#older reader
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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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Love is a flame that thrives in the darkest corners of our hearts.
Fernando Alonso x goth mommy!reader || 18+
Summary: A Halloween party led Fernando to meet his one and only Morticia.
A/N: So it's the first time I write for Fernando so I might have not caught the essence of him, but I tried my best. Also, I love all the young readers (especially young mommy readers) but I'm kind of bored of them :// And I've never yet encountered an older reader so I decided to make this fic's reader around Nando's age with two sons - a 17 year old and 3 year old (which aren't really relevant here). She's also taller than him (181 cm, something like Lance). I'm also not that deep into the f1 universe yet and I don't know who's friends with who from the drivers so I just picked Carlos and Lando for Fernando's closest paddock friends (correct me pls).
+ The situation is completely made up. And I apologise if the Spanish and German parts are bad 😔🤚
Warnings/Tags: smut, 18+, older female reader, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, older reader, kids
Art to the fic
Wordcount: 4219 (around)
Masterlist
✧༺♥༻✧
Halloween was approaching with huge steps, just as a particular big costume party in Berlin did, to which all the F1 drivers were invited. Everyone was excited, besides the oldest one, driving for the turquoise team – Fernando Alonso.
His indifference was caused by the feeling he was too old for such parties and the fact that he had no one to go with. But after on going persuasion from Lando and Carlos, the poor man gave in and agreed to attend the event.
Although there was another problem – lack of creativity. Fernando had no idea what he should wear and if only he could, he would just throw on the first two things he'd find in his wardrobe. But he couldn’t. No, he had to have some costume. That’s when Norris and Sainz stepped in once again.
„What about Ghostface? "
The youngest asked enthusiasticaly. The three of them sitting in a cafe, drinking their coffees and teas and discussing their costumes. Both of them already knew what they were going to wear but refused to tell for a surprise effect at the party.
„Cliché! "
Carlos responded before he put forward his proposition.
„How about Beetlejuice?”
He asked sipping his chocolate macchiato but earned a displeased look from Lando, who didn’t agree.
„Really? Beetlejuice? Come on! I know his 40 but no one has to know! "
Noriss huffed crossing his arms.
„But Beetlejuice is iconic! "
The two started to argue, making everyone around them pay attention to them. Fernando sighed shaking his head, a little embarrassed by his friends’ behavior.
„If you won't stop arguing I'm not gonna go... "
He hissed trying to calm down the boys, who acted like children.
„Isn’t there a character that doesn’t need a lot of preparation from me? Someone... I don't know... Looking like me? "
Alonso asked after the boys finally stopped their childish quarrel. They both looked at Fernando, then at themselves with mischievous smiles and back at Nando.
„You know... "
Lando started, circling his finger on the wooden table.
„There is that one easy... spooky... Spanish character... "
Carlos continued smiling sweetly at his friend. Alonso quickly understood who they meant, his eyes widening and shook his head disapprovingly.
„No, no, no. I ain't going with Gomez. He makes no sense without Morticia. And you know well I DO NOT have one... "
„It doesn’t matter! I'm sure there's going to be a lot of Morticia's trying to find their Gomez! "
Lando smiled excitedly, he already could see Fernando as the head of Addams family dancing on the dance floor with some beautiful, georgous woman. It was also a great opportunity for the spaniard to find a new lover.
„But it's the easiest character for you! All you need is a striped suit, which I already know where to buy, and some gel for your hair. That's it! "
Lando tried to argument their point as well as he could with a slight help from Carlos.
„He's right. And maybe you’ll be lucky enough to find yourself a chick, finally. We have enough of you grumbling you have enough being alone... „"
The man whispered the last sentence hoping Nando won't hear it, but he did and softly smacked the back of Sainz's head. He did in fact had enough of being alone, as well as seeing all the guys glued to their girlfriends on the paddock, kissing, giggling and being happy. He wanted to puke at the only thought. After an hour of Carlos and Lando stating their pluses for the idea, and Fernando sinking in them, the older man finally but reluctantly agreed.
✧༺♥༻✧
When the time came, Nando put on his Gomez suit – it had not only white stripes but also turquoise ones as well as white – turquoise rose in the chest pocket - that Lando found for him and brushed his hair back with gel, leaving some loose strands for the hairstyle to look better. Carlos and Charles picked him up dressed as Mario and Luigi. Fernando could swear they argued which one would be Mario, and it amused him a little when he saw them.
„Hey man! Where's your Morticia? "
Leclerc teased with a smirk. Fernando just rolled his eyes and kicked Sainz’ sit to make him drive away already.
Soon they arrived to the party, stepping out of the car Norris and Piastri quickly greeted them dressed as Scooby and Shaggy with Lily dressed as Velma. The six of them walked in, loud music filling their ears. They filled one of the booths and immediately ordered drinks. Halloween sangrias, raven coktails and other drinks as quickly appeared on the table, as quickly disappeared from it.
While the guys danced Lando tried his best to find a Morticia for Fernando. He was right, there were a lot of them. All of them looked the same with small alterations to the dress, well they were all the same character after all.
Neither of them grasped Alonso's interest and the man was about to give up when he run into one of them after leaving the bathroom. She was different. Taller, older, mature, more dedicated to the role, more passionate. She caught his eye immediately.
„Oh god, I'm sorry”
He said after bumping into her, before she turned around and took his breath away.
„It's okay liebling~” (darling)
The woman smiled down at Nando, her voice like honey to his ears. The man took a good look at her.
Her slender fingers were wrapped around a glass - he wished they could be wrapped around his neck - pale skin shined in the lights as if she was one of the Cullens - he wondered if it burned in the sun - her eyes so dark he wasn’t sure if they were real, sharp canine teeth he wanted sanked deep in his neck so bad. She seemed like a real life vampire.
„Let me guess... You're a Gomez looking for his Morticia? "
She spoke up, getting him out of trance. A soft blush spread across the man's face, barely visible under the red light he was standing in, and he nodded sheepishly. The woman chuckled warmly, her tone changing from a playful to flirtatious one.
„Well, then I guess you're lucky. You've got yourself an einzigartig one~” (unique)
Stretching her hand towards Fernando, expecting him to kiss it she didn’t have to wait long as he obliged immediately. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of her palm before asking in a gentleman manner.
„Would you like to dance? "
The woman agreed and after finishing her drink they were off to the dance floor.
They had a pretty good time, the woman taught Fernando a few moves, they were chatting throughout and giggling at the ridiculous costumes.
„I have to admit, you're an amazing dancer. You could make it to Dancing with the Stars”
She teased with a gorgeous smile, making Fernando practically melt in her embrace. He held onto her waist tightly as if she was going to run away the moment he'd let go.
But she wouldn’t. She was too mesmerized by the man to do so. Fernando shook his head at her words.
„No, no, cariño. You're the one who can really dance here”
Nando praised her then pressed another kiss to her hand and squeezed it gently. He was such a sweet gentleman it made butterflies fly in her stomach. Soon Alonso took her back to his booth where he realized he didn’t even knew her name.
✧༺♥༻✧
„I'm Y/N”
You said with a smile while shaking the guys’ hands. You’ve managed to catch that they all were F1 drivers and the girl was a girlfriend of one of them.
They were really nice people, aside the fact they were joking about your height difference, but still the only one you were really interested in was Fernando.
He was amazing - charming, handsome, soft, flirty. He had strong arms you wanted wrapped around yourself all the time, gentle hands that made you shiver, his wrinkles made him even more handsome and the shining hazel eyes made you loose yourself in them.
After some time you were left alone with the girl as the boys went to order more drinks.
„Are you as much invested in racing as them?"
You asked Lily and the girl shook her head.
„Not really. I support Oscar as much as I can but I still don’t get some of the things, like penalties, nor the whole hype. But y'know, I try my best”
Nodding your head you reciprocated the smile. You wondered how it was to be an F1 driver's girlfriend. For sure it wasn’t easy, especially because of the media and rumors, but you believed they could overcome it.
„So are you all here because of a race? Or did you just get the invitations to boost the event? "
„Well, there is a race here in a few days, but I wouldn't be surprised if the boostin up was true too! "
You both chuckled amuzed, you had to admit you wouldn’t be surprised either.
You quickly started to like the girl, she was really mature and smart for her age, not like her boyfriend.
Lily liked you too, she enjoyed the youthful vibe you radiated and the fact that Fernando seemed to finally find a woman perfect for himself. She just hoped you wouldn’t be just a one night stand.
„Well, well, well. I see our girls already get along. It's a good sign buddy~”
Piastri teased, nudging Fernando’s side as they came back. The older man rolled his eyes a bit annoyed before sitting down beside you and handing you your black magic margarita.
You took it after a quick ‘thanks' escaped your lips and took a sip, meanwhile your free hand made it's way to his lap to sooth it and signal everything's okay and there was no need to be annoyed. Nando relaxed under your touch and took your hand in his, interwining fingers together.
You continued your chat with Lily, from time to time joining the men's conversation. You really enjoyed their company.
✧༺♥༻✧
When the night passed you were finally left alone with Nando. Your legs layed on top of his, his arm wrapped around your waist pulling you close while your hand toyed with the hem of his jacket.
You both were a little tipsy, but sober enough to notice the sexual tension.
„My chauffeur will be here soon, thought we could get out of here and have some more fun~”
You purred into his ear. Feeling his hand squeeze your hip afterwards was enough for you to know that he was more than keen on it.
When your chauffeur arrived you left the bar and quickly hopped into your 50s Cadillac Hearse. The man completely forgot that someone might have seen you and take photos, he was too occupied by you.
Fernando’s lips immediately attacked yours the moment he closed the door. You were devoured into the passionate kiss and didn’t even notice the man’s hands starting to roam your body.
They were warm, burning in contrast to your freezing ones. When you burried them under Nando's shirt you could feel him shiver but soon he relaxed.
The drive to your small ghotic castle in Zehlendorf took around 30 minutes, but felt like 5 as you were drowned in your dirty ministrations.
Good thing the window to the front of the car was closed, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to do that. It was nothing much sexual, just kiss by kiss while your hands explored each others’ body respectfully.
You belived Fernando saved his – what Lando and Sainz called – freaky side for while you were in the bedroom and you didn’t want to rush anything, it was perfect as it was.
The man pulled you out of the car when it stopped, he didn’t bother to look at the facility as he carried you bridal style to the door. Your butler opened it and instructed Alonso to your bedroom where he quickly took you and gently settled on the bed.
You pulled him into another searing kiss while fiddling with the buttons of his jacket. The man took it off after you slowly and playfully unbuttoned it, while not breaking eye contact, and tossed it to the floor.
Next was your black fur. His shirt. Your gorset. Bit by bit you undressed each other. You appreciated how gentle he was with your garments, he figured they were expensive and he also liked them too much to ruin them.
Once you finally layed naked underneeth him he examined you in a lustful but also admiring way.
Your breasts were rather small - but he didn’t mind, stretch marks graced your lower belly, hips and thighs - he already knew he was going to follow the patterns with his fingers afterwards while softly tickling you, he could aslo see your ribs – barely but still – and he knew he would have to be careful with you. You were even more thin than he thought, almost slander like, but he liked that.
You were a change from all the younger, tanned, almost everywhere full woman he usually hooked up with, and it was a nice change.
You also were able to survey him better. He was even better built than you imagined, his tanned skin looked like caramel compared to your almost ghostish one, and the beautfiul samurai tattoo made you gasp when you noticed it in a mirror behind.
Also his ass cheeks... They were bigger than yours and you felt kind of jelous, in a funny way.
„Hermosa... perfecta... asombrosa... “ (beautiful, perfect, breathtaking)
He praised, his lips slowly making their way down your cold body.
“Y apuesto inteligente” (And I bet intelligent)
Fernando stopped just before your womanhood and said with a smirk painted on his face, his eyes piercing yours. His words were like spells, making your body shrink under his and warmth spread across it.
“Fernie...”
You breathed out, begging him to go lower which he obliged right away. It felt like bliss when he finally reached your rose, slowly licking it from the very bottom up to your sensitive bud, before starting to slowly devour it.
Saying he was skilled was an understatement, he was an expert. He was nothing like your ex-husband, who just used you for his own pleasure.
No. For Fernando your pleasure was a priority, making you enjoy your time with him was numero uno on his to do list for the rest of the night, and you didn’t complain.
When you were wet enough the man brought one of his fingers up to your entrance, touching it slightly while his eyes averted to yours, an asking expression on his face.
He didn’t have to say anything for you to nodd your head eagerly. After that he pushed his digit inside slowly, his eyes not leaving your face searching for any sign of discomfort. But there was none, so after a few thrusts that made you moan his name in such a beautiful way, he pushed another one and went a little bit faster.
The pace was neither painfully fast nor boringly slow, it was just perfect – his fingers hitting all the juicy spots and making lewd noises each time they pulled out and reentered you - enough for you to come undone in a short period of time.
Your hand gripped his brown locks while you came on his face. Nando tried his best to ride you through your high - his lips joining his fingers - then clean you the best he could.
Your heavy breaths were interrupted by his face suddenly appearing in front of yours. A huge grin graced it - you could tell he was proud with himself and his actions – and your juices were spread across his lips and beard.
You giggled a little at his puppy like behaviour, you could swear if he had a tail it would’ve been wagging like craz in that moment. You’ve managed to grab a tissue from your nightstand then clean his face.
“Es war wundervoll” (it was amazing)
You praised him with a smile while ruffling his hair.
“It wasn’t the end”
The man said before pressing his lips against yours. This time the kiss was more hungry and lustful than soft as the ones before, but you didn’t mind.
His palms toyed with your breasts, they fit in them perfectly making Nando groan satisfyingly. He kept teasing you until you couldn’t take it anymore and moaned out.
„Nando please... I need you... I need you inside of me liebling...” (darling)
You didn’t have to repeat yourself. The man grabbed your hand and run it gently through your sore core to gather your juices, then wrapped it around his member, giving it a few pumps before aligning with your hole.
He interwined your fingers together and slowly pushed inside, the stretch he gave you burned a little but soon was a delight.
After pushing almost all the way in Nando let you adjust, his free hand soothing your cheek as he observed your face shine in pleasure.
“Maravilloso” (wonderfull)
A whisper escaped his lips and just then did he start to move. His movement was slow but deep, his member burrying deep inside of you with every thrust.
“Tan bueno...” (So good)
Fernando moaned into your ear then hid his face in the crook of your neck, where he nibbled at your skin and left a few hickeys along with wet kisses.
His movements became more and more erratic with every push and pull as he lost himself in the feeling of you. He loved the way you clenched around him every time he hit the A spot, as much as he loved the challange to find your G spot to grant you ultimate pleasure.
You wrapped your free hand around the man, long, red nails scratching his skin gently and leaving soft red marks.
You couldn’t remember when was the last time you had such an amzing sex. Maybe because after your husband you opted for younger men, neither able to satisfy you.
But Fernando? He was your age and knew well how to satisfy a woman. You felt like a queen while in his embrace, his priority to make you feel good amazed you and sent a thrill down your spine.
Both your legs were wrapped around him too, trying to pull him even closer to yourself. A smirk appeared on his face at your actions and he pulled it away from your neck to look at you.
“Necesitada~”(needy)
The man teased, one of his hands finding it’s way to your breast to fiddle with your hard nipple. It earned a loud moan out of you, so loud he feared someone could hear you two, but soon the thought left his head when you started to breathe rapidly.
You were close to your orgasm, which meant he could finally let himself go and make his movements faster and sloppier.
Grunts, pants and moans filled the room as both of you reached your highs, the man pulled out before cumming which you really appreciated.
Fernando collapsed on top of you as you both breathed heavily, yours hampered by his weight.
“Fernie liebling... I can’t breath...”
You mumbled kissing the top of his head, a chuckle escaping your lips when he shot up, a worried expression on his face.
„I-I’m so sorry cariño. Are you okay?”
He asked and cleaned you from his seed. His hands soothing your rib cage gently, from time to time brushing against your breasts as he looked down at you, eyes full of worry and brows furrowed.
„Nein... I’m great”
(No)
You smiled brightly and the man sighed in relief. He flopped down beside you and pulled you close then covered your bodies with your cashmere blanket.
Just as he predicted his hands immediately wandered to your hips, drawing your stretch mark patters, while you layed your head on top of his chest and listened to his heart beat.
If only you could you would have gone another round, this time you on top and in control as you usually would, but you were too tired to even think about this.
„Next time I'm in charge”
You murmured into his chest, earning a quiet, surprised gasp. He didn’t question your words though, he just enjoyed the fact you wanted there to be a next time.
The rest of the night you’ve spent in each others’ embraces, whispering sweet nothings and drawing patterns on each other’s bodies until you fell asleep.
✧༺♥༻✧
Sun peaked from between the black, floor length curtains into the dark room, reaching his skin and burning his eyes.
The man grumbled a little before finally waking up from the deep sleep. Fernando sat up on the bed and rubbed his eyes then looked around the room.
„Where the hell am I?...”
He questioned confused. He didn’t bother to check his surroundings the night before and now he wondered if he didn’t get abducted.
The walls of your bedroom were burgundy red with black stripes, a black chandelier hanged from the ceiling as well as black canopy above the bed.
The bed was huge, in the same colors as the walls and everything else in the room. It felt like straight out of vampire novels.
Quickly putting on his clothes, he almost tripped and fell down the stairs, his bum actually hitting the last step at the very bottom - as his head was still heavy - made the people gathered in the kitchen check what was going on.
„Mama! Dieser Wichser ist endlich aufgewacht!“ (Mom! That motherfucker has finally woke up!)
„Klaus! Pass auf was du sagst!” (Klaus! Watch your mouth!)
Soon Nando felt the familiar cold hands grip his arm and help get up.
„Are you okay?
The woman asked, her hands soothing his cheeks worriedly. He leaned into her touch and noddded with lidded eyes.
„Oh mi amor, you scared me”
She continued while leading him to the kitchen and sat him down by the table.
„Here, this will wake you up”
A cup of dark liquid and a pill appeared in front of him, he figured it was coffe and hangover pills. A single sip helped him regain his mind.
The first face he met after fully opening his eyes was of a small kid’s, brightly smiling at him. The boy waved his hand enthusiastically when he noticed Fernando’s soft smile.
The man had to quickly take the pill before the boy could reach it then ruffled his hair gently, earning a giggle and a warm look from his mother.
„Good morning~”
You purred running your hand through the spaniard’s hair while his arm wrapped round your waist pulling you close.
