#Olympic imagine

[averagewriter-inthedark]

You Got It Bad 🏸 | Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd Headcanon

Edit posted on 2 Sep 24: omg when I posted this a few days ago America had yet to win a medal in badminton (Olympic & Paralympic) and today Team USA’s mixed doubles in badminton won the silver medal!! Congrats to Jayci Simon & Miles Krajewski for their win and making history!! The first ever medal in badminton for USA!!

Being married to Bob & becoming Olympians for the sport of Badminton would look like:

You and Bob met in flight school following your respected commissions into the Navy in 2011, became friends and colleagues, which them bloomed into lovers about a year later. You were the pilot, and he was your back seater---so it is no surprise your relationship worked so well considering you two were partners in the sky. After about two years of dating, Bob popped the famous question and you guys were wed within the year--the Navy sending you guys to bases as a package deal.

As most military instillations, there's a community gym and recreation center where active, reserve, and their families go to participate in intermural sports and activities. Many go for the typical bowling league and softball team or try a hand at flag football and ultimate. For you and Bob, badminton called yall's name.

Originating in British India and popular among countries in Europe and Asia, badminton made its Olympic debut in 1992 in Barcelona, Spain. Now while at first glance badminton may look easy in comparison to other court sports with a net like tennis and volleyball, but badminton requires just as much speed, agility, and precision. Especially when the shuttlecock is flying at record speed from one opponent to the other. The better the motor skills, the better you are.

Of course in the beginning you guys were a little rusty. Figuring out the rules and the best way for you and Bob to coordinate moves. You were the better server, but Bob was better handling the back while you stayed close to the net.

What started as a fun, leisure activity became more serious as you continued to play. Like we're talking you put up a net in your backyard. Whenever you hosted gatherings, you can expect that at some point in the night people migrated to the backyard to play a game or two. And boy would it get intense whenever you and Bob were on opposite sides of the court. "I hope you enjoy losing, pretty boy." "Darling, I know you're always right....but tonight you are wrong."

Not only did you build a sweat when a game got intense, but you looked forward to spending time with your husband outside of work. Not having to deal with the stress of flying or anxiety of running missions. Badminton was a great way to relive the tension and stay active. After every game you shared a sweet kiss with your husband, exchanging praises of 'Great job,' and 'We'll get 'em next time."

You both were competitive and roughly a year after playing you drew attention when you decided to join a local circuit outside of intermural on base. Winning match after match, you guys came in second in your first tournament. A great introduction to the start of your athletic career in mixed doubles badminton---which by the way, shoutout to RedBull and Dunkin Doughnuts for the caffeine supply when balancing a military and sports career.

Now the Olympic Games....the greatest sporting stage the world has ever scene...was never something you envisioned when you and Bob picked up your rackets for the first time. You'd only been playing badminton for a few years, having started in 2014. By the time the Rio Games came around, you guys were no way in Olympic level standings. Sure you'd been in a handful of local tournaments, making the podium in all, but you'd only recently won your regional title for mixed doubles, set to compete in nationals. You had yet to play an international tournament.

That time would come in 2017, and while you came home with third place at you guys were motivated to do better. You wanted to win a World title. Especially to prove to people who thought badminton was not a sport of high popularity like tennis or volleyball--and something you only play as a unit in high school P.E. You and Bob were motivated to bring more eyes to badminton in America. And what better way than to dominate a world tour.

So, when you guys weren't in the sky you were on the court. In the gym. Coaching each other, studying competition, working on technique, rewatching matches from previous Olympics. The Tokyo Games became a goal. And you were determined to make them. The pressure was on considering the United States has never won a medal in any event in badminton. "So, the Olympics...pretty darn big if you ask me." "Baby, you should know that when we put our mind to something, we make it happen."

It got to the point where your family members and friends were asking y'all about progress and even buying you equipment as birthday presents. And with the amount of shuttlecocks you go through monthly it was a blessing to a whole bucket of them in your garage. Your rackets had y'alls callsign's on them and of course you had matching outfits. And soon you guys had to invest in a nice cabinet to display your medals, plaques, and trophies from your competitions. Having the 2018 BWF World Championship right in the center.

You and Bob became a household name in the sport in the American circuit. Not only because you two were dominated the competition, but also the fact you guys were married and Naval officers brought a lot of attention. People who followed the sport became fans and viewed you guys as a love story out of romance books. Friends/coworkers-to-lovers who become teammates and an unstoppable duo in their sport. Yeah, it wrote itself.

When the 2019 detachment came though that became the priority. As much as it pained you to put training for the Sudirman Cup on hold, you had an obligation to the Navy. Nonetheless, you packed up your equipment and made the drive down from Lemoore to San Diego. Once settled, you both were spending any free time at the base rec center, practicing even for 30 minutes if you had it.

Soon the rest of the team picked up your love for the sport and became intrigued. Natasha especially, who became invested in watching you two play against each other. Shocked to see how heated it got and the fact you were able to move so fast to save a rally. "You guys are really into this, huh?" "Yeah. We just started for fun years ago and well..it took off."

After the whole shit between Jake and Bradley where Mav did damage control by taking y'all to the beach for dogfight football, you and Bob whipped out the equipment and soon all 12 of ya paired up to play games. It pretty much turned into a bracket situation where duos were eliminated until two remained for the final round.

And who's suprised....you and Bob won. And because you guys were so good, the team practically interrogated you two to which the reveal of your side career surfaced.

"You mean to tell me," Jake squinted against the sun, "You two are pretty much famous badminton players and are on the road to making the Olympics next year?" "Yep, that's about right. We want to be the first Americans to win a medal in the sport."

Fast forward to the success of the Uranium mission and unexpected world pandemic that followed, you and Bob are homebound due to the Navy restricting all work to remote settings, leaving you all the time in the world to perfect your craft. You won the Sudirman Cup, putting your names once more as contenders for the Tokyo Games and had one more year to train due to the postponement. In that time you and the rest of the Top Gun detachment transferred to Fightertown permanently, further bonding the friendships formed and the team became y'alls biggest supporters.

Qualifying for the Olympics had to have ranked in your top three moments in life. Right in the middle between marrying Bob and the Uranium mission. You jumped in his arms, screaming in joy while he spun you around and let the tears flow, bringing his lips for a passionate kiss not caring who watched. Never had you thought picking up a random badminton racket to pass time and relieve stress after a long work day would lead you to competing in the greatest sporting event alongside the love of your life. Experiencing it with Bob made it all the better. "We're going to the Olympics, baby!!'

Stepping onto the court in Tokyo officially titled you and Bob as Olympians, and while you competed for the gold across the pacific, back home your friends and family gathered to watch it unfold decked in red, white, and blue. The Hard Deck, your hometown, Bob's hometown, the rec center back in Lemoore where you first began playing badminton, the entire damn Navy was cheering you on.

Goal #1: Become Olympians - Achieved. Goal #2: Become the 1st Americans to win a medal in badminton - Achieved. Goal #3: Become the 1st Americans to win a gold medal in badminton - Achieved.

Yeah, you read that right. Not only did you and Bob accomplish everything you set your eyes on, but you cemented yourself in history as the first Americans to win a medal in any event in the sport of badminton and it was the gold. You guys became Olympic champions. And you can best believe the whole world was shocked to their core during the intense, heart pounding, sweat inducing, on the edge of your seat gold medal match against the #1 team in the world. You had already proven yourself to be the team to watch out for after knocking out the other leading pairs in the quarter and semi-finals, but to walk away with the gold after losing the first match, winning the second and tying the score each time until it ended with you scoring the golden point of 30.

Put it in the history books.

And three years later in a sold out crowd with your friend and family in the city of love, you and Bob continued your romantic journey of love, dedication and partnership when you defended your gold medal, adding a second to your cabinet with the promise of a third when the Games return to the Los Angeles 😉

[rhaenella]

[ayo-edebiri]

What a time to be alive

[moonstruckme]

Thawing Out

summary: You and Sirius are in dire need of a new coach just weeks before the Olympics. Remus is a former figure skating prodigy forced to retire after a career-ending injury. Though it's not smooth skating right away, those stiff Olympic village beds are dying to be broken in.

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16

cw: modern au, chronic pain

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Remus still wakes before dark every morning. It’s automatic, an urgency and excitement that thrums through him like an old instinct, born from years of his alarm clock rousing him at this time. The rink is always at its best right now, when they’ve just finished resurfacing the ice and no one else is around. It was Remus’ favorite time to practice. 

Now, he has a new reason to get up. His hip clicks as he does it, so he starts his day with a couple of proactive painkillers. If he really wanted to be proactive he would stretch like he’s supposed to, but there’s no time and Remus doesn’t feel like it. He’ll pay his toll for the negligence later. 

The webpage of his Airbnb boasted a five-minute walk to the rink, but with his hip it takes Remus seven. It’s like an odd sort of muscle memory, an old routine from another life that feels as bitter as it does comfortable. He heads out early to give himself some cushion. The streets are empty but for bakers and baristas, the first hints of dawn tinging the sky a deep blue. When he turns a corner and the rink comes into view, the absence of his bag hanging from his shoulder is a phantom ache. 

The front doors are locked but the side one staff uses isn’t, the Zamboni driver already inside. Remus lets himself in, makes a cup of tea from the hot water dispenser they leave out when concessions are closed, plants himself on a bench, and waits. 

And waits. 

And waits. 

Remus has nearly nodded off when two pairs of shoes come bounding up to him. Well, one pair bounds. The other drags. 

“Hi, sorry we’re late.” You’re breathless and hauling a sullen-looking boy along behind you by the hand, but you manage a smile when Remus looks up at you. “I had to run over and get him out of bed. It’s good to meet you!”

You hold out your untethered hand. Remus might normally stand to take it, but he no longer feels like doing you the courtesy. Your grip is firm and warm. 

