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chimcess · 9 days

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Waterlog || pjm (6)

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, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 9.4K+ 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: ANGST, crying, mental health issues, talking about mental health, I'm so soft for them it's actually wild, angst, trauma, panic attacks, kissing, ableism, mention of past alcohol abuse, talk of previous sexual encounters, talks of bullying, probably poor swimming terminology, I also have no idea how swim events work so might be wrong about that too, talks of possible inappropriate coach-athlete relationship, lots of insecurities, survivor's guilt, lots of guilt and shame actually, reader needs to be kinder to herself, we all deserve a Jimin, he's still best boyfriend, SMUT, smut warnings under the cut...

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Smut Warnings: virgin!Jimin, both of them are inexperienced, bad past sexual experiences, vaginal fingering, praise, public sexual contact, denied orgasm (unintentional), very vanilla and tame all things considered

Jimin stood a few feet away, his hands tangled in his hair as he smeared a thick layer of gelatin through the strands. The sight of him working so meticulously brought a smile to my face. It was a familiar scene for synchronized swimmers, their hair slicked down with the sticky goo to ward off chlorine’s wrath. But I knew a few racers who swore by it too. Jimin had never bothered before I pointed out how his hair was looking increasingly parched from our relentless days in the pool. I had shown him how to do it a few weeks ago, and now it was a daily ritual for him.

“How are you feeling?” I asked, fighting the urge to reach out and trace my fingers over the smooth expanse of his back. The phases of the moon inked down his spine were an irresistible temptation; I longed to press my lips against the artwork.

The event had been a last-minute switcheroo—originally slated for solo swimmers covering 250 yards (10 laps in this community pool), but changed when the organizers realized the length of the meet would be an endurance test in itself. Now, competitors were grouped into teams of five, each swimmer tackling two laps. Jimin was content with his team but jittery about being assigned breaststroke, his weakest stroke. Yet, I had no doubts. After months of grueling practice, his team wasn’t about to falter.

“It is what it is,” he muttered, rinsing the gelatin from his hands. “I’m more bummed about having to redirect our donations, but at least it’s still going to cancer research. Can’t complain too much.”

“Just have fun,” I offered. “Trey got to pick the charity because he pulled in the most personal donations from your team. Just do your thing and it’ll be great.”

I fiddled with the collar of my polo shirt, still struggling to accept the coach’s uniform of polo and jeans. It seemed every other coach in the pool wore it, but I felt more like a middle-aged man at a barbecue than a swim coach. The Sketchers I wore didn’t help. Jimin had picked the dark blue color for me, which was comfy enough, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I looked ridiculous.

“You look great,” Jimin said, catching my eye in the mirror.

I snorted, rolling my eyes. He’d been saying that all day, but I struggled to take him seriously. My reflection told a different story—frumpy and awkward. At least the bit of makeup I’d applied managed to make me look somewhat alive.

“I’m serious,” he insisted, adjusting his swim cap. “You look nice in that color. I even like the eyeliner thing you did. You look pretty. You always look pretty.”

I smiled, wanting desperately to kiss him but feeling too on edge. We’d sworn to keep our relationship under wraps. This year was bound to be chaotic, and the last thing we needed was reporters sniffing around if the word got out. We were confident we could manage it, but as I let my eyes roam over his mostly naked body, and with the thrill of his compliment still fresh, I wasn’t so sure.

How was I supposed to keep my hands to myself when he looked like that? His presence was almost a tangible force, and the temptation was just too great.

“Thanks,” I said, trying to mask the tension in my voice. “Are you almost ready to join the others? William seemed really excited to work with you.”

He shook his head, a pout forming on his lips, and the sight of it made my heart race.

“Socializing is important,” I teased, reaching out to touch his arm. “What would people think if you spent all your time locked up in your changing room with your coach?”

A mischievous grin spread across his face before he leaned in and stole a quick kiss. I gave him a warning look, though the smile I couldn't suppress gave away my true feelings.

“I think they’d take one look at you and understand.”

I giggled, “Such a flirt.”

Jimin wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me close. The heat of his bare skin against mine sent shivers down my spine. It had never really occurred to me that he might be doing this on purpose. Hoseok’s words still echoed in my mind. Right now, Jimin seemed at ease with physical intimacy, but I knew better. If I tried to take things further, he would retreat and change the subject.

This was something we’d have to address when we got home. For now, I wanted to see how far we could push things. If he wanted to stop, we would. But I didn’t mind being the guinea pig for this exploration.

I hopped onto the bathroom sink, wrapping my legs around one of his. We had taken over the family restroom at the event center, Jimin having convinced the others he needed solitude to get “in the zone” before his swim. I trailed behind him dutifully, my sunglasses barely hiding my excitement.

Jimin’s hands traced down my sides as I wrapped my arms around his neck. He fit against me like a perfect puzzle piece. When his fingers slid under my shirt to grip my waist, I couldn’t help but grind my hips against his thigh. The jeans dulled the sensation, but I sighed in pleasure. Jimin froze.

“Sorry,” I murmured, nuzzling into his neck, mortified. “Got carried away.”

“It’s okay,” he replied, his voice deep and rugged, stirring something primal within me. I bit back the more selfish, needy side of me and just held him. If he couldn’t see my face, maybe he wouldn’t know how desperate I was. “Do you want to do it again?”

I leaned back to look at him. His shyness was evident, but he wasn’t scared. I needed to be sure before getting excited.

“Do you want me to?”

He nodded, “Yes.”

“Are you sure? We can talk about it later if you want.”

Jimin shook his head, his grip on my waist tightening. The sensation was almost too much to bear. I suppressed the intense arousal for his sake. I wasn’t going to get off on his thigh, especially with these jeans on, but I was willing to go along if it meant something to him.

“I want to make you feel good,” he said softly, as though confessing a secret. “I just don’t know if I’ll be good at it.”

“Baby,” I cooed, gently caressing his face. He avoided eye contact. “Hey, look at me.”

He did.

“Don’t worry about that stuff,” I whispered, kissing the tip of his nose. “Whatever we do together is going to feel good because we’re together.”

He shook his head, resting his forehead against mine. He seemed anxious, almost sad. I wished he’d open up more; it might ease his burden.

“I’m such a fucking idiot,” he groaned. “I want you so bad but I get nervous.”

I nodded. “That’s okay. You make me nervous too.”

We stood there, both caught in our tangled emotions. We had arrived early so Jimin could scout and time his warm-up routine before the event. I felt conflicted—my body was slick with desire, and despite knowing he was upset, I still wanted him to touch me. The fact that I was even keeping track of time for a quickie was almost criminal.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Chim,” I breathed, kissing his cheek. “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“Is it because you don’t want to or because you’re worried about me?”

I didn’t have a good answer. I didn’t want to make him feel guilty, but I was so afraid of hurting him that I struggled to articulate what I wanted. My fear of rejection was overshadowed by concern for him.

“Can I touch you?” he asked.

I nodded, “Of course you can. I’m just worried about you right now. You seem upset.”

His hands slowly traveled up my shirt. I leaned back slightly, granting him better access. His hands ventured higher, and he admitted, “I’m not very experienced. It makes me feel insecure.”

His hands stopped just below my bra. “I know you’re older and have been with more people.”

I nodded, understanding his hesitation. I didn’t need the whole story to grasp what he was trying to tell me.

“I’ve only been with one person,” I confessed. “You don’t have a reason to be insecure. It’s just me. Just us.”

He kissed me, and my fingernails dug into his shoulders. He pulled away, and I nearly cried out in frustration. He was driving me insane.

“It was one for me too,” he said, his hands tracing down my back. “It couldn’t… perform.”

The pieces fell into place. He was a virgin. It all made sense now.

“Did you ever…?” I asked, kissing up his neck.

“No. She told a bunch of her friends, and I got picked on for a while. I never tried again. Swimming took up so much of my time that it never came up.”

My heart broke for him. I wanted to know who had hurt my beautiful boy. I took a moment to calm myself, planting gentle kisses on his skin to soothe him.

“Fuck her,” I said softly.

He chuckled, his hands moving back to my stomach, then lower. I bit his ear playfully, and he moaned, slipping his hand into my pants. I could barely contain my pleasure.

“We’re not having sex here,” I said, trying to ease the pressure. “I won’t touch you unless you want me to.”

He nodded, his gaze focused on my lap. He was still touching me over my panties, and the sensation was almost unbearable. I was almost ashamed of how wet I was, but after months of frustration, it felt almost justified.

“What time is it?” he asked.

I lifted my wrist. “We have twenty minutes before warm-ups.”

He nodded, slipping a finger into my panties. I jolted at the cold touch. He leaned in and kissed my cheek.

“Do you want to stop?”

I shook my head, “Not if you don’t want to.”

He looked into my eyes as his finger gently traced up and down my folds. I sighed in relief, letting my eyes slip shut, focusing on the pleasure he was giving me.

His finger pressed against my entrance, and when he felt no resistance, he pushed it in all the way. I moaned, opening my legs wider. His movements were tentative at first, but soon became more confident, his strokes deep and deliberate. My body was on fire with need.

“Right there,” I choked out, leaning back into the mirror.

His fingers hit the same spot again, and I shuddered, trying to muffle my cries. Jimin’s touches were more assured now, making my toes curl.

“Yeah?” he cooed, adding another finger. My eyes rolled back in ecstasy. “You’re so perfect.”

I could feel myself shaking, my hands gripping his arm for support. I was so close, and my muffled moans were becoming harder to control.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

My eyes flew open. I looked at Jimin, then the door, and back to him. His pupils were almost entirely dilated, and he was flushed a pretty pink. His fingers were still deep inside me.

“Tara?” a voice called out. “Are you in there?”

“Wrong bathroom,” Jimin called out, fingers still moving. I watched him, biting my lip to keep quiet. “Sorry.”

“Oh! My bad.”

The man’s footsteps faded away.

“Time?” he asked.

I checked my watch and sighed. Jimin slowly withdrew his fingers, and I almost choked on my own breath when he put them in his mouth.

“Later,” he promised.

It was a promise that weighed heavily. I fought between being his girlfriend and his coach. The girlfriend wanted to forget everything else and keep him here. The coach knew better and that I would regret keeping him from something so important to him.

“Let’s go kick some ass,” I said, kissing him one last time before sliding off the counter. “You leave first. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

He scoffed and took my hand. “I’m not leaving you after what we just did.”

“Such a gentleman,” I giggled, leaning into his side. “Make sure no one’s around, and we’ll leave together.”

We were the first ones at the pool, a handful of reporters already lurking around the bleachers, eager to catch the first glimpse of the swimmers. Jimin and I had let go of each other before entering the pool room, our roles as coach and trainee now firmly back in place. My steps slowed as I turned to him.

“I’ll hang back,” I said, my weariness of the press still gripping me. No one seemed to recognize me yet, and Jimin was an effective buffer. “Go and play nice.”

He flashed me a grin. “I’m an American sweetheart, angel. The people love me.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, sweetheart, you better start talking. We’ve got warm-ups to do. Unless you want to cramp up and lose. If that’s your plan, be my guest.”

As Jimin charmed the cameras, I mentally reviewed our plan for the day. Regardless of the outcome, we were hitting the town for food and drinks. It was a perfect way to build rapport and expand our network. The more connections we made, the more likely someone would pass our name to a sponsor.

It struck me as odd that Jimin wasn’t a sponsor or ambassador for any major brands despite his popularity. When I asked him about it, he mentioned Hamilton’s belief that endorsements would be a distraction. His mother thought Hamilton was just jealous of Jimin’s success. I had to side with Nayeon on this one.

I was already working on securing a deal with Nike or Adidas. Their sportswear was among the most recognized worldwide, and getting Jimin’s face out there would set him up nicely for life after the Olympics. He had at least one, maybe two, more Olympics before retirement, and sponsors could provide the financial cushion he needed while he focused on swimming.

I’d reached out to an old contact at Speedo, who was eager to get the endorsement process rolling. Miguel, the rep I’d always dealt with, was thrilled about the newest hot swimmer in town. A shipment of gear was on its way, and I was awaiting confirmation from advertising about a potential campaign. I hadn’t anticipated this, but Speedo seemed eager to be one of Jimin’s first endorsements. I planned to discuss it with him once the charity event was over.

“Ready?”

I jumped, Jimin’s laugh ringing in my ears.

“Yeah, yeah,” I teased. “Laugh it up. Just take off your clothes and get in the water.”

Jimin stuck his tongue out at me, peeling off his jacket and tossing it on his gear bag. His flip-flops followed, and before long, he was in the water. I stood at the edge, watching him as he began his laps. This was more about stretching than training, and I reminded him to take it slow.

The pool began to fill with other swimmers practicing their strokes. Jimin and the others tagged each other in and out, getting used to the relay transitions. I watched with pride. His breaststroke was impressive. His progress was a testament to his hard work, and I felt honored to be part of his journey. Relationship aside, he was dedicated, and it was a pleasure to work with him.

“He looks good,” Coach Tyler Moore said, his gaze fixed on Jimin. “Better than when he was with that other guy. Kid’s a beast.”

“Good for a short guy,” Nicole, another coach, joked.

Jimin’s height was always a topic of discussion. His shorter stature seemed to be a disadvantage, especially against the taller Olympic swimmers. Most of the men in the category were at least six feet tall, and the women were often taller than Park, myself included.

“He’s a great swimmer,” I replied. “He’s fast and strong. Could probably bench-press a bear if he tried.”

Tyler chuckled. “Do you think he’ll place at the Olympics?”

I nodded. “Of course I do. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“Girl’s a recluse,” a familiar dry voice drawled beside me.

