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chimcess · 4 months

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Waterlog || pjm (1)

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

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

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

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

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

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

With an annoyed sigh, he nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s great to hear,” He smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She thought for a second before replying.

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

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

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

“Drive safe. See you in a bit.”

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

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

“Love you,” She sing-songed playfully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hiding behind humor was a pastime.

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s young, ain’t he?”

I nodded, “23, I think.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dani beamed, “Daddy said the same thing.”

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

“Your dad’s a smart guy,” I joked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s starting,” Hoseok announced.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I shrugged, “Ledecky is a great swimmer.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. Night, Chika.”

“Night, Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Crystal!” They all replied in unison.

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

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

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

“Butterfly,” Jordan replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Always cutting to the chase,” He joked.

I did not laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh,” Now I was confused. “Why’d you bring it up then?”

“Because I got to thinking,” I braced myself. Ozzie was known for his big, bright, dumb, impulsive ideas. “I knew the Olympics would be asking too much of you. Cameras and interviews are the last thing you want after the fucking circus you went through last time.”

That was an understatement. Circus did not even begin to describe the absolute hell the media put me through after the accident. So many speculations and insensitive remarks managed to ruin any peace I could have gotten during that time.

While I was in a coma, no one knowing if I would ever wake up again, the news thought it wise to harass my friends and family. My old coach, Victor Stanley, was assaulted whenever he left the hospital. When news got out that Namjoon was pulled off life support, his mother and father were so sick and tired of people parked outside their house they packed up and moved away before I even woke up. I wanted nothing to do with the media after that.

“It’s a little different but I think you’d be a great fit for the job,” Ozzie continued. “One of my boys, Jimin Park, is in need of a personal coach. His mom is sick and he’s wanting to stay in Michigan for as long as he can before coming out to the Springs to start training for Paris.

“I almost called Jung, but I don’t think the two of them would get along well enough for this to work. You’re the only person I know I can trust with him, and from what I’m hearing, you’re one hell of a coach already.”

This was somehow even more nerve wracking than the assistant position. I had never trained one-on-one before, at least, not long term. I was sure I could do it, but a high schooler was very different from an Olympic athlete relying on me to keep him in shape for the season.

“What happened to Hamilton?” I asked, still unable to wrap my head around the situation. “I thought he was Park’s personal trainer.”

“He was but the two fell out when Jimin decided to stay in Michigan. You know how Matt is.”

That I did. Matthew Hamilton was a massive asshole, and that was putting it lightly. He was one of the best trainers around and got results which was why he still had a job despite his rotten attitude. I had the misfortune of running into him quite a few times over the years and my distaste only grew with each passing. I could imagine that conversation not going over particularly well.

“But what about my team?” I asked, staring at my desk. All of my plans and strategies were mapped out and I was ready to put them to use. My boys were counting on me and leaving them felt wrong. “I don’t want to leave them high and dry, Oz.”

“Ask Hoseok to cover for you,” I rolled my eyes at his blase attitude.

“This is my team.”

“And this is Jimin Park.”

I hated that I understood where he was coming from. Most of my boys would never go off to swim professionally and their skill set was not on par with anyone out right now. They were not committed to the strict regime that would take and I did not get paid well enough to justify the extra hours. Jimin, however, would pay me extremely well and I would get that experience under my belt. I might even learn a few new things to add to my own drills.

“Give me a few days to think about it,” I finally conceded. “And set up a phone call, or meeting, or something with the kid. Need to make sure we’re on the same page before we waste one another’s time.”

Ozzie laughed, “I think you’ll get along just fine, but sure. I think he’d appreciate the gesture.”

Nothing of much importance was said after that. We hung up with promises of talking soon and then I was alone once more. My office was still just as messy and swamped with paperwork as it had been before, but it all looked different. It felt like I was already gone, and a deep homesickness settled in my chest. I stared at the papers in front of me and sighed before shooting a text to Hoseok.

As I expected, everyone had told me to jump at the opportunity. Hoseok even said if I didn’t, I would be the biggest idiot he had ever met. Matilda asked if she could come (I told her no), and Dani just seemed bummed that we could not hang out anymore. Andy and Jin were the most supportive of the situation while Minho the most cautious. He was worried about the media catching wind of something and causing a frenzy. After Matila pointed out how old news I was, I felt a little less afraid of that possibility even if it was a hit to my ego.

Ozzie seemed pumped when I told him I was open to the idea if Jimin and I seemed to mesh well. I was firm in my decision to talk to him before making any concrete plans, and from what Ozzie told me, my future student was extremely receptive to the idea. I also learned that Opal was jealous of her fellow Olympian, but I tried not to let that puff up my chest.

That was why I was sitting in my home office, hair nicely styled and a light layer of makeup on waiting for Jimin to join our Zoom call. I wore blue since Ozzie said it was his favorite color, but the material was slowly driving me insane. While the color was nice, deep blue and sparkled whenever the light hit it, it was scratchy and irritated the skin around my chest and shoulders. I almost got up to change but a small icon with the letters ‘JP’ in the center popped up before I could.

“Hello?” A soft voice called out.

“Hey,” I replied with an awkward wave. “Can you see me?”

“Yeah, can you see me?”

I shook my head, “Just your icon.”

Cursing under his breath, Jimin apologized for the tech issues. I adored how nice he was to listen to. It was unique, gentle and raspy, but also feminine in its softness. There was no bass or hardness, every sound and syllable light and airy with self-depreciating laughter after every insult he threw at himself. Apparently, Jimin was not great with technology and always had a difficult time with cyber meetings.

“This is fine with me,” I tried to reassure him. “I don’t need to see your face to talk.”

“No,” He agreed, “But it’s a little awkward for you to have your camera on and mine’s off.”

I could hear him clicking around. “I’ll turn mine off, too, if that helps.”

He shut that down immediately and continued clicking and typing. After a few more minutes, he found his problem. Then the icon was gone and there he was.

His face was round, his cheeks plump, and chin soft. The first thing I noticed about him was his lips. They were rounded and plump like a baby duck with a soft, heart shaped cupid’s bow that led up a small, button nose. Everything about his face was soft except his eyes which were almond shaped and flicked outwards like a cat’s. His hair was pitch black and parted down the middle, framing his face and making his pale skin look like snow. When he caught a glimpse of himself in the camera a large smile took over his face and I felt the wind get knocked out of me.

“Can you see me?” He asked.

I nodded, “Yeah, I think we’re in the clear.”

Neither one of us knew what to say for a moment. He swirled around in his chair in search of his water bottle. He stood up, excusing himself for a moment. He was also wearing a blue shirt, a pair of black pants, and seemed just as nervous as I did. He left the room while I sat and thought about him.

There was one word to describe Jimin: pretty. His soft lines and tiny waist made him look so much smaller than I had imagined him. All of the years seeing him on the tv did nothing to compare to watching him walk around a little room in his home. Without a cap and goggles, Jimin was angelic, and I felt uneasy. How was I supposed to work with someone I found this attractive?

“Sorry,” He was back now, a large Yeti cup in hand. “I should’ve made sure I had this already.”

“No worries. I’m not in any rush.”

He sat back down, and I finally noticed the large oval necklace he was wearing. I did not know what it could mean to him, but I had seen him with it a few times at events. It was simple and silver, no gem in the center of the pendant, and sat directly over his heart. He took a sip from his cup, snapping me back to action.

“How’s your mother doing?” I asked. “Ozzie told me she wasn’t well.”

His expression saddened me, and I hated that I brought it up. I knew how much I did not enjoy talking about Namjoon’s death, and while his mother was still alive, she was not well. Unfortunately, I could not take the question back.

“I’m not sure how much you know,” He started, leaning back in the leather computer chair. “She has melanoma and isn’t doing chemotherapy anymore. I’m staying in Michigan so I can spend as much time with her as possible.”

My heart ached for him and his family. Cancer had a reputation for ripping families apart and I could only imagine how this was affecting the young swimmer. My own grief was long and drawn out, guilt and shame hanging over my head for years before I was finally able to let it go, but the death itself was swift. Joon was dead and buried before I woke up from the coma, but I could recall every detail of that hospital room when Victor told me what happened. I hated to think about watching the life slip from him, knowing he would die, and knowing there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

“I understand. I’m really sorry to hear that.”

I knew it was inadequate, but I did not know this man well enough to say my thoughts out loud. Maybe later, after a few weeks of training together, I could get the courage to let him know I would be there if he needed someone to talk to. I knew all about navigating grief and I would happily help him stay motivated through this horrible, tragic time. Jimin stayed quiet so I took it upon myself to get the ball rolling again.

“I know you’re going through a difficult time right now, and I just want you to know that I get it and I see you. If we work together, I will make sure your mental health comes first. Whatever you need, whatever your family needs, will always come before getting in the pool.

“You were working with Hamilton before this, and whatever happened between you two- I don’t know, that’s none of my business, but I can promise you I will try my best to make sure our professional relationship doesn’t reach that point. Just tell me what’s up and I’ll make it work.”

Jimin smiled a small, sad smile that paled in comparison to that blinding show of teeth earlier. My eyes could not help their roaming and I felt guilty. There was a chance we would be working together, and I could not feel this way about him if that time came. I could only hope that if we did decide to move forward with this arrangement, any affections I could have for him would get buried. I would have to talk to Hoseok about this.

“I have to take her to appointments once a week,” He replied, voice small and eyes staring at something off camera. “She’s not getting her chemo anymore but still goes to see her doctor often to manage symptoms as best she can. She also has a dance class every Sunday morning and I will be going with her.”

I nodded, “I can live with that. As long as you’re still putting in work you can take your mom anywhere.”

He took a deep breath and finally looked at the camera again. The vulnerability I found there took me off guard. Jimin must be someone who wears their emotions on their sleeve, and I would have to learn to nurture that. Namjoon always told me I needed to work on being more sensitive to others, a skill I had yet to master.

“Matt didn’t like how much time I spent out of the pool. I understand where he’s coming from but I’m hoping we can come up with a training schedule that works well for the both of us. I feel bad enough pulling you away from your life, and I don’t want my personal shit to bleed into what you’re going through.”

It was a kind gesture, one I appreciated, but he needed to get over it. I told him in so many words that I was happy to help him.

“Trust me,” I said. “If I didn’t want to do this then we wouldn’t be talking.”

Jimin seemed to like my bluntness and I was fond of his over-analytical anxiety. The way he fidgeted reminded me of Namjoon, his forward and direct confrontation of his emotions and needs so strikingly similar it made it nearly impossible for me to dislike him. I don’t think a person alive could dislike this man.

“I can be in Ann Arbor next week,” Jimin had gone on another rant about inconveniencing me and I shut it down. “Everything here is already squared away. We can discuss it more later, how does that sound?”

He smiled wearily, his nerves causing him to squirm in his seat.

“I’m really looking forward to working with you, Y/N.”

I hoped my expression looked as sincere as I felt, “I’ll take care of you, kiddo.”

Pulling a face, Jimin laughed heartily. Triumphant, I smiled brazenly, his laughter contagious. I made a note to pull out a few age jokes now and then if it meant making him smile like that.

“I’m an adult man, I’ll have you know,” He was still laughing.

“Could’ve fooled me,” I teased.

“We’re going to get along just fine,” He seemed more confident than ever, and it warmed my heart. “Let me know when you’re expected to get here. Do you have my number?”

We exchanged our contact details. After days of talking over email, I finally found a smiley face emoji in my notifications, a Michigan area code attached. Saving his number, I replied with the old woman emoji earning myself another laugh.

“Talk to you later, Park.”

“See you, coach.”

I left the meeting, my chest much lighter after talking to him. He was a sweet man and not half bad to look at. I was a few years older but not disgustingly so, and he was more than available from the sound of things. Realizing the direction my thoughts were going in, I stood up from the chair to start writing out some drills and scheduling prototypes. Before I could get out of the door, however, my phone vibrated in my hand.

Jimin: 👶

I did not respond until I had my flight booked.

Me: I’m flying in on Tuesday. Know a good place to stay?

He replied a few minutes later.

Jimin: Do you need a lot of space?

Me: Not really

Jimin: One of my neighbors has their mother-in-law suite for rent. I could probably cut you a good deal with them.

I smiled. He really was a sweetheart.

Me: Thank you. And no deals. I can pay for myself.

Jimin: My mother would be very upset if I didn’t at least try.

Jimin: I was raised to respect the elderly.

I laughed out loud, thoroughly amused. I had a feeling he was testing the waters after I poked fun at him earlier. Jimin was probably used to the stick stuck up Hamilton’s ass. He was in for a treat. At the pool I was cool and collected but I could cut up with the best of them.

Me: Sorry, couldn’t hear you over the sound of my hip breaking

I was practically giddy with excitement waiting for his response. It had been such a long time since someone joked around with me like this. Hoseok tried but he was awful at taking a joke, so I stopped poking the bear. It was refreshing and all too familiar.

Jimin: I’ll get you one of those life alerts just in case.

Was he flirting with me? Did I care? Shrugging, I went along with it. I would remain strictly professional while we worked together, but if things developed after that I would let them. Happily. I barely knew this guy, but I remember this feeling. It was the first time since Joon’s death that it showed itself to me and I wanted to hold onto it.

First work then play, I told myself.

Who knows? This little bit of infatuation could fade just as quickly as it came, and I would leave Ann Arbor with a new friend instead. Might even be able to score a steady job with the kid if things worked out. My life in Colorado would remain untouched, my friends happily accepting a new kid in the group when he came to visit, and my house just as bare and empty as it always had been. The years continuing to pass me by.

I tried not to think about why that thought made me want to cry.

“I told you I’m fine,” I sighed into the phone, waiting at the baggage claim for my things. “You’re in rare form today.”

Andrea laughed, the sound slightly hysterical and I winced. That was the wrong thing to say, but she was driving me insane. I had traveled around the world multiple times, and she was acting like Michigan was going to kill me.

“Well excuse me for worrying,” Andy bit back, her tone clipped and harsh.

“I’m sorry,” I heaved one of my bags off the conveyor belt. “I know you’re just looking out for me, but I promise you I’m fine Andrea. You’ll be my first phone call if that changes.”

The other bag finally popped up and I quickly snatched it. Slinging the large duffle bag over my shoulder, I adjusted it until it rested comfortably on my shoulders. Lifting the handlebar off my large suitcase, I drug it behind me while I followed the signs for the exit. Jimin said he arranged for someone to pick me up but did not specify who. He was busy with a few interviews this morning and could not get me himself. He had been very disappointed about it.

“I know I’m nagging,” Andy groaned. “Scratch that. I’m acting like a total helicopter parent.”

I laughed, “Your husband had been even worse. The man tried to book me a charter flight because he was worried about my leg in an airport. What the fuck does that even mean?”

Everyone had been super happy for me, especially my team. Those boys almost cried when I told them who I was helping out and Jordan begged me to bring him back something autographed. None of them seemed as familiar with my own background but I was fine with that. All of them took to Hoseok rather well, except for Marcus who made me swear to come back before school let out. I did not tell them I was planning to make monthly trips to give Jimin some space with his mom. I was sure that surprise would go over very, very well.

Despite his indifference when I was first talking about the job, Seokjin became an overprotective dad as soon as I made him aware my flights were booked. He was quick to cancel them and put in a few calls of his own. Jin was an operations manager for Delta airlines and knew plenty of pilots. He was able to get me a plane to land in Willow Run out in Ypsilanti, but I quickly intervened and told him a normal flight was perfect. I rebooked my tickets and flew into Detroit Metro at 10 am.

Andy snorted, “He means well.”

It was snowing in Michigan, and I was finally hit with the realization that I would be seeing far more of it here than I ever did back in Colorado. It was only mid-September, so it was still light and melted away quickly. I would have to ask Jimin if it stayed this calm into December, but I had a feeling things would pick up by late November.

It was a very cold morning in Detroit, and I was excited to get into a heated car. Getting off the phone with Andy, I quickly sent Jimin a quick text message letting him know I was outside and looking for my ride. A loud honk made my jump, almost dropping my phone in the process.

Pulled up at the curb was a navy-blue Volkswagen Beetle. I could tell from its body that it was an older model, and it was a convertible. Sitting behind the wheel was a little old lady, a pair of gardening gloves on her hands and a pair of large, hexagon sunglasses taking up most of her face. Her face was familiar, and it hit me. Sitting behind that wheel was Jimin’s mother.

She smiled at me and waved, beckoning me closer to the little car. I forced myself to smile back. My nerves made it feel damn near impossible, but I managed. Opening the door, I did not know where to put my things. The backseat was so small.

“There’s a lever on that side that’ll push it up. You should be able to get everything to fit if you try hard enough.”

Fumbling around, I finally found the little handle and pulled up. The seat lurched forward, folding in on itself, and I clumsily shoved my suitcase into the backseat. It smelled like stale cigarettes and fake pine, but when you had a car this old it usually had history. I was excited to pick up my new car from the dealership. My Porsche already had a difficult time driving around Colorado and I did not think it would survive the heavy winters in Michigan, so I decided to leave it home and get an Altima. I had the money and could easily get rid of it. Tilly had been talking about needing an upgrade.

Finally managing to get both bags into the backseat, I put the seat back and got into the car. Closing the door, I sighed in content. The heaters were at full blast and pointed directly at my cold face. Buckling my seatbelt, I leaned back and tried to relax after the long day of flying. Jimin’s mother pulled off the curb.

“It’s cold out there,” She laughed, her voice just as sickeningly sweet as her son’s. “Glad you were able to make it okay.”

I nodded, “I’m surprised to see it snowing so early. We don’t usually get anything until closer to Thanksgiving.”

“Colorado, right?” I could hear a faint accent and I remembered that Jimin was first-generation Korean American. Both of his parents moved to the states before he and his brother were born. Media outlets loved talking about it, but I was not sure how much he enjoyed discussing his personal life. While he came off as a sweet and mild-mannered man, he kept his personal life private. “I’ve heard it’s very pretty.”

“It is. Too expensive, but very, very pretty.”

Then she was fiddling around with the radio, and I finally cracked a genuine smile. I was not sure how much work had been done on her car, but I was positive the sound system had been completely redone. A brand-new radio, complete with a touch screen and Bluetooth, lit up at the touch of her fingers. A man’s voice serenaded us through the updated speakers, and I was in awe at how beautiful it sounded. I assumed he was speaking Korean and Jimin’s mother sang along fluently.

“What’s your name again?” She asked once the song was over. Another, more upbeat song started, and she increased the volume. “Jimin told me but I’m horrible with that sort of thing. I’m Na-Yeon, but Audrey works if it’s easier for you.”

I pulled a face, “Audrey?”

“It’s my American name. It’s easier for people to pronounce and more convenient. All of us have one. Jimin’s is Christian.”

It was odd to think about. A name that was mine but not mine. Christian did not suit Jimin, but I could imagine growing up with a name that other people made fun of would be difficult. Maybe even impossible. Still, I did not feel comfortable calling the woman Audrey. She did not seem to particularly care for the name and I did not want to alienate myself from their circle for convenience's sake.

Namjoon’s mother had been similar to Na-Yeon, always afraid her culture and customs would make me uncomfortable or burdened, but I managed to calm her fears and reassure her after years of showing up to Chuseok with a smile on my face and food in my hands.

“I like Na-Yeon,” I finally replied, voice small. “It’s nice. I’m Y/N.”

“I like Y/N,” She echoed back to me, making me grin. “It’s nice.”

It was a long drive filled with K-pop, ballads, and sporadic conversation. Na-Yeon was very funny. She sang along to every song, dancing as she went, and calling on me to sing alone. Of course, I could not speak Korean very well and hummed the melodies instead, but it appeased her. When she did speak to me it was to ask me questions about myself.

“You’re that swimmer, aren’t you?” She asked, sparing me a look once we stopped at a redlight. “The one everyone’s trying to beat.”

I shook my head, “At one time, sure, but not anymore. I’m retired.”

Squinting her eyes at me, Na-Yeon pursed her lips.

“We used to watch you. Haru called you a mermaid.”

That was not too much of a shock. Jimin was swimming at that time. While I am a few years older than him, he would have been in middle school when I went to my first Olympics. He had told me he joined the swim team the year before. He said that watching Michael Phelps win 6 gold medals changed his life forever, and I could not help but agree with him. I had a huge amount of respect for my fellow Olympian and wished him well in his retirement. What shocked me the most was the mention of Jimin’s little brother. The dead brother.

“That’s sweet,” I did not know what to say. “I felt like a mermaid back then. I’m not that good anymore but I still like to swim sometimes.”

“You were in an accident,” It was not a question. “We saw it all over the news. Couldn’t believe all of those people harassing your family like that. So sorry for your loss.”

It was strange to talk about it again. I appreciated her keeping it vague. I had gone through a tremendous amount of change and growth since then, but it was nice to hear someone else validate how crazy the media frenzy was. I would not wish it upon anyone, and I was happy her family was allowed to grieve in peace. Neither Namjoon’s nor my own were allowed that luxury.

“Thank you,” I replied. “I’m sorry about Haru. I can’t imagine what your family went through.”

She smiled sadly, “I think you can.”

We did not talk much after that. The music still played, Na-Yeon still sang, and I still hummed, but we did not ask any more questions. Neither one of us wanted to bring up those hurt feelings. It was not until we turned down a long, empty road that I realized I had yet to ask her about her cancer.

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked.

“As good as I can,” She breathed. “My boys are both worriers so don’t take anything they say to heart. Bunch of hypochondriacs.”

And even though I laughed along with her, I knew that she was lying. They were not overreacting. She was sick, refusing treatments, and letting herself die. Anyone would be worried about her. Na-Yeon must dislike being taken care of. Well, I thought she would need to get used to it. I loved spoiling others.

“Eloise and the kids must be here,” She muttered to herself, pulling to a short driveway.

I did not know who Eloise was, but I would soon find that out. There were two cars parked out front. One was a simple, black Tahoe with a brightly colored steering wheel cover. The other was another vintage model. Painted a pretty light, muted green the truck was in pristine condition. It was an old Ford, the branding written across the tailgate, and a spare tire was bolted to the side. I asked Na-Yeon about it and she smiled happily.

“It’s Jimin’s,” I felt my heart rate increase. “He must’ve gotten back. Pretty thing, huh?”

I nodded, not really paying attention to the truck anymore. I was about to meet Jimin for the first time and my nerves were taking over. I knew how much his looks affected me over video chat and I was afraid I would not be able to control my facial expressions in person. I was resolute not to act on whatever attraction I may have felt toward him. My professionalism would not allow it. It did not mean, however, that I wanted to discuss it with Jimin at any point. It would make him uncomfortable and affect our working environment.

“Keep your bags in the car,” Na-Yeon told me. “Jimin’s going to take you over to meet the Andersons this afternoon.”

Walking up to the house, I was first struck by two things. The main one being the impressive teal it was painted and the other the loud talking and laughter coming from inside. It was odd. Thinking about my own parents I knew we had never been so happy. Mom had left when I was so young that I could hardly remember her, but I could recall the screaming and shouting. Dad was quiet after she left, spent most of his time locked away in the garage watching sports channels and leaving me to my own devices.

When I started swimming it helped for a time, but when I was old enough to leave, we spoke two or three times a year. After he met Danielle, his new wife, he stopped reaching out altogether. The accident had spooked him enough to warrant holiday and birthday calls for a time, but when he had another baby those slowly faded away. My half-sister and I had never met, Danielle did not like acknowledging that my dad had a child with another woman, and it seemed as though my dad was fine with how things turned out. I dealt with it.

The laughing echoed through the house, and I could hear loud foot-steps pitter pattering on the tile floors. The house smelled heavily of kimchi and lemons making my heart ache. Joon and I used to keep the windows open for days after his mother came over to make kimchi with him. We would squat on the floor for hours, laughing and talking. I missed those days more than I realized and I smiled involuntarily. For the first time in years, it felt like coming home.

“Sorry about the smell,” Na-Yeon whispered to me.

I shook my head and took my shoes off. “I love kimchi.”

She smiled brightly, her shoulders immediately relaxing. I was glad I had spent so much time with Namjoon and his family. Na-Yeon was someone who wanted to make others feel more comfortable even if it put her own peace at risk, but I would never ask her to change her routine for me. I loved learning about other people and her little house brought me more happiness than I thought possible.

“Sounds like we have company!”

A short, stocky man came into the living room. He was wearing a white polo shirt and khaki shorts; his hair was very short with silver streaks starting to take over the once very black strands. Catching sight of me he smiled.

“You must be Y/N,” The man said. “I’m James.”

His accent was much thicker than Na-Yeon’s and he introduced himself in his English name. He seemed much happier about it than his wife did, and I decided to go along with it. If he wanted me to call him James, then I would.

“Nice to meet you,” I replied, giving him a small bow.

His smile got even bigger somehow, and he returned the gesture. Na-Yeon chuckled beside me and started to speak to her husband in Korean. I picked up a few words and deduced that he was supposed to make sure I was going to get a nice lunch, and she wanted to know if he had taken care of it. He nodded and told her he had.

“Hungry?” James asked, Na-Yeon already disappearing into the house.

“Yes,” I quickly followed behind him.

“I made jjigae,” He frowned. “I can’t say it in English. Sorry.”

The house was small and warmly lit. Cream tile flooring, exposed wood beams, and white walls. Whatever loud conversation they had been having before I got here had died down, but the footsteps did not. I could hear children giggling somewhere in the little home and my curiosity peaked. I did not think they were Na-Yeon and James’s.

“I want to say it’s soup,” I kept my voice down not wanting to make him feel awkward. “Or stew, but I don’t think it matters that much.”

“What’s the difference?” James asked, just as amused as his wife at my vague knowledge of Korean words. “Soup and stew the same, no?”

