#it took me ages but we made an edit for them
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The Realms Enchantress
Chapter 2
NSFW, minors do not engage
Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Reader!Niece, Daemon Targaryen x Niece!Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen x Female!OC,
Summary: For years Daemon never had a care in the world just, sex, wine and a good battle. With the exception of his favorite niece. His little dragon he called her. He swore to be there for her and he got himself exiled when she needed him the most. Now, he returns from war at the step stones and is determined to get her back. No matter the cost.
Warnings: Targaryen Inscest, mentions of sex, oral female and male receiving, talk of nudity, mentions of death and blood, mother murdered, dead babies, depression, periods, vulgar language.
Authors Note: Welp, if you haven’t figured it out by now, I might as well tell you. I’m a complete whore for Daemon and that truly shows through this. I hope you all enjoy my slutty little works.
This is edited to a degree, I apologize for any errors in advanced. I tried my best.
Word Count: 5,542; sorry, got a little carried away
Tag List: Open
Part 1
2 years and some moons went by after y/n’s name day now 8 and 10 years of age a tourney is called in celebration of the babe in her mother’s womb. Celebration of the kings heir that has yet to been born. Your father swears it will be a boy. So hopeful that he is celebrating his arrival before your mother’s labors have even begun.
Your father gives his thanks and speech to commence the start of the tourney and alerts the people that your mother’s labors have begun. You sat with your family in the viewing area next to Rhaenyra and Alicent when Daemon approaches the viewing box, “Princess’ lady Hightower. Here to watch me win?” He said with his usual smug expression.
“We will see how true your words remain.” Y/n speaks first.
“You shall see then.”
He goes on to pick his opponent, Gwayne Hightower, Alicents older brother. She becomes visibly nervous when Daemon picks him. It is when Daemon un horses him that you think she is going to burst out crying in fear for her brother. Daemon then makes his way back to you,” Lady Alicent, I am all but certain I can win these games but having your favor shall ensure it.” He says to her holding out his jousting stick. You and Rhaenyra were in shock, you hurt more so. Every tourney he asked for your favor now he ask for hers. When you took your seat you noticed the maester approaching your father. You sat the tourney for as long as you could but once the murder began you decided to take your leave. You went to snack tables and grabbed an apple where you were met with your uncle. “You’re leaving, it my tourney.” He spoke first.
“No, taking a break from the murder. Besides it’s not your tourney, it’s for the babe in my mother’s womb.”
“Unless that babe is born with a cock, I remain heir. Besides, It’s not murder when it’s in the name of the tourney.”
“I’m sorry but no. I refuse to watch.”
“Well I hope you return to watch your favorite uncle once more.”
“Perhaps I will.” With that you went your separate ways. Your uncle to the tourney field and you to the viewing. A few moments go past, your uncle is unhorsed and on the floor, “PRINCE DAEMON TARGARYEN WISHES TO CONTINUE IN A CONTEST OF ARMS.” Shouts the announcer. It’s then that you take your leave not wishing to see what happens next.
You made your way to the red keep and once in the halls of the keep all that could be heard were your mother’s screams, you made your way to the room this was coming from. The guards stood at the door would not let you in. You pleaded with them,” please, I just want to comfort my mother through her labors like I have done so through the previous ones.” Unbeknownst to the guards this birth would not be like the previous ones. Once you entered the door to your mother’s screams flooded your ears, your father and the hand maids holding your mother down like cattle, the maesters hands inside her womb. Blood everywhere. You stood there in silent shock. It wasn’t until one of the hand maidens alerted your father of your presence that you felt hands grab at your arms and pull you from the room. Your brain unable to process your father yelling at you to leave and for the guards to remove you from the room. “Remove your hands from her!” Yelled Ser Errol, he took you from the guards that had dragged you out the room, you looked up at him with tears streaming from your eyes. He could feel how limp you were. He carried you to your chambers and sat you on your bed. It was then your uncle came in,” You left. I suppose it’s fine due the fact I turned my back on my opponent and lost.” He said with an annoyed tone in his voice. He still wore his armer, he placed his helmet on your clothing chest. It was then that all could be heard was the shouts from the tourney. Your mother’s screams had stoped. You turned your head towards your uncle, tear stained face and shaky voice,”she is dead.”
“Who is dead?” He replied.
“My mother. He killed her.”
“Who killed her!” He shouted with his hand gripping dark sister at his side.
“My father.” Daemon let go of the sword and sat at the chair. “Tell me, what did my brother do.”
“He had the maesters cut the babe from her womb. His hands were inside her. My mother held down like cattle for slaughter. Like some birthing animal. He killed his wife. My mother! MY MOTHER!” It was the that you began yelling and crying hysterically. Daemon rose from his seat and pulled you into him. Your face on the metal on his chest. You began slamming the sides of your fist on it, beating his armored chest. He stood there and took your anger. Rhaenyra entered,” what has happened, is mother alright?” You looked up at Daemon and whispered a silent no. He understood. You walked to Rhaenyra and locked the door to your chambers. You turned to her and began to speak,” I’m so sorry Nyra, mother has passed.” Rhaenyra stood there silently and let her the shock of your words absorb into her. Daemon began to remove his armor and watched the two sisters. “She is dead.”
“Yes.” With that the tears slowly fell from her eyes. And then she broke out into a hysterical sob. You held her close to you, the two of you falling to the floor. You sat and held your sister as she sobbed into you. It was then that your uncle left. Unbeknownst to you at the time that he went in search of his brother. Eventually you and Rhaenyra made your way to the bed and fell asleep in each other’s arms. You both woke in the morning, she left to her chambers and you remained in yours, the maids helped you bathe and dress. You walked with Rhaenyra to Rhaenys is hill. Syrax atop the hill. You both stood in front of the two pyres. Not realizing how long the two of you were stood there for daemon approached Rhaenyra, “they are waiting for you.” He told her in a hushed tone.
“Nyke pendagon lo, during lī dorolvie hours issa lēkia glaesagon, ñuhon kepa finally found biarves”
(I wonder if, during those few hours my brother lived, my father finally found happiness)
“Aōha kepa jorrāelagon ao, tolī than ziry mirre emagon. Se both hen ao”
(Your father needs you, more than he ever has. The both of you)
“Nyke jāhor dōrī sagon nykeā tresy”
(We will never be sons) with that Rhaenyra stepped forward to your father she tried to speak but her voice broke. She looked next to her at her grieving father staring upon his dead wife and son. Her mother and brother. She quickly turned her head.
“Dracarys.” With that, Syrax made his way down the hill and set the pyres aflame. Daemon held you to his chest while you both watched your mother and brother burn.
“Nyke jorrāelagon ao kepus, sir tolī than mirre.”
(I need you kepus, now more than ever)
“Nyke’m kesīr.”
(I’m here) he spoke as he held you close.
Everyone retreated to the castle once the ceremony was over. Rhaenyra to her room while you and your father thanked people for coming and encouraged them to feast. You sat with your uncle while he drank his wine. Once it was all over Daemon turned to you,” Nyke līs sir jikagon byka zaldrīzes. Se oktion urnēbagon jorrāelagon issa.” (I must now go little dragon. The city watch needs me.)
“Nyke shifang. Geron issa naejot issa chambers kostilus”
(I understand. Walk me to my chambers please)
“Hen rhinka.”
(Of course)
Daemon offered you his arm. You took it and he escorted you to your chambers. You both entered. Stood there in the center of the room. He held you against his chest. His fingers ran through your hair.
“I must go now.”
“Stay with me.”
“I have a duty to the realm. Keep the streets safe, for the kingdom. For you.”
“I understand, but selfishly I want you to stay.”
“If I could you know I would.”
“I understand. Go, leave.” With this he kissed your forehead and left. Your handmaids undressed you and you changed into your night shift and made your way to Rhaenyras chambers. You entered without knocking and climbed into bed with her. She turned and placed her head on your chest. She cried into you until she fell back asleep. You woke the next morning in Rhaenyras’ bed. You turned to face what you assumed was her but were met with your uncle asleep next to you. You put your head on his chest and he spoke. ”good morning sweet girl.”
“Morning.” You mumbled to him. “Where is Nyra.”
“She is on Syrax. I saw her earlier leaving to the dragon pit. I asked where you were and she informed me you were asleep in her bed.”
“Mmm.” You grumbled. He laid there stroking your hair as you laid with your head on his chest. “Are you going to leave the bed today.” He asked, he spoke gently, with care. “No.” You answered. Your head and body ached with grief. Your eyes burned from all the tears. He left the bed first then proceeded to rip the covers off you. You shoved your face into the pillows, “Daemon.” You grumbled. He wasn’t having any of it as he picked you up into his arms and walked out the doors of Rhaenyras’ room into the halls of the red keep. Your arms around his neck. “Where are we going?” You questioned him. “Hush, don’t worry yourself about it.”
You held onto him, hiding your face in his neck. You heard him bark orders of getting a carriage ready but you didn’t see to whom these orders were being told to. He stood holding you for longer than you thought possible but he never faltered. In time he was notified of a carriage is arrival. He took you out to the carriage and you left his arms to enter the carriage he sat next to you and you held onto his arm resting your head on his shoulder. Soon you arrived at what you realize to be the dragon pit when the driver opens the door to the carriage. Daemon exists while you remain seated.
“No.” Is all you say as he stands waiting for you to follow him.
“That beast of yours misses you.”
“He is fine, take me back to the Keep Daemon.”
“If that were true why is he causing so much trouble for the dragon keepers.”
“Because it is a false belief that we control the dragons.”
“Then go. Set him free.”
“Daemon. Please.” You were practically crying at this point as tears began to form in your eyes.
“dōnus riñītsos, come with me.”
You stayed silent as you got out from the carriage. He held out his hand to help you down when you realized you wore nothing but your night shift and to make matters worse, you were barefoot.
“ I’m not dressed. And my feet are bare.”
“Then I shall continue to carry you.” He states matter of factly. You wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist as he carries you like a child. His hands under your bottom holding you up.
He has the dragon keepers bring out Dyrax. He held on to you as they bring out your dragon.
“Gods has he always been so huge. He’s going to be to large for the pit.” You turn you head to look at your dragon “the beast” Daemon likes to call him, he had grown so large in the year since Daemon had last seen him. Dyrax saw Daemon holding you and could probably smell the sadness that over took you. He let out an ear bleeding screech. He was ready to light the whole area on fire at the sight of his rider in someone’s arms. You asked Daemon to put you down and he refused, walking you to Dyrax.
You put your hand to the dragons face.
“It’s okay my love, Nyke’m okay issa jorrāelagon, nyke’m ȳgha. Ziry’s lentor.”
(I’m okay my love, I’m safe. He’s family)
“Put your hand on him.” You tell Daemon and he does, with one arm holding you to him and the other on the dragon.
“Aōha olvie nykeā magnificent dyni, nyke kostagon ūndegon skoro syt issa niece iksos sīr attached naejot ao.” (You’re quite a magnificent beast, I can see why my niece is so attached to you) Daemon says to the dragon. “Go on, climb in to the saddle.” He tells you and you wrap your arms and legs around him tighter. “No, I refuse. Take me back to bed.” You tell him. “Fine. Hold on tight.” He says and then begins to start his climb up Dyrax. “Daemon! I’ll climb.” You shout, letting go of him and begin to get into the saddle.
“Where are we even going?” You ask. As he begins to take his seat infront of you
“Dragonstone.”
“No. I won’t be able to stay awake for that long of a flight, I’m not well. I just want to sleep please take me back to the castle.”
“I’m taking you to a castle. You’ll be fine.” He says and then shouts to the dragon keepers, “Tepagon issa se fabric ties.” (Give me the fabric ties) they toss it up to him and he catches it.
“I am not an infant.” You speak sternly.
“Then why must you act like one.” He remarks beginning to tie you to him. “If you fall asleep while you are tied to me then I won’t have to worry about you falling to your death, if you die your father will have my head if this beast we are on doesn’t kill me first.”
“Fine.” You say helping him tie you to him.
“Sōvegon Dyrax. Obey issa.” (Fly Dyrax. Obey me.) Daemon spoke to him, but yet your stubborn beast refused to move.
“Rȳbagon naejot zirȳla. Gūrogon īlva naejot zaldrīzes dōron Dyrax.” You told the dragon. And with that he let out a screech and started his accent to the sky.
(Listen to him. Take us to Dragonstone Dyrax)
“Stubborn bastard.” Daemon mumbled making you laugh. You kept your arms wrapped around Daemon and rested your head on his back under his shoulder.
“Why Dragonstone?” You asked him.
“Why no? You are Princess of Dragonstone after all.”
“Nyra needs me.”
“She has the Hightower girl and Syrax, she will be fine.”
“What if it is I who needs her.”
“You have me.”
“For how long?”
“We will see zaldrītsos, I can promise you four days. Possibly more.”
(Little dragon)
“And your precious gold cloakes?”
“I’ve put Ser Harwin in charge while I attend to you.”
“Does anyone know I’ve left with you? Nyra, Ser Errol, my father?”
“I informed Rhaenyra of my plans when I saw her leave her room. Ser Errol is aware and as for your father do you believe he would let me have you to myself?”
“No. Besides he doesn’t leave his chambers so I suppose he wouldn’t notice my absence.” The two of you talked for sometime then eventually you drifted to sleep. After a long nap you woke to the sound of Daemon yelling commands to Dyrax.
“Tegon Dyrax. Naejot se ripo. Listen you stubborn bastard. Jikagon naejot se ripo.” (Land Dyrax. To the pit. Listen you stubborn bastard. Go to the pit.)
“Rybās Dyrax.” You spoke up. (Obey Dyrax.) with that he started to descend to the pit.
“He was almost listening to me.” Daemon mumbled. You kissed his cheek,” oh yes, very close.” You laughed. Once landed the dragon keepers of the island took Dyrax.
“Ziry jorrāelagon naejot ipradagon.” Daemon told the keepers to feed Dyrax, that he had a long flight, as he climbed down the dragon with you still tied on his back.
“Daemon, are you going to untie me.”
“No, I quite enjoy you back here.” He said holding your legs that are wrapped around his waist. The hour was late you noticed as the sun had set.
“What is the hour?” You asked as he walked to the doors of the castle.
“Hour of the eel I believe.”
“Oh quite late. Daemon, if I’m going to tire again I should walk.
“Okay but hold on.” You wrap your arms around his neck as he begins to untie you. Once untied from him you begin to fall to the floor. With an uumph from your lips.
“Thank you. Do you suppose the water is warm?”
“It’s too late to go in, I’ll take you on the morrow.”
“Fine. Your age is getting to you uncle Daemon.” You jest with him.
“Tis not.”
“Tis is.” You say walking away from him.
“Could an old man do this!” He shouts and begins to run towards you. You laugh as he chases you on the sand. He’s much faster than you are and eventually catches you. You scream and laugh, the two of you falling to the sandy floor. “Are you alright?” You ask him in between fits of laughter. “I’m just fine.” He lays there laughing and catching his breath. You sit up and smile down at him.
“I always forget how much I love it here. No politics, no ‘duty to the realm,’ it’s quite lovely. The dark sea.”
“Would you leave Kings Landing? Leave Rhaenyra?”
“Rhaenyra would come with me. But yes, I would.” You said and laid down next to him. Your head on his shoulder. You both laid there looking up at the stars.
“Qēlos.” You whispered. (Star)
“What’s the matter?” Daemon questioned.
“I wish there was a nicer word for star, the Valyrian word for star wouldn’t make a very nice name.”
“A name for whom? A dragon? It’s would fit a dragon quite nicely.”
“No. A girl. A babe. Mine, eventually. Hopefully.”
“I’m sure you will think of something beautiful.”
“I suppose so.”
“You still wish to have children after what you witnessed with your mother?”
“I watched my mother have still born babes and yet I still want many children, a husband who loves me. Our many children will be evidence of the love we have for another. My father let her die. If I wed the proper man, he won’t allow me to die.”
“I wouldn’t let you die.” Daemon whispers to you.
“You’re married.”
“My bronze bitch. Our marriage is unconsummated, it can be annulled.” He said.
You stayed quite laid in the sand when someone came walking down with a torch. Maester Gerold.
“Your graces, I was notified of your arrival. All is well?”
“All is well as can be.” Answered Daemon as he got up, helping you to your feet next.
“You’re in your night clothes princess?” The maester questioned.
“Oh yes. I apologize for my appearance.”
“Not necessary princess. If you will follow me, we have prepared your rooms. Do you wish to bathe?”
“The princess does, prepare it in her chambers.” Daemon ordered the maester as the three of you walked to the castles doors. Once inside the Maester ordered a bath to be prepared for you in your chambers. Dameon then ordered the maids to move his belongings to your chambers.
“I brought you here so it seems only right I keep you company.”
“Very well then.”
You sat on the bed and watched as the bath was prepared and Daemons belongings were brought to the room. The handmaidens stood to the side waiting for you to undress and enter the bath so they could bathe you. When Daemon spoke up and ordered them to leave.
“She can bathe herself.” He barked at them. They all hurried out of the room. “Good. Even better I don’t have that bleeding Ser Errol around either.”
“You don’t like him?”
“No. He treats me as though I’m to steal your virtue.”
“Are you not?” You questioned him.
“Only if you wish me too.”
“That’s alright. I will inform you when the moment arrives.” You say and drop your night shift off your shoulders and it puddles to the ground at your feet. No small clothes underneath. You stand there naked infront of him.
“No small clothes? Very naughty princess.”
You turn and walk away from him and get into the bath. Enjoying the hot water relax your tired body. As you rest in the basin eyes closed Daemon comes and sits next to you on the floor, with the back of a single finger he caresses your cheek. “Gevīe.” He whispers.
You knew you were beautiful, you were named the realms enchantress for a reason. Your beauty paralyses men and women. You could start wars with the look of an eye. Yet when Daemon called you beautiful with a look of want in his eyes you were ready to leap from the bath onto him.
He then glides his finger down from your cheek, to your neck to a single breast stoping right above the bud of your breast. You look into his eyes with yours. He removes his hand and retrieves the sponge and begins to bathe you. He wets your hair and cleans your body. His arm going under the water to wash between your legs. You close your eyes and hold back a moan. It took every ounce of strength for him not to take you out of the bath and have his way with you. But he kept his restraint. Finished bathing you and helped you out. Gave you your robe and had you sit on the chair infront of the mirror and brushed your hair. It was then you began to cry.
“Did I hurt you rinitsos?” He said looking at your face from the mirror. You looked up at his face and managed to get out a no in between your soft cries. You stood and looked up at him, “take me to bed.” You whispered as tears flowed down your cheeks. He lifted you and took you to bed, the blankets already pulled back. He lays you down and tries to get in next to you but you stop him.
“No. Undress. I’m bare, it’s only fair you are too.”
“You wear a robe.” With that you stood and untied it and let it fall to the floor.
“I’m not now.” You said getting back into bed. With that he began to undo the buckles of his doublet, removing his boots and breaches. Last his small clothes and tunic. He stood there naked before you. His member hanging there yet still quite large. It didn’t matter to you as you kept eye contact with his face. You patted the empty side of the bed as a gesture for him to join you. He entered the bed and pulled you into him.
“My mother will never brush my hair again.”
“I’m sorry my sweet girl.”
“What age were you when your mother passed?”
“4. I don’t remember her much unfortunately.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t-.”
“It’s alright, don’t fret.” He interrupted the start of a ramble. He stroked your wet hair and eventually tracing his fingers up and down your spine. You looked up at him and he felt your movement and looked down at you. Your hand moved up his chest to his cheek. Leaving your hand gently there you spoke, “Daemon, kiss me.” He laid there silently staring at you. Your hand moved into his hair. “Please.” That one little please was all it took and he was on side pressing his lips to yours. You followed his movements and when tongue entered your mouth you weren’t sure what to do so you allowed him to lead the kiss, you laid there having never been kissed but the need for Daemon was to strong to ignore. After a while you pulled away to breathe and just stared into his eyes. Nothing but the candles illuminating the room.
His hand moved to the back of your head and pulled you into him, his lips connecting with yours. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you on top of him. You could feel his hard length under you as you hovered your hips over him. You pulled away to speak. “Does it hurt?”
“Does what hurt my sweet girl.” “Your.” You spoke, a blush coming to your cheeks as you pointed down. “Your uhm.” “My cock, no.” Your blushing ferociously now. He glides a finger over your wet center and over your pearl, a soft moan escapes your lips. “Does that hurt you?” He ask.
“No, it feels good.”
“As do I.” With that he flips you both over so he is on top. His cock between your folds rubbing over your pearl. Your head falls back as you moan. He puts a head over your mouth.
“Shh, you don’t want the servants reporting back to your father.” You pull his hand from your mouth.
“Perhaps I do.”
“As you pointed out earlier I am married zaldritsos.”
“Uhg, don’t speak of her.”
“My bronzed bitch.” He leans down bring his lips to your ear. “I spoke the truth to you earlier. I’ve never laid with her, not how I am with you right now.”
“She’s truly never had you?”
“No.” He continues to thrust his cock between your folds never entering you. His lips connect with yours. Your tongues dance. You lay there in absolute bliss. After a long time he gets off of you and begins to fist his cock, you lay there and watch for a moment. The act so arousing. You get up behind him and placed your hand over his. He turns his head to look at you.
“Can I?” You speak up.
“No darling, lay down. I’ll be done soon.”
“I want to. I want to make you feel good.” You whisper hesitantly.
“These are whores tricks, you are my sweet girl. Not some whore.” He says. You begin to kiss down his neck.
“Please. Teach me.” That was all it took and he gave into you.
“Okay.” He released his hand and placed yours on his hard length. So much bigger than when you had seen it earlier. His hand covered yours as he had you pump him.
“Get on your knees infront of me.” You did as he said climb off the bed and getting on your knees for him.
“Use both your hands.” You did as he said, “oh yes. Good girl. Now lick the head.” You lick it once.
“No sweet girl. Keep licking, keep moving your tongue over it.” You did as he said pumping his length in your hands and giving the head the attention it craved. Daemon sat with his head back breathing heavy.
“You wanna swallow my seed? Hmm?” He asked you.
You let out a, “mhmm” with your lips.
“Okay, give me your hand.” You did as he said, he put two of your fingers in his mouth and began to suck up and down on them. You began to grow wetter.
“You’re going to do that on my cock. It’s okay not all fits your mouth, you can still use your hands.” You did as he said and released one of your hands and began to suck up and down on his length. “Breathe through your nose darling. Thats it. Good girl. My good girl.” You kept going and quickened your pace.
“It’s here sweet girl, get ready to swallow all of it okay.” He spoke in between his heavy breathing. You kept up your movements and eventually your mouth filled with a warm liquid. Some of it began to come out the sides of your mouth “try and swallow it, try.” And you did, you tried but it was all so overwhelming you removed your mouth from him and his seed went on to your face. The sight of his seed on your face made him release a bit more. He used his thumb to wipe off some of it and bringing it to your mouth. You swallowed what was on his fingers. He got up and grabbed a towel the maids had left behind. Cleaning your face first and then his cock. You both climbed into bed you laid there head on his chest. Your eyes widened and you sat up. “Am I with child?”
“Why do you think that sweet girl?”
“Your seed is my stomach. Babes grow in the stomach.”
“No, they grow in the womb.”
“The womb is in the belly.”
“Did your mother not tell you how came to be with child all those times?”
“No.” You blushed and were about to cry, you had so much to learn and no mother to teach it. Daemon brushed away a small tear.
“It’s okay, I’ll teach you.”
“How are babes made?”
“You have your monthly bleeds correct? You’ve seen your mother push out babes?”
“Yes I bleed, but when my mother begins her labors I’m always by her head.”
“You bleed from your cunt. When a man inserts his cock inside that hole you have, and releases his seed in there you will grow a babe in your womb.”
