#first four are edited a bit lol

[ourdykeofsorrows]

Collection of Dallons from last night in Philly :3

[ma1dita]

trouble's coming for you

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 3.7k

summary: (established relationship) suggestive banter lol The one where Percy meets his two favorite counselors at Camp Half-Blood. Also known as the three times Percy is completely oblivious about you two, plus the time he learns what L-O-V-E looks like for two teen demigods. (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: PERCY POV!!! maybe the real enemy was the blue balls Luke got from a clueless 12-year-old. you’re gonna tell me you wouldn’t overthrow the gods too? scream at me in the comments and feel free to reblog :)

(posted 2/29/24, edited!!! i think!!! four hours of sleep later and a big kiss to @hotchfiles miss lari as always for inspo mwah)

—

What’s in a name?

One of the last defining memories Percy Jackson had with his mother before arriving at Camp Half-Blood was her reminder that names have power. He’s held fast to that belief, treading carefully with his words in this unfamiliar place that he’s supposed to call home so soon after losing his own.

Being the new kid for the hundredth time in his life means that he’s accustomed to change, much less introducing himself as Percy Jackson, whatever that means at this point—but then becoming known simply as the kid who causes trouble. What then, is he supposed to do, when his first friend at camp introduces him to a girl who embodies the name trouble? 

To Luke, through Percy’s actions, it seems as if he’s trying to reclaim a crown that currently belongs to the beloved head counselor of Camp Half-Blood.

—

The dining pavilion is filled with mouth-watering scents and the sound of chattering campers to the point that it’s a bit overstimulating if he thinks too hard about it. Mr. Brunn—er, Chiron told him to take it easy after the events from yesterday, but he feels a bit tough on luck after making Luke run circles around camp trying to find what he’s good at.

“Is there a Greek god of disappointment? Maybe someone should ask if he’s missing a kid,” Percy says glumly, pushing the mac and cheese around on his plate. Luke sighs, letting the boy to his right speak.

“Oizys,” Chris mumbles through full cheeks before he cocks his head at the 12-year-old, “but she’s a goddess, and her whole thing isn’t really disappointment, it’s more like failure.”

Luke looks to Chris with a half smile before looking back at the kid and saying, “We’re gonna find the thing you’re good at. I know it.” He looks like he’s going to say something else before something, or someone catches his attention and it’s almost like the older boy is transfixed, eyes shining with mischief or something deeper that Percy’s young brain couldn’t comprehend just yet. 

“And here comes trouble…” Luke says with a smirk, eyes following your figure until your feet take you to their table. The sandy-haired boy twists around, expecting to see a goddess of some sort until he sees you, violet eyes and a lilt of something sinister—giving off the energy of someone who holds power but also likes to fuck with it. You cross your arms over your chest, gaze floating over the three boys and at the tip of your chin, Luke takes his plate off the table, prompting you to hop up and slide onto the smooth surface in front of him. 

“You look like someone kicked your puppy, so you must be the new kid. Peter, right?”

A snort of laughter comes from behind your slouched form, Luke partially concealed but body obviously shaking with amusement as he looks at you.

“He might just turn out to be a puppy kicker one day,” the son of Hermes jokes, “Meet Percy Jackson.”

“That’s not…”

You sigh at Luke’s idea of a joke, face incredulous as you lean over and conjure strawberries onto Percy’s plate. He’d never seen anything like that before, someone so casual about their abilities, but he didn’t have much of a reference past yesterday. This camp keeps surprising him in ways he’s never imagined possible.

“Heard D gave you a hard time earlier, sorry about him—I’d blame it on withdrawals but he’s just an asshole,” you offer with a smile and a handshake as you introduce yourself, watching the boy’s eyes widen with wonder.

“It’s not your fault…I’m used to being the new kid.”

Eyebrows furrowing at his tone, you lean in closer, voice turning serious. You’re a lot like Mr. D in the sense that it’s easy for you to poke at the kids who come through here for a reaction to make sure they’re okay mentally. When they don’t react is usually the call for help.

“Well, new kid, if anyone gives you a problem here at camp, you let me know. Even if it’s these two hooligans, or if it’s my dad.”

“You’re talking to our lovely head counselor, Percy. She calls the shots around here,” Chris chimes in jest. But only one part of your sentence sticks in his mind as he whips his head up from munching on a berry. 

“He’s your dad?”

“Yeah, unfortunately,” you giggle, “and though you’re sweet and I would love to have you as a sibling, he kind of has a rule on having too many kids at once, unlike other gods.”

“A rule he’s already broken,” Luke drones, hand fidgeting with the black bandana tied around your thigh, “but who knows? If Percy ends up to be one of you, well…may the gods have mercy on us all.”

A deadpan stare is directed at the scarred boy, and you swipe at his curls like a feral cat, making him wince and laugh all the same as he bats you away.

“Tough shit, 11. Do you know how many hellions inhibit your cabin? Your dad inflicts agony on me personally every time another one of your siblings walks past the boundaries.”

The petty squabble is interrupted by the chime of the bell over your heads, but you two are still in a world of your own. It reminds Percy of the time he watched two subway rats fight over a pizza slice on the 6—he didn’t really know who to root for then either. Chris sighs and gets up, nudging Luke to follow, which he does begrudgingly as he claps his large hand on your leg. You hiss.

“Our turn!” Luke says with a hint of sarcasm. 

“Our turn for what?”

“Burnt offerings,” you explain as you chomp on a strawberry, “the gods like the smell, so it gets their attention before you say a prayer.” You notice Percy stay in his seat, which makes a smile pull at your lips, “Think you’re off the hook for today though, bud. Or you can be just like me.”

“Don’t give him any ideas, trouble. I’ll throw in a few for Hestia.” Luke chews at his lip as he leans over you to grab a few berries off of Percy’s plate to toss into the fire for you. 

“You don’t pray?”

“I’m not really the religious type. I’ve got what I need,” you concede, leaning back on your palms as you watch the son of Hermes stand for a few extra seconds at the hearth. “Besides, my godrent is right over there, and Luke worries enough for me. It’s more his thing,” you say with a lazy smile. The campers filing out of the dining hall wave at you and you enthusiastically greet everyone with dancing fingers. He doesn’t think he’s ever met anyone that…happy to be on the job, but things work differently around here, so he doesn’t think much of your upbeat attitude.

“Eat up. Some of that strength has to go to you. Gonna need it.” You say ruffling Percy’s hair, and when Luke comes back, he tugs at the shoelaces of your boots until you kick his hands away. You both share a smile like people do a secret, even here in the open air.

“Do they like the smell of burnt mac and cheese?” Percy says curiously, eating another spoonful of the meal. His head hurts at another thing to consider in this brand-new world he’s walked into.

“They like the smell of begging,” Luke grins, and you laugh like a firework going off, making Percy’s lips pull up into a smile.

“I’m not much of a beggar though, if you ask me.”

The son of Hermes hums at you like he wants to say otherwise, and you slap his chest as you suck air through your teeth. Beneath the wood top of the table and with Percy being none the wiser, your fingers intertwine with Luke’s like it’s second nature. 

“You burn what you’ll miss the most. Then they know you really mean what you’re about to say, so they listen.” 

Luke takes a breath after explaining how things work for the nth time to the kid, knowing Percy’s quite persistent about making his dad notice him. He remembers being jaded too—striving to be the best for a lick of his dad’s attention and all of his efforts were done in vain. Even though the kid’s arrival at camp was a bit unexpected, Luke doesn’t mind showing him around. 

Hopefully, less work on your end means that he can spend more time with you once this is over with— but by the looks of how the day is going so far, he’s not so sure. He hopes his offerings reach the gods and they grant him extra patience for his good deeds. Watching you laugh at something Percy says as you all walk out of the dining pavilion, Luke wonders if you know that every offering he burns for the goddess of the hearth and home is so that she’ll protect you.

—-

“Lights out in 10 minutes, cabin 11! Everyone ready for bed?”

The sound of your voice jolts Percy awake from his post-dinner nap and he blinks slowly until he sees you walking towards him with extra blankets and pillows in your grasp. The other campers were kind of stand-offish, and after praying to his mom he was overwhelmed with the feeling of missing her, so much so that it drained the rest of his energy.

“Long day, huh bud?”

Drowsy with sleep, for a moment, Percy forgets where he is—the unfamiliar walls of the cabin making him shift with unease as he rubs at his eyes. The blurry version of you makes his chest go warm and for a second, it’s like—

“Mom?”

He blinks again, his pale face turning red when he realizes his slip-up. Percy’s shoulders drop when he hears giggles from somewhere in the big cabin and you reach out to smooth his hair away from his face with a gentle smile.

“Don’t worry about it. Everyone who first comes to 11 gets nightmares. For some of them, they don’t leave,” you mutter. Percy notices your eyes flicker over to Luke’s bed, where he’s zipping up his hoodie and chatting with one of his half-siblings. Cabin 11 is finally quieting down for the night—children scrambling into their bunks, doing nighttime routines, and having quiet conversations. It’s all so weird, this being everyone’s normal.

“You’re not alone though. Saw you earlier, outside. I still pray to my mom sometimes. She's quite the listener,” you say with a sad twinkle in your eye. The kid sniffs as you hand him the pillows and blankets, finally meeting your gaze.

“Did your mom…” Die too? The words feel like lead in his throat, feeling heavy as he swallows it down. He doesn’t want to cry in front of the pretty counselor, much less speak the truth, because if he says it out loud, it means his mom dying must have been real. Also since you’ve seen him sit in the dark of the forest burning blue jelly beans like a freak. What he didn’t know is that you pride yourself on being one. It takes one to know one, after all.

“Yeah. Makes for one hell of an origin story, but I found my place here, and people who care. I know you will too, when you’re rea—” Your words trail off when you see Luke walk past the both of you with a cool expression before he nods towards the door, and you squeeze Percy’s shoulder before getting up.

“Night guys! It’s getting late so we’ll have to do a story next time, okay?” You walk down the aisle patting heads and tucking in smaller campers, and he hears you whack the younger Stoll brother when he teasingly says, “It’s not fair that Luke gets a bedtime story and we don’t…”

“Connor, enough. I’ve lost count of how many times you’ve woken up and called me mom, so save it for tomorrow.” He must have been the one laughing earlier.

“Everyone say goodnight trouble!” Luke calls out with a coy expression, making you roll your eyes as you flick the light off to a symphony of jeers. It’s finally quiet as Percy is propped up against some pillows that smell like raspberries and soft cotton before he realizes he has to pee. 

But Chris said harpies hunt kids after curfew… he thinks.

In a moment of sheer panic, Percy looks around in the darkness of the cabin before the sound of your cackling pierces through the dim light from the outside. He hops up from the makeshift cot and tugs his shoes back on, slowly creeping past the long row of bunks to not disturb other campers before he gets to the door. Your head turns quickly to the intrusion as you spring away from Luke, stubbing a cigarette underneath the wood panel out of sight when Percy steps through the doorway. 

“Sorry, I need to use the bathroom,” he says sheepishly as Luke nods, scratching his neck and leaning a far distance away from you. Under the low burning lamps, Percy notices Luke’s cheeks redden and he wonders if he is interrupting something, but the urge to go increases as he steps between you two.

“Right. I’ll walk you to yours?” Luke blurts in one breath. With a wordless smile on your lips, you nod before Percy purposely interrupts this time.

“I can walk her, it’s on the way to the bathrooms, right?”

If only this poor kid knew he was being the cockblock of the century.

“Yeah, Percy’s got me. The harpies won’t like you missing curfew, Castellan,” you tease, stepping around him with a shit-eating grin. Your hair almost floats in the gentle breeze, and Luke rolls his eyes.

“Stay out of trouble. I mean it,’ he sighs, before shoving you off the porch, and you laugh at the irony of his words. Looking back at Luke, Percy noticed his eyes were on you like he wanted to live in your skin, which was equal parts disgusting and confusing to the 12-year-old. His steps double in pace as you both walk down the path and a brief side glance at your stifled smile quickly makes the kid wonder if you’d let him. Pushing the sleeves of Luke’s hoodie past your elbows, you wave at Percy’s rushing figure as he almost bolts to the bathroom and you lean against the doorway of your empty cabin. You turn the light on and look across the way to see your boyfriend still leaning against his door, so you flip him off. Of course, he takes that as his cue to saunter over.

But then the loud clanging sound of pipes bursting reaches both of your ears and toilet water floods the dirt near the back end of your cabin. 

So close.

“I’m gonna go check on Annie to see if she’s still on duty. Tough luck, babe,” you giggle, pressing a kiss to his cheek before walking in the direction that Percy went, sending the son of Hermes to drag his feet towards your cabin, alone (he didn’t expect to fall asleep propped over your covers waiting up for you, but a lot happened in that damn bathroom).

—

“Hey, today feel like a winning kind of day to you?” Annabeth smirks at the son of Hermes. Next to them, Percy feels a hand clap him on the shoulder and all three of them turn to see you donning red.

“Didn’t you three hear the conch? Wouldn’t want you to fall behind,” you say with a grin as Luke steps up to you and whistles lowly.

“Didn’t know you were playing today. It’s a shame you look that good in red.”

Annabeth fake gags as she crosses her arms to say, “You’re also currently on enemy territory if you haven’t noticed.”

“Oh, you wound me. I’m not a threat. Percy, I obviously don’t have the flag, right?”

He nods a bit dumbly, still worried about the mechanics of the game and the part he has to play for the blue team, but no one else seems to share his concerns.

“Anyways, sorry I’m not on your team, Perce. The Ares kids snatched me up as soon as my name was on the roster, so I came to wish you all luck.”

“This better not be a diversion tactic, trouble,” Luke simpers, playfully tugging at your staff, which you use for leverage to step up onto a rock to meet him at eye level.

“Nah. You know I like the competition, angelface,” you whisper, almost daring him to do something.

“Bite me, trouble.”

There’s a fire in his eyes you’d love to stoke, but now’s not the time or place. You can’t help but indulge though—the both of you enjoy the reactions you can pull from each other.

“You’d like it too much.”

“Alright now,” Annabeth groans, calling your name, rolling her eyes as she pulls at Luke’s arm, “Gotta remember he’s your enemy!” 

“I’M TRYING!” You laugh, shaking your head and walking back towards your team as you shoot them a fake salute. It all happens too quickly as Percy’s unable to catch the spitfire words between the two of you, thinking further about how he might get maimed during this game (which in the grand scheme of things, he almost does. Thanks Clarisse).

“Those two are hopeless! Walk faster, sunshine—we lost too much time watching whatever that was.” Percy stumbles along the forest path as he follows Annabeth, the both of them leaving Luke smirking to himself as he follows the rest of their team. 

Hours later, at Clarisse’s muddy feet and holding her broken spear, Percy hears cheering in the distance as he watches the blue team led by Luke waving the red flag in one hand and your legs supported by his other. You’re in a fireman’s hold across his shoulders and everyone watches as the son of Hermes spins you around like a Tilt-a-Whirl until the sound of your shrieks is audible from the shoreline. He sets you down gently, dominant hand still around your waist as he snickers, “Got my win and my girl. Must be time to celebrate.” You laugh at his absurdity, pulling his helmet off and wiping the sweat off his forehead with your bandana.

“You’re always going to be a loser in my eyes.” 

Slapping the plush of your hip, the sound echoes in the air—suddenly quiet as you gasp. But you’re not looking at Luke anymore, but rather the gleaming trident above Percy’s head as it’s revealed he’s a forbidden child. His jaw tightens at the sight, and there are a lot of emotions running through him, remembering Thalia and knowing that his plans will have to be altered once more because of Percy Jackson. You squeeze his hand before walking away from him to follow your dad and Chiron to the Big House, shooting him a nervous glance.

Damn.

—

The boys have been sparring for hours, and just as you think Percy’s getting the hang of it, Luke thrusts forward with an energy no one should have towards a 12-year-old. Although a bit concerning, he does have a lot to catch up on how to fight like a demigod before his quest in a few days.

“Take a break or else you’ll be crawling away from camp by the end of the week,” you joke, handing Percy and Luke bottles of cold water. Your boyfriend takes big gulps before pouring the rest over his head, leaving you gaping and a little hot under his stare as he nudges your chin and winks.

“You’re doing that on purpose!”

Luke shrugs slyly, and the both of you watch Percy catch his breath. He leans over your shoulder, the tone of his voice sultry as it tickles your ear, “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other word would smell as sweet.” 

You bite your lip, before bursting with laughter—which isn’t exactly the reaction he thought you’d have. Maybe he should’ve finished reading the sonnet before falling asleep, but you always take too long with your nighttime skincare routine.

“That doesn’t mean what you think it means, but you’re cute for trying,” you coo, leaning closer so that your cheek touches his. Luke’s whole face is warm from exertion and now embarrassment, but he smiles nonetheless at the proximity. He can’t believe he still misses you, even when you’re skin-to-skin like this.

“That stanza…Isn’t it about names being meaningless?” Percy says between gasps of air before he pours the rest of the water bottle over his head like Luke did. He’s looking up at the both of you as he leans against a tree, instantly feeling more rejuvenated.

You jerk up from your seated position on the large rocks, excited to talk about Shakespeare, and Luke almost pouts at the loss of your attention.

“Yeah! Good job, bud. I forget you went to a hoity-toity charter school,” you say tongue-in-cheek, before turning back to your boy.

“So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, and, for thy name, which is no part of thee, take all myself. You’re gonna have to interpret that one yourself, angelface.” 

“Trust I have no fucking clue but you sound really hot when you talk dirty to me,” Luke says with a shrug. Percy laughs at that, before finally bringing up the question that’s been on his mind since Luke introduced you to him.

“Why do you call her trouble? She seems okay to me.”

“Thanks,” you say dryly, but the older boy leans on his arm with a lovestruck expression as he gazes at you. Oh…Percy thinks, brain feeling freshly washed. How did he miss that?

“She used to get in trouble a lot,” he says, before you elbow him hard, “I mean, we used to get in trouble, she’d always drag me into it.”

“You always offered! Don’t twist the fucking story,” you shriek, and the boys laugh at your exasperation.

“Yeah anyways, she’d always find me. Still does, my partner in crime. Trouble always comes for me,” Luke murmurs, waggling his eyebrows and intertwining your fingers together. Your jaw drops and cheeks flush and Percy thinks he understands better now, but gets confused again with what you do next.

You almost slap the goddamn scar off that boy’s face.

—

It is a terrible thing to be so open: it is as if my heart put on a face and walked into the world. -Sylvia Plath

ask to be put on luke/general taglists!

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[withleeknow]

rue de rivoli.

pairing: hyunjin x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, semi edited lol, a little sappy and very self indulgent and inspired by a very specific instance in that one hyunjin vlog in japan 🤷‍♀️ word count: 0.9k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

hyunjin might be the worst - and you mean it, the worst - travel partner.

it’s all because of that ridiculously expensive camera of his and the little hobby that he’s taken up on.

“hey,” he calls out softly, trailing a few steps behind you as he raises the camera up to his face again. “hold it right there.”

you huff out a breath in mild annoyance, blowing some hair away from your face as the air escapes from your lips.

“seriously? you’ve taken a gazillion pictures already. this is the third time you’ve made me stop in the past thirty minutes.”

“but the lighting is just perfect.”

“we’re only here for a few days! i can’t see all the places i wanna see if you keep making me stop every two seconds!”

it was cute at first, how he kept asking you to stop in the middle of the street to snap a photo of you. it made you blush every time he did, because he would take another brief moment to admire the final product on his camera’s display screen and tell you that even though the photo turned out great, it could never truly capture how beautiful you are through his eyes. then he’d press a kiss to your cheek or a swift peck to your lips before taking your hand and tugging you along, en route to the tourist attractions that you’ve yet to come across.

to be fair, it’s still cute, and despite your feeble irritation, you still let hyunjin take his photos every time he asks. mostly because he would start sporting a gigantic pout on his face, coupled with the way his eyes widen like a puppy begging for a treat.

“please? you look so pretty right now. pleaseee?”

you acquiesce - of course you do - because who can say no to a cute whiny hyunjin?

you roll your eyes half-heartedly, and a bright grin immediately spreads on his lips because he knows that he’s getting what he wants, the smile so brilliant that it brings out his whisker dimples and turns his eyes into adorable crescent moons.

he patters over to you on light footsteps once the shot has been snapped, proudly showing you his handy work even though you secretly think it looks the same as any other photo of you that he’s taken - sometimes it’s your side profile with your hair covering half of your face because you’re too awkward to look directly at the camera, sometimes it’s you in random poses because you’re never sure what to do with your hands while getting your picture taken.

“did you even take any photos of the scenery?”

hyunjin shrugs, pretty indifferent to your question. “yeah, a few.”

“a few? give me that, let me see... you’ve taken two hundred and sixty four photos so far and only a few are of freaking paris?!”

another shrug, then cue one of the corniest things he’s ever said to you in your entire life. “you’re prettier than paris.”

sure, it’s a massively cliché thing to say, and a teeny bit cringeworthy to hear if this were a sappy romance movie. but coming from him, you know the sentiment is entirely genuine because hyunjin is nothing if not one of the sincerest people you know.

it makes you short-circuit as you stare up at him. the sun behind him softens by a fraction as it starts to make its descent, and the slowly fading sunlight looks as though it’s found a home as his personal halo. to have someone as beautiful as him tell you that you’re prettier than the city of love itself is quite honestly a little surreal, no matter how long you’ve been together.

