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#and my... mini rewrite of the ending
emile-hides · 1 year
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Gender? Dad.
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sisterdivinium · 5 months
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And so ends the mini drabble regatta!
My thanks to everyone who read, liked or even left a little comment in the tags for these short attempts at different WN pairings <3
I want to hope that these humble offerings might inspire others to give other ships a chance, too, or to try their hand at drabbles in general. If I didn't please you with my interpretation of a given relationship, I am sorry; perhaps someone else will give it a go or maybe I'll do another one of these parties in the future and do better -- maybe you'll even consider joining me then.
For now, this blog returns to its regular schedule of doctor superion drabbles posted on Friday, at least until the end of the year. For early 2024, I want to have the next oneshot ready for publishing and I'll be focused on that until it happens. In the meantime, I'll be loitering around Tumblr as usual and sometimes on Dreamwidth as well :)
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thegnomelord · 3 days
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me very patiently waiting for that mothussy :3
oh and here’s another wittle thing i thought…i tend to hc price as a bear hybrid or other so i think he would go into hibernations,, since hes still on duty he wouldnt go into a long-term one like other bears, but simply sleep a LOT of the day…i would wanna cuddle big bear price so bad awaawaewfgwh 🥺 hes really hairy but instead of it being coarse hair, its more fluffy cause its the winter!! so his facial hair puffs up a bit…and his chest hair…and the happy trail…you get the idea :3 idk i just like bear price i want him to pound me into the mattress and suck my cock until it falls off hug me!!
-❀
Give me like a couple more days lol, I got ghost and soap more or less done in a rough draft format, just need to write out price and gaz then a quick rewrite to clean up the draft. Cause rn all mini drafts are about 1k and very rough so when I clean it up they're probs gonna be bumped up to like 2k? Just knowing me and how my drafts end up doubling in size lol.
Also duuude you are a treasure trove of ideas lol. I want bear price now and now I'm horny so here's a bunch of bear price
Help a Bear Out
CW:NSFW, MDNI, daddy kink, dom/sub, oral, somno, edging, foodplay, cockwarming. Bear Price x Top Male reader Ao3
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Imagine Bear Price who is by no means a small man any time of the year, bear genetics + having to be physically fit to take down terrorists leads to him having a very strong and imposing build befitting a Kodiak bear. The fur only adds to the striking image, making him look larger and his arms appear thicker, letting him scare many young boars from trying to tussle with him lest he crack their skulls.
But he turns massive in winter.
He can't help it; There's no escaping the iron clad control nature has over his body as his dark fur thickens and gains a fluffy golden color. No evading the instinct telling him to eat and rest and grow fat for winter until his hard earned muscles disappear beneath the cloak of fat. No ignoring sweet lull of sleep's song when he's yawning every five minutes and the words on the report swim in his blurry eyes.
Imagine Bear Price who, in his younger days, used to be self conscious about the changes his body went through. Growing up surrounded by humans was tough, dread would start building in his heart the moment the first leaf from the trees would fall. He's lost count how many times the kids would laugh at him when he'd show up to school after winter break with a chubby face and barely able to run a lap with how tired he was.
As he grew and started being curious about sex, it only got worse. He'd snatch the porn mags his sisters would buy behind their parents back, spending hours looking in the mirror and comparing his pudgy belly and fat thighs to the chiseled abs and lean muscles of the models. He'd spend hours exercising and trying to loose the weight he'd gain, but it would be all for naught.
And it didn't stop when he graduated and went into the military. His superiors may have tolerated the extra sleep and rations Price needed because he was a monster on the field, but they by no means were happy about it. He'd end up with thrice the amount of work and run ragged in training until he returned to his pre-winter weight.
Imagine Bear Price who doesn't give a shit about how he looks like now. Why would he, when he sees how you look at him? How you touch him? How you worship him?
Your hands wind around his waist and the groan you let out when you realize the space between your fingertips has gotten bigger is hungry. Your face burrows into his chest, his soft fluffy fur tickling your face as you nuzzle his pecks. The way his pudgy belly and love handles jiggle under your wandering hands makes you wish you had more arms so you could feel every part of him.
A content growl rumbles from the bottom of his chest, eyelids open just enough to watch you. "My boy's forgotten his manners." He chuckles, but there's no way to hide the wagging of his little bear tail. The reverent way you touch him makes him feel like a king.
"Sorry sir." There's absolutely no shame in your voice or your actions, not when your mind is held captive by the soft fluffy fur and the warmth of his skin. Without thinking you slide your hands up to grope his chest and you groan — the squishy fat covering his muscles and makes his pecs so large they don't fit in your hands anymore, fat plumping up between your fingers and his flesh jiggling as you press his pecs against your head and motorboat him.
The surprised laugh you earn is like ambrosia to sweeten the heaven you're drowning in.
Imagine Bear Price who gets so sleepy as the nights get longer and colder. While he still gets the work done, and for the most part doesn't mind the 'old man' jokes his boys make, it's obvious how irritated he gets when he's forced to stay awake longer than he needs to; each extra second spent explaining to a muppet how to do his job makes his eyes darker and voice rougher until he's passively growling like a construction engine.
Luckily you're there to calm down the beast.
Groping his ass or scratching the base of his tail to distract him so you can kiss along his jaw and rub your cheek against his beard. "You're doing it again sir." You mutter, voice smooth and low enough to soothe his prickled mind. Kissing him sweet and slow so you can tug his lazy body back into his room, into his den, where you can give him what his mind and body craves the most — sweet sweet sleep. . . and you.
Imagine Bear Price who's chest rumbles with a purr without stopping the second you settle into his den, his clawed fingers sliding over and groping your naked skin with just as much love and adoration as you show him.
Wrapped in so many layers of blankets and furs, engulfed by his bulk and his own fur, you are so so warm that neither one of you need clothes. Price's favorite position is to hug you like a Teddy bear. Despite the irony, it lets him wrap his body around you so you're safe and protected, practically suffocating in his fur. Not that you mind, especially when Price can nuzzle his nose into your hair or skin, to breathe in your scent to his heart's content and purr low praises into your ear: "Good boy,"
And, if you're especially good, he lets you use his ass as a pillow. He'll growl and grumble about not being able to scent you or hold you, but he'll soon be sleeping peacefully with you slumbering on his large ass.
Imagine Bear Price who, between the long stretches of sleep, get's horny. It's a natural reaction from sleeping next to his naked mate, wanting to feel you and hear your moans, but he doesn't have the energy to actually fuck. His lethargy turns the feeling of languid arousal into Hell.
Both of you try to initiate a couple of times; fumbling beneath the sheets, wandering hands roaming and groping as far as they can reach, his teeth nibbling on your neck and your hungry lips laying hickeys on his thick neck. Not wanting to undo the tangle of limbs you two end up grinding against each other, breathing the same air between kisses as sweet pleasure burns in your belies.
Then you stop just long enough to grab the lube, and Price's mind, still half way in lala land, only needs a couple of seconds of inaction to pull him back into deep sleep. By the time you return to him he's already snoring, limbs reaching out to grip you tightly and pull you close, but all thoughts of sex are forgotten.
And Price is so, so, angry with himself when he wakes up and realizes he left you high and dry again, shame eating away at his stomach because what kind of bear leaves his mate unsatisfied? The unworthy kind.
Imagine Bear Price who's mind is blown when you suggest cockwarming. Hibernation is about sleeping and relaxing, not strenuous sex, so the thought of being able to feel you while still fulfilling his body's need to rest? Oh it gets him hard.
It takes a while to figure out the perfect position, Price is too big and heavy to lay on top of you without crushing you, and his fingers earn to grip and hold you close so spooning him viable either.
Finally you end up with him laying on his back, legs spread with you laying on top of him and oh, it's perfect. You can feel him purr as you slide inside his blistering hot hole, his strong arms wrapping around you and claws scrapping along your spine. "That's my boy, perfect f' daddy." He mumbles through the fog of sleep, throwing one heavy leg over yours to keep you close.
You can't help the shudder that races down your spine, his musky earthy scent curling in your nose and making your cock throb inside him. You only stretching him long enough to be able to take you without tearing something, and Price relishes the slight sting of pain nibbling on his nerves when your cock hardens.
You don't try to fuck him, by the time you're fully settled inside him he's already snoozing. A slow roll of your hips and the resulting tightening of his hole is enough to sate your lust when it arises, enough to keep you half hard and stretching him out. His pecs make such a good pillow, thick fluffy fur and chest hair tickling your skin, the slow and calm beating of his heart lulling you to sleep before you know it.
Imagine Bear Price who gets an insatiable sweet tooth. There’s not a single secret stash in his room that doesn’t have his favorite bottle of honey in it. Hell, there’s more honey hidden in his room than cigars.
And his lazy mind decides to combine his hunger with honey with his hunger for you.
"Hold still for daddy, baby boy." Price mumbles against your abdomen, big hand gripping your hip to keep you still so not a drop of the honey he drizzles on your cock goes to waste. "Good." He purrs, wide tongue lolling out of his mouth to lap at your tip, claws massaging the skin beneath them.
He can spend hours laying between your legs, lazily lavishing your cock with attention while satisfying his craving for sweets. Whine and moan as much as you want, uselessly buck your hips as best you can against his unfair strength, nothing will make him rush — with his energy drained he'll spend meticulous minutes following every vein on your cock with his tongue before he even thinks of gently suckling on your tip. "Relax my boy, just enjoy this." He mutters, lips pressed against the sticky flesh of your shaft.
And when he does take you into his mouth, it's just as slow. His mouth hangs open so you can see your tip resting on his tongue before he laps at your slit, drool and honey running down his chin and sticking the strands of his beard together. When all the honey is in his stomach he just drizzles more, nibbling on your thighs or stomach to keep his mouth and mind occupied with you before starting the torturous process all over again.
The slow torturous pleasure is easy to endure just so you can see his eyes light up when you start leaking precum.
Imagine Bear Price absolutely loves loves loves the salty tang your cum adds to the sweet honey, the delicate combination of flavor dancing on tongue and only fueling his gluttonous mind to demand more.
The distinct taste is the only way to cut through the fog of lazy pleasure in his mind, turning him greedy. Price mumbles and growls incoherent words around your cock as he swallows you down to the root, swallowing around you and holding you down when you try to buck up. "My boy tastes so good." He mumbles as he rises up, nuzzling his cheek against your weeping tip, looking up at you with hungry blue eyes. "Just for daddy, yeah?"
"Ye-yes sir." You whimper through your clenched teeth, your head lolling back against the pillows when he swallows you whole again, your tip bumping against the back of his throat. "Just fo- fuck, fuck,- just for you." You don't know how he doesn't choke on you but you don't have the mental faculties to even think about that when your brains are leaking through your cock.
Price smiles around your cock, the purr rattling his chest and making his throat vibrate around you. "Smart boy," He praises after he pulls off, precum and honey swirling on his tongue as he takes the moment to savor the taste. He knows how close you are, he can feel the cum churning your balls when he rolls them in his rough palm. "You can give daddy a bit more, can't you?"
You honestly don't know how long you will last.
Imagine Bear Price who can get so insatiable he growls like a tractor when you try to weakly push him off your cock, so aroused that you think even the slightest gust of wind will make you pop.
Price bites your thigh enough to hurt and only his hand squeezing down on the base of your cock keeps you from cumming. "And where do you think you're going boy?" He demands, claws digging into your skin to pull your hips closer, little kitten licks of his tongue driving you to the brink of madness.
"S-Sir!" You moan before you can stop yourself, your hips twitching uselessly against his hands, thighs shaking. "'m sorry, I'm fuck, I'm so close." You whimper, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. Every nerve in your system is on fire, pleasure so strong it's turned to pain along your body.
Price huffs, but his tight hold lessens. "It's alright sweet boy," He hums, placing a sweet kiss on your cock head. "I know how you can make it up to daddy."
Imagine Bear Price who's only placated when you slide your cock back inside him. Your muscles ache from the strength it takes you to hoist his heavy legs over your shoulders and keep them there, but your rewarded with the tightening of his sweet hole, a pleased rumble leaving his throat.
“G-good boy-.” He growls, long claws scratching down your back as you pound into him. Your thrusts are slow but deep, making his toes curl every time you bottom out, tip scraping his prostate and making his cock spurt a dollop of precum with every thrust. “Fucking daddy so deep. I taught you well, yeah?”
"Yes, yes, yes!" You agree to everything he says without hearing any of his words, your body moving automatically to bully your dick into him. Every thrust is heaven and every second spent pulling out from his tight heat is hell, the sensitive veins of your cock scraping against his walls.
He moans when you manage to clip his prostate with your thrusts, one clawed hand sliding down to grip your hip hard enough to bruise. "Harder boy," He demands, rolling his hips to meet you half way, other hand raising up to scruff you. "You can go har-hm!- harder. . . don't you wan- fuck, want to make daddy feel good?"
Clenching your eyes shut you slam into him as hard as you can, feeling the fat widening his frame jiggle with every hard thrust. Without thinking Price pulls your head down to smother you in his pecs, soft fluffy fur tickling your face as the ample flesh suffocates you. The sweet scent of honey mixed with his musk erases any vestiges of sentient thought in your head, leaving your animal brain to pick up the pieces — Pin him down harder and mate him, rut into him until he's roaring with his full chest, his hard cock slapping against your stomach.
Price reacts to the change in your behavior by pressing your face even harder against his chest, his walls clenching around your cock like a vice so you have to try harder to push into him. Price’s lips brush against your ear, voice low and rumbly. “My boy, come in daddy.” He urges you on, both legs now tightly wound around your waist so you can only hump your aching cock into him. “Co-mh!- cum, cum in me son, you want to be good for daddy right?”
That's all it takes to drive you over the edge, mind going black like a piece of paper as your orgasm rocks through you with the intensity of lighting. The sensation of your hot cum spilling into his hole triggers his own orgasm and he cums with a thunderous roar, sticky seed shooting across your abdomen.
You collapse on top of him, his legs keeping your softening cock inside him, not that you have even a single functioning muscle to try to pull out. His big hand cradles your skull, honey flavored lips placing soothing kisses on your temple. "That's my boy." Price murmurs, his chest rumbling with a soft purr. "Did so well for me." He yawns, eyelids fluttering as that fog of lethargy settles over both of you. "Now rest," The order is spoken in the softest voice he's ever used, and it works like a horse tranquilizer on you.
As you drift off to sleep, you feel his hole clench around your soft cock, the cum inside him squelching as his body unconsciously tries to persuade yours into filling him up just a bit more.
It's gonna be a long winter.
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jell-o101 · 7 months
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BGM - The Real Ming - Turning Red
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Beginning of ACT 1
Beginning of ACT 2
Previous (ending of ACT 2)
✨ACT 3✨
1 / 2
[TOAD HAS ENTERD THE CHAT]
Oh man that stupid night to day transition had me for a loop. And I know Luigi looks pale, but it’s pretty fitting for a boy who’s feeling pretty sickly rn.
I know Toad is NOT KP, but maybe you guys might like how I rewrote him? So y’all will have to make do with the fungi boy. SPEAKING OF REWRITING, during this comic’s mini hiatus, I will be posting some scene changes for the film that take place before my comic to not only fit the continuity of it, but also because some of these are personal changes I would have liked in the film 😅. After all, this entire comic is a personal change of the film huehuehue.
The comic will be back in November. Hang in there, guys! ~chu 💚
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tomriddleslove · 4 months
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Pt 2 - The one that you want.
✩Theodore Nott x Reader
Pt 2 to Hey, trouble (DELETED)
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Summary: The one where just as things are beginning to look up, everything comes crashing down. Alternatively: Tension, Fluff, Angst.
A/N: This fic was written very sleep deprived so I ask you to bear with me. The second part is my favourite so just stick with it.
Songs: The Way - Mac Miller, Ariana Grande
Lover, you should have come over - Jeff Buckley
Promise - Laufey
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NOTE: I accidentally deleted my account and did not have the first part of this mini series saved! I will probably rewrite it but there is some context you should know, so i’ll try summarise it as concisely as possible:
You and Theodore used to be really good friends when you first joined Hogwarts. Naturally, as you both got older, you changed slightly. Theodore came back one summer and he seemed completely different, he was not only incredibly handsome but he had generally flourished as a person. The girls all loved him and he found a new set of friends, essentially forgetting about you. Time skip a few years and you become friends with Pansy, and the rest of the group. Theodore greets you as though nothing has changed. You habour a lot of resentment to him initially, but realise you really do love chilling with the group and so you set it to the side. In the fic, you’re at a party and you head up to the roof. Theodore appears and you chat for the first time in ages. It gets a bit tense when you subtly call him out but you try brush it off as a joke. He noticed you at their quidditch practice earlier on in the day with mattheos number painted on your face, and he sounds a bit jealous. You assure him it was only for jokes, though you’re confused as to why he’d be upset. Theodore (internally ) alludes to loving you and you’re both emotionally stunted idiots in love.
AND that brings us back to now. Enjoy xx
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Friday had finally come, and you couldn't think of a word that could place just how relieved you were feeling. Don't get it wrong, you hugely valued your education, and took pride in working hard, but at the end of the day, there's only so much history of magic one could tolerate before their brain tuned out. The surprise quiz you took in class today told you that you had reached that point many months ago. But it was ok, that was an issue for the future.
You click open the door to your dorm room, tossing your bag haphazardly to the side as you undo your tie, pulling it loose with a groan of relief. Pansy is sprawled out comfortably on your bed because apparently, yours was comfier (they were the exact same thing, she just couldn't be bothered to make hers in the morning.)
You flick a strand of hair that fell in front of your face with a dramatic sigh as you flop down onto the bed, lying perpendicular to Pansy as you rest your head on her lap. She has a half smile of amusement as her hand comes down to pat your head, eyes trained on her book. You raise a brow and shuffle up slightly to catch a glimpse of what she was reading.
You see the word ‘shaft’ once and that's all you need to see as you gasp with fake indignation.
“Pansy… Whilst I'm sitting here?” You groan and she grins, her face slightly red as she shrugs, shameless.
I mean, come on. You weren't a stranger to smut, but right in front of you? You grab the book from her hand and toss it across the room.
“None of that whilst I'm here. Your amazing and beautiful friend is vying for attention so focus on me.’ You say and she playfully rolls her eyes as she lies back on her bed.
“It's disgustingly hot. I can't be bothered for this year anymore. The days are as hot as hell depths and the evening has me freezing my nonexistent balls off.” Pansy moans, and you hum in agreement.
You’re grateful for your friend and her seemingly never-ending talent of speaking because you currently couldn't even muster the energy to speak.
“Do we have to go watch the boys today? Lila told me Madam Pince has charmed the library with a cooling spell. We could go there instead.” Pansy says, sitting up, and the idea is incredibly tempting. You live for nothing more than to get out of this dastardly heat, especially in the comfort of the library (Pansy and yourself had mastered the art of smuggling snacks in. The key was in making sure you triple-checked what you bought in, which you learnt after Pansy had accidentally sat on a Fizzlebees Exploding Sherbet last winter. The poor 1st year who had sat next to you was sure that there was some kind of attack and leapt under the nearest table.)
The mention of practice has your mind thinking back to your most recent encounter with Theodore. Just thinking about it again elicited that strange feeling in your stomach. You were, perhaps, close to a path of redemption (though it was more Theodore redeeming himself.)
With a sigh, you shake your head.
“We promised them we'd come. Besides, imagine the absolute havoc Mattheo will cause when he finds out we ditched for the library of all places. He would get us banned for a month, at the very least.” You say, and Pansy grumbles but ultimately knows you’re right. She sighs, muttering.
“Yes yes, I suppose you're right.” She begrudgingly admits and you grin, sitting up. You walk over to your closet, looking for something else to wear as you felt as though you were positively melting in your uniform. You flick through your closet, cursing the endless void that conveniently was full of sweaters and thick jumpers now summer has come. You dig around and find a pair of black denim shorts towards the back. You don't even know when you got them, but they fit and they'll do the job. You're thankful for the fact that you love the feeling of freshly shaven legs on your bedsheets, because heaven knows you would not bother to shave your legs for a man. You manage to find a green shirt, and you slip it on. It's nothing special really, but you weren't dressing up for anyone. You were long past those days now, you found that it was lovely not giving two shits. Pansy called it alarming, but you liked to think of it as… eclectic.
Pansy brings over her signature red lipstick (which you're sure only she can pull off) and holds your cheek in place to draw a number 10 on it, as standard practice. You reach up to grab her hand.
“Wait. Do 7 instead.” You say. She widens her eyes slightly and wiggles her brows as she looks at you.
“Oh? And why is that?” She probes and you playfully swat her, rolling your eyes.
“Theodore just asked me to. Besides we shouldn't inflate Mattheo's ego too much.” You respond a bit too quickly, and she has a shit-eating grin on her face. Pansy knows you well though, and she knows probing any further will only give her a stinging hex and nothing more, so she simply looks at you with a pointed look as she draws the 7 on instead. You watch as she traces the number 7 on her face too, adjusting her hair as she pouts and blows a kiss at herself in the mirror. You pointedly roll your eyes to tease her and she throws a pillow at you.
“Alright alright, you humble lady. Let's go.” You muse, holding your arm out. The two of you link arms as you descend down to the quidditch pitch. The sun is shining blazing down on you, and you feel uncomfortably hot and sticky within a few seconds of being outside. You truly weren't built for warm weather.
The grass on the pitch is a beautiful rich green and the sky is so picturesquely blue that it seems more like a postcard as opposed to real life. You imagine that this must be their favourite season; you had entertained the idea of watching one match in the winter season and immediately stopped after a gust of wind sent a bird flying into the girl sitting above you (You were sure it had given her that scratch on her cheek.) You couldn't cope with watching a match in such harsh weather, and you couldn't even begin to imagine how it must be to play in such conditions.
Idiots, really. They brought it on themselves. They definitely came to that realisation when they would be dragged out of bed at 5:00 am to go play in the freezing cold whilst you remained blissfully asleep under your warm covers.
You clamber up the stairs of the stands and curse under your breath. For all the beauty and wonders the wizarding world had, was it really that damn hard to have a few escalators here and there? You wanted to watch a practice game, not train to have the thighs of Hercules. You finally reach the top and shimmy down the benches with Pansy, leaning against the railing, The team was already up in the air, circling around whilst tossing the ball to one another. For all the grace and elegance Draco exuded on the ground, you couldn’t help but snicker when you catch the sight of him looking like he had slathered himself in red paint, all sweaty and grimacing; strands of his blonde hair clinging to his face.
“You alright up there Draco? Mummy forget to send you some sun cream?” You call out teasingly, and he sneers at you as Mattheo cackles, swooping down on his broom to greet you and Pansy.
“There they are!” Blaise says, a small grin on his face as he flies down to your level, joining Mattheo. You don’t even have the time to greet him because a loud gasp escapes Mattheo's lips, his hand coming out to grip your chin, tilting your face to the side.
“Traitors!” Mattheo says, eyes flickering between Pansy and yourself. You can't keep the grin off your face as you pry your face out of Mattheo's hands.
“Oh come on Mattheo. We love you all equally and need to express that love as such.” Pansy drawls, a taunting grin on her face.
“Fuck off, I'm the only important one,” Mattheo responds, puffing out his chest as he points to himself.
Blaise has to hold back from rolling his eyes, looking over at you exasperatedly. You exchange a glance with him and you feel your lips curl up into a small smile as you stifle a laugh.
“This was your doing! What did you do to them? Now I'm going to play like shit!” Mattheo whines, as he turns to look up at Theodore.
Theodore.
Your eyes flicker up and sure enough there he is. And god, how dare he look so good in this disgusting heat. His eyes are (and you have the feeling they were like that for quite a bit) trained on you, an unreadable expression on his face. He keeps his gaze on you, and you're sure at that moment he was trying to seduce your soul or play some stupid kind of mind tricks on you to have you thinking of him all day (it was working.)
His lips curl up into that godforsaken smile that borders on a smug little smirk. It has you embarrassingly weak in the knees and suddenly you're very glad it's hot, for you could blame your red cheeks on the heat. He flies down, tearing his gaze away from you as he comes close to Mattheo.
“Come on Mattheo, I’ve got an audience so I need to make sure I beat you embarrassingly quickly today,” Theodore says, egging his friend on.
“Yeah fucking right,” Mattheo says, turning to Theodore as the two engage in the most awful, embarrassing trash talk. You and Pansy exchange a glance and the two of you side-eye them with disdain.
The simple mind of boys managed to amaze you every time. Their attention span was impressively short.
Proving your point, Mattheo flies up to poke fun at Draco and Lorenzo, who both didn't seem to be holding up too well with the heat. You lean your elbows on the railing and stiffen slightly when Theodore flies up next to you. He hovers on his broom mid-air, resting his elbow on the railing in front of you. His face is incredibly close to yours, analysing your face with those sinful eyes of him which should be illegal because
Fuck, you were deprived.
“You wore it.” He says, and he sounds oddly breathless. You were assured by Blaise mere minutes ago that they had barely started practising.
Why did it seem so hard to speak? Why did Theodore seem so surprised? Why did you feel so bashful?
“You asked.” You respond, and his eyes search yours for a second before a smile tugs at his lips. His hand reaches out to cup your face, tilting it to the side as he looks at the 7 on your cheek.
Was this all it took for Theodore to touch you?
You’d have to start drawing 7 everywhere.
His fingers brush against your jaw, and you let out a shaky breath as his thumb runs along your cheek.
His touch leaves a fiery trail in its wake, and you are sure he has to be doing some sort of nonverbal magic because you feel as though you are going crazy. You resist the urge to let your eyes flutter shut because Theodore Nott simply has that effect.
He turns your head back and you stare at one another for a second more before he pulls back, and your mouth feels awfully dry.
“Mattheo smudged it.” He says, and his voice sounds slightly strained as he says so. You can't keep the corners of your lips from lifting slightly as you nod.
“Right.” You breathe out, looking at him. He grins, and this time you have to be sure you have not secured yourself a one-way ticket to the Janus Thickey Ward of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, because you swear his eyes flicker down to your lips for a brief second before he leans back like he's been forced to do so, wordlessly looking at you once more before he grips the broom with one hand, effortlessly flying up to start practice.
You don’t even have the time to process whatever that was because your ever-eloquent and insightful friend speaks the very thoughts running through your head.
“What in the ever-loving fuck was that?” Pansy utters, eyes wide as she stares at the spot where Theodore was standing.
Amen to that, Pansy. What in the ever-loving fuck was that?
Your hand hovers over your cheek, ghosting over the place Theodore had just touched.
You part your lips to say something, but can't even formulate the words, and Pansy recognises that.
“Holy Shit! He- That-” She says, hands grabbing your shoulders as she shakes you. You're ashamed to say you needed it because you were sure you were dreaming.
“What's going on between you two? First, you’re wearing his number to the match. Then he's practically eye fucking you and you're both literally about to make out.” Pansy babbles and you roll your eyes at her dramatics.
“Oh calm down, Pansy. He barely looked at me, and he was just fixing it because Mattheo had smudged it. There's nothing going on.” She says and Pansy narrows her eyes.
“Oh yes, and I’m fucking straight. We both know that's a lie.” She deadpans, and you shake your head with an exasperated smile.
You couldn't tell whether you wanted to crack up with laughter or strangle the shit out of her. With Pansy, the line blurred more often than not. It’s why you loved her so dearly.
“Genuinely Pansy, nothing’s going on between Theodore and me. We used to be really good friends. That's all.” You say, with a tone of finality. She sighs, mumbling under her breath.
“….Painfully obvious”
“Both know that's a lie…..”
“Hopeless idiot…”
You shoot her a glare at her mumbling and she returns the sentiment with a pointed smile, enough to make you roll your eyes with amusement. You rest your head on her shoulder as the two of you watch the match.
The day Theodore had walked past you like you simply didn't exist was the day you swore to yourself you'd never, EVER, let yourself be good friends with him again. You stuck to your word always, yet this was proving to be one time where you didn't.
You prayed you wouldn't regret this, but alas, the universe is cruel at times.
