#i hope whoever is reading these tags has a nice day

[springsketches]

I finished! Behold, my Slay the princess OC the Knightess! She is a branch off of the Razor Route :D

[chimcess]

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

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

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

𝐀 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬

*vision bored doesn't describe readers' looks it describes the vibes of the story*

Pairing: dark!stalker!Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summary: Life takes a sinister turn once you begin renovations on your old, eerie house. Strange occurrences start piling up—like missing security camera footage and mysterious messages from an unknown stalker. The tension really amps up when you stumble upon red roses, serving as a chilling reminder of the stalker's presence and danger. Despite trying to brush off the threats, the situation escalates when the stalker directly reaches out to you, leaving you fearing for your life and bracing for a potential confrontation.

IMPORTANT: This fic is based on haunting/hunting Adeline i do not claim or own any characters from the series I only used it as inspiration, all the credit to H.D Carlton for being an amazing inspiration and writer.

Warnings/tags: MDNI 18+, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, stalking, breaking and entering, bondage (rope and tape), groping, grinding, fear, non/dub-con, rope burns, toxic people, degradation, praise, feet kink? (maybe kind of), pussy eating, fingering, spit, biting, clit biting, breeding kink, kissing, protected sex wrap it before you tap it, kids. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME

WC: 6.5k

Small things, it all started small. Ever since renovations started on the house, life has gotten strange. The old dark house didn't help much, but it was cheap to buy such a run-down place when you originally got it. It's worth more now that you've fixed up parts of it, but you still feel like it's dark once those cobweb-covered walls are watching you like you're something to be hunted, or like you're in a horror movie and aren't noticing the obvious hints of a killer.

And you weren't entirely sure you weren't avoiding a killer with how many small changes you saw around the house. Glasses were left on the counter, seemingly freshly poured, even if you didn't remember pouring any. Your nice scotch bottle had less fluid in it every time you checked it, yet whenever you wanted to check the cameras your friend Daphne suggested you put up for your safety, there was missing footage from certain hours of the day even during the night, whatever or whoever was doing these things was smart and calculated with every move. You don't even feel safe showering, Over a month of weird stuff, no face no answers just fear

The more you tried to be rational about how you couldn't have a stalker, the weirder things got. Like he wanted you to know he was there. You started picking up on little changes, the stuff you initially brushed off as maybe just your mind playing tricks on you. But then it became crystal clear when you kept finding those red roses laid out for you, no thorns in sight. Every time a red rose without thorns appeared, it felt sinister. You'd thought how considerate it was of the stalker to avoid using the thorns, but it felt more like a taunt like the person responsible wanted to remind you of their presence with every rose and to show you that they could easily hurt you, but chose not to.

Tonight wasn't any different. You came home from some grocery shopping to see three red roses sitting on your kitchen counter, trimmed and tied together. You groaned and put down the bags of groceries before tossing the roses completely, trying not to pay it any mind. You'd done that the past five times, hoping giving him no attention would make him go away. Your phone buzzed, interrupting your unpacking. You read the text message, and a chill ran down your spine when you realized it was from an unknown number.

Unknown: Do you not like roses?

You saw the message and dropped your phone, immediately scrambling to find something to defend yourself with. You ran to the knife block, grabbing a large, semi-sharp knife. You could worry about the melting ice cream tomorrow, not when your life was at stake. A stalker's murder attempt was imminent, and you weren't going down without a fight. Your phone buzzed again, indicating a new message from your stalker. Your muscles tensed as you carefully picked up your phone to check the message, feeling a sense of dread wash over you when you read it.

Unknown: I see you're taking precautions. But trust me, violence won't solve anything. Let's have a civilized conversation, shall we?

The audacity of the message sent shivers down your spine. How could this person be so calm, so composed, while installing such terror in your life? The thought of engaging in conversation with them made your skin crawl, but you knew ignoring them wasn't an option either.

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your courage. You replied with the knife still in hand, determined to stand your ground.

You: I don't want to talk. Leave me alone.

The response was almost immediate.

Unknown: Ignoring won't make me disappear. You can't escape me.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and the gravity of the situation intensified. The stalker's persistence was chilling, and you knew you needed to involve the authorities. As you dialed 911, another message flashed on your screen.

Unknown: Calling for help? It won't make a difference. I'm always one step ahead.

Fear tightened its grip on you, but you continued with the call, silently praying that law enforcement could indeed intervene in this sinister game. As you spoke with the emergency operator, your stalker's messages continued to flood in.

Unknown: You can't hide forever. I'll be watching, waiting.

Each message felt like a dagger, cutting through your sense of security. The operator assured you that help was on the way, but that didn't stop the ominous texts.

Unknown: The sirens won't save you.

The final message came through, short and ominous, making you block the number.

Unknown: Tick-tock.

You waited almost the whole night, but no one came. The silence was deafening, making you doubt that your stalker would make a move on you. Perhaps your fear has gotten the better of you, making you panic unnecessarily. Either way, you couldn't shake the feeling that danger was just around the corner, leaving you a bit on edge.

As days turned into weeks, the quiet dragged on, and you started second-guessing yourself. The fear kind of faded, replaced by this sort of 'what now?' feeling. A whole week passed, and you didn't spot a single red rose anywhere. The absence of any signs from your stalker had lulled you into a false sense of security, the fear becoming a distant memory. The red roses that once haunted your thoughts had blurred into the background, and life had cautiously resumed a semblance of normalcy.

Just when you thought the nightmare had ended, he resurfaced. On an ordinary day, as you hesitated at the threshold of your home, a cold shiver ran down your spine and you saw something on the ground. You squinted at it for a moment before realizing what it was; a few red roses, perfectly trimmed and tied together with string. Your phone buzzed. You gasped, your heart racing as you realized that the rose had to be from your stalker.

Unknown: "A week is a long time to go without hearing from me, don't you think?”

Your fear grew as you considered possible reasons for your stalker's sudden absence. They'd been relentless with the red roses until now, constantly reminding you of their presence through the ominous messages tied to them. So why would they wait an entire week before finally breaking the silence? Was it a psychological game meant to make you believe you were safe long enough to let your guard down? Perhaps they'd been watching your house, waiting for a good opportunity to strike. Your mind was reeling with possibilities, yet the uncertainty only added to your mounting anxiety.

You quickly walked inside the house and blocked that number as well, not bothering to bring in the roses. You left them on your doormat to rot, as you had no desire to let the flowers remain in your home. Soon after, you heard a buzzing sound coming from your phone and instinctively answered.

"Hello," you said, hoping to hear a familiar voice on the other end. There was no reply for a second. Then suddenly, a deep, gravelly voice infused with a Southern twang unexpectedly responded, sending shivers down your spine. You froze for a moment, pondering the uncanny timing of the call. What gave it away wasn't just the voice, but the chilling familiarity of the situation. The sudden appearance of the roses, the ominous messages, and now this call from "Daphne 💕" at the most unsettling moment – it all clicked into place. It couldn't be a random coincidence. Your gut twisted with certainty; it had to be the stalker, cunningly using the guise of your friend's name to unnerve you further.

The voice spoke again, "I missed our little game, I'm glad you blocked my last number, as it made our game much more interesting," the voice taunted, sending shivers coursing down your spine.

"Why are you doing this? Is Daphne okay?" You shouted into the phone, your thoughts running wild with a million questions and concerns. The stalker's laughter sent chills down your spine and increased your frustration. "Why would I hurt Daphne if you're the one I want?" the stalker laughed again as if your worry was a joke to them. It seemed clear that the stalker had little to no compassion for your best friend's safety.

You desperately needed a way to get to the point, so you chose not to waste any more time. "If you're after me, then why are you pretending to be my best friend? Wouldn't it be easier to just text me with your number?”

"Well, that doesn't seem to work. You've blocked every number I've tried," the stalker replied, their tone oozing with smugness. It dawned on you that they'd been meticulously keeping track of every number you blocked, instead of simply moving on like a normal person would.

"Touche," you responded evenly, sensing the stalker's growing frustration as you stood your ground. Their voice took on a darker edge as they acknowledged your resistance. "Blocking my numbers isn't cutting it. Looks like we need to switch up the game," they declared, sending a chill down your spine. You couldn't shake the feeling that their next move would be far more sinister than merely sending flowers.

"So, what do you propose we do now that blocking your numbers isn't working?" you asked calmly. The stalker laughed, a menacing sound that only added to the tension between the two of you. "I have a few ideas," the stalker replied, their tone of voice hinting at something sinister. "Let's hear them," you replied, keeping your tone of voice as calm as possible to disguise the fear growing inside of you. The stalker paused for a moment before speaking, as if they were plotting their next move.

You walked into your kitchen and grabbed a knife like you did a week prior. The stalker's dismissive response sent a chill down your spine. "And a flimsy kitchen knife is a solution... sweetpea, those knives in that block of yours aren't as sharp as you think," the stalker responded, making you look around nervously. The stalker had made it clear that they could see you, which raised several new questions. How much could they see? Could they see you right now? Were they hiding nearby?

"Like that would deter me. In my hands, this knife can and will kill you," you spoke with false confidence as you walked to your bedroom. The stalker's dismissive attitude frustrated you, and you were tired of being the one who was afraid. You wanted to gain the upper hand in this situation, and you were prepared to do whatever it took to protect yourself.

You grabbed your desk chair and a pillow before taking a seat with the phone and knife still in hand. The stalker responded in a mocking tone, "Oh, what are you going to do with that knife? Stab me through the phone?" They were challenging you, and you were determined to prove that you weren't as afraid as they thought. You were determined not to let them get under your skin and decided to respond with your mocking tone. "Maybe I will," you replied, deciding to match their confidence.

"No need for hypotheticals… you smell good by the way," he responded, so casually it made you gasp audibly as you suddenly imagined how close he was. "No need to get all fussy," the stalker continued, their tone of voice a mixture of amusement and malice. The thought of the stalker's presence just inches away from you made you hot and uncomfortable in a way you hadn't felt before.

You shut the blinds in your bedroom and frantically rummaged through your closet, stabbing at clothes out of sheer terror. Opting to take a seat, you vowed not to sleep until the psycho lurking in your house was either gone or dealt with permanently. The idea of him being in such proximity sent waves of unease rippling through your body. Uncertain of his capabilities, paranoia set in, making you hyper-aware of every subtle sound or movement. It felt like only a matter of time before you'd hear him drawing closer.

The night felt like it stretched on forever, filled with nothing but anxiety and dread. You must've checked the locks on every door and window a dozen times, feeling more paranoid with each click. Even going around, peeping through the blinds and peeking under the bed, making sure nothing was lurking in the shadows before finally settling down in your desk chair for the night. You could barely stop yourself from jumping at every little sound. Around 1 am, you started to feel tired but kept yourself awake for as long as you could. However, your exhaustion soon caught up to you, and you began to yawn constantly, fighting against the urge to fall asleep.

It was 1:30 am when you decided you couldn't take it anymore. You were thirsty and tired, and the three-day-old water bottle on your nightstand didn't sound too appealing. You grabbed the knife as you made your way down the stairs, trying to stay alert while simultaneously fighting the exhaustion that was starting to take over. You finally reached the kitchen and took a deep breath, grateful for the chance to stretch your legs. You poured yourself a glass of water and gulped it down quickly as you thought of the long night you still had ahead of you.

You can feel the exhaustion slowly taking over as your eyes start to feel heavy, and the surroundings turn hazy. You can feel yourself starting to lose control as the exhaustion takes over, and it becomes harder and harder to stay alert. You feel as if you're caught in a fog, losing touch with reality more and more as time goes on.

You stumble into your room, your vision getting blurrier by the second. Exhaustion has you barely standing. Darkness starts to take over, swallowing everything up as your surroundings turn fuzzy. It feels like you're losing control, like a heavy blanket pulling you down. A fog surrounds you, making everything dark. As darkness closes in, you can feel yourself slipping away, struggling to stay upright as your vision fades to black.

You jolted awake as something rough brushed against your wrist. Your surroundings rushed back into focus as the exhaustion subsided a bit. You tried to see what had touched your wrist, only to find your hands tied securely to the headboard with rough, coarse rope. After the initial shock wore off, you started to feel the tension in your wrists as the ropes began to dig into the skin.

Your room was dark, illuminated only by the moonlight flooding in from your window. The blinds and window were now open, letting in a cool breeze. You looked around in a panic, and that's when you saw him. The contractor you hired 2 months ago to help with house renovations stood menacingly in the moonlight, his large frame and pepper-sprinkled hair glinting in the moonlight. His appearance made you feel a wave of fear and suspicion, which was only furthered as he stepped forward into the light.

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat as you realized he had covered your mouth with tape. Panic surged within you, questions swirling in your mind like a tempest. Why was this happening? Why are you? What was the significance of the roses? And the most pressing question: How did he get into your house?

His presence loomed over you, a sinister silhouette against the moonlit backdrop. Every detail seemed amplified in the dimness—the way his eyes bore into yours, the rough texture of the tape against your skin, the faint rustle of fabric as he shifted closer. Fear pulsed through your veins, a relentless drumbeat drowning out all other thoughts.

You struggled against the bindings, the coarse rope biting into your wrists as you attempted to break free. But his gaze held you captive, a silent reminder of your vulnerability. During the chaos, a desperate longing for answers consumed you, driving you to seek clarity in the shadows that enveloped you both.

As the stalker's words filled the dimly lit room, they carried a weight of uncertainty. "I just want to keep you safe," he said, his voice oddly calm, though it sent shivers down your spine. Despite his calm demeanor, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something off about his intentions.

"I gave you those roses because they mean something to me," he explained, his tone determined yet unsettling, the twang of his accent adding an eerie quality to his words. His explanations felt like pieces of a puzzle you couldn't quite solve, leaving you with more questions than answers.

His justifications for his actions only added to the confusion. "Breakin' in, you see, it was necessary," he continued, his explanation sounding more like a feeble excuse. You couldn't help but wonder what drove him to such extremes, what twisted logic fueled his intrusive behavior.

With each passing moment, the lines between concern and obsession blurred further, leaving you to navigate the murky waters of his intentions. As he spoke of protection and affection in that Southern accent, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to his story than he let on.

"Now," he murmured, his voice taking on an eerie calmness, "I'm going to remove the tape from your mouth. I suggest you cooperate." His tone held a chilling finality, a warning wrapped in false benevolence. "Behave, and we won't have any problems."

As the words escaped his lips, a twisted narrative unfolded, stirring a disturbing sense of familiarity within you. Despite the fear gnawing at your core, there was an unsettling draw towards him, as if his words carried a hidden allure.

His voice, soft yet commanding, stirred conflicting emotions within your mind. Memories of your first encounter flickered like distant flames, igniting a spark of attraction amidst the chaos of fear and confusion.

His eyes, once unsettling, now seemed to hint at vulnerability, reflecting a mirror to your uncertainties. His determination to protect you, though shrouded in ambiguity, blurred the lines between reality and manipulation, leaving you to wonder at his true intentions.

Amidst the turmoil, a nagging sense of unease whispered warnings of danger, urging caution in the face of the unknown. The chill that ran down your spine couldn't be dismissed, as his calm demeanor masked the darkness lurking beneath the surface.

As he reached to remove the tape from your mouth, a fleeting thought crossed your mind, betraying the depths of your confusion. Despite the fear and uncertainty, an undeniable attraction lingered towards this enigmatic figure, the same one who had once breathed life into the walls of your home.

Trapped and bound, vulnerability heightened with each passing moment. The stalker's unsettling words hung in the air as he approached, his eyes now a mix of intensity and what seemed like genuine concern. The tape on your mouth held back the words you longed to shout in defiance.

As the tape peeled away, a shiver coursed through you, a mix of fear and inexplicable attraction. The dim room bore witness to the conflicting dance of emotions, a macabre waltz where danger intertwined with a bizarre sense of connection.