I shrugged, “I have no clue. I’m a miserable cook.”

That made James laugh. We passed all of the rooms in the house, the kitchen, living room, and dining room all in the back of the house. As we passed the second room to the left, James said it had been Haru’s photography studio before he passed away, but they ended up converting it once Eloise gave birth. He did not say it out loud, but I had gathered the kids running around had been their youngest son’s. I did not know how old Haru had been when he died, but it was far too young to be having children. I was 31 and still felt ill equipped for the job.

It was a small kitchen with very simple and plain colors. The countertops were obviously laminate, but someone had taken the time to stick on a marble patterning to make it look nicer. Black appliances clashed with the chestnut cabinets. The tiles were no longer cream but hideous black and white checker printed that clashed heavily against the olive-green backsplash. While the rest of the house seemed to go through renovations at some point, I had a feeling the kitchen remained largely untouched.

Sitting at a small table on the other side of the room were Na-Yeon, Jimin, and a young woman. She was a cute girl, long brown hair and blue eyes, a large number of freckles across her cheeks. Her outfit was very modest, a pair of flowy cream pants and an equally flowy olive shirt. Her hair was tied back with a ribbon that matched her pants, and taking a closer look at her, she wore no makeup. A classic girl next door.

“Come sit,” Na-Yeon waved me over, her voice showing no room for argument. “Hyun-Soo is in charge of lunch.”

I was only briefly confused, the name completely unfamiliar, but by the time I sat down I was sure she was talking about James. It made sense for her to call him by his Korean name, and since I had shown no qualms about using their proper names, she saw no need to bring them up herself.

“Nice to finally meet you,” Jimin’s sweet voice reached me, and I smiled at the sound. “I hope getting here wasn’t too bad.”

He reached out to me, and I happily took his hand in my own. The skin was soft, perfectly smooth, and warm. It was over far too quickly but my displeasure was easily hidden. Andrea always complained about my poker face and how difficult it was to get past it. She said it was too good and thus refused to ever play poker with me again.

“It was nice,” I meant it. Na-Yeon was wonderful company.

“Hope the concert was nice.”

That made me and Eloise laugh. Na-Yeon smacked Jimin’s arm playfully, unable to keep the smile off her face, and the two began to bicker. Having them in the same room highlighted the differences I hadn't noticed before. Jimin’s nose was closer to his father’s, his eyes, too, and both of them had a slight lisp. Na-Yeon’s teeth were perfectly white and straight while one of Jimin’s front teeth was slightly chipped. Jimin had a dimple; his mother had none. Their English soon turned to digs in Korean and I could no longer follow. A few words here and there but nothing substantial. James joined them.

“Hi,” Eloise shyly greeted me, obviously used to being left out of conversations.

“Hey,” I replied lamely. “Eloise?”

She nodded, “Cam and Harper are playing but you’ll meet them in a bit.”

I nodded along and cemented the names into memory. It would look bad if I forgot them and kids had an ability to remember the worst things about a person. I did not want them to dislike me this quickly. Their giggles and feet were still going, and I suspected they had their own rooms on top of the little playroom in the hall.

“What do you do for work?” I asked Eloise, hoping my attempts at small talk were going over well. The other three were still chatting and I stopped paying attention long enough to be completely lost. Their dialect was different from Namjoon’s family, and I gave up entirely once they switched in and out of it with ease.

“I’m taking over Audrey’s restaurant,” Eloise, it seemed, preferred to use their American names. I wondered if she called Jimin ‘Christian.’ I really did not like the name for him. Not at all. “We used to be co-owners but she’s preparing for…” Eloise’s eyebrows scrunched together as she struggled to come up with a way to voice her thoughts, “her next steps. You know what I mean?”

I nodded. It was so easy to forget why I was really here when Na-Yeon was so full of life. She laughed and joked easily, sang off-key in the car without a care in the world, and called the shots at home. I had hardly noticed any sickness, but I knew better. I already figured out she hated being cared for and our trip in the car could have taken a lot of her. More than I realized.

Wanting to change the subject, I asked about the kids. Eloise was more than happy to talk about her little ones. Cameron and Harper were twins, names that she had originally been very against but when she lost Tony (Haru preferred his American name, Anthony, and all of his closest friends called him Tony), her opinions changed. Harper was the bigger, older baby, while her brother needed to stay in the NICU for a few days after birth due to his weight. They were joined at the hip and rarely seen without the other, something Eloise was happy about given she was usually too busy to spend as much time with them as she would have liked.

“How old are they?” I asked.

“Almost 4.”

Jimin was 19 then. I shuddered to think about how old Haru was, or Eloise for that matter when they became parents. When I was their age, I had been at the top of my game, though not what I would call my prime. If I had gotten pregnant my career would not have been over, but meeting Joon never would have happened. That was a travesty regardless of how things turned out. Trying to picture a life without him touching it made me physically ill and so I pushed any of those thoughts away.

Cam and Harper came out of their room when dinner was ready. They were both very cute, loud, and dressed identically. Harper’s hair was braided down her back while Cam’s was in a bowl cut, and I laughed every time the little girl made a big show about her sparkly red shoes.

James made a very spicy fish stew. It was delicious, so salty and hot, but I needed multiple glasses of water as I ate. He used red snapper adding a sweet, nutty flavor to the otherwise savory dish and I loved the zucchini. Like many Korean meals there was an array of side dishes surrounding the large pot of stew. Tonight was braised potatoes, steamed eggplant, a radish salad, and, of course, kimchi. A small bowl of rice was given to all of us to eat the stew with and the rice cooker was filled if any of us wanted more.

The Parks were a lovely family. Jimin was quiet and did not talk to me much but his mother more than made up for his silence. After getting all of the details about my coaching job she moved on to my life back in Colorado. We talked about my friends and what they were like, my house, and even my neighbors. Na-Yeon seemed particularly interested in Hoseok since Jimin had been such a fan of his growing up.

“You need to get her over to Calvin and Violet’s,” James told his son, scraping up the last bit of the soup out of his bowl. “They’re expecting her soon.”

Jimin looked at me, eyebrow raised, “Are you ready?”

I nodded, “We can leave whenever you’re done.”

He smiled and went back to eating his meal. Eloise left before I did, Cam was tired and Harper was bored without her playmate, so she decided it was time they went home. Cam liked an afternoon nap still, but his sister could run all day if you let her. Harper gave me a big bear hug before she left, something Na-Yeon said she did to everyone, and held her brother’s hand on their way out.

Na-Yeon eventually got up from the table, James followed after her, leaving Jimin and I alone. I did not know what to say, if he wanted me to say anything at all. He had hardly spoken to me since I arrived, and it left me feeling out of place. I was here for him, and he wanted nothing to do with me. He kept eating, the spice unfazed him, and getting bowl after bowl of rice.

Watching him walk around I was struck by how short he was. Most male swimmers were huge, well over 6 feet, and broadly built. Not Jimin. He could not be any taller than 5’9” with a thin, tiny waist. I could see defined muscles hidden underneath his white t-shirt, but nothing spectacular. Even his body was soft and elegant, moving gracefully and quietly, and absolutely none of it would give away that he was a world-class athlete. As if he could feel my eyes following him, Jimin’s eyes snapped to meet my own.

“Sorry,” He pulled his spoon from his mouth. “I’m sure you’d like to leave and here I am gorging myself.”

I stopped him before he could stand, “No, no. I’m fine. I was just thinking about your workout routine.”

The lie felt heavy on my tongue, but I could hear how natural it sounded. He sat back down and took another bite of his food. His workout regime was standard for most swimmers. Pull-ups, bench, squat, lunge, power cleans, power cleans to overhead press. After that he was in the pool for a few hours before going about his day. He usually added in another swim at the end of the day, but he had recently given it up to have dinner with his family.

“What are you doing for your core?” I asked.

“I stick to pull ups, crunches, thrusts, and back extensions.”

I nodded, frowning, gears in my head turning. I have always believed the core was the most important part of swimming. Arms as well, but I have seen many overwork those muscles and lose from weak turns. Hoseok used to joke about my performance and how I only won because of my turns. I would make sure he would be able to see a little bit of me in Jimin’s swimming. There was a reason I won gold.

“You don’t look very impressed.”

I chuckled, “Just thinking. You need more variety than that.”

“Gym snob, are we?” His mouth stretched into a playful smirk, and I could not help but smile back. “You must be an animal in there.”

“I don’t work out like I used to,” I admitted, averting my eyes. “Most of my exercises are yoga and running now. I swim twice a week.”

I was hoping to get back in the pool more often, but I was not sure I was ready for the disappointment that would follow. My sessions with Emery were simple, exercise-focused, and had little to no expectations behind them. They were there to help me gain strength and confidence in myself. Saturdays were spent with Hoseok doing laps around the pool and shooting the shit. It was just enough to get your heart pumping but never went past that.

Failing was daunting. I could not remember a time before swimming consumed my life. My dad always said I was afraid of the water; it was the biggest reason he placed me in lessons. He did not have the time (nor patience) to teach me himself, and after I saw younger children getting into the pool I was determined to act like a “big girl.” I was only three at the time, so the memory was lost to time, but I went every week after that. It gave my dad a break and I had friends for the first time. I learned later that mom had left for a few months and dad was drinking again, but at the time all I knew was that I liked swimming, and I was good at it.

It was frightening to believe that all of the time, energy, and hard work went to waste. 30 seconds. That was all it took to destroy my life. 30 seconds and all of my joy, love, and happiness was gone. My career, my health, and my Joon. I hated the man who hit us. Hated the way his family cried for me. For him. For Joon. Squeeze my hands into fists, I was glad they were hidden underneath the table. Getting in the water and realizing it was truly over would only make that hatred worsen, and my therapist told me I needed to let go of my anger.

“Violet and Calvin are excited to meet you,” I did not know if Jimin could see something in his face, perhaps my eyes, but he changed the subject. The look on his face made me feel exposed. “We should get going.”

No one was around when I left so I did not get to say goodbye, but Jimin yelled that we were leaving. We did not get a response and I wondered if his mother had actually gone to do laundry or take a nap. She looked tired when she left the table. Jimin told me to get into the truck and laughed when I said I could grab my own bags.

“Your hip might give out, granny.”

Off guard, a strange, loud noise came out of my mouth. He had yet to start up our playful banter and my heart soared. Jimin was a very cheeky man, his tongue sharp, and with a quick snapback time, he was difficult to take down. Our text exchanges were always brief and about work, but he managed to squeeze in at least one teasing comment about my age. He said calling him ‘kiddo’ is what started the whole thing.

“Just get in the truck,” He sighed melodramatically, rolling his eyes.

Huffing, I went across the lawn and got into the unlocked truck on the curb. The interior was just as refurbished as the exterior. The bench was covered in a dark green vinyl, and I could tell the rubber carpet mats were new. It smelled much better in Jimin’s truck. Less like cigarettes and more like the cologne he wore. It was floral, powdery, but with a subtle spice that made it bitter-sweet. It had a nice scent. It suited a man like Jimin whose own spice was buried underneath his pretty visage.

Watching him jog across the yard, I suppressed a sigh. It was easier to ignore how pretty he was when we were around other people. Now it felt impossible. His clothes stuck to him like a second skin, the black leather pants (which I had only just noticed were leather) making his thighs bulge and accentuating his backside. He was gorgeous and I felt sorry that I would have to keep it to myself. Jimin deserved to be told things like that, but it was not my place to do so. Not as a coach, trainer, or otherwise.

He tossed my things into the cab of the truck as if they weighed nothing. Arms lifted; his shirt rose revealing a delicious patch of skin. Watching him in the rearview mirror, I swallowed audibly. A thin, almost nonexistent patch of hair touched his belly button. Forcing myself to look away, I took a few deep breaths.

This trip was going to be long. Very, very long.

The drive down the road was quiet. Jimin’s radio was out, and he needed to replace it, so music was not an option, and he did not seem to want to fill the space between us. Neither did I. My growing bashfulness around him was distracting and strange. I had always been surrounded by attractive men, all of my friends back home were very good looking, but none affected me in the same way Jimin had. Perhaps it was due to my relationship with Namjoon that made all of the other men pale in comparison, but I could never know for sure. Either way, it was incredibly frustrating.

We drove for less than ten minutes. Calvin and Violet were the elderly couple renting out the small house in their backyard. Jimin had spoken to them for me, and they were all too willing to help me out. Violet nearly cried when I told her I was going to pay all of my rent up front, and actually did when I told her that I would help her fix up some things around the house while I was in town. The Andersons seemed like lovely people, and I was happy to know them.

Pulling up to the house I smiled. It was exactly how I imagined it would be. The Anderson house was a simple, All-American home with a front porch. The window trimming was black, house white, and a beautiful garden wrapped around the front at either side. The roof and front door were the same color green as Jimin’s truck, and it helped the otherwise unnoteworthy home feel more inviting. Sitting on the porch swing was Violet, her silver hair braided down her shoulder.

“Before we get out,” Jimin mumbled, waving at Violet through my window. The old woman waved back, a large smile on her face making her look twenty years younger. “The Andersons are great people, but Calvin’s starting to forget stuff. Violet won’t admit it but it’s getting hard on her to deal with him. He can become very angry so keep an ear out. Last time he had an episode, Violet called my dad crying. She’s not handling it well.”

I frowned, my heart hurting, “Sure thing. I’ll let you know if anything happens.”

“Thanks.”

He was out of the car a few seconds later, voice so sweet and bubbly you would have never guessed what we had been talking about. Staring after him, my eyes squinted. I would have to keep my eye on him. Jimin was a great actor.

Getting out of the truck, I took out my bags and slung my duffle on my back. Jimin was quick to take my suitcase away once he caught me in the corner of his eye. Violet seemed positively giddy about it and made a few inappropriate comments about Jimin needing to settle down.

“I’m just saying,” She laughed when Jimin scoffed, face flushing the prettiest shade of pink. “You’re going to make a young woman very happy. Might as well get started.”

It was strange to think about my trainee seeing someone. He had made it very clear in his interviews over the years that his dating life was on hold until he was finished swimming. He did not want the added distraction and his family life was far too chaotic for him to focus on someone. This did not seem to deter Violet and her comments about his love life, or lack thereof, continued until we got inside of the house.

“Well,” Violet acknowledged me for the first time since I arrived, “This is the main house. It’s not much but it’ll work. Christian, take her stuff out back.”

I cringed. It really did not suit Jimin at all, but he seemed completely unfazed. Violet used his names interchangeably, sometimes calling him Jimin and other times Christian, but his English name rolled off her tongue more often than not. I wondered why she even bothered calling him Jimin at all. He did not seem to care either way.

Looking around the little house, I was pleasantly surprised by how clean it all was. The floors were carpeted and the walls a bright white, family photos hung up alongside landscape paintings. During my two-hour phone call with Violet, the woman talked my ear off, she bragged about Calvin’s art. I had to admit they were all very beautiful and I wanted to know where he had found all of the slices of heaven he captured. I hoped the places themselves were more colorful than he depicted. The muted washes of color made them blend in with the rest of the boring house even with how nice they were.

The furniture was just as boring as the house itself. All of it was cream or beige, nothing of importance really stuck out to me, and I was disappointed. All I could figure out about the couple was one was an artist and they had children and grandchildren they loved displaying. Even the smell of the house lacked character. No air freshener, no food, and no perfumes. Nothing to give away that people actually lived here. The Anderson home was a foil to the Park’s in every way.

“Come on out back,” Violet was already across the house, standing in front of a door beside the kitchen. “This is the utility room. You can do your laundry here.”

Following behind her, I felt even more depressed looking at her kitchen. It was nice, new appliances and a pretty coffee station on the corner closest to the utility room door, but it was bland. All white cabinets, white marble countertops, and stainless steel everything. Even the curtains hanging around the windows above the sink were dreadfully plain.

The utility room, like everything else, was plain. The washer and dryer were white, the floor concrete, and the shelving barebones. The detergent was the most colorful thing I saw since arriving. Somehow even this room smelled like absolutely nothing. Directly across from the door we entered was the backdoor and Violet told me where they would hide a key for me to be able to get inside.

“Ready to see it?” She asked, smiling politely.

I nodded, “Thanks again for renting it out to me.”

She chuckled, “No thanks needed. You were paying, that was enough for me to say yes.”

The back porch was tiny, just barely big enough for the both of us to stand on. There was a small vegetable garden along the side of the house, but it was empty. Noticing my wandering eyes, Violet told me all about the turnips and gourds she had been planting this season. She had watermelon and tomatoes in the summer, but they were long gone. The rest of the yard was taken up by my home for the next few months.

It was small, but that was to be expected. What disappointed me, though I should have not been very surprised, was how white it was. The windows were a dark gray, a small porch was set up with enough room for one of those hanging egg chairs, and two built-in planters. They were empty and Violet told me I was welcome to give gardening a chance if I was interested. She was planning on growing some flowers eventually, but she was not sure what she wanted.

The front door was open, Jimin already inside, and Violet and I went in. There was a small entryway, two doors leading to rooms I would explore later, and a small shoe rack. I took mine off and put them up. Violet watched me and took hers off as well.

“Audrey told me I should put one in here,” I was learning that Violet enjoyed meaningless small talk. “Glad I did. Don’t think Christian took his shoes off, though.”

I shrugged, “No biggie. I was going to clean up around here anyway.”

The house opened up to my right and I was happy with the space. I had a fully functional kitchen and enough space for my coffee cabinet along the wall. The living room would be able to fit a small loveseat, television, and coffee table. It was white and plain, but I was very happy with the floors. Whoever picked out the dark vinyl flooring must have had me in mind. I would go crazy if this place was as sterile as the Andersons’.

“I put your stuff in your room.”

Turning I grinned at Jimin. It was sweet of him to help me out. I was going to pick up my car tomorrow morning and he had volunteered to drive me. We would be starting our training next week so I could have some time to settle in. All of my furniture was arriving either tomorrow or the day after and my hands would be full. I was counting on Jimin and his friends to help me unpack. His manager was going to make himself known as well, but would not be staying for long. Apparently, according to Jimin, Sejin was not one to get his hands dirty.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll let you get settled in,” Violet was already scratching to leave, and I wondered why. She had been very hospitable over the phone. “You’re welcome to join us for dinner. Calvin is going to bring the air mattress out here tonight, so you have someplace to sleep.”

With a kiss on Jimin’s cheek, Violet slipped on her flats and left. Alone with Jimin again, I found it hard to speak. We were much better over text. Looking just as lost as I was, Jimin scratched the back of his neck and looked down.

“My, uh, my mom offered you her couch if you want it,” He stuttered, his face turning red. “Or, uh, um, you can take the spare room at my place,” He let out a huge gust of wind. “It’s a bit of a drive but I do have the space.”

Flustered, I quickly declined, “Thanks but I’ll be fine here.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jimin shook his head, the redness spreading down his neck. “For sure. Totally.”

The air was awkward now and I could not figure out how to fix it. Jimin was the one always breaking the ice between us, and now that he was acting like this I was stranded at sea. Even when he warned me he was more reserved in person I had not expected this. He was so quiet and skittish. How was I supposed to work with him if I could not get the courage to speak?

“Thanks for the offer,” I cleared my throat. “Are you staying for dinner?”

He shook his head, “I promised Jungkook we’d go out tonight. Any other time I’d say yes.”

I asked my disappointment. The thought of spending time with Violet and Calvin alone made me deeply uncomfortable. Their house felt like a hospital room and her weird behavior was unsettling. I could only hope Calvin was nicer but from what Jimin said he was a ticking time bomb. It would be nice to have someone act as a buffer.

“Why was she acting so strangely?” I asked, hoping Jimin had picked up on it as well. “It was like a totally different person.”

He frowned, “I think she’s just on edge since Calvin went to the doctor’s today. Their daughter took him, and she hasn’t heard anything. She’s a sweet woman, don’t worry.”

Now I felt like an asshole.

“That’s understandable,” I murmured. “Do you think she’ll be upset if I order food for all of us? If she’s stressed out, I don’t want her feeling like she has to cook for me.”

Jimin smiled, “She would appreciate it. I’ll go talk to her, how does that sound?”

I nodded, grateful. “That would be nice. The house gives me the creeps.”

That made him laugh, “What? Why?”

I shrugged, giggling with him.

“Feels like a funeral home or something. I hate the minimalist aesthetic.”

Jimin bit his lip, “You’d probably hate my place, too, then.”

I chuckled. It was easy to imagine Jimin inside of a huge modern house, dark wood and barely anything in it. He was a single man, busy, and spent so much time at his parent’s house it did not matter what he had inside of his own place. Not wanting to make him self conscious, I bit my tongue.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

He cocked his head to the side, and I laughed.

“Fine,” I conceded. “I would probably dislike it, but I don’t think it looks like a white padded cell.”

I may have been exaggerating a bit, but it was not that far off from how the Anderson home looked to me. I hoped by asking me to help fix up a few things, Violet meant giving the house a much-needed makeover. If I was lucky, I might be able to convince her to get a few throw pillows to break up the monotony.

“Jeez,” Jimin laughed. “Harsh critic.”

“Well, is it?” I joked, glad to have found our footing again.

“No,” He shook his head in thought. “It’s mostly gray and black, but still just as empty. Probably emptier, honestly. I don’t have as many pictures as Violet does.”

Smirking, he snapped his fingers, “My trophy room is pretty colorful. I have a lot of pictures and shit in there.”

That made me smile. I was not bringing any of my memorabilia here, but it was nice to hear him sound so proud of himself. I kept most of my competition stuff in my basement, a large China cabinet displaying all of my awards. My favorite had to be the small, cheaply made trophy sat at the very top. It was beside my Olympic medals, worn and dull beside the beautiful necklaces, but I loved it all the same.

It was the first trophy I ever won. I was seven and my dad convinced me to sign up for a swimming competition my swim class was hosting. He promised to come. I practiced a lot preparing for it and made use of the new above ground pool my dad had bought. I won the race. My own joy and happiness made me forget that he never showed up until it was time to go home. I had to wait with my coach for two hours, and by the end of it she felt so bad for me she took me out for ice cream. Dad never apologized, I don’t even think he acknowledged that I won at all, and I never tried to bring it up again. Still, I loved that stupid thing. It was the reason I wanted to compete. That little pocket of happiness between winning and realizing that no one cared was precious to me and I held onto it.

“I need to get going,” Jimin sighed, reaching into his back pocket and snapping me out of my thoughts. “Jungkook’s blowing up my phone. Just got broken up with and needs a drinking buddy.”

I sucked in air through my teeth, “Well, your services are needed. Don’t let me hold you up.”

Jimin smiled at me, “See you tomorrow, yeah?”

I nodded, “See you.”

He lingered in the entryway for a moment more before shaking out of whatever trance he had been in. Slipping his converse back on, Jimin waved at me before walking outside. His face was buried in his phone, so he never saw me wave back. He shut the door, the sound echoing in the empty house, and I was once again left alone.

Violet came out a few minutes later to discuss take out until we finally landed on pizza. She never said thank you, but her offer to give the tip since I was paying was more than enough. Then later when a few of my boxes came in early she happily carried them to me. She even helped me put everything away. When Calvin came home, she led me back inside and said with so much affection it made my heart melt.

"Calvin, this is Y/N. Sweetest woman I ever did meet. Bought us dinner."

Calvin reminded me of Namjoon in a way. His soft eyes and gentle voice. He took my hand when I introduced myself, his hands cold and soft. Wrinkles and sunspots went up the length of his arms.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," He said.

"Likewise," I replied.

We ate in silence, the three of us watching Jeopardy on the sofa. Even though I had been nervous about eating inside, Calvin's presence warmed the place up. Once a prison now felt like a poorly decorated home. A home filled with love.

As I watched them together, Calvin reaching out for Violet's hand and her giving it to him without question, I felt myself getting choked up. There had been a time I had that. Joon would be on the floor, book in his lap, while my hands were in his hair as I studied my training tapes.

I left early that night. I blew up the mattress, the house quiet, before sending out a few texts to my friends to let them know I was getting on alright. After that, I put on nature sounds to help me drift off to sleep. I had not felt this lonely in a very long time.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio

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kairismess · 3 months

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i just read somewhere that in japan after their graduation, the boys can give the second button of their uniforms to the girl they like as a confession (since the second button is the closest to the heart they say).

iwaizumi x reader maybe? dkcoknsmx 🫣

hearts' day 007.

in which iwaizumi gives you a little keepsake during graduation day.

"well... guess this is goodbye."

iwaizumi mumbles with a chuckle as he scratches the back of his head, forcing a wincing smile as he looks anywhere but your eyes. he's glad you came to see him during the graduation, he really thought you'd be saying goodbye to all your friends and celebrating with them that he'd never have the time to get to see you for this moment he's fantasized of ever since he got to meet you.

you smile up at him and chuckle under your breath. "suppose it is. or more like... 'see you real soon'?" you suggested with a bright smile, watching from underneath your eyelashes how flustered iwaizumi got at the prospect of seeing you again after high school. he was always a tough nut to crack, but when it came to you, he was like an open book; incredibly easy to read, and a joy to discover more about.

he chuckled lightly under his breath and shied away from your gaze. "suppose so..." he murmured hopefully, sounding a little more optimistic than he'd like to let on. you hear your friends calling your name from a distance, waiting for you to finish up your conversation with the spiky haired boy so you could all walk home together.

as you call back to them that you'd be down soon, iwaizumi interrupts you hastily, with a bashful look on his normally grumpy expression, his left hand fiddling with the second button of his uniform. "i... i can't let you leave yet, not without... this." he stammered, undoing the second button of his uniform, removing it entirely, and handing it to you.

the golden button shone under the setting sun behind you, and the falling cherry blossom petals surrounded you two in a flurry of light pink and whites. iwaizumi couldn't find the voice nor courage to tell you what he means by this, but you were a smart girl, of course you'd have an idea by now what he means to tell you.

