#the team i had when i first started mostly got along but after we lost half of them at once because of the old manager it went downhill | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chimcess · 10 months ago

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Waterlog || pjm (1)

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

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

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

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

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

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

With an annoyed sigh, he nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s great to hear,” He smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She thought for a second before replying.

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

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

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

“Drive safe. See you in a bit.”

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

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

“Love you,” She sing-songed playfully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hiding behind humor was a pastime.

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s young, ain’t he?”

I nodded, “23, I think.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dani beamed, “Daddy said the same thing.”

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

“Your dad’s a smart guy,” I joked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s starting,” Hoseok announced.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I shrugged, “Ledecky is a great swimmer.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. Night, Chika.”

“Night, Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Crystal!” They all replied in unison.

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

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

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

“Butterfly,” Jordan replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Always cutting to the chase,” He joked.

I did not laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is my team.”

“And this is Jimin Park.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?” A soft voice called out.

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

“Yeah, can you see me?”

I shook my head, “Just your icon.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you see me?” He asked.

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

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

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

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

“No worries. I’m not in any rush.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Could’ve fooled me,” I teased.

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

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

“Talk to you later, Park.”

“See you, coach.”

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

Jimin: 👶

I did not respond until I had my flight booked.

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

He replied a few minutes later.

Jimin: Do you need a lot of space?

Me: Not really

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

I smiled. He really was a sweetheart.

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

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

Jimin: I was raised to respect the elderly.

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

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

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

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

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

First work then play, I told myself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Andy snorted, “He means well.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I pulled a face, “Audrey?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She smiled sadly, “I think you can.”

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

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sounds like we have company!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” I quickly followed behind him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hope the concert was nice.”

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

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

“Hey,” I replied lamely. “Eloise?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How old are they?” I asked.

“Almost 4.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t look very impressed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your hip might give out, granny.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I put your stuff in your room.”

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now I felt like an asshole.

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

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

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

That made him laugh, “What? Why?”

I shrugged, giggling with him.

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

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

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

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I nodded, “See you.”

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

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

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

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

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

"Likewise," I replied.

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

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

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

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

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georgeweasleyslostearhq · 1 year ago

Text

ENTRY- HER

Pairings: George Weasley x Fem! reader Summary: George reads the letters he wrote about you to himself throughout Hogwarts Warnings: mention of have a b0ner, boobs, tears, hinting to masturbation, the use of Y/n is used a few times, I'm sorry

George bent down on the floor of his bedroom, he looked beneath to bed and pulled out a box that had been left untouched since he and Fred opened up the shop before the war

he sat down and leaned against the side of his bed, opening the box and pulling out the book

he sighed before opening it, turning to the front page, the first day he met you

1 september 1989

Dear diary

it's the first of september, meaning it's the day Me and Fred go to Hogwarts.

Me and Fred couldn't find an empty compartment to sit at, and there was no way we were going to sit with Percy, or Charlie- as his was already full

but we Found one with a boy in our year, Lee. he's cool, he let us sit with him and gave us some candy- which made mine and Fred's nose bleed. I didn't think anybody other than me and Fred would care about jokes and pranks, but i guess I was wrong, cause Lee does too!

the train started moving and we waved to our parents. i think it was about five minutes later when i saw a girl walk past, still holding her bags and stuff, she looked lost

I opened the door and let her inside

she smiled and sat with us, she wasn't that interested in pranks, but she laughed at the stories we told her.

Her name is Y/n, and I have a feeling she's going to stick around for a while.

George smiled and turned to the next page, a year and a bit later.

December 12, 1990

Christmas is coming up soon and our friends are doing a muggle thing Lee told us about- secret santa

not all our friends wanted to do it, but the main ones like Y/n, Angelina, Alicia, then it's me, Fred and Lee, so there's six of us, even

I got Y/n, I still don't know what to get her, there was no money limit or anything like that, but I just don't want to get something too cheap- but that's probably all I can afford

she's a good friend and after the first day of first year, she's stayed by our sides, no one else let her in to sit with on the train but we did, so she stayed

I'm glad she did, she's funny. and as much as she says she hates doing it- she helps me and Fred with pranks a lot, mostly because she's smarter than us

I wonder if she got me for secret santa, the odds of that would be really low, but it's not impossible, i would accept anything she would give me with a smile

George had gotten you some candy from Honeydukes- and you, infact did not get him, instead you had Fred, to which you gave him a bunch of products from Zonko's

George flipped to the next page as he heard noise coming from outside, dinner was probably coming soon and George would have to hurry before he was caught reading these

November 28, 1991

My third year at Hogwarts started a few months ago, the Famous Harry Potter started his first year

my younger brother Ron is his Friend, along with a strange girl, Hermione?

her and Y/n get along pretty well, i think they go to the library together

speaking of Y/n, we've gotten closer, she would have to be my best friend- other than Fred. Lee is up there but he's been spending quite a bit of time with Alicia, I think there's something going on there, but i don't really know

Y/n decided to try out for the Quidditch team, due to mine and Fred's encouragement, she's really good, she should've been on the team last year, she's a chaser, and she's brilliant!

she's got the latest broom and it goes wicked fast, sometimes in training, we'll just race each other, she always wins though, mostly because I let her but who cares, it's worth it when i see the big smile on her face when she rubs it in

Fred started to tease me about it, saying i'm being soft.

I'm just being nice

October 13, 1992

fourth year started last month, school is getting a bit harder.

Fred Invited Y/n over in the holidays, she stayed at our house for about a week, I was a bit nervous that she would be overwhelmed by our family but she fit in great, Mum loved her and said she should come over for breaks from now on.

so she'll be coming over for christmas this december.

she stayed in Ginny's room, although she snuck into our room to mess around with jokes before she'd actually go to bed, I think mum knew that we did that because she glared at us when we would come down for breakfast the next mornings, she wouldn't say anything, just put her hands on her hips when we yawned

she's really cool, she's really pretty too, i don't think i've ever noticed it before, but she is, and Fred doesn't mind telling her that.

I think he fancies her because they always giggle to themselves

I don't know why but I would always get this pit in my stomach every time I saw them alone together.

He talks about her to me before going to sleep in our dorms, it's starting to piss me off, it was getting annoying because I just want to go to sleep and he'd start talking about something funny she said to him that day and he'd just laugh

i cover my eyes with my pillow every time to try and block him out, though it never really works

George laughed at that entry, looking back on it now, he should've known what the feeling meant

September 5, 1993

we got back from Holidays a few days ago, Y/n couldn't come over because she went over to Italy with her family

she had gotten boobs and the tight low cut shirt she wore to the train station really left little to the imagination, I know I sound weird and like a pervert, I shouldn't think this way about my best friend

but I can barely make eye contact with her anymore without my eyes lowering to her chest.

she's stunning and everything about her makes my heart flutter now.

she also had a slight tan and her hair was longer, she's always playing with it and I can't help the way my mind begins to wonder when i stare at her

she's making my body feel different, the way she bites her lip when concentrating, the way her eyes flutter when she looks up at me to talk

she's using lip gloss too, one that makes her lips look really kissable

I hate to admit it but i sat next to her in class yesterday and my dick decided it was a good time to get a boner, as painful as it was, all i could do was push it down.

she had noticed my uncomfortable state and in her sweet, innocent voice she asked if i was alright

"you ok there, Georgie?" she giggled

I could only nod my head.

and as horrible as it was, later that night, when laying in my bed, I couldn't help but ease the pain to the thought of her.

September 20, 1993

I fancy her, I've completely and utterly fallen in love with her,

it sounds like its just because her body has changed but it's so much more than that

she is kind and funny and sarcastic. and beautiful, like HOT.

too bad she has a boyfriend now, he doesn't deserve her and he wouldn't treat her half as good as I would if I were hers

Fred found out, turns out he never fancied her, but he just cares for her, as friends.

Fred thinks I should tell her, but I can't and I never will

Update- she broke up with him!

George laughed at the update at the end, which was 2 months later and flipped to the next page

December 6, 1994

McGonagall told us about the Yule ball today, a dance

my eyes were fixated on Y/n as she sat down laughing with Angelina across the room as I stood with Fred

Fred told me he liked Angelina a few weeks ago and I'm sure he'll ask her to the ball

Ron got called on to demonstrate the dance and she whistled at him, making him glare at her, to which she laughed

when the class was dismissed, Y/n came up to us and started joking around

I couldn't help but notice the way she has the top buttons of her shirt undone, and her tie a bit loose

it was getting rather chilly and she wasn't even wearing a jumper

I asked her if she was cold and she shook her head with a smile

"I like the cold, George, you should know that" she giggled, nudging me

she was rather short compared to me, the top of her just barely met my shoulder so she always looks up when talking to me

I've also noticed she likes to roll her skirt up, so merlin forbid she bends down to pick something up.

she's also gotten a bit more touchy, not just with me but with the rest of our friend group

her hugs would only happen coming back from breaks and holidays but now she'll hug you almost everyday in the mornings

her hugs have always been nice, but the way I can practically feel her boobs pressing up against me makes it all the better.

December 18, 1994

most people I know already have dates to the ball, Fred had asked Angelina to the ball within the first few days of hearing about it

Y/n has been asked a few times but she's politely declined every one

Fred keeps pressuring me to ask her already and I strictly telling him no, she'd reject me like every other guy whos asked her, and then it would make it weird.

