#ARE YOU KIDDING ME 2021 I'M THAT BEHIND??? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fangirl-dot-com · 5 months

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Lewis Hamilton and George Russel - I'm with a Knight and Slenderman, No One Can Touch Me

It’s part 4 time! This was so fun to write and I laughed so hard at some parts. I feel like George is a really underrated driver. He’s funny and a good person (even though he looks like Woody from Toy Story). And the girlfriend effect has hit him hard. His hair is so beautiful and I need to know what he does with his bangs.

And then Sir Lewis – good Lord, he needs to go back to that one hairstyle from that one interview that made everyone fall for him

Specially dedicated to @treehouse-mouse <3

[TAG LIST IS CLOSED]

Like always, comments, questions, concerns, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated! Love you all <;3

“Shit,” you muttered as you looked around the now empty paddock. You knew that taking a nap after your media duties had been done was a bad idea. You had played nap roulette with yourself and were now paying the consequences. You shouldn’t have said “oh, I won’t set an alarm. Someone will come get me. I might nap for ten minutes or it might be 3 hours. Who knows!”

Well, now you knew. It was three hours.

You looked around for your backpack that you had come with. But as your eyes danced around the garage, it was nowhere to be found. You sighed as you at least remembered your phone. But alas, the world hated you for being a woman: your phone was dead.

“Ok, there’s no reason to panic. Let’s head to the parking lot and see if someone is still here,” you whispered to yourself. Walking carefully, you exited the dark paddock. The parking lot was no different.

Dark, cold, and empty.

“Great. Just great.” You decided to sit on a curb and wait. Maybe by now, Christian or Max would know that you are missing, and will come back to get you.

Or maybe they were mad at you. Yes, you were on the podium. As a rookie. At your first race.

But you made a mistake that costed the team a 1-2 finish. Maybe you didn’t deserve to be looked for.

Before your thoughts could spiral more, two bright headlights blinded you. You raised a hand to try to cover at least some of your face. The two front doors of the car swung open. Your heart started to race.

It was just you out here and they might be kidnappers.

“Please I have no money on me. Don’t beat me up or kidnap me. Trust, you do not want to sell me or anything like that,” you spoke out, trying to hinder their unknown wants for you. Your fear slowly melted away at a familiar grandpa laugh and bean-pole build of the two figures.

“Lewis! George!” You stood up quickly.

“What are you doing out here?” George peered down. Your neck was bent to even look up at him.

“Um. I might have been left behind because I was taking a nap. And my phone is also dead.” You sheepishly grinned at the two.

Lewis sighed before bringing out his phone. “I don’t have Christian’s number, but Toto does. Let me give him a call.”

Your head cocked. “Do you not have Max’s number?” George let out a laugh.

“Kid. Think of Abu Dhabi 2021.” Your eyes widened.

“Sorry.”

Lewis waved you off and walked a bit aways to hear Toto. George just kind of stared at you as you stared at him.

“Are you ok?”

“Of course I’m ok. I’m with a knight,” you pointed at Lewis, “and Slenderman. No one can touch me.” You crossed your arms before giggling. George just gawked at your boldness. You took this time to look at the nice Mercedes in front of you. “Is this the new model?”

George nodded. “Yeah, Lewis just got it. He won’t let me drive it though.” A pout formed on his lips.

“I get what you mean. Max won’t let me drive his Ferrari.”

“Why would you want to drive that junk?”

Your head tilted. “I don’t know. I like my Porsches better though.” It was George’s time to raise an eye brow. “I haven’t gotten them yet. But they’ll be ready soon. I had to ship one to London and the other to Monaco.”

“Ah.”

You looked at Lewis, who was still on the phone. You had an idea.

A very bad one, but an idea none-the-less.

“You wanna go somewhere?” You pointed at the still running car. Lewis should have taken the keys.

“Where would we go?” George was already grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“There’s a burger king a couple of miles away.”

George was already climbing into the driver’s side. “Let’s get going!”

Back with Lewis, he was still on the phone. For some reason, Toto would still not give him Christian’s number.

“Please Toto, I am with two children,” he pinched his brow, “and I’m tired and I’d like to get back to the hotel. So please send me Max’s or Christian’s number.” He wasn’t aware of his car that was now filled with said two children making their getaway. He hung up once he got Max’s number.

His phone rang for a few seconds before Max’s voice sounded over the background noise of a party.

“Who is this?”

“It’s Lewis. You left your kid here.” He heard Max curse on the other side.

“I thought Vito was getting her, but Vito is right at the bar. Can you send me your location so I can pick her up?”

Lewis waved a hand, even though Max couldn’t see it. “No worries, I can just drop her off. I’m with George and we’ll driver her over. I have my-” Lewis stopped.

“Lewis? Are you there?”

Lewis’ eyes scanned the now empty parking lot. He groaned. “They took my car!”

Max laughed for a bit before he realized that Lewis wasn’t playing. “Send my your location, I’m already out the door. We’ll find them.”

By the time Max got to Lewis, you and George were already having the time of your lives.

You pointed out the window. “Look Georgie. Traffic cones. Have you ever put one on your head?”

When George denied that he had, you gasped and told him to pull over. You and him climbed out of the low car and walked over to the traffic cones. By now, your phone was a bit charged, courtesy of the charger in the vehicle. And it was blowing up.

But you didn’t see it or care.

You picked up one of the cones and put it on your head. Your giggle resonated through it.

“Y/n, smile!” You heard George say. You smiled, even though it wouldn’t be seen under the orange hat.

George told you that he was going to set up the camera to take a picture of the two of you.

“Let’s put our heads together.” The two cones whacked against the other. George had to bend over so that they would be close.

You laughed as your hair was staticky due to the cone. George’s hair was the same, which made you laugh even harder. “Send that to me, I’m going to post in on the gram.”

The only notification you looked at was the one from George with the picture. Quicky uploading it, you knew you were about to create even more chaos.

The two of you decided to sit on the curb for a bit. Your thoughts from earlier quickly sprang into your head, due to the silence between you two.

“George?” you questioned, looking ahead. He was currently scrolling through his phone, but he made a noise to let you know that he was listening.

“What was it like having a teammate that you know you’ll never amount to? Not saying that you won’t amount to Lewis at some point, but,” you trailed off, not knowing how to continue.

The click of his phone let you know that George was now focused on the conversation.

“I get what you mean. It’s very overwhelming. You get put up with world champions, and people are already expecting you to beat records and perform as well as they do.” George sighed as he reflected on his first year with Mercedes. How the people would taunt that he wasn’t good enough to be Lewis’s teammate and that he should just be second fiddle to him. Suddenly, he noticed a hand had been placed on his shoulder. Tears also wetted his face.

When had he started crying?

You continued to rub his shoulder until his tears stopped.

You tried to console him. “Well, we can be second-fiddle buddies together?” you offered, hoping he would laugh. And he did.

The two of you decided to sit on the curb for a few more minutes. But at this point, you knew that Lewis along with Max were probably on their way to get you. You pulled yourself up, then held out a hand to George, who took it without second thought.

Before you knew it, the two of you were back in the car, just chilling.

“Look what Max and Lewis are saying.” You showed him the screen and laughed. It really was fun to mess with old men.

“Are we still going to burger king?”

You nodded your head. “If Lewis can be a knight, I need a crown to be the king.”

“Don’t you mean queen?” he asked as he started the car back up again.

“Nope.” You popped the P and that was a good enough answer. George pulled away from the side of the street and made his way to the Burger King. The two of you were thankful that it was mostly empty, except for the employees. The two of you ordered more than enough food for two people. You justified it as giving the workers more money.

Your companion went along with it.

“Order number 69,” the tired lady called out. George and you shared a look before the two of you collapsing on the ground, dying with laughter and probably exhaustion. You were still giggling as you took the food from the lady. You muttered a thank you before you and George took a table near the back.

“Did you get your slushie?” you questioned, holding your cup.

“I didn’t know they had slushies!”

You took George’s hand and let him over to the machine. The amount of slushies that you slurped down would never be recorded. As you drank one of your last ones, you suddenly remembered an important detail.

You looked over at the tired lady who took your order. “Do you have the crowns?”

Max was still constantly trying to reach you, with one hand on the steering wheel and his phone in the other.

“Come on kid. Pick up,” he pleaded and cursed when the call went to voicemail for the umpteenth time that night.

Lewis was texting all the drivers in the group chat, asking if they’d seen the two of you. They came up short.

“This is ridiculous,” Max seethed. “How could you have let them do this?”

Lewis shot him a glare. “How could you leave her at the paddock after dark?” he bit back.

“Like I said, Vito was supposed to take her back to the hotel. She’s not allowed in the clubs.”

“Then Christian should find some way for everyone to party. The kid got a podium her first race as a rookie, and she was left behind.”

Max banged his head on the steering wheel as they stopped at a red light. Lewis was correct. He wondered if you felt forgotten. Knowing you, you probably did. And it was mostly his fault. He’d talk to Christian about alternatives until you turned legal age.

“I’ll talk to Christian about that. What were you and George doing back at the paddock anyway?”

Lewis grimaced. “I forgot a file back at our garage. George seemed antsy and restless so I invited him. Never doing that again.”

Max smirked, “Kids. Am I right?”

“Look!” Lewis pointed at a familiar car in the parking lot of an empty Burger King. Max pulled in on two wheels. As they walked up, their eyes landed on two people, crowns on their heads, hands flailing.

Max pushed the door open and stopped towards the figures. His hands landed aggressively on the table. “Do you two know how much trouble you’re in.”

He heard laughing from behind him.

“Max. That’s not them,” Lewis whispered.

Max’s head jerked and saw the scared faces of two employees. He heard more laughing and whipped his head around, eyes finally falling on you and George, whose phone was out recording. You looked as if you were about to explode with laughter.

“I’m sorry about that.” He turned around and stomped towards your table. “Let’s try this again.”

His palms hit the correct table this time. “Do the two of you know how much trouble you are in?” He looked into your eyes before glancing at George.

You stared up at the seething Dutchman. You pulled out a french fry.

“Fry?”

“Lewis, I got you an impossible whopper.” George held out the wrapped food.

Max sighed, anger waning by the minute. There was no fighting with the two of you. The two adult-figures sat down and started to eat. Max munched on a fry as Lewis started to eat the burger.

You and George continued to talk about your so-called adventures.

“And then George ran a red light.”

Lewis choked as George winced. Lewis’s head jerked toward George, eyes squinting.

“You’re paying for that.” George only shrugged, he had enough money anyway.

Max just stared in silence, mulling over the exhausting night. You could sense that he was still cooling off, and you were scared of what he might say in the car.

The food was quickly finished and the four of you were headed out the door. It seemed as though yours and George’s energy levels were quickly tanking as the two of you barely said a goodbye. The hug and faux tears though were enough for Lewis and Max to roll their eyes.

You watched as George and Lewis left in the Mercedes. You gulped as you got into the passenger side of Max’s rental vehicle. You winced at the proximity.

You mind quickly went back to your dad. How he’d hit the side of your face if you did anything that was “out of line.” Or he’d pinch your thigh until it bruised. Those were the easiest to hide. When your face was a little too red and purple, your helmet stayed on for the entire race day.

Your eyes welled with tears at the thought of Max turning out to be like him. You didn’t think he would, but you were out of line tonight.

No fun. No sneaking out. No stealing (borrowing) cars.

You were sinking into yourself, and Max could sense that.

He turned to look at you. What he said next was shocking.

“I’m sorry kid.”

Your eyes bulged. “Why are you sorry? If anything, I should be on my knees begging for your forgiveness.”

Max just stared at you before slowly putting his hand near your head.

This was it. He was going to hit you and you’d have to live through everything again. You couldn’t tell Christian that his golden-child would do such a thing. And no one would ever believe you.

You jerked back as your eyes closed tight. Your body tensed, waiting for the repercussion to your actions. Your breaths got a little bit faster and shorter.

But it never came.

All that was, was a gentle placed hand on the top of your head.

Comforting. Loving. Cherishing.

Max wanted to cry as he saw how your body prepared for something horrible. Something nasty.

“Kleintje,” Max breathed out.

Your tears began to make their escape down the hills of your cheeks. You could only repeat and whisper I’m sorry, over and over again. Max couldn’t do anything but wait for you to calm down and maybe tell him what was racing through your head.

Your breathing evened out as you felt there was nothing coming. Soon you were embarrassed for thinking that Max, one of the only people to seem to care about you, would do such a thing. Yet, your mind always went back to your patterns.

People who should care, didn’t. Hands that were made for comforting, didn’t. Encouragements didn’t exist…for you.

Maybe you were the problem.

But, maybe you weren’t. You’d allow some comfort, just this once.

Max cooed as you leaned into his hand. He knew you were tired. A long day of racing and a long night of adventures would really do that to you.

He didn’t expect you to explain to so quickly. But you knew how to surprise someone.

“My dad and mom, weren’t the nicest. They wanted a boy, got me instead.” You harshly exhaled. “They put me in karting because if they had had a boy, they would have done the same. I was just a placeholder.”

Max listened, wanting to hear what you said.

“It started off small. A push here, a hit to the helmet there. I really didn’t think anything of it. Until I was about 7 and I crashed my kart on the last lap. I was going to win too, but I over compensated and hit the wall. All I remember after that race was my dad grabbing my wrist and yanking me to the car. I hit my head on the dash, I think. Or he was the one to push my head in.” You shrugged at the nasty memory, as if it didn’t matter.