“Oh. I understand. So, the marital act?”
“Yes?”
“Is it that?”
“Yes it is.”
“Does it hurt?”
“At first, but fucking can be a pleasure. Like how you brought me pleasure with your hands and mouth.”
“I understand.”
“Let’s sleep, we can discuss this further after sunrise.” You laid with your head on his chest tucked into his side. You couldn’t fight the needy feeling you felt between your legs. How wet you were. You tried to sleep but it was impossible. You looked up at Daemon who was sound asleep. Lips parted as he gently breathed. The sight of him so relaxed didn’t help what was between your legs.
“Daemon wake up.” You shook him awake.
“What’s wrong?” He mumbled.
“I can’t sleep.” You remarked.
“Such a shame. It’s quite nice.” He responds his eyes still closed.
“I feel funny.” You tell him.
“Funny how? We’ve slept in the same bed plenty of times. Oh no, I knew I shouldn’t have let you-“
“Im still wet from earlier.” You cut him off.
“Oh?” He opens one eye and looks at you.
“You need kepus to help you?” He remarks.
“Yes.”
“Let me think. I can’t take your maiden head.”
“Why not?”
“Because rinitsos, If you marry a cruel lord and you do not bleed for him on your wedding night, he may hurt you. I can’t have anyone hurting you. I think I know what might work.” He says filling the blankets of your bodies. “Open your legs.” He demands. He lowers himself. Eye level with your cunt. “7 hells you are wet. My poor girl, I was gonna make you go to sleep with all this between your legs. Not a very good Kepus of me.”
“Nope, bad Kepus.” He gives swift smack to your core at your remark. You gasp.
“Don’t start being bad, bad girls don’t get what I’m about to do for you.”
“I’ll be good.” You beg. With that he flattens his tongue lapping you up. His tongue goes between your folds and over your pearl. You’re a moaning mess already and he doesn’t bother to cover your mouth or give you something to cover your own mouth with. He loves hearing how free you are with him. The pleasure he’s bringing you. His tongue goes in and out of your cunt and his thumb rubs circles on your pearl.
“Please, please.” Your beg him. “Don’t stop.” You choke out. With that he shoves his tongue as deep as he can. Your cunt so tight he can feel it squeezing his tongue. He’s hard again imagining how it would feel around his cock. He’s now flicking and sucking your pearl with his mouth and using his smallest finger inside you. You’re a moaning mess for him. He can tell your about to peak by your cunt fluttering around his finger.
“I. I. Daemon-“ You’re cut off by your own release as you peak on his finger and tongue. Your shouting moaning mess as he devours every last drop and wipes his face on a fresh towel. He licks his fingers clean and uses a towel to wipe his hands.
“We are absolutely not returning to Kings landing now that I know you taste like that.”
“I taste good?” You asked.
“Absolutely. I’m addicted to it I’m afraid.” With that he pulls you in for a kiss and you can taste your self on his tongue. You pull away, “mmmm, I do taste good.” He gives a swift swat to your bottom. “Naughty girl. Only good girls get my tongue.” He smirks at you.
“I’ll be good. Your sweet girl.” The two of you go back to kissing and eventually fall asleep in each others arms.
#daemon targaryen x ofc#daemon targaryen x oc#daemon targaryen one shot#daemon targaryen fanfic#daemon targaryen smut#daemon#daemon targeryan#hotd daemon#daemon x reader#daemon smut#daemon targaryen#daemon targeryen x reader#daemon x y/n#soft daemon targaryen#soft!daemon x reader#hotd#hotd fanfic#hotd season 2#hotd x reader
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I have been on a Willy Wonkified journey today and I need y'all to come with me
It started so innocently. Scrolling Google News I come across this article on Ars Technica:
At first glance I thought what happened was parents saw AI-generated images of an event their kids were at and became concerned, then realized it was fake. The reality? Oh so much better.
On Saturday, event organizers shut down a Glasgow-based "Willy's Chocolate Experience" after customers complained that the unofficial Wonka-inspired event, which took place in a sparsely decorated venue, did not match the lush AI-generated images listed on its official website.... According to Sky News, police were called to the event, and "advice was given."
Thing is, the people who paid to go were obviously not expecting exactly this:
But I can see how they'd be a bit pissed upon arriving to this:
It gets worse.
"Tempest, how could it possibly--"
source of this video that also includes this charming description:
Made up a villain called The Unknown — 'an evil chocolate maker who lives in the walls'
There is already a meme.
Oh yes, the Wish.com Oompa Loompa:
Who has already done an interview!
As bad (and hilarious) as this all is, I got curious about the company that put on this event. Did they somehow overreach? Did the actors they hired back out at the last minute? (Or after they saw the script...) Oddly enough, it doesn't seem so!
Given what I found when poking around I'm legit surprised there was an event at all. Cuz this outfit seems to be 100% a scam.
The website for this specific event is here and it has many AI generated images on it, as stated. I don't think anyone who bought tickets looked very closely at these images, otherwise they might have been concerned about how much Catgacating their children would be exposed to.
Yes, Catgacating. You know, CATgacating!
I personally don't think anyone should serve exarserdray flavored lollipops in public spaces given how many people are allergic to it. And the sweet teats might not have been age appropriate.
Though the Twilight Tunnel looks pretty cool:
I'm not sure that Dim Tight Twdrding is safe. I've also been warned that Vivue Sounds are in that weird frequency range that makes you poop your pants upon hearing them.
Yes, Virginia, these folks used an AI image generator for everything on the website and used Chat GPT for some of the text! From the FAQ:
Q: I cannot go on the available days. Will you have more dates in the future?
A: Should there be capacity when you arrive, then you will be able to enter without any problems. In the event that this is not the case, we may ask you to wait a bit.
Fear not, for this question is asked again a few lines down and the answer makes more sense.
Curious about the events company behind this disaster, I took myself over to the homepage of House of Illuminati and I was not disappointed.
I would 100% trust these people to plan my wedding.
This abomination of a website is a badly edited WordPress blog filled with AI art and just enough blog posts to make the casual viewer think that it's a legit business for about 0.0004 seconds.
Their attention to detail is stunning, from how they left up the default first post every WP blog gets to how they didn't bother changing the name on several images, thus revealing where they came from. Like this one:
With the lovely and compact filename "DALL·E-2024-01-30-09.50.54-Imagine-a-scene-where-fantasy-and-reality-merge-seamlessly.-In-the-foreground-a-grand-interactive-gala-is-taking-place-filled-with-elegant-guests-i.png"
"Concept.png" came from the same AI generator that gets text almost, but not quiiiiiite right:
There are a suspicious number of .webp images in the uploads, which makes me think they either stole them from other sites where AI "art" was uploaded or they didn't want to pay for the hi-res versions of some and just grabbed the preview image.
The real fun came when I noticed this filename: Before-and-After-Eventologists-Transformation-Edgbaston-Cricket-Ground-1024x1024-1.jpg and decided to do a Google image search. Friends, you will be shocked to hear that the image in question, found on this post touting how they can transform a boring warehouse into a fun event space, was stolen from this actual event planner.
Even better, this weirdly grainy image?
From a post that claims to be about the preparations for a "Willy Wonka" experience (we'll get to this in a minute), is not only NOT an actual image of anyone preparing anything for Illuminati's event, it is stolen from a YouTube thumbnail that's been chopped to remove the name of the company that actually made this. Here's the video.
If you actually read the blog posts they're all copypasta or some AI generated crap. To the point where this seems like not a real business at all. There's very specific business information at the bottom, but nothing else seems real.
As I said, I'm kinda surprised they put on an event at all. This has, "And then they ran off with all our money!" written all over it. I'm perplexed.
And also wondering when the copyright lawyers are gonna start calling, because...
This post explicitly says they're putting together a "Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory Experience" complete with golden tickets.
Somewhere along the line someone must have wised up, because the actual event was called "Willys Chocolate Experience" (note the lack of apostrophe) and the script they handed to the actors about 10 minutes before they were supposed to "perform" was about a "Willy McDuff" and his chocolate factory.
As I was going through this madness with friends in a chat, one pointed out that it took very little prompting to get the free Chat GPT to spit out an event description and such very similar to all this while avoiding copyrighted phrases. But he couldn't figure out where the McDuff came from since it wasn't the type of thing GPT would usually spit out...
Until he altered the prompt to include it would be happening in Glasgow, Scotland.
You cannot make this stuff up.
But truly, honestly, I do not even understand why they didn't take the money and run. Clearly this was all set up to be a scam. A lazy, AI generated scam.
Everything from the website to the event images to the copy to the "script" to the names of things was either stolen or AI generated (aka stolen). Hell, I'd be looking for some poor Japanese visitor wandering the streets of Glasgow, confused, after being jacked for his mascot costume.
HE LIVES IN THE WALLS, Y'ALL.
#long post#Willy Wonka#Wonka#Willy Wonka Experience#Willy Wonka Experience disaster#Willy's Chocolate Experience#Willys Chocolate Experience#THE UNKNOWN#Wish.com Oompa Loompa#House of Illuminati#AI#ai generated
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the re-do | m.s. |
matt sturniolo x fem!reader
summary: y/n participates in the triplets' "dirty q&a" video, where she accidentally infers that her experience losing her virginity to matt back in high school had been mediocre. instead of taking offence, matt makes it his mission to show her just how much he has improved since then.
warnings: SMUT; established friendship; m/f oral; unprotected p in v; dirty talk; 18+
notes: hi guys! this is my first ever one shot so pls be gentle with me (i'm genuinely so terrified to post this). it has absolutely NOT been proof read forgive me, but i hope you all enjoy <333
“Guys why am I actually nervous to film this?” Nick proclaimed from his place in the backseat of the car beside me. “No I am genuinely so scared right now.” Replied Chris from the seat in front of me as he began passing out our respective orders from McDonalds.
“We can’t act nervous or else the fans are gonna go even crazier than they already will.” Added Nick as Matt adjusted the camera on the dash. “You’re sure you’re gonna be able to handle the inevitable shit talking that’s gonna come from all this?” Matt asked as he turned to face me in the back. I took a deep breath but nodded. “The more they see me the more desensitized they’ll be. They’ll have to eventually get over it.”
As one of the triplet’s closest girl friends, I had been on the receiving end of a fair amount of hate from their fangirls on the internet. Because I had known them since elementary school, I had been a part of many of their earlier videos when their fans had still been pretty chill about our friendship. But over the past year, a new wave of younger fans had found the videos and had made it their life mission to publicly bash me any chance that they could. It became too much when, a few months ago, one of them decided to spread a rumour that Chris and I had slept together based on nothing other than strategically edited clips of us smiling at each other. It was then that the guys and I had made the decision to keep me as out of the public eye as possible.
However, the guys had sat me down last week to explain how fed up they were with how restricted they felt they had been in their content. They wanted to make an attempt at reclaiming a fandom built primarily of viewers closer to our age, and they thought that the best way to try that was to ignore the petty complaints and make content that they wanted to make. So, since I had been staying with them in Los Angeles for the month, I had agreed to not only be in one of their regular videos, but I had agreed to be in their ‘dirty q&a’ video. I couldn’t lie, I was a bit nervous, but mostly I was excited that my friends were finally confident enough to make videos with more extreme topics.
“Alright guys, ya’ll ready?” Chris asked, intaking a sharp breath while his hand hovered over the record button on the camera. We all responded with a falsely enthusiastic “ready!”, and the camera was turned on.
“Alright, first question,” Nick began after his long-winded introduction filled with disclaimers and explanations for their change in content. “How many people have you slept with?” Already with the first question, it was obvious that the guys were tentative about answering. “Bro I don’t know, next question.” Chris responded, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands. “What do you mean by ‘I don’t know’ Chris?” Asked Matt tauntingly. “I mean I haven’t fucking kept track of everyone I’ve slept with.” He responded bluntly, before realizing how bad that had sounded. We all, however, erupted into laughter immediately. “Okay okay it’s not that bad guys I swear, I just have a bad memory is all.” He attempted to remedy his previous answer, but all three of us continued to laugh.
“Matt, how about you?” Asked Nick, to which Matt simply held up five fingers to the camera. “Same with me.” Nick agreed before turning to me. “Y/n? Spill it.” I rolled my eyes before answering truthfully. “Seven.” I shrugged, and I caught Matt’s smiley eyes through the rear view mirror.
“Alright next question is…” Chris was scrolling through the responses to their Instagram threads. “How old were you when you lost your virginity?”
“Sixteen” We all responded in unison, and immediately buckled over in laughter. “Not all at once though ya’ll.” Nick explained through his laughter, while mine and Matt’s eyes flew open and Chris’ laugh turned into hysterics. “Well…” Chris began before he was cut short by the three of us telling him to shut up. “I’m definitely gonna have to cut that one out. Sorry you two fools, I kind of set him up there.” Nick rolled his eyes as he looked between Matt and I.
Ironically enough, the fans had been half right in their rumour about Chris and I sleeping together. I had slept with one of the triplets before, but it wasn’t Chris.
When we were sixteen, Matt and I had decided that we wanted to lose our virginities to each other. It had been a no-strings-attached decision, and our friendship thankfully never wavered after it was done. Both Nick and Chris had already lost theirs that same year, and we had both just kind of wanted to get it over with. Obviously, this piece of information was known only by Matt and I, and of course Chris and Nick since they had barged into the room while we were in bed together. Even though the vindictive side of me would love to have the fans know this piece of information and shatter their dreams, I knew that the fallout would be an absolute nightmare.
“Okay let’s see…” I had been handed Nick’s phone to choose a question to answer and was scrolling through my options. “Here’s a simple one. Favourite position? Mine’s speed bump for sure.” I placed the phone down, satisfied with my confident answer, only to be met with multiple pairs of confused eyes. “I beg your pardon? The fuck is speed bump?” Asked Nick as he took his phone back. “The one where you’re kinda just lying flat on your stomach with the guy behind you. Trust me it’s chef’s kiss.” I responded simply. Chris’ facial expression turned from confusion to one of understanding. “Ohhh yeah that’s a good one.” He replied as he dapped me up. “Great, gonna have to edit that out too unless you want the rumours to get really bad again.” Nick said as he rolled his eyes. “Shit, sorry Nick.” Chris said, giggling slightly.
“Let’s just move on.” Matt said as he began scrolling on his own phone. “Best and worst sexual experiences.” He read off of his screen. There was a moment of silence while we all thought of our answers. “I had a girl throw up on my dick once. The problem is I don’t know if that makes it the worst or the best though.” Said Chris, earning a loud groan from each of us. “You’re sick.” Replied Matt, giving his brother a disgusted look.
“I mean I guess the worst sex would probably be my first time right? Like that makes sense right?” Asked Nick in an attempt to steer the conversation away from Chris’ confession, to which I nodded in agreed response without thinking. I caught Matt’s eyes in the rearview mirror again, this time seeing them filled with a pleading expression. Realizing what I had done, I silently prayed to the universe that my action would go unnoticed by the others. Unfortunately and unsurprisingly, my head nod didn’t make it past Chris, which was made incredibly clear when he mumbled to Nick behind his hand that was hiding his smiling mouth from the camera.
“Did you see that?” He asked, and Nick looked confused so he continued, “Y/n agreed with you about her first time.” He managed to get out before erupting into laughter at the expense of his brother. Matt threw his hands up in the air once Nick joined Chris in his giggling, and I winced from my place in the backseat; also mouthing an apology to Matt’s reflection in the mirror.
“Bro come on it was my first time! I guarantee you were trash your first time too.” Matt said in an attempt to repair his ego as he threw his empty cup at Chris. “Maybe so, but I don’t have the girl who I lost it to here in the car to confirm it.” Chris snarked back, playfully nudging Matt’s shoulder. “We all gotta start somewhere dude.” He added when Matt didn’t respond. As Nick continued choking on his own laughter, Matt crossed his arms and stared out the window, very clearly wishing he was anywhere but there in that moment.
“Okay okay,” Nick began catching his breath. “We need to cool it because 90% of that what we just filmed is completely unusable. Let’s please just try to make it through this video without exposing Matt and Y/n’s bumpy sexual history again.” He pleaded as he began scrolling through his phone to find new questions.
----
“God, that was rough.” Said Chris as we all climbed out of the parked car. We had finally finished the video. It took us an hour to film, and would still be edited down to just twenty minutes of content where we weren’t exposing big secrets or directly fuelling past rumours.
“At least it’s done. It might be a while before I ever want to do that again.” Nick responded as he opened the garage door leading into their house. “Agreed.” Added Matt from behind me as we climbed the stairs to the main level. We all walked over to the fridge to grab drinks, as if the beverages would clean our dirty mouths.
“Alright,” Chris began after a hefty chug from his Pepsi, “I’m going to my room. Matt, Nick, get on Fortnite with me.” He began descending the stairs. “I’ll get on once I shower Chris. I have a desperate need to scrub this FILTH off of my body.” Replied Nick, and he began walking towards the stairs leading to his bedroom. “Y/n, come upstairs whenever you want to go to sleep and I’ll get off the game.” He called over his shoulder as he disappeared at the top of the stairs.
Matt and I were left alone in the kitchen, him sitting at the table and me sitting on top of the counter in between the stove and the fridge. Swinging my legs carelessly, I decided to break the silence first. “I’m really sorry about all of that in the car Matt. I didn’t mean it.” He looked up at me and chuckled. “Yes you did, and it’s not a big deal. I know I wasn’t great back then.” He responded before taking a drink from his can. I smiled softly at his response but decided to leave it be. There was no use in trying to deny it. The sex was just boring, short, and awkward; the way that most first times are. At least he didn’t take any offence to it.
“You know,” He began after a few moments of silence, his eyes shooting to mine as he stood up from his place at the kitchen table. “I’ve gotten much better.” A playful smirk travelled to his lips as he began walking towards my frozen figure on the counter. He stopped just a few short centimetres away from me, so close that I could reach out and touch any part of him that I wanted. I couldn’t tell if he was fucking with me, until I felt his early signs of arousal press lightly against my knee.
My throat was dry, and I felt like a deer in headlights. Even though Matt and I had slept together when we were younger, the dynamic was much different than now. The proposition came about awkwardly, and we were a fumbling mess with very little understanding of how it felt to be aroused. But in this moment, I was very very aroused just from this conversation.
In my silence, he placed a firm hand on my hip, rubbing his thumb across it gently. “I can do just about anything. Just let me know how you want it and I can give it to you.” My stomach did a somersault at his words, and I felt my panties dampen. He used his free hand to push my legs apart so that he could stand in between them, and my limp hands subconsciously moved up to grab onto his shoulders. At the first sign of my willingness, Matt quickly leaned forward and peppered soft, teasingly slow kisses along my neck. His lips travelled up to my ear, where he bit the lobe playfully before whispering, “Well, tell me. How do you want me Y/n?”
His words caused me to clench on nothing and I nearly moaned from the anticipation. With him still waiting on my response I whispered back, “You can do anything you want to me, Matty.”
Without missing a beat, he attacked my lips with his own and I melted from the immediate relief. I moved my hands from his shoulders up to the base of his head, and as his tongue danced along with mine I pulled gently at his messy hair; my own mouth filling with a moan falling from his lips. His right hand traveled up my grey hoodie to find that I had nothing on underneath, and he lightly brushed the bottom of my left tit with his thumb. Suddenly his hands moved from under my shirt and gripped my ass as he effortlessly lifted me off the counter and into his arms. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he stumbled towards his bedroom.
Once inside the undisturbed room, he placed me down on his desk, my ass hitting the mouse and causing the computer to turn on; casting a light on the otherwise dark room. He wasted no time in removing my hoodie, leaning me back slightly so he could easily twirl his tongue along each nipple. I hummed in pleasure from the warm, wet sensation of his mouth connecting to my skin, and brought my hand down in between our bodies to softly run my hand up and down his clothed hardness. After a few moments, he pushed my hand away and dropped to his knees in between my legs.
Pulling my grey sweats off my body and pushing my thong to the side in one quick motion, Matt took a moment to relish in my swollen, dripping hole. “I don’t remember you being this wet for me last time.” He smirked as he looked up at me with blown out pupils. “Let’s see if you taste the same.” My eyes rolled to the back of my head at his filthy words, and a moan slipped from between my lips as his mouth made sloppy contact with my sensitive bud. I subconsciously grabbed onto the back of his head, suffocating him with my heat as he continued to suck and kiss my clit. As his tongue worked on my nerves, he released a guttural moan that vibrated against my heat, causing my back to arch at the intense feeling.
When we had done this all of those years before, Matt’s movements were lacking in confidence. He had fumbled around my clit blindly, and had ate me out cautiously as if he was afraid of hurting me. Now, this Matt had clearly gained experience, as my stomach was already beginning to fill with the familiar pressure from the build up of an orgasm once I watched him find all of my most sensitive spots; his eyes blissfully closed.
Suddenly, he pulled his mouth away from my heat and I groaned at the loss of contact. He straightened his body back up to my level and brought his face so close to mine that our noses were touching. “Kiss me. I want you to know how good you taste.” He whispered through his glistening bright red lips. More on fire than I had ever been in my life, I immediately attached my open mouth to his, moaning at the distinct taste of my sweet arousal on his tongue. As we deepened the kiss, his fingers found my heat and he ran two of them up and down my folds to collect my wetness before slamming them into my cunt; finding my spongey g-spot on the first pump with his curled fingers.
My head rolled back, lost in the euphoric feeling of his fingers filling me up, and he watched my facial expressions intently as the wet sounds of my upcoming orgasm filled the space between us. “Holy fuck, Matt.” I slurred, my voice coming out choppy as his fingers continued to relentlessly pound into me; never losing contact with that one spot that drove me crazy. “I-I’m gonna-” I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the very beginning of my orgasm roll over my body.
Suddenly, all of his movements stopped and my eyes shot open out of frustration. In the time since my eyes had screwed shut, his own had darkened in arousal. My body trembled from the sudden halt in its pleasure, and he smirked at me. “You want to cum, sweetheart?” He asked, his kind words a harsh paradox to his sinister expression. Still, I nodded eagerly to which he pulled his fingers out of me completely before leaning up and placing his wet mouth right against my ear.
“You’re gonna fucking wait for me.”
I attempted to squeeze my legs together to take some pressure off of my throbbing, unsatisfied core as his vulgar words scrambled my brain, before he pulled me off the desk and pushed my head down so that I was now the one on my knees. Confused, I looked up to find him gazing down at me. He gestured towards his clothed member. “Go ahead.” I grinned slyly.
My turn.
I had made an attempt at giving him head the first time we had sex. Just like him, I had struggled with confidence due to the sole fact that I had no clue what I was doing. Since then, I had had plenty of practice, and I was excited to now be the one to show him my improvements.
I grabbed onto the waist band of his pyjama pants and pulled them down to his knees. With only his tight red boxer shorts covering it now, the outline of his thick cock and the small wet spot at its tip from his pre-cum made my mouth water. I brought my mouth up to the skin on his lower stomach, right above the Calvin Klein logo on his boxers, and began peppering excruciatingly slow kisses along the light sprinkling of hair there. I glanced up at him through my eyelashes to find him peering down at me with curious lust, his mouth open slightly and his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.
After a short while, I grabbed his boxers and pulled them down to meet his pants at his knees. His hardened cock smacked his stomach on its release from the tight material, where it left a wet patch from his pre-cum. Grabbing it with my left hand, I collected a pool of saliva in my mouth and stared up at him as I let it all drip down his swollen member. After pumping my hand for a few strokes, I placed only the tip in my mouth as I watched his eyes dilate. I swirled my tongue teasingly along the swollen tip, tasting the the saltiness of his fluid. Eventually, I began pumping my hand up and down his shaft in rhythm with my head bobbing along the top half of his cock. He shifted on his feet at the new sensation and let his head fall back. I kept my pace agonizingly lazy, knowing that it would drive him crazy.
