#the pattern here is that i have daddy issues (this surprises no one)

[iersei]

voted glenn close 💪💪💪💪 can i request a yuma tsukumo with astral?

[GET A SKETCH REQUEST BY: VOTING GLENN CLOSE HERE + BONUS POINTS FOR VOTING FOR NICKY AND GABLE HERE]

thank you for supporting the vote for my silly pathetic traumatized old man with daddy issues and for letting me draw my favorite silly pathetic traumatized preteens and alien boyfriend also with daddy issues <3

favorites of all time <333

#yugioh #yugioh zexal #keyshipping #yuma tsukumo #astral #astral zexal #tossing my art into the void #moonbisexualsharktamerr #draw me like one of your close boys #The Advanced Voter Fraud Experience #the pattern here is that i have daddy issues (this surprises no one)

[chimcess]

Waterlog || pjm (1)

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

masterlist || next || playlist

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

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

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

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

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

With an annoyed sigh, he nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s great to hear,” He smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She thought for a second before replying.

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

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

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

“Drive safe. See you in a bit.”

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

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

“Love you,” She sing-songed playfully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hiding behind humor was a pastime. 

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s young, ain’t he?”

I nodded, “23, I think.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dani beamed, “Daddy said the same thing.”

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

“Your dad’s a smart guy,” I joked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s starting,” Hoseok announced.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I shrugged, “Ledecky is a great swimmer.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. Night, Chika.”

“Night, Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Crystal!” They all replied in unison.

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

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

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

“Butterfly,” Jordan replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Always cutting to the chase,” He joked.

I did not laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is my team.”

“And this is Jimin Park.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?” A soft voice called out.

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

“Yeah, can you see me?”

I shook my head, “Just your icon.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you see me?” He asked.

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

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

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

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

“No worries. I’m not in any rush.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Could’ve fooled me,” I teased.

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

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

“Talk to you later, Park.”

“See you, coach.”

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

Jimin: 👶

I did not respond until I had my flight booked.

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

He replied a few minutes later.

Jimin: Do you need a lot of space?

Me: Not really

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

I smiled. He really was a sweetheart. 

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

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

Jimin: I was raised to respect the elderly.

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

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

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

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

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

First work then play, I told myself. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Andy snorted, “He means well.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I pulled a face, “Audrey?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She smiled sadly, “I think you can.”

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

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sounds like we have company!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” I quickly followed behind him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hope the concert was nice.”

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

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

“Hey,” I replied lamely. “Eloise?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How old are they?” I asked.

“Almost 4.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t look very impressed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your hip might give out, granny.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I put your stuff in your room.”

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now I felt like an asshole.

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

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

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

That made him laugh, “What? Why?”

I shrugged, giggling with him. 

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

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

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

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I nodded, “See you.”

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

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

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

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

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

"Likewise," I replied.

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

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

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

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

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

#park jimin fanfic #park jimin fanfiction #park jimin #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #jimin x y/n #jimin x reader #jimin x you #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts x reader #bts smut #jimin smut #bts angst #jimin angst #bts fluff #jimin fluff #jimin fanfic #bts x fem!reader #jeon jungkook #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #kim taehyung #kim seokjin #min yoongi #older reader

[teecupangel]

i read this fic where bayek becomes desmond's father and it got me thinking that he'd make such a great father for our stabby bois with daddy-issues hahahaha best founding father ever

Bayek found them by accident.

Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that Senu found them while he was connected to her. He felt her take over and Bayek had been surprised.

The only time Senu had ever taken over when Bayek was connected to her was when she noticed that Khemu had been a babe and had gotten out of the house without anyone realizing it.

That was the reason why Bayek knew that it was important to let Senu take control.

And she showed them to him.

Four children, the oldest being perhaps ten or nine years old while the youngest could have only been a few months old.

They all wore simple white robes, the whiteness having been dulled by dirt. The oldest held the small baby in his arms, glaring at Bayek with golden eyes.

They all looked quite similar to one another, especially the two oldest boys so Bayek had assumed they were brothers.

… and orphans.

The oldest boy was the one to answer all his questions but he only gave out his name.

Altaïr.

They were staying in a rickety house that looked abandoned and Bayek couldn’t help but be worried. He had been in the area to help build the bureau so he had asked the two Hidden Ones stationed there if they could keep an eye on the children.

“What children are you talking about, Amun?”

.

What children?

That questioned plagued Bayek.

They have not seen any orphans around the area, they said.

And Bayek believed them.

No.

It was more accurate to say…

He believed that they didn’t see any children.

Which meant that these children were able to stay out of their way for many months now.

Perhaps even years.

Bayek visited them once more, bringing a basket filled with fresh baked bread.

But they weren’t in the house.

Connecting with Senu proved to be the right call.

Bayek could not find them but he knew Senu saw them when she took over their connection once more.

They had moved into another abandoned house…

And it seemed that they were not surprised when Bayek entered their new home.

The oldest of them simply looked annoyed.

Bayek knew that his intrusion was not welcomed so he simply left after placing the basket in the middle of the room.

The following day, he checked with Senu once more.

And, as he had guessed, the children had changed home once more.

It truly says a lot about the current situation here that there were many abandoned buildings and homes that four small children could use without anyone knowing.

He brought them food once more.

But this time, he also brought fresh goat milk.

And left with the feeling of those golden eyes glaring at his back.

.

This went on for weeks.

Bayek always made time to bring the children food wherever they go.

At some point, they started to return to their previous locations but never in the same pattern…

It was always random.

And Bayek found himself smiling when he saw them wearing the clothes he had bought for them. Just as simple as their white robes but cleaner.

The baby that was usually in one of the older children’s arms would even wave his hand at him as if to greet him.

And he finally learned the other boys’ names.

Ezio was the second oldest and was the one who talked to Bayek with a lighter tone than his older brother. His name and his smile made Bayek remember Esio but that boy was in Rome right now, being trained to be a Hidden One by Aya.

The third oldest boy was named Ratonhnhaké:ton and he was usually quiet. The first few times Bayek had problem saying his name, he had suggested to just call him Connor but Bayek could see the annoyance in Altaïr’s eyes and the frown decorating Ezio’s face. As well as the understanding and resignation in Ratonhnhaké:ton’s face. So Bayek never called him Connor. The first time he was able to say Ratonhnhaké:ton’s name without messing up, Ratonhnhaké:ton looked surprised for a brief moment before he smiled at Bayek for the very first time.

The youngest of them was Desmond and he’s always being carried by one of his brothers. They were protective of the child, perhaps a bit too overprotective in Bayek’s eyes, to be honest. But Desmond was a quiet baby and Bayek had wondered if perhaps the baby could not talk but he would make cooing sounds and babble softly at times.

It was like…

Desmond was taught to be quiet.

They all were.

.

“Altaïr…”

Altaïr turned to look at the entrance of their 16th safehouse and nodded as he greeted back, “Bayek.”

The old man who had continually followed them no matter how many times they changed safehouses stayed at the other side of the small hole, crouching so he could see inside.

“Ba! Ba!” Desmond waved his hands at Bayek and Altaïr kept his hold on the baby firmly, knowing that, given a chance, Desmond would crawl towards the old man. Desmond had been crawling all over and all of them had been worried that he’d hit his head on something.

“Where’s Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton?”

“Out.” Altaïr replied vaguely. He knew the old man knew how they would steal food and other items they need from the richer part of the city and always had that small frown whenever Altaïr made vague comments concerning their lifestyle.

It wasn’t like the daily food would be enough for them, after all.

And Desmond needed more than just goat milk.

“I will be leaving tomorrow.”

“I see.”

“If it’s alright with you four, I-”

“We’re not joining your cult.” Altaïr cut him off as he dangled a bell in front of Desmond.

Desmond giggled and grabbed the bell, successfully getting distracted from crawling towards Bayek.

“It’s not a cult.” Bayek sighed and Altaïr didn’t bother to tell him they knew that. They just enjoyed calling it a cult even if it wasn’t true.

“And I know you four have been playing tricks on them.” Bayek said, trying to not sound like he was scolding Altaïr. The two Hidden Ones had been the target of harmless pranks for months now, including a very memorable incident where Ezio had actually managed to steal their coin purses that he returned to them… in the bureau after he and Ratonhnhaké:ton had sneaked in.

But Bayek could not afford himself to get distracted.

He was here on an important mission after all.

“I wasn’t going to suggest that you stayed in the bureau. I was going to ask…” Bayek stared at Altaïr as he asked, “… would you four like to join me in my travels?”

Altaïr stared at him for a moment before he looked away as he said, “I’ll talk to my brothers about it.”

Bayek’s lips curved into a small smile, already knowing that would be Altaïr’s answer, “Then… I will be leaving at dawn. I will wait in the east gate.”

He pushed the basket of food into the hole before leaving, knowing Altaïr would simply find it annoying if he was to try and plead his case.

All he could was hope.

And wait for tomorrow.

.

I think the fic nonny is talking about is Haris by CherShare. Do give it a try if you’re interested.

#is this reincarnation? #time travel? #transmigration? #idk #you decide #i guess #yeah even if desmond is a baby #bayek is used to including him into the conversation #because the others do so #assassin's creed #desmond miles #altaïr ibn la'ahad #ezio auditore #ratonhnhaké:ton #connor kenway #bayek of siwa #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed

[v3nusxsky]

im godly obsessed with sub!emily. please write smth filthy with sub!emily 🙏🙏

Miss chief of whores 18+

*Authors note~ submissive Emily here we go, I've never written from this point of veiw

Trigger warnings~ sub Emily, dom r daddy kink degrading praise throat fucking tears (good kind) semi public sex punishment toys orgasm denial

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

To say that your temper was flaring with Emily's lack of respect for your agreed upon rules would be a complete and utter understatement. The whole team were stranded in Vegas for one night due to the jet being on loan to another team. Reid scampered off to see his mother while the rest of the team hit the clubs. Derek immediately found himself a pretty lady to spend the with while you ladies and Hotch decided to have a few drinks. Emily was really pushing the boundaries as she "innocently" flirted with the bar tender to get an extra round of free drinks. Clearly she needed reminding who she belonged too and you were more than willing to provide it.

As soon as your girlfriend came back to the table you immediately decided to set your plan into motion. Your fingers trailing up and down her thigh which was hardly covered by the little black dress she had adorned. You made sure to bring your lips to the shell of her ear, "who do you belong too pretty girl" you purred teasingly. The little whine that Emily offered went straight to your core. With a quick scan of the room you knew you were safe, "I said who do you fucking belong to slut" you growled letting go when she whimpered a very quiet, "daddy."

You knew one of Emily's kinks involved sexual acts in public so you didn't waste the opportunity to trail your fingers from her toned thighs to her now soaked underwear, just teasing her clit with some friction but not enough to be overly pleasurable. "Keep your mouth shut slut, got it? One sound out of you and I stop. Let everyone here know what a slut you out. The big chief of the BAU, nothing but a common whore for her agent"

Emily took a little bit of your torture before a whimper left her hardly parted lips, causing JJ to focus her attention on her friend. "Em? You okay?" She murmured looking between the pair of you. "Go on baby, tell Jay how much you love her watching you get fucked right here" you purred purposely slipping a finger past her panties and into her slick heat. You watched JJs eyes darken as she realised what was happening, "we should probably go to the hotel room right?" You murmured lovingly kissing her cheek which caused the raven haired woman to leave with you, stumbling with ever few steps she took.

That was how Emily found herself naked and spread out on the hotel bed, you'd carefully and expertly tied her limbs to the bed in the most prettiest red rope you owned. A vibrator stuffed into her aching cunt, securely fastened with this beautiful lavender rope, one of your favourites actually. You quickly set the pattern to edge and edge only, before running yourself a steamy hot bath to soak in.  You didn't care for how long you'd be in the bath. Hearing the whines and mewls of your lover only aiding your enjoyment of the situation. Normally, your girlfriend had no issue continuing a decent volume but right now she was a hot mess.

You weren't surprised to hear JJ enter the room, after all Emily was pathetically whimpering for you to let her cum. The volume is what alerted JJ to come and check on you. Quickly drying off and adorning your favourite strap, the one that caused her cunt to tightly suffocate daddy's dick, "ah JJ nice of you to finally take the hint and join us, you purred stalking over to the blonde. "I uh I'm not" she stumbled as the toys still worked Emily up to the edge once more as she attempted to squirm away from her. 

A loud moan of pleasure tore through Emily and you smirked at how JJ couldn't move her eyes from the pretty pussy that was currently leaking onto the sheets. "Such a whore, JJ is here and you can't help but put on a show, I'm in a good mind to offer JJ to use you like a slut" you pondered watching how both women seemed rather interested in the prospect of that. "Jay, did you need something?" You murmured watching the blonde flush bright red, "uh um no I heard sounds and I thought you were in trouble so o came to check" "Well as you can see I had a bath and this one here was whoring herself out like a good girl, now would you like to join us or shall we arrange another time?"  The blonde woman nodded to the latter and you knew she would be back, seeing her friend in such a way had a clear affect on her.

