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chimcess · 3 months

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Waterlog || pjm (1)

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

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

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

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

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

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

With an annoyed sigh, he nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s great to hear,” He smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She thought for a second before replying.

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

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

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

“Drive safe. See you in a bit.”

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

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

“Love you,” She sing-songed playfully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hiding behind humor was a pastime.

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s young, ain’t he?”

I nodded, “23, I think.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dani beamed, “Daddy said the same thing.”

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

“Your dad’s a smart guy,” I joked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s starting,” Hoseok announced.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I shrugged, “Ledecky is a great swimmer.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. Night, Chika.”

“Night, Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Crystal!” They all replied in unison.

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

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

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

“Butterfly,” Jordan replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Always cutting to the chase,” He joked.

I did not laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is my team.”

“And this is Jimin Park.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?” A soft voice called out.

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

“Yeah, can you see me?”

I shook my head, “Just your icon.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you see me?” He asked.

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

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

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

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

“No worries. I’m not in any rush.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Could’ve fooled me,” I teased.

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

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

“Talk to you later, Park.”

“See you, coach.”

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

Jimin: 👶

I did not respond until I had my flight booked.

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

He replied a few minutes later.

Jimin: Do you need a lot of space?

Me: Not really

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

I smiled. He really was a sweetheart.

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

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

Jimin: I was raised to respect the elderly.

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

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

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

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

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

First work then play, I told myself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Andy snorted, “He means well.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I pulled a face, “Audrey?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She smiled sadly, “I think you can.”

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

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sounds like we have company!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” I quickly followed behind him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hope the concert was nice.”

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

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

“Hey,” I replied lamely. “Eloise?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How old are they?” I asked.

“Almost 4.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t look very impressed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your hip might give out, granny.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I put your stuff in your room.”

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now I felt like an asshole.

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

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

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

That made him laugh, “What? Why?”

I shrugged, giggling with him.

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

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

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

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I nodded, “See you.”

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

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

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

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

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

"Likewise," I replied.

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

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

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

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

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wilbursprincess · 3 months

Text

Arranged Marriage With Princebur

Princebur x Reader

Warnings: Sex, mentions of sex, angsty towards the end :D

Hi Tumblr. I wrote this as a ‘crack fic’ (mostly just self indulgent) but was so proud I figured you all deserved it too :) If you’ve read parts 1-4 of my Princebur headcannons, then this is familiar, but if not, you’re in for a treat! This is very loosely inspired from one of my favorite books of all time, ‘The Giver Of Stars’ by Jojo Moyes.

Fic below cut!

When my parents sat me down one day, I knew the news couldn’t be good.

The king and queen of my country were getting older, and all the newspapers were talking about their son, Wilbur, soon to take over the throne, wondering who would be his bride. I’d seen him, a black-and-white photo adorning these articles, and secretly felt sorry for whoever he’d be forced to marry. The royal family was big on arranged marriages. How else would they get more heirs to the throne?

“We’re going to the castle for tea,” my mother explained briskly. “The queen was aware you’re her son’s age, and-”

“Wait, wait, wait,” I interrupt, gaining a sharp glare from my father. “You want to marry me off to a prince?”

My father smiles, though it’s far from warm. “Well, hopefully, if they take liking to you.”

“Have you considered I don’t want to be forced into a loveless marriage, just to be a vessel for heirs to the throne?” I say, both my parents’ gazes turning stony.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” my mother snapped. “It’s a great honor to marry into the royal family. Wilbur’s a good man. Handsome, even.”

Sure. Wilbur’s handsome, if you like the snobby prince look.

“Go get ready,” my father adds, getting up from the table. “Wear your nicest dress, and try and do something with your hair. It looks like you rolled around in a barn.”

“It’s so lovely to meet you,” the queen simpered, giving me a watery smile. “You look lovely. Just like a future princess should.”

Lovely?

The corset my mother cinched me into was so tight, I couldn’t take a deep breath in, a trickle of sweat running down my back. My best shoes hadn’t been worn in over a year, and they were slightly too small, with a blister already forming on my heel. The heavy makeup caked on my cheeks and eyelashes felt thick. Maybe this was why all the royals looked miserable all the time.

“Thank you, ma’am,” I say, forcing a smile when my mother nudges me under the table. “These cakes are delicious.” That wasn’t a lie, however, my father had stopped me from taking more than one. Probably on the grounds that it wasn’t ‘ladylike’.

The queen forces another smile. “Our cooks here are very talented, dear. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger when you marry Wilbur. They’ll wait on you hand and foot.”

I force my face into what I hope is an impressed expression.

I might complain about the chores at home, but I’d be bored silly without them. What would I do, just sit around all day? And wait, wait, did she say ‘when’?

“Did you say, ‘when’ she marries Wilbur?” My father says, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.

The king nods. “We did. Your daughter is exactly what we’re looking for in a bride for our son. She has lovely composure, perfect manners, and we can tell Wilbur’s already taken a liking to her.”

I sneak a glance over at Wilbur, who gives me the tiniest smile. Begrudgingly, I had to admit he was vaguely handsome. Sharp jawline, refined features, slightly messy brunette curls, and sparkling deep brown eyes.

Maybe this won’t be too bad.

“They’ll make such perfect babies,” my mother adds, the queen nodding her agreement. Snatching my eyes away from Wilbur, I pick up my now-lukewarm tea to hide my embarrassment.

Nevermind.

“So it’s agreed?” My father asks.

The king smiles. “It’s agreed. We’ll get to wedding planning right away. Everyone loves a good royal wedding. It’ll bring the country together.”

I’d never seen such a ridiculous waste of money before. The newspapers were eating up any tidbit they could about the wedding, and all the headlines made me groan.

‘Wilbur’s bride-to-be rumored to walk down the aisle in a pure silk gown!’

‘The royal family reported to be buying the future princess an entire wardrobe of velvet and silk, complete with jewlery to match!’

‘Royal wedding to be decorated with thousands of roses!’

I did my best to avoid looking at the bold headlines on the papers that piled up on my kitchen table.

My parents were over the moon, helping me pack up my belongings in preparation for moving into the castle. Or, rather, they were deciding which of my belongings belonged in the castle.

“Why would you bring such an old dress? They’ll just buy you a new one.”

“Those shoes are dreadful. A princess should only be seen in heels!”

In the end, I ended up with just a suitcase of clothes, shoes, and the occasional personal belonging my parents let slide.

My mother decided to teach me all about how to raise children, complete with handing me a satchel of all my old baby clothes and teaching me how to pin a cloth diaper on an old teddy bear. She also had to give me ‘the talk’ about how I’d go about having these babies, which left me horrified.

“Don’t give me that look,” she snapped. “It’s natural. It’s how you were made.”

My father took it as his responsibility to teach me about royal etiquette. He’d once worked as a servant, and had decided it was up to him to drill everything into my head.

“No! Head up, shoulders back, heel-toe walking.”

“You sip tea with your pinky finger out! And stop slouching!’

Honestly, if they were sending me off to work on a farm, I’d be more excited.

“You may now kiss the bride!”

I force myself to stay calm as Wilbur’s rough lips brush mine, and the entire church errupts in cheers and applause. It was sealed. I was now a princess.

Wilbur offers me his arm, and I take it, letting him lead us back down the velvet-covered aisle. I force myself to relax and smile, waving elegantly to the people in the pews, just as my mother drilled into me.

He helps me into the shiny new carriage, drawn by two shiny white horses, flicking their braided tails. More velvet on the inside of the carriage, all the metal features pure gold.

“Is ‘congratulations’ appropriate?” Wilbur says, breaking the very tense silence.

I shift against the seat uncomfortably, the lace edges of my gloves chafing my skin. “I think so.”

“Well, then, congratulations,” he adds, slightly awkwardly. “And sorry.”

He’s sorry?

“What are you sorry for?” I ask, finally looking him in the eyes.

Wilbur sighs. “You didn’t ask for this. Neither of us did, actually, but you especially.”

The heavy silence is even worse when the entire country seems to be cheering us on.

“I promise I’m not that bad,” I offer, and Wilbur cracks a smile.

Neither of us speak for the rest of the ride, and when we arrive at the castle, two men dressed to the nines open the doors. I go to hop out, but Wilbur gently stops me.

“I’m supposed to help you,” he whispers softly.

Luckily, the photographers didn’t seem to catch my slip up, and I accept Wilbur’s hand to step out onto the grounds of my new home. My heels are hurting my feet, and I’m exhausted, but I fix a smile on my face and walk through the grand front doors.

“Well, happy wedding night, darling,” the queen says, kissing both my cheeks with a flourish and handing me a paper-wrapped package. “Just something to make tonight better for you both.”

I accept with a smile, trying not to think about what the package is, before turning and heading up the main staircase to Wilbur and I’s new bedroom.

Wilbur’s not in the room when I walk in, so I flop into the middle of the bed and cautiously unwrap the package. Something small and silky slips onto the sheets, and I unfurl the bundle to see a baby-pink, silk nightgown, the deep neckline and hem lined with lace. I hold it up to my body, seeing it barely reaches my knees.

The door opens, and I drop the nightgown, turning around to see Wilbur carrying in a massive amount of packages.

“Wedding gifts,” he explains, setting them down next to another huge pile I didn’t notice earlier. “Mother wants us to open them before we go to bed. And I have a suspicion-” he indicates a lot of tiny parcels. “-that I know what these are.”

Wilbur tosses them all to me, grabbing several himself before joining me on the bed to unwrap them.

“It’s shoes for you,” he says, handing me a pair of dainty red heels. “What’s in that one?”

I rip open the package and sigh. “A hat for a baby.”

He nods, opening the next one. “Some jewelery for you.”

“Baby shoes and socks.”

“An evening gown.”

“A baby blanket.”

“Some cufflinks.”

“Baby clothes.”

Wilbur gently stops me before I reach for the next one. “I’m detecting a theme.”

“Me too,” I sigh, showing him the nightgown. “Your mother gave me this.”

His dark eyes widen. “Thats…” he trails off, swallowing. “A nightgown.”

“Uh, yea,” I reply. “It’s a nightgown.”

Another awkward silence.

“Look,” Wilbur says, starting to gather up the gifts. “It’s been a long day, and we’ve still got something to do before we can get some sleep. I’ll clean up here, you go get ready, ok?”

Something to d- oh. That.

I nod, grabbing the nightgown and scrambling for our bathroom.

The nightgown is certainly… something.

It seemed far too inappropriate a gift from my now-mother-in-law, as I look at myself in the mirror. Everything is covered, sure. Just barely.

The lace scoops dangerously low in the front, raising dangerously high at the back, and is so thin, it leaves nothing to the imagination.

Now I see what she meant.

There’s a sharp tap on the door. “You ok in there?” Wilbur asks. “You, uh, ready for bed?”

“Yea, I’m good,” I lie. “Just, uh, putting on the nightgown.”

A solid 5 seconds of silence.

“Can I see?” Wilbur’s voice comes out a lot more desperate than either of us was expecting. “I mean, if it’s ok with you-”

When I open the door, his eyes widen, taking in every single inch of silk, lace, and skin. “You…” Wilbur trails off, eyes everwhere but my face. “It’s definitely a nightgown.”

My face burns. “It is.”

“You go get comfortable, and I’ll, uh, get ready.” He says, trying to sound casual.

The bathroom door shuts behind him, and I get into our new bed. The only upside is that our bed is massive, so it’s not like I’ll be spooning the guy every night.

I blink open my eyes as the bathroom door opens, and my new husband walks out in nothing but a pair of striped silk pajama pants, sitting low on his hips. He gets into bed next to me, hesitantly setting a hand on my thigh.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Wilbur murmurs, a caring note in his voice I hadn’t heard before. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

I feel a new but welcome warmth blooming in my chest, both from the pet name and something else I can’t quite put my finger on. “I’m ready.”

Imagining what would happen on the wedding night, and actually doing it, were two different things. Two very different things.

I expected him to do what he needed to do pretty quickly, roll over, and we’d both go to sleep. Something I’d just lie there through.

Oh God, was I wrong.

There was something otherworldly about our two bodies becoming one, so strange, but so welcomed. It made heat pool between my thighs, pleasure bubbling up between our entwined bodies.

I couldn’t tell if Wilbur was enjoying it, but the noises he was making… soft groans and whines. They were like music to my ears, adding to the tightening in my core, something I’d never felt before, but I never wanted it to end.

The spiral low in my stomach kept tightening, ecstasy running over my body as he kept rutting into me, tightening until it snapped. And when it snapped, radiating out from the apex of my thighs, it was like I was on cloud nine, floating in the clouds, far above the castle, the country, and the planet.

I’d barely recovered from the wave of pleasure that slammed into me when Wilbur lets out a loud moan, burying his face in my shoulder as I felt my inner thighs suddenly wet. The only sounds in the room were mine and Wilbur’s shaky breaths, trying to collect our composure once more.

“If that didn’t work,” Wilbur murmurs, panting. “Could we, uh, do it again?”

I’ve been living in the castle, married to my husband, and a princess for a month now. I still wasn’t quite used to it. Gone were the days I pitched in around the house and could come and go when I pleased. Now, I sat around in a castle, wearing lace, silk, and velvet dresses that made me feel frumpy. All there was to do was sit in the library and read. I’d loose myself in leather-bound tales, about far-off and imaginary lands, trying to wish myself to live between the worn pages instead of here.

“I’ve washed your nightgown for you, ma’am,” one of our housekeepers says to me, dropping off a loud of laundry in our room, thankfully interrupting the conversation the queen was trying to have with Wilbur and I. “I couldn’t quite get the menstrual blood out of it, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, it’s no issue,” I reply, face burning as I take the neatly folded pile, avoiding the gaze I’m sure the queen was giving me. “Thank you.”

The queen shakes her head, continuing knitting something that looked, suspiciously like a hat for a baby. “It’s ok, dear,” she says, forcing kindness into her voice. “Maybe next month Wilbur will do his job.”

Wilbur snorts into his tea, making his mother give him a very stern look. We make eye contact over the rim of the mug, warmth blooming in my chest.

He’s on my side.

“That hat looks nice,” I say to hopefully break the awkward silence.

The queen grimaces. “It’s a sweater for a newborn,” she says briskly, making Wilbur hide his laughter with a pretend coughing fit. “Wilbur, are you ill? Why are you coughing.”

“I’m fine, mother,” he lies, gulping down the rest of his tea. “Why don’t you head down to the sitting room and let me and my wife spend some time together?”

She immediately brightens up. “Oh, yes, of course,” she says, packing up her knitting and giving me a wink. “Good luck, you two.”

The second the door shuts behind her, Wilbur groans, burying his face in his hands. “Does she only care about you as some sort of baby-vessel?”

I sigh, wringing one of my carefully-folded dresses in my hands. “I think so.”

Awkwardly, Wilbur leans over, carefully putting a loose arm around my shoulders. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t think of you like that.”

Blinking up at him, I feel a heat spread through my face. “Thank you, Wilbur.”

“Of course,” he murmurs, brushing a lock of hair out of my face. “So the… blood, it means you’re not pregnant, right?”

I nod. Wilbur’s face, inexplicably, breaks out in a grin.

“That’s good news?” I question, and he nods. “But, your parents-”

He shrugs dismissively. “Look, I had about as much of a choice as you did. Just because I have royalty in my blood, it doesn’t mean I like it.”

“You don’t like being a prince?” I reply, shocked. “Whenever I see you in the papers, you seem to like this life.”

Wilbur laughs, shaking his head. “That’s called ‘acting’, darling.” The pet name makes my face flush, though it’s not unwelcomed. “And now I’ve somehow dragged you into this mess.”

“At least we’re both equally unhappy?” I offer. “I promise I won’t mention this to anyone else. We can get through this.” I hesitate before adding the last word. “Together.”

Nodding, Wilbur brushes his lips against my cheek. “Together.”

“Wilbur, are you alright?” I ask, walking into our room a few nights later to see my husband sitting on the edge of our bed, looking pensive. “What happened?”

He sighs, patting the blanket as an invite for me to sit. “Mother’s been complaining to the staff about not getting her grandchildren yet. Apparently, she got pregnant with me the night she married my father, and saying I’m not living up to the family legacy.”

“Oh.” As much as I hate myself for it, my core tightens deliciously at the thought of Wilbur and I’s wedding night. “I’m sorry. I… parents.” I awkwardly finish.

“Parents,” he agrees. “So, uh, if you’re down, do you want to, y’know, try again?”

I nod immediately, a little embarrassed by how eager I look. “Sure.”

Wilbur awkwardly chews on his lower lip. “Did you… enjoy it? Last time?”

“I did.” I whisper. “Did you?”

He kicks his toe against the plush rug our bed sits on. “More than I should admit,” he murmurs. “I’ve read a lot of books in my years in this castle, so naturally, I’ve read about… that. If my parents knew I found those books, they’d be horrified.”

Surprisingly, I hear myself giggle. “Why would they be horrified about you reading about how to give them grandchildren?”

“Because those books don’t exactly see it as something for having babies. They see it as something to bring you closer to your partner, something that feels good.”

We’re both silent for a few moments.

“So, since you want to do it again…” Wilbur continues. “I know how to make it better for you. Do you still want to?”

I find myself nodding before the words even leave his mouth, reaching down to pull off my top. I’m left just in my bra and skirt, Wilbur’s eyes running all over my exposed skin.

“Can I take your bra off?” He whispers, cupping my breasts through the fabric. Even the hint of his touch makes my stomach tighten, and I nod.

His hand reaches around to my back, struggling with the clasp for a good few seconds before it pops open. Eyes wider than dinner plates, Wilbur rubs a thumb over my nipple until I groan.

“That’s good, right?” He asks anxiously.