Max on the other hand, was getting angrier. Yes, his dad did similar things, but he was a boy. He could stand up for himself. And he had his mom and sister.

You had no one.

“The next morning, I woke up and there was this giant bruise on my face and smaller ones littered my arms. I thought that was the end of it, except it continued. I was able to hide it pretty well. My race suit pretty much covered everything. I also didn’t have many friends, or, I just didn’t have friends. So there, wasn’t a need to worry. They stopped after I made it to the end of F4, because I was winning and there were more cameras. The moment I made it to F3 in 2019, they disowned me.”

He did the math. You would have been 16 at the time. Still a kid, but smaller. His heart broke for you.

“Kid, look at me.”

You turned your head and made eye contact. Your brows furrowed when you saw tears in his eyes.

He wasn’t supposed to cry. Why was he crying?

“I’m crying because no one should ever have to go through something like that.” Oh, you must have said that out loud.

You shrugged once again, “I probably deserved it.”

“No, geitje, no one deserves that. Ever. You didn’t.” You could only nod along. Your eyes were getting tired by the minute. Max could tell so he started the car. He only had one more thing to say. (translation : kid)

“My dad did similar things. But I had people to help me. And I know your dad isn’t around, but Y/n,” he said your name, trying to emphasize that he was serious. “I am here for you. Christian is here for you. Mitch is here and so is Vito. We love you. I’m not a good teammate, and you can see that I’ve gone through more teammates than anyone else has in the amount of time I’ve been here. I’m the only constant. But I think that we will actually work out. Best duo right?”

For the first time since Burger King, where you and him were still parked, he saw your eyes light up.

You nodded, “Best duo.”

Max finally took that as a sign that you’d be ok for the night. He carefully back the car out and started on the road toward the hotel.

“Do you think Christian will let me come to the club next race.”

Max let out a sarcastic laugh. “Definitely not.”

Your giggles filled the small space. Max’s heart swelled at making you laugh.

You’d be all right. He’d make sure of it.

AN: oh my gosh that got REAL depressing – I apologize. But, Max needed to know a bit more about your lore if he’s going to be able to fend off any unwanted visitors (FORESHADOWING). Anyway, I will see you all at the next chapter! Muah! Much love <3 – author :D

Tag List : @awekbachira @lightdragonrayne @leilanixx @angsthology @topguncultleader @landosgirlxoxo @gods-menace @itsjustkhaos @thefandomswhre @alwaysboredsworld @vellicora @bintuabbas @sam-is-lost @empress-kimiko @assholeinatrenchcoat @kagatinkita @glitterquadricorn @zyonsay @tsukishimawhore @ashy-kit @agent-curt-mega @julesbabey @lydialawrence @stopeatread @claudia5912 @nichmeddar @blueberry64857959 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @leptitlu @alessioayla @badassturtle13 @kaaale @wcnorris @cool-ultra-nerd @hockeyboysarehot @agent-curt-mega @myxticmoon @cmleitora @sam-is-lost @misartymis @boiohboii @alexander-hamilhoe @jayda12 @indesicivelyconfuzzled @fangirl125reader @itscrzy @xcharlottemikaelsonx @fionaschicken @torchbearerkyle @ineedafictionalman @loaksmuntxa @classiclitfreak @sarcasm-ismy-onlydefense @luisie @jayda12 @comfortzonequeen @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @inejghafawifesblog

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chimcess · 3 months

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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

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fettuccin-e · 1 year

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As Long As I Want

so yeah i may have not posted a fic in two months and WHATABOUTIT no i'm kidding i'm really sorry for the little hiatus!! my pedro pascal obsession circa 2021 has relapsed and i'm terribly sorry lol so yeah pls enjoy this short little fic that is only about sucking frankie's dick

Tags: Frankie "Catfish" Morales x Reader, fem!reader, oral (m!recieving), size kink, deep throating, this is so nasty lol (w/c: 1.5K)

Francisco Morales is a pretty unassuming man. He’s tall and lumbering, but his patchy beard and ever-present baseball cap allow him to sink into the background of most things, which is exactly where he likes to be. He isn’t a standout, he knows that, and he’s plenty content with it. As long as you love him, he’s just fine.

And you do, god, you love him. You try to tell him constantly, try to express how fucking hot you find him, even if he shrugs you off with a shy chuckle and a blush on his scruffy cheeks. With his pretty dark eyes and soft hair, how he towers over you and how his broad chest presses against your back when he hugs you from behind, and when he fucks you from behind. Frankie is, by far, the sexiest man you’ve ever seen, and somehow, he’s yours.

And, as unassuming as he is, Frankie also has the fattest, biggest cock you’ve ever seen.

He hides it behind baggy jeans and boxers, but you pride yourself on being very, very familiar with it. It took the first six months of your relationship to take it all the way into your cunt, the thickness of it stretching you till you thought you were bound to break, the length of it bullying so deep you thought you would feel it in your fucking throat. Even now, four years later, you still need to be prepared thoroughly before taking Frankie, a process that he takes great joy in.

Frankie will spend hours between your thighs, sucking at your clit and fucking you open on his calloused fingers until you’re sobbing and shaking. He loves to pull your thighs apart when you try to close them, keeping you wide open and dripping for him. You beg for him to fuck you, that you’re ready, but Frankie also loves to ignore you, content to keep lapping at your twitching cunt, murmuring a, “quiet, princesa, I’m working.” You want to strangle him.

You also love him so much that it hurts sometimes.

He’s perfect, everything is perfect, except for the fact that, although he’ll spend an entire night eating your pussy like a man starved, he won’t let you return the favor. You can count the amount of times in four years that Francisco Morales has let you suck his cock on one hand, and you wouldn’t even use all of your fingers. Whenever you’re between his legs, working him between your lips, inch by thick inch, he always wrenches you off him with a grip in your hair, before he bends you over and fucks you until your pussy is gaping and your brain is mush.

But you know you’ve got him this time. His hands are bound with a silky scarf around the head board, the pinkness of his blush spreading down to his chest as he watches you with heavy eyes.

“Princesa, please, just- you can sit on my face, yeah? And do what you want to me, but baby, I just gotta...I gotta make you feel good, please?” he grunts with that deep voice of his, raspy and needy.

You kiss him softly as a reply, brushing a hand through his soft curls. “Frankie,” you whisper. “I want to suck your cock today. I told you that, baby, didn’t I?” Frankie nods tentatively. You grin at the way his lips part, big eyes watching you like you’ve hung the moon and stars, just for him. “Then you’re going to shut up and let me suck you as long as I want, you got that?”

Frankie nods again, and nearly whines when you pull away from his face, brushing your lips down, down. You lick over the softness of his stomach, around where his cock, throbbing and red and dripping, lays against it. You avoid sucking the sticky tip into your mouth right away, instead moving lower to bite at his quivering thighs. You can hear Frankie’s breaths growing louder, desperate for your touch.

“Please, mi vida,” he whimpers, hips bucking up ever so slightly. His cheeks burn at the sound of his own desperation, but when you smile at him, almost shyly, at his words, it almost becomes worth it.

“Okay, Frankie,” you whisper, and he gasps when you move back up his body, ever so slightly, to lick hungrily over the length of his cock, moaning at the taste.

He groans deep in his throat at the feeling of your hot tongue trailing over the veins and crevices of him, memorizing every thick, throbbing inch. You make your way up until you reach the tip, and, with one final glance at Frankie, his pupils blown wide as he meets your gaze, you close your plush lips around the tip.

Frankie’s back arches, just a bit, off the bed when you suck hard on the tip of his cock, tongue dipping into the slit as you swallow everything he has to give. “Ah- oh God, oh God, por favor, baby,” he whines, not even knowing what he’s begging for from you.

But you know, you always know.

You can’t exactly smile around Frankie’s cock, not with your mouth stretched as wide as it is around the girth of him, but it’s a near thing. You slide down the length of him, tongue running along every new inch you let into your pretty mouth, watching as Frankie’s eyes roll into the back of his head, soft stomach heaving with every labored breath.

You brace yourself with your nails digging into his thighs as you push down even further, the tip of him finally budging into the back of your throat, and though you try to swallow around it, you can’t help but gag a little.

Frankie’s eyes snap open at the feeling and sound, his body going suddenly still. “Baby, do you need to stop? Fuck, you can stop if it’s too much, we can just-” You shake your head gently, not daring to slide him out of your mouth just yet. “Okay, okay, mi vida,” he breathes. “Just, please, I don’t want to hurt you.”

You could never, you want to say, but your mouth is far too preoccupied. Instead, you push just a little further, shoving him just another inch into your drooling mouth.

Frankie never lets you do this, never lets you have your fill, and you’re drunk off the taste of him, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the tip lodges in the back of your throat. And even as it does, even as his fat cockhead makes you choke, you keep sinking down.

He slides deep into the length of your throat, forcing you to breathe through your nose. Your eyes are watering at the stretch of him, your nails digging little indents into his hairy thighs. You fucking love it.

Frankie loves it too, evidently. With every inch, he whines, crying your name in stuttered gasps. You just keep moving, bobbing your head up and down just slightly to get more and more of him in, until you finally, finally, reach the thick base of his cock, the wiry hairs tickling your nose.

“Oh God, fuck princesa, you’re so perfect. Shit, your mouth is so good, you- you’re so good to me, baby, oh fuck, no one’s ever gotten this far, I-I-” he gasps, head thrown back and eyes clenched shut.

Oh. Your head feels like it’s underwater, delirious with the fact that you’re the only one to ever do this for Frankie. The only one that can do this for him.

You gaze up at him, entranced by his sweat-slicked, heaving body, pretty and needy. He blinks his eyes open, looking down at you when you stop moving, utterly still with his cock buried deep inside your throat. You, all pretty with your cheeks flushed and eyes watery, lips stretched wide and sticky and utterly obscene. You gaze back, your stare unrelenting, and suddenly swallow hard around the entire length of him.

Frankie nearly screams at the feeling, completely unreal and new. “Ah- ah!”

And you just keep doing it, bobbing slightly while you milk him with your hot, wet throat. Overwhelmed tears are leaking down Frankie’s face, his hips hitching up just barely to meet the minute movements of your head.

“I- Princesa, I’m gonna- I can’t hold it, ‘m sorry, can’t- it’s so good, too good mi vida, I-”

Frankie tries to pull his hips back, but you hold yourself onto him, keeping him buried within you as he spills hot, sticky cum down your throat.

You keep sucking him, milking him as the last dregs of his orgasm die away, before finally pulling yourself off him.

“Good?” you whisper, you voice sounding raspy and fucking used.

Frankie’s eyes widen in shock. “Good? Holy fucking shit, baby,” he mutters, head thrown back to look up at the ceiling, as if to ask God is she being fucking serious right now?

“You untie me, right fucking now, princesa. I’ll show you how ‘good’ that was. Until you pass the fuck out.”

#i wanna suck his dick SO BAD #ill give him the sloppiest head of his life i stg #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales smut #francisco morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie x reader #triple frontier smut #triple frontier x reader #triple frontier x you

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carlos-in-glasses · 6 months

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Where All This Love Comes From

I'm so excited to share what has been known as Flashback Fic! 107k words, with all 14 chapters here on Ao3, rated E.

Six months after Gabriel Reyes’ death, TK grows concerned about Carlos’ drinking and brings him to a meeting at the Y. Afterwards, over omelets at the diner, the husbands open up to each other. TK reflects on meeting Carlos after years of addiction and self-destruction, while Carlos has continued to seek closure by uncovering two unknowns: The identity of his father’s killer, and how his father truly felt about Carlos as his son.

************************************************

Carlos puts his arms around him from behind and holds him still, kissing his neck. TK tries to twist in Carlos’ grip, but he won’t let him. He starts walking him towards the bedroom. “I’m desperate for you,” TK says, his blood hot, cheeks red, eyes pricking with tears. “I know.” “Make me forget everything.” “I will.” “I only want to think about you.” “You will.” Carlos stops for a breath. He smells TK – his clean hair, his evanesced cologne, his natural man scent, his salty tears that have imbued his skin, the sweat of stress. Sad, but still beautiful to Carlos. TK, delicious. “I never thought I’d have you. I never thought–” he can’t speak anymore.

***********************************************

Chapter 1: A Trail to Follow

In 2023, TK discovers something that triggers memories of heroin withdrawal seven years before – and Carlos makes amends with Gutiérrez after accusing him of his father’s murder.

Chapter 2: A Very Nice Sweater for the 'Y'

TK takes Carlos to the N.A. meeting – but when things don’t go as hoped, he instigates another method to get Carlos talking.

Chapter 3: Snowballing

A messy situation in 2010 causes TK as a high school junior to lash out. In 2023, Carlos realizes it's time to tell TK about one more secret.

Chapter 4: Original Sin

In 2013, Carlos accidentally destroys Gabriel’s oldest friendship. Nine years later, he attempts to make peace after he and TK get engaged.

Chapter 5: Between Two Bridges

In 2022, a grieving and struggling TK is compelled to talk to Owen about his 2020 overdose, which leads him to remember when his addiction nearly killed him years before. In 2023, TK asks Carlos about his history with alcohol. (Note: Chapter features TK using and gets fairly graphic)

Chapter 6: One Tequila, Two Tequila, Three Tequila, Floor

TK and Carlos compare notes on when they first came out – with Carlos spiraling in 2011 after an unexpected outburst, while TK in 2008 is embraced (and embarrassed) by his parents. In 2021, both handle the raw days of their breakup differently too.