As soon as JJ left you untied the vibrator and revealed in her sigh of relief, "poor baby, did you think daddy was done?" You teased while lubing up the faux dick just a little. "I'm gonna fuck that dirty mouth of yours" you purred untying her enough to adjust the position making her more comfortable. You quickly slotted underneath her body and urged her head to your dick, "suck sweetheart" you murmured griping at her raven hair.

You couldn't deny how hot she looked on her hands and knees, head bobbing up and down the shaft as drool and spit started to escape her mouth and mascara ran down her cheeks due to her pretty tears. "Oh fuck baby, you look so good choking on my dick, those pretty tears. Is daddy to big hm? Can't you take it? Want to fuck that pretty fuck hole now" you purred urging her head off the strap, a whine of protest left your lover, "such a fucking whore, I know you love daddy's dick making those pretty tears fall but I want to fuck that pretty cunt till your begging me to stop."

You happily shifted to kneel behind her, lining the silicone head up with her folds and drenching it in her wetness. "Oh fuck sweetheart! So fucking wet for daddy. Such a good girl" you moaned happily before gripping her hips and roughly thrusting into her fluttering hole. "Oh daddy daddy fuck me god please fuck yes need you" she mewled instantly pushing her hips backwards in an attempt to make the tip reach further in her core. A harsh smack to the globe of her ass was enough to still her futile attempts. "fucking whore, can't fucking wait imma fuck you like a bitch in heat then, dirty dirty girl always wanting more" you panted before speeding up your thrusts bottoming her out every time.

"Daddy! Fuck please need to fuck god more" she whimpered as you watched her greedy hold drag your cock back in. "Cum whore" was all you offered before reaching down to play with her clit. As she was thrown over the edge you instantly followed. Your thrusts slowed just the right amount as you watched your lover quiver underneath you. "So good baby, such a good girl, I'm gonna take it out now okay? Then we can get you in the bath hmm?"

You did just that. Ran a bath for her, nice and warm like she liked before setting the bedroom up with drinks and snacks for her,  then going to help her out of the bath due to unstable legs and carried her bridal style to the bed. "Drink and eat baby" you murmured kissing her cheek and watching to ensure she did. Only then did you both settle into bed and she snuggled on your chest. "Daddy?" She murmured almost so quite you nearly missed it. "Yes my love?" She seemed to be shy and you had a feeling you knew the next question. "Would you really let Jay play?" She mumbled shyly. "Would you like that sweetheart?" To which she nodded happily. "Good because me and JJ have spoken about it. She would like some experience in our lifestyle and I think you're the perfect girl to show her what a good submissive is. So soon baby okay? Now get some rest." Was all you offered stroking her bare back and encouraging sleep to take over.

Word count~ 1425

#fanfic #anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader smut #ssa prentiss #SSA prentiss x reader #anon requested

[lasquadrasfuckhouse]

i LOOOVE the concept of la squadra hanging out with trish, whether they got to her before bucci gang or not, i think they help protect her from the boss and plot to take him down together so everyone wins and she gets lots of dads/uncles/big brothers like she deserves

so here's how trish spends time with la squadra!!!

risotto honestly feels awkward cause he doesn't know the first thing about teenage girls, but he's pretty good at maintaining his demeanor so trish can't tell at first. she's figures it out tho and she thinks it's kind of funny. he's always honest with her about shit which she appreciates. he acknowledges the loss of her mother and offers his understanding; he doesn't tell her all about his cousin, at least not right away, but he gets across that he's dealt with grief at her age too and it honestly helps her a lot that there's someone who gets what she's going through. she comes to trust him a lot and it tickles his heart!!!!! he may not know what he's doing but he knows thats HIS daughter now thank u

prosciutto is always barking at everyone to behave because he will not tolerate their usual rowdiness and dumbassery with trish around. he's stern but doesn't act like he can boss her around, polite and gives her space. his nurturing instincts kick in so she finds that he's often the one checking in on her and encouraging her to eat. have u brushed ur teeth? u hydrated? he might fuss more if he thought it might help her but her distant attitude gives him the sense that a hands-off approach might be better. she appreciates the care while acknowledging her independence.

pesci is just nervous cause he's a nervous guy but trish is also intimidating in her own way. he has no idea what to do cause not only does he also not know shit about teenage girls, but he's always been the youngest so he's fumbling with not being in that position anymore. is always offering things like '.... you want my snack?' he's trying. she thinks he's kind of a dork. he has his own daddy issues tho so trish is surprised when pesci becomes very defensive and protective in his own right cause he understands the feeling of being unwanted and it sucks. he doesn't want her to feel that way. she warms up to him a lot more then.

formaggio often just makes her scoff or roll her eyes or look in that way that u kno she's judging u cause he's a rowdy man. he takes it in stride tho and laughs it off which improves her opinion. because she's pretty closed off at first he might try to find ways to make her laugh, especially cause she's going through some shit y'know. he considers it a victory when she cracks a smile. she warms up to his dumbassery and laughs more often. she's pleasantly surprised when he takes her seriously cause he knows what it's like to be underestimated. he picks up on her speech patterns and will often also tell everyone 'get it girl'

illuso and trish are honestly like two peas in a pod. they immediately click because they have the same attitude, and similar tastes to boot (her, illuso, and melone end up bonding over music). she likes that illuso won't be overbearing and he's a bitch on her level. they bond over vogue and he promises to do her nails when they're out of this mess. if one of the other squadmates teases them about it he'll immediately be like ARE YOU INVALIDATING OUR GIRL'S INTERESTS. DO U THINK U CAN DISRESPECT HER HUH. he fondly calls her girlie, she calls him lulu. the squad starts referring to them as long lost siblings cause they have the same expressions.

melone is polite, patient, and shows his concern in subtle ways so as not to overwhelm her. trish likes being around him cause he levels with her and he's pretty chill, which is a conscious effort on his part to offer her normalcy and security; he knows shit abt developmental psychology and a chaotic environment in the wake of losing a parent is just awful for a kid. he checks in on her feelings and allows her to talk about whatever she wants at her own pace, and she needs time, but she might eventually open up about stuff like her grief, and the feelings of helplessness and guilt that others are getting hurt protecting her. when spice girl manifests, melone is the first to catch on that she represents trish's adaptability and confidence in taking charge of her fate, and he tells her he's very proud of her, which makes her smile!!!!

ghiaccio is, you guessed it! awkward cause he doesn't know a thing about teenage girls. but the difference with him is he's brash and gets frustrated by his awkwardness; trish just kind of tunes him out as another clown in the circus she got stuck with. they kind of just avoid each other at first. the first attempt at an icebreaker (lol) is ghiaccio offering her like a pastry or smth and being like 'sorry your dad is trying to kill you.' '...... thanks?' this man does not know how to be normal. eventually they bond over their shared love of cats and purim. she thinks it's funny when he yells at people on her behalf.

sorbet and gelato being middle aged gay men already act sort of dadly to the younger gays of the squad so they are THRILLED to dote on this little lesbian, they LOVE this girl and she is insta-adopted, and trish actually does not mind at all because she simultaneously thinks they're cool, fun, affectionate, hilarious to see in action, and occasionally endearingly cringe. they constantly applaud trish's sass and audacity. sorbet is really fucking funny in a deadpan way and it gets her smiling even at first when she's more closed off, and she finds gelato's antics entertaining. they're both extremely impressed with how confidently she pulls a switchblade and will offer to help her hone her knife skills; she becomes absolutely lethal under their care. but their outpouring of love also encourages her softer and more caring side, which neither want her to lose. they're very proud of her for still being sweet even when she has every right to be jaded.

#HELLO!!!!! #parental death -/ #grief -/ #long post -/ #trish una #la squadra #risotto nero #prosciutto #pesci #formaggio #illuso #melone #ghiaccio #gelato #sorbet #vento aureo

[norcalbruja]

The Ocean Crew just coming up and freaking me out again

Around Thanksgiving / Colonizer-Celebration day, I had a dream where I was in the sequel to Black Panther: Wakanda Forever. Then me and Tenoch Huerta found out after a party that our shit-for-brains friends took both our cars to ferry the drunk folks home without asking first, so that means two POC got stranded at midnight in the suburbs, trying to walk an hour back to my place. (It wouldn’t be overtly dangerous, but my town DOES have a Ku Klux Klan history and only really tolerates the “good/respectable” minorities, so a Brown Mexican AND a Brown Asian may not have been able to flag down anyone for help.)

I didn't think much about it because I'm a writer who has REALLY coherent dreams, in which Dream-Me also can't seem to get her shit together (seriously, she gets into some escapades!). I laughed about it and I just thought it was me being bitter about my new day-job until Namor/Kukulkan showed up in one of my meditations going, "Hello, love. Did you like the dream?"

And I was like "uhhhhhhhhhhhh yes??? Hello sir—I mean Your Majesty! Or are you actually some form of Tenoch Huerta?"

As noted with the pop-culture spirits when Eric Draven came around on Undas, I never know whether these guys are the CHARACTERS or the ACTORS. I've actually encountered Marvel-Namor a couple of times, but he is extremely high-minded and insistent on getting his way, so while he’s usually pretty civil, he’s still exhausting for my introvert commoner self to deal with.

Long story short, he is not the Feathered Serpent, but he is Mexican/Mayan and is A FUCKING BIG SNAKE (like 40-foot Titanoboa levels of Big Snake!!!). Like most of the other colonized water-spirits, Kukulkan seems to know MY Water-Spirit/Giant-Squid from... you know, Spanish colonization.

Also I’ve noticed a small but distinct pattern where indigenous reptile spirits (Ulupong the spitting cobra, Lola Buwaya the crocodile, and now Namor/Kukulkan the goddamn Titanoboa) just don’t have any fucking chill. For species that are seen as cold-blooded/uncaring and often cowardly by Westerners, the difference is really surprising.

Insert “reptile spirits with metaphorical snake-tongues” jokes here.

--

So Kukulkan refused to leave and demanded of the Water-Spirit, "What have you been doing all this time?! Are you just her attack dog and a bedwarmer?! You act like a mortal now! As if you know nothing of our kinsmen! The only thing left of you is your eyes!"

The Water-Spirit kind of flinched like they’ve talked about it before, and he told Kukulkan, “I couldn’t grant wishes even at my peak. I don’t know how much you expect me to do now.”

Kukulkan just seethed and went, “You can do more than grant wishes. You do yourself and your wife evil to think otherwise. You act like the Spanish won, but she clings to the scraps of you like a starving creature. Perhaps she should be the water-spirit. And you the young man who knows nothing of your people.”

Dionysus came over and said, “Sir, trash-talking a traumatized guy about how he acts like a squishy human might not be that motivating. Maybe tone it down a little?”

Kukulkan then snapped at him, “GODLING, LEAVE THE WATER-SPIRITS TO OUR OWN MATTERS! Your power is from your father! My power is from myself!”

So Dionysus clearly got pissed and just... left entirely. This is the second time an Extremely Old nature-spirit brushed him off as a "godling," and I think the added jab of 'you only got a job at Mount Olympus because your daddy runs the place' was another issue.

This is why Kukulkan is exhausting for me. He essentially acts like Marvel's Kukulkan--he's very capable and cares deeply about people, but he also has unnecessary shit to say if he doesn't consider YOU capable. Active/feudalistic nobility: Fun to watch/read in stories, not fun to deal with in real life, especially with my commoner ass. :/

Anyway, he took a while to stop demanding that the Water-Spirit just Get Better Already, but this morning he finally came up and admitted, "I am no idiot. I know the Spanish broke your husband's spirit. He is not the first or the last of our kin to become so."

And I'm like, "Okay, sir. Thank you for chilling out. I wish you did that a LITTLE bit earlier."

And as for their relationship dynamics, this is another instance of "these marginalized spirits are clearly Not Straight." Kukulkan and the Water-Spirit are this weird blend of "friends who lost touch" and "ex-boyfriends who had a falling out," because Kukulkan is polite to me but WAY more intense with the Water-Spirit, who also gets distinctly hurt when Kukulkan goes on his "I remember you used to be on fucking beast-mode all the time" rants.

Also, "Otherworldly Terror that doesn't fit anywhere else" note: You know how the Water-Spirit can turn into water-shaped-like-a-man, a wave, or a waterspout? I can't remember if I posted this here, but he can use his water-form to "sprint" long distances or to dissipate through various non-waterproof things.

He doesn't do it a lot because it wears him out and it also tends to freak me out as a solid-bodied human, but Kukulkan does it ALL THE TIME. He just disintegrates into a stream of water that is much bigger than an Average Human Body could hold, and then he fucking flies/teleports(???) wherever he needs to go.

