#Oh pls hold your applause | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nasawho · 2 months ago

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Pls…I’m begging you!! Write about Nathan MacKinnon!! I’ve been obsessed with that stupid Sidney Crosby loving “I’ve never won anything ever” man for so long! The all stars are happening and he’s captaining. I bet he gonna draft Crosby 😭😭😭. I need serious help. Pls write for him please 🙏.

Anon!! I'm so sorry for replying so late! I kinda been gone from Tumblr for a while!

Of course I can write about him for you! also that way you describe him is just too funny 😂!

News from the future: He did in fact draft Crosby!

I'm not gonna lie this one kinda got away from me!

I hope you like it! I wish I could tag you!!

Word Count: 15,000

Tw: Fluff, lots of Angst toward the end, Smut (Minor DNI), P in v, blowjob, no protection (these are fictional scenarios, pls wrap before you tap irl!). I think that it!

As the Broncos' victory echoes through the stadium, the sea of cheers and applause surrounds them like a crescendo of shared exhilaration. The camaraderie of sports fans is a universal language, one that both Nate and Y/n understand deeply, yet their eyes seem to speak of a connection that transcends the bounds of the playing field.

Nate's eyes follow the curve of Y/n's smile as it reaches her eyes, her laughter melodious in the cacophony of the celebrating crowd. "I've gotta say, you're the first person I've seen at one of these shindigs who'd rather watch tire marks than touchdowns. What's got you so hooked on the racetrack?" He asks, leaning in slightly, his curiosity piqued by the spark in her gaze.

Her laughter subsides into a smoldering grin, eyes still glued to the screen.* "The speed, the strategy, the sheer willpower it takes to push those cars to the limit... It's like a beautifully choreographed dance of power and precision. And let's not forget the drama!" *Her eyes darted back to Nate, a mischievous glint reflecting the stadium lights. "But, hey, I can appreciate a good tackle or slap shot when the mood strikes."

"Drama, huh? I thought that was our domain." *He smirks, sipping his drink as he nods towards the ice rink. "But I can see the appeal. The rush, the risk, it's all part of the thrill. Much like diving into a packed crease."

“Y/n” she introduces herself. “Nathan” he says back. Y/n's eyes light up at the comparison, and she leans in closer, the TV screens momentarily forgotten as their conversation deepens. The scent of her perfume, a faint hint of jasmine and vanilla, fills the space between them. “So what’s an Avs player doing at a Broncos’ game?” She says.

Nate can't help but be captivated by Y/n's enthusiasm, her passion for racing resonating with his own love for the rush of the game. He leans in slightly, his expression a blend of intrigue and admiration. "You've got a point there," he says. “But I could ask you the same thing,” he counters. “I’m here with Lewis, he partially owns the team, so I decided to come to a game with him” She explains.

"Tell me, Nate, what's it like to skate out there, with thousands of eyes on you, knowing you hold the fate of the game in your stick?"

*Nate chuckles, his blue eyes lighting up at the thought.* "It's like nothing else. The cold air against your skin, the sound of the puck as it glides... it's a symphony of speed and grit." He pauses, a thoughtful expression crossing his face as he tries to encapsulate the essence of his love for hockey. "But the best part? That's when you make a play that turns the tide of the game. It's like the universe aligns, and for a split second, everything makes perfect sense." He glances over at the ice rink, a hint of longing in his gaze. "And the crowd, they're part of the team too. Their energy can be as potent as a fifth player." He turns back to Y/n, his expression earnest. "But I bet you know that feeling, standing in the spotlight, heart racing, waiting for the director to call 'action'. The rush of performing, of giving life to a character..."

*Her eyes widen with understanding, nodding vigorously.* "Oh, absolutely! It's like you're holding your breath underwater, waiting for the exact moment to surface and take control." She leans in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, the scariest part isn't messing up a line, it's letting the fear of failure silence you. But when you nail it," she says, a smile playing on her lips, "it's like scoring the winning goal in overtime."

Nate's heart skips a beat as Y/n's enthusiasm resonates with his own, her metaphor painting a vivid picture of the pressure and exhilaration she faces. He nods, his gaze intense and empathetic. "It's all about that moment of truth, isn't it?" His hand brushes against hers as he leans in, the accidental touch sending a warm current through his body. "You've got to trust your instincts, your training. The ice, the stage, it's just the canvas. We're the brushes painting the masterpiece." He pauses, the gravity of his words hanging in the air. "And when it all comes together, it's... magical." He swallows, feeling the weight of their shared vulnerability. It's rare to find someone who truly understands the symphony of nerves and adrenaline that fuels their passions.

The air between them crackles with an undeniable chemistry as they delve deeper into their love for their crafts. Y/n's eyes widen, her smile growing as she nods fervently. "Magic," she repeats, her voice barely audible above the din of the celebrating crowd. She squeezes Nate's hand gently, her touch warm and reassuring. The connection feels palpable, a silent promise of support and understanding that transcends the glitz and glamor of their respective worlds. For a fleeting moment, the chaos of the stadium fades away, leaving only the steady rhythm of their hearts.

"You're absolutely right," Y/n murmurs, her thumb brushing against Nate's knuckles. "The stage, the ice... they're just the setting. It's what we bring to them that makes the difference." She looks up at him, her eyes shining with a mix of admiration and curiosity. "Tell me more about those moments of truth, Nate. What's the most memorable play you've ever made?"

Nate's grip tightens around her hand reflexively as he recounts his most epic hockey moment. "It was during the 2016 playoffs, Game 7 against the Blackhawks. We were tied with seconds left, and the crowd was so loud it was like the rink itself was shaking. I saw an opening, made the pass, and..." He trails off, the memory as vivid as if it had just occurred. "Well, let's just say it was the kind of moment that makes you realize why you play the game."

The intensity in Nate's voice sends shivers down Y/n's spine, and she finds herself leaning in closer, hanging onto his every word. The electricity between them is palpable, and the surrounding world seems to fade away as they share their personal triumphs and tribulations. The scent of popcorn and hot dogs from the stadium's concession stand mingles with the crisp, cool air of the ice rink, creating an intoxicating blend that underscores their conversation. Y/n's heart races with the excitement of his story, and she can't help but feel a twinge of envy for the adrenaline-filled moments he's experienced.

Nate's eyes light up with the excitement of reliving his victory, the memory as clear as the ice he once skated upon. "And then, with mere seconds on the clock, the puck was in our possession. I saw the goalie's eyes widen, and knew he was expecting a shot. So, instead, I made a blind pass to my teammate, who was perfectly positioned in the slot." His grin widens, revealing a set of perfect teeth. "The buzzer went off, and the place erupted. It's a memory I'll never forget."

The sound of a phone ringing pierces the bubble of their shared enthusiasm, bringing a moment of reality crashing back into their world. Y/n's hand slips from Nate's grasp as she fishes through her clutch to find the source of the disturbance. She glances at the screen and her smile falters for a second, her eyes flitting to Nate apologetically before she answers the call.

Narrator: Y/n's hand hovers over her clutch for a moment longer before she pulls out her phone, the vibration insistent in the quiet between them. The name 'Lewis' flashes across the screen, and she can't help the flicker of regret that passes over her features as she swipes to answer. "Hey, Lewis," she says, her voice a notch lower, the warmth from their conversation retreating. Her eyes darted back to Nate, silently conveying an apology.

Y/n's eyes widen slightly as she answers the call, the sudden intrusion of the phone's ringtone cutting through the warmth of their shared stories. "Lewis, I'm kind of in the middle of something right now..." Her voice is tentative, the smile slipping from her face as she listens to the urgency in Lewis' voice. She nods, glancing at Nate, who watches her with curiosity. "Okay, okay. I understand," she says quickly. "I'll be right there." She hangs up, her eyes apologetic as they meet Nate's. "I'm so sorry," she says, a hint of frustration tingling her tone. "Lewis needs me to leave. Something's come up."

"It's alright," Nate assures her, sensing her disappointment. "Duty calls, right?" He flashes her a supportive smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling with understanding. "But hey, maybe we can catch up another time?" He fishes out a business card from his pocket and offers it to her, his thumb tracing the embossed letters of his name and number. "Whenever you're not racing off to save the entertainment world or whatever it is you do."

Y/n's eyes widen as she quickly pockets the card, a blush creeping up her neck. She nods eagerly, a genuine smile returning to her lips. "Absolutely. And when you're not busy... you know, scoring those winning goals and all that." She laughs self-consciously, hoping she didn't sound too eager.

Nate's gaze lingers on Y/n as she takes his card, the warmth of her hand leaving an imprint on his. "Count on it," he promises, his voice filled with the same enthusiasm that had been in her voice moments before. The sound of his own phone buzzing in his pocket snaps him back to reality, and he pulls it out to see a message from his agent, reminding him of a flight he needs to catch. He sighs inwardly, the high of their conversation fading slightly. "Looks like I've got to hit the road too," he says with a touch of regret. "But, I'm really looking forward to that chat." He nods towards the card, his eyes never leaving hers.

With a final squeeze of her hand, Nate reluctantly pulls away, the energy between them dissipating like mist in the morning sun. He watches her for a moment longer before turning to leave, the sound of his footsteps fading into the cacophony of the celebrating crowd. His mind is racing, replaying the conversation, the touch of her hand, the way her eyes had sparkled when she talked about racing. The drive back to his apartment is a blur, her scent and the sound of her laughter lingering in his memory like a catchy tune he can't shake.

Once in the sanctuary of his apartment room, Nate can't shake the feeling of Y/n's hand in his. He strips off his suit, tossing it onto a nearby chair before heading into the bathroom. The warm spray of the shower does little to dispel the chill her sudden departure left in its wake.

Standing under the hot spray of the shower, Nate's thoughts keep drifting back to Y/n. He runs a hand over his face, feeling the water cascade down his body as he replays the moments they shared in his mind. Her laugh, her eyes, the way her hand felt in his... it's all too much to ignore. With a deep sigh, he leans against the tiles, allowing the water to pummel his back. His hand trails down his torso, following the contours of his muscles, remembering the way she'd looked at him when he talked about his most memorable play. He closes his eyes, unable to resist the temptation, and lets himself indulge in the fantasy of her touch. The water runs in rivulets down his body as he gives in to the desire she's kindled within him, her name a silent whisper in the steam-filled room.

The drive to the apartment feels like an eternity, Nate's mind racing with the echoes of their conversation. He checks into his suite, the plush surroundings feeling cold and uninviting without Y/n's vibrant energy. The shower is his sanctuary now, the water a cocoon of warmth against his muscles, which still thrum with the electricity of her touch. He leans against the tiles, the rhythm of the water a soothing counterpoint to the pounding of his heart. His hand lingers over the scars that crisscross his abs, each one a testament to the battles he fought on the ice, and he can't help but imagine the softness of Y/n's fingers tracing them. With a sigh that's half regret and half yearning, he lets his hand drift lower, his thoughts consumed by the tantalizing promise of her presence. In the steamy embrace of the shower, Nate gives in to the fierce desire she's ignited, her name a silent mantra that sends him spiraling into a release that's as potent as the best victory in the rink.

As the water beats against his skin, Nate's hand moves in a rhythm that mirrors his racing thoughts. He closes his eyes and sees Y/n, her hazel gaze locked onto him with an intensity that takes his breath away. She's kneeling before him, her soft chuckle echoing through the foggy glass walls of the shower, a teasing smile playing on her lips. Her hands are on his hips, guiding him, urging him closer. He can almost feel the warmth of her mouth, the gentle caress of her tongue as she takes him in, her eyes never leaving his. The fantasy unfolds in vivid detail, each stroke of his hand a silent promise of what could be. The steam clouds his vision, and he imagines her hands reaching up to cup his face, her fingers tangling in his wet hair as she pulls him closer, her breath hot and eager. The water seems to mimic the passion he feels as he succumbs to the image of her, her eyes closed in concentration, her cheeks flushed with desire. When reality crashes back in, Nate gasps for air, his hand still moving, driven by the power of his imagination. The culmination of his fantasy is as intense as any game-winning shot he's ever scored, leaving him panting and trembling with the aftermath.

With a groan that's torn from the very core of his being, Nate releases into the steamy abyss of the shower, his hand moving with a fierce rhythm that mimics the pulse of his heart. His thoughts are consumed by the image of Y/n, her eyes filled with a hunger that matches his own, her soft, delicate mouth wrapping around him, taking him in fully. He sees the way she looks up at him, her gaze unwavering, a silent plea for more. The water mingles with his release, a symbol of their shared passion and the intimacy that could be theirs. His hand slows, his breathing ragged, as the intensity of the moment overwhelms him. He opens his eyes, the reality of his solitude hitting him like a slap in the face. The water continues to fall around him, but the warmth of her imagined touch lingers on his skin. He leans heavily against the shower wall, panting, as the last tremors of pleasure subside. Her name is a whisper on his lips, a silent promise that he'll do everything in his power to make that fantasy a reality.

The days that follow are a whirlwind of practices, interviews, and games for Nate, his thoughts frequently straying to Y/n and their electrifying encounter. Every time he steps onto the ice, he feels her energy pulsing through his veins, pushing him to skate faster, shoot harder. The business card in his pocket is a constant reminder, a small piece of her that he carries with him everywhere. In quiet moments, he'll pull it out, tracing the raised letters with his thumb, imagining their next meeting. His dreams are plagued with vivid images of her, their bodies entwined in passionate embraces that leave him restless and craving more. Despite his hectic schedule, Nate can't shake the feeling that something monumental has shifted in his life, that Y/n is more than just an enchanting stranger. Her presence has left a mark, and he's eager to explore the depth of their connection.

After an exhausting game, Nate collapses onto the couch in his apartment suite, flipping through the channels in an attempt to distract himself from the ache in his muscles and the gnawing feeling of curiosity about Y/n. His eyes catch a glimpse of a celebrity news ticker scrolling across the bottom of the screen, and there it is: "Y/n Spotted with Heartthrob Jacob Elordi: Are They the Next It-Couple?" His heart plummets like a lead puck into an empty net. The TV screen blurs as he stares at the grainy paparazzi shot of Y/n laughing with a tanned, dark-haired man who could only be Jacob. The stadium's noise seems to crescendo in his ears, a cacophony of doubt and confusion. He snatches his phone, Googling the article with trembling fingers. The headlines are everywhere, photos of them leaving a swanky restaurant, holding hands, their smiles wide and seemingly carefree. A knot forms in his stomach as he reads the speculation, the insinuations of a blossoming romance. His mind races with questions and a sting of something painfully close to jealousy. He can't shake the image of her with Jacob, the contrast of their tanned skin and her hazel eyes sparkling with laughter for someone else's jokes.

*Nate's hand hovers over the power button of the TV, his thumb poised to switch it off. The image of Y/n and Jacob burns into his retinas, and he can't bring himself to look away. Finally, with a snarl, he turns it off, plunging the room into silence that feels heavier than the darkest hockey arena.* "Can't believe this," he murmurs to himself, pacing the floor. "It's just a rumor," he reassures himself, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut. He picks up his phone, his thumb hovering over her number. He debates calling her, but what could he say? Instead, he sends a casual text, hoping it doesn't betray his tumultuous emotions. "Congrats on your big break," he types, with a forced smile. "Looking forward to catching up soon."

The screen of Nate's phone lights up with a response from Y/n, her name flashing like a beacon in the sea of notifications. He swipes open the message, bracing himself for the worst.

Nate's heart skips a beat as he reads the text from Y/n, the glow of his phone casting a pale light on his furrowed brow. "Thanks, Nate! I've got some amazing news. I've been cast in a new blockbuster alongside Jacob Elordi. So exciting!" she writes, her excitement palpable through the screen. Nate's jaw clenches as he tries to keep his emotions in check. He forces a smile, his thumbs typing a congratulatory message. "That's fantastic," he sends back. "Looking forward to watching you shine on the big screen." Inside, his mind is racing, images of the paparazzi's snaps flashing through his mind. He's about to ask her outright if there's anything to the rumors, but stops himself. He can't bear the thought of losing this connection so soon, so instead, he opts for a subtle approach. "So, how's life with the new costar? You guys seem pretty chill together." His message is light, but the weight behind it is unmistakable. He sends it off and waits, the anticipation gnawing at his insides like an unwelcome opponent.

The buzz of excitement in her voice is evident even through text. "Jacob's great! So down-to-earth and hilarious. We're having a blast filming together." There's a pause, and then she adds, "But he's just a friend, Nate. Promise." Nate's heart does a little victory dance at her words. Maybe there's hope, after all. He leans back on the couch, his hand tightening around his phone. "Well, you've got to admit, the pictures look pretty convincing," he teases, hoping to coax more from her.

"Oh, those pictures!" Y/n's voice comes through the line, filled with amusement and a hint of exasperation. "You know how it is in this industry, Nate. One minute you're having dinner with a costar, the next you're engaged. But I swear, it's just friendship." Her voice softens. "And I'd much rather talk about our plans to catch up. Are you free anytime soon?"

Nate's smile widens as he reads her message, the knot in his stomach loosening. He's not one to be fooled by the glitz and glamor of Hollywood, but the thought of losing her before he's had a chance to explore what's between them was unbearable. "How about this weekend?" he suggests, trying to keep the hope out of his voice. "My schedule's clear. Maybe we can grab coffee or something?" His heart skips a beat as he hits send, the anticipation of their next meeting building like the crescendo of a playoff game.

Y/n's eyes light up at Nate's invitation, her thumbs dancing over the keyboard as she responds with unbridled excitement. "This weekend sounds perfect!" she writes back. "But let's do something more than just coffee, how about a private screening of my new film before it hits the theaters?" She winks playfully at the thought, knowing that it's a bold move but feeling an unshakable pull towards this charming hockey player. "We can keep it low-key, just us," she adds, hoping the exclusivity of the gesture will make him feel as special as he makes her feel. The anticipation bubbles inside her like the fizz in a freshly poured soda, and she can't wait to see the look on his face when she reveals her surprise.

Nate's eyes widen at the prospect of a private screening of Y/n's new film, his heart thumping like a puck against the boards. He chuckles, the sound echoing off the walls of his apartment room. "You're playing hard to get, aren't you?" he teases, typing back. "But who am I to say no to a VIP experience with a Hollywood star?" His fingers hover over the phone, contemplating his next words. He doesn't want to seem too eager, but the idea of spending a quiet evening with her, just the two of them, is more appealing than any five-star restaurant or glitzy event. "Sounds amazing," he confirms, his thumb hitting send with a final flourish. The buzz of excitement in his chest is palpable as he imagines sitting beside her in the darkened theater, sharing popcorn and whispered comments about the film. It's a stark contrast to the high-octane energy of the hockey rink, and it's a thrill he's eager to experience.