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The news of Draco’s father cancelling their annual summer holiday trip came surprisingly as great news to your groups as you all lounged in the library (which was as packed as it had ever been thanks to Madam Pince’s cooling charm. You all begged her to teach you the spell but she refused, and you were sure she kept it hidden to make sure people came to the library. Luckily for the group, you were one of the most conscientious students in your year, so you'd all get away with things due to the teachers favouring you greatly. A few other groups were kicked out immediately.)You all sat in a cosy arrangement in the far back end of the library. Pansy sat on the floor beside you, whilst you lounged in an armchair, feet thrown over one arm. Blaise sat on the other arm of the chair, with Draco and Theodore sitting opposite you. Between the armchair and sofa facing one another was a third sofa and a small round table. Mattheo and Lorenzo sat on that third sofa. Lorenzo stretches, sprawled out as he props his feet up on the table. You reach out and slap him with the book you were reading, and he cowers sheepishly as he puts his feet down.
“I was looking forward to summer in Versailles,” Draco complains, and you sigh. Would be nice to be able to go on such trips.
“Actually…” Pansy says, sitting up as though she’s just had an idea. Knowing your friend, you can't help but feel terrified about what's about to come out of her mouth.
“My parents have a beautiful holiday home down in France and they're going to Australia this year, so it's not being used. Why don't we all spend a week there?” Pansy says.
It's actually a very clever Idea, and a chorus of murmurs of agreement and nods echo throughout the group.
“That actually sounds good” Lorenzo says, and Blaise hums in agreement.
“I have family who live in France so they could sort out travel for us when we are there. I'm sure I can go.” Baise says and Pansy claps her hands excitedly, rubbing them together like some kind of evil genius (sometimes you were sure she was.)
“Draco, Theo?” Pansy says, and the mention of Theo's name has your eyes flickering up from your book. He's looking at you but the second your eyes meet he quickly looks at Pansy and nods, clearing his throat.
“Huh? Oh, uh- yeah.Sounds good.” He says. You lightly smile to yourself as you look down at your book.
“ I suppose I’ll tolerate it.” Draco sighs, and a chorus of groans escapes the group at his melodramatic behaviour.
“Oh piss off Draco, just admit you like us,” Mattheo says and Draco scoffs.
The boys very quickly once again get into a semi-play fight, and a stern hush from Madam Pince as she glares at the group of you sends them both sheepishly quiet. She walks away and it’s your turn to glare at the two boys.
“She may like me now, but if you two don't shut up she sure as fuck won't, and ill set your robes on fire if you force me to get through the summer whilst being banned from the library.” You spit, scolding them.
Mattheo and Draco both look down like children being chastised and Blaise has to hide his amusement as he nudges your shoulder, getting up.
“Right well, that's our cue to leave anyway. Have the real match tomorrow so we need an early night.” Blaise says. One by one everyone gets up, Pansy pushing off the floor with a sigh as she dusts down her skirt.
She turns to you, raising a brow.
“You coming?” She asks, holding a hand out and you look up, shaking your head.
“Nah. Gonna stay here for a while. Finish reading this.” You say, holding up your book with a weak smile. Pansy shakes her head with a smile, ruffling your hair (much to your dismay).
“My little neek. Have fun!” She says, and you flip her off at the comment. She grins, blowing a fake kiss back at you as she manoeuvres past the wooden bookshelves and out of the library.
You sigh and feel as though you're sinking further into the plush armchair, a pillow held to your chest as you read your book. Everything about the library was so pleasantly calming. The dim lights that cast dancing shadows of the book spines across the wall. The bibliosmia that you inhaled deeply as you lay for what felt like hours, reading whatever you could get your hands on. You’re so caught up in the allure of the library (Pansy might have a point, you definitely were a neek), that you don't even notice the presence of someone coming to sit down on the sofa next to you until the sound of the leather cushions sagging under weight draws your attention up from the pages of the book.
Seriously? Were you actually that oblivious? It was extremely alarming if you were.
You look up and see Theodore moving to take a seat on the sofa next to you. He stretches out his legs, his large frame suddenly making the space seem a lot smaller.
“Hey.” He says, and your lips quirk up in a smile as you speak.
“Hey,” You respond, folding the corner of your book.
“What are you reading?” Theodore asks, and you raise a brow.
Did he really have an interest in the book you were reading? A few years ago the Theodore you knew would never touch a book (though he would listen to you ramble on about them for an hour.)
But Theodore has changed, And so have you. He’s no longer the Theodore you knew, and the reminder turns the feeling in your stomach unpleasant.
You hold up your book, weakly smiling as you show him the cover. It was rather beaten and bruised, but you had owned this copy since your first year. You’ve reread it more times than you can count.
“Little women,” Theodore says, a small smile of recognition on his face. He remembered you, always walking around with that book. Theodore couldn’t comprehend what half the words in the book meant, but he remembered hearing you talk about it and thinking you were truly the most incredible person he had ever met.
That hadn't really changed.
“Mhmm. Must be my 5th time rereading it this year.” You say, with a small smile, and Theodore lets out a low laugh.
He's looking down at the table, and you admire the way the dim light dances along his features, making them look surprisingly soft.
“Love Jo all your days, if you choose, but don't let it spoil you, for it's wicked to throw away so many good gifts…” Theodore starts, gaze trained ahead.
“......because you can't have the one you want” You finish, quietly.
Theodore's gaze drops to his hands, fiddling with the threads on his bag. The air is thick with unspoken words. A quiet dance of regrets lingers in the spaces between your words.
"Little Women," Theodore repeats, his fingers tracing the zip on his bag. "I remember how you used to quote passages from that book like they were sacred verses. It was almost like a religion for you."
You can sense the undertone in his words—the acknowledgement of a shared past that now exists as a distant echo.
The silence that follows hangs heavy.
You shift uncomfortably in your seat, the worn pages of the book suddenly feeling like a fragile shield against the currents of emotion. Theodore's eyes, once familiar and comforting, now carry a hint of regret and a touch of something unsaid.
"Jo March was always your favourite," he continues, his voice soft, almost hesitant.
“Still is,” you say, and he nods, looking up at you. His smile is tight-lipped, and you fight the urge to reach forward and massage the furrow of his brow. He reaches into the side pocket of his bag, pulling out a book.
Little women.
You frown as you take the copy from him, flicking through it. There are scribbles and annotations all over the pages.
You hate the way you instantly recognise his handwriting - another testament as to how Theodore was weaved into everything you did.
Theodore takes the book back, his fingers lingering on the worn cover. He opens the book, thumbing through the pages, his eyes fixing on the annotations.
"I've been reading it," he admits, his voice a low murmur. "Annotating it. I wanted to see it through your eyes, to understand why it meant so much to you."
You watch him, and your heart clenches at his voice. At his eyes, At the way he speaks, and the way he keeps his head down. The realisation that he held onto this piece of you, even as you both drifted apart, is enough to send you into a spiral.
"I see you in these pages," Theodore continues, his gaze locking onto the annotated paragraphs. "I see you in between the lines, and in the words. I see you in Jo, I see you in the witty comments. Every time I read this, It's like a piece of you is still here with me."
A lump forms in your throat, and you swallow hard, trying to push back the tears that threaten to spill over.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry
“Every time I read these words, I feel like I'm back with you, even if just for a moment." He admits, looking up at you.
The devastation in his eyes is surely mirrored in your own.
You want to cry. You want to shout, because how dare he sit here, and speak of you with such reverence, and act like he cares for you when he had forgotten about you so easily? How dare he say he sees you in everything he does when he looked right past you when you stood in front of him?
How dare he act like he missed you when he didn’t?
You can't say anything. You physically can't, because every time you open your mouth it hurts. Grief clings to the pipes, scratching at your throat. It restricts your breathing, it gnaws at you.
Theodore looks at you and clears his throat, quickly looking down. You fail to make out the fact that his own eyes are threatening to spill with tears, as your own teary eyes cloud your vision.
It was always like that with you and Theodore.
Amid your shared tears, the unspoken suddenly becomes the unsayable.
He gets up, and he can't bear to look at your face because every glance of those tears in your eyes eats away at his heart. He grabs his bag and throws it over his shoulder, rushing out for fear of what you might say.
“See you” He murmurs, walking away. You can’t tear your gaze away from where he walks away even as his form disappears, and you swear the boy had taken part of your heart with him.
The quote “Fate was a cruel mistress” Never made much sense to you. Fate was beautiful even in its destructive nature. Fate was unstoppable, she didn't wait for anyone or veer away. You used to admire that about her. You found it to be a beautiful thing. Of course, it's because you also believe that fate would only wait for you. Wait that one extra second. Then, perhaps, Theodore and you would be on the same path. Instead, you were two, walking the same path only a heartbeat apart. As if time itself conspires to teach that love can occur in the same book, but pages apart.
You cannot love the beauty of her tenacity and cower from it too.
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rookiesbookies · 4 months
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Captain John MacTavish x His wife x Sergeant Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish
I dont know how it would happen but i'm imagining sweet little Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish meeting Captain MacTavish and his wife. I guess this is me rewriting what happened bc Im made we’ll probably never see Neil as his boy again. 
Masterlist is pinned on profile as always, don’t forget to leave me a comment or a request in my inbox to let me know what yall want to see!
Smut smut smut under the cut for my lovely mutual @shotmrmiller of my John and his wife meet sweet little Johnny au thing.
Also @glitterypirateduck this one is for you and #soapitup
“Bhean,” he whispers loudly, following it with squirrel noises, motioning for her to follow. She walks out of the recreational room. He nuzzled bis face into her neck, letting her know he was nervous about what he was going to say. “I'm getting serious deja vu.”
“Talk to me, Goose.” A shameless quote of their favorite date night movie from when they dated made his nervous face crack a smile.
“I have this crazy memory,” he mumbled into her neck, she always worried he’d hurt himself craning it down like that so often.
“What about, don’t leave me on cliff hangers, Mr. MacTavish.”
“Do you remember our first time together?”
“Skiing or fucking? Because I remember both very well.” He chuckled at her bringing up his failed skiing attempts from a vacation they went on.
“Making love, Bonnie.” He hummed, “would you believe me if I told ya it’s because I had done it before?”
“Considering baby you told me he’d call me mommy? Yes. Yes, I would.” She hummed. “You also found my clit really fast which makes that really reasonable in retrospect.”
“What if, like my future self taught me at that stage, we teach him how to make love to you so he can charm you with the monster.” It came out more as a question, making his nerves hammer against his chest. He was more than sure he beloved wife would say yes, but he didn’t want to risk making her uncomfortable or saying it wrong. 
“He does really want to impress me,” she mumbled. “Fine. But there’s ground rules.”
“Of course, Mo chridhe, anything.”
“Just the tip, you know how I am about hygiene. I don’t fully try young you to keep everything clean. He swears to secrecy and if I ever think for a second he mentions this im ending his blood line. And you stay with us. You are my husband after all, not the boy.” The Captain nodded with every word. He’d make sure. He knew the Sergeant would want no harm to come to his future wife, and the Captain didn’t need a scorched relationship.
“Thank you, Mo leannan, it’s what helped me keep up hope I could lock you down when I met you when I was his age.”
“So it was a memory and more than deja vu?” She asked with a raised brow.
The Captain just simply nodded, planting a kiss on her temple, “you’d tell me if you wanted to back out right? If it made you uncomfortable?”
“John.” She was serious, she never called him just ‘John’. “I expect the same from you. And you’d know I’d never keep that from you.”
She reached up to his face and gently rubbed it. He melted just a little bit into her touch. “I assume you don’t plan to do this on base?”
“No, but that’s the hard part.” “I’ll handle it, go tell the mini you,” she said softly, planting a kiss before walking away.
The Captain sighed and let his shoulders relax, he knew he was so lucky to have her. The sergeant was about to be the lucky one though.
He made his way down the hall and stole his past self from a conversation with Gaz. “My wife and I have decided to give you an opportunity to learn more about her.” He said in a low deep voice. “I will be teaching you about her body so you can please her but there are ground rules she set and a few of my own.” Once he covered his wife’s, he got on to his own, “do not bite her, dig your nails into her, or ignore me if I tell you to do something. No coming inside either and don’t try anything.” Sergeant Soap nodded along, “I’m not sure you’re actually listening, sergeant.” The Captain growled. Soap’s eyes went wide, “Captain me, sir, I prayed last night for an opportunity to feel her skin, honestly I was just expecting to be allowed to shake her hand.” The younger Soap grumbled, “believe me, I’m all ears.” “And none of that ‘I have a latex allergy so I can’t wear condoms’ crap. I know we don’t have that allergy. You will be wearing one.” “You’re so no’ fun,” Soap mumbled. “Fine.”
The Captain didn’t entirely know how he felt about the kid creaming his wife. Sure, it was him, but it was a younger, rowdier, dumber him and not his same body. Getting married meant he was the only one allowed to cream pie his wife, and yes, it is a version of him, it wouldn’t be the same as him doing it. Even if his wife is on birth control and enjoys them, he knows he’d get jealous, way too jealous. Besides it’s his job anyway, he signed a paper to be able to do it, and this kid version gets to just randomly do it.
“So when do I get to show mo bhean how a younger body is better to make love with?” Sergeant asked, patting his older self on the back. This made the Captain flip until the voice of an angel spoke up.
“Ya mean when you meet yer own damn wife. Ya wee-” the Captain’s rage was cut off. “Tomorrow night. I’ll be there ahead of schedule to prepare, my husband will drive you.” She said, walking past the two with effortless grace and a sway of her hips. She flicked a piece of hair back over her shoulder. 
The next 24 hours were full of different forms of tension for younger Soap. He was eager, so eager, almost too eager in the Captain’s eye. The Captain’s raging jealousy made him almost want to shut down the whole thing. 
When he loaded the sergeant and himself into the old truck he sighed. “Remember the rules?” “Of course.”
“Can’t believe you still own this truck.” “She’s carried me through a lot.” “When you meet YOUR wife, she’ll appreciate it. Square bodies are her favorites.”
The rest of the drive was small talk. The sergeant saw a notification appear on the Captain’s phone and snatched it up, since the captain was driving. He back read the short conversation from this morning between the Captain and his wife, who had been the notification. ‘Mo chridhe you better not warm yourself up on that clarty vibrator’
‘You expect him to be able to get me warmed up enough?’
‘Its a teaching experience, mo leannan’
‘I don’t want to make him wait too long, I remember how impatient you were <3’
“Does she think ima div?” Soap looked at the Captain and asked. “Reading my personal texts? Real professional, ya eejit.”
“Does she think I can’t make her feel good? Or make her feel like she’s on Eccie?”
“No, she just doesn’t want you to wait too long. She does this. I bought it for her first time I left on a long mission, now she uses it to take away the fun part of getting her warmed up.”
“So she thinks I'm a fandan.”
“Dinnae fash yersel.” The Captain sighed, “we’re here and the least ya can do is make her feel good as a thank you.”
When he dragged his younger self into the hotel room, it finally set in that he was going to be cucked. By a younger him. Fucking his wife.
He knocked on the door twice and it kind of felt like his wedding night all over again. There she stood in a silk robe, eyes only on him with a gentle and soft smile. It's a smile she only gave when she was nervous, he gave a similar smile back to let her know he felt the same. It was subtle, but he reminded him this was indeed his beautiful wife.
“Go strip in the bathroom and sit down in the chair when you’re done, we need to talk.” The Captain said sharply. 
“Aye aye Captain,” the sergeant mumbled, walking into the bathroom. 
The Captain’s hands immediately found his way to his wife’s hips. 
“Are you nervous?” He asked, holding her close with his mouth near her ear between kisses he placed in her hair.
“Of course,” she said softly into his chest.
“Do you need to back out? We can leave and forget all about this if you need.”
“Do you need me to want to back out?” She asked soft, turning her head to look up into his eyes.
“No, I don’t think so, mo bonnie lass.” He said, planting a kiss on her forehead. “Give me a safeword to give him and a safeword for emergencies.”
“Two levels of safe words?” 
“Just in case I don’t hear the first one, he’s kinda loud.” She giggled and placed a kiss on his neck.
“Bubbles for him and Soap for emergencies.”
“My old callsign?”
“I never call you anyway,” she said softly, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Can I undress you and keep that privilege to myself?” All he needed was the little nod she gave before he moved to untie the robe. 
The lace blue bra she had been taunting him with with the matching panties drove him crazy. She ran her hands up and around his chest as his opened the clasp with one motion and undid the hooks holding the straps over her shoulders so she didn't have to remove her hands from his torso.
He sunk down lower as he planted sloppy kisses down her body and removed her underwear. Lovely pacing a kiss at her lower lips before trailing bite marks backup as the Sergeant exited the bathroom.
“I thought you said I couldn’t bite!” He accused as he watched the Captain leave a hickey on his wife’s chest.
“YOU can’t, I can.” This made the younger Soap look offended. The Captain smirked at the Sergeant’s face. “My wife, remember. Not yours.”
His wife just ran her fingers through his slightly grown out mohawk, a means to sooth him. 
Captain MacTavish moved to his wife’s ear and whispered softly, “may I told yer hand through this, mo ghraidh?”
“Gu sìorraidh is gu bràth,” she said back, pointing to the tattoo on her collarbone. When Soap heard it he almost fainted.
“She knows the language?” Sergeant Johnny asked.
The Captain hummed, pulling his mouth away from the dark hickey he was leaving on her neck, “learned a little bit for me.”
The Captain gave his younger self a once over before landing a sarcastic remark as his eyes landed on the bush, “glad to know you haven’t started shaving yet.”
“You trim?”
“Occasionally,” the Captain pulled his waistband down a bit, nuzzling into his wife, “I wax for special occasions. Yer lucky I found one who doesn’t care.”
The Captain locked his fingers with his wife’s, gently herding her to the bed. He laid her down gently and got her into a good position, shoving a few of the lousy pillows under her waist to offer a better angle.
“How are you?” He asked softly, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. “Ready as I can be,” she said with a soft giggle, as he bent down to plant a kiss on her lips.
“Sergeant, come here.” The Captain commanded, pointing at the foot of the bed, his wife couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her as she dropped her hand over her face. The Captain moved his wife’s knees apart with his free hand, the other still lovingly holding her’s. Johnny got on his own knees as John commanded him as he spread his wife’s pussy lips apart with his fingers. “Ya see that?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, sir,” John corrected Johnny. He basically gave his younger self a tour of his wife’s softest pieces. Telling Johnny her favorite things that he does and what she reacts best to. Johnny was so enthralled with her body he could move his eyes anywhere else. Especially when John put his fingers inside and curled them suddenly making her gasp so Johnny knew how far in her g spot was. The way her body jolted and softly raised as the gasp left her lips was his new favorite thing. He was so jealous he didn’t have her yet. That she wasn’t his wife yet, that he didn’t have the liberty to mark her body yet. “Get to work,” the Captain said, patting Johnny. He didn’t need to say it twice because Johnny went right in.
The wife brought her free hand down to her mouth to hold in the gasps and moans as Johnny ate so eagerly. John was usually slow and sensual, to the messy and a vehement eating that was happening at her core was a much different sensation. John gently pulled her hand away.
“Checkin in with ya, are ya doing good?” he asked his lovely wife. Her eyes couldn’t focus, her mouth gaping and shutting. 
She gave a nod and a hum as her body started to clench as Johnny inserted fingers between her legs and curled, making her body lurch towards the sky and gasp. The Captain gently placed kisses on her face, her velvety cries just make Johnny want to do it again. “She’s even prettier from this view,” Johnny mumbled, spreading her apart with his fingers.
“She donnae like condoms but imma make ye wear one anyway,” Captain Mactavish told his younger self before placing a kiss to the forehead of his flushed wife, still coming down from her orgasm as her husband ran his fingers through her hair as her breathing slowed with her closed eyes. John threw the condom at Johnny, who quickly rolled it on before standing up. “Donnae force it in, go in slow.”
Johnny positioned himself, putting one of the lovely wife’s ankles to his shoulder before giving it a soft kiss. He didn’t dare pull her down the bed like he would have normally done, he walked on his knees to meet her. Hands sliding down her legs to lift her ass, one he saw as so perfect.
He slowly slid it in as John kissed his wife’s face, holding her hand. She was more than used to John’s dick by now, but she was far from used to Johnny’s pacing. So much energy and stamina, not to say John didn’t have it but John was definitely more about making love than he was about fucking or just having sex.
Once she started to grind her hips, Johnny’s face lit up and he immediately started a toe curly, back arching pace. His tip bullied her g spot, making her mouth fall open but no sound falling from her lips.
John cooed at her as Johnny bullied her soft parts, not caring about his own pleasure, solely the pleasure of this goddess in front of him. Once he was sure he had found the spot, Johnny folded her a bit more to hit it a bit deeper, making sure everything was dragging against her.
The only thing that left her were whines, she felt her melted brain might just spill out her ears as the white, staticy heat built up. 
A nice ring built up around Johnny’s cock as he began to roll his hips. Her pulsating cunt milked him so much he felt an almost numbness in his fingers as all he could do was hold her and roll his hips as she let out a broken moan and came. Her husband’s voice echoing around her head with praises and loving words.
It was down right impossible for Soap to not come from her body's pulsations so he did. He wished it hadn’t been into a condom but he was grateful he just got the chance.
John gave him a look and Johnny took it knowingly, going to get a warm and damp towel. He handed it to John who began to clean his wife up, nodding to Johnny to let him know he could leave. 
Johnny didn’t know it was so John could reclaim his wife with some slow sensual sex and lots of love bites.
John, unlike Johnny, was going to come inside. Johnny looked at the photo he had taken of himself with the wife of Captain John from the night prior, "I'm going to marry you. Yer the one I've been looking for."
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dudeitiskarev · 26 days
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Maybe Someday | Spencer Reid ☑️
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x female reader
Summary: A case brought you back to Spencer, and this time, he won’t let you slip away—a Spencer Reid mini series.
Rating: mature
Tags/warnings: spoilers for season 4 and 5; childhood friends (who don’t remember each other much bc ✨childhood trauma✨); hurt/comfort; eventual fluff; set right after ‘Memoriam’ + some rewrite of the episode; canon typical violence; suicide; reader is HIV+; pregnancies; abortion; panic attacks; reader’s past is tragic; dual POV (but mostly Spencer’s); a birthday; jealousy; suggestive content; no use of y/n; not beta read + English is not my first language so yikes
Word count: 23k
Author’s note: so I’ve been working on this story for more than two years. I was always back to it, adding little things and re reading it and polishing it. I somehow managed to put everything together and give it an ending and I’m really proud of it! so it deserves to be read by more people than just me. Also, I thought it was very fitting for @imagining-in-the-margins monthly challenge of February ‘New Beginnings’ 🥰 This is my first time writing Spencer so beware of that BUT I’d love to know what you think! Mwahhhh
MAIN MASTERLIST | SPENCER MASTERLIST
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INDEX
Chapter one
Chapter two
Chapter three
Chapter four
Chapter five
Chapter six
Chapter seven
Chapter eight
Chapter nine
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chimcess · 4 months
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Waterlog || pjm (1)
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Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, Age Gap!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 17.4k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: discussions of significant death (does not happen in story), talks of a bad car accident, talks of drunk driving (please drinking responsibly), more than likely wrong swimming terms and poor understanding of how the Olympics actually works (I did so much research, pls be nice to me lol), strong language, lots of mental health discussions, reader has mommy and daddy issues, Older reader, Jimin is a complete sweetie, the tamest chapter of them all A/N: Well, well, well, look who came back. I first wrote Waterlog back in 2021, and while I enjoy the premise, I hate the finished product. I wanted to go back and edit/fix what I originally had, but when I tried it became so different, I was better off rewriting the entire thing. I hope you guys like this mini-series. If you would like to read the original go to my blog archive. Thank you for reading!
masterlist || next || playlist
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Staring at the pool, I managed to calm myself with relative ease. Jin had been right, physical therapy had made things easier. The water glistened prettily in the lights, and I waited with bated breath for my trainer to come in. 
Emery was a sweet guy, pretty with a lip ring and tattoos, but with a surprising amount of shyness it was laughable. His softness was offset by his powerful muscles, and I enjoyed his never-ending sense of humor. Unlike Dr.Maddox, Emery treated me like I was a normal person. Not an Olympian who almost lost her leg in an accident, or the woman whose fiancé died. I was just Y/N, and it was a relief to be around him.
Running my fingers along the scars on my leg, I mindlessly drew patterns around them in the silence. It was not normal for Emery to take this long, but his assistant had said he was running behind due to another patient, so I was unbothered. I had planned my entire day around this, so I was in no rush.
Finally, the door swung open revealing a disheveled Emery. Breathing heavier than usual, he rolled his eyes at me in frustration before saying his pleasantries. Whoever it had been had gotten him worked up.
“Rough morning?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
With an annoyed sigh, he nodded.
“I shouldn’t say this, but I hope that woman never comes back here.”
I laughed, “We all have that someone. Don’t feel too bad.”
Shaking his head, I could tell it took restraint on his part not to rant and rave about the woman who had left. Emery and I were more friendly than most. I had been seeing him for over two years now, but we still kept a semblance of a professional relationship. Especially Emery.
“How’s the kids?” He asked, making small talk as we started getting ready for a swim.
I was the coach of a high school swim team in town, something I talked about quite a bit, and Emery always liked hearing about. He was a great water polo player but chose to go into physical therapy while he was in college. After seeing one of his friends get injured and how much physical therapy had helped him, Emery decided to change his major. Four years later, he says he could never see himself doing anything else.
“They’re doing well,” I said honestly. “We got a couple of freshmen on the team, but they’re doing a lot better than I thought they would.”
Emery hummed, offering me assistance getting into the pool. While walking had been mostly figured out, the obvious limp aside, I still had some trouble with getting in-and-out of things. Even my bathtub had to be switched out since I was unable to step over it. I still used the medical chair while in there, too.
The water was cool against my skin, and I felt instantly relieved. The dull aches and pains left as soon as I got into the water. Swimming to my usual spot, I waited patiently for Emery to join me.
“That’s great to hear,” He smiled.
Going to the edge of the pool, Emery grabbed a set of barbells and handed them to me. Taking them, the two of us went over the workout plan for the day. Pulling himself up on the pool’s edge, Emery picked up his stopwatch and told me to begin.
Getting on the interstate, I sang along to the radio as I made my way to Hoseok’s. The two of us had been friends since high school, our mutual love for swimming making it impossible to keep apart, and only growing with time. He was one of my biggest support systems after the accident. Both of us had retired years ago now, but I remembered our days as Olympians fondly. Those were the best years of my life.
A small group of our friends were getting together at his house to watch the summer Olympics this afternoon. The women’s swimming finals were happening today, and I knew two of the girls competing. Turning on my blinker, I quickly got off the interstate.
Pressing around my car’s radio screen, I went to my contacts and pressed Andy’s number. She was off today and in charge of getting everything together. Hoseok had tried to do it himself, but always seemed to forget who should do what and ended up buying everything himself. She picked up after the fourth ring.
“What’s up, sugar?” Andy greeted, her voice soft and light. Her Memphis accent was thick and brought a smile to my face. Everyone had made jokes about her being southern when we first met. “Don’t tell me you’re missing Nationals.”
I shook my head even though she could not see me.
“I’m on my way,” I replied. “What should I pick up? I completely forgot.”
Andy sighed, “You’re just as bad as Jin.”
Seokjin was Andy’s husband. The two of them had been together whenever they moved to Colorado, married before I ever met them, and became quick friends with Hoseok when they moved to the Springs. That was how I had met them. Whenever their daughter Dani was born, Andy had asked me to be her Godmother and I sobbed in her lap. They were my closest friends next to Hoseok. Jin was indeed very forgetful, though, and the jibe made me chuckle.
“Cut me some slack,” I argued. “I’ve been working out for two hours straight.”
I could hear the smile in her voice, “Just get some pizza or something. We’re picking up some wings and Hobi’s in charge of the drinks. Minho and Tilly are bringing… something. I don’t even know anymore.”
Fully laughing now, I saw a Little Ceasars up ahead and got into the correct lane. Minho and Matilda were loose cannons when it came to our parties. While sweet, and fiercely loyal, I found myself wondering why I hung out with them at times. We were night and day personality wise, but I loved them dearly. Minho would probably bring some Korean side dishes from home, and Matilda would pick up a few packs of ramen from the store. Andy was stressing over nothing again. I hoped she was getting proper rest on her days off.