#pop culture paganism #unverified personal gnosis

[iheartchv]

Hey I was hoping I could get a cod matchup? Sorry in advance for the yapping

Umm as for appearance I am 5’4” in my early twenties. I have layered curly brown hair that comes to just above my shoulder, blue eyes, freckles pale as hell, a few scars here and there that I’m kinda proud of (from various causes) I don’t really have a specific style it can range from a tank top and sweats to t-shirt and jeans or something completely wild, color coded decked out in jewelry, skirts, layers the whole bit. Relatively active build, used to be a gymnast until an injury now I just workout twice a week w a friend. Interests; I like movies top five rn probably Scream (1996), Spiderverse, 10 things I hate about you, the last unicorn, Dead poets society, +Star Wars cause I can’t leave it out. I like playing chess every now and then, I’d say I’m pretty good but I still have a ways to go. I’m also an artist, and I like music I can’t do anything music related I just like listening to it, all kinds. I like baking when I’m stressed, typically cookies during finals week at 2 am. My future prospects, or at least what they are currently, is just going to law school, after that I’m not really sure, I’ve thought ab going the military route, both of my parents served/are serving, so I’ve thought ab the possibility of being a military JAG or something in Intel, but I’m still feeling for it, I mostly like law cause I’m pretty good at it and I like knowing more than people. I’m Bi so my taste in Men/Women varies. As much as I’d like to say I don’t have a type, hot people are hot, there have been patterns in the past few fictional guys. Tbh my taste in men is shit, like I don’t have daddy issues, I have a great relationship with him, but my past fictional crushes say other wise. But basically, capability is HOT, if they’re good at something to the point of mastering it I’m entranced. Women are just pretty, there’s not much there. I’m relatively paranoid, even describing myself like this online is strange, I think it’s just growing up around military but I’m typically just cautious. That and trust issues. I’ve done some martial arts/self defense and I think sparring is really fun I just need someone to teach me. Also I am a huge simp (with shit taste as my friends say) I’m an ambiavert, so I like to be pretty adaptable depending on who I’m around. I’m also German/American but definitely more American than anything else, I ‘grew up’ in south Germany and we still have family there but since we moved here I’ve forgotten most of  the language. JFC in hindsight I am SO SORRY about all this I got carried away. I hope it didn’t come across as self absorbed 😭😅 thanks 

Sorry again 

🤔 I'll pair you with...

Captain John Price 🚬

Price might be the one to fall for you

If you ever decide/decided to join the military, him and Laswell will look through files and find you

He can't help but feel that you would bring something to the table

Recruiting you, along with many others, he'd be watching you

Through the tests, he'd be silently hoping you'd pass

When he asks to see you, you think you've done something wrong

Instead he just tells you that you've done a good job with all the training and tests he's put you through

"I admit, I thought you would call it quits anytime soon... but... you're determination surprised me."

"You've got guts, spirit. I like that"

He wants to take you under his wing and train you

He was right about you; there was something special there

Though he didn't know just how special you would be to him later on 🤭

After many months and near death experiences later, he'd come to realize he cares about you... a lot

💞

When off duty, he will take you somewhere to talk

Price doesn't play games, you know that

So... he tells you that he really likes you

All this time he'd spent getting to know you, he felt something he hadn't in a long time

One time, when he looked like he was about to fall asleep he was surprised that you showed so much concern for him; You wanted to do something, anything, for him

His hand gently held yours, showing how gentle he can be

"If you'll have me, love, I can make you happy... even if it takes my whole life to"

#//hope you like your matchup ^v^7~♡ #ask #request #call of duty matchup #cod matchup #matchup #match up #cod mw #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #call of duty modern warfare 3 #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod #call of duty #cod price #call of duty price #captain john price #john price #price call of duty #price x reader #pricexreader #iheartchv

[deedoop]

I'll Be There For You

CW: Non Sexual Age Play/Regression, Diapers, Bed-Wetting, Billy is Little

The bed was uncomfortably wet, the cold dampness between Billy’s legs making him shift and groan, eyes scrunched shut in what must’ve been a nightmare. Eddie blinked his eyes awake, he too could feel the sick dampness of the bed and could smell the sharp acrid scent of urine.

“Billy?” He whispered, lightly touching the blonde, “Billy.” He was accustomed to these nightmares..they kept happening, had been happening since Starcourt, been happening for six months, for the entire time they had been dating.

He shook Billy, the blonde whimpering and whining. When he woke up, he’d be little or at least sort of little. They’d been trying it, to help with difficult emotions and difficult memories, age regression. At first Billy had been so shy and aggressively against it, didn’t care that the therapists had recommended it to work through his issues, he didn’t care that being coddled and loved worked, he had been too stuck in his head.

Now three months later, Billy still was stuck in his head to an extent, but they had made progress and Billy had accepted that it helped and that he liked it, liked having a second chance at childhood, liked having Eddie here with him, loving him in two very different ways, as boyfriend and caregiver, even if embarrassment struck him every now and again at regressing like a child.

Billy woke with one final heavy push, his chest struggling for air as his body panicked, his eyes wild like a rabid dogs, sweat pooling on his skin. “Shh..Shh im here..im here. We need to get you cleaned up baby.” He took Billy into his arms, using his weight as he held him, letting himself be used as a weighted blanket. They would both need a shower after this but Eddie did not rather care, he only cared about calming down Billy, to stop him from flailing and hurting himself.

It took a few moments, Billy’s breathing finally slowing down, fat tears running down his pale cheeks. In the moonlight, Eddie could see the deep ragged scars across Billy’s chest, the way the pale skin raised and dipped in deep unnatural patterns. Even for him, even after all this time, it still made his stomach churn, not out of disgust but out of deep sorrow for Billy.

He lifted Billy as best he could off the bed, the hiccuping man leaning into him. “I’m sorry Daddy, I’m sorry. I can’t do anything r-r-right.” Billy’s knees felt weak, wobbling as Eddie helped him to their small bathroom.

“Shh..” So he was little, it wasn’t surprising and Eddie was happy to take care of him. He filled up the bathtub with warm water and nice lavender bubble bath, the bubbles glowed in the light with a feint purple as they formed, the smell filling the small room. Eddie gently undressed Billy of his wet boxers, “You’re perfect Billy. Perfect to me.” He tossed them to the side and helped Billy into the tub.

The bath steamed with warmth and Billy couldn’t stop himself from sinking into the warm water, letting it wash over his sore body, letting it soothe him. Eddie’s long fingers gently began to scrub into Billy’s blonde locks. “You are the best little guy a Daddy could ask for Billy. There’s no shame in needing help or needing someone or having moments like this.” His voice was soft, reassuring.

Looking at the clock on the wall, it was already one in the morning and as much as he wanted to let Billy play and splash in the tub, he still needed to change the sheets and they needed to be up at six for Billy’s physical therapy. He kissed his forehead, gently washing his body, taking time to look over his scars and make sure things were healing right. Once he was done, he unplugged the drain, making the little one whine and whimper, splashing in frustration.

“I know dear, I know.” Eddie murmured, “But we need sleep.” He kissed Billy’s forehead, smiling as the little one before him cooed and leaned into his touch. “Daddy’ll be right back Billy boy.” He left for just a moment to grab clothes for Billy but in that moment a long drawn out cry sharply resounded through the trailer. Eddie scrambled through the drawers, looking for an outfit as quickly as he could before just grabbing whatever he could find.

He came back in and knelt beside the bathtub, wrapping Billy in his fluffiest towel. “I’m right here, I’m right here.” Eddie reassured, wiping the tears from Billy’s face. “Daddy I dun like when you leave me!” Billy’s chest heaved, his blue eyes a pool of despair. Once more. Eddie pulled him into his warmest hug, he didn’t know if Billy would ever get over the fear of Eddie leaving him, but he hoped deep down Billy knew he was here for him through thick and thin. He pecked his cheek and brushed back Billy’s messy curls.

“I ain’t goin nowhere, not even demobats could keep me away from my baby boy.” Eddie knew now that this was going to be a fight and he dreaded it. He gently pulled out from behind him a diaper, plain and white and crinkly. Billy visibly cringed at it.

“I’m not gonna fight you on it or force you I promise Billy, but it’s an option so you dont wet the bed.” Eddie helped Billy out of the tub and onto the ledge where he could sit. Eddie sat on his haunches, looking up at Billy.

“I-I dunno..mm not a baby.” Eddie wanted to correct him that right now yes he absolutely was, but he remained silent, helping Billy into a long blue t shirt with Thundercats printed onto it.

“Well..babies aren’t the only ones who wear diapers Billy, a lotta people do, even grown ups.” He leaned back, looking at him, waiting for him to make a decision. “I promise, totally optional.” He meant it too, but he hoped Billy would say yes, just so he wouldn’t be so embarrassed about wetting the bed after a nightmare and than perhaps he wouldn’t worry so much about it.

Billy bit at his lip a little before nodding, “Okay but mm not a baby! Mm not!” He pouted, stomping his feet. Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle at that and nodded, “No baby, you aren’t a baby.” He teased lightly.

He got the diaper on with relative ease, figuring out what went where and what stick to what had been a bit difficult but once it was on Billy couldn’t help but start giggling at how crinkly it was. “I look like a baby!” He couldn’t stop laughing at the sounds it made and pouted as Eddie slipped on his sweatpants.

“See? Not so bad. It can be fun.” Eddie ruffled his wet hair, “C’mon little one, off to bed or else the sandman is gonna get ya!” Billy squealed, running with a shriek. Eddie pulled off the sheets and quickly changed them. He could wash in the morning, right now he just wanted Billy to be tucked in and feeling safe.

He helped Billy into bed and pulled him into his arms, kissing him sweetly on the top of his head. He wasn’t going anywhere, not as long as Billy wanted him around, whether it was boyfriend or as caregiver, Eddie would be here. The blonde snuggled into Eddie’s chest, letting himself fall asleep in the person he loved arms. Eddie would be here for him, no matter what,

#Mungrove #Eddie munson #billy hargrove

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

Dinner- Hannibal Lecter x OC

Hannibal Lecter x Fleur Ramsey

Description: Fleur is new to Baltimore, Maryland and gets an invite to a certain aristocrat’s dinner party after he takes a particular liking to her.

Word Count: 1.8k

It had been only four months since Fleur arrived in Baltimore, Maryland, yet she already loved it. She told people that it was just a change of scenery that she craved, but there was a darker, more sinister reason lurking within. The police were starting to notice her pattern. 

Her M.O. was simple. Men that reminded her of any man who wronged her, especially her father,  were usually her prime target, though she sometimes had occupational casualties every so often. Some called it daddy issues, but she chose to simply not address it. Either way, she knew that the cops were starting to suspect signs of a pattern, so she figured her best option was to move across the country. Baltimore, Maryland was the perfect location, and that’s what led her where she was today. 

Fleur was at a local antique flea market looking through paintings for her new dining room. She had been looking at a particularly abstract portrait when she heard a familiar voice, which made her turn around. A smile appeared on her face as she realized who had just walked into the shop. 

“Hey, Will,” she called just loud enough to catch his attention. The man in question as well as the one with him turned around, a small smile also gracing his face as she began walking over to him. 

“Morning Fleur. You’re looking especially happy today,” he noticed. 

“I am,” she responded with a bright smile. “I finally got everything unpacked, my house is finally coming together.” 

“That’s great,” he said enthusiastically before glancing at the man beside him. “Hannibal, this is Fleur Ramsey, she just moved to Baltimore. Fleur, this is Hannibal Lecter, he’s a consultant of the FBI with me and therapist.” Fleur smiled and held out her hand. 

“It’s lovely to meet you, Dr. Lecter,” she said politely. The man took a hold of her hand and shook it. 

“You as well, Mrs. Ramsey,” he responded simply with a grin. 

“Actually, it’s Miss, but good enough,” she giggled. Hannibal’s eyebrows raised just a little bit in surprise. 

“Really?” He questioned, tone matching his expression before he composed himself. “Forgive me, I’m just a bit surprised that no one has even attempted to have your hand.” Fleur couldn’t help but blush at the eloquent compliment. 

“I’m afraid that I can’t give an answer to that Dr. Lecter.” 

“Please, call me Hannibal,” the man responded smoothly. “Any friend of Will’s is a friend of mine.” 

“Oh, well then you can just call me Fleur,” she said before looking between them. “I should probably let you be. Have a good day.” With one last goodbye, she walked back to the painting she was examining, leaving the guys to watch her in her wake.

Fleur assumed that that would probably be the last time that she’d see Hannibal. At least until she got a knock on her door just a few days later. Will was on the other side with an invitation for her. 

“Hannibal wanted me to give this to you,” he explained, holding out a coffee stained envelope to her. Her brows furrowed and she gingerly took it, tearing it open and pulling out a similarly coffee stained card. 

“A dinner party this Friday?” Fleur read aloud curiously. Will’s eyebrows shot cup and he leaned over to read it. 

“Huh, I could have just invited you if I had known what this was,” he muttered. “I was invited too, but not with any sort of card.” 

“I wonder why that is,” Fleur responded, looking at him once more.

“He probably just wanted to show off since you’re new around here,” the man shrugged off with a playful grin, which made her giggle. “I can give you a ride there,” he offered, earning a nod from the girl. 

“Perfect, pick me up at 6:30,” she answered. Their conversation soon ended and Will was on his way back to the FBI headquarters while Fleur began going over what to wear. 

That Friday at just around 6:30, Will picked her up and began heading towards Hannibal’s house. 