“that was the cheesiest shit ever,” you comment, pretending to gag but knowing perfectly well that he can see the rosy flush on your cheeks. you mutter something else - for good measure - along the lines of never going on a trip with him again.

hyunjin laughs that endearing signature laugh of his, then he twists the cap back on the camera lens and once again lets the device dangle from the strap around his neck. he pulls you toward him with ease and kisses you deeply with a smile on his lips, one that’s warmer than the parisian sun could ever hope to be.

no, hyunjin isn’t a great travel partner. yes, mostly because he takes up all of your time trying to take pictures of you instead of letting you freely wander to the spots that you’d spent a lot of time bookmarking on google maps beforehand. he might be the worst person you’ve gone on a trip with because when you’re travelling, you like to be productive with your time and be able to do everything you set out to do in the limited number of days you have.

but even then, maybe it’s not that terrible having to miss watching the sunset in front of the eiffel tower because more exquisite than all of the most renowned artworks displayed in the louvre and more enchanting than any view you can spot from montmarte is your hyunjin that you adore, who’s kissing you in the middle of a street which name you can’t even pronounce.

any irritation you had from before slowly melts away. you don’t even care (that much) that you’re in the city of love.

any city is love when you’re with him.

(even when he messes up your travel plans sometimes.)

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz-skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin @bookyeom @jisuperboard @wyzminho @amarecerasus @channection @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @judeduartewannabe @chanshyunjin @firelordtsuki (italicized = can’t tag)

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 04.03.2024]

[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.

[lemonandlime22]

Side reactions to Mc's kid calling them daddy/mommy/brother

Warning(s): cussing, Gn!Reader/Mc, not edited

A/N: Im p sure someone asked at some point for the side characters with this so here it is! and i decided to add luke to this too, i thought it would be so cute for Mc's kid to call him big brother. I'm not ganna do Raph or maephisto cause I do not know them enough lol

[Brothers ver]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Diavolo

Dia will randomly babysit you kid

its basically kidnapping but you know about it, he'll take you child from you arms and just walk away.

Anyway,

he was surprise babysitting them for a little bit while you were at HOL

he had played with them for hours and now was sitting in his office supposed to be doing paper work throwing them up in the air and catching them

they were both giggling their butts off

then the bby started making grabby hands at him and babbled a bunch of random gibberish

but then they just shouted out,

"DADA!" and continued to giggle their little heart out.

Diavolo instantly stopped and just staired at the the goblin.

After he finished processing it for like 30secs, he squealed to loud that a few ghtbulbs shattered and gently hugged them to his face so they were cheek to cheek.

Overall, extremally happy! He instantly calls you to tell you all about it over and over again. He also insists you two move into the castle immediately.

Barbatos

You and the baby had come over from some tea with Barbs and Dia.

Barbs was feeding them some cake while you were talking to Diavolo

but they ended up getting frosting on their chubby lil face when they tried to eat the cake by themself with their hands

and Barbatos offered to go clean them up in the kitchen so you could continue your conversation with Diavolo.

As they sit on the baby sat on the counter, Barbs got a wet cloth to clean their face

they were so curious about everything and kept squirming all around trying to get to and touch everything that caught their eye.

Barbs ended up having to hold them in his arms as he cleaned their face

they kept on squirming in his arm and trying to babble out a sentence

and finally after the 50th time of them pushing away the wash cloth were they able to get shout out their first words

"Nah- Daddy!"

Barbatos merely sighed with a small smile before placing them back on the counter and showing them the objects they thought interesting

then they finally let him clean their face.

Overall, he's quite pleased, not only that they refered to him as their father but also that it was more than one word. He thought it very impressive. He told you what happened once he was able to have a private conversation with you.

Simeon

Simeon was emergency babysitting for you while you were taking an exam

they were having a lovely time walking around on campus

he showed them all the safe flowers and let them sniff them

they quite liked the flowers so the two of them stayed in the garden where he showed them how to make flower crowns.

As he finished making one, he placed it on their head and they started giggling and babbling all about

they reached for flowers themself and he picked the ones they wanted and helped them make it

after they were done they kept babbling and reaching up to Simeon from his lap

he finally noticed that they were trying to say something but decided to wait and see if they could get the word out themself.

"It's alright dear, you can do it-"

"...Dada!"

He froze for a moment to shock before laughing and lowing his head for them to place the flower crown.

You ended up finding them there in the garden playing with the flowers, he told you all about what happened.

Overall, very happy obv. He felt the same warm fuzzy feeling he did when Luke accidentally called him dad. He also insists that the four of you have dinner together at least once a week.

Luke (platonic obv)

You were visiting Purgatory Hall with you little chubby infant

you sat on the couch talking with Simeon while Luke and the baby played on the floor.

Luke always liked to have actual conversations with them since they were a new born, even tho he new they couldn't respond.

He was playing with their blocs with them while telling them all about his day and those "evil" demons

and they would occasionally babble something back at him

you had walked into the kitchen with Simeon to grab smth when you heard a loud gasp then Luke excitedly saying,

"Did- did you mean to say 'brother' [Name]!?!"

Then your child yelling,

"BABER!"

By then you two walked back into the common room and say Luke hugging them and maybe crying

you couldn't tell if he was crying or laughing

it was both.

Overall, he so happy!! he now always introduces himself as their big brother when he's with them.

Refused to let them go back to HOL and you ended up having a sleepover at Purgatory Hall

also, always runs to hug them when he sees them, doesn't matter who they're being carried by if it they're walking themself. He. Will. Always. Hug. Them.

Solomon

Solomon was over at the HOL for a small dinner party

you ended up being dragged off by some of the brothers so he decided to stay and hang out with the baby.

He sat on the couch with them laying next to him both sipping on their drink

Solomon had a glass of demonus and the kid a sippy cup with some juice

He started telling them all about his day and some random stories that came to mind

and in return they would babble back at him

almost like they were trying to make conversation.

After a while tho he slowly stopped talking and focused more on people-watching

but he was pulled out of that by the infant climbing on his lap

"Hm? What's up hun?"

Once they got comfortable they just began to slap his thigh and mumbled something over and over again

"Heh, what was that?"

The little munchkin just slapped harder and shouted,

"Daddy!"

After a moment of shock he just laughed to himself,

"Hehe, yeah..."

and messing up their hair.

He was seemingly the only one who heard.

Overall, he had a content smile for the rest of the evening, and he happily put them to bed for you. He didn't end up telling you, wanting it to be a surprise.

Thirteen

You two were just walking with each other and your baby was in one of those chest holder things

they'd grab at all the shops they found interesting and Thirteen would also point things out to them

when they got fussy for whatever reason, Thirteen would talk them down until they were laughing and happy again.

You had to grab smth from a magic store but couldn't bring in the child in fear that they might knock smth over and get rly bad

anyway, you handed them to Thirteen and went to do your business.

The two of em were just chilling together on a bench outside of the store

the baby was playing with her hair, absolutely enthralled by it

she ended up getting them some ice cream to distract them from pulling her hair.

As they ate, getting it all over their face they both sat back down on the bench

"Well aren't you rude" She said pinching their nose "What do you say"

"tatya mama!" they shouted with a big smile

she wasn't expecting any answer maybe some babbling but NOT THAT-

she was in absolute shock

wasn't until you sat next to her that she snapped out of it.

Overall, has no idea how to react, she'll tell you about it and after she learned it was their first word, she was a bit more insistent on hanging out with you two.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[beetlesau]

Bus Ride, Drabble Dabble, Bakugo/Reader

I'm obsessed with the idea that Bakugo would go feral for a woman that's as normie as his dad just because his mom CHASED his dad DOWN because she wanted him, And Bakugo is his moms twin. ANYWAY. Just messing around with a tame version of that idea. Being bored. Zero Edits, I don't even know if I spelt names correctly lol K Baaiiiii

"Why does your hair look like that?" Mineta peaked over the bus seat down at you. You instinctually pulled the collar of your shirt up to cover any cleavage that could have been showing from that view. 

You sighed, it was a common question back in school before UA. You'd been made fun of for it for as long as you could remember, but you never cared. It was your second year at UA, you'd thought someone would have said something sooner than now, but here you were. You made an obvious glance up at Mineta's purple grapelike head before bringing your attention back to his face. 

"Same reason yours looks like that, I guess. Our quirk just made us different." You looked back down to a Heroes Weekly Tabloid magazine you'd been busying yourself with prior. 

Your hair was normal, bland even, save for the bands of white that flowed down from your temples. The doctors said that when your quirk manifested, it must have put such a strain on you that your body responded in the odd way it did. The same thing happened to your eye color. You had such intense grey eyes after your quirk appeared you hardly remember the color they were before that day.  

"No I mean your haircut!" he chided. Your eye twitched before you looked up again at the pervert menace. You noticed that comment also grabbed the attention of the others on the bus. 

In the seat across from Mineta sat Ashido and Uraraka. Uraraka, who sat by the window, glowered at the boy as best as her round sweet face could. Ashido sneered and shot a glance over to Mineta's seatmate, Kaminari. A look that said, "if you don't do something, I will."

Kaminari, not wanting to have his face melted off as collateral damage, stood in his chair and turned back to face you as well. He put on his best flirty smile and propped his cheek on his fist. "I don't know, I think it looks pretty good. Edgy. Mysterious."

"Yeah, it's a mystery why she has that haircut. It's so unflattering on you! You could be an absolute ten if you'd just--"

Mina flung her leg across the aisle, shoving her boot into Mineta AND Kaminari's sides.

"You dimwitted jerks! You're lucky she doesn't have Uraraka float your two asses and hog tie you to the bus like a couple of balloons!"

"Say the word and I'll do it, girl!" Uraraka looked at you with her dusted pink cheeks. She may have been a softy but she was a ride-or-die. 

You laughed at your two best friends and shook your head no. It was alright. It wasn't anything you weren't used to.

"She cuts it herself." a gravelly voice across from you catches your attention. "Didn't you say that, like, first day of school? Do you not pay attention, idiots?" Bakugo takes one of his earphones out as he readjusts against his school bag. All the noise must have bothered him enough to chime in. 

All four members of the conversation lean out into the aisle and look back at the blonde. Did he just say he remembered some random thing someone said about themselves? 

"Oh. Right, yeah I kind of do remember that." Kaminari pulls out his phone and starts typing away like a madman. Not seconds later a couple of simultaneous dings are heard a bit further up the bus. "Uh, do you know why she cuts it herself though?"

"What's it to you dumbass? She's right there, ask her yourself." he sucks his teeth annoyed, but looks over to you. "Don't tell this shithead anything you don't want to." You smiled at him, your cheeks finding a bit of color before you turned back to Kaminari. You raised your eyebrows at him as though to say, "You heard the man."

Kaminari groans before trying a new tactic. "I mean, I already know the answer. I remember, I was just trying to see if YOU remembered. In fact, I think I probably know more about her than anyone else on this bus." he stated matter-of-factly. You looked at him with an incredulous expression before the hothead across from you spoke out again. 

"You're full of shit." he turns to you again, "You cut it that way so it doesn't get in your way! That's why it doesn't matter what the hell it looks like. You're not trying to win fuckin beauty pageants, you're trying to kick villain ass."

"What's going on, what did I miss? What was that text about?" Kirishima crouched in the aisle, looking to Kaminari for answers. 

"Kirishima, thank god! Mineta move, let Kirishima sit there, you've been a menace long enough today." Mineta checked the seat Kirishima had just come from and saw it was across from Yaoyorozu and agreed without too much fuss.

"Oh, man, you just missed Bakugo say that the lil lady back here isn't winning any beauty pageants." Kaminari slowly shook his head in mock disappointment. 

"WHAT THE HELL? DID I FUCKING SAY THAT??? YOU WANNA KEEP PUTTING WORDS IN MY MOUTH?" Bakugo shot up from his seat, sparks popping off his hands that gripped the back of Ashido and Uraraka's chair, the smell of scorched plastic permeated before Uraraka opened her window.

"It's okay Bakugo, he's just trying to mess with you. You're right though, I just hate having my hair in my eyes so I cut my bangs myself." you blow air up from your mouth and watch as the short choppy fringe fluttered about just a bit. "One of these days I'm gonna have tech support just make me a built-in headband so I can grow them out. The grow-out stage is a bitch, is all. " you laugh.

"So that's why Bakugo called you Fringe for the first year of school!" Kirishima nodded in understanding.

"Hey, Kirishima, do you know her favorite color, by the way?" Kaminari ponders dramatically. 

"Uh, It'd be a guess, but no I don't think I've ever asked--What is your favorite color?" Kirishima politely and enthusiastically requested the information from you now. 

"Oh! Well now hold on a minute, maybe we SHOULD guess it." Kaminari's words were laced with a layer of sticky entrapment but you were curious to see where he was going with all this nonsense. 

"Sure, go ahead." you shrugged. 

"Let's take turns guessing. Is it teal?" he looked at you expectantly, and you gave him a cocked side-eye. 

"No-"

"OH darn. Okay Bakugo, your turn. What's her favorite color?"

"This is stupid." he huffed

"Well if you don't know, just say so--"

"It's the same as her birthstone, jackass."

Your blush told Kaminari he was correct, or at least close enough. 

"What makes you so sure? Did she tell you?"

"Obviously it's the same as her birthstone, she has a bracelet she wears that's that color, so why wouldn't it be? It's not that hard to figure out if you weren't an idiot."

"--you know her birthdate?" Uraraka's eyes were wide and she was blushing profusely, knowing full well what was happening. 

"What's her favorite food?" Mina piped up, ignoring the subtlety that Kaminari was attempting, seeing exactly what he was trying to get from the angry blonde. 

"How the hell should I know." Bakugo sunk back down in his seat, attempting to put his dead earphones back on, conveying he was done with the interrogation. 

"Well that's a tough one anyway, I'll eat just about anything. I'm not picky." you shrugged, trying to save Bakugo from any more annoyance. 

"Psh. Yeah, but you have such an annoying sweet tooth. I swear I came down to the common area one time and you were practically scarfing down a cupcake. I thought you'd end up eating the wrapper." Bakugo interjected. 

"Oh, that's ... That's true actually!" you grinned. "Well, the sweets part. I was not going to eat the wrapper! Sato had made some for the class. Maybe if you didn't go to bed so early you could of known how amazing it was." you pouted.

"I don't eat sweets before bed, are you nuts? How's anyone supposed to sleep hopped up on sugar? I don't know how you do it." he mumbled, crossing his arms and spreading to take up more room in his seat. 

"Ah, well I suppose I do have trouble falling asleep sometimes." you considered, "I should try out your schedule for a week and see if it helps!"

"WHY ARE YOU ALL STARING? What the fuck could you all have to look at? Fucking annoying." Bakugo stopped to yell when he noticed the small group of onlookers were, well, still looking at the two of you. 

"Kaminari, he's right, you should mind your own business." Mina said as she and Uraraka turned back around to go back to their own thing. Mina turned to send you a glance and pointed at her phone, indicating you should check your phone. 

Looking at your recent messages you see one from the pinkette,

So are you going to pretend it's normal for THAT guy to know everything about you??

You bit your lip as you glanced over at the annoyed guy staring into the back of the seat in front of him. His leg was bouncing in boredom and probably irritation if you had to guess.

Mina was your best friend, but she could be a bit dramatic. 

You weren't sure you were ready to tell her that Bakugo had made it known to you that he was interested. Like, VERY interested.

And you were, less obviously, interested back. You knew his favorite food. His favorite color. He even told you things that made him feel insecure and confided his feelings about being a hero to you. 

It happened suddenly one day. You noticed him looking at you, like actually looking. He held you back after class and said your actual name and not just fringe. That was when you realized you had feelings for him. You didn't hate the nickname, and you considered yourself on good terms with him. He acknowledged your strength and treated you as an equal. But something about the way he said your name made your mind go fuzzy. It felt like you'd just woken from a dream and saw him for the first time. Were his eyes always that intense? 

"I talked to my old man the other day, and he told me some gross shit about how when he and my mom met- she pursued him relentlessly. Borderline insane is what it sounded like to me. My pop apparently doesn't have a spine and he just gave in. Whatever." Bakugo rolled his eyes before waiting for you to say something. 

"Oh! Um, I don't know, I guess I can see how that's romantic. Uh, why are you telling me this though?" you shuffled your weight from one foot to the other, noticing there was a bit too much heat bouncing off the two of you. 

Bakugo bit the inside of his cheek, taking a moment to find the wording. "I'm not crazy like that. I'm not some clone of my old Hag I just wanted to say." he lifted his arm to stretch his back, his actions nonchalant for such an odd topic of conversation. "Anyway, I waited a year is all I wanted to say, so I think I'm going to persue you now."

"Wh-what? You waited. Ah what?" you stammered, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. "W-what if I don't want you to pursue m-me?" you laughed. You were nervous. And nervous you always say something to deflect the awkward feelings. 

"I'm not very good at not getting what I want, but like I said-I'm not crazy like that old hag, I'll let you have your own say. Anyway. I'll see you later." and then he left you standing there dazed and confused. 

You looked over to him now, sitting alone in his seat. Why else would you have been sitting in the back if not because you knew he'd be back here? You smile to yourself. While this could be your secret for a little while longer you really couldn't resist after seeing his commitment to knowing you in front of the others. 

You pull out your earphones, put one ear in, and hold out the other to Bakugo, who accepts without hesitation. He shoots you a nod and pushes his bag to the floor making room for you to sit by him. 

And you do. You probably will for the rest of your life if he has his way, and you're happy with that. 

[vriheddiyev]

The mane edits are here!

First the links: patreon drive

So I finally managed to pack these. The shorter ones work well, while the longest mane has some clipping issues especially on the heavy body type. These are simply meant to add some variety to the lacking cas options that we got for horses... They're a bit more toned down versions of the original mane styles. They work with maxis models and my own mod!

There's four styles in total:

shorter standing mane and forelock

longer mane and droopy forelock

button braids

short pulled mane and forelock

I couldn't merge the packs because now I really have issues while preparing to reinstall windows so the manes are packed into a zip file. It contains a folder so that the package files won't fly all around your mods folder. I'll update and merge the files once I get windows running well again (currently I'm getting an error lol)

You will need a software to unzip the files! My go to are either 7-zip or Winrar. Once you unzip them you don't really need the .zip file anymore ^^

[thatdeadaquarius]

PART 2 - Genshin Impact SAGAU / Isekai: Gifts to Give Your Allogene!

ELEMENTS HERE: Dendro, Hydro, Cryo, Geo

Part 1 / Part 2 (you're here!)

☆

Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (they/them only)

Planet: General SAGAU / Isekai Stuff, Platonic Cuteness

Orbit: Headcanons-ish, a couple sentences for each

Stars: a little bit of everybody as of Baizhu/Kaveh update! including rare beloveds like Aloy! (I hope I got them all… at least the playable ones… ) Please understand that some characters are more “foreground” characters and have more screen time so I may have written some more for them because I knew them better!

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: weapons for gifts?? 16+ Older Teen Audiences Advised, light cussing

☆

& Trigger Warnings: None Known.

☆

Edit 1/1/24: Hey I expanded on this in my Eldritch Fanfic Post Part 2, but I just wanted to vet the old posts and say I did do a form of exoticism by including the word "Huangdi" throughout this.

I've since replaced it for better readability with "Emperor" but I didn't want to erase my mistake like it never happened. I'm genuinely sorry about this, I never had ill intentions by including it, but regadless of intentions that's the impact of my actions. I'm absolutely going to be looking out for kind of thing in the future/get a sensitivity reader/a beta read from that culture to check me.

I hope you still enjoy my writing and can understand.