“I’m at Little Caesars,” I told her, parking my car. “I’m going to get the basics. How many things of Crazy Bread should I get?”
She thought for a second before replying.
“Five?” She was definitely unsure about her answer.
It was hard to gauge just how hungry everyone would be, and Jin was a bottomless pit.
“Sounds good,” I said instead, already thinking about getting more.
“Drive safe. See you in a bit.”
“See you, Andy,” I unplugged my phone from the charger.
Pressing it to my ear, I pressed my start button and turned it off. I climbed out of my car and started walking to the store.
“Love you,” She sing-songed playfully.
“Love you, too,” I replied. Opening the door, a worker greeted me with a smile. “I’m about to order.”
Shoving my phone in my back pocket, I gave the worker an awkward smile before telling him my order. I ended up getting seven bags instead of five. Just in case. Dani really liked the stuff and Jin could smash an entire bag by himself. While I waited for the cheese pizza to come out of the oven, my phone started ringing.
“Hello?” I answered, unable to check the caller ID while the cashier shoved the crazy bread into my arms.
“I heard from a little bird that you’re thinking about competing again.”
I grinned and thanked the cashier as she handed me my other pizza. 
“Hello to you, too, Frank,” I replied. “And your little birdie wouldn’t happen to be Hoseok, would it?”
Frank and Sarah Boone had become a part of my life after the accident. They ran a local support group to help those affected by drunk drivers to get connected with resources and therapy. The two had lost their son when he decided to drive home drunk from a party and used the group as their own coping mechanism. They were wonderful people and owned their own joint coffee shop and bookstore in Denver. 
“Won’t say names,” He chuckled, “But it might have come from a certain part-timer. So, is it true?”
I placed the boxes in the passenger seat and rounded my car. This was not a conversation I was expecting to happen today. I had brought up the idea to Hoseok since the Olympics were coming up next year, but I was not committed to it. I was enjoying my new job coaching and did not think I was in any condition for competition. When he brought up the Paralympics I laughed. Those competitors were in better shape than I was, and I doubted I would qualify. I was disabled but my disability did not (as far as I knew) carry over into the pool.
“I was just talking shit, Frank,” Backing out of the parking space, I put in Hoseok’s address and started to drive. Switching over to my car’s phone, I put my phone down and looked at the road. “You know I’m happy with my life right now.”
He made a grunting noise that told me he did not really believe me. No one did. All of them were sure I was miserable about my career ending far before its time, and while that may be true, I felt more loss about the life I was supposed to have than winning medals. I missed Namjoon more than any medal. Frank and Sarah understood that.
“I know that,” He cleared his throat, and I could hear the congestion. Frank had come down with a nasty case of walking pneumonia two weeks ago and was still recovering. “Just got a little excited is all. It would be nice to see you putting yourself back out there.”
It would be nice to see myself back in the pool, I could admit that. I had dreams of it at times. Being a competitor was a part of who I was. From the first time my dad took me to my swim classes when I was six all the way until I claimed my eighth Olympic medal, everyone had said there was nothing I hated more than losing. I was fiery, free-spirited, and kept my eyes on the prize. It was the thing Namjoon loved about me the most. That made me frown.
“I left a champ,” I forced a laugh. “Need to save some gold for the rest of them.”
Hiding behind humor was a pastime. 
Frank laughed, oblivious to the hollowness in my tone. “Heard they have a new guy taking your place.”
That made me snort, “He’s not taking my spot. Totally different competitions, my friend.”
“Winning gold like you, that’s for damn sure.”
It must be Jimin Park. The kid turned up on the scene a year after my accident. He was a very, very talented swimmer. Fast as a bullet with the best butterflies I had ever seen, Park was a force to be reckoned with in the men’s league. It was a joy to watch him swim and this year would be his first Olympics. Hoseok and I were very excited to watch him.
“If you’re talking about Park,” I chuckled. “He’s far from new. He’s been competing for a few years now. First Olympics, though.”
“He’s young, ain’t he?”
I nodded, “23, I think.”
Truthfully, I did not know how old he was. I remember the buzz around how young he was when he first broke out on the scene. He was eighteen when he took home gold all season before a family emergency took him out of the Olympics last minute. No one knew what really happened, but his team had said his brother was in an accident, tragically losing his life, and Jimin was prioritizing his family. He’s competed every year since and with the Olympics next year, I was certain Park would be there. He deserved it.
I was parked in front of the house now and from the cars outside, I was the last person to arrive. Frank and I talked for a few moments. It was cute how much he had learned about swimming so we could be buddies. Sarah was the only person who recognized my face when I first started going to the meetings and her husband was determined to get me to open after weeks of sitting in bitter silence in the back. 
We hung up after I promised I would make it to the meeting next Thursday. Frank was not happy about me skipping the past two weeks, but understood I was taking some time to myself. My boys were going to compete this year, I had fought tooth and nail for that funding, and the extra hours at school were exhausting. Jeremy and Evan showed promise, but they knew how to drive me up the wall with all of their simple mistakes.
As I suspected, the party was in full swing. Matilda and Minho were laughing loudly on the sofa, Hoseok sporting a beer in the recliner next to them, and Dani practicing her gymnastics in the middle of it all. I could hear the commentators talking animatedly about the girls, who they believed would come out on top and highlights from the night before, but I never really paid them any mind.
“Pizza’s here!” Minho boomed, practically running to greet me.
I laughed, handing over the boxes, “Need help carrying the rest in.”
Matilda offered, happily taking my car keys and leaving the house. Minho had disappeared into the kitchen. Dani spared me enough attention for a smile and wave before launching into excited pleas for me to watch her new moves. 
“Super cool, babe,” I smiled sweetly after her handstand. Dani was not particularly good at gymnastics. She started later than the other girls, rarely did anything she was actively afraid of, and hated her coach. Andy was already looking for a better gym, but I just thought she should start pointing her in another direction. Dani loved dancing and she would be a wonderful ballerina or figure skater if given the proper training. The Kim’s, however, seemed fine watching her deal with gymnastics and cheerleading. “You’re getting better.”
Dani beamed, “Daddy said the same thing.”
Flipping the right way around, her hair coming out of its messily tied bun and falling down past her shoulders. Brown, loose waves made her look so much younger than her eight years, her small stature only selling the illusion even more. Her skin was smooth, and she always looked as though she had been playing outside in the sun, a constant tinge of pink beneath her sandy skin. Her features favored her father, large eyes, long face, and plush, pillow-like lips, but after meeting Andy’s parents, I could see her grandmother hidden within the mischievous glint in her eyes and too small ears.
“Your dad’s a smart guy,” I joked. 
She continued to babble away as I made myself more comfortable, kicking off my shoes and tossing my hat onto the small buffet table that sat above the shoe rack. Matilda came back inside, her arms filled with bags of bread, and I took two from the pile. With a thankful, thin-lipped grin, she also complimented Dani’s moves before disappearing around the corner in the direction of the kitchen.
“Dani,” Hoseok seemed to have finally grown tired of hearing the girl talk. I would imagine this was all he had been hearing since he arrived. “Do you want to color with me?”
The little girl clapped happily, her eyes bright and shining, before abandoning her mat to gather a few coloring books and her massive hoard of crayons. Hoseok looked at me then, a sly smile on his face before winking. I chuckled and shook my head. He always did that to make her shut up. 
I left the living room before Dani came back. I loved her dearly, but I could admit she talked too much. It was a good thing for a kid her age to be so social but that did not mean I wanted to hear her every waking thought. Andrea and Seokjin were the only parents in our little group, and I imagined it would stay that way for a while. Even if my dreams of children were still alive, I did not have anybody I wanted to take on that responsibility with.
Minho was eating the pizza, as expected, while Matilda had already claimed her own bag of Crazy Bread. Andy and Jin were snuggled up at their dining table, his arms securing her to his chest, and she curled into him. I loved watching them together. I had grown up in a house with two people who hated one another, barely kept up a facade of civility before my mother skipped down to be with her new boyfriend in Florida leaving my dad and I behind in Pennsylvania. We made it work but things were never the same after that. It made me happy to know little Dani would feel the love radiating in her home as she grew up. I had never seen two people so enamored with one another in my life- not even Namjoon and I.
“How was therapy?” Minho asked after we exchanged pleasantries. “Hoseok said you were talking about competing next season.”
I laughed in disbelief. That man did not know how to keep his mouth shut. I said the same thing I told Frank over the phone, and he scoffed. Minho never truly laughed, if I was honest. It was always a snicker, scoff, or chuckle. He was a man of little words and even fewer outbursts of joy, and I found his versions of those things just as reserved as the rest of him. He was the most expressive when he smiled, but those were just as rare as a genuine laugh. Dani managed to squeeze more out of him than anybody else. 
“Stop meddling!” Andy scolded the other man from her spot in Seokjin’s lap. 
“Never,” My friend replied, amusement clear in his voice.
“Never!” Dani echoed, voice louder than Hoseok’s. She was giggling happily alongside him, and I rolled my eyes. He was her favorite. “Never!” She repeated again, pleased when Hoseok laughed. “Never!”
“That’s enough,” Jin’s voice was even and smooth.
Dani did not shout again but we could all hear her and Hoseok attempting to cover up their laughter. Andy smiled fondly. Their little friendship had warmed her heart. After Dani, Andrea had been diagnosed with cervical cancer. It had come back six times before her doctor said she needed to get a hysterectomy. She grieved the children they would never have, the large family she dreamed of stolen from her, but once Dani was old enough to walk, she had been glued to Hoseok’s hip.
Hoseok for all he spoke about never wanting children, he adored Dani. His family was small, he and his sister the only children, but they were extremely close. She lived in New York City as a fashion designer and got married last year, and I always had the feeling Hoseok felt lonely without her. Dani was a welcome break from routine and made him feel special. It was sweet but I hoped my friend would find someone to share his life with someday. 
“It’s starting,” Hoseok announced.
It was a great day for the U.S. Opal Simmons was one to look out for. She was the oldest woman on the team, a shocking 24, but she could out swim a vast majority of them. Her freestyles were amazing, earning her a gold with Japan just a few points behind. I was hopeful she would be able to come out on top in her distance swim. While not the fastest in the pool, the girl knew how to pace herself. The cameras cut to the shot of one of her coaches smiling triumphantly at the performance.
He was a good friend of mine, Oswald Bunch. He had been heavily involved with the Olympics for years now, promoted to one of the lead coaches back in 2020, but I remembered when he was still competing. A few years older than me, Ozzie was known for his backstrokes and long-distance swimming, and we bonded whenever we got the chance to meet in London back in 2012.
That was my first Olympics. I was a fresh-faced 20-year-old on a mission. My team at the time was stoked to have me around and I was excited to be there. I had built up a solid reputation over the course of two years, winning seven medals my first adult-competitive season, and the high was incredible. Back then, I was always the one to beat at the breaststroke and therefore, the medleys were in my favor as well. I walked away with 4 golds that year, and again in 2016. The accident happened a year later, but I left the competitive world with 8 gold Olympic medals and 19 world champion gold medals. Katie Ledecky held the record now, but for a time, I was the most decorated female swimmer in history. I was excited when I was finally passed up, happy for the younger woman.
Ozzie was the man, but sadly never got out of Michael Phelp’s shadow. It was not his fault. That man was insane in the water and would become the most decorated Olympian ever. Bunch was a great swimmer, but I did not know a single person who could compare to Phelps. Hoseok, maybe, but he only had 12 gold medals. Phelps had 23.
“Simmons looks great out there,” Hoseok praised, a large smile on his face.
“Her butterflies could use a little work,” I murmured back, already seeing how I could fix it with some extra exercises. “It’s slowing down her freestyle. What else is she scheduled for?”
“I think she’s doing the 200-meter freestyles and the medley relay,” He replied, taking a sip of his beer. “Bunch is banking on her pacing.”
“She won’t win those,” I was positive. “She’s just going to get tired. Breaststrokes are obviously not her thing.”
He laughed, “You’re the breaststroke queen, Y/N. No one's as good as yours.”
I shrugged, “Ledecky is a great swimmer.”
“Never said she wasn’t,” He sipped. “Her freestyles are killer. Girls could never beat you in breaststroke or a medley. You’re untouchable there.”
It made me smile despite myself. Hoseok was right, those were my competitions. Even if Katie had surpassed my record for most gold medals ever, I still had more Olympic medals than she did, and they were in completely different events. I could have kept my title had the accident never happened. I would have. Even if we were friendly, Ledecky would have been my competition, and I would have fought hard to keep the record.
“What’s Jimin doing this year?” Matilda asked as the women’s scores were posted. Opal would be a strong contender. “Anyone know?”
I nodded, “I haven’t watched every competition, but he’s sticking to what he does best. Didn’t he swim the 200 yesterday?”
“Yeah,” Hoseok replied. “He’s skipping out today and doing his individual tomorrow. Swimming back-to-back after that. Kid’s a fucking animal in the water.”
I couldn't agree more. As I stared at Opal’s smiling face, her pale blonde hair and bright blue eyes, I wished I had been able to watch Jimin instead. She was cold and impassive even with a large, perfectly white grin that took up most of her face. In fact, I found her quite boring outside of the water. No flair or features that set her apart. Just a tall, well-built blonde with a nice smile. Ozzie would have to work hard to make her memorable.
“Simmons did well,” I yawned. “It’s getting late, though, and I have work in the morning.”
The goodbyes were quick, and Dani made me promise to take her roller skating soon. There was a girl at school making fun of her and she wanted her “super cool” and “famous” aunt to tell them off. We all laughed, and I told her we could go this weekend after gymnastics practice. 
My drive home was uneventful. It was already dark out, something that bothered me more than I would ever admit out loud, and I never turned on the radio. I preferred to drive in absolute silence, eyes and ears glued to the road. I had only started talking on the phone recently.
I was much worse after the accident. I refused to get inside of a car for weeks and if I did, I was a mess. No one was allowed to be a distracted driver either. No radio, no phone, no conversations. Nothing. Jin had been the default chauffeur during that time and put up with my anxiety better than the others.
It was close to a year before I tried to sit in the front seat again. Another five before I got behind the wheel. For hours I would sit in the garage with my hands on the steering wheel staring off into the distance. I was still in a wheelchair for most of my daily activities and a very obvious limp made me too self-conscious to be seen. Isolating was easy. Keeping the others away was more difficult.
My drives started with me just backing out of the driveway. I went around the block a few weeks later, hands shaking and Andy trying her best to soothe me in the passenger seat. I did not drive past the Whole Foods two minutes away from my house until after the second year. Things were easier after I ditched the wheelchair and got more open to the idea of therapy.
Moving out of Denver was the best decision I ever made, the Springs were easier to drive in and the traffic was not as awful. Andrea and Jin bought in Black Forest once I was settled in Briargate, so loneliness was never an option.
Matilda almost moved in after the housewarming party Andy threw for me. She said it was far too big for one person and the neighborhood was to die for. I laughed her off at the time not really wanting to admit how nice it sounded.
Nestled in Fairfax, my house was a beautiful piece of architecture. The striking brick and wood front exterior provided a warm welcome, with teal trimmings bringing a fresh feeling to the otherwise plain color scheme. With five bedrooms and four bathrooms, I dreamed of the day I was able to fill them all. A dream that I hoped would come before I hit 35.
 Pulling up to the house, I waved to Chika next door. The old woman raised her hand, still nursing a large mug of what I assumed to be tea and smiled. They were lovely people and we often helped one another out whenever we could. Chika liked to bring over food if she cooked and I paid my landscapers to keep with their lawn.
“Late night?” Chika called out from her front porch. 
“Went to a friend’s house,” I replied.
“Good,” She meant it. “Glad to see you getting out of the house.”
I smiled but was not sure how well she could see my face in the dark.
“Yeah. Night, Chika.”
“Night, Y/N.”
I showered quickly and sipped on a cup of chamomile tea before heading off to bed. After taking my night medications, one to force myself to sleep while the other blocked the never-ending nightmares, I climbed into bed. I was able to play a single game of solitaire before they both kicked in. I fell asleep with the sound of gentle rain humming in the background.
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“Let’s go, guys!” I yelled, blowing my whistle.
The twelve boys waited, their small talk coming to an abrupt end. We had just finished warming up and I allowed all of them a short water break. I was a huge advocate for rest periods. No one needed to pull a muscle or fatigue early due to over working. I had a 2800-yard routine prepared, 800 of those done during our warm-ups, and the rest divided between our main set and cooldowns.
Jordan, our captain, was smiling happily. He was such an excited kid, and his positivity was contagious. While some of the boys were disappointed when I first chose him to replace our old captain after his graduation, I was sure his spirit would do everyone some good. It did not take long for the others to come around and he was beloved.
“Alright, so we have a 1600 main set. In between each of our reps, we will be doing a switch out of easy breast and backstrokes. Clear?”
“Crystal!” They all replied in unison.
“Alright. That's what I like to hear,” Flipping through my clipboard was more for show than anything. I used to rely on it heavily when I first started teaching since brain damage messed with my short-term memory, but I had been doing this long enough to know what was happening. Now it was just a way for me to write notes about their performances. “We’re starting with a 4x100 with 15-second rest; the first 25 butterfly. 3x100 with 10-second rest; again, first 25 butterfly. Following?”
No questions were asked, and a few guys voiced they were good for me to keep going.
“Good. Then we have a 2x100 with 5-second rest. First 25?”
“Butterfly,” Jordan replied.
“Thank you, Abbot. Okay, and we’re finishing up with 8x50 freestyle. Fast and easy.”
All twelve of them began to prepare to take their mark. One by one they stood on their blocks and waited for me to make the call. I admired them all for a moment. You could see the difference in each one of them. Those who were confident stood tall, their shoulders squared, and head held high. Newcomers were still figuring out their place on the team but were eager to prove themselves. Two of them would be leaving us this year, Gabriel and Marcus, and neither one of them were continuing to swim after graduation. It was a sad thought, but I was happy with how they carried themselves. They had both come a long way.
“Take your mark,” My voice echoed. Each boy got into their starting position as I watched them like a hawk. One of the freshmen, Phineas, needed major work on his form. I would talk to Jordan about it. Grabbing hold of my stopwatch, I took a deep breath. “Go!”
Marcus was the first in, like always, and I ignored him. I knew he was fully capable of taking care of himself. Phineas was the weakest link in my chain right now. He was struggling, his arms growing tired and his speed nonexistent. The other freshmen, Tobias, or as the guys called him, Twig, was not much better. He had more strength, but I chopped that up to his size. I would need to really start working some more beginner drills to get them in shape. Jordan and Gabriel would be more than happy to give up a Saturday or two to help out. 
Marcus was the first one finished and I marked his time. Still a tenth of a second faster than Jordan. After Jordan came Gabriel and then Joseph and Anthony. I was disappointed in Jett’s time, but I would invite him to the weekend practices with the others. He needed some foot and hip exercises. Twig came in before Phineas, but every other boy was already out of the water by the time they made it back. Phineas was visibly upset, and I made a note to pull him to the side after practice to cheer him up. 
Practices typically lasted two hours and the boys swam hard. Phineas did, in fact, perk up after I told him I was noticing tons of improvements in his performance. Twig just seemed happy he was not the worst guy in the water. After talking it out with Jordan, we decided on a good weekend time for extra practices, and I stayed behind to print off a poster and signup sheets for the rest of the boys. I had a feeling almost everyone except Marcus would show. He had a part-time job now and his weekends were full. 
Sitting in my office, I poured over my observations and timecards. With a team this large I should have an extra set of hands to help with timing. I sent an email to the principal asking about helpers and got back to the nitty gritty. 
All of them could work on something. Phineas might have needed the most work, Twig not far behind him, but my most seasoned swimmers had room for improvement. Jett was still struggling with maximizing propulsion, Anthony and Milo needed to get better water balance, and Gabriel’s pull could be better. Even my best swimmers, Jordan and Marcus, could use a bit of refinement in technique. It was nitpicking but they were too talented to give up on their potential.
It was close to nine when my phone began to ring. I knew it could not be any of my usual calls. Andy was working nights this week and Jin was fast asleep at home with Dani. Minho was in bed by eight, Matilda would never bother me this late, and Hoseok hated phone calls. Checking the caller ID, I was shocked to see Ozzie’s name.
“Hello?” I answered tentatively, afraid he might have called me by accident.
“Otter,” Ozzie greeted me happily. He seemed so delighted that I answered, I smiled even though I hated the nickname. “How’s life going?”
I chuckled, “Rockin’ and rollin’. Saw your girl last night. Looks great, Oz.”
“Appreciate it,” He was so dismissive of it I became interested. This was not a catch-up phone call or else he might have hooked onto the bait. My stomach twisted in anticipation. If it was not for pleasantries, then it was for work and that was something to be excited about. “Still teaching high school?”
“Mhm,” I fiddled with my pencil, papers forgotten. “My boys team is strong. I only have three girls that signed up so we’re just training during P.E. and hoping some more join.”
We chatted a bit more about the team. The longer it went on the more knots I had. Oswald was fishing for something, and I wanted to figure out what. After telling him about Phineas, I asked what the random call was about.
“Always cutting to the chase,” He joked.
I did not laugh.
“Alright, you caught me,” Ozzie sighed. “Look, the Olympic team is looking for another assistant coach and your name came up a few times.”
My mouth went dry. I had heard about Tiara Marsh leaving to focus on her family. She had a baby and stepped down a few months after coming back from maternity leave. I respected the decision and messaged her my congratulations. Ozzie had taken the lead coach position three years ago with Todd Packer as his partner. The other assistant, Drew Jones, was a sweet girl from what I heard and working with her would be a dream. 
Still, it was an impossible task. Trying to imagine myself on the sidelines, coaching the next big names in sporting history with a massive squad behind me made my stomach queasy. I doubt any of them respected me. My leg was ruined, my career burned out just as quickly as it started, and I never had the chance to reach my peak. Now I am a 30-year-old washed up recluse. Just thinking about the media frenzy made my breathing get a little heavier. 
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Oz,” I murmured.
“I told them you wouldn’t go for it,” He replied, unsurprised. “They’re going to approach Storm Kline instead.”
“Oh,” Now I was confused. “Why’d you bring it up then?”
“Because I got to thinking,” I braced myself. Ozzie was known for his big, bright, dumb, impulsive ideas. “I knew the Olympics would be asking too much of you. Cameras and interviews are the last thing you want after the fucking circus you went through last time.”
That was an understatement. Circus did not even begin to describe the absolute hell the media put me through after the accident. So many speculations and insensitive remarks managed to ruin any peace I could have gotten during that time.
While I was in a coma, no one knowing if I would ever wake up again, the news thought it wise to harass my friends and family. My old coach, Victor Stanley, was assaulted whenever he left the hospital. When news got out that Namjoon was pulled off life support, his mother and father were so sick and tired of people parked outside their house they packed up and moved away before I even woke up. I wanted nothing to do with the media after that.
“It’s a little different but I think you’d be a great fit for the job,” Ozzie continued. “One of my boys, Jimin Park, is in need of a personal coach. His mom is sick and he’s wanting to stay in Michigan for as long as he can before coming out to the Springs to start training for Paris.
“I almost called Jung, but I don’t think the two of them would get along well enough for this to work. You’re the only person I know I can trust with him, and from what I’m hearing, you’re one hell of a coach already.”
This was somehow even more nerve wracking than the assistant position. I had never trained one-on-one before, at least, not long term. I was sure I could do it, but a high schooler was very different from an Olympic athlete relying on me to keep him in shape for the season. 
“What happened to Hamilton?” I asked, still unable to wrap my head around the situation. “I thought he was Park’s personal trainer.”
“He was but the two fell out when Jimin decided to stay in Michigan. You know how Matt is.”
That I did. Matthew Hamilton was a massive asshole, and that was putting it lightly. He was one of the best trainers around and got results which was why he still had a job despite his rotten attitude. I had the misfortune of running into him quite a few times over the years and my distaste only grew with each passing. I could imagine that conversation not going over particularly well.
“But what about my team?” I asked, staring at my desk. All of my plans and strategies were mapped out and I was ready to put them to use. My boys were counting on me and leaving them felt wrong. “I don’t want to leave them high and dry, Oz.”
“Ask Hoseok to cover for you,” I rolled my eyes at his blase attitude.
“This is my team.”
“And this is Jimin Park.”
I hated that I understood where he was coming from. Most of my boys would never go off to swim professionally and their skill set was not on par with anyone out right now. They were not committed to the strict regime that would take and I did not get paid well enough to justify the extra hours. Jimin, however, would pay me extremely well and I would get that experience under my belt. I might even learn a few new things to add to my own drills.
“Give me a few days to think about it,” I finally conceded. “And set up a phone call, or meeting, or something with the kid. Need to make sure we’re on the same page before we waste one another’s time.”
Ozzie laughed, “I think you’ll get along just fine, but sure. I think he’d appreciate the gesture.”
Nothing of much importance was said after that. We hung up with promises of talking soon and then I was alone once more. My office was still just as messy and swamped with paperwork as it had been before, but it all looked different. It felt like I was already gone, and a deep homesickness settled in my chest. I stared at the papers in front of me and sighed before shooting a text to Hoseok.
As I expected, everyone had told me to jump at the opportunity. Hoseok even said if I didn’t, I would be the biggest idiot he had ever met. Matilda asked if she could come (I told her no), and Dani just seemed bummed that we could not hang out anymore. Andy and Jin were the most supportive of the situation while Minho the most cautious. He was worried about the media catching wind of something and causing a frenzy. After Matila pointed out how old news I was, I felt a little less afraid of that possibility even if it was a hit to my ego.
Ozzie seemed pumped when I told him I was open to the idea if Jimin and I seemed to mesh well. I was firm in my decision to talk to him before making any concrete plans, and from what Ozzie told me, my future student was extremely receptive to the idea. I also learned that Opal was jealous of her fellow Olympian, but I tried not to let that puff up my chest. 
That was why I was sitting in my home office, hair nicely styled and a light layer of makeup on waiting for Jimin to join our Zoom call. I wore blue since Ozzie said it was his favorite color, but the material was slowly driving me insane. While the color was nice, deep blue and sparkled whenever the light hit it, it was scratchy and irritated the skin around my chest and shoulders. I almost got up to change but a small icon with the letters ‘JP’ in the center popped up before I could.
“Hello?” A soft voice called out.
“Hey,” I replied with an awkward wave. “Can you see me?”
“Yeah, can you see me?”
I shook my head, “Just your icon.”
Cursing under his breath, Jimin apologized for the tech issues. I adored how nice he was to listen to. It was unique, gentle and raspy, but also feminine in its softness. There was no bass or hardness, every sound and syllable light and airy with self-depreciating laughter after every insult he threw at himself. Apparently, Jimin was not great with technology and always had a difficult time with cyber meetings.
“This is fine with me,” I tried to reassure him. “I don’t need to see your face to talk.”
“No,” He agreed, “But it’s a little awkward for you to have your camera on and mine’s off.”
I could hear him clicking around. “I’ll turn mine off, too, if that helps.”
He shut that down immediately and continued clicking and typing. After a few more minutes, he found his problem. Then the icon was gone and there he was.
His face was round, his cheeks plump, and chin soft. The first thing I noticed about him was his lips. They were rounded and plump like a baby duck with a soft, heart shaped cupid’s bow that led up a small, button nose. Everything about his face was soft except his eyes which were almond shaped and flicked outwards like a cat’s. His hair was pitch black and parted down the middle, framing his face and making his pale skin look like snow. When he caught a glimpse of himself in the camera a large smile took over his face and I felt the wind get knocked out of me. 
“Can you see me?” He asked.
I nodded, “Yeah, I think we’re in the clear.”
Neither one of us knew what to say for a moment. He swirled around in his chair in search of his water bottle. He stood up, excusing himself for a moment. He was also wearing a blue shirt, a pair of black pants, and seemed just as nervous as I did. He left the room while I sat and thought about him.
There was one word to describe Jimin: pretty. His soft lines and tiny waist made him look so much smaller than I had imagined him. All of the years seeing him on the tv did nothing to compare to watching him walk around a little room in his home. Without a cap and goggles, Jimin was angelic, and I felt uneasy. How was I supposed to work with someone I found this attractive?
