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#you guys don’t understand how crazy my au is
jinkiesmariz · 1 year
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Now what if I said I would have garroth art for the new year
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jihyoruri · 2 months
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❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 THAT GIRL (she’s delicious) kim chaewon x reader
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↳ warnings: idol au, 6th member reader, pt 2 of rich girl yn drives chaewon even more crazy
THERE IS NOBODY THAT CHAEWON hates more than yn right now, how can one human being have such and ego? how can she be so sure of her self?
ever since yn has come up with the ridiculous idea that chaewon has a crush on her, which she doesn’t. she hasn’t let it go.
all she does is constantly tease the leader and become a royal pain in the ass, more than she usually is, everything she does has been getting on chaewon’s nerves.
like right now.
chaewon clenched her fists at yn’s irritating giggle as she leaned against kazuha interlocking her hands with the japanese girl who quietly listened to the girl rant about completely unimportant things with a small smile on her face.
she doesn’t understand how kazuha could deal with her and for some reason it bothered her how close the two were.
it always felt like there was something more, sakura told her that she was being dramatic and even if there was something going on why does it matter.
“it matters because I don’t want anyone I care about dating that demon.” is what chaewon had said to the older girl who rolled her eyes in response muttering a “yeah right.” clearly not believing chaewon’s reason. “what’s that supposed to mean?” she asked the older girl who just ignored her, “that girl is evil.”
chaewon scrunched her face in disgust watching the duo, she walked over to them with determination, “why are you guys fooling around, we’re supposed to be practicing.”
kazuha flinches at the leaders tone while yn just flipped her hair over her shoulder and looked at her nails, her hands still interlocked with kazuha’s.
chaewon narrowed her eyes at their hands, getting a weird feeling in her chest, which was definitely not jealousy and was concern for kazuha.
“why are you so pissy?” yn asked, chaewon opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by yn, “how does my nose look?” she asks turns her head to side to show her side profile, “I think a nose job is the way to go right now.”
chaewon squinted at the girls antics, while kazuha shakes her head, “your nose is perfect.” she says.
“oh my gosh really?” yn asks leaning her face closer to kazuha’s with a smile on her face, “are you just saying that?”
kazuha was about to respond but was cut short by a very irritated leader, “who cares!? and I am not pissy.”
“you so are.” yn says holding her hand out towards the leader who looks at it in confusion, “pull me up.”
chaewon rolls her eyes and pulls the girl up from the floor a little too harsh which caused yn to lean into her extra close.
“and I know exactly why.” she whispers and chaewon’s eyes widened at their close proximity.
yn then leans away from her and turns to kazuha who got up as well, “well, let’s practice.”
chaewon watched as they walk towards eunchae and groans, what does she mean “she knows why”? how cocky can that girl be?
this going to be a long practice.
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practice was long over and chaewon laid her bed staring at the ceiling while the simpsoms played in the background on her laptop.
she has to set the record straight with yn, the more days go on the more yn keeps dragging this crush thing.
she lets out a sigh and gets up from her bed and walks over to yn’s room she rolled her eyes at the gold door knocker on the girls door, she’s so extra.
chaewon reluctantly uses the door knocker and opens the door when she hears a soft “come in.”
when she walks into the room genie by snsd fills her ears as it plays from yn’s sparkly cd player.
it felt like walking into a new world, she’s never been in yn’s room before and it looks like sharpay evans barfed all over it.
she slowly walked into yn’s room and glanced at the floor looking at yn’s cat who slept on her crown shaped bed.
she turned to look at yn stood at her dancing and singing along to the song.
“did you know I actually have an exact replica of the outfit they wear for this song you know the white one with the fur?” yn says not even glancing at chaewon, still looking through her closet.
“daddy’s money?” chaewon asks leaning against yn’s dresser.
“tiffany unnie actually, she gave me the one she actually wore like a year ago, best moment ever, she’s like the older sister I never had now.”
chaewon raises her eyes brows in surprise but doesn’t let her voice show it, “oh yeah, you only have brothers right?”
“yep.” yn says before finally turning around to face chaewon, “now, why are you here? finally confessing your love?”
chaewon rolls her eyes as she watches yn laugh at her own words and sat on her fluffy bed, “that’s definitely it right?”
“no.”
“I’m actually here to talk about that.” chaewon says and yn raises a brow intrigued.
“I don’t have a crush on you.” chaewon says firmly and yn tilts her head to the side, “really?”
“yep.” chaewon says mocking the girls words, “no love here.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“what?!”
“just look at how you were acting at practice today.” yn says, chaewon thought the girl was looking her but she was actually looking at herself in the mirror behind her, “you’re obsessed with me, look at how acted over me just being close with zuha who is my best friend.”
“best friend.” chaewon mutters, “yeah right.”
“see, you’re so jealous.”
“I am not!”
“you so are.”
chaewon groans and throws her head back, how can she convince yn she doesn’t have a crush on her, maybe reverse psychology…
chaewon curses herself for what she’s about to do and tries to clam herself down from the feeling of fluster she already feels because she knows it’s gonna skyrocket after she does this.
she marches over to yn who looks at her with a taunting smile on her face, she grabs both sides of the girls face and smashes her lips onto yn’s, a surprised yelp escaping from the girl.
for a millisecond she feels yn kiss back but she immediately pulls away, chaewon can’t help but smile at the shock on the girls face.
she’s been waiting for the day that yn would become speechless and it seems like today is the day.
“would someone who has a crush on you do that? she asks with a smug smile.
yn is silent for a second before a smile slowly makes its way to her face and chaewon’s slowly disappears.
“yes, yes they would.”
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ecoamerica · 2 months
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Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
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chimcess · 3 months
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Waterlog || pjm (1)
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Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, Age Gap!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 17.4k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: discussions of significant death (does not happen in story), talks of a bad car accident, talks of drunk driving (please drinking responsibly), more than likely wrong swimming terms and poor understanding of how the Olympics actually works (I did so much research, pls be nice to me lol), strong language, lots of mental health discussions, reader has mommy and daddy issues, Older reader, Jimin is a complete sweetie, the tamest chapter of them all A/N: Well, well, well, look who came back. I first wrote Waterlog back in 2021, and while I enjoy the premise, I hate the finished product. I wanted to go back and edit/fix what I originally had, but when I tried it became so different, I was better off rewriting the entire thing. I hope you guys like this mini-series. If you would like to read the original go to my blog archive. Thank you for reading!
masterlist || next || playlist
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Staring at the pool, I managed to calm myself with relative ease. Jin had been right, physical therapy had made things easier. The water glistened prettily in the lights, and I waited with bated breath for my trainer to come in. 
Emery was a sweet guy, pretty with a lip ring and tattoos, but with a surprising amount of shyness it was laughable. His softness was offset by his powerful muscles, and I enjoyed his never-ending sense of humor. Unlike Dr.Maddox, Emery treated me like I was a normal person. Not an Olympian who almost lost her leg in an accident, or the woman whose fiancé died. I was just Y/N, and it was a relief to be around him.
Running my fingers along the scars on my leg, I mindlessly drew patterns around them in the silence. It was not normal for Emery to take this long, but his assistant had said he was running behind due to another patient, so I was unbothered. I had planned my entire day around this, so I was in no rush.
Finally, the door swung open revealing a disheveled Emery. Breathing heavier than usual, he rolled his eyes at me in frustration before saying his pleasantries. Whoever it had been had gotten him worked up.
“Rough morning?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
With an annoyed sigh, he nodded.
“I shouldn’t say this, but I hope that woman never comes back here.”
I laughed, “We all have that someone. Don’t feel too bad.”
Shaking his head, I could tell it took restraint on his part not to rant and rave about the woman who had left. Emery and I were more friendly than most. I had been seeing him for over two years now, but we still kept a semblance of a professional relationship. Especially Emery.
“How’s the kids?” He asked, making small talk as we started getting ready for a swim.
I was the coach of a high school swim team in town, something I talked about quite a bit, and Emery always liked hearing about. He was a great water polo player but chose to go into physical therapy while he was in college. After seeing one of his friends get injured and how much physical therapy had helped him, Emery decided to change his major. Four years later, he says he could never see himself doing anything else.
“They’re doing well,” I said honestly. “We got a couple of freshmen on the team, but they’re doing a lot better than I thought they would.”
Emery hummed, offering me assistance getting into the pool. While walking had been mostly figured out, the obvious limp aside, I still had some trouble with getting in-and-out of things. Even my bathtub had to be switched out since I was unable to step over it. I still used the medical chair while in there, too.
The water was cool against my skin, and I felt instantly relieved. The dull aches and pains left as soon as I got into the water. Swimming to my usual spot, I waited patiently for Emery to join me.
“That’s great to hear,” He smiled.
Going to the edge of the pool, Emery grabbed a set of barbells and handed them to me. Taking them, the two of us went over the workout plan for the day. Pulling himself up on the pool’s edge, Emery picked up his stopwatch and told me to begin.
Getting on the interstate, I sang along to the radio as I made my way to Hoseok’s. The two of us had been friends since high school, our mutual love for swimming making it impossible to keep apart, and only growing with time. He was one of my biggest support systems after the accident. Both of us had retired years ago now, but I remembered our days as Olympians fondly. Those were the best years of my life.
A small group of our friends were getting together at his house to watch the summer Olympics this afternoon. The women’s swimming finals were happening today, and I knew two of the girls competing. Turning on my blinker, I quickly got off the interstate.
Pressing around my car’s radio screen, I went to my contacts and pressed Andy’s number. She was off today and in charge of getting everything together. Hoseok had tried to do it himself, but always seemed to forget who should do what and ended up buying everything himself. She picked up after the fourth ring.
“What’s up, sugar?” Andy greeted, her voice soft and light. Her Memphis accent was thick and brought a smile to my face. Everyone had made jokes about her being southern when we first met. “Don’t tell me you’re missing Nationals.”
I shook my head even though she could not see me.
“I’m on my way,” I replied. “What should I pick up? I completely forgot.”
Andy sighed, “You’re just as bad as Jin.”
Seokjin was Andy’s husband. The two of them had been together whenever they moved to Colorado, married before I ever met them, and became quick friends with Hoseok when they moved to the Springs. That was how I had met them. Whenever their daughter Dani was born, Andy had asked me to be her Godmother and I sobbed in her lap. They were my closest friends next to Hoseok. Jin was indeed very forgetful, though, and the jibe made me chuckle.
“Cut me some slack,” I argued. “I’ve been working out for two hours straight.”
I could hear the smile in her voice, “Just get some pizza or something. We’re picking up some wings and Hobi’s in charge of the drinks. Minho and Tilly are bringing… something. I don’t even know anymore.”
Fully laughing now, I saw a Little Ceasars up ahead and got into the correct lane. Minho and Matilda were loose cannons when it came to our parties. While sweet, and fiercely loyal, I found myself wondering why I hung out with them at times. We were night and day personality wise, but I loved them dearly. Minho would probably bring some Korean side dishes from home, and Matilda would pick up a few packs of ramen from the store. Andy was stressing over nothing again. I hoped she was getting proper rest on her days off.
“I’m at Little Caesars,” I told her, parking my car. “I’m going to get the basics. How many things of Crazy Bread should I get?”
She thought for a second before replying.
“Five?” She was definitely unsure about her answer.
It was hard to gauge just how hungry everyone would be, and Jin was a bottomless pit.
“Sounds good,” I said instead, already thinking about getting more.
“Drive safe. See you in a bit.”
“See you, Andy,” I unplugged my phone from the charger.
Pressing it to my ear, I pressed my start button and turned it off. I climbed out of my car and started walking to the store.
“Love you,” She sing-songed playfully.
“Love you, too,” I replied. Opening the door, a worker greeted me with a smile. “I’m about to order.”
Shoving my phone in my back pocket, I gave the worker an awkward smile before telling him my order. I ended up getting seven bags instead of five. Just in case. Dani really liked the stuff and Jin could smash an entire bag by himself. While I waited for the cheese pizza to come out of the oven, my phone started ringing.
“Hello?” I answered, unable to check the caller ID while the cashier shoved the crazy bread into my arms.
“I heard from a little bird that you’re thinking about competing again.”
I grinned and thanked the cashier as she handed me my other pizza. 
“Hello to you, too, Frank,” I replied. “And your little birdie wouldn’t happen to be Hoseok, would it?”
Frank and Sarah Boone had become a part of my life after the accident. They ran a local support group to help those affected by drunk drivers to get connected with resources and therapy. The two had lost their son when he decided to drive home drunk from a party and used the group as their own coping mechanism. They were wonderful people and owned their own joint coffee shop and bookstore in Denver. 
“Won’t say names,” He chuckled, “But it might have come from a certain part-timer. So, is it true?”
I placed the boxes in the passenger seat and rounded my car. This was not a conversation I was expecting to happen today. I had brought up the idea to Hoseok since the Olympics were coming up next year, but I was not committed to it. I was enjoying my new job coaching and did not think I was in any condition for competition. When he brought up the Paralympics I laughed. Those competitors were in better shape than I was, and I doubted I would qualify. I was disabled but my disability did not (as far as I knew) carry over into the pool.
“I was just talking shit, Frank,” Backing out of the parking space, I put in Hoseok’s address and started to drive. Switching over to my car’s phone, I put my phone down and looked at the road. “You know I’m happy with my life right now.”
He made a grunting noise that told me he did not really believe me. No one did. All of them were sure I was miserable about my career ending far before its time, and while that may be true, I felt more loss about the life I was supposed to have than winning medals. I missed Namjoon more than any medal. Frank and Sarah understood that.
“I know that,” He cleared his throat, and I could hear the congestion. Frank had come down with a nasty case of walking pneumonia two weeks ago and was still recovering. “Just got a little excited is all. It would be nice to see you putting yourself back out there.”
It would be nice to see myself back in the pool, I could admit that. I had dreams of it at times. Being a competitor was a part of who I was. From the first time my dad took me to my swim classes when I was six all the way until I claimed my eighth Olympic medal, everyone had said there was nothing I hated more than losing. I was fiery, free-spirited, and kept my eyes on the prize. It was the thing Namjoon loved about me the most. That made me frown.
“I left a champ,” I forced a laugh. “Need to save some gold for the rest of them.”
Hiding behind humor was a pastime. 
Frank laughed, oblivious to the hollowness in my tone. “Heard they have a new guy taking your place.”
That made me snort, “He’s not taking my spot. Totally different competitions, my friend.”
“Winning gold like you, that’s for damn sure.”
It must be Jimin Park. The kid turned up on the scene a year after my accident. He was a very, very talented swimmer. Fast as a bullet with the best butterflies I had ever seen, Park was a force to be reckoned with in the men’s league. It was a joy to watch him swim and this year would be his first Olympics. Hoseok and I were very excited to watch him.
“If you’re talking about Park,” I chuckled. “He’s far from new. He’s been competing for a few years now. First Olympics, though.”
“He’s young, ain’t he?”
I nodded, “23, I think.”
Truthfully, I did not know how old he was. I remember the buzz around how young he was when he first broke out on the scene. He was eighteen when he took home gold all season before a family emergency took him out of the Olympics last minute. No one knew what really happened, but his team had said his brother was in an accident, tragically losing his life, and Jimin was prioritizing his family. He’s competed every year since and with the Olympics next year, I was certain Park would be there. He deserved it.
I was parked in front of the house now and from the cars outside, I was the last person to arrive. Frank and I talked for a few moments. It was cute how much he had learned about swimming so we could be buddies. Sarah was the only person who recognized my face when I first started going to the meetings and her husband was determined to get me to open after weeks of sitting in bitter silence in the back. 
We hung up after I promised I would make it to the meeting next Thursday. Frank was not happy about me skipping the past two weeks, but understood I was taking some time to myself. My boys were going to compete this year, I had fought tooth and nail for that funding, and the extra hours at school were exhausting. Jeremy and Evan showed promise, but they knew how to drive me up the wall with all of their simple mistakes.
As I suspected, the party was in full swing. Matilda and Minho were laughing loudly on the sofa, Hoseok sporting a beer in the recliner next to them, and Dani practicing her gymnastics in the middle of it all. I could hear the commentators talking animatedly about the girls, who they believed would come out on top and highlights from the night before, but I never really paid them any mind.
“Pizza’s here!” Minho boomed, practically running to greet me.
I laughed, handing over the boxes, “Need help carrying the rest in.”
Matilda offered, happily taking my car keys and leaving the house. Minho had disappeared into the kitchen. Dani spared me enough attention for a smile and wave before launching into excited pleas for me to watch her new moves. 
“Super cool, babe,” I smiled sweetly after her handstand. Dani was not particularly good at gymnastics. She started later than the other girls, rarely did anything she was actively afraid of, and hated her coach. Andy was already looking for a better gym, but I just thought she should start pointing her in another direction. Dani loved dancing and she would be a wonderful ballerina or figure skater if given the proper training. The Kim’s, however, seemed fine watching her deal with gymnastics and cheerleading. “You’re getting better.”
Dani beamed, “Daddy said the same thing.”
Flipping the right way around, her hair coming out of its messily tied bun and falling down past her shoulders. Brown, loose waves made her look so much younger than her eight years, her small stature only selling the illusion even more. Her skin was smooth, and she always looked as though she had been playing outside in the sun, a constant tinge of pink beneath her sandy skin. Her features favored her father, large eyes, long face, and plush, pillow-like lips, but after meeting Andy’s parents, I could see her grandmother hidden within the mischievous glint in her eyes and too small ears.
“Your dad’s a smart guy,” I joked. 
She continued to babble away as I made myself more comfortable, kicking off my shoes and tossing my hat onto the small buffet table that sat above the shoe rack. Matilda came back inside, her arms filled with bags of bread, and I took two from the pile. With a thankful, thin-lipped grin, she also complimented Dani’s moves before disappearing around the corner in the direction of the kitchen.
“Dani,” Hoseok seemed to have finally grown tired of hearing the girl talk. I would imagine this was all he had been hearing since he arrived. “Do you want to color with me?”
The little girl clapped happily, her eyes bright and shining, before abandoning her mat to gather a few coloring books and her massive hoard of crayons. Hoseok looked at me then, a sly smile on his face before winking. I chuckled and shook my head. He always did that to make her shut up. 
I left the living room before Dani came back. I loved her dearly, but I could admit she talked too much. It was a good thing for a kid her age to be so social but that did not mean I wanted to hear her every waking thought. Andrea and Seokjin were the only parents in our little group, and I imagined it would stay that way for a while. Even if my dreams of children were still alive, I did not have anybody I wanted to take on that responsibility with.
Minho was eating the pizza, as expected, while Matilda had already claimed her own bag of Crazy Bread. Andy and Jin were snuggled up at their dining table, his arms securing her to his chest, and she curled into him. I loved watching them together. I had grown up in a house with two people who hated one another, barely kept up a facade of civility before my mother skipped down to be with her new boyfriend in Florida leaving my dad and I behind in Pennsylvania. We made it work but things were never the same after that. It made me happy to know little Dani would feel the love radiating in her home as she grew up. I had never seen two people so enamored with one another in my life- not even Namjoon and I.
“How was therapy?” Minho asked after we exchanged pleasantries. “Hoseok said you were talking about competing next season.”
I laughed in disbelief. That man did not know how to keep his mouth shut. I said the same thing I told Frank over the phone, and he scoffed. Minho never truly laughed, if I was honest. It was always a snicker, scoff, or chuckle. He was a man of little words and even fewer outbursts of joy, and I found his versions of those things just as reserved as the rest of him. He was the most expressive when he smiled, but those were just as rare as a genuine laugh. Dani managed to squeeze more out of him than anybody else. 
“Stop meddling!” Andy scolded the other man from her spot in Seokjin’s lap. 
“Never,” My friend replied, amusement clear in his voice.
“Never!” Dani echoed, voice louder than Hoseok’s. She was giggling happily alongside him, and I rolled my eyes. He was her favorite. “Never!” She repeated again, pleased when Hoseok laughed. “Never!”
“That’s enough,” Jin’s voice was even and smooth.
Dani did not shout again but we could all hear her and Hoseok attempting to cover up their laughter. Andy smiled fondly. Their little friendship had warmed her heart. After Dani, Andrea had been diagnosed with cervical cancer. It had come back six times before her doctor said she needed to get a hysterectomy. She grieved the children they would never have, the large family she dreamed of stolen from her, but once Dani was old enough to walk, she had been glued to Hoseok’s hip.
Hoseok for all he spoke about never wanting children, he adored Dani. His family was small, he and his sister the only children, but they were extremely close. She lived in New York City as a fashion designer and got married last year, and I always had the feeling Hoseok felt lonely without her. Dani was a welcome break from routine and made him feel special. It was sweet but I hoped my friend would find someone to share his life with someday. 
“It’s starting,” Hoseok announced.
It was a great day for the U.S. Opal Simmons was one to look out for. She was the oldest woman on the team, a shocking 24, but she could out swim a vast majority of them. Her freestyles were amazing, earning her a gold with Japan just a few points behind. I was hopeful she would be able to come out on top in her distance swim. While not the fastest in the pool, the girl knew how to pace herself. The cameras cut to the shot of one of her coaches smiling triumphantly at the performance.
He was a good friend of mine, Oswald Bunch. He had been heavily involved with the Olympics for years now, promoted to one of the lead coaches back in 2020, but I remembered when he was still competing. A few years older than me, Ozzie was known for his backstrokes and long-distance swimming, and we bonded whenever we got the chance to meet in London back in 2012.