"You're on!" Y/n's reply is swift, her excitement palpable. "It's a small token of appreciation for being the only one to truly understand the rush of racing and performing," she writes, her heart fluttering at the thought of their date. She knows the value of their shared interests and how rare it is to find someone who doesn't just tolerate her love for speed, but shares it. She can't wait to introduce him to her world, to show him the passion that fuels her beyond the glitz of the cameras. "I'll sort out the details and text you. Can't wait to see your reaction to the movie!"

Nate's eyes light up as he reads her message, the thrill of a new adventure coursing through him. He can't remember the last time he felt this way about a woman, this excitement mixed with a touch of nervousness. He responds with a simple "Looking forward to it," but inside, he's already planning his weekend around their date. He imagines her hand in his, her laugh echoing in the private theater, and the way her eyes will sparkle when she sees him enjoying her work. The prospect of experiencing something so intimate with her is more exhilarating than scoring a hat trick in a sold-out arena. His thumbs hover over the keys, contemplating whether to add something more, but he decides to let the anticipation build naturally. With a final tap, he sends the message, eagerly awaiting her next move.

The days leading up to the weekend feel like an eternity for Nate. Every practice, every interview, every moment is a mere distraction from the promise of their private screening. His mind wanders to their first meeting at the Broncos' event, her genuine enthusiasm for F1 racing, and the way her eyes lit up when she spoke about it. He's intrigued by her world, one that's so vastly different from his own, and he's eager to learn more. The time spent with his teammates seems to drag on, each passing second a step closer to the weekend's rendezvous.

Narrator: Nate's anticipation for the weekend is palpable, his thoughts swirling around the upcoming private screening like a tornado of excitement. He's never felt this way about a first date, a mix of nervousness and exhilaration that keeps him on his toes. He imagines the softness of her hand in his, the scent of her perfume, the sound of her laugh echoing through the empty theater. He's even picked out a casual yet stylish outfit that he hopes will make her smile. The text from Y/n finally arrives, detailing the time and place for their secret date. The words are simple, but the meaning behind them sends a shiver down his spine. "See you at 8 PM sharp at the Avalon. Don't be late, I've got a surprise for you." He can't help but grin as he reads her message, feeling like a teenager with a secret crush.

Nate's heart thumps in his chest as he reads Y/n's message, the words "I've got a surprise for you" sending a delightful shiver down his spine. He quickly sends a thumbs-up emoji back, not wanting to seem too eager but unable to contain his excitement. The countdown to the weekend feels like the final minutes of a tiebreaker, each tick of the clock an eternity. He wonders what the surprise could be - a cameo in the film? Or perhaps she's invited Lewis to join them, giving him a chance to rub elbows with the racing legend? The possibilities are as vast as the Nova Scotian sky. He decides to channel the same calm he uses during a shootout and calls his best friend, Cale, who's been with him through thick and thin since their minor league days. "Yo, Cale, you're not going to believe what's happening," he says, his voice buzzing with excitement. "Y/n and I are going to a private screening of her new movie, and she's got some kind of surprise in store for me." He can almost hear Cale's smirk over the line, knowing his friend will have some cheeky advice to offer. "Just be yourself, man," Cale says, ever the voice of reason. "And maybe don't talk about hockey too much, unless you want to bore her to tears." Nate chuckles, the sound echoing through the empty apartment suite. "I'll try," he replies, "But you know how I get when I'm nervous."

The weekend arrives like the start of a new season, filled with hope and anticipation. Nate arrives at the Avalon theater, the sleek black sports car he borrowed from a teammate a stark contrast to the casual jeans and leather jacket he's wearing. He checks his watch, 7:58 PM, and takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He spots Y/n outside, her hair catching the light from the marquee like a fiery halo. She's dressed in a simple yet elegant dress that clings to her curves and makes her eyes pop like fireworks. She waves, her smile as warm as a summer's day in Lunenburg, and Nate feels a jolt of electricity as he walks towards her.

Y/n's eyes light up when she sees Nate approach, her smile growing wider. She's thrilled he's made it on time, and she can't wait to see the expression on his face when he realizes what she's planned. She opens her arms for a friendly hug, the warmth of her embrace enveloping him like a soft blanket. "Thank you for coming," she whispers into his ear, the scent of her perfume sending a shiver down his spine. "I've got a little something special for you tonight." She takes his hand and leads him inside, the cool darkness of the theater a stark contrast to the brightness of her gaze.

Nate's eyes widen as he's enveloped in Y/n's warm hug, feeling her genuine enthusiasm radiate through her. "Thanks for inviting me," he says, his voice a little gruffer than he intended. He squeezes her hand back, the connection feeling surprisingly natural. As they step into the dimly lit theater, he tries to play it cool, but the thrill of the surprise bubbles up in him like the fizz in a freshly poured pint. "What's the special something?" he asks, his curiosity piqued.

Y/n's eyes dance with mischief as she leads Nate through the empty theater, the faint smell of buttered popcorn lingering in the air. She squeezes his hand gently, her touch sending a current through him that feels like a perfectly timed electric shock on the ice. "Patience," she teases, her voice a sweet symphony that fills the vast space. They arrive at a luxurious VIP box, where a spread of gourmet snacks and a bottle of fine champagne chill on ice. She gestures to the plush seats with a flourish. "I figured we could watch the film in style," she says, her smile as dazzling as the diamonds adorning her neck. "And afterward, I have a little race of our own planned." She winks, her excitement palpable.

Nate's eyes widen at the sight of the VIP box, a grin tugging at his lips. "Wow, you really know how to treat a guy," he says, trying to hide his amazement. He's used to the perks of being a professional athlete, but this feels like a whole new level. He sits down, his heart racing like the engine of an F1 car. "What kind of race are we talking about?" he asks, his curiosity piqued.

Y/n's laughter fills the space, a sound as enchanting as the ocean waves of her hometown. She sits beside him, the fabric of her dress whispering against the leather seat. "It's a surprise," she says coyly, her hazel eyes twinkling with excitement. "But I promise it'll get our hearts racing." She pours them both a glass of champagne, the bubbles rising like the anticipation in the air. "To new adventures," she says, raising her glass for a toast. The clink of their glasses echoes in the quiet theater as they both take a sip, the bubbly liquid a sparkling prelude to the evening ahead.

The movie unfolds before them, a whirlwind of emotion and action that mirrors their own burgeoning relationship. Nate is impressed by Y/n's performance, her raw talent as palpable as the tension in the air between them. He's lost in the story, his hand occasionally brushing against hers as they both reach for popcorn. When the credits roll, the theater lights flicker on, and Y/n turns to him, her smile a promise of what's to come.

The credits roll, and Y/n's eyes sparkle as she sets her empty champagne flute aside, her heart racing with the excitement of her surprise. She takes Nate's hand, her grip firm yet gentle. "Ready to find out what I've got planned?" she asks, her voice a seductive purr. She leads him out of the VIP box and down a narrow hallway, the anticipation thick as the fog rolls in off the Lunenburg harbor. They arrive at a side door, and she pulls out a set of keys with a flourish, her mischievous grin growing. "After you," she says, gesturing to the door. As it swings open, Nate's jaw drops. Before them is a Formula 1 racing simulator, lights flashing and the hum of the engine purring in anticipation. "I figured we'd see who's got the better reflexes," she says, challenging him with a wink.

Nate's eyes widen like a kid in a candy store, his competitive spirit igniting at the sight of the racing simulator. He looks over his shoulder at Y/n, her grin contagious. "You're playing my game now, darlin'," he says, his voice a low rumble of excitement. He strides over to the simulator, running his hand over the sleek design. "But you better hold onto your hat," he adds, a twinkle in his eye. He takes his seat, the leather hugging his body, and straps in, feeling the adrenaline surge through him like the opening faceoff of a playoff game. "Let's do this," he says, eager to prove his mettle on this unfamiliar turf.

Y/n's smile widens as she watches Nate's reaction, thrilled to see his excitement match hers. She gracefully takes her seat in the adjacent simulator, her dress riding up slightly, revealing her toned thighs. "You're on, Nate," she says, a hint of challenge in her tone. She straps in, her eyes gleaming with the thrill of competition. The lights dim, and the screen flickers to life with the starting grid of a legendary race track. "Ready, set..." she counts down dramatically, her thumbs hovering over the buttons, "Go!"

The simulators roar to life, the vibrations echoing through their bodies as they're thrown into the digital world of high-speed racing. The tension in the room is palpable as they navigate the twists and turns of the track, the sound of virtual engines filling the air. Nate's competitive instincts take over, his eyes narrowing in concentration. Y/n's laughter pierces the tension, her car weaving expertly through the virtual traffic.

The race is tight, with Nate's initial excitement turning to focus as he quickly picks up the controls. His mind races, calculating every turn and gear shift with the precision of a seasoned racer. Y/n, not to be outdone, holds her own, her years of watching and learning from the best translating into surprising skill on the simulator. Their cars stay neck-and-neck, each trying to outmaneuver the other, the competition as fierce as any live race. The room feels electric with the energy of their rivalry, the air thick with the scent of competition and the faint scent of burning rubber from the simulator.

Nate's knuckles whiten on the steering wheel, his eyes locked on the screen. He feels the thrill of the chase, the same rush he gets when he's on a breakaway in a game. "You're not so bad," he says, his voice tight with concentration. He tries to ignore the way her dress shifts with every movement, revealing a little more of her creamy thighs, but it's like trying to ignore a puck flying at his face at full speed. "But I think it's time to show you how a real Nova Scotian plays." He floors the gas pedal, his car shooting forward, the virtual tachometer climbing to the red.

Y/n laughs, her eyes sparkling with delight. She's used to being underestimated in the racing world, but Nate's playful confidence only fuels her desire to win. She tightens her grip on the steering wheel, her delicate fingers moving with surprising deftness. "Oh, really?" she says, her voice a teasing purr. "Let's see if your ice skills can keep up with my rubber on the road." She expertly navigates a sharp turn, her car's virtual tires screeching as they cling to the digital asphalt, pulling ahead. The thrill of the race is intoxicating, her heart thumping in her chest like the bass at a stadium concert.

The challenge is laid out before him, and Nate can feel the blood rushing through his veins, pushing him to win. His heart hammers like a drum in his chest as the race reaches its climax. With a final burst of speed, Nate's car crosses the finish line a split-second before Y/n's. He throws his head back and lets out a triumphant laugh, the tension in the room shattering like a pane of glass. “How about we celebrate first?" He pauses, the idea of inviting her to his place suddenly feeling incredibly right. "Would you like to come back to my place for a nightcap?"

Y/n's eyes widen in surprise, but she quickly recovers with a laugh. "Well played," she says, her voice filled with admiration. She unbuckles herself from the simulator and stands, her dress hugging her curves as she does so. She takes a deep breath, the thrill of the race still coursing through her. “Yes," she says, looking into his blue eyes, "a nightcap sounds delightful."

As they walk towards the elevator, their excitement and anticipation for their prize and the evening ahead is palpable. The elevator doors slide open, and they step inside, the air between them thick with unspoken desire.

The moment the elevator doors close, Nate feels a magnetic pull towards Y/n. He leans against the wall, his eyes never leaving hers, the victory of the race still echoing in the air. The elevator ascends, and the confined space seems to shrink around them, the tension building like the crescendo of a rock anthem.

The penthouse is a testament to Nate's success, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of the city lights, twinkling like the stars he dreamed of reaching as a kid. The living room is tastefully decorated, a mix of modern elegance and cozy comfort. The sound of ice clinking against crystal fills the air as Y/n pours the whiskey, her movements as smooth as the liquid's flow.

In the dimly lit penthouse, the warm glow of the pendant lights casts intriguing shadows across the room as they make their way to the bar. Y/n's dress clings to her curves as she bends over to grab an ice bucket from the freezer, the fabric stretching taut against her derriere. Nate, his heart racing like the engine of a Formula 1 car, catches a tantalizing glimpse of her bare skin where her dress meets her thighs.

As Y/n reaches for the ice bucket, Nate's breath catches in his throat, his eyes drawn to the tantalizing slice of bare skin revealed by her elegant dress. It's a moment frozen in time, as if the universe itself is holding its breath. The scent of her perfume, a heady mix of jasmine and vanilla, fills the air as she straightens up with the ice, her cheeks flushing ever so slightly at being caught. The tension in the room is as potent as the whiskey she pours into their glasses, each clink of the ice a staccato beat in the symphony of anticipation. She turns to face him, her eyes meeting his, and for a split second, their connection feels more intense than the roar of a packed stadium. She leans against the marble countertop, her fingers brushing against the cool surface, and whispers, "Would you like your drink with or without the ice, Nate?" The question lingers between them, loaded with a double meaning that sets his pulse racing.

Nate sets his jaw, trying to keep his composure as he watches Y/n's dress hug her curves. He swallows hard, his thoughts racing like a Zamboni on fresh ice. He tries to focus on the question she posed, his mind a whirlwind of desire. "Straight up," he finally manages to say, his voice gruff with restrained passion. He takes a step closer to her, the heat from their bodies palpable. "And while we're on the subject of things being bare..." he trails off, his hand reaching out to gently trace the line of her leg, revealing the secret she'd so artfully hidden. His touch sends a shiver up her spine, and she looks up at him, her pupils dilating with a mix of surprise and arousal. The room seems to tilt on its axis, the city lights outside the windows a blur as he leans in, his breath warm against her ear. "I think we should be... completely honest with each other," he whispers, the words hanging in the air like mist over a rink before a game.

Y/n's breath hitches as Nate's calloused fingertips graze her bare skin, sending a bolt of electricity through her. She turns to face him, the whiskey in her hand momentarily forgotten as their gazes lock. "Honest?" she echoes, her voice a soft purr. She sets the glass down, the sound of the liquid sloshing in the background a gentle reminder of the reality outside their bubble. "Alright, Nate," she says, her eyes never leaving him. "If we're playing this game..." She takes a step closer to him, her chest brushing against his, the friction sending sparks through the air. "I've had a crush on you since I first saw you on the ice." Her cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink, her heart thundering like the bass at a concert. She reaches up and traces her fingertips along the line of his jaw, feeling the stubble tickle her skin. "But I'm not here just to be another notch on your stick," she whispers, her gaze searching for him. "I want to know the real you, not the NHL poster boy."

Nate's hand stills on her leg as her words sink in, his heart skipping a beat. He's used to the adoration, but the idea of someone wanting the person beneath the jersey is a novel concept. He takes a step back, his hand dropping to his side, his expression suddenly serious. "You've got a deal," he says, his voice gruff. "But you have to be ready for all of me." He swallows, his eyes searching hers. "The scars, the long nights on the road, the pressure of the game." He reaches out, his thumb tracing the line of her lower lip, his eyes searching her face. "But I promise you'll be worth every moment."

The air in the penthouse is charged with a heady mix of desire and honesty. Nate's words hang in the air like the mist of a Zamboni freshly grooming the ice before a game. Y/n feels the warmth of his thumb on her lip, the calloused pad of his finger sending a shiver down her spine. Her hand, which had been resting on his chest, begins to move lower, her fingertips brushing against the fabric of his trousers. His eyes follow the movement, and she can feel the muscles in his abdomen tense as she traces the outline of his manhood, which is growing harder with each passing second. The sound of their breathing fills the room, as loud as the cheers of a stadium.

Y/n gasps as the cold air of the room hits her exposed skin, her eyes fluttering closed as Nate's mouth finds her neck. His kisses are a delicate dance along her collarbone, each touch igniting a wildfire of passion within her. Her hands fumble with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel the heat of his body against hers. As the dress falls away, she steps closer, pressing her breasts against the firmness of his chest, feeling his heart pound in time with her own. She arches into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips as he teases her nipples. His fingers slip between her legs, and she can't help but let out a whimper of pleasure as they find her already drenched folds. She looks up at him, her hazel eyes dark with desire. "Nate," she whispers, her

Nate's eyes blaze into hers, a fiery storm of passion and want. His breath is ragged, his chest rising and falling with the intensity of his need. He gently lifts Y/n, setting her on the countertop, and steps between her legs, the cold marble a stark contrast to the warmth of her skin. He kisses her again, deep and demanding, as his fingers explore the slick heat of her arousal. The taste of her is intoxicating, and he can't get enough. He kisses along her neck, his teeth grazing her sensitive flesh, making her squirm. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice hoarse with desire. He slides a finger inside her, and she gasps, her hips bucking against his hand. The sight of her, so open and eager, drives him wild. He can feel his own desire straining against his pants, begging for release. He breaks the kiss, his eyes never leaving hers as he asks, "Can I have you, Y/n? All of you?" His hand stills, giving her a moment to consider his words, the air thick with anticipation.

Y/n's eyes are hooded with lust, her body trembling with the promise of what's to come. She nods, her voice a breathy whisper. "Yes, Nate." She wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. She reaches down, her hand fumbling with his belt, urging him to give in to the passion that burns between them. "But I want all of you too," she says, her voice a seductive challenge. She can feel his pulse racing against her thigh, the evidence of his arousal pressing into her. She kisses him again, her tongue tangling with his, the sweet taste of victory mingling with the whiskey on his breath.

Nate's eyes darken at her words, his resolve shattering like a pane of ice. He unbuckles his belt and unbuttons his pants, freeing himself from the confines of his clothes. His erection springs free, and he groans against her mouth as her hand wraps around him. He's thick and hot, and her grip is firm and sure, sending waves of pleasure coursing through him. He pulls back, his eyes never leaving hers as he guides himself to her slick entrance. "Hold on," he warns her, his voice gruff, and then with one powerful thrust, he's inside her. The sensation is like nothing he's ever felt before, a perfect mix of tightness and wetness that makes him feel like he's coming home.

Y/n's eyes widen as Nate fills her completely, the feeling of him inside her more exhilarating than any race she's ever experienced. Her nails dig into his back, her legs tightening around his waist as she adjusts to his size. The initial shock of penetration gives way to a deep, pulsing need that makes her hips rock against his. She whispers his name, the sound lost in the cacophony of their mingled breaths. Her walls clench around him, the friction building with every movement. Her mind swims with sensation, the cold marble beneath her contrasting with the fire building within her. "More," she gasps, her voice a needy plea, her eyes never leaving him. Nate's movements become more urgent, his hips slamming into hers with a rhythm that matches the pounding of their hearts. She can feel the climax approaching, a storm gathering on the horizon of her consciousness.