“It’s good,” I reply, shimmying my skirt and tights down my thighs. “Do you want me to lie down, or-“

Wilbur nods, pulling off his shirt and reaching for the zipper on his pants. Just the motion of unzipping his pants makes the apex of my thighs throb.

When I look up again from taking off the rest of my clothes, he’s fully naked, chest heaving. I’d never seen him like this, and it’s not unwelcome.

“Tell me if this hurts, ok?” Wilbur whispers, tracing up my thigh and fumbling around a little before finding a spot that makes me gasp. His long fingers circle around and rub the little nub, the pleasure so intense my legs go weak.

“Oh my,” I manage to gasp out, that lovely tightening in my core getting stronger. “Please… don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replies, speeding up his touches and looking slightly smug at my blissed-out expression.

My hand grasps at his wrist so I can rub against his fingers, the ever-tightening spiral threatening to snap…

…And it snaps.

I close my eyes tight as I let out a long, low moan, hips bucking up against Wilbur’s hand as I ride it out, floating up in the clouds again.

“Safe to say that felt good?” Wilbur’s voice brings me back down to earth, and I’m disappointed when he pulls his hand back. “It’s going to get even better, I promise.”

While I’m still wondering how on earth he managed to do that to me with just his fingers, I feel him pushing himself inside me, everything so much more sensitive this time, and it’s wonderful. We groan in unison, his face buried in my shoulder.

“Can I move now?” Wilbur asks.

“Please,” I reply, wrapping my legs around his waist to steady myself. This lets him push in even deeper, putting pressure on the spot he’d been touching earlier.

Wilbur’s a lot less gentle this time, and a lot more vocal. A lot. Our hips snap together, and I let myself move with him instead of laying still.

“So good,” he murmurs in my ear, breath hitching. “So good, sweetheart.”

I wasn’t expecting another moment on cloud 9 for the second time in one night, but when the familiar feeling builds up again, I practically feel like I’m floating. It’s different than earlier, deeper and more intense, but just as welcome.

The second high is just as intense as the first, my back arching as I ride it out. Wilbur’s not far behind me, sighing as I feel my bare stomach suddenly wet.

“Sorry, I kind of…” he trails off awkwardly, grabbing his shirt off the mattress and wiping up the mess. “This is awkward.”

“You’re good,” I murmur sleepily, absolutely exhausted from the night’s activities.

Surprisingly, Wilbur cleans both of us up, climbing into bed and pulling me into his chest to cuddle.

“This ok?” He asks, and I sleepily nod.

He drifts off to sleep, but I stay awake, wondering why exactly my arranged husband could make me feel things like this.

Life keeps dragging along. Wilbur seems more distant and secretive, hiding envelopes in his pillowcase and burning letters before anyone else can see them. My mother-in-law keeps insisting I join her for tea every afternoon, which essentially means being extremely nosy and overbearing for an hour or two, drilling me on everything from how I carry myself in public to her ever-lack of grandchildren. My dresses keep disappearing after I hand them to the staff to wash, Wilbur blaming it on his mother.

One evening, I walk into our bedroom to see Wilbur in his warmest coat, a suitcase open on the bed, and two envelopes sitting next to it on the bedspread.

“I’m getting you out,” Wilbur says, smiling at me with indifferent eyes. “I’ve packed you some casual dresses and shoes, stuff nobody will notice missing. There’s money in that envelope, and a letter to my friend. He lives over the border on a farm, and he’ll find a place for you.”

I expect to feel a wash of relief, getting my life back, but no. All I feel is a tugging at my heart, a pang of sadness.

“You’ve got 10 minutes. Grab anything else you need, and I’ll take you as far as the border,” Wilbur continues, avoiding my eyes. “I’ll sneak downstairs and wrap up some food for you.”

While he’s gone, I quickly glance around, slipping the books on my nightstand into the suitcase. Wilbur’s done a good job packing my things, leaving behind the gaudy dresses and tasteless jewlery, slipping in my most-worn dresses and comfiest shoes. I change out of my nightgown and slippers, packing them and slipping on a warm dress, boots, and my heaviest coat. Fat snowflakes were falling from the sky, a chilling wind rattling the windows of the castle. This wasn’t going to be fun.

“Here,” Wilbur whispers, making me jump and turn around. “I couldn’t get much, but there’s some bread and apples. It’s better than nothing.”

He closes the suitcase, grabbing the woolen cap off his head and pulling it over mine. “Wrap this around your shoulders,” he tells me, handing me the thick blanket off our bed. “If we leave now, you’ll be out of the country by daybreak.”

I do as he tells me, nestling into the blanket as he wraps a heavy scarf around my face. “Grab your suitcase, and we’re leaving.”

I watch, dumbfounded, as Wilbur pulls open the window and leaps onto the steep shingled roof. “I’ll help you,” he promises, taking my suitcase and my hand so I can climb out. I lean up to shut the window.

There’s no going back now.

We walk all night in the frigid, unrelenting wind. My face, hands, and feet are numb, and I can’t recall ever being this cold before.

His friend hasn’t arrived at the meeting spot yet, so we settle into the shelter of a massive holly bush to try and rest our weary legs. Wilbur takes off his coat, placing it over my lap, and wraps me in his arms. Finally, I let myself cry, the hot, salty tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt.

“You’re ok,” he murmurs, tightening his hold on me. “Once you leave the country and forget about the past months, you’ll be ok. Your life is just beginning.”

All I can do is nod, continuing to sob into his chest. I couldn’t even begin to verbalise that the tears weren’t for our country or my old life, they were for him.

The time we spend in the shelter of the holly bush feels like an eternity. Just as the sun gives hints at appearing over the horizon, we hear the bumping of a cart, the snorting of a horse, and I know it’s time to go.

Wilbur loads my suitcase onto the cart, settling me down in the scratchy hay and nestling blankets around me. “I’ll be back,” he whispers.

I hear him and his friend exchanging a few words, the envelope being handed over, and Wilbur’s footsteps coming back towards me. To say goodbye.

“Take care of yourself, Wilbur, ok?” I say, trying to hold back the tears running down my cheeks. “What wil your parents say?”

“That doesn’t matter. Please, forgive me,” he begs. “Forget everything we did, forget the past months. I’m giving you your life back.”

He wipes away the endless flood of tears, kisses me on the cheek, and steps off the wagon. His jacket is still over my lap, and I press my face into it, his familiar smell washing over me.

The reins snap, the horse and cart rattling down the cobbled road, heading away. Away from my home, away from the castle, and away from Wilbur. Ahead? Whatever lay over the border. I had food in my suitcase and more money than I’d seen in my life. I’d find a way.

My eyes close, Wilbur’s face swimming over my closed lids, and I force the image away.

“Wait!”

I snap my head up as the cart rattles to a halt.

“Please, wait!”

It was Wilbur’s voice.

Dumbfounded, I watch as he comes running up the road, not slowing down until he reaches the cart, practically leaping into the hay and wrapping his arms around me.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he sobs. “Please let me come with you. I’ll leave my country, leave my chance at the throne, whatever it takes to stay with you. I love you.” His face is pressed against mine, slick with both our tears.

“Don’t leave me again,” I manage to say through my tears. “Please don’t leave me again.”

“I never will,” Wilbur promises. “I want to spend the rest of my life by your side.”

The cart continues to make its way down the road, every step taking us closer to our new life. Our new home.

Wilbur and I’s new life is everything I’d ever dreamed of.

Once we made it across the border, we moved into a tiny cottage in the middle of the woods on a couple acres of farmland. Wilbur ended up sneaking my most valuable jewels into the bottom of my suitcase, which we promptly sold to afford some things for our house.

Coming from a life of luxury, being waited on hand and foot, to living on our own in a one-room cottage was a shock, to say the least. Wilbur really stepped up, teaching himself to cook and clean so the housework wouldn’t all fall on me. With the money from the jewelry, we bought a bed, kitchen table, two chairs, and some linens. It was all we had, and all we needed.

I taught myself to farm fruit and vegetables, as well as bake bread and make jams out of our harvests. Wilbur bought a cow, thinking we could get a decent amount of meat from her, but got too attached and ended up naming her Daisy.

“It’s a real farm now,” he said proudly, stroking Daisy’s forehead. “But doesn’t she look a little lonely?”

The next addition to our farm was a chicken coop, laying us plenty of eggs for breakfast. At Wilbur’s suggestion, I bought some flour and sugar, and used some of the butter I made from Daisy’s milk and eggs from the coop to start baking bread and cakes.

I went to the market every week, selling my homemade bread, cakes, and jam, which brought in a significant amount of money. For now, our family was complete…

…Until Wilbur showed up one morning with a skinny stray dog, looking very proud of himself.

“She can guard the farm for us,” he announced, scratching her behind the ears. “She can eat scraps, too.”

Princess, as she came to be known, did not end up guarding the farm or eating scraps. She slept in Wilbur and I’s bed each night, licking the pan clean from dinner or chowing down on scrambled eggs that Wilbur made for her.

“This certainly beats the castle,” I murmured to Wilbur one night as we lay in bed, Princess fast asleep between us as the fireplace crackles.

He leans in to kiss my forehead. “It does. I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too.”

#princesswrites #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x reader #mcyt x you #wilbur x you #princebur #wilbur angst #wilbur soot smut #bursona smut #wilbur smut #dsmp smut #mcyt angst #wilbur mcyt #mcyt x reader #mcyt smut #princessfics

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m-musings · 5 months

Note

HIII

im actually so excited omg i dont wanna sound mean actually the opposite but you write for a couple of pretty dead fandoms and im just so happy to see new writers for them.

can i request hcs for rotg (either jack frost, or bunnymund, or pitch, whoever you like. maybe the three of them??? idk go nuts show nuts) with a grim reaper reader? thanks! :D

Headcanons: Jack Frost, Pitch Black and E. Aster Bunnymund with Grim Reaper! Reader

A/N: anon I'm dying at go nuts show nuts, that's the funniest shit i've read in a while but anyways yeah, all 3 sounds good to me lmao. also, I wasn't sure if you wanted platonic or romantic so i just kept it on the friendly side, i hope that's okay!

Word Count: 450 Warnings: mentions of death/ dead people

Jack:

Jack is a bit wary around you at first simply due to the nature of your job.

But once he sees just how gentle and kind you are with the souls you reap, he's back on board with getting to know you.

As he gets more comfortable with you, he'll definitely make fun of you like he does with the other guardians but he does it with love!

Jack will occasionally accompany you when you're reaping a younger soul. His presence seems to calm them down if they begin to panic, even if they sometimes can't see him.

If you ever get a break from reaping, he will invite you to participate in one of his famous snow day snowball fights as a way to forget about the sadness that sometimes comes with the responsibility of being a being of death.

He's still the excitable and reckless Jack Frost but when you're around, he's more mellowed out and - forgive the pun- chill to hang out with.

Pitch:

Pitch is intrigued by you from the start.

While he may control people's fears, it is a rare occasion for him to actually interact with one, let alone one as important as the personification of death itself.

He knows just how powerful a reaper can be so he is always sure to treat you with the respect you deserve.

The one time Pitch tried to convince you to join him against the Guardians, it ended with a scythe pointed at his neck and a stern scolding from you, so he doesn't bring that subject up around you anymore.

Pitch actually enjoys spending time with you though, he feels that your presence is much more tranquil and calm than that of the other spirits he knows.

He can be maniacal and full of himself but deep down he has a strange admiration for you and the job you do.

Bunnymund:

Bunny has known you for a long time and has come to highly regard you as an ally.

You two mesh well together, because without the deaths you take watch of, he wouldn't be able to help bring new bouts of life into the world.

He refuses to see any of the souls you may bring around The Warren though, it makes him kind of squeamish.

He will occasionally help you wrangle up a lost soul or two but it's very uncommon for him to be around during the actual reaping.

Bunnymund and you do spend the most time together just because your roles are so interconnected with one another (Guardians of Life and Death and all that).

All in all, You and Bunny are very close knit and have a great respect for one another.

#rise of the guardians #rise of the guardians imagine #jack frost x reader #bunnymund x reader #pitch black x reader #headcanon

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yuukiiqwq · 1 month

Text

Dandelions: Sukuna Ryomen x Reader

His heart beats only for you while yours beats for someone else, so he made a wish on a dandelion, hoping it would come true.

Context/Warnings: Fem!Reader, Soft!Sukuna, swearing, unrequited love, flower language, a bit suggestive

Wc: 2.7k

Part 2

It's not like he wanted to fall in love with you. It was actually your fault. You weaseled your way into his life and then his heart. If only you had left him alone, then none of this would have happened. But you were too god damn stubborn to leave him alone. It was all your fault.

It was so stupid how he fell in love with you. Sukuna absolutely hated cliché stuff. And here he is going through the stereotypical cliché plot. He even told you how much he hated it. He remembers telling you how he rather die than read those stupid romance books you like to read. They were full of stupid plot with disgusting mushy feelings. Basically, it's the same thing in every story. He always felt like his ears were going to fall off listening to you talk about those stories. Recently, you started to read this one-shot called Dandelion. Something about a guy having unrequited feelings for a girl for years and the girl liking someone else.

Absolutely fucking ridiculous.

Sukuna remembers how he met you. It was a few years ago, back when they were still in school. He was minding his own business and then you fucking popped out of nowhere. He wouldn't tell you but you scared the shit out of him when you suddenly appeared.

"Yknow, smoking is bad for you."

He turned around to see you at the door smiling.

"Y'know, not minding your own fucking business is bad for you," he scoffed. "Get out of here. This is my spot."

You walked up to him and snatched the cigarette away. You tossed it onto the ground and put out the light.

"They can cause many health problems," you say as you crossed your arms. "And I don’t see your name anywhere on this rooftop."

He glared at you– "Listen here, you brat. What I do has absolutely nothing to do with you. So skip along to your friends and go bother them instead."

"What if you are my friend?" You said smugly. Your eyes were shining with mischief. "And since you said to go bother my friends, that's what I'm doing."

"You must think you're so fucking funny," he snarled at you.

You put your hands on your waist– "I am actually very funny."

He took a step towards you and towered over you. "Leave."

You looked up at him with a deadpan expression.

"No."

"Last warning. Leave."

"Make me."

News flash – He wasn’t able to get rid of you. He was unsuccessful no matter what he did.

You decided to bother him every single god damn day. Somehow, you always showed up at the rooftop whenever he was there. You just wouldn't leave him alone, so he decided to ditch the rooftop. To say he failed was something he didn’t want to admit. He didn't fail. He just decided to ignore you. But then you showed up in front of his classroom. You somehow found his classroom.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance and quickly tried to leave before you could catch up to him.

Mission escaping the brat– failed.

You were a fast little thing. You immediately caught up to him and were now walking side by side with him. This caused a lot of people in the hallway to stare at both of you. You two were an unexpected duo to see together.

"Sukunaaaaaaa"

Great. You even found out his name. Amazing. Whoever told you his information is dead. He's going to kill them.

"Sukuna, if you keep looking like that, you'll end up being super ugly. No wonder you don't have a girlfriend."

Sukuna turned around to face you– "You trying to pick a fucking figh–"

He wasn’t able to finish his sentence as you stuffed a mochi in his mouth. Where the fuck did that mochi come from?!

He quickly chewed the mochi and swallowed.

"Did you fu–"

"Was it good?" You quickly interrupted. "It's a new flavor that came out recently. A friend gave me some to try."

"I don't car–"

"It was a limited edition sale. My friend camped outside the shop for a whole day just to buy all the stocks."

You continued talking about it, and Sukuna wanted to just smack you. You were so annoying.

"I am going to smack you if you keep talking."

You immediately stopped talking and walking. You looked up at him and grinned mischievously.

"Wow, Sukuna. Didn't know you were kinky like that. It's ok, though! I like it rough, but take me out to dinner first. Bedroom activities can come later~"

This caused him to explode in anger. You were teasing him. He immediately stomped away from you. He could hear you laughing as you tried to catch up to him. Fuck. You were annoying as hell. Sassy and challenging him in every way.

Your eyes were gleaming with mischief. Did you have to say that? Now he wanted to put you in your place. Bend you over under him and–

Oh fuck. Now you implanted a curse in his head. Fucking minx.

After months of you constantly pestering him, he grew used to your presence. He started to enjoy it. Wait, no. He meant he was just tolerating you.

Yeah. That's right. He's just tolerating you.

"Sukuna! Stop!!!"

Sukuna immediately halted– "What's goin–"

"You almost stepped on some dandelions," you say as you knelt down to the floor.

Sukuna felt like he was going to pop a vein. He can't believe you stopped him for a weed. Can you let he walk to a restaurant in peace?! It was fucking Saturday. He should have never allowed you to follow him home back then.

"Are you fucking joking with me right now?" He looked down at you as you pluck the dandelion. "You stopped me for a fucking weed?"

"First of all, it's a flow–"

"It's a fucking weed."

"It's a flower!" You huffed. "And it's a wishing flower! You make a wish and then blow away the seeds!"

"Great, now you've gone crazy. Just the thing I need from you. As if you're not annoying enough."

"I have not gone crazy! People make wishes on dandelions!"

"And do you know if any of them got fulfilled?" He raised his eyebrow at you. "And I'm sure the people you talk of are kids."

"Well um–" You try to think of something to say as a comeback but come up with nothing.

He smiled smugly– "That's what I thought."

"That's not the point!" You quickly shoved a dandelion in front of his face.

"Get that weed away from my face. I'm starving for food, and you're stopping me for a weed."

"Geez, stop being a party pooper," you sulked. "Make a wish! Maybe it will come true and prove you wrong!"

"I am not going to do something so childish," he said as he pushed your hand away.

"I'll buy lunch!"