That was my first Olympics. I was a fresh-faced 20-year-old on a mission. My team at the time was stoked to have me around and I was excited to be there. I had built up a solid reputation over the course of two years, winning seven medals my first adult-competitive season, and the high was incredible. Back then, I was always the one to beat at the breaststroke and therefore, the medleys were in my favor as well. I walked away with 4 golds that year, and again in 2016. The accident happened a year later, but I left the competitive world with 8 gold Olympic medals and 19 world champion gold medals. Katie Ledecky held the record now, but for a time, I was the most decorated female swimmer in history. I was excited when I was finally passed up, happy for the younger woman.
Ozzie was the man, but sadly never got out of Michael Phelp’s shadow. It was not his fault. That man was insane in the water and would become the most decorated Olympian ever. Bunch was a great swimmer, but I did not know a single person who could compare to Phelps. Hoseok, maybe, but he only had 12 gold medals. Phelps had 23.
“Simmons looks great out there,” Hoseok praised, a large smile on his face.
“Her butterflies could use a little work,” I murmured back, already seeing how I could fix it with some extra exercises. “It’s slowing down her freestyle. What else is she scheduled for?”
“I think she’s doing the 200-meter freestyles and the medley relay,” He replied, taking a sip of his beer. “Bunch is banking on her pacing.”
“She won’t win those,” I was positive. “She’s just going to get tired. Breaststrokes are obviously not her thing.”
He laughed, “You’re the breaststroke queen, Y/N. No one's as good as yours.”
I shrugged, “Ledecky is a great swimmer.”
“Never said she wasn’t,” He sipped. “Her freestyles are killer. Girls could never beat you in breaststroke or a medley. You’re untouchable there.”
It made me smile despite myself. Hoseok was right, those were my competitions. Even if Katie had surpassed my record for most gold medals ever, I still had more Olympic medals than she did, and they were in completely different events. I could have kept my title had the accident never happened. I would have. Even if we were friendly, Ledecky would have been my competition, and I would have fought hard to keep the record.
“What’s Jimin doing this year?” Matilda asked as the women’s scores were posted. Opal would be a strong contender. “Anyone know?”
I nodded, “I haven’t watched every competition, but he’s sticking to what he does best. Didn’t he swim the 200 yesterday?”
“Yeah,” Hoseok replied. “He’s skipping out today and doing his individual tomorrow. Swimming back-to-back after that. Kid’s a fucking animal in the water.”
I couldn't agree more. As I stared at Opal’s smiling face, her pale blonde hair and bright blue eyes, I wished I had been able to watch Jimin instead. She was cold and impassive even with a large, perfectly white grin that took up most of her face. In fact, I found her quite boring outside of the water. No flair or features that set her apart. Just a tall, well-built blonde with a nice smile. Ozzie would have to work hard to make her memorable.
“Simmons did well,” I yawned. “It’s getting late, though, and I have work in the morning.”
The goodbyes were quick, and Dani made me promise to take her roller skating soon. There was a girl at school making fun of her and she wanted her “super cool” and “famous” aunt to tell them off. We all laughed, and I told her we could go this weekend after gymnastics practice. 
My drive home was uneventful. It was already dark out, something that bothered me more than I would ever admit out loud, and I never turned on the radio. I preferred to drive in absolute silence, eyes and ears glued to the road. I had only started talking on the phone recently.
I was much worse after the accident. I refused to get inside of a car for weeks and if I did, I was a mess. No one was allowed to be a distracted driver either. No radio, no phone, no conversations. Nothing. Jin had been the default chauffeur during that time and put up with my anxiety better than the others.
It was close to a year before I tried to sit in the front seat again. Another five before I got behind the wheel. For hours I would sit in the garage with my hands on the steering wheel staring off into the distance. I was still in a wheelchair for most of my daily activities and a very obvious limp made me too self-conscious to be seen. Isolating was easy. Keeping the others away was more difficult.
My drives started with me just backing out of the driveway. I went around the block a few weeks later, hands shaking and Andy trying her best to soothe me in the passenger seat. I did not drive past the Whole Foods two minutes away from my house until after the second year. Things were easier after I ditched the wheelchair and got more open to the idea of therapy.
Moving out of Denver was the best decision I ever made, the Springs were easier to drive in and the traffic was not as awful. Andrea and Jin bought in Black Forest once I was settled in Briargate, so loneliness was never an option.
Matilda almost moved in after the housewarming party Andy threw for me. She said it was far too big for one person and the neighborhood was to die for. I laughed her off at the time not really wanting to admit how nice it sounded.
Nestled in Fairfax, my house was a beautiful piece of architecture. The striking brick and wood front exterior provided a warm welcome, with teal trimmings bringing a fresh feeling to the otherwise plain color scheme. With five bedrooms and four bathrooms, I dreamed of the day I was able to fill them all. A dream that I hoped would come before I hit 35.
 Pulling up to the house, I waved to Chika next door. The old woman raised her hand, still nursing a large mug of what I assumed to be tea and smiled. They were lovely people and we often helped one another out whenever we could. Chika liked to bring over food if she cooked and I paid my landscapers to keep with their lawn.
“Late night?” Chika called out from her front porch. 
“Went to a friend’s house,” I replied.
“Good,” She meant it. “Glad to see you getting out of the house.”
I smiled but was not sure how well she could see my face in the dark.
“Yeah. Night, Chika.”
“Night, Y/N.”
I showered quickly and sipped on a cup of chamomile tea before heading off to bed. After taking my night medications, one to force myself to sleep while the other blocked the never-ending nightmares, I climbed into bed. I was able to play a single game of solitaire before they both kicked in. I fell asleep with the sound of gentle rain humming in the background.
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“Let’s go, guys!” I yelled, blowing my whistle.
The twelve boys waited, their small talk coming to an abrupt end. We had just finished warming up and I allowed all of them a short water break. I was a huge advocate for rest periods. No one needed to pull a muscle or fatigue early due to over working. I had a 2800-yard routine prepared, 800 of those done during our warm-ups, and the rest divided between our main set and cooldowns.
Jordan, our captain, was smiling happily. He was such an excited kid, and his positivity was contagious. While some of the boys were disappointed when I first chose him to replace our old captain after his graduation, I was sure his spirit would do everyone some good. It did not take long for the others to come around and he was beloved.
“Alright, so we have a 1600 main set. In between each of our reps, we will be doing a switch out of easy breast and backstrokes. Clear?”
“Crystal!” They all replied in unison.
“Alright. That's what I like to hear,” Flipping through my clipboard was more for show than anything. I used to rely on it heavily when I first started teaching since brain damage messed with my short-term memory, but I had been doing this long enough to know what was happening. Now it was just a way for me to write notes about their performances. “We’re starting with a 4x100 with 15-second rest; the first 25 butterfly. 3x100 with 10-second rest; again, first 25 butterfly. Following?”
No questions were asked, and a few guys voiced they were good for me to keep going.
“Good. Then we have a 2x100 with 5-second rest. First 25?”
“Butterfly,” Jordan replied.
“Thank you, Abbot. Okay, and we’re finishing up with 8x50 freestyle. Fast and easy.”
All twelve of them began to prepare to take their mark. One by one they stood on their blocks and waited for me to make the call. I admired them all for a moment. You could see the difference in each one of them. Those who were confident stood tall, their shoulders squared, and head held high. Newcomers were still figuring out their place on the team but were eager to prove themselves. Two of them would be leaving us this year, Gabriel and Marcus, and neither one of them were continuing to swim after graduation. It was a sad thought, but I was happy with how they carried themselves. They had both come a long way.
“Take your mark,” My voice echoed. Each boy got into their starting position as I watched them like a hawk. One of the freshmen, Phineas, needed major work on his form. I would talk to Jordan about it. Grabbing hold of my stopwatch, I took a deep breath. “Go!”
Marcus was the first in, like always, and I ignored him. I knew he was fully capable of taking care of himself. Phineas was the weakest link in my chain right now. He was struggling, his arms growing tired and his speed nonexistent. The other freshmen, Tobias, or as the guys called him, Twig, was not much better. He had more strength, but I chopped that up to his size. I would need to really start working some more beginner drills to get them in shape. Jordan and Gabriel would be more than happy to give up a Saturday or two to help out. 
Marcus was the first one finished and I marked his time. Still a tenth of a second faster than Jordan. After Jordan came Gabriel and then Joseph and Anthony. I was disappointed in Jett’s time, but I would invite him to the weekend practices with the others. He needed some foot and hip exercises. Twig came in before Phineas, but every other boy was already out of the water by the time they made it back. Phineas was visibly upset, and I made a note to pull him to the side after practice to cheer him up. 
Practices typically lasted two hours and the boys swam hard. Phineas did, in fact, perk up after I told him I was noticing tons of improvements in his performance. Twig just seemed happy he was not the worst guy in the water. After talking it out with Jordan, we decided on a good weekend time for extra practices, and I stayed behind to print off a poster and signup sheets for the rest of the boys. I had a feeling almost everyone except Marcus would show. He had a part-time job now and his weekends were full. 
Sitting in my office, I poured over my observations and timecards. With a team this large I should have an extra set of hands to help with timing. I sent an email to the principal asking about helpers and got back to the nitty gritty. 
All of them could work on something. Phineas might have needed the most work, Twig not far behind him, but my most seasoned swimmers had room for improvement. Jett was still struggling with maximizing propulsion, Anthony and Milo needed to get better water balance, and Gabriel’s pull could be better. Even my best swimmers, Jordan and Marcus, could use a bit of refinement in technique. It was nitpicking but they were too talented to give up on their potential.
It was close to nine when my phone began to ring. I knew it could not be any of my usual calls. Andy was working nights this week and Jin was fast asleep at home with Dani. Minho was in bed by eight, Matilda would never bother me this late, and Hoseok hated phone calls. Checking the caller ID, I was shocked to see Ozzie’s name.
“Hello?” I answered tentatively, afraid he might have called me by accident.
“Otter,” Ozzie greeted me happily. He seemed so delighted that I answered, I smiled even though I hated the nickname. “How’s life going?”
I chuckled, “Rockin’ and rollin’. Saw your girl last night. Looks great, Oz.”
“Appreciate it,” He was so dismissive of it I became interested. This was not a catch-up phone call or else he might have hooked onto the bait. My stomach twisted in anticipation. If it was not for pleasantries, then it was for work and that was something to be excited about. “Still teaching high school?”
“Mhm,” I fiddled with my pencil, papers forgotten. “My boys team is strong. I only have three girls that signed up so we’re just training during P.E. and hoping some more join.”
We chatted a bit more about the team. The longer it went on the more knots I had. Oswald was fishing for something, and I wanted to figure out what. After telling him about Phineas, I asked what the random call was about.
“Always cutting to the chase,” He joked.
I did not laugh.
“Alright, you caught me,” Ozzie sighed. “Look, the Olympic team is looking for another assistant coach and your name came up a few times.”
My mouth went dry. I had heard about Tiara Marsh leaving to focus on her family. She had a baby and stepped down a few months after coming back from maternity leave. I respected the decision and messaged her my congratulations. Ozzie had taken the lead coach position three years ago with Todd Packer as his partner. The other assistant, Drew Jones, was a sweet girl from what I heard and working with her would be a dream. 
Still, it was an impossible task. Trying to imagine myself on the sidelines, coaching the next big names in sporting history with a massive squad behind me made my stomach queasy. I doubt any of them respected me. My leg was ruined, my career burned out just as quickly as it started, and I never had the chance to reach my peak. Now I am a 30-year-old washed up recluse. Just thinking about the media frenzy made my breathing get a little heavier. 
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Oz,” I murmured.
“I told them you wouldn’t go for it,” He replied, unsurprised. “They’re going to approach Storm Kline instead.”
“Oh,” Now I was confused. “Why’d you bring it up then?”
“Because I got to thinking,” I braced myself. Ozzie was known for his big, bright, dumb, impulsive ideas. “I knew the Olympics would be asking too much of you. Cameras and interviews are the last thing you want after the fucking circus you went through last time.”
That was an understatement. Circus did not even begin to describe the absolute hell the media put me through after the accident. So many speculations and insensitive remarks managed to ruin any peace I could have gotten during that time.
While I was in a coma, no one knowing if I would ever wake up again, the news thought it wise to harass my friends and family. My old coach, Victor Stanley, was assaulted whenever he left the hospital. When news got out that Namjoon was pulled off life support, his mother and father were so sick and tired of people parked outside their house they packed up and moved away before I even woke up. I wanted nothing to do with the media after that.
“It’s a little different but I think you’d be a great fit for the job,” Ozzie continued. “One of my boys, Jimin Park, is in need of a personal coach. His mom is sick and he’s wanting to stay in Michigan for as long as he can before coming out to the Springs to start training for Paris.
“I almost called Jung, but I don’t think the two of them would get along well enough for this to work. You’re the only person I know I can trust with him, and from what I’m hearing, you’re one hell of a coach already.”
This was somehow even more nerve wracking than the assistant position. I had never trained one-on-one before, at least, not long term. I was sure I could do it, but a high schooler was very different from an Olympic athlete relying on me to keep him in shape for the season. 
“What happened to Hamilton?” I asked, still unable to wrap my head around the situation. “I thought he was Park’s personal trainer.”
“He was but the two fell out when Jimin decided to stay in Michigan. You know how Matt is.”
That I did. Matthew Hamilton was a massive asshole, and that was putting it lightly. He was one of the best trainers around and got results which was why he still had a job despite his rotten attitude. I had the misfortune of running into him quite a few times over the years and my distaste only grew with each passing. I could imagine that conversation not going over particularly well.
“But what about my team?” I asked, staring at my desk. All of my plans and strategies were mapped out and I was ready to put them to use. My boys were counting on me and leaving them felt wrong. “I don’t want to leave them high and dry, Oz.”
“Ask Hoseok to cover for you,” I rolled my eyes at his blase attitude.
“This is my team.”
“And this is Jimin Park.”
I hated that I understood where he was coming from. Most of my boys would never go off to swim professionally and their skill set was not on par with anyone out right now. They were not committed to the strict regime that would take and I did not get paid well enough to justify the extra hours. Jimin, however, would pay me extremely well and I would get that experience under my belt. I might even learn a few new things to add to my own drills.
“Give me a few days to think about it,” I finally conceded. “And set up a phone call, or meeting, or something with the kid. Need to make sure we’re on the same page before we waste one another’s time.”
Ozzie laughed, “I think you’ll get along just fine, but sure. I think he’d appreciate the gesture.”
Nothing of much importance was said after that. We hung up with promises of talking soon and then I was alone once more. My office was still just as messy and swamped with paperwork as it had been before, but it all looked different. It felt like I was already gone, and a deep homesickness settled in my chest. I stared at the papers in front of me and sighed before shooting a text to Hoseok.
As I expected, everyone had told me to jump at the opportunity. Hoseok even said if I didn’t, I would be the biggest idiot he had ever met. Matilda asked if she could come (I told her no), and Dani just seemed bummed that we could not hang out anymore. Andy and Jin were the most supportive of the situation while Minho the most cautious. He was worried about the media catching wind of something and causing a frenzy. After Matila pointed out how old news I was, I felt a little less afraid of that possibility even if it was a hit to my ego.
Ozzie seemed pumped when I told him I was open to the idea if Jimin and I seemed to mesh well. I was firm in my decision to talk to him before making any concrete plans, and from what Ozzie told me, my future student was extremely receptive to the idea. I also learned that Opal was jealous of her fellow Olympian, but I tried not to let that puff up my chest. 
That was why I was sitting in my home office, hair nicely styled and a light layer of makeup on waiting for Jimin to join our Zoom call. I wore blue since Ozzie said it was his favorite color, but the material was slowly driving me insane. While the color was nice, deep blue and sparkled whenever the light hit it, it was scratchy and irritated the skin around my chest and shoulders. I almost got up to change but a small icon with the letters ‘JP’ in the center popped up before I could.
“Hello?” A soft voice called out.
“Hey,” I replied with an awkward wave. “Can you see me?”
“Yeah, can you see me?”
I shook my head, “Just your icon.”
Cursing under his breath, Jimin apologized for the tech issues. I adored how nice he was to listen to. It was unique, gentle and raspy, but also feminine in its softness. There was no bass or hardness, every sound and syllable light and airy with self-depreciating laughter after every insult he threw at himself. Apparently, Jimin was not great with technology and always had a difficult time with cyber meetings.
“This is fine with me,” I tried to reassure him. “I don’t need to see your face to talk.”
“No,” He agreed, “But it’s a little awkward for you to have your camera on and mine’s off.”
I could hear him clicking around. “I’ll turn mine off, too, if that helps.”
He shut that down immediately and continued clicking and typing. After a few more minutes, he found his problem. Then the icon was gone and there he was.
His face was round, his cheeks plump, and chin soft. The first thing I noticed about him was his lips. They were rounded and plump like a baby duck with a soft, heart shaped cupid’s bow that led up a small, button nose. Everything about his face was soft except his eyes which were almond shaped and flicked outwards like a cat’s. His hair was pitch black and parted down the middle, framing his face and making his pale skin look like snow. When he caught a glimpse of himself in the camera a large smile took over his face and I felt the wind get knocked out of me. 
“Can you see me?” He asked.
I nodded, “Yeah, I think we’re in the clear.”
Neither one of us knew what to say for a moment. He swirled around in his chair in search of his water bottle. He stood up, excusing himself for a moment. He was also wearing a blue shirt, a pair of black pants, and seemed just as nervous as I did. He left the room while I sat and thought about him.
There was one word to describe Jimin: pretty. His soft lines and tiny waist made him look so much smaller than I had imagined him. All of the years seeing him on the tv did nothing to compare to watching him walk around a little room in his home. Without a cap and goggles, Jimin was angelic, and I felt uneasy. How was I supposed to work with someone I found this attractive?
“Sorry,” He was back now, a large Yeti cup in hand. “I should’ve made sure I had this already.”
“No worries. I’m not in any rush.”
He sat back down, and I finally noticed the large oval necklace he was wearing. I did not know what it could mean to him, but I had seen him with it a few times at events. It was simple and silver, no gem in the center of the pendant, and sat directly over his heart. He took a sip from his cup, snapping me back to action.
“How’s your mother doing?” I asked. “Ozzie told me she wasn’t well.”
His expression saddened me, and I hated that I brought it up. I knew how much I did not enjoy talking about Namjoon’s death, and while his mother was still alive, she was not well. Unfortunately, I could not take the question back.
“I’m not sure how much you know,” He started, leaning back in the leather computer chair. “She has melanoma and isn’t doing chemotherapy anymore. I’m staying in Michigan so I can spend as much time with her as possible.”
My heart ached for him and his family. Cancer had a reputation for ripping families apart and I could only imagine how this was affecting the young swimmer. My own grief was long and drawn out, guilt and shame hanging over my head for years before I was finally able to let it go, but the death itself was swift. Joon was dead and buried before I woke up from the coma, but I could recall every detail of that hospital room when Victor told me what happened. I hated to think about watching the life slip from him, knowing he would die, and knowing there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.
“I understand. I’m really sorry to hear that.”
I knew it was inadequate, but I did not know this man well enough to say my thoughts out loud. Maybe later, after a few weeks of training together, I could get the courage to let him know I would be there if he needed someone to talk to. I knew all about navigating grief and I would happily help him stay motivated through this horrible, tragic time. Jimin stayed quiet so I took it upon myself to get the ball rolling again.
“I know you’re going through a difficult time right now, and I just want you to know that I get it and I see you. If we work together, I will make sure your mental health comes first. Whatever you need, whatever your family needs, will always come before getting in the pool.
“You were working with Hamilton before this, and whatever happened between you two- I don’t know, that’s none of my business, but I can promise you I will try my best to make sure our professional relationship doesn’t reach that point. Just tell me what’s up and I’ll make it work.”
Jimin smiled a small, sad smile that paled in comparison to that blinding show of teeth earlier. My eyes could not help their roaming and I felt guilty. There was a chance we would be working together, and I could not feel this way about him if that time came. I could only hope that if we did decide to move forward with this arrangement, any affections I could have for him would get buried. I would have to talk to Hoseok about this.
“I have to take her to appointments once a week,” He replied, voice small and eyes staring at something off camera. “She’s not getting her chemo anymore but still goes to see her doctor often to manage symptoms as best she can. She also has a dance class every Sunday morning and I will be going with her.”
I nodded, “I can live with that. As long as you’re still putting in work you can take your mom anywhere.”
He took a deep breath and finally looked at the camera again. The vulnerability I found there took me off guard. Jimin must be someone who wears their emotions on their sleeve, and I would have to learn to nurture that. Namjoon always told me I needed to work on being more sensitive to others, a skill I had yet to master. 
“Matt didn’t like how much time I spent out of the pool. I understand where he’s coming from but I’m hoping we can come up with a training schedule that works well for the both of us. I feel bad enough pulling you away from your life, and I don’t want my personal shit to bleed into what you’re going through.”
It was a kind gesture, one I appreciated, but he needed to get over it. I told him in so many words that I was happy to help him.
“Trust me,” I said. “If I didn’t want to do this then we wouldn’t be talking.”
Jimin seemed to like my bluntness and I was fond of his over-analytical anxiety. The way he fidgeted reminded me of Namjoon, his forward and direct confrontation of his emotions and needs so strikingly similar it made it nearly impossible for me to dislike him. I don’t think a person alive could dislike this man. 
“I can be in Ann Arbor next week,” Jimin had gone on another rant about inconveniencing me and I shut it down. “Everything here is already squared away. We can discuss it more later, how does that sound?”
He smiled wearily, his nerves causing him to squirm in his seat. 
“I’m really looking forward to working with you, Y/N.”
I hoped my expression looked as sincere as I felt, “I’ll take care of you, kiddo.”
Pulling a face, Jimin laughed heartily. Triumphant, I smiled brazenly, his laughter contagious. I made a note to pull out a few age jokes now and then if it meant making him smile like that. 
“I’m an adult man, I’ll have you know,” He was still laughing.
“Could’ve fooled me,” I teased.