“Sorry,” He was back now, a large Yeti cup in hand. “I should’ve made sure I had this already.”
“No worries. I’m not in any rush.”
He sat back down, and I finally noticed the large oval necklace he was wearing. I did not know what it could mean to him, but I had seen him with it a few times at events. It was simple and silver, no gem in the center of the pendant, and sat directly over his heart. He took a sip from his cup, snapping me back to action.
“How’s your mother doing?” I asked. “Ozzie told me she wasn’t well.”
His expression saddened me, and I hated that I brought it up. I knew how much I did not enjoy talking about Namjoon’s death, and while his mother was still alive, she was not well. Unfortunately, I could not take the question back.
“I’m not sure how much you know,” He started, leaning back in the leather computer chair. “She has melanoma and isn’t doing chemotherapy anymore. I’m staying in Michigan so I can spend as much time with her as possible.”
My heart ached for him and his family. Cancer had a reputation for ripping families apart and I could only imagine how this was affecting the young swimmer. My own grief was long and drawn out, guilt and shame hanging over my head for years before I was finally able to let it go, but the death itself was swift. Joon was dead and buried before I woke up from the coma, but I could recall every detail of that hospital room when Victor told me what happened. I hated to think about watching the life slip from him, knowing he would die, and knowing there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.
“I understand. I’m really sorry to hear that.”
I knew it was inadequate, but I did not know this man well enough to say my thoughts out loud. Maybe later, after a few weeks of training together, I could get the courage to let him know I would be there if he needed someone to talk to. I knew all about navigating grief and I would happily help him stay motivated through this horrible, tragic time. Jimin stayed quiet so I took it upon myself to get the ball rolling again.
“I know you’re going through a difficult time right now, and I just want you to know that I get it and I see you. If we work together, I will make sure your mental health comes first. Whatever you need, whatever your family needs, will always come before getting in the pool.
“You were working with Hamilton before this, and whatever happened between you two- I don’t know, that’s none of my business, but I can promise you I will try my best to make sure our professional relationship doesn’t reach that point. Just tell me what’s up and I’ll make it work.”
Jimin smiled a small, sad smile that paled in comparison to that blinding show of teeth earlier. My eyes could not help their roaming and I felt guilty. There was a chance we would be working together, and I could not feel this way about him if that time came. I could only hope that if we did decide to move forward with this arrangement, any affections I could have for him would get buried. I would have to talk to Hoseok about this.
“I have to take her to appointments once a week,” He replied, voice small and eyes staring at something off camera. “She’s not getting her chemo anymore but still goes to see her doctor often to manage symptoms as best she can. She also has a dance class every Sunday morning and I will be going with her.”
I nodded, “I can live with that. As long as you’re still putting in work you can take your mom anywhere.”
He took a deep breath and finally looked at the camera again. The vulnerability I found there took me off guard. Jimin must be someone who wears their emotions on their sleeve, and I would have to learn to nurture that. Namjoon always told me I needed to work on being more sensitive to others, a skill I had yet to master. 
“Matt didn’t like how much time I spent out of the pool. I understand where he’s coming from but I’m hoping we can come up with a training schedule that works well for the both of us. I feel bad enough pulling you away from your life, and I don’t want my personal shit to bleed into what you’re going through.”
It was a kind gesture, one I appreciated, but he needed to get over it. I told him in so many words that I was happy to help him.
“Trust me,” I said. “If I didn’t want to do this then we wouldn’t be talking.”
Jimin seemed to like my bluntness and I was fond of his over-analytical anxiety. The way he fidgeted reminded me of Namjoon, his forward and direct confrontation of his emotions and needs so strikingly similar it made it nearly impossible for me to dislike him. I don’t think a person alive could dislike this man. 
“I can be in Ann Arbor next week,” Jimin had gone on another rant about inconveniencing me and I shut it down. “Everything here is already squared away. We can discuss it more later, how does that sound?”
He smiled wearily, his nerves causing him to squirm in his seat. 
“I’m really looking forward to working with you, Y/N.”
I hoped my expression looked as sincere as I felt, “I’ll take care of you, kiddo.”
Pulling a face, Jimin laughed heartily. Triumphant, I smiled brazenly, his laughter contagious. I made a note to pull out a few age jokes now and then if it meant making him smile like that. 
“I’m an adult man, I’ll have you know,” He was still laughing.
“Could’ve fooled me,” I teased.
“We’re going to get along just fine,” He seemed more confident than ever, and it warmed my heart. “Let me know when you’re expected to get here. Do you have my number?”
We exchanged our contact details. After days of talking over email, I finally found a smiley face emoji in my notifications, a Michigan area code attached. Saving his number, I replied with the old woman emoji earning myself another laugh. 
“Talk to you later, Park.”
“See you, coach.”
I left the meeting, my chest much lighter after talking to him. He was a sweet man and not half bad to look at. I was a few years older but not disgustingly so, and he was more than available from the sound of things. Realizing the direction my thoughts were going in, I stood up from the chair to start writing out some drills and scheduling prototypes. Before I could get out of the door, however, my phone vibrated in my hand.
Jimin: 👶
I did not respond until I had my flight booked.
Me: I’m flying in on Tuesday. Know a good place to stay?
He replied a few minutes later.
Jimin: Do you need a lot of space?
Me: Not really
Jimin: One of my neighbors has their mother-in-law suite for rent. I could probably cut you a good deal with them.
I smiled. He really was a sweetheart. 
Me: Thank you. And no deals. I can pay for myself.
Jimin: My mother would be very upset if I didn’t at least try.
Jimin: I was raised to respect the elderly.
I laughed out loud, thoroughly amused. I had a feeling he was testing the waters after I poked fun at him earlier. Jimin was probably used to the stick stuck up Hamilton’s ass. He was in for a treat. At the pool I was cool and collected but I could cut up with the best of them. 
Me: Sorry, couldn’t hear you over the sound of my hip breaking
I was practically giddy with excitement waiting for his response. It had been such a long time since someone joked around with me like this. Hoseok tried but he was awful at taking a joke, so I stopped poking the bear. It was refreshing and all too familiar. 
Jimin: I’ll get you one of those life alerts just in case.
Was he flirting with me? Did I care? Shrugging, I went along with it. I would remain strictly professional while we worked together, but if things developed after that I would let them. Happily. I barely knew this guy, but I remember this feeling. It was the first time since Joon’s death that it showed itself to me and I wanted to hold onto it.
First work then play, I told myself. 
Who knows? This little bit of infatuation could fade just as quickly as it came, and I would leave Ann Arbor with a new friend instead. Might even be able to score a steady job with the kid if things worked out. My life in Colorado would remain untouched, my friends happily accepting a new kid in the group when he came to visit, and my house just as bare and empty as it always had been. The years continuing to pass me by.
I tried not to think about why that thought made me want to cry.
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“I told you I’m fine,” I sighed into the phone, waiting at the baggage claim for my things. “You’re in rare form today.”
Andrea laughed, the sound slightly hysterical and I winced. That was the wrong thing to say, but she was driving me insane. I had traveled around the world multiple times, and she was acting like Michigan was going to kill me.
“Well excuse me for worrying,” Andy bit back, her tone clipped and harsh.
“I’m sorry,” I heaved one of my bags off the conveyor belt. “I know you’re just looking out for me, but I promise you I’m fine Andrea. You’ll be my first phone call if that changes.”
The other bag finally popped up and I quickly snatched it. Slinging the large duffle bag over my shoulder, I adjusted it until it rested comfortably on my shoulders. Lifting the handlebar off my large suitcase, I drug it behind me while I followed the signs for the exit. Jimin said he arranged for someone to pick me up but did not specify who. He was busy with a few interviews this morning and could not get me himself. He had been very disappointed about it.
“I know I’m nagging,” Andy groaned. “Scratch that. I’m acting like a total helicopter parent.”
I laughed, “Your husband had been even worse. The man tried to book me a charter flight because he was worried about my leg in an airport. What the fuck does that even mean?”
Everyone had been super happy for me, especially my team. Those boys almost cried when I told them who I was helping out and Jordan begged me to bring him back something autographed. None of them seemed as familiar with my own background but I was fine with that. All of them took to Hoseok rather well, except for Marcus who made me swear to come back before school let out. I did not tell them I was planning to make monthly trips to give Jimin some space with his mom. I was sure that surprise would go over very, very well.
Despite his indifference when I was first talking about the job, Seokjin became an overprotective dad as soon as I made him aware my flights were booked. He was quick to cancel them and put in a few calls of his own. Jin was an operations manager for Delta airlines and knew plenty of pilots. He was able to get me a plane to land in Willow Run out in Ypsilanti, but I quickly intervened and told him a normal flight was perfect. I rebooked my tickets and flew into Detroit Metro at 10 am.
Andy snorted, “He means well.”
It was snowing in Michigan, and I was finally hit with the realization that I would be seeing far more of it here than I ever did back in Colorado. It was only mid-September, so it was still light and melted away quickly. I would have to ask Jimin if it stayed this calm into December, but I had a feeling things would pick up by late November. 
It was a very cold morning in Detroit, and I was excited to get into a heated car. Getting off the phone with Andy, I quickly sent Jimin a quick text message letting him know I was outside and looking for my ride. A loud honk made my jump, almost dropping my phone in the process.
Pulled up at the curb was a navy-blue Volkswagen Beetle. I could tell from its body that it was an older model, and it was a convertible. Sitting behind the wheel was a little old lady, a pair of gardening gloves on her hands and a pair of large, hexagon sunglasses taking up most of her face. Her face was familiar, and it hit me. Sitting behind that wheel was Jimin’s mother. 
She smiled at me and waved, beckoning me closer to the little car. I forced myself to smile back. My nerves made it feel damn near impossible, but I managed. Opening the door, I did not know where to put my things. The backseat was so small.
“There’s a lever on that side that’ll push it up. You should be able to get everything to fit if you try hard enough.”
Fumbling around, I finally found the little handle and pulled up. The seat lurched forward, folding in on itself, and I clumsily shoved my suitcase into the backseat. It smelled like stale cigarettes and fake pine, but when you had a car this old it usually had history. I was excited to pick up my new car from the dealership. My Porsche already had a difficult time driving around Colorado and I did not think it would survive the heavy winters in Michigan, so I decided to leave it home and get an Altima. I had the money and could easily get rid of it. Tilly had been talking about needing an upgrade. 
Finally managing to get both bags into the backseat, I put the seat back and got into the car. Closing the door, I sighed in content. The heaters were at full blast and pointed directly at my cold face. Buckling my seatbelt, I leaned back and tried to relax after the long day of flying. Jimin’s mother pulled off the curb.
“It’s cold out there,” She laughed, her voice just as sickeningly sweet as her son’s. “Glad you were able to make it okay.”
I nodded, “I’m surprised to see it snowing so early. We don’t usually get anything until closer to Thanksgiving.”
“Colorado, right?” I could hear a faint accent and I remembered that Jimin was first-generation Korean American. Both of his parents moved to the states before he and his brother were born. Media outlets loved talking about it, but I was not sure how much he enjoyed discussing his personal life. While he came off as a sweet and mild-mannered man, he kept his personal life private. “I’ve heard it’s very pretty.”
“It is. Too expensive, but very, very pretty.”
Then she was fiddling around with the radio, and I finally cracked a genuine smile. I was not sure how much work had been done on her car, but I was positive the sound system had been completely redone. A brand-new radio, complete with a touch screen and Bluetooth, lit up at the touch of her fingers. A man’s voice serenaded us through the updated speakers, and I was in awe at how beautiful it sounded. I assumed he was speaking Korean and Jimin’s mother sang along fluently. 
“What’s your name again?” She asked once the song was over. Another, more upbeat song started, and she increased the volume. “Jimin told me but I’m horrible with that sort of thing. I’m Na-Yeon, but Audrey works if it’s easier for you.”
I pulled a face, “Audrey?”
“It’s my American name. It’s easier for people to pronounce and more convenient. All of us have one. Jimin’s is Christian.”
It was odd to think about. A name that was mine but not mine. Christian did not suit Jimin, but I could imagine growing up with a name that other people made fun of would be difficult. Maybe even impossible. Still, I did not feel comfortable calling the woman Audrey. She did not seem to particularly care for the name and I did not want to alienate myself from their circle for convenience's sake.
Namjoon’s mother had been similar to Na-Yeon, always afraid her culture and customs would make me uncomfortable or burdened, but I managed to calm her fears and reassure her after years of showing up to Chuseok with a smile on my face and food in my hands.
“I like Na-Yeon,” I finally replied, voice small. “It’s nice. I’m Y/N.”
“I like Y/N,” She echoed back to me, making me grin. “It’s nice.”
It was a long drive filled with K-pop, ballads, and sporadic conversation. Na-Yeon was very funny. She sang along to every song, dancing as she went, and calling on me to sing alone. Of course, I could not speak Korean very well and hummed the melodies instead, but it appeased her. When she did speak to me it was to ask me questions about myself. 
“You’re that swimmer, aren’t you?” She asked, sparing me a look once we stopped at a redlight. “The one everyone’s trying to beat.”
I shook my head, “At one time, sure, but not anymore. I’m retired.”
Squinting her eyes at me, Na-Yeon pursed her lips. 
“We used to watch you. Haru called you a mermaid.”
 That was not too much of a shock. Jimin was swimming at that time. While I am a few years older than him, he would have been in middle school when I went to my first Olympics. He had told me he joined the swim team the year before. He said that watching Michael Phelps win 6 gold medals changed his life forever, and I could not help but agree with him. I had a huge amount of respect for my fellow Olympian and wished him well in his retirement. What shocked me the most was the mention of Jimin’s little brother. The dead brother.
“That’s sweet,” I did not know what to say. “I felt like a mermaid back then. I’m not that good anymore but I still like to swim sometimes.”
“You were in an accident,” It was not a question. “We saw it all over the news. Couldn’t believe all of those people harassing your family like that. So sorry for your loss.”
It was strange to talk about it again. I appreciated her keeping it vague. I had gone through a tremendous amount of change and growth since then, but it was nice to hear someone else validate how crazy the media frenzy was. I would not wish it upon anyone, and I was happy her family was allowed to grieve in peace. Neither Namjoon’s nor my own were allowed that luxury.
“Thank you,” I replied. “I’m sorry about Haru. I can’t imagine what your family went through.”
She smiled sadly, “I think you can.”
We did not talk much after that. The music still played, Na-Yeon still sang, and I still hummed, but we did not ask any more questions. Neither one of us wanted to bring up those hurt feelings. It was not until we turned down a long, empty road that I realized I had yet to ask her about her cancer. 
“Are you feeling okay?” I asked.
“As good as I can,” She breathed. “My boys are both worriers so don’t take anything they say to heart. Bunch of hypochondriacs.”
And even though I laughed along with her, I knew that she was lying. They were not overreacting. She was sick, refusing treatments, and letting herself die. Anyone would be worried about her. Na-Yeon must dislike being taken care of. Well, I thought she would need to get used to it. I loved spoiling others. 
“Eloise and the kids must be here,” She muttered to herself, pulling to a short driveway. 
I did not know who Eloise was, but I would soon find that out. There were two cars parked out front. One was a simple, black Tahoe with a brightly colored steering wheel cover. The other was another vintage model. Painted a pretty light, muted green the truck was in pristine condition. It was an old Ford, the branding written across the tailgate, and a spare tire was bolted to the side. I asked Na-Yeon about it and she smiled happily.
“It’s Jimin’s,” I felt my heart rate increase. “He must’ve gotten back. Pretty thing, huh?”
I nodded, not really paying attention to the truck anymore. I was about to meet Jimin for the first time and my nerves were taking over. I knew how much his looks affected me over video chat and I was afraid I would not be able to control my facial expressions in person. I was resolute not to act on whatever attraction I may have felt toward him. My professionalism would not allow it. It did not mean, however, that I wanted to discuss it with Jimin at any point. It would make him uncomfortable and affect our working environment. 
“Keep your bags in the car,” Na-Yeon told me. “Jimin’s going to take you over to meet the Andersons this afternoon.”
Walking up to the house, I was first struck by two things. The main one being the impressive teal it was painted and the other the loud talking and laughter coming from inside. It was odd. Thinking about my own parents I knew we had never been so happy. Mom had left when I was so young that I could hardly remember her, but I could recall the screaming and shouting. Dad was quiet after she left, spent most of his time locked away in the garage watching sports channels and leaving me to my own devices. 
When I started swimming it helped for a time, but when I was old enough to leave, we spoke two or three times a year. After he met Danielle, his new wife, he stopped reaching out altogether. The accident had spooked him enough to warrant holiday and birthday calls for a time, but when he had another baby those slowly faded away. My half-sister and I had never met, Danielle did not like acknowledging that my dad had a child with another woman, and it seemed as though my dad was fine with how things turned out. I dealt with it.
The laughing echoed through the house, and I could hear loud foot-steps pitter pattering on the tile floors. The house smelled heavily of kimchi and lemons making my heart ache. Joon and I used to keep the windows open for days after his mother came over to make kimchi with him. We would squat on the floor for hours, laughing and talking. I missed those days more than I realized and I smiled involuntarily. For the first time in years, it felt like coming home.
“Sorry about the smell,” Na-Yeon whispered to me. 
I shook my head and took my shoes off. “I love kimchi.”
She smiled brightly, her shoulders immediately relaxing. I was glad I had spent so much time with Namjoon and his family. Na-Yeon was someone who wanted to make others feel more comfortable even if it put her own peace at risk, but I would never ask her to change her routine for me. I loved learning about other people and her little house brought me more happiness than I thought possible. 
“Sounds like we have company!”
A short, stocky man came into the living room. He was wearing a white polo shirt and khaki shorts; his hair was very short with silver streaks starting to take over the once very black strands. Catching sight of me he smiled. 
“You must be Y/N,” The man said. “I’m James.”
His accent was much thicker than Na-Yeon’s and he introduced himself in his English name. He seemed much happier about it than his wife did, and I decided to go along with it. If he wanted me to call him James, then I would.
“Nice to meet you,” I replied, giving him a small bow.
His smile got even bigger somehow, and he returned the gesture. Na-Yeon chuckled beside me and started to speak to her husband in Korean. I picked up a few words and deduced that he was supposed to make sure I was going to get a nice lunch, and she wanted to know if he had taken care of it. He nodded and told her he had.
“Hungry?” James asked, Na-Yeon already disappearing into the house.
“Yes,” I quickly followed behind him.
“I made jjigae,” He frowned. “I can’t say it in English. Sorry.”
The house was small and warmly lit. Cream tile flooring, exposed wood beams, and white walls. Whatever loud conversation they had been having before I got here had died down, but the footsteps did not. I could hear children giggling somewhere in the little home and my curiosity peaked. I did not think they were Na-Yeon and James’s.
“I want to say it’s soup,” I kept my voice down not wanting to make him feel awkward. “Or stew, but I don’t think it matters that much.”
“What’s the difference?” James asked, just as amused as his wife at my vague knowledge of Korean words. “Soup and stew the same, no?”
I shrugged, “I have no clue. I’m a miserable cook.”
That made James laugh. We passed all of the rooms in the house, the kitchen, living room, and dining room all in the back of the house. As we passed the second room to the left, James said it had been Haru’s photography studio before he passed away, but they ended up converting it once Eloise gave birth. He did not say it out loud, but I had gathered the kids running around had been their youngest son’s. I did not know how old Haru had been when he died, but it was far too young to be having children. I was 31 and still felt ill equipped for the job. 
It was a small kitchen with very simple and plain colors. The countertops were obviously laminate, but someone had taken the time to stick on a marble patterning to make it look nicer. Black appliances clashed with the chestnut cabinets. The tiles were no longer cream but hideous black and white checker printed that clashed heavily against the olive-green backsplash. While the rest of the house seemed to go through renovations at some point, I had a feeling the kitchen remained largely untouched. 
Sitting at a small table on the other side of the room were Na-Yeon, Jimin, and a young woman. She was a cute girl, long brown hair and blue eyes, a large number of freckles across her cheeks. Her outfit was very modest, a pair of flowy cream pants and an equally flowy olive shirt. Her hair was tied back with a ribbon that matched her pants, and taking a closer look at her, she wore no makeup. A classic girl next door.
“Come sit,” Na-Yeon waved me over, her voice showing no room for argument. “Hyun-Soo is in charge of lunch.”
I was only briefly confused, the name completely unfamiliar, but by the time I sat down I was sure she was talking about James. It made sense for her to call him by his Korean name, and since I had shown no qualms about using their proper names, she saw no need to bring them up herself. 
“Nice to finally meet you,” Jimin’s sweet voice reached me, and I smiled at the sound. “I hope getting here wasn’t too bad.”
He reached out to me, and I happily took his hand in my own. The skin was soft, perfectly smooth, and warm. It was over far too quickly but my displeasure was easily hidden. Andrea always complained about my poker face and how difficult it was to get past it. She said it was too good and thus refused to ever play poker with me again. 
“It was nice,” I meant it. Na-Yeon was wonderful company. 
“Hope the concert was nice.”
That made me and Eloise laugh. Na-Yeon smacked Jimin’s arm playfully, unable to keep the smile off her face, and the two began to bicker. Having them in the same room highlighted the differences I hadn't noticed before. Jimin’s nose was closer to his father’s, his eyes, too, and both of them had a slight lisp. Na-Yeon’s teeth were perfectly white and straight while one of Jimin’s front teeth was slightly chipped. Jimin had a dimple; his mother had none. Their English soon turned to digs in Korean and I could no longer follow. A few words here and there but nothing substantial. James joined them.
“Hi,” Eloise shyly greeted me, obviously used to being left out of conversations.
“Hey,” I replied lamely. “Eloise?”
She nodded, “Cam and Harper are playing but you’ll meet them in a bit.”
I nodded along and cemented the names into memory. It would look bad if I forgot them and kids had an ability to remember the worst things about a person. I did not want them to dislike me this quickly. Their giggles and feet were still going, and I suspected they had their own rooms on top of the little playroom in the hall.
“What do you do for work?” I asked Eloise, hoping my attempts at small talk were going over well. The other three were still chatting and I stopped paying attention long enough to be completely lost. Their dialect was different from Namjoon’s family, and I gave up entirely once they switched in and out of it with ease. 
“I’m taking over Audrey’s restaurant,” Eloise, it seemed, preferred to use their American names. I wondered if she called Jimin ‘Christian.’ I really did not like the name for him. Not at all. “We used to be co-owners but she’s preparing for…” Eloise’s eyebrows scrunched together as she struggled to come up with a way to voice her thoughts, “her next steps. You know what I mean?”
I nodded. It was so easy to forget why I was really here when Na-Yeon was so full of life. She laughed and joked easily, sang off-key in the car without a care in the world, and called the shots at home. I had hardly noticed any sickness, but I knew better. I already figured out she hated being cared for and our trip in the car could have taken a lot of her. More than I realized.
Wanting to change the subject, I asked about the kids. Eloise was more than happy to talk about her little ones. Cameron and Harper were twins, names that she had originally been very against but when she lost Tony (Haru preferred his American name, Anthony, and all of his closest friends called him Tony), her opinions changed. Harper was the bigger, older baby, while her brother needed to stay in the NICU for a few days after birth due to his weight. They were joined at the hip and rarely seen without the other, something Eloise was happy about given she was usually too busy to spend as much time with them as she would have liked.
“How old are they?” I asked.
“Almost 4.”
Jimin was 19 then. I shuddered to think about how old Haru was, or Eloise for that matter when they became parents. When I was their age, I had been at the top of my game, though not what I would call my prime. If I had gotten pregnant my career would not have been over, but meeting Joon never would have happened. That was a travesty regardless of how things turned out. Trying to picture a life without him touching it made me physically ill and so I pushed any of those thoughts away.
Cam and Harper came out of their room when dinner was ready. They were both very cute, loud, and dressed identically. Harper’s hair was braided down her back while Cam’s was in a bowl cut, and I laughed every time the little girl made a big show about her sparkly red shoes.
James made a very spicy fish stew. It was delicious, so salty and hot, but I needed multiple glasses of water as I ate. He used red snapper adding a sweet, nutty flavor to the otherwise savory dish and I loved the zucchini. Like many Korean meals there was an array of side dishes surrounding the large pot of stew. Tonight was braised potatoes, steamed eggplant, a radish salad, and, of course, kimchi. A small bowl of rice was given to all of us to eat the stew with and the rice cooker was filled if any of us wanted more. 
The Parks were a lovely family. Jimin was quiet and did not talk to me much but his mother more than made up for his silence. After getting all of the details about my coaching job she moved on to my life back in Colorado. We talked about my friends and what they were like, my house, and even my neighbors. Na-Yeon seemed particularly interested in Hoseok since Jimin had been such a fan of his growing up. 
“You need to get her over to Calvin and Violet’s,” James told his son, scraping up the last bit of the soup out of his bowl. “They’re expecting her soon.”
Jimin looked at me, eyebrow raised, “Are you ready?”
I nodded, “We can leave whenever you’re done.”
He smiled and went back to eating his meal. Eloise left before I did, Cam was tired and Harper was bored without her playmate, so she decided it was time they went home. Cam liked an afternoon nap still, but his sister could run all day if you let her. Harper gave me a big bear hug before she left, something Na-Yeon said she did to everyone, and held her brother’s hand on their way out. 
Na-Yeon eventually got up from the table, James followed after her, leaving Jimin and I alone. I did not know what to say, if he wanted me to say anything at all. He had hardly spoken to me since I arrived, and it left me feeling out of place. I was here for him, and he wanted nothing to do with me. He kept eating, the spice unfazed him, and getting bowl after bowl of rice. 
Watching him walk around I was struck by how short he was. Most male swimmers were huge, well over 6 feet, and broadly built. Not Jimin. He could not be any taller than 5’9” with a thin, tiny waist. I could see defined muscles hidden underneath his white t-shirt, but nothing spectacular. Even his body was soft and elegant, moving gracefully and quietly, and absolutely none of it would give away that he was a world-class athlete. As if he could feel my eyes following him, Jimin’s eyes snapped to meet my own.
“Sorry,” He pulled his spoon from his mouth. “I’m sure you’d like to leave and here I am gorging myself.”
I stopped him before he could stand, “No, no. I’m fine. I was just thinking about your workout routine.”
The lie felt heavy on my tongue, but I could hear how natural it sounded. He sat back down and took another bite of his food. His workout regime was standard for most swimmers. Pull-ups, bench, squat, lunge, power cleans, power cleans to overhead press. After that he was in the pool for a few hours before going about his day. He usually added in another swim at the end of the day, but he had recently given it up to have dinner with his family. 
“What are you doing for your core?” I asked.
“I stick to pull ups, crunches, thrusts, and back extensions.”
I nodded, frowning, gears in my head turning. I have always believed the core was the most important part of swimming. Arms as well, but I have seen many overwork those muscles and lose from weak turns. Hoseok used to joke about my performance and how I only won because of my turns. I would make sure he would be able to see a little bit of me in Jimin’s swimming. There was a reason I won gold.
“You don’t look very impressed.”
I chuckled, “Just thinking. You need more variety than that.”
“Gym snob, are we?” His mouth stretched into a playful smirk, and I could not help but smile back. “You must be an animal in there.”
“I don’t work out like I used to,” I admitted, averting my eyes. “Most of my exercises are yoga and running now. I swim twice a week.”
I was hoping to get back in the pool more often, but I was not sure I was ready for the disappointment that would follow. My sessions with Emery were simple, exercise-focused, and had little to no expectations behind them. They were there to help me gain strength and confidence in myself. Saturdays were spent with Hoseok doing laps around the pool and shooting the shit. It was just enough to get your heart pumping but never went past that. 
Failing was daunting. I could not remember a time before swimming consumed my life. My dad always said I was afraid of the water; it was the biggest reason he placed me in lessons. He did not have the time (nor patience) to teach me himself, and after I saw younger children getting into the pool I was determined to act like a “big girl.” I was only three at the time, so the memory was lost to time, but I went every week after that. It gave my dad a break and I had friends for the first time. I learned later that mom had left for a few months and dad was drinking again, but at the time all I knew was that I liked swimming, and I was good at it.