Dendro Allogenes:

Tighnari = with some help again to put magic into it, you give Tighnari some head coverings you sewed together that have the power of Cryo in them! So now he can actually see what plants are out in the desert, visit Cyno, or just enter the desert to his heart’s content, which, yes, his tail started unconsciously wagging after you explained what it was. “Oh! For me? Well I’ve taken to avoiding the desert if I can because of… wait a minute, you say it has cryo in it? What? How does that work?? You think it’ll genuinely help me in the desert?? You made it???” Tighnari’s ears are all twitching with excitement, and he’s holding the covering (that matches his clothes/dark green) like it’s a new plant for study, omg he pulled out his magnifying glass and everything-

Collei = so she’s actually a really good seamstress, and makes plushies a lot, esp for kids! but one day you found one of her first attempts, a ragged looking sort of pale pink bunny… her first attempt at a plushie Baron Bunny!! so you decided to mimic her design (still baron bunny but with a sort of Sumeru-like clothing on it), and sew her one! You made a whole day of it, eating together, going to the best spots to sightsee (for as long as Collei was up for it/not too tired) and then gifted her the plushie Baron Bunny! She accidentally let out a small scream that startled both of you tbh, and then snatched that shit so quick lmao, kicking her feet on the picnic blanket and everything! With your permission of course, Collei then tackled you for a hug lol, she ranted about all the little details and made you tell her several times over how you made it so she could make some more in the future too! She may or may not have talked about missing Amber and teared up… but then you redirected her attention to the bunny saying, it’s like a gift from Amber and you really! (you also added a function where, if you squeeze the Baron, it’ll dish out some healing power and some heat! …Collei tackle hugged you twice for that one)

Alhaitham = what a hard person to get gifts for, he’d probably be like “thanks” no matter what you got him 😭, he means it tho, it would just be underwhelming… but on the bright side, he definitely seems like he’d show a deeper appreciation for handmade gifts! Since you learned how to make one for Yoimiya, you decide this calls for another handmade hammock (also bc Teyvat doesnt have hammocks)! You painted symbols like green crystals and geometric patterns, but also lions and a golden Palace of Alcazarzaray for Kaveh, and your symbol, the eight point star (like the four point but with flare/not like the jewish symbol with equal points lol)!! So that way he can keep lazing away, and avoid people more comfortably lmao, and also if he is going to do that, he doesnt have to sit on rocks or hard structures for hours reading, and you hope it’s encouragement for him to spend time outside/take a break and nap! (Haitham knows that’s part of why you gave him this, even if you didn’t say it, and so he makes a point to do that more often to make you happy, take the advice for his health) oh look, after thoroughly looking at your craftsmanship for 10 minutes, you got a smile in addition to a “thanks”, damn, that’s actually how you know he likes it a lot <3 :)

Nahida = you remember vaguely from Nahida’s storylines/friendship levels that she loves games, and so you collect her a nice deck for Genius Invokation TCG! You also made her a cute bag and container for it, her bag is a rose maple moth crocheted bc really this was an excuse to just make the cutest character in Sumeru look even cuter, (like this, i tried very hard ok, bc this doesnt exist yet, im shocked) The first image is most correct, (imagine the face and stuff is cuter/simpler) as that’s also the backpack part! Her eyes were so big when you handed it to her, (you honestly were shocked they even could get any bigger lol). She jumped up and down excitedly with the backpack on (ur fucking heart, just like you intended, the wings flapped around and everything <333) you are also currently working on a luna moth (the pale green moth) in case she wants it to match her outfit more! even tho Nahida insists something handmade once is enough, you can see the childish yearning in her eyes, like a kid trying to say no to a toy that’s being offered right in front of them lmao

Kaveh = pretty girls deserve pretty things, and you were definitely feeling the pressure to make something high quality enough for Kaveh, tho u know he’s sweet enough that he’d appreciate anything you’d take the time to handmake (and tbh.. it sounds a little arrogant, but ur hoping something so cared for by what he, or at least most people see as some kind of all-powerful god above the archons, will boost his self-esteem/confidence in his own worth more, or at least let him know one more person cares about him…) so you didnt make it super detailed, and you put a note on it too to let him know your not as great at that as he would be, but you made a model of the part of the teapot house you’re going to design for him! Like a sort of sneakpeak, you made a small lookalike of Alhaitham and his house, but filled it with decor like if Howl didnt hoard all the cool shit in his room in Howl’s Moving Castle, but instead spread it out, and sort of used your modern taste for layout, (not the ugly ass corporate aesthetic) and a small garden. You also made nearly all the decor and stuff something interesting (like some primogem strings, they can be pretty small, for string lights, lampgrass from Mondstadt that he’s never seen etc.) and while you very shyly handed him the model at first, he was practically vibrating with excitement!! “You made this?! Oh of course I don’t expect perfection, it looks wonderful so far, especially if this was your first attempt!!” Kaveh has like sat down, and is delicately holding it and looking around, and when you tell him it’s an actual space, meant for him, he gently sets down the model and grabs you by the shoulders, “Show. Me. Now. …please?” looking at you with very determined puppy dog eyes lol

Yaoyao = …idk what you expected. It was so obvious. A crocheted bunny backpack. brown, so it matches her, since her basket was brown, or you could leave off the feet, whichever u prefer, and anyway, Yaoyao is always doing things for others, so the little girl was so cute and pink when you actually gave her something instead! (once again, using ur old trick of making the person think u need something then shocking them with a handmade gift instead hehe) She IMMEDIATELY switched it out for her basket and has pretty much converted to using it full time! (tho when she needs the more solid one she’ll still wear it, she just alternates, esp if there’s some occasion she’ll deffo wear the bunny backpack, it’s her “fancy god-made bunny backpack!”)

Baizhu = the doctor isn’t one to talk about himself a lot, so you weren’t sure what he would like other than some new tea… but you wanted to make it yourself so while you were a little disappointed it was just a basic pet gift, you wanted to maybe put a little extra into it so maybe Changsheng will use it and Baizhu will think it’s cute! You crocheted a little pet pod/cave for her to hang out in (imagine this but a Jueyun Chili hehe) and it also has a little crocheted vine rope so the little Jueyun Chili cave can be hung from things, or even tied onto Baizhu’s apron/hold it like a purse! That way Changsheng doesn’t always have to drape across his shoulders/has somewhere to retreat! When you shyly showed Baizhu and Changsheng, he literally clapped, so did Qiqi lol (he usually does those tiny smiles… but this one was the brightest most genuine you’ve ever seen, even in game…!!) You find that Baizhu’s eyes look like that type of person’s eyes were they just look like “happy”, like there’s a little fond sparkle in his eye. Changsheng was all like “about time I got something instead of him! I’m basically an assistant too y’know! …thank you very much, my Emperor.” (if you’re NOT squimish of snake pics, pls look at this cute smile Changsheng would give)

Hydro Allogenes:

Barbara = …so even Barbara was a little hesitant at first, but came around to the idea after some convincing, and some encouragement (and showing her she was capable of it) but you basically ….may ….or may not have… found a loop hole for her being a catalyst? So, thru a lot of persuading Barbara to train with you and Childe (who also thought it was amusing to see such a young girl who’s literally a nun and a singer do this) you got Barbara to make water bombs! Like her circle of notes that float around her when healing, she sings and gestures and similar to her ult, (but like Childe’s E-skill it just switches between the two), the notes fly out and explode in the direction she sings/aims! You wanted to remind her of her old dream of being recognized, and wanting to help in battle in a more combat way, and besides, you’re sick of women getting regulated to the healing magical role in games/anime fantasy, so yeah. You and Childe are literally evilly giggling to each other in the background as Barbara sends quater notes and lines of music that explode (like how water can sharpen and cut things like Childe’s blades? Yeah he taught her that) so intensely that it cuts into the Pyro Lawlachurl, bringing it to its knees- Barbara accidentally cuts its head off as the finishing blow. While she gasps in a little fear, but mostly shock, Childe jumps up and down and starts cheering.

Mona = got sparkly eyes, nearly snatched the gift out of your hand, you made her some awesome earrings from the character banner wishes! All pretty ombre pink and blue they swirl and look so pretty framing Mona’s face, she only wears them on special occasions despite your claim of everyday use, they also help her figure out where the clearest view of the night sky each night but glowing brighter and brighter when she gets closer to seeing clearly, Mona is almost? weirdly envious?? for her past self that had to suffer thru all the inconvenient cloudy nights lmao

Childe = like anon said, a new pair of knit gloves, using the fur from the snow king boar! he’s amazed they never wear out now, and he totally uses them as an excuse to hold your hands all like “I just can’t get over how soft they are, feel them, you did amazing comrade! even better than some Snezhnayan shops!!”, exactly what you expect he’s leaning into your face and everything- 🙄

Xingqiu = an ao3 account you had a hard time with Xingqiu’s, afterall, he’s from a wealthier family, so he can get mostly what he wants, and you don’t wanna just get him another book… so you kidnapped him to Inazuma! (idk if this is canon, or happened in an event or smth I missed idfc) So, you also kidnapped Albedo for this trip, so that Xingqiu could actually see the impact his writing made overseas! While you intended for this trip to make Xingqiu feel better abt his writing, (and to help Albedo feel appreciated too, despite him not expressing much low self-esteem in his art, compliments heaped upon him def cant hurt, plus u can see him go pink too hehe) you also wanted to surprise him with a author book signing! If he was up for it, of course, which he “I absolutely, definitely, certainly am, my liege!” Kid’s practically hopping in place, as you get him all ready for his book signing (and not rlly Albedo bc he’s always fucking perfect, u dont have to do shit, even his messy hair looks nice 💀) …you also may or may not have given him some hair decorations (to help his asymmetrical cutting, not that it looks super bad, but for a change at least)

Yelan = …it’s official. You are intimidated. It’s only pretty hydro women and Ayato from here on, on your “Gift List”. Needless to say, like a few other allogenes, you wouldn’t know shit about this woman if you didn’t read her lore… it’s not a fine replacement, you don’t think, but with (lots of almond tofu, and osmanthus wine too) dev access to help you, you created another bracelet for Yelan. Inscribed (just like the heirlooms) inside simply says “You Are Not Alone”, with your eight star symbol following after (like a four star but with some flare, and also not the Jewish star lol), it glows an otherwordly gold, a contrast to the bright blues of the other bracelet. Its function is a geo shield, to protect Yelan and any teammates nearby when it’s activated, she can also leave the shielded area in one spot, so she can do her e-skill and still protect people. You’d just casually asked her to meet up with you one day in that teahouse you know she runs for intel, and when you presented her the bracelet, she held it delicately, saying nothing as she examined it, reading the inside. A small smile tugged her lips up, and she slips it on as she sips her tea, “…Well, I’ll have to show this to present this one to the family shrine, I think this more than makes up for the heirloom I failed to keep. A replacement from the Guide of Teyvat themselves… Thank you, my Emperor, for this handwrought gift you bestow upon a mortal such as me. …and thank you, for not leaving me alone.” Yelan bows a little in her seat, sharp blue eyes more softened than you’ve ever seen her, trained on yours. Her hands are together in that same praying motion that gives you the weirdest sense of deja vu…

Kokomi = so you don’t know much about her, as the it seems the character lore for Kokomi you can remember was… lacking, to say the least. Hoyo definitely plays favorites, BUT YOU DON’T!! At least when it comes to gift givining so everyone feels appreciated, you got a pretty book (handmade or bought) and got it/made it kinda small, like the size of the book in her idle animation, bc turns out that’s her diary of sorts. You know the priestess feels if she expresses any opinions that her people will just take her side, or her word as… well, a divine priestess, the weight of her title you suppose. She also keeps track of how many spoons she has! Like what things drain her, and what things make her feel better (big social interactions vs. reading a war treaty book by herself for example) So you made her a bullet journal! (here’s one of my favorite bullet journal youtubers, here’s a flipthru of her completed journal) you didn’t fill out the whole thing, just some example pages, to show her the possibilites! …you were kinda worried bc she turned away at first after delicately accepting it, and since it was just you two, she allowed herself turn back around and start excitedly chatting your ear off as she leaned in- and wow. Kokomi’s eyes really are, dreamy, like cotton candy… and they’re so much prettier when she smiles…

Ayato = …you know exactly what to do. Interrupting his busy schedule (and only actually taking one day out of it actually bother him so he can have the others as a secret vacation hehe) to come over to the Kamisato household and homemake some boba drinks for him, Ayaka, and Thoma to try! Mostly Ayato tho, you got all the syrups, the milks teas, the boba, and luckily, were able to get some help from Xiangling in experimenting in making… popping pearls! (they’re edible boba pearls that are actually filled with juice/syrup flavors and burst on your tounge when you barely bite them! they’ve very sweet, and Inazuma definitely didn’t have any different pearls other than tapioca, those squishy black pearls you see in his regular boba tea) …Ayato is literally holding your hand like he’s about to drop to one knee, this man is down bad for boba (and you) and… are those tears?! Is he tearing up?! “I can’t believe… THE Akitsu Mikami… blessed me, personally, with boba?? With NEW boba teas and pearls I’ve never even seen?! …Thank you, my beloved emperor!” Mans has quite literally gotten on his knees, but bc he’s so tall, he can still comfortably hold both your hands in his bigger gloved ones …Thoma is desperately trying to get Ayato up, Ayaka is getting onto her brother in the background.

Candace = it’s not exactly a traditional gift… but the reason Candace doesn’t wear a lot of her jewelry or finery is because of the hard job she has as a Guardian/in the desert, so you figured giving her more things she can’t even really wear wasn’t the way to go.. So instead! You gather a journal or advice from Ningguang, Keqing, Yelan, Zhongli, and all the others in the Qixing who were willing to help you, and kidnapped Ganyu for a sight seeing trip! (since u and Ganyu has that whole “in between two very different worlds” bond) You brought Ganyu because you know if anybody would be good at managing something/getting it started (like the music fest back for Lantern Rite… that I missed bc I dont understand how lantern rite works 😭😭😭 VIOLENTLY SOBS ITS BEEN 2 YEARS AND I HAVENT GOTTEN A SINGLE LANTERN RITE U GUYS-) it would be Ganyu herself! …and to also give her a break. See Aaru Village suffered from little to no economy before Candace finally negoiated with the elders to let Sumeru merchants travel into town/buy from them/sell to them, but she’s had a rough time keeping the old coots from being dicks about it since, …and it’s also hard to convince the younger generations to come back after many wanted to see the outside world because of this… So what better what to solve two birds with one stone?? GANYU!! And all the economy and business advice you could gather form Liyue! You hope that the village flourishing (and helping Candace cut down on shady merchants) would impress the older generation, yet also get more money in the town so they can dress it up a bit more (like fixing unsteady bridges, also u kidnapped Kaveh to help revitalize their cultural architecture buildings back into life/or help make the simple buildings just prettier) Now Ganyu and her are besties (Candace rlly needed another friend besides just Dehya alone to come out and see her in the desert) and the adepti was very willing to come visit her and Aaru Village to help the economy maintain its footing/run smoothly, and Kaveh also comes and works on it/checks on her/the village! …When you initially showed all the plans to Candace, saying it’ll impress the old by bringing back old designs/architecture plus interest/satisfy the younger generations to know their hometown is advancing and make it more appealing to come back to… The Guardian puts her shield and spear off to the side, she lowers her head, and greets you, bc u kinda just started rambling without saying hello- whoops- , “Salaam aleikum Qore, **I have already become the first Guardian to have been blessed by the gods, to receive this Vision was the only aid I could turn to in trying to help my village, my community… but to be blessed once more? I would never have dared to dream, let alone the Ogdoad Qore… I am grateful on behalf of myself, my village, and all of King Deshret’s people. …truly, I did not expect a gods eyes to turn favorably upon us since my ancestors’ time. Thank you, my Qore.” You just give her a smile back, she taught you the return phrase, so you hope it’s appropiate, “Waaleikum us salam.” :)

Nilou = This woman is consumed by dancing, other than keeping the peace (well, within reason apparently bc she’s okay with a coup-) but you’ve heard how hard it can be on dancers, how plenty of them have to have strong muscles to perform consistently. So, using adepti magic, you’ve enchanted this minakari you’ve painted (a type of metalwork that’s then painted by artists, on Earth countries like Iran, India, Afghanistan, Pakistan make them) like the teapot! It’s a small island that has a dance studio, and more importantly, a spa with hot springs, a sauna, and a room full of medical supplies dancers would need like salves, heating/cooling pads (using pyro/cryo), and space for stretches! Overall, just a place for her to get away from all the people and to heal her body up for the next performance, and after getting it all prepped/packed up with supplies, and showing it to Nilou… she literally had her hands over her mouth the whole walk around the rooms and showing her everything. Nilou had already been shocked you’d painted her a minakari piece, let alone all this! Like some others, she was quick to drop the formalities, and before you could even say “I hope you like it!” she was wrapping her arms around you and squeezing as tight as she could, tearing up and saying how happy she was that someone understood how hard dance can be on the body and how hard it can also be to take care of yourself, and how she can’t possibly show her gratitude- wait a minute. She’s pulled back and gripping you by the shoulders, not even bothering to wipe her eyes, before she swears to give you a dance every year with all the culmination of her work as she learns and makes newer and better dances!! <3

Cryo Allogenes:

Kaeya = horses so he’s actually a calvary captain- you actually wanted something that’d emphasize the handmade part of the gift, to really let Kaeya know somebody out there really cares about him, cares about him in the way that they’ll sit down and think of an idea and think of him, and then work for hours, sewing, drawing, crafting something just for him, to happy about. You make him a small, pocket sized photobook, and have a picture of every person who cares about him in all the slots, and near the end, from his last birthday where you gathered everybody together to celebrate, is a photo of Jean, Klee, Albedo, Sucrose, Venti, Rosaria, Noelle, Amber, even Eula, Diona, Mika, Barbara, and Mona came! But most importantly, you got Diluc to host it at Angel’s Share, and after some convincing, got him to get in the picture, you’re slightly off center, sandwiched by Kaeya and Diluc, where Kaeya is mid-laugh at the center, having just seen Diluc’s embarrassed face. It’s the last one in the mini album, and each photo has an even small message at the bottom, giving Kaeya a message from everybody, just for him. At the very end, with the group photo just before, is one of yourself and him posing together, you having taken him out roaming Mondstadt for the perfect picnic spot, just to give an excuse why you wanted a picture with him. And at the time, he found it a little suspicious, but was just flustered enough he let it slide. But now, opening and unfolding this tiny album, full of smiling friends and caring words, Kaeya gives a small, watery chuckle, you’ve left him a message too. “Take care of yourself Kaeya, because someone out there really cares about you. :) “

Rosaria = After seeing her “nun” outfit, there’s no doubt in your mind that Rosaria is yearning for clothes closer to her preferred aesthetic. So, using your knowledge of punk clothes and modern goth religious aesthetics, you’ve made some pieces for her to try! Some black pumps with metal crosses for heels, yes they’re sharp and this nice shawl with beads, and finally, a nice lacy skirt (no you did not make fucking lace, jesus christ, you’re not a miracle worker, despite the belief of some teyvatians-). All of which, wow, got Rosaria to give you an honest to god… smile. A full, genuine smile from Rosaria… yeah that made all your hard work worth it.

Eula = a book on common manners so Eula is actually great at cooking! So what better chaos to gift to her other than introducing her to Xiangling! Especially since you’ve given the young Liyuean cook recipes from your own world for her to try out, she’s been on a rampage of new things, and so what better new experience than a cook from an entirely different country? You also made a small book of recipes (look up how to make a zine book on youtube it’s actually kinda easy) from your world, different from Xiangling’s because you thought Eula would like different recipes than her. …So needless to say you were then being berated by two chefs for not sharing all the recipes lmao, tho that really just gave them reason to share recipes! Also any new spinoffs Xiangling’s already made from the initial ones you gave her, and now Eula not only graciously thanks you for the recipes, but also her new pen pal! :)

Diona = So, to prep for this gift, you forced converted the Cat’s Tail to a non-alcoholic cat cafe during the daytime, and only in the evenings do they start serving alcohol/cats put up. You also got onto Margaret for hiring a child to make alcohol, so instead have Diona work better hours, and only during the cafe time, so she’s not making alcoholic drinks either. (you also checked in on child labor laws in Mondstadt, and ran some paperwork by Jean just in case) But most importantly, you teach Diona all kinds of new drink recipes to make, like Shirley Temples, smoothies, etc. You even (once again, by getting help from Xiangling and Diluc) made a drink for hangovers, but more importantly, helped her make one called “Sober Up” which magically flushes out the alcohol out of someone’s body, so Diona can finally sneak people a drink that (while still cursed to be well-made since Diona made it) is a trip to drink lol, it’s like a blast of carbonation/electricity to the system and will typically make most people very nauseous (but since magic’s doing it, they dont need to throw up, they’re just sick feeling for an hour depending on how much they drank). Diona nearly cried after she saw the effect on hungover customers, and immediately started sneaking them into her father’s drinks, so now he’s leaning more toward sobriety most days, and after finding out what Diona did, started to talk to his daughter more. The next time you see her, and ask after her father, she just wraps her little arms around your waist, the highest she can reach, you hug her back.

