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chimcess · 2 months

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Waterlog || pjm (2)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 11.5k+ 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: PINING, sexual tension, sad backstory, parental issues, more than likely bad swimming terminology, probably some bad work out advice, i'm trying my best lol, tae is too much but i love him, talks of past drug use (not reader or jimin), strong language, mental health things, medication use, allusions to depression, did i say pining?, reader is horny and awkward 99% of the time, can we blame her?, mood swings, i think they are so cute together, i promise more romance is coming soon A/N: Howdy. I know we're having a pretty slow start, but I think it'll be worth it in the end. I enjoy a good slow burn, especially when there's so much awkward sexual tension involved. Thanks for reading!!!

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Waking up the next morning, I was greeted by a loud knocking on my door. Stumbling, I told whoever it was that I was on my way. The knocking stopped but was quickly followed by Violet’s loud voice. My things were here, and I needed to let the movers inside.

“Christian and Kook are here already,” She added. “Managed to get an extra pair of hands, too.”

I changed into a pair of jeans and threw on a pull over. It was not supposed to be as cold today, but I did not think a short-sleeved shirt would be enough to keep me warm. Sliding into my boots, I opened the front door.

Violet was there, her hair in a braid again, wearing a blue plaid shirt and bootcut jeans. Beside her was Jimin, a large smile already on his face. Two other men were here. I was certain I had seen one of them before. He was very handsome with a heart shaped face and soft chin, large, asymmetrical brown eyes, and downturned lips. His hair was very obviously dyed, the blue so bright when the sun hit it my eyes hurt.

The other man was less familiar. His hair was black, styled into a trendy wolf cut, with his bangs pulled out of his face into a ponytail. He had a pure, youthful, and elegant look about him, and a few piercings. There was one on his eyebrow, one on his bottom lip, and so many on each ear I could not count them all. If I could describe him in a single word, it would be cartoonish. His eyes took up most of his face, large and doe-like, with all of his other features soft and small. Like the blue haired man, he was very handsome.

This upset me more than it should have, because despite how wonderful they both looked, all I could think about was how much I preferred Jimin. It was incomparable, actually. While they were certainly my type, I could only see how not Jimin-like their features were.

“Good morning,” I greeted them awkwardly, my voice scratchy. “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you both.”

“It’s such an honor to meet you,” The blue haired man’s enthusiasm caught me off guard. Despite me never making the move to shake either one of their hands, he reached for mine anyway. He reminded me of a labrador retriever, and I could imagine a tail wagging in time with his vigorous handshake. “I’m Taehyung Kim. I used to watch you, like, all the time back in the day.”

I knew that name. Studying his face a little more, it hit me. Taehyung Kim, a.k.a., The Seal of Michigan, a.k.a, V. I never understood why he had been given that last one, but it must have some sort of meaning to him because the guy lights up when anyone uses it. He was a famous snowboarder and had been to the 2020 winter Olympics. He was just a few months younger than Jimin.

“That’s very kind of you to say,” I gripped his hand back a bit more now. “I watched you at the last Olympics. You did great.”

He blushed and let go of my hand, “I didn’t win anything, but I had a lot of fun.”

That was true. The kid was brand new on the scene and let some of his nerves get to him. I had learned the hard way that hesitation could ruin a great performance, but I was sure he would do better in January. The Winter Olympics were always a few months ahead of summer, and I would surely be watching Taehyung this year. If I was going to spend time with Jimin then I would need to get along with his friends.

“It’s not always about winning,” I tried to comfort him. “I didn’t win every time either.”

That placated him. Jimin quickly introduced me to Jungkook after. He was an NHL player for the Red Wings. I admitted that I had no idea who he was and never really watched hockey before, but that only made Jungkook swear to make me an avid fan before I left Michigan. For some reason, I believed him.

It did not take long for the movers to get all of my furniture and boxes into the house. With the boys’ help, I was tipping the two men much earlier than I anticipated. All three of them insisted on helping me unpack despite me telling them I could do it on my own. The place was entirely too small for the four of us, but we managed to make it work.

I had told them my bedroom was off limits. I unpacked my clothes and put my underwear away. My room was the largest in the house. With enough space for my full-sized bed, nightstands, and dresser, I was pleased. The only downside was not having a closet, but I did not bring anything nice enough for it to really matter. It was inconvenient but not the end of the world.

I was, however, happy to see more color. My blanket was dark orange, pillowcases covered in baby pink cow print, and the otter plushie Namjoon’s mom made me was resting right in between them. I installed some simple shelving above my bed, warmly lit Christmas lights wrapped around the bars, where I displayed my books and a few of my plants. The rest were lined up on the windowsill beside the bed.

Brightly colored art now hung on the walls, a large mirror above my dresser, and a peg board for my earrings made the space feel lived in. Whatever books could not fit on my shelves got stacked and put on the nightstand. I still wanted to buy a rug and curtains, but that was on the bottom of my list of priorities.

The boys were all talking and laughing as they worked which helped me relax. I hated being trapped in quiet spaces. Finished with my room, I went to check in with them and move things around. I doubted any of them would get the knick-knacks just right.

“Don’t worry about the decorations,” I said, announcing my presence. Taehyung was staring at two of my paintings with mild panic. “I’ll take that.”

Snatching the photos, I smiled at him. The living room was coming together nicely. Jungkook pushed the dark green loveseat against the wall and all of my throws were on top of it. My largest potted plant was beside it and I decided then I would keep it there. Moving the throw pillows to the floor, I started to put my wall art up. Hoseok complained that I was going to become a hoarder if I bought any more shit. Andrea, however, said that I had great taste, so I listened to her instead.

“You’re a big face of Earthy colors,” Jungkook said, looking around the house. “Lots of plants, too.”

I shrugged, “My fiancé had a lot of succulents and stuff, so I guess it rubbed off on me after a while.”

In truth, Namjoon not only had succulents and cacti, but an entire apartment filled with plants. He had a small garden in the back, vegetables and herbs growing in despite the weather in Colorado making it difficult. The man had a green thumb and loved taking care of things. I had been in charge of them once we moved in together and learned to love it. Even after he died, I couldn’t imagine not having at least five plants in the house.

I noticed the room had gone eerily quiet. I realized then what I had said. It was the first time I had spoken about Namjoon with any of them. Knowing I had made the atmosphere awkward, I tried to break up the tension.

“What colors do you like, Jungkook?”

I could physically feel the mood lighten.

“Black,” His reply was quick. I groaned. He laughed. “What? I like the clean look.”

“It’s not clean,” I argued. “It’s depressing.”

Taehyung took my side, “My house isn’t as decorated as yours, but I have more going on than either one of them. I’m a huge fan of video games and photography so I have a lot of stuff hanging up.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Jimin chimed in from the bathroom. He placed himself in charge of getting that room squared away. “His place isn’t as nice as yours. It’s all cluttered and disorganized."

“Nu uh,” Taehyung argued childishly.

“Dude, you have stuff everywhere,” Jungkook shot back, handing me another picture frame.

“They’re lying,” Taehyung told me.

“You’re so full of shit, Tae,” Jungkook sighed.

“Literally the dumbest thing to lie about,” Jimin snarkily threw in from the bathroom.

“Bullies,” Taehyung was addressing me again and this time I could not help my chuckles. “They always gang up on me.”

As the boys continued to bicker, I worked. I finished hanging up the art above the sofa and got to organizing the throws. Taehyung had already pulled out my rug, and I started figuring out how I wanted to place all of the floor pillows. Namjoon never used the couch, no one in his family did, and I had become so conscious of their comfort that I always had a large array of pillows on the floor for them to use. After a few years, I had joined them, and I kept up the trend once I moved to the Springs. The sofa was little more than decoration.

“Damn, these are nice.”

Looking over my shoulder, I was surprised to see Jungkook holding up one of my medals. I was positive I had not packed it and the box he was hunched over was completely unfamiliar as well. Embarrassment and anger swelled up in my chest. I had placed Minho and Tilly in charge of coordinating with the movers so I could focus on work and training Hoseok before I left. If I had to guess, Tilly had thought it wise to ship over a large package of my most prized possessions for some God forsaken reason.

“I don’t know why those are here,” I hoped my voice sounded playful and carefree. I did not want another tense moment. “One of my friends must have packed them.”

“Holy shit,” Taehyung was now holding the medal. “These are heavy. You have so many.”

Walking over to the box, I took out the rest of the medals. Tilly had only packed four of the eight Olympic medals I owned, probably running out of room. Framed photos of me swimming, with the rest of my team, and my coach were also in the box. My swimsuit from the last Olympics I competed at was folded at the very bottom of the box, my goggles and cap wrapped up in the fabric, and underneath it was something I had not been expecting. A framed photograph.

I remembered that night as if it were yesterday. I was eighteen coming off the back of two major wins and making my mark in the athletic community. I had just moved to Denver; Victor had gotten divorced the year prior and his ex-wife moved to Colorful Colorado taking his daughter with her. My coach demanded he was close enough to see her every weekend. It really did not matter to me where I lived, so it was one of the easier decisions I had to make.

I knew Hoseok lived in the area, and we had always been friendly at the meets we had in common. I ended up getting his number from Ozzie and after getting coffee I knew we would be friends for life. The picture was taken at his New Year’s Eve Party. I needed to get laid, he had said, and he knew a few guys he thought I might hit it off with. That was where I met Namjoon.

He was a college student, fresh faced and stumbling over his words. I was charmed by him almost instantly, even if Hoseok was positive the two of us were too different to last. I could recall the smell of fireworks in the air, the way his voice cracked whenever another one would go off, and how excited his eyes looked whenever I asked him about his major. Namjoon spoke for hours about Philosophy, all of his favorite poets, and the way he believed the universe worked. He was so clumsy it was practically a disability, and the loud sounds were so nerve wracking, he flinched whenever the fireworks boomed.

Picking up the small picture, I smiled. It was taken right after midnight. Hoseok’s sister said we looked so sweet that she could not help herself. I had all but ripped Namjoon’s hair out when the countdown began, kissing him before midnight ever came. His hands rested gently on my hips, and he huffed like he had run a marathon when we finally pulled apart. His breath was hot when he went back in for more, panting into my mouth as I clung to him like an addict. It was a beautiful moment. It was a moment I would never forget.

Suddenly, I was no longer mad at Matilda. I was sure it had been her who did this. Minho would not go through so much trouble if he thought it would upset me. Either way, I was happy to have the picture. While I was no longer in love with Namjoon, my heart slowly healing itself and making space for someone new, I would never forget our time together. It was too perfect, too magical; too loving to forget.

“Is that him?” Taehyung asked. The way he said it told me that he knew what had happened. I doubted there was a person in our world who didn't know. “The guy who died?”

I nodded, “His name was Namjoon.”

“Damn, that’s rough,” Jungkook’s voice was very gentle, and I could hear the compassion in it. “Sorry to hear that. Hope you’re doing okay.”

I smiled at him and nodded, “It was a few years ago.”

Taehyung was the one who broke the moment this time and I was grateful for the reprieve.

“These aren’t all of them, right?” He pointed at the medals still in the box. "Olympic medals, I mean."

I shook my head, “No but I guess she just grabbed the ones I had at my house. The other four I keep at my school. They’re in a case in my office.”

The ones Tilly had packed away were from 2012. Andrea had been the one to convince me to bring my other medals to school. Before that I had them all stored in a box in the deepest corner of my basement. I hated looking at them. Hated everything that they represented. The only reason these had been hanging up was because I could not be bothered taking them down.

“Where should we put them?” Jungkook asked.

I shrugged, “No idea. Just keep them in the box for now.”

Truthfully, I had no intention of putting them anywhere. While happy to have the photo of Namjoon and I, my feelings on dragging these things around had not changed. I would be very upset if I lost or damaged any of this stuff. Putting everything away, save the picture, I closed the box back up and placed the photo on my coffee table. I would find a better place for it later.

Like all of the times I had been around him, Jimin bled into the background. I listened for his voice, waited for him to add something to the conversation, but he kept to himself. Even when he left the bathroom and joined the three of us, he only answered in one-word sentences and made sound effects to show he was listening. Taehyung and Jungkook seemed used to it, so I had to believe this was just how Jimin normally was.

“You should come and grab some drinks with us,” Jungkook smiled at me.

The boys were going out for a late lunch since we finished a little later than we had thought we would. I was appreciative that they had invited me out but declined the offer. All of them were disappointed.

“Why not?” Taehyung wiggled a large set of keys at me. I could not imagine what all of them could be for and the sound they made when they moved bothered me. “You worried the food’s going to suck or something?”

I shook my head, laughing, “No, it’s nothing like that. I just don’t feel comfortable going to a bar.”

Jimin smiled at me, a small, tight-lipped smile, and I almost laughed at myself when I realized I was holding my breath. I was being ridiculous. I would call Hoseok tonight to get my head screwed back on.

“It’s not a bar,” It was heavenly to hear his voice again. “Taehyung and I don’t drink. Jungkook just likes to sit at the bar so he can watch the games.”

“Oh,” I replied dumbly. “I guess I can come along then.”

Jimin offered to give me a ride while Jungkook and Taehyung rode in the hockey player's beat up Jeep. He was just as quiet on the ride to the restaurant as he was back at the house, and while I wanted to break him out of whatever shell he had put around himself, I had no idea how. We were supposed to work together and barely spoke. Ozzie was not going to be happy about this.

“What time are we getting your car?”

I jumped, not prepared for the question. His eyes were still on the road, and it looked like he was forcing himself to not look my way. It hurt my feelings, but I knew I would have to get over it. Whatever his problem was, it had nothing to do with me and I would not let it get in between our working relationship.

“Whenever you want to go,” I replied, going back to looking out of the window.

“We’ll pick it up after we eat. My mom invited you over for dinner. by the way. If you're up for it.”

This had been the most he had said all day, but his voice was off. It was embarrassing how quickly I had become attuned to his little mannerisms, but I was so sure that something was wrong with him it was eerie. His tone was flat and disinterested, and I knew I had done nothing to upset him. Something was obviously bothering him, and I would have to silently support him in my own way. I was not comfortable being more upfront and something told me that Jimin would not like my overstepping.