“We’re going to get along just fine,” He seemed more confident than ever, and it warmed my heart. “Let me know when you’re expected to get here. Do you have my number?”
We exchanged our contact details. After days of talking over email, I finally found a smiley face emoji in my notifications, a Michigan area code attached. Saving his number, I replied with the old woman emoji earning myself another laugh. 
“Talk to you later, Park.”
“See you, coach.”
I left the meeting, my chest much lighter after talking to him. He was a sweet man and not half bad to look at. I was a few years older but not disgustingly so, and he was more than available from the sound of things. Realizing the direction my thoughts were going in, I stood up from the chair to start writing out some drills and scheduling prototypes. Before I could get out of the door, however, my phone vibrated in my hand.
Jimin: 👶
I did not respond until I had my flight booked.
Me: I’m flying in on Tuesday. Know a good place to stay?
He replied a few minutes later.
Jimin: Do you need a lot of space?
Me: Not really
Jimin: One of my neighbors has their mother-in-law suite for rent. I could probably cut you a good deal with them.
I smiled. He really was a sweetheart. 
Me: Thank you. And no deals. I can pay for myself.
Jimin: My mother would be very upset if I didn’t at least try.
Jimin: I was raised to respect the elderly.
I laughed out loud, thoroughly amused. I had a feeling he was testing the waters after I poked fun at him earlier. Jimin was probably used to the stick stuck up Hamilton’s ass. He was in for a treat. At the pool I was cool and collected but I could cut up with the best of them. 
Me: Sorry, couldn’t hear you over the sound of my hip breaking
I was practically giddy with excitement waiting for his response. It had been such a long time since someone joked around with me like this. Hoseok tried but he was awful at taking a joke, so I stopped poking the bear. It was refreshing and all too familiar. 
Jimin: I’ll get you one of those life alerts just in case.
Was he flirting with me? Did I care? Shrugging, I went along with it. I would remain strictly professional while we worked together, but if things developed after that I would let them. Happily. I barely knew this guy, but I remember this feeling. It was the first time since Joon’s death that it showed itself to me and I wanted to hold onto it.
First work then play, I told myself. 
Who knows? This little bit of infatuation could fade just as quickly as it came, and I would leave Ann Arbor with a new friend instead. Might even be able to score a steady job with the kid if things worked out. My life in Colorado would remain untouched, my friends happily accepting a new kid in the group when he came to visit, and my house just as bare and empty as it always had been. The years continuing to pass me by.
I tried not to think about why that thought made me want to cry.
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“I told you I’m fine,” I sighed into the phone, waiting at the baggage claim for my things. “You’re in rare form today.”
Andrea laughed, the sound slightly hysterical and I winced. That was the wrong thing to say, but she was driving me insane. I had traveled around the world multiple times, and she was acting like Michigan was going to kill me.
“Well excuse me for worrying,” Andy bit back, her tone clipped and harsh.
“I’m sorry,” I heaved one of my bags off the conveyor belt. “I know you’re just looking out for me, but I promise you I’m fine Andrea. You’ll be my first phone call if that changes.”
The other bag finally popped up and I quickly snatched it. Slinging the large duffle bag over my shoulder, I adjusted it until it rested comfortably on my shoulders. Lifting the handlebar off my large suitcase, I drug it behind me while I followed the signs for the exit. Jimin said he arranged for someone to pick me up but did not specify who. He was busy with a few interviews this morning and could not get me himself. He had been very disappointed about it.
“I know I’m nagging,” Andy groaned. “Scratch that. I’m acting like a total helicopter parent.”
I laughed, “Your husband had been even worse. The man tried to book me a charter flight because he was worried about my leg in an airport. What the fuck does that even mean?”
Everyone had been super happy for me, especially my team. Those boys almost cried when I told them who I was helping out and Jordan begged me to bring him back something autographed. None of them seemed as familiar with my own background but I was fine with that. All of them took to Hoseok rather well, except for Marcus who made me swear to come back before school let out. I did not tell them I was planning to make monthly trips to give Jimin some space with his mom. I was sure that surprise would go over very, very well.
Despite his indifference when I was first talking about the job, Seokjin became an overprotective dad as soon as I made him aware my flights were booked. He was quick to cancel them and put in a few calls of his own. Jin was an operations manager for Delta airlines and knew plenty of pilots. He was able to get me a plane to land in Willow Run out in Ypsilanti, but I quickly intervened and told him a normal flight was perfect. I rebooked my tickets and flew into Detroit Metro at 10 am.
Andy snorted, “He means well.”
It was snowing in Michigan, and I was finally hit with the realization that I would be seeing far more of it here than I ever did back in Colorado. It was only mid-September, so it was still light and melted away quickly. I would have to ask Jimin if it stayed this calm into December, but I had a feeling things would pick up by late November. 
It was a very cold morning in Detroit, and I was excited to get into a heated car. Getting off the phone with Andy, I quickly sent Jimin a quick text message letting him know I was outside and looking for my ride. A loud honk made my jump, almost dropping my phone in the process.
Pulled up at the curb was a navy-blue Volkswagen Beetle. I could tell from its body that it was an older model, and it was a convertible. Sitting behind the wheel was a little old lady, a pair of gardening gloves on her hands and a pair of large, hexagon sunglasses taking up most of her face. Her face was familiar, and it hit me. Sitting behind that wheel was Jimin’s mother. 
She smiled at me and waved, beckoning me closer to the little car. I forced myself to smile back. My nerves made it feel damn near impossible, but I managed. Opening the door, I did not know where to put my things. The backseat was so small.
“There’s a lever on that side that’ll push it up. You should be able to get everything to fit if you try hard enough.”
Fumbling around, I finally found the little handle and pulled up. The seat lurched forward, folding in on itself, and I clumsily shoved my suitcase into the backseat. It smelled like stale cigarettes and fake pine, but when you had a car this old it usually had history. I was excited to pick up my new car from the dealership. My Porsche already had a difficult time driving around Colorado and I did not think it would survive the heavy winters in Michigan, so I decided to leave it home and get an Altima. I had the money and could easily get rid of it. Tilly had been talking about needing an upgrade. 
Finally managing to get both bags into the backseat, I put the seat back and got into the car. Closing the door, I sighed in content. The heaters were at full blast and pointed directly at my cold face. Buckling my seatbelt, I leaned back and tried to relax after the long day of flying. Jimin’s mother pulled off the curb.
“It’s cold out there,” She laughed, her voice just as sickeningly sweet as her son’s. “Glad you were able to make it okay.”
I nodded, “I’m surprised to see it snowing so early. We don’t usually get anything until closer to Thanksgiving.”
“Colorado, right?” I could hear a faint accent and I remembered that Jimin was first-generation Korean American. Both of his parents moved to the states before he and his brother were born. Media outlets loved talking about it, but I was not sure how much he enjoyed discussing his personal life. While he came off as a sweet and mild-mannered man, he kept his personal life private. “I’ve heard it’s very pretty.”
“It is. Too expensive, but very, very pretty.”
Then she was fiddling around with the radio, and I finally cracked a genuine smile. I was not sure how much work had been done on her car, but I was positive the sound system had been completely redone. A brand-new radio, complete with a touch screen and Bluetooth, lit up at the touch of her fingers. A man’s voice serenaded us through the updated speakers, and I was in awe at how beautiful it sounded. I assumed he was speaking Korean and Jimin’s mother sang along fluently. 
“What’s your name again?” She asked once the song was over. Another, more upbeat song started, and she increased the volume. “Jimin told me but I’m horrible with that sort of thing. I’m Na-Yeon, but Audrey works if it’s easier for you.”
I pulled a face, “Audrey?”
“It’s my American name. It’s easier for people to pronounce and more convenient. All of us have one. Jimin’s is Christian.”
It was odd to think about. A name that was mine but not mine. Christian did not suit Jimin, but I could imagine growing up with a name that other people made fun of would be difficult. Maybe even impossible. Still, I did not feel comfortable calling the woman Audrey. She did not seem to particularly care for the name and I did not want to alienate myself from their circle for convenience's sake.
Namjoon’s mother had been similar to Na-Yeon, always afraid her culture and customs would make me uncomfortable or burdened, but I managed to calm her fears and reassure her after years of showing up to Chuseok with a smile on my face and food in my hands.
“I like Na-Yeon,” I finally replied, voice small. “It’s nice. I’m Y/N.”
“I like Y/N,” She echoed back to me, making me grin. “It’s nice.”
It was a long drive filled with K-pop, ballads, and sporadic conversation. Na-Yeon was very funny. She sang along to every song, dancing as she went, and calling on me to sing alone. Of course, I could not speak Korean very well and hummed the melodies instead, but it appeased her. When she did speak to me it was to ask me questions about myself. 
“You’re that swimmer, aren’t you?” She asked, sparing me a look once we stopped at a redlight. “The one everyone’s trying to beat.”
I shook my head, “At one time, sure, but not anymore. I’m retired.”
Squinting her eyes at me, Na-Yeon pursed her lips. 
“We used to watch you. Haru called you a mermaid.”
 That was not too much of a shock. Jimin was swimming at that time. While I am a few years older than him, he would have been in middle school when I went to my first Olympics. He had told me he joined the swim team the year before. He said that watching Michael Phelps win 6 gold medals changed his life forever, and I could not help but agree with him. I had a huge amount of respect for my fellow Olympian and wished him well in his retirement. What shocked me the most was the mention of Jimin’s little brother. The dead brother.
“That’s sweet,” I did not know what to say. “I felt like a mermaid back then. I’m not that good anymore but I still like to swim sometimes.”
“You were in an accident,” It was not a question. “We saw it all over the news. Couldn’t believe all of those people harassing your family like that. So sorry for your loss.”
It was strange to talk about it again. I appreciated her keeping it vague. I had gone through a tremendous amount of change and growth since then, but it was nice to hear someone else validate how crazy the media frenzy was. I would not wish it upon anyone, and I was happy her family was allowed to grieve in peace. Neither Namjoon’s nor my own were allowed that luxury.
“Thank you,” I replied. “I’m sorry about Haru. I can’t imagine what your family went through.”
She smiled sadly, “I think you can.”
We did not talk much after that. The music still played, Na-Yeon still sang, and I still hummed, but we did not ask any more questions. Neither one of us wanted to bring up those hurt feelings. It was not until we turned down a long, empty road that I realized I had yet to ask her about her cancer. 
“Are you feeling okay?” I asked.
“As good as I can,” She breathed. “My boys are both worriers so don’t take anything they say to heart. Bunch of hypochondriacs.”
And even though I laughed along with her, I knew that she was lying. They were not overreacting. She was sick, refusing treatments, and letting herself die. Anyone would be worried about her. Na-Yeon must dislike being taken care of. Well, I thought she would need to get used to it. I loved spoiling others. 
“Eloise and the kids must be here,” She muttered to herself, pulling to a short driveway. 
I did not know who Eloise was, but I would soon find that out. There were two cars parked out front. One was a simple, black Tahoe with a brightly colored steering wheel cover. The other was another vintage model. Painted a pretty light, muted green the truck was in pristine condition. It was an old Ford, the branding written across the tailgate, and a spare tire was bolted to the side. I asked Na-Yeon about it and she smiled happily.
“It’s Jimin’s,” I felt my heart rate increase. “He must’ve gotten back. Pretty thing, huh?”
I nodded, not really paying attention to the truck anymore. I was about to meet Jimin for the first time and my nerves were taking over. I knew how much his looks affected me over video chat and I was afraid I would not be able to control my facial expressions in person. I was resolute not to act on whatever attraction I may have felt toward him. My professionalism would not allow it. It did not mean, however, that I wanted to discuss it with Jimin at any point. It would make him uncomfortable and affect our working environment. 
“Keep your bags in the car,” Na-Yeon told me. “Jimin’s going to take you over to meet the Andersons this afternoon.”
Walking up to the house, I was first struck by two things. The main one being the impressive teal it was painted and the other the loud talking and laughter coming from inside. It was odd. Thinking about my own parents I knew we had never been so happy. Mom had left when I was so young that I could hardly remember her, but I could recall the screaming and shouting. Dad was quiet after she left, spent most of his time locked away in the garage watching sports channels and leaving me to my own devices. 
When I started swimming it helped for a time, but when I was old enough to leave, we spoke two or three times a year. After he met Danielle, his new wife, he stopped reaching out altogether. The accident had spooked him enough to warrant holiday and birthday calls for a time, but when he had another baby those slowly faded away. My half-sister and I had never met, Danielle did not like acknowledging that my dad had a child with another woman, and it seemed as though my dad was fine with how things turned out. I dealt with it.
The laughing echoed through the house, and I could hear loud foot-steps pitter pattering on the tile floors. The house smelled heavily of kimchi and lemons making my heart ache. Joon and I used to keep the windows open for days after his mother came over to make kimchi with him. We would squat on the floor for hours, laughing and talking. I missed those days more than I realized and I smiled involuntarily. For the first time in years, it felt like coming home.
“Sorry about the smell,” Na-Yeon whispered to me. 
I shook my head and took my shoes off. “I love kimchi.”
She smiled brightly, her shoulders immediately relaxing. I was glad I had spent so much time with Namjoon and his family. Na-Yeon was someone who wanted to make others feel more comfortable even if it put her own peace at risk, but I would never ask her to change her routine for me. I loved learning about other people and her little house brought me more happiness than I thought possible. 
“Sounds like we have company!”
A short, stocky man came into the living room. He was wearing a white polo shirt and khaki shorts; his hair was very short with silver streaks starting to take over the once very black strands. Catching sight of me he smiled. 
“You must be Y/N,” The man said. “I’m James.”
His accent was much thicker than Na-Yeon’s and he introduced himself in his English name. He seemed much happier about it than his wife did, and I decided to go along with it. If he wanted me to call him James, then I would.
“Nice to meet you,” I replied, giving him a small bow.
His smile got even bigger somehow, and he returned the gesture. Na-Yeon chuckled beside me and started to speak to her husband in Korean. I picked up a few words and deduced that he was supposed to make sure I was going to get a nice lunch, and she wanted to know if he had taken care of it. He nodded and told her he had.
“Hungry?” James asked, Na-Yeon already disappearing into the house.
“Yes,” I quickly followed behind him.
“I made jjigae,” He frowned. “I can’t say it in English. Sorry.”
The house was small and warmly lit. Cream tile flooring, exposed wood beams, and white walls. Whatever loud conversation they had been having before I got here had died down, but the footsteps did not. I could hear children giggling somewhere in the little home and my curiosity peaked. I did not think they were Na-Yeon and James’s.
“I want to say it’s soup,” I kept my voice down not wanting to make him feel awkward. “Or stew, but I don’t think it matters that much.”
“What’s the difference?” James asked, just as amused as his wife at my vague knowledge of Korean words. “Soup and stew the same, no?”
I shrugged, “I have no clue. I’m a miserable cook.”
That made James laugh. We passed all of the rooms in the house, the kitchen, living room, and dining room all in the back of the house. As we passed the second room to the left, James said it had been Haru’s photography studio before he passed away, but they ended up converting it once Eloise gave birth. He did not say it out loud, but I had gathered the kids running around had been their youngest son’s. I did not know how old Haru had been when he died, but it was far too young to be having children. I was 31 and still felt ill equipped for the job. 
It was a small kitchen with very simple and plain colors. The countertops were obviously laminate, but someone had taken the time to stick on a marble patterning to make it look nicer. Black appliances clashed with the chestnut cabinets. The tiles were no longer cream but hideous black and white checker printed that clashed heavily against the olive-green backsplash. While the rest of the house seemed to go through renovations at some point, I had a feeling the kitchen remained largely untouched. 
Sitting at a small table on the other side of the room were Na-Yeon, Jimin, and a young woman. She was a cute girl, long brown hair and blue eyes, a large number of freckles across her cheeks. Her outfit was very modest, a pair of flowy cream pants and an equally flowy olive shirt. Her hair was tied back with a ribbon that matched her pants, and taking a closer look at her, she wore no makeup. A classic girl next door.
“Come sit,” Na-Yeon waved me over, her voice showing no room for argument. “Hyun-Soo is in charge of lunch.”
I was only briefly confused, the name completely unfamiliar, but by the time I sat down I was sure she was talking about James. It made sense for her to call him by his Korean name, and since I had shown no qualms about using their proper names, she saw no need to bring them up herself. 
“Nice to finally meet you,” Jimin’s sweet voice reached me, and I smiled at the sound. “I hope getting here wasn’t too bad.”
He reached out to me, and I happily took his hand in my own. The skin was soft, perfectly smooth, and warm. It was over far too quickly but my displeasure was easily hidden. Andrea always complained about my poker face and how difficult it was to get past it. She said it was too good and thus refused to ever play poker with me again. 
“It was nice,” I meant it. Na-Yeon was wonderful company. 
“Hope the concert was nice.”
That made me and Eloise laugh. Na-Yeon smacked Jimin’s arm playfully, unable to keep the smile off her face, and the two began to bicker. Having them in the same room highlighted the differences I hadn't noticed before. Jimin’s nose was closer to his father’s, his eyes, too, and both of them had a slight lisp. Na-Yeon’s teeth were perfectly white and straight while one of Jimin’s front teeth was slightly chipped. Jimin had a dimple; his mother had none. Their English soon turned to digs in Korean and I could no longer follow. A few words here and there but nothing substantial. James joined them.
“Hi,” Eloise shyly greeted me, obviously used to being left out of conversations.
“Hey,” I replied lamely. “Eloise?”
She nodded, “Cam and Harper are playing but you’ll meet them in a bit.”
I nodded along and cemented the names into memory. It would look bad if I forgot them and kids had an ability to remember the worst things about a person. I did not want them to dislike me this quickly. Their giggles and feet were still going, and I suspected they had their own rooms on top of the little playroom in the hall.
“What do you do for work?” I asked Eloise, hoping my attempts at small talk were going over well. The other three were still chatting and I stopped paying attention long enough to be completely lost. Their dialect was different from Namjoon’s family, and I gave up entirely once they switched in and out of it with ease. 
“I’m taking over Audrey’s restaurant,” Eloise, it seemed, preferred to use their American names. I wondered if she called Jimin ‘Christian.’ I really did not like the name for him. Not at all. “We used to be co-owners but she’s preparing for…” Eloise’s eyebrows scrunched together as she struggled to come up with a way to voice her thoughts, “her next steps. You know what I mean?”
I nodded. It was so easy to forget why I was really here when Na-Yeon was so full of life. She laughed and joked easily, sang off-key in the car without a care in the world, and called the shots at home. I had hardly noticed any sickness, but I knew better. I already figured out she hated being cared for and our trip in the car could have taken a lot of her. More than I realized.
Wanting to change the subject, I asked about the kids. Eloise was more than happy to talk about her little ones. Cameron and Harper were twins, names that she had originally been very against but when she lost Tony (Haru preferred his American name, Anthony, and all of his closest friends called him Tony), her opinions changed. Harper was the bigger, older baby, while her brother needed to stay in the NICU for a few days after birth due to his weight. They were joined at the hip and rarely seen without the other, something Eloise was happy about given she was usually too busy to spend as much time with them as she would have liked.
“How old are they?” I asked.
“Almost 4.”
Jimin was 19 then. I shuddered to think about how old Haru was, or Eloise for that matter when they became parents. When I was their age, I had been at the top of my game, though not what I would call my prime. If I had gotten pregnant my career would not have been over, but meeting Joon never would have happened. That was a travesty regardless of how things turned out. Trying to picture a life without him touching it made me physically ill and so I pushed any of those thoughts away.
Cam and Harper came out of their room when dinner was ready. They were both very cute, loud, and dressed identically. Harper’s hair was braided down her back while Cam’s was in a bowl cut, and I laughed every time the little girl made a big show about her sparkly red shoes.
James made a very spicy fish stew. It was delicious, so salty and hot, but I needed multiple glasses of water as I ate. He used red snapper adding a sweet, nutty flavor to the otherwise savory dish and I loved the zucchini. Like many Korean meals there was an array of side dishes surrounding the large pot of stew. Tonight was braised potatoes, steamed eggplant, a radish salad, and, of course, kimchi. A small bowl of rice was given to all of us to eat the stew with and the rice cooker was filled if any of us wanted more. 
The Parks were a lovely family. Jimin was quiet and did not talk to me much but his mother more than made up for his silence. After getting all of the details about my coaching job she moved on to my life back in Colorado. We talked about my friends and what they were like, my house, and even my neighbors. Na-Yeon seemed particularly interested in Hoseok since Jimin had been such a fan of his growing up. 
“You need to get her over to Calvin and Violet’s,” James told his son, scraping up the last bit of the soup out of his bowl. “They’re expecting her soon.”
Jimin looked at me, eyebrow raised, “Are you ready?”
I nodded, “We can leave whenever you’re done.”
He smiled and went back to eating his meal. Eloise left before I did, Cam was tired and Harper was bored without her playmate, so she decided it was time they went home. Cam liked an afternoon nap still, but his sister could run all day if you let her. Harper gave me a big bear hug before she left, something Na-Yeon said she did to everyone, and held her brother’s hand on their way out. 
Na-Yeon eventually got up from the table, James followed after her, leaving Jimin and I alone. I did not know what to say, if he wanted me to say anything at all. He had hardly spoken to me since I arrived, and it left me feeling out of place. I was here for him, and he wanted nothing to do with me. He kept eating, the spice unfazed him, and getting bowl after bowl of rice. 
Watching him walk around I was struck by how short he was. Most male swimmers were huge, well over 6 feet, and broadly built. Not Jimin. He could not be any taller than 5’9” with a thin, tiny waist. I could see defined muscles hidden underneath his white t-shirt, but nothing spectacular. Even his body was soft and elegant, moving gracefully and quietly, and absolutely none of it would give away that he was a world-class athlete. As if he could feel my eyes following him, Jimin’s eyes snapped to meet my own.