His fingers brushed against your skin as the tape came off, sending a jolt through you. "I suggest you behave," he murmured, his words dripping with a possessive edge that made your skin crawl. Tension thickened in the air as his touch lingered, tracing an unsettling path along your bound wrists.

His actions became increasingly invasive as he leaned closer, his eyes piercing into yours with a sinister intent. "I'll behave if you stop this madness," you retorted, your voice quivering with defiance and desperation. The stalker's eyes narrowed, a sinister smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"Ah, but this ain't madness, my dear," he drawled in a Southern twang, his voice dripping with unsettling calmness. "This is love, a love that you'll come to understand in time."

The words sent a chill down your spine, but you refused to let him see your fear. "Love doesn't involve tying someone up against their will," you shot back, determination lacing your words.

His laughter echoed in the darkness, a hollow sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Oh, but my love, you'll see," he said, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. "You'll come to realize that everything I do, I do for you."

Your heart raced as you struggled against your bindings, the stalker's presence suffocating in its intensity. "Let me go," you pleaded, your voice betraying the fear you fought so hard to hide.

But the stalker only leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear, his Southern twang adding an eerie quality to his words. "I'll let you go when you understand," he whispered, his words a haunting promise of things to come. "Until then, we're playing a game, you and I, a game of cat and mouse."

Your pulse quickened at his words, the sinister game unfolding in the darkness. "I don't want to play your game," you countered, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and defiance.

"But you've already joined, my dear," the stalker replied, his tone chillingly matter-of-fact, his Southern twang accentuating the unsettling atmosphere. "And you'll find that I'm quite skilled at it."

His words loomed in the air, casting a weighty tension that embraced the room. Each of his calculated moves and carefully chosen words served the purpose of unsettling your equilibrium.

"I won't let you win," you declared, rallying every ounce of courage within.

The stalker's grin widened, a predatory gleam sparking in his eyes. "Oh, but that's what makes it so exhilarating," he whispered, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "The chase, the uncertainty. It's what keeps us alive."

A hard swallow marked the acknowledgment of your grim reality. Trapped within the twisted game he orchestrated, you recognized the stakes were high. Refusing to play the role of a pawn in his deranged scheme, you vowed to escape, regardless of the price.

As the tension simmered between you, the air crackled with an unsettling energy. The stalker's gaze bore into yours, a magnetic pull tainted with danger and an underlying primal essence.

"I won't be a pawn in your sick game," you spat, your voice trembling with a blend of fear and defiance, yet underscored by an undeniable undercurrent of something more.

The stalker's smirk deepened, a trace of amusement flickering in his eyes. "Oh, but my dear, you already are," he purred, his voice low and seductive. "And soon enough, you'll come to relish every twist and turn."

He reached for the blanket and slowly pulled it down, revealing the t-shirt you had worn earlier. The cool breeze in the room caused your nipples to harden. "What are you doing?" you panicked, attempting to move away, but the rope still tightly bound your arms and ankles. "I said behave." Gosh, you wished you could put a name to the face; it had been so long since you'd talked to your contractor that you'd completely forgotten his name.

He removed the blanket completely, walking to the end of your bed where your ankles were tied. You felt a sense of relief when you saw him start untying your ankles. "If you do something stupid, there will be consequences," he finished untying your ankles and kissed your feet softly.

The change in move had you taken by surprise. You didn't know what to expect next, but you were suddenly aware that you were in a very vulnerable position. He planted his hands on your hips and pinned you down on the bed, his strength overwhelming. You were completely at his mercy, and you could feel the heat of his breath on your neck. A shiver ran through your body as you realized how easily he could overpower you if he wanted to.

Your body goes into survival mode, and you fight against his hold with all the strength you can muster. But it's useless. He's too big. Too heavy. Too imposing. He moves to straddle you, pinning your legs between his screams with frustration, attempting to buck him off. He laughs at the attempt, the rich sound of his amusement sending a chill down your spine,” Shh..just relax sweet pea I won't hurt you” he gently brushes some stray hairs out of my face.

"Get off me!" You shouted, kicking your feet up and down, but there was no budge in his position. He grabbed your face forcefully, drawing it closer to his own, and you could smell the mixture of liquor and mint on his breath as he spoke with a threatening tone. "Keep pissing me off, I dare you."

A panic starts to come over you, sweat starts to drip down your hair like a pulsing sensation starts to pulse between your legs, “the stalker whispered with a sickening grin. As he lifted your t-shirt, exposing some of the skin on your stomach, you felt his breath on your ear, and a shiver ran down your spine. Your body was reacting to his touch in a way that filled you with shame.

His rough calloused hands started exploring higher, slowly but surely making their way over your stomach and up towards your chest lifting your t-shirt more and more with each movement. You felt the soft touches against your skin, his fingers slowly tracing up your body, creating a sense of danger and excitement. You were frightened, and your mind went into panic mode. "What's your name? Is it Josh or Jake?" the words came spilling out suddenly as you wanted to distract him from what his hands were doing.

The stalker was caught off guard by your sudden question, and the change in your tone pulled him out of his trance for a moment. He chuckled, as his fingers continued to explore your body. "My name is not Josh or Jake," he whispered. "My name is much more interesting than that." He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin as his fingers continued to trail up toward your chest. He started to knead your breasts softly.

"My name is Joel, and I'm shocked that you don't remember," Joel said with a sadistic smirk. He sat up, allowing your legs to move freely, and you immediately rolled around to cover your exposed skin. It didn't matter whether you got rope burns on your wrists or not, as long as he wasn't able to touch you intimately. Your body was still tingling from his earlier touches, and no matter how much you tried to ignore it, the sensations were still there. 

"Maybe I should make you remember it for next time." Joel's voice had a harsher tone to it as he spoke, and there was a hint of anger in his eyes as he watched you roll around to cover up the exposed skin. Maybe he was angry that you didn't remember him, or maybe he was angry because you seemed to be resisting his advances. The reason didn't matter. What mattered was that he looked pissed.

He walked back over to your ankles and started to tug on your pants making them come off in one swift motion before grabbing one of your legs and lifting it roughly kissing your ankle and lower calf you tried to kick your legs but to no avail, it was like it didn't affect him it was kinda hot, what no? Get it together he's your stalker

You were left helpless in your t-shirt and panties scared and unsure of what to say or do as you're body was betraying your brain my pause in thinking gave him enough time to discard your panties and put them into his jeans pocket…You glanced over him swiftly, taking in his broad, fit physique, which seemed to defy his age. He carried a presence that suggested he might even be older than your father if not the same age. what had felt like 15 seconds had been long enough for him to pin your knees down to your bed

If you tried to buck and get away you would only shove your pussy closer to his face, you had an intense pink blush on your cheeks at the action he was so quick and seamless unlike any male you'd ever been with you stiffen the moonlight barely allows you to see him making you angrier feeling even more exposed to him.

He starts to kiss your upper thigh making you gasp at his actions as he slowly makes his way closer to your mound he teases you knowing that your body is betraying you as your legs shake suddenly the closer he gets to your core. He took his time kissing both your legs and even your lower stomach every so often as he switched. 

“The only sounds I want to hear out of you are praise, my name, or your moans'' he placed a kiss directly onto your clit making you arch your back in pleasure causing your hips to lift off the bed. “You smell and taste like candy” he gripped your hips and roughly brought your hips back down onto the bed “Now stay still and let me enjoy my food” 

Joel didn't hold back he kept his hands on your knees keeping your spread and ready for whatever he wanted to do to you, he didn't hold back in his movements his tongue lapped up every juice your body produced like it was the best thing he'd ever tasted you bite your lip trying not to give him and satisfaction of knowing the pleasure he was giving you. You were grateful your hands were bound if not you weren't sure you could hold off on running and tugging your hands through his hair.

You feel and smell your arousal your body is shaking and you're struggling to stay quiet he knows it and isn't making it any easier as he starts to change his technique he uses his teeth to bite your clit softly allowing his tongue to attack no mercy his movements calculated as he listened to the sweet sounds of your moans started to escape.

He pulled away making you whimper before changing the position he sat on her knees before pulling your ass off the bed and pushing your legs so they were at the side of your head he spit on your pussy before using his hand to spread the spit around your pussy making the surface even wetter. “You're not behaving you're holding back” he pauses and puts two fingers into your pussy pumping in and out slowly making your eyes roll to the back of your head and moan softly…fucking heaven. “See how much better it feels when you don't hold anything in?” he taunted you as he began to curl his fingers hitting that one spot that made you see stars.

You moaned feeling on edge you tugged on the ropes holding your hands hostage you wanted to touch him so badly. He began to bite on your clit just enough to give you pleasure but not enough to hurt. He brought the hand that wasn't fingering you so deep you were seeing stars up to your breasts moving your stupid t-shirt out the way to pinch and kneed the smooth skin.

You couldn't take it anymore. Your orgasm was coming faster than ever your moans were not contained. You were grateful for the seclusion of the woods that surround your house. It probably sounded like a murder was taking place with how loud your moans were getting.

Joel knew you were close as well. He stopped kneading your breast and used his free hand to hold one of your legs down as they began to shake rapidly, he added another finger and made his motions faster. You couldn't take it anymore you screamed out “OH GOD JOEL!!!” you started to shake as he continued to finger you and hold your legs open he moved away from your pussy to get more leverage to hold down your shaking body “JOEL…stop.., it's too much” you gasped and started to cry at the overstimulation he was giving you. 

Then he finally let go, letting your legs down. Your vision was blurry from your tears. Joel stood up at the end of your bed. The sun was beginning to rise, giving you a better look at him. God, he was just as hot as the first day you met him. “I hope you don't think we're done so soon?” he joked you were shocked for a man his age he's lasting longer than you thought possible, the started to undress himself revealing his chest he was even broader without a shirt he had a small belly but bellow it was a large raging cock it had to be as thick as a soda can and longer than any dick you'd seen in real life it was majestic .” cat got your tongue?” he climbed on top of you and met your lips with a sloppy kiss.

You both began to make out like horny teenagers. You could taste your arousal on his tongue. He ran his hands through your hair and down your body he pulled back for a second before ripping your t-shirt in half “Hey!” you protested, “it kept getting in the way of what I wanted” he started to kiss down your neck leaving bruises as he moved along your neck and collar bone. You groaned in frustration as you couldn't touch him, your wrists were becoming raw and red with pain. He noticed and kissed your wrists but didn't untie them, making you squirm to try and loosen the ropes. Joel grabbed your face roughly "When you misbehave, you don't always get what you want," Joel said, using a more stern tone. "Now be good and stop squirming around like a child who didn't get what they wanted." he let go of your face and started to stroke his cock.

He put his hand in front of your mouth “Spit” You spit into his hand and watched as he used your spit as lube for him to stroke his dick, he spread your legs open again he pushed your knees back close to your head but not far enough for your ass to be off the bed but enough to give him a good view of your pussy glistening in the morning light.

He rubbed the head of his cock up and down your folds causing you to gasp nervously for what was to come, he slowly started to insert his dick into you screaming at him and moved your hips away as he tried to insert the tip “Ah!” you kick at him “stop it doesn't fit” you plead with him for him to stop or maybe stretch you more. “Aww poor baby never had a real cock have you” he inserted the tip of his dick filling causing you to arch your back slightly you rapidly shake your head no to answer his questions “Words” his voice sounds cold and dominant as he pulls you by your hips onto his dick

It's so deep you feel it in your throat you can't help but moan out at the feeling so painful but so pleasurable “Now…” he pulls out almost completely before slamming back in “Have you never been with a real man like me?” He continues to apply slow deep thrusts as he talks to you making your eyes roll to the back of your head “god I can barely fit” he eggs you on as he begins to use his thumb to rub your clit adding just enough pressure to have you moaning out for more.

“Please…more I want more” you beg as your hips start to meet his thrusts. He begins to pump into you faster grabbing onto your hips and roughly digging your hips into the mattress as he thrusts harder and faster into you the pain has completely faded and all you feel is pure euphoria as he fucks you.

You haven't been able to stop moaning and you quickly get embarrassed as a loud shriek leaves your mouth as he hits that spot again you'd never had anyone fuck you like this you don't feel pleasure for a moment he's made you feel good over and over listened to your body and understood how a women's pleasure works. “Joel…please” You didn't Even know what you were begging for, you just longed for more for anything he was willing to give you.

“Do you wanna cum?” he taunts biting your shoulder as he continued thrusting into you, you were lying if you said you didn't want to come you wanted so too so bad and he knew it he was experienced he could tell by the way your pussy was pulsing, your breath became sloppy, the way your toes curled he knew he just wanted you to say it. “Answer me or I won't let you cum at all” he growled, applying pressure to your clit using his thumb “Yes yes god yes please make me cum” Your back arched and you moved your body into him as much as you could.

You're juices dripped down your thighs a set of continuous moans fall out your mouth “You're gonna cum with me sweet pea fill you with all my baby’s” he groans and pulls your thighs into his arms so your legs are flat against his chest allowing you to feel him in your spine the sound of the bed squeaking fills the room as his thrusts became more erratic “ready?” he groans deeply and rubs your clit faster and faster until your vision suddenly went fuzzy as your orgasm washed over one another. You felt his sticky cum flood into your pussy. The feeling was so warm it felt like it would never stop cumming thank god for IUDs. 

Joel didn't let go of your legs, instead, he pushed into you making sure as much of his cum as possible would stay inside of you, he leaned down into you making your legs right next to your ears he leaned in for a passionate kiss before pulling out of you.

A dead silence reigned over the room the morning sun shined through your bedroom window as the smell of sex overwhelmed your senses, after a few moments Joel undid the rope that had your hands tied to the headboard your wrists were red and bruised from rubbing against the rope so hard, Joel put his clothes back on as you lay in bed staring at the ceiling finally releasing what you just did you fucked your stalker and liked it?

Your thoughts raced as Joel came back into view, the last person you wanted to see at that moment. "My real number..." he muttered, tossing a business card in your direction. You glanced over the card.

‘Miller Brothers Contracting and Co….’

He hesitated at your bedroom door before exiting the room entirely.

[ghostxrose]

Dance With a Demon | Bakugo Katsuki x Reader

Summary ~ You thought it would be just another night at work until your eyes met the crimson ones of Pro Hero Dynamight..

Tags/Warnings ~ Minors DNI, NSFW 18+ Content, Charaters are in their 20s, FemStripper!Reader, P in V, unprotected sex, porn with some plot, oral sex, face riding, multiple orgasms, creampie, WC 9k, idk what else to tag

Note ~ Hello Lovelies! I hope you all enjoy this spicy lil fic i've got for ya here! I'm still not all that good at writing smut stuff so don't expect too much of me, haha. I do want to give a quick thank you for all of the hype I got for this fic from my Sneak Peek post, so thank you Lovelies! Anyway, I'll let all you fiends get to reading! <3

You let out a heavy sigh as you stare at the back door to the nightclub you work at from the driver’s seat of your car. You weigh the pros and cons of going inside and clocking in for your shift while you sip on your first Red Bull of the night. It’s not that you hate your job or your coworkers, it’s just that feeling that everyone gets before walking into work. That feeling of “ugh, I wanna go back home and be lazy” that settles over you until you shove it away and force yourself to get out of your car. With your bag slung lazily over one shoulder you lock your car, then head for the door that you’ve been dead-eyeing on and off for the last 30-ish minutes.

Once inside the nightclub, you make your way to your dressing room. The bass from whatever song whoever is on stage right now has chosen thumps through your eardrums and chest. You absentmindedly nod your head to the beat as you enter your dressing room. You close the door behind you and lock it, then walk over to the vanity. Setting your bag down, you grab the tablet sitting at the corner of the vanity countertop from its charging port and sit down. You log into the nightclub’s app and clock in before clicking the “songs” tab within the app.

