#We just never have 'relationship' issues so this is making me nauseous & I know it s the past trauma

[damndude69]

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[chimcess]

Waterlog || pjm (5)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 10.8k+ 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: ANGST, crying, mental health issues, talking about mental health, I'm so soft for them it's actually wild, angst, trauma, panic attacks, talks of panic attacks, talks of sex, k*ssing, I love them so much, jimin still the best boyfriend, small argument, insecurities, strong language, one bed trope, healthy relationship conversations, boundary setting, friends being friends, character has cancer, talks of character death (brief), dry humping, moaning, things are picking up A/N: I know I'm late again, but I have a lot of personal stuff going on in my life at the moment that had made writing challenging. First a breakup, then finding a new apartment, moving, and then waiting for my internet to get turned on. It's been hectic for me! But we are back. This was very lightly edited so I apologize in advance for any issues there might be. I will go through and edit this eventually, I just wanted to get it out for you guys!

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The drive to Jimin’s house was quick, the traffic not fully registering in my mind as I lost myself in thought. I had only ever been in love once before, and that had been a very different time in my life. I was no longer that same person, and the anxiety these new feelings were bringing up made me nauseous. I was not ready to say anything was certain, but I knew for a fact that I was falling hard and fast. 

The small suburb was nice with large homes. A few new modern builds stuck out like a sore thumb, but the area had still kept much of its original blue-American-suburban charm. Coming from Colorado, I was not used to seeing large front lawns or children’s toys left out after dark. Jimin was just ahead of me and I slowed down when his tail lights came on. 

The house was definitely brand new. I had never liked modern buildings, the architecture lacking the charm and personality I sought out when buying my own place in the Springs, but it suited the swimmer. It was difficult to make out much color, but I could tell it was mostly white with black accents on the front. Large windows took up a majority of the walls and a small balcony was above the front door. It was smaller than the other homes, but the yard was bigger than the rest, and a tall fence enclosed the back of the property. 

Taking a second to prepare myself for the rest of the night, I watched Jimin get out of Fiona and open up the two door garage at the front. He seemed to be in a rush, casting a few quick glances at my car as he paced back to the truck to pull it inside. I do not think he could see me looking back.

Picking up my phone, I called Hoseok.

“Everything okay?” He picked up, out of breath.

I smiled, “I’m okay. Promise.”

He had been extra worried about tonight. Out of everyone, Hoseok knew how huge this was for me. At one of our many late night parties I had told him that I could never love again, and that I never wanted to know that feeling again. If it wasn’t Namjoon then it could not be anybody. At the time he had reassured me, but as the years went on he had truly believed that I had completely closed off that part of my heart. To be so excited about someone had him cautious- even if he did poke fun at me most of the time.

“Why are you calling me then?” He asked.

“Just needed a bit of a pep talk,” I admitted, eyes still locked on Jimin’s truck. “I’m at his house. Feeling a little nervous.”

He hummed, “He seems like a good guy. Don’t think there’s anything you need to worry about. Just enjoy yourself.”

I sighed, watching the garage door close, knowing I would have to get out of the car soon. “I think I’m going insane.”

“Talk to me about it.”

Jimin stood by the garage door, looking at my car. I rolled the window down and waved, gestured to the phone, and managed a pathetic smile. He nodded, still watching me with a strange look on his face.

“I think I love him,” I mumbled, unable to look away from him.

Hoseok laughed, “You just figured that out? Baby, anyone with eyes and ears can see how you feel about the kid.”

“It’s been two seconds, Hobi. We barely know each other.”

“You don’t have to tell him anything,” My friend reasoned, voice nothing but friendly. “You’re all over the place right now, and you need to really think about how you feel. No one wants to hear someone ‘thinks’ they love them. Breathe. Relax. Enjoy yourself.”

As I steadied my breathing, I noticed Jimin’s face becoming concerned. He always knew when something was wrong, and it did not surprise me when he started walking across the front yard towards my car. 

“I have to go,” I choked out, panic bubbling in my chest with each step he took. “I don’t want him hearing us.”

“Otter-”

I hung up the phone and smoothed down my hair. My heart was running at a million miles an hour and my hands were shaking. I hated how worked up I got over nothing. Disgusted and discouraged, I forced a smile on my face and opened the car door. My phone vibrated, the sensation tickling my hand, but I chose to ignore it. Fake it till you make it, I told myself. The curve of Jimin’s mouth told me I was not fooling anyone.

“Everything okay?” He asked, coming to stand in front of me.

“Yeah,” I breathed, nodding frantically. In my panic, I did not see the curb and tripped. Jimin reached out to help steady me before I could fall. I shuttered. “Everything is fine. Hoseok just called to check in with me. Didn’t realize we were out together.”

The lie felt heavy on my tongue and Jimin’s eyebrows came together in confusion. He knew I was lying and it made the sinking in my gut all the more unbearable. Knowing I needed to get a grip, I stepped out of his arms and gestured to the house.

“Nice place,” I sounded like I had just run a marathon. “It’s very you.”

Jimin was quiet. Still trying to avoid talking about my odd behavior, I began rambling on and on about how much I liked the landscaping. The large bushes that surrounded the small front porch were a nice pop of color for the otherwise neutral paint job.

“Is that a gnome wearing a swimming ring?” I asked, squinting trying to make out the little figure in the darkness. “That’s so cute. Did your mom buy you that? I-”

“Y/N.”

My mouth clamped shut.

“What’s wrong?” Jimin asked, reaching out to caress my shoulder. “You’re not acting like yourself.”

I sighed, finally done hiding my very apparent discomfort. “Just really nervous about how I’m feeling.”

“Tell me about it?”

I looked at him and nodded, “Can we go inside? It’s really cold.”

“Of course, angel.”

The pet name made me short circuit long enough to get inside without saying another word. Were we on that level now? Would it be okay for me to start calling him sweet little names like that? Would he want me to? What would I even call the guy? Nothing seemed good enough. No words could ever be good enough to express everything that he was becoming to me. 

“I can take your coat,” Jimin murmured in my ears, hands already helping me shrug out of the dark wool coat. “Shoes go on that little shelf over there.”

“Thank you,” I absentmindedly replied, still dazed. 

What about babe? No, too conventional. Sweetheart? No, that was Joon’s thing. Honey? We are definitely not beating the old woman allegations with that one. That also rules out darling and sweetie. He’d never let me live that down.

“Feeling a bit better now?” He asked, hand on the small of my back as he led me further into the house. “You’re not shaking anymore.”

I had not realized how off course my thoughts had gotten. I got so swept up in him that everything else just faded away. Pleased, I smiled and nodded.

He chuckled, “Where did your mind go this time, angel girl?”

I giggled, giddy that we were keeping up the terms of endearment. 

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you,” I leaned into his touch, melting in his arms as we walked. He finally wrapped me up completely, pressing me into his side with his hand on my hip. “I like it when you call me that.”

Jimin hummed, “What? Angel?”

I nodded, putting my head on his shoulder. It was a bit awkward but I dealt with the discomfort. I enjoyed being this close to him. Knowing that he seemed just as eager to be here with me was a bonus. 

“What do you think of the place?” He asked.

Blinking, I tried to disguise the fact that I had not been paying attention to a single thing since we walked inside. Letting my eyes wonder, I almost laughed at how accurate Jimin’s description of his house was. 

Standing in his living room, I marveled at how dark everything was. Black leather sofas, a dark gray fluffy rug, a flat screen, and a black iron fireplace were the stand out pieces. There were a few family photos on the mantle and a fake potted plant beside it, but other than that it was completely barren. It was just as sad and depressing as he said it would be, but instead of feeling disappointed it only made me smile. Everything in here was his and now I was included in that. 

“I love it.”

He laughed, squeezing me impossibly closer, “You don’t have to lie. I know it’s the quintessential bachelor pad.”

“I’m not lying,” I argued. “It’s perfect. Very you.”

“Even the dusty, ugly, fake Der Rose Jungkook got me as a housewarming gift?”

“Especially that,” I joked.

“Okay clown,” He laughed, pulling away from my side. “Go sit on the couch and I’ll make us some hot chocolate. Need to warm you up.”

Giving me the remote for the very large television hanging above the fireplace, Jimin promised to be back soon and left me in charge of finding something good to watch. After flicking through a few channels, I ended up settling on 21 Jump Street and ogled at Johnny Depp and Holly Robinson Peete. My dad and I used to watch the show together when I was young, and it brought me back to the few happy times that we had. I really needed to call him.

“Damn that’s a handsome man.”

I jumped, “Jesus you scared me.”

Jimin laughed, setting down two mugs on his coffee table. They were steaming hot and I decided to leave mine to cool off for a few seconds. Taking his seat next to me, Jimin was quick to throw his arm around my shoulders and pull his legs up onto the sofa. 

“Get comfortable,” He said, crossing his legs. “It’s just me.”

“Yeah,” I snorted, curling my legs up next to me and placing my head on his shoulder. “That’s the problem.”

“You’re being extra flirty tonight,” He teased. “I like it.”

I chose to stay quiet and watch the show. This was one of my favorite episodes. Hanson, Hoff, and Loki go undercover to try and solve a string of drive-by shootings between a couple of gangs, and Booker is trying to investigate a dirty cop on the force. I always loved the scenes between Johnny Depp and Holly the most. They were so cute together and the chemistry was crazy even though their characters never ended up together.

Jimin started playing with my hair, his fingers gently caressing my neck before scratching my scalp. It felt amazing and I relaxed even further into his side. After that episode was over, he leaned down and put his head on top of mine. Another episode came on, this was the second part to the previous, and I let my eyes close. This was really nice. And to think I almost let it all go to shit because I could not keep myself from spiraling.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” I mumbled.

“Don’t be,” He whispered back, placing a small kiss on the top of my head. “Never apologize for being upset.”

Taking a deep breath, I thought about what Hoseok had said. There was no reason to tell him anything right now, or at least, the “L” word did not need to come into conversation. Still, it felt wrong to keep him in the dark. Jimin was always willing to listen and I felt awful for lying to him earlier.

“I really like you and sometimes it scares me,” I admitted quietly. “I called Hoseok to see if he had any advice. Sorry I lied about that.”

He shook his head, “I’m not upset with you, angel. Sometimes they scare me, too.”

“Really?” I had never really thought about that before.

“Of course,” He chuckled, moving away to look down at me. I lifted my head in a rare act of bravery. “I don’t think you understand just how amazing you are.”

I smiled lazily, unable to look away from him. He looked so beautiful in this lighting. The tv on one side of his face, the darkness in the rest of the house casting a dark shadow on the rest of it. I noticed his head inching closer, eyes heavily lidded as he watched me, waiting for a reaction. Heart pounding, I did the only thing I could think of. I closed my eyes and tilted my head higher.

“You smell so good,” He murmured, lips brushing mine. “God, you’re so pretty.”

I opened my mouth to respond but was unable to get anything out before his lips were pressed against it. I breathed out through my nose and allowed myself to just enjoy it. His lips were so soft and plump, his upper lip just barely scratching my skin with peach fuzz, and chin ever so gently bumping against mine as we came together. 

My skin was on fire as he invaded every cell in my body until all I could think about was him. His hand gripped the back of my neck and pressed us together roughly, his tongue licking against my bottom lip asking to be let inside. There was nothing he couldn’t ask for now. I mewled embarrassingly when our tongues twisted together. Jimin groaned in response. 

“Is this okay?” He rasped when we pulled apart for air.

I replied by taking his face in my hands and pulling him back in for more. Jimin responded eagerly, gripping my neck tighter and holding me close. I hummed in satisfaction, leaning into his chest. His skin was on fire beneath me and I briefly wondered if his chest got as pink as his cheeks did.

Jimin broke away, dragging my body closer until I was practically laying on his lap, before guiding my mouth back to his. My lips were numb, swollen, and still begging for more. The show was long forgotten, the noise also like static in the background as I suckled on his bottom lip. Jimin whined, fingers twisting into my hair as he held me in place.

“Feeling okay?” He mumbled into my mouth, taking a second to catch his breath.

“Great,” I slurred, before shutting him up again.

I lost track of time as we sat there entangled in one another. Lips hardly able to feel anything anymore, I broke away and tried to calm my racing heart. Jimin took the opportunity to go for my neck, his plush lips delicate against my skin. I shuttered. 

I could feel my panties sticking to my folds, slick gently wetting my thighs as he continued his gentle assault on my neck. He never sucked hard enough to leave marks behind, but after a few moments I could safely say Jimin was a fan of teeth. They scratched my skin softly, tickling me in the process, before his tongue smoothed over any redness that might have popped up. Moaning, I tilted my head back and granted him more access.

“You’re so fucking hot,” He rasped, licking a long stripe up my neck before biting my ear. “So needy.”

I chuckled, the sound breathless. “Do you want to stop?”

“Fuck no.”

I giggled, kissing his cheek, “Such a boy.”

I nodded, kissing the underside of my chin before pecking my lips.

“I’m your boy,” He smiled lazily, kissing me again.

“Yes,” I agreed, unable to stop smiling as I cradled his face between my hands. “My good-looking boy.”

With one final peck on my chin, Jimin leaned back into the sofa and dragged my body down with his. Laying on top of his body, my eyes fixated on the tv. Buffy the Vampire Slayer was playing now, and I grinned. It was one of my favorite shows to watch when I had a bad day. It was nice to have it with me at this moment. A happy memory with my comfort show in the background only sweetened the already tender moment. 

“She should have been with Spike,” Jimin’s chest rumbled underneath me.

Getting more comfortable, I nodded.

“I kind of like that she decided to stay friends with them both. Tara and Willow were the power couple anyway.”

“Not a fan of Oz?” He started playing with my hair.

“I liked them, too, but for different reasons. The only other couple that comes close to Tara and Willow were Giles and Jenny.”

We were quiet as we watched, small kisses shared during commercial breaks, and I never felt the need to try and open my mouth. Nothing needed to be said when our feelings were so apparent. Hoseok, as usual, was right. I just needed time to breathe and think about things before running head first into a love confession. And if he said anyone with eyes and ears could see how I felt, then there was no real reason for me to say anything. Jimin already knows. He always did.

“God, I’ve always loved that DeSoto Fireflite,” I gushed, eyeing Spike's car hungrily. “The ‘59 model is sexy.”

“Why do you know so much about cars?” He asked.

“My dad’s a mechanic,” I explained. “He owns his own restoration shop back in Pennsylvania and I used to go over there all of the time. I almost ditched swimming to take over the body shop when he lost an employee.”

“You never stop amazing me,” He murmured, kissing the top of my head. “Has he found anything cool recently?”

I grew quiet. Truthfully, I had no clue. It had been almost two years since we last spoke, and I doubted he was looking forward to hearing from me. He had a new family. A new life. One that did not have the space for me in it. My silence must have worried Jimin because he asked if I was okay.

“We don’t talk anymore,” I replied. “He got remarried a few years ago and his wife doesn’t like me.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” I sighed, “It’s juvenile, really. He seems happy though, so I don’t push it.”

“They don’t deserve you. You’re too good to be treated like that.”

I laughed, eyes prickling with unshed tears. I did not talk about this often and it felt nice to get it off of my chest. For a long time Victor had been the person I looked to as a father figure, and we still keep in touch. He always calls for holidays and birthdays, checks in randomly, and asks me how I’m doing. He stayed with me through the worst of the damage, and only left Colorado when his daughter decided to move abroad for school. Denver was too expensive to justify the expenses and his new trainee was in Florida. I missed him a lot more than I ever realized.

“I made my own family, though. Couldn’t have picked better.”

Colorado would always be home because that was where pieces of my heart lived. Jin, Andy, and Hoseok were never planning on moving. Minho would be there as long as Tilly was, and she was around for Hoseok. I had a feeling Max would change that, and the two of them may end up starting a new adventure with Minho in tow. A trouple for the ages. That made me grin.

Michigan was starting to feel like my own adventure. New bonds and ties are formed with each passing day. Going back to Colorado helped to put that in perspective. It did not matter if I was there or not, because my family was, and I would always have a place there. Ann Arbor was different.

The person I envisioned myself spending the rest of my life with lived here, his family and friends becoming like my own, and I could never ask him to leave them. When Na-Yeon died someone would need to be around for James and the kids. When Jungkook and Darcy inevitably went their separate ways, he would need a shoulder to cry on. Taehyung and his panic attacks. Milo and his work stresses. All of it meant that someone needed to be around to bring them back to themselves, and I wanted to be a part of that in any way they would allow me.

“I’m really happy that I met you,” I told Jimin, eyes not truly focusing on the show anymore. “Being here with you- I couldn’t ask for more.”

A kiss on my head, “I feel the same way, angel.”

I fell asleep like that. Jimin had to wake me up a little after one in the morning to see if I wanted to sleep at his place. I politely declined since I promised the Andersons that I would be back for breakfast tomorrow and left shortly thereafter. I barely even focused on the ride home, tired and drunk off of the high of the evening. 

Calvin was awake when I walked through the front door. A plate of cookies in front of him, he held up a finger to his lips and pointed upstairs. Violet had been strict about his diet as of late. The last time he had gone to the doctor his cholesterol levels were slightly elevated, and we had been eating very bland, not all that great food ever since. I smiled sleepily, stealing a cookie for myself as payment. We would never speak of this night again.

Finishing up my cookie, I quickly peeled out of my clothes before heading into the bathroom to do my skincare routine. Exhausted, I was barely aware of the text I sent to Jimin before I climbed into bed. I was asleep before my head ever hit the pillow.

“You’re still not hitting your best time,” I spoke into my headset, looking at the stop watch in my hand. “We’re only at 90%. I want 92%.”

Jimin groaned, frustrated and tired. We had been at this all morning and he was not making as much progress as I hoped he would. I had prepared an 200s anaerobic training set so we could work on his endurance. For the last few weeks we were focused on speed and mastering his butterflies and turns. Now that we were feeling more comfortable training together I was moving onto those issues I had at the beginning. So far it was not going over well.

“This is bullshit,” He huffed, pulling his goggles up. “I’ve been at this for hours and haven’t done anything.”

I shook my head and fought to keep myself neutral. Training had become a bit challenging to work around given our new relationship status, but we both agreed to keep that out of our sessions. We had another date next Friday. He was refusing to tell me where we were going, the only hint being we would be going to Jungkook’s game, but the rest was a mystery. 

“You’re getting better,” I replied, holding the microphone closer to my mouth. I had woken up with a sore throat and could not speak loud enough on my own, so we were finally using my old earpiece to communicate. “You went from 88% to 90%. I think with some more drills we can get up a bit more.”

He went to put his goggles back on, but I told him to stop.

“We’re done for the day,” I said, rubbing my raw throat. “You’re getting angry and I’m losing my voice.”

He stared at me, glowering childishly, and crossed his arms across his chest. Lifting my head a little higher, I looked at him with an eyebrow raised. It was a challenge, one we both knew meant I was losing my patience. Normally he would back down at this point, tucking his tail between his legs, and going to the back to get changed. Today, it would seem, was not a normal day.

“No we’re not,” He said through gritted teeth, eyes narrowed. “I’m not where I want to be.”

“Yes. We. Are,” I made a show of emphasizing every word, tossing my clipboard onto the duffle at my feet. “Something is bothering you. If you don’t want to talk to me about it, that’s fine, but you’ve been acting like a brat all morning.” I ripped my whistle off my neck, bent down, and shoved both it and the stopwatch into the pocket of the duffle bag. Jimin was still pouting in the center of the pool. “I’m not arguing with you. I’m sick and you’re angry. Just go get dressed.”