With my tongue, I licked a strip from the base of his ball sack, up his shaft, and to his tip, earning a hushed whimper from his lethargic mouth before he grabbed my hair and shifted his hips. Looking down at me and holding my head firmly in place, he began thrusting his hips as he kept me still. He started slow, but when he realized that I could take more his pace began to pick up and his cock began to hit deep in my throat. I looked up at him through my tear-filled eyes, and saliva began to drip down my chin. “Fuck you look so good with my cock in your mouth.” He grunted out through each thrust. I lifted my hand to cup his balls, giving them gentle squeezes that seemed to send him towards his climax.
As a moan fell from his lips, he pulled my head back so that his dripping cock sprung free before he got the chance to fill my mouth with his cum. He stood there for a moment with his eyes closed taking deep breaths as if he was fighting the urge to finish right then, before he opened his eyes and gazed down at me. “Get on the bed.”
I pulled myself up off the ground and, on shaky legs, walked over to his bed with him following close behind. Once I reached the edge of the bed he stopped me, turning me around to face him and pushing me down so I would sit. “Put your feet on the bed and pull your knees up to your chest.” He commanded, and I did as I was told, albeit I was a bit confused. “Good girl.” He praised me as he pulled me right up to the edge of the bed before pushing my legs further apart.
Placing one of his knees on the bed beside me, he lined his cock up with my entrance; rubbing it tantalizingly along my wetness. Placing one arm around my waist to brace my body, he slowly pushed his cock inside of me right there on the edge of the bed. His trusts were slow but harsh, and the position he had placed us in made it so that my cervix was barrelled into each time his hips met mine. He placed his sweat-coated forehead against my collar bone and released small breathless grunts with each deep thrust. “So fucking good Matt. Oh god.” I whined as his pace began to increase in speed. He planted his teeth into my shoulder as we fell back onto the bed; his body now completely on top of mine as he continued to drive into me.
He lifted his head and looked fixedly at my fucked out face, his eyes glossed over in erotic pleasure. With this visual, I was brought back to the first time we had fucked, in a position so similar to this one. His rhythm was slower and much more tentative, and we were both certainly much less pleasing to the other, but still I suddenly got hit with a wave of recognition in how much we had both grown since then.
I was pulled out of my trance by Matt’s commanding voice. “Move back real quick and get on your stomach.” I did as I was told, feeling the emptiness that came from his dick sliding out of my soaking wet pussy. Assuming he wanted me in doggy, I got on my knees and arched my back; my head and shoulders pressed firmly against the soft mattress. I felt the bed move as he climbed on all the way, and in a moment of animalistic desperation I pushed my needy cunt subconsciously back to meet heat of his cock.
“No.” He stated simply, his veiny hands massaging my ass. Confused, I looked over my shoulder as I waited for him to explain. He had an ominous smile as he moved his gaze from my fully exposed cunt to my face. “I wanna see if your favourite position is really worth the hype.” He used his hands on my ass to push it down flat to the bed before adjusting himself so that he could line up correctly. Still looking over my shoulder with glazed eyes, I watched his expression as his cock sunk into my core once again. His jaw was clenched tightly and his eyelashes fluttered slightly from the new sensation that the position gave him as he bottomed out. “Oh fuck.” His eyes were fully shut now as he stayed still for a moment. Small beads of sweat traveled down his stomach as I took in the beauty of the man who was making me feel so so good.
Getting turned on even more just from Matt’s visual pleasure, my walls clenched subconsciously and I whined, “Please keep going Matty.” His eyes snapped open and landed on mine, before he leaned forward — one hand beside my head and the other planted firmly to the small of my back — and began pounding into me relentlessly.
The depth of this position allowed me to feel every inch of his cock, and it became impossible to keep the moans and strings of profanity from escaping my lips. This seemed to be the case for Matt too, as over the sounds of my own moans and the wet sounds of our bodies connecting, I could hear the gruff throaty moans of his own pleasure. “Fuck. You’re so fucking tight Y/n.” Even though I was aware that we were both making far too much noise that Chris and Nick would definitely hear, I couldn’t get myself to bring it to Matt’s attention, as the animalistic vocalization of his indulgence was bringing me closer and closer to my climax.
“I-I need to cum Matty.” I managed to vocalize as my nerves began to unravel. “Hold it. Want you to cum with me.” He responded, leaning even further forward so that his body was practically lying on top of mine. He took a free hand and wrapped it around my throat, lightly squeezing the sides as my pleasure became dangerously close to bubbling over.
“P-Please cum for me. I can’t hold it anymore.” I begged, digging my nails into his silk bedsheets and feeling my walls quiver each time he drove his cock into my cervix. His breathing became hitched in my ear and his movements became sloppier. Biting my ear, he asked, “Where do you want me to cum, Y/n?”
Without wasting time, I moaned my response. “Cum in me please. Want you to fill me with it.” At that, Matt slammed his twitching cock into me a few more times before finally telling me what I so desperately needed him to.
“Okay sweetheart. Go ahead and make a mess for me.” Even before his words fully left his dirty mouth, I gave into the overbearing pressure in my stomach and felt my intense orgasm over-take me. Practically screaming his name, my pussy convulsed uncontrollably. I felt the immediate relief and heard the gush as I squirted along his cock and down his legs. “Jesus.” He moaned out as his body suddenly stilled. As my legs shook, I could feel his cock twitching inside of me; painting my walls with his cum.
After we both came down from our highs, catching our breath and reconnecting with our minds, Matt slowly pulled his dick — freshly bathed in my own juices — out of my swollen core. With a satisfied sigh, he threw his body onto the bed beside mine. Both of us laid there for a moment, facing one another with glazed over expressions, before a shameless smile crept onto Matt’s face.
“Well you definitely didn’t squirt the last time we slept together.” He chuckled proudly, and I knew his ego had been inflated. I rolled my eyes. “Well, you didn’t whimper the last time we fucked either.” It was my turn to smile as he covered his face bashfully. We laid there in silence for a moment, both of us lethargic and fucked out.
“If that was anything like when ya’ll lost your virginities then I am extremely impressed.”
Matt and I both shot our heads up and looked around the room for the origin of that familiar voice. We were alone, but my eyes focused on the lit-up computer. On the screen, Matt’s Discord was open to the group with Nick and Chris. I turned to look at Matt, who had also clearly made the same discovery that I had, and whispered, “Did you for real leave the channel unmuted?” He tucked his lips together and shrugged apprehensively, before climbing off the bed and over to the computer.
“Chris, how much of that did you hear?” He asked into his headset. I heard a laugh through the mic. “Oh Matt, I heard it all. Good work. I’m a proud brother.” I covered my face in embarrassment as Matt rolled his eyes. “Fuck off. You’re a perv.” He mumbled to his brother, but I caught the small smile that tried to creep to his lips.
“I’m gonna need a fucking lobotomy to get over the trauma that I was just put through.” I heard Nick’s voice now through the mic and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Bro you could have just left the server, you act like I forced you to listen to the entire thing.” Matt argued with his older brother. “You think I stayed and listened to the ENTIRE thing? What are you crazy?” I was full out laughing now, despite the embarrassment. “I left as soon as I figured out what was happening, but I still heard waaaay too much.” Matt laughed now and muted his mic — perhaps a bit too late — then walked back to where I was on the bed, propped up on my forearms.
“Whoops.” He simply said as he pulled his boxers back up. I shook my head and smiled shyly. “We are literally never going to be able to live that down.” I replied as he draped his body along the bed beside me again. Rubbing his eyes awkwardly, he shrugged softly. “Well, at least they’re gonna have to stop teasing me about my skills.” I smacked his arm playfully and he responded by grabbing me swiftly and pulling me to his side.
“You were impressed, weren’t you?” He asked teasingly, as he held me close. I closed my eyes and sighed, “I was, Matt. Really, really, impressed.” He giggled into my neck at my truthful response and I swatted him once again.
“I’m glad we got our re-do. I’d been wanting that for a while.” He said after a moment. I looked at him with a smile and ruffled his hair. “Me too, honestly. I always knew you had some potential in you.” I teased.
“Well, if you don’t want to have to face Nick right now, you’re welcome to sleep in here tonight.” He offered and I sighed in relief. “That would be great, actually.” I said as I began to sit up. “Let’s get cleaned up first though.” He began as he got up and grabbed us both towels from his closet, “You’re not allowed to get under my sheets until you wash my children off your thighs.” My eyes shot open at his disgusting choice of words and I quickly covered myself with my towel. “Matthew Bernard you are sick!” I exclaimed as we both headed towards his bathroom. “Sure am. But so are you.”
He pulled me into a hug while we stood in the bathroom waiting for the shower to warm up. As he rubbed circles on my back with his hand, I sighed. “I think this is the secret to good friendship.” He chuckled before asking, “What is?” Playfully, I smacked his ass over his boxers. “Fucking the shit out of each other once in a while.” He laughed and pulled away from the hug before getting into the shower; leaving the glass door open so that I could follow him. “Shut your weird ass up and get in the shower with me, friend.”
#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo smut#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x you
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Who Builds Theseus' Ship?
This ties in to a greater discussion about Larian's changes to the game post-Full Release, and whether you consider those changes to be a good thing or a bad thing. Personally speaking, the quality-of-life and gameplay mechanics improvements were appreciated, while the direct changes to characters and especially characterization were not so much.
In such discussions, I often see people downplaying the actual changes to characterization that have been made thus far as "minor" things, but I often see one of the most glaring examples of a characterization change left out, because so many people aren't even aware of it ever happening:
Halsin.
For those who don't know, if you were romancing Halsin at the time of the original full release, and for almost four months afterward, if you took him with you to Act 3's orgy scene in Sharess's Caress, he would open up about a situation in his distant past. He would tell you about how he had briefly been "something between guest, prisoner, and consort" in a drow House, and been kept there for three years before escaping.
He stated that this was something that happened "a long time ago", when he was "a foolhardy young druid", which would mean it would likely have been between ages 100 and 245 — or at minimum 105 years ago, and at (likely) maximum 250 years ago. He closed the discussion with a line that really struck me, and that gave me such an appreciation for his character, and for the writers who had created it:
The passage of time has a strange way of polishing even the most arduous of memories into precious keepsakes.
As someone in their late-20s, with a number of traumatic events in my past, this resonated so much both with my experience of those events – once harrowing and haunting, now just simple happenings that do not affect me the way they once did – and as an inspirational message, that hurt would not necessarily linger forever.
Not only that, I really valued the insight it gave into Halsin's personality, further showing him to be someone who was deeply complex and meditative, always looking for meaning and something to take away or learn from any experience. It also served to showcase the likely reality of the relationship elves and druids both would have to the concepts of time and memory. (Another example of this is the experience of Shadowheart's father compared to her mother at the hands of the Sharrans.)
I started playing the game almost immediately upon its release in August, and was intrigued by Halsin from the start. He was someone who was kind and heartfelt, but also very settled in himself and with a simultaneously rigid and very flexible moral code. It was that complexity that drew me to him, and I appreciated the inclusion of a character distinct from the Origin companions, all at close to the lowest point of their lives.
It was to my surprise to find that this appreciation for his character and perspective on his Act 3 revelation was not unanimous. As it turned out, there was a vocal group of people claiming that this writing was problematic, and that Halsin clearly didn't even realize he was actually traumatized, and that Larian needed to fix it. Not everyone joining in with this crusade had even played the game.
And, ultimately, in a pattern they have continued to follow, Larian responded. They fixed it. At the end of November, as part of Patch 5, they uploaded an edited version of the scene with new dialogue, where the player could express this "reality" to Halsin, in one of the most gallingly patronizing statements I've ever seen.
Sounds traumatic. You may need to reflect on that.
(If someone said this to me after I had opened up to them about my trauma and my experience of it to them, we would not be maintaining a cordial relationship afterward.)
Halsin's new response to these dialogue options is a cringing, self-deprecating cascade of how the player is of course right, and he should have known better, and time could "prove to be a trickster on one's recollections" and that perhaps he had "lost perspective".
Quite frankly, it is a completely different character answering, and an almost directly opposing overall message about the role of time in healing, and the path forward when it comes to trauma. No more "one day these events will not hurt to recall the way they do now". In its stead: "only healing that looks a specific way and follows a specific path is acceptable - anything else and you are simply a poor fool lying to yourself."
The following quote is from a comment left on a video of Halsin's original dialogue in that scene, before the changes, and is just one example of how much that representation meant to more than just me to see:
That said, Halsin is trauma recovery goals for me absolutely. Being able to remember without actually being triggered? Being able to fully and freely engage HOW ID LIKE TO instead of being fettered by trauma responses? Goals. I don’t know if I’ll ever get there 100%, we don’t get elven lifetimes irl, but his level of healing brings me hope.
Ultimately, this post is not meant to argue that you should agree with me that one is better than the other. More so, I want to highlight that this existed — for many people, this was their experience of events and characters, and that is not so easily redacted. And I also want to just state, for the record, that Larian's way of approaching narrative and characterization changes to their full-release game has been incredibly frustrating. I did not agree, in August, to play an Early Access game with the inherent understanding that any potential narrative aspect might change at any time. I purchased a full-release game, and immersed myself in the story and the characters, to get to know them as the writers had originally presented.
And when Larian makes these changes based on fan feedback, they are explicitly making decisions about which fans matter, and specifically, which fans matter most. Rather than allowing everyone to experience the story they decided to tell, and draw from it what they take away, and let that spark discussion and engagement, they made the decision to defer to some fans over others, and prioritize their experience of the narrative — something that, no matter how well-intended, is always going to leave a bitter taste in my mouth.
#voidling speaks#bg3#bg3 meta#my meta#it feels insane to have to do archival work for a six month old game#but here we are#halsin#larian#larian critical#baldur's gate 3#bg3 halsin#meta
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Just Take It | Jeon Jungkook | Part Five
Summary: You start a conversation with Jungkook about where you stand but are interrupted by an uninvited visitor
Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap)
Word Count: 4.7K~
Warnings: Suggestive and explicit language (an argument). Nothing too crazy honestly. Horribly edited too because it's been three weeks and I wanted to get it out!
a/n: Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out but I was away from home for a week and then wrote a couple of one shots and blah blah blah lol but anyways I hope you enjoyyyy
Requested by: @kkusadmirer 💜
After our eventful afternoon Jungkook and I ended up laying in his bed and watching movies since like he said, he wanted me to be "well rested" before we have the talk. The talk that could change everything between us...
There are multiple outcomes to this scenario and I'm not sure if I'm ready for any of them.
On one hand he could say this was all a mistake and he was just acting on his urges. I know now for damn sure though that he's attracted to me but I don't know what his motives and feeling are towards me. If he even has any besides surface level physical attraction.
On the other hand he could want to pursue a friends with benefits sort of arrangement. Being fuck buddies or whatever with an older man does sound exciting when I think about doing it with him. It's just that don't know if I'd want something like that even if it was with him.
I told Jared before that I wanted to save myself for marriage and I feel like that's something I still want to stick to. I've definitely crossed so many lines with Jungkook in the last not even twenty four hours, more like twelve hours or something like that but regardless lines have been crossed and I'm still not sure how I feel about any of it.
I want to say that I don't regret it and it's not just because it felt fucking phenomenal and out of this world but because I feel safe with him.
It might just be because over the past couple of months that I've been living with him he's become someone I care about and honestly trust with my life so I didn't really feel a need to say no to him. I wanted it to happen, I know I did I just didn't really think it would ever happen. I thought that it would stay in my hormonal fantasies forever and I was okay with that.
The way he's been treating me has shown me that he cares about me. Although I was trying to convince myself that it was somewhat of a paternal instinct in him and that he was just being protective over me, I knew that it was something beyond that.
I tried to somewhat address it in a weird sort of way with the whole asking why he didn't have anyone over conversation and he knew what I was trying to ask and addressed it but his answer made me even more confused.
"I wouldn't want to ruin what we have going on here" like what does that even mean? He doesn't want to ruin the dynamic we have in the house in terms of we're comfortable with each other and feel no need to let anyone inside our little safe space.
Or did he mean that he didn't want to ruin what we have going on here because he wanted to see where things went with us on a more romantic level?
He hasn't explicitly told me that he would want to pursue a relationship with me but circling back to before he's given me clear signs that he's attracted to me and isn't one to hide it.
He knows to a certain extent that I find him attractive too because I asked him to take my virginity. (I'm never gonna be able to live that one down) Anyone could tell that he was clearly struggling to hold himself back and the fact that he kissed me just shows that he wanted to. That he wanted me.
Then there's another possibility that he might want a sugar baby sort of relationship and I don't even want to think about something like that.
Don't get me wrong! I respect the hustle, but that's just not for me.
If I'm gonna be doing something like what we are doing right now then I want it to be something that I want to do without any ulterior motive. I don't want to put a monetary value on the time I spend with him but not gonna lie, living it large and not having to worry about money or working sounds very tempting.
I don't think he's that kind of man though...or at least I hope he's not.
"Penny for your thoughts?" he asks playfully, having noticed that I haven't really been paying attention to the movie we've been watching.
"Just thinking" I answer, cuddling in closer to him as I've refused to let go of him today and he hasn't made moves to do any different.
"Bout what?" he prods further, placing a kiss on the top of my head and taking in the fresh scent of his shampoo in my hair.
"Things" I continue, liking the game we've started to play.
"What sort of things?" he chuckles, telling me that he's enjoying it too.
"All kinds of things" I say nuzzling closer into him and he wraps his arm tighter around me to keep me there.
"Wanna share a few?" he asks, clearly not letting this go since he wants to at least make sure I'm okay.
"Thinking about how you might want to make me your sugar baby" I mumble into his chest and he laughs wholeheartedly making me even more embarrassed.
"Is that something you'd want?" he asks and I shake my head.
"You don't wanna be at home and sit pretty, waiting for me to come back and shower you with gifts and jewelry and give you the world?" he teases while pinching my sides making me pull away from him, trying to escape.
"N-no! Now s-stop" I choke out through laughter and gasps of breath. "What would you want" he asks after having tackled me down onto the mattress making sure to do a thorough job of tickling me until I could barely breathe.
I take a second to think, my eyes going back and forth between his while his stay still, focused and almost begging for an answer.
"I thought we weren't going to have this conversation until I was well rested" I say, breathless, still not knowing up from down when it comes to us. If there even is an 'us'.
"You feel well rested?" he asks, cocking a brow at me and I nod my head quickly, giving me a crooked smile in response. "Then it's perfect timing right?" he continues and I nod again leaving him getting off of me and leaning his back against the headboard, waiting to hear what I have to say.
I take a minute or so to gather my thoughts and the whole time he's watching me curiously, almost able to see the wheels turning in my head.
"What happened between us kind of caught me by surprise" I start, looking down at my lap and playing with my fingers nervously. "I don't regret it, it was just, well I'm just kind of confused about how you feel about me, and I'm really confused about how I feel about you" I admit and I can see his expression go a bit wary but I jump at the chance to explain myself.
"It's just that I think both of us know at this point that we're extremely attracted to each other" I start out and the corner of his lips upturns for a second but nods in confirmation, waiting for me to continue.
"With us getting physical and all so quickly I can't help but think that maybe we should take a step back. I would like to know your thoughts and intentions and feelings about all of this. I might be overthinking it but I really think it's best to be up front and honest with each other" I say and take in a shaky breath, scared I might've said the wrong thing.
"You're so sexy when you act so mature like that" he taunts and I groan, wanting to keep this serious. "I'm just playing Bunny. Well I'm not because you really are sexy but I don't want you to feel all nervous and insecure like you are right now. We're being open and honest right?" he questions and I nod my head, eager for him to continue.
"Meaning it would be the perfect opportunity to tell you that I have feelings for you right?" he says and my eye bug out in response, not knowing what to do now. "Wasn't expecting that huh?" he chuckles and I shake my head making him laugh even more.
"Cat got your tongue Darling?" he teases and scoff at that. "No I was just being polite and letting you keep talking since you let me do the same" I say, making excuses and trying to keep my voice level.
"Sure Bunny" he smirks not believing a word I said but continuing nevertheless.
"I've had feelings for you for a while now and I haven't told you or acted on it because I wanted to respect the fact that you were in a relationship. I never liked Jared though for what it's worth" he says without hesitation and it makes me cringe at the thought that I was about to marry that snake.
"Is it harsh to say I'm glad he's out of the picture?" he says boldly making me laugh. "Not just because it benefitted me but because he didn't deserve to marry a beautiful, intelligent, kind hearted woman like you. I would've said something but I'm not your father so I knew it wasn't my place" he finishes and making me smile, thankful that he was so considerate.
Now that I think about it, even back then I respected and trusted his judgement so it wouldn't have bothered me even if he did say something.
"It's not harsh to say because I'm happy about it too. To be honest though I don't really know what I ever saw in him. I think because he was the first guy that more or less respected my boundaries that I thought I had to hold onto him. I don't know" I say and he nods his head.
This is something I haven't experienced before. Someone sitting and taking the time to actually talk things out without any outside distractions and focusing on each other and hearing each other out.
Maybe it's just an age thing and the fact that Jungkook does fit the standard of dating older and more mature men is better. We're not dating though, but I guess we'll hopefully figure out where we stand once this conversation comes to a close.
"I'm really confused and I kind of don't know how to feel but I'm not closed off to figuring things out" I say, glancing up at him and back down at my lap, nervous from seeing how fascinated he is with me right now.
I hold my breath and wait for him to say something but when nothing ever comes I chance looking up at him again and I'm surprised to see how he's still watching me.
"Like I said, I've had feelings for you for a while and if you're open to seeing where things go then I would really like to take you out on a date. Like on a proper date. I know since we've been living together and we've been spending a lot of time together but I-" he start off strong but begins to ramble and is regretfully cut off by the sound of the front door opening.
"Dad! Dad where are you?" Jina calls out and neither of us dares to move or make a sound. "Dad" Jina drags out, regretfully confirming that I am in fact not dreaming. "Be down in a second" he says then presses a finger to his lips.
"Just stay in here and I'll take care of it" he whispers and I nod my head, watching him as he panics internally before leaving the room and closing the door softly behind him.
What the hell are we gonna do? My car is out there! Or wait, did I put it in the garage yesterday? I can't remember but I really hope it's not out there otherwise she'll already know I'm here.
"What are you doing here?" Jungkook says. I can hear his muffled voice through the walls and I know I probably shouldn't listen but curiosity gets the best of me making me rush to the door and quietly crack it open, needing to hear how this conversation goes.
"Nice to see you too dad" she says, and I hate the fact that I'm only able to hear them but I'll settle for this.
"You should've contacted me before you came over Jina. You know I don't like people showing up unannounced" he says sternly.
"You're usually totally fine with me coming over" she says sounding thoroughly confused and I can hear Jungkook clear his throat before she starts again.
"Am I interrupting something?" she asks after no doubt clocking the dishes that were left over from lunch. Two plates, two cups and two sets of silverware. A dead giveaway that someone is here especially since it hasn't been cleaned up yet.
"You are actually" he says and I trip, surprised that he would straight up admit it but he has no reason to hide, and neither do I.
Having pushed the door open thanks to my clumsiness (somehow able to stay upright and keep my dignity this time) I'm faced with the dilemma of if I should just go back inside and pretend that never happened when it clearly did or come out and face her.
I'm given the luxury of having that choice since she hasn't seen me yet but I decide it's better to do this as soon as possible. We've hid the fact that I've been living here for two months so what's adding on the fact that I've been messing around with her father while doing so.
(Although this is a newly added feature but she doesn't need to know that)
I take a deep breath before stepping out from behind the door, watching Jina's face go from surprised to confused to disgusted to angry before turning back towards her father.
"You're fucking my best friend?" she accuses, not completely wrong but semantics.