Sukuna stopped and thought about it for a second before saying– "And dinner."

If he was going to indulge in your childish antics and look like an idiot, he better get something out of it.

You reluctantly agreed, and he snatched the dandelion out of your hands. He made a wish and then blew the dandelion seeds away.

"There. Made my wish. Now I hope your wallet is ready."

"Whatever, you glutton! What did you wish for?"

"None of your fucking business brat."

The two of you spent a lot of time together. You eventually introduced Sukuna to your other friends. Which surprised Sukuna because at this point, with the amount of time you came and bothered him, he believed that your friends were imaginary.

A girl named Shoko Ieiri, who looks like she's sleep deprived. A guy named Suguru Geto, who, in his opinion, looks weird. Why is he smiling like that!? And finally, a guy named Satoru Gojo. He was the worst out of all your friends. He didn't do anything to him, but just looking at him makes Sukuna want to get rid of him. Cut him in half. Sukuna didn't understand exactly why until he looked at you, looking at him.

Although Sukuna personally knew nothing about love, he knew what he saw. He seen enough people do what they do when in love. He heard enough about the stupid love stories you like to read. He can see it in your eyes when you look at your friend. You liked him.

The way your eyes light up whenever he comes toward you. The way your cheeks start to turn red with a small blush. The way you nervously play with your hands. The smile you give whenever you're around him. A smile that can rival the sun. He felt a pain blossom in his chest as he clenched his fist. These are things he has never seen or gotten from you before.

He hated everything that was going on right now. He hated the way you would sneak glances at him when you think no one was looking. The way you lean into his touch. The way you looked at him with pure adoration and love.

He absolutely hated it.

It took a while for Sukuna to understand why he hated Gojo so much. Why just the sight of Gojo annoyed him. And it's all your fault.

He didn't even know when these feelings started. Was it when you guys first met and you stood your ground with him? Was it when you teased him? Was it when you kept bothering him? Was it when you guys would go out for lunch or dinner together? Was it when he took care of you when you were sick? Did he fall for your looks? Your personality? Was it because of the times you've spent together?

Fuck. He was pissed. Here he is, catching those disgusting mushy feelings for you. Something he sweared would have never happened, and he doesn’t even know how it even happened.

"Fucking hell," Sukuna sighs as he run his hand through his hair.

It should be fine, right? He'll just ignore this. Move on like he didn't realize he fell in love with you somewhere along this journey. These feelings won't last anyway. It will disappear soon. You liked someone else, too, so it should be easy to move on. Right?

Fucking wrong. He's never been more wrong in his life.

All of you have graduated and are now doing your own thing. You all meet up regularly to hang out. Although Sukuna made an effort to see you daily as much as possible–

Wait, no. Correction: He sees you daily because he knows you'll do something stupid if he wasn't watching over you. Nothing else, really.

It's not like Sukuna had trouble moving on. He's not dreaming about you daily. He doesn't want you. It's not like that at all. He obviously moved on from you while you still liked Gojo. No point in these feelings since they're a nuisance.

Deep down, even if he ignores it, he knows he still likes you. But it's not like you'll ever look his way like the way you look at Gojo. Unless an opportunity arrives and it just so happens to arrive. That opportunity came knocking at his door, and he isn't going to let it slip away.

After years watching you love someone else, now he is watching you get your heart broken by that same person. Honestly, he never understood why you fell in love with this guy. That guy was a child in a man's body. Like, who even drinks those sugary, coma-inducing drinks??

But here you are smiling through the pain. He saw small tears forming in your eyes before you quickly wiped them away and said there was dust in your eyes. Others may not notice it, but he does. He saw the hurt in your eyes when Gojo told them that he fell in love at first sight with someone.

Great. Now he wants to murder Gojo even more now for hurting you.

However, he can't help but feel happy? Relief? He doesn't know what he felt. He just knew that an opportunity was given. But he isn't going to be a shitty person and confess to you right when you got your heart broken. He'll wait until you heal. If you ever will. After all, he had already kept his feelings to himself for years. What's wrong with waiting a bit more?

He could make you happy. He would give it his god damn all to make you happy. He would never hurt you. He wouldn't make you cry. At least not cry in a sad way. You crying under him, though, is a different story–

He quickly shakes his head to get rid of that thought. He's getting distracted. You got him wrapped around your fingers, and you don't even know it. He couldn't help but sigh. He really is still in love with you.

He watches as you and Geto try to give Gojo advice on how to win over the person he likes.

"You're an idiot," he interrupted.

He stared at Gojo as he said it, but it was meant for you and himself, really. Both of you two are idiots. Both of you have unrequited love, like in those shitty stories you read. He really is living in the stupid cliché plot he hates. And it's all your fault.

A few months have passed since then. He knew you had mostly moved on. He can still see the hurt sometimes, but it's fading. He knew he should make a move soon. After all, if he doesn't, what if someone else approaches you? But he also knows that just because you moved on doesn't mean you'll see him as he sees you. So he's willing to wait for that day. The day you look at him the way he looks at you.

So here he is. Standing in front of a flower shop. Looking extremely out of place. If you told his past self that he fell in love with you and is now trying to pursue you, he can see his past self attempting murder. He really can't believe he's going to order flowers.

He took a few deep breaths and walked in.

The minute he walked in, a florist greets him– "Hello sir! How may we help you today?"

"Can you make me a boutique?"

"Of course, sir! What type of flowers would you like for the boutique?"

He wanted something to convey his feelings and message. He's done some research about flowers and their meaning. Many websites showed different things, but he eventually settled for one.

"I want..."

When he finally finished ordering the flowers, he went home. On his way back home, he noticed a dandelion.

"...it's a wishing flower! You make a wish and then blow away the seeds! ...People make wishes on dandelions!"

He stared at the dandelion for a few minutes before he clicked his tongue. He bent down and plucked it. He then made a wish and blew the seeds away. He didn't know why he did it. It's not like the dandelion would make his wish come true.

"Tsk. Can't believe I did this. It's fucking stupid."

You really made him a god damn softie so it's about fucking time you take responsibility.

A few days later, he asked you to meet him at your usual spot. A place that only the two of you knew. When he arrived with the boutique, you were already there. You were sitting on the bench, looking over the city.

He quietly stared at you for a while. You were so beautiful sitting there. If angels did exist, you'll be one of them. But then again, your personality was more like a devil. You cast a curse on his heart, and honestly, he didn't mind it. You can curse him for his entire lifetime as long as you accept him.

"Hey, brat. Look behind you."

When you heard the sound of his voice, you quickly turned around. You looked at him and smiled until you noticed the boutique in his hand. You gasped as your eyes widened.

Red chrysanthemum and astilbe. I love you and I will be waiting for you.

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pinkacademiaprincess · 8 months

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Hiii I’m so sorry to bother you!, hope your day goes well <3 I just want to ask, how can I improve in maths? I’m preparing myself for the sat and I have trouble with understanding it. Any tips would be very much appreciated, thanku !! ♡

Become a Math Whiz: Acing Math Class & the SAT 📈✏️📚👩‍🏫

ty for the ask & the kind words! you are never a bother, i'm happy to help 🥰 i can def give some tips as someone who went from struggling w/ math to being good at it. and i’ve taken the SAT so i know that experience as well! i hope this helps 💗

take accountability

it’s very easy to try to shift blame & avoid taking responsibility for your grades/ performance. i used to think things like “the teacher is just bad!” or “i’m just not a math person!” but this mindset is just deflecting. some things are out of your control, like what teacher you have or preferring other subjects, but you have to step up & work hard to create your own success! remembering this will help you stay motivated and disciplined.

find your learning style

i talked about this in a previous post too, but there are different styles of learning - visual, auditory, hands-on, & reading/writing - and not all of them work for everyone. if you spend a ton of time studying and don’t see improvement or results, that’s a big sign that you’re studying wrong. a method that works for your friend or that your teacher uses might not actually be effective for you. so do some research into learning styles and study methods, and find implement strategies that work for you.

never fall behind

okay, easier said than done. but one of the biggest reasons i used to struggle is math is that i would get stuck on a concept, never fully master it, and then i’d stay behind. in math, a lot of topics build on each other. if you get stuck on a topic, it’s crucial that you figure it out asap or your confusion will snowball. you can’t build a solid structure on top of a wobbly foundation. the moment you encounter a problem area, study it until you’ve completely understood.

practice makes perfect

i try to steer clear of recommending specific study methods b/c everyone has different learning styles. but math is so dependent on problem solving & applications that you really have to master this skill in order to succeed. beyond just reviewing your notes & reading over concepts, you need to practice applying topics by solving problems. do the homework questions & do them for accuracy, even if it’s just graded for completion. find extra problems in the textbook, workbook, online, etc. redo questions from class or the hw that confused you until you can do them correctly without your notes. drill it until you can solve them AND understand how the steps work!

ask for help

i am clearly a big proponent of asking for help. in school, your teachers are gonna be one of the best resources you have. for one, they’re teachers for a reason, so even if you think they’re not too great at explaining stuff, they know the concepts. and besides that, your teachers the ones who are creating units, assigning your work, writing & grading your tests... they should be your go-to for questions. visit them during office hours or email to set up a meeting where you can discuss concepts. ask for extra practice problems, ask them to look over your work & let you know how it looks, talk through your work with them. aside from teachers, you can get help from a tutor, a classmate, whoever you can turn to. but pls don’t suffer alone! succeeding with help is still succeeding.

use the internet

so maybe your teacher truly sucks at explaining. maybe you don’t have classmates to help and can’t afford a tutor. or maybe you just wanna supplement your learning another way. i really really recommend utilizing free learning tools online!! khan academy is an obvious one for videos, practice problems, and more. you can also find tons of youtube videos explaining math topics. sometimes it helps to hear things explained another way. i also google “[math concept] practice problems” if i want extra questions to work through.

bonus: tips for SAT math

the SAT is a bit different b/c the math concepts aren’t actually too advanced. it’s all multiple choice so you don’t get to rely on partial points for showing your work. the SAT is testing your strategy & speed as much as it’s actually testing you on math concepts, so here are my best tips for that specifically:

use khan academy’s SAT prep tool - it’s free (!!!!!) and it links to your collegeboard account. it uses prior years’ SAT content so it’s very similar to the test itself. it helps you pace yourself, pinpoint your problem areas, learn & apply concepts, & track your progress. here's a screenshot from when i used it, as you can see my scores improved and i was able to ultimately get a superscore of 1450!

take practice tests - this helps you get familiar with the time constraint. khan academy has plenty!!

do a ton of SAT math practice questions - ideally, find a ton of questions used in prior SAT tests and just crank them out. the test's concepts are quite repetitive so if you just focus on the topics they usually test, you can master them

learn test-taking strategies - the SAT is multiple choice and has a tricky time constraint, so however you can save time will help. become good at using the process of elimination & other multiple choice test methods. you can find these sorts of tips online!

i hope this helps! know that you are completely capable of improving at math. i went from thinking i suck at it & doing poorly in math class to acing my calc courses & studying to enter a math-focused field. utilize your resources and figure out your best study style asap, and you WILL see improvements!

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meggletoomanyfandoms · 3 months

Text

Valentines Day!

(Not my gif!)

Alastor x Fem!Reader

Summary- Valentines Day is coming up and Charlie has decided to incorporate the holiday and use it to create an exercise to bring the hotel staff and residents closer together!

Word count- 1,625

TW- None really. Alastor fluff, super sweet!

Not proofread, there may be some spelling/grammar mistakes!

Author's Note- This might just be the sweetest thing I've written in forever! I can't wait to write more for Alastor, as I had so much fun writing this one! I am also taking requests, feel free to send one in!

“Alright everyone! So for today’s lesson, I thought it would be fun if we did something for Valentine's Day!” Charlie excitedly said, clapping her hands together with a big smile on her face, “This could be great to strengthen our bonds and help us get to know each other better!” You looked around the room and could see the other’s weren’t too happy about this, especially Angel.

“Look, do we really gotta do this?” he asked, rolling his eyes, “Noone hardly even celebrates that holiday here.”

“True that may be, I still think this would be a great lesson and exercise for us all!” Charlie grinned, “Okay, so what I was thinking is we draw names from this bowl and whoever you get is the one you have to make a valentine for and deliver them at the end of the day!”

“And what are we supposed to be making?” Husk shook his head, “I gotta agree with Angel on this one, I think this is stupid…” You looked at Charlie who now had pleading eyes.

“Oh come now, this should definitely prove interesting,” Alastor said, his wide grin unfaltering.

“Uhm.. I think this could actually be fun..” Charlie grinned and grabbed you into a big hug.

“Oh thank you, thank you!” she let you go and stuck the bowl with the names written on folded pieces of paper in it, “Here y/n, you can pick first!”

You gulped but then stuck your hand in the bowl and grabbed one of the small sheets of paper, “Alrighty now, don’t tell us who it is! Simply make them a gift and give it to them!”

“What's the point of doing this if we’re not going to be sharing it with the rest of the group?” Angel asked as Charlie passed the bowl on, now holding it out in front of him.

“I was thinking that we are always doing group activities so I thought that maybe this time we could do something sort of one on one! And if you’d all like, we can always share it with each other later!”

You waited until Charlie finished passing the bowl around and everyone went to draw names., “Now everyone, see who you got!” she excitedly said as she unfolded the small piece of paper in her hands. With a racing heart, you followed suit and did the same. When you read the name on the small piece of paper your eyes instantly widened and your heart began racing.

Alastor.

You immediately looked up to find a certain radio demon eyeing you and grinning, and after a few seconds he turned and made his way out the door. Around you you could hear a few sighs coming from the others but your thoughts drowned them out. What were you supposed to make for Alastor?You hadn’t really even spoken to the demon since you’d started staying here a few weeks ago; he really kept his distance from you and you from him. In all honesty, he kind of frightened you a bit as everything about him was so mysterious.

Sighing you made your way upstairs and into your room. You started rummaging through what few things you had in your drawer, hoping for any sort of idea to pop into your head but… Nothing. Not a damn thing. You rubbed your hands over your face and sighed once again until something at the bottom of your drawer caught your eye.

Red ribbon? You thought for a moment and grabbed it, an idea immediately popping into your mind. It won’t be anything big but it’s the best you’ve got…

---------

Putting the last few finishing touches on his Alastor’s gift, you felt kind of proud of yourself for making his gift. You managed to find a small box to put it in and now you just had to deliver it. Feeling suddenly nervous, you held the small box tightly in your hands as you made his way to his room. You stopped in front of his door and took a deep breath, then knockers slowly on his door.

“Come in, come in!” he said, static clinging to his voice. You did as he said and slowly opened his door to find him sitting at his table in his, er, swamp that connected to his bedroom? Yep, definitely mysterious…

“Oh my dear!” he said, standing up and making his way over to you, “yes I thought it was you got my name from the bowl!” You nodded.

“I did,” you said, “And I uhm, made you a gift but Alastor it’s not the greatest thing-” before you could finish speaking he simply shushed you.

“Now now, dear girl! I’m sure whatever you’ve made is marvelous indeed!” he held out his hands, “May I see it?” You handed the small box over to him and watched as he lifted the lid and tossed it to the floor. His smile didn't change a bit as he pulled the bright red bow out of the box and inspected it.

“I thought that maybe you'd like to put on your uhm, microphone thing? To uhh.. Liven it up a bit?” you felt your cheeks heating up instantly as you spoke aloud, what an awful gift! You could have made him literally anything else, but this is what you came up with?

“Thank you!” he said, sticking the ribbon onto his cane, just below the microphone, “this was a well thought out gift indeed!” You were surprised and were going to question him when he spoke again.

“For your gift my dear, we’ll have to take the long road if that is alright with you!” You shook your head.

“Uhm, Alastor I think you’re supposed to give a gift to the person whose name you drawn, not me-”

“Well whose name do you think I drew?” he said, reaching into his pocket and handing you a small white sheet of paper. Your eyes widened when you saw your own name written on the paper. He held out his arm to you, “Would you please accompany me?” You hesitated but finally took his arm and followed where he led you.

His radio tower. You’d never been in there before- actually, you don’t think anyone except Alastor himself had been. “My gift is up here?” you asked him. He nodded his head and pointed to a seat, “Won’t you please sit, my dear?” Hesitantly, you did as he asked and sat in the chair. You watched as he took a seat at his desk and began speaking into his microphone.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he said, still grinning from ear to ear, “For tonight’s broadcast, I do have something special planned indeed..” You watched as he spoke and then, like it was absolutely nothing a.. Piano materialized in the room? Instead of him sitting at a desk he was now sitting in front of the instrument.

“Yes yes, usually my broadcast’s are a bit more.. Different from the one I have planned for tonight, but ah, it is almost Valentine’s Day indeed so I thought to myself, tonight and tonight only, my dear listeners, I shall sing you a song,” he said, making sure to look directly at you with the last thing he said. It was then that he started playing the piano and you watched as his fingers effortlessly flew across the keys and then he began singing..

You instantly recognized the song, ‘La Vie En Rose’ and you were, well, most definitely caught off guard but also you were amazed. He had the sweetest singing voice and, since when did he know how to play the piano? The Alastor you knew was a ruthless soul whose only goal you thought was making deals and stealing other’s souls, but this? Maybe you really didn’t know Alastor, perhaps there was so much more to him then you had realized.

He finished up the song and piano de-materialized and his desk reappeared, he continued on with his broadcast and you sat by him until he was finished.

“And with that, dearest listeners, I shall bid you goodnight until next time..” he said, finishing his broadcast and then turning to look at you, still grinning from ear to ear.

“I do hope you liked your gift, my dear,” he said to you, “Perhaps it wasn’t what you had in mind but I do hope you still enjoyed it.”

