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#Looking for someone to take to couples therapy and see how long it takes the therapist to notice we don’t know each other

milkywaygalaxygurl · 22 days

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The Go-Ahead - Art Donaldson

request: hiii could you do any plot/story/scenario where tashi knows art is interested/in love/infatuated or just attracted to reader so she gives him the green light as long as it’ll have him play tennis better … sorry if this doesn’t make sense or is weirdly specific i’m just a little obsessed with this scenario

i took some liberties with the personality of Y/N since it wasn’t specified, i made her shy and a little awkward because i could definitely see art falling for an adorably shy woman after being with tashi’s confident self for so long. i wrote this as the reader being female because gender wasn’t specified, but let me know if you’d like me to change it!! i personally really hate the way i wrote this and it’s definitely not my best, i honestly might rewrite it eventually because there’s kind of a lack of romance but i really hope y’all like it:’)

Pairing: Art Donaldson x Female!Reader

Warnings: thoughts of infidelity, probably swearing, suggestive words, idk if i missed anything else but yeah

Word Count: 2.2k

Description: Y/N caught Art’s eye the second she walked into the Stanford reunion Tashi had practically forced Art to attend. He couldn’t believe how breathtakingly beautiful she was or the fact that he was thinking this way about someone other than Tashi. Unbeknownst to Art, Tashi notices and forms a plan.

Art loved Tashi wholeheartedly, he always had and always would. Some part of him knew that Tashi would never love him as much as he did her, but he felt content knowing she chose him to spend her life with. Even if they fought about tennis and rarely spoke about anything else, Art never thought anybody could take his eyes off Tashi.

That is, until you walked into the venue the Stanford reunion was being held in. It’s almost as if his eyes were drawn to your presence entering the room, eyes immediately snapping towards you. His breath catches in his throat for a second, his eyes widening slightly. He lets out an awkward cough, nodding when Tashi asks if he’s okay.

He tries not to make it obvious when he glances back at you to catch another look, but Tashi notices and follows his line of sight. She has to force herself to hold back a scoff at first, but an idea quickly forms in her head. She studies you just like Art, noticing the way you give awkward smiles and how the flush in your cheeks never seems to lessen as you fidget awkwardly and stumble through small talk with former classmates.

You are beautiful, even Tashi can admit that, she doesn’t blame Art for allowing his eyes to wander (especially with the state of their relationship). As you move closer to the couple, Tashi suddenly realizes that she had a class with you all those years ago. You were kind to her after her knee injury, you weren’t the best of friends but you had taken notes for her while she missed class for physical therapy and always offered a helping hand when needed.

She glances at Art, noticing how his eyes are still trained on you. She chuckles slightly before making her mind up, looping her arm through Art’s and practically dragging him over to where you stand.

“Y/N! Hi, it’s so good to see you!” She plasters on a smile, chuckling slightly when you look at her wide eyed for a second. You were still the same shy girl you were back then, it had honestly always annoyed Tashi how unconfident you were.

“Tashi! Wow, you look amazing.” You smile at her after getting over your initial awkwardness, turning to look at Art for a second before looking back at her. Tashi clocks it immediately, but doesn’t let either of you know.

“Oh hush, look at you! I’m sure you remember Art, right?” She lays a hand on her husband’s arm, turning to look at him. He’s looking at you like a lovesick puppy and, in all honesty, it doesn’t bother her one bit.

“Yeah, of course! You guys were like the prodigies of our class, I think you guys are part of the very few of us who actually went on to make a name for themselves.” You chuckle, glancing at Art again.

It takes Art a minute to even speak, but his mouth finally starts to move as he holds a hand out to you. “It’s nice to meet you. Y/N, was it?”

You shake his hand softly, nodding your head. “I helped Tashi a little after her knee injury, I’m honestly surprised she even remembered me!” Chuckling awkwardly, you take your hand back and hope he didn’t notice how sweaty it was.

Tashi pretends to notice something across the room, apologizing profusely and saying she’ll be right back. When Art tries to follow her, she shoos him away and tells him to stay talking with you. He tries not to seem too excited at the idea, but the way he turns around quickly gives him away.

Art notices the way you fidget with the rings on your fingers and the way your eyes dart around awkwardly as if you’re looking for the nearest escape. He honestly thinks it’s adorable, but tries his best to help you feel less awkward by starting a new conversation.

“What was your major?” He asks, tilting his head to the side slightly. The question seems to ease the tension, your eyes lighting up as you smile.

“Originally it was Journalism but after I realized that I’d have to interview people, I very quickly switched to just having English as my major. I wrote a few books that didn’t get as much attention as I hoped they would, so I’m an editor for a magazine now.”

“It’s actually kind of crazy, the last thing I edited was a column about you.” You smile at him, trying to ignore the way your heart skips a beat when he smiles in return.

“All good things, I hope?” He asks, making you nod your head quickly as you jump to reassure him.

Tashi never returned to the conversation despite swearing she would and you talked with Art for what felt like hours. Before you knew it, you were laughing like old friends and the conversation was flowing nicely. You catch yourself wondering what it would be like if you had met him all those years ago, if maybe he’d have had a crush on you before he dated Tashi.

You knew it was wrong to think that way about a married man, but you rationalized it out by saying they were just thoughts. Truly, that’s all they were. You would never try meddling in a relationship that seemed as strong as theirs. You didn’t realize how long you’d been talking until you glanced down at your phone, your mouth falling open in shock.

“We’ve been talking for so long!” Turning your phone around to show Art the time, his own mouth falls open too before splitting into a grin.

“I really hate to say this, but I really have to go. I have to go into work early tomorrow and I really need to get a good night’s sleep beforehand.” You look up at him with puppy dog eyes and Art swears he felt his heart skip a beat.

“That’s alright, I really enjoyed talking to you. Let’s go find Tashi and we’ll walk you out, we should get going too.” He looks around for a second and almost immediately spots Tashi, pointing her out to you so you two can make your way over.

You say an awkward goodbye once you’re at your car and before you step in, Tashi is calling out to you for your number. “We should keep in touch! We can all go out for drinks sometime.”

You give it to her, honestly a little startled she wanted to keep in contact. You exchange another goodbye before driving off, hoping it wouldn’t be too long before you see Art again.

It took Tashi all of two seconds to turn to Art with a raised eyebrow. “You seemed to really like her.” Her voice is deadpan, her arms crossed.

“Wh- What do you mean?” He looks at her wide eyed, like a child who’s been caught. She chuckles, shaking her head.

“I saw the way you looked at her when she walked in and the whole time you guys were talking, I’m not stupid.” Art gaps at her, his mouth opening and shutting a few times.

“Art, I don’t give a fuck. Why do you think I asked for her number?” He’s still gaping at her, trying to find the right words.

“You’ve been playing like shit, you can’t deny it. She made you the most excited I’ve seen you in a while. If she’s what it takes for you to play good again, I don’t care if you fuck her. Hell, you could enter a full blown relationship with her and I wouldn’t care if it means you play better.”

Art tries to defend himself, tries to say he would never do that to Tashi, but part of him is excited at the prospect of her giving him the go-ahead. After lots of convincing and back and forth between them, Art decides to just go for it. You guys all hung out after that night a few times, but eventually Tashi was always “busy” and it turned into just you and Art going out for drinks or watching movies. It wasn’t until after a few months of these hang outs when Art decided to bring up the idea to you.

“I know this is a really strange offer, but I really just need you to hear me out before you say anything.” His words make you raise an eyebrow as you turn to look at him. You notice how nervous he seems, his thumb rubbing the ring on his finger.

“I find you attractive, I honestly really like you. I know I’m married to Tashi, but her and I have honestly been going downhill for months. All we ever talk about is tennis, she barely even wants to touch me anymore. I- I know it’s strange, but she gave me permission to pursue something with you. If you’re interested, that is.”

You stare at him for a second, your face void of any emotion. “Did she really give you the okay or is this just some manipulation tactic? Because you know how I feel about cheating.”

He nods his head quickly, “If you want, you can talk to her about it. We’ve been discussing this since the night I met you, that’s why these hang outs eventually turned into just you and I.”

You sigh, rubbing your forehead. You couldn’t lie and say that you didn’t want this, but you didn’t want to enter into something that would inevitably cause pain for all parties involved.

“So, what, I’m just supposed to fuck you and then let you go home to your family? I can’t do that to myself, Art.” In the months that you’d been hanging out with Art, your shyness slowly disappeared and he got to see the more confident side of you. He couldn’t deny that it made him like you all the more.

“I-I mean, if you really wanted to, we don’t have to just do that. We could be in a relationship, I could stay with you some nights and go home for Lilly other nights. I don’t want you to think I just want to use you, because I don’t want to. You’re amazing, Y/N. These past few months have been so nice, I love just getting to sit with you and not having to talk about tennis or training. You make me feel normal, like I’m not just a puppet.”

You rub your forehead again, closing your eyes to think. “We can do this, but all three of us need to sit down and discuss boundaries. We need to do this right.”

Art’s face breaks out into a bright grin, his hands reaching for your own. “That’s fine with me, thank you for giving this a chance.”

The next day, you found yourself having the awkward sit down with him and Tashi to discuss boundaries. It took nearly the whole day, but eventually things were settled. With the weight of that off your chest, you felt comfortable starting something with Art.

Months went by and your love for Art only grew deeper. He was so kind and attentive, always making sure you were still okay with the arrangement and that you felt cared for. You feared the dynamic would be weird, but you often saw Tashi and even met Lilly a few times. Things were going amazing and you couldn’t ask for anything more.

It was nearly six months into your relationship the first time Art told you he loved you. You were lying in bed, the TV casting a glow in the otherwise dark room. Art was cuddled into your side, his head resting on her chest and his arm wrapped tightly around you. As he listened to the sound of your heartbeat and felt your chest move with every breath you took, he realized just how glad he was to have met you that night. He had gotten better at playing, he felt more loved than he had honestly ever felt with Tashi, and he was truly and utterly content with his life.

“Y/N?” He whispers your name, propping his head up on your chest to look at you. You look down at him, running your fingers through his hair as you smile softly at him. You hum softly to let him know you’re listening, it was something you did often that made Art’s heart skip several beats.

“I love you, truly. I’m so glad I met you and I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.” His words make you smile, your cheeks heating up as you lean down to give him a million kisses.

“I love you too, my sweet boy.” Art grins at you, sitting up so he can kiss your face. You giggle at the feeling, grabbing his face to pull him in for a real kiss. You were truly so grateful for Art and your relationship, and you were grateful for Tashi allowing it. This was the happiest you’d been in years and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

#art donaldson challengers #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson fic #art donaldson fanfic #challengers fanfic #challengers fic

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thisismeracing · 3 months

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Your time | LH44

― Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x singer!reader ― Warnings: mentions of cheating; lots of rumors about lewis being an a*hole; mentions of juliana nalu and shakira, but all fictional. ― Summary: A couple months after the biggest breakup in the F1 paddock, your song gets leaked and the internet uproars about your relationship again. This time they have more ammunition than ever to feed the narrative that Lewis Hamilton cheated on you. Are they right though? (based on this request).

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September, 2023

paddockgossip

liked by ynfan, haileybieber, and others

paddockgossip how would you guys feel if your man goes out with another singer and looks this cozy while you’re out there on tour working your ass off? 👀

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sunshineyn you know shits real when her friend hailey likes the post…

⤷ pinterestyln I thought the same

leclercnation you guys forgot to add that yn and shakira aren’t friends, were never seem together, couldnt bother to talk about one another, yet this is the second time we see her around lewis this week…

randuser @ yourusername bestie come get your man!

schumakatchau this looks oddly like a double date

raintyres GUYS HIS HAND PLACEMENT!!! HES HOLDING SHAKIRAS WAIST 😭😭😭😭

tomdayastan my girl Yn doesn’t deserve this

evansnature are you guys really that surprised? He’s a man, I expect anything from a man

January, 2024

February, 2024

f1wagsupdate

liked by pierregasly, mbappeworld, and others

f1wagsupdate According to our sources Yn Yln and Lewis Hamilton broke up ealier this month. There is not an official reason yet, but most fans believe that cheating was the cause of the downfall of the four-years-long relationship.

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user44 is true love even real?

gomezracing I hate it in here

drugobitch what if its because of the cheating rumors?

⤷ rand32 but why would she wait weeks after it?

likedbypgasly and so it goes the best wag of the paddock :(

mclarenmason did you guys see that thread someone made about Yn's looks on the paddock and her cheering for lew, and them matching sometimes *sobs into my hands*

yourusername

liked by roscoelovescoco, k.mbappe, and others

yourusername making music and enjoying some free time after touring 💞

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mbappeworld I wish Lewis and Kyllian weren’t friends bc I kinda ship him with Yn 😭

hailyebieber 😍😍😍😍

sza waiting for our collabbbbb! ❤️

⤷ ynfan the day these two write a song together is the day I’ll be stuck in my room crying for a week straight

ynnation She looks so relaxed, more than when she was with Lewis

hardtyres_ I wish I could be like this after being cheated on, when my ex did this to me I had to go to therapy for at least a year before going back on social media

⤷ agoradoja there’s no proof he cheated on her

⤷ winteryln sure, except for the hundreds of pics of him with singers and models 😍 but y’all taking it too serious, he was just friendly with them

⤷ agoradoja maybe he was just friendly, Lewis is famous, dare I say even more than Yn, so being friends with different famous people is part of his life.