Once it loads up you scroll through the list of suggested songs but none of them really call out to you or feel right for the vibe you create when you get on stage. You tap the search function then get to typing and looking up songs to add to your list for your sets tonight. As soon as you’ve lined up a pretty nice selection of six songs you submit the list, then shut the tablet off and begin prepping yourself for your first set.

You touch up your makeup and loosely curl your hair. After laying out both outfits you brought for tonight, you decide to flip a coin to see which one you should wear first. Heads is for the lacy dark purple bra and thong set with a pair of black open-toed stilettos - simple but still a favorite amongst crowds. Tails is for the slightly more intricately designed deep wine colored bralette and g-string set with dark red cross strap, heeled sandals - another crowd favorite because of the way it’s slightly more.. sheer as far as materials go.

You toss the coin into the air with a small but knowing smirk because you know that it really doesn’t matter what outfit you wear. What people really show up for are the feelings of dark attraction that the physical traits of your Quirk stirs up inside them. Attraction that makes them feel as if it’s taboo or maybe even dangerous to tamper with, but they enjoy the thrill either way.

Your Quirk is called Hellspawn, but you’ve never viewed it in a negative light. Your Quirk is the product of generations of similar Quirks possessed by both sides of your family. You’ve been taught your whole life to be proud of your Quirk and its traits, no matter what people might say or think. You confidently show off your demon-like horns, wings, fangs, and tail every day.

The coin lands on heads so you put on the dark purple outfit and stilettos, taking your time to make sure everything goes on just right. With one final glance in the full length mirror in your dressing room you smile at your reflection, then turn to leave and head backstage. As you walk through the back hallways of the nightclub you begin to feel excitement and adrenaline thrum through your veins. Just because this is a job doesn’t mean that you don’t have fun when you’re up on stage.

“There’s my girl! How’re ya doin’ tonight, Luci?” Sakura, the nightclub’s manager and owner, cheerfully greets you when you get backstage.

“Ask me that after my set,” you say jokingly. “Better yet, when you see me raking in tons of bills just assume that I’m feeling pretty good!” You add on with a smirk.

“Mmm, always love your confidence, Babes! Alright, now get out there and kill it like you always do!” Sakura says with a wink, then focuses back on whatever she was working on her tablet.

You smile to yourself, amped up by the vibes within the club and your rising confidence, and begin stretching to warm your muscles up for your first set of the night. More adrenaline, and the caffeine from your energy drink, hits your veins when you hear the ending of the last song for whoever is on stage and you wait for your stage name to be called.

“Alright everyone, can I get a round of cheers for our lovely Siren?! Don’t worry, they’ll be back a little later!!” Hikari, tonight’s DJ, says after hopping on the mic.

“You all are in for a real treat now, though! Please help me in summoning our resident hot demon-babe to the stage; Lucifer!!” A wild smile pulls at your lips as you take in the crowds hyped up cheers from the other side of the curtain. “Get your sexy ass out here, Luci!!” Hikari excitedly calls for you and you let out a giggle before taking a step forward.

Pulling back the curtain you slowly walk further onto the stage, emerging from a cloud of smoke and into the dark-neon lights shining onto the stage. You smile and wink over at Hikari in the DJ’s booth and she blows you a kiss making you giggle a bit. Looking back towards the crowd you sway your hips as you walk, your eyes half lidded and a sultry, fanged smile on your face. Your body getting into the flow of the music from the first song of this set. The bass produced from Obsolete Ritual makes you vibrate when it hits and it’s a rush that fuels the amped up fire within you that you’ll never get over.

Getting up to the pole at the end of the catwalk, you wrap your hands around it and walk in a slow, teasing circle despite the song’s tempo having sped up. Your eyes scan over the crowd, running across the familiar faces of regulars and lingering for mere seconds over new faces. For reasons unbeknownst to you, your gaze gets stuck on one new face in particular.

Sharp, crimson eyes connect with yours, the stranger’s handsome face set in a scowl. ‘The hell is he scowling in a stripclub for? If he didn’t want to be here, then why did he come? Or maybe he’s just mad that Siren’s set ended? Whatever, buddy, try to enjoy the show.’ You think to yourself as you pull your gaze from Grumpy Hot Guy and officially begin your routine.

As you bend, twist, and dance your way through Obsolete Ritual, Veins, and Descending you find that Grumpy Hot Guy’s eyes never seem to leave you. His scowl remained but his eyes seemed to burn more with every movement of your body. When you finish your set you have to force yourself not to look at him as you spread your wings and bow to the crowd.

The weight of his eyes on you grows heavy as you help the club’s “Money Grabbers” rake in your earnings. Purposefully ignoring him you smile, giggle, and thank customers as they stuff more bills into your lingerie as you work to grab cash from the floor of the stage. You move to head offstage once all of the money has been gathered when you’re stopped by a tug on your tail. You let out a yelp, then quickly turn around to hiss at whoever the perv is that committed the action. A security guard is already handling the guy but he still has the nerve to shoot you an unsettling and creepy smirk. You hiss anyway, then roll your eyes as you stand and quickly leave the stage.

“Christ, are you okay, Luci?? Fucking hate pervs like that bastard! He’s being thrown out as we speak, so don’t worry! How’s your tail??” Sakura frantically asks, immediately mother-henning you as soon as you’re backstage.

You let out a soft giggle and give her an appreciative smile, “I’m fine and so is my tail, but thank you. Handsy people are very annoying but I can handle it and I’m fine.” You say reassuringly and Sakura lets out a relieved breath, then looks you in the eye with a smirk.

“Ugh, what’s with the look, Sakura? Did I really make that much from the set?” You question with a slightly bored look.

“Way off base with the guess there, Babes! Seems like we may have a few heroes in the house tonight, literally! I was watching the cameras when that creep grabbed your tail and I saw a few customers try to get to you, one in particular seemed especially pissed. Any guesses as to who they could be before I tell you?!” Sakura explains with a playful glint in her eyes.

“You know I hate guessing games,” you say in a forced bored tone that hopefully masks your itching curiosity.

“Oh, you’re no fun sometimes, Luci! Anyways, Pro Heroes Cellophane, Chargebolt, Pinky, Red Riot, and Dynamight were rushing to be your knights in shining armor! How crazy and exciting is it that a few Top Ten Pros are here at my nightclub?! Wild, right?!” Sakura reveals and you mentally kick yourself for not piecing together that Grumpy Hot Guy with the crimson eyes and spiky blonde hair is Pro Hero Dynamight.

“Uh, yeah, that is pretty crazy.. Uhm, I’m gonna go clean up and get ready for my next set, see you back here in an hour.” You say in a slight daze, the shock from Dynamight not being able to keep his eyes off of you clouding your mind.

“Mhm, gonna go make yourself extra pretty for the Pros, huh?” Sakura says with a devilish smirk.

“Sakura, please, I’m hot enough as it is. If I got any prettier customers would start dropping dead.” You say matter-of-factly after you’ve turned to walk away, hoping that Sakura didn’t see your blush. Sakura bursts out laughing behind you telling you to not kill her sources of income. You wave a playfully dismissive hand in the air before disappearing down the hallway back to your dressing room.

Once you’ve locked your dressing room door you let out a long exhale. You had run into a few of your coworkers on your way back to your dressing room and had to reassure every one of them that you were okay. But not only that, you were reminded again and again that there are Pros out in the crowd tonight via your coworkers gushing over their favorites within the group that came. Apparently a couple of your coworkers are major Dynamight fans and you tried your best to keep your cool when they wouldn’t shut up about how hot he is.

Even now, sitting at your vanity touching up your hair and makeup, you swear that you can still feel his burning gaze on you. Thinking about every time you made eye contact with him during your first set stirs something up inside of you and your reflection shows the blush you can feel heating your cheeks. As you change into your second outfit of the night you can’t tell if you’re nervous or hyped to get back on stage.

As soon as the straps of your heels are tied you make your way towards the mini fridge in your room. You grab the small bottle of Grey Goose and a small can of Red Bull from inside the fridge, then a shot glass from the top of the fridge. Sitting back down at your vanity, you pour yourself a shot and crack open your Red Bull. Downing the shot, you give it a second to settle before you pour a second. After shooting the second shot, you put the Grey Goose back and start drinking your Red Bull.

‘Nothing wrong with a bit of liquid courage, right? It’s just to help me through my next set after that creep touched me.’ You reason with (aka lie to) yourself as you look over yourself in the mirror.

A little over five minutes before you are to be called onto stage again, you make your way backstage. The shots you took earlier have succeeded in helping you feel like the confident and powerful Queen of the Underworld that you are. A cat-calling whistle pulls your attention over to Sakura and she gives you a smirk.

“Thought I told you not to kill my customers, Babes! Gah damn, you look hot! Trying to impress some certain Pro Heroes out there?” Sakura exclaims with a shit-eating grin.

You roll your eyes and cross your arms, “Being hot is part of the job, Boss. I don’t need to impress anyone but myself.” You say as you suppress a blush and look at your nails.

“Damn straight, Babes! Preach! Ugh, sometimes I’d really kill for your level of confidence.” Sakura says in all of her dramatic flare.

You giggle and shake your head as you blow her kiss, then turn towards the curtain. You exchange smiles with Siren as they walk through the curtain to head back to their room and wait for your cue.

“Everybody, shh shh, quiet down for a moment,” You hear Hikari say over the club’s speakers and you wonder what she has planned. You stifle an excited giggle and bounce a bit with anticipation.

“Oh, sexy Queen of Darkness, please grace us with your presence!” Hikari half chants, half moans into the mic, and you have to cover your mouth to hold back your giggles.

“Lucifer, hear us and show yourself! We’re on our knees, begging! Get out here you little vixen!” Hikari dramatically cries out and you do your best to not laugh your ass off at her antics.

With smoke clouding the view of the curtain you slip through carefully so you don’t disturb it. Suddenly, you flare your wings out and let your eyes glow, your arms held out to your sides a bit as you slowly walk forward. Spotlights slowly crawl towards you and up your body until you’re illuminated and you flash an “evil” grin at the crowd.

“Oh yeah, baby!!” Hikari dramatically moans out as she starts the first song of this set.

A laugh leaves your mouth and a genuine smile pulls at your lips as you walk to the pole at the end of the catwalk. Each of your steps deliberately heavy so that your breasts and ass bounce to the beat of Hot Demon B!Tches Near U as you walk. You briefly lock eyes with Dynamight and in all of your confidence (liquid and natural) you wink at him before grabbing the pole and getting to dancing.

HDBNU and the second song Slayer are full of fast paced moves and ass shaking, money seemingly raining down like confetti. So caught up in keeping time with the song, you had blurred out the crowd. It wasn’t until the first base drop of your last song, Fill The Void, that you noticed something slightly startling.

You had your back against the pole and slowly slid down it. Your arms stretched above you gripping said pole and your legs spreading as you sank to the ground. Your breathing hitched a bit when your eyes connected with burning crimson, the owner of the eyes standing at the front of the crowd at the edge of the stage. You did your best to hide your surprise but of course Dynamight noticed and he sent you a small smirk.

You smirk back at him, accepting an unspoken challenge of sorts, slowly and sensually standing back up. Wrapping your legs around the pole you do a few tricks before you slowly slide down, feet hitting the floor once more. Swaying and moving your body to the music, you get to the front of the pole where you sink to the floor once again, this time getting on your hands and knees.

You bite your lip seductively and slowly crawl towards the crowd, your tail slowly swishing side to side and your eyes glowing. You stare Dynamight right in the eyes as you crawl and mouth the last few words of the song. You stop about half a foot from the edge of the stage and gently roll onto your back, arching it and sensually running your hands down your body. As the song comes to a close, your eyes glow significantly brighter, you let out a puff of blue-colored fire.

When the song finally ends, you stand up and bow, blowing kisses and smiling at the crowd. You cast one last glance at Dynamight and find that he looks slightly stunned. You smirk, then turn to make your way off of the stage, hips swaying the entire time. Getting backstage, your body feels like it’s on fire in the best way possible and Sakura definitely notices.

“Christ, Luci, I’m gonna have to call every ambulance in Tokyo after that performance! Shit, I think I’m even having heart palpitations! You fucking killed it out there, Babes!” Sakura exclaims, one hand fanning her face and the other on her chest.

“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush!” You say, feigning embarrassment, but ultimately giggling.

“You know who's blushing? Everyone out there who just jizzed their pants!” Sakura says, sending both of you into a laughing fit.

“But for real, great work! Now go grab a snack, get changed, and help out the other servers on the floor, please!” Sakura loosely orders with a bright smile.