I chuckled. Summer Lewis, an old friend from high school, had unexpectedly shown up. It was a welcome surprise that eased some of my nerves.

“Thought hell would freeze over before she was back in public,” Summer said. “Do you even leave the house?”

“Yes,” I said, trying to keep the smile on my face. “Obviously. I’m here right now.”

“How are you feeling?” she asked, glancing at me as the others dispersed to speak with reporters. “Leg holding up?”

“Yeah. I still get some pain, especially in the cold, but I’m managing. Alive, so I can’t complain too much.”

The same couldn’t be said for Namjoon. I pushed that thought aside. There was no room for survivor’s guilt today. I was happy. Everything was coming together. He would be happy for me. But he’s dead.

I took a deep breath, my anxiety escalating. The reporters were closing in, and the thought of interacting with them made me physically ill. My stomach churned, and I fought to keep the panic at bay. It was irrational, but I was sweating like a pig.

“Do you miss it?” Summer asked, gesturing toward the pool.

“All the time,” I admitted, a bead of sweat trickling down my neck. “Hey, I’m going to use the bathroom real quick. Let Park know if he starts looking for me.”

Summer nodded. “We’ll be starting in ten.”

“I’ll be back before then.”

Jimin looked my way as I glanced back at him. He gave me a thumbs-up, and I nodded in return, signaling that I’d be back shortly. He needed to stay focused on the water and his team.

I squeezed my hand into a fist, tucking my thumb underneath my index finger and popping it through the other side. I waved my wrist, signaling that I needed to use the restroom. He nodded, and I saw him relax a bit. Good. I just needed a few minutes to collect myself.

I splashed water on my face, my reflection in the bathroom mirror staring back at me. Today was overwhelming. My anxiety was through the roof, and the makeup on my face felt like a mask. It looked fine, as it always did, but it only made me feel more insecure. I looked like I was trying too hard, and everyone knew it. God, I was such an idiot.

And then there was Jimin.

I let a single tear slip. It was inappropriate and disrespectful. He was so nervous and scared, and I’d brushed off his vulnerability because of what? I hadn’t had any in a while? I was no better than the men I despised.

I gave myself two minutes to cry, letting the guilt and shame flow out. Once my watch beeped, I dabbed my face with tissues and fixed my hair. Whatever was going on with me would have to wait. Jimin was counting on me.

As I opened the bathroom door, I collided with a solid chest. I stumbled back, barely catching myself on the wall. The person I bumped into remained still.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, adjusting my clothes. “Are you okay?”

“Perfectly fine.”

The voice was unmistakable.

Standing in front of me was Matthew Hamilton, his blonde hair starting to silver and slicked back with too much hairspray. His pale blue eyes, devoid of warmth, still unsettled me. He was built like an ox and as healthy as ever, but age was catching up.

“Good to see you, Otter,” he said, his tone dripping with boredom. “Seems like you got stuck with my leftovers.”

I was too furious to speak. How dare he speak about Jimin like that? I had to hold myself together before I lost control. I was already at my breaking point, and his condescending attitude was the last straw.

“Too bad they couldn’t find a swimmer up to your caliber,” he continued, seemingly oblivious to the offense. “Even with a limp, you deserve better than Park. Kid’s got no spirit, and don’t even get me started on the drinking.”

I scoffed. “Jimin doesn’t drink.”

“Not anymore, maybe,” Hamilton said casually, as if trying to make small talk. “He used to drink like a fish until his brother died. Working with him was a nightmare. Glad you’re not dealing with that shit with your bum leg.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my leg,” I snapped, at least making him look slightly chastised. “And for the record, that ‘nightmare’ you keep talking about beat your personal best in his last competition. So if you’ll excuse me, I have better things to do than listen to a has-been who doesn’t know when to shut up.”

I shoved past him, barely moving him an inch. My steps were heavy as I stalked down the hallway, my anger searing through me. I knew my face betrayed my emotions, and the cameras would catch every detail. It was almost enough to make me turn back and hide in the bathroom.

But I had someone counting on me, and he was far more important than protecting my pride.

Jimin was standing with the group when I returned, three minutes to spare. He clocked something was off right away, and so did Summer.

“What crawled up your ass?” she asked.

“Some dumb bitch,” I huffed, taking a few deep breaths to calm myself. “I bumped into an asshole on my way out of the bathroom.”

“Are you okay?” Nicole asked, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Do we need to tell security?”

I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. I think I gave him enough of an earful to keep him the hell away from me.”

I didn’t want to reveal who had bothered me. It would only cause unnecessary drama and upset Jimin. We had an event to focus on.

“Let's go over the plan one more time.”

Taking over as head coach, I directed the team. The others were happy to hand over the reins, and the boys took direction well. We reviewed the order of events, their best times, and their confidence levels. After a pep talk and some words of encouragement, it was time for the boys to swim.

Jimin was third in our group of four, and I watched him intensely. How well he performed today would set the tone for the rest of the season. He was signed up to compete in the breaststroke event at the Olympics, along with other solo swimming events. I knew just how skeptical people were about his chances. Today’s performance could reignite interest in him, which was crucial for securing sponsors.

Jimin took his place on the block, laser-focused and ready to dive in as soon as Trey tagged him. Trey was the fastest in the pool today, giving Jimin a head start before the others were halfway back across.

I held my breath. Jimin was a bullet in the water. Not as perfect as I wanted, but much improved. He reached the touchpad and pushed himself back across the pool. Team 3 was catching up, but Jimin would finish first. I watched as he gave one final push and tagged in D’Angelo.

Take that, you old bastard, I sneered internally. My anger surprised me; Hamilton deserved my contempt. No one gets to talk about Jimin like that. Ever.

D’Angelo butterflied us to victory. Our team hugged each other as the announcer declared our win to the cheering crowd. The bleachers were filled, the audience screaming their praise at the four men. They basked in the glory. All I could do was stare at my pretty boy’s smile in awe.

I really did love him.

Even if I didn’t tell him right now, I knew in my heart that I did. I went up against Matthew fucking Hamilton for him, came to this charity function, and kept it together. Now, I was going to talk to some news reporters, all because I loved him.

I love him, I love him, I love him…

“You’re a damn good coach, Y/N.”

I turned to smile at Summer. She was beautiful, her brown eyes warm and kind. She reminded me of Giselle, but her features were sharper, her nose broader. I remembered us cutting up after placing in nationals right after we turned 21. I hadn’t thought about her in so long I forgot what it was like to miss her.

“So are you. D’Angelo is one of the best I’ve seen for his age group. How old is he?”

“Sixteen. Turning seventeen next month. Hope he’ll be Olympics-ready next time, but I don’t know if he’ll stick with it.”

“He will. You can see it in his eyes.”

D’Angelo was talking to Jimin, the high schooler bubbly and starry-eyed. He had a slight stutter and kept apologizing about his tics. D’Angelo had Tourette’s and clicked his tongue and winked a lot. He attached himself to Jimin once they got comfortable, and my boyfriend told me he had followed the younger swimmer on social media.

“Where does he go to school?”

“Pioneer High,” she replied. “His family moved to Ann Arbor a few weeks ago. He was going to school out here in Allendale.”

What a small world.

“Does he need a new coach?” I asked. “I’m out in Saline. It’s only twenty minutes away from Ann Arbor.”

Summer seemed excited about the prospect of us working together. She said this was their last meet as coach and student, and she was sad to see him go since he was the only person serious about swimming professionally on their team. I gave her my contact information and asked her to pass it on to D’Angelo’s parents. I saw potential in him and wanted to keep that fire in his eyes.

“He’s going to be so excited.”

“Well, he’ll have to wait until after the Olympics,” I reminded her. “I’m up to my neck in work right now.”

“What about weekends?” she countered.

“Maybe Saturday,” I sighed. “We’ll see. I’m not sure if I want to commit to it right now. I’ll be in hell until July. Between Nationals and all the other competitions Hamilton signed him up for, we’re not getting any breaks.”

Summer hummed, eyeing the reporters. They had gone to speak with the boys, all of whom seemed eager to share their happiness about the win. St. Jude’s would be getting a hundred thousand dollars from today’s event. Reaching into my pocket, I asked Summer if she had recorded the race.

“Nicole did,” she told me. “She sent it to the group chat already.”

“Excellent,” I grinned. “Jimin’s mom wanted to see him swim. She was so disappointed she couldn’t come.”

I felt Summer watching me as I unlocked my phone. Watching the video, I was pleased at how well-shot it was. You could see all of our boys on full display. I thanked Nicole for the video and saved it. Pulling up Neyeon’s number, I sent the video and promised her to have Jimin call her as soon as he was available.

“You two together?”

I looked at Summer, keeping my face neutral.

“Sorry if I’m overstepping,” she laughed. “It’s just…you two seem very close.”

I raised an eyebrow. Lying wasn’t something I did often, and this felt wrong but necessary. I didn’t want anyone to know about us. It took one person saying the wrong thing, and we’d be up shit’s creek come July. Our relationship was frowned upon by SafeSport and would be considered imbalanced.

“We’re not.”

Summer did not look convinced.

“I’m not going to tell anyone, Y/N. You’re just a trainer while he’s still in Michigan. A stand-in until Bunch finds him a new coach. We all know that, and you’re not breaking the code of conduct.”

“I’m not a temp,” I sighed. “We haven’t disclosed anything yet. I wanted to wait until after the Olympics, but I’m afraid I’ll have to step down before that happens.”

Summer placed a hand on my shoulder. “He’ll be in Colorado in April, right? Tell Bunch your job as coach is over and you won’t have anything to worry about.”

“You don’t get it,” I shook my head. “Ozzie wants me to be his permanent coach. That’s been the expectation this entire time, and I know Jimin would want the same.”

“Well, he can’t have his cake and eat it too,” she said, glancing at the reporters. “Get him to understand the position you’d be in. I’m sure if you told him your romantic relationship would make you look bad, then he’d be more willing to get help elsewhere.”

“He wants to finish the season with me by his side. It was the only compromise he was willing to listen to.”

“Put your foot down. Find other options. Christmas is around the corner. Spring won’t be too long after that. You should step down before Oswald finds out. Don’t screw yourself over, babe. You’ve worked too hard for this to let some kid take it away from you.”

I snorted, “He’s not doing anything wrong.”

“No,” she argued. “He’s being selfish. You both are.”

I knew she was right. I should have waited until I was no longer attached to him in this way before starting anything. I knew it from the beginning, and I still allowed myself to be in this position. Summer had a point. Finding him a permanent coach before we went to Colorado in April was a good idea. If I was just a trainer, then nothing would be inappropriate, and I could still help him out in the gym.

“Are you looking for anything?” I joked.

Summer laughed. “Girl, I’d love to work with that boy, but I don’t think we’d line up this year. I have kids now. I can email you a few recommendations.”

“Thanks, Summer. I don’t know how big of a deal it’s going to be, but I’ll talk to Bunch about it.”

“Anytime, Otter. I’m just speaking from my experiences. He might tell you something different. Don’t spiral over it. I know you.”

I always hated that stupid nickname, but I had to put on a smile. Cameras were coming our way, and I needed to be sure I was on my best behavior. For Jimin’s sake.

The interview went better than I expected. I didn’t have to talk about myself a single time, and it didn’t look like any of the reporters here knew who I was. It wasn’t pleasant, but I couldn’t complain. We spoke for five minutes before they moved on to the others. Taking that as my cue, I went to collect my athlete.

We had a lot to talk about tonight.

Jimin smiled when I approached. The other three boys greeted me just as eagerly, and I was more than happy to hand out my praises. D’Angelo and Trey went to mingle with the losing teams. Paul went to find Nicole, leaving Jimin and me alone.

“You look upset,” he said, handing his duffle bag over when I held out my hand. “Something the matter?”

“No,” I shook my head and smiled. “Nothing’s wrong. I just need to talk to you later.”

“Is it bad?”

“Not bad,” I reassured him. “Something private. I don’t want to do it here.”

“Okay, Coach.”

That night, as I lay in bed, I thumbed through the email Summer had sent me earlier. Jimin had been invited out with the other boys, and I had pushed him to go. I told him I had paperwork and reports to handle, that he should enjoy his night off. He seemed reluctant but left anyway.

The truth was, I wasn't ready to have this conversation with him. Every time I tried to bring up our relationship, he brushed it off, saying he was fine with waiting until after the Olympics. But I knew better. It would look worse if we waited until he won a medal to disclose everything. I was his coach, temporary or otherwise, and it was my responsibility to make sure boundaries weren't crossed.

I should have never come here. Not when I knew exactly how I felt about him before I did. I was such an idiot.

Finally, ready to face the music, I called Ozzie. It was still early in Colorado, but I knew he'd answer. I never called him unless it was important. Maybe, if I was lucky, Whitney would pick up, and I could chat with her first. She always had a way of helping me get my head straight before unleashing my worries on Ozzie.

"Hello?" No such luck tonight.

"Hey, Oz," I greeted, the worry in my voice making me want to hang up. "How are you?"

"Fine. What's wrong, Otter?"

I sighed, "I fucked up."

"Tell me about it."

So I did. I spent half an hour unloading everything that had happened since I moved to Michigan. How attracted I was to Jimin, but how I pushed those feelings aside to coach him. The months of slowly building longing. Sushi night in Detroit. The date when I came back from visiting home. The kiss on his couch. The brief sexual encounter this morning (though I left out most of those details). I told him everything.

To his credit, Oswald just listened. He only spoke every so often to clarify something or ask about a small detail I left out. As my story came to a close, the pit in my stomach felt like someone was sitting on me. My hands began to tremble.

"I'm so sorry, Ozzie," I cried. "You trusted me, and I fucked it all up."

