#i feel pretty bad for my poor friends who have tried to talk with me about the cyl4 units | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

crdteezv · 7 days ago

Text

Scream - Haechan

Paring: !perv!ghostface!haechan x f! reader (ft. jaemin)

Genre: college au, halloween, smut

Synopsis: Haechan has always been watching, his obsession with you deepening into something possessive and consuming. He's jealous of Jaemin and frustrated that, despite his toxic behavior, you’re still drawn to him. Haechan is set on having you all to himself, and your Halloween party was his best shot...

Warnings: smut. perv/hard dom! haechan, the reader in a situationship with jaemin (he is kind of toxic…), haechan and jaemin are roommates, cheating (depending on how you see it…), non to dub-con, stalker/yandere subthemes, possessive, degradation/praise, rough sex, cumplay (nothing too crazy), knife play(no blood involved), mask kink (but he takes off later on), slight somno, dacryphilia, sadism/masochism, rope play, choking, dirty talk, teasing, kissing, oral (giving), fingering/finger sucking, manhandling, size difference, overstimulation, unprotected sex

Word Count: 11.4k words (officially my longest fic…)

A/n: Since Halloween is today, I wanted to make something a little special for Haechan. I want to clarify that I do love Jaemin; I only made him toxic for the sake of the plot😭. Fair warning this is pretty dark so if you don’t like it, don’t read it. I DON’T CONDONE ANY OF THE ACTS DONE IN THIS FIC.

Haechan was obsessed with you the moment he laid his eyes on you. At first, it was a simple infatuation; he liked to admire you from afar. He always thought you were very pretty and would often stare at you in history class. You obviously didn’t know each other, and he would sit far in the back.

He was starting to shake off his little crush until he noticed that his roommate Jaemin showed an interest in you. Haechan was never really the jealous type, but seeing the way you looked at Jaemin drove him insane. It didn't help that Jaemin always talked about you to him, forcing Haechan to act like he cared.

In reality, he wanted to kill Jaemin simply for being with you.

Haechan tried multiple times during class to approach you and start a conversation, but you always left too quickly or were too busy talking to your friends. So, he took a more subtle approach, leaving notes in your bag when you weren’t looking. At first, they were harmless compliments about how pretty you looked and how he liked your style.

But soon, it escalated.

He began detailing what he would do to you once he had his hands on you and how he would care for you. One time, he noticed you reading those notes in class after you returned from the bathroom and sat down in your seat. The way you squirmed and pressed your thighs together made him instantly hard.

The thought of how much he was affecting you drove him wild.

But in your mind, you thought it was Jaemin leaving these notes. He always drives you to school, and you figured he snuck the notes into your bag every time he drops you off. You planned to ask him about it, but when you did, he told you he wasn’t the one behind the notes.

“Wait, what?” you asked, surprised.

“Yeah, it’s not me. I’m flattered you think I’m that much of a romantic, but I’m not shy about my feelings for you and I wouldn’t need to write them on some post-it note,” he chuckled.

You felt flustered and taken aback by his comment, but now you were confused about who wrote the notes.

“Then if it’s not you, then who is it?”

“I don’t know. Looks like you’ve got a secret admirer,” he said playfully.

“Oh, shut up,” you replied, laughing.

“It’s too bad, though. The poor guy doesn’t stand a chance since you’re mine.”

He was always smooth with his words, and you fell for them every single time. Meanwhile, Haechan was hiding nearby, hearing the entire conversation. He wanted to go over and punch Jaemin for making fun of his crush on you, but he held himself back.

As time passed, you and Jaemin grew closer, sometimes hanging out in his dorm. He often mentioned his roommate Haechan, describing him as quiet and reserved. Although Jaemin was friendly, he sometimes sensed that Haechan didn’t like him, and he couldn't understand why.

One night, you planned to spend the night with Jaemin. You wore a loose crop top that exposed your shoulders and short shorts that highlighted your thighs and curves. Stepping out of his room for a moment to grab snacks for your movie night, you felt comfortable navigating the space.

As you walked into the kitchen, you noticed Haechan cooking food for himself. This was the first time you had seen him up close; he wore a black hoodie pulled over his head and joggers. You gave him a slight smile and introduced yourself, but he couldn’t meet your gaze, distracted by the way your shirt clung to your figure and how well your shorts accentuated your curves.

“So, what’s your name?” you asked.

He snapped back to reality at your question. “Oh, I-I’m Haechan.”

Leaning closer, you studied his features, as if he looked familiar. “Wait, you’re in my history class, right?”

He was shocked that you even noticed him, considering he sat in the back. “Um, yeah. How did you know?” He chuckled awkwardly.

“I remember you presenting your project with my friend Mark.”

“Oh yeah! He and I are pretty good friends. I wanted to live in a dorm with him this semester, but it didn’t work out, unfortunately.”

“Bummer! At least you have Jaemin; he’s pretty great right?”

Haechan felt a surge of anger at how highly you spoke of Jaemin, but he masked it well. “Yeah, he’s cool. We usually just stay in our rooms and keep to ourselves. Anyway, are you looking for something?”

You were so focused on your conversation that you nearly forgot what you came for. “Ah, that’s right! Thanks for reminding me. I was looking for snacks for me and Jaemin and wondered if you could tell me where they are.”

“Uh, check the lower cabinet down there; if not, maybe try the top shelf over there,” he replied.

You bent down to check the lower cabinets, unknowingly putting your ass on display for Haechan. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, cursing under his breath as he began to feel aroused. Realizing the position you were in, you stood up straight.

“Oh, I’m sorry for bending down like that. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable. Also, I don’t see any snacks down there, so I’m going to check the top shelf,” you said.

Haechan found it adorable how flustered you were, and it only made him like you more.

“Ah, it’s okay. Are you sure you can reach it though? He puts them up pretty high.”

“Ah, I’ll be fine.”

You made your way over to the counter next to him and reached up for the bag of chips, still having to get on your tiptoes. He noticed your crop top ride up slightly, revealing a hint of your underboob.

He was starting to lose his mind.

Thoughts raced through his mind—what if you were doing this on purpose? Maybe you were just teasing him. Or maybe it was all in his head, and he was just being a pervert.

But he couldn’t keep watching you struggle like this, so he stopped what he was doing for a moment, got behind you, and grabbed the chips without fail. Your backside pressed against him, and he felt your warmth, sending shivers down your spine.

You also felt something…hard?

He pulled the bag of chips away and gave you a smirk. Embarrassed, you couldn’t meet his gaze.

This was such a boost to his ego.

He knew exactly what he was doing when he pressed his hard-on against your ass. This was the boldest move he had ever made on you.

“Here you go.”

He handed you the chips with a smile.

“T-thanks! You didn’t have to do that.”

“Um, I think I did. You were struggling a bit there,” he teased with a chuckle.

You playfully nudged his shoulder and told him to shut up. You both laughed it off. Just then, Jaemin approached the kitchen, realizing you were taking a long time getting the snacks.

“Hey, baby, what’s taking you so lo—”

He stopped speaking when he saw the position you were both in, confusion flashing across his face. You quickly returned to normal, with Haechan cooking and you closing the snack cabinet.

“Uh, what’s going on here?”

“Oh, your little girlfriend here was struggling to grab the snacks on the top shelf, so I had to help her out.”

“Oh, please! I really could’ve gotten it on my own if you weren’t here.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Jaemin noticed the playful banter between the two of you and felt a twinge of annoyance.

“First of all, she isn’t my girlfriend, and second, it seems like you two know each other.”

You didn’t know why, but hearing him say that felt unsettling. You knew he didn’t want to put a label on things yet, but you felt like you were practically in a relationship. You didn’t want to cause a scene in front of Haechan, so you slowly made your way over to Jaemin with the snacks and said, “Not really; I just found out that we have the same class together.”

“Oh, small world, huh?”

You laughed it off and made your way back into Jaemin's dorm room, leaving him alone with Haechan. It seemed Haechan had finished cooking his food and was heading back to his room.

“Dude, what the fuck was that about? I’ve never seen this talkative whenever I bring people over.”

“Hey, she was the one who talked to me first. I just wanted to make conversation. Besides—”

Haechan walked over and placed a hand on Jaemin's shoulder. “You’ve such a good girl on your hands, and you shouldn’t have anything to worry about.”

He walked away with his food, heading back to his room. Haechan had been wanting to get under Jaemin's skin for weeks, wanting to show him how it felt to be in his shoes. The look on Jaemin's face when he saw the two of you close together was priceless.

Jaemin felt annoyed, sensing the patronizing tone in Haechan's voice. He stormed back into his room and yelled, “I don’t want you talking to him anymore!”

You were confused by his sudden outburst and startled. “What are you even talking about?”

“Oh, don’t act all stupid and innocent. I saw the way he was looking at you.”

“Okay, I think you’re overreacting. I barely know the guy, and this was our first time interacting. I think you’re making a big deal—”

“No, I’m not. Just trust me when I say I have a bad feeling about him, alright?”

“Whatever. Why do you care? I’m not your girlfriend, right?”

He instantly remembered what he had said to Haechan earlier, knowing you would bring it up.

“Listen, baby—”

“Oh, don’t start with this shit again. I’m sick of you treating me this way.”

“But you know I didn’t want to put a label on us yet.”

He always said the same thing: that he wasn’t ready and didn’t want to be serious. How long would it take for him to recognize your feelings? You was starting to get fed up with him.

“Then why am I even here with you if you don’t want to take me seriously?”

“Oh, please. We both know why you wanted to spend the night here.”

You hated how entitled he was toward you. You genuinely wanted to spend some quality time together without any expectation of sex, but that was all he seemed to think you were good for. Your anger got the best of you, and you slapped him across the face.

“You’re such a jerk. I wanted to spend time with you and enjoy your company, but all you can think about is sex. It’s pathetic.”

You started to grab your things and get ready to leave. He reached out and grabbed your arm.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?”

You shrugged him off, shot him a cold look, and said, “Home. I don’t want to be with someone who only sees me as a hookup.” With that, you slammed his door behind you.

Haechan overheard the entire conversation and threw his fists in the air. He hated how Jaemin treated you and knew you deserved better—someone like him. One way or another, he was going to make you his.

Whenever he saw you in class, you would smile and wave, but that was it. He tried to talk to you, but you would avoid him. You needed space and time to heal from the situation, and this infuriated Haechan because he thought he was getting closer to you after your conversation.

So, he took it to the next level.

He tried to learn everything about you. At first, he looked for your social media, which was easy since you were mutuals with Jaemin. Haechan never followed you, of course, but he would scroll through your posts and may or may not have jerked off to some of them. He stalked you whenever you got off work and went home since you didn’t live on campus but close to the school.

He watched you almost every night, admiring your beauty. He thought about how he could sneak into your room late at night when everyone in your house was sleeping, but he knew he couldn’t pull it off unless you were alone.

Luckily for him, Mark mentioned that your parents would be out for the week and that you were planning to throw a Halloween costume party. Haechan started coming up with a crazy plan to get himself in. Once everyone left for the night, it would be just the two of you.

Everything was going to be perfect…

You've been receiving calls from your friends ever since you began organizing everything for the party. You've been busy all day running back and forth, getting your house ready. Your friends were supposed to bring all the food and snacks right before the party started. After taking some time away from Jaemin, you decided to talk to him again. He explained that he was genuinely sorry for what he said and didn’t mean it. He sees you as more than just an outlet for his pleasure; he genuinely likes you for who you are and values your relationship. He always believed it was best for the two of you to take things slow and not rush into anything, even though you might not agree. Yet, somehow, he always manages to make you give in to his wishes.

He offered to help you decorate the place as a truce. You started working on some decorations without him and were now waiting for him to arrive. However, you kept getting random calls from an unknown number, which you initially thought were scam calls trying to get personal information, so you ignored them. But your phone wouldn’t stop ringing.

Deciding enough was enough, you picked up the phone.

“Hello? Who is this?”

Silence. All you could hear was heavy breathing on the other line. Feeling creeped out, you hung up. Not even seconds later, your phone rang again, and you were getting annoyed.

“Okay, I’m serious now. Who is this, and why do you keep calling me?”

“First of all, it’s rude to hang up before letting the other person talk, sweetie,” the mysterious man said in a low, husky voice. You couldn’t tell who it was.

“Well, you were just breathing into the phone without saying a word. What do you expect me to do?”

“Feisty one, aren’t you? I didn’t know you had such an attitude.”

Unease settled in as his tone suggested he knew you.

“Do I know you?”

“Oh, you will soon. Just know that I always have my eyes on you.” His tone was harsh and direct. “I struggled hard to get your attention, and now I’m finally glad I have it.”

You started to feel uneasy and wondered how he even got your number, but you still weren’t buying any of it.

“Yeah, right. If this is a prank, it’s a lame one. How did you get my number?”

“That you don’t need to know. But I’m being honest with you, sweetheart. This isn’t a prank.”

You started to think this might be your secret admirer who’s been leaving you love notes. You also considered the possibility that Johnny or Mark had set this up to mess with you. They both loved to pull pranks, but their jokes were usually harmless, and they wouldn’t take it this far. But who else would have your number and be willing to pull a stunt like this? It made sense that they could have shared it with whoever was on the other line since both of them had it.

You’d had enough. In a firm tone, you said, “Look, I know you’re probably one of Johnny’s or Mark’s friends trying to mess with me. Tell them this prank is just embarrassing, and they need to step it up next time. And for the record, I wouldn’t be interested in you anyways because I’m already in a serious relatio-.”

“Oh, sweetheart, we both know that’s not true.”

His bold comment caught you off guard.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You and Jaemin aren’t even official. You’re just telling yourself that to make yourself feel better, but he doesn’t even have feelings for you.”

“How do you even kn—”

“Like I said, darling, I have my eyes on you.”

A shiver ran down your spine as you realized that this might be someone you know.

“Besides, I could treat you way better than him. He’s no good for you.”

Before you could respond, you heard a knock at your door.

It must be Jaemin.

“Oh, looks like your wannabe prince charming has arrived. Go be with him one last time, because once I’m through with you, you won’t need him anymore.”

“I—”

“See you later, sweetheart.”

With that, he hung up. You sank to your knees as panic took over, your chest tightening. Who was this guy, and how did he know so much about you and Jaemin? Was he some kind of stalker? Could this all really be just a sick prank?

A flood of questions ran through your mind, overwhelming you. You heard another knock, snapping you out of your thoughts. With Jaemin waiting, you took a deep breath, opened the door, and let him in, first scanning the area to see if the mysterious guy was still watching you. Seeing no one, you tried to compose yourself. Jaemin noticed you were on edge and asked what was wrong. You told him everything that had happened, and he was shocked. You left out the stranger’s comment about you and Jaemin, not wanting to stir up any more issues between you two.

“Oh, baby, I’m sorry you’re going through this. Whoever this guy is, he’s a sick freak who needs to be dealt with. I can’t believe this is the same guy who’s been leaving those weird sticky notes.”

“I know… At first, I wondered if this could be one of Johnny’s or Mark’s pranks.”

“Come on, you think Johnny or Mark would pull something this crazy?”

“No, but I have no idea who else it could be.”

“They’ll be at the party later tonight, right? Pull them aside, and ask if this is some prank. If it’s not, we’ll figure out what to do next.”

You nodded in agreement, and the two of you returned to decorating the house. You placed fake pumpkins and spiders around while Jaemin hung up skeleton streamers, letting him handle the tougher tasks. He owed you after the way he’d been treating you lately.

When you finally finished, you both slumped onto the couch, exhausted but satisfied with the setup.

“Thank you so much for your help! If I’d done this alone, I’d never be ready in time for the party.”

He gave you a warm look, his voice sincere. “No problem, love. Anything for you.”

You found it a bit off-putting whenever he use pet names, something usually a thing that couples do. He acted like you two were official but didn’t want to label it. You began to think about what the mysterious man had said on the phone and started to wonder if his words might hold some truth.

“Hey Jaemin, can I ask you something?”

He shifted his position toward you, sensing that this was going to be serious.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

"Look, I know you’re not big on labels, but I at least want to know if you have feelings for me or not. I don’t want to invest all my energy into this if you’re not even interested—"

Before you could finish, he cupped your face with both hands and kissed you passionately.

“Of course I have feelings for you, I always have. I know I haven’t been treating you the best, and I’m just terrible at communicating my feelings. It really takes me time to open up, but I only care about you, alright?"

You nodded and believed what he was saying. But now there was a noticeable tension in the air, and you began to feel overwhelmed. You could see the lust in his eyes, and it was clear that he wanted you badly. The tension became too much, and you both started to passionately kiss. You straddled his lap, feeling yourself melt against him. He wrapped both hands around your waist and slowly lowered them to cup your ass. You whimpered in response, not wanting him to stop touching you like this.

“Mhm, you like that? You’re already shaking for me, pretty girl.”

The fact that he called you “pretty” made you feel hot all over. He always knew how to make you flustered. Too embarrassed to say anything, all you could do was respond. He flipped you onto your back on the couch, positioning himself on top of you.

“Let me take it from here.”

He resumed kissing you, moving down to your neck. One of his hands lifted your shirt and squeezed your chest. A loud moan escaped your lips, and you felt him smirk against your skin. Then he twisted your nipple, eliciting a yelp of pleasure as you threw your head back against the couch. You didn’t want him to stop. With his other hand, he slid down to your panties and noticed the dampness forming between your legs.

“Oh, look what we have here. How are you already so wet for me?”

His teasing drove you wild, and you felt hot and bothered ever since he confessed his feelings for you. That reassurance was what you had been waiting for, and it felt amazing knowing he felt the same way. He pulled your panties aside and began to finger your wet core. He didn’t waste any time, shoving two fingers inside you, and you eagerly welcomed him. You became a babbling mess, unable to form coherent sentences. He knew how much you loved this and took it a step further, rubbing your clit with his thumb. You wanted to cum right then and there, unable to stop moaning about how good it felt.

“P-please don’t stop…”

Your plea only spurred him on, and he didn’t slow down. He could feel you getting close, your walls pulsing around his fingers.

“I’m g-gonn cu-”

Right before you were about to climax, he pulled his fingers out. You winced at the emptiness now settling in your core.

“I’m sorry, baby, but I need to be inside you now.”

He lowered his joggers and pulled out his cock. He grabbed your legs, pushed them back, and thrust his length deep inside you. You felt overstimulated and ready for another round.

He began to fuck you at a rough, sloppy pace. Whenever you had sex, he expected you to keep up with him when he got carried away like this. Sometimes, though, he took his time and gave you all his attention, but tonight wasn’t one of those nights. This time, he barely looked at you, his eyes closed as he focused on his pleasure. He picked up the pace even more, and you could sense he was getting close. You weren’t even close to cumming and wished he would slow down. It had barely been a minute, and he was already on the brink.

“F-fuck, baby, I’m close…I’m going to cum in your mouth this time—open up—”

You didn’t argue; you opened your mouth. He pulled your hair with one hand and shoved your face onto his length. You felt a rush of his cum flow down your throat, but it was too much, so you tapped on his arm to pull out. He finished on your face and chest.

“God, that was amazing. I’m sorry if I rushed things at the end; you just made me feel so fuckin’ good, you know?”

You could only nod in response, barely able to meet his gaze.

“Hey, did you at least cu—”

Before he could finish, you both heard a knock at the door. It was probably one of your friends coming over with snacks and drinks. Glancing at the time, you realized the party was starting in less than an hour. Panic set in as you took in your half-naked state.

“Fuck, I think that’s Jisung. He said he would come a little early to help set up. I can’t let him see us like this—”

“Hey, don’t worry. Why don’t you go take a shower and clean yourself up? I’ll let him know you’re getting ready and help him out!”

You gave him a quick kiss to thank him and rushed to the bathroom to get ready for the party.

You were all dressed up in a costume and decided to be a witch. You had the whole getup with the broom and hat. You wore a ruffled black dress that accentuated your figure and lifted your chest. You were still thinking about what had happened between you and Jaemin earlier and wished he had at least made you finish instead of leaving you feeling unsatisfied. You were hoping that once everyone leaves your house you guys can go at it again.

An hour later, your party was in full swing, and it felt like the whole school had shown up. This was what happened when you left Johnny in charge of inviting people; he knew practically everyone. It didn’t matter to you as long as people were having a good time. But speaking of Johnny, you still wanted to talk to him and Mark about the strange calls you had been receiving.

Hours passed, and before long, it was Halloween.

After spending what felt like forever looking for Johnny, you finally spotted him arriving late as usual, dressed as the Joker. You saw that he was dressed as the Joker, while Mark stood beside him, once again in his Spiderman costume. They were both drinking and having a good time. You walked over to greet them, and they both stood up to hug you.

“Oh hey, sorry we’re late. We had to pre-game beforehand,” Johnny said with an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, it’s really his fault. If it were me, I would’ve been here on time,” Mark chimed in.

“Dude, no you wouldn’t. Besides, you’re only here because I invited you. I could’ve easily not told you about it,” Johnny retorted.

“Well, I would’ve known about the party regardless since you decided to invite literally EVERYONE from school,” Mark shot back.

There they go again, bickering like an old married couple. You felt your annoyance rising and chimed in.

“GUYS, can you not do this right now? I need to talk to both of you in private.”

They stopped arguing, noticing the concern in your eyes. They followed you into the empty hallway, where there was no one else around.

“Listen, I know you guys like to pull pranks on people, but don’t drag me into it.”

They exchanged confused looks.

“Umm, what are you talking about? We didn’t pull any pranks on you,” Johnny replied, still looking lost.

“Are you serious? This isn’t funny. I’ve been getting calls from some strange guy saying he’s watching me and leaving weird notes in my bag.”

Mark and Johnny each placed a hand on your shoulders, their expressions sincere.

“We’re serious. Whatever’s going on with you isn’t our doing. But it sounds scary, and you should involve the police if it escalates further,” Mark said.

At that moment, you realized they were telling the truth.

“Yeah, if he calls again, I’ll report him to the police. Sorry for pinning this on you guys. I should’ve known you wouldn’t do anything this crazy.”

They both hugged you, and Johnny added, “Hey, it’s all good. We like to joke around a lot, but never to this degree. Whoever this guy is sounds like a creep.”

“Yeah, I know. Anyway, I won’t hold you guys up too long. Enjoy the party! I’m going to get some fresh air outside.”

“Alright, if you need us for anything, just call.”

You nodded and went your separate ways.

Making your way to the patio, you thought you’d be alone, but to your surprise, someone was already there. He wore a black leather jacket, gloves, black pants, and heavy-duty boots, topped off with a Ghostface mask to complete the look.

Such a cliché.

“Nice costume you’ve got there,” you said, trying to make conversation.

Haechan turned to you, trying to act normal, though he hadn’t expected to see you so soon. He had planned to wait outside until everyone left, then sneak inside when you were alone. But the party had lasted longer than he anticipated, and he didn’t want to seem suspicious around you.

“Ah, thanks! I had this mask lying around in my closet and wanted to wear it tonight.”