My throat burned. I talked too much and had not given the sore skin time to rest. Rubbing my forehead, I breathed through my nose in an attempt to cool off. His attitude was really starting to piss me off.

Angry, Jimin made his way out of the pool far louder than necessary. I sighed when the locker room door slammed behind him. I got us off on the wrong foot this morning by being snippy and curt with my answers. His foul mood only made it worse. As training went on I had gotten back into the groove, my annoyance over being ill forgotten, but my bad behavior had obviously bothered him enough to keep him frustrated with me for the rest of the morning. It did not help that I never apologized. 

I took more time packing up my things today hoping that I could “bump into” Jimin before leaving. I tried to think of the right way to word my own frustrations without undermining what happened between us. I hurt his feelings, and I needed to take ownership of that. 

“Sorry for acting like an ass.”

I shouted, shocked, and nearly slipped on the wet floor. Rebalancing on the balls of my feet, I looked over to see Jimin standing at the locker room door. He was still wearing his cap but threw on a pair of shorts. 

“I thought you were taking a shower,” I rasped, all of the fire from earlier gone. 

“Me too,” He ran a hand over his face and leaned against the closed door. “Just felt wrong letting you leave like that.”

I nodded, swallowing thickly. My saliva irritated my throat more and I winced in pain. I really needed something to help with the pain. 

“It’s not just you,” I finally said, my voice cracking. “I acted like an asshole this morning and you had every right to be upset. I’m sorry I didn’t apologize, either.”

“Doesn’t mean I should have gotten all pissy,” He sighed, looking more relaxed now than he had all day. “I’ve always had a bad temper, but that’s not an excuse to talk to you like that. It wasn’t even that big of a deal.”

He was doing that thing again, the thing where he downplayed his own hurt feelings and redirected blame onto himself. Not wanting his mind to go down that rabbit hole, I walked over to him. I rarely went to this side of the room. I usually used the employee shower in the back since I felt less exposed, but Jimin never felt ashamed of his nakedness. The only reason he started putting shorts on is because he noticed how awkward I became.

“It’s okay to be mad at me,” I soothed, reaching out to take hold of his hand. “We both acted a little childishly. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Nodding, he leaned forward to rest his head on my shoulder. 

“I just feel bad,” He whispered into my skin. “You’re not feeling well and here I am making it worse. I’m such a dick sometimes.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding him close. Despite our second date being postponed due to training and the charity event this weekend, the physical affection we showed one another only ramped up. Kissing was Jimin’s new favorite thing, and I hoped we could take it a step further this weekend. Even if he was cool with taking things slow I had come to find out that I was not. Maybe after a nice conversation we could fool around a little more.

“So am I,” My voice was almost gone. “Now, can we stop arguing and get breakfast? A hot chocolate is the only thing that’s going to make me feel better.”

He chuckled, lifting his head to look at me. He was no longer angry, eyes dancing, and I felt a surge of energy run through me. Sick or not, I would do just about anything to keep him smiling. Even if it meant doing the hardest thing imaginable: apologizing. Stepping out of my embrace, Jimin took hold of my hand and walked us back to my duffle bag. He always insisted on carrying it.

“I think a hot tea would be much better for a sore throat,” He mused, “But if it’s cocoa you want, well, who am I to stop you?”

Rolling my eyes, I leaned into his side, “Who’s paying?”

“Me,” He scoffed. “Obviously. Denny’s is way cheaper than putting gas in my truck.”

That made me laugh loudly, the pain in my throat forgotten. We had a rule between the two of us. If you didn’t buy breakfast then you were buying gas for the day. Jimin had taken extra time coming to scoop me up this morning since I woke up sick and refused to stay in bed. After a lengthy conversation about money, we both agreed that he could pay for all of our dates if I could split up other costs with him. While not happy about it, he conceded.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” I teased, rolling my eyes.

The gym was filled, always packed just before and after lunch time. The lull of the afternoon would carry over until around 6 and we had a decent sized group until closing. When Giselle opened up at 5:30 the following morning, the same group of guys were always the first ones in the door. I had spoken to them a handful of times and helped spot one of them once or twice, but that was the most of my interactions with anyone that exercised here. None of us really wanted to be bothered, and kept mostly to ourselves.

Giselle and Sam were chatting at the host stand when we walked by. Jimin was always nice enough to greet his staff, but never stuck around for too long. They were all friendly, and he was very good friends with Yoongi and Megan, but he was too focused on keeping up with his daily schedule to hang out. Despite being late to everything, Jimin was an extremely organized person and hated it when his plans were disrupted. 

“Where are you two headed?” The young woman asked, a genuine smile on her face as she glanced down at our hands. 

“Breakfast,” I answered. Giselle was easily my favorite person here, her only competition being Megan or Yoongi, and I always tried to make time for her when she was available. “Do you need something?”

She shook her head, “Not right now, but would you be okay with bringing in a case of the blue Monsters tomorrow? We just ran out and Yoongi is feeling it hard.”

I laughed and agreed. Yoongi was the resident caffeine addict on staff and would go through pot after pot of coffee during his shift. After Drew, the general manager, told him he was using too many of the Keurig cups, he had moved onto energy drinks. The Lo-Carb Monsters were his favorite, and I was not surprised to hear he was out. He bought a four pack every other day.

“I’ll DoorDash a few packs to the building right now. I owe him anyway.”

“Are you ordering from Busch’s?” Sam asked. 

I nodded, “Probably. I know they’ll have them. What’s up?”

“Can you throw in a couple of sushi rolls?” He asked, and my phone vibrated in the side pocket of my leggings. “I sent you $20. I totally forgot to pack my lunch and I’m swamped with sessions today.”

“Sure man. Spicy crab rolls?”

“You’re an angel,” Sam sighed. “Make sure you get plenty of rest. You sound like shit.”

“Thanks,” I replied sarcastically, rolling my eyes. “See you tomorrow. I think Park will be riding solo tonight.”

Jimin chuckled, “I’m planning on skipping the gym tonight, too.”

We walked out of the building, hands swinging between us. The feeling was so familiar and yet so foreign. I had not dated since Joon’s passing and was severely out of practice, but Jimin made it feel easy. 

“You? Skipping leg day? Scandalous.”

Jimin laughed, sounding like sunshine. “And let my girl sit at home sick by herself?”

That shut me up. After learning I was a sucker for pet names, Jimin had gotten into the habit of using them to get his way. Feeling my face heating up, I forced a laugh as I let go of his hand and rounded the truck. My girl. It made me feel both terrified and comforted at the same time.

My girl…Angel…Angel Girl… I couldn’t pick a favorite.

“Do you mind if I come over?” Jimin sounded less confident now. 

I had barely noticed him starting the truck. Must have zoned out again. 

“I don’t have much to do,” I admitted. “My place is pretty boring.”

“You’re there,” He shrugged. “And you have a tv. I’m sure we can think of something.”

“Okay,” I hid my smile behind my hand and started to look out of the window.

Saline was very beautiful. At this time of year, many of the trees were barren but I knew they would look gorgeous in the summer. I frowned. I was set to be back in Colorado by then if I could not make up my mind about the move.

“Don’t get quiet on me, gran-gran,” I snorted. “You don’t blink when you zone out and it’s creepy.”

“I so do,” I laughed, turning to look at the pretty boy. “You are such a liar.”

That did nothing but make him laugh. “Might want to order those drinks, by the way.”

I thanked him for the reminder and quickly made a small shopping cart. I threw in a few extras. Coconut creamer for Skye, a new box of Hot Pockets for Drew and Dominic, and a large box of cookies and chips for the rest of the staff. Before I could check out, a page popped up of previous things I had ordered before and I quickly added one of those expensive bags of cookies. Those were Megan’s favorite and she had bought me two coffees this week. 

“Do you want anything?” I asked Jimin.

“Maybe some seaweed chips?” We were turning into the Denny’s parking lot. “Thanks, angel.”

I added in a few other items. Band-aids because I knew we were running low, more tea bags, the coffee pods Yoongi liked, and a few different packets of the candy for Giselle. She had such a sweet tooth it was a miracle she only had one cavity. It took me a bit longer to find Jimin’s favorite brand of seaweed chips, and I decided to toss in a few different flavors of the spicy ramen he loves to eat as well. Finally happy with my order, I checked out and messaged Sam that I secured his lunch. He sent me the sunglasses emoji as a reply.

“Earth to Y/N.”

I jumped, blinking rapidly, and saw a thoroughly amused Jimin staring at me. We were parked, the truck was off, and his hand was already on the handle. We both laughed but did not say anything else. If Jimin could be late all of the time then I could space out whenever I wanted.

“I’m so ready for these blueberry pancakes,” Jimin threw his arm around my shoulders as we walked. “What are you getting?”

I shrugged, “Hot cocoa and an omelet, probably.”

“An omlet does sound really good,” He mumbled to himself, holding open the door for me.

“That’s why I’m getting one,” I mumbled, pausing at the door to kiss him. “I’m thinking  ham and cheese.”

Jimin smiled, caught off guard by the gesture, “Shit, if omelets get me one of those then I’ll eat eggs for the rest of my life.”

I laughed, the sound echoing in the small entrance area. This Denny’s was always busy but I could see a few empty booths in the back. Perfect.

“You think I’m playing,” He continued, wrapping an arm around my waist as he grabbed a hold of the second door. “Breakfast, lunch, and dinner if I had to.”

I rolled my eyes, “You don’t need to live off eggs to get kisses, you big baby.”

“No,” He chuckled, swooping down and stealing a kiss of his own. “But it sounded really cool.”

The hostess smiled at our little exchange and I fixed her with a deadpan stare.

“Typical.”

She laughed, “Right this way.”

Hobi: Are you excited about the charity event?

Me: Park’s going to kill it

Hobi: Nervous about getting seen?

Me: Not at all. I doubt anyone there will recognize me anyway.

Closing the trunk of my car, I sighed. We were on our way to the charity meet, and Jimin was running a few minutes behind. Fiona needed to go to a shop soon and Jimin was driving her like she was going to explode any second. It was frustrating as I hated being late, but it was impossible to be angry with him. We had planned on leaving the day before the meet and getting a hotel room so we could both be as well rested as possible. 

To say I was nervous about sharing a room for the night was an understatement. Jimin had gotten a suite with two beds so I would feel more comfortable (his words, not mine), but the added security of separation did little to calm my racing thoughts. I was not planning on having sex this weekend, Jimin needed to keep his energy for the meet, but I would be lying if I said the thought had not crossed my mind more than once.

“Are you okay?”

Snapping out of my trance, I turned to find the man of the hour stood next to me. There was a large duffle bag around his shoulders, and his oversized hoodie only made him look even smaller. Smiling, he kissed my cheek in greeting. 

“Fine,” I breathed, smiling back. “Almost ready?”

Jimin nodded, “Just need to put this bag in the back. You didn’t forget any of your meds, right?”

He had been spending most of his time at my house recently and was well acquainted with my large pill collection. At first he had been concerned as to why I turned down taking medication for my illness back on Monday, but stopped questioning it so much when I told him about the other four pills I take daily. I always avoided taking extra stuff if I could.

“They’re in my suitcase.”

We were going to be in Allendale until Sunday. The meet was on Saturday, and while it was only a little over 2 hours away, I was positive Jimin was going to be exhausted after we were finished. This was an event super close to his heart and he had told me how nervous he felt about attending. Spending two nights seemed like a simple solution to deal with both of our anxieties, and even more so when I brought up my fears of being recognized and harassed. Jimin turned red with anger when I told him about my previous experiences with the news and promised he would never let that happen to me again. 

“I guess we should stop by my mom’s house on the way out,” He mused. “I know she wanted to come but she’s been really sick.”

Na-Yeon’s avoidance of treatment was finally beginning to take its toll on her physical health. I had hardly seen her at all since I came back from Colorado, and from what Jimin tells me she’s done nothing but throw up and sleep. James had told me that she was trying to stay alive long enough to see Jimin win an Olympic medal, but he wasn’t sure if that was going to be possible. I was hoping to speak with her myself and see if there was any way I could convince her to start her chemo back up again. It was killing Jimin to see his mother this way.

“I was thinking,” I handed my keys over to Jimin. “Maybe your mom and I could have a little girl’s day when we get back.”

“Why?” He chuckled, 

I shrugged. Trying to come off as nonchalant was better than honesty. I was not sure how Jimin would take my intrusion, but I still wanted to try it anyway. I loved Na-Yeon, and hoped that I could talk her out of her decision. There had been a time when I would have let myself die, too, but I was fortunate enough to have Andy fighting for me. I probably would have never walked again had it not been for her and Hoseok.

“Just want to be closer to her,” It was not a lie. I was dating her son and I wanted us to be like mother and daughter the same way I had been with Namjoon’s family. “She’s been looking a little down lately. Maybe getting out of the house a little might cheer her up.”

Jimin grinned at me, his expression soft. Leaning forward, he kissed my forehead. My chest warmed. He was always touching me as though I was made of glass.

“Have I ever told you how amazing you are?” He asked.

“Once or twice,” I replied, a giggling bubbling up my throat. “We should get going. Traffic is going to start piling up soon.”

Piling into the car, I relaxed into the passenger seat and took a hold of Jimin’s hand. He chuckled, pulled away to put the car into drive, and placed his hand on my thigh. I could feel a light layer of sweat on his palms. I put my hand on top of his.

“Are you sure you’re okay driving?” I asked him, tightening my grip.

“Yeah, angel,” He replied, smiling over at me. “I’m good. I like driving.”

“Still,” I argued, “You’re going to be swimming all day tomorrow. I feel bad making you drive, too.”

“Don’t,” He lifted my hand and kissed the back of it. His eyes never left the road. “I’m happy you’re here with me. All that other shit is just details.”

That shut me up. We drove in silence for the few minutes that it took to get to his parent’s house. I decided to stay in the car while he went to say goodbye. Jimin deserved some alone time with his folks, and I had sent a text to his mother this morning promising to send her a video of him swimming. All she cared about was making sure she could have a phone call with him when everything was over with. Na-Yeon missed watching him swim more than anything and it broke her heart that she was too ill to come with us today.

James waved at me from the front door and I returned the gesture with a huge smile. He had been so excited to see me after finding out about Jimin and I. James was extremely supportive and had already started to call me his daughter. I had yet to return the favor, but secretly loved it. Jimin would get so embarrassed, he’d turn red and scold his dad in Korean. Na-Yeon would watch them silently, but send me a smile and a wink when she thought no one was looking. Wedding bells were already sounding off in their heads.

I thought it would bother me more than it did. Instead, I felt calmed by their excitement. I had been really worried about the age gap between the two of us, but having our family and friends be so accepting had taken that weight off of my shoulders. 

Ne-Yeon’s little head poked out from behind her husband’s shoulder. She looked worn and had bags under her eyes, but her smile was just as big and beautiful as it always had been. Touched that she had thought to come and greet me, I got out of the car.

“What are you doing out of bed?” I teased, wrapping my arms around the frail woman.

She returned my hug with full force. It was concerning that her squeezes felt feather light. I hoped she was eating enough.

“Bodybuilding,” She joked, her voice lacking the usual spunk it carried. When I went to let go, she held me tighter. “Take care of him.”

I nodded, “I will.”

Jimin and I left a few minutes later. Na-Yeon was hanging off of him for as long as she could, her little arm wrapped around his waist as the four of us stood in their doorway. James and I never made physical contact, but Jimin always swore his dad preferred me to him. The older man was always smiling at me, his eyes sparkling brightly, and his mouth moving so quickly at times it was difficult to understand what he was saying. Today was one of those days and I struggled to pay attention to anything else.

“Dad,” Jimin interrupted Jame’s latest fishing story. “We have to go.”

James deflated.

“When you come back?” He asked me. 

“Sunday,” I replied. “We should be back for dinner.”

He smiled again, “I make daegusal-jorim for you. It’s spicy.”

I grinned. If I remember right, that was some sort of cod dish. James was always making some type of seafood since he was fishing constantly. Na-Yeon often complained about never eating any other meat. Jimin and I were always happy to indulge ourselves in his father’s cooking.

“I’m cooking,” Ne-Yeon said.

I looked at her, “Really?”

The last time I had eaten her food was Jimin’s birthday back in October. She made a huge pot of kimchi stew since it was her son’s favorite, and I remembered it being delicious. Sometimes Jimin would talk about all of his favorite foods he grew up eating, and 9 times out of 10 it would be something his mother had made him. Apparently, according to Jimin, his father could only cook fish. Na-Yeon, however, could make magic out of nothing. 

“Yes,” She insisted. “Need to celebrate my baby.”

Jimin flushed, his mother’s fingers pinching at his fat cheeks. “Mom.”

“I’ll try to get us back early enough to help you out,” I offered, checking my watch. “We really do need to go, though. Trying to beat the traffic.”

With a few hugs and a couple of kisses on the cheek, Jimin and I left. I had finally grown used to Jimin playing the radio while he drove, and I enjoyed watching him as he sang along. Catching my eye, Jimin grinned widely and serenaded me. He had a pretty voice, soft and sweet, and I felt my heart jump into my throat.

It was shocking just how comfortable I was in this car with him. Instead of staring out the window, watching the roads like a hawk, I was laughing and enjoying his presence. With the radio blasting, I opened my mouth and sang back. Jimin’s eyes widening, his voice growing more confident as he took my hand in his.

“With a taste of your lips I’m on a ride,” He giggled, squeezing my fingers.

“You're toxic,” I wiggled my eyebrows. “I’m slippin’ under.”

“With a taste of a poison paradise,” I leaned over and kissed his shoulder. “I’m addicted to you. Don’t you know that you’re toxic?”

Satisfied with myself, I leaned back in my seat and watched him sing. My actions only emboldened his own, and soon Jimin was singing his heart out in the driver's seat. His hand on my thigh moved closer and closer to my core only to slide back down when he realized what he was doing. Each time I laughed it off, but inside I was yearning for him to do more. Not in the car, I might have a real panic attack then, but possibly when we were in the safety of our hotel room.

The drive was quicker than normal. We had beaten the traffic by an hour and our impromptu karaoke session in the car made the time fly. The sun was just beginning to set as we pulled up at the hotel and Jimin was practically skipping inside. Making him happy was something I took great pride in, and my little performance in the car had made him radiant.

My chest puffed out when I caught the front desk receptionist eyed him hungrily. Her pretty eyes were unable to stop staring at the beautiful boy beside me. Hand in hand, we took our key card and made our way to the elevator.

When the doors shut, Jimin pulled me into his arms. I sighed in relief. He smelled so good, his chest warm and hard, and I could smell the faint hint of his after shave. It didn’t matter if we won or lost this event. Nothing was going to destroy the high I was on.

“I’m nervous,” Jimin mumbled, letting me go when the elevator dinged. “I know a few of the guys I’ll be swimming with tomorrow. They’re all really good.”

I nodded, “You’re better.”

“How do you know that?” I had never heard him sound so unsure of himself before. “I haven’t been competing like I normally do this season.”

“Because you’re Jimin Park,” I replied easily, the confidence in my tone unmistakable. “And I’m Y/N Y/L/N. We’ve both put in a lot of work and time into this, and you’re going to be great.”

“But-”

I shushed him. Taking the keycard from his hand, I swiped the card through the reader and opened the door. Behind me, Jimin breathed through his nose. It was a loud, defeated sound. Stepping into the room, I gestured for Jimin to walk inside and closed the door behind us.