"You didn't do anything wrong," he finally said, his voice soft and gentle. "Summer was being dramatic earlier. What you two do is your business as long as you disclose it."

"But-"

"Katinka Hosszú and Shane Tusup are married. Coach-athlete relationship. They've disclosed it, and they're fine. You and Park are doing the same thing. I'll let everyone else know, and you'll be fine once the Olympics come around."

"I just don't want to be a bad person, Oz."

"You're not," he soothed. "You did the right thing by telling me. I'm happy for you, Y/N. You've been alone for too long, and that kid needs someone like you in his corner. He's been through a lot."

Wiping my face, his words brought back my encounter with Hamilton. The words he used to describe Jimin were so far from reality, but I still couldn't find it in me to not believe him. Matthew was a jerk, a stupid one at that, but he was sincere in his annoyance.

"I ran into Hamilton today. He said some shitty things about Jimin. Called him a drunk."

Ozzie cursed under his breath.

My heart rate sped up. So it was true? But that didn't make sense. Jimin didn't even drink. I had never heard of a drunk who didn't drink. Unless he was in recovery.

I thought about my dad. He'd been sober for five years now. It was one of the only compliments I could give his new wife. She kept him on the straight and narrow. Imagining Jimin in my childhood basement, too drunk to stand up, crying for a wife that wasn't coming back felt wrong. I could never put him in that position. That wasn't him at all.

"That's something you should talk to him about."

"But it's true?"

"To an extent," Ozzie admitted. "I wouldn't call him a drunk, but the kid can hold his liquor. He was worse a few years ago, but he's been great for a long time. Hamilton is just exaggerating."

But I had a gut feeling he wasn't.

"Thanks for talking to me, Oz."

"Anytime, Y/N," he chuckled. "And delete that damn email. He doesn't need a new coach. You're working magic on him."

"Night."

Tossing my phone on the bed, I slammed my laptop shut and put it on the nightstand. Today had been a disaster. We came here and won, did exactly as well as I had hoped, but it felt hollow. I didn't know who to believe. Summer's concerns were valid from an academic coach's perspective, and I understood her worries. It was strange to me as well. Ozzie was a far more reliable source, but it felt too easy. Things were never that simple for me, and it was difficult to calm down enough to believe what he said.

Curling into a ball, I stared at the front door. He'd be back soon, and I'd have to explain my strange mood. I knew he'd be upset with me for sending him away after saying we needed to talk, but I hoped he'd forgive me once I explained why I needed space to think. So many decisions needed to be made, and I knew I would only hurt him if I tried to do anything before screwing my head back on.

For now, I decided to go by Ozzie's advice. If any issues came up, we'd deal with them together. As a team. Jimin would prefer it that way, and I could take some of the pressure off my shoulders.

A beep. A wiggle. Another beep. The door opened.

"Stupid keycard doesn't work right," Jimin grumbled to himself, slipping out of his shoes. "I knew there was a reason it was so cheap."

I slowly sat up and watched him. His hair was in his eyes, and his skin looked a little pale, but he seemed to be in a good mood. I couldn't smell alcohol either.

I wanted to punch myself in the face.

I wasn't ready for that conversation yet, but I knew avoiding it would only make things worse. If I let my mind wander, it would spin the worst story ever told, and I'd constantly be checking to make sure he wasn't drunk.

Jimin didn't drink, I told myself. Jimin's been doing great.

He went straight to the bathroom, giving me a few minutes to collect myself. I needed to be honest but cautious. If I told him word-for-word what Hamilton had said, it would only make him feel bad. Starting with the good news first might help. Maybe learning that we didn't have to hide our relationship status going forward would ease the sting of his old coach's words.

I would have to approach this delicately. The toilet flushed. The water ran. The bathroom door opened. It was showtime.

"Had fun?" I asked him, knees pressed against my chest.

He smiled at me, "They're all really nice. Wish you were there."

"Next time," I promised. "Want to put the TV on?"

Jimin shrugged, "Sure. Food Network?"

"Chopped might be on."

It was actually Iron Chef, but we both liked that show too, so we kept it on. I tried not to stare at Jimin as he got undressed. He only wore a shirt and boxers to sleep, so it was very distracting. I needed to be focused and ready for anything.

Climbing into bed, he wrapped an arm around my waist and buried his face into my side. I was still sitting up, cradling my legs, but Jimin's whining finally got me to relax. Sliding down, I wrapped my arms around his neck and let him throw the blanket over me.

This was my happy place.

"I missed you," he mumbled, fingers playing with my hair.

"I missed you too," I told him. "Sorry I've been weird."

"What's wrong, angel?"

I felt my eyes welling up. "Good or bad?"

"Good."

I took a deep breath.

"I told Coach Bunch about our relationship. He said we'll be fine, and he's going to put in a disclosure form with the board for us. We'll probably get an email to sign a few documents in a couple of days."

He kissed my forehead, a large, toothy grin overtaking his entire face. I couldn't help but smile back. I knew it would make him happy. Gripping my hair, he yanked my head forward for a kiss. He couldn't stop smiling even as our lips collided. His joy eased some of my anxiety about the conversation that was to come.

"I'm so happy right now," he giggled, kissing me again. "I can finally show you off like the pretty girl you are."

Relenting, I tightened my grip around him. I needed to focus on the good. Jimin wasn't going to get mad at me for being honest, and I had to hope Hamilton being a jerk wouldn't burst our perfectly formed bubble.

"I ran into Coach Hamilton today."

Jimin's smile dropped in sync with my heart.

"He said some things," I averted my gaze. "It upset me. That was my issue when I came back from the bathroom."

"What did he say?"

I shook my head, "It doesn't matter. He doesn't matter."

Jimin cupped my cheek.

"You were upset before you went. Why?"

I sighed, burying my face in his neck. It was easier to talk to him when I didn't feel his eyes on me. It never ended. The anxiety. The shame. The guilt.

"I just felt so bad about the bathroom thing. You told me to drop it, but it's still there. I don't want to make you feel pressured. I want you to feel loved when I touch you. I just want to make you feel good, Jimin."

"You do," he soothed, kissing my head. "You make me feel amazing. There's nothing wrong with the things we do. We're going to be okay."

I couldn't help but cry. I loved him so much. I could never, ever, let him go. He was everything I ever wanted. Perfect.

"And then, here comes this goddamn asshole," I cried, the words spilling out of me like a busted dam. I was past the point of no return, the fury and frustration rolling off me in waves. Any semblance of calm had fled, replaced by a raw, unfiltered torrent of emotion.

"He kept yammering about my 'bum leg,' saying you were no good, calling you a drunk. I don't know what came over me, but I just snapped. I never lose it like that, but I did. And now, I feel like I've ruined everything—your meet, your moment. And to top it all off, I went behind your back and talked to Ozzie—"

"Stop." Jimin's hands were on my face, his grip firm but gentle, forcing me to meet his eyes. "Stop it. Please, don't hide from me. You didn't ruin anything, angel. I promise. I'm so happy we won, and you talking to Bunch is the best gift anyone’s ever given me."

I shook my head, unable to accept his words. The day had spiraled into a nightmare, and I felt responsible for every second of it. I couldn't celebrate with him, couldn't touch him, couldn't even look at him. I was a failure. I was a mistake. This whole thing was a mistake. I was going to ruin his career. His life. His—

"One," he took a deep breath. "Two," then another. "Three," he kissed my forehead. "Come on, angel girl. Breathe with me."

I blinked, following his lead. One deep breath in. One big exhale out. One breath in. One breath out. One, two, three, four; five. Ten, nine, eight, seven; six. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

"There you go," Jimin mumbled. "Just calm down. I'm not mad. I promise you I'm not mad."

I nodded, my breath catching up with me. With my head cleared, the weight of my earlier words hit me like a sledgehammer. So much for being gentle and kind. I wanted to punch myself in the face. God, I was a horrible girlfriend.

"I'm sorry," I murmured. "That was unnecessary. And selfish. And wrong. I promised myself I'd stay calm, and then I just freaked out on you."

Sitting up, I wiped my face roughly, angry at my tears. I was too old to act like this when I was upset. I needed to learn how to stay composed and communicate. No one wants to deal with a crybaby who explodes all the time.

"It's okay to be upset," he replied. "That's a lot to handle alone, and you did so well today. I want you to know you can have these moments with me. It's what I'm here for."

"But you shouldn’t have to."

"I want to," he said, grabbing my face again. I hadn’t realized I had looked away. "I want to because I love you."

Automatically, I laughed. My disbelief was so great I was positive Ashton Kutcher would jump out of the bathroom and tell me I was getting Punk’d. But this wasn’t 2003. It was 2024, and no one had thought about that blemish on MTV’s record in over a decade. This was just me and Jimin in our hotel room, and he was telling me something profound, and all I could do was laugh.

He cracked a smile. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," I shook my head, almost giddy with joy. "Nothing. I don’t know why I can’t stop laughing."

His smile widened. Sitting up, he leaned in and kissed my cheek. I squeaked, giggled, and threw myself at him.

My mood swings had to be exhausting. I knew I had to be as well.

But he loved me. Jimin loved me. Even if I was the most exhausting girlfriend, he loved me.

"I love you," he repeated, his eyes soft and glowing with unmistakable fondness. "I don’t like it when you talk about yourself like that."

"I love you, too," I whispered back like a secret. "I’m sorry."

He shook his head. "Don’t feel bad for telling me these things. You’re not ruining anything for me. I’m just happy you’re giving me the privilege to hold you when you’re down. You’re a suffer-in-silence type."

I snorted. "Woe is me."

Jimin leaned back and took me with him. Laying across his chest, I got comfortable and stared at him. He was the prettiest man I had ever seen. He needed a haircut soon. It was past his ears and too hard for him to manage. I’d let him go early next week so he could fit in a trip to the barber.

"There’s nothing wrong with your leg, by the way."

I snickered. "I told him the same thing. May or may not have called him a has-been, too."

That made Jimin laugh. The sound was like music. I loved it when he was happy. I was worried he was putting his feelings aside to make me feel better, but I had to force myself to let him come to me on his own time. Whatever Jimin wanted was what I wanted, and if he wasn’t ready to tell me about his past yet, I would accept that.

Because I loved him. And he loved me. I smiled. He loves me.

"You have questions, right?"

"About the drunk comment? Sure, but you don’t have to say anything. You can talk to me or not, and I’ll still be here."

He regarded me for a moment before nodding. "Thank you."

I simpered. "You’re welcome."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

Wanting to break the tension, I made a show of stretching my arms above my head. Yawning melodramatically, I curled up against his side. Jimin’s arms wrapped around my waist as if they were always meant to be there. As it turned out, a new episode of Chopped had come on.

Jimin was very pleased with this, and we lapsed into a comfortable silence as we watched the chefs open their baskets. We had gotten lucky enough to only miss the introductions. For their appetizer basket, they got mofongo (something I had never heard of before), English peas, sparkling cider, and catfish filets. I marveled at the ingredients. I would have been utterly clueless.

"What’s mofongo made of?" I asked Jimin.

"Mashed up fried plantains," he replied calmly. "They put garlic paste and chicharron in it. You’d usually eat it with beef broth, but it can change depending on the recipe. It’s a Puerto Rican dish. I only heard about it after swimming with Luis Rivera at Nationals. It’s really good."

"It sounds good. Summer? Her family is Nigerian, and if we were lucky, her mother would bring these massive pots of food to our training sessions when we were in the U.S. Olympic swimming team back in 2012. I dream about her jollof rice. And the soups? Don't even get me started."

I watched as one chef used the mofongo to create a marinade for his catfish and raised an eyebrow. Points off for lack of creativity. Another person had taken the mofongo and turned it into a thick gravy. Both seemed like safe choices, but at least they were using it. The other chef hadn’t even touched it. They were very focused on a pot of boiling potatoes and frying the fish.

"Boiling more potatoes seems pointless," I muttered.

"Let him cook."

I snorted. "Yes, sir."

Jimin was right, of course. A few moments later, the man was mixing the potatoes and mofongo together to make a hybrid of sorts. After that, he assembled his fish pie. He used the cider to make a base gravy for the fish and peas, added in a few other veggies for more flavor, and piled on the potatoes. I did not think I would like the flavor of fish with heaps of mash on them, but it looked delicious as he plated them. Far better than the other two’s strange and avant-garde style.

It just wasn’t something I would consider an appetizer.

"That’s an entire meal," Jimin scoffed. "He’s going home."

"Get out of my head, kid."

He kissed my cheek. "Make me."

"Punk."

"You love me."

"I do."

"Say it again," he giggled.

I rolled my eyes. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he sighed happily. "I’m so happy I can just say that now. You have no idea how hard it’s been to just... not say it."

I thought about the semi-panic attack I had in Hoseok’s car and laughed. He had no idea how much I understood where he was coming from.

"Say it as much as you want, love," I kissed the underside of his chin.

We had both been right. The judges thought the pie was too much to be an appetizer.

The hiss of the shower jolted me awake, the sound slicing through the thick, restless silence of the early morning. I fumbled groggily for my phone. The screen lit up: 3:17 AM. The bed beside me was a cold, empty expanse, and a tight knot of worry coiled in my gut. I slipped out of bed, the chill of the floor biting at my feet, and crept toward the bathroom door.

“Chim?” I called softly, barely above a whisper, as if speaking louder might shatter the fragile night.

“Yeah?” His voice was close, too close to the door for him to be in the shower.

“Can I come in?”

The moment of silence that followed was heavy, like the air before a storm. Then came the soft click of the lock, and the door creaked open just enough for me to see him. As I’d feared, he was still fully clothed, slumped on the toilet with that distant, haunted look I’d hoped never to see again. It had been months since he’d looked this lost.