“Yes, ma’am!” You say with a mocking salute and smile, then head to your dressing room.

~~~~~~~~~~

Once you’ve changed into the club’s server outfit, aka a top that is basically a bralette paired with what could be the shortest skirt in the world, some cheeky panties underneath, and knee high stiletto boots, you make your way out to the bar.

“There she is; the girl who always makes me regret not bringing an extra pair of underwear!” Ruby, the bartender for the night, playfully exclaims as you walk up to the counter.

“Thought you knew better by now!” You say with a laugh and Ruby rolls their eyes with a smile.

“Alright, Love, here’s a tray of drinks for the group over at VIP table three. I don’t know if Sakura told ya, but the VIP section will be yours tonight.” Ruby says as they carefully slide a serving tray full of drinks towards you.

“C’mon, Rue, of course she didn’t tell me. Do I ever work any other section?” You comment with feigned annoyance and Ruby laughs.

In reality, you love working the VIP section. It’s always full of rich people with too much money to spend and they always tip very generously. It certainly helps that you flirt your ass off whilst serving but everyone does that.

Picking the tray up with the skill and grace you’ve perfected over the years of being in this industry, you send one last smile and wink to Ruby before heading for the VIP section of the lounge. You smile at patrons as you move through the crowd, giggling and thanking them for the compliments they give about your performance. While you truly do love your job, customer service could still be considered a performance and you are flawless at it.. Until you make it past the roped off entrance to the VIP lounge and see the group at table three.

Virtually unnoticeably, your steps falter and you’re thankful that the club's ambience is fairly dim as you take in a steadying breath. Mentally reasserting your confidence, you paint on a cool and flirty smile as you walk over to table three. Your thoughts run through your mind, filling you with the tiniest bit of dread, ‘Of fucking course it’s them.. I mean, they are Pro Heroes, why wouldn’t they be in the VIP lounge.. For fuck sa-’

“Good evening, everyone. My name is Lucifer, or Luci for short, I’ll be one of your servers tonight. I have your drinks here, but let me know if you need anything else.” You say as you set the tray down on the table, your voice coming out impressively even and a bit sultry.

“Yeah, uhm, I’m gunna need your number,” Chargebolt drunkenly slurs out, a dopey smile on his face and hearts practically in his eyes, as he grabs his drink from the tray.

You giggle at his attempt at hitting on you, having to keep from full-on laughing when you notice Dynamight’s jaw clenching out of the corner of your eye. You smile gently at Chargebolt, “Sorry, babes, but I don’t give my number out to strangers.” You say with a sympathetic pout as you try not to join the rest of the group in their laughter.

“I’m not a stranger, I’m Chargebolt aka Denk- OW! Man, c’mon, you don’t gotta hit me!” Chargebolt whines as he pouts at Dynamight while rubbing the back of his head.

“Sorry about him! He hits on anyone who breathes his way! Thanks for the drinks, Luci!” Pinky giggles out over Chargebolt’s whining, said man still on the receiving end of Dynamight’s murderous glare.

“No problem! I’ve got a few other tables to serve but I’ll check back in a little bit!” You say as you pick up the now empty tray and step back from the table.

You hear the rest of the group thank you as you walk away, Dynamight’s grumbled and gravelly ‘thanks’ sending a wave of heat through your body. ‘It should be illegal for someone’s one-worded, grumbled response to sound so sexy, what the fuck?!’ You mentally curse as you walk up to one of the other tables.

The hours fly by quickly as you wait on each of your tables. Every stop at the Pros’ table met with flirty quips from the group, minus Dynamight. In fact, he hasn’t even looked at you the whole time you’ve been off-stage. You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t just a little disappointed, but you shove it down to keep your sultry and flirty persona up. You flirtatiously thank the group at VIP table five as you stick the wad of bills that is your tip from them into your bralette and blow them a kiss as you walk towards the bar.

“Hey Ruby, you got the time?” You ask, exhaustion leaking into your tone.

“A little past one. You’re off at 15, right?” Ruby asks as they wipe off a glass. You nod, relief settling over you as well as exhaustion. It was a good shift but you are so ready to go home.

“This tray is for three, right? I’ll take it to them before I head back to my room.” You say, picking the tray up with a bit of a huff.

“Don’t act like you’re doing any favors for anyone, you just wanna see the Pros one last time before you leave.” Ruby teases with a smirk and you feign offense.

“Or I just want to reem them for tips, but go off I guess.” You playfully bite back, then giggle as Ruby raises an eyebrow at you.

Despite your exhaustion setting in more with each minute passing, you quickly make your way to the table of Pros. Pouring the last of your energy into your customer service persona, you set the tray of drinks down on the table and smile at the group.

“Hey Heroes, it has been an extreme pleasure serving and meeting all of you but it is now the end of my shift. One of our other servers will take over for me, I hope that you all enjoy the rest of your night!” The well-rehearsed spiel leaves your mouth with a pleasant tone and warm smile.

“I know I’ll be back if only to watch you dance again,” Pinky says with a flirty smile and wink that makes you giggle.

“Thanks for being so amazing!” Red Riot says with a bright smile as he hands you a fat wad of cash. You feign surprise as you take the cash and thank them all as you shove it in what little space you have left in your bralette. You spare one last glance at Dynamight and suppress a frown when you catch him looking very intently at his phone. You say your goodbyes, then rush to drop the empty tray off at the bar before heading back to your dressing room.

Changing back into the sweatpants and sweater that you arrived to work in, you feel the bone-deep heaviness that comes with being tired. You throw your hair up into a messy bun and slip your shoes on, then clock out from the tablet in your room. Slipping your bag onto your shoulder you leave your room and head for Sakura’s office to pick up your earnings from the night.

“Hey Boss, I’m outta here,” You announce from the doorway of her office.

“Alrighty, Babes! Here’s your check, you made pretty good bank tonight! Might be a little more than usual, awesome job!” Sakura beams as she hands you the envelope with your check in it.

Taking the envelope and putting it into your bag, you smile tiredly at her, “Thanks, Sakura. See ya later.”

“You want an escort to your car? I can call one of the bouncers back.” Sakura offers like she always does.

“Nah, I’m good. You already know that I’m the scary creature that lurks in the shadows.” You joke as you activate your Quirk a bit causing your eyes to glow while you shoot her a fanged smile. She laughs at your antics then bids you goodnight and you begin your walk to the back door of the club.

You step out into the chilly night air and are nearly blinded by a set of headlights coming from a car parked in the spot right in front of the door. You put your hand up to shield your eyes from the bright ass headlights and try to see who may be in the car. Suddenly the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and an anxious chill shivers down your spine. From your peripherals you see a hand reaching toward you and you try to move out of the person’s reach. Unfortunately, you’re a tad too late and they are able to grab your wrist and pull you towards them. You come face to face with the creep from earlier and your stomach drops as fear begins to course through you.

“Finally, some alone time with the demon-whore herself. Ya know, I’m a real big fan of yers. Wha’ do ya say we go back to my place and commit some sins, baby?” The creep-ass perv drawls out with a sick smile and your fear quickly turns to anger.

“Fuck off, you corny-ass pervert!” You growl out and you jerk your wrist up to your face, letting out a small breath of blue flames aimed towards the creep’s arm.

“Fucking bitch!” The degenerate of a man roars out as he yanks his hand away, continuing to curse from the pain.

You take the opportunity to whirl around and rush back into the club, locking the back door behind you once you’re inside. The door begins rattling from heavy banging against it and you can hear muffled shouts coming through from the man. You stand there shaking and trying to think of what to do now when you hear the footsteps of someone running towards you. Squinting through the dim lighting you nearly cry at the sight of Sakura and Pinky.

“Are you alright?” Pinky asks, her years of being a Pro making her voice come out steady even though she just ran here, and you nod shakily.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Luci! I should have checked the cams before sending you off! Fuck, I’m so stupid!” Sakura cries into your shoulder after pulling you into a tight hug.

“It’s not your fault, Sakura, it’s okay.” You whisper, your voice coming out strained as you try not to cry, and hug her back.

The three of you jump at the sound of an explosion coming from outside the door, and Pinky pushes you both behind her. You all stand there quietly for a few moments until Pinky’s phone goes off. She answers it quickly and you’re only able to catch her end of the call, “Yeah... She’s fine... Ugh, gross, what a bastard… Okay, thanks Red!” She finishes, then hangs up and turns around to you and Sakura.

“Are you sure that you’re okay? You don’t need to be checked out by a doctor or anything?” Pinky questions as her eyes roam over your form to visibly check for any injuries whatsoever.

“No, no, I’m okay. I just want to go home.” You quietly assure the two; Pinky cautiously believes you but Sakura is still suspicious that you’re hiding any sort of pain. A loud bang on the door makes both you and Sakura jump while Pinky just lets out a sigh.

“Unlock the door, dammit!” A voice shouts from the other side of the door and Pinky takes it upon herself to fulfill the demand.

The door swings open to reveal Dynamight, the dim lights from inside the club and the street lamps from outside the only things illuminating his figure. You can still tell that his face is scrunched up into something angry even with the poor lighting if the way he is grumbling about the “fucking creepy pervert” is anything to go by.

“Good job taking down that creep, Blasty!” Pinky cheers with a smile and a thumbs up.

“Shuddup,” Dynamight says with annoyance laced in his tone, but Pinky just laughs it off as she walks past him.

“Miss Sakura, if you could come with me? The police may want to see the security footage or get a statement from you.” Pinky says from her paused position in the doorway.

“Of course! Text me when you get home, Luci! I mean it, like, as soon as you pull into your driveway!” Sakura demands with a stern look on her face as she moves to catch up with Pinky.

“I will,” You promise with a small smile and send her a wave as she leaves.

A few moments of silence pass as you and Dynamight just stand there, an air of awkwardness beginning to settle in before you speak up, “Thanks for.. arresting that guy.” You say quietly, looking at him with a small smile.

“The guy had a pretty bad burn on his arm when we showed up.. Any idea where it might have come from?” Dynamight asks in a low and even tone, his sharp crimson eyes looking into yours.

Your smile drops and panic churns at your stomach, “I-I.. it was self defense! I-I didn’t know what else to do, h-he wouldn’t let go of me!” You fearfully begin defending yourself, only just now realizing that you used your Quirk unlicensed to harm somebody. Your heart begins to race and your breaths start to stutter, mind racing over the fact that you broke the law.

“Calm down, I was just curious. As far as the cops are concerned they think I did it, so you’re in the clear. Even if they do find out it was you, it’s legal if it’s in self defen- Jesus christ, take a deep breath, it’s okay!” Dynamight’s voice raises a bit when he notices you beginning to hyperventilate.

You turn away from him and make your way towards the wall, leaning against it to steady yourself. You close your eyes and take some deep breaths in hopes of calming down. After a minute, you open your eyes and look at anything except the hero in front of you when you turn back around.

“I’d like to go home now, if that’s okay? Or do I need to speak to the police?” You meekly ask as you adjust the strap of your bag on your shoulder.

“I’ll tell them that you’ll go down to the station tomorrow. The security cam footage should suffice for tonight.” He says and you can feel the weight of his gaze on you as you nod your head.

“Well, thanks again.. Goodnight, Dynamight.” You mumble as you move toward the door to leave.

“I’ll follow behind you.. to make sure you get home safe.” You hear Dynamight’s rushed and raspy words from behind you making you stop in your tracks.

“That’s not necessary, really.. Should you even be driving? You’ve been drinking all night..” You ramble out after you turn around to face him, your heart thundering in your chest when you find that he’s right there. 

“I only had a couple drinks, plus I’m not weak like Dunc- Chargebolt, I can handle my fucking liquor. I’m gunna go get my car, do not leave this parking lot until I get back here.” Dynamight firmly demands before rushing off toward the front of the building.

You stand there dumbfounded for a moment before you shake yourself out of it and make your way to your car. You get in, hitting the lock button as soon as your door closes, and start it up. You spend a few minutes queuing up songs until you hear a honk from next to you. Nearly pissing yourself, you send a glare to Dynamight for scaring you but he just rolls his eyes and motions for you to go.

With a little bit of hesitancy in your gut, you back out of your parking space and begin your drive home. Looking at the routes on a map, it’s not a very far drive, but traffic always turns short trips into longer ones. Periodic glances at your rear view mirror tells you that you’re not the only one annoyed with the traffic. A small giggle leaves your lips every time you see Dynamight puff his cheeks with a huff or yell at some dick speeding past the both of you.

Finally, you arrive at your house, clicking the button on the gate opener and waiting for it to open fully before pulling up into the drive. Dynamight follows right behind you, pulling up next to you but just sitting in his car. You wonder if he’s going to watch you walk into your house then you wonder why he’s doing this at all. ‘There’s no way the Dynamight does this with even half of the victims he helps rescue..’ You think to yourself as you pull out your phone and tap the call function on Sakura’s contact.

The conversation is short and as soon as you hang up you turn your car off and gather your stuff, then get out. You barely register that Dynamight has gotten out of his car before he’s walking toward you. You look between him and his off car with a confused expression on your face.

“You gunna close the ga-” Dynamight starts but cuts himself off when he sees that the gate to your driveway has automatically started closing, the allotted time you have it set to stay open if you don’t close it yourself having run out.

“I didn’t realize you’d even be getting out of your car..” You comment quietly, and albeit nervously, as you make your way to your front door.

Silently, you take your keys out of your bag, placing the magnetic fob on its spot just above the doorknob. The lock makes a small beep and the keypad above the spot for the fob lights up. You sneak a glance behind you to see if Dynamight is looking but his back is to you as he seemingly surveys the driveway. You quickly type in the code for the lock and a chime rings through the air as the door unlocks. You push the door open a bit before turning around to Dynamight, unsure of what to do or say.

“Uhm, so-”

“Are you sure that you’re alright?” He cuts you off with his question as he turns to face you and his eyes scan over your body as you blink up at him.

“I- yeah, I’m fine..” You say, a little bit shocked by his behavior, and he just nods his head as he stuffs his hands into his pockets. 

A moment of silence fills the air between you two before you blurt out, “Why did you do this? Made sure I got home safe, I mean. You.. you barely even acknowledged me after my performance at the club, and it’s a pretty well-known fact that Dynamight doesn’t really follow up with those that he rescues, let alone escorts them home..”

Dynamight’s jaw clenches and irritation fills his handsome features, and you have to remind your body that right now is not a good time to be getting aroused. His eyes meet yours and promptly melt you with their heat, whether it’s from irritation or something else you don’t know.

“Because, dammit..” He starts, dragging a hand through his hair and letting out an exasperated sigh, his eyes flicking to the ground and glaring at the cement.

“Strip joints aren’t my thing. They’re too fucking loud, there’s too many damn people, and I’ve never had any interest in watching people twirl around on a pole.” He continues, but gets interrupted by the scoff you defensively let out.

But he continues on before letting you get a word out, “But it was stupid Pinky’s birthday and that’s what she wanted to do, so I was dragged into going. I sat at that damn table hating every second until.. Until you got onto that fucking stage. And I know, I know, you probably hear this shit all the fucking time but dammit there was just something about you. I couldn’t tear my damn eyes away from you.”

You’re not sure when it happened but suddenly he is so close to you, crimson eyes sending a blazing heat through your body. Your breath hitches when you catch a whiff of his cologne and your panties are starting to feel much more damp.

“There’s some sort of lust factor to your Quirk, right? There has to be because I never feel like this towards anyone right off the bat,” He rasps out, his voice quieter than before and husky.

“Feel like what?” You whisper, playing the dumb-innocence card heavily as you stare into his eyes.

“Like I wanna fuck you until you’re nothing but a drooling mess cumming on my cock,” He rasps out huskily, his face mere centimeters from yours.

You can’t take it anymore, something in you just snaps and you’re smashing your lips onto his. Your moan mingles with his groan as your arms wind their way around his neck. His hands quickly find purchase on your hips and his fingers dig into the fabric of your sweats as he pulls your body impossibly closer to his. The kiss, if one could call it that, is aggressive with sharp canines nipping each others’ lips and tongues fighting for dominance.

In the midst of your devouring of each other, he backs you into your house, kicking the door shut behind him. You absentmindedly hear the chime of your door locking itself over the rush of blood in your ears and Dynamight’s groans. Your bag ends up crashing to the floor and you both somehow manage to haphazardly kick your shoes off.