It was a standard hotel room. A large queen sized bed was in the middle, a small love seat beside it, and a mini fridge beside the large flat screen hanging on the wall. The air was stale, like no one had been in here in a while, and I could faintly see fading stains on some kind in the dark carpet. I bit my lip. Maybe I should have gotten the nicer place Taehyung had suggested.

“5 Stars?” Jimin dead-panned, the little smirk on his face telling me he was joking.

I sauntered closer to him, hands resting on his chest, “Of course. Only the best for an Olympian.”

He sighed, wrapping his arms around my waist, “Thank you angel.”

Still feeling high off of his presence, I kissed his cheek.

“I was talking about me.”

“Yeah?” He mumbled, lips brushing my own. “You think you’re funny?”

I nodded, dazed, “Hilarious.”

“Ass,” He breathed, before finally kissing me properly. “Anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?” Another kiss. Then another. Then another. “It’s distracting.”

“What should we do about that?” I choked out, chasing after his retreating face. “Where are you going?”

He giggled cheekily, eyes glittering mischievously. 

“We need to eat, don’t we?”

I rolled my eyes and huffed, grabbing the back of his neck with my hand. “Fuck the food.”

He pulled away again, his face far more serious now. All of the playful lust flowing through my vein was stopped dead in its tracks leaving a chill in its wake. Fearful I had been too forward, I immediately took a step back and shied away from him like I had been burned. Jimin noticed this and shook his head, reaching out to grab my hand. I let him.

“I want to,” He told me. “I’m just not ready for that yet, and I think you deserve better than some nasty motel in Allendale.”

I nodded, my understanding of his fears doing little to dull the sting of his rejection. I knew it was not a real rejection, he had just asked for more time, but my heart ached with the memory of him moving away from me. It made me feel disgusted. Still, I forced a smile onto my face and nodded. I hoped he could tell I was okay with his request. It was only the hurt feelings that made me want to run away and hide.

“I get it,” Even I could hear the sickeningly-sweet edge my voice had taken on and hated it. I was so bad at this shit. “We can take our time. Whatever you want.”

Jimin frowned but chose not to say anything. Pulling back from him, I wandered to the tv and picked up the remote. A home renovation show was on and I knew I would not be paying enough attention to the tv to care how awful the acting was. 

“What’s for lunch?” I asked absentmindedly, trying to come across more relaxed than I felt. “I saw a pizza place on the way in if you’re feeling it.”

Silence.

“Maybe something less greasy,” I mused, already feeling myself growing panicked. “Milo said there’s a really good Italian place not too far from here-”

“Baby.”

I stopped talking and looked at the pretty boy standing across the room. He looked so sad and it broke my heart. I hated it when he didn't smile. I hated it even more when it was my fault.

“Talk to me,” He urged, coming to stand beside me. He made no moves to touch me for which I was grateful. “I know you’re upset about something.”

I shrugged, “I take rejection about as well as anybody else, and I don’t want you to feel bad about it so I’m moving on. I know we’re both hungry so I’m trying to figure out food. I’m sorry if I’m being weird again.”

He nodded, smiling sadly. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”

I reached out to hug him. Jimin was happy to take me into his arms. I loved how safe and secure I felt in his presence. I was slightly taller than he was, my body made for swimming, but he never seemed to mind. Leaning down, I tucked my head underneath his chin and closed my eyes. Breathe, I told myself.

“You didn’t mean to,” I replied. “I’m sorry if I made you feel pressured or rushed into anything.”

He chuckled, “I want to have sex with you. Just not right now. Not tonight.”

I closed my eyes, “Later?”

That made him laugh. I grinned in response. My foul mood left with a kiss to the top of my head. We were fine. There was no reason to get insecure. We were fine. Jimin liked me. I liked him. That’s all that matters.

I adjusted myself and leaned my head on his. Jimin buried his face into my neck and left a few gentle kisses on the sensitive skin. I whined in response, curling into him. Jimin groaned, the sound strained. I felt it in my core.

“Definitely,” He rasped, giving my neck another kiss. “We need to stop before I change my mind.”

I giggled, pulling away from him. If he wanted space and time then I would give that to him, even if it meant making the both of us a little uncomfortable for the next two days. With the awkward moment behind us, we started planning out dinner and I was confident in our chances at winning tomorrow. Even though it was a charity event, we were both excited about the donation money going to the hospital where his mother received treatment. Jimin especially.

After our late lunch (we decided on pizza), we came back to the hotel. I was adamant that Jimin take the day off from swimming to preserve his energy for tomorrow. His old coach (asshole) had always forced him to swim at every possible moment, and would become angry and condescending when Jimin asked for time off. I swore the next time I saw Hamilton I’d give him a piece of my mind, but knew that I would ultimately leave him be. The guy was a slimeball and didn’t deserve my time and energy.

Crawling into bed that night, we talked for a few hours while a crime tv show played. Jimin enjoyed pillowtalk and I just enjoyed his company too much to tell him to stop talking. Once it was around ten, his eyes closed in the middle of a sentence and light snores followed soon after. That was another thing he was good at- falling asleep wherever and whenever.

I got out of bed a few minutes later, my mind too busy to go to sleep. As quietly as I could, I walked out of the hotel room. Jimin did not move an inch. 

Hoseok picked up after the third ring.

“Do you know what time it is?” He answered, fake anger in his voice.

“Yeah, 10,” I rolled my eyes. “Way before your bedtime. Are you free?”

Hoseok hummed, “Yeah. What’s up?”

I groaned, embarrassment creeping up my spine. I would have preferred to talk to Andy about this, but I knew she was working tonight and would not be free. Tilly was an absolute no go, and I did not feel comfortable enough with anybody in Saline to call them this late to talk about my dry sex life. They were all Jimin’s friends first anyway.

“Jimin says he’s not ready for sex and I’m trying not to overthink it. I need your advice, oh wise one.”

Hoseok laughed, “Dude, I can’t help you. My girl is the same way.”

Shocked, I tried to remember if I had ever heard about this mystery girl before. Then, it hit me. Andy had mentioned something about a blonde girl. She must be serious for Hoseok to casually bring her up in conversation. I wonder how long he’d been hiding her from the rest of us.

“Your girl, huh? And who might that be?”

Hoseok sighed, “I know it sounds crazy, but she’s a swimmer.”

Racking my brain, I tried to think of every blonde swimmer I knew of. MacKenzie Boyd was way too young, Rhonda Yara lived in Florida most of the year, and Brittney Powell was just not Hoseok’s type. That left Opal Simmons and Tove Alfson. They both lived in Colorado, both were fantastic swimmers, and both seemed like nice girls. Opal was the older of the two, so I was more inclined to believe that was who he was talking about, but this was all under the assumption that the girl was a professional swimmer.

“Do you remember Opal Simmons?”

I snorted. So I was right. Feeling good about myself, I nodded and told him that I did. She was pretty, but I remembered thinking she was unremarkable. She had been doing extremely well this season and swimming more than she ever had before. I had a good feeling about her run at this year’s Olympics. She had always swam in teams and this was her first time doing a solo season.

“How’d you meet her?” I asked, leaning against the metal railing across from the door.

“I went to go see Ozzie and she stopped by to talk to him for a few minutes. She took one look at me, smiled, and gave me her number. And you know I’m a sucker for a confident woman.”

“So you took her to the most expensive bar in Colorado Springs?” I joked.

Hoseok spluttered, “How’d you know about that?”

“Well international super spy,” I teased, “You blew your cover. Jin saw you and told Andy. Andy told me. I didn’t tell anybody.”

The swimmer groaned and I could not help but laugh at his expense. We were always like this. Teasing and joking around with one another. A few tender moments sprinkled in between. I remembered when people thought we were a couple simply because we were friends of the opposite sex, but I had never felt anything but sisterly love for the guy. We were always there for each other through thick and thin, and right now I was grateful for his crude sense of humor. Hoseok rarely took things seriously and I needed a bit of fun. It made my anxiety feel less scary.

“We had fun,” He defended. “She’s fucking awesome, man. You’re really going to like her. Next time you’re in town, bring your boy so we can go on a double date.”

“Will do.”

We had a momentary pause. That meant Hoseok was thinking. He tried to choose his words carefully when he was being serious, so I knew that meant we were going to actually start talking about the reason I called. He was far more easy going than I was, so I was sure Opal’s timidness did not bother him at all. I was the spaz of the group only being outdone by Andrea.

“Did he say why?” Hoseok finally asked.

I told him about what had happened this afternoon and the small moments before. The way he always stopped things before they could get any further. How kissing him sometimes felt like he was saying goodbye. How genuinely upset he was by my reaction to his constant pausing. Hoseok listened to everything before saying another word.

“Maybe he’s had something happen to him in the past,” Hoseok brought up. That was something I had not really considered before. “He just sounds a little scared and nervous. Not unwilling, just hesitant. You should talk to him about it. I mean really talk to him. That’s what I did with Opal and it made going at her pace seem less daunting.”

“So you don’t think I’m doing anything wrong?” I finally asked, voicing my fears from earlier. I could not tell Jimin that’s what I was afraid of, it felt too childish, but Hoseok was used to my ever present anxieties. “I really didn’t mean to invalidate him.”

Hoseok chuckled, “I think you’re doing just fine, babe. You just need to learn how to relax and let shit happen. He likes you. He told you he wants to have sex with you directly. Don’t let yourself ruin this, okay?”

I nodded, feeling a frog forming in my throat. It felt wrong to cry right now, but it was the most therapeutic way to handle how frustrated I was with myself. I was too old to act like this. Too strong and independent. This really should not hurt me the way that it does, and yet I could feel myself closing off again.

The door behind me opened and I startled, almost dropping my phone. Whipping around I saw Jimin standing there, no shirt and a pair of sweatpants hanging loosely around his hips. Dark hair a wild mess, he rubbed his eyes and tried his best to look more awake than he felt. My heart melted, some of the stress I felt moments before lessening. He was here. We were fine. I was just being overdramatic. I just needed to breathe.

“I have to get some sleep,” I told Hoseok, eyes never leaving Jimin’s body. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Talk to you then,” I hung up.

Jimin’s eyes searched my face and I could feel a few escaped tears on my cheeks. I felt small under his watchful gaze, but the gentleness in his eyes never wavered. I stood there stupidly, unable to move.

“Come back to bed,” His voice was soft. “I miss you.”

And because he made me behave like a good little lap dog, I crawled into that bed without protest. Pulling me into his arms, Jimin held me close and tight. I relaxed and let his body heat warm me up. I had not realized how cold I had gotten and shivered. Jimin kissed my nose and got comfortable.

“Don’t leave me,” He rasped, already falling back asleep. “Please?”

I almost cried again. He sounded so lost and defeated. Maybe Hoseok was right. Maybe something happened to him that made sex feel terrifying. What it could be I had no idea, but I hoped that with time he could help me understand. As desperately I wanted him to know me- I wanted to know him.

“I promise I won’t,” I whispered, kissing his chest.

His arms squeezed me gently before there was nothing but snores and the sound of the A/C in the room.

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

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[moodymisty]

Hello! I've never sent in a request before, so hopefully I'm doing this right? The Emperors Children and Fulgrim are really interesting in my humble opinion, so it'd be nice to see some content. Honestly something that is either really fluffy or just straight heart ache would be neat. Maybe the reader watching as the man she loves slowly becomes unrecognizable and debauched? I don't know anything really? I love your work! Thank you, and sorry if this is wrong, or request aren't open.

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author’s note: I’ve not written for Fulgrim yet, so let’s break that barrier shall we? Here’s a snippet.

Relationships: Fulgrim/Gn!Reader (I will warn that the word nightgown is used twice but other than that zero gendered terms)

Warnings: None really other than the implication of slanesshi corruption I guess, and the implication of Fulgrim once wanting to invite Konrad for a threesome lol

Fulgrim enters his bedchambers, his armor long since discarded and climbs into the bed softly; crawling over silken sheets and blankets to lay behind you. You lay on your side and he comes closer until his chest is against your back, his legs touching yours. One of his hands raises to cup your shoulder and push the fabric of nightgown aside. Exposing your skin so he can press his lips against your shoulder, he tenderly kisses upwards until he reaches the crook of your neck.

“You seem worried, my dear.”

You tilt your head to allow him access to continue, while your face morphs into hesitation.

You are worried, but you can’t say the reason why; Not the real one.

“I’m just… I'm worried about Konrad. After everything…” You quiet yourself, and pray that Fulgrim doesn’t catch you in a lie. Though it isn't one, at least not entirely.

“Konrad lays in a bed of his own making. Don’t worry about him so much. I said what needed to be said.” You don’t face him, so you don’t hold back your face of sadness and worry as much as you should.

Konrad… Despite all of his issues, has done nothing but trust Fulgrim and attempt to connect with him. The two were quite close; Konrad desperately wanted one of his fellow primarchs to not despise him on first impression.

He was even kind to you, in his own way. He never once intentionally hurt you.

For Fulgrim to shatter his trust like that, destroy the relationship they'd had for many years, he’s changed. It was the final instance you needed to admit it.

But who could you tell? His men are his own and vehemently loyal and even if Konrad was here, he wouldn’t have the ability to understand or even care about why you’re worried.

Ferrus however, would.

You felt horrifically guilty sending such a message behind your lover’s back. But Fulgrim's gradual changes worried you, you've watched him begin to morph into something else, and his closest brother might be the only one who would understand why. His reply is still burned into your mind when you’d briefly managed to tell him something was wrong with Fulgrim without him or any of his Emperor's Children knowing.

When you return to Terra, I will send one of my men to fetch you quietly. Then you can explain yourself to me in private.

You can only hope Ferrus will hear your worries about Fulgrim and see what you mean, rather than cast you as insane. Though knowing him, the mere fact that he’s going to hear you out lets you know he already has his own suspicions.

But before you can sink any further into your own thoughts, Fulgrim's sonorous voice pulls you from them as his fingertips glide across your skin.

“My love, are you still acting so glum?”

His lips tickle the nape of your neck, a hand on your thigh pushing up your nightgown.

“Sorry, I…” Fulgrim laughs, fingertips tickling your inner thighs. You don’t know why it makes you feel a bit nauseous.

“You’re still thinking about Curze, aren’t you?” You nod and agree, if only to make sure he doesn’t get suspicious of you. He lets out a gentle chuckle.

“I’d rather you not think of him while I’m doing this unless he’s already in the room, my love.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. Fulgrim had mentioned a few times about letting Konrad into your bedroom, but you know the Night Haunter would never speak to Fulgrim again. He's long gone; Whatever friendship they had is nothing but ash beneath Fulgrim's boots. And he couldn't seem to care less.

But Fulgrim doesn’t think that, think about how he’s destroyed his relationships one by one while you watched on; He’s too focused on your body and his own.

“Relax. Stop thinking about those pointless things, and let me touch you.”

[wntrs0ldier]

An Offer · part 02

pairing: mob!bucky x reader words: 3,4k warnings: typical mafia (dark themes, language, violence, etc.), Brock Rumlow

<previous part | next part> | series masterlist

series summary: When your father dies, the only thing you can do for your family and the empire he built, is to marry a powerful man.

chapter sneak peek: Bucky’s jaw tightened, his nostrils flared, and his chest grew bigger as he took a deep breath through the nose. His mouth curved into a bitter smile. He stared at Brock for a while longer, then moved away, as if he intended to leave you two alone.

On your way to a meeting with Brock Rumlow and his father, you wondered what it would cost you to jump out of a moving car. Would something like that be worse than marrying Brock and becoming part of his Family? The Family, which was mainly in the business of prostitution and drugs? Actually, drugs were an issue that you tolerated. But the vision of a relationship – arranged or not – with a pimp made you nauseous.

And all you knew about Brock was that he was hot-tempered, impulsive and aggressive, but this wasn’t uncommon among gangsters. 

You also remembered what Bucky said.

Do you honestly believe Brock Rumlow will hold up his part of the deal? Did you forget his relationship with women or are you just going to overlook it?

“Try to keep an open mind.” You heard Michael. The sound of his voice managed to stop the chaos in your head. “James can be persuasive and thinks he knows everything. But remember he is not in your situation and never will be, so try not to turn against me. Focus on the welfare of the Family.”

You restrained yourself from snorting at his words. Focusing on the welfare of the Family and business had become one big headache for you – it was giving you sleepless nights, eating you alive, and Michael was asking you for more. You were already tired, stressed and sick to your stomach. 

The car stopped outside the pub that Rumlows had proposed for a meeting, and as soon as the engine was turned off, and you realised the seriousness of the situation and how close you were to it, you felt an overpowering sense of anxiety and panic. Your breathing became uneven, the inside of your hands damp with sweat. 

You jumped uneasily as the driver opened the door for you.

“I need a moment.” You were able to focus enough to make your voice sound normal, and the words left your mouth almost flawlessly. “I’ll just fix my makeup.” 

Being alone in the car was somehow helping, but you still couldn't bring yourself to exit the vehicle – that step led straight to a meeting with Brock Rumlow.

“What is going on?” You heard a muffled voice that belonged to neither Michael nor the driver, so you looked up at the side window. Bucky was standing just by the car door, he wasn't speaking to you but to Michael. 

“She wanted a few minutes for herself.” 

Frowning, Bucky looked inside the car through the window, and you could easily see the confusion in his eyes. For a moment, you just looked at each other – you with pure mess in your head, and he as if trying to read your mind from the expression on your face. He grabbed the handle, and a refreshing spring air burst inside the car.

“Hey,” Bucky spoke gently, leaning towards you. “You okay?”

“I-” you gasped. Closing your eyes, you took the biggest possible breath you could afford right now. “I'm not sure I want to go there.”

Bucky stared at you in silence, a pained concern spreading across his face. He clenched his jaw.

“I’m sorry,” you continued in a trembling voice. “I don't normally get all-... like that. I’m not a child,” you were babbling mindlessly, fearing that otherwise he would have thought you were a spoiled hysteric.

“I know,” Bucky said immediately, cutting off your train of thought. “Listen…” he began with a hesitation. He let out a quiet sigh and wetted his lips. “We go there and it'll all be over soon. You don’t have to make any decisions yet,” he stated. “I'll be there the whole time. And I won't let anyone hurt you. Alright?” His voice was soft, delicate, but firm and decisive at the same time. “We’ll get out of there anytime you want, huh?”

The longer you stared at Bucky's face, the less anxious you felt. You genuinely believed you would be safe with him. You didn't have the head to wonder why you trusted him implicitly at that moment, but one thought automatically came to you – you needed someone like him in that situation; someone who didn't pressure you. 

You nodded, and Bucky smiled. He seemed to relax a little, as if a wave of relief had spread through his body.

“I don’t want to be late.” You sounded weak, embarrassed by the scene from a moment ago. But it looked like Bucky was pretending not to see anything.

“They set the meeting in a pub,” he said with a disapproval that was not far from disgust. “Make them wait.” 

Brock greeted you with a smile that faded as soon as Bucky entered the building. Rumlow Senior did a much better job of hiding his displeasure, but still watched him with caution. Bucky, on the other hand, seemed to be completely calm. Bored even.

Brock invited you to a booth, where you and Michael took a seat. Brock and his father sat opposite, and Bucky grabbed a chair from another table and moved it a little closer.

“Seriously,” Brock finally spoke up, indicating impatience. “What's this clown doing here?”

“You don’t know what clowns do, Brock?” Bucky answered. “They make people smile.” He reached for the knife attached to his belt. “Wanna try? I can give you one.”