"Best friend's don't fuck around and get pregnant by their friend's fiancees" I remind her, walking down the stairs in conveniently only Jungkook's shirt making what's going on, or what's starting to go on between us even more clear.
"Oh grow up! It's not like there's anything we can do to change that now can we? Plus looks like you're doing just fine without him" she throws at me and from that moment I'm not pulling any punches. She wants to play dirty? Fine, let's play dirty.
"Jina stop it" Jungkook growls, going on the defensive, not being able to gauge what kind of mindset she's in or even her reasoning for coming here but wanting her out all the same.
"Grow up?" I chuckle dryly, "I guess you're right, I guess maybe I have started growing up since it seems I've matured enough to be with someone like your father. Which, last time I checked, wasn't someone you have any business in questioning on things like his sex life and who he does and does not partake in it with" I say, placing a hand on his bicep possessively and I feel the tension he had once held in his body start to melt away.
Interesting to know that I have this effect on him...
"Come on, we both know that you're probably just a piece of ass to him" she scoffs before turning to address him. "Didn't know you started picking up strays. I wondered where she had ran off to" she says, continuing to disrespect the both of us without a care in the world.
"Don't call her that!" Jungkook says, jaw clenched as a way to keep himself in check.
All I see is red though and the next words I hurl out are ones that I couldn't stop myself from saying even if I tried. The ringing in my ears fanning the flames of my agitation making it impossible to hold back.
"How's life being pregnant with my fucking ex boyfriend's baby? He's probably taking real good care of you huh?" I taunt, cocking a brow at her and from the way the color rushes to her cheeks and the words die in her throat are enough to tell me everything I need to know.
He hasn't done shit for her.
She balls her hands into fists by her side and lunges at me but Jungkook jumps in between us, grabs her by the shoulders and turns her around, forcing her out the front door.
"You're gonna throw me out and choose that slut over your own daughter?" she yells struggling to get out of his grasp the whole way.
"Last time I checked honey the only slut around these parts is you" I throw back, following right behind them and the way her jaw drops is just priceless.
"That's enough! Jina go!" Jungkook says through gritted teeth letting go of her once she's passed the thresh hold, leaving her standing there, looking between the two of us before scoffing and storming off down the driveway.
"I knew you were obsessed with her I just never thought you would bother acting on it" Jina spits out at her father and when she sees that he doesn't flinch she hurls more baseless lies and insults at the both of us.
"You know she's just using you to get a place to stay and get over her ex right? What happened to staying a virgin until you got married y/n? Huh? Guess getting cheated on really fucked you up" she spits while unlocking her car.
"And I guess fucking around with an ego-driven two-timing narcissist gets you pregnant" I throw back and she purses her lips before sinking down in her car, accepting defeat this time and leaving like her father told her to.
"Say hi to Jared for me" I call out, waving at her as she grips the steering wheel until her knuckles have gone white, putting it in drive and backing out of the driveway.
I walk over to the couch and let out a big sigh once I've sat down, throwing my head in my hands as a way to ground myself.
Breathing through this dizzy feeling from that whole confrontation that I had not been prepared for is a lot tougher than I thought it would be, my whole body still buzzing.
I hear Jungkook close the door behind him after having watched her speed down the street, still worried for her safety but also wanting to make sure she was actually gone. What happened just now was enough of a confrontation to last me a lifetime, or at least it feels that way.
"Hey" he whispers, kneeling in front of me and rubbing my back, "Are you okay?" he continues and I nod my head, feeling the tears prickling in my eyes, calling my bluff.
"Come here" he whispers, sitting on the couch next to me and pulling me onto his lap, rubbing my back again and holding me while I let out some of those tears I had held back.
"I don't even know why I crying" I say, sniffling and sitting back up to dry my eyes.
"No one likes getting into fights with someone they used to care about. Well, nobody sane likes getting into fights with someone they used to care about" he says, trying to lighten the mood and it does the trick making me scoff a bit, smiling at his efforts to make me feel better.
He cups my face and wipes a few tears that had fallen, looking at me with his brows pinched together as if his heart is breaking with mine.
"But you still care about her though, don't you?" he asks and I nod my head. "It's hard not to" I admit, getting off his lap and sitting next to him which makes him angle his body to face mine, taking hold of one of my hands, encouraging me to speak my mind.
"She's been my best friend for the past six years. That's not something that can magically be turned off for me. I know what she did to me was devastating and I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive her for it. I'm still trying to heal from it all so I don't know, I couldn't help but defend myself, and you. I'm sorry you had to see that" I say, mumbling the last part and feeling so much regret for saying those ugly things about his daughter right in front of him.
"Everyone has a right to defend themselves and when you're being attacked like that, you can't help but say hurtful things. She had no right and she knew that and wanted to hurt the both of us anyway" he says and I take a deep breath before turning my attention back to him because she said just as many hurtful things to him as she did to me.
"Are you okay?" I question, tightening my hold on his hand to hopefully encourage him to be vulnerable with me as well.
He nods his head with a sad smile and waits a beat before saying anything and I hold my breath until he does.
"No one wants their daughter to end up in the kind of situation she put herself in or see the people that they care about hurting but what she said didn't hurt me" he says and I nod my head, paying attention to his hand that I have placed in my lap, tracing the swirls of ink with my eyes as they travel further up his arm.
"What did hurt me though was the way she was talking about you. You know that's not how I feel about you at all right?" he says, tilting my face up towards him making purposeful eye contact with me, needing to know that I believe him.
"I know" I nod, giving him a sad smile accompanied by my still glossy eyes making him even more sad seeing how upset all of this has made me.
"Can I do anything to make you feel better?" he asks, cupping my face and keeping my eyes on him when I try to turn them away. "No, I'll be okay" I shake my head and he studies my features before nodding and accepting my words at face value.
"Okay, do you wanna go back up to my room? You can sleep in there with me if you'd like" he says, brushing a tear dampened strand of hair out of my face.
I give him a mischievous smile, telling him I know what he's up to but he pulls away and puts his hands up in a way to defend his motives.
"Just sleep, I promise. Scouts honor" he says, crossing his heart and I laugh at his playfully defensive nature. "Sure" I say, taking hold of his hand while he stands up and leads me back to his bedroom.
~~~~
After having talked a little bit more about what had happened the topic of conversation circles back to what we had been in the middle of before she showed up.
"So earlier it seemed like you wanted to ask me a question" I say, taking a sip from my soda that had come with the take out we had ordered hours ago, toying with the straw and keeping his attention.
"Yeah? And do you know what your answer might be to said question?" he teases, wetting his lips and keeping his eyes trained on mine.
"You have to ask the questions first Daddy" I say placing my drink down on his nightstand and when I turn to face him again he's tackling me down on the bed peppering kisses all over me.
"Stoooppp" I giggle and he laughs along with me before leaning back to hover over me. "Will you go out with me?" he asks and I can tell that this whole moment has him feeling like a teenager again.
"I thought you'd never ask" I say, running my fingers through his hair making him lean into my touch.
"You can't take it back though. Once we do this I won't ever let you go" he husks out, placing a kiss on my palm and I shutter at the feeling. "Then don't" I breathe out making a flame of desire flash through his eyes.
"You're gonna get yourself in trouble you know that?" he warns, placing a kiss on my nose before getting off me and turning off the tv. "Hey! I was watching that!" I pout "No you weren't" he chuckles. "Plus it's time to go to bed. We've got a big day ahead of us" he says, getting under the covers and motioning for me to do the same.
"Big day?" I question, not remembering we had something on the agenda this weekend. "I may or may not have planned out our date this morning while you were still in bed Sleeping Beauty" he says, pulling me onto his chest but I sit up pulling away from him with my brows scrunched together.
"How were you so sure I would say yes?" I scoff, shocked by his bold assumption. "From the way I've been making you moan my name I figured you wouldn't mind going on one date with me in return" he says and my jaw drops, throwing the covers off myself and making a break for it but he yanks me back towards him making me flop down on the bed.
"You can't just say things like that" I whine, hands over my eyes as a way to block him out of my vision and hide the very apparent blush that I'm sure is starting to bloom.
"Am I wrong?" he taunts, placing kisses on my neck and collarbone, dangerously close to making me moan his name again.
"You're no fair" I say, pushing him off and giving him my back making him chuckle at my shy behavior. He lays down and pulls me back into him. My back now against his chest and his hand placed on my hip where I'm again reminded that I'm only wearing his shirt and my under ware.
"Keep your hands to yourself Mr." I tease while prying his hand off me. "Come on darling, you know I'm a man of my word. Just sleep, nothing else" he says, this time sliding his hand further up to hold onto my bare waist.
"Fine" I grumble out and he laughs and nuzzles his nose into my neck, taking another deep breath, flooding his senses with my scent.
"Goodnight Bunny" he mumbles against my skin. "Goodnight Daddy I tease and am rewarded with a slap on my ass.
"Did, did you just spank me?" I say trying to wiggle out of his hold but he's already got his arm wrapped around my waist again. "I told you that pretty little mouth of yours was gonna get you into trouble didn't I?" he says, switching to rubbing his hand along the tender flesh he just struck, caressing it in a way to ease the pain.
I pout and settle back into the bed, not dignifying his words with a response. It's only when I accidentally move my hips backwards do I freeze from gaining a soft moan from him, no doubt caught off guard from the contact of my ass up against him.
"Sorry I didn't mean to I-" "I know Bunny, just go to sleep" he says placing a kiss on my neck and holding my hips in place, putting a little more space between us.
As I slow my breathing to a steady one I start to lull myself to sleep but I flinch at the sound of his cute snores in my ear. 'Something I'll have to tease him about in the morning' I giggle to myself and take his hand off my hip, choosing instead to hold it against my chest having him surrounding me. Soon I'm slipping into that dreamland he had drifted off to moments before, safe and warm being in his arms.
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come back to me 1 | pro hero k. bakugo
tags: you two are divorced and parents + angst + repost from my old blog + this part and all the others have been edited to add more
part two | part three | part four
Loud squealing could be heard coupled with loud laughter and heavy footsteps when you knocked on Katsuki’s door. It was the Monday following his weekend with your children and you dreaded this.
Not that you would ever keep Aya and Kouki away from their dad, after all, they are a lot alike. "Mommy!" Aya cried when she was the first one to open the door followed by Katsuki who was dressed up as a villain of sorts if you had to guess.
It's just seeing the only man you ever loved after such a painful divorce that made your heart ache and twist in your chest, and not in a good way either.
They were clearly in the middle of playtime and your stomach dropped. Your ex-husband stood behind his mini him, the little one who looks so much like him down to the resting mean face. "I told you not to open the door without me present my princess." He grumbled with a huff.
"I knew it was mommy though!" She shot back with a little bit of an attitude and waited until you crouched down before wrapping her small arms around your neck followed by her older brother who was dressed as a hero and came running towards you.
Katsuki watched you hug your babies who weren't babies anymore, with Kouki who just turned seven, and Aya five. "I was able to beat the villain and save the princess!" He announced proudly with a smile.
You raised an eyebrow and laughed looking at them and stood up as they both looked at each other. “I’m glad you guys are having fun. Are you two ready to go? It’s getting late and a thunderstorm is going to start very soon so we need to get back before it starts.”
“Can we stay a little longer, please? We still have to finish this and have dinner.” Aya asked, her bottom lip jutted out perfecting the perfect pout to try and persuade it to fall in her favor, her red eyes turned glassy making you nod your head in agreement.
Your eyebrows knitted together a bit as you stood up and looked at Katsuki. You really didn’t want to stay any longer and have to be around the man who has seen every fiber of who you are, and the part that sucked is you still love him so much it hurts at times.
It took him a while for him to admit he liked you but the day he did you'll never forget it, it was the night of high school graduation when he pulled you into an empty classroom to tell you how he felt.
From there you both spent a lot more time together, eventually, he was your first kiss and first everything, he's the only man you've been with and you don't think you're quite ready to get with someone else.
When you got pregnant at the tender age of nineteen, a year after high school it only made sense to get married and you were highly in love with Katsuki but later it all came crumbling down when his job took precedence over everything in his life, including his family.
He’s still madly in love with you and has been since middle school, during his time at UA the relationship was strained a bit as you didn’t go there and his dream of being a pro hero meant everything to him but he still did his best in spending time with you.
Four years into the marriage it was to the point that you couldn’t bear it anymore, no matter how many conversations you had to have about it nothing ever changed and you couldn’t hold him back either.
At the age of twenty-three, you found yourself a single mother with two children.
“If you want I’d never tell you no, it wouldn’t hurt to have dinner as a family.” Katsuki said with a slight grunt as he watched you step inside the house you two bought years ago. You kicked your shoes off and scooped up your children kissing their cheeks with a soft smile.
You followed the blonde male into the kitchen and sat Kouki and Aya down in their chairs at the table. The room smelled delicious, yet another thing you missed about Katsuki then your mind filled with painful memories of spending time dancing in the kitchen.
Aya watched and followed you once you departed from the table, her tiny fist curled into your pant leg. “Did Daddy tell you he has a girlfriend?” She asked looking up at you with an innocent smile.
Your heart sunk to your stomach like a rock being thrown into a lake. It seems he’s moved on and there’s nothing wrong with it because you were the one to ask for the divorce. “No he didn’t, is she nice to you?” You asked in return hoping your voice didn't creak or break.
It's been three years since the divorce and it only made sense for him to move on, you didn't blame him but that didn't lessen the pain you felt, it was a never-ending soft pulsing pain that stung.
Katsuki stared at his daughter while making the plates, it was something he wanted to share with you privately but it seems like now is the best time. He could see it clear as day the pain in your eyes and wondered why you felt such a way after divorcing him.
“She is yes! She takes Kouki and me to school and makes desserts!” Aya replied not understanding how that could affect you in such a manner.
Katsuki cleared his throat and made the table. “Sit down, Aya.” He told her.
His voice was soft but still something you didn’t want to argue with. Your bottom lip wobbled a bit as your stomach curled. “How would you two like it if you were able to stay with your dad one more day? I’ll pick you up tomorrow.” You asked with a soft smile that was fake.
The air felt thick inside your lungs, like it was mud and breathing was no longer an option. You needed to get out of there before you broke down in a fit of tears and the last thing you wanted was for your kids to see such a thing. You knew why it hurt still. You love Katsuki.
“You don’t have -” Katsuki began then cut off at the eager nod of their heads at the prospect of being able to stay. You smiled and kissed their foreheads and swiftly gave each a tight hug before pulling away to stand up.
You looked at Katsuki and then down at your plate, you were starving but wouldn't be able to stay any longer to eat, and he was right, it would be nice to have a family dinner until the bomb was dropped.
Was it a bit cowardly to run away? Perhaps.
But you couldn't help how you felt about him. You'd always love him no matter what.
Aya dug into her food as did your son thanking their dad for everything. "Before the storm hits I gotta go, and my apartment is about thirty minutes away anyway." You explained and turned your attention back to your children.
"I'll see you two tomorrow morning then, be good and make sure you listen well to your daddy." Your voice wavered with unshed emotions, and being by yourself meant you could get the chance to calm down and think about him moving on.
With another handful of hugs and forehead kisses, you walked to the front door to slip your shoes on and open the door only for it to be shut, and Katsuki's arm next to your head as he stood behind you so close you could feel his warmth and smell his cologne and him.
His chest brushed against your back when he took in a deep breath. "Don't go. The kids don't want you to go, you can sleep in ou- my bed and I'll take the couch, it's raining already anyway, so stay here."
You cleared your throat and turned to look at him, but instead, your gaze dropped down to the faded text of his Pro Hero name on his shirt. It was one you've worn too many times to count. "I'll take the couch then and we'll head out after breakfast then."
#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki x reader#katsuki x you#Katsuki x reader#Katsuki Bakugo x reader#Bakugo x reader#my hero academia x reader#mha x reader#bnha x reader#bnha x you#Katsuki x you#bnha bakugou#bakugou x reader#bakugou x you#bakugo katsuki
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chapter one | a berzatto family christmas
masterlist | next chapter ↣
pairing(s): carmen berzatto x fem!reader : platonic!michael berzatto x fem!reader : platonic!richie jerimovich x fem!reader
summary: you reunite with carmy years later at the berzatto family christmas party.
warnings: language (cursing), blasphemy, angst (maybe?), spoilers kinda (if you haven't seen season 2 don't read), the berzatto family, not dialogue heavy, very subtle hints to mikey being suicidal, probably ooc!characters, idk what else but if you find something let me know please! not beta’d and minimal editing so sorry for any mistakes. i also wrote this overstimulated on caffeine so if it doesn’t make sense or it’s repetitive then we know why : )
semantics: no use of Y/N: reader goes by the nickname Baby it has a backstory and its literally so simple, if this bothers you idk what to tell you, sorry : (
wc: 4.7k
You were standing on the sidewalk, nerves filling your body as you hyped yourself up to take the few steps left to the porch and ring the doorbell. You shouldn’t have been so nervous, you knew that but your mind was spinning with the myriad of scenarios both good and bad; that could play out once you stepped foot past the threshold. In all honesty, it wasn’t so much that you were nervous to enter the house itself, it was the fact that you’d be face to face with your childhood best friend for the first time in you didn’t even know how long. Maybe childhood best friend was a stretch you had only been introduced into each other's lives due to circumstance, and because of that forced proximity, you both took comfort in having someone stable around.
The two of you weren’t friends because you had chosen each other, or because you had met in kindergarten and shared toys in the sandbox because the other kids were stingy. No, you met because as a single mom, your mother needed all the shifts she could get even if that meant working the graveyard shift at the hospital, and only seeing you a handful of hours throughout the day because most times she was too dead on her feet to be conscious for more than a few hours. And when she could no longer pay the babysitter her next best option was the eccentric woman across the street who had children close in age with you.
Enter Donna Berzatto, a woman who came to feel like a second mom to you. It's not that she replaced your mom, no one could ever replace her, but she was the only real mother figure you knew for a time in your life. Who took you in as her own when your mother needed a new babysitter, and not just you but integrated your mom into the family as well, when she was spared the time off from nursing. Donna Berzatto who never sent you home empty-handed, and always made enough food for you and your mom to last throughout the week, just so your mother wouldn’t have to worry about fitting grocery shopping into her already hectic schedule. Donna Berzatto who, even when you were old enough to no longer need a babysitter, would send Carmy across the street to fetch you for family dinner, or even just invite you over because she thought you needed company.
Now that you were thinking about it, it seemed like you were more friends with his mom than you ever were with Carmen Berzatto. But then that would be a lie wouldn’t it?
You and Carmen Berzatto were friends due to circumstance, maybe even best friends. You weren’t just friends at his house, but you were school friends, you were everywhere friends. He really was your only true friend, of course, you had school friends, but that’s just what they were. You saw them Monday through Friday for a mandatory education, never an hour before school started or a minute after the final bell. Which didn’t necessarily bother you, but sometimes you longed for a weekend invitation to hang out, not that it ever came. And it wasn’t like you were shunned or unpopular in school, you were just average, you didn’t see a point in making friends with people you weren’t actually interested in befriending.
That’s what made Carmy so different, yes maybe you were only introduced due to circumstances but that didn’t stop the two of you from latching onto each other for dear life. Your mom always wondered how you two even established the friendship you did, with both of you being shy and never feeling the need to go out of your way to make friends. Include the fact that you had been neighbors practically your whole lives and never once taken an interest in each other aside from shy waves and curious childlike staring when either of you would be outside.
Your relationship with Carmen progressed as any childlike relationship would, you befriended each other, had your incessant petty arguments and fights, nothing ever serious enough to actually cause damage just childish antics. And it continued to progress through middle school and high school, the two of you were each other’s person, you just understood each other, the two of you let the other understand you, and wanted to be understood by each other.
You could also recall what you explain as a minute change in your friendship. As Senior year approached and you and Carmy continued to grow into yourselves, you developed a slight crush on the boy you had grown up with. It obviously wasn’t as small as you thought it was if you were standing in front of his childhood home giving yourself a pep talk just to ring the damn doorbell though was it?
The unsolicited card and wrapped present weighed heavy in your tote bag, as your breath was made visible by the chilly Chicago weather.
It was Christmas and for all intents and purposes you had been planning on mailing the present to Carmen’s New York address, but after visiting The Beef on your way back into town Mikey and Richie had let it slip that indeed the infamous Berzatto sibling would be gracing everyone with his presence this holiday season.
It was moments like these you wished you had picked up on the Berzatto family’s horrible smoking habit, thankfully your mom had taught you just how vital having functioning lungs was.
Your head shot up as the sound of loud rambunctious voices drew your attention to the front door opening and closing revealing a face you were all too familiar with and actually relieved to see. The oldest Berzatto brother stood on the porch, hands on his hips as he gave you a goofy smile. You could feel your lips stretching into a smile of your own, the infectious aura that Michael Berzatto exuded doing wonders to calm your racing mind.
“I know you didn’t come all this way just to stand outside staring at my family home like a fucking weirdo Baby.” Mikey’s smile grew in size as he teased you.
You rolled your eyes at the childhood nickname you wish hadn’t stuck as Mikey opened his arms to wrap you in one of his signature hugs. The two of you stood on the porch embracing each other for what felt like hours, you needed this hug as much as he needed it, you knew it and Mikey did too. That was the thing about you and Mikey although not blood-related it was as if your souls knew each other in a past life. Of the Berzatto siblings, Mikey was the last sibling you developed a relationship with. Growing up he was always just Carmy’s older brother but as you grew up surrounded by him, he became your surrogate older brother as well. And when Carmy dashed off to pursue his culinary dreams in New York, you and Mikey grew even closer.
You stepped back from the embrace, your eyes finding Mikey’s as he looked at you with a knowing glint in his eyes. “You not standing out here cause of a certain Chef in that house are ya?” Mikey asked, smirking down at you.
You chuckled “The only reason I come around anymore is for Mama Donna.” You joked doing a poor job to convince Mikey.
He nodded, tossing his head back with a laugh, “You were always a shit liar Baby. Carmy’s an idiot, don't let him ruin your Christmas.”
You let out a sigh head resting against Mikey’s chest as you tried to let his words soothe you even more, “He’s not ruining it, you just know things have been kind of stilted between us, and I don’t know this whole situation just feels awkward.”
You raised your head to look at Mikey again, “It’s awkward right? Am I making things awkward? I don’t wanna ruin Christmas Mikey, I know how your mom is and I know how Carmy is, I don’t wanna ambush him.”
The worry in your voice was evident as Mikey stood there listening to your ranting. His hand reached out as he used his thumb to massage away the frown between your eyebrows. “Calm down Baby, you know Ma is expecting you, and she wouldn’t take it well if you missed Christmas. She looks forward to seeing you every year, you give her a piece of Carmy when he can’t be fucking asked to come home and visit.” His hand moved down to cup the side of your neck rubbing soothing circles where his thumb rested, “Do it for Ma okay? Let Carmy be fucking wonder boy Carmy a’ight.”
You laughed nodding your head as best as you could with Mikey’s hand holding it, he smiled giving you one last hug before dropping his hand to grab your wrist and tug you into the house. You stopped him by placing a hand on his arm that was connected to yours.
“Hold on Mikey, I got you something.” You moved to start rummaging through your tote bag stalling because you were too nervous for his reaction to the present.
“Awe you didn’t have to get me nothing.” You turned back to him with the present in your hands as he held his own hands over his heart mockingly. You knew Mikey didn’t do well when it came to sentimental things and the best you would get out of him was a joke as opposed to anything else.
You laughed holding the rectangular wrapped present out to him, “I wanted to Mikey, don’t think of this as a gift, think of it uhh…as a show of appreciation yeah?” You nodded feeling your face heat up as you dropped your head so he couldn’t see how unsure you were about the gift.