"...i don't want this to be a goodbye." he mutters, his eyes filling with tears, but he blinks them away. you look up at him with a gentle warmth in your cheeks and soft eyes, starting to feel the same way as him–or maybe you always did, and right now, you finally came to terms that you didn't want to be without him after today, either.

you smiled once more, clutching the button he handed to you in your palm, and leaning over to kiss his cheek softly. the boy let out a small noise at the feeling of your lips making contact with his skin, making you giggle. "then, i'll see you again. you'd better not forget me, okay?" you said with a small voice, tears in your eyes.

iwaizumi's green orbs widened, and he nodded, trying to look strong for you so you wouldn't cry. you two parted with a hug, with the spiky haired boy clutching you for a while longer, for a bit tighter, hoping that today won't be the final time you two would see each other.

maybe life had other plans, maybe the universe was brewing up some bigger schemes for you two, maybe there will come a time where there will be people in your life to distract you, but... there will always be him, and to him, there will always be you.

and wherever you are... he'll always be with you, so long as you keep that little keepsake from his uniform, his heart will always be beating for you and within your reach.

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xiaojunsmintchoco · 1 year

Text

Taste of love - Kim Mingyu

Pairing: food science student!yn x food science student!mingyu

Genre: fluff, angst; enemies to lovers, polytechnic au

Synopsis: You and Mingyu have always been in competition for the top spot at everything since secondary school and the cycle doesn't end even after graduation, because you both end up in the same polytechnic AND the same food science course. Until one day, the professor puts both of you together for a year end project, and you both have to knock your heads together if you want to maintain your top GPAs.

CW: mentions of food (a lot because they’re studying food science)

wc: about 6.9k

a/n: this fic is dedicated to @bangchan-fairy! bee, I hope you like your (belated) christmas gift, and thank you so much for being one of the first moots to see me through my days as a beginning writer starting out on shaky steps — I truly appreciate the support 🧡 I hope you had a great christmas, and i wish you an amazing 2023 ahead!

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“Finally, we’re back in the kitchen!” You exclaim to your best friend, Minho as you follow your polytechnic class to the food laboratory. “God, when I left the house this morning, I swore that if we had to attend another lecture today, I’m officially dropping out of this course,” you add, with a dramatic sigh and a hand on your forehead, as if you were about to faint.

Minho gasps in mock horror, and puts a hand to his chest. “So you were planning to leave me to take this course alone? Just because of the lectures?” he asks incredulously.

You flick his forehead jokingly. “Of course not,” you laugh. “We promised we’d graduate from this polytechnic and obtain our diploma together, didn’t we?”

“Glad you didn’t forget, else into the air fryer you go,” he replies. "180 degrees for 20 minutes," he adds with a smirk as you both put on your aprons and caps before turning back to the front to wait for the teacher’s instructions.

The sound of a chair being dragged out from the work desk beside you startles you, and you wish you didn't turn your head to find out who it was. You exchange dirty looks with said person – Kim Mingyu.

Mingyu had been your sworn rival ever since you both started secondary school. From grades to leadership positions to competition results, you were always nearly neck and neck with each other at everything – except that one of you would end up on top in the end. The arrogant glances and smug smirks Mingyu would send you whenever he beat you to the first place in anything never failed to make you bristle with anger. You thought the competition would end when you finished your final exam and graduated from secondary school, but to your dismay, he picked the same polytechnic course as you. So, here you both are, continuing your long-term rivalry in Nanyang Polytechnic's Food and Nutrition course.

"Alright, class," your professor announces as she makes her way into the classroom. "Listen up! As you know, we've been studying Asian food this week, so today we're going to try our hand at making popiah. On your work benches you should see the recipe as well as the ingredients you'll need. Feel free to add anything else you'd like to the fillings. Work on it with your partner, and by the end of the lesson we'll give them a try. If you need any help, I'll be around".

You and Minho quickly skim over the recipe for the Teochew-style spring rolls. "I'll make the filling, while you can make the wrappers?" Minho suggests.

And just like that, both of you are ready to start work. Throwing open the cupboard doors, both of you successfully locate the grater, mixing bowl, frying pans and other utensils. You begin by combining flour, salt and water in the bowl, then straining the batter to remove the extra lumps. After that, you set the stove to low heat and place the pan on it. "Good thing I brought my pastry brush today," you offhandedly remark to Minho as you pull the brush out of your apron pocket. Dipping the brush into the batter, you proceed to brush the batter onto the pan, brushing several times to ensure the wrapper would not have holes in it. When the first wrapper is done, you peel it off and set it aside on a clean plate, and repeat the process again until you have five wrappers complete. "I'm done with the wrappers, are you almost done with the fillings?" you ask Minho as he's busy frying an omelette.

"Yes, I just need to cut this into long strips after and then we can wrap the popiah," Minho replies, removing the omelette from the pan and placing it on a plate to cool. "In the meantime, what about you grind some peanuts? There should be a mortar and pestle in the cupboard and some peanuts in the drawer," he suggests.

"Sure! That's a great idea," you compliment your friend and get the peanuts, as well as the mortar and pestle. Pouring the peanuts into the mortar, you pound them with the pestle until they're finely ground up. At the same time, Minho is done with the omelette strips, so you both get round to wrapping the popiahs. It doesn't take that long, and soon both of you have three plates of popiah, all cut into pieces that are one inch in breadth.

"Cheers," Minho declares as you each pick up a piece of popiah with chopsticks, gently bringing his piece to yours before you both pop them in your mouth. The flavours in the popiah explode in your mouth, the savoury flavours of the omelette strips and dried shrimps and sweet flavours of grated vegetables and jicama blending together perfectly like a match made in heaven, enhanced further by the sweet-spicy notes of the chili sauce.

“I think we did a great job!” You remark to your partner, eyes wide in amazement. Minho simply nods, too enraptured by the tasty creation both of you had made together.

Turns out, the teacher agrees with both of you. “The skin is not too thick or thin, and overall, your popiah is very flavourful. I also really like the addition of omelette strips and ground peanuts for extra protein,” the teacher comments after sampling a piece of the popiah you and Minho had made. “Well done, y/n and Minho! Also, the use of the pastry brush for the popiah skin was smart”.

You both give the teacher a small bow and thank her as she moves to the next table, giving Minho a discreet high-five. “Hmm, it’s not bad, but the popiah skin is a bit lumpy and a bit too thick. How did you prepare it?” The teacher asks Mingyu and his partner, Junhui.

“I just spooned the batter onto the pan and spread it out,” Mingyu answers.

“Did you strain the batter before doing so?” The teacher fires another question at them. You watch on, mildly amused, as both of them exchange glances and shake their heads.

“Ah, so that is why the batter did not turn out that well. In the future, strain the batter before cooking it, and try to use a pastry brush like y/n and Minho have done,” the teacher remarks to both boys before moving on to the next table, and you don’t miss the glance of disdain Mingyu sends in your direction, which for some reason causes the sweet feelings of a small victory to bloom in your heart. Hey, it was only the first practical cooking session your class had had in a long time, but you felt good that you were able to cook up a better dish than him this time. You can’t resist the urge to send him a smirk and mouth “watch and learn” to him, and that gleeful feeling only grows as his scowl intensifies as well.

“Okay class, as you all know, we’ll be starting our year-end projects soon, so I’ll be giving out some details today,” your teacher declares, bringing your attention back to the front of the kitchen. “I’ve paired all of you up, and in your pairs you will pick a dish to do a macronutrient and micronutrient analysis of. After which, both of you will need to recreate the dish, but make it healthier by changing up the cooking methods or ingredients. Your choice of dish is up to you, you can even create your own fusion dishes. Just make sure to do a macronutrient and micronutrient comparison of the original and the one you both recreated, and write a report on how you made it healthier,” she instructs. “I’ve emailed the instructions to all of you, and right now I’ll be flashing the pairings on the screen”.

You fix your eyes on the screen, hoping that you would be paired with Minho. Unfortunately, your anticipation soon fades to dismay as you see the name next to yours: Kim Mingyu. Oh God, why?

“These pairings are final, so I expect all of you to cooperate with your partners to obtain optimum results, and I will not be entertaining any requests to switch partners. I wish all of you all the best!” Your teacher finishes, dashing the last of your hopes to request to be paired up with another person. “You may go look for your partners now, and discuss arrangements to work on the project”.

Begrudgingly, you push in your chair and drag your feet to where Mingyu is. “So, we’re gonna have to work together for our final project, huh,” you huff, making no attempt to hide your displeasure.

“Obviously so. Now, I don’t like this any better than you do, so we’ll just make this as quick and painless as possible, then we can get this over and done with and hopefully never have to work together again. Okay?” Mingyu asserts, looking down at you with the same haughty glare you hated so much.

You narrow your eyes into slits, glaring daggers at him. “Deal”.

“Okay then. Meet me at the subway station after school, we can go to my house to do our research first,” Mingyu instructs, before hurrying off to catch up with Junhui.

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As agreed, you meet him at the subway station to go to his house. "It's only 2 stops away and then a five minute walk, so it won't take long," Mingyu informs you as you both board the train. Not willing to engage in a proper conversation with your enemy just yet, you simply acknowledge with a grunt.

Before you know it, you've reached his apartment block and are already in the lift to his fifth floor flat. Upon entering, the first thing that greets you is the row of medals hanging on the walls, right above the glass cupboard which houses all of his trophies and certificates. Immediately you feel slight bitter feelings rise in you, but you push them down, reminding yourself that you were here to focus on your year end project, and you'd also had your fair share of times when you'd successfully beat Mingyu to attain first place or top scores.

"You can put your bag down, and I’ll get you some water," Mingyu states. Though his tone was flat, you were mildly surprised that your enemy still treated you with basic hospitality. “Sit down at the table and we can start”.

Now, you weren’t expecting working on a project with your nemesis to be a walk in the park, but you weren’t expecting it to be this difficult and unpleasant either. It’s been more than one hour, and both of you are still arguing about which dish to pick.

“Goddammit, just pick something already!” Mingyu finally explodes, sick of the endless back-and-forth that both of you had been engaging in.

“Oh if it’s that easy, why don’t you pick then?” you snap, the last wisp of your patience vanishing as well.

“I don’t know, you keep refuting every one of my suggestions. You got a better idea then?” Mingyu shoots back, eyeing you with a challenging glint in his eye.

“No I don’t, your ideas were simply trash, and you weren’t listening to any of my suggestions either,” you state flatly. “You’re in the debate club, I thought you’d be more logical than this. Don’t waste my time. You’re my fucking rival but I still have to cooperate with you”.

Though you’re enemies with him, you regret your earlier words as a look of clear hurt crosses his features for a split second. Mingyu squeezes his eyes shut, draws in a deep breath, and then slowly lets it out again. “You know what, we’ve spent more than an hour here, but all we’ve done is bicker. Since today’s so unproductive and I don’t think we’ll accomplish anything, you can just pack and leave. We’ll continue another day”.

With that, you pick up your bag and brush past him in a huff.

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“He’s so freaking insufferable! He didn’t agree to anything I suggested and still complained I was the one being picky, ugh. I can’t believe I’m doing my year-end project with him”.

You’re ranting to Minho over breakfast the next day before school starts, the unpleasant project work session with Mingyu still fresh in your mind. “Gosh dammit, I bet I could finish this project alone and get a much better GPA than this guy can. Lucky you, you got paired with Jaehyun”.

Minho patiently listens to your every word as you vent your frustrations to him, before finally offering his advice. “You know, y/n, both of you are in the wrong here”.

Your head snaps towards Minho. “What? You’re my friend, you’re supposed to be on my side!”

“Y/n, I’m just being real here. Did you both tell each other what you found lacking in the other’s suggestions, or did you guys just shoot down each others’ suggestions?” Minho asks.

You go quiet for a minute, sipping on your coffee as you reflect on yesterday’s events. “I think the latter”.

“There you have it. It’s understandable if you guys didn’t like each others’ suggestions, but at the very least you guys should say why, and do it in a civilized manner. From what I’m hearing, you said some pretty harsh stuff to Mingyu,” Minho continues, explaining his thoughts on the situation.

“You’re not wrong”.

“And besides,” Minho continues, chewing on his food, “you’ve got to cooperate with him, no matter what. I know he was your rival and you both were competing throughout the year for a better GPA, but here your GPA is at stake. If you don’t cooperate with him, I don’t wanna imagine the drop in your own GPA. You’ve gotta accept that this time you can’t be fighting him. After this project, compete with him all you want, that’s no one’s business. But for now, you’ve gotta put aside your differences and work together, unless you wanna risk repeating year one again”.

You sip on your coffee, quietly reflecting on Minho’s words. “You’re right. I should have chosen my words more carefully before speaking to Mingyu,” you admit, a twinge of embarrassment pricking in your chest as you remember the harsh words both of you exchanged yesterday. “Maybe I do owe him an apology. Thanks, Min”.

Minho nods, happy that he was able to help you know how to move forward from the argument and figure out your next steps. “No problem. You can always catch him after class later to say what you need to. If you’re done, shall we go? I don’t wanna be late”.

“Of course”. With that, both of you clear your table and head off to polytechnic again.

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“Mingyu! Mingyu!”

You call for Mingyu as he’s leaving the lecture hall, a puzzled look on his face when he sees you hurtling towards him at the speed of light calling his name. You’d just fought yesterday, so why were you looking for him now?

“I just wanted to say, I’m sorry about yesterday. I should have thought before I spoke and gave your suggestions more consideration before shutting them down”. You pant out your apology, out of breath from running after him. “Sorry for wasting our time yesterday and speaking thoughtlessly to you”.

“It’s alright. I shouldn’t have snapped at you first, I’m in the wrong too,” Mingyu says, reciprocating your apology.

“Apology accepted. Can we get along properly and cooperate with each other from now on, at least until our project is over? I know both of us have been in competition for top grades ever since sec 1, but both our GPAs are on the line here. If we want to do well, we must work together,” you request, reaching out your hand to offer him a true truce this time.

Mingyu’s eyes glaze over with a thoughtful expression as he processes your words. For a moment you worried that he would let his ego get in the way and reject your proposition. “I agree with you. I don’t think any of us want to be retained, so let’s call a truce, at least until this project is over,” he answers, shaking your hand firmly.

“Good. Well then, I guess we can get to work on this project again. Since you offered your house last time round, shall we go to mine today?” you suggest. "It's not that far from here, just a few bus stops away".

"That'd be great. The last time you were over, we squabbled so much, my mum was worried we'd get a noise complaint from the neighbours," he chuckles, and to your surprise you find it in yourself to get out a small laugh in response.

"No more of that this time," you laugh. "Okay, after school today let's meet at the coffee shop nearby, I'd like to get coffee first".

"Okay. See you then!" Mingyu shoots you a small smile and a wave, and walks away.

He’s actually pretty nice when he’s not in his competitive mode, you think to yourself, happy that for once, you were able to talk to Mingyu in a much friendlier manner than usual, with no hateful or malicious undertones.

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Mingyu: y/n

Mingyu: I'll be a bit late, Ms Lim wants to speak to me

Mingyu: sorry about it! you can buy your coffee first

Upon reaching the coffee shop, you open your phone to receive these three notifications from Mingyu, informing you that he wouldn't be able to make it on time.

You: no problem! would you like something too?

You figured you'd try to do something nice for him this time to make up for the last argument you'd both had. Besides, he did offer you a drink when you went to his house the other day, so one good turn deserves another.

Mingyu: yes please, I'll pay you later

You: alright, what would you like?

Five minutes goes by with no reply from Mingyu. Oh well, you'd take your chances with his order. He probably was already speaking to Ms Lim and wouldn't be able to reply to you for a while.

Making your way to the counter, you prepare to place your order. "Hi, can I have…" you tell the barista your order, before hesitating over Mingyu's order. What does he like?

You end up ordering him an iced Americano. Just as you collect your orders, Mingyu comes running in, panting heavily. "Y/n! I'm sorry I'm late".

"No problem. In fact, you seem a bit too excited to work on a project with your rival," you joke, completely missing the way his cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink.

"I mean, it wouldn't be nice to keep you waiting," he reasons.

"By the way, you didn't tell me what you wanted, so I got you an iced Americano," you inform, passing him the drink.

Mingyu takes the drink from you gratefully and sips on it. "Thanks y/n! How did you know I like this?" he asks, surprise crossing his features.

"I've seen you bring this into the lecture hall so many times, and I may have overheard Junhui joking about your Americano addiction yesterday," you explain, motioning to him to follow you. "Anyway, let's get going".

You both board the bus to your house and settle in the living room to do research. "I think that instead of trying to settle on one dish at once, we can just do our research today and make a list of possible dishes. After we come to a decision, we can get round to thinking of ways to make it healthier and drafting our report. Next we'll make a list of ingredients and possible equipment we'll need, edit our report, and try to find ways to make our practical session as efficient as possible. Sound good to you?” Mingyu fleshes out his plan to you.

You’ve got to give credit where credit is due, it was impressive that Mingyu was able to think up a sensible plan so quickly. “I guess we can do that. I’ll make a google document for us to list down our ideas, and then we can start doing our research”.

With that, both of you get down to doing the research again, listing out possible dishes as you go. “Jeez, there’s so many options. Now I understand why we had such a hard time picking the last time,” Mingyu mutters, scrolling through the document for what seems to be the millionth time.

You’re not having an easier time as well, simply staring blankly at the document on your computer while struggling to come to a conclusion. “Me too. I don’t know how we’re going to pick,” you grumble. At that moment, an idea hits you. “Why don’t we pick a dish that’s seemingly innocent and healthy, but is actually the opposite?”

“I was thinking of that too,” Mingyu agrees, considering all the options again. “In that case, it would probably be chicken rice? I mean, it’s rice, chicken, and cucumbers, which would be healthy in most cases, but in this dish the rice is swimming in chicken fat”.

“You’re right!” you exclaim, smacking your hand on the table in excitement as you swivel your head towards him. “Okay, let’s do chicken rice then. When shall we meet next to do our nutrient analyses?”

Mingyu swipes through his phone, looking at his schedule. “My next available day would be Friday after school, right after our practical session. Would that be okay? We can go to my house this time”.

You nod, approving the suggested date and noting it down in your own phone. “That’s fine by me. Okay, I guess that’s settled. See you on Friday”.

“We’ll be seeing each other tomorrow for class. Did you forget?” Mingyu points out, bursting into laughter at your expression of sudden realisation. “So I’ll see you tomorrow,” Mingyu chuckles, picking up his bag and preparing to leave.

“You’re right. Bye then, see you tomorrow,” you chuckle as Mingyu exits your house, pleasantly surprised at how well both of you were able to get along once you both put all forms of competition aside, and simply treated each other with respect and kindness. You hoped above all else, your future interactions with him would be more like today’s meeting, rather than all the other times that both of you ended up fighting like cat and dog.

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“So…what I’m gathering here is, chicken rice is a great source of protein, but too high in fat, especially saturated fat, and lacking in fiber,” you mumble, looking through the information you and Mingyu had compiled in the google document. “So we should find ways to reduce the fat content and boost the fiber content of this dish”.

“In terms of micronutrients, it’s sorely lacking in vitamins A, C, D, E and K, and has sky-high sodium levels, which we should work to bring down,” Mingyu concludes, looking through the nutrient analysis you’d both done together. “I’m thinking of adding more cucumber slices, which are rich in vitamin B, C and K, as well as some tomato because they’re an excellent source of vitamins A, C, E and K. In addition, we could add in mushroom slices to boost the vitamin D content,” he adds, getting the ball rolling on your discussion by throwing in the first few ideas.

“Those are great ideas!” You give Mingyu a genuine compliment, and add your own ideas as well. “Boosting the fiber content won’t be much of a problem — switching the white rice for brown rice and adding more vegetables as you’ve suggested should do the trick. It will be tricky to get the brown rice to have that nice, fluffy texture, but it should be doable. As for the fat content, most of it comes from the chicken fat that’s used to cook the rice, which is what gives the rice its delicious flavour. So the challenge here is to find a way to find a substitute for the chicken fat so the rice retains its signature flavour,” you muse, hard at work thinking of ways to do as you just said. “What if we steam the rice with chicken stock?”

“The sodium content is a concern, though,” Mingyu points out.

“Many supermarkets offer low-sodium varieties now,” you remind him. “We can always just look for one”.

“Mm, that’s true,” Mingyu grunts, signalling his approval. “Should we just take these ideas for now and begin working on our report? If we have any other ideas we can always add them in later,” he suggests.

With that, both of you get busy, drafting out your report and working on the nutrient analysis for the improved version of the dish together. Though it takes about two hours, both of you eventually get it done as you put your heads together. After that comes the task of compiling a shopping list, which you’d have to send to the professor so that the school could help you buy the ingredients you’d need.

“Brown rice, chicken, chicken stock, cucumber…” you read off the list you’ve both compiled so far. “Anything we missed out?”

“Wait! We forgot to specify that we need a low-sodium type of stock,” Mingyu exclaims, jumping in to correct the minor mistake on the list and scanning through it again. “Okay, this should be it. We can send it to professor Lim now,” he decides, and presses “send” on the email. “Now we can split the work for the actual practical session. It’s actually not that hard to cook — what if we just chop up the vegetables and prepare the seasoning together?”

“Sounds good to me,” you utter. It’s in times like these you’re grateful for Mingyu’s natural leadership skills, it definitely helped both of you get things done in a more organised way.

“Okay then, we’re done for today”.

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“Alright class, as all of you know, today we’re here to create the dishes you've picked for your year end project in your pairs. You have two and a half hours to complete your dishes. After the time's up, I'll sample your dishes and evaluate them accordingly. Don't forget to submit the final draft of your reports by the end of today".

You're back in the polytechnic kitchen with Mingyu, listening to Ms Lim prattle on about instructions which the whole class already knew about. Nevertheless, you and Mingyu still give her your full attention, worried that you'll miss out on some important instructions. After all, this project would contribute to your final grade for the year – none of you wanted to mess it up.

"Your time starts now, you may begin". Upon hearing that sentence, you and Mingyu spring into action, with you preparing the chicken while Mingyu slices up ginger and grates garlic and shallot. Once the chicken is safely in the pot of boiling water with the seasonings, it's your turn to chop up the vegetables while Mingyu cooks the rice. As you're chopping up the vegetables, the tantalizing aroma of stir-fried ginger wafts into your nose, signalling to you that all was going well.

Or so you think.

Out of the blue, a sharp pain stings your finger, making you cry out in pain. Holding up your finger, you're greeted by the sight of a red patch that's about the size of a five-cent coin. In your carelessness, you'd cut your finger rather badly.

In a flash, you hear the stove go silent, and Mingyu's hands are no longer holding the spatula, but rather cupping your hands gently and examining the cut, expression of fierce concentration having softened into one of concern. "Quick, wash it," he instructs, guiding you to the sink and turning on the tap, letting you wash the cut under the running water. "Ms Lim! May I bring y/n to the nurse? She's cut herself!" he calls out, raising his hand to get the teacher's attention.

"Go ahead, I'll give you both extra time. Y/n, be careful next time". Ms Lim gives you both the green light, and Mingyu hurriedly brings you out of the kitchen and to the general office.

"Oh snap, the nurse isn't in," Mingyu groans under his breath as he passes by the empty sick bay. "Nevermind".

He sits you down on a chair, before rummaging through the cupboard where the nurse kept her supplies and pulling out some cotton balls and a bottle of antiseptic. Pouring out some antiseptic onto a cotton ball, he gently dabs at your wound. "It may sting," he warns.

But you barely feel it. You're more distracted by your surprise at the genuine worry he showed when you'd cut yourself, as well as the sensation of electric sparks coursing through your whole being with every swipe of the cotton ball he made on your finger.

Electric waves continue to flow through you, and your pulse rate quickens the slightest bit as Mingyu maintains his firm grip on your finger while looking through a drawer for a plaster. Unwrapping it, he quickly wraps it around your wound. "All done. Jeez, be careful y/n! That was a nasty cut!" He exclaims, gently running his thumb over the wound, which was now nicely bandaged up.

"I will. T-thanks, Gyu". You mentally slap yourself as you catch the tiny stutter that slipped out of your mouth.

Mingyu raises his eyebrow at you, and his lips curve into a smirk. "Gyu? A week ago we were at each other's throats like there was no tomorrow, and now you're calling me by a nickname that only my close friends use on me?"

Shit.

You definitely did not intend for that to happen.

"What? You got a problem with that?" You reply with the boldest tone you can muster to cover up your flustered state.

Mingyu shrugs as if nothing happened earlier. "Nope. Just surprised. Continue calling me that if you want. Anyway, we should really get going – we've still got a dish to cook," he decides, switching the light off and making his way back to the kitchen with you.

Luckily the rest of the cooking session goes on without a hitch, and you both successfully complete preparing the chicken rice, all within the original amount of time the teacher had given the class. When she began inspecting each pair's work, thick tension was palpable in the air. "I feel like we're on an episode of Hell's Kitchen, with Ms Lim as Gordon Ramsay," you mutter to Mingyu.

Mingyu chortles in response. "That's actually a great comparison".

Both of you are stiff as boards when Ms Lim's shadow falls on your workbench, thanks to the apprehension that is plaguing you both. She scruntinises the food in front of both of you, then picks up the utensils you put beside the plate and proceeds to sample each component of the dish, starting with the rice, the chicken, and finally the vegetables.

With bated breath, you watch as her expression softens into one of approval and begins making notes on her clipboard, and mutters a "good" before heading to the next table. Palpable relief washes over you, and you know Mingyu felt the same way as he lets out the breath he's been holding for God-knows-how-long, and the subtle frown on his face disappears from sight.