“You were supposed to be here at six,” he says. 

You wince. “I know. Sorry, Sirius is really not a morning person.” 

Remus thinks that he might put more stock into your apologies if you looked a tad more contrite. As it is, your countenance is almost cheery, a fizzy eagerness about you as you look between him and the ice like you can’t wait to get out on it. 

In stark contrast, the ill-tempered boy behind you seems not to have a clue where he is. He looks rumpled and disoriented, squinting in the rink’s fluorescent light. 

“Then why didn’t you pick another time?” Remus asks. 

He hadn’t realized he was still looking at Sirius, or that the other boy could talk, so it’s a surprise when he answers. “Wasn’t my bloody idea.” 

By the way you grin, Remus wonders if you’ve even heard the obvious bitterness in your partner’s tone, or whether it’s gone straight over your head. 

“I like the rink better early,” you explain. “No one else ever comes before the hockey practice starts at nine, and they’ll have just finished resurfacing the ice.” 

Begrudgingly, Remus nods. “I always preferred it about now, too.” 

He realizes immediately that his agreement was a mistake, because your smile grows into something far too brilliant for the early hour. Christ, what has he gotten himself into? There’s you, starry-eyed and effervescing all over the place, and your partner, who looks more inclined to fall asleep on your shoulder than put on his skates. 

And this is the pair skating duo Remus is supposed to take to the Olympics. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Watch that back foot!” Remus shouts across the ice.

Sirius doesn’t look happy about it, but he corrects the placement of his skate, transitioning smoothly into the next synced turn. 

“Good,” Remus murmurs to himself. 

Once Sirius got out on the ice and woke up a bit, he was good. He skates with the technical proficiency of someone who’s been in the sport since before they started primary school, and the intuitive artistry of someone who loves it. You’re much the same, though your virtuosity and obvious competence are consistently undercut by hesitation, the grace of your movements interrupted when you second-guess yourself. But these—technical prowess paired with devotion—are the basics of what makes a good figure skater. You’ll have to be flawless if you want to do well at the Olympics. 

And Remus has found many flaws. 

“No, no—shit!” Remus stands as you fall out of your jump again, catching yourself on your forearms. “You’re still under-rotating! Come on!” 

Sirius snarls a quick “Hey!” over his shoulder before turning his back on Remus, going to help you up. He speaks to you quietly, checking you over as you stand. Remus seethes. 

He has no clue why he’s been called out here to coach a pair. Remus doesn’t know pairs, has never been a part of one. He was a solo skater. And frankly, it makes him wary that what’s supposed to be the best skating pair in Britain has asked him, a former solo skater who’s been isolated from the figure skating community in general for the past two years, to coach them. But Remus does know figure skating. And he knows when skaters are making stupid mistakes behind their skill level. 

“What aren’t you understanding?” asks Remus as you skate back to the edge of the rink. He really wants to know. “It’s simple. You can do this.” He knows he could have. As easy as breathing, and he would kill to have the chance again. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” 

Sirius’ glare is sharp as knives. He steps off the ice before you can, positioning himself between you and Remus. Your lips purse with a knowing sort of apprehension. 

“Sirius…” 

“No, you don’t talk to her like that,” Sirius spits. “It was a tiny mistake.” 

Remus raises his eyebrows, incredulous. “I’m trying to help her! It was a giant mistake, with a simple fix. You ought to be telling her the same, unless you’re okay with your partner snapping her ankle weeks out from competition.” 

“None of that means you get to fucking yell at her! Who do you think you are?” 

“Okay—” 

“I’m her coach,” says Remus, voice rising, “and—”

“Then coach her! Maybe if you’d give some actual fucking feedback instead of just nitpicking—” 

“Okay!” Your shout cuts through the space, echoing in the empty rink and silencing the other two. “That’s enough.” 

You haul Sirius back by his shoulder. Your grip doesn’t look severe enough to move him, but he goes, stepping back to your side. His eyes never leave Remus’. 

Your own gaze jumps between both boys, that same spark he’d seen in you earlier burning with a different light. 

“Let’s call it for today,” you say firmly. “Okay? We’ll try again tomorrow.” 

Neither boy speaks, though Remus nods. It seems to be taking all of Sirius’ willpower to bite his tongue. He gets the impression it isn’t something he succeeds at often, so Remus isn’t ashamed to say that it brings him a perverse sort of joy to see it now. His tiny bit of smugness fizzles out, though, when your eyes land on him. There’s something desolate in your expression that’s a salient deviation from how you’d looked at him before. Remus has the sinking feeling that he’s disappointed you. It’s more distressing than he can account for. 

“We’ll be here on time tomorrow,” you say in that same steady tone. “And my jump, I’ll work on it.” 

Remus nods again. You return it, and when you turn to leave, you drag Sirius after you by his shirtsleeve, picking up your bags along your way. Remus’ mouth feels dry. His lips are chapped, his fingertips hurt from the cold, and the sight of your skates sinking into the rubbery floor makes his hip ache terribly. 

It’s only once you’re nearly out of earshot that he manages to mumble, “Thank you.”

[babyleostuff]

── OLYMPICS MASTERLIST

[🌊] DISCIPLINE: SWIMMING

PAIRING: swimmer!mingyu x swimmer!fem reader GENRE: fluff, friends to lovers(ish), idiots that doesn't realise the other one is in love with them too, mingyu is a tease but also down bad WARNINGS: the reader gets hurt (hits her head, nothing too descriptive), mingyu is a hottie WORD COUNT: 3k

SYNOPSIS: what will it take for you and mingyu to finally understand that you're literally meant to be?

natalia's note: @wonijinjin the broad back and bulging biceps are for you

“i can’t do this anymore.” 

mingyu's words hit you like a speeding train. 

you quickly lifted your head from where you were looking at your fingers splashing the water, facing your best friend. 

“w-what?” you asked, horrified. “what do you mean?” 

his shoulders dropped, causing the water to ripple around your bodies, and you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you wouldn’t like what he was about to say next. 

“i can’t do this anymore. i can’t watch you lose again and again,” he sighed, and dived under the red lane line, emerging a second later right next to you. “it’s,” he took a breath, “heartbreaking.” 

with how close he was to you now you didn’t have a choice but to look up, which was stupid because come on - you were in the water. a wole ass swimming pool. like, he could literally submerge himself a little bit more and you’d be eye level, but no. kim mingyu had to flash everyone in the damn room with his godly sculptured chest and shoulders. 

you mentally scolded yourself for losing the last ounces of your dignity over a man, because why was it so hard for you to peel your eyes off his pecs? and a quiet voice inside your head was telling you that mingyu didn’t do this by accident - he knew how it affected you. but it shouldn’t. you were best friends after all. 

and best friends didn’t look at each other’s chests. and wide shoulders. and bulging biceps. 

“then stop being such a bitch, kim mingyu,” you cleared your throat, suddenly very interested in the purple “paris 2024” banners over his head. “if it’s breaking your heart then that’s your problem, not mine.”  

mingyu rolled his eyes, and quickly lifted his hand to splash water at you, making you shriek. what a shame god didn’t bless you with quicker reflexes, so you could cover your eyes at least. it was funny how people used to tell your coach that it would be for the best to split your training sessions because you didn’t get on well with each other, while in reality you got on well a bit too much. 

“uh, excuse moi?” you cringed at his horrible attempt to speak french, “you’re calling the three time world champion and two time olympic gold medalist a bitch?” he put his hand over his heart. 

“then why don’t you want to race with me anymore?” you practically whined. “are you afraid of getting beaten by a girl? would that do damage to your reputation in the olympic village?” you giggled at his unamused stare. “i’m sure the gymnasts would be very disappointed to find out you’re not as big and strong as they thought,” you pouted at him, mockingly. 

“i told you baby, i don’t want to see you lose again, simple as that” mingyu put his hand on your shoulder. “can’t you race against ava or liv?” 

you weren’t sure if it was better to go underwater or to call for the medics at this point. this infuriatingly hot man just called you baby for god’s sake and he had his hand placed so close to your neck it felt as if he was cradling it. luckly you could blame the cold water for your shivering. the worst part - you were 99% sure you saw him make out with alexa before going to paris, so all of the sweet words and gentle touches were platonic. 

they meant nothing. 

which… were you even surprised? the hottest guy making out with the hottest girl on the team. both multiple champions. both insanely talented. 

still, you wouldn’t give up, and that definitely wasn’t because of your delusions that you could pull the hottest and the best swimmer on the continent, but because you didn’t want to lose your best friend.

“you’re not fooling me, kim mingyu. i think you’re just scared of me beating you.” 

he scoffed, and finally lowered himself into the water. thank heavens. “okay then. what do you say about one last race to finish this training off?” mingyu said, and sent you a challenging look, which he knew would rile you up even more. 

“deal,” you shook his extended hand. “but don’t come crying to me when you lose.” 

“as you wish, my queen,” he bowed his head, and snickered. “but-,” 

“no buts,” you cut him off. 

“ah, ah,” he pointed a finger at you. “if you lose you have to take a bath in the seine.” 

sometimes you wondered why exactly you had a crush on him because stuff like these reminded you he was only a man. more like a man-child, but that was if you wanted to be nitpicky. 

“that’s illegal, you moron.” 

you swore you’d drown him one of these days.

with the goggles over your eyes you swam under the lane line to have a whole lane for yourself, because there was no way you’d fit in one lane with mingyu. 

“okay champ, let’s see-,” suddenly you felt a tap on your shoulder. 

“je suis désolé, mais tu dois sortir de l'eau. les préparatifs pour la course vont bientôt commencer,” one of the volunteers was crouching by the edge of the pool with his hand outstretched in your direction. 