Nate groans at her desperate whisper, his strokes deepening, each one more demanding than the last. The feel of her tight around him, the sound of their bodies slapping together, is like music to his ears. His muscles flex with the effort of holding back, of drawing out the moment, savoring every second of their connection. "Look at me," he commands, his voice low and authoritative. She obeys, her eyes meeting his, and the intensity of the connection sends him over the edge. He kisses her hard, swallowing her cries as he pours himself into her, the release more powerful than a breakaway goal in a tied game.

Y/n's eyes lock with Nate's, the depth of his passion mirrored in hers. Her breath comes in ragged gasps as she feels him pulse inside her, the warmth of his release mingling with her own climax. She clings to him, her nails digging into the flesh of his back as her body quivers with pleasure. Their hearts pound in unison, a testament to the raw intimacy that's taken them both by surprise. As the waves of ecstasy subside, she nuzzles into his neck, whispering, "That was incredible."

Nate gently withdraws from her embrace, his eyes never leaving hers. He can see the dazed contentment reflected in her gaze, and it fills him with a sense of triumph and adoration. He takes a moment to appreciate the beauty of her flushed cheeks and the way her chest rises and falls with her rapid breaths. With a soft smile, he lowers himself to his knees, his hands sliding down her thighs. He kisses her gently, moving from her hip to the juncture of her legs. His tongue flicks out, tasting the sweetness of their combined pleasure, and she gasps, her hands coming up to tangle in his hair.

Nate feels the tremble of her thighs as his mouth finds her sensitive spot, his tongue delving into the warm, wet heat of her. His movements are slow and deliberate, savoring the sweetness of their union. Her grip tightens in his hair, and he knows she's close again. He presses his thumb into her clit, and her body arches off the counter as she cries out, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave. He laps at her, relishing the sound of her pleasure, until she's trembling and boneless. He kisses her inner thighs, his eyes meeting hers with a smoldering look. "Ready for more?" he asks, a wicked grin tugging at his lips.

Y/n's eyes glaze over with passion as she nods vigorously. Her breath is still coming in gasps, her body still quaking from the intensity of her climax. She watches as Nate stands, his muscles rippling with the effort of holding himself back. She reaches for his hand, pulling him closer, her voice a soft purr. "I could never get enough of you," she whispers. Her legs wrap around his waist again, and she feels the tip of him at her entrance. She tilts her hips, inviting him in, her eyes never leaving his. As he sinks into her, she throws her head back, her hair cascading down her back like a waterfall. She gasps, her nails digging into his shoulders as the sensation consumes her. The room spins with the force of their love making, the only constant the beat of their hearts and the rhythm of their bodies joined in ecstasy.

Nate's grin widens as he feels her body welcome him back inside, the heat of her enveloping him like the warm embrace of a sauna after a long, cold game. He takes his time, savoring the feel of her around him, her wetness coating him. He moves in a slow, steady rhythm, their eyes locked as they climb the peak of passion once more. The penthouse fades away, the only reality the sound of their breathing, the scent of their desire, and the feel of their skin sliding together. His hand moves up to cradle her neck, his thumb resting gently on her pulse point, feeling it race like a car chasing the checkered flag. He whispers sweet nothings into her ear, their bodies speaking a language more profound than words could ever express.

Y/n's eyes flutter shut as she feels the waves of pleasure build once more, her body moving in tandem with Nate's. Her breath catches in her throat as he hits just the right spot, a spot she didn't even know existed. Her nails dig into his shoulders, leaving a trail of half-moons on his skin. She can feel the tension coiling in her core, tightening with every stroke, every whispered word, every kiss. Her heart races, her body alive with sensation, the penthouse spinning around her. The world outside no longer matters; there is only Nate, only this moment. She whispers his name, a chant, a prayer, as she feels herself getting closer to the edge.

Nate's eyes never leave hers, watching her intently as she succumbs to the pleasure he's giving her. Her body's responses are a symphony he's eager to conduct, each gasp and moan a note that tells him where to take her next. He speeds up, feeling her tighten around him, her walls clenching and releasing in a delicious rhythm. His own need is building, the pressure at the base of his spine growing unbearable. He leans in, capturing her mouth in a deep, hungry kiss as he feels her body start to shake. He knows she's close, and he's determined to take her over the edge.

The taste of her is addictive, the scent of their arousal intoxicating. He can't get enough of her, his tongue delving into her mouth as his hips piston in and out of her. His hand moves to her clit, pressing and rubbing in time with his thrusts. He feels the tension in her body coil tighter, her legs quivering around his waist. He kisses along her neck, his teeth grazing her sensitive flesh, and feels the moment she tips over. She cries out, her body arching, and he follows her into oblivion, his own climax hitting him like a body check against the boards. He holds her tightly, their bodies entwined, as the aftershocks of their shared release ripple through them.

The night has passed in a whirlwind of passion and whispers, the early morning light filtering through the blinds, casting a warm glow over the disheveled penthouse. The sound of distant city traffic and the faint hum of the air conditioner serve as the soundtrack to their quietude. Nate stirs, the warmth of Y/n's body a comforting presence beside him. He rolls over, brushing a strand of hair from her face, and can't help but smile at the sight of her peaceful, sleeping form. He gently traces the curve of her cheek with the back of his hand, feeling a sense of protectiveness and affection wash over him.

Nate's eyes follow the curve of Y/n's bare shoulder as the morning light kisses her skin. He leans in, pressing a tender kiss to the hollow of her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of their mingled cologne and perfume. He whispers, "Good morning," his voice a gravelly rumble that tickles her ear. She stirs, a lazy smile playing on her lips as she opens her eyes to meet his gaze. The room is alive with the electricity of their newfound connection, the air thick with the promise of the day ahead. He runs his hand along the soft curve of her waist, feeling the smoothness of her skin. "How about a shower?" he suggests, the hint of mischief in his eyes as he playfully nips at her earlobe. She giggles, nodding in agreement, and they both swing their legs over the side of the bed. He stands, pulling her to her feet, and leads her into the en-suite bathroom, the marble and chrome gleaming in the early light.

Y/n stretches languidly, the fabric of Nate's shirt, which she's been wearing from last night, sliding up to expose the tautness of her midriff. She nods sleepily at his suggestion, her eyes still half-closed, the smile on her face a silent agreement to the unspoken invitation. She allows him to guide her into the spacious, gleaming bathroom, the sight of the oversized shower sparkling with the promise of warm water and intimate moments. She reaches for his hand as they step into the shower, the cool tiles a sharp contrast to the heat of their bodies. The water cascades over them like a waterfall, and she gasps as it hits her back, the sensation both soothing and invigorating. She turns to face him, her eyes sparkling with excitement, the droplets catching in her lashes like diamonds. "Race you to the shampoo?" she teases, a glint of challenge in her voice.

Nate chuckles, his eyes lighting up at her playfulness. "You're on," he says, the competitive spirit flaring in his gaze. He reaches for the shampoo bottle, squirting a generous amount into his palm, and they both laugh as they attempt to lather their hair. The soap bubbles up, mixing with the water to create a frothy veil around them. They playfully shove and bump into each other, the tension of the race giving way to a more tender moment as they help wash away the remnants of the night. Nate's hands glide down from her hair to her shoulders, gently massaging the tension out of her muscles. "You know, I could get used to this," he murmurs, his thumb tracing the outline of her collarbone.

Their laughter fades into a contented silence as Nate's touch sends a shiver down Y/n's spine. She feels his eyes on her, and the heat of his gaze is like a brand, leaving a trail of fire wherever it goes. She bends down, her knees hitting the cool tiles with a soft thud, and takes him in her hand. His gasp is music to her ears as she looks up at him with a smoldering gaze. She licks her lips, the anticipation palpable, before leaning in to take him in her mouth.

Nate's eyes widen with surprise and desire as he watches Y/n drop to her knees. Her mouth envelops him, her tongue swirling around him in a dance as mesmerizing as any she's performed on the screen. His hand automatically reaches out to cradle her head, his fingers tangling in her wet hair as she takes him deeper. The sensation is overwhelming, a delicious mix of pleasure and vulnerability that has him groaning her name. Her eyes never leave his, the hazel pools reflecting the steamy ambiance of the shower, her cheeks hollowing as she applies suction. He feels the tension build in his body, his legs trembling slightly as she expertly teases and pleasures him. The sound of the shower's water mingles with his labored breaths and the soft wet sounds of her mouth working him.

Y/n savors the taste of Nate, the salty sweetness of him mixing with the scent of his cologne. She loves the way he feels in her mouth, the power she holds in bringing him such pleasure. She continues her rhythmic motion, her hand gently squeezing the base of his cock in time with her bobs. She feels his hand tighten in her hair, the pressure increasing, and knows he's close. The knowledge fuels her own arousal, and she can feel the throb between her legs, a testament to their unbridled passion. She moans around him, the vibration sending him over the edge. He bucks into her, his body tensing, and with a shout, he releases into her mouth. She swallows every drop, a satisfied smile playing on her lips as she looks up at him.

Nate's knees almost buckle at the intensity of his climax, his eyes squeezed shut as he tries to hold onto reality. He can feel the last tremors of pleasure rippling through his body as he opens his eyes to look down at Y/n, who's still on her knees before him. He can't believe she's real, that this incredible woman is here, with him. He reaches down, gently helping her to her feet. "You're something else, you know that?" he says, his voice husky with emotion. He pulls her into his arms, kissing her deeply, the taste of themselves mingling on their tongues.

The shower turns into a gentle embrace, the steam wrapping around them like a warm blanket. They wash each other's bodies with the same tender care they had shown in their lovemaking, the warm water cascading down their skin as they reconnect in a more intimate way. Their kisses are soft and lingering, their touches gentle and explorative. They're learning each other's curves, each other's hearts.

Y/n's eyes dance with mirth as she looks into Nate's, feeling the warmth of his body pressed against hers under the steady stream of water. She reaches up, her hands sliding over the planes of his chest, the droplets of water tracing paths down his muscular frame. "I could get used to this too," she murmurs, her voice a soft purr. She reaches for the body wash, the scent of the ocean filling the air as she squeezes a dollop into her palm. She spreads the soap over her hands and begins to glide them over his body, her touch feather-light yet firm, her eyes never leaving his. As she washes him, she can't help but feel a sense of awe at the power and beauty before her. His body is a testament to years of discipline and hard work, a canvas of muscles that flex and tighten under her touch. She pauses at the scar on his cheek, tracing it with her thumb before kissing it softly. "What's the story behind this?" she asks, her voice a mix of curiosity and affection.

Nate's eyes crinkle at the corners as he looks down at her, his heart swelling with affection. He takes a moment, the warm water washing over them both as he recalls the memory. "That?" he says with a small smile, his voice a little softer, a little more serious. "It's from a game a few years back. A high stick that got a little too close for comfort. Reminds me that no matter how good you are, the game can be unforgiving." He pauses, his gaze drifting to the ceiling before coming back to hers. "But it's also a reminder of the camaraderie in the locker room, the guys patching me up, making sure I was okay." His eyes hold hers, the intensity in them unmistakable. "It's a part of me, just like all the other scars and bruises from the ice. Each one has a story, a piece of my journey." He leans down, his forehead resting against hers, the water beading between their faces. "But right now, the only story I want to write is the one with you."

Y/n's heart swells at his words, feeling the weight of his past and the depth of his passion for his sport. She kisses the scar softly, her eyes never leaving his. "I can't wait to hear all of your stories," she whispers, her voice filled with genuine interest. "But for now," she says, her tone turning playful, "let's finish this shower before we're prunes." She grabs the shower gel and starts to wash herself, her movements sensual and mesmerizing, her eyes never leaving Nate's.

Y/n's departure to film her next movie is bittersweet, leaving a void in Nate's life that only the adrenaline of the impending Stanley Cup playoffs can begin to fill. As the Broncos' event fades into a cherished memory, the buzz of the NHL season crescendos. Nate throws himself into training, pushing his body to its limits, each stride and slap shot fueled by the memory of Y/n's touch. Meanwhile, Y/n immerses herself in her role, the vibrant colors of the film set a stark contrast to the starkness of the ice rink. Despite the distance, their bond strengthens with each shared moment, every video call a bridge spanning the miles. Nate's excitement for her new project is palpable, his eyes lighting up when she tells tales of the set, and her voice hushed with wonder as she describes her scenes. Yet, the ache for her presence is a constant reminder of their newfound love.

Nate's phone buzzes with a notification as he walks into the Avalanche's locker room, a gossip article titled, "On-Screen Sparks Between Y/n and Jacob Elordi Heat Up!" The room fades into the background as he clicks on the link, his heart racing. Photos of Y/n and Jacob in passionate embraces on set flood the screen, the headlines painting a picture of a blossoming romance. Nate's stomach twists with a mix of anger and jealousy. He tries to shake it off, telling himself it's all for the cameras, but the doubt lingers, a pesky fly buzzing around his head. He glances around, hoping none of his teammates noticed, and quickly locks his phone. He doesn't want to admit it, not even to himself, but the thought of Y/n with anyone else sends a cold shiver down his spine. He grits his teeth and heads to the ice, channeling his turmoil into his game.

The game that night is intense, the pressure of the playoffs magnifying every move. Nate plays like a man possessed, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts about Y/n and Jacob. Each hit on the ice feels like a blow to his ego, and every time he looks up into the stands, his gaze unconsciously searches for her. She's not there, of course; she's on a different continent, living a life that he's only a part of through a screen. He scores a goal, the roar of the crowd briefly drowning out his thoughts, but as the game ends in victory, the doubt returns with a vengeance. He dresses quickly, eager to escape the arena, the cold shower doing little to cool the heat of his jealousy.

After a grueling practice session, Nate sits on the bench, wiping sweat from his brow. He pulls out his phone, the weight of the earlier article still lingering in his mind. He opens it to find his inbox flooded with articles about Y/n and Jacob, each one more intrusive than the last. He scans the headlines, his jaw tightening as he reads about their "intimate" scenes and "off-screen chemistry." He tries to focus on the upcoming playoff games, the smell of the ice and the echo of skates a comforting reminder of his own world. But the doubt is like a slow burn, a persistent whisper that nags at him. He texts Y/n, trying to keep the inquisition casual. "How's filming going?" he asks, his thumb hovering over the send button for a beat too long before finally hitting it. The wait for her response feels like an eternity, his thoughts swirling with images of her in Jacob's arms.

Y/n, on the set of her movie, is bombarded by the same articles. Her cheeks flush as she reads the fabricated narratives, knowing the truth behind the scenes. The kisses and touches are just part of the script, a dance they perform for the camera. Yet, she can't help the sting of guilt that pricks her conscience. She quickly responds to Nate's text, her thumbs flying over the phone's screen. "Filming's amazing, but tiring. Lots of long days. How's your game?" she writes, her heart racing. She tries to keep the conversation light, hoping her words can be a beacon of truth in the fog of doubt that's starting to form between them. She sends a selfie with a cheeky smile, her hair in messy curls from the day's filming, the glitz of the movie set just visible in the background.

Nate's phone buzzes in his pocket, the sound piercing through the fog of his thoughts as he exits the shower. He pulls it out, his heart jumping at the sight of Y/n's name. Her smile on the screen feels like a warm embrace, but the set behind her is a cold slap of reality. He smiles back, trying to keep his anxiety at bay. "The games are intense," he types, his thumbs moving with forced casualness. "Just scored the game-winner. But it's all a bit hollow without you here to celebrate." His eyes dart around the empty locker room, and he wonders if he's fooling himself. He hits send, hoping she can't feel the weight of his unspoken words.

Y/n's eyes light up at Nate's message, a welcome respite from the sea of scripts and lights. She takes a moment to breathe in the quiet of her trailer before responding. "Aww, you're too sweet! And a game-winner?! That's incredible, Nate!" she writes, her heart swelling with pride. She adds a series of celebratory emojis, trying to inject some of her usual vibrancy into the digital conversation. "Send me a video of the crowd going wild. I wanna see that magic!" Her mind wanders to the thought of their hands entwined, her cheering echoing through the arena, but she keeps it to herself, not wanting to add to his stress.

Nate's face softens at the sight of Y/n's message. He quickly pulls up the video of his winning goal and sends it to her, the roar of the crowd still echoing in his ears. "Here's the moment," he says, his voice filled with both excitement and the tension of unspoken words. "It's nothing without you here to share it, though." He watches the video again, remembering her cheers from the Broncos game, and wishes he could hear her again. The silence in the locker room feels like a vacuum.

Y/n's heart skips a beat at Nate's admission. She wishes she could be there to celebrate with him too, but the world of Hollywood waits for no one. She looks at the clock on her wall, the hands ticking away the precious minutes she'd rather spend talking to him. "You're amazing," she texts back, her voice filled with warmth and pride. "But I gotta run. I promised Jacob I'd grab lunch. Just two friends, you know?" She adds a winking emoji, hoping to ease the tension she feels through the screen. Her eyes flick to the door of her trailer, where she knows the paparazzi are lurking. "It's all part of the job, babe," she reassures him, trying to keep her voice light despite the heaviness in her chest.

Nate's smile fades slightly at the mention of Jacob's name. He nods to himself, trying to keep the jealousy in check. He knows it's just work, but the thought of her with anyone else is a thorn in his side. "Yeah, of course. You go enjoy," he responds, his voice a mask over the turmoil inside. He forces a grin into his tone. "Send me a pic of you two, will ya? Maybe I'll photobomb your next set." He laughs, trying to play it cool, but his heart feels like it's in a vice.

Y/n can almost hear the tightness in Nate's voice. She knows he's trying to hide his feelings, and she can't blame him. The distance and the nature of her job make things complicated. She sends a quick photo of herself and Jacob on set, both of them in costume, surrounded by the bustling crew. They're laughing, their friendship as real as the love scenes are fake. "Here's one for the road," she writes, her thumb hovering over the send button. She's careful with her words, not wanting to stir the pot any more than necessary. She adds a heart emoji at the end, hoping it's enough to remind him that she's his.

Nate's eyes widen as the photo comes through. The sight of her with Jacob does nothing to ease his jealousy, but he forces himself to appreciate the humor in the situation. He laughs awkwardly, trying to play along. "Looks like you two are having a blast," he writes back, trying to keep his tone light. Inside, he's torn. He's happy she's living her dream, but he can't help the green-eyed monster that rears its head every time her name is linked with another man. He puts his phone down, trying to push the thoughts away. He knows she's with him, but the doubt still lingers.