⤷ bonoschumi I’ll have to agree with agoradoja, there’s nothing too incriminatinf, maybe we’re just trying to find a reason because we don’t accept that they fell out of love

⤷ leclercmcqueen she literally wrote “its just us against the world” for him, wdym they fell out of love????

bieberfantasy yeah but how about roscoe liking the post????? It's making me hopeful

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too-much-tma-stuff · 1 year

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Never Love Another

It was no secret that when Jason came back he came back wrong. The violence and pit rage were the most obvious ones of course, but now that it had faded other little things had started to surface. He had noticed this deep loneliness and homesickness for something he couldn’t remember or name. He didn’t know what to do about it besides, well maybe try to find someone who could sooth the loneliness. But it wasn’t working, if it wasn’t for how bad he wanted a romantic connection he would have thought he was aromatic now because he never, Never felt a spark at all, with anyone.

He actually talked to Dick about it, and let him talk Jason into therapy, but that didn’t help, and when Tim found out about it the paranoid little shit started doing tests. And that was how fucking Bruce found out, and he was even more paranoid so they would not believe it was a coincidence or anything and more tests were done. No answers were found until Batman called in a favour from JLD, Jason tried to insist it wasn’t worth it but Batman said his happiness was the most important thing, which made Jason shut up and make a face like he’d bitten into a lemon.

Now he was just trying to avoid admitting that they were right. “What the fuck do you mean cursed?!” Jason demanded from Constantine who shrugged and lit a new cigarette from the butt of the last one.

“I don’t know mate,” He said with a shrug, taking a drag. “While you were dead you must have pissed off some pretty powerful bastard because it’s Not a petty curse either, not the sort of thing I or Zatanna can break. Looks like it’s to ‘never love again’ or something like that, I don’t know it’s not exactly written in words.” He explained and Jason dropped his head into his hands with a groan.

Of course, why wouldn’t this happened? Honestly though as the literature nerd he was he had to think whoever had cursed him must have been of a similar temperament, given how melodramatic is was. He wished he could remember what the fuck he had done to get cursed like this?

“So how would we break the curse?” Batman asked, ever solution oriented.

“Don’t know Bats,” Constantine admitted with a one shoulder shrug. “I think you’d have to find whoever cursed him and convince them to lift it. They’re a seriously powerful denizen of the Infinite Realms so we could try a summoning but there’s no guarantee that is would work, and if not you’d have to go to them which would be veeery risky. I’m not sure it’d be worth it honestly, I mean it’s a bit of a blessing isn’t it? Not like our lifestyles really lend to romance,” He snickered and everyone ignored him.

“How long will it take to arrange a summoning,” Nightwing demanded with a frown, why he had to be here too Jason didn’t know but… he was privately a little grateful that he was.

“Mmm A couple of weeks, we have most of the stuff required and the unique ingredients aren’t that hard to find,” the magician hummed thoughtfully. “I’ll remind you, there’s no guarantee that it’s going to work,” he reminded and even though Jason hadn’t looked up he could practically sense the twin scowls Dick and Bruce were shooting John.

“We’re going to try it,” Batman growled and Constantine hummed.

“Sure, whatever you say, I’ll start setting it up.”

------

Those two weeks were plenty of time to panic about who it might be, what Jason might have done to cause this, and what the being might do if they answered the summons. They had a lot of preparations to do, but when Jason tried to say they shouldn’t do this Bruce and the others insisted that they needed to know ho had it out for Jason if just in case they decided to cause more problems. There was discussion about if Jason should be present, but he really wanted to be if this was happening, he wanted to see the monster that had cursed him.

Constantine and Zatanna were both there the day of, as well as Batman and Nightwing, and superman, just in case things went horribly wrong. The spell was… stressful for Red Hood, the portal it opened made him feel like he was staring into the Lazarus pits again, even if it was missing the feeling of rage.

It felt like they were all holding their breath for a few long minutes waiting to see if the summon would be answered. Jason was just starting to think that no one was going to answer when a white booted foot stepped through, followed quickly by the rest of the body.

Jason blinked, staring uncomprehendingly at the being that had answered the summons, not because they were some incomprehensible monster, but for the opposite reason, because they looked so human. Not normal, their ashen skin, pointed ears, and white hair that disregarded gravity, made sure of that, but he looked human other then that. A head or so shorter then Jason, lean and agile looking with unusually wide hips and soft curves for a man. His ears were pierced three times, two having studs like planets and a set of dangly ones shaped like a sun and a moon which glinted in the light of the glowing crown on his head. It looked like ice that had trapped the northern lights within them, it was beautiful, it took his breath away.

He had a vague feeling that the others present were talking, but Jason and, it seemed, the spirit, were not hearing them. Jason couldn’t tear his gaze away from the creatures Lazarus green eyes, why did he feel so familiar.

“Jay,” The being breathes, a bright smile spreading across his face, revealing little fangs that shouldn’t have been so adorable. “How did you, you shouldn’t have called me, I don’t… You don’t remember me do you? You shouldn’t,” He breathed, the smile dropping as the initial joy at seeing Jason overtaken by worry.

“We want to know why you cursed my son!” Batman shouted, suddenly cutting through the odd, tunnel version they’d both been trapped in and sending them both reeling. Jason had been leaning forward and ended up stumbling.

“Oh,” The creature sounded, his brows furrowing as Jason finally looked around and noticed how Constantine was cowering.

“Batman! Don’t yell at the fucking king of the Infinite Realms!” Constantine practically squeaked. The king?! How had Jason pissed off the king?! “We’re so sorry for disturbing you your Majesty, please don’t destroy us,” the wizard said, sounding like he was on the verge of a panic attack.

The being still in the circle cackled and crossed his legs under him, sitting on air at the odd cape that looked like it was made of the night sky billowed behind him. “Don’t worry I’m not planning on it, honestly, I am happy to see you again Jaybird,” He said with a soft smile, his gaze going back to Jason like he wanted to drink him in. “You’ve grown so much pretty-bird, are you happy? Do you like being alive again?” He asked worriedly. “You’re always welcome back-“

Nightwing read that as a threat that this supposed King was going to kill Jason again and yanked him back, standing between Jason and the stranger, even though he was shorter and slimmer then Red Hood. “He’s not going anywhere! Why did you curse him?” Nightwing demanded again.

“It wasn’t a curse, it was a price,” Phantom said with a frown. “I would let him go, but not to love another.”

“Love, another?” Jason asked this time, his voice harsh and soft. God how his heart ached, why couldn’t he remember something that made him feel so much longing and pain?

“Another,” Danny said, his voice softening again. “While you were in my realm we were… Close, very close. But you couldn’t let go of life, you weren’t ready to give yourself to me, not fully,” Danny bit his lip for a moment. “It hurt, but I only wanted what was best for you Jay, so if you had unfinished business… well, I let you leave. I did! I let you go, but-but maybe I was selfish, I was going to be waiting decades for you and-and I couldn’t stand the idea of waiting that long only for you to have fallen in love again with someone in life and, even after dying and remembering me, choosing to stay with them! So that was the deal, you get to live again, but only if you don’t love again, and you come back to me when you’re done. You agreed.”

There was a long silence as everyone processed what the king had said, it was Constantine who reacted first, rounding on Jason. “You dated the King of the Infinite Realms!?” He demanded, flabbergasted.

“Ugh, just call me Danny, I’m the king sure but I don’t care much for the title,” The bring in front of them corrected with a grimace.

“Danny,” Nightwing said, holding out his hand in a sort of placating gesture. “Can you… change the price?” He asked uncertainly.

“NO!” Danny said instantly, his voice echoing in a way that made those present flinch. “No, the deal still stands. I let him leave my kingdom, but I won’t completely give him up. I can’t, I can’t,” Danny said and Jason could swear he saw Danny’s eyes glimmer with tears.

“It’s alright,” Jason said, softly as he could, Danny’s pain called to him in a way he couldn’t explain. “It’s just, I’ve been lonely, I’ve felt like I’ve been missing something since I came back. I thought it was love, but now I think, I think it’s you. I’ve been homesick, for You,” He said, stepping closer again and holding out his hand. John yelped when Jason broke the circle, but he was being ignored.

Danny’s eyes widened in shock, then welled over with tears as he reached out and took Jason’s hand, his feet landing back on the ground as he stepped closer. “I’ve missed you too Jaybird, I’ve missed you like you wouldn’t believe,” He practically whispered. As he stepped over the line a white ring ran up and over his body, leaving a- well, for all appearances a human man with similar features and inverted colours, maybe a little younger then Jason. “I’m sorry you’ve been lonely, but I wanted to let you live your life. If you want, I could visit more? I would be happy to put in the work to, start over, let you get to know me in this life?” He laced their fingers together, taking Jason’s other hand as well, standing chest to chest and looking up at him through dark lashes, framing beautiful clear blue eyes.

“I would love that,” Jason breathed. Startled by a sound of disbelief behind him, he’d forgotten Nightwing was there and he glanced back. “What? It solves the problem of me being unable to love, it turns out I was just trying to love the wrong people.

#dead on main #danny phantom #Jason/Danny #jason todd #batman #dc x dp #nightwing #fanfiction #john constantine #Jason and Danny fell in love while he was dead #Danny made a compromise #ghost king Danny #this isn't edited #I'll edit it and post it on AO3 later

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chimcess · 4 months

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Waterlog || pjm (1)

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

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

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

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

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

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

With an annoyed sigh, he nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s great to hear,” He smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She thought for a second before replying.

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

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

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

“Drive safe. See you in a bit.”

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

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

“Love you,” She sing-songed playfully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hiding behind humor was a pastime.

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s young, ain’t he?”

I nodded, “23, I think.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dani beamed, “Daddy said the same thing.”

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

“Your dad’s a smart guy,” I joked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s starting,” Hoseok announced.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I shrugged, “Ledecky is a great swimmer.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. Night, Chika.”

“Night, Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Crystal!” They all replied in unison.

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

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

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

“Butterfly,” Jordan replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Always cutting to the chase,” He joked.

I did not laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is my team.”

“And this is Jimin Park.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?” A soft voice called out.

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

“Yeah, can you see me?”

I shook my head, “Just your icon.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you see me?” He asked.

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

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

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

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

“No worries. I’m not in any rush.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Could’ve fooled me,” I teased.

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

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

“Talk to you later, Park.”

“See you, coach.”

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

Jimin: 👶

I did not respond until I had my flight booked.

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

He replied a few minutes later.

Jimin: Do you need a lot of space?

Me: Not really

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

I smiled. He really was a sweetheart.

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

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

Jimin: I was raised to respect the elderly.

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

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

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

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

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

First work then play, I told myself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Andy snorted, “He means well.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I pulled a face, “Audrey?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She smiled sadly, “I think you can.”

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

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sounds like we have company!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” I quickly followed behind him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hope the concert was nice.”

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

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

“Hey,” I replied lamely. “Eloise?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How old are they?” I asked.

“Almost 4.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t look very impressed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your hip might give out, granny.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I put your stuff in your room.”

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now I felt like an asshole.

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

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

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

That made him laugh, “What? Why?”

I shrugged, giggling with him.

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

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

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

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I nodded, “See you.”

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

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

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

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

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

"Likewise," I replied.

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

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

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

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

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veltana · 9 months

Text

Mutual Satisfaction - Avengers!Bucky x Avengers!Reader

✦ Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader

✦ Word count: ~3k

✦ Rating: Explicit

✦ Warnings: One shot, pwp, A LOT of dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics, dom!Bucky, sub!reader, manhandling, piv, slight dumbification, pet names (angel/master), safe sex, condoms, cum shot, aftercare, fluff (because I neeeeed it!)

✦ Summary: "Was it because of what I said," he leans forward to whisper into your ear. The warmth of his body pressing against yours even though he's not touching you. "Did your tiny little brain think of all the ways I could fuck you until you're a mess?"

✦ Note: This is nothing but pure self-indulgent smut, that's heavily dialogue-based. Let me know if you like it! (It's also posted on AO3)

Masterlist | AO3

The chime from your phone makes you look away from the TV screen.

"Sorry, one sec."

You find it buried under some pillows but the excitement you initially felt quickly turns sour when you see the response. With a sigh of disappointment, you drop it and return to choosing a movie together with Bucky.

"Bad news?" he asks as he flips through the list.

"Yup," you conclude.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"It's honestly nothing, just scheduling issues."

"With your boyfriend?" He wiggles his eyebrows.

"He's not my boyfriend. We just sleep together," you point out.

"I'm sure you can find someone else, you're an avenger now. Bet they're lining up to get a chance with you," Bucky shrugs.

You scrunch your nose. "I'm tired of being disappointed. I'd rather wait and have my needs met, even if it's frustrating."

"That long huh?"

"Between all the missions and not being free at the same time, it's been months."

"Yeah, same." Bucky murmurs and stops on a movie. "What about this one?"

"Yeah, sure."

You settle down against the numerous pillows you have been bringing to Bucky's room since you started having these movie nights a couple of months ago. His TV is bigger and his couch is much softer than yours. Plus the two of you fit comfortably on this one, with enough room for both to stretch out.

"So why won't just a regular guy do it for you?" Bucky asks and takes a fist of popcorn, stuffing it in his mouth.

Shrugging you say "I need someone I can trust, with my body and my mind. Takes a lot of talking in the beginning, but now it's almost as good as therapy for getting out of my head."

"Don't like thinking?"