We're also doing another secret santa this year, I got Alicia

Alicia is...nice? she just has a really big flirting problem, and that's not with everyone, just me

she asked me to the Ball a few days ago, and as much as I didn't want to go alone, I still said no

She's not really my type, and as much as i try to make her stop flirting with me, she just keeps doing it, I speak for all of our friend group when I say it's annoying, and I know that because they've all said it

it's nothing against her, but it's just weird

and Y/n doesn't mind talking about it, making jokes and stuff

the only person i have ever felt something for has been Y/n, and I don't want it to be anybody else

George remembers that week like it was all yesterday.

George was sat on the Gryffindor couch, your head in his lap as you told him about your day

"but anyway, why haven't you asked anybody to the ball!?" you sat up, sitting on your knees next to him

"I- I don't know, why haven't you said yes to anybody?" George questioned

"I don't like any of them, barely friends with most of them" you shrugged

"w- well do you? like anybody?" George stuttered

George noticed the small blush rising to your cheeks

"uh- not really" you smiled sheepishly "you?"

George's heartbeat quickened as he grew nervous

does he tell her?

"not really" he responded, copying your words

"you should go with Alicia" you nudged him shoulder, making him roll his eyes

"merlin" he cursed under his breath as you giggled

"only kidding of course..unless you actually want to?" you frowned

"if i wanted to go with her I would've said yes"

you smiled

"it's getting pretty late, i'm going to head to bed" you yawned

George nodded his head

"alright, goodnight"

"night, Georgie" you kissed his cheek before getting up and going to the dormitories

George stared off at the fire as the kiss lingered on his cheek, making his skin feel funny, a good funny

a few days later, Fred pushed George into asking you

"just go talk to her, this is probably your only chance!" Fred whispered before shoving George into you

you stumbled forward and almost bumped into Angie, who had to pause her sentence

you looked back and saw George

"sorry" he apologised

you grinned and gave him a hug "it's fine!"

Angelina saw Fred look at her from behind and walked over to him, leaving you with George

you stared up at George to see what he wanted but he only looked back at you nervously

"is there something you wanted, George?" you chuckled

"I want a date to the ball" he sighs, finally saying it, knowing that Fred would kick his ass if he didn't

"I'm sure Alicia will take you" you smirked

George licked his lips and thought of what to say

"no- no ok um...do you want to go with me? no! I would love if you would accompany me- wait ok. I really want you to go with me to the ball...I- I uh-"

December 20, 1994

I asked her to the ball, after what feels like forever being in love with her, I asked her

Fred pushed me into doing it

so I did, I sounded like a complete fool and I wish I could've said it better, word it so I didn't sound so stupid

maybe if I did that, she would've said yes

better yet- I had also admitted that I loved her, that I have for a long time. I had gotten so nervous that I outed myself

she just stood there in surprise before I ran off in complete and utter embarrassment

December 25, 1994

I went with her, it turns out that she was going to say yes but I ran away before she could've said anything

she told me she loved me too, and she made me the happiest man in all of Hogwarts

it was the Ball a few hours ago, you should've seen her, she was stunning- a type of stunning that when you see her, you can't say anything out of shock on how beautiful she is (which I did)

I can't describe the feeling I get when I'm with her- or see her, but it's overwhelming

i feel faint now every time I see her

she told me she would go with me the day after I had asked her in that stupid way. that was when she told me she loved me

she actually loves me.

I don't know how I can manage to make her love me but I'm grateful- and cautious

what if I mess up?

but that doesn't matter, we're not together

Update: jan 5- I asked her out, she said Yes!

February 19, 1996

Valentines day was 5 days ago, Y/n was obviously my Valentine and we had a great day, I took her to that tea shop in Hogsmeade she's been talking about for a while, it was very...pink and not the type of romantic that I like.

but she enjoyed it so I loved it.

we've been dating for a little over a year and it's great, I am absolutely in love with her and I think she is too

she's mad at me right now though

Today, at Quidditch, I beat up Draco Malfoy for bad mouthing, making Umbridge ban Me, Harry and Fred from the team, which is total bullshit!

anyway, I didn't get badly injured, Malfoy can't punch for the life of him

I only got a cut on my lip but Y/n yelled at me when walking back to the castle

I told her I don't really care I got kicked off but she still told me off, she's cute when she's mad

and I can't be mad at her for worrying about me, especially when she said I looked hot when beating Malfoy up

she let that slip from her mouth and hit my arm when I laughed at her

Merlin I love her, and I never want that to change, so just so you know. you are an idiot if you EVER LEAVE HER.

Fred and I are finalising our plan on leaving Hogwarts to start the shop up

Y/n knows about it, I've reassured her that we'll see each other, but I'm still worried she'll break up with me so I can focus on the shop

but right now I have to make it up to her for getting in a fight so.

April 21, 1996

she told me she wants to break up, she said it wasn't because of us, but because she wants to focus on our futures

I refused, it's the day before me and Fred leave.

I don't want to leave her, it feels like I only just got her and screw anyone who will try to take her away.

I told her I didn't want that and then it turned into a fight

she said she only wants what's best for us, but she is the best for me, and I will try to be the best for her

she left my dorm and I don't know where she went, but I want to see her, to tell her it will work.

I knew this was going to happen, but i didn't want it to.

Update- I found her and I begged her to stay with me, I told her that she should come live with me and Fred when she graduates and she didn't know what to say, she said she'll think about it

June 26, 1996

she moved in with us, she decided to stay with me and live with me, all her things are here now and she's in the bathroom right now, going through it and putting things in there, I couldn't be more happy.

I have the girl of my dreams to wake up beside me and go to sleep in my arms, forever

"George! dinner!" He heard Fred yell out before the door opened

"George..." he heard Fred sigh sadly

George felt the tears start to prickle in his eyes as he thought of you and how much he loved you

"I told her not to go...why didn't she listen?" George asked as his tears met the page from a few years prior, before the war

the same war that took you away from him

Fred walked into the room and sat next to his twin

"come on, I told you not to find this" Fred said, taking the book away.

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

it's been a while! i'm sorryyyyy

#george weasley x fem #george weasley #oliver phelps #x fem!reader #imagines #oneshot #harry potter universe #george weasley imagine #fred weasley #yule ball #harry potter imagines

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cantstoptheimagines · 1 year ago

Text

Golden Boy (Dani Rojas | Ted Lasso)

Summary — All Dani wants is your attention.

Warnings & Other Tags ➳ Fluff; co-workers to lovers; some canon-typical cursing (mostly from Roy); feigning excuses to see one’s love; Dani being Dani (a golden retriever); Roy being a frustrated, unintentional wingman; Reader is a physical trainer for AFC Richmond.

Notes ➳ Word Count is 1,735. ➳ Reader is gender neutral (they/them). ➳ This work has a visual edit!

“He’s doing it again.”

Ted furrowed his eyebrows. His eyes sharpened beneath his dark sunglasses. Next to him, Roy and Beard had their attention focused on something other than the players on the training pitch. Nate was merely shaking his head. Ted, however, felt his face burst into a cheerful expression when he noticed what he gained their attention.

Across the pitch, Dani Rojas was very slowly going through some drills, weaving between some cones with an occasional limp as he gently kicked a ball. It would be very unlike him to be so subtle during practice, if he didn’t have his preferred audience, that is.

From the sidelines, you were watching him carefully. Your hands rested on your hips while your eyes were unwaveringly set on his left ankle. It was something he had been complaining to you about for a few days.

“That’s the third fucking time this week.”

Roy’s grumbles forced Ted out of his thoughts. He tilted his head and grinned, “Oh, c’mon, Roy! Don’t tell me you never had a crush someone? Dani’s just experiencin’ some classic symptoms of puppy love right now. I say we let this run its course.”

Ted ignored the way Roy rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. Even from the other side of the training pitch, it was easy to see how well you and Dani got along. Dani was always happy, of course, but whenever you came around, his smile had a tendency of becoming ten times brighter.

But what was good for Dani wasn’t always good for the team, much to Ted’s disappointment. Richmond’s happy-go-lucky striker had gone from Greyhound to Golden Retriever the moment he met you. And the fact that you were one of the team’s physical trainers didn’t help. You practically had Dani at your beck and call without even realizing it.

And Dani was either too shy to start a conversation without having an excuse for doing so prepared or he was genuinely turning into the biggest klutz on the team. After his ‘injuries’ began occurring on an almost daily basis, however, two things became clear.

The first being that, despite his sweet disposition and undeniable good nature, Dani Rojas was a damn good liar when he wanted to be. It had taken everyone weeks to see through his façade.

And you, who seemingly had no clue about Dani’s stunts, had officially become what was potentially the worst type of person in all of sports. The type that every locker room loathed and every coach feared. A distraction.

“Oi! Rojas!”

Ted jumped at the sound of Roy’s sudden angry shout. Despite being on the other side of the training pitch, Dani did as well. While Ted had become lost in his thoughts, Dani had stopped doing his drills altogether. Instead, he had moved to stand mere inches away from you, smiling brightly as he absentmindedly played with the hem of your shirt.

It was something you didn’t even seem to notice, but his teammates, along with Roy, certainly did.

“Get back to fucking practice!”

Ted watched as Dani bid you a quick, quiet farewell. He then scurried onto the pitch to join the rest of his team. If he had a tail, it would certainly be between his legs.

“Sorry, Coach!” he called, face flushing with embarrassment. “Let’s play, mis amigos!”

This was a small victory for Roy. He let out a satisfied grunt, watching with his hawk-like eyes as you quickly made yourself scarce. Ted, meanwhile, couldn’t help but give his fellow coach an exasperated stare. Beard tried to keep a smirk off his face while Nate simply shifted awkwardly.

“Really, Roy?” asked Ted. “Really?”