You could tell he was lying and called him out.

“Let me guess, you bought it last minute and couldn’t find anything better to wear?”

“Aww, how did you know?”

“Oh come on, everyone dresses up as Ghostface for Halloween. It’s kind of basic, if you ask me. No offense.”

“Ouch! Tell me how you really feel?” he said playfully.

“Sorry, I’ve just been stressed out all day and I’m lashing out at people. My apologies.”

He noticed you started to fidget and suggested that you both sit down on the outdoor sofa.

“Hey, it’s okay! I know we may not know each other, but I’m willing to hear you out.”

“Are you sure? You should be inside with the others, having fun. I don’t want to dump all my problems on you.”

“I am fine being just right here with you.”

You don’t know why, but you feel your body tense up a bit hearing him say that.

He leaned back on the couch, both arms spread across the back, ready to hear what you had to say.

“Besides, parties aren’t my scene. I only came here because a friend of mine really wanted me to come. Now tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Alright, I got this weird call earlier today from this mysterious guy saying that he is watching me at all times, and it’s been creeping me out. I've also been receiving these notes in school, and I’m thinking it’s from the same guy.”

He knows that you are talking about him, and he has to act normal about it.

“Wow, that's kind of scary. I mean, maybe it’s just someone trying to mess with you, being that it's Halloween and all.”

“At first, I thought it was a prank done by my two other friends, but when I asked them about it, they both said it wasn’t them.”

He switched his position, crossed his arms, and was now manspreading beside you. You couldn't quite understand why, but even though you had no idea who this guy was or what he looked like under that mask, he still seemed so attractive to you. You tried to keep your composure, shifted in your seat, and pressed your thighs together. You knew you shouldn’t feel this way toward anyone but Jaemin, but Ghostface was kind of doing something to you right now.

He noticed the subtle effect he was starting to have on you. He didn’t want to make it obvious, though, and just acted like he didn't notice. You can’t see it, but he has the biggest smirk on his face right now.

“Huh, that's weird. What did he even write on the notes?”

“Well, at first, they were sweet and innocent about how pretty he thought I was and how they liked the way I styled my hair. But down the line, it just got creepier and sexual, and I…” You began to glance down at your lap, fiddling with your thumbs.

He noticed that you were starting to get uncomfortable from just talking about it, so he just backed off.

“Hey, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But have you thought about reporting it to the authorities?”

“Only if he calls me again.”

You said in a blunt tone while giving him a deadpan look. He knows that you aren’t messing around this time. It wasn’t going to stop him because he knew he was going to get what he wanted by the end of tonight.

He scooted closer to you and placed a hand on your thigh. Your body went stiff, and you fell frozen in your spot.

“If this is really bothering you that much, you should end the party early so you can go to bed and sleep on it. You seem on edge; all these people at your house aren't going to make it any better.”

You started to feel warm inside from the way he was caressing your thigh. You shouldn’t feel this sensitive. He then proceeded to get up and said,

“Well, I’m going to head out now; it’s starting to get late. I hope you figure out your little stalker problem soon, sweetheart.”

You were taken aback by the sudden nickname and it almost felt familiar to you. You said your goodbyes to him and wished him a good night. He closed your patio door, and you decided to stay outside for a little while.

You wondered what he looked like under the mask…

Some time passed, and as the night went on, you started to feel more and more anxious. You paced back and forth on the patio, still trying to figure out who would even try to stalk you like this. Jaemin spent the whole night looking for you, and he asked Johnny where you were. Johnny told him where to find you, and Jaemin headed towards the backyard. He went outside to your patio and saw you pacing back and forth, shaking.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? I was looking for you all night, and I see you here hiding out from your own party.”

You looked up at him, and he could tell how freaked out you were. He went over to hug you, and you rested your head on his chest. He slowly patted your head and tried to calm you down.

“Now tell me what’s going on.”

You filled him in on everything that happened and how you talked to Mark and Johnny, who said that it wasn't them pulling pranks on you. Jaemin was very protective of you, and he wanted to keep you safe at that moment.

“So what are you going to do now?”

“I think it’s best if I end the party early and let everyone go home. I’m starting to get pretty tired, and I just want all of these people out of my house now,” you said with a slight laugh.

“Hey, let me at least spend the night here with you. I want to be able to protect you if anything happens.”

You loved how sweet Jaemin was, and you agreed to his offer. Together, you went back inside, stopped the music, and told everyone that the party was over. As guests started to leave, your house gradually fell silent.

Now it was just you and Jaemin.

You both made your way to your room, where you lay back on your bed, staring at the ceiling while Jaemin stood above you, looking down.

“Hey, on the bright side, you threw a really good Halloween party. Everyone seemed to have fun,” Jaemin said, trying to comfort you.

“Yeah… I just wish this wasn’t happening to me, you know? Like, why me? What did I do to deserve this?” Tears formed in your eyes as you covered your face with your hands, trying to hide your emotions. Jaemin quickly rushed to your side, sitting on the bed and attempting to comfort you. He gently pulled your hands away from your face and wiped away your tears.

“Hey, none of this is your fault. Whoever is doing this to you is just a loser trying to mess with your head.”

Jaemin was right. Whoever was behind this was just a creep projecting their weird fantasies onto you. You looked directly into his soft eyes and felt like you could melt for him, just as you had earlier in the day.

“Hey, let’s not dwell on this anymore, alright? I wish we had spent more time together during the party. Where were you most of the night, anyway?”

“Oh, I was outside in the backyard for most of the time. I wanted to be left alone. When I first got there, I thought I would be alone, but there was some guy dressed as Ghostface chilling on my patio. I talked to him a bit, but he just left.”

“Ghostface… I don’t remember seeing anyone in that costume. Did you get his name?”

“That’s the thing; for some reason, it slipped my mind, and I forgot to ask. He didn’t stay long at the party, anyway. He said it wasn’t really his scene, so that’s probably why you didn’t see him.”

Jaemin didn’t think much of it and decided to change the subject.

“Anyway, you didn’t even comment on my costume. What do you think?”

You were so distracted by everything that you hadn’t even acknowledged his outfit. He had chosen a classic vampire costume but with a twist—his shirt was sleeveless, revealing his toned arms. To be honest, you couldn’t stop looking at them and wished he could pin you down with them. Ever since he left you feeling a little dissatisfied earlier, you wanted to go another round with him. You sat up on your bed, facing him, and traced small circles on one of his arms, giving him a bashful look.

“I think you look good, even though you chose one of the most basic costumes in the book.”

He scoffed playfully, acting hurt by your comment. “Says the one who is dressed as a witch.”

“Hey, in my defense, my priority was making sure the party ran smoothly, and I didn’t have time to come up with a more creative costume.”

You both laughed and as you resumed looking at each other, the lust in your eyes grew palpable. He started to lower his hand onto your thigh, slowly rubbing it back and forth. Then, he leaned in to kiss you, and you welcomed his advances. As he climbed on top of you, you moaned beneath him. Just as things were getting serious between you two, Jaemin’s phone began to ring. Initially, he considered ignoring it, but when he saw it was his mom, he knew he had to answer. You both paused what you were doing and he stepped out of the room for a moment so he could take the call. When he returned, he wore a sad expression.

“I’m sorry to do this to you, but my mom got called in to work last minute, and I have to go watch my little sister. Do you think you’ll be fine on your own?”

“Oh, yeah, I will. Plus, it’s getting pretty late anyway, and I’m just going to sleep. I’ll be fine, really!”

He apologized once more, kissed you on the forehead, and then left your house, leaving you alone.

Or so you thought…

Little did you know, Haechan had been hiding out in your closet. After he had left you by yourself on the patio, he claimed he was going home, but in reality, he went upstairs to your room to rummage through your things. He even stole a pair of your panties and took off the mask for a moment to breathe in your scent, reveling in it. He had been waiting for you to heed his earlier advice and kick everyone out so it could just be the two of you.

But when Haechan heard your and Jaemin's voices nearing your room, he panicked and quickly hid in your closet. He had been planning to sneak out once both of you were asleep, intending to come after you another night. However, he got lucky tonight with Jaemin having to leave you alone so abruptly.

He was waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Peering through the crack of the closet door, he saw you passed out on your bed, looking peaceful. You were so tired that you had forgotten to change out of your costume. Watching you sleep, he thought you looked so pretty that he almost hesitated to touch you.

But he just couldn’t help it when you looked so easy for him to take. He started by lightly squeezing your chest with his gloved hands. He had always wanted to know how your tits would feel in his hands, and he loved it. He noticed you started to shake a bit and was afraid you might wake up, but you were still fast asleep.

So he decided to take it a step further.

With his free hand, he went down to touch your pussy and noticed how wet you were. It was probably because of Jaemin earlier. Haechan's blood was boiling, and he wanted to be the one to make you feel this good.

He slowly slid your panties off and slipped a finger inside you, noticing how quickly you were soaking his gloves.

“God, you’re such a slut. He barely even touched you, and you’re already this fucking wet for him,” he mumbled under his breath so you wouldn’t wake up. You began to fidget around in your sleep, and he started to get on edge. It turned him on to see you become such a mess for him, even though you were fast asleep.

He decided enough was enough and shoved another finger inside you while simultaneously rubbing his thumb against your clit. You started to toss and turn even more, and he didn’t even care if you woke up at that point; he just wanted to make you cum.

You began to slowly wake up, thinking it was Jaemin who was making you feel this good. You said, “Baby, what do you think you—”

Before you could finish your sentence, as you began to open your eyes, you saw it wasn’t Jaemin touching you, but he was wearing a Ghostface costume. It looked like the same guy you had talked to earlier that night.

“H-hey what are y-you do-”

He pulled his fingers out of you and pushed them down your throat, making you taste yourself. With his other hand, he pinned your wrist above your head while pressing his thigh against your cunt.

“Oh, rise and shine, my love. It seems that you’re finally awake. You see, I was just having a little fun. I mean, look at you. How could I not?”

You were still trying to process everything that was happening to you right now. Why was the Ghostface guy from earlier still in your house, and why was he doing this to you? You tried to fight back, but he was simply too strong and bigger than you. He had the physical advantage, and you felt so frail underneath him.

“Now you’re probably wondering who I am and why I’m doing all this to you. Well, if you haven’t guessed it by now, I’m the one who’s been stalking you and who called you earlier today."

Goosebumps spread across your body as fear set in. He spoke in a cold tone as if he didn’t care about how he had been treating you. You tried to speak, but with his fingers deep in your throat, it was difficult. A hint of remorse flickered in his eyes, and he withdrew his fingers. You coughed and gasped for air, struggling to catch your breath.

“W-why are you even doing this to me?”

He began to caress your face with his hand, and when you turned away from his touch, he grabbed your jaw to make you look at him.

“You better keep those pretty eyes on me, or you’re seriously going to regret it. As for why I’m doing this... to be honest, I’ve been obsessed with you for quite some time now. It was only a matter of time before I sneaked into your room and took what I’ve been wanting so badly-” He lowered his hand from your jaw down to your neck and began to squeeze around your throat.

“You.”

His words sent shivers down your spine, leaving you gasping for air once again. You tried to beg and plead for him to stop, but it only made him harder; he was practically getting off on seeing you struggle like this.

He loved to see the fear in your eyes and was savoring every moment of this. He wanted to take it up a notch and make you even more scared. With his other hand, he unzipped his jacket, and from the inside pocket, he pulled out a knife. Your eyes widened, and you began to shake and shiver out of fear.

“Shh, sweetheart, I’m not going to hurt you with this. I would never do such a thing...”

You didn’t believe a word he was saying. You couldn’t understand how he had managed to sneak into your house and get a hold of you like this. He started to caress the dull part of the knife against your face, and you squirmed.

“P-please, just stop all of this…”

“Why should I? You look so pretty all scared for me, I’m just having some fun.”

You begin to tense up beneath him as you feel tears start to form in your eyes. He smirks underneath his mask and he brings himself closer to you and tilts your head to the side.

“Aww, are you starting to cry, my love? That’s only going to turn me on even more…”

You felt so disgusted by the way he was talking to you. You were scared out of your mind right now, and you wished Jaemin didn’t have to leave so soon.

“Besides, Jaemin makes you cry way more than I do.”

You were taken aback by how this guy even knew about your relationship with Jaemin. He never talked about you to many people and preferred to keep your relationship private, just as you did.

“How do you—”

“How many times do I have to tell you? I always have my eyes on you.”

He slowly started to drag the knife down your face, moving it toward your neck as he released your throat.

“I see how he makes you cry whenever you're alone at night after arguing with him for the millionth time, or all the times he doesn’t even look your way at school and ignores you the day after you argue.”

You hated how much he seemed to know about your relationship with Jaemin; it only deepened your pain.

“Even after everything he’s done to you, you still run your pretty ass back to him. God, you can be so stupid sometimes.”

He pressed the knife against your throat.

“Now imagine my surprise when I called you earlier today and saw you welcome that jerk with open arms and—”

He began to rub circles against your warmth.

“Open legs. You’re such a slut; the sex can’t be that good. He didn’t even let you come again, did he?”

You hated how accurate he was. You always found yourself running back to Jaemin despite all the awful things he’d done to you. But you tried to defend him, saying, “Well, we w-were going to try it again tonight, and I—"

All he did was laugh in your face. Even he knew you weren’t sure of yourself, the hesitation clear in your voice. He could tell you were starting to have doubts. Then he moved the sharp edge of the knife against your sternum, and you squirmed away from him, but you weren’t going anywhere since he still had you pinned down.

“Ah, baby, don’t move around too much, or you’ll hurt yourself. Plus, we both know he wasn’t going to do shit to you tonight. He was probably going to rush into things as always, leaving you unsatisfied. While I, on the other hand—”

He slowly dragged the knife along your costume, slicing it down the middle.

“Would never leave you feeling unsatisfied and would always make you feel good, because that, my love, is what you deserve.”

You were now exposed, left in nothing but your black lacy bra and panties.

“God, you look so beautiful,” he said breathlessly.

He used one of the ripped pieces of your costume as a makeshift rope to tie your hands together, freeing himself from having to pin them down. You looked so helpless underneath him, and he was loving every second of it.

“Don’t act like you don’t want this…”

He trailed off as he started to drag the knife across your chest; the coolness of the blade against your warm body made you flinch. Your breathing quickened, and fear started to seep in again.

“You like that someone is finally giving you the love and attention you deserve.”

With that, he cut off your bra, leaving your chest exposed for him. He let out a low groan of pleasure and cursed under his breath.

“Everything about you is just perfect.”

He then used the flat side of the knife to glide over your nipples, the cool sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your body. You pulled at your restraints, wishing he would let you go.

“Aww, you’re so cute thinking you can run away from this.”

He dragged the knife across your panties, rubbing the handle against your clothed core. You let out a low whimper, and he wore a big smirk on his face. Then he used the knife to cut off your panties, clearly noticing your arousal.

You tried to close your legs to prevent him from touching you, but he held both of your legs down with his hands.

“God, sweetie. I didn't think you'd be this wet for me.”

You felt incredibly flustered by how much he was starting to turn you on. You didn’t even know who this guy was, yet he somehow managed to get you this worked up.

“I think it’s in your best interest to keep your legs spread open for me.”

You still didn’t want to give in to him and tried your best to hold him off. You started to move and kick him away from you.

“P-please, just l-let me go—”

He silenced you with a hard slap against your cunt.

“If you don’t do what I say, sweetheart, I’ll make this worse for you.” His voice dropped to a calm, unnervingly cold tone.

You felt intimidated by him at this moment and didn’t want to go against his words.

“Please don’t, I’m sorry—”

He delivered another slap against your pussy, catching you off guard and eliciting a soft moan. He was taken aback by the noise you made and felt a surge of desire to tease you about it.

“Aww, don’t tell me you like that, pretty girl. You’re such a slut.”

You couldn’t understand why, but his degrading words ignited something within you. Jaemin would never talk to you like this and rarely said anything degrading, but when Ghostface did, it only turned you on. You found yourself starting to open your legs for him, not wanting to provoke him any further. He liked that you were finally beginning to listen.

“That’s my girl. Stay nice and obedient for me.”

He began to lightly pat the flat edge of the knife against your pussy, specifically targeting your clit. The coolness of it against your warmth made you squirm.

“Ah, ah, remember I said don’t move, sweetie. We wouldn’t want you to get hurt now.”

You tried to stay still, but it was nearly impossible when he teased you like this. Haechan thought to himself that he could drive you even crazier. With the handle of the knife, he started rubbing it against your clit, making you let out a moan.

“You like this, princess? Who would’ve thought you were just as much of a freak as I am?”

You hated how he compared himself to you as if you were the same. Then, he lowered the handle of the knife against your opening and slowly shoved it into your core. You immediately threw your head back against your pillow, letting out a yelp of pleasure. He thrust it in and out at a slow pace, making you wince.

He positioned himself on top of you, continuing to pound into your cunt with the knife while pinching and squeezing your nipples. He was overstimulating every part of your body right now. It was only a matter of time before you caved in for him.

“Don’t tell me you actually like this. Can you be any more pathetic?”

His humiliating words only intensified your arousal. You didn’t even know you could be into any of this. You were too turned on by what he was doing to talk back. He didn’t like that very much and began to shove the handle into you at a rough pace while he let go of your chest. He then rubbed his fingers against your clit.

“When I ask you a question, I expect you to give me an answer,” he said in a stern tone.

You couldn’t hold out any more and surrendered.

“P-please, g-go faster. I n-need you so bad… fuck.”

You couldn’t help it; the look on your face was priceless. He wore a playful smirk, clearly reveling in how quickly you had given in.

He finally had you wrapped around his little finger.

“Aww, you need me, sweetie? How badly do you want it?” he teased.

“S-so b-bad… ah, I think I’m going to cu-”

He already knew you were getting close; you started making a mess around the handle, forming a puddle beneath you. He shoved it into you at a rougher pace and rubbed your clit fast with his other hand until you instantly came all over the knife, and he continued to fuck you through your orgasm.

"That’s it, my love. Let it all out for me."

You reached the peak of your climax and fell breathless. However, he wasted no time shoving the handle of the knife down your throat.

“Now be a good girl and taste yourself for me.”

You were caught off guard by his actions, letting him do what he wanted as you sucked your juices off the handle.

“Mhm, there’s my girl. Get some practice, because you’re about to suck me off next.”

Your eyes widened at his words. You barely felt like you could go another round, and now he wanted you to please him? Seeing your eyes glazed over and your tongue swirling against the handle was making him hard. He began to shove it deeper into your throat, making you gag. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and Haechan couldn’t handle it anymore. He took the handle off your mouth and placed it on your bedside table. Then, he sat at the edge of your bed and made you kneel in front of him.

He zipped down his pants, exposing himself as your hands remained tied behind your back. He smirked and lightly tapped his cock against your face.

“I know this isn’t your first time, so you know what to do, princess. Blow me.”

You didn’t waste any time, starting by slowly licking your way up his shaft. You began at the base and made your way to the tip, tasting the pre-cum that dripped out of him. Growing impatient, he gripped your hair, shoving your face down onto his length. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he thrust into your throat, making it hard to manage with your hands tied. You wanted to grip his thighs as he fucked your throat so vigorously, and the way you gagged around him only drew a grunt of pleasure from him. He threw his head back, clearly lost in the moment, then let go of your hair. But you continued to move up and down his cock, loving every second of it.

“Fuck, baby, you’re doing such a good job for me. I can’t wait to ruin you after this.”

The thought of him having his hands on you again turned you on even more. You felt him start to pulse in your throat, and he was getting close. Just before he was about to cum, he pulled your hair and shoved your face into the bed, lifting your hips to meet him. In one smooth heated motion, he pressed into your needy core, pulling a moan from your lips that nearly escaped as a scream.

“Fuck, how are you so wet for me all over again? You're dripping all over me, princess.”

You were flustered, struggling to understand why you were still so aroused by him. He bullied his way deep inside you, the tip of his cock pressing against your walls. All you could do was moan out how good he made you feel, and he occasionally spanked your ass just to see your reaction. Tears rolled down your cheeks from the overwhelming pleasure.

“Aww, there you go crying again. God, if it wasn’t for this mask right now, I’d lick all your pretty tears away.”

Then it hit you.

You’d been going at it with this guy for a while now, and you still didn’t know what he looked like. The fact that you didn’t know only turned you on more. With this realization, you squeezed around his cock, and he grunted out pleasure.

“Fuck, baby, do that again for me.”

You were so lost in your own world that you completely didn’t hear anything he just said.

He grabbed your restrained hands like handles, slamming you down onto his dick, which definitely got your attention, pulling a moan from your lips that was practically a scream.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours? You’re thinking way too much for me, love and you can’t even focus on what I’m saying."

He started fucking you at a rough pace, and you shoved your face into the pillow, unable to handle everything. He let go of your wrists and grabbed your hair instead, bringing your face close to his. Your head rested against his shoulder as he whispered in your ear, “I don’t want a single thought in that head unless I put it there.”

He wasn’t messing around anymore and he wanted your full attention on him.

“Besides-”

He pushed your face back down into the bed, hovering over your back as he whispered in your ear, “I don’t want you thinking about Jaemin anymore after I’m done with you.”

Your eyes widened, and you completely forgot about him. You were so immersed in what you had going on with the masked guy that you didn’t even consider how Jaemin would feel about this. Haechan noticed a picture of you and Jaemin on the nightstand.

“Oh, look at that, baby. You and him look so happy together.” He got closer to your ear, and his words sent chills down your spine. “Wait until he finds out you let a stranger in a Ghostface mask fuck you balls deep into your bed…I mean, how much more pathetic can you be?”

A wave of guilt washed over you. You hated how he was humiliating you like this, yet you were still aroused by it. You started to tighten around him once again, and he let out a low moan in response.

“Atta girl, you’re finally listening to me. You know I find it so interesting that you don’t even know what I look like yet I’m turning you on so much.”

He wrapped his gloved hands around your throat, and you could feel the rugged leather material pressing against your skin.

“You’re so fucking gross for being turned on by this. Here I thought I was the biggest pervert between the two of us. Turns out it’s you.”

You let out a moan at his degrading words, completely giving in. You didn’t care anymore; you embraced it. Jaemin never made you feel this way, and this masked guy was doing so much more than he ever could.

All of a sudden, he changed the position, and now you were straddling him, sitting in his lap. With both hands firmly gripping your waist, he looked up at you, a playful glint in his eyes visible beneath his mask.

“Ride me.”

You were caught off guard by his demand, but you didn’t have any problem complying. He finally untied your hands, and you grabbed his length, slowly lowering yourself onto him. A gasp escaped his lips as his head fell back, overwhelmed by the sensation of being inside you again.

You whimpered as you tried to adjust to him, the pain quickly mixing with pleasure as he pulled you down onto him, your moan turning into a scream of bliss. You began to move, bouncing on him with a quick, eager pace, yet your thoughts wandered, wondering about the face hidden beneath his mask. You couldn’t shake the urge to ask.