"Not during sex. I just need someone else to make decisions for me, use me however they like. Not ask me what I want, just flip me over, make me come until I can't see straight, and fuck me until they're satisfied. If I pick someone up at a bar, all they do is slap my ass and finish a minute later."

Both of you are silent and watch the movie before you ask.

"What about you?"

"Look at me," he chuckles. "The metal arm scares the majority and the ones that are left usually can't handle what I want."

"And what do you want?"

"Control, over something, someone. Watching as they go dumber and dumber the more orgasms I can force from them. Until they can't speak. Just owning their warm body for a moment, taking as long as I need because they don't want to be anywhere else than on my cock," Bucky laughs.

The laugh gets stuck in your throat because there is no denying Bucky's words have an impact on you. Hopefully, he doesn't notice and you refuse to move and rub your thighs together. Then you both continue to watch the movie, but it's hard to concentrate. All you imagine is Bucky using your body and finally getting the release that you've been longing for. How much would it fuck up the team dynamic if you started sleeping together? You force yourself to watch the movie and not entertain those thoughts anymore.

Two hours later, after the table has been cleaned off, you're heading for the door, mind already back in your own room and the toys you'll undoubtedly need to take care of yourself to be able to sleep. Then you feel a hand on your wrist, and in a flash, you’re pinned with your back against the door, Bucky's hand securely holding both your arms above your head. You're not sure if the breath that leaves your lungs is because the force pushes it out of you or because you're instantly so turned on. Either way, there is no denying the impact his closeness has.

"So, are you going to tell me what you've been thinking about the whole movie?" There is a knowing smirk on his lips.

"What? Nothing? I was watching it."

"Don't play dumb with me, you were far off somewhere else for most of the time."

You swallow hard, opening and closing your mouth a few times. It's embarrassing that you've been on his couch, thinking lewd thoughts about him when you're not even that close—something between coworkers and friends.

"Was it because of what I said," he leans forward to whisper into your ear. The warmth of his body pressing against yours even though he's not touching you. "Did your tiny little brain think of all the ways I could fuck you until you're a mess?"

A whine crawls up your throat unbidden and you turn your head to the side, shame making your ears warm.

"All you have to do is ask," he prompts. "Or tell me to let you go and we can pretend this never happened."

The last thing is out of the question. You just need to work up enough courage to tell him what you need. Everything about him pierces your senses, making you high of his smell, touch, and sound.

In the end, all you can come up with is, "Bucky please." And bucking your hips up in the hope of finding some friction for your throbbing core.

But he just makes an unimpressed sound.

"No, you have to do better than that." Then he pauses and uses his free hand to turn your head until you're looking into his blue eyes.

"We'll go over everything properly before next time," his voice is calm and to the point. Making it clear he expects you to listen. "But right now I think we need each other. We'll use traffic lights or you'll tell me if it's too rough or too much. Understand?"

"Yes Bucky," you answer.

He releases your face and your arms, placing his hands on either side of your head instead. With a smile that makes you wetter than you already are, he says, "Good girl. Now do a better job at begging."

He is effectively displaying his whole body for you and in seconds you have your palms on his chest, caressing carefully up and down, feeling his corded muscles beneath the fabric of his t-shirt.

"Bucky please," you beg in a delicate voice. "I need you to touch me. I want to feel you everywhere. Please help me come, it hurts so bad."

His pupils dilate, almost eclipsing the blue in his eyes. Then he presses his knee up between your legs, lifting you off the ground enough that only the tip of your toes reaches the floor.

"Here, use my leg and hump it. We'll see what you deserve after that."

Oh, he's got a mean streak, you realize, and you're all for it. Wiggling on his thigh to get a better position you grab a hold of his shoulders to steady yourself and try to move. It's difficult and not nearly enough to get you where you wish but you're absolutely enjoying the way he's playing with you and speaking to you.

"Look at the innocent little angel using my leg. What else can I make you do to get off huh?"

With a whine you work faster, chasing something barely there.

"Something you'll learn very quickly, little angel, is that I don't share, but I do like showing off my property. Let everyone see but not let anyone touch."

"Yes!" you moan. "I'll be anything you need, just help me, please Bucky!"

"I'll hold you to that," he promises. Suddenly his knee is gone but instead, his body is pressed hard against yours and his lips descend. The kiss is filthy and needy, your hands grab onto his head, trying to get more of him even though he's already as close as he can come. You suck on his tongue and lips and he does the same to you, before mouthing his way over your jaw and down your neck, nipping and sucking. His beard pricks you but it's a mild discomfort to the one between your legs.

A string of needy noises tumble out of your mouth and you're about to start begging again but right then he lifts you and turns around, heading over to his large bed. As your body touches the sheets his hands start pulling at your clothes and you do the same to him. Moments later both of your are naked on the bed, making out like horny teenagers, rutting mindlessly against each other. His fingers find your hard clit, gently circling it a few times before dipping into the wetness at your opening. You mewl into his mouth in delight, thinking he's going to start filling you with his fingers, but instead, he spreads the slick back up to your clit and starts flicking it slowly.

Throwing your head back you moan his name loudly, no thoughts if you can be heard through the walls, everything is focused on the way he's touching you. His mouth finds your nipple and you get impossibly hotter and wetter. The months-long dry spell quickly catches up to you. Bucky fingers are expertly playing with you, never too hard or too light, hurling you towards the climax.

"Can I cum Bucky? Please can I cum?!"

His laugh tickles your skin, his fingers slow and he looks up at you.

"Yes, you can this time, just because you asked so nicely."

His fingers gather more of your wetness before picking up speed again. The band in your stomach quickly snaps and you scream out your release, blabbering "Thank you-thank you-thank you!"

Without getting a second to breathe you're flipped onto your stomach, then his hands lift your hips and you fold your knees in under you.

"Grab me a condom in the drawer angel," he directs and with unsteady hands and a complaining whine you open the drawer and rummage around until you find a square package.

"Don't whine when I'm trying to do the right thing," he growls and smacks your ass. "I know a little slut like you wants to be pumped full of cum until you're dripping." He leans down over you until his mouth is next to your ear, his raw dick rubbing against your sensitive cunt. Plucking the condom from your fingers he whispers, "You'll have to earn my cum, angel."

A jolt of pleasure-filled electricity shoots through you, just imagining yourself on your knees in front of him, doing anything he asks.

"I'll do anything, master," the name slips out by pure habit. "I'll be good, let you use me in any way you like, any hole. Anything to earn your cum, please, master."

A groan can be heard from behind together with the sound of the foil being torn open. Impatiently you wiggle your ass, arching your back even more, presenting yourself. In reward you get several more slaps, making you cry out as the pain shoots straight to your cunt.

"Oh, angel, keep talking sweet like that and you'll earn yourself another orgasm."

His dick notches at your opening and you still obediently. Both of you moan in unison as he presses inside. He's clearly on the bigger side but there is hardly any resistance since you're dripping with slick. In moments you're fuller than you've been in months, clawing at the sheets in front of you.

"Good girl, taking me so fucking well," his hands spread your cheeks. "I wish you could see how your greedy little pussy is swallowing me."

"Wa-want it, master, want it so much, feels so good!"

A wail leaves you as he starts pistoning his hips into you. If it weren't for the fact that he also pulls your hips back towards him every time, you'd end up with your head in the wall.

"Give me your hands," he instructs and you put them behind your back quickly, folding them and gripping your underarms. His vibranium hand closes around both your wrists while the other grabs your hair, pulling your head back.

You love his harsh grip on you, how he does what he wants with your body while he fucks you. All you can do is moan and whine and cry as he thrusts without any sign of slowing down any time soon. Usually around this time your FWB is about to come, and even though you're always satisfied in the end, sometimes you wish for more. The serum in his veins must give him superhuman stamina when it comes to everything.

Without warning he releases your hair and pulls hard on your arms, raising your body from the bed, his free hand coming round to grab your neck.

"Color?" He grunts, never missing a beat with his hips.

"Green! Bucky it's fucking green. Please! More!"

"You dirty little slut! Can't get enough of my cock huh?"

"No, master, want it always!" You cry.

"That's fucking right, god you feel so good. Next time I'm going to fuck you raw and watch the cum pour out of your pussy. How about right before Tony's big party? Put you in a short little dress with no panties so everyone can see my cum running down your legs."

The image of yourself, flustered and embarrassed while Bucky parades you around makes you keen, pushing back against him. You are nothing but his toy, he can do whatever he wants and you would gladly say 'Yes, master.'

The incessant need to come makes your legs weak, trembling from being held up and fucked within an inch of your life.

"Master, can I come? Your dick feels so good, can I please come on it?"

Releasing your wrists, his vibranium arm comes around your waist, pulling you flush with his chest before traveling down to your aching clit.

"This what you need, angel?"

The unrelenting metal against the softest part of your flesh pulls more desperate sounds from you as you try to rock against it, the pleasure eating you up from the inside, erasing every trace of cognitive thought. When you don’t answer he chuckles next to your ear, "I think my cock has made you dumb, angel. No thoughts left in that tiny little head of yours."

Your hands land on his arm, needing something to hold onto. He hasn’t permitted you yet, the orgasm is shimmering right underneath your skin, threatening to break through any second. The only thing you know is that you don’t want to disappoint him.

"My angel is doing so good, go ahead and come for me, make sure you scream my name when you do. Let everyone hear that this cunt belongs to me."

Instead of continuing with his fingers, his whole palm lands on your clit, a few slaps that don’t hurt in the slightest, only enhancing your pleasure, before the heel of his hand presses against your clit.

"Come on, show me how you look when you let go. Be a good little angel for me, come on my cock."

In a blinding light of pleasure, you scream his name, just like he wants, bending your head until it rests against his shoulder, shuddering and shaking from the release.

"Looking beautiful my little angel, so fucking pretty, strangling my cock." He hugs you tightly towards him for a second before pushing you forward. Your arms only cushion the fall lightly, there is no strength left in your body. Looking over your shoulder you see his eyes, blazing with lust, his mouth slightly open. Then he pulls out and you watch him tear the condom off, jerking himself, and with a loud groan of your name he finishes on your ass and back. As the spurts of cum hit your skin you close your eyes and sigh in contentment. Owned. Used. Satisfied for the first time in months.

With a giggle you fall to the side, uncaring if you're messing up his sheets. He lands on his back in front of you a moment later, chest still heaving.

"That was…" he begins, turning his head towards you with a small smile. Before continuing he rolls over on his side, reaching and pulling you in towards his naked chest, tilting your head up, and placing a small chaste kiss on your lips.

"Amazing? Wonderful? Mind-blowing?" you suggest with a smile to finish his sentence.

"All of the above angel."

For a couple of minutes, you lie there, just content with what just happened, before Bucky says,

"Come on, we need to clean you up."

He stands from the bed and picks you up with no effort, carrying you to the small bathroom and turning on the shower. Carefully he places you down on the tile and the warm spray is a harsh contrast to the cold sweat that has dried on your skin.

"How do you feel?"

Your only response is a happy humming noise that makes him smile, before he reaches for a bottle of shower gel. He makes you turn around, leaning your arms against the wall as he begins to clean you. His touch is firm as he washes your back and ass, giving you a light massage before he moves on to the rest of your body. Then you help him, even if what you do is mostly smear suds over his pecs. When he's done the both of you stand under the warm spray.

"Any immediate soreness?" He asks.

"No," you sigh happily. "Might feel something tomorrow, but we'll see then."

He finds you a clean towel afterward and dries you off, before handing you a t-shirt and a pair of his boxers. Without questioning you put them on.

Fortunately, the sheets have minimal staining and both of you are too exhausted to care about changing them. Suddenly you realize you've just fucked Bucky and now you're staying in his bed for the night, with your head resting on his chest.

"What is this Bucky?" you mumble, even as sleep is dragging you down.

"Whatever you want it to be, angel, we'll work out the details in the morning," he assures you.

And if the other people at the compound heard you the night before, or notice that you're wearing one of Bucky's t-shirts to breakfast the next day, nobody says a word.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #avengers!bucky barnes #avengers!bucky barnes x avengers!reader #dom!bucky #sub!reader #veltana writes

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swanhaze · 9 months

Text

KISSES ON THE BEACH — conrad fisher x reader

warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, pt2 of on the beach

the tweets from the birds fill the girls ears meaning that it was time for a new day, she didn’t want to get up just yet, not ready to face anyone, so she pulled the blanket over her face just for it to pulled off her a couple seconds later.

“wake up sweetheart.” the tone was sarcastic and she knew who it was immediately, couldn’t he just leave her alone? yn remembered everything from the party last night and she was embarrassed, embarrassed that she let herself get to that point, embarrassed that she basically exposed herself to the person that she loves, her best friends ex.

she groans reaching for the blanket only for him to hold it out of her reach, “conrad, give me like five minutes.” yn says getting up from the floor to get the blanket out his hands, a wave hits her and she now remembers how much alcohol she had last night, she could really go for Jeremiah’s smoothie’s right about now.

he shakes his head, balling up the blanket and holding it above his head and out of yn’s reach, “nope,you need to wake up.”

“I’m awake right now aren’t I?” she says tugging on his arm, “just give me five minutes, do you see how hung over I am right now?”

“and who’s fault is that?” he asks tauntingly, “we also need to talk.” his face now becoming serious.

yn finally tugs the blanket out of his hand and decides to fold the blanket, “talk about what?” she knows exactly what he’s talking about.