Chapter 7: A Boy's Best Friend

In 2009, Gabriel attempts to connect with his increasingly distant and unhappy teenage son. In 2013, the fallout of Carlos leaving Iris has begun, and he knows his relationship with his parents will never be the same. In 2023, TK tries to talk to Gabriel about the bombshell revelation that Carlos doesn’t want kids.

Chapter 8: Your Heart, As If It Was My Very Own

In 2011, TK is left bewildered after he loses his virginity. Years later, with Carlos, TK's mind (among other things) is blown in a whole new way. In 2022, TK has an important conversation with a certain visitor when he wakes from his coma.

Chapter 9: Coffee with Gutiérrez

In September 2023, Carlos seeks an important but painful truth from Gutiérrez, and finds an unexpected ally within the 126. Two months later in Blue Moon Diner, TK gets ready to tell Carlos more about his past in New York.

Chapter 10: The Day Begins Like Any Other

In 2016, after TK experiences an assault and sees an old friend again under devastating circumstances, he makes a life-altering decision when his dealer suggests he try something new. In 2009, TK is attacked at school. (Note: Please heed the tags and the chapter note. Reader discretion advised. Look after your hearts).

Chapter 11: Lonely as a Sparrow in the Rain

When Carlos confesses to TK about where he went with Judd back in September – and why – TK has to tell Carlos something he won't want to hear. In 2014, a rift develops when Carlos shows off his new Camaro to his parents.

Chapter 12: Happy For You, Son

Before moving to Austin, TK falls out with his parents over his relationship with Alex. In December 2020, it's a different story as Carlos hosts Owen and Gwyn for TK's birthday meal. In 2012, Carlos has some unexpected news for his own parents, but Michelle tries to intervene. When TK and Carlos get engaged a decade later, Gabriel has something to say about it.

Chapter 13: The Risk of Love

In May 2023, Owen and TK save a spiraling Carlos from making the biggest mistake of his life when he thinks he’s found his father’s killer. In 2020, TK and Carlos become boyfriends beneath a sky full of aurora borealis.

Chapter 14: A Night Worth Celebrating

On a rainy night in 2020, TK and Carlos meet for the first time. In 2023, weeks after their big talk at Blue Moon, TK celebrates his thirtieth birthday with his husband, their family and their friends by his side – and Carlos is a little bit better at sharing his secrets.

Read on A03

#Where All This Love Comes From #Flashback Fic #cig fic #my fic #Tarlos #tarlos fanfic #tk strand x carlos reyes #I've been working on this since March so I'm beyond delighted and relieved to share it #Thank you so much for reading if you do - I cannot explain how much I appreciate it

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blackelysian · 4 months

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Date Night.

Joey Bada$$ as Jordan x Black! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 2,518

Warnings: 18+ Car sex (unprotected), dirty talk, minor breeding kink, nasty stuff

Summary: You and your husband, Jordan have needed some quality time together without the kids. You guys have a cute little date night and take a little adventure.

AN: I hope you guys enjoy! Im still a baby writer so please be kind. Im still new to this and I don't have a taglist yet. If you like and want to be added lmk! Ok ok Enjoy!

7:24pm

It was Friday night and I was getting ready to go on a date with my husband of 4 years, Jordan. Between the kids and his 80 hour a week job this was some much needed alone time. He took the next two days off and the kids are at his mom's so we basically had the whole weekend to ourselves. I was definitely looking forward to our long weekend together.

After applying the finishing touches to my makeup, I let down my pin curls. I begin fluffing my hair out in the mirror and just looking myself over to see how I looked. I heard a low growl come from the bathroom entrance," Damn sexy". I turn to see my boyfriend standing in the doorway entrance gently biting his bottom lip. I giggled girlishly as he walked over and wrapped his arms around me. He puts his head on my shoulder as I lean back into his chest, my heart begins to flutter. I close my eyes as I take in the scent of his cologne as he gently kisses me on the side of my head.

We stayed that way for a while just gently swaying back and forth. " We gotta' go baby, I really don't want us to miss our reservation". I whined wanting to stay in his arms a little bit longer. I stood up fully and fixed my hair . His hands were on my waist as he watched me through the mirror as I was pouting. He turns me around to face him. With him being a muscular 6'2 he towered over my small, petite frame. He grabs my chin and gently kisses my lips a few times telling me to fix my face. He gives my bottom a gentle pat as I pout. We separated and I quickly put away everything I used for my hair and makeup. I spritzed myself with my favorite Jo Malone perfume and exited the bathroom. I go to the closet strap on my heels, grab my purse and head downstairs.

Jordan was sitting on the couch aimlessly scrolling through his phone. He stops to look at me and smiles. "Ready to go?". I quickly nod my head as he grabs his keys and we head towards the door. I walk out the door and hop into the passenger side of his 2021 Range Rover as he locks up the house. He walks to the car and hops in beside me starting the car. As he backs out of the driveway an incoming facetime call comes through on my phone. I looked down at my phone seeing it was from Jordan’s mom. Probably the kids. I answer with a smile waiting for the call to connect. Once it does my smile brightens seeing their little faces in the camera. Ayla, 6 and JJ, 4. " Hi mommy!" they say in unison.

"Hi babies, what are you guys doing?"

" We made cookies with mimi", JJ says in his little soft voice. Mimi was a name they gave Jordan’s mom, instead of calling her grandma.

"Aww did you make mommy and daddy some?" I say as I fake pout into the camera.

"Yes!" Jayla shouts from behind JJ and holds up the little container with cookies in it.

"Where's daddy? '' she asked as she furrowed her eyebrows.

"I'm right here, im driving right now baby I can't hold the phone." I turned the phone towards Jordan so Ayla could see him. She's such a daddy's girl. A wide smile immediately came across her face.

Jordan glances over and smiles back at her. " Hey babygirl."

JJ pushes his little head back in the camera. " I'm ready to come home!"

I chuckle at him," Come home? You haven't been there that long. You're not having fun at Mimi's house?"

"But I miss you and daddy." The kids are so used to being with us 24/7 they can barely stand to be away from us for a day.

" We aren't coming to get you guys til after the weekend baby. Mommy and daddy are having some alone time." I pout seeing his little sad face.

"It's gonna be okay, when we come and get you guys we can spend all the time you want, okay?" I ask him, giving him a small smile.

"Okay" he says lowly, rubbing his eyes.

"Mommy is gonna call you guys tomorrow, okay I love you two" I blow kisses into the phone.

Jordan says his goodbyes and I hang up the call. " I love our little family baby" Jordan says with a smile as he drapes his arm over the back of my seat, coming to a red light. I look over at him and smile brightly " Me too, thank you for making me a mommy" I lean into the middle console to meet him halfway for what was supposed to be a quick peck but quickly turned into a passionate makeout session. A car beeps the horn from behind us, snapping us away from our moment. Jordan pulls away biting his lip as he pulls off. " Keep kissing me like that and imma give you two more..." he states, lust clear in his tone. I bite my lip and turn to look out the window as we finish making our way to the restaurant.

Once we arrived at the restaurant Jordan helped me out of the car and grabbed my hand as we walked into the restaurant. We were at 'Shoto' which was a brand new Japanese steakhouse by where we lived. I love sushi. Jordan had been trying to get us reservations here for months due to this place being so popular. Finally, he was able to snag one and he surprised me.When we walked in the restaurant was dimly lit with light music playing in the background. We walked up to the hostess stand and were greeted by the host. "Hello, Welcome to Shoto! Can I have a name?" she asks.

“Jordan," He tells the host, gently squeezing my hand.

"Jordan, table for 2 at 8:00pm. Alright, Please follow me" She says with a smile as she grabs two menus and begins to lead us towards our seats.

Once we got to the table a bouquet of roses laid beautifully next to a small tealight candle. “Aw babe, are these for me?” I say, my eyes lighting up.

“Yea gorgeous” He says deeply, looking at me in the most loving and adoring way. He places a tender kiss on my cheek and we both scoot in the booth on the same side, him first. Once we are seated she sets down our menus "Enjoy your meal", she says with a smile before returning to the hostess stand. I looked around at the dimly lit restaurant and smiled.

" You know what you want?" Jordan asks.

"I don’t know” I drag out.

“There's so many options. What about you?"

“I might try these Wagyu tacos.” He turns to look at me. “Or I can just eat you” He says in a deep but hushed tone. My jaw drops as I smack his shoulder.

“Baaabe” I giggle and he winks at me.

Soon after the waiter walks up to take our orders.

"Hello, My name is Austin, I'll be taking care of you two tonight. Can I start you two off with some drinks?"

"Hmmm, I want to try the passionfruit martini please?", I say, dragging out the E.

"I'll take the old fashioned", Jordan says, as I instantly scrunched my face at his drink selection. "Eww babe whiskey, gross"

"I'm a man baby, I don't like that fruity shit", He says, looking at me as he strokes his beard.

“And… you love it when I drink brown” He winks at me again, this time sending a chill down my spine. God why was this man so fine! I look him up and down with a slight smirk.

Just as I was about to respond, the waiter came back with our drinks. "Here you are." he says, setting down our drinks. "Ready to order?" We both nod our heads. I ordered the spicy tuna rolls and Jordan settled for the Wagyu tacos.

"Alrighty, it should be out soon." The waiter says and walks away.

"That's all you want? Don't be asking for any of my food when it comes" He says with a playful mug on his face, sipping his drink.

"Boy, you know you goin feed me some anyways" I chuckle. He smacks his lips and smiles "You don't know me girl"

I playfully scoff " Please I know you better than you know yourself" I say with a smirk, now looking at him.

He starts stroking his beard again causing me to bite my lip at him. " Is that right?" His deep, raspy voice caused a slight trickle in my panties. "Mhmm" I hummed, taking a sip of my drink. I playfully rolled my eyes at him, trying to be serious to hold back the sexual tension that was slowly rising.

"You know ima always share with my baby" He leans over and kisses the side of my head and I smile.

After about 20 minutes we finished our drinks and the waiter started bringing out our food. He also brought us another round of drinks. " These are on the house", He states with a wink. "Enjoy, let me know if you need anything." He smiles and leaves us to eat our meal. A comfortable silence fell over us as we ate and finished our drinks. Him gripping my thigh from time to time and little whispers in my ear just heightened the sexual tension even more. I ended up getting another order of sushi and we got cheesecake for dessert. After the bill came we were good and full and feeling our drinks. I could tell Jordan was just eager to get me back to the car at this point.

As he pulled out his cash to pay the bill I reapplied my lipgloss, quickly checking myself in my mini compact mirror he got me for my birthday before putting everything back in my purse. He looks over at me "Ready to go, pretty girl?". My heart flutters at the given nickname.

I drunkenly nod my head, slinging my purse over my shoulder and sliding out of the booth. He follows suit as he throws his arm around me and we walk towards the door. Once we get back into his car, he starts it up and slouches back in the seat looking at me. He reaches for the pre-rolled blunt he had sitting in the ashtray. He lights it before cracking the sunroof and pulling off. As we are riding I casually scroll through his phone looking for the next song to play. The warm night time breeze from outside coming in through the sunroof felt good on my melanated skin. Just as I made my song selection, his hand found my leg, his fingertips drawing small circles on my inner thigh, inching closer and closer to my womanhood. I look out the window and see that we weren’t on our usual route home.

“Where are we going?” I questioned, a look of confusion on my face.

“We goin make a stop real quick” He says, finishing the blunt and tossing the roach out the window.

A few minutes go by and I see we are pulling onto a back road that leads us to a cliff with an amazing view of the city. He puts the car in park, reclining his seat a little.

“Wow this is so pretty baby, I didn’t even know we had anything like this here.” I say in awe.

“I thought it would be a perfect way to end the night.” He shifts to look at me, biting his lip.

“You goin 'come get in my lap?” He slurs in a lustful tone.

I smirk and slide my panties off and toss them in the backseat.

I crawl over the middle console and straddle his lap. His hands instantly found my ass of course. By me wearing a short skirt, it sat slightly above my ass, giving him easier access to slide his hands under there. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he pokes out his lips, asking for a kiss which I gladly gave him. It didn't take long for the kiss to start to turn steamy. I moaned into his mouth as our tongues fought for dominance.

I pulled away slowly, taking his bottom lip with me. " Mm" he groans as I feel him grow underneath me. He takes a hand grabbing my neck bringing me back into his lips. He uses his free hand to hook my panties to the side, slowly rubbing up and down my slit. I lightly moan against his lips as he continued to get me worked up.

He removes his lips from mine and starts trailing open-mouthed kisses down my neck, stopping and slowly sucking on my spot.

"Damn baby" he groans, slowly sliding two fingers inside of me.

"Mm.. Jordannn" I cry throwing my head back, the squishing sounds becoming louder.

"You've been lookin good all night, I couldn’t wait to get my hands on your pretty ass" He smirks, curving his fingers up and grazing my spot causing me to lean forward into him.

"Oh fuck" My eyes closed tightly as I grind into his fingers.

"Yeah?" he asks in his low, raspy voice. "Sss..shit baby" I whine. " Im gonna cum" I pant.