I slipped inside and closed the door behind me, the small space barely accommodating us. We were so close our knees touched, but I didn’t care. He needed me, and I wasn’t going anywhere.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, my voice barely a breath.

He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze fixed on some dark chasm only he could see. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, broken only by the steady drip of the showerhead. Eventually, he reached over and turned off the water. The steam billowed around us, wrapping us in a dense fog.

"Her name was Jackie," he said finally, his voice a whisper lost in the fog. "She was a friend of Annie’s. We were in college, and Annie practically forced us to go out so she could double date with Tom."

I hummed softly, encouraging him to continue. I didn’t understand why Jackie was surfacing now, but I had a sinking feeling she was the girl he’d mentioned earlier—the one who had made him feel small and worthless. Jackie. What a godawful name.

“She was one of those people who wore a mask around her friends and was someone else entirely when we were alone. I was 18, and she was pretty, so I let it slide. We had things in common, and we laughed a lot.”

He paused, drawing a shaky breath. “Her friends thought I was weird and didn’t want her with me. They’d been tight since middle school and still acted like high school mean girls. I didn’t care much for them either, but Jackie always said she didn’t care what they thought.”

My heart twisted in my chest. I had a gut-wrenching feeling where this was going, and it made me sick. My poor baby. I placed a hand on his knee in a futile attempt to comfort him.

“We’d been seeing each other for a few months, but we hadn’t done more than a few kisses and hugs. I was gearing up for my first professional championship swim meet, and she was buried in schoolwork. Double major or something, I don’t really remember.”

He took another deep breath. “Our clothes were off, and I was so nervous. She seemed okay with it. We just got dressed and watched a movie. We both knew that things weren’t going anywhere.”

“That’s normal, Jimin,” I murmured, trying to fill the void of silence. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He shook his head. “She told her friends, who told their friends, who then told everyone in my frat about what happened. Then she was too much of a coward to face me and acted like nothing had ever happened. I was humiliated, mortified. I just didn’t want to have sex anymore. The drinking started after, but that was more a side effect of being in a fraternity with undiagnosed depression.”

I was at a loss for words, so I stood up. Jimin watched me as I lowered myself onto his lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him tight.

Even if it wasn’t some grotesque horror story, it was still a deep, festering wound. Trauma was trauma, regardless of its shape or size. This morning had uncovered more than either of us was willing to admit.

For Jimin, it was confronting his fears of rejection. For me, it was the struggle to finally move on from guilt and shame. Namjoon's face came to mind, and I had to make my brain stop itself from going there. He would want me to be happy. He would want me to live. I relaxed into him, hoping that we could both find a way to heal.

Jimin sucked in a few deep breaths before his arms enveloped my waist. He hiccuped once, then twice, and finally, he began to cry.

I buried my face in his hair, my own tears mingling with his. It was heart-wrenching to see him in such pain, but I felt deeply honored that he was finally allowing his walls to come down. For all my talk about suffering in silence, Jimin was far more adept at hiding his pain than I was.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “You didn’t deserve that.”

He cried harder and nodded. “I know,” he wailed.

I didn’t want to talk anymore. Holding him in my arms, this beautiful, broken boy, I wished I could keep him locked away in this bathroom forever, safe from the cruelties of the world. I didn’t care if my legs went numb from sitting or if the grip he had on my ribs was starting to hurt. Jimin cried, and I stayed in his lap, a silent promise to be there, come what may.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga @sumzysworld @chimmisbae

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inamindfarfaraway · 11 months

Text

The Morality of Mabel and Dipper Pines

Warning: Dipper Levels of Overanalysis Ahead

I’d like to make it clear at the start that I love both of these characters equally and they’re both good people, just in different ways. But I’ve seen a lot of criticism of Mabel’s flaws and less of Dipper’s, so I’d like to contribute to the discussion of their respective characters by exploring a divide between them I haven’t seen talked about much.

Mabel really wants to be a moral person. She places a lot of intrinsic worth in the concepts of ethics, like kindness and fairness and the wellbeing of others. Being a bad person could be considered her worst fear. It’s definitely up there with her other greatest fears of losing her relationship with Dipper and the inevitability of change, and those fears developed later largely in response to Ford and the baggage he brought with him.

Dipper just doesn’t care about that as much. That isn’t to say he’s a bad person! He's compassionate, selfless, brave and unquestionably heroic by the end of the show. They both are. But it sticks out to me how differently they think about ethics. For example, Dipper literally kills Wax Sherlock Holmes, while Mabel is so averse to hurting someone’s feelings that she can’t bear to break out of a false, one-sided relationship with Gideon until Dipper's life is at stake. You see what I’m getting at here? But I have more evidence! Buckle up, this is gonna get long.

Compare how they treat their rivals, Pacifica and Robbie. These are ordinary humans with no real authority over them who, age and class gaps aside, they're basically on even footing with in confrontations, so this is a good metric for how aggressive they are when upset and how much they hold grudges in mundane situations.

In “Irrational Treasure”, Mabel is deeply hurt by Pacifica’s mockery to the point of giving up her silly identity, and sets out to prove her wrong that she can be competent. But at the end, when presented with the opportunity to destroy the Northwest family’s fake prestigious legacy that they use to justify putting others down, she declares, “I’ve got nothing to prove” and lets it go. She’s secure in herself. Her motivation is satisfied. Why bother putting more pain and strife into the world? It’s Dipper, who has been only been hurt by proximity to Mabel, who insists on exposing the truth specifically to spite Pacifica and takes away that “Man, revenge is underrated. That felt awesome!” Revenge is arguably a form of justice, especially in this sense of revealing an unfair lie, but still, he takes great pleasure in bringing an enemy down for the sake of it, not to fix the damage they did.

In “Fight Fighters”, Dipper’s vindictive streak returns. He manipulates the ridiculously powerful Rumble McSkirmish into brutally beating up Robbie on the fraudulent charge of murder, threatening Robbie’s life. He didn’t realize Rumble would try to kill Robbie, but he was fine with him severely injuring him. Rumble is a fighting game character, a superpowered master martial artist. Robbie is a normal fifteen-year-old. This is not a sportsmanlike matchup. By the end Dipper learns his lesson and takes responsibility, but so does Mabel about hurting people to try to have a perfect life and people still complain about that!

In “The Golf War”, Mabel is again the twin with a bone to pick with Pacifica, but Dipper takes her rivalry more seriously than her and is more willing to be mean about it. He encourages her to cheat when she doesn’t want to, justifying it because Pacifica is “cheating at life”. Understandable, but still underhanded. While Mabel bonds and buries the hatchet with her rival by the end, outright declaring their rivalry to be stupid, Dipper holds onto it, refusing to forgive Pacifica at all. He disapproves of Mabel's offer to give her a ride home afterward, despite the pouring rain and her absent parents. He still wholeheartedly considers her “the worst” and tells her so to her face at the beginning of “Northwest Mansion Mystery”, even though he saw her and Mabel help each other in their fight against the Lilliputtians and Pacifica thank Mabel and accept her apology.

In “The Love God”, Mabel’s compassion is on full display. She makes it apparent that she wants everyone she knows to be happy, to the point of making a chart to show her friends’ feelings with stickers, and goes out of her way to help Robbie just because she doesn’t think any human being should be so lonely and sad. Dipper initially has no sympathy for Robbie’s misery and sees the twins and his old friends leaving him to rot as a good thing.

Dipper is more emotionally invested in hating people and willing to play dirty. Mabel prefers to see the best in people, forgive, deescalate conflict and turn enemies into friends whenever possible, and has more respect for honour and sportsmanship.

Compare the insecurities they highlight in "Society of the Blind Eye". These could have been their last words spoken with their memories of the summer, so they are fully candid and vulnerable.

Mabel confesses, “I only love some of my stuffed animals and the guilt is killing me!” She reprimands herself for not having sincere affection for all the people in her life… who are inanimate objects, hence this being a joke about how immature and overly sentimental she is. But she’s telling the truth! Not being honest about your feelings toward someone who loves you (as toys are assumed to love their kids) is wrong. It’s something a bad, or at least flawed, person would do. We also know that it’s something Mabel can do with real consequences - she loves Dipper unconditionally, but her frequent teasing of him instead of letting this on damages his self-esteem more than she intends and often realizes - and when she does realize as in “Little Dipper”, she’s ashamed of herself. Her guilt is that she’s failing morally, that she hurts the people around her despite her good intentions.

Dipper admits, “Sometimes I use big words and don’t actually know what they mean. I mean, I’m supposed to be the smart guy! If I’m not the smart guy, then who am I?” He primarily thinks of his worth in terms of competence. Dipper is generally not that confident, at this point in time. He has an intense drive to prove his worth. He is acutely aware of his physical and social shortcomings. But the one thing he knows that he does well is analytical, deductive and strategic thinking, and so to always have value he’s built his entire identity around being particularly intelligent. He’s the planner, the mastermind, the guy with the specialized knowledge and important big words who people have no choice but to respect and listen to, because a lifetime of loneliness besides Mabel has taught him that given a choice, they probably won’t. Except just like Mabel’s all-loving attitude, there’s an element of performance. He doesn’t know everything; he’s inherently irrational to a degree like everyone else. So he tries to seem smarter than he is. His guilt is that he’s failing intellectually and practically, that he isn’t contributing enough to be worth something.

This is where Dipper diverges. He wants to be ethically good less than he wants to be good AT things, and respected for it. But they both beat themselves up when they don’t live up to their self-assigned archetypes of All-Loving Hero and The Smart Guy, when they aren’t good enough by their own unreasonably high standards.

"The Last Mabelcorn" deconstructs Mabel’s fixation on her moral perfection. Celestabellabethabelle, who I will henceforth call C-Beth for short, manipulates it to keep her out of the unicorns’ way. She makes manifest Mabel’s fear that she isn’t good enough no matter what she does. We see Mabel push herself further and further to try to prove herself, much like Dipper in episodes like “Dipper vs Manliness”, and emotionally unravel until she’s miserable, self-loathing and openly listing her vices in a way never seen before. But this isn’t productive! Wallowing in shame doesn’t motivate her to be better! She needs to learn that although she isn’t perfect, the virtues she has are good enough to work with to both get out and kick C-Beth out of her head. She decides to stop worrying about meeting an impossible ideal of goodness and just focus on doing good, by using efficient (if violent, and therefore immoral under certain paradigms) methods to protect her family. Her plot in this episode has its detractors and I understand the criticisms that the message wasn’t handled as well as it could have been. But I think it does okay. Mabel definitely reevaluates her need to feel like a good person here. She switches from prioritizing what’s important to her, the validation of being "pure of heart", to what’s important to others and in the bigger picture, simply getting the unicorn hair to keep Bill out of the Mystery Shack.

Finally, compare the twins’ disastrous errors in judgement in “Scary-Oke” and “Dipper and Mabel vs the Future”, when they both accidentally unleash terrible forces of evil upon the town and set in motion a local apocalypse.

Dipper recites an incantation from Journal 3 that causes the dead to rise as bloodthirsty zombies, desperate to prove to the government agents before they leave that the supernatural is real and warrants their help investigating, driven by both his desire for knowledge (his tool to feel secure in himself) and more immediately his fear of being dismissed as unworthy. He is emotionally vulnerable, but still creates the dangerous situation on his own initiative. Since he doesn’t need a blacklight to read the spell and the beginning of the episode established that he’s already familiar with all Journal 3’s visible entries, he knows what the spell would do. He doesn’t realize how many zombies will appear or how dangerous they’ll be. But he is aware that there are risks. Plus, the Shack is hosting a party full of innocent civilians and Mabel has explicitly asked him not to interfere with weirdness. The one thing she told him not to do that night was raise the dead! And what does he do? Raise the dead.

Mabel is actively deceived and manipulated into giving who she believes to be Blendin Blandin, an expert in time-altering technology, what she believes to be an item of such technology, with the intention of warping time to extend the summer for the town. This is a selfish choice. But on top of how emotionally compromised she is, sobbing in despair after “the worst day of [her] life”, consider her internal logic: the end of summer is going to mean the trials and tribulations of growing up for both her and Dipper, and they won’t even have each other if he gets his way; Wendy is already going through that and has told her how awful high school is; she overheard at least some of the Stans’ conversation at the end of “A Tale of Two Stans”, meaning she might know that Stan will have to give up his home and business once the summer is over; and she and Dipper both have true friends here who they will miss and be missed by, as opposed to Piedmont where we only see them supporting and comforting each other and never hear of any friends. And it isn’t like she’s the only one having fun! Stan is happier than ever, Ford is back home, Dipper’s come into his own more than she could ever have anticipated. He’ll still get to delve into the mysteries of this town that he loves so much. But she’ll be there too. If you want more Gravity Falls, you can see where she’s coming from. She genuinely thinks that “just a little more summer” would be a positive experience for everyone, with plenty of good reason. Yes, she’s recklessly messing with powerful forces that she doesn’t understand. Yes, she isn’t nearly as suspicious of this sudden miracle solution as she should be. But she has no evidence that this would harm anyone.

Their responses after making their mistake are also noteworthy. They’re both horrified and remorseful. But Dipper expresses no concern for the agents for the rest of the episode when it looks like they’ve been killed due to his actions. He even nonchalantly remarks that he thought they were dead when he sees them again. Mabel, however, reaches to stop Bill and begs him to “wait” before he knocks her unconscious. Then she’s imprisoned in Mabelland, which is designed to make her never want to leave and based on how it only occurs to her after she renounces it that the neon colours and repetitive background music are too much even for her, may additionally have a direct, though subtle, influence on her mind. So she’s a little distracted from her guilt. But by risking her life to fix the repercussions of her actions and save the town, she shows much more responsibility for the townspeople’s lives than Dipper showed for the agents he’d tried so hard to impress. He just happily went about his business for weeks believing he had two people’s deaths on his conscience. Never even looked into whether they survived.