“Sorry,” He pulled his spoon from his mouth. “I’m sure you’d like to leave and here I am gorging myself.”
I stopped him before he could stand, “No, no. I’m fine. I was just thinking about your workout routine.”
The lie felt heavy on my tongue, but I could hear how natural it sounded. He sat back down and took another bite of his food. His workout regime was standard for most swimmers. Pull-ups, bench, squat, lunge, power cleans, power cleans to overhead press. After that he was in the pool for a few hours before going about his day. He usually added in another swim at the end of the day, but he had recently given it up to have dinner with his family. 
“What are you doing for your core?” I asked.
“I stick to pull ups, crunches, thrusts, and back extensions.”
I nodded, frowning, gears in my head turning. I have always believed the core was the most important part of swimming. Arms as well, but I have seen many overwork those muscles and lose from weak turns. Hoseok used to joke about my performance and how I only won because of my turns. I would make sure he would be able to see a little bit of me in Jimin’s swimming. There was a reason I won gold.
“You don’t look very impressed.”
I chuckled, “Just thinking. You need more variety than that.”
“Gym snob, are we?” His mouth stretched into a playful smirk, and I could not help but smile back. “You must be an animal in there.”
“I don’t work out like I used to,” I admitted, averting my eyes. “Most of my exercises are yoga and running now. I swim twice a week.”
I was hoping to get back in the pool more often, but I was not sure I was ready for the disappointment that would follow. My sessions with Emery were simple, exercise-focused, and had little to no expectations behind them. They were there to help me gain strength and confidence in myself. Saturdays were spent with Hoseok doing laps around the pool and shooting the shit. It was just enough to get your heart pumping but never went past that. 
Failing was daunting. I could not remember a time before swimming consumed my life. My dad always said I was afraid of the water; it was the biggest reason he placed me in lessons. He did not have the time (nor patience) to teach me himself, and after I saw younger children getting into the pool I was determined to act like a “big girl.” I was only three at the time, so the memory was lost to time, but I went every week after that. It gave my dad a break and I had friends for the first time. I learned later that mom had left for a few months and dad was drinking again, but at the time all I knew was that I liked swimming, and I was good at it.
It was frightening to believe that all of the time, energy, and hard work went to waste. 30 seconds. That was all it took to destroy my life. 30 seconds and all of my joy, love, and happiness was gone. My career, my health, and my Joon. I hated the man who hit us. Hated the way his family cried for me. For him. For Joon. Squeeze my hands into fists, I was glad they were hidden underneath the table. Getting in the water and realizing it was truly over would only make that hatred worsen, and my therapist told me I needed to let go of my anger.
“Violet and Calvin are excited to meet you,” I did not know if Jimin could see something in his face, perhaps my eyes, but he changed the subject. The look on his face made me feel exposed. “We should get going.”
No one was around when I left so I did not get to say goodbye, but Jimin yelled that we were leaving. We did not get a response and I wondered if his mother had actually gone to do laundry or take a nap. She looked tired when she left the table. Jimin told me to get into the truck and laughed when I said I could grab my own bags. 
“Your hip might give out, granny.”
Off guard, a strange, loud noise came out of my mouth. He had yet to start up our playful banter and my heart soared. Jimin was a very cheeky man, his tongue sharp, and with a quick snapback time, he was difficult to take down. Our text exchanges were always brief and about work, but he managed to squeeze in at least one teasing comment about my age. He said calling him ‘kiddo’ is what started the whole thing.
“Just get in the truck,” He sighed melodramatically, rolling his eyes.
Huffing, I went across the lawn and got into the unlocked truck on the curb. The interior was just as refurbished as the exterior. The bench was covered in a dark green vinyl, and I could tell the rubber carpet mats were new. It smelled much better in Jimin’s truck. Less like cigarettes and more like the cologne he wore. It was floral, powdery, but with a subtle spice that made it bitter-sweet. It had a nice scent. It suited a man like Jimin whose own spice was buried underneath his pretty visage. 
Watching him jog across the yard, I suppressed a sigh. It was easier to ignore how pretty he was when we were around other people. Now it felt impossible. His clothes stuck to him like a second skin, the black leather pants (which I had only just noticed were leather) making his thighs bulge and accentuating his backside. He was gorgeous and I felt sorry that I would have to keep it to myself. Jimin deserved to be told things like that, but it was not my place to do so. Not as a coach, trainer, or otherwise.
He tossed my things into the cab of the truck as if they weighed nothing. Arms lifted; his shirt rose revealing a delicious patch of skin. Watching him in the rearview mirror, I swallowed audibly. A thin, almost nonexistent patch of hair touched his belly button. Forcing myself to look away, I took a few deep breaths.
This trip was going to be long. Very, very long. 
The drive down the road was quiet. Jimin’s radio was out, and he needed to replace it, so music was not an option, and he did not seem to want to fill the space between us. Neither did I. My growing bashfulness around him was distracting and strange. I had always been surrounded by attractive men, all of my friends back home were very good looking, but none affected me in the same way Jimin had. Perhaps it was due to my relationship with Namjoon that made all of the other men pale in comparison, but I could never know for sure. Either way, it was incredibly frustrating.
We drove for less than ten minutes. Calvin and Violet were the elderly couple renting out the small house in their backyard. Jimin had spoken to them for me, and they were all too willing to help me out. Violet nearly cried when I told her I was going to pay all of my rent up front, and actually did when I told her that I would help her fix up some things around the house while I was in town. The Andersons seemed like lovely people, and I was happy to know them.
Pulling up to the house I smiled. It was exactly how I imagined it would be. The Anderson house was a simple, All-American home with a front porch. The window trimming was black, house white, and a beautiful garden wrapped around the front at either side. The roof and front door were the same color green as Jimin’s truck, and it helped the otherwise unnoteworthy home feel more inviting. Sitting on the porch swing was Violet, her silver hair braided down her shoulder.
“Before we get out,” Jimin mumbled, waving at Violet through my window. The old woman waved back, a large smile on her face making her look twenty years younger. “The Andersons are great people, but Calvin’s starting to forget stuff. Violet won’t admit it but it’s getting hard on her to deal with him. He can become very angry so keep an ear out. Last time he had an episode, Violet called my dad crying. She’s not handling it well.”
I frowned, my heart hurting, “Sure thing. I’ll let you know if anything happens.”
“Thanks.”
He was out of the car a few seconds later, voice so sweet and bubbly you would have never guessed what we had been talking about. Staring after him, my eyes squinted. I would have to keep my eye on him. Jimin was a great actor.
Getting out of the truck, I took out my bags and slung my duffle on my back. Jimin was quick to take my suitcase away once he caught me in the corner of his eye. Violet seemed positively giddy about it and made a few inappropriate comments about Jimin needing to settle down.
“I’m just saying,” She laughed when Jimin scoffed, face flushing the prettiest shade of pink. “You’re going to make a young woman very happy. Might as well get started.”
It was strange to think about my trainee seeing someone. He had made it very clear in his interviews over the years that his dating life was on hold until he was finished swimming. He did not want the added distraction and his family life was far too chaotic for him to focus on someone. This did not seem to deter Violet and her comments about his love life, or lack thereof, continued until we got inside of the house.
“Well,” Violet acknowledged me for the first time since I arrived, “This is the main house. It’s not much but it’ll work. Christian, take her stuff out back.”
I cringed. It really did not suit Jimin at all, but he seemed completely unfazed. Violet used his names interchangeably, sometimes calling him Jimin and other times Christian, but his English name rolled off her tongue more often than not. I wondered why she even bothered calling him Jimin at all. He did not seem to care either way.
Looking around the little house, I was pleasantly surprised by how clean it all was. The floors were carpeted and the walls a bright white, family photos hung up alongside landscape paintings. During my two-hour phone call with Violet, the woman talked my ear off, she bragged about Calvin’s art. I had to admit they were all very beautiful and I wanted to know where he had found all of the slices of heaven he captured. I hoped the places themselves were more colorful than he depicted. The muted washes of color made them blend in with the rest of the boring house even with how nice they were.
The furniture was just as boring as the house itself. All of it was cream or beige, nothing of importance really stuck out to me, and I was disappointed. All I could figure out about the couple was one was an artist and they had children and grandchildren they loved displaying. Even the smell of the house lacked character. No air freshener, no food, and no perfumes. Nothing to give away that people actually lived here. The Anderson home was a foil to the Park’s in every way.
“Come on out back,” Violet was already across the house, standing in front of a door beside the kitchen. “This is the utility room. You can do your laundry here.”
Following behind her, I felt even more depressed looking at her kitchen. It was nice, new appliances and a pretty coffee station on the corner closest to the utility room door, but it was bland. All white cabinets, white marble countertops, and stainless steel everything. Even the curtains hanging around the windows above the sink were dreadfully plain.
The utility room, like everything else, was plain. The washer and dryer were white, the floor concrete, and the shelving barebones. The detergent was the most colorful thing I saw since arriving. Somehow even this room smelled like absolutely nothing. Directly across from the door we entered was the backdoor and Violet told me where they would hide a key for me to be able to get inside.
“Ready to see it?” She asked, smiling politely. 
I nodded, “Thanks again for renting it out to me.”
She chuckled, “No thanks needed. You were paying, that was enough for me to say yes.”
The back porch was tiny, just barely big enough for the both of us to stand on. There was a small vegetable garden along the side of the house, but it was empty. Noticing my wandering eyes, Violet told me all about the turnips and gourds she had been planting this season. She had watermelon and tomatoes in the summer, but they were long gone. The rest of the yard was taken up by my home for the next few months.
It was small, but that was to be expected. What disappointed me, though I should have not been very surprised, was how white it was. The windows were a dark gray, a small porch was set up with enough room for one of those hanging egg chairs, and two built-in planters. They were empty and Violet told me I was welcome to give gardening a chance if I was interested. She was planning on growing some flowers eventually, but she was not sure what she wanted.
The front door was open, Jimin already inside, and Violet and I went in. There was a small entryway, two doors leading to rooms I would explore later, and a small shoe rack. I took mine off and put them up. Violet watched me and took hers off as well.
“Audrey told me I should put one in here,” I was learning that Violet enjoyed meaningless small talk. “Glad I did. Don’t think Christian took his shoes off, though.”
I shrugged, “No biggie. I was going to clean up around here anyway.”
The house opened up to my right and I was happy with the space. I had a fully functional kitchen and enough space for my coffee cabinet along the wall. The living room would be able to fit a small loveseat, television, and coffee table. It was white and plain, but I was very happy with the floors. Whoever picked out the dark vinyl flooring must have had me in mind. I would go crazy if this place was as sterile as the Andersons’.
“I put your stuff in your room.”
Turning I grinned at Jimin. It was sweet of him to help me out. I was going to pick up my car tomorrow morning and he had volunteered to drive me. We would be starting our training next week so I could have some time to settle in. All of my furniture was arriving either tomorrow or the day after and my hands would be full. I was counting on Jimin and his friends to help me unpack. His manager was going to make himself known as well, but would not be staying for long. Apparently, according to Jimin, Sejin was not one to get his hands dirty.
“Thank you.”
“I’ll let you get settled in,” Violet was already scratching to leave, and I wondered why. She had been very hospitable over the phone. “You’re welcome to join us for dinner. Calvin is going to bring the air mattress out here tonight, so you have someplace to sleep.”
With a kiss on Jimin’s cheek, Violet slipped on her flats and left. Alone with Jimin again, I found it hard to speak. We were much better over text. Looking just as lost as I was, Jimin scratched the back of his neck and looked down. 
“My, uh, my mom offered you her couch if you want it,” He stuttered, his face turning red. “Or, uh, um, you can take the spare room at my place,” He let out a huge gust of wind. “It’s a bit of a drive but I do have the space.”
Flustered, I quickly declined, “Thanks but I’ll be fine here.”
“Oh, yeah,” Jimin shook his head, the redness spreading down his neck. “For sure. Totally.”
The air was awkward now and I could not figure out how to fix it. Jimin was the one always breaking the ice between us, and now that he was acting like this I was stranded at sea. Even when he warned me he was more reserved in person I had not expected this. He was so quiet and skittish. How was I supposed to work with him if I could not get the courage to speak?
“Thanks for the offer,” I cleared my throat. “Are you staying for dinner?”
He shook his head, “I promised Jungkook we’d go out tonight. Any other time I’d say yes.”
I asked my disappointment. The thought of spending time with Violet and Calvin alone made me deeply uncomfortable. Their house felt like a hospital room and her weird behavior was unsettling. I could only hope Calvin was nicer but from what Jimin said he was a ticking time bomb. It would be nice to have someone act as a buffer.
“Why was she acting so strangely?” I asked, hoping Jimin had picked up on it as well. “It was like a totally different person.”
He frowned, “I think she’s just on edge since Calvin went to the doctor’s today. Their daughter took him, and she hasn’t heard anything. She’s a sweet woman, don’t worry.”
Now I felt like an asshole.
“That’s understandable,” I murmured. “Do you think she’ll be upset if I order food for all of us? If she’s stressed out, I don’t want her feeling like she has to cook for me.”
Jimin smiled, “She would appreciate it. I’ll go talk to her, how does that sound?”
I nodded, grateful. “That would be nice. The house gives me the creeps.”
That made him laugh, “What? Why?”
I shrugged, giggling with him. 
“Feels like a funeral home or something. I hate the minimalist aesthetic.”
Jimin bit his lip, “You’d probably hate my place, too, then.”
I chuckled. It was easy to imagine Jimin inside of a huge modern house, dark wood and barely anything in it. He was a single man, busy, and spent so much time at his parent’s house it did not matter what he had inside of his own place. Not wanting to make him self conscious, I bit my tongue. 
“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
He cocked his head to the side, and I laughed.
“Fine,” I conceded. “I would probably dislike it, but I don’t think it looks like a white padded cell.”
I may have been exaggerating a bit, but it was not that far off from how the Anderson home looked to me. I hoped by asking me to help fix up a few things, Violet meant giving the house a much-needed makeover. If I was lucky, I might be able to convince her to get a few throw pillows to break up the monotony.
“Jeez,” Jimin laughed. “Harsh critic.”
“Well, is it?” I joked, glad to have found our footing again.
“No,” He shook his head in thought. “It’s mostly gray and black, but still just as empty. Probably emptier, honestly. I don’t have as many pictures as Violet does.”
Smirking, he snapped his fingers, “My trophy room is pretty colorful. I have a lot of pictures and shit in there.”
That made me smile. I was not bringing any of my memorabilia here, but it was nice to hear him sound so proud of himself. I kept most of my competition stuff in my basement, a large China cabinet displaying all of my awards. My favorite had to be the small, cheaply made trophy sat at the very top. It was beside my Olympic medals, worn and dull beside the beautiful necklaces, but I loved it all the same. 
It was the first trophy I ever won. I was seven and my dad convinced me to sign up for a swimming competition my swim class was hosting. He promised to come. I practiced a lot preparing for it and made use of the new above ground pool my dad had bought. I won the race. My own joy and happiness made me forget that he never showed up until it was time to go home. I had to wait with my coach for two hours, and by the end of it she felt so bad for me she took me out for ice cream. Dad never apologized, I don’t even think he acknowledged that I won at all, and I never tried to bring it up again. Still, I loved that stupid thing. It was the reason I wanted to compete. That little pocket of happiness between winning and realizing that no one cared was precious to me and I held onto it. 
“I need to get going,” Jimin sighed, reaching into his back pocket and snapping me out of my thoughts. “Jungkook’s blowing up my phone. Just got broken up with and needs a drinking buddy.”
I sucked in air through my teeth, “Well, your services are needed. Don’t let me hold you up.”
Jimin smiled at me, “See you tomorrow, yeah?”
I nodded, “See you.”
He lingered in the entryway for a moment more before shaking out of whatever trance he had been in. Slipping his converse back on, Jimin waved at me before walking outside. His face was buried in his phone, so he never saw me wave back. He shut the door, the sound echoing in the empty house, and I was once again left alone.
Violet came out a few minutes later to discuss take out until we finally landed on pizza. She never said thank you, but her offer to give the tip since I was paying was more than enough. Then later when a few of my boxes came in early she happily carried them to me. She even helped me put everything away. When Calvin came home, she led me back inside and said with so much affection it made my heart melt.
"Calvin, this is Y/N. Sweetest woman I ever did meet. Bought us dinner."
Calvin reminded me of Namjoon in a way. His soft eyes and gentle voice. He took my hand when I introduced myself, his hands cold and soft. Wrinkles and sunspots went up the length of his arms.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," He said.
"Likewise," I replied.
We ate in silence, the three of us watching Jeopardy on the sofa. Even though I had been nervous about eating inside, Calvin's presence warmed the place up. Once a prison now felt like a poorly decorated home. A home filled with love.
As I watched them together, Calvin reaching out for Violet's hand and her giving it to him without question, I felt myself getting choked up. There had been a time I had that. Joon would be on the floor, book in his lap, while my hands were in his hair as I studied my training tapes.
I left early that night. I blew up the mattress, the house quiet, before sending out a few texts to my friends to let them know I was getting on alright. After that, I put on nature sounds to help me drift off to sleep. I had not felt this lonely in a very long time.
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Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio
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© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.
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lovebittenbyevans · 8 days
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Behind Closed Doors
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Summary: Being married for five years to Gojo Satoru is not all that it seems to be.
Pairing: Actor!Gojo Satoru x Wife!Female Reader
Warnings: angst, cursed words, fame au
Author note: Hello, Welcome to Life In The Spotlight AU Universe series. Enjoy reading this out of order chronological series. Comment, like and reblog.
– I don’t do taglist at all. If you want to keep up just click the notification
Being around the parties, rich celebrities was always a good time to be at. You got used to the fame of being Gojo's girlfriend at first then wife over the years. Everywhere you go with Gojo paparazzi always taking pictures of you two or sometimes a video.
His fans love him like crazy and you were not surprised what an amazing fanbase Gojo has. Even though some of his fans send you death threats every now and then. On social media you had to put your account private because everyday some fans leave nasty comments as well.
Although you were able to live your life the way you wanted while being with Gojo, you started to notice a change in him for the last few months. He was always working which was understandable but he would stop calling you and text you while he is at work on set being busy.
You would send him a lot of voicemail and text messages since he doesn’t answer your calls anymore. He would sometimes come home late drunk and out of his mind. Some days he doesn't bother to say hello to you or kiss you. The connection between you two was slipping away slowly.
You were over it.
You were tired.
You felt your feelings to be all over the place. You can tell he was not the same Gojo you fell in love with and wanted to marry. You can tell the spark between you two is always there but it feels like you two are drifting apart.
Sitting on the bed, you were still deciding whether to go to the Screen Actors Guild Awards this evening. You were so busy this morning being around your friends that you almost forgot about it.
Of course you wanted to show your support for your husband even though you already feel off. You sat there on the bed holding your dress when you heard his voice along with his footsteps. “Babe, are you almost ready?”
He stopped at the door when you glanced up at him. “Babe we are going to be–” You cut him off immediately. “I decided I don’t want to actually go, Gojo.”
Gojo eyes were on you. “What?” He never once heard you turn down any award show you wanted to go to with him.
Your eyes filled with tears as he entered the room. “What do you mean?”
You glanced at him and wiped your tears away swiftly. “This marriage and us, I can't do this anymore.” You continue to speak. “We don’t communicate anymore. It’s obvious you don’t answer my calls and texts. You come home drunk all the time. You are out everyday at some dinner and always at one of your friend’s parties.”
You had to let it out. You've been holding this in for so long that you didn’t know how to tell him. You love Gojo so much but sometimes you wish he was a different person and your marriage could be so much better.
He crosses his arms as his back touches against the wall. “Y/N, I may not be the fairy tale prince you wanted but I treated you good.”
You scoff and meet his gaze. “Fairy tale prince? I never told you I wanted that princess Cinderella bullshit!” Your voice started to get loud.
As he runs his fingers through his white hair, he sighs. “Y/N, don’t lie. You wanted that version with me during this whole marriage and I gave you that.” He knew you were going to not tell him the truth about what you really wanted in this marriage.
“What I wanted!? Wow.” Your voice got even louder. “Gojo, when we met and started seeing each other you were the sweetest guy. I wanted to be with. You were a romantic as well and it’s obvious all you wanted was my attention even after we got married.”
You can’t believe this bullshit. The Gojo you got was when you two first started dating and seeing each other. He hasn’t changed until after you have been married to him for five years.
He shakes his head while listening to you. “You started ignoring me once you went to Chicago for a few months to film that movie you were excited to be in.” Gojo just stood there looking at you. He can see the hurt on your face. He noticed he hasn’t been a good husband to you but he didn’t want to admit it to himself.
“That’s not–I always call you and text you when I am there.” He walked over to the bed and sat down next to you.
You shake your head and move away from him on the bed. “G, you just love lying huh?” For once you wanted him to be honest with you.
He said, pretending to act dumb. “What do you mean, Y/N?”
You scoff. “Don’t be stupid now. You come home drunk all the time. You barely touch me and kiss me anymore. It’s like you are allergic to me.”
“What? I don’t–” You interrupted him before he responded to you. “I AM YOUR WIFE! I am not some fucking random bitch you come home to every so often!”
Gojo's stunning eyes widened in surprise. He never saw you lose your temper like that with him ever. When you and him have a disagreement he always sees you stay calm and humble.
Your heart was racing. You were unable to think at all. You felt your head begin to pound, noticing a slight headache coming along as well.
“Honey I–” He paused when you got up off the bed taking a step straight to the closet. “I–I didn’t know you felt this way.” He mumbles.
You open the closet door and place the dress on a hanger. “How could you? You are too busy being Mr.Hollywood star getting drunk all the time and accompanying a few women.”