You both stumble down the hallway as you lead him to your bedroom, pieces of clothing almost literally torn from each other’s bodies littering the floor as you go. By the time you fall back onto your bed, you’re both in nothing but your underwear. Dynamight stands at the edge of your bed seemingly entranced as you drag your hands along your body up to the front clasp of your bra. You slowly and sensually unclip the bra, making a show out of taking it off even though the Hero’s focus is solely on your tits.

His eyes then meet yours and his tongue darts out to wet his lips, “Are you sure you wanna do this?” He asks, his voice rough with lust but you hear the slight hesitance.

“I kissed you, didn’t I? Listen, I know I’m a stripper but I don’t usually fuck the patrons, I simply have no interest in it. I want this, I need this, and I’m clean if that makes you feel better. Plus, I’m on birth control, so please Dyn-”

“Katsuki. If we’re gunna fuck then you at least get to call me by my fucking name.” He bites out with fake annoyance, rolling his eyes as he shoves his underwear off.

You smirk up at him, toying with your breasts and moaning his name, just to test it out on your tongue and goddamn is it delicious. His eyes darken yet seem to glow at the same time like a whole new level of lust flowed over him, and you give him your real name.

“So, Katsuki, are you gunna fuck me til I’m a drooling mess cumming on your cock or am I gunna have to call Charg- shit, ahh, fuck-” You try to taunt him but are quickly cut off when Katsuki is suddenly on you, mouthing at one of your breasts while his hand kneads and squeezes the other.

He grinds his hard cock on your clothed pussy, right on your clit, the friction of it all making you pant and moan underneath him. Your hands sink into his hair, your claws scratching against his scalp and pulling more groans from him. He gives both your breasts equal attention, biting and sucking and leaving hickies in the wakes of his lips. His kisses begin to travel down your body until his hot mouth is sucking and licking over your already soaked panties.

It’s a slow kind of torture when he finally decides to drag your panties down your legs and off of your body. Needy whines and breathy begs leave your mouth as he uses one hand to slowly drag your panties down your legs while the thumb of his other hand rubs torturously slow circles into your clit.

“Fuck, you’re soaked.. You that needy for my cock, baby?” He husks out as he settles on his stomach between your legs.

“Y-yes, ah, been wet since, fuck, since my second s-set when, a-ah, wh-when y-you were by th-the stage,” You barely manage to get out between the slow stripes he’s licking up your pussy.

He sends you a cocky smirk before fully diving into your wetness and one of your hands flies to his hair while the other grips the sheets. He drinks you up like a man dying of thirst; going from sucking your clit and flicking his tongue against it to dipping lower and slipping his tongue in and out of your slit. Every ministration pushes you closer to that edge and you can’t stop your body from squirming as moans fall from your lips.

An idea manages to slip into your pleasure-addled mind and you pull at his hair to get his attention. This only results in what could only be described as a growl leaving his mouth and vibrating against your clit, nearly sending you. You fight off your impending orgasm as much as you can manage and try to use your words instead, “K-Katsuki, w-wait! I-I wa-wanna ride your face!” That gets his attention immediately, making him pause mid-lick to lean back a bit and give you a wild smirk.

“Fuck yeah, baby,” His lust-laced voice carries through the room as he shuffles around to get into position.

Once he’s comfortable, his lust-darkened and excited eyes catch yours, a devilish smirk sitting on his lips. You send him your own fanged smirk and carefully climb over his body, the shuffling of limbs resulting in your body facing your headboard as your pussy hovers over his mouth. His hands come up to grip your thighs as you slowly seat yourself onto his hot and waiting mouth. A half moan, half gasp leaves your lips when Katsuki immediately gets back to devouring you and one of your hands buries itself in his hair.

You let yourself drown beneath the waves of pleasure for a moment or two before forcing some clarity into your mind. You smirk down at him and his ministrations falter a bit as you trail the tip of your tail down his torso. He questions your action with his eyes until they widen a bit out of surprise as your tail slowly gets increasingly closer to his cock. His groan vibrates against your clit as you wrap your tail around him and his eyes flutter a bit.

You start jerking his cock slowly, your hips moving in sync, and both of your moans start filling the room. Katsuki becomes more aggressive with his licking and sucking, his tongue delving into you every now and then as you grind against him.

“Hah.. ah.. I-I’m g-gunna f-fucking.. cum..” You pant out between moans, your grip on his hair tightening as the overwhelming sensation of your orgasm begins flooding you once again.

“Fucking hell.. Cum, then, baby. Cum on my fucking tongue.” Katsuki’s muffled command is followed by another groaned out curse, his hips bucking a bit off the bed as you continue to jerk him.

“Aah, Katsuki,” His name comes out as a high-pitched moan as your orgasm hits you. Your pussy clenches around his tongue as you double over, your free hand sinking into the mattress next to his head. He tongue-fucks you through it as your eyes squeeze shut and your nails scrape against his scalp. In your bliss, you hear and feel him let out something between a groan and growl, and you’re not sure if it’s from pain or pleasure.

He continues swiping his tongue against your pussy as whines from overstimulation leave your mouth. Something more begins building in your abdomen and you forcefully lift your hips from his face to keep from potentially drowning the man beneath you.

You're both panting as you stare at each other with the same look of feral lust in your eyes. The moonlight shining in from your window making it look like his eyes are glowing and you feel just a bit envious over how fucking effortlessly attractive this man is. A playful smirk pulls at your lips when you squeeze your tail around his cock and he lets out an unintentional moan. Suddenly, in a blur of motions, you’re flipped onto your back with Katsuki hovering over you, his lips still shiny with your cum.

“Ya know, teasing isn’t nice.” Katsuki comments huskily with a smirk as he grinds his cock against your wet pussy, his tip catching your clit with every stroke.

In an instant his lips are on yours, swallowing your whines and moans. He holds himself up with one arm while the other leaves its position from beside your head. His now free hand runs down your body until he gets to your pussy. His fingers rub at your clit a bit before moving further down where he slips a finger into you. Your moans go up in volume as one finger becomes two and his lips suck hickies into the column of your throat. Your body begins to writhe a bit as his fingers brush over your g-spot and his teeth nip at your hot skin.

Soon enough two fingers turn into three and the tsunami-size waves of your next orgasm crash against the poorly built dam you’ve built. All the while, Katsuki just swallows all of begging and pleading for him to just put his cock in you already. His hot, hard cock that is currently weeping pre-cum all over your thigh.

“I-I think I l-learned my lesson ‘bout teasing, Ka-Katsuki! Oh fuck.. J-just put it in!” You demand when his mouth goes back to sucking more marks into your shoulder.

“Demanding little slut, flip the fuck over.” Katsuki commands after he pulls his fingers from your pussy.

You flip yourself onto your stomach, ass up in the air and tail swishing sensually slowly behind you. You look back at him with a smirk that quickly falters when you meet his gaze dead-on as he licks your cum from his fingers. A cocky smirk pulls at his lips when he finishes and uses that same hand to smack one of your asscheeks making you cry out. Pain and pleasure tingle up your spine and your pussy continues to leak.

“Yeah, kinda figured you were a pain slut by now. Only fitting for someone with a demon Quirk, huh?” Katsuki husks out following another smack to your ass.

Finally, without any further commentation, the fat head of his cock nudges its way between your pussy lips. He enters you slowly, groaning as you pant through the welcomed invasion of every inch of him. When his hips finally meet your asscheeks you understand why he had taken his time fingering you. Of course, you had noticed that his cock is big but you weren’t quite prepared to feel this full. There isn’t a single complaint that runs through your pleasure-melted brain, though. Only praises intermingled with moans fall from your mouth when he gives an experimental thrust.

“Shit, you’re so fuckin’ tight.” Katsuki grits out as he sets a steady pace, moving in and out of you while his hands grip your hips.

“So.. fuckin’.. good.. s-so.. full..” You moan out as you push yourself back on his cock, absentmindedly wrapping your tail around one of his wrists.

The room becomes hot and stuffy, the smell of sex and Katsuki’s cologne on every breath you breathe in. Your eyes are half-lidded, wanting to roll back, and your mouth hangs open as Katsuki begins drilling into you. You nearly cum from the sight of him throwing his head back and groaning at how your pussy squelches and clenches around him.

His cock hits your g-spot over and over, making that overwhelming feeling inside you unbearable. You don’t get anything other than a high-pitched moan out of your mouth as your second orgasm crashes into you. Your eyes roll back as you squirt all over Katsuki’s cock and pelvis. You become a babbling, drooling mess as he fucks your through your orgasm, his pace somehow getting faster. His exhales become grunts and growls as he pounds into you, his hands now gripping you so tightly that you nearly cum again thinking about the bruises they’ll leave.

“Fuck, I’m gunna fucking cum!” Katsuki groans out, his thrusts beginning to falter slightly.

“Ah, please cum, a-ah, pleasepleaseplease,” You mindlessly beg as you cum on his cock again.

“Sh-shit.. I-I.. fuuuuck,” He stutters out as he thrust hard into you one last time before stilling. You moan softly as warmth fills you, your eyes shutting from all of the bliss and pleasure you felt throughout the night.

Katsuki is hunched over you for a moment just trying to catch his breath before he kisses your shoulder and straightens up. He slowly pulls out causing both of you to groan, then he collapses onto the mattress beside you. You lower your hips down to the bed and stretch your body a bit before shuffling over to lay on his chest. With his eyes closed, Katsuki wraps an arm around you and begins lightly rubbing your lower back. It’s a peaceful and calm silence between the both of you, the only sounds being both of you breathing and your house’s A/C kicking on.

“There’s no lust factor,” You say quietly, your chin resting on his pec as you look up at his face.

Katsuki cracks an eye open and tilts his head to peer down at you in confusion, “What?” He rasps out.

“My Quirk, Hellspawn, is just demon traits. I don’t have any succubi traits or powers, so there’s no lust factor to my Quirk.” A teasing smile plays on your lips as you explain.

Katsuki is silent as he glares down at you, his face unamused until his lips twitch and a chuckle escapes him. You let out a few giggles yourself and Katsuki runs a hand down his face.

“Well, shit, there goes that explanation. If you’re telling the truth, that is,” He says as he gives you a look of feigned suspicion.

You gasp with feigned offense as you sit up a little, “I would never lie to a Pro Hero such as yourself! What’s the matter, Mr. Dynamight, you don’t believe in lust at first sight?” You can’t help the giggle that escapes you at your bad pun.

Katsuki groans as he rolls his eyes, “Jesus Christ, ‘lust at first sight’? I can’t tell if that's the stripper in you talkin’ or the succubus.”

“I’m not a succubus!” You exclaim as you playfully push him, a laugh leaving your mouth as you stare down at his smirking face.

“Where’s your bathroom, Succubus? We both need a damn shower,” Katsuki asks as he sits up.

His question feels like it’s muffled in your ears as thoughts of not wanting this to end flood your brain. You wonder if he wants this to be a one night stand. If he’ll get dressed, then ask you to not tell anyone about what you two did tonight. If maybe he doesn’t want the fact that he slept with a stripper to get out and ruin his grand reptati-

“Hey, we gunna get this shower over with so we can sleep or what?” Katsuki’s voice breaks you from your thoughts. “I’ll help ya change the bedding and shit after we get done ‘cause I’m sure as hell not sleeping in the puddle you made.” He says with a teasing smirk. You blink dumbly for a moment, then move to stand up to lead Katsuki to your bathroom.

‘He’s spending the night? Maybe he doesn’t want this to end just yet, either..’ You think as you step into the warm water of your shower, Katsuki stepping in right behind you. His arms wrap around you as he pulls you back flush against him, being mindful of your wings. He sighs as he kisses the crook of your neck and you lean back into him, closing your eyes and just enjoying the moment.

Note ~ Welp, there we go, Lovelies! This was a fun fic to write even though I'm not familiar with the workings of a strip club. I did recently watch the movie Hustlers and felt a bit more confident about what I was writing, haha. Hope it was a good read and y'all stay tuned for more fics! Love and appreciate all of you, Lovelies! <3

[frost-queen]

Outmatched //Part 10 (Reader!Holmes x Anthony Bridgerton)

Forever tag: @missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, 

@queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly, @denkisclown, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr,    @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @october-leaves, @m-rae23,@kazbekkarluvbot, @freyathehuntress,

@kneelforloki, @mamaj-right, @queensgirl718, @abaker74, @thescooby-gang, @readers-posts, @randomstory56, @aureolinb, @fictional-hooman, 

@nyenye,  @loliakeoghan23, @heyheyheyggg, @aizawash0e, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @novas-dreamworld, @preciousbabypeter, @magical-spit, @heyheyheyggg, studioreader, @wonderlandfandomkingdom, @misscaller06, @dracoflaco, @nikithepuff, @child-of-of-the-sunshine

Summary: Schemes come to plan in order to force Anthony and you together. Can a heart to heart change matters? Certainly now your aunt has come into the picture, wanting to have her demands over you. [ Final chapter ] Read part 1  & part 2 & part 3 & part 4 & part 5 & part 6 & part 7 & part 8 & part 9

Sherlock was writing vigorously. The feather in his hand moving swiftly as he scribbled it around. Dipping as quick as he could in the ink seemingly not wanting to forget a word. It had been annoying you for the past couple of days. It made you sigh loud to get his attention. Nothing occurred as Sherlock was lost in his own mind. Having no ears for his surroundings. You sighed again sitting sloppy in the armchair.

Irritated by the scratching of the feather over paper, you got up. – “Whoever are you corresponding with so eagerly?” – You called out making your way over to him. You came to the front of the desk, lowering yourself on your knees, chin up on the level of the desk. Finally Sherlock noticed you with a brief glance. – “A lady perhaps?” – you responded shockingly.

“Someone you met at the ball? Are you in love Sherlock?” – you questioned with a gleam in your eyes. – “Don’t be absurd.” – Sherlock answered dipping the feather in the ink. – “A sister can dream.” – you told him slightly bummed. Sherlock looked up from his paper. – “So can a brother.” – he simply said. It made you roll your eyes at him.

“Should you not be preparing yourself?” – Sherlock spoke barely looking up as he finished the letter with his name. – “Prepare for what?” – you responded confused. Sherlock placed the feather down, giving you his full attention. – “The park.” – he informed you.

You got up half confused. Slightly narrowing your eyes at him. – “Where are you going with this?” – you wanted to know. Sherlock started folding letter. – “Nowhere.” – he let on, burning some candlewax to seal the note. You watched him closely. Trying to decipher a hint on his face.

Something that would give himself away. Nothing. Your brother was good in hiding his emotions. Frustrated you groaned and took a turn towards the hallway. You went up the stairs to your bedroom to prepare. Moments later you were meeting up with your brother Sherlock outside of the house. 

You took his arm letting him escort you to the park. The weather was quite nice. A soft breeze bristling through the trees. The sun high as it left a warmth on your skin. – “Have you heard anything from Lord Hill?” – you asked when Sherlock nodded at a passing gentleman. – “No.” – he responded placing his hand on yours over his arm. He came to a brief pause. – “Why? Is it something you anticipate?” – he questioned with a raised eyebrow. – “No.” – you answered tugging at his arm to walk again. – “I was simply curious.” – you mumbled turning your head away from him.

To be fair you were a bit curious off his reaction. You did leave him standing alone at the ball. Rejecting him for the entire ton to see. You hoped he didn’t resent you for it. Or perhaps you hoped he might forgive you. Perhaps he was your only chance of getting out of your aunt’s clutches. The thought alone frightened you. Knowing that your aunt would start meddling herself into your life. Marrying you off to anyone suitable enough in her eyes. Take you away from your family for proper etiquettes. Wanting you to be as stiff and stuffy as all the other ladies throwing themselves at any man possible simply because they can’t get any better.

That was not what you wanted. Far from. You wanted to marry for love if it allow itself to you. At this point you didn’t think you were worthy of love anymore. Sherlock must have noticed the self-pity in your eyes as he gave you a nudge with his elbow. Making you look up to his warming smile. It made you smile faintly back, letting your head rest against his shoulder. Sherlock took a deep breath wishing love upon you so hard. If anyone deserved it, it was you.

You lifted your head back up upon arriving at the park. – “Now what are we here for?” – you questioned. Sherlock just smiled. – “A nice walk.” – he responded not pleasing you with his answer. Now it truly felt like he was hiding something from you. – “Sherlock Holmes now I know you are hiding things from me!” – you outed with a stern expression. Sherlock chuckled at your attempt of a motherly scowl. – “I wouldn’t dream of it sister.”

You puffed loud turning your head away. Sherlock led you down the pathway, greeting some people sitting on the benches with a nod. Up ahead you saw a carriage stand in the middle of the road. Sherlock breathed in as his chest rose. He picked up his pace, dragging you along. You tagged along confused as he walked to the side of the carriage. – “Are…are we getting in?” – you asked confused. Sherlock opened the carriage door pushing you inside. At the same time the door on the other side opened as well.

“You are!” – Sherlock spoke as you felt another body bump against yours. Turning your head your eyes widened at the sight of Lord Bridgerton. His eyes equally shocked. You and Anthony each grabbed for the door on your side. Sherlock shut the door firmly almost in your face. – “Sherlock!” – you called out frustrated. – “Mother!” – Anthony shouted at the same time. You turned your head seeing Miss Bridgerton at his side, keeping the door shut just like your brother did.