“Not yet baby, I want you to cum on my dick while I make love to your beautiful ass in front of this beautiful ass view” he says, sliding his fingers out as he unbuckles his belt. His eyes never leaving mine. He slides his pants and boxers down, revealing his already rock hard member. I kiss him sloppily as I slide down on him. We both groan, instantly getting into our own little rhythm.

“Ohh shit” he stuttered, throwing his head back. I grab onto his shoulders and grind down on him. He grabs my waist and drives straight to my spot. The sounds of our love making over powering the music playing.

“Talk to me baby” he pants, slapping my ass.

“Fuckk you feel soo good papa” I moan out girlishly.

“Yeah? You like the way im fucking you baby?”

“Oh shitt YES!” I scream, feeling an orgasm brewing. My walls contract around his member in my attempt to hold back my orgasm. I spin around on him reverse cowgirl and start to bounce up and down on him.

“Shit, I'm about to give you another baby” He says lowly, placing kisses down my spine and wrapping one hand around my neck. I look back at him in a seductive gaze “Give it to me papa”.

I could see all the love in his eyes as we released in sync. Quiet I love yous leave our lips as we both come down from our high.

“I hope you know i'm not done with you yet”....

#joey bada$$ × black!reader #black reader #black fanfic writer #black fanfiction #black smut #black stories #fanfiction

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sebscore · 11 months

Text

FOR THE HOPE OF IT ALL | SEBASTIAN V. & LEWIS H.

pairings: lewis hamilton x fem!reader / sebastian vettel x fem!reader (with a lovely cameo from Markus Webber)

warnings: swearing. implied infidelity.

time stamp: june 21, 2021

author's note: this is an INTRODUCTORY chapter so certain things won't make sense now, but they will make sense later, luvies !! anyway- im so excited about this revamp and i hope old gentle hit readers will like it as well <3

masterlist

• • • • • • •

''I don't know what you're doing out here, there aren't any courts around.''

Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me.

Y/N glanced up from her phone, being met with the smiling face of Sebastian- a sight she had been able to ignore the ongoing weekend.

''The courts don't need me today.'' Her words came out more passive aggressive than she had meant to, but the German driver's sudden appearance caught her off guard. ''Don't you think I should be asking you what you're doing here? I'm afraid you're in the wrong garage.'' She plastered a fake smile on her face, something Sebastian noticed in an instant.

''Yeah, I, uh, wanted to talk to Lewis.'' He explained, leaning his arm on the wall.

The Frenchwoman looked to where her partner was standing, deep in conversation with Bono and Angela. ''He's a little busy right now.''

''It seems so,'' he didn't glance over Lewis, his eyes staying on her, ''it's been a while since I've seen you.'' Sebastian stated, resting his head against his arm.

Y/N nodded. ''Yeah, that's true. My schedule hasn't been working out too well with all the races this year.'' Her tennis tournaments and Lewis' races had been coinciding rather too much in her opinion. She felt guilty that she couldn't be there to support her boyfriend as much as he had been there for her.

''That's too bad, but you've been doing really well this year.'' He told her, unconsciously admitting that he had been keeping tabs on her season.

The tennis player raised her eyebrow, a little surprised at the unexpected compliment. ''Well, I appreciate that,'' she thanked him, ''although, I hope you're not stalking me.'' Despite the sarcastic tone in her voice, there was a truth to her words.

''I've always been a fan, you know that.'' The Aston Martin driver retorted.

Y/N let out a sigh. ''You're not here to see Lewis, are you, Sebastian?'' He got goosebumps as his name left her lips, lots of time had passed since the last time that happened.

''The word was going around that you were here, wanted to see it with my own eyes.'' Sebastian revealed his real reason for his appearance at the Mercedes garage.

The woman in front of him had an unimpressed look on her face. ''That's the kinda gossip everyone discusses here? It really gets more boring with each year that goes by.'' If her attendance was the biggest topic of the day, she didn't have very high hopes for the other ''gossips'' that went around the paddock.

''I mean- you've always been the talk of the town here, haven't you?'' The comment made her cringe, a hard time controlling her facial expressions. ''And normally you make these grand entrances so people weren't too sure whether you were actually here or not.''

''I'm here for Lewis.'' Y/N stated, a bigger meaning behind her words than seemed on the surface.

Sebastian let out a weird mix between a scoff and a chuckle, momentarily glimpsing at the ground. ''I don't doubt that you're here for Lewis, Y/N.''

He lied, he did doubt it. Many events had transpired between the pair for him to doubt her intentions and support for his longtime rival and eventually turned friend. Or in other words, Sebastian was convinced he had every right to raise his suspicions over Y/N and Lewis' relationship.

''Can we not do this now?'' She didn't have the energy or interest to engage in a conversation with Sebastian about the obvious elephant in the room.

The German had an answer ready, but was interrupted by a curious Brit approaching them. ''Hey, Seb! How are you, man?'' Lewis greeted him, holding out his fist.

Sebastian quickly dropped the agitated expression on his face, wearing a soft smile instead. ''I'm good, and you?''

''Yeah, I'm good- feeling ready for today.'' Lewis was blissfully unaware of the tension in the air, happily grinning while putting an arm around his girlfriend's waist. ''Good conditions, I think it's going to be a nice race.''

''I think so too, looked really good out there.'' The younger man confirmed his words, glancing in-between the couple.

Lewis nodded to what he was saying. ''Where are you starting again?'' The Mercedes driver asked, forgetting where his friend had ended up in qualifying.

''Oh, P12.'' Sebastian quickly answered.

''Well, I know you're gonna do great, man.'' Lewis had felt bad for the man, going from a top team to one that could barely make it into Q2. However, he knew Seb and that he would extract everything he could from his car.

An appreciative smile appeared on the driver's face. ''Thank you, Lewis.''

''So, uh, what were you guys talking about?''

How his ''friend'' is here to see me and not you.

A small panic flashed through Sebastian's eyes as he looked at Y/N who seemed more calm about her boyfriend's curiosity. ''Apparently, my attendance today has been the talk of the paddock so far.'' She chuckled, her eyes on Lewis.

The 7x World Champion giggled at her answer, squeezing her hip. ''Really? That sounds like my girl.''

Sebastian observed the way they were wrapped up in each other, an ugly feeling resting in his stomach. He hated how natural it looked for them, how easy it was for them to show affection. Above all, Sebastian secretly despised the way she had her eyes set on her partner. She looked enthralled by Lewis as if he was the only person in the world at that moment.

He despised it, because that is how the woman's eyes used to stare at him.

The best word to describe Sebastian and Y/N's history was complicated, and even that term didn't do their relationship justice.

They first met in 2008 at the Italian Grand Prix where Sebastian took his first ever Formula 1 race win. She had been invited by his French teammate to the Toro Rosso garage, ultimately bumping into the 21 year-old German.

It didn't take them too long to become close friends; they share a birth year, both are incredibly passionate about their sport and the two of them have a special talent in pushing other people's buttons in a charming way.

It almost seemed like a cheesy rom com where the two protagonists meet and despite their different careers, they fall in love and live happily ever after.

However, there is a huge emphasis on the word 'almost', because in a traditional rom com the male protagonist doesn't have a long term girlfriend who he swore he was going to marry someday. In an ideal world, that's where their story should have ended.

But this isn't an ideal world.

''He's here for you,'' she pointed from Sebastian to Lewis, ''so I'll leave you two.'' Sebastian wanted to protest, suggesting to leave himself, but she was already making her way to Tiffany who was standing on the opposite side of the garage.

Sebastian's eyes followed her steps, swiftly turning his head once Lewis started speaking. ''What's up, man?''

''Nothing, I just, uh, wanted to, uh,'' the German figured he should have come up with at least a probable excuse to talk to Lewis before coming to the Mercedes camp, ''there's, uh, this new project I'm working on and I would love to talk to you about it, but maybe we can do it another time, I think we, uh, have to get ready.'' He rambled on, simply wanting to go back to his own team.

''Yeah, that's alright. I can't wait to hear what you've been developing!'' The Brit knew that whatever his friend had been planning, would be a great success and he felt touched that Seb wanted to share his ideas with him.

Sebastian put up a happy facade to hide his discomfort, ''Thanks,'' guilt crept up on him at the sight of Lewis' genuine excitement over the mere talk about something he had been working on, ''I have to go now, but I'll see you out on track.''

They shared a small hug, patting each other on the back. ''Yeah, good luck, man.'' They bid each other goodbye, each resuming their own pre-race routine.

Y/N has subtly observed the conversation between the two world champions, trying hard not to show her satisfaction at the visible nerves on Sebastian's face and the awkwardness in his behaviour.

''By the way, I really like your outfit today. It looks great on you.'' Tiffany complimented her, shifting the athlete's focus from Lewis to the Australian cyclist. ''Thank you, I absolutely love your dress! Black really suits you.'' Y/N returned the favour, scanning the woman's dress.

''Thank you so much, I wasn't too sure about-''

''Sorry, Tiff! Can I borrow her for a second?'' Lewis interrupted her, his arms instinctively finding their way around her.

Tiffany pretended to be offended, but excused them. ''I'll go find my own man.'' She winked, walking over to where Valtteri was getting ready for the race.

''Seb said that he wanted to talk about some project he had been working on, and I was thinking that maybe we could go and have drinks with him later tonight? Maybe invite Val and Tiffany as well? I don't know, what do you think?''

Y/N took in his words, pretending to deeply think about it while already knowing she would not let that happen. ''A project? Did he say what it is about?'' She asked him, attempting to stretch the time she had to think about how she could politely tell Lewis she did not want to get drinks with the Aston Martin driver.

''He didn't tell me, he said he would tell me after the race.'' Her partner answered, a slight pout on his face.

Probably something about his bees.

The younger woman nodded, a bit confused on why Sebastian wouldn't just tell Lewis. ''That's, uh, too bad.'' She noted.

''So what do you think? You think it's a good idea?'' Lewis asked once again, looking her in the eyes, wanting her validation that it was a great suggestion.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. ''Yeah, it's been a while since we've done something with Val and Tiff alone.'' She realised she had to consider Lewis' feelings and if he wanted to get drinks with his friend, he should be able to, even if she didn't like it.

''I'll suggest it to him when we're done here today,'' he pulled her closer, kissing her temple, ''I have to get ready now. I love you, darling.'' A peck on the lips and Lewis approached Angela who was keeping hold of his gear.

The race itself wasn't that eventful beside a podium for Lewis. She proudly watched him with the rest of the Mercedes team as he stood on the second top step, sending him a wink and a flying kiss.

Afterwards, they met up with each other in his driver's room. ''Mon chéri!'' Y/N embraced him, a strong hold on him. ''I know it's not the result you were hoping for, but I'm proud of you either way.'' She cupped his cheeks, hating the disappointment in his eyes.

''Thank you, love.'' Lewis gave her a quick peck, knowing she isn't a fan of his sweaty form after his races. ''I still have the debrief with the team, but after that we can go and have those drinks.''

''Have you, uh, invited them yet?'' She referred to Sebastian, Valtteri and Tiffany.

He shook his head. ''No, but I'm gonna ask Val now and I'll ask Seb afterwards.''

''That's great.'' She said through gritted teeth. Y/N had a small hope that Lewis had been able to ask Sebastian already, and that the German had cancelled or had come up with a believable excuse as to not having to go.

Lewis pointed to his changing area. ''I'm gonna get out of this and then I'm on my way, darling.'' His champagne covered racing suit started to give him claustrophobia.

''Okay,'' she smiled at him, ''you know what? I'm going to take a little walk around the paddock, cause I saw Mark earlier and I didn't have the chance to say hi.'' Y/N used to be a Red Bull athlete for almost ten years, making her an old regular of the Red Bull Racing garage. That's also the place where she became great friends with the Australian driver.

''That's lovely, I'll text you as soon as I'm done, alright?'' Lewis grinned, delighted to hear she wasn't just going to sit and wait around for him. ''Say hi to Mark from me, darling.'' He winked before disappearing and changing into his Mercedes team wear.

Y/N swiftly freshened herself up, Lewis and his champagne-smelling sweat still lingering on her body. She grabbed her vintage handbag and was out of the hospitality.

She definitely underestimated how hard it would be to find Mark Webber in a Formula One paddock. Normally, he was quite easy to find or maybe he was always at the right places at the right time.

The Frenchwoman grabbed her phone from her bag and searched for the Australian's contact, not planning to look like an idiot while searching for him.

He didn't make her wait for too long, picking up the call after two rings. ''Hello, you cunt.'' Mark warmly greeted, a teasing tone present in his voice.

''Where the fuck are you? I've been trying to find you for like the past 10 minutes, did you turn into a ghost or something?''

''Oh, you would love for me to haunt you, don't you, Y/N?'' She could hear the smirk on his face.

Y/N almost snorted at his answer. She would have given him a witty comeback if it wasn't for the German man suddenly blocking her way. ''Uh, Markus, I'll call you right back.''

''Why?''

''There's a hazard in front of me and I don't know how long it's gonna take before it's fixed.'' She answered with an attitude, looking Sebastian right in the eye.

The ''hazard'' let out a scoff, her straightforwardness seemed to have grown even more over the years. However, he was impressed by the accuracy of his new nickname.

Mark chuckled on the other side. ''Alright- well, I'm by the paddock club with David so I'll wait here for you, mate.'' He said his goodbye, seemingly understanding that she was being held up by someone she wasn’t a huge fan of.