“uh,” you shot mingyu a quick look, “i’m sorry, je ne comprends pas.” i don’t understand. the only french you managed to learn before coming to paris, which you figured would come in handy, and as it turned out - it did. a point for you. 

“the competition,” the guy scratched the back of his neck, clearly trying to find the right words. “begin soon.” 

“do you want us to get out of the pool?” mingyu asked, pointing at him and you and then the outside of the pool. 

“yes, yes,” the volunteer nodded quickly. 

well, you could wave your race bye bye. 

maybe the universe didn’t want you and mingyu together, maybe all you were destined to be was friends? besides, one silly race wouldn’t make a difference, if anything, it would probably lead to you pulling a muscle, which would mean a big disaster with your eliminations right around the corner. 

your fate was to end up alone for the rest of your life, crying over a guy you could never have. typical. 

“shit,” mingyu sighed, taking off his goggles. “i really wanted to race you.” 

you sent him a quick smile, dismissing his teasing tone. the quicker you’d realise this wouldn’t work out the better for your poor heart. 

“yeah, that’s a bummer,” you said, grabbing onto the edge of the pool to pull yourself up. 

mingyu grinded his teeth and side eyed the volunteer. if it weren't for the dozens of people around you who were clearly starting to prepare for the race, he would have thrown the guy into the water with his own bare hands. 

“thanks for being a cockblock, dude.”

well, not literally, but this had to be the first time mingyu managed to talk to you without stuttering every other word and not acting that embarrassing. but no. someone had to sweep in and take this away from him. 

“be careful,” mingyu ran a hand over his face, and looked over to you, “the tiles might be slippery.” 

“you don’t say,” you said, and shot him a glare. “im not that-.” 

but before you could finish your sentence one of your hands slipped and you lost the grip, splashing back into the pool. 

“hey, hey,” mingyu immediately swam up to you, closing the gap between your bodies in seconds. “are you okay?” he put his arm around your waist, turning you around in his grip so you’d face him. 

shit.

“did you hit your head?” he asked quickly, taking off your cap. fuck, mingyu felt his lunch creeping back into his throat. if anything happened to you… 

“mhm, i think so,” you answered, disoriented. your vision was clearly unsteady and you were shaking in his embrace, though he didn’t know if that was due to the cold water or the hit. 

“fuck,” he muttered, running his hand gently over your head to look for any cuts or bruises. “we need to get you out of the water.” 

you nodded your head slowly, but that was a bad call, because it only made you more nauseous and made your vision even worse. 

“hey, don’t move. put your other arm around my neck and hold onto me,” mingyu said. 

“but i’m heavy.” 

“shut it or i’ll leave you here,” mingyu grumbled, and tightened his hold around you. 

with ease, as if he was born in the water, mingyu managed to get you to the edge of the pool with ladders, and called for help.

“i’m such a loser,” you mumbled, resting your head against his shoulder. “almost passing out in the middle of an olympic swimming pool,” you let out a bitter laugh, before whimpering. maybe making bad jokes right after almost cracking your skull open wasn’t a good idea. 

mingyu didn’t say anything but you could feel his body tense. 

“she hit her head on the tiles,” he said once the medics made their way over to you. 

they quickly helped him get you out of the water without causing you more pain and laid you on the stretcher. the medics whispered something between them, or maybe you were just so out of it that you couldn’t understand what they were saying, but you could clearly make out mingyu’s voice in between. 

suddenly, you felt as if you were being lifted off the ground, but your blurry vision made it impossible for you to see what exactly was going on. 

“min-mingyu?” you called out. 

“i’m here baby, don’t worry,” mingyu said, and reached for your hand, grasping it tightly so you’d know he was really right there next to you. 

“stop calling me that,” you said, your tone bossy as usual. 

“stop calling you what?” mingyu couldn’t help but giggle when he heard you scoff. good, that meant you weren’t that badly hurt. 

“baby.” 

“what if i don’t want to?” he asked, and ran a thumb over the back of your hand, smiling to himself when he felt your fingers wrap tighter around his.  

you shook your head, or at least you tried to. “then i’ll race you and if i win you’ll stop.” 

“you know i won’t let that happen,” he said softly. 

“stop messing with my heart, kim mingyu.” 

a champion, an olympics medalist, a man made of steel, and still, mingyu felt like he was melting under your gaze. your big eyes looking up at him, your soft lips parted in a slight gasp, your gentle fingers holding onto him for dear life…  

“i won’t,” he shook his head. “not until you stop messing with mine.” 

as it turned out, luckily for you, the impact didn’t cause much damage. “it caused panic more than anything else,” the doctor said. 

“so i’ll be able to race on monday, right?” you asked, twisting the rings around your fingers nervously. the olympics were something you sacrificed your whole life for - you couldn’t remember the last time you slept in, the last time you ate dinner with your family, the last time you had time for yourself, and if all of that would go to waste because of a stupid mistake… you didn’t know what you’d do. 

“don’t worry, you’ll be just fine for the race. i think your boyfriend overreacted a bit out there,” the doctor laughed. “maybe more than a bit.” 

you almost choked on the pills you were swallowing, your face burning with heat. the doctor feeding into your delusions was a big no no, and you definitely did not need that right now. 

“you might want to text him though, he was sitting outside the whole time we were running tests. had to send him back to the village,” he sighed, “he looked like a kicked puppy.” 

that was dangerous, and you needed to get out of there quickly. 

mingyu, on the other hand, couldn’t stop worrying. after the doctor sent him off, he didn’t really know what to do with himself, and he definitely didn’t know how he ended up sitting in front of the door to your room. 

god, he was being so pathetic. instead of telling you how and what he felt, he was acting like a lame highschooler trying to impress you with what? being a faster swimmer? mingyu was never good at flirting but this had to be his lowest low. 

„gyu? what are you doing here?” his head shot up, and there you were - safe and sound. no bandages, nothing. for the first time since he got out of that damn swimming pool he took in a deep, proper breath. 

“the doctor he, um…,” 

“i know.” 

“you know?”

“i know,” you nodded. why did he look so nervous all of a sudden? “shouldn’t you be at the gym? preparing for tomorrow?” 

right. the race. 

“i probably should,” more than “probably” to be honest. your trainer would most likely have killed him already if not for the fact that he was the best swimmer on the team. “but i needed to know that you were okay.” 

“you could’ve just texted, you know,” you said. why was he being so… un-mingyu?

he shook his head, and stood up to his full 6 feet 2. “let me put it this way,” he took a step towards you, “i needed to see if you were okay.”

was he really about to risk your whole friendship? all this time spent on getting to know you, your likes and dislikes, what annoyed you and how he could push your buttons to see that bright smile on your face that always made his day a bit better. he didn’t want to lose all of that. 

but… mingyu felt his hands reaching out for you on their own to make sure that you weren’t in pain anymore, to kiss any bump or scratch to make it better, to hold you close to his chest this evening and keep you safe from all the wet tiles. 

“listen,” he scratched the back of his neck. he needed to do something with his hands. “i have to tell you one thing, and please just let me say it because i don’t think i’ll have enough courage to say it ever again.” 

you nodded your head, your gaze slightly confused. 

it was now or never. 

“okay, so i know we’re technically only friends from work, but not really since we hang out otherwise, and we’ve known each other for how long now? three years? and that’s great, i love training with you, and going to competitions with you, and hanging out with you, but lately… or not lately, really. for a long time-,” 

„mingyu,” you sighed, but the boy kept on rambling. „min,” you tried again, to no avail. „gyu!” 

finally, the man in front of you fell silent, looking at you with eyes wide and mouth agape. 

“i,” you took a deep breath. you knew exactly where this was going. „i can’t do this right now,” you said, and watched the spark in mingyu’s eyes die out. “with what happened today, and the eliminations tomorrow… i just can’t deal with this right now,” god, this broke your heart. “i need some rest, and i need some sleep,” you added. “besides, i also have the relay tomorrow, so i need to focus. this is not only about me, but about the girls. i can’t let them down.”   

mingyu’s heart dropped. if he knew this would end like this, then why was he feeling so disappointed? but he couldn’t be mad at you, no. it wasn’t your fault you weren’t feeling the same, and it definitely wasn’t your fault for wanting some rest. the olympics meant so much to you, and he knew how excited you were for them - he wouldn’t take that happiness away from you. 

„of-of course,” mingyu said, though his voice, his body language, his gaze - his everything, screamed anything but „of course”. he nodded his head and shrugged. „i’ll see you later then.”

you quickly grabbed his arm before he could turn around. „gyu,” you said. „i can’t deal with this now, but i never said i couldn’t deal with this ever.” 

he was so cute, you couldn’t help but hide your smile behind your hand. with slightly dishevelled hair (probably from running his fingers through them too much), un-matching shirt and pants, which you were sure were from last season, and his mingyu smile that showed off his canines… you’d have to be stupid and blind not to have a massive crush on this man. 

„r-really?” 

you nodded your head.

“maybe we can talk about this tomorrow?” you said, and slid your hand down his arm to his hand. “after the eliminations?” 

mingyu looked down wide-eyed at your hand holding his. was this really happening? maybe he was the one to hit his head? his poor heart and fuzzy brain couldn’t actually believe that the girl he had been pining after for god knows how long was actually saying that… that she liked him back? huh, if this was a dream he hoped he’d never wake up. 

“yes,” he breathed. “we can do that.” 

“great,” you smiled, and mingyu felt his heart skip a beat. “you’ll be watching me tomorrow, right?”

“you know i will,” mingyu said, squeezing your hand, and this - your hand in his - this felt right. this was right, and this was how it was always supposed to be. “i always do.” 

and then he did something that almost knocked you off your feet. 

he quickly closed the gap between you, pushing your body gently against the door behind you, and placed a soft peck on your cheek. you almost didn’t notice how his strong arm had snuck around you, holding your waist in a featherlight touch that didn’t quite match his strong hands and big biceps, or how the other one cradled the side of your face, and how his thumb stroked your cheek. almost.

and it was only a kiss on the cheek. 