It was frightening to believe that all of the time, energy, and hard work went to waste. 30 seconds. That was all it took to destroy my life. 30 seconds and all of my joy, love, and happiness was gone. My career, my health, and my Joon. I hated the man who hit us. Hated the way his family cried for me. For him. For Joon. Squeeze my hands into fists, I was glad they were hidden underneath the table. Getting in the water and realizing it was truly over would only make that hatred worsen, and my therapist told me I needed to let go of my anger.
“Violet and Calvin are excited to meet you,” I did not know if Jimin could see something in his face, perhaps my eyes, but he changed the subject. The look on his face made me feel exposed. “We should get going.”
No one was around when I left so I did not get to say goodbye, but Jimin yelled that we were leaving. We did not get a response and I wondered if his mother had actually gone to do laundry or take a nap. She looked tired when she left the table. Jimin told me to get into the truck and laughed when I said I could grab my own bags. 
“Your hip might give out, granny.”
Off guard, a strange, loud noise came out of my mouth. He had yet to start up our playful banter and my heart soared. Jimin was a very cheeky man, his tongue sharp, and with a quick snapback time, he was difficult to take down. Our text exchanges were always brief and about work, but he managed to squeeze in at least one teasing comment about my age. He said calling him ‘kiddo’ is what started the whole thing.
“Just get in the truck,” He sighed melodramatically, rolling his eyes.
Huffing, I went across the lawn and got into the unlocked truck on the curb. The interior was just as refurbished as the exterior. The bench was covered in a dark green vinyl, and I could tell the rubber carpet mats were new. It smelled much better in Jimin’s truck. Less like cigarettes and more like the cologne he wore. It was floral, powdery, but with a subtle spice that made it bitter-sweet. It had a nice scent. It suited a man like Jimin whose own spice was buried underneath his pretty visage. 
Watching him jog across the yard, I suppressed a sigh. It was easier to ignore how pretty he was when we were around other people. Now it felt impossible. His clothes stuck to him like a second skin, the black leather pants (which I had only just noticed were leather) making his thighs bulge and accentuating his backside. He was gorgeous and I felt sorry that I would have to keep it to myself. Jimin deserved to be told things like that, but it was not my place to do so. Not as a coach, trainer, or otherwise.
He tossed my things into the cab of the truck as if they weighed nothing. Arms lifted; his shirt rose revealing a delicious patch of skin. Watching him in the rearview mirror, I swallowed audibly. A thin, almost nonexistent patch of hair touched his belly button. Forcing myself to look away, I took a few deep breaths.
This trip was going to be long. Very, very long. 
The drive down the road was quiet. Jimin’s radio was out, and he needed to replace it, so music was not an option, and he did not seem to want to fill the space between us. Neither did I. My growing bashfulness around him was distracting and strange. I had always been surrounded by attractive men, all of my friends back home were very good looking, but none affected me in the same way Jimin had. Perhaps it was due to my relationship with Namjoon that made all of the other men pale in comparison, but I could never know for sure. Either way, it was incredibly frustrating.
We drove for less than ten minutes. Calvin and Violet were the elderly couple renting out the small house in their backyard. Jimin had spoken to them for me, and they were all too willing to help me out. Violet nearly cried when I told her I was going to pay all of my rent up front, and actually did when I told her that I would help her fix up some things around the house while I was in town. The Andersons seemed like lovely people, and I was happy to know them.
Pulling up to the house I smiled. It was exactly how I imagined it would be. The Anderson house was a simple, All-American home with a front porch. The window trimming was black, house white, and a beautiful garden wrapped around the front at either side. The roof and front door were the same color green as Jimin’s truck, and it helped the otherwise unnoteworthy home feel more inviting. Sitting on the porch swing was Violet, her silver hair braided down her shoulder.
“Before we get out,” Jimin mumbled, waving at Violet through my window. The old woman waved back, a large smile on her face making her look twenty years younger. “The Andersons are great people, but Calvin’s starting to forget stuff. Violet won’t admit it but it’s getting hard on her to deal with him. He can become very angry so keep an ear out. Last time he had an episode, Violet called my dad crying. She’s not handling it well.”
I frowned, my heart hurting, “Sure thing. I’ll let you know if anything happens.”
“Thanks.”
He was out of the car a few seconds later, voice so sweet and bubbly you would have never guessed what we had been talking about. Staring after him, my eyes squinted. I would have to keep my eye on him. Jimin was a great actor.
Getting out of the truck, I took out my bags and slung my duffle on my back. Jimin was quick to take my suitcase away once he caught me in the corner of his eye. Violet seemed positively giddy about it and made a few inappropriate comments about Jimin needing to settle down.
“I’m just saying,” She laughed when Jimin scoffed, face flushing the prettiest shade of pink. “You’re going to make a young woman very happy. Might as well get started.”
It was strange to think about my trainee seeing someone. He had made it very clear in his interviews over the years that his dating life was on hold until he was finished swimming. He did not want the added distraction and his family life was far too chaotic for him to focus on someone. This did not seem to deter Violet and her comments about his love life, or lack thereof, continued until we got inside of the house.
“Well,” Violet acknowledged me for the first time since I arrived, “This is the main house. It’s not much but it’ll work. Christian, take her stuff out back.”
I cringed. It really did not suit Jimin at all, but he seemed completely unfazed. Violet used his names interchangeably, sometimes calling him Jimin and other times Christian, but his English name rolled off her tongue more often than not. I wondered why she even bothered calling him Jimin at all. He did not seem to care either way.
Looking around the little house, I was pleasantly surprised by how clean it all was. The floors were carpeted and the walls a bright white, family photos hung up alongside landscape paintings. During my two-hour phone call with Violet, the woman talked my ear off, she bragged about Calvin’s art. I had to admit they were all very beautiful and I wanted to know where he had found all of the slices of heaven he captured. I hoped the places themselves were more colorful than he depicted. The muted washes of color made them blend in with the rest of the boring house even with how nice they were.
The furniture was just as boring as the house itself. All of it was cream or beige, nothing of importance really stuck out to me, and I was disappointed. All I could figure out about the couple was one was an artist and they had children and grandchildren they loved displaying. Even the smell of the house lacked character. No air freshener, no food, and no perfumes. Nothing to give away that people actually lived here. The Anderson home was a foil to the Park’s in every way.
“Come on out back,” Violet was already across the house, standing in front of a door beside the kitchen. “This is the utility room. You can do your laundry here.”
Following behind her, I felt even more depressed looking at her kitchen. It was nice, new appliances and a pretty coffee station on the corner closest to the utility room door, but it was bland. All white cabinets, white marble countertops, and stainless steel everything. Even the curtains hanging around the windows above the sink were dreadfully plain.
The utility room, like everything else, was plain. The washer and dryer were white, the floor concrete, and the shelving barebones. The detergent was the most colorful thing I saw since arriving. Somehow even this room smelled like absolutely nothing. Directly across from the door we entered was the backdoor and Violet told me where they would hide a key for me to be able to get inside.
“Ready to see it?” She asked, smiling politely. 
I nodded, “Thanks again for renting it out to me.”
She chuckled, “No thanks needed. You were paying, that was enough for me to say yes.”
The back porch was tiny, just barely big enough for the both of us to stand on. There was a small vegetable garden along the side of the house, but it was empty. Noticing my wandering eyes, Violet told me all about the turnips and gourds she had been planting this season. She had watermelon and tomatoes in the summer, but they were long gone. The rest of the yard was taken up by my home for the next few months.
It was small, but that was to be expected. What disappointed me, though I should have not been very surprised, was how white it was. The windows were a dark gray, a small porch was set up with enough room for one of those hanging egg chairs, and two built-in planters. They were empty and Violet told me I was welcome to give gardening a chance if I was interested. She was planning on growing some flowers eventually, but she was not sure what she wanted.
The front door was open, Jimin already inside, and Violet and I went in. There was a small entryway, two doors leading to rooms I would explore later, and a small shoe rack. I took mine off and put them up. Violet watched me and took hers off as well.
“Audrey told me I should put one in here,” I was learning that Violet enjoyed meaningless small talk. “Glad I did. Don’t think Christian took his shoes off, though.”
I shrugged, “No biggie. I was going to clean up around here anyway.”
The house opened up to my right and I was happy with the space. I had a fully functional kitchen and enough space for my coffee cabinet along the wall. The living room would be able to fit a small loveseat, television, and coffee table. It was white and plain, but I was very happy with the floors. Whoever picked out the dark vinyl flooring must have had me in mind. I would go crazy if this place was as sterile as the Andersons’.
“I put your stuff in your room.”
Turning I grinned at Jimin. It was sweet of him to help me out. I was going to pick up my car tomorrow morning and he had volunteered to drive me. We would be starting our training next week so I could have some time to settle in. All of my furniture was arriving either tomorrow or the day after and my hands would be full. I was counting on Jimin and his friends to help me unpack. His manager was going to make himself known as well, but would not be staying for long. Apparently, according to Jimin, Sejin was not one to get his hands dirty.
“Thank you.”
“I’ll let you get settled in,” Violet was already scratching to leave, and I wondered why. She had been very hospitable over the phone. “You’re welcome to join us for dinner. Calvin is going to bring the air mattress out here tonight, so you have someplace to sleep.”
With a kiss on Jimin’s cheek, Violet slipped on her flats and left. Alone with Jimin again, I found it hard to speak. We were much better over text. Looking just as lost as I was, Jimin scratched the back of his neck and looked down. 
“My, uh, my mom offered you her couch if you want it,” He stuttered, his face turning red. “Or, uh, um, you can take the spare room at my place,” He let out a huge gust of wind. “It’s a bit of a drive but I do have the space.”
Flustered, I quickly declined, “Thanks but I’ll be fine here.”
“Oh, yeah,” Jimin shook his head, the redness spreading down his neck. “For sure. Totally.”
The air was awkward now and I could not figure out how to fix it. Jimin was the one always breaking the ice between us, and now that he was acting like this I was stranded at sea. Even when he warned me he was more reserved in person I had not expected this. He was so quiet and skittish. How was I supposed to work with him if I could not get the courage to speak?
“Thanks for the offer,” I cleared my throat. “Are you staying for dinner?”
He shook his head, “I promised Jungkook we’d go out tonight. Any other time I’d say yes.”
I asked my disappointment. The thought of spending time with Violet and Calvin alone made me deeply uncomfortable. Their house felt like a hospital room and her weird behavior was unsettling. I could only hope Calvin was nicer but from what Jimin said he was a ticking time bomb. It would be nice to have someone act as a buffer.
“Why was she acting so strangely?” I asked, hoping Jimin had picked up on it as well. “It was like a totally different person.”
He frowned, “I think she’s just on edge since Calvin went to the doctor’s today. Their daughter took him, and she hasn’t heard anything. She’s a sweet woman, don’t worry.”
Now I felt like an asshole.
“That’s understandable,” I murmured. “Do you think she’ll be upset if I order food for all of us? If she’s stressed out, I don’t want her feeling like she has to cook for me.”
Jimin smiled, “She would appreciate it. I’ll go talk to her, how does that sound?”
I nodded, grateful. “That would be nice. The house gives me the creeps.”
That made him laugh, “What? Why?”
I shrugged, giggling with him. 
“Feels like a funeral home or something. I hate the minimalist aesthetic.”
Jimin bit his lip, “You’d probably hate my place, too, then.”
I chuckled. It was easy to imagine Jimin inside of a huge modern house, dark wood and barely anything in it. He was a single man, busy, and spent so much time at his parent’s house it did not matter what he had inside of his own place. Not wanting to make him self conscious, I bit my tongue. 
“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
He cocked his head to the side, and I laughed.
“Fine,” I conceded. “I would probably dislike it, but I don’t think it looks like a white padded cell.”
I may have been exaggerating a bit, but it was not that far off from how the Anderson home looked to me. I hoped by asking me to help fix up a few things, Violet meant giving the house a much-needed makeover. If I was lucky, I might be able to convince her to get a few throw pillows to break up the monotony.
“Jeez,” Jimin laughed. “Harsh critic.”
“Well, is it?” I joked, glad to have found our footing again.
“No,” He shook his head in thought. “It’s mostly gray and black, but still just as empty. Probably emptier, honestly. I don’t have as many pictures as Violet does.”
Smirking, he snapped his fingers, “My trophy room is pretty colorful. I have a lot of pictures and shit in there.”
That made me smile. I was not bringing any of my memorabilia here, but it was nice to hear him sound so proud of himself. I kept most of my competition stuff in my basement, a large China cabinet displaying all of my awards. My favorite had to be the small, cheaply made trophy sat at the very top. It was beside my Olympic medals, worn and dull beside the beautiful necklaces, but I loved it all the same. 
It was the first trophy I ever won. I was seven and my dad convinced me to sign up for a swimming competition my swim class was hosting. He promised to come. I practiced a lot preparing for it and made use of the new above ground pool my dad had bought. I won the race. My own joy and happiness made me forget that he never showed up until it was time to go home. I had to wait with my coach for two hours, and by the end of it she felt so bad for me she took me out for ice cream. Dad never apologized, I don’t even think he acknowledged that I won at all, and I never tried to bring it up again. Still, I loved that stupid thing. It was the reason I wanted to compete. That little pocket of happiness between winning and realizing that no one cared was precious to me and I held onto it. 
“I need to get going,” Jimin sighed, reaching into his back pocket and snapping me out of my thoughts. “Jungkook’s blowing up my phone. Just got broken up with and needs a drinking buddy.”
I sucked in air through my teeth, “Well, your services are needed. Don’t let me hold you up.”
Jimin smiled at me, “See you tomorrow, yeah?”
I nodded, “See you.”
He lingered in the entryway for a moment more before shaking out of whatever trance he had been in. Slipping his converse back on, Jimin waved at me before walking outside. His face was buried in his phone, so he never saw me wave back. He shut the door, the sound echoing in the empty house, and I was once again left alone.
Violet came out a few minutes later to discuss take out until we finally landed on pizza. She never said thank you, but her offer to give the tip since I was paying was more than enough. Then later when a few of my boxes came in early she happily carried them to me. She even helped me put everything away. When Calvin came home, she led me back inside and said with so much affection it made my heart melt.
"Calvin, this is Y/N. Sweetest woman I ever did meet. Bought us dinner."
Calvin reminded me of Namjoon in a way. His soft eyes and gentle voice. He took my hand when I introduced myself, his hands cold and soft. Wrinkles and sunspots went up the length of his arms.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," He said.
"Likewise," I replied.
We ate in silence, the three of us watching Jeopardy on the sofa. Even though I had been nervous about eating inside, Calvin's presence warmed the place up. Once a prison now felt like a poorly decorated home. A home filled with love.
As I watched them together, Calvin reaching out for Violet's hand and her giving it to him without question, I felt myself getting choked up. There had been a time I had that. Joon would be on the floor, book in his lap, while my hands were in his hair as I studied my training tapes.
I left early that night. I blew up the mattress, the house quiet, before sending out a few texts to my friends to let them know I was getting on alright. After that, I put on nature sounds to help me drift off to sleep. I had not felt this lonely in a very long time.
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nomazee · 1 year
Text
open up
sebastian (sdv) x reader
word count: 3.5k
content: silly love again, mutual pining, not actually unrequited love, some goofs and giggles and misunderstandings, the teeniest tiniest inkling of angst but it’s covered up with silliness, the word hussy is used which is the funniest word ever and i’m so glad i discovered it it’s so old-timey-small-town word
notes: this is a part three to my little mini series w sebastian! you can find part one here,   and part two here! 
oh hey guys this is probably completely indecipherable but i’ve been rewriting this over and over again this past week and decided that this is my most proudest version of this work and maybe there will be more but this... is IT (i’m lying and will be writing more companion pieces to this okay much love love all of u mwah) 
<><><><><>
Hiding from your problems does not fix everything. In fact, it doesn’t fix anything. 
It’s a lesson you should’ve figured out the first time you did it. You remember being back in grade school, forgetting to study for a test one year and faking a rash in the nurse’s office to get out of it. The rash in question was a collection of the healing, scabbed-over cat scratches on your forearm. You’d drawn over it harshly with dark red pen and marker to create some kind of rash-like illusion. In the end all you got was a disappointed look from the nurse, an ugly smear of red and burgundy on your arm, and a D-minus on your world history test. 
So, yes. Hiding has dreadful consequences. And even just during your time in Stardew Valley, you should’ve known to keep this lesson close to your heart. This is the second time you’ve run away from Sebastian already, and the first time didn't last long anyways. Stupid, silly you. 
In your defense, it wasn’t really Sebastian you were running away from. It was his mom. For three days following your stupid kissing shenanigans, Robin terrorized your dreams, and your daydreams, and the reflections of yourself that you saw in the tiny pond on your farm… 
So, yes it’s safe to say that running away was not doing you any good. But what other choice did you have? 
You’re an adult. You could totally scrape apart what’s left of your dignity and act like it—maybe take the walk up to the mountains and apologize to Robin and Sebastian, too. Tell them that it was wrong of you to be so promiscuous on their front porch (promiscuous, of course, equating to one single kiss on the lips that lasted no more than ten seconds), and that you’d never do it again and never even look Sebastian in the eyes, if that’s what they wanted.
While you’re at it, maybe you’d be able to ask Robin for the coop upgrade that you’ve needed for weeks now. All you have to do is… be an adult and face your problems. Your one massive roadblock of a problem. 
It’s not even a problem, per se. But you’ve embarrassed yourself far too much in front of the people in this town and you’re a little tired of taking blow after devastating blow to your reputation. You’d rather wilt and rot here, on the soil of your farm, with your duck walking her webbed feet across your chest and leaving damp marks all over your shirt. 
This is peace. This is where you could die, decomposing in your leftover humiliation from the week before. But of course—all good things come to an end, and the end comes to you in the form of a distinct lack of wheat seeds in your storage containers. 
Dreadful. This is a sign from some higher power that it’s finally time for you to get your ass up and go into town. Face the world like an adult. Get your wheat seeds so that you and your animals don’t starve to death and rot away on this already-rotting farm. Ugh. 
Your duck pads up your chest and leans her face into yours. Her beady little eyes stare right into your soul. She’s begging you. Begging you to get wheat so her plump little body doesn’t start to deteriorate. What a manipulator. 
A heavy, bone-rattling sigh escapes you as you gently push her off of you and sit up. This is it. You have to face everyone, again, after embarrassing yourself in front of the stupid boy you like and his mother, of all people. Fortunately for you, they live up in the mountains, so a little trip to PIerre’s in town wouldn’t be so much of a risk. You’d be fine. You could still be a functioning adult, so long as you didn't wander up north where the mines were. 
Okay, well. You lied to yourself. 
It was all a big lie. A big lie you told yourself to feel some kind of security about leaving your stupid, lonely farm and going into town and getting the stupid seeds that you needed. You’re a liar, a fraud, and a chronic-problem-avoider, and none of those problems would ever get fixed during your probably-very-short-lifespan. Short, of course, because you were going to die in the middle of Pierre’s shop, right here and right now in the produce aisle. 
Because of course, as luck would have it, Sebastian is right there too. Staring at you. Holding two unshucked ears of corn, in his hands. You would laugh at how silly he looked if this wasn’t so humiliating. 
“Um.” He’s the first to say anything. Hearing his voice after a week startles you enough to make you stiffen even more and your shaky hands threaten to drop the seed packets to the floor. His eyes are wide and there’s a flush to his cheeks that might be from the leftover chill of the outdoors. Despite everything, you hope maybe it’s because of you instead. 
You can’t form words. Your mouth flutters open and closed like a trapdoor until you decide to keep them tightly shut. Devastating. Humiliating. Mortifying. There are so many words that you’ve used so often over the last two weeks that you could continue to use here. Your vocabulary is not very expansive in the slightest, but it’s not your fault you’ve been put in the same types of scenarios so often. 
“Hello,” you choke out. Surprisingly, your voice is steady for the most part. The rest of you is not. The seeds rattle in your hands and you can feel your legs locked up. Anxiety floods through you like ice water and freezes in your bone marrow. You’re stuck. You might throw up. Again, this is a very common theme in every interaction you have with Sebastian. Very unfortunate. 
Even more unfortunate is the fact that, despite all the embarrassment and chagrin and overall-horrifying matter of events, you still want to kiss him. You’re reliving the ten-second kiss from the last time you saw him and it’s making you enter some parallel universe in your head—one where his mom didn't catch you kissing, and where he liked you back and maybe let you sleep over his house like he said he would, and where you could kiss him even more. You’re getting whiplash from everything running through your head. God.
“I, um…” he clearly feels just as awkward, which does nothing to reassure you. “Haven’t seen you in a while. We thought you’d… show up to the saloon, or.” Sebastian cuts himself off early. He must realize by your completely unmoving form that you’re not planning on loosening up at all during the course of this conversation. 
“Right, um,” you scramble for some kind of excuse but you know that regardless of what you say, he’s gonna know. He’s not gonna believe a single thing you say, because he knows. He was there. He was the one that you kissed. 
There’s no way he’s not completely aware at this time. Totally and utterly aware that you’re indescribably in love with him, more than infatuated. He must know that you like him so much it makes your chest hurt and your head ache with the untamable need to kiss him stupid every time you see his face. He must know. You’d risked it all, laid it open on the table for him last week when you kissed him and he didn't do much with it, really, which was fine but—he must know. After all of this. 
A thought rushes through your head and it immediately heats up the ice in your bones. You’re moving, now, this time at a pace that can only be achieved by spontaneous ferocity and a phobia of the mother of the boy you like. You’re quick to act, lunging forward and grabbing his arm to pull his entire form behind the shelf. 
“Is your mom here?!” you whisper harshly at him. You didn't even think of it until now, the fact that he might be here with his mother and that would mean you’d have to face her not on your own terms. A confrontation would start up in the middle of this quiet, quaint little grocery store, and you’d have to yield and nod at an angry ginger woman as she called you a hussy, or something. Or— no, Robin wouldn’t call you a hussy. She was too nice for that. Pam would call you a hussy, probably. Well. 
The distress in your voice must come out clearly enough for him because he frantically shakes his head and whispers back a definite no! It’s too late to reel you back in, though, and your mind is already going a million miles a minute. If you’re going to do anything, you have to do it now, because otherwise you will never speak a single word to this family ever again. 
“You— Please tell your mom that I’m sorry, like so very very sorry, and I will give her so many of my crops and hardwood and stone to make up for everything. And—” you shush him when he tries to interrupt, talking over him rapidly to stop him from trying it again, “—I didn't mean to— or, I did mean— um, point is. Tell your mom. I’m so sorry. And that I really need a coop upgrade and I’ll pay her double what it normally is to make up for everything.” You pause. “Please.” 
Sebastian is. Speechless. It’s not often that you see him like this—in fact, you don’t think you’ve actually ever seen him like this. His mouth flutters open and closed. Trapdoor, just like you, earlier. The shared traits between both of you make you want to throw up and scream. It’s too endearing and you want to rip your heart out before another situation happens just like last time, this time with Pierre as your witness. 
“What…” he begins, “are you talking about?” The furrow in his brow is one of genuine confusion, and so is the high-pitched lilt of his questioning voice. It only serves to make you more confused. And more agitated because this is really really embarrassing and the heat of it is starting to settle on your face and neck. 
“What. Do you think. I’m talking about.”
He obviously does not get the hint. He stays quiet, expression frustratingly unmoving as he blinks once, twice, three times at you. Holy shit. 
“I’m not going to say it,” you tell him. Any kind of confidence you had going into this conversation has dissipated and melted into a gooey kind of embarrassment. Suddenly, you’re back in the grade school nurse’s office, flinching at the disappointed look she gives you as she writes you a pass back to class—back to your impending doom and the D-minus that awaits you. This is that. This is worse than that by ten— no, a thousand times. 
“Are you five years old? What are you talking about, just say—!” 
“You are so embarrassing.” You hiss at him, but there’s really no weight in your lackluster insult. It’s more of a half hearted attempt to get him to stop talking about everything and anything, at least until you get out of this goddamn store and maybe even this goddamn town where everyone likes to gossip. 
You nearly tear the stupid ears of corn out of his stupid hands in your rush to get out of this store. “Are you— Is this the only thing you’re buying?” At his nod, you grab three more packets of miscellaneous seeds and start your rushed walk to the counter to check out. 
“What are you doing?!” His voice is a frantic whisper, matching your tone, but it’s less aggravated and more just genuinely confused. Sebastian seems dazed, threaded into the spinning loom of your contagious anxiety. You feel bad about it, really, but you’re threaded right next to him in an aggravating bright yellow string, and it’s hard to untangle yourself. 
“Please shut up,” you mumble, and then you’re at the counter and ignoring Pierre’s worried look as you pull crinkled dollar bills from your pockets. The transaction is fast, thankfully, and the cost of Sebastian’s items doesn’t set you back too much. Before you know it, you’re gripping part of his hoodie sleeve and dragging him out the door behind you. 
The chill of fall hits you when you step outside. A foggy breath escapes you as you gain the courage to turn back at him. “You. Need to take these to your mom,” you thrust the stupid corn back into his arms and he catches them, thankfully, “and tell her I’m sorry. And pretend everything never happened. Tell her I’m. Really super very sorry.” 
“I don’t think you— I’m. Not sure I understand,” he counters you, hesitant but determined in the way he keeps going, “she’s not mad at you. Why are you apologizing? I haven’t seen you for a week and now…?” 
Aw. Maybe you should find it sweet that he seems at least a little bit upset about not seeing you, almost like he missed you. That delusional thought is muffled by the stress of everything you’re talking about, though. 
“Hussy.” 
“What?” 
“Um.” There is no coming back from this. “Does she— Do people say that here? Does she. Think I’m a hussy.”
This is a ridiculous conversation. Every single interaction you’ve had with Sebastian, ever, has been ridiculous, and this is doing nothing to disprove that. You’ve actually going to puke. You know, it’s been just a joking threat these past few weeks, but this time you’re really going to vomit all over his stupid skater sneakers. 
He’s dead silent, startled into submission by your words and you can’t even blame him. Who says the word hussy?! Why did you think anyone would call you a hussy?!?! 
“I kissed her son in the dead of night right in front of her house,” you speak slowly and clearly, forcing yourself past the utter mortification that freezes your fingers and makes bile stir in your stomach, “and you’re saying that she doesn’t, um. That she’s… not mad.”
There is no coming back from this. Again. You’re grasping for either reassurance Sebastian’s mouth does that trapdoor thing again. You contemplate dropping all your seeds and running. Maybe the birds will like them. 
“No. You just left me on my porch.” And he’s upset. At least a little bit. It shows in the incredulous tone of his voice and the way his lips stay parted in disbelief. You did, unfortunately, leave him on that porch that night. He’s not… wrong about that. “And then avoided me for a week. You didn't even come into town at all. Abigail and Sam told me they never saw you. Did you never leave your farm just so you wouldn’t see me?” Hurt. He’s hurt, not just upset.
Now you just feel stupid. You didn't even consider the implications of kissing someone and then running away and never seeing them again. In your defense, it wasn’t because of him, more because of his mom and the very likely (read: completely inaccurate) prediction that Robin would beat you up on sight. 
“No!” You’re frantic to clear things up, but judging by his doubtful expression you’re going to have to do a lot to reach that goal. “That’s. It wasn’t on purpose. It was embarrassing.” It’s probably still the wrong choice of words. His face flinches and he glances to the side in discomfort. You’re losing him. You’re so, so bad at this. No kidding. That’s why you kissed a guy in front of his mom and almost threw up on his shoes, like, twice. Three times. 
Maybe if you put it into perspective. “How would you feel if you kissed someone in their front lawn and then their mom came out and caught you guys kissing and on top of that, what if you were the new person in town and everyone still kind of maybe doesn’t like you completely, and you just ruined your reputation by kissing somebody in front of their parent?” Okay. Effective. 
It’s quiet. He’s blinking at you. You get that response a lot whenever you speak to him, really. Maybe that’s a testament to your eloquence. (It’s really not.) 
“And,” you keep going, because of course you do, “you never visited me, never sent a letter, nothing. Nobody came to see me. And. I kissed you and then you said nothing and. What was I supposed to do?!” 
It’s what you’ve held back for a week now. Really, you weren’t expecting him to show up at your house and confess his undying love for you. A kiss is just a kiss. But if he was going to bring up the whole never-seeing-him-again thing, then you could do that too. 