The man in question scoffed, furrowing his eyebrows with a scowl, “What? He’s back on the pitch, isn’t he? That’s where he’s meant to be! Not off chatting on the sidelines!”

Ted shook his head, quietly muttering, “Seems to me you just don’t want Dani to find true love.”

“Now wait just a fucking minute—!”

“Uh, guys,” said Beard, voice shaking, “hate to interrupt the friendly chat, but I think we’ve got a problem.”

It was then the other coaches realized what he was referring to. On the training pitch, Dani was on the grass, groaning loudly as he clutched his ankle.

“Oh, shit!” exclaimed Roy.

Each of them quickly ran onto the training pitch. Nate quickly grabbed his phone before following, ready to call for help if it ended up being an emergency.

The players had surrounded Dani, trying their best to help him. His face was twisted in pain. He curled into himself and rolled onto his side. Beard kneeled next to him, removing his sunglasses in order to get a clearer view of the situation.

“What’s going on, Rojas?” he asked. “What happened?”

“¡Ayúdame! Coach, please!” exclaimed Dani. “¡Mi tobillo! The right!”

Nate winced, “Do I need to call—?”

“Whistle! Whistle! Hold it!” shouted Roy, eyebrows sinking even deeper into his irritated expression. “I thought it was your left ankle that was fucking you up? Not the right?”

Even Dani himself paused at that. The chaos of the moment dimmed. He could see smirks growing on the faces of some of his teammates while others simply shook their heads and returned to practice.

“That’s it!” grumbled Roy, reaching down and roughly pulling Dani to his feet. “C’mon! We’re settling this shit right now!”

Ted glanced at both Beard and Nate, who each had concern written across their faces. Meanwhile, Roy was practically dragging Dani by the back of his uniform in the direction of the Richmond clubhouse. Ted grimaced at the sight, and muttered, “Why don’t you two stay here and watch the team? I’m gonna try to help ‘em sort this whole thing out.”

Before either of them could so much as blink, Ted had spun around to follow an angry Roy and a shaking Dani. His quick pace led him into the clubhouse. His footsteps echoed loudly as he did his best to catch up to the other two men.

Ted caught up just in time to witness Roy roughly opening the door to your office. It slammed against the wall so hard that Ted wouldn’t be surprised if there was a hole left behind.

You nearly wet yourself at the sudden scare. Your heart pounded within your chest. Adrenaline, along with complete and total confusion, flooded through your body as Roy forced Dani to stand in front of your desk. You hardly even noticed Ted watching the scene from the doorway, anxiously biting his nails.

“You’ve become a fucking problem,” glared Roy.

The disgusted expression that crossed your face nearly made Ted sick. Your lips curled and your eyes narrowed, “And you haven’t? You nearly ripped my door off, dickface!”

Roy paused, seemingly taking in your words as he stared at you. Finally, he grunted, “Look, we just need you to fix him.”

Your eyes followed in the direction he suddenly began pointing. When your gaze met Dani’s brown eyes, Ted and Roy noticed the way your glare softened.

“Dani, I told you this already,” you chuckled, shaking your head. “I think your ankle’s fine. Just wrap it up and elevate it tonight with some ice, you’ll be good for the game—”

“He’s not injured,” interrupted Roy. “The team’s ‘golden boy’ here is a liar—”

“Okay!” exclaimed Ted. The look of displeasure once again blooming within your eyes gave him a reason to finally leap into the conversation. “Now, I don’t think Roy meant that in the way it sounded.”

Your shoulders seemed to lose their tension as he spoke. Instead of glaring at Roy, you gave your full attention to Ted. But honestly, Ted wasn’t sure if that was better or worse in their situation.

“We just think Dani’s got somethin’ to tell you about that ankle of his,” he continued, and then he gestured to the footballer in question. “Ain’t that right, Mr. Rojas?”

Dani, who had been admiring you from his place in front of your desk, froze when the three of you looked at him expectantly. He twiddled his thumbs at the sudden attention, “It is true. I have been lying to you, my friend, but I meant no harm by it. My reasons were innocent! ¡Prometo!”

Dani admired the confused expression that overwhelmed your features. You always looked so wonderful to him, no matter the emotion. He only hoped you wouldn’t be upset with him.

With an encouraging nod from Ted, he continued, “My ankle was never injured. I have been lying in order to, well... I only wanted to spend time with you. But my actions seem to have only brought frustration to my teammates. I am sorry.”

You tilted your head with a small smile when his voice trailed off. Leaning back in your chair, you chuckled, “Dani, you’re so sweet... but I already knew you were faking.”

“You did?!”

You blinked in surprise at the sound of all three men shouting in unison. They stared back at you in shock, though Roy in particular seemed to be feeling some irritation as well. You tried not to grin as Ted ripped off his sunglasses, eyes wide with disbelief. And the way Dani tightly gripped the edge of your desk, leaning forward with a dropped jaw, was also quite amusing.

“Uh, yeah! You footballers aren’t exactly what I would call subtle when it comes to flirting,” you shrugged, shaking your head at them. “Plus, Colin told me about it weeks ago when he came in for me to look at his shoulder. I’ve basically just been waiting for you to gather up enough courage to ask me out, but it seems like I’m gonna have to take the first step. So, Dani, why don’t you pick me up at seven?”

Ted had never seen someone look so happy. Dani smiled so excitedly, Ted thought he might put the sun out of business.

“Yes, yes!” exclaimed Dani, back to his usual enthusiastic attitude. “A million times yes! I will see you tonight! Oh, I cannot wait to tell mis amigos! Let’s go, coaches!”

He whooped and cheered loudly as he quickly left your office. Ted and Roy watched him leave. While Ted sported a wide, happy grin, Roy looked on in bewilderment. After a moment, however, he turned to you with yet another glare.

“You couldn’t have fucking done that sooner?!”

#2023 #ted lasso #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso imagines #ted lasso x reader #dani rojas imagine #dani rojas imagines #dani rojas x reader #golden boy

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w2soneshots · 6 months ago

Text

Accident -KSI

words: 0.7k+

warnings: angst, skiing accident, hospitals, recovery.

summary: when abroad skiing for a sidemen video you have an accident and everyone’s worried about you.

notes: I love this request and I feel like JJ is such a cutie so he would definitely react like this💞. I hope you enjoy my loves!!😊🫶🏼

Liked by tobjizzle, taliamar and 521,870 others

y/username: how it started vs how it's going😭

-comments-

ksi: ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

freyanightingale: my poor girl🥺

y/nfanpage21: omfg what happened? Are you ok?

user31083649: isn't she filming for a sidemen vid?

-> user29736105: yea. I'm not sure if they'll post it now tho🤷‍♂️

"Shit! Babe, are you okay?!" JJ shouted, racing over to me. I could barely hear him. My ears were ringing and my head hurt. "y/n? y/n can you hear me? Answer me!" He scrambled as I began to come back into consciousness. "I'm ok." I croaked. My voice coming out much more quiet than I thought it would. "Fucking hell! You scared the shit out of me." I tried to sit up, a sharp pain spread through my leg. I hissed. JJ started to panic for a second time. "Don't move! What is it? Your leg?" I nodded. "Ok I'm gonna call an ambulance."

It felt a little bit like a blur after that. I was rushed to the nearby hospital where they completely checked me over. Almost an hour after we arrived the doctor came back with the results of their tests. "So, you have a concussion which is most likely from the impact of the fall and is the reason you blacked out. Your leg is severely bruised since that was what you landed on but nothing is broken. You are very lucky." She explained sweetly. A weight lifted from my shoulders. JJ let out a relived breath. "Thank you." I smiled. "You'll need to rest and take it easy for the next few weeks but you should be just fine."

We flew home the next day and I was treated like a complete princess. JJ cancelled everything in order to take care of me. I slept, watched reality tv, cuddled with our little dog and ate the food JJ brought to me, which mostly consisted of uber eats since I'm usually the cook. Yinka (JJ's mum) came round to bring me some home cooked food and to make sure that I was okay, which was really sweet. I got many texts from all of my friends along with the boys who were really concerned when they saw I'd had an accident.

I wasn't initially supposed to be going on the trip but Vik became Ill so they asked if I could step in last minute, since every time I go on there channel the video does really well. I agreed and we left for the airport the next day.

I spent the first day on the bad team with Simon and Harry which they both felt bad about but I'm really close with Simon since I've known him for so many years so I wasn't that bothered. I had to spend the night in a tiny room with them, me on the top bunk. Then JJ and Harry swapped so I ended up remaining on the bad team with Simon and JJ, I wasn't really mad though because I can't ski and I'd rather have the funny experience with JJ.

Then only one hour in I lost control and practically rolled off of a small snowy cliff. I landed in the snow after only falling about three metres but I was going full speed, doing something I wasn't familiar with. They asked if I wanted the video to be cancelled and I told them that was ridiculous. I fell on the last day and wasn't injured that badly plus the whole thing was caught on camera so it was great content.

"I'm seriously so glad you're ok. I was really worried for a second." JJ said quietly as he gently ran his hand through my hair. I yawned as we were about to go to sleep. "Could you imagine if I had died? I can see the headlines now, 'KSI's girlfriend dies while filming sidemen Sunday'" I played it out with my hands. He chuckled. "I love you. Good night." He kissed my forehead. I nuzzled closer into his shoulder. "I love you too." I whispered as I drifted off to sleep.