“good luck, baby.”

[clawsdevour]

victory reward

wc: 2.1k content warning: post-time skip, established relationship, ushijima x reader, smut, hinting towards a sex marathon, mention of semen retention, size kink, cream pie, not proofread

び˚ˎ 。

The final sound of the spike that your husband, Ushijima Wakatoshi, landed on the volleyball court secured the win for Japan in the Paris Olympics volleyball game. The cheering after Japan’s winning still rang in your ears when you left to go backstage in order to meet with Ushijima when he step foot off the blazing court.

“Toshi!! Right here!” Screaming against all of the sounds that resonated in the crowded hallway to get his attention. His stone cold eyes meet yours and softened immediately when he made his way to your direction. The closer he stepped towards you, his warm welcoming arms opened for a big hug despite being drenched in sweat.

“Hey love, did you watch me play all day?” Falling into his strong arms that held you closer to him, a faint smile spreading on his lips as you nod into his chest. The crowds’ are walking around you two while you quickly chatted in place about the match that just finished.

Leaving the big and roaring venue, the cold air hits your face once you step foot outside. Your arm clings with his for warmth, walking alongside him trying to not get caught up with the other people who strolled by. You’re praising him for his skills and the last strike he landed on court that brought Japan to it’s next match in the Olympics. He’s smiling to himself, content with the victory and the fact he now knows that you came and watched him play the whole time.

“When we get back to our hotel, are you gonna reward me?” Ushijima peers down to see your awestruck face frozen in surprise due to his silly attempt at hinting you two to do something suggestive. Ushijima’s not the type to ask for intercourse often, you’d have to pounce on him and have a whole build up to get to the tip of it because of how stern and naive he could be. Not to mention, his busy schedule to keep his volleyball skills and physique in check.

“Haha, Toshi would you even take my reward if I gave it to you?” Giggling to play with him a bit, half serious. He’s putting back on his game face as his piercing eyes scream out a simple Yes which was all you needed to know. He was serious, he must’ve been waiting for a long time to be buried in you once more.

The moment you enter and close your hotel door was the moment where his big silhouette carried and dropped you onto the springy and plush king sized bed. Ushijima’s hands are placed by your ears, trapping you in position underneath his heavy and athletic frame.

Wrapping your hands around his head as he leaned into you to share an intimate kiss on the lips. He couldn’t wait and be patient any longer, his tongue pokes through to completely take over the inside of your mouth. Ushijima roughly dominates the kiss by massaging his tongue around yours while you continuously moaned into the heated gesture. At some point he had to pull away to let you both breathe a little. 

Your lips were barely touching while you breathed in each others warm air, a bit dizzy from that intoxicating kiss. His honest and dark olive eyes couldn’t keep off of your slightly swollen reddened lips as he went in for another one. Tracing the shape of your lips with the tip of his tongue, you watched through his long fluttering lashes. Sucking on your bottom lip, eager for your tongue to slip into his mouth as you felt his thick fingers caress the side of your face. 

“I’m so.. Hard right now, it hurts. I haven’t let it out in so long.” Ushijima’s hot and raspy voice whispered in your ear. Tilting your head to meet his vulnerable face, his hand reaches for yours so he could lead you to feel what’s in between his tight shorts. Wow, his bulge was real big and stiff. You haven’t fucked with your husband in a month or two due to his intensive training schedule. Of course, he hasn’t let out any of his steam while being so caught up practicing to play for the Olympics. 

“You could let it all out in me Toshi,” bringing his hand down your waistband to feel the wetness at the bottom of your underwear. His eyes slightly widened at the dampness. Ushijima brings his lips down to your neck to plant a sloppy kiss as his fingers rubbed along your clothed slit.

“I love you.” Ushijima shuffles up on his knees to take off his suffocating shirt that clung to him for dear life to reveal his rippling and muscular figure. Your fingers reached to linger across his sculpted torso trying to reel him in as he leaned back down towards you, placing hands on his broad shoulders.

“I love you too..” Your lustful eyes watched as he makes his way up your shirt, essentially pushing up your bra to reveal your stiff and perky nipples due to being released from their cage. Ushijima’s warm tongue caressing your tit causes you to push your head back into the soft pillow, the more he sucked and licked across your sensitive nip the more your head sank down. His other hand fondled with your unoccupied breast, teasing and playing with it as his eyes remained focused on your reactions. 

Shortly after, his hands bring themselves down towards your hips, gradually bringing his swollen lips down with it. Ushijima’s working down your pants and underwear. You sit up to help him, also taking off your shirt and bra as you sat naked in front of him, with a slightly red hue flushed across your face. 

“You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe my job kept me away from you for so long, I’m sorry..” Ushijima’s parting your legs open like the red sea as you tried to resist out of humiliation. Of course, losing to his powerful and sturdy hands that kept you apart. His dark olive orbs lit up seeing your cunt already wet with your slick from all the kissing and slight nipple play.

Ushijima dives in with his tongue that draws steady circles over your little bundle of nerves, causing you to let out a whimper of shock. The foreign sensation of his tongue on your clit felt so good, your locked legs squirmed despite his grasp on the back of your thighs. The skin like dough seeping out of his hands while he holds you up. Your mouth parting and opening as your moans grew louder, whenever you call out his name in that lewd state he doesn’t hold back. Your hands were buried into his hair, pushing his face closer to your pussy. He’s adding in a thick finger or two inside to curl into your sweet spot to help prep you for his cock. He knows he’s gonna have to use more than two fingers, so he snuck in another one to stretch you out. Your legs are twitching like crazy as you squirmed and forced his head closer. His tongue swirls around in your plush hole once more, driving you to your spinning orgasm as he slurps up all of your remaining juices before his finishing course. 

He unlatches his mouth from your dripping cunt as you lay limpless trying to regain your composure, watching him slide his shorts and boxers down to reveal his massive raging erection that dripped with precum. Your arms help you up as you saw him stroke it a few times as he grunted before laying it on your pussy.

“Toshi, is it gonna fit..?” You’re looking at him with a bit of fear in your eyes at his big and girthy length that’s currently sitting on your clit. He’s guiding his mad red tip to glide around on your slit, collecting the juices you secretated.

“I’ll make it fit.” Ushijima’s determined and believes it’ll all fit in like always even though you’re always a bit worried. Everytime you fuck it ends up like this, but he’s always somehow balls deep inside your plush walls that clung onto him. You knew that and always trusted him during the whole process of just putting it in. You’re laying down flat on your back as he’s towering over you once again. Feeling his tip find and prob at the entrance of your hole, Ushijima’s looking for your approval as you nod at him to stick it in.

There goes the first part, your entrance expands to take in his circumference. He’s slowly pushing it in, trying to not cause any more discomfort than his cock is already putting you in. the pain from stretching you out starts to kick in when you feel the stabbing sensation. Your deathenly grip on his shoulders increases, causing crescent marks to appear on his smooth skin whenever you had to readjust your hand placement. 

“You okay? It’s just about in.” Ushijima’s grunting from the tight heated walls that held his cock, making it feel like it’s about to snap in half at any given moment. The waves of the killer stinging sensation began to increase when he started to slide out. It was like a metal fork scratching a chalkboard inside. Shoving it back was even more painful even though it was slightly starting to mix with pleasure that’ll soon start to wash over and fill your body. 

Your body’s producing tears as a natural reaction towards the affliction, your loving husband’s wiping them off your face with his thumb while peppering you kisses all over. The slow but earth shattering damage that his cock implies on your clenching walls continued its attempt at stimulating you. Throwing your arms over his head, bringing him closer to your tearstained eyes. Your cunt takes the form of his size the more he moved in and out of you, loosening your grip on his cock.

“It feels good Toshi, you can go faster..” sobbing in between whines as waves of pleasure started to take over your body. Nodding his head as he grunted, his pace began to increase from a turtle’s pace to making you arch your back as you held onto him with all your might. His eyes averted to your breasts enjoying each bounce as he started to thrust even more. 

The amount of inaudible sounds coming from your mouth and the squelching from below, he can’t take it anymore it’s been far too long. Ushijima’s uneven breathing came to a pause whenever your gummy walls clenched, eventually he came inside. Filling you to the brim even when he thought he emptied his load in you. Taking it out, his white goo continued to spray onto your breasts and stomach as some of it started to drip out of your cunt.

“Shit, there’s so much ha.” He’s trying to jerk it all out before taking on another round with you. When he thought he was done, it just started to leak out from his tip. Biting his lip as he continues to finish, before putting your legs up into a mating press. 

Your knees pressed against the sticky semen on your chest as he’s pushing your ankles further down, exposing all of your pussy to him. You’re dripping with his cum that keeps trailing out of your cunt. Feeling his girth press against you again, he’s scooping his creamy white substance onto his cock before smoothly attempting to slide back in with a moan of relief. 

Your head tilts back from all the stimulation as you’re grabbing onto the sheets. His cock is able to plummet and destroy your insides even more with his position that made your body more sensitive with how much deeper he can reach. All you can do is let out your loud continuous moans and praises as you take all of his length again and again. His unbreakable stamina turns your head into a groggy mess as you try to keep conscious throughout his heavy, hard poundings. Ushijima notices your change in reaction when as you try to keep up with his momentum and came to a complete stop.

“Hey, you okay? Do you need to take a break or drink some water?” Your eyes focus on him from between your legs. His words melt into your ears now that the sounds of flesh on flesh came to a halt. All you could hear was the heavy breathing ringing in your ears.