He smiled, finding your shyness endearing before tearing into the neatly wrapped paper and revealing a frame, his hands engulfing it from end to end. He smiled looking at it before you saw confusion etch across his face, “This is great Baby, yeah but uh what the fuck am I looking at?”
You shove his shoulder before laughing at him and grabbing the frame out of his hands but holding it in front of your chest so he could still see its contents, “It's a trademark certification you dumbass, can’t you fucking read Mikey.” You joked to try and underestimate how big of a gift this was.
Mikey’s brows furrowed before he snatched the frame out of your hands to get a better look at the certificate sitting behind the glass, eyes snapping back up to your face with a look you couldn’t read. You shuffled your feet feeling like you overstepped a boundary you didn’t even know was between you and Mikey, “Don’t worry though I-I, put it in your name, it’s not like I trademarked it for myself or anything. I just know how much this means to you and I, I know shit has been tough lately and I’m sorry if you feel like I stepped on your toes but…Mikey, you deserve good things too okay?” You hadn’t meant to go on a rant, but you could feel the apprehension leaving you as you became passionate in every word you spoke.
“You deserve to be fucking happy Mikey, and I, I want you to know I fucking believe in you and I’m always in your corner. If it's-” You were cut off by Mikey clearing his throat, causing your eyes to snap back up to his, all the emotions he didn’t know how to translate into words swirling in his brown eyes, a small smile resting on his lips.
“Mikey-,” Before you could get another word out you were once again trapped in his comforting embrace, this hug conveying something completely different from the earlier one you shared. Mikey’s head tucked into your neck as you felt his uneasy breathing through your hands clutched around him. Mikey wasn’t the type to get emotional in front of other people, and feeling a tear of his smear against your cheek as he raised his head from your neck and settled his bearded cheek against yours, you weren’t sure if you had done the right thing by giving him the gift or not.
The two of you stood in silence as you allowed Mikey his moment, not wanting to make him feel insecure about you being present while he was being emotional. When he finally pulled away you could see the leftover sheen in his eyes. He tucked the framed certificate under his arm as both his hands reached up to grab your face in both of his hands, eyes finding yours, a whispered “thank you, baby,” leaving his lips as he placed a kiss on your forehead before he grabbed the frame again and wrapped you in another hug.
His head rested atop yours as your face rested against his chest, ear pressed against his beating heart. You lied, you thought the last hug was different, but no it was this hug that was different, while the second hug you shared in the span of 20 minutes was a hug of love and gratitude. This hug felt heavier, like there were things Mikey wanted to tell you but couldn’t, things he only felt he could convey through a hug, things you weren’t sure if you wanted to question or not.
It had been almost 20 minutes since Michael had escaped the house to do whatever the fuck it was he was doing outside. Carmy didn’t know and in all honesty he didn’t actually give a shit either, too busy helping Donna out in the kitchen to try to give any thoughts to whatever had grabbed Mikey’s attention.
He was focused in the corner of the kitchen making Tiff Sprite to help alleviate her nausea symptoms. Anyone else would have done their best to block out the rambunctious noises going on throughout the house, not Carmy though, the chaos fueled him, it grounded him. If the house was quiet it would have been too much for him, to be alone with his own thoughts ping-ponging around in his head, waiting for a chance to drown him. So if he had to listen to his mom list a plethora of things he needed to make sure happened for Christmas dinner to go off without a hitch while he was making Sprite from scratch, he welcomed it.
He finished his concoction just in time for Richie to walk through the kitchen, the older man trying to figure out how the fuck it was even possible to make Sprite from scratch. Gratefully taking the glass Carmy had offered to him, marveling at the carbonated drink in his hand.
Carmy nodded in his direction, “Yo Cousin, where the fuck is Mikey. He just fucking disappeared.” Carmy’s head swiveled around the kitchen double checking whether his brother was there or not, coming up empty in his search. Richie glanced up before settling his eyes back on the drink in his hand still doing the mental math to wrap his head around what the fuck Carmy just made.
Richie jutted his head in the direction of the front door, “Outside talking to Baby.” His eyes finally focused on Carmy’s in time to see the frown grace the younger man’s face, his eyebrows pinching together in agitation, annoyed that his brother was on a phone call rather than inside. Though that’s what Carmy told himself subconsciously he knew he was just annoyed at the fact that Mikey was even talking to you at all. Carmy didn’t think he was possessive but as you and Mikey grew closer through the years, he couldn’t help but feel miffed about the ever growing friendship between the two of you. You and your friendship with Carmy was the first thing in his life that he felt like was actually his and his alone.
It’s funny really for Carmy to think he has any sort of claim over you, or like the two of you were even really friends anymore. When he left Chicago to pursue his culinary dreams, he left you behind to, essentially ghosting the one real friend he did have. It’s not like he meant to, you two just went your separate ways after graduation, and he wasn’t even sure if there even was an “Us” when it came to the two of you anymore. If that was the case the only person he had to blame was himself, it was no fault of yours that your friendship had hit a plateau, Carmy hadn’t responded to a text of yours in years, and the fact that you still texted him to this day caused a slight pain in his chest as he stood in the middle of his mother’s kitchen, frown still etched into his features.
“He’s outside on the phone with Baby?” Carmy questioned the ache in his chest doing nothing to alleviate his irritation. It was Richie’s turn to frown reciprocating the same confused look Camry wore.
“What - No dickhead, he’s talking to Baby, like she’s right in fucking front of him and shit.” Richie swatted the side of Carmy’s head like a child. “Your moms invites her to every holiday, Cousin, and she comes every time.” Richie knew the last bit wasn’t necessary but felt Carmy rightfully deserved it, all anyone wanted from the youngest Berzatto was a visit.
“Dudes been out there for fucking ever though, those to idiots just standing outside like a bunch of fucking jackoffs.” Richie left the kitchen not waiting for Carmy to follow him before heading to the front door. He stopped moving the curtain on one of the side windows to spot two of the people he considered family. He let out a low whistle nudging Carmy’s shoulder who had finally joined his side nodding his head to the window.
“Get a load of these fucking losers hugging on the porch like they’re in some fucking Hallmark movie or some shit.” Richie laughed pointing at you and Mikey through the window. Carmy leaned closer to get a peak at what Richie was going on about.
Carmy hated to admit it, but Richie was right, the too of you looked like the happy couple who just saved a small town’s Christmas or whatever the fuck Hallmark movies were about. Mikey had finally separated himself from you long enough for Carmy to take in your features. He’d be lying if he said the years apart made him forget what you looked like. You were still the same girl he left in Chicago all those years ago except the wand of maturity had touched you, and in his opinion he thought you looked more beautiful than you had in high school.
Carmy was never one to pay too much attention to a woman’s features, and not because he didn’t care, it's just that he didn’t think it mattered. But as he drank in your form he learned in that exact moment why a woman might want people to notice the small things. Like the haircut you were sporting that Carmy felt shaped your face well, not that he knew shit about stuff like that, but he could appreciate art when he saw it. The outfit you picked out doing wonders to compliment your tall form and accentuate your legs. Carmy could look at you all day, scratch that he wanted to look at you all day.
He was torn from his reverie as Richie narrated the scene happening in front of them, “Aw look at these fuckers lookin all in love an shit.” He joked watching as Mikey slung his arm around you and led you towards the door, what looked to be a frame held in his other hand. The two of you walked side by side, your arm wrapped around his torso, hugging him into your side, Mikey’s head leaning slightly down to whisper something in your ear a small smile gracing your face as Mikey pressed his lips onto your temple lingering there for what Carmen swore was forever.
The tightness in his chest intensified tenfold as the realization of just how close you and Mikey had become sank into him. He didn’t know how to feel, his brain not even allowing any emotions to process, saving himself from any conclusions he might come to from a split second interaction.
Carmy left, he chose his path, he knew this, and he had no regrets he would pursue his dream every time the opportunity was presented. He just wished that, maybe if he held onto you as tightly as you still held onto him, it would’ve been him greeting you on the sidewalk on Christmas Day, being the sole object of your attention holding you close to his longing body. He knew overall the decisions he made regarding you were wrong, while he ignored your daily text and calls enough times for you to just resort to monthly check ins asking him about his endeavors and congratulations as you heard about his achievements in the culinary industry, he knew deep down that Mikey answered every text and call you sent his way, made it his mission to connect with you anytime you were back in Chicago.
Carmy couldn’t admit it to himself but deep down he knew his family saw spending time with you as a way to stay connected to him. You were the closest thing any of them still had to Carmy, and even though he had essentially cut you off from his life, his family loved you too much to allow Carmy’s shortcomings to affect their relationship with you.
He was broken from the recesses of his mind as Richie threw the door open stepping over the threshold raising his hands in the air to welcome you and Mikey into the house. The glass of Sprite still clutched in his left hand, a broad smile spread across his face as you left Mikey’s hold to greet Richie eyes not having spotted Carmy who was hidden behind Richie’s small frame.
Carmy’s first up close look at you in years were your hands wrapped around Richie’s torso as he pulled you into a hug, rocking the two of you back and forth, Richie let you go quickly turning his body back into the house “A’ight fuckers you can all stop pretending you care so much about Carmy and his little rat in the chef hat bullshit. We got the real deal here now, Baby's gracing us with her journalist presence.”
Carmy’s brows furrowed at Richie’s dig only slightly offended about being compared to a fictional character named after pasta, too caught up in allowing the sound of your laugh to grace his ears for the first time in what felt like forever. Mikey had finally caught up to you standing behind you with a hand placed on your shoulder, Carmy watched as his brother’s hand glided up and down your arm before giving your bicep a slight squeeze and nodding his head in Carmy’s direction.
If Carmy was being honest it was becoming increasingly difficult to quiet his mind that was eagerly trying to piece everything together. From yours and Mikey's prolonged moment on the porch, to the kiss he placed on your temple, add in Richie’s jokes and the almost constant physical contact between you and Mikey and Carmy was sure he figured shit out.
You looked to where Mikey motioned his head finally noticing Carmy’s figure standing there while Richie ran off towards the stairs after his impromptu introduction. Looking at Carmy was like being in a Time Machine, nothing had drastically changed, he looked more exhausted than what you remembered. But overall he was the same Carmy you parted ways with all those years ago.
A small smile graced your lips as you took him in, he was still your Carmy appearance wise, and right now for you that was all that mattered. You lifted your hand in a small wave gaining his attention, your smile growing wider as your eyes locked with his.
The clearing of a throat broke you from your thoughts, Mikey’s hand giving your shoulder a squeeze as he walked you two into the house before shutting the door behind him. As he finished he stood in front of you so that Carmy was partially covered from view by each brother in your line of vision though your focus was taken up by the eldest. He gave you a reassuring smile before gently knocking his fist against your chin and presumably turning to leave you and Carmy alone.
As Mikey walked past Carmy he gave him his signature grin and a wink before patting his shoulder as left to check on Donna in the kitchen and mingle with the other guests.
Carmy’s face was still set in the same frown it had been in when he first asked Richie where Mikey ran off to. You took a deep breath to settle your nerves before taking a step to close the gap between you, your hand reached out to gently squeeze Carmy’s arm though stopping in midair as you watched him subtly flinch. Your smile faltered, your hand finding its rightful place at your side. You looked up to see the apology in Carmy’s eyes, you did your best to brush the moment off, maybe you came on too strong, maybe it wasn’t fair that you were still pushing for a friendship when Carmy had given you all the reasons to stop trying, maybe the Carmy in front of you was a different Carmy to the one you used to know. Maybe the life where it was you and Carmy had finally taken its last breath and you were just too clingy and desperate to realize.
You cleared your throat trying to alleviate the lump forming from the thoughts that were racing through your brain. The small placating smile on your face there to stop you from having a full breakdown in the Berzatto’s foyer. “Its good to see you Carmen, I hope New York is treating you well.” You lips wrapped around the generic greeting forcing yourself not to say anything you might regret.
Carmy nodded his head rapidly accepting your lackluster words, his lips parting and closing all in the same breath. The man obviously had nothing to say to you, and maybe you just had to accept that. You stayed a moment longer cursing yourself for doing so as the air between you two filled with palpable tension.
“Baby, is that you? My goodness you look fucking gorgeous.” Half of Donna’s body had popped out of the kitchen finally gaining a spare moment to greet you. Her words mumbled through the cigarette between her lips, a ladle held in her right hand while the left was occupied by tongs. Her apron covered in all sorts of sauces and whatever the hell else your brain couldn’t even begin to discern.
You laughed half in amusement and half in relief, you weren’t sure how much longer you could stand there as Carmy burned holes in your body. You waved at Donna quickly, beginning to head towards her to join her in the kitchen. It wasn’t your first choice as an escape from Carmen but you’d rather try and help Donna finish preparing Christmas dinner than be around Carmy for another minute.
Donna waved the tongs in Carmy’s direction, “Jesus fucking Christ Carmen, take the girls bag and coat. Don’t just fuckin stand there.” She huffed eyes glaring the longer Carmen stayed glued to the spot. You handed him your tote as soon as his arm shot out and began hastily shimmying out of your jacket. You gave him a soft smile before laying the jacket on his awaiting arm.
You began to leave the foyer as Donna motioned for you to follow her, mentally preparing yourself for what you were about to walk into. A sudden thought occurred causing you to gently grip Carmy’s bicep as you were walking past him, “I uh, I actually bought you a Christmas present. So um, find me later yeah?” You smiled tilting your head slightly in questioning.
Carmen Berzatto graced you with a small smile, nodding back in agreement as you sent him one final nod and turned to enter the kitchen. The first positive emotion he granted you since you walked back into his life 30 minutes ago.
next chapter ↣
a/n: this is my first fic that i’m publishing and i genuinely have no clue what the fuck any of this is, : ) but nonetheless hope you all enjoy! or don’t i’m just a stranger on the internet. constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated though. please like, comment, reblog if this behemoth tickles your fancy!
also i write for fun/hobby and i'm such an inconsistent bitch so don't get your hopes too high, but this will potentially be a series idk yet though lol.
#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x you#the bear fic#michael berzatto#richie jerimovich#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto angst#platonic!michael berzatto#all i ever knew only you ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊#[aiekoy] 1
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it's nice to have a friend
author's note: this is a little all over the place, but i saw a tiktok edit of seven by taylor swfit and then thought to myself, what if i ignore all my wips and wrote childhood friends to lovers with a hint of childhood trauma? and this was born. and if the timeline isn't perfect with reality, oh well. i'm but a human girl. also!! if you have ever experienced or currently experiencing abuse, please know that it was never your fault. you don't deserve to be treated that way.
pairing: mat barzal x reader
summary: wherever mat went, you were never too far behind or the one where you are childhood besties
warnings: cursing (as always), mentions of parental abuse and alcholism, tumultuous childhood, drinking, mentions of sex
there was a saying that floated around in your elementary, middle, and high school days, surrounding you like a warm oversized cardigan.
wherever mat went, you were never too far behind.
the saying could also be flipped, the two of you stuck to each other like glue.
mat, despite not being one for fights, had a bad habit of running his mouth whenever you were concerned. in fourth grade, he used newly learned vocabulary words to berate a girl who made fun of your beat up shoes and nearly got detention for it.
and you had a nasty habit of squaring up with anyone who looked at mat wrong, even if they towered over you.
your friendship worked well because of it.
age eight
you could remember summer days swimming in the pool with mat and liana, laughing as you and mat teamed up against his little sister until his mother scolded the two of you when she started crying.
but there was always a darkness that sat in the corners of your memories like fingerprints that had damaged an old photograph.
you didn't have to try to remember your parents' screaming and yelling at each other, just like you didn't have to try to recall the smell of alcohol on your father's breath. it didn't take any effort to remember the way your hands shook when you locked your room at night and climbed out of a second story window to go to mat's.
you could feel the splinters digging into your fingertips as you climbed the trellis up to his window. you could still feel the way your stomach dropped when you slipped and fell halfway up in the pouring rain, nearly breaking your arm in the process. you could still hear nadia come out and usher you inside moments before mat's eight year old feet came pattering down the stairs.
he didn't even give you time to explain, he just wrapped you up in a hug.
it took you that long to understand it was never raining, it was just tears.
the next week, you found yourselves at the park laying on your backs in the grass.
"what would you do if a genie gave you one wish?" mat asked out of the blue.
the summer sun kept you warm as the breeze kept sweeping in and blowing strands of hair into your face.
"get far away from here."
"would you bring me?" mat asked.
you turned your head to look at him only to find him already staring. "i wouldn't go anywhere without you." and you meant every word, spoke them with as much conviction as an eight year old could have.
mat reached out and squeezed your hand in his own.
"what would you wish for?"
he shrugged. "to be bigger."
you furrowed your brow. "why bigger?"
"so i could protect you better."
age nine
at nine, you and mat were playing cards in your room when the front door slammed. it was like you were on autopilot. of all the times that had happened, mat was never home with you. immediately, you were locking your door and shoving things in your backpack, pulling mat towards the window and climbing out as quickly as you could. the two of you ran to your bikes and biked all the way to an empty field where you collapsed in the tall grass and cried.
mat immediately brought you into his arms, hushing you and running his hand down your braids.
"what if--" he started stopped abruptly to clear his throat. "what if you stayed with me and liana and mom and dad? we could get bunk beds and a night light, if you want, and you wouldn't have to lock the door."
you just sobbed harder into his chest and shook your head.
it's not that simple, you wanted to tell him. but i wish it was.
age thirteen
you never moved in with mat, never got to get the bunk beds, but by middle school, your mom moved the two of you out of your old house. it was then that he started packing two lunches, one for you and another for himself.
things hadn't changed much since leaving your dad in that shitty house full of demons. you still spent most of your time at mat's house (your mom was working). still spent your saturdays going to his tournaments and games. you still cheered him on and let him cheat off your homework on sunday nights.
things shifted though, regardless if you wanted them to change or not. time, you found, never gave a shit about your opinion, thoughts, or desires.
because it felt like just yesterday, you were riding your bikes down the street, racing each other back home.
now, you were helping mat draft msn messages to a girl he had a crush on in your biology class. there was an uncomfortable sensation in your stomach that was comparable to the time you got food poisoning, but you couldn't place a reason for it.
you could paint the pink on his cheeks as the girl replied.
and you would've given anything to be the reason for it.
maybe it was silly, a small crush for the sheer convenience of it all. maybe it was the fact that he'd saved you so many times from the darkness that always seemed to follow you. maybe it was because he was a tether for you, pulling you back when you went too far in your head.
so when he laughed at something she said (which wasn't even really funny), you wanted to go back to the times the two of you would cloud gaze in the middle of the day just so you wouldn't have to be home.
age fifteen
you knew mat was a kind person, knew he was handsome and a good hockey player, that was never in question.
you just didn't realize other girls realized it too.
mat always walked in front of you in the hallways because he could make way through the crowds in ways you couldn't. (he grew like a weed over the summer and while you hated how you couldn't reach things when he held them above his head, you appreciated the way crowds moved out of the way for him).
you were used to him being in front, his grip light on your wrist as he tugged you behind him. you weren't used to walking behind his new girlfriend, chloe, who had the honor of walking beside him.
mat used to tell you how much it irritated him that people would take up so much space in the hallway and make it impossible to move around them.
but there you were, an awkward moving triangle of your best friend, his girlfriend, and you trailing pathetically behind.
chloe was cool. she never felt threatened by your friendship with mat, which might've hurt your feelings if you were delusional. you knew you had no chance with mat, so you'd take him in whatever form you could get him.
lately, that looked like spending time with liana in the stands at mat's tournaments. you would both do your homework before dissolving into gossip sessions while you braided her hair.
chloe even showed up for some games, smiling and cheering as he played. at one game, he scored and came up and tapped the glass in front of you, pointing at you and smiling.
they broke up two weeks later.
age sixteen
you openly cried when mat left for seattle. you were used to times when mat had hockey camps and would be gone for two weeks, a month at a time. but he would be gone indefinitely now.
and leading up to the day he was leaving, you thought it would be harder on you, considering mat hadn't shown anything but excitement. but when it came time for him to leave, he wouldn't let you go.
both of your moms had to pry you apart with promises that he would call and text as soon as he got to seattle.
and he did.
he hadn't even gotten into his new home when he was facetiming you.
you did your best to smile as he showed you around his new place, but your eyes were watering still. he was indefinitely two and a half hours away from you.
"you okay?" he asked when you stopped responding.
you gave him your best smile, but knew he wouldn't buy it. "just miss you is all."
he nodded, eyes going blank for a second before you saw water appear in them. mat wasn't as emotional as you were, and he for sure wasn't as teary eyed as he used to be when you still lived with your dad, but his eyes were watering all the same. "let's just treat it like summer camp," he said. "i'll be back before you know it, and if you need something, you can always call me."
you had no intentions of calling him with your problems, but then your dad showed up at your house screaming and beating the door and calling for your mother while she was at work. the doors were locked, he had no way in, and the police were on the way, but your hands were still shaking.
you couldn't run to his house to hug him anymore.
so you called him sobbing.
he picked up on the second ring.
he was lounging in bed, playing call of duty or something like it. "hey--" he cut himself off and paused his game, jumping out of bed. "what's wrong?"
"my dad," you sobbed.
mat was back in coquitlam in three hours, holding you tight to his chest and rocking you back and forth. you were openly weeping into his shirt, clinging to him. you weren't gonna let him go, and mat wasn't willing to give you up either.
you and your mom spent the night at the barzal's, with her taking the guest room while nadia brought a twin mattress into mat's room under the pretense that you would sleep on it.
you didn't.
everyone knew that you got into mat's queen sized bed and clung to him all night long.
just like everyone pretended that mat wouldn't have to leave in two days to go back to seattle.
just like you pretended like you wouldn't absolutely shatter on impact the second he left your sight.
age nineteen
when mat was drafted to the islanders, you stopped breathing. sure, it was dramatic, but you only moved into vancouver for school.
mat was moving across the fucking continent.
but he came back to seattle, and for a moment, the world was right again.
until he went to new york full time.
and the full weight of his absence hit you like a damn eighteen wheeler.
you'd watch him on the tv, when you used to watch him live in much smaller stands. you used to use puff paint to make t-shirts with his name on it, now they were selling his jersey in the arena he played in.
he didn't pick up the phone as much as he used to. he would respond to your texts days later until you stopped texting him altogether.
you should've seen it coming, especially when you saw him hanging out with instagram models and going out to bars. were you really expecting him to sit at home and wait for you to call him with a panic attack?
you had to get a grip.
so you did.
you threw yourself into your studies, pretending you didn't know his game schedule or stats. and when a cute boy named thomas came along and took interest, you allowed him to get to know you better.
you told him you grew up in coquitlam, that you were an only child, and your favorite school subject growing up was english.
(you never told him that your favorite color was the shade of mat's eyes, that you haven't spoken to your dad since the night your mom left him, or that every night, you fall asleep to career highlights of the best friend you haven't spoken to in months).
you learned he was a business major, something that should've been a red flag, but you were so focused on proving to yourself that you could be loved, that you overlooked it.
you went on dates, had sex, made plans for the future, met each other's families.
but he never met the barzals, despite the fact that you could drive to their house blindfolded.
no, they felt like a precious secret. the world could have number 13, they could have the calder memorial trophy winner, but you would not allow them to have the little sister whose hair you braided, the mother who brought you inside after you wrecked her trellis, the father who covered your scraped knees with bandaids and neosporin when your biological one was drunk at 2pm.
you might have lost mat to the awful curse called distance, but you would not lose his family.
you couldn't afford to lose them too.
now thomas, you lost a month after you turned twenty when you found him balls deep in your freshman roommate.
you went back to your apartment and cried, because it hurt, but mainly because you realized how alone you were. you had no one to call other than your mom or liana. but liana didn't even know about thomas, and your mom was dating a new guy now.
your thumb hovered over mat's contact for five minutes before you locked your phone and just went to bed.
age twenty-three
you were single for a whole year before you met dawson. his brown eyes and salt and pepper hair captivated you.
you were hooked, despite the seven year age gap.
he gave you the number to a good psychologist to help you work through your past and was willing to listen to you talk about it or sit in silence when your therapy session was emotionally exhausting.
he remembered your favorite flowers and brought a bouquet of them to your college graduation and kissed you in front of your mom and the barzals (minus mat, but that was a given at that point).
and on your twenty-third birthday, he proposed.
you said yes while actively trying to forget the dreams you and mat had when you were six.
you were building a fort in his bedroom with thumbtacks and blankets and sheets you'd stolen from around his house. when the project was complete, the two of you found yourselves laying in it, staring up at the blanket canopy shoddily held up by thumbtacks pushed into the wall.