“I might,” I purposely kept my tone light, hoping he did not realize I could see the darkness in his eyes. Looking at him, I asked, “What is she making?”

“Beef and radish stew,” The mundane topic seemed to ease his frown. “She got a yellow corvina from the Asian market yesterday so she’s going to roast it. Do you like fish?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “It sounds nice. I’ll go.”

A ghost of a smile graced his pretty face and I felt like I had won the lottery. Carefully composed, I looked back out of the window, hiding my little smile behind my hand. He was quiet again, the only sounds in the car being our breathing, but it felt lighter. Finally, I let myself admire the scenery.

Taehyung and Jungkook were already at the bar when we arrived and as soon as we sat down, the snowboarder was quick to hog all of my attention. While Jungkook watched a baseball game on the big screens, Taehyung talked animatedly about his family. Jimin was quietly sipping on a Coke in the seat next to me. It was strange to see how easily his friends ignored him. Like they knew he did not feel like talking.

“My sisters are both in college,” Taehyung continued to ramble. “Twins. It was a nightmare being the baby brother.”

I nodded along and tried my best to keep up with him. I kept getting distracted by Jimin. He barely moved and seemed to be mindlessly watching the tv. He looked so sad it broke my heart. Still, no one else said anything so I kept my thoughts to myself.

“Oh!” Taehyung gasped, noticing a few people who walked in. “I’m going to go say ‘hi.’ It was so great meeting you.”

With a bright smile, Taehyung told the boys about the group and Jungkook decided to join him. Jimin did not even acknowledge he had said anything. Leaving us alone, the restaurant was loud and filled with their chattering.

“Are you hungry?” I asked, trying to make conversation. Picking up the menu the bartender had left with Taehyung when we first arrived, I gave it a quick once over. “We can split an appetizer.”

Jimin looked tired and sad, but I did not know what to say or do for him. We were not lovers, not even friends. We were a pair of strangers who were expected to work together. This seemed much easier over the phone. I took a nervous sip of my drink.

“What are you thinking?” Just the sound of him talking eased my anxiety.

“Uh,” I had barely looked at their menu and pointed to a random item. “Fried pickles?”

Jimin smiled lazily and looked at me, his eyes amused.

“You don’t sound very sure of yourself.”

I shrugged, embarrassed. “I just said the first thing I saw.”

Putting his cup down, Jimin grabbed the menu from my hands and laid it flat on the bar. We leaned over the small paper, our knees touching. I could smell his cologne now and my mouth watered. He smelled so good I struggled to focus.

“Most of the shit here is awful,” His voice had more life in it now and I was glad to see the corners of his mouth pulled up. “Only things worth getting are the chips and salsa, fried cheese, and pasties. The pizza is fine, too, but not worth the money.”

Talking distracted him from whatever had been on his mind, and it made Jungkook and Taehyung’s behavior odd. They were obviously very close, but if I could see how much happier he looked when he was shooting the shit, how couldn’t they? They probably knew something I didn’t, but it did nothing but rub me the wrong way. My friends would annoy me until I had no choice but to talk back.

“Chips are usually pretty safe,” We both agreed on it. “Do you just want chips? I don’t mind getting you a burger or something.”

He shook his head, “Like I said, most of the shit here is awful. Don’t waste your money.”

I ordered the chips for us, and the bartender was happy to help us out. This place was pathetically empty save us and the group Jungkook and Taehyung ditched us for. They were very loud and rowdy, something Jimin said was completely normal. Apparently, they all knew one another but he hadn’t felt like spending time with any of them.

“Are you feeling alright?” I asked, heart pounding. My anxiety over the question was ridiculous, but I felt like this was a good moment to ask. We were both comfortable and the tightness around his eyes was finally eased.

“Just one of those days,” He replied, voice soft.

I sighed, “I get them, too. They’re the fucking worst.”

He chuckled darkly, “It’s like you wake up and that’s already taken all of the energy you had for the day.”

“Why’d you come to the house?” I asked, flagging the bartender for a refill. “I wouldn’t have been upset if you bailed.”

Jimin flushed, “I said I was coming so I came.”

No, I thought, you thought I was going to be mad if you hadn’t shown up. Hamilton had this poor kid so fucked up and scared it pissed me off. As long as I knew Matt, he had always been an ass, but to think he had his trainee putting shit before his mental health and wellbeing made whatever sliver of respect I had for him vanish.

I took a long sip of my drink, “We can’t work together if you don’t talk to me. That will piss me off way more than you canceling on me.”

“Okay,” He let out a very large breath. “I’ll let you know next time.”

As we ate our chips, we moved into safer waters. Jimin was still less talkative in person, but nowhere near as tense as he had been all morning. I found that music was one of his favorite things, and I discussed my own interests in more depth and detail than I ever had before. Jimin’s taste was varied but stuck mostly in 90s R&B and soft Indie artists I had never heard of. At some point I ordered spicy wings and had to admit Jimin was right- they really were awful.

We left the other two behind to go and pick up my car. Jungkook and Taehyung seemed more than happy to watch us leave and the large table barely acknowledged my presence. Jimin accepted their happy shouts when he approached, hugging the ones who stood up to greet him, and forced one of his small, pitiful smiles at a particular brunette who kept batting her eyelashes at him. He introduced me but none of them seemed to really care. Especially the brunette.

“Let me get your number,” Taehyung said to me, holding out a hand for my phone. “We need to hang out again.”

I was nervous about giving him a way to contact me. He reminded me of Tilly, though ten times more energetic, and she always found a way to get on my nerves (the box being one of many examples). Taehyung had yet to overstep the imaginary boundaries I had, but his complete lack of personal space etiquette was astounding. He touched me more in one day than any of my friends in an entire year. He seemed like the type of person to text every day and send a million pictures of himself doing random shit. Even with that in mind, I handed my phone over. He was too nice to say no to.

“Do you like sushi?” Taehyung asked, handing me my phone. “There’s a great place in Detroit we can go to.”

The idea of being trapped in a car with the snowboarder for 45 minutes was not appealing. I could only imagine how much he could talk when he was really excited about something. I would entertain the idea if Jungkook or Jimin came as a buffer, especially if one of them could sit up front. Taehyung yapping away in my ear would give me the biggest migraine I had ever had, and my anxiety over not being entirely focused on the road would make me snippy and rude.

“Only if I can come,” Jungkook piped up. “You’re not going to Bash without me, dude.”

“Well yeah,” Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Y/N has to meet Milo and Darcy,” He looked at me, grinning happily. “I think you would really get along.”

I had no idea who either of those people were, but I did not want to ask any questions. Jimin was inching back towards me and telling the others goodbye, and I did not want to hold him up. Taehyung started making plans that I did not pay any attention to. He could always text me when he figured out what he wanted.

“We have to get going,” Jimin was back beside me. “Y/N’s car is sitting at the dealership. It was good seeing everyone.”

I waved at the table and started walking away before Taehyung could touch me. He was definitely a hugger. Jimin was quick to catch up with me, giggling about my “escape.” It had started to snow again, gentle flurries twisting and turning in the wind, and I had forgotten my heavy jacket at home. The long sleeve I was wearing would do nothing to keep me warm.

“Here,” Jimin taking off his jacket. “You need this more than me.”

Draping it over my shoulders, Jimin told me to zip it up. Stunned, I moved on autopilot and shoved my arms through the sleeves. Everything smelled like him, oranges and spice, and his warmth was still clinging to the thick fleece. I could not remember the last time someone had given me their jacket. Dazed, I followed Jimin out to the parking lot, eyes locked on his back. He was in nothing but a thin, black and white striped shirt.

“Thanks,” I said once we were both in the truck, already shrugging out of the light beige jacket. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He held up a hand, “Keep it. The heater is out.”

I shook my head, “What about you?”

He reached into the back and held up a purple hoodie.

“I’ll be alright.”

I put the jacket back on and buckled in. Jimin slipped into the sweatshirt and started the truck. After buckling up, he backed out of the parking lot. I caught sight of the brunette as we left. She was red faced, shouting into her phone. I looked away. Whoever she was angry with was definitely getting an earful.

“Wonder what Tom did this time,” Jimin mumbled.

“Hm?”

“Tom’s Annie’s boyfriend,” He supplied. “They’re always arguing. Worse than Jungkook and Darcy, they break up every other week, but Tom and Annie are at each other's throats every other day.”

I grimaced, “Sounds like my friends. They finally called it quits last year, but they were insufferable.”

Jimin chuckled, “So, what’s Colorado like?”

I talked to him about Andrea and Seokjin first, how we met and how much I loved their daughter. Hoseok and I’s friendship got quite a few laughs out of him, but those quickly died off when I brought up Namjoon. I told him about the day we met and the coffee date that happened a few days later, and that seemed to brighten up the mood again. Namjoon stories were bittersweet but took up such a large chunk of my life it was impossible to gloss over.

“When’s the toxic couple coming up?” He joked.

“I’m getting there,” I replied.

Hoseok and Matilda had known one another longer than the rest of us. Growing up together, no one was surprised when they finally hooked up in high school. It was, however, short lived bliss. Matilda got caught up in the wrong crowd and began doing drugs. Hoseok had tried to help her get through it, but they could never see eye-to-eye. That started their toxic cycle of getting back together, Tilly going to rehab, her relapsing, and them falling out again. It was not until she went two years ago that it managed to stick, but their relationship was too tumultuous to make it very far. They decided to stay friends and she became a constant member in our group.

“That’s crazy,” Jimin shook his head. “Happy she’s doing better now.”

“Me too.”

The rest of the drive was spent talking about Colorado and how beautiful it was. He stayed away from swimming, mostly wanting to hear about the school I worked at and the places I went to in my free time. He kept me talking for the entire 45-minute car ride, question after question keeping me on my toes. He did not like talking about himself, whenever I tried to switch the conversation to his own interests he barely responded before going back to his interrogation. Before I knew it, we were pulled into the dealership and getting down.

“You can leave,” I told him.

“I want to make sure you’re good before I go,” He replied.

The cashier was lovely, her voice bubbly and sweet as she helped me out. Jimin lingered longer than he needed to, helping me fill out my paperwork and making small talk with the dealer. I took my keys and went for a quick test drive before I was finally able to convince Jimin to leave.

The drive back was quiet. I was used to the silence when I drove, but Jimin’s voice had been soothing. Frankly, I was a bit bored without him around. I decided to call Matila and ask about my medals. She apologized but I doubted how sincere she actually was. After catching up with her, hearing all about the guy she went on a date with, and a five-minute rant about Hoseok spending way too much money on Minho’s birthday present, I hung up before she could give me a migraine. As much as I liked Tilly, she was someone I had very little patience for and her voice, high pitched and loud, was like nails on a chalkboard.

I got back in town a little after 3. Violet and Calvin were both home and watching some black and white Western. Calvin offered to make me lunch, but I was quick to decline. I just wanted some space.

As soon as I got in my apartment, I curled up in bed to take a nap. I was overwhelmed after talking so much and desperately needed to recharge. I set an alarm for 5 so I could make it over to the Park house in time for dinner. Quickly sending a quick text to Hoseok, I turned on thunderstorm sounds and closed my eyes.

Na-Yeon and James were both excited to see me, talking about their days and asking how I was settling in. Eloise was there as well, the twins in the back room playing again. Jimin was going to be late. He had gone for a last-minute swim with Milo. When I asked them who that was, it was Eloise who answered.

“That’s Vincent’s fiancé.”

“Who?” I was even more confused.

“Taehyung,” Na-Yeon answered. “You know he hates that name as much as Jimin hates his, Lou."

Eloise blushed, her entire face turning a bright shade of red.

“Sorry,” She scratched behind her ear. Looking back at me, she sighed, “We went to school together. Old habit.”

Now V made sense. It never occurred to me that Jungkook and Taehyung could have their own American names, and neither one introduced themselves that way either. James came to take the seat beside mine, the dining table more crowded then was reasonably necessary.

“Does Jungkook have a second name?” I asked.

“Ian,” Eloise replied. “He goes by both, so I don’t think he cares as much as Tae and Jimin. I know his girlfriend uses both.”

I assumed that was Darcy. Why else would Taehyung assume she would go with us on a day trip to Detroit?

“They call him Ian on the team, too,” James chimed in. “His name is too hard.”

Namjoon never had an American name, at least, not one I had ever heard. The only person I could think of was Hoseok. A lot of his friends called him Jay, something about an old nickname from school, but that was it. Seokjin just went by Jin, Namjoon went by Joon, and Minho went by…well, Minho. None of their parents used American-Friendly names, and Seokjin’s father’s English was still poor even after living here for so long.

“Y/N,” Na-Yeon brought me back to the conversation. “What banchan do you like?”

“My eomeo-nim made these delicious, braised potatoes,” I answered, thinking back on our dinners together. “Kimchi, of course. My ex made the best braised lotus roots. They were always yummy.”

Na-Yeon seemed pleased by my answer. James and Eloise started rambling about their own favorites. Unlike Namjoon, Mr.Park was a big fan of seafood. He grew up in Busan near the Jagalchi Market, which, according to him, was the largest seafood market in South Korea. Eloise talked a little about her favorite Korean dishes before jumping into what she grew up eating. Her father was Scottish and her mother French, so one night she was eating Scottish Pie and daube niçoise the next. It was fun hearing more about Eloise. I would have never guessed she was a first generation American.

“It’s something Tony and I had in common,” She added. “He learned quite a bit of French before he died. Unfortunately, my Korean is taking much longer.”

“Mine isn’t that great either,” I admitted. “Namjoon’s family spoke English and never liked to make me feel awkward. I can follow a conversation fairly well, but only if you speak slowly.”

James laughed, “I will remember that.”

The front door opened, and I could hear loud talking. Eloise sighed. Whoever was with Jimin did not pass her inspection it would seem. She and James seemed to have a small conversation with their eyes. The men were still at the front of the house. Finally, Eloise looked away and scowled.

“Must have brought Milo and Tae over,” She muttered. “I’m going to go check on the twins.”