“I’m sorry to ask you this, but… would you take off your mask? I want to s-see you...” The words spilled out before you could stop yourself.

For a moment, he hesitated, but when he caught the pleading look in your eyes, he couldn’t resist. The thought of your reaction only fueled him, his hands gripping firmly onto your waist as he thrust into you.

“You know what? Since you’ve been so obedient, I think you’ve earned it. Go ahead, take it off.”

His voice was low and teasing, and while he continued to move inside you, you slowly reached up, pulling off his mask. With both hands, you slowly began to lift off his mask, and you couldn’t believe it.

It was Haechan, Jaemin’s roommate.

This all makes so much sense now, especially why he knew so much about your relationship.

The realization left you speechless, mouth slightly agape as Haechan laughed, savoring your stunned expression. “Baby, I left you scared and speechless. You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he teased, making a cheesy joke out of the situation.

Humiliation and shame flooded over you, and you instinctively pushed against his chest to stop, but he only tightened his grip. Shifting positions, he laid you back, your hands pinned beside you as he thrust into you harder, his pace relentless.

“Aww, just a second ago you were bouncing that pretty ass on me, and now you’re all shy because you realized it’s me?” he taunted, angling himself to hit deeper, making you cry out as he struck your most sensitive spot.

“You’re so fucking pathetic, it’s not even funny,” he taunted, watching as you squirmed beneath him. You had never felt so humiliated in your life, especially knowing that Haechan was the one behind all of this. You shouldn’t have been enjoying any of this, yet here you were, spread out for him, letting him take you completely.

Haechan leaned down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. You whimpered into his mouth as he trailed down to your neck, his teeth and tongue teasing your skin with bites and kisses that left you breathless.

“Haechan… you make me feel so good…” you murmured, your voice barely a whisper.

Hearing you finally moan his name pushed him over the edge. He began to wrap his hand around your throat, gripping lightly. “You like this, my pretty girl? Admit it, you wanted me from the moment you saw me back at the apartment. I saw that look you gave me when I pressed myself against you."

You whimpered, shaking your head in denial, though deep down you knew he was right. You had to admit that you were attracted to Haechan the moment you saw him. He looked so attractive in his hoodie, with that sleepy expression on his face making you want him to bend you over right then and there. But with Jaemin weighing on your mind, you weren’t going to act on your attraction to Haechan.

“F-fine. Yes, I did want you,” you admitted. Just hearing you say that makes him want to cum for you right then and there, but he holds himself back.

He didn’t want to be like Jaemin, after all.

“Mmm, that’s my girl. I love how honest you’re being with me now,” he purred, lifting your legs, and pressing them back near your head as he thrust deep into you. “I think it’s time we wrap this up, don’t you think?”

“F-fuck yes, please, just… use me,” you gasped, feeling utterly under his spell, craving every bit of him.

Without hesitation, he drove himself deep into you, and you gripped the sheets as the pleasure intensified. He kissed you deeply, tongues clashing, both of you lost in the blissful sensation. Pulling back, he stared into your eyes, almost in disbelief that you were truly in the palm of his hands.

“You know, at first, I felt a little bad for doing this to you. Seeing you cry to Jaemin about me almost made me want to leave you alone.” He continued to thrust, bullying his way into your sensitive spot again, and both of you nearing the edge. You wrapped your legs around his waist, and arms around his neck, bringing him even closer.

“But seeing how much you enjoy it?” His voice was low, almost mocking. “I don’t feel sorry for you at all.” His words sent a wave of shivers through your entire body.

"You even asked him earlier what you did to deserve this," he murmured, leaning down to whisper in your ear. His tone was cocky, almost teasing.

“Well… nothing, really. I just wanted to do this because I know I can. I know you couldn't resist me, that you wouldn’t stop me from taking what I want." His words made you whimper, and you hid your face in the nape of his neck, overwhelmed.

"So let it happen, love," he continued, his voice dripping with confidence. "I know you want it too… and I'm getting close."

Hearing how sure he had been about you from the beginning only heightened your arousal. He knew that one way or another, he was going to have you here, completely spread open for him. His pace quickened, each thrust bringing you both closer to the edge.

"F-fuck, baby," he gasped, voice strained. "Where do you want it?"

With your legs wrapped around him, you pulled him deeper, meeting his gaze, and in a voice soft yet full of desire you replied

“Inside, please don’t pull out.”

That encouraged him to thrust faster, and soon you both finished together, riding out each other's orgasms. Your moans grew louder and louder, and you couldn't help yourself.

“Mhm, that’s it, sweetheart. Scream for me.”

You yelled out for him as he emptied his load deep inside your aching cunt. Both of you looked down to see the mess you had made, splattered across the sheets and even on his pelvis, leaving some of your juices along his happy trail. Breathless, you gasped for air as he quickly reached for a bottle of water from your bedside table and placed a pillow behind your head. It was the least he could do. Noticing how you were drifting off to sleep, he gently cleaned you up and tucked you back into bed.

“Please don’t tell Jaemin about this. It should come from me first.”

“Oh, does this mean you’re finally going to leave him?”

You stared up at the ceiling, reflecting on everything that had transpired—not just with Jaemin, but with Haechan as well. You realized you deserved better and shouldn’t have to settle for less.

“I mean, yeah. But for this to work, you’ve got to stop stalking me.”

He smirked and leaned down to give you one last passionate kiss on the lips.

“Can’t make any promises… Now, you have a good night.”

He grabbed his mask and headed toward your bedroom door, he glanced back at you with a grin.

“And oh, happy Halloween…”

568 notes · View notes

unabashednightmarepizza · 1 year ago

Text

A/N: Okay I have been playing Genshin for quite some time now, and I'm sure my eyes are hurting like a bitch, but this is a quick idea( and also a short story of a series I'm writing) since I have been reading SAGAU and Creator!Reader works a lot!

Everyone thought, just like Creator!Reader did who played Genshin for hours and built the characters, that Mondstadt would be home. With the jolly people and freedom coursing through the air, and with Venti being the Spirit of Freedom, everyone would listen at least. You were just as terrrified yet also happy and confused as anyone could be, surely they wouldn't execute you, right?

Wrong, so painfully wrong.

Instead Creator!Reader was hunted down blindlessly, who only entered the city with a big smile but left it as soon as possible with a horrified look.

But instead... Razor and Bennett found the Creator!Reader, shivering in the cold with- Was that golden blood?

Razor, since he was raised by wolves, didn't have an exact understanding of the Creator but he listened to his family talk about Them, how they thanked Them with their howls for the food and family and shelter given to them and how they praised the Golden Blood of yours to keep flowing through your very being so that one day, you would come back to Teyvat.

Therefore he knew who you were but Bennett?

Poor boy grew up with the stories of yours! How you created new worlds where there were many different creatures, magic and every kind of ores... Or how you gifted them with many new weaponary and such, how you gave them life and what they have built so far.

How you let them live in peace through their Archon.

So, to see your body covered in Gold blood with a terrified look, their first reaction was to jump up and warm you immediately, patching up any wounds so that their Creator didn't suffer anymore.

But whatever the people must have done to you, had messed you up pretty bad because you, The Creator of All, whimpered in fear and pain, still shaking with your hands up defensively.

"P-Please don't hurt m-me... I swear I didn't mean t-to..."

So, that was how you were coddled up by these two babies while they wondered with rage coursing through them that who did this to you. They weren't stupid, since they were close to their City, they knew it was them and couldn't help but feel shame for their actions. Everyone had been expecting your arrival for quite some time, preparing feasts and what they would say to you in person and then they just...

Blinded by fake religion and ideas, tried to kill you.

How funny Teyvat was more like Earth than you ever imagined?

And they didn't even want to know what would have happened to Teyvat, how angry the Winds and the ground would be at the people for killing the Divine One.

You were still aprehensive as normal, not used to the kindness they were showing you but watching as Razor bring you a very pretty shaped stone with a happy grin and offered it as a token of friendship, you couldn't bring yourself to break his heart as one of the many wolves in his family laid around you protectively.

You asked why he was doing this, when he had no understanding of who you were, when his people were hunting you, but the only answer you got was a confused tilt of his head and a soft spoken,

"You are my lupical and I want you to be happy... They are not my people, they were wrong."

Now Bennett didn't know if he should correct Razor since he was actually talking to their Creator, warn him about not to refer to you so casually, but the big and wide smile on your face as you hugged them thightly to yourself with tears in your eyes which held the stars warmed them both so affectionately and lovingly that they knew you needed this.

You needed to have friends, not worshippers.

And as they, alongside with the Traveller, Klee, Albedo( who was glad he was pulled here by Klee and help you) and Amber who was convinced of who you were by the wounds you had and how you literally breathed life into one of the many burned and ruined forest and was horrified at learning what the Mondstadt did, healed you back and helped you hide, that was when you realized that you did a good job by loving those four and building them up as much as possible.

But those traits weren't the only ones who convinced them. It was how you saw Amber's ambition and praised her for having such a strong dedication to her job to which she bashfully thanked you and cried softly because how kind and generous you were to them even when your life was in danger.

And you didn't forget to tell Lumine to let others deal with commissions and errands, to give herself a rest, with a huge amount of Mora you really didn't know where you got from but was just inside your pouch ( since I chose her and believe the Twins need to hear this) and also about what was going on with her brother and promised to explain more in depth after you were safe to which she held your hand in her warm and calloused ones softly and answered with don't worry about us, Your Grace. Just focus on your life and that's all the gift that you can give to me.

But as much as they loved to have you here and listen to your world and jokes, they also knew you couldn't stay here for much longer. Yes, the forest was big ( and the nature seemed to be hellbent on protecting you) but they knew the Knights wouldn't stop until they got you.

What a surprise that the Crux came to the City, with a frantic Kazuha searching everywhere in the dock for what the Wind whispered to him.

"Our Creator needs help. Help them. Save them."

And that was how you started to wander the streets of Liyue with Kazuha next to you, also hellbent on protecting you especially after seeing the state you were in. The City was literally glowing, and no it wasn't because of the lanterns but you, The Divine Creator who stepped in the City which was raised and built in your name.

He knew there was a famous pharmacy named Bubu Pharmacy and the owner of it was able to heal pretty much every kind of this disease, so he took you there in hopes that the fever you had been suffering from could be solved there.

And it was.

Baizhu, as the usual self-sacrificing man he was, did everything in his power to help you. You knew how his hands were already full with both his own disease and Qiqi who quickly grew on you since she has been playing with you and telling you all about what she learnt about the herbs and the City( she couldn't explain why but she just felt so close to you, as if you were like a parent to her which her caretaker also shared kind of the same love for you) and you were grateful for what they had done to you, how kind they were.

They had shown you the kindness you expected to have when you first arrived, and it wasn't given by other.

Not the most known ones, but the kindest of them all did.

So, as a token, you touched the hand of Baizhu softly one day while he worked to pack you herbs and medicine you might need, stopping him and asking him why he was doing this when he casually( though his heart was beating hard at having you touch hım so softly) replied with a I'm a doctor and you needed help.

You looked at him for some time, then a smile so bright that it made the doctor take a while to stare at you softly overtook your face and you replied You're so strong for carrying such a burden like your disease but still help people, Baizhu.

That was when his suspicions about who you were was proven, since he never told about his disease to anyone (after realizing the golden wounds and how he seemed healthier in your presence) and he immediately went to kneel but was stopped by your gentle hands on his face, rubbing soft circles under his tired yet wide open in shock eyes, his heart almost giving out when your lips touched his forehead softly and blessed hım with your warmth.

Never bow to me, thank you for all you had done for me... Now, let me pay back.

After healing him back and yet once again running away from Liyue so that you weren't hunted down, making the Crux the enemy to Liyue since they were helping you (not that they cared, they loved being pampered by the True God with love, luck and food), a certain sea monster and the eartqueaks of Liyue almost destroyed the whole City for their disrespect so much so that Zhongli had to come back as Rex Lapis and he wasn't even able to stop it until the Wind carried your soft words to Liyue and Osial and made them stop.

Don't punish and destroy them, they don't deserve it...

-- A similar situation happened back in Mondstadt when Dvalin caused chaos after learning what they had done to Divine Creator, roasting the shit out of Venti for his mistake but also was stopped by your gentle caress even from Miles away, to stop hım from harming them. He gave them their lesson anyways, he only needed to find you to protect you as he left the people of Mondstadt in Terror and fear for what they had done.

The "they" in question was obviously the Crux, Baizhu, Qiqi, Xiangling and Shenhe who showed their love and care for you, who was logical enough to listen to you and see the truth for themselves. Xiangling who made you many delicious food you never ate before, Shenhe who was comforted by you about how she wasn't a cursed child and was loved dearly by everyone and most importantly you as she cried into your chest, who believed in her purpose to fit in with humans even with her tendencies, which you found to be a beautiful part of her...( not me reflecting my Shenhe love here ehe ｡⁠◕⁠‿⁠◕⁠｡)

Asking "why are you doing this?" had become some kind of a test, like those in fairytales in your world, to see who was kind and sincere and who wasn't.

And you used it in many nations: Inazuma, Sumeru, Fontaine...

Inazuma was, of course, the WORST so far since Ei was obsessed with Eternity and the Creator, not even listening at all. But even if she didn't, the Kamisato siblings, Kokomi, Gorou, and Thoma believed in you from the very beginning, with many others soon following after them.

Ayaka and Kokomi were the first ones, with Ayaka seeing the sadness in your eyes at how restricted you were, how no one seemed to believe in you and how Inazuma seemed calmer and more happy as soon as you arrived( and how you reassured her to be herself and not live according to what people would say which made her love you and convince her brother to listen, who was glad she did if not... Well, he didn't want to imagine it.) and Kokomi hearing the whispers of the ocean who was the happiest, who cheered for you and didn't stop chanting your name, which lead her to see it for herself and welcome you to Watatsumi Island as the God she worshipped. Who was also praised by you for her smartness and how she worked hard for the Island even if her career plan wasn't this, but was warned to not to overwork which she blushed at and assured Creator!Reader.

Not surprisingly enough, Sumeru was the kindest to you since Nahida knew who you were even before coming to her nation and greeted you herself excitedly, showing you around as her people( Yes, even Tighnari and Al-Haitham who was known to be stern) smiled and offered you a new home.

Fontaine was probably the happiest you had been, after Sumeru, to stay. Furina, as much as she didn't believe in herself, saw right through you and knew who you were, providing you with utmost care and protection ever alonsgide Neuvillette who always hang around you, protected you and even became your friend! Maybe it was the dragon instincts in him, once the closest to you like Zhongli but also one who wasn't blinded like him, as he stayed with you when your fears and nightmares became too much to bear.

Who knew, maybe something more would happen?

And after all the nations realized their mistake, after you defeated Celestia and came to a peace with It, and restored Khaenri'ah who always believed in you from the beginning even years ago, they feared the punishment waiting for them. They didn't want to accept their mistake, blame Celestia for all of it... But they also knew they were blinded by hard and unlogical belief and almost did the most unforgivable sin ever.

They were ready for any punishment from you, even if it included never seeing you again...

But the only answer to their question was a letter written by you, which made them shiver.

The only reason none of the nations who wronged me are not punished severely was because of the names listed below. Shall any harm come to them, your nation would see the true wrath of the Creator.

Thank you to Razor, Bennet, Amber, Klee, Albedo and dear Traveller from Mondstadt.

Thank you to Baizhu, Qiqi, Xiangling, Shenhe, the Crux, Beidou and Kazuha from Liyue

Thank you to Kamisato Ayato and Kamisato Ayaka, Thoma, Gorou, Kokomi from Inazuma.

Thank you to Sumeru, Khaenri'ah, Fontaine and Natlan people for their never ending kindness and belief.

Eternal gratitude and blessings from the Creator, who you helped to gain confidence and power...

3K notes · View notes

deadghosy · 9 months ago

Note

Hi! I hope you're doing great!

So I saw the headcannons of reader as Catnap and Dogday and I fell in love with the way you write! So I was wondering if you could do a headcannon about the reader being bendy from bendy and the ink machine?

Like the reader can draw and bring ink creatures to help around the hotel, maybe draw some decorations for the hotel? Sometimes going full on ink demon form to protect it or just pick up their friends on their back to make them feel taller

And the reader was actually an animator at joey drew studios and died, I think that would be pretty cool!

P.s I would love if the reader was wearing the same suit bendy wore in bendy and the dark revival

HAZBIN HOTEL X BENDY!READER

Prompt: a cute “little” demon becomes a resident who helps with the designs around the hotel!

Starting off. You definitely appeared as baby bendy 😘 with ya cute ass red bow or white bow. What ever you want the bow color as you showed up to the door trying to seem professional as Charlie gushes at your cuteness and lets you in.

The picture of baby bendy in the car, yeah you have that as you literally fuckin' zoom in the hallways drinking apple juice like a bad ass kid….bendy!Reader and chibi!Reader both doing races to make sinners poor😭 lil evil asses….

I imagine Angel dust and Alastor ganging up on you as a team to insult you by your height until you grow up to ink demon from with a roar.

“HOLY SHIT-” “Oh my.” They both said as you they were blew off by the power of your roar. So you felt happy seeing them shocked to see that part of you as Charlie didn’t see it and had commented how adorable you are with your suit.

Shit you are a devil in an angel’s suit‼️

You still wore the suit you had in when you met Audrey…man you miss her. But you are getting taken care of by Charlie and her friends here. Plus her father.

You help design the banners around the place! And even your small ink minions help as well.

I can imagine bendy! Reader being like “fuck it.” Because they can’t reach for the cereal and turn into normal height looking bendy and just starts to act as if it’s normal. While in the background, the crew has pure confusion on their face. Like, “what the fuck? You can be taller?”

“Yeah! Pretty neat right?” “..Im out of here…” husk says walking away as niffty goes up to you excited to talk to you about your height.

You ran over alastor’s foot once….you never speeded over 120 mph in your whole life seeing Alastor chase after you.

I imagine you going to normal height as you are just chilling with your small or long tail swinging and husk gets curious as he picks it up with his paw. “So…this ya tail right here?” You nodded reading the new paper. “So you’re a sinner demon?” “I ain’t nothin'” you said with a smirk as you disappeared in ink.

No one knows what exactly what you are. You don’t have the basic looks to look like a sinner or a hell born. So it’s kinda confusing to other.

You’re obviously a human who died to the ink as you use to animate bendy…so you’re bendy?? Does that make since because whatever you died by is your demon form….hopefully that made sense..

You once went full ink demon mode because a sinner tried to attack at you and husk while just running errands for the hotel. You transformed getting taller with the ink covering your face as you growl and slashes at them with a giant gloved hand covered in ink. And after that husk respected you more.

“Bendy/reader, can you help me make a cute star design?” Vaggie asked as Charlie was trying to make a star gazing banner. You nodded with your cartoony smile and pulls out a marker and started to draw on the air. The star in the air becomes to life as vaggie’s eyes widen.

“Uhm…oh wow. Thanks?” Vaggie says as she walks away with question marks visible while you just smile.

Y’know those dubbed comics where bendy has an accent? I feel like that’s cannon because you and Angel would be babbling about which part of city you guys were from.

I can see sir Pentious and you doing crafts as you made him an ink cartoon flower as he made you a bracelet bead with your name on it.

Lucifer will definitely play violin as you tap dance. Just a wholesome ass moment fr 💗🦆

You one time had fat nuggets in your doom buggy as you guys had shades just chilling around the hotel like bad asses✨

You miss your original family when you were alive and working. But everytime you open your eyes, you are greeted by the sweet comfort of your new family in the hazbin hotel.

You one time made an ink sculpture of your family and you tried to hold your smile but it faltered as you cry at how you missed your family as the ink sculpture melted due to your emotions.

Alastor appeared in your room seeing you sad little state as he comforted you. He had taken a liking to you ever since you joined the crew.

I can see you being childish because of your shortness so you use it to your advantage. YOU AND ALASTOR MAKE YOUR INK DEMONS FIGHT LIKE POKÉMON 😭😭

lol imagine bendy!reader making a whole like of fake ass tarrot cards to fuck with people as you have that smirk on your face.

“You’re gonna get run over toots…watch your back..” “what. The. Fuck-”

They got ran over by a mysterious person and a car….who knew who it was…it was you, you little bastard.

When the hotel has a talent and show day or night, you remembered how you animated bendy to do ballet and tap dancing. So with your information, that’s what you did. Yeah some sinners laughed..but some aplaude as they found it cute and so did your friends

You making ink blob bracelets for your friends as you can make them solid is a goal for real.

Headcannon on how you would try to make ink sculptures, but failing as you huff in anger and smash it with a full ink demon hand as the rest of your body is fine.

Headcannon of you just accidentally leaving ink footprints as you took off your shoes once 😭 niffty doesn’t complain as she likes to clean tho

I can see Lucifer picking your small body up happy for you to be so small as he has started in his eyes. And you are like annoyed at how the cast picks you up like a baby.

LMAO THAT WALMART MEME STOPPP😭😭 LUCIFER PUTS YOU UP TO THE DAMN WALMART CAMERA HAVING ALASTOR ALSO PICK LUCI UP 😭😭

I imagine you and Alastor having either a “bad ass son x calm father” troupe or a “non-biological sibling” troupe as you two get quite along

Your little ass doom buggy is such a weapon when needing to take a troubled guest in the hotel….YOU RAN THEM OVER?! 😨 ALL PEOPLE SEE IS A SMALL ASS INK DEMON HAVING A GUEST SCREAMING AS THEY GET RUNNED OVER TO THE DOOR-

So when the angels came for the battle, you were sure damn ready as you suffocated them in ink and control them into killing their own.

After seeing your full demon form, you definitely had been seen in a different light. They don’t see you as the cute baby bendy they seen you before.

Nah nah. They see you as a grown ass person as you are not in the baby bendy phase but more like the fanart type shit looks. With your charm, you definitely bring in some customers.

HOPED YOU GUYS LIKED THIS AS THIS IS ALL I COULD COME UP WITH 🦆💗 MWAH

2K notes · View notes

frankenkyle19 · 1 year ago

Text

-The No Longer Virgin-

Kinktober Day 5: Virgin!Peter Maximoff x reader

word count: 4.3k

warnings/description: loss of virginity, handjobs, blowjobs, premature ejaculation, 69’ing, oral male and fem receiving, whiny Peter, slight sub!Peter, awkward Peter, cute consent, probably ooc Peter, sorry.

posting two days early because I finished it and why not?

Peter totally wasn’t insecure about anything ever. Him? Pfft, no. He was the most confident, not insecure person who ever lived. So what if he was a virgin? So what if he hadn’t actually ever gone all the way? Or gotten a blowjob.. or a handjob… or even any over the clothes touching…

That was besides the point! It didn’t matter- not like he actually cared. It wasn’t for his lack of trying. He was always down to clown it just… He hadn’t found the right person. Apparently being a mutant speedster wasn’t a turn on for most people. Who would have thought?