“I should probably warn you, Hannibal’s house is a bit...extravagant,” Will mentioned as he drove. “He comes from high society and he’s pretty well off. His house is proof of that. I just don’t want you to get overwhelmed.” Fleur couldn’t help but smile. He was too sweet to even think about killing. 

“I appreciate that. Now I don’t feel as overdressed,” she half joked, earning a chuckle from the man beside her. 

“No, you look great,” he responded as they pulled up to Hannibal’s admittedly large house. Wait, no. House isn’t the correct word for it. Mansion and manor seemed to describe it better. Fleur had to stop herself from gaping at the large building as Will parked the car. 

“Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said extravagant,” she commented as she stepped out of the car. Will walked around to meet her then began leading her inside. 

“You get used to it,” he brushed off, lifting his hand to use the knocker that sat on the front door. It only took a minute before the door opened, revealing Hannibal in what looked to be another designer suit. 

“Will, Fleur, how wonderful to see you again,” he greeted. “May I take your coats?” He inquired as the duo stepped inside. After closing the door, he moved behind Fleur and allowed her coat to fall into his hands. 

“Dinner will be served soon,” he informed them. “Until then, you’re free to mingle with the other guests. Maya should be in the living room, Will.” The man in question nodded then led Fleur to the living room where everyone else was. 

Just ten minutes later, Hannibal announced that dinner was ready. The guests walked into the large dining room and searched for their names on the card that laid on every plate. Fleur wasn’t surprised to see Hannibal sitting at the head of the table, she was surprised to see her name on the plate to his right. Nevertheless, she took a seat and smiled as the man stood. 

“Welcome, esteemed guests,” he started with a grin. “It is my honor to have you here for dinner. Now, before we begin, I must warn you: nothing here is vegan. As long as there are no objections, we will begin.” The guests clapped once his speech was finished and he sat down, beginning to serve food. 

“May I offer you a lovely vegetable potage?” Hannibal inquired, already ladling some into her bowl. She thanked him as she began eating. 

“So, how do you know Will?” He inquired, also eating. 

“Ah, well, I’m afraid that it’s a bit embarrassing,” Fleur began. “It was maybe a week after I moved in. I have a gray Great Pyrenees named Aspen, and she loves to explore. You know how dogs like that are, they go to a new place and want to explore everything. That’s what she did, she somehow managed to get out of the backyard then began trying to look at the neighborhood. Luckily Will was driving through and he found her. He brought her back to me and we’ve been friends since.” She laughed at the memory then shook her head. 

“Sounds like quite an adventure,” Hannibal responded with a chuckle as the main course came around. Fleur glanced at the meat in front of her, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Entrecôte, sauteed in garlic butter with herbs,” Hannibal explained. It didn’t look anything like what he described to Fleur, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she cut into it and took a bite. She knew what this was, and it definitely wasn’t steak. 

“You know, I know quite a bit of French,” the man beside her commented. “Fleur, the name originated in France, it means ‘flower.’ It’s roots also come from the Dutch language, where it means ‘prime and glory.’ Forgive me if this sounds too forward, but I must say that you definitely fit your name, Miss Ramsey.” Fleur couldn’t stop the blush that rose to her cheeks and she giggled shyly. 

“Why Dr. Lecter, you flatter me,” was all she could muster as her gaze fell to the table. 

“I only tell the truth,” he responded smoothly. 

“Are you like this with all of your guests, or am I just special?” She teased lightheartedly. 

“Oh, you’re definitely special, Fleur.” He shot her a charming smile as they continued to eat. The rest of dinner went by without a hitch. Hannibal and Fleur continued to make pleasant conversation, learning a bit more about each other as everyone moved back into the living room. Finally, people began heading home around 10:00. Will was quick to find the girl. 

“I’ll be waiting in the car whenever you’re ready,” he informed her before looking at the man she’d been talking to for the last two hours. “Goodnight Hannibal.” The doctor returned his farewell and Fleur nodded before Will walked out. 

“I guess that’s my cue to get going,” the girl stated, though she looked hesitant to actually leave. 

“Allow me to walk you to the door then,” he responded, resting a hand on her lower back. 

“Well, tonight has been absolutely lovely Hannibal,” she said as they moved to the large door. 

“I’m glad you had a good time,” he answered. “I do hope you’d be willing to come to another dinner. Maybe one with no other guests?” He inquired, looking at her hopefully. FLeur couldn’t hide her surprise at his question, but she was quick to get over it and grinned at him. 

“I would be honored to,” she spoke, pulling a pen out of her purse and writing her number on a piece of paper. “I do appreciate you not sending such a formal invitation this time.” 

“Well, I do have a bit of a flair for the dramatics,” Hannibal shrugged as they shared a laugh. “You are new here, so I figured you deserved a formal invitation to set the mood of what dinner would look like.” Fleur nodded as they reached the door. The man opened the closet beside it and grabbed her coat, helping her into it. 

“I guess this is goodbye for the time being,” he stated as he opened the door. 

“I believe so,” she responded, stepping through the doorway before facing him once more. “I can’t wait for our dinner, though I do hope you don’t use the tibia of a homo sapien again. Their meat is much tougher,” she trailed off, just in case someone was listening. Hannibal’s eyes widened just a bit at her words, but the girl just winked at him. 

“Goodnight, Hannibal,” she said before leaning up and pressing a kiss to his cheek. With one small finger wave, she pulled her coat tighter against her and walked over to Will’s car, leaving the man to watch her. 

“So, did you have a good time?” Will asked as they drove back to her house. Fleur could barely hold back her smirk as she answered. 

“It was an experience to simply die for.”

#nbc hannibal #hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal imagine #hannibal x oc

[ao3feed-larry]

Jouet Garçon

by elementarytheory

Louis is only eighteen, and he dances and strips for money in an elite gentlemen's club. Harry is thirty-six, and he becomes the new owner of the club. And now he really wants to have this boy at any price because Harry knows that everything can be bought. But Louis doesn't seem to reveal his prices.

Words: 13686, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English

Fandoms: One Direction (Band)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M, Multi

Characters: Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson, Liam Payne, Zayn Malik

Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Additional Tags: another universe, dubcon, Kinks, Explicit Language, mention of drugs and alcohol, Dirty Talk, Dirty Dancing, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, First Time, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Age Difference, Frottage, Bottom Louis Tomlinson, Top Harry Styles, zayn is a side character, and Liam too, louis is a stripper, Hurt/Comfort, well i know something the reader doesn't, and please don’t ask me why louis is still alive i do not know, he definitely needs some therapy, So do I, louis being a bottom and a bitch at the same time, it is nOT just a porn, sexy and powerful female side character, louis hasn't had a happy day in years, i still do think he needs therapy, louis is full of doubts, and harry is full of shit but kinda in a sexy way, enemies to lovers but not actually enemies to not actually lovers, fuck the talking stage let’s start with getting naked, harry has the urge to put on a silk lingerie on louis, louis has the urge to punch harry in the face, money is sexy, being spoiled by daddy is sexy too, it's a love triangle and the third person is money, i’m afraid there's not enough space to clarify all the sex related tags here are just the main ones, but i want you to know that every sex scene is a surprise not only for you but also for me, louis is a trauma just walking around, but walking with a cute ass, louis is a twink but not your typical twink and he got some balls you will find out later, harry might look like a dumb alpha mAN at first but i promise he’s not like that give him a chance, mr styles’ relationship pattern is complicated give him time please you will get all the answers, or you will not lol, but you will definitely be on your knees for tHIS WOMAN, okay listen i know this dynamic is toxic and their relationship is a huge red flag, and i just want you to know that i am not romanticizing it i am actually sexualizing it, what can i say mom raised a depressed gay with kinks and issues and this is YOUR problem now sorry, when the literature teacher at school praised my essays neither of us thought i will end up here

via AO3 works tagged 'Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson' https://ift.tt/JeMZR0C

#author #larry stylinson #larry fic #ao3 feed larry #Jouet Garçon #<p>by <a rel= href="/users/elementar

[archer3-13]

mobile suit gundam seed episode 6-10 fast thoughts

been a bit since i did this huh. I covered the first 5 episodes a bit ago so to briefly summarize those ones i thought episodes 1-5 were: i thought that despite all of the shows later problems and some early problems in terms of pacing and repetition they were fairly solid episodes for what they were, being referential to the original 0079 without being overly reliant on replicating it beat for beat. this is also kira at his most tolerable as a character ironically because its also kira at his most overtly scared and dissatisfied creating the early impression of someone who proclaims to pacifism less out of genuine belief in its values and more because of a deep seated fear of killing or dying.

6-10 episode thoughts time, with inherent pattern or play by play:

-flay starts to be more of an actual character with prescience here and i'll admit i actually rather enjoy her usage as a character during this early stage as someone who inadvertently complicates things and whos privilege of wealth and popularity has inoculated her from consequence until now. shes daddies lil rich girl and has an appropriately coloured view, well also having yet hit her soap opera scorned woman phase as it were. which in retrospect is probably going to be when all this nice believablity of character gets tossed out the window.

-im kinda surprised how much i actually like sai? he definitely feels like the most important of kiras friends/secondary character undertaking a sort of parallel development along with kira at the moment. it also cements in my mind that sais probably should have been the friend athrun kills later on instead of tolle. tolles fine mind you but his relation to kira feels a lot less significant compared to sai and it would have naturally jelled with the on going 'flay tries to manipulate people for her gain' subplot to have sai be the one insisting on pilot lessons and eventually getting killed in combat right infront of kira. and if ya really wanna have that dereka miriallia thing you can have the archangel sustain damage that ends up killing tolle because of dereka giving more significance to that plotline as well.

-given what i remember of her later on, lacus feels remarkably like a human being when ya first meet her being portrayed as fairly clueless about the negative feelings of others [such as when she starts signing the one pop song she knows in the middle of a battle until flay yells at her] and somewhat lost in her own world wandering the ship seemingly without a clue on how tense the situation is. you can see the issue with her character as it were however pop its head as early as episode 10 though when she suddenly turns on 'stern authoritative politician voice' to diffuse the immediate situation because it feels too tonally dissonant with her portrayal as flower child newtype character until that point. its not that it couldn't have worked, having a character thats all soft frills new age psychic on the outside only to reveal astute politician and leader on the inside could make an interesting subversion of expectation especially given how lacus also plays off idol culture in japan and idols are typically expected to act a certain way [it can be a scandal for idols to have romantic partners for instance because it pollutes the pure uwu i can be your girlfriend image they're expected to have]. further if we're to consider her the equivalent of the laylah for seed it adds an interesting arguably progressive inversion of that dynamic where lacus more so wears the pants compared to athrun so to speak. where it stumbles I think is that its not really treated as an opportunity to express character its more so treated as a mechanical device to get the plot moving which as a consequence results in lacus not really having a character of her own. we need to have a tense build up and moment of holding her hostage for ethical questions moments so she'll be hippy flower child here, but we need to get rau to fuck off so not only will he arbitrarily obey her orders despite otherwise being an agent of chaos lacus herself will suddenly switch to a authoritative and stern voiced politician leader. flower child well helping kira heal and steal the freedom or getting athruns ass in gear, stoic war leader for when we actually get into combat. it makes her come across as needlessly manipulative for a character that i really dont think is suppose to come across that way. which only gets worse once destiny comes around and you have natural and talented leader lacus fucking off to play hippy flower child as zaft cautiously rebuilds itself only to eventually take control of zaft at destinys end anyways.

-again a pacing issue here where we probably coulda condensed everything that happened into half the time. mood and atmosphere are important to stories dont get me wrong, but brevity is the breath of wit [i know i ramble a lot myself but i stand by this] in writing a lot of the time and we really didnt need to have lacus sing that same fucking song 4 times in a row to get the point and atmosphere across. 2 times would have sufficed fine.

-i like scavenging ice from juinius seven it has an appropriate sombre atmosphere to it, i like the imagery of the space paper flowers for a drive by funeral, and i like the unease with their own morality it inspires in the earth alliance regulars even if its just a question in the moment as it helps lay down the idea that maybe the right thing to do is abandoning their side. like everything related to juinius 7 and the earth alliance as a whole though it just lays down this comically stupidly evil impression of the earth alliance that it becomes impossible to accept any claim of moral relativism or a grey area in terms of this war when the enemy zaft is fighting nukes its political enemies into submission and refuses to recognize its opponents as even being human on the upper levels of command. or in other words, like a lot of gundam fans we're confusing and treating the earth federation as the titans when the earth federation in 0079 and other tomino works was mostly just incompetent as opposed to stupidly evil. like the titans. which i suppose is why zaft has to go all neo zeon on everyones asses near the end if we're to pretend to any amount of grey morality in terms of this war.