The loneliness was starting to creep up on you again. You have felt like this for the last two years and a half.
“Y/N, I would never cheat on you.” He said, honestly.
You placed the dress back in the closet and closed the door. “Well, it seems like your co-star Julia had other ideas for the blogs to know.”
Gojo was confused because he had no idea what you were talking about. He took his phone out of his pocket when he realized the time he had to be at the event.
“Huh? She wouldn’t–” He stopped talking when his phone was buzzing like crazy. He stared at the screen seeing notifications from his friends asking where he was. He clicked on his messages and ignored the ones above.
Gojo doesn’t always check his emails, text messages sometimes because he is a busy man. He kept scrolling and scrolling through his phone when he finally realized a bunch of headlines about him and his co-star Julia for the last few months.
Gojo Satoru spotted out with his co-star Julia at a restaurant
Gojo Satoru seen getting cozy with his co-star Julia on set of their new movie The Angel Above
Gojo Satoru seen drunk with some friends and his co-star Julia
“Where is his wife?” One comment on the article says.
How did he let this get too far?
How has he not seen all of these different headlines in a matter of months?
He turned his phone off as he met your gaze. “Honey, I am sorry.” You let out a fake chuckle while grabbing a pillow and a blanket off the bed. “Too late for sorry. I’ll be sleeping somewhere else when you get back.”
You walked out of the bedroom as Gojo quickly followed behind you. “Wait! Are you leaving me?” You opened the door to the guest room and turned around staring at him. “Have a good night G.”
The door slammed shut before Gojo could get a word out. He stared at the door feeling a tear roll down his cheeks. “Fuck!” Worried that his marriage would fail, he struck the wall with his hand as he went downstairs and out of the house.
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lani-heart · 25 days
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|| series masterlist || next // previously
parings -> ( eventually ) enhypen x reader genre -> soulmate au, fantasy au, angst warnings -> angst, self-harm word count -> 1.9k
abstract -> "If you treat him like a monster, he’ll turn out to be one"
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y/n's perspective
“Why did you help, Jake?” I heard and I saw Jay behind me. How did he find out?
“What?” I asked in hopes of clarity. “Heeseung told me you helped Jake with a human potion… did he force–” “He didn’t… he begged to understand how to feel human so I gave a potion to K to give to him and– he asked for help to be human and that it” I said now panicked and he sighed
“He went off to tell Jungwon, Sunoo, and Niki now,” he said and I sighed. “He asked me not to tell you guys… is… he okay?” I asked and he shook his head. 
“The potion is wearing off so he'll be better but he used his fire and burned his arms. They're treating him right now in our dorm so he doesn't get in trouble and neither do you” he said and I sighed. 
“I can help–” “Why are you asking to help? He hurt you,” he said and I smiled softly. “It's my magic, and besides he apologized and explained. He’s learning control… and he's also a neurotic vampire. It's why he's so hyper and why his emotions get the better of him” I said and only hugged me. 
“You’re too kind for your own good,” he said and I hugged him back. “I… really wanted to continue what I had with Sooha, but you still forgave that I was split,” he said and even tightened his grip.
“Just don’t let people exploit it,” he said and pulled away. I offered him a smile…
“Lets go help, he’s still your friend after all” 
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When I entered the dorm I could hear cries. 
“Ah! y/n!” I heard as I saw… Sooha. I’m glad he had her helping him. “Can you help, please he's in so much pain I don’t know what got to his head!” she pleaded and I nodded. 
I then freeze. 
“Uhm… Sooha, Jay can you leave the room?” I ask and they look at me confused. “I have to..” I trailed off while I brought a pinout. “Jake isn't good with control–” “I’ll be fine, I can take away his thirst while I'm here,” I said and he nodded and went outside the room I'm assuming only outside the door. 
“Go away” he cried while curling himself up in a ball. Sooha tried to bandage his arms. His shirt was off when I saw the burns even exceeded his shoulders. 
I pricked my finger letting the blood smear whilst his body shook. “I can’t do anything right,” he muttered. “Ja–” “Sooha just go away… please” he pleaded. He thought I was... 
“You don’t understand… What I did to those people hurt as much as what I felt, What I did to her was worse than what I feel” he cried out. 
“Jake,” I said and he turned his head slightly from the corner of the couch to see me. I felt my vision blur… just a bit. “Why… why are you here?” he asks and I sigh. 
“Well, I warned you not to use your powers,” I said and he only cried more. “I needed to know…  I-I’m sorry! I… why… why are you bleeding” he sat up when he saw my hand and shuffled away from me. 
“Jake, I'm gonna–” “No! Stay there,” he said when I tried getting closer. 
“I’m gonna do a spell… it’s gonna turn you back–” “I’ll hurt you again, just leave!” he yelled and I shook my head. “You won’t feel thirsty until I leave” I explained and he shook his head. 
“Jake. I forgive you, okay? So please trust me for now” I asked and he froze. I tried to get close when he started telling me the same thing. 
“Ah… Heeseung'' I said while looking at the door. Jake turned when I tackled him and got on top of him, catching him by surprise and doing my spell quickly. “You lied!” he said as I muttered my spell. He then winced when I saw his fangs were coming out. I cut my palm a bit to feed him my blood and did another spell so he wouldn’t turn me into a blood bag. 
“Are you crazy! I’m a vampire, I could kill you!” he yelled as he sat up again and gripped my shoulders. “But you don’t feel the bloodlust right?” I asked and he froze. “You’re insane… Why would you do that! And you lied about Heeseung there!” he whined, making me laugh. 
“But… Thank you for helping me. It doesn't help my emotions' ' he said, his pain is gone but not his guilt. “Jake, you can only do one thing to improve this, '' I said and he stared at me, eager to fix his mistakes.
“Live in fear to commit the same mistakes, Choose to live in bloodlust, or actually improve. To improve you need to accept being a vampire and your mistakes. You need to forgive yourself” I said and he couldn’t say a word. 
“What you did was stupid” I heard and this time it was Heeseung. “The blood spilled in your hand would have driven him–” “You need to give him more credit than that. If you treat him like a monster, he’ll turn out to be one” I said and he looked at me dumbfounded. 
“But it doesn’t mean he is. I get told how much of a freak I am by the humans… vampires, and hybrids because I use magic. It doesn’t make me one, though” I said and he stayed silent. 
“If you need help, my doors are open,” I said to Jake and I noticed a weird position. 
“Uhm! Sorry for this by the way” I said and ran for the door. 
“Blood!” I was now surrounded… this time by my mates and Sooha waiting outside the door. “Sooha, go inside,” Sunghoon said as he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her inside with him. “I… think I'm going too,” Niki said.
Left with three. “You’ve got a lot to explain,'' Sunoo said and I smiled nervously…
Where do I start?
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jake’s perspective
When she left, Heeseung said nothing. Instead of going to his room, I then noticed Sooha, Sunghoon, and Niki enter. She was still bleeding. 
“You did not drink her blood!” Sunghoon said and I shook my head. “No–” “You have her blood on your face!” Niki screeched and I shook my head. 
“She… I don't know! She did spells! She forced her blood into me!” I yelled defensively and they scoffed. They haven't marked her yet… let alone tasted her blood. 
“Just don’t do it again” Niki muttered as he left being a grumpy kid. 
“Jake, are you okay?” Sooha asks worriedly and I nod. “y/n… is too forgiving. She also helped me alot” I said and she smiled. “Maybe this will–” “Don’t mention this again Sooha” I said and she only offered a shy smile. 
“Are you okay, Hoon?” I ask, noticing his staring off like he usually does. “Mhhmm, Solon is… annoyed with you” he muttered as he didn’t stop staring at the floor. “Is it the blood?” I ask and he nods. “You do have her blood on your cheek,” Sooha said and I felt my eyes widen. 
“Uhm! I’m gonna go to my room!” 
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I cleaned my face while I was alone with my thoughts. 
Why’d she help me… defend me against Heeseung? After what I did? I would hate me, even wish the worst for me. Why was she so… kind? 
“You’re lucky, hyung!” I heard as I left my bathroom to see Jungwon and Sunoo. “Yah! Get off my bed! Your clothes are dirty–” “Why’d you wanna be human anyway?” Sunoo asked. 
The two used to be human… “I wanted to know how it felt,” I said and Jungwon sat up. “It's not fun,” he said and I nodded. “It isn't,” I agreed. “What you did to her wasn’t fair Jake. Just because she forgave you doesn't make it right” Jungwons scolded. 
“I know… I want better control. I need to get better” I said and he sighed. “That's a good first step,” Sunoo said and I nodded. 
“How come you two turned out so smart?” I asked them. And they chuckled, “Heeseung's sister says we must've been blessed with it,” Sunoo said.
“I swear you two seem to be her favorite, '' I said as I jumped on my bed in between the two. “Well… she’s not the best at hiding things. We know at some point we’ve met in another life,  but only Heeseung knows” Jungwon said and I chuckled. 
“Do you think in another life, we knew each other?” I asked them and they laughed. 
“Of course hyung!” 
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I know I wasn’t allowed here. 
I knocked on the door and hoped Wonyoung wasn’t there. 
“Hello,” she said as she opened the door. “Oh thank goodness! Wonyoung isn't here right?” I asked and she laughed. “No, you're lucky. Are you feeling better?” y/n asked and I nodded. 
“I wanted to ask if you wanted to join me for breakfast?” I asked and she smiled. “Why not?” she said as she went back in to get her bag. 
“Where's my mates?” she asked. “Asleep, Jungwon and Sunoo slept over in my room. Niki also joined so they are still asleep in my room. Heeseung is nowhere to be seen, Jay… I think in Home-Ec, and Sunghoon in his jealousy arc” I said and she laughed.
“What?” she said while laughing. 
“Your blood was on me… and well drinking your mate’s blood is an intimate thing,” I said and I noticed her cheeks redden. “Also I’m sorry about your hand,” I said while I saw her bandaged hand. 
“It's nothing I'm not used to,” she said and I smiled. 
“I wish we had time to get breakfast outside the campus but, it'd be impossible without skipping homeroom,” I said and she chuckled. “I don’t mind skipping,” she said, shocking me. 
“You're supposed to be the number one! The top student! President of Bright Sun student council, who are you!?” I said dramatically, making her laugh more. “I was gonna skip, I was just gonna use the excuse of stuco” she said and I stopped.
“Let's go then!” 
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We made it to the city where not many students were since class was gonna start. 
“Your mates are gonna freak out,” I said and she chuckled. “They skip more than me,” she said and I knew that was probably true. 
“Ooh! I need you to try this! It's a witch's place, but you can come in with me!” she said excitedly as we went into a breakfast place. 
“This just looks like human food,” I said while looking at the menu. “It has magic in it! It's really cool!” she said excitedly that it made me just stop and stare. 
“Jake? Are you okay?” she asked and I nodded. 
“I’m jealous that they get to have a chance with you,” I said but I didn’t mean to say it out loud. She smiled softly. “Well, you did reject me,” she said jokingly. 
“I know and I'm an idiot–” “Jake! Do you want to be my mate?” she asked, throwing me off guard. She giggled since I must've looked like an idiot. 
“Yes! I… I wanna be your mate” I said and she smiled. “Ah! I’ll even pay–" "I won’t argue,” she said and I laughed. 
“Thank you, y/n”
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taglist -> @sunus-sun @loumin908 @on-1ce @shinkenprincess-oh @b-a-nshee-blog @bnnyniky @sakuxxi @chiiiiiiiiis @cncreams @pre1ttyies @justanunstablefrog @graythecoffeebean @starzniiky @singlepringle4you @chirokookie @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @imtoanonymousforyou @lovgfrd @ilovecheese09 @sousydive @pink-but-rosie @kyleebob @jihyosgf @in-somnias-world @jilxxasu @bee-the-loser @mitchikeli @cyberpunksunwoo @lhspeachie @loafsunshinesworld @vixensss @zhenya109 @luumiinaa @rosas-in-the-garden @b3tt7boop @moony-mari @vixialuvs @ilovecheese09 @capri-cuntz @emma2black @skzhoes
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please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3
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153 notes · View notes
grxmreaperx · 7 months
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Professor Hoffman Pt. 2
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Pairing: Mark Hoffman x reader
Word count: 2k
Warnings: 18+!! Smut! Dirty talk, cockwarming, p in v penetration, age gap (everyone is over 18!), mentions of spanking and oral (f! receiving)
Summary: You’ve grown accustomed to your weekly tutoring sessions with your favorite professor, but even if you are doing better in the class, Professor Hoffman believes you need a lesson in focusing.
read part 1 here!
here is the highly requested part 2 to my professor hoffman au! hope you guys like this one, i included a cockwarming kink since i wasn't super happy with how the last fic with that kink turned out. let me know what you guys think <3
“Now, someone tell me what you thought of the interrogation I just showed you.”
The deep voice of your professor drug you out of your daydreams. Your gaze fell onto the man at the front of the room, his hands pushed deep in his pockets as he waited for an answer. It was an understatement to say you had been distracted in that course, even more than you had been before your “meeting.” Your mind wandered even more than it did before, except now it wandered to memories of your so-called tutoring sessions.
He did help you with course work during your session, but not in a conventional way. He would reward you for completed assignments and an understanding of the concepts, typically involving his head buried between your thighs. And for any wrong answers you gave, you received punishments, walking out after your session with handprints on your ass.
“How about you, Miss,” he said, staring straight at you. “What did you think of the interrogation?”
He smirked. He knew where your mind had been, he knew what you thought about during his class and it sure as hell wasn’t the video you were supposed to be watching. He watched you intently, tilting his head slightly, waiting to hear your response.
“Well, the suspect’s body language was very interesting. He was closed off and held his arms around himself for comfort, hinting that he may be guilty, or at least very uncomfortable with the subject.”
He nodded. “Very good observation.”
You decided to press your luck, wanting to get back at him for picking on you. “I have another observation too, if you’d like to hear it, Professor.”
He furrowed his brows slightly. “Go on.”
“Well, in the interrogation, you didn’t exactly try and build rapport with the suspect, which probably would have been ideal in this case. You were quite aggressive, Professor.”
You hardly registered the turning heads, other students’ eyes widening as they listened. Professor Hoffman was known in the criminal justice department as a hardass, not taking any disrespect from faculty and students alike. You knew your classmates were shocked; no one else would dare talk to him that way.
You watched his jaw clench slightly, looking down as he tried to compose himself. Trying to stop himself from dragging you back to his office right then.
He looked back up at you. “I don’t believe I asked for your thoughts on my behavior in the interrogation.”
“No, but you did ask what I thought of the interrogation. And I thought you were a little too aggressive.”
He sucked in a breath. “I suppose I did. How about you see me after class and we can talk a little more in depth about your thoughts, hm?”
You tried to keep the smile off of your face. “Yes, Professor.”
You heard whispers around the lecture hall, heard the disbelief that someone had spoken to Professor Hardass that way.
Your friend turned to you, a look of shock glued to their face. “What the fuck was that?”
You shrugged. “What? I was simply sharing what I thought.”
They let out a small laugh. “You’re fuckin’ crazy. You must have a death wish.”
“Something like that.”
--
Later that day, you made your way through the now familiar hallways leading to Hoffman’s office. You tried to keep your pace steady, trying not to appear too excited in case anyone saw you. You knew what you were in for, you couldn’t get the look on his face when you had talked back to him out of your head.
You knocked softly as you stood in the open doorway, attempting to look as innocent as possible. “Hi, Professor. You wanted to see me?”
He set down his pen, leaning back in his chair as his eyes took you in. “Sit.”
You closed the door behind you, setting yourself down in the chair facing him. You took him in: the neat hair that was slightly tousled after a long day, his shirt sleeves rolled up above his elbows, his tie loosened around his neck.
“Do you think you’re clever, sweetheart?” he asked in a low voice.
“I do, actually.”
He chuckled. “Of course you do. How clever do you think you’ll feel when you can’t walk out of this office, hmm?”
You squeezed your legs together, trying to stop the blush from rising in your cheeks.
“What’s the matter, baby?” he asked mockingly. “Not so clever now?”
You tried to think of something to say, some sarcastic remark to wipe that look off of his face.
“Did you bring your book with you like I told you to?” he asked.
You nodded.
“Good girl. Get it out and get over here.”
You pulled the criminology textbook out of your bag before making your way around his desk. You set yourself down on his lap, laying the book out on his desk. His hand snaked around your waist, fingers drawing small circles around your hipbone.
“I think we should try something different today, what do you think sweetheart?”
You looked at him. “Something different?”
“Well, it’s obvious what we’ve been doing hasn’t been working. You’re still not paying attention in my class. And now you’re talking back to me. It’s time we try something different to teach you.”
You shifted slightly on his lap. “What are you thinking?”
He smirked, gently grabbing your hand and moving it to palm him through his dress pants. “I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do baby,” he started as you felt him harden against your hand. “You need more focus, don’t you? So, you’re gonna open that book and explain to me every concept in the reading for tomorrow. And you’re gonna keep my cock warm while you do it. We’ll see how well you focus then.”
Your eyes widened at his words, feeling a spark between your legs.
“How does that sound, sweetheart? You gonna strip for me, or you just gonna sit there and stare at me all day?”
You quickly stood, discarding your clothing as he undid his belt. You made your way back over to him, facing his desk as he guided your hips. Your mouth fell open as you sunk down onto his cock, not stopping until you were fully sitting on his lap. He wrapped an arm around your waist, placing teasing kisses along the back of your neck.
“Go on, baby. You better get started.”
You opened the textbook, staring blankly at the words on the page. You tried to focus on the words, tried to take in any information you could as your eyes scanned the page. You gripped the arm of the chair, forcing yourself to focus on anything other than the feeling of him inside you. He held you still, not allowing you to move.
“You gonna tell me about what you’re reading, or are we going to have to stay like this all day?”
You tried to clear your head, tried to focus on the words in front of you instead of the ache between your legs.
“The strain theory,” you began, before he shifted underneath you. You froze, letting out a small sound at the movement. “That’s not fair,” you cried.
“What’s not fair, baby doll?” he asked, placing a kiss on your shoulder. “Go on.”
“The strain theory says that…” you sucked in a breath as he ran a hand over your thigh. “That people turn to a life of crime if they can’t reach their goals.”
He thrusted up into you slightly. “Good girl. That’s right. Keep going, baby.”
Your nails dug into the soft leather of the chair, trying to keep the little bit of composure you had left. You tried to roll your hips slightly, to get some sort of relief, before a hand wrapped around your throat.
“I wouldn’t do that, sweetheart. Do what you’re told, or I won’t let you cum.”
You let out a small whine, eyes fixing back on the book in front of you, quickly trying to absorb enough information to please him.
He ran a hand over your stomach, pressing gently just below your belly button.
You let out a soft gasp, even more aware of the feeling of him inside you. “You’re such a bastard,” you breathed.
He chuckled. “You still think you’re clever, baby?”
You tried to ignore him, quickly reading the next page. “Self-control theory says that crime is caused by…” you let out a breath as he ran his lips down your neck. “By people looking for instant gratification.”
“Good girl,” he praised. “Do you think you’ve learned how to focus?”
You could tell his restraint was failing: his breath was growing shallower, his hips shifting in his seat. You decided to test your luck once again, rolling your hips against his. You felt his forehead press against your back, a small groan leaving his lips, and this time he didn’t stop you.
“Yes, sir,” you moaned, and he let himself go. He quickly stood, pressing your front down onto his desk, hand wrapping in your hair.
“So good for me, aren’t you sweetheart?” he said, beginning to thrust into you. You could’ve sobbed from the feeling, the feeling you had been yearning for. You wrapped your fingers around the edge of his desk, trying to keep yourself steady. You let out a loud moan as he set a quick pace, your punishment tormenting him as much as it did you.
His hands roamed down your back, settling on your hips. He gripped them tightly, pulling you back to meet each of his thrusts. The sound of your whimpers filled the room, legs beginning to shake. You were so sensitive from your punishment you could already feel yourself getting closer to the edge.
He grabbed your leg, hooking a hand under your thigh, and lifting it onto the desk. You cried out as he pressed deeper into you, filling you to the brim.
“You gonna be a good girl and cum for me, baby?” he groaned.
You nodded frantically against the wood, a chorus of “yes’s” falling from your lips. He speed up his pace, hands gripping you so hard you knew you’d have bruises. You felt you body shake as you reached your high, holding the edge of the desk tightly to keep yourself grounded.
You felt his forehead press against your back as his pace faltered, one hand coming to rest next to your head as he reached his own climax, spilling inside of you.
He slowly pulled away, helping you up off of the desk and setting you on the edge. He grabbed your clothes off of the floor, handing them to you before zipping his pants back up.
You noticed the textbook on his desk as you began to dress. You had hardly even registered it underneath you, but some of the pages were torn, the paper covered in sweat.
You gave your professor a look, gesturing to your ruined textbook. “You better buy me a new one of those, that shit is expensive.”
He chuckled, fixing his shirt. “Yes, yes, I’ll buy you a new one. I see where your priorities are.”
You smiled at him. “Listen, that’s a lot of money you just ruined right there. And if you want me to be able to focus in your class, I’m gonna need a new one of those.”
He shook his head, smiling. He grabbed your chin, pulling you closer as his lips met yours. The kiss was surprisingly soft, his hand moving to rest on your cheek.
“Have I told you lately that you’re my favorite student?” he asked, pulling away just enough to rest his forehead on yours.
You laughed. “You’re my favorite professor.”
tag list: @bee-who-isnt-french, @enigmatic-blues, @kujofam, @aliengutzstuff, @mysunfishpeedinmyroom, @slut4hoffman, @schrodingersjigsaw, @hoffmansnightmare, @karmaswitch, @mrs-hotforhoffman, @returntodustsblog, @capan-deveraux2, @switchbabeeexo, @librababe99, @honimello
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ecoamerica · 1 month
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youtube
Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc
The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!