You shake your head ‘No,’ knowing you’ll have to at some point. All you could think about what how it’s gonna be a long night to celebrate. 

masterlist here

[hadesoftheladies]

women's sports is one of the loudest and most successful anti-patriarchy campaigns in human history. what women's sports did and does is prove, over and over again, the excellence, the raw power and strength of the human woman. it completely disrupts ideas on gender.

you have big, powerful women in rugby. fast, endurable women runners. impeccably strong gymnasts. women with strong, large bodies that take up space. that are HEALTHY. they are not RESTRICTED or ladylike. they are free of the stillness/deadness that femininity demands. no corsets. no (aesthetic) thinness. no hourglass bodies for gawking. women's sports screams to society "we are fully human, not objects, not small men. we are not domestic dolls. we are hunters and foragers. fighters."

why do you think men are so vitriolic about it? why don't they want women in football? why don't they want it televized? why do they keep harassing female basketball players? why do they insist on dressing women in sexualized uniforms? why do they now make it taboo to exculde men from women's sports?

i firmly believe it's because women's sports tears patriarchal gender ideology apart so effortlessly. it completely spits in the face of patriarchal political propaganda and shows how null it is. it forces all of us to view women as full, as the beginning of human excellence, as central to human history. not as decorative sexual objects, no matter how men want us to be.

that's why there's so much aggression and derision when it comes to women's sports from men. because women's sports destroys the idea of femininity and depicts women as non-derivative. women must be monsters and cannot afford to play into the childlikeness that femininity demands. the arena of sports forces us to focus on women's physical performance rather than appearance. their strength rather than how attractive they are. their skill and strategy. their humanity. it is a form of entertainment where all female roles are agentive and active rather than passive.

women's sports events are also hotbeds for female and lgb solidarity like you have no idea!

y'all need to start watching women's sports. not only because it is exciting, but it deprograms the patriarchal bullshit out of you so fast. you realize how much is possible. how much we can all achieve right now.

[mischievous-thunder]

[lotus-pear]

soukoku shippers can NEVER come after kunizai now with the excuse of them having no angst i think they honestly win tragic yaoi of the year award WAIT UNTIL DAZAI HEARS HIS PARTNER GOT TURNED INTO A 7/11 $2.50 FROST GLACIER SLUSHIE 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[777gojosgf]

HE JUST COMES RUNNING TO ME

777GOJOSGF IS TYPING…

777gojosgf: reader x olympic medalist!gojo satoru

IN WHICH:: gojo won gold at the olympics!

a/n: inspired by the alchemy - taylor swift

YOU STOOD ON THE STANDS, your eyes fixed on him, your heart thumping out of your chest from the intense anxiousness coursing through you. how he was feeling right now is beyond comprehension. it seemed like there was only him and the applause pressed themselves into your ears.

just like it always had been.

since the two of you were students, you have always supported his athletics by attending every game, no matter what the circumstances. there wouldn't be a competition where you wouldn't be there to support him, and what started as a frivolous game with shoko grew into having a crush on the top player and him falling head over heels for you.

so you couldn't believe it when you found yourself in Paris, wearing a league shirt with his name on it and blue bracelets around your wrists, chanting along with the crowd. though a small part of you was afraid of what we cannot say, you knew that he had enough confidence for the two of you. your thoughts were confused by an immense pride and confidence that could only have come from the devil himself.

"nah, i’d win," he murmured to you before the game after kissing your cheek, which elicited a light-hearted shake of your head. he was competing for the gold medal in basketball, and while you would support him unconditionally regardless of the outcome, something inside you knew.

so as the game started and they promptly scored in the opposing team's basket, the entire stadium celebrated, as did you next to shoko, who had joined you in the stands after ending her shift as a stand-by doctor in case of an emergency at the olympics.

"doesn’t this remind you of when we joined their games as high schoolers?" you asked, turning your gaze towards her with a sweet smile. the happiness of wonderful recollections encircling your facial expressions, and she nodded. "the start of you ogling gojo? yes, it does." she joked, and you nudged her side, before the sound of another point rang throughout the stadium, and everyone stood up to shout for him and his team once again.

as the game went on, almost coming to its end and satoru kept getting in points nonchalantly as if he wasn’t being watched by the entire world, as if he was not competing for championship.

but as the bell rang to signal the end of the game, the entire crowd got up and applauded for the champions, as did you in a haze. you hadn't believed it yet, and your cheers were so loud that you tuned it out while embracing shoko, but your sight never left him. in fact, he had been looking at you since the bell rang, having discovered you standing in the stands without your knowledge.

it also struck you how he hadn't even waited for the medals to be handed out; instead, you saw your white-haired partner rush over to you with a smug grin that couldn't scream satoru any more than it already did. fortunately, you and shoko had special VIP tickets that allowed the two of you to be as close to the court as possible. he had quickly taken you up and lifted you, causing you to squeal before kissing him so passionately that you felt electrifying sparks coursing through your veins.

satoru smiled even broader into the kiss, raising you higher and whirling the two of you around. you couldn't bring yourself to care about the sound of cameras shuttering and the flashes that were so bright that they pained your eyes when you closed them.

you could only care about him.

and this moment.

you had finally let go of the kiss but not without missing the warmth on your lips as you squealed, “you fucking won, i’m so proud of you ‘toru. so, so proud of you!” you told him with disbelief yet pride written all over you and his chuckles tuned out everyone around you, almost letting you forget that he was spinning around and kissing you on national television.

he hadn’t cared about having his own moment on camera.

nor receiving the gold medal immediately.

no, he needed you as there was nothing else that came as close to being a prize like you.

you were his prize forever and always.

"i told you i'd win, darling." he remarked before lowering you down to the ground, but not before bringing you in by your waist again, laying a kiss on your forehead and then back on your lips. the grin on your faces had never faded, and you could almost hear shoko rolling her eyes at the public display of affection, but that just added to your excitement.

“i am so proud of you—holy shit. gold! i—" you began, still stunned by his victory, and there were no words to convey how you felt; nothing could justify how much he deserved this, as did his entire squad.

“i know, baby. thank you," he laughed, and his eyes shone so brightly that you could swear it lifted the entire stadium's spirit, as it did yours. he was still holding you close, and the journalists were pressing up against the two of you, desperate to capture this moment and entice your boyfriend into an immediate interview for their articles, but he didn't pay them any attention.

the only thing he did think about was you.

"go! go claim your award they’re waiting—" you stated with widened eyes, feeling slightly sorry that he had chosen you over the moment of instantly claiming his medal, but he rolled his eyes amusingly. he relaxed his grasp on you and patted your head. "as you wish, ma'am," satoru drawled, before bending in to whisper into your ear, his breath heated and making you flush.

“but you’re the prize i’m claiming tonight.”

with that, he squeezed your waist before sprinting back to join his teammates, and the camera swiftly snapped another image of you flushed and slightly dizzy from the spinning the two of you had just gone through, but it quickly turned into a joyous giggle as you cheered on your partner.

you couldn’t believe any of it.

the greatest in the league…

and he just comes running over to you.

bonus::

“oh my god, ‘toru look at this one!” you held up your phone towards him with an edit of the two of you made and posted on tiktok, already gaining a million likes. his expression softened at the sight of you, and especially of the two of you being together and it being broadcasted worldwide.

now there were even strangers rooting for the relationship the two of you had.

he pointed to your phone, letting out a laugh before drawing you closer. "look at you being all flustered," he mocked, causing you to grumble in frustration and playfully smack his bicep, never escape the moment being shared across all media, and satoru had most definitely not lived it down.

before you could say anything, he placed your phone on the bed and drew you onto his lap. he reached over to the nightstand and placed his gold medal on you. "’toru?" you asked, perplexed as your hands stretched for the medal, fiddling with it as you met his gaze.

“ssh, sweetheart. just admiring my prize.”

©777gojosgf

[saintlucretia]

let's be real, he'd win manspreading olympics

[mysunshinetemptress]

Patience

Alexia putellas x equestrian!reader

Warnings:rushed shitty writing, not proofread

“Vamos!” You shout arms outstretched above your head in relief and excitement as you watch the Spanish girls dance around the pitch hugging one another and thanking their Japanese opponents, your mamí wraps her arms around you tightly pulling you into a hug “Oh, Potro, eso fue increíble” You let out a small laugh hugging her tighter “Conozco a Mamí y esto es solo el principio, VAMOS ESPAÑA”

You smile watching the team happily talk to each other about the match that has just taken place before deciding to call it a night, you had one final training session before you would have to take part in the first round of the eventing on the 27th.

Your least favourite event was dressage, you hated how meticulous it was how precise, everything had to be on point, one wrong stride and you would be falling down the table, the bid for a medal slipping further away. But dressage was like a dance, a dance where your dance partner is your horse Once fuertes, you lead and he follows in time to the music.

When it’s over and you see your name sitting in first place and you don’t seem to dislike it as much, you are happy with your dance partner, with the precision of his hooves through the sand his strides perfect, of course it is you who cause the fault only a slight one but still you have raked up 16.00 penalty points.

1.5 penalty points less than your closest opponent but it’s not enough.

“Lo siento, mamá, debería haber sido mejor” you fall into your mothers arms “Potro, it was perfect, parada being so hard on yourself, tienes razón donde necesitas ser un potro, llegarás allí, solo espera.” All you can do is let out a grunt as you push off her and turn to follow your grooming team.

You don’t get a day to relax, to process your recent accomplishments instead your sitting on Once fuertes in a forest in Versailles getting ready to take part in the cross country trail for both Spain and yourself just like yesterday.

Only today is not a dance, today is a race against a nine point two minute clock and twenty eight fences/obstacles in the way. Once fuertes is big at 17.5 hands these obstacles will be nothing for him the time trial a minuscule thought for such a long strided horse like him, but it’s up to you to get him there.

You do so perfectly, you trust in him to leap over every obstacle and land ready to race towards the next and he does it without hesitation yet you don’t stop talking to him pushing him forward edging him to go faster to jump higher and it pays off. You hold your lead. You’re still number one, still in position for gold. Your first gold.