Eloise left the table. James told me to ignore her. She and Milo did not get along for whatever reason and she chose to ignore him. It was not my business, so I accepted that explanation.

I prepared myself for a bad interaction. So far, Eloise was such a quiet and sweet person I could not imagine anyone actively disliking her. Then again, this was Taehyung’s fiancé, and he was the nicest, most bubbly person I had ever met. It did not seem likely that he would hang around bad company. It could just be a case of personalities clashing.

“Annyeong,” Taehyung greeted us brightly, immediately finding me. “Babe, come say hi.”

A massive, pale man followed in behind him. Milo was a good-looking guy, bright blue eyes and dirty blonde hair, with a solid build. He reminded me of the male swimmers I worked with, his huge size and bulging muscles intimidating. His fashion sense was not as good as Taehyung’s. Ill-fitting black bottoms and a Rick and Morty t-shirt that made me want to roll my eyes. I was definitely biased, my loyalties already in Eloise’s corner. I did not need to know a backstory to be weary. The dude looked enough like Matthew Hamilton to make me dislike him just off principal.

“Milo, Y/N,” Taehyung introduced, gesturing between the two of us. Behind him, Jimin snuck into the kitchen and gave his mom a kiss on the cheek as a greeting. He looked nice in his gray tracksuit. “Y/N, this is my fiancé, Milo.”

I managed a disingenuous smile, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” He replied. His voice was smokey.

“Where’s Lou?” Jimin asked, coming around to greet his father.

“Checking on Harper and Cam,” James told him.

There was not enough room for all of us to sit at the table and I ended up giving up my seat to Na-Yeon. Jimin helped her set the table while I was put in charge of gathering Eloise and the kids. Walking down the hallway, I found the kids’ playroom and knocked.

“Dinner’s ready,” I announced, poking my head inside.

The room was bigger than I thought it would be. Each side was decorated in stereotypical boy and girl colors, Cameron’s bed and wall art a wide variety of blues and teals with dinosaur decals on the walls, while Harper’s was a mix up of baby pink and white. Her bed had more stuffed animals on it than I could count and all of them seem well loved. Their toys split the room in half, a large, circle rug in the middle of it all. Most of the toys were thrown on the floor and Eloise was telling them it was time for them to clean it up.

The children looked so cute in their little matching outfits. Harper’s black hair was braided down her back and the ribbon tied at the end of it matched her cream-colored overalls. Cam’s hair was on the longer side as well, falling to his shoulders with a slight wave. His bright red converse stuck out against the rather plain outfit he was wearing, and I had to assume he put up a fight behind them. Harper started to sing the Barney song as they cleaned.

“Feeling, okay?” I asked their mother. She was sitting in the chair on Harper’s side. “You ran off pretty quickly.”

She shook her head, “It’s nothing. We’ve never gotten along.”

I raised an eyebrow, “Do you want to eat here? I’ll sit with you.”

She smiled, “We can play nice, don’t worry. Thanks, though. I appreciate you asking.”

Dinner was as uneventful as Eloise said it would be. She and Milo greeted one another and then acted as if the other did not exist. I stood up to eat, Taehyung, Milo, and Jimin with me while the others sat down. Cam was excited to talk about school and Harper rambled on and on about her imaginary friend Butter Squash. They were both very sweet and it made me miss Dani. The last time I saw her was when we went skating the weekend before I left.

Taehyung was as talkative as ever. His touches also become bolder. By the time I left, he had an arm around my shoulders and his body pressed against my side. Milo was unbothered by our closeness. He and Jimin spoke the most and again the guy I knew when no one else was around seemingly vanished. This one was too put together, too closed off, and no one, and I mean no one, seemed to care. Every time he laughed half-heartedly or nodded along with whatever Milo was talking about, I felt more confused. Why was he so hot and cold all of the time?

During my drive back home, I tentatively attempted to listen to the radio. I only lasted around a minute or so before I switched it off. I needed silence. The Parks were such a lovely family, but tonight was too much. Between unpacking and Taehyung, I was drained. Hoseok had asked me to call him when I got home but I was going to wait. If it was important enough, he would call me himself.

I fell asleep as soon as my face hit the pillow, my medication making it a dreamless night.

The rest of the week was quiet. I called my friends back home to check in Thursday morning and was happy about Hoseok’s progress. The kids were really liking him, and he thought he may have a permanent job for next year if I decided to keep working with Jimin. I told him not to get his hopes up.

Jimin and I spoke through text daily. He was still going about his normal routine while I brainstormed training and scheduling. By Saturday I was ready to start testing out different ideas. We both seemed eager to get started, actually. Sunday, like I expected, was very quiet. That was his mom’s day, so I tried not to bother him. Violet and Calvin kept me company.

The Andersons were nice people. Violet was always coming to the back and inviting me to join them for breakfast, and her husband enjoyed asking me about my life. Calvin was far more personable than his wife was, but they managed to balance one another out. Sunday evening was the first time I noticed Calvin’s memory issues. He had no idea who I was. I came inside and Violet had to tell him I was their daughter Nancy’s babysitter. He was under the assumption that she was still 10. I left them alone when Violet asked me to pick her up from school. She came out back a few hours later to thank me for going along with everything, and I made sure that she had my phone number in case she needed me to help out if things got out of hand.

It was still dark outside when I left Monday morning. Jimin and I agreed to meet up at 6 am to start our day, but I wanted to get to the gym early. Time to set up and get myself in the right headspace was important to me.

The location he had sent me was more remote than I had originally anticipated. Jimin owned the little gym. It had been a swim school in the past and the place he had first learned he loved the water. He and his mom went to classes together when he was young. The place had been too expensive for the previous owners to keep up with and they were planning on selling it, but Jimin bought it off of them and converted it into a public gym/pool.

In our text exchanges he called it his retirement plan, but I was sure the place meant more to him than that. He had no interest in it until after the cancer diagnosis. If I was to over analyze it, I would say he was trying to hold onto a happy memory. This was their place before sickness and death ran through his family. I would imagine anyone would want to keep something that held so much sentimental value if they could.

Pulling into the parking lot, I was first struck by two things. One, it was open and there were people inside, and two, it was huge. Most of the building was nothing but windows giving me a great view of the muscled men inside. Bright fluorescent lights made my sensitive eyes hurt, and I could hear the faint sound of music coming from somewhere near the gym. The small group of men were together, all of them lifting and spotting each other while talking, and a sense of dread filled my belly.

I was always anxious when I went to a new place, but a new gym was a nightmare. I had bad experiences in the past. Overly friendly creeps who liked to stand around and watch me while I worked out. None of the guys inside gave off bad vibes, but I was still in my car and none of them laid their eyes on me. A woman in a gym was like a drop of blood in water. I had to hope they were not sharks.

Gathering courage, I grabbed my duffle and made my way inside. A pretty, dark-skinned, young woman was sitting at the receptionist desk, and I felt more at ease. If they left her alone then maybe they would not cause me too much trouble either. The music was louder inside, and I recognized the Ciara song. It was a great one for cardio. Fighting the urge to dance, I greeted the receptionist. She put down her magazine and gave me an award-winning grin. She had a nice, dimpled smile.

“Hi there,” She had a thick, Southern accent and I could not tell you where she might be from. I was awful at telling them apart. “Do you have your membership card?”

I laughed nervously, my grip on my bag tightening. “No. I’m here to train with Jimin Park. He said I should have something on file.”

She nodded, her smile unwavering as she looked at her computer and asked for my name.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” I replied, foot tapping along to the Lil Wayne song that came on. I had this one on my own workout playlist back in 2008. I could not help mumbling the words under my breath, “She-she-she lick me like a lollipop.”

“Found you,” The girl grabbed a few sheets of paper from a pile on her side of the desk. “Just fill these out for me and we’ll get your card printed. Your fees have been paid already so no need to worry about that.”

I nodded, half listening. This song was great. Why has it been so long since I last heard it? I went to the gym all the time. I needed to put it back on my playlist. Honestly, the entire Carter III needed to find its way back into my rotation.

“My name’s Giselle if you need anything,” The receptionist pointed to a cluster of chairs right at the front entrance. “You’re super early so Christian isn’t here yet, but I’ll give you the key to the pool room so you can do whatever you need before the boss gets in.”

I smiled at her, “Thank you, Giselle.”

“Anytime, ma’am.”

It took me a few minutes to fill the paperwork out and scan my ID, but Giselle made everything as quick as she could. One of the men working out had come by to ask for some wipes to clean off a few of the machines but left without anything more than a ‘good morning’ thrown in my direction. When we passed by the rest of them on the way to the pool house, we were completely ignored, so it was safe for me to say that they would not be a problem for me in the future. Creeps were never subtle about their creepiness.

“I have to double check with Christian, but I think I’m supposed to give you a spare key,” Giselle said, unlocking the pool. “I’m just going to be sure before I promise you anything. Don’t want to get fired.”

I could tell she was joking. Jimin did not strike me as the type of guy to fire anyone over something like that. It only made sense for me to have a spare key since we would be coming around so much, and I would feel bad about disrupting the staff whenever I needed to get inside. They did not get paid enough to deal with that on top of all of the rest of their duties.

“We keep it locked until 9,” Giselle continued, leading the way inside. “Then we close it back up at 5. Maintenance comes in every Tuesday to treat the water, so you’ll have to be out of here no later than 7. Boss man knows this already so you shouldn’t have any problems with that.”

The pool room was very bland and bare bones. The smell of chlorine hung heavily in the air while the lights around the pool walls illuminated the dark room. It was very big, and I itched to go for a quick dip. The coolness of the water would be nice against my skin. I had grown hot with nerves and gotten a little sweaty.

“We have a few other staff members that will be in around the same time the boss man comes in,” Giselle continued to give me the rundown. “I’m sure he’ll introduce you to everyone just in case you need anything. I’d say make nice with Yoongi first. He’s our in-house massage therapist.”

Pointing to a door on the far-left wall, Giselle let me know that was the pool locker room and the door right next to it was a shortcut to the back offices. Management, marketing, and facility supervisors were usually all back there and I would more than likely never see them. They were not the most social people and worked from home a lot. I could tell by Giselle’s voice that she did not particularly care for management.

“Drew should be here by now,” She checked her smart watch. “She’s the general manager. I’m going to go and grab her and see about that key. She might come back to say ‘hi’ but don’t hold your breath.”

I chuckled, “That bad?”

Giselle rolled her eyes, “Drew’s fine, but Dominic is usually following her around everywhere and he’s annoying. You’ll get what I mean if you ever see them together.”

I laughed, “I’ve had my fair share of weirdos. Thanks again. I appreciate you showing me around.”

She beamed, “It wasn’t a problem. You gave me a reason to get up from the desk, so I’d say it’s a win.”

We spoke for a few more minutes until a very large, bulky man popped his head in looking for her. His black t-shirt clung to him tightly and his shorts were a hideous neon pink color. He did have a nice smile, one that took up most of his face and teeth so white they looked fake. Giselle introduced me very quickly, and the man, Sam, turned out to be one of the personal trainers on staff.

“You’re the Olympian, right?” Sam asked. Jimin must really like people who talked a lot, because I had never met more outgoing people in my life before moving here. Everyone he surrounded himself with was just full of energy, and I wondered if it was purposeful. Jimin himself was a rather quiet and sad person. “Jimin talks about you all the time.”

I laughed awkwardly, face heating, “That’s me.”

“Sick,” Suddenly an image of Sam surfing in California flashed through my mind. He just seemed like the type. “Well, I have to go and help out a client, but it was nice meeting you. Gigi, can you go back up front before Drew pitches a fit?”

Giselle sighed heavily, “Tell her I’m coming,” Looking at me she asked if I was okay on my own. “Come and get me if you need anything, okay?”

After assuring her that I was fine, Giselle left behind Sam. The two of them bickered like an old married couple, and I wondered about their relationship. He did call her a little nickname. I shook my head. Regardless, I had other things I needed to take care of before I could get lost in thought about two strangers.

Unpacking my duffle, I threw on my whistle and stopwatch before getting to work on my schedule. I had brought a lot of my personal swimming gear with me like training bands, coach communicator, and forearm fulcrum. Back in the day, I was the brand ambassador for Finis, so I had a lot of their products. The tracksuit I was wearing was from Speedo, and I had so much of their stuff for the same reason. Being a famous swimmer had its perks.

I had planned on doing a lot of drill and some short-burst efforts with Jimin. He had been without a PT for a few weeks now, and while I trusted him to stay in shape, it was no secret someone would be performing less on their own than with guidance. I did not want to over work him when he was, for all intents and purposes, been on a vacation. So, while I wanted to rush head-first into training, I would try to ease into things a bit before going full asshole on the kid. Like Victor would say, “Three times a week for three weeks.” After that, he was going to be at my mercy.

It was just past 6 when Jimin walked into the pool room. I was flipping through my training plan for the day and humming along to the music blasting through the speakers, echoing off the walls. Whoever was in charge of the playlist had a thing for the early 2000s.

“Morning,” His soft voice brought a smile to my face. He sounded tired. “What do you think about the place?”

Stealing a look at him, I had to hold back the gasp that I wanted to let out. He was wearing a black tank top and shorts giving me a great look at his skin. Embarrassed by my reaction, I internally scolded myself. I needed to get over this crush already. I was about to see a lot more of his body once he went to the back to change. I bit my lip. I had no idea how I was going to deal with him in a speedo.

“It’s very nice,” I was happy with how nonchalant I sounded. “Wasn’t expecting it to be so big.”

I wonder what else is big… I nibbled on the inside of my cheek. I really needed to get my mind out of the gutter. Scratch that- I should have dealt with this problem the second I realized it was there. I was going to force myself to call Hoseok today. He would know what to do, and if not, at least I could vent a little.

“Sleep okay?”

I jumped out of my ever-degrading thoughts.

“Yeah,” I sniffed. “Had fun with your mom? I wanted to give you two some space, so I stayed to myself.”

He smiled and I melted. Yeah, this needed to stop. I was too grown to be acting like this around a man.

“I appreciate it. We missed you at dinner, though. My dad kept complaining that things were quiet now.”