Chongyun = for prep for this gift, you painstakingly, slowly convince Chongyun to accept more and more moments of warmth, like trying some spicy food that’s gone cold, but just away from people so he can be silly out in the Liyuean mountains instead, and to try and use exposure therapy to try and get him used to yin energy/warm/excitable things, rather than the inefficient method of just avoiding it all (as it doesn’t always work/deprives him of so many nice things!! >:[ ). So that way! You can finally! Take him to have fun!!! You haul him (and Xingqiu bc the more the merrier) to go swimming in Luhua Pools, go jumping off all the peaks from one to another paragliding, using cryo to surf down waterfalls, and most importantly, go to a hot springs at the end of the day! Chongyun was worried about them being too hot and activating his yang energy, but you all agreed he had been training to get used to it, so now he when he goes to try it, he just relaxes into the heat. He could feel the tug to get out and run in circles and get excited, but finally, Chongyun could just choose to sit and relax into the warmth with friends instead :)

Ganyu = if I had a nickel for every woman In teyvat who just needs a break I’d be fucking rich …Obviously, a day off. But an ACTUAL day off, with work regulated to others, and unless there’s an Osial level incident 2.0 (fuck his wife, you put Shenhe on duty to protect Liyue just in case) NO ONE. IS. TO. DISTURB. GANYU’S. FIRST. VACATION. IN. DECADES. You get her to show you the prettiest viewing spots in Liyue, and as you go, tell stories from your life on Earth, showing her pictures on your phone (from both the internet and ur photos), to show her how mortal you are on one hand, but then how different you are here, upgrading her weapons and artifacts, and most importantly, her gift, a Teyvat modified cellphone! Albedo and you had been working together for months to try and make something close enough to connect ur two worlds, while introducing him to adeptal magic and other powerful objects like primogems and wishes that you have to help power it, that way the only other person who might understand immediately how it feels to be (literally lol) caught between two worlds can always rely on each other! …Ganyu cried. Yep, tears down her cheeks and everything, “…I- I- don’t even- even know what to say? All this, telling me about your mortal world, helping me get stronger, and now- now this? I may not have much to give in return, other than my company and my bow… but should you ever need me, or even wish for me, I will hold you as steady as I hold together Liyue itself, my Emperor." Ganyu’s smile is so, so, so pretty, and all the prettier now that her soft blue hair and sweet eyes are framed by the sunset, like it’s her own gift back to you.

Qiqi = A backpack for herbs! You’ve made sure to stitch her name into it so in case she forgets it’s hers, she’ll just see her name again, and lots of little pockets so she can carry all the herbs/make deliveries, it looks a little like this but with a goat instead of cow, and some cocouts lmao, literally a “coco-goat” milk backpack! She is now the cutest person in Liyue, everyone agrees, nearly every single person who comes into Bubu Pharmacy gives Qiqi a compliment now, and Baizhu will periodically take a break just so he and Changsheng can coo at her lmao (Qiqi made sure she wrote down in her notebook in big letters next to your name “This person made my cocogoat backpack, remember to thank them during prayer times, and collect lots of fresh herbs for them”)

Shenhe = It’s kind of a lot, but really, at this point, you’ve done more for some of the others so this probably isn’t even scratching the surface of how big of a gift you can give, so why not. Going full steam ahead, you furnish her a house at the edge of town, so that she’s not overwhelmed by all the human traffic/people, but still close enough to make the friends she wants! When you first show her the dining/living room so plenty of guests can come over, and begin to tour her through it, the strongest woman you’ve probably ever known gently holds your shoulders and stops you from speaking, and turns you to face her, Shenhe’s eyes are sharp with observation as they roam your face, and then settle on your own wide eyes. Her eyes soften, and a small smile warms her usual stern face, (idc how tall you are, she’s taller, I fucking promise) as she leans down a little to look at you closely in the eyes, “Thank you for being a kind god. You did not have to be so generous to me, and yet here you are. If you ever feel like you’re an outsider in Teyvat, in any country or company you find yourself in, please, promise me you’ll come here. Come home to me?” ✨💘✨

Ayaka = You manage to get her away from her duties to take her out to Sumeru! Mostly so you can introduce her to Nilou, see her performance, and the flourishing arts that now fill Sumeru City’s streets, and more importantly, a dress you made so she could dance with Nilou + dance on stage, she wasn’t confident enough/didn’t want to dance for a crowd, so it’s just you three or just you two after awhile. Ayaka looks the happiest she’s been in awhile, more so than you ever saw in game, and it’s… almost like a breath of fresh air to see her away from what you felt was such an isolating environment, even after the Vision Hunt Decree was over. For her last dance, Ayaka does so alone, a little after the sun has set, so it’s all blue, and the stars are coming out, finally, you get to see an even better version of the dance she gave the traveler that night. She only opens her eyes at the end, to give you the giddiest smile you’ve ever seen on her, cheeks cute and plumped up bc she’s smiling so hard, and bows to you (Ayaka’s thanked you a million times, but she doesn’t need to, you can feel how happy she is just from this)

Mika = THE BOY!! One of the most boys to ever boy in all of Teyvat!! Your boy!!! :D What a boy, he nearly fainted when you handed over his gift one day, and you had to reach out and steady him, then hand him it again 😭 It’s similar to the Marauder’s Map, since you enchanted it (once again, what’s the point of dev access if I can’t make gifts for my skrunklies?) and since you don’t want it to end up in bad hands/get spyed on, it only shows itself with a phrase as well “I wish upon a golden star, to know this land as well as its player.” and it’ll show him everyone in public spaces in Mondstadt, not private homes, but like the plaza, the church, the Knights of Favonius, etc. He thanks you every single time he sees you for the map, as it’s both fascinating to him to have a proper well-drawn map of the city of Mondstadt (you copied it from the Teyvat in game map, but there were some buildings missing bc they’re more real here/more fleshed out as a irl city) but that just made Mika even happier bc he can go and map them out!! Literally can’t talk to you bc all he’s saying is “T-TH-TH-THANK-THANK YOU ALL FURST-!!!” before running away most of the time lol

Layla = An embroidered tiny pillow for her to easily clip onto her bag/fit in it, and take on the go with her! (this but the text just says “Sweet Dreams Layla ♡” ) that you’ve also added scent to, including some sleep inducing magics, so she’s guarenteed to sleep well and efficiently when she uses it! She blushed so hard you thought she was sick at first when you gave it to her, and she also used the pillow as a shield to hide her face as she thanked you lmao, and she made you a pillow in return! …even if she thinks it’s not as good as yours, both craft wise and function, Layla worked for weeks on it! …lol now ur the one hiding ur face behind a pillow (this but they’re all plants of sumeru)

Aloy = …if you had a nickel for every person you’ve provided with a house, you’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird it happened twice… Poor damn heroine just got dragged from one world to the next, just as the last one finally was at peace, now she’s here in Teyvat, where nothing’s familiar, the entire world is set up different, people are nicer and more open here, and there’s still threats looming on its horizon. Needless to say, she is tired, and misses her own homeworld. You really wish on her behalf that Hoyo hadn’t done a crossover, but since she’s here, you figure you might as well make it easier on her. You’ve made another teapot-like adeptal magic container, so she can have a place all to herself, and given her a ticket to your own, afterall, if anybody knows what’s its like to get yanked to another world, specifically Teyvat, it’d be the travelers and yourself, and sure enough as time goes one, Aloy becomes closer with you all, and begins to finally feel a sense of familiarity, she wraps an arm around your shoulders the first time she saw you tried to make her own personal teapot place emulate her homeworld. The widest grin you’ve seen on her face, she gives you a squeeze, “It’s just been one adventure after the next, and when we started out, you were just another stranger in a world I didn't understand. But after everything we've been through, I can say this for certain: My bow is yours, now and always. Thank you for the second home, my king.” Aloy says teasingly, laughing at the face you make.

Geo Allogenes:

Noelle = goddamn when will the busy women trend END these poor souls Motherfucker, you’re gift to Noelle was to knight the damn girl yourself. No, but you nearly talked Jean’s ear off for an hour, after gathering evidence (both from eyewitnesses, and Noelle herself, including other knights and Jean herself) about why the literal fuck Noelle wasn’t a Knight of Favonius yet, and why she should be. After genuinely shaking Jean’s nerves a little, she agreed, and finally, Noelle was going to knighted along with any other potential recruits during the testing season, (as people with high reputations, which, once again, using your god status for all its worth, could recommend new recruits) but most importantly… You gave her a 5-star claymore, which, you do have to somewhat work on yourself physically in teyvat now, but your dev access lets you cheat a little (like the cooking meter on cooking dishes, you’re the goddamn cooking god when hosting guests hehe) so you also are allowed to edit it, like adding a Geo-bonus to the weapon itself! When the ceremony for knighthood was going, and pretty much all of Mondstadt came to finally see Noelle get knighted, you made a fun show of walking out where you were hiding and replacing Jean, to knight Noelle yourself. She’s gone completely red in the face, and is starting to sway a little in her down on one knee position, as you gently place the blade on both shoulders, and grin at her as you turn and pull out the claymore for her. She actually does end up falling over, pale as a ghost, whoops-

Albedo = internet access so he can become a fucking god basically the alchemist is a hard guy to make a gift for, another person you’re a little afraid high-quality handmade gifts would impress him more… so you worked hard, and eventually you managed to make three big notebooks for Albedo, one with lined paper, one bulleted, and one blank for sketches (you did the title page a decent sketch of his pretty face smiling and “For Albedo” underneath, and while that one had a picture, the other two had just the words) and you also loaned him your cellphone for awhile, and suggested the idea of a laptop to make for himself, as he already managed to get you connected to Earth’s internet again, that’s part of the reason you customized/made him notebooks, so he could research from the internet and write down any notes he wanted! …wow. you really did it. after explained all this, and leaving him notes about the laptop idea as loose paper stuck inside one of them, you managed… to get Albedo to… smile. At you. Like a FULL smile, pretty lips, wide smile, and flushed cheeks-!! Albedo caught the notebooks you almost dropped.

Ningguang = what do you get the woman that has everything? so you started to think of things that’d make an experience, and after remembering her lore about her making a chess game, you decided a board game would be good! And if you make the little pieces, it’d be one of a kind too! (she’s the type that really loves handmade gifts/as long as you put effort in it doesnt matter how “bad” it looks to her, she’ll believe it’s still good <3) …So you made a Teyvat version of Monopoly. You figured the business part would be in her realm of expertise, and maybe she could use it to play with business associates or friends, and of course, she’s a competitive woman, so she thinks it’s great, and even asked permission that a marketable version be made (one that’s not nearly as nice quality as hers from you obviously)! Ningguang also treated you very well as a thank you for making it for her, a nice dinner at Liuli Pavilion, with a useful gift of places you haven’t seen in Teyvat yet bc it’s more expansive now that you’re physically here!! You may have gotten over-excited about it… and she may have chuckled at you… and you may have gotten flustered after she rested her pretty hand on yours for nearly half the dinner as you stuttered thru and explanation of the game…

Zhongli = …what do you get the man that has everything (ningguang problem 2.0)?? Well, since you thought of something for her that was an experience a little bit, yet also one of a kind, you figured the same path for the previous God of Wealth/literally invented money/etc. would do, plus he’d the type to deeply appreciate handmade gifts too! Using a few chunks of Light Realm Core, 3 Masterless Starglitter, 1 Intertwined Fate, and 1 Condensed Resin, to make a nigh indestructible Ginko leaf hair pin, which also to replace his last pin, which while not broken, was getting old and beat up (he’s immortal he doesn’ notice these things unless they’re like magically long lasting items lol). But in a few spots are these peach beads like this instead of all white beads, like on the ring both have symbols of longevity, and are usally associated with immortals, you wanted to make something that’d also hold memories (hence the resin, from leylines) so if the erosion ever took him, Zhongli could hold the pin and see some of his favorite memories played back (like misty glittering gold projections)! When you told him all this, the materials, (he obv knew the symbols) and the intentions, and then handed him the gift, his soft smile got bigger and bigger, until you could see him small fangs (❤️‍🔥) and then he turned around? You were confused, until he look over his shoulder, his eyes flashing gold in the sunlight, “Will you do me the honor, my Emperor?” OH- you unclip his old geo cor lapis one, and pull his hair up into more of a low bun, and put the hair piece in. the golden ginko leaves chime softly in the breeze. The old god turns back to you (idc how tall you are, he’s taller, and he had to crouch a little so you could reach lol) and gives you that blinding, beautiful smile again, the kind that makes his eyes look warm and happy. He takes your hand delicately, like you’re made of something fragile instead of stars and magic stronger than any he’s ever seen, “Truly, you bless me too generously, my Emperor. Thank you, for caring for a forgotten god like me, for caring about my heart.” …Zhongli presses a soft chaste kiss to your knuckles, right on the middle finger’s knuckle, his lips are warm and so, so soft, like they’re barely even there. <3

Yunjin = a bit difficult because she’s so theater focused in life, but you figure since she does solo shows a lot, she’ll still be the one to benefit the most from your gift, you made some floating plaustrite lanterns to help heft some platforms for more stage space/cool effects! (this but a little more detail, you painted some bamboo and a few simple adepti on them) Like putting props up there or lights to aim on actors, or even actors themselves since the floating rock is steady enough! Yunjin practically squealed (which immediately made every actor in the vicintity be like “YUNJIN!! UR VOICE WILL GO HOARSE STOP-”) and gather the whole troupe to thank you! But she especially told you that although she already intended for you to have front row seats every time you came to see her plays, she especially wanted to get some stories from your life, or even just your favorites from Earth for her to perform for you!! (she even suggested that one of the platforms could be your special seat, like an opera box seat lol)

Itto = you know that belt buckle he wears that’s just an Oni head? Yeah, you made him a second belt but with a onikabuto beetle as the buckle instead! (kinda like this) but a small enough it’s not inconvenient and poking his stomach, which you definitely got a Inazuman blacksmith to help out, you mostly painted it, and when you show Itto the belt, mans literally just wraps his buff arms around you like a hug but then just starts spinning you rapidly, and lets out the highest pitch “EEEEEEEEEEE-!!!” you’ve ever heard him make (and you’ve given him a few trinkets before, so this is a new record wow). No, it doesn’t matter to Itto how much you weigh, have you seen his abs?! He says as he’s still got you a little off the ground, and is now walking away with your limp body and wearing his new belt, “This, and a proper meal to thank you are the bare minimum, my wonderful emperor! Come on, the gang’s already there anyway, you gotta try my Granny Oni’s food, and I’ll make something too! My best, most special, sandwich, Way of the Strong!! Y’know, because if anybody deserves it, it’d be the strongest, and sweetest, you!!”

Gorou = since teyvat isn’t exactly the pinnacle of advanced civilization, though there are some advancements sure like the Kamera, there are still a fair amount of things that’re just left up to locals to produce and make using whatever process they’ve got, regardless of efficiency, and one of those is soap. Yep, soap. Earth is more advanced when it comes to beauty products, but also hygiene products, and Gorou has a hard time maintaining his tail he’s said when he’s stressed/overworked. So, you used some knowledge from your interdimensional smartphone (love u Albedo) to find a homemade recipe to make soap! (…for dogs, but you don’t know if he’d find it offensive… so you don’t tell him LMAO) and you even made it a cute shape (just so when you handed it over, he’d open it and of course, go all red all the way down his neck even, hehe, (he secretly liked it)

You towards all of Teyvat, except it's not even their birthdays (idk if u want it to be it can)

☆

PLEASE LET KNOW IF ANY LINKS/PICS ARE INACCURATE FOR A CULTURE/MISLABELED ETC.

Me after writing all this:  _」(´ཀ`」 ∠)__

… so I may have hyperfixated a little too hard on this one.

Did the OG asker want this? …probably not…

Did anyone ask for this?? …no.

…did I do it anyway….…yes.

…sorry?

(I promise I only thought to do this because there are so many characters left out in favor of the more popular ones for most SAGAU posts, and bc i never want any of my babes to feel any less loved than any others if I was actually there in Teyvat… you get… this mess.)

sorry!

☆

Safe Travels,

💀♒

☆MY BELOVEDS☆

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche

[seraphinitegames]

The Wayhaven Chronicles - Update 22/Dec/2023

Oh, making the switch back to Book Four after Holiday Magic has been quite the experience, hehe!

For a start, I have to keep remembering that Book Four is set at the end of Summer instead of winter and lingering descriptions of sparkling snow drifts is a bit out of place! :D

But I have enjoyed reading through the plan of where I was at. I was thinking on just getting stuck back into the writing full steam, but with Christmas break so close on the horizon, I ended up editing instead…the sensible option, lol.

I am really promising myself this time around that I am going to be so much more organized with editing! :D Anyone who has followed me for a while knows it’s not exactly my favourite part, as much as it’s the most important!

So, I resisted the urge to just write and focused on rewriting a couple of bits I knew I wanted adapting, as well as changing a couple of choice sets, then rereading and editing all of what I’ve already written.

It actually puts me in the perfect spot to come back to, which works out well because we’ll be going on Christmas break tomorrow!

We’re all a bit knackered after Holiday Magic’s release and jumping back to Book Four, so I think a rest is much needed…although I keep looking at Book Four’s plans and thinking how desperate I am to get to a certain part coming up, hehe!

Our Christmas break will be from 23rd December 2023 to 3rd January 2024.

That first week back in January we will be coming back into things slowly and getting ourselves organized for the year ahead, as we have some amazing things planned. Though my focus will be completely on Book Four and getting the first demo released!

We hope you all have the most magical festive season if you celebrate it, and if not then just a wonderful time ahead, and a sparkling New Year! It’s gonna be a good one in Wayhaven, hehe! ;D

[ghost-proofbaby]

if it were anyone else (e.m.)

warnings: strong allusions to depression, disordered eating/rough relationship with food, mentions of smoking, description of a sort of panic attack. very sad. hurt/comfort? not edited.

wc: 1.6k+

a/n: this is literally entirely self indulgent and written entirely after i sat and cried and thought "i wish i had eddie here right now to hold me". maybe in like thirty minutes tops. this is for me and only me. go figure lol. sorry. yeah. anyways.

if you relate, my askbox is always open, and i'm very sorry you've felt this way as well. i hope you all take care of yourselves. drink some water, call a friend. be kind to yourself.

“I’m worried about you.” 

Four words that always manage to strike a certain type of fear in your gut. You don’t know how to react as he says it, how he wants you to react. You can only stare blankly, you can only wish harder for the earth to swallow you whole.

“What do you mean?” you laugh nervously, following it with a hard swallow.

You’re playing dumb. You know it, he knows it. The tremor in your bones and your numb appendages know it, too. 

“You’re…” Eddie stalls, licking his lips, letting his eyes rake over you, “You’re getting bad again.” 

You’re quick to shake your head, forcing another hollow chuckle from your chest, “It’s not that bad. I’m fin-”

“You’re not fine.”

The look in his eyes could crack your spine if you stare too long. Wet eyes, a trembling bottom lip, worry lines etched into his forehead that you realize might be caused by you.

You’re causing him worry. The last thing you want to do, you’ve accomplished. You’re on a fast-track to becoming a burden – the first step is always acceptance. 

You’re still unsure of how he wants – no, needs you to react right now. This conversation is a landmine for both of you, and you hold every breath with every step as you try to navigate it. If you make one wrong step, it could cause an explosion that spares no survivors.

You don’t mind if it tears you apart limb by limb. You do mind if it hurts him. 

“How… How do you know that?” 

It’s not a sarcastic snipping or defensive deterrence. It’s an unfiltered response of genuineness – you want to know the signs, you want to know what has exposed the rot this time.

And then, maybe next time, you’ll be able to better shield it from him with this knowledge. 

“How could I not?” he takes a deep breath in through his nose, and you focus on the flare of his nostrils rather than any of the tears beginning to gather at his waterlines, “It’s been happening for a while now, though, hasn’t it?” 

Your throat is a cage, tight and restrictive and ringing with a bitter metallic taste in its tenseness. You can’t respond with words. You can only nod. 

He chooses to answer your question more properly now that you’ve admitted it, “You’re cold all the time again. You’re always sleeping too much or too little. You’re smoking again, running yourself into the ground. Picking up distractions like they’re going out of style.”

“Hey, they might be. We never know-” you cut yourself off when your eyes meet his. Now’s not the time for jokes, “Sorry. I… I know. I’m sorry.” 

He’s right. Fuck, he’s right. 

“I want to ask you something, and I need you to answer me honestly,” his own steps across these landmines are just as delicate, just as feathery light, as your own. You hear it in his tone, see it in his body language. You wish your body could sink into the mattress you’re sitting on the edge of as he crouches in front of you, warm palms connecting with your knees. Grounding you. Tethering you. Holding you back from that sinking you crave. “Are you… Sweetheart, are you okay?”

If anybody else had built up to such a stupid question, you would have laughed in their face. You would have shoved those warm palms right off of your skin and you would have thrown up those ice cold hands of your own, shouted obviously not. 

Obviously not. I’m not okay. I’m so far from okay, it’s a bit comical. I am drowning. I am treading in freezing cold waters and I am barely capable of keeping my head above the waves. My engine is fucked, my tank is empty. I don’t think I’d even know how to be ‘okay’ again if you did manage to pull this mangled body of mine from these depths and sat me down on safe, solid ground again. 

You can’t say any of this, though. Not because you don’t trust him, not because he would judge you. But because the moment he asks the question that should make you scoff, you let out a sob instead. Something like a muffled, broken wail that tears from deep within you. It had already been ready and poised, laying in wait for a perfect moment like this one to escape. 

His eyes aren’t the only glossy ones anymore. 

“I-” you start, breathing already stuttering and chest already constricting, “I- I-”

“Hey,” he palms smooth up your thighs, carrying their warmth with them, as if he were trying to spread it across you. As if he had heard your thoughts. As if he already knew all about those dark, treacherous, freezing waters you were stranded in. All you can do is spew out another cry, strangled as you tried to swallow it down before it entered the atmosphere between you two, “Hey.” 

You only notice the tears when you crumple forward and he meets you halfway. Those warm palms, those hands so capable of safety and promise, cup your cheeks and his thumbs make quick work of swiping away the salty streams. 