Your happier this time around, your mother can tell just from the way your hunched over Once talking to him happily “ Oh, mi chico, eres increíble, eres perfecto, podríamos hacer esto, yo y tú, once, yo y podrías ganarlo todo, oh, ese es mi sueño para ti y para mí.” Your mother pats Once happily “Bien hecho once, gracias por cuidar de mi potro” you beam down at your mother before swinging your leg over and jumping down from the thoroughbred laughing happily as your mamí pulls you in for another bone crushing hug “Dios mío, mamá I think we might actually have a chance, we might actually place on the podium me and Spain, me and Once.” Tears spring to your mothers eyes, happy tears at your growing excitement, at your accomplishments so far “I don’t think you’ll just place Potro, you will win it all, you and España and Once, you will win the gold.” You shake your head not wanting to get your hopes up just yet “Paciencia, es todo lo que tengo en este deporte.” Your mother squeezed your arms before letting you stand back as you got ready to follow your groomers again “you sound just like your Papá.”

It’s not over, far from it, you still have the eventing show jumping tomorrow, the team final and the individual qualifiers but tonight you can relax, tonight you get to watch La Rojas face off against Nigeria, tonight you get to focus back on a different race for a podium and your happy to get to switch off even just for an hour.

You sit happily in the Olympic village with your team around a table as you watch the girls battle it out, fighting for a point that never seems to come. “Uhh, no van a anotar, quiero decir, vamos, quedan diez minutos.” Your teammate Carlos shakes his head, you simply smile and shake your head “Paciencia Carlos, they will strike when they are good and ready. She will strike when she is good and ready.” The team laugh at your faith in the Spanish girls, your faith in your favourite player La Reina herself, but it is you who is laughing five minutes later when Alexia scores the only goal of the match “Mira, te lo dije, when she is good and ready.”

You look out at the castle the next morning getting ready to walk the course with your teammates insuring you know your route, your strides, when to push Once on more with your leg and when to let off, to losen the reins, this is it, you could win your first gold medal today with Spain, your first gold medal as an individual, you just have to be patient.

You must qualify in the top twenty five to reach the individual qualifiers, you must be in the top twenty five to win, you have to jump a clear round all while staying within the eighty second time period. Once has to stay calm, so you have to stay calm, Once must keep his strides precise, he can’t over stretch, he might knock a pole if he does, he might knock more than one and the penalties you have been working so hard to keep down could wrack up suddenly, but again your against the clock a time trial, you have to do this fast, he has to do this fast, you both have to do this fast and clean together, it’s the only way you will keep your spot.

And you do. You jump last for Spain, you jump clear for Spain, for your self, to qualify for the individual medal, not a single pole rocked within the cups and you stayed five seconds under the time limit, for Spain, for you and Once, you were perfect, he was perfect, now it’s a waiting game as the last five jumpers get ready to try and knock Spain off the gold position.

None of your other teammates scores are as perfect as yours but they aren’t the worst, not even middle, they are comfortably in the top twenty and so you stand in the stands to watch the final rider with bated breath.

Great Britain sit second, France sit third and with Tom McEwans for Great Britain four faults in his round he seals the deal on all three podium spots, you have done it, you’ve won a gold medal, Spain have won a gold medal, Once has won you both a gold medal and now you have to refocus to win your individual one.

Your jumping last out of the twenty five riders, you sit in first and you can’t do anything except watch how the riders ahead of you take this new course, their turns, their leg sheathed it’s on or off, how their horses react, you watch the screen as the names move up and down below the top four, the top four, four faults sit between you all, four faults is all it will take for you to drop off the podium altogether, for this to be all for nothing and as your time comes closer it seems to be the only thing swimming around your head.

But it clears, it clears as you swing your leg over Once and as your mamí squeezes your leg before turning to the thoroughbred “Enciérdala por mí, cuida a mi pequeño potro.”

Sixty seconds till your gold medal, sixty seconds till you hold a gold medal, till you and Once become Olympic champions sixty seconds and a clear round.

You don’t remember the course, you don’t remember starting the course, but the roar as Once touches the ground on the far side of the final fence, clear, two seconds under the time giving, clear, clear, he jumped clear, you jumped clear both of you together jumped clear, your an Olympic champion, Once is an Olympic champion, Spain are Olympic champions and all you can do is look towards the sky and shout.

You arrive back to the village beaming, two gold medals around your neck, a team and an individual, you won’t have time to celebrate it, not yet, the games aren’t over but for now you beam and let out quite thanks you’d as athletes pass you in the village congratulating you as they pass.

You freeze as a certain athlete stands in front of you “Guau, hace tres días y ya tienes dos medallas de oro, debes ser bueno.” Your frozen unable speak, unable to think, unable to breath. She’s gorgeous, she’s breathtaking and she’s standing right in front of you. “No, No not really.” She smiles holding out her hand to you “I’m Alexia.” You look at her hand before taking it gently, scared your hand might pass through hers “I-I am Y/n.” Alexia beams happily holding your hand for far longer than she expected but she thinks you’re gorgeous, that you’re breathtaking and so she doesn’t mind “I was going to get a go coffee, would you like to join me.” You nod before finding your words “Sí, me encantaría.”

You let out a laugh as Alexia tells you of her younger sister Alba stating that the only role she wanted in the Olympics was that of a WAG or singing in the opening ceremony.

You sit happily listening to her talk about her family, talks about them like you have known her and them forever, you want to ask about her father but decide that if she isn’t happy mentioning him to you, a complete stranger she met mere hours ago then you weren’t going to ask.

“I am here for Fútbol.” You nodded “Sí, I-I am a fan.” Alexia doesn’t react like you thought she would, her smile seems to grow “a fan, of Spain?, of Barcelona?, of me?.” You laugh “De todos ustedes, de España, de Barcelona de ustedes, la Reina- I have been in love with fútbol my entire life, I have been a culers my entire life, and I have been a fan of you since you started playing.” Alexia lets out a sigh, a content sigh. “That is good, because I don’t think I could give my phone number to a Real Madrid supporter.” You laugh again this time sliding your phone over to the older girl.

Alexia watch’s you as she types in her number, adding emojis to her name. “So you never told me what sport you’re so great at that you won both of your medals for.” You blush as the conversation turns to you, you were quite content listening to Alexia talk and now she had switched to you. “Ecuestre, this one is from the team eventing so Yo y otros tres ciclistas ganamos este.” You hold out your team gold medal for Alexia to inspect “Y entonces this one is my individual medal, but really I couldn’t have done it without Once.” You hold out your individual medal as Alexia’s eyebrows raise “what is your horses name.” You smile “Once fuertes” Alexia nods approving “eleven is a strong number alright.” You let out a giggle taking back your medals “so what does Once get.” You go to take your phone out to show her pictures of the thoroughbred “he gets a rosette, and carrots, lots of carrots.” Alexia let’s out a small oh “well that’s not fair.” You pause as you go to hand over your phone “what do you mean.” Alexia shrugs “well your job is easy, the horse does all the work, so shouldn’t he get a better prize.” You feel your face heat up and turn bright red from embarrassment, as you smile sheepishly putting your phone back in your pocket, you push your chair to get up from the table and Alexia can tell she’s said the wrong thing “Y/n.” You ignore her as you stand “Good luck for the rest of the games.” You leave immediately as Alexia shakes her head “Joder.”

Alexia tried texting you but your not answering and so she decides to see if you have any social media, with a quick google of your name Alexia feels her guilt increase ten fold “Y/n Ferré Balagueró dedicates her Olympic wins to her father.” “MIERDA”

[pitchsidestories]

golden girl II Alexia Putellas x Jenni Hermoso x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1732

a/n: as always this is just fiction, your feedback is always welcome. We saw that other people recently wrote fics with a similar topic and just wanted to clarify that we had the idea while writing one night in ibiza, so all similarities are purely coincidental.❤️

You watched from behind the camera as Alexia carried a football and set herself up to take a free kick. The ball spun through the air and landed perfectly in the top right corner of the goal.

You beamed.

This would make a nice video for the Spanish national teams social media sites.

As Alexia proudly turned towards the camera, her eyes met yours for a brief moment. She smiled, suddenly all flustered.

You held back a laugh to not ruin the video. Only once the recording stopped, you said: “Well done, babe!“

Alexias smile grew wider and you could have sworn the she even blushed.

“Ew!“, Jenni commented from somewhere behind you.

You turned to see her grimace in mock disgust.

Alexia barely glanced at her: “Shut it, Jenni.“

“No.“, the dark-haired player replied quickly and determinedly, similar to a stubborn child.

“Ignore her.“, you laughed as Alexia walked towards you and pulled you in by the waist for a kiss. Her gaze was still directed towards Jenni.

“Stop making out.“, she said and wrinkled her nose, repulsed by the showcase of affection.

Alexia only smirked at her: “I’m sorry but this point goes to me.“

“Whatever.“, Jenni rolled her eyes.

You were well acquainted with their bickering. They were both so ambitious, even when it came to you they always tried to one-up each other. This could go on forever if you didn’t put an end to it.

“Sorry, girl. But I’m not a trophy to be won.“, you said calmly and walked away without looking at them again.

Still, you could feel their eyes lingering as you walked towards the other players.

“Oh, little Miss Independent is back.“, Jenni teased, slight annoyance vibrating in her voice.

Alexia raised her eyebrows: “Also that was a lie, she clearly loves it.“

“Of course she does.“

“Just look at her.“, the Barcelona captain said, nodding in the direction where you were talking with Laia and Ona.

Another smile played on Jennis lips: “I love it when she’s acting all innocent.“

“Walking around, giving hugs to everyone. Oh, that Ona hug was extra long.“, Alexia commented your actions.