Oh well. He’d lived his life this long without it, who’s going to say he couldn’t live the rest of his life being perfectly content with his hand or his stupid fleshlight? He’d live it’s not like-

But oh when he saw you for the first time he lost his damn mind. Why were you so pretty? Why did you talk to him? Show him any sort of attention? Peter wasn’t used to it, and it immediately made his brain short circuit. He wasn’t the brightest in the bunch, but he knew you had to at least like him a little to want to hang around him.

But why? Peter still couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that you actually wanted to hang out with him. Was it some form of pity? Did you feel bad for him? God he hoped not…

You two became fast friends, but Peter couldn’t help but want more. Not in a creepy way, just like a hey I’m in my 20’s and still a virgin and now that a girl is showing me attention my body is reacting like a teenage boy going through puberty-

God he needed to get a grip on himself. Get it together Peter! Keep it in your pants for Christ's sake.

And of course what he didn’t know was that you loved teasing the hell out of him. Seeing his cheeks heat up and the way he stumbled over his words. It was priceless.

The first night you kissed Peter, he was positive he’d died and went to heaven, or was in some super realistic dream. There was just no way this was real. Why would you want to kiss him? Him of all people.

But boy did he kiss back. His lips molded against yours perfectly as you draped your arms over his neck, humming against his soft lips, eyes closed as you attempted to deepen it.

Peter was loving it. He was convinced he could stay like this forever. Well that was until you attempted to climb into his lap and he freaked out and zoomed off in a blur of silver.

He finally had someone who wanted to mess around with him and now he was too shy? What was wrong with him!

It’s not that he didn’t want to- he was just incredibly nervous. Like heart beating out of his chest, stomach churning nervous. What if he did something wrong? As far as he knew you didn’t know he was a virgin, but if he kept up this act you’d find out in no time. How embarrassing…

But still, every time you tried to initiate anything other than kissing, Peter either made an excuse or just straight up ran off. It was embarrassing but he couldn’t bring himself to tell you why he acted the way he did. What would you say? What would you think?

Even once you two officially started dating, he was super shy and jumpy. He didn’t even really like to sleep in the same bed with you. Cuddling? He was fine with, but there was something so intimate about sleeping in a bed with your partner that he just wasn’t ready for.

He never really thought he had problems showing or giving affection, but the longer he was with you the more he realized he was terrified of all of it.

You were so patient with him, which made him feel even worse. He saw how desperate you were to be with him but poor Peter couldn’t bring himself to actually do it.

He wanted to. He jerked off every night to the thought of you, of your pretty face and how you looked at him during your makeup sessions. It had him cumming in surely a world record speed.

Peter researched why he felt this way. Why couldn't he just be with you the way he wanted. Like dude, the image of the two of you naked and sweaty, rocking against each other? It really got him going, but the reality of it seemed too much for his poor brain to be able to process.

He came to the conclusion that he was scared of intimacy. Or maybe he was just nervous to have his first time. Some odd combination of the both. He had to get over it, right? He couldn’t stay a virgin for the rest of his life. Especially when he had a smoking hot girlfriend right in front of him.

He had to find a way to get over it… He was determined now.

Finally, you two had been dating steadily for three months now. Three whole months with no under the clothes touching. Or over the clothes touching either if we’re being honest.

You had kind of clued in now that Peter was nervous about being with you in such an intimate way. You never pushed him. When he was ready, if he ever was, he would let you know.

So that’s why you were a bit surprised when during one of your frequent makeout sessions, when Peter began to harden in his sweatpants, he didn’t pull away. You noticed how his breath sped up, but instead of running off, he stayed put.

Your hands fell to his thighs gently, testing the waters as Peter pulled away from your lips to catch his breath. He whined quietly, barely able to be heard as his hips subtly arched into the feeling of your warm hands.

Before you went any further though, no matter how much he seemed to want it, you decided to ask him how he was feeling in the moment.

“Peter? Hey, if you want to I’d love to, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to. If you aren’t ready, that's okay too.” You said quietly, reaching up to cup his cheek.

His skin was warm and red under your touch as he nuzzled the side of his face into your palm, sighing softly as he closed his eyes.

“I uh- I do. I’m ready, I want to.” He said quietly, not meeting your eyes.

“I’m sure by now you’ve realized I’m a virgin.” He mumbled, blushing impossibly darker as he huffed quietly, his chest rising and falling under his t-shirt.

“Peter, that’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s okay.” You hummed, pulling your boy closer in an attempt to give him some sort of comfort. You could see how he was fighting himself in his mind, wrestling between the choice to do this, or to run away. Again. He was tired of running away.

“I just- I don’t want to do a bad job- I really want to make you feel good. And I’ve watched porn and shit like that but it- it’s not the same and I really don’t have any clue what to do.” He whispered, the saddest most desperate look on his poor face.

“We can go slow and I can help you. Anytime you have a question you ask, okay? I will never ever judge you. And if you want to stop, that’s okay too. It’ll be okay, I promise.”

Your words were exactly what he’d needed to hear these past few months when he was too afraid to even talk to you about any of this. He was finally ready. You’d need to walk him through it but he was ready.

“Okay, I want to. Please- need it.” He whined softly, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck as he weakly bucked his hips forward in search of friction of any kind.

Slowly but surely you let your hand fall to his crotch, rubbing over the bulge in his pants gently, trying to coax out more of those beautiful noises from his throat.

Peter tensed for a half a second before he shuddered, leaning further into you as he whined.

“F-fuck-“ he choked out, bucking his hips up, causing your hand to slide farther against his covered length.

“Feels good-“ he mumbled weakly, body tingling with pleasure as he tried to keep himself composed to the best of his ability.

“More please-“ He grunted, already so worked up and you found it so adorable. He was in for the time of his life.

You pawed at his length with a bit more pressure and you saw the way that his hands clenched at his sides. He wanted to touch you, but was nervous to make a move.

You moved your hand from his crotch and took both his hands in your own before placing them on your breasts.

Peter’s eyes widened to a near impossible size and you were worried they might actually pop out of his head at this point.

Damn. You had bomb titties. Like ooh mama they were amazing.

He swallowed hard, trying to get rid of his excess saliva before he started drooling or something-

He squeezed your breasts in each of his hands, reveling in the warm, squishiness of them. He could stay like this for the rest of his life. He was sure of it.

You let him explore your body for as long as he wanted, touching every part of you he could reach in a curious exploration of something he’d so badly wanted to do for so many years.

This was it… He was going to lose his virginity tonight. And he couldn’t wait.

Your hand came down to gently massage his length once more before finding the elastic of his sweatpants, dipping your fingers under it so slowly.

Peter was too enamored with your breasts to realize what you were doing at first. He panicked a bit when he finally realized, worried that maybe he wasn’t big enough- did his dick look weird? When was the last time he actually inspected himself? So many worrying thoughts flooded through your mind but the second your hand crept under his pants and past the waistband of his boxers to finally touch his cock without any restrictions?… He was on cloud nine.

He’d never felt something like this. Sure he had his own hand to compare it to, but yours was so soft, so warm and so so much better than his own.

It took everything in him not to nut the second you touched him. It really did. He was so desperate. His cock twitched in your touch as you did your best to stroke him inside his boxers, thumbing over the tip to collect the pre-cum there. You couldn’t see it, but he felt like he had a nice cock. A big, bulbous tip, a nice, decently long shaft, and thick veins that ran across it.

Your mouth watered a bit at the thought of tasting him, and you were just about to. But much to Peter’s embarrassment, a few more strokes had him cumming hard over your hand, making a mess of his boxers.

He froze, body tensing as he bit down on your shoulder to muffle the noises that fell from his mouth. Holy shit… How embarrassing. You barely touched him and he came.

You gasped softly in surprise, not expecting it so quickly, but his name was quicksilver after all. Maybe for more reasons than one? Speaking of quicksilver, he was hard again almost instantly. Thank whatever gods there were that he recovered as quickly as he did. So at least he was ready for round two in the blink of an eye. His cock twitched with interest once more as you removed your hand from his pants, looking at the white creamy fluid that covered your fingers.

“What do you want to do now?” You asked him, watching the adorable fucked out expression on his face. He sat up a bit taller and cleared his throat, recovering from his sudden orgasm.

“I uh- I’ve always wanted to uh- sixty-nine? But I haven’t Uh- you’d have to tell me what to do to make you feel good. Like I obviously know about the clit- pshhh, duh, but like I want to make sure I’m doing it right.” He mumbled, shifting uncomfortably as the cum covered the front of his boxers.

You slowly peeled your shirt off your body, Peter gawking at you the whole time.

You gestured to his clothes and in a second, with a soft ‘fwip’ he was naked in front of you. Well damn…

He blushed softly, looking at you for any signs of disappointment, which you certainly didn’t show.

His cock was just as hot as you expected it to be. It curved slightly to the left, and was… Well, probably the prettiest cock you’d ever had the pleasure of viewing.

It wasn’t too thick, but was long, and god you couldn’t wait to feel it inside of you. Patience.. That would come later.

“Pretty.” You whispered, which sent shivers up Peter’s spine. Pretty? What? You- Jesus he could barely think.

You unclasped your bra and in a split second he was on you again, his large palms cupping your breasts as he kneaded them gently.

He looked at you curiously before he let his lips ghost over your hard nipples before taking one of them into his mouth, sucking gently.

His mouth felt delicious against your breasts and you arched your chest into the feeling, hands gently grabbing his silver hair.

He spent several minutes exploring your breasts before he pawed at your jeans, trying to urge you to take them off.

You did just as he wanted, unbuttoning and sliding them down your legs, leaving you in just your little panties.

And lord, Peter almost came again. The sight of you nearly completely naked made his cock ache. He needed something. Now.

He grabbed for you, getting you into a lying position as you kicked off your underwear, letting it fall somewhere as he manhandled you into the perfect position. You were facing his length as he faced your core, both of you in a lying position. Peter nearly drooled at the proximity to your dripping cunt, wanting nothing more than to lean forward and taste.

“Go ahead baby.” You said gently as you took his cock in hand once more, stroking it firmly as you spit onto the tip.

Peter almost forgot all about tasting you the second your hand was in contact with his cock, but luckily he hadn’t.

He scooted forward a bit, letting his tongue press against your core, barely breaching your folds. He swallowed hard, your slick covering his tongue in an intoxicating flavor that he could find himself easily getting addicted to.

He parted your folds with his tongue, delving inside as if he’d done this hundreds of times before. His nose brushed against your clit as he licked and sucked to his heart's content, mouthing at your core with a desperation you’d never experienced.

You pressed your lips to the tip of his throbbing cock and his breath stuttered against you, lips wobbling.

His eyes were closed and his hands rested on your thighs as he tried to get his tongue as deep inside you as humanly possible.

He was losing his ever loving mind. The mixture of you on his tongue and the way you licked so gently against the tip of his cock had him seeing stars.

He pulled away for a moment to breathe and watch as you kitten licked his cock.

He whimpered softly, bucking his hips against your lips, causing his cockhead to slide across your cheek, smearing his pre-cum against your skin.

“S-sorry-“ he mumbled, biting down on his bottom lip as you finally took his tip into your mouth, suckling on it like it was some kind of damned popsicle. The vacuum your mouth created against him had him crying out, thighs quivering as he teared up from the pleasure.

Your tongue gently traced the slit in his head and it had Peter crying out in sensitivity, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell you to stop or even be gentle, because he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the slight pain it brought along with the overwhelming pleasure.

“Fuck fuck fuck- ooooh god baby oh sHit-“ he decided to shut himself up by burying his face back in your pussy, eating you out like his life depended on it.

You had to say, for his first time, he wasn't bad. Not at all. In fact he was actually decent. He found your clit nearly instantly and suckled it into his mouth, being as gentle as could be while still pleasuring you.

You bobbed your head over his length, coating him in your saliva as he weakly bucked his hips forward, causing you to gag slightly.

Peter still couldn’t believe this was happening, part of him thinking this was some wet dream that his mind had dreamt up to torture him with.

But nope. It was real. So real. Too real if you asked him.

And soon enough he was close for the second time that night, body shaking with pleasure as you suckled on his cock. Dear lord, he couldn’t take it anymore, it was too much.

“Y-you gotta stop- I’m gonna- oooooh I’m gonna bust baby-“ he begged, hips desperately flexing as he shuddered.

You just continued your assault on his poor cock, milking him for everything he had, and he came once again, costing your mouth in his salty release.

He threw his head back and gasped, unable to catch his breath for several seconds. He thought he was going to die, but by some sort of luck, he survived. He was alive and well. So much better than well in fact.

He shivered as you popped off of his length, wiping your mouth as you swallowed his release and god damn, that was so hot to him.

He sat up shakily, breathing heavily as he blinked slowly, bliss overcoming him as he tried to calm himself down.

Twice. You’d brought him to release twice already and he still wanted more.

There was just one last thing to do, and Peter was a little nervous, but ready.

He wanted to fuck you.

He sat up, glancing around your room curiously. The last thing he wanted was for the two of you to have to stop because you didn’t have protection. As much as Peter knew he could probably pull out before he came, he in no way wanted to risk it. Not a chance.

“You don’t got a Uh- a condom do ya?” He asked, chuckling softly as he fidgeted with his hands.

“You think I don’t? I’ve been waiting months for this Peter-“ you said, reaching over into your bedside drawer and pulling out a little foil packet, tossing it to Peter. He tore it open and carefully slid it on his length. It felt weird, tight but not bad. Just a new feeling, just like everything else that he’d experienced today.

You laid back on the bed, your breasts bouncing so perfectly as Peter stared for a bit too long, losing his train of thought as he so often did.

You cleared your throat, snapping Peter out of his trance like state staring at your bomb as hell titties. Okay maybe he shouldn’t say it like that- your magnificent breasts. Was that better? No.. no it definitely was not.

The way you laid on your back, wiggling your hips upwards made Peter lightheaded and he found himself crawling towards you without a thought, pulling you into a kiss, his cock nudging at your entrance. His body was shaking a bit and he wasn’t sure if it was from excitement or nervousness. Maybe both? Yeah.. yeah probably both. Because holy shit, he was really about to do this? After today he’d no longer be a lame twenty something year old virgin! Yay! That had to call for a celebration of sorts.

He took his cock in hand, giving it a few firm strokes before placing it back at your entrance, giving a gentle push as you cunt sucked him in. Your wetness mixed with his saliva made the best lube as he slid right in with very little resistance.

A heavy gasp fell from your lips as with his first thrust inside, you felt as if the air had been knocked right from your lungs. He was hitting your cervix with ease, a bit of pain coming from just how far inside he was.

You gripped onto his shoulders as he began to thrust back and forth slowly, the feeling quite literally too much. You were so warm, so fucking tight and the way his cock slid in and out of you was a real sight to behold.

He gripped the sheets by your head to steady himself. The last thing he wanted was to collapse and crush you or something embarrassing like that. That’d almost definitely ruin the mood.

Except you were sure he could do just about anything right now and it wouldn’t ruin the moment. He was so far inside you you swore you could feel him in your stomach. Your legs trembled as you wrapped them around Peters waist, pulling him closer as you cried out with each of his perfect thrusts.

Your moans were music to his ears and he swore he could record it and listen to it on repeat every second of the day. You shouldn’t even be allowed to make noises like that, considering the effect it had on poor Peter.

“Fuuuuuuck you’re so warm- my god-“ He groaned out as he thrust into you, his pace getting progressively faster and a bit rougher. You were definitely going to be sore later, but it would all be worth it.

You smiled softly and scratched at his shoulders gently with your nails, dragging a moan from his throat as his hips stuttered.

He’d find a pace and then stutter every few thrusts, humping into you with the desperation of an animal in heat.

He couldn’t believe he’d been missing out on this all these years. Sure people had told him sex felt good but this was more than just good. This was heaven.

“Mmm, so good for me Peter, r-rub. Rub my clit-“ you whined out, pressure building in your core with each thrust, his groin bumped against you, tingles of pleasure spiking through you.

Peter did exactly as you asked, one of his hands coming down to rub against your clit when suddenly he had the most devilish idea.

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth in concentration as he began to buzz the pads of his fingers across your clit as he grinned, knowing the effect it would have on you.

You yelped in surprise, eyes flying open as you looked down to see what he was doing. Oh. You hadn’t even thought of that as a possibility but it was so good.

“Peter- baby I-I’m close-“ you managed to choke out, arching your back to meet each of his thrusts, your poor abused pussy clenching around him in desperation.

“I’m close too- fuck cum for me baby- cum for Quickie-“ He let out a breathless laugh as his thrusts lost their rhythm even more, his thighs shaking as he felt himself just about to tip over the edge.

You weren’t sure if the two of you came at the same time, but it had to have been pretty damn close because the second you saw stars behind your eyelids, you felt warmth inside you as Peter released into the condom.

Once the two of you rode out your releases and caught your breath a bit, he pulled out of you, pulling the condom off his sensitive length and tossing it into the small trash can at the edge of the bed.

He collapsed against the bed, chest heaving hard as he turned over to look at you. He was a wreck, sweaty silver hair covering his forehead and poking him in the eye as he blinked. His whole body was hot to the touch, glistening with the smallest sheen of sweat.

“That was fucking amazing. Holy shit balls.” He panted, looking at the ceiling as he attempted to process what had just happened. He was no longer a virgin! Woohoo! Now no one could continue to make fun of him for it!

“Shit balls?” You questioned, shaking your head as you laughed, smoothing Peter’s hair back out of his face before pressing a kiss to his nose, grinning.

He snuggled close to you despite being sweaty and gross, closing his eyes as he breathed heavily, exhausted. It was another new feeling to him. He wasn’t usually tired and rarely ever slept, so for the first time in a while, he felt like he needed a nap. And a Twinkie, but a nap first.

“That was so good baby- thank you- I gotta sleep, feel like I’m gonna pass out.” He said groggily, pressing kisses to your skin in an almost delirious way as he fought to stay awake.

“I’ll be here when you wake up, Peter. Sleep.” You cooed and he cuddled closer to you, wrapping you up in his arms. You felt so safe, and Peter just felt at peace.

His new title was ‘the no longer virgin!’ And he intended to wear it proudly.

#evan peters #evan peters icons #peter maximoff #evan peters x reader #evan peters fanfic #evan peters smut #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff smut #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff fanfiction #quicksilver smut #xmen quicksilver #quicksilver

1K notes · View notes

imbored1201 · 9 months ago

Text

Leah’s Problem

Word Count: 1.6k

Pairing: Leah Williamson x Reader

A/N: Happy Birthday @alotofpockets

Leah’s jealousy towards everyone was understandable; it was obvious to everyone that you tried your best to avoid her. It also didn’t help the fact that everyone on the team seemed to like you, which made Leah more desperate to get to know you.

You were Katie’s best friend; no one knew how the two of you met in the first place, but they did know wherever Katie went, you followed.

For this reason, it was pretty hard for Katie to have to drag you to meet everyone one by one, considering you got nervous in large groups. But for some reason, you never got to Leah; she had waited patiently, watched as you talked and laughed with everyone else, but refused to acknowledge her.

———

Today was another day of you running away from Leah. Leah always made sure to wave at you when you stepped into the locker room; sometimes she did get a tiny one back. Today was one of those days where she got no wave back.

“Tough one again,” Beth joked. She loved watching those interactions; it was entertaining to watch you treat Leah like she was a ghost. Of course, she also knew the true reason behind it, but she didn’t get herself involved like Katie had.

“Maybe try pairing up with her,” Viv suggested, feeling bad for her friend. “I always try; she always runs to Katie." "Well, Katie has been choosing Caitlin lately, and everyone could tell Kyra is too much for her.”

As everyone split into pairs, Leah watched as you stood there awkwardly, Katie had been pairing up with Caitlin lately, and you were forced to go with Kyra, who was way too energetic for you. Before Kyra could steal you away, Leah took this chance to finally talk to you.

“Hey-“ Before Leah could finish her sentence, you quickly rushed over to Katie, pretending you didn’t hear her. “Okay then,” she muttered, sadly making her way to Kim.

“What’s up with her?” Kim asked, not sure what she just watched. “She doesn’t like me,” Leah mumbled sadly as she watched you rush over to Katie. “What did you do to the poor girl?”

Leah looked offended at that question. “Nothing. She’s always been like that around me,” Leah sighed, watching as you joked around with Katie and Caitlin.

She didn’t know what to do anymore. “Just talk to her." “I’ve tried; she runs off before I could even finish my sentence.” Kim sighed. As much as she didn't want to get involved, she knew she had to now.

————

When Kim approached you about team bonding night, you felt like you were about to faint right on the spot. Usually team bonding nights meant games, and most of the time the teams were chosen randomly. The chances of you and Leah getting partnered up were pretty slim, but with your luck, you weren’t going to risk that.

Kim could tell you were lying when you told her you already had plans. She saw how tense you got when she asked if you were going to be able to attend, and Katie always said you had no friends outside of the team.

———

Leah was sad but relieved to hear you weren’t coming to bonding night. As much as she wanted to talk to you, she would not be able to handle the awkwardness.

“Where’s Y/N?” Katie asked; she had just arrived and was already eating all the desert Viv had made.

“She said she couldn’t make it,” Kim answered, letting Katie read the text. Katie scoffed, storming back to the door.

“Where are you going?” Kyra asked as everyone watched Katie. “I’m going to get her. I'm sick of her running away from her problems.”

“What problems?” Leah watched Katie think for a bit. “Ay Kim, did you order food?” Kim nodded, and Katie looked at Leah.

“Let’s go, Williamson." Leah thought about it for a bit. You practically hated her, it would be quite awkward, “I don’t think I should." "Go,” Kim said sternly, knowing what Katie was trying to do.

———

“Why did I have to come? Everyone knows the girl doesn’t like me." Katie grinned, “That girl likes you, that’s the problem for her, though.”

Leah went silent after that, occasionally yelling at Katie for her terrible driving. Her heart started pounding when Katie parked and got out of the car to get you.

“Let me deal with this girl; I’ll shout if I need backup." Katie hurried inside the building, cursing as she realized she didn’t have the spare key you gave her.

That's what you woke up to. Someone banging on your door. “L/N, I swear, if you don’t get up, I’m going to break this door open.” You let out a frustrated sigh hearing Katie’s voice. You tiredly made your way to the door, hoping you would be able to talk Katie into letting you stay home.

“What do you want, McCabe?” Katie grinned seeing your tired state. “Tonight is team bonding you idiot; why aren’t you dressed?”

“I told Kim I can’t make it." Katie scoffed, shoving past you and heading straight to your bedroom. “Bed undone, kitchen a mess, even this closet is a mess and not color coded anymore,” you watched as she went through your clothes.

“Change, and hurry; Leah is waiting. We still need to pick up the food.” Your eyes widened hearing the name. “Leah? Williamson?” “Yes, hurry and get ready.” You threw yourself on the bed. First, she almost broke your door, then she insulted how your place looked, and now she brought the person you couldn’t even look at without panicking.