Liked by ksi, faithloisak and 410,732 others

y/username: thank you for your lovely messages but I'm ok, just realised I'm shit at skiing😘

-comments-

miniminter: committed to the content

-> y/username: a little too committed😂

taliamar: side note: you look stunning!

y/nfanpage21: I'm glad she's alive x

user71209374: the puppy🥹💕

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fen-luciel · 3 months ago

Text

The Devil

AnakinXreader

Warnings:slow burn/implicit smut/ a bit of gore at the end

Summary:A love story born amidst the war, with a fallen angel.

[Support the story on Ao3 Here]

One thing I had learned about Anakin Skywalker is that he was always ready to help those in need. Sometimes, I saw it more as a curse, sacrificing himself for others, with a reassuring smile on his face, ready to leap into action.

Many mistook that care for arrogance, but I had always seen beyond it.

The jokes, the gestures, the ways, all a mask to make you feel better even in the worst moments.

He was radiant.

I met him in person purely by chance. I was assigned to the same mission at the last second. I was supposed to leave with other clones to a war zone, but some human traffickers had appeared out of nowhere, taking advantage of the precarious conditions of the planets that survived the separatists' attacks.

The Jedi were being sent everywhere every second, so it was just a coincidence that I was free at that moment.

The first time I saw him, I recognized him immediately, like a bright star in the cold universe, his smile warmed me more than anything.

His former master introduced us. We didn't have much time for pleasantries given the sudden crisis we were about to resolve. We said goodbye to our friends, and with a small platoon, we set off for the last planet that had been marked as a contact point.

He didn't know me, of course. I wasn't particularly famous for great feats in the war or interactive in the more political sphere. I struggled to see myself as a Jedi—I was more of a soldier... more replaceable.

But Anakin didn't make me feel that way.

Soon that evening, lost in deep space while everyone else slept, we started playing cards. He was terrible, winning one game out of ten. By the sixth game, he started losing on purpose, trying to annoy me with stupid questions that he repeated over and over, but I found it hilarious, he was... light.

For a moment, he made me feel like a young girl and not a soldier in war.

Anyway, I couldn't say if something between us started right there, he made it seem natural, as if we had been friends forever, and I adored every second of it.

The problem was that the mission turned out to be much worse than expected—a network of kidnappings and sales of human and alien beings had been created right under our noses without the Order realizing it. What was supposed to be an intervention lasting a couple of weeks turned into a well-organized outpost for more than five months.

The atmosphere was mostly tense during the day. We set traps in wooded areas, devised capture plans, intercepted calls, but above all, we tried to save as many civilians as possible—women, the elderly, children—we never stopped.

At the end of the evening, we were so exhausted that we barely exchanged a few words. Anakin and I had our cots in the same house, the base was hidden among the ruins of a city bombed by the separatists long ago. We had tried to make the place livable as much as possible, but we couldn't afford to attract attention, so we just dusted it off.

The place was stale and suffocating. One of the two windows had been boarded up with wooden planks, the power had gone out along with everything else, and we kept a small dim lantern in the darkest corner to avoid attracting unwanted glances from outside.

I didn't realize that night after night, Anakin moved his sleeping bag slightly closer to mine.

When I noticed, we were barely an arm's length apart. I never said anything, it made me feel less alone.

I slept better at night.

One thing I noticed was the lost look in the void that sometimes froze him on those few evenings when we played at least one game of cards.

He was silent, tense, it usually happened after we saved people. Normally, this should have made us happy, and at least the rest of the team was, but he suddenly got lost in his thoughts, closed in on himself, and didn't talk to me anymore.

"Are you okay?"

Silence.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Silence.

"It went well, right?"

Still silence.

I let it go, finished the game, and lay down, turning my back on him, too proud to admit that I felt rejected.

Rejected by what, I couldn't tell.

It was precisely on one of those alcohol-fueled evenings that the turning point happened. We had returned exhausted from a mission that had allowed us to save at least a hundred lives. We celebrated with some wine stolen from an abandoned house, but Anakin did not show up, and I was too irritated by his isolation to go knock on our door.

We drank late into the night. I returned to the little house with my mind slightly foggy. Anakin had turned off the light and was already asleep. I took off my clothes with some difficulty before slipping under the duvet, ready to fall asleep, but a warm arm silently snaked around my waist, "I'm sorry." he whispered in a hoarse voice.

I realized he had been crying.

I bit my lip, afraid to dare too much, the alcohol was confusing my senses, his touch so light yet intimate, to which I was not accustomed... so I just told him I wasn't angry, that I forgave him.

I slept divinely, but the next morning we said nothing about what had happened.

A few days later, he pretended to casually end up close to my body before wrapping an arm around my waist before sleeping. So we started lying in each other's arms, seeking a bit of warmth and comfort. I kept telling myself it was normal in our situation, the war was wearing us down, and we needed contact... I needed his contact.

As the months went by, I noticed that something was off about the perfect figure of the Chosen One.

His sudden mood swings, the strange talks... the hatred.

The hatred I saw in his eyes when we captured the gang members.

The visceral rage.

I had met killers with a less menacing air.

Of course, no one was perfect, and being a Jedi meant fighting the dark side every day, but from a figure like his, something different was expected, more like a flawless and fearless hero, yet he seemed the most fragile of all.

I thought that maybe power like his had a great burden on the other side of the balance and stopped doubting his faith.

It was around the third month that the turning point happened.

I had been injured on my side, the burn made me wince with every movement. Bandaged and treated, I was forced to stay in bed to rest for a few days.

Anakin was deathly silent as he caressed my bandaged side, his body lying behind mine, head resting on his hand and free fingers gently brushing against me. I could feel him thinking with his eyes closed.

"I'm okay," I murmured softly so as not to break the silence.

He exhaled slowly, moving closer, pressing his chest against my back. "If I had been there, it wouldn't have happened."

I shivered, feeling the breath behind my ear, his hoarse voice cradling me, making me feel warm... safe.

"We're both knights. I can take care of myself." I was almost on the verge of falling asleep, but I held on to reply. I didn't like knowing he was lost in thought on his own; his face darkened when it happened.

He leaned down to kiss my bare shoulder, I held back from commenting, it seemed that every step we took together was a slow descent on a path with no return. I should have told him not to do it, to stop, but... that warmth in my chest made me feel alive.

"I know. I'm not saying you need me, I know you can take care of yourself." he sighed heavily before placing another kiss on the skin slightly higher than the previous one. "It's just that when you protect others, it seems like you don't care about yourself. I want to be there for you."

That warm, dense feeling growing in my stomach.

I turned slightly to look at him, we were so close that our noses almost touched.

"I have given my life to the Jedi cause. The good of others comes before mine." I reached out to gently stroke his cheek, he leaned into the touch. The faint orange light illuminated the side of his face, looking at me with such intensity that my heart trembled.

"Then I'll take care of you."

Our lips almost touched, I didn't even notice that his hand had slightly moved my shirt up, the tips of his fingers burning on my bare skin.

I wish I could say something romantic like "I don't know if I got closer first or he did, maybe we came together" or similar, but it would have been a shameful lie.

I was the one to throw myself on his lips.

I realized while we were locked in a slow kiss that he had me wrapped around his finger from the moment I met him months earlier.

All the admiration, the respect, was nothing compared to what I felt looking at him, not as a Jedi or a hero, but as a man.

The blond curls, the chiseled physique, the sharp features, the defined jawline, the deep eyes, his skin, his scent, it was everything.

He got under your skin, and you wanted more.

I wanted more.

He took his hand off my side to stroke my cheek, our faces pressed together as we shared the same air. I had no prior experience with kisses, yet he made it seem natural. I just had to follow the trail of his lips on mine, the light bites, the tongue in my mouth.

"I need you." he whispered on my skin before kissing my neck, leaving wet marks. I trembled weakly from the wounds and his touch, holding back sighs and moans as he opened my robe, his body covering mine, the moonlight illuminating his sculpted muscles.

I had no regrets the next morning.

I knew what had happened was dangerous, forbidden, but when he got dressed next to me in the early morning light, I couldn't help but admire his golden skin, still wanting.

He gave me a kiss on the forehead, told me to rest, and left, giving me one of those breathtaking smiles.

No, I didn't regret anything.

When they allowed me to go back into action, everything seemed to have returned to normal.

Except in the evening, when those masks of indifference we wore fell away, and we found ourselves in each other's arms: the kisses, the touches, the breaths we shared.

But above all, the looks.

Sometimes tears welled up in my eyes when he held me to his chest, that feeling that tightened my throat, it was so beautiful it hurt, and he devoured me with the intensity of a thousand suns. I burned under that gaze; he held me tight, leaving bruises on my skin, and for a moment, I... I saw him.

I saw him, without his masks, without the lies he used to protect himself, and something deep in my conscience screamed a warning at me.

Flashes of that hatred I'd seen in him crossed my mind, the anger, a visceral contempt, sometimes arrogant. That deep look was more revealing than a thousand words, and instinct told me to look, to see how far that abyss went, but I was terrified, not for him, but for me.

If I found a beast hidden in the darkness, what would I do?

No, I didn't want to think about it. Every time I lost myself in the tangle of our bodies, I would look away, maybe close my eyes or hide my face in his neck, anything to avoid looking... to avoid looking at him.

I realized my mistake when it was too late to turn back.

We were nearing the end of the conflict, the majority of the population had been brought to safety, many criminals captured or fallen in battle. It was a great result, except that all this pressure made the few remaining who were resisting us increasingly nervous and daring, as if they didn't care if they would die in the shootout, the important thing was to do as much damage as possible, as if on a whim.

The last month, in particular, was a real trench war. Only a handful of slavers remained to be stopped, but they had barricaded themselves inside the abandoned Senate building with the last hostages, of course, the easiest ones to drag along, the children.