“Alastor, since when could you sing like that? And play piano?” you questioned, “Oh! Yes I did enjoy it, so much.. Nobody has ever done something like that for me.”

“Ah my dear, there is so much that you don’t know about me,” he said, taking your hand and then kissing the top of it. You felt your cheeks begin to heat up as he did so, “Shall we go back to the others now?” You nodded your head.

“Uhm, y-yes Alastor,” you agreed, following him out of the radio tower and back down to the hotel to meet up with the others.

BONUS:

In the hotel a radio sits upon Husks bar and is playing a certain radio demons podcast, with everyone gathered around it and listening intently.

“Is that..?” Charlie questioned, turning one of the dials to turn up the volume.

“Didn’t know the guy could sing, “Angel said, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “Who woulda guessed..” Husk rolled his eyes, taking a cloth and wiping out one of his glasses.

“I seriously can’t believe it,” Vaggie said, turning to Charlie whose eyes were now tearing up, “Charlie?”

“He has the most beautiful voice,” she said, now crying. Vaggie rolled her eyes but took her girlfriend into a hug, patting her back to calm her.

#Alastor x reader #Alastor imagine #Hazbin Hotel #hazbin alastor #Oneshot #Imagine

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mrz-fushiguro-types · 3 months

Note

HI keep up the good work! I’m so proud of you I hope your doing great I had an idea I would LOVEEE to share I was wondering how the jjk characters would be like if the reader is like famous ( actor, singer, model etc) and if it the premier on the carpet how would they be like (also this is optional too but like the process of them getting ready YK) this is just an idea I had. I hope you have an amazing day and stay safe!❤️

Walk the run way

A/N This is going to be my best give or take of this idea but thank you so much for requesting this story-whoever you are! You guys never fail to keep me from writers block! Thank you as well and I will try to be safe, this actually hit me in a soft spot because I’m writing this in a hospital as we speak 😭 one thing I do wish, is that when people send me requests they also tell me the characters they’d like for me to put in the story! But I love to freestyle as well so I don’t mind! Thanks for requesting! And thanks for reading! ❤️

Summary: I will be doing a few characters, such as, Gojo, Geto, Toji, and I’ll end it with those three, I don’t want to be writing for DAYS but if you guys want other characters pov, don’t ever be afraid to hmu! 🩷

A/n Ended up writing for days I’m ready to get this out my draft

Warnings: cursing, smut and as I said wayyyy before Toji is a warning himself

Gojo

quickie in the limo

Getting ready for a premiere has never been an issue for me, doing my makeup, fixing my hair, finding an outfit; all seemed very Taboo to me. But Getting ready for a red carpet event? I couldn’t help but feel butterflies build up in my stomach.

I take stand to pull the black dress up on my body turning to watch how the dress perfectly captivates my curves.

Satoru walked into the room buttoning up his shirt as he watched me turn from left to right his shoulder pressed against the door frame. “Satoru..” I call walking over to him turning.

“Can you zip me up?” I ask and he smiles pulling me closer by my hips, Gojo was a model himself and you could obviously tell, the male was breathtakingly gorgeous.

He pauses before pointing to a hickey he made on the side of my neck “you aren’t gonna cover that?” He said gently causing my face to get hot immediately. “My hair is going to cover it, cmon Gojo Zip me up..” I say tapping my foot.

He simply chuckles pulling my zipper all the way up sliding his hands down my waist, “you look beautiful baby..” he compliments kissing my cheek before walking over to our walk in closet, “red bottoms?” He calls.

I smile putting on my necklace “yes please, wear your red bottoms too..” “I was planning on it,” he said coming out his fingers hooked on the back of my heals as he placed them in front of me.

“You look nervous..” he pointed out as he held my hand as support while I slip on my heals, “I’m very nervous..” I admit placing my hand over my chest, Gojo had been in the modeling industry for years, so this was all easy for him.

He stood straight after putting his shoes on flashing me his know it all smiles, “well, you have nothing to worry about, all of the attention will be on me anyways~” he said jokingly causing me to playfully push up against his chest “shut up..” I mutter as I grab my red fur coat placing it on my shoulders pushing my shades on my head.

Satoru then fixes his jacked black on the outside but on the inside a velvet red. “Ready?” He ask pushing his head on my waist as he pushed his shades up on the bridge of his nose “ready as I’ll ever be..” I call as we make our way out into the limousine.

Flash Flash Flash

The sounds and bright lights from the paparazzi that stood outside of the gate to our house made my mind foggy. While my boyfriend rushed me into the car, after he waved everyone off he sat next to me with a sigh.

“So intrusive. I can’t believe they found out where we stay..we mind as well start looking for new homes at this rate.” He turned his attention to me, my hands shaking from my nerves.

This would be my first red carpet event, what if I fell? What if I’d get to overwhelmed. Too many things were happening at once and it made my heart pound.

Gojo grabs my hand redirecting my attention, “don’t worry you’re going to do great..” yet when he saw my eyes water he sighed and curved his finger pushing his knuckle up under my eye to stop the tears from falling.

“What if I fall?” I say sniffling and that causes him to cackle wiping his own eye, “you are too damn funny,” “I’m glad I amuse you..” I say with a pout. “Aw baby..don’t pout..~” Satoru then pulled me ontop of him, this being easy for him to do so considering how strong he was.

I gasp at the sudden movement but once I gain my breath back I fix myself straddling his hips, “I think I know something that can calm your nerves hm?” He said softly leaning up pushing his lips against mine causing me to kick my heels off quickly, already knowing what was up.

Without wasting much time we were fighting each others tongue Satoru pinning my hands behind my back as he used his other hand to hold my head in place his eyes not leaving mine.

I push up against him my dress sliding up on my thighs as he lets my hands go, involuntarily sliding his warm hands up my thighs into my dress, “just tell me what you want..I’ll give it to you without a second thought..~” he said in a hushed tone his lips brushing against my neck as he let out a breath full of excitement.

Of course this was daily activities for me and Satoru, we fucked too many times to count just in one day, yet he knew dirty talk wasn’t something I enjoyed doing.

But Satoru didn’t care one bit, and he knew if I really wanted it, I’d speak up. I whine at his request scooting closer to him just to be met with his hard on that pocked at me through his pants. “C’mon princess..it’s simple..” he instructed his large hands squeezed at my ass causing me to bite hard on my lip so the drivers wouldn’t hear.

“You already know what I want..and I’m tired of waiting..” I say looking down at him with slutty eyes. He huffs out a sexy chuckle. “Close enough..” His long slender fingers pushed my soaked underwear to the side as I reach my hands down unbuckling his pants just for him to pull his own cock out rubbing from base to tip not breaking eye contact.

His precum already painting the base of his cock as it slowly dripped down.

I shiver at the sight wrapping my arms around his neck leaning my head against his shoulder. Satoru hums and without warning he thrusts up into me wrapping one of his arms around my waist causing me to scramble covering my mouth.

The way he opened me up without warning made me want to do nothing more than scream his name. He was so fucking deep. I lean my head against his as he uses his other hand to press on my lower back as he pounded up into me letting out soft breaths into my ear as he grunted with each breath taking thrust.

I swallow hard trying my hardest to not get any of my makeup or lipstick on him, I then slide my tongue from his neck to his ear moaning out softly “Go faster...~” I whispered, lifting my head up to push my cheek against his, smearing my lipstick on the side of his face.

I could never explain sex with Gojo but I could say this, he made me crave for more, he always changed any thought I had before to only focus on how good he made me feel now.

The way he pounded up into me made me completely forget that, just in under 20 minutes, there would be flashing lights and shouting fans. At this rate, I looked a mess, and so did he.

I flop down hard pulling back to admire my sexy boyfriend, Satoru looked at me as he held my hips, panting tiredly as I began to rock my hips back and forth with his dick still inside of me.

the size of his cock filled me up completely to the point where just sitting there rocking back and forth was enough for me, I throw my head back letting out a shiver and a shaky breath, "don't be selfish..~" he said in a sexually frustrated tone, wrapping his arms under my thighs lifting me up.

The action caused me to jolt forward my forehead pressing against his, Satoru then began to start thrusting at the same pace he was before not slowing down at all.

I curl my lips back to fight the moan he obviously deserves "I wanna feel good too.~" He said in a taunting tone letting out cum hungry grunts with each piercing thrust.

so much at once, that’s what I was feeling, my mind and body felt like they were going to melt into a puddle together, I was close, my limit was exceeded very quickly, "Satoru...~" I call in a warning tone and he pants out a chuckle, "me too..~" he said reassuringly and instantly after that he thrusted once more causing the both of us to Cum quickly.

Satoru's hand over my opened mouth muffling my moans as his head was leaned back on the headrest, his hand that covered my mouth shivering as he was panting. After a bit, I lift off of him, quickly coming down from my high, after catching my reflection in the window.

I was indeed a mess. “Fuck it..” said Gojo as he fixed himself, “let’s just go back home even if we miss it we’ll still be famous tomorrow, what do you say?” He said wiping the lipstick from the side of his face.

I sit back my body completely overstimulated, it was like Gojo to ditch something this important, I look at him unsure and he just smiles, "Babe, even if you miss this one you'll still be famous tomorrow.." he said with a shrug.

I huff shrugging as well “then I’m just as careless as you..” I add with a smile and he chuckles. Satoru tapped the sliding window that connected us to the driver, when it was pulled back he said, “something came up, you mind taking us back?” Causing the driver to chuckle shaking his head.

He pulled to the U-turn lane, taking us all the way back home. I’ll still be famous tomorrow.

Geto

Take it all off

Most of the songs I wrote were inspired by my boyfriend. Suguru had the purest heart, no one could take that away from him. He would listen to every song, and my first song that was about him that got famous, he replayed it everyday.

Soon my songs got more popular, people could relate feeling the love I felt for him and now I was going to my first walk on the red carpet.

Suguru couldn’t stop talking about it, I was relieved that he was just as proud as I was. I turn my attention to my boyfriend, as I wait for his opinion. “Hmm..” He hummed his finger rested on his lip, “I like the royal blue..” he said his eyes darting to the long royal blue dress I had been avoiding.

I shake my head and he chuckles, “why not? You don’t like my taste in clothing?” He asked slouching his legs of course being apart, he always sat like that, the posture was so, sexy to me.

“No it’s not that! I’m wearing heals that dress is long and you know how clumsy I am Su’..” he tilts his head “I think the dress looks good..it shows a good amount of thigh..” he says with a small smile.

I shake my head going over to him as I sat down on his lap causing him to wrap his arms around my waist sitting up laying his head on my back. “I give up..” I admit and he kisses my shoulder.

“If not the royal blue go for the hot pink dress you put on first, you look beautiful regardless baby.” He compliments planting a soft kiss on my ear causing me to shiver. “Thank you Su’..” I say standing and he stays seated.

“I’d really prefer if you stayed here..” I say looking down at my boyfriend sympathetically. I knew he was tired, now Geto had a wonderful singing voice and I even used him to help with some of my songs but he chose a different route and he works so hard wanting to become a doctor.

I hated that he worked himself, but when you live a lifestyle like that most of your life it becomes tiring but easy to bare with. Geto caught my eye still sitting back, “what are you talking about?” He asked fixing his position sitting up his arms rested on his spread knees.

I sigh turning to pull his head into my bare stomach, “you just got off from a shift..you work day in and day out..we’re going to be at the shoot for a while, I think you should rest and stay here..” I say while he kisses my stomach, before he shook his head back and forth nuzzling his face into my stomach.

“As long as I’m around you I’m in comfort..it’s true I had a hard week but I sincerely want to be there to support you baby..” he replied his hands wrapping around my thighs. I giggle, he was like a child at times and I loved when he was.

But there were most times where he could be so sexy.

I lean down and he swallows me in his arms before my lips could even touch his, pulling me back into his arms until I sat like a baby. “Suuu!” I call as he smothers me in kisses.

“Plus why would I ever miss this! My baby made it!” He said his forehead rested on mine as he chuckled. I smile pulling him closer our lips pressed together causing him to groan his large hand creeping up my bare stomach.

Suguru knew how to manipulate my body to wanting him to fuck me immediately. He knew how to caress and touch me, he had a caring heart and mind, but once he became lustful all of that left, and he treated me and my body Like a slut.

And I loved it.

I shiver under his touch sliding from his lap to the couch my legs wrapping around his hips, he smirked “right now?~” he asked sliding between my legs hovering over me, “calm my nerves..” I insist.

He let out a deep and soft chuckle before leaning down to my ear whispering, “only because you asked so nicely..~” he teased nibbling on my earlobe his hand sliding down my stomach to my already aching pussy.

I whine opening my legs for him as he kisses down my neck his two fingers rubbing my clit through the cloth, hearing my clit already make noise caused me to blush Turing my head.

Geto let’s out a breath he got so sexually possessive over my body, I could tell that, just using his fingers gave not only me but him, the upmost pleasure.

Suguru sits up spreading my legs with his other hand just to watch my panties get soaked while he creeped his index finger into the corner of my panties causing my hips to jerk he pushed his fingers against my twitching bud.

Leaning down to slide his tongue over my covered clit, his tongue sliding into my underwear from the corner moving my panties to the side with his tongue holding it out of the way with his index finger.

And then, his tongue made contact with my clit flicking it gently sparking electricity up my body. “Su! Don’t stop..~” I shiver out holding his head, my legs twitching. I look down at my boyfriend who looked up at me with low eyes pulling me forcefully by my hips burying his lips and nose into my pussy.

I squeal out as he moves his head, letting out soft groans as if I were the best thing he’s ever tasted.

He pulls back panting our eyes locked onto eachother I use my feet pulling at his sweat pants hearing him let out a soft chuckle pulling at the rope pulling both his pants and boxers down, his cock to spring out, causing him to sigh from the relief.

I sit up on my elbows whining getting antsy, Geto looked at me with soft eyes positioning himself between my thighs before he says “I’m sorry I kept you waiting baby..” before he instantly thrusted into me holding my leg up as he did so.

“Ngh! Su~” I moan out grabbing at the couch cushion, his dick instantly hit me in spots I couldn’t reach with a toy or with my fingers, he filled me up without a problem. I reach up for him and his harsh sexy Gaze softened as he leaned down to my touch, I wrap my arms around him as he lets my leg fall and in instinct they wrap around his hips.

He starts to thrust his breath hitting my ear as my walls closed around him. I burying my face into his neck giving him hickeys causing him to pick up the pace, his shirt lifting up with each thrust.

Suguru then starts to push into me harder causing me to throw my head back against the couch my eyes rolling back “fuck fuck fuck!~” I cry out clawing at his arms as he fucked me mercilessly.

I gasp once more before he kisses me sloppily capturing the breath I tried to let out, I whine in his mouth as our tongues move messily against eachother. He pulls back panting against my lips as he moved his hips perfectly into my spot receiving slutty moans and mind fucked words to pool out of my mouth.

“Please please! Deeper Su! De-ah!~” my mind faded and any thoughts left as he pounded harder and deeper into me causing me to squeal and clench tightly around him.

“Calm down my pretty baby..~ I’m sure you can take it..” he whispered his hips not slowing down a bit, I in fact could not take it.

I tap his chest repeatedly as my mouth hung open reaching my climax already my body shivering as I wrapped my arms and legs around him, “thaaat’s it pretty girl~ you don’t mind cumming again do you..?~” he cooed still thrusting nonstop into my contracting cunt.

I turn my head so he couldn’t see the lewd expression that was plastered on my face, but Suguru simply grabbed my chin and turned my head me being met with the same lewd expression, his long hair falling off of his shoulders slowly as he rolled his hips into me roughly. “Don’t hide from me..I wanna see that pretty face of yours each time you cum..is that okay? Can you do that for me baby? Just look at me..” he whispered pushing his thumb into my mouth.

Without second thought I wrap my lips around his thumb quickly to quiet myself feeling myself quickly come to my climax again, as Geto grit his teeth, I could tell he was close too.

I shiver as he pulls his finger out of my mouth holding me closer to his heaving chest, I moan loudly into his chest before I finally feel him twitch inside of me and let out his load into me hearing him let out a shaky sigh and a couple of curse words.

“Fuck baby..~” he whispered slowly pulling out of me watching it then pool out of me with a small smile as he brushed his thumb across my cheek whipping away the tear.

“Shit..” I pant out looking at my Apple Watch, “I have to shower..” I announced looking up at him, Causing us both to burst out into tired laughter.

“So what dress are you going to wear?” He asks lifting me off the couch making his way to the bathroom with me.

“I think I’ve decided to go with the Royal blue..” I whisper nuzzling into his chest, he then shoots me another satisfied smile as he closes the door to the bathroom.

I love making him happy.

Toji

Don’t entertain them.

Flash flash flash.

Every damn second of today I’ve had a camera flashing in my face, and of course Toji witnessed the uncomfortable look I had on my face, we left early because, Toji punched a male paparazzi in the face blacking his eye.

And of course the whole ride home he’s said “it’s not my fault, he was getting too close.” While staring out of the window not making eye contact, I’m guessing.

He was mad at me too.

Once we stepped into the house that’s when the silent game really started while I slammed my purse on the table walking to take this stupid dress off.

Being an actress in this time and day was hard, no one really accepted pure acting skills. It took me for what seemed like forever to gain the fame I have now, and the only thing in my mind was that everything that was starting to slowly go up, was quickly going down.

As if life had it’s own gravitational pull.

Toji puts his hands in his pocket resting his shoulder against the wall as he watched me try to take off the dress, my face red and flustered I was pissed.

“So you aren’t going to talk about what happened..” “I’m sure that’s all people are talking about.” I snap ripping the zipper off of the dress growling in annoyance.