You watched Bucky and your mouth went dry. You thought it was inappropriate, to say the least – you were sitting in front of, presumably, your future husband, but it was someone else who made you need to wet your throat and collect your thoughts. You had an unclear sense of how Bucky was affecting you, but you told yourself that any handsome man would make a similar impression on you. And Bucky was just that. Beautiful with his blue, sad eyes, nose perfect in every way, and pink, plump lips. Well-built as far as your eyesight could reach. He smelled nice; not as strong and overwhelming as the men you usually came into contact with. And his hair must have been really soft to touch…

Shaking your head to get rid of these thoughts, you reached for the glass of ice water standing in front of you. You stuck your guilt-filled gaze into the table top and dipped your lips into the cold, refreshing liquid.

Michael cleared his throat. “We should get to business.”

The beginning of the conversation was similar to what you had already heard that night when Timothy Barnes turned up at your house. You all knew what the deal was supposed to be about, but Michael had been going over it from the start – he wanted to make sure that there were no misunderstandings, and that the Rumlow Family would not actually use the agreement against yours.

You wondered why Brock didn't interfere; why he didn't have questions, didn't ask for correction or clarification of any issue. And when you glanced at him you noticed that he was looking at you in a way that made you even more nauseous. You couldn't compare it to the situation when John Walker was watching you. Although he was doing it inappropriately, it wasn't harmful. Brock, on the other hand, had something so rejecting and disgusting in his look that you would rather have disappeared out of his sight.

We’ll get out of there anytime you want.

Having remembered Bucky's words, you turned your gaze to him. Yet Bucky wasn’t focusing on you. Running his fingertip over the blunt side of the knife, he stared at Brock.

“How much exactly is there to take over?” Rumlow Senior asked.

“Well…” Michael sighed heavily. “An art gallery, two casinos; one here, the other in Atlantic City, three real estates, shares in the stock market, arms dealing for Mr. Anthony Stark…” he listed for formality; most of the Mafia community knew about each of these things. Except for the location of the real estates Michael had mentioned. “The territory of all activities, the protection of businesses in that area. And political influence.” He took off his glasses and wiped them with a handkerchief from his jacket. “As long as, of course, you take care of such friends,” he told Brock. “And I must admit that we would prefer to maintain good relationships with them.”

“Cross out the gallery,” you said. “It belongs to me only, and I decide what happens to it.” You seemed surprisingly assertive to everyone in the room, and when you noticed the perplexed looks on both Rumlows’ faces, you forced a falsely sweet smile. 

“If that's your only condition…” Brock replied.

“Not really,” Bucky interjected, casually scratching his back with the knife he had played with earlier. “Y/N will have a full view of what is happening with the things she owns. I'm talking about casinos and everything else,” he clarified blandly. “And one hundred percent decision-making in major changes.”

You glanced uneasily at Bucky. Since you had no idea about running your father's business, you didn't need all this. But you understood his strategy – Bucky wanted to secure you against Brock. 

Brock clenched his fists and took a deep breath. Looking at him, you thought involuntarily of a bull provoked by a red rag. “What's all this? A fucking prenup?”

Rumlow Senior put his hand on Brock’s shoulder. “Of course,” He smiled mysteriously, ignoring his son's anger. “Miss Y/N will have total control over her father's business. Provided that a male descendant is born within one year of the marriage.”

You were prepared to hear this. However, it seemed to you that Rumlow Senior had maliciously taken advantage of this condition because you and Bucky had got under his skin. 

“Write down your version of the agreement, we will do the same,” Michael broke the brief silence, his voice monotone. “We’ll compare both versions and reach the final one.”

Brock offered you something to drink, and hoping to still see something in him that would make the arrangement less painful, you agreed. Michael and Rumlow Senior stayed in the booth; it didn't bother you that they could have already started discussing points of the possible agreement. Bucky was sitting right next to them and you knew he would have intervened on your behalf. What you didn't know was why he was doing it. You didn't even have any grounds to guess, but you decided to go with the assumption that he wanted you in his debt.

You stood at the bar. Although the pub was closed, the bartender was behind the counter, ready to take your order.

“What are you drinking?” Brock asked. “To celebrate our new friendship?” He sized you up in a way that he probably thought was discreet. 

You didn't want to celebrate anything. You needed to numb yourself out.

“Tequila?” You smiled with pursed lips. 

Brock nodded at the bartender, and the man placed two small glasses and a full bottle on the counter, then poured the alcohol. You grabbed one of the glasses and consumed its content in one steady tilt. The fire burning your throat briefly distracted you from the situation you found yourself in. Grimacing, you slid the glass back to the bartender, who filled it without a word.

“That prenup, you know…” Brock started, taking a step closer to you. “You could've just asked nicely. And I would give you everything you want.” He shrugged. You didn't believe a word he said. But if he actually spoke sincerely, you guessed what he meant by ‘asking nicely’. “You didn't have to bring Barnes here to get it done for you. I'm even a bit discouraged now, to be honest.”

There was a sense of distaste in your mouth that you needed to wash away with another shot of tequila.

“You’re right. Sorry,” you said with insincere remorse, and only did so because it was some way of getting out of this confrontation alive. You believed that if you behaved submissively enough, Brock would leave you alone. But, actually, you felt like laughing. Yes, Brockie, you thought. You’re a genius; so smart, so perfect. And a fucking prick. 

“On second thought… You can still ask nicely. I will listen to you in private, what about that?” He moved even closer to you. One of Brock's hands found its way to your hip. Immediately the other followed, and before you knew what was actually happening, Brock was pressing you against his body.

“Take your hands off me, please.” There was no panic in your voice, just patience. 

“Why?” He didn't even pretend to be surprised by your request. “Don't you think we should get to know each other better? We don't have much time. I mean, only a year? Minus nine months or whatever,” he added, and it sounded much more disgusting than you could've imagined.

“Get your fucking hands off her, Rumlow, or I’ll break them.”

You didn't even notice when Bucky appeared nearby. The anger, although controlled, was still visible on his face. And it seemed entirely justified to you – Bucky had warned you and Michael about Brock from the very beginning.

Rumlow stepped back reluctantly. “What's the big deal? We are almost married!”

“Do you remember signing anything, Brock? Huh?” Bucky said with apparent calm. “Maybe you do because coke has fried your fucking brain.” 

Trying to intimidate him, Brock stood right in front of Bucky. But Bucky turned out to be unfazed by it. 

“It will happen. Sooner or later, ‘cause there’s no more profitable candidate on the market, and you know that,” Brock muttered. “And sooner rather than later I’m going to fuck her.” He nodded in your direction. “But don't worry, we'll name our first son James. Or maybe not, since that name seems to bring bad luck. I already know one James who put his daddy in a grave.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened, his nostrils flared, and his chest grew bigger as he took a deep breath through the nose. His mouth curved into a bitter smile. He stared at Brock for a while longer, then moved away, as if he intended to leave you two alone.

“That’s right, Buck. Stay out of it.” Brock turned back to you. “Where were we?” He licked his lips. 

He didn't manage to get close to you again. Two hands landed on his shoulders and jerked with such force that Brock fell onto a nearby table. Before he had a chance to do something, Bucky came at him, taking a couple heavy steps. With one hand, he grabbed his shirt and held him in place; with the fist of the other, he punched him in the face hard enough to make Brock stagger again. This, however, enraged him enough to regain some control – Brock attacked Bucky, and he took that gladly.

They exchanged a few blows; Bucky aimed his nimbly and precisely, Brock seemed to strike blindly. And that's probably why he ended up on the floor, with Bucky's shoe print on his dark T-shirt.

Brock was catching his breath and Bucky observed his work, but he didn't finish it off. He stood more or less in the same place from which he had pushed Brock. 

You enjoyed it. A lot. It wasn't necessarily about Brock getting what he deserved, but the spectacle itself. Men punching each other – the kind of violence you loved in some twisted way, especially when there was alcohol running through your veins.

Michael and Rumlow Senior were also watching the whole scene. Neither of them intended to react, and both looked as if they were witnessing a fight between two teenagers too young to control their anger and raging hormones. 

“Hey…” You turned to the bartender. “Can I get a cloth and some ice?”

Rumlow whispered something to Michael, then helped his son up. “Let’s go, you-” he growled, his mouth set in a hard line. Michael left the pub behind them, presumably to smooth things over.

The bartender placed a clean cloth and a glass filled with ice cubes on the counter. You poured them onto the cloth and folded it, making a cold compress. 

When Bucky appeared at the bar, you glanced at him without saying a word. Although the redness stretching from his temple to his cheekbone was quite clear to see, you carefully studied his entire face, trying to find something else there. You weren't sure what exactly, but you were somehow satisfied to notice in his eyes traces of cooled anger slowly turning to consternation.

Again, Bucky was allowing you to come into wordless contact with him, so without any resistance you lowered your gaze to his right hand, resting loosely on the surface of the counter. His knuckles looked much worse than his face, but it didn't surprise you – he threw more punches than he took. 

As you looked up at his face, you caught his eyes. They were bored into you.

“Are you going to say anything?” he asked, breaking the silence between you.

“If it was about me, I would say it wasn't the smartest thing you could have done,” you answered, reaching for the prepared compress. You enjoyed the show, but you were worried Bucky had gotten himself into trouble because of that, and it was your fault.

You lifted the compress to his face and pressed it to the side, and he didn't even blink. 

“Well, it was about you,” he threw out casually, without making the slightest effort to convince you that this was indeed the case. 

“Sure,” You pressed the compress harder, making Bucky wince slightly. 

“I’m sorry. I’m being snarky,” he sighed.

“It’s okay. You got every right to be angry,” you claimed. “Brock shouldn’t have brought up your dad like that.” 

“You’re right,” Bucky agreed, his voice bland once again. “I could have punched him earlier. Before he even started talking’.”

You smiled slightly and tilted your head, looking at him with the least believable disapproval there was.

“How's your pain?” you asked softly, nodding at his hand. 

Bucky looked at it too, then lifted it off the counter, bent and stretched his fingers. “It’s nothing,” he stated, although you could see that the bloody wounds were making him uncomfortable.

The door of the pub slammed, so you both instinctively looked in that direction. You've never seen Michael so annoyed before.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” he scolded Bucky. “Do you have any idea what you just did? Now I have to somehow convince the Rumlows not to give up on us.”

“For what?” Bucky bit back. “To sell your protege to these fu-”

“Watch your tone.”

“Michael,” you began. You intended not only to express your opinion, but also to give Bucky some space; to take Michael off of his back. “You don’t have to convince the Rumlows to anything.”

Michael raised his eyebrows. “How come?”

“Well…” you hesitated, nibbling on your bottom lip. You were aware that he was trying to save your father's life's work, and you weren't making it any easier for him. But it was time to face the truth – Brock was the worst possible candidate. “I don’t think my marriage with Brock will work out. Rumlow Senior doesn’t want to cooperate, he just wants more power. And Brock couldn’t care less about business.” In reality, you had no idea if it was actually the truth. But some gut instinct told you to plant a seed of doubt in Michael. 

And you knew you had succeeded – Michael was silent, considering something.

“All right,” he said. “I will contact Rumlow Senior one last time. If they agree to our terms, we will meet with them again. If they demand more, no deal will be done.”

The situation wasn't ideal, but at least you had bought yourself some time.

“And one more thing,” Michael added. “This is the last meeting you attended.” He looked at Bucky. “Whether it's Brock or any other candidate, I don't want to see you. I will not accept you messing with Y/N's head. I want you to stay away from her. Is that clear?” 

At first glance, Bucky seemed unmoved. But there was something in his eyes – something strikingly similar to the way he looked at Brock before he came at him. 

“Is that clear, Mr. Barnes?”

“Yeah. I heard you the first time,” Bucky answered. He headed to the door, and without saying a word, or at least glimpsing at you, left the pub.

taglist:  @goldensunflowe-r @nefri-black @vickie5446

[lacrimosathedark]

As an acespec person who is likely some kind of arospec too, Alastor ships give me mixed feelings.

Like, I'm extremely uncomfortable with people really sexualizing Alastor, especially in art. It feels...gross. At the same time, I see people staunchly against people shipping Alastor in any way that's not platonic, which...makes me frustrated.

Look, he is canonically ace, but 1. asexuality has levels, 2. Alastor has no idea what ace means, and 3. words are stupid.

I had no idea I was nonbinary or ace as a kid. I knew how I felt, but I thought it was within the range of "normal". I thought I was "just a person" and "a romantic". I thought I was "picky", and that's why everyone was having crushes while I was chill by myself or with friends. I thought maybe I was scared at the idea of being that vulnerable with someone as someone with anxiety, trust issues, and who grew up falling asleep to Law and Order SVU. And I'm a Zillenial.

Alastor is from a whole other century, in a much more repressive society. If I today needed the internet to figure out that my experience is abnormal and there's a word for it, back when the internet wasn't a thing and queer circles were trying to hide from sight, how the fuck is he gonna know? Especially when he loathes seemingly anything that's past his time, which the concept isn't but the term is as is the way he might find out about it. Fuck, we know he doesn't know what ace means.

He also has no reason to seek out an answer. I wasn't looking when I found my answers. I stumbled upon people who shared experiences who had words that clicked with me. Hell, it'd be easier to think it's normal with how much "waiting until marriage" has been historically pushed. He doesn't know there's even something to look for.

In all likelihood, he thought the "right person" might come along someday, but he also had other priorities and didn't care if he found them or not. Why would I go searching for a love I may never find when I can spend my time focusing on my career, dancing with friends, and plotting various murders? That sounds like a lot more fun and a more effective use of time, wouldn't you agree?

And look, in general "finding the right person" isn't a "cure" for asexuality anyway. Except it can look like that on the surface if someone is anything other than 100% sex-repulsed asexual. And (allos writing aces don't seem to know this) sex-repulsion can also be very spectrum-y too, and actively fluctuate.

I'm demisexual, and would actually consider myself sex-repulsed. I have never liked viewing sexual images or videos, it makes me borderline nauseous. I absolutely will not read pure smut. The concept of engaging in sexual activity myself makes me cringe. To me, sex generally brings to mind too much physical contact and gross bodily fluids. I'm disgusted by even getting other peoples' sweat on me. I'm okay listening to friends talk about their interactions only to a limited extent--I need to be able to have distance and not be given extreme detail.

But if I think about someone I actually like, or if I'm reading a story that has had a buildup in the relationship, it's...nice. It's a very different experience. It seems less like too much touch and gross bodily fluids and more like intimacy. It's...I'd almost call it pleasant? It's hard to describe, but it's a complete shift in mindset depending on circumstances. Most of my inherent reflexive disgust just goes away.

There's a chance Alastor could be like that. He is, quite clearly, some kind of sex-repulsed (thank you Angel Dust) but that doesn't completely block him out of sexual interest. But Angel is...excessive about that side of his personality. And that could be part of why the repulsion seems so strong with him. There are levels of tolerance. I can watch Hazbin Hotel and Angel Dust, but I can't comfortably watch Helluva Boss because the first episode Stolas is...very explicit. It's just too uncomfortable for me to sit through. (this also isn't a judgement of whether it's a good show or not, it's just not for me)

And even if Alastor doesn't experience attraction, he could still have sexual engagement with someone for other reasons. I don't think we have solid confirmation that he's aro, but even then that is again a spectrum and Alastor has no inkling on the concept.

He could involve himself in sex because he has romantic feelings for someone and that outweighs his disgust. Or perhaps even intense platonic feelings, disconnecting the act of sex from romance entirely. QPPs can do anything they want and honestly I feel like those labels are super blurry anyways, because what denotes an action as romantic or sexual or platonic besides intent and perception? Like, friends can cuddle, happy lovers can sleep in separate beds, people joke about kissing the homies good night. Words are messy and nothing matters.

He could also use it as a manipulation tactic. Because if there's one thing we know about Alastor, it's that he's a manipulative little shit. And while the reward would need to be extremely high, I could see Alastor using someone's attraction to him against them in that way. Why would he not use every tool at his disposal?

And from personal experience, a lot of writing in the fandom is through the lens of Alastor being non-sex-repulsed asexual, or otherwise demi- or greysexual. And while I could definitely use more fluidity in the sex-repulsion category (cuz unfortunately a lot of people write it as either completely repulsed or not repulsed whatsoever), at least a good number of people are trying to be respectful. Just because they ship Alastor with someone doesn't mean they are being disrespectful or casting aside his orientation by default.

And while Alastor being enthusiastic about it is extremely ooc and I hate that with my very soul, people are allowed to play with fictional characters how they want to. They aren't real. Neither are the Barbies whose faces you smashed together as a kid. They aren't actively hurting real people, and don't necessarily think differently of real ace people.

I'm aware that I may be projecting my sexuality onto Alastor given that he has shown sex-repulsion that I relate to. Maybe I think the idea of him being romantically involved with someone is cute. Maybe I don't mind the idea of him doing sexual things for love or other personal gain like power or control. But who the fuck am I hurting by doing that? Who is anyone hurting by doing that?

And dude, you're watching a show about redeeming sinners, showing that some of the worst people can change and puritanical people are irrationally judgemental asshats. Someone portraying an ace character as not 100% sex-repulsed is a weird line to draw there.

If you're a 100% sex repulsed asexual who's uncomfortable with people shipping Alastor, that's perfectly fine. But not every asexual completely shares your experience, and life itself is uncomfortable. And for better or worse that isn't going to change. I suggest you simply avoid engaging as much as you can for your own peace of mind if nothing else. Blocking tags and accounts is actually great for that. Someone doesn't have to be a dick for you to block them, and you won't have to see their content anymore. Tumblr Savior is a helpful tool too.

This is my very longwinded way of saying just because Alastor is aroace doesn't mean he can't be in a romantic-coded relationship, a qpp that isn't specifically stated to be such, or engage in sexual acts. And writing him ooc is icky but also completely fine and people can do what they want.

[hyunnieshannie]

EX

Chapter 2: A person you can date, not marry.

Pairing: Han Jisung x Fem. Reader

Word Count: 5,179

General Synopsis: Your ex? Shitty. Your family? Worse. Your best friend? Left for a tour in the middle of one of the worst times of your life. How are you meant to deal with planning what should have been your wedding, dealing with your family, and pretending like you're not falling apart all on your own?

General Warnings: Idol!Jisung, mentions of other Idols (P1Harmony/Seventeen), all views on these idols are purely fictional. Idol AU. Mentions of cheating, mentions of smoking and drug use (weed and cigarettes), Mentions of drinking, angst, self esteem issues, depression. Y/N is older than Jisung. (I'm sorry for the jokes that come out of this) (any tags I missed please feel free to let me know! More tags to be added as the story goes on.)

→ A/N: Welcome back to 'EX' I hope you guys enjoy this second part <3 I will be creating a full master list for all fics soon, thank you guys for your patience. I've had a random run for this story, and it's been taking up space in my head so I just HAD to get it out there! Please enjoy <3 ALSO if you would like to be added to the tag list for this series please don't be shy to message me any time <3

PREVIOUS ꕀ❀ꕀ SERIES MASTER LIST ꕀ❀ꕀ NEXT

The lunch for the most part went well, the boys discussing their future plans with their respective groups. Meanwhile you spent most of your time staring at your phone at the hundreds of incoming texts from Leah. 

We should start planning right away! ~Leaaah

Sure.~Y/N

I'm so excited! ~Leaaah

I’m sure, it’s a huge event. ~Y/N

For the bachelorette party, I only have like 3 friends, maybe Stepheee can invite some of the girls from his company! ~Leaaah

You sigh at the message, Leah still hasn't made any of her own friends; and now she expects your friends to invite idols to her bachelorette party. 