I chuckled, “Eloise and the kids not loud enough?”

He shook his head, “She didn’t come over.”

He tossed his sports bag next to mine and pulled out his swim gear. I caught a flash of his speedo and quickly looked away. The visuals going through my mind were distracting enough.

“Do you want to go over everything before I get changed?” Asked Jimin.

I shook my head, “No, go ahead. It’s going to be a chill day.”

“You got it, coach.”

I did not breathe until I heard the locker room door slam shut. Tossing my clipboard onto my bag, I roughly rubbed my face. I needed to pull myself together.

My attraction was easy to ignore and forget about when he was not in my face, but the second I got my eyes on him it was all I could focus on. I was awkward and fumbling all over the place whenever he was around. I focused on him far too much, far more than I should be due to our relationship, and it was driving me insane. I needed to take a breather, but I did not have enough time and I did not want to make him worried. Jimin seemed like the type of person who would become consumed by anxiety if he thought I was upset with him in any way. No, I would have to suck it up and get through this training session like an adult.

The locker room door opened. Jimin’s bare feet were loud against the gray, stone floor. I refused to look at him. I wasn’t ready yet. Bending over, I grabbed the clipboard and cleared my throat. I was hoping to get him in the water first, and then I could safely conduct myself in a professional way. The less skin I had to see at a time the better. I pointed at the pool.

“Like I said, it’s going to be an easy day,” He was walking away from me, and I felt the tightness in my chest lighten. “You’ve been without a trainer for a bit, and I’m not sure how intense your workouts have been since. Your warmup is just 10 minutes of easy swimming, and then we’ll go over our main set.”

I heard him get into the water with a splash and relaxed. I could handle him in the water. No one looked good with those stupid goggles on. I walked to the edge of the pool, clipboard in my hand, and stole a quick look.

As suspected, he did not look as potent like this. His hair was hidden beneath a red and white cap, and blue goggles obstructed most of his face. It was impossible to make out most of his body as he glided through the water, but I got a great look at his arms. He was more muscular than I gave him credit for. He was smaller and more lean than other swimmers, but I could see why he was able to dominate.

He was very fast, but I could already tell he was pushing harder than I wanted him to. Blowing my whistle, I let him know I only wanted him swimming at 80% effort. Jimin pulled a face and lifted his goggles up. Now that he was stagnant, I got a clear look at his chest and swallowed thickly. He needed to start moving or else I might have a heart attack.

“Why?” He was incredulous.

“Like I said, I don’t want you to overwork yourself. You’ve been on a vacation for four weeks now and we need to work our way back up to more intensive sets. It’ll only be for a couple of weeks.”

He pushed back again, “I’ve been coming here every day for hours. I think I’m fine.”

I shook my head, “I’m not trying to be a dick, and I’m not calling you a liar, but I am skeptical of the quality of the training.”

“But-”

“I haven’t been here to see your routine,” I cut him off before whatever smart ass comment he was planning to say could even come out. Jimin’s annoyance was plain as day, and I was not about to put up with a tantrum. “I’m known for being a hard ass, and I’m going to push you harder than you’ve ever been pushed before. You can ask Coach Bunch about me if you want. I will make sure you’re in the best shape of your life this year, but not at the expense of getting you injured.”

He took a deep breath before responding, “With all due respect, I’ve been putting in a lot of work by myself. I don’t think I need kid gloves.”

I smirked, cocking my head to the side. “Is that what you think this is?”

“Isn’t it?” He shrugged, pouting.

He was cute when he was mad.

“Humor me,” I replied. “We do things my way for the week and if I think you’re good to go by Friday then we’ll get back to normal training. How does that sound?”

Jimin thought for a moment before smiling at me.

“I can live with that.”

I chuckled, “Good to know. Now, put your goggles back on and finish your warmup. We’re wasting time arguing.”

As I suspected, once we started our drills, he did not perform up to the standards I had for him. Even at 75% what he was capable of, I could already see the areas he needed to work on. His butterflies were beautiful, but I could pick apart his breast and back strokes. I was happy with his free swim at the end, and I was going to start there the next session. I was hoping by starting off with compliments that we could become more comfortable with one another before I had to get serious. Those breast strokes would drive me insane until he could execute them perfectly every time.

“How am I doing?” Jimin asked during a cool down, doing a few laps before we started our drills again. “I know my breast strokes aren’t that great. I’ve always struggled with them.”

At least he was self-aware, I thought.

“We definitely have stuff to work on,” I replied. “Don’t worry too much about that right now. We can start talking about it more next week.”

He sighed, annoyed, and I laughed. He was very grumpy when it came to his swimming. Not wanting to upset him again, I decided to give him something.

“I would like to watch you swim a bit more and make a plan before giving you my opinion. My coach used to do that with me, and I found it helpful.”

We trained until eight-thirty, and I looked over my notes while Jimin cooled down. We did not talk as much as I would have liked, but it was probably for the best. His body was distracting, and I did not think I was doing a very good job at hiding my reactions to him. He did not seem to notice, or he was simply sparing my feelings, either way he was happy to keep relatively quiet. We only talked about training while he was in the water, and I was grateful he was maintaining his professionalism.

“When will we be back again?” Jimin asked, his last few minutes running down on the timer. “You said Wednesday, right?”

I nodded absentmindedly, in my own little world as I flipped through my notes. I had more than I thought I would have, all of them having to do with fixing his form and how we could go about it. New exercises, grueling training days, and a few new tools that I was not sure he had ever used before, would mold him into a swimmer I would glow with pride over. Park had always been a talented man, but I wanted to see if we could reach for something more. Something bigger and better than he could have imagined. I wanted to make Matthew fucking Hamilton look like the incompetent bastard I knew him to be.

“We’re done for the day,” I sighed, clicking the alarm off. “Do you want me to come for your night swim?”

Jimin ripped the goggles off, rubbing his eyes and already going to release his cap. I bit down on the inside of my mouth. He was so pretty and soft, and the way his muscles flexed as he swam to the edge of the pool made my stomach flutter. I looked away before he hoisted himself out of the water. I did not need that image floating around in my already depraved head.

“You can come if you want,” He replied casually. “I’m mostly hitting the gym when I’m here in the evenings. I only take a dip for thirty minutes and leave.”

I hummed, fighting the urge to look at his body. I focused instead on my breathing and writing down what he had just said. I did not want to forget that. It might be useful for me in the future. If we could exercise together, it would give me an opportunity to guide him through some of my favorite tricks to help with swimming.

“Will someone else be with you?”

“Probably Jungkook and Darcy. They’re my usual gym buddies when Milo is working.”

“Darcy’s his girlfriend, right?” I wanted to see if my hunch from the other night was right.

“Yeah. They’ve been going out for a couple of years now. She’s alright. Not as shy as you.”

I snorted, “You think I’m shy?”

Then I made a critical mistake. Looking over at Jimin, I nearly choked on my own spit. His skin was perfectly smooth, not a blemish in sight, and cream-colored. His body was just as pretty as his face, smooth abs and a tiny waist that led to toned and thick thighs. The tiny scrap of red fabric covering his private area did not stop my eyes from glancing. I looked away before I started to stare.

Hoseok was going to have a field day with this.

“I know you are,” He teased, his voice so soft and sweet. I briefly wondered what he would sound like in bed. I fought desperately to rid myself of that imagery. This could not be happening right now. “You’re so shy you can’t even look at me right now.”

His cocky attitude should have annoyed me, but instead it only further fueled my lust. Every time I had seen this man, he gave me such tonal whiplash it was beginning to drive me insane. First it was this innocent little angel facade that quickly became sarcastic and witty when he decided he could play around without me getting angry. Then it was the whole sad puppy thing he had going on for the last week. Now here he was, practically naked and getting riled up over me telling him what to do, and puffing his chest with confidence I never thought he was capable of. It would have pissed me off if I did not find him ridiculously attractive.

“Go get dressed, Park,” My voice was clipped and too harsh. I winced and quickly worked to soften the blow. Getting defensive only made me look worse. “We can get breakfast if you’re not busy. My treat.”

“Sure, coach.”

When I heard the locker room close, I let out a deep sigh. My sexual frustration was getting in the way of my work, and I hated it. Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I sent Hoseok a text.

Me: I think I’m crushing on Park

Me: Help me get rid of it

The reply did not come until I was done packing up my things. The workout stuff I had brought with me had been useless today, but I was afraid of forgetting where they were the next time I might need them, so they never left the bag. My phone vibrated just as I was done zipping up my bag. I could hear the shower in the locker room and clenched my thighs together. I was still thinking of how pretty his belly was, the tattoo on his ribs pitch-black against his pale skin, and how solid his calves looked. I unlocked my phone and nearly cried laughing when I saw the response.

Hobi: HAHAHAHA

Hobi: Sex is always the answer

Hobi: Never thought I’d see the day you became a cougar

I have no idea why I thought he would be any help. So, I licked my wounds and messaged Andy (like I should have done in the first place) and knew whatever she had to say would be far more helpful than my stupid best friend’s word of “advice.” I just had to hope it would be enough to make all of these feelings stop.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga

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bluecollarmcandtf · 5 months

Text

Hypno Handyman Inc.

So I got this idea about a week ago: what if I used some hypnosis to help my failing repair business. See, all of today's young men are afraid of getting their hands dirty, and it's been impossible to hire any of those pansies. So I thought, 'Why not hypnotize them instead?'

This is Tim and Jim. They're identical twins, but I made Jim shave his head so I could tell them apart. Wait, maybe that was Tim. I don't remember, but it doesn't matter anymore! What's important is that they've been thoroughly hypnotized. Just look at the dopey grins they always have on!

These brothers were once my neighbors, back when they were influencers or something. I'm not really sure what they did for work, but now they are actually contributing members of society. I did them some good, bringing them under my control. Now they actually enjoy all the long hours and hard menial labor.

"Go ahead and tell 'em what your doing, boys!"

"Sure, boss," Tim answers brightly, "Jim and I are just grabbing some tools for a job. Mrs. Jones has a leaky pipe again."

"This is the third time this month." Jim explains with a blank smile.

I chuckle and shake my head. Mrs. Jones, the retired widow, was almost definitely just calling so she could oggle these young men as they tinker with a problem she made up. She's definitely wasting my employees' time, but I don't mind as long as she keeps paying.

"Just remember your new mantra, boys," I check.

Their bodies stiffen as they robotically relay what I taught them, "We work for you. We are your handymen. We work hard, stay humble, and always respect our client and our boss."

"That's right," I beam with pride, "Go ahead and unbutton your uniforms, boys. If Mrs. Jones wants a show, you're gonna give her one."

"Yes, boss!" they declare, smiling as they loosen their shirts before packing their tools in the truck.

They used to have a real attitude problem: thought awfully highly of themselves since they were 'TickTock famous' or whatever. Obviously, that was the first thing I corrected in their personalities. Tim and Jim are now just the perfect humble and eager-to-please workers they should be. I don't think I've seen them drop those stupid smiles in weeks!

This here is Rodrigo. He used to be a model or something, which meant he had practically no skills or common sense to begin with. At least his simple mind was super easy to hypnotize. I tried programming a bunch of common knowledge about plumbing or mechanics in that head of his, but it never stuck. That's why I always have him doing the simple heavy lifting.

"What's up, Rigo! Working hard?"

"Yes, boss," he reports with a heavy breath, "I'm just hauling the fresh supplies into the garage."

"Glad, I can count on you, boy," I clap him on his shoulder, pleased to find his hard work soaking into his uniform, "It's hard work, but someone's gotta do it!"

"Yes, boss," he agrees, and turns his head to the floor as he gets back to it.

I doubt that boy ever had a hard day of work before he met me. He didn't have a shred of real muscle on him when I found him. The only thing his pretty arms could carry were a bunch of shopping bags from the mall.

He threw all that fancy attire away after I had him under trance. I think those clothes on his back are the only thing he owns now. It's not like any of my guys need something nice to wear. They're just my handymen, after all, and I intend to milk their hard-working asses for all their worth.

This last guy is my newest recruit. He came crawling to me when he got fired at his last job. His name is Cameron, and he's been quite a handful. Out of all the idiots I've hypnotized so far, he's been able to resist the most.

He's still thoroughly under my control, but I can't seem to control his thoughts like I can with the other guys. That's why I have him doing all the nastiest jobs. Hopefully it'll break that strong will of his!

"Hey, Cammy," I call.

"Don't call me that!" he snaps, "I'm not your damn puppet like those other freaks!"

His words have venom in them, but his body doesn't seem to agree. His head stays bowed in a mock of submission as he diligently searches the supply closet.

"What you lookin' for, Cammy?" I ask.

"The fucking plunger! You've got me on clogged toilet duty, remember?" he growled in frustration, "How long are you going to keep me doing this?"

"There's a lot of people who aren't willing to clean their shitters," I explain, "And you'll keep doing it as long as people will pay!"

I let out a sigh as Cameron continues to get more and more frustrated. Despite his radical glare, his body can't stop searching for that plunger.

"It's in the bathroom," I finally admit, "Go ahead and kiss each of our shitters while your in their."

Cameron's face twists in disgust as his body obediently marches past me, carrying him to our company restroom. He's clearly angry beyond words for being made to degrade himself once again. One day I'll get him to see me as a respectable employer just like the rest of the guys do. It's only a matter of time.

"Hey Cammy!" I call before he leaves, "Don't forget about tonight. You remember what we discussed yesterday, right?"

Despite all his internalized rage, his eyes glaze over as my hypnotic instructions kick in, "I'm on house duty. I will cook, serve, and clean up dinner for you and the rest of the men. I will be ready to give massages and showers to you and the rest of the men. I will not let myself relax until you and the rest of the men have no need of me. I will be on house duty every night forever, until you say otherwise."

"That's right," I smile in amusement, "Carry on!"

His vacant stare melts away, and he quickly adopts his trademark glare. His hands ball into fists like he's about to fight back, but he just turns and walks down the hallway. I chuckle at the idea of him in that empty bathroom, angrily kissing each of our toilet seats.