“Start the carriage!” – Violet called out with a smile. – “Stop the carriage!” – you screamed out wanting to get off. – “Whatever you do, do not stop this carriage till you reach your destination!” – Sherlock made clear to the driver, flipping him a few coins. The driver tipped his hat to Sherlock, signalling the horses to ride off. Anthony and you fell back against the seats as you rode off. With a lot of effort you pulled yourself forwards as the carriage was speeding. Not just a stroll around the park, but almost galloping.

You grabbed for the handle pushing it open as the door swung open. Your body nearly falling over when you stared down at the quick passing gravely road. A pair of hands on your waist. – “Are you insane!?” – Anthony shouted pulling you back inside the carriage. You automatically closed the door once more as your hand was still on the handle. Panting loud you needed a second. – “Did you truly plan on jumping out of a riding carriage just to get away from me?” – Anthony questioned rudely. – “The offer was tempting.” – you responded making him puff loud.

Anthony and you both turned away from each other looking outside of the carriage. It toggled and bumped around as you could barely sit still. – “I cannot believe Sherlock would trick me this much.” – you mumbled under your breath. – “Or mama.” – Anthony breathed out. His head turned slightly to you as you intended the same. Catching each other’s gaze. It locked in tight, unable to look away. In this moment your breathing became heavier. The yearning for him rising up in tide-waves. Each wave more intense than the one before.

Blinking softly it occurred to you what you were doing. How madly in love your eyes must have looked. Anthony reacted the same way pulling away at the same time as you. Both looking away. Taking a deep breath you let yourself slouch back against the seat. – “What is it?” – Anthony asked with care in his voice. No hint of mockery in his tone. You fidgeted with your fingers on your lap. – “The season will come closer to an end than we expect.” – you told him. – “It won’t be long anymore till I have to say goodbye to it all.”

Anthony was slightly confused with shock. He got up coming to sit in front of you. – “What are you referring to?” – he asked. – “Are… are you…” – he spoke barely able to say it out loud. Something inside of him hoping it wouldn’t be the case. – “No.” – you answered with a shake of your head. Anthony exhaled relieved barely seeable to you. – “I am not engaged my lord or will ever be…” – you went on with a saddened expression. Anthony’s expression full of pity as you reminded him of himself in this moment.

You let your eyes fall onto him. – “Perhaps I have taken all the chances at love that I deserve?” – you told him letting your gaze fall briefly onto his lips. Taking a deep breath, you tore your gaze away from them. – “It doesn’t matter truly for I won’t be able to escape my aunt’s restrictions.” – you continued as Anthony gaped at you. – “Soon you won’t have any trouble of me anymore, my lord.” – you finished.

“By the end of the season I’ll leave to join my aunt where she will groom me to find a match to her liking. It is what has been agreed between my father and her long ago.” – you explained. Anthony took a deep breath with concern. The carriage came to a stop. The glance in his eyes making you scrunch your eyebrows.

The footman opened the door startling you. The moment interrupted as you got out. There you saw your brother waiting for you. You glared at him, storming over to him. Anthony got out numbly. Almost missing his step and stumbling over his own feet. – “Anthony?” – Violet said seeing the sadness in his eyes. – “Sister?” – Sherlock spoke. – “Don’t!” – you made clear wiping your cheek aggressively. He turned to look confused at Violet. It sure must’ve worked right? They had planned it so thoroughly. Violet smiled faintly back at him, moving Anthony closer to her.

With her arm over his shoulder, Violet and Anthony parted ways from Sherlock and you. Sherlock turned round jogging up to you as you had walked off.  He didn’t dare to ask how it went upon seeing your distressed reaction. Perhaps it was harder than he expected. To be fair he was very known with the stubbornness of the Holmes’s. The two of you arrived at the estate again. The doorman opening the door to you. – “Do not trick me again!” – was the only thing you said with a loud tone. Sherlock swallowed feeling a bit shameful.

You wanted to storm off to your room when Mycroft appeared from out of the Parlor, clearing his throat nervously. Sherlock stretched his hand out, tapping you gently against the elbow to draw your attention. Mycroft delicately closed the door behind him. – “We… we have a situation.” – he said before you heard the familiar voice of your aunt. Your eyes widened looking frightened at Sherlock. – “Have they arrived?” – you heard her shrill voice come from the Parlor.

The door opened as it bumped against Mycroft’s back making him stumble forwards. Your aunt smiled as wrinkles showed around her eyes and mouth. With open arms she made her way over to you. Sherlock stepping aside to leave room for your aunt to give you an uncomfortable hug. – “Look at you!” – she said unsure to you if it was an insult or not. She tilted your chin up, turning it to the side to have a good look of you. – “I should’ve come sooner.” – she mumbled.

“But!” – she clasped her hands together in delight. – “Tell me Y/n have you found a match yet? Has there been a proposal? Should I expect wedding bells?” – she asked vigorously. – “There has not been.” – you told her honestly. – “Why Y/n the end of the season is nearing. Have you been absent from any balls?” – She turned rudely to your brothers. – “Have there been no gentleman’s offerings? Visits? Interests?” – she wanted to know.

“There…” – Mycroft started. – “There is a gentleman interested… is it not Sherlock?” – Mycroft narrowed his eyes at Sherlock hoping his little scheme of today would be fruitful. Sherlock cleared his throat. – “In the process.” – he answered nervously. He could see Mycroft sigh disappointed and nervous. – “In the process? Sherlock we cannot wait for the process! Y/n must be married off this season to give this family some stability.” – she responded with diplomacy. – “We understand aunt but…” – Mycroft began as he got cut off by her. – “I don’t think you understand well enough!” – she responded bitsy.

“Y/n is running out of time! You shouldn’t have let it come this far. I will not have my niece turn into a hag.” – she finished off. – “Aunt!” – Sherlock called out with a hateful look in his eyes. – “Do not disrespect her!” – he made clear. She simply huffed. She spun back around to you holding her fingers sternly up to you. – “By the end of the season you will come with me and marry the man I offer you!” – she made clear. – “No!” – Mycroft said coming to stand in between. – “Stand aside boy!” – she answered with a hard stare. – “You had your task and failed miserably.” –

Sherlock came joining his brother’s side, blocking you out of her sight. – “You cannot force her to marry out of diplomacy.” – Sherlock outed. – “Oh but I can.” – she answered. You took a deep breath stepping from behind your brothers. They both shook their head knowing you were about to give in. You moved in front of them, curtsying at your aunt. Your aunt smiled proudly. She took you by the wrist. – “Let us have some tea.” – you got pulled back into the Parlor. The second the door shut grabbed your brother Mycroft for Sherlock’s shirt. – “You told me it would work!” – he called out, shaking him around.

“It should’ve!” – Sherlock answered loudly, pushing his hands off. – “I cannot hold her off any longer Sherlock! Our sister is going to be taken away from us in a matter I do not agree upon.” – Mycroft said. Oh how much his character had grown over the months. From a posh man wanting to have you out of his hands to a caring man fighting for his family. – “I will fix it!” – Sherlock replied. – “How? At this rate I don’t see anything happening in the upcoming five years.” – he sighed out letting himself fall exhaustedly against the wall. – “I will figure it out.” – Sherlock said.

The ball was not to your liking. It felt like a goodbye to everything. It felt like the last thing keeping you close to your roots here in London. No intrigued you to join. Standing at the side you watched how everyone socialised. Taking a deep breath you felt out of place. Having no desire or interest in mingling among the people. Perhaps you had already given up. Given up on the last few chances of finding a match. Of finding someone equally to you. Someone you could see yourself love.

Glancing to your right you saw your brothers near.  They too had a saddened expression. The ball to no interest to them. It pained you to see them knowing of the trouble they went through. Knowing you had a hand to play in this. Perhaps you have been too stubborn. Too much against it and not willingly. Perhaps… perhaps…Looking back at the dancers you saw Colin Bridgerton amongst them. Colin… Bridgerton.

Your mind went instantly to Anthony. Feeling your chest warm up at the simple thought of him. Not so long ago you saw a future with him. Despite the bickering and competitive you still admired him underneath. Secretly loved how he would provoke you. Send you off into frustration and to your boiling point. Oh how much you loved to get so worked up over him.

Yet it wasn’t meant to be. Your stubbornness had won in flying colours. In need of fresh air you got in motion. Your brother Sherlock wanted to go after you, but Mycroft held him back. Shaking his head in speech of letting you have your space. You made your way through the crowd towards the gardens. Brushing past people to reach the other side. Walking out, you were greeted by a soft breeze. The night sky bright. You made your way over to some bush roses.

Looking up to the sky, you were in deep thought. Anthony had found a way outside. Having almost entirely searched the estate in search. Looking thoroughly and with a destined purpose. Every inch around he wanted to have seen. He neared to the rose bushes that were overgrown like a small forest around the estate.

He turned around, leaning back with furrowed brows. There between the rose bushes he saw his purpose. With determination and without a second thought he made his way over. Finally he had a clear view. A clear view of you. You glanced to the side, having spotted a sudden appearance in the corner of your vision.

Anthony neared looking breathlessly at you. – “Do you still plan on to leave with your aunt?” – he questioned with a mournful expression. – “It is what is intended… for me.” – you responded. – “I am apparently made to save my family from ruin.” – you told him. – “You love your family dearly.” – he spoke coming more over to you. You were looking down fumbling a bit with your dress. – “As much as you love yours.” – you told him without a glance. With a deep breath you finally dared yourself to look up.

Struck instantly by his overwhelming gaze. The brightness in his eyes that could light a fire. – “I was fearful of losing you.” – he confessed with a hard swallow. Admitting his feelings so openly to you felt vulnerable. – “That is why I became… after your accident… I couldn’t…” – he slightly shook his head vowing his words to you. You took a deep breath when Anthony neared more. – “I love you.” – he outed.

“I have loved you from the moment you insulted me.” – taking one more step closer to you. – “I have loved you at every dance, on every walk. Every time we have been together and every time we have been apart. You do not have to accept it or even embrace it but you must know it, in your heart.” – Anthony expressed deeply. He took your hand making you look down at the gesture.

“You must feel it, because I do.” – he pressed his hand onto his chest, staring deeply at you. – “I love you.” – he repeated with all his heart. You scrunched your eyebrow softly at him. – “I don’t not know what to say.” – you told him. – “You don’t have to say anything.” – he answered letting his thumb brush against your hand he was still holding. – “I do not think there is anything else to say… other than I love you too.” – you answered heartily. Anthony exhaled stunned. – “You…” – he breathed out. You lowered your head smiling foolishly at yourself. He looked down taking your other hand in his too.

“I know I am imperfect but I will humble myself before you, because I cannot imagine my life without you and that is why I wish to marry you.” – he spoke with a smile. You returned his smile with one of your own. – “You do know there will not be a day that you shall not vex me.” – you told him teasingly. Anthony let go of your hand allowing his hand to go around your waist to your lower back. – “Is that a promise Y/n Holmes?” – he responded smug. You moved your head closer to his, drawn to him. – “It is a promise.” – you breathed out wanting his lips on yours.

Anthony inhaled deep near your lips, anticipating the moment your lips would touch. – “You are not going anywhere Y/n.” – he whispered to you teasing your lips with the presence of his. You vigorously shook your head moving your hands around his neck. – “I shall not.” – you replied before you forced your lips onto his. An explosion of feelings bursting inside of you. Lips kissing each other with the upmost passion and longing.

Your body being pressed against his, wanting you as deeply as he could. No more you needed to feel saddened. No more you needed to leave. No more you were unloved having finally found your match.

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

Read more of my fic’s on my Masterlists!

[ghcstao3]

Even without his art, Soap is a people-watcher—but that being said, finding muses for his art is a job made easy when the biggest window of his flat overlooks a busy street.

For as long as he’s lived at that address, he’s had plenty of luck picking out whoever catches his eye and filling out sketchbooks worth of passersby. Every drawing a stranger, every subject unique.

Until the empty business space across the street is finally leased out to some new bistro, and suddenly Soap only has eyes for one person.

A man too well-built to be a server, surely, with arms Soap could watch flex all day as he brings out orders to customers on the patio. Soap never knows what expression he wears not because of distance, but rather the black face mask that obscures the lower half of the man’s face.

When, weeks later, Soap notices that he’s suddenly almost filled an entire journal with sketches of the server, he decides to finally pay a visit to the bistro.

It isn’t at all luck that gets Soap seated in his—the server’s section, just the pathetic fact that he’s long since memorized the man’s oddly reliable schedule.

If Soap were a stronger man he’d never admit to the feeling of his knees going weak when the man comes to take his order. The name tag tacked to the white dress shirt that stretches over broad shoulders reads Simon, and god, does Simon have a nice voice.

As soon as he’s gone with Soap’s request, Soap’s sketchbook is open. He’s quick to scribbling out every line and curve he couldn’t possibly have seen from afar, and ends up so enraptured in this new angle that he doesn’t notice Simon has returned until he’s looming over his shoulder, gaze fixed on Soap’s journal.

“So that’s what you’ve been drawing.”

Soap startles, slams his journal shut. All he can manage is a weak what? as he looks up at Simon.

The server jerks his chin in the direction of Soap’s building. Soap notes, with some distant observation, that he’s still balancing several plates on his forearms with ease.

“I’ve seen you in the window a few times,” Simon tells him.

Soap wants to melt into the floor. He desperately needs the earth to crack open and swallow him whole.

“I’m sorry, it’s not—it wasnae—“ Soap stammers, his fingers drumming an anxious pattern on the faux leather cover of his book, “I’ll stop.”

“I don’t mind,” Simon hums, leaving it cryptically at that. He finally sets Soap’s food on the table, bidding a good meal before disappearing off to go do his job.

Soap doesn’t think the buzzing warmth on his face ever fades for the entirety of his time spent at the bistro. Simon never checks in with Soap like he does other patrons, either, so Soap just gets to wallow.

Things are hardly made better when Simon says hope to see you around after Soap has paid, or when Soap gets home and notices the phone number scrawled on his receipt just as he’s about to ball it up and toss it out.

Going to the bistro was a mistake. Simon is surely going to be the death of him.

Or Soap is going to be the death of himself—especially doing something dumb as accidentally leaving his sketchbook behind in his haste to get out.

Soap’s cheeks burn.

And when he looks out his window to the table he’d been sat, he already sees the journal is gone.

Idiot. What a complete and utter idiot.

[zoesmp4]

GLITCH “we were supposed to be just friends.” carl grimes x fem!reader

tags: a little bit of angst but mostly fluff, has mentions of death, lowercase intended!!

a/n: kinda based on glitch by taylor swift. repost of first fic bc im suupppeerr busy rn and idk if ill get anything out for a bit!!

it was never supposed to end up like this. oh no, not even remotely close. when you first arrived to alexandria, with your jagged cuts and discolored bruises scattered across your body, majority of your hope was lost. all of the important people in your life seemed to just fade away, and you couldn’t do anything about it.

you would spend your days sat beneath a tree, idling away the hours reading your beloved comics. you enjoyed the isolation, it provided you with a slight sense of comfort. that was the case until one particular day. you made your way over to your special spot, freezing in your tracks when you saw him. carl grimes.

he was sitting with his back against your tree. you never really talked to the boy, only spoken to each other once, which was when you first arrived. he was friendly and seemed like a nice kid, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to talk to anyone. the fear of getting attached and losing them in the end made you shudder every time you thought of it.

you quietly sat down next to him, not uttering a single word. he looked up from his own comic, shooting you a smile along with a “hey.”

it became a daily occurrence, sitting down next to whoever came first. you two started to talk more, bonding over your love for comics and random things you had in common. you started to open up, a stark contrast to how you normally behaved, and over time a meaningful attachment to each other blossomed.

carl knew and noticed everything about you, from your favorite color down to how your nose lightly scrunched when you felt the slightest bit of discomfort. he brought out a side of you that you thought was gone long ago. he’d changed you for the better, and you were extremely grateful.

at some point however, you started to feel a certain way around carl. you tried to push it away, told yourself you were just being silly. but you knew deep down how you really felt. you had feelings for the pretty boy. hell, you were practically in love.

you told yourself he would never reciprocate the feelings, and tried to forget about it, but it was oh so hard when his arm would brush over yours while walking, when he looked at you with his eyes that resembled the blue flames of a restless fire.

“oh come on! it was one time.” you say, giggling at carl’s joke while walking alongside him. “sure, we’re just gonna forget about all the other times you fell on your face because you don’t look where you’re going.” he says playfully, nudging your shoulder while smiling.