The place had been fortified for some time, and even though we had a map, we couldn't know where they were keeping the hostages or, worse, if they had already killed them, keeping up the façade just to buy time.

We hypothesized every kind of plan, but none gave us the certainty of getting the hostages back. It would have been easy to bomb the area at this point, they were so dangerous that the Republic wouldn't have mourned their loss. We had also thought of isolating them until they came out from exhaustion and hunger, but again, if there really were those children, they would have been the first to suffer.

After two days of discarded plans, I tried everything.

"Let's go back to the first hypothesis. I'll make my way through the breach in the ceiling, look for the hostages, and send you a signal when I have them safe." We were all gathered around the building's holographic map. Next to me, Anakin huffed, "Don't even think about it. I'll go instead."

I sighed, smiling weakly "No offense, General Skywalker, but you're not particularly good at crawling along corridors." The remark drew a laugh from all the clones around us, who agreed with me, but Anakin wasn't laughing at all.

"I don't want you going in there alone, it's too much, even for a Jedi. They're waiting for us, they'll have set traps—" He started, waving his hand over the table, but I interrupted him. "They definitely have. But it's our best option. It's decided."

I didn't wait for a reply, knowing he could argue with me all day if necessary. I kept myself busy organizing the troops for that evening. Anakin moved tensely through the camp, ready to spring into action at the slightest sign. I knew he wasn't happy with that choice at all, but I wouldn't back down.

We left late in the evening; by then, I knew the map by heart. The building had three floors and a basement; all the side windows were barred, so it was impossible to tell where the children were. I would descend from the skylight above the chamber of deputies and from there explore each floor from top to bottom until I found the hostages... or their remains in the worst-case scenario.

The first part of the plan was fairly simple, but as soon as I stepped inside, I noticed something strange. Patrolling the corridors were droids built from makeshift materials, fragile-looking, yes, but armed.

I had to turn off the radio for fear of receiving a call at the wrong moment. I needed to check every room and descend a level until I was sure no one was there, and deactivating the droids would work against me since they would realize someone had entered.

On the ground floor, I saw the men who were left, all sitting around an old board game, looking either drunk or on the verge of falling asleep. I managed to send a brief message before heading to the basement.

Some walls had partially collapsed, and the narrow corridors made it difficult to move stealthily, but I stayed alert, ready to spring into action. I reached the end where I knew the vault that held the most important documents and money was located. It was a room large enough to hold more than one person, and at this point, it was my only chance.

The dim light in the room wasn’t much, but I finally saw it, the heavy metal door sealing the vault.

I knocked on the surface, hoping to get a response, and to my joy, I heard frightened gasps. I called out, hoping they could hear me; on the other hand, I could only make out vague murmurs, but when they started banging on the wall from the other side, I had no doubt it was them.

I ignited the lightsaber to begin cutting a hole in the surface, quickly warning them to move away, hoping they understood what I was saying, and very slowly, I began to cut through the metal.

It all happened in a moment. I felt it in my gut before I even heard the sound, I spun around, deflecting a shot aimed at me.

In front of me, one of those men, accompanied by three droids, pointed their weapons at me. I was at a disadvantage, given the tight space in which I had to defend myself. I parried more shots before inevitably losing the rhythm. I didn’t see where I was hit, but I felt it on my skin—the burning sensation spreading like an oil stain, the throbbing pain, and finally, my heavy fall to the ground.

When I turned to face him, something was thrown at me, a disturbing click around my neck made me flinch.

"Finally," the man approached me menacingly. I got up quickly to defend myself, but suddenly, an electric shock coursed through my body, knocking me back to the ground. I screamed in surprise as I tried in vain to tear off the collar.

"Don’t try it, Jedi, not even you can get rid of these."

I lay on the ground, breathless, my hands trembling uncontrollably, and a dull ache in my bones.

"You have no chance..." I panted in pain, moving my arm near the pocket where I kept the communicator, slowly activating it.

However, the movement caught his attention, and I was forcefully shoved to the ground, the device falling a few meters away from me as the man reactivated the shock.

I thrashed on the ground in jerky movements, keeping my mouth shut for fear of biting my tongue as I tried to crawl towards the communicator, a ringing in my ears.

"Bitch!" The shock stopped, but I had no time to recover before a kick hit me in the stomach, knocking out the little breath I had left. He bent over my body, gripping my hands around my neck. I wanted to push him away, but my fingers were still trembling uncontrollably. "I don’t need to keep you awake to use you as a bargaining chip. I’ll make you regret what you put us through!"

I kicked uselessly, my head feeling heavy, and my vision darkening, my lungs struggling for air. I tried to claw at his wrists, but I was losing strength.

It was when I was on the verge of passing out that something suddenly pushed him away from me.

I coughed forcefully, gasping for air. I turned onto my hands and knees, trembling and still unable to stand. I didn't understand what was happening, but I was glad to feel my fingertips again.

I coughed a few more times when I noticed something was off—or rather, something strange was happening next to me, judging by the sound I heard.

Like... something wet, an eerie crunching sound that I couldn't quite place.

I turned, finally more clear-headed, and almost had a heart attack.

Anakin was there—I figured he had used the Force to push the man away from me—but what I saw in front of me was worse than anything I had ever experienced.

I saw him with his back to me, crouched over the man's body... which wasn't moving anymore.

I crawled toward them, reaching out a hand to his shoulder, trying to shake him. "Anakin, leave him, we need to open the door—" and then I saw them more clearly.

He had pushed his thumbs into the man's eyes, which disappeared up to the knuckles in the sockets as he gripped the sides of his face. There was blood everywhere—it was dripping from the eye sockets, the mouth, even the back of his head, which was being slammed into the floor that slowly stained a bright red. I swear I saw his skull unnaturally crushed.

The air left my lungs, a wave of nausea rising in my throat that I held back at the last second.

"Please, let him go, A-Anakin, p-please—" I stammered as I clung to his arm, trying in vain to pull him away. I gripped the front of his tunic, but he seemed immovable.

"Anakin, I'm fine, let him go, please, y-you've killed him—" I cried, tears falling before I even realized.

He finally released his grip, letting the man's head fall into the pool of blood with a wet thud. He turned to look at me, and I instinctively tried to back away, frightened, falling onto my backside because my knees were still weak. I couldn’t look away, but now I saw it as clear as day—that monster he hid inside, that flame I had glimpsed when he was angry, or when we made love, and those languid eyes would light up with a sinister, almost possessive glow.

Now I saw it in its rawest form and could no longer pretend I hadn't. The metallic scent of blood filled my nostrils, making my eyes sting.

"Anakin—" I whispered, raising a hand, not sure whether to reach for him or keep my distance.

"My love." He came toward me as if everything was normal, his face worried, relieved to see me mostly unharmed. He brushed the collar with a hand, a spark of anger flashing as fast as a blink. "The others are coming, we’ll get this thing off you," he murmured, then gently took my face in his hands, the blood staining my skin and dripping in tiny crimson drops down my neck. I was shaking like a leaf but didn’t know what to say.

I knew what he was.

I knew it, but I had underestimated it, in fact, I had lied to myself, ignoring all the warnings. Yet I wondered how it was possible that no one had noticed before.

Or maybe they had all been blinded by the same light?

By that warm smile.

Never getting too close and risking harm.

But I had been drawn to the light like a moth, and now, indeed, I was burning alive.

And it was too late to run away.

I was complicit in that fire, which I had fed every night with every kiss, touch, or whisper.

How could I turn my back on him now?

It was also my fault.

He leaned over me, the hand I had raised now resting on his chest, the heartbeat too steady for someone who had just crushed a human skull with his bare hands.

"Don’t be afraid. I’ll protect you." A whisper on my lips, I wanted to say it was impossible, that he couldn’t save me from himself, that it was him I feared so much, but it was too late.

He kissed me, his lips tasting of death and blood, the light that blinded me now an shadow that devoured me.

It was too late.

I loved him.

I realized it when I closed my eyes to meet him. I would have kept his secret, I would have protected him until my last breath.

Till death do us part.

#star wars #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin x oc #first person #violent love #soft gore

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hughesybear · 12 days ago

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Canucks thoughts 11/09/2024 (I was at this game! photos & video along with thoughts below cut)

It was certainly an exciting game, even if it wasn't exciting for my team! I borrowed some jerseys from a friend, and I think they're cursed, because every time they've been worn to a Canucks game the Canucks have lost. We're hoping that they can be redeemed this season!

My brother was at this game, and he's pretty new to hockey so I was explaining a lot of things to him. Somehow he got the Oilers and the Canucks confused and started clapping when the Oilers opened the scoring, despite the Canucks wearing the black skate and me wearing a black skate jersey right next to him and us having watched the Canucks warming up in the black skate for 15 minutes. This man is 21 years old. He also correctly observed that “Quinn seems like a low-key dude,” so I showed him the video of Vinny failing to hype Quinn up on the bench lol

I took so many pictures and videos, but I focused mostly on Petey and Quinn. I'm glad I got to witness Petey's best game of the season so far (first multi-point game!) and a Petey goal :)

Petey and Quinn had a moment (pictured below) where they were both down on one knee facing each other looking around, and I also got a video of them practicing one-timers and saucer passes:

One last peteyquinn moment before my actual thoughts:

Let's look at the positives first! This was Petey's best game of the season by far. He was exerting more of the control on the game that we've come to expect from EP40, and he was uncorking slappers and wrist shots that had much more velocity on them (he had his first 90+MPH shot today!). For the first time this season that I've noticed, he was getting offensive zone deployment over Miller (who got more defensive zone deployment), which is a pretty good indicator of how Tocchet is feeling about his two 1Cs during any given game. Each game there are more steps in the right direction, and more signs that he's climbing back to the player we know he can be. Both sides of his two-way play were on display this game. He made a stellar play in front of his own net reading a pass to McDavid and poking a sure goal off his stick, and his work in the offensive zone, some welcome flashes of chemistry with DeBrusk, and his notoriously strong hand-eye coordination led to the 3-1 goal that felt like it should have been a turning point in the game. Right after that, his line had another strong shift which the third line (aka Life Line 2.0) was able to build off of, pulling off some nifty passing to scramble the Oilers' defence and leave Hronek wide open in the slot for the 3-2 goal. See what happens when you apply consistent offensive zone pressure, Canucks? Why can't you do that regularly?