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newtkive · 3 months
Text
pixels [newt x reader - modern text au]
ch. 4 - agoraphobia and burger king on 5th street
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summary: a personal experience provides a way for newt to connect to y/n.
warnings: strong language, mental health talk, depression, medication (its my literal prescription i mention oops this is like a self insert fr), mutual pining, none really.
➥ m.list
--
THE GLADE
[ 10:52 am ]
y/n: it’s official yall
drugs saved my life
tommy: huh??
minho: same
newt: wow, i’ve never seen your name on my screen before 12 pm
y/n: shut the hell up bitch
newt: ouch, touchy
minho: woah
touchy 👀
are yallll..?
y/n: you’re sick
tommy: are we going to ignore the drugs statement??
like hello are u ok ??
newt: you’re annoying minho
minho: yea <3 😊
notice how they didn’t say no
y/n: you guys just don’t understand how a girl like me needs beauty sleep..
and no we aren’t
gally: all that beauty sleep and ur still walking around with that mug.. yikes.
y/n: 😑
i hate you i haete you i dhateoyifu
minho: great she’s having a fit
y/n: no one cares about me
and you think i’m ugly
this is so sick
and you don’t even care that i’m on drugs
☹️😭😭😭😭 done.
newt: no one said that love
gally that was rude
minho: BRUHHHHH
here she goes
tommy: I CAREE????????
DO I NEED TO COMEGET YOU????
y/n: yes 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
before i do something crazy 😭😭💣
minho: THE BOMB IS WILD
tommy: stay where you are
i have your location
newt: uhhh
y/n: pause what
minho: tommy why would you admit to that
tommy: im On my way! what’s the issue
sorry autocorrect
y/n: WHY DO YOU HAVE MY LOCATION????
gally: can you guys shut the fuck up
minho: the drama queen is here 😍
gally: stop
alby: I have it on Life360, I imagine Thomas does as well. In fact I have all of your locations.
y/n: oh
i forgot about that app..
minho: i didn’t. i get a notif that newt’s phone is at 5% all the goddamn time
even tho he said he deleted it
newt: just turn it off then
i redownloaded it don't track my app intake
minho: no it makes me feel less lonely
y/n: awwwww
idk how you do that newt
newt: do what?
y/n: not charge your phone
if my phone gets below like 15% then the monsters will get me
tommy: omg me tooo 🥹
newt: i was about to say you sound like tommy.
tommy: don’t say that!
she’s on drugs i don’t want to sound like an addict 😔
newt: she isn’t on drugs thomas
tommy: she literally said she is newt :/
5 mins and i’m there y/n
y/n: are you actually fr
thomas..
we live very far away sweetie
newt: i mean
if you were in trouble you don’t think we’d come get you?
tommy: ^^
but life360 says you’re at the burger king on 5th
minho: no that’s me LOOOL
y/n: NEWTTT ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️
tommy: wtf
i’m the one who’s coming to get u
why does he get the credit
minho: no tommy you’re coming to get me
tommy: oh yippee i get to see my friend 🤗
newt: ewwwwww
y/n: EWWWWW
tommy: OH STOP IT
y/n: why burger king of all places min
minho: why drugs of all things y/n
gally: she’s not doing drugs are you guys fuckin insane
y/n: yes i am
it’s 10 mg of fluoxetine 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
ONCE A DAY!!!!!!
IM ADDICTED
newt: no you aren’t, 10 mg is the smallest dose
minho: told y’all she was on drugs
y/n: ???????
minho: over the year
you’re too hyper to not be on some crack shit
tommy: oh stop that’s not nice.
newt: it’s not drugs like that minho stop.
tommy: uhoh he brought out the . at the end
y/n: it’s just for anxiety cuz i can’t leave the house without going into a breakdown
minho: she got acrophobia
told y’all she was mental
newt: what the fuck are you talking about
tommy: oh i know that word
fear of spiders 🕷️
minho: wtf no
fear of outside
y/n: i’m not afraid of outside
newt: that’s agoraphobia you fucking dumbass
y/n: 😍
i did NOT mean to send that lol oops
newt: ??
oh, okay
minho: when he’s a know it all 😍
when she’s agoraphobic 😍
y/n: when he’s at burger king on 5th because he has no food in his fridge and can only afford a $1.99 whopper with the coupons from the newspaper 😍😍😍😍
minho: 😒😑
newt: LMFAOOOO
GOOD THAT
minho: british people be so annoying
saying shit like gormless minger and good that be sooo real rn
newt: i have never said gormless minger in my whole 26 years of life.
y/n: you just did bro
newt: call me bro again
y/n: bro
brosive
brother
stepbro
minho: laughed until i saw the last msg :/
newt: 😑
y/n: ok youre the perverts
minho: cant you take your prozac and turn back to normal now
y/n: so you DO know what it is..
gally: wym 'back to normal' like there was smth before this??
y/n: real i been like this for life
tommy: i got whopper and two large fries and mozzarella sticks
newt: wow
y/n: wow just call him a fatass newt.
newt: i would never, stop
y/n: 2 large fries is kinda crazy tho
tommy: i have to get enough to share with my friend
minho
gally: surprised you have friends
tommy: yeah you are not one.
gally: RUDE?
y/n: WELL LMFAO
minho: i literally already ate also gally ur not my friend either
newt: same
alby: same
gally: well why tf am i in here
y/n: well you're my friend!
gally: great.
y/n: not with that attitude..
tommy: y/n you're ok though right??
y/n: yes tommy im fine sweetie
go eat your food
tommy: okay i wish you could share these fries with me
y/n: me too :(
minho: i don't
big back would eat em all
y/n: i actually hate you
__
newt
[ 11:45 am ]
newt: hey
y/n: hiii :D whats up??
newt: idk why but this feels like secretly texting you across the room at a party
y/n: actually tho
picture me giving u a look from across the room
newt: you would blow our cover immediately
i just wanted to let you know if you needed any like,, advice or something with your new medicine i'm here for you. i take the same stuff on top of lexapro
y/n: oh really?
newt: yeah i do
y/n: newt :( thank you
i am a bit nervous to start it tbh
newt: i understand, i was too
but hopefully it'll change things for the better
y/n: i hope so
i didn't realize you dealt with anxiety n stuff
newt: more than you know
you aren't the only one and you aren't alone w it
y/n: you're sweet newt, thank you
newt: don't mention it :))
sorry the smiley was creepy
y/n: lmao no i like it
if you need to talk or anything too i’m always here
newt: yeah?
y/n: of course ): you’re my pookie
newt: one day you gotta let go of that word lmao
y/n: but you love it tho
newt: you tell yourself that
actually are you free rn?
y/n: yeah! i’m just about home what’s up?
newt: i’m bored so pick up the phone
y/n: NEWT LMAO
ok fine 😒
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hawkflame999 · 27 days
Text
A few incorrect quotes from my Secrecy AU.
So you all asked for Incorrect quotes, huh? well here they are! —----------------------------------------------------- Cole: LLOYD! Get out of your true form RIGHT NOW! You could get seen!
Lloyd: Ugh, fine it’s not like we’re in the deepest, darkest, most shadowy corner in a city of all time, so I'll go back to pretending to be fully human….
Kai: Lloyd Montgomery Garmadon Spinjitzu-
Lloyd: *Sighs and shifts to human form* There. Happy? Wu: Lloyd, you have to be careful, especially in the city. 
Lloyd: Yes, uncle!
The other five: ........
—-----------------------------------------------------
Wu: Okay, I want you all to be very honest, and I want you to know I'm not very angry, so tell the truth.
Everyone: Wu:
Wu: Cole….Jay….Kai….And Zane.
Cole: What!?!?! Why are we getting blamed for this?
Wu: Well, you’re the ones who taught Lloyd the basics… at least that’s what you said you were doing.
All four: uh….. Wu:
Wu: When I said you could teach Lloyd how to drive, I didn't mean you could teach him how to drift.
—-----------------------------------------------------
Lloyd: You couldn’t sleep guys either?
Cole: Yup, us too, little buddy.
Kai and Nya: Uh huh.
Zane: It appears so. 
Jay: What Zane said. 
Wu, walking in: WHY ARE ALL SIX OF YOU AWAKE AT 3AM?
—-----------------------------------------------------
Lloyd: Uncle, can you tell me about how my dad was when he was younger? Wu: Well, as children me and your father would play hide and seek. 
Lloyd: And?
Wu: And whenever Garmadon found me he’d pretend to be a child-eating monster and chase me around.
—-----------------------------------------------------
Skylor, holding on for dear life: Do any of you even have car licenses??? Zane, Kai, Cole, Jay, Nya, and Lloyd in perfect unison: NOPE!
Skylor: THEN WHY ARE WE HIJACKING A FREAKING PLANE?!?!?!?!
Jay: Just because we don’t have licenses doesn’t mean we don’t know how!
—-----------------------------------------------------
Jay: Soooo who’s gonna say it?
Kid!Lloyd: Say what?
Kai: You had a nightmare.
Lloyd: No I didn’t!
Zane: Explain why you woke up screaming, then. 
Lloyd:
Nya: Exactly.
Lloyd: *groans* This is why I hate being the youngest, your siblings always see through you at the worst of times!
Kai: Calm down buddy, now what was the nightmare about?
Lloyd: I’m not saying.
Cole: You sure? Come on, tell us!
Lloyd: Make me.
Jay: *smirking* Oh, really?Or do you want a visit from the tickle monster?
Lloyd: *Nervous* Okay, okay! I’ll tell you!
Nya: Good. 
—-----------------------------------------------------
Lloyd: Uncle Wu! How did you find us?
Wu: I saw an explosion and recalled something about ‘Jumping Yōkai Hunters’.
—-----------------------------------------------------
Zane, looking under the bed with a flashlight: Lloyd, are you ready to come out and interact with people?
Kid!Lloyd, under bed: *growls* HISSSSSSSS! Zane: understandable, have a nice day.
Jay: 
Jay: At this rate, he’l never come out from under there. It been two days. Cole: should i jst pull him out? Kai: yeah, he hasn't been eating.
—-----------------------------------------------------
Lloyd: I can't believe we're doing this.
Kai: Look on the bright side, at least this time we're not crashing a vehicle into Sensei's tea shop.
Cole: Yeah, this time we're just evading the police while riding stolen motorcycles.
Nya: Oh, joy.
—-----------------------------------------------------
Jay: So, who's up for a game of hide and seek?
Lloyd: Not it!
Cole: Not it!
Kai: Not it!
Jay: ...Seriously?
Nya: It's okay, i'll be it.
—-----------------------------------------------------
Cole: So, who's up for a game of hide and seek in the dark?
Kai: Uh, Cole, we're already hiding from society. I think we've mastered that game. Cole: Lloyd: Nya:
Skylor:
Cole: So are we playing? Jay: Heck yeah.
—-----------------------------------------------------
Misako: Why do I always get dragged into your crazy plans?
Jay: Because you're one of only our friends with a driver's license.
Misako: I regret ever getting that license.
—-----------------------------------------------------
Kai: We need to get to the middle of the city, but we can’t without the police seeing us!
Jay: Hang on, lemme cause a blackout!
—-----------------------------------------------------
Zane: Ok, we need to get to the other side of the cliff……. ICE SLIDE!
Nya: I'll help make it slippery, too!
—-----------------------------------------------------
Zane, Kai, Cole, Jay, Nya, and Lloyd: Are we in trouble?
Wu: take a guess.
Kai: No?
Wu:
Wu: take another guess.
—-----------------------------------------------------
Sensei Garmadon: Lloyd, back when our uncle was younger, he’d sneak off when me and your grandfather weren’t looking and get into a lot of trouble. Sometimes I joined him.
Lloyd: really?
Sensei Garmadon: Yes, and it started up with the other Elementals too. And I see that your generation has inherited it, especially you.
—-----------------------------------------------------
Cole: Well if the way out of this is the sewers…
Zane: Come on, we can see in the dark!
Jay: What I'm worried about is the POLICE ARE TRYING TO SEND US TO AN ORPHANAGE BECAUSE THEY THINK WE’RE A BUNCH OF ORPHAN STREET KIDS.
Nya: That isn’t too far from the truth, though.
—-----------------------------------------------------
Cole: How did we end up on top of a moving train again?
Zane: It seemed like the quickest way to get to the other side of the city without being seen.
Kai: Plus, it's a great view from up here!
—-----------------------------------------------------
Lloyd: Okay, we need a plan. Who's got one?
Jay: raises hand
Kai: Jay, your last plan involved us getting stuck in a tree for three hours.
Jay: But we got away, didn't we?
—-----------------------------------------------------
Lloyd: Why do I always have to be the distraction?
Cole: Because you're the youngest and most innocent-looking.
—-----------------------------------------------------
Lloyd: Why do we always end up in these crazy situations?
Cole: Because we're the ninja, Lloyd. It's practically in the job description.If being a ninja has a job description….
Kai: Yeah, but I don't remember "evading the police while riding a stolen rickshaw" being listed anywhere.
—-----------------------------------------------------
That's it for now :D Part One of This AU
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anincompletelist · 3 months
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happy sunday! :D
THANK YOU ALWAYS FRIENDS @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @iboatedhere @itsmaybitheway @sophie1973 @junebugclaremontdiaz @bigassbowlingballhead @getmehighonmagic @magicandarchery @captainjunglegym @onthewaytosomewhere @sunnysideprince @sparklepocalypse <33333333333333 YALL SHARED SO MANY DELICIOUS WORDS TODAY!
ok this is so much more than seven sentences but I'm not sorry because I really like this one ksjhdksjhdkh
from cha cha real smooth au --
+
“No. I’m not giving up on you guys,” Alex insists. “It’s okay to have something that you want, just because you want it. I—” 
Henry rounds on him, blue eyes blazing and chin tipped up with a finger pointed toward his chest. “And who told you you were what I wanted?” 
The air in the suite feels stale, empty, Donovan’s suit jacket draped over the chair, his watch on the dresser, his robe on the back of the bathroom door. Not a single thing in here is Henry’s, and Alex isn’t sure how to prove it to him, to make him understand that he deserves to exist. 
“I love you.” 
His hand crumbles back down to his side as he chokes. “Alex—” 
“And I’m not expecting you to say it back but I just wanted you to know that somebody out there loves you without asking for anything in return. If you’re going to kick me out of your life then at least let me say that.” 
“You can’t— you can’t—” Henry stumbles backward, nearly tripping over the settee and steadying himself with one hand on the edge of the bed, the other on the center of his chest. “You can’t say that. I can’t know that, Alex. What could you possibly be thinking—” 
“Why? What’s so crazy about that?” 
“Because,” Henry sputters. “Because you can’t just decide that you love someone. That isn’t how it works.”  
“Yes, you can.” 
“No, you can’t.” 
“Why not?” 
“Because I haven’t done anything to bloody earn it, Alex!” he yells. “Can’t you see that? I don’t deserve it.” 
“Love isn’t something you earn, Henry. It’s something you give. It’s something you choose to give.” 
Henry’s jaw works from one side to the other, his lashes fluttering, weighed down with glassy tears that Alex knows he won’t let overflow. 
“Well, I don’t want it,” Henry mutters shakily. “Give it to someone else, then.” 
“I know you don’t know how to accept it—” 
“I don’t deserve it.” 
“—but it’s yours, Henry. I’m not giving it to anyone else. It’s yours whether you want it or not because this is my choice,” he whispers. He doesn’t bother trying to hide his trembling lip, even as he stands firm in front of him. “You’ve made yours. This is mine.” 
+
no pressure, I hope you're all doing well! @firenati0n @myheartalivewrites @nocoastposts @wordsofhoneydew @eusuntgratie @myheartalivewrites @duchessdepolignaca03 @anchoredarchangel @affectionatelyrs @read-and-write- @happiness-of-the-pursuit @cricketnationrise @ships-to-sail @rmd-writes @tinyarmedtrex @gay-flyboys @firstsprinces @priincebutt @theprinceandagcd and as always an open tag for anyone else who'd like to share!!!!!
xx
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filthygalli · 6 months
Text
Mortal Kombat 11 Johnny Cage AU: ‘’Someone Older” PART 2
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Warnings: Dbf!Johnny Cage, Dilf!Johnny Cage, Age gap ( Reader is 29, Johnny is 56 because that’s canon??) SoftDom!Johnny Cage, sub!Reader, usage of Y/N, a little Angst, Reader has an IUD, Fluff, some swearings, All warnings apply to the whole fic.
Let me know if I missed anything!
Author's Note: Here's the PART 2! This fic is a little short…I'm gonna try and be active:( but my school work comes first, so expect late updates!
PART 1
Previously:
“You're still as beautiful as the day I left you, baby.” you chuckled, “So are you, Johnny.” he leaned in, an inch away from your lips, “You know what else i miss, hmm?” “I don’t know, Mind if you enlighten me?” johnny chuckled, “If you say so Princess,” with that, he kissed you deeply than you could ever imagined, You moaned, and immediately grabbed his neck and pushed him more into you, He lift you up and sat you on the edge of the kitchen counter, “Let’s be quick before your Daddy comes home, how’s that sound?”
.・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭
Johnny kissed you while he circles your clit, feeling the wet spot on your panties “Fuck, baby, already wet for me?” he groans, “Can't wait to fuck you-” you cut him off by kissing him, biting his bottom lip, he whince, “Getting a little wild now aren't we Y/N?” “I missed you, don't ever leave me ever again, please..” tears forming in the corner of your eyes, “Oh baby,” Johnny says as he wiped the sides of your eyes, “I won't, I'll stay I promise, we'll be together again, I love you.” “I love you too, johnny.” You sigh, “That's a good girl.” He said as he pulled your shorts down leaving you with only underwear on, “Look at that, never get tired of seeing this view.” He said as she teasingly pulled down your panties as he put the panties in his pocket for safe keeping, “Hey! I like those-” you said as he grins, “I'll buy you a whole set-” he said as she teased your entrance, “Johnny please- I need you, I can't wait anymore..” Johnny chuckled, “Patience, Y/N.” Johnny said in a teasing tone as he puts one finger deep inside your cunt, “oh fuck- Johnny-” the feeling of his thick fingers inside of you is making you crazy.
You've missed Johnny, It's been a while since you and him got to do this, he may not be your boyfriend or whatever but you liked him. You two agreed that it's only for pleasure, for lust, and no feelings involved. Johnny is different to all of the guys that you've met and been with, sure he's old but hey, they say that old guys have more experience and they were right.
“God Y/N, You're soaking wet-” Johnny groans, “Please Johnny I need more please-” You begged, “You're still a brat I see…” Johnny Chuckled as he unbutton his jeans, “C’mon kneel, Seems like I haven't fucked that pretty face of yours.” He said lifting you down to kneel In Front of him looking up at him begging for something that you want, “Don't look at me like that Y/N,” he's leaning back down to you, cupping your face with one hand, “If you really want my cock inside that pretty pussy of yours, you gotta earn it, Understand?” He said, still cupping your face waiting for your answer, You nodded, “Is that the right way of saying ‘Yes’ to me Y/N?” He said palming his Already rock hard cock, “I'm sorry Johnny, I'll do anything you want I promise, I'll be your good little cum slut again, please-” you begged so hard as you look up at him, Johnny chuckled, “Good girl, Now open” he said gesturing you to open your mouth to take his cock.
You gave his cock some kitten licks to the tip and the base, earning a groan to Johnny, “Fuck, Princess- Y/N” You continued to tease him as he had enough and puts his cock inside your mouth harshly, Gagging by the size of him you tried to relax as you take him deeply, “That's right-Fuck-Y/N,” he thrust in slow motion, savoring the sensation of your mouth.
You tried to touch yourself, “Don't even think about it, Baby, I told you, you gotta earn it before you have it.” you moaned while you choked on his cock, he thrust again, deeply this time. “Fuck- Y/N-” he growls and he guides your head all the way down, you gagged on his cock, tears forming, He stopped fucking your mouth to give you some time to breath, “You did so good for me Princess, so good.” He cupped your face as he kissed your forehead. “Come up and bend over, can't wait any longer-” he growls in your ear as he stands you up and bent you over, he spits in his hand and uses it as a lube for his cock, “Johnny please…” “I know baby” with that he puts his cock inside your wet folds with a groan, “fuuuuck- Y/N- You're so- ah- tight” he thrust all the way in, “Johnny- shit ah- it's too deep!” You tried to adjust with his size, “I'm sorry-” he starts his pace slow as he saw you adjusting to his size again, he fucks you faster and faster sending you over the edge, “fuck! Johnny- too much please!” “I'm sorry Y/N I need you i- fuck-” he apologize for being rough because of missing the wetness of your folds, he fucks you as you feel a knot in your stomach, making you feel close to your climax.
You heard the door open as you and Johnny's eyes went wide as he quickly helped you gather your pants, “fuck-” he kept your underwear as he zipped your paths and his, “shit-”, johnny fixed your hair and your look, “you gotta look beautiful and presentable,” he chuckled as he kissed your lips and smacked your ass, “I love you, Y/N. So much.” He said cupping your face looking in your eyes deeply, “I love you too, Johnny, so much-” you said as you pulled away from him going back to wash the dishes.
“Y/N, I've been gone for almost an hour-” your dad said as he chuckled, setting the things he bought from the grocery.
.・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭
Hello! Thank you for supporting my fic, I wasn't expecting that people would like my work! Even though I'm busy and not active I'm happy that there's people who read and support my fic, I love y'all so much!🖤
TAG LIST:
@kumquats-are-gay
@channiesprincess
@mynameislynnie
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holylulusworld · 9 months
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When we were kids
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Summary: It’s his turn to wait.