you felt your heart skip a beat, and tried to hide your flustered state. there was a short silence between you two before carl’s footsteps came to a stop. you look at him, eyebrows furrowing with confusion.

“what’s up?” “i- there’s something i haven’t told you.” he says, lowering the volume of his voice. “which is..?” you say, slightly fidgeting with your hands in anxiety, thinking of all the possibilities of what could come out of his mouth.

could it be he wanted to stop hanging out? he wanted space? surely you did something to upset him. negative thoughts ran through your mind, you spacing out in the process. “i like you.” he blurts out, instantly breaking your trance. “huh?” “i said i like you. i really like you.”

it felt as if you couldn’t breathe, the words not coming out of your mouth. you were simply taken aback. carl grimes likes you? he must be joking. “i- is this a joke? it must be. you’re really funny carl, seriously best joke of the ye-”

he cuts you off by smashing his soft lips against your mildly chapped ones. he cups your face with his cold hands, the feeling of his lips upon yours felt like a dream. it didn’t feel real, as if it were a glitch.

your lips were locked on each others for what seemed like ages before you two had to pull away to take a breath. carl took your hand in his, rubbing circles onto your palm as you two made eye contact. “believe me now?” he says, smiling as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “hmm, not quite. think i need a round two.” “smart girl.” he says before leaning in once again.

[pumpkinbxtch]

Helloo I was wondering if I could make a request

Since it's prom season here where I'm at I was wondering if you could do a highschool au prom with Jason Grace (or any other of the PJO boys) where reader(male or gn) Is waiting for someone to ask them out because they don't think anyone will accept their invitation to prom if they ask so they wait patiently for someone to ask them to prom. Days go by still no one has asked the reader out to prom and reader is like sulking in their home sad cause no one asked them out until reader heard a noise coming from outside they check it out and they see Jason outside waiting to ask reader out

Angst to fluff type stuff It would be so nice if you were to fill this request but it's you're choice if you do tyy

wait forever —⁠☆

| highschool au | — jason grace x gn!reader

warnings; language, a bit of angst but turns into fluff. tags; the reader has a crush on jason, jason being oblivious about the reader feelings. a/n; hello! I hope you are very well. This is the first Jason fic omg . I will do it in gn because I usually use the feminine or neutral, I hope you enjoy it and I send you a big greeting from mhmm mars!

Jason was the king of the class. Everyone wanted to talk to him, ask him out, kiss him, or even kill him though those were the jealous few.

Guys like him got tons of invitations to be prom dates, just for the chance to be by his side for one night. But every time, he politely declined – which somehow made it even more painful– I mean, he was handsome, kind, and smart. Whoever ended up with him would be lucky.

And there you were, leaning on your elbows, watching as he gently turned down another girl. This was becoming routine since the prom date had been announced and plastered all over the school. You noticed the girl apologized, and he tried to avoid a hostile rejection. You could almost read his lips saying, “On the contrary, it’s an honor, I’m sorry, blah, blah, blah.” Same words, just another person hearing them from Jason. You laughed to yourself, unsure if it was in humor or despair.

Then you cleared your throat as you saw Jason return to his seat, conveniently in front of you. You guessed that you and Jason weren’t that close because talking excessively during school but rarely outside of it didn’t make you friends.

— If you keep this up, you'll never get a date, Jason — yelled his dark-haired friend, tossing a paper ball at him. Jason examined it with a raised eyebrow.

— Shut up, will you? And really, Leo? Heather B.?— His friend grinned and raised his hands. If you remembered correctly, Heather often teased Leo, and they apparently couldn’t stand each other. But it seemed that was just her way of getting his attention, and it worked. Great, Leo Valdez had a date, and you didn’t.

When Jason finally sat down, he turned to you with a smile that gave you butterflies.

— Do you have a date?

Oh god.

— No — you said, whining with pleading eyes. It would’ve been just as obvious if you got on your knees and started praying out loud that you were the one he wanted to go with. Instead, your classmate pressed his lips together and rested his head on his crossed arms.

— You’ll find someone.

Uh, that was the problem. You looked around, and no one seemed particularly interested in asking you. Your friends had found their dates before you could even suggest going as a group. But honestly, even if that had happened, it wouldn’t have been what you wanted. You wanted to go with someone special, but you were too shy to ask anyone, so you just waited.

—I suppose,— you responded, trying not to sound disappointed, though you knew you couldn’t expect anything from him because he probably had much better and more attractive options than you… oh. Despite your mind’s attempts to calm you down, you found yourself wondering… What if you asked Jason? Would he say no? Of all the people, you’d be the first somewhat close person to ask him.

— Jason — you called out suddenly, a burst of courage surprising you. His bright blue eyes glanced over his shoulder, leaving you speechless. How many had the privilege of his attention? You didn’t know, but you wanted to be the only one. You stumbled over your words, cheeks flushing, but he turned slightly, attentive, until the words left your mouth. Not a hint of mockery on his face. — Never mind.

You mentally slapped yourself, and Jason smiled kindly.

— If you remember what you wanted to say, tell me.

Yeah, asking wasn’t your thing. It was better to wait for someone to ask you. Maybe that Nakamura guy from the other class with whom you had a great conversation about the weather would come to mind. You thought, with a bit of luck, he wouldn’t have a date, and he’d think of you.

So, that’s what you did. But the torment was watching others ask each other in creative ways, flirting to see if there was mutual interest. You witnessed the air fill with the joy and misery of securing a date. Obviously, the proposals for Jason didn’t stop; they increased, making it more painful because he was the guy you wanted to hold your hand at the stupid dance.

As the days passed, your mood worsened, and that Wednesday, you opened your locker with hope and found absolutely nothing. Frustrated, you stuffed your books inside and slammed the door shut with a curse. You might have looked intimidating if Jason hadn’t appeared behind it, making you scream and him laugh. You didn’t understand how some people thought he was stuck-up and serious when the guy was the complete package (you cried internally again).

— What are you doing later? — he asked, twirling the rose in his hand with a raised eyebrow.

— Why? Are you going to tell me all the ways people have asked you to the dance, starting with that rose that some girl must have given you — Jason laughed again and pointed the rose at you so close you could smell its sweet fragrance.

— Boy — he corrected, and you rolled your eyes, but curiosity and anxiety overwhelmed you.

— And you said…?

— No.

You nodded and headed to the cafeteria with him following behind, which you found odd since he was about two heads taller than you.

— Don’t get me wrong. It’s for the same reason I turned down everyone else.

You smiled to show you were listening and stopped abruptly when the dance committee blocked the way with their huge decorations. Totally distracted, Jason bumped into you. If it had been the other way around, it wouldn’t have happened, but he was much heavier, so you ended up wobbling, at risk of falling flat on your face if his large hands hadn’t caught you at the exact moment.

— Sorry, I didn’t see — he swore, holding you tightly by the waist with his chin brushing your ear. His breath against your skin gave you a shiver; you had never been so close to him.

You slowly turned your body while still on tiptoes, and to your surprise, he never let go. Probably, your eyes had stars, and you wore the stupidest smile ever, but Jason didn’t notice because he was focused on not letting you fall on the freshly waxed floor in front of everyone. Because contrary to what you thought, to Jason, you were a dear friend. Now that his eyes met yours, the frustration of not knowing why he felt so different with you compared to his friendships with Leo, Piper, or Annabeth became even more apparent. He could never achieve the same level of closeness with them that he had with you.

— Th-thanks — Nervously, you began to remove his hands from your body, and Jason let go with an apology, noting that maybe you didn’t like physical contact too much while ignoring the fact that some people were watching and whispering, and you were almost melting in his arms.

You gave him an embarrassed smile and watched as the last decorations paraded down the hall. Only two days left, and you still didn’t have a date. Apparently, Jason didn’t see your frown or the pout starting to form on your lips because he carelessly began to pat you on the shoulder with a friendly laugh. But that wasn’t as bad as what he said next.

— Well, if I pushed you against the balloons and streamers again, at least you’d be part of the decorations and prettier than being a wallflower.

And honestly, what the fuck?

You didn’t know if it was the stress of not having a date, the desperation for Jason to notice you, or everything combined with the bad weather outside, but you didn’t have the guts to handle the joke. Because yeah, that’s what it was, and there was no malice in his tone. But you couldn’t do anything more than hum while grimacing. The hallway seemed to transform into the coldest place in the universe and Jason looked at you with slightly wider eyes than usual, noticing your mood change immediately.

— Sorry–

— It’s fine, Jason. I wish I were you to get thousands of proposals. See you later. — You rushed ahead, leaving Jason with his mouth open and a guilty feeling in his chest. He had never seen that side of you.

—Come on, dude! — Leo yelled, slapping the blonde’s back, who was miserably hugging his left sneaker while sitting on the locker room bench. He had worn that long face and slumped shoulders for the next hour. How could he have dared to make you angry before building a better friendship with you?

— I swear, Leo. Their eyes were full of…

— Not that, Jason — interrupted the dark-haired boy with a grimace. Jason raised an eyebrow, expecting something better than a nonsensical scolding, or so he thought. — Seriously, you haven’t realized they’re in love with you?

Jason nearly fell off the bench and bit his tongue. Leo rolled his eyes, exasperated by his friend’s dramatics. If being blind was a definition, Jason embodied it in many ways. Leo took off his glasses.

— Hey!

He cleaned them with the edge of his sports shirt and put them back on Jason.

— Can you see now? Or do I have to tell you that you’re terribly attracted to them, which is why you keep rejecting everyone?

Jason opened his mouth, his cheeks starting to burn, his stomach twisting, and his heart feeling close to a panic attack. Leo nodded wisely.

— My friend, you have the emotional maturity of a toddler.

Jason felt like a creep lurking around your house from the bushes after not seeing you anywhere for the rest of the day. Your sudden announcement of being sick didn’t sit well with him, so he ended up finding out where you lived.

In reality, you were grumbling and pacing around your living room while watching another episode of your favorite show. You reached the part where the main couple finally realized they were in love, and the episodes were filled with romance, so In bad humor, you threw a chip at the TV. The protagonist reminded you of Jason… Jason. UGH.

You smashed a pillow against your face and groaned in embarrassment. You had acted so weird with him that you thought you’d never be able to face him again, and that moment came too soon when his face appeared squished against your living room window, accompanied by a familiar metallic clang. Jason had tripped over the trash, leaving his face imprint on your window.

You wished you could’ve said something better than:

“AHH!”

And Jason wished he could’ve responded with something better than:

“AAAHHH!”

But honestly, neither of you was good at expressing your feelings in front of each other.

You quickly got up to open the door and found the blonde with his hands in his jacket, his breath visible in the cold. It took you several seconds to formulate the first of many questions racing through your mind.

— What are you doing here? — was the first of them, but you hadn’t expected the tone to be so guarded. You still seemed to hold a grudge from the morning, but in reality, you felt worse with yourself.

— I came… I…. — Jason took a breath and walked towards you, illuminated by the porch light with each step until his hair looked like golden thread. — Sorry for what I said. It was really stupid.

— It’s okay, Jason. I wasn’t in a good mood…

— No, please. I should’ve been more considerate…— You frowned, and he took another step, pulling his hands out of his jacket to try and reach yours. The gesture seemed unexpected, but you didn’t do anything to avoid physical contact because, honestly, you’d never do anything to avoid being close to him.

— Jason…

— Please, let me speak. — He held your hands, and for the first time, he was aware of how it felt physically to be with you. He almost felt his body vibrate, his heart leap with excitement, but he still had the hardest part to say. — I don’t have many explanations right now, but I’d like to be your prom date.

The words didn’t have the expected effect because you stepped back.

— If this is just out of pity…

Jason shook his head and reached for you again, this time hugging you. Maybe if he didn’t look directly at you, it would be easier. He hadn’t realized you could make him so nervous.

— Never. You’re the one I’ve been hoping to go with… just forgive me, I have the emotional maturity of a five-year-old, and... I thought you hated me.

You smiled, and Jason took that as a good sign. He pulled back a bit to look at you face-to-face and, with a nervous smile, whispered, “Please.” You had Jason Grace begging you to be his prom date.

— I don’t hate you — you whispered and blushed. — I, uh, like you.

— Thank all the gods that exist! Because I hope you forgive me for what I’m about to say…

Jason smiled widely, cheeks pink, nervously pinching the fabric of your clothes. You raised an eyebrow. Did that mean he liked you too?

— Actually, I kinda forgot to give you a message from one person and maybe it was to ask you out...

You opened your mouth in disbelief.

— Nakamura — you guessed, and Jason nodded, embarrassed, but then he started waving his hands and stuttering.

— But, Please, be my date. I like you too, okay? Who’s Nakamura, anyways? — He almost said it so fast it made you dizzy, but you laughed, the sweetest sound he could’ve heard.

— I thought it would take forever.

[works-of-heart]

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Tag 5 mutuals and say what you like about them; their art, fanfiction, positivity, sense of humor... Whatever it is that you find amazing about them!

=D I love this!! Thank you to whoever sent this and to those who have tagged me. Honestly, I've been so humbled by the amount of wonderful people I've met and seen in this community. All of you have made my days brighter, have made the hard times easier, and I thank everyone for that.

@zenkindoflove and @crazy-ache you are both amazing women! One of the first people who reached out to me and made me feel welcome here. You are both wise and caring, protective mama bears and absolutely amazing friends. I love how I can talk to you both about everything going on. Aside from just being stellar people, you both are so creative!

Individually you have your stupendous talents when it comes to writing Elucien and Erixius. Reading your fics have been such great escapes for me!

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I love reading Stars' takes on the chearacters, reading through what SJM's intentions are and possibly what could be laid out for the future books. I also love your insight into astrology, and your very wise breakdown of it!

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Luciensdefenseattourney is so talented and kind!! She's always pushing the limit on her art and bringing forth stunning commissions and very cute and delicious sensual art of elucien! One of my first art friends I made in this community! I cannot wait to see more of what you do and watch you continue to push the envelope and develop into an artist I've constantly admired!

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There are like a million other people on my mutuals that I could go on and on and on with, but this has already gone on too long! I've definitely gotten more than 5, but everyone has been so special and I love you all!

[dutifullylazybread]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤️

Ahhhh!!! Thank you so much for this!! 😭 This is such a wonderful ask! 💕💕💕

Full disclosure, I only have seven fics posted to Ao3, so the list is a bit sparse. I'm hoping to change this soon with a few lil smut pieces and some stories that I have cooking!

Deeply and Immovably So - [WIP] My Rolan x Tav long-fic. Most definitely one of the projects that I am the most proud of working on. It is a slow(er) burn than I am used to writing, but it has been so much fun to work on. I've gotten to really discover my writing style with this fic. 😊

At the Tail End of Things - [COMP] A Rolan x Tav smut!fic. I wanted to write something cute and domestic. Deeply and Immovably So can get really heavy at times, so to take a step back and just write some smut for the sake of writing smut makes me happy (though I am very sorry to the first 100 or so views who read this while there were some glaring errors I caught when I went back to edit!)

With You. At The Start. - [COMP] A Rolan x Tav fluff!fic written as a (very late) Valentine's day treat. I loved this one because I got to dig into the description and play with how spells are described and feel to the caster. Definitely a nice little treat for me.

Volo's Erotic Library - [Contributed a chapter][COMP] See, I don't want to tell you all which chapter I wrote, because I want everyone to read the collection and see how utterly cringey we all got while working on this (my one hint is that I cracked open a new pairing tag on Ao3... as did plenty of the other fics in this collection!). I loved contributing to this because it was fun to see how hard everyone could go. I wrote my chapter with the intention of just having fun and being ridiculous, and I accomplished exactly that!

A Quiet Homecoming - [COMP] This is the only non-BG3 fic on this list. This is my Vilkas x Dovahkiin smut!fic. This was also my very first forray into smut. So it's not perfect, but it is something that still makes me smile when I look back on it. Further down the line, I might write a ten-ish chaptered fic with this pairing, but that's a while out yet!