Y/N hung up the phone, placing it in her bag again. She wanted nothing more than to cross her arms and roll her eyes at the man in front of her, but they were in public and she was painfully aware of the eyes on them.

''I'm only smiling, cause that guy over there has his camera on us and I don't want to go through that again.'' The athlete warned Sebastian, not wanting him to think she was genuinely glad to see him.

The urge to roll his own eyes had never been bigger. ''I'm really happy to see you too, Miss Y/L.''

''I really don't have time for this,'' she sighed, ''what can I tell you that's going to make you leave me alone?'' Her bluntness didn't surprise him, she had never been the one to beat around the bush.

''I just saw you walking by and thought I might join you, you looked a bit lonely.'' He explained himself, his eyes focusing on hers.

She momentarily frowned, quickly fixing her micro-expressions. ''We both know that's not a good idea, Sebastian.'' His name rolled off her lips with ease.

''Why's that?'' He played dumb, he was aware why it wasn't a good idea.

''You really want to go that route?'' She sarcastically chuckled, a taunting smile on her face. ''Okay. Because us talking to each other like this will bring everything up again and I don't want to open those old wounds again, and I don't think you want that either.'' Y/N spoke calmly, but there was a fire behind her words.

The driver scratched his voice. ''Y/N, people are much more interested in your relationship with Lewis than they are in anything that has to do with me.'' A lot of time had passed, and Sebastian wanted to be able to talk to his old ''friend'' without being scared of what other people thought of it.

She was disappointed by his response. ''You really don't get it, do you?'' The athlete shook her head. ''Like I said earlier, I don't have time for this. Now, if you will excuse me- I have somewhere to be.''

Y/N moved past him, remembered something. ''Oh, and if Lewis asks you to get drinks with us, you say no. Have a nice evening, Vettel.''

Just as in the Mercedes garage, Sebastian watched her leave- not minding that he looked like a lost puppy whose owner left them alone at home.

''Too bad that Seb couldn't go.'' Lewis said, his eyes on the road and his right hand on her thigh.

Y/N nodded to his words. ''Yeah… did he, uh, explain what his project was?'' She too had been curious about what the German had been working on.

''Yeah, yeah! He's, uh, gonna do this t-shirt project to spread awareness about certain topics. For example, LGBTQ+, women in motorsport and all that stuff.'' Lewis summarised, echoing what his friend had explained to him.

His girlfriend continued her nodding along. ''That's very interesting.''

''I know. I love how Seb is coming out of his shell these days- like since last year, he's been really stepping up and taking a stance against injustices. He would have never done this 10-12 years ago when he was with Red Bull.'' The Mercedes driver had always admired Sebastian, but ever since he took the knee with him the previous year in regards to the Black Lives Matter movement, Lewis had found a new level of appreciation for his rival.

''That's really great, Lu. You seem very happy about it.'' No matter how complicated her and Sebastian's relationship was, she was relieved her partner had someone to stand beside him in the matters that he cared about.

Lewis smiled at her words. ''I really am, darling.''

Upon seeing the genuine thankfulness on his face, guilt spread through her body. Y/N had never explained the true nature of her history with Sebastian to her significant other. Of course there were rumours about it back in the day that Lewis was aware of, but to him they seemed obviously overdramatised.

She was keen on keeping everything that happened between her and Sebastian in his Red Bull days, in the past- Lewis didn't need to know about it. That was about the only thing both her and the German could agree on at the moment.

The vibration of her phone barged in on her clouded mind.

| UNKNOWN NUMBER I didn't mean to be insensitive earlier, I'm sorry. Good luck at Wimbledon, I know you'll do well! Love from Sebastian.

Y/N had blocked and deleted his phone number years ago, but the 4x World Champion always appeared to always find a way back to her.

''You're good over there?'' Lewis noticed her instant silence, quite uncharacteristic for her.

Her head shot towards him. ''Yeah, sorry- something about Wimbledon.'' She mumbled, unsure of what to tell him.

''Make sure you're there until the second week so I can come and see you play.'' He smirked, taking a glance at her reaction.

She rolled her eyes at him, making him giggle. ''Great, now I actually have motivation to make it to the second week, not the fact that I have a title to defend.'' Y/N sarcastically thanked him.

The tennis player had won the tournament three years in a row now, the 2020 edition being cancelled due to the covid pandemic. There was a lot of pressure on her to win the championship again, being one of the top players.

''I know you're gonna win.'' Lewis stated, matter-of-factly.

Y/N sighed. ''Don't say that, you know unpredictable these tournaments are, especially on grass.'' She appreciated her partner's confidence in her, but her own over-confidence had bitten her in the ass a few times in the past.

''I'm sorry, darling. You know you're my number one, you're always the winner to me.'' He squeezed her thigh, caressing it right after.

The side of her head rested against her chair, an appreciative look in her eyes. ''Merci, mon cher.'' She gave him a slow wink, one that her boyfriend imitated. ''You're welcome, love.''

''It doesn't happen that often that I replace Serena as number one, you know? So I'm gonna enjoy this moment.'' She teased, resulting in a pinch to her side from Lewis.

''Don't you dare tell her, she'll kill me.''

''I'm definitely telling her.''

''Yeah, I know.''

taglist :: @dannyramirezwife @luligirl_ @mistrose23 @azxulaa @develised @princesselle2111 @topguncultleader @poppyalice2001 @komorebi21

#sebastian vettel x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fics #f1 fic #formula 1 fic #f1 x oc #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x y/n #sebastian vettel x y/n #sebastian vettel x you #f1 x you #f1 imagine #lewis hamilton #sebastian vettel

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12-seconds-to-live · 8 months

Text

What If?

Pairing: F1Grid2021! x reader driver!

This is the story of how neither Max Verstappen or Lewis Hamilton became F1 Champions in 2021.

A girl did.

“What does it feel to be the villian of this season?” “This villian is going to be a world champion”

Abu Dhabi, december 12th - 16:30

"Are you scared?”

Tik tok, tik tok

I was able to hear the clock tickling on my motorhome.

A breathe

The eyes of George looking at me

“No, I’m not”

Yes, you are

“You got this and If you don’t...” I sigh

“Please don’t finish that phrase”

“Sorry, it’s just...”

“I know, there’s a lot on the plate but you know. I don’t have many options right now”

George take my hand “You’re really talented and the best option is winning and you’re making the impossible, like, in a Williams. You’re more clever that all those who want to see you fall. And for next year, did they called you?”

“Not yeat, I guess they’re waiting for the race”

“They’ll look like fools If they don’t call” We share a small laugh

“Thank you for this year, Mercedes is lucky to have you, Lewis will” He smiled

“I’ll still see you from the other side” We stand from the sofa and share a hug “Stay afraid, but do it anyway. What’s important is the action. You don’t have to wait to be confident. Just do it and eventually the confidence will follow”

Abu Dhabi, december 12th - 17:50

"Radio check"

"Loud and clear"

"We are all with you... whatever happens at the end, you're our champion, Williams is back thanks to you and George"

"Thank you, I need to hear that"

"Formation lap in one minute"

LAP 35/58

"Gap at 0.4 behind Lewis. So let’s just…"

"Why is Verstappen pushing me off-track"

"Yeah, yeah copy we aren´t happy with that. They're investigating"

"I'm gotta go menu dash position two. Tell them that he can't have the position back"

LAP 45/58

"Hamilton 26.8, 26.8. And let us know about the tyres for a Safety Car"

"How many laps left?"

"13 when you cross the line, 13 when you cross the line. Gap to Hamilton at 13.9"

"Copy. I'm ok with a set of hards. Do we have a chance?"

"I know you do. Stay still kid"

LAP 50/58

"And we’ve seen Norris with a front-left puncture, so just be careful on the kerbs"

"So we think the problem might be just turn 15, turn 16"

"I’m off kerbs"

"Okay, copy"

"Lewis still has free air"

"The gap is seven seconds and there’ll be eight to go when you cross the line"

"Copy. Status of Lando?"

"He's out of the car and well"

LAP 58/58

I crossed the line and saw all the fireworks over the finish line. I felt different, something like never before, not like winning in Monaco or Monza. I'm a world champion, the first woman of many.

I watched the people in the crowd weaving at me. I heard the screaming over the radio and while I was slowing down I felt tears runing down my face.

"I'm absolutely speechless. YOU DID IT! Thank you, we love you. Our world champion!"

"Oh, my God yes! Yes, yes! Oh, my God! Oh my God!"

"Y/N! I TOLD YOU SO! You are the world champion, the world champion!"

"GEORGE!? This is ours! WE DID IT!

"You absolutely deserve it, kid. Even if you're not going to stay with us next year, we owe you everything! What a year working alongside you"

"They haven't called so..."

"Are you kidding? The news dropped before the race. You're going to be alongside Max next year"

"No freaking way!"

"We are so proud of you. We always will"

"Oh, my God guys. I love you so much. From my teammate, my race engineer and everyone at the factory"

"You have driven like a champion all year. You deserve that. We needed a bit of luck. You got it. You made it happen. And we love you. We absolutely fucking love you" said George and the whole screaming in the garage was getting louder

"It is unbelievable guys. Can we repeat this If you guys want me in the future?"

After the whole podium celebration with Lewis and Max, one thing was clear. Max didn't win his first championship and Lewis lost his eight. My phone was blowing with messages from social media and my family and friends. But my eyes we're locked with Anthony Hamilton chat.

I knew that Lewis wasn't ok. He hugged his dad and even I can't see his face, he cried. He remains stronger on the podium but I can't look at him in the eyes.

I walked to the Mercedes motorhome. Toto was talking to George and stand up at the moment he saw me.

"I'm sorry"

"You don't have to. You drive so well this season that all of us knew that maybe we could lose"

"Oh. Did you guys talk?"

"Yeah, a few words. We have time"

"I'm gonna see him, it's just... I don't know"

"Go, y/n"

I knock at his door and his dad pat me in the back and let us alone. Lewis was laying down in the sofa with a towel covering his face. When he heard the door closing he remove it.

"Hi" I said

"Hey" He smiled

"I'm not going to make dumb questions, just, I'm happy of how this season went. You're been in the sport longer that I've been alive and even if the feeling of losing it's here, don't let it stay. You're still eveeryone's champion, even mine"

I sit down next to him and he took my hand

"I wanted you to win, you know?"

"You what?" I..." I gasp

"Yeah, you've been so amazing. You have the hunger of a champion and now that you made it, well, you're my idol now"

"Lewis..." I felt that I was going to cry

"Don't cry, baby. Go celebrate. I'm fine, I still more seasons ahead to beat you" I smiled to him and give him a hug

"Let me know when you're in London. To spend a day with you, all right?"

"That's a promise"

He hugged me again and I leave the room. A few people of Mercede's staff were around and congratulate me. As I was walking to my car to go to the hotel, I heard a text.

A thank you from Lewis.

Yeah, he's going to be back.

And maybe in the end ... We are all superheroes.

Each of us with a tragic back story

Specific sets of attributes

Some of us fly

Some of us read minds

And maybe some of us-

Are stronger than others,

We all have potential.

I believe the only difference

Between us all is ...

Who will stand up and fight?

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charlewiss · 2 years

Text

soft side / charles leclerc

masterlist

pairing: grumpy!charles x sunshine!reader

word count: 757 words.

summary: everything seems to be going wrong for him. somehow, you make it better.

it wasn't usual to see your boyfriend being grumpy. after all, he always had that beautiful smile on his face and if it wasn't for the presence of daniel ricciardo in the paddock, charles for sure would be the one in charge of making everyone smile.

but today everything seemed to be going wrong for him. it started yesterday, actually, when he had less than 20 minutes to be on track during practice. obviously, he still managed to get a few laps in and he did his best to get p2, but you could see the annoyance in his face even from carlos' side of the garage, where you worked.

charles and you had met back in his sauber days when he was just a kid entering the formula 1 world. you too were starting in that year, being part of marcus ericsson's side of the garage. still, you hit it off almost instantly with his teammate, charles, which resulted in a friendship first, and a few years later, a beautiful relationship.

after it was announced that he had joined ferrari in 2019, you thought that it wouldn't be possible to keep working on the same team. you stayed on sauber until carlos joined ferrari in 2021, and he needed a new pr manager. after you sent the resume, the team contacted you immediately due to how impressed they were with your experience in the field, and offered the job almost immediately.

still, the team didn't know about your relationship with charles, but it wasn't unusual to see you two together. after all, you two were best friends even before starting dating, and without being a fan of public displays of affection, you two still seemed to be only friends. but there was something else in the way that you two looked at eachother, the lingering touches and how you were always checking on the other, even when no one saw. that's how you realized he was upset, even when everyone else probably thought that he was just too focused on the race. but you saw how his brows were furrowed in a certain way and how his eyes didn't leave the little notebook where he kept his notes from the race ahead, something he picked up from seb.

so you made your way to the little cafeteria area that was in the hospitality, choosing to make a little tea for you and one for charles too. you knew exactly how he liked it, so once it was done, you made your way back to the garage. he was in the same exact position he was the last time you saw him, even though at least 10 minutes had passed and it was getting closer and closer to the start of the race.

when he saw you getting closer to him, his whole expression softened. his eyebrows went up, and you laughed a little, giving the hot beverage to him. he grabbed it with both hands, keeping his palms warm meanwhile. 'you don't have to worry about anything, charles. it'll go great. you always make it work'.

your interaction was short, and you immediately made it back to carlos' side of the garage to avoid any suspicion, and also, to avoid distracting charles too much. still, the spanish driver had watched it all unfold, and appeared behind your back. 'you bring out his soft side' he pointed out, and you jumped by his sudden appearance. you turned so you could look at him, and smiled, while jokingly answering 'yeah, I guess ferrari needs to pay me more. apparently I'm not only your pr manager but also charles' mood booster'.

with a mocking tone he said, almost instantly 'so that's your subtle way of saying you're his girlfriend, no?'. your eyes went wide at the comment and carlos just grinned from ear to ear at your surprised face. you didn't know charles had told him, even though it made sense if he had figured it out on his own. still, it was funny to the spanish driver to see your reaction. it was also funny to the monegasque, who was already watching you two, and, somehow, caught the whole interaction. when your panic-filled eyes met his calm-blue ones, you released the tension that was apparently building in your shoulders without you noticing. charles just sent a reassuring smile your way and nodded, while winking at you. soon after, he left the little mug behind and got on his feet to get to the car. it was race time.