That's pretty much it for the positives. I miss Brock Boeser dearly, and it looks like the Canucks do as well. Tocchet chose to run 11F and 7D for this game, which resulted in lines shuffling around and very little consistency for the Canucks to build off of. Apparently it was because one of the defencemen was dealing with something and Tocchet wanted to have a good PK, which I suppose I understand if the other option was having Juulsen, Desharnais, or Brannström in a top-4 role, but it still hurt the Canucks IMO. They struggled to establish a consistent, heavy forecheck, and the lack of pressure in transition led to the Oilers being able to break the puck out of their own zone way too easily. The Canucks' forward group should have feasted on a bottom four that looks like Stecher, Dermott, Emberson, and Kulak, but alas.

Miller especially struggled without his longtime linemate, registering a 16.67% CF% and 4.44% xGF% 5v5. When he was on the ice 5v5, the Canucks were outshot 0-8 (and out-attempted 3-15). Yikes. He's most likely playing through an injury that kept him out of most of the preseason, but that doesn't excuse what he does on the Arvidsson goal that makes it 3-0 Oilers. Quinn smoothly enters the offensive zone with possession and drops the puck to the right side where Miller and Garland are supporting the entry. However, instead of making the safe play and helping the puck get through to Garland who's right behind him, Miller bats it straight into the middle of the ice for no reason, where four Oilers and zero Canucks are waiting to turn the play the other way. Instead of backchecking and tying up Arvidsson, which he was in the best position to do so, Miller just sort of gives up on the play, which you really can't do if you're the centre on your line. An unhindered Arvidsson skates right into the slot and puts it past Lankinen. Miller's play is due to receive more attention soon, especially since it's starting to become reminiscent of his play during the first half of the godforsaken 2022-2023 season.

It was another night where the Canucks struggled to effectively defend the guts of the ice, and defenders were puckwatching instead of finding bodies and tying up sticks. I was actually explaining icing to my brother, and was talking about how Juulsen had iced the puck, when Juulsen left Perry open for a tap-in. rip. Not much else to say other than they need to clean their in-zone defence up again, and focus on keeping the chances to the low-danger perimeter.

Overworking Lankinen was always a concern, since he's never had a starter's workload in his career, and this game seemed to have confirmed that. After the 5th Oilers goal, Lankinen started letting in some uncharacteristic softies, leading to Tocchet's first Canucks goalie swap that hasn't been injury-related. Šilovs' SV% has risen above .800 on the season because he stopped four shots, which is kind of hilarious.

It feels like the coaching staff wanted to get Šilovs some more action before a possible game on Tuesday instead of repeating the mistake of sending him in against the Devils after not playing for two weeks, which is why Šilovs played a game for the Abby Canucks today. He was solid - the only goals scored against him were off cross-seam passes that the big club has barely permitted this season, and he had a .920 SV%. With that win, he has his first win of the 2024-25 season! That's pretty unfortunate, but he could have an opportunity to get his second one very soon with the big club.

Let's end on a positive note! By scoring on that meaningless power play at the end of the game to cut the Oilers' lead to 7-3, the Canucks accomplished four things:

Inflated their power play %

First Petey multi-point game since March 23

Made the Oilers tied for worst penalty kill in the league (-15 goal differential)

Made Skinner have a sub-.900 SV% in the game

If moral victories are a thing, petty victories are too. Hopefully the Canucks can redeem themselves against Alberta teams at home in their rematch against the Flames on Petey's birthday!

#canucks thoughts #vancouver canucks #nhl #auriel:text #auriel:images #auriel:gifs #auriel:videos

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bloodinthegutter · 2 months ago

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Little review of Deep Cut, but it's mostly me being your hyper fixated friend

First of all, hi. I don't think I've really talked about my thoughts on any particular comic run or mini series cause I started this blog specifically as a Marauder fan blog and, unsurprisingly, they're not really in the comics that often. I've thought about talking about past storylines or highlighting certain moments from comics, even if it's just one issue out of a hundred. I might do that going forward while I wait for the next thing to come along for me to relentlessly post about.

By the way, I'm not a critic. I'm very casual going into pretty much everything, and I'm way more positive than I am negative. Please don't listen to me. Please.

Okay, so how did I like Deep Cut, since it did kinda feature the Marauders? I dunno, it was fine. Nothing grand, just a little Logan side quest. Fun for anyone who's looking for a quick Wolverine story, and probably fun for anyone who's nostalgic for the Claremont era (although, I am one of those people, and I'm still sitting here not really sure what to say about it. This is hard).

I got the feeling throughout the first issue that yes, Claremont has a story to tell, he wants to fill in the gaps from forty years ago, which is great, I like that. Claremont definitely knows how to write Logan in a way where someone could read his dialogue or thought bubbles or the text boxes of him narrating to me and I’d go, “Oh yeah, that’s definitely Logan talking.” Same with Sabretooth. I’m not even that big of a Sabretooth fan, but I’ve always loved his dynamic with Logan, how he literally just loves fucking with him. It’s, like, the one part of their dynamic that usually gets lost when they adapt X-Men into movies or shows.

I saw some people on various sites talking about how they didn’t like the art very much, and yeah, there were some…interesting design choices in certain areas…

...but I didn’t think it was horrible.

I think this whole part was the highlight of my experience with reading this series:

She seems so excited. I love that for her. And I loved seeing the Marauders use teamwork. Greycrow definitely said it best when he said "Marauders win when we fight as a team." Brought me back to reading the Mutant Massacre as a kid and being like, "Oh no, these poor Morlocks...these Marauders are pretty cool, though." Fuck's wrong with me? Haha...

So, funny enough, I think where the series started to waver a little bit for me, personally, was after Logan realized that Sabretooth was a clone. Because whereas issue #1 with the whole fight between Logan and Sabretooth felt like it could be just a one-issue thing, a little gift from Claremont to us, the other three issues felt a little like he didn’t entirely know what to do with the rest of the story. To me, it kind of felt…over? After the first issue? If that makes sense? There were three issues to go, and I had been looking forward to seeing the Marauders, but I was still like, “Really? There’s more?”

I mean, of course there’s more, but something else that was kinda crazy to me was how underwhelmed I felt following the Sinister battle. I don’t know why, because after a fight with Sabretooth, two Marauder fights and an extra one where he, for some reason, didn’t kill any of them, Logan going up against Sinister should have been the moment where I clapped my hands and said, “Here we go, boys! The moment we’ve all been waiting for!” But I wasn't. I was just like, "Oh. Okay. That's cool."

Granted, I did like seeing Wolverine and Sabretooth team up, albeit briefly. That was cute.

But I think it being the last issue of a mini series kinda made me expect it to be a little rushed, so even though I typically go into things without any high or low expectations, I still felt a little underwhelmed. As much as I love the Marauders, I’m genuinely a little surprised that we got two full issues with them and not more Sinister. I’m not exactly complaining, but I can tell this might disappoint some other people.

Not that I care what other people think. Here's some pictures of my favorite character doing some poses:

I randomly just remembered that I met Chris Claremont at a comic con when I was 15 and he seemed genuinely surprised when I told him that I liked the Marauders. I really hope this mini series doesn't exist because of me. I'm haunted by memories of my still-existing cringe.

Anyway, like I said before, I'm not a critic. There's a bunch of Wolverine-centric podcasts that do deep dives into Wolverine comics waaaayyyy better than I can, and probably a million other users on Tumblr who have expressed their thoughts on this series in better detail than I did. I didn't hate Deep Cut, and I am just glad I could see my favorite villain group together again in a mini series this year, but it was still a pretty underwhelming read. I still have so many questions, too, that just seem like retcons now, like are the original Marauders still alive out there? Can Sinister not make clones of them without the originals? Is Hellions Greycrow a clone? Or is he the real Greycrow? And maybe the zombie Marauders were the real ones? But then where's Vertigo...?

None of that matters. I'm literally laughing at myself right now, I'm obsessed.

Closing thought: what the ever loving fuck are Scrambler's powers?

#this is my first comic review #but it's not really a review #it's just me talking like we know each other #please let's discuss

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rogerswifesblog · 2 years ago

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- Chapter 2 -

Warnings: is it cannibalism when a mermaid eats fish?

Series Masterlist

Don’t forget to like, comment and reblog!

Leave some feedback, please<3

Chapter 1 [ previous chapter ]

After a long flight you finally arrived at the compound - other than your surprising transformation to a human, nothing happened. Well, besides the weird conversation about what sushi is, after Tony meant he was craving sushi. He got elbowed by Natasha and Steve glared at him, thinking it could be a very horrific thought, people eating fish - but after Steve explained what it was, you seemed excited and wanted to try it immediately.