“you know what I’m talking about yn.” he sighs frustrated, “don’t even try to act like last night didn’t happen.” he starts his eyes not leaving her, “you said a lot and did a lot, and we need to talk about this because it doesn’t just affect you, it affects me as well.”

she just shakes her head walking over to the corner of the room to put down the blanket, she didn’t want to talk about it, she didn’t want to be put in another vulnerable situation.

“can you go back to being a jerk who doesn’t know how to communic-?”

“yn!” the familiar voice cuts yn off and she stands rigid, she looks at conrad in shock, “laurel is here?” she whisper shouts at him.

“belly called her.” he shrugs scratching the back of his neck, remembering the reason why he woke up yn in the first place.

“of course she did.” yn whispers to herself, can this whole summer get any worse?

“conrad I told you to wake her up to help clean, what’s taking so long?” the voice shouts up the stairs again.

yn smiles realizing this is an opportunity to avoid having a certain conversation with conrad, “I guess duty calls.” yn shrugs, brushing past the taller boy.

“yn-” he tries to call out but she’s already out the room.

taylor held her bag over her shoulder as she set her sharp gaze on yn, who leaned against one of the walls, “what?” she whispered to the blonde.

“I think you should talk to belly.” taylor said straightforwardly raising her hands when yn opens her mouth to protest, “I’ll be leaving and you won’t have me to stick beside the whole time.” she saying pointing down the stairs.

“I don’t understand why I have to talk to her.” yn shrugs, “I’ve been fine this whole year.”

“yn I heard about last night.” taylor sighs, “as someone who actually goes to therapy, this isn’t healthy at all, I understand you and that’s why I took your side.” she lets out a deep sigh, “but I miss when we were a trio I miss having both of by best friends.”

“Taylor just because you miss our friend group doesn’t mean I have to forgive and forget things with belly, she hurt me, she betrayed me, I trusted her the most when it came to my feelings for him.” yn says angrily.

“I understand that yn, but I just want you to talk to her, you don’t have to be besties, but please talk to her, for me?” Taylor says clasping her hands together.

yn rolls her eyes as her friend gives her puppy dog eyes, “I’ll think about it…”

“yes!”

“don’t get to excited let’s get you to the door and out of my sight.”

“this is so disgusting.” yn says to herself as she looks out the window only to witness steven kissing taylor, she hears a familiar laugh and a presence beside her, “tell me about it.” she turns only to come face to face with belly.

out of instinct yn face falls and she gets ready to turn around and walk away from the window but then she remembers taylor’s words, “belly?” she says quietly.

“hum.” the brunette hums turning to face yn.

“we need to talk.”

“we do.” belly says playing with her hands, “you go first.”

“okay..” yn trails off preparing herself for some vulnerability, something she’s not a fan of, “belly you were my best friend, you are my best friend.” she starts, “you knew how much of a crush I had on conrad , I told you everything I knew about him and all my feelings for him, just for me to see you guys kissing on the beach.” yn says tearfully, “I honestly just want to know why? why did you do that to me.”

belly’s gaze stills for a couple of moments before and nods and takes a deep breath, “I-I loved him yn.” she starts,cringing when you roll your eyes, “I loved him as long as you have but before I got a chance to tell you, you already told me about your feelings for him and I knew just from then that my chances with him was slim to none, you’re so pretty and smart and make the best decisions that I knew conrad had to like you back.” belly says inching closer to you.

“and he did, he does.” belly said wiping a year from her eye, “and before I say this promise me yn you won’t be more mad then you already are.”

“I can’t promise that.” yn says shaking her head, she doesn’t know what belly is about to say but she knows it’s gonna be bad just by the look on her face.

“yn, promise me.”

yn reluctantly nodded, knowing to well that she doesn’t mean it, “I promise.”

“okay..” belly starts again, “I decided during to spring before the summer of last year, to call conrad and check in.” yn raised her brow at this, “he didn’t say much, he didn’t seem in the mood which is understandable now, but he did mention that he was excited to see you.”

yn tries her best to fight down the smile and tries to make its way to her face at the last sentence as nods for belly go continue.

“and that hurt me so much, because I knew that, that summer was gonna be different for me and for you, there was this feeling in my chest that told me that you and conrad were gonna end up together but I didn’t want that.” belly says more tears running down her face, “so I told conrad that you were excited for come to the beach house as well cause this would be the summer that you would confess your feelings to jeremiah.”

yn feels like her chest is heavy, she can’t breathe, “what?”

“I’m so sorry yn.” belly cries taking both of your hands in hers, your to shock to even pull away, “I just loved him so much that I became selfish and it got in the way of both yours and his happiness.”

“belly..” yn says trying to fight back her tears, “why? why did you do that?”

“I’m sorry.” belly cries, “please yn I love you so much you’re my best friend and I hate myself for what I did to you and how I’ve been acting, this is just all so fucked .”

“belly..” yn starts, “I don’t think I can forgive you, you’re right this is all so fucked up.”

“I know and I don’t blame you, and I don’t know what to do.” belly sniffs as she wipes her tears, “but I can do this, please talk to conrad yn, he is so in love with you, he’s head over heals in love with you, all he thinks about is you even when we were dating, he was so worried about you because of how distant you had been.” belly says rushingly.

“I don’t know…”

“do you know what susannah had said to me when we visited her before she did?” belly asks and you shake your head, “she said tell yn to take care of my older boy.”

this is what makes yn cry, tears rush to her eyes and all she can do is lean into belly, “she knew that you and conrad were meant to be, I know that you and conrad are meant to be, but I was to selfish to admit it to myself, so please yn please talk to him and be happy I want you to be happy.” belly says wrapping her arms around yn.

“you’re the sister that I never had and I can’t believe I let a boy get between us, so talk to him yn.” belly says unwrapping her arms from yn, “just know that I love you no matter what, I don’t care if you hate me and never want to talk to me again, I will always be here.”

all yn can do is nod.

“so talk to him yn, I think he’s on the beach.” and with that belly is gone up the stairs.

the ocean breeze hits yn as she walks through the sand and towards the older boy who sits in front of the water, she’s gonna talk to him, she’s gonna put her heart on the line.

she lets out a deep sigh as she takes a seat beside him on the sand, “what a morning huh?”

he looks shocked to see her, “yeah…” he nods, “uh, yn I know you don’t want to but we need to tal-”

“I know.” she cuts him off, “I’ve been doing a lot of that this morning.” she laughs to herself as he looks at her confused.

yn takes a deep breath before turning her gaze to his face, “conrad I’m in love with you, I’ve been in love with you practically my whole life.”

warmth comes to his cheeks as he nods urging her to continue.

“you dating belly hurt me a lot, because a little piece of me thought you liked me, but you ended up liking my best friend who also knew that I liked you.” yn says as she looks down at the sand, playing with it slightly.

“yn I didn’t kno-”

“I know con.” she says looking back up at him, “I know.”

conrad stands up holding his hand out to you to pull you up, as you take his hand your eyes never leave each other.

“yn I’ve been in love with you for a while.” he starts, “and when belly told me that you liked jeremiah, that hurt like crazy, cause just like you I thought you liked me but it turned out you liked my brother.” he says grabbing your hands. “belly comforted me about it and I thought maybe this will help me get over you but it didn’t.”

“because I’m so in love with you yn it’s unbelievable, words can’t even explain how much I love you.” he rambles pulling you closer to him by the loops of your shorts.

you smile feeling heat climb up your neck, “ I knew you were obsessed with me deep down.” you joke.

he laughs shaking his head at your joke, “so what do we do now?” you ask.

“yn you have my heart.” he starts, “so please don’t break it.”

a smile makes it way to your face, “I won’t.” you whisper.before you pull him down by the strings of his sweater, pressing your lip’s gently onto his.

you feel him smile as he grabs both sides of her face, deepening the kiss.

he pulls away for a second, “don’t break it I mean it.” he says before pulling you back into a kiss again.

you won’t, you’re gonna take care of his just as much as he will take care of yours.

taglist: @bakugou-luva @elcpsstuff @spencerstits @chocolatefartstrawberry @vict688 @amysangel @junnnileee07 @tvije @fearlessmoony @starkeylover @wishyouwere-sober @sublimepenguinpeach-blog

#the summer i turned pretty #tsitp conrad #Conrad fisher #conrad x reader #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x reader #belly conrad #jeremiah fisher #the summer i turned pretty x reader

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judes-hoe · 8 days

Text

Bitter rivals, sweet love

Parrings~ Lewis Hamilton x OC

Summary~She’s gonna be in f1 for her third year and goes to a team no one expects her to. She’s always got a cold expression and only those close to her know why. Shes been close one to many times to winning a championship and this year she’s gonna get it no matter what.

Warnings~ google translated Italian, mentioned crying,

A/N~ so doing the Japanese Grand Prix and then after that skipping to the Miami Grand Prix, just because I don’t wanna write every single race or this series will be soooo long. So the I’ll write the Japanese GP cause it’ll be the first time of many of having to share a hotel!!!! Next chapter will be in Miami btw we skipping china lol but I’ll mention who wins it lol!!

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4

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

Vanessa had just arrived at the hotel room she’ll be sharing with Lewis. She settled down and laid on the one bed scrolling on her phone watching edits that popped up of her. She loved when the fans made edits of her, let her know she was appreciated.

Around 20 minutes later she heard a knock and immediately rolled her eyes knowing it’s Lewis. She gets up as slow as possible before going to open the door, when she did she was met with the British man with his suitcase. She rolled her eyes and walked in the room. Lewis caught the door before it could close and walked in placing his stuff on the other bed.

“Good to see you too.” He smirked. “stai zitto.” She said to him before going back to her phone. “You know I know Italian right?” He smirked at her laying on his bed. “non me ne frega un cazzo.” She said rolling her eyes.

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

It was a couple hours later, now in the paddock for media. She just sat on the couch for the interviews. She was with max, Lando, Charles, and Carlos.

About 20 minutes in she finally got asked a question, “hello Vanessa, you have 3 races, that includes this one, till your 1st home race as you have 2 through the season, how do you feel.” The man asked. “Well I can’t wait honestly, it’s always a different feeling racing in your country, and as my fans know if I win my home race I wanna be edit to the song ‘Viva La Vida’ same song every year.” Vanessa said with a smile. “Why that song?” He asked. “Well there’s nothing behind it, it’s just gives me winner vibes, but to my fans again if you wanna make a more calm edit do white Ferrari by frank ocean.” She said with another smile.

They then continue with the interview and she gets a few more questions before leaving the interview. “Nessa wanna come to lunch with us?” Carlos asked standing next to Lando, Max, and Charles. “Sure, got nothing else to do.” She shrugged going with them.

When they got to the place to eat Charles leans over a whispers. “I saw Lewis going into your room about 25 minutes after you, what’s that about?” He smirked when he asked. “Toto got mad at us after what happened in Australia so he talked to our managers and we have to share a room for the rest of the season and do “couples therapy” and if we don’t fix our rival by the end of the season we both lose our seats.” Vanessa said looking at Charles with an annoyed expression. “You and Lewis have to share a room!” He said a little to loud making the other 3 men look at the 2 with a smirk. “It’s not like that.” She groaned and explained the whole story again.

“You guys can’t tell anyone though.”she said with a serious expression. “If I hear someone talk about this that isn’t any of us, I’m killing you all.” She spoke before taking a bite of her food which made the guys nod their heads quickly before also eating their food.

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

She walks into the hotel room after he lunch with Carlos, Charles, Lando, and max. She sees Lewis laying on his bed shirtless and his chest a little wet. “Your staring a little hard sweetheart, see something you like?” He smirks when he notices her. “No, and stop calling me sweetheart.” She said annoyed. “If you say that I’m gonna keep calling you it.” He said with a cocky smile.

Vanessa grabs her pajamas which was just a t-shirt her dad always wore, and some shorts. She then walks to the bathroom and closes the door and starts the shower. She gets in the shower and relaxes under the hot water.

Vanessa gets out the shower, and gets changed into the pajamas. She walks out back into the room, putting the dirty clothes away and sitting on her bed. “Who’s on the shirt?” Lewis asked her. “My dad’s favorite band.” She said not wanting to talk to him. “Then why are you wearing it?” He asked again. “Cause I can!” She raised her voice a little. “God you ask so many questions.” She said turning on her side so she doesn’t have to look at him.

“Didn’t have to yell was just wondering why you’re wearing the shirt and not him.” He said. Vanessa stops all her movements and just lays there, her mind going back to that night. “Because there’s a reason, now I’ll be back im going for a walk.” She said getting up and slamming the door before walking down the hallway knocking on a door.

The door opened to reveal Daniel in a shirt and shorts. “What are you doing here it’s 7pm?” He asked when he saw her. “Can I just come in.” She asked softly. He nodded and let her in and she sat on the edge of his bed. “Me and Lewis have to share a hotel room for the rest of the season as punishment by Toto and by the end of the season if our rival isn’t fixed and put aside for the team we lost our seats, and he just asked me about this shirt and I told him and he asked why am I wearing it and not my dad.” She rambles to Daniel and starts to tear up when she stops.

Daniel now knows why she came here, cause she felt herself going to cry and knows she’s only comfortable crying around him. “It’s ok, it’s ok darling.” He said pulling her in a hug and petting her hair. “He probably doesn’t know, a lot of people on the grid don’t know.” He said kissing the top of her head. “Stay with me for a little we can watch a movie and then you can go back to your room.” He said pulling her away and wiped her tears away. “Ok.” She said going to say in his bed.