Y/n's stomach flutters as she and Jacob return to set. The PR manager, a stern woman named Margaret, beckons them into her office. The moment they're behind the closed door, she wastes no time. "We have a situation," she says, her voice tight. "The tabloids have picked up on your... friendship, Jacob's popularity is soaring, and we think it's time to announce your relationship to boost publicity for the film." She slides a mock magazine cover across the desk, Photoshopped images of them looking like the perfect couple. "What do you think?" Y/n looks at Jacob, whose expression is unreadable. She feels like she's on thin ice, not sure if this is a good idea for Nate and her relationship. She takes a deep breath, the smell of the set's fake snow and the buzz of the film's lights filling her nose. She glances at her phone, a silent reminder of Nate waiting for her reply. "I know you're dating Nate but the public doesn't know that." Margaret says. "I think if you both were on board we could play up the whole Y/n and Jacob, the new Hollywood sweethearts image".

Y/n feels like she's been hit by a freight train. "I...I need some time to think," she stammers, her heart racing. She sends Nate a quick message, her hands shaking. "Something's come up, baby. Nothing bad, I promise. Just need some time to sort through some work stuff." She looks back at Margaret and Jacob, the gravity of the situation setting in. She thinks of Nate's smile, his gentle touch, and the passion they shared. "I'll get back to you," she says firmly, walking out of the office, leaving the fake magazine cover behind. She retreats to her trailer, the walls feeling like they're closing in. She paces back and forth, her thoughts a tornado of doubt and fear. She needs to talk to Nate, but she doesn't know how to begin.

Nate's stomach twists when he reads Y/n's message. He can feel the distance growing, and it scares him. He tries to focus on packing his gear, the familiar motions offering a semblance of normalcy. "Take your time," he texts back, his voice cooler than he intends. He throws his bag over his shoulder and heads out into the night, the cool air a stark contrast to the heat of his emotions. He needs to clear his head, to figure out how to navigate this minefield of emotions and expectations.

Y/n's eyes are glued to her phone, her thoughts racing. She knows she needs to tell Nate the truth, but she's terrified of losing him. She takes a deep breath, her chest tight with anxiety. "I can't lie to you, Nate. They want me to go public with Jacob for the movie, but you're all I want." She pauses, the silence of the trailer pressing in on her. "But if it means keeping us a secret, I don't know if I can handle it." She sends the message and waits, the seconds stretching into an eternity. The scent of her trailer's artificial flowers is a sad reminder of the artificial world she's trapped in.

Nate's heart stops when he reads Y/n's text. He understands the pressures of her career but can't shake the fear of losing her to the spotlight. "It's okay, babe," he replies, his thumbs trembling. "Do what you need to do for the movie. I just want you to be happy." He tries to sound reassuring, but the weight of his words is palpable. He leans against the cold brick wall outside the arena, the chill seeping into his bones. "But I need to be honest with you, too. This isn't easy for me."

Y/n feels a pang of guilt as she reads Nate's response. She hates that she's putting him through this. She sits down on the edge of her bed, her costume a stark contrast to the softness of the comforter. "Nate, I know it's not easy, and I'm sorry. But I promise you, it's all just for show." She pauses, her voice cracking. "You're the only one who makes me feel like this." She sends the message, her heart in her throat, hoping that her honesty can bridge the gap between them.

Nate's eyes scan the empty streets outside the arena, the distant honks of cars and the occasional shout of a fan echoing in the stillness. He takes a deep breath, feeling the cold air fill his lungs. He types back, "I trust you, Y/n. I just don't trust them." His eyes flicker to the photo of her with Jacob on his phone, the fake smile on her face haunts him. "But if this is what you need to do for your career, then I'll support you." His voice is steady, but his hand is shaking. "Just don't forget who you're coming home to." He hits send, his heart hammering in his chest.

The world seems to spin faster than ever as the news breaks. Headlines scream "Hollywood's New Power Couple!" and Nate's phone is bombarded with notifications. His heart feels like it's been run over by a Zamboni as he reads the articles, seeing picture after picture of Y/n and Jacob, looking every inch the perfect couple. His teammates pat him on the back, whispering congratulations that feel like knives. The arena is alight with excitement for the love story playing out in the glossy pages of gossip magazines. Meanwhile, Nate is left in the shadow of their newfound fame, his own victories on the ice overshadowed by the glitz of Hollywood romance.

Nate's heart sinks as he reads the headlines. He tries to focus on the upcoming game, but the words on the screen keep pulling him back. He sends Y/n a message, trying to keep the pain from seeping into his tone. "Looks like the world's pretty excited about your big news. Congrats." His thumb hovers over the send button, his mind racing with what he wishes he could say, but doesn't dare.

Y/n's hand shakes as she reads Nate's message, the weight of the situation crashing down on her. She takes a deep breath, the smell of her trailer's vanilla candles offering a semblance of comfort. "Nate, please, you know it's just for the movie," she writes quickly, her voice desperate to be heard over the din of the set. "Jacob and I are just friends. You're the one I love." She sends the message, the words feeling both true and hollow in the face of the glaring spotlight on her and Jacob. She can't help but wonder if Nate will ever truly believe her, or if the illusion the tabloids have spun will overshadow their reality.

Nate's eyes narrow as he reads Y/n's text. He nods slowly, his jaw clenched. "I know," he responds, his voice tight. "But it's hard to ignore the whole world thinking otherwise." He turns his phone off, unable to bear the onslaught of notifications. He throws himself into training, the cold steel of the rink a stark contrast to the heat of the rumors. His thoughts are a maelstrom of doubt and anger, the ice a reflection of his tumultuous emotions.

The set of her new film is ablaze with excitement over the "relationship announcement," but Y/n's heart is heavy with the weight of her secret. She tries to keep her composure as she's bombarded with questions and congratulations from her castmates, all while her thoughts are with Nate. She can feel the distance growing between them, stretching like a taut line of barbed wire across the country. Her eyes well up as she thinks of his pain, and she retreats to the solace of her trailer. "I love you, Nate," she whispers into her phone, "and I'm sorry." She takes a deep breath, the scent of her favorite lavender lotion a sad reminder of their stolen moments together. She sends the message, hoping it can serve as a bridge over the chasm that threatens to swallow their love whole.

Teammates slap him on the back, congratulating him with smirks that feel more like punches. Nate forces a smile, his heart feeling like it's been scored by the skate of his own stick. He retreats to the shower, the water scalding his skin, trying to wash away the doubt. His phone vibrates with Y/n's message. He reads it, his heart in his throat. He whispers back to the cold tiles, "I love you too, Y/n. But this...this isn't what I signed up for." The hot water turns cold, but Nate can't find the strength to move.

Y/n reads Nate's response, feeling the chill of his words. She knew this would be difficult, but she didn't anticipate the ache in her chest. She sends another text, her thumbs moving almost of their own accord. "Nate, I need you to trust me. It's all just an act. I'll tell them the truth when the movie wraps. I can't live a lie." The silence of her trailer feels like a vacuum, sucking away the joy of her victory. She clutches her phone, willing him to respond, to understand.

Nate stands under the cold shower, letting the water hit him like a thousand tiny hammers, trying to dull the pain. He reads Y/n's message and sighs heavily, the steam from the water obscuring his vision. He steps out, grabbing a towel, his skin pink from the heat. "I do trust you, Y/n. But it's hard to ignore the headlines." His voice is quiet, echoing in the empty locker room. "I'm going to bed. Let's talk when you're done with... whatever you need to do." He hits send, feeling the finality of his words.

Nate's words hang in the air, a stark reminder of the turmoil their relationship has been thrown into. The locker room feels colder than the ice rink outside, the silence a stark contrast to the cacophony of the game that just ended. The scent of sweat and disinfectant fills the space as Nate towels off, his shoulders slumped with the weight of his emotions. He glances at the clock, wondering if it's too late to call Y/n, to hear her voice and feel the warmth of her reassurance. He dresses in silence, his mind racing with scenarios, each one more troubling than the last.

Nate's phone buzzes with another article. His hand shakes as he clicks it open, bracing himself for the onslaught of images. The sight of Y/n and Jacob holding hands, laughing, sends a knife through his chest. He closes his eyes, willing the pain away. When he opens them again, the headline reads, "Y/n and Jacob: The Love Story of the Year!" His breath catches in his throat, and he sends her a text, trying to keep his voice steady. "I need you to tell me this isn't real." His thumb hovers over the send button, his heart pounding in his ears.

Y/n's eyes widen as she reads Nate's message. Her heart squeezes in her chest like a fist. She quickly responds, her voice raw and desperate. "Nate, it's all for the movie. You're the real thing. The one I love." She looks at the script on the table, feeling sick. "Please, I need you to trust me. This is almost over, and then we can be together, really together." She sends the message, her pulse racing.

Nate's heart skips a beat. The weight of his gear feels heavier than usual. He takes a deep breath, trying to shake off the images in his head. "I want to believe you, Y/n," he types, his eyes never leaving the screen. "But it's hard to ignore what everyone else sees." His thumbs hover over the phone, contemplating whether to say more, to express the depth of his feelings or to give her space. He opts for brevity. "Talk to you soon." He sends the message with a heavy sigh and tucks his phone away, trying to focus on the upcoming game. The smell of the locker room's pine-scented cleaner does little to ease the turmoil in his gut.

The game starts with a roar from the crowd, but Nate's mind is elsewhere. He plays on autopilot, his eyes searching the stands for Y/n's familiar smile, his heart heavy with the burden of doubt. The final buzzer sounds, and the Avalanche emerge victorious, but Nate feels no triumph. In the locker room, the celebration feels hollow as whispers of his personal life reach his ears. The words cut deeper than any slap shot. He retreats to the quiet of the shower, letting the water drown out the taunts.

The locker room buzzes with excitement, the victory shower spraying cold water over the players. Nate's usually vibrant blue eyes are now a stormy gray, his thoughts consumed by the whispers and glances. The laughter of the wives and girlfriends reaches his ears, and he overhears a comment about Y/n and Jacob that feels like a punch to the gut. He grits his teeth, the pain fueling his decision.

Nate's grip on his towel tightens as he hears the casual conversation turn into a discussion about Y/n and Jacob. He can't ignore the sting of jealousy and the ache of doubt any longer. He storms out of the shower, water dripping from his hair and down his muscular back. Grabbing his phone, he calls Y/n, his voice laced with a mix of anger and pain. "I can't do this," he says without preamble. "Everyone's talking about you two, and it's like my heart's being squeezed by a vise." The sound of her voice is like a slave to his wounds, but he pushes through the hurt. "I think we need to take a break. Maybe... maybe it's better if we just... end this." The words feel like shards of ice in his mouth, but he can't deny the truth in them. The locker room noise fades into the background as he waits for her response, his heart pounding in his chest.

Y/n's heart plummets as she answers Nate's call, the sound of his voice filled with pain. She sits on the edge of her bed, her hair still damp from her own shower, her eyes brimming with tears. "Nate, no, please, it's all a lie," she begs, her voice trembling. She runs her hand over her face, smudging her makeup. "You're the one I want, you're the one I need." The set of the movie seems to spin around her, the glitz and glamor suddenly a prison. "If we end this now, it's like admitting defeat to the paparazzi. I can't let them win." She takes a deep breath, willing the tears to stay put. "Please, Nate, just wait for me. The movie wraps in two weeks, and then I'll tell the truth. I promise." Her voice is a desperate whisper, her heart racing in anticipation of his answer.

Nate's chest tightens as he listens to Y/n's pleas, his heart torn between love and doubt. He paces the locker room, the sting of the cold water still lingering on his skin. "Two weeks is a lifetime in the spotlight," he says, his voice gruff with unshed emotion. He glances at his reflection in the mirror, the bruises from the game stark against his tanned complexion. "But I don't know if I can handle watching you with him, knowing it's all for show." He runs a hand through his wet hair, the towel sliding to the floor. "I don't want to be the guy who can't handle his girl being famous." His eyes meet hers through the screen, searching for the truth. "But this is too much for me; I can’t share the woman that I love with someone else. Goodbye Y/n" The words hang in the air—a promise and a challenge all at once.

#nathan mackinnon #Nathan mackinnon x reader #nhl imagine #hockey

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musings-of-a-rose · 2 years ago

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Can I pls have "you made me a better person" with Santiago Garcia?

A Better Person

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x f!reader

Word Count: 650+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: Santi deserved to have some soft fluff love

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Santiago Garcia Masterlist

Santi never thought he would settle down. He definitely dated, but no one seemed right, no one made him want to stay and look for no one else, no one made him feel special, important.

Until you came along.

It was unexpected, a random encounter out in the world rather than at a bar or on one of those dating apps. You’d both reached for the same random flavor of chip on the shelf, Santi nearly choking on air as he took you in, his stomach leaping into his throat. He made small talk, flirted a bit, and oh my God when you laughed, the entire world laughed with you. He asked you out and you seemed shocked, like no one had ever asked you out before.

That was a year and a half ago.

Inseparable, you and Santi had moved in together after a year, a big step that Santi had never thought to take with anyone else. But now that you’re here? Everyday? He was so happy he thought his heart would burst from his chest. Getting to wake up next to you every day was his own personal heaven on earth, listening to the little sleepy sounds he’d pull from you when he ducked his head under the covers and shifted between your thighs. He didn’t see how he could get any happier.

Well…there was one way.

It was grocery day and Santi and you were at the store, picking up the things on your list and also checking out some new items. He seemed a little extra handsy today, always wanting to be touching you, his eyes nearly never leaving you. You turn the corner and head down the next isle, pausing to reach up for the same flavor of chips that you’d reached for when you met Santi.

“We gotta have thes-”

Words die on your lips when you turn around, seeing Santi on one knee, gently taking your hand, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Querida, before I met you, I was lost. I wasn’t the worst guy ever but I also wasn’t great. I’ve done some terrible things and I thought I was destined to just waste away, find no true love in this life. But then you came along and I was instantly drawn to you, falling in love the second you looked at me. I’m still shocked you agreed to go out with me,” He chuckles and you feel tears start to well up in your eyes.

“Every day with you has been the best day of my life. You made me a better person, a person worthy of your love, and for that, I am forever indebted to you. And I want to spend the rest of my life, and whatever lays beyond, trying to repay you. Querida, will you marry me?”

Santi holds out a small black box, opening it to reveal the most gorgeous ring you’d ever seen, exactly your style.

“Oh, Santi! YES! YES I would love to marry you!”

The widest smile stretches across Santi’s face as he slides the ring on your finger, standing up with a slight groan that was cut off by your lips on his, applause from the other customers fading in the background as you kissed him deeply, arms wrapping around his neck. He pulls back, putting his forehead to yours.

“I love you, querida.”

“I love you, Santi.”

Within a few months, you became Mrs. Garcia and never go a day without being loved.

—----

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed @ladykatakuri @marrianena @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics

#santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia x you #santiago garcia x f!reader #santiago garcia x female reader #santi x you #santi x reader #santi x f!reader #santi x female reader #santiago pope garcia #oscar isaac #oscar isaac character #oscar isaac characters #oscar isaac character fanfic #oscar isaac character fanfiction #oscar isaac character ff #santi garcia

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i0veless · 2 years ago

Text

LET ME MAKE IT CLEAR :: KYLIAN MBAPPE

𖥻 SUMMARY ー [ best to eradicate rumours - in style ] 𖥻 PAIRING ー [ kylian mbappe x fem! rapper/singer! reader ] 𖥻 GENRE ー [ fluff, suggestive content?, texting au ] 𖥻 WORD COUNT ー [ 1.2k ] 𖥻 WARNINGS ー [ making out, long distanstance?, rumors, mentions of twitter - let me know if I missed anything ] 𖥻 AUTHORS NOTE ー [ anon requested, "could you, please write a story about kylian mbappe and a rapper reader who is like nicki minaj pls" personally, I loved this request and it got me listening to a lot of nicki's music again, and this was actually inspired by one of the queens iconic verses - so hope you like it. also sorry for the lack of posting I have been having major writers block and lack of inspo, hopefully I should get a lot more works out in the next 2-3 week ]

➛ previous | taglist | masterlist | next

The rumours were part of the job. Part of the job description is being a celebrity, and in many ways, it could both help and hinder you - especially if you were a woman. On the one hand, it could boost your career; on another, it could sink it faster than the Titanic. Y/N L/N, an influential rapper and singer, knew all too well the impact of having baseless rumours thrown at you. Her name was attached to everyone and anyone (at some point or another) with no rhyme, reason or proof. So it made sense that she chose to ignore most of them and focus on herself and her private life.

Yes, her private life was why everyone speculated, as people wondered who had stolen her heart. The rapper had stated that she was in a relationship multiple times but refused to specify with who as she wished for the relationship to remain private. But you know, the internet, they can't keep their noses out of other people's business. So naturally, the witch hunt began, and Twitter went up in flames every other day, trying to figure out who had captured the up-and-coming star's heart. No name was off-limits.

In the beginning, Y/N found all the hilarious speculation amusing, laughing about it with her friends (who were said to be possible love interests), but after a while, it started to get on her nerves. People were relentlessly holding on to the topic like a dog with a chew toy, and after six months and a discussion with her lover, she finally decided to put the rumours to rest - in style.

"Are you sure?" the rapper's close friend and manager Monica asked for the nth time of the night as they stood backstage. "I'm positive Mon. I've talked with Ky about it, and he agreed," the couple agreed they were going to reveal their relationship on one of the most important dates of the music calendar, the 67th Grammy Awards. But in a far more creative way than most normally would. As they say, nothing conveys emotions better than music.

"Now, welcome to the stage for her first-ever grammy performance Y/N L/N!" stepping out on stage, the air was heavy with tension as the crowd of fans and other music alumni were eager to see the artist who had been nominated for 5 Grammys preform. The lights dimmed, and the backup dancers got into their positions as the backtrack began to play.

"I never fucked Giroud. I never fucked Neymar. On my life, man, Fuck's sake. If I did, I'd menage with 'em, And let's eat my ass like a cupcake. My man full, he just ate, I don't duck nobody, But tape. Oh, and yeah, and by the way, my man's name is Kylian Mbappé." The audience was shocked at the freestyle rap, and the camera panned to the faces of other celebs to get their shocked reaction. The most notable one was that of the queen bee herself Beyoncé as she nodded in approval and bopped to the beat, while another memorable response was that of one of her best friends, Doja Cat, as she was losing it with laughter.