„Buenos dias, cariño”
(Good morning)
He kissed your hand then his head snapped to your older son who let out a sound of disgust.
The boy looked nothing like you aside the fact that he was a giant as well. He had blonde locks covering his forehead, green hooded eyes and tanned skin. He could not believe he was your son.
The younger one, on the other hand, was more similar to you – with dark hair and eyes, only with a tanned skin like Klaus.
„Those are my sons – Klaus and little Benny”
You explained while giving Fernando a plate full of food.
„They just came back from my brother”
You quickly added, to dispel his thoughts they could hear you two the previosu night. The man sighed relieved and started to eat, from time to time looking at your sons and earning death stares from Klaus.
He didn’t mind you had kids, but started to worry he was just a one night stand before your husband comes back.
Although if that was the case you wouldn’t let him sleep as long as he wanted, feed him and let him meet your children. Nando had no idea what to think anymore, he didn’t want your ‘realtionship’ to end after one night.
Soon a doorbell disturbed his thoughts. A doorbell that was about to start chaos. You left the boys alone to open it and you didn’t manage to say anything before Lando and Carlos burst in.
“Fernando! Where the hell are ya?!”
He could hear their scared voices from the kitchen and chuckled a little. They run into the kitchen after you instrcuted them and sighed.
“God you’re alright! Knew we shouldn’t have left you alone. No offense Y/N. Your manager is going to kill ALL THREE OF US if you won’t be at the track in an hour! He’s been calling you all day but you left your phone in the club!”
Lando blurted out on one breath while Carlos picked the spaniard up and proceeded to push him out of the building. You’ve managed to catch them before they got inside their car and gave Fernando your business card along with a chaste kiss.
“Call me!”
You waved your hand goodbye as you watched them drive away, standing in front of your black castle in nothing more than your long, pitch black robe with feathers and full of hope that he would call.
#smut#18+ content#18+ fanfic#18+ only#f1 fanfiction#f1#f1 x reader#f1 x female reader#fem reader#older reader#formula 1#formula one#formula one fanfiction#fanfiction#fernando alonso fluff#fernando alonso#fernando alonso x reader#fernando alonso smut#halloween#halloween party#halloween fic#halloween fanfic#halloween fanfiction#party
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Betty baby
how about a little one shot with Eddie and reader hooking up in readers car after a date 🥵
Ziggy my love, anything for you.
I did a lil twist on your request. I've been gone for a bit and this was the first thing I wrote when I got home yesterday, thank you for the much needed inspiration 🥹
Waste Away With Me
Eddie x older!fem!Reader
18+ONLY, smut, age gap, Eddie is in his early 20's and reader is in her early 30's, mutual pining, adoring!eddie, secret crush, friends to lovers, car sex, fingering, mutual masturbation, finger sucking, reader wears a skirt, well-timed but unfortunate Jimmy Buffet lyrics, reader is lonely and thinks she'll never find love. wc: 3.5k
--------
Eddie hadn’t meant to wait up for you to get back from a date with another guy like some lovesick dork, but it happened anyway.
He was sitting on the couch in his trailer when he saw the headlights sift through the curtains and heard the gravel crunch under the wheels of your approach, settling in between your trailer and his.
He tapped his cigarette into the full ashtray and looked at the clock; his heart fluttered in his chest, grateful that you were back earlier than expected. Either the movie part of the dinner date had been skipped, or there had been little to no hanky-panky afterwards, and this fed into the delusion that he still had a chance with you.
He waited impatiently to hear the clank of the heavy, metal door to your Buick LeSabre open and slam shut, hoping to hell you’d hadn’t brought this new guy home with you. He could handle the thought of you going on a date with someone—barely—-but the possibility of you inviting someone back to your bed, or you getting serious about some other dude was too gut wrenching to bear.
Don, your date’s name was Don, and when you’d told Eddie that he’d asked you out, Eddie wanted to show up at the fabrication shop where he found out Don worked and set his hair on fire.
If the guy even had hair.
You were maybe a decade older than Eddie, and Don was pushing 40, so maybe he was balding and hopefully you preferred long, shaggy hair and bangs that desperately needed a trim.
What if Don made you laugh? The thought made Eddie scowl. What if those adorable lines around your mouth made their appearance and you snorted a little bit all because of stupid Don? Eddie shot to his feet and went to the window.
A good 10 minutes had passed, and he hadn’t heard you get out of your car, so he decided to take a peek through the side of the curtains. What if Don was in the car with you, what then? What if he was kissing you?
His stomach in knots, Eddie had to know, either way.
He experienced relief to find that you were, indeed, alone, but something else was wrong.
Your hands were covering your face and your shoulders bobbed. Your hands fell to your lap long enough for Eddie to see through the windshield that your mascara was running down your cheeks and your skin was wet with tears.
You fumbled with the single, pathetic, balled up tissue in your hands, as you sobbed. The sobbing subsided for a few sniffles before there was another hitch in your chest and a whimper made you bury your face in your palms again.
But then a knuckle tap on your window made you jump.
Bent forward, with his face level to yours, Eddie was at the passenger side door, holding his hand up in greeting, lips folded in over his teeth into a pensive line. As an answer to his silent ask, you moved your purse off the seat so that he could get in.
You inhaled the warm, familiar scent of his Old Spice, nicotine, and leather. There was an extra note of cologne on him that evening, as if he’d just sprayed something on before he came out.
He saw you struggling to wipe your nose with that threadbare Kleenex and handed over the handkerchief from his back pocket.
You held it out in front of you with pause, as if you were considering something.
“You can blow your nose on it, I don’t mind,” he said. “In fact, it would be an honor.”
That elicited a snort-chuckle from you, and you did not blow your nose with it, but you did wipe snot off your lips and chin with a sad snarf.
The inside of the car was dark, but for the yellow glow from the radio as Hold Me Now by the Thompson Twins played. Eddie saw the familiar end of a cassette tape sticking out of the stereo as if it had just been ejected.
“So, the mixtape I made for you was that bad, huh? Too many ballads?” As if to suggest that his horrible taste was what made you bawl your eyes out.
You let your head fall back against the seat. “No, I love it,” you said, dry throat making your voice crack. “It’s the only thing I’ve been listening to all week.”
“Really?” He said it too fast, he was too excited. When he gave it to you, he said it was “no big deal” and he’d been making them for all of his friends, but that was a big fat lie. He’d spent weeks planning out which songs to add to it, and in what order they should go in, so that it all flowed and told a story.
A story about a next door neighbor with a serious crush.
You pushed the tape all the way in until it clicked and Send Me an Angel by Scorpions softly lit up the speakers.
One of Eddie’s favorite things about you was that you were normally just as chatty and weird as he was. A couple times a week, he’d come up on your porch for a beer, or go inside to share a joint, and the two of you would talk passionately for hours about some real oddball shit. You were excitable and goofy, just like him, and you’d recently confessed that you hadn’t felt this comfortable with someone in a very long time.
He overheard you telling one of your friends the other day that he was “like a brother” to you, and nothing could’ve smashed his heart or his hopes harder. Being referred to as a family member is sweet, but also suggests that you’ve entered strictly friendzone territory.
“Doooo you want to talk about it?” He stammered, fiddling with the zipper on his jacket. He’d be happy to just sit there and listen to music so you wouldn’t feel alone, if that is what you needed.
“Not really,” you said in a small voice. “I’m just never going on another date for the rest of my life, that’s all.”
Eddie sat up and turned his whole body towards you, leather jacket squeaking on the seat, and made a fist on his knee. “He didn’t…hurt you or anything, did he? If that Don guy said or did anything to make you upset I swear to god I will—”
“No, no, nothing like that,” you met Eddie’s gaze and were a bit taken aback at the intensity you found there. “He was just so…boring, and we had nothing in common, and I felt so alone.”
Eddie sat back and swallowed. A part of him wanted to kick up his heels and do a jig when you called Don boring, but the other part of him hurt to see you so sad.
You sniffed and wiped under your eyes with his handkerchief. “I’m the only one of my friends who’s still single, and I think I’ve finally come to terms with the fact that I’m going to waste away in this trailer park and die alone.”
Eddie cocked his head, adding the touch of a smirk to his lips. “We can waste away together, here in Margaritaville.”
“You did not just quote Jimmy Buffet.”
“Oh, yes. Yes, I did,” he bit his lip to hold back a smile. “Have you seen my lost shaker of salt, by chance?”
You stared down at your lap, indulging in a laugh or two before your expression turned somber again, forehead creasing. “Why does everything have to be so hard? I thought finding true love was supposed to be easy, or at least easier than this nightmare of a reality I’m living in.”
“This is easy. We make sense,” is what Eddie wanted to say, but he choked and adjusted his feet on the floorboard instead.
You groaned and put your head back again, closing your eyes. “I’ve been feeling so lonely lately, Eddie, like maybe I am the problem and I’m just unlovable.”
“Now that is crazy,” Eddie shifted closer, taking hold of your forearm to give it a squeeze. He searched your profile, eyes landing on your parted lips. “You’re so easy to love. I love—-”
My god, he really almost said it, out loud.
You turned your head and opened your eyes, waiting for him to finish.
“...this song,” he recovered, turning the volume up a single notch. “I love this song.”
It was Tangerine by Led Zeppelin.
You closed your eyes again, feeling another tear building at the rim of your lashes.
“But really,” he continued, shifting the volume down again. “I mean, I get it, “he huffed air out of his nose and moved his hands around as he talked. “Even when I’m with a bunch of people I still feel alone sometimes. Like I’m the only person in the world who feels the way I do.”
“Yeah,” you gave a big sigh. “Something like that.”
Another problem was that suddenly, almost overnight, you had developed feelings for your young, metalhead neighbor. You pushed them down as much as you could and forced yourself to go on this date with Don to try and distract yourself from having sexual thoughts about a guy that was ten years your junior. What would your friends think? A few of your friends were snobs, anyway, and expected you to marry a doctor, or at least an accountant; some stable man who could give you the picket fence dream.
But that was their dream, not yours.
Besides that, Eddie had plenty of love interests. You hadn’t seen him bring a date back to his trailer in months, but you’d been to one of his Corroded Coffin shows, and you saw the way the extremely cute college and high school girls looked at him.
Eddie wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. “I know I don’t have to tell you how beautiful and smart and amazing you are. I mean, I’m sure you already know that.”
“Do I?” You asked, earnestly. “Do I already know it?”
“Well,” his eyes shifted, not sure where to land. “You should, I mean, none of the women in this town could ever hold a candle to you.”
Yikes.
Speaking of candles, was he blowing it? The way things were going, it was only a matter of seconds before he admitted to jerking off to thoughts of you every time he got in the shower.
You were both facing each other with your temples on the headrests. “It means a lot to me,” you couldn’t meet his eyes, so you stared at his adam’s apple. “That you think I’m beautiful and amazing.”
“I should tell you more often, then,” Eddie said softly, his heart racing. “Because I mean it.”
You looked down at your lap and the way you were absently picking at the ends of his handkerchief. “I wish I’d met someone like you when I was your age.”
The statement confused him a bit and he squinted. “Someone…like me?”
“Oh, you know,” you cleared your throat. “Someone I have a lot in common with, someone who makes me laugh,” you trailed off. “Someone I’m really attracted to.”
Eddie froze.
No one moved or said anything for a full minute.
“You’re attracted to me?” His voice trembled.
“Isn’t it obvious?” You gave a sharp, self-deprecating laugh. “Sometimes I’m sure the entire trailer park knows, and they're all judging me.”
The revelation made a little squeaky sound escape his throat. “But you said I was like a brother to you?”
You gave a confused smile for a split second, wondering where he might’ve heard such a thing, and then recognition dawned. “Oh, well I told my friend Judy that because I talk about you so much, I didn’t want her to think that…that you and I were…or that I was…”
“That you and I were what?” Eddie’s ears were ringing, all kinds of hope bubbling in his chest.
You got quiet again, wondering how far you wanted to take this conversation.
“Listen,” Eddie shifted to look at you with flushed cheeks. “I might be reading all of these signals wrong, but I want to kiss you so bad right now, it’s fucking killing me–”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
And then you dove for each other and had a meeting of mouths that was all teeth and wrestling tongues. Your seatbelt jerked you back, and you pulled away from him only to unbuckle it and throw it from your lap with a metal thump.
You’d never experienced this before; it was less like being kissed and more like being devoured, all feverish sucks and nibbles and eager moans. He held your face in his hands as you began to climb up and over to him. “If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up,” he hushed against your lips.
The seats in your ‘68 Buick were spacious, and once your knees were straddled on either side of him, you cupped your hands around his throat and said, “touch me Eddie.”
Eddie’s hands stopped in the air, unsure of where to go, but then intuition had him put them on the bare skin of your thighs under your skirt and move them up your panty line. He brought a thumb down and passed it over the material, “you want me to touch you, like this?” As he said it, he found the top of your slit through your underwear and began pressing small circles there.
“Yesyesyes,” you pulled off of him just enough to meet his eyes. His cock twitched at the way you bucked your hips in his lap, eager for his touch.
“I love it when you look at me like that,” he breathed.
“Like what?” You slotted the side of your nose against his and brushed your lips together.
“Like I make you happy,” he punctuated it by dragging his thumb up and down in that concentrated area.
You threw your head back, exposing your throat for him to lick a stripe up, sucking some skin in softly to nibble.
You were fully grinding on him as you found his mouth again with yours. “I want…to make…you…happy…too,” you said between hot kisses.
His thumb smoothed down low enough to feel how much of your arousal had soaked through. “Honestly, sweetheart? I could die right now and be the happiest man alive.”
You could feel his cock grow thick and stiff in his denim as you rode him, and one of your hands went down there to fumble at the button and zipper on his jeans.
“I want to touch you,” your pussy actually rippled like a jellyfish climbing in the sea at the idea of having him inside of you. Once your thumb met with his leaky tip, you circled the head and Eddie groaned.
“Sit back for me,” he whispered. With his thumb still working your clit, you let your back rest on the glovebox and watched him pull his impressive length out. He kept his eyes on you, giving it a few short jerks while flicking his tongue out to wet his lips.
From that vantage, with your skirt up around your waist, he could see how damp the light purple of your panties were, and more milky liquid appeared at his tip. You pulled down the straps of your dress and released your breasts from the cups of your bra.
“Oh my godddd,” Eddie’s thumb worked faster on you, trying not to stroke his cock the way he wanted to because he was about to cum. “You’re so sexy, holy shit.”
You pushed off the dash and came closer, needing to be close to him. With your arms around his neck, Eddie’s fingers bypassed the cotton barrier and sank into your slick honey pot with a hiss and a curse. First one finger, and then two, and you reached down between the two of you to stroke him, making you both exchange moans of pleasure.
“Wait wait,” Eddie halted, continuing to thumb your spot. “I’m gonna cum like, right now.”
“That’s okay,” your hand stilled, but you bobbed up and down so that his fingers were fucking you.
“I can’t,” he gulped, breathlessly resting his forehead on yours. “Not before you.”
The thing about Eddie was that he could get hard again really fast for a second and third time, at least that’s how it was when he masturbated, but he wasn’t sure how to tell you that.
You shifted back against the glove box again, pulling your underwear to the side so that he could watch his fingers go in and out of you. You guided his hand out and brought his dripping fingers to your mouth to suck on them, loving the way his callouses felt on your tongue.
Eddie's eyes were locked on the action, muttering, “ohmygodohfuck.”
“Let’s do it together,” you breathed, biting your lip. You brought your own fingers to your slit and began the same circles Eddie had done, speeding them up. Eddie dipped his fingers inside of you again, scissoring them, picking up as much of your gift as he could before bringing them out in a mess to wet his cock with it. Your mouth fell open, watching his length glisten as he stroked it, never breaking eye contact with you.
His gaze dipped to your breasts briefly to watch you twist your hard nipple between thumb and forefinger, whimpering as your other hand moved faster. “Eddie..Eddie! See what you do to me?”
“Ahhhh,” Eddie held his thumb on his tip, right on the verge, and buried two fingers from his other hand inside you again. Your tight walls fluttered, clenching him, and the look on your face as you got close was too much for him to handle.
“This is—-oh fuck I’m cumming,” he gasped.
“Cum on me, cum all over me,” you begged, just in time for him to aim the joystick in your general direction, pumping hot white ropes onto your hand and cunt.
You watched him milking it as he twitched, and you rubbed his spend down your folds. You held his wrist to keep his fingers inside of you, and then your eyes were rolling back as your release exploded.
In the aftermath, the two of you took a minute to catch your breath. There was cum and saliva everywhere and neither one of you seemed bothered.
“This is the best part,” Eddie mumbled, taking his fingers out to suck the result of your orgasm off of them.
“Shit,” you lifted your head and looked around with a giggle. “We fogged all the windows up.”
“Good,” he clutched your waist to shift you and pull you closer. “That way no one can see us.”
Your car was blocked between the two trailers, but being seen by someone out walking their dog at night was always a risk. A risk that did not seem to have an ounce of importance at the moment.
You put your forehead to his and smoothed your thumbs over his cheeks, rocking so that the drips from your cookie box landed on his exposed length. “What I meant to say earlier is that I have this big, stupid crush on you, Eddie Munson.”
Eddie adjusted your skirt so that you were properly covered, and pulled you flush to him so that no one could get a cheap look at his girl's gorgeous tits.
His girl.
He wasn’t sure if you knew it yet, but you had his heart, and you could do whatever you wanted with it.
You ducked your head down to rest it on his shoulder and his hand cupped the back of your neck. “I’ve been wanting to ask if I could maybe take you on a date sometime?”
He was serious, but the timing made you laugh.
Eddie always made you laugh.
“I’m never going on another date ever again, remember?” The side of your mouth pressed into his shoulder and you wiggled closer to him. A part of you wondered if you were squishing him, like maybe his legs were asleep, but his hold on you was unrelenting.
“Oh damn, that’s right,” his other hand rubbed up and down your back. “I missed my window of opportunity thanks to Don.”
“I guess we’re stuck with more of whatever this was,” you murmured.
“Poor us,” Eddie smirked. “We might have to do more of this again in a few minutes.”
“If we have to.”
“Hey,” he nudged you so that you lifted up to meet his dark, searching eyes. “Kiss me if you’re mine.”
You were both smiling as your lips met, and it wasn’t long before you led him by his hand into your trailer while he hummed the chorus to Margaritaville.
