is wrong. it’s not that he’s avoiding you, well, not on purpose. he is trying to sort through some feelings he doesn’t quite understand, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t wanna be around you since you slept together. but obviously that’s not the way you feel. he lets you turn around in a huff and leave before he can call for your attention, and he settles on trying to talk again another day.

“ms pat, caleb is dirty again,” you semi-complain, telling the other adult in the infant room that the baby you’re holding basically just shat on you. it’s a tuesday night, you’ve got too many babies that came from the same bible study, and seonghwa is yet again nowhere to be seen. you heard something about a shift in the childcare schedule, so maybe he’s in another room...again. regardless, you’ve got a pooping baby in your arms, and your new room buddy jumps into action so you make the pass quickly, quick enough that the innocent baby doesn’t even know what’s going on. with your hands free, you start cleaning up the toys littering the floor when you hear a voice by the door clearing their throat.

“hi y/n,” seonghwa says quietly, trying not to disturb the babies’ peace. “can i talk to you for a minute?”

“kinda busy, seonghwa,” you say in an irritated voice. “shouldn’t you be in your new room anyway?”

“i’m taking a kid to the potty,” he explains, and you roll your eyes.

“you’re an adult, please say anything else.”

“y/n,” he says again. “please. come talk to me, just one minute.”

“i can’t seonghwa, i’m working.”

“she can leave,” ms pat says from the corner of the room. “i’ve got it.”

you look up from the toys you’re trying to line up perfectly, and you catch seonghwa’s cocky smirk as he nods his head toward the hall. you groan and stand, assuring the baby room that you’ll be right back and then seonghwa is opening the baby gate for you. you get a couple steps away from any of the open nursery rooms, and then you turn to face seonghwa.

“what do you want.”

“your new friend seemed pretty eager to get rid of you,” he jokes. “you being mean to the babies again?”

“not any meaner than normal,” you say. “i’m a ray of sunshine in there.”

“like you are right now?” he starts, and you scoff.

“oh please. i have the right to act this way,” you say. “why haven’t i heard from you since we had sex?”

“shh!” seonghwa semi-shouts, reaching to cover your mouth but you step away. “jesus y/n, we’re still at church.”

‘and you just said jesus’ name in vain,” you point out with a cock of your head. “so i guess we’re both sinners today.”

“i’m sorry,” he says quickly. “i didn’t mean to go radio silent on you.”

‘that’s fine,” you say, starting back toward your classroom. “thanks for the apology.”

“wait-” he says, grabbing your arm. “let me finish.”

“i let you finish once, that’s enough i think.”

“y/n c’mon,” he sighs. “what’s gotten into you?”

“i saw you with a girl the other sunday,” you begin. “she was hanging onto you like she was pretty comfortable with it. not sure who she is but i’m also not sure i wanna be in the middle of that.”

“who?” seonghwa asks, eyes wide and sparkling, and you groan.

“ugh, nothing. please, let me go back to work.”

“no, no, you thought i was with someone else?” he starts again, cornering you against the wall so you can’t try to leave anymore. you watch as he flashes back through the past few days, and it’s like you see the lightbulb of recognition go off when it connects. then, suddenly, he makes a face of disgust. “are you talking about her?”

“gee seonghwa, i don’t know,” you say. “why don’t you tell me who she is first and we’ll see if that’s who i’m thinking of.”

“do you know san?” he asks out of no where. “the dick-ish dude that’s our age? he sings in the choir.”

“was he the girl?”

“no,” seonghwa laughs. “that’s his girlfriend.”

“you’re digging yourself a deep, dark hole, park.”

“stop talking,” he snaps. “that was san’s girlfriend. or ex, i should say. she was trying to make him jealous, for some reason i choose not to learn the details of, and i was the victim. apparently she’s as much of a dick as he is, so she’d been involving a lot of innocent bystanders in their fights lately.”

“oh.”

“yeah,” he nods. “so you saw her hanging off of me? did you see me push her away and knock her right into the assistant pastor?”

“ha, no i did not,” you chuckle. “wish i had though.”

“i can try to recreate it for you,” he teases, and you roll your eyes. “i can’t believe you were this upset over that.”

“it wasn’t just that,” you whine. “yes, i was upset that you might’ve been with someone so soon after we fucked, but i still have not heard from you since and that’s why i’m still so mad at you. you’re not even working in the baby room anymore, so it feels like you’re avoiding me.”

“i’m sorry,” seonghwa nods. “i shouldn’t have ignored you. and didn’t you read the childcare emails last week? the toddler teachers got covid through their bible study, so i’m filling in until they’re better.”

“oh great, so i’m jealous and illiterate,” you nod. “good. love that for me.”

“you were jealous?” seonghwa asks with a smile and you groan again.

“seonghwa, yes, yes i was jealous. i’m jealous of the babies that you hug and kiss because i wish you’d do that to me, of course i was jealous of a girl throwing herself at you.”

you stop for a second and realize the confession you just made, and you feel your face flush. seonghwa shifts too, moving from just casually keeping you against the wall to pushing you into it with his hips. his hands rest at your waist, giving it reassuring squeezes as he speaks.

“as precious as that confession was,” he starts. “i did need some time away from you.” you start to pull away, and he shakes his head. “no, wait. i needed to cool down after we fucked because i was afraid the next time i saw you i would admit how hopelessly in love with you i am. and that’s a lot, right after sex, so i’m sorry that i took a few days and handled it poorly. i was trying to figure out my feelings, and also planning a whole confession, which was a waste of time apparently.”

“you’re hopelessly in love with me?” you ask, a smile creeping onto your lips. “why don’t you act like it then?”

then he’s kissing you, hands tracing your hips and traveling up your sides to cup your cheeks. he deepens the kiss as your hands wrap around his neck, and he mumbles into your lips “i’ve liked you since high school, and fell in love with you when i saw you with the babies for the first time, i think. still processing it though.”

“well,” kiss, “i think,” kiss, “it was the same,” kiss, “for me,” kiss.

“wait, really?” seonghwa asks, pulling away from you with a smile that lights up his eyes. another kiss. “why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“still processing,” you tease, and with the next kiss seonghwa bites down on your lip in retaliation. “hey, at least we were idiots in love together.”

“i would prefer to just be in love with you,” he says seriously, finally looking up at you with something quiet and meaningful in his gaze. “i think i love you, y/n.”

“i think i love you too, seonghwa.”

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