Little did you both know, a week later both your relief would become joy as Ms Lim announces that you and Mingyu's project had scored the highest in the class with a distinction, allowing him to maintain his solid 4.0 GPA and raising yours to a 3.9. A few weeks ago you would have given him a glare laced with venomous jealousy, but this time, for a reason you can't quite put your finger on, you're satisfied with your own GPA and finishing second in class – happy for Mingyu even.

"You're not mad or jealous?" Mingyu questions, audible suspicion in his tone after you congratulate him.

"Nope," you answer, popping the "p" as you firmly shake your head. "I mean, now that I think about it, second place isn't that bad. Hey, I still got a decent GPA and can move on to year 2".

"Funny you say this, because I know for a fact that if this happened a week ago you wouldn't have taken this so well". Mingyu points out as you're both leaving the school compounds. "Anyway, congratulations to you too! 3.9 is an amazing GPA as well". He finishes his sentence by offering you a handshake, which you gladly accept while trying to ignore the mild frenzy of butterflies in your stomach.

Outside the school gate, the sight of a shimmering pastel rainbow greets both of you, as if to signal that the animosity and hostility between you and Mingyu had been dissolved and replaced with genuine friendliness and harmony, just like how storm clouds clear to make way for rainbows. Looking up at the rainbow, a happy, warm feeling filled your heart, so much so that you felt like it would spill out of you.

⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥

After the project, though you and Mingyu remained friendly with each other, you both didn’t interact much, aside from a few comments on each others’ instagram posts.

Hence why it came as a surprise when Mingyu slid into your instagram DMs with this message one day:

Gyu: hey y/n! would you like to come to my house on the 24th for a Christmas potluck dinner party? it’s for all the fn course students!

y/n: sure! I think i can make it

Gyu: alright that’s great, thank you!

You chuckle as you shut off your phone, thinking back to last year when Mingyu hosted a post-exams party for your whole class. You had also gotten the invite, but because you and Mingyu had such bad blood between both of you, he had refused to personally invite you, opting instead to relay the message to Minho who sent you the details of the party. This was really the first time he’d personally invited you to any class gatherings, a sign that your relationship had improved significantly.

A potluck dinner filled with food and nutrition course students can only mean one thing — every single course will be mouth-wateringly delicious, while not compromising on nutrition. From the air-fryer chicken you’d prepared, to Minho’s greek pasta salad, to Kun’s steamed fish, everything was tasty and healthy — truly a gastronomical heaven.

But the most unique dish of all would’ve been Mingyu’s fortune cookies. They would have been rather ordinary, if not for the fact that he’d infused them with peppermint flavour and stuffed each cookie with Christmas messages he’d handwritten. If there was one thing the whole class was in agreement on, it was that Mingyu’s fortune cookies were the sweetest thing at the party, both taste-wise and thought-wise. You'd already eaten a couple of them and uncovered messages wishing you a Christmas filled with light and love.

"Ha! Slowpoke!" you announce gleefully, gathering up the remaining Halli-Galli cards as Kevin groans.

“Damn, I was hoping to beat her winning streak,” he huffs, though a smile still remains on his face to indicate he wasn’t being a sore loser. “Let’s rematch!” he declares, shuffling the cards again.

“Um actually, I wanted to steal y/n aside for a moment, if that’s alright”. Mingyu’s voice sounds from behind, startling you slightly.

“No problem! You guys go ahead without me,” you answer, excusing yourself from the group and following Mingyu into his kitchen, with their arguments about who will win the next round fading into the background along with the Christmas music.

“I wanted to tell you something, but before I do, please have this,” Mingyu whispers, handing you a fortune cookie. Thanks to the dim light entering from the living hall, you’re able to pick up on the slight tint of pink on his cheeks.

Biting into the cookie, you remove the piece of paper from the inside and unfurl it, squinting as you try to make out the words. y/n, I really like you a lot. This Christmas, would you be mine? ♡

As you read the note, you feel as if the butterflies in your stomach are having their own Christmas party in full swing as well. You look up at Mingyu, mouth slightly agape as you’re still processing the words that he’d written.

“Actually y/n…I’ve liked you since secondary one, when we were in the same class. You were constantly topping the cohort in so many subjects, and you were acing all of the cello competitions you represented the school in. I was in awe of how smart you were, not just academically but musically as well, and I found that so attractive — though I admit I was always slightly envious of you. I thought that I should learn from you if I wanted to pull up my own grades. But when I came to ask you for help with Mathematics homework, I think you were having a bad day, which caused you to lose your cool with me and tell me to figure out the question myself, and I snapped back at you in response. It fuelled my jealousy even further, and I began competing with you all the time, which pretty much kickstarted our long-lasting feud,” Mingyu explains while shifting his weight from foot to foot, the words tumbling out of his mouth so quickly that you could barely make sense of what he was saying. “Even though you’ve been my supposed rival since secondary school, I’ve had a crush on you throughout. But I suppose I felt that there wasn’t any way to fix things between us, since we were constantly at war with each other over grades and shit. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have flung those harsh words at you that day”.

The memory of that first interaction you ever had with Mingyu replays in your head as you try to put yourself in his shoes. If someone you asked for help had lashed out at you for not understanding a question in front of the whole class, you’d be wishing the ground could swallow you. Yes, maybe he shouldn’t have retaliated so fiercely, but you shouldn’t have let your negative feelings take control of you that day as well and just offered him the assistance he needed — maybe then you’d both have had a much more pleasant relationship for the past four years you’d known each other.

“Oh, Gyu, I’m so sorry. I really was having a bad day then, but it wasn’t an excuse to lash out at you when you simply asked me for help with a question. I’m sorry for causing you so much embarrassment back then,” you offer Mingyu a sincere apology. “And I have to admit, I looked up to you a lot as well. You did a great job as the class chairperson, through the ways you maintained order in class, settled class disputes and also brought everyone together. I was also amazed at how you never forgot to check in on everyone from time to time, and how you showed such genuine care for any struggling classmate in any way you could, even if you were bogged down by your own school work. I was slightly jealous of your leadership capabilities and how the teachers found you so trustworthy, but I thought that those qualities made you very attractive”. Taking one of his hands in yours, you continue to speak. “Don’t worry. It’s not too late. I think I’ve always harboured feelings for you, even throughout our time as academic rivals, and those feelings haven’t faded after we began getting along — if anything, they’ve only grown”. You catch the way his eyes crinkle into an adorable eye smile, and you feel your heart rate begin accelerating.

“Really? So…I take that as a yes?” Mingyu asks, gesturing to the slightly crumpled note that’s still in your hand.

“I mean…since we’ve both had feelings for each other for so long, why not?” you reason, a shy giggle escaping your lips. “Of course, we shouldn’t rush into things given the previous tension between us, but we could always see where things go. If we’re both happy, I would really love to be with you”.

Mingyu immediately pulls you into a bear hug, pressing a quick peck to your cheek. “Of course, y/n. I’m so glad you’re willing to give us a chance”.

Both of you remain like this for a few moments, soaking up the warmth of each others’ embrace. You marvel about how one single polytechnic year-end project had not only dissolved the tension between you and your previous rival, but also given you your first taste of love, one so sweet that even Jaehyun’s air fryer peach pies could never come close.

“Noooo! I was hoping they’d kiss!” A whine from Jeonghan suddenly punctuates the air, and you turn your head around in surprise.

“Gosh dammit, you idiot! You ruined their moment!” Minghao scolds, smacking Jeonghan on the head gently.

“Hey hey, be nice now,” Kun chides them both gently, but you see that he’s giving the both of you a happy smile. “Congratulations, y/n and Mingyu”.

“Thank you, Kun,” Mingyu replies, returning the smile. “Wait- why’s the whole class here?”

“Um so…I may or may not have been a bit of a big mouth and told all of them about your plan to confess to y/n”. Junhui blurts out in a tiny voice, but Mingyu picks up on it, and before you know it he’s torn himself out of your hold and is dashing out of the kitchen, to the amusement of all of you.

“WEN JUNHUI I’M GONNA FREAKING DEEP FRY YOU!”

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chrisbitchtree · 5 months

Text

All For You

This is my contribution to the @harringrove-relay-race!

The day Billy’s life changed forever was a Sunday in May. He’d never forget that for the rest of his life. He’d never forget how brightly the sun shone as he packed up his car and drove east, as his father kicked him out, refusing to pay for any more of Billy’s college tuition after finding him in bed with his friend Matt a week after they arrived home for summer vacation.

His was given the option to stay and continue to have his dad pay for his college education, but the conditions were that he move home and live there while finishing out his last two years of school, and that he give up his friends and his “lifestyle” as Neil called it.

Billy refused. He couldn’t live under Neil’s roof again. And suddenly the whole state of California, not just San Francisco, seemed too small, so he got in his car and drove. He hadn’t been aiming for the Midwest, had originally planned on Boston, but that’s where he’d landed, after his car had broken down on the side of the highway just outside of Chicago. Finding he liked the pace of the city more than he thought he would, he decided to stick around for a bit.

He applied anywhere he could, and the first place to call him back for an interview and offer him a job was a catering company. He’d worked as a waiter on and off through his first couple years of college, for extra spending money, so he was confident that he could do the job well.

He made friends easily, people who accepted him for who he was, falling in with a group of fellow servers, Heather and her girlfriend Robin, and their friend Steve, gorgeous, funny, goofy Steve, who could make Billy weak in the knees with one smile, and thoughts of whom filled Billy’s every waking hour, and most of his dreams too. They would work long hours, day after day, serving at all sorts of upscale events, and when they were done their shifts, they’d hit the clubs or bars, or go see a movie, then head to the diner for late night shakes and fries.

When Billy decided to stay long term, applying for and getting a transfer slot at a local university, he had to find a place to live. Heather had been nice enough to offer up her couch for the summer, but that couldn’t be a long term solution, so Billy put out feelers for a potential roommate. It turned out that Steve was looking for one as well, so it worked out perfectly.

It seemed like a match made in heaven. They were the same age, both out on their own with no ties to family, working hard to make a name for themselves in the world. Steve was an especially hard worker, going to school for culinary management by day, and working as a server by night and on weekends. He’d also pick up shifts in the prep kitchen when he could, telling Billy that it was important for him to know how all aspects of a food business worked if he wanted to own his own restaurant or catering business some day.

Billy really admired Steve’s drive, and it only added to his attraction to the other boy. He tried to fight his feelings for Steve, but it was hard when he was so sweet and kind, funny and thoughtful, and looked like he did to boot. He had long legs that seemed to go on forever in his black server’s pants, a lean, toned swimmer’s body, and soft looking, wild brown hair that curled up in some spots and flopped over in others.

Billy wanted nothing more than to kiss Steve’s plush pink lips while running his hands through it. It felt like he and Steve were maybe building to something, but it was always hard to tell. One minute, Steve would be flirty, touching Billy’s arm as they talked, and the next, he’d be moving to the other side of the couch, keeping a safe distance between them.

In the face of this, Billy tried to tamp down his feelings, doing his best to just enjoy his friendship with Steve. They would help each other study, make sure the other ate, they worked and partied together, and it was really starting to feel to Billy like he had a family again, between Steve, Heather, and Robin.

Then, Billy had to go ahead and combine his bad habits of jumping to conclusions and opening his big mouth without thinking about what he was going to say first. He and Steve had both been scheduled to work a massive Christmas party for some regular clients of theirs, the Harringtons. They hired the catering company almost every single Saturday evening, for small dinner parties, and they were Billy’s least favourite events to work, because the Harringtons were so awful.

They were rude to the staff, telling them that they were slow and lazy, and constantly made up stupid white lies, like saying that they’d asked for white win when they were poured a glass of red, even though the servers knew that they’d asked for red, or saying that their steaks were overcooked, even when they were a perfect medium rare. The only thing that kept the catering company coming back was how well the jobs paid, and the generous tips that the Harringtons would give them at the end of each event.

Nobody ever wanted to work a Saturday night, but Billy would be fine with working every single Saturday if it meant he never had to serve those awful people again, so he was deeply frustrated to see his name on the list of servers for their Christmas event. He knew there would be a huge payout for it though, so he decided to just grin and bear it, and hope the night would go by quickly.

Thankfully, it did go by relatively fast, and at the end of the shift, he went looking for Steve, hoping that they could ride back to the warehouse space that the catering company ran out of in the same big white food service van. As he rounded the corner towards the Harrington’s front hall, he heard Steve speaking in hushed tones with a woman. That was weird. The female voice didn’t sound like anyone from work.

Curious, Billy froze in place and listened. “Son,” the woman said. “You know you’re welcome home at anytime. In fact, we hope that you’ll join us for Christmas dinner. You just need to stop that. And in case you need help making your decision, here you go.”

Mom,” Steve replied, his tone stern. “I don’t want this. And I told you and dad that I’m not changing my mind. Take this back. I don’t want it. We’ll see about Christmas.”

“I’ll throw it in the trash if you don’t keep it,” the woman said, before walking away, her heels clacking on the tile floor. She rounded the corner, followed by Steve, who was stuffing an envelope into the pocket of his black pants.

Holy shit. Steve was the Harrington’s son. He wasn’t like Billy at all. He flattened himself against the wall, trying to remain unseen. Thankfully, he did, both Steve and Mrs. Harrington too wrapped up in the argument they’d just been having to pay attention to anything else.

Billy was fuming. All this time, Steve had been acting like he was just a regular guy, trying to scrape by, with no one to care for him, just like Billy, but in reality, he was richer than Billy could ever dream of being, and he had a family, right there in town, that seemed to care about him and want him around, even if they were assholes to almost everyone else. And here, Billy had thought he and Steve would spend Christmas together. Sure, he’d never actually asked, but it seemed to make sense. Where else would either of them go? Billy had already been trying to see if he could fit a small turkey in their apartment sized oven, and Steve was planning on spending the day with his rich family in their mansion!

He tried to act normal on the ride back to work, and on the car ride back home, but by the time they got back to their apartment, he couldn’t hold back anymore. “So, I hear you have big plans for Christmas day, huh? Gonna go over to mommy and daddy’s and let them spoil you? I can’t believe you never told me that the Harringtons were your parents, Steve. You just sat back and let us complain about what assholes they are, and it turns out you’re their fucking spawn! Did you think that was funny, asshole? I hope you enjoy your fancy meal while I sit here all alone eating a frozen dinner and getting drunk off cheap wine.”

Steve, who’d been in the middle of taking off his coat when Billy started his little rant, stood frozen, his eyes wide, his face ashen, his jacket half on and half off. Billy could see the bulging envelope in his pocket. It probably had a giant wad of cash in it.

“Billy, I…” he started, but Billy cut him off, too mad to listen.

“I just don’t understand how you could do this. All the months we’ve known each other, and we’ve lived together for almost four months, struggling to make rent and pay the bills, and you’ve got an endless supply of cash right there. I heard your mom give you the envelope of money. I saw it in your pocket.” He pulled off his coat, throwing it towards the hall closet, and stomped to his room, slamming the door shut.

He hoped that Steve would leave him alone so he could cool off, but no such luck. Not a minute passed before Steve was yanking Billy’s door open. Hands on his hips, he looked like he was about to lay into Billy, so Billy grabbed his headphones, turning on his music and cranking it up loud. He closed his eyes and laid back on his bed, doing his best to ignore Steve.

It worked for a little while, but then Steve was snatching the headphones off his head. “Hey, asshole!” he shouted. “Did you ever think for one fucking second about asking me why exactly I’m struggling to pay for stuff if my parents are loaded?”

Huh, yeah, Billy hadn’t really thought to ask. “Because you’re a massive idiot who doesn’t know how to be happy with what he has?”

“No, dumbass, because, exactly like you, I was kicked out of my house for being queer. But unlike you, I don’t have the benefit of being halfway across the country from my parents. They hire the catering company almost every week, just to keep an eye on me, and remind me of the lifestyle I left behind, and I don’t want to say anything about it to anyone because they bring in good money for the business, and despite my repeated requests for my parents to leave me alone outside of work, they’re constantly trying to bribe me to come back, with the conditions that I take something they choose in school and marry a woman.

But I don’t want that. I want to own a restaurant. I want to make a name for myself. I want to date guys. I actually wanted to date you, you fucking prick. Until tonight, that is. I really liked you, but it turns out you’re just as awful and judgemental as everyone else in my life. I was going to ask you if you wanted to spend Christmas together, and I took the money from my mom so I could afford to buy you a Christmas present, but I really hope that you enjoy that frozen dinner and boxed wine. I’ll talk to Heather and Robin about going there.”

Billy sat speechless as he watched Steve walk out of his room, slamming the door behind him. He was such an idiot. He had to make this better somehow, but he had no clue what the fuck to do. It wouldn’t be enough to just say sorry. His big mouth had pushed them way beyond that. No, he needed to make a grand gesture, something that would really show Steve how much he meant to Billy.

It came to him the next morning as he was hiding out in his bedroom, listening to the sounds of Steve getting ready to go to work, a shift he and Billy thankfully didn’t share. Steve had mentioned that he was going to spend Christmas with Heather and Robin, since Billy had gotten himself ex-communicated.

Robin and Heather, from a small town in Texas, couldn’t afford to go home for the holidays, so they were staying in Chicago. If that was the situation the two of them were in, there were probably others, at work and school, that couldn’t afford to make the trip home, or didn’t have family to spend the time with. Maybe Billy could offer to host a potluck dinner at the apartment, to show Steve that he wasn’t alone, and that he had a lot of people, most especially Billy, who cared about him.

As soon as he heard the front door shut and the key turn in the lock, Billy sprang out of bed and raced to the living room, scooping up the phone, cord stretching across the floor, and dialed Robin and Heather’s number.

He’d been so caught up in how to make this better that he’d never considered that Steve would have already told them what happened. He sat through a full half hour of both women trading the phone back and forth as they took turns berating him for his behaviour the previous evening. He knew he deserved it, but it didn’t make it any less embarrassing to hear all the stupid shit he’d done repeated back to him.

When they were done, and he had apologized profusely, promising to never hurt Steve again, he told them his plan. After another round of promises to never intentionally hurt Steve again, they agreed to get him back to his and Billy’s apartment on the evening of the 25th.

When Steve got home that day, he reluctantly listened to Billy’s apology, and just as reluctantly accepted it, telling Billy that he knew he hadn’t meant it, and was just being a hot headed asshole, which Billy deserved, but since they were out of school for the semester now, any time they weren’t working over the next two weeks consisted of Steve mostly avoiding Billy by going right to his room when he got home, or leaving the apartment altogether for long stretches of time.

A small part of Billy hoped that anger wasn’t the only reason that Steve was avoiding Billy, that maybe he still had feelings for Billy too, and just felt awkward about addressing those feelings now. He didn’t want to get his hopes up too high though.

Billy tried to spend that time working on himself, seeking out a therapist who could help him work through his feelings of jealousy and resentment towards anyone who he perceived as having an easier time than him in life, and help him work through his abandonment issues, both things he’d spent way too long shoving down inside himself until they bubbled up to the surface, out of his control.

He also contacted everyone at work and his school friends that said they didn’t have anywhere to go for the holidays, making them all promise to keep it a secret from Steve. His invitations had an overwhelmingly positive response, which both saddened and heartened him. He’d never thought of how many other people felt alone as he did.

Steve spent the night of the 24th at Robin and Heather’s apartment, so Billy worked to prep the apartment as best as he could. They didn’t have much furniture in their apartment, and there wouldn’t be much room for extra tables and chairs anyway, so he decided they would all eat on the floor. He bought bright red and green tablecloths at the dollar store and draped them all across the living room floor after pushing the couch and armchair against the wall, and a few of tomorrow’s guests have loaned him Christmas lights and decorations, and one even brought over a tiny tree.

He was actually pretty happy with it by the time he was done. Now he just had to wait. He made cookies to fill the time, ten different kinds, from his mother’s handwritten recipes, one of the only things he brought with him when he moved to remind him of her. By the time he stopped for the night, the counters were full of baked goods.

The next day, as the guests started to arrive, Billy grew more and more worried that Steve wouldn’t show up. He didn’t know what kind of plan Robin and Heather had concocted to get Steve to go back to his apartment, he’d left that to them and trusted that they’d follow through with it, but he was starting to second guess whether they’d be successful.

They said they’d have Steve at the apartment by 6pm, but that ticked by, and then 6:15, and 6:30, and Billy was starting to give up hope, resigning himself to failure. He had an apartment full of friends, but no Steve, the one who mattered the most. Then, just as the clock struck 6:45, the door flew open, and Billy could hear Steve’s voice, even from back in the kitchen, where he was grabbing more napkins.

“I still don’t get why…” the words died on Steve’s lips just as Billy rounded the corner to their living room. There stood Steve, with Robin and Heather behind him. Steve looked as beautiful as ever, hair flopping in his eyes under his hat, and a startled look on his face as he took in the space, packed full of their friends and coworkers. He locked eyes with Billy, who suddenly found himself at a loss for words.

“Billy, can I talk to you? In my bedroom?” Steve asked.

Billy followed silently behind him.

“You have a lot of nerve, having all of our mutual friends over for a Christmas party at our apartment while I’m over at Robin and Heather’s, sulking. You’re really trying to hurt me as much as possible, aren’t you? We just came to get the bottle opener. Robin broke theirs. If you don’t need it for your party guests, I’ll just take it and get out of your hair, so the festivities can continue.”

Oh god, this really wasn’t going according to plan. “Steve, I didn’t plan a party for while you were gone. This party is for you. Well, for you and for everyone who didn’t have anywhere else to go for Christmas. But mostly for you. I wanted to show you how many people you have in your life, that you don’t need your parents. We’re your family now. I’m really, really sorry about what I said to you that night, but you mean more to me than anything, and I just wanted to make you happy. I don’t think you’re a spoiled brat. I think you’re the most amazing, hardworking, kind, special person I’ve ever met, and I hope you’ll give me a chance to prove that to you.”

A small smile started in the corner of Steve’s mouth, the first thing even close to Steve’s usual grin that Billy had seen in weeks. “Ok, I’ll think about forgiving you. On one condition.”

“Anything. I’ll do anything for you, Steve.”

Steve opened his bedside table and pulled out a sprig of something green. “I was going to use this stupid mistletoe to finally try to make a move on you tonight, but I’m gonna leave the move making to you now.” He handed the sprig to Billy, who held it over their heads.

He leaned in close to Steve. “Can I kiss you, you beautiful goof?”

Steve didn’t respond, and instead just pressed his lips to Billy’s own. They stayed like that for a long while, until someone knocked on the door, letting Billy know that his kitchen timer was going off for the hors d’oeuvres.

“Come help me in the kitchen?” Billy asked, holding out his hand. Steve took it, following him out of the room.

The spent the rest of the party glued to each other’s sides, and Billy could tell from the soft looks Steve gave him, and the giant grin plastered to his face that this had been the right move. Billy was beyond happy that the plan had worked. Laying in bed that night, holding Steve in his arms, Billy thanked whatever higher power had decided he was worthy of a second chance at happiness.

*** From that year onwards, every single Christmas, no matter where their lives took them, through the opening of their first, then second restaurant, marriage, and the adoption of both of their children, one thing never changed. Every single December, they put the word out to anyone and everyone they knew that they were welcome in their home for a celebration of friendship and found family come Christmas day.

Please look forward to the amazing work from the next contributor, @oopsiedaisiesbaby!

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #harringrove relay race #harringrove fic #chrisbitchtree writes

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intercoursefluids · 7 months

Text

Be My First Be My Last Chapter 13

Chloe sighed, adjusting the sunglasses she was wearing. The school lights were hurting her eyes today, she had spent too long pouring over the details of Marinette’s case file.

It was mostly empty, full of dead ends and half plausible leads. No one could find her; it was like she disappeared.

Chloe would have felt awful about Marinette’s disappearance regardless of the circumstances, but it was even worse because she was there.

She had been there when they took them, she was there when they all woke up in an unknown location, she was there when Mari had impersonated Kagami.

She had been there when Mari had gambled her life away to save theirs.

And she couldn’t even help find her.

They had been knocked out before they had even reached the front door, only waking up underneath a bridge where the Couffaines spotted them from their houseboat.

They had no idea where they had been, if it were in Paris, France, or if they had still been on the same continent when they were taken.

She had never felt so useless.

Months had passed since Marinette had gone missing, months without the slightest hint at where she had gone.

Sabrina had told her that the police station was starting to consider her a lost cause. Well, she didn’t say lost cause but cold case held pretty much the same meaning.

The only reason she hadn’t been presumed dead yet was because of her and Kagami’s testimonies of what happened.

Officer Raincomprix figured that if they wanted her alive enough that she could save all three of the girls by threat of suicide, they wouldn’t hurt, or at least, they wouldn’t kill her.

It had been a small comfort, the only comfort that Marinette’s parents had been given really.

All they had was their belief that she was still alive, nothing more and nothing less.

Chloe looked up from her desk as Alya and Nino walked in, talking loudly about their plans for the day.

“Okay, you run home and grab your mixtape, I’ll get the videos and photos ready and we meet back here and combine the two. Think they’ll like it?” Alya asked, glancing up from her phone to her boyfriend.

Nino nodded, wrapping an arm around her.

“I’m sure they’ll appreciate it. We can’t find her, but maybe we can show the Dupain-Cheng’s that no one has forgotten about her, y’know?” Nino said, pressing a kiss to Alya’s cheek.

Chloe squinted at the two from behind her sunglasses, wondering what they were planning.

She was just about to go over to them when her least favorite classmate walked in, Lila.

“Hey guys! What are you talking about?” She asked, worming her way into their conversation. Chloe couldn’t help wrinkling her nose in disgust.