#Eddie Munson fic#Eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#Eddie Munson x older!reader#older reader#Eddie Munson smut#Eddie Munson crush#Eddie Munson
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Totally forgot to post this yesterday 😭
Merry Christmas @amisalami03 🎄💕
Yandere Baki Short Stories: Baby It’s Cold Outside
Yandere Baki Hanma x Older Fighter AFAB Reader
Whoosh! The wind furiously covered the city in a white blanket of thick snow. A certain pair nearly trapped inside from the blizzard outside the door. An older woman attempted to comfort Baki, a man she saw as a little brother as he vented about his break up with his childhood sweetheart. The poor woman unaware that he saw her as a woman rather than a sister.
Muscular arms wrapped around (your name)’s waist and held her like a lifeline. The man’s body rocked with a sob. (your name) ran her fingers through his crimson hair to try to soothe him. She softly shushed him and comforted him.
“It’s okay, Baki.” (Your name) whispered while she calmly stroked his head. The younger man clung to her as he buried his face between her chest. “What did you expect?”
“I didn’t think Kozue would actually leave me! I just thought we’d be together forever…” Baki sniffled which made (your name) sigh. “She said that we never spend time together and that… that I see you more than her.”
“Baki, you’re a young man in your early twenties hanging out with a woman in her mid thirties, I’d be upset if I was your little girlfriend too.” (Your name) scolded the young man who only held her tighter. He was so ignorant to people’s emotions, but she knew she couldn’t blame him. Baki never had parents to teach him empathy and about basic decency… perhaps that was why he latched himself to her? “Baki, are you truly upset about the breakup? Is there a lingering feeling for Kozue or are you experiencing a different emotion?”
“I just felt so upset earlier but when I’m in your arms… everything is better.” Baki contentedly sighed into the fighter’s plump chest. (Your name) was so warm and soft… “I feel so safe with you.”
(Your name) clicked her tongue and went to sit up but Baki yanked her back down on her leather couch with him. “Baki, I think you should try to make it up with Kozue- hey!”
(Your name) smacked the young man in the head when he suddenly squeezed her chest, the red head stumbled back a bit in shock. A furious blush on his cheeks as he turned to look away in shame.
“I’m sorry, I just think I figured out what I’m feeling.” Baki whispered, his eyes tender. He sat up on his knees and bowed his head to (your name) in apology. “I like you. I like you a lot, (your name).”
(Your name) pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance. She glanced Baki over in distaste. “You’re confusing a platonic relationship for more because you’re searching for comfort. You won’t find that in this old woman’s arms.”
“I could make you happy!” Baki exclaimed with a frantic look on his pretty face. “We could work something out-“
“I think you should go-“
“But it’s cold outside!” Baki whined. He gave her the biggest puppy eyes he could. “Can’t you let me stay?”
(Your name) sighed when she saw how much snow was outside. There were practically shut in at this point and she really didn’t want Baki to get sick… he’d try to guilt her into taking care of him. So perhaps she should let him spend the night?
“Fine but you’re taking the guest room.”
“Thank you!” Baki pulled her into another hug, the young man buried his face between her chest with a content sigh. “Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas, Baki.”
.
.
.
When (your name) finally fell asleep, she failed to realize she didn’t lock the door so Baki snuck in. The redhead quickly snuggled beside her with a happy smile.
He was so happy to finally have her in his embrace… especially now that it was cold outside.
#baki the grappler#baki hanma#baki son of ogre#baki x reader#baki the grappler x reader#yandere baki#yandere#yandere imagine#yandere fic#female reader#yandere baki x reader#baki x y/n#baki x you#older reader#afab reader#aged up characters#aged up au
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I imagine the older reader who is like olenna tyrell to be really protective of luke and jace
She makes threats to vaemond about him being against their claim like: i could kill you and no one would even find whats left of you
Or poison some people and them being like: hey what happend to the servent?
Reader: *kisses their cheeks* dont worry yourselfs about all of that my angels
That means an older reader has been present since Jaehaery’s time, possibly adopted by him and Alysanne. She has gone through years of hardship, literally witnessing the loss of her family one by one, and this no doubt molded her into this person marked by a fierce protectiveness that of course extends to Rhaenyra’s children.
With her around, you don’t need Viserys’ already decaying corpse walking down the throne; she’ll do with it. The second Vaemond starts making claims, she’ll threaten to cut out his tongue. Hell, with her around, Rhaenyra won’t have to struggle much with her inheritance to the throne. The reader plays an active role in King’s landing politics, probably hardly missing any council meetings that not even the Green Council can make a move without her intercepting their plans.
Side note- she absolutely also shares a fondness for Viserys and Daemon, not only are they the children of the people she loved, but she probably took a hand in raising them. And just imagining the love she has for Rhaenyra seeing how much she reminds her of Alyssa and Aemma, I’m gonna go cry now.
#older reader#platonic yandere#yandere hotd#yandere concept#yandere house of the dragon#yandere asoiaf
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Never again! [C.G]
Younger Carl Gallagher x Older Reader/ Fiona's Friend
Requested // Request Rules
"Me againnnnnn ok what about a Carl Gallagher x older! Reader? Where reader is Fiona or lips friend and carl has a "innocent" crush on the reader?"
A/n - I kind of felt bad for little Carl in this, lol. Sorry for the fact that it's a small fic, though. Hope you enjoy!
Submitted by @nikkicloudie
Warning! humiliation, embarrassment
Word count: 718
Shameless Masterlist
Fandom Masterlists
/"Talking"//Thinking//Muttering-Whispering/
***Narrator's Pov***
"FIONA, WHAT THE HE*L DID YOU DO TO MY SHIRT!" Carl screamed from the washing room. He was holding his -now- tiny shirt in the air. As he ran to find her so she could explain. However, he halted the moment he saw you with her...
"Y/- Y/n..." He muttered all shyly.
"Hey, Carl. Good to see you again." You said as you played with his hair. "How's my favorite little Gallagher doin-?"
"Puff- Favorite?" Fiona interrupted. "Since when was he your favorite?"
You continued your little conversation in a different room.
"F-favorite." Carl looked astonished. "Little?!" Then aggravated.
Time skip!~
You and Fiona were sitting at the dining table talking about random things whilst Carl was trying not to get caught eavesdropping.
"Yo."
"Ugh!" Carl jumped out of his hiding spot- aka behind the edge of the doorframe.
"Why are you hiding?" Asked Lip as he took another sip of his coffee.
"Hiding? I'm not hiding you're hiding." Carl says as he followed Lip into the kitchen.
Fiona gave Lip a questioning brow as he shrugged his shoulders. Then he left. Fiona just smirked as she took a sip of her mug.
Time Skip!~
***Fiona's Pov***
It was now past noon. Fiona and Y/n were planning on going out for the evening; however, something halted their plans.
"Uhh... Fiona?" Y/n looked out the window with a confused expression on her face. "Why is Carl doing that-? Wait- is that my clothes?!" She took a closer look.
"Huh?" Fiona moved the curtains to see what Y/n was going on about. Carl was wearing Frank's suit which was obviously too big on him, and he was kneeling down to a pile of rocks that strangely had Y/n's missing cloths on.
"H-How did he get my clothes?"
"Is that- did he use my MAKEUP KIT ON THAT THING!" Fiona said furiously. As she was about to march out there, Y/n stopped her.
"W-wait!" She grabbed on to Fiona's shoulder. "Look... What is he doing?"
"Oh, my god..." Fiona covered her mouth with her hand. Trying to hold in a giggle.
I had a feeling he liked Y/n, but this is just too much... She thought as she held in a laugh.
I can't believe he's doing this...
Carl was kneeling on a pile of rocks outside in their backyard. The pile of rocks was wearing Y/n's dress that Fiona once borrowed. It had horribly drawn makeup on it that could only be from Fiona's makeup kit.
"Is... he holding flowers?" Y/n asked as she covered her mouth trying not to giggle.
Fiona took out her phone and started recording, trying so hard not to laugh.
"Wait? What is he saying?!" Y/n questioned.
"Shhh-shshsh." Fiona shushed her as she wanted to try and capture every detail.
"Wait... Oh god, no... is that a ring?" She asked.
"Wait what." Fiona stopped recording and she stopped laughing too as she looked out the window closer to try to get a better view.
"Oh, he*l no! Is that my wedding ring?!" Fiona yelled as she quickly walked outside.
"W-wait!" Y/n said, trying to catch up. "You were married?!" She said in absolute surprise.
"Not exactly-"
"Fiona, Y/n?!" Carl tried to cover up everything that he was doing. "Wha-What are you two doing here? I thought you said you'd be going somewhere...?"
Carl was clearly extremely embarrassed and completely uncomfortable.
"Carl, it's one thing to have a crush on someone but stealing their things is freaky!" Fiona yelled as she grabbed her ring back. Then she walked away. Leaving an awkward moment between you and Carl.
"Uhh... um. I'm really flattered, but you're just too young." Y/n said as she grabbed her dress.
"Y/N! Are you coming!?" Fiona yelled from across the backyard.
"Yeah! S-Sorry, Carl."
Thus Y/n and Fiona left Carl feeling all sorts of emotions- embarrassment, anger, and heartbreak. As he ran to his room, trying not to trip from his father's suit. He prayed that Y/n would choose to just forget about this, but he knew Fiona won't even let him live this down...
But at least the rest of his siblings don't know about it... at least not yet.
#shameless#young carl gallagher#carl gallagher#carl gallagher x reader#carl gallagher x older reader#older reader#fiona gallagher#crush#drabble#requested#request#fanfiction#fanfic#shameless fans
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The Moon and Sun (Big Sib Reader x Gon/Killua)
Ch 16: Not Myself
Synopsis: Y/n tries to make today the best it can possibly be…Even if that means pretending to be okay with it. Meanwhile, the boys encounter a very familiar chimera ant. But what's that???? Oh no! 😱😱😱 Could it be???? Childhood trauma 🫣
Silence.
It was quiet when Gon returned to the small home. Too quiet for his liking. He expected to hear you and Killua talking. To come back to your usual banter before you went on your date with Palm. But there was nothing from either of you.
He walked in further. A faint mumbling from your room at last reaching his ears. Maybe the two of you were in there? However it didn't seem likely as he approached your door. He couldn't sense Killua's presence inside with you. Then all at once you'd gone quiet.
Like you just now realized he was here.
Gon was by no means an idiot. Sure he had his moments, but that didn’t make him completely oblivious. Something had happened. Something had been happening judging by the way Killua was distancing himself from you and Gon. Never saying much anymore. Instead, observing from afar.
And now something was happening with you. As if your muttering hadn't already been an indication.
He gave a few knocks on your door before calling your name.
“Y/n!”
He could hear you let out a sigh before responding.
“You can come in.”
You were sitting on your bed when he walked in. The room being much neater than Palm had left it. But the room wasn't the only thing that was different. Somehow, you seemed less drained. Getting up and taking your clothes with a certain vigor that wasn't there before.
Gon could tell immediately that something was off with you. You'd been dreading going on this date all morning, and now you seemed enthusiastic about it. Moving about with energy he'd never seen you have before.
“You were quick, you know that?” You said, giving him a pat to the head that was almost robotic. Not something you'd done out of affection like earlier, but because you simply had to.
Why were you treating him like that? Like he really was a little kid. The gentle inflection in your voice making him worry. The best way to describe it was a forced cheeriness. Except he had trouble telling if it really was forced.
Then you'd flashed him a smile, but it wasn't yours. It felt fake. Practiced. Artificial from how perfect it looked. How wide and toothy it was. A small noticeable gap in the middle. Had that always been there?
Your smiles, your real ones were always crooked. Almost to the point of being cruel. And they were small. Never stretching out across your entire face.
But this one looked charismatic. Devoid of the usual tiredness you held. To someone who didn't know you, it would feel welcoming. Charming. But to someone like Gon who'd spent the better half of a year with you, it was anything but. Like a switch had flipped.
“Thank you so much, munchkin.” And now that he was hearing it again, your tone…. It was boisterous.
This was not you.
It couldn't be.
You who was always tired, always snarky, always comforting…Were now upbeat and detached. What had happened in the 30 minute span he'd been gone?
“You're acting off.” He voiced his concerns at last. But instead of reassuring him, you just brushed it off like nothing.
“Am I? I feel fine.”
A brief squeeze to his shoulder before you spoke again.
“Don't stress yourself out over nothing, okay?”
“Are you sure you're fine?” He didn't believe you for a second.
You weren't fine yesterday when you came home. You were on edge. More irritable than usual with Palm’s presence. And now you were acting like this. This was not nothing. Maybe the stress from the Chimera Ants had finally broken you? Maybe it was something else?
Maybe it was someone else?
“Never better. Now give me a few minutes to change and we'll be on our way.” Again came that smile as you ushered him out. The one that was the complete opposite of yours.
You'd closed the door shut once he was out. It was like you were hiding from him. Scared to be around for more than a few minutes. And before he could try to figure out what it meant, he was face to face with Killua.
“Oh, you're back.” His voice coming out scratchy.
Then there were his eyes, puffy and slightly bloodshot. He'd been crying. Gon wanted to question him. Ask him what was wrong. But he had a feeling it wasn't the right time. You were leaving in 10 minutes. If he asked now, Killua would probably shut down at an interruption. And then he'd refuse for it to be brought up again.
He'd wait until you left to get to the bottom of this. But he knew, he was certain he knew what the reason was.
Something had happened between the two of you.
And a fight was the most likely answer.
—-------------------
You weren't used to this anymore. Being so smiley and upbeat just because. Acting like you had it all figured out. And maybe you did when you were 7. There'd only ever been one goal at the time. One purpose. But you also had a home. People to connect with.
Maybe that was why you were so damn happy.
You didn't have to worry about looking over your shoulder. You didn't have to worry about food. You didn't have to worry about taking care of others. All you had to do was make the head of your clan happy. Appease him in exchange for everything else.
But now you had nothing. You weren't wanted anymore. Maybe you never really were. Your life for the past twenty something years revolved around your usefulness. What you could offer others in exchange for normalcy. And the revelation had pushed you past your limit.
It left you feeling numb. You simply didn't care anymore. Whatever happened to you after this, it didn't matter. The brief concern from Gon didn't matter. The regret littering Killua's aura didn't matter.
They wouldn't have to ‘worry’ about you ever again. So you plastered on a smile you'd long overgrown. A tone that was honeyed and eccentric. Movements that weren't slowed with exhaustion.
It felt like you were disassociating with every step you took. The person you were trying to portray had died 13 years ago with their sister. All that was left now was a husk.
A coward, a disgrace, a burden.
Something so pitiful and useless, yet it longed for a reason to keep going. A life worth living with people worth living for. And for a moment, it had that. For a brief moment, you had that.
You were supposed to enjoy today. Make it worth it before you sought out ‘Father.’ But you were just floating by. Living because you had to. Treating it more like a chore than one last hurrah.
Tired. You were so unbelievably tired. You longed for rest. And if it happened to be permanent, then that wouldn't be so bad.
You shouldn't think like that. No, you had to get through today first.
The boys had wanted to see you off. Or well, Gon had wanted to see you off and Killua followed him. The boy in green seemingly oblivious to the other’s melancholy state. Had Killua not told him about the fight?
A small part of you wanted to know why. But you reminded yourself it wasn't your concern. Not anymore. Whatever they chose to do next, it was no longer your responsibility.
A call of your name snapped you from your thoughts.
“Over here!” The voice sounded again.
You turned your head and saw what had to be the prettiest woman you've ever seen. Long brown hair with amethyst colored eyes. A black and pale-yellow dress with stockings to match. She waited for your response with a bashful expression.
“Huh? I'm sorry, who are…” the words dying on your tongue as the realization came.
No way.
No fricken way!
But your eyes were never wrong.
The woman in front of you was none other than Palm. They’re auras being an exact match. The only difference was that it was less intense than before.
You could feel your cheeks warm as she came closer. The heat rising to your ears at the small laugh she gave. This was really her? You were by no means vain, or at least you tried not to be. But you couldn't help getting flustered by the beautiful woman in front of you. Your facade momentarily slipping away.
“P-Palm?” You stuttered. Still unbelieving that she was the one in front of you. You could sense the discomfort steadily rise from her aura.
“Do I look strange to you?” She seemed to be second guessing herself.
It took you all but a second to gather your thoughts. Your radiant front returning.
“Strange? Not at all. If I'm being honest, you're absolutely breathtaking. My heart can't stop beating.”
But it truly did beat for someone else entirely.
“Oh no, please stop it. You're being far too loud! It's just so embarrassing!” Palm squealed, hiding behind her hands.
You gently coaxed them away from her face. Offering a smile that felt a little more genuine.
“Hey, don't hide away from me. I'm supposed to be your date, remember? And you're not the only one who's all dressed up.”
Your cooing tone making butterflies erupt in her stomach. For the first time that day, she took a real good look at you. You'd been dressed a little more formal than she was. Wearing a nice button up with a pair of black slacks. Her previous worry replaced by a feeling of fondness at your effort. Then you'd extended your arm forward, offering a small bouquet of roses.
“These are for you, by the way.” You said. And her heart melted right then and there.
“Ooh, you're being too sweet!”
The interaction being observed by both boys with scrutiny. It looked like you and Palm were going to get along just fine. And it was bittersweet for the small assassin, who didn't expect you to be so radiant after your fight.
A part of him expected to see you upset. You sure as hell sounded like it earlier. But another told him that this was probably for the best. He'd hurt you enough this morning. Said things he could never take back. And now it was time to let you go. Who was he to stand in your way after what he'd done?
But the boy in green had a different perspective.
He wanted to be happy for you. He wanted to feel relieved that you and Palm would hit it off. But it wasn't how things were supposed to be. You and Kite liked each other.
You and him were supposed to end up together, right?
It'd taken him and Killua a while to get used to the idea, but Kite was someone who'd earned both of their trusts. Who'd earned their respect. And the way he'd stepped up when you were at your lowest, it meant something.
It showed that he really did care about you, and that you were finally comfortable enough to let down your guard.
You two just fit together in a way that felt too special for words.
But the way you looked at Palm said otherwise. Your eyes so bright with a smile so big. You looked more at ease than you had with Kite.
Then again, you hadn't been acting like yourself today.
Gon wasn't selfish enough to believe just because you and Kite had liked each other, you couldn't find anybody else. That you couldn't move on.
But you and Palm didn't fit quite right together.