The freestyle then segued into her Grammy-nominated song Woman, as the flawless choreography and unforgettable spotlight moments made it one of the night's best performances. It ended in thunderous applause and multiple viral moments. As she walked backstage after the successful performance, she wiped off the thin layer of sweat from her forehead. She opened her phone to find it crowded with thousands of notifications, but the only ones she was only interested in were those from the love of her life - Kylian Mbappe.

KY KY

people are already talking lol by the way great performance mon ange your ass looked great on the carpet give me a private concert later?

Y/N only if you can keep up mon roi

KY KY you know I love it when you speak french ma reine

Y/N what can I say I have a great teacher

KY KY you know I can teach you so much more than french

Y/N really? I doubt it babe

KY KY come back home and I'll prove you so wrong mon amour

Y/N baby you know I can't I have press and shit to deal with

KY KY ik ik but a man can dream can't he

Y/N have fun entertaining yourself my dear

(5 photos attached) (2 videos attached)

KY KY your gonna get it when you get back

Another thing you should know about being a celebrity because it makes you an awfully good liar. Now there was no sinister intent behind Y/N lying to Kylian. The rapper just wanted to surprise him, so as she pulled into the new PSG training centre, she kept a relatively low profile as the new owner of five Grammys did not want to attract any unwanted attention. Walking to the reception, she was greeted by one of the coaching assistants and a few cameras. She had let them in on her plan to surprise her boyfriend, and in return for their help, they would get a video for their youtube channel.

As they walked towards the outdoor training area where the first team where hard at work, sure, they all looked hot, but Kylian was miles more than the others. Hot and sweaty, looking like some sex god rather than a Ligue 1 player. The number seven played a round of Tika taka with Neymar, Messi, Ramos, Hakimi and Veratti. He was oblivious to what was happening as Y/N slowly crept up behind him - placing a finger over your lips to tell his teammates to keep quiet after they noticed your presents.

"So Kylian, how's everything with your girl" Neymar, the little pot stirrer he is, had to milk this situation for its worth so that he could have something to tease his teammate with later. "Great man, I mean, god, she's perfect. I know it's a bit early to say, but I can see myself marrying her." safe to say everyone's hearts melted at the French player as he gushed over his girlfriend. Tried to hide, Y/N embraced her boyfriend in a hug from behind. "I love you too, Ky."

Turning around in shock, safe to say, Mbappe's eyes were larger than a football as he spun his girl in the air before kissing her. "What are you doing here? I thought you had work." the football star asked with nothing but love and affection as he buried his head in the crook of her neck. "I missed you. And I wanted to surprise you. Also, I lied." the rapper said, giggling at the look on his face. "Why you, little" With that, Kylian threw her over his shoulder and ran off with her as she screamed in fear and begged to be put down. Kylian refused.

As everyone watched the reunited couple get lost in their world, they couldn't help but smile at how happy the two made each other. "They are gonna get married," Ramos said, taking a sip of his water. "And I will be Kylian's best man," Neymar said jokingly. "Hate to break it to you, brother, but as long as I live and breath, that position is not available", Hakimi chimed in bluntly.

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cloudcountry · 10 months ago

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Introducing your ikemen to your mutuals would be interesting enough to be a documentary , whether it be all of us one by one or just a massive dinner with at least 5 of your mutuals present

Vincent would be happy to meet the moots especially if you told him we might be a bit harsh (because he knows this is a good thing. That it means people care about you)

He just has a nice dinner. He's a green flag greener than the spring grass. If I'm there then I definitely bring up art as a subject, he probably says something extremely sweet about the happiness you've given him seeping into his art.

Will is terrified, prepares a 50 page script full of potential questions and answers to practice for it. Nothing can prepare him.

It's funny to watch him sweat like a sinner at church as he experiences first hand what unpredictability is as a person . He's literally holding your hand under the table.

He's freaking out over nothing though, the people actually like him but he does not realise it until its over.

His people reading skills just stopped working because he was too concentrated over making a good impression lmfao -

Isaac is holding a cross. He prays for divine intervention.

Someone is probably there for emotional support. It's probably Dazai. He enters the location through the window and Isaac damn near faints because of it .

Dazai and his tendencies being met with good banter by your friends ease isaac's nerves, yes, but he will die before he admits it aloud.

And of course, Dazai needs no applause.

He wouldn't have asked for it anyway.

(There are jokes to be made about isaac holding a cross for Divine intervention and what proceeds to happen, but I'll just let it hang in the air)

Zero is perfectly fine, prepares himself mentally so that he can properly express how serious he is about you but that's just him doing what he feels is the right thing and not fueled/caused by the nerves.

(Oh man this just gave me another idea, imagine V inviting all your friends to an RFA party to make a good impression. Auburnverse x MM crossover when)

OMG.....THEYRE MEETING THE FAMILY NOW SJDJSDJDSJSDJ

vincent's is so real...everyone would adore him. he'd walk in and the room would brighten immediately. he'd be so delighted to meet everyone fr fr

vincent: hello everyone! its nice to meet you!

the mooties: ...omg

I CAN SEE WILL BEING NERVOUS YEAH!! he wants things to be perfect (an after effect of his masks and trauma...) so he tries his best to make sure he has the perfect gentleman mask for everyone (only to have it be ripped away when i start encouraging him to actually be himself around everyone SHJJSDJ)

PLS SOME OF MY MOOTIES WOULD SWARM DAZAI IF HE CAME TOO SAJHDJHDFHJ poor isaac,,,,, he'd be so scared you guys can be too chaotic for him :(( i'll let him rest outside if he needs it because i know how tiring things can be sometimes if you're friends withs o many people HAHSDHASDHASDH

zero would be fine, if not a little awkward!! i think he'd get comfortable quickly though, he's just not used to interacting with people and actually letting them decently close.

OMG JIHYUN HOSTING AN RFA PARTY AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA it would be a decent sized party too!! he would make suc a good impression i know he would (even though i know a few of my mooties/followers arent a fan of him but its okay we can make it work!!)

#rubia <3 #isaacwillvinburn

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koaly-ty · 8 months ago

Text

Different Princess (Episode Reacts)

Spoilers for Different Princess from episode 24 to 26. And its done. That's where I have watched till. Until I skipped and watched the last episode 36. So this covers EP 24 BEWARE

Ep 24

his ring…….:(, so pretty why sad:(:(:(

oh i thought it was a subtitle error:o

she's trying so hard not to look at the finger

aaaaaaaaand now its her turn to say sappy shit (i was happy dance, now dying of embarrassment)

pumpkin u just interrupted your a-die and step a-niang (singsong)

ik a lot more than u do, poor gongye qi, bro just cant catch a break huh

awwwwww he lights up on seeing her, u have an angel in your hands or lap literally

u say this now but ur own mother is involved…

they so sweeeeeeeet (cries happy tears)

oh no embarrassment incoming so much embarrassment (hides face)

why do master and servant share one braincell (facepalms) u have the kid and u r surprised why she mentioned parenting techniques.!!

did they lock the door(sinks a little more into the ground)

aaaaaaaaagggghhhhhhhhhh (dies internally)

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa my eyeeees my eyyeyessss where r u putting your handsssss (i cant look at this i cant look at this wth wtf wth wtf) even the little white shorts dont have k.o. ability like this

welcome ladies and gentlemen to the circus of inducing second hand embarrassment, we have wandering hands, wet glistening skin, half naked men (do those shorts count as half or fully naked in ancient fantasy china…?), tripping flailing grabbing monkey clinging and the grand finale falling on each others lips

oh he lost his shorts, she screamed (rofl me dead), what right do you have to sink into that pool like that mister who_started_all_of_this

pls note i have passed away, my ghost, after it recovers will be discharged from the second hand embarrassment induced trauma unit of the afterlife's hospital and will take back up this narration

cant sleep? i wonder why, oh i dont know maybe because u traumatised all your viewers

oh you heard about it? do tell, what exactly did you hear (waggles eyebrows) does the entire estate knowww

well arent you a fountain of great ideas (remember u are responsible for what happens next) even ur employer is skeptical bro but he's gonna take it….onto the next embarrassing showdown,(will i have to be admitted to the second hand embarrassment induced trauma unit in ghostlife)

u are forgiven on the sole account that you are a character and have no idea about the tropes present, ladies and gentlemen anytime and anywhere if someone offers u things like that, u know its going to be poison or lo and be hold, an aphrodisiac (deadpan)

well father_to_be, somebody appreciated that view ;)(-‿-)

helllloooo dramatic entrance, (blows trumpet) presentingg the consequences of inbibing unknown substances sold in shady markets under shady names….

aiyyyoooo rofl, well misunderstanding debunked! sexy bedy hair flip, somebody applaud this man. he has read the sexy prince's guide to ancient fantasy romance

He's gonna wish he'd never asked….dum dum dum(insert omnius bgm)

Ep 25

overly cheerful today morning isnt somebody?

the supreme embarrassment of a morning after where u cant look at each other in the face anymore because they have now seen u at your most pathetic horny state

wow she's just really accepting of her husband's lover and the kid huh

oof bangs (appreciate the looks ur serving)

yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa tooooooooooo smexxxxxxxxxxy get off the screen people ewwwwww cringeeeee

YAOYAO run away, bro u are an asshole, and also everyone take a drink for every person who forgets where their body will land up in the end (here's a hint: the morgue, undergoing autopsy)

this gremlin is remorseless and a perfect actor, u two are gonna be besties bro

everyone give mr. pastels a round of applause, so subtle, so smooth, no suspicion at all (eyeroll)

the emperor is also in on this assassination scheme?

Ep 26

did u seriously drag yaoyao into, u total jerk, how much more of an asshole can u be

plss dont make an embarrassing fashion entry

and she does (embarrassed facepalm), ji chu pls give all those servants a raise

ummmmmmmmmmmm i like this guy awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww, someone pls ask him which guidebook to romance he has wriiten because more characters shall need it or have once been in desperate need of it, overdressed out of jealousy, soothing feelings with food, he notices, he takes action, take that every single idiot who smiles and does nothing else, learn from him

enough said about mr pines-for-his-brother's-wife, yaoyao i hope you know what you've volunteered for because this idiot wont see you

#different princess #cdrama #episode review #so we have reached the end #my notes are officially empty

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misdeliria · 5 months ago

Text

I've been seriously thinking about Homelander from The Boys: Diabolical, "One Plus One Equals Two," because he was Superman for a second. I'm caught up on The Boys s4, and he is such a piece of shit—a total psychopath—but Homelander, when he initially joined the 7, just wanted to be a good person.

I saw a Cal-El with trauma manipulated into a triggering situation. He was, at one point, a salvageable person...Or, at least, I can write him as one.

(OP pls ignore if you don't want ff involved with your post)

Spoilers below! & I'd like to emphasize that I'm rewriting Homelander because it's been circulating in my head. I am in NO WAY romanticizing the live-action canon mf (if you don't like this, keep scrolling)

On our cue, I walk out onstage with Black Noir. The cameras are flashing in the crowd, and the spotlight is blinding even with the tinted goggles.

Noir throws his hands up as the crowd roars louder in applause, and it takes everything in me not to roll my eyes.

"Oh, enough, Noir!" I announce into my mic, tugging him back. The audience laughs at my playfulness. "We're here to welcome our new teammate, not steal his spotlight."

Turning over, I see the rookie standing awkwardly in the dark. Holding my hand out, I beckon him over, and my skin crawls when he misunderstands and takes mine in his.

Quelling my anxiety, I plaster on a smile.

"The Homelander, isn't it? Congratulations." I give his hand a prompt shake before pulling away. I send him a sincere look, assuring him in some way because the nerves he emits wash away.

"Thank you, Road Runner. I've been a huge fan since your debut," the rookie lobs back.

"I'm flattered and eager to start working with you." I don't bother looking back at the audience because this P.R. stunt has already consumed much of my time. "I think you're going to do a lot of good."

After the show, I'm decompressing in the meeting room. All the cameras are gone now, and the floor is clear of civilians. Playing games on my phone is fresh air away from my hero-personality.

Timid steps approach the meeting room, echoing off the high ceilings.

"Oh, it's you," I murmur, eyeing the blond-haired, blue-eyed rookie dressed in his stupid flag. "Tired of it all yet?"

"Tired of what?"

"All the attention?" I raise a brow at him, and he laughs nervously.

"Not really. Not yet, at least." He steps up to the center table, admiring every inch of the room.

Total rookie, I think, sighing and leaning back in my seat.

"You don't remember me, do you?" I ask him, watching how he searches for the memory. He looks genuine—I can tell the weight of his past hasn't come crashing down yet. "I don't blame you. They probably did a number on you."

That seems to spark some recognition. "What do you mean?"

"I was there too...In that facility. It was only for a little bit, but they put me through the same bullshit." I can feel the way he tenses up as I balance my phone on its corner, distracting myself. Glancing up at him, I can tell by his expression that he's back there—reliving all of it. Rushing to his side, I bring him back to reality when my hand touches his arm. "I think you understand what I mean. And, for what it's worth, I'm sorry they did all that to you."

Haunches raised, The Homelander swats my hands away with a scowl. "What do you know about it?"

Patience, I remind myself. He doesn't realize.

"I know how heat-resistant I am because of their tests. And, I mean, how badly can poison actually hurt without killing us, am I right?" I offer him a weak smile. "They did all of that just to get us here. And it wasn't even worth it, I'm telling you right now."

"Why did they keep you there?" I could tell he was curious and a little offended. Shaking my head, I hadn't meant to imply he wasn't unique enough to have exclusive treatment—a sign of Vought's brainwashing.

"I wanted to tell you that I remember because we were kids when I saw you. We didn't understand why they were doing that to us." I rest my hand on his shoulder, squeezing him in solidarity. "But now, they're going to be worse. They're going to use that trauma to control you for their own agenda. And if you really want to do good out there, you'll recognize it quick."

Something flickers in his bright blues for a moment before it's replaced with skepticism.

"How do I know you're not just saying this to get in my head and earn more popularity for yourself?"

Dropping my hand, disappointed, I blow air into my cheeks and step away.

"I don't care about the goddamn ratings. I didn't even want to be here today, but it was you. I saw your file, and I knew you were joining, and I tried to be...I wanted to help you with the transition." Sighing exasperatedly, I shake my head. "They're already getting to you; you can't let them."

Gritting my teeth, I feel like I've failed. The Homelander's looking back at me, confused but trying to mask it with arrogance.

"Something's going to be wrong on a mission, and you're going to get overwhelmed," I tell him because it's the truth. It happens and is human, but we weren't raised like humans. We were raised like lab rats. Locked up, away from civilization, and tortured—then expected to perform like trained circus animals for the sake of funding it all. "I'll be there to help. That's all it will be—and I hope you'll see that."

Moving faster than light to get out of the building within the next second, anxiety rattles me. The environment at Vought drains me and wears me down like a toxin, and reliving my worst nightmares with the rookie sent me over the edge.

Pulling out my phone, I call the doctor, and it connects me to her direct line.

"Hello? Morgan? I need to come in," I say desperately. "I can't- I think I'm going through a panic attack."

(definitely going to add on to this later, but it's 3am rn so gn hope you liked)

"John, why don't we-?"

"Homelander."

John is dead. I saw John, at that chemical plant trying not to hurt anyone too badly, pride and virtue in his eyes, someone trying to be a good person. But at that point you'd already done so much that it didn't take a lot to kill him and erect a foul monsterous abomination in his place. 'Just doing your job' is the cause for thousands tortured and murdered.

#homelander x reader #but like #canon divergent homelander #he'll still turn out terrible #but only after i can prove i could fix him haha #then i'll rip you away just for his lore #the boys #the boys s4 #the boys tv #the boys spoilers #the boys presents: diabolical #homelander

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thelovelybitten · 1 year ago

Text

vera’s first watch of south park — season five (part 1)

lfg babes i’m bored so lets watch

EPISODE 1:

LETS GO NEW SEASONNNNNN

KEPT THE BANGER INTRO YES WOOOOTTT

there’s a shit counter HAHAH LETS SEE HOW THIS GOES LMAO

BUTTERS VANDALIZING THE WALL

but tbh he slayed it

EVERYONE EXCITED ABT THE FUCKING SHIT LINE I CAN’T

kyle: i don’t give a fuck (SO REAL)

NOT THE CHEERS AND APPLAUSE HAHAH

huh ?? raining frogs ???

timmy SAID IT LETS GO

kyle is abt TO BLOW UP

sand in the vagina — cartman will not let him go

GARRISON NOT THE F SLUR

S H I T

what the fuck are these the seven deadly sins or sumth

cartman and his shirt LMAO

okay KYLE POP AWF he’s my smart bby boy

shit…twice, BFFR

chef helping the core four solve this stuff KING SHIT

CARTMAN STOP

no NOT KENNY ANYONE BUT KENNY PLS

okay who the fuck is this guy

no kenny looks so sick :’(

oh WHAT THE HELL

a rune ??? okay

LAS VEGASSSSS LET’S GOOOO

GANDALF???

MEECROB OH MY GOD CARTMAN WAS RIGHT

JIMBO IS A HOMOSEXUAL INTERESTING

shit counter thru the roof

not A WHOLE ASS DRAGON

CARTMAN LET IT GO FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

KYLE PREACHING 2 THE GOSPEL ICONIC

oh that was fucking feral i did not need to see all of kenny’s intestines

interesting ep

EPISODE 2:

FIRST NIGHT OF SCOUTS ?????

yO STAN THAT WAS OUTTA POCKET

timmy being strapped onto the back of the pickup

BUTTERS

KENNY AND STAN’S DAD ARE SHOOK

JIMMYYYYYY

give timmy his spotlight pls

well. last season he got it so ig give jimmy it

not the homophobia….

OKAY JIMMY POP OFF

JIMMY PLEASE NOT THE PLAN B JOKE

TIMMY BEING ROBBED BUT I LOVE JIMMY

BIG SILLY GOOSE

YOU DO NOT SAY BIG SILLY GOOSE— YOU CALL HIM AN ASSHOLE LIKE A NORMAL KID

but dad, i was just trying to—

STANLEY YOU CALL YOUR FRIEND AN ASSHOLE THIS INSTANT.

asshole.