These differences in their personal moral philosophies add another layer to the parallels between the two generations of Pines twins. Typically, Dipper parallels Ford and Mabel parallels Stan. But less so here! Like Mabel, Ford very staunchly believes in abstract moral theory, namely that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. He holds a grudge for weeks against Stan saving him from being lost in the dimensions through the portal, because it endangered the rest of the world by creating the Rift. It was a good deed with good intentions… but it didn’t only make life better for everyone. To Ford, that means it isn’t good enough. Hmm, which younger twin has a problem with judging anything short of ‘pure good’ to not be worthwhile? Also like Mabel, Ford’s self-righteousness is often hypocritical, considering his pride, selfishness and willingness to disregard the possible negative consequences of his actions, e.g. trusting Bill and building the portal in the first place.

Like Dipper, Stan is willing and ready to use underhanded methods to win against his enemies, to lie, cheat, steal and leverage assets he doesn’t really have the right to. He’s more inclined to be aggressive, spiteful and smug. As for holding grudges, even to an unreasonable extent, he personally despised a nine-year-old child even before he knew that the child was a bad person. He would absolutely summon Rumble McSkirmish to attack a rival for him. He prides himself on his cunning, another form of intelligence, and prioritises being good at what he does best over holding the moral high ground. He is shown to have lifelong insecurities about Ford being better than him in other fields (and thus explicitly valued more by their father); so his pragmatism is his way of trying to always be useful to the people he loves, and indeed a key way he shows them his love.

#gravity falls #mabel pines #dipper pines #pines twins #gravity falls analysis

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sourjinss · 3 months

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⁀➷ ‎‎YOU STAY ON MY MIND

➼ CHAPTER ONE ⋆ a happy coincidence ⋆ PREVIOUS CHAPTER

➼ PARING ⋆ tattooartist!taehyung! + bartender!fem!reader

➼ PRÉCIS ⋆ after a rough patch in your relationship you and your boyfriend are finally on solid ground but that all goes to hell when his older brother, taehyung comes to visit.

➼ CAUTION! ⋆ cheating sexual themes verbal abuse toxic relations this is pure fiction does not relate to any idol physical altercations fluffy and sweet (yay) angst (boo) slow burn?? side jungkoook story?

APPLE!! - i feel like the first chapter is always hard to do i hope you guys like it though! it took me while and the writing might be ass (mybadd) but heart it and reblog if you do enjoy !! xoxo

PLAY THIS ⋆ come here by dominic fike , talk 2 you by brent faiyaz

TAEHYUNG had an easy life; he would tell you that himself. but his appearance could tell a different story for anyone who was small-minded.

he could feel the stares from miles away a man around his age who expression spoke envy because his seat partner was too close to drooling on her rather conservative skirt, lust written all over her face.

an older woman, who was disgusted with just being in the same space as him, her daughter had looked at him with admiration despite his tattoos and his many piercings.

he offered her a small smile and looked back out the plane window, he liked a routine he put precision in anything that he deemed worthy.

making a trip to his hometown was not in his plans, not that he was complaining he wanted to see how his little brother was doing but in saying that led him where he is now, trying to find as much peace as he could with his seatmate, jeongguk snoring obnoxiously his thin lips parted like the clouds that they flew by.

taehyung didn't know why jeongguk was so set on following him, without taehyung at the tattoo parlor he could finally act on his crazy ideas.

he chose not to think about too much jeongguk was already tired of being nagged by the elder.

mingyu, his little brother suddenly came to mind he was much like his apprentice. “kook” taehyung whispered as he reached over and gently shook him on the shoulder

jeongguk ignored him and turned his head the other way his voice coming out slurred and groggy “is the plane going down?” taehyung smirked and shook his head looking at the people passing them both to board off “well fuck off” “m’kay” taehyung leaped up out of his seat happily and grabbed his suitcase, leaving the stubborn kid by himself after a minute he had realized and cursed at taehyung under his breath, running to catch up with him.

“bitch what?!”

noelani looked as if you had a red ball on your nose and a rainbow wig on. “there’s no way you took his bum-ass back” feeling the heavy embarrassment creep up on you like a bad cold you turned around bringing your focus back on the glass you were previously cleaning.

but you knew your best-friend wasn’t having none of that “yn honey are you serious?” “i know you don't have to rub the shit in..” you sighed turning back to meet her ridiculous stare

“what?” she blinked as if she was thinking about the next words to come out her mouth, which you knew she wasn't “is the dick that good?” she said loudly, inside voice never being considered. glaring at her you snatched her glass of liquor “first of all, that’s enough for you”

it was near closing time, there was a few people in the bar and you was almost done with your nightly duties noelani was drunk and you took that opportunity to tell her what had happened with mingyu, praying that she wouldn’t remember the next day if she were sober she would've taken the initiative and attacked mingyu in the back of your head you kind of wished that she did. you wished of a lot of things lately

“okay the only logical reason is that you're with child and he's the baby-daddy” noelani suggested, blowing a tight curl off her forehead, chin rested calmly in her palm “i’m not pregnant..i just forgave him” those words felt nasty coming out your mouth

“what- why do you think what he did to you was worth forgiving yn?” she crossed her arms, swaying gently

you paused, your mouth ajar and before you could answer the bell on the door rung, the cold air being pushed in. two men sauntered inside “fuck its freezing” one of them seethed, combing their fingers through their jet-black hair he was taller than the other, he dressed in all-black attire his hands covered in tattoos, a ring hanging from the corner of his mouth. the other was somewhat similar, dark attire, hands covered in ink, but he had honey blonde hair his appearance to you seemed gentler in a way “your dumbass wanted to drink in the middle of the night”

“you didn’t have to come” in response to that the honey blonde smacked the back of the others head “who the fuck was going to drive your sorry ass home?” he looked around and his dark eyes reached yours and stayed that's when you realized that you were staring at them both quickly you averted your gaze but his eyes stayed on you.

“is that like a turn on of yours or something?” jeongguk mumbled pinching his brows together while they walked to the bar taehyung nodded mindlessly his eyes still perched on your silhouette jeongguk followed his eyes

“dude..am i tweakin' or are you eye-fucking someone” with that taehyung finally removed his eyes

“what are you talking about?” he deadpanned and rolled his eyes “whatever makes your monkey jump..” jeongguk snickered and went back to his phone right when taehyung was about to cuss him out you walked over.

standing in front of them making both of them pause in their tracks to look at you “uhm hi what can i get for you..guys?” either of them uttered a word and it was making you feel extremely awkward pursing your lips tightly you provided a small smile “ill come back later”

“no that’s okay we’re ready” jeongukk vocalized smiling back “can i get a blueberry daiquiri but frozen please”

you weren’t expecting such a fruity drink from him you thought as you turn around to face the other “and you?” taehyung’s hands felt sweaty it was freaking him the fuck out

“i’m actually not drinking tonight” you smiled at him and tilted your head “next time then” when you turned around to make jeongguks order he slapped taehyung on his arm and shook him excitedly taehyung pushed him off him but was secretly geeked out because what did you mean by next time “so how long are you two staying in town?”

taehyung was feeling himself “how do you know we aren’t from here?” he smiled pulling his sleeves up to lean his forearms on the bar staring at your back his eyes trailing down to your ass, which was doing those jeans a favor

“well are you from here?”

that’s when you turned around to face him “i am my friend here isn’t-“ taehyung stuttered, causing jeongguk to laugh beside him, slapping his thigh and sipping on the drink you served him

“what brings you guys here?” wiping his mouth with the back of his hand he grins, hitting taehyung on the back “taehyung here is visiting his baby brother and helping out a fellow artist in the area and i’m here for the ride”

“jeongguk here is the tattoo’s shop receptionist back where we live and he had nothing better to do so he tagged along.” taehyung interjected straight-faced

jeongguk ‘s knowing smile deflated and went back to his drink dejectedly. you laughed and nodded, putting the drinks back in destinated places taehyung found himself wondering if that laugh was genuine and if the smile you shown was real

“i figure you two were artist”

“oh you’re an artist?” jeongguk interviewed in which you shook your head quite flustered “oh no no i only have like one tattoo”

taehyung wanted to know where it was how big it was, how’d it looks on your skin, what it felt like to trace it with his fingers. “i’m close to some artists” that came out like a question out of your mouth.

“really? name some we might know them”

you were about to tell them about mingyu’s work, in the past you had boasted about how hard he works to create art and bring into life, but something stopped you “there's my friend, noelani she's super talented”

as if she was summoned noelani somehow managed to stand on her own and came over “yn i’m going to head to the crib” she slurred but tried to give the impression that she was dead sober

“yeah, no” you said as you grabbed your bag everyone but them had left.

one thing you knew about her is she was really good at fronting, pretending be someone who had their shit together, noelani was one of artist you are close with she is a taller woman with dark red hair tanned skin incorporating many fine line tattoos, color etched in each one she was a few years older than you and both of you were roommates in college and since been inseparable.

“i am not even drunk-” she leaned her hip on the stool and turned to look at jeongguk who was drinking quietly

“what are you looking at?”

his doe eyes widened and blinked you covered your face with both of your hands and groaned internally “ignore her please”

you sighed while untying your black apron and walking over to your friend, wrapping your arm around her waist

“we’re actually about to close.”

“shit- sorry” taehyung said as he stood up burning a hole in jeongguk’s head who was still in his spot, ignoring taehyung he turned to you and pulled out his wallet “how much do i owe you”

“don’t worry about it, hope you two enjoy your stay!” you smiled tightly struggling moderately to hold a drunk noelani up jeongguk bit his lip

“can i at least help with your friend?”

you looked between them “and how do i know you two aren’t like perverts or something?” noelani all of sudden stood up straight and squinted “the tall one is someone i’d still be with if he dogged me out” noelani spilled before going limp into your arms once more

a-beat passed and you kind of wished you died a quick death right there jeongguk smiled awkwardly and taehyung stared at you in disbelief a look in his eyes you couldn’t read

you looked at jeongguk and carefully offered your friend “i have a gun” you lied swiftly as jeongguk gently carried noelani on his back and in response she rested her head on his shoulder, he blushed profusely.

you and taehyung were left alone behind the duo

“if me and my friend make it out alive tonight, i truly hope you and him have a nice stay” you humored.

taehyung looked at you and grinned his lips stretched into a boxy shape

you thought it was cute

“i promise we have no intention to do such a thing” you nodded and shyly tucked a stray hair from your ponytail behind your ear, you were both walking slow and it was nice, talking to him was pleasant “how long have you been a tattoo artist?”

taehyung stuffed his hands into the red leather jacket that hugged his frame and hummed as he pondered

“about five years or so?” jeongguk and noelani had probably reached the vehicles but he couldn’t find a reason to care.

“how long have you been bartending?” “for 8 years or so..” you looked at his coated arms shamelessly and it was like each piece stuck to his skin perfectly

“it was my mother’s bar; she would haunt me if i let it to waste” you kicked a small rock and smiled to yourself an apologetic expression flashed over his face "way to ruin the mood y/n you thought" and quickly raise your hands

“i’m fine it was years ago”

taehyung looked back at the bar, his dark eyes shining with adornment “she would be so proud of you y/n”

a lot of people said that to and you never really knew if what they said was truthful, taehyung made it seem almost believable.

Before taehyung could see how thrown off you were by his statement jeongguk yelled from where he was “if you two don’t hurry your asses up!”

you brushed off the feeling that settled in your stomach and quickly opened the back door to your car helping jeongguk put her in looking at him strangely when he put his coat over her torso.

taehyung raised a brow and looked at him skeptically.

jeongguk only shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck “what? she said she was cold” he then circled around and got into the car him and taehyung rode in

with that you and taehyung was left by yourselves and to be truthful taehyung wasn’t rushing to leave you for some unknown reason you were incredibly interesting to him; the way your hair flowed with the cold breeze, how your arm flexed slightly when you wrapped it around your friend's waist it all drew him in, and that made him anxious hell you made him blush for fuck sakes.

“so um i guess ill see you guys around?” you say with a sweet smile planted on your lips, taehyung only nodded and licked his lips silently.

you turned your back on him but before you could climb in and drive off taehyung stopped you by gently grabbing your wrist.

“if you want anything done— tattoo wise please come by, i'm down the street from where your bar is” he suggested shyly and took his hand off your (he noted) much smaller wrist.

you grinned and climbed into your car taehyung closing the door for you. “that’s nice of you, stranger” he shared the simper and leaned down to your window, his face dangerously close to yours “i have to repay the kindness you showed my apprentice”

“maybe ill use the favor soon, maybe not” you teased lowkey getting into the little moment you both were having

“i would hope so, i hate leavin’ debts neglected”

“it was just a drink-” you started

“i know just lemme repay the favor, ma” he sent his award-winning smile before leaning back up and hitting the top of your car

“drive safe its ice on the road” he offered before going back to his own car, which was much nicer than yours.

but he never drove off, it took you a minute to realize that he was indeed was waiting for you to leave and that made you smile a little bit and while you drove off you waved a hand out the window.

jeongguk looked at him and shook his head “I know you fucking lyin”

taehyung rolled his eyes and drove out the parking lot “what are you talking about?”

“flirted her head off dude knowing damn well she got a man” he stated and looked at taehyung like he had sticky note on his forehead that said ‘biggest dick walking here!’