“She knows this doesn’t work, right?“

Behind all of the jokes and teasing however, was the slight sting of jealousy.

You didn’t notice the two player approaching you, you were too focused on your conversation with Ona.

“Oh my god, really, Oni?“, you laughed.

The defender went quiet: “Yes, uhm…“

“We definitely need to go on a walk with our dogs after the Olympics.“, you continued happily.

“We do.“

“Sweet.“, Alexia said cooly.

“Huh?“ You turned towards her, one eyebrow raised in expectation of a good excuse for interrupting your talk.

Jenni just smirked: “Quit flirting with Ona, you already have our attention.“

“I wasn’t flirting with her, we’re just good friends.”, you corrected her annoyed.

 “Quit rolling your eyes.”, the raven-haired woman demanded grinning.

“You know exactly what you did.”, Alexia shook her head amused.

“No.”, you answered innocently.

“See? She’s playing blameless again.”, Jenni sighed.

With a devilish grin, the blonde midfielder hugged you from behind, whispering into your ear. “You’ll confess everything tonight.” Her words send a shiver down your spine.

“Tonight?”, you repeated quietly.

“Yes.”, she affirmed.

“But we’ve our first Olympic game tomorrow!”, you protested.

“Don’t worry about it.”, the older forward assured you, while driving her hand through her dark open hair nonchalantly. The urge to touch her like she did in that moment was almost overwhelming, but you hold yourself back.

“And the beds are really small.”, you thought out loud.

“We can make a big one out of the three.”, Alexia suggested rationally.

“Easy.”, Jenni nodded enthusiastically.

“I guess we could do that.”, you admitted.

“Leave that to us, y/n.”, the oldest winked at you.

“I’ll let you do it.” A staff member called your name, reminding you that you had to do an interview for national television. To your girlfriends you explained. “Shit, I got to go, media duties.”

“Have fun.”, Alexia responded before turning her head to face the dark-haired forward.

“Great, that gives us enough time for the project bed.”, Jenni clapped excitedly into her hands. The enthusiasm reminded her of a child when it was about to open it’s present.

“Let’s go.”, the blonde told the woman who played in Mexico now.

The small cardboard beds were quickly put next to each other to form a bigger one, ready to hold the three of you.

“I think we’re ready only y/n is missing.”, Jenni announced delighted. The level of anticipation has been rising to the next level, the warmth and the near Mediterranean Sea added to it and the sun was about to set painting the sky in the prettiest colours.

“I’ll go see where she’s.”, Alexia decided, the taller woman following her immediately, in the hallway their hands were almost touching.  

Meanwhile, you were too focused on answering the questions of the journalist to realize that your girlfriends turned up behind your back.

“Oh, I can’t wait for the tournament to start, it’s so special as it’s the first time for our team to play at the Olympics.”, you raved, beaming with pride.

“Why’s she smiling like that? Y/n’s genuinely excited, huh?”, Jenni asked the blonde surprised.

“She’s.”, Alexia agreed.

“I could watch her do interviews forever.”, she declared swooning over you. Her green eyes admiring your sight, the gestures you made while talking about something you clearly loved and were passionate about.

“With whom I’d like to do a jersey swap? Definitely Marta, she’s such a big inspiration and everything she did for the women’s game is incredible. The only problem here is that Ona and Alexia want hers too, so we’ll see who gets it in the end.”, you laughed light-heartedly.

“Of course she would say that.”, Alexia scoffed.

Jenni watched on as you answered more questions: “Those young girls are such media pros.“

“I think she’s finally done.“, Alexia said, seemingly relieved that you were unable to embarrass her anymore.

You politely said goodbye to the interviewer and got up up.

“Hey! Y/n!“, Jenni called.

You heaved a sigh and gave her a death stare: “Jennifer, you don’t need to shout when we’re in the same room!“

The dark-haired player shrugged: “Wasn’t sure you saw us.“

“I’d always see you two, even in a crowded room.“, you replied, shaking your head.

“Don’t flatter us.“, Alexia said with a half-smile.

Confusion flashed across your face: “No, I mean you two, Misa and Irene are usually the tallest in every room.“

Alexias face dropped: “Seriously? I thought you were trying to be cute!“

Before you could say anything about how ridiculous that assumption was, Jenni clapped her hands: “Anyways, it’s time to take this to bed.“

You cocked your head teasingly: “Oh, is it?“

“Yes, it is.“, Alexia agreed with her teammate.

“Let’s go then.“, you shrugged.

“About time.“

“We did our waiting!“, Jenni complained and scooped you up into her arms.

You shrieked as she carried you off towards her bedroom. “Jenni, put me down!“

Alexia followed behind, closing her eyes for a second like she was fighting a headache: “Children.“

“Ale, help!“, you begged but the Barcelona captain barely gave you any attention.

“No.“

Jenni threw you down on the bed they prepared earlier: “Finally!“

“Finally?“, you echoed. The bed wobbled as she laid down beside you.

“Yes.“

“Are we sure this is stable enough to hold us three?“, you worried as Alexia climbed on your other side.

You suddenly remembered why the beds at the Olympic village were made out of cardboard. It was supposedly to prevent athletes from having sex and this might have worked for some. But apparently whoever came up with this had never met Jenni and Alexia.

“Don’t worry about it, darling.“, Jenni said while brushing a strand of hair out of your face. As she leaned over, the cardboard made the typical noise of being crushed.

You yelled in surprise: “Jenni!“

“Careful!“, Alexia laughed, trying to grab Jennis arm. Her movement made the whole bed collapse in a pile of mattresses and flat cardboard.

“Oh my god.“, you breathed out once the initial shock wore off.

“We broke the bed.“, Alexia commented unhelpfully.

“Just great, you two geniuses.“ You tried to sound mad but the ridiculousness of the situation made you grin.

Jenni instead was extremely amused by this: “I’m sure this will bring us luck.“

“Since when do broken beads do that?“, Alexia frowned at her.

“You can trust me.“, she kept smiling.

“I sure hope you’re right.”, you remarked.

“Me too.”, the Blonde stared at the forward.

“Just believe me girl.”, Jenni answered with a smug smile on her lips.

“And where are we supposed to sleep now.”, Alexia questioned while nodding to the destroyed beds.

“We still have our mattresses. Can’t be more uncomfortable than the beds.”, the older woman proposed.

“Good point.”, you said while the three of you lay down on those, you in the middle.

“I guess that’s my life as a professional athlete now.”, the midfielder hid her face behind her hands.

“You two are such pillow princesses.”, Jenni commented.

“Coming from the real pillow princess here.”, you countered, elbowing her softly.

“Lies.”, the dark-haired woman clicked her tongue.

“Truth.”, you disagreed smiling.

“Shut up.”, Jenni requested.

“Make me.”, you responded, sticking your tongue out for a second.

“Don’t worry, amor. I will.”, she hummed, pinning your arms downs, so you were unable to move, while her eyes wandered from your face to your breasts, under her gaze your cheeks turned hot.

“Go on.”, you muttered, you didn’t want to wait any longer.

With that intention Jenni got down on you to give you a feverish kiss. Taking her time to devour this one.

“Ah silence.”, Alexia sighed happily beneath you.

“Way better, right?”, Jenni looked up.

“Definitely.”, the midfielder noted, kissing both of you before her eyes were closing, sleep was calling her name.

“Is she asleep already?”, you questioned.

“Yes, good night my golden girls.”, the oldest woman chirmed.

“Golden girls?!”, you repeated.

“Quiet.” The demand coming from Alexia.

You apologized with a kiss to your cheek.

It was time to sleep, tomorrow was a big day, you were about to play your country’s first Olympic women’s football game, you three and your team were about to write history. Or should you rather say herstory.

[tsukiflwr]

𐙚 . CUTE PANTS…

𝓅airing ∿ ran takahashi x f!reader ᰔ 𝑜ne shot ; fluff, meet cutes, 𐙚 𝓌c 1599 ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓇oro's note. i’m so happy you sent a req for my boyfie ran, i have been wanting to write something for him for a while >.< . . based on this ask ﹒꒰ 𝓁ibrary ꒱

𝒮. you unexpectedly meet a new neighbor in . . . cute? pants during a fire drill

You had heard the alarms before you had even seen the apartment building you have been residing in for the past few years. Your thighs subtly ached as you rushed up the stone inclined path that led to the building. 

A heavy breath of relief left your lips when you made it to the top and saw your fellow residents talking amongst themselves outside the apartment. No fire or fire fighters in sight, it was just a drill. You smiled politely at your neighbors as you passed them, walking closer towards the apartment building, the annoying alarm didn't bother you since you were used to the sound. 

Your eyes traveled across the small sea of residents, some stood together most likely gossiping or complaining about the drill while others chose to stand alone. Your eyes did a double take when you noticed a tall and unfamiliar figure standing on his lonesome near the small water fountain that was to the side of the building. 

He had his back to you as he looked up at the building, so it wasn't his face that caught your attention, no it was his pants. It was his black joggers with little volleyballs. On them. What an interesting choice of pants, you thought to yourself with a small hum. You could easily tell by his body language that he was anxious about something. 

“No need to look so worried, they do this every other month” You spoke as you walked up behind him, your tone reassuring and soft, not wanting to startle him with your sudden presence. Your eyes widened at how fast he turned to look at you, despite your soft tone your sudden presence did seem to startle him. 

Ran flinched and quickly turned around to face you when he heard your voice, his breath hitching once he made eye contact with you. He was not expecting someone so pretty to be standing behind him, hell even talking to him. His mind wasn't even comprehending your words, instead his eyes were taking in every detail of you that he could. 

He suddenly felt very ridiculous, standing there with his lips parted as he looked down at you. He was internally yelling at himself to say something, but he couldn't form the words. Your lips parted in shock as you locked eyes with his sparkling brown eyes, your thoughts blanked for a moment as you took in his beauty. You started to become worried that you said something wrong when he didn't say anything back…just stared at you. 