CRACKED ME UP LMAO

troop 69 oh they knew what they were doing

jimmy this is so bad

oh BUT THESE IMPRESSIONS FUCKING SLAYED

okay BUT DON’T GET TIMMY I’LL BE MAD

jimmy deserved

homophobia is not cute STOP

oh MY GOD TIMMY KNOWS WHAT’S UP

kenny jacket is bad luck ig

the way jimmy avoided everything

jimmy ripping on timmy is not cool i’m mad

NAKED PICTURES ?!?!?!?! NOT THE CHILD PORNOGRAPHY

butters tryna explain they being exploited

not THE PUPPIES CARTMAN

OH THEY FIGHTIN

kenny’s parents and brother in the chapel aw

OH FUCK THEY GOING AT ITTT

everyone and their mothers watching two disabled kids beat each other up… weird

not THE NUTS

NOT IT BEING BROADCASTED

hc: all those boys are scarred abt their nude photos being taken and the unfortunate thing is the photos get leaked when they’re in college and it’s so bad :(

wait has kyle not been here the whole time.

WAIT

oh FUCK KYLE WASN’T HERE

prolly bc of his religion or sumth

anyways get the homophobes so true and real

real

wait what

timmy wyd

timmy OH MY GOD LMAOOOOO

okay that last bit was funny alr

EPISODE 3:

radiohead special guests???

cartman wtf u mean u got pubes

wait what the fuck

stan real

KYLE ATE

nah don’t mess w cartman

CARTMAN U DID NOT ATTACH THOSE—

oh lord…

damn scott gaslit the gaslighter

this what he gets for being 8 years old

oh beg FOR IT HE SAID GET HIM

also cartman deserves it

WOW SCOTT IS RUTHLESS

WENDY IN FRAME I MISS HER

everyone is so… dumbfounded

GOD CARTMAN LMAO THIS IS GOING NO WHERE

uhm. this is so awk

undercover cartman

okay pls hold must feed my cats

okay am back

wait must control my cats

back fr

NED NO

also wtf

cartman pls this is a gag

scott one upping cartman is so iconic

YO CARTMAN THIS WAS GENIUS NGL

WHAT THE FUCK CARTMAN THAT WAS TOO MESSED UP

tbh don’t mess w cartman

anyways gonna go 2 bed will continue at a later date

EPISODE 4:

GOOD EVENING GAMERS IM BACC

let's get’r done

not the terrance n phillip shit i dispise them

they shitting their PANTS FOR T AN P

kyle real for waiting for those tickets

oh kyle abt to eat those words oh no

YO TERRANCE IS BIG BRO

wait who the fuck is this

“kenny’s a random slut” damn cartman

clyde i love u my son

THEY GOING TO CANADA MY HOME

phillip being part of an acting crew ok

cartman right kyle oh boy

KENNY’S ARM WHAT THE FUCK— HE GONNA BLEED OUT

NOT HIS OTHER ARM :’((((

i’m sad abt kenny this is torture

mid ep :/

EPISODE 5:

oh damn… i’m sorry cartman

oh no wait this boy being ungrateful as normal

HUH SHE LEFT CARTMAN 1 MILLION DOLLARS

OH NO EGOMANIAC IS ON THE RISE

WENDY WYD FOLLOWING CARTMAN

kyle being real part 8393659373

he gonna. buy a whole ass amusement park for himself

NO NOT THE HEMORRHOID

not style angst

CARTMANLAND how fucking fitting.

style gonna beat his ass as they should

I NEED MY CWEAM— I NEED MY CWEEEEEEEM

properTAH

kyle in his delulu era

butters and clyde icons

STAN LSNDNCHSJDNCN I WISH U GOT AWAY W IT

KYLE U BETTER NOT DIE

kenny got bodied by that pole

kyle PLEASE MY SON DON’T DO IT

I LOVE WHEN KARMA KICKS CARTMANS ASS

“YOU ARE UP THERE ;”)” KYLE DSKHGHDSGSJJS UNHINGED

#faves: south park #viv watches #CARTMANLAND EP SLAYED #runner up was the scott malkinson ep #!!!#gettin goin #WOO

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mashimarshmello · 2 years ago

Text

Shoot My Shot

Pairings: crush!jeongwoo x reader

warnings: kissing, partying but no mentions of alcohol, a mix of highschool!au and coffee shop!au, danielle from newjeans is your best friend

word count: 2.3k

a/n: hellooo! i hope i did okay for my one of my first requests. i tried my best to make it line up with the scenario so pls enjoy!

"one hot chocolate for jeongwoo." you sat the coffee down on the table. you've always seen jeongwoo around school and you couldn't help but look at him every time he was around. he had such a nice smile every time he greeted you in the hallway.

since he played basketball, you would go to the games with your friend, danielle, when you didn't have to work. he was also nice to everyone, unlike some of the others guys on the basketball team. he would come to the coffee shop from time to time so he knew you for always making his order just the way he likes it.

"thanks, y/n." he says as he takes a sip of his drink. you smile and walk away. you take a glimpse of the shop to see that it isn't very busy, so you see this as an opportunity to make small talk with your crush. you walk back over and he looks up at you.

"hey, i was wondering when's the next game?" you asked knowing that there was one later that night.

"there's actually one tonight."

"oh really, who are you going up against?"

"jyp high."

you raised your eyebrows. "jyp high? aren't they like your main competition?" you air quote and he nods his head.

"yes but if we win, the team is going to throw this huge party."

and that's when it hits you. if they win, you have a chance to see jeongwoo outside of school and the coffee shop. you have a chance to show off and make an impression. jeongwoo's phone dings as he gets a notification from his coach. "i gotta go. practice is starting soon." he grabs his bag and heads out the door.

"okay, well good luck." you walk back feeling like you've made progress. after a couple hours, your shift ends and you call danielle and tell her that your on your way to pick her up. you're excited to tell her you finally initiated a conversation all by yourself with him. you made your way to your friends house to text her that you're waiting outside for her. she runs to your car and yells, "are you ready for the biggest game of the year?!"

you laugh while unlocking the door for your friend. “alright now, get in.”

"ooouuu somebody seems to be in a good mood." danielle sings, hopping into your car and you start the ignition.

"a little bit." you giggle. "i may or may not have talked to a certain someone at work." danielle grabs your arm while your driving off.

"oh my god, shut up." she smiles big. "tell me what happened! i wanna know!" her excitement bursts out of her. if you could count on anyone, it was definitely danielle. she was your number one supporter no matter what. you told her exactly what happened and she gives you a round of applause, making you laugh again.

"oh my god, babes, do you know what this means?" your friend anticipates.

"that i get to see my crush outside of school and work. yeah, i already ran that through my head." you accidentally sigh out.

"hey, don't be nervous. i'll be right beside you." she grabs your hand and holds it with both or hers.

"thanks, danielle. i don't know what i would do without you."

"probably make a fool out of yourself." she laughs, making you roll your eyes.

a few minutes later, you two finally made it to the game and bought your way in. danielle always likes sitting closest to the court, so you made your way down the bleachers right before the game starts. jeongwoo catches a glimpse of you in the front row. you may have been to the basketball games before but this is the first time he's seen you at one.

the game goes on, and throughout the game, both teams were neck and neck. your eyes kept batting from the court to the clock, hoping that jyp high loses just this once. it's the last 5 seconds and jeongwoo takes the ball. he doesn't have much time as the clock is ticking. he made his decision to shoot the ball from the half court and everyone gasps behind you. the buzzer beeps as jeongwoo's shot unexpectedly makes it, making the crowd yell and hop out of their seats.

you and danielle cheer loudly until the excitement dials down. "we need to go so i can change my outfit!"

"what are we waiting for? let's go!" danielle grabs your hand and leads the way until you get to the parking lot. danielle starts walking backwards as she's face to face with you.

"okay, so what look are we going for? cute? alternative? sexy??" she dances in tiny, turning back around to grab your arm.

"i don't know. what do you think will look best on me?" you pucker your lips as you go deep in thought. then a lightbulb pops in your dear friend's head.

"i got it! you can wear that hot outfit you wore once to your aunt's party a few months ago. that way you'll stand out and jeongwoo will definitely notice you."

you cover her mouth and shush her. since you two were outside in the lot, anyone could've heard her if they were close enough.

"don't tell the whole world my crush, danielle." you whisper loudly. she puts her hands up in defense and starts speed walking to your car. little did you know jeongwoo was close enough to hear that whole conversation. he was just in the car next to yours. when he found out, he was shocked. jeongwoo honestly didn't know how to feel about it, so in that moment he brushed it off as he went and got ready for the party.

it's 10:00 on a friday night and almost everyone who was at the game was already at that party. you and danielle make your way to the doorstep before opening the door, hearing music blast from the other side.

"wait, danielle, before i go in, how do i look?" you straightened up your outfit preventing any wrinkles.

"babes, you look perfect." she smiles as you shy away from her compliment. "jeongwoo won’t be able to take his eyes off you when he sees you. just make sure you don't give him every bit of your attention. play it cool and keep it cool, okay?" you take a breath and nod before she opens to door.

this is not danielle’s first party like this, but you on the other hand have your eyes going everywhere admiring how the party looks. the huge eight foot speakers in the living room, the flashing lights from inside and outside the house, and the random glow in the dark objects around the room has you feeling good. great even as a matter of fact.

your friend grabs your hand and takes you to the dance floor as 'ok!' from nct u is playing. you decided to let loose and start feeling the music, forgetting the main reason you're there. jeongwoo is talking to one of his teammates as he catches a glimpse of danielle on the floor. "is that danielle?" his friend asks in curiosity.

jeongwoo turns his head seeing danielle and then double takes as he sees you on the dance floor. he almost didn't recognize you.

"who's that dancing next to her?" he asks. "that's...that's y/n." jeongwoo stares off. he can't take his eyes off you. a smirk grows on his face without even realizing.

he turns back to his teammate to find that he's out of sight. he looks around to find him but his eyes fall back on you. he looked away a couple times to not seem like he was creeping. that is until he lost sight of you, and part of him wanted to find you and talk to you.

in that moment, you lost danielle and you could only look for so long in a crowded area. you gave up and went upstairs to find the bathroom. the place was big enough to get lost, so after you used the bathroom, you went into a random room to relax for a little bit.

for the first time since you stepped into the house, you thought about him, your crush. you wonder how the night got away from you, hoping you didn't mess up your plan to catch his eye. then you hear a subtle knock on the door. you look over to see who it was.

"oh hi." you say as calm as possible. coincidentally, the knock was from jeongwoo. you stand up, signaling him that it was okay to come in.

"hey." he walks in only at the front of the entrance. "i didn't know you were a party person."

"i thought i'd give it a chance." you laugh nervously. jeongwoo smiles, looking down at his shoes.

"you look really great tonight, y/n." he says looking back up to meet your eyes. this time you look down at your shoes. your face starts heating up from his compliment. "thank you." you mumble, he barely heard you as the blasting music is vibrating from upstairs.

"sooo..." you elongate, slightly rocking back and forth on the heels of your feet.

"sooo..." he elongates as well, rubbing the back of his neck. the tension between you two was starting to grow. standing across from each other and hardly making any eye contact was making you anxious.

you suddenly start laughing, making the boy across from you confused. you cup your face and shake your head. "this is so awkward."

"i'm sorry, i didn't mean to make you feel awkward." he worries. "maybe i should just- i should go." he starts waking away. "wait, don't go." you grab his arm and pull him back. you look up to see jeongwoo close to your face.

"you have really pretty eyes." you say as if your in a trance. "so do you." he looks back and forth at your eyes and lips.

you close your eyes as you slowly lean into him. but both of you end up backing away and you clear your throat as danielle walks in...just your luck.

"y/n, there you are! i think i might've lost my phone." she gives you a wincing look. that moment between you and jeongwoo was ruined and you couldn't help but feel upset. you throw on a fake smile and walk towards danielle.

"okay, let's go look for it." you walk out the room, leaving jeongwoo alone and uncertain.

after you found your friends phone, you told her that you were ready to go. she immediately walked you to your car as she saw the sad look on your face. the ride was quiet and danielle started to worry.

"hey, you okay? did something happen between you and jeongwoo?" she asked sincerely. you sigh, it's not like danielle did it on purpose. you blamed it on yourself for not making a move fast enough.

"no, nothing happened. i don't wanna talk about it." you brushed off. danielle grabs your hand and holds it tight for the rest of the ride.

a week has past and you haven't heard from jeongwoo since the party. he doesn't greet you in the hallways anymore and when you see him looking at you, he looks away. you haven't seen him at the coffee shop either. it's like the two of you were avoiding each other and you didn't understand why.

one day at the coffee shop, you clean off the tables as you hear the bell ring from the open door. "sorry, we're closed." you say, too focused on cleaning so you can go home.

"any chance we can talk?" a familiar voice rings through your ears. you look up and see the pretty boy standing on the doormat.

"jeongwoo?" your eyes widen. "what are you doing here?" he walks towards you slowly.

"i want to apologize for avoiding you the past few days. i didn't know how to approach you since that day at the party when..you know."

you press your lips together, losing eye contact with him. "i'm sorry, too." you say. "it takes effort for both of us to avoid each other."

the tension eases but you feel the awkwardness between you two again. . "maybe we can just start over?" you speak up again, shrugging your shoulders.

"actually, i was wondering..." jeongwoo steps closer to you, his face only inches away from yours. your face starts heating up.

"...if we can pick up where we left off?" he finishes. you try and hide the smile that's growing from your face.

"okay." you slightly nod. he raises his hands to hold your face and presses a soft kiss on your lips. the moment hits you and you smile into the kiss before pulling away.

"does this mean you're my boyfriend now?" you gently smile, chuckling at the boy.

“that’s what you wanted, right?” he smirks. your eyes grow wide, slightly baffled at his remark.

“you knew?” you stand there shocked. jeongwoo nods slowly. “yeah, i heard you and danielle outside after the game.”

“oh my god, you weren’t supposed to hear that. no one was supposed to, actually.” you nervously chuckle. you hide your face with your hands.

“maybe I wouldn’t be in this place if I didn’t.” he shrugs. him saying that made you feel a little better about it. you grab his hand and intertwine it with yours.

"well, i guess since your my boyfriend now, you have to walk me home." jeongwoo laughs and you both head out of the cafe.

after all that happened, you don't regret it because you ended up with the guy you liked. and to you, the timing couldn't have been better.

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leossmoonn · 2 years ago

Note

list #1: [ RECITE ] sender quotes a poem that reminds them of receiver

okay hear me out on this one: nathan scott. BC HE WLD TOTALLY TRY TO MEMORIZE THE POEM TO IMPRESS YOU BUT HE GETS ALL FLUSTERED AND NERVOUS AND CUTE🥰🥰

pls hold the applause i will be here for the rest of time

SO TRUE. okay I used to this poem before but I couldn’t find one I liked before soooo

————

“I gotta say, I’m impressed,” you remark. “Oh, yeah?” Nathan grins. “Yep. Who knew basketball star and boy toy Nathan Scoff could be so romantic?” you grin. He shrugs, “I guess I’m full of surprises.”

You nod in agreement and peck his cheek. You wrap your arm around his as you two walk through the little shopping center at Tree Hill. Tonight is your third date with Nathan. Before going with him, you warned him that you wanted to take it slow. You didn’t want to get your heart broken, especially not by the jackass you thought Nathan was. You were a little surprised that Nathan agreed. You thought it would whine and complain about not having you in his bed yet, but it turns out he likes you enough to try something new. And something new meant actually dating. Not on and off sex like his last relationship with Peyton. You were worried he would be turned off by the idea, but in all honesty, he’s enjoyed getting to know you. You’re a very interesting, charismatic young woman that he’s completely wrapped up in. And he definitely showed that tonight.

“The sunset is beautiful,” you hum, looking at the nearby beachy area where it looked like the sun was melting into the sea. Nathan stares at you with a love sick smile on his face. “It definitely is.” You look at him, laughing as you catch him looking at you. “That was a little cliché, don’t you think?” you ask. “Did it work?” he asks. “Mm, it definitely did,” you beam. Nathan walks you to the beach, both of you sitting down in the sand.

“We should have brought our bathing suits,” you chuckle. “Maybe next time,” Nathan nods. You watch him closely for a few seconds. He’s twiddling his fingers, eyes darting around the area. He looks nervous. “Hey, you okay?” you ask. “Hm? Oh, yeah. I just… I want to show you something,” he says. You nod and fully turn to him. “What’s up?” “Um, it’s this poem,” he says. Your brows raise. You stare at him to make sure he’s not joking. “Really?” “Yeah,” he nods. “It’s for my English class assignment. And it’s about you. And I know you like poetry, so, yeah,” he explains.

You smile, “well, let’s hear it!”

“Okay,” he nods. He swallows visibly. “She walks like beauty, like the night. Of cloudless climes and starry skies; and all that’s best of dark and bright. Meet in her aspects and her eyes; thus mellowed to that tender light. Which heaven to gaudy days deny.” He watches you as he recites it, feeling more confident as your smile gets wider. Once he gets to the last few lines, he seems to forget the words. “Sorry I… I can’t remember them,” he frowns. “Well, it’s okay, Nate. I loved what you could remember. It was all very sweet. Thank you,” you grin. He shakes his head, “no, it’s not okay.”

You furrow your brows. “Why not?” “Because I… I wanted to impress you,” he blushes and looks away. You smile widely, slipping your hand into his. “Oh, Nathan. I am very impressed. The fact that you memorized more than half of it. I mean, honestly, from what I’ve heard from Haley and your grades, I’m surprised you could even read,” you tease. He rolls his eyes. “I guess I’m full of surprises then.”

“Nathan,” you say, lifting his head up with your chin. “I am very impressed. I’m impressed with this whole night, with you. With these three dates we’ve been on.”

“Yeah?” Nathan asks. “Mhm. And I am so impressed, that if you asked me to be your girlfriend, then I would say yes,” you grin. His eyes light up and a smile spreads across his face. “Y/n L/n, will you be my girlfriend?” You giggle and nod, “Yes, I will, Nathan Scott.”

#sara’s 4k pool party #leossmoonn 4k pool party #nathan scott #nathan scott x reader

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clarissalance · 3 years ago

Text

Who has the upper hand?

Pairing: Kaeya x G/N!Reader, mention of Varka and Diluc.

Warning: Slight swearing, Kaeya is a lil shit, reader being stubborn and scheming, immense tension

Summary: You’re so terrible at swordsmanship that you can’t withstand 2 strikes from Kaeya or, are you?

Word count: 3k5

Disclaimer: What is written in here is based on my imagination, nothing from this fic should be taken seriously. Most of the fact I put in this fic does not follow the lore of the game so it should only be taken as a grain of salt. For example: section 8 in Knight of Favonius codebook.