He got his computer and logged in giving it to her to play a movie. Vanessa picked the first avatar movie cause it’s one of her favorites.

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

After the movie she said by to Daniel before going back to her hotel room. She did have a key so she knocked on the door. The door opened shortly after to reveal Lewis, she rolled her eyes at him and went and laid in her bed. Plugged her phone in and laid on her side away from Lewis going to sleep.

Lewis knew something was wrong and said something to upset her which he didn’t like. He stayed up an hour after she went to sleeping try to think about it before falling asleep.

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

Vanessa woke up, not to her alarm, but to grunt like noises. She looked at her phone and saw 6am on it. She still had 45 minutes till she woke up. She turned on her side and saw Lewis on the floor doing push ups.

“It’s six in the morning why are you up?” She asked mildly angry. “Had to get my morning work out in.” Lewis said stopping a sitting back on his knees with a little shrug. “Well now you share a room respect people who trying to still sleep!” She let out a huff and got out the bed going into the bathroom.

Vanessa walks out the bathroom and now sees Lewis getting ready to take a shower. He walked into the bathroom when she walked out. When she heard the shower turn on she started to undress and get dressed for the day, because no chance she’s going back to sleep.

After she changes it’s around 8am now. She left the hotel and to her car to head to the paddock. Before she headed to the garage she walked around the paddock and ran into Charles.

“Charles.” She said with a little excitement in her voice. “Good luck this weekend I know it means something to you.” She said with a little smile giving him a hug when he leans in. “Thanks mon amor I appreciate it.” He said with a smile. “Well I’ll talk to you later need to head back to my garage.” He spoke. “Ok see ya later Charlie.” She says smiling before going to her own garage.

Vanessa walks in and sees him talking to Toto, but she walks in the opposite direction to Calvin. She talks to Calvin for a bit before getting ready for FP1.

In her drivers room she put on her fireproofs and then her suit. Grabbing her helmet and going to stand next I Calvin. “Ready?” Vanessa asked looking over his shoulder at the screen. “Yes put your helmet on!” He said patting her shoulder.

She quickly put on the balaclava, kissing the two names on her helmet. Then putting the helmet on and getting in the car.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~skip to race day~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vanessa had done well in all FP, and managed to get a P3 in qualifying. Lewis in P2, max in P1. She had Charles and Lando behind her which he didn’t really care about.

They all lined up on the grid and the lights slowly flickered on.

“It’s lights out and away we go!”

She had tried to overtake Lewis on the first turn my didn’t mange keeping their gap close together, but also managing to get a gap between Lando.

A couple laps in, Lewis changed his tyres. Vanessa being able to take his spot and get a good 3 seconds gap while he was in the pit. Lewis getting out just in time to be in front on Charles.

A another few laps goes by and Lewis closed the gap, catching up to Vanessa. Max boxed so now she was P1 and Lewis P2.

The 45 lap is when Lewis manages to overtake Vanessa in P1 with DRS. Now she has to watch max behind her, just want she wants. “Gap between me and max?” She asked Calvin on the radio. “2 seconds.” He replied. “Good enough.” She says back to him which made him smile.

For the rest of the race she stayed in P2 having to defend from max a few times but built the gap back up, almost overtaking Lewis a few times too but just not enough.

So here they are standing on the podium now, P1 Lewis, P2 Vanessa, and P3 max. When they took the picture she made sure her a Lewis had some(a lot) of space between them with a half fake smile on her face.

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

That next morning Vanessa left to go back to Monaco before the Chinese Grand Prix.

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

A/N ~ watch out next chapter it might be a little heart breaking and sad😭

Taglist: @happy-golden-hour @tallrock35

#judes-hoe😚#lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x oc #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton #mercedes amg f1 #f1 2024 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1

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jwirecs · 6 months

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RECOMMENDED SEVENTEEN FICS OF NOVEMBER 2023💖

hello, hello! here are my recs for seventeen for november! hopefully these beautiful stories get more recognition as well as the writers 💝

** anything in parentheses and bolded are my thoughts that can be disregarded if needed **

🔞smut || 💔angst || 💕fluff || ✅completed || 🔄ongoing || 💯favorite

Loud Leather & Loud Thoughts || @bitchlessdino💕💔✅💯

↳ Hard to maintain a good acquaintanceship if it started off on the wrong foot, but Wonwoo tries to do just that, no matter how much you resent him from childhood. Now reunited as adults, you’re questioning whether your negative impression of him has stuck since being away or have you grown up just enough to realize how much between the two you have changed?. (bitchlessdino aint gon be bitchless no longer cause honey, i will be on my knees for your fics. biker!wonwoo is my new guilty pleasure.)

Too Much || @hannieehaee🔞💕✅💯💯

↳ after a few weeks of constant overtime work slouching over a desk, you feel as if your back is about to give out on you. fortunately for you, your best friend seungcheol is a professional masseuse! unfortunately for you, you're unsure of how you'll keep your crush on your best friend at bay while on his massage bed, ass up and oiled up. (the last time i had a massage, i swear i thought the masseuse broke my arm cause of a loud pop. scared me and the masseuse LMAO, but we okay. but can you imagine, cheols hands....im just gonna stop there. let the imagination run)

Always Only You || @honeyhotteoks🔞💕💔✅💯💯💯

↳ the date was terrible, awful even, but you just can't call your brother to pick you up. you have to call his best friend instead. (brb imma need a hot minute to relive this fic. like no joke, my ass will be in the corning if you need me. bottom line, i absolutely loved this one)

5 More Minutes || @qmrzi💕✅

↳ jihoon is working on a song before your date together and you got impatient. (he really would be the type to say 5 more minutes of work before a date. desperate times calls for desperate measures. i respect the oc's hustle.)

Bedroom Exclusive || @onlyhuis🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ seeing your boyfriend on tv kissing another girl definitely doesn't feel good, but he's got plenty of time to make it up to you. and he plans on letting you know that you're the only one on his mind. (AFTER THAT VID OF HIM IN THAT DRAMA WITH THAT ONE SCENE???? OHHHHHHHHHHHHH CHILD. another fic where i had to take a moment to breathe after i finished reading it. that says a whole lot my friends.)

Just The Tip || @euphor1a🔞💕💔✅💯💯

↳ he tried his best, he really did. but lord, for how long could he control himself when you looked like a pretty, little angel, all his to ruin? (you gotta give it to mingyu for resisting the urge throughout the story. flash a titty and this man will crumble to the ground. i love it.)

Now You're Safe With Me || @thedensworld💕💔✅💯

↳ Seungcheol received several missed calls from you, and he knew they weren't just regular phone calls. (stop this bby boy will drop heaven and earth to be with his boo. lets all pray that i get a man like him.)

Spotted: Woozi At Couples Therapy? || @mphountitled🔞💕💔✅

↳ A kink confession in couple's therapy might just save your relationship (i think its safe to say that this man is lowkey kinky af. lets be real. the dudes prob kinky.)

Sweet Home || @mangocustard16💕✅

↳ Mingyu returns home after a grueling practice to find you asleep on the couch, having waited for him despite his advice not to. He lifts you into his arms, shares a loving dinner, and the two of you cuddle in each other's embrace. (god soft mingyu is cute af. SOMEONE GET ME A MINGYU PLS)

To Be In Love || @daegutowns💕✅

↳ (a lil ol fic of oc's relationship with cheol. ngl oc is literally the mom of the group now. adopted 11 other children once they got with cheol. i love that for them)

Bloodily Safe || @starlightxsvt🔞💕✅💯

↳ you have a little secret. one you are desperately hiding. yet the boy you have a crush on has figured it out. now a game of cat and mouse has begun. how do you make it out alive? (oooh child. this one. had me questioning what the heck do i read on here, but then again, i fully enjoyed it LMAO)

Clingy || @facioleeknow💕💔✅

↳ Anon Req: hi!! saw that you're taking request!! how about something like jeonghan get annoyed by the reader because he thinks reader is too clingy lately so he decided to put some distance, end up with something bad happens to reader and he regrets everything he did? angst to fluff pls thank u so much 😭🫶 (oooh mean jeonghan is lowkey my guilty pleasure. someone give me some more mean jeonghan which turns into fluff please.)

Creep || @smileysuh🔞✅💯💯💯

↳ “If the roles were reversed - if you were a ghost bound to this apartment forever - you’re saying you wouldn’t watch me get naked every day?” He’s definitely got a point. As your eyes skim Mingyu's perfect form again, that tingle returns between your legs. There’s no reason for him to be as sexy as he is- murders aren’t the only shocking thing this man has under his belt and you can see that now. (ngl, i hope theres gonna be a second part just about how they would like overcome(????) the hardships(?????????) idk if those are the right words. but like how they would deal with one being a ghost and all that jazz. like down the line how will that work out. BUT other than that, i honestly love their fics to god.)

Driving Lessons For Dummies || @shuaflix🔞💕✅

↳ you've finally passed your written test and gotten your permit after six failed attempts. eager to get your license while attempting to avoid overpriced driving lessons, you enlist the help of kwon soonyoung, who only requires a STIIZY pod as payment. (lowkey got a fear of driving but thats something else LMAO. i respect all of the driving teachers, cause like they risking their life essentially, so i respect hoshi for risking his life with teaching the oc driving. goodluck to my future boo cause imma be the passenger princess in the relationship.)

In Between Notes || @som1ig💕💔✅

↳ after complaining for the hundredth time to your friends, you finally manage to take time to read a book unrelated to law studies. since you can’t borrow it, you decide to leave a note on the page where you left off with a comment. the next day, when you come back to reread it, you surprisingly find a note replacing yours. someone read the same book as you and answered you. then begin an epistolary exchange through notes and book, until it suddenly stops. and no, you won’t give up until you find who your correspondent was. (minghao is such a cutie, stop. connecting through notes through a book is adorable af. literally cinderella)

Love You Twice || @toruro🔞💕💔🔄

↳ in which your extremely hot and sexy one night stand turns out to be your son’s teacher. naturally, chaos ensues, but you might just find love as your life continues to take an unexpected turn. (teacher woo is satan. dont come for me but yall know this man probably has 0 patience. no scratch that, this man has too much patience. he will wait if he has to. step daddy woo. yes pls)

Accidentally Ditching You On your Bday || @hannieehaee💔✅

↳ (title says it all. i love how i can just put myself in the oc's shoes and FEEL THE EMOTIONS. when you arent in a relationship, you through yourself in the oc shoes and live through them. that being said, them boys who "accidentally" ditch you on your birthday can choke on a piece of rice. with love.)

Petite S/O Trying to Kiss Them || @seokminded💕✅💯

↳ (its the hhu again - im short, most us females are short so we can highly relate to this struggle. LMAO)

Playfully Dodging Their Kisses || @mangocustard16💕✅💯

↳ (its the hhu but, do you hear their pouts??? you can literally hear their pouts. each any every one of them i swear to god.)

Forgetting Your B-Day || @toruro💕💔✅

↳ (there isnt a summary but - 95 line forgetting your birthday. brb let me go quickly cry, as someone who doesnt really celebrate their birthday as like a big thing since we just aging, but this would hit me hard if i was in a relationship ngl.)

Do check out all of the other seventeen fics that i have reblogged as well!!

** if there is any fics that you guys would like to recommend, please do! i am slowly running out of fics to read **

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen smut #seventeen friends to lovers au #seventeen childhood friends to lovers au #seventeen texts au #seventeen reactions #seventeen established relationship au #svt fic recs #svt recs

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miguelschamp · 4 months

Text

you are in love

pairing: miguel diaz x fem!reader

summary: miguel gets tired of you avoiding him and finally confronts you

warnings: none

a/n: it’s wild that this is my first miguel imagine considering my username lmao 😭

growing up, you always thought love was fake. your parents always pretended like they were this happy couple in front of others when in reality as soon as they got home, it went down the drain.

you associated love with constant fighting and never truly being happy. even when you were younger, you vowed to never fall in love.

so, when a boy makes his way into the valley and manages to make you fall head over heels, it scared you.

miguel was probably the most genuine person you’ve ever met. truly caring about the people around him and managing to put a smile on their faces. especially yours.

you noticed how you really felt after miguel’s accident. it sounds bad, you knew that, but it wasn’t as bad as it seemed.

you knew before that you maybe had a small crush on the boy, but seeing him laying there after falling from the second floor quite literally almost killed you.

you were a wreck waiting for updates on him and if he was going to be okay. you ran straight to the hospital when his mother let you know that he was okay and was awake.

seeing him in the hospital bed with that same smile he always gave you made you realize just how hard you had fallen.

you tried sticking around for as long as you could. you managed to stay long enough to see him get out of the hospital and start “therapy” with johnny. you were there whenever he was finally able to stand. his eyes wide as he hugged you. you didn’t know how he couldn’t feel your heart beating against him, but hugged him back just as tight. but as the days went on, miguel realized you wouldn’t come around as much.

you would come up with random excuses whenever he asked to hang out. he would see you at school and call out for you, but you would rush off.

he couldn’t figure out what he had done or said to make you avoid him. his heart would drop whenever you ignored him like you didn’t even know who he was.

a couple of weeks had passed and a lot had happened. a huge fight at sam’s house between cobra kai and the other dojos. miguel harbored a few injuries, but would recover just fine.

he sat with his friends at a small pizza joint in town. his mind elsewhere and each other them noticed. they couldn’t take it anymore.