“Hey, baby, breathe for me,” his voice is tragically gentle, “Just one deep breath, okay?” 

To demonstrate, you watch his chest expand dramatically, his hands forcing you to keep your eyes on him. 

You can’t see through the bleariness. 

“C’mon, sweetness,” he encourages again, “One breath. Just one.” 

If it were anyone else, you’d turn into a fit of rage at the coddling. You’d break everything in sight. You’d scream until your already burning lungs finally collapsed as they’d been yearning to for so long. 

But it’s him. It’s just him, it’s just Eddie. 

His chest rises dramatically again, and this time, yours does as well, albeit through stifling hiccups. You’re dizzy from the lack of oxygen and the flood of emotion that was wrecking you. 

“There you go!” his voice rises ever so slightly, and when you flinch a bit at the sudden volume, he retracts, “Sorry, sorry. But that’s it, sweetheart. Another one, okay?” 

Another breath. Another sob. Another wave of all the pain you’ve been battling off. 

You’re cold all the time again. You’re always sleeping too much or too little. You’re smoking again, running yourself into the ground.

He was right and it fucking killed you. None of those are things you could ever shield him from. You didn’t have the heart to pull away those numb and icey fingertips every time he’d reach out for your hand, or try to cover the shivers that managed to rack your bones even in the middle of summer. The sleeping situation had been spiraling, a pendulum of sleepless nights that would end in a sleep so deep that you could have been mistaken for resting with the dead. Maybe the smoking you could have hid, especially when you’d been so boastful about quitting. 

You weren’t running yourself into the ground. You had already collapsed into the dirt, you had already joined the worms. You’d buried yourself alive, six feet under, and nothing could have stopped him from sniffing out that scent of decay on you. 

The death of a soul and mind. The death of the thing that had propelled you forward for so long. No amount of sweet perfume, or hour long scalding showers, or minty gum to occupy your mind rather than a proper meal, can erase that stench. 

You never could have shielded him. He always saw right through you. Always had, always would. 

“I’m sorry,” you end up crying out. 

You don’t know what you’re apologizing for, but you echo the words again. Over and over, on repeat, until he’s rising from the ground. Until he’s sat beside you. Until his arms are suddenly encasing you and you’re awarded a warmth you didn’t feel deserving of. 

He doesn’t smell like the decay you’d surrounded yourself with. He smells like slow waking in the morning, dreary and calm and at a reasonable time. He smells like warm baths that only relax your bones, and don’t have to blister your skin in the process. He smells like three meals a day, all comforting and all effortless and that never linger with a sense of regret.

He’s not decay, never even treading close to death. He’s home. He’s the promise that you could be okay. Even if it isn’t right now. 

“Don’t apologize,” he murmurs into the crown of your head, squeezing you tighter into his chest, not even blinking an eye at the patch of wetness you leave behind from where your cheeks bury against him, “Never apologize. Ever. Not with me, sweetheart. Keep the sorries. I don’t need them.” 

If it were anyone else, the holding would have suffocated you. But it’s him. It’s Eddie.

You don’t fight him when he pulls you fully into his lap, situating the two of you comfortably on that mattress. 

You don’t know how long you let him cradle you like that. How much of that time is spent filled with your cries, or how many breaths he gently urges you to take with him. He never once has to verbally say what you already know; he never once promises aloud that it’ll be okay. He doesn’t put that pressure on you, not yet. Not today. Not when he knows the journey to okay is still such a long one. 

“I’ve got you,” he whispers to you instead, “I’ve got you, now, sweetheart.” 

If it were anyone else, you wouldn’t believe them. 

But it’s him. It’s Eddie. 

And he’s got you, for now and for as long as you need.

[syd-djarin]

Sugar, Spice & Please Fuck Me Nice (neighbor!joel AU)

chapter one: the new neighbors

*18+ Minors DNI*

Word count: ~2000+

Warnings: FLUFF, nervous reader, a hint of masturbation (f & m), neighbor!joel needs a warning, eventual smut

reader has hair that she fidgets with, "grows warm" /"cheeks burning" but not necessarily blushing, with embarrassment - minor edits to make this more inclusive for my readers <3

Author/s Notes: this is my first fic, so ofc I had to write Joel, and I have a weakness for neighbor!Joel.

this will be a series and I'm so excited to share this :) this is super self-indulgent, making reader based off myself so shameless self-insert kinda? lol

a huge thank you & ily to my babe @katiexpunk for helping me make edits/bouncing ideas and encouraging me to dive into writing <3

Tags: no outbreak AU, neighbor!joel, reader is sweetie pie, age gap (reader is mid-late 20's, joel is late 30's-early 40's in this), dilf!joel, gratuitous descriptions of joel being strong & sexy, f & m masturbation, eventual smut, fluff

AUSTIN, TX  OCT 2005

You’ve lived in this neighborhood for the majority of your life, with the exception of your time in college.

Now that you’ve finished your undergrad, your parents, now retired and living in Maine, have graciously offered for you to stay in your childhood home. It wouldn’t be forever, you think, just until something comes through for you to use your degree on.

The neighborhood hasn’t changed that much through the years; some of the houses got renovations or additions, although many of the homes were the same that they have always been. Many of the people living in the cul-de-sac had known you since you were just a baby, and like to remind you of that more often than you’d like. 

Occasionally a home would go up for sale, and it just so happened that the house directly across the street from yours was one of them – a classic blue Ranch style home, well maintained, albeit a bit outdated, but full of potential. The previous owners lived there for nearly four decades, and the entire neighborhood is antsy to solve the mystery of who’ll move in next.  

You had assumed that the next tenants would be another nuclear family type – the stereotypical, American family - husband, wife, two kids, the works. Much to your surprise, a single father and his daughter were the succeeding residents of the house. A ruggedly handsome single father, at that. 

+++

Move in day came for your new neighbors and just like everyone else who resided here, you couldn’t help but to be nosy, curiosity getting the best of you. 

You discreetly parted your living room blinds, your curiosity at its peak, as your new neighbors began unloading the hefty boxes from their U-Haul and settling into their new abode. You even went to check the mail to get a closer peek, despite having already checked it earlier in the day when it arrived.

You couldn’t help but ogle at the broad-shouldered man lifting boxes as if they weigh nothing. His dark gray t-shirt clings to his biceps for dear life and you feel your pussy involuntarily throb every time he lifts up the bottom of it, bringing it to his forehead to wipe the sweat collecting there, each time revealing his soft tummy and the dark hair that trailed down from his belly button. 

You imagine yourself holding onto those brawny arms, while he pounds- 

Oh my god, get a grip, you internally chastise yourself. It’s been too long since you’ve gotten laid, defending yourself for conjuring up dirty fantasies of a man whose name you didn’t even know. 

You decided you’d go introduce yourself once it appeared that they’d finished unloading the moving truck, not wanting to disrupt or cause an intrusion. 

Baking being one of your love languages, you decide to make your new neighbors your grandma's famous cookies – snickerdoodles and chocolate chip. The recipes don’t call for much, but your grandma swears it’s the love that goes into them that makes them as good as they are. She had taught you to bake at a young age; ensuring you knew the fundamentals, techniques, and the importance of quality ingredients.  She also taught you that the best gift you could give is a dessert, one that requires your time and attention. 

Besides wanting to be a welcoming neighbor, baking provides you with a necessary distraction to your nefarious thoughts about the new neighborhood DILF. Were these cookies for him, sure, but it proved to be quite a successful deterrent from your naughty thoughts, allowing you the space to fully engross yourself in the task of making the dough, folding in the chocolate chips, rolling the batches into little balls, and spacing them out evenly on the tray before popping them in the oven. 

After a couple of hours, the cookies now cool, and the warm autumn sun begins to set. Your home smells of warm sugar, a nostalgia that brings a smile to your face. You peek out the window and notice the moving truck is now gone, and figure now was as good a time as any to introduce yourself. 

You neatly package the goodies into their designated container, draw on your oversized flannel and shoes, and begin your brief trek across the street. As you begin walking down your porch steps you’re hit with a wave of nervousness,  your stomach does backflips and your heart beats faster. Get it together. You take several deep breaths and hold onto the cookie container a little tighter before continuing on your mission. Why are you such a nervous wreck? I mean, it’s just some guy, you (unsuccessfully) try to reason with yourself. 

Reaching the front door, you knock– tap, tap, tap. A brief moment passes, and the door opens, leaving only the space of the doorframe between you and a young girl with wide, curious eyes and beautiful curly brown hair staring back at you.

“Hi there, I’m your neighbor across the street,” you say, gesturing towards your own home, “I wanted to introduce myself – I brought you some cookies, just a little something to say welcome to the neighborhood.”

“Cookies! Ah sweet, I love cookies - what kind?” she asks, not at all trying to hide her fairly obvious interest for them and less in you.

“There’s chocolate chip and a few snickerdoodles,” you reply, giving her an amused smile. 

Her father, the devastatingly handsome one, makes his way up behind her and stands in the doorframe, halfway inside and halfway onto the porch where you stand. He was a sight to behold up close: dark hair that had a loose curls and a beard, both lightly dusted with some grays, chocolate brown eyes you could drown in, a mustache that perched atop plush lips. 

He’s muscled in the shoulders and arms, which act as a nice compliment to his soft torso. He had the kind of  physique that came from hard labor, which only fuels your attraction to him more. 

If this were a cartoon, you were sure your eyes would be bulging out of their sockets in the shape of hearts. 

“Oh, uh–hi,” you say, perhaps an octave too loud. “I was telling your daughter here that I brought over some cookies, you know, as a welcome gift,” you pause, realizing you hadn’t even introduced yourself. “I’m your neighbor, I live just across the way,” you say, nodding to your house. You turn back to face him and fidget with your hair. Through a nervy smile, you manage to give him your name. 

“I’m Joel, this here’s Sarah,” he says, voice gruff and smooth at the same time. He holds out his hand to shake yours. You hope he wouldn’t notice how sweaty your hand is; maybe it’s the nerves, or the still-sticky Texan air, despite it being October. Probably both.  

His palm is warm; worn and calloused in some places, but firm and inviting. You couldn’t help but gawk at how small he made your hand feel in his. He releases your grip; bringing you out of your brief trance, and your eyes once again meet. 

“Welcome to the neighborhood, Joel and Sarah,” you smile and hold out the container of cookies for Joel to take. Before he can even reach up to grab them, Sarah already has her hands on them and has run back into the house, murmuring something that sounds like thanks as she does. 

He had just met you, but Joel couldn’t deny how much he likes hearing you saying his name in your gentle, nectarous voice. 

Your hands now empty, you nervously interlace your fingers and twirl your thumbs, unsure of what to say next. Joel’s eyes take note of the smudge of flour on your cheek – cute. He also notices the flour in the cleft of your cleavage, but he tries not to make that fact obvious. The flour between your breasts stares back at him, but he collects his composure, averting his gaze back to you.  He should point it out to you, he thinks, but you seem shy and he doesn’t want to embarrass you, or scare you away from wanting to come over again. 

“‘Preciate the cookies, sweetheart,” he says, voice low. His eyes stay glued to your face. You avert your eyes downwards and cross your arms, buckling under the weight of his gaze. You felt your cheeks and chest grow hot at his use of sweetheart. 

“I’m just – uh,” you trip over your words, nervous, “I’m just across the street if you need me,” you offer, giggling at the suggestive way that sounds, “you know, like a cup of sugar or anything like that,” you add.

Joel nods in reply, edges of his mouth coming up in a smirk as if to acknowledge your kindness, being careful not to full on grin in amusement of his apparent effect on you. 

“Same to you,” he says before closing the door, perhaps eyeing you a moment too long as you walk away. He turns to enter the house, only to find Sarah staring at him, cookie in hand, and a knowing grin on her face.

“Why didn’t you tell her she had flour all over herself?” she asks, teasing, like she could already tell he was embarrassed to admit the truth. 

“Did she? Hmm, didn’t seem to notice,” he says, trying to hide the lie behind a weak cough, before walking away, cheeks obviously flushed. 

Back in the safety of your own home, you come to a still with your hand pressing on the door, reeling from your interaction with Joel. You were wired up, buzzing with arousal and nerves. 

And God, the way he called you sweetheart. 

You replay the moment over and over in your head, not wanting to forget his Texan twang or the way he looked at you when he said it. You could have died, right then and there. You let your mind run wild, thinking of all the things you wanted to do with him, what you wanted to do to him. 

Needing to relieve the throbbing ache in between your legs, you decide a shower is in order. When stepping into your bathroom, you catch yourself in the mirror. You were mortified at the discovery of the flour on your face and chest. You had been so engrossed with baking the cookies and too anxious about taking them over to Joel’s that you failed to give yourself a once-over in the mirror before heading out the door. The arousal you felt temporarily held precedent, you’d process your embarrassment later. 

You step into the steamy shower and touch yourself, thinking of Joel. You shove two fingers inside your pussy, imagining they were Joel’s long, thick, dexterous fingers. 

Little did you know Joel was having his own feelings about your little introduction. 

Several of his new neighbors come to introduce themselves in the coming days, under the guise of welcoming him and his daughter, but in reality, they wanted to get scoop on who they were. Where had they moved from, what prompted the move, we’re they planning on staying short-term, what did he do for a living, was there a Mrs. Joel Miller? And once they found out he was a contractor, there were a whole other set of questions of “would you mind taking a look at my ____”. 

He liked the neighborhood, and while the people were nice and seemingly mean well, Joel begins to feel irritation at the consistently prying questions, annoyed that people felt like they were entitled answers to begin with. 

But you. 

He was not expecting you. 

Beautiful, endearing, kind eyes, a smile he thought could end wars. You had been sweet and respectful, and didn't appear to have ulterior motives. It made his heart palpitate and sent blood rushing somewhere he knew it shouldn’t. You were young, too young and sweet, too sweet for a man like him. 

Then he saw how you stared at his hands, grew warm and shy when his gaze had lingered too long on you. 

That night, with Sarah tucked into bed, he grabs one of the snickerdoodle cookies, Sarah insisting that he save all of the chocolate chip ones for her, but he doesn’t mind; snickerdoodles are his favorite. 

He bites into the soft cookie, his eyes fluttering shut as he does, an involuntary reaction to the sweet, perfectly soft texture. He lets out a moan, the kind that is elicited when tasting something delicious. 

And the fact that you made them? The thought sends blood straight to his dick. 

Joel, in inner turmoil, was trying to resist the temptation to touch himself to the thought of you. God, if your cookies were this good, so sweet and fluffy, how good would you taste. 

The thought consumes him, the temptation too strong. 

He polishes off more than three of the cookies, before heading to shower. That night he takes his cock in his fist to the thought of you, and your stupidly delicious fucking cookies. 

Joel was a gentleman, sure, but he was also a man. 

And the best way to get to a man’s heart? 

Through his stomach. 

THE END

[withleeknow]

wishful thinking. (04)

chapter four: spring daffodils

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; a creepy dude but nothing happens, err this chapter is pretty mild? idk, not very edited (i apologize, i just live like this lol) word count: 3.5k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / series masterpost / taglist

It was bittersweet You were like a dream And I was your girl on the passenger seat Right next to you We were unstoppable We thought we had it all

I’d Do It Again - Violette Wautier

The first thing you feel when you wake up is Minho’s arms, wrapped tightly around you. Your face in the crook of his neck, your legs tangled up together. It’s as though this is your millionth morning waking up with him.

He’s still fast asleep, soft puffs of air escaping his lips. So peaceful, so ethereal with the light from outside your window shining on his side profile.

He looks like an angel, absolutely unreal, that you can’t help but admire him. How the playful sunshine kisses his sculpted nose, caresses his cheeks, its particles of light lingering on his pink and pouty lips. Every feature, every single detail of his face, beautiful. Sharp, stunning, flawless. The universe really took its time with him.

You'd say that this is a pretty objective opinion. Ask anyone and they would concur. You don’t think you could ever get tired of looking at Minho.

There’s a sudden urge that grows in you - the selfish need to be the sun itself. You want to be the sun, to be the reason why there’s warmth and light in his life, to give him nothing but good things, nothing less than what he deserves.

Your axis shifts. It’s overwhelming just how much you want to be good for him.

Minho is supposed to be your friend.

You don’t think you’re supposed to feel this way about your friend.

The beautiful boy next to you stirs, and you instantly shut your eyes. You wait as he stretches a bit, then he holds you tighter, closer, the proximity making tears well up behind your closed eyelids. It’s so nice just being in his arms like this. So wonderful and so right.

You feel loved, even if it may not be the kind of love that you’ve been searching for.

A gentle hand strokes your hair, and just that simple action is enough to make you melt, a tightness tugging at your heartstrings all of a sudden.

If Minho was a season, he would be spring. Beautiful and heavenly spring. Some may argue that it can’t possibly be the case because people often view him as callous and mean, and you hate it every time anyone speaks about him that way. They don’t know him like you do, and he’s been nothing but warm and kind to you for as long as you’ve known him.

To be more precise, Minho would be the onset of spring, when the brutal and lonely winter eventually has to make way for the beginning of a new season. It’s a subtle transition, a gentle inauguration of warmth where the earth welcomes life into its open arms again. When daylight starts to last longer and snow begins to melt in between cobblestone cracks. When buds on trees start growing into their luscious green coat and flowers slowly burst through their roof of soil to bring forth colors for spring. Everything is soft and delicate, easy to overlook if you don’t pay close attention.

That’s what Minho is to you - a new beginning. Calming, welcoming, steady.

You want to snuggle further into the heat of his body but you’re afraid it might blow your cover, so you keep on staying still. He’s close, closer than you two have ever been when you aren't having sex, but it’s not enough. If it was possible, you would wrap you and him up in your own little bubble where the concept of time is foreign and you could stay here forever. You wouldn’t have to go back to your boring routine and deal with the stresses that you’ve been carrying all your life.

It’s like a switch has been flipped. You want more. It’s a fleeting thought, but the imprint it leaves behind isn’t ephemeral at all.

A simple life with Minho and the spring. That doesn’t sound too bad.

Min: wyd tomorrow afternoon? You: i have to go buy paint after class. Why? Min: can i come with :(  You: u wanna go look at paint with me for 2 hrs? Min: no lol Min: i cleared my whole afternoon because kim seungmin asked me to go suit shopping with him for his sister’s wedding but he’s ditching me, so i have no idea what to do Min: you’re my last option You: thanks. i’m v flattered You: hyunjin refused to entertain you? Min: don’t like him You: 🙄 You: chan? changbin? jisung? jeongin? lix? there’s no way they’re ALL busy Min: i didn’t ask. don’t like them either You: so i’m not your LAST option then Min: no. but you’re the only one i’d rather hang out with You: you’re weird Min: so tomorrow? You: the store is a bit far away though Min: i can take you. i’ll borrow chan’s car

You assume that Minho would pick you up right after your class finishes since he told you that he was free all day, but you still end up having to wait for him while wandering aimlessly around campus, the messages that you sent him sitting in your phone delivered but not read.

He appears about twenty minutes later than you thought he would, rolling up in Chan’s new car that he just got a couple months ago. You get into the vehicle with an unimpressed look on your face, clicking the seatbelt into place before you turn to him in the driver's seat.

“Punctual,” you comment pointedly.

“Sorry. I went to that cafe you like but there was a line.”

“Oh,” you say, your earlier annoyance waning quickly when you notice the cup holders between the two of you. “Why did you go all the way there just for shitty matcha lattes? We could’ve just gone to the campus cafe for that.”

Minho grabs a paper bag from the backseat before he places it neatly in your lap like a little present. "But the campus cafe doesn’t have those overpriced croissants that you’re always raving about."

You stare at the baked good in your lap - an almond croissant filled with cream cheese and strawberries. “Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” you say. “But thank you.”

Minho looks at you. “You forgot to eat lunch again, didn’t you?”

“How’d you know?”

“Because you’re looking at that thing like you’re deeply in love with it.”

You roll your eyes before plucking a cream cheese-covered strawberry from the bag and taking a bite, dramatically throwing your head back as you sigh in exasperation, “I might be deeply in love with you right now.”

When you finish the strawberry, you turn to look at Minho, only to find him already staring at you with his sharp eyes. He holds your gaze for a few seconds, then brings a hand up to brush away a dot of cream cheese off the corner of your mouth. You half expect him to put the finger in his mouth like hot fictional characters tend to do, and yet, your cheeks still catch fire when Minho meets your expectation.

He catches sight of your flush but doesn’t throw you a teasing comment or anything of the likes. Instead, he just chuckles - a bit endeared if you can say so yourself - and starts the car.

Minho is gracious enough to let you choose the music for the drive and in turn, you offer him the last piece of your cherished croissant (everyone knows the last bite is the best bite), plopping the pastry into his mouth while he keeps his hands on the wheel, only for him to complain that it has too much cream.

When you get to the art supply store, Minho picks up a basket by the door. The store isn’t that big, but they have the best selection out of all the other places you’ve been. Hyunjin keeps telling you to come to the store that he frequents - the one that sells those fancy watercolors that you don’t really need - but you’ve been going here for ages. You used to live nearby so it was more convenient, but this is still your go-to spot even after you moved closer to campus. The sense of familiarity associated with this quaint store isn’t something you’re quite ready to let go of yet.