“You.” Trapdoor. He stutters and falters and lets out a sigh that deflates all the tension in his body. “My mom. Wants you to come over for dinner.”
Okay. Well. What the fuck does that mean. 
“I want you to come over for dinner,” he clarifies. The furrow in his brow is one of certainty instead of confusion. His eyes meet yours, and stay locked for as long as his inner anxieties allow before he’s looking to the side and avoiding your wide-eyed stare. 
Oh. Okay. That’s what. He means. 
“Well,” you say out loud, because you’re an idiot and can’t ever control the words that spill out of your mouth. “Then. I would really love having dinner with you.” It’s supposed to come out determined, assured, maybe even a little flirty. Instead, it comes out awkwardly and stilted and you think you might be making a weird face at him on accident. The message clearly gets across, though, because the subtle tension in his face dissipates and he’s starting to smile at you. His stupid, awkward, tucked-in smile. You will yourself to not kiss him in the middle of the town square. 
He mumbles a hazy “yeah,” and for a moment you think he sounds almost… dreamy. Lovestruck, maybe. Of course he’s not, because he’s Sebastian and you’re the farmer (th farmer that kissed him, and he kissed back, and now he’s inviting to his house for dinner, but. Well. That’s besides the point). It’s wishful thinking, but you still can’t help the way your eyes trail across his face and down and along the seam of his lips and. There’s the craving to kiss him, reignited, stirring deep in your chest and stomach and in the twitch of your fingertips. 
“I guess that means we have to make plans for it,” and there’s some odd deeper meaning in his words, and his eyes are flitting to the side before coming back to you again. His lips twitch in something close to mischief, but not quite. “I guess that I should come over. To talk about plans.” 
You’re smiling. You try to resist it, scared you’ll look stupid with how wide you’re grinning but you can’t help it and now you’re smiling with teeth and pressing a giggle back down your throat before you start shrieking in joy. “I think you should. I think I should walk you to my house and talk about. Dinner plans. Totally dinner plans.” Sebastian’s eyes flit to your lips for a moment, a devastating, knee-weakening palm-dampening bone-rattling moment. You’re very certain that you didn't imagine it in some infatuated haze. The corners of his lips tuck into that smile you love so much, too much, and he lets out a breathy sort of laugh. “Dinner plans.” 
You walk him home—to your home, this time. There’s seeds in your right hand and the two ears of corn in his left, and your proximity as you walk makes it so that your hands brush together slightly with every step you take. His hands are dry from the cold. You don’t tell him that. 
And you two don’t hold hands on the way home, because that would be silly. Because you’re just walking him to your house, to talk about dinner plans. There’s a bubble of unspoken things around the both of you, but there’s something between the looks you share with each other that makes you stop caring so much about saying things. You’re not very good at that, anyways. 
You show him your favorite duck in your coop, the one you want Robin to upgrade, and then your cool cheese press machine that accounts for half the money you earn from your farm. He’s finally introduced to Kitty, who yowls at him once before padding up to him and biting his calf. You tell him it’s her love language. 
And you talk about dinner plans. Or. Well. Who are you kidding. You kiss him silly. Silly and stupid in your kitchen, tugging on the sleeves and cuffs of his hoodie and then the hairs at the nape of his neck and then his fingers, trailing your own against his palm in circles and spirals and heart shapes that you’re almost embarrassed to be making. Almost. But not really. 
You don’t really have the time or mind to be embarrassed, really. Not when you’re dizzy and warm and giggling into the lips of the pretty boy you’re in love with. And, not when you’re busy making dinner plans, of course. 
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iprobablyshipit91 · 1 year
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iprobablyshipit91 Fic Recs
So this started as me keeping links of all my favourite Dean Winchester fics that I finally decided to share so others could hopefully find some great stories and the authors would know how much I love their work. It’s kind of grown to a very, very huge list, but I love everyone of these works, they’re amazing and deserve so much love. I hope you find something you love on here 💕
There’s a mix of fluff, angst, smut, au etc. Please make sure you read the warnings for each story on it’s own page.
Beautiful Dividers by @firefly-graphics
Dean Winchester x Reader
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Should I Stay or Should I Go by @daisythekitty
Sweet Dreams by @deanssweetheart23
Slip Up by @deanwritings
Bad Moon Rising by @hintsofhoney
Not the Planned Delivery by @lazydoodlesandfanfic
Unnamed by @lostdreamr-blog1
I’ve Got You by @spnexploration
Broken Ribs Against Fingertips by @the--blackdahlia
Motel Diablo by @waynes-multiverse
Sharing is Caring by @zepskies
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Mini Date by @avanatural
The Talk by @avanatural
And Baby Makes Four by @carryonmywaywardone-shots
Nows the Time by @crashdevlin
Down on Dean by @deanwanddamons
The Prettiest One by @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior
Always You and Me by @deanwinchesterswitch
Bullets and Bands by @deanwinchesterswitch
Capeesh? By @deanwritings
I Ship It by @deanwritings
It’s Okay by @deanwritings
Safe Now by @deanwritings
What We Lost by @deanwritings
Tell Me About… by @impala-dreamer
Glances by @kasimagines
It’s Okay, I Love You by @kasimagines
Poison by @kasimagines
Obeying Temptation by @kittenofdoomage
Sweet Satisfaction by @kittenofdoomage
Nannas Love Sammy by @littlegreenplasticsoldier
Something New by @princessmisery666
Date Night by @princessmisery666
I Would Never Hurt You by @procrastinatorimagines
Frayed Ends by @scuttling
Must be Love on the Brain by @sleepywinchester
Below Freezing by @soaringeag1e
Promises by @supersleepygoat
Friendzoned by @talesmaniac89
Stupid Cupid by @talesmaniac89
Crazy on You by @thoughtslikeaminefield
Different by @watermelonlipstick
Labyrinth by @waynes-multiverse
Love on the Brain by @waynes-multiverse
Gesundheit by @waynes-multiverse
Dark Waters by @wearywinchester
Above Ground by @wearywinchester
I Won’t Say (I’m in Love) by @zepppie
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The Wrong Winchester by @cherry3point14
Good Things by @crashdevlin
Baby Spoon by @deanwanddamons
Rumours by @deanwinchesterswitch
Blind Love by @jawritter
Faded by @kasimagines
Sacrifice by @kasimagines
The Last Call by @kasimagines
To Know You by @littlegreenplasticsoldier
Watch and Learn by @littlegreenplasticsoldier
Can’t Fight This Feeling by @pink-sparkly-witch
Mischief Managed (2) by @sinfulsoulx
A Few Moments of Madness | Last Time? by @smellingofpoetry
Familiar by @spnhunter4life
Dream On by @talesmaniac89
Well, Hello There Stranger by @talesmaniac89
If You Want it to Be by @zepskies
Midnight Espresso | Devour Me by @zepskies
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Clear the Area by Alisha Ashton
Many of Horror by Alisha Ashton
Closing Walls and Ticking Clocks by Alisha Ashton
In the Dark by Alisha Ashton
Comfort by @fangirlingfromdownunder
Baby, We’ve got a Problem by @deanwritings
Night Falls by @deanwritings
Captives of the Court by @impala-dreamer
Carry On by @jawritter
My Saviour by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes
Heart of a Hunter by @muchamusedaboutnothing
The Widow by @pink-sparkly-witch
The One That Got Away by @pink-sparkly-witch
Hold On I’m Coming by @ravengirl94
The Arrangement by @ravengirl94
Long Way Home by @supersleepygoat
Cross my Heart by @smol-and-grumpy
Home to You by @smol-and-grumpy
Collared by @spnexploration
Pack by @spnexploration
Limelight by @talesmaniac89
Charity Heist by @talesmaniac89
The Man in Apartment 43 by @talesmaniac89
Practically Magic by @thelibrarylesstrektraveled
Supernatural Series Rewrite: Season 1 by @waywardaardvark79
Supernatural Series Rewrite: Season 2 by @waywardaardvark79
Miscommunication by @winchest09
Don’t Say a Word by @winchester-girl67
Never Say Goodbye by @zepskies
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Note
Hey friend!!! Ive been loooving, devouring and reblogging all your fics! I was wondering if i could request azriel x reader where reader has a visible scar on her face, maybe through her eyebrow down to mid cheek from an attacker that tried to kill her. She has a mini crush on azriel but she sees how hes attracted to Elain whos the definition of beauty so reader just gives up even attempting to like him. Angst with happy ending pls. ❤️
Forever
Azriel x f!Reader
Warnings; mentions of abuse and death.
Masterlist
Not one of my best writings but I really didn't know how to write this. If you don't like it please let me know so I can rewrite it! Thank you so much for your kind words and I really hope I didn't let you down with this.
You joined the inner circle when you were still a teenager. Rhysand had found you in Hewn City when two males tried to force themselves on you after a party. You watched wide-eyed as he made a public display of power by crushing their minds and flinched when he grabbed you and winnowed away. He took you to Velaris and you met the rest of the inner circle who instantly welcomed you and made you a part of their small family.
The shadowsinger immediately caught your attention and you found yourself falling for him as the years passed. Your close relationship with them though pissed off your father and one of the days you visited Hewn City with them he paid someone to end your life. Your attacker managed to find you alone and pounced on you with a dagger in hand. You quickly jumped back and let a scream when his dagger scratched your face from your eyebrow to your cheekbone. Azriel heard your cries and emerged from darkness next to you, he immediately disarmed your attacker while his shadows caressed your wounded skin, their coldness soothing the pain. He called Rhys to take you to Velaris and then disappeared with your attacker.
Madja did everything she could, and she managed to save your eye, but the scar remained, a constant reminder of your father’s resentment. Azriel remained by your side helping you get past your trauma and teaching you how to defend yourself in a similar situation. You really enjoyed the attention he gave you and once again you started hoping that one day he might fall for you.
Then the Archeron sisters came into your life and Azriel became distant as he started spending time with the middle one. He would disappear for the whole day and when he would come back to the house of wind to sleep, he would reek of Elain’s scent. Your heart broke every time he would pass in front of you with a quick nod as a greeting and then disappear into his room. Elain was the definition of perfection, long golden-brown hair, rich brown eyes and most importantly a face without any scars. You could see why Azriel fawned over her, and even though it hurt, you remained silent thinking that he deserves a beautiful female like her by his side and not a sullied one like you.  You stopped trying to get his attention, stopped making him tea every morning, stopped tidying his daggers and books knowing that he wouldn’t even notice.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
You were sitting on your bed reading one of the books that Nesta gave you when Azriel strolled in with a worried expression.
“What’s wrong?” he asked and crossed his arms over his chest.
“What do you mean?” you furrowed your eyebrows.
“You are avoiding me.” He exclaimed.
“No I am not” you lied. “I’m not stupid.” He growled “I don’t have to avoid you since you are never here” you snorted.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Listen, I get why you spend so much time with Elain, she is perfect, and I really hope you two will be happy together but please give me some time to adjust.” You sighed.
“What? There’s nothing going on between me and her. I’m just following Rhysand’s orders.” He was staring at you with a panicked expression.
“Az I know you, this is not just an order you’re following, you’re falling for her.” You said softly. “I really hoped that one day you would fall for me, but I get it… I’m not perfect” you pointed at your scar and Azriel’s breath hitched.
“Don’t you ever say that again” he growled “you are perfect, and this scar makes you even more irresistible.” He sat next to you on the bed and cupped your face “I fell for you the moment I saw you. I couldn’t believe that a female like you could ever want someone like me, and then the attack happened, and I realized that I can’t even protect you, so I kept my distance.” You blinked and opened your mouth to speak but he held a finger up stopping you.
“I spend my time with Elain because I want to help her, to keep her safe because I failed you. I thought that if I could do that with her I would become worthy of you”
“You never failed me Az” your voice was barely above a whisper as you spoke. “You couldn’t know that my own father would hire someone to kill me, and even though you weren’t expecting it you came just in time to save me. I wouldn’t be here without you.”
He sighed and pressed his forehead against your own. “Can you forgive me?” he whispered. “There is nothing to forgive.” You smiled.
He returned your smile and slowly captured your lips with his own, his kiss was soft yet needy and his thumbs caressed your cheeks.
“You have my full attention angel… forever” he said when you broke the kiss. “I love you” you sighed.
“I love you more” he replied and kissed you again.
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genshinluvr · 1 year
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Attached to the Hips
Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader
Summary: You thought you were a clingy lover until these men came into your life. You and the men are attached to the hip, and they will follow you everywhere you go.
Note: Finals week is approaching and I'm debating whether I should write a shorter fic for that week or not. I have essays to type out and over fifty terms to study for Greek and Latin. As someone with terrible memory, I'm going to need to rewrite those terms and go review them over and over until I remember most of it. So, next week's Genshin fic will probably be a mini-fic and the fic I'll be writing during my finals week will probably be around 5k words or less. It depends, really. I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).
Warnings: None that I know of 🤔
Word Count: 7.9k
You’re a clingy lover, and you’re not ashamed of being one. Despite being a clingy lover, that doesn’t mean you don’t respect your boyfriends’ boundaries, nor do you cling to them in public like a sticker. You can give them space and not have to be attached to their hips 24/7. Now, you thought you were the clingiest person in the relationship, but these twenty-five men proved you wrong.
The first thing you feel when you wake up in bed is that it’s really hot. Your bedroom is cold, but for some reason, your body feels uncomfortably hot. So you kicked your blanket mountain off your body, watching the blankets roll off your bed. You turn to your side, only to see Childe clinging to you while smiling at you sleepily. Archons, he looks so cute with his bedhead. But why is he in your bedroom?
You stare at Childe and blink at him sleepily. “Childe, why are you in my room?” You ask, voice raspy from the lack of use. 
Childe doesn’t reply and scoots closer to you, pressing his cheek against yours with a sigh of contentment. “Good morning, snookums! I hope you slept well last night! Well, you didn’t need to tell me since you were snoring and drooling all over your pillow,” Childe snickers.
Your face heats up after hearing Childe’s response. Childe reaches over and wipes the stream of semi-dried drool from the corner of your lips and on your cheek. You swat Childe’s hands away from your face before sitting up, bringing the ginger with you. Childe continues to have his arms wrapped around your body, resting his cheek on your head.
“Were you in my room all night? You still have a bedhead,” you say, looking at him from the corner of your eyes.
Childe shakes his head. “Not all night! I crawled into your bed in the middle of the night, actually!” Childe replies.
“Yeah, well, you need to let me go so I can go to the bathroom to get ready for the day,” you say, trying to pry Childe’s arm off you.
Childe frowns and shakes his head, tightening his grip around you. After a few minutes of struggling to pry him off, you let your arms fall to your side with a sigh of defeat. Childe grins with victory before resting his head on your shoulders, nuzzling into your neck. You end up brushing your teeth with Childe by your side, his arms wrapping around your waist while his chest is pressing up against your back. 
“Don’t forget to brush your teeth, Childe. You don’t want to walk around the estate with smelly breath, now, do you?” You tease after rinsing your mouth.
Childe quickly releases you from his clutch before covering his mouth and checking his breath. Childe clears his throat and looks away, his cheeks flushing red. You snort and squat to the sink cabinet and pull out an extra toothbrush for Childe to use. Since Childe refuses to leave you alone, you might as well let him use the spare toothbrush. Childe gives you a grateful smile before grabbing the toothpaste to start brushing his teeth.
You weren’t surprised that Childe is clingy when it comes to you. Childe was immediately attached to you by the hips since day one of your being in Teyvat. Plus, he was also the first one to greet you and make you feel welcome. While Childe is brushing his teeth, you take that chance and leave the bathroom to return to your bedroom.
That’s when you see Itto standing there with his hands on his hips with a wide smile on his face. “Good morning, onikabuto booboo bear! I hope you slept well!” Itto says, skipping up to you before throwing his arms around your shoulders and planting a big kiss on your cheek.
You smile and turn your head to kiss his cheek in return while rubbing his back. You release Itto, but the Oni continues to keep his arms around your waist. You sigh and shake your head, fighting back a smile. Right, how could you forget about Itto being the second clingiest person next to Childe? Then again, your twenty-five boyfriends are clingy in their own way, and you’re not complaining one bit. Unless it’s sweltering outside and you and whichever man are sweating, making your skin stick to each other.
“You’re awfully clingy today,” you comment, running your fingers through Itto’s hair.
Itto hums and kisses your cheek again. “I saw that Childe’s room was empty, and I knew he would be with you. So, I decided to come over to check, and I was right!” Itto says, pointing an accusing finger at Childe, who just stepped out of your bathroom.
You playfully roll your eyes and gesture for the two men to follow you downstairs for breakfast. Childe grabs Itto by the hair and pulls Itto off you; Itto yelps in pain and glares at Childe, who smirks in response. You cross your arms over your chest, staring at the two men before you while tapping your foot on the ground. It’s way too early to deal with Childe and Itto fighting over you. You would think you’d get used to it by now, but every day is something new. 
“Boys, please, it’s eight in the morning. Can we please go downstairs and get something to eat for breakfast? I’m hungry,” you sigh.
Childe and Itto quickly fix their composure before standing at your side, looping their arms around yours while glaring at each other over your head. You shake your head and walk out of your bedroom with Itto and Childe by your side.
As you, Childe, and Itto get to the last step on the staircase, you hear one of the men call out from where they’re sitting.
“And there they are! Finally awake and clinging to [Y/N]’s side, as per usual!” Heizou announces dramatically. “Must be nice to wake up to two men already needing attention from [Y/N]. How does it feel, [Y/N]?” Heizou looks at you curiously.
You roll your eyes and unloop your arms from Itto and Childe’s arms. “You know, I would agree, but dealing with their bickering at eight in the morning is something you don’t want to deal with,” you reply, sitting across from Tighnari.
Aether snorts and shakes his head. “I shouldn’t be surprised that Itto and Childe are already clinging to [Y/N] at eight in the morning,” says Aether, cutting his pancakes before shoving the slice of pancake into his mouth. “But for some reason, I am.” 
Childe and Itto shoot glares at one another before parting ways to sit at their respective seats at the dining table. You begin digging into your breakfast, humming with delight the minute food touches your tongue. Cyno reaches over and wipes the corner of your mouth with a cloth napkin, the corners of his lips curving upward.
“You’re quite hungry, aren’t you?” Cyno asks, resting his arm on the table.
You nod. “Oh, I am. I have never woken up so hungry before until today.” You reply.
Cyno scoots his chair closer to you while you continue to dig into your food, not realizing the lack of distance between your and Cyno’s seats. However, the other men stopped eating and stared at Cyno. Kaveh clears his throat and casually scoots closer to you, practically sandwiching you between him and Cyno. 
Kaveh notices Al Haitham’s eye twitching at the sight of him sitting close to you. Kaveh smirks and turns to look at you, propping his left arm on the table before tapping you on the shoulder. You hold up your index finger, telling Kaveh to give you a moment. You reach for the cloth napkin and wipe your mouth before looking over in Kaveh’s direction.
“Yes?” You say, swallowing your breakfast with the napkin still covering your lips.
Kaveh smiles at you and strokes your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ear after. You stare at Kaveh, confused about what he’s up to. Kaveh leans down and presses a big kiss on your cheek before turning to look at the other men—mainly Al Haitham, with a shit-eating grin on his face.
You nudge Kaveh to get his attention. Kaveh looks at you and rests his head on his bicep, giving you the softest smile you’ve seen today. You feel your face turn hot before looking at the plate in front of you. Kaveh reaches for your face, grabs you by the chin, and makes you look at him.
“Do you know how happy you make me?” Kaveh asks, squeezing your chin lightly.
You clear your throat. “I’m surprised you haven’t called me an Abyss mage yet,” you say, grabbing the hand that was squeezing your chin.
Kaveh snorts before interlocking his fingers with yours, giving your hand a squeeze. “You’re the cutest Abyss mage to have existed. I bet if you were to be an Abyss mage, you’d be the fluffiest one of all,” Kaveh says, grinning at you.
Cyno snorts and rolls his eyes. “I would take that as an offense if I were you. Abyss mages are annoying creatures,” Cyno says nonchalantly before taking a sip of his water.
You look at Cyno with your mouth agape before turning to look at Kaveh. “Does that mean I’m as annoying as those Abyss mages?” you ask.
Kaveh makes a ‘so-so’ gesture in response. Your face scrunches up before you pull your hand out from Kaveh’s grasp, continuing to eat your breakfast. Once you finished your breakfast, you got up from your seat to go wash your dishes. When you disappear into the kitchen, Al Haitham starts giving Kaveh an earful while Tighnari tells Cyno off for saying that Abyss mages are annoying creatures.
“I mean, Cyno’s not wrong. The hydro and cryo ones are the most annoying,” Dottore comments, wiping his lips with the cloth napkin.
Tighnari sighs and glares at Dottore. “Even if that’s the case, it’s like Cyno is implying that [Y/N] is as annoying as the Abyss mages,” replies Tighnari, rubbing his temples with a sigh. “You better apologize to [Y/N] later, mister!” Tighnari says, pointing an accusing finger at the Mahamatra.
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, while you’re scrubbing the stubborn stains on the plate, you feel someone wrap their arms around your waist. You turn your head to see Thoma standing behind you while smiling at you. You smile at Thoma in return before continuing where you left off.
“This thing is so annoying. I don’t get how you don’t get frustrated with these stains sometimes,” you mutter, scrubbing the dried food spot with vigor. 
Thoma plants a kiss on the side of your neck before reaching for the sponge in your hand. At least, that’s what you assumed Thoma was going to do, but in reality, he places his hand over yours to show you how to properly get the stain off the dish. It wasn’t doing anything. You knew Thoma wanted to hold your hand and be close to you like the others. Not that you’re complaining and are against it, really. But you would prefer Thoma to do it when your hands aren’t submerged in water.
“I love being close to you. Did you know that?” Thoma murmurs against your neck, sending shivers down your spine.
You lean into Thoma’s touch and turn around to face him. “I didn’t know that, actually! Wanna show me?” You tease, wiping your hand on the sink cloth.
Thoma dries his hand on the rag before tilting your head up and pressing his lips against yours, wrapping one arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. You grab Thoma by the collar of his shirt and pull him closer to you to the point where there’s no space between your bodies. The kitchen door creaking open forces you and Thoma apart, looking at the person who’s standing at the kitchen entrance.
“Oh! Hey, Dottore, what are you doing here?” Thoma asks, rubbing the back of his neck as heat rushes to his face.
Dottore narrows his eyes at Thoma before walking to the sink and putting his bowl in the sink. After he puts his bowl into the sink, Dottore turns to look at you and Thoma, feigning a disapproving look while crossing his arms over his chest.
Dottore chuckles. “Don’t you two think it’s a bit too early to be showing that much public display of affection in the kitchen of the estate? Anyone can walk in on you two at any moment aside from myself, of course,” Dottore says, sighing dramatically. 
You snort and give Dottore a cheeky grin. “You wish you were in Thoma’s spot, huh?” You tease, sticking your tongue out at him.
Dottore narrows his eyes at you underneath his mask before squeezing your nose hard. You groan and swat at his hands. You rub your nose and mumble incoherent words to yourself. While you hate to admit it, it was your fault for teasing Dottore that way. Maybe next time, you’ll make it worse for yourself by not letting the man get close to you until he apologizes (after you reluctantly apologize to Dottore for teasing him). Thoma glares at Dottore and walks you out of the kitchen, leaving Dottore behind. 
Usually, after breakfast, you would get ready for school. But since you’re on summer break, you have decided to job shadow your beloved boyfriends! If they’re okay with it, and it seems like most of them are okay with it, aside from the Harbingers. Which is understandable because they don’t want you to witness the things they do as Harbingers, and quite frankly, you’re okay with that!
You’re sitting in Diluc’s office at Dawn Winery, watching the man fill out paperwork and organize his desk. You didn’t have a task assigned by Diluc. The only thing he told you to do is just sit back and relax. Which is something you’re trying to do, but you can’t help but admire the way he looks while he’s working. Diluc’s fiery red hair is pulled back into a high ponytail, his coat is draped over his leather seat, and the sleeves of his button-up shirt are rolled to his elbows while he’s signing a few documents for the winery. 
A strand of red hair falls over his eyes, causing him to stop writing on the paper. Diluc stares at the strand of hair for a minute before blowing it away from his face. You hug a cushion to your chest and continue to stare at the redhead. The pen scratching against the document stops, and he looks up, the two of you making eye contact. You quickly look away, acting like you weren’t staring at him just a few seconds ago.
Diluc places his pen on the table before getting up from his seat. Your eyes widen as he walks in your direction, completely abandoning the documents that need his attention. Diluc stops before you, his legs brushing against yours as he reaches for your face, grabs you by your chin, and turns your head so you can look at him.
When Diluc turns your head to face his direction, your eyes wander somewhere else. Diluc sighs and bends down so his face can be in front of yours. You squeeze your eyes shut, fighting back the shit-eating grin that is making its way up your face. You feel a sharp pinch on your cheek, making you groan and crack your eyes open to see an unamused Diluc staring down at you. You rub the now throbbing area on your cheek, pouting to yourself. A faint smile appears on Diluc’s face before he caresses your cheek, stroking the jutting lip with his thumb. 
“Why are you pouting at me, hmm?” Diluc murmurs, raising an eyebrow at you.
You move your face out of Diluc’s grasp and rest your head on the cushion you’re holding against your chest. “You know why,” you mumble.
Diluc shakes his head, an amused smile appearing. “No, no, I don’t know why you’re pouting at me,” replies Diluc.
You and Diluc continue to have a staring contest with each other. Diluc keeps looking down at your pouty lips, squinting at them. “If you continue to pout like that, I’m going to kiss your pout away.”
You look at Diluc with wide eyes before pressing your lips in a thin line. Diluc snorts and leans in, pressing his lips against yours. You wanted to resist so bad, but you loved the feeling of Diluc’s lips against yours. Technically, you love feeling your lips press against the other men’s lips too, but Diluc has the softest lips out of all the men. 
You don’t know how long you and Diluc have been kissing, but the kiss was interrupted by the door to Diluc’s office opening. Diluc quickly breaks the kiss and turns to see who has entered the room, only to see that the person stepping into the office is none other than Kaeya. Diluc huffs and gets off the ground, walking back to his desk.
Kaeya chuckles, shaking his head. “My, my, distracted from your duties, are we?” asks Kaeya, raising his eyebrows at Diluc.
You speak up, “Hey! He was taking a much-needed break from work!” 
Kaeya turns to you before strutting over in your direction. Kaeya stops in front of you and pulls you up from your seat. Kaeya strokes your cheek and smiles, kissing your forehead. You blink at Kaeya, then peek over at Diluc, who is silently fuming that his brother ruined the moment between you and him. 
“And what you’re doing is considered a break for Master Diluc?” Kaeya teases, lightly booping your nose.
You nod robotically, making Kaeya chuckle. Without thinking, you wrap your arms around Kaeya’s waist and bury your face into Kaeya’s chest. Kaeya wraps his arms around your shoulders and looks at Diluc from over his shoulders with a smug smirk on his face. Diluc narrows his eyes at Kaeya before walking toward the two of you. 
Your voice is muffled against Kaeya’s chest, “My dream is to be sandwiched between Kaeya Alberich and Diluc Ragnvindr. I call it the fire and ice combo.” You look up at Kaeya, who laughs while cupping your cheeks, backing you up against someone.
You freeze in Kaeya’s arms and slowly tilt your head back as far it can go, only to make eye contact with an unamused upside-down Diluc. You blink at the redhead before quickly turning to look at Diluc, only to make yourself dizzy and stumble a bit. Diluc and Kaeya grasp one of your arms and steadies you.
“Anyway! Uh, Kaeya! What are you doing here at Dawn Winery?” You ask.
Kaeya opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by a knock coming from the door. The door cracks open, and Adelinde peeks her head into the room. Diluc takes a step from you before gesturing for Adelinde to enter. She gives Diluc a small smile before entering with a document in her hand. 
Adelinde clears her throat. “Apologies for interrupting your… conversation. You have another document to sign, Master Diluc,” Adelinde says.