Toji’s gaze hardened “maybe if you didn’t go dressed like that,” “I can go wherever I want dressed however I please.” I say getting out of the dress.

He follows me grabbing my wrist, I try to pull away but he flips me and slams my back against the wall, “then it will be more situations like this! That fucking perv was trying to take a picture under your dress.” He said my eyes not leaving him, as I stared in horror.

Toji looked down at me with a “I told you so” kind of look, and I hated when he looked at me like that, it made me feel so small.

Past tense

“I don’t know how supportive I am of this” he said his arms crossed watching me get ready, I look away from my mirror and eyeliner glaring at him, all week he’s been doing this shit. “Somethings wrong with your eyes.” He said, my glare reflecting from him.

“It isn’t..but why can’t you just support me..” I say looking back into the mirror. He sighs “that isn’t it..” he admits his head held down a bit before looking back up at me.

“Then..?” “I don’t support the creepy men you attract. The instagram comments say enough about that doesn’t it..?” He said causing me to look at him.

Lately I have been receiving both Great but mostly pervy comments and a lot of even creeper dms. I understood his concern. “But..” he starts “I support you, you’re doing something you love and I will never not support you or step in your way. But I will always be protective of you..” he said rubbing the back of his neck “I can’t help that..I refuse to let anything happen to you.” He said looking down at the ground chuckling a bit.

I smile looking at him, “I know..that’s why I’m never afraid Toji..I’m the same way with you,” “but you aren’t the same as me..” he said walking over to me rubbing my back as we both gazed in the mirror.

“I don’t just want to fight for you, I need you to know that I’ll kill for you too..that being said, I don’t support this dress, it’s too much skin and it’s calling for creeps to come..” he said, I tilt my head looking up at him, “but it’s okay mama..I trust and support you no matter what, you’ve got a personal body guard..” he whispered kissing me softly.

He always made my heart flutter.

Now.

I push past him, I hated knowing he was right even the slightest, sure call me immature but it felt like he was always right.

He grabs my wrist pulling back, “[Name] this shit is serious! Did you forget what I told you?” He said his cold gaze locked on me, “no, but this could ruin my reputation!” “Getting pictures leaked of your underwear could too..” he said his hands sliding up my bare arms.

“Please calm down, I’m sorry for ruining your day..I mean that..” he brushed my hair out my eyes with his bruised hand, kissing my forehead.

Of course I melted.

At that moment I didn’t care about my reputation, I ended up feeling bad for not seeing it in his point of view, I simply didn’t care to until now, “are you calm..?” He asks to which I nod grabbing his hand turning it over to inspect it. “Are you in any pain..?”

But he simply shrugs it off, “my adrenaline is still pumping I can’t..feel anything right now” I look up at him before walking past him, this whole day was a mess, my mind everywhere. As I wander over to kitchen.

Toji watches me, “[name]?” he calls walking up to me stopping me holding me from behind, his large figure pressed up against mine and instantly warmed me up, he calmed me down, but now that he did I couldn’t help the feeling of dread, “the last time you were this quiet you scared the shit out of me…” he says softly holding my waist.

“Can you do my a favor..” I ask turning to look up at him, his eyes softening, “of course mama..what is it?” He asked, “distract me..” I say softly causing the room to get quiet.

He walked so he was in front of me lifting my head with his palm on my cheek, “are you sure..?~” he said his gaze never leaving my eyes, I hum wrapping my arms around his neck, “please..” I beg before he instantly picks me up taking me to the room, the blanket falling.

It has actually been days since Toji touched me, or made love to me, or fuck the slut out of me..how ever you want to put it, it hasn’t happened in a while, me so focused on the shoot and him focused on the kids and work, we barely had time alone unless it was sleeping.

But now I was eager, I wanted this man to blow off whatever steam he had left and then some, Toji was the only one who could restrict my walking.

I groan needily as we make out, Toji placing me on the dresser after knocking everything off. He swirled his tongue around mine holding my head steady with his hand rested on my cheek.

I wrap my legs around him, unsnapping my bra quickly pushing myself up to feel how hard he was, his lips part of mine and start attacking at my neck with soft kisses and pecks, I focus my attention to his pants my fingers guiding over the obvious lump in his pants, I shivered at the thought that, he wanted me too..

I really wanted him in my mouth the need became so strong that my mouth started to water, “Toji..~” I breathed out not even realizing that his whole hand was between my thighs rubbing my pussy through the cloth, my panties getting drenched in the action.

I open my legs a bit biting hard on my lip as he stared down at me his scar on his lip turning up right as he smirked, his thumb pressed softly against my body that called for him.

Toji lifted my body pulling off my panties my ass smacking back down on the dresser, I shivered at the cold gaze he peered down at me with.

And without warning he pushed the tip of his thumb into me causing me to jump shivering out a moan, “deeper..~” grabbing his wrist forcing his thumb deeper into me, I sigh out staring into his eyes as I rode his thumb.

Toji bit on his lip sliding his tongue across my open lips, I whine wasting no time to suck on his tongue wishing it was something else, and he could tell the way I gazed up at him after pulling off his tongue.

But I could tell that set off something in him, he pull back his finger quickly leaving me before he picked me up setting me on his lap as he sat on the love seat, his hands tracing my thighs.

“Your mouths watering..isn’t it?~ you’re excited for something..”I look him in his eyes sliding from his lap to the floor. “So come on, I’ll give you what your body’s begging for..~” his taunts made me even more eager without a problem.

Finally I slide my hand up to his thighs whining “then why are these still on..” he chuckles before standing pulling down his sweats along with his boxers and just like that his cock sprung out the tip softly touching my nose.

“Why is your mouth still closed..?~” he cooed out causing my entire Body to heat up as I open my mouth pushing my tongue out looking up at him, but without warning Toji pushed his dick deep into my throat causing me to gag instantly.

He pulls back looking down at me with a grin before he bit his lip as I wrapped my lips around his cock bobbing my head not being able to take the slowness.

Toji lets out a soft groan his large veiny hands clamped tightly on my pony tail as he began to ease himself into my mouth before he breathed out “put your hands behind your back..” and in submission I did so.

“Keep them there..” he whispered his hands tangled in my hair as he thrusted into my throat not giving me a chance to catch my breath.

My eyes rolling back at the mere pleasure I felt knowing he was using me to make himself feel good could make me cum right here.

He lets out a hushed breath pulling his cock from the back of my throat my chest heaving as I let out a breath my hands falling to my sides.

He looks down at me with an enthralling expression “fuck you look like a mess right now..~” he said with a sly smirk, I swallow letting out a sigh of desire, “cmon pretty girl stand for me..” he asked and without thinking I stand up just for him to push me into the love seat my arms rested in the cushions my ass in the air.

He roughly slapped my ass pulling my hips over to him receiving a hushed moan from me, he teased my entrance before without warning pushing himself deeply into me.

I squeal covering my mouth with one hand but he grabbed my wrist and pulled my arm behind my back slamming into me my head falling Into the leather seat.

“Toji!~” I moan out as he pinned my arm behind my back his cock slamming in and out of me as he rolled his hips at a quick pace and I loved it.

“I told you not to go out looking like that..now you have to accept your punishment..~ stop squirming..” he held my hips still thrusting into me shifting his thrust to find and hit my spot, and of course he found it.

I whine my eyes rolling back at how good this whole situation felt, the sounds of our skin slamming against each other caused my face to get red God forbid anybody could hear us.

Suddenly he pulls out flipping me on my back before he spread my legs pushing himself back into me causing me to shiver out a pent up moan reaching out for him and he chuckles, his hips rolling as he leaned into my touch, sure I could take being fucked like a slut, but I felt so much better when it was passionate.

I wrap my arms and legs around him as he pounded into my clit causing my legs to shake uncontrollably the knot in my stomach bursting without warning, “fuck! I’m cumming!~” I moan out giving a late warning.

Toji continued to thrust leaning his forehead on mine to share one more sloppy kiss his hips picking up speed before I hear him groan out “shit..~” he lifted pulling out and instantly his cum painted my stomach as he bared a fang.

I shiver feeling his warm liquid hit my stomach, then we sat there panting.

“You learn your lesson..?” He said with a small smirk causing me to giggle. “Actually I dunno, can you run that by me again?~” I ask causing him to shake his head roughly pulling me over by my legs.

As long as he’s fucking me like that? I’ll never learn.

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #anime #gojo satoru #gojo sensei #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #jjk gojo #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto smut #jujutsu geto #toji x y/n #dilf toji #jujutsu toji #toji smut #toji fushiguro

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girlwiththepapatattoo · 9 months

Text

you see through me what lies beyond

Fandom: Legend of Zelda

Pairings: Ganondorf/Female Reader

Warnings: smut, vaginal sex, fingering, oral sex, embarrassment, some feels, messing a bit with canon

Notes: Here, have 13k words of Ganondorf smut lmao. This was a ton of fun to write, and I hope that you all enjoy! (If anyone sees any errors, feel free to point them out!)

Read on Ao3 here!

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Awareness comes to you slowly, a drift of your senses waking, as though they were asleep for decades rather than a full night’s rest. Touch comes first: the sleek softness of silk sheets under your hands, against your fingertips, smooth against your bare legs. You weren’t wearing what you normally did to sleep, either: enfolding your form is what feels like a nightdress, also made of silk.

Next comes your hearing. It’s raining outside, the gentle taps of water on a glass windowpane from somewhere nearby periodically drowned by the distant rumble of thunder. The crackle of a nearby fire filters in, gentle and welcoming.

Whatever wood is in the fireplace (it can’t be a campfire, you wouldn’t be on this plush bed) is fragrant as your sense of smell returns. Other scents filter in: leather, old books, and closer to you, some sort of spice mixed with sandalwood and copper. It’s alluring, making your nostrils flare.

Your eyes flick open. There’s only a hint of firelight coming through the almost-sheer, black drapes on the gigantic four poster bed that was most certainly not your own.

You swallow thickly, your heart-rate picking up as you realize that, wherever you are, it’s not home.

Mattress creaking gently as you sit up, the strap to the nightgown you’ve been changed into slides down one shoulder, the soft touch making you shiver in your unease. You pull it back up and carefully ease yourself over to the edge of the bed, reaching one hand out and shifting one gauzy curtain to the side.

Bookcases line the walls, filled with tomes that look both recent (though not modern) and ancient. Candles flicker on nearby tables, safely away from the books. What walls aren’t covered in books have tapestries hanging, depicting what looks like a desert fortress on one, a great battle on another. A plush, dark red carpet surrounds the bed, and also the giant armchair in front of the crackling fireplace.

“Are you going to sit there all day, woman?” comes a sudden voice. You jump as you realize that there’s someone sitting in the chair. “Come here.”

The voice is low, a bass growl, commanding your attention and action all at once. Swallowing hard once more, you stand, taking a moment as your legs wobble.

“Ah, yes. Travel is hard on mortals without power. Your strength should return soon.”

“...w-where am I?” you ask, more fear in your voice than you’d like.

A soft chuckle meets your ears, and you wish you found the rumble of his voice much less attractive than you did. “I think you are smart enough to know once you see my face. Come.”

You feel goosebumps spread over your shoulders, and not just from the sudden cold stone floor under your bare feet as you step forward. Hesitantly, you approach the great armchair, standing at a distance away that you feel fairly safe from whoever’s in it. Of course, you don’t know if he has a weapon, gun or otherwise…but you’ll take what reassurance you can get right now.

You take a deep breath, then finally take your last step forward and turn to face the man in the chair. A gasp of disbelieving shock leaves your lips, your eyes wide in recognition.

A massive frame fills the chair, the man before you the biggest you’ve ever seen in your life. Legs nearly as thick as your own torso are crossed comfortably at the ankles, stretched out along the carpet to warm his bare feet in front of the fire. The glint of a gold anklet shines briefly. A core thick with strength, leads up to mountainous shoulders, biceps you don’t think your fingers would meet around, distractingly strong forearms, hands that rival dinner plates in size. One hand is closed in a fist, upon which is propped a red-bearded jaw. Your eyes roam over smirking lips, a large and dignified nose, and finally the golden eyes that pierce through yours…

Ganondorf Dragmire, King of the Gerudo, Bearer of the Triforce of Power, sits before you.

You know you’re gaping, mouth hanging open in shock. His smirk widens just a hair as his eyes roam your form. “It seems I was right. That shade of red is lovely on you.”

You pinch yourself hard on the arm. The pain makes you hiss, and he laughs, a soft, amused rumble that you can almost feel in your skin.

“Do you think yourself dreaming? I suppose you must. Power such as mine has no place in your world, after all.”

“Y-You…you can’t be real,” you finally gasp. “That’s not…”

“Possible? I assure you, little one, I am as real as you are.” The hand not pressed to his jaw lifts up a golden goblet, and he sips at the contents within, his golden stare not leaving yours. He licks a droplet of crimson wine from his lips before setting the drink down on an end table next to him.

You suddenly feel very vulnerable, standing before such a man in nothing but a thin silk nightgown. Your hands clench nervously in the material. “W-Why am I…w-what happened to my pajamas?”

His air turns amused, though his gaze loses little intensity. “Would you prefer I seduce you whilst you wear pink clothes with kittens on them? No, I much prefer you in something like this, something more…elegant. Sensual.”

His words feel like a lightning bolt just hit your spine, and you feel a hot blush spread over your cheeks. “W-Wait, you–what did—”

Another rumble of laughter escapes his throat. “Oh, yes, red is certainly your color.” He shifts, sitting up and bracing his forearms on his thick thighs. Muscles ripple as he moves, one half of his torso bared from his robes, the firelight playing over darkly tanned skin. “Come here.”

One huge finger points to a spot just before his feet. Your knees tremble at the thought of being so close to him, but you can’t make yourself move.

His eyes glint as you stay put, and instead of getting angry like you expected, he simply chuckles. “Stunned, are you? Not an unreasonable reaction. But I am a patient man, when I wish to be.”

“Why am I here?!” you finally blurt, before gasping and clapping your hands over your mouth.

He laughs fully now, one massive hand splaying over his stomach in his mirth. “Oh, how adorable you are! Why do you think you’re here?” He smiles, wide, delighted, a hunger in the expression that makes you swallow. “I have lived, in one form or another, for a very long time. You pick up a few secrets of the universe when you have an awareness that spans over ten thousand years.” He leans back in his chair once more, propping his bearded cheek on his fist again. “I know there are universes, dimensions, whatever you want to call them, that are not my own. I know that some of those dimensions touch mine in some small way. You know exactly who I am…and you know exactly what you want from me.”

Your face goes sheet white, and then beet red. “W-Wait, t-that’s–”

“Oh yes. I’ve felt your desire for me clear across worlds, my flustered little admirer,” he purrs. “Your overwhelming need for pleasure at my hands…” To your surprise, he huffs a little. “To put it frankly, it is very distracting. I have important plans to oversee, which I cannot be doing when every ten minutes I hear your desire for my mouth to–”

“S-STOP, STOP I GET IT!” you cry, quaking in embarrassment.

His grin is pure dark mischief. “I truly wonder if you do though.” He’s quiet a moment, just watching you stew in your mortification. You hate this, hate the fact that he’s already gotten you so riled up…

And by hate, of course, you mean love.

“You have two options,” he suddenly says, and the tone in his voice is commanding, ordering you to listen. You couldn’t not listen if you tried. “Either I send you home, right now, to live out your boring little life, never knowing what wonders I could have shown you…” He smirks, teeth flashing for a moment in the firelight, glinting off the pronounced fang of one canine. “Or…I take you. I make you mine, little one. I fuck you so thoroughly and so well that I will ruin you for other men the rest of your life. I will prove that even your persistent daydreams pale in comparison to the real thing.” His eyes flick away from you, looking into the fire, almost dismissive of you standing there, shivering in arousal. “But the choice is yours.”

He picks up his goblet again, sipping at the contents within, watching the flames dance in the fireplace. There’s a part of you that’s almost angry at how he can be so casual after completely turning your world upside down…after giving you such a difficult choice to make on the spot.

“C-Could I…?” His eyes flick to you, the golden, expectant stare making you shiver for a moment before you take a deep breath and try again. “Am I allowed to ask questions?”

“I’d be concerned if you did not,” comes the amused answer. You blink in surprised confusion, and for the first time, a hint of anger enters his eyes. “I know, from these desires of yours, that you think me more than some one-note villain. My goal may be conquering Hyrule once and for all, and I may think nothing of the pawns I use to achieve that goal, but one thing I am not, nor will I ever be, is a rapist.” His nostrils flare in his ire, one lip curling in disgust. “I may have brought you here, but I will not force you. You are free to ask questions, and you are free to say no, without fear of violence from me.”

In spite of this bizarre situation, in spite of the man before you, you can feel your shoulders relaxing. “Thank you.”

He flicks his hands dismissively at your words, before looking towards the flames once more. “Ask your questions.”

“Can…” You swallow hard. “If I say yes, is there…some sort of protection we’ll use? Can you get me pregnant?”

He chuckles, that low rumble you wish didn’t do funny things to your belly. “I have sired many children during these eons. Yes, I can get you with child, and yes, there is protection.” He opens the drawer of the end-table and draws out a small medallion on a length of soft cord. A simple golden triangle gleams in the firelight, much like his eyes do. “There’s a charm of protection on that. Wear it the entire time, and my seed will not take within you.”

He tosses it to you, and you nearly fumble it away before securing it in your grasp. Flushing, you hold it tightly to your chest. “Thank you.” You take another deep breath. “If I…say yes…what happens after? I just go home?”

“Yes…if that is what you wish.” He smirks, stretching out his long body again, and you fight to keep your eyes on his and not on the wonderful play of muscles under his skin. “As I said, magic does not belong in your world. If, after I make you mine, you find that you just cannot live without feeling my touch again…well, I cannot come to your home myself. As it is, it took a great deal of power to bring you here to begin with.”