He and Killua didn't know her. They didn't trust her or know anything about her intentions. In fact, he'd almost been the one forced on this date. She'd also threatened the both of them several times. He didn't feel comfortable with you going out with somebody like that.
When Kite had put up with so much to keep them safe.
He didn't like the thought of leaving you by yourself with her, but you were always careful. And he needed to find out what was going on with you and Killua. So he let you go, reminding himself that this was just one date. This was a favor, and you wouldn't be going on another one with her.
“We'll leave you to it. Have fun Y/n!” He encouraged before tugging Killua away to talk. Palm leading you away in the other direction.
He was immediately met with resistance from the small assassin. Killua pulling back and trying to turn his head to see you. Watching almost frantically as your figure shrunk smaller and smaller out of sight.
“We can just let Palm drag them away! You know Y/n doesn't fight. We need to keep an eye on them just in case.” He argued. Trying to justify following you around.
Grasping at straws because if you were being serious this morning, it'd be the last time he ever saw you. The last time they ever got to see you happy.
‘You can't even fight anyways. You'd just continue to be a burden.’ The memory of what he said hitting him like a truck.
You weren't a burden. He wasn't doing this because you were. He just wanted to make sure your date went perfectly, so he could let you go with the knowledge that today had been your best.
“They're getting away. We have to-” but Gon stopped him before he could finish.
“Why were you crying earlier?”
The question catching him completely off guard. His eyes widening as he tried to come up with something to say.
“What? Crying? Maybe you were just seeing things.” It was a very flimsy excuse even Killua didn't buy.
“Killua, you can't lie to me. We've been best friends for over a year. I don't need you to tell me you're upset to know.” And in Gon's eyes was an unshakable resolve.
One that was saying, ‘it’ll be okay.’ That it was okay to trust him. But Killua was still too afraid to tell him everything. He wouldn't look at him with that same reassurance if he did.
“What happened while I was gone?” Gon asked.
Killua shook his head. His eyes brimming with a familiar wetness from this morning.
“I can't say…. You'll hate me.”
“I could never hate you. I promise.” Gon assured. Wrapping his arm around him in a side hug. Remembering what you said about promises and taking it with stride.
“You mean it? You won't leave if I tell you?” Because if you left today and Gon followed, he'd have nothing. All because he'd blamed you for everything.
“I swear.”
He took a deep breath before finally explaining everything.
“...Me and Y/n got into a fight this morning. And-and I told them I never wanted to see them again.” But he'd said a little more than that. Worse than that.
‘I hate you.’
“I didn't mean it. But just look at them. They look so happy. Like it's a relief to never see us again.” You were happier without them.
“I messed up….And I don't think I can fix it this time.” He admitted. Leaning into Gon and finally crying. Letting go of everything he'd kept bottled up today.
“What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to say when this is the happiest I've ever seen them?”
“You say you're sorry.” Gon said, as if it was a matter of fact.
“What?”
“You apologize to Y/n. I won't argue that they seem happy, but something about it feels forced. Like they're pretending. So maybe they feel just as upset as you do. Maybe you’ve been too lost in your thoughts to not notice it. But nothing will get better unless you two talk about it. You know that right?”
No, he was wrong about that. Things would get better for Gon if he apologized. But for Killua, he'd already made his bed. When the month was over, he'd be gone. Bisky’s words reminding him that he was only burdening Gon by staying. And that was why he was in this mess now. Blaming you for that. He'd made it your fault.
“It won't fix anything.” He said at last. He couldn't take back anything he'd said. He couldn't possibly make you love him again with everything he said and accused you of.
But Gon's persistence would win in the end. And although he didn't know it yet, it would be something Killua was eternally grateful for.
“Just try. For me, try.” When it came to Gon, he'd do just about anything.
“Okay. I'll try.”
—------------
How long had it been already? Maybe four hours. Were dates usually supposed to be this long? Were you supposed to be out the entire day? You didn't know, or rather you didn't care to ask.
If your date lasted a little longer, then that wouldn't be such a bad thing. However, you were more drained than usual. Using so much energy to look your absolute best. Expending yourself beyond the usual limit despite your tired mind’s protest.
But so far, nobody except you knew the depths of your physical strain. You were always good at hiding how you really felt. Being taught emotions were a weakness from your former clan. Pitty, fear, burnout, and the like. All of it wasn't needed, with the exception of your determination to persevere.
You were currently at a restaurant with Palm. Nodding along enthusiastically as she told a story about her and Knov -her mentor. You could see her aura swell with unwavering affection when she spoke about him. There was respect there, yes, but it was mostly love. Infatuation probably fit a little better.
And it had you thinking about why she was on a date with you when she seemed to love him so much. Then again, she talked about him like he was a light who shouldn't be dimmed by someone like her. Like he was too perfect to even approach.
Maybe it humanized her a little bit. Letting you see her as a person with feelings rather than an unstable psycho. Because, despite your differences, you could understand her sentiment. Her reasoning with Knov.
And why, you may ask?
Because it felt similar to yours with Kite. It wasn't quite the same, but it didn't have to be to relate to each other. You both felt the object of your affections couldn't possibly have feelings for people like you. It had led you to a realization though.
Fear of rejection didn't mean you shouldn't at least try.
You two should be here with completely different people. You shouldn't have to go on a date to feel wanted by somebody else. To seek validation from others. Although you'd been forced on this date, but that's besides the point.
You knew how you felt and she knew how she felt.
You two weren't right for each other. So you asked-
“If Knov gave you a chance, would you take it?”
You could feel her shock. Then her confusion. Then her embarrassment.
“I…I think I would. But he'd never, and anyways, I'm here with you. Let's just focus on each other for now, okay?”
You could tell she was trying to be nice. It let you know she at least cared on some level about your (non-existent) feelings. You didn't mind all that much. And it gave you an out of she tried to ask for a second date.
Oh right.
There'd be no second date anyways.
Which reminded you- the boys had been following you all day. You could never mistake their auras, no matter how faint they made them. They were seated three tables behind you. Holding up their menus every time you turned around so you wouldn't see them. Something that normally would have a real smile tugging on your lips.
But they didn't want you anymore.
They didn't need you anymore.
Why they couldn't just make this easier and leave you alone, you didn't know. Perhaps they wanted to make sure you actually went through with it. Or perhaps Gon wanted to make sure you were safe and Killua followed him. You still had no idea if he knew what happened or not. You had to remind yourself again that it was none of your business anymore.
So you continued on like nothing was happening. Giving Palm your full attention and then some. Anything to avoid the weight of your situation a little longer.
—------------------
A laugh. Then a compliment. And finally a smile. The way you were speaking with so much energy. It wasn't you. Gon was right, you felt off. Then again, all of it could've been genuine.
It looked like a weight was lifted from your shoulders from Killua's perspective. You were happy you were leaving. Unfazed from the argument.
And it hurt.
It hurt to see you were doing better than ever without them. The circles around your eyes ten times lighter. He'd never known you to be so talkative. So in your element around others.
Had they ruined your life by persuading you to stay? You were never like this with them. Had you always been this well off without the duo?
So full of life?
Would you even want an apology? Or would you say ‘Thank you, I can finally move on with my life!’ Treat the argument like a blessing in disguise?
He just might break if that was the case.
—--------------------------------
You'd been everywhere. A caffe, a park, an ice cream parlor. Practically going sightseeing in this city. Currently, you and Palm were walking through an aquarium. It was probably the first activity that completely wiped off your wide grin. Replacing your indifference with awe.
You'd heard about these things from one of your older peers. The way they described it didn't do justice to what you were seeing now. You'd always wanted to go, but between looking over your shoulder and being completely broke, you never had the opportunity.
Your eyes trailed after a sea turtle. Watching it zoom by and upwards. A small school of minnows following suit. You don't know when it happened, but your eyes had focused solely on the pane of glass that separated you from the marine life.
You were used to seeing everybody's emotions. To sensing their intensity. From searing anger to the brightest joy. But you'd never seen anything like this. Pure content from every creature swimming by. A wave of calm undisturbed by fear or malice.
You focused on people because you had to. You needed to know their intentions for your safety. You never bothered with animals. You weren't scared of them and they weren't dangerous unlike your own kin. You just never saw the purpose in doing it.
But now you did. It was a treat for your eyes and a blessing to your overworked senses. You don't remember the last time you felt this peaceful. If you were to be killed right now, you wouldn't have any complaints or regrets. You'd die in this blissful state without worries.
You barely registered the feeling of Palm resting her head on your shoulder.
“It's beautiful, isn't it?” She whispered.
And all of a sudden, you weren't pretending anymore.
“Yeah. This is always what I imagined I'd get to see with my eyes. The best in what the world has to offer. The beauty of life as a whole…But it's not all like this.”
Maybe if it was, you'd have lived a better life. You would've had a family filled with love and support. Kari would still be here with you.
“What do you mean?” Palm asked.
Despite the bittersweet feeling in your chest, the wide smile on your face became more genuine. Softer.
“Humor me for a bit,” you responded before making goggles with your hands. Summoning your nen into them to create your spyglass.
“This is how I see the world.”
You placed your hands over her eyes and watched as the shock settled in. She took in every detail with wonder. The complete serenity radiating off of each creature.
“You really see like this?”
“Most of the time. Some days I get overwhelmed and shut off my nen.” You explained before pulling your hands back, realizing you were a lot closer than you initially thought.
A bright hue overtaking her face, to which you responded by clearing your throat.
“We've still got a bunch of exhibits to visit. C'mon, after this I have a surprise for you. We won't get a chance to see it if we're late.”
You offered her your hand once again. And to your surprise, she took it without hesitation.
—---------------
It was nearing the end of the day by the time you reached your destination. The sun barely beginning its descent as the two of you sat in a small clearing by the edge of a lake. To your shock, the boys were still following you. You figured they would have left you alone by now. So you decided, for the sake of your sanity, to completely dim your senses until you couldn't feel them anymore.
You'd be vulnerable, but you supposed it didn't matter now that your day was drawing to a close. Whatever happened now, you'd be okay with. Come what may, you had no regrets. Or did you.
“Is there a specific reason you brought me here, or did you want to watch the sunset together?” Palm asked, her tone slightly teasing.
You returned it with another wide smile. Trying your best not to show the strain that came with it.
“Well you see, I wanted to be a hunter once.” The words were almost painful on your tongue. Something you hadn't said out loud since you were seven.
“I knew an old man who was probably the closest I got to having a father. He was a real stinker though. A grouchy old codger. Buuuut he told me that fire flies were one of the most fascinating creatures on earth. Do you know why?”
She shook her head no.
Funny how you could ramble on now that your life has lost meaning.
“For starters, they're bioluminescent. And I don't know about you, but any creature that can produce it's own light is cool in my book. Second, is the reason why they glow. Do you know that one?”
Again she shook her head. And before you had time to be embarrassed about what you were going to say, you went for it.
“They glow to attract mates.”
The sun had set perfectly over the horizon as if right on cue. Not even a second later had little specks of light descended down. Circling around the tall oak tree that was centered on the lake before a few made their way over.
“I guess you could say love is in the air.” Ew, since when did you become all cheesy?
You stood up, offering her your hand and pulling Palm to her feet.
“Are you ready for your surprise?”
—---------------------
“How much farther are they gonna go?” Killua complained.
The two of them had been following you all day and still your date wasn't over. From that small diner, to the aquarium, and now a forest. At this rate, he wouldn't get a chance to try and make things right until sundown. You and Palm couldn't possibly have that much to talk about. Nothing that should've kept you away the entire day.
“I don't know…But maybe it's time we stop following them around?” Gon suggested.
And once again Killua was grasping for straws.
“I…Not yet. The day's not over yet. Anything could happen. And don't you think it's strange Y/n hasn't sensed us yet?” It was probably his most valid point of the day.
It didn't make it any less true though. If you hadn't noticed them following you, then there was a lot more you wouldn't notice. Or worse, what if you'd shut off your nen? You'd be completely open to an attack.
“Maybe they did and just let us tag along? When have you ever known Y/n to let their guard down?” Gon countered.
He knew how much making up to you meant to Killua. He knew how badly he wanted to reconcile with you. But maybe it was best to wait for you to come back later, instead of chasing you around. You could take care of yourself perfectly fine, and deep down Killua knew that. Gon knew that he knew that. Which is why he couldn't let him keep making excuses to stay.
You two would get a chance to talk, of that he was sure.
“I don't know. But I just don't feel right leaving them.” The small assassin said at last.
“Look,” Gon directed towards the clearing you and Palm were in. The two of you sitting down and talking.
“They'll be okay.”
It was then that the weight of the situation hit him.
What was he doing? Following you around like a little kid. You deserved your privacy. He'd already ruined your piece of mind.
'Stay away from both of us. You'd only continue to be a burden.'
It was funny in a way. He'd called you a burden, yet here he was like some sorta stalker, waiting for the opportunity to approach you. Bringing Gon along because he just couldn't leave you alone. Unable to tell him the truth about what happened. Why saying sorry wouldn't fix everything.
So focused on staying in both of your lives that he somehow managed to push the both of you out.
He let out a sigh before speaking.
“You're right. Let's leave them be. I'll get a chance to talk to them later.” He gave a tired smile that mimicked yours.
It was then Gon pulled him into a real hug. Giving his back a small pat.
“It'll be okay. For now, let's go home.”
Home.
Except it wouldn't feel like one without you there.
The two of them started their trek back. Much slower and a little more tired than when they'd been following you. The sun just barely setting before Killua sensed it.
The unmistakable sensation of bloodlust. Which meant… A chimera ant was near. Maybe it had already passed through? Then again, the feeling was only growing stronger.
Damn.
Should they warn you?
No.
Palm would go berserk if they interrupted her date.
Damnit.
“Killua? Is something wrong?” Gon asked.
That's right. Gon wasn't able to sense the ant whatsoever. He wouldn't be able to fight either. Not without risking his life, and Killua promised himself that he would protect Gon no matter what.
“There's a Chimera Ant nearby. Damnit, and I can't let you wander off without knowing where it is.”
“I can defend myself. All the ants that came before weren't a problem. This one shouldn't be either.” Gon protested.
But Killua just couldn't risk it. So much had already gone wrong.
“Just let me protect you.” His fist clenching self-consciously.
“Let me do one thing right today.”
And for the first time in awhile, there was a strong resolve in his eyes. Burning with determination.
“Okay, but I won't run away. No matter what, we stick together.” Gon relented.
Killua gave a nod. Just in time for a figure to emerge from the underbrush. One they'd seen before, to their surprise.
It was the rabbit ant. The very same whose arm you'd broken back at the NGL. The one you'd shattered to protect Gon. And was that- Damn! A murky aura surrounded it. One that was practiced.
It had managed to learn nen.
“I thought I smelled humans,” It sneered.
The duo quickly took a stance, preparing for the ant to lunge. Instead, it only continued to taunt them.
“I remember you. That's right. You're those brats from before. It looks like your luck’s run out. Especially without that other human here to save you.”
Seems it also remembered you. Not good.
“You two are about to get a taste of hell you're never gonna forget.” It continued with a smirk. Pointing at the two of them.
“Of course, it won't last forever you know?”
Killua could feel Gon tensing from besides him. If he lost his cool now, they'd be in serious trouble. There was no telling what that thing’s ability was. They both had to be careful. Size the enemy up before making any rash decisions.
‘Run. If you don't know what the enemy is capable of, keep your distance.’
“Where is that other friend of yours?” Rammot looked around before staring them down with a malicious grin.
“Once you tell me their location, I promise I'll make it quick. It can't be that far. They are your protector, aren't they?”
Gon took a step forward, and Killua had to fight himself not to take one backwards.
“I'll just walk around making lots of noise and swinging your severed heads. And it won't be long before they come to find me. That's how humans are. Am I right?”
Wrong. You wouldn't come for them. Not anymore.
But those words were Gon's breaking point.
“You won't lay a finger on them.”
Killua had never seen him this aggressive. He was sure without a doubt Gon would have given his life right then and there to keep you safe. After what happened with Kite, it made sense he'd be more protective of you. More pressured to make sure the same never happened with you.
But this was not the way to do it. And whereas Killua was flawed with overanalyzing combat, Gon was flawed with being too impulsive. Letting his emotions get the better of him. So the small assassin quickly extended his arm in front before he could make a move.
“Don't. Trust me on this, you don't stand a chance right now. Not without your nen.” He warned.
And before Gon could respond, the ant made a dash forward.
“Let's just test that theory, shall we!”
—-------------------
You stood hand in hand with Palm. Guiding her to the edge of the lake. One foot on the surface of the water without disturbing it. And much to her shock, you didn't sink into the water. Then you took another step back, urging her forward.
“What are you-” She started.
“Trust me. I won't let you fall.” You assured.
Walking on water. Quite the trick if you do say so yourself. You'd used your nen to form a small circle under you. Almost like a little shield to keep you afloat. And as long as Palm stayed in that same radius, she'd be fine.
She gave you a hesitant look, inching towards you but not ready to take the full leap. You offered up another reassuring smile. Lightly brushing your thumbs over the back of her hands. A gesture that had her blushing.
“You promise you won't drop me?” She asked.
“Only a fool would drop a girl like you.” You responded with a teasing grin.
With that, she took her first step onto the lake. Staring back up in awe at you. Grabbing your forearm as you lead her deeper into the center. A flurry of fireflies surrounding you both.
You took that as a cue to use the rest of your nen. Conjuring up little instruments back on the shore. Two marionettes, one a jester and one a ballerina, began to play. A somber jazz melody filled the air causing Palm to look around.
“I thought some slow dancing would be a nice way to end the day.” You redirected. Guiding her arms to your shoulders as you placed yours on her waist. Swaying her softly to the music while she continued to look up at you flustered.
“This is…I've never experienced something so special before.” Palm said at last.
You could feel affection swell in her aura, and you really didn't know how to take it. You were flattered but…Nevermind. You just had to finish the day. Get through this part and make it memorable. And then, you'd get the quiet you desperately craved.
The music had swelled to a part you remembered. It had been an oldie. But regardless, it remained something from the better part of your childhood. One of Kari’s favorites too.
“Stars shining bright above you
Night breezes seem to whisper I love you.
Birds singing in the sycamore tree
Dream a little dream of me.”
So you treated it like one of your favorites too. Leading while you danced. Every turn, every spin, every dip was precise in a way that felt effortless. The sun vanishing beyond the horizon and soon replaced by stars. The fireflies illuminated the lake, creating something that mimicked a fairytale.
Beautiful and serene.