Diluc’s ears turn red after hearing Adelinde’s comment. Diluc takes the envelope that contains the document from Adelinde’s hand before dismissing her. After Adelinde exits Diluc’s office, Diluc tosses the envelope on the table before turning to look at you and Kaeya.
Kaeya sighs before turning to you. “I guess this is my cue to leave. I do have some business to tend to at the Knights of Favonious headquarters,” says Kaeya.
You nod. “Okay! I’ll see you later back at the estate!” You say, waving to him as he’s about to leave.
Kaeya leans down and presses a brief kiss on your lips before exiting the office after nodding to Diluc on his way out. After the door closes behind Kaeya, Diluc sits in the leather chair at his desk, running his hands through his hair as he looks at the documents. You walk over to Diluc and wrap your arms around his shoulders, resting your chin on his shoulders while Diluc begins to sign each paper laid out in front of him.
Just when you thought you were going to get the sandwich you wanted, you thought wrong. Maybe next time won’t hurt if there aren’t any distractions or responsibilities that get in the way. You and the men are attached to the hip in many ways. Aside from you clinging to the men or the men clinging to you, they have subtle ways to show affection. Others, not so much— Childe and Itto are clear examples. They’ll proudly show how clingy they are with you by latching themselves to your side. Long story short, these men will try to find ways to be with you if they get the chance.
Venti is hugging your arms while you, Venti, and Zhongli are walking through Liyue Harbor to buy some groceries. It was fifteen minutes after having lunch with the two Archons, and Venti suggested making some Liyuen dish for dinner. You have frequently visited the markets in Liyue with Zhongli so often that people are used to seeing you and Zhongli together. Of course, they didn’t really bat an eye when they saw Venti clinging to you. Seeing you with each man was the norm now since they knew how clingy those men were.
“And that is how I almost died!” Venti concludes, grinning almost too widely for someone who was telling a lengthy story about the time Zhongli threw boulders at him.
Zhongli rolls his eyes, holding onto your hand as the three of you walk around the Harbor, going to the next market for ingredients. “Oh, please, Barbatos. You didn’t almost die,” Zhongli murmurs, his eyes scanning the nearby vendors. 
“Oh? And what happened to me then, blockhead? Care to explain to our precious [Y/N] what happened the day you nearly killed me?” Venti asks, giving Zhongli a teasing smile.
Zhongli lets out a soft ‘ugh’ while ignoring the bard’s teasing smile. You give Zhongli’s hand a squeeze along with a reassuring smile.
It wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to go shopping around Liyue Harbor with Zhongli. The men accompanying you while you’re shopping in different regions vary. Zhongli mainly keeps you company while you shop around the market. Sometimes, Childe would keep you two company, or Xiao would tag along when he had time. 
In Mondstadt, it would be Venti or Albedo that would tag along with you while you’re out buying something at the markets. If those two can’t tag along, then it would be Kaeya and Diluc if Diluc wasn’t busy with paperwork and signing documents. In Inazuma, Thoma is the obvious person that is by your side while you’re out in the City. If Thoma has duties to tend to at the Kamisato Estate, then Itto, Gorou, and Heizou will tag along with you and help you decide what to buy. 
And if you’re in Sumeru, Tighnari, and Kaveh are the ones that will tag along with you. You wouldn’t mind having Al Haitham, and Cyno keep the three of you company, but Kaveh and Al Haitham would bicker with each other while Tighnari is growing gray hairs from Cyno’s constant jokes. 
You look at the apples on the stands, tapping on your chin. “Zhongli, do you think we should buy apples?” You ask, turning to look at Zhongli, only to see that the spot beside you is empty.
You blink and search around for the former Geo Archon, only to no avail. Venti taps your shoulders to grab your attention before pointing at the stand ten feet from where you and Venti are standing. Zhongli’s standing at some booth, chatting with the vendor while looking at the items on display. Oh no. 
You walk away from the fruit stand, dragging Venti with you. “We need to put a bell on Zhongli. We can’t have him wander off without our knowledge,” you say.
“I think you mean a leash because a bell won’t do anything, Windblume,” Venti comments.
The closer you and Venti approached Zhongli and the vendor, the more you dread to see what Zhongli is planning on buying. Zhongli will purchase anything that catches his eye, and he wouldn’t check to see what the price is, no matter what object it is. Then again, that applies to you too, but you’re not as bad as Zhongli.
You tap Zhongli’s shoulders, grabbing the dark brown-haired man’s attention. “Zhongli! I look away for three minutes, and you wandered off this far already?” You ask, propping your hands on your hips.
Zhongli smiles at you and pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss on your head. “Apologies, dearest, but this vendor caught my attention. I couldn’t help but admire the items on display,” says Zhongli, gesturing to the small accessories on display. 
You look at the items in front of you, and now that you got a clear look at what Zhongli is looking at, you wonder why these items caught his eyes. They’re beautiful hair sticks made of the finest materials with intricate designs. Zhongli doesn’t wear hair sticks, and neither do you. The only person you can think of that wears hair sticks would be Baizhu. But you don’t think Zhongli is buying it for Baizhu unless he (or Baizhu) states it.
You poke Zhongli. “You’re not going to buy these hair sticks, are you? They look… expensive,” you whisper to Zhongli, making sure the vendor doesn’t hear what you say.
Zhongli hums, his eyes wandering over to a particular hair stick that stood out from the rest. “No worries, dearest. I don’t plan on spending Mora at the market today,” Zhongli reassures you, kissing your head once more.
You nod, satisfied with Zhongli’s response, while Venti eyes Zhongli suspiciously. “Good! Now, let’s return to the last stand because I need your opinions on the apples!” You say, gesturing for Zhongli to follow you and Venti.
You and Venti begin walking to the fruit stand, and Zhongli and the vendor make a quick trade before Zhongli follows you and Venti, pocketing the small gift bag that contains the hair sticks. When you’re dating twenty-five people, there’s no privacy, and you’re never alone. You don’t mind it since you’ve gotten used to it. Imagine being another person and stepping into the living room of the estate, only to see you sitting on the couch with other men crowding around you. You’re sitting on one of the men’s lap. Two men are resting their heads on one of your thighs while the others are sitting around you. It’s definitely a sight to see. 
“This is an interesting sight to walk into.” Pantalone chuckles, leaning against the doorway.
You look up from your book and wave at Pantalone while the men around you stare blankly at Pantalone. Pantalone smiles and waves in return before walking into the living room, eyeing the men sprawling around you. Recently, you and the men have bought new furniture for the living room at the estate, and the new furniture is an oversized couch that can be made into a bed. There are small ottomans that can be pushed together against the sofa, making it into a large bed.  
“So, what are you all up to?” asks Pantalone, kneeling on the edge of the couch.
You hold the book up for Pantalone to see. “I’m reading! The others are keeping me company, and they want me to read to them out loud,” you reply, patting each person’s head.
Dainsleif reaches for your hands and laces his fingers with yours. You give Dainsleif’s hand a squeeze while Dainslief pulls your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckles. 
“Do you want to continue reading, or do you want to stop for today?” Dainsleif asks, tilting his head back on your thigh. “It’s entirely up to you.”
You hum and lean back against Scaramouche’s chest, closing your eyes while Scaramouche runs his fingers through your hair. You have been sitting on the couch for a few hours now, and it would be nice to get up and stretch your legs. But you’re so comfortable on the couch with Scaramouche running his fingers through your hair while the men are scattered around you on the large sofa.
“I do need to stretch my legs. It’s been a while since I’ve stood up, but….” You trailed off, placing the book on the armrest of the couch and biting the inside of your cheek.
Scaramouche leans to the side to get a better look at your face, raising his eyebrows at you. “But what?” asks Scaramouche, continuing to run his fingers through your hair. “Do you want to get off the comfortable couch and stretch your legs or continue to sit on my lap while I run my  fingers through your hair?” 
You’re starting to feel numb from the waist down. No matter how comfortable you were feeling a few seconds ago, the numbness is starting to kick in, and you need to get up from the couch to walk around to get the blood circulating in your legs. You look at Scaramouche and give him a smile, patting his cheek lightly. 
“I’m getting up from the couch. As much as I would love to stay on the couch, I need blood circulating in my legs because they’re starting to become numb, and my butt is a little sore from sitting on your lap for a while,” you say, slowly getting up from the couch.
Xiao and Kazuha quickly rush to your side when you get off the couch. Both men grab one of your arms and steady you while you stretch your legs to get circulation back into your legs. You give Kazuha and Xiao a grateful smile, kissing their cheeks while continuing to kick your legs forward.
“Maybe you should walk around to get the blood flowing. I don’t think standing up is going to do much,” Kazuha suggests. “After all, not only were you sitting for a while, but there were people lying on your legs too.” 
You nod and gesture for the two men to start walking with you. You’re planning on walking inside the estate, but Xiao and Kazuha have different things in mind. They made you step outside of the estate for fresh air because, like they said, you were cooped up in the estate all day and had yet to leave the mansion.
“Do I have to walk outside of the estate?” You ask, slipping your sandals on while Xiao and Kazuha watch you mumble about wanting to stay indoors. 
Xiao crosses his arms over his chest. “You don’t have to walk outside of the estate, but you need fresh air. What is that saying again?” Xiao asks, stroking his chin, and looks at Kazuha, who shrugs his shoulders.
Baizhu leans against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. “I believe the term is ‘touch grass’?” Baizhu comments, raising his eyebrows. “If that’s the saying you were implying, of course.”
“Ah, yes, that’s what I was implying. Thank you, Doctor Baizhu,” Xiao says, nodding to the green-haired man.
You huff and reach for the door handle of the estate. “I can’t believe I was told to touch some grass by my boyfriends,” you mumble, opening the door and stepping out of the mansion with Xiao and Kazuha at your side. And thus, your journey to touching grass begins with your beloved boyfriends at your side every step of the way. Not only because they wanted to be supportive and be at your side at all times, but it’s also because they didn’t want to be far from you for too long—unless they were working.
A few days later, Lumine invited you to grab some lunch with her in Sumeru, and who were you to turn down the offer? You’re sitting across from Lumine, devouring your food while Lumine stares at you, her mouth agape.
You stop eating, wipe your mouth with the napkin and tilt your head to the side while looking at Lumine quizzically. “Lumine? You’re not going to eat?” You ask.
Lumine snaps out of her thoughts and gives you a small smile. “I, uh, I was distracted…” Lumine trails off, blinking at you.
You furrow your eyebrows. “What do you mean? Was I eating too fast?” You ask, reaching for the butter chicken.
The blonde girl shakes her head, clearing her throat. “No, no, I wasn’t distracted by you eating fast, [Y/N]. But….” Lumine trails off, tapping her fingers on the table.
You raise your eyebrows at Lumine. “But…?” 
Lumine gestures around you, taking a bite of the butter chicken. “You weren’t kidding when you said that you and your boyfriends are attached to the hip,” Lumine comments, licking her lips.
You blink at Lumine before looking around you. You completely forgot that the men tagged along with you to your lunch with Lumine. You’re so used to having the men tag along with you that it didn’t feel out of the ordinary. You look at the men sitting beside you, sipping on their drinks while eating the desserts. You smile at Lumine, rubbing the back of your neck.
“We are, aren’t we? To be honest, I didn’t realize they were with us until you pointed them out,” you say, turning to look at your boyfriends, who are happily snacking on the desserts the waiter would put on the table. 
Lumine blinks at you, grabbing her cup and taking a sip of her coffee. “They’ve been looming over you like those ominous clouds before heavy rain and thunder. I’m surprised you didn’t notice their presence until now,” Lumine says, resting one arm on the table while swirling her cup of coffee with the other. Lumine raises her eyebrows at Aether, who’s busy stuffing his face with Padisarah Pudding. Aether stops what he’s doing and stares back at Lumine, his cheeks stuffed with Padisarah Pudding— reminding you of a chipmunk with cheeks stuffed with nuts. You snicker and grab your napkin, wiping the corner of his lips before patting his head happily. 
Albedo tucks his hair behind his ear before scooping the rose custard with his spoon. “Perhaps [Y/N] didn’t notice our presence because they’re used to us being around them that it didn’t feel out of the ordinary,” Albedo suggests. “We have always left the estate together unless we’re going to work or school.”
Gorou nods in agreement, wrapping his arms around yours and snuggling up against you. You smile and pat Gorou’s head while continuing to eat your butter chicken. Archons, other than the men, you’d love to marry butter chicken if you could. 
You nudge Gorou with your elbow. “Do you want something to eat or snack on?” You ask, gesturing toward the food and desserts laid out on the table. 
Gorou shakes his head, his ears rubbing against your cheek in doing so. “I’m not exactly hungry right now,” replies Gorou, “Although I am thirsty.” Gorou reaches for his drink.
Lumine stares at you and the men before her, her eyes twitching. Every time when she tries to have some alone time with you, the men would always be with you. If it’s not all of the men, it’ll be some of the men tagging along with you. She can never hang out with you in peace without at least one or two men attached to your hips. It’s cute! Buuuuut as your friend, it does get annoying. Especially when one of the men that are attached to your hips is her very own twin brother. 
Ayato chuckles, leaning back in his seat while gazing at Lumine with an amused look on his face. Lumine looks like she wanted to punch them all. “What’s bothering you, Lumine?” asks Ayato, raising an eyebrow at the blonde girl in front of you. 
Lumine huffs, giving the Kamisato heir a fake smile. “Oh, it’s nothing, Lord Ayato! I was just hoping I would get some alone time with [Y/N]. You know, my best friend?” Lumine replies, narrowing her eyes at the twenty-five men before her.
Ayato lets out a thoughtful hum. “Well, perhaps next time you can spend time with [Y/N] while we’re at work! [Y/N] does get lonely when we’re tending our duties in our respective regions while they’re on their break from the Akademiya,” replies Ayato.
You nod while patting Gorou’s head with your unoccupied hand. You do get lonely sometimes when you’re not at the Akademiya while the men are at work. Sometimes they let you tag along, but most of the time, you don’t tag along because you know you’re a distraction. Imagine sitting inside the Grand Sage’s office while Al Haitham is doing his paperwork at the desk, and the next thing you know, your back is pressing against the bookshelves while making out with Al Haitham. That has happened more than once, and because the two of you were nearly caught, Al Haitham hesitantly concludes that this is the last time you’ll be at his side while he’s working. 
Capitano flicks his hair over his shoulders. “I don’t think it’ll be possible for you to get some alone time with [Y/N]. While most of us work in the mornings, some of us come home early to spend time with [Y/N],” replies Capitano.
Lumine raises her eyebrows at Capitano. “You guys leave work early just to come home for [Y/N]?” Lumine asks.
You look at Lumine with your mouth wide open in shock. “Should I feel offended right now?” You ask, looking at the men for confirmation. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Lumine laughs and waves her hands in front of her. “Wait, I didn’t mean for it to come out that way! What I meant is…. Do you guys really leave work early to see [Y/N]? It’s not a bad thing. I’m just curious!” Lumine says, propping her arms on the table.
Al Haitham nods. “Of course! I always look forward to coming home to seeing [Y/N]’s face,” Al Haitham says, looking at you with a smile. “Especially after a long day at the Akademiya dealing with the scholars.” 
You feel yourself blush at Al Haitham’s comment, playfully covering your face with your hands. Pierro rubs your head affectionately with a tiny smile. Who knew someone like you could make someone as intimidating as Pierro soft. Such a common yet cheesy trope. 
“Make sure to finish your food. You haven’t eaten anything today,” Pierro reminds you.
You pucker your lips and nod, continuing to eat your butter chicken while the men converse with each other, and Lumine taps her fingers on the wooden table. Lumine sighs and leans in her seat, tilting her head back.
“I hate how you guys are so cute and soft on [Y/N]. Although some of you are little shitheads to them that they would rant to me about how much of a shithead some of you are,” Lumine says, sitting up and staring directly at Scaramouche to let him know she’s talking about him.
Scaramouche glowers at the blonde girl, clenching his hands into tight fists. You laugh nervously and pat Scaramouche’s head while giving Lumine a pleading look. Lumine huffs and looks away, snatching the Padisarah Pudding from Aether before scooping the pudding with her spoon. Aether stares at Lumine with his mouth agape.
“Hey! It’s rude to take people’s food and desserts, you know! Where are your manners!?” Aether exclaims, glaring at his twin sister, who brushes off his question.
You wave the waiter over to order another Padisarah Pudding for Aether to eat while Aether silently sulks as Lumine continues to eat the rest of the pudding. Whoever is paying the bills, you’re hoping the amount of food on the table isn’t going to hurt their wallet. Unless everyone ends up splitting the bills and each person chips into paying the bill.
A few days later, Ningguang invited you to the Jade Chamber like how Lumine invited you for lunch in Sumeru. After all, it has been a long time since you and Ningguang have spoken to each other, and it’s a perfect time to catch up with each other. When Ningguang sent you an invitation to the Jade Chamber, Ningguang didn’t think much about it. She invited you to the Jade Chamber, and the two of you will catch up with each other while having breakfast before the both of you part ways to do your own things. Ningguang will continue her duties as the Tianquan of the Qixing while you’re doing whatever it is that you usually do.
Ningguang is sitting at the dining table, reading through the paperwork she brought with her to the table. While she was supposed to take a temporary break to have breakfast with you, there are still things Ningguang needs to skim over before breakfast. Ningguang looks up to see Baishi standing at the entrance of the dining room.
“Lady Ningguang, your guests are here for breakfast. They will be heading down momentarily,” says Baishi.
Ningguang smiles at Baishi and nods, dismissing her assistant. You were right on time. Ningguang gathers her paperwork and puts them in an envelope before getting up to place them elsewhere before you’re escorted to the dining room by her other assistants. Ningguang looks up when she hears a knock.
You peek into the room and smile at the Tianquan. Ningguang smiles and gestures for you to enter before turning her back to you to put her things away. Ningguang clears her throat, closing the cabinet with her back toward you.
“Good morning, [Y/N]. It’s great to see you again! I hope your journey to the Jade Chamber went smoothly,” says Ningguang.
“Good morning, Lady Ningguang! The journey to the Jade Chamber went well! Although the sight of the Jade Chamber never ceases to take my breath away,” you reply, sitting down at the dining table.
Ningguang smiles. “That’s great to hear! And please, [Y/N], I understand you’re at the Jade Chamber, but just call me Ningguang. No need for formalities!” Ningguang turns around and stops in her spot, looking at you with surprise. “Oh! I didn’t think you were bringing guests as well, [Y/N].”
Behind you stands twenty-five men— the same twenty-five men you’re in a happy relationship with. You give Ningguang a blank stare before holding up the invitation she sent out to you not long ago. Ningguang walks to the dining table and sits at the end of the dining table, crossing her leg over the other before gesturing for the servants to come over.
You clear your throat. “Lady Ningguang— I mean, Ningguang, sorry, it says ‘[Y/N] and friends’ on the invitation. I assumed you invited me and the men for breakfast,” you say shyly.
Ningguang stares at you with confusion before she holds her hand out in front of her. You get up from your seat, ready to hand the invitation to Ningguang, but Zhongli gestures for you to sit down. You reluctantly sit, letting Zhongli take the letter from your hands and give it to Venti. Venti walks to the Tianquan, handing her the invitation. Ningguang skims through the invitation, and lo and behold, you’re correct. 
Ningguang chuckles, putting the invitation on the table in front of her. “Oh, would you look at that? It seems like I mistakenly invited your boyfriends to tag along with us for our breakfast,” Ningguang says, leaning back in her seat.
Heizou clears his throat. “Does that mean we’re being uninvited?” Heizou asks, looking at the others awkwardly.
Childe clears his throat, shaking his head. “I hope not because that would be awkward,” murmurs Childe.
Ningguang chuckles and shakes her head. “No, no, I will not be uninviting you all after my mistake. Please, sit down, and breakfast will be out shortly,” says Ningguang.
The men start sitting at empty seats while the servants at the Jade Chamber bring out extra seats for the others that are still standing. Ningguang passes the invitation back to you while watching the men converse with each other around you and her. 
A few minutes later, breakfast was served, and everyone started digging into their breakfast. Usually, at the Jade Chamber, breakfast has always been silent for Ningguang. And since she has invited you over for breakfast, breakfast has been lively, with many conversations going on between each person.
“So, [Y/N], please tell me what you’ve been up to since our last meeting,” Ningguang says, wiping her mouth with a cloth napkin.
You reach for the cup of water, take a sip, and hum thoughtfully. “Well, recently, I have completed my third year at the Akademiya, and I am now officially on summer break. While I can take summer courses as well and graduate from the Akademiya early, I wanted to take a break for the summer because it’s been stressful. I need a break,” You reply, scooping up the eggs with your spoon.
Ningguang nods, tapping her finger on the table. “I see! And how is your relationship with your lovers? Are they treating you well?” Ningguang asks, raising her eyebrows at you and the men before her.
You blush and nod. “Our relationship is going smoothly. I couldn’t be any happier, and all of them make me happy and are the reason why I was able to be where I am today,” you reply.
“Aw! Onikabuto booboo bear!” Itto gushes, looking over at you with puppy dog eyes and a pout, his cheeks almost as red as his horns.
Ningguang looks at Itto with amusement. “An interesting pet name, I see,” Ningguang chuckles. “I was wondering something….” Ningguang trails off, eyeing you and the twenty-five men before  her.
“And what would that be, Lady Ningguang? I’m sure [Y/N] and the rest of us will try to answer your pressing questions,” replies Kazuha, smiling at the Tianquan.
Ningguang smiles at Kazuha, lifting her cup to her lips. Everyone goes silent and looks at the Tianquan curiously, waiting for her to reply. Ningguang takes a long sip from her cup before setting the cup on the table. Ningguang brushes her hair off her shoulders and looks at the twenty-five men and then at you, a small smirk appearing on her face while her eyes shine with mischief. 
“I was wondering if I’ll be receiving a wedding invitation soon. I and along with other people, have seen how attached to the hip you all are. Can I expect a wedding invitation soon?” Ningguang asks nonchalantly.
You blink at Ningguang before snickering. “I don’t know, Ningguang! Boys, should Lady Ningguang expect a wedding invitation soon?” You ask, smirking at the twenty-five men.
“Soon, but that will be a surprise for both you and Lady Ningguang,” says Ayato, smiling behind his cup of tea. 
The twenty-four men nod in agreement to Ayato’s comment while you stare at Ayato with your mouth agape. 
“What, wait? Are you implying that all of you have been planning on proposing to me—”
“Whaaaaaat? Who said that?!” Thoma interrupts you, sliding a plate of pancakes over to you with a fake smile. 
Tighnari clears his throat. “You should finish your breakfast, [Y/N]. I’m sure the Tianquan has important business to tend to after breakfast. We mustn’t keep her any longer!” says Tighnari.
You pout and shove slices of pancakes into your mouth while sulking over the men cutting off your question. It looks like they do plan on it but is unsure of when they’ll make it happen. 
Note: And finally, a somewhat long Genshin fic for this week! >:3 I might make a spin-off of the Genshin x HSR crossover I posted not long ago! It would be for either this upcoming week or during my finals week, but I'm not entirely sure yet 🤔 I might reopen my discord server in the summer. Might. I'm not 100% sure about it yet and will be discussing it with my mods before I make the full decision. Anyway, to my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!
Taglist for my Isekai'd!reader one-shot series and my overall taglist: @xyji, @chirikoheina, @yoru-trash, @kaoyamamegami, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @ins4nebish, @bokuto-kinnie, @exhaustedcommunist, @jadedist, @mompt2, @chalksdreams, @thelost-in-time, @ventisweetheart, @hispasian-otaku, @juuuuuj101010, @samarill, @testsubject0012, @irisxiel, @kazuhaprnt, @lunarapple, @emilymikado, @mabie, @vinnie-w, @n8mareee, @heyimkay, @eliciana, @blesstosuisen, @goldeneclipsedragon, @jjvr4yxc, @sovermike-21-blog, @vox34, @skyyyyackerman, @undecidingfate, @nightlysunn, @faeryminnyx, @simpcreator, @lucifarts-boxers, @thelovebuggs, @urlocalheizousimp, @sunlightstarr (Accounts that I was unable to tag have been removed. Those who don't want to be tagged in certain stories are not tagged in this particular post. Remember to check your settings if you're allowing people to mention you/tag you in posts or not)
Read more of my works on my Masterlist | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^
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violetngrey · 1 year
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# :: 𝒕𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 🫧 - 𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒂 𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒃 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒆
i could definitely rewrite this with a different mini obsession plot
part 2
charlie was big on making sure that the club always had a big meeting at least once every two weeks
discussing the latest movies and even the classics were an important part of keeping debates going and he always wanted to expand the number of members coming every week
however he only really noticed the numbers climbing in their ranks when a certain girl started frequently appearing at the back of the classroom to quietly sit and listen for the entirety of the clubs period
it took him a couple of visits to recognise the face but it was you
you sit in front of him in a couple of classes and after that day he couldn’t get you out of his brain
the way you fiddle with your hair when writing something down
or the way you cross your legs over each other when someone mentions a particularly gory scene in a movie
he found himself always looking over at you to see your reaction when he was at the front of the room talking
you barely looked up and even if you did it was when he wasn’t looking
always taking notes and smiling to yourself
the increase in cinema club goers after you is what surprised him
to him you weren’t the clique type or even the popular type
you hadn’t spoken a word to him or robbie since you’d started attending
most of the guys that would come to the club only to stare and gawk at you most definitely got grilled by charlie on movie questions he knew they had no idea about
he didn’t want them in here, not when he couldn’t even tell if it made you uncomfortable or not
his life goal for the club was to now ask these guys so many detailed questions and embarrass them so much that they didn’t even want to come back
cinema clubs numbers would suffer slightly but if that’s what it took
anything to just be able to keep you there as long as possible
robbie would mention you a couple of times after the club was out but after he didn’t get a very detailed reply from charlie he figured it was a sore spot
“how come you haven’t even mentioned kirby in a while man, did you get your dick cut off or somethin’? “
after you came in on a particularly hot day wearing a rather short skirt he really had to hide behind the front desk he normally stood in front of
as you started stealing glances at him and catching his back he really didn’t know what to do with himself
that day was the day he started stuttering like no other
after many weeks and most of the unwanted creeps gone from his club or mysteriously kicked out you stayed longer one day
after everyone had mostly cleared out, you stood up and quickly scribbled down a couple of words on a piece of paper and walked towards him
robbie ‘noticed’ before he did but let’s be honest he was just trying to play it cool in case you were just walking past
he didn’t think he’d be so nervous for just a tap on the shoulder
when he turned around all you did was hand him the piece of paper with a rose tint dusted over your cheeks
“I know it’s not a scary movie but it’s really interesting, from a women’s point of view- i mean” you left
charlie wasn’t one to be dumbfounded on more than just movies but you actually just spoke to him
uncrumpling the paper he found the words ‘10 things I hate about you’ and robbie laughed
the note also had a ‘-my favourite movie’ tagged onto the end with a heart
“you’re seriously not going to consider that movie are you?”
charlie facial expression didn’t change “it couldn’t hurt could it?”
robbie didn’t go home happy that day
he ended up going home and watching the movie twice over just so he could do everything possible for the next day
cinema club was concerned for their president the next day as they’d never reviewed a non horror film before why not a cheesy romance
“c’mon charlie what’s up with the film choice”
“hey i take suggestions you guys just never give them”
after the session was over he carefully walked over to your desk
“y’know i actually liked that movie”
you laughed “ you don’t have to lie to me to talk to me”
charlie had never blushed so hard
the club president wasn’t just obsessed with horror it seemed
please request more things so i can get writing again!
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aohisworld · 8 days
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BROKEN CD
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ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ when the world picks on Aohi, she crumbles gently, and Ri-ki’s there to put her back together, piece by piece.
ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ nishimura ri-ki x addedmember!oc. mentions of poly!ot7 x addedmember!oc, contains. cringe writing, angst (as always).
| : ̗̀➛ MINTIE’s NOTES: a little self-indulgent because I feel like poopoo honestly 😞 I apologize if this mini- drabble? fic? Is short, I really barely have any time to write to my pieces, and I can only offer you guys these small little fics 😭
| : ̗̀➛ WARNING! How I write ENHYPEN is not meant to portray the idols irl, this is my au and I write this for fun.