"Hey,” you whispered to them when you got in. Leah nodded at you, silently hoping Katie would speed past all the stop signs, but of course, this ride was the only time Katie decided to drive under the speed limit instead of over.

————

“You're a terrible driver,” you told her, rushing to the front door and just letting yourself in with the food in your hands. The girls cheered when they saw you, Caitlin and Steph, tackling you into a hug, almost making you drop the food.

“We already made our teams; Katie your with Vic; Leah and Y/N are together.” You gave Beth a pleading look, “Nope, no running from her anymore,” she whispered into your ear, pushing you towards your partner. Leah could see the fear in your eyes.

“Hold on, Williamson,” Katie announced, dragging you to Kim’s bedroom. "Katie, switch with me,” you practically begged her. “No, remember what we talked about?” “I choose not to remember it”

“You really like her, right?” You slowly nodded. Yes, you liked Leah, but the fear of being humiliated overtook that. “Then actually tell her, if she doesn’t like you, there’s lots of girls out there for you.”

“Katie. I don’t want to make anything awkward.” Katie put an arm around your shoulder and led you back to the team. “Nothing will be awkward; at least you had the guts to admit your feelings,” she shrugged. You took a seat beside Leah, trying to calm yourself.

“Um, I can ask someone to switch if you want.” Leah silently hoped you rejected that offer; this was probably the only time she would be able to actually talk to you without you running off to Kate.

“It’s okay, we can be partners.” You slowly started to gain confidence talking to her more. It was something about her presence that kept you calm now. You were starting to wonder why you were terrified of Leah in the first place.

————

Everyone watched as you and Leah actually conversed for once. It got to the point where the game didn’t even matter anymore; you guys were purposely losing to keep talking without any interruption in Kim’s kitchen.

By the end of the night, you were sad, knowing you couldn't hang out with Leah anymore. You would have to go back and deal with Katie’s endless teasing the whole car ride.

“Can I take you home?” Katie shoved you into Leah. “Finally off my plate,” she mumbled, “Well, I kind of don’t have a choice; my driver doesn’t want me anymore." Leah smiled and put an arm around your shoulder.

“Katie, I’m taking her home." Katie just hummed and let out a tiny bye. You rolled your eyes at your friend and followed Leah out the house.

————

The whole car ride was filled with laughter and Leah asking a bunch of questions to get to know you better. You and Leah even went to get some late night food and ate it in her car.

"Thanks, Leah.” Leah felt proud of herself, she had never seen you smile that much around Katie, so that was a big accomplishment to her.

“Let me walk you,” she quickly got out of the car, following you inside the building. “I’m sorry,” you spoke as you got to your front door.

“About what?” “Ignoring you, I was just nervous.” Leah panicked a bit. “Did I make you uncomfortable?” You quickly denied that.

“I like you, Leah; a little bit too much though." Leah let out an ‘oh’. “It’s okay if you don’t-“

“I do,” she cut you off. “I do. I like you a lot.” You stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say now.

“Date?” She spoke again, "Date." Leah mentally cheered, “Okay, tomorrow, movie night? I know a friend that could get us reservations at a fancy restaurant.”

“I think a movie night is perfect.'' Leah nodded. “Okay, I’ll pick you up. Wear something comfy.”

She gave you a tight hug, blushing when you kissed her cheek.

As she made her way back outside, she couldn’t believe it. Just one night changed everything between the two of you, and now the last thing to do was get Katie to tell her your favorite movies and snacks.

#woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader

651 notes · View notes

gatorlovebot · 1 year ago

Text

nsfw. mdni. this is self indulgent but its my right as a 20 something who is getting ready to move out on their own for the first time to write about landlord john price ok <3

landlord price who buys a nice looking duplex in the city and fixes it up himself. lives in the top floor because he doesn’t need much space to himself and rents out the bottom unit. so far it had mostly been couples or smaller familes renting out the bottom unit, until you came along.

you, who had been saving money to rent something nice for yourself, something with a little extra space. the two bedroom downstairs unit is perfect for you, but you have pretty mixed feelings about your landlord living right above you. until you actually meet him.

upon moving in your greeted by the warm accent of john price. his eyes crinkle when he smiles at you and you can pick out grey hairs in his full beard. it’s so cliche, feeling butterflies for an older man whose kind to you but what are you supposed to do when he offers to help you bring in boxes, muscly arms on full display?

he allows you time and space to get settled in, with a promise of, “i’m just upstairs if you ever need anything.”

you don’t see him for the next few days until there’s a knock at your door and its him, looking soft and sweet in a grey henley, just in time for the colder fall weather. “would you care to join me for dinner? i tried a new soup recipe and seems like a i have enough to feed a small army.”

and that’s how you end up in his space for the first time. it’s tiday yet lived in. furniture dark and worn. you can tell a man lives here. dinner is nice, soup rich and filling. but john makes it so much better. effortlessly making you laugh with his bad jokes and stories. he’s warm and personable. your little crush grows when he walks you back downstairs to your unit when the sun goes down. you find yourself struggling to go inside to your empty apartment.

some days you see him and some days you don’t. your work schedule is consistent but you can’t get a read on his schedule, coming and going unpredicatably. life of a retiree, you think.

sometimes you catch him when you’ve come home from work. usually you’re thrilled to see him, an immediate smile stretching across your face and a blush on your cheeks as soon as you see his smile and hear his voice.

sometimes you curse his presence. like now, when you can’t even wait until you get inside your place before the tears start to fall. and of course john has to be in the front yard racking up leaves. you try to give a polite hello and walk up the steps inside, but john price can already read you like a book.

he’s pulling you into his chest before you even know it, big, solid arms wrapped around your shoulders holding you snug to him. “what’s got you so upset, huh?”

and you let the tears fall in earnest, feeling safe and secure with john. “work…just fucking sucks.”

“oh you poor thing,” he coos before gathering you up in his arms and leading you up to his place. he brews some tea as you sink into his couch, the leather warm and soft underneath you. once the teas done, he settles next to you and let’s you warble on about how unsupportive your work environment is and how your boss never follows through on his promises. he mostly just lets you talk, letting out an occasional hum in affirmation. that night he’s not very talkative, he’s much more tactile. running his hands up and down your arms, rubbing the tension from your shoulders and back as he allows you to lean on him until you’re practically in his lap. you’ve exhausted yourself crying and he thanks you for being so vulnerable with him and tells you that even though you don’t deserve all the bullshit at your job, you’re such a brave girl for fighting through it.

things continue to get more and more comfortable between you two. you would almost go as far as to say you would consider him a friend. you do still sometimes have awkward moments though. like when you go down to the basement to change your laundry from the washer to the dryer and you find him already placing your garments in. “oh sorry,” he says, flustered, a tinge of pink dusting his cheeks at being caught. “i spilt some paint on myself earlier while touching up the trim outside and really needed to get some stuff in the washer. i was going to message you asking if all this stuff could go in the dryer.”

he’s so thoughtful, you think. “yeah, it can all go in. thanks, john!”

hours later when you’re finally putting away your clean laundry you realize some of your panties are missing. oh well, its an older dryer, must have eaten them.

its months layer when your stomach drops as you read a text from john asking if you could come upstairs later tonight, there was something he needed to talk to you about. you feel a flash of panic, his text sounding serious. did you do something wrong? you had just seen him the previous day and everything between you seemed fine. you thought you were a great renter, but now you weren’t so sure.

you make your way up to his place and he greets you at the door, usual soft smile on his face.

“i just wanted to get something out in the open,” he starts as you both take a seat on the couch. “i’ve noticed an odor coming from downstairs late at night.”

for a moment you have no idea what he could be talking about, an odor, you think and then it hits you. your late night smoke sessions. “oh, yeah.” it dawns on you. “i’m so sorry about that.”

“no, no, it’s fine.” he reassures, “i would be a bit of a hypocrite myself to be honest, i smoke cigars constantly. try to keep it to just the back balcony but sometimes i break my own rules.”

“yeah, i don’t do it in the apartment because that would be rude, but,” you wince, “sometimes i get a little too lazy to go outside so i just do it out my bedroom window.”

“ah, no worries, dear. just wanted to let you know that i know.”

with your panic subsiding you feel a little bold, “would you like to smoke a little, john?”

“if you’re offering, i’ll be on the balcony.”

you would have never imagined sharing a joint with john would lead you here. in his lap, legs splayed open with your pants around your ankles. listening to the wet sounds of your pussy as he dips his big fingers inside you, hitting all the right spots. your brain is floaty and your limbs feel weightless against his big body that surrounds yours.

there’s a constant stream of nonsense and whimpers that leaves your lips as you dumbly watch him pet your swollen clit. but its the filth from his mouth that really gets you. “such a pretty little thing fo’ me, huh?”

“this little cunt ‘s all mine, right?”

“i’ve been thinking about touching you like this since the day you moved in.”

“cum on my fingers, sweet girl, i know you want to.”

and you do, clenching around his fingers as you keen and moan through it. there’s a whispered, “good girl,” deep and gravelly in your ear before you’re being lifted into john’s arms as he carries you back inside, to his bedroom.

#captain john price x reader #captain john price #john price x reader #john price smut #john price imagine #captain john price smut #cod smut #cod imagine #gator.writing #like i said SELF INDULGENTTTT #also super messy bc i just needed to get these thoughts out of my head

2K notes · View notes

letruyuread · 5 months ago

Text

Little thoughts about about Twisted Wonderland characters and you (yuu)

Riddle loves having the first slice of tarts, strawberry ones especially. So I think that, for holidays or even if you're just feeling down, he gives you the first slice of his strawberry tart. No explanation, please don't mention it- you'll fluster the poor boy. But it means a lot to him, and he secretly hopes you understand that.

Yes, Ace is a teasing prick, most of the time, anyways. But the second anyone brings up how he might possibly feel for you? Absolute tsundere. Denying it to the high heavens. Insults you a lot, too. "How could I ever like the perfect?! They're so- so-" Yeah, no one's falling for it. Give him time. He'll get comfortable with the idea soon enough, and then you have a whole other problem.

Deuce loves to talk to his mom about you. Rants about you- the incredible magic-less human that stole his heart (No, get out of here Ace-). You don't even care that he used to be a delinquent! How amazing is that? His mom is overjoyed that her son met someone who sounds so nice and keeps trying to give him advice to ask you out. She also tries to convince him to bring you home during break- you're not even dating yet.

Cater, of course, posts about you on his Magicam. It's the usual- oh, they're so pretty today, look my partner gave me food 😍. But there are also things he doesn't post, surprisingly. He doesn't post the picture he took of you, laughing against the sunset. That one's private. Too perfectly you to be seen by everyone. No, that's just a moment for the two of you, he thinks.

Trey loves baking you things, baking with you, but he always finds himself flustered when you bake something for him. He taught you the recipe, he remembers, a few weeks ago, and here you are standing with a small platter of cookies. Some are burnt, some taste a bit salty (you didn't add the oyster sauce... right?) and yet he eats them all and loves them because you made them. For him.

Leona, I think, takes very good care of his hair. It was worse before he came to Night Raven, his attendants tried to take care of it, but he always managed to hide away (he was taking a nap). On the first day, though, Vil couldn't stand such a pretty face with such horrid care and taught Leona a routine. Leona now follows that routine strictly. He takes pride in it, as much as his smarts and strength. You know he's having a bad day when it's unkempt and tangled. You also know how much he trusts you when he teaches you the routine, when he lets you help him with it on those bad days or weeks or maybe months.

Ruggie gives you things. It's always random- a bit of his food, a dandelion in the field, a ribbon floating in the wind. He grew up with little- so naturally, he hoards everything he can get his hands on and keeps it for himself. One day he might need it, or his grandma, or the kids in his neighborhood. He's very protective of his growing stash. So when he gives you these things, it's him telling you that you're part of his family now. Ask for anything, he'll find it. Just like he would for the people back home.

Jack adopts a lot of cacti (I nearly spelled cactuses) with you- very silly, right? A lot of cacti. He waters them appropriately, a strict schedule for each, and keeps them at Ramshackle dorm. You have a whole room for them, very bright from large windows and only tables for the plants to be placed on. It's common in his family that you only have one person, your whole life, to stick by. He's hoping it's you- he's hoping you'll fall for him if he keeps coming around, day by day, taking care of your plant children (plant army).

(oh God there's so many but Im on a roll)

Azul, Azul... Oh boy. He really wants you to make a contact with him. Doesn't matter what kind- you want it, you'll get it (even if you don't agree to his offer, honestly). He always seems to want the same thing, though: (no it's not marriage) a friend. That's what he says, that's not really what's in the contract, though. The exact wording is 'companion.' Someone to talk to, someone to trust. Someone who calls his merform pretty and him intelligent. Someone who doesn't make him feel insecure.

Floyd. What do to with you? He's very touchy. Very touchy. Once, he skipped all his classes and just grabbed onto you, having you carry him around on your back and not letting you go. Yes, he put a spell on himself to make him light as a feather, no one could carry that tall of an eel. He's very clingy and doesn't understand how he feels about you. It confuses him, he has no clue what this is, he just knows he wants to be around you and why shouldn't he be?

Jade knows. You have weekly tea parties. Don't worry, everything's free of charge... Except that, you have to pay for that. Oh, you didn't bring any money? Well, a kiss would do, but... Oh, no, that was a joke. Please don't look so worried. Jade may know what he feels for you, but he's still working out how to deal with it. The twins kind of never thought this would happen.

Kalim is such a sweetheart! Give him all the love in the world, he'll reciprocate tenfold! Whatever you want. He can buy it, if not, his family has the connections to get it, surely. But don't be mistaken- he'll adore you if you make something for him. If he can, he'll always have it on him. Plus, he tries to make stuff for you too! It might look bad, or taste weird, but he's beaming at you and the thought is there!

Please give Jamil a day off. No, really- drag him as far away from Kalim and any responsibility as possible. Do everything. Cook for him, cuddle him, tell him he's amazing and smart and very very cool and it is HIS DAY OFF. Take care of him, please? He needs this. He needs you. He'll do the same for you, if you ever overwork yourself or have a bad day. Trust him, and ask him to trust you.

(I haven't gotten beyond book 4, so I don't know enough about the other characters to feel confident writing them. Maybe Idia, Malleus or Lilia, as I really like them and have done some research on them, but for now this is what I got. Enjoy?)

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #riddle x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #ace x reader #deuce x reader #Trying to get everyone hold on #trey x reader #cater x reader #ruggie bucci x reader #jack howl x reader #azul x reader #floyd x reader #jade x reader #kalim x reader #jamil x reader #God there's so many #I think I did it

325 notes · View notes

chimcess · 9 months ago

Text

Waterlog || pjm (1)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, Age Gap!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 17.4k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: discussions of significant death (does not happen in story), talks of a bad car accident, talks of drunk driving (please drinking responsibly), more than likely wrong swimming terms and poor understanding of how the Olympics actually works (I did so much research, pls be nice to me lol), strong language, lots of mental health discussions, reader has mommy and daddy issues, Older reader, Jimin is a complete sweetie, the tamest chapter of them all A/N: Well, well, well, look who came back. I first wrote Waterlog back in 2021, and while I enjoy the premise, I hate the finished product. I wanted to go back and edit/fix what I originally had, but when I tried it became so different, I was better off rewriting the entire thing. I hope you guys like this mini-series. If you would like to read the original go to my blog archive. Thank you for reading!

masterlist || next || playlist

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

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

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

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

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

With an annoyed sigh, he nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s great to hear,” He smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She thought for a second before replying.

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

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

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

“Drive safe. See you in a bit.”

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

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

“Love you,” She sing-songed playfully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hiding behind humor was a pastime.

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s young, ain’t he?”

I nodded, “23, I think.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dani beamed, “Daddy said the same thing.”

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

“Your dad’s a smart guy,” I joked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s starting,” Hoseok announced.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I shrugged, “Ledecky is a great swimmer.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. Night, Chika.”

“Night, Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Crystal!” They all replied in unison.

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

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

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

“Butterfly,” Jordan replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Always cutting to the chase,” He joked.

I did not laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is my team.”

“And this is Jimin Park.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?” A soft voice called out.

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

“Yeah, can you see me?”

I shook my head, “Just your icon.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you see me?” He asked.

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

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

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

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

“No worries. I’m not in any rush.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Could’ve fooled me,” I teased.

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

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

“Talk to you later, Park.”

“See you, coach.”

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

Jimin: 👶

I did not respond until I had my flight booked.

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

He replied a few minutes later.

Jimin: Do you need a lot of space?

Me: Not really

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

I smiled. He really was a sweetheart.

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

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

Jimin: I was raised to respect the elderly.

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

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

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

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

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

First work then play, I told myself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Andy snorted, “He means well.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I pulled a face, “Audrey?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She smiled sadly, “I think you can.”

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

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sounds like we have company!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” I quickly followed behind him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hope the concert was nice.”

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

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

“Hey,” I replied lamely. “Eloise?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How old are they?” I asked.

“Almost 4.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t look very impressed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your hip might give out, granny.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I put your stuff in your room.”

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now I felt like an asshole.

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

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

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

That made him laugh, “What? Why?”

I shrugged, giggling with him.

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

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

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

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I nodded, “See you.”

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

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

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

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

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

"Likewise," I replied.

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

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

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

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

479 notes · View notes

feirceangel · 11 months ago

Text

Imagine | Harassed (Shanks)

Imagine doing some shopping when a strange man won’t leave you alone.

Warnings: some violence, reader is harassed and threatened, reader is a badass

Word Count: 1143

(Not my gif)

You couldn’t remember the last time you stayed on an island this long. It must’ve been years ago, long before you met him.

Traveling had always been a desire of yours. To traverse the world, discovering different cultures and landscapes, that was your dream.

And you’ve been living it gratefully for years.

Of course, it’s always nice to spend more than a few days ashore once you have the opportunity.

Your Captain has business on this tropic island, and you’ve been enjoying the leisure time that this gives you.

Right now, you’re shopping at the local markets, admiring the bright jewelry and clothing that the various vendors offer.

A raucous laugh sounds off behind you. You ignore it, minding your own business, even as you hear a loud whistle.

“Hey, pretty lady,” a man’s voice says.

You continue ignoring it, instead reading the price of a beautiful red jewel.

This apparently aggravates the man trying to get your attention. He grabs your shoulder roughly, expecting it to be easy to turn you towards him.

You remain in place, stronger than the man anticipated.

After he removes his hand, you turn to him with a frown, “May I help you?”

He’s a tall man in a nice suit, not too shabby looking. Too bad his personality is rotten. Behind him are five more men in similar fashion. You take clear note of the weapons strapped to their sides.

“I was talking to you,” he growls. “I don’t like being ignored.”

“I don’t like being hassled,” you retort, crossing your arms.

“I was just saying how gorgeous you are,” he explains with a slimy grin.

You turn on your heel, “Thanks.”

“Hey!” He shouts, getting closer to you so that you can feel his breath. “Don’t you know who I am?”

“Do you know who I am?” You ask pointedly.

“You’re a pretty piece of ass that needs to be taught a lesson,” he scowls, stepping back. “And we’ll gladly be your teachers.”

Disgust washes over you.

“Are you trying to hit on me? Because you’re doing a poor job of it. And you’re wasting your breath- I’m already taken.”

“I could take you better than he ever could,” he tries to argue.

Your laughter is impossible to hold back, “You’re delusional, you aren’t even near his level. You should stop talking now.”

A smirk forms on your lips as you watch the man shake with anger. His eyes are alight with rage at being shot down and humiliated in front of his friends.

Meanwhile, you’ve mentally checked out, comparing the red of the jewel to your man’s hair. He loves seeing you in his colour.

A loud click goes off near your ear, the kiss of cold metal on your temple a warning not to move.

“You’re gonna regret speaking to me like that.”

You step back from the market stall, shooting an apologetic look towards the owner. The poor girl looks terrified.

One of the man’s lackeys has pulled his gun on you, standing much too close for comfort.

Unimpressed, you shake your head, “How immature.”

“I’m going to-“

He stops as a malevolent aura suddenly appears, causing sweat to form on his brow.

“What exactly are you going to do?” A deceptively calm voice speaks out, followed by footsteps as a red-haired man approaches.

The man in front of you has gone paler than a corpse, shaking just like the man holding the gun against your head.

“Red-Haired Shanks,” a man near you whispers in terror.

They seem to be grasping the situation now. Although, you could have handled the situation just fine on your own.

You smile at your man, who raises a quizzical brow.

“These guys bothering you?”

Before you can reply, the hassler interrupts, “Please, sir we had no idea-“

A gunshot rings out and the gun pressed against your head suddenly falls as the man collapses in a display of bright red blood.

Infuriated, you kick out, knocking the guy to the floor next to his dead buddy.

“Shut up. You should have respected me regardless of who I associate with,” you deliver a harsh kick to his side before pressing your foot on top of his chest.

“Scum like you are less than worms to me,” you grit out, adding more pressure until you hear a sickening crack of a broken rib and the man cries out in pain. “You never know when to quit.”

You reach out a hand towards Shanks and he hands you his sword without hesitation. None of this dimwit’s posse do anything to try and help their leader.

They know it’s a battle they could never win.

With a graceful flick of your wrist, the man below you is impaled through the heart. A clear message to anyone watching.

You fix your gaze on the remaining losers, “Don’t harass people, okay?”

They nod profusely, muttering nonstop apologies as they retreat quickly.

You crouch down to wipe the blood off of Shank’s sword, handing it back with a smirk.

“Darling,” he sheathes his weapon, moving closer to you and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “That was stunning.”

“Shanks, I was handling it just fine before you showed up,” you say, passing a glance over his shoulder to offer a smile to Benn Beckman. “But thanks for the assist anyways.”

“I know, but you know how I get seeing someone get so close to you,” Shanks says, looping his arm around your shoulders. “Especially when they threaten what’s mine.”

You grin, pressing your lips against his and nipping at him playfully.

“Why didn’t you deal with them sooner?” He inquires once you break away.

“Maybe I wanted to play the part of the damsel for once,” you tease. “Seeing you all protective and possessive gets me riled up.”

“Vixen,” he laughs, “You knew I was watching.”

“I always know, Shanks,” you wink at him. “Just like I know you’ll buy this for me.”

You show him the jewel that perfectly matches the shade of his hair.

He laughs, handing the money over to the shopkeeper, “I could never deny you, Y/n.”

He embraces you again and you lean into his warmth, inhaling the familiar scent of sake and sea breeze.

“I think I’ll have it made into a ring, that way everyone will know you’re mine.”

The grin that breaks onto your face is enough to brighten his whole lifetime.

He hugs you closer and presses a chaste kiss to your head.

He’d never let anyone else touch his treasure, he’d destroy anyone if they tried.

But he also knows you can fend for yourself, one of the many qualities that he adores about you.

You take his hand, leading him down the market, “Now you’re stuck shopping with me~”

He can’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be.