"do you wanna get married?" mat had asked randomly.
"only if i get to marry you," you replied.
mat smiled a toothy grin, it was the only time you remembered him having imperfect teeth, given that he'd just lost his two front teeth. "i thought the same thing!"
and it was the most honest you had ever been. though, that wasn't a strange concept, most people were the most honest when they were either children or drunk. and considering you stayed far away from alcohol (guided by the anxiety in your stomach and the advice of your therapist), your childhood memories held the most truth.
despite not having seen him in years, you still thought of him often. you tried to see if you could remember the sound of his laugh without looking up an interview. you tried to recall the way his hair felt through your fingers.
but you couldn't.
it was crazy how much he meant to you as a child, how you still remembered the order in which he ate his breakfast, but you hadn't spoken to him in years.
you found yourself sobbing at the kitchen table one night as you poured over who to invite to the wedding. liana was a bridesmaid, mike and nadia had to be invited.
but what about mat?
you felt sick to your stomach at not inviting him. when you were in high school, when you'd gotten a grip on reality, you believed he'd walk you down the aisle in lieu of your piece of shit father.
but you hadn't spoken to him in so long.
though you couldn't imagine which would suck worse, not inviting him, or mat rejecting the invitation.
that was how dawson found you, sobbing over photos from your childhood that you wouldn't let him see. and when you tried to talk to him about it, he suggested talking to your therapist.
he broke off the engagement two weeks later. he said he didn't feel "the spark" anymore.
age twenty-four
you'd been out of college for two years now and all you had to show for it was debt and a stupid piece of paper. you were working in a coffee shop ten minutes from your mom's house and wishing you could've gotten out of coquitlam like mat did.
maybe this was your cursed existence, going to the grocery store wondering if you were going to ever run into your father again.
you'd just gotten off your shift at the coffee shop when you stopped by your local grocery store to pick some things up for dinner. it was supposed to be a normal day, but you turned the corner out of an aisle and damn near ran into someone.
"sorry, my bad--"
you looked up and suddenly the earth stopped in its rotation. you hadn't seen in him years but you'd know him blind.
his hands were around your elbows, keeping you upright. his touch almost burned you. it was an uncomfortable feeling, like putting on jeans you loved and realizing they don't fit anymore.
you pulled away, ducked your head, and started walking the opposite direction without another word.
but you should've known he would follow you, like a moth to a flame. or maybe that wasn't the right analogy, you were used to being the bug while mat was the light of your life.
but he followed you like there was a string attached to your wrists and he wasn't used to you pulling in an opposite direction.
he managed to catch up to you in the self care aisle right in front of the menstrual products. any other man you'd known would've shied away from standing in front of the tampons and pads as you deliberated which products to get, but mat's eyes wouldn't even leave your face.
you should've known he was going to come back eventually. you'd avoided seeing him in the offseason pretty well considering you were off doing internships and working out of town in the summer.
but now you were stuck in a dead end job with no passion for anything anymore, feeling more alone than you had ever felt before.
and because nature or god or the universe hated you, naturally, that was when mat showed back up.
when you had nothing to show for the years you didn't speak.
you could see the wheels turning in mat's head as he tried to think of something to say. it was an interesting turn of events that simultaneously sent an ache straight through your heart. when you were kids, he never hesitated to say exactly what was on his mind. now, he was deliberating.
"you wanna come over for dinner?" he asked. "mom's making tomato soup and grilled cheese."
you wished you could've denied him, it would've been smarter in the long run. mathew michael paul barzal could get you to do anything, and you hated that even after all those years, he still could.
you found yourself sitting at his old kitchen table surrounded by his family, dipping your grilled cheese into the soup like you were six years old again.
except the difference now was you were laughing with liana, sitting next to liana, instead of mat.
you'd occasionally meet his eyes from across the table, but it wasn't the same.
when you were kids, you sat next to each other at every opportunity. when you were kids, mat pretended to steal food off your plate. when you were kids, you knew everything about each other.
but you were adults now. and he was effectively a stranger you knew too much about.
after dinner, everyone scattered. you tried to leave, but mat caught up with you.
"what're you doing tomorrow?" he asked.
"working," you replied.
he nodded and looked around. "can i see you?"
you wanted so badly to say no, that you were busy, but as much as you wanted to pretend that he didn't, mat knew you better than anyone else, even if he had been absent for five years.
you ended up going for a walk in the park the next day, deciding that getting dinner wasn't worth the headache of mat getting recognized.
his hands were shoved in his pockets with a baseball cap pulled down low over his face. if you were brave enough to look over, you could still see his eyes taking glances at you.
"how's your mom?" mat asked, immediately jumping into topics you'd planned on ignoring.
you shrugged. "fine."
he nodded and scuffed his feet along the sidewalk. "how have you been?"
"fine." you sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. you didn't mean to be cold, you meant it even less when you looked over and saw mat desperate for connection with you again.
in the end, you could never really deny him anything he wanted.
"life sucks right now," you admitted. "feel like i've wasted my life away here."
mat nodded along. "didn't you say your genie wish would be to leave?"
"i think my words were to 'get far away from here.'"
"you know," he started. "new york is far from here."
you couldn't help yourself. you looked up at him and saw the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "are you being serious?"
he nodded. "as a heart attack."
could this be the moment? the moment your life suddenly comes back into color? things haven't felt right since mat left for new york, and maybe moving, being with him all the time, would fix whatever existential crisis you were currently having.
the two of you were packing up your childhood room a month later .
you were on a flight to new york city two days after that.
mat was bouncing on his toes when he picked you up from the airport, having come home a few days early to get his apartment set up.
"you have to meet tito," he said as soon as the both of you got in his car. "you'll get along just fine. my childhood best friend meeting my other best friend? things couldn't be more perfect!"
you smiled though you felt like dying inside. no wonder you two lost touch, you were too ashamed to message him and he was too busy befriending his entire hockey team.
the apartment itself was large. larger than you could've ever afforded, even in coquitlam. mat brought your bags to your room and gently placed them on the floor.
"do you need any help unpacking?" he asked.
maybe a bitter part of you wanted to say no, but you'd waited for this moment for years. you nodded and mat's face lit up like a christmas tree.
while he was putting your clothes away in the dresser, he told you about his team, about his career, and all that you missed. he tried to ask about your life, but you kept up the story that nothing much had happened to you. and for the most part, you weren't lying.
you hadn't spoken to your dad, you hadn't dated anyone seriously in the last year (you conveniently left out the failed engagement. you just got into town, and couldn't afford a plane ticket to fly back to coquitlam just to bail mat out of jail).
but mat was more than content to listen to your work stories from when you were working at the coffee shop. he asked questions along the way, and momentarily, it felt like everything was headed back to normal.
you shooed him out of the room so you could shower. it was kinda incredible how a nice apartment meant that his shower was better than any other one you'd ever had growing up. when you stepped out into the nicely updated bathroom and changed into some gym shorts and a t-shirt, you felt the full weight of your insecurities hit you all at once.
your mat lived down the road from you. he had a twin bed until he was fifteen when his mom could no longer ignore the way his ankles hung off the end. he had posters of sidney crosby hanging up on the walls of his bedroom.
but this mat had expensive bathrooms and egyptian cotton sheets. you didn't get to see it yet, but you were willing to bet he had state of the art kitchen appliances that he didn't fully understand how to use outside of making eggs.
you were fully ready to walk into the living room, where you heard mat clicking through what must've been streaming services (because he could afford all of them), and tell him moving here was a mistake. too much had changed, he didn't know you anymore.
but you walked out and saw blankets and sheets strung up, pinned to the walls with pillows on the floor.
almost on cue, mat's head popped out from the makeshift fort, a bright smile on his face. "i don't have bunk beds, but i thought this would be a nice alternative."
you could've cried. you almost did.
but you sat down on a pillow and watched a movie with him instead.
two months later
mat had introduced you to anthony the second week you lived in new york. anders and matt you met the next week. the rest of the team you met over the course of the two months you'd lived with mat so far. they were all nice, and you could see why mat was so enthusiastic about his job, his passion for the sport aside.
you met his "not-girlfriend" as tito called her the day before. ashley was nice enough, but clearly not in the same tax bracket as you, who had recently gotten a job working at an indie bookstore while you worked on grad school applications.
you pretended to be too busy to notice the ache in your chest when he held her hand, remembering chloe and the nasty sensation internally of insecurity bubble up. you weren't dumb enough to not know you were jealous, insecurity was a closer friend than mat was, you'd known her longer.
and if comparison was a sport, you'd be making more money than he was at this rate.
because if it wasn't the way ashley laughed, it was her smile, or her stomach, or the gap between her thighs.
or the fact that mat looked at her with something more than a savior complex.
you stupidly agreed to go out to a bar with him, ashley, and a few islanders that night. it was dumb, you knew that going in, but you were finally with mat again, why wouldn't you spend every free moment with him?
it turned out to be a mistake.
you were left sipping a diet coke by your lonesome while he was dancing with ashley. you knew you shouldn't have done it, it was a bad idea, but you found yourself at the bar asking for a shot of literally anything the bartender would give you.
but anthony slid into the seat next to you a beat later and fixed you with a knowing look. "where's your diet coke?" he asked.
your mouth dried up when the shot was placed in front of you. your heart was pounding and for a moment, it felt like you could've thrown up.
when you didn't respond, anthony nodded and stood up. "wanna go take a breather?" and he sounded so genuine that your eyes immediately welled up with tears as you nodded.
the two of you walked outside and stood in the cool air, letting the wind hit your wet cheeks.
you looked out onto the street while anthony texted on his phone. "do you want to go home?" he asked as soon as he slipped his cellphone back into his pocket.
you shrugged. "i don't know what i want."
that was a lie. you wanted to go back to a time where mat was just your best friend, before he was number 13 for the islanders, before he won the calder memorial trophy. you wanted your best friend, the one who raced you down the neighborhood streets on bikes, who drove three hours to see you when you had a panic attack.
you wanted a childhood that wasn't tainted with the darkness of your father's mistakes. you wanted to be able to go into a room and not immediately check if you could lock the door. you wanted to be able to fall asleep in a dark room without being deathly afraid.
mat was outside a second later, huffing and puffing like he'd just run a mile. his gaze was fixed on you almost immediately, while he ignored the way ashley hung off of him. "what's wrong?" he asked. he even went as far as to pry ashley off of his body so he could frame your face in his large hands.
in the corner of you eye, you saw anthony usher ashley back inside while you and mat had a staring contest. "what happened?"
you shook your head and tried to speak, but more tears spilled out. mat nodded and pursed his lips before grabbing your hand and walking you home.
he didn't say anything else until the front door shut behind you. you had no intentions of staying in the common area, you just wanted to curl up in bed and cry yourself to sleep out of shame and pity.
"what were you doing at the bar?" mat asked before you could go anywhere. "you still had diet coke in your glass."
your throat seized up at feeling caught, but you stood your ground.
"i didn't think you drank," he continued. "mainly because--"
"because my dad's an abusive alcholic? yeah, you don't need to tell me that, mat, i already know."
"so if you know that, why did tito see you order a shot from the bartender?"
you threw your hands up in the air and shrugged. "i don't know, mathew. why do you invite me to bars when you know i don't drink?" he didn't have an answer. "you don't get to shame me for considering having a drink when a bar is the only place i get to hang out with you during the season!"
"that's not--" but he cut himself off. "what're you talking about?"
"i hardly see you! why did i move across the continent if i have to go to a scary place just to spend time with you?"
"i--"
"i mean it's not fair, you left and now i have to pay the consequences of it--"
"i'm sorry, what?"
"you left--"
"i heard you. did you forget the part where you stopped contacting me?" you rolled your eyes to keep yourself from crying even more. "uh uh, don't do that. don't blame me without taking accountability for this friendship ending."
you blinked.
but mat wasn't done. "because i always called you back when i missed your calls. you were the one who stopped texting me."
"you were too busy!"
"i'm in the nhl! did you expect me to just be laying around my apartment all day? i have practices and meetings and games at weird times, but i always made sure to get back to you."
you said nothing, the tears welling up behind your eyes, but you kept them in. the verbal lashing from mat was enough, you didn't need to further embarrass yourself by crying too.
he kept going, yelling and waving his hands around, occasionally pacing and dragging his fingers through his unruly hair.
but you zoned out.
you could hear glass bottles rattling as your father came up the stairs. you sat on your bed, hoping to god he'd just keep walking. mat was out of town for a tournament, and you were grounded.
your dad stopped at the top of the stairs and looked at you. your heart was racing in your chest and you wanted nothing more than to text mat, but your mom had your phone. "what're you lookin' at?" he slurred.
it was only 1pm.
and your mom was still at work.
but he apparently didn't feel like bothering you because he turned into his bedroom and shut the door.
you could feel the air release from your lungs before you went back to reading your book.
but the peace never lasted long. thirty minutes later you could hear him yelling and screaming obscenities before he opened his door. you launched yourself out of bed and slammed your own door shut, quickly locking it with an efficiency you'd learned at a young age. the door handle rattled and you flinched backwards, nearly tripping over clothes on the floor.
but you weren't a stranger to this situation.
you opened the window and climbed out.
but he was ready for you this time because he was at the front door screaming at you as you rode away on your bike.
you didn't stop pedaling until you got to the park where you collapsed on the grass and cried.
something in your face must've changed, because mat stopped yelling and looked at you, really looked at you.
"hey," he said, voice much quieter than before. "where'd you go?"
you shook your head, tears falling down your face uncontrollably.
"don't do that," he said. "don't shut me out." mat took a step closer to you, but you immediately stepped backwards. he breathed your name, but something in his eyes shifted, like he could read your mind. "i'm not him," he whispered. "i'm not your dad, i'm not going to hurt you. you know me, you know i wouldn't do that."
"you left," was all you could say.
mat nodded. "i did, but i didn't leave you, okay? i would never leave you." he closed the distance between you and held your face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away the constant flow of water from the corners of your eyes.
"but--"
he shook his head. "no, you mean too much to me to leave you, okay? you're my best friend. if you had called me and needed me? i would've been there as soon as i could."
"you would've been too busy--"
he pulled back, a bit bewildered. "when have i ever been too busy for you?"
you held your tongue, knowing that it wasn't him per se.
"what is it?" he asked, his eyes searching your own. "what aren't you telling me?"
so you told him about how you hadn't talked to your dad, and even though you were thousands of miles away, you were still scared he'd find you and ruin your life even more. you told him about thomas, about how you thought he could be the thing that fixed you, but he cheated on you.
you told him about dawson, who was older and more mature. you told mat how dawson got you going to therapy which you thought was a good sign, until you realized he never actually wanted to talk about your bad days. he proposed, you said yes, and then he broke off the engagement when he saw you sobbing over invitations.
your eyes were too blurry to see the way mat's jaw clenched, but you could feel him pull his hands away.before you could even stop yourself, you stretched out for him, but he was just out of reach.
"mat, what," you weeped. "what's wrong?"
"you were engaged?" he mumbled. "you were engaged and didn't tell me?" you expected him to look mad, but the only thing reflected in those deep brown eyes was hurt.
"that's why he broke up with me, i was crying over childhood photos while trying to figure out if i should invite you even when we hadn't talked in years." you shrugged pathetically and gave mat a watery smile. "guess he thought it was too immature of me."
mat's hands were clenching and unclenching by his side, like he couldn't decide what he wanted to do with them.
"please don't hate me," you whispered. "i don't think i could handle it if you hated me." but he didn't say anything, mat just resulted to pacing the living room. "i think my dad fucked me up beyond repair." your eyes never left his profile. if he wouldn't look at you, that was fine, you'd continue to stare at him. "i think i'm too codependent and messed up for anyone to love me." mat's head snapped up at that comment.
"i mean," you continued. "i wasn't enough for my dad to get sober, i wasn't enough to not get cheated on, i wasn't enough for someone to marry me. maybe it's not them. maybe i'm the issue."
"no," he said immediately, shaking his head in the process, crossing the room until he could pull you into his chest. "no. that's not true."
"yes it is! my dad doesn't love anything more than alcohol--"
mat cut you off. "anyone would've been proud to have you as a daughter."
"thomas wanted my freshman roommate--"
"thomas was an idiot."
"dawson couldn't handle me when i wasn't happy--"
"fuck him too. he was thirty dating a college student."
"and you left and i--"
mat pulled you back far enough to look you in the face. "and if i could do it all over again, i'd take you with me." he pressed his forehead against yours. "here's what we're gonna do, we're gonna make a fort and watch the mighty ducks. and tomorrow, we're gonna find you the best therapist money can buy and set up an appointment because i don't like you talking about yourself this way." your stomach twisted at the idea of therapy, hesitant because of dawson-- "and i wanna hear as much as you're willing to tell me, okay?"
you nodded.
"now, i need to see you smile so i know we'll be alright." you gave him a watery smile right before he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "there she is."
you held onto each other for another minute before reluctantly letting go to gather blankets and pillows.
four months later
you hadn't been able to make it to many of mat's games until tonight when they played the devils at home. you sat with sydney and grace and their kids.
earlier that night, you'd gone to your therapy session and cried your eyes out. after years of feeling like you weren't a human being worthy of love, you just started seeing value in just existing.
and mat was as supportive as ever. he gave you space after therapy sessions to process until you were ready to talk to him, if you wanted to. the two of you made plans to hang out at cafes and central park rather than at bars every weekend.
"look at your man go," grace nudged you with her elbow. "he's feeling good tonight."
"i'm sure it has everything to do with you being here," sydney commented. "i've never seen that man more in love than he is right now."
you could feel the heat crawl up your neck as you shook your head. "he's my best friend."
"a best friend who loves you so much, he's willing to keep things platonic for your sake."
almost immediately, an insecure thought popped in your head, but you stopped it in its tracks, imagining the thought on a conveyor belt, moving down the belt until it was out of sight completely.
your shoulders relaxed.
you deserved to be loved, and it if was mat, great.
if not, you'd still have him as your best friend.
a buzzer sounded through the arena and a quick glance at the ice told you all you needed to know. mat was skating into a cluster of his teammates, smiling wide before pointing up at where he knew you were sitting.
grace and sydney jostled you around a little while fans, male and female alike, screamed at the idea of the mat barzal pointing at them.
when the game ended (5-4 with the islanders win), you followed sydney and grace down to the locker rooms. you met up with the other wags and smiled when they greeted you. some chatted and passed time while others rocked babies in their arms. you however were anxiously looking through your photos on your phone, specifically the album labeled mat that you'd had since you'd first gotten an iphone. you didn't glance up until you hear the sound of doors opening.
mat was the seventh person out, not that you were counting. he wore a bright smile when he saw you standing there and immediately crossed the distance between the two of you to wrap you in a huge hug.
"how was therapy?" he asked.
you rolled your eyes but couldn't help but smile. "why do we always talk about me?"
"because i care." he lightly nudged your shoulder. "so how did it go?"
"it was good, actually," you remarked. "figured out and accepted that i deserve love."
if it was even possible, mat's smile got wider. "yeah you do."
"and maybe there are people waiting around for me to figure it out..." you trailed off before shyly meeting his gaze. and before you could stop yourself, before you ran out of courage, you stood on your tiptoes (like you've been doing since he hit his growth spurt in seventh grade) and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips.
you lingered for a moment before pulling away and loooking up at your bewildered best friend whose mouth was wide open.
"what?" you asked. "did i read that wrong? sydney and grace said--"
"that's all i get?" he asked. "i've waited for this since i was six years old and i don't even get the real thing?"
you furrowed your brow. "what're you talking about? six years old?"
but mat was leaning in and capturing your lips with his own. "six year old mat had the biggest crush on six year old you," he said.
"and what about twenty-four year old mat?"
he kissed you again. "head over heels for you."
age twenty-six
after a less than stellar playoff run, you and mat headed back to canada for a portion of the off season, mainly to visit family.
but it was also nice to get out of new york, even if it was just for a short period.
in hindsight, you should've known something was going to happen. your mother, nadia, and liana took you to get your nails done and to grab lunch while you were out shopping. but you were so caught up in how nice it was to be back home (words you never thought you'd ever say), you paid no attention to the lack of mat time.
so when you walked into the backyard of his parents' house and saw a giant projector screen with blankets and pillows strewn about to make yet another fort, you almost cried.
mat's head popped out from the middle with a smile on his face until he saw the tears in your eyes. "why're you crying baby? this is supposed to be happy!"
"i love you" was all you could blubber out.
mat laughed to himself, taking your hands in his own. "i love you too baby." he knelt down and the tears kept coming down your face. "ever since i was a kid, i thought i'd be the one walking you down the aisle to the man you'd marry because i never thought you'd be crazy enough to fall in love with me."
you scoffed. "i'm definitely the one batting out of my league here, mathew."
"don't talk about the love of my life that way," he said before continuing on. "we've gone through a lot together, and i couldn't imagine getting through life without you by my side." mat took a deep breath. "so tell me, do you wanna get married?" mat asked.
you nodded through your weeping. "only if i get to marry you," you smiled.
#mat barzal#mat barzal x reader#mat barzal imagine#mathew barzal#mathew barzal imagine#nhl imagine#nhl imagines#nhl blurb
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Now It's Always Summertime
History Professor!Reader x Student!Natasha Romanoff x Student!Wanda Maximoff
Summary: You're just trying to get your thoughts together for the upcoming semester, but there are a few distractions.
Word Count: 850
Warnings: Mentions of getting high, student professor relationship, age gap everyone is over 18.
A/N: I watched a Tik Tok that had the right vibes and this came to mind so here you go. A little treat.
You poured the black liquid from your stove top coffee maker into your glass mug. Your favorite mug with a world map on it. The steam bellowed from both the maker and your now full mug. The overhead lights of the office were off leaving the strings of fairy lights that adorned the bookshelves behind you and the warm glow of your desk lamp as the only sources of light. A Golden pothos falling over the sides of the shelves like waterfalls.
The leather bound notebook sat on your desk with coffee ring stains from setting your mug atop of the blank page. You always thought it gave the page character when one found its way to a page. You transferred your thoughts from the newest edition of the history text book you received for this upcoming semester.
Going over your previous semesters lesson plan and improving on it with the new text book in mind. You taught a few different classes and with the short summer semester coming to an end only to pick back up. Before you'd have time to do anything it would be Autumn with a chill in the air worthy of the hot cup you sipped on.
A knock against the open doorframe brought you from your thoughts. Looking up over your glasses, hair slipping past your ear as your head moved. Your two favorite students stood in your doorway, Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff. Neither were history majors, but you seem to have captured their attention as they've now taken two of your classes. Your Western Civ I class along with your Mythology class. The two were already in your schedule for the Fall semester for Western Civ II and Wanda somehow snuck her way into your Norse mythology class.
“What can I do for you girls?” You asked setting your pen down and picking up your mug, refilling it once more before taking a sip. The two girls stepped in and closed the door behind them. Natasha coming around to beside you and looking at the notes you took.
“Is this for next semester?” The redheaded Russian asked as her finger ran over the words, a small smudge coming at the bottom where the fresh ink resided. You took her hand in your own after setting the mug down. Much like a mother would you licked one of your own fingers and used it to wipe the mark away on her finger.