“Oh! Lila we’re putting together a collection of videos and pictures that everyone has of Marinette for her parents. Do you have anything you want to add?” Alya asked, turning to face the other girl excitedly.

Lila didn’t say anything, narrowing her eyes at the girl in front of her.

“Alya.” She said sharply. “Why would I have anything save of my bully?” She said with emphasis, her eyes flashing as she stared at Alya.

Alya hesitated, tripping over her words before narrowing her eyes as well, her green eyes shining defiantly.

“You’re so right, girl. Why on earth are we even doing this? I mean, yeah, I feel sorry for her parents and all, but you have to admit… Karma always has its way.” She finished, leaning in like she was sharing a joke with Lila.

Nino looked shocked, grabbing Alya’s and pulling her attention away from Lila.

“Alya!” He shouted. “I mean, I know you two hadn’t been on the best of terms before she disappeared but come on! She’s missing.” He insisted, shaking her arm like he was trying to wake her up.

Alya tugged her arm out of his grasp just as Lila rounded on him.

“No one is implying that she deserves any of this Nino,” She said with a honeyed tone. “It’s just that, I mean… I can’t really bring myself to miss her, y’know? Not after everything she did to me…” She finished shyly, glancing up at him.

Nino hesitated, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. He cast a glance up at Chloe, his green eyes meeting hers before he looked back to Lila.

Chloe wasn’t sure what he said next, having stopped listening the moment their eyes met.

She wasn’t entirely sure about Alya, she hadn’t known her as long, but Chloe had known Nino for years. She could have sworn he had brown eyes, not green…

Chloe took off her sunglasses, staring intently at the three of them.

Alya’s eyes, which she could have sworn were green just a moment ago, were brown again. A glance at Nino showed the same results, their eyes were both back to brown.

Chloe shook her head, sure that she was just imagining things when another thought struck her.

How would she have even been able to tell what colour they were behind her sunglasses? They would have to be glowing for her to tell.

Biting her lip, Chloe raised her glasses again, not putting them on but only looking through one lens with her other eye closed.

Their eyes were still green, a glowing bright green that matched the colour of Lila’s eyes.

When Chloe opened her other eye, free of her sunglass’s lens, their eyes were normal.

Chloe quickly put her sunglasses back on, observing everyone that interacted with the three near the door.

Throughout the day, Chloe wrote down what she noticed in her notes app.

She couldn’t see any difference without her sunglasses.

The eyes always glowed green, regardless of the pervious eye colour.

Their eyes only glowed around Lila.

When their eyes started to glow they would immediately agree with whatever Lila was saying.

Chloe had a theory, but she needed to perform one final test before she shared her thoughts.

Tag List:

@Prettylittlebutterflie

@Dood-space

@Raeuberprinzessin

@Account-is-secret-but-needed

@Frieddonutsweets

@Ev-cupcake

@Ts-maemain

@toodaloo-kangaroo

@animegirlweeb

@Vroomtaka

@rosesandsailboats

@depressed-bitchy-demon

Join Us On Discord!

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backtoyuta · 1 year

Text

How NCT127 would be as teachers

[or working in a school]

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

❁ [Taeil] History teacher;

100% one of those teachers that spends at least 15 minutes of the lesson chatting shit with the class

Can also be easily distracted by just asking him what his favourite season is, or his plans during the summer

Is always pitching school trips

Makes awkward eye contact with you when you try to cheat in a test

Launches text books across the room rather than just handing them out

Has a chocolate drawer

Literally can never make his smart board work, is always forced to play youtube videos on mute.

❁ [Taeyong] School councillor/ pastoral;

He's the guy in charge of talking you down from an anxiety attack, or handing you a box of tissues when exams are really getting to you.

Has the stash of generic pads and tampons for all the poor kids that come running in with that fear stricken look in their eye and a jumper tied around their waist.

always has a box of biscuits and chocolates locked and loaded.

Mr Lee is the guy that approaches you kindly with his hands in his pockets because he knows you've been going through it at home, and wants you to know his door is always open.

Manages to give extremely sound advice, like he truly cares and isn't just regurgitating quotes from a training seminar.

extremely well liked, when students get sent to talk to him they know they're in good hands.

❁ [Johnny] Behaviour team;

in charge of the after school/ lunch time detentions.

No one knows fear like when they are *this* close to getting away with ditching and then Mr Seo rounds the corner with his walkie talkie

assertive as hell

you'd think he was hated by students, but if you're behaving well and going to class he's not afraid to have a little joke with you either.

Sits there with his eye brow raised and his arms crossed on the desk while you explain why you're in detention, but the conversation is interrupted when his walkie talkie is going off again because a kid is trying to scale a wall.

always has his tie loose and sleeves rolled up by the end of the day because his job is one of the most stressful.

Is fully aware that he scares students a bit so goes out of his way to be kind and funny to put kids at ease (as long as they're not misbehaving)

really good at remembering student's names, even the quiet ones that slip under the radar

❁ [Yuta] Scary flamboyant biology teacher;

You stopped believing his anecdotes weeks into the term because theres an 80% chance he's fucking with the class.

a very good teacher who can get the lesson done concisely and efficiently

is one of those teachers that stares at you and just waits for you to finish talking instead of saying to be quiet.

Students find him mysterious and intimidating but also never complain when they have him on their timetable.

Yuta is the teacher that the substitutes ask for when they can't control the class

you'll be sat there having a chat with your friends and then Mr Nakamoto comes in to yell at the class to be quiet and listen to the sub and then everyone actually does it.

Will sign the petition to stop dress-coding the girls without a second thought because he truly believes it's stupid.

Tells kinda TMI stories, but you don't read too much into it because who knows if its really true or not.

❁ [Doyoung] Aggy receptionist/school nurse;

Is the least bit interested when you roll up late and have to be signed in.

Is extremely glad he sits in his own office and doesn't have to deal with kids as much as the teachers

Gate keeps the espresso machine in the main reception

Has to work extra hard when a kid comes in looking like they're gonna puke or with a bloody knee because sympathy is exercising a new muscle for him.

Will gossip with Taeyong in his room when he's on his lunch break

If you do happen to catch him in the pastoral room then he'll sit quietly and respectfully while you talk to Mr Lee, he might even chime in with something useful that'll make you fear him a bit less

Has perfected the art of dealing with complaining parents to an actual tee, the best in the business.

Fails to hide his laugh when you come into his office and tell him you got hit in the face with a basketball.

Makes a huge song and dance when kids come to him and tell him they forgot their PE kit or their violin and now he has to call their mum

❁ [Jaehyun] PE teacher Himbo;

Definitely one of those young PE teachers who peaked in high school and only likes you if you're good at sport.

Had to consciously act professional when he was assigned the lower set.

In reality, is the most fun on sports day

Like he will actually take part and that's why his classes like him

if you hurt yourself and its not serious he'll make a little joke or laugh with you to make it less embarrassing before sending your sorry ass to Doyoung.

if you want to get out of PE, just say you're on your period because Mr Jeong gets flustered easily and he won't ask any questions

Heaven forbid he gets asked to cover a lesson that isn't PE, will just let the class go crazy on kahoot.

Shoots baskets perfectly and tries to act chill when the class is cheering but really he's screaming on the inside.

❁ [Jungwoo] Librarian;

First things first, Mr Kim makes World Book Day his bitch.

Maybe the school was more casual about it in the years past, but since he started working there, the students are generally expected to take part or Jungwoo will be very disheartened

Makes the library a true sanctuary

is guilty of calling the IT support at any minor inconvenience on his computer

Also eats during the day and then simultaneously tells kids off for eating in the library

Is terrified at the concept of disciplining rowdy students- so he just doesn't.

not that students ever really disrespect him, he's too nice

admittedly spends most of his day flicking pens and twiddling his thumbs, but students fight over the role of student librarian because he's quite fun to talk to

❁ [Mark] TA;

At least half the student body has a crush on him

Gets mistaken as a student all the time because youth.

always keeps fidget toys on him for the kids that need them

puts 110% effort into helping you with homework, even if he's clueless on what the subject is

thrives in the modern foreign languages class

calls the students "dude"

always ends up washing the dirty mugs in the staff room at the end of the day

If he catches you upset in between classes, will sit and talk to you like a friend before walking you down to Mr Lees quiet room.

Just the bestest boy really

❁ [Haechan] Shitty ICT teacher;

One of those fresh out of Uni teachers who's still finding their way

Drinks redbull during class

avoids leaving his desk at all costs

His marking is always so inconsistent

Like you'll be looking at an answer he marked wrong, but marked correct on your friends test and when you go up and question him about it he's like "damn shawty lemme take another look at that"

doesn't say shawty, but ya know same energy

has no shame in literally regurgitating the same comment over and over again at parent's evening

His redeemable quality is that he's the most fun on school trips... probably because he also enjoys not being in school.

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bigmeatbro · 1 year

Text

By now, when you've discovered yourself to be a cockpred for at least a decade, you start to easily recognize when that feeling of hunger down there begins, and your cock wants something to swallow. But with practice you can control that hunger for a little while if you have to, like if you aren't able to swallow someone in that moment. Hell, some preds prefer to wait for the right moment to strike, not to rush having a meal, and can wait a long time for a good prey. Regardless of how a pred eats however, just like hunger for food, sometimes you can go from 0 to 100 in terms of needing prey. And you'll become desperate to satisfy that craving, you can't ignore those pred instincts forever. It's very dangerous for a pred to tone down that side of them for too long of a time. Well, at least dangerous for any unlucky soul who meets a starved pred.

I was hitting up my best friend Rick at our usual pub hangout this evening. We first met as teens in school and we've been tight since day one. Love that dude, he always got me. Still, even if he was my bro I could never bring myself to tell him what my cock does. I never even once thought of eating him before, he was that close to me. Anyway, tonight was supposed to a normal night out, and it's been a while since we met up, about a week ago. We normally hang out every day. He's been incredibly busy with work and so have I. Coincidentally, my last cock meal was also about a week ago, and it has been needing prey badly. A week with no prey is roughly my limit. My cock has never gone a full week with no meal, there's always a few at the minimum per week. I only have so much reserves before it would just swallow the first guy it senses, no matter who it is, and no matter where we are. I'd love to have shoved a guy down my shaft by then, I just haven't had the time to properly hunt this week. I knew it was a risk to meet up with Rick without a good meal in me, but with how our schedules are, it had to be like this. I thought that once he left I'd immediately find a different guy right after and swallow the bastard in private, but my hunger had other plans.

Rick and I had a few beers at the bar already, and I had to break the seal, and went to take a leak. He had to go as well and joined me in the washroom. It was just us in there. Suddenly, I feel an incredible hunger form just as I'm about to finish my piss. I've been neglecting my pred instincts for so long. I feel a bit dazed and really warm. Fuck... my nuts need to churn someone badly. My cock maw is drooling for food, my pre already spewing a bit. I need cock food!! I went into pred mode, and instantly I was wanting to go for Rick since it was just us. Sure he's been a good friend... but I could get other friends, right? At this point, Rick is still taking a leak as my cock is starting to expand. Then I have a quick relapse; should I really take away my best friend like this?... No, I need to eat. This is how it is. Plus, this way he can get to know the real me, even if it will be brief.

Just then, this other dude comes in and takes the spot inbetween me and Rick. Boy did he pick a bad time to piss, he became a shield to Rick. With my hunger being so extreme in that moment plus knowing that I might not eat my best friend, I said fuck it. I finally let go of everything and I was nothing more than a starved cock pred in that moment. I didn't even care to see if this dude was my type of cock food I would go for normally. I didn't care how Rick would think of me after he saw what I do. I grabbed my prey on the back of his neck just as my cock grew to a few foot long, then longer, and it went right for his head. I shoved him even deeper in my shaft, my dick slit slurping him in further. He was wailing inside and freaking out as the shaft walls closed in on him, which got wide on the outsider when his whole torso got in. I know my cock was especially hungry after waiting all this time because usually mine likes taking a minute to enjoy the feeling of a meal go down, but this guy was already knees deep in my cock in a matter of seconds, a personal record for me. Even his clothes felt amazing being swallowed in the shaft instead of being a bit chaffing inside. I was that hungry. Fuck, it felt good to let my cock go to town. The only piece of clothing that didn't get in were his shoes, with his clean high tops falling to the floor from the tip of my cock, which was several feet tall at its apex with this guy fully in it. Now that my cock was satisfied, I took a second to see just who I ate. Judging by what I felt inside, along with the outline of him, it was some tall broad fella, probably a gym bro. Damm, he felt fantastic each time his big body tried to escape, but my precum let him slide down to my nuts in no time. Once that happened and he fell in, I took a bit of a breather and my cock started to slowly go back to its normal-big shape.

Through all of that, I get a jolt of memory... Rick! Did I swallow him too, or did I not? I turn my head to see Rick looking shocked as hell from the ordeal. I don't think he will ever realize just how close he was to being in my balls right now. "Bro, the fuck did you just do?" he uttered in only a semi-concerned voice. I explained that I gotta eat. As this guy was squirming in my nuts thrashing for help while being turned to ball batter, I told Rick about me being a cockpred and what that means. Maybe he was more tipsy than I thought, but after explaining all of that, all he did was just laugh and said "That's downright insane man. Damm you're wild!" and patted me on the back with a smirk. I chuckle. That's why I love this guy, nothing fazes Rick, even when making a guy some snack for my dick in front of him. By now, I knew that I already digested this dude based on how he stopped moving in my balls suddenly, and they looked more smooth and a bit smaller now. That surprised me, I never have churned someone this fast before. I was beyond hungry. Rick asked me then what happens after my cock ate someone. Knowing that I need to unload badly, I paused and said "Just watch".

It only takes a few strokes when I'm hard to blast this churned up guy out. I was already quite turned on by the whole situation since it was so spontaneous, but this sent me over the edge. I barely had enough time to tell Rick to stand back before I was shooting so much cum everywhere. It shot out super fast and went on for a long time. It was peeling paint off tiles, splattered back off the wall and hitting us in recoil, cracking and denting the metal in the urinals... my churned loads being powerful (even by normal pred standards) are one of my favourite parts of being a cock pred. Makes me feel like a god. I already blasted gallons but there was more. I shot out some of my meal's clothes towards the end. Baseball cap, tank top, gold chain, basketball shorts... totally drenched and soaked in this thick bro cum, firing out of me one after the other. After a whole minute of gushing out like a broken fire hydrant, my cock relaxes and I manage to finally get my junk back in my shorts. It's a snug fit, but that's how it is if you eat someone in public rapidly. The whole time, Rick was in pure awe. Once it was all done, he yelled "You're a fucking beast! Had no idea you could do that, you gotta teach me that shit!" like he just watched a freakshow. I just laughed and reminded him that nobody is truly safe from a cockpred, dropping him a hint. All in all, it was a good night. I managed to get a good meal in, and Rick not only knows about my pred status but seems cool with my secret life. Maybe I should introduce him to more aspects of it...

#cock vore #long #pic #mine

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suhlogic · 2 years

Text

wildest dreams — professor!johnny x fem!reader au

warnings: unprotected sex (the reader is on the pill), dom/sub theme, corruption kink, size kink, use of the term "daddy" a lot, age gap (reader is 20 and johnny is 30)

genre: smut, fluff

word count: 3.8k

NOTE: the text is formatted in lowercase for the entire story and lots of pining. johnny is the reader’s professor (the reader is a creative writing major in this au).

smut under the cut [do not read if you’re -18]

tough to crack, charming demeanor, mysterious, elegant and he's got a tall stature with a great physique as if the gods carved him. those are the words you could describe johnny suh, your hot english professor who wasn't too strict or too lenient. he's just the right balance of both. too bad, he's married and you were willing to remove his wedding ring no matter what. rumors swirled around about his loveless marriage and his no-good cheater of a wife. would it be so wrong if you seduced him? that's up to the heavens but you knew he deserved so much better than her.

you were determined to have him all to yourself.

[2:00 p.m— at school]

you were a running a little late for your last class, english literature since you had just finished writing a six-page essay on the five chapters worth of lessons mr. suh gave the class weeks ago because he had to take care of personal matters which explained his absences. oddly enough, the same rumors about him finalizing the divorce with his wife were swirling around the campus during his small yet weeks’ worth of hiatus from teaching. you wanted to be a skeptic but it all lined up and this was going smoothly all according to your plan.

after eight minutes of rushing from the library to his classroom which was on the other end of the building, you finally made it inside the room and discreetly sat on an empty chair hoping he would not notice.

however, things seemed more complicated than that. unbeknownst to you, you have him wrapped around your finger. the y/n who was always studious and knew her way in his subject seamlessly with a breeze, unlike your other peers who also took the class, always so determined and passionate about writing. oftentimes, he finds himself reading your works longer than other students. especially when he taught erotic poetry to the class... that's when he knew he liked you. johnny was just waiting for the right time for you to strike. he loved playing the long game. but despite stretching it out long enough, it was also the right time to divorce his wife who was a leech. their marriage was cut short, but who could blame him? he got cheated on by her.

after catching himself in a trance reading your erotica poem wherein you wrote:

"lustful innocence by ___________

i always thought white was the color of innocence,

until i met him.

he always thought the color

looked pretty on me and i basked

in his praises like it was the glowing sun.

i felt the kind of happy i have not

felt in eons—he makes me flutter with

his touches and kisses.

he gave me the love i always sought for.

never mind what the others thought,

he's older and cooler than me and

i was a rare gem in his eyes.

white always made you look angelic, he said

as i stripped for him and the lust in my eyes

became more prominent as he held me

in his arms and left his traces on me

that would only stay between us.

i am coaxed out of the good girl i once was

and my secrets finally felt safe with him.

white is my color, the color of lust and innocence

i'm willing to give him."

and johnny saw you in a different light past your angelic looks since that day. "class dismissed, do not forget to bring your essay outlines for the group discussion tomorrow." he hastily said while other students rushed out of the room. you waited until it was only the two of you alone together and came up to him at his desk where he was just preparing to leave. you felt like as if your body was frozen, unable to coherently form the words you wanted to say. for fuck's sake y/n, you're just going to submit your paper. when you snapped yourself out of your nervousness, you gathered up the courage to ask him.

"mr. suh, i hope this doesn't count as a late submission but here's my essay since i just got around to finishing it before your class and i didn't wanna interrupt." you gave him the paper with your shaky hand reaching out for his much bigger one.

"ah well. miss ________, you just submitted it right on time as expected of you but i'd like to talk about a poem you made for our lesson a few weeks ago," he rolled his sleeves up and took off his glasses, now you were treading treacherous waters. you didn't know what was coming, the silence was so loud you swore that you heard the chalk dust dropping.

johnny noticed how nervous you were but continued, "i won't be beating around the bush now, this specific poem...is an erotic one remember? and it hasn't left my mind..." he started to inch closer towards you.

"yes i do remember, it was a steamy one like you said we had to do sir." you said, unable to avoid his menacing gaze that you've been longing for. "the poem seemed a little too specific than the others, and i've seen how you look at me." he was now caressing the sides of your body, hands wrapped around your waist. the proximity making you feel beyond heated more than anything.

"i-i was thinking of you when i wrote that poem please is that enough?" you said in between desperate sighs as you see his plump pouty lips curl up into a smirk. "atta girl, that's all i needed." he left a kiss on your forehead. "_____, i'd like to ask you out to dinner this saturday...my place? i hope you don't mind. it's too risky here if anyone sees us." he asked as the two of you started to leave the empty room.

"does 7pm sound good mister suh?" you asked shyly. no boy, let alone a man like johnny has asked you out on a proper date so this was a first for you.

"7 o'clock pm it is then. it's a date." he smiled that beautiful smile that has your heart fluttering every time.

you were really going out with the hottest and newly-divorced professor, not to mention you've been fantasizing about him since the beginning of the school year.

[6:40pm —saturday, johnny's place]

you parked just right outside the house address johnny texted you. his place was quite huge, guarded with a fairly tall black fence around it and an elegant vintage gate to match. he knew how to give character to something, and from the get-go, the home exterior already screamed his personality. as you were getting your things ready, you felt your heart beat faster. moments away from actually being more intimate with him, hopefully, get to know what he's like in bed and all of the things you've fantasized about nightly. it was getting more real. you took one last look at yourself in a small mirror you brought and smoothened out the dress you wore just for this occasion.

you hesitantly placed your finger on the doorbell and took a deep breath as you pressed it twice. footsteps came from inside the house towards the door, not long after, johnny stands in front of you in all of his six feet and one inch tall glory with the sleeves of his black dress shirt rolled up and a pair of matching pants in the same color.

"wow, you're early _________." he greeted you with a smile and arms so welcoming and strong you could just melt into them. "i wouldn't want to be tardy again mr. suh." you said in hopes of clearing the awkwardness between the both of you.

"that's understandable, oh and we're not at school anymore...you can call me johnny." he laughed and whispered the last part lowly into your ear as he put a hand around your body to lean in for a hug and sent butterflies fluttering up and down your spine. you were in for a great night.

you and johnny enjoyed dinner, caught up with whatever's happening in both of your lives as just two people on a casual dinner date. not him as your professor and you as his student. it was beyond refreshing to see a different side of him. it was a little past 8:00 p.m and the two of you are on his couch drinking red wine, it was clear that you were having a blast with him, he's everything you've ever craved for in a man. no boy can come close to him, not even the jeno guy you dated for a month.

"______, do you know why i asked you out?" of course you knew why he wanted you here, you just wanna play dumb for him to see how far it'll get you. "i see how you gaze at me in class, almost like you want to undress me." you hitched a breath as johnny leaned in closer to you. "am i right, y/n? you're just the prettiest angel i've seen aren't you?" he looked into your eyes directly and all you could say was a 'yes.' there was no going back now. he had you in a trance and you love every second of it. without hesitation you fervently cupped his face and pulled him in closer just perfect enough to finally kiss him. he was taken aback and pulled away. smirking, johnny said, "aren't you such a desperate little minx? just so needy for me you couldn't even say yes."

"yes, mr. suh. i need you so bad." you said, still in a daze from the kiss. his lips a little shiny due to your lip gloss rubbing off on him despite his hair still intact with a few loose strands against his forehead. "that's more like it angel," he started to leave kisses and hickeys down your neck. you didn't care if it was gonna be obvious the next day but he's making you his own as you whine for him to feel you all over. "oh and when we're home, that's daddy to you baby." he winked at you, now his head in between your thighs slowly nipping at both of them ready to devour you. but he stops right there and lifts you up from the couch. "daddy...please," you whined at how he edged you. "angel, i gotta move us to the bed, yeah? a delicate pretty thing like you deserves to be fucked on one." he said in between kisses while your arms were wrapped around him and his strength made you fucking dizzy, he really was the man of your dreams. both of you were in his room already and johnny gently laid you down on his bed while setting the pillow against the small of your back.

"angel is that better? don't wanna hurt you." he softly whispered against you, foreheads touching one another. you've never been this intimate with a man, let alone have him bed you and you most definitely did not expect it to be your hot professor you've been lusting over the entire semester.

johnny began to take his shirt off, slowly and teasingly unbuttoning it one by one. you tremendously ached for him to be inside of you, to have his mouth and hands all over you. have those long, thick, and skilled fingers fuck your cunt that you've been imagining whenever you got a good look at them in class. "daddy...please...want you so bad," you whined as you played with your tits through your bra to relieve the ache. "patience, angel, i'm here." he said as he began to hover on top of you and started to leave kisses all over your face and lips. you moaned into the kiss as he began to cup your cheek while his other hand unclasped your bra. he took the opportunity of having your mouth agape for him to insert his tongue deeper into its wet hot cavern and the two of you began to explore each other's mouths. "do you want to go on?" he asked as if it wasn't obvious with how needy you were.

"yes, please..." you moaned. "please, what?" he murmured against your neck, the vibration of his voice making you whine louder, now he was trailing kisses down your chest now and fondling your tits, licking circles on each nipple. at this point, johnny was just teasing you more and he reveled in doing so. by the time his face came into contact with your clothed pussy, he kissed the small ribbon at the center of the waistband of your lace panties. "all pretty and dolled up for me, just wore the best for me didn't you?" he said as he slowly took them off, you could just nod and moan as you feel your cunt dripping with wetness all for him. panties nowhere to be seen within both of your sights, johnny began to collect your slick with his ring and middle fingers and made you suck on his digits. god, you looked so pretty in his eyes, innocently sucking off his fingers as if it was such an angelic act which made his cock twitch in his pants. he then started going down on you, mouth latched onto your bare cunt, he's tongue deep in your pussy, drawing random strokes on your cunt and sucking on the bud of your clit harder which made you see the entire galaxy. "daddy....johnny...please i'm cumming...yes..fuck, right there," and with that you were moaning so loud, screaming his name like it was a prayer. "can you take two more, angel?" he asked, looking into your eyes. once again cupping your cheek. his chin was still glistening from a while ago and hair messily all over the place yet he looked beyond godly in such a disheveled state.