#female reader #imagine #reader insert #x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #shanks x reader #shanks #akagami no shanks #red haired shanks #one piece imagine #one piece shanks #op #op x reader #red haired shanks x reader

989 notes · View notes

lovelyjj · 1 year ago

Note

"I want only you." with jj maybank from the prompt list ??

Jealousy

jj maybank x reader

wc: 1.2k

JJ was going from girl to girl. He was having one-night stands. He was hooking up with every touron in sight. Truth be told JJ was trying to fill a void. He loved you and he was sure you didn’t love him back. He felt like he wasn’t good enough for you.

It was another party at some kooks house, how you and your friends, the pouges, got invited was a mystery. You were having fun dancing and drinking the usual partying scene.

You were getting yourself another drink when you saw him. You saw JJ talking to a girl that you didn’t know. You felt a pain in your chest at the sight. You didn’t know what was being said but you could bet 100 dollars that he was flirting with her.

The drink you got was a mai tai. It entered your system and made you a little buzzed. The idea of having to watch JJ flirt was nauseating. Therefore, you decided to wander upstairs.

You passed by a couple who was making out on the top of the stairs. You wandered down the hallway and tried a few doors but they were all locked. Eventually, finding nothing entertaining you decided to head back downstairs. As you turned around you were met with a hard chest.

“Oh I’m so sorry I didn’t see-“ you started.

“Rafe.”

“Hiya princess, what’s a pretty girl like you doing up here all alone,” Rafe smirked.

“Nothing I was just looking for the bathroom,” you spoke quietly choosing to lie instead of telling him you were just wandering around.

“Second door on the left,” Rafe pointed.

“Hey and maybe when your done we could get you another drink!” Rafe shouted as you walked towards the bathroom.

The bathroom was nice but you didn’t want to be in there long. You simply did your business and walked back out to the party. Rafe was leaning against the wall, waiting for you.

“There she is!” Rafe gestured towards you outstretching his hands.

“Yeah yeah yeah so where’s this drink you promised?”

“Come with me,” Rafe put his arm around your shoulder and led you downstairs.

When you reached the kitchen, Rafe pulled out two mai tais from the cooler. He handed you one and whispered in your ear, “drink up.”

You did as you were told and before you knew it you were on your fourth. You were standing around talking to Rafe about random things when you see JJ racing towards you and Rafe.

He got right up in your face and started yelling.

“What the hell do you think your doing?!”

“Drinking,” you slurred.

“With Rafe?” JJ accused.

“Yeah with Rafe, you were too busy eye fucking that poor girl,” you spat.

“Right so you keeping tabs on me now?” JJ questioned.

“No but you have no right to be jealous when all you do is hook up with other girls,” you shouted.

“Oh that’s rich. I’m not jealous, I’m just surprised your hanging out with this kook.”

“Why do you care?”

“Because I care. I care about you ok?! Is that so hard to believe? Rafe is bad news,” JJ yelled.

“You have a funny way of showing it,” you pointed your finger at him. You went to take a step towards him but you lost your balance and fell forward. JJ caught you thankfully.

The proximity of you and JJ got you flustered. The alcohol already was making you flushed you didn’t need to increase it. You could smell the alcohol on JJ’s breath, it was hitting your face.

“Thanks,” you acknowledged for catching you.

“No problem,” he breathed.

“If your little cat fight is over, I wasn’t done talking to y/n,” Rafe cut in.

“You know what Rafe, be my guest. Screw this I’m out of here. Hang out with whoever you want,” JJ stormed off leaving you drunk on his aroma. The few seconds that you were that close to him left you feeling dizzy.

“I’m glad that we’re finally alone,” Rafe expressed.

“Thanks for the drinks but I have to go,” you spoke quickly.

You wanted to find JJ and talk to him anything to continue to be around him but you had no luck. He was gone. You wondered if he found a girl to go home with. You hope not.

Kiara was the one who got you home safely because you were too drunk to do so yourself and you tried asking her about JJ but she knew nothing. When you finally made it to your room, you went to bed that night hoping JJ’s jealousy was real and that he wasn’t hooking up with a girl tonight.

——————

You woke up with a terrible hangover. You had a bad headache and you were feeling nauseous. You wanted to hide under the covers and never come out.

The day was bright and sunny, making you cringe from all the light. The headache you had didn’t help. You were sensitive from the light due to your hangover.

You want to check your phone and realized you had a text from JJ.

JJ: can we please talk?

Y/N: yeah I guess so.

JJ: come to the château.

The walk over to the château wasn’t that bad but your head was pounding. JJ was outside waiting for you.

“Hey you came!?” JJ stated.

“Yep.”

“Ok just listen and let me speak first,” JJ demanded.

You nodded your head.

“About the party, seeing you with Rafe made me really angry. I was super jealous and I know I have no right to be jealous but I was. I wanted to punch the living daylights out of him for even looking in your direction. You make me feel things I never thought I would feel. I think I’m better with you in my life, and I love you.” JJ finished.

You were shocked by his speech, you didn’t expect him to say that at all. You stood there thinking how to respond to that with JJ looking at you for an answer.

“How will I know that you’re loyal?” you asked.

“I want only you,” JJ replied.

“Do you mean that?”

“Yes, I mean every word. No girl could ever compare to you.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“So all those girls you were with mean nothing to you?” you raised a brow.

“I was only with those girls because I thought you would never love me back. I was being stupid and careless.” JJ explained.

“It really hurt me to see you with them.”

“So you were jealous?” JJ smirked.

“What No i- maybe,” you pondered.

JJ laughed and you were excited to see him so happy.

“Listen JJ I’ve always loved you,” you started.

JJ let out a sigh of relief, like he was holding his breath waiting for you to tell him that you love him.

“Good.”

“Can i kiss you i’m dying over here.” JJ pleaded.

“Yes.”

JJ grabbed your face and placed his lips on yours. The kiss was heated and frantic. You were relieved that he was kissing you. JJ was eager. Your lips were crushing together. JJ’s blood was rushing through his veins. JJ’s hands were cupping your cheek.

When the kiss was over both of your were smiling.

“Come back here,” JJ spoke.

You grinned into the second kiss. JJ moving one hand to your waist to pull your body closer to his. The other hand moved to your neck.

When it was over you were both breathing heavy.

“it’s just you and me against the world.” JJ acknowledged.

“Yep.”

571 notes · View notes

theemporium · 2 years ago

Note

3 with james potter pretty please <333

3. “Tell me to leave and I’ll never bother you again.”

James Potter fucked up.

He wasn’t exactly sure how he had fucked up, but he knew he fucked up monumentally when you came down for breakfast, slumped down a few seats away from him and totally blanked him.

He played it off as a rough morning at first. After all, you were never a morning person and you seemed pleased enough with him last night when you sat curled under a blanket with him as your friends laughed and joked around you into the early hours of the morning.

He was clearly just overreacting.

But then your shared potions class after lunch came around and you still weren’t talking to him. You weren’t talking to anyone.

“You must’ve done something to piss her off,” Sirius said to him, watching as his best friend slumped back against the grass as he glared above at the cloudless sky.

“No shit,” James grumbled.

“Have you tried talking to her?” Remus asked, propped on his elbows with the book he was previously reading abandoned to the side.

“Well…no,” James murmured, clearing his throat a little when Sirius snorted. “But she won’t even look at me!”

“And how will poor Prongs ever live on when his little girlfriend won’t even smile at him,” Sirius teased, reaching over to poke his cheek only for James to bat his hand away.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” the boy whined helplessly, though both boys sitting next to him knew well enough how much James wished that weren’t true. He just hadn’t quite gained the courage to ask you out yet—how truly Gryffindor of him.

“Just ask her, mate,” Remus suggested with a shrug. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

James established that there were at least three outcomes that could come from asking you, and each was just as bad as the last. One: you wouldn’t even acknowledge his question. Two: you would hex him and then go back to pretending he didn’t exist. Three: you would laugh at the fact he even cared to ask, hex him and then go back to pretending he didn’t exist.

Each left James completely unsatisfied with your sudden distance and a bitter taste in his mouth at the mere idea he may lose you. And despite all these outcomes racing through his head, James still found himself standing outside your dorm, muttering to himself before he bit the bullet and knocked.

It took thirty seconds for you to open the door and they had to be the longest thirty seconds of his life. However, when you did open the door, James barely gave you a chance to properly take in who was even standing across from you before he began rambling.

“Listen, I totally get that you might hate my guts right now and that maybe you wanna hex me but I just need to say this before I lose the chance because it would kill me if you didn’t know that I am so sorry for whatever I have done to make you try avoid me or whatever else it is—”

“James.”

“—but I really like you and this is totally not the time to say it, like at all even and I just—”

“James.”

“—I really wanted you to know that if there is any chance you could forgive me or even tell me what I did so I can rectify it—”

“JAMES!”

The boy stopped suddenly, his cheeks burning red as he took in your expression for the first time and held back his wince. “Tell me to leave and I’ll never bother you again. I promise.”

“What are you going on about?” you asked, still feeling bleary and fuzzy from the nap you were taking minutes ago, and not finding much help in the annoyingly bright torches in the corridor.

“I–” James cleared his throat. “You were angry with me today and I just wanna tell you I’m sorry for whatever I’ve done.”

Your brows furrowed together. “James, I’m not angry with you.”

He blinked. “You’re not?”

“No, I’m not,” you sighed.

“But…you ignored me all day,” he murmured, looking a bit like a kicked puppy with his pouted lips.

“I didn’t mean to,” you explained, feeling your face softening and your annoyance from him waking you up quickly melting away. “I just…I woke up with a migraine and it wasn’t getting any better no matter what I did. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, James.”

His lips parted with a soft ‘oh’.

“If it’s any consolation, I was ignoring everyone,” you offered with a weak smile.

“That’s good,” James nodded, eyes widening when he realised what he said and quickly scrambled to take back his word. “Not about the migraine! Not that at all! I just meant….fuck, love, I meant about you not being angry at me—”

“James,” you called softly, a hint of a smile on your lips.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” James asked helplessly.

“Cuddle with me?” you asked in a sweet voice that he could never say no to. “I was trying to take a nap but it would help if I had a wizard who’s always ridiculously hot laying beside me.”

James grinned. “You think I’m hot, love?”

“I take it back. I can nap myself.”

“No take-backs, sweetheart. Now budge over, I’m gonna cuddle the shit out of you.”

2K notes · View notes

m1ckeyb3rry · 5 months ago

Note

Hiya hiya! Once again congratulations on 500! I was wondering if I could request a fic with Isagi and handholding! Idk hand holding sounds very romantic so I would love to see how you’ll write it!

── PATHWAYS

Synopsis: You go on a walk with your boyfriend while he’s on a break from the intense training of Blue Lock.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Isagi x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 1.1k

Content Warnings: fluff, isagi is lowkey a simp, slight rin and nagi slander (i love them though i promise)

A/N: EEK i’m sorry this took me a sec anon!! i’ve never written for isagi before so this was def smth new which is why it took me a bit to get in the right headspace. i hope it’s okay for you <3

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

It was colder outside than you had expected. Isagi, who was wearing a coat and had a scarf wrapped around his neck, didn’t seem bothered by the temperature, but as for you, you were miserably trying to hide your shivers, pulling your sweater tighter around yourself to disguise it. He had told you that it was chilly, and you had ignored his warning, so it was now your burden to bear.

“I haven’t seen you in so long,” Isagi said, white clouds forming in the air from the heat of his breath. “I missed you a lot the entire time I was there.”

“I missed you, too,” you said. “I know we were able to talk a few times on your one friend’s phone, but it wasn’t the same.”

Isagi wrinkled his nose. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get my own back. I really tried my best. I wanted to talk to you as much as I could, to make up for our physical distance.”

“It’s okay. The fact that you were willing to take care of all of your teammate’s sweaty, gross laundry just to get the chance to call me for a couple of minutes means more to me than anything,” you said, bumping your shoulder against his as you walked along the side of the dirt path connecting your house to the nearest park.

“That was definitely a sacrifice,” he said, gagging from just the memory. “I’d do it again for you, but it was really horrible, Y/N. It’s bad enough dealing with my own clothes after matches, but adding Nagi’s to the mix…it was brutal, to say the least.”

“My poor boyfriend,” you said. “I’m so lucky to have someone who’s willing to endure so much for me. I must’ve been a really good person in my last life.”

“I’m the lucky one,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “To be honest, I was kind of scared you’d find someone else while I was gone. It would only make sense, right? How could a girl as beautiful as you not have a million other options? It would be pretty easy for you to forget about me and move on.”

“Would you forget about me and move on if the roles were reversed?” you said, your teeth chattering. Isagi’s eyebrows shot up, almost disappearing behind his dark hair.

“No way!” he said, shrugging off his coat and draping it around your shoulders. “I’d never, ever do that. I still can’t believe I’m dating you at all!”

“You’re so goofy,” you said. “Hey, don’t give me this. Won’t you get cold?”

“Nah, I’m tough. What kind of number-one striker gets defeated by some wind?” he said. You hummed appreciatively, zipping up the large jacket and rejoicing in the warmth it instantly provided you with.

“Number-one striker, and the hero of Blue Lock, I’m told,” you said. His cheeks turned pink.

“That, too,” he said.

“It’s all everyone at school talks about. One day, you just randomly disappeared, and no one but me knew where you had gone. Then suddenly, you were on TV, making the winning goal in one of the most exciting matches of soccer any of us had ever seen! I feel like the girlfriend of a celebrity,” you said.

“You should get used to it,” he said. “I’m only going to get better from here. I’ll be a World Cup winner next, and since you’re stuck with me, you’re going to have to deal with everything that that entails.”

“Stuck with you?” you said. He reached for your hand, squeezing it tightly, holding up your interlaced fingers so that he could admire them.

“Do you see your hand?” he said, very seriously.

“I see it,” you said.

“And you see mine?” he continued.

“Mhm,” you said. As always, his were warm, compared to the iciness of your extremities. He liked to joke that it meant the two of you were made for each other, only able to reach the perfect temperature when you were together.

“That’s us,” he said. “We’re going to be like that forever.”

“Goofy and cheesy? What a lethal combination,” you said, shaking your head.

His palm was callused and rough against yours, a proof of how hard he worked. He was always like that, you had noticed even upon first meeting him, always doing the best he could in any given situation, making up for any disadvantages with the sheer force of his will alone. It was nice to have that tangible reminder of who he was pressed against you, so you made no move to let go of his hand even after his little demonstration had concluded.

“I know,” he said. “And my jokes are really bad. But you like that about me, right?”

“I do,” you said. “Your jokes aren’t terrible, though. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“They make you laugh, so I guess they can’t be that bad,” he said. “Although everyone in Blue Lock hated them. One time, my friend Bachira threw a shoe at me for being unfunny, and Rin Itoshi called me a lukewarm NPC for trying to cheer him up with a pun.”

“If anyone is an NPC, it’s him, just for unironically calling someone that,” you said. “They just don’t understand you, Isagi. It’s okay; true art is never appreciated by the masses.”

“That’s right. As long as you’re happy, I don’t mind if they detest me,” he said. You pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you,” you said.

“Should we get sour gummies at the convenience store? It’s been forever since I had some,” he said, his entire face turning red. It was funny — he would declare his love to you in the most cliched of ways and entirely on a whim, but if you ever reciprocated, he would shut down entirely. Like he said, he really still couldn’t believe that you both were actually together, that in fact you had been together for months now, and so he often acted like a little kid with his first crush whenever he was around you.

“Sounds like a good idea. I’ve been craving some myself,” you said.

“Okay! Let’s go. I’ll race you!” he said, taking off at a run, though contrary to his challenging words, he pulled you along, careful to keep your hands connected as you giggled and stumbled after him.

You had missed him, so much more than you could ever verbalize. You had spent every day that he was gone thinking about him, his spontaneity, his wide smile and his kindness, the gentle way he always spoke to you, how easily taking care of you came to him.

Running towards the convenience store alongside him, you held onto his hand tightly, as much for balance as because you couldn’t imagine letting go.

#isagi x reader #isagi x y/n #isagi x you #isagi yoichi #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #reader insert #canon au #m1ckeyb3rry milestone #m1ckeyb3rry writes

176 notes · View notes

plussizefantasia · 6 months ago

Text

Don't Call Me Kitty

Bucky Barnes x Black Cat! Reader

Word Count: 2k

Chapter 1/6

Next>

Warnings: Reader is plus size and it's talked about being somewhat of a negative thing (its not) , language, I think that's it

AN: This is part one of the BlackCat!Reader x Bucky work that I've been working on for a while. It was a request although I can't seem to find the original request anymore. This is part one of six, all fully written but I decided to split it up because this is by far the longest thing I've ever written and I wanted to publish it in chunks. Let me know if you like it, or if the rest of this should just stay hidden in my drafts for all of eternity.

If you had to spend one more fucking minute in the same car as James Buchanan Barnes, one of you would be dying. And you are pretty fucking confident that it won't be you.

He won't get off your back. Every chance he has it seems like he launches himself at the opportunity to remind everyone that you weren’t always the goody two shoes he thinks you are pretending to be. But God forbid you call him out on the obvious hypocrisy he's spewing because then you’d have to face Rogers and the inevitable tirade he’d go off on about how his best friend was never a bad man, just deeply broken and how the actions he’d taken while under Hydra’s control were not his own.

You don’t take issue with Barnes bringing up your past, it's not a secret. Everyone on the team had at one point been the focus of your ire on one of your bad days and that more often than not led to some sort of discussion where you would disclose more and more about the things you were trying to forget. Your issue with Barnes was that he was trying to insinuate you were one of the good guys. And you’d rather die than admit you were an Avenger.

You are not, nor will you ever be a good guy. You aren’t necessarily a bad guy, but you are not a goody two shoes. Barnes knows that, he also knows that it pisses you off to no end when he tries to tell everyone that you're acting like one.

“Shoulda seen the way she was sucking up to Fury Stevie, she’s trying to be teacher’s pet I’m tellin’ ya.” You were not sucking up to Fury you were stealing his wallet and trying to distract him so he wouldn’t notice the fifty bucks you lifted, but Barnes didn’t need to know that.

The worst thing about this hate that you have for James Barnes was the fact that you know deep down you don’t hate him at all. Sure, he pushes your buttons and knows just what to say to get you to want to knock his pretty little teeth out. But he's also a genuinely good guy and most of the time isn't all that bad to be around. But god it's so much easier to hate him than it is to sift through all those feelings.

There was also the fact that the two of you work well together. You can be bickering one second and covering each other’s sixes flawlessly the next. You have a theory on that though, you think that because both of you had been forced to work with people you didn’t trust very much at one point or another you got used to getting the job done no matter what other feelings were floating around in the background. That's what you try to convince yourself is the case. The idea that you and Barnes simply make a good team is nauseating.

Barnes isn’t only good to have in the field though, he has proved his worth off the battlefield when he knocked around some poor recruit who had been running his mouth about you in the training gym. The kid couldn’t have been more than twenty and honesty you weren’t going to hold his ignorance against him. If he underestimated you because of your size, then that was on him and in a way, was only gonna help you in the long run.

That was something that you had noticed early on, that most people couldn’t fathom that someone who wasn't a size four could be as good at your job as you are. “Most People” also included people on your team, it had taken you saving Tony’s life in the field more than once for him to admit that he was wrong about you. You are still trying to convince Thor that just because you look soft does not mean you can’t still kick his ass.

You have made people’s lack of faith in you into a good thing. Rich guys aren’t worried about their wallets or watches when a meek little thing bumps into them on the subway and who would suspect the overweight chick to be the one who scales the sides of buildings to get her hands on some unreleased tech from Hammer’s R&D department? Bucky Barnes.

Bucky has never regarded you with the same kind of hesitance as the others. He has never once made it seem like he thought you couldn’t get the job done because you were bigger. And you had to admit, it's refreshing. Not that you need his approval but it's still nice to not be looked at with some kind of doubt, or incredulity. That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t piss you off though.

“I swear to God Barnes, if you change the radio station one more time I’m gonna cover your whole arm in fucking extra strength magnets while you're asleep.” An interesting threat sure, but one you will one hundred percent follow through on.

“The station keeps changing to static, kitty, you want to listen to static for the next three hours?” He asks. He's right, you are both on your way to some ball in Alabama and according to Tony, all the Quinjets are in use for this weekend (bullshit), which leaves you and Bucky to get there the old fashion way, a road trip.

You're already eight hours in and are currently driving through the small towns and mountains that cover a good section of the south. Which means that the radio is cutting in and out. And yeah he's right, you don’t want to listen to static but you also don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“I’d prefer the goddamn static over the song changing every five fucking seconds.”

“Well, it’s either that or silence, kitty.”

“First of all Barnes, I’ve told you not to call me kitty. It’s demeaning. Secondly, maybe some silence will do you good, you might be able to hear yourself think for once. If you’re capable of thinking.” You shoot back at him.

“Oh, kitty I have plenty of thoughts I’m pretty sure I think enough for the two of us.” He looks at you without turning his head away from the road, giving you a sidelong glance.

“Oh yeah, about what? How to get more beefy? Whatever the next idiotic insult you’ll hurl at our resident birdbrain will be? Whether or not you'll get wrinkles from the perpetual furrow in your brow?”

“I don’t think you want to know what goes on in my head, Mittens.” He pulls his bottom lip up in between his teeth to stop the smirk that is spreading across his face.

“You did not just call me fucking Mittens” Your jaw is practically on the floor. The audacity of this man.

“You said I couldn’t call you kitty. What are my other options?”

“Maybe my name? Asshole.” You also have to fight back a smile. Teasing Barnes is nice, it was the closest thing you have to a genuine relationship. Too bad you can’t stand him.

“You memorized your cover?” He asks you. You almost scoffed at him, you're not a goddamn amateur.

“Of, course. I’m Debrah Longborne, Georgian peach and heiress to my Daddy’s large fruit processing fortune.” This mission is a simple one. You're here to take down a corrupt governor and what better place to do than at the gala he and his wife organize every year? You had Tony donate to his wife’s foundation under your cover name. Large enough to draw attention but not too much attention that you can’t get your job done. “And you…?”

“Brantley Moore, Law professor at Vanderbilt, and your arm candy for the night.” You like going undercover, and this assignment is a short one, just one weekend. It's almost like being another person, just with all your skills and an ulterior motive.

“Who the hell picked the name Brantley?” You ask.

“I know right, I sound like some preppy douchebag”

“Not too far off then.”

“Fuck off.” He laughs. You like his laugh. His eyes crinkle in the corners when he does it, a brief glimpse into the years he has lived through, not all sunshine and rainbows, but enough joy to have laugh lines.

“So Debrah and Brantley met where?”

“Vanderbilt has society mixers every winter, where the professors and some select students get the chance to network with some donors and other important people. It’s a believable story plus there’s over a thousand attendees at these things which makes it easy to slip our names onto the list.”

“And whose idea was that?” you lift an eyebrow. “Mine.”