#f1 imagine #formula 1 imagine #f1 one shot #formula 1 one shot #f1 drabble #formula 1 drabble #f1 x yn #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you

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lilacmingi · 7 months

Text

LIVING WITH 8 VAMPIRES

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: ATEEZ x fem reader (they’re not dating, but they all flirt with her)

Word count: 7,445

Note: This is my most popular series on Wattpad and I’m bringing it to Tumblr! This first part was published on Wattpad in February 2021. I don’t even know how to explain this series. It started out with silly little scenarios and turned into an ongoing series of crack humor (sometimes mildly suggestive), fluff, a little romance/soft moments, and vampire tomfoolery. If you haven’t read it yet OH BOY you’re in for a ride. I truly hope it makes you chuckle :)

You stepped into the large mansion, the front door creaking as you kicked it shut with your foot, both arms weighed down with bags of groceries.

"Y/n's home!" Wooyoung shrieked, running towards you at an insanely brisk speed.

"I don't think so." You stepped aside before he could tackle you, completely dodging him.

"Hey! How'd you do that?"

"You're becoming predicable, Woo." You stated as you walked into the kitchen, completely unbothered.

You set the weighty bags onto the kitchen counter and began unpacking everything, placing your items in their rightful places.

"Hey, where were you?" Yunho asked, walking into the kitchen.

"I went out for groceries." You answered.

"You didn't tell us." He pouted.

"You wouldn't have let me leave if I did. You're all too clingy."

"You're our little human though." He stated as he hugged you, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

"Stop that." You waved him off. "I don't belong to any of you."

"I beg to differ." An airy voice came from behind you.

You turned around seeing San perched up on the countertop, a sly grin on his face.

"I'm really not in the mood for your antics." You stated bluntly and exited the kitchen.

You headed up the large cherry wood steps that seemed to stretch for miles. The only thing on your mind was going to your room for a nice and quiet bath. You made it to the top and headed to your bedroom, just as you reached your door, Mingi dropped down in front of you, hanging upside down like the bat he is.

"Boo!" He shouted, laughing loudly.

His laughter quickly died down when he saw the unamused look on you face. You glanced up at him floating upside down in front of you.

"That's not scary anymore." You stated.

He let out a huff, sticking his bottom lip out.

"Sorry." You pouted, pinching his cheek as you stepped into your room.

•

"But she smells so good." San whined.

"I'm sitting right here." You announced, annoyed.

"Yeah and you smell incredible." San winked.

"Excuse me! We agreed we would not do that." Seonghwa spoke up.

You let out a sigh of relief, thankful that someone around here had some sense.

"Thank y-"

"Besides, if we do that, I am the eldest so I should go first."

Your mouth dropped open. "Are you kidding me right now?"

"I am not."

"None of you are biting me." You pointed to all of them.

"You don't have to worry about me, Y/n." Hongjoong smiled warmly.

"Thank you."

"Please." Jongho scoffed. "I'm the youngest and I have the best control out of all you."

"Well, I have the second best control." Hongjoong announced cockily.

"Everyone knows the eldest has the most control." Seonghwa pushed his hair back.

"That's bull crap." Jongho butted in.

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"You wouldn't know. You don't keep up with the current phrases used in today's time."

"I do not need to."

"Apparently you do because you never know what anyone is talking about." Jongho shot back.

The air went quiet for a moment.

"He's right." Mingi muttered.

"Yeah he is." Mumbled Wooyoung.

Everyone else nodded, muttering in agreement under their breaths.

•

Seonghwa rushed inside, slamming the door behind him, a drawn out sigh leaving his lips as he closed his umbrella. His heavy footsteps thudded across the floor, making it quite obvious that he was upset.

"I cannot believe the audacity..." He grumbled.

"What is it?" San rolled his eyes, knowing that if no one asked why Seonghwa was in a sour mood, he would continue to sigh and groan until someone said something. It's happened way too many times.

"Yeah, if you're gonna stomp around like that, you might as well just tell us." Jongho said.

"There was an adolescent standing on the sidewalk and he blew a cloud of vapors at me, to which I gave him a swift tongue lashing for, and he said I 'harshed his vibe.'"

You stifled a laugh.

"What does that mean?" Seonghwa asked aloud.

"Harshing someone's vibe means you're a party pooper." Yeosang muttered.

"I did not defecate on his celebration."

"No, Seonghwa it means he was having a good time and you ruined it." You spoke up, trying to clarify.

He let out an offended gasp.

"It's not that big of a deal. People say it all the time." Jongho shrugged. "It's not something to get bent out of shape about."

"I am perfectly upright, Jongho."

"That's not—" Jongho let out a long sigh. "Forget it."

•

You and the rest of the guys sat around the living room, each of you doing your own thing. You lifted your feet up, resting them on the coffee table as you looked around at everyone who suddenly appeared uneasy. Before you could ask what was wrong, a voice rang out.

"Get your feet off! That is mahogany from the 1800s." Seonghwa ran over, shooing your feet off the furniture.

"Who cares? It's old." You grumbled.

"It is in perfect condition. I do not need you scuffing it up." He huffed, pulling a handkerchief from his suit pocket, buffing the tabletop.

Out of the corner of your eye, just over Seonghwa's shoulder, Wooyoung was about to set a glass onto a side table beside his chair. Just before the bottom of the glass could make contact with the table, Seonghwa, in a split second and without looking back, flung a coaster over, the glass landing right on it.

"How many times to I have to tell you to use a coaster for your refreshments?"

"How did you-" Wooyoung started.

"I sensed it." Whispered Seonghwa.

•

"So, what kind of music do you guys listen to? I don't ever see you guys listening to any radios or anything."

"I am very fond of classical music." Seonghwa spoke up.

"Of course you are." You muttered.

"I kinda like 90s music." Hongjoong spoke up.

"I haven't listened to much music." San admitted.

"How about I show you guys some new stuff?" You suggested.

"I'm down." Jongho shrugged.

"Great!" You pulled out your phone, scrolling through YouTube, trying to figure out what they might like. "This one."

You tapped on a popular hip hop song, turning the volume up on your phone. As the song played, you watched as some of the boys began to bob their heads to the beat.

"I rather enjoy the rhythm of this music." Seonghwa commented.

"It slaps." Jongho spoke up.

"Pardon? The music did not slap us."

"No, slap is when the beat hits hard."

"That music did not touch me."

"No, idiot. You say something slaps when it's catchy." Jongho explained.

"These are sounds. We cannot catch them."

"You really need to learn some of the terms people use these days." Yeosang sighed.

•

You huffed as you trudged up the steps of the mansion, heading to Seonghwa's room. You found one of his rings sitting on one of the tables in the living room so you decided to put it in his bedroom. You pushed the door open and stepped inside, Seonghwa's coffin being the first thing you saw. You looked away, shivering a bit. The sight was always a little unnerving to you. He's the only one who still slept in a coffin. All the other guys slept in beds, but Seonghwa was old-fashioned, so you expected that from him.

You managed to bring your attention back to the task at hand and placed the ring inside his jewelry box. Just as you were about to leave, you spotted his closet door slightly ajar and hurried over to close it, but you stopped when something inside caught your eye. Slowly, you pulled the door open, a black cape hanging amongst the ruffled shirts and embellished suit jackets.

"No way." You whispered, reaching out to pull the garment off the hanger.

Sure enough, it was a black cape with maroon lining on the inside, a high collar at the top. An idea popped into your head as a mischievous grin spread across your lips.

You descended the stairs in the most elegant way possible, flipping the collar of the cape up.

"Look at me. I'm Seonghwa!" You announced, striding into the living room.

Jongho stifled a laugh as you sauntered around the room.

"Do not put your tainted feet on my mahogany table! I purchased that in a quaint town in Italy in 1876!" You mocked him, spouting off random dates and locations. "Doth thee not comprehend?"

Wooyoung busted out into a fit of high-pitched laugher, clapping his hands at your imitation of his friend.

"Wait wait wait." Hongjoong spoke up through laughter. "Do— do one of him when he hears a phrase he doesn't understand."

You quickly wiped the grin off your face and got serious.

"Pardon? Lit? If you are referring to the lighting in the room, then yes. It is lit very well."

"HA!" Yunho fell back, clutching his stomach.

Mingi collapsed on top of him, laughing loudly.

"Excuse me. Am I interrupting something?"

You froze upon hearing Seonghwa's voice. You slowly turned your head, almost afraid to face him.

"S-Seonghwa." You laughed nervously. "What are you doing here?"

"Last I recalled, I live here."

"Yeah. You do."

"Were you mocking me?"

"What? Psh. No." You waved your hand dismissively. "Not at all."

"She was just having fun, Seonghwa." Yeosang reasoned gently.

"I haven't laughed that hard in decades." San fell back on the couch, huffing.

Seonghwa looked at you, his eyes lingering on the cape you were sporting.

"Very well, then. I will excuse it, but only because you look rather adorable in my cape." He muttered the last part before hurrying off.

You stood there, knowing exactly what he said but not being able to process it.

"What?"

•

"Okay. First of all, you can shorten your words. For example, you say cannot but you can say can't."

"I am aware." Seonghwa muttered.

"See? You could have said I'm aware."

"I know."

"Then say it."

"No."

"Seonghwa, c'mon. You need to at least try it out. That way you don't stand out as much when you go out and converse with people."

"I do not wish to fit in. I am content speaking the way I do."

"Will you at least speak normally so I can hear what you would sound like?" You asked.

Seonghwa looked at you, his thick and sharp brows furrowed, wondering why on earth you would want to hear him speak so casually.

"Just this once?" You begged.

"I supposed it would not kill me." He gave in.

"Seonghwa is gonna say something normal?" Mingi shrieked, suddenly making an appearance.

"Really?" Wooyoung and San asked in unison, both of them sticking their heads into the room.

Within mere seconds all eight of the boys were gathered in the living room, their curiosities piqued after overhearing your conversation.

"I suppose this is entertaining to you all?" Seonghwa quirked a brow, looking around.

Everyone nodded their heads.

Seonghwa turned his gaze back to you with a sigh. "What would you like me to say?"

"Hmm." You thought for a moment. "Y/n, you're awesome. I'm so glad you moved in with us. It's been a blast."

"You want me to say that?"

You nodded.

He paused for a moment, clearly regretting his decision. "Y/n, you're awesome. I'm so glad you moved in with us. It's been a blast."

The sentence sounded foreign coming from Seonghwa, but it was a nice change from his usual fancy talk.

"Woah." You muttered. "That was... kind of attractive."

"What?" Shrieked Jongho. "I speak like that all the time and you never told me it was attractive."

Seonghwa chuckled darkly, a smirk pulling at his lips. "Well, my dear, if you enjoyed that so much, perhaps I should speak that way more often."

"Stop flirting with her!" Hongjoong shoved Seonghwa.

"I can do as I please."

"If you get to flirt with her, so do I." Yeosang spoke up.

"What did I get myself into?" You muttered under your breath.

•

"Y/nnn." Yunho pouted, dragging out your name. "I'm thirsty."

"Do we have any blood bags?" You asked absentmindedly.

"No."

"Well, go out and find someone to drink from."

"I was thinking something else."

You glanced over at him as he scooted closer.

"I know what you're thinking and it's not gonna happen."

"Why not?" He pouted as he began crawling across the couch.

"I don't want you to."

"C'mon, Y/n." He coaxed. "It won't hurt. You'll only feel a pinch. I promise."

His eyes flashed red as he hovered over you.

In a moment of panic, you reached over to the table beside the couch, pulling open the drawer and grabbing the first thing your hands could find.

A flashlight.

You had purchased it less than a week ago since the place was so poorly lit. You placed it in the drawer beside the couch as a temporary home and it seems to have come in handy.

You retrieved the flashlight from its spot, holding it out.

"Don't you dare." You pointed it at Yunho.

"What is that?" He asked, backing off a bit.

"It's portable sunlight." You lied.

Yunho let out a gasp, cowering away.

"Yeah, that's right. It's bright and it burns."

Yunho winced at your words before his face fell flat. "Wait. How do I know you're telling the truth?"

You raised a brow, keeping direct eye contact with him as you pointed the flashlight towards the wall and clicked the on button. Yunho let out a scream, immediately jumping behind the nearest piece of furniture.

"I'll use it on you if you don't stop bothering me. I don't care if you're my friend." You threatened, turning the flashlight off.