And Steve had to admit your happiness and curiosity made his heart flutter. He really didn’t want to think about what HYDRA had done to you. To such a good and sweet soul.

The jet landed and Steve gently grabbed your hands while you slowly stood up. Natasha had given you a gown and helped you put it on, so your modesty was covered. You whined at first, not liking the feeling of fabric on your soft skin, but the team explained to you, why it was very important to wear clothes - of course, they didn’t let Tony say anything stupid. He did have that typical mischievous sparkle in his eyes though.

Your bare feet touched the cold floor, making you jump slightly. “No! No like” you said and sat down on the bed, pulling your legs closer to your body. Steve sighed. He couldn’t really argue with that, right? It’s not like he can drag you behind him along the cold floor. He’d rather do it himself - but he didn’t have to. His body was already mostly healed - at least physically. Mentally he felt… drained. Ha. Drained.

While you put your arms around his shoulders, Steve gently picked you up. His breath hitched having you this close to his body - especially when you cuddled closer into his neck. “Warm” he could hear your quiet voice against his skin. He exited the jet, Bucky walking right beside him. “And what do we do now? Should we bring her to Dr Cho? Because…from what I can tell, after escaping HYDRA, labs were the worst place to be in. Still are.” Bucky said, watching you from the side for a moment.

The former Winter Soldier knew how it felt to finally be free. HYDRA treated their experiments like… not even animals. Like a weapon. But he was pretty sure even their weapons were treated with more care, than the living beings they experimented on. He knew. He was one of them. HYDRA’s fist. Just a body part of a bigger organization.

While the two men thought about what to do next you slowly lifted your head up from your heated spot - Steve’s neck - and purred a quiet “food”. Steve laughed gently, nodding. “Yeah, food sounds good… but we should also shower and change our suits” he said, looking back at Bucky. He nodded, agreeing. They both couldn’t wait to put on some sweatpants.

“Is it okay if you stay with Natasha? Maybe she can give you something different to wear, so you don’t have to wear this gown?” Steve didn’t know if you’d like it when both him and Bucky would leave you but you couldn’t go into the shower with any of them. He really didn’t want to explain any more anatomy to you, after you had asked him, what the toes were or the little human fins, how you had called them.

It was actually pretty impressive how many words related to you and your mermaid anatomy, you knew. He assumed you heard the HYDRA doctors talk about your kind and remembered. You learned quickly, he noticed. Steve had also noticed your inhuman strength, after bending the metal frame of the bed.

What else was enhanced? Was your hearing also enhanced? Maybe your sense of smell too?

“Na’sha” you said, while looking around, as if the woman in question would appear.

They brought you to Natashas room after asking Friday to let her know. There Steve put you down on the couch which you immediately started bouncing on, visibly interested in the springiness. Quickly you lost your focus on that grabbing a fluffy pillow and petting it. Even Natashas mouth twitched to a soft smile.

“Maybe try to put her in some pants? And socks-she should put some socks on, her feet are cold” said Steve, while watching you for a moment longer before looking away, back to Natasha. She noticed his staring, smirked but didn’t mention it. “I’ll take care of her, you two go get changed.” With that she shoved them out of her room turning around to look at you.

You were still petting the different pillows with your feet on the couch, not liking the feeling of your bare feet on the cold floor.

Natasha grabbed some sweatpants for you and also a t-shirt. Since you don’t like having bare feet on the tiles, Natasha also started looking through the drawer with her underwear and socks, not noticing you sneaking up to her, on wobbly legs, but you adjusted quickly. It was weird. Walking. It felt weird to feel so much weight on your tail-no, feet. On your feet. You had legs now.

“Wha’s this” you pulled out a fuzzy sock, gasping quietly when you felt the soft material. “Wan’ it. Mine?” Natasha couldn’t stop herself from laughing when she watched you grab both of the fuzzy socks and put them on your hands like gloves. It seemed like you had no real ownership comprehension, not really understanding that just asking ‘mine’ didn’t mean something belonged to you. “You can have these socks, but you can’t just take peoples stuff” Natasha guided you back to the couch.

You rubbed your sock covered hands against your cheeks, looking up at her, while she put the clothes beside you on the armrest. “Now we will put on some pants, okay? And a shirt” with that she took the sweatpants. “Wha’ pants?” With that Natasha looked down at herself, at her own sweatpants. “These are pants. Clothes for your legs.” You watched her legs for a moment, grabbing her thigh to feel the material.

You didn’t want pants.

Shaking your head, you skidded away and huffed. “No pants.” She tried to come closer, but you pushed her away, still shaking your head. “No, no!” “Come on, you have to put on pants-we all wear pants” argued Natasha with you-and she felt like arguing with a two-year-old about putting on pants, screaming no pants, no.

Why did people cover their whole legs? It’s like they’re covering their tails, which would be stupid - who would cover their beautiful and characteristic feature? But then… legs weren’t that pretty. Your tail was prettier, the shiny green-ish scales, the fins, glistening in the dark light, breaking through the water surface. Most of the time, you spend a lot of time deeper in the ocean-often in the darkness, but you also loved seeing the sun. Or the…the moon. The moon, with the…little moons around him. You couldn’t remember the right name…but it started with s.

“Please put your pants on and we can go get some food” Natasha sighed-but as soon as food was mentioned, you stopped your tantrum. “Food! Pants. Want pants.” You let Natasha put the pants on your legs even though it felt weird. The sweatpants felt tight against your soft skin but you didn’t complain. Not if it meant you’d get some food.

She also helped you with the shirt - which was definitely easier to put on. It took a bit of convincing to take off the socks and put them on your feet but after that you two went to the kitchen. “Food? Room?” you asked, pointing at the kitchen in general. “Yes we have food in here. Kitchen. This is a kitchen.” You nodded, watching her open something. “Wha’s?” Natasha looked back at you, taking something to eat out of the fridge.

“It’s a fridge. To keep the food cold and fresh. What do you eat? What do mermaids eat?” asked the redhead. The answer came immediately. “Fish! Fish, fish!” grinning Natasha nodded, putting a can with fish on the table. You looked at the small metal box, raising your eyebrows. What was that? Natasha opened the can, slightly wincing at the smell. She didn’t really like the smelling fish but you seemed happy, immediately grabbing one of the sardines but Natasha stopped you, looking down at your hand.

“Are you - how did you do that?” you didn’t know what she was talking about - the only thing you were thinking about was food - but then you looked down at your hand. Your claws were back… and you haven’t even felt them change. Confused, you stared at your hand. “Want food, please?”

Natasha let go of you when your claws disappeared again, bringing another can, when you ate all the sardines of the first one. Clint would probably hate that you’re eating his food but that was the only fish in the fridge.

Tony walked into the kitchen, grinning at you and Natasha. “You think she’ll like pizza?” asked the man, already typing in their regular order with an added seafood pizza, even though he felt himself wincing thinking about it - but it would probably make it easier to convince you to eat it.

Besides, he was really curious if you’d like it.

After a while everyone came into the dining room, sitting at the big table. When Steve and Bucky came you gave a happy sound from your throat, which reminded slightly to the clicking sounds of a dolphin.

Steve couldn’t stop himself from laughing while he sat down next to you, Bucky next to him, making you pull your eyebrows together. “Becky here?” you pulled the chair next to you. Since he really didn’t want to argue with you, he sat down next to you. “It’s Bucky - not Becky, not with E.” The brunette explained and you nodded. “Okay, Bunky.”

He sighed. Great.

Bucky saw the wicked glimmer in Stark's eyes but before he could say anything, Friday announced the arrival of their food. Probably saving Bucky from some kind of stupid comment.

Clint and Natasha went to get the food while you watched the people around the table talk. There was one person you hadn’t got to know yet - everyone else had introduced themself on the flight, even though Tony always called Steve Cap or Capicle-no Capsicle.

“Who this?” You pointed a finger directly at a man sitting next to Tony. “This is Rhodes.” Answered Steve, making you scowl lightly. You were supposed to say this?

“R-oes….odes,” you shook your head lightly. Hearing his name - or at least the attempts - made him look at you. Tony had told him a few minutes ago who you were and how they found you but he wasn’t sure if he should’ve approached you. “You can call me James, if that’s easier for you” said the man - James. “James, nice meet you” you said proudly, making both super-soldiers next to you smile. It’s something they had already taught you during the flight.

The smell of something delicious filled your nostrils, making you purr, but not audible for anyone besides the people closest to you - Steve and Bucky. They both looked slightly curious at you, slowly starting to grin. “You like the smell?” asked Steve, which you answered with a quick nod.

When Natasha and Clint put the many pizza boxes down, you watched as everyone chose their food. Tony let one of the boxes slide in front of you and opened it. While he himself didn’t eat a lot of fish it seemed like you were incredibly excited seeing the seafood.

You didn’t know how to eat this, so you looked at the others to see how they did it. It seemed like they just ripped a piece of it apart and then ate. Okay, this was easy. You did the same as the others but some of the topping fell from your food making you scoff slightly.

“I’ve never seen someone look at a pizza this angry.” You heard Clint say to Natasha. They watched you for a moment while eating their slices.

Biting into the foreign food you didn’t even notice the others watching you - especially Steve and Bucky. They both leaned back in their seats and waited on any reactions.

A quiet moan escaped your lips as you bit another big chunk off your piece, happily eating. It was so different, the taste of…well pizza. The dough, the sauce, cheese and especially seafood on it. “Do you like it?” asked Bucky, making you snap your head to him, nodding immediately. “Good! Good, much good-” “Very good, you mean” he corrected you.