“It is and I'd appreciate if my notes could stay intact. My thoughts are jumbled enough without you smudging them Tasha.” You looked up at the red head with a smirk plastered on your face and hers adorned a blush as Wanda came to your other side arms wrapping around your shoulders.
“We wanted to know if we could help you with anything?” You felt her breath on the shell of your ear. Your attention moving from the Russian to the Sokovian.
“I'm sure you two could be studying for your finals instead of coming to ask if I need help.” You raised an eyebrow to the brunette, the smirk still on your face as her forehead found your cheek.
“Need some stress relief.” She murmured against you making a chuckle bubble up from your chest. Wanda let out a whine in protest of your chuckle.
“Well she needs a stress relief. I'm getting high later.” Your head spun back to the redhead.
“Without me? Rude.” Natasha started laughing along with you.
“Well I can bring it if you say we can come over tonight and then we can all have a good time.” Natasha wiggled her eyebrows and tugged on your hand that was still in hers. Another whine falling past Wanda's lips is what made you give in.
“Okay. Okay you two can come over. We'll get high and have some stress relief from finals for everyone's sake.” Both girls became excited at the thought of getting to come over.
You lived a ways away from campus so you never worried about anyone seeing the girls come over since the three of you started up this throuple of yours at the beginning of the summer semester.
The classes were smaller and the two girls had already caught your eye. Since neither was a history major you figured once they got their history credits you'd never see them again. The campus was huge and the history building was nowhere near where these two spent the rest of their day. Yet when you saw their names once more you knew you had to say something. So as the old saying goes; one thing led to another and here we are.
You wrapped and arm around Wanda, pulling her into your lap where her face now buried its away into the crook of your neck. Natasha just leaned against you. More than content to have you against her stomach. You never thought this is where you'd be when you started teaching here, but you couldn't be more happy, more full, more loved than you are with these two in your life.
#ley writes#ley speaks#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x reader#wanda x you#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha x reader#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff x female#black widow#student!wanda#student!natasha#professor!reader#professor!au
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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
© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.
#park jimin fanfic#park jimin fanfiction#park jimin#bts#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#jimin x y/n#jimin x reader#jimin x you#bts x y/n#bts x you#bts x reader#bts smut#jimin smut#bts angst#jimin angst#bts fluff#jimin fluff#jimin fanfic#bts x fem!reader#jeon jungkook#jung hoseok#kim namjoon#kim taehyung#kim seokjin#min yoongi#older reader
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Sexiest Podcast Character — Unscripted Bracket — Round 5
Propaganda
Glenn Close (Dungeons & Daddies):
#Propaganda for Glenn Close: one of the other PCs mentions multiple times how hot he is #Actually several characters point it out but especially Henry #Also the only person in a podcast that has to put a disclaimer about not being a BDSM podcast to have had sex during the course of the show
Young hot rocker dilf
Loyal to his dead wife <3
Does in fact smoke weed
BARD!! HES A BARD. HE WAS LEAD GUITAR IN HIS BAND (that he was kicked out of)
His band was a Christmas cover band btw.
Literally the fandom had hot Glenn summer which consisted of drawing him being incredibly hot and sexy
Anti government (ofc)
Kind of cringefail (Disney adult) (was on dilfs of disneyland)
Young and sexy not your style? Then how about HIM AFTER YEARS LOCKED IN A TIME PRISON WITH A DAMN HANNIBAL MASK ??
Lost an eye and wears a fucking eyepatch
One incredibly buff arm
Has a pet rat named after his son <3
Immeasurable amounts of trauma in this man- becomes progressively more unhinged
OH OLD HUMAN BARD ISNT CUTTING IT? FINE
HE BECOMES A FUCKING DEMON
A COOL HOT ONE-EYED DEMON WHO WANTS TO KILL HIS DAD (also sexy)
HE CANONICALLY ENDS CHRISTIAN HELL VIA CHRISTMAS
IS ALSO WAY OVERLEVELED
Becomes a demon hunter for the rest of his existence
Also nonwhite !!! We are done with cringefail whiteboys !!!!!!!!!
I can’t put into words ok just know he is the best plz love him.
Okay but Glenn made a minivan cum by talking to her so
HE HAS A BOOK THAT HE MARKS X’S AND CHECKS FOR EVERY DAY TO SEE IF THAT DAY WAS A SUCCESS OR NOT. TO SEE IF HE DID GOOD THAT DAY. ITS ALMOST ENTIRELY X’S. HE WAS CUCKED OUT OF A SON. AND A DEAD WIFE. HE DIDN’T EVEN GET TO KILL HIS DAD IN REVENGE. There’s absolutely nothing going for him except his sex appeal in his life. Nobody he loved remembers him. He lost his eye. All he has is a pet rat and friends who admit they don’t really like him that much. He was kicked out of his own band. The band was named after him. He was kicked out of the Glenn Close trio. All he could do was deez nuts the big bad and be sexy. If nothing else, then pity him. Look in his eyes. Look at his heart and soul. He did not do the BDSM episode for this I’ll tell you what. Do this for my his sake. Do it for Nick Jr, who needs the prize money to pay for his rat snacks. Do it for his son. For Morgan. Ganbatte.
Glenn is the goofiest sexiest character there is and I will die on this hill! I will ride into battle for him! what Dndads created is truly unique and Glenn is a key part of that and for that he deserves to win. I said it before and I'll say it again - GLENN SWEEEEEP
Can we talk about how he says ‘baby’ casually? Like he just calls people that?? That’s HOT. THAT IS HOT!! He’s also bilingual and knows Japanese!!!! He’s a big dumb idiot with a lot of charisma!!!!!! HE WORKED AT A BDSM PLACE FOR TWO SEPARATE ONE SHOTS. HES SO SAD BUT PLAYS IT OFF LIKE HE’S CHILL ALL THE TIME!! HE DOESN’T THINK OF HIMSELF AS SINGLE BECAUSE HE DIDN’T DIVORCE HIS DEAD WIFE!!! He’s like.. the perfect guy. We need this win.
I’d also like to add the fact I made this. Which is the first 11 episodes edited to (almost) only have Glenn in them <3 which is a level of insanity I hope to reiterate. These took hours to make. I wouldn’t do that for anyone else.
Mod Note: While I will still take "bad dads are sexy" propaganda and "bad dads aren't sexy" anti-propaganda, I kindly request no more discussion on whether or not he was a bad father. This is a sexypoll, not a parentingpoll. If you see a post you strongly disagree with, you can just not reblog it.
Mod Note 2: This tournament is about fictional podcast characters. Please do not vote for the real actress Glenn Close.
Amber Gris (The Adventure Zone: Ethersea):
Middle aged woman who punches sharks to death. My hero
If you love me you'll vote for amber gris I swear to everything holy on earth amen
Amber is butch, instant win
Amber Gris has a negative charisma modifier and she pissed her pants on purpose in order to trick a guard and knock him out. She tied up a dude. She once killed an evil magic shark (they're out for murder. not like real sharks) by punching it and then picked it up and smashed it into another shark, also killing it. She talks in a southern accent. She calls people guppy because it indicates a lack of respect. She has a big pair of magical green arms that come from her stomach. She got a fancy jacket and immediately ripped its sleeves off. She has a gay thing going on with one of the political leaders in the city. She gets in fights with people and doesnt do vulnerability and tries to lay low and not get in any social trouble she doesn't have to. She jumped through a portal into a new world because she could. She's now the god of said world, alone with only afformentioned political leader, who was previously possessed and she had to fight. She spends her time in a bar called the Cloaca. She calls people she doesn't like claspers, because it means shark penis. She and her friend, an old man named Uncle Joshy, sneak attack each other and yell VIBE CHECK! She tries to talk fancy to impress people and she's really bad at it (verily).
She’s everything and more. She’s irreverent. She punches sharks for a living. She becomes God. What more do you need in a butch.
amber gris propaganda: she is straightup the physical embodiment of "women want me, fish fear me." also she's an appalachian post apocalyptic sea captain. that's just objectively cool.
AMBER GRIS IS PUNCHES SHARKS AND IS (one of) THE MOST BADASS BLACK WOMEN PCS IN DND SHOWS IVE EVER SEEN. SHES INCREDIBLE AND A WIN FOR DYKES EVERYWHERE
amber's creator said she was based off of the type of working-class woman you commonly see in appalachia where "this is the sort of woman that you see walking past CVS, and you know that a truck could hit her and it would just split around her as she continued to go pick up whatever she had to do that day." and that's pretty hot
guys Amber becomes lesbian god of the new world with her childhood “”friend””
#amber gris is LITERALLY a middle-aged butch #she would win this entire tournament in a just world
Last time Amber got horny was when she killed that shark
"it was a savage bummer though, don't-- trust me, there's nothing that great about a history. You know? I got one. What did I do, killed a bunch of sharks? Last time I got horny, god and christ I can't even tell you-- well, it was when I killed that shark. But! Hey. We're all just kinda figuring it out."
Moonshine Cybin (Not Another D&D Podcast: Bahumia):
She's a hot elf with mushrooms growing on her. She has 1 level of barbarian. She's bisexual. She shapeshifted into a dragon and ate a god.
how tf does the post not mention Moonshine’s giant boobs her greatest asset
Moonshine has canonically gone down on a woman for a solid hour without asking for anything in return. Moonshine edged a dryad just by kissing them. Moonshine faced down someone being controlled to kill everyone in his path and told him if he still wanted to hurt her, she would take his blows as a friend. Moonshine makes jambalaya for her family and friends. Moonshine mispronounced someone’s name for a month and that woman still wanted to hook up with Moonshine. These are just a few of the reasons why Moonshine is sexy.
shes illiterate
canonically huffs dirty water from a bong
has big tatas
wears a belly chain with a demon trapped in it
almost became the queen of hell
ate a god
turned into a pregnant moose & gave birth
The woman she went down on for an hour asking nothing in return is still hung up on her, 200 years later. Moonshine is unmatched
To be clear the woman whose name Moonshine mispronounced for a month and then hooked up with is the same woman she went down on for an hour, and the same woman who is still flustered over her 200 years later. The rizz is unparalleled. She’s also incredibly kind and accepting of others, and goes out of her way to bolster her friends. The party always requests one big bed.
moonshine cybin is a druid who learned counterspell through sheer force of will. moonshine cybin turned one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse into a dolphin, flew him 60 feet up into the air, dropped him on the ground, and then spit spores into his face to kill him. moonshine cybin turned into a dragon and bit the head off of a double god. moonshine cybin was willing to confine herself to an eternal hell to save the world. moonshine cybin is a dragon rider. you know what you must do.
Amber and Moonshine Together
Look at them. They should not have to fight when they could be gay instead. Imagine the power they would have combined... Every lesbian in a hundred mile radius of the post would swoon. It may be an odd alliance, but from an Ethersea fan to Bahumia fans, i believe this will strengthen both our odds. I have always been insane about Amber Gris but through this poll I have also learned about Moonshine and come to love her too. Take my hand... We can do this together...
OKAY HEAR ME OUT MOONSHINE AND AMBER WOULD GET ALONG SO WELL
appalachian sapphic solidarity!
Art of Amber and Moonshine from @pirateknight.
#Round 5#Glenn Close#Glenn Close DnDads#Moonshine Cybin#Amber Gris#Not Another D&D Podcast#Bahumia#The Adventure Zone#TAZ Ethersea#Dungeons & Daddies#Dungeons and Daddies
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First Meeting
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader
Scenario: Being dragged out for the night with friends Simon find himself desperately trying to be alone when a girl with a broken shoe stumble across him.
Note: Set in 2014
Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), briefs mentions of abuse, mentions of smoking, mentions of alcohol, suggestive conversation, mentions of age gap, derogatory comments.
Note: I made this an OC rather than a Reader because she has her own backstory and family and dreams that may not align with the whole Reader aspect of writing. If you guys do want something like that let me know and I'll see if I can work something out.
30-08-2020 Edit: I’ve updated this fanfic to be a reader rather than OC.
Returning from deployment never really changed for Simon. It wasn’t something he ever enjoyed. There was something about the regiment of the forces that grounded him, something about the strict timelines and regulations. None of that mattered back home. It wasn’t like he could speak to his "friends" about the trauma of being away in war-torn countries. It wasn’t like they even asked; they knew better.
Occasionally on nights out Simon would get asked the rude question of his death tally. He’d simply brush off the question. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if he had a reasonable answer to it anymore. No, instead he would pretend like he didn’t hear as other friends chastised for even asking that sick question. Why was it sick? Did they not think of him as a killer? Maybe that tainted their idyllic persona of the perfect solider. Simon knew that war was disgusting and bloody and each time he took another life a little bit of his own chipped away too.
Stand outside he brought a cigarette to his lips, inhaling slowly and just enjoying the cold winter air. “Bollocks…” A voice slipped from beside him, glancing over his shoulder to see the slight frame of a woman bent down trying to repair the band of her high-heel. As always, he stayed quiet, used to just observing and not interrupting the flow. “Need some help, sweetheart~” A drunk came stumbling in her direction.
In an instant she shot to her feet, stumbling in her broken heel as you turned to face the offending man. “Oh-” “Gonna catch y’death out here, sweetheart. Specially in that little dress…” He commented and Simon gave himself a moment to take in your outfit, it was particularly short from a night-out in January, not that any of the other birds were dressed any different. “Why don’t we get a taxi back to my flat.” He offered and Simon saw the way your shoulders seemed to tense at the suggestion. “Oi…” His voice began before his brain registered that this was a poor idea. “Fuck off and leave her alone.”
“The fuck you think you are?” Came a drunken drawl back in his direction. “Think I’m gonna be your problem if you don’t leave her alone.” He rose then, towering over the two of them you, double both your weight, double both your size. “Pshh… fuckin’ have the slag…” Drunkenly he turned and stumbled back into the club. “Thanks…” Your voice was small as you tilted your had up to make eye-contact. “S’nothing…” Then turning he moved back to where he was sitting.
“Mind if I join you?” Your voice was quiet, flasing a packet of cigarettes in his direction. “Not gonna stop you.” Simon answered with a short shrug. “Fuckin’ shoe…” You grumbled under your breath before joining him delicately, sitting close enough that it looked friendly but far enough away to give him plenty of space. It a light voice your informed him your name. It was pretty. It suited you. The way your voice cut through the cold air, warm personality shining even on this night.
Simon didn’t reply, simply continued to smoke his cigarette in the quiet whilst you lit up your own beside him. “Y’even old enough to be in there?” Suddenly you looked at him before snickering. “Turned 21 months ago.” You announced proudly. “Even got my ID to prove it.” Fuck, you was young. 9 years younger than him, in fact. Whilst he was being beaten and abused by his sick father you was just coming into this world. Fuck, don’t think about any of that. “So, do I get to know your name? Gonna have to tell the story of how a dashing smoker saved me from a weirdo.”
Dashing? Were you flirting with him? You… were way out of his league. Jesus, why was you even paying him any mind when you could go home with practically any lad in there. Why did that sentiment bother him so much? “Simon.” He ground out finally, putting a firm stop to his inner monologue. “Nice name.” “No, it’s not. Just a name.” He couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his lips. “Don’t be stupid.” He watched the way your pretty face contorted into a smile and then fell into a fit of giggles. It was fucking bliss. The way that you laughed. It was almost fucking musical, or at least it was to Simon’s ears. “Nice fuckin’ name…” He repeated shaking his head. “Kid, you’ve got to work on technique a bit.” Then shaking his head as he took another long drag of his cigarette.
“Well, maybe you could help with that…” Your voice was suggestive and inquisitive, putting the question out there loosely enough that he could see it as a joke or an invitation. “M’sure there are plenty boys your age that could help with that.” There was finality to his tone that even you could sense. Jesus, you were 21 by your own confession. You was so fresh and new to the dating scene. He, on the other hand, was just beginning his 30s, though his years of service made him feel a lot older. There was no way he could just fuck around with a girl like you. It wouldn’t fair.
Sensing his apprehension you simply shrugged your shoulders, as carefree as ever and then muttered. “Maybe~” Nabbing a nearby empty cigarette packet and jotting down your details onto the card before sliding it in his direction. “Guess if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
A flurry of girls stumbled from the club, surrounding her in a moment in a loud chatter of excitement. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere!” “C’mon, next club~” “Who is that?” “What happened to your shoe?” The questions buzzed around his mind and you kept his gaze until whisked away by her friends. “Fuckin’ hell…” Cursing under his breath as he inspected the packet between his fingers, taking the final drag of his cigarette and then flicking it aside.
Masterlist | Ask | 28-08-2023
#simon ghost x reader#ghost x oc#simon riley x oc#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#ghost x reader#cod mw2#cod x reader#cod x oc#simon riley#simon riley x you#ghost mw2
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Hello it's me again. I hope all is well with you. I was wondering if u could write something about reader and any of the bat boys (maybe all three but not shorts) where the teenage daughter is dating or something? You can write the way u want
*Cracks knuckles* time for girl dad Cassian 😍😍😍😍
Daddy's Girl
Summary - With his daughter freshly turning 50, Cassian now faces the hardships of losing his babygirl to adulthood and the horrors of dating.
Warnings- very protective Cassian along with Uncle Az and Rhys having to do their thing, usual batboy dramatics. **edit to additional warnings** adults discussing different methods of sex education and dads doing the being more protective of their daughters than their sons thing**
A/N - I based Adriana's age off what I thought I remembered Alys saying about fae young in the first book (her nephew's were 50 and just looked like adult) pleaze correct me if I'm wrong, though
🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇
You glared as Cassian sighed again. Flipping the page in your book as he shifted and stared at you. "Just tell me where she is." You looked up at him over the edge of your book before shutting it slowly and laying it on the coffee table.
"I've told you." You answer him cooly, watching as that smirk grew on his face.
Cassian shook his head. "You told me what she was doing, that you had allowed her to leave with a friend," he said the word like he was holding back a vomit, "but not where she was." You two had played this game frequently. The one where he'd do his best to play Azriel and drag answers from you. It wasn't until familiar scarred hands found your jaw and Rhysand appeared next to Cassian that you realized this was serious.
"Where is my niece?" Azriel uttered the words in an eerily calm voice as he forced you to look at him.
You checked your shields, swallowing thickly. Had you known when Adriana was born 50 years ago she would be the only female among the litter of children, you would have immediately ran for hills.
Rhys had 4 sons with Feyre. All of whom were incredibly protective of their female cousin. Azriel shared 7 kids with Gywn. All male. All older than your daughter. You and Cassian shared 3 children. Two twin sons, both cunning and smart, and your youngest, sweet Adriana.
"She's in Velaris." Azriel scoffed at the answer and you checked your shields again as the first scratch came.
"Semantics." Rhysand purred. "Where in Velaris?"
"And with whom?" Cassian immediately followed, his body language much more relaxed despite the panic radiating down the bond.
Azriel had not dropped your chin. Keeping your eyes and face locked on his. "Y/n, you know how this ends. You can tell us freely or I can pry it from you."
You spat back quickly. "Only if Gywn is joining." The shock made Azriel's hand fall from your face and allowed you to put space between the three of them and you. "She's a grown female. If she wants to go on a date, that is perfectly fine."
Cassian's eyes were wide immediately. "You didn't say it was a date before, sweetheart."
"Because I knew you would react like this." You paused, crossing your arms against your chest before looking at Rhysand. "When Nyx went on his first date, you told him how to charm her into his bed." Rhys nodded in agreement and smiled fondly.
You then turned to Azriel. "When Erza wanted to court a female for the first time, not just date her, but truly court her, you took him to not one, not two, but 7 brothels, one in each court, ensuring he had learned how to please a female from sex workers." Azriel didn't disagree, the corners of his lips twitching up as his eyes sparkled.
You finally turned to Cassian, a finger raised. "And you. You, dear husband. The one who planted legends of the sexual escapades of you and your two brother, into our sons minds, shall I bring up the incident where we walked in on our twin sons and that fem-"
Cassian stood, covering your mouth quickly with his eyes wide. "This is different. This is my daughter. My illyrian daughter who has wings. My daughter who chose arts and philanthropy over training. My girl-"
"Our girl," Rhys corrected softly. "Addy is the only girl we were blessed with. We don't mind that she's on a date. We just want to know who and where." He stared at you, eyes searching and pleading for an answer. "Please, y/n, it wasn't really that long ago when she used to say she was going to marry myself or Azriel because we would never hurt her. What if he does hurt her? And we weren't there." Rhysand's jaw tightened, his eyes squeezing shut as if to erase an image he did not want to create. "Who is she with? Please. She's just."
"She's our world," Azriel finished. His voice was also tight. Eyes peering up at the ceiling. "She is a gentle, kind, beautiful girl. I just do not ever want to see her hurt."
Cassian whispered, "I will not be able to live with myself if something happens to her, y/n." Your eyes were watering as you stared at Cassian. "Sweetheart, please. We weren't ready for this. I was not ready for her to date yet. Especially without me meeting who she was going out with."
"You already know him," you answered softly. "Micha Vanserra and Adriana are at the bakery we go to every Saturday on the Sindra. They're going to attend a candlelit concert in the heart of the Rainbow tonight. They are meeting another couple there." You watched as Rhys relaxed slightly and Azriel's wings unfurled.
"Eris and Nesta's son?" Azriel sat down and shrugged. "She's safe. Nesta and Eris worked very hard to ensure he grew up respecting and admiring females and women. He is with Eris at every visit to shelters for females. Good kid."
Rhys nodded in agreement. "Nyx is going to the same concert with a female tonight. I'm assuming that is who they are meeting. If he does, by chance, do anything to her, Nyx will probably just kill him. He likes the male but hasn't forgiven Eris for the comment about y/n when she was pregnant." You rolled your eyes, having forgiven Eris for calling you a "delectable pumpkin ripe for taking" trying to get under your husband's skin many years ago.
Cassian stared at you. "You let her leave with Micha Vanserra?" You nodded. "He's not good enough." Cassian immediately turned to head out of the door only to be stopped by shadows and tendrils of darkness.
Azriel had pulled out cards and had summoned whiskey. Rhys spoke, leaning back into the couch further as he poured 3 glasses. "Cassian, we have an alliance with Autumn. Micha is a good male. A very good one. And well trained in combat. Along with that, he is the heir of the Autumn Court. What were you hoping for? A God?"
Cassian's hand on his hidden dagger twitched, and his shoulders fell in defeat. "She's my baby," he repeated softly.
You moved to him, a hand running up and down between his shoulder blades. "And it's time for her to fly, Cass. Stopping her from dating will push her away and create secrets. We promised all of our kids we would never put them in a situation where secrets felt needed, remember?" He nodded, wings falling even more. "Come drink with your brothers and play cards. How long has it been since you three had a poker night? How long has it been since we had a child free night?"
"Years," Cassian grumbled. "Since Nyx was born." You nodded, kissing his back. "Maybe a few rounds." He moved to them, conceding and sitting in the circle as Rhys cheered in victory, and Azriel smiled and dealt cards. "If She's late, though, I'm hunting him down."
"Oh yeah," Azriel agreed. "Rhys and I already decided that." Azriel paused, studying his cards, "Now what exactly did my nephews do?" You watched as Cassian's eyes wrinkled slightly as he smiled. Rhys threw you a wink, and you blew him a kiss as you walked away, your husband already deep into the story about your sons.
#acotar#acotar x reader#azriel acotar#eris vanserra#azriel#rhys acotar#cassian x reader#cassian acotar#cassian fic#girldad!cassian
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Until I Found You - Chapter 1
Quinn Hughes x reader
This chapter is more of a background story/introduction of the reader (no Quinn yet)
Word count: 829
>Chapter 1< Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
You were looking for a job when you had the amazing idea to go for one on a hockey team, the only sport I actually enjoy. When I got a call saying I got the job on marketing and social media for the Devils I was head over heels
The day they introduced me to the players I was terribly nervous, I'm not a social person at all, and being surrounded by a group of loud, confident and cocky men was not the best for my anxiety.