“she got a boy and he don’t even deserve all that” taehyung knew what he was doing was morally wrong, but it felt right and- hold up

“didn’t you give her homegirl your jacket?” jeongguk suddenly was very interested in the amazing city lights that flew by “how you think yoongi’s shops doing?"

taehyung chuckled and reached over to pinch his cheek “nah nah nah playboy you did that smooth as hell, now she gotta see your dumbass again”

jeongguk grumbled, a warm blush creeping up his neck “if that’s how you flirt i feel bad for her”

he couldn’t stop thinking about you, about your body filled out perfectly in your work outfit he couldn't stop wondering where that tattoo of yours laid, if it was done on a drunken night or were you feeling frisky due to boredom, he wanted study it like he was testing for his license again and he hoped to see you again, even a glance will do..

"this is bad" he notioned the smile quickly being wiped off his face

you chose not drive noelani home instead you took her to your place, your house was your family home you grew up in it, it was left to you by your late mother she knew how much it meant to you.

after a failed call with mingyu and about all your dying strength you got noelani situated in one of the guest rooms, knowing she was going to hot in the middle of the night you took off her clothes and tucked her in, not forgetting to put a bucket with a trash bag by her side and water on the stand.

closing the door you practically dragged yourself to your bedroom, opening to see mingyu sleeping peacefully in your bed, in your room. the same room he fucked another bitch in, the same room you grew up in.

you heaved a heavy sigh and silently got a tee-shirt and closed the door gently

walking back to where noelani remained and threw off your soiled clothes, residing in nothing but a tee-shirt and your panties, climbing into bed with her and resting your face in the hollow of her back

the last thought crossing your tired mind is how taehyung called you ‘ma’ causing you to sleep with a small smile

the next morning you awakened by the sound of your annoying ass alarm, waking noelani up too, “ow ow ow” she winced holding her head with her hands, “fucking hell-” she moaned as she got out of bed and rushed to bathroom which you presumed to throw up and shit.

the winter sun shined heavily into the room, and you founded it irritating, the past few weeks you found a lot of things irritating.

getting out of bed reluctantly, the scent of eggs and bacon forced itself into your nose

did mingyu really took the initiative to make you breakfast?

“mingyu?” you called before walking around the corner, yawning and stretching your arms above your head only to bump into a broad chest.

“fuck my nose-” you whined, now you were not a morning person at all, and you were seconds away from cussing mingyu's ass out for not watching where the fuck he was going

little problem though, you looked up it wasn’t mingyu it was taehyung like the guy who charmed you last night like the same guy with the pretty works of art on his body and even a prettier smile.

you both stared at each other in utter shock, and you swore he could your heart beating out your chest.

noelani came out the bathroom and rubbed her eyes, pausing a few steps away from you both announcing what was going through both of your heads

“what in the absolute fuck is goin’ on?”

#jungkook #taehyung fanfic #taehyung smut #tattoo artist taehyung #taehyung scenarios #taehyung #yoongi #bts fanfic #bangtan #bts fanfction #bts smut

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h50europe · 4 months

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I wish fans would stop dissecting Buck/Tommy scenes but enjoy them for what they are: flirty banter between two lovers. Oliver stated in an interview he and Tim agreed to keep this relationship on the lighter side, more like a rom-com.

But no people go and dissect it like an alien discovered by NASA in a backyard.

When Tommy throws the line, "God, I hope so," he is nothing but hinting at the age difference, which is, give or take, about 7 years. So what? Seven years is nothing. Still, Tommy refers to it but means it as a joke. And Buck even blushes a little.

I can't remember we've ever seen Buck that flirty and all smiles whenever he and one of his many GFs where together. Can't the pearl clutchers be happy for him because he is finally who he is? Without having to hide a part of his sexuality that he kept buried deep inside before he met Tommy. A side he couldn't even show to Eddie. A side he knew was there but never dared to explore? Tommy came into Buck's life and opened this cage. He understands Buck on a totally different level than Eddie ever could. We see that Eddie has no gaydar. He was also clueless about Tommy being gay. Being so close to Buck, like the tin hats want them to be, he must have realized that Buck isn't only into women but guys as well. "Buddie" lived practically out of each other's pockets. And not once did Eddie ask, "Could it be that you aren't just into girls?" In a serious manner, not as a joke.

How about dissecting Eddie's dating "issues" with the doppelganger of his deceased wife? Does this imply Eddie's into necrophilia? This is ridiculous. It would be only one of their reactions. The nicer one, I guess. But it is no different from their daddy-kink nonsense.

What's wrong with these tin hats who are constantly complaining about LIs in general. No matter if it's Buck or Eddie? Shoving your favorite ship down everybody else's throat is the opposite of being open-minded and tolerant.

If Buddie should ever become canon, they will need a lot of patience. Eddie suffers from PTSD and is mentally unstable. Now, he lost his son. He has so much on his plate already. The last thing he needs right now is Buck coming over him like a force of nature and telling him he loves him. That would be the final straw if you want to see him end up in a loony bin. Eddie has to be on his own for some time to find out what and who he really wants. Something that would have to be stretched at least over a few episodes, if not over a full season. If it should be realistic. It took them 100 episodes to address Buck's bi-sexuality. And we saw hints here and there. We never saw hints of it concerning Eddie. Why do these "fans" think you can turn him bi from one moment to the other? Like Oliver said, it's not what he wanted for his character that Buck is bi, and suddenly, everyone else around him has some sort of sexual awakening. Since when can't a bisexual or gay man can't have a heterosexual bestie?

Also, bashing and harassing an actor for a part he is playing shows how sick these tin hats are. Or do they really think they could scare him off the show with their immature behavior and their unfounded hatred? Such behavior never ended a series character, let alone made a showrunner diverge from his plans and suddenly turn his show into a fan service-only show. Get a life ASAP, you tin hats and spread your toxic behavior among your ilk. It's not our fault you're leading a sad life full of envy and h*te. I am so sorry for you all. Fueled with so much anger must turn you into embittered personalities with no fun and no friends. How many of you opened sock puppet accounts to have at least someone to talk to? Living in an echo chamber can be exhausting at times...

#bucktommy #buddie tin hats #tin hats #fandom wars #evan buckley #tommy kinard #eddie diaz #ryan guzman #oliver stark #911 abc #kinley #kinkley #tevan

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loneduet · 11 months

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Secrets - Part 1

Summary: You love Sokka and it scares you. You don't know what he'll do if he finds out. (Your a firebender)

A/N - ngl I wrote this for myself because of my recurring obsession with this lovable boy.

warnings: kissing, kinda short sorry

Hope you enjoy!

__________________

It all started when I met aang.

I ran way from my home not too long before i met them. Growing up in the fire nation was rough, especially being the emperors daughter. After zuko left to search for the airebender, i soon followed suit and left my status behind. All I ever was to my father was a dissapointment and I couldn't deal with Azula alone.

I was left with few options of where to go. I ended up living undercover in ba sing se where I soon met three kids my age. They were strangers at first, but now I don't know how I lived life without them. They have become my friends. My family.

While I know they are the exact people my brother is hunting down, I couldn't help but join them on their journey. I don't know what I'll do if I have to face my brother, but I know that I will never betray them.

Each of them showed me a kindness I have never known or deserved. Katara immediately accepted me, she loved having another girl be on the conquest and she insisted on braiding my hair everyday. Aang was kind and understanding. Deep down I know that he is aware of the secrets I keep, but he respects my boundaries and he shows me the fun to be had of everyday things. And than theres sokka. He is a completely different story.

When I met him my whole world was changed. At first he was wary of me and my additional presence to the group, but we soon started to get along. Really get along. He was protective and caring. At first glance, i immediantly respected the way that he treated his sister. While they fought like all siblings do, it's obvious that they truly love each other and I know that sokka will take care of her until the end.

I can see that all sokka wants to accomplish is to be a good leader and brother. He doesn't have bending abilities and he has admitted to me that this is one of his greatest insecurities, but it is far from a flaw. He hides a lot of his fear through his stupid jokes and ridiculous attitude, but I have learned to see through his disguise.

I have fallen so incredibly fast for this water tribe boy and he is completely unaware. Knowing his story, I can't let him find out about my past. He will never love me especially if he knows that im fire nation scum.

__________________

"Y/N, do you want to share with me?"

I looked over to see Sokka and his adorable puppy dog eyes looking at me.

"Of course." I giggle, helping him set up the tent.

Due to our constant travels and relocations, we had very few supplies which resulted in only three tents between the four of us. I wasn't complaining though.

"Goodnight Y/N." Aang said, giving me a friendly kiss on the cheek before heading to his tent.

"Yeah, goodnight!" Katara said with a wink. To her, it was obvious that I liked her older brother. She immediantly approved when she found out about it. If only she knew who I was.

I climbed into our shared tent and zipped it up behind me. Sokka was already laying down opening up the covers for me.

It was a normal thing for sokka and I to fall asleep in each other's embrace. Ever since we accidently fell asleep during one of aangs stories we have been inseparable. Sokka claims that he sleeps better because of how warm I naturally am and frankly he helps me keep the nightmares of my dad at bay.

From an outside perspective, our relationship is definitely weird. It's not normal for 'just friends' to cuddle up to each other every night. Deep down though, we both knew that their are feelings, but neither of us wanted to ruin what we have. What we could have.

I slipped under the covers next to him, his water nation blankets being especially fluffy and comfortable. Naturally his arms wrapped around my smaller frame and I tucked my head against his chest. His slow heart beat helped lull me to sleep.

"Y/N?" Sokka asked right before I dozed off.

"Yea?" I softly replied.

He than looks me straight in the eye. "I'm really glad I met you."

The statement takes me aback and I look maintain his eye contact, sitting up.

"Can I kiss you?" I whisper, not being able to help myself any longer.

He doesn't reply but leans forward and captures my lips with his. His body radiates warmth as he scoops me into his lap. I slide my hands into his soft hair that is let out of his usual ponytail. He grunts softly and let's go of my lips and puts his forehead against mine.

"Y/N, I think I love you."

Before he could return to kissing me my entire body freezes. He notices when I tense and looks at me questionably.

"I cant." I reply, leaving the tent in haste. The boy of my dreams watches my figure go, wondering what he did wrong. I cant do this to him. It has to stop.

#sokka atla #sokka #atla #fanfic #avatar the last airbender #sokka x reader #fluff #oneshot #firebender #Sokka x firebender #Firebenderreader

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snickerdoodlles · 6 months

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I was gonna ask you for ☕☕☕ on Kim characterisations but I know that could put you at risk of assassination 💀 so free choice! Any ☕ on anything you need to get off your chest - I love u

😂 it is a choose violence game, let's play with fire 🔥 three Kim characterizations i don't much care for:

writing Kim as really old

like. hmmmm. i feel like a lot of fic out there is just really bad at characterizing young 20 yos, there are a lot of stories that write Kim's vibes like he's 38 yo or something. it's. bizarre. 21/22 yo is still so young. there's still so much uncertainty at that age and so much self-discovery to come. i've complained about this before so i don't want to just rehash that but. yeesh. some people really kinda suck at writing "kid in college" aged characters.

not letting Kim be playful

honestly, this one kinda follows on the previous point? there's a very annoying trend of writing ~older~ characters as only ever very serious. and like, aside from the irritation at the way people are really bad at early 20s vibes, people never outgrow playfulness. in canon, i'm pointing to Porsche trapping Kinn under the sheets and farting or them huffing their morning breaths in each other's faces (i love u canon ❤). but people still do ridiculous shit at 40/50/60/70/80/ALL THE AGES too. 40yo sisters who greet each other by punching the other in the boob. the 60yo neighbor who tells me my shoelaces are untied every time he sees me in sandals. the 50yo uncle who flicks popcorn in the mouths of anyone who falls asleep during movie night. there's no age limit to this sort of thing!

but while some of the ultra seriousness seems to be a weird age thing, it's like people also missed that Kim is playful? he's very intense when he's in mafia business mode and he's a nightmare to the guards (❤), but he plays along with Khun. he teases Chay. he has a good rapport with other university students. he can be more lowkey playful than others, but Kim's not made of stone, he has his fun too.