You thought for a moment. “And wha’s…yhm….good but…different?” This time Bucky couldn’t tell exactly what you meant so he was glad Steve took over this conversation. “Do you mean a different word for good? Another word with a close meaning, a synonym?” He wanted to try and talk in longer sentences - more complicated even, maybe it could help you learn the language quicker.

After you nodded, Steve smiled slightly. “Great or… excellent.” You didn’t answer anymore because you started once again munching your pizza.

While you were eating everyone glanced at you once in a while out of curiosity or because you were a loud eater, not really knowing human manners but nobody said anything - yet Steve knew it would be his or Bucky's responsibility to explain it to you.

Somehow he felt that Bucky and him were the closest to you. Hopefully, it would stay that way.

He really liked it.

His heart fluttered, making him blush slightly while he buried his face behind the lid of his Pizza box, not wanting anyone to notice his reaction.

Luckily Tony had ordered a lot of food, which they always did, having to feed two super-soldiers, often also a god and the rest of the team.

And as it turns out you ate as much as the soldiers, surprising everyone. You were currently impaling the last shrimp with your claw, eating the deliciously prepared food. Everything tasted so different, when you didn’t eat it raw. This was probably the best thing humans had to offer.

You turned around to look at Steve who also finished his food and waited for you. Bucky took the boxes, bringing them to the kitchen, while you leaned your head against Steve's shoulder, rubbing your full tummy. The last time you were this full, was…you couldn’t even remember.

“Let’s get you to a room, you should rest. Sleep, yeah?” Nodding, you stood up, a quiet whine escaping your lips, making Steve laugh quietly. He offered his hand to you not really thinking about it but you seemed content with this gesture and grabbed it. Your claws were long gone. Huh, interesting.

Leaving the dining room, you waved the others goodbye, before Steve brought you to one of the rooms on his floor - not to mention you needed a bit of convincing entering the elevator but he managed.

“Where Bunky?” you asked quietly, unsure why he wasn’t here. Steve and Bucky had been all this time you had met them together. It was weird for Bucky to not be here. “Don’t worry, he’ll come in a few minutes” he entered the room with you, guiding you to the bed and sitting down.

He pulled you a bit closer, grabbing both of your hands in his, studying your soft skin. “Can you control it, Mer?” “Control wha? Who Mer?” You asked, confused, tilting your head. Steve had to stop himself from grinning when he saw your big eyes looking him up and down. “You are Mer - short for Mermaid. You’re a mermaid. I’m human, I’m-” “I know you human” you interrupted him, your tone showing a bit of irritation but also reminding him of the time his mother had to explain something very simple to him.

“You boring human, have legs. No pretty tail” you said matter of fact, poking him in his meaty thigh. Steve was really surprised how you managed it to unknowingly insult him - again - with your limited vocabulary. He sighed quietly, but couldn’t stop the small smile spreading over his lips. “Yes, I’m a boring human and you are a beautiful mermaid, Mer” he took your hands from his thighs which you were still poking, interested in the hard muscles of his legs.

“Since we cleared this up now; I wanted to ask you something. Can you control the…well, the transformation? Your claws and teeth? Your tail?” Asked the man. After you asked what controlling was, Steve explained it to you and you nodded slowly. “So you knew you could do it?” This time you shook your head.

“We change, when with making little mermaids, but I not know I could do without mate too.” you explained, making Steve blush slightly. He hadn’t expected for this talk to turn into a birds and bees talk.

The last time he had to listen to this kind of talk he was a scrawny fifteen years old boy in Brooklyn, listening to his mother. He remembered how crimson red his face and even ears turned as soon as she started talking without a bit of embarrassment-she was a nurse, she had talked about this a lot with some inexperienced patients. After one of her shifts, she felt the need to explain to him that she didn’t want to be a grandmother yet.

Just like back then blood rushed to his cheeks, making him blush, thinking about your… mating process. But something in his mind caught the fact that you hadn’t known much about your transformation before - so you hadn’t done it before? Didn’t you have a… mate? He felt bad for the hope that filled his mind.

“So when you find a mate you leave the water and change? What do you do after?” Steve’s question made you gasp quietly. Didn’t Steve know what Mers in love do? Maybe it was different for humans? Steve realized how his question would have sounded, quickly shaking his head. “No I mean- not the- not the sex part but after. Do you go back into the water?”

Nodding you sat closer to him, putting your legs over his lap and grinning slightly. “Then we have little Mermaid in belly- but…yhm…not food?” Steve couldn’t stop himself from laughing quietly. Talking to you was so entertaining and yet interesting. “I know what you mean. Pregnant. Having a little mermaid - a baby - in your belly means being pregnant” Steve explained and you grunted a quiet ahha, nodding.

He picked your hand up, looking closely at your fingernails. “Can you do it?” Knowing what he was talking about you let your claws sharpen, just like they were in your full mermaid form. It wasn’t as painful as changing your tail so you didn’t even wince.

“Are you in pain?” Steve watched you slowly pull your hand back, looking down at it. You answered his question with a shake of your head. “That’s good, that’s very good..can I ask you something about…about the place you were trapped in? About the people who did this? And what they did to you?” As soon as Steve said these words, he regretted it. He could tell the thought about HYDRA made you uncomfortable.

Before the conversation could get any further, the door opened again and Bucky walked in, holding a white ball of something fluffy. Fuzzy socks?

Thinking Bucky brought you some of these amazing fluffy socks, you stood up and came closer wanting to pet the fuzzy socks- but they moved. A weird looking animal lifted its head, looking straight into your eyes. Both of you seemed to react immediately- with hissing at each other. Bucky had to hold back Alpine from scratching you- or him while Steve quietly grabbed your arms when you wanted to attack Bucky's cat too.

“Steve but danger!” You whined when he pulled you back. “Bunky in danger.” It kind of melted their hearts that you wanted to save Bucky from his own cat. He tried to calm down Alpine by giving her some of her favorite belly rubs. “I’m not in danger, sweetheart, it’s just my cat, Alpine. She's not dangerous…well, not when you feed her and keep up with her routine" he mumbled the rest more to himself, remembering the last time he forgot to feed her on time. He, a super-soldier, had to get stitches for his thumb when she bit him.

Even though the two men assured you that the cat was harmless you didn’t like this thing. “Whas cat? Food?” Bucky quickly shook his head. “No! Oh god, no. Alpine, cat, friend. Like we are your friends too. Alpine is our friend” he added, slowly approaching you.

You looked at the cat skeptically- and Steve could swear Alpine looked the same way at you. “You can hold out your hand to her, for her to sniff” he then took your hand while Bucky sat down next to you on the bed and let Alpine come a bit closer.

Steve felt how your hands were trembling and how much you leaned against him, seeking safeness? Comfort? He put his free arm around you while he slowly held out your hand for Alpine to sniff.

The cat seemed to be interested in you, slowly walking into your lap, making you whimper quietly. Looking up at the two men, you whined. “Cat friend?” You asked again while the cat scented you, licking your hands, rubbing her head on your arms and stomach, laying down and making itself comfortable.

Bucky felt pride, seeing this. Alpine wasn’t really open to meeting new people, always running away and hiding. Yet here she was, laying in your lap and showing you her tummy for you to scratch. “Yes, cat friend. Her name is Alpine. She likes you. She thinks you’re a friend too.” A small smile crept over your face as you gently stroked along the cat's fur just like Bucky had done it.

“Cat pretty, very pretty. And fluffy. Like fuzzy socks” you mumbled happily, apparently already having accepted the cat as a friend. It probably took Steve longer to get you in the elevator, than for you to like Bucky's cat. And Bucky seemed pretty smug about you giving his cat compliments. “Yeah, she’s very pretty.”

You looked up for a moment, watching Bucky, then Steve. The second one for a bit longer before your attention was back to Alpine. “You pretty humans too.” Steve felt himself blush while Bucky had to bite down on his bottom lip so he wouldn’t grin to himself.

After a while Alpine left your lap and the super-soldiers helped you lay down, trying to explain this was the place to sleep in.

Steve couldn’t stop himself from giving you a kiss on your head, tasting salty seawater on his lips which he surprisingly didn’t mind. After that you smiled, knowing this was the way people showed affection to each other. Then you looked at Bucky, waiting. He understood but seemed slightly surprised, looking for a moment at Steve. He only shrugged, why would Bucky even feel the need to ask him?

After Bucky also gave you a gentle kiss on the head they both said their good nights and left your room.

Even though it was a foreign place, you fell asleep quickly, surrounded by the warmth of blankets, how Steve had called them.

The two sat down in Steve’s room for a while just talking about the day. Not only about meeting you but also about what happened to Steve. Bucky knew his fear of drowning. He knew Steve needed some comfort, that’s why he hugged him quietly, pulling him closer against him. “Crazy day…” mumbled the former assassin in Steve’s blond hair.

“After so many years in this century I’d say nothing would even surprise me…but sirens? Mermaids? It’s crazy, Bucky.” He mumbled against Bucky, slowly closing his eyes.

Bucky asked Friday to turn on one of Steve’s comfort movies - Hercules, which Bucky made fun of Steve for a bit, not really meaning it. It’s more like he was teasing him about it.

Just as they decided to put another movie on, a piercing scream interrupted them mid-conversation. They immediately covered their ears. The glass on his bedside table shattered and he felt like his head would do the same any minute. “Friday, what was that!” Steve asked as soon as the sound quieted down.

“It seems like our guest screamed, Sir, but she also is asleep.” The AI answered. The soldiers looked at each other for a moment, having a quick nonverbal conversation and running into your room.

[ chapter 3 ]

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