“Is she fucking serious?” Taeyang mutters, you turn to him seeing now that he’d been peeking over reading your messages. It was a normal occurrence, whenever you’d be on your phone he’d usually look over at what you were doing. It never bothered you, you had nothing to hide. Surely he had expected to see you scrolling through instagram or twitter, looking at memes or something music related, but not this. 

Keeho was quick in snatching your phone, and reading over the messages. Intak leaned close to him as he also read through them. “Fuck, no.” Keeho says bitterly, “Not happening,” 

“Three friends is fine for a party, why does she specifically want random girls at her party?” Intak asks, Jisung who sat there confused looks between the three of you. 

“Because Leah is an all out kind of person, she wants a big huge party for everything.” Keeho sighs, as he scrolls through your other messages, “If she wants a celebrity party she can ask Jeonghan, why should I ask girls from my company to go? Her fiance should be forcing her to make friends, not me.” her fiance. Echoed through your mind, 

 “Wait what, Jeonghan is getting married?” Jisung says through a bite of his sandwich, 

“Yeah, to Y/N’s sister.” Intak says quietly, Jisung stares back at him as he processes the information, 

“I thought he was single? Didn’t he like, just get out of a four year relationship?” Jisung asks, placing his sandwich back down on its plate and looking directly at you,

“Five years actually,” you whisper, Jisung looks at you confused as the table falls silent, Keeho still eagerly reading through your messages.

“You fucking agreed?” Keeho scoffs, disappointment written across his face, “Why would you agree to be her maid of honor Y/N!” 

“Well what was I supposed to do Kee? She’s my sister!” you fiddle with your fork poking at the salad in front of you, your hunger completely dissipated from the stress, causing your stomach to twist leaving you feeling nauseous. Jisung opens his mouth to speak but is immediately interrupted by Keeho who seems to be angrier than you are at this moment.

“You’re supposed to say ‘No sorry I don’t feel like helping you organize your wedding with my ex’ and leave it at that!” Keeho exclaims, you know he had a point but your morals of ‘Family first’ would never allow you to do such a thing, 

 “Wait one more second, you’re his ex?” you nod at him as he stares at you wide eyed, great now he knows about my miserable love life. “And now he’s marrying your sister?” his words burn into your brain, engraved there now and probably for the rest of your life. “And she wants Keeho to do what exactly?” 

“Invite girls from our company to go to her bachelorette party.” Intak sighs, “I feel used.” 

“YOU feel used? I’ve known Leah all her life, and now she’s asking me to introduce her to idols? She can ask her fiance if she wants that, but I will not be doing it.” 

“Guys. We said we weren’t gonna talk about this.” Taeyang says as he reaches his arm across your shoulders pulling you in. You rest your head on his shoulder, as he lightly pats you. “Lets just enjoy our outing okay?” They quickly come to an agreement of not speaking of it but as you reach over to grab your phone Keeho pulls it further away. 

“You’re not getting this back.” 

“Kee, give it.”

“No. You’re gonna keep reading the messages, and make yourself sad.” He says matter-of-factly, once more the tension around the table is thick and the air is heavy as the boys all sit in silence. Keeho stares deeply into your phone as it vibrates again, his body language giving every indication that he was close to snapping on Leah. Jisung notices it quickly, and pulls the phone straight out of his hands. Keeho stares at him absolutely shocked at the action, one he didn’t expect out of Jisung who typically stayed out of situations that were none of his business. 

“Neither of you are getting it.” He says confidently, “You, as Keeho says will get sad, and you” he says pointing at Keeho, “You will only get angrier, and I personally, would like to see everyone smiling.” Keeho rolls his eyes at him, knowing what he said was true but he would still like a moment to yell at Leah. That moment would have to wait until later. ꕀ❀ꕀ

The five of you finish your food quickly, and make your way out of the building, walking down the street. You could hear your phone vibrating in Jisungs pocket and a part of you wanted to sneakily reach for it, but Taeyang had his hold on you, walking with his arm on your shoulder as Intak walked on the other side of you. “Jesus,” Jisung mutters as he pulls your phone out of his pocket, quickly turning it off. “I have an idea.” 

“Say it.” Intak says, 

“The JYP building is a block over that way,” he points in the direction of the building, “Let's go there for a second.” 

“To do what?” Intak questions, 

“Y/N hasn’t been to any of the company buildings Ji, you might overwhelm her with a tour.” Taeyang says, 

“Not for a tour, something else.” Jisung turns quickly, walking in the direction of his company's building, the rest of you following closely behind. The tension never did die down from the restaurant and everyone walked silently for the most part. Jisung walked while texting, who? No one knew. His phone rings loudly as you all arrive in front of the large building, “Hey,” he says into it, “Yeah we’re here come down.” The five of you waited in the lobby for whoever it was that called Jisung. The silence deafening as you all stood awkwardly, the sound of an elevator rings through the lobby effectively cutting through the silence. 

“Ji, I thought you weren’t coming in today.” An accented voice calls, Bang Chan, and behind him stood Hyunjin who just stared at your group. “See you later Jinnie.” Chan waves to him as he nods politely walking out of the building, 

“I’m not,” Jisung turns to Keeho, holding out his hand, “Phone. Now.” 

“What? No.” 

“If Y/N isn’t allowed to have her phone neither are we.” Jisung says flatly, Taeyang reaches into his pocket first slapping down his phone on Jisung’s hand, quickly followed by Intak, Keeho still hesitating to hand his over. 

“What if we need to call for help or something?” 

“I’ll have mine then.” 

“How is that fair?” 

“Because all of you have a connection to Y/N’s sister and I don't, therefore she won’t be bothering me, or any of you today.” 

“Ji? What is this?” Chan asks, 

“This is a phone free day with friends is what it is,” Jisung was serious about this, he was witnessing all of his friends becoming angry and hurt, and you who he’d only just met seemed to be taking it better than the three boys who claimed to be your bodyguards.

 The night before as he hung out with Intak and Taeyang, Keeho had called Taeyang. He had placed the phone on speaker as Keeho spoke of how you’d needed a distraction, how your depression would surely come back if they didn’t do anything. He had listened attentively as Intak claimed that as your (self proclaimed) bodyguard he’d make sure ‘he’ wouldn’t ever get to you again. At the time Jisung hadn’t realized that the ‘he’ in his statement had been Jeonghan.

He watched Taeyang’s face drop the second he heard you were sad, and though he felt deep inside he was intruding on a private conversation; he knew that he’d be able to understand how you felt. With his own experiences in these matters he felt he could help. So without any doubt, he had spoken out loud letting Keeho know he was present at the time, asking if Keeho would mind if he tagged along. Jisung’s impulsive need to help someone in need had taken over. He was prepared to meet one of Keeho’s friends, because if Intak, Keeho, and Taeyang had claimed you as their, (in their words) ‘seventh member’ then of course you were a good person, and good people deserve good things. 

Keeho had agreed, assuming the day would go as he planned without mention of what had happened that night, and because Keeho also had a favor to ask of Jisung, one he thought of at that moment while on the phone. 

“What if I agree to the favor you asked of me?” Jisung says under his breath, hoping for you not to hear him. Keeho sighs, placing his phone on the top of the pile. Jisung quickly turns to Chan and hands them all to him with a small, nervous smile. “Keep these safe for me will ya?”

“So you’ll do it?” Keeho says, 

“If it makes the six of you feel better then yes,” Jisung says.

“What are you two whispering about, what favor?” you ask, the two look at you. Jisung is calm. While Keeho looked panicked, 

“Nothing, just something I agreed to help with.” Jisung says as he looks at Chan who also looks concerned. 

“This isn’t gonna affect the boys is it?” Chan asks, 

“Well it won’t affect Felix, Minho, Seungmin or Jeongin,” Jisung smirks, 

“So it will affect me?” 

“Probably not, we’ll talk later about it ok? I was gonna do it tonight, but- desperate times ya know?” Chan nods, as he clutches the phones. You ponder what the favor Keeho could have asked of Jisung but it really was none of your business, what the boys did in their free time. So you dropped the question quickly. Chan looks to you as you stood there being held tightly by Taeyang, 

“Your girlfriend Theo?” he smirks, 

“Y/N unnie?” Taeyang asks, sounding almost grossed out, “NO! Of course not she-” you rip away from his grasp; looking at him with the most offended expression you could muster. 

“Tell me why you sounded grossed out right now!” you say hitting him lightly but hard enough for him to feel it, he guards himself quickly in attempts to save himself from your attack.

“Wait, Y/N stop hitting me, I'm sorry!” he pleads for his life as you hit him, “I just meant that you’re like, our best friend! No one has ever asked that before Y/N I swear I wasn’t grossed out!” you continue hitting him as he laughs,  he quickly runs behind Chan using him as a human shield, as you walk towards the pair prepared to attack him once more, 

“You sounded offended! Am I really that bad!” you say, “No, NO! You’re great I just, it's just- its- not you it's me!” Taeyang gave his best acting, as he let the words fall from his mouth, ever so cheeky as you gave him nothing but a ‘death stare’

“You’re not my favorite anymore.” 

“Y/N don’t do this! You can’t take that title from me!” 

“I already have!” you huff as you cross your arms, turning your head away dramatically. Jisung giggled as he watched the interaction, happy that all of you were at least talking and laughing now.

“Who could ever replace me?” Taeyang pouts as he comes out of hiding, grabbing you to hug you but you pull away from his reach leaving him confused, a sew stammering words leaving his lips as he searched for something to say within his brain, 

“Call Soul and tell him he’s been upgraded to best boy.” you smirk, Taeyang drops to his knees in true soap opera fashion, staring up at the ceiling dramatically. 

“How could you replace me with Soul Y/N! Please, I'll be better!” he cries out, but you turn further away from him  “Chan what have you done! Why would you ask me that!” 

“My bad, you two just looked close!” Chan giggles, 

“H-How’s it his fault, you sounded so offended! Your face when he said it, I-” Intak says between heavy breaths, clutching his stomach as he laughs loudly, crouching as tears from laughing too hard stream down from his eyes. Keeho stabilized himself against the wall as his laughing fit took over his ability to stand, “Wait!” Intak yells out, “YOU’D CALL SOUL BEFORE UPGRADING MY TITLE?” he pouts at you, giving you large puppy dog eyes. “I- I knew you never loved me!” 

“Shut up!” you laugh as you bring him into a hug, Taeyang looking at you as if you’d betrayed him as he watched you hug Intak. The laughter dies down, as the boys catch their breaths, Chan and Jisung giggling between themselves at the whole dramatic ordeal. “Anyways sorry,” you say as you wipe your tears away, “My name is Y/N” you extend your hand to Chan who takes it in a firm grip shaking it, 

“Christopher but call me Chan or Channie or Chris honestly whatever works, it’s nice to meet you Y/N. I’ve heard good things” he offers you a warm smile. Meeting Chan felt like a dream, the music major in you jumped with pure excitement at the idea of meeting the man that worked on the very songs you loved to sing to. Sure Jisung was also a part of that team, but you were no lyricist. You are a producer, and Chan embodied every aspect of a true producer. Chan was one of the people you looked up to, often watching his streams and replaying parts where he’d come up with some new beat. Only later to hear it in one of their songs, you admired his work ethics, and how he could quickly make the back track to a song while sitting on a live stream with thousands of fans clawing for his attention, begging for just one small interaction from him to read their comments. You could appreciate how he both joked, and occasionally flirted with the fans while also staying focused on his task. Multi-tasking was not one of your strong suits. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what the room would feel like if he didn’t have the distractions of his adoring fans. You had many questions about it all, what equipment he used, if he preferred to work in silence or with light music playing, what kind of mixing console he used. What was it like working with seven other people each having their own style. You had heard their solo songs on youtube, and it fascinated you how different each person was. Yet how well organized they were as the group he formed. He had chosen them all, hand picked them for his own reasons and managed to create a unique sounding group. They weren’t some group that a company cherry picked and placed together, no. They were all different, with so many bold personalities, and for that you respected them, you respected him.

“You have?” 

“Yeah, those three don’t shut up about you,” he nods to your favorite three idiots, before looking back to you, “I hope to see one of your famous car performances live, one day! The video Keeho sent, of you singing Cheese was quite entertaining,” he chuckles, your face burns red, as you slowly turn to the three boys who now stood looking at you in panic, 

“Y/N…” Keeho says as he raises his hands, “Let us explain-”  

“You took a video!” you say as you step towards them, “And then sent it to people?!” 

“Run.” Intak says, as the three of them turn sprinting out of the building, so quickly it almost looked cartoonish, it reminded you of how Shaggy would run from ghosts in Scooby-Doo, a stuttering step before he actually took off running. 

“I’m going to kill them.” you mutter, still smiling wide. You should have expected this, especially from those three idiots. “It was nice meeting you Chan, but I have three children to scold.”

“Oh, man do I understand how you feel!.” Chan smiles, 

“It’s that single parent life am I right?” he lets out a loud laugh, nodding as you turn to hunt down your three grown up toddlers. Jisung quickly waves goodbye as he speedwalks his way over to you, smiling widely as he looks at your very determined expression. 

After finally catching up to the three boys you scolded them for a solid minute as they all sat there with their tails between their legs. Taeyang wanting to be back on your good side was the first to fold, placing all of the blame on Keeho as he claimed it was his idea. Keeho folded next, claiming that it was Intak who took the video,  while Intak stood there looking sorry for his crime. The four of you laughed it off as Jisung mentioned how the video was really quite the experience. 

ꕀ❀ꕀ

The five of you continued about your day doing whatever came to mind, a bit of window shopping and taking pictures on Jisung’s phone in every ‘fun’ or ‘pretty’ location you came across, since he had decided to take everyone else’s away. Keeho cracked jokes the whole time and slowly you forgot about agreeing to be Leah’s maid of honor. You enjoyed the company, and by the end of the day you had laughed so hard with each of them that you swore you would gain abs from the killer workout it gave your core. 

Your stomach grumbled loudly as sat on the swings in a park you had all stopped in. Intak who heard it laughed out loud, “Y/N/N is hungry!” he says as he gets up from the swing. Taking your hand in his as he leads you away from the group who follow eagerly for dinner, “Want me to text the guys? They should be around, maybe we can all go to that one place Y/N likes for dinner” 

“How are you gonna do that when Chan has our phones?” you giggle, 

“Shit. I forgot,” 

“Idiot,” you say lovingly as you squeeze his hand. 

“I got it,” Jisung says, stopping to pull his phone out. He quickly sends out a few texts and continues following, “Here,” he says handing you his phone, “Google the place” you quickly type in the name of your favorite restaurant and hand it back to him, he clicks on the call button and lift the phone to his ear. He quickly makes a reservation nodding to you all as he confirms everything. You walk hand in hand with Intak as he tells you about how hard everyones been working for their upcoming tour. The other three walked in front of you, as they discussed what they would be ordering. 

“I’m excited for you to be in the city Y/N, it’ll be nice not waiting for you to drive an hour to hang out.” he whispers, smiling wide at you. 

“In the city?” 

“Yeah, has he not told you yet?” 

“Told me what?” 

“Oh, shit.” Intak whispers, his hand now squeezing yours out of nervousness. “I should let Keeho tell you.” Tell me what? A pit forms in your stomach, the anxiety of not knowing something Keeho has planned courses through your veins, your heart pumps quickly as you overthink the situation. Why would I be in the city? Is he kicking me out? I like our home though. Intak quickly lets go of your hand and rushes up to Keeho, whispering to him quickly. Keeho whispers something back, and Intak looks a bit relieved, He always tells me everything… you think to yourself, what is he hiding from me. 

ꕀ❀ꕀ

Jisung holds the door open for all of you as you walk into the restaurant. The delicious smells overwhelm your senses, as you sink into a sense of familiarity, but still your brain persists. Reminding you of all the times you had been here with Jeonghan. 

As you all sat waiting for everyone else to arrive, you thought more and more of everything Leah and Jeonghan could have possibly done while you were completely unaware of everything. Had he brought her here? Did he tell her the sweet words of adoration he once told you? The stress built up until you had, had enough. You stand silently, as the others watch. Leaving your spot between Taeyang and Keeho to step outside. Pulling the pack of smokes from your pocket and quickly lighting one up. You inhaled deeply, the familiar head rush from the nicotine hitting hard in the cold winter air. You stood in the cold with no jacket, as the wind sent chills down your spine causing small goosebumps to run up your arms. Your legs shook, partially from the cold and partially from the thought of Jeonghan. How could he have done this to you? How could he have left you for her? How could she have taken him with open arms after you had cried for countless hours. She had known the whole time how much you adored him, she had always known how you felt. But in your time of need, when you were absolutely heart broken. She was madly in love with him. You never sought out comfort with Leah during the breakup, how could you knowingly seek her out while she slept next to him? You felt like you had no one, even though you were surrounded by amazing friends, you truly felt completely, painfully, alone. Nothing feels worse than being in a room full of people willing to help, yet feeling so helpless, useless and unlovable. Maybe you were truly destined to be alone. You think back to the words an old classmate back home once said to you in a drunken ramble. “You are the type of girl people date. Not marry.” a reality you now felt the need to accept. 

“What does that even mean?” Jisung asks as he walks up behind you, he had come out to check up on you since you hadn’t returned for a few minutes. Figuring by now you’d be cold without your jacket. He drapes it around your shoulders as you continue your smoke, exhaling a thick gray cloud, a mix of smoke, and your warm breath showing in the cold winter air. 

“It means, I’m good enough to have around for short term things, not good enough for the long term.” Jisung thinks over the statement carefully selecting his next words. 

“I don’t really know you,” he starts. You open your mouth to apologize but he quickly cuts you off, “But I wouldn’t say that’s true. From what I’ve seen people enjoy having you around. You’ve been the bigger person in a shitty situation, and you handled today well. Don’t say things like that about yourself. You’re in your early twenties, and one guy isn’t the end all be all. He fucked up, but that doesn’t mean its the end for you. Guys are dumb sometimes, and they don’t commit to thinking of the long term very often, but there’s still so much time left Y/N, you have so much time to meet someone, fall in love, get married, do whatever your heart wants.”

“I just feel like it was a waste of five years.” 

“Five years ago what were you doing?” Jisung turns to you, as you answer. 

“I was back in Toronto.”

“Were you happy?” 

“Not really.”

“Why are you here?” 

“Because Jeonghan wanted me to be closer.” 

“Did you become happier here?” 

“For a while,” 

“Forget about the issues right now, did you become happy?” 

“Yes.” 

“What did you do back home?” 

“What’s up with all the questions Jisung?” he sighs, 

“Just answer.” 

“Nothing. I just worked part time.” 

“What did you do coming here?” 

“I applied for college. Got in as a music major. And graduated,” 

“What else?”

“I made friends, I guess? Got a job? I don’t know Jisung?” You huff now annoyed at the overbearing amount of questions he hurled at you. 

“Was getting your degree a waste of time?” 

“No.”  

“Are your friends a waste of time?” 

“NO! Why woul-” 

“What I’m saying is Y/N, you spent five years working on yourself. You graduated college, in a subject I sincerely hope you liked. You made friends, and began to work. You stabilized your life here. Yeah, a lot of the memories are with him, but it wasn’t a waste of time. Because none of the things you achieved on your own are affected by his absence. Your degree is still yours, your job is still stable, I hope. Your friends are still here.” Jisung hoped he hadn’t overstepped any boundaries as he watched you finish your smoke, he watched your body language closely for any hints of discomfort. 