You peruse the aisles alongside Minho, who dutifully carries the basket for all of your things without you even asking. He doesn’t really try to make conversation while you study the colors, which is a little uncharacteristic but you don’t think much about it. He just quietly watches you, and you like how even the silence is comfortable between the two of you.

After a while, he asks, “Do you have a theme in mind?”

You do, but you think it’s a little silly to say out loud so you don’t. Although you know Minho would never make you feel small or diminish your ideas, it’s not something that you’re really keen on sharing at the moment.

“Kind of,” you say. “It’s not fully fleshed out yet. I know what colors I want to go for though.”

You meticulously pick out the acrylics you want for your painting, mostly dark and dull tones. You have a vision of what you want to achieve on the canvas, and you spend a decent chunk of time deciding on your blues, grays and russets.

A somber scene, anyone can tell.

For the finishing touch, you pick up two tubes of yellow paint, trying to decide between Golden Poppy or Spring Daffodil. Either one is a stark contrast to the melancholic feel you were going for before.

Turning to face Minho, you raise your hands. “Which one?”

He stares at the acrylics for a minute in silence. “They’re yellow,” he concludes.

“Duh. But which shade do you like better?”

“They look exactly the same.”

You purse your lips, then hold your hands closer to his face as if it’ll help. "No, look. This one is slightly lighter but muted. This one is more vibrant but the shade is deeper."

Minho hums as if in thought. You wonder if he actually sees the differences, but he probably doesn’t. Hyunjin is usually the only person in your friend group whom you can talk to about these things since he’s the only other art major of the bunch.

“Is yellow supposed to be happy?”

Hope, is what you want to say. You want it to end on a lighter, brighter note. Happy feels too unattainable even if it’s only ideals and colors on canvas.

But maybe sometimes being hopeful is the same as being happy. Maybe for some, that’s all you can really ask for.

In spite of it all, isn’t hope the only thing that persists?

“Sure,” you say, “yellow is happy.”

After a brief moment, Minho plucks the tube in your left hand and puts it in the basket. Spring Daffodil it is.

It’s kind of a nice thought, isn’t it? That Minho had a helping hand in your work. That there’s a little bit of him in your art.

You go to the cash register with a basket full of goodies, only to realize that you don’t actually have anything on you.

“Ah, crap,” you mutter, turning to Minho. “My wallet is in my bag. In the car.”

“I’ll get it,” Minho says, handing you the basket. “Be right back.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll just check something out over there.”

And then he’s off, the bell by the door ringing to announce his temporary departure. You wander over to a shelf in the corner where they store their brushes. There’s a filbert brush that you’ve been eyeing for a while.

You go over the selection, debating whether or not you should replace some of the brushes you have at home. Most of them are worn out; they’ve been with you for ages now.

You don’t notice the second chime of the bell, too immersed in studying the bristles, envisioning the strokes they would create on canvas.

You don’t pay attention to a voice talking to you either. That is, until a shoulder nudges yours and you find yourself looking up at an unfamiliar face.

Taking a step away from the stranger, you say, “Can I help you?”

The man doesn’t look like he’s your age, but he doesn’t look that much older either. Probably just by a few years. “I was just saying that filbert’s a good choice,” he chuckles.

“Oh, yeah.” You give him a small smile. “It’s a good brush.”

“Great for blending. It really makes the strokes stand out, y’know.”

“Mhmm. So I’ve heard.”

Glancing at the contents of your basket, he asks, “Are you working on a project?”

“Just something for a class.”

He hums in acknowledgment, to which you give him a nod in return. The conversation is short and awkward, as one can probably expect when they try to make small talk with a stranger over something as random as a paintbrush.

And especially when the recipient of said small talk is you, who’s been described on multiple occasions as “unapproachable” and “intimidating”.

That, and the fact that you suffer from a major case of resting bitch face and you’re not really keen on talking to strangers when you it’s not absolutely necessary.

You move to the next aisle, going back to look at the selection of colors from which you’ve already taken your pick earlier with Minho. You don’t need a second look, but it just feels a little weird to still be standing in the same corner with the man.

You think that it would be the end of your interaction, but then he moves along with you. He follows you as you walk, before soon obliterating any space between your body as he strides next to you, your arms brushing one another.

“I’ve actually noticed you in here a few times,” he says.

“Sorry?”

“I’ve seen you before.” This time, he tells you with a smile. “I just never worked up the courage to talk to you until today.”

It’s not a bad smile, nothing Joker-esque but the way he says it with practically no space at all between the two of you makes you a little squeamish.

You wonder what’s taking Minho so long.

“Oh,” you say, not really sure how else to respond, trying to shuffle away from him but there’s not much room to accommodate the both of you. “That’s... uhm, actually, could you-”

He gets the hint, but it’s not like you were trying to hide the discomfort on your face. He takes a couple of small steps back, which doesn’t really count as stepping out of your personal space but it’s a little better than before.

“Sorry, I hope I’m not coming on too strongly. You’re just... I think you’re really pretty,” he says with a small laugh, the kind that would be charming if real life was a romcom and you two were the main characters. “Are you here by yourself?”

“Thank you... uhm, I’m... flattered but I’m here with my boyfriend today.”

You can tell that the mention of a significant other throws him off, because he doesn’t exactly do a very good job at concealing his surprise.

“You usually go alone, though.”

Oh...?

Right. Definitely not a romcom.

You can’t help the slight frown that tugs on your brows upon hearing those words. If you were somewhat irritated before by a random stranger who can’t really take a hint, then that feeling is rapidly melting away to make space for a sense of unease that crawls up the back of your neck like a rogue spider.

You can normally handle mildly persistent guys who keep insisting on chatting you up, but you’ve never actually had someone drop a creepy line on you before.

In a place that you’ve frequented for years now.

You’re suddenly wildly grateful that Minho demanded to tag along today.

“My boyfriend is just getting some stuff from the car,” you settle on telling the man. “He’ll be right back.”

“Maybe I can keep you company while you wait.”

“Thank you but that’s not necessary.”

“Not even for a few minutes?”

“You really don’t have to do that. My boyfriend will be back any-”

Then you’re being pulled to the side, the abruptness of the moment briefly disorienting you that you almost lose your balance if not for the arm around your shoulder keeping you steady.

You glance up with widened eyes, though they soften after a couple seconds as relief washes over you. Minho leans down to kiss you before you can say anything; the only sound that escapes you is a surprised Oh! which he muffles with his lips.

“Sorry I took so long, baby,” he says once he pulls away. “My mom called to ask if we’re still coming over this weekend. You’re still up for Sunday, right?”

“Hmm?” You try to ignore the tingle in your lips and the spike in your heart rate, but you quickly blame it on the suddenness of his actions. “Yeah... yeah, Sunday’s good.”

Minho smiles softly, his hand squeezing your shoulder comfortingly pressing another kiss to your cheek - for further emphasis, you suppose - before he turns his attention elsewhere.

His expression changes completely. Instead of a cute smile, his mouth is pressed into a hard line, his gaze a cold glare. “Can we help you?”

The man doesn’t instantly back off like you thought he would - Minho can be quite scary when he wants to be - but glances between you and Minho like he’s assessing the situation.

The kiss, the arm around your shoulder, the deadly look in Minho’s eyes, plus your friend has been working out more often lately and it shows.

The unwanted stranger eventually raises a conceding hand. “Nope, all good. Sorry for bothering you,” he says, plastering that smile on his face again. “Have a good day.”

Minho takes the basket from your hand and steers you away. He keeps a hand on your back while you pay and collect your supplies at the counter. Basket duty turns into carrying the bag of acrylics for you even after you insist on doing it yourself.

Once you’re in the car, you turn to him with a grateful smile. “Thanks for the save.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says. “I’m sorry though. I was getting your bag and Hyunjin called screaming about something. I didn’t know you were stuck with a weirdo. What did he say?”

“I’ve never seen him before but he said he’s seen me around. He kept trying to talk me even after I said I had a boyfriend. And get this, he knows that I usually come here alone. I don’t know, I’m a little grossed out.”

Minho frowns. When he says your name, it’s full of concern. “He knows that you usually go alone? That’s creepy.”

“I know!” Leaning against the headrest, you sigh, “Ugh, this is where I always go to get my supplies.”

“Why don’t you just go to the place that Hyunjin goes? It’s close to campus.”

“But everything’s so overpriced there. Besides, they have the best selection here. It’s my go-to.’

He goes quiet then, and speaks up after a moment of contemplation. “Tell me whenever you need to go. I’ll come with you.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.” There must be incredulousness written all over your face, but his expression returns to neutral, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. You know all of your friends are quite protective, but still.

“You’re not asking me. I’m offering.”

“It’s not like you’re free all the time.”

Minho hums, acknowledging your point because it’s true. He has a life of his own and shit that he has to deal with; he can’t be around to babysit you 24/7. Not that you even need him to anyway. “If I can’t go then I’ll make sure Hyunjin goes with you. Or Jisung. Any one of the guys.”

“It’s not that big a deal.” You look at Minho, to which he just stares back. “I know I said today was weird but I’m not that helpless.”

“I know you’re not helpless.” He holds your gaze, briefly wondering if he has offended you somehow. “If you won’t do it for your sake, will you at least do it for mine? I don’t want you to be in a bad situation when I can help make it better for you.”

The tone he uses to deliver his words doesn’t really leave you any room to argue. You would probably just kinda look like an asshole to brush him off when all he genuinely wants is to ensure that you’re safe.

Eventually, you only purse your lips and nod, which seems to appease Minho for now. Of course you’re thankful that you have good people by your side. If the roles were reversed and this happened to any of your friends, you would be all up in arms for them too.

But way beyond that appreciation is something that you can’t quite put your finger on. It’s similar to the feeling you got the first morning you woke up next to him. A fluttering sensation in your chest, warmly touched by how much he cares, how much he’s willing to do for you.

It’s simply absurd to you that anyone would think Minho is cold.

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all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 15.02.2024]

[toomuchracket]

angsty part two hmm. well maybe it can have something to do with whatever the heck was going on at electric umbrella studios. maybe girly is there helping out bea (we can pretend maybe she’s doing stuff with jack and not matty for ease of everyone’s heart lmao) then there is that little listening party or whatever where taylor and matty are seen together but maybe girly’s heart couldnt stand to stick around for very long so she leaves early. maybe in this dream matty pulls his head out of his ass and decides he will do anything and be anything that girly wants him to be because this thing with taylor is not doing it for him either

ok! edited the request slightly. and it doesn't have a happy ending because actually i'm a messy bitch who lives for drama. please note: THIS ISN'T ACTUALLY CANON IN THE D WORD UNIVERSE IT'S JUST A COLLECTIVE NIGHTMARE. ok. lol. happy new year. enjoy <3

gone four weeks, part 2 (d word matty x reader angst)

“oh my god, hi! you came! oh, thank you so much!” taylor pulls you into a hug, which you reciprocate warmly; you've no problem with her, after all. “and you look amazing! your hair! those shoes! it's a new look for you. i like it.”

you smile. “thank you, i just fancied a bit of a change. and thank you for inviting me! i was so touched when i got your message.”

“matty said it was your favourite of my albums - i couldn't not have you here.”

what the fuck?

“oh, he did?” you try to keep your face and voice steady. “that was nice of him.”

taylor nods. “it was the first thing he said when i first wondered if anyone would even come to a 1989 listening party - you would, if you were around. thank god margaret ran into you last week and told me you were!”

you murmur a “yeah”, in response, too busy reeling from the sudden emotional pain in your heart to reply properly. blinking a couple of times, you look back towards the front door of the studio to see more people coming in. “taylor, i'll catch up with you later, yeah? let you speak to… oh my god, i'm at the same party as kendrick lamar? fucking hell.”

she laughs, squeezing your arm. “no worries, babe. i'll see you later! matty’s… somewhere, if you want to catch up with him”.

not bloody likely. “cool. see you!”

you smile politely at kendrick, who returns it (!!), before heading off into the busy room. there are people you recognise absolutely everywhere you turn, but nobody you really know, more just celebrities you'd be worried about embarrassing yourself in front of. no sign of jack, or margaret, or even matty - not that you particularly want to see him, to be honest, but a familiar face (one not from your tv screen, that is) would definitely calm you down.

of course, so would a cigarette.

pulling your cigs and lighter from your bag, you nudge the side door open with your hip and step out into the alleyway and still-warm evening air. and then, almost immediately, you wish you hadn't. because, standing with his back to you - although that makes no difference, you'd know those back muscles and that head of hair anywhere - is matty, talking to jack and margaret, all three of them smoking.

fuck. this was an awful idea. but you can't turn back to go inside now, because jack's clocked you; he’s beaming, waving at you, shouting “sprout! get over here and smoke with us!”

despite yourself, you smile, wandering over and allowing yourself to be enveloped in a hug from the man and his fiancée. “wish you'd stop bloody calling me that, jack.”

“never,” jack replies, kissing your head as he releases you into margaret's arms. “you're sprout, and he's cabbage.”

“whatever - hi, mags,” you kiss your friend's cheek as she breaks apart and settles her arm around your waist, before reluctantly meeting your ex's gaze. you're irritated to see that he looks good. like, really good, something-twinging-between-your-legs good. get a grip! “matthew.”

“alright?” matty smiles at you, but it doesn't reach his eyes. “almost didn't recognise you. hair's shorter.”

you shrug. “wanted something different.”

“sounds like you.”

the snide comment slices through you. unlike last time, though, you don't tear up; you fire right back at him. “well, i'm at an age where i can afford to experiment.”

matty frowns, while jack and margaret burst into giggles. the latter kisses the side of your head. “god, you’re funny. i can't believe you were in the city all this time and you didn't tell us! i miss hanging out with you.”

“i was busy,” you place a cigarette between your lips, shaking hands trying and failing to successfully operate the lighter. matty wordlessly steps forward and does it for you - your cheeks burn as much as the cig does. “thank you.”

“don't,” matty waves it off, taking a long drag of his own cig before looking at you again. “so. you haven't been back home?”

“not since the last time you saw me,” you ash the cig, pointedly looking down at the ground. “there hasn't been any work for me to do, so there's nothing keeping me there, really.”

matty scoffs. “typical, you prioritising your job.”

“well, it's what you pay me for. you should be happy i care so much about my career, really, matty,” you smile, saccharine as summer peaches, before turning to jack and margaret. “anyway, how's wedding planning going?”

jack breaks into an excited soliloquy that you can only half focus on, hoping you're timing the oohing and aahing and awwing at his fiancée’s enthusiastic interjections right; most of your attention, you hate to say, is focused on the man opposite you, clearly - to you, at least - upset. the familiar guilt begins to gnaw at your ribcage, and you're thankful when margaret checks her watch and begins to usher you back inside.

matty, though, has other ideas. he touches your elbow, so lightly you barely feel it, and yet your body reacts as if he's punched you. “can i talk to you alone for a minute?”

panicked, you turn towards jack, who nods. “you still have a few minutes. i just need to go in to set up. see you in there!”

shit.

once you're alone with your ex, you move to brace yourself against the wall, folding your arms. “what?”

“why didn't you tell me you were in new york?”

“why would i?”

“well,” matty's voice falters; when he speaks again, it's almost a whisper. “i don't know. maybe we could've, like, gone for a drink. or you could've come down here to hang out.”

“again, why would i?” you tilt your head. “no offence, mate, but hanging out with my ex and his new girlfriend isn't exactly my idea of a fun time. or just hanging out with my ex full stop.”

“thanks for that,” matty grimaces.

you sigh. “look, i know you well enough to be able to read your cryptic fucking subtext. i've been alright, matty, i really have. i've been with friends.”

“you don't have any friends in new york.”

“and how the fuck would you know that? honest to fucking god,” you snap. “i didn't tell you everything about me…”

“i know that well enough.”

“...but, if you must know, one of my friends from home opened an exhibition in tribeca. orla.”

matty nods. “we went to her london opening together before… us, didn't we?”

the memory feels distant, as if from another life, but it hurts all the same. “yeah.”

“i would've liked to have gone to her show here, too. she's good.”

you smile genuinely for the first time, pride for your friend stronger than the fucked up pot of feelings you have towards matty. “it was really something. i helped set it up, actually. was fun.”

“really?” matty laughs; something cracks inside you when he does. “yeah, i can see you being good at that, actually.”

you look at the ground, still smiling, but less now. “been thinking about switching to it full-time. curation and stuff.”

“oh,” matty sounds crestfallen. you peek up at him to find that he looks it, too. “well… if that's what you want to do, i s'pose you should look into it,” he checks the time on his phone, while your heart sinks impossibly deeper. “it's starting soon. i'll head in now, and then if you-”

“wait thirty seconds before i follow you? yeah, i know the drill,” you smile lifelessly. “least you won't have to worry about that if i get a new job, yeah? you'll likely never have to see me again, let alone risk being seen with me.”

“i- anyway,” matty clears his throat, turning quickly away from you. “i should go.”

“okay,” the door closes behind him before you can even get the second syllable out, and there you are, alone again, in the suddenly-cold night air. you shakily exhale your cigarette for the last time, stubbing it out on the wall and stamping the butt with your high heel for good measure; once no trace of the flame remains, you go back inside.

for the rest of the night, part of you wishes you hadn't bothered. while hearing your favourite album is truly, genuinely brilliant, the experience is marred somewhat by your ex sitting in the seat opposite yours with taylor's head on his shoulder: you can't quite lipsync along to this love or clean or you are in love without your lips beginning to tremble, the new song now that we don't talk genuinely makes you nauseous when you figure out the lyrics, and actually hearing matty's voice on a vault track is painful beyond words.

but still, you clap, you fake smiles, you cheer for taylor and jack and the work they've put into the production. it's not easy, though, and you're thankful for the distraction when your phone buzzes with an invitation while you're alone at the drinks table grabbing another champagne.

“now i know you're not about to entertain a man who sent you an i miss you, come over text,” taylor’s voice sounds scandalised from behind you.

you turn, grinning, smile dropping slightly when you see she isn’t alone. “don't worry, i'm taking the piss out of him for it as we speak…”

“good.”

“...but i am gonna go and see him, in a minute,” you finish, looking down at your phone and giggling when you see a reply. “if that's alright, that is.”

matty raises his eyebrows the way he does before he opens his mouth, but taylor beats him to it. “look at you giggling at him! of course! go! but first,” she gently drags you to a nearby sofa and settles onto it, patting the seat beside her; you take it, while matty awkwardly settles himself on a footstool in front of you both. “tell me about him.”

“you really want to know?” you aren't quite sure which of them the question is directed at. taylor nods, and judging by matty's expression he's also curious, so you sigh and keep talking. “well, his name is michael. he's a playwright. we met through friends. he's lived in new york his whole life. he seems slightly obsessed with me, but in a good way - so far, at least. he's very sweet.”

“a playwright? that's cool,” taylor grins. “what does he look like?”

“a bit like andrew garfield, actually,” you laugh, looking down at your phone again. “and he's offering to meet me at a bar, so it's probably time for me to be on my way.”

“sure. have fun, stay safe,” she pulls you into a hug; you see matty wince, out of the corner of your eye. “thank you so much for coming. when do you go back home?”

“not until the end of the month. i don't know if i'm actually going on the festival run, yet,” you shrug. “but i'll go home before it, just in case.”

“it's a lot, isn't it?”

taylor, babe, you don't even know the half of it. “yeah. it won't be easy.”

she hums. “we should hang out before you go. nothing crazy, just dinner or drinks or something. like, something fun, before you have to go back to keeping a record label running,” she nudges matty, who smiles quickly but continues looking at the floor. “i'll call you, okay?”

“that sounds good,” you stretch. “right, i really should go - the bar is a twenty-minute walk from here and i said i'd meet michael in fifteen.”

matty tuts. “he's knowingly letting you walk alone to meet him at half ten at night? no. absolutely not.”

you roll your eyes. “for god's sake, i'll be fine. i'm an adult!”

“yeah, babe, but still,” taylor’s eyes are wide. “take a car! for our peace of mind, at least.”

our. you do your best not to shudder, and smile instead. “if you're sure…”

“she's sure,” matty nods. “get it to take you back to your… whatever it is you're staying in after your drink, too.”

“i mean, i'm going back to his,” you look matty dead in the eye when you say it, and the sadness that fills his is impossible to miss. christ, what is his deal? “but thanks. anyway,” you hug taylor before you stand. “thanks again for tonight. i'll see you soon,” you nod at matty. “and i'll… see you at finsbury, definitely. maybe sooner. i don't know. there'll be an email soon confirming what's happening. bye.”

much to your chagrin, matty stands too. “i'll walk you out. make sure you actually get in the car - i know what you're like.”

for fuck's sake. “alright. bye, taylor!” you wave as you move towards the door.

“bye, babe!”

you walk quickly through the corridors, trying to keep some distance between you and matty. annoyingly, though, he matches your pace, and speaks. “so… michael.”

the vitriol practically drips from his tongue. you scoff. “what about him?”

“tell me more about him. what’s he like?”