"Okay, okay, okay!" Yunho ducked behind the chair. "Please don't use the portable sunlight on me. I won't bother you."

"Good." You huffed, leaning back against the couch.

•

"Y/n, can I play on your phone?" Wooyoung asked with a pout.

"It needs to charge."

"Aw." He frowned.

"Hey, I have an idea. Why don't you guys get your own cell phones?"

Wooyoung furrowed his brows, blinking a few times. "I never thought about that."

"I have no need for one of these cellular devices you speak of." Seonghwa muttered, flipping through the newspaper.

"You might enjoy it." You told Seonghwa. "You can text the boys and download as much classical music as you want."

"I do not need to text my friends. I live under the same roof as them."

"Okay fine, forget the texting thing."

"Seonghwa, if we get phones you should get one too." Wooyoung said.

"I shall reiterate what I just told Y/n. I do not need one. Writing letters suffices."

"It does not. No one really writes letters anymore." You stated.

"What about bills, though?" Yunho spoke up.

"You guys can all get on family plan, it'll be cheaper." You answered simply.

"Ooh exciting." Mingi grinned. "Let's do it!"

"What do you think, Seonghwa?" Hongjoong inquired, turning to his friend.

"Fine." He sighed. "I suppose I can get one of these phones you speak so highly of."

"This is great! When should we go?" You asked.

"Right now!" Wooyoung stood up. "The sun isn't out much today. I think it'll be safe."

"Okay, then. Who's coming with me?"

"All of us!" San piped up.

"Not me." Seonghwa muttered.

"But you have to be there to choose your phone color." You pointed out.

"I do not care what color the phone is."

"I'm gonna get him a pink one." Yeosang whispered to Hongjoong.

"Alright, I shall join you." Seonghwa spoke quickly, setting his newspaper aside.

All nine of you piled into the black van they had for group outings. San was quick to push everyone aside so he could sit in the passenger's seat beside you, repeatedly calling shotgun as he scrambled into the seat.

You pulled up to the nearest cellphone carrier building and stepped inside. All eyes were on you and your group of friends as you walked through the store. You were sure you all looked like a rather strange group, but you couldn't be bothered by it. An employee came up right away to assist you all in your cellphone endeavors.

It took a while to get out of the store because Wooyoung and Mingi couldn't decide which color phone they wanted and Seonghwa kept stopping the employee every few seconds to ask what gigabyte and data was. Eventually, you pulled him aside and asked that he just let you take care of it. There was also a rather long conversation about wether the boys wanted unlimited data or not.

"Do you have wifi at your house?" The employee asked.

"What is w-" Seonghwa started, only to be discreetly jabbed in the side by Jongho.

"We don't." The youngest answered.

"Okay, then you'll want the unlimited data."

After being in the store for over an hour, you finally made it out, all eight of the boys with brand new cellphones.

"I have my own phone!" Wooyoung squeaked, holding up his newly activated device.

"That was rather expensive." Seonghwa commented.

"Yeah but did you see the look on that guy's face when you dropped all those coins onto the counter?" Jongho laughed.

"It was as if he had never seen money before." Seonghwa remarked.

"That's because no one uses that kind of money anymore. It's like really old and valuable." You spoke up.

"Old?!" Seonghwa shrieked.

"Yeah." You answered bluntly.

"Well, if you think about it, we're all old. We've been vampires since like the mid 1800s." Yeosang pointed out.

"Yeah, but we don't act old." Jongho mentioned. "Seonghwa does, though."

"Oh no." You muttered, knowing there was about to be an argument.

"I do not act old. I am simply being a proper and elegant gentleman."

"Guys please." You sighed. "Argue when we get home."

"What app should I download first?" Yunho asked, seemingly oblivious to what was just happening.

•

"I got a phone. I got a phone." Mingi sang as he skipped cheerfully through the house, swinging his arms as he did so.

Suddenly, the phone slipped out of his hand, clattering to the floor causing everyone to freeze. The room was dead silent as everyone started at the phone lying face down on the floor.

"Guys." You held your hands out. "It's okay."

You crept towards the phone, slowly picking it off the ground, almost too afraid to look at the screen. You hesitantly flipped it around and glanced at it, letting out a sigh of relief when you saw the screen was still in tact.

"It's okay guys!" You announced, holding the phone up causing the boys to let out a collective sigh of relief.

"You have to be careful with this." You informed him, handing the phone back to Mingi. "It's very delicate. You can't drop it on any hard surfaces and you can't get it wet."

"Okay." He nodded. "Sorry."

"It's okay. Just be careful."

•

"Mingi!" You called.

"Yes?" He appeared in front of you in an instant.

"I got something for you."

"Ooh! A gift?"

"Sort of." You pulled out a large protective phone case that you had hidden behind your back, handing it to Mingi.

"What's this?" He questioned.

"It's a protective phone case."

"It's kind of bulky."

"That's the point. It'll help protect your phone if you drop it."

He pursed his lips, putting the case on his phone.

"I don't really like it."

"Too bad. You need to get used to having a phone and practice not dropping it. Then you can have a different case."

"Okay." Mingi frowned.

Days went by and Mingi really didn't like his new phone case. It wasn't quite fair to him that he was the only one with an ugly case.

"How come I have to be babied and have a big, bulky phone case?" He whined.

"Because you're the one who dropped your phone first." You told him.

"Don't be upset, Mingi. You're setting an example for us." Jongho said.

"Yeah we're learning from you." Yunho added.

"Really?" Mingi beamed.

They nodded.

He puffed up his chest proudly before sauntering off.

•

"Y/n!" San called while running up to you. "Look what I did!" He turned his phone around so you could see it.

Your jaw nearly fell to the floor when you saw a Tinder profile on the screen. His Tinder profile. A mirror selfie of San with his index finger on his bottom lip was displayed on the majority of the screen.

"San."

"Yes?"

"You have to delete that."

"What? Why? Is it not sexy?" He asked, looking at the photo.

"No, San, listen to me. You have to take down your profile. Delete the app."

"My date will be upset." He frowned.

"Date?" You gaped, feeling a tinge of jealousy.

"Yeah. Look." He showed you someone's profile, that someone being Billie Eilish.

"San, that's Billie Eilish."

"I know. She told me who she was."

"Do you even know who she is?" You questioned.

"Someone who wants to go on a date with me." He grinned proudly.

"No. She's a famous singer."

"Oh. That's so cool!"

"It's not."

"Why?"

"Because that's not actually her."

"But she's talking to me. How could it not be her? I have our messages."

"There's this thing called catfishing. It's where people pretend to be someone they're not. Usually they're pretending to be celebrities." You informed him.

"What?" He frowned.

"Yeah. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I guess I should delete my profile." He dropped his head. "Here. Can you do it for me?" He held his phone out.

"Of course." You took it from him, deleting the profile and the app before handing it back.

"Hey. How about we watch a movie or something?"

San still looked upset, his bottom lip stuck out in a pout.

"I'll let you cuddle with me." You nudged him.

His head shot up, eyes sparkling as thoughts of his deleted Tinder profile went out the window.

"What are we waiting for? Let's go!" He picked you up, speeding off to your bedroom which held the only TV in the house, thanks to you.

•

Not long after the boys got phones, Yunho and San were begging to make a group chat. Seonghwa was absolutely against it, but he got added anyway, much to his distaste.

"We can name it?" Hongjoong exclaimed, his mouth hanging open.

"Yes you can."

"Ooh! Let's name it Vamp Squad." Yunho suggested.

"That's lame." Jongho shot the idea down immediately.

"How about Fang Gang?" Wooyoung suggested while striking a pose.

"Lame." Muttered Jongho.

"I don't know. It's kinda cool." You admitted.

After getting your approval, Wooyoung immediately went to typing on his phone.

Wooyoung changed the group name to Fang Gang

"Awesome." He grinned.

"Let's text right now!" Yeosang suggested, eager to see what being in a group chat was like.

"We are in the same room." Seonghwa pointed out.

"You guys can do that." You smiled, causing everyone, besides Seonghwa, to become excited.

Mingi

"How did you do that?" Jongho looked up at Mingi with his mouth agape.

"The two dots and the moon shape." Mingi explained with a cute smile.

"Those are called emoticons. You can use semicolons, colons, parentheses, and more to make faces. Watch this."

You

;)

"Woaahh." The boys marveled at your little emoticon faces.

"You guys have emojis too." You pointed out. "They're like emoticons but with way more detail. Tap the little icon at the bottom of your keypad."

The boys tapped away on their phones, gasping even they saw the abundance of emojis.

Yunho

😀😎👋🏻

Hongjoong

❄️🍇🍉🧀🏀

Jongho

🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️🙋‍♀️

That's us :)

"Okay you guys are having way too much fun with this." You shook your head, unable to hold back the fond smile pulling at your lips.

"Yes we are." Jongho nodded.

"I have so many emojis at my disposal." Wooyoung murmured, his eyes gleaming as he scrolled past the different categories.

"There's an emoji for everything!" Yeosang gaped.

"There is." You nodded. "It's actually amazing."

"So what do emojis do?" Hongjoong inquired.

"They help show a bit of emotion through text. Hence the name emoji."

"Ah." Hongjoong nodded. "So if I'm happy I can use the happy face and if I'm angry I can use the angry face."

"Yes."

"Cool." He whispered in amazement, a smile on his face as he looked at the phone.

San

Seonghwa

Hey

Seonghwa hey

Seonghwa glared across the room at San, his eyes flashing red as a threat. "Stop."

San stuck his tongue out in response.

The group chat continued to blow up throughout the day. Most of the time it was just random emojis and words. You couldn't find it in yourself to be annoyed. In fact, you found it cute how they were all so excited about texting.

Yunho

Hey Y/n. Wsbatarw you dojng

You

What?

Jongho

What are you trying to say?

Yunho

I askd howjs she wa doibfg

You

I see

You're using that vampire speed of yours to respond quickly but you're making lots of typos in the process LOL

Yunho

Shut up

Yuo don't kneow tbat

You clamped your hand over your mouth to keep yourself from laughing.

•

"Is that my blanket?" Yeosang asked Wooyoung.

"Yeah."

"You didn't ask to use it."

"I didn't think I needed to." He shrugged.

"Give it back." Yeosang demanded, holding his hand out.

"What? No, I'm using it."

"It's my blanket."

"I don't care."

"Give it back or I'll use the portable sunlight on you." He threatened.

"You won't." Wooyoung chuckled bitterly.

"Alright, bet."

Yeosang snatched the flashlight from the drawer, turning it on before Wooyoung had a chance to react. He let out a hiss, shielding himself. He quickly realized that the light wasn't hot nor was it burning him. At the very least, it was mildly irritating to his eyes.

"What?" Yeosang muttered, crestfallen.

"HA!" Wooyoung laughed, pointing at Yeosang.

"Stop laughing! Do you know what this means?" He asked, clicking off the flashlight.

"What?" Wooyoung questioned, oblivious.

"This isn't actually portable sunlight. Y/n tricked us."

Wooyoung's eyes widened.

•

You headed down the steps, towards the living room area hearing lots of hushed whispers. As soon as you stepped into the room it went quiet, everyone's eyes on you.

"Why is everyone gathered here?"

"I would like to know the same thing." Seonghwa huffed, looking agitated.

Wooyoung crossed his legs, clasping his hands together and resting them on his knees.

"We need to talk."

"Why are you acting like I'm in trouble?" You chuckled, taking a seat beside Mingi.

"Because you are." Yeosang spoke up.

"Why?"

He held up the flashlight you often used to keep the boys away from you.

"This isn't portable sunlight." He stated.

You eyes widened, knowing they were onto you.

"It's not?" Mingi sat up.

"No. It appears to be some sort of miniature light. It's not sun at all." Yeosang informed the group.

"Are you kidding me?" Yunho exploded.

"It took you this long to figure it out?" Jongho spoke up. "I figured it out already."

"What?" Everyone looked at Jongho angrily.

"And you didn't think to tell us?" Hongjoong asked.

"I enjoyed seeing you all get so scared when Y/n threatened you." He chuckled.

"Y/n, please explain yourself." San crossed his arms.

"Okay. I lied. It's just a flashlight, nothing more. I just needed something to use to keep you guys away from me." You admitted.

"If you wished to have space you should have asked." Seonghwa stated.

"Not everyone listens." You spoke pointedly, eyeing San and Wooyoung.

"We just love you so much." San spoke cutely.

"You have a unique way of showing it."

•

You walked into the kitchen in search of a snack, needing something to hold you over before dinner. Pulling open the pantry door, you peered inside to see what there was to choose from.

"Whatcha doing?" Yeosang's smooth voice inquired softly.

"Looking for a snack."

"I see a snack right here in front of me."

You spun around to face him. "Excuse me?"

It wasn't often Yeosang made comments like that, so it caught you off guard.

"You heard me." He hummed, his eyes flashing red.

"Yeosang, please." You tried to push him away, but he wouldn't budge. "I am not in the mood for this."

"What do you think you're doing?" Hongjoong's voice rang out.

You snapped your head towards the entrance of the kitchen seeing Hongjoong standing in the doorway. He stomped up to Yeosang and jerked him away.

"I asked you a question." He snapped.

"She smelled nice and I'm thirsty." Yeosang answered plainly.

"Well, go out and find someone to feed off of. You know Y/n is off limits." Hongjoong said as he narrowed his eyes at the blonde.