“How do you know about the Vanderbilt mixers?”

“I had a life before I met you, didn’t you know that.”

“I knew you had a life I guess I just didn’t assume it involved rubbing elbows with southern socialites at prestigious university parties.”

“I wasn’t rubbing elbows, it was for a deal made by Peirce with the university president, I was there as a bodyguard for Pierce and to cover our tracks when things inevitably got bloody.” Any hint of teasing falls from Bucky’s voice. He says shit like that sometimes. Shit that you think he says to scare you or to remind you how dangerous he was. All it does is make you sad. Nobody deserves to go through what he had, and you hate that those evil bastards had taken a great man and mangled him.

The conversation peters out after his revelation. The two of you ride in silence for the next two hours. Thirty minutes in, you get closer to the city and the radio sputters back to life. Bucky reaches to turn it off.

When you finally reach the hotel both of you are a bit on edge. You’ve been driving all day, switching back and forth every few hours but Bucky’s silence for the last little stretch seems to have affected both of you more than you’d thought.

Still, you have a job to do and you’ll be damned if you let the metal-armed nuisance ruin your reputation for perfect follow-throughs. You grab your small weekender bag out of the backseat and make your way to the front desk. You school your features and dust off the southern belle persona that has been stashed away in your metaphorical conman toolbelt.

You can feel Bucky trailing behind you, and an idea pops into your head. Swiftly turning on your heel you pass your bag into his unoccupied hand. Not giving him a chance to say no you rotate back around and march forward at a pace fitting to a very busy society woman.

Bucky sputters behind you and you toss over your shoulder, “If I’m playing an heiress this weekend, I'm not lifting a goddamn finger if I don’t have to.”

Marching the rest of the way to the desk you flash the young woman behind the counter a polite smile, “Room for Longborne”. She immediately matches your smile and begins typing away on her keyboard pulling up the reservation that was made for your cover.

“Of Course Ms. Longborne, I have you down for the Iris sweet for three nights is that correct?”

“Sounds correct to me, although if you could hold the room for one more day that would be just peachy of you, we don’t know how long our business here is going to take and it’s better to be safe than sorry. You understand of course.” You put every ounce of Southern charm into your words and pray to God that this interaction can be over sooner rather than later.

“Of course Ms., Here are your keys. Your room is on our twelfth floor and the number is embossed on the front of the card.” She hands you a package of three cards across the desk. “If you need anything at all don’t hesitate to call.”

You nod, taking the key cards from her hand, and motion for Bucky to follow you to the elevator.

The ride up to the twelfth floor is silent, much like the last stretch of the car ride. What you aren’t expecting is Bucky’s exclamation when he walks into the room before you.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” The first words Barnes has uttered in nearly two hours. “There's only one fucking bed.”

207 notes · View notes

hueseok · 1 month ago

Text

( 01. ) GOOD GRACES.

kim seokjin doesn’t believe in luck. he’s someone who knows that in order to have good things coming your way, you have to work damn hard for it. however, that might not be the case when it comes to bad luck, because after a video of him goes viral wherein it looks like he’s screaming at someone’s grandma, he begins thinking maybe luck does exist—and it just so happens that he’s now being subjected to a lot of unluckiness.

he’s being cancelled. his career is getting destroyed. his manager is forcing him to take a hiatus. and on top of that, as if things could not get worse, the only hope he has on redeeming everything he worked hard on depends on you, the director’s daughter of the theater show that could propel him back to where he used to be.

that should have been a piece of cake. if only you weren’t his ex who he dumped via phone call and got threatened by to never show his face to ever again...

pairing: seokjin x reader

word count: 4.2k

rating: NC-17

content: fluff, light angst, humor, exes to enemies to friends to lovers au | ft. theater actor!seokjin + himbo energy!seokjin lmao, podcaster!reader + nepo baby!reader

warning/s: lots of swearing | lots of internal monologue by seokjin? lmao

[ chapter index. ]

EPISODE 01. there are worse things i could do !

seokjin never thought that the downfall of his career would happen because of a misconstrued video of him going viral where he was apparently yelling at a poor old lady in a grocery store.

but here he is, getting canceled on twitter and being informed by his manager that he was taken off the projects he was scheduled to do for the upcoming year, the brands who were once so keen on getting him on board suddenly backtracking and terminating the previously signed deals that were already discussed.

regardless of how he tried convincing yikyung, the said manager, that he wasn’t actually fighting the woman who was probably the same age as his grandmother on that short clip—and that all of this was just a stupid a misunderstanding, he’s told it’s too late. the public already made up their mind; they all hated him, and there were several gossip blogs publishing articles that had ‘receipts’ of his apparent bad and diva behavior over the span of his career.

“look, namjoon and I are working on it,” yikyung says, explaining that the PR and legal team are already in the midst of taking care of the whole problem. “but for the meantime, the best you can do is lay low for a while, buddy.”

“what?” seokjin exclaims. “are you saying—”

“you’ll be going on a hiatus.”

“hiatus,” he repeats, enunciating every syllable like he heard it wrong. he feels like he’s going to vomit, the whole room he’s in right now spinning before his eyes.

“yes. hiatus.”

god, seokjin hates that word. he’s been working his ass off since he knew how to act and sing and was the absolute fucking best at it. and now they’re putting him on a hiatus? it’s ridiculous. it’s unfair! he isn’t in some kind of boyband or anything, but he’s pretty sure that they use that term to sugarcoat the fact that the members are quitting the industry or going solo which doesn’t make sense for him so the former category is probably more applicable to his situation at the moment and—

“it’s temporary,” yikyung continues speaking, as if reading what’s going in his mind. “at most, it’ll be a year.”

that still doesn’t calm seokjin down. “you’re benching me for a year?”

“at most.”

“does it really have to be that long?”

“yeah, if we see that it’s necessary enough.”

“i don’t think a year is necessary.”

“we don’t know that yet.”

“but if you keep me away from the public that long… it's going to kill my career!”

yikyung gives him a pitiful look. “it's already dead, jin. let’s be real here.”

he gasps, genuinely offended that his manager would say such a thing. “take that back.”

“look, i’m not happy with this either,” yikyung says, “but the public needs to forget that video. It’s what everybody is talking about, it’s what every director or sponsor that’s asking us about too—nobody would want to associate themselves with your name anyway while the story’s fresh, so this hiatus won’t kill it. doing this hiatus will just induce your career into a coma. you’ll be like sleeping beauty.”

“then who’ll be the fucking prince?”

“a mindblowing project that’ll remind people that you’re the best leading man in the theater world.”

seokjin lets that sink in.

just days ago, he was being blasted with offers to do commercials and new productions due to the successful run of chicago where he portrayed billy flynn. A lot of columns praised his versatility, saying that despite reservations on how he was going to perform, he nailed the part and captured the audience’s hearts with how he made that character his own. it was the biggest ego boost he had in a while considering he was so passionate in bringing billy flynn to life and pulling off the long note he had in we both reached for the gun—now though? all the happiness that he felt before? all the acclaim he reckoned could last him a good few months to stay motivated in doing this? it’s being buried to the ground; he feels as if everything is crashing down and every good thing in his life is fading away.

guess it’s true that being too happy can cause too much sadness after.

“a year goes by so fast, you know,” yikyung tells him. “keep yourself busy. pursue other hobbies. the next time i’ll call you, i’ll make sure it’s about an offer that’ll jolt your career awake again.”

and so with no other choice, really… that’s what seokjin did.

he decides to follow yikyung’s advice and take a train back to his hometown with the plan to help his aunt run the small grocery business she had, residing there until circumstances appear better for him. he figures this break might be better than he thinks, taking into account the fact that he’s been working nonstop since he began landing solid roles years ago. maybe a restart is what he needs; maybe he can use this as an excuse to do other stuff and pursue other hobbies like he was suggested to do.

in the first month of his forced hiatus, he becomes some kind of apprentice at his aunt’s mentioned grocery store. he meets taehyung, a young man who looks way too handsome to be only arranging packed and canned goods in the aisles of the shop as another helper of his aunt; taehyung also apparently recognizes him, asking if he’s that “theater star harassing an old lady” he kept on seeing on tiktok which seokjin’s always quick to correct. taehyung never looks convinced though, regardless of how much seokjin explains, but he at least doesn’t treat him shit for some groundless scandal.

then in his second month, he begins to try pottery. there are classes for it in the same town, a 10-minute drive away and the instructor happens to be a family friend. however, after five sessions, he realizes that he’s horrible at the task and can’t produce anything that’s worth selling or admiring even. that doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy it though, ‘cause he does, and he still attends each class or goes on his own for the following months to use this activity as catharsis.

for the third month, he starts painting; on the fourth, he volunteers to walk the golden retriever that an elderly couple neighbor has; when the fifth month comes, he begins jogging around the area, continuing that until the sixth and seventh as he progresses to running—and then on the eight month, while he’s tending to the crops he’s growing at his aunt’s backyard, he finally gets the call from yikyung that he always pretends not to care about.

hurriedly taking off his gloves that are covered with mud, he picks up his phone from the table and answers his agent’s call. “please tell me you have something,” is what he says, not even concealing the desperation in his voice.

“i have something,” yikyung confirms, sounding excited.

“holy fuck,” he whispers to himself. he’s pacing around now, thrilled and anxious, praying to the gods of every religion that this will be a good offer. “what is it? tell me quickly.”

“they’re doing grease,” he says and seokjin does an impromptu super mario impression, just jumping all over the place because of the mention of the famous musical, the kind of musical that he knows would definitely benefit him if he wants to be within everybody’s radar again. “they already have a sandy young—it’s the producer’s niece—so now all they’re looking for is the rest of the cast. I already got you an audition for danny zuko and it’s two weeks from now.”

“god, i fucking love you, yikyung.”

“i’m amazing, aren’t I?”

“the best. you’re a goddamn gift from above.”

“and it hasn’t even been a year,” yikyung proudly points out. “you’ll be absolutely back on your feet after this project. your scandal has died down, anyway. not a lot are talking about it, and some of your fans are getting better at defending you, sharing encounter stories of their own to support the claim that you aren’t a dick who has a fetish in getting into a bickering war with an old woman.”

seokjin rolls his eyes. “never describe it that way to me again.”

yikyung chuckles. “i’ll hire a cleaning lady to clean your apartment here in the city maybe this weekend. when do you think you’ll arrive?”

“some time after the weekend. i’ll have to take care of a few things before i go.”

“like what?”

“well, believe it or not, i actually made some friends here.”

“damn. i told you this hiatus was going to be good for you.”

“yeah, you are right about that. i think it was healing for some reason. aside from the first weeks of me being depressed as fuck.”

“so, what does that mean? does this mean that you think you’ll nail the audition?”

seokjin grins. he isn’t cocky for nothing. even though it was advised to him before to lower it down a bit so that he wouldn’t come across as a complete ass, he knows he’s great at this pursuit of his. he’s charming, he has an amazing voice, and he can pull off any choreography instructed to him regardless of his initial lack of dancing abilities. being a hard worker makes you that way, and it’s what seokjin thinks will always help him in every endeavor he runs after.

“you bet, i will.”

“how’s your voice? your joints? do you need to warm up?”

“i’ve been singing for the community here every tuesday and thursday. i also haven’t been physically inactive like you think i am. i’ve been exercising regularly, improving my stamina and all that shit.”

yikyung doesn’t answer for a few seconds, a silence that seokjin translates into his manager being impressed that he hasn’t let go of himself despite the circumstances.

after a few more clarifications and reminders, the call ends and seokjin flops down on the wooden chair close to him, this goofy and giddy smile erupting on his face. it doesn’t occur to him until this moment that he’s been wishing for a miracle like this to come along because he’s been missing performing on stage like he used to do during shows and even when he’s in dance studios for the rehearsals. yeah, having a reason to take a break was nice too as he expressed, but nothing beats doing what he loves to do.

and playing danny zuko? wow, talk about a huge upgrade from being mandated by his management to disappear from the public to potentially being cast as one of john travolta’s famous roles. of course, the challenge with this is that he has to make sure that he actually gets the role, which he’s optimistic that he’ll be fine with.

his reputation may be questionable once he comes back, but there’s no denying that if there’s anyone who can emanate an arrogant greaser who cares too much about his image—it’s him.

****

seokjin’s aunt was devastated when she discovered that he’s leaving. she tried to persuade him to stay longer (if not for her, for the plants and the grocery store—and maybe the crowd of people he would sing for whenever there was an occasion in the neighborhood). however, regardless of her insistence, seokjin cannot be budged; he’s been waiting far too long for this to have second thoughts about it, to be swayed from this provincial life he has come to love and genuinely enjoy.

“are you coming back?” taehyung asked him when the news of seokjin’s immediate departure got to him too. “because if you aren’t, can I have your bike?”

seokjin rolled his eyes. over the course of his stay, taehyung has become some sort of little brother he never had. “i’m coming back. just to visit though,” he said. “so you can have my bike.”

on the weekend before he left, he spent time with the people he befriended. he arranged a bingo session with the elderly; he ran laps with that golden retriever he took on walks every morning; he did his last piece of pottery with the instructor he also became friends with; then, on his very last night, he shared a few drinks with his aunt and taehyung, promising them that if he gets the part, they’ll have front row tickets to the show.

if not, he’ll jump off the bridge because he doesn’t think he has a face to show to anyone anymore.

he earned a slap on the arm by his aunt with that one.

everything went smoothly when he came back to his old apartment the following morning, freshly cleaned like yikyung promised. nonetheless, seokjin felt it was necessary to check every nook and cranny of the place to verify that, even going as far as examining the decorations, memorabilia, and picture frames he had on display, his finger being swiped on the most random areas to make sure that every corner was polished. nobody lived here for eight months in his defense, and he really could catch a bad case of allergic rhinitis in the case yikyung was lying. he couldn’t have that. he had his voice to take care of; there shouldn’t be snot or phlegm getting in the way of the full prowess of his vocals.

for the next few days leading up to the audition, he did everything he can to assure that he’ll be in his best state when his time to shine comes. he practiced the song sandy, a solo piece sung by danny zuko, and rehearsed the lines for the scene where danny and sandy first meet again at rydell high.

in those hours he spent talking to himself, warming up his voice, making sure that he shaped his words right and exuded the energy of the greaser he’s aiming to play, he started thinking again that he seriously got a huge chance in landing this role. he’s superb at acting; he’s certain that he has the voice needed for this part; and not to mention that he’s got the looks for it, alright. his handsomeness is certainly one of the aspects that makes him so marketable as an actor.

plus, he manages to get a positive outlook regarding this because yikyung has been great in encouraging him, sending him inspirational quotes that sometimes were borderline annoying because it had nothing to do with his situation but still touching in a way.

like right now, as seokjin waits in the holding room of the theater for the audition, he receives a message from his manager with a GIF of a maneki-neko with an oversized arm and the quote by dr. seuss saying, “you have brains in your head. you have feet in your shoes. you can steer yourself any direction you choose. you're on your own. and you know what you know. and you are the guy who'll decide where to go”.

it is a little aligned to what he’s going through right now but seokjin can’t help but still grimace in distaste.

“kim seokjin?” the casting assistant calls, and he snaps his head up from the screen of his phone to peer at the person who called him.

he stands, gaining the attention of the casting assistant. “here.”

“great. follow me please.” she smiles and begins walking to where the stage is without checking whether seokjin followed her or not.

he does, as quickly as possible, thankful because he can finally get away from that enclosed space with fellow auditionees who were either gaping at him or chatting him up, asking about the hiatus he did. he’s smart enough not to give any specific details, instead saying the standard “mental health break” or “sabbatical leave” that they seemed to buy.

walking across the stage, his eyes squint a bit at the spotlight directed to him. then, stopping at the center, he averts his gaze to the two people who are sitting on the front row seats. hyunbin park the director and seungjoon ahn the producer. they both appear serious, like they’re bored, or like they’ve been unimpressed by the roster of auditionees they’ve been having so far.

it creates a spark of hope for seokjin who’s confident that he might just be the person that’ll blow their minds for today. even though this is his first time performing in front of a professional again, he’s learned over the years to trust his skills more, and he knows that he’s definitely adept for the tryout happening at the moment.

“kim seokjin, isn’t it?” mr. Park says. he’s the more intimidating one out of the pair. he’s famous for having directed a lot of shows that got to win several trophies in every award giving body that catered to the theater industry. aside from this production being an anticipated project of his, he’s scheduled to direct a movie with a star-studded cast.

seokjin nods. “yes, that’s me.”

“wait a minute, i know you,” says mr. ahn, an index finger pointed towards him. this man doesn’t look that much older than seokjin. give or take about only five years his senior. “i’ve seen you somewhere. where have i seen you?”

seokjin swallows hard. fuck, fuck, fuck. kill me now. bury me in the ground. shit. i hope he doesn’t realize that i'm—

“ah! i remember.” mr. ahn laughs, turning to mr. park. “isn’t he the guy who played corny collins three years ago or something?”

a huge breath of relief escapes seokjin.

mr. park nods unsurely. “yeah, I think so. did you play corny collins, son?” he asks.

“i did.”

their faces significantly brightened.

“well, i’m looking forward to your audition, seokjin,” mr. ahn says. “i watched the media preview of hairspray back then. i was a great friend of jiyong.”

jiyong was the director of the said show.

“you may begin,” mr. park adds, gesturing for him to go ahead before readjusting the glasses he’s wearing. “break a leg.”

seokjin flashes a dazzling smile and begins.

****

yikyung: how was it? yikyung: the audition should be over by now. yikyung: tell me how you did! yikyung: i’ll be like this for the whole day until you reply. yikyung:

seokjin: do you think sending gifs is cool? seokjin: bc it’s not

yikyung: you didn’t answer my question?

seokjin can’t stop grinning. he’s had this grin since he finished the audition and walked out to the lobby, his mind replaying the events that took place during his performance and the reactions of the director and producer after he was done.

even though the two didn’t make their verdict apparent, seokjin had a feeling that he was going to get cast in this show for the reason that as soon as he finished belting the last line of the song sandy, mr. park and mr. ahn shared a look with one another, their eyebrows raising in what comes across like understanding.

now, quick disclaimer, seokjin doesn’t read minds, but he’s pretty sure that that’s a good sign. he’s done his fair share of auditions and seeing an interaction like that from people who are in charge of casting always raises the chances that he’ll end up in the project. it’s a really big tell from what he thinks—and it’s what’s prompting him to almost skip like a little girl while walking to the café nearby where he’s planning to treat himself with the mouthwatering strawberry cream croissant he saw on their display earlier, nothing in his mind other than fantasies of receiving a call as soon as he gets home confirming he got the part.

maybe i should start incorporating black leather jackets into my wardrobe more… it is what danny zuko wears half of the time in the film and since i’ll be danny zuko, it can be some kind of way i’ll be able to internalize the character and be fucking amazing in this…

clearly, doing an inner monologue isn’t advisable when you’re walking along a busy street filled with people who are obviously in a rush to get to where they’re going.

because as he continues marching forward, taking a quick turn to the café he’s aiming to go to, his thoughts everywhere aside from the path he’s strolling on—his arm bumps against someone’s shoulder, ceasing his daydreaming and causing him to glance back, about to utter a quick apology if it wasn’t for the sight that greets him when he does.

he wrinkles his forehead, gazing at you.

there’s no doubt in his mind that it really is you who he’s looking at, but due to the fact that it’s been approximately 9 years since you last saw each other, seokjin asks himself whether this is legit or is his imagination taking a sinister route and letting him imagine how it would be like to meet the person he doesn’t want to see on a perfect day.

“well, shit,” you say, staring at him with the same surprised yet puzzled expression. your features look more mature, your hair is styled in a different way, your choice of clothes is more sophisticated—yet despite the subtle changes, you’re still as attractive as you were when he last got to see you. he might even dare to think that your attractiveness leveled up as well. “i’ll be damned. it’s you.”

seokjin feels his throat closing up, reality sinking in that you’re really here in front of him. “____?”

“i’m flattered that you remember.” you chuckle. “or that you’re not pretending to have amnesia to escape this conversation at least.”

to be fair, if it registered to him a few seconds earlier on who you are, he might have done exactly that.

but of course he doesn’t admit it. his ears just turn red while he utters a lie. “that’d be silly. it’s not like you’d believe me if i said that.”

“touché. but i still reckon you’d do it. you are an actor.” a smirk makes its way to your lips. “how’s that going, by the way? last time i heard, you’re being murdered on twitter and being called a world class asshole.”

he winces slightly. “that’s an exaggeration.”

“i don’t think so. you are on hiatus because of it, aren’t you?”

“not anymore.”

“oh?”

“you seem disappointed,” he retorts. “then again, i wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve been praying for my downfall ever since you-know-what happened.”

“you-know-what? do you mean when you dumped me?” you explicitly say, not even missing a beat after he was done speaking.

yes, you’re an ex-girlfriend. sadly, an ex-girlfriend he knows he didn’t treat well because of what you just reminded him of.

he presses his lips together, gathering all the confidence he has left. “yes. i do mean that. and i am sorry about it. truly.”

“you dumped me over the phone.”

“i’m aware of that too.”

“you didn’t explain why you wanted to break up.”

a pause. “yes, i didn’t.”

“and just because we coincidentally met again after so many years, you finally apologize?”

“that’s about right.”

“it doesn’t sound very sincere to me.”

he widens his eyes, surprised that you’re not letting this go as easily as he thought you would. from what he remembers, you’re the type of person who doesn’t hold grudges; you’re the type of person that everybody would say was genuinely good. in fact, it’s what he was mad about years back when you were still together—how you often let other people take advantage of your kindness, often putting you in a position of being a doormat or an emotional punching bag.

but that’s almost a decade ago. he feels bad that he’s not sure whether to be proud of you or to be a bit frustrated that he’s on the receiving end of this.

“anyways,” you add after the excruciating awkward silence, “as much as i want to give you a piece of my mind, i have to go. i’d say it was nice seeing you and that we should catch up sometime, jin, but that would be a lie.”

seokjin’s supposed to let you go despite his conscience eating him up. he’s not entirely stupid, it’s apparent that it’s better not to reopen healed wounds, and judging from the manner you spoke to him, you don’t want to give him an opening to enter your life again.

but then your phone rings, which you’re holding on one hand while the other holds a paper bag from the coffeeshop. And then, seokjin sees it—sees mr. park’s face on the screen with a caller ID named ‘dad’, that he can’t prevent himself from staying still and allowing you to leave without explaining what he’s witnessing right now.

“wait,” he holds your elbow as you’re trying to walk past him, “your dad isn’t mr. park, is he? i know your dad. He’s not hyunbin park.”

you blink at him, confused at the random question, however a wave of understanding swiftly washes over you. he watches you grin all of the sudden, eyes twinkling in amusement. he’s familiar with that expression, and it’s scaring him to death because he now has a pretty good idea on what your answer is going to be.