“he's my age,” you pointedly don’t look at matty when you say that, but you hear the way his breath catches in his throat. the guilt begins gnawing again; you keep talking to distract yourself from it. “he's ridiculously american, which means he doesn't get my sense of humour sometimes, but as soon as he found out i lived in london he took the piss and started calling me ‘princess’.”

the word leaves your mouth before you can stop it; as soon as it does, you bite the insides of your lips together, guilt spreading to every bone in your body. tentatively, you look round at matty, who's stopped walking in favour of looking at the ground and clasping his hands behind his neck. everything about him radiates hurt, and it only worsens when he quietly speaks. “he calls you what?”

you can't bring yourself to say it again. “you heard me, matty.”

“wish i fucking hadn't,” your ex looks up at you again, and you know he's about to verbally lash out; he looks exactly the same as he did before you split. “you really let him call you that? my name for you?”

“think you lost all rights to that the day you dumped me, to be honest, mate.”

“fucking hate it when you call me that. stop it.”

“well, i'm sure as shit not going to resort to what i used to call you, am i?”

matty laughs mirthlessly. it's the worst sound you've ever heard. “no, you've got michael for that now.”

“no, i haven't,” you're loathe to admit what you're about to say, but you really want him to feel bad. “haven't slept with him yet - or anyone, for that matter, since you broke up with me,” you glance at matty, who looks rightfully sheepish, and decide to just fuck with him even further. “but maybe i will tonight. s'about time i felt good about myself.”

“you know, you've been really fucking snide today. i don't know what i've done to deserve it.”

you stop dead in your tracks, turning to face him in total bewilderment. “well, aside from the whole, y'know, dumping me at the first sign of disagreement, you fucking started it with the arsey comments today, matty. sounds like you? fuck off.”

he shrugs. “but it does. you don't want what i want, so… why bother keeping this going?”

you huff, pushing the door to the staircase open. “i never said i didn't want to get married and have kids, by the way.”

“what? yes you-”

“no, i didn't,” you smile sadly. “all i said was that i was unsure, and because it wasn't me immediately saying yes to something for the first time in our relationship, you took it as a no.”

matty's shaking his head. “no, that-that's not-”

“yes it is, sweetheart,” the tears are beginning to prick at your eyes; matty's too, you can see. “that's what happened.”

“but you freaked out so much…”

“because you sprung it on me, out of the blue! come on, matty,” you can feel your jaw trembling. “you would've done the same, if a partner had asked you that question when you were my age.”

matty sniffles. “please stop bringing up the age gap, darling.”

the pet name enrages you; it's agonising how natural it sounds coming from his lips, and even more painful how automatically your body reacts to it. “well, i can't not, given that it's what fucked us up, in the end,” you take a deep breath, and walk out the side door onto the street. it's fairly quiet, you're relieved to see. “besides - i thought you liked it? that was my appeal, wasn't it? being young, and pretty, and naive, so fucking naive. a meek little toy, something you could play with however you wanted without fear of it rebelling against what you wanted. because that's really all that matters, isn't it, what you want? course it is, because when that was threatened, you stopped wanting me.”

hot tears are hitting your cheeks with increasing speed, but your voice somehow stays strong, unwavering, controlled; the same can't be said for matty, who's crying just as much as you. “no, no, that's not true, not at all, please don't say that.”

“but that's what it feels like,” your voice cracks into a sob. “you didn't even want to talk to me about it. you were just... fine with letting me go. i didn't think you could ever be so cruel to someone you claim to have loved, once, matty. especially not someone who loves you as much as i do,” sniffling, you wipe your eyes and open a car door, quickly telling the driver the address of the bar before turning back to matty. “i appreciate you getting taylor to invite me tonight, but i think it was a mistake; we can't be friends, you and i, we really can't. i'm sorry, it just… hurts,” you check the time. “i need to go. take care.”

it's too warm in the car. you roll the window down slightly. you can hear matty crying from halfway down the street.

[vinetae]

As If It's His Last - PJM

"Mmmm, you're such a sensitive baby, aren't you?"

Genre: FWB, F2L, Smut, mutual pinning?

Summary: it had been a simple agreement. You felt bad at how many times Jimin had a hectic schedule. And while you couldn't do anything about that, you could offer some services out of pity for the boy..

Warnings: shower sex, vaginal fingering, Dom!Jimin, bratty sub!Reader, shower games, cunillingus, spanking? Jimin's such a tease lol, unprotected sex (don't do this), best friend banter while fucking (and damn, do we love that), cursing, foul language.

Word Count: 4K

A/n: just some drabbles I forgot to post like a year ago. 💀🙏😭 This was heavily inspired by my simp ass and the vlive where jimin wished someone would wash him LMFAO.

Edit: welcome back, you horny bitches. I've updated this to conclude their FULL SMUT. So, happy early birthday 💀😭

_______

"I'll do it" you comment, as he sits up to counter your straight face. His eyebrows lift, a shocked expression plastered his features.

"You what?" He asks, not truly comprehending what his friend had just agreed to.

"I'll wash you if you want."

He laughs out loud at the seemingly meaningless joke. His chest rises in sharp points, as his joking reaction makes your face remain unchanged. He'd been complaining for around an hour, seeing how long he could go without a shower after coming back from a hard session's practice. He'd always procrastinate washing himself, but never excused his hygiene.

Ironically, he was possibly the most clean person you've ever known. He always loved dousing himself in expensive perfumes, a 10-step skincare, and brushing his teeth for not 3 but FOUR minutes, twice a day. If you hadn't known better, you might've mistook him for a germaphobe. Once you had seen his apartment for the first time, you'd quickly realized your accusations were limited to what everyone say everyday.

"Are you for real?" He questions, not believing that his friend of only a few months would help him with something so intimate that ESPECIALLY only couples would do.

However, you were just a good friend.

You slide the cover of your book down your thighs, sighing at his thick head.

"Seriously Jimin? You just spent almost an hour debating whether showering in the morning or afternoon is healthier. You KNOW you only did that so you could excuse your laziness." His eyes widen at your words, but he doesn't deny it.

"But... Are you sure? I mean we've only known each other for a few months And-" you stand, glancing at his slouched figure.

"It's an offer, not a request. You want help, and I like helping people. Plus, it'll give me practice for when I volunteer at the senior citizen home." You tease flashing him a cheeky grin, as he stands, yelling to protest.

"Hey! Don't call me old!" You laugh at his cute pout. He watches as the sway of your hips lure him to the frame that connect the hallway to bathroom. He can feel the dryness of his throat out run the natural portion. Your upper body turns to graze his eyes, a tiny, sultry grin tugs your cornered lip.

"Coming?"

..

His eyes trail on the curves of your frame as you remove rhe excess pieces that had hidden your goddess-like figure so well. His tongue sticks out to wet the pad of his lips, making the plump set glisten. His gesture doesn't go unnoticed for you as well. You bat the thick of your eyelashes, while slowly removing the last article of clothing, sending him a greasy smirk.

"Yah, this ain't a free strip club." You point to the shower, watching the gears in his head finally turning to your command. This time, it's your turn to oogle at his built figure. The sweat glistens off his proportioned figure, sliding down the muscles of his arms. The veins in his hands track all the way to his protruding Adam's apple, watching it Bob up and down once before he removes another piece of his clothing.

Soon, he's left in nothing bit tight clad briefs, the Chanel red and white stripped label hugs his lower waist oh so perfectly. His lips tug into a smirk nothing how you'd been caught on his waist for one second too long. He curves his thumb to tug the elastic of his briefs down, giving you a teasing peak of his prominent v-line. He watches your cheek indent quickly, knowing that you'd bitten the inside harshly.

You shake your head to rid yourself of the impure images that had Corrupted your mind for a few moments. You meet his gaze, before motioning to the shower. He chuckles, noticing the tint of your ears matching hues with your cheeks. He stalks your figure, closing the small space that had separated the two of you, and sane from insanity.

"Aren't you going to get wet too?" His thumb comes to lift the point of your chin, narrowed eyes dark chocolate and fiery, baring down into your doe-like irises. His fingers come to toy with the elastic of your bra, before releasing it as it snaps against your skin. You flinch at the sudden act, the lump in your throat doesn't seem to faulted in rendering you speechless. His breath rolls past the shell of your ear, brushing the side of your cheek smoothly.

"No? Because.."

His steps corner you into the steamy shower until you're pressed up against the tiled wall. His eyes peer into yours, hands come up to already palm the rounds of your breasts pulling the thin fabric down to toy with the erect buds.

"I think you already are."

You'd gone into this situation with tact and though-filled head. Now, your girly brain had been boiling on the stove labeled horny, with your pussy as the chef, and Jimin being the heat.

Weird analogy I know, but still.

It's true.

The inside of his palm comes up to trace along the heated outline of your figure. His smirk beaming wider than a turn an eighteen-wheeler has to make.

"So quiet now, huh?" Your brain had almost been fried by his lingering touches, when a sense of well.. sensibility washes over you. Suddenly, you had regained your voice.

"You keep this up and you'll be stuck with blue balls AND a lonely wash up." Your tone seeps into his brain, pushing past all of the aroused and biological thoughts that had clouded his mind. He pouts, but backs away, giving you space as you repremand his ass.

Once his lecture was over, you watched as he lowered himself into the tub's heated waters, watching as his face immidiently forms new expressions. Most had remained relaxed, but one still stood out to you.

The steam had now risen to damp the ends of his hair, making the baby strands cling to his forehead. His newly dyed locks had blocked a portion of his view. You smile, bringing your hand up to brush the straggles out of his way. Much like how a mother's caring touch would be. He sighs, unconsiously leaning into your touch. You'd pulled your hand a few centimeters away right before his selfish, naughty hands had brought them right back down, pressing your palms against his reddened cheek.

"Just... stay like this, please?" He whines softly, not wanting to release from the comforting touch of your hands. You sigh, shifting on the tub's edge before finding an okay position. His eyes lull closed, peaking open once a while to make sure that you hadn't left him.

Your chin rests on tub's edge, watching how his facial features sink more into a relaxed transe. Finally, he felt at peace.

Except the hardening of his cock under the soapy waters.

He groans, trying to push those thoughts away, know that you hadn't been in that kind of mood right now.

You had usually flirted back and countered his sweet-comments and teases, a grin of your own painting your expressions while you two laughed, ending the silly encounter each time. Your laugh lines had been his serotonin. He'd never openly admit this.. of course.

But those sweet-nothings were for a different time, told to him by his stirring cock. Thankfully, the lavander and vanilla bath bomb you'd decided to throw in last minute had dissloved into a perfect shield for his dick.

Though the wet patches along your skin had done the opposite.

He peaks his eyes open, watching as the water shines an almost like glitter effect on the surface of your skin. With each splotch of water had been followed by clear definitions of it's gleams.

Yep... there goes his thoughts again.

"Y/n.." He gently calls out, seeing if you'd react with the same tone as earlier. He looks to see that your face had softened, showing him a more caring side than before. Usually, you had been this strong, confident and stubborn woman he'd grown to love. But how the way your rosy cheeks matched his set from the steamy waters had painted a different picture for him.

It also didn't help that you were in the most basic, but sexiest pair of underwear and bra he'd ever seen.

Sure, he's seen the lace, the frills, satin, silks and more.

Maybe it's his crazy, sex-driven mind..

But you looked like the most beautiful thing in the world.

Hell, this feeling wasn't even that sexual.

It had always been with him.

Since the day you two had meet in that cafe.

His voice calls out again, watching as your nose scrunches from the louder volume, but yet still having that gentle and warming tone he'd always carry.

You hum in response, not really minding what he was going to go on about. Sure you cared but..

This water had also felt too good to pass up.

So you opted for dragging your finger tips across it's fluctuate surface, watching as your minimal movements had trailed behind light ripples in their place. Your digits dip down ever so often, relaxing at the bath water's warm embrace.

This time, you hear your name for the third time.

You sigh, glancing to pull your eyes from the peaceful streams, to his boyish look.

Except...

He hadn't looked boyish at all.

The prominent lines of his muscle protruded far more than you could've ever imagned. His upper porportion had broad shoulders, defined and calculated features that would make any female instantly swoon.

"How are you going to wash me if I'm in here, and you're out there." His chin comes to rest on the tub's edge in front of you, mimicking your position with a smile painting his features.

You sigh, trying to hide the obvious smile that had accidentally slipped from your control.

"Fine," You fake a groan, acting as if your mother asking you to take out the trash. You see his lips pucker to a cute, puppy-like pout.

"You offered, you know.." You nod, removing your last pieces of clothing before stepping into the water's steamy embrace. The tub hadn't been that large, so you had to really squeeze to fit the both of you. Somehow, he manage to scoot closer, a gleam so warm and inviting lays beneath his cold, matured exterior.

He rests of the point of his chin on the round of his knees, pulling them closer to his chest, as you had done the same. That earns you a laugh from his side.

"Two bros, chilling in a bath tub two feet apart cause they're not gay." You laugh at the stupid reference, hitting his shoulder lightly. "You're ridiculous."

As your smiles recceed, something had taken their place. Even though both sets of tucked legs had been the barrier between the two of you, it didn't stop the lack of space slowly disappearing at the held gaze you both had in your eyes.

Your lips barely just centimeters away, as his hand comes up to cup the round of your cheek, his voice lowering to a permissive octave.

"You know, that trend of Tik Tok has been going around lately." You chuckle at his random response.

"Which one? There are about a gazillion.."

he leans in closer, brushing the pads of his lips against yours, giving you just a slight taste of what he's offering.

"The one where you kiss your best friend."

You lightly scoff at his comment.

He can't be serious.

.. Can he?

One more lessened inch was all it took for his lips to capture yours. The kiss had been gentle and kind at first, until something primal and needy had taken the reigns. His breath became heavy, the sounds he started to let slip had been doing a number on your sensability.

Just before anything gets too heavy, he quickly pulls away, leaving a trail of saliva bridging between his and your lips.

"I- want to make sure that you're okay.." You're quick to nod, trying to rekindle the fire he had you desiring so, but he takes control once more.

"I need verbal confirmation, Y/n. I don't want to make it feel like I'm forcing you or anythi-" He's cut off by the pressure of your lips crashing onto his.

Once you're through, it's your turn to pull away, leaving him in need.

"Permission granted.." Those few words had all it took for his lips to finally connect with your once more, this time with a firey and passionate seer of affection attached along with it. His hands are quick to unfold your body, pulling to straddle his lap. The already lack of any attire had been teasing enough, as the butterflies flying around in your stomach had been inexorable. Your confidentials meeting to grind against one another, the length of his cock gliding easily through your folds. His head draws back, groaning at the delightful feeling.

"Are we..." He takes in a few breaths, trying to make sense of this situation for what's best for the both of you.

"Are we sure this is a good place for our first?" You take a look around, thinking logically on how this could go. Your faces scrunches at the idea.

"Shower then?" Your comment had him rising quicker than his dick did, pulling you along up with him before he's pressing your back up against the tiled shower's wall. His palms coming to cup the rounds of your breasts, tweaking your nipples gently to see your reaction.

Not to his surprised, you'd moaned.

Quite loudly in fact.

Your head lulls against the shower's walls, while his smirk creeps his face.

"Didn't know you had that in you.." He groans, free hand reaching behind to pull your ass tighter against his frame, giving the rounded flesh some gentle squeezes.

"What do you mean, in me?" Your head follows the trail of kisses his lips had placed upon your exposed upper half, watching the glint in his eyes each time he notice your body flinching at the light grazes.

"Mmmm, you're such a sensitive baby, aren't you?" Your lips part, mouth dropping down to form a long O-shape. The digits of his fingers trail down your torso, brushing along the dip of your navel before slipping between your thighs. Your hands reach out to wrap themselves around his neck, while your palm moves the strands out from his view.

His long digits drew light circles into your hooded bud, as your back arches against the tiled wall. Your sounds are the only confirmation he needed to continue on his exploration.

"Hmm, you know I've always wondered something.." His tone is teasing, with a hint of malicious .. something.. behind it.

There was deffiantly more than this sweet cinnamon personality.

You scoff at his retort, feeling the way our leg twitches from the small amount of pleasure you'd reccived.

"I've always wanted to know.." You felt the sting of his finger pushing its way up into you, sliding easily past your folds, as the sounds it had drawn out were immaculate to his ears.

"If my accusations were correct." You groan out, not knowing a damn about what he had been going on with, but knowing damn well how it felt.

You chuckle at his words. "Yeah? What accusations?"

A smirk plasters his face.

"Oh, you know.. Just some things that have popped into my head.." His head's quick to find it's way down your body, as his face had been at direct level with your sobbing core. Your breath hitched at the sight.

"About how much pressure it would take for you to squeeze me with the fucking thighs until my head popped like a balloon.." His words cut like a knife dragging along your skin. His hand comes up, spreading your lips apart to reveal all of your shameful glory.

"How pretty this pussy would look all wet and needy for me." He removes all pressure, licking a stripe up the very center as your head lulls back, fist full of his hair quickly fill your balled hands.

"How loud you can scream my name."

Your hands ball ever more at his sudden words, as he takes the plump of his lips, wrapping them around your throbbing clit as a whole new world of this shit had just been unlocked for you like a fucking video game. He reaches up, pulling one of your thighs over his shoulder, burying the face even deep into your aching pussy, watching as the tip of his nose kisses your public bone.

Sounds of pleasure and nothing more had filled the dorm's shower room, as your best friend had been on his knees, acting like your pussy had been his favorite meal.

His palms grip at your thighs, feeling the soft pudgy goodness engulf his head even more.

Your head lulled back, thighs quivering around his head. Hands coming to grip at his damp roots, mouth jarring wide as he practically recites every letter from the alphabet.

You certainly hadn't planned for this to happen with your best friend. But hey,

Was this really a time to complain?

"Fu-fucking- Oh shit!" The burn you felt between your thighs had nothing on Jimin's teeth biting down into the side of your neck. His hips rolled against your body, as his arm kept your thigh proped up and open for his liking.

The pad of his lips switching between sucking and marking your damp skin, hot water steaming down onto the both of you. Your fingers tugged at his newly dyed roots,mouth parting as his cock slides against your walls.

"So fucking good for me, baby. Taking my cock so well." Your head lulls back, chest heaving in agony. His hips snapped against yours, as his hand helds you at the sides to keep you in place.

"O-oh my God.." You whine, unconsciously lifting your other leg to try and wrap yourself fully around his waist. A chuckle rolls from his lips, before he gently pulls out, making you whine from loss of contact.

In a matter of seconds, he has you sat on his lap, as he's resting on the shower stools surface. Wasn't the series position, but hey. You weren't one to complain.

"And here I thought Jin's old man stool was useless." He retorts, guiding your hips to sink down onto his standing cock. Your hands use the crease of his shoulders in balancing, as your let out a short laugh.

"Oh so now I have to do all the work?"

A smirk presses his lips, as his mouth reaches out to suck dark blotches into the skin of your collarbone. "Be a good girl and maybe it'll be worth your while."

Your heart sank at his words.

"Fuck you for being my friend."

"Why? Cause I'm so awesome at it?"

"No." You groan, taking a big gulp of air from the steam of the shower. "C-Cause you fucking know me too well."

He chuckles, gently guiding your hips along the length of his cock, your legs hugged to his sides in support of the painful position.

"Oh, im sorry for being such a good friend." Smirking, his hand comes to cup your breast, tweaking the erect bud between his two fingers. He watches as your lips drop to part in pleasure, leaning your body closer to his. The moment had been arrogant, and annoying, but most of all..

Amazing.

"mm- s-still fuck you." You moan out, body presses against his, in support. The burning of your thighs had been overpowering your motives to continue, as you let out a whine.

"Yeah yeah, yoy know you love it." Your pussy cleched around his cock, making your head fall onto his shoulder. His praises pulling you into a daze you'd never felt before. Nails digging into his glistening skin, the shower mixed along with your sweat at done nothing in making this scene any less arousing.

He lets out a soft chuckle, bringing his arms up to hold your body to his, making sure your fucked out state doesn't injure yourself.

His lips hover gently infront of yours, brushing a string of wet hair from your view.

"Weak." He teases.

You lift your arm, punching his side gently. His chest rolls out a soft laugh,hoisting your waist to press against his.

"Yah, are you really trying to sleep when we're having sex?"

Your head shakes, forehead pressed into his shoulder dip. "Fucking burns.."

"Ah, yeah I know. It's pretty big."

You lift up, playfully hitting his chest once more from his comment.

"Alright alright. Jeez, making the man do all the work as usual, huh?" He's quick to lift your body from his, pressing you back against the shower wall, easily sliding his cock through your velvety walls once more. Your arms throw themselves around his neck, head craning backwards as your back arches off against the wall. He scoffs, rolling his hips into yours. His finger coming up to poke your cheek.

"Faker."

A smile presses your lips, closing the distance between the two of you. Hands carding through his damp locks, as the shower's hot pressure drips along both of your skin.

Your eyes screwed shut, sucking in a breath. "F-fuck i-i'm-" His lips capture yours once more, as the tip of his index finger reaches down, rubbing circles against your throbbing clit.