Before he could respond, Hongjoong grabbed your hand.

"C'mon, Y/n." He muttered, pulling you out of the room and into another where you could be alone. "Are you alright?" He asked, brushing your hair out of your face.

The caring and gentle gesture had your cheeks feeling warm.

"I'm fine." You told him.

"You sure?"

You nodded.

Hongjoong pulled you into a hug.

"I'm sorry about Yeosang." He muttered.

"It's fine. I'm honestly used to it at this point." You chuckled, giving him a pat on the back.

You started to pull away, but Hongjoong held you still.

"Hongjoong-"

"You do smell good." He whispered.

You quickly shoved him away. Hongjoong claimed to have the second best control in the group and he more than likely wasn't going to do anything, but you weren't willing to test that theory.

"Jeez. You too?" You huffed, stalking away.

"Y/n?" Yunho called as you stepped into the living room.

"Hey! I was looking for you." Wooyoung spoke up as he descended the stairs.

San appeared out of nowhere and nearly tackled you in a hug, nuzzling his face against your cheek.

"San, please. I'm really not in the mood." You huffed, wiggling out of his grip. "I'll use the..." You trailed off, realizing you couldn't use the flashlight as a threat anymore.

"Yeah. That's right." Wooyoung chuckled, a smug grin on his face. "You don't have your portable sunlight anymore. How are you gonna get rid of us?"

Without a word, you spun around and immediately started walking towards the front entrance.

"Where are you going?" San asked.

"Out to eat. I was thinking of getting pizza for dinner—with extra garlic."

"How could you?" They gasped.

You smirked, reaching out to open the door only to be stopped.

"I'm sorry." Yunho wailed, dropping to his knees and latching onto your leg.

"Me too!" Wooyoung declared dramatically, following what Yunho did.

"We'll leave you alone. Please don't eat garlic." Yunho cried out.

"You two are the biggest babies." You sighed, ruffling their hair playfully. "I'm not going anywhere."

•

"Hey do you remember when we first met?" Mingi asked.

"Yes. At a social gathering in 18-" Seonghwa was immediately cut off.

"Not us. Y/n."

"Oh yeah." You chuckled at the memory. "I remember it very well.”

*flashback*

You stood on the cramped bus as it drove down the busy streets of Seoul. You had been staying in a hotel for about three days and your search for a place to live was bearing no results. You thought you had a place lined up, but someone else who was willing to pay more money got it instead. You released a long sigh, your eyes glancing down at a man sitting in one of the seats lining the walls of the bus. You couldn't help but think how lucky he was to have found a seat. Your eyes traveled down to the open newspaper in the man's hands, spotting a small section off to the side labeled: ROOMMATE WANTED in large letters. Your eyes widened upon seeing the announcement, taking a brief glance at the name of the newspaper, making sure to remember it.

You got off at the next stop, searching for the nearest newspaper dispenser, spotting one for the newspaper publisher you were in search of. You hurriedly fished out some coins, dropping them into the coin slots before pulling out one of the papers, hastily flipping through the pages until you found what you were looking for.

ROOMMATE WANTED

Name: Kim Hongjoong

Rooms: 10

Bathrooms: 3

Looking for a roommate who knows how to drive or can provide transportation. Must be able to run errands at any time of the day.

If you are interested please stop by any time.

You furrowed your brows after reading the requirements.

"That's an odd request." You muttered to yourself.

But ten bedrooms? That's crazy. It made you wonder how many people lived there currently.

Less than 30 minutes later you found yourself standing in front of a large mansion. The outside was a bit unkempt and weathered, but nice nonetheless. You reached up and gave a few knocks to the large front door. Moments later, it creaked open, a man with dark hair stood inside. His attire was a bit odd and somewhat Victorian. He had on a dressy shirt with large, ruffled sleeves, a gray and silver vest, and black dress pants.

"Can I help you?" He asked, his voice soft and airy.

"Yes. I'm here about the ad in the paper." You held it up. "Are you Kim Hongjoong?"

"I am. Please, come inside." He stepped aside, allowing you to walk in.

You were immediately rendered speechless at the mansion's interior, marveling at the exquisite and vintage-like decor.

"Who is that?" Someone stuck their head into the room.

"Do we have a guest?" A second person piped up.

"It's just someone who saw our ad in the paper." Hongjoong informed the two.

"A potential roommate?" A third person came hurrying into the room.

"Possibly. Go get the others, please." Hongjoong requested. "You can have a seat over there." He gestured towards a red couch sitting against the wall.

You took a seat, watching as more and more guys entered the room. Five, six, seven.

What did I get myself into? You thought.

"Who is this?" An eighth man with dark hair and similar attire as Hongjoong asked while striding into the room.

The way he carried himself was that of a dignified man, his aura intimidating. It was clear he held some authority, like Hongjoong, but unlike the latter, he didn't have a friendly vibe.

"This is..." Hongjoong trailed off, turning to you.

"Y/n. My name is Y/n." You spoke up, introducing yourself.

"Right, Y/n. She is here about the roommate ad."

The dark-haired guy turned towards Hongjoong, pulling him off to the side. You didn't mean to eavesdrop, but the house was so quiet you couldn't help it.

"We already discussed this. I do not want a human living with us."

What? Did I hear that correctly?

"Seonghwa, be quiet." Hongjoong shushed. "She's right there."

"I explicitly told you not to put that ad in the paper." The one named Seonghwa whispered harshly.

"Just give her a chance." Hongjoong pleaded.

"Very well."

"Alright." Hongjoong approached you, clasping his hands together as he took a seat across from you. "You said you were interested in possibly staying here, correct?"

"Yes. I just moved here less than a week ago and I haven't been very lucky so far."

"How so?" Inquired Hongjoong.

"Well, for starters, the day I got here, the house I was supposed to move into was sold to someone with more money."

"That is quite unfortunate." Muttered a brown-haired guy who seemed to be keeping to himself. He had a rather strong build and you could tell he stayed in shape.

"I wasn't aware there were eight of you here." You mentioned. "I also didn't realize it was all men living here. Are you looking for a male roommate specifically?"

"We don't mind sharing the house with a woman." A man with sharp catlike eyes and dimples smiled, shooting you a wink.

Hongjoong shot him a warning glance before turning back to you.

"Apologies. The ad in the newspaper was my idea which is why only my name was listed."

"I see."

"You seem a bit apprehensive." A long-haired blonde with extremely handsome features commented.

"Just a little, but I'm also pretty desperate to find a place to live."

"You can drive, right?" A tall blonde asked. His features were soft and reminded you of a puppy.

"Yeah." You nodded. "I don't have a car though."

"That's alright. We have a van." He informed you.

"You don't use it?"

"None of us know how to drive."

"Ah."

"Well, Wooyoung tried driving once but he nearly crashed into the house." A brunette with a deep voice spoke up.

"I told you I was sorry." The one named Wooyoung whined.

"If I wasn't already dead, you would have killed me."

"Shut up." The seemingly quiet brown-haired guy elbowed the taller one in the side.

You gave them both an odd glance before looking back at Hongjoong who appeared quite nervous.

"So, what do you think?" He asked suddenly.

"Well..." You trailed off.

"You wouldn't have to pay any rent or anything." He spoke up.

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

You were apprehensive at first, considering there were eight guys staying there, but they all seemed pretty friendly. Plus, this might be your only chance to find a place to live.

"Okay." You nodded.

"You'll move in?" Asked Hongjoong.

"Yes."

"Before you do that," Seonghwa started, stepping past Hongjoong. "There is something you should know about us."

He began circling you, eyeing you up and down before stopping at your side. You glanced over at him as he leaned in, towering over you.

"We are vampires." He spoke lowly.

You let out a loud laugh. "You're pulling my leg, right?"

Seonghwa stepped away, glancing down at your legs. "I did not touch your leg."

"Sorry about him." Wooyoung spoke up. "He's stuck in 1842."

1842?

"I'm sorry, what?" You blinked.

"You guys are making her nervous." Hongjoong hurried over.

"Good." Seonghwa muttered.

"You're not playing a prank on me?"

"No." Answered Seonghwa.

Your gaze moved across the room, taking in the appearance of everyone standing around. All eight of them wore similar outdated, Victorian-style attire. That's when it clicked.

"So, you guys really are vampires?"

They all nodded.

You looked over at Hongjoong who had a guilty expression on his face.

"Okay." You took a step back, holding your hands up. "As long as no one bites me, I'm okay with this."

"What?" Seonghwa exclaimed, clearly upset that you accepted the offer.

"You don't mind?" The tall guy with the deep voice asked, his brown eyes sparkling as his lips stuck out in a pout.

"No. Actually, I think it's pretty cool."

*end of flashback*

"I can't believe Seonghwa didn't want me to move in."

"Apologies. I did not trust humans at the time."

"It's fine. That was two years ago, anyway. Plus, I've grown on you, haven't I?" You grinned. "C'mon. Admit it."

Seonghwa cracked a smile. "I suppose."

•

You stepped into the large and spacious common room where everyone was gathered. "Hey, guys. I've invited some friends over for dinner. So I'm gonna need you guys to not be weird. Also please stay out of the kitchen."

"What kind of friends are coming over?" Yunho inquired.

"Yeah. Are they guys?" San piped up.

"Yes."

"How many?"

"Two." You answered.

"Do they like you?"

"San, they're just my friends. Please just let me spend time with them, okay?"

They all agreed, nodding their heads in acknowledgment.

You went to the kitchen and started preparing a quick and simple meal, thinking it would be nice to have something made at home for once instead of delivery. You began plating the food just as there was a knock on the front door.

"I got it!" You announced, hurrying out of the dining room and rushing to answer the door before anyone else could. "You all stay right there." You pointed to the boys all sat around the living room.

You cleared your throat and turned towards the door before opening it.

"Jungwoo, Taeyong. Hi."

"Hi, Y/n." Jungwoo gave a warm smile.

"I hope you two are hungry. I made dinner myself."

"I'm starving." Taeyong grinned excitedly.

"Come on in." You stepped aside, allowing them to walk inside.

You glanced over at San who seemed to be glaring at your two acquaintances along with the other boys.

You let Taeyong and Jungwoo walk ahead of you as you made an "I've got my eyes on you." gesture to the group of vampires in the living room.

You already had the dining room set up and the food plated. Taeyong rubbed his hands together in anticipation as he sat down at the table.

"This place is incredible." Jungwoo commented, gazing around at the fancy dining room.

"Thanks."

"Who were those guys in the living room?" Taeyong asked.

"My roommates."

"All of them?"

"Yeah but this house is big enough for all of us."

"You got really lucky." Jungwoo said before taking a bite of pasta. "Seriously. You're living the high life."

"Eh." You shrugged. "Sort of. Some of my roommates are a bit clingy."

As if on cue, San came striding in, pulling out the chair beside you and taking a seat.

"Exhibit A." You gestured to him.

Taeyong and Jungwoo chuckled.

"San. What are you doing?"

"I thought I would have dinner with you all." He grinned cheekily, showing off his dimples.

You chewed on your lip, giving him a hard glare.

San smirked in response, reaching into the basket of freshly-baked bread sitting on the table. He took a bite, clearly not planning on leaving anytime soon.

As he chewed, he furrowed his brows, coughing a few times. San reached up and scratched at his face a bit.

"Why is my face so itchy?" He asked aloud.

Your eyes widened as they trailed down to the piece of bread in his hand.

"What kind of bread is this?" He asked.

"It's garlic bread."

San froze, blinking a few times. "What bread?"

"Garlic bread."

His eyes went wide. He immediately dropped the bread onto the table, pushing himself out of his chair. "Excuse me." He spoke calmly before sprinting out of the room.

"Is he okay?" Taeyong asked, his brows creased with worry.

"He's fine! He's... got a gluten allergy." You lied.

"He didn't know that was bread?" Jungwoo questioned.

"Ah. Well, you see, we buy gluten-free bread for him and he didn't know the difference."

Jungwoo and Taeyong nodded.

"Well, I hope he's alright." Taeyong frowned.

"He's fine." You waved your hand dismissively.

Serves him right.

•

You were cleaning the living room/common room area of the house, making sure Seonghwa's precious mahogany coffee table was spotless and free of smudges or scuffs. It didn't require much cleaning since Seonghwa did such a good job of buffing it out every single day.

As you were checking the tabletop for any blemishes, you noticed a small notebook sitting on the edge. You picked it up, running your fingers along the cover. It was just slightly bigger than your hand and bound in black leather.

You didn't want to pry, but your curiosity got the best of you. You opened up the notebook to the cover page, the name Park Seonghwa written in perfect calligraphy.

Is this a journal perhaps? You wondered.

You flipped to the next page which was covered in notes of some sort.

Cool - Does not mean cold. It means you are excellent.

Lit - Does not refer to lighting. It means all the rage.

TV - A strange picture box used for entertainment.

Wifi - Helps access the "internet".

Data - Similar to wifi. Can only be used on a cell phone.

Vaping - Something I detest very much. Seriously, I do not understand these adolescents and their electronic nicotine sticks.

You chuckled at his small side note before continuing to read down the list.

Sick - Another word for "cool". When someone says "That's sick!" it does not mean ill.

Dope - Yet another word for "cool" or "sick".

You flipped through a few more pages, seeing that all of them were notes on slang terms. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to hold back a smile as you closed the journal, placing it back where you found it and waking away.

Part 2

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