“dude, just talk to her.” hawk sighs. miguel looks up to notice all of their eyes on him.

“what ?”

“y/n.” demetri reiterates, “talk to her. you would think someone just ran over your dog by how you’re looking right now.”

“she won’t talk to me.” miguel shrugs, “i don’t know what i did wrong.”

“well, you’ll never know if you don’t talk to her.” hawk says, “she can’t avoid you forever.”

miguel looks down as he thinks over his friends words. what they said had some truth to it. he wouldn’t be to fix whatever was wrong if you don’t talk. and you couldn’t avoid him forever.

right ?

•••

you had no idea who had just knocked on your door seeing as no one had planned to come over. both of your parents were at work leaving you alone.

you sigh as you unlock the door and swing it open. your eyes were wide and you could’ve sworn your heart stopped.

“miguel.” you mumble

“hey, y/n.” he tries giving a small smile, “look, i know i should’ve told you i was coming, but i didn’t want to you come up with an excuse to not see me.”

your heart sinks. you hadn’t realized that miguel noticed your absence. you clear your throat as you try coming with yet another excuse, “i wasn’t avoiding you. i was just-“

“you were ignoring me, y/n.” he says, “just admit it.”

you blink. you couldn’t lie anymore, “okay, fine. yeah, i- i was ignoring you.”

his eyes soften as a small frown takes over his face, “why ?” he asks softly, “did i do something ?”

“no.” you say quickly, “you didn’t do anything.”

“then did something happen ?”

“no.” you sigh. you step out onto the porch closing your door behind you, “i’ve been lying to you this whole time, so i’m just gonna come out and say it.”

miguel straightens up as you look around, “okay.”

“i like you. a lot.” you blurt, “i love you actually, but i can’t.”

miguel furrows his brows, “what do you mean ?”

“because love isn’t a good thing. i see my parents who are supposed to be married and in love and all they do is yell and scream at each other. if that’s love, i don’t want to experience that.”

“y/n.” he says stepping closer, “that’s not everyone’s experience and it doesn’t have to be yours. love is a beautiful thing when it’s done right.”

“well, i don’t know what that’s like.” you say, “i felt myself falling for you and i got scared. i pushed you away because i thought it would be easier.”

“i don’t want you to push me away.” he says softly. you look up at him and notice the look in his eyes. you’ve never seen it before.

which was unfortunate because it had been there the whole time.

“what am i supposed to do, miguel ?” you shrug, “just be in love with my best friend ?”

miguel smiles, “well, yeah because i’m in love with you, too.” he chuckles as your eyes grow wide, “what ?”

“you just assumed that i didn’t feel the same way about you.” he says

“i didn’t..” you trail off, “i’m sorry.”

“don’t be.” he says shaking his head. “maybe you can make it up to me.”

you nod, “yeah, absolutely. what is it ?”

you watch as he becomes nervous under your gaze. his next words so soft you almost don’t hear them, “let me kiss you.”

you blink rapidly as his words repeat in your head. you were going crazy. he didn’t just say that. did he ?

miguel takes your silence as a rejection. his cheeks growing hot as he stumbles over his words, “you don’t have to. i’m sorry.”

you finally snap out of it as you hear him apologize profusely. you lean up and kiss him. miguel stumbles back a little before catching himself and wrapping his arms around your waist.

your hands go to his cheeks as you let out a sigh. as you pull away, miguel looks down at you with nothing but pure love in his eyes.

if he always looked at you like this, maybe you could get used to being in love.

#miguel diaz #miguel diaz x reader #miguel diaz imagine #xolo maridueña #cobra kai #cobra kai imagine #miguelschamp

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insanescriptist · 10 days

Text

Cremation is just another fun(erl) service

So blaming random 4am thoughts that have been plaguing me all day for this

----

Jason woke to a bright room, thin sheets and the smell of a hospital embedded in his body.

First as always, assess. Hospital. No affiliation printed on the walls or anywhere. Private room, but small. That door looked like it led to a private bathroom. Generic flower picture, a mounted screen turned off. Really fucking bright sunlight from the windows.

There was no fucking way he was in Gotham then. Everything was too nice. Normal by standards outside of Gotham. There were blinds, not metal shutters. The walls were cleaner than Gotham allowed outside of Downtown and he could see greenery through the window.

Okay. So what had he been doing? Jason remembered and then wished he had his Jerichos to shoot himself with. Mystic Shit™. Okay. Okay. That was not one of his better ideas, but if he's recovering in a hospital, it worked. World saved.

So recovery. How fucked was he?

His skin looked so fucked. Which meant he had been worse. He's had time to recover and lose muscle tone in, going by how twiggy his arms were. His hands looked good. Clearly someone knew he cared about those if they went through the effort of restoring those.

Hmm, that was odd. No matter how much Jason hated the Lazarus Pits and all its by-products, it would have been a faster and more simple way to recover from near-death than the long incarceration in a hospital for a John Doe.

Jason wasn't sure if he'd been abandoned yet again by those who called themselves his family because he could, "take care of himself," or if he had been written off dead. Again.

Hospital beat the coffin by a long shot.

And it was with that cheery thought, a nurse -obvious meta human nurse- came in and burst into excited Japanese, because that was of course, his luck.

It's after the nurse and doctors leave that Jason loses his shit.

It looks like he's sulking in bed, but mentally everything in his head is exploding. Imploding.

Three. Fucking. Years. Coma.

Burn victim so bad they not only expected him to die in the first couple of days, but still expect it because of the infection risk his fucked up skin represents.

Still the conversation with the medical staff -of varying degrees of bizarre- was enlightening.

No, he has no idea who he is. Did he ever get anyone visit? How did he get here?

Of course some amnesia is to be expected. No, some of the nurses visited. No one knows how he got here.

Does he know what his quirk is? Uh?

Trauma blocked amnesia, the doctor mutters.

What's the last date he remembered?

Saturday. Maybe? The last year? No, I'm pretty sure my memory is shit and I'm trying hard not to freak out over not knowing anything. So could I get the year number?

And then there's the fucking year number. Once he got it translated into more normal terms.

Mystic Shit™ said fuck you to the future.

Except Jason knows this is not his future. Again, if it was, this would have been treated as a fucking inconvenience. Effective skin restoration goop -the proper name escaped him- was easily available to those with the right connections. A normal baseline human with 2nd and 3rd degree burns would be fine in less than two weeks with it, with nary a trace to show for it.

Thanks to the three year coma, his muscles were all atrophied as fuck, despite their best attempts at physical therapy. Because of all the burns and later burn scars and infections making it basically impossible to actually do fuck all about maintaining muscle tone until he was basically burnt skin and bones anyway.

He was so fucking weak now. It wouldn't last forever. He'd escape this hospital before he was discharged, before whatever "benefactor" showed up for whatever "purpose," he was suppose to serve now, as they had the medical debt over his head or was threatening his loved ones or whatever. If one didn't show up in the next week, he was losing his genre-savviness, because shitheads always wanted to claim shit, if it looked useful.

And Jason was used to looking useful, until he was no longer useful and they just didn't care. The amnesia made him less shiny, but Jason couldn't pull off the brain dead zombie imitation without actually being a brain dead zombie crawling up out of his grave.

So under the thin hospital sheets, Jason twitched his muscles.

Two weeks of emotional freak outs, watching the news, physical therapy and drugs Jason had had enough.

And he broke out.

----

Yeah, he regretted it almost immediately. Hard not to in the stupid paper gown, barefoot and bare ass.

Thankfully people were people, even with the plethora of meta humans he had seen, so it actually wasn't hard to find clothes. Someone left a hoodie in their car and Jason broke into said car. Put on the hoodie. Hotwired the car and drove off.

Somehow for being in the fucking future by two centuries and change, cars really hadn't changed. More evidence of Mystic Shit™ slamming him sideways.

He drove to the next town over, picked another direction, drove some more. Parked the car near what looked like a chop shop, negotiated the car for some money. He probably got ripped off, but better than nothing.

He walked to a corner store, bought some flip-flops after bullshitting an excuse that his had broken. First aid stuff. You know, for his feet. Hair dye in three different colors, because Rose Wilson could pick out a bad dye job at a hundred meters and so Jason learned how to dye his own hair properly so as to avoid her mockery, only to get mockery (affectionate) anyway.

It was a mix of instinct and lifelong observation that let him find an empty apartment quickly. He stole some sweatpants and passed out on the bed.

----

The thing is, Jason doesn't regret his crimes like Bruce thinks he ought to do, with a massive pity party and flaming self-hatred and punching criminals instead of shooting them. He hates the necessity of doing crimes, even if that crime is a net gain to society, but that's why all his serious crimes are premeditated. He's homicidal, not a psychopath.

Not Pit-mad either, no matter what the rest of them might have thought.

Again, he's homicidal, not a psychopath. And when he doesn't have to be some sort of costume soldier to be discarded by family for the disgrace of disfiguring the memory of a dead boy? He's actually chill and boring.

That is to say, he crashed at that apartment for three days, felt progressively more like himself, especially after the dye job -white hair all over, now a solid and boring black- but it still didn't change all the other issues the Mystic Shit™ inflicted on him.

This body isn't actually his. Too young, scars not right where the burns didn't fuck him over. Thankfully his existing coping mechanisms for dysphoria work and it's shoved to the side.

It's also a shit body. Not even a month out of a three year coma with inadequate -by his standards- of medical care. It's weak and building muscle to do everyday civilian shit, is going to take months to do. Pushing as hard as he did during the escape wrecked him the next three days. Jason may not know what's going to happen, but with his luck, it's going to suck and training is preparing to make it suck less. The only certainty he's got is that his skin or lack thereof is going to kill him from infection if he doesn't fix it.

He's got no legal identity here. Which basically puts him back onto familiar ground of legally dead.

Beyond the lack of paperwork, he's got a lack of funds. He also has no easy target to steal funds and equipment from, even just for fun.

For more disadvantages, he's in a different country, with different laws and a whole different culture. He would be climbing on board a fucking plane to Gotham, if it existed in this world, for some familiar ground.

He really is the unluckiest Robin. It also means he is also the most prepared Robin.

---

The first six months after waking up in this mockery world of heroics were the absolute worst.

He started at one foot in the grave and crawled out of it before the casket could really eat him alive. Jason had experience in casket busting. He didn't wanna repeat it.

He still didn't know who he was -in who was he inhabiting- but it wasn't like Jason had a lot to go on. 'His' quirk was thermo-manipulation, most obviously in the blue fire he could call to his hands but he could do some ice too; it was thanks to Duke's light and shadow manipulation that he had even tried for the duality. He had white hair. Presumably Japanese heritage but quirks had really erased or blurred a lot of racial lines. Also presumed dead and young.

Access to the Quirk Registry took some doing, but again, not everyone followed basic computer security, much less what it took to keep someone bat-trained out of their systems. Again, for nearly two centuries in the future, a lot of the technological development had stagnated. Searching through the Quirk Registry hadn't yielded any result but none of his other methods had struck anything either. And he had looked at the recently dead and/or presumed dead. Sure, he had some leads that looked viable, but he wasn't going to follow those up yet.

He had fixed a few of his most pressing issues the past six months. His ignorance of the local area, the local and national politics and so on. This world supported and had an entire industry catering to making child soldiers and sell their image and reputation to make money and more child soldiers that called themselves Heroes.

His weak ass body no long cried doing daily tasks and only hated him after working out. Yes, Jason was pushing it but he was well aware of how months of preparation could mean shit in the face of seconds.

His infection risk was severely reduced after quick research bender let him make the most generic knock-off brand of the skin restoration goop in a shitty homemade lab. Did it fix his skin being patchwork fucked in places? Some. He wasn't going to get feeling back properly, but at least he looked more normal. Maybe with enough moisturizing he might look a little less Frankenstien's monster.

He also had a cash inflow. It wasn't great, but it supported his apartment. And the second set of papers. And the 2nd apartment.

Which meant in grand old tradition for Jason, time for him to bounce to the next apartment and come up with a new name.

#time for Izzy to slep #Izzy does fic #jason todd #dabi

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gojo-enthusiast · 5 months

Text

Sunday Kind of Love

Series — My Husband Toji Zenin

It had been 4 months since Toji and you’s big fight, you both made it to couples therapy every week, on time and intently invested. “You both have grown a lot in just a short time, they way you both sit right next to each other now, rather than far apart like it was in the beginning.” Your therapist exclaimed, smiling. “Thank you, we are working hard to maintain open communication and getting to know one another, but also growing from the past.” You smiled, holding your husbands hand. “That is great to hear. How do you feel Toji?” She asks, “I feel closer to my wife.” He says, he was simple, to the point. “Good! You should be! Now, question for you guys, how is your sex life with one another? Are we maintaining a consistent and mutually consensual sex life?” She questions. “Oh.” You had blurted, not expecting her to ask such a lewd question. “You don’t have to answer. Just make sure to think about that. Alright guys, we are done for the day. I will see you two next week, same time and day?” She said ending the hour long session.

The drive back home was more silent, you both hadn’t thought about sex, well… You hadn’t, Toji thought about sex with you every moment of the day, most of the times, he was fisting his cock in the shower, trying to blow off the sexual frustration.