#gundam #gundam seed

[the-firebird69]

Watch "Obi - Wan Kenobi Vs Darth Vader HD" on YouTube

Stan is under serious duress I'm under serious dress Dan AKA Dave next door is under serious duress but the full next door who keeps pressuring us to reveal the truth about his death no but he's pushing for each and every piece of it and it can be seen and he's making everybody Irene and angry at him in a solid way from the headmax to the heads of state of other countries who have taken back tons of power due to him to Olympus and my wife Hera and practically every rebel it's around is upset at his behavior his demeanor and his constant nagging and harassment and attempts on them to kill them and harm them for stuff when he lost 90% of the Earth's wealth with the same stupid attitude and method and technique by exposing it to me and others here he refuses to stop. Make a note that he becomes general grievous after he goes into the museum and bja goes into the museum escapes post him out and crams him into the robot and have some mutate into a lizard to keep him around or other actually put them in the robot we're not sure how he gets in there that looks like the robot facility from his kids who are merely bugs at that point and he does so because they're attacking him why he would put this a****** schmuck into the robots I don't know I think it's to have Stan fight him in hopes that Stan would be destroyed as well in order to take the property to try and win the presidency

Zues Hera

It's a very well done job it's very well done because there's schmuck next door is pushing for the answers about his own death because he's an obnoxious rude a****** he's very mean and pushy and nonsensical and has an answer for everything and has juvenile responses for everything in his clan and others but mostly his clean is having a respond this way and a hateful very demeaning way it doesn't take long for these movies to take place and it will be moments when another one starts and he will enter the matrix and by the time he gets out in Star wars will be in full swing and he'll be thrust into it no matter a couple days he'll be gone and most of his people especially after Australia and New Zealand where he will take a severe hammering but boy is that guy an annoyance and evil and mean and he is stupid as a block of wood. Isn't no enough to shut his stupid mouth and to leave us alone in our son and someone paid him in million dollars a second. In these next door trying all the same stupid stuff he tries everyday and everyone hates him and starts killing his people off in Florida then it becomes a global issue and they get rid of them globally it is a distinguishable pattern and nobody seems fit to stop him and no one sees fit to stop him and his own people seem content and dying just to bother one person who's valuable to them I find that to be so absurd that we have to get rid of them much faster and much more efficiently we must take advantage of his absence and we must eliminate him and the key is Australia it's been pointed out that he's going to be there trapped inside the matrix and we're going to look like we're assisting Mac but Tommy f and Trump called it out and so they're going to be fighting but we're going to make it very very hard for them to get him out almost impossible we're going to make it extremely hard for his clone and for the other Neo people to survive it's going to be excruciatingly difficult for you to make it past all straight if you do we're going to be surprised cuz you're such a freaking a****** Trump and as far as your character continue on you died of a heart attack or cancer or whatever we come up with no it's whatever the max want to make something out like a massive massive brain hemorrhage. So Mac Daddy might want help get her done her son doesn't like talking about death all the time but Trump forces it this John remillard a****** Who belongs in prison I went to prison on purpose because he's so smart did he outsmarted us our son the Max and the rest of the world into kill him the guy is going to die he's so Swift that is some genius work it is.

Fresenian troops and are sending in hit squads after Trump and we're going to make sure that he is evaporated here in Florida and all night long this holy crap what an a****** holy crap there's no woman on Earth that can push someone like that and nobody here wants to keep doing that or be caught doing it this man is insane I'm sending in tons of troops in death squads to get rid of his

Thor Freya

A chopper shop the store that is in the factory and the manufacturing plant we're all going to be up and running late tonight in Arizona. And this lunatic pretend sees Randall text Cobb and goes looking for us and we annihilate his people absolutely annihilate them well that's going on Santa Clarita heats up tons are going out there because they can clear out the entire underworld with ease and take it over and be just like Tommy favino and rule over the earth except nobody would be able to go down there because of the monster and Trump is saying in his way of asinine talk that he's the only one that knows and we're not to say about it it's our worm and you announced it and you did so yes against what Mac was saying and if you don't take it over we're going to do it in his name or Tommy f and we appreciate it cuz there's no in hell that you would ever take it over but your people will blame you and bjA and others that will go after you shortly. That's another thing too you out there with these humongous armies and we're feeding the worm right in that desert valley and it will be up soon believe it or not there's so many it's like 500 octillion an hour dead you're so Swift it's such a moron and a loser what we say to you now is you don't understand the old language or the new language all you understand is pain send dissect you over and over in the next few days and soon enough you're going to be general grievous and your head will explode and the character will be gone. And your body is stolen by someone and I wonder who that is probably bja

Thor Freya

We wish you the best Trump no we don't we wish you a swift death because boy are you a pain in the ass we need you to leave you don't ever want to see or hear from you again you're the most aggravating person in history you are treating our son like he's a slave and nobody you have no right to and you're completely mathematically wrong I'm doing so start taking all your stuff now it's on the whole world sees it and we have to compete for it

Olympus

#Youtube

[the-bau-quinjet]

Tolerate It

Summary: Reader struggles with feeling like Hotch is growing distant.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader

Category: fluff/angst

Warnings: the reader has thoughts/feelings of inadequacy

Word Count: 3200+

Notes: This is my entry for @railmereid‘s 2k writing challenge! It was inspired by Taylor Swift’s song tolerate it! I think there’s only one direct quote (I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life). 

You met Aaron on accident. It could be said that a lot of people are met on accident, and that’s just how people meet other people. But with Aaron it felt different. It felt as though every little thing that went wrong that day lead you to the accident that would introduce Aaron Hotchner into your life.

After the shit show that was today, all you want to do is get home and sleep. Maybe also eat dinner, but honestly even food is on the backburner of your mind right now. 

Your drive home from work was the first uneventful thing to happen all day, a necessary moment of peace. You made it into your apartment without any trouble, swiftly moving to change into your fluffiest pajamas and sleep.

The second your head hit your pillow, the fire alarm sounded. The blaring alarm screeched in your ears as you groaned. You forced yourself out of bed to comply with the alarm. Without thinking, you put on your slippers, grabbed your keys, and walked out the front door. 

Once you made it to the street, you turned to see the building really was on fire. It looked contained to one patio, but it was big enough for you to give up your plans of sleep. Instead, you chose to turn on your heel and walk down the street to escape the crowd. 

You didn’t have a plan as to where you were going. You just wanted it to be quiet. Before long, you found yourself in a park. Looking around, you spotted an empty bench. Perfect. You can just sit, enjoy the quiet of the park for however long it takes to fix the fire issue. 

You start trekking toward the bench, now walking with a purpose, when you notice a man chasing his child. The child laughs loudly, joy so clear on his face. The man smiles at him, still running behind him. 

His smile is so infectious, it has its own magnetic force pulling you towards him.  Switching directions from the bench, you are now walking toward the grassy area they are playing in, not looking at your surroundings. You’re so captivated by the happiness on display in front of you, you don’t notice the change in terrain. 

You end up tripping on a rock, falling and tumbling down the slight decline to land in a heap at the feet of the very man whose smile distracted you.

To make matters worse, he was not stationary. No, that would have been to simple. He was, in fact, still chasing the child. So, rather than rolling to a stop and looking up at him, you rolled right into him, causing him to lose his balance and fall over you. 

The two of you were a tangled mess of limbs piled on top of each other. Slowly, carefully the two of you separated, gingerly moving arms and legs to avoid further injury. Helping each other rise from the ground, you were both speechless, equal parts amused and horrified at what just happened. 

“Are you okay?” 

You jumped at the sudden intrusion that brought you back to reality. Spinning around, you realized it was the child. 

It took you an embarrassing amount of time to form a response. “Oh, um... yes I’m okay. Thank you.” Turning back to the man, you finally realized what just happened. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

He chuckled, a small smirk appearing on his face before he replied, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Oh, good.” Your relief was short lived as you realized what you were wearing and how you were dressed. “Please tell me you didn’t see me roll all the way down the hill?” You cringed at the thought. 

“I could say it, but it wouldn’t be very honest.”  Again, a small laugh left his lips. 

“Do you think we could pretend?” You took a deep breath as he quirked his eyebrow. “Ya know, that I didn’t just make a complete fool of myself?”

“But that’s not true! Daddy said when something’s not true it’s a lie and lies are bad.” The boy chimed in again, earning a chuckle from both adults. You bent down to talk to him. 

“You are absolutely right, lying is bad.” You nodded along with him, matching his serious expression. 

He took in your expression, as if judging the sincerity of your statement. Slowly, a smile began to form as if he was glad you agreed with him. “Do you want to play tag with us?”

Looking from him to his father, you took the slight smile and nod of his head as an invitation to accept his offer. “I would love to.”

That series of accidents led you to where you are now, though. A year and a half later you are sitting in your shared home, watching Aaron Hotchner do paperwork for what feels like the millionth night in a row. More realistically, it is the ninth night in a row, but you’re feeling lonely and dramatic. Those nine nights have been spread out over the past month, interrupted by nights he spends away from home.

You yearn to be closer to him. All it would take is for you to cross the room, but it feels as though the distance from the couch you are lounging on to the desk he is working at is too far, like there is some impassible divide preventing you from interrupting him. 

So you just keep watching. It has been 36 minutes since you started your observing. If he sticks to his pattern, he’ll pause in nine minutes to stretch, giving him the opportunity to notice your eyes on him.  You’re hopeful that this time he’ll smile when he sees you. 

So you wait. You watch him read. You notice the way his head dips just a bit lower as he tries to focus tired eyes on the smudged handwriting of a fellow agent. You notice how his hand squeezes the pen tighter than before, turning the once smooth glide of ink across the page into rushed, jagged strokes of letters. You notice the barely there wince as he flips the page, the result of the familiar feeling of a paper cut he’s grown all too used to. You notice everything he does. Which is why you’re not surprised when he speaks. 

“You’re staring.” 

Glancing at your phone, you note the time. Nine minutes later. Right on schedule. The smile you hoped for is noticeably missing, replaced by a curious tilt of his head.

“I’m basking in your presence.” 

If he wanted to, he could figure out how lonely and dramatic you are feeling. But with the majority of his energy still directed towards the many reports on his desk, he only notices the surface level. Tired, slightly miffed, but enjoying that he is home.

There was once a time when he would have noticed it all though. A time when he noticed everything about you, sometimes before you had even noticed it about yourself. You’ve learned how to hide it though, to save him the energy that would be expended to profile you. 

“You should consider a new career path. Comedy could really be for you.”

His deadpan joke doesn’t surprise you, but him rising from his desk chair does. For a minute, you expect him to come to you. To attempt to cross the impassible divide you’ve built in your head. Instead, he turns into the kitchen. He pauses at the island, drinking from the glass he never brings to his desk to prevent anything from ruining his files. 

When he returns to his desk, squandering any lingering hope that he may have been done for the night, you rise. Unwilling to do what you had hoped of him, you turn away from his desk and move toward the stairs. Just before you lose sight of him, you turn back. 

“Don’t forget to sleep tonight.” 

Your tone is soft, emphasizing your concern to cover up the lingering loneliness. 

“I’ll be up soon.”

You respond with a slight nod of your head, another thing unnoticed by Aaron as his eyes never left the files. 

You flitter through the second level as you complete your routine to prepare yourself to sleep for the night. 

You can’t help but notice the cold sheets on the empty side of the bed as you wait for Aaron, knowing you’ll likely be asleep before he comes to bed. 

--

You’re surprised to wake up the next morning with Aaron still in bed next to you. You watch his chest rise and fall with the steady in and out of his breath. His face is fully relaxed, a sight you so rarely get to see. 

You’re not sure how long you watch him sleep, but you notice when his rhythmic breathing changes pattern indicating he’s waking up. His eyes flutter open slowly, allowing you to see the exact moment he notices you. 

“You’re staring again.” 

The smile you are still hoping for is again absent from his face, too used to the frown that has taken over his features near permanently for the past month.  

“I’m still basking in your presence.”

You notice the beginnings of a grin forming on his face. The twinkle in his eyes. The slight twitch of his lips. It’s nearly there when the moment is interrupted by the distinct, shrill ringtone indicating a call from the bureau. 

You watch as he sits up to answer the phone with his typical “Hotchner”. If you hadn’t spent the last year noticing everything you could about the man, you would doubt that he had been asleep less than three minutes ago. 

His brows furrow, his body leaning forward to sit a little straighter as he takes in the information from whoever is on the other end of the phone. His eyes trace the pattern of your comforter, up until he throws the blanket off of himself to rise to his feet. He’s changing into his suit before hanging up. Without even hearing his responses, you can tell where this is headed. 

After he hangs up, you speak before he has the chance. 

“I take it you won’t be here for dinner with my parents tonight? I’ll try to reschedule it.” 

The question should express your loneliness, but you do well to hide the full truth. It’s easy to sound understanding because you are. You do understand, which is why you never plan to tell him how you feel. 

The grim expression is enough for you to know you’re right, you don’t need the verbal confirmation. You nod your head, a smile on your face that doesn’t meet your eyes as he walks out of your bedroom. 

--

While Aaron was away, you did everything you could to keep yourself busy outside of your typical 9 to 5 workday. Aside from the typical reading, cleaning, and TV watching you normally do you; you successfully navigated another conversation with your parents about why it was necessary to reschedule dinner a second time and played action figures with Jack, always in agreement about how his daddy is a hero. 

Every night you found yourself staring at the door, hoping it would swing open and reveal him on the other side. Every night you grew less hopeful and more discouraged than the one previous. 