A/N: I struggle so much when I wrote this piece. This was suppose to be angstier but I tone down a little bit (because Kaeya was very OOC in my draft, I think he’s still a bit OOC in this fic but I tried my best ;-;, pls don’t bite me.)

How did author write a 50k+ oneshot? I can’t write something more than 5k properly ;-; Anyhow, please enjoy this fic. I’m going to have a good rest for 2 weeks before release a comeback. Please shower Kaeya and our new MC with a lot of loves!!!!

As a strategist of the knight of Favonius, you don't usually have enough time to finish the towers of reports, the never-ending meetings and dealing with cheap tricks Fatui diplomats. Often, you have to skip your daily sword training session, which results in a rather miserable situation. The whole practice ground is staring holes at your defeated posture. You are sitting on the hard soil ground, and the Calvary captain is towering you, his sharp blade just a few inches away from your throat.

It is not a strange scene for any knights to lose a spar against the Calvary captain, he should be one with the best swordsmanship after Grand Master, and maybe Acting-Grand Master, too. However, as knight, they can usually withstand him at least more than 2 blows.

Whispers and talks start to circulate around as soon as you stepped your foot in the training ground. It’s very uncommon to see people from that department wandering around this area. The strategy department is famous inside the Knight of Favonius to be the weakling-cunning-mouthy-jerks, who always find excuses after excuses to skip the monthly knight evaluation.

So, who gives them the right to be exempt from the test? Of course, it’s from the ultimate high chief of strategy department. Rumours say before the strategy chief works for the Favonius knight, the man was once a legendary attorney. That person can flip words from black to white, turns the defendant from guilty to innocent. With a profound convincing skillset coming from the chief, persuading the Grand Master Varka is easy as a piece of cake. The whole department of 10 people is easily off-hook for 3 years, never participate in the monthly evaluation before the man suddenly dropped the bomb 2 days ago.

“ I’m tired from coming with excuses to cover for your lazy asses.” The man waved his hand, his eyes staring outside the window. His nails scratching the messy shaved chin.“ Varka seems to get used to navigating my thoughts-”

“Maybe time is wearing away your skill-” At the corner, someone accidentally blurted out, and the whole table gave him a sharp look. Did he have a death wish or something? If so, everyone here can happily dig him a hole, free charge for the coffin.

The chief cleared his voice again, blue eyes melancholy drifted to the table. “So, you guys have tried your best on this monthly evaluation. I hope to see you all again next month.”

The meeting was dismissed afterwards, and everything spiralled into chaos. The whole department hasn’t touched anything aside from the parchment papers and the quills in the last 3 years. How are they going to master the swordman-ship in 2 weeks?

But, the worst thing is,

Your well-respected, talented, and tactful chief has run away.

The next morning, you received the news that a foxy old man is on a business trip to Fontaine with the Grand Master. The expedition is 2 weeks long.

You should have known what he meant when the deceitful man ambiguously ended his sentence like that. Nothing goes well when the chief said: ‘Farewell, my comrades’.

For the last 2 days, you have been starting to familiarize yourself again with how to hold a sword and how to swing the sword.

As you trail along with the long-forgotten memories, trying to look through the familiar feeling when swinging the sword, you hear footsteps coming in your direction. It is familiar, with the way the person is walking, the beat, the sudden burst of noise in the air, you can only conclude it’s the Calvary Captain. The practice ground seems livelier as soon as the man steps inside, people rushing to his side to give their greetings. Maybe today is one of his practice days.

“ Never thought I would see you here.” The young man calls out, successfully jostle you up from your thoughts. You give him a complex look and turn away, focusing on the tattered dummies. Your wrist is screaming in protest, legs wobbling. You remember those golden days when you were young when you were flexible, and your bones didn't crack as much. Oh, where the golden days have gone?

“What do I own the honour of seeing you here, captain?” You fold your arm defensively, voice monotonously. Kaeya despites the most when you start talking in an emotionless tone. Oh, how you love riling him up in the middle of the practice ground!

“ I come here for my weekly practice, but-” He shrugs, eyes glinting with mischief. “ look like the rumour about the abolishment of special permission for the strategy department is true.”

So he has heard the rumours. You roll your eyes, face blanks. You know Kaeya has his own way to obtain his information, but you never thought it’d be this fast. Words don’t easily leak from the strategy department.

“What do you need? Make it short, so I can practice for the upcoming evaluation.” Tired of his long introduction, you ask him directly. If you are going to ignore him any longer, the man will continue poking you.

Starting an argument only wastes your time, and asserting dominance in the middle of the training ground won’t boost your ego. You’re a strategist, your weapons are detailed plans and sharp word, not sword and bow. Showing off your strength in front of those ruthless knights don't improve your relationship with them.

“ Straight the point eh?” You give him an impatiently look, tempting to ignore him again before he flashes you a smug grin. “How bout sparing with me?”

The whole training ground falls in silence, and you direct at the captain a confusing look. Is he serious? No one in the knight except the Grand Master can go against him, not to mention someone who hasn’t touched a sword for three years.

“I can help you with your training, and you can help with mine” Kaeya speaks with utmost confidence that you almost nod and agree. That man is really deceitful, he knows how well your skill has gone dull, yet he still wants to practice with you? What is this man plotting?

“ Do you realize how absurd your offer is? ” You give him a complicated gaze, voice unwavering. Everyone takes in a deep breath, tension crackling. It's not everyday scenery you often encounter. A heated argument between the mischievous cavalry captain and the tactful strategist. Nosy people gather around the pair, internally hoping for the war the breaks out.

“ You know well that I can’t properly block your first strike.” Light-hearted, you joke, but there is no hint of amusement in your voice. Sharpe eyes glaring at the blue figure, you notice the man remains unfazed.

" Shouldn't you choose a more competent opponent?"

The sound whispers and talking about the reasons why Kaeya picked such an easy opponent start to circulate, and you can’t help to curl your lips up. Within a few seconds, you have effortlessly turned the gossiping direction toward your desired path. Flashing Kaeya a victorious grin, you tap your foot impatiently, waiting for his reaction.

You should have worked at PR damage control or marketing instead! The diplomat would have been fine too! At least, you wouldn’t need to practice swordman-ship.

As you mulling on your terrible choice of career, a chill runs down your spine. Tilting up, Kaeya is beaming sweetly at you, the frost slowly creeping up and nipping your shoes. Look like you just pressed the wrong button.

The man narrows his eyes, and you gulp nervously, avoiding his calculating gaze. Kaeya chuckles, his voice laced with worry, wavering and hurtful.

“I just want to help you improve as fast as possible. The test is coming in two weeks isn't it?”

The whole table has turned, and people start to say how considerate and thoughtful the cavalry captain is. The crowd starts to criticize you and tell you to be more grateful and stop suspicious of his unconditional help. Oh, you wish he wasting it on you, many knights in this training ground would love getting advice and improvements from him.

Applause for our dear Calvary captain, smoothly seeking empathy from the crowd and turning the favour back to him. No wonder how fast he climbed up the rank.

Bantering and arguing with a person like him is meaningless, so you accept his offer and drag your sword toward his direction. Let finish this within 2 strikes.

Moving to the centre of the field, both of you face each other, his eyes scanning you sceptically. What is this man plotting again? Bowing, you finally give him a warning look before standing at your ready position. Kaeya holds his sword, analyzing your starting posture.

As soon as the whistle blows, you charge at the man, opening the spar with a direct hit. Kaeya quickly raises his word up to block the first blow, the sound of steel clashing loudly. He then forcefully diverts the sword to the left, a classic way to counter the strike.

Knowing your limited strength against him, you take a step back and swiftly angle the blade downward, aiming for a weak spot at his waist. This move would create a noticeable weakness on your right, and only the idiot doesn't use this as his advantage to disarm you.

You’re right, he uses the loophole you planned, successfully disarm you within 2 strikes. The sword slips from your hand clanging loudly behind as your foot slips and fall on the ground.

His sharp blade is just a few inches away from your neck. The calvary captain wears a solemn look, his cerulean eyes imbued with irritation. Seems like he figures out you purposefully planed to end the match in 2 strikes.

Quickly raising your hand in defeat, you shoot him a taunting grin. The referee declares Kaeya is the winner, and people start to clap and cheer loudly, but overall no one is surprised. As the match end, audiences start to disperse, return back to their tasks.

Kaeya put his sword away and offers you his hand. You stare idly at the gloved hand a moment before putting yours on. The man effortlessly pulls you up, your body flush against his. With Kaeya so close to you, your first reaction is to push the man away, but his firm grip says otherwise. He inches closer, dark blue locks brush your cheek, tall figure towering you intimidating.

“Why end it so early?” He leans down and whispers, your body tenses up visibly. “Surely, you could handle more than 2 strikes of mine.” The young man in blue hums, his voice sultry.

“ What are you saying? I haven’t touched the sword more than 3 years.” You remind him, hands pushing his chest away, trying to create some distance. The man doesn’t budge an inch.

“Your strikes doesn’t say so. The first strike was not bad.” Noticing your effort to push him away, Kaeya stands straight, heels dig into the ground. His lips curl up at the helplessness flashing in your eyes. He loves seeing you struggle, seeing how anxiety and desperation rising in your sparkling orbs. “I think you could at least have a decent fight with me.”

“ Quit spouting non-sense Kaeya, let me go. We are in public.” You let out an annoyed hiss, punching his toned chest. He still wears the uniform improperly like that, the exposed tan chest can be under many layers. Sometimes you don't even know the reason why doesn't he just button the shirt up properly. Finger grazing at the bared skin on his chest, you turn your head away, cheeks heat up.

The man loves seeing you squirming in his trap, and you’re not going to let him see that. Anything, but satisfying his masochist hobby.

“You don’t like skin-ship?” The man fakes a gasp, his orb sparkles with mirth. “But you were being touchy with your friend. Why can't we be a bit touchy? ” His tone suggestively, the tall man snickers at your blushing mess. Out of everything, why would he mention that? You give him stinky eyes, brows furrow deeply.

“I’m not touchy with you.” You deny dreadfully. Archon, how long have you wasted your time here with this slithering serpent?

Kaeya arms wrap tightly around you, your body moulds perfectly into his embrace. You hate how perfectly you fit into his hug like this, but you can’t deny how warm he is, despite the fact he wields cryo.

“ When will you let me go?” Your voice starts to grow weak, dragging slightly in discomfort. Kaeya curiously looks down, noticing your pouting. Sensing his gaze, you turn your head away but his fingers have quickly grabbed your cheek, forcing you to look at his deep blue eye.

“Give me a kiss, then I'd let you go.” His voice serious, but what he just said is not. You look at the cryo wielder horrendously, mouth gaping. His face is composed and relax, like what he just ask is like asking about the weather, asking about your health, not for a kiss. Is he being serious? What in the world did he just ask? A kiss? Excuse me, a what?

“You...you are not being serious.” You wriggle your way out, escaping from his fingers, but his embrace tightens, caging you inside. Damn it, Kaeya. He’s messing with you.

When you flash him a furious look, the man shrugs nonchalantly, his cerulean lock fluttering gently in the wind. Suddenly, you have an urge to wipe off that calm demeanour. He can’t be serious. Why does he have to go all the way to annoy the shit out of you?

The smug grin hanging on his face, the mischief in his blue eyes, the arching brows, everything about him screams a flirt, yet you feel so mesmerized. Blinking a few times, you have to constantly remind yourself this man is not trustworthy. From the attitude to the way he looks at you, to the way he acts around you. Nothing from his action is truthful. Like Diluc’s warning, you can only believe half of his word and action.

“ Of course I’m being serious.” His voice solemn, but you can see the amusement in his eyes. If he doesn’t like you, why would he spend so much effort bothering you this much? What reaction is he expecting from you?

“ I really like you, Y/N” Kaeya confesses cheerfully, and you can faintly hear a few gasps around. Not this again...

Archon, you’re going to die early at this rate. You just want to practice for the upcoming evaluation, not becoming a hot topic for all Mondstadt citizen to gossip about.

And this man too, how can he easily slip out those words when you just heard him flirting with another woman the other day? You already told him numerous times that you’re not interested in dating him, or anyone right now!

Hung your head down in exhaustion, you tap his shoulder, mumbling quietly. “ Fine, fine.” You finally open your mouth, too exhausted and bothered by his stubbornness. He only wants a kiss, and you won’t hurt giving him one. Just a kiss then you can get back to your practice.

“Just don’t confess your love to me in a crowd like this again.” Before closing the deal, you weakly add a bargain, nudging him.

The calvary captain looks surprised, his eye widens little, not expecting you to agree. Normally, it takes another argument or two before you comply with his request. Kaeya timidly raises his gloved hand to your face, gently caresses your cheek. This time, you lean into his touch, nuzzling your face into his palm, eyes glimmering softly. Despite a cryo wielder, his hand is surprisingly warm.

The man in blue curiously peeks at you, he feels like a feather tickling the itchy spot. Are you plotting an escape route? Since when did you become so obedient? He has never seen the soft fur under the spiky façade you set up to face with the world, but strangely, he likes this version of you more.

Noticing his relaxed stance, you carefully gently wrap your fingers around his wrist while keeping eye contact with him. Kaeya eye widens, startles at your sudden touching. Trying your best to not break the unspoken connection, you bring his hand away from your cheek. In those cerulean eyes, you see a hint of disappointment, but it quickly dissolves. Slowly, you draw closer toward the hand hanging in the air, lips fluttering on the smooth skin on his wrist.

The calvary captain instinctively moves back, trying to escape from your sudden contact. Ironic, he is the one who innates the hug and demands a kiss from you. Tightening your grip, you press your wet lips on the exposed part of his wrist dedicatedly while maintaining eye contact with him, eyes drown with submission.

Kaeya stares at you in awe, maybe not expecting the passionate look in your eyes. His azure eye fills with mischief, now replaces with confusion and hesitation. You notice how his ears have dusted with pink despite the winds blowing in the practice ground. The man avoids your eyes, flustering.

Whispers and gasps start to remind you of the crushing reality, so you let his hand down while grinning cheekily at the cryo wielder. Poking and breaking Kaeya meticulously façade is always something you want to try. The man is a living devil, so it’s extremely unusual to see him losing his composure.

Sneakily, you untangle his other arm wrapping around your waist, plotting an escape route.

However, Barbatos doesn’t let you slip away that easily. Quickly regaining his composure, Kaeya snakes his hand around your hip again, tightening his hold. Unlike the first time, the sneaky bastard lifts you up and has the audacity to throw your body on his shoulder, carry you like a sack.

“ Yah! What are you doing?” You exclaim, fluster at his sudden antic. Kicking and punching on his shoulder, you try as many as you can, but somehow, Kaeya manages to dodge all of them.

“ You said you will let me go when I give you a kiss!” The crowd uproars, stares and gossips poke pointedly at your back. You don’t want to hear those comments from those knights again. They're not going to let this live down, aren't they? Bury your face in the Kaeya's furry collar, you let out a frustrating sigh, punching his shoulder as hard as you can.

“ You give me a kiss on my wrist. That doesn’t count.” Kaeya nonchalantly strides away from the practice ground, unfazed by your attempt to escape. This man is a beast, how can he not budge an inch with all of your kickings on his shoulder?

“ You didn’t specify the place. A kiss is a kiss!” You emphasize, and you can feel his shoulder shaking. Is he laughing? “You didn’t keep your promise.” Fuels by the rising anger, you kick your leg aggressively, struggling to free yourself from the iron-clad grip. This time, his strong arm wraps around your calves like a chain.

As soon as you raise your head up, the familiar pathway hits your memories. Shit, he is heading toward the headquarter, likely to his office. You can’t let anyone in there see you in this state. Punching his back profusely, you shot back.

“Not fulfilling the contract is breaking the Knight of Favonius's code of cond-.” Before you can finish your sentence, the man smacks your calves loudly, successfully shutting your mouth. Speechless by his sudden punishment, you let out a disbelief breath.

“ There are no such a section states about fulfilling contract inside the code of conduct, so stop making the rule up.” Kaeya smugly grins, and you can already picture his blue eyes glinting with mischief, the signature shit-eating grin on his handsome face.

" There is, it's in section eight-" Before you can finish your sentence, Kaeya cuts in, waving his hand dismissively.

" Section eight is about interaction with your co-worker, there is none about keeping contracts." The calvary captain humming, trying to recalling the content of the book. Speechless by the detailed memories of his, you can only close your mouth, quietly waiting for him to drop you down. If you stay still on his shoulder, will he let you go?

" You know, not everyone reads and memories the knight of Favonius handbook, you are just unlucky that I know the book by heart." Seeing you deflate weakly on his shoulder, Kaeya lets out a chuckle, patting your head comforting.

Before heading inside the HQ, the man doesn't drop your down but leans in closely, his whisper tickling your ear. “But at least I had fun seeing you squirming in my grasp.”

And then it hits you, the bastard purposely falls for of your antic.

#kaeya alberich #genshin kaeya #kaeya x reader #no beta we kayak like tim #genshin impact #clarissalance #who has the upper hand ?#argument #fluff #tension #smart reader #strategist #genshin varka #diluc ragnvindr #genshin diluc

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writemywaytoyourheart · 4 years ago

Text

Aim For The Heart | Chapter 1: At First Sight

Pairing: hitman!jk x female reader

Genre: E2L, romance, angst, drama

WC: 4.5k

Warnings for this chapter: alcohol consumption, language, stalking kind of? I think that's all lol. Pls let me know if there is anything else I should put.

tag list; @teresaisla @hopekookies @moonchild1 @barbellastyles98 @ggukkieland @mwitsmejk @yukiehyukie

summary; Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn't sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn't his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger.

Previous › Next

A bright smile graces your features as you tuck the little star-shaped peanut butter and jelly sandwiches into a tiny container, just barely getting two of them to fit as you squish them down a tad bit in order to get the lid clipped on.

Then you grab a little tangerine and a cheese stick to drop into your lunch bag along with the sandwiches, counting the number of items aloud to yourself as they make themselves at home and then you zip it all up.

"Th-There we go!" You lift your lunch for the day in triumph.

Your phone startles you when it starts to ring, then you grapple in your purse to find it. You pull it out and answer right before the last ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey, girl! Are you ready to go? I'm downstairs." The voice of your best friend comes through the phone and you look at the clock on your microwave. You stare at the little black screen, confused as to why the time isn't showing up before remembering that you were never able to figure out how to display the clock when you bought the microwave three years ago. So, you hold your phone out to look at the time.

6:32

"Oh geez! I didn't r-realize the time. I'll be d-down in a minute, k?" You say, earning a lighthearted laugh from the girl on the other end.