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✧. ┊    No one’s a stranger to the familiar feeling of coming back down from a successful peak, the sudden feeling of clouded thoughts or the slow burn-out of your sociality or productivity being a familiar dull sting to your body and mind.
And sometimes you can’t understand just why you have to burn out, and with that comes along frustrations, anger, the tantrums inside your mind when nothing goes your way when you’ve already had a bad day.
Aohi’s world dulls to grey for a little while, the exhausting schedule and the upcoming recording for memorabilia took a lot out of her.
All she wanted was to sleep, maybe for a week straight, if she could, she’d hibernate like a bear. Aohi knows she can’t though, engenes would miss her too much.
Despite her frustrations with the slightly wrong tones or the wrong words being sung out, she trudges on, continuing to work, to rewrite, to practice.
She’s repaid by the loss of her voice, and recording’s been pulled back a week later due to the sudden situation. Aohi sits in her seat speechless when her manager explains it on the way to the studio.
“But then, why am I going if I’m being put on vocal rest?” Aohi’s voice croaks out. In a comical way, she sounded like a Justin Bieber when he was in his teens, cracking and going airy from time to time.
“I didn’t want you to come in either, but the studio was insistent on it,” Aohi groans, despite how hurtful it was on her throat. “Trust me, I tried to fight for a day off, all I could do was move your session to a later time tomorrow.”
“I can’t even do anything at the studio, the whole point of a vocal rest is so I could rest!”
“First off, stop yelling, don’t use your voice-“ Her manager looked up at the rear view mirror, shooting her a glance that told Aohi to fix her attitude.
"Second, just get through this recording, it'll be over before you know it.."
Aohi just rolled her eyes, feeling already irked that she had to come in today. Aohi stared out the window as she ended up tuning out her manager’s voice and locking herself inside her mind.
There wasn’t much to do for her especially when she had a sore throat, even if she could, Aohi doubts her current health would even be able to keep up with anything.
“Aohi, let’s go.” Her manager could be heard unbuckling her seatbelt, Aohi following. Aohi grabbed her phone and opened her car door, squinting at the bright sun.
Her instant response to the sudden rays was to put up her hoodie, entering the studio.
“Batsy!” Sunoo chirps, reaching for the girl before any of the other guys could call for her, and with her call, Aohi gravitates towards Sunoo, his arms taking her in like a cuddly bear.
“I missed you..” Aohi mumbled into his clothes, and Sunoo just hums and kisses her forehead, “gonna keep with the PDA or are we actually recording?” Xiulin amusingly spoke from behind the two.
And it would’ve been funny, if Aohi hadn’t hissed back at her. “Unnie, respectfully shut up.” Aohi replied with a hoarse voice, and Sunoo was taken aback by her sudden reply. Xiulin must’ve been as well, looking at Aohi with widened eyes.
Aohi’s furrowed brows seemed to soften after realizing the stunned faces across the room, and she sighs, pulling away from Sunoo.
“Sorry, unnie… i just… don’t feel well.” Aohi walks into the studio booth trying to rubbing her temple with a frown. Xiulin was still waiting out her aftershock as she just watched her dongsaeng walk away.
“What’s her problem?” Ri-ki pointed his thumb at Aohi inside the booth, looking towards the boys who looked equally confused. “I know manager-nim said she wasn’t feeling well… but she’s never snapped at me like that before.” Xiulin frowns at the booth door, rubbing at her neck in discomfort.
“It’s okay noona, I’m sure Aohi just didn’t feel up to the teasing, you know how she is..” Jungwon tries to ease Xiulin’s feelings, patting the older girl’s back to comfort her.
“We’ll talk to her, don’t worry.” Sunoo added, giving Xiulin a gentle and reassuring smile as the group trailed into the booth.
Aohi sat in one of the couches, trying keep to herself, quietly playing on her phone. The boys looked to each other, trying to figure out how to approach the girl without already irking her more than she already was.
“Heeseung-ssi, Xiulin-ssi, we can record your lines now.” One of the producers called the eldest of the hyung and maknae line to come in, and Xiulin glanced at Aohi, who glances at her and Heeseung.
Aohi quickly darts her gaze back onto her phone as she tries to focus on her games, trying to get the day to go by faster.
Xiulin sighs, looking towards Heeseung who was already waiting by the booth, he mouths to her as if to tell her, that the boys will handle it while they’re gone, and not to worry too much.
Jay decides to make a move towards Aohi, sitting beside her with caution. Aohi squirms at the sudden dip in the couch, but refuses to look up anyway.
“Batsy.. look at me, baby..” Jay encouraged, his hands gently reaching for her tense ones. “You want to tell me what’s wrong?.. we just want to help, Aohi, baby.” Aohi feels rather suffocated in Jay’s hold, and she knows he doesn’t mean to cage her in, but she feels like she can’t breathe.
Aohi shakes her head, trying to pull away from his hold, and Jay’s eyebrow twitches, his first indication that something was worse than just annoyance or tiredness. She mumbled something that Jay couldn’t decipher, he leans even closer.
Jay knew that even if Aohi was annoyed, she’d never turn down any of his hugs, even going as far to tell him that he’s the best at cuddling besides Ri-ki.
“Look at me, Batsy.” Jay reaches for her face, his gentle fingers barely touching her cheeks when Aohi slaps them away. “I told you to leave me alone!” Aohi’s voice croaks loudly, and Jake stands up from his spot in the room.
Her hand reaches to push Jay away, who seemed hurt at the way Aohi raises her voice at him. Despite being scolded by Aohi before, it never sounded worse like it did at this moment.
Aohi’s hand is stopped by Jake’s hand around her wrist, and her attention’s turned from Jay to Jake, trying to pull her wrist away from him.
“Let go!”
“Aohi, that’s enough! We’re just trying to help you!” Jake holds her tighter, and Aohi squeezes her eyes tight, letting out a sob. “I don’t want your help!” Aohi stands up from her spot, shoving Jake away.
Jake toppled over a few instruments, hissing at the impact. “Hyung!” Jungwon and Sunghoon quickly stood up, rushing to Jake’s side. Aohi’s breath hitches, and she sniffles, glancing around, Sunoo and Ri-ki looking at her with disbelief.
Aohi could feel her heart beating with intensity as she only looks for her only escape, running out of the room to the front door.
She has no idea where to run, but her legs certainly aren’t stopping, Aohi doesn’t register which way she goes, turning all sorts of corners, and the sun blinding her.
Soon enough, her body stops running, and Aohi has no clue where she is, she sits on a random bench, the area seemed deserted, some patches of weed growing through the brick path she ran down on.
Aohi brings her legs up on the bench, and she remembers that she’s left her phone at the studio with everyone else, and the air doesn’t do much to calm her.
She digs her face into her knees, and she could feel the familiar sting of tears in her eyes and she squeals into her knees, as if angry that she’s crying.
Aohi has no idea why she’s been so upset lately, maybe she needed to be alone for a while, or maybe Aohi felt like the world hasn’t been so nice to her lately. She’s tired, so tired.
Aohi just wanted to rest for a little while, and she can’t do that when her company wants her to go to these recordings despite putting her on vocal rest.
Aohi can’t afford to go home right now either, for one, she has no clue where she is and Aohi knows that she needs a ride to even get back to the apartments.
She only whimpers, and lets herself cry into her arms, pitiful sobs leaving like a lullaby from her lips. Aohi’s back shakes as her sobs continue, and she realizes that she can’t even stop herself or quiet herself.
And in an ironic way, the world sends a somewhat comforting breeze to her side, despite being certainly mean to her the couple of days, Aohi takes the breeze with gusto, sniffling as she’s blanketed with the wind.
Aohi cries her pretty little heart out in a deserted part of this random park, and she cries and cries until her eyes tire out, Aohi can feel the creeping tiredness loom over her as her eyes don’t fight the urge to close, to get sleep.
She just lets it happen as her eyes blanket her vision with darkness, and she sniffles once more, the need to sleep heavy and she doesn’t fight.
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The sun’s starting to come down, and Aohi can barely register the muffled call of her name. Aohi could feel the approaching headache from dehydration, obviously from crying her eyes out the previous hours, but she looks up anyway.
“Aohi.. wake up, damn it..” Ri-ki curses, and he sits beside her balled figure on the bench, he runs his hands through his hair, sighing out of worry and concern.
“nini…” Aohi mumbled out, and her voice is still coarse, maybe even worse than it was the last time Ri-ki heard it. Ri-ki stops himself from softening at the nickname she calls him, one that she got from other fan accounts on Twitter, thinking it was adorable.
“Do you know how fucking worried we were?…” Ri-ki breathlessly spoke, and he gently placed a hand on her cheek, his eyebrows furrowed. Aohi whimpered, digging her cheek into his palm anyway.
“I’m sorry, nini…” Ri-ki curses under his breath, and he takes off his jacket, placing it over Aohi’s body, he felt the alarming heat of her body on his palm, he stands up from the bench and takes his arms under Aohi’s knees and supporting her back.
He lifts her up with a huff, carrying Aohi bridal style. “Don’t think just because you’re sick means you’re off the hook for running like that.” Ri-ki walks down the familiar path, the sun was going down and soon enough, he won’t be able to see the path out of the deserted park.
“You worried the fuck out of everyone… Jay and Jake were out in the cold for hours, you left your phone so we couldn’t even…” Ri-ki blinked his tears away, the worry and the thought that something could’ve happened to Aohi overwhelming him.
“We couldn’t track you down, and who knows where the hell you could’ve gone?…” Aohi, despite being too tired out of her mind and sleepy, felt guilty anyways, she felt stupid for running then, and she still felt stupid now.
“I don’t know what I would’ve done if I couldn’t find you… hell, what would we tell the engenes? you hate disappointing them..” Ri-ki grits his teeth, it takes a little while for them to regroup with the others, and Ri-ki had gone silent from walking for a bit and he finally walks out to a familiar path, seeing the boys and Xiulin waiting anxiously by the van.
“You found her!" Heeseung sighed in relief, jogging up to the two, Aohi seemed to knock out on the walk, and Heeseung reaches to check on her.
"She's burning.." Heeseung curses, and he walks to the van and opens the door, "Let's get her home before she gets worse." Sunoo agrees, nodding as he climbs into the vehicle, helping Ri-ki climb in with Aohi in his hold.
"Careful.. she's going to bump her head.." Sunoo whispers, placing his hands on her head, looking at Aohi with worry in his eyes.
The boys and Xiulin are silently driven home by their staff, and they all apologize to the staff member for keeping them waiting as Ri-ki, bowed, before walking up to the apartment.
"Ri-ki-yah.. I can carry her.." Sunghoon offered from beside him, and he shakes his head, just continuing to walk up to their dormitory, which Jungwon opens for the youngest.
"Wait! You should bring her to our dorm, I can't take care of her from your dorms.." Xiulin voiced, and the boys turn to her, "Noona, don't worry about it, I'm sure you're tired, me and the hyungs will take care of her." Ri-ki shoots their eldest girl a reassuring look, and Xiulin can't help but sigh.
"But-" Jay shakes his head, asking Xiulin not to fight them on it, "You can trust us, Xiu, don't worry." Xiulin softly frowns, but she couldn't go up against seven boys, even if she wanted to.
"Okay, just.. make sure she gets some rest..." Xiulin reaches over and places a small kiss on Aohi's burning forehead, a quiet goodbye as she recovers in the boys' dorms.
The boys and Xiulin part from the stairs, and Aohi's brought into the boys' dorms, they all have separate rooms now, the countless complaints from singer to manager had worked, and given them some sort of privacy.
Ri-ki makes a quick move to place her onto his bed, tucking her with record-breaking speed, trying to keep her warm, feeling Aohi shiver all throughout the car ride.
Despite his worry, he still feels sour about earlier, knowing Aohi wasn't feeling well, and her mood was not best, did not excuse the fact that she ran off, and for hours they couldn't find her.
"I'll go grab a rag for her fever.." Sunoo whispers from beside Ri-ki, patting the youngest's back in comfort before leaving the room. The rest of the boys seemed to follow after Sunoo, quiet excuses pouring from all of their lips.
"We'll get dinner started, make her some food.." Jay and Jungwon walked out together, and Sunghoon runs his hand through his face, "We'll give you some space.." Heeseung pulls Sunghoon with him, who seems hesitant to leave Aohi's side.
"How could you be so reckless, batsy?" Ri-ki whispered, his tone scolding. For once, he was babying Aohi without any complaint. Well, not that she could anyway. "I thought something had happened to you.. and I wouldn't of been there..."
Ri-ki sat by her side for a while, he repositioned to the ground, gently rubbing his thumb against Aohi's palm. A calming gesture for both of them. He quietly watches Aohi's sleeping figure, and despite the underlying cringe from him, feeling creepy for watching her, he couldn't help but worry, truly.
"...I would've lost it.. batsy, I need you," Ri-ki whispers, and it seems like every time they were by themselves, he starts to speak in Japanese, like he's at his most vulnerable with her. "I need you like water, my love.." He continues his sentence, hoping she'll awake for a little bit.
Like a miracle, Aohi twitches from her sleep, and she lets out a quiet groan, her eyes fluttering from her nap, and she's faced with the familiar ceiling of Ri-ki's room. She calls for him with a broken voice.
"Nini..." And Ri-ki makes a move, sitting up on his knees to coo at her silently, "I'm here, lovely.." He feels Aohi's hand squeeze his, and he feels himself relax. Ri-ki is relieved, comforted by Aohi's presence.
"Why.. would you go look for me..?" Aohi croaks from her spot, looking at Ri-ki with a hurt expression, and he's almost confused on why she would ask such a question. "Why wouldn't we?.." Ri-ki tilts his head, his thumb makes comforting swipes at the back of Aohi's hand.
"You could've gotten sick.. stupid.." Aohi tries to flick up at Ri-ki's forehead, and he shakes his head, making her drop her hand. "I don't care about getting sick, I care about finding you." He replies, and Aohi sighs, turning her head from Ri-ki to the wall.
"I hate when you say stuff like that.." Aohi whispers, and Ri-ki is confused, sure, his words would fluster the girl, but her? Hating such words from him when she was as affectionate as him?
"Why? You and I both know it's true," Ri-ki responds, and Aohi makes a move to almost throw a slight action of defiance. "And that's what I hate about it, I hate that you're willing to break your back as long as I'm with you.."
"And it's the same for the other boys, and I love that you love me so much," Ri-ki listens, despite his dislike for where the conversation was heading, "and I love you all the same, if not more, but I hate that you'd disregard your own well-being for me.. I wish I wasn't that important to you.. any of you."
"How could you say that?" Ri-ki asks, standing up from his spot and sitting on the bed, and Aohi sits up from her spot, "Ri-ki, how could I not? Hell, you gave me your jacket even when you knew it was cold.."
"You're always bending over backwards for me, and I wish you'd be a little more concerned with yourself." Aohi looks towards him and Ri-ki furrows his eyebrows. "You're the same way."
Aohi stays silent, "It's the way I am.." Aohi fiddles with her fingers, looking down at her lap. "And so what? You think we should just take and take, and you get nothing in return for yourself?" Ri-ki assumes, and Aohi looks to argue, to deny, but words don't come out of her mouth.
Ri-ki waits for a reply from Aohi and when she doesn't seem to speak, he continues. "What's the point of us dating you if we'll just be selfish while you break like this?" Aohi still doesn't reply, and she knows there's nothing she could say to fix her words, and what she meant.
"Are we even your boyfriends that way?" Aohi finally moves from her spot, "Of course you are! I just don't want you to be so consumed with being with me that you just.." Aohi brings her hands to her face, "It feels like you have to take care of me all of the time, and I'm just.."
"I don't want any of you to help me because it's not your job, I should be able to do this myself!" Aohi sobbed, and Ri-ki feels angrier than before.
“if you didn’t want any of us to help you when you’re crumbling like this then why are you still dating us?!” Ri-ki yells, and it’s the first time in a while that Aohi had heard him so loud.
Aohi blinks at him and for once she’s surprised of the way Ri-ki stared at her with angry tears. Ri-ki was angry at her.
“Are you angry at me?…” She whispers, and Aohi doesn’t miss the way her voice quivers as she asks this to Ri-ki who turns away from her.
“You don’t know how much it hurts when we see you like this… when I see you like this.” Ri-ki sobbed, his fists grab at his hair, and Aohi makes a move to stop him, knowing it’ll hurt.
“I feel like the worst fucking boyfriend when I see you fall apart like dust and I can’t help you.”
Aohi doesn’t say a word more, unable to reply. Her tears cascaded down her cheeks and she pulls Ri-ki into her arms. “I’m sorry.” She repeats like a mantra.
And it seems like Ri-ki breaks alongside Aohi, and she starts to think that maybe the world was a little too cruel on both of them, or maybe she was being too cruel on him, on all of them.
how could she fix this now?
"I'm sorry nini... I didn't mean to make you feel like that.. I just... feel awful and I've been too cruel.." Aohi holds Ri-ki tightly, and she could feel her hoodie starts to dampen with the boy's tears.
"I'm so sorry... I feel like the worst girlfriend to you... you don't even know nini.." Aohi hugs Ri-ki like she could never let go, and she knows she would never.
"Then help me know, I want to, let me understand, let me help.." Ri-ki begged from her, and Aohi feels worse than she already did.
Aohi places a gentle kiss on his forehead, continuing her apologies. Ri-ki seems to cry for forever he felt like, he just couldn't stop, and his fingers had gone red from how tightly he held Aohi in his arms.
"You don't deserve such a cruel girl like me.." She whispers, lifting Ri-ki's face, wiping at the streaks on his cheeks, and with a quiet voice, Ri-ki speaks, "I want you anyway, I'll always want to be with you, even if you don't."
"How did I score someone like you, hm, nini?" Aohi laughed through her own tears. "I don't know, but you're never getting rid of me." Ri-ki replies, before taking Aohi's cheeks in his hands and laying a gentle kiss on her lips.
The two's lips intertwined like perfect puzzle pieces, Aohi's hand reaching to cup Ri-ki's in a warmth he'll never deny. Aohi thinks that she could never get used to how warm Ri-ki's lips were, always comforting her in ways she could never do herself.
The two pull away, and Aohi almost chases after Ri-ki, already missing him so close to her.
"...I love you, so much." Aohi spoke after a while, using her hoodie sleeve to wipe at her nose, and Ri-ki laughs, grabbing a tissue from his bedside, "Don't wipe it on your hoodie, batsy.."
"I really do love you though, you know that right?" Ri-ki smiles, and nods, wiping at Aohi's tears. "aigoo... you big baby.." Ri-ki kisses at her nose, and Aohi squeals at the ticklish feeling.
"You cried too! I'm not the only big baby!" Aohi retorts, gently slapping Ri-ki's shoulder, the two continued to giggle for a little before they quiet down, the only evidence of their silly behaviour being their smiles.
"Don't ever be scared to crumble, we'll be here to pick you back up... just like you are for us.." Ri-ki hugs her tightly one more time, and Aohi's never felt as loved as she was with the boys, and it makes her realize how much she could never actually live without these boys.
"So.. how does soup sound?"
"Sounds lovely, nini."
"Good, you're going to have to apologize to Jay-hyung and Jake-hyung, they've been sulking since this afternoon." - "Oh... about that.."
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newtthetranswriter · 8 days
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Hi, I saw that your ATLA requests are open again! Could I get a Zuko x f/reader, where they were childhood best friends until he was banished? The reader joined the avatar after running away and now they meet again for the first time? And they kinda hate each other and fight but at the same time avoid hurting each other? Thanks!!
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Word Count: 1388
Paring: Zuko x reader
Warnings: Canon typical violence, probably ooc zuko (it’s my first time writing for him)
A/n: I’m so sorry it took so long for me to finish this. I kept trying and had to rewrite it multiple times cause I wasn’t happy with how it was turning out, but I think it’s good now. I hope you enjoy and remember to hydrate or diedrate.
A/n2: I just wanted to add that I changed the timeline slightly. Zuko was still banished at 13 but instead of Aang being found when Zuko is 16, he’s found when Zuko is 18.  Also, yes I know they run into Zuko after the fortune teller episode but it was just the best spot I could work reader into joining the Team.
    Being the daughter of Ozai’s closest advisor gave some pretty great perks, like growing up alongside Prince Zuko. Zuko and I were as close as two friends could get, we would spend most of our time together avoiding Azula and feeding the turtle ducks. When we weren’t playing we were practicing our fire bending together, again being a high ranking advisor's kid got you a lot, including lessons with the royal families firebending  teachers. For the longest time it was me and Zuko against the world, but alas all good things come to an end. Shortly after we turned thirteen, Zuko was invited by his father to a war council meeting where he spoke up against a general’s plan. Having offended his father Zuko was subject to an Agni Kai where Ozai burned him and then banished the young prince, sending him on a wild goose chase for the Avatar.
    I tried to go with him but Zuko pushed me away telling me I need to stay safe in the walls of the Palace. I had, at the time, agreed, but after two years of watching the ‘Great Fire Nation’ destroy the world, I had enough. One night when I knew ships bound for the Earth Kingdom were docking to pick up new soldiers, I snuck out of my room in the palace with only a change of clothes and snuck onto one of the mini ships. I stayed hidden on the ship for days, sneaking food from the kitchen when it was empty at night. The first stop the ship made outside of the Fire Nation, I took my chance and fled into the Earth Kingdom.
   I spent three years moving around different villages in the Earth Kingdom, mostly avoiding any signs of the Fire Nation. If a village I had been staying in got attacked I would leave. It may sound bad but if I stayed to help, I’d only end up back in the Fire Nation and likely executed for treason so the best choice was to keep moving whenever they got close. Although that plan changed when rumors of the Avatar’s return started to surface. Taking the information as a sign to start fighting back, I packed up what little things I owned and left the town I had been staying in.
  Spending a few weeks following sightings of the Avatar hoping to catch up with him eventually. I miraculously managed to catch up with him and his friends when they were helping to protect a village from an erupting volcano. After assisting them, I explained that I had run away from the Fire Nation and wanted to help them end the war. It took a lot of convincing but they eventually agreed to let me join them on their journey to the Northern Watertribe.
   After a couple of weeks of flying, making stops for food and letting Appa rest, we eventually made it to the Northern Tribe. Not long after our arrival in the north, the Fire Nation attacked. After trying to take out the ships on his own, Aang decided he needed to go into the spirit world in search of help. Joining Aang, Katara, and Yue, I positioned myself near the entrance of the Spirit Oasis ready to be the first line of defense in case anyone tries to stop Aang. 
   I zoned out of the conversation Katara was having with the Princess as she was just explaining that as long as no one moved Aang’s body everything would be fine. Right as I was about to agree with Katara for saying we could protect him, I heard a voice that I thought I would never hear again.
   “Well, aren’t you a big girl now.” Sure, his voice was deeper and void of any emotion other than anger. I knew it was him. Moving closer to Katara, I motioned for Yue to run and continued to watch my old friend’s confrontation with my new friend. I could hear a quiet ‘no’ leaving Katara as she realized someone was here to take Aang. “Yes. Hand him over and I won’t have to hurt you.” Zuko said, getting in a fighting stance.
   Katara responded by also taking a fighting stance. Using the distraction of the two of them fighting I moved to place myself in front of Aang so no stray attacks could hit him. Normally when fighting firebenders I would step in, but seeing as it’s currently the night I know waterbending is more powerful and so I let Katara deal with Zuko. I watched in amazement as Katara used a wave of water to push Zuko up a wall and then freeze him there. 
   After trapping Zuko, Katara ran to make sure Aang was ok. While she was distracted, I felt a slight increase in energy come from my bending, knowing that it was likely day break I turned back to where Zuko had been trapped. “Katara stand back and keep an eye on him.” I said getting in my own fighting stance. She let out a confused sound as a blast of fire was sent directly at her. Acting quickly I deflected the attack.
  “You rise with the moon … I rise with the sun.” Zuko said not paying attention to the fact his attack missed.
   Taking his momentary pridefulness as an opening, I sent my own attack his way kicking a stream of fire at his legs effectively knocking him down. “So do I dipshit.” I said as he jumped back to his feet, confusion written across his face. “Surprised to see me? Now if you want to get to Aang you have to go through me.” Getting ready for a counter attack. When one didn’t happen I took another shot, sending a ball of fire towards him.
   Snapping out of his confusion, Zuko quickly deflected. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be safe, back in the Fire Nation.” He asked, not bothering to fight back. 
   “I haven’t been in the Fire Nation for three years, Zuko. I left after all that happened to you and then watching the Fire Nation kill thousands of innocent people, I couldn’t sit and watch them destroy the world for no reason.” I explained, sending attack after attack his way. “You of all people should understand that your father doesn’t care about the innocent lives lost and just wants to keep this war going.”
   Up until mentioning his father, Zuko only deflected my attacks. But as soon as the Fire Lord was mentioned, he sent his own volley of attacks my way, though for some reason it felt like he wasn’t giving it his all. “How dare you speak poorly about my father. He gave you so much, let you learn fire bending from the same masters who only teach royalty, let you live in his palace, and here you are saying he just wants an endless war.” 
   Rolling my eyes, I continued to send attacks his way. After what felt like hours, but was probably only twenty minutes, Zuko got the upper hand. He sent a well timed blast at my stomach as I was trying to catch my breath. It wasn’t strong enough to burn or leave any lasting damage but just enough to knock what little air I had out of my lungs and send me tumbling to the ground. While I was down I heard Katara start to fight back but it was quickly followed by the sound of her also hitting the ground. Still trying to catch my breath I sat up and watched as Zuko grabbed Aang and ran.
   When Sokka and Yue entered the Oasis, I couldn’t help but feel that it was my fault Aang was taken. I listened as Katara explained that we had both tried to fight him off but he got the upper hand and knocked us both down. When Sokka turned to look at me, I just shook my head. Not wanting to face the fact they all now knew I have history with Zuko and were probably thinking I pulled my punches because of it. Turning away from the group as they decided it was best to go after him and find Aang, I declined, not wanting to be caught pulling my punches against Zuko again.
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bitchin-tubs · 8 months
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Potential redesigns for Lucifer and Lilith +old concepts of Lilith!!!
So for my rewrite I had planned that Hell was originally barren with only Lilith and a few monster demons of hers like God and his angels would be in Heaven.
Unlike God, Lilith didn’t have a ruler/soldiers dynamic and only created a few demons out of boredom but overall she was greatly feared for her anger and incredible strength.
Once Lucifer was vanished for his rebellion against humans he was sent to Hell as punishment being that it was planned for him to be alone and isolated for eternity. Upon finding him, Lilith was initially enraged for disturbing her wasteland but Lucifer fell in love with her and her ability to create creatures that, in his eyes, were far superior to humans. Admiring her for not letting her talents go to waste, unlike God.
Lilith never having experienced niceness before was flattered and fell for him as well, sharing her ability to create with Lucifer. The two living in a honeymoon stage for millennials until a few lower ranking angels are sent to Hell as well for being followers of Lucifer’s ideals.
Lilith not pleased to have the newcomers to her proximity decides to grant each their own ring as a canvas to do as they please with it. Each angel then adopting a deadly sin and few portions of the original demons crates by Lilith migrating with them, creating their populations and cultures along with the Sins.
(Debating whether to implement a Pride Sin or just having the ring all for Lilith&Lucifer)
Lilith is not fond of strangers, and once sinners start spawning into her lands she’s more than upset. She bares through it knowing that Lucifer enjoys his position as ruler but regularly visits Purgatory to escape the population.
Lucifer notices Lilith discontent but misunderstands the the reason for it, thinking that Lilith misses his full companionship and so he offers to create a demon with their shared blood (?) as to have a “mini-him” when he’s busy and to replace him as full time King once it grows.
They “conceive” Charlie who grows noticing Lilith’s dislikeness to crowds and Lucifer’s love for ruling. Siding more with her mother over the years, Charlie comes up with the idea of rehabilitating sinners to send them to Heaven, declining the Hell population. Her father takes this as her belittling her position as princess and future ruler and while Lilith appreciates the sentiment, she also agrees it’s delusional.
But at the end, her parents do fund Charlie’s passion project in hopes to humor her long enough for her to realize it’s absurdity and focus on her real Royal duties. They got no hurry after all.
Roll the series
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