“Should we talk about the elephant in the room?” You nervously say. “That isn’t nice to call your husband fat.” Toji jokes. “Toji.” You giggle, feeling your muscles loosen. “We haven’t had sex in 8 months.” Toji states plainly. “Yeah, it has been a while hasn’t it?” You question. “Yeah.” He says back. He began to feel his cock start to harden, just the mere thought of his wife naked in front of him, had him already aching. “I guess we should just ease into it.” You quietly say. “Yeah.” He huffs out lightly.

4 days go bye, and Toji got stuck with overtime, making you feel insecure, you knew he was working but a little thought in the back of your head told you, he was fucking some other woman, since you hadn’t had sex with him. It was 8pm and you called your husband, “Toji?” You say through the phone. “Yes dear?” He questions. “When are you going to be home?” You question, “I am finishing up this last email, then I will be on my way. You hungry?” Toji questions. All of a sudden you burst into tears, “Y/n, what’s wrong?” He frantically asked, “I-I don’t want y-you to have s-s-sex with someone else, I only want you to have sex with m-me!” You cry. “Baby doll, what are you talking about? I’m not having sex with anyone, only you.” He soothingly says. “I will be home in an hour, okay?” He says, “O-Okay.” You calm down. “I love you y/n” He says, “I love you too Toji.” You whimper a little.

And there was your husband, an hour later. He came home, and saw his darling wife, laid on the couch asleep. He picked you up, taking you to your shared bedroom, lying you down. Crawling in beside you, pulling you into his embrace. “I love you.” He says, kissing the crown of your head.

You woke up the next morning, earlier than usual. The sun wasn’t out yet, still darkness, with a tiny bit of light. The black out curtains, not closed all the way. You look at the clock, seeing 6AM. You feel a heat coming from beside you, and it’s your husband, sound asleep. You leaned in, looking at him, smelling a scent of soap. “He must have showered when he got home.” You smile faintly. You stared at his face in admiration, it was Sunday, which meant he didn’t have work, and you two could be in bed all day. Yours eyes drifted down to his manhood area, you saw a little bit of a bulge, feeling testy, wanting to see a little more, you lifted the blankets, looking closer. His manhood erect, hard. “Mmm?” Toji groaned in his sleep. Your womanhood begin to feel heat, your breast perking at the sight of your shirtless husband. You softly placed your hand on his manhood, lightly stroking him over his sweats, kissing the side of his neck.

“Mmm, baby?” He groans, his eyes fluttering open. You felt yourself grow embarrassed, wondering what brought you to the conclusion that touching your sleeping husband was okay. “Why’d you stop?” He groaned, feeling his cock throb. “I-I” You stutter, your cheeks red. “Why you nervous?” He says sitting up. You sat there not saying a word, you were innocent, you were not used to doing these things, especially since the last time you two had sex, was almost a year ago. “You can touch me.” He says, kissing you on your lips. “Can I?” You question. “Yeah.” He responds back. “C-can you take your pants off, please?” You ask sweetly, making your husbands heart mush, he loved how innocent his little wife is. “I want to make you feel good Toji.” You said. “Then do so.” He cockily said, leaning back with his arms behind his head after he stripped out of his pants and boxers.

“You’re really big.” You said quietly, you knew your husband was big, but you forgot how big. “Scared?” He smirked. “No!” You huffed. You spit on the tip of his cock, stroking him slowly, it was early in the morning, you both were still waking up, so you tried to keep your movements slow and graceful. “Fuck.” You hear your husband groan. “Faster, please.” He adds. You quick up your pace, Toji’s cock already twitching. “Fuck— I’m about to cum.” He huffs out. Toji wasn’t one to cum fast, but it was early morning, and he also hadn’t felt the touch of his wife in months. His body was so sensitive to everything you did, he was obsessed. After a few strokes later, he spilled all over your hand, and you continued jerking until he grabbed onto your hand to get you to stop. “N-no more.” He huffed, “did it feel good?” You ask, “did that feel good? Yes. That felt fucking amazing.” He said catching his breath. Still grabbing onto your hand that was wrapped around his cock. He finally let go, and you brought your hand to your mouth, looking at him, he looked at you. You stuck your tongue out, licking his cum that had coated part of your hand. “Oh fuck.” He groaned, his cock springing right back up. “You just fucked up.” He growled, flipping you over to lay on your back. He had your cunt in his mouth in a matter of seconds. Licking you all over, stuffing his tongue into your tight hole. “Taste so fucking good.” He says, your moans filling up the room, you were melting, your essence coating his chin and mouth. He began to suck on your clit, while his middle finger slowly started stroking inside of you, Toji slowly stretching you out. “Ah— Toji!” You moan loudly, your cunt making so much noise. “Shhh baby— she’s talking to me.” He says almost in a hush. You moans at his words, but shutting your mouth. “Delicious little pussy.” He says into your cunt. Fucking his tongue into you, while his fingers did most of the work. “Toji, please put it in.” you moan out, your back arched. “Not yet, your to tight baby.” He said into your cunt. “Please- ahh! Toji— fuck.” You are moaning, coming undone on his face. “I’m cumming, fuck!” You groan out. The little knot in your stomach finally snapping, finally finishing, while your husband is licking up everything coming out. “Fuck!” He says, “taste so fucking good.” He groans into you. You tug at his hair, wanting him to come up to you. He comes up, planting a kiss on your lips. “Come inside me.” You whisper into his ear.

“Fuckkk—“ he groans, as he strokes his cock, and aligns it to your cunt. Slowly pushing in, he stretches you out slowly. Making sure you are comfortable. “You alright?” He huffs out. “Y-yeah. So-so big.” You moan out. “Fuck!” He groans loudly, pushing more of himself into you. He began rocking his hips after pushing himself all the way inside of you. He would go fast, then slow down, and he would repeat that method, making you wrap your arms around his neck and would scratch all over his back. He didn’t know it yet, but his back began bleeding from your nails. Which would make him fuck you again when he sees it.

“Fuck yes” he groaned, going quicker, feeling your gummy walls tighten all around him. “Let me make you a momma.” He moaned into your ear, moaning was not something Toji did. Which meant he was vulnerable with you. “Ah Toji.” You moan back, tightening around him. “Make me a mommy.” You moaned as he quickened his pace. Despite his quickness, he was gentle, he was quick, not hard. He gentle caressed your sides, as you shredded his back with your nails. Toji’s stokes began to get sloppy, and a few minutes later, he was fucking his cum deep into you.

He picked you up, pulling out for just a moment, lifting you in front of the mirror, so you could see your cunt. And he thrusted back into you, “watch me fuck my seed into you.” He groaned into your ear. He was so fucked out of his brain, all he wanted to do was fill your mind and body up with only him. “Look!” He groaned loudly, you moaned at the sight of your cunt swallowing his cock. “So pretty. So good for me.” He kissed your temple, fucking you out of your mind. “You see that doll, I’m so nice.” He said with a smirk, sweat sliding down his face. “I’m so good to my baby, I’m even letting you watch me fuck you. You like watching daddy fuck you?” He teased. “YES YES YES YES TOJI, YES PLEASE KEEP FUCKING ME!” You screamed, you body convulsing. He had you held up with one hand while the other arm snaked around was rubbing your clit. “TOJI FUCK!” You screamed, crying out. A couple of flicks later of your clit, you squirted all over the mirror, and your husband continued to fuck into you, until he dumped a second load into you. Fucking his cum into you once again. “Look at that baby, look how we’re joined together. Together forever.” He said into your ear. You looked down at your cunt, see your cum and his coming together, coating his cock, and filling up your cunt. “So beautiful.” He groaned even more. Fucking you again and again. You both kept at it like two animals in heat, until the afternoon sun was blazing. You both were lying on the floor with a pillow and blanket, as you rode his cock. Spasming all over, and he filling you up again. At this point he finally just started shooting blanks. He was empty and you were exhausted. You fell on top of him, and passed out. He caressed your back, “All mine.” He whispered into your ear. Drifting off to sleep along time with you.

#anime fanfic #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro smut #toji smut #dilf toji #fanfiction #toji fushigro x reader #toji x reader #toji x y/n #toji x you

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fumifooms · 9 months

Text

Laimar crumbs

I wanted to compile all my laimar/marios crumbs to be able to look back at them whenever~ These are CRUMBS and I’m not arguing that all these moments were intended romantically, I have my shipping goggles on and picking every moment I think is meaningful and shippy for these two. I'm probably gonna have to split this in parts because it's gonna get long. Part 2 link

Content warning: spoilers for ALL of the Dungeon Meshi manga! Also blood & corpses in passing

They are so repressed aghhhh. I could go on forever about how Marcille is special to Laios because she was Falin’s first friend and was the only one to follow him into the dungeon for Falin and not the job, how from the get go they were linked by something more than work and that made him feel more comfortable with her. But my Laimar thesis is essentially: they are so sickeningly-sweet domestic and complementary. Their charm lies in their old couple "we’ll argue over what to have for dinner" familiarity with each other, having 0 filter. And also they’re funny together.

They’re so domestic… The way she touches him so fondly and easily and she helps him out of his armor 😭💕 How used is she to disrobing Laios that it's such a no-brainer action for her?

Which, touching is something she does easily without being embarrassed or deeper meaning, which is mostly due to the nature of being a healer beside her affectionate touchy-feely personality (that we can especially see when she interacts with Falin or Chilchuck), but that isn’t true at all for Laios, who we see is very awkward when it comes to touching someone.

Isn’t it so very interesting how Marcille being happy and not lonely aka her wish being fulfilled is the thing that makes Laios react here? The last thing he offers before Winged Lion goes like “it seems you’ve made up your mind~” in the next page.

I've already pointed out Marcille's smile being a special thing to Laios here but it bears being posted here again.

Laios has a "I want to learn more about Marcille face" that he does with no one else just saying.

Laios is always the one she instinctively clings to.

Imagine intimately knowing someone’s worst fear and having comforted them in a moment of pure naked weakness and that instance having had such a profound impact that it subconsciously affects them and their decision making. Laios truly was Marcille’s therapy dog. Pet the dog and fears will fly out

I am SCREAMING why is Marcille the one sitting right next to Laios?? His sister just got revived and Marcille is STILL sitting closer? She’s so right hand man coded they are so partners. I’m just saying having her sit right next to him at his right all the time is so <33 For a series like Dungeon Meshi all about eating metaphors and the importance of sharing a meal? To share that meal with her at his closest?? While Chilchuck and the rest of the party have their own lives in Laios' ideal world conjured up by the Winged Lion, besides Falin Marcille is the one shown to work in close quarters with him <3 It's his ideal world and he wants her to be there to support and help him daily, help... I’m planning to make a post on just that but for now:

They’ve been hinted to be complementary on a planning level so many times. Imagine the country they’ll make together fr!

Them both wanting to stay in the dungeon kingdom, looking like king and queen <3

Not Laios baiting Marcille with him finding her cute omfg.

Laios is the one who wordlessly takes charge of caring for sick Marcille and feeding her.

I could put the whole 96 bit of Laios being all sheepish asking Marcille to stay with him, going up to elfic authorities and telling them "Mine." with Marcille under his cape as his FIRST show of kingly authority (which could represent how Marcille is a good catalyst/motivation for Laios growing more comfortable in his shoes & role and being willing to truly chase something, instead of wandering and hiding his true self. She gives him courage). Honestly the first time I read it I was almost expecting him to propose when he dragged her into the forest holy shit. He's so cute and uncomfortable with showing affection or interest help, Marcille meanwhile the gossip romantic soul of the party being totally oblivious. More on this scene in part 2!!!!!

I ALSO could rant AGAIN about the whole Marcille is Laios’ succubus aka "most alluring form" thing but that’s a complex issue and I go in depth into it in this post

In conclusion they're soulmates both platonic and romantic no one can change my mind. They are so similar. They are so opposite. Laios flees from intimacy and she chases it. They are insecure. They kick ass. They unquestionably love each other, wether it be platonic or otherwise. They get on each other's case. They value each other's input and skills.

#dungeon meshi #laimar #marios #shipping crumbs #masterpost #fumi rambles #i do be a laimar truther but i got nothing but respect for any other shipper ofc. hi farcilles i love u guys don't kill me #some of these points i might repost separatedly bc some people highly prefer short posts. Gotta spread laimar propaganda

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nunalastor · 2 months

Note

I think there's something in Serial Roommates that we've been forgetting, so here's a lingering thought:

Guy has wanted to talk to Alastor about his mother for a long time, he even came up with it as a method to make heaven look (ironically) more inviting. But Guy knows that it would be a dirty manipulation tactic, and even if it was something he thought about doing, he knows that Alastor would see it as manipulation and walk away, he would lose his trust, so he decides not to mention it.

Until one day, when they are alone and after having had a couple of drinks, Alastor simply decides to ask, and Guy's face lights up for a second and he starts talking about Alastor's mother, how she is well and they live close to each other and how they sometimes meet for lunch, how she is still the best cook he has ever met.

And Alastor can see how Guy decided to let that topic slide until now, and he's grateful for it, because he knows that if Guy had brought it up first then he would have done something more drastic than just trying to shoo him away like in those early days.

And more Alastor hears about his mother, more genuine his smile becomes, and for a brief moment, just a moment, he thinks that going to heaven wouldn't be so terrible, but he knows he is where he belongs, and his mother is where she belongs too.

After that conversation Guy returns to heaven, and on his next visit to hell he reveals that "as part of his therapy" Heaven authorized him to take sinners (whether they are guests or hotel workers) who met certain conditions of good conduct on a brief visit to see their loved ones in heaven. It will be in a safe and private space.