Pairing: AU!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, past Fratboy!Bucky Barnes x Student!Reader
Characters: Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff
Warnings: angst, language, unrequited feelings, best friends to enemies, jealousy, hopeful ending
A/N: This sequel got inspired by another song from Walking on Cars “When We Were Kids”. Lyrics in Italics taken from the song.
A/N: So, I decided to give this story a sequel. It's necessary to read the first part to understand the story.
<< Part 1 - Waiting on the corner
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Yeah, it was better back when we were kids  Thought we knew everything, we really did  Had no money but so rich  Nobody cared about what we did  Another fight and another kiss  But now it's water under the bridge
Bucky watches you walk away from him with your head held high. You don’t turn around, even though, it takes anything in you to not give in and look over your shoulder.
It took you years to get to this point. Years of yearning, crying, and wailing with pain. The pain Bucky caused because some girl he barely knew, and didn’t even love, was more important.
His shoulders sag, and he sighs deeply. What did he expect to happen? Did he honestly believe you’d forgive him so easily after you left town because of him? 
He thinks of better times. Times in which you looked up at him like he was your whole world.  
But I still call out for you Yeah, I still call out for you
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Ten years ago, months before Bucky met Dot, …
“Doll, it’s spaghetti Friday,” Bucky mutters as you run through the living room, a bunch of noodles in your hands. He’s chasing after you, calling your name.
You giggle and speed up when he gets closer. Dashing toward the middle of the room you almost run Steve over. 
“Whoa, watch out, Y/N,” Steve jumps out of your way. “What has gotten into you two!” He yells as Bucky throws a handful of spaghetti your way only to hit Steve right in the face. The pasta drops on his shirt, and he sighs. “What the fuck, Buck!”
“We are having spaghetti Friday,” Bucky says, expecting Steve to understand what he means. The blonde frowns. Bucky and you always come up with crazy new rituals and Steve can’t keep up with all the shit the two of you pull all the time. “Y/N started a fight! She wanted to have farfalle, Steve. Farfalle for spaghetti Friday. That’s a sacrilege, my friend.”
“They look pretty on a plate, Buck. I wanted my plate to look pretty, and they were cheap,” you pout. “Why not try something new?” 
“I want spaghetti. They look manly.” Bucky says, making you snort as he defends the spaghetti. 
“Yeah. Because they remind you of your dick,” you sass back. With your hands on your hips, you give Bucky the stinky eyes. “You wanna eat dick.”
He chuckles, but his heart flutters as you step closer to put the spaghetti in his hands. “My dick is much thicker, doll. I can prove it.”
“Just tell this to yourself, Buck,” you gently pat his cheek. He hums and drops his eyes to your lips. If only he found the guts to finally tell you how he feels about you. “Now, Steve will decide which noodles we’ll eat. You hit him with pasta after all.”
“Keep me out of your crazy fights,” Steve grunts. He looks down at his brand-new shirt, decorated with spaghetti. I got a hot date, and you just ruined my shirt. Now I gotta change before I pick her up.”
“Sharon again?” You turn your attention toward Steve, making Bucky pout. “So, are you in love Steven Grant Rogers? Is she the one? Can you imagine marrying her?”
Steve’s cheeks turn pink. He clears his throat and tries to not give away he has a huge crush on Sharon. Maybe it’s even more than a crush this time. 
“Wrap it before you tap it, Stevie.” You groan at Bucky’s words. “Do you need condoms? I got a whole drawer full of…”
You snap your head toward Bucky to glare at him. “We got it Bucky. You have a lot of condoms because you fuck every girl with a pulse. Stop dragging Steve into your shit. He’s a good guy. Sharon deserves a good guy. We all do.”
Bucky watches you sigh deeply because so far, you didn’t get lucky finding a good guy. And the one you could fall in love with asks every girl out but you. 
“Uh-first base,” Steve mumbles. “Sharon wants to take things slow. I’ll wait.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet of you,” you hug Steve. “I knew you’re a good guy.”
“HEY! I’m a good guy too,” Bucky grunts. He had hoped you’d see more in him than a promiscuous frat boy one day. Now he knows better. Maybe he should give in to Dot’s advances and go on a date with her…
Ooh, tell me what I'm gonna do now 'Cause I feel a little lost without you I'm a little bit lost without you Hear me, hear me out Tell me what I'm gonna do now Because I realize now I need you I'd do anything now to see you
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Now, …
Hear me, hear me I still call out for you Yeah, I still call out for you
Bucky walks back into the gymnasium, avoiding everyone but Natasha. He goes straight to her to ask her if she knows where you went to.
“Nat, hey. Do you know Y/N’s hotel?” He asks, hoping to see you again tonight. “Natasha?”
Natasha is tangled in Clint’s arms. She dips her head to glance at Bucky, frowning deeply. “How shall I know? She said something about leaving to clear her mind. I think she left.”
“Where to?” Bucky groans. “I need to know.”
“Ask Wanda, they talked before Y/N left. I was kinda busy with…”
Bucky rolls his eyes. “I got that you were busy sucking the life out of Barton’s tongue.” He looks around the room to find Wanda. 
“Who asked you?” Natasha mutters. “Get out of my sight.”
Another consequence, another day And now I'm caught up in a rat race Yeah, no money, just got picked You take me back to when I was free You take me back to a memory To the water under the bridge
Walking around the room Bucky despairs. Wanda is nowhere to be found, you are gone, and Natasha was no help. 
What did you say? You want to meet him at your special place. “But when?” He asks himself. “I can’t wait there for hours…”
“Here,” Wanda appears out of nowhere. She hands Bucky a piece of paper. “Y/N told me to give you this.” She sizes Bucky up. “If you hurt her, I’ll castrate you. Don’t believe for one moment I won’t find you, Barnes.”
He takes the piece of paper, feeling his heart speed up once again. Just like it did the moment he laid eyes on you tonight.
Bucky leaves Wanda, and the party behind. He almost runs out of the building and toward his parked car to read your message to him in silence.
After unlocking the car, he jumps into the driver’s seat and unfolds the letter.
“Our special place. Tomorrow. At eight.”
“At eight…” he furrows his brows. “In the morning or evening.” Bucky groans because he’s got no clue if you want to have breakfast or dinner with him. “Doll…you always have been bad with time.”
Ooh, tell me what I'm gonna do now 'Cause I feel a little lost without you I'm a little bit lost without you Hear me, hear me out Tell me what I'm gonna do now Because I realize now I need you I'd do anything now to see you Hear me, hear me
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Almost ten years ago, months before he met Dot, …
“Christ on a cracker, Y/N!” Bucky throws his hands up as you finally walk inside the apartment you share with your grumpy roommate. “Where have you been all day?”
“What?” You didn’t even make it inside the living room before Bucky started to look you all over. “Hey. What’s wrong with you?”
“Yesterday you said that you’ll be back at ten!” He argues and points at the watch on the wall. “It’s fucking ten p.m., Y/N!”
“Yeah, I know. I told you that I’ll be back at that time!”
“You said ten and I believed you mean in the morning,” Bucky releases a shuddery breath. “I was about to call the cops, doll! Never scare me like that again.”
“Oh-I forgot to write a.m. again,” you giggle, but your laughter dies when you watch Bucky. “I’m sorry for worrying you, Buck. I thought you knew I meant ten p.m.”
“I did not and was worried sick! Plus, you forgot your damn phone again! If you leave the apartment, tell me where you are going and when you will be back. And use a.m. and p.m. from now on!”
“Buck,” you wrap Bucky in a hug. “Love you too big grump.” He grins when you hold him tightly. “How can I make things up to you?”
“I’ll decide which movie we will watch tonight.” You’re tired and want to sleep for a week, but Bucky was worried about you. You will stay awake as long as possible and watch a movie with him.
“Deal.”
Half an hour later you are asleep in Bucky’s lap. He runs his hand over your hair, gently patting your head. “Never scare me like that again, doll…”
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Now, Bucky’s car…
“Fine. I’ll be there at eight a.m., doll, and wait for you…”
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The next morning, your special place, …
I still call out for you  Oh, I still call out for you  Hear me, hear me  I still call out for you  'Cause I feel a little lost without you  I'm a little bit lost without you  Hear me, hear me It was better back when we were kids
 No money, so rich Take me back to a memory  To the water under the bridge
Bucky shuffles from one foot to the other. He came here, on time. It’s past ten a.m., and you still haven’t shown up. “Fuck…maybe I got it wrong, and she wanted me to meet her at eight p.m.?”
He gets the piece of paper back out, rereading the few lines you wrote. 
Bucky sighs. What if he didn’t get it wrong? What if you won’t show?
“Still waiting, huh?” Steve steps out of his hideout to tease his friend. “Do you think she will show?”
“What are you doing here?” Bucky panics. Last time you were in his shoes and Steve showed up to tell you Bucky won’t come to meet up with you. 
“Uh-getting me some coffee,” Steve lies. He and Sharon wanted to find out if you will give his best friend a second chance. The first thing Bucky did was to call Steve and tell him what happened.
“She won’t show, I guess.” Bucky sits down on the sidewalk. He looks at his hands, sighing deeply. “I deserve this, right? I fucked up big time back then. I should’ve told Y/N that I love her. I didn’t even like Dot. She was the worst.”
“How much did you love her?” Steve asks. “Bucky, be honest with me.”
“So much that I forgot to eat and couldn’t sleep when she went on a date. I panicked any time she was running late. One time she was holding my hand while we were watching a slasher movie. I imagined this is how it feels when walk down the aisle together.”
“Hmmm…” you sit down next to Bucky, nodding at Steve as he looks down at you and his friend. “I bet you did dirty things in the showers too, imagining it’s me rubbing your spaghetti dick.”
“Stop with the spaghetti dick! I told you it’s thicker,” Bucky argues. “And farfalle don't count as pasta. It’s…too pretty.”
“That’s the whole point,” you talk back. “They look pretty, and you eat them to feel pretty inside too.”
Bucky snorts at that. “You’re late…like two hours late. Do you even know how to read a watch?”
You shrug. “I thought you should wait a little longer. I waited for much longer, only for you to not show. Now you will buy me breakfast and tea. They still make the best in town. So, I heard.”
Bucky slowly gets up, holding out his hand for you.
He doesn’t know where you go from here. But you showed, and he will be damned if he doesn’t take the chance and tries to win your heart over again…
I still call out for you Oh, I still call out for you Hear me, hear me I still call out for you 'Cause I'm a little bit lost without you I'm a little bit lost without you Hear me, hear me
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mingtinysworld · 3 months
Text
Copycat
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Pairing: Choi San x Jung Wooyoung
Genre: idol au, established relationship, smut
Word Count: 1.8k
Summary: While San is on a live with fans, he comes across fanfiction and wants to share it with his ever the obedient boyfriend Wooyoung.
Warnings: MDNI mxm, anal, fingering, degradation, nipple play, handjob, lil bit of spanking, San dom (he tries)
A/n - when I heard that San came across fanfiction, I lost it. And then I had this brilliant idea😃 so yeah I hope you enjoy. It’s also my first time writing mxm and it’s HARD (hehe) but yeah please like, comment, and reblog! Love youuuu - J<3
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It had been a while since San had gone live. Atinys had been begging for a San live forever. He’d been so busy with all his schedules, he didn’t have any time.
Finally, after a tiring performance, he decided he could go live. He settled in bed, all cozy with his dark blue silk pajamas. Already having taken off his makeup, he opts for the voice only option. He figures that’s good enough, and presses start.
“Hi everyone! Sorry that it’s voice only today, I just took my makeup off! But I’m super excited to spend time with you today. Ask any questions you’d like!”
The chat rolled by quickly as usual, most comments being confessions of love that flatter yet overwhelm him. He continues talking about his long day and responding to random comments here and there. One comment catches his eyes and he scrolls back to find it.
“‘How many times do I search up my name?’ Hmm that’s a good question. I’d say not too much, just once in a while. You know what, I should search up my name now, why not.”
They can hear San’s speedy typing, and wait with anticipation. San lets out a little ‘aha’ and starts listing off things relating to his name. “Alright let’s see. San mama, San bouncy, San crazy form, San fanfiction, San…wait what?” He takes a few seconds to read. “What does that mean?”
The chat goes ballistic. The comments go by at the speed of lightning, begging San to ignore it. San gets flustered at all the comments. “What do you mean don’t search it? Why not? Is it a bad thing?”
Curiosity gets the best of San and he types in “San fanfiction”. The chat is still screaming at him to stop. He clicks on the first link, directing him to a website. As he scrolls, a title catches his eye.
“Woosan fight club.”
That intrigues him, and he starts reading. The fans hear silence on his end, and continue freaking out. As San goes past the first paragraph, he can feel an erection forming and tries so hard to keep it together. Realizing he needs to get back to the live, he clears his throat, trying hard to sound normal.
“Ahhh so that’s what it is,” he says quietly. “You guys sure know how to have fun.” He forces out a chuckle. Desperately needing to leave, he sticks around for a bit more in order to not seem suspicious.
Finally after the most torturous ten minutes, he says goodnight to Atinys and ends the live. Letting out a groan of frustration, he palms himself through his pants, needing friction. As his hips raise to meet his hand, he realizes he needs more. He stands up from his bed abruptly, leaving the dorm. Not even bothering to throw on a shirt, he runs down the stairs in a rush.
Coming up to the door, he knocks urgently, disregarding the neighbors. The door opens and there stands a disheveled looking Wooyoung.
“S-san? What are you doing here?” He asks in a confused tone. He glances at the clock. “It’s 12:30.” San pushes past him into the living room. Looking around for traces of Hongjoong or Jongho, he turns back to Wooyoung.
“Where are the others?” He asks him. Wooyoung still looking confused answers. “They’re both asleep, but San I still don’t understand why-”
Wooyoung’s words are cut off as San smashes his lips against his, Wooyoung stumbling backwards. He lets out muffled gasps, while San sinks his teeth into his lower lip. In between loud smacks, Wooyoung manages to get out a few words.
“San what the hell are you doing?” Even through the confusion, he kisses San like his life depends on it. He only gets shushed in return, getting no answer, but that doesn’t matter too much when he’s being devoured by the love of his life. San starts to lead Wooyoung towards his room, not once letting go.
“I have something to show you,” San says breathlessly. He pulls out his phone from his pocket and scrolls through dozens of Ateez fan fiction.
“Choose from any of these and I will do whatever it says in it.” San can’t even contain his excitement.
Wooyoung starts protesting. “What in the…” he trails off as he sees the content. He swallows tightly and turns to look at San who is in the process of taking his pants off.
“Oh god, ok ok, I’ll choose this one.” He stops on a Woosan one, how ironic.
San lets out a wicked grin. “Alright baby, your wish is my command.” He pushes Wooyoung down once again, with more intensity. Trailing his mouth up his collarbones, leaving sloppy, wet kisses upon his exposed skin. As he nears his ear, he lets out a sensual whisper.
“One condition though. You read to me what’s happening and I’ll do it.”
Wooyoung tries not to show his eagerness but fails, letting out an excited giggle. It’s pretty much a dream come true for the pervert that he is.
San assists Wooyoung in taking off his pants, moving on to his shirt next. He hands him the phone with the filthy smut, clammy hands reaching out in a grabbing motion.
He gives San a cheeky grin while shuffling his hips closer to the edge of the bed. San groans at the feel of their skin on each other. “Ok baby, get to reading now.”
A throaty moan leaves Wooyoung‘s mouth as San grabs the base of his cock. His body convulses from the sudden attack, and he drops the phone onto his stomach. San continues sliding his hand up and down his shaft, stimulating Wooyoung in a way that has him thrashing around.
Pressing his thumb onto the slit, Wooyoung tenses and lets out a whine.
“What did I say about reading? Get to it.”
Wooyoung shivers at San’s commanding tone. He tries to get it together and firmly grasps the phone in his hands.
“San ran his hands all over Wooyoung’s torso, brushing past his sensitive nipples, sending a shiver through his lithe body.”
And San does just that. He splays out a hand on his chest, running his nails up and down. He pinches his nipple, having no mercy whatsoever. Pinching, twisting, pulling. He was simultaneously still pumping his leaking, desperate cock.
Wooyoung feels like he’s going insane, he needs a release. Yelping out slightly, he holds onto San’s hand.
“San, oh my god please I can’t-” San speeds up his actions, shoving two fingers into Wooyoung’s mouth to shut him up.
Wooyoung comes with a muffled moan, hips bucking up, searching for more friction and also stinging from overstimulation.
Even though San is feeling devilish, he still has enough mercy to let Wooyoung relax from his intense orgasm.
His chest is heaving up and down, eyes closed and hand gripping the sheets. After a few more deep breaths, Wooyoung comes to a realization that he only got one sentence out of the fanfiction. Fearfully, he peeks out at San, expecting an angry face ready to punish him. However, a soft smile graces his face.
“Baby, I know I wanted you to read the story, but I can’t handle your attention not being fully on me.”
Wooyoung lets out a breathy laugh at that. Oh San. He’s always trying to pretend that he’s so in charge, but he can’t help being needy and selfishly wanting attention.
He throws the phone away gladly, and pushes San down against him in a passionate kiss. Wooyoung attacks with his tongue, fighting for dominance. San is however having none of that.
He flips up Wooyoung onto his knees, and pushes his head into the pillow.
“Do not move,” San growls out.
Sliding off the bed, he reaches for the lube in their nightstand. Twisting it open, he lets a glob fall from onto Wooyoung’s awaiting hole. As the cold liquid drips down, he clenches around nothing. Smearing it around, he shoves in a finger with no warning.
Wooyoung lets out the most pathetic whine known to mankind, moving his hips side to side. San smacks his hand down onto his ass, leaving a faint red hand mark.
“Maybe if I fuck you open with my fingers you’ll learn how to shut up huh? What do you think?”
He adds a second finger, having no pity. To his delight, Wooyoung is too out of it to get out any words. All he can hear is muffled moans and sobs.
He decides he’s opened up enough and pulls his fingers out with a pop. Wooyoung’s greedy hole twitches, missing being full.
San pumps his own cock a few times, getting himself ready to fuck the life out of his boyfriend. He lines himself up and slowly pushes in. Of course he loves being mean, but he doesn’t want to genuinely hurt Wooyoung. As soon as Wooyoung is filled to the brim, San starts thrusting shallowly.
With each thrust, Wooyoung’s face gets squished into the pillow more and more. He lets out a scream.
“San!!”
“Oh now the dirty whore found his words. You’re enjoying this a bit too much aren’t you.”
He lets down a few more smacks, resulting in Wooyoung moaning loudly, almost howling.
San keeps pounding into Wooyoung, gripping his skin so tightly that it leaves crescent nail marks. He grits his teeth, putting everything he’s got into this. The sound of the headboard banging against the wall completely escapes him, not even caring about the neighbors at the moment. He’ll deal with it later.
“Fuck fuck fuck San.” Wooyoung just babbles absently, so fucked out he can’t think of anything else to say.
As San’s hips drill into Wooyoung harder, he nears his climax. Wanting to make Wooyoung come again, he reaches around him, gripping his leaking cock. Wooyoung cries out at the extra stimulation and his knees almost give out.
San thrusts for a few more seconds, and he comes with a loud groan, right into Wooyoung’s ass. As he pulls out, his cum drips out, leaving a trail of the dirty deed.
Wooyoung collapses onto the bed, without having San holding him up. He feels like he could just fall asleep he’s so tired. He feels San leave the bed and he lets out a low whine at his absence.
San comes back with a warm, wet towel. Gently cleaning up Wooyoung, he leaves soft, fluttery kisses along his back. Wooyoung lets out steady breaths, finally being able to relax from the torture (fun).
San climbs into bed with him, cuddling him close. Wooyoung reaches out a hand to caress San’s soft face.
“I love you so much San.” He whispers. San closes his eyes and gives him a peck on his hand.
“I love you even more baby.”
As they both settle down to sleep, he hears a vibration on the nightstand. He turns to grab his phone, and sees a message from Hongjoong.
“Why don’t you be a little louder you bastards. Fuck you, I want to sleep”
San stifles his laughter and turns back around with no guilt whatsoever.
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somebluemelodies · 2 months
Text
SPIDERBIT WEEK hosted by @smallchaoscryptid !! day six: coffee | nautical IM FINALLY BACK !! i know mer au won my poll from a while back so this is kinda a double whammy? spiderbit week AND poll fic :D
For a while, Roier wonders if he’s ever gonna see the deepsea mer ever again. When he doesn’t see him the night after their initial meeting, he’s worried that the Feds may have gotten to the mer after all, and it pains him more than he cares to admit aloud.
But it’s not the last time. In fact, it happens multiple times, to the point where they have a weird schedule of sorts to meet every third day or so.
Communicating isn’t the easiest, with only Roier able to actually talk, but they make do, and he’s getting a real good hold of asking ‘yes or no’ questions or anything else that permits him to learn more about the deepsea mer.
Except for one thing. The mer’s name.
The mer can understand nearly everything Roier says, but he can’t write it. He can only write in his own strange mer-tongue, which is a series of characters that sends the pirate into a deeper confusion the more he tries to make sense of it.
For a little while, Roier contemplates giving the merman a name himself, but that feels a little unfair to the mer. He has a name, after all.
However, his mouth running faster than his mind produces a nickname, gatinho, as a result of staring at the mer for a little too long and getting lost in his eyes. Thankfully, though, the mer doesn’t seem to mind it, and Roier even swears it makes the creature blush. But that sounds like crazy talk, so he tries not to dwell on it.
Nevertheless, the nickname stays. If only because it’s… well… the truth.
(Mostly. He’s a mer, not a cat. Scales and no legs, not fur and four legs.)
(But God, if he isn’t the prettiest being Roier has ever seen.)