He shakes his head, though there’s an expression on his face that’s almost...curious. As if he has an academic interest in the subject. “The way that the walls of your dimension fight my sorcery is, admittedly, fascinating. I would like to study it properly someday.”

He seems to come back to himself, his eyes focusing on you again. “After I have shown you what it will truly be like to lie with me, you may decide you wish to stay for a time. I would allow that. Truthfully, I would be amenable to having a woman at my side who is not terrified of me. How long I would want you here is still up for debate.”

You nod slowly, your mind trying to fly into the well of possibilities. But you stop it almost before it begins: you aren’t here to be his equal, his partner. You’re here to warm his bed, to stop being…a distraction.

Your eyes widen as it really hits you. You aren’t here because he saw something special in you, or because of some hidden talent. You’re here because you were so pathetically desperate for this man that it actually breached dimensions. Your eyes fill with tears as humiliation rises in your chest.

Ganondorf blinks in surprise as you look away, your shoulders beginning to shake. “I…I-I’m so sorry for disturbing you,” you say, your voice thick with barely held-back sobs. “I…never knew you really…were real, and I…never wanted to annoy you. I-I’m so sorry.”

He stares at you, before he heaves a sigh. You don’t see him move, but you hear his chair creak. Before you know it he’s swept you up into his arms. You yelp in surprise through your tears–no one’s ever picked you up like this before. “Hush,” he says, though his voice is softer and not unkind. He sits back down, setting you across his lap, and one huge hand presses to your head, forcing your cheek to rest on his chest. Were you not so upset, you’d have loved to enjoy it.

“...I think, perhaps, I have worded something wrong,” he murmurs after a minute of silence. “I am not displeased to be the recipient of your affections, little one. On the contrary, I have been planning this night for some weeks.” His fingers, warm and surprisingly soothing, stroke gently over your cheek. “I was impressed with the depths of your affection, of how strong your feelings are. For them to reach across the dimensional veils…that is no small feat. Were you born here, I could see you being a great sorceress.” You can hear the faint smile in his voice. “In fact, were you to stay, you may yet develop magic of your own. But that is neither here nor there.” He tilts your head up with a gentle finger under your chin, and a careful thumb wipes your tears away. “No more of this, hm?”

“So…” You swallow thickly. “So I’m not here just because I was…distracting you?”

He laughs softly, a gentle rumble of amusement that you almost feel more than hear, like velvet over a rockslide. “No, that is far from the only reason.” He snorts in amusement. “You know who some of my past servants have been. You must remember Zant. In comparison, your attentions would have been a breath of fresh air.”

You can’t help but laugh, and his lips twitch up faintly. He begins idly twirling a piece of your hair through his fingers, bringing a flush to your cheeks. “But I also need you to understand: beyond your affection for me, I have no idea who you are. So do not expect more feelings from me other than lust and some vague fondness. I say this not to be cruel, it is simply the truth.”

You give a hard sniff, but you nod. “Yeah, I get it. This isn’t…” Your eyes widen. “This really isn’t one of my fantasies, you’re…you’re real and here and–” He watches with a smug smirk as your blush deepens rapidly. “A-And I’m sitting on your lap oh my god.”

He laughs, a deeper, full-throated sound that makes you hide your face behind your hands. “You are adorable, all flustered like this. You turn such pretty colors so easily…”

“A-Anyway!” You know he’s grinning down at you, but you forge on with your point. “Y-Yeah, so, this is real and you’re not just pixels. You’re a real person, with agency, and I…I don’t want you to do anything that you don’t wanna do just because my thoughts were um…loud.”

The look in his eyes plainly says that you couldn’t make him do anything he wouldn’t want to anyway, but he still nods to you. “I appreciate the sentiment, and return it.” He brings the lock of hair he was still toiling with to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the strands, his golden gaze still boring into your own. He sees the way your breath hitches, and it makes a soft rumble of interest emanate from his chest. “The things I want to do to you…” he all but growls, and a candle of desire bursts to life in your lower belly.

In a flash, he’s turned you on his lap. Your back presses to his chest, the top of your head tucked up under his chin…and your legs are spread around his thighs. You gasp in surprise, at how fast that was, at how vulnerable this feels, spread wide over his closed legs, the nightgown pulling up so that most of your thighs are on display. “O-Oh, f-fuck, I–”

He chuckles darkly, lowering his head to press his bearded cheek to yours. “What a mouth you have…” he purrs, enjoying the way that you shiver at the prickle of his facial hair. “I look forward to finding out what else it is capable of…”

Your eyes slam shut as a wave of lust washes over you. His voice, the tone, the suggestive words…he was right: none of your fantasies are measuring up to the real thing, and the fun hasn’t even started yet!

One huge hand splays over your belly suddenly, the warmth of him felt easily through the thin fabric. He feels your abs jump under his touch, and a pleased grin pulls at his lips. You can feel it, feel it when he smiles against your skin.

Your body is burning already.

“You are very sensitive…” The thumb of his free hand suddenly caresses over the top of your thigh, and a gasp bursts out of your throat without permission. He’s tall enough, his frame dwarfing yours enough that he can get a full view of the front of your body, and his grin widens to see the skin of both thighs pimpled in goosebumps. To see the juts of your hardened nipples pressing against the silk they’re hidden in. “Beautiful…oh, I am going to enjoy playing with you…”

“I-I’m so…y-you feel so good,” you breathe, and then blush darkly as you realize what you said and turn your face away in embarrassment.

He chuckles deeply, lifting the hand that had touched your thigh to stroke a thumb along your jawline, making you exhale hard. Then his lips press to your neck, his nose brushing over your jaw, his beard a wonderful scrape on your skin, and the sound that bursts from your throat…it isn’t like any sound you’ve ever made in your life.

He feels you tremble on him, enjoying the way your skin flushes in arousal all the way down your chest. He presses a line of achingly slow kisses up and down the column of your throat, and with each caress of soft, warm lips your body becomes more and more impatient.

You open your mouth to beg him to do something more, but the only thing that comes out is a desperate cry as he bites down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

You writhe on his lap, heat racing over your skin, every inch of you shivering in need at feeling his teeth in your flesh, at the almost-but-not-quite harsh pressure, at the points of his canines. They could easily break the skin…but they don’t, and the strength and control he has is just another source of arousal for you.

You can feel sweat beading in your hairline as he removes his teeth, and you shudder and whine softly as his tongue gives a lap over where he just bit. “My marks will look good on you,” he praises, caressing his nose over the side of your neck almost fondly. “I am eager to leave more…”

“P-Please,” you gasp, unaware in the haze of your pleasure that you were wriggling your hips, trying to get some sort of friction where you most need it.

“Hm. I want you to tell me if this gets painful for you.”

“W-What?”

Your legs are still spread over his thighs, your toes almost tucked behind his knees, which were pressed together this whole time. But now he pulls them apart, opening his own legs so that yours spread even wider. You gasp loudly as you feel the relatively cooler air of the room against your overheated core, against the slickness coating your underwear. He feels a shudder work its way up your spine as his legs stop.

You feel somehow even more vulnerable, the edges of the nightgown hiked up to where your legs connect to your torso. There’s a slight burn to your hips from how wide he’s spread you open, but it’s one you know will fade if you let it. You sit there shivering, panting; in all your life, you’ve never felt arousal like this before.

“How are you feeling, my beautiful one?” he rasps. You know, deep in the part of your mind that’s not completely taken with lust, that he’s affected by this too. The gravel that’s suffused his voice is evidence enough of that, even if you couldn’t feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing against your backside.

“Good,” you manage to gasp out. “I feel so good, everything’s so…so sensitive. I need…I-I need you…”

He nuzzles once more into your neck, making you shudder on him. “And you will have me…but not quite yet. I am going to take my time with you, take you apart piece by piece…”

His hands, his massive hands, suddenly curve over the soft skin of your thighs. His skin is calloused but warm, providing a wonderful, gentle scrape of sensation that leaves you shivering all over again. He feels your muscles jump under his touch, and he smiles once more against your neck. “I want you to tell me, lovely one, about your favorite fantasy.”

You have to fight to push through the haze of lust enough to really understand his words, and they bring a flush of embarrassment to your face. “I-I’m sure you’ve…you’ve heard it…”

“I have,” he replies agreeably, and he gives your thighs a gentle squeeze, enjoying the way you quiver at the sudden pressure. “But I want to hear it from you in person.”

You swallow thickly, trying to form words, trying to make your mouth work to tell him what he wants. But you’re too overwhelmed, too embarrassed to speak the words out loud.

He, however, has no such qualms.

“Speechless I see…hmm, well, I can understand that. It is our first time together, and you are unused to such…lust.” His hands begin to rub slowly, softly, up and down your thighs, the roughness of his callouses making you shudder and twitch. His fingertips get closer and closer to your core with each pass. “So I shall speak the words you cannot.”

“A-Ah, um, you really d-don’t have to,” you reply, your voice a quaking whisper.

He chuckles darkly, brushing the tip of his nose playfully down the shell of your ear. “And leave such a good idea to the recesses in your mind where your fantasies play? No, beautiful one, such…creativity should be shared.” His fingernails begin to gently scritch at your skin, and he feels your toes curl hard against his calves.

“I have you suspended in the air, caught up in magical binds. Your legs are spread and bent, as if squatting, your hands behind your back to push those lovely tits out for my enjoyment. You are blindfolded, but not gagged, so that I may hear each sound I drag out of you. A series of three wooden cocks are taking turns pushing deep into you, guided by magic as well. One is fully smooth, one has large bumps over its surface, and one has a set of ridges. You also have a small plug in that lovely ass, which I make shift every so often just to remind you that it’s there.”

His words come slowly, smoothly, as if reading from the morning newspaper, and listening him describing the debauchery you’ve come up with in that deep, sonorous voice is making your clit throb.

“The entire time, I watch from a nearby seat, telling you my every thought of your body and how it’s being pleasured. And once in a while I float you over to me, so that I may drink of your pleasure, and admonish you for dripping on my pants.”

The last part is said in a growl, and one huge hand suddenly cups you firmly between your legs. A cry tears from your throat at the sudden delicious force, and your hips buck toward his touch desperately, seeking any sort of friction you can get.

He laughs as he gives a gentle squeeze to your mound, a smug smile tugging his lips up as you almost gurgle at the pressure where you need it the most. “Dripping indeed…we will not be able to salvage your small-clothes, my beautiful little faucet.”

While his left hand cups you, his right begins slowly working up your body, stroking here, gripping there, until his fingers splay just under your breasts. By now, your desire has been stoked into an inferno. Your hips can’t stop rolling into his touch, though he does nothing but cup you and give a soft squeeze every so often. Your torso arches into his hand, begging without words for him to finally touch you, take your desperate body the way you need.

You’re pretty sure that you’d do whatever he asked right now, if only he’d bring you to your peak. And with a man like Ganondorf, that’s a dangerous place to be…

The hand on your chest moves, and your face flushes darkly as he tugs the hem of the silk nightgown down, baring your flesh to his hungry gaze. “Lovely…” he purrs, and he finally, finally cups his hand around your right breast.

You cry out his name as he gives a gentle squeeze, your achingly-hard nipple scraping against his palm, the feeling enough to have your words breaking free in a frantic ramble. “Yes yes yes please, Ganondorf, please I-AH!”

“Unfortunately,” he says, as if you’re not losing your mind at his touch, “my magic is not suitable for telekinesis, so your fantasy cannot come true. At least, from a magical source.” He smirks, kneading your breast in his hand. “Thankfully, there are other ways to hold you in midair.”

Quaking and whimpering in his hands, your own raise. He hadn’t said that you couldn’t touch him. So you reach behind yourself, cupping your hands eagerly around the back of his neck, trying to anchor yourself to earth, to bring the frenzied need of your body down a notch. His skin is so warm under yours, and you feel his beautiful, fiery hair gently brushing over the backs of your fingers.

It works, though, your mind lifting a little from the haze of lust you’d been drowning in. You start to take slower breaths, trying to calm the racing of your heart. It wouldn’t do to pass out your first time with the Demon King.

He lets you, lets you get a little of your breath back…but not for long.

Two fingers suddenly press to your clothed folds, the drenched fabric pushing against your outer lips, and with a firm but teasing pressure, rise up your slit. At this angle, he only gets the barest hint of pressure over your clit before his fingers part, dragging back down to press over your entrance and then repeat the process.

All your muscles, from your toes to your fingers, clench in desperate need as your hips thrust toward his teasing touch. A broken-sounding sob is wrenched from your throat, and he growls softly as your nails dig into his neck, closing his eyes to enjoy the tiny bite of pain as his fingers continue their circuit.

Sweat drips down your spine, sticking your skin to his chest as he works your body into a frenzy. You can feel your inner-most thighs becoming absolutely drenched in your own slick, his fingers gliding easily over the ruined fabric. “I believe…you are ready for your first peak,” he purrs. “I have teased you long enough. I do not wish to be cruel…at least, not more than you can handle, anyway.”

“P-Please, please,” you gasp.

“So polite…”

His hand at your core shifts, and there’s the sudden tearing of fabric as he rips your underwear away. He chuckles darkly, teeth glinting in the firelight, as he holds up the drenched, ruined scrap of cloth to examine it. “Long enough indeed…look at me.”

That tone of voice can only be obeyed, and you turn your head, letting your eyes meet his. That golden gaze spears you, and maintaining devastating eye contact the whole time, he lifts the sodden scrap to his lips and takes a long, slow lick. You turn crimson and break the gaze to look away, but his hand leaves your breast to grip your chin, turning your face back to him. “I said, look at me, my pet,” he growls, before licking again.

You squirm on his lap, and he growls in pleasure at both your taste bursting on his tongue, and the way your ass rubs against his cock through the thin material of his pants. You suddenly hear a rather wet sounding splat as he tosses the ruined underclothes away. “Be ready,” he rasps into your ear.

And that’s all the warning you get. A giant arm wraps fully around your middle, and without any more preamble, one thick finger slides deeply into your sloppy cunt. You scream his name, and he grunts at feeling your walls clench and grip his finger. He has to fight the urge to just slam you down onto his cock now.

You’re more than slick enough for even a finger of his size to move easily, and so he pumps you, a slow but steady pace, the arm around your waist preventing you from moving overmuch. Your hips didn’t get the memo though, bucking towards the questing digit, but unable to get much friction from the way he’s clamped you down.

The next time he pulls out, two fingers press back in, stretching your walls. “FUCK!” you shout, the curse involuntary. He laughs, dark and menacing as he pumps slowly back into you, and once the last set of his knuckles press to your folds, he wiggles his fingers. You sob his name, a broken prayer to your dark god as he works your body open.

And then he stops playing.

His fingers suddenly piston in and out, a rapid pace that fills with air with the lewd squelch of your sopping walls welcoming and releasing his intrusion. His thumb presses to your clit and rubs rapid circles over the throbbing bud, and your orgasm rises so fast that you stop breathing. The pressure builds and builds in your core, an endless wind up until you feel like your body is going to break apart with its force. You lose control of your limbs, thrashing in the circle of his arm.

And then your world explodes.

Your vision bursts into white light, your hearing cuts out with a sharp whine, and your awareness of your own body has been reduced to nothing but the raging torrent of pleasure emanating from your cunt. You don’t hear it, but you can feel him growling against your back, the deep reverberation feeling more bestial than man. His fingers don’t stop, and he laughs in triumph as your walls squeeze him so hard that you squirt, your slick splattering along his hand and the floor at his feet.

You don’t know how long he keeps you flying. When you come back to yourself, you’re sitting sideways on his lap, cradled in the warmth of his arms, your face nestled into his chest. Your muscles ache softly, the sort of ache you usually only feel after a long workout…and you supposed this definitely counted. “G-Gan…?” you rasp, your throat sore from screaming.

“Ah, you’ve returned,” he says softly. One hand leaves off curling gently around your hip, and he conjures a warm cup of tea. “Here, drink. It will soothe you.”

You peel your eyes open, and your arms shake a little as you take the cup from him, tiny in his huge hands. He keeps one finger underneath it just in case, and you sip deeply, your eyes closing again as the perfectly warm liquid slides over your sore throat. Warmth seems to cling to the affected areas in your esophagus, and you realize that in short order, your throat feels completely fine. “That’s some great tea,” you murmur as you finish it.

He chuckles softly. “A favorite blend of mine, with a bit of healing potion mixed in.” The tea cup disappears, and he brushes a fond kiss over your forehead. “How do you feel now?”

You flush darkly, but you can’t stop the smile tugging at your lips even if you wanted to. “I…I feel wonderful. I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard in my life.”

He smirks faintly, a smugness to his lips that you very much would like to kiss away. “I would be very surprised if you have, my beautiful one.”

Your blush doesn’t abate, and for the first time since you realize you were here with Ganondorf, you speak to him as if he were…normal. “You’re going to be so smug about this, aren’t you?”

He throws his head back and laughs, a full-throated belly laugh that, despite your wanting to stay vaguely annoyed with him, has you grinning. “Oh, insufferably!” He grins, his eyes glinting in mirth as he leans down and playfully bites at your cheek. “But I do believe I’ve earned it.”

You gasp and laugh at his bite, before pausing. His face is close to yours, his breath fanning over your jaw, warm and somehow…comforting. Here you are, sitting in the lap of the main villain from one of your favorite game series…and there’s no fear. In fact, it’s very much the opposite of fear. And that worries you, a bit. Because Ganondorf has the moniker ‘The King of Evil’ for a reason.

He watches the happiness dim slightly in your eyes, and one thumb comes up to gently caress over your cheek. “Are you well?”