Wik being a burden on Kim

this one starts running into differences in headcanon-- like personally, i'm looking for fics where Wik is Kim's home. i've cried about this elsewhere so i'll keep it short, but Wik is the life Kim poured blood, sweat, and tears into to build up brick by brick. Wik is the life Kim wants, it's the parts of him he thinks are the best of him. i actually make the MC of the ep4 university one of Kim's best friends (i call him Green), and one of my favorite headcanons i've come up with for them is that everyone thinks Green twists Kim's arm into doing outreach events, but actually Green is Kim's connection to university news because he loves doing them but never knows who to ask. Kim desperately wants to be a source of good inspiration to others and have purpose outside of violence, and Wik is his way of doing that. Wik is not a burden on Kim (in fact, i'd argue Kim all but said he is a burden on Wik, but i digress).

so, that's my personal preference for Kim's relationship with Wik, but obviously not everyone's going to have the same characterization and that's cool. where i start to get annoyed is when people write him as very...hmm. dismissive? of it. or otherwise seems like he doesn't like any aspect of it. i straight up back click on any fic that has Kim fuck up the name of some popular musician. this is not a specific call out, but for example-- i remember reading something where there was this offhand line of Kim being like "and there's a request for a show with some other musician, wangson jack?" and just. no. back click, goodbye, nope. shit like that really starts to bug me. some of it is personal irritation at how awful a lot of english speakers are towards asian artists (which like. random fandom people are not at fault for the crimes of USamerican music reporters. but maybe consider that until people overall are less shitty and dismissive towards them, one off lines referencing real life musicians like this are better off deleted). but over all i just...really, really dislike disrespectful attitudes like that (esp for something related to the arts) and i don't want to read them in my favorite character. Kim is pursuing a career in the music industry for himself--Kim being, u know, Kim, he's going to take it very seriously and with that, also hold a lot of respect towards his fellow musicians generally speaking. at the very least, he's going to be cordial and pleasant with them because no one likes working with an asshole and Kim is trying to keep his mafia bullshit far away from his Wik goals. not everyone's going to have the same characterization headcanons i do for how much i think Kim would pour himself into music and love it, but i really don't vibe with any take where Wik is a burden on or a drag for Kim.

and a bonus ☕ because i luv u too anon: anything where Kim doesn't love his brothers or sees them as actual competition instead of the ones he wants to protect the most. this is not a surprise to anyone here, u all know how much i love brothers, but i've noticed that fandom gets kinda caught up in the chess metaphors sometimes. and to that i say: 1. Terry Pratchett yall: sin is when you treat people like things. 2. Terry Pratchett again: chess is a stupid ass metaphor for real life. 3. kp canon agrees with that. Korn is shit at playing chess. (the fucking. ep1 game. omfg. Chan is all but eating his pieces to let Korn win. i'm still howling over the scholars mate in ep5.) Korn is noticeably shit at all his hobbies that are metaphors for controlling people. which is the point! the boys fail every time they try to play his games, because you cannot play people like you would a game. every triumph is rooted in overturning the game board completely.

[ send a ☕, get a bitchy* fic opinion ]

*personal preference related, we’re not here to be mean

#thank u anon this was fun 😂#kinnporsche #tea asks

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idunnoficsorsumthing · 1 year

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surprise

Bobby Nash x reader

Warnings: 18+ readers only. Mentions of abortion, and smut soo 18 +only.

The echoing sound of birds chirping outside woke you up. Bobby was the one that liked to stay in and sleep the day away more than you anyway. Usually you’d take the time to go for a run before work. It wasn’t public that you and Bobby were in a relationship and the two of you like to keep it that way. It simply was easier that way. After your history with bad men it was nice to know there was a good one out there. You were happy to be home after your visit to your cousin's house, she had asked you to help out with two of her children while she was in the hospital giving birth to her third. You loved your cousin like a sister, but those children were devils, and the best birth control you could ever get was to spend a week with them. You cling against his hot skin, as you try to think the nausea away. His big arms wrapped around you in his hazy awakening. “Morning” he said, his low voice sounded like he was seconds away from falling asleep again. He pecked a soft kiss against your skin, allowing his hand to move over your stomach placing his hand on your side. The second his warm hand moved over your skin the nausea became more present, and the dire urge to throw up rose. You pushed his big arm away and ran for the bathroom. The contents of your stomach ended up floating in the toilet bowl. Those evil kids must have given you some kind of stomach bug.

Most of your ‘relaxing’ morning had been spent next to the toilet bowl. Bobby had brought you some juice though you didn’t drink any. You thought about telling him you were too sick to go to work though nearing eleven it wasn’t as bad.The next couple of days the nausea hadn’t been bad, sometimes the nagging feeling of wanting to throw up whenever you were around certain smells, such as Buck after the gym.

It wasn’t raising too many alarm bells until the team responded to a 911 call near a place that sold greasy foods, and you couldn’t help but barf on the side of the street hiding away from the patient. Bobby walked over to you when he knew the patient was in good hands with Hen. “Do you need medical attention?” He said, handing you a sympathetic look. You shake your head. “No, it 'll pass just like last time.” You said, referring to the other call the other day that caused you to puke your guts out. “You think you are maybe pregnant?” he asked softly. You looked at your boyfriend in disbelief. No way. NO freaking way your thoughts entered your mind as you try to do the mental math about how many weeks ago your last period was. The others were standing near the victim attending his care. “You still have swimmers?” You asked in a mocking shock. You were on birth control. It would be absolutely ridiculous for you to even think about being pregnant. “Hey! my swimmers go for olympic gold okay.” He defended. A little too loud for what he intended probably, as Hen looked up, and gave you a strange look. “I don’t think I am.” you tell him. He just said you’d talk about it at home.

It took you the entire afternoon to think about you having the possibility of it being a child. You had never thought of yourself as a mother. You never enjoyed spending time with children, and then all the complaining other parents do…. It just didn’t seem like something for you. However, the thought of the possibility of having a child with the man you love seemed different. The two of you made it home after the shift, and the take out dinner was set on the table. He was digging into his chinese food while you were stirring your food through your noodles, hesitant to start eating. “We were careful.” You mumbled as you could tell Bobby had barely spoken to you. He looked up from his plate. He raised his eyebrow. “No we weren’t.” he said, gulping his coke. “Okay well I don’t know I just thought at your age it was unlikely.” You tell him. He nodded and shoved another bite of food in his mouth. “We don’t know anything yet.” he said, you look at him. He had that look on his face when he tried to look happy but you could see past that. “If I am, I know we have options” you opted. Though your heart sank in your chest as you said that. He dropped his fork with a clatter on the plate. “A child is a blessing, y/n” He said, it was almost like he said it out of his belief as a catholic. “I would understand if you don’t want one.” you argued. “I mean after everything you’ve been through.” He stood up from his seat like he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to act. “ I can’t believe you want an abortion.” he said, looking like he was about to yell or scream or hit a wall or something. “ I just don’t think either of us have what it takes.” you said, the two of you stared at each other trying to think of the words. He didn’t even respond to the last thing you said. “Bobby-” you started. He didn’t want to hear it. “I’ll go get one of those damn tests.” he said, he rushed out of the apartment with his keys jangling as the last notable sound came from him. Tears rushed to your eyes, and the sound of sobbing was the only thing that echoed through the room.

You had been crying on the couch for a while now waiting for him. You wanted for him to comfort you, and tell you it was okay. Though this time you didn’t think you knew what to say or how to make it alright. His doubt for this baby made you want it even more. Somehow the thought of him not wanting it made you protective over your unborn baby. You finally hear the door unlock, and see Bobby walking in. This time the anger had turned into sadness. Neither of you had wanted to say anything to one another. Though as you wiped the tears from your cheek he gestured for you to join him in the bathroom.

The two of you sat on the bathroom floor. Neither of you were saying anything after the words the two of you spoke to each other earlier. The feeling of sadness as this was a milestone in life to be happy about, and instead you were worried how you would feel after knowing what that stick said. You had been getting lost in your thoughts, while Bobby was staring at the test on the ground that was there upside down. You sat in a cross legged position while he had one leg lying on the ground while his other knee was up resting his hand on the knee. The timer went off, and Bobby reached for it. “I love you” You said, as he touched it. “I love you too.” He said, a faint smile appeared on his face.

You moved closer to him till you were close enough to feel his breath on your skin. He flipped the test to show the result. Pregnant. The two of you looked at each other. The silence was deafening. He reached for you pressing his lips forcefully against your lips. You kiss him back it felt like all the emotions of this day were in that kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck and he is pressed against the wall of the bathroom. He pulls you against his chest. You start to reach for his buttons on his blouse that he was wearing exposing part of his chest. You start to suck at the base of his neck, as he starts helping you out of your shirt, exposing your bare breasts to the cold air. Your sensitive nipples hard, as he glides his hands over them. You let your head fall back, as he helps you to the ground of the bathroom floor. The cold tiles cause you to shudder from the temperature change. Bobby licks at your nipples, seeing how you respond so intensely to one touch makes you feel his hard cock pressed against your leg. Normally he would take his time to get you ready for him. Tonight he seemed too eager. He helps you out of your shorts, and touches your core, feeling the wetness coat his fingers. His eyes had darkened, and he seemed out for only one thing. Fucking out his frustrations. He doesn’t even bother taking off all clothes, instead he lowers his pants to allow his cock to flop against his stomach. It looked painfully hard, as he started to rub it against you to prepare you for him entering. With one push he glides his cock through your wet folds. “Bobby” you mewled. He didn’t give you much time to adjust to his size before he started trusting. His thrusts were hard as he started rubbing your clit trying to get you off. He let his hand glide to your stomach. “I always thought you couldn’t get more beautiful.” He grunted. The thrusts didn’t slow down; instead each time he pulled out you felt empty and wished he would pick up his pace. “You’ll be so beautiful pregnant with my child.” the words coming from his mouth caused your walls to tighten around his cock. You moan his name over and over again as you come around him. “That’s a good girl, cum for me.” he grunted as he quickened his pace, it didn’t take long for him to release inside you.

Afterwards, Bobby had turned on the bath for you. The warm water engulfed your body while he was sitting next to the tub, simply looking at you. “Thank god i’m already pregnant, this would be a terrible way to conceive.” you said, this queued a genuine laugh from Bobby. “Sure this is a much better story to tell our child.” he said, you slap him against your arm. There fell a silence between the two of you. “Are you happy?” you ask him. There never had been so much said in the silences between you two as today. “I am” he said: “I was- you were trying to be understanding for me.” he didn’t look at you instead he focused on the ripples of the water. “I took it wrong, I realized that a little late.” He took your hand and placed a kiss on your knuckles. “I’m happy too.”

#bobby nash x reader #bobby nash #911 #911 fox #captain nash

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jaggedwolf · 7 months

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Kate x Lucy

when I started shipping it if I did: pilot episode kiss, ngl, where it establishes that they must already be on-and-off hooking up in between sniping at each other about classified information. Lucy just shows up at her apartment!

my thoughts: when I watched this show I was genuinely bewildered by how this CBS procedural NCIS spin-off....just has a whole-ass lesbian romcom happening in its first season? The S1 finale literally ends on them getting together via a grand gesture with the rest of the team cheering.

anyway, they're so fun! they hit a lot of dynamics I like - Lucy loves loudly and openly while Whistler is brittle and contained, they have tension with a history, the height difference is cute, and man, maybe for a different ship all the drama in 1B would've been too much, but for these two I loved it, and not just because Whistler made the best kicked puppy faces while pining hopelessly

my random headcanons on when they each realize they're gay is that Lucy realizes in middle school and Whistler realizes in college, not too long before Noah's death. Don't think anything in canon contradicts that

What makes me happy about them: they're so ridiculously fond of each other. The consistent hearteyes they aim at each other while engaging in tropey shenanigans and still being individually competent agents makes me very happy. When it comes to the relationship angst, I like that for them it's never closeted/sexuality angst but their very different personalities, the usual fwb-to-lovers difficulties, Whistler's big mistake, and working together. They've been no less delightful as an established relationship in S2 and S3 - I love how much the show loves them, they literally got a ficcy-as-hell undercover-as-couple subplot last episode with all the usual gimmicks

Oh, I also did not anticipate how much physical fighting this procedural would have, and as someone who always wants my faves to get wrecked, I have been very well-served. Lucy almost dying while undercover right after Kate crushes her heart! Whistler getting injured while they're broken up and Lucy yelling at her for it! Such good food. (Show, you can keep beating up Whistler every season, I will never complain.)

What makes me sad about them: Their families, and the resulting loneliness. Lucy talks about her sister and brothers like a youngest kid who used to be close to them but isn't any more, last ep she commented that she knew from a very young age that her parents would never throw her a big wedding like her brothers', the way she gets set off by "financially responsible" as a rationale + her family's money has implications there. Kate's confession of how she shut herself off from the world after Noah's death.

But I like that they know about these things for each other (the way Whistler goes "Right. Right." at Lucy's comment tells us they've talked about this before), and the way they're navigating around and disarming each other's landmines here

things done in fanfic that annoys me: I understand that this is the danger of stepping back into another blonde/brunette live-action f/f ship but I cannot deal with those epithets. Or "taller woman"/"shorter woman" either, all of it always makes the PoV character sound like she has a complex about hair or height. It is okay to use the characters' names, I promise.

things I look for in fanfic: .....I've become such a hipster about characterizations for these two. Lucy is the one who broods and contemplates her feelings, Kate is the one who acts without thinking and gets surprised by her own reactions. Whistler is the one with better work-life balance and hobbies, who moved from DC to Hawai'i and stayed there despite the former being way better for a fed career, who goes surfing every Saturday morning without bothering to be contactable by work, and Lucy is the one who describes her life as consisting solely of "work, gym, and [Whistler]" and sometimes does paperwork on the weekends.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: Gosh, I really have no other Lucy ships. For Whistler, I could 100% ship Whistler/Tennant if it was like, after the kids are grown. Why do they stand so close to each other in that 1x14 coffee conversation and say each other's full titles, or have Whistler demonstrate career-threatening levels of loyalty to Tennant, if not to make me contemplate this ship? I hope Sam Hanna's presence doesn't mean we don't get any Tennant-Whistler stuff this season.

My happily ever after for them: Just keep on being badass agents together and stay in Hawaii long-term. Don't really see them having kids, but I can totally see Lucy convincing Whistler of having a cat. ...Maybe get a shorter bed, does Lucy really have to climb that high every night XD.

who is the big spoon/little spoon: lmao I was going to make a comment about Lucy jetpacking because of course she does, but the bed comment reminded me that that they have 10 billion pillows on their bed. One weekend morning Lucy is going to sleepily think she's spooning Kate and find out she's actually hugging those pillows, having been abandoned for the Dreaded Ocean.

what is their favorite non-sexual activity: does sparring really count as non-sexual for them it might really be meals at home? They both cook, they enjoy a quiet night in after their truly hectic cases, and they can put on GBBO or one of Whistler's preferred history documentaries afterwards.