"yes...anything for you, daddy...wanna just suck you off..." you were practically whining at this point, mouth dry at your desperate need to suck him off. johnny shifted himself on the edge of the bed as you shakily made your way in front of him kneeling down on the carpet. you were looking up at him with your pretty doe eyes as you took his belt off and unzipped the fly of his pants with your teeth which turned him on. now his pants were off along with his boxers and he's bigger, longer, and thicker than what you imagined. you were practically salivating at how it slapped against his toned and sculpted abs. he definitely wasn't like any boy you've been with. the tip was flush red and leaking pre-cum out of the slit of his cock. there were veins that beautifully decorated his length on its left side. you started to take him in and was now licking the pre-cum slowly to tease the head. you looked so innocent and you could hear johnny hiss at how you swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock. not long after, you took all of him into your mouth and he was moaning as he played with your hair and patted it. you jerked off his dick as he fucked your throat deeper. "angel...you're so fucking good...all pretty for me," he moaned and you could see him swallow his adam's apple from your point of view as he closed his eyes in bliss.

you sucked him off harder until he came and you swallowed most of his cum. some were painted on your chest and all over your lips and cheeks, johnny could take a picture of you right now if he could, you just looked so gorgeous and ruined for him. you crawled onto the bed as he gently flipped you against the mattress so he's on top of you now. you never got a good look at how gorgeous his honey brown eyes were but up close, they were hypnotizing and pupils darkened with lust. he had you under his spell. "are you on the pill?" he asked before preparing to thrust into you. "i'm on the pill, you can just hit it raw." you said with a tinge of naughtiness in your voice. "fuck, you're really a minx aren't you? wanting me to fuck you raw yeah?" he said as he placed a kiss on your forehead. "daddy...please just fuck me," you whined as he placed a haste kiss on your lips. johnny then used his cock to collect the wetness and slick dripping out of your pussy, you whined at how he dragged his dick along your folds. "baby...tell me if it hurts, okay?" he said reassuringly as he started to nip at your neck and collarbone. johnny's lips were now on yours to ease the pain from his size. "johnny...go slow please," you whined. he felt so good but you needed to adjust to him. "okay princess...is this better?" he asked, eyes never leaving your face as you muttered a 'yes.'

you slowly got used to his size not long after and begged for him to thrust faster and deeper into your pussy. "daddy, please...faster...need you...bad," he fucked his dick deeper into you, he hit the spots you didn't know existed inside your walls. "angel, can you feel this?" he grabbed your hand and placed it on your stomach as he thrust into you feeling him hit your cervix. his dick evidently bulging in your womb from your point of view. johnny could spend all day ruining you. you only wanted him, no one else. both of you were chasing your highs and johnny was rubbing your clit as his thrusts got faster and sloppier, "johnny....please...wanna cum already, daddy..." you whined as you felt yourself gush cum out of your pussy...only it felt different. you creamed and squirted on his cock which left him smirking smugly as he pulled out of you.

"baby, you were so good for daddy...you squirted so good i didn't know you could do that," he said pulling you in closer, your legs still shaking and brain still fuzzy from whoring out on his dick. you swore you could see stars. he left kisses over the bruises and hickeys he left earlier. johnny went to his cabinet drawer and took out a small towel to wipe the stickiness off of you. when he was finished, you grabbed him by the wrist and said "johnny...stay please..." you whined out weakly which he found cute. "aw baby,i have to run a bath for us we gotta clean up, yeah?" he cupped your face and kissed the tip of your nose. he was such an affectionate and gentle man despite how intimidating he may seem and you feel yourself loving him more in just one night.

once the bathtub was filled up, johnny picked you up bridal style and gently sat you on the tub as he followed. he was now hugging you close against his chest behind, just pure silence and the sound of the water from the faucet. you were more than happy with him. "this isn't what you expected when i asked you out huh?" he whispered lowly in your ear as he held out his hand to interlace his fingers with your smaller ones. "well...i almost wanted to back out, i didn't want my hot professor seeing me flip." you replied softly as you laid against his neck, feeling your lips graze under his jawline. the intimacy of it all was too good to be true. "i'm glad i finally have you all to myself," he murmured in your ear as his hands traveled naughtily down your breasts playing with it which elicited a moan from you. " 'm just so so happy i'm with you, i've wanted this for so long," you said. the two of you stayed in the bathtub for a while whispering sweet nothings and being playful with each other, especially the lingering touches all over each other but you and johnny were too tired for the night to go for a round two.

[9:00pm]

as soon as you two got out of the tub, he lent you a towel and that's when it dawned on you. you had nothing to wear for the night. hell, you didn't expect a simple dinner and a few glasses of wine would lead to this. "you can wear one of my shirts, angel." johnny said looking up at you in the mirror as he was doing his skincare routine, it's like he read your mind. "i never pegged you for a skincare person honestly," you laughed a little. "_______, i'm full of surprises." he winked at you. slowly, you went to his closet and grabbed the nearest shirt you could find and chose it. the shirt smelled just like johnny and was a little big on you. as soon as you were settled, you laid on his bed. "angel, you look so cute wearing my clothes. you're so small." he cooed at you which made you blush. he only wore sweatpants to bed and the two of you laid there, your hand tracing random circles on his chest as your fingertips gradually traveled to his abs. "why are you smiling?" you asked, almost mumbling.

"nothing, it's just...i know we've only spent the entire night together and i can't help but want you here more often." he said as he kissed the crown of your head and played with your hair. "johnny suh, is this your way of asking me to be your girlfriend?" you shifted your position and you laid on your stomach, feet dangling on the edge of his bed your head on his stomach as you smiled lovingly at him. "yes, what else would it be?" he smiled back at you. "then yes, of course, i'd love to be yours." you got up to straddle him and put your arms around him and immediately kissed him. "so...are you up for a round two?" he asked, feeling johnny get hard under your bare cunt in his shirt again.

[6:00am — sunday at johnny's place]

the two of you made love until the daylight and spent the rest of your morning lazily cuddling each other and had johnny make breakfast for you. in fact, you almost drooled at the sight of his tall and broad toned figure as he cooked and caught you gawking at him so early on a sunday. you only got home to change for a brunch with him but other than that, it was back to his place and a day filled with cuddles and making out with your boyfriend. he's yours just as much as you are his and you wouldn't have it any other way.

#johnny nct smut #johnny nct fluff #johnny suh #johnny nct imagines #nct 127 imagines

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muffin-min · 1 year

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Ok so I saw a post from @skullse-mi that shows a concept of Oswald the rabbit having different jobs in the house of mouse which it something I adored right away. Then I suddenly remembered the house of villains and decided to use co host oswald to make a little scenario on what would happen.

I genuinely headcannon that oswald isn’t in as many shorts compared to mickey and due to not being in many shorts as mickey not many customers know his name or know who he is. Often being referred to as “Mickey’s angry younger brother” which obviously sets him off. People forget to see him as oswald since every time he announces something mickey is always by his side. This was planned originally to showcase their close brotherly bond. As there are many siblings in the audience that are very close they also wanted to share that same thing as they both hold their bond with pride. But this doesn’t go so well he is always known as “Mickey’s brother”. I never saw the house of villains so i’m just going off of the few clips i’ve seen so bare with me. obviously with the villain’s plan in action they gonna try to get oswald on their side as he has just as much control over the club as mickey does. Unlike mickey he keeps the original contract under his possession. God knows how many people go after mickey for stupid reasons and they would probably find the contract in a fly if it was in Mickey’s possession which would be very bad. Also with oswald having 420 bunny kids this makes him very good at hiding things so he holds the contract to the club to keep it safe. Oswald tries to hide the fact his forgotten problem bothers him a great deal, not wanting to bother mickey as they run the club. He always puts himself down by saying to himself that its not a big deal. This grudge does come out intentionally sometimes by trying to one-up mickey in subtle ways or doing more grand entrances. The villains know how Oswald feels about this and use this to their advantage. After some manipulation from Ursula he removes mickey out of the contract and allows the villains to take over in exchange for the fame he’s been wanting for a long time. The villains don’t do their part of the deal and practically use Oswald as a doormat. Oswald realizes his mistake a proceeds to go find mickey and the others to come up with the plan to take the club back. When he finds Mickey is obviously not on good terms. Mickey and the others are angry at him a corner him for an explanation. In true disney fashion Oswald apologizes and explains how he felt for a long time. He apologizes for making it a big deal but mickey turns him down that Oswald’s feelings are valid and it is a big deal that oswald feels this way. They promise to change things once they get the club back and work together to get it back.Things do change when they get back to normal as Oswald starts to announce shorts by himself and gets short only about him. Posters or advertisements would normally show Mickey and Oswald but new ones now shows them separately. and last and not least Mickey would normally say “My brother and I” when referring to him and oswald but now he says “me and oswald” making sure the audience get his name. I would normally draw this but I have no time as school starts to pile up (I have to finish assignments as I write this and I want to throw up but oh well) So take this written headcannon and a doodle of the manipulation scene. I also cant draw the villains well as my personal style is not very flexible and I have to practice drawing them for a little bit. Sorry for the bad Ursula

#oswald the lucky rabbit #oswald rabbit #oswald disney #mickey mouse #house of mouse #disney #oswald #procreate #artists on tumblr

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rustbeltjessie · 1 year

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from Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg (Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg, Bill Morgan & David Stanford)

Allen Ginsberg [n.p., New York, New York?]

to Jack Kerouac [n.p., New York, New York?]

after May 18, 1948

Monday Night : 1:30

Dear Jack:

I got your letter Sat. evening—I had been in Paterson for a few days. I will be in this weekend (in N.Y.).

You seemed overly proud that it was “ancient material.” What I was saying in part (lesser part) was that it was not recognizable (to me in your prose) but but but. This is not the same old maturity that I (as [Bill] Gilmore) have been talking about before. This is something I wouldn’t have the slightest idea if Gilmore would understand and don’t care much. But you are right, perhaps it’s under my nose in you. This is a kick I don’t want to continue.

School is over and I have been reading Dante, which I have found very inspiring. I finished the Divine Comedy during the term, and am reading books including The Vita Nuova (New Life) [by Dante Alighieri]. I dreamed up an enormous tentative plan tonight, which I will tell you about. My interest in reading is the profit by other men’s experience. I sometimes find (only “lately) authors talking directly to me, from the bottom of their minds. I think I am going to write a sonnet sequence. I want to read Petrarch and Shakespeare, Spencer and Sidney, etc. and learn about sonnets from beginning to end, and write a series on love, perfectly, newly conceived. I conceived the whole idea all at once seeing the first word in a title embedded in a page of the Vita Nuova: my poems have always been prophesied by their titles. That is, a poem often has a single “transcendent, personal, and serious idea” behind it, as a novel—a single image. I want to celebrate my “lovers” in all various manners, intellectually, wittily, passionately, raptly, nostalgically, pensively, beautifully, realistically, “soberly,” enthusiastically, etc., every possible perception fitted out in inwrought, clear, complex stanzas—including the one as yet undefined or un-stated mood, or better, knowledge, that I have and that at times you are aware that I have, no matter how silly I get. The title of this is: “The Fantasy of the Fair.” Just repeat it aloud, it carries the whole idea in it. One of the major ideas is the dynamic sense of “Lucien’s “Face” which you once propounded to me and which I half understood at the time. I want to formulate it poetically, if possible as the end of the poem, but without any private or subjective, or N.Y. idea of L.I. [Long Island] use the name to bridge at the moment. I am talking about humanity, and beginning to try to write in eternity.

I have been enduring a series of troublesome dreams lately about Neal [Cassady]. Your notice comes at about the crisis of them, though it is not a passional crisis and is accompanied by no tempests of intellect. I wonder what he is doing in his eternity. I feel so far away from people, without loneliness, that I am rather happy now. [ . . . ]

I’m not worried about the theory of writing, I am only just vering the practice. The Doldrums are antiquated. For that reason I am sending poetry out for the first time. I got my first rejection slip from Kenyon; a note from J.C. Ransom, editor and poet: “I like very much this slow, iterative, organized and reflective poem. At times it’s like a sestina. Thank you for sending it. But still I think it’s not “for us exactly. I guess we need a more compacted thing.”

I had sent them “Denver D. [Doldrums]” but, as luck would have it, I have some compacted things around that he will get next week.

Your season sounds beautiful. I particularly wish I had seen Lucien so drunk. Make what you want out of that.

No, it sounded like you. (Some one is singing a ditty “So please pass a little piece of pizza”) and it makes me wish I were alive, that’s why I can’t say any more.

Everybody’s fine, but it’s sweet, beautiful, but not so dumb, this world. Lucien means dumb because we don’t know what we know. I mean, won’t admit how much we know.

White said that Scribner’s rejected you, too, just like the goil. Can I see the novel [The Town and the City]? But don’t worry, it really don’t mean a thing. That’s my opinion.

Grebsnig

#quotations #typography #letters #allen ginsberg #jack kerouac #god this gives me so many feelings

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thelazyhermits · 2 years

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I’ve got another Fortune (Yuu) in Twisted Wonderland post cause I finished watching videos of the Halloween event with the Magicam Monsters yesterday and I wanted to do my version of that event.

First off, I wanna say that I realize this event should technically happen not long after Yuu arrives at NRC since school started in Aug/Sept, but since Twst events seem to have a timeline of their own, considering the character interactions imply that more than just a few months have transpired, I’m gonna ignore the timeline and just say that Yuu is on friendly terms with all the dorms in this event after having gone through all or the majority of the canon story events with them.

This way Yuu can have plenty of fun times with everyone before the Magicam Monsters arrive and because I like the thought of everyone being displeased with the Ramshackle dorm’s treatment during this incident.

Anyway, I see things starting off with one of Yuu’s & Malleus’s usual nightly strolls/chats over tea. At random, he asks her if she is familiar with Halloween.

While Yuu is familiar with the holiday, she has never actually celebrated it. The closest she came would be participating in masked cage fights which involved the fighters and the audience members wearing masquerade masks, although oftentimes the spectators would dress up for Halloween for fun too.

She, of course, doesn’t actually tell Malleus that last tidbit since she prefers to keep her past a secret.

Upon hearing that Yuu has never gotten to enjoy Halloween, Malleus promises her that she will get that experience this year, and his way of fulfilling that promise is by choosing Ramshackle dorm as his dorm’s stamp station.

He doesn’t actually tell her about his plans, but Yuu is smart enough to figure things out when she and Grim come home one day to find Diasomnia decorating Ramshackle for Halloween.

This makes Yuu happy and excited since she’ll finally get to celebrate Halloween, with actual friends, something she has always wanted to do.

Now, like in all my other stories, Yuu has a fear of horror due to Mumei sometimes punishing her by forcing her to watch countless horror movies since he enjoyed scaring her and laughing at how easily scared she got.

Considering that, you’d think Halloween would be her least favorite day, but that’s actually not quite true.

Yuu honestly really likes the idea of dressing up in costumes and giving/receiving candy. She thinks the whole concept of the holiday is very interesting and fun.

The only time she would be really scared is if someone tried to scare her by surprising her since she is easily startled. Jump scares will get her every time, which is why haunted houses are a no go lol

Also, if costumes are scary, then that will have an effect on her too, but if someone she knows is wearing them, then she’ll eventually get used to it. It’s mostly just that initial exposure that scares her.

Plus, I personally didn’t think any of the costumes from the Halloween event were all that scary, so I think Yuu would be fine with them.

Kalim, for sure, she wouldn’t be afraid of because he looks so cute as a werewolf. When he tries to scare her when she first visits Scarabia’s stamp station, he succeeds in startling her, but once she gets over that initial surprise, all she can think is how cute he is so she ends up hugging him without thinking lol

(Yuu is weak towards anything she finds cute. More often than not, she has zero impulse control, which is why her hugging Grim is per the norm and how he can get away with so much stuff, even though she does get plenty exasperated with him.)

Kalim would probably complain a little since she’s supposed to be scared, but considering how he is, he’d probably be happy just to see her happy so he just goes along with it in the end.

(Hugging is completely normal for these two since Kalim is very physically affectionate, and Yuu is touch starved so she naturally gravitates toward this ball of sunshine.)

Speaking of costumes, it was never mentioned what kind Yuu was given in canon, but I’m just gonna say that Yuu gets a witch costume since that would match well with Grim’s costume.

In canon, the ghosts said they made the costumes using scraps they found in the house, but I figure it would take more than just that to make a full costume for Yuu so I like the idea of them getting help from Sam who charges the supplies to Crowley cause it’s Crowley’s fault that Ramshackle never got a heads up about Halloween and Sam thinks he should at least make sure they get proper costumes lol

So, once they get their costumes, Yuu & Grim enjoy the first day of Halloween Week like in canon, and she gets to see everyone in their costumes and enjoy all the festivities.

During her visit to Pomefiore’s stamp station, Vil takes notice of the fact that Yuu’s not wearing any makeup which he disapproves of since a good Halloween costume isn’t complete without makeup.

Since he can’t leave the stamp station, Vil orders Rook to take care of getting some makeup put on Yuu, and Rook is all too happy to comply. Yuu is also given some makeup to take home with her, so she can do it herself for any other day she decides to walk around in her costume.

The first few days of Halloween week are fun, making Yuu & Grim believe their first Halloween will be a great one, but then, things eventually start to go downhill.

The morning of the fourth day of Halloween week, Yuu gets a vision, showing her some of the incidents that will be happening that day with the Magicam Monsters.

Obviously, Yuu needs to warn Crowley about what’s going to happen. While there really isn’t anything they can do to prevent the Magicam Monsters from appearing, everyone at least can prepare themselves for what’s going to happen.

After she has the vision, Yuu quickly seeks out Cater since her vision showed her that he was clearly the most knowledgeable about the Magicam Monsters, so she figured bringing him along to meet with Crowley would be the wisest choice of action since Cater would understand what’s going on better than she could explain.

Thankfully, this isn’t like her Overblot visions where she’ll feel immense pain thanks to her Quirk’s drawback if she reveals the contents of her vision. As a result, she’s able to tell them about what’s going to happen in the near future.

Regrettably, since it’s such short notice, nothing can really be done to stop the Magicam Monsters except for the methods that were used in canon. However, things at least are slightly less chaotic because everyone knew ahead of time that things were about to get crazy.

Things only get worse from there when the Magicam Monsters start breaking and entering into Ramshackle, which keeps Yuu and Grim preoccupied for the rest of the day and the following day.

The Magicam Monsters even start showing up in the middle of the night, resulting in Yuu/Grim losing sleep. Yuu also starts eating less due to the stress of the situation causing her to lose her appetite and get stomach cramps. Plus, there were also times when the Magicam Monsters would show up just as she was about to eat, so she’d forget about eating in favor of stopping the intruders.

Since the use of physical force would result in the police getting involved, Yuu can’t just beat up the home invaders despite how much she’d like to as her patience gets progressively thinner.

Instead, she just has to do whatever else she can to get them out of the dorm with various levels of success. As a result, Yuu ends up with plenty of bruises and scratches due to being knocked around by the Magicam Monsters when they come stampeding into the dorm. Poor girl even gets stepped on by a girl wearing heels at one point.

However, on the night of the fifth day of Halloween week, close to midnight, Yuu, who’s barely slept the night prior and has been dealing with this nonsense for two full days now, finally reaches her limit.

(Normally, it takes a lot for her to really lose her cool since she’s a pretty patient person. The main exception to that rule is when she’s dealing with perverts since, due to having to deal with a lot of them in the underworld and not being able to fight back since they were a source of income for Mumei, Yuu absolutely can’t stand them and will lash out if a guy ever tries anything untoward with her.)

On this night, Yuu reaches the end of her patience due to the umpteenth home/dorm invasion which consists of a group of guys’ refusing to listen to her requests to leave and because one of them suggests a new Magicam challenge where people come by and get a friendly picture with the Ramshackle’s security guard, which is the title Yuu has earned for herself over the last two days.

The guy has the nerve to throw an arm around Yuu’s shoulders, claiming that a cheek kiss picture will be super popular and be hard for anyone else to beat.

Of course, Yuu doesn’t let him get very far with his plans since she has finally had enough.

In a blink, she has him by the collar and brings his face close to hers, glaring all the while. “If you don’t leave here in the next ten seconds, I’ll not only make it so that none of you will ever be able to have children but also ensure that the pain I inflict upon you will be felt in your very bones for the rest of your entire life.”

Normally, Yuu isn’t considered a “scary” individual thanks to her motherly personality. However, when she’s mad, like really mad, she can be just as scary as the most intimidating NRC students.

Of course, it also helps that she chooses to activate her Quirk while she’s making her threat, which causes her eyes to start glowing a bright red since that’s what happens when she uses her Quirk while angry.

Naturally, anyone would find the sight of someone’s eyes suddenly turning red to be frightening especially when that person is wearing the kind of scary expression that Yuu is wearing.

Jumping to the conclusion that Yuu is actually a demon or a human possessed by a demon, all the Magicam Monsters promptly vacate the premises. As they’re leaving, she yells that they better not be so disrespectful toward women ever again or trespass on other people’s property.

Thanks to her using her Quirk, Yuu doesn’t have to worry about facing any backlash for threatening the Magicam Monsters because they truly thought they had a dangerous supernatural encounter, which is why they have no intention to ever return to Ramshackle.

After the Magicam Monsters leave, Yuu suddenly starts laughing which makes Grim cautiously back away from her because he thinks she has finally lost it lol

Fortunately, Yuu has not lost her mind due to recentful stressful events. The reason she’s laughing is because she finally knows how to get rid of the Magicam Monsters thanks to what just happened.

The only way to get rid of the intruders is to make it so that they don’t want to be here. They have to make it so that the Magicam Monsters want to leave.

And the only suitable way to do that is by scaring them since that’s what Halloween is all about.

“If those Magicam Monsters want a haunted house, I’ll give them a haunted house, one that will be in their nightmares for many weeks to come. Hehe~”

After enlisting Grim and the Ramshackle ghosts’ help, Yuu comes up with a plan that involves the use of her Quirk, Grim’s blue fire which can look like will-o’-the-wisps, and the ghosts’ ability to move things without being detected.

Making uses of the makeup Rook gave her and one of the old fashioned nightgowns that came with the dorm, Yuu makes herself appear like the typical ghost girls you’d see in horror movies.

Yuu uses all the knowledge she has on horror movies to put together the scariest setup for the dorm, which includes the typical scary sounds, unusual movement from an undetectable source, and a sudden decrease in temperature which is doable thanks to the ghosts’/Grim’s magic.

After midnight, the next group of Magicam Monsters arrive, eager to visit the haunted Ramshackle dorm at such a spooky hour.

Once the Magicam Monsters are inside, the ghosts slam the front door closed and lock it without being noticed. The Magicam Monsters get excited since they think this is all a part of the spooky experience.

That excitement slowly dwindles, however, when the Ramshackle ghosts never appear before them like they were expecting. Instead, lots of spooky things start to happen, and the temperature suddenly drops to the point they can see their breath.

After the will-o’-the-wisps appear, Yuu finally makes her debut by suddenly dropping down from the ceiling which is where she had been hiding thanks to the ghosts’ magic.

Her sudden appearance startles the Magicam Monsters, and they only get more frightened when Yuu creepily smiles and expresses how happy she is to see humans in her new home.

A demon like her can only come out at night because she used up so much of her power traveling to Ramshackle which she has made into her new home, so Yuu was sad that she had been missing out on feasting on everyone who’s been hanging around Ramshackle so she can regain her lost energy.

Since there have been so many rule breakers, Yuu had hopes that just as people sneaked into Ramshackle when they weren’t supposed to during the day there would also be people who might try to sneak into the dorm after hours despite the school being closed to the public.

Yuu is soooooo happy that she was right! Now, she doesn’t have to go out and hunt for her next meal since they came straight to her.

Eyes glowing a sinister red, Yuu grins as she licks her lips. “Thank you for the meal~”

Just as she hoped, the Magicam Monsters are utterly terrified and don’t hesitate to run away from her. With the help of the ghosts’ magic, Yuu flies after the intruders. Meanwhile, Grim fires off some fireballs, making it look like they’re coming from Yuu.

Because the front door is locked, the Magicam Monsters have to escape through a conveniently opened window. All the while, Yuu yells at them to come back and that she won’t allow them to escape.

Once the Magicam Monsters are out of the area, Yuu and the others start laughing and celebrating over a successful scare. While Yuu hates being scared, she must admit it’s pretty fun being the one doing the scaring.

Unfortunately, that’s not the last of the Magicam Monsters, so most of the rest of the night is spent with Yuu remaining awake, scaring them away from Ramshackle.

As a result, Yuu is totally exhausted when morning finally arrives. Not only that, she’s battling a headache and a slight fever due to how often she used her Quirk last night.

Even though they were successful in scaring away the Magicam Monsters, Grim is still fed up with their situation. That’s why he goes to the Halloween Committee meeting to complain like he does in the game.

Yuu had tried to stop him since she knows it’s not their fault, but since there was no reasoning with him, she just ended up tagging along to ensure Grim didn’t cause too much trouble for everyone.

Obviously, Yuu isn’t really in a very good mood either, but she’s at least rational enough that she knows complaining to the committee won’t accomplish anything. Plus, she knows they’ve been working hard these last few days like her, which is why she had refrained from making any complaints to them up until this point.

Like in canon, the meeting gets cut short due to what happens to the Great Seven statues. After everyone sees what happens with the statues, the teachers start to consider cancelling the party and leave to have a staff meeting on the matter, with Yuu making sure to ask if the party could still happen if the Magicam Monsters problem is solved before they leave like in canon.

Things diverge from canon when, as the students are trying to think of what to do to get rid of the Magicam Monsters that doesn’t involve using magic/brute force, Yuu bluntly tells them to just scare the Magicam Monsters away.

“Halloween is all about scaring, right? Just do that with them. It worked with me and Grim last night, so I’m sure it’ll work again if you play your cards right.”

(So she basically steals the Octotrio’s thunder which probably disappoints them lol)

This leads to the guys questioning Yuu about what happened last night, so she gives a quick summary about what happened, with Grim throwing in his own two cents.

The guys’ reactions are a variation of impressed, amused, awed, and slightly intimidated after hearing what she did since it’s obviously no small feat to get rid of those Magicam Monsters. Plus, her threat, which she repeated for them, was pretty scary from a guy’s POV lol

They’re also impressed that Yuu was able to come up with a way to scare off all the other Magicam Monsters that came last night considering she didn’t have a lot to work with or a lot of time to plan.