You try for a smile. You’re not sure how successful you are. “Oh, um…yes, I’m all right.”

He snorts, propping his bearded jaw on his fist and giving you an unimpressed look. “You are a bad liar.”

“Yeah…”

“What is wrong?”

“...nothing that I think can be fixed, Ganondorf. I think talking about it would just make you angry and me frustrated…and I don’t want this night to end on a note like that.”

His lips thin out at your answer. “That is a very diplomatic way of saying nothing at all. Perhaps instead of bedding you, I should hire you to improve public relations.”

You scowl faintly. “Maybe you should! Maybe that way…” Like you’d predicted, frustrated tears spring to your eyes, and you slide off his lap. Your legs tremble visibly, your body still recovering from the incredible orgasm he’d given you. You pad away from him, adjusting the nightgown to cover yourself once more.

You hear the chair creek as he stands, and after a moment his hands, warm and wonderful, come to rest on your shoulders. “...you are not of this world,” he rumbles down to you, thumbs gently rubbing circles at the base of your neck that you wish didn’t feel so good, “and as such I have no right to judge you for your opinion on me and what I do. If it were someone from this world, then yes, I would be angry. Furious even. But from what little I have gleaned, your world can see all sides of the story, not just what people are told in hushed whispers over meager fires.” You hear him sigh, and his tone becomes tight. “I…apologize for pushing. You did warn me, after all.”

It sounds like it takes a lot for him to say the words. Honestly, you’re faintly surprised that he apologized at all. You’re softening, you can feel it, and your lips curl into a resigned, almost amused smile at your own expense.

You turn in his hands, looking up at him and gently wrapping your own hands around his wrists. “Ganondorf…you must know that I care about you for more than what you can do for me…in bed. I do believe that your…” You fall quiet, and he can see in your eyes the uncertainty of whether or not you should continue. He gives you a gentle nudge, nodding for you to go on. You take a deep breath. “I do believe that your original goal, back in…well, I guess you’d call it the Time Era? Maybe?” You shake your head. “Shit’s complicated.”

His lips twitch at your vulgarity. “Shit is indeed complicated,” he says wryly, and you can’t help but snort a surprised laugh.

“Don’t make me laugh, I’m trying to be stern!” His amused smirk widens a hair, and he mimes buttoning his lips. You huff at him, then forge on. “I think your original goal was noble. You wanted a better life for your people, wanted your sisters out of the desert that’s incredibly harsh to live in. But the Power…went to your head. You lost sight of your goal, of your people, and all you wanted was more power and to rule over everything with an iron fist, and it’s just like. What’s the point of that?” Your eyes glint, and he’s surprised to see you becoming angry. “Let’s say you take over everything, rule as a tyrant, great, congrats. What then? What was your plan? Just sit on your throne, hoard the world like a dragon, be cruel for cruelty’s sake? Wouldn’t that get boring after a while? You have everything, there’s nothing left to accomplish, you can’t tell me that would make you happy!”

He stares down at you, and there’s no emotion in his face whatsoever. It’s quiet for a long moment, before his nostrils flare and there’s an odd look to his eyes. Part of it seems to be approval, oddly enough. He seems impressed with the tenacity of your words at the very least. But the other part is a rising anger…though not, perhaps at you. “...you feel very strongly about this,” he finally murmurs.

You flush faintly, and offer him a shrug. “Yeah, I do. I grew up with this world, Ganondorf, it’s important to me. You’re…important to me.” Your blush deepens at the confession, and you hold your hands up. “A-And I know, I remember what you said earlier. But yes, I do feel strongly about this.”

He can’t help a soft, almost wry chuckle, before he snaps his fingers. On one of the tables nearby suddenly appears a small feast, an array of foods that’s already making your mouth water. “Let us eat. You need to recover your strength before we continue…if that is what you wish. As we eat, I will…explain something to you.”

With a hand on your lower back, he guides you to sit at his right hand. Before you settle down into the richly stained oak chair, he smirks at you and conjures a towel for you to sit on. You flush crimson, and he chuckles darkly, before you both sit and begin to pile food onto your plate. “Partake lightly, my beauty. Too full a stomach will be…uncomfortable for you, to say the least.”

You shiver faintly. After what he already did to you, you can only imagine…

And so you took mostly fruits and a little meat, staying away from the bread and the pastries, as much as you’d like to indulge in some carbs. You couldn’t pass up the chocolate covered strawberries though.

Once both your plates are ready, you look at him expectantly. He sighs, lounging in the huge chair, his brow furrowed with the weight of the distant past. “The problem, beautiful one, with coming from a world that only touches mine is that you do not know each reincarnation cycle. These…games of yours, did not cover everything. But how could they? They have not been out long enough to cover the length of time I have been alive in one form or another.”

He takes a sip of wine, looking down into the swirling burgundy depths. “I have won before.”

Your eyes widen in shock.

“Oh yes, I have won several times. The world was mine, to rule as I see fit. The first time, yes, I ruled as the worst tyrant any timeline has ever known.” He huffs at himself. “Even I myself am quite appalled at what I was like, back in ages long since ash. Then, I was killed.

“The second time I won, I did things…better. I was a difficult king to live under, to be sure, but I was fair. If a petitioner came to me with an actual problem, then I would do my best to see the problem solved.” He smirks faintly. “Whether or not the petitioner appreciated the solution was another story.”

He pauses. “...then, once more I was killed.”

He’s quiet for a moment, staring into the middle distance. “...the third time that I won is my favorite out of all my lives. I took over after minimal violence, only the royal family and their honor guards were killed. Once I was in place, I began to turn the world into a paradise. Every citizen had access to clean water, healthy food, and medical care. I opened schools that were free to all citizens. I rebuilt the infrastructure that the royal family had let go for far too long. I invested in what’s most important to the long term health of a kingdom: farmers, fishermen, builders, carpenters, and the like. I built up the arts, threw festivals on holy days.” He smiles. “I was able to bring my people out of the desert, to settle in Hyrule. And the people…grew to love me. I became the beloved king that almost everyone was loyal to. They cheered, genuinely, when I passed.” To your surprise, his lips curl up in a tender smile, and his golden eyes soften, buttery warm in the candlelight. “I met my beloved, Amara. She was the woman who ran my stables, who cared for my personal warhorse when I did not have the time. She could have easily been one of my own people…we fell in love, and I made her my Queen, and she bore me several beautiful, strong children.

“Things were…perfect.”

His eyes darkened. “Then the princess and the hero were reincarnated, and I was killed once more.”

You gasp, and he glances at you, to see tears swimming in your eyes, your hands over your mouth. He sighs, reaching over and cupping a huge hand over your cheek, his thumb wiping away a tear.

“It does not matter what I do, beautiful one. I may be a tyrant, or a benevolent ruler, and the cycle will complete anyway.”

The chair scrapes along the floor as you push away from the table, and Ganondorf makes a sound of surprise as you leap into his arms. He catches you, his eyes wide as you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into hair. “It’s not fair,” you sob. “It’s not fair! You deserve happiness too! You didn’t ask for this!”

He blinks. He’s not sure how long it’s been since someone cried for him…He softens faintly, and he hugs you back, pressing his cheek to your hair. He doesn’t say anything as he closes his eyes, and he just lets himself enjoy your tight hug…and your empathy.

Your tears eventually slow, before coming to a full stop. You give a hard sniff, sitting back, Ganondorf’s hands sliding along your back to cup softly over your shoulder blades. “I-I’m sorry, I…I didn’t mean to get so upset.”

“Think nothing of it,” he murmurs, conjuring a linen handkerchief and gently wiping your face. “Yours is a tender soul.”

You give a gentle sniffle, and then a wet laugh. “I swear, I won’t cry the whole time I’m here.”

He chuckles softly as he cleans you up. “Do not make oaths you may not be able to keep, hm?”

Your eyebrow quirks up at him. “Are you saying you’re gonna make me cry more?”

His beautiful lips quirk up into a smirk. “Oftentimes after a physical release, people experience a psychological one as well. And you will be having many physical releases.”

His voice drops down into a deep purr, full of dark humor and promise, and you can feel yourself flushing darkly. “W-Well…that’s not fair.”

He laughs. “I never claimed to be.” He cocks his head as he considers your plate, how little you ate through his story. “Come, return to your seat. You have not eaten enough to regain your energy, my little lovely.”

Still blushing, you slide off his lap, and take one step to go back to your seat. But his huge hand suddenly catches your arm, and he tugs you back around. You gasp, stumbling, bracing one hand against his chest as he cups the back of your head and…kisses you.

He’s kissing you.

His perfect, beautiful lips are on yours, soft and warm and his touch is almost…tender.

Your heart skips a beat as your eyes widen, before fluttering shut. You make a soft sound into his lips as you begin to return the kiss. He molds your lips together, slow and sensual, even if just a tiny bit out of practice. Your hands raise, cupping over his bearded jaw, and when his thumb strokes so gently over your cheek you part your lips for a sigh.

He takes advantage immediately, his tongue stroking over your lips before dipping into your mouth. He feels you shiver hard, and he rumbles deep in his chest as his agile tongue licks against your own.

Then, he pulls away, and you’re left dazed, staring up into his face in wonder. He grins, deeply smug and satisfied, but in his eyes is the very slightest hint of gratitude.

“There. Now, you may eat.” He gently turns you around, and gives your rear end a pat to get you going. You let out a little squeak and quickly sit, your face red.

It’s quiet for a while as you and Ganondorf finish your meal. Your blush fades as he concentrates on his food and not you, and you’re left dealing with the surreal feeling of having a meal with the King of Evil. It's…bizarre, and it almost makes you want to laugh.

Then, a thought has you gasping: if The Legend of Zelda world is real, if he’s real, then what other worlds you thought were only fantasy could be real?

Unfortunately, you inhale while a piece of melon is in your mouth, and you immediately begin choking. “Hrrk!” you say eloquently. His eyes flash to you as you clutch at your throat, and his eyes widen.

“What–?!” He leans over and slaps your back, once, twice, before the melon dislodges and you’re able to swallow it.

“Gah!” You breath deeply, the air sweet into your briefly abused lungs. “T-Thank you, f-fuck…”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, but you can see he’s trying hard not to laugh. “I see that I will have to be careful with you, if you cannot even handle a piece of melon in your mouth.”

You squeak, scandalized. “Ganondorf!”

He does laugh now, a full-throated belly laugh. You protest and pout and finally pick up another bit of melon and throw it at his stupid, smug, beautiful face. It bounces off the tip of his nose and lands onto his own plate, where he looks down at it, bemused.

His golden eyes flash to yours, and you see a deep mischief flicker to life in their depths. “Oh? Does my little pet challenge me?”

“Uh…” is your reply. You quickly analyze his expression: no anger, no darkness (or at least, no more than there ever is), just…humor? “...maybe?”

He smirks, picking up a grape from the nearby bowl of them and examining it. “You will not win,” he purrs, before flicking his wrist. The grape hits you square between the eyes.

You stare at him in shock, but then a grin starts to worm it’s way across your lips. “Probably not,” you agree, reaching out and picking up a slice of cake. His eyes widen. “But it’s gonna be fun anyway!” And you throw it. It smears across his chest and a little way up his neck, and you have the urge to lick it off of him.

But maybe later, because all hell breaks loose.

The food flies, and both of your laughter bounces off the walls with it. You’re both quickly filthy, smeared in various sauces and desserts, and though he gets you far more than you get him, he doesn’t come out of the fight undecorated. The sight of a slice of banana stuck onto one of the spikes on his diadem has you laughing so hard you fall over, and he shows no mercy, taking the opportunity to drop half a pie directly down onto your face.

You splutter through the dessert, and he squats down, pushing the pie off your skin, his lips in a wide grin. “Surrender?” he asks, eyes sparkling in amusement as he wipes it from around your eyes.

“Yes! Yes, I surrender,” you giggle, licking at the cherry pie filling on your lips.

He leans down before you can get it all and kisses you deeply, suddenly, and you gasp as his tongue licks away the sweet dessert that you hadn’t gotten to yet. You moan into his mouth, opening for him and licking against his questing muscle. He growls softly, his hands cupping the sides of your head, and even upside down and covered in food his kiss is a thing of beauty.

All too soon he pulls away, his eyes darkened with desire, and he licks his lips. “Dinner is much more delicious when I eat it off of you,” he purrs, and you flush faintly.

But you surprise him, turning and rising up onto your knees to swipe your tongue over the cake and frosting smeared on his massive shoulder. “I could say the same,” you reply, your voice husky with desire.

One massive arm suddenly wraps around your waist, pressing you hard against him. His other hand cups the back of your head, and he kisses you deeply once more, devouring your lips as though he’d never eaten something so decadent in his life.

You groan loudly, kissing back, doing your best to keep up with his passion. Soon enough, he stands, bringing you with him, and begins walking. Your legs wrap around his waist for support, and he growls again, the feeling of such a dangerous sound vibrating into your chest making you whimper.

You expect to be laid down in the bed. Instead, he walks with you through a door, and you’re dropped suddenly…into a hot bath. You surface immediately, spluttering as water pours down your body, the silken nightgown immediately sodden. You hear the rustle of fabric, and when you push the wet hair out of your face, you look up to see Ganondorf standing there…completely naked.

Your jaw goes slack as your eyes drink in his body. Powerful muscle ripples along his limbs. His forearms, legs, chest, and crotch all sport a faint dusting of red hair on his darkly tanned skin. A gnarled scar rips through the center of his chest, looking at the very least rather uncomfortable. Many other scars mar his limbs, making him look, somehow, even more dangerous than he already does.

Then your eyes fix on his groin, and all the moisture in your mouth heads south.

His cock is…proportionate to his size, the head darker than the base, with two pronounced veins that run side by side on the top, along the slight upward curve. Because he’s sporting half an erection after everything that happened earlier.

You swallow thickly. Your apprehension must have shown on your face, because he chuckles softly and wraps a huge hand around himself. “There is no need for fear, my beautiful one,” he all but purrs, golden eyes glinting. “I am well versed in sex with people smaller than me. That is, after all, most of them.”

You want to laugh, but before you could he starts walking down into the tub.

The tub itself is huge, inset into the floor, made out of black marble threaded with gold. If it had been any sort of different situation, you would have taken the time to marvel at its beauty. But all your attention is on the man who walks right up you, smirking deeply.

His presence is overwhelming. You feel tiny, a speck before his mountain, and yet…the way he’s looking at you, desire beginning to burn in those golden depths once more, the appreciation of seeing the silk nightdress cling to your form…you begin to feel a little…beautiful. You’ve never been wanted before.

Not like this.

“Take that off,” he rumbles, almost growls. “I greatly enjoy it on you, but I will rip it off if I must.”

Your heart is hammering with a combination of excitement and nerves, but you quickly pull the sodden, now heavy fabric off and toss it away to land with a wet splat on the floor.

Fully naked before him for the first time, you watch as his eyes roam your form, taking their time, looking at every detail. You flush darkly under the scrutiny, your mind conjuring up all the flaws he could analyze, all the perceived imperfections in your body that you weren’t happy about, and you look away. You don’t want to watch his face fall.

A gentle finger presses to your skin, and though his touch is almost tender, his strength cannot be denied. Your face is turned back to him, and it seems like the passion in his gaze softens a bit. “You are beautiful,” he says simply. But the conviction in his tone, the matter-of-fact way he says it, like saying ‘It’s Tuesday’ or ‘the sky is blue’...he says it as fact. Your beauty was never a question for him.

You couldn’t stop your grateful smile if you tried.

He smirks faintly back, then sits down and makes a motion behind you. You turn to spy soap, shampoo, and some sort of hair oil lined up neatly, along with a washcloth. “You made a mess, my little pet,” he purrs. “It is time you cleaned it.”

Your eyes widen. Oh, to get your hands on him like this…you nod, and you bid him to lean back. He does, his eyes never leaving your face, and an amused light enters his eyes as he watches you frown at his diadem. “How do you…?”

He reaches up, and with a deft flick of his fingers (and gifting you a wonderful play of muscles in his shoulders) the diadem comes free. He sets it carefully down on the side of the tub, then looks to you expectantly.

Your surprised by what sort of difference just removing the diadem makes. He’s always regal looking, but right now, without the gold and large topaz on his brow, he seems a little more…normal. On your level. You can’t help but lean down and brush a kiss to his bare forehead.

He blinks in surprise at the affectionate little touch, but then he smiles softly, gentle creases in the corners of his beautiful eyes. Without a word he gently wraps one arm around your hips, giving you a brief squeeze, before dropping his limb and closing his eyes, clearly expecting you to get to work.

And so you do. You wet down his thick hair, working the shampoo through it, making sure that all the bits of food are gone. His fiery hair darkens to almost burgundy in the water, and your touch turns reverent. “You’re very beautiful too,” you murmur, stroking your fingers through his sudsy hair.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, clearly enjoying the wash and scalp massage you’re giving him. You smile, enjoying the thought of bringing him some form of pleasure. His face is relaxed, any tension gone…it makes you happy.

You rinse his hair clean, then pick up the bottle of oil. You nibble your lip, never having used something like this before, but you figure it can’t be much different from conditioner. “Could you…I mean, I would like a comb to work this through your hair.”

He lifts his hand and a comb appears, sturdy but also golden. “Will this suffice?” he asks, not opening his eyes.

“Yes, that’s perfect,” you reply, gently taking it from him. You spend a good deal of time making sure the oil reaches every strand, and he’s quiet, just enjoying your ministrations. “Does this get left in for a while?” you ask softly, unsure if you’re meant to wash it out immediately.

“Yes. I usually rinse it out once I am done with the rest of my wash,” he murmurs.