I put aside Cameron's defiance and relish just how far my repair business has gone. Not only am I making a ton more money than when it was just me, but I also have a whole flock of guys to keep me company. Even though they are all products of a weaker generation, I am well on my way towards turning each of them into real men like myself.

Already, I have Tim, Jim, and Rodrigo sipping beers and watching football with me after work everyday. I'll tell you that none of those boys enjoyed either of those things before they met me. Eventually, I'll have them genuinely laughing at all my jokes too!

Whether or not Malcolm comes around, is honestly unimportant. As long as he keeps up the disrespect, I'll keep him in the worst jobs and the longest hours.

I'm telling you, hypnotizing your employees is the way to go! So, let me know if you need any help getting your workers under your control. Or just let me know if you need a good old-fashioned handyman to fix something for you!

My boys will do anything as long as you fork over some cash...

#gay hypnosis #hypno story #gay mind control #mind control #hypnotized #male transformation #blue collar

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shiyosugi · 1 month

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BUT I WANT YOU TO STAY

Being in relationship with Oliver Aiku will never last long and he knew it himself. Then... why is he still with you?

Inspiration from THIS

Oh, don't worry, I have another idea for this and it'll be a bit... spicy? Let's see.

Oliver was not really the type to think about being in a long term relationship with someone. He was up for the fun and lasted only a few months or maybe a year, or maybe several weeks only. He had many experiences.

One day, Oliver's friend set him up to go on a blind date. He went along with it and he wasn't disappointed. The person was you and he liked the vibe you be giving off to him.

You were pretty chill, almost nonchalant. You were also pretty expressive, he liked the reactions you gave off. You can be pretty dramatic, but at the same time you also can be 'meh' towards something. He liked that.

Honestly? He was enjoying his time with you. Maybe he enjoyed it too much because it had been half a year he was with you, he didn't even realised it.

Currently, Oliver was hanging out with his football teammates when one of them suddenly asked, "Are you still with that girl, [name]?" Oliver raised an eyebrow at his friend, "Yes, I am still with her." his friends were slightly surprised by that.

"That's a new record, you never stayed with anyone this long." the other said.

That got Oliver thinking for a moment as the conversation somehow changed into another topic.

He was aware that he never stayed with someone for long but his friend's words got him thinking of... why he was still with you?

...

"Babe?" you heard Oliver's voice calling for you, as you were about to turn around his arms were already wrapping themselves around your waist from behind, stopping you from facing him.

"Yes?" you replied with a soft voice as his head went down to your neck and gave it a kiss before letting his face buried into your neck.

There was a moment of silence as he stayed like that before he finally said something, "Remember when I said that I have never stayed with someone for a long time?"

"Yes?"

"How long have we stayed together?"

"Around six months almost seven."

That got him thinking for a good moment, which made you felt a bit awkward since you two were standing here, in the living room with Oliver clinging onto you, in silence. Until he broke it.

"That's a new record.." he said quietly, his arms around your waist tightened their grip on you.

You took noticed of the tight hold but didn't say anything about it, "New record huh? Why are you asking this all of the sudden? Are you planning on breaking up with-"

"No." he interrupted you immediately, "I know you said that you won't make a fuss or anything like that if we broke up one day but... now we have stayed together for this long..."

He raised his head back which made you turned your upper body to look up at him, your eyes met with his.

"Are you sure you would take it well if we ever broke up?" he asked, his eyes showing how vulnerable he looked at the moment, a rare sight for you.

You didn't say anything, you just stared back at him, thinking of the possibility if you two eventually broke up and how would you feel?

He waited for your answer and was somehow a bit anxious as he saw your eyes looking away for a moment before they met back with his.

"I... might be sad about it, but I think I'll move on. I said to you before, I move on pretty fast." you smiled as if that was to reassure him which did nothing to him.

"That if I am the one who asked for it but what if you are the one who wants to break up?" he leaned down towards your face a bit, he was frowning.

"If I am the one asking for it..." you never thought of that because in your previous relationships, you were never the one to initiate it.

You were too kind and considerate sometimes that it made you looked like you never have the saying in any relationship you have been. (Totally not the author before she knew her self-worth)

Your silence was uncomfortable for him so he decided to say something, "If you're the one who wants to break up with me, I'll be sad." he said softly before pressing his lips against yours.

He kissed you for a few seconds before pulling away to say, "I might have a few women with me before but..." he kissed you again this time a bit longer before pulling away again, "... I want you to stay..."

Before you could say anything he kissed you again this time, he wasn't going to pull away.

Slowly he loosened his grip around your waist and then moved you and himself a bit so that you were facing him. His hands slowly going to your hands, grabbing them and placed them on his shoulders. You caught on with his action so you wrapped your arms around his neck while his were wrapped back around your waist, continuing the kiss. It was a passionate one, like he always did but this one might be a little too passionate.

Eventually, you two pulled away from the kiss, looking at each other with eyes showing the truth behind the faces you saw. His love for you was genuine and it showed. Maybe... just maybe... He has finally found the person he wants to be with.

"I want you to stay, I want to stay with you. You belong to me... and I'll make sure of it." was the last thing he said before pinning you against the wall and pulling you in for another kiss.

#blue lock #anime #oliver aiku #aiku oliver #bllk oliver #bllk #oliver aiku x reader #shiyosugi

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sissylittlefeather · 2 months

Text

Your Love's Been a Long Time Coming: Chapter 1

A/N: Ahhhhh a new series!!! This is the one that won the poll, so I hope y'all love it! Also, I decided to play with POV on this one, so I'm telling it from Elvis's perspective. Please let me know your thoughts in the comments!!

ICYMI, this is the Elvis x OC Vivian Choquette series. Want to learn more about her? Here.

PS- I love you @ccab for loving Vivian as much as I do before I even write the story!

Warnings: Not much, this is gonna start slow, but trust me, it'll heat up. Kissing, cussing, alcohol use, smoking

Word count: ~2.4k

By September of '59, Elvis was used to the army. He was used to the routine, used to the work, used to the people, used to the fans, and used to looking for a good time wherever he could find it. On this particular night, he found it at a party at his own house in Bad Nauheim. All his friends were there, along with a plethora of girls to keep everyone interested. Elvis moved through the party easily, making small talk and keeping everyone stocked on drinks, despite the fact that he didn't have any himself. Sometimes he imbibed, but usually he didn't. Although his beloved mama was gone, what he learned from her still lived in the forefront of his memory. That is, unless he found himself at the Moulin Rouge. But that was different. Here at his own house, he preferred to remain in control.

Despite having a girlfriend back at home, he moves through the house looking for a girl to talk to. That's when he notices her in a corner, her dark hair swept into a low ponytail and blue eyes glancing lazily around the room. She almost seems bored. So much so that she turns to the bookshelf that came with the house and pulls a book down. She opens it and begins to read. Elvis is intrigued by the kind of woman who reads at a party. He begins to walk over to her and realizes that the book is in French. He panics for a second and then remembers that the guys taught him a phrase in French. Surely he can figure out how to communicate with her. Besides, most of these French girls speak a little English.

He swaggers up to her, ready to try out his French. He stands there in front of her for a minute before she looks up at him.

"Bonjour."

"Mhmm." She looks down at her book, but he doesn't leave. He's suddenly nervous, but he decides to risk it. She's pretty enough that it might be worth it.

"Uhh, est-ce que tu aimes le sexe?"

She looks up at him suddenly and laughs.

"What? Did I pronounce it wrong?" She laughs even harder. When she finally catches her breath, she holds up a hand.

"First of all, I speak English. Second of all, please don't ever say that to anyone ever again."

"Oh. Why?"

"You just asked me if I like sex."

"What?! Those motherfu- I mean, those jerks. They told me it meant 'how are you'."

"And you believed them? It literally has the word 'sex' in it."

"Well, I don't know! I don't speak French!"

"Obviously." She looks back down at her book. He's not ready to give up, though.

"Hey, if you speak English, why are you reading in French?"

"My mother was French. I speak and read it because of her." She answers without looking up from the page.

"Was?"

"She's been gone for a while now. I live with my stepdad. He's an officer in the army." He feels the pain of having lost his mother too soon and looks at her with even more softness and affection than he did before.

"I'm Elvis." She looks up at him.

"I know." He nods and she notices the look he's giving her. "You know, I'm actually here with someone."

"Oh?"

"Mhmm." She points across the party to Charlie, who's making his way to her with drinks.

"Charlie?!"

"Yes."

"Well, goddamn." Charlie makes it over to them and hands her one of the drinks. He throws his arm around her casually and looks up at Elvis.

"Hey buddy. I see you met my lady."

"Well, not officially..." She holds her hand out to him.

"Vivian Choquette. Nice to meet you, Elvis Presley." He takes her hand and has the strangest urge to kiss it, but he'd never do such a thing with Charlie right there. He's been a good friend to Elvis, so no matter how much he likes her, he won't risk their friendship. Instead, he shakes her hand like he would if she was a man.

"Yeah, likewise." Elvis nods awkwardly and then turns to go back to the party. It's too bad that she's there with Charlie. He wanders around a little more, before he sees a girl that will change the trajectory of his whole life. Still, he never forgets the girl he met first.

******

The next day, Elvis sits at lunch with Charlie.

"So what did you think of my girl?" Elvis chokes a little on his food and tries to think of how he can answer without letting on that he hasn't stopped thinking about her.

"Oh, she's... she's somethin' else."

"Ain't she? I saw you talking to that cute little thing though. She seemed like somethin' else too."

"Priscilla? Oh, yeah."

"Little young, though."

"Yeah..." Elvis tries to focus on Priscilla, but all he can think about is Vivian. If she wasn't with Charlie, she'd be exactly what he's looking for. He's not sure how he knows that based on the half of a conversation they had, but something about her just draws him to her. Maybe it's the fact that she seems deeper than most of the girls he's encountered. Maybe it's because she didn't fall all over herself to talk to him. Maybe it's because she understands the pain of losing a parent. Whatever the reason, he can't stop wishing that she hadn't met Charlie first.

******

About three weeks later, Elvis is walking around town and he passes a cafe. He doesn't think much of it until he sees someone he recognizes sitting at one of the little tables. His heart jumps a bit at the thought of talking to her again. Then, he remembers Charlie with his arm around her. He decides to keep walking, but as he gets a little closer, he notices her shoulders are shaking. She's got her long, dark hair in her face, so he can't see her eyes, but it looks like she might be crying. He can't let her sit there alone if that's the case.

He cautiously approaches the table and realizes he was right. Her sniffling is quiet, but he can hear it. She's got a lit cigarette in one hand, and it looks like she's forgotten it's there. Her other hand fiddles with her coffee cup on its saucer. When he gets to her, he's not exactly sure what to do. He didn't have much of a plan beyond walking to the table. After hesitating for a second, he pulls the chair across from her out to sit in, but it makes a horrible screeching sound and she looks up startled.

"What the f-"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry. It's just me."

"God, Elvis, you scared me."

"I'm sorry, honey, can I sit down?" She wipes her face and nods.

"Yeah, sure, I guess so." He sits down across from her and watches as she puts out her cigarette and continues trying to wipe her face clean.

"Are you... are you alright?"

"Ha! Yeah, I'm just fine." She pulls out another cigarette and lights it. They sit in silence for a bit while Elvis tries to think of what to say.

"You sure?" Vivian takes a puff of her cigarette and blows it straight up into the air.

"Do I look alright?" Elvis hesitates. He wants to say that she looks beautiful, but it doesn't feel appropriate.

"You seem upset."

"You're very observant." She responds spitefully. He looks down at his hands in his lap. "I'm sorry; that was rude. You're not the one that cheated on me and abandoned me."

"No... Charlie?" She takes a drag and holds her breath, nodding. Finally, she has to exhale, so she does and then starts to cry again. It's killing Elvis to sit there and watch her cry without doing something about it. He stands up and offers her his hand. "Come on."

"What? Where are we going?"

"My house is only a block from here. You can cry in private." She looks up at him and he can tell she's thinking about saying no. "I won't hurt you. Come on."

She puts her cigarette out and grabs her purse, taking the hand he offered her. They walk in silence to his house, but they continue to hold hands. When he finally gets her settled on the sofa, he sits next to her and leans back, spreading his legs wide. He's trying to indicate that she can relax and sit comfortably too. To his utter shock, she slips her shoes off and tucks her feet up under herself, also getting comfortable.

"So, he cheated on you?"

"Well, I guess that's not exactly fair."

"What do you mean?"

"I was the one he cheated with. Turns out he's been writing letters to another girl for a while."

"Ohhhh... and you found out about it." He thinks about the girl he writes letters to at home. What would she think of him here on the couch with this girl.

"Yes. I didn't want to be the other woman. Besides I thought he... well... it's stupid."

"What did you think?"

"I thought he wanted to marry me." Elvis's eyebrows shoot straight up before he can stop them. He never thought of Charlie as the marrying kind. Then again, he can understand not wanting to let Vivian go. "See, even you think I'm stupid."

"No, I don't. I think you just had hope. There's nothing wrong with that."

"There is if you're me." He sits up and looks into her eyes. The sadness rolling off of her is about to kill him.

"Why do you say that?" She looks up trying to keep herself from crying, but it doesn't work and fat teardrops slide down her cheeks.

"Everybody leaves me. My father left me. Then my mother left me. The first boy I loved. And now Charlie. Why does everyone leave? What's wrong with me?"

He scoots close to her and pulls her into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder. She doesn't object. Instead she lets herself be comforted as she continues to cry. He strokes her hair and kisses the top of her head. The pain of loss is something he's all too familiar with. He takes her face in the palm of his hand and looks into her eyes.

"Viv, this is not your fault. There's nothing wrong with you. I know what it's like to lose people too soon and it hurts. But it's not because of you."

"Why does it feel like no one wants me?" This smashes his heart into a thousand pieces. He wants her so badly it hurts.

"That can't possibly be true." Just tell her. Say it. Say 'I want you.' He wills himself to tell her the truth, but he just can't.