I could see Floyd wishing that he had gotten invited to help cause he would’ve loved helping scare all the Magicam Monsters lol Meanwhile, Ace is wondering how someone like Yuu who’s so bad with horror can be so good at scaring people haha

Someone makes the comment that this would explain why Yuu has been yawning a lot this morning, but Grim quickly explains it isn’t just because of last night. It’s because they’ve both barely gotten any sleep the last two days due to all the dorm invasions.

Some of the guys start to get a little worried on Yuu’s behalf when they hear that since they realize she does look pale.

After looking her over, Ruggie, who’s eyeing her suspiciously, asks when was the last time she ate, and she tells him she had breakfast to which Grim argues that all she had was a piece of toast which she only took a few bites of.

When Grim proceeds to reveal that Yuu has hardly eaten anything since the Magicam Monsters showed up, Yuu tries to stop him but because she turns toward him too quickly she ends up getting dizzy and almost falls over.

Fortunately, Ruggie grabs onto her, preventing her from falling. Yuu thanks him and tells him she’s okay now, but he doesn’t believe that for a second.

Which is why Ruggie proceeds to scoop her up into a bridal carry and announces that she’s going to Savanaclaw where he’ll make sure she’ll sleep and eat.

Yuu tries to protest since she still needs to go to class, but Ruggie ignores her and tells Leona and Jack to give him an update when everyone figures out what the plan is for dealing with the Magicam Monsters.

When Ruggie runs off with Yuu, Grim goes after them since that’s his henchman Ruggie is running off with and like hell he’s going to class if she’s not lol

(I feel like Ruggie would be the best person for doing this since Savanaclaw has a spare room that Yuu has used before. Plus, he’s the type who can’t just see a girl, who’s in bad shape, and not do something, especially if it’s a girl he’s friends with. Plus, Leona would’ve given him the order to do this anyway, even if Ruggie hadn’t taken action.)

After Yuu has left, the guys realize just how bad the Ramshackle situation has been. Because they’ve been so caught up in dealing with the Magicam Monsters on their end, they didn’t realize just what Yuu/Grim had been going through these last two days.

Sure, the Diasomnia guys knew to an extent, but they didn’t realize there were Magicam Monsters sneaking in at night to break into the dorm. If they did, Malleus would be even more pissed than he already is, which is why no one is looking forward to breaking the news to him lol

This was the main reason I wanted this AU where the timeline is different since I wanted all the guys to be upset on Yuu’s behalf, even if it doesn’t noticeably change anything that happens in canon as far as their plans to scare off the Magicam monsters are concerned, although I guess some of the guys might be even scarier since they’re mad haha

While the guys are getting ready to make their move at the end of the day, Yuu spends the day at Savanaclaw mostly sleeping. She was so exhausted she ended up falling asleep in Ruggie’s arms shortly after he took off with her.

When she’s not sleeping, Ruggie is making sure she eats, and she doesn’t argue with him since she knows he’s just worried about her. Plus, she does feel better after having finally gotten some good sleep.

I like the idea of, during this time, Trey/Jade/Jamil bringing some food over to Savanaclaw for Yuu since they wanna check on her/make sure she’s eating and resting. Plus, it’d be like a dorm pride thing since they can’t just let Savanaclaw take all the glory lol

Which is why I could see Rook, Ortho, and Sebek dropping by, with Sebek being the one responsible for bringing notes from the classes that Yuu/Grim missed. Lilia probably gave him the idea since Malleus would be even more sad if his dear friend’s studies suffered because of recent events.

(Most of these guys I picked since they aren’t on the Halloween Committee. Jade is the exception, but I figured Azul would want him to go rather than Floyd since Jade is less likely to cause trouble in enemy territory lol)

Aside from this, everything goes the same as canon. When it comes time for everyone to enact their plans to scare the Magicam Monsters, Yuu decides to watch Savanaclaw have their fun with the Magicam Monsters while Grim joins in on the scaring in other areas on campus like he did in the game since he wanted some more revenge.

Yuu/Grim end up staying the night at the Savanaclaw dorm since nobody wanted to take the risk of someone breaking and entering Ramshackle that night and leaving Yuu/Grim forced to deal with it.

Thankfully, when Halloween Day arrives, no Magicam Monsters show up, so the party isn’t cancelled just like in canon.

When Yuu/Grim, who are back at Ramshackle by this point in time, get this good news, Vil/Cater/Jade surprise them when they get pulled into the parade they planned for today and end up riding on the float with the three upperclassmen.

This really helps turn things around for Yuu/Grim when it comes to their perception of Halloween since they have a great time on the parade float, and they have even more fun during the big party that follows after it.

For the most part, nothing is different about the party, although I could see some of the guys checking in on Yuu to make sure she’s doing alright/having fun. Meanwhile, Ruggie is just shoving food at her whenever he sees her lol

Maybe Yuu would also be given a break from being on constant Grim monitoring duty since she definitely deserves it haha

One thing I would want to change is how Leona gets in a bad mood following Cheka’s phone call. Before he can leave the party, Yuu notices his sour mood and immediately approaches him to help cheer him up since she doesn’t like seeing him in the kinds of moods that usually follow anything related to his family.

Yuu tries to distract him from his bad mood by scaring him, but she’s not scary at all so he just finds her attempt amusing, which is what she was hoping for.

However, she was not hoping for all the cheek pulling he proceeds to do as he makes fun of her for her poor excuse of a roar. (which for some reason was something everyone was doing in that event no matter what they were dressed as. The “Gao~” was more adorable than scary 😂) Plus, he’s gotta get back at her for daring to try to scare someone like him, especially with such a pitiful attempt.

Normally, this is how Yuu’s attempts to cheer Leona go. He just ends up messing with her for a while since he enjoys bullying her, affectionately 😂Obviously, Yuu enjoys seeing a grin on Leona’s face, but she wishes it wouldn’t always come at her expense lol

Ruggie eventually comes to Yuu’s rescue, telling Leona to knock it off because Yuu won’t be able to eat if her cheeks are sore.

Upon realizing that Ruggie wants her to eat even more, Yuu is comically horrified because she has already eaten so much at his insistence. Vil is going to kill her if he finds out how many calories she has consumed at such a late hour lol

When Yuu comments that she’ll need to run a marathon to burn off all the calories she’s consumed, Jack joins the conversation since talks about exercise always get his attention haha

It’s around this time that Yuu finds out that Jack’s been feeling guilty about what happened to her, because he feels like he could’ve prevented it. The reason he feels that way is because for the last few mornings Yuu hasn’t joined Jack for their usual morning run.

After that first sleepless night, Yuu had texted Jack that she wouldn’t be able to join him for the next few days. She did this because she didn’t want him to notice how exhausted she was or the bruises/scratches she ended up with thanks to the Magicam Monsters.

Jack knows that Yuu isn’t the type to cancel things for no good reason, so he should’ve known that something was wrong. However, because he was so caught up on what to do with the Magicam Monsters on his end, he never gave her situation the consideration he should have.

Yuu is quick to assure him that she’s the one at fault because she wanted to avoid people noticing that something was wrong. She especially didn’t want to trouble Jack when he already had so much on his plate.

Since she feels bad for worrying him, Yuu promises not to keep secrets like that from Jack anymore, and he promises to do the same since it’s only fair.

Later on, Yuu ends up alone with Malleus who sought her out since he wanted to apologize for what Yuu went through since he feels responsible, but Yuu is quick to assure him that she doesn’t blame him and tells him that she appreciated him wanting to help her enjoy Halloween.

She makes sure he knows that she had a wonderful first Halloween and is grateful to him for the role he played in ensuring this happened.

However, it will be even more fun if she gets to properly hang out with Malleus so she makes sure he doesn’t disappear on her like he does in the game.

It was a crazy Halloween to say the least, but in the end, Yuu will look back on it fondly since she made way more good memories than bad ones thanks to all the great friends she has made.

#TABF AU #fortune in twisted wonderland #poor yuu and grim went through a lot in that event #and I just felt they should've gotten a little more attention #but I loved malleus being pissed on yuu's behalf #nobody messes with his child of man and gets away with it lol

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pekeleke · 2 years

Text

All In Good Time.

Author: pekeleke

Rating: T for language.

Pairing(s): Severus Snape/Harry Potter.

Challenge: N/A

Word Count: 9085

Content: Unrequited/requited love. Pinning. Getting together. Birthday fic.

Disclaimer: The characters, setting and the HP franchise as a whole are owned by JKR and not by me. I make no profit from writing this piece of fanfiction.

Summary: Severus grows flustered under Potter's unapologetic look of adoration and doesn't much care for his own awkwardness. He rarely finds himself tongue-tied and isn't particularly happy with the idea that the mere presence of an idiot who is twenty years his junior might be enough to affect him so profoundly.

A/N: Written in celebration of Harry Potter's birthday. Have a lovely day, Harry! ❤️

Read on Ao3

All In Good Time.

Six months before Severus's mental deadline, he walks into his chambers to the latest reminder of Potter's mulish stubbornness. It's February the fourteenth, and right there, on his personal desk, sits this year's lovely bouquet of pink camellias. Severus stills in the doorway, thrown, as usual, by the acute sense of disbelief he still feels every time that bloody Gryffindor uses a particular date to remind him of the misguided, youthful, vow Potter made almost six years ago.

'I love you. And I will wait all my life for you if I have to, Severus Snape.'

Severus sighs and closes the door. He leans against the fire-warmed wood and allows his head to thunk rhythmically against it, half in guilt-induced self-punishment, half in disparaging acceptance of a truth he's not certain he's ready yet to acknowledge. Potter meant it. All those years ago. And he still means it today.

That relentless brat has dared to send him pink camellias again, on bloody Valentine's day of all days. These blooms are a message of longing. A reminder of Potter's open admiration, of a faithfulness the Gryffindor has decided to grant him even though Severus himself never asked him for it.

Does Severus deserve Potter's constancy? He doesn't think so, but is starting to desire it regardless with a desperation that makes him feel like a monster. If Potter stays, if his affections remain steady until the very day Severus has decided will be the last time he doubts him, then Harry Potter has always been in love with him, and Severus put him through the equivalent of an emotional grinder instead of cherishing him like a saner wizard would have done.

Will he be proud of his actions six months from now? Severus doubts it. He isn't proud of his actions even now. But he's a scared, bitter arsehole who can't give his heart away on faith alone. Therefore Potter has to prove himself on Severus's exacting terms, and, so far, despite Severus's expectations to the contrary, Potter has managed to do so with flying colors.

Potter grows bolder every year. Older too. The savior has become more assertive and independent since he left school. They don't see each other very often, but it's hard to avoid full knowledge of what goes on in the Gryffindor's life when the man is still the favorite topic of conversation in every newspaper, magazine, and gossiping matron in wizarding Britain.

In a move that had shocked the entirety of the wizarding world, Voldemort's bane decided not to join the Aurors after finishing Eighth Year. He'd traveled to France instead and spent three years there, learning the craft he's now widely respected for in the relative anonymity of the continent before returning to England with as little fanfare as possible and purchasing the little shop he runs in Godric's Hollow.

Harry Potter has become a wand maker. One of the best if the hype is to be believed. Severus has seen some of his work, carried by the youngest of Hogwart's students, but he himself doesn't have need for his services and doesn't particularly wish to ever do so. Severus is highly attached to his trusty old wand and, unlike some of his colleagues who claim their prewar sticks no longer suit their needs, has no plans to replace it, thank you very much.

Still, certain social events can't be avoided, and Potter attends every one of them religiously. Severus's crippling self-consciousness makes him reluctant to assume the brat does so to catch a glimpse of him, but since Potter does very little socializing at these soirees; contenting himself with exchanging stilted pleasantries with Severus for as long as humanly possible and staring longingly at him from the other side of the room the rest of the time, it's becoming increasingly hard to deny the obvious.

Potter's self-confessed postwar crush on him wasn't the misguided form of hero-worship Severus had assumed. And now, almost six years on, it's still alive and all the more tempting because the affection comes not from a boy, heartbroken and war-weary, but from a confident young man who seems to have taken the advice Severus gave him when he'd rejected his advances to heart. Harry Potter has allowed himself the time to grow up. He gifted himself enough time to heal and see the world. Enough time to learn exactly who he is, who he wants to be, and what, precisely, he needs to do to find that oft-elusive treasure: happiness.

Severus himself hasn't found happiness yet. He's convinced he doesn't deserve it and has no clue what steps will help him find it. Still, every so often, usually whenever Potter strikes again, Severus catches a glimpse of something other than the same old routine of brewing, teaching, and dutifully representing Hogwarts whenever he's called to do so. With every passing year, the titillating hints of a nebulous future where he'd be showered with pink camellias every Valentine's day by a thoroughly besotted Harry Potter sound more and more appealing.

Severus has now lived a third of his life in loveless neglect. If there is something he craves, it's devotion. And he still has it. At least for today. Will he still have it tomorrow? Severus doesn't know, and his gut sinks to the soles of his feet with the sudden realization that he's risking Potter's love on a foolish, self-sabotaging gamble.

Severus has wanted nothing more than to grab onto Potter for about a year now. Severus wants him. Here, in person. Close enough to touch if he feels so inclined. But Severus can't reach out for him yet. Not yet. He will not risk his heart on a short-lived affair. If Potter deserts him now, he will never be the partner Severus needs, and that's alright with him too. Severus would rather be alone than second-guess the sincerity of the man he's starting to love with enough fierceness to frighten him.

The flowers come with no card. Potter has never bothered to sign his romantic offerings, yet Severus doesn't doubt they came from him. They're such an in-your-face declaration, a simple yet bold reminder of a promise Potter seems to have made in good faith: 'I will wait all my life for you.'

Severus hadn't trusted the words back then. His willingness to do so had come later. Potter's stubborn constancy has slowly but certainly crushed Severus's initial conviction that the Gryffindor had mistaken a passing fancy for love. Severus had rejected him mercilessly at the time, hoping the hurt would launch the newly minted Savior Of The Wizarding World straight into the arms of a more appropriate, more deserving, romantic interest. Severus has failed abysmally at pushing Potter away. He should have remembered the one thing he finds most vexing about Harry Bloody Potter: the dammed git doesn't know how to quit.

Severus shakes his head, attempting to dispel his maudlin thoughts. He allows himself one more sigh, a slight sound that's equal parts exhausted exasperation and ever-growing relief, before he approaches his desk. Severus brushes the tip of a delicate pink petal with reverent, potion-tainted fingertips and wonders, not for the first time this year, if he's strong enough to take this. To enjoy it without the crippling guilt of knowing himself to be caging a beautiful man half his age.

Will Severus bloom in the warmth of Potter's unbridled affection or wilt under it? Unable to fully accept what he knows himself to be thoroughly unworthy of. Severus doesn't know the answer to that question; doesn't particularly care for the suspicion that he won't know it for sure until the day he takes action, one way or the other.

Severus doesn't want to ruin Potter's life any further. Still, he'd made himself a promise all those years ago, too. And he has every intention of finding enough courage to honor it. If Potter meant his love confession, if the brat is still sniffing around him by the time he turns twenty-five, Severus has promised himself to trust Potter's affection to be genuine. Potter has made it this far, but he's got six more months to go. Severus can't honestly decide if he'd rather have Potter pass his self-protective test or not. The idea of accepting Potter's love at face value, of trying his best to return it, scares the hell out of him.

May the second dawns unseasonably warm. To Severus's utter disgust, the day is determined to display an indecorous amount of sunny skies. Yes, the side of the light won the war, and therefore sunshine fits the bill of a properly triumphant victory celebration. Still, they lost so many lives during the final battle. So much youthful innocence and magical promise was tainted forever on this very lawn, that Severus finds the cheerful brightness in poor taste. Mourning is a somber affair and should be conducted in appropriate gloominess. Where is a good British spring rain when one needs it? Nowhere in sight. That's where.

"Typical!" Severus grumbles under his breath as he stomps across the lawn, grimly aware of Minerva's warning glare. He's already received the usual lecture about reining his sharp tongue until the guests depart. His position as Hogwarts' deputy headmaster means everything he says in such an exalted company may affect the funding for the next school year. Severus often wonders why Minerva bothered to offer him the position if she has so little faith in his ability to rub shoulders with the politically minded without causing offense. Severus is Slytherin, for Merlin's sake. He's perfectly capable of charming influential people whenever the mood strikes him. That's how he remained a spy for twenty bloody years. He's even got the Order Of Merlin, First Class, to prove it.

Severus listens with only half an ear to Kingsley's dull speech about the power of hope and the ministry's efforts to reconcile the younger, more open-minded, and inclusive generation of wizards with the more traditional part of the population. Under Minerva's gimlet stare, Severus applauds with false enthusiasm. He knows, just like Shaklebolt himself must know, that the ministry is tooting the wrong horn despite their flowery language. Today, Wizarding tradition isn't ready to embrace half-blood culture any more than it was back in the seventies. Expecting it to open its arms to the younger generation's increasingly trending desire to dress, speak, and even party like a muggle is akin to expecting an old, cantankerous crow to swim upriver.

"Long time no see, deputy headmaster," Potter's greeting is a soft-voiced caress that saves Severus from the dullest conversation he's endured in the entire morning. The couple he's been so dutifully entertaining brightens considerably in the savior's presence. Unfortunately, they're out of luck, for Severus can tell by the greedy look in his eye that Potter has no intention whatsoever of wasting his breath on them.

Severus's companions try their best to welcome Potter into their minuscule group of three. Potter could very well play the gracious savior for five minutes and indulge their hero-worship, but he clearly doesn't want to. He flashes them the same charmingly apologetic smile that graces the front page of The Prophet so often these days and proceeds to dash their hopes for further interaction with a firmness he wouldn't have been capable of before he left for France. Severus is secretly impressed. And tickled pink to boot. His company is seldom chosen above that of far more influential people. He's a mere potions professor, after all. And these two sit in the Wizengamot.

"May I borrow the deputy headmaster for a few minutes? I'm in desperate need of his counsel," Potter explains to the poor sods, leaving them no other option but to bend over backward just to accommodate him.

Almost instantly, Severus finds himself alone with The Boy Who Lived And Lived for the very first time this year. It's strange. How Potter has managed to make Severus feel they're getting increasingly closer when they haven’t seen one another in months. Severus grows flustered under Potter's unapologetic look of adoration and doesn't much care for his own awkwardness. He rarely finds himself tongue-tied and isn't particularly happy with the idea that the mere presence of an idiot who is twenty years his junior might be enough to affect him so profoundly.

"You look good," Potter says quietly, gaze so earnest it's impossible to doubt he means every word.

"I look like absolute shit, Potter. I was up till midnight correcting frustratingly ill-constructed essays and had to rise at the crack of dawn to help set up this ridiculous soiree. Now I'm cranky with lack of sleep, and starving to boot, so don't you dare give me any of your usual nonsense."

Potter has the gall to smile at him. A sunny little smirk that reaches all the way into his eyes, making them dance with delight, "My bad. Let me rephrase then: You look remarkably good for a cranky, starving member of the Hogwart's staff."

Severus can't help but huff. His gut twists under the weight of the same unbearably heavy warmth that's become more common in his recent encounters with Potter. The feeling is so suspiciously close to fondness that it takes everything inside him to keep Severus from running away, screaming. He's not afraid of Potter. He's really not. Yet the idea of succumbing to the earnest charm the man bestows upon him so readily terrifies him.

"That's not as funny as you think," Severus replies and then stares helplessly at the Gryffindor, already out of things to say. Severus is too afraid of encouraging the idiot to feel safe asking after his health or the state of his business, but he's also thoroughly unwilling to push him further away. It's a mess. This love business. Waiting for the other shoe to drop is proving much harder than Severus had expected.

"It wasn't jesting, Snape," Potter says softly, "Any day I see you in person is a good day. Even cranky and starving, you're a sight for sore eyes."

Severus swallows uncomfortably, "Don't do that here, Potter."

Potter laughs, and almost six years worth of hurt taint what should have been a happy, bell-like sound, "If not here, then where? I hardly ever get to see you."

Severus stiffens on the receiving end of Potter's unusually bitter tone, "You're the one who vowed to wait, all his bloody life if needs be. You know I'd never hold you to that promise should you wish to move on, Potter," Severus growls more harshly than he intends. He's thoroughly terrified by the unpleasant suspicion that he's waited too long and is about to lose the man after all.

Potter flinches. Shoulders tense and face as white as a freshly laundered Hogwart's sheet, "I will not move on. Not ever. When are you going to accept the truth of it? You've tried everything already and must know by now that there's nothing you can do to push me away," Potter growls right back, "I've only got one heart to give, Snape."

"That's precisely why you should place it in the hands of someone worthy," Severus hisses and isn't at all prepared for the delicate brush of Potter's fingertips against the white knuckles of his closed fists as the Gryffindor leans so impossibly close that their lips would brush against each other's should Potter decide to rise on his tiptoes.

"That's what I did, my love. It's time you stop fighting me on that point. We'll be much happier when you finally do."

"I'm twenty years your senior."

Potter laughs and steps away, looking at him with amusement through his distractingly long eyelashes. "You think I've forgotten our age difference? How could I? You keep throwing it in my face whenever we meet."

"I was your teacher once."

Potter shrugs that away, too, "So? You've been a teacher for ages. Your pool of prospective romantic partners will be non-existent if you refuse to date your ex-students."

"I'm not looking for romance."

Potter's easy-going manner shifts abruptly into a more serious demeanor, " That , I don't believe. Everybody is looking for someone. Settling for loneliness is hard for people like us, Snape. We're capable of loving so fiercely it hurts. It's against our very nature to settle for emotional vacuum."

"Love didn't work for me, though. Loneliness is far easier."

"Is it, really?" Potter asks skeptically, and just that easily Severus's anger sparks.

"Just because you've decided to reach out for the impossible doesn't mean I must share your foolish ambition."

The muscle on the side of Potter's jaw twitches in reaction to Severus's harshness. The savior's shoulders straighten, and his distinctive green gaze turns as hard as flint. Potter's defiance becomes a perfect match for Severus's growing ire, "Why the fuck is it impossible, Snape? The only thing standing in our way is you. You need to get it into your thick skull that there's nothing to fear. I. Am. Here! And I'm not going anywhere. You're unattached, and so am I. I'm gay, and you're bisexual. There's no reason whatsoever to justify your conviction that a relationship between us is doomed to fail."

"Are you out of your mind? I hate your fucking father, Potter. I hate your fame. I hate your inability to understand Potions. Your passion for flying. Your Hogwarts house. I hate everyone and everything that makes your life so idyllically happy. Why would you sacrifice any of those things for me?"

Potter smiles at him sheepishly, and Severus feels like screaming, "You'll never ask me to give any of that up. You can’t, because you don't hate me . And you're a fair, honorable man. The bravest one I've ever met. When will you deign to use that immense courage of yours to meet me halfway, Snape? I can tell you're interested."

"Am I? Maybe you're only seeing what you want to see. That's not healthy, Potter. You can't make anyone love you out of stubbornness. Or clinginess. Believe me. I tried."

Potter's gaze softens with compassion, "But you can love anyone you want from afar with everything that you are. No one knows that better than you, Snape, because you tried that too."

Severus's throat dries with pure panic. He's not strong enough to resist Potter's devotion. He realizes that now. If Potter's love is real enough to have withstood almost six years of studious neglect, he's not going to fail Severus's test. Sheer relief surges through Severus's scrawny chest, right alongside the most crippling sense of inadequacy he's experienced in the last two decades. Severus has spent far too long in self-protective emotional isolation. He's forgotten how to soften his jagged edges. How to give himself away. Does he even have the necessary courage to follow through with his plan? Will he dare to throw caution to the wind and risk his trampled heart on another, far bolder Gryffindor when the time finally comes? What the hell is he going to do when Potter turns twenty-five? That's less than three months away. He's running out of time to push this idiot to safety.

"That's no way to live your life, brat. Haven't you wasted enough of it on me already? Surely there's someone out there who-

"No," Potter cuts him off with a challenging glare, "You may be free to decide not to trust me with your heart, but you don't get to pick on whose hands I place mine. That's not your decision to make."

"Don't play the stubborn fool," Severus growls, "It's unbecoming."

Potter has the gall to laugh at him, "I'll never stop playing the fool for you, Severus Snape. You know I mean it, don't you? I'll wait for you. Always."

It's mid-May when Severus receives his life's second most important letter. The first one had confirmed his mother's reassurances that, despite his despicable father's muggle origins, Severus had been born a wizard and, as such, would be bound for Hogwarts as soon as he turned eleven. This one is equally significant and has the same potential to change his life for the better.

The letter arrives with the regular post on an otherwise unremarkable Wednesday, and, as soon as Severus reads the first paragraph, he freezes to the spot, subject to the type of elated disbelief that washes over us whenever we achieve one of our long-term goals. The missive informs Severus in very official terms that he, Severus Snape, has managed to achieve his every professional dream despite the limited time he dedicates to his craft.

Severus's position at Hogwarts fills his time with the minutia of teaching. It's an exacting, often thankless task he continues to perform not because he loves it but because he knows nothing else by now.

Routine. Direction. Absolution. Companionship. Once upon a time, Severus had needed all that, and Albus had convinced him he'd find it more readily at Hogwarts. And he'd had. The old man hadn't misled Severus on that point. But Albus had failed to warn him that he'd lose the confidence to search for those things elsewhere.

Severus had joined the Hogwart's staff too young. His father's emotional neglect, coupled with the marauders' relentless bullying and the half-blood status that had ensured Severus was never genuinely welcomed by his Slytherin peers, had stunted the development of Severus's self-confidence to the point that he has little to no trust in his social skills outside the area of temporary manipulation. Severus' position at Hogwarts allows him to co-exist with others and earn their respect despite his failures in this area. Thus Severus's dependency on the school keeps him tethered to a job he's grossly overqualified for. A job that doesn't appeal to his academic mind in the slightest. A job he profoundly resents.