You wished you could've done more today. Enjoyed yourself more. God knows these would be the last memories you'd be creating. But you just weren't that person anymore. You'd changed. You would have liked to say for the better, but you were a fuck up everytime. Amounting to nothing no matter the outcome. You shouldn't have wasted the energy trying to keep up, but it's not like you needed it anymore.
You and Palm made your way back to the shore. All of your nen returning to you in a rush. Though you couldn't say you felt any better with it.
Your day was over.
“Thank you for everything,” Palm started.
And so too was the pathetic life you lived.
“I really enjoyed myself.” She looked up at you with rosy cheeks.
“Me too.” You expected it to end there. Preparing to leave when what she did next caught you off guard.
Palm had leaned forward with her lips slightly puckered. Your reaction was slow, but just before she reached you, you'd leaned back. Placing your hands on her shoulders to keep her at a distance. Your face scorching hot as your mind raced a thousand miles a second.
She wanted to kiss you. And maybe you should have let her. It would have made the night all the more magical, right? But this wasn't just any kiss. It would have been your first. And you wanted your first kiss to be with….
An image of a certain silver haired hunter flashed in your mind.
Your heart already belonged to someone else. Someone you weren't even sure was okay. Who you still had no idea about what happened to him. But you didn't mind. You'd wait forever if it meant there was a chance to see him again. Or you would have if your circumstances were different.
All you could do now was hope he'd turn out okay. Continue living his life to the fullest.
“I'm sorry. I'd really like to return your feelings, but I just can't. I…” I'm in love with a man who's probably dead. It didn't feel right to bring that up. Because saying it, meant you had to admit it to yourself. And you were the furthest thing ready from that.
“What? Why not?” You could feel her bloodlust start to spike. The feeling mixing with red hot anger.
So you brought up the only thing that could possibly get you off the hook.
“We're not right for each other, and you know that. You love someone else…and so do I. And that's okay. We had fun. We got to enjoy each other's company today. And that's okay, too. But just because today was great, that doesn't mean we're meant to be together.” Your words were cooing. Like you were explaining something to the boys.
Palm only stared at you in dead silence. Her anger retreating back.
“You told me about Knov earlier. It's clear he holds a very special place in your heart. Believe it or not, you hold one in his too. You're his only pupil. He practically lets you follow him around everywhere. And if he's willing to put up with you at your worst, that says something. Believe me, I would know a thing or two about that.”
Because Kite had done the same. From your temper to your breakdown, he'd stayed. Maybe he liked you back after all.
“Don't force yourself to be satisfied with somebody else, when you could be happy with him.”
You could feel her bloodlust simmer down until it fizzled out completely.
“...Do you really think…he likes me?” Her voice was shy, but it still had an edge to it. If you said something wrong, she'd snap.
And then it'd be back to square one.
“Yeah. Watch. He's gonna be happy to see you're okay. Now…Do you want me to walk you to your place?”
For the last time that night, you extended your hand. And for the last time, she took it. Her grip more assured and less timid.
—------------------
It was like Killua was stuck in time. Seeing the Chimera Ant get closer and closer with its fist raised. Its sights set on him. He willed his body to move. To dodge. Anything. But he stood paralyzed, preparing for the pain of a fist making contact with his stomach.
But it never came.
Gon had shoved him out of the way with a cry. Both of them toppling over each other and skidding a few feet.
‘Run.’
Killua froze once again at the sound of his brother's voice. He could see that Gon was talking, but he couldn't hear him. He couldn't hear the concern. ‘Killua, are you okay? You have to get up. He's coming back! Move!’
He felt his body get shoved once more, except this time, Gon hadn't moved with him. Rammot lifting up his hand and slapping him without any restraint. Its bloodlust aiding in keeping him down. Gon was unable to defend against it with his own aura.
He was completely defenseless.
And yet…He was still giving it his all.
Killua could only watch in horror as he was tossed to the side. The boy in green trying his best to get up before Rammot kicked his stomach, once again sending him flying before his back made harsh contact with a tree.
“GON!”
The ant turned around with a sadistic grin. Almost giddy at the small assassin's destress. Blue eyes wide with an oh so delicious fear.
“Perfect! That's more like it! That terrified expression! I love that one! Now I really feel like killing you! Haha!” It laughed out before lunging once again.
‘Run’
No he couldn't just leave Gon. He had to stay. He had to keep him safe. He had to keep both of you s-
Rammot plunged its fist into his ribcage. The force sending him back. If he hadn't been guarding with nen, his ribs would've been completely shattered. But he still couldn't find it in himself to get up. His entire being shaking with uncertainty.
‘Avoid battles you can't be sure you'll win.’
But he had to win. He had to.
“I'm going to crush you two into a bloody pulp.” Rammot threatened. His feet blurring at the corner of Killua's vision. One lifting up and preparing to smash his skull in.
Yet his fight with Gon wasn't over. The boy in green forcing himself up and giving the hardest kick he could to the back of Rammot's head. Following it up with a barrage of punches.
But thanks to the ant’s body armor and newly found nen, it hardly felt the impact. Instead turning around with a wide grin.
“Back for more?” It taunted, wasting no time punching Gon in the stomach once again. Watching as he coughed up blood before inevitably collapsing. Unable to fight through the pain any longer.
The ant picked up his head from the ground. Staring joyfully into Gon's disgusted expression.
“What was it you said? I won’t be laying a finger on that human? How about I break all your limbs and make you watch as I devour their flesh. I’ll even save the head for last so you can say your goodbyes before I kill you next. Or better yet, give them to Pitou to add to their collection like that other human.”
Through his blurry gaze, through the immense pain, through every ache in his body, Gon willed himself to speak.
“How dare you. Touch them… and I’ll make you suffer.”
A threat you’d used many times. But somehow it felt heavier coming from him. A promise with the intent to follow through. Here Gon was, giving his all to protect you in every sense of the way. Here he was defending Killua even though he was vulnerable.
A sun with light so bright, its warmth could reach anyone.
A sun, being dimmed by someone like him.
A moon who only thrived off of the light from the sun.
“Stop! You can do whatever you want to me, just let him go!” Killua pleaded.
He wished you were here to protect them. But it was his fault you were gone in the first place.
Rammot let go of Gon's head. His body hitting the ground with a ‘thud.’ The ant turned to face him with a tilt of its head.
“Is that so? In that case, you'll be the first to die!”
Damnit.
God damnit.
‘When your enemy is unknown…' Illumi’s voice came again.
‘Run away.’
Hit after hit, he couldn't move. Getting kicked around the grass like a toy. Rolling to a stop before getting kicked once more. It hurt, but he had to endure it. He couldn't just leave Gon. He couldn't run away like a coward.
‘Run.’
But every time he disregarded his brother’s warning, a searing pain coursed through his head. A stinging, throbbing pain. As if being stabbed directly in his brain. It was torturous. It felt neverending and he just couldn't escape from the agony.
But then he heard it.
Your voice. Your morals. Your encouragement. Your warmth.
‘You don't leave your friends to die if you can save them.’
The stinging sensation seemed to dull.
‘As long as you two are okay…Don't mind dying.’
It gave him clarity.
You almost died to keep them safe. It was only right they returned the favor. Gon had already done what he could, so now it was Killua's turn to do what he couldn't.
The realization coming just as Rammot slammed its foot directly on Killua's spine. Again and again with a laugh.
“Now move! You can't, can you? Ha! Since you're frozen with fear!”
It gave a few more stomps before kicking him away again.
“Damn. This feels incredible. Should I kill him or the other one first? Maybe savor both. I can't decide!” The ant rambled to itself.
“Damnit! I can't get enough!”
Killua got up on shaky elbows. Pushing himself up. He'd already made up his mind.
‘Run. Hurry.’
No. Not this time.
He could feel himself crying. Seems it was all he was capable of doing today. Blubbering like a baby because nothing had gone his way. He'd been such a screw up.
‘Gon…
Y/n…
I will protect you…because…’
“Because we're friends.” He was nearing hysterics. Standing up as he clutched his head in pain. A broken sob leaving him before he shouted everything out.
“Do you hear me, Gon? You're my best friend! And Y/n? You're my big sibling! And I'm sorry for all the awful things I said this morning!”
It hurt.
It hurt so bad.
His head. His heart. Everything. But Rammot only watched his breakdown stunned. Killua's destroyed expression sparking something cruel inside it.
“Stop that right now. Don't look at me like that. I can't hold it anymore. I'm gonna…Do it. I've gotta…”
The two enemies unable to hear the other through their own thoughts.
‘Run.’
Killua was fighting with his brother's voice. Through every wave of pain, he persisted.
‘Run.’
‘You can't tell me what-!’
‘Run, run, run.’
‘SHUT UP!’
“I don't ever want to lose them!” All he could see was the two most important people in his life. What he would be losing if he gave in.
‘Run.’
“They're my…”
‘Run.’
‘Goblins! The both of you!’
‘Looks like we really made them mad this time, Killua.’
‘Run.’
‘I thought you said you weren't our parent?'
'I'm not. It's called being a responsible adult. Now go and do one of those first things while I set up the bed. I know for a fact there's a 99% chance you'll throw down with the fitted sheet if you do it.'
'Come on, let's do what they ask before they decide to throw another pillow at you. And I don't think they'll miss this time.'
“They're my…”
His nails were scratching at his forehead. Completely unaware of Rammot's incoming attack.
“THEY’RE MY FAMILY!!! THE ONES I'M SUPPOSED TO PROTECT!!!”
He plunged his fingers into his skull and tugged. Itching at the part of his brain that hurt the most. As he pulled something out, he could have sworn he heard your voice.
“Atta boy.”
In a speed that rivaled yours, he dodged Rammot’s attack last second. Appearing behind him with a needle in his hand. The Chimera Ant baffled by his disappearance.
Killua couldn't help but lose what little love he had for his big brother in that moment. Laughing at the absurdity of what he'd done because you…You were nothing like Illumi. And he was a brat for making that comparison before. For even thinking it.
“He got me. Damn Illumi.” But despite the betrayal, he couldn't help but smile. If this was what was controlling him, what was stopping him from reaching his true potential…then now he was free. Free to fight besides his best friend, and free to stop letting his fear of being a burden get the best of him.
He turned around to face the ant. Explaining what happened even though he knew the ant could care less.
“Why the hell didn't I catch this before? He planted this deep inside my brain.”
“Huh? What're you saying? Are you nuts?” Now the ant was the one stood still. Unable to process that now, it was completely outclassed.
“How were you able to dodge that?”
But Killua ignored the question. Continuing to ramble on before releasing his ren. One that was cruel and dark. Not malicious, yet just as cutthroat.
“Now go and tell the other ants…If they even come near us, they're all gonna end up dead.” He warned.
Rammot seethed with anger at his words. A weak nothing was threatening him? How dare this human mock him. How dare it even think of doing so.
“WHY YOU!” The ant gave one last lunge forward.
“That so? Fine.” Killua was at his limit already. Drained in every sense of the word. So without much hesitation, he decapitated the ant in one go. Glaring at the thing that caused him so much trouble.
He didn't have any more sympathy to give. He was done with today. Crushing the ant's skull in his hand like nothing.
“Who cares?”
All he wanted to do was go back home and see you. Apologize for blaming you for everything. Take back what he said about you leaving.
Then….
The three of you could go back to normal.
You'd be the big sibling, and they'd be the little brothers.
He wasted no time making his way towards Gon. He was out cold. Killua turned him over, checking for any major injuries. When he found none, he tossed him over his shoulder and started making his way back. Gon was hurt, but it wasn't something he hadn't dealt with before. He'd be fine.
Both of them would be okay.
But not without talking to you first. He reached the spot where you and Palm had been sitting. You weren't there. He hoped with everything in him that you were back at the small home. That you hadn't left yet.
So he set his sights there.
—-------------------------
Somewhere along the way, Gon had woken up. His grip tightening slightly on Killua before he spoke.
“Killua? Did we-”
“I took care of it. We won't have to worry about seeing that guy again.” He responded. Already knowing what was on Gon's mind.
“And Y/n?”
“They weren't at the lake when I checked. But it's fine. I'll see them at home. You just rest. You're body needs it after what you just put it through.” It was meant to lighten the mood, but he didn't mean it any less.
Gon had pushed his body too far. If he were anybody else, Killua would have been pissed. But he was just relieved he hadn't sustained any major injuries. That he didn't have to leave him after all.
“...Okay…You're my best friend too, you know…” Sleep evident in Gon’s tone.
The words stopping Killua in his tracks. His expression shocked because - Gon had heard everything. He knew how important he was to Killua.
“What!?!?” But Gon was already snoring softly in his ears.
“Hey! You can't just pass out on me after saying stuff like that!”
He got no further response for the boy in green. So, with his cheeks red and a few grumbles, he continued on his way. How absolutely embarrassing. Yet it felt elating at the same time to know he was also important to Gon.
All that was missing was you.
—---------------------
The lights were off. Which meant…You hadn't come back yet. Or maybe you'd already left. A feeling of dread washed over him. Was he too late? He'd never be able to forgive himself if he was.
The door was still locked too. And as he walked inside, it felt empty. He placed Gon down on the couch before making his way over to your room. He gave a few knocks, but there was no response. In a last ditch effort he opened the door.
Your room was neater than how Palm left it. Your bed was also made eerily to perfection. No sign of you recently coming in. You weren't here. And it was already midnight. He was about to leave when something caught his eye.
Kite's hat was still on your nightstand.
You wouldn't have left it behind. It was too important to you. Then again, you were leaving them behind…But Kite was different. He'd always been different to you. Try as Killua might, he couldn't help but feel a spark of hope that you weren't gone yet. There was still a chance.
He exited your room just in time for the lights to come on. Standing still anxiously as you finished locking the door, unawares to his presence. All your energy from before seemed to be gone. You finally looked like yourself. But it all went away the second he called out to you.
“Y/n.”
You visibly tensed. A brief flash of shock before your expression went completely blank. You weren't expecting to see the boys. You thought they'd be asleep by now, or at the very least out of the house. You weren't ready for another confirmation. More screaming and arguing. You should've been gone already. It was clear your presence did more harm than good.
‘I hate you.’
‘You're a burden.’
‘If you cared you wouldn’t have abandoned us!’
“I just came to get a few things. If you'll excuse me…” You did your best to keep your tone steady. Not to let anything show. But still his words rung heavy in your head.
You wouldn't be dragging this out with a goodbye. You were only inconveniencing them the longer you stayed. Yet as you tried to push past Killua, he panicked.
“No!” he blurted out. Taking a few steps forward before he realized what he was doing. How this was already not going as planned.
“I uh…Can we please talk?” His tone was much softer than you were used to.
It had you eyeing him suspiciously. And now that you were actually seeing him, he was injured. Bruising accompanied by swelling. A queazy feeling settling in your stomach as you spotted red in the center of his forehead. The last thing you wanted was to appear weak at a time like this. So you turned your head away from him. An action that felt undeniably cruel.
But this is what he wanted, right? For you to stay out of his life. It was only common sense you should act like you already were.
“I have nothing to say to you.”
If you'd been looking, you would have seen the exact moment his heart broke. You didn't sound angry. You didn't say it to be petty. From his perspective, it felt like you really were done with him. You'd already moved on.
And he just couldn't accept that.
“What!?! Y/n please.”
Killua had never felt this pitiful in his entire life. So small. He never expected to be treated like a complete stranger from you. You were his big sibling. But it seemed like all the warmth from you had gone and faded away.
Why was he staring at you like that? Like your indifference was hurting him. Why was his aura flooded with regret and sorrow? Was he second guessing himself after all? Or was this a test? A trick? A way to lure you back in, only to spit in your face once again.
Tell you something sweet to then accuse you of not being enough again.
That was it right?
He'd blame you for his injuries next.
No.
They were the ones who followed you.
It wasn't your fault.
So why were you blaming yourself? If you'd been there, would the results have been different?
‘You should know I'm very proud of you. Not many would stick up for those they cared about when facing punishment. You have a loyalty that runs deep.’
But as quickly as the warmth came, it was taken. The hand cupping your cheek moved back and slapped you. Your head turning from the force.
The left side of your face was numb. A dark handprint already forming on your skin.’
No. No it wouldn't have. There were just some people who you'd never be able to make happy. No matter what you did. And unfortunately, it was always the people you cared the most about. Your body once again shutting down at the thought.
“... I'm going to be late if I don't leave now. Can't you just write it in a note or something?” You didn't mean for it to be that harsh, but it was the only way to get your message across.
You were done.
And the longer you were pestered about it, the sooner you'd snap.
What was this? Why were you acting like this? Cruel. Detached. You'd wanted to fix things earlier, right? So what happened? What the hell happened? How far had he gone for you to treat him like this?
He didn't mean it. Any of it. And he needed you to know that. He took a few more steps forward, tears once again brimming his eyes. How many times had he cried today?
How many times had been because of you?
“Y/n, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything.” He'd said it. Gon said all he had to do was apologize. And if that still wasn't enough, then he'd do whatever it took for you to forgive him.
But your response was the last thing he was expecting.
“... Okay…”
One word.
One single word that was meant to brush him off.
And he couldn't help but become desperate for something more. A response that wasn't empty. That wasn't cold.
“Okay? Okay!?! What's wrong with you!?!? Don't you care!?! All you have to say to me is ‘okay’!?!”
And the damm had finally broke.
“Tell me you hate me! That you never want to see me again!!! Just say something more than okay!”
You'd opened and closed your mouth a few times trying to figure out something to say. You didn't want to argue anymore. You were tired of it. Tired of today completely.
“You're gonna wake him up if you keep screaming.” You gestured towards Gon.
An action so baffling, it made his jaw drop. This was it. You were officially done. But he wasn't ready to let you go. He couldn't stand knowing they mattered so little to you. He couldn't stand you not knowing how much you meant to the both of them.
“Like I said. I need to grab a few-” But before you could get the words out, Killua had rushed over. Wrapping his arms tightly around your middle sobbing.
“I'm sorry, don't leave! Please!”
Hug him back, please. He needed you to hug him back. To say things would be okay. He needed you to stay.
You placed your hand on his head. And for a second, he thought the situation would end there. That you wouldn't leave after all. It had him believing everything would be okay. That you'd ruffle his hair and make him promise not to say anything like that again. But instead, that brief moment of contact was used to push him away from you.
Making him stumble back in shock.
As if you were swatting away a pest. Like he was inconveniencing you by holding on. And that was what broke him completely.