"You're sweet, Elvis." He smiles awkwardly and tries to ignore the fact that she pats his thigh. She leans her head on his shoulder again and snuggles into the side of his body. He knows she's just seeking comfort, so he tries to stay focused on being that. But he is a young man and she is a girl with her hand on his thigh and his imagination is running wild with what would happen if he carried her to his bedroom. He swallows deeply and begs his body not to respond physically to what's in his mind.

Still, there's an electric charge in the air that she has to notice too. Almost at the same time, they pull back and look into each other's eyes. He puts his knuckle under her chin and looks down at her lips. When she closes her eyes, he knows he has the green light, so he leans in and softly presses his lips to hers. Something bubbles up inside him and his hands begin to tremble. He backs up slightly and hovers just above her lips. They both smile and he dives back in for a deeper kiss, dipping his tongue into her mouth to slide against hers. She nibbles on his bottom lip a little and he groans. His hands rest on her hips in an attempt to get them to stop shaking and he eventually lifts her into his lap to straddle him. The intensity of their kissing increases as his hands roam over her body.

Suddenly, she pulls back breathlessly.

"Wait. Elvis, do you have a girlfriend back home?" His mouth pops open. He's not sure how to answer. Yes, he has Anita at home, but for the right girl, for her, he'd end that in a heartbeat. "Answer the question."

"Well... I-I-I..."

"That's all I need to hear." She peels herself off of him and stands up, smoothing her hair.

"No, honey, wait-"

"No. You're basically doing the same thing that Charlie just did. All you G.I.s are the same."

"Hon, please-"

"My name is Vivian!"

"Viv, just, don't leave..." she tries to put her heels back on and stumbles to get the second one on. He uses both hands to steady her as she does.

"Elvis, no. Good luck with Priscilla."

"Wait-?"

"You know she's 14."

"She's 14?!"

"So, you know, have fun with that." Vivian stomps towards the door with him close on her heels. He doesn't know how to make her understand that she's all he wants. Priscilla, Anita, none of them compare to her. But he doesn't know how to say that, so instead he watches as she walks out his front door, catches a cab, and disappears from his life.

******

Or so he thinks. In 1961, Elvis is home from the army and back to his film career. In March, he leaves the continental US to get ready to film Blue Hawaii. He arrives and goes to a cast meeting on set where the director is excited to introduce his costar. His first view of her is from behind and his heart skips. Surely it can't be?

"This is Vivian Choquette. She'll be playing your girlfriend, Maile Duval." She turns to face him and smiles awkwardly. Elvis tries to hide his excitement, hoping his trembling hands won't give him away.

"Hello again..."

******

Until chapter 2. Thoughts so far?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added or removed):

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax

#elvis presley #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis #elvis presley fic #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis presley fanfic #elvis x oc #elvis presley x oc #Elvis x Vivian choquette #Vivian Choquette #your loves been a long time coming #ylbaltc

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adventuringblind · 7 months

Text

Picking at my Sins

Oscar piastri x reader

Genre: Angst, smut?

Summary: Reader comes from a religious background and struggles with self worth. Oscar is there to pick up the pieces.

Warnings: religious trauma, alluded to SH, panic attacks, talks of sex

Notes: mmmmmm definitely not self projecting or anything

Masterlist

The one thing nobody teaches in church is that innocence is simply a construct in the human mind. No one is ever truly innocent. Especially those who you expect to always love and respect you. The ones who preach to always follow the rules.

They turned their back on her. A mistake that wasn't even hers led to her entire church turning their backs on her. She was left to fend with nothing. Her parents were facing the same issue, only they were the ones who started it.

It was for that reason she left.

She wouldn't call herself innocent. Simply inexperienced. She knows what she would like to try but hasn't been able to do so.

She was alone for so long. A new place makes it hard to make friends. Especially since she has a religious background, people tend to immediately think the worst.

She met Oscar in October of 2022. It was cold and rainy that evening. She needed something from the store, and she didn't have a car, so she'd settled for walking in the torrential down pour.

Alcohol. She needed alcohol after a lengthy conversation with her mom that didn't end well and a ten hour shift at a job she gets minimum wage for. Then, to feed her depressed mood, she went to the nearest park with a pretty view, sat on the bench, and drank straight from the bottle.

She's not sure how long she'd been here, but it was long enough that she was shivering and drenched. The liquor barely touched. How had religion touched that, too? Why does she feel sick at the idea of putting her mouth to the bottle?

The park is deserted, and she assumes that it'll remain that way. It doesn't. And at some point, a male comes running towards her. He's probably just out for some kind of workout he can't pause even for the weather.

She assumes he'll run right by her. He doesn't. Imstead he stops to make conversation. Then he sits with her. Then they walk together to somewhere out of the rain.

That is how she found herself talking to the Australian any moment she got. It's how she made a friend who didn't care that she couldn't stomach eating food at times because it could cause imperfections. A friend who let her rant about her ridiculous situation.

Then, a friend became a lover. He asked her out in January. He asked her to that same park which they had met months earlier. He told her they didn't have to do anything quickly. That he was willing to help her figure it out. He truly saw her for who she was and wanted to continue having stupid conversations and finding weird locations to explore.

She worked through things slowly. Many panic attacks were had. The first time she dyed her hair, she cried. Her first time wearing clothes that revealed more than they should have, she also cried. She couldn't even wear them out due to the sheer amount of overwhelming feelings.

Then she left to travel with Oscar. He dragged her around the world with him. Asking nothing in return aside from loving him unconditionally and being his pillar through the stress of a rookie season.

He was so gentle through everything. Honest with her about every misconception she had about life. Reminded her daily that being herself wasn't a sin.

The one thing she hadn't been able to get past was intimacy. It is the most taboo subject to speak about in a church. Aside from hearing that it's bad unless you're married. If it happens any other way, then you'd be punished. Shunned by all. Labeled as wicked and disgusting.

Hand holding was the first step. That came pretty easy while they were friends even. Then he kissed her and she kissed back and even though she was clumsy it was amazing.

The kiss was followed by the first of many panic attacks. A nasty thing that had her wailing and clawing at her skin.

Eventually, she got past that. Though she picked up new habits that probably weren't the best. Oscar made it a point to keep her hands occupied in more productive ways. Even if it felt childish like coloring in a colorbook. They went through three of them in a month. It became a way that they both relax.

She felt herself getting more comfortable with touch after that. Even getting far enough to get clothes off.

And then she wanted to have him completely. He was so gentle through the entire thing. Always asking how she felt. The girl felt utterly clueless and fumbled with everything, but she didn't panic. Maybe it was the overwhelming feeling of love that kept those dark thoughts out of her brain.

It was a month later that it all came crashing down. Her parents had found her. They showed up at her flat while Oscar was there.

She'd never seen the Aussie so defensive. He'd always been so laid back. Until she watched him tell her parents to get out in a horrifyingly stern voice.

It didn't matter, though. The damage had already been done. They'd already yelled about how awful she'd become. The female had just hung her head and listened. It came like muscle memory.

Oscar did get them out eventually. They left in a flurry of shouts as Oscar closed the door and locked it. Then he started from square one again.

That's when the panic attacks during sex started. She couldn't stop the thoughts. They snuck up on her. One second, she was in bliss, and the next, she was trying to claw her skin off her body. The overwhelming disgust with herself seemed to set in after that.

But Oscar was there, every time. He would hold her. Get her cleaned up. Place bandages where her nails had managed to rip skin. Then he’d occupy her mind with anything far away from the topics of intimacy and sex. He’d let her initiate contact so he didn’t scare her.

Sometime, he gets asked by friends (Lando) about his personal life. Why the two aren’t often see going out together. Why she prefers to do a shot then drink mocktails for the rest of the night.

And Oscar always gives the same over used response. “Cause I’d rather see her smiling then picking herself apart over make believe sins.”

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kaicubus · 2 years

Text

Dating Patrick Verona

Warnings : mentions of smoking // drug use, mentions of using a switchblade.

fem!reader x Patrick Verona from 10 things I hate about you

— — —

- At first you were a bit scared of Patrick. I mean, who wouldn’t be? This guy eats live animals, according to everyone else, so if he could do something as terrible as that who knows what else he’s capable of?

- No one really talks to him besides his little group of delinquents, so he’s pretty much a loner and because of his reputation a lot of people fear him. However. No one else seems to think about how dangerously attractive he is, so in a way, that makes you a loner as well.

- When you try bonding with him in class, or even just talking to him, he immediately looks at you like you're some crazed junkie who lost her way — some psycho who wants herself killed. Partially right.

♡ You’re the only person in Patrick’s life who sees him for how he truly is without all the false rumors going around, harmless and harmful. In truth, Patrick’s actually pretty interesting to observe because how can someone be so stupid yet being so inhumanly intelligent at the same exact time?

♡ Patrick is extremely petty when it comes to jealousy. If he sees a guy flirting with you, he grabs your face and for those next few seconds his lips don’t leave yours — just so they get the message. He’s only touchy and shows PDA for the only reason of basically claiming you as his.

♡ He always picks you up in his car when you two go out, whether you like it or not, because that’s his way of showing you he cares when he can’t show it any other way.

♡ In quiet moments, he asks you what’s on your mind, what you're thinking about, what you want to do in the future, why you want to go where you want to go, what happened in your childhood that hurt you, because he wants to get to know you on the most personal level.

♡ Since he has such a dirty mind, any chance he gets he’ll make anything you say or do sexual. He thinks its funny and more importantly it makes you mad so it’s even better in his opinion.

♡ When you two are alone and out of sight of the public he’s actually sweet and focuses on you. Patrick is so touch starved but won’t show it so when you do small things like move his hair out of his face or fix his clothes, it sends his heart racing.

♡ He may not like admitting defeat but if there's one thing he will not tolerate is losing. That being said, if he screws up and you two get into an argument about something he’s going to do everything in his power to make it up to you. He’ll bring flowers, your favorite food, bring you your favorite book SIGNED by the author ((if they're not dead that is)), or a special mixtape of all the songs that remind him of you.

♡ He could care less about what other people say about him, it happens all the time, if anyone says anything about you though is unacceptable and punishable by piercing them a new hole with a switchblade in the leg.

♡ “You got to try it just once.” He asks when you tell him to quit smoking, “I'm sure it'll be worth your while. Mary jane’s an old friend, and she certainly knows how to loosen those screws of yours. What do you say? I’ll shotgun you, so it won’t hurt.”

♡ He won’t inadvertently say it, but he loves holding your hand or holding your wrist if you’re walking together anywhere.

♡ When it comes to saying ‘I love you,’ he’s not entirely sound on the idea, but if he knows how much it means to you he’ll find other ways to say it — begrudgingly.

#10 things i hate about you #patrick verona #patrick verona x reader #headcanons #x reader #patrick verona imagines #heath ledger #fanfic #imagines #patrick verona imagine #10 things i hate about you imagine #kaicubus

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youunravelme · 3 months

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Who are some other writers we should check out?

Love your fic recs 😁

omg i LOVE this ask! (and i love that you trust me to rec things/blogs/fics! it's a huge honor)

i'm gonna put this under a read more because there's a lot of people i think are worth following (and if i rec'ed you and got your pronouns wrong, please tell me and i'll fix it!)

so i'm gonna attempt to organize this list by player. disclaimer: i don't read for every hockey player in existence.

mat barzal (obvi number one bc he's the loml)

@barzysunflower - lolo (she/her) is the first mat barzal writer i actually read and when i tell you i binged her masterlist???? it's so good, my favs are the you are in love series and the unexpected series!

@thewintersoldierdisaster - literally anything she writes is great, i go feral for it tbh. she writes for a few canes players as well, but my favs are the mat fics (for obvious reasons being that i'm in love with him). especially the fics with the baby (whose name i cannot remember) and when mat calls reader squeaks???? i'm in love.

@islesnucks - clara (she/her) has so many good mat fics and headcanons (seriously, headcanons are underrated and need more love in general). i think she was also a writer that made me fall in love with mat because she just writes him as the dream romantic hero every single time.

@hockeywhy - i am almost positive that they are tired of me tagging them, but the truth is, they are the writer of my all time fav mat series caught in the middle! but they also have other great mat fics and matthew tkachuk fics that i've enjoyed almost as much! i don't think they're as active anymore writing wise BUT if you want amazing writing and haven't checked them out, you should!

auston matthews

@bagopucks - ella (she/her) hands down my fav auston series is her single mom!reader series. it's the perfect balance of angst and found family and it's just flat out wonderful. she also has a masterlist full of other fics too, that series just happens to be my favorite. but if you wanted another fav of mine, read the jack hughes fic "a little funky," it's about a reader with ocd and as someone with ocd, it was really impactful!

jack hughes

@chewingcyanide - emme (she/they) literally writes the most poetic fics i think i've ever read. everytime she publishes something new, i am stunned. seriously, i honestly take notes from her writing style. stories aside, if you wanted to become a better writer, check out her stuff, it'll really inspire you to use more descriptive words! her breakable heaven series is what introduced me to her writing and it's phenomenal!

@babydollmarauders - faithlynn (she/her) i'm almost positive that faithlynn was the first hockey writer i really followed because jack hughes was my gateway drug into the hockey world. she has so many fun series and aus going on not only for jack but for other devils players, so if you love the devils, definitely check her out!

@jackhues - naqia (she/her) also has a really fun series called mockingbird and it's technically more focused on the friendship/brother-sister relationship jack's gf (reader) and quinn have but it's really sweet. she also has a great auston au as well!

others

@ladylooch - b (she/her) is great! i put her in this category because i feel like she writes a lot for a lot of different players. i've loved her stuff with nico and mat alike. she also has a pretty consistent schedule as well from what i've gathered (which, girl, share your secrets please)

@troubatrain - kim (she/her) wrote my fav beau fic (set it up) and has written some really good fics for matthew tkachuk too! i absolutely adore the soccer player!reader fic and the blurbs that go along with it!

@comphersjost - m (she/they) again, i've said it once, i'll say it again SHE WROTE MY FAV MATT SERIES OF ALL TIME (all for you). I GO BACK AND READ IT OFTEN. literally had me weeping at times. she also wrote some other fics for auston that i've really enjoyed as well!