"Take your time, hun. I'm not in any rush."

You thank her quickly and hang up, then you run to your room to grab your favorite pink cardigan and throw it on over your white shirt. As you're hurrying out and grabbing your lunch, you stumble and knock your knee into an open lower cabinet that you had forgotten to close the previous night after pulling a pan from it to make dinner.

"Ouch!" You hiss in pain and rub the sore spot, although it does nothing to ease the ache. Then you grab your purse and run outside, almost forgetting to lock the door. But you remember just in time and clumsily lock it before rushing down the stairs leading to the parking lot of your apartment complex.

Your best friend, Mina, is laughing. You can see her through the windshield as she waves to you. Lifting a hand to wave back, you don't realize in time that your arms are full. You drop your lunchbox and have to crouch to get it again, only taking up even more of your time.

But Mina finds it hilarious and tells you so as soon as you slide into the car and fumble with your seatbelt to get it buckled.

"Honestly, ___. I can't believe you're still single. If I wasn't straight as a board, I'd be head over heels for you and all your shenanigans." She states in a matter-of-fact tone as she pulls out of the parking spot.

A blush creeps up your neck and you try to laugh it off, "D-Don't be silly." You whisper, turning your gaze outside to look at the fluffy white clouds decorating the sky beautifully. You smile and lean your forehead against the glass as you imagine lying on a soft cloud, just drifting in the air.

"If you c-could go anywhere at all, where would y-you go?" You ask Mina suddenly, turning to her. Her eyes are focused on the road but she bites her lip in thought at your question. "Mm, probably Italy. What about you?" She's used to your sudden questions and ramblings, so she smiles when you start to go off.

"I'd wanna go up in the c-clouds. I wanna sit on one and maybe even see a r-rainbow up close! I wonder if I could slide down the rainbow..." Your brows furrow in deep thought. "Or would I f-fall?" You turn to her again and she glances over to see your signature puppy dog eyes that you use when you are either confused, upset, or want something.

Mina turns back to the road, a tiny ache in her heart that she hides with a bright smile, "Girl, you would ride that rainbow straight down into a pot of gold!"

"Really?" Your eyes widen and you feel your heart lift at the image.

She nods and you giggle happily, "You can come w-with me, Mina." You say confidently, your gaze turning back to the sky. "We can sleep in the clouds and slide down rainbows for the rest of f-forever."

"Sounds like a deal."

By the time Mina pulls up to the school, you've discussed everything you'd do up in the clouds and what you'd eat when you're hungry (stardust, you've decided, is the best meal anyone could eat.)

You unbuckle and gather your things. Then you remember something and turn back to Mina, "Oh yeah. W-When are you leaving on your business trip?" You ask a tinge of sadness in your voice.

"This weekend," Mina says solemnly. "I'm sorry I won't be able to drive you for a while. I'll be gone for a month this time."

That makes your heart sting but you manage a small smile, "D-Don't worry about me. I can walk! I'm gonna m-miss you though."

"I'll miss you too, buttercup. We'll hang out this Friday night before I leave the next day. How about that?" Mina asks kindly.

You nod enthusiastically and she smiles, "Ok, get your butt in there before you're late! The bell rings in half an hour and you can't be late on a Monday." She urges you and you nod, hopping out of the car and thanking her again for the ride, reassuring her that you'll walk home from work today.

You blow her a kiss and she laughs as you turn and hurry into the school.

You're all set up only a few minutes before the kids are supposed to arrive, so you go onto Pinterest and look through your fairytale boards, feeling a little spark of joy in your chest.

A couple of minutes later, the kids start streaming through the door, greeting you with the same amount of enthusiasm as you greet them. Your kiddos love you so much that all the other teachers are jealous and they let you know it every day. Of course, you have the sweetest kindergarteners and they're always the best for you.

"Hello, Teacher! Good morning Miss ___! Teacher, look at my new haircut!"

"Hi, Jina! Hello M-Minhhyuk! Kun, your new haircut l-looks so good!" All the kids have bright smiles on their faces by the time they've settled in their seats.

You always start the day off by getting everyone to stand and do a few stretches, then you sing the nursery rhymes you learned yesterday and start learning a new one. You honestly have as much fun as the kids during the school day.

"Ok, l-little ducklings, have a seat!" You get their attention and they immediately oblige. Next, is the alphabet that you guys have been working on since the beginning of the year. Every little one sings it perfectly all the way through and you give them a round of applause and they each get a little punch in their reward cards.

The rest of the day goes by smoothly, with only one temper tantrum thrown and that was resolved quickly.

It's nearing the end of the school day and the kids are all playing during their free time. You're sitting with Ae-Cha, a small and fairly quiet girl, playing with colorful blocks; the both of you competing to see who can build the highest tower. You've learned that she responds well to playing games when there isn't too much talking involved.

You're constantly glancing around the room to make sure everyone is safe and playing nicely and you're always pleased. They've all improved so much since the beginning of school back in September. It's June now and they've all learned their alphabet and how to play nicely with their new friends, along with so many other things. They've really made you so proud this year. You can even hear them reciting the alphabet and nursery rhymes to each other as they play.

Your heart warms at the sound of tiny voices filling the room as they sing. Then you glance at the clock and realize the bell will be ringing in a few minutes. So, you declare Ae-Cha the winner with her foot-high tower of blocks and she beams proudly. Then, you get up and clap three times, "One, two, th-three! Eyes on me!" You singsong, then smile when the kids immediately respond by clapping twice and shouting "One, two! Eyes on you!"

"G-Great attention today, everyone! Alright, the bell will ring soon. Who can tell me w-what that means? What are we doing n-now?" A few little hands go up and you point to the little boy that raised his first, "Yes, Joon Woo?"

"We...Uhm...time to clean up toys...Uhm..." You smile to encourage him and he finishes cutely, "Time uh, to clean up our toys and pack bags."

"Yes! Thank you, Joon Woo. It is t-time for us to clean up and make sure our bags are packed up and ready for h-home!"

The kids start to pick up their toys as you put on the cleaning song that you play every day for them. You all sing along until the room is all tidied and their bags are packed with their homework papers.

You always give them little mazes to do for homework to get their little brains to learn to concentrate, along with instructions on what to draw to show the class the next day. Today, their homework is an extremely easy maze, a coloring page with the alphabet and instructions to draw themselves doing their favorite activity. The kids always love drawing pictures and sharing them with the class and it's a good ice breaker for the shy ones at the beginning of the day.

You always have less and easier homework for the kids on Mondays and Fridays, it just seems fair to you that way. You also feel like it's good for kids to express themselves and be able to share what they like and dislike. You've found drawing helps with communication and creativity for the kids in your class.

The sound of the bell ringing makes a few of you jump, then you hurry to the door. "Alright, ducklings! T-Time to line up!" A few of the kids make quacking sounds as they line up, giggling and talking to their friends.

You smile and open up the door, holding it as the kids walk out in a straight line, some of them still quacking like little ducks.

You lead the kids to the front of the school and make sure they get into the correct line for the bus if they take it. You wave goodbye to them as the kids that take the bus climb on and they run to a window to wave back to you.

The rest of the kids that are left are soon picked up by their parents or siblings. You wave to Ae-Cha, the last student to be picked up. She smiles shyly and waves back before hurrying after her big sister.

After that, you go back to your classroom and finish a few things before packing up to go home. As you're leaving your classroom, you run into one of the other teachers coming from his own room.

"Oh, h-hello Mr. B-Baek!" You bow, missing the ugly sneer on his face as you smile brightly at him. He pushes his glasses further up his nose as he scrutinizes you with his beady little eyes. "You don't belong here, Miss ___." He snaps.

You look at him in confusion, "I-I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"I've waited the entire school year to say this to you. But now that we are nearing the end, I think you should know that you have no business being a teacher at this school. You ought to make the right decision to discontinue your work here." Mr. Baek watches your face fall with a sick sense of satisfaction.

"B-But, why?" You ask, still not understanding.

"First of all, you're inexperienced. You just got out of college last year, am I right?"

You nod uncertainly.

"You're still a child. Why should a twenty-two-year-old girl come marching in here and take a spot that should have been given to someone with more experience? And especially someone like you." He glares at you before turning on his heel and walking away briskly.

Someone like me? What does he mean by that?

You watch after him, feeling a tiny pinch in your chest. You aren't sure what he means, but whatever he's talking about, it sounds like he believes you shouldn't have become a teacher at all. At this school or another. You'll have to ask Mina later because you really have no idea where his rant came from.

Is there something wrong with you becoming a teacher?

You shake your head and laugh it off, "He's probably just had a bad day." You tell yourself as you make your way out of the school.

As you walk home, you sing quietly along with the song in your headphones, a little skip to your step.

You never notice the dark figure across the street, his eyes trained on your every move.

One day earlier...

Jungkook groans as he tosses and turns in bed, searching for his phone to turn the alarm off. He finally finds it and hits dismiss, tossing the phone back down and rubbing his eyes with a tired yawn.

After another minute he sits up and looks out the window, frowning at the sun seeping in and pooling across his floor in a golden river. He stares at a small bird that lands on his windowsill until it flies away.

Jungkook yawns again and reaches up to rub his eyes for the second time. After a few minutes, he's finally able to drag himself out of bed and into the shower. He almost falls asleep again in there, but he manages to make it out after half an hour.

With a towel wrapped around his waist, he makes his way to the kitchen and grabs a bottle of soju that's sitting on his tiny dining table to take a small swig from, finishing off what he'd left last night after his third bottle right before he passed out in bed.

He sighs and grabs a bagel, searching for the cream cheese he swears he saw in his fridge last night. A small smile appears on his lips when he finds it. He snatches it and makes sloppy work of spreading it on his bagel before tossing the leftover trash onto his counter and plopping onto the couch, snarfing down the first half of his bagel in thirty seconds.

Jungkook sighs through his nose as he tiredly chews his breakfast, then he glances down and sees the file he'd left open on his coffee table last night. He swallows the bite he has in his mouth and leans forward to read over it.

Y/L/N Y/N...

Why is that name so familiar?

He shakes his head and flips the file closed, then he leans back on the couch, wanting to spend his Sunday relaxing before he has to get to work on this case. He isn't going to think about it again until tonight.

Jungkook settles down and lays his head on the back of the couch, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.

He won't think about it.

Jungkook lays there for a minute, then he opens his eyes and lifts his head, glaring at the closed file on the little table.

He grunts in annoyance and drops the other half of his bagel onto the table, grabbing the file angrily and sitting back again. He opens it and starts to reread everything he's read many times since Friday. There's just something that has felt off since he met with Mr. Ling, but he can't put his finger on what it is.

Jungkook squints at the name he's read a thousand times.

Y/L/N...Y/N...

"Ugh." He rolls his eyes, frustrated at not being able to remember where he's heard that name before. Then he looks at the occupation.

Teacher at Sunshine Kindergarten.

His brows furrow again, much like they have each time he's read this. He's never had a hit on a teacher before, let alone a Kindergarten teacher. That's such an odd target...

Most of his targets in the past have been sleazy business owners, rapists, leaders of gangs that have terrorized neighborhoods for years, even other hitmen. He's never had a problem with those jobs, but there's something about this one that's telling him to be careful.

Maybe it's because he knows nothing about his client, except for the large sum of money he must have due to the pay he's been promised. Other clients of his were more than happy to explain why they wanted him to do what he does. They never paid him until after the job was done, either.

That leads Jungkook to believe that this guy (or girl) is desperate for his services, convincing him to do it with payment before and after. Almost as if Jungkook would refuse after he found out who the target was...

Jungkook flips the page and scrutinizes the picture of the target.

She's very simple looking, Jungkook thinks. The girl in the picture is wearing a white flowy skirt with a blue blouse that covers her whole arms and white chunky tennis shoes. Her hair is in a low ponytail and it seems like she has headphones in as she walks down the street. There's a tiny smile on her face as if she's thinking about something that makes her happy.

Jungkook doesn't find her particularly beautiful, but she isn't ugly either. She's just very...

Simple...

Jungkook shakes his head, his eyes going over the photo and the girl's smile one more time. Maybe she's a double agent? Or a part of the mafia disguising herself as a school teacher?

He can't figure it out.

It doesn't matter much though, the job seems simple enough and the pay is more than he's ever gotten. After looking through everything once more, Jungkook closes the file and grabs his bagel, quickly eating it before getting up to get dressed for the day.

That night, Jungkook lays out his outfit for the next day.

It's all black, but not suspicious-looking. After all these years, he's been able to design the perfect outfits to avoid attention being drawn to him and simple enough so that no one would think much of him if he were to catch anyone's attention.

It might seem simple, but he prides himself on being able to get each part of his job perfectly designed for each case he gets.

Heaven knows it's taken him years to accomplish.

After he's gotten that all figured out, he walks over to his closet and pulls out a small safe. Setting it on the bed, he swiftly unlocks it and looks inside. He pulls out a few things, examining each of them before he sets them one by one onto his bed. Once he's got the items all laid out, he steps back to look it all over.

"I should wait to decide..." Jungkook mumbles to himself. After a minute of staring at everything, he nods and gathers it all up, carefully putting it back into the safe and locking it tightly. Then he brings it back to his closet and shoves it into the darkest corner where it lives.

That can wait.

He pulls his phone out and checks the time.

11:45

"Damn it," Jungkook mutters. He had wanted to get some sleep earlier tonight since he would have to be awake early tomorrow.

He changes into some shorts, then he yanks his shirt off and immediately climbs into bed, not even bothering to shower or brush his teeth. He really couldn't care less with how tired he is. And he hasn't even started yet.

His alarm blares at an ungodly hour as Jungkook groans loudly, resisting the temptation to chuck his phone across the room.

"I hate Mondays." He mutters angrily, setting his phone back on the nightstand far from gracefully.

He miserably drags himself out of bed and into the shower, going through his morning motions almost like a robot. His brain isn't fully awake and it's just on autopilot right now.

An hour later, he's just finishing his coffee, his eyes no longer squinting in exhaustion. Jungkook unceremoniously drops his coffee cup into the sink, promising himself he'll clean it up later, then he sighs as he grabs his black boots, walking to the couch to sit and pull them on. After he's done lacing them up, he grabs the file he's been avoiding like the plague since yesterday morning.

He mutters to himself, looking at the name on the page.

"I know that name."

Then he smacks his forehead to get himself to focus again. He stands up and folds the page with the girl's information and then her picture and tucks them into the inside pocket of his black jacket.

Time to get to work.

Jungkook spots the girl almost instantly, the second she steps out of a black car. He glances at the driver, but can only see a person with shoulder length black hair waving. The girl from the picture has a bunch of things in her arms as she blows a kiss to the short-haired driver.

Jungkook has been here since six-thirty in the morning and just as he was beginning to think she called in sick for work, he's finally gotten a chance to see this girl in person. She looks exactly as he remembers from her picture...plain.

She's even wearing the same white skirt and chunky tennis shoes, although this time she has a different top. Her hair is in a high ponytail this time.

"Well, ___. Nice to meet you." Jungkook mutters, watching closely.

After a moment, the black car drives away as the girl scurries into the school, tripping on the last step before straightening herself out again, then disappearing from his sight.

Huh.

Jungkook stares at the door for another minute, then he makes his way to the stores nearby, knowing he's gonna have to wait until the girl leaves. School for the young kids typically gets out at around three-thirty. So, he'll have to be back here around then.

He's definitely going to need to find something to do to kill time.

Jungkook heaves a sigh of relief when he hears the school bell finally ring.

He hurries from the clothes store he was browsing and down the street a block until he's almost across the street from the school. He finds a good spot where he can sift through some newspapers at a little stand and still have an eye on the school.

After a minute, he sees a long line of tiny children coming out from the school. The girl is with them and smiling brightly. Jungkook thinks he can hear some of the kids quacking like ducks. He tries not to look puzzled as he goes back to talking to the person working the paper stand. Jungkook makes small talk with the old man, still keeping an eye on the girl across the street as she waves to each child that leaves.

If she's some mafia boss disguised as a kindergarten teacher, she's one hell of a good actress.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" The old man inquires curiously.

Jungkook laughs softly and shakes his head, "No. I've been so busy with my work I never got the chance to date."

The man nods knowingly. They chat a bit more and Jungkook finds himself trying to balance talking to the man and watching the girl.

"Well, did you want to buy a paper for the day?"

Jungkook turns his gaze back to the old man and nods, "Yes. Two, please. My neighbor would probably enjoy one as well."

The old man laughs and nods, taking the money Jungkook hands him and giving him two papers, "What a kind young man you are. Someday you'll find a lovely young lady, don't you worry, son. You will realize that work is important, but love is even more so."

Jungkook just laughs and thanks the man, then he opens the paper as he slowly starts walking, pretending to read.

He stops at a bench and sits down to wait. The girl went back into the school a few minutes ago, hopefully, she won't be in there long.

Luck seems to be with him today, because, after only about five minutes, Jungkook sees a familiar white skirt flowing as she skips down the steps of the school.

He folds his paper carefully, tucking it into his back pocket. The girl puts little earbuds in and immediately starts to mouth the words of whatever song she's listening to. Jungkook tugs his black baseball cap down a little more as he follows on the other side of the street.

The girl has a bag decorated with cupcakes and cookies that bounces up and down as she dances a little.

What is she, twelve?

Jungkook watches in confusion as the girl stops to pet a dog, giggling when the puppy licks her hand. She straightens up, then after another minute, she seems to get distracted by something else.

Jungkook looks carefully and notices she's picked up a flower that was laying on the ground, seemingly trampled on. She gently holds it in her hands as she continues on her way. It goes on like this for the next fifteen minutes, the girl waving to people and smiling almost the whole way.

By the time she is walking up the steps to her apartment, Jungkook is dying to just get back home. That must have been the longest most annoying walk he's ever taken while tracking someone. The girl had stopped over twenty times, distracted by something else each time, he's sure of it.

Just to be sure, Jungkook lingers around the apartment building a little longer, but when it seems apparent that the girl is going to be staying there, he finally heads home.

Geez, Jungkook thinks in annoyance as he climbs the stairs that lead to his own apartment. His head is spinning with so many questions while he unlocks his door and yanks his boots off with a groan.

But when he plops down onto his bed in his tiny studio apartment, he just stares at the ceiling, his mind suddenly blank apart from one question.

Who in the hell would put a hit on this girl?

a/n: I hope you guys are liking the setup so far, thank you for all the positive reactions from the prologue!

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