#asks #anonymous #ncis hawaii #meme funtimes #lucy tara #kate whistler #lucy and whistler

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lemonsrosesandlavender · 8 months

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I cannot sleep so instead I am trying to work out exactly what Rolan, Cal and Lia have been doing all their lives and this is what I’ve come up with (thoughts welcome).

Ages

I’d guess Rolan is in his mid-to-late twenties (27?) and Lia and Cal in their early twenties (maybe 21-22 and 20 respectively?). I feel like there has to be a decent (like 5+) year age difference to explain why he’s so protective of them. Cal seems like the baby of the family.

Family History

So we know Rolan is adopted, but when? I’m definitely not the only one who’s had the abandoned-at-birth thought, given that tieflings rejected by human parents seems to be common in Faerûn. I’d guess he was at least old enough when he was adopted to understand that he was unwanted once, and that explains why even in such an apparently happy family he’s still unsure of his place. He might even have been adopted as a young teenager? He has to have had time to bond like siblings with Cal and Lia. We know that he conjured a cat for Cal when the latter was 8, so that would put him at like 15 max at adoption. But I personally think he was adopted earlier than that, aged 8-12ish maybe.

Not clear on a father figure in the game, but there are lines remembering their mum’s funeral. So it seems there was a good relationship there. From Rolan’s inherent protectiveness and assumption of responsibility, I’d guess that when she died, leaving him to take care of Cal and Lia, he was in his late teens and they were 10-12.

Economic/Social Status

Ok I know this section is titled a trifle ridiculously but bear with me. This is an academic exercise ;)

Although they were more welcome in Elturel before the descent, anti-tiefling racism seems pretty entrenched on the Sword Coast. It runs rampant in the grove, and in the wider lore of tieflings in DnD. And I doubt it sprung fully-formed during the Descent, without prior feelings to inflame. However, I think that although they probably had to negotiate a precarious social status and discrimination, the siblings don’t seem to have been living in severe poverty.

It’s clear that Sword Coast society has very high inequality, with a lot of people extremely poor and at the mercy of the patriars/aristocracy. But there also seems to be a thriving middle class and maybe they were part of it? Rolan certainly complains a lot about the Grove conditions, but then he also clearly wants to emulate his idea of what being a wizard is, and being a picky snob is part of that (sorry, my love). So I don’t think that’s a great indicator of the living standards he’s experienced so far.

He’s also clearly worked extremely hard, and has some money to spare (since he gives you it as a reward), but not a whole lot of possessions (probably they had to leave most stuff behind).

I end up at him maybe taking over a small family business (perhaps reselling books?) when their mum died, and working incredibly hard at that to save money for his future studies, to provide for Cal and Lia, and to save in case of the future that many tieflings dread (and indeed came to pass): no longer being welcome in their own homes.

Meanwhile, Lia and Cal were maybe studying themselves, and helping in the business. Did they know anything about fighting before the descent? I’m not sure. But now they seem fairly competent compared to your average civilian (although not really highly trained).

~anyway this is enough brainrot for now.~

#rolan #bg3 rolan #baldur's gate 3 #headcanon #cal bg3 #lia bg3

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rogerswifesblog-updates · 1 year

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Chapter 5 - it’s all about the…

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Previous chapter

A/N: Hi! I’m sorry for not updating so long but I’m busy with work and also the 1K follower special on my main blog ( @rogerswifesblog )! I hope you’ll enjoyed this chapter<3 Please let me know how you like it<3

Summary: You get an unexpected call in the middle of the nights. Everything changes after.

Warnings: mention homophobia, harassment, injury, blood, hurt Stevie:(

This time Steve stayed for four days at your place, but after noticing how much he enjoyed waking up in your home, eating with you whenever you made something to eat for him (even when you often forgot to eat yourself, you always made sure Steve didn’t). And Steve felt��at peace. Good. In a way he hasn’t in a while. He liked how you took care of him, not with money, but with these little gestures like massaging his shoulders when he sat hunched over his sketchbook complaining about his tense muscles.

He knew he shouldn’t feel like this.

Not when everything you did was because you were supposed to do it. Steve knew he accompanied you because you paid for it.

And he was stupid for enjoying it so much.

After you drove him home, once again with huge grocery bags and all his new clothes. This time you even had to help him carry it all to his apartment. (Maybe he should’ve called Clint instead of asking you? He felt awkward opening his apartment door to you, showing you how much different your living quarters were. And he was also terrified of Bucky or Sam hearing you and deciding to…introduce themselves. He hadn’t told them everything about you, yet, especially how big the age gap was…).

Thankfully nobody was home, well, at least nobody greeted you, which made him unintentionally sigh. “That’d be all. I should go to work now”, you smiled, wrapping your arms around Steve’s midsection and leaning your head against his chest.

You may stop being so attached to the young man, especially since he didn’t feel the same. You were literally paying him to be like this. To hug you back, rub his hands along your back and brush through your hair. Spend time with you, making you feel loved.

It’s all because of the money.

Nothing more.

To him.

But you?

Oh you knew you fucked up, already.

You were falling for him.

Every Time you spend another day, another moment with him, you are falling more, more, more…

Steve was incredible, nice and ridiculously attractive.

He could never fall in love with you. To him you were just there to fill his wallet and pay for his needs. You were too old, too boring and too overworked. Steve could have any girl his age.

Day after day, the time went by and you definitely felt your heart tingle whenever the young man texted you, which he actually did quite often, sometimes just to ask you how your day was. Sometimes you two went on dates, ate lunch together or grabbed a coffee before Steve’s classes started.

It was nice. Even a bit…like a real relationship. You enjoyed it a lot, even without having sex. Of course there was some intimacy, some touches and kisses. Steve loved making you feel good, especially after buying him a laptop, another pair of shoes or the occasional groceries. Even after telling him he didn’t need to do anything for the money, he wanted to. He said he enjoyed it. He liked kissing your throat, feeling your thighs trembling around his head, your taste on his tongue. It was addicting.

But you knew, to him there were no feelings involved.

At least that’s what you thought.

So it surprised you when a phone call woke you up, in the middle of the night. Steve’s picture lit up, the time showing it was past three in the morning. “Steve? Is everything okay?”, you mumbled tiredly. There was some shuffling on the other side, a quiet sob and wet gasping. “Steve? What’s wrong? Talk to me.” Still not hearing an answer made you feel anxious. The tiredness now gone, fear creeping up in your chest.

“Can you…can you get me? I got jumped-at the club”, he hiccuped, his voice sounding weak. You didn’t even notice when you had left the bed and started putting some clothes on-not caring about looking fashionable or classy, just quickly throwing on a hoodie and sweatpants. “I’ll be right there-don’t-dont go anywhere. Stay where you are-and don’t hang up, Steve.” Within minutes you were already on the road racing to the club Steve still sometimes worked at. After today you’d definitely tell him to finally quit. You’ve always been scared of a situation like this.

You definitely drive over a red light, or maybe two. Your chest felt incredibly tight, imagining in what condition Steve was. It sounded serious. There was still some quiet painful gasping coming from the other side, while you slowly pulled over at the club Steve should be at.

But he wasn’t anywhere at the front, making you feel even more anxious. Just when you wanted to ask him where exactly he was you noticed a sitting silhouette in the alleyway.

“Oh Steve, here you are”, you mumbled, kneeling down to him, gently brushing over his hair. Steve lifted his head, his face bloody and swollen, the beautiful blues red from crying. You could see it all in this dim light. God, you didn’t want to know how he felt. “Oh baby, I get you to the hospital and then-” “no-just home. I’ll be fine. Nose isn’t broken…some bruises…split lip..”, he mumbled, while you helped him up.

When you finally sat back in your car and you could finally really look at him. His nose didn’t seem broken, but it definitely did bleed a bit, his clothes were torn and bloody, too. “Who did this to you Steve?”, you asked quietly, still feeling your heart throb uncontrollably. Out of the corner of your eyes you could see him shrug.

“Four guys…I’m assuming homophobes since they called me…names. Said people like me are trash and stuff. I didn’t know them, but I think they assumed I’m gay since the club is lgbt friendly. Everyone knows it”, he looked back at you, the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. “At least now you can believe me I got into fights a lot…” He made it sound like a joke but you knew he didn’t find it funny himself.

For the first time in his life he had actually been scared in a fight.

Because it wasn’t a fight.

Steve was beaten. He knew they wouldn’t have stopped till he stopped moving-that’s the only reason they let go of him, after he acted unconscious.

And he felt even worse about acting like that. Like a coward. But he was alone and they took him by surprise, so what was he supposed to do? He tried to fight back. He really did. But…

He sighed.

“I’m sorry for waking you and…for all this. I shouldn’t have done that. I think…I think I just panicked. You can drive me home if I’m annoying you”, he mumbled, looking out of the window. Ashamed.

You looked at him for a second, before needing to concentrate on the road again. “Steve, please don’t feel like that. You’re going home with me tonight and I’m taking care of you, okay? That’s exactly what I’m here for. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there”, your voice was gentle, while you took Steve’s hand, squeezing, but he still wasn’t looking at you.

Only a couple minutes later you drove into your garage, guiding Steve into your home and onto the couch, where he sat down. His clothes were definitely unwearable for the future-the people really made sure to show Steve how they felt.

And it made your blood boil.

You wouldn’t stop till you’d find out who did this to him.

And you’d personally take care of them.

To help Steve clean his wounds you grabbed the first aid kit and sat down next to him, close enough for your thighs to touch. Looking him over again made your hands tremble from the anger you were holding in.

“Maybe let’s get you out of these clothes first, hm? And maybe a shower would be good first”, you mumbled, licking over your thumb and wiping away some of the dirt from his face. Feeling you rub your finger over his face made him blush a dark red, while he looked at you from under his eyelashes. A tingle expanding in his whole chest, his breath hitching a bit.

It was such a little gesture but made him feel so…

So safe.

He couldn’t stop himself from launching forward and pressing his lips onto yours.

To say it surprised you was an understatement, but you kissed him back, gentler and carefuller. It was the first real kiss you two shared and you never expected how it’d made you feel.

You felt your chest tingle, while you slowly wrapped your arm around his midsection-and that’s when the jumped a bit, a quiet gasp escaping his lips. You immediately pulled away looking down at where you touched him. Right where your hand was, was also a boot print on his hoodie. “Oh I’m so sorry Steve”, you whispered, but Steve already tried to kiss you again. This time you didn’t let him.

He whined quietly. “I want to kiss you-“ “Steve. You need to go shower. You’re hurt.” Steve definitely didn’t like this idea, especially when you noticed him still looking at your lips, but he nodded anyway.

“Would you…join me?”, he asked barely audibly, his face heating up and blushing furiously, while he looked down at his dirty hands, trying to wipe them clean at his pants.

You weren’t sure what to do, but seeing him so hurt, so…broken made your heart ache. “I can join you, yes. Come with me sweetheart”, he didn’t protest when you took his hand and guided him to your bathroom, attached to your bedroom instead of the one closer to his room.

In the bathroom you stopped in front of him, taking the material of his shirt in your hands and slowly pulling it up, making him wince while lifting his arms. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?”, you asked quietly, caressing your palm over his naked, slightly bruised, chest.

Once again Steve shook his head, taking your shirt and pulling it up before carelessly dropping it onto the floor. His hands found your waist again and he pulled you closer against him, so close you were curled against his chest, his chin on your head.

“I’m sorry for waking you-” “don’t you dare feel sorry, Stevie. I’m glad you called me. Thank you”, you lifted your head, gently kissing his cheek before your hands slowly pushed down his pants. “Is this okay or did you change your mind? You still want to shower with me?” You asked once again. He nodded immediately, before you were even able to finish the question.

“Okay…do you want a bath or a shower?” He thought for a moment, before shrugging. “I think a shower…I just want to go to sleep”, Steve sighed before taking off the rest of his clothes. You did the same and you both looked at each other for a second. It’s the first time you were actually funny naked in front of each other, so you both couldn’t stop the blush.

You took Steve's hand and walked with him into the big shower, turning the hot water on. A quiet moan escaped his lips when the water bug his tense muscles, making him immediately relax a bit more. While he enjoyed the feeling you took some shower gel and started washing his chest. He looked at you in surprise, the redness on his cheeks reappearing.

He really enjoyed your touch. The gentle and careful movement of your hands. The smell of your shampoo surrounding him, making him feel dizzy. So overwhelmed.

But in a good way.

He enjoyed every second of it.

“Could you turn around?”, you asked quietly and he did just that without needing to be told twice. You started washing his back, masking his shoulders carefully, feeling how the tight muscles slowly slackened. He pressed himself slightly more into your palms, making you smile as you slowly and gently wrapped your arms around his waist, kissing his back.

You caressed his skin with kisses and gentle touches, while Steve just enjoyed feeling so close to you.

He shouldn’t feel like this.

This… needy and independent. Like he needed to be taken care of by you. Not only that. He just wanted to be close to you. Be touched by you. Kissed.

A quiet sob escaped his lips. He didn’t realize when he had started crying but he couldn’t stop as you hugged him a bit tighter, the warm water patterned over his hair, dripping from his face and skin, his tears running down his cheeks,

“Come on, Stevie, let’s go to bed, you need to rest”, you kissed his back again, delicately moving him till he was facing you. “And I’ll make you some food in the morning…I’ll take the day off, okay? We can stay at home together”, You kissed his chest, before taking his hands and slowly stepping with him out of the shower. You took one of the softest towels you had, drying him before wrapping him in one of your bigger cosy bathrobes.

When he felt the fluffy material a smile crept onto his lips. Only now did you notice how dilated his pupils were. How soft his expression was. He had stopped crying too, but there were some salty trails of the last tears, but he seemed happier now.