“Yeah,” you whisper, letting the filter of the cigarette fall to the ground, sizzling and burning out as it hits the snow on the ground, 

“There’s still so much time. Don’t give up on yourself now.” You weakly smile at him as he guides you back inside. ꕀ❀ꕀ

After dinner, Keeho had taken you, Intak and Taeyang home after retrieving your phones from Chan who still sat working in his practice room. Soul, Jiung and Jongseob had decided to cab back to their place, and Jisung patiently waited for Chan to finish up. “So what was it you needed to talk about?” Chan asks as he gathers his things. Placing his laptop in his bag, along with a few pages of sheet music with messily written notes jotted down. 

“It’s a talk we need to have as roommates.” Jisung sighs as he runs his hand through his hair, “I should apologize to you in advance.” 

The drive back from the studio wasn’t very long, but Jisung had to think of a way of bringing up the topic calmly. His roommates wouldn’t refuse he knew that, but he was scared of the pressure of agreeing to this without them. It would be his responsibility to make sure everything went smoothly, and after the interactions he had tonight. He was unsure if he was really a good fit to help. Sure, he could be of some use but the task at hand was large. It truly was a big ask, and he had said yes over some stupid phones. He wondered how Keeho was holding up, knowing his part of the task was probably just as bad. 

ꕀ❀ꕀ

“Y/N, can we talk?” Keeho says a hint of sadness lingering in his words, you nod. Walking over to the couch where he sat as stiff as a rock. 

“What's wrong?” He fiddles with the remote for the tv, the silence in the house was deafening. Would he finally be telling you of the thing Intak had mentioned? Maybe he really was kicking you out. 

“You know, I'm going on tour soon, and I’ll be gone for a few months.” Of course you’d known he’d be leaving, he was excited over the tour. To be able to finally see the fans again, to have them right in his reach, to see them smile and cheer, to hear them sing along to their songs. It was what kept him going his entire time as an Idol. “And, you remember that agreement we had with the company right?” there it is. This is what’s bothering him. 

“What did they ask of you-” Keeho had originally lived in the city when he offered for you to move in, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stay there. The anxiety of the city was too much after the breakup, and so Keeho had gone out of his way to find your current home. He would have to talk to his company about moving an hour from the city, but he promised he’d make it work. After some convincing the company agreed due to them being on a small break, he wouldn’t be needed in the studio as often. They also began helping him with rent but only partially but they’d only allow him to be away until his lease ended, and when the lease ended, he’d be expected to move closer to the city for work. Especially during comeback months. oh god. The lease. “Is the lease-” he nods softly, letting his head fall. 

“It ended two days ago.” 

“We should have been looking for a new place Kee, how much time do we have” 

“So.” he sighs, “We actually should start packing tomorrow, and then I’ll be storing some of my things with the boys for a bit while the company prepares the apartment for us, but it won’t be ready until I get back; which is why they thought now would be the best timing. Since I wouldn’t be here anyways-” 

“Okay, so should I start looking for a room?” 

“You have one set up already, I worked that out earlier.” 

“Earlier?” 

“Jisung,” he pauses, taking a large breath in before finally spitting out what he wanted to say “Offered to take you in with his roommates.” 

“What.” You stood there in shock, why would Jisung have offered you the place? How long had this been planned for? Had he asked when you were outside smoking? Is that why Jisung came to find you? ‘If I agree to your favor?’ Jisung's words rang through your head, and your head shot up as if you’d had some kind of epiphany. “You want me to stay with a stranger? Was that the favor you asked of him, Kee?” he nodded, offering no other explanation. “No, I’m not intruding on some random person's life for this, not happening Kee, I’ve got enough to deal with I don’t want to be thrown into some new place wi-” your eyes stung as the tears began to well, you could hardly speak without choking on your words. “No, Just No.” You had only a few days to pack up, a few stupid days to accept the fact that your comfort place, your home was going to be taken away from you, a few god damned days until your best friends leave for their tour leaving you all alone. And he wanted you to process all of that while staying in a house full of strangers? Absolutely the fuck not.

Tag List: @g4m3girl @channiesbub thank you for letting me tag you ;3

[annieintheaair]

Love is everything it's cracked up to be.

Greeting passengers just might be my least favorite part of my job. Usually, I’m ignored. People don’t say hi back, smile, or even acknowledge me. That is unless I’m flying to Oklahoma. Tulsa people especially reply and even ask how you are. Most of the time, I reply saying I’m good or alright but what if I said fine or worse, “I could be better.” I mean, how would anyone respond? Sometimes I feel like this job makes me a liar, constantly leading people to believe that I’m doing well when I’m not. I hate having to put on a face when inside I'm hurting.

Last night, I even put on red lipstick, thinking that if I felt like I looked put together, maybe I'd feel put together. In all truth though, it didn't really work but I was happy to be working with my friend, Jackie.

While passengers boarded and deplaned last night and this morning, I tried to hand out compliments. Maybe one complement would make their day better; maybe they were hurting inside too and a few kind words made them feel better.

One of the maintenance guys in Tulsa always meets our flights when we arrive at night. In the morning, even if we don't see him, he has a pot of coffee brewed and a sweet note letting us know what time he brewed the coffee and wishing us a good day. The back of the card says something about kindness and passing it on. Last night, when I was chatting with him during deplaning, I made sure to let him know how much we appreciate what he does and I think it made his night. His face lit up and I felt for a moment that even if I couldn't make my own day better, maybe I could make someone else's.

There was an elderly couple in my cabin on one of my flights during my trip and I looked at them, holding hands, wondering how long they had been together. Had they faced issues before? Or was their relationship smooth sailing? Do you ever get to the point in a relationship, even when you're married, where you no longer fear the other person leaving you? After 50 years or so together, do you just know that they'll never desert you? I'm not sure that I'll ever find out the answer to those questions for myself.

I was home by 7am this morning, which was nice since it was much earlier than normal. There wasn't even traffic. I did some work for my side job and then laid on the couch with the dogs to take a nap and watch TV before yoga. I even read some of my devotionals.

Yoga today was better than yesterday. Stephanie always does a good restorative class and it was just what I needed. Even though I was annoyed with the parking situation, I was glad I went. I thought about going to Trader Joe's or Costco afterward but then realized that the crowds would likely be bad and decided it was better to just go home.

I haven't felt good all week. I felt crappy on Saturday morning and have been worse since. I tried to eat yogurt this morning and even that made me feel nauseous. It has been a week mostly spent on my couch napping. I'm trying to tell myself that that's ok because sometimes that's what we need but I'm not 100% sure right now.

Breakups are hard, especially when you know you loved (and still love) the other person so much. How do you get to 50 years or so with someone, like the couple on my flight, and still want to be with them and fight for the relationship every day? I remember with other guys I've dated in the past that I'd get annoyed at them being there too much.

As much as I enjoyed my time with James, I remember one fight we had where I finally told him that I needed him to go work somewhere else on Tuesdays and Wednesdays when I was off because he was in the way of me getting things done. It was kind of nice when he would venture out to play golf with his friends or take a weekend trip down to San Antonio to visit his parents.

Of course, I don't always talk about the shitty times with him, because I think in the end we like to see things with rose-colored glasses, but ironically, it was Halloween weekend that year when we got into a fight on our way to San Antonio to visit his parents. He wouldn't stop for breakfast tacos before leaving Dallas and I was so hungry. We stopped for gas and I was so mad that I said I didn't even want to go on the trip and he offered to turn around and go back home. We ended up going anyway and eventually stopped at Jersey Mike's in Waco. It turned out to be a great weekend but I probably would have enjoyed a weekend at home without him. The ironic part of this is that yes, I do get hangry when I want to eat and am denied food.

Even with Dan, we knew that we both needed space from time to time. We'd hang out with our own friends separately sometimes and it just worked for us.

This time felt different for me. I felt like even though we had the weekends, it was never enough. I hated when Monday came and I had to go home and be away from him for days again. I was really looking forward to moving back up there to be able to be with him more often. My whole week felt sad and lonely without him and I literally lived for Fridays. This Friday just feels extra sad and lonely.

Years ago, when I was hanging out with Joe (we weren't dating), I remember telling Dan about him and he was immediately like, "Nope nope nope. You deserve better. He's not good enough and he's too old." As it turned out, Dan was right. Joe was never someone I could be with and I wasn't even upset when we stopped hanging out because I just knew he was so self-absorbed. Sometimes, I wish Dan could call me on the phone and tell me those things again to make me feel better. He always wanted the best for me.

During the years after Dan and I broke up (and even the times between our relationships in college), we'd be texting or he would call me and he would say, "So, you're saying there's still a chance?" At the time, I laughed and told him absolutely not. Sometimes, I wish I had given him one more chance before he died because, after nearly 15 years, he was the one person who never gave up. Deep down, I know that it never would have worked with him, and sadly, the only way I was ever able to move on was because I had no other choice when he passed away. I had so much guilt and regret in my heart from letting go of someone who cared so much. We had been through a lot together but always forgave each other and realized that even if in the end, all we could be was friends, at least we knew that we had that one person in our lives who really knew us -- each other.

After he passed away, I felt like I'd never be able to even consider meeting anyone or putting myself out there again. The pain of losing him from this earth ripped my heart apart.

Nearly a full year after Dan died though, I thought I had finally found happiness again, and I was so sure that I did. While the love I had for Dan would never go away completely, the love I grew for this new person was something that just felt so much better and different. I felt like I had finally found my new best friend and every day felt better with them in it. I loved the good morning and goodnight texts and the check-ins throughout the day. I loved how he was there for me, made me laugh, and was always down to check out all of the new places and events that we found. I loved having that person for all of the adventures and was looking forward to so many more.

To say my heart is broken now is the understatement of the century.

I'm not sure if I've ever posted it here before but my favorite quote, by Erica Jong, which I actually made my high school yearbook quote was this:

Love is everything it's cracked up to be. That's why people are so cynical about it. It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. And the trouble is, if you don't risk anything, you risk even more.

I remember discovering that quote when I was younger, and clearly knew nothing about love. While I'm no love expert now, I still really believe in that quote. Love is hard work and it's a choice that you make every day. The couple on my flight clearly makes that choice every morning when they wake up and with whatever fights they may have.

The thing is, I know I made some mistakes and I think there was a lot of misunderstanding due to communication issues but I know I love him and I'd do anything to be able to fix it at this point. And the trouble is, if you don't risk anything, you risk even more. I feel like not taking the risk of working through it at this point is the bigger risk. While losing Dan was hard, it's even harder to lose someone that's still here. Love is effort and commitment, and it is 100% hard work. What I wrote on Facebook may have been unintentionally hurtful, but I do believe that it's important to be with someone who means it when they say they love you. I don't know about him but I do know that I meant every word I said-- I did, and still do, love him.

Erica Jong was right-- if you don't take that risk for love, you risk even more.

xoxo

Annie

[stimulatimg]

my mom had so many boyfriends. a memorable amount. but also an amount to which you remembered one and thought “oh yeah! forgot about that one”

is this why I only wanted to get married and settle down so quickly? i don’t want that many boyfriends. i don’t want to rotate relationships. im scared of that. i’m scared ill keep having babies with people who don’t want me. why don’t they want my mom? babies are not a form of commitment. just because you have a child with someone it doesn’t mean they want you. or the baby.

why did i get married so young? why did i want to start a family? because i never had a family and i never had a consistent man in my life. revolving door boyfriends led by revolving front doors. i lived in 12 different homes by the time i graduated high school. i had zero roots. now that’s all i want for my life but now my roots feel like a trap. how fucking ironic that i feel stuck in the place i always wanted to be? i always believed in true love and till death do us part but now i never want to be with a man again. i hate men so fucking much and they’re so useless and liars and fake and nothing they do is for the greater good it’s all GREED.

i just got want my children to myself i don’t want to share them with someone who doesn’t love me when they are half of me. i hate that i have to share my kids with the man i chose. the man who basically fucking groomed me at 19. what is a 26 year old doing with a 19 year old anyways? being 23 now it makes me sick. physically i get nauseous and resentful. got me pregnant on purpose and manipulated me into marrying you

you got arrested two weeks before you proposed to me for opioids. i didn’t tell anyone. i was 8 weeks pregnant and horrified that i had turned into my mom. having a baby with a fucking loser

drugs to fix the drug problems, you were on suboxone the night we got engaged so everything was good and dandy. proposing to me in public and in front of my dad and step mom was a trick. if it wasn’t in public and in front of everyone i would’ve said no. but nobody knew you were just in jail. i was barely pregnant. as far as anyone was concerned we were okay…so why would i say no? exposing your drug issue isn’t my place. i’m pregnant and happy! why would i say no!

you’re probably cheating on me. i know it and i don’t care. i literally do not give a fuck. i was used anyways so i don’t fucking care. i need a good reason to walk anyway anyways, that’s the only “good” reason to leave someone anyways. not the fact that i was 20 and you were 27, and now that im 23 i can see the immaturity and the manipulation.

i’m just too old for you now. im too much of a mom for you now. im too much of a wife for you now. i’m not fun or exciting or sexy or anything i once was. who would want that? you don’t want a shrew. a responsible woman who takes care of HER children.

it’s funny i thought i was doing the right thing. the responsible thing. but i ruined my youth and let some man take advantage of my stupidity because he was ready to settle down and convinced me i was ready too.

maybe i’ll regret these words in the future but for now i’m just a mom doing a good job for my kids and i’ll always do that because i want to. i’m a good mom. that’s all i want to be.

[meandfood]

This one is going to be wordy.

Hello. I’m Jessica and I have some shit going on. This is supposed to be about my relationship with food so I’ll stick to that.

I have disordered eating.

Ouch. I’ve probably said that one other time. Ever. I make a lot of excuses. “It’s not ME because the meds (I’ve got some medical things… multiple sclerosis to name just one) messed up my stomach”…. Aka I don’t feel hunger until I’m nauseous. Which is true.

But it’s deeper. It’s longer. I grew up pretty poor. Still poor by the way. My family never went out to eat but I remember eating free cereal at the college my mothers husband was a security guard at. My mother would sometimes get taco bell after church and say to me “we have sandwich stuff at the house” when we really didn’t. An exciting dessert was dipping white bread in syrup. So what then? Scarcity food complex and some complex I don’t know the wording for that has to do with my basic needs not being met.

And then… when I was pretty young I started getting pretty sick. A doctor told me about food triggers and ever since then I’ve spiraled for around 30 years.

Won’t eat: msg, soy, too much dairy, tomato sauces, chocolate, peanuts, green candy, yeast extract, and MANY MANY MORE things. All because at one point I felt they were associated with a health episode.

Oh and I’m vegetarian.

My current diet quiet literally is as follows. Around 12 I eat a tortilla with cheese, tortilla chips, possibly a soft pretzel, and handfuls of dry cereal. Sometimes I’ll mix it up and have a baked potato. Like a couple times a month at most. Then I pass the fuck out. Dinner happens anywhere from 9-11 pm. It is always a tortilla with quinoa beans quac and cheese. I eat it with tortilla chips. Then I binge dry cereal almond butter and Graham crackers till I once again pass out. And I always wake up anxious and nauseated. Like I’ve eaten sharp bricks.

I weigh 103 lbs. I am 5foot7. Just for posterity. I don’t want to be this size personally. I’d like to get about 30lbs on at least.

So I’m going to cook. I’m going to eat. I don’t know how to do either of those things. So I did what no one does anymore and went to the bookstore.

I think these are fucking gold and together they were under $20. Thanks used book store.

The new professional chef one is daunting.

There is that much to learn before I even touch a knife. And a lot of food issues to be dealt with along the way. Gods I hope I keep this up.

But while I read:learn all that up there… I’ll hop on into how to bake… first up… IRISH SODA BREAD! Hey I’m Irish. I’ve never had Irish soda bread and the only bread I’ve made is a basic rustic loaf but I’ve got buttermilk in the fridge so stay tuned…

🖤

Ps: if you have issues with food… let’s chat.

[erineverly]

Had Axl said those things even a few months ago, Erin would have jumped to conclusions and snapped at him, but now she can see that they’re on the same team — they both have their son’s best interest in mind and want to help him navigate through this difficult time. “I would never choose anyone over Sebastian and I know that you wouldn’t either,” she says with conviction, smiling softly even as her stomach churns like an old washing machine. The mere possibility that she’s invited this man into her home and now he might be mistreating her baby is enough to make her feel nauseous. It’s also a hard reality to accept, which is why she wants to deny it. However, she, too, has noticed those changes in Sebastian and there must be an explanation. She vividly remembers all the stories that Axl’s shared with her throughout the years, about how he was abused by his stepfather both physically and emotionally and how he acted out because of it, and even she can see that there are a few disturbing similarities. “Anthony would never lay a hand on him,” she insists with a shake of her head, certain that her boyfriend’s never disciplined her son in any way. Still, she can’t shake off this unsettling feeling that maybe she can’t be sure of anything. After all, it’s not like she knows Anthony all that well and he can be rather temperamental. “We need to sit him down and talk about this. I don’t know if today is a good day, but maybe… How do we even go about this?” As much as she doesn’t want to admit it, because it would mean that she’s not as observant as she thinks she is, that she’s failed to protect her only baby, she has to accept the fact that she could have missed something. “I want him to know that we’re always on his side, that I’m always on his side.” She doesn’t want Sebastian to wonder if he can come to her and open up, worry that she might not believe him. She’ll always believe him.

“It’ll always be one of my biggest regrets,” she admits with a sigh, pressing her lips together and inhaling deeply as his fingers sink into her dark curls. God, it feels so good. “I wish I’d listened to you and gotten help sooner, but I was so prideful back then. It was easier to point a finger at you and put all the blame on you than admit I wasn’t a good person. My therapist says that blaming others for how we express inappropriate actions enhances our sense of being justified for those actions, and I guess she’s right. It’s horrible to admit, but I didn’t feel quite as guilty about starting a fight or throwing that first punch if I told myself that it was all your fault. I’m sorry, Axl. You deserved so much better.” She doesn’t want to say it out loud, but when she lies alone in bed, struggling to fall asleep, she often ponders all the what could have been, what should have been, and ends up staying awake all night, wishing she’d made different life choices. “Neither of us was truly ready to be in a serious relationship at the time, but those were the best years of my life, despite all the issues and challenges so on one hand I’ll forever be grateful that you asked me out that night, but I also know that in the perfect world… We’d probably be meeting each other just now.” They have it all figured out now, both have gone through some intense therapy sessions, and it’s just their luck that they’re in different relationships and reconciliation isn’t an option. “It definitely did. You’re nothing like your parents. You realized there was a problem and got help. You admitted to all those mistakes and owned up to them. You’re the best dad in the world.” This apple really did fall far from the tree. “I’m happy, too. You have no idea how long I’d been meaning to have this conversation with you, how long I’d wanted to say all these things and hear you say everything that you just said. It means the world to me,” she says softly, letting out an airy chuckle as his lips brush against her head. Her heart nearly jumps out of her chest, expanding and stealing her breath away once more. The way he’s looking at her, with so much kindness, has her melting into a puddle, and for a split second it almost feels like they’re the only two people in the world. There’s something intimate about this moment, about the way they’re gazing into each other’s eyes and smiling, how their hearts seem to be beating as one again, the friendliness of these touches and hugs could easily be mistaken for affection, and just as this insane thought of doing something stupid like kissing his cheek begins to brew in Erin’s mind, the door flies open and startles her, their rumbustious four year old striding in. 