Thank you so much for this ask!! I'm so sorry it took me so long to respond! This was so fun though!! I'm going to (no pressure) tag @underdark-dreams @kimberbohwrites @lemonsrosesandlavender and whoever else would like to jump in! I'm not sure who has and hasn't done this yet, so if you have, no worries!! 💕

[springsketches]

Concept art stuff for something I’ve been dreaming about since High School. Galaxy’s black hole power up.

Normal and glow in the dark

[duckcritter]

Hello, i'm Ducky! ~★

Welcome to my art blog!

I'm a 22-year-old artist that mainly specializes in drawing funny anthro animals! In particular, i'm fond of sparkle-animals, less common furry species/hybrids, general weirdness, and toony art styles ^^

Info ...

★ I follow / interact from @funnyanimalguy ★ My icon art and banner were made by @rad-opossum and @xxacidnekoxx respectively <3 ★ I try my best to include alt text on all images, but they may be pretty lacking in detail. Critiques or improvements upon them are totally welcome, and i will edit the post ★ This blog is rated WEB-14 - I do mostly make SFW artwork, but i don't feel comfortable committing myself to being "family friendly" all of the time. I draw what i want! ★ If you want to only see my art posts in order, simply go to the tag #art

Links ...

Deviantart ★ Furaffinity ★ Mastodon ★ Instagram ★ Cohost ★ ToyHouse ★ Bluesky || Ko-fi ★ Inprnt ★ Redbubble

Inspiration / others' art: @beautiful-art-world || @furweird

Here is my fursona's ref sheet

and some of my art that's available as prints on my Inprnt :3

PS) My ask box is open for any questions!

I hope whoever is reading this has a nice day 🧡

[madarasgirl]

hi! i don't know if you will read this but today is my birthday and i would like to make a request for a dirty - obscene madara that has blood kink (period blood) .

i hope you are well and have a nice day ❤️ your writing is always beautiful, ily

Dirty Blood Kink Madara Scenario

Madara was also requested to be horny and needy. *rubs my hands together.* Alright! I have my instructions! Hehehe thank you for this ask and the kind words. And happy belated birthday! I hope this short scene satisfies you.

Tags/warnings: 18+ NSFW, Madara x Fem!Reader, period sex including oral and vaginal sex, blood kink, somnophilia. No violence against the SO. 

But come on, as if some blood would turn Madara off. Some people will find the bloody murder sex in this gross. You have been warned! (Mads was horny and didn't notice whatever menstrual product the SO was wearing, okay?) Words: 1540

Madara gazed down at the lush forests of Konoha from his mountaintop perch. The vast expanse of stars blinked like fireflies in the night sky, the sounds of nocturnal animals filled the warm air. His gaze fell on his home in the distance. It was good to be back.

It was a brutal mission spanning several weeks. No, he didn't enjoy the kills he inevitably had to make, but the enemies put up an excellent fight against him. What a battle the cumulation of this mission had been. Madara felt alive, the thrill of battle still thrummed wildly in his veins.

He stepped off the cliff and landed lightly on his feet whilst thinking of who was waiting for him at home. He couldn’t wait to see you. His woman. He needed to fuck.

It was protocol for shinobi to report to the Hokage tower upon returning from missions, but Madara could care less about the rules. He had to see you first if he was to remain civil with whoever he was obliged to deal with next. Besides, who was going to enforce the 'rules' on him? Everyone knew strength ruled in this world. The fool Hashirama wasn't going to pester him for going home to see you first and Tobirama could kiss his ass. If Tobirama took issue (he will), Madara was convinced the younger Senju must just be jealous that the Uchiha was going to have a better night than he. 

With the easy decision made, Madara dashed through the empty streets, the summer breeze in his hair elevating his high spirits. He was alive. His senses prickled with awareness of his surroundings. There was a cat stalking a rodent in the alleyway around the corner. A drunkard stumbled down another. Thousands of nameless shinobi and civilians alike slept blissfully in their own beds. He sensed your presence before he arrived at his destination. Taking a well-practiced route that took him directly to his bedroom, he landed silently on the roof and was through the window instantly in a flurry of smooth motions. 

Madara paused.

He was filthy, covered in the viscera of his foes. He was bloodied himself, with dirt matting his hair and his clothes torn. He was a hot mess and loved every second of it. He thought of you again －your gentle curves, the arch of your spine when you moaned and tried to take him deeper. Your voice as you found release. He longed to fuck you right now, but it felt wrong, sullying, to be in your presence and smearing the filth of others onto your body if he took you now.

His gaze landed on a lump in his massive bed. You were tangled in the sheets and fast asleep, completely unaware of the danger that lurked in the shadows. His expression softened, though his cock throbbed from thinking about your body. He thought of you again, of your bright eyes and smile whenever you saw him return home as you ran to greet him at the door. He almost growled out loud, but managed to contain himself. He made quick work of tossing his ruined garments and cleansing himself for you before he joined you in bed.

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

Madara nearly laughed as he explored your pliant body. Were you really a kunoichi? You were such a deep sleeper you haven’t even stirred despite how he handled you. He copped a feel of your squishy tits and wrapped his arms around your limp form to snuggle you. He sighed. How he missed this these past weeks.

His cock twitched again when he caught the scent of your hair. It was something lightly floral. He needed more of your body.

Upon feeling your ring around his probing fingers, he hissed. Only a few weeks apart and you were already this tight. He couldn’t wait to get inside you. Madara kept scissoring his fingers into your soft hole, pressing his nose to your neckline and inhaling hungrily. He missed everything about you greatly.

He wanted to be gentle…but now was not the time. Your runny slick provided ample lubrication and though he was large, you would be able to take him. He pulled his digits from your opening, only to be hit by the pungent smell of iron.

What’s this?

Excitement clouded his mind as he realized you were menstruating. The rabid Uchiha lapped up the fluids coating his digits before rational thought could stop him. The taste of blood filled his mouth, almost like he was still in battle. He groaned, fisting his steel cock as he debated whether to plunder his conquest now or to eat it first. Your essence was absolutely delicious.

He needed more of you. He got between your legs and gently eased them apart, then started feasting. Soon, the exquisite mixture of your arousal and blood flowed as he got you wetter and wetter. What could make one feel more alive than this, being surrounded by his woman’s pussy slick and her essence of life? 

He buried his tongue to the hilt up your sheath. He relished the metallic tang and silken slime melting on his tongue as he kept drinking. Your fluids slid down his jaw and crept between the crack of your bum, soaking into the snow white silk of the sheets. A problem for tomorrow.

“Mada?” You jerked awake in alarm before feeling the familiar signature of your love’s powerful chakra. You could barely make out his shape in the darkness, but you knew it was him. You felt his excitement buzzing in the air.

"Shhh." He reassured you that everything was okay and flicked that sinful tongue on your clit before diving back into you to taste and smell your blood surrounding him.

The fog was slow to clear from your mind (some ninja you were). He wasn't expected to be home tonight, the mission ended early? Then again, it was very like Madara to make sure his enemies were thoroughly vanquished so he could rush home to you sooner.

You remembered it was the heaviest day of your period and clenched your thighs around Madara’s spiky head. The naughty, taboo act was embarrassing, but even you couldn't deny his skill. He eased the cramping and discomfort of your monthly. 

Your lover kissed his way up your abdomen to capture your lips and share his delight. "Missed you," he whispered.

You didn't enjoy the taste of blood like he did, but you dreamed of being back in his arms for weeks. You returned his delicate kiss, matching it when it turned feverish. A hard length prodded your rear and you shifted to line up with it.

He buried himself in a single lunge. Your frame tensed, but the shock of the stretch passed quickly and pure euphoria set in. Bracing yourself up on your elbows, you urgently threw your hips back onto his in a sloppy meeting. The two of you moved as one. He gently palmed your face and stroked your cheek, despite the need in his own expression. Faster and faster he threw himself into you and you responded by grinding hard on him with a shudder.

Madara growled and pulled you to your knees with animalistic hunger, the bottom half of his face stained with a runny crimson, stabilizing himself on the headboard with one fist as he kept up his brutalizing pace. He was more beast than man right now. You squealed when he dragged across your sweet spot, making your fluids squelch with every thrust.

Your fingers caressed along his plundering shaft and made their way up your drooling slit to find your nub. You stroked yourself while he pounded you from behind for what felt like an eternity. He finally tensed, grabbing your hips to bury himself fully before shuddering. Your inner thighs that were already soaked in fluid were soiled by the rivulets of hot cum leaking from your tired, overstuffed snatch. The cooling liquids on the sheets were cold against your overheated skin.

His eyes were closed when he filled your core. A low, vibrating moan made its way from his throat, which could be felt against your back. Madara’s hands were everywhere -he petted between your legs and stroked down those limbs and back up to your hips. He licked your earlobes and brought his hands up to wrap around your waist to give you a hard squeeze before fondling your chest and wrapping a paw around your throat. He kissed you passionately, your tongues sparring once more as the sun rose to welcome a new day.

Daylight penetrated through the edges of the curtains to illuminate the room. The aftermath of the night looked like a crime scene. Your naked bodies and faces were covered in palm-width streaks of blood. Hand prints adorned the headboard, the fingerprints clearly discernible between each stain. Thank goodness the headboard was dark leather. It should be washable. The space you were lying on was drenched with dried, dark red pools across the entire bed at crotch level.

You giggled. You love Madara, but he only thinks with his dick once the hormones start running. What were you going to do with your ruined bed sheets and mattress?

[crossroadsnumber1doctor]

alright fuck it not the usual post but this needs to be addressed right now and I'm not about to pussy out even if I'm probably going to be attacked for it.

Now I personally haven't gotten any bad apples over here yet and I'm not going into the specifics but there has been a couple Anons attacking a certain friend of mine and this needs to stop real quick. I know I'm not popular, this likely won't get the reach it needs, but I don't care because atleast someone will see it. Unfortunately no CW tags for this one either because this needs to be seen.

I don't know who you are, of course I don't, but god. You don't just go telling people to off themselves when you don't even know them. Hell, you knew their mental state before that and still went right ahead and told them to, most of the time people don't even know about that before sending dumbass shit like what you said.

And the fact is, you hid yourself behind an Anon instead of just saying out outright. No, Anons aren't cowards like you are. Hell, it's brave in itself to just send a simple ask in my opinion and I'm really grateful of all the wonderful Anons here. But the fact you went ahead and told someone to kill themselves WHILE hiding behind Anon just shows to me how much of a goddamn coward you really are not even being able to muster up the balls to say it on main. To me that just removes any credit or power you could have had.

Yes, life is hard. Yes, in most cases it will get more difficult. But with the help of the people that care about and love you, you can persevere and enjoy those good days or happy moments in life. Hell, one day it won't be as hard as it is. I know that struggle, hell, I struggle with it myself. But I believe in you and that whoever is reading this that you can carry on and work through it, have some fun in the meantime, nothing is worth losing your life over. And to jackasses like that anon.. Perhaps go outside, feel the sun on your skin, breathe in some fresh air and go on a walk. Perhaps after a nice relaxation you'll rethink sending shit like that.

I'm tired, stressed, feel sick, have a headache and just want to go back to sleep for a month. But I can't rest if there's someone out there doing shit like this to the people I care about, nonetheless just enjoy things and pretend that nothing's wrong, not if this is what I keep waking to. I can't do much of comfort myself, but I can speak, and speak I will. So, Anon, either get your shit together or stop being a goddamn coward and show yourself. I don't think any of us want to have to deal with this again.

Apologies if the wording on this is god awful but I do hope that atleast the message got across. I won't be answering asks here for a bit just to make sure that it's seen but feel free to send them in still I suppose.

[ask-the-kid-arven]

*You have received an envelope! How... how did it get there correctly in whichever universe within the multiverse? Who knows. But the front of the envelope reads To [whoever is tagged] and From Kid Arven. It seems to be in near clumsy writing but eligible enough to read. Opening it, will contain a drawing from him that was put a lot of care, love, and effort to… well, you!

((Happy April Fool’s Day! This has taken little more than a week to finish all of these up based on the crayon ask, but I finally gotten them all done! These are a nice treat to show my appreciation to you all! All of y’all are awesome and the coolest people (even if we are friends, this is still valid to you!) that I have met since the start of the blog. So I wished to give my gratitude by doing a fun challenge for myself on making your characters in crayon style of what the kid will do!))

So in order from all of these: @askprofturo​ - Turo

@askaiclavell​ - Ai Clavell

@ask-professor-arven​ - Professor Arven

@ask-directorsada-and-friends​ - Director Sada

@ask-sada-and-turo​ - Teenager Sada and Turo

@askprofessorsada​ - Professor Sada

@askprofessorturo​ - Professor Turo

@ask-zerotrio​ - Clavell 

@asktheprotocol​ - Protocol

@ask-the-giant-professors​ - Giant Sada and Turo

@ask-the-very-real-human-turo​ - Ai Turo/Pawn and Protector

@askturo​ - Sluro and Arven

@ask-sada​ - Post-Violet Sada

@teraprofs​ - Tera Turo

((I hope that you all like it in this silly yet fun day!))

[zoesmp4]

GLITCH “we were supposed to be just friends.” carl grimes x fem!reader

tags: a little bit of angst but mostly fluff, has mentions of death, lowercase intended!!

a/n: kinda based on glitch by taylor swift. this is my first fic so i apologize if it’s bad!!

it was never supposed to end up like this. oh no, not even remotely close. when you first arrived to alexandria, with your jagged cuts and discolored bruises scattered across your body, majority of your hope was lost. all of the important people in your life seemed to just fade away, and you couldn’t do anything about it.

you would spend your days sat beneath a tree, idling away the hours reading your beloved comics. you enjoyed the isolation, it provided you with a slight sense of comfort. that was the case until one particular day. you made your way over to your special spot, freezing in your tracks when you saw him. carl grimes.

he was sitting with his back against your tree. you never really talked to the boy, only spoken to each other once, which was when you first arrived. he was friendly and seemed like a nice kid, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to talk to anyone. the fear of getting attached and losing them in the end made you shudder every time you thought of it.

you quietly sat down next to him, not uttering a single word. he looked up from his own comic, shooting you a smile along with a “hey.”

it became a daily occurrence, sitting down next to whoever came first. you two started to talk more, bonding over your love for comics and random things you had in common. you started to open up, a stark contrast to how you normally behaved, and over time a meaningful attachment to each other blossomed.

carl knew and noticed everything about you, from your favorite color down to how your nose lightly scrunched when you felt the slightest bit of discomfort. he brought out a side of you that you thought was gone long ago. he’d changed you for the better, and you were extremely grateful.

at some point however, you started to feel a certain way around carl. you tried to push it away, told yourself you were just being silly. but you knew deep down how you really felt. you had feelings for the pretty boy. hell, you were practically in love.

you told yourself he would never reciprocate the feelings, and tried to forget about it, but it was oh so hard when his arm would brush over yours while walking, when he looked at you with his eyes that resembled the blue flames of a restless fire.

“oh come on! it was one time.” you say, giggling at carl’s joke while walking alongside him. “sure, we’re just gonna forget about all the other times you fell on your face because you don’t look where you’re going.” he says playfully, nudging your shoulder while smiling.

you felt your heart skip a beat, and tried to hide your flustered state. there was a short silence between you two before carl’s footsteps came to a stop. you look at him, eyebrows furrowing with confusion.

“what’s up?” “i- there’s something i haven’t told you.” he says, lowering the volume of his voice. “which is..?” you say, slightly fidgeting with your hands in anxiety, thinking of all the possibilities of what could come out of his mouth.

could it be he wanted to stop hanging out? he wanted space? surely you did something to upset him. negative thoughts ran through your mind, you spacing out in the process. “i like you.” he blurts out, instantly breaking your trance. “huh?” “i said i like you. i really like you.”

it felt as if you couldn’t breathe, the words not coming out of your mouth. you were simply taken aback. carl grimes likes you? he must be joking. “i- is this a joke? it must be. you’re really funny carl, seriously best joke of the ye-”

he cuts you off by smashing his soft lips against your mildly chapped ones. he cups your face with his cold hands, the feeling of his lips upon yours felt like a dream. it didn’t feel real, as if it were a glitch.

your lips were locked on each others for what seemed like ages before you two had to pull away to take a breath. carl took your hand in his, rubbing circles onto your palm as you two made eye contact. “believe me now?” he says, smiling as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “hmm, not quite. think i need a round two.” “smart girl.” he says before leaning in once again.

@p1stach1oss saw first <3