--

Five days after he left, Aaron returned to your shared home. Despite the late hour, you waited for him on the couch. Knowing he probably hadn’t eaten dinner, you kept some food warm for him. 

When the door swung open, you were in front of it in seconds. You pulled him into a hug, one he was too exhausted to reciprocate, and kissed his cheek. 

Moving farther into the house, he dropped his files on his desk swiftly turning to head upstairs. 

“I kept dinner warm for you.”

Your words stalled him at the bottom of the stairs. He turned around slowly, barely looking at you.

“I actually ate with the team tonight.”

His words hit you like a bus, but you turned to hide it. He didn’t eat with the team often, so you never blamed him when he stayed with them a bit longer than usual. 

“Oh, okay. I’ll just put it in a container for tomorrow then. Did you want to talk about the case?”

You’ve always been willing to help him carry the weight of his job, but you’ve been trying harder to get him to open up this past month. Typically he brushes you off, tells you he’s fine, and then buries himself in paperwork. 

He surprised you this time. Maybe he could tell you were upset, or maybe he was just too far in his head. Either way, rather than continuing on his path up the stairs, he moved to sit in the kitchen while you put the food away. 

You listened as he ranted about the local officers withholding information about the case. You listened as he complained about the poor weather. You listened to every word, slowly washing and drying the dishes until they were sparkling. You listened until you were practically asleep, leaning against the sink. You didn’t dare to interrupt in fear he would shut down again. Or maybe it was you shutting down, but that’s a thought for another time. 

When he finished talking, he rose from his chair, too worked up to sleep now, he sat down at his desk. 

You watched, noticing everything you could. 

--

Your weeks repeated much the same for the next few months. Your loneliness morphed into something new with each night you spent watching Aaron work. 

It’s one such night when everything changes. You were trying to watch him work, but your thoughts drifted away from his actions as you lost yourself in your memories. 

The first case Aaron went on after you moved in with him and Jack was the hardest for you. After a straight week of seeing him so often around the house, it felt like a slap in the face to come home and not have him there. Somehow you made it through, and you were clingier than usual when he came home. 

He noticed how it affected you. That was before you started hiding your feelings from him. He told you he thought about you in every spare moment. That he wanted to solve the case even more than usual just so he could come home to see you even just a few minutes sooner.

He calmed all of your fears, protecting you from your own intrusive thoughts about holding him back when he was working. 

You couldn’t help but think about every time he recognized how you were feeling and did what he could to help. How he would reassure you that he wanted to be with you, bringing you little key chains or stuffed animals from the cities he travelled to. How he would smile when he saw you. Where was that man now? 

You thought back to the first day you met Aaron. It was like he saved you from a terrible day, bringing a smile to your face after hours upon hours of crap. 

“Do you think we could pretend?” You laugh lightly to yourself at the memory of Jack telling you not to lie.  Not realizing you spoke the words out loud, you’re surprised to hear Aaron from across the room.

“Pretend what?” The confusion is clear in his voice and the furrow of his brows. 

“Hmm? Oh, um. I was just thinking about the first day we met.” Tears begin to brim your eyes as you think about how much everything has seemed to change. “And how you became my whole world and now I feel like I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life.” The tears are now freely falling down your face. 

Aaron looks even more confused now. “What?” He’s frozen at his desk, pen in hand, reports on the surface in front of him. 

“I’m so sorry. I just feel like I’m taking up so much of your time and you have such important things to do! God, I’m so selfish. I’ve tried so hard to hide it though, so you can focus on people who actually need your help.” The panic in your voice grows as you speak, along with the tears falling from your eyes. 

“Y/N...” Suddenly, Aaron is on his feet, easily crossing the imaginary divide you’ve built in between the couch and his desk. He slows down, moving gently as he pulls you into him on the couch, moving your legs across his lap so he could pull you into his chest. “Sweetheart, you could never take up too much of my time.” He speaks slowly, so as not to start another round of sobbing. 

“What?” Your confusion is clearly communicated with the one word question, but you’re on a roll with your feelings so why stop now. “Are you saying it’s all in my head? Bu-, but, but you’ve been so busy every time you’ve been home! I’ve barely seen you, and I’ve tried so hard to not let it bother me because I know how important what you do is! I do, I understand it all so much. I could never be mad at you for working so hard. I just feel like you’re tolerating me being here when you have so many more important things to do.” 

Now breathless, your rant ends with more tears forming in your eyes. Aaron is quick to wipe them away as they fall. “You’re right. I have been busy.” His voice is full of concern and regret as he thinks about the past few months. “But please don’t ever doubt for a second that you are the most important thing in the world to me.” He pauses for a second before continuing. “Well, other than Jack.” This earns him a slight chuckle from you before you reply. 

“Jack is the most important to me too.” Your clear your throat, hesitant to voice your next question. “You’re not mad at me?”

Aaron looks so taken aback, you would laugh if you weren’t so nervous. “I could never be mad at you. Especially not for having completely valid feelings. I’m so sorry I haven’t been as present as I should’ve been. I love you so much, Y/N. More than I could ever put into words, and I will be doing a better job of showing you just how much you mean to me from now on.” There’s a slight edge to his voice, as though he’s annoyed with himself for you feeling this way. “Please, don’t ever hide your feelings from me. I never want to lose you.” His own voice is cracking, slight tears in his eyes at the idea of you not being in his life. 

“I promise.” You lean up to kiss him, trying to convey just how much you’ve missed him. 

“Let’s go to bed.” He lifts you up from the couch, carrying you toward the stairs. 

You shriek, clinging to him even more. “It’s only 9:15!” You laugh at his antics. “What about your reports?”

“I have more important things to do right now.” He smirks at you, quickly moving into the bedroom to show you just how much he cares about you. 

permanent tag list:

@mac99martin @goldeng1rl8 @measure-in-pain

#renswritingchallenge #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner fluff #Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader

[markberries]

d e s i r e┊draco malfoy

anon requested: hey!! unsure if u do requests for stories BUT i saw a tiktok and rlly want it to be a full story (or one shot). so: draco is late to class, and is there for volunteered for an experiment, he is told to stand infront of a mirror (he doenst know it but it’s the erised mirror) and he asks Y/N to move out of the way but ur not there, he only sees u bc he desires u, everyone laughs then there’s a party and u okay 7 min in heaven, and draco and Y/N get picked then SMUT

info: you and draco liked to bicker; turns out draco wanted a bit more from you. it took him a look into the mirror of erised to realize it.

warnings: smut, dirty talk, cursing, fingering, oral (giving)

genre: SMUT, hufflepuff!reader, fem reader

word count: 2400+

a/n: hihi, i hope this is something close to what you wanted. sorry for the wait!! the request confused me at first but i think i understood it. this is also unedited bc i’m lazy

“draco malfoy, late again?” the professor sighed, not looking at malfoy who was quietly taking his seat. instead, the professor just shook his head in disappointment.

“yeah yeah, won’t happen again,” draco snickered, playfully shoving goyle and crabbe. all three of them were quietly giggling in amusement, as if the entire school was a joke to them.

the professor raised an eyebrow at draco, crossing his arms. unimpressed, he stared draco down. “you have been saying that for the past three classes you were late to as well, mr. malfoy.”

you held back your laughter as draco got scolded, only because you knew that draco was an arse so watching him get in trouble up close was definitely a treat for you.

draco was quick to turn to you, who was sitting at the table to his right. “got something to say, mudblood?” he snapped at you, and you glared at him.

“got some daddy issues to fix, malfoy?” you shot back, venom lacing your voice. 

“alright you two,” the professor said, walking to the middle of the room, eyes switching from malfoy to you. “that’s quite enough for today. since mr. malfoy had the audacity to come in late once again, he will be our beloved volunteer for our experiment today.”

draco raises his hand, “i will not be agreeing to that, professor. it’s just not fair.”

“and it’s not fair that you’re wasting my time, so i advise you to come up here now, because you don’t have a choice,” the professor gestured for malfoy to come to him, you hear a grumble from draco, followed by his chair being pushed back.

draco walked up to a large object covered by a black drape in the middle of the room, standing right in front of it. draco made sure to give you a nasty look before getting to the front.

the professor moved out of the way to remove the drape, but not before saying, “okay, mr. malfoy. i want you to describe to me what you see when i remove this cloth.”

“easy enough,” draco smirks, crossing his arms over his chest, arrogance oozing off of him. when the professor withdraws the drape, draco looks closesly. it’s a mirror with a golden lining, decorated with intricate designs and beautiful patterns. it’s much larger than draco, and light rays bounce off it throughout the room.

“if you don’t move out of the way y/l/n,” draco sneers, making you squint your eyes in confusion, “i swear i’ll-”

“that’s enough mr. malfoy, you can sit down now.”

draco turned around, only to see you sitting down in your chair, who was just as confused as him. while he walked back to his seat, the professor eyed him, then started pacing slowly around the room while talking.

“now,” he began, “this here, is the mirror of erised.” you hear small giggles coming from the class room, followed by malfoy’s face turning a slight tint of pink. 

“shove off!” malfoy yells, muttering to himself in annoyance. you of course, shared the same amount of embarrassment. you knew exactly what the mirror of erised was, and so did most people in this room. it made you visualize what you truly desired, so the fact that draco malfoy had seen you in the reflection, was quite a surprise.

“every student will have a chance to take a look, so don’t worry too much. please form a single file line, and we will begin.”

—

“you’re kidding,” cedric snickers, covering his mouth with his hand. cedric was an awful good friend of yours, being the first person to offer you a seat when you had gotten sorted into hufflepuff. quite ironic, really. you never imagined yourself to be put into such a happy little house.

“honestly? i wish i was. draco can be such a little prick,” you remarked, sipping at your butterbeer. students gathered in the three broom sticks, the familiar scent of sweat emanating from the hufflepuff and slytherin quidditch team. the slytherin house had just received a bitter defeat, causing them to throw glares at the opposing team.

“so what are you gonna do about it then? talk to him?” cedric questioned you, and you shrugged shoulders. you were at a loss for what to do about malfoy. you were unsure if he was even worth talking to, after all the constant negative comments that he just loved to yell at you.

“do i wanna talk to him?” you asked, crossing your legs while you sat in your chair. cedric raised a brow, “am i supposed to answer that question?”

“no,” you sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. being friends with cedric had it’s pros and it’s cons, but he gave a good amount of advice and he was always reliable. you hear a call for cedric’s name coming from the crowd of boys and girls, his eyes shoot to the group.

“what is it?” he says back, standing up from his chair.

“come on then, we’re playing 7 minutes in heaven!”

such a childish game, you thought to yourself. it surprised you that people were still interested in playing. cedric looked to you, then back at the group, “i won’t go if you won’t go.”

“what a flirt,” you say with a hint of a sarcastic tone. you playfully kick his leg, making him yelp, “i’m just trying to be nice!”

“well i’m surely not going,” you responded, taking a sip from your drink again. cedric’s grey eyes bored into your own, he smelt of chocolate mixed with his clean shampoo.

“don’t be such a wussy, mudblood,” you hear a familiar voice snarl. you snap your head to see draco, standing in the middle of the crowd, laughing with his group of friends. you felt a surge of anger, and cedric took note of it. he quickly grabbed your hand, pulling you up from your chair.

“y/n and i will be participating!” cedric announces , dragging you to the group of people gathered around a table.

“cedric! what in god’s name are you doing?” you exclaim, desperately trying to escape from his strong grip. “ow ow ow, could you at least be a little gentler?”

“this is your chance, if you get paired up with someone, you’ll see malfoy’s reaction,” he whispers closely into your ear. when the two of you stop in front of the group, you swear you can practically hear how badly the other girls wanted cedric to be their partner.

“what if i don’t want to see his reaction?” you complained back, and cedric patted your head. “then too bad.”

“alright everyone, the rules are simple; a person is selected to spin the bottle. whoever the bottle lands on, those two will go into the backrooms together. would anyone like to go first?”

“y/n does,” cedric yells, slightly pushing you forward. you scowl at him, in return he sends you a shit-eating grin. you wanted nothing more than to wipe that stupid smile off his face, but you stayed civil for the sake of the others gathered around you.

“alright y/n, go on,” blaise says, placing the bottle on the table. you gave cedric the “i’m going to kill you when this is over” look as you sighed, placing your hand on the bottle. you span it, watching as the boys began to shift awkwardly.

you nearly gag when the bottle lands on the one person you did not want to share a small, closed room with. people coo, laughing and making immature comments. draco malfoy shoves his friend, threatening him.

“i’m not entering a closet with that mudblood,” he scoffs, pointing at you disrespectfully. you stop yourself from punching malfoy, instead you say, “look who’s scared now.”

“what did you just say?” draco hissed, taking a step closer to you. “why would i be scared.”

you dust off his robe in a mocking way, smiling at him. “you tell me, malfoy.”

whispers filled the room, as if everyone was waiting for draco to explode. he took a deep breath, grabbing your arm aggressively. people eyed the both of you as he brought you to the backrooms, knowing hell would break loose with you two alone. 

seven minutes, alone with draco. what could go wrong?

when you two stepped into the small space, you went to the farthest point of the room. it was littered with cleaning supplies and smelt a little bit like bleach. draco stared at you, and you looked back. “what do you want?”