Angel cries at the thought of seeing his sister and decides not to ruin it. Guy tells Charlie that this includes her because someone in heaven wants to thank her (Sir Pentius). It also includes Vaggie because she surely left friends behind. Husk and Niffty have some ideas of who they might meet who is in heaven. And Alastor has never been this close to hugging someone, but he has his reservations, he knows why Guy surely had this idea and convinced heaven to accept it, but he doesn't want to stop being who he is...even though he wants to see his mother so much...maybe just once?

Lucifer just clenches his fists and doesn't say a word, but his gaze moves from Alastor to Charlie to Guy constantly. He is so close to burning something...someone.

👀

#serial roommates #hazbin hotel #nunalastor asks

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hemipenal-system · 8 months

Text

this thread is fucking long and the cut is in an awkward place just bear with it please

so werewolves are a stock horror villain (and the posts directly below this one are about that! go look at them) and don’t get me wrong i love werewolf horrorsmut but i want to see more of:

werewolves who just aren’t scary in any way. like sure the shift may be scary. they may look kinda scary. but they’re just people like everyone else even if they are more ruled by instinct than the average human. i think stuff like that is a nice way to explore what it means to be a person and how humanity can be a fluid category, especially when the werewolves in question are transgender/disabled/personality disorder coded.

like i want some wholesome shit about werewolves who can’t even pass as ambiguously human. they’re just very overtly werewolves: massive sharp, snarling bundles of taut muscles and sinew, 8, 9 feet tall, who are very capable of snapping and killing everything around them

but don’t. because they’re treated well and loved even though they’re not like everyone else. and it doesn’t matter that they aren’t, because they are like everyone else even if they’re not. i know that sounds a bit confusing on the face but i mean stuff like:

- “oh yeah no worries, Sharon from accounting’s a wolf too! no no we love her! remember when we went to topgolf for that company outing? they couldn’t find any clubs in her size so she outdrove us all with clubs a foot too short it was hysterical!”

- “all right you should be scheduled for this week! next two weeks are the same? no right of course not because you need moon days. yeah that’s totally fine i will get that in to HR and you should be all good!”

- “is- no it’s fine- is it ok if i stay shifted in here? the pain is less bad when i’m shifted. no i have no idea why lol. you’re sure? the shedding is ok and everything? aww sweetie i love you too!”

- “i mean, hip dysplasia is normal in wolves your age, and you had fairly active teenage years, so it happens. it’s not anything to worry about though, i’ll get you in contact with a fantastic physical therapist! no she specializes in wolf patients. she’s great at what she does, i promise. i’ll get you a month of painkillers but over-the-counter should work alright too. take these, go to therapy, and if it’s still doing that in a month come back and we can try something else.”

- “hey, baby, look at me. i know people are staring at you. you don’t need to care about them. you have just as much right to be here as they do. just ignore them.”

- “no i’m absolutely not mad at you! you can’t control that happening! no it was a full moon what the fuck were you supposed to do? look, i can replace the couch you mauled and the TV and vases you broke but i can’t replace you getting hurt because you tried to stave off the shift. we’ll go shopping for new ones together, ok? and we’ll get some cheap shit you can break for next month and a couple steaks for you to fuck up. i promise i’m not mad- hey get off me you big lug stop fucking licking me your mouth tastes like couch cushions…”

- “it’s actually so real to be worried about hurting your human partner in bed. you won’t hurt her, dude, i’ve known her for years you should be more scared of her than she is of you. they make, like, these rings. it’s like a silicone spacer- no it goes on your dick, idiot. it’s so you don’t like fuck into her cervix or whatever. supposedly those help? idk if they come in wolf sizes though.”

show me the negative stuff, too. show me:

- werewolves who muzzle themselves in cities even though it’s only a first quarter moon because they’re scared they’ll snap and hurt someone even though that fear makes them so careful around everyone they never would

- wolves who have moon trackers on their phone because they need to know when they’re going to get forced into a shift so they can get away from everyone because they don’t want to get violent but they can’t control it and the last time they were around someone she ended up in the hospital. she’s really understanding about it and they’re friends now but it doesn’t make it feel any less horrible

- wolves who get asked every single fucking time they get nice dinner, “so do you want your steak cooked, or what?” by waiters who think they’re funny but really aren’t

- werewolves who walk on eggshells in public because they know if they make any minor mistake or show any aggression whatsoever the pundits on the news will talk about “a werewolf snarled at my kid today. i mean i try to be trusting but you never know with those people. they have those fangs for a reason is all i’m saying.”

- werewolves who are scared to shift in public for the same reason as above, because they know how they’ll be perceived if they show people they’re a wolf

- werewolves who can’t find wolf doctors in their area so they keep going back to human doctors who don’t know how the fuck to treat their unique health conditions and when they complain about this they get a flippant “have you tried a veterinarian?”

- werewolves in therapy because their last relationship was with a human who sucked and it was really bad and that trauma has manifested as resource guarding and reactivity issues and it’s causing problems at work

i love this stuff. i want more. i also cannot write conclusion paragraphs to save my life so this is the end now. thanks for reading all this if you’re reading this.

😊

#not terato #really #speculative fiction #disability #transgender #personality disorder #worldbuilding #werewolf #long fucking thread #terato blog #monster biology post #sort of

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margarethx · 4 months

Text

There is a strange man standing at Sam's door.

Pale, with long hair and beginnings of a thin beard; his eyes covered by a baseball cap, but glinting in the shadows in a way that suggests he's sober, or at least alert.

He stands in an ostensibly relaxed pose.

He still looks like he's one abrupt sound away from bolting.

He knocked on the door instead of ringing the bell, as if he knew Sam was home and close enough to hear the noise muffled slightly by the glove covering his hand.

There's no one around at this hour and the entrance to Sam's house is obscured from the street by a few bushes and trashcans pulled out for the garbage men to collect in the morning. If someone broke inside, no one would be able to tell if they weren't already looking directly into Sam's small garden. Which, likely, no one does.

Sam also doesn't have any friends who visit him at home and both sides of his close family live a few states away. He tries his best to keep in touch with them, but if he disappeared from the radar for a couple of days, maybe even weeks, no one would be alarmed. So... if the stranger at his door harms him, it'll take a long time for anyone to notice. Maybe a couple of people at the VA will have some questions after the weekend, but his schedule is not regular enough for anyone to think something's off when he's not there the next Monday.

With all that in mind, Sam pushes away from the peephole he's been peering through for the last minute to unlock the door.

The man outside looks a bit lost. In need of assistance. And Sam's spent way too many years risking his life to save others to back down now, just because he's what... scared? Sam's not scared. He fought with literal helicopters and won such duel multiple times. A strange man with no fashion sense visiting his home is nothing compared to that.

The guy's probably homeless, simply trying his luck in a safer neighbourhood. It's better if Sam's the one to open his door instead of some weirdo down the street, who'll chase him away with a gun.

Sam is, technically speaking, a weirdo with a gun tucked into the waistline of his sweatpants, though he's not planning on using it. And if he'll have to, he won't be excited about that. Which is a key difference in his eyes.

Sam's a couple of years removed from the initial fear and PTSD fuelled paranoia that haunted him after leaving the Air Force. He did the work. Went through therapy. Read the books. Pushed himself to go out there; to mingle with people without succumbing to the need to crawl under the nearest table at the first louder noise.

He's not removed enough, however, to answer the door completely unarmed. Which is how he ends up here. With a gun concealed on his back, opening his home for a random man, whose intentions might range from simply asking Sam for something like directions to the nearby cemetery, to making sure Sam's the one who ends up there within the next week.

The hinges screech a little as he pushes the door, which is by design. Because of the lingering paranoia of course, not because he forgot to buy a new can of WD-40 for a fifth month in a row.

The man at his porch looks up, as if alarmed by the noise. He seems surprised that Sam answered, but he smiles pleasantly right away. If Sam was listening to his aforementioned paranoia, he'd say that the smile was too quick, almost too pleasant, and too calculated to seem genuine. But he really tries to get better and not assume the worst these days.

"Hello? How can I help you?", he asks, trying to match the energy and sound just kind enough for the ghost of his mother to not appear with her disapproving face in his next dream.

The man hesitates a little, giving Sam a second to take a proper look at him.

What's most striking about him is the bulky built. Broad shoulders and strong legs, paired with a - probably - flat stomach. It's difficult to see with all the layers of clothing the guy's wearing, but overall, he seems like a naturally muscular person hidden under an ill-fitting jacket and too-baggy jeans.

There's some underlying stiffness to his pose - something that Sam's already noticed at first glance, but which is all the more evident now that he can see the full silhouette of the man

If Sam had more time to assess his guest, he's probably dwell on the fact that his face looks disturbingly familiar. Or on the fact that said face, along with the rest of the body, is very much Sam's type. But he does not have that time, so he cuts this line of thinking as quickly as it forms in his brain.

"I've...," answers the man, finally. "I know it'll sound weird, but I..." He pauses once more, looking down at his palms, as if he's a student trying to cheat by reading the answers of the inside of his hand. "A guy I met recently goes to the VA. The one you work at," the man clarifies unnecessarily. "And I've heard that you've helped a couple of his friends before, so I thought that... well."

He stops talking, losing steam by the end. Speaking seems to be taking a toll on him and he stops even looking at Sam by the end of his vague explanation.

It's enough, however, to calm Sam's nerves. He unclenches his jaw and all the other muscles his body readied for a fight that never came and the immediate relief almost startles an embarrassing moan out of him. He didn't even realize how tense he was. He hopes that the guy didn't notice too.

"It's okay, man. I get it," he replies with a smile.

And he does get it. He's been there. He knows how it feels to finally take a step in the new direction. To try staying neutral or cynical because of misplaced self-preservation instincts, but feeling the hope already filling your chest anyway.

The man lifts his head and shoots a shy smile Sam's way.

"I hoped you would," he says. "My friend said a couple of his old buddies from the army been to your groups and it helped. So I... I wanted to check for myself.

Sam's smile becomes much more genuine.

"Glad to hear that," he replies honestly. It's always good to know that his efforts actually affect the people who struggle the same way that he did. He's curious which vets his guest is referring to, but he stops himself from asking. It's not relevant right now. "And you'd like to join one of my groups too?"

The answering nod is a little unsure, but Sam can work with that.

"I'll give you some pamphlets and the schedule for my next three meetings," he offers, trying to remember where he put the pile of fliers from the VA which littered his coffee table for a few months at one point.

Before he has the time to fully move from the doorstep he's stopped by a strong and sudden grip on his wrist. Very strong. Almost crushing.

The alarm bells in his head blare, his vision narrowing, while his other hand makes a move to his back where a gun is still hidden in his sweatpants.

But then the pressure is gone from Sam's arm and the man is looking right at him, confused, then mortified. Whether he's scared of his own reaction or the gun he must sense in the vicinity, Sam cannot tell.

"I'm so, so sorry! I don't know why I did that, just... Let me..."

He stops. Sam blinks at him.

There're good ten seconds of uncomfortable silence before any of them speaks again.

"It's fine," Sam says, carefully. He wets his lips and the man's eyes track the movement. "Like I said... I get it." He tries to laugh, but it comes out a little strangled. "I don't like sudden movements too."

The guy at the door almost shrinks, his shoulders going up, as if he's trying to cover his face even more. But he seems relieved. Like it's easy to just have someone who understands, when the explanation seems too embarrassing to voice.

"Yeah..."

Sam takes a deep breath, hoping to push through the awkward moment and put the man at ease.

"Like I said, I'll go to take a pamphlet and write down my schedule for you," he says, taking a slow step inside. "I'll be back in a minute." Without waiting for a response he nods as if to silently ask the guy to stay where he is. Then looks for a pen and the fliers almost on autopilot, hoping that his porch won't be empty when he's back.

Or maybe hoping it already is.

When he steps through the door again, the man is still there. Just as shifty as before. As Sam hands him the papers, he opens his mouth, starting another apology, but Sam shushes him right away.

"It's alright. Don't worry about it." He adds a smile for reassurance. "My schedule is right here. If you can't come this month, you can always go in anyway. Ask around and find my office. We'll figure something out."

With a silent "thanks" the man starts to slowly back away from his doorstep. It seems as if he wants to stay, though. To ask for something more, but doesn't know what to say or maybe how to say it. Finally, with a small wave, he exits Sam's lawn. And then he's gone.

It takes Sam another five minutes of contemplative staring at the street to remember that his home address is not public information and neither of his former vets should know where he lives. None of them would know where to look for him outside of the VA.

Before he has the time to have a panic attack about that he finally registers the pain in his arm. He frowns and pulls up his sleeve where a set of dark, angry looking bruises form a shape of a closed palm on his skin.

He locks the door as calmly as possible, using an extra lock he hasn't taken out of the drawer since last year. He pulls the curtains over the windows, grabs his phone, and spends the rest of the day sitting on the floor with a gun between his legs, within reach.

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

Well... I don't even know what this story is xD I just sat down and wrote the first thing that came to my mind. Now I somehow ended up with a plot outline for at least 4-5 chapters. Maybe I'll even write them one day <3

Hope you enjoyed witnessing the birth of my WiP number 2309745.

[PART 2 on tumblr is here]

[Ao3 LINK is here]

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #the falcon #captain america #winter soldier #ca:tws #mcu #marvel #winterfalcon #sam x bucky #onlysambucky #samuel thomas wilson #james bucky barnes #ATWK #assassinate them with kindness

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