After a couple of days with them they noticed how uncomfortable I was being the spotlight so Nico made it his job to make me feel at ease, and to my surprise all of his closest group welcomed me in, even Jack, which sometimes had trouble keeping his flirtatious personality down with me being the only young woman on the road.
Luke on the other way was way too cute and immediately told me he consideres me a sister, saying that he'd traded me for Jack any time.
After a couple of weeks Jack spent some alone time with me, saying that I gave him the peace he'd never had before. He also started saying I was like a twin sister, obviously it had everything to do with our age and nothing with our looks.
I was in my office editing some videos for the last days of the season when Jack came through the door "Hey shortie"
"Jack, for the last time I'm 5'9" I said not even looking up from my work. He didn't have time to reply before Luke also entered the room "Hey shortie" he said in his cheery way.
"Hey pookie" I replied seconds before Jack whined "why does he get to call you that and not me?" I just laughed before looking up and seeing their nervous features. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing" "Dammit" they answered at the same time, I raised an eyebrow and Luke continued "We just... We know that you are going to spend your free time alone and that's fine, there's nothing wrong with that, and I'm sure you'd enjoy it..."
"Luke" Jack said stopping Luke's rambling. "Right... So we wanted to know if you'd like to join us on our lake house these couple of months. It's just us, Zegras, Drysdale, Holtzy and Quinn... I mean sure mom and dad are going to visit a couple of days but..."
"No, no you guys have done so much for me already I can't just take a free vacation at your house. I appreciate it really but I just can't"
Ever since you joined the Devils, they wouldn't allow you pay for anything, everyone treated you like a princess "you're Belle for sure, a beauty and a bookworm" said Holtz one day you mentioned the special treatment
One could say that everyone could kill for that, specially coming from hockey boys, but you couldn't help to ask yourself "am I being a burden? Do they pity me? Do they think I'm a golddigger? A Puck Bunny?"
But I know they love me... Well, sometimes I do. It's hard for me to accept that, when your whole life you've been told by your own family you're annoying and there's not really something to care or love about you.
When your family told you they didn't want to have you home giving them a hard time and cut communication with you, you were heartbroken and desperate for money working multiple jobs until 2 years later you finally found this place you felt peace at.
The problem is no one but Nico knows that it's only you against the world. The rest of the team is oblivious to how sometimes you skip meals in order to save money to have a decent department, or how no one ever visits you, not even in family events.
"Are you listening to me? Are you okay?" Jack's voice took me out of my thoughts and he was close to my face looking at me with a serious expression, which was unusual on him
When I didn't say anything, he said "Darling we want you there you're part of our freak family want it or not. And God knows we need you there, there has to be at least one responsable person... Also it's about a damn time that you meet Quinn"
You've met Jim and Ellen before, but you've never met the oldest Hughes brother, the first time Vancouver played against New Jersey I had the flu and I could get close to anyone to not put them at risk. The second time Quinn was out due to an injury
"Please shortie, you'll break my heart if you refuse to go" said Luke giving his biggest puppy eyes
"Are you sure everyone's okay with me joining, I don't wanna be a bu..."
"Stop it, we all want you there"
Hoping they wouldn't regret their choice and you let yourself be happy for a while you finally agreed to join them.
#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes#quinn hughes oneshot#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes#luke hughes imagine#luke hughes#nhl imagine#nhl oneshot
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i’m sorry i’m like this too.
but this site is so fucking WEIRD about john green. the cock monologue is whatever, but you also have a post about green being “weirdly chummy” with fans and. come on that was the actual problem in 2014. he was getting accused of pedophilia and grooming which was disproved at the time and remains completely untrue.
john green wasn’t predatory for writing YA novels with teenage girl main characters. he wasn’t predatory for interacting with fans who sought him out. he wasn’t predatory for creating an online community that remains safe for minors to participate in currently. he’s not a predator and he isn’t weird to his fans. it’s genuinely messed up to imply and keep implying that a YA author was being predatory towards fans after it was disproved. he had a public social media account before it was common for authors to engage that way. we were teens and we got weird about it.
it is actually serious to say john green was being inappropriate towards children and it’s important for all of our safety that we stay Very Very Clear about what predation is and who is Actually Dangerous To Children.
first off, no, you're not sorry, if you were sorry you would realize this ask sounds ridiculous and not send it, and yet here we are.
what really gets me the most about idiots such as yourself is that you make such a painstaking show of recounting How Things Really Happened, as if there's a massive conspiracy of historical revisionism afoot with the end goal of smearing a middle-aged YA author when like. i was literally there. i used this website before john green joined. i watched him get popular, i watched as we all took the piss by editing his text posts like we edited 10000 other text posts, i watched as a teenage girl called him a "creepy uncle at a pool party" and he responded by siccing his adult YA author friends and fans such as yourself on her so hard she deleted, i watched as he called nerdy girls an "underutilized resource" in a video targeted at boys, i watched as he jerked himself off in the notes of a gifset of his own movie ("is this the FIRST TIME the GIRL has kissed the BOY????"). i was (and still am) mutuals with the guy who edited the iconic copypasta over his announcement about hitting 100k followers or whatever.
i did not suffer through all of this, the worst fucking years of this hellsite, to be talked down to by tiktok users who deign to cite the deep magic to me. he was not targeted with post editing copypastas (yes, plural, it had been ongoing for months) for being neurodivergent. he wasn't even targeted for being creepy or predatory, although that was definitely a discussion being had at the time. he was targeted because he was fundamentally cringe before the word "cringe" had been discovered, and because he took himself so seriously that you were guaranteed to get a response from him every time.
imagine if Lin Manuel Miranda made an account on here now, and you could edit his posts, and every time you edited them, he would reblog it back from you saying "haha, very funny guys, but this is an edit! i didn't say this!", which you could then edit again, and so on and so forth. and then imagine if, a full decade after this happened, people who weren't even there started calling this practice "violent harassment" because someone edited his post to the "what the fuck did you fucking say about me?" copypasta once. and furthermore imagine that when you laugh at these people, they get really really indignant and demand you take them seriously and imply that somehow you're losing the debate by refusing to engage with them, and also that this is a debate all of a sudden instead of them embarrassing themselves
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Astarion has been breaking my poor heart.
This post will contain spoilers for the game and Astarion's romance/backstory. Before anyone comes at me, I want to say that you are the main character, you are supposed to change the fates and behaviours of your characters, especially if you are romancing them. It's a video game, that's kind of the point.
This post is extremely long and I apologise.
This analysis is based off my playthrough.
(*) means check notes at the bottom of the post.
I wasn't expecting to like him as much as I do. Don't get me wrong, I really liked him during EA and I thought he was funny, charming, flirty with a dark past and all that was just a means to cover his trauma but since the full game has come out and we've gotten to know more of him, it truly breaks my heart to see and know what he has been through. My sister and I were watching his reactions to be being rejected, being told that Tav only wants sex and forcing him to do things he doesn't want to do, it is truly heart-wrenching.
Many people expected Astarion to be this "I am so sexual and my romance will mostly be sex, also I will betray you the first chance I get." and it couldn't be further from the truth. Astarion is extremely loyal, and yes he has that air of flambouncy to him, will often make japes and say evil things but most of the time, it is just a facade. It's his shield in a way, he has been treated with utter cruelty for two hundred years of his life and now that he finally has some control over himself, he doesn't wish to be hurt again.
I don't think Astarion is ever completely evil, even in the beginning. He just wants to have fun and enjoy life after so many years of slavery. He likes it when you are snarky, say mean shit to people for fun but, he doesn't like to see innocents get hurt, and he doesn't support fighting for people who don't fight for themselves. Yes, he will support some of your evil decisions but they will lead to a bad ending, for you and your characters. It'll make Astarion wallow more in his greed and he'll lose the little humanity he has left. He doesn't really have a clear sense of direction in the beginning of the game as he's just found freedom and obviously wants to live life to the fullest, being evil comes naturally to him, it's instinct as its what he's been doing for two centuries.
This is my assumption since we don't know his actual age but since he's an elf who was well-respected in society, had a pretty prestigious job and was rich enough to be corrupt. I'd assume he was at least 70-100 years old before he was turned into a spawn. (EDIT - in a recent post by @deluxetrashqueen I saw the translation of the dates of birth and death on his tombstone:
"Astarion Ancunin
229-268 DR" to which he adds, "458DR - "
which shows that he was only 39 at the time of his death, which explains his emotional immaturity for an elf.) My point being, I believe he has been a spawn for longer than he's ever been a regular person. He has spent the longer part of his life doing evil things for an evil man, that was what his life was on a daily basis with Cazador. And his former work experience probably helped, he likely learnt pretty quick how much he took for granted as a living person and the harshness of his master, peers and people he seduced made him harsh and unforgiving in return.
Once you start getting close to him, you start to learn that he is only mean to people because of how life has treated him. In his romance, he says "no one ever looked out for me, no one ever said a kind word to me. You're the only one, no one is like that." Astarion starts to see, because of you that there is kindness in the world, and he finds kindness in you. Especially after his quest, as much as he'd hate to admit it, he also sees friends in your other companions as they do in him. By the end of Act 2, he starts to get more soft towards you and the decisions you make, often even disapproving of evil decisions. People often tend to forget that a lot of Astarion's evil personality is a front, it is not who he truly is.
These points will be better explained individually so I will talk about some themes.
Power: power plays a big part in his entire storyline. In the beginning, he wants to harness the powers of the tadpole to become powerful and at first, you think that it's simply because he's an evil character and he wants power for the sake of having it. Then later, he wishes to take over the power of the ascendant but mostly only to spite Cazador and take something important from him, not fully realising the true power of the rite.
As he slowly starts opening up to you, he tells you "the mind flayers tore me from that place" and you realise that its the tadpole that let's him walk in the sun, do things a vampire or spawn would never be able to, you learn that he hates being a vampire because he can't even remember what he looks like. He seeks power outside because he has had no power over himself for about two centuries, he thinks that having this power will fulfill his needs but it won't, we know it won't because in truth he only needs to reclaim his autonomy, physical and mental. Of course Astarion would never truly admit to this for a long while, even when he's romanced. I personally really love his good romance arc where he doesn't have sex with you, not because he dislikes you or doesn't want you but because, as he says "any kind of intimacy was something I performed to lure people back for him. While I know things between us are different... being with someone still feels tainted. It brings up all those feelings of disgust and loathing." He has spent 200 years or so bowing to Cazador's whims, done things to people he didn't want to do and I assume since it's heavily hinted at, were very sexual in nature. In a relationship, he simply wants to be seen as a person and I think that's really sad because that's how low the bar is for him.
In the ending of his quest, you can persuade him and tell him that going forth with the ritual won't set him free even if he thinks it will and I agree. If he's a slave to Cazador now, later he'd be a slave to power and greed. Just look at Cazador, despite being one of the most powerful beings in existence, he still wanted more power. That kind of greed and hunger never ends and Astarion would lose himself and who he has become while he was with us. Yes, it makes him walk in the sun again and do things a regular vampire can't but at what cost? 7,000 lives and his humanity. He would never be able to enjoy this "freedom" because he'll only strive to seek more power. In his ascendant ending, he becomes everything he's ever hated about Cazador, the cycle repeats itself, from Vellioth to Cazador and from Cazador to Astarion. And it will never end. Astarion even refuses to turn you into a vampire and wishes to keep you only as a spawn. With an insight check, you can learn that he thinks you're degrading yourself and he doesn't care. He now sees you as something to own, something to possess, not love. All his good qualities, wants and needs get twisted. Astarion truly only needs to feel like a person again but he doesn't fully realise this until you show it to him, through good deeds and actions, through simple acts of kindness. As he says in his "good" ending "I've been dead in the ground enough. It's time to try living again. With all that life has to offer."
Safety: Astarion wants to feel safe. He is so scared of being found by Cazador, he knows he's looking for him and the only thing giving him some form of safety from Cazador is the tadpole so of course he wants to harness its powers that is until he finds out it'll turn him into another kind of monster, a mind flayer. He doesn't wish to lose himself and his freedom again hence is vehemently against taking on the tadpole's powers but he doesn't stop you because that is of course, your decision to make. He says "if such power would please you, darling, I won't stop you. But do be careful, I want you to remain you." Now the only thing left that can properly give him his freedom is Cazador's death and he wants to kill him himself which I think is perfectly acceptable, Cazador deserves to die and if it is by Astarion's hands, all the better. But, in his romance, he makes it clear that he's doing it for safety, and he tells himself that he wants to take the power of the rite for safety as well because in truth, he is terrified of being powerless again. He does want revenge yes, but he also wants to keep you and himself safe from Cazador, even in the dungeon, if you run an insight check, the narrator tells you that he is losing his mind because of the power that's on offer and the smell of blood in the air. It's almost as if to say "he's losing his mind, please stop him before he forgets who he is." Astarion NEEDS your guidance*, eventually he even thanks you for 'saving him from himself.' In his good ending, he sees that in taking the power, he would be no better than Cazador and would become everything he's ever hated about him, and inflict on others what his former master inflicted on him, starting with you. His ascendant ending is honestly a very sad ending for his character, all that growth, change and development you bring to him throughout your journey just gone down the drain as he becomes an unfeeling, evil, narcissistic arsehole who only craves for more power. In his good ending, he will be safe, with you and with the friends he has made along the way. He is proud of himself and so is everyone else, it offers him a kind of friendship that's afforded to very few in the D&D world, especially a vampire/spawn whose very existence is hated. It is a bond based on trust, loyalty and to a degree, even love instead of fear like in the ascendant ending.
Abandonment and Fear: Astarion is driven by fear but he also knows facing Cazador is inevitable and something he needs to face rather than avoid. Even if he isn't outright seeking it (but he does seek it) I think he is braver than he likes to think and he definitely has some anti-hero traits. He likes the tadpole because it helped him get away from Cazador's authority and he enjoys bending others to his will since it makes him feel more powerful compared to how he's felt the past two centuries. But if you choose to not do the same, he doesn't really care. He doesn't except it of you nor is he disappointed (since he neither approves or disapproves. He only disapproves helping people who didn't ask or didn't want to be helped) he only gives a snarky comment or two about what he would've done instead and follows you anyway. He realises you're a good person. If you indulge too much however, I would argue that he agrees simply because he doesn't want you to turn against him. Perhaps he believes that you can turn on him and kill him as easily as you killed the tieflings or other innocents. He probably thinks it's easier to turn a good person evil than an evil person, good (tbh he wouldn't be entirely wrong.) And making bad choices does negatively affect his character of course but I just thought I'd put that out there as I think it's very likely for him to do so. He is definitely extremely paranoid, he hardly ever says how he truly feels out loud but when you break up with him (it's so heartbreaking omg) he says "I was beginning to think someone truly wanted me. I shouldn't have deluded myself." and "From the start, I was rather counting the hours until it was going to end. Midnight chimes, eh?" As heartbreaking as it is, the latter line shows how terrified he was of being abandoned or only be used for his body, he kept obessesively worrying that Tav would leave him after he bore his heart out to them. There's another bit of dialogue in Act 1 where he is trying his lines with you to get you to sleep with him a second time and you can say no which he is fine with but if you outright reject him there, meaning "I never want to see you like that again" he gets extremely sad: "Well, excuse me while I die of a broken heart. [slight chuckle] In all honesty, it's a shame. That time was special to me. I've gotten on my back 10,000 times or more and forgotten half of them. But you, I'll remember. [long pause] Have a fine evening... dear." Mind you, this is after you've only slept with him once. His dialogue makes it seem like he was already catching feelings for you, and not realising that himself until this happens. Seeing this made me realise that you're the first person he's slept with of his own volition, even if it was to seduce you. For the longest time, I think Astarion doesn't even want to believe you'll like him as something more than someone to sleep with, he hopes you might as his rejection line says so but astarion is nothing if not careful and well, paranoid.
That's why he's so shocked when you choose to not let him bite Araj at Moonrise even if it gave you something powerful in return. He sees that you chose his comfort over a genuinely useful commodity. Biting people or using his vampire, well, anything makes him extremely uncomfortable since it reminds him of things he needed to do for Cazador. If he bites her, it makes him feel like being a slave again, but bending to your will and wishes instead of his former master's. He realises he doesn't know how to say no. Which is another thing he says if you wish to pursue only a sexual relationship with him. He feels played.
Freedom: this is probably the main theme to his character arc. He wants to be free, not only from his master but also free to make right decisions and make decisions for himself, something he hasn't been able to do for years. This is why respecting his decision to not sleep with you is important to him, he doesn't feel comfortable being physically close to someone in a sexual way as it makes him doubt the person's true intentions and feelings and of course, makes him feel loathsome and disgusted with himself. He needs that time where you just connect as people to really see that you are in fact genuine and he wouldn't be hurt if he trusted you or gave you his heart. Towards the end of the game, he is still quite ruthless, but mostly only towards people who do wrong and are criminals. Astarion has a very strong set of ideals, he believes that people who do wrong deserve to die no matter the crime. I don't think this is entirely true, every crime deserves a different punishment but most criminals, those who do severe wrong and still get away with it, do deserve to die but this is just my opinion of course. He is ruthless towards bad people because that's how people have been to him, at least Cazador and I wouldn't be surprised if he was treated badly during his sexual encounters with strangers while working for him.
Why I think the Ascendant ending is a tragic ending for Astarion's character and for you.
I won't lie, there are some aspects of ascended Astarion that are pretty hot and I'm a sucker for (pun absolutely intended) powerful, gothic vampires but this ending comes at the cost of way too much. One simply being: Astarion isn't Astarion anymore. All his snarkiness, playful nature and strange innocence is gone. In his ascendant ending, that is, when he takes the power of the Rite of Ascension for himself by carving the same rune on Cazador's back that's on his own, Astarion loses himself. In D&D lore, full vampires are unfeeling, ruthless and have all their good traits twisted into something more malignant and evil. If Astarion loved you, that love turns into possession, if he cared for you, it turns into obsession. He doesn't truly care anymore... as a vampire, he is manipulating you and telling you things you want to hear instead of what he's actually feeling. He never truly got that moment of catharsis by killing Cazador as he does in his spawn ending. That simple bliss of killing the man that enslaved him and worse all these years; he never gets to experience that because he ends up using Cazador for the same power Cazador killed Vellioth for in the past, albeit worse. It's a never-ending cycle. And if he turns you into his spawn, you will go through the same fate Astarion went through and probably turn on him the same way he turned on Cazador. He has absolutely no sympathy for you or for anyone that is not him, in fact he feels almost disgusted by you because he thinks you're degrading yourself in front of him. There is a conversation between him and if you refuse to become his spawn, and I think it sums up his character perfectly as a vampire, it goes like this:
(choosing different options will have different dialogues but they more or less lead to him saying the same thing.)
ASTARION: Just so you know, I have everything I've ever wanted. Everything lies ahead. I can see my path to a waking dream. From the Crimson Palace, I will govern day and night. Create a city of spawn who bow before me, cast a fog over the world for my children.
TAV: But the Palace halls will be lonely.
ASTARION: You'll be lonelier than I. Very soon I will discover how to call my legions of wolves, become a sea of mist, run wrongside-up on roofs. [laughs] Everything vampires do best.
You could have, too. [sniggers] What a waste.
TAV: You don't really have anything at all.
ASTARION: I can take anything I want. I should've made you a spawn just to teach you that.
And there we have it, that last bit of dialogue shows how Astarion is now everything he hated about his own master. He is Cazador's literal and spiritual successor, he thinks you need to be punished for rejecting him. He doesn't feel for you anymore, at least not in a human way. He has become someone else entirely, for the worst. His drive for taking the power of the rite was to be able to walk in the sun again but as a full vampire, he wants to "dominate it (the world) until the sun melts and give ourselves over to the night."
Astarion NEEDS change, he needs to see that the world can be a kinder place than the one he's lived in this whole time. Just a bit of care and love with him goes a long way. In his spawn ending, he comes to realise that you gave him his life back even if it was as a spawn because that is true freedom. He is free from his master, and greed & power which was in the disguise of safety. He may never be able to walk in the sun, but he is free to make his own decisions that are driven by his choices. One of them being; wanting and loving you, living a full life with you, whatever that may entail.
If you went into the game thinking that Astarion will betray you no matter what then giving him the ascendant ending brings your fears to life. Astarion doesn't learn anything, by making him a full vampire, you basically tell him that he can only be powerful and worth something if he has super vampire powers, and in turn, you lose everything too. Astarion may have gained unparralled strength but now he has no need of you, you gave him everything he wanted and nothing he needed so now he can do whatever he wants with you because you are lesser than him, literally, he is much stronger than you are and his power will only grow as he discovers more of it. He tries to manipulate you into turning you into a spawn. A dialogue being:
TAV: After everything you went through with Cazador, you're going to make me a spawn?
ASTARION: Oh that was completely different, I'd never hurt you. I love you. That's what you've been waiting to hear, isn't it? That's what you want?
Which just shows you how he's only saying "I love you" because that's what you want to hear, so you agree to becoming his spawn. He doesn't mean it, it doesn't really have any feeling behind it whatsoever. And if he turns you into a spawn, you have basically lost everything. Because he is obsessive over you, he'll never let you go and since now he is properly evil, he likely won't turn you into a vampire either, even if he says he will.
This is just my take on the ending though, I think we can all agree the ascendant ending is the evil ending for his character, even if it is an ending you prefer. I'm not trying to hate on anyone who does like this ending, only stating that I think it is meant to be evil and I personally don't like it.
CONCLUSION
Once you get to truly know Astarion, he's a pretty decent guy. I can't speak much for people who didn't romance him, I'm not entirely sure how his non-romance route plays out. The good conclusion of his quest is so wholesome, where he says he feels "truly, honestly free" and tells you "you saved me from myself. This is a gift, you know, thank you. I won't forget it." getting full circle to the first time you let him bite you (the only time in my case.) It shows so much character development and pure joy in the way he thanks you (it doesn't need to be said but props to Neil Newbon for bringing the character to life.) He will always be a spawn and yet, he feels like "anything and everything is possible" because of you and the choices you made with him, you believed in him when he didn't believe in himself, you showed him that he is enough just the way he is and he doesn't need to become a full vampire to be strong and powerful. Astarion comes out of his finale, a much more positive person, who actually cares even if he won't show it and the best part is, he always keeps that tiny streak of evil and mischief within him. He hasn't lost sight of himself, he's just less spiteful now and feels free to actually enjoy life rather than constantly being scared of what might happen to him. He finds trust and happiness in you and it makes him happy that you find the same within him. You are his home and he hopes he is yours.
I understand that my analysis may not be perfect and my interpretation of the character may be different from someone else's but that's fine, he is a video game character that can be played so many ways and people can go around it however they like, interpret his character however they wish. This is just what I think.
NOTES
'Astarion needs your guidance.' - no, this is not gaslight-y. Astarion is a deeply troubled character and clearly finds it hard to differentiate between right and wrong. He often asks for your input and what you think by Act 2 which isn't a bad thing, he's asking for help and I think that shows how far he's come. In the final scene of his quest, he is overcome by the promise of power and the safety it would've provided which would've consumed him as it did Cazador, Astarion admits to this himself too later on once he can think clearly and is in a more positive mindset. There is nothing wrong with guiding your partner towards something that will eventually be better for their growth as a person in the long run.
#astarion analysis#forgotten realms#astarion and tav#astarion x tav#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate 3#baldurs gate#astarion bg3#bg3 astarion#astarion baldur's gate 3#astarion baldurs gate#astarion x mc#tav x astarion#astarion romance#bg3#astarion#astarion baldur's gate
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