“It’s Eh-vis, baby!” Sebastian announces loudly, standing in the middle of the room with his feet a little too far apart for it to be truly comfortable. He lifts his right arm up into the air only to bring it down vigorously and pluck the strings of his toy guitar, causing an explosion of screeching sounds. He’s wearing that white jumpsuit, rhinestones sparkling, and his hair is standing up on top of his head, covered in so much mousse as though he were one of those synchronized swimmers at the Olympics and couldn’t risk a single lock slipping onto his face. He opens his mouth to start singing, give the performance of his lifetime, but that’s when his emerald eyes look up from his electric guitar and find his parents snuggled up to one another. Erin’s arms fall from Axl’s waist almost immediately, her jaw dropping to the floor when she realizes that they’ve left this child alone with no supervision for way too long, and she quickly covers her mouth with her hands, too stunned to make any sounds. “Why’d you — Umm… Why’d you close da door?” The boy inquires, tilting his head to the side as if that was the most peculiar thing in the whole world. A warm grin blooming on his angelic features because it's been so long since he saw mommy and daddy hug like this, and it makes him happy.

“I just don’t think he’s exaggerating. Sounds like how I acted when my mom chose me over strange men. Not sayin’ YOU are choosing anyone over him, just sayin’ those are similar things I did when I was being treated unfairly by her new boyfriend. That’s definitely how I acted out as a kid.” Majority of his entire childhood. And now that this conversation is branching into deeper territory about it, it starts to worry him. He’s going to have to question Sebastian more about it… what if that’s the real reason he’s being so clingy to him? “Not really much at all, it’s just things I notice he’s been giving away.” Like he previously stated just now.

“I know. That’s the part I always felt alone on, that’s the part I knew was going to finally be the thing to end our relationship…us BOTH not goin’ to therapy.” Actually, he hates recalling those moments when he felt he was talking to a wall because Erin had all that pride and there was no hope for them lasting when he realized that. “Yeah…” Confirming he remembers, he’ll never forget. “I’d never regret that, Erin. But at the same time…I was selfish. I wasn’t mentally stable to egg you on into a relationship with someone like me.” Too much damage to function like a caring person, he should’ve known that was a stupid thing to do but at the same time he couldn’t help he was wildly insanely in love with her. “It did?” His brows lift and surprise also lifts in his voice, at her thinking the opposite of hin. “Umm…” Eyes fall downwards, shyly thinking about it. He doesn’t know how much he believes in himself but he’s elated to know she can call him good after everything. “I don’t deserve that, sweetheart.” Shaking his head, he leans down to kiss the top of her head. “But thanks for sayin’ that and I’m glad we could talk about these things. I’m real happy.” Green eyes look back to her blue ones, his heart doing a flutter all on its own. A genuine smile passing by on his face for once. “I forgive you too.” His hands still brushing through her hair, more out of nervousness than anything because he doesn’t know how to suppress the unsolicited somersaults in his stomach as he’s frozen in this position with her.

[riotgrrrl200]

Destroy Boys: Dissecting the Lyrics of “I Threw Glass at my Friend’s Eyes and Now I’m on Probation”

“I Threw Glass at my Friend’s Eyes and Now I’m on Probation” actually has nothing to do with glass but it discusses the idea of grooming and having a relationship with an older man. It talks about how it can be super confusing to be in that situation. This song can be used to help other women in a confusing and mucky situation. Hearing other people singing about being in a grooming situation while simultaneously hearing the voice of the song discuss how confusing the situation truly is can be very validating. Having music like in the media is so helpful to individuals experiencing these situations because they can start to understand what is going on from a different perspective. The first section I want to discuss is the first verse. It is as follows: 

You're ruining my life day by day

The butterflies you give me are literally making me nauseous

This is disgusting, like seriously dude?

What do you think you're doing?

You're like way older than me and you're gross

And I don't wanna do that

The first verse of this song is used to introduce the problem which is that there is a confusing situation between an older person and a younger person. The young person is meant to be the voice of the song and we are hearing their side of the story. We as the listener are to assume that this is a heterosexual interaction which means that the framing of this song is that the older man is preying on the younger girl which is a very prevalent issue plaguing the United States and the rest of the world. The first line is to introduce that she knows this is not a good situation. The line where she discusses the butterflies that she has is meant to show that she is having a bad gut feeling about the overall situation. Lines three and four are meant to discuss how in a grooming scenario, the fault is on the adult and the younger person is the victim. Adults who groom children and young adults are fully aware of what they are doing and it is very important to put that idea back onto the perpetrator. The last two lines again show that the younger girl is not accepting of the idea and knows that it is not appropriate. The next section that I want to discuss is the chorus which is as follows: 

Never invite me over ever again

Just kidding, please do!

I really wanna hang out with you

Ooh, ooh, ooh

Ooh, ooh, ooh

The chorus’s purpose is to show the confusion in which the young girl is faced with. She is conflicted because she knows that it is wrong to get involved with or even date someone who is grooming her but she is intrigued. She finds herself drawn to the situation but this brings up the idea of male validation. In our patriarchal society, male validation is one of the highest valued measures that we have. The opinion of men is drilled into our minds and it can manifest into wanting to please men even when it is at the detriment of yourself. The second verse quickly snaps us back into criticizing the actions of the adult and the lyrics are as follows: 

But fuck you! You're so old, dude!

Like seriously, what do you think you're doing?

Your hands are so big and you're so tall, wow

You know, I kinda wish I had let you do that one thing that one time

But in retrospect it would've been a bad idea, because

You don't care about me like I care about you, so that'd be bad

After a chorus that shows us that the young girl is confused, we get a verse that reminds us again that it is not the voice of the song's fault. She calls attention to the fact that the older man is doing something wrong in the first two lines. The third through fifth lines of this verse are to show confusion within her because she wants to be a part of the situation but knows it is not okay. The final line is an important one because this is where she explicitly states that the situation is very different for the both of them. For the adult man this is a perverted and disgusting fantasy in which he wants to have relations with a child or at least a much younger person. For him it may also be a power trip that he is seeking out but whatever the motive, it is disgusting. He is using manipulation to try and trick the young girl into thinking that they should be together but this is why the song goes back and forth, the voice is confused because he is confusing her. On her side, she actually likes him and her feelings are a mix of her actually liking this man and his manipulation playing with her mind. The last section I want to discuss is the third verse which is as follows: 

I'm really ironically pissed off right now

I'm feeling quite lost right now

Like in a really big forest like in Lake Tahoe or something

Somewhere big and scary 'cause you're scary as shit, dude!

Like, I don't really know what I can tell you

You kinda freak me out but we could be friends!

This verse shows another side of her confusion. She says that she is “ironically” pissed off but this line actually means that she doesn’t actually feel angry at him. Everyone is expecting her to be angry at him so she is pretending to be but is not actually mad at him since she actually likes him. The next five lines show that by the end of the song she acknowledges that she is scared of this man and that she knows that she should most likely not interact with him. She finally gets to a point where she is scared of the man because she realizes that she is being preyed upon. The whole time the voice is aware that she should not be entertaining this man but she is getting so confused. I think this song is so important because it discusses this topic as what it is which is confusing. The feelings that the voice of the song is experiencing is clearly hard for her to understand which puts a more human undertone to an otherwise black and white concept of grooming is bad. It helps the listener understand a little more that these situations are complicated and that if they are experiencing something similar, they will be able to relate to the lyrics. Anyone listening to this song while going through a situation like this may find it helpful to relate to such a blatant discussion of this topic. 

Source: https://genius.com/Destroy-boys-i-threw-glass-at-my-friends-eyes-and-now-im-on-probation-lyrics

[wondereads]

Review of I Hope This Doesn't Find You by Ann Liang

Summary

Sadie has always been an overachiever; she's got perfect grades, she's an amazing athlete, and she's the captain of her school. Everything would be perfect if Julian, her rival in practically everything, didn't also have all those things as well. Sadie and Julian are constantly butting heads, but Sadie would never do anything to affect people's opinion of her. Whenever someone annoys her, including (mostly) Julian, she writes an email and then hides it in her drafts to never see the light of day. At least, that's how it should have been, but when all her emails are sent, Sadie has to figure out how to deal with the backlash.

Plot 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Ann Liang is really doing something right because I was consumed by anxiety for the first half or two-thirds of this book. The horror of having Sadie's personal, not very palatable thoughts aired out like that had me literally nauseous. I think there's a pretty good balance between showing how Sadie was genuinely taken advantage of and how she does overreact and take things too far. So while I definitely empathized with her and wanted her to be able to mend her relationships, it didn't feel like she was being completely wronged. As this is a romance book, it's pretty light on the plot, but Sadie's efforts to win over her classmates again don't just feel like set dressing. It also has a pretty satisfying conclusion.

I'd say the one thing I didn't like was that the setting was very vague. Due to my own bias and the fact that the book is in English, I assumed the book was set in the USA until it is mentioned that Julian has a "pretentious American accent." Ann Liang herself is from Australia, so that's probably where this is set, but just a throwaway line about a landmark or something about the country to establish the setting would have been nice.

Characters 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

I really like Sadie. Like I mentioned with the plot, she is definitely in the wrong sometimes, but it is very easy to see things from her point of view, and there are just enough moments where she is obviously the one being wronged that the reader will really want to root for her. The story behind her obsession with perfection fits well, and I like that we take the time to also address her family issues, outside her academics and the romance. Julian is a great love interest; it's very clear why he likes Sadie, and he also has a good reason for their rivalry.

Concerning their relationship, it was so fun to see a genuine rivalry. Sadie and Julian are constantly snipping at each other and it seems Julian is just as irked by Sadie as she is by him. The way they are forced and then gradually grow closer together is very cute, and they're a great match. I just know their class has a betting pool around them.

Abigail is Sadie's best friend, and she plays a very interesting role. There is some conflict concerning her, and I appreciate how her flaws are set up very early in the story so it doesn't feel like something out of left field. Finally, Sadie's family is pretty great, especially for how they bring out Sadie's character and provide a good side conflict for the story. Sadie's brother being much more go-with-the-flow and noncommittal is a good foil to her, especially with the development at the end.

Writing Style 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Ann Liang's writing style is pretty standard for YA, she's not particularly flowery or unique, but she does a great job at capturing Sadie's character and values in the way she narrates. The way she tries to convince the reader to side with her against Julian tells us a lot about what she considers important and hints at her people-pleasing tendencies.

Also, the pacing is quite good. There's a great sense of tension that makes you want to keep reading; I likely would've finished this book in one night if I could stay up that late during the semester. With only a couple of exceptions, major scenes lead into each other pretty smoothly, creating that feeling of "well, I can't put it down now!"

Overall 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

This was an absolutely adorable contemporary romance with an amazing main character and lovely love interest. The plot is, of course, not a focus, but it strikes a good balance between fluffy wish-fulfillment and being somewhat grounded in reality. The side characters are quite well-developed, and it has that feel of un-put-down-ability with pacing that pulls you in. There are some oversights in terms of small details, but other than that this was so much fun to read and Ann Liang continues to deliver when it comes to academic rivals-to-lovers. I can always trust her with this trope!

The Author

Ann Liang: Chinese-Australian, has a labradoodle, also wrote If You Could See the Sun and This Time It's Real

The Reviewer

Hi, I'm Rose, and I review, recommend, and just talk about books. I take recommendations for books to review, and you can learn more about me in my pinned post :)

[ginger-snaps014]

THIS!!!

The amount of times I’ve had to says to my friend that grew up in religious purity culture BS the following (usually in this order):

(1) to stop comparing yourself to me. I am grey and find very few people attractive (2-4 people on average per year, including celebrities, influencers, people in my life, strangers on the street, a-holes who are undateable, people who are already in a relationship, people who live far away, models, people I will never meet in real life and have no chance with, etc.). The idea of sleeping with someone I am not attracted to literally makes me nauseous. You seen the face when I have to try and picture that. I have slept with fewer people, not because I’m pure - but because people tend to be repulsive to me. The is NO temptation the majority of the time. My body says no for me. Not my goodness; therefore my number doesn’t make me good or better. Just working with different circumstances.

(2) Being sexual and having sex is not bad or immoral. It’s a natural biological response. So long as you do so safely with a partner who is not detrimental to your mental health, you should not care about numbers. You are human. You have needs. You should not be punishing yourself for that. Do not punish your humanity;

(3) Anytime your mom sends you purity culture crap remember: (i) you are a human with intrinsic value, (ii) you are not not a car, lawn, flower or other object that loses value with time or use. Treating women like objects is misogynistic; (iii) human value does not change; (iv) every one of those purity metaphors never puts any responsibility on the man (friend is straight). He is equally participating. If his value does not change for participating, why would yours? Because of your gender? That’s sexist; (v) A lot of these metaphors going even further saying the man will do anything for sex, and if you let him you are bad. Anything includes rape. We do not victim blame here. Failing to dress modestly, does not mean your rapist gets off scot free. Purity culture directly plays into rape culture; and (vi) Also, men are evolved people with souls and morals. Treating men like unhinged animals is rude and demeaning towards men. Purity culture is therefore also misandrist in addition to misogynistic

(4) So what is the point of purity culture? To shame. What is the shamed used for? Control of people’s actions. Who is primarily being shamed? Women. Who is purity culture trying to control? Women. Do you want a misogynist, misandrist mindset used to prop up rape culture to control you and make you feel bad for acting human in your 30s?

(5) My friend will usually point out at some point that bunch of good Christian guys will like me more for my number. As if that is my defining point- instead of my identity. I point out that if a guy wants a pious wife, then he should want someone saying no to that which he considers temptation. I have no temptation, and therefore do not count as pious. If he wants a girl with a similar moral outlook, I’m a horrible pick. I obviously do NOT support purity culture. If he is just a self-conscious loser who wants a wife who has a low number (i) so she doesn’t know the difference between good and bad sex. And by default won’t know he is terrible; or (ii) so he knows she is more malleable (controllable) to follow his stupid rules (even ones that shame her humanity), then he sucks. I don’t want him. And I’m a stubborn bitch. So still a bad pick. Also, why are you acting like having that type of loser attracted to you is a good thing?? That’s bad. I don’t want them.

(5) I have whole different set of issues. I’m self conscious because the guys I go on dates with often want and expect something I can’t give (without throwing up). I am constantly worried about finding a guy who will wait because that’s not common anymore. I question whether I am a tease. Because I go on a third date with someone I could grow to be attracted to and he is giving me that look. But this is literally the 3rd time I’ve seen this guy in my life, and I’m not there. I’m fighting the conditioning that media gave me which said girls are manipulative and cruel if they don’t give the boy what he wants. My brain knows they aren’t entitled. But I still feel guilty for denying them. Self conscious for being different. Like a lier because I’m not what they expect. Even though I’ve promised nothing. You and I are different, but we all have issues in our heads. But we have to remember to separate truth from the bad things we were taught. And hope eventually our emotions will catch up

6. We are human. We do the best we can with what the world gave us. Stop being hard on yourself. So long as you don’t harm yourself or others, listen to your heart. Give yourself grace. Don’t let anyone make you less because you don’t “perform” live and dating the way they want. It’s your life. Not theirs.

I would be so rich if every time I had this conversation I was paid a dollar.

Religious people: NO SEX

Asexual people: okay

Religious people: NONONO you still need to WANT to have sex but you cant have cuz’ if you do you’ll go to hell you also cant have to much but also to little and blah blah blah blah

Asexual people: … *sits down and pulls out a book waiting for them to finish*

[kmgkmg]

STUPID LOVE - XU MINGHAO

word count: 1.4k...

pairing: minghao x gn!reader

synopsis: you thought you were getting over minghao breaking up with you, but from a conversation with a friend, you realize that you need to confront minghao.

genre/s: angst, non-idol!au, ex!minghao, clingy!reader

warnings: minghao is cold to reader? no serious cw though

rating: pg-13

a/n: my first angst. thank you so much to @flurrys-creativity​ for being a beta reader for this fic!! i tried to make it sad without being too sad if that makes sense? as always, open to feedback and constructive criticism! :) based off the song stupid love by kwon jinah.

Your frustration with the breakup had been brewing since the beginning of the month. Minghao had informed you that he was sick of seeing you, that he had grown out of liking you. In the back of your mind, you had secretly wanted to see him another time, but what had made you re-examine your relationship was a conversation with your friend earlier. 

“So, you mean to tell me in the three years that you were together he never actually said the words ‘I love you’ to you?” Your friend Jihoon sits on your sofa as you make yourself tea to calm your nerves. 

You sigh, used to your friend’s judgment of your ex, “He wasn’t one to express things verbally, he showed me through his actions plenty of times that he loved me. I’m still unable to understand why he dumped me so suddenly though.” Jihoon’s expression remained skeptical but he recognized well enough that he shouldn’t keep hurting a wound that has just started to heal. 

You both sit in silence, but the more that you do, the more that Jihoon’s words bother you. He hadn’t meant to be the source of your need for a confrontation with Minghao, but your curiosity regarding unresolved issues with your relationship only troubled you more as the day went on. 

Without meaning to, you found yourself in front of his door. Waiting for his reply after knocking a few times. Your nervousness about seeing him again resulted in the sensation of knots in your stomach, making you nauseous and riddled with doubt of your actions. What did you plan to say to him? I know you broke up with me, but will you take me back? Yes, you still loved him, but he had cut off all contact with you for almost an entire month. Feeling your palms get sweaty, you hear his familiar voice call out asking who it was. You straighten your posture, fix your clothes, take a deep breath, and prepare yourself for whatever this exchange will bring.

Opening his door, Minghao was taken aback by your unannounced visit. He felt his jaw immediately tense up, unaware of what to do. He had prided himself on ending relationships cleanly, but you were the first to voluntarily see him after breaking up. You continue to stare at him, at a loss of words, and his understanding of the situation became clear. You weren’t over him. He had dealt with plenty of exes that were mad or felt unjustly dumped, but none that still had feelings for him past a couple days. Wishing for this to end, he reaches for his door to close it, but you grab his wrist out of reflex. 

“We weren’t ever that serious for you to do this, yeah?”  Minghao frowns at your hand latched onto his wrist briefly before drawing his attention back to you, visibly agitated by your presence. “You won’t let go?” He looks away from you for a moment, once again showing his annoyance with the situation and then takes his other hand to remove your grip on his wrist. 

You challenge his words, “If we weren’t serious, why did you block me on everything after you broke up with me?” They were the first things you were able to say to him since he left you, but you couldn’t have imagined for them to be words of inquiry. The uneasiness in your stomach remained present as you felt your face heating up, an indicator that you were flustered. 

“You know, I never did understand why you still followed your other exes after you stopped seeing them. Not everyone is like you, Y/N. You should know me well enough that once I quit something I don’t look back, not even once.” Minghao’s irritation was increasing by the second, he made that apparent to you by crossing his arms and tapping his foot, impatiently waiting for you to leave. 

You were spiraling. The room wasn’t moving, you knew this, yet it felt as if you were a globe that had been spun around a thousand times and wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. You felt as if your face was on fire. You really shouldn’t have come to visit him. Minghao had the ability to always maintain his collected and unaffected demeanor, a trait you used to admire, but one that you were now resenting. Maybe Jihoon’s words were right, maybe you meant less to Minghao than you thought. “What was I to you then? Did you even love me?” You hadn’t planned to get emotional when talking to him, but one’s heart betrays their mind at the most inconvenient of times. From your shaky tone, you can tell that your voice was breaking because you were on the verge of crying. 

His face softens momentarily, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” The coldness of his words contradicts his expression even in spite of his desire to keep a front while he speaks with you. 