You were done with them.
You didn't have to say it for him to know…You hated him.
He could take a lot of things. He'd endured the worst kinds of torture for years from his family. He'd been forced to see carnage at such a young age. He'd always been treated like some kind of trophy instead of a person. And he never once complained. He never once argued with what was forced upon him.
But this...This he couldn't take.
You pushing him aside to enter your room. Like you were dead set on being out of his life. So once again, he wasted no time clinging onto you. Feet almost dragging on the floor as you tried to move forward. Burying his face against your side.
“I don't care if you hate me! If you don't want me anymore! Don't leave! Don't just leave us here by ourselves!”
You'd placed your hand on his head once more. You were gonna push him away again. And the fear pushed him to speak from the depths of his soul. A plea for you to stop.
“I love you! Is that what you wanted to hear!?!? I didn't mean it when I said I wanted you gone! Don't-Don’t give up because I was being stupid!”
Your movements stopped. Listening to Killua's cries in silence. Taking in everything. This was also a song and dance you'd done before. Love that was given, then taken for no other reason than because you'd messed up.
Love you?
It was enough to break you too. An ugly feeling clutching at your heart. One that was tired of the constant push and pull between love and hate. Killua unable to know he'd resurfaced a trauma so deep and scarred from your childhood.
‘You are very important, little one. So very gifted, and you never fail to make me proud.’
‘Taking the fall again? You know better than to lie to me.’ A slap to your face. Then another one.
‘My pride and joy. You're a one of a kind prodigy.’
‘Disgraceful what you've done. Forsaking the name given to you just to act foolish? Tainting the clan that graciously welcomed you with open arms. Your punishment is total isolation for a week. Now get out of my sight.’
“Stop talking. I know what you're doing. I'm not an idiot.” Your tone accusing. And before Killua could explain anything, you'd shoved him off of you once more. Now glaring with a look that could only be described as hate.
“What? Did something else go wrong that you want me to fix? Well I'm done being the fixer. I'm done with your problems always being my fault. You only want me here to have someone to blame, right?”
You pointed directly at him. Shaking your head before you clasped it tightly in your hands. A cruel grin on your face while he saw you cry for the very first time.
“I didn't do anything wrong! I'm not perfect, but I'm not the cause of all your problems!” You hadn't been here today. It couldn't have possibly been your fault this time.
But maybe somehow it had.
“I didn't make things worse intentionally!”
It was then that Killua realized what was happening. He thought he had it bad but…you had it worse. His heart ached for you while you continued to break right in front of him.
“I told you-I told you I can't always get things right! But of course I'm older! It's always my fault! I'm the strongest! So everything falls on me when someone gets hurt!” You let out a laugh. One that sounded defeated.
Your eyes met his and you gestured to yourself frantically.
“Haven't I done enough for you!?!?” Your voice seeming to bounce off the walls. The space falling into silence.
They'd put too much on your shoulders. Or maybe the weight had already been there. Carried over from what you'd experienced previously. Now it was Killua's turn to try and comfort you. His turn to lift your burdens. But he didn't get the chance to.
“Why-Why am I never good enough?” It was a whisper at this point.
You weren't good enough for Reik.
You weren't good enough for Kari.
You weren't good enough for Kite.
You weren't good enough for Gon and Killua.
You will never be good enough.
“You are enough.” Killua's voice snapping you from your spiral. The very same words you didn't get a chance to say this morning.
But somehow you just couldn't believe them yet. Then you'd heard it. Her.
'I love you, you're here with me. You're safe with me. Let me protect you for now. Just until you get your strength back.'
He was trying, wasn't he?
“Then why? Why don't I feel like it?”
The small assassin was at a loss of words. Who did this to you? Who had ruined you so completely that you couldn't put yourself back together. He took a step towards you, but you'd put your hand up to stop him.
“You know what? I don't care anymore. Say whatever you want, I'm done.” You wiped your eyes and instead of going towards your room, you started towards the front door.
Killua had to try one more time. Now that he knew what you really thought of yourself. So he grabbed your wrist this time. Funny how now the roles were reversed this time.
“Don't leave.”
You tried to pull your arm away.
“We can't do this without you. We've only gotten this far because of you. You're- You're-”
It was hard to put into words just how much you'd changed their lives. How important you were. But he needed to. Especially now that you had stopped trying to pull yourself away.
“All my family has ever done is use me. They have this image in their head of what I'm supposed to be. What I'm supposed to become. But you've never done that. When I'm with you and Gon, it's like I can finally be someone I'm proud of. I've never had someone care about me like you. But maybe I've taken advantage of that. Maybe I've been doing to you what my family has been doing to me. Expecting you to fit this image of what I think is a perfect big sibling.
But you're not perfect. And neither am I. And that's okay. I don't want you to be perfect because then you're not you. You're not the one who calls us goblins or chases us around when you're upset. You're a stranger. I know I shouldn't have said what I did this morning, and I regretted it ever since. I do want you in my life. Both of us want you to stay. Please…”
You'd collapsed on your knees crying. And he wasted no time kneeling besides you. Pulling you into a hug.
“I really can't keep doing this. It's unfair when I leave, and I know that. But do it because I don't want you to get hurt. I'm not safe. I can't risk anything happening to you. I'd never be able to forgive myself if it happened again.” Losing another kid, it would kill you.
“But when you tell me you need me, then say you want nothing to do with me…it's cruel. It's-its-!” It's just like Father.
“You don't know, you can't possibly have known, but I've always been measured by my worth. What I'm capable of doing just for a moment of normalcy. Of being wanted. It's not your fault.. but I can't keep doing this.”
You can't keep losing your purpose in life.
Being praised for completing missions. Then being hit for failing. Being told you were burdening your clan for making a mistake. Being isolated in the dark for messing up. Only for him to pretend like it never happened.
The constant push and pull of love and hate. Of being praised and belittled.
You couldn't do it again.
But kids tended to be unsure about their own feelings. You couldn't put it on them for saying things when they were upset. But goddamit, what about when you were upset. Who was there to be understanding for you when things went wrong?
Nobody.
You were just supposed to take it.
Endure it.
Killua hugged you a little tighter.
“I didn't mean it.” He reaffirmed.
Your tears finally slowing down.
“We're your little brothers. And we love you. I love you. But I'd just like to know why you keep leaving. And if you're not ready to talk about that yet, it's fine. We'll both always be here if you need us. You don't have to bottle things up anymore.”
The same thing Kite had said to you when you lost control.
And he'd meant it just as much.
Not a single trace of deceit in his aura.
So you allowed yourself to believe it one last time. Knowing you wouldn't be able to take it if it wasn't true again.
You at last returned the hug. Engulfing the small assassin in your arms.
“You can't ever say those things again to me, okay?” Your voice was smaller than it had ever been. Almost scared with the slight waiver to it.
“I promise. I'm not gonna make you deal with everything anymore. If something's wrong, we'll deal with it together.” And finally he heard it for real this time.
“Atta boy.”
It was almost enough to make him cry again. That was until the couch started rustling. A flash of green peaking over at the scene.
“So are you two good now?” Gon asked.
The both of you looking over in shock.
“Hey! You heard everything again!?!? How many times are you gonna pretend to be asleep!?! You know it's very rude to eavesdrop!!!!” Killua scolded. His face a bright red.
And before he could roughhouse with the other one, you let out a laugh. A real laugh. Your laugh. And you'd finally given your real smile.
“Get over here,” you encouraged.
Gon bolting from the couch and stumbling over into one side of your open arms. You gave both boys a squeeze.
“I love you both, my little sun and moon.”
Maybe….
Maybe you were just about ready to tell them everything.
----------------------------
Not so Fun Fact #15: Y/n is very squeamish with touch. Especially around their face, due to what they experienced as a child.
Tags: @fandomhoe101 @justxiao @bekataylorgriggs @zellwa @rainbowpr1sm
MASTERLIST
An: Let me know which line hit you in the feels the most. For future references 👀👀👀. And by reference I mean to make Gon's fight absolutely devastating. Or just the final stretch of the Chimera Ant Arc entirely.
#hxh#hunter x hunter#hxh x reader#hunter x hunter x reader#hxh x y/n#hunter x hunter x y/n#gon x reader#killua x reader#mayhaps a kite x reader???#big sib reader#older reader#found family#x reader#platonic#moon and sun insert
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𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖈! || Butters Stotch with a pretty female ! highschooler who takes care of him as an older sister.
note ;; age stays as canon.
It all started because your neighboors needed a babysitter for their son.
And you, being the highschooler you were, needed a bit of money to buy your most recent whim, so you knocked on the door and offered yourself to babysit their son.
Linda and Stephen talked for a bit before accepting you and telling you all the things that you needed to know.
[like where the principal rooms were, the food you needed to prepare him for dinner and the bedtime]
Later on, when you were fully informed, you became Leopold ‘Butters’ Stotch’s babysitter.
To say it was a pleasure to be his babysitter would be an understandment, because that boy was truly an angel!
He was very polite to you the whole time and even asked you to paint his nails while you two watched a Barbie movie.
He also was very curious about you and asked many questions about highschool and about yourself, like your favourite colour, series and type of music.
After that little night you both call your first meeting you instantly developed a sense of protection towards Butters, and so on you kept interacting with him, and that’s how his friends met you.
“Butters, hun, you left your notebook in my house” you said as you walked towards Butters with a soft smile, said notebook full of Hello Kitty stickers safely held in your hands.
“aw, thank you! silly me, I forgot it” Butters chuckled with a small blush of shame as you handed him the notebook, you smiled warmly at him before crouching a bit and pressing a kiss to his forehead before ruffling his hair slightly.
"Butters dude, you coming or- woah!” you turned yourself to be met with a dark haired boy with ice blue eyes, Stan, staring at you with deep red cheeks and a surprised look.
And yeah, that was pretty much everyone’s reaction when they saw you.
And yes, Kenny did absolutely cling to you for dear life after you called him one of those sweet nicknames you had for Butters and started whinning when Cartman tried to get him off you so they could enter the school.
Now Kenny treats Butters super well in hopes he talks to you of him and you decide to look after him too, poor Kenny needs maternal love and affection.
Cartman mocks Butters about you and jokes alot about you being a basic bitch, Butters punched him in the face the day he called you that though.
You usually will stay the night at Butters’ house in Fridays and you both have a calm night of watching movies and drawing or doing silly little crafts to gift his parents / friends.
[please gift something to Kenny he will cry and cling to your leg for a whole 3 hours]
You def. will help Butters to sew and fix his different costumes.
You will also def. be Proffesor Chaos’ right hand and you’ll be dressed as the typical 80′s bad boy (I mean leather jacket INCLUDED) even though you are a girl AND THE SUPERHEROS ACTUALLY BELIEVE YOU ARE A BOY LMAO.
I am 103% believer in that you two will spend whole evenings baking little sweet treats and trying to decorate them so they resemble Hello Kitty’s characters.
You definitely have punched Cartman when he made fun of Butters, and you definitely had to be held back for Shelley and Stan while Scott hyped you up from the background.
do not 𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖆𝖑 nor 𝖗𝖊𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖙 my work || fanarts are welcome and appreciated !
#south park#south park x reader#platonic south park x reader#butters#butters stotch#leopold#leopold stotch#butters x reader#older reader#x older reader#x fem reader#fem reader#female reader#x female reader#south park x female reader#south park x fem reader#marj#marjorine#south park butters#south park butters x reader#kid's works
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𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗦𝗠𝗢𝗞𝗘
Im back, they couldnt keep me locked away for long <3
….should I make it into another series? Or…
The water cascaded down your back, and you let out a light sigh at the sensation. It was a long mission
When you arrived at the abandoned hospital earlier, you were expecting one singular first grade, and possibly people to save. Yet, you were forced to fight with two special grades.
You figured they either forgot to mention it in the report you had gotten, or whatever money for brains idiot didn’t sense it.
Possibly the latter.
Swiftly exorcising both curses, you wiped the sweat from your forehead. It caused a little trouble, but nothing you couldn’t get rid of.
Which, was the initial thought before hearing noises. Was that sniffling? Perhaps you missed a lower cursed spirit under all the racket made.
The remaining sparks of cursed energy was a little odd you have to admit, but usually a lot of cursed energy in one spot leaves residues at times.
Footsteps from your combat boots echoed within the hallways before a pair of black combat boots stopped in front of one specific door.
The sign next to the room read out ‘Room 63’
The closer you were, the more audible the supposed crying really was. Hesitantly, but ready for anything you placed a hand on the door and turned the knob.
The possibilities were endless as your eyes fell upon the dark canvas of the room. Just as you entered, the crying had withered down into pathetic sniffling once again and a small figure in the corner was moving. It wasn’t that dark after all.
You approached the small figure, realizing this couldn’t possibly be a cursed spirit. “Hello?”
Your voice echoed within the room. And the figure perked up. Oh, its probably a child?
“I don’t mean any harm, Promise!” You took another cautionary step to test if the child was willing to let you closer. They let you closer without flinching at least, good.
The child let out a broken hum of affirmation in response before you crouched down eye to eye.
As if it was a scenic moment, the moon shined in from the open window that allowed in light.
You observed the young child with interest.
His hair was black and short, but a bit long for someone of his age at the same time. Looked around the age of 7 or 10, with matching amber eyes.
He inched closer to the corner with a downcast expression, avoiding and breaking eye contact immediately.
You softened at this. He looked so fragile for a young boy his age.
“Hey..whats your name?”
He looked at the other side of the room before turning back to you, “I’m..Suguru” he mumbled out.
“Suguru” you tested his name on your tongue before giving a faint, small smile. You reached your hand out and placed a hand on his small head before ruffling up his hair a bit.
“Ill take care of you”
#{-muxis writes#x reader#x y/n#headcanons#headcanon#oneshots#jjk x reader#suguru geto x reader fluff#child suguru geto#older reader#suguru geto jjk#suguru geto#suguru geto x reader#jjk headcanons#jjk series#??? i think#geto x reader#suguru geto x you
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Just A Number
Bucky Barnes x Older Reader
Summary: Reader meets Bucky at a party and the attraction is more than either one of them wants to resist.
Notes: Since most stories are younger readers I felt like having a more mature reader could be a nice change of pace. Especially since I'm creeping up on senior discounts and want to believe Bucky could fall in love with someone like me.
I try to keep my readers description vague but, as always, she's female, tall and this one is obviously 40+
Last chapter.......
Y/N looked at him with lust darkened eyes "Shut up and carry me to my room, Sarge."
Buckys breath caught "Anything you want doll, is yours."
Chapter 12
Warnings: swearing, tiny angst, fluff, dirty talk
***SMUT*** 18+ ONLY
Bucky grabbed the back of her thighs and whispered in her ear "Jump"
She almost asked how high but simply smiled and complied, wrapping her legs around his waist, robe falling behind her and night shirt pushed up to her waist, until he could feel her heat leaking through her panties.
"Jamie, please..." She moaned as he stopped to hold her up against a wall and kissed down her neck to the swell of her breasts.
He mumbled into her skin "Where is your fucking room? I need to be inside you sweetheart."
Y/N pulled one of her hands out of his hair and pointed to the stairs "Stairs, right, purple door." Then returned her hand to the back of his head and pulled him up to kiss her again.
They were halfway up the stairs when she bit his bottom lip and he almost stumbled "Careful honey, don't wanna distract me and fall down the stairs."
In a breathy voice she replied "I trust you to keep me safe, Sarge."
Bucky groaned "Do you even know what you do to me doll? So perfect." *kiss* "Smart" *kiss* "and beautiful" kiss*nibble*groan "and funny" *kiss*grunt "and so goddamn sexy I've been losing my mind." *panting*
"I don't think I had so many wet dreams even when I was a teenager. I couldn't share a room with Sam for fear he would hear me. Waking up most mornings with the whisper of your touch and sticky sheets."
Y/N giggled breathily in his ear "I missed you too, Sarge."
Bucky groaned.
He finally found her door and dropped her on the bed before closing and locking it. He looked around her room as he unbuttoned his shirt "So how's the sound carry around here? I suppose sound proof rooms would be too much to ask."
She giggled and he felt his cock throb before she answered "It's not completely soundproof but we bought this when I turned 21 and the trust fund from my biological parents came to me. Michael was still a toddler.
Dawn moved into the apartment upstairs when she turned 21, so with everything we made sure it's all very well insulated. She won't hear much and if we're too much she has fancy headphones."
She smirked at him "I hope you're not too shy because you're going to hear about it in the morning, whether she can hear us or not."
"Thanks for the heads up. I'll just have to make this night worth whatever she can come up with." Bucky kissed her hard before ripping off what little clothing she had and then stripping the rest of his clothes off.
When he was done he stood back to look at her, laid out on her bed like the most decadent dessert he had ever seen, and blushed at how she was checking him out right back.
After a moment she started feeling self conscious and moved to cover her body's evidence of child bearing.
Bucky growled "Don't do that doll, I want to see you."
She shivered as she looked down "You don't need to see my c section scar and stretch marks."
He shook his head "I want all of you, even the scars and imperfections. Don't hide from me. I have some nasty scars myself, you know."
"Yeah but yours are from combat, not taking a stubborn baby out or your skin stretching over the fat from two pregnancies that never quite goes away.
Fighting scars are sexy, definitely not the same."
"Let me show you baby."
He crawled up the bed, stopping to kiss and caress on his way up. He took a quick taste of her dripping heat and groaned at her sweetness. Before she could get too into it he moved up to kiss and nibble at her c section scar. He kissed and traced every one of the stretch marks on her hips, stomach and breasts.
"So beautiful" he whispered in awe of her beauty and willingness to share it with him. Thankful that Sharon hadn't ruined the best thing he ever had.
When he was up to her face he kissed her hard, trying to pour all his love for her into it. The love that scared him and seemed too soon but he didn't care anymore and couldn't think of anywhere he'd rather be than with her.
While they kissed he slowly slid into her drenched heat, the squelching sound just making him harder and needier.
"Goddamn doll, you feel so fucking good. So tight and dripping wet, I don't ever want to leave your sweet pussy." Bucky was rambling into her ear as he thrust into her, already gone for the feelings he had given up on controlling. The more he fucked into her the more that was chipped away at his restraint, the less he could hold back so deep into the moment and how she felt around him.
He sped up until he was slamming into her, hitting her spot every time he thrust into her, encouraged by her moans and whines, trying to become part of her, until he felt his orgasm creeping up and slowed back down. He reached down to rub her clit and groaned when he felt her tighten around him.