"Yeahh, cum for me, jagi. Let all the guys know who's fucking you this good." Your head knocks back against the marbled shower wall, thighs twitching in his grip as a wave of pleasure crashes in to you. He moans out, feeling the way you clamp down on his when your orgasm hits.

"Oh, yeahhh! That's my good girl. Such a good baby for me- fuck!" With one final thrust, the tip of his cock kisses your cervix as he paints your walls white. You both pull away slightly, trying to catch your breaths. The hot shower water had done nothing in cooling the two of you down.

After a few moments drip by, Jimin lifts his head to look at you. A smirk presses his lips, as he pulls your figure back against his to make the two of your stand under the shower's rainfall like pressure.

"Looks like you're the one who needs a wash off now.."

You chuckle, cupping the side of his face in your palms, placing a gentle peck to his lips. His hands come to hold your waist, returning the cute gesture.

_______

Holy shit I'm finding so many unpublished drafts..

[filtharchives]

a sfw piece! finally! yippee! happy new year!

four parts total, mostly short aside from the third 

summary: cove x reader - you presented as your secondary sex and now you and cove have to cope; just small moments in the omegaverse

tags: sfw, fem/afab reader, omega!reader, alpha!cove, omegaverse, minor implications of predatory behavior towards reader, slight reimagination of the intro to Step 3, kind of possessive cove (very minor tho), blood mention (during bond marking), not edited lol i don’t do that lmk if i missed any tags tho

at fourteen years old, you figured you got the hang of the whole ‘puberty’ thing—or at least understood it enough to live with it. of course, you weren’t done with new changes, according to your parents and your middle school health teacher. you still had to present, which would come sooner or later by now.

it came sooner rather than later. you went to bed feeling a little weird but woke up this morning feeling normal again, only to run into your sister on the way to the bathroom and for her to freeze in her tracks and stare at you in surprise for a moment as she sniffs the air. 

“oh, hey. you’re an omega. congrats,” she’d said before quickly entering the bathroom and locking you out as she went about her morning routine.

despite elizabeth’s lackluster reaction, your moms were much more enthusiastic about your presentation, and your ma even taught you how to nest, bringing you to now. 

you’re waiting on cove’s bed while he digs through his closet, looking for things to give you for your first nest, as per your request. he was incredibly flustered when you asked and the blush on his face still hasn’t quite gone away. 

“is a blanket okay?” cove asks, holding one up and avoiding eye contact. 

“ma says that when people give their omega stuff for their nest, it’s usually used clothes,” you say matter-of-factly, pretending not to notice cove’s flinch when you say ‘their omega’. “cause it still has their scent and stuff on it.”

“w-why do you even want my stuff anyways?” cove asks shyly, putting the blanket back.

“ma said that for younger omegas who don’t have mates, their nest usually has stuff from their family and friends, and you and i are best friends, so i need your stuff too.” 

cove nods in understanding, a little less embarrassed now, but only enough to look up at you from his place on the floor. 

“alright, then. so… wanna look through my laundry basket?” he chuckles a bit, finding the proposition a little weird. you giggle as well but nod, scooting up the bed and out of the way as cove grabs his laundry basket and dumps its contents across his sheets. you grab one of the shirts and sniff, feeling butterflies in your stomach. you don’t even notice you’re smiling as you do, and cove doesn’t have the guts to point it out, instead electing to turn away and pick out another shirt for you. 

you put the two shirts to the side and return your attention to the laundry pile, a small snort escaping you before you can cover your face. 

“what’s up?” cove asks, raising a brow. you snicker and point to a spot in the pile, where a few of cove’s underwear are visible. cove let’s out an embarrassed sound and quickly grabs at them, throwing them back into his laundry basket. he tosses one more shirt your way before clearing the rest of the laundry off the bed. “i think that’s enough!” his voice cracks at the end but you decide to be merciful and ignore it, thanking him for the clothes instead and asking if he wants to come over and see your work-in-progress nest. 

when you return to school after summer–your first day of high school!--cove anxiously sticks by you as you both wave goodbye to mr. holden before he drives off to his shop. after you presented, his father told him to look out for you–a young omega is a target for new and seasoned alphas alike–and even if you would only be on school grounds for majority of the day, anywhere that wasn’t sunset bird suddenly made cove hyper-aware of how others looked at you; especially upperclassmen alphas. it didn’t help that he was a late bloomer who still hasn���t presented yet, as it made him feel like a younger kid who wouldn’t be able to defend you if need be, despite his height and athletic build. 

the two of you hang around outside the school building, not wanting to overwhelm your nose with the amount of presented alphas and omegas within before it was time. cove sympathized with you, as even without presenting, his nose had always been pretty keen and for some reason he had a weird feeling in his gut since he woke up this morning. still, even waiting outside hardly comforts him as he watches alphas look at you as they pass by or sit outside. cove holds your hand–whether for your sake or his is debatable–and groans when the bell rings, warning students they have five minutes to get to class. 

“do we have to go?” he practically whines as the others outside make their way into the building. 

“we don’t wanna be late on the first day,” you say, chuckling at his behavior. 

“we’re freshmen–we can just tell them we got lost,” he shrugs. despite that, he relents and stands from his seat along with you. he puts both hands on your shoulders and looks you in the eyes. “text me if anything happens, okay? if anyone makes you uncomfortable or anything, i’ll come over, even if i’m in class.” you don’t doubt he would–he’s your best friend and didn’t care too much about school so long as he passed. 

“alright,” you nod. cove hesitates for a moment before pulling you into a hug and you can feel how worried he is to be apart from you in such a big, new school and your perceived vulnerability. if only you had the same schedules, but unfortunately, your counselors didn’t get the memo that you two were a package deal. 

cove gives you another squeeze as you hug him back and suddenly something catches your nose, making you sniff a few times. led by your senses, you bury your nose into the side of cove’s neck, making him yelp and pull back in surprise. 

“what are you doing?” he squeaks out. you don’t have the mind to be embarrassed as you look up at him in surprise. 

“cove,” you say with wide eyes. “i think you just presented. i think you’re an alpha.” cove’s eyes match yours. 

“wait- seriously?” he gapes. “wha- how? just now? an alpha.” instead of answering, you pull the collar of your top to your nose and inhale.

“... and i think you just scented me,” you add. cove’s face is pink at that revelation and before he can continue sputtering and apologizing, the second bell rings, meaning the two of you are officially late to your first classes. you grab cove’s arm and all but drag him into the school.

“hey, wait!” cove’s brain catches up and he matches your steps. “uh- what now?”

“now, we go to class,” you say. “we can talk about this all at lunch, but i really don’t wanna be later than we are.” you flash him a grin. “besides, since you’ve scented me, i’m sure no other alpha’s gonna wanna come near me, so that’s good, right?” cove blushes deeper but nods. 

“r-right. yeah. that’s good.” 

cove is beyond delighted to be an alpha. yeah, he wouldn’t have minded being a beta like his mom and his new friend terri, but being an alpha almost guaranteed that he could keep you safe from other alphas just by his scent laying a soft claim on you. 

so, after that first incident, it became routine for you to have cove’s scent on you. even now, in your sophomore year of high school, cove would scent you in the back of his dad’s car on the drive to school. cliff fully supported this morning routine out of concern for how high school alphas would act towards you without this kind of deterrent, even calling cove a ‘good kid’ for looking out for you so heavily. if only he knew cove’s actions were a little less platonic than he let on since the two of you confessed your mutual feelings at 13 (but even without being officially dating yet, cove was pretty sure his dad wouldn’t be surprised). 

summer of 2016 rolled around and now you were with cove on the steps outside his house, waiting for the new tenant(s) of the donnells’ former summer home. finally, the sound of a car grabs your attention, followed by the sight of a taxi turning into the street. 

“this has to be them, right?” cove asks, eyebrows raised. 

“the only people who come out here, live here,” you grin, a chuckle leaving your lips. “it has to be!” 

cove let out a small, surprised “oh” when the taxi door opened, revealing a young man around your age, dressed in black and white with swoopy hair to match.

“hello, folks,” the young man greets with a smooth voice. “who might you be?” 

“um- we’re the neighbors,” cove replies, only slightly recovered from the surprise. the new tenant’s smile grew in a cocky yet non-malicious way. 

“hallelujah,” he says. you and cove share a bewildered look before looking at the young man again, watching as he grabs his suitcase from the taxi and thanks the driver. when he saunters over, you and cove stand up from the steps. 

“i’m baxter ward,” the new neighbor, now known as baxter, says. “it’s excellent to meet you, neighbors.” he turns his attention to you and holds out his hand to shake. feeling no bad vibes from him–a sense of familiarity filling you instead–you hold your arms open for a hug instead, which baxter accepts without missing a beat. 

“welcome to sunset bird, baxter,” you say before introducing yourself. baxter greets you in kind as you both pull away from each other. 

“we’ve met before,” he says, making your boyfriend ask, “what?! when?” baxter continues to smile widely, head tilted slightly to the side as he studies your visage. “it’s embarrassing, but i haven’t remembered that part yet,” he admits with a cordial laugh while cove continues to stare in disbelief. “i’m getting there. don’t tell me. i know you want to, but do not. it’ll come to me.” he sniffs the air from his polite distance, trying to recall where he’s smelled you before, and suddenly recognition appears in his eyes. he announces his revelation with a snap of his fingers. “the cypress, at the summer soiree! of course. mm, that had to have been before any regionals, so, ah, at the time i was about fourteen years old. that makes it… five years ago from now, right?” cove’s mouth fell open. 

“are you kidding me?” your boyfriend asks with a raised eyebrow. “is he serious? did you really meet this guy at that country club five years ago?”

“yeah,” you say with a small, disbelieving smile–a little speechless about said guy being right in front of you again. “i told you about him, remember? the mysterious boy who danced with me that night? lee was all over that story.” cove’s eyes widen a little more, both in surprise and realization. he let’s out another little “oh” before baxter speaks again. 

“it’s good not to forget a face,” he says. “you see, my parents are members of the cypress. they happened to be passing through on a trip across different states when they heard about the event. funnily enough, the entire reason they joined was for the connections they could make with other members there. looks like that perk has finally hit for me too. originally, i thought it was only any good since i could occasionally dance there.”

“dance?” cove asks. 

“yes,” baxter nods. “i’m a ballroom dancer. ah- forgive me. i started talking about myself before you even had the chance to introduce yourself.” he holds out his hand for cove to shake. you see your boyfriend straighten up to his full height–on purpose or not, you can’t tell–as he shakes baxter’s hand, eyeing him carefully. 

“i’m cove,” he says. “i don’t know much about dancing, but that’s pretty cool.” 

“you have a wonderful name,” baxter grins. “dancing isn’t hard once you get the basics down.” cove doesn’t seem convinced, raising a skeptical brow once more. baxter decides to continue with that same cocky grin. “well, if either of you are looking for a partner, i’m available.” cove involuntarily stiffens, instinctively pulling you closer by the waist. 

“i already have a partner,” he says, relaxing as you lean into his side with a hand on his torso. “(y/n) is the only one i’d wanna dance with. she’s my girlfriend."

“you’re both together?” baxter asks with only a little surprise.

“yeah, we are,” you confirm with a soft smile. 

“now that’s crushing; but makes sense,” he says with a small chuckle. “i got here too late. should’ve taken a semester off sooner.” cove’s smile flattens out and his eyes narrow at his new neighbor. you can’t help but snort at the sudden flare-up of his scent, lightly patting your hand on his chest. on the other hand, baxter looks unoffended, instead offering another apologetic smile. “that’s a joke,” he clarifies. “really, i didn’t mean to intrude on anything you have with the offer.” cove reels in control of his scent, placated. 

“i’ll take you up on that offer sometime,” you chirp with a cheeky smile, giggling to yourself as cove rolls his eyes with an exasperated smirk and a huff through his nose at your agreement coming right after his refusal. 

“i really am qualified to give lessons,” baxter says, looking at cove for his blessing. 

“yeah, it’s fine,” cove relents, playfully pinching your side. “so, um. what made you decide on sunset bird?” 

“oh, yes,” baxter nods, taking in the question. “well, my parents rented a condo so i had a place to stay while i’m off for a semester from college and not living in the dorms.” there’s a playful glint in his eyes as he continues. “ideally, they wanted to send me somewhere that wasn’t too exciting, but, lucky for me, they picked the wrong street. considering the two of you live here.” baxter then preemptively lifts his hands up in front of his chest, giving the gesture for meaning no harm. “it’s nice not to be the only one my age around the neighborhood for an entire summer, nothing more.” 

“you could’ve phrased it like that in the first place,” cove sighs. 

“i don't feel the need to keep words of praise to myself, but they’re not romantic come-ons,” baxter explains. “i see that you two are very much a committed pair. i’d like to be friends, if we can. but that’s all.” 

“it’s… okay,” cove says with a small smile, an attempt at friendliness. on the other hand, you can’t help but grin. 

“i’m finding it pretty entertaining.” baxter laughs at that, due to your own amusement or the difference in how you and your beloved receive him you don’t know.

“glad we’re working things out,” he says. shifting his weight to his other foot, baxter tries to move forward. “so, which condo is yours? how long have you been living together?” 

“oh- no!” cove sputters again, making you laugh. “we’re… we’re both your neighbors, but we live in different houses with our parents.” the two of you point to your homes directly across the street from each other with your free hands. 

“you’re neighbors who started dating?” baxter asks with wide eyes before sighing with a sort of satisfied smile. “what a couple of lovebirds. you’re the backbone of romantic society! honestly, i hope you never break up. if you can make it work, there might be a chance for the rest of us.” cove sighs in exasperation despite the bit of amusement on his face. baxter continues, “well, if either of you are free, i’d be thrilled to hang out this summer, but we can save the schedule talk for later. goodbye for today.” he gives you both a small nod and a dazzling smile. you and cove both give your “bye”s and the newcomer turns around to go to his new, temporary home with his belongings. 

with him out of the scene, coves lets out a long breath. 

“well,” he says, looking at you with a tired smile. “i don’t know how i’m gonna explain that guy to my dad.” you burst into a fit of laughter trying to imagine the conversation. “at least the job is done. we saw the new neighbor, and now we can go meet up with terri and miranda.”

“yeah, we should get going,” you nod. as you and cove start to walk up the street, you feel him give your waist another squeeze, his arm not having left you at all since he first placed it. 

“don’t think i’ve forgotten about how much of a brat you were just a minute ago,” he smirks. “i’ll pay you back eventually.” 

“i have no clue what you’re talking about,” you snicker, only for cove to stop walking and pull you into his chest, both arms now wrapped around you. he holds you in a tight embrace as he takes his time rubbing the sides of his neck against yours. 

“i should’ve scented you the moment you crossed the street,” you hear him mutter, making you snort at his protectiveness–or is it possessiveness? either way, you can’t say you hate it when you tilt your head to give him easier access. miranda and terri may have to wait a little longer. 

it’s a week after your shared heat/rut that cove decides to bring it up. the two of you have been engaged for some time now and he feels like he might just burst. 

“you want to bond?” you repeat, a little slack-jawed. “now?”

“yes,” he nods firmly despite the apprehensive look on his face and the awkward squirming in his seat. “not unless you do, of course. but i’ve been thinking about it a lot these past few months, even before we got engaged, and… a-and it was all i could think about doing during- …during my rut.” his face goes even redder at that admission but he forces himself to maintain eye contact with you. “we’re already engaged and honestly… i don’t wanna wait until after the wedding. i wanna be yours, forever, now.” you can’t help the blush that creeps up your neck nor  the way your heart pounds, just like you can’t help the smile that spreads on your lips. 

“okay,” you breathe out softly, as if not trying to scare your fiancé. “okay. i wanna bond too. i’m ready.” 

“r-really?!” cove squeaks out, surprised you agreed so soon. “are you sure?” you chuckle, nodding. 

“yup. positive,” you affirm with a smile. “do you wanna go first?” cove gulps as you run a hand through your hair, slightly moving it away from your neck. you bite your lip to keep from laughing when you see the look on his face: eyes wide and focused on your neck while his mouth is slightly open, maybe even close to drooling. 

without even responding, cove leans towards you, his strong arms simultaneously pulling you into his lap. he looks you in the eyes again and without a trace of doubt on your face, he smiles shyly before opening his mouth and going right for your closest scent gland. you wince and let out a whimper as you feel his teeth sink in, but you know it has to be done–the bite needs to be strong enough to bleed in order to leave a proper mark. cove gently rubs over your back when he feels you wince, a silent apology for the pain as he gently releases your neck and laps up the drops of blood that remain. 

“you did so good,” he says softly, licking and kissing at the new mark on your neck. you meet his eyes for a moment to see the tears welling up, your softie alpha crumbling at how permanent your intertwined lives have become, before he returns to burying his face in your neck and soothing the purposeful wound. “thank you.” 

“don’t thank me yet,” you muse, running a hand through his seafoam locks. “i still have to mark you.” 

“i know,” he says with a watery chuckle. “and i’ll thank you again after that. just… in a moment. just let me finish with the blood. i don’t like seeing you hurt, even if it’s for this. but thank you for trusting me to do this. for wanting to be with me forever and stuff. for being with me all this time.” 

“you’re always thanking me,” you laugh, now just as watery as his voice. “you did the same thing during the proposal.” 

“i know,” he repeats, looking at you with a smile despite the tears now falling down his cheeks. “i just have a lot to be thankful for when it comes to you. and i want you to know that. how much i appreciate you and need you and… and love you. i love you so much. and thanks to you, i know it’s not ‘too much’.” 

“i love you too,” you whisper, not trusting your voice to not break if you spoke any louder.

“i know.”

BONUS my omegaverse hcs

alphas: liz, cove, cliff, gregorio, jorge

omegas: noelani, lee, miranda, derek, irene, shiloh

betas: pamela, kyra, terry, baxter, nicolas, jeremy

[iintervallum]

Sometimes I think about how the dndads cast should be on tumblr, with them having a subreddit(you know how they can be) and dndadstwt being like 10 people, tumblr would be the perfect place for them to see more of the fandom, if they wish to that is. Since quite a lot of people on here are way less honed in on negativity than reddit and twitter.

My edit of this is getting long lol so I'm putting it under a cut

Especially reddit, the people on there honestly I think just get too attached to a specific format or way of doing things, its a common pattern in any long running show fandoms i've been in where its reddit that constantly complains about the "good ol' days" and hate any new changes made. I would sometimes drop in and just see a lot of Scary hate at times, or people getting very irritated with the rule breaking, or just complaining that they're "forcing" the humor. I saw a post like that when i just started s2 and that couldnt have been more incorrect (yeah the piss jokes got a bit much but every other part was golden!...pun not intended)

There were absolutely points where I felt my interest wanning, but I think people would get pretty vicious about it and make a lot of mean spirited accusations. Like if anything the things I really enjoyed about this season was how different it was to s1, the contrast was really nice and i liked a lot of the story choices made, i still think about the apollo four teens and the fucking goof realm episodes, they were amazing. Which is why I remember thinking it was odd that they suddenly started involving the dads from s1 more, but knowing now that Anthony was struggling with people not liking this season as much it makes perfect sense.

Idk if it were just me, but i liked the earlier parts of the season for how the teens were still kind of discovering more about themselves and through gathering each anchor, learning more that their parents are people too, with their own fuck ups revealed and the teens have to clean up after them, so having it shift to be about Willy again was a little odd if i'm being honest(I didnt hate it but a repeat villian is hard to do, and for what its worth i think Willy did get the end he deserved and i loved the finale).

Funnily, in its own way it fits the theme of being a teenager and having to live up to your parents expectations. In a meta sense this being the successor to the first season and it being awkward at points and having issues with its identity is very fitting and just like how teenhood actually is.

I've gotten off topic but my point is fandom is just fandom, and letting it influence the way creators can view their own work is an interesting side effect of the internet and the way we navigate with the media we enjoy or hate. And spaces like reddit are grown in a way to encourage more brutally critical ways of analysing media which has very little consideration for the creator. By no means am I saying that the creators of things should be coddled, heck I literally airing my own annoyances with the podcast in space where i'm uplifting the positivity of tumblr over those spaces lol. I just mean that seeing the more genuine side of the fanbase would be more of a better time for them.

EDIT: (I just phrased things better, fixed the spelling and grammer errors and added more thoughts) The more I ruminate on this the more I think that it would honestly be a good idea. Like I do get the base worry of being too close to the more intense side of the fandom, as people on here are unafraid to gush about the show in ways that can be a little much and theres parasociality and all that jazz.

But it would be really good at least to see some actual genuine positivity, so many people provide their thoughtful meta and theories that even if widely off base are just interesting to read through because of how various different people see themselves in the characters they play. And even the critiques people give are not unkind, they come from a place of wanting to understand the choices made better.

I mentioned this in the old version of this post but having a blacklisted tag that only the people who don't wish their post to be seen by the cast use, something along the lines like how the magnus archives fandom has "do not archive", would be a very useful tool to create a barrier in the fanbase. I know i'm someone who feels very nervous about creators seeing the posts I make. Something like "not safe for dads" could work well or any other joke or pun about it being hidden. I doubt it would be filled with discourse or whatever it would mainly be people hornyposting since i know fandom well enough lol.