“you think i wanted to do this?” draco spat at you, leaning back on the wall. 

“and how do you think i feel?” you said back, throwing a scrunched up paper towel at him. “as if i wanted to be in a room with you. you’re annoying, stuck up, and a spoiled brat.”

“wow, who would think that a bitch would get sorted into hufflepuff,” he says sarcastically.

“got a lot to say for someone who saw me in the mirror of erised,” you retort, fanning your face. it was getting quite warm in this tight space.

“it was probably a mistake, who would desire you anyway,” he retaliates getting closer to you. you take a step closer to him as well, your faces nearly touching.

“you’d be surprised,” you argue. you two were so close that you could make out the details of his face. you could see something flash in his eyes, it didn’t look like anger, but you chose to believe that it was.

“do you ever stop talking? just shut up already. i’ve had enough of hearing your voice.”

you scoff, looking down at your feet, then looking back up into draco’s eyes. in all honesty, you didn’t know what to expect after saying this. you felt your hands shaking a little bit, ignoring the adrenaline pumping through you

“make me.”

in that moment, you swear you heard your own heart beating. did you want this? did draco understand what you were hinting at? your questions were soon answered when draco pushes you up against the wall, taking your hands and pinning them above your head.

“i’ll make you, alright,” he smirks, placing kisses along your jawline. he presses his knee between your legs. he kisses your neck, sucking on the skin. you let out a breathy whine, trying to bring your arms down to wrap around draco’s neck, but he keeps your hands in place.

“you want this, don’t you?” he whispers, leaving more marks on your neck.

“mhm, yes draco,” you say back, feeling yourself growing wetter.

“good girl.”

he smashes his own lips against yours, his actions filled with need and passion. he slightly bites on your bottom lip, looking into your eyes. he breaks the kiss, letting go off your hands. he undoes his belt, pulling his pants down slightly, but not all the way.

“we haven’t got much time,” he says, dragging his thumb along your cheek. he touches your bottom lip, and you open your mouth in response, sucking on his thumb.

“fuck,” he groans, watching you with lust filled eyes. “you’re so hot.” he removes his thumb from your mouth, and you lower yourself to his boxers, tugging down the fabric. his member springs free, and he lets out a hiss from the sudden contact of air.

you smirk, licking a stripe. draco moans, grabbing onto the shelf above him. you begin to take him in, swirling your tongue around him. his size was about average, but on the thicker side. he grunts as you hollow your cheeks.

“oh fuck, just like that,” he groans. the tip of his dick touches the back of your throat, making you gag. he moans, but louder this time as he grabs your hair. your eyes start forming tears, but you hold them back.

you hollow out your cheeks, slowly moving back and forth.

“god, y/n, you’re so pretty even when you’re sucking my dick,” he says, lost in the moment as you continue to move faster, using your hands on whatever didn’t fit in your mouth. you feel your lips getting swollen as you continue to move faster.

“look at you,” he groans, his face full of pleasure as he looks down at you. “such a fucking good girl.”

you feel his member twitch in your mouth, and you knew he was close to finishing. you took this as a chance to move faster, bobbing your head as fast as you could. 

he groans, panting your name as he used your hair to guide how to move.

“i’m gonna come,” he says breathily, “fuck!”

he comes in your mouth, but you don’t mind. it’s not the worst that could happen, after all. you stand up, wiping your mouth as draco is leaning against the wall. he doesn’t rest for long though, as he grabs your waist, pulling you close to him. 

“your turn,” he whispers, pushing your skirt up and slipping a hand into your exposed panties. he feels around your wetness, collecting it and bringing it out.

“mm, did i do this?” he asks, and you whimper a “yes”.

he slips his hand back in, finding your bundle of nerves and rubbing them slowly. you gasp, gripping at his jacket and biting on his shoulder. he chuckles, dragging a finger down to insert into you. he pushes in slowly, and you bite down harder, not wanting to make too much noise.

“no no, i don’t want you to be quiet, i want to see your face,” draco says, using his free hand to grab your chin and make you look at him. “that’s right, let me see how you feel.”

he pushes in and out of your heat at a steady pace, the room smelt of sex and his cologne. you were a moaning mess as draco continued his motions, bringing in another finger.

“does that feel good?” draco asks, and you nod in response. “i want your words, baby.”

“y-yes draco, please don’t stop,” you say quietly, screwing your eyes shut.

“oh baby, i wasn’t planning on it,” he replies, entering a third finger and thrusting faster. at this point, you’re pretty much a moaning mess. the feeling of his long slender fingers was so much to handle, you felt yourself building up to your climax.

“that’s right baby, fuck, you’re clenching around my fingers,” he smirks, knowing that you were going to come. “i want you to say my name. tell people who’s making you feel this good.”

“it’s you, draco, oh my god!” you yelp, the fabric of his robe was bunching up in your hands. suddenly, your orgasm washes over you, your stomach moving in twists and turns. you felt so relieved, draco removed his hand, his fingers covered in your juices. all that could be heard was the sound of you and draco’s heavy breathing.

a knock comes from outside the room, “guys? it’s been over seven minutes.”

#draco #draco malfoy #draco smut #draco malfoy smut #harry potter #cedric diggory #smut #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine

[mrsmaybank]

My Little Sun - Reid x Reader

“Ridiculously perfect.” I held her tighter as she looked up at me and our eyes locked, “I’ve fallen ridiculously in love with you.” “So my evil plan worked then?” She chirped.

CONTENT WARNINGS: AGE GAP, VIOLENCE, KIDNAPPING, PREGNANCY, STALKING, LANGUAGE probably the misuse of a Russian word  IF THERES MORE LMK 

A/N: Okay, let me be honest rq this idea lowk scared me but the words really just fell out of my brain really easily so, yk fuck it whatever.  ANYWAY, if you like, please let me know! 

pt 2, pt 3 “I love you Spencer.” The words immediately melted me. 

“I know so many things.” She gave me an unapproving look. 

“I don’t mean to sound cocky, but I do! Now for once in your life, listen to me.” She nodded her head in concession.

“I’ve just read more, I’ve written more, I’ve discovered and studied more than the average person. I could tell you a little bit about anything with one hundred percent certainty. I could--and want--to tell you the names of all the stars, I could recite verbatim the entirety of Prometheus Bound by Aeschylus or Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov, which you know, speaking of I will ‘cause I still can’t believe you haven’t read it,” Her smile flattened into a straight line, and I laughed. “Orrr, I could also tell you something simple, like why we get the hiccups.” I shook my head. 

“Regardless, I know so many things and I’m rarely taken by surprise because of it. Everything in life is a pattern of change, and as a human, we will always adjust and adapt to whatever situation we are in. For better or worse, we don’t feel the same thing for very long. This is why an addict takes a couple more every time, a sadist hits his second victim harder than the first, they’re searching for the high of the first time, and it will never come.”

She nodded in understanding, 

 “I know this is true, it’s factual, and yet every time I look at you it feels like the first. You’ve broken the laws of human psychology.” 

“First time you saw me was at a gas station Spencer.” 

“No. The first time I looked at you after I knew I loved you.” 

“Where were we?” 

“My car. You were dancing. You looked ridiculous.” 

“Ridiculously sexy? You mean?” She smiled. 

“Ridiculously perfect.” I held her tighter as she looked up at me and our eyes locked, “I’ve fallen ridiculously in love with you.” 

“So my evil plan worked then?” She chirped.

“It did indeed. You’ve become my solnyshko moyo.”

“Tell me that’s Russian dirty talk.” She said with a grin. 

“It’s better. It’s a term of endearment you’ve become the epitome of.” 

“And what’s that Dr. Reid?” she giggled. 

“My little sun. You’ve become my little sun. Following me around and bringing light and warmth.” She snuggled herself impossibly closer into my chest, wrapping one of her legs over mine. 

“Except for your feet!” I shrieked at her freezing toes meeting mine. 

“They’re not that cold you big baby!” she shouted. 

I laughed and kissed her sweetly, “I am not the baby here.” I said.  

“Please,” she started until I interrupted her with a kiss, “If you’re not the baby,” I kissed her again, “That implies I’M the baby,” Kiss, “And I’m not a” Kiss. 

“Shush baby.” I told her, but like always, she didn’t listen, instead sitting up to straddle me. My appreciation for her beauty was like how a prisoner appreciates freedom, and yet it was miniscule into what I found in her character. It blew my mind that a girl so perfect existed. 

“Rarely do great virtue and beauty dwell together. Francesco Petrarch.” I started, my hands making their way onto her hips, “That makes you a rarity.” 

“You’re spoiling me with nice words today Spencer.” “You’ve spoiled me. My frontal lobe is spoiled milk.” She laughed, wondering how I was going to manage to make this one romantic. 

“That’s the part of the brain responsible for sensibility and logical thinking, and you, little girl, have positively ruined it. You make me stupid.”

“I ruined the genius Dr. Reid with the 187 IQ? Makes sense. I’m like, way smarter.” 

“You are. So, so much smarter.” 

“I want that in writing.” she poked my chest. 

I pulled her down and kissed her forehead to whisper in her ear. “Not a chance.”

She pushed herself away and rolled her eyes at me like a bratty child does her nanny, and I continued, “ You’re smarter, but I’m more educated. I have more doctorates than you have years in university.” 

“Whatever…”

I brushed the hair away from her perfect face, “You tired baby?” 

She sighed and laid down, splaying herself on my chest, laying on me like I was the duvet. “Very.” 

I held her impossibly close, breathing in her scent and counting every time her heart thumped, her bpm said she was relaxed. Oh god, I wanted her like this forever. Relaxed in my arms, where nothing could touch us but each other. 

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

“Must you work?” I sent the message to Spencer as I rolled over to his side of the bed in anticipation. I breathed in heavy, liking the way the pillow smelled like his laundry.

“Unfortunately.”  he responded. “Think you’ll be home this weekend?” 

“It’s not looking like it, little one. I’m sorry.” 

I didn’t reply. I was too sad to reply. I knew it’d make him feel guilty, which I didn’t want to do, cause like, his job and saving people and shit is important. But, it still wasn’t fair! At all. There was something very important I had to tell him. 

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

Total darkness, and then way too much light. My head hurt and I couldn’t move. I was handcuffed to a wooden chair. There were chains around my torso and ankles. The room was a medical sort of bright. It smelled like bleach and rotting fruit. The walls were dilapidated, seeming to be made of tiles that were once white, but have turned yellow. 

What the FUCK? 

“Hello!” I shouted. My voice was so coarse it hurt. Shit. My head pulsed so badly it practically hurt to think, but I still racked my brain. 

Where am I? 

How’d I get here? 

Why am I here? 

I woke up again. Fuck, why can’t I think? Why can’t I do anything? 

“Hey, y/n.” A woman’s voice. A very stoic, cold, sounding female voice.

I’m not alone. Thank god, oh my god, I’m not alone. 

With the little strength I had, I lifted my head to see her. She wasn’t what I thought. She was alright, she wasn’t tied. She did this to me? 

She took a sip from her silver flask, “Do you know who I am?” 

I shook my head. “No.” 

“Typical.” She stood up and grabbed me by the hair, “You fucking disgust me.” Like, she said, she threw my hair away like it disgusted her. 

She sat back down on the bench in front of the chair I was chained to, “My name is Brook Austen. I was a professor at Georgetown last year. Taught a couple seminars at your school, that little university you go to, the students there were nothing like mine. Not nearly as intelligent, but as expected, Georgetown is much more prestigious, obviously.”

I was confused, and she knew, but did not care. 

“You’re not the brightest, y/n. Only slightly above average high school grades, strikingly mediocre academic performance now.”

Where the hell is she going with this? 

“And you know it doesn’t surprise me, per say, because every man on this goddamn planet is a piece of fucking shit! But I thought that, maybe, just maybe, Spencer was different.” 

She grimaced, “I thought he’d want more than just a pretty face! ‘Cause you might be prettier y/n, but I’m smarter.” Her words were laced with utter hatred. 

Her demeanor changed, and it almost started to seem like she was talking to herself. “I'm older. I’m more successful. I’m fucking better.” 

She approached me again, grabbing my face so I was looking her in those scarily light green eyes, and she wrapped her hands around my throat.  “I’m fucking better then you! Better, better, better!” Every time she said better she shook my neck and gripped tighter so I couldn’t breathe. 

“Stop! Please! Please stop!” I shouted, “I’m-I’m pregnant!” 

She began to break down, “You’re pregnant?” A maniacal chuckle left her throat, “You’re pregnant?”  

“Is it Spencer’s?” she asked. 

I nodded. 

“Wow.” She laughed once more, “Fucking wow.” 

“How could Spencer choose this!? You’re nothing like him. You are a pathetic fucking college student. A fucking daddy issue ridden slut! I’m a celebrated academic, just like him!” Tears began to slip from her eyes, “How could he not choose me?”

This woman is NOT well in the head. 