"Fuck, Y/N, I can feel you're getting close. I need you to cum for me sweetheart." He grunted, trying to hold his finish back until she came but it was getting to be impossible "Oh god honey, I can't hold back. C'mon baby, give it to me." He sped up "Yesyes, shitshit s'good baby."
Y/N was lost in the moment, in him and the feelings he brought, physical and emotional. She felt her orgasm rushing up on her and was too overwhelmed to do anything but shudder and groan and whine, "Jamie, please".
She felt him swelling inside her, becoming impossibly harder, before he painted her walls with his cum.
As he panted in her ear she couldn't stop the sob from escaping her mouth, her eyes filling with tears. She tried to speak but couldn't. She clawed at his back, needing him closer.
Bucky pulled back to look at her but she turned her head in an attempt to hide the tears from him.
"Y/N? Are you ok? Did I hurt you? Talk to me honey, please." He looked at her anxiously, afraid he had done something wrong.
After a few minutes she was able to stop the crying and looked at him embarrassed "I'm sorry, tonight has been very intense and I get emotional because, hormones." She smiled softly at him "You didn't do anything wrong, you were perfect and I'm....." She mumbled the rest so he didn't understand.
He wiped the tears off of her face, hoping she wouldn't notice his eyes were watery as well.
"You're what doll? You can tell me anything."
She shook her head "No, I don't want to scare you off. It's too soon."
"Too soon for what? I don't think there's anything you could do to scare me off. Just tell me." He coaxed.
Her face heated up and she was grateful for the darkness "I'm falling in love with you." She whispered so softly he almost couldn't hear. Almost.
Bucky smiled and kissed her all over her face then nuzzled in her neck before nibbling on her ear
"I'm in love with you too, Y/N. And I'm not going anywhere."
He got up to get a wet towel and clean them both up before he kissed her slow and deep, laying on his side and pulling her into him.
They both fell asleep quickly, sated and content.
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Y/N was disturbed by knocking on her bedroom door and grumbled "Go'way, sleepin'.
The person on the other side of the door knocked harder "It's after noon, you bum. It's Sunday, you're late for brunch and the kids are coming tonite." Dawn kept knocking.
"Fine dammit, I'm up. Go'way."
Dawn laughed "Tell your soldier you have to eat to keep your strength up or you'll be a dead lay."
Y/N grumbled and tried to wake Bucky "James." She gently rubbed his right arm "Jamie. Time to get up."
Bucky grunted, rolled to his side and pulled her closer "Mmmm, five more minutes doll."
She shook him "No Jamie. It's time for food, you heard her."
He groaned again "Three more minutes?"
She shook him harder "No Jamie, now. You don't understand, she will come in here if we aren't up soon."
"I'm not afraid of your tiny sister."
Y/N chuckled "You should be. Don't let her size fool you. Besides I smell coffee and bacon. I'm hungry, dammit!"
She tried to crawl over him but he grabbed her and pulled her close with a smirk on his face "Yeah? Me too."
She kissed him hard, licked the tip of his nose then jumped out of bed while he was distracted wiping his nose off "Later sarge, a girls gotta eat."
Bucky grinned "I'll give you something-"
Dawn knocked again "At the table in two minutes or I'm coming in there."
Y/N stuck her tongue out at him and threw on some sweats and a t-shirt. "Don't worry, we have plenty of time to fool around but I'm about to pass out from hunger."
"Fine" Bucky relented "but I'm having dessert after brunch."
As they went to get up they could hear the doorbell and the dogs barking. Y/N gave him a kiss before they headed for the front door to see who was there.
@supraveng @cjand10 @440mxs-wife @kandis-mom @dtba-grey81 @calwitch @ozwriterchick
Chapter 13
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky barnes x reader#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#angst with a happy ending#just a number#james bucky barnes x y/n#older reader#bucky barnes x female reader
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Hello bby, you know about my request:
Soft/nsfw headcanons where my precious prince can no longer control his sexual attraction for a girl a few years older than him.
I don't care if it's for Jacaerys or Modern!Jace, I leave it to your choice because I will love it the same way.
Thank you <3
It's impossible, there's no chance of her reciprocating. I will never make it. That's what Jace thinks when he realizes the nature of the feelings he harbors for you. You, older, beautiful and well resolved. And he's just a college student with wealthy parents who's never been in a serious relationship to the point of imagining one with you.
You two met at the Targaryen foundation's annual dinner to collect clothing and toys for donation. You were a friend of a friend of Rhaenyra's, and although you interacted with a few people, you remained a somewhat distant part of the event in the hall of Viserys's manor.
It was the first time his eyes had widened more than normal when he saw someone. It was almost cliché, but a sudden, rapid shortness of breath came over him as he watched you looking at some of the paintings in his grandfather's collection. He had to talk to you.
Jacaerys is welcoming and friendly to everyone, you didn't know him or his family, but when he approached you with a warm smile — inwardly nervous — you couldn't help but return the gesture. "Hi, I'm Jace, is this your first time here?", he extended his hand to greet you.
Trying to impress you is almost an understatement, the Velaryon boy used everything beyond his reach to make a strong impression. It was a common Jacaerys attitude, but with you… it was more. He doesn't know why, but he needed to see your smile and hear your words all night long.
And you've never met a figure like him, so young but so smart, polite, adorable and mature — and handsome. Maybe it was the environment he had grown up in, or he was like that without outside influence, you don't know, but you found yourself involved and able to talk to him for the rest of the event.
And that's what happened.
Jacaerys, or Jace, was totally attracted to you. He didn't want to let you go without having your number or Instagram account to send you the profile of the contemporary artist of the moment — he couldn't come up with a better excuse, but it wasn't entirely a lie.
One thing a few more years guarantees is experience in these situations, the bright, expectant little eyes he wore as he waited for your answer gave it all away. He was interested in you. You looked at him affectionately, thinking of denying the sweet, after all he was starting to walk the steps you already walked.
But he was so thoughtful and cute that you couldn't say no.
And so you two started talking almost daily. At first about the arts, then about your routines and family and whatever subject you wanted to talk about. He was totally warmed up to you, needing to keep in touch or read up on old conversations. Soon your heart began to tingle as well as he thought of him. Thinking about it? You were surprised by this, but you couldn't keep the image of the sweet and friendly boy out of your mind.
The first date between you wasn't called a date, he didn't want to scare/push you off and vice versa. It was at a cool, hip bar where mostly adults and young adults hang out. It was… natural, very natural and good. It was a weekend and there wasn't anything pending that would hold you back the next day, so the hours weren't counted by you.
“That was so cool, really, we should totally do it again,” he said when you pulled into the parking lot. “Yes, it was really cool,” you agreed, smiling for the thousandth time all night. He couldn't wait any longer, nor did he want to. “I-I know this could screw things up, but I can't put it off any longer. I would like to kiss you. Kiss, really kiss, you know?" He was as nervous as he'd ever been before. Come on, he was good with girls, but you… you're an amazing woman. He could lose you forever for this. "I know." You laughed, "I know honey, you don't hide it as well as you think." Approaching him, you held his beautiful bright cheeks and kissed him.
Oh fuck. Fuck. He floated with the contact of your lips and held your waist to stay totally close to you. He didn't want to look like a teenager, but he didn't stop at putting his tongue in your mouth and kissing you as intensely as if he was afraid you'd disappear.
His lips were so good and soft and you just wanted him to keep squeezing your waist so well. "You're right, that was very good”, you agreed after walking away.
He hated what happened next, but it was so sudden that he couldn't control the moment that made him hard to hear your answer. He walked away a few inches not to get caught, but smiled almost nervously adding: "Yes, it was. Can we do this another day?"
"Of course we can, Jace."
And you do. You two go on more dates and keep talking to each other like teenagers in the flirting phase. When he started hanging out at your house, things got a little hotter. Kisses become more frequent and lasting and touches begin to appear. He loves to see you smile as he plants kisses on your neck and face, stroking your hair with his hand.
But then, as you two approach the next step he's never been this nervous before. He was no virgin, but he'd never done that with someone with higher expectations. You weren't some fool who would put up with bad sex, so he really puts in the effort. Not just that, but he wants so badly to see you without any layers of clothing on.
It's so sexy how you squeeze his hair as he kisses your breasts, stomach and thighs, way too dangerously far from where he's wanted to be since the first time your lips touched. “You’re nervous,” you said, “let me do it.”
You took his clothes off calmly, pushing him gently against the bed. He let out a husky moan as your hand slid gently onto his cock. He was so reactive. You pumped it a few times before riding him. His hands grip your waist as loud sounds escape his pink lips.
Your body is a feast that makes you want to taste more and more, he grips your breasts, your thighs and your waist, struggling to prop himself up on his elbows and reach your lips in an intense, breathless kiss.
He tried hard not to finish so quickly, and he was partially successful, but he couldn't hold back until you came. He felt terrible for feeling terrible at such a good time, but then you comforted him with a kiss on the forehead and wiped the thin layer of sweat that was on his forehead, only for him to gently turn you over, remove the condom and snake between your legs to make you come with your tongue on your pearl and your fingers inside your core.
“So… can we do this again?”, he asked with a goofy smile, making you snuggle into his chest.
“Mm, of course we do.”
#jacaerys velaryon x reader#jacaerys velaryon#jacaerys velaryon smut#jacaerys velaryon x you#jacaerys imagine#jacaerys velaryon headcanons#modern jacaerys#modern jace#prince jacaerys#jacaerys x older reader#older reader
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Grace Augustine X Fem Omaticaya Reader
A/N: You are 45 years old here considering Grace herself is 50
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You have known Grace for years, you remember her young and fresh-faced just as you were when she first landed on your home. She was bright, curious, and wanted to know everything and anything she can about life here from the plants to the Na'vi, and Eywa herself. You were intrigued because you have never seen a human before and when she came out in her Avatar you were just as curious because she looked like you but, she had four fingers instead of three like you and she had what they called eyebrows. Her eyes and nose were smaller as well but, you were so intrigued that you looked over what would be considered imperfections. You remembered your first interactions.
"Hi," Your head was tilted to the side as you watched the Na'vi look-alike come alive and look at the plants, intrigued with the fauna and the insects and animals that wandered around. You were supposed to be out hunting when you first caught sight of her in those weird garments. you have never seen such garments before. They seemed they would get in the way of hunting, of trying to move silently in the trees. They will get caught on branches and twigs.
"Hi?" She was even speaking a language you have never heard before and it seemed she caught herself because to your surprise she greeted you in normal Na'vi fashion
"Oel ngati Kameie." Her accent was different but, you can overlook that. Giving a tentative smile you slowly made your way to her, placing your bow down so as to not spook her. You were curious as to what she was doing and she seemed as if her whole world lit up when you got closer to her. It seemed she was just as curious about you as you were about her. This can be interesting.
"Oel ngati Kameie" You ignored the way her smile made you feel at that moment.
That was the start of a long and beautiful friendship with her. Over the years you have watched her connect with the Tsahik and Olo'eyktan as they welcomed what we called dreamwalkers into our home. They did not seem to be a threat and were simply curious about our way of life. She had opened a school for everyone to learn English and you were there to help mediate the children and to help her translate the rare times there was a loss of translation. It was also the first time you saw her and you realized how complicated your feelings were about to get.
However, all of that changed when the school was attacked by humans after Sylwanin and others destroyed their trucks and she as well as many children were killed. Sylwanin was the oldest daughter of the Tsahik and Sylwanin and per their order of them, all dream walkers were banished from entering the home tree and were to be killed on sight once in their territory. You were distraught over such a loss but, you couldn't bare being apart from her. You would volunteer to watch them, you would sneak off whenever you can to watch her and talk to her for a bit but, that was far and in between. The damage caused by the humans was too severe and therefore put a strain and hold on your feelings for her. Years went by and more humans came and the only time you even cared about one of them was when Jake Sully came and was declared chosen by Eywa. You were happy. You figured times have changed and one day your Grace would be able to connect with Eywa, come to the Home tree, and be able to see you. As time went by with teaching Jake Sully, you were informed of something spectacular by Neytiri herself
"Jake Sully has managed to convince my parents to let Grace come back." Your head had turned so fast that the beads in your hair clinked together to eye Neytiri who had a small smile on your face. You had seen her as a daughter and would always talk to her and Tsu'tey whenever you can. They were the only ones to know of your feelings for Grace and just how devastated you were that she was not allowed back to Home Tree.
"Are you sure? Ma Grace can come back? You promise?" You had dropped the bowl you were making in order to turn fully to Neytiri who let out a little chuckle at your eagerness.
"Yes, Sa'nuk. Your Grace will be here." You sent a prayer to Eywa before engulfing Neytiri in a hug and ordering her to take you to Jake Sully to personally thank him for this opportunity.
That was a while ago and you had re-connected with her and she brought a peace to your heart you never knew you needed. All of this did not last as Hometree was once again attacked by the humans but, this time they destroyed Home Tree completely. Your heart broke into a million pieces and you felt betrayed. You felt a deep sinking hurt and you were with Neytiri banishing Grace and Jake. It was their fault you no longer had a home and your Olo'eyktan was killed. You had prayed and prayed until Jake had shown up on Toruk and hope was brought upon the people once again. However, peace was not brought upon you when Jake informed you that Grace was dying. You felt as if you can cry going through the motions as Jake and Neytiri brought her body and her Avatar to the spirit tree. You knew there was a good chance that it wouldn't work and you had convinced Mo'at to allow you to be at the front. If anything, you wanted Grace's last face to be yours.
"Ma Grace." You pet her hair as everyone chanted. "My sweet, strong Grace." You watched as she reached for a weak hand to hold the one you had on her face.
"Oel Ngati Kameie, nga yawne lu oer...ma Y/N." You felt tears escape you as the words you longed to hear, begged for her to say escaped her lips as everything went silent. You waited with bated breath as her mask was removed and it was silent. Too silent. No movement. You felt your ears pin to your head, your hands shaking not wanting to accept that your Grace was with Eywa. Just as you were about to whimper her Avatar moved, your eyes focusing on her face watching as her eyes slowly opened, focusing on you. You sent a prayer to the Great Mother feeling a much bigger, much bluer hand guiding your face back down to hers.
" Ma Grace." You brought your face down to hers pressing your foreheads together
"Ma Y/N." You knew everything was going to be okay. You will be pulled out of the Time of Great Suffering.
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It's insinuated that we have the same ending as Avatar 1 except Grace lives here. This was a little different than how I usually write but, I think I did a pretty good job. Let me know what you guys think!
#grace augustine#avatar#omaticaya reader#fem reader#grace x fem reader#grace x fem omaticaya reader#older reader#na'vi reader#fem na'vi reader#fanfic#fanfiction
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Super-Human Resources
Steve Rogers x older!Reader continued from this ask from @nana1000night
Prompt: What if the reader is older than Steve, like...10 years maybe(?) She could see his shyness, ambition, and gentleness when they first meet. She never thought Steve would fall for her because of their age gap and she's insecure about herself...
Warnings: this is very rough for me, really dialogue-heavy and not balanced, etc. I may return to elaborate or edit, but I'm desperate to get on with the end of Dignity. I loved--loved--this dynamic and could totally see this being a bigger thing. I boiled it down to this fluffy/angsty/cute-ending thing. Some language and implied smut. Serious miscommunication.
[adorable dividers that I am obsessed with by @silkholland]
Steve sets down the tablet victoriously. “And…that’s all of the recruits, so let me know what else you’ll need to start the new hires on personnel benefits. We’ll meet back—“
He finally glances at the clock. It’s 6:40 pm and he’s been talking at you for two hours.
“Why didn’t you stop me? I’m sure you have to go home to…”
You offer him the same studied smile you always try to and gently shake your head. “I figured we could just push through and get this over with. That way you didn’t have to make another trip down here tomorrow.”
Steve frowns. “But someone must be waiting for you?”
Way to rub it in, Cap. “No,” you assure him, packing up your laptop and a few files in your old leather briefcase. “No one.”
“No plans? It’s Friday. Don’t people…what is it that people go out and do these days?”
“Alexis next door seemed pretty excited about a pub crawl a few hours ago. Though in another few hours she might regret that. Actually, she’s probably too young to really notice a hangover,” you joke, pushing out your chair when you’re ready to go.
He rushes to stand. “Then at least let me…offer you dinner here. You won’t have to—“
A hand up is all it takes to rein him in. “Not necessary, sir. I’ll be fine at home.”
“I’ll walk you out,” he jumps politely, opening your office door so that you have to squeeze past his beefy body into the empty hall. Everyone really has gone home.
He shoves his hands in his dark jean pockets, and you regulate your breathing as best you can all the way to the door.
“Beautiful bag,” Steve says just as you two reach the lobby.
“Oh, thank you.”
“Looks well-loved,” he adds softly, running one finger along the top seam.
Why is that so sensual? He’s touching a bag. Get it together.
You giggle nervously. “Yes, very—“ adjusting the strap closer on your shoulder “—it was my high school graduation gift. Sent me off to college like a real professional, but I guess that makes it…pretty old.” The flutter in your gut wavers your voice slightly. You can’t wait to leave.
“Still pretty though.” Steve looks you dead in the eyes, and your heart stops.
You gulp finally, breaking from the crystal clear blue gaze that holds you so softly in a make-believe universe for that split second. “Have a good night, sir.”
“Yes, ma’am.” His eyes follow your movements out. “You, too.”
Even when you’re fresh and clean, the long work day washed away, the mirror doesn’t lie. You look tired, skin duller than you remember, eyes crinkling at the corners more than before, a few additional grays dusting your temples.
It’s so stupid to think of him that way, to think he’s looking at this and seeing anything he likes more than he’d find on that gorgeous young hire the next office over or that toned and bright-eyed recruit down the hall or…well, anybody, really.
Your flesh reminds you more of the stretched and worn leather of your briefcase every day. You’ve collected more products to correct you, things designed for anti-you to no avail.
But.
Even if it’s not real, even if it doesn’t mean anything, it’s so nice to be looked at by Steve Rogers. You have to remember he’s not actually interested; he’s just a gentleman raised to be kind.
He does it again. Not right away, but a few weeks later, Steve yammers on about two dozen employee ‘incidents’ that aren’t really incidents for you to handle. You can advise him on which representatives to speak with about follow-up actions with the other agents, or techniques to facilitate healthy dialogue on the subjects, but no more. Please, no more.