“Okay.” You set the comb aside, twisting the mass of his hair up and out of the way. Then you pause. “Um…what about your beard? Does that get the same treatment?”

“Yes. Go ahead.”

You do so, using the shampoo and then the oil on his beard. No one you’ve been with had this kind of facial hair before. You found it quite intimate to take care of him like this, your heart thrumming in your chest.

It doesn’t help that his eyes have opened, watching you work.

Once his beard is taken care of, you grab the bar of soap and the washcloth. There’s a gentle scent to the lather, sandalwood and spices, without being overwhelming. It’s extremely pleasant, and you can’t wait to smell it on his skin. The thought makes you flush faintly, and he chuckles, curving a hand over your hip and making your blush deepen.

“What thoughts run through your mind, my beautiful one?” he rumbles, his thumb stroking over the small of your back.

“I-It’s just…this soap smells very nice,” you explain, dropping your gaze shyly as you start scrubbing the cake from his shoulder. “I-I’m just…expecting it to smell really good on you.”

“Is that so?”

“Y-Yeah.”

He makes an approving noise. “It is adorable how flustered you get over the sensual, my little one. There is no shame in such thinking–in fact, I’m pleased that you enjoy this scent. I shall keep using it, just for you.”

“Oh!” You flush, but you can’t stop the smile from curving your lips. “Thank you.” You swallow hard. “Y-You could…choose one you’d like on me, if you want.”

He smirks. “What makes you think I have not already done so?” He suddenly leans forward, pressing his nose to the hollow of your throat, and inhales deeply. “Mmm…” He lets out a rumbling purr of pleasure.

You gasp, your flesh raising in goosebumps at the touch. He hums at your touch, his other hand joining the first around your hip, gripping your curves and giving a soft squeeze. You groan, the washcloth coming to a stop on his skin, quite thoroughly distracted from your job.

His lips brush over your pulse point, once, twice, the touches leaving you trembling. Then he pulls away, eyes flashing molten in the low candlelight. “Come on now,” he purrs, a dark delight in his voice for getting you so flustered. “You have a job to do.”

Swallowing thickly, most of the moisture in your mouth having moved south, you start scrubbing him once more. The food stains slowly disappear as you cleanse his skin, and you can feel his gaze on you the entire time.

The mess finally clean, he plucks the cloth from you and shifts, sitting up more fully. His arm suddenly swipes around your waist, massive and thick, and you’re pulled onto his lap with a gasp. You feel his breath puff over the side of your neck, you feel his lips brush just under your ear, and you tremble as you sit on his massive thigh. “Your turn,” he rasps, his voice rumbling into your back.

You’re not sure you’re going to survive this.

His huge hand cups the back of your head, and he leans you down, holding you steady as your hair dips below the water. His other hand strokes through the wet strands, getting out as much of the food particles as he can. He’s…actually shockingly gentle with you, making sure he doesn’t pull too much. The feel of your head cradled in his palm…you exhale slowly, and for the first time that wasn’t because you were boneless from an orgasm, you can feel yourself fully relax.

He smiles as he feels the release of your tension. “Good girl,” he purrs softly, and you smile and close your eyes, trusting him to take care of you.

And take care of you he does. He washes your hair and gives it the same oil treatment you did for him. Then he scrubs the food from your skin, rinsing you clean, and all the while you just relax into him.

That is, until he’s finished rinsing you clean.

The oil is washed out, the suds left floating in the water, and he carries you out of the tub. You can feel his cock, fully hard against your ass as he doesn’t even bother with a towel. He just carries you into the bedroom, still dripping, and lays you down on the edge of the bed. “G-Ganondorf, we should–”

“Quiet,” he replies, his voice commanding. You fall silent as he gently pulls your legs apart, his eyes fixed on your pussy. You flush darkly, and he can feel your thigh muscles push against his hands, as if trying to close your legs. He smirks, his gaze piercing yours for a moment. “Do you seek to deny me the sight of your desire, little one?” he asks, almost laughing. “My fingers have already been inside you, have already sent your body soaring. What is left to feel so modest about?”

Your words are locked behind your embarrassment, and so you hide your face behind your hands instead.

He does laugh, now, a full-throated and husky sound that dances wonderfully over your nerves. “Very well. Hide if you wish, but that will not stop me from enjoying the fruits of your body…”

You expect him to dive right in after a statement like that, but you don’t feel anything. He just looks at you for a long moment, and though you’re hiding, you can almost feel his eyes on you.

His thumbs press to your outer lips suddenly, and you inhale sharply at the touch. Slowly, almost tenderly, he rubs them up and down, stroking the outside of your pussy and building the flames of your desire. His skin is calloused, but it feels divine on such a sensitive spot. He rubs all the way up, caressing through the soft curls of hair, then all the way back down, and as he moves up again he gently pulls your lips apart.

“Such sweet petals,” he purrs, now moving his touch to the insides of your outer lips. You gasp his name, and he sees your entrance twitch as you clench around nothing. “Your body wants to be filled with me…do not worry, my little beauty. We will get there.”

He mimics his previous motions, his thumbs rubbing up, and this time the very tips of his thumbs brush ever so gently over each side of your clit. A jolt snaps against your nerves, and you cry out, bucking up against his touch. “Lay still,” he grumbles. You try your best, settle yourself back against the wet silk underneath you as his thumbs trace their way back down.

As he draws them back up, this time you feel his skin is more slick. You’ve started leaking for him, your desire coating his thumbs and aiding in his journey, and this time his touch on your clit is less harsh and more delicious. You whimper in pleasure, your hands curling into the sheets at your side as he groans softly.

“Your nectar smells delicious, little one. Heady, but delicate. Oh, I will enjoy drinking from your spring…”

Your toes curl at his words, desire making your skin flush. He’s being almost poetic, and you wonder at it, wonder if this is how he becomes when he’s enjoying his lover. You definitely don’t mind.

But then he leans forward and flutters his tongue in your folds, and your brain shuts down any thinking at all.

This…him…is the best thing you’ve ever felt in your life. Soft, slick, thorough is his questing tongue as he laps slowly through your folds. He groans, his voice a rumble through your flesh, and your legs turn to water, your bare feet pressing to his shoulder blades. He hums at the feel and continues his slow, exquisite torture, pausing here or there to suckle on your lips, to run his nose through your damp curls. Every nerve on your cunt alights at his touch, arousal threatening to swallow you whole, and you mewl desperately, a soft, broken sound that makes his hands tighten on your thighs. You’re sure that later there will be finger-shaped bruises…but the thought simply makes you shiver.

Your hands leave the sheets, reaching down to curl through his hair, and he groans softly, giving you a sudden soft suckle onto your clit as a reward. You cry out, your hips trying to arch off the bed, but his strength isn’t to be denied, and you stay right there. Right where he wants you.

His clever tongue dips down now, pressing against your weeping entrance, lapping at your slick eagerly, greedily, as though you were the finest wine. He curls it up, firming it, pressing it into you centimeters at a time before pulling out, teasing you with what you could have but never giving you what you want. It swirls and licks and he groans and growls and you are melting.

Your clit aches for him, the pressure enough to nearly reduce you to babbling pleas. Never in your life have you felt this aroused, this desperate for someone else. “Please,” you beg, your eyes hazy with lust as you look down at the god between your legs.

His golden eyes flick to you, meeting your desire-drunk gaze, the corners crinkling in amusement…

…and then he shoves his tongue inside you as far as he can.

You shriek wordlessly, one leg kicking out, the other heel drumming on his back. His lips are firm to your flesh, nose pressing hard to your clit, and that tongue, that tongue, is writhing deep in your channel, stroking along your walls, fucking you as his fingers did earlier. He licks at your insides, drinking down your gushing slick, and all the while his nose rubs on your clit at his motions, grinding and brushing in equal measures. You can feel your orgasm lighting deep in your belly, the swirling pleasure soaring higher and higher, and you think he’ll stop, to draw out the torture but he doesn’t, he keeps going, feeling the sudden fluttering of your walls, growling and redoubling his efforts and his sounds are muffled into your cunt as the pressure begins to crack…

You come, and you come and you come and you come and he bellows into your flesh as he feels your walls squeeze hard around his tongue.

Your body is still twitching in orgasm as he pulls his tongue out of you, and he pulls you up, your legs up around his shoulders as he looms over you. His cock is suddenly nestled between your thighs, pressed tight against your drenched cunt, and his arms wrap around your legs, squeezing them gently together. He groans deeply at your body surrounding everything but his tip, and he begins to move, dragging the underside of his cock through your slick, making the glide easier.

He speeds up, his hips slapping against your ass, and you cry out as there’s a near constant drag on your throbbing clit. “There we go,” he all but growls, pressing his lips to the side of your calf muscle. “Drench me in you, get me nice and ready…” Then he huffs a laugh and snaps his fingers. You feel a bit of coolness at your throat, and he smirks. “Good thing one of us is not lust drunk…”

You flush darkly. “T-Thank you for remembering,” you murmur, curling your hand around the triangle charm that’s quickly warming from your body heat.

For a split second, his expression softens, and he nods in response.

Then he pushes your legs apart and guides his tip to your sopping entrance. The sheer size of him is so intimidating that you feel yourself tense, and he pauses. “Now, this will not do,” he rumbles, and his hands rub gently at your thighs. “You must relax for me, beautiful one. I promise, even someone of my size will not hurt as long as you stay pliable.”

“I-I’m sorry,” you murmur, flushing darkly. “I…I’ve never had anything even half your size.”

He smirks faintly, eyes glinting down at you, spots of gold in his shadowed face. “Do not apologize for what you feel.” He looks thoughtfully down at you, then chuckles and lowers you back down to the bed. “Well, I suppose I will just have to spend more time opening your body for me.”

He shifts, laying down near the head of the huge mattress, and he reaches out, wrapping one hand around your bicep (his fingers meet around your arm, and a thrill runs through you once more at how deliciously small you feel). He pulls you up to him; you let out a slight laugh of exhilaration, and he smirks in amusement. He presses your back to his chest, his arm curled around your waist so he may cup and knead your tits, and his right hand slides down your thigh.

He pulls your leg up and tucks your foot behind his knee. You feel his fingers brush over your curls, then down over your lips, wet with your own dew. You choke on a gasp as one thick finger presses deep into your sopping heat. “Relax, little one,” he all but coos into your ear, his beard scraping wonderfully against your neck. “I have you. Trust me to take care of your body, hm?”

You shiver hard, but you take a deep breath, feeling yourself shift around his finger. You let it out slowly, and with it you work on releasing all the nervous tension in your limbs. He’s patient with you, nibbling and kissing at your ear and neck, letting you work on relaxing yourself. Only once he feels your walls are gently gripping him instead of clenching does he speak. “Good girl,” he purrs, and he makes you whimper. “Stay just like that.”

Slowly, his finger pulls out, then pushes back in. Even just his index finger is a lot, much thicker than your own. But this is quite doable, and after only a few moments he’s moving easily in you. “Here is a second. You have taken two before, little one, you will be fine.”

A second finger pushes in, and you groan deeply at the gentle stretch. He can feel your walls tense for a second, but he’s patient, and before too long you relax once more around him. “There you go…my good girl,” he praises, and you all but melt against him. “How do you feel, my beauty?”

“Really good,” you murmur, and he feels you shivering gently. “I-I feel…full.”

He hums in amusement, and you make a strangled sort of sound in the back of your throat as he suddenly wiggles his fingers in you. “Not nearly full enough…yet…”

He works you open, slowly, playing your body like an instrument he’s familiar with, knowing just how to warm up your strings to make you sing. His fingers are slow, gentle as they rock in you, and after a few minutes of this he begins to make a scissoring motion. You gasp and clutch at him, turning your head to press your face to his chest.

“Shh, I have you,” he soothes, giving your breast a gentle squeeze with his left hand. “You are doing so well for me, little one…”

The praise makes you feel all warm once again. His thumb gently rubs your clit again, making you gasp his name, hips twitching. He chuckles softly, and then, on the next thrust in, he presses his ring finger in with his middle and index.

Your heart about stops. Three of those massive digits is more than you’ve ever taken in your life. Your walls twitch and squeeze hard around his fingers. He growls, nipping down on your shoulder, his hand still for now. “So tight, my beauty…we must get you relaxed.”

All you can feel, all you can focus on, is the feeling between your legs. You’re so full, so achingly full…you pant softly, your eyes hazy as you feel your walls squeezing him, rippling gently around his fingers. He feels you trembling against him; you feel him smile against your shoulder.

Then his thumb starts rubbing over your clit, small, soft circles, and his name gets caught in your throat as you make a strangled cry and come. There was no warning, no build up–you’re so full that the sudden pressure, the sudden hard squeeze around his digits at the touch on your clit, forces you to come. You writhe against him, each squeeze of your walls around his thick fingers prolonging your orgasm, his thumb keeping you high. He’s growling softly, and as you get lost in the haze of pleasure, he pulls his fingers out and presses the tip of his cock in.

He growls something in a language you don’t recognize, but you know a curse when you hear one. And frankly, you agree: the stretch he’s giving you, even after preparing you like this, is incredible.

Slowly, achingly slowly, he pushes into you, inch by inch, until he bottoms out. You’re gasping his name, soft little puffs of breath, and he can feel a small bite of pain where your nails have dug into his thigh. It only makes him growl once more in approval. You feel impaled, you feel so thoroughly full of him that you don’t think you’ll ever be empty again.

“You feel…exquisite,” he rasps, leaning down to brush his lips over the shell of your ear. “You have all of me you can fit, my little beauty…I knew you could do it…”

“G-Ganondorf,” you gasp again. You press one hand above where he’s filling you full, and you can feel him, feel his firmness inside you. You whimper.

“I know…do not worry, we are going to stay just like this for a little while,” he purrs, nipping playfully at your ear, at the side of your neck. “I do not want to hurt you. We must get you used to me, hm?”

You can only nod, quivering against his chest. He makes soothing sounds as you wait, his fingers stroking over your skin, almost delicate touches that serve to make you shiver and twitch around him. But you’re relaxing, melting back into his ministrations, and slowly you feel the death grip your walls have on him easing.

“There…that is much better, my lovely,” he praises. “Now, stay nice and still for me.”

Gently, he rocks his hips forward. It’s less of a thrust and more of a roll, but the drag he gets against your walls, the way you can almost feel those veins, feel the edges of his cock-head pressing and rubbing against you…curses fall from your mouth, and your hand scrabbles at his thigh.

He groans your name, slowly rocking and grinding his hips into yours, until he’s pulling out an inch and pushing back in, another inch, another, and he’s speeding up, unable to resist the pull of your body on his lust. Before too long, he’s pulling out to his tip and thrusting back in, snapping his hips, and you’re crying out, his name a prayer on your lips as the pleasure scours you from the inside out.

“Come with me,” he growls–no, commands into your ear. “You are going to come with me, lovely. Let us peak together…” His fingers find your clit once more, rubbing rapid, tight circles over the oversensitive bud.

You shriek his name, your hips jerking, and you’re not sure if you’re trying to move towards him or away. “C-Can’t, c-can’t, ‘s too much!”

“You can, and you will,” he growls, not letting up. He speeds up, both his fingers and his hips, fucking into you with barely controlled strength. “Come, little one, come with me!”

You’re helpless but to obey.

You shriek his name as you’re flung into an orgasm that once again has your vision whiting out, your hearing cutting off with a sharp whine. You lose control of your limbs, thrashing against him, as he roars at feeling your walls absolutely strangling his cock. His cum pours into you in thick waves, and you can almost feel the pulses against your walls. Your slick and his cum are fucked out of you, all but splashing over you both, and the feeling has you whining as the tail end of your orgasm begins to fade, leaving you absolutely boneless on the bed.

The only sound for long moments is the nearby gentle snapping of the fireplace, and the ragged panting from the both of you. He’s still inside you, his cock slowly softening in your walls, and when he slips out you wine softly. He chuckles, a low sound that’s still fairly breathless. “Are you…able to speak?” he asks, and you feel him shifting on the bed behind you, his massive hand curling gently over your hip.

“Mmph,” you say in response. Your limbs feel heavy, weighed down by the force of so much pleasure in your body at once.

“Are you in pain?” he asks, and you feel him shifting you, checking you over just in case.

“No,” you mumble. “Well…a bit sore…but you’re huge, so…makes sense…”

He chuckles again. “Fair enough. That will fade.” He stands, and when you peel your eyes open you’re a little gratified to see his legs wobble faintly. He notices your grin and huffs faintly. “It has been some time since I had pleasure like that, little one. Do not give me that look.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you reply, but it’s obvious you’re trying not to laugh.

He tries to look stern, but he can’t help the faint smile that breaks out anyway. “You are lucky I like you,” he replies, and pulls you up and into his arms. He walks into the bathroom, setting you back down into the hot water of his tub, and you flush as, for a moment, the water turns cloudy around you. He smirks, golden eyes glinting in amusement.

He gets you cleaned up, for which you’re grateful because your limbs are still like jelly. Once you’re clean and dry, he snaps his fingers in front of his bed, and the sheets are clean. “Handy,” you murmur, your cheek pressing to his shoulder. “Literally.”

He snorts. “Did you just seriously make a pun?”

You grin against his skin. “Maybe.”

“I am rethinking my fondness for you,” he grumbles, but he’s still gentle as he gets the both of you under the covers.

“Nah, you like me,” you chirp, already feeling sleep tugging at you.

“Hmph. Hush, my beautiful one, you need your rest.” You can hear the promise in his voice as he adds, “I am definitely not done with you…”

Too far into slumber’s pull to answer, the last thought that crosses your mind is: Good…because neither am I.

#ganondorf #ganondorf x reader #the legend of zelda #legend of zelda fanfiction #my writing

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