“You--you like Spencer?” I asked. 

“You don’t get to ask the fuckin’ questions here.” She pulled a knife out of her pocket and held it to the tip of my chin, “I do. So you’re gonna answer them.” Or, she started manically laughing, “I’ll kill you.” She swallowed, “And your baby.” 

I screamed at those words, “No,” I sobbed, “NO!” 

I turned my head away so I didn’t have to look at the woman in front of me, there was a timed red dot blinking. A camera. 

“Is that-- is that a camera?” 

She nodded, “I want Spencer to see you and his child die.” 

“He….No! No, please, No!” I choked on a sob and she smiled. 

“He doesn’t know.” She paced, “He doesn’t even fucking know!” 

She waltzed over to the camera and brought it closer to us, “Hey Spencer.” She began waving, “Hey Penelope. Aaron. Derek. Jennifer. Emily.” 

Her demeanor changed once more, into that of a cheerleader of all things, “So, quick recap.” Brook pursed her lips, “Spencer your twenty three year old fucktoy is pregnant. Congrats!” 

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

Y/N was two things I didn’t know she was this morning: In serious danger, and the mother of my expected child. I felt frozen in trepidation. 

We all watched in horror as Brook greeted us. All by first name. She knew exactly what she was doing and it freaked me out even more. 

“Reid, you need to step out.” Hotch grabbed my shoulder, “Now.” 

I was sick with fear and ill with rage. I sat down because I could feel my knees go weak. Hotch started again, “We know who she is. We will find her. Y/N will be alright.” He paused, “So will the baby.” 

I replayed the events of the live footage in my head, her screams of pain and terror, her trembles and confusion. I’d failed her. I’d failed her and now I knew I’d also failed our child. 

JJ sat down next to me, “Spencer, when did you meet Brook?” 

“I uh,” I wiped my face, “A year and four months ago. I did uh, I taught uh, I taught a string of seminars at Georgetown. It was biweekly. Her office was next to mine. We spoke for the first time when she offered me a coffee.” 

“What did you say?” 

“What do you think I said?” 

“Yes.” 

“Yeah, I said yeah, I fucking like coffee.” I felt instantaneously guilty for cursing, and especially at JJ but I was too frazzled for it to last long enough to apologize. 

“I know Spence, I’m sorry. Just keep going.” 

“Then, the next week, we got lunch together.” 

“Was it, you know, friendly?” 

“What are you implying Jennifer?” I snapped. 

“No Spence, we just need to know. You know that.” 

“It was-- it was just lunch. A very normal colleague to colleague lunch. We talked about the school’s history. And uh, where we grew up. It was small talk.” 

“Ok, was this the last time you spoke to her?” 

“No. There was one more time. Y/N was there.” 

“Tell me about it Spence.” She grabbed my hand, 

I breathed out, “It was the next week I taught after lunch. About two hours before my class. I was lesson planning, and Y/N was doing homework on my desk. She came in. She asked if I wanted to go get lunch. She saw y/n and--Fuck.” 

“What Spence? What?” 

“She asked me who she was, but it was like, she didn’t want y/n to know she was asking. She thought she was…”

“She thought she was what?” 

“A student.” 

“And what did you tell her?”  

“The truth. That she was my girlfriend.” 

“Did you see her anywhere else after that?”

“No. She never came by my office again. When I would see her by chance, she would scurry away. It was strange.” 

“Think really hard Spence. Did you ever see her again after you stopped teaching at Georgetown.”

I racked my brain, “Yeah. I did. It was two months ago. Three days after I proposed to y/n. She was getting a coffee at this coffee shop by y/n’s school.. I was bringing her some lunch” 

“Spencer she's been stalking you. Your proposal was the stressor.” 

“But--I’m a profiler. I would’ve noticed.” I stood up with a realization.            “What Spence?” JJ asked, standing up as well to look at me. 

“She’s been stalking her, not me. She knew I was a part of the BAU, she knew I would’ve noticed.” 

“I’ll tell the team.” 

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A/N2:  If this doesn’t totally flop, I’ll write PT 2, that elaborates on the reader’s and Spencer’s relationship. I think through flashbacks from both Y/N and Spencer would be a cool way to explore their relationship and of course the whole reader being kidnapped thing plot could develop. Again, if you enjoyed this pls let me know!!

#spencer reid fanfiction #Spencerreid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer x y/n #spencer reid #drspencerreid #reid x #Criminal Minds Reid #reid criminal minds #spencer x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #mgg #mgg x reader #reid x you #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader sm #spencer reid x reader angst #reid x reader fluff #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds angst

[archonoftears]

info: modern au! reader receives a package that helps her tease her boyfriend while he’s at work. 

warnings: 18+ smut, slight breeding kink (mentioned), lingerie, phone sex (kinda), pretty vanilla, no penetration, just description, a tiny bit of dom/sub (implied through dialogue)

word count: 1,626

authors note: umm head empty, thoughts only filled with laying in zhonglis bed and teasing him over the phone. i really can’t remove myself from modern au! with ceo daddy zhong. so here we are again. not gonna lie though, i found myself looking at dragon dildos yesterday and now i just wanna write dragon zhongli and sacrificial maiden. so maybe after i finish with the first chapter of my other fic i’ll get right on that. 

ps no beta, i just kinda got this out and edited it once. so sorry if any mistakes or issues.

please thirst with me if you want to!!

Glancing around your dining room table you felt defeated by the amount of packages staring back at you. You were surprised by the latest delivery of clothing you had received for PR from a few high end designers. You knew you shouldn't have been shocked, dating a CEO of a multi million dollar cooperation came with many perks. Yet you never imagined anything like this. Knowing the mess would only stay on the table if you didn’t start tackling it. You began opening up a few packages, finding bags and shoes. Even the latest spring wear from the major brand ‘Liyue Qixing’ sat in a box for you. Before setting your eyes on a more intricate looking box. Opening it to discover some of the most beautiful lingerie you had seen in a long time. Looking at the brand name ‘Scent of Spring’. You didn’t recognize it, but you were quite enamored with the pieces inside.

Forgoing opening any more packages you quickly gathered the items in the box and wandered off to the bedroom you shared with your boyfriend. Selecting a ivory and gold silk longline balconette bra, with matching thong, and harness. The gold tulle flowers that patterned the silk and lace were soft and delicate under your fingers. You couldn’t go a second longer without wearing the beautiful set. Quickly stripping off the clothes you were wearing and slipping on the lingerie. Loving the feel of the soft lace and silk against your skin. Staring at yourself in the mirror. 

‘This lingerie had to be designed by some deity who knew Zhongli’s taste.’ You thought to yourself as you admired the way the balconette bra exposed half of your breast and how the thong straps cut into the flesh of your hip in a sexy way, giving your body a more defined silhouette.

A light bulb went off in your head, walking over to grab your phone and opening the camera app, returning back to the mirror. Posing yourself quite provocative as you snapped several photos, dropping to your knees and taking a few more photos, before flipping through them. A coy smile playing on your lips as you went to call Zhongli.

Zhongli was startled by the sound of his phone ringing on his desk, glancing down to see your contact photo, a smile immediately forming on his face, he swiped to answer.

“Hello (name), is everything alright my dear?” Zhongli greeted as he turned from the documents in front of him and leaned back in his chair. You seldom ever called him when you knew he was going to be in the office all day, preferring to email him if you needed anything so he assumed this must have been important.

“Everything is fine, just calling to see what you were up to.” You greeted over the phone. Zhongli let out a small sigh, relieved that nothing was wrong.

“I’m just preparing for a meeting with Fatui Industries in a little bit.” Zhongli started, glancing at the clock to check the time. “What are you doing today my dear.” He asked, knowing you didn’t have much on your schedule today.

“Well I was going through some packages I received, you know the PR kind. It was mostly clothes from some nice designers.” You hummed, he could hear you twirling your hair in your fingers as you spoke.

“Oh really? Hopefully they sent things that are your style.” 

“That’s why I was calling actually. There was this one package, the clothes are really nice. But I think they’re more to your taste, and I wanted to get your opinion on them.” You confessed. 

“Of course, I can do that when I get home for you if you would like.” Zhongli replied, glancing at the clock noting that he had about 27 minutes until his meeting. “I should be done with work after I meet with Signora and Childe.”

“I’m actually sending you a couple photos right now, please check your email and tell me what you think.” He couldn’t put his finger on it, but you seemed awfully excited about all of this but he complied with your request.

“Of course, one moment.” Opening his email, quickly finding the one from you at the top and opening it, his eyes widening in realization as he enlarged one of several photos in the email. His voice catching in his throat as he examined it.

“Are the clothes to your liking, sir.” You cooed from the other end of the phone, knowing very well they were in fact to his liking. 

“Ms. (Name)..” Zhongli growled quietly.

“Yes sir?” You asked innocently, Zhongli aware of the game you were playing, but nevertheless here he was clicking on the next photo, feeling his pants grow tighter as he continued to view the photos. The one of you on your knees sending more blood rushing to his already aching erection.

“Are you being a good girl right now?” 

“I’m always a good girl Sir.”

“Are you? You don’t look to be acting like a good girl in these photos.”

“Then should I send you some more photos so you make sure I’m being good?” He could feel himself getting riled up just by the implications of what was being said.

“Well… I’ve already sent them so hopefully you don’t mind.”

Not needing to be told twice Zhongli refreshed his email inbox to find a new message. Opening it to discover new attachments. Slowly he clicked the first picture. Finding you not in front of the mirror in the bedroom anymore, but now on the black sateen sheets of the bed the two of you shared. Angling the camera in a way to show how you would look if he had you pinned down. You looked ravishing, from the way you let your cleavage spill out exposing your nipples, to the way you spread your legs. 

The next photo your hand was on one of your breast cupping and pinching the nipple. The next photo was taken lower, your hand was now in your panties clearly teasing yourself. And the final attachment was a video, it was no more than 15 seconds, but in those 15 seconds you show yourself pumping your fingers in and out of your pussy, before dragging your fingers out of yourself and licking the wet slick off your digits. Zhongli was taking deep breaths as he watched. His eyes following your every movement.

“Sir…” You moaned, lust lacing every syllable. “Do you think I look like a good girl in those photos?”

Zhongli couldn’t say anything for a moment. Letting the video replay itself over and over, his eyes finding new things to focus on each time it replayed. From the way your plump lips wrapped around your fingers or the way you quivered when you plunged your two digits into yourself. He just wanted to see you do more.

“When did being a good girl equate to acting like quite the little slut? Surely I’ve taught you better than that.” Zhongli replied firmly, as he adjusted the way he was sitting to accommodate his throbbing cock.

“This is what you’ve taught me…” the breathiness of your voice letting him know you were in fact still touching yourself as you replied.

“I don’t recall teaching you to send provocative photos to me while I’m at work.” He glanced at the clock again, 16 minutes until the meeting. Fuck. 

“Did they make you hard?” You asked suddenly.

He was not a liar, so he wouldn’t lie to you. “Yes they did…” 

“Did they make you want to come home and stuff your big. thick. cock inside of me.” The punctionaction of your words were breaking him down.

“Yes they did…”

“Master are you going to come home so I can show you how much of a good girl I am, when I’m milking your cock.”

“My Lily… I-” Zhongli wasn’t used to you being this forward with him.

“I need you to come home and fuck me now. Because if you don’t pump me full of your cum I might go crazy.” You whined your voice working wonders on his resolve. “Please… Please come home and breed me sir.”

One final weak glance at his clock showed he had 9 minutes before they would arrive.

You moaned again calling his name out through the phone, the thread holding his composure together snapping.

“You’re not allowed to cum until I get home do you understand.” Zhongli growled into the phone, quickly on his feet, grabbing his bag and making his way to the door of his office. “Do you understand?”

“Yes sir..!” You exclaimed.

“I hope you understand you won’t be walking for the next few days my Little Lily.” He warned before leaving the safety of his private office.

“Yes yes! Hurry please.” 

“I am.” Quickly saying goodbye and hanging the phone up  with you, while walking towards two approaching figures. 

“Mr. Zhongli goo-” Signora began, reaching her hand out to greet him, but he didn’t meet it.

“My apologies, there seems to be an emergency at home, can you meet with my assistant to reschedule.” Zhongli haphazardly explained. “Again my deepest apologies.” He finished, turning on his heel and b lining it to the exit. Letting the receptionist know that he was leaving and scrambling for the parking garage.

“What do you think his emergency was?” Signora stood bewildered where Zhongli had left her and Childe.

“Do you think everything is alright?

Childe seemed to be having the best laugh of his life as his colleague pondered the obvious.

“Trust me everything’s fine.” Childe said in between laughs. “We should probably reschedule for Monday, he’ll probably need the whole weekend off.”

“This is why I hate partnering with you, you’re too vague sometimes.”

#zhongli x reader #zhongli x fem!reader #zhongli x you #modern au! genshin impact #smut #imagine a big bed of black and gold sheets #a bed designed for a god #that's the bed i wanna be spread out on for zhongli #cakey cries #genshin impact x reader #rex lapis x reader #morax x reader #genshin x reader