“you’re here in the city because of an audition,” you state, tone so sure that it makes him sweat. “don’t tell me… You’re auditioning for grease?”

he doesn’t tell you he’s auditioning for grease.

your grin widens even further, your next sentence inducing a sensation that might be a heart attack.

“then you’ve met dad. he is hyunbin park, the director.”

fuckity fuck fUCK FUCK!

note. AHHH first chapter is out! i hope y’all like this because i’m happy with how this turned out hehe. this drabble series will only have 10 episodes and i’m gonna pray that i get to finish this before the year 2024 ends 😭

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

106 notes · View notes

bucknastysbabe · 8 months ago

Text

Handsome Devil • C. Cole

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 4.3k of uhhh I love this little guy lets break him

Tags: PEGGING, prostate massage, anal sex, oral (f and m! receiving) femdom, modern au, college au, Criston is actually a little Baby Girl but pretends to be Big Man, like he’s a touch-starved needy SLUT, enemies to lovers, fast burn, Degredation and dirty talk, feminization, alcohol use, Alicent is a sad lesbian and I stand by this, man tears, subby spacey boy, Alicent is DONEEEE

Taglist: @arcielee @bambitas @moncherrii @starogeorgina @valeskafics @aemonds-holy-milk @targaryenbarbie @sugarpoppss2 @lovelykhaleesiii @thought--bubble @fairysluna

The more you learned about the enigmatic Criston Cole, the less you wanted to know. Mainly because his bravado was a bluff you could only seem to see. He listened to those idiotic chauvinist podcasts. You’d almost asked Alicent why she brought the asshole around so often.

But you knew. They both got dumped by Rhaenyra, who was moving on as they stewed. Her new man was quite hot. Poor Ali, she was the epitome of sad sapphic poetry. Stuck in the ways of her upbringing— a limbo of sorts. Still, a dear friend whom you tried to uplift and support, especially after the breakup.

Meanwhile, she was getting closer to Criston. Who you had remained to have a normal conversation with. Usually, you’d argue with him until he would yell or storm out— over topics such as tampons being taxed or the gender pay gap. Alicent would merely ignore you two, pouring over a book, headphones in.

The prick was a waste of good looks in your opinion. There had to be a chink in his proverbial armor. Perhaps something under the puffed chest and nice clothes. Social media didn’t turn up much besides his frat and different dates every day of the week. He had multiple retweets of meninism or whatever the fuck incels called it these days.

The only observation you could draw from his socials and continuous annoying existence was he couldn’t keep a girlfriend. You weren’t going to reach out to Rhaenyra either.

You’d have to test your theory next time he was over with Ali. That was nearly always if he wasn’t out being a “frat star” or had class. You heard his clipped tones and her replies as you lay in bed. You’d have to get up and say hello. There was an ongoing competition to who could give the least excited greeting after all.

“Oh, you again.”

“Yep,” he replied, popping the ‘p’. You narrowed your eyes and shouldered past his stupidly good-looking body. You could feel the heat of his gaze follow your frame to the refrigerator.

“Care for something Cole?”

“Sparkling water. Anyways have you heard about this new-“

You tuned Criston’s impressively sexist commentary out, handing the sparkling water to him and landing a smack to a pert ass. It was a heavy handed smack— like the prick was some poor girl at a party. Alicent already had her headphones in, typing away, pointedly ignoring you two. Criston spluttered and gaped, brows furrowing.

“What the fuck was that for?”

His brows were pulled tight and cheeks flushed. ‘Fuck yes!’ you thought, this might be ammo. Shrugging you stated, “I dunno, figured you talk so much about these horrid men you’d want to be treated like one of their ‘bitches’, yes?”

Criston hissed, “You’re so dramatic, don’t touch me.” You couldn’t help but smirk at his trembling hands on the countertop, drink left untouched. A certain stagnancy was in the air. Making a faux expression of concern you cooed at him.

“Oh, my bad, did alpha sigma male chad Criston get his pretty ass slapped?”

He gasped, actually gasped out loud.

You changed gears, “I mean, someone needs to fuck all those emotions outta’ you. Such a whiny thing. None of your frat bros take it out on that sweet ass? Back when you were a freshman? C’mon you were soooo twinky then.”

Criston’s bravado had shattered quite more than you anticipated. His stark white knuckles on the marble counter trembled, a red flush appearing down the tan neck. He ran an exasperated hand through his curls, voice weak, “I’ve done nothing ah-of the sort. What game are you playing here? I only fuck girls.”

“The hot gossip was that Rhaenyra had you on all fours, like a sweet pup.”

He chugged the sparkling water, sweat beading on his forehead. Placing it down with a shaking hand Cole warbled, crossing his arms defensively “Th-that’s lies, fuck off, really, you’re into that degeneracy?” You laughed and sauntered off with your own drink, pausing at your bedroom door.

“If you need a good fucking, my door is open, I’d give that mouth of yours something to suck on.”

Criston visibly shivered and swallowed, adjusting his pants. Narrowing his eyes, he snatched his laptop and walked away. You blew a kiss, closing your door. Either Criston would take the bait or continue on into misery. You had a feeling it would only be a matter of time.

Ali and Criston were trashed from her sorority’s formal and you said you’d be the designated driver. You had completely forgotten until Ali sent a text, “met a hot chick walking to her dorm, Cris still needs a ride. Pleaseeeee🥺🥺🥺🥺” For the sake of Alicent getting her pussy ate for once you told her you’d pick up bozo. Which he eagerly got into your car, still taking pulls from his bottle of dark liquor.

You stared in abject horror at his disheveled state, particularly the way his pinched look was absent. Criston Cole was shitfaced to say the least. His eyes were hazy and reddened, a loose way in which he held himself, none of that tightness. Criston sat forward, whining, “Change the music, something else, ugh!”

“We have a 30-minute drive so it better be good Cole.” He clumsily plugged his phone in…and out came the wailing tones of Morrissey. You did a double take— wondering if Criston Cole was truly a fan of the ultimate sad sack music? You loved the band too but this felt...strange. Criston laid back and sang along, stretching his legs, dark hair flowing in the wind.

“The Smiths huh?”

Dark eyes regarded you slowly. He mumbled, “The- the songs, they get me. It’s s’good. I’ve heard you listen to them.”

“Yeah they’re a favorite of mine actually,” you admitted. How come he couldn’t talk to you about that? You scoffed, he was such a fucking weirdo. Criston smiled goofily, looking over at you. He laughed, “You’re being nice to me!”

“You’re not being a raging dick head, of course, I’ll return the favor Criston.”

He grinned some more, eyes out the window, singing along to the lyrics. His smile faded but he continued to softly murmur along.

And I’m not happy and I’m not sad.

“You hanging in there okay? Not feeling sick?”

“Nah, m’fine, didn’t really hit it heavy until later. When we had to dance and shit.” You smirked, prodding a broad shoulder. Criston snorted, “I don’t like to dance unless I’m properly loaded, too awkward.”

You laughed, “I love to dance! It’s not all business.”

He took another swig and rasped, “Trust me, it’s quite awful, I can deal with that shitty frat grinding for a bit, no finesse in that. You won’t catch me fist pumping around.”

You decided drunk Criston was entertaining. Fishing through the car’s compartments you asked “Wanna smoke?” He groaned in delight, “Fuck yes, Ali hates it.” You lit up one and handed it to him, suppressing the shiver at the soft touch of his warm fingertips.

You smoked along with him, belting Handsome Devil.

I say, I say, I say, I crack the whip! And you skip but you deserve it— you deserve it deserve it deserve it.

He giggled a bit, pretty face exclaiming the innuendo filled lyrics. Cole unbuttoned his stiff blazer and threw the last dregs of his cigarette out. You softly glanced over, shaking your head at this strange version of the bane of your existence. He raised a thick brow and questioned “What? You’re looking through me again.”

“You’re a fun drunk,” you laughed with eyes on the road.

“I’ve been told that I don’t know- it’s weird,” he murmured.

“It’s not weird. You don’t need a drink to lighten yourself up,” you playfully rolled your eyes, “Or be a raging chauvinist.”

Criston narrowed his eyes, lightly shoving you by the shoulder. You giggled and yelped, “Hey- easy there- I’m driving!” Criston snorted, “Then drive and don’t insult me. Also, I’m taking Ali’s bed, better than that shit they give me at the frat house.”

Criston is alone in the apartment with you. That would be a first. You merely nodded with a weak, “Aye-aye captain.” He asked for another cigarette, singing and smoking. You would peer at his relaxed face and shoulders, smiling softly.

It would be back to normal come morning.

He was a bit drunker than you expected upon arrival. Criston stumbled a bit closing the car door, clumsy footsteps leading to the stairs. You followed along, getting out your key and snickering. Cole smelled good; a mix of cologne, cigarettes, and expensive bourbon. You ignored the way he was towering over you.

You unlocked the door and let him in, turning back to lock it again. As you twisted again, the brunette’s big hands and lips were on your face. His voice cracked as he moaned, “Want you so fucking bad, c’mon baby, c’mon.” You’d love to indulge him but the man was wasted.

Gently removing yourself from him you shook your head to state, “Criston. You’re drunk. Maybe sleep this off a little before making moves.” He frowned, puppy eyes shining pitifully. He huffed, running a hand through his wind-blown hair. “Right, right, m’sorry, I just.” He began to walk away.

“You just what?”

Criston shot you the most pitiful look. The type of look that made you want to baby him. Then make him cry. You leaned toward babying him right now. Criston untied his laces, voice sulky, “You intimidate me so I just act like a prick. I thought since the other day you might be interested.”

You sighed at the pouting man.

“Criston, darling, I really wish we didn’t have this moment when you’re fucked up. No funny business but you can cuddle with me tonight. Since you look like a sad puppy.”

He seemed to brighten a bit, apologizing, “I- I know! And don’t call me that.”

Rolling tired eyes, you moved into your bedroom while stripping. He stared at you merely clad in underwear and a thin tank. Maybe you could play around with him in the morning? Alicent will want to play sleepover at least two more nights before the inevitable breakdown.

Criston eventually shuffled in, wearing his briefs and dumb little argyle socks. He climbed clumsily onto the bed, you chiding, “Under here dummy, here!” He snickered, warm body sidling to your own. A tan arm wrapped its way around your waist, the man like a damn Koala the way he plastered himself to you.

He pressed a few little kisses before getting batted on the head. Criston groaned before snuffling, “You’re so strange, God, make me feel goddamn crazy.” His legs intertwined with your own, lips smirking against your nape.

“So does this mean you aren’t always…so sexist?” you asked.

He didn’t reply but you knew the answer. Sleep reached the pair of you easily, especially poor drunk Criston. He’d be alright after some breakfast. The man laced his fingers with yours, dreaming of happy things.

You awoke with a very hard dick slotted between your ass cheeks. Criston still had a death grip on you— inky curls tickling your face. Raising a brow you took inventory of the situation. The man was not awake. But he was groaning and rutting against your ass.

This should be good.

“Criston- uhhh- Criston!,” you yelped. Brown eyes opened wide, his cute face half red and curls adorably sleep-mussed. He retracted himself in a flail of limbs, apologizing profusely. He seemed to be getting more frantic until you put a hand on his surprisingly still-hard dick.

Criston’s wide eyes flicked down to your hand and back up to your dead serious face. He gulped, “I- uh- enjoyed last night. Sorry.” Holding back a laugh, your hand tightened a little on his girth, straining the dark fabric. The man was bigger than you thought, especially after all that horrid talk.

He whimpered a little, eyelids fluttering, dark lips falling open. You questioned the man “Well, Ali won’t be here for a bit. Maybe I can make good on my promise Hm?” Another whimper graced your ears. Criston whined softly, “Please, yes, please.”

You immediately straddled him, Criston groaning, remaining pliant. Caressing his cheek you asked “How’s the hangover? Maybe some breakfast and water first? I’ll be a good little housewife and make it for you.” He scoffed, lips turning up a hair, “I always thought you had it in you. Sure.”

You ignored his comments while making some French toast. Soon you’d have the man crying and shaking, Criston could cling to his manhood while he ate. Immediately after— you two had climbed back into bed, you atop his slim hips, the tank top was far gone.

His big hands greedily pawed at your tits, Criston lapping into your mouth. You had reached around to curl your fingers in slightly overlong hair, moaning into his mouth. You’d been lazily rutting your hips against his cock, enjoying the man trying to cut off his moans.

What was he going to do when you had two fingers in his ass playing with his prostate?

You smirked and pulled back, him chasing you forward, brows pinching. Sliding both of your palms down his chest you cooed, “Lay back, I got you, sweetheart.” Criston fell back like a chopped tree, dark eyes looking up. You inched down tan skin until you sat between his thighs, patting his hips so you could get his underwear off. His adorably soaked fucking briefs.

“You’re excited hm? All wet for me?”

Criston shivered, thighs twitching as he bit his bottom lip, swallowing audibly. You eased off his underwear, fighting back laughter as you threw them to the side. It was the reverse of what usually happened in bed for the man— you knew that. His cock was flushed and gorgeous as it slightly dribbled pre onto olive skin.

You hummed in excitement, laying on your belly as you took his length in hand. Criston’s stomach twitched as he breathed in sharply, face agonized. You immediately lowered your head to the slit and laved off the pre, eyes coming up to meet his.

“Oh fucking…fuck,” he muttered, hands fisting in the comforter. He was holding back— big time. You would get Criston to unwind soon. You felt the poor baby didn’t know what was hitting him. Swallowing down the head of his cock you rolled his balls with your other hand, making the man groan and twitch again.

You bobbed your head in a familiar rhythm, making sure to drool all over his cock, the wetter the better. Coming up to flick your tongue at the frenulum or his sensitive tip had more spit rolling down to his balls and Criston throwing his head back to moan.

You’d try a little stimulation first before shocking the man with the anal question. While still sucking, the hand holding his balls crept back to shove two fingers up into that sensitive thin skin. You felt him from the other side, that hard gland was a bit swollen. Good god, had the guy not cum in days?

Criston’s entire demeanor shifted as you stroked his taint. His legs subtly widened, stomach sucking in as he let out the tiniest little whine. You pulled off his cock immediately, still stroking as you needled, “Crisssston, you like me playing with your special spot? Spreading your legs for me like a slut.”

He whimpered and a hand came up to his head as if to hide his eyes. Cole managed to reply after heaving a couple of times. The man moaned, “You- you can’t! Ohmygod s’fucking good- no!”

Kissing his trembling hips you kept massaging and stroking, murmuring in a more gentle tone “It’s okay sweetheart, it’ll be our little secret, I think you’ll feel good if you let me play some more. Really milk you dry. You want that baby?”

He moaned long and loud, cock slightly spitting onto his messy stomach. You grinned, watching Criston unravel by the second. He was a goddamn princess, wanting to be babied and loved on. He babbled, “Please yes— don’t tell anyone please I want it so so so bad please!”

You smiled at him, pressing lips to his hipbone again, shushing his pleading. This was going to be a fun ride for your new toy. You eased your fingers back, instructing Cole to bend his legs, he huffed and immediately followed the order.

It took a lot of petting and hushing until you’d breached his tight rim. You had to get up and grab lube when Criston started to ramble and tighten in apprehension. He was looser around your fingers but still wound tighter than a bowstring.

Every breath was a soft little noise, his dark orbs nervously flicking down to watch. You slipped your middle finger along the pointer, sitting flush up against his thighs for comfort. Watching his face you fingered deeper, fingers awkwardly searching for his prostate. You knew you’d found it when he jolted and shouted abruptly, tensing up.

He mewled like a cute little slut when you dragged your fingers across the gland, legs tightening around your hips before he arched and spread wider for you. Cooing in surprise you remarked, “Good boy, yesss, spreading your legs for me like a sweet baby.”

Criston seemed to lose more control at your words, crying wordlessly and writhing as he was worked over. His hands grasped and held at your waist, nails digging in just so. You grinned and put more pressure on him. He responded easily, shuddering and whining as his cock leaked more and more.

“Please, oh my god, please more, more, touch me!”

You leaned over his trembling body, lips ghosting over his drooling ones, practically fucking him with your fingers. Criston was sloppy as he pressed swollen lips against yours, tongue desperately lapping inside, moaning all the while. Snickering at him only had him whine and try harder, brain slowly oozing out of his ears with every rough jab of your digits.

You breathed when he did, softly demanding, “You’re so damn needy Criston, come for me and loosen up pretty baby.” Swiping a lazy hand across the mess of his sensitive stomach had Cole gasping and falling apart whimpering. His trembling hands slapped to the bed as you felt his ass tighten around your fingers, cock flexing as he spilled all over his stomach.

Criston dissolved into tears, blabbering, “I-I’m still cumming, ah, mmm, I’m s-still cumming!” You smirked as you dragged across his sweet spot again, forcing another whiny sob and gush of essence out. He was writhing again, back arching to figure out whether to escape or fuck back onto your digits.

“Goodness. You’ve made a mess of yourself. Attention whore, you just needed to be coddled and loved on. Stupid little pet,” you drawled.

“Mhm, mhm, yes!,” Criston groaned, “A fucking whore.”

“You want something bigger in your ass honey? Since you’re my whore?”

His eyes rolled a little, you having to hold his cheek to get the man’s full attention. Criston stared at you with wide eyes, mouth fumbling around a response. You slid your fingers out of him gingerly, relocating to a nearby shirt, wiping your hand off.

Criston breathed, “God oh- uh- God, yes, yes I want it.”

He blinked in shock when you were back between his thighs, looming over his already used body. The polka-dotted harness and strap-on cock were secured. Criston had been quiet and pliant while you got ready, hand rubbing his achy cock, squirming and softly sighing in need. You tittered at him in sympathy, poor baby's dick had not wilted since the beginning of this excursion.

You fisted the strap with a lubed hand, smiling at Criston's little noises and trembling. Off a look alone, one would think he was either a virgin or a nympho. Sliding your non-lubed palm up his inner thigh had Criston whine deep in his chest, dark lashes fluttering across reddened cheeks. He slurred softly "M'ready, unnh, be gentle?"

Rubbing soothing circles into his lean thigh you hummed, honey dripping from your words, "Don't have to worry about a thing sweetie, I've got you. You're gonna love it I promise." Criston nodded, puppy eyes trained on you, his hands slithering to your hips to grip the flesh.

You rubbed the tip of the blunt strap against his loosened ass, inching in enough to pop the tip. Criston’s breath drew tight, eyes wide, fear flitting across his features. You shoved both of your thighs up under his, stroking tan flanks while murmuring, “Relax, s’okay baby, jus’ us Criston, relax.”

He nodded with a strangled noise, the silicon cock sliding in halfway, you laying down atop Criston. You traced a hand across his stubbled cheek to dark hair, kissing eager lips. Cole opened for you with a hopeless moan, then a cry as you jerked your hips— the fake dick all the way inside now. You whispered between kisses, “Mm- there we go- good boy- takin’ me all the way like that.”

“Uh-huh,” he garbled out, pretty eyes rolling.

His bigger arms had wrapped around your back, leaving your lower half to fuck him in a shallow rhythm, grazing his sensitive sweet spot. You had one arm up and in Criston’s hair, the other holding his hip as you fucked him. Moans fell out of his swollen mouth on every thrust, his legs flopping between tightening and falling loose.

“Aw, baby, you feel good? You being my good whore Criston?”

Criston sobbed, rutting back onto your dick and wrapping long legs around your waist. He slurred some nonsense as you fucked into him harder, angling downward to hit his prostate. Soon you struck it again, the sweet baby between your legs crying and wailing, kissing and holding you all the while.

You idly wondered if the neighbors could hear Criston being thoroughly used and broken down into mush.

He panted, “Oh, god god god, oh baby, m’gonna cum again!”

“Yeah priss? Gonna cum from having a dick in your slutty pussy?”

Criston trembled and made the most pitiful noise, blabbering and kissing frantically as his arms tightened, “Fuck! Yes!” You grinned and returned the needy little pecks, clapping your hips against his ass, watching his cock leak and swell once again. He’d probably have the orgasm of his life soon. Striking Cole deep began the fire, and then your words set him aflame, burning up as he came with another wail.

He impossibly tightened around you, cum flooding your stomachs as he whimpered, cried, and carried on like the needy little thing he was. Criston sobbed, “Pl-pl-ease don’t ever stop-p! S’go-od! Ohmygod m’all yours, only yours, forever!” You grinned and eased out of him, unclipping the strap-on so you could coddle your whiny toy.

“Such a cute baby, did so well, hmm, you needed to cum huh priss?”

Criston nodded into your neck, not wanting to let go. He asked in a tiny voice “Lemme be yours?” Stroking his slightly sweaty hair you replied, “Sure babes, just remember who blew your mind right here. You’re mine now.” He let out a soft noise, nodding pliantly, nosing and kissing your smooth skin. If you could picture it, hearts were just appearing over the man.

You’d have to talk to him again when he wasn’t a submissive mess— but Criston seemed quite eager to be petted and called pretty. Fucking Princess. You held back your laughter as the thought bubbled up. He was so damn clingy right now you could pull out a purse and he’d crawl into it, or if you had a leash? Criston Cole would definitely be excited.

He just needed to be trained up a little, s’all.

Alicent was tired. She had met a nice girl for once, but she couldn't go shack up for a week as much as she wanted to. Criston and her 'froomie' had been radio silent. The redhead feared they may have killed each other. She gently keyed into the tiny apartment and slunk in, eyes darting around.

"That's good, ah, good boy!" came the cry of Alicent's roommate. She clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes widening in horror. Alicent wanted to melt into the floor. Dear bestie had one of her 'toys' over. Alicent could maybe duck and scramble her way into her room-- from the noises, it sounded like she was receiving some oral attention.

Ali dropped to her knees and ignored the moaning and slick noises. A deeper voice moaned something, Alicent's roommate responding, "Oh shush prissy, there's no one here. You're just being paranoid." The Hightower girl paused again, crawling behind the loveseat. The noises of very...excited cunnilingus ramped back up. She made the horrid choice to peak out before making the final cross.

Criston 'I don't eat pussy' Cole was on his knees. Eating the pussy of his mortal enemy, Alicent's roommate. Quite enjoyed it from the way he had a hand shoved down his sweats. How long had they been at it? It hit Alicent that the whole apartment reeked of marathon fucking. She could not believe this. Sure they had lowkey sexual tension but this?

Alicent scrambled across to her room, eyes forward and praying no one would notice.

"OH MY GOD- NOnONO! Christ!"

"Oh shit sorry Alicat! I didn't hear you come in! He's trained now!"

Alicent stood behind her closed door, hand over her helplessly smiling mouth. Oh my god, she couldn't be serious right now. Criston Cole broke in as the roomie's toy while she was gone. Hell must have frozen over. She laughed, Criston's miserable voice echoing from the living room. Alicent had to get away from the door so he would not hear her losing her mind. Good for them, good for them!

#hotd fanfic #hotd smut #ser criston cole #criston cole x reader #ser criston cole x reader #modern au #college au #sub!criston #we pegging today #he’s a silly little baby

190 notes · View notes