@sydnikov - sydney (she/her) has written some realyl great fics for andrei and some for nico hischier and jack hughes (and a few others i think, but those are the ones i've read) and they're just fantastic! she's also a canes fan if you want more canes content!

feel free to reblog this with your own author recommendations (in fact i highly encourage it! there are so many good writers on this godforsaken site and these are just the authors i find myself reblogging every time they post!

#kenn's fic recs #fic rec #screaming crying throwing up #author fic rec #ask

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scoonsalicious · 8 days

Text

2.3 Bucky*

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Explicit sexual content Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (protected PIV).

Word Count: 1.5k

Previously On...: Bucky helped your soul vacate your body.

A/N: More smut, yay!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

He held her until she stopped trembling, looking at her in absolute awe as she came back into herself. He’d never, in his entire, long life, had a girl come apart like that for him before. I could love this woman, he thought to himself, then immediately banished the idea from his head. He barely knew her. But, god, how he wanted to. He wanted to know everything about her, and he wanted her to know everything about him– the good, and the bad. All of the bad. He wanted her to know all of him, and still want him once she did, because even though he’d just had her, he wanted more of her, all of her. Every single bit.

“Major?” he murmured, once her body had finally stilled.

“Hmm?” She sounded so peaceful, satiated.

“I hate to ask this, sweetheart,” he began, feeling the flush of embarrassment rise to his cheeks, “but is there any way I could–”

“Oh my god, you poor thing!” she said before he could finish. “You’ve been lying here with cum in your pants this entire time. Fuck. Come on.” She stood up, still gloriously naked, and reached for his hand. Blowing out all but one of the emergency candles, she led him by muscle memory through the darkness into her bedroom. “I’m so sorry,” she said, taking the remaining candle and placing it on top of a dresser.

“There’s nothing you need to apologize for,” Bucky said. His breath hitched as she walked up to him, the soft golden light of the candle bouncing off her naked body. She reached down and began undoing his belt, then the fly of his jeans. Silently, she rolled the soiled clothing down his legs, helping him step out of them until he was just as bare as she was. When the power came back on, she told him, she’d toss them into the wash for him.

“Fuck,” she whispered, and he noticed her staring at his erect cock, eyes wide as she ran her tongue over her bottom lip.

“Sorry,” he said, shyly moving a hand to cover himself, but she pulled his hand away.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” she whispered, repeating his own words back to him with a smirk. “I just wanna look at you a minute.”

And god, she made him feel beautiful, scars and all.

“I would really, really love to have that down my throat right now,” she told him, not once taking her eyes off of his, admittedly thick, dick.

Bucky groaned. He would love that, too, but there was something else he wanted so much more right now. “Major,” he said, and she looked up at him at the sound of her name, eyes shining in the darkness. “We have all the time in the world for that, later. But right now?” Bucky stepped forward and grabbed her hip, jerking her against him and feeling satisfied when she let out a little shriek of surprise. “Right now, I gotta know what it’s like to have my cock inside of you. Please let me fill you with my cock.”

He watched her breasts rise and fall as she took in his words. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but he was pretty sure her pupils had blown out, leaving only black. “Yes,” she breathed, and she flung herself at him, jumping to wrap her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.

Bucky groaned into her mouth as he kissed her, his hands kneading into the soft skin of her ass. She felt like absolute heaven, and he nearly blew his load again once he felt her hot, wet cunt grind itself against his lower stomach.

By the light of the single candle, he carried Major over to the bed, gently placing her down. Before he could join her, though, she leaned over and reached into her bedside table, pulling out a roll of condoms. He watched in awe as her small hands, with a slight tremble of anticipation in them, tore at the foil packaging and removed the latex. He gulped as she reached for him, giving his shaft a few long, sure strokes before rolling the condom down the length of him.

Then, to his utmost surprise and delight, Major crawled herself over to the middle of the bed, laid down on her back, and opened her legs wide for him, a silent invitation in the smile on her lips. He must have died and gone to Heaven, he thought, because there was no way he was deserving of something so amazing in this life. God, she was so pretty, all spread open for him like a beautiful flower he couldn’t wait to pluck.

Joining Major on the bed, Bucky settled himself between her thighs. Grasping his length, he ran the tip through her soaking wet folds, loving how her eyes rolled back each time the tip of his cock hit her clit.

“Tell me if it’s too much for you,” he warned gently. “Tell me if it hurts, and I’ll stop.” He’d been with girls in the past who hadn’t been able to take him, especially without him warming them up first, and the last thing he wanted to do was cause Major discomfort or pain. Not when she was so open and pretty for him.

“Dick. Inside. Now,” she ordered, and he loved how bossy she sounded. Slowly, so as to give her time to adjust to the stretch of him, Bucky sunk himself into her, inch by agonizing inch. He was about half way when he paused to check in with her. “How you doin, gorgeous?” he asked. Major’s eyes were scrunched up, a look of intense concentration on her face. “Good,” she grunted. “So… thick. Keep… going.” And so, he did, moving nearly incrementally until he was fully seated inside of her. He could feel her walls squeezing him, and he wondered if he was hurting her. “Doll?” he asked, looking at Major intently. “You alright there? You still with me?”

She opened her eyes and smiled, nodding. “Just need a second,” she told him as she worked to breathe through any stretch she might be feeling. “Never… had so… big.”

Bucky grinned at that, hopeful that, whatever might happen between the two of them in the future, he’d at least be memorable in that regard.

After a few moments, Major’s breathing evened out and he felt her muscles relax around him. She was ready, and Bucky wasted no more time. He slowly slid out before snapping back into her, building up a rhythm. There was a part of him that wanted to fuck her hard, to show her what he was capable of, wanting to ruin her for any other man but him, but a bigger part of him wanted to take his time, to go slow, to savor her.

So he kept his thrusts long and even, relishing in the feel of her every time he bottomed out, every time his tip nudged her cervix. He loved the way she squeezed him, pulled him back into her as he worked to pull out, like she never wanted him to leave. “‘S so fucking good, Bucky,” Major moaned, wrapping her legs around his waist, hooking her ankles together behind his back and using them to pull him further into her, as if she couldn’t get him deep enough to satisfy her. He brought his lips back down to hers, kissing her with a slowness he was unfamiliar with, but that felt so right. Everything about Major, about this felt so right. “You’re doing so good for me, sugar,” he said, burying his face into her neck and sucking kisses into the skin there. “So nice and warm, so tight. Makin’ me never wanna come outta this pretty pussy.”

“Christ, Barnes,” she panted. Major yanked on the chain of his dog tags, pulling his face closer to hers so she could kiss him again, long and deep, and the motion sent Bucky reeling over the edge into his release. Not wanting to leave her behind, he brought a hand to her clit as he continued to thrust into her. “So close,” Major moaned, and he knew she wasn’t far behind. He kept rubbing, kept kissing, kept rutting his hips into this little slice of Heaven until she was falling over the edge with him.

Bucky collapsed, trying not to drop all of his weight on top of her, but Major wrapped her arms around his back and held his head to her chest, gently running her fingers through his sweat-slicked hair.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely. “That was amazing. You were amazing.”

Major chuckled and kissed the top of his head. “I’m pretty sure we were both amazing, together,” she said. Bucky could not disagree.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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roosterforme · 1 year

Text

A Love You Don't Find Everyday Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You run into the last person you wanted to see in Annapolis, which leads to you and Bradley fighting over the phone.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, swearing and smut

Length: 4600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

"Oww!!" You were trying your best to keep it together as your friend Caleb gave you your first tattoo. But you weren't sure if the location was extra sensitive, or if you were just a gigantic baby, but it was hurting a lot.

"Let's take a little break," he told you, gently wiping your skin before he removed his gloves and went to get you a bottle of water.

You glanced down your body to where your leggings were pulled part way down, revealing a half finished tattoo that was clearly dedicated to Bradley.

Oh my goodness, you'd actually done it. The idea occurred to you when you were first engaged; a hidden tattoo that only he would see. Well, him and your doctors, and perhaps someone who saw you in a bathing suit. But even your bathing suits were probably not skimpy enough to show off the single-line Rooster that was going to be adorning your skin near the left side of your pelvic bone, between your pussy and hip.

"We're almost done," Caleb promised as you drank. "You got five more minutes in you?"

"Yes," you managed to say, watching him wash his hands and grab a new pair of gloves. "It'll be worth it for the surprise wedding gift."

With a laugh, Caleb adjusted your leggings and got to work once more. "I'm pretty sure Bradley is going to freak the fuck out when he sees it. No joke, I would lose my mind if Jess ever did anything like this."

"That's what I'm counting on," you groaned through clenched teeth. You tried to take deep breaths and pretend you were at the beach, taking Tramp for a walk as the needle made you want to cry.

"Nearly done," Caleb mumbled, and now you were biting your finger to keep yourself still. You were panting by the time he finished and wiped you clean one final time. "Here, check it out with the mirror. Looks pretty cool."

You propped yourself up on one elbow and took the mirror from him. You gasped softly as you examined yourself. "I love it! It's perfect! Tiny and cute and just perfect!"

While Caleb taped plastic wrap over the rooster to cover it while it heals, you argued with him over payment.

"It's on the house," he insisted.

"That ridiculous! How much would you normally charge?"

He just laughed and said, "It's dainty, and it was your first time, so I'd charge the shop minimum. But you're going to pay nothing and consider it a wedding gift. Congratulations."

"Thanks," you told him with a hug, only feeling slightly bad that he was insisting you skip payment. "But if I come back for another one, I'm paying full price."

"Sure, whatever you say."

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

Bradley was sitting in your car in the driveway. He was already running late, because he missed you so much he could barely function. And because he had stayed in bed too long jerking off to the dirty videos of the two of you. And now your car wouldn't start for him.

"You fucking piece of shit!" he scolded the dashboard. He had moved the seat back as far as it would go, and he could still barely fit. His head was almost touching the roof, and the seatbelt felt like it was smothering him. "I swear this is the smallest car ever made. Can't be safe."

Then he remembered that he promised you he'd treat the car nicely. So through gritted teeth, he gently ran his palm along the steering wheel while he tried one more time to turn the key.

"For some reason she loves you, so will you please be nice to me?"

The car magically started, and he was finally on his way to work. He thought about how much better the Bronco was while he drove, but he didn't dare voice his opinions out loud. It was only Monday, and he needed this thing to be agreeable for at least a few more days.

Bradley knew you were busy. He knew you had spent the entire day Sunday with your parents, but he was still craving even just a phone call from you. He thought about calling you now, but the last thing he wanted to do was be a nuisance this week.

But his phone rang as he pulled into the parking garage, and he scrambled to answer. "Sweetheart!"

"Bradley! I only have a minute," you told him, and he could tell by the amount of background noise that you were already in the conference hall. "Just wanted to check on you and Tramp."

"We're good, Baby Girl. Just miss you."

"Listen, I've got all these dinners and cocktail hours all week, but I'll call you when I can, okay? Text me! I love you!"

Bradley made his way to the classroom and took a seat next to Nat. "How you holding up? I never thought I would see the day when you were a lovesick mess, waiting for your wife to return home."

Bradley grumbled. "Almost wife. And I fucking hate her car. She's so nearly perfect, like literally my ideal woman, but her choice of vehicle honestly makes me question her sanity."

"Of course she's fucking crazy. She's with you."

Being three hours behind you all week made things even more interesting, but when Bradley was fixing himself a bowl of cereal for dinner around 7 on Tuesday, he was surprised to see you were texting him.

I miss you, Roo. We could definitely manage to break this bed together.

Just as he was about to write back and tell you exactly how he'd take care of you and the bed, a few images appeared in the thread. In the first one, you were naked and all wrapped up in the white sheet, your hair a mess and you had that hazy look in your eyes that told him you'd had a few drinks.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned as two more images came through. You knew what that ring on your finger did to him. And you decided to tease him anyway.

The picture of you with your left arm covering your hip, slipping your middle finger inside yourself had him unzipping his shorts. The diamond ring sparkled in the light, and your manicured nails against your pussy looked so pretty.

He called you over facetime immediately, looking through the pictures while he fisted himself.

"Roo," you gasped. Your room was dimly lit, but he could tell you were masturbating. You must have just taken these photos before sending them.

"Baby Girl," he groaned, and you whined in response. God, he loved that sound. Loved it when you were a needy, spoiled princess for him.

"Get me off! Talk to me, Bradley, and get me off!" you demanded, tilting the phone so he could see your pleading face before shifting it to show off the rest of your body.

"You have the prettiest little pussy, Sweetheart. Yes, use your fingers, just like that. Nice and slow. Add a second one to fill you up."

You were moaning louder now, swiping your clit with your thumb.

"Show me your face. Look at me," he told you, gripping himself tight as you guided your phone up to your face. He scolded you whenever you let your eyes drift closed, demanding you look at him while you came.

"Bradley," you gasped, your head tipping back, but your eyes stayed on his as you made all the little noises that he would forever associate with pure sexual bliss.

"Good girl," he told you as you rode your fingers to completion. After a few more pumps of his fist, he had made a bit of a mess in the kitchen for himself to clean up.

You bit your lip and sighed softly. "I miss you. When I get home, can we make another video together where you call me your dirty little slut?"

He just grunted in agreement. "Anytime you want, Sweetheart."

Bradley let you start to doze off as he talked to you, only telling you to hang up and charge your phone before you fell asleep completely.

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

Every lecture you attended was fascinating. Every cocktail hour was a great chance to network. And every dinner with your team brought everyone closer together. But you were getting tired of socializing. All you really wanted was to be home with Bradley, eating dinner on his lap and listening to his playlists.

"Everyone ready for tomorrow afternoon?" Bickel asked on Wednesday evening during dinner just off base. "We've got lecture hall 7 starting at 10:00, so we should have plenty of time to run equipment tests."

"Ready," you promised him as the others agreed. You weren't nervous at all, just excited to share your work. The thing you were most worried about was how itchy your tattoo felt now. It was covered up and healing, but you couldn't imagine giving an hour long lecture in your polyester uniform pants successfully at the moment.

At least you had managed to keep it covered with your arm while you and Bradley had your facetime call last night.