Today's letter has the power of shrinking Severus's chronic dissatisfaction with his professional life, swatting it aside like an insignificant, if persistent, fly. Unbeknown to him, St. Mungo's nominated Severus's most recent patent, a nerve-relaxant he'd developed in the hopes of curving the side effects he still suffers from, due to his long-term exposure to the Cruciatus curse, for academic review. The most esteemed members of the evaluating panel at The Royal College Of Potioneers Of Great Britain have now performed said review and published an in-house report that will be shared with the regular college members in the editorial article of the upcoming issue of Potions Quarterly.

It is with great pleasure that the governing council of the Royal College Of Potioneers of Great Britain grants Professor Severus T. Snape, Master of Potions, lifetime membership into the Most Extraordinary Society Of Potioneers. Furthermore, in recognition of his remarkable achievements in the area of Potion Research, Severus will be inducted into the Royal College's wall of fame on September the sixteenth in a public ceremony expected to be hosted by minister Shaklebolt himself.

Severus is speechless. He's frozen to the spot. Mind awhirl with joy and the somewhat disturbing sense that he's not precisely connected to reality. Luck like this has never fallen on his lap before, even though Severus is Slytherin enough to have always coveted it.

Minerva notices Severus's shock and leans sideways in her chair, asking him what's wrong in hushed tones. Severus passes her the letter and stares at her dazedly, waiting for the second she realizes she's in the presence of the most accomplished potioneer of his generation. The headmistress's gaze widens, and she smiles. Not with pride, exactly, no. But with immense satisfaction.

"These are wonderful news, Severus," She gushes, and the small kernel of warmth that's starting to unfurl in Severus' gut freezes, stillborn, when she continues, "We can use it to demand better funding for the potions curriculum next year. You might even get that ventilation system upgrade you've been requesting for ages. Surely the board of governors won't be so willing to dismiss the concerns of a teacher who comes armed with such exalted titles."

Severus feels himself deflate. There's no one here willing to see him not as an asset to Hogwarts but as a man of flesh and blood. An accomplished man at that, one whose triumphs are worth celebrating not for what they bring to the school but for what they mean to him: the culmination of a job well done. The recognition of his ability to ask questions many have failed to ask before him, and find appropriate answers. Severus mumbles some platitude or other and leaves the breakfast table shortly after. All day long, he feels both restless and disappointed. His willingness to settle for the skin-deep contentment that his safe existence brings him shrinks with every breath he takes.

That evening finds Severus sitting in splendid solitude in the privacy of his chambers, rereading his letter again. Severus feels more lonely than ever before. He feels overlooked. Invisible. And slowly comes to accept the disheartening conclusion that he'll never amount to anything should he resign himself to remaining a teacher.

Severus ends up contacting Draco, and his wounded pride finds solace in the genuine delight with which his godson reacts to his good news. Draco steps into Severus's chambers via the Floo, prohibitively expensive bottle of Elvin wine in tow, and they proceed to celebrate Severus's incredible achievement into the wee hours of the morning.

It's only as Severus lays on his bed, waiting drunkenly for sleep to finally claim him, that he wonders what this day would have felt like if he'd shared it with Potter. Potter loves him more ferociously than Draco ever could. He'd have made such a great fuss of him today. Severus would have felt profoundly embarrassed, but not-so-secretly pleased. He'd have felt thoroughly cherished, that's for sure.

Severus can't help but wonder what that would feel like. Cherished. He likes the sound of that. Severus falls asleep, still attempting to imagine the feeling, and dreams of proud green eyes and loving grins. Of things he's never felt before but has always longed for. Things that are now so painfully within reach that he'd be a fool not to grab them. A cowardly fool at that. Despite his Slytherin affiliation, Severus Snape has never been a coward. But he is a fool indeed. And he's not entirely confident he's got the gumption to stop playing that role even if he wants to.

The Potion Quarterly issue containing the academic review of Severus's nerve relaxant comes out on June the first, and Potter reaches out to him so fast that it becomes patently clear Potter must have wrangled a subscription at some point from some poor, hero-worshiping soul.

Severus receives the magazine with his regular post but cannot read it with any degree of concentration before his classes start. Hence, he reluctantly sets it aside, promising himself to examine it in detail after dinner.

The day remains thoroughly unremarkable otherwise. It's so excruciatingly similar to the previous one, and probably to the one that will follow, that Severus feels exhausted just thinking about the infinite blandness that awaits him. Nobody looks at him differently. No one offers him more than a fleeting nod of acknowledgment or stilted congratulations when he shows up for lunch.

When his classes finally end, Severus feels far too restless to remain in his office, as is his custom. He packs up his grading and retreats to the privacy of his chambers. Potter's latest token of affection sits, once again, on his personal desk. It's one of those ostentatious plaques that people like Lucius so often display on their opulent offices. Potter's token is heavy. An exquisitely cut circle of crystal that rests atop an elegant mahogany base. Severus's full name and professional new titles have been painstakingly engraved in delicate cursive right in the middle of the glass. Severus can tell the plaque has been charmed to withstand every kind of damage known to man. Short of Armageddon itself, nothing could destroy this grand proclamation of Severus's academic achievements.

Severus holds the plaque aloft for a very long time and allows himself to bask in the feeling of warmth settling oh-so-firmly in the pit of his stomach. This feels like pride. It's nice. Severus likes the idea that Potter feels proud of him, that the Gryffindor sees Severus's success as part and parcel of Severus himself. Not something to be used for the benefit of the school, but something praiseworthy for its own sake.

'I see you.' That is what this beautiful plaque really says. 'I see you, and I'm proud of you, and I want every single person who sits on the other side of your desk from this day forth to see you the way I do.' Severus can't help the pleased smile that curves his lips upwards as he sets the plaque back down. For the first time since Potter started bribing the castle house elves to deliver random gifts inside his chambers, he's tempted to write the man a formal thank you note.

That's the type of acknowledgment Severus has scrupulously denied Potter throughout the last six years in the honest conviction that it'd do nothing but delay the brat's eventual recovery from the infernal crush that plagues him. Today, though, a mere two months away from Potter's twenty-fifth birthday, Severus decides to yield just a little and hint at an acceptance that's edging ever closer to becoming their new reality. They're so close now. So terrifyingly close. Severus picks up his best quill and pens the first personal note he's ever written to Potter.

The note itself takes mere seconds to compose, but the concession it carries has been years in the making. Severus doesn't know if Potter will be able to understand its subtle meaning, but he sincerely hopes Potter manages it. Severus can't think of any other way to deliver the same message:

'I see you too, Harry Potter. And, by now, I can't 'unsee' you.'

Draco's birthday falls on a Sunday, and he demands Severus indulges his desire for apple-caramel pancakes, so Severus treats him to brunch at the ridiculously overpriced tea-house he loves so much. There will be a lavish party at the mansion later tonight, and Severus will attend that elaborate soiree too, but this outing is for them and them alone. A private moment to strengthen the ties that bind them as surely as they've done since the moment Draco took his very first breath. Severus is listening indulgently to his godson's latest rant regarding the intrusive takeover of his wedding preparations by Astoria’s mother, when Potter suddenly Apparates on the other side of the street and proceeds to frantically scan the crowds.

"And there he is. Harry Potter in the flesh, come to crash my peaceful birthday brunch, as usual," Draco drawls with unmistakable amusement, "Why don't you put the poor sod out of his misery and kiss him stupid already, godfather? The man is clearly smitten with you, and you aren't getting any younger. You won't do better than him, either, so what's the bloody hold-up? I can’t wait to see his face when he finds out he’ll be my godfather by proxy for the rest of his life."

Severus stiffens uncomfortably. He's never discussed this thing that's slowly brewing between himself and Potter with his inner circle. That would have been the type of acknowledgment Severus was unwilling to grant Potter until recently.

"Don't you think he's too young for me?" Severus asks curiously, only for Draco to laugh at him so heartily that Potter's attention finally zeroes on their table.

The smile that lights up the savior's face when his gaze lands upon Severus makes the potioneer blush bashfully. Draco takes one look at his unusual reaction and promptly rises to his feet, "I'm going to the loo, godfather. Feel free to send your Patronus after me as soon as you explain that ridiculous thought process to loverboy. Here is my word of advice, for what is worth: Potter might be young in years, but he's lived the kind of life that ages the soul. He's the right fit for you, Severus. Of that, I have no doubt. Even better, I don't think he'll ever hurt you. I'll stand by your side if you ever decide to take what he so readily offers."

Draco crosses Potter's path on his way to the lav. They exchange a surprisingly friendly couple of sentences that Severus is too far to hear, and by the time Potter reaches his table, Severus feels thoroughly off kilter. He's never been this nervous in Potter's presence before. His crumbling walls no longer offer him the emotional distance Severus used to enjoy, and he's not sure he likes the unexpected change. Opening up to the possibility of Potter has him sweating up a storm.

"Morning, Snape," Potter says softly, drinking him in with the greedy gaze of a man who hasn't seen a glass of water in half a year.

"Good morning, Potter," Severus greets him casually. Tone pitch perfect to display nothing beyond polite civility. Severus has always been a good actor under pressure.

"You should try the lavender and earl gray scones. They've just hired this fancy baker who added them to the menu a couple of months ago. I've got a feeling you'll adore them," Potter babbles, studying the crusts of Severus's simple order of toast as if it holds the answer to the mysteries of the universe.

"How did you know I was here, Potter? How do you always know where I am?"

Potter has the grace to look at him guiltily. He grabs the backrest of Draco's recently vacated chair and motions at it, asking for permission to sit. Severus sighs, nodding his assent with visible ambivalence, and Potter wastes no time lowering himself into the seat.

"I'm sort of stalking you. With a map I made. I got the idea from something my father and his friends crafted ages ago. It's a bit like one of those family clocks; you know the ones. It can't show what you're doing or anything like that, but it tells me where you are at any given moment, which is usually hiding at Hogwarts."

"That's— rather intrusive."

"I know. And I'd be sorry if you weren't such a frustratingly retiring bastard. I never got to see you before I made the stupid thing. Now at least I chat you up for a couple of minutes whenever it pings to say you're outside the school grounds. You don't even go away on vacation, Snape. Do you realize that? How the hell am I supposed to woo you when you live like a freaking hermit?"

"You were never supposed to woo me, you idiot. You were meant to get over your silly crush and live happily ever after."

Potter smiles at him fondly, "I'm afraid that's not possible. All my happily ever afters feature you."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" Severus huffs, relieved and aggrieved in equal parts, "What have I ever done to deserve such loyalty? I treated you abysmally while you were at Hogwarts and haven't done much better since you left."

"You've been trying to protect me. It's what you do, isn't it? You're convinced you're not good enough for me, so you keep pushing me away."

"I'm not good enough for you, you fool. I'm not good enough for anyone."

"That's not for you to decide. Is it, Snape?" Potter replies calmly.

"Of course it is," Severus splutters, feeling flustered and wrong-footed.

"No, it isn't. I keep telling you this, but you're too stubborn to listen: You don't get to choose whether you're worthy of my heart or not. That's my call to make."

"What happens if I take you up on your offer and you suddenly discover that the reality of me doesn't fit whatever besotted fantasy you've concocted in your head?"

"I don't know the answer to that question."

"Don't you?"

"Why should I? I'm no seer. I can tell you that I love you. And that I understand why you're afraid. I can also acknowledge that I've never had the honor of meeting the man I adore properly, but I've glimpsed enough of him to be confident that, even if it's true that I've built him up in my head and the reality of him turns out to be a tad more tarnished than I'm expecting, none of that would be enough to turn me away."

Severus mulls over that answer while Potter fiddles nervously with his napkin, "I'm not very good at— anything romantic, really," He says finally, "You'd be thoroughly disappointed within the week."

Potter's fingertips freeze on the napkin. His green gaze brightens with hope, and his entire body lurches ever so slightly toward Severus's.

"Is that a yes, Snape? Would you finally deign to go out with me?"

Severus barely manages to swallow the lump threatening to choke him. His heart is about to beat right out of his ribcage, and his breathing has turned ever so slightly panicked. He's a mere breath away from chucking his perfectly safe future out the window, and he's not even sure it'd be worth it. Love is such a fucking mess. And Severus doesn't like messes. Does that make him a cautious soul or a fucking coward? He wishes to Merlin he knew the answer to that question.

"It's not a yes. Not yet. But it's not a no, either. That's the best I can do for you today, Potter," Severus replies stiffly. Potter's bright smile dims visibly, and he sags against the backrest of his chair with evident disappointment, but he still fails to curse Severus into next Sunday.

"That's still a better answer than the last one you gave me. If this momentum keeps up, you might throw yourself at me the next time you see me."

That cheeky quip startles a laugh out of Severus, "Then you should run away while you still can, you, fool."

"Not for all the gold in China, deputy headmaster. I'll stick to my guns until you catch up to me. We'll run away together or not at all, Severus Snape."

June the thirtieth finds Severus hovering like a lost soul by Albus's grave. He feels furious at the sense of guilt he can not shake. He's aware he shouldn't be here, yet he's never, so far, managed to stay away on the anniversary of his old mentor's death. Severus places his simple offering, a bunch of wild forget-me-nots he'd gathered on his way over, upon the blindingly white grave and feels like the lowest of the low for daring to tarnish the man's final resting place with his pitiful gift. He's got no right to grieve Albus, and yet, as far as Severus can tell, nobody else has bothered to come.

Is it even murder if your victim all but begged you to kill him? Severus is positively exhausted from trying to figure out that question.

"I guessed I'd find you here," Potter intrudes on his grief, just as Severus's unbearable sense of guilt tips into self-hatred.

"I wouldn't risk present company if I were you, Potter," Severus warns him, yet the brat doesn't heed the words and comes closer instead of Apparating away.

"Then I'd say it's a good thing I'm not you, Snape. I come here every year to watch over you while you beat yourself up over granting the old coot his final wish. I'm sick and tired of hiding behind the bushes despairing the fact that I can't seem to find the nerve to walk over here and hug the living lights out of you. So I'm here to try that now. If you'll let me."

"I killed him. You know that, Potter. You were there, for Merlin's sake," Severus growls, "I lost the right to ask for comfort when I cast the spell that ended him."

"Did you?"

"Of course I did!"

"Hmm. You brought him flowers," Potter points out apropos of nothing, "You do that every year too."

Severus frowns, "What does that have to do with anything?"

Potter looks at him thoughtfully, "You wouldn't bring him flowers if you hadn't forgiven him. Godric knows I'm so fucking mad at him on your behalf that I can't even bring myself to say a prayer for the well-being of his manipulative soul."

Severus stares at the Gryffindor in bewilderment, "What's there for me to forgive Albus for? I'm the one who murdered him, you, idiot."

"He shouldn't have asked that of you. It literally broke your heart, Snape. It's still breaking it if you haven't yet realized you did him a favor. He must have forgiven you for killing him as soon as you agreed to do it."

"You can't possibly know that."

"Neither can you. But he's the only one among us who got exactly what he wanted. Didn't he?"

Severus's gaze sets heavily on the elegant white grave. The pitiful bunch of flowers he's just put there doesn't do their setting justice, yet no other bloom decorates the delicately carved surface, "His brother hasn’t come. I've never seen Aberforth pay his respects. Not even on the anniversary of the headmaster's death. Why doesn't he ever come, Potter?"

Potter steps close enough to take hold of Severus's slightly trembling hand and cradles it against his chest ever so gently. Severus looks at his hand thus cocooned and wonders if it's getting the hug Potter claims to have come here to bestow. A hug the Gryffindor hasn't yet found the courage to gift him directly.

"Dumbledore betrayed everyone he ever knew. It's entirely possible he loved every one of us in his own way, but he never put us first. You're the best one among us. Aren't you, Snape? You're the only one who forgave him. And he doesn't deserve it, but that's not for me to judge."

Severus can't tell where on Earth he finds the energy to swallow the huge lump that settles, like a suffocating pebble, right in the middle of his throat during Potter's little speech. He feels better, though. Less guilty about being here, about wanting to hang onto the memory of this man who once meant so much to him.

"I think I'll take that bloody hug now, Potter," he dares to whisper, and Potter drops the hand he's still cradling against his chest so fast that Severus can't help but laugh. Severus hasn't laughed on June the thirtieth since 1997. As Potter gathers him carefully and presses Severus’s narrow chest against his broad one, Severus allows himself to be grateful for his presence. Potter makes his life more bearable. He's managed to be there during Severus's greatest triumph and darkest hour and somehow got him through both. That is the truth of it, isn’t it? And it's undeniable.

July is hot and humid and, at least, for Severus Snape, plagued with a disorienting sense of upcoming upheaval. His life is about to change. He can feel it in his bones. Yet he's unwilling to cut Potter's waiting sentence short. Severus is nothing if not stubborn. He might have fallen for Harry Potter's understanding smiles and temptingly protective arms, but he's not going to him until he's satisfied himself the Gryffindor has had every available chance of running for the hills and failed to take any of them.

Severus is afraid. So terrified indeed of risking his fragile heart on the misguided whims of an impulsive Gryffindor that he's making himself sick with the panic of trying to second-guess himself. Potter has waited for him. He's waited for six long years without having a single clue that Severus had decided to make his sentence finite.

Potter never even knew that Severus's mental deadline existed. Severus can, in theory, ignore the significance of the savior's upcoming birthday and keep their interactions as they are. Does he honestly believe that Potter would tire of him and go in search of greener pastures? Severus had wanted nothing more for years, yet Potter kept resisting his every effort to turn him away. No. Severus no longer doubts that Potter will indeed wait for him all his life, should Severus's courage falter at the last second.

Severus is positively sick of shortchanging himself, though. Potter wants him something fierce; that much is glaringly obvious. The savior's feelings go so far beyond infatuation that Severus can't help but feel humbled by their depths. What man doesn't wish to be worshiped by the attractive, overprotective young hero who's waited for him over half a decade? Severus has never before been loved so ferociously. Or so selflessly. He feels like a fairy-tale princess for the first time in his life: worthy. Beautiful. And oh-so-precious. It's a heady feeling indeed. Does he deserve Potter's love? He's still pretty convinced he doesn't, but since Potter keeps telling him that is not his call to make, Severus will take him at his word and put the responsibility of thinking about all that at the Gryffindor's feet.

In the end, the usual invitation to Potter's birthday party arrives promptly a week before the grand event. Potter invites him every year, and Severus invariably fails to attend the famously private affair. When he finally receives it, Severus sits by the lake for a very long time, elegant invitation dangling from his potion-tainted fingertips. This was the final test in Potter's arduous journey into Severus's good graces, wasn't it? And here it is. The most coveted invitation of the month, his for Severus to waste like he always does, at least that’s what he assumes Potter is thinking. Potter sent it regardless, though. This is proof that Potter is still Severus's to take. He's not walked away yet. Will probably never do so, just as he says. Severus has grown to want him just as fiercely as Potter desires him. Will that intensity frighten the savior away? Severus doesn't think so. In any case, he can't keep finding things to worry about before making the decision to put his heart where it belongs: safe and sound in Harry Potter's hands.

Four days before Potter's birthday, Severus brews the facial cleanser and clarifying shampoo he hasn't used in years. He digs the fitted dress robes he only wears to international potion conferences out of his wardrobe and sets them out to air. Then spends the next few days crafting his resignation letter and practicing in the mirror the exact words he will use to let Minerva down and free himself from Hogwarts. Severus is no longer willing to settle for contentment. Just like loneliness no longer suits him, the life of a professor fits him ill. Severus is a researcher at heart. It's time he dares to let himself become who he is meant to be.

On July the thirty-first, Severus wakes with a rare smile on his lips. Today feels like the very first day of the rest of his life, and he's, for once, not entirely terrified by that knowledge. He spends the morning applying his facial cleanser and washing his hair with the kind of care he hasn't shown it in years. He also applies the patented cream he'd developed ages ago to eliminate the stains on his fingertips and shaves his face the muggle way; magical charms are never quite as effective.

After lunch, Severus sits quietly in his chambers and stares at the plaque Potter sent him for veritable ages. It's a beautiful thing. To have another human being willing to feel so very proud of you. Severus craves that type of emotional safety and is ready to do everything he can to ensure he gets to keep it. He wants to try his hand at giving back a similar treasure in return. Potter doesn't know it yet, but his life is about to change too.

At half past seven in the evening, Severus decides he's waited long enough. He dresses himself with the utmost care and studies his reflection in the mirror to ensure he starts his terrifying new adventure with Potter precisely as he intends to continue it, with his best foot forward. Severus's reflection shows an awkward man indeed. He's already blushing up a storm, but at least his skin is a flawless porcelain white underneath the tomato-red splotches, and his beautiful dark hair is tidily plaited away from his features.

With a final inhalation, Severus nods at his reflection and heads out of the dungeons, precious invitation tightly clutched in his visibly shaking hand. He's going to be late. He's planned it that way. Still, he's got no intention of showing up late enough that Potter has had enough time to dull his wits with alcohol. Severus's lack of timeliness revolves around his need to ensure that whoever feels compelled to congratulate Potter on this special day has had enough time to do so before his arrival. He knows Potter well enough to predict the man's reluctance to part from Severus's side when he finally sees him.

Severus reaches the Apparation spot just outside the doors of Hogwarts and looks briefly up at the skies. This is it. His last moment of loneliness. He closes his eyes on that hopeful thought and Apparates himself away. Shaking away his natural misgivings when they try to get their nasty little claws into his wildly pounding heart, Severus walks resolutely forward. He's earned his bloody elusive happy ending after being so fucking honorable indeed with the world's precious hero. Potter has waited for him all these years, that's true, but Severus has waited endlessly for him in return.

Severus doesn't even need to knock on the door to Potter's cottage. It opens invitingly for him as soon as he sets foot on the front stoop. He must be keyed into the wards, then. A short corridor opens before him as he hovers uncertainly in the doorway. He can hear laughter coming from the room just down the aisle, but his rigidly set manners prevent him from setting foot inside another man's refuge without so much as a by your leave. Severus is about to knock on the open door, hoping to draw some attention, when a loud chime to his right startles him into pulling out his wand and pointing it warily in that general direction. Someone rushes out into the corridor and runs towards the doorway before Severus has enough time to lower his wand. When he finally does so, Severus finds himself staring directly into the wide-eyed gaze of a thoroughly giddy Harry Potter.

"Snape— Y-you- You are here."

"What on earth was that infernal chime?" Severus demands, thoroughly flustered, "It almost gave me a heart attack, Potter!"

Potter blushes sheepishly and points vaguely to the strange painting that hangs opposite the door, "It's your map. I mean, my map. The one that lets me know when you leave Hogwarts. It chimed, just now. B-because you're here."

"I see," Severus says, staring at the thing with avid curiosity, "It's positively hideous, Potter."

Potter laughs and shuffles closer, still staring at him with wide-eyed wonder, "I didn't think you'd come. I hoped for it, of course. But I hope for it every year, and it never makes a difference. Never mind that now, though. You look wonderful, Snape."

"Thank you," Severus says primly, his usual self-consciousness raring its ugly head to make him feel tongue-tied and out of his depth. He blinks desperately at Potter. Severus doesn't do well when he's so cripplingly nervous. Potter needs to step onto the breach, or they'll remain standing here like bloody idiots, staring at each other across the cottage's threshold until the end of time.

"Do you plan to stand there like a git, or will you come inside so I can bolt the bloody door behind you and make sure you never leave?" Potter asks cheekily, and Severus feels himself relaxing into exasperated amusement.

"You couldn't hold me here against my will, you idiot. I know hexes within hexes. I'm a Dark Arts connoisseur."

"And I'm a most charming hero," Potter retorts instantly, "Rumor has it I'm so lovely there’s no Dark Arts connoisseur who can resist me."

Severus snorts, "Careful there, Potter. You might live to regret trying to charm the likes of me."

Potter's face lights up with hope, "Is that the yes you owe me, Snape? Have you finally come back to your senses?"

"Have I? It's entirely possible I've just lost them altogether."

"Not if you're here to tell me you're going to let me woo the socks out of you."

Severus's left eyebrow twitches upward playfully. The most pleasantly lighthearted feeling is settling like a soft caress in the pit of his stomach as he claims, "I'm fairly attached to my socks. They're argyle wool, you know?"

Potter comes closer still and places a slightly trembling hand on Severus's robe-clad arm, "Is that a challenge, I hear?" He questions ever so softly, and Severus's knees turn to jelly when it dawns on him that Potter is trying his hardest not to spook him away.

"It is," Severus confirms with uncharacteristic boldness, and Potter laughs with delight, exuberant in his triumph.

"I'm going to woo the hell out of you now," Potter vows before throwing himself into Severus's arms without the slightest hesitation. Severus catches the ridiculous idiot and cradles him protectively against his pounding chest.

He should probably tell Potter not to bother with the wooing. He's head over heels already. There's virtually not a thing on Earth that could drive him away at this point. On the other hand—

Severus has never been wooed before. Not in person, at least. And not in the way he suspects Potter intends to pamper him this time around. There's no need for the man to send pink camellias to his office once a year when Severus is willing to come far closer than ever before. Severus smiles. He can't wait to see what an unrestrained wooing by Harry Potter looks like.

"Do your worst, brat," He invites softly, only for Potter to look him square in the eye and shake his head from left to right.

“I’m afraid that’s not happening, gorgeous. You’ve gotten nothing but shitty deals all your life. That streak of bad luck ends today. You’ll get only the very best from this day forward.”

“The very best, hmm?” Severus can’t help but tease him, “And I thought you were humble, Potter.”

The End.

#Harry Potter #harry x severus #severus snape #snarry #fanfic #oneshot #comple #requited/unrequited #mutual pining #getting together #birthday fic #pekeleke

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