5:58 pm and you swear Steve has checked the clock at least three times. He has to know he’s gone over, but he also knows you have nowhere to be and no one special. Shit. That’s pathetic. You should have hinted at some sort of life outside of work.
“Pardon the interruption,” F.R.I.D.A.Y chirps over the intercom system, “but Captain Rogers, your delivery has arrived.”
“Thank you. Be right up.”
Saved by the AI. “I’ll let you get to it,” you say, smiling and rising from your seat.
“Oh, it’s just dinner. Enough for two.” He motions you to the door like before, his gaze a hair more piercing. “I…brought the pub crawl to us, if you’d like to join me?”
The air conditioning blasts into your office like the frigid arctic, but you are sweating suddenly. You’re covered from head to toe, layered to hide all those ‘indecent’ things about the aging body that no one, young or old, likes to be reminded of. Even if you were muscular with perky curves, your skin is looser and there’s a permanent crease down your chest, the wrinkle from consistently sleeping on your side at night. Higher necklines and longer sleeves became mandatory for you five years ago.
He leads you to the elevators with a light hand at the small of your back. He’s had two dozen beers, one can or bottle of each brew, sent in with an enormous tray of finger foods. You think about adding that you don’t eat that much, though it all looks good and you’d like to eat more—you don’t want to look like a pig in front of Captain America—but he eats over 80% of the tray without batting an eye.
“Metabolism,” he shrugs when your eyes go wide at his fourth full plate.
Must be nice. “I don’t remember what one of those is like,” you quip back.
You two split each beer, and while the cups are small and Steve drinks about two-thirds of them all, you’ve consumed your own six-pack by the end. Conversation became a lot lighter at some point—maybe sample four or five?—and Steve’s thrown out some candid moments about his struggles with modern life.
You agree with him about online dating: horrid. You agree it’s difficult getting to know new people when there’s an expectation of labeling everything (or not labeling anything.) Steve would not have been a free-love hippie, it seems, if he’d been awake during the ‘60s and ‘70s. It’s difficult to know what to do or say around women for him. He says it’s easier around you.
“Maturity deflates that 'pressure to impress' pretty quickly,” you chuckle, a hiccup latched at the end. Damn, is it the alcohol or the carbonation? Maybe it’s simply because there’s no pressure to be coy around someone who can’t be interested in you? Either way, you take another bit of food and forget to worry about how your midsection looks sitting in the chair comfortably, unbuttoning the first two buttons of your blouse. That A/C isn’t helping much again.
“Another drink, ma’am, or more water?”
“Makes me feel old when you call me that.”
“I say it out of respect, but it’s also. I feel like a…a teenager around you, ya know, nervous.” He slides his hand up and down his leg, blushing.
“It's alright. I’m not going to report you for treating me with respect, Steve.”
“And if I don’t?”
It’s so quiet, you’re not sure you heard right. You take a huge swig of water to justify how loudly you swallow that feeling, that sizzling longing that creeps up like kudzu, taking over your body. Liquid coats your throat, mouth, and lips, yet you’re bone dry with nothing to reply. “Don’t do what?” Did he just threaten to not treat me with respect? As in…something disrespectful? Like…sinful?? Is it a sauna in here?
“I think you’re sexy,” Steve firmly breathes.
You snort—because what else do you do in a dream that’s so ridiculous it gave itself away?—and swirl the rest of your water around, guzzling it. You’ll need to wake up to pee soon if there’re this many fluids involved. Does beer make you dream weirdly? It must if it conjures this subconscious scene. Any minute now, you’ll wake up. You’ll see.
“That’s..uh..a little inappropriate, Captain,” you glob out between clearing your throat and squirming in your chair, “but it’s a good line.”
“I can keep them to myself, my inappropriate thoughts—“ you choke and sputter for a moment, but he continues “—if that’s what you want.” Steve leans forward over his knees, eye-level with your chest and peering up through his lashes while emphasizing a rugged, “ma’am.”
Your body vibrates off of your chair and automatically steps to add some distance between you. Part of your job is anticipating problems and conflicts before they arise, but you’re blind-sided by Steve’s attention. No, can’t be. If the blood rushing past your ears is this loud, perhaps you heard wrong?
It’s a blur of blue eyes. You’re rattled by his deep timbre, coherency drowned out by fizzy, hoppy, wheat water. The moment Steve’s chest touches yours, and he leans down, thumbing at your temple with a heated palm on your cheek, you have to close your eyes to ground yourself because nothing you’re seeing can be real.
“We’re both adults,” he whispers, the words heavy and dripping down your insides to your core. “We both want the same thing, so we should just—”
“Yes.” You cut him off, crashing your lips to his.
His other hand spreads across your hip and ass.
“Show me how to please you.”
With that, Steve uses your melting gasp as an invitation to claim your mouth.
Steve Rogers really didn’t have anything to worry about. Even without extensive sexual experience, he’s a fast learner. So attentive. You throw him a bone with some advice now and then, a pointer or two, something just to show you remember the deal.
“Most women don’t like ____.”
“Some women prefer ____.”
“Not everyone will do ____.”
Steve takes it all in stride, and he also gets better and better at listening, turning the conversation back to you. Anything he likes in bed, he’s sure to check-in if it’s alright with you. He’ll make someone (or many someones, no judgement) very happy someday.
He takes your cues on giving you space so that he won’t seem clingy to a potential girlfriend. He regularly texts to ask how your day is going or has gone. Best of all, he remains stone-cold professional at work. That makes the most sense for when this arrangement needs a clean break.
Until then, the sex is unbelievable, and it’s so freeing to not worry about keeping yourself lady-like and mysterious over the weeks. You can wake up with your puffy under eyes and tangled hair. You can sit around and read in your baggy pajamas. You don’t have to hide that you do, in fact, function like any other human. You burp, you fart, you poop and pee. Sometimes you just smell. Who cares? You aren’t gross about it, but the amount of time you save not avoiding Steve while your body happens to be a body is a lot. It’s a scary amount of time you would avoid him to appear perfect. Good god, why?
You’re spoiled now. You may never bother with a real relationship again, except you know this will end eventually.
For now, you can eat and drink whatever you want around him. You can say no to things. You can tell him when you dislike something or when you’re bored or want to be alone. You can just be yourself, and it’s awesome. You can say the bad joke and stupid puns that come to mind. You can poke fun at him and laugh at his jabs at you.
It’s awesome. Honestly, get yourself a man to inoculate from womanhood. Easy-peasy, ass, and squeezy.
His ass? Oh, yeah, because…yeah. Dat ass. It’s worthy of mention and thoroughly distracting.
You’ve even had the gumption to slap it a couple of times. Whatever. He seems to like it. No big deal.
This goes on for a few months. Your time together hasn’t escalated above texting during the week and ‘lessons’ over the weekend. Steve is…well, he’s perfect, really. He won’t need you for much longer, and you’ve made your peace with that, so you’re surprised when Steve comes to your office one Tuesday morning.
“Hey,” he starts with a smile, checking over his shoulder. “Got a minute?” He motions to shut the door.
“Sure,” you shrug, “did I forget someone’s intake today?”
“No. No, nothing like that.” Steve nervously wrings his hands. “Tony’s forcing me to take vacation. He booked this whole resort thing on an island or something.”
“Ok…you probably need it. When was the last time you took time to yourself?”
His scowl suggests that’s exactly what Tony Stark said.
“It’s this weekend.”
You startle at that. “Oh. Well, no problem it’s not like—“
“You want to come?”
Now you’re speechless. Does he think he can’t handle traveling with a significant other? Does he get irritable when away and need practice handling it?
“I know it’s last minute,” he continues, “but I’d love for you to join me. You deserve a break, too.”
You agree, and suddenly realize that you haven’t vacationed in a long time for the same reason: you didn’t want to go alone.
The place is spectacular, and how did you ever doubt when you knew Tony fucking Stark booked it?!
Steve did great on the trip out, stopped at the convenience store when you forgot your motion-sickness meds, was very patient when you couldn’t lift your bag to the overhead by yourself, and walked slower than he probably thinks is humanly possible down the long terminal to the resort shuttle. His average-joe ball cap did nothing to hinder his Greek-god stature, but you both got lucky that no one openly recognized him.
He’s been fun and playful, the perfect mix of caring and care-free. He’ll make a lovely boyfriend to someone, and you’re bubbling with excitement to tell him he’s ready.
“Ready for what?” Steve smiles at you over the dinner table in the fancy, seafood restaurant in the main hotel.
“To graduate,” you chuckle, lifting the glass to toast him.
He lifts his own glass with a confused look. “What exactly am I graduating from?”
You take another sip of champagne in triumph. Eh, so you’ve had a few glasses. Who cares? You made Steve Rogers into perfect boyfriend material, and he’ll be comfortable with himself that way from now on.
“What do I call it,” you muse, “my little School of Sexual Awakening? Ha!” You’re so funny, but you have to do better. Steve doesn’t get the joke yet. “I mean, it’s a good thing, Steve. You’re going to make someone very happy after this.”
His face drops like a stone.
“What,” he deadpans.
“I know. I know you’re probably nervous, but you really are ready. You just gotta bite the bullet and put yourself out there—“
“But…I’m with you.”
“No, like a real relationship, with someone you’re actually interested in.“
He’s silent, so silent the murmuring of other patrons seems to get sucked into the dense void of noise around his intense glare
“I’m sorry,” Steve says in a voice deeper than usual. “What do you think we’ve been doing?”
“Practicing. Getting you ready to get back out there in the modern dating world.”
“We’re…” Steve puts down his glass so carefully that his delicacy might be the thing that breaks it. “We’re not dating?”
You’re starting to think the alcohol has made you less understandable.
“Well, we…you wanted practice. You were feeling uncomfortable around women and worried about trying online dating. You didn’t want to go through a bunch of beginnings of relationships without knowing how to sustain them, right, so we…”
“Started dating because I’m comfortable with you.”
Yeah, but not like that. That’s not funny. He’s not great with the jokes yet, you remind yourself.
“Right, so there was little to no pressure because we’re both adults.”
“—fairly certain that’s still true—” His steel gaze is hardened and unwavering.
“And that since we both wanted...ya know, to feel good and less uncomfortable…then we should just…”
“Date,” he interjects.
“…fuck,” you finish. “Wait. What?”
“I was saying we should date when you kissed me.” Steve adjusts stiffly in the thin dining room chair, and hiss-whispers across the table, "have you been pity fucking me this whole time?!"
Even though you’re brain grinds to a halt, your skin crawls and your insides burn. Your legs start moving without your ok. They’re racing down the stone path to your shared hut so fast that Steve has to jog to keep up, but he has the decency not to speak until you’re both behind the closed door of the bungalow.
“You…you’ve gotten better at flirting with the girl’s in my department.” Talking with your hands doesn’t seem to be helping you process this any faster; it’s just a nice way to burn off some of this terror.
“I talk to other women, yeah.” He looks a lot calmer than you. He’s not shaking and pacing around. “It’s easier to when I can politely say I’m seeing someone. I thought I was taken. I never flirted with anyone other than—well, NOT you, apparently.”
“You’re serious???”
Steve needs to learn the finer points of a joke if he thinks this is a good one. He starts yelling back anyway.
“Why do you think I am not serious? What makes you think that’s all this was?”
“You wanted practice! You said so.”
“No,” he quits screaming, “I wished I had more practice before finding someone I wanted—” Steve blushes ferociously “—so I wouldn’t feel…unsure about…you know. We are—I mean, I thought we were dating.”
You have to laugh. “Steve, you don’t want to date me.”
“I have been for months.” He’s getting closer.
“No, but I’m…I’m…You can’t…I wouldn’t have…We were having fun. I thought I was…like a stepping stone or something.”
His arms reach out as if to grab your shoulders, but he makes no contact. “We had fun. As a couple. Why would I use you for anything else?!”
“I’m average, Steve. I’m old!”
“I’m a hundred and five.”
You slap his arms away. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
“Currently, I’m convinced I have never known what you mean.”
“It’s not funny!”
“That we can agree on,” Steve bites back.
“It’s not funny,” you repeat through tears.
“Sweetheart,” Steve tries with sympathetic eyes, “why? Did I not make you feel loved? You thought I didn’t want you? How?!”
“Because.” It’s the only word that will come out as he takes you in hand and pulls you to his chest. Everything reels around you. It’s not your fault. You were protecting yourself. You were being logical and friendly. You were helping him out. You were genuine but…completely guarded in the most important way.
“So I have a couple of essential questions.” Steve brushes his thumb over that gray patch at your temple. “Any chance you’d like to date me?” He huffs at the whine and frown drawn from you. “I should specify. This would be real dating, where neither of us is flirting with—“
You shove at his chest indignantly. He plants a kiss on your forehead in response.
“—or dating other people, and we are both actively aware that we are, in fact, dating each other. Do you want that?”
You roll your face deeper into his chest, nodding.
“Ok, and any chance that before having an actual, real-life, both-of-us-knowing-we-are-dating-each-other first date you’d agree to live in this room with me for three days?”
That earns him a real slap to the side, and eventually, several slaps to his glorious tush.
“Just because I behaved like you were every other man I know…”
“It’s cute,” he whispers, “in a slightly insulting way, but it’s cute.”
A long hug follows, one where you both lean in and hold tight. He plants another kiss to your forehead every time you snuggle further.
“Now…” Steve lets the word rumble around in his chest. He knows what that deep sound does to you. You said all women would like that, so he plans to reserve it for only you. “May I prove how much I want you, ma’am?”
If you enjoyed this work, please consider liking, commenting, and/or reblogging. Thank you for reading!
SR Taglist: @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @fallinallinmendes @im-a-slut-for-fluff
#ro answers#steve rogers#fanfic#steve rogers fic#steve x reader#steve rogers fanfiction#steve x you#fluff and feels#fluff and romance#light angst#captain america#captain america fanfiction#captain america x reader#captain america x you#older!reader#THAT'S NOT A TAG???#older reader#silver fox reader#NONE OF THOSE ARE TAGS WHHHHYYYYYY#honestly now i'm just angry#now it's gonna be a series out of pure spite
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“If that’s how painful love is, then I don’t want it”
Gon x F!reader
Gon in love with a 17 year old reader who does not return his feelings..
I will most likely make another part for this.
Gon and reader met at the hunters Exam making the reader part of the main 4 (or5)
Anyone want a Killua version ? Lmk !
He couldn’t tell what first made him follow her around, or what made him want to protect her so bad although she’s more than capable of protecting herself.
I mean he knew from Killua that he had a small crush….
But that was all…
Or not ?
However when it comes to the things he loves about her- oh he had so many !
Her humour, her personality, the way she’s always there when he needs her and those eyes…..
Oh those beautiful (eye colour) eyes….
Suddenly he felt a slap on his shoulder, turning around shocked, he saw her.
“The hell we’re you dreaming about Gon ?”
She laughed.
He giggled nervously smiling at her.
“Oh ! I was actually thinking about you !”
Of course he had to be so honest. All he thinks is that must be his tiny crush, is all. Who told him about love ? Nobody.
She raised a brow.
“Huh ? Me ? You mean when we faced the troupe ?”
She asks, clearly clueless.
He shakes his head a huge smile on his face.
“I just think you’re actually really pretty y/n !”
…..
He’s too honest.
He’s showing her how good he could treat her !
She tilted her head then gave him a sweet smile.
“Oh Gon…. You never fail to make me smile !”
She laughed, pinching his cheeks with both her hands.
She never treated him like she treated Kurapika….. or Leorio…..or even Killua ! he wanted to be treated like a man… he IS a man !
He however didn’t know what’s gotten into him. Why did he suddenly feel so tingly ?
“Y/n you make me even happier ! Thank you for being there !”
He tried showing her how good of a guy he is with his complements and sweet ways.
They don’t seem to really work on her.
She giggled and let go of his cheeks.
“You’re the little brother I never had !”
She joked like always, however this time it hit him hard…
Ouch-
All he could feel was pain in his chest.
He didn’t know why….
He smiled and nodded nonetheless.
“Yeah”
Was all he said before making up a way to get out of this situation.
“Uh-… y/n…. I eh…. I have to go..”
He spoke hesitantly, not wanting to leave her but also not wanting to let her see how his mood changed.
She tilted her head slightly puzzled.
“Huh ? Where to ?”
He didn’t want to even hear her so he spoke quickly, trying to leave as fast as possible.
“Oh yeah, I’m meeting up with killua !”
Lies.
Since when does he lie ? Usually he’s obvious, today however he sounds like a pro. Naturally she believed him.
“Alright ! See ya tomorrow !”
She said waiving bye as she made her way to her room and him to his.
“Why is she so-…. It’s painful…”
He muttered to himself, heart aching as he made his way to his shared room with Killua.
Thank God it was already late so he went straight to bed, however he couldn’t sleep. Tossing and turning for hours until he woke up killua.
Sitting up annoyed, he spoke.
“What’s up Gon ?!”
Gon looked at him confused.
“Huh ? What do you mean ?”
Killua sighed.
“You keep turning so much, why can’t you sleep ?”
Gon now also sat up putting his palm on his face.
“She’s on my mind again”
Killua raised a brow now.
“Y/n ? Again ? Did you talk today ?”
Gon nodded.
“She said I’m like the little brother she never had…”
He sighed, waiting for Killuas response.
“Oh…. Damn…. She’s-“
He thought for a moment on how to say it without breaking his best friends heart.
“Well-… not in your age range Gon…”
Looking at Gon who still had his palm pressed against his face, he sighed.
“Come on Gon…. I knew you liked her but now I think you actually Love her man-”
Killua was cut off by Gon looking up at him from his palm with big, scared eyes.
“Love…? Is this love..? Is this how bad love feels like ?”
He paused then spoke again.
“If that’s how painful love is, then I don’t want it”
Killua tried speaking but, just as he opened his mouth, he saw how tears streamed down Gons face.
Without saying a word, Gon stood up and walked out the hotel room, teary eyed.
Killua just sat there. He had no idea what to say or do to make his friend feel better.
Gon went out for a little walk to cool his mind.
She felt like his….. his everything… but he would never force her to feel the same when she clearly didn’t….
He disliked love…
Her beautiful face never left his mind.
He want’s her badly…
————————————————————
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Please one of you amazing writers out there, can you write Thomas Shelby with an older reader for a change?? She's always younger which is fine but I want to see how he is with someone older than him. Whoever does it, I love you
#thomas shelby x reader#tommy shelby x reader#cillian murphy x reader#thomas shelby x y/n#thomas shelby x oc#older reader
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