You smirked and excused yourself to use the restroom, running your palms over your dress as you wound your way through the restaurant. When your fingers touched your tattoo through the fabric, you actually giggled. You had decided you'd let Bradley find it on his own when you got home on Saturday afternoon. You'd be exhausted from your week by that point, but you still couldn't wait to see what he thought about it.

You were excited for tomorrow's presentation. And on Friday night you'd be out with the Admirals. The Admirals!

You finally turned the last corner, but you weren't looking where you stepped. It was too late as you felt yourself collide with a man, and then you heard a familiar voice as he said your name.

His hands came to rest on your arms, steadying you as you felt a cold, horrible feeling wash through your body.

It was Josh. It was Josh, and he was touching your bare skin, and his face was next to yours.

"Oh, my god," you gasped, trying to pull out of his grip.

"Shit, it is you," he whispered, finally letting go of you as you wrenched yourself away.

You stood just staring at each other as you inched slowly away. Some remote part of your brain recognized that you were safe, you were surrounded by people walking to and from the restrooms. You didn't need Bradley or Jake or Bob. But you still felt clammy and uncomfortable.

"Didn't expect to see you in Annapolis," Josh drawled with a thoroughly disinterested look on his face. "You here to get me kicked off of another base? Get me demoted again?"

"Josh," you whispered, gathering your thoughts. "I'm here to give a presentation."

"I know. I saw your name on the keynote list. I should have been part of that project."

You scoffed. "You should have kept your hands to yourself. And I was never going to choose you, I was always going to keep Sonya."

He laughed bitterly. "Okay, now that much I do not believe. You can say what you want, but I'm not blameless here. You gonna get your huge boyfriend to hit me again, just for fun?"

You pressed your lips together before you said, "Fiancé now, actually."

Josh's gaze dipped down to your hand, but you didn't make the ring any easier for him to see. You didn't even want him looking at it. It was yours.

Then your mind wrapped around his words. "What do you mean? Hit you again?"

"Is he here?" Josh asked, glancing behind you.

"No, he's in San Diego, but if I call him, he'll be on the next flight. What do you mean by hit you again?"

Josh shook his head slowly, and you could see in his eyes how much he hated you now. A chill went through your body, but you didn't move an inch.

"You were there that night, at the bar. I assumed you sent him over to head me off. Him and that blond guy, too."

Your eyes went wider as you pictured Bradley and Jake hauling Josh out the doors of the Hard Deck. Your face must have given you away.

"So you didn't know he punched me in the face then?"

"No," you whispered. Now you were angry at Bradley and Jake, but you were even angrier at Josh for making you remember with vivid clarity the way he had touched you, all while he was standing right in front of you.

"He broke my nose and my ribs. I thought about calling the police. Getting him arrested."

A bitter laugh escaped you as someone nudged past you to get to the ladies' room. "Really? What stopped you? The fact that I would have reciprocated by turning you in for physical and sexual assault? You've got a lot of nerve even talking to me right now, so let's wrap this up. Is there anything else you'd like to say to me?"

Josh eyed you from head to toe, his gaze lingering on your chest for a few seconds before he shook his head. "Just that you weren't worth it. You seemed so fucking easy too. I'd hate to be engaged to you, the way you flirt with other guys like some kind of skank."

"Get the fuck away from me," you said, hating the way your voice shook. "Chelsea told me you did that shit all the time, and I was never even interested in you. You're a pig."

As he got himself in your personal space, you just wanted Bradley. But you forced yourself to hold your ground.

"And you're a bitch," he snapped next to your ear.

You sucked in a breath and swallowed hard as he strode away from you as you muttered, "Fuck you."

When he was out of sight you ducked into the bathroom and locked yourself in a stall. You hated the fact that he could get you so rattled. And you were steaming mad that apparently Bradley and Jake had pulled Josh aside, and everybody neglected to tell you about it.

You needed to get a cab back to your room so you could be alone and call the one person who would tell you the truth.

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

Everyone was obsessed with his home gym. It really seemed like the silliest thing for his friends to be envious about, especially since Bradley was always inviting them over to use it. He filled up a huge jug of water and grabbed his speaker before taking Tramp out back with him and heading toward the garage where everyone was already gathered.

"Holy hell," Nat muttered. "No wonder he's out here working out all the time. Look at this one!"

Bradley found Nat, Bob and Jake all huddled around the calendar where it hung on the wall, flipping through the pages.

"That's so pretty. I love how the photographer used the negative space to make a statement," Bob said.

Jake laughed. "I think you're supposed to be noticing her legs."

Bob stuttered. "Well, I...I just would never look at her that way. So let's be respectful."

Nat shrugged. "I am respectfully saying that I can understand why Rooster is so pussy whipped. Look at this!" She was pointing to the November photo with you in black lace, garters and stocking, and Jake let out a low whistle.

"Will you please stop looking?!" Bradley scolded, and Nat let go of the calendar like it had burned her.

"We weren't being crude," she replied with a smirk, but Bradley growled and carefully unclipped the calendar from the wall.

"August is my personal favorite," Jake commented, and of course that was the one Bradley liked because your tit was out.

He eyed them all up. Nat and Jake were both still smirking, and Bob was beat red and looked like he wanted to disappear. "I know she's sexy. I know it's a marvel that I'm with her. I know I am pussy whipped. I know, okay?"

"Just as long as you know," Nat said with a laugh.

Bradley tucked his calendar carefully into a plastic tub of photos from the storage unit before turning on a playlist. "You've all seen more than enough of my future wife. Let's start this damn workout."

Without another word, everyone grabbed some weights and got to work. Bradley was lifting while Bob spotted for him when he heard Jake's phone ring.

"Angel, how are you?" Jake drawled, and Bradley quickly set his barbell in the holder and popped up.

"What's wrong? Did she try to call me?" Bradley asked, walking over to his phone. Nothing.

"Whoa, whoa! Angel, calm down! That's not even what happened!" Jake was getting louder and pacing around.

"What's going on?" Bradley demanded, and he was answered by a hand held up in his face.

Now Bob and Nat were looking concerned as well.

Jake's eyes went wide and darted toward Bradley's, panic stricken. "You saw Josh tonight? In Annapolis?"

"Give me the phone!" Bradley thundered.

Jake just held his hand up again. "Angel, you know how I always have your back? I have Rooster's back too, I promise. Everything was under control that night at the Hard Deck."

"Now!" Bradley added, ready to take it away from Jake.

"He's about to rip my phone out of my hand, so I'm going to give it to him, okay?"

Bradley reached for the phone and juggled it until he had it to his ear. "What is going on?"

"Bradley! I can't believe you punched Josh and never told me! You and Jake both!" you shouted into the phone.

"You saw him tonight?! Where are you?" he shouted back.

"Are you going to tell me what happened when you hit him?" Your voice was near hysterics now, and Bradley knew he needed to calm himself down. He paced the length of the garage while three sets of eyes watched his every movement.

He readjusted Jake's phone against his ear and took a deep breath. "Sweetheart. I need you to tell me where you are and if you're okay."

"I'm in my room! I'm fine!"

Bradley found it was easier to breathe now. "And where did you see Josh? Does he know where your room is?" Bradley was not above calling your parents and telling them what was going on, since they were only an hour away from Annapolis. In fact his free hand was twitching to text them, and buy a ticket to Maryland himself.

"I saw him at dinner. He does not know where my room is. Now tell me why you risked assault charges to punch someone who doesn't fucking matter, Bradley!"

Jake took a step closer, asking, "Do you want me to talk to her?"

Bradley sighed and ran his hand over his face. "Can I put you on speaker, Baby Girl? Nat and Bob are here as well."

"Oh my God! Nat and Bob know about it, too? Am I the only one who doesn't know about this?! Should I call Mav and Penny and ask them?"

Bradley tossed his head back and gestured toward the garage door before he disappeared out into the evening air. He paced down the driveway as he said, "There's nothing to tell, Sweetheart."

You scoffed through the phone. "He said you broke his nose and his ribs, Bradley! Why would you do that? He doesn't matter at all."

"For you!" Bradley growled. "What other reason would I have to do anything except for you?"

"He could have hurt you! He could have called the police!" you wailed. "You could have been in serious trouble."

Bradley's blood was pulsing through his body, and he really wanted to punch out a window when he walked past your car. "He doesn't get to touch you without consequences. That's the bottom line."

"But what about you? You think you're not just as important to me?"

Bradley paced back up the driveway, running his fingers through his hair. "I understand what you're saying, my love. But roughing him up outside the Hard Deck was just a warning. I wasn't going to do too much damage. Even though I really fucking wanted to."

The exasperated noise you made had him almost on his knees. "And what if you got arrested?"

Bradley leaned against your car. "Then you bail me out. I added you to all my bank accounts already. You can use it for that."

"I'm not joking right now, Bradley."

"Neither am I! I'm not joking about the fact that all my money is yours. I'm not joking about the fact that I would fund my own bail money to defend you a million times over. And I'm not joking about the fact that I would have done a lot worse to Josh if left unchecked. So if you want to be mad at someone, you can continue to be mad at me, but I promise you that Jake was there the whole time. And he would have pulled me off of him if necessary. That's the kind of shit that Jake and I would do for each other."

Now you were actively crying, and Bradley didn't know what to say. He realized there was probably nothing that would make you feel better at this moment, so he went ahead and added, "I'm not going to apologize for what I did. And I don't feel bad about it. And I fucking hate that you saw that prick tonight. This is supposed to be your special week that you worked so hard for!"

He wasn't helping anything at the moment, but he couldn't stop himself as he punched the top of your car. "Baby Girl, I love you, and it's my job to protect you. Please try to understand where I'm coming from here."

You sniffed hard before saying, "Please let me talk to Jake."

Bradley heaved a deep sigh and headed back into the garage. "Okay. Here's Jake."

Bradley watched him take back his phone and head outside. "Angel, I promise you that I was with him the whole time......."

Every cell in his body wanted to know what you and Jake were talking about, but Bradley forced himself to sit down on the weight bench instead.

"Here, use this for a bit," Bob said, handing a twenty pound dumbbell to him. "Keep your mind occupied."

"She's probably just upset that she ran into Josh, and everyone else seems to know you got physical with him except for her," Nat told Bradley, placing a soft kiss to the top of his head. "She just needs to blow off some steam to Jake, so let him take care of it. In the meantime, I'm going to order some pizzas."

Bradley let Bob count his reps while he listened to Nat order one pizza with pepperoni and one with mushrooms. He suddenly just missed you so much. He should have taken a few days off and joined you in Annapolis to attend your lecture. He'd love to see the look on Josh's face if he tried to talk to you with Bradley standing behind you.

When Jake finally came back into the garage, tucking his phone into his pocket, he just sighed and stared at Bradley for a moment.

"Well? What did you talk about?" Bradley rasped, handing the dumbbell back to Bob.

Jake just kind of shrugged. "A lot of it was personal, so I'm not going to tell you, but I explained to her very calmly that she needs to get over it. I told her that I am completely taking your side this time, and that it was important for you to assert your dominance in this particular scenario."

Bradley grunted and stood, pulling Jake into a brief hug. "She likes you. She'll listen to you."

Jake nodded. "I told her to take an hour to think about things from your point of view and calm down. Then she's allowed to call you back, but she needs to be done being upset."

Bradley gaped at Jake, and a startled laugh escaped him. "And she's going to actually do that?"

"She better, or I told her I will be very disappointed in her."

"Shit," Bradley muttered, so impressed by Jake Seresin that he wasn't sure what had become of his life.

"Pizza's here. Let's go inside," Nat said, guiding everyone toward the house.

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

Jake was probably right. You were in shock from seeing Josh again, and you needed to think through what happened at the Hard Deck before you talked to Bradley again. You had stripped off all of your clothes, too hot and uncomfortable, before flopping down on the bed.

Thankfully Jake had taken the time to walk you through everything. He told you that Josh looked like he was going to try to approach you, but there was no way Bradley, Jake or anyone else in that bar would allow that to happen. Jake also promised you that Bradley was very calm the entire time, and the only reason he hit Josh was because he started bad mouthing you.

And especially based on what Josh said to you at the restaurant, you tended to believe Jake. The man had the nerve to call you a skank! As if you had done anything to wrong Bradley!

Oh Bradley. You had yelled at him on the phone. And he'd been the one to keep this information from you for months to try to spare your feelings. He just wanted to protect you and keep you safe. And really, maybe Josh deserved that broken nose and the broken ribs.

Okay, now you were thinking about Bradley fighting for your honor, and a shot of adrenaline coursed through your body. You ran your fingers along your healing tattoo and you reached for your phone.

After one ring, you heard Bradley's voice. "Sweetheart."

You let his raspy voice wash over you. He was always going to keep you safe. "I love you, Roo. I'm sorry I yelled at you. I was so flustered from tonight and then I was embarrassed. And you know you could have told me you hit him, right? I'm not fragile, Bradley."

"Oh, Baby Girl. You're not. You're so strong. I just didn't want you to have to keep dealing with this shit when I was more than happy to take over for you. You do the same thing for me sometimes. Like when you make fancy dinners for Goose and Carole just when I'm on the brink of collapse, because I don't think there's a good way to keep their memory alive."

"Okay. That makes sense." Jake was right. You just needed to take some time to think about things. "It's like sharing the burden with someone who can help in a different way."

"Yes," he replied, and you could tell he was smiling. "Exactly like that. And also, fuck you Jake," Bradley said, his voice raised so that you could tell he was yelling through the house.

You started laughing along with Bradley. "Don't get upset with Jake. He's kind of sweet, actually. He helped me process this."

"I love you, Baby Girl. But it's so late there, and you have a big day tomorrow. Are you okay?"

You took a deep breath as you sat up in the tiny bed. Your eyes dipped again to your tattoo. "Yeah, I'm okay, Roo. Thanks for always trying to protect me."

"Will you call me as soon as you can tomorrow? I want to hear everything about your presentation."

"I will."

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

Ugh, Josh..... she needs to finish up in Annapolis and get home. At least the tattoo is complete!

PART 9

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