“Then explain for me.” You huff, your frustration developing gradually more and more as he continued to evade your questions. It’s not that your relationship was one-sided, you were just mistaken on how he defined the relationship. At least, that’s what you were hoping. You usually didn’t stay this attached to your exes, but Minghao was the exception. With past relationships, you had gained a sort of sixth sense in knowing when a breakup was about to happen. Whether it be the change in body language or the difference in attentiveness, most of your past partners and you had reached a mutual agreement of wanting to end the relationship. Minghao, on the other hand, had unilaterally ended the relationship. A relationship that you thought would never end. 

“I loved you, but not in the way you wanted me to. We were meant to be romantic partners, but all I could see was someone I wanted to care for. You deserve someone that sees you as an equal, Y/N. I’m not that person. I will never be that person. I will forever see you as less than an equal to me.” Minghao explains, looking for changes in your facial expression to gauge your emotions. 

His answer leaves you confused. You thought that he had viewed you as equal, as someone to chase dreams together with, not someone in need of protecting or watching. Memories flood your mind, of you bringing food and refreshments to his work when he was having tough days, or when you would always need to cover him with a blanket after he would fall asleep during a movie. You knew that he preferred warm water with his meals and would make sure that each time you shared a meal together he had warm water. Did all of your efforts go unnoticed by him? Why did he stay with you if he saw you as someone so weak? Just as you thought your face couldn’t get hotter, you feel blood rush to your ears as well. “You aren’t serious, right?” 

He runs a hand through his hair, “This is why I wanted to leave our relationship where it was. I didn’t want you to know the unfiltered truth of why you’re unappealing to me. Y/N, stupid love doesn’t need to be defined so concretely, you are too transfixed on your perception of what love should look like.”

“You genuinely think that ‘shielding’ me from the truth was the right thing to do Minghao? After dating me for three years, you really think that’s what I would’ve wanted from you? You must be telling the truth about not viewing me as an equal since you didn’t even respect me enough to be real with your emotions.” Seething with anger, the dynamics shift as you deliver your words to him with an uncharacteristic sense of calmness. 

It was Minghao’s turn to be speechless as he realizes his faults in not being transparent with you. Before he can defend himself, you turn on the heels of your feet needing to leave his sight. You couldn’t bear to hear him elaborate any further. You find yourself walking at an abnormally fast pace and then, in fear of him following after you, begin to run. 

Finding a park bench to sit on, tears finally allow themselves to fall from your eyes as his words hit you. Your concept of love, was considered idiotic to him. He viewed you as someone weak rather than his equal. The revelations of the night were much stronger than you had thought they would be. While you were grateful that you knew the truth behind him dumping you, you couldn’t help but mourn the three-year-long relationship that was so much different than you had perceived it was. 

Given what you considered love, it was true that Xu Minghao never loved you.

[kybabi]

what if we switch the roles, and it's the guys who are pranking u by calling u a different name :O with atsumu, oikawa, and suna please <33

pranking their s/o by calling them by someone else’s name

w/ atsumu, oikawa, and suna!

(a/n: omg i never thought of doing this??? but it’s a really good prompt so i had to!

anyways, thank you for requesting anon! these are all written in the timeskip!💛)

atsumu

this man is... chaotic

unfortunately, so are you😐

you + atsumu = disaster😀

there is not a single day in your relationship where the two of you haven’t bickered about the STUPIDEST SHIT

no it’s literally so dumb

today you stole his favorite sweatshirt that is, well, coincidentally your favorite as well

“babe, i need it for today.”

“‘tsumu, wear something else. this is mine for the day.”

needless to say, atsumu is offended

so while you’re not looking, he tackles you

little do you know that he has an ulterior motive😀

“I’M NOT GONNA GIVE IT BACK, ‘TSUMU!”

“okay, looks like we’re doing this the hard way,” he mutters, and pins you back on the bed, lifting up the sweatshirt and tickling your sides.

you squeal, thrashing around wildly, and attempt to push his hands off of you. but he’s too strong, his grip holding you down, and you can’t escape.

he digs his fingers into your ribs and you absolutely lose it, shrieking loudly, tears running down your face, and atsumu laughs at the sight.

but for a split second his grip ceases, so you kick a leg over his back and roll him over, landing on top of him, and attempt to pin his arms down so he can’t tickle you anymore.

at this point, both of you are laughing uncontrollably, sides growing weak, and he’s still trying to remove the sweatshirt from your frame, failing miserably.

now that you have the upper hand, you tickle at his stomach, to which he squirms, and he jerks around sharply, the sight strangely satisfying.

you find a certain spot under his left rib and he squeals.

“JUST GIVE IT BACK ALREADY, MIKI!”

at that, your hands pull back, and you end up sitting on his lap, the both of you breathing heavily. you look down at him, confused.

“miki?”

“what?”

“you said miki,” you answer. something unfamiliar and unsettling stirs in your gut.

“what? no i didn’t?” he responds, and you eye him warily.

“yeah, you did. who is miki?” you ask, getting nervous.

“babe, i don’t even know a miki.”

“then why did you say that?” you retort, voice getting louder. you’re starting to feel strangely insecure, and it’s scaring you.

“i didn’t! you’re making things up,” atsumu suggests, hand coming up to hold your face reassuringly. you push it away and get off of him.

conflicting emotions clash inside you, and uncertainty is beginning to make you nauseous.

is there someone else? am i just making things up? he probably thinks i’m some insecure bitch.

atsumu senses that there’s something wrong and looks toward you in concern. he hadn’t meant for the prank to actually hurt you, but with the way you’re pulling away from him, it seems it did.

he comes up behind you and puts his chin on your shoulder, arms wrapping around your waist reassuringly. you turn away from him.

“hey, hey,” he coaxes. “it was just a joke, okay? i don’t know a miki.”

“what?” you ask, swiveling to meet his gaze head on.

“i wanted to see how you’d react,” he replies, grinning at you softly.

your expression changes drastically, disbelief coloring your features, and you shove him playfully.

“atsumu, what the fuck?”

he laughs, tackling you back on the bed and pinning you down with butterfly kisses on your neck.

he presses one on your lips, and you sigh, feigned annoyance on your face.

“you’re gonna give me trust issues, you know that?”

he chuckles.

“you’ll always be my number one, you know that.”

oikawa

this whiny bitch🙄

you and tooru are quite the disastrous couple

every so often something comes up and the two of you spend hours bickering about it

but usually one of you will just get fed up and attack the other

tooru wouldn’t admit that he was wrong for not remembering to buy the miso paste you asked for🤨

so naturally, you tackled him

while you were very ticklish, you also knew that he was as well, so you went in for it

what you didn’t know was that he’d planned it all along😀

“BABE, IT WASN’T MY FAU— OW!” tooru squeaks, hand coming up to rub where his head has just made contact with the edge of the couch. you laugh, giving him a second to breathe, and then resume.

he shrieks, spasming erratically, and attempts to push your hands off of him, but he’s grown weak, and it’s practically impossible.

“i’ll stop if you can admit that you were wrong!” you tease, knowing his pride is too important for him to actually submit. he whines.

“NEVER!”

you sigh, and shrug. “alright. your fate.”

so you jab into that one spot between his two lower ribs, and he squeals, attempting to pull away.

tears are already streaming down his face, and you laugh at his resolve. it appears he’s not backing down any time soon, and neither are you.

“JUST GIVE IT UP, TOORU!”

even if he wanted to, he couldn’t, because his sides are being tickled so hard that he can barely squeak out a single word.

but then you hit a particularly sensitive spot on his side, and he howls.

“MIYE, STOP!” he cries.

you cease, leaning back and sitting on his lap.

“man, i thought it would never end,” he mutters, wiping his cheeks. “looks like you finally gave up, huh?”

you’re silent for a minute.

“what did you say?”

“huh?”

“earlier, you mentioned someone. miye.”

tooru sits up.

“what are you talking about?”

“who is miye?” you ask.

“babe, i never even mentioned her!”

you freeze.

“so it’s another girl.”

oikawa pauses, opening his mouth and closing it immediately as if he’s been caught. your heart sinks.

you know your boyfriend has always been popular with other girls. you’ve caught so many of them just fawning over him. but you never considered that he would take interest in any of them, too.

not feeling up to being near him anymore, you move off of his lap and get up.

“i think i’m gonna... go to bed,” you mumble.

at that, tooru realizes his plan totally backfired. he had planned for you to get upset with him so that he could reassure you, but you don’t seem to be mad at him at all. you’re just hurt. and that’s even worse.

“hey, wait!” he yells after you, coming in front of you and stopping your movement. you look away from him.

“tooru, it’s fine. i’m just tired, ‘kay?” he knows you’re lying, and you know he knows, but you just don’t feel like talking about it right now.

“baby, i was just kidding,” he explains, eyes wide with honesty. but you hesitate to believe him. after all, it would make sense if he wasn’t.

“but—”

“i don’t even know a miye,” he continues. “i promise you. okay?”

you finally look up to him, and his eyes are genuine. and even though you’re a bit worried, you trust him. you nod and let him pull you in. he sighs, relieved.

after a few minutes, you pull away before punching him square in the stomach. it’s not enough to actually cause him lasting damage, but it still hurts.

“baaaabe,” he whines, doubled over dramatically. “it hurts!”

you laugh.

“well, maybe you shouldn’t have scared me like that. dumbass.”

suna

suna is a generally laid back person

but every once in a while, he likes to stir things up😏

he saw a prank on tiktok a little while back and wanted to try it on you

you were already bickering with him about who got to choose the movie, so he decided it would be the perfect time

he planned to play fight with you for awhile before actually saying the name

but he hadn’t expected your reaction

“babe, it’s my turn!” you exclaim, attempting to grab the remote from him.

“nah,” he shrugs, easily holding it above your head. you sigh frustratedly and jump to grab it, but he’s already moving it out of your reach. he’s wearing that stupidly sexy smirk of his, and you cross your arms.

“you got to choose last time, so i get to choose this time,” you explain, hand open and waiting. he sighs, rolling his eyes.

“but you always choose the dumb ones with the bad acting,” suna complains. your jaw drops.

“WHAT? I DO NOT!” you protest, offended.

“yeah, you do. your taste is terrible,” he provokes, hoping your pride will kick in. he doesn’t have to wait long.

“HEY! take that back, rin,” you glare, eyes narrowed. he just stares at you.

“hey, it’s not my fault you like the shitty movies,” he teases. there seems to be some sort of staring contest between you now.

“okay, that’s it!” you yell before pushing him onto the couch. you climb up his torso and attempt to reach for the remote. he yelps, startled.

“HEY! GIVE THAT BACK, MEI!” he yells when you secure the remote and take it out of his hand. you let go.

“what?”

suna looks up at you. “huh?”

“mei?”

“what?”

“you just said mei.”

his eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“no i didn’t?”

your gut twists uneasily. you’re sure you heard him say the name. so why is he trying to deny it?

“i heard you say the name, rin. who is mei?”

“babe,” he coaxes, hand coming up around your waist and squeezing reassuringly. “i never said that. i think you’re hearing things.” hurt, you push his hand away and get off of him, instead moving to the other side of the couch.

you’re silent for a while, and suna stares at you, waiting for you to say something. when you do, your voice is much smaller than it was before.

“if there’s someone else,” you mutter. “you don’t have to lie about it.” you sigh dejectedly. “i just wish you would’ve told me earlier.”

rintarou’s chest aches at the pain in your voice. he really hadn’t realized how much it had hurt you. it was never his intention, after all.

he crawls over to you, and you turn your face away from him. puzzled, he brings a hand up to your cheek, but it comes back wet. you sniffle, hiding your tears from him, embarrassed at your own sensitivity.

“hey,” he murmurs softly, turning your jaw to face him. “look at me.”

when you finally do, he sighs, mentally cursing himself for making you cry like this. he kisses you softly, hoping maybe it will soothe you.

“i was just kidding, okay? i don’t even know a mei,” he whispers. “see?” he points to his phone, which is recording conspicuously in the corner.

you wipe your tears to make sure you’re seeing this right, and it’s true; he’s recording this entire thing. you turn your gaze to suna and glare at him.

“i’ll let you choose the movie this time?” he offers in an attempt to placate you. you take a pillow from behind you and hit him with it. “ow! what the fuck, babe? i force myself to watch your shitty movie and this is how you pay me? wow,” he mutters.

offended, you hit him again. “take it back!”

he grabs you and pulls you close, nosing at your jaw and chuckling lowly.

“i’m kidding. i love them,” he mumbles against your neck.

“and you.”

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Brown Eyed Girl- Part 4

Pairing: Elliot (Euphoria) x Reader

Summary: Into the reader's second trimester, this dives into the readers cravings and her overall look and feel. Elliot and the reader have a much needed self care night.

Word Count: 1.5k (on the shorter side, sorry)

Warnings: Mentions of sex, swearing, I think that's it.

A/n: Hi guys, sorry I'm really bad at putting out chapters and updating. This is like half edited cuz I'm so tired. I'm in a really bad place still and am constantly beating myself up about posting and stuff. I know that my masterlist isn't updated either, I'm working on that tomorrow. Once school ends I should feel a bit better, it's just all a bit too much right now.

“Hey, can you get me another jar?” I quiz, lifting my head to look down at Elliot laying at my feet who plucks at his guitar, his eyes fluttering shut as he groans. 

“Another jar? Seriously, our kid is gonna be born allergic to peanut butter with how many jars you’ve inhaled over the last few days.” He chuckles teasingly, setting his guitar aside as he huffs, making his way across the room to his backpack, fishing out another car of peanut butter. It had been the most intrusive and expensive craving of mine in my pregnancy journey so far, topping the charts in weirdest cravings between my mom and I. 

Her and I have been talking a lot since I opened up to her a bit more in the weeks that I’ve been pregnant. It was nice to be able to hear from someone that I trust who’s been through this before and to compare experiences. She explained that with Lexi and I, she craved sweeter things and with Cassie she craved more salty foods. She liked to joke that that’s why Cassie’s the way that she is today, bitter and angry. But seriously, to hear from someone first hand about the experiences that I’m going through or will be going through, it’s beyond helpful. Especially knowing that she’s there for me no matter what happens, knowing in her heart that, if she made Lexi and I, that Elliot and I can create someone equally as amazing.

 But the peanut butter thing has only become a big issue that’s only gotten worse the longer I’ve been pregnant. I was never really the biggest fan of peanut butter before getting pregnant, not really going out of my way to eat it. Not that I didn’t like it, I just didn’t like it more than the average human, but now I can’t live without it. I realize how dramatic that sounds but it’s not dramatic when I’m crying at one in the morning, begging Elliot to drive to Fezco’s store to buy me a few jars. It was the only thing that didn’t make me nauseous, it even managed to soothe incessant fits of nausea when it gets bad. 

“It makes me happy, baby, just nod and smile and hand over the jar.” I grin as he slides it into my lap, plopping down on the bed beside me as he returns back to his music. I can’t wait for the time in my pregnancy where he’ll be able to play and sing to the baby, hopefully inviting some movement and flutters from the little one. It was one of his first questions that Elliot asked when we went to the doctors together, excited beyond belief for the time where he can feel the baby respond to him. 

“I just think it’s so funny that out of everything you could’ve wanted, it’s peanut butter. Isn’t Cassie allergic to that shit?” Elliot asks with a chuckle, my eyes rolling at the mention of my older sister. “Maybe it’ll keep her away from us if you continue to eat it.” He winks, a snort leaving me as I shove another spoonful into my mouth.

My relationship with Cassie has not improved in the last few weeks, the blonde only becoming more distant and even more passive aggressive. 

Actually, no. She wasn’t passive aggressive. She was aggressive aggressive. 

She would avoid Elliot at all costs, steering clear from him like he’s the plague walking through our home. Even when my mom, Lexi, Elliot and I would all eat or spend time together, she would put herself at the opposite side of the house or leave all together. She hated that we were all getting along and that we were all excited for this baby and this experience. It seems like the last thing she wanted to be was an aunt, especially when her opportunity to become a mother was taken away from her by someone convincing her out of it. But that was her issue and her mistake to work through, it has nothing to do with me, Lexi or my mom. It was her decision at the end of the day and I don’t think any of the three of us thought that, by supporting her decision to choose, that we were going to be beaten up for it years down the line for making a different decision. 

“Yeah, she’s really stressing me out lately. I heard her and my mom yelling downstairs last night at like eleven- did you hear it?” I ask, watching as he nods slowly, his eyes widening briefly as he sighs. Cassie’s screams had woken me up from my first, sound, comfortable three hours of sleep in weeks, my ears immediately tuning into their conversation down the hall. Cassie was mostly confrontational with my mom and Lexi rather than me, the actual person she had an issue with, but maybe it’s because she knows that I’d rip her apart if she even tried to come between me and Elliot or mention our baby in a slightly negative way. “I thought that she’d be the one to actually understand since she went through the stress of first finding out and trying to navigate all the options. I expected her to react better than whatever this is but apparently I don’t know her as well as I thought I did.” I frown, my head falling back against the pillow as I close the jar of peanut butter, tossing it to my side as I huff. Elliot just watches me, his lips tugging down into a soft frown as I pout. He knows better than anyone that mine and Cassie’s relationship and the wreck that it is has been at the front of my mind, sad that she couldn’t just grow up and talk about what’s bothering her so much. “It’s just unnecessary stress that I don’t need.” 

“Well then let’s get your mind off of it, huh?” He asks, a glint of mischief in his eyes as I chuckle, watching him as he slips out of the room, my hands reaching to rest on my stomach as I listen to him shuffle in my bathroom, returning moments later. “Okay, so this is everything that I found, I figured I could help you unwind a bit in your favorite ways.” He laughs sheepishly, tossing the self care items down onto the bed as I smile softly, listening to him as he continues to rant, his cheeks a bit flushed as his hands fly as he talks. He stopped smoking weed after finding out that we’re pregnant, just to practice so he’s prepared for when the baby comes. It was one of his biggest worries, not wanting to be smoking anything around me while I’m pregnant or our child once they’re born. But I can tell from his anxiousness, his jitteriness and constant fidgeting that’s only gotten worse in the last few weeks that weed was probably helping him more than we both thought it was. 

“This is great, Elliot, thank you.” I whisper softly, catching his attention as he nods, sliding down onto the bed next to me. I move to slide my legs over his lap, my hands reaching for my favorite lotion but he stops me, stealing the bottle from me as I chuckle.

“Just relax, I’ve got you.” He presses a quick kiss to my lips as I lay back against the pillows, feeling his fingers lift my shirt a bit before squirting some lotion on my abdomen, the cold startling me as I gasp. He apologizes in a hushed voice, spreading the soothing substance all over the expanse of my tummy. The mint smell soothes me a bit, my eyes fluttering shut as I enjoy the way his hands feel on me, missing his touch from the few hours where he was working on his music. 

Over the next hour or two, we would do every single self care step that I’ve missed out on in the last few weeks due to my utter exhaustion. We did facemasks, he soothed my every aching muscle and now we rest, my head resting on his chest as his fingers rake through my hair, my eyes drooping heavily as he presses gentle kisses to my forehead.

“I love you, bug.” He whispers, a soft, sleepy smile stretching across my lips as he pulls the blanket further over my shoulders, my arms tightening around his waist as I slip even more into him.

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Euphoria Taglist: @colbysbrocks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx@ssprayberrythings @username-lols @pessimisticbiitch@urmomsangel @iamasimpingh0e @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @rosepetalsparks