A couple weeks or so after their first initial meeting, Roier is sitting on the flattest rock closest to the water, the mer half out of the water in front of him with his arms resting on the rock. A routine, of sorts. Either here, or the cave.
“So, gatinho,” the pirate starts. “I need to figure out your name. We have to find some way. Because I can’t keep calling you gatinho forever.”
(But he’d certainly like to.)
The deepsea mer tilts his head slightly and shrugs, as if to say, “I don’t see anything wrong with that.”
“What? You like the name, huh?”
A pause, followed by a slow nod. Roier grins. “No mames, wey, this guy likes being called pretty. Like a cat. Are you sure you’re not a cat? I think you’re a cat in disguise.”
The mer looks borderline offended, trying to reach over and slap him. But the pirate pushes back, out of reach, smile growing with a laugh. “You’re swatting like a cat! Holy shit, man, I was right. I’m friends with a fucking cat. A catfish. No mames.”
There’s a growl of sorts from the merman, who definitely looks like he’s blushing now - focus, focus, focus, stop looking at him like that - and shoots up out of the water before Roier has a chance to properly react.
Next thing he knows, he’s flat on his back against the rock, and there’s a solid weight on top of him, two almost-glowing blue eyes staring him down.
(A small part of Roier wonders if he should be afraid right now. He’s seen the sharp teeth and fingers. This mer could theoretically kill him in a heartbeat. Right here, right now.)
(But he’s not afraid, God only knows why. No, he’s… no, no. Enough.)
Roier tries to mask the way his cheeks are rapidly warming up with an accomplished, shit-eating laugh. “Calma, gatinho, calma.”
The deepsea mer huffs, shaking his head before a small smile crosses his face despite himself. He leans down to really shove Roier’s shoulder, but makes no effort yet to get off.
(Not that Roier minds.)
More laughter, and then a lull, and their eyes meet again. Roier becomes acutely aware of just how close they actually are. The mer is staring at him in a way he can’t quite decipher, and it makes him increasingly nervous.
(A look of wonder. Awe.)
(The mer sees the same exact look in those dark eyes.)
The pirate tries to play it off, like his heart isn’t about to beat out of his chest and like his thoughts aren’t circling around the fact that if he sits up enough, their lips could brush. Connect. “See something you like, gatinho?”
The mer also seems to finally realize their current position, and with wide eyes, pushes himself off and all but dives back into the water. Roier kicks himself in the ass for mourning the loss of contact.
For a few moments, as the merman doesn’t surface, he wonders if he’s fled for the night, and starts to feel a little guilty for his teasing.
But then there’s movement, and he watches the deepsea mer breach the surface again, blowing out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry, sorry. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable or anything.”
The mer shakes his head. It’s okay.
(He did see something he liked.)
"Roier!"
The pirate's head whips around, seeing a silhouette in the far distance.
"Oh, shit-- that's Jaiden. I gotta go." He turns back to the mer. "Three days? And I will learn your name, gatinho."
The deepsea mer nods, and three things happen in succession.
One. The mer leaves him a piece of sea glass, a red one.
Two. He hesitates, then hoists himself onto the rock to press a kiss to Roier's cheek.
Three. He dives back into the water without looking back, disappearing in a fleeting glint of deep emerald and leaving Roier to touch his cheek in surprise.
"Roier!" Jaiden calls again, running over to him. "There you are! What're you doing out here?"
Roier clears his throat, willing his cheeks to cool down despite the darkness surrounding them. His best friend was eerily observant sometimes. "I was just... collecting sea glass. See? Look at this piece I found!" He picks up the piece, standing up to show her.
Jaiden looks at it before back to him, her brow quirking ever-so-slightly. "O...kay? Since when do you do that?"
"It's given me something to do recently."
She studies him another moment, trying to decipher the truth. If she doesn't believe him, she doesn't say it. Instead, she says, "fair. But I came to bring you back to the ship, c'mon."
They walk in a comfortable silence for a bit, until she speaks up again. "Y'know, I haven't seen much sea glass around here. You must have some awfully good luck; I see the little pile on the box beside your hammock."
Roier opens his hand, looking at the translucent red treasure as icy eyes infiltrate his mind, the ghost of lips warming his cheek. "Sí. Something like that."
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teecupangel · 10 months
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It's me, the ratatouille AU anon again djjshd
The only thing that would make this even better is that Desmond hears US, the player, also. The amount of times I called him babygirl, or pretty little angel, or my special little boy. He'd be both horrified and flattered.
Also calling Juno a gnarly ghost lookin-ass bitch. I'm sorry Desmond, I know this is serious business but I can't look at her for longer than 5 seconds.
Hello, Ratatouille AU nonny! For those unfamiliar with it, here’s the post where Desmond’s ancestors can hear Desmond as he ‘controls’ them.
“Let me get this straight…” Shaun rubbed the bridge of his nose as he tried to understand the Bleeding Episode currently plaguing Desmond this time around, “You hear voices that’s not your ancestors or anyone they might have known. And you know they’re talking to you because…”
“They call me babygirl.” Desmond said calmly.
Too calmly.
Like the calm of a man who had given up all his sanity and has reached a zen state of craziness.
Rebecca furiously looked over all the documents they have about the Bleeding Effect that Lucy had given them.
Shit.
How accurate were these anyway considering Lucy’s true allegiance? 
These could all be fake or some of the important stuff could have been omitted like…
Desmond’s current situation.
“And… what do these voices tell you?” Shaun asked, curious enough to continue even though he could feel a migraine already coming.
“Uuuhh…” Desmond tilted his head slightly before saying, “Dad’s the worst father in these games and I should just beat the crap out of him… Juno’s a gnarly ghost and wants to enslave people after killing me… uuuhh…”
“Wait, wait, wait, what ‘games’?” Shaun asked.
“Oh.” Desmond blinked, looking like he actually just forgot to tell them that big bombshell, “We’re apparently game characters of this franchise called Assassin’s Creed and… uuuhh… I’m their bestest boi in the modern day setting.”
“Modern day setting…” Shaun repeated before asking, “Are you telling me that our entire existence is… fictional? We don’t exist? We’re just characters in this… video game franchise?”
“Oh crap.” Rebecca mumbled, realizing that Shaun was on the verge of an existential crisis. 
Fuck.
Of course the conspiracy theorist would latch on to that idea almost immediately!
“Shaun-”
“Pretty much.” Desmond shrugged before adding, “If it makes you feel any better, you and Rebecca are pretty much the only regulars of the modern day setting.”
“Oh, so our very existence have already been taken care of then? We’re just little puppets-” 
Rebecca sighed and ignored Shaun’s rant to ask Desmond, “So? Did these voices tell you anything at all on what’s going to happen after we save the world?” 
“Oh, yeah, about that…” Desmond turned to look at Rebecca as he said, “They told me to let the world burn… just to see how it goes and…”
“... as a treat.”
(Let’s be honest, guys, if we were given the ability to talk to Desmond, we’ll be such capricious ‘gods’.)
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fantasydaydreamers · 6 months
Note
Heey, how’s everything going? eating well? staying hydrated??
well… i’m not that creative when it comes to suggestions and i hope you’ll be able to understand
so, i was thinking maybe some headcanonns with Shinsou as a rockstar and he meets reader while in a tour, they get along pretty well, have some tastes in common (if you’re feeling like, some nsfw but that’s totally up to you!!)
it’s not very detailed so feel free to add whatever comes to mind! 💕💖
i love you and your writing, even if sometimes i don’t know how to interact, you’ll always have my support, thank you so much for your time, you’re amazing!! 🤧💖
it's been a stressful 2 weeks. hey? i wanna quit my job guys😟 AND STOP YOURE SUGGESTIONS ARE WONDERFUL!!! I LOVE SEEING MY DREAMERS INTERACT WITH ME AND YOU'RE ALWAYS SUPPORTING ME SO THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU TOO!!!!!!💕💕💕💕😭😭
Also, I wrote a Boyband Au! already if y'all haven't read it....check out my Boyband Bakugou!Au x Reader🤭🤭🤭
🔥🥀The Burning Rose🥀🔥
ANYWAYS. SHINSOU-
Warnings: Lemon
• I see him starting out in a band, NOT as a lead singer, but more as a lead guitarist who SOMETIMES has background vocals in a song. Or sings the bridge.
Oh...and the the fans go crazy for his voice. Smooth and deep...so whenever a new song comes out and he's not on it, let's just say the streams aren't very high. Does this annoy the actual lead singer? Yep. Is the rest of the band annoyed they don't get enough attention either? Absolutely.
• Quits and goes solo.
SORRY BUT HELLO? Shinsou already made a name for himself with the band and if people prefer his voice, oh...he'll give y'all what y'all want~
His first single tops the charts and the music video was just him sitting on a stool, strumming his guitar. The Internet went crazy and you might've came.
Anyways.
Finally a solo tour rolls around after his debut album and you scrambled for the meet and greet tickets and holy fuck.....
His voice? In PERSON?!
The smirk he had on his face while talking to you didn't help and you think you blacked out because soon enough you were waiting for the concert to begin.
• Sees you in the crowd and purposely meets your transfixed gaze when singing the sultry parts of his songs.
Would call a security guard to get you after the show and bring you backstage. Just for a tour hook up but....
• HIS FINGERS AREN'T JUST GOOD FOR PLAYING GUITAR-
He turns you into a singer by the end of the night the way his fingers curl in and out of you with his post concert voice, a low raspy rumble in your ear, bringing you to the edge over and over and over-
Knows he's good at dirty talking and is aware of voice kinks.
He talks you through it and won't continue until you answer his questions.
→ Shinsou: *is rolling his hips into you with a slow and deep rhythm* "Mm... how's that feel? You're clenching down real good for me...want it faster? Deeper? C'mon baby..."
Which started as a tour hook-up, turns into something more when Shinsou goes to the next city but can't stop thinking about your voice singing his name with whimpered cries and eyes rolling back into your head.
Hopefully he crosses paths with you soon. Or you might have a song written about you~
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jobean12-blog · 1 year
Text
Roomies
Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader (College AU)
Word Count: 2,302
Summary: You and Eddie are best friends and roommates (and underneath it all, so much more) but what happens when the tension between you finally breaks. 
Author’s Note: College Eddie has been stuck in my head forever! And I know how crazy final time can be and how much a good friend and roommate can help...especially if it’s Eddie haha. This takes place in the late 80s because duh Eddie’s alive and has graduated and gone to college! I’m hoping to revist these two more if I get inspo! I also want to wear all of Eddie’s flannels so he can take them off me...thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️The bat divider is by @wannabehamlet and the library divider is by @firefly-graphics thank you beauties! 🥰
Warnings: some angst over finals and exhaustion but Eddie makes it all better, fluff and flirting fun, tension and some sexiness. 
Eddie Munson Masterlist
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It’s already dinner time and you’re still not home. Last night you didn’t get home until after eight and you missed Eddie’s gig because you passed out from exhaustion. That hardly ever happens.
He sits on the couch, Metallica blasting through the radio on the shelf and his fingers mindlessly playing along on his guitar. His can’t stop his knee from constantly bouncing and he keeps missing notes.
“Shit, shit, shit,” he mutters in frustration. “Where the hell is she?”
Your black cat, Dio, pads over and rubs along his legs, purring loudly.
“Yea I know D…I think I’m gonna go look for her at the library,” Eddie tells the cat as he scratches behind its ears.
Eddie lays his guitar along the couch and turns off the radio. He grabs his leather jacket and shrugs it on before searching the cabinets for snacks. When he’s satisfied with what he finds he throws it all in a bag and runs out the door.
He makes one more stop at the coffee shop before rushing to the library.
The doors fly open with a bang and Eddie flinches, making a sheepish face at the guy behind the desk. He gently shuts the door and tip toes past the desk, clutching the bags tightly to his chest.
His eyes scan the tables but he doesn’t see you, his stomach dropping. He walks to the back of the library remembering you have a favorite table hidden in a corner by the reference section. When he rounds the shelves he sees you with your head down on a textbook and your pencil tapping against the table.
“Hey,” he whispers, hoping he doesn’t startle you.
You lift your head slowly and blink.
“Eddie?”
He smiles as he places the bags down and comes around to sit next to you.
“Hey sweetheart.”
You stare at him and your eyes begin to water.
“Babe…?”
You burst into tears, instantly covering your mouth to silence the noise. He grabs your chair and pulls it between his spread legs, wrapping his arms around you and cradling you against his chest.
He soothingly rubs your back, holding you close until your tears subside.
When you lift your face to his, your cheeks are tear streaked and your nose is sniffly.
“I think I got snot on you.”
He just throws his head back with a laugh.
“I don’t care…but are you ok?”
His smile fades as he studies you.
“I’m so tired!” you sigh. “I just can’t wait for finals to be over.”
He nods in understanding and gently releases you to drag the bags closer.
“I brought some sustenance,” he says with a smirk.
“Did you bring beer to the library again?” you ask with a giggle.
“Not this time,” he winks.
He takes out your coffee and a water, as well as some cookies, a granola bar, a push pop and fruit snacks.
“You’re my hero Eddie,” you squeal as you open the coffee and smell it.
His eyes light up and he gives your hand a squeeze.
“I’ll help you study for a bit if you want,” he offers.
“That would be great. I was getting lonely.”
He rips open the fruit snacks and pops one into his mouth. “So, let’s get to it. What are you workin’ on?”
“Chemistry.”
His eyes go wide and he dramatically falls back into his chair.
“THE WORST,” he whines.
“I know!”
“But for you…anything.”
You lean in and give him a big hug, burying your face in his neck and letting out a relieved exhale.
“Thank you,” you whisper.
He rests his head to yours. “Of course, sweetheart.”
You finish off the bag of fruit snacks and reach for the push pop, sticking your finger into the bottom so the lollipop shoots up. You push it between your lips and suck on the sugary candy while you work on a problem.
“You almost done with that?” Eddie whispers.
“Nah, I can’t seem to figure this one out,” you shrug, sticking the pop back into your mouth and sucking hard.
“No…I mean the push pop,” he says with a hard swallow.
“Well…,” you start and look it over, “I have a lot left. Do you want some?”
You hold it out and he stares at it then his eyes drift to you mouth as you lick your lips.
“Nuh uh, you finish it. You seem to be enjoying it.”
“Mm it’s so good!”  
He slips his hand under the table and discreetly adjusts himself in his pants, clearing his throat as he does so.
“You ok?” you ask him, noting his flushed face.
“Yep,” he answers, popping the p.
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You last another two hours but by 8pm you’re falling asleep on Eddie’s shoulder.
“I think it’s time to go home babe,” he laughs as he nudges your slumping form. “Let’s get you to bed.”
“Ok, yeah, good idea,” you mumble.
Eddie packs up your things and cleans off the table before helping you into your coat and zipping it up for you. He puts on your backpack so you don’t have to carry anything and grabs your hand.
“Come on,” he says as he gently tugs you through the library tables and toward the door.
He looks back with a smile, stopping short when he notices your sneaker is untied.
“Wait!” he says, holding up a finger.
He kneels down and shifts your foot closer to him, tying it tightly and tucking the laces behind the tongue of your shoe.
“There we go,” he says and pats your foot.
“Thanks,” you say quietly, taking his outstretched hand again. “What would I do without you?”
“Well...I dunno, trip over your own shoe laces, spend your nights sleeping in the library, fail all your exams...”
You open your mouth to give him a sassy retort but he keeps going, his smile wide. 
“AND starve to death for sure!” 
“It was a rhetorical question Eddie,” you huff playfully. “But...you’re probably right!” 
“I’m always right,” he snarks as he holds the door open for you. 
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You walk home in comfortable silence, Eddie’s hand holding tightly to yours as he swings your arms back and forth.
A cold wind blows and you shiver. He tugs you into his side and slides his arm over your shoulders.
“We’ll be home soon,” he tells you.
When you’re about two blocks away from your apartment you feel a drop of rain. Eddie doesn’t seem to notice so you don’t say anything and just keep walking but unfortunately several more drops start to fall as you continue on, the ground already dotted with wetness.
“Jesus Christ!” Eddie groans. “Hopefully it doesn’t get worse.”
He picks up the pace and keeps you securely tucked under his shoulder. The rain starts off light but within minutes it’s coming down harder and harder.
“It’s so cold!” you screech as you run along the sidewalk.
“I know!” Eddie yells as he starts to take off his jacket to hold over your heads.
“No way, you’ll freeze!” you retort, but he already has it off.
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Your feet slosh up every step to your apartment, the water running down in big drops and plopping onto the tiles.
“Don’t slip,” Eddie warns as the trudges next to you.
“I can’t believe we got caught in the rain,” you say shakily. “We’re soaked!”
He unlocks the door to your shared apartment and holds it open for you. You walk in and Dio immediately trots over to greet you but as the cat gets closer he slows down, realizing you’re dripping wet.
He dances around the drops and the growing puddle to poke his tiny whiskered nose around and inspect.
“I know D. We’re a mess,” you sigh.
“Let’s get dried off and changed. It’s too cold,” Eddie says.
You toe off your drenched shoes and try to pull off your socks but they’re so wet that you almost fall over.
“I got you,” Eddie whispers as he steadies you and then pulls off your socks.
“Thanks.”
You walk dejectedly to your bedroom and start to pull off your clothes, hanging them on your drying rack and searching for a towel. Once you’re dried off you realize you barely have any clean clothes, your overflowing laundry basket mocking you from the corner.
With a loud curse, you stomp your feet, your eyes burning with fresh tears that threaten to fall.
“Hey sweetheart, you ok in there?”
Eddie’s voice settles you and you walk closer to your door, opening it slightly to tell him, “All my comfy clothes are dirty. I didn’t have a chance to do laundry!”
He peeks his head through just enough to smile at you and holds up a finger.
“Be right back!”
He rushes off and shortly returns with his flannel and some dry socks.
“Is that enough? Most of my stuff is dirty too, but you can take my Hellfire shirt if you want. I can take it off.”
“This is perfect. Thanks Eddie.”
You shut the door and grab your last pair of clean panties, sliding them on and then throwing his flannel over your shoulders and buttoning it up. You can’t stop your inhale when his familiar scent envelopes you and you stick your nose in the collar to get more of it.
You find Eddie sitting on the couch with his sketchpad in hand and his pen scratching over the paper. His still damp hair curls close to his face and his tongue darts out to wet his lips as he concentrates. You pause in the doorway and stare, sucking your own lip between your teeth at the sight of him.
As if he feels your eyes he looks up and smiles.  
“What are you drawing?” you ask quickly as you move closer and peek over his shoulder.
He lifts his hands away and shows you his little cartoon vampire bat.
“He’s so cute Eddie!”
“Thanks,” he laughs, finishing off the doodle by adding some blood dripping off the fangs. “I’m thinking about a new tat.”
“OOOO WHERE?” you say excitedly as you round the couch and stand in front of him.
He looks up and his eyes widen as they sweep down your body. You’re in nothing but panties, his socks and his flannel and his mouth falls open.
“You don’t have to tell me…” you begin, feeling suddenly unsure.
“No!” he says loudly, followed by a softer, “no, that’s not it. Ummmm….”
He tries to form words but all he can do is stare.
“Eddie?” you ask.
“You missed a button,” he whispers, his eyes falling to the lopsided buttons of his flannel.
“I what…? OH!”
You look down and giggle. “I did!”
When your hands lift to the first button he grabs your wrists, standing with the motion and stepping closer to you. His eyes wander over your face and linger on your lips, his warm breath fanning across your cheek.
“I’ll fix it,” he murmurs.
“Ok,” you answer, your voice breathless.
He takes one more step to close any space left between you before he brings his hands to the first button, time moving torturously slow as he pulls it free of the material. He keeps his eyes on yours as he moves to the next one, your breathing growing shallower by the second.
Your body sways slightly toward his and your eyes lower to his hands. He opens the third button, enough of your bare skin exposed for him to know you have nothing else on.
“Fuck,” he mutters quietly, delicately parting the sides of the shirt with his fingers.
With his eyes trained on yours he slips his hand between the fabric and runs his knuckles along your skin, his rings ghosting along the same path and making you shiver.
“You sure you’re not still cold?” he hums.
“No. I’m fine. Warm actually, the socks really help.”
“Hmm.”
He’s barely listening to you at this point, his focus dropping to your mouth as his fingers grasp the last button and undo it.
His shirt hangs open at the sides as his fingers graze over your skin and move lower. His eyes squeeze shut when his fingertips glide over the silk of your panties and when he opens them again an unmistakable hunger flashes in their warm brown color.
His fingers press into your skin as he slides them along your waist, his free hand reaching up to caress your cheek. Your heart thunders in your chest and when he drags your body to his and you feel his hardness press into your stomach your breath stutters and you grab his biceps.
The hand at your cheek slowly smooths down your skin, skimming along your neck and tracing your collar bone until he meets your shoulder. He toys with the shirt, brushing his hand just under it before his fingers curl into the fabric and he slowly pushes it off.
His lashes lower and his eyes fall to your bare skin.
“This has to be a dream,” he whispers.
Your hands move up his arms and curl around his neck, your fingers combing through his hair to bring his face closer.
He dips his head, brushing his lips to yours in a whisper of a touch. Your fingers tug on his hair, silently urging him to kiss you. Instead, his lips move over yours with another teasing whisper and you whimper his name, your nails digging into his scalp.
It shatters whatever restraint he has left and he grabs the back of your neck, hauling you against his body as his mouth presses to yours. His groan of satisfaction rumbles through you and his hair tickles your skin as he parts your lips, sliding his tongue across yours until nothing else remains but the taste of him.
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@buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814 @ysmmsy @dreamlessinparis @nerdypinupcrystal @hiddles-rose @goldylions @seitmai
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