Your fingers nervously fidgeted with the strap of your tote bag, you clear your throat and continue to speak, your tone a lot less confident as it was before “Safety measures and all that” 

Ran finally broke out of his trance, blinking a few times before giving you a small nod “Ahh right, that's nice to know” ran internally cringed at his poor excuse of a response, but he was thankful that you didn't seem to mind his awkwardness as you gave him a smile and listened to his words. He brought his hand up to awkwardly rub at his nape, he was totally blowing it and making a fool of himself. 

“Cute pants” you mused with a teasing smile as your eyes trailed down his body, stopping longer at his pants before tilting your head back to look up at him. Your teasing smile and tone made his heart start to race, and his hands start to shake at his sides. 

Ran’s eyes widened in panic, and he nervously rubbed his hands on the side of his pants, cursing himself for even stepping out of his apartment wearing them. His cheeks flushed in embarrassment as he chuckled nervously at the expense of himself “it's my laundry day” 

Before you could respond, Ran took charge of the conversation, wanting to move past his embarrassing pants. He held out his hand for you to shake as he introduced himself with a shy smile “I’m ran, i just moved into 242” 

His heart fluttered at the feeling of your soft hand holding onto his as you politely shook it. A choked-out gasp left his lips when you held his hand tighter as you got on your tiptoes to place a featherily light kiss on both of his cheeks before pulling away far too quickly for his taste. 

You smiled at his cute reaction, judging by his slight accent he wasn't from here and in turn, wasn't used to the cultural embrace. You let go of his hand before introducing yourself “242, hmm seems like you're right above me, do you have an explanation for the shuffling noises at 6am?” 

Ran didn't seem to pick up on your teasing tone and he's quick to apologize, trying to explain that it's because he has to be up early to stretch, but you found yourself getting lost in the way his eyes sparkled, his words completely going over your head. You giggled and shook your head, cutting him off from his small rant of apologies with your sweet tone “I'm just teasing ran, I'm already up by 6 so it doesn't bother me” 

“Oh” he mumbled to himself before nervously joining you in laughter, instantly relaxing a little at your reassurance. He cleared his throat and looked around at the two of your guy's surroundings, avoiding eye contact with you, before mumbling shyly “Sorry I'm not usually this awkward” 

You were quick to reassure him with a smile “It's alright, I'm sorry for –” 

“No no no it's not your fault . . . well it is but –” ran was internally panicking as he quickly cut you off, the last thing he wants is his pretty neighbor blaming herself for something that wasn't her fault, well not entirely her fault.  His heart was starting to race as you looked up at him in confusion with a slight tilt of your head “It is?” 

Ran let out a heavy breath before confessing softly as he stuffed his shaking hands in his pockets “You're just really pretty and i'm standing here making a fool out of myself the more i talk” 

He was worried that he came on too strong by calling you pretty when you physically froze and looked up at him with wide eyes. But he let out a small breath of relief when you let out a small giggle and took a step closer to him, he picked up on the small ‘cute’ you mumbled under your breath before saying “Thank you ran, and don't worry i don't think you are making a fool of yourself at all” 

“That's a relief, because I would really like to get to know you better . . . if that's alright with you of course, I'm in need of a good tour guide,” Ran smiled, shocking himself and you at the confidence and flintiness in his tone. 

Before you could answer you heard the manager of the apartment building calling out that it was alright for everyone to return to their apartments. You watched as your fellow residents made their way back into the building. You look back to ran to see that he hasn't looked away from you, his sparkling brown eyes begging for an answer, specifically a yes. 

You bit your lip before reaching into your tote bag and pulling out your pen and small notebook where you always wrote down your grocery lists. Ran’s eyes followed your every movement as you flipped it open and started to jolt down a number. His eyes went back up to your face as you ripped the page out and held it out for him. 

“Call me and we can schedule that tour, specifically not at 6am” You teased with a sparkling smile, slipping your pen and notebook back into your bag once he took the small paper. Ran smiled and let out a chuckle at your teasing, carefully holding the paper in his hands. 

“I’ll make sure to wear a different pair of pants” ran quickly joined in your teasing, looking down at his pants with a smile before looking back at you. You giggled and looked down at his pants with a small smile before locking eyes with him, your sweet smile turning into a flirty smirk as you looked at him up and down before confidently saying

“Hmm i don't mind what you wear, i have a feeling you would look cute in anything” 

Ran went still at your words, the flush on his cheeks were quick to come back at your openly flirting, he opened his mouth to try to come up with anything to say but nothing came out. You laughed and the sound sounded like heaven to his ears, you softly patted his shoulder as you walked away from him and towards the building lobby. 

Ran quickly turned around to face you and watched as you walked away from him, his eyes following you dutifully. Before stepping into the lobby, you turn to face him one more time, giving him a smile and shy wave before leaving his sight. He returned the smile and wave before looking down at the light pink paper in his hands. His smile turned into a grin as his mind tried to memorize the numbers. 

Living in Italy was a big change for Ran. The cultural differences, the greetings, the way people dined . . . the random fire drills in his new apartment, it would all take some time for him to get used to it all. 

. . . but seeing his pretty neighbor was one change he could happily get used to. 

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓇oro's note. pls pls the way I screamed when I saw a ran req in my inbox . . . and it being my first ask for the acc 🤭 I had soso much fun writing this , i absolutely love ran sm . I’ve had a crush on him for years ( og ran girly mhm ) so finally getting to write for him is great ! I hope you guys liked this , please let me know what you guys think I would love to your your guys opinions (∩˃o˂∩)♡ ꒰ nav ꒱

please like, comment and reblog .ᐟ

[moonstruckme]

hiiiiiiiii mae <3 i have an idea for thawing out series. what about if reader has a 'moment' w one of them and the other boy gets slightly cranky bc of it but then is also confused bc he doesn't know if he wants r or the other boy.........and then EPIPHANY 😈

Thanks for your request! The mood of it got altered some but I hope you like it :)

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16

cw: modern au, chronic pain, some hurt w/o comfort but dw we'll fix it down the line

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 2.6k words

“Pads!” Remus shouts across the ice. “Focus!”

Sirius’ cheeks pinken slightly as he tears his stare away from the Russian soloist practicing her quads. You laugh and say something to him that makes him pinch your waist meanly, as if you’ve been acting any better. 

You and Sirius are completely starstruck. Remus wants to be irritated at your distractibility, but it’s sort of adorable. You nearly fall on your bum watching the Austrian team run drills, Sirius is too busy eye-flirting with a Swedish skater to remember he’s supposed to be going into a turn, and you both stop your routine entirely when the Canadian duo steps out onto the ice. 

You and Sirius draw plenty of stares yourselves, though naturally only Sirius appears to notice. He shoots a wink at a skater admiring him and a glare at another looking too closely at you, his hand possessively on your lower back anytime you’re not running your routine. 

Altogether it means you have to spend a couple of extra hours learning to work through this specific brand of stage fright and running your drills again after you all get your heads turned multiple times, but Remus lets it slide. He remembers being just as dazzled during his first Olympics, seventeen years old and feeling like he’d somehow snuck into the hall of fame, an imposter among legends. 

Part of him hopes that the embarrassment of having to do a half-ass death spiral in front of so many professionals will make Sirius finally go all the way, but no such luck. He keeps you firmly above where you ought to be, expression impassive even as Remus can see you pleading with him with your eyes. Still, the rest of the routine goes well, and Remus tries not to let it get under his skin. He hopes you’re right and Sirius really will pull through in the final hour; your faith in your partner is absolute, and Remus finds it easy to put his faith in you. 

He lets you loose to spend the afternoon as you’d like, but it comes as no surprise when he sees you both on the ice again. Remus knows you’ve likely got plenty of nerves to work off. It’s one thing to compete in your home country, another entirely to represent your home country while competing amongst the best figure skaters in the world. He calls you off the ice before one of you can overexert yourselves and pull something. Sirius swears up and down that his ankle hasn’t bothered him since the day after he hurt it, and Remus hasn’t seen anything to make him suspect differently, but he knows better than to take risks with a healing injury. You spend the rest of the afternoon playing cards and gambling for candies in Sirius’ room. 

Eventually you disperse to go to bed. Remus’ hip has been bothering him since the flight the previous day, so he goes on a walk to stretch it out. It’s odd, he thinks, how easy things have come to feel between the three of you. When he first arrived, Remus had every intention of setting up strict professional boundaries, of knowing you only as your coach and seeing you only during practice times. And then you started practicing together, and it seemed like his boundaries wouldn’t even be necessary. Sirius hated him, and besides that the two of you existed in a bubble no one could penetrate, intimate and trusting only each other. Now, after learning about what your former coach did to you, Remus understands why that was necessary. You were protecting each other, safeguarding your partnership and your careers. It would have made sense for you to keep Remus at more than an arm’s length, taking his coaching with grains of salt and keeping him well away from your private lives. 

But then there have been days like today. Still bickering with Sirius, still watching the two of you interact with a familiarity only years of history can grant, but feeling warm and welcome despite it all. It feels easy, to tease Sirius and let him snipe back. To let you lean your shoulder into his and not move away. It feels good. 

Remus’ hip is feeling fairly good too by the time he gets back, sore from the exercise but not so stiff. As he makes his way to his room, passing Sirius’ and then yours on the way, he sees light sneaking through the crack underneath your door. 

He frowns. It’s late, and you’re meant to practice again early tomorrow morning, your last day of practice before you compete. You should be well rested. As he approaches your door, he hears sound coming from inside. Low, crackling voices, and a song that tugs at the fringes of his memory. Then a sound he knows too well, the shushing of skates on ice.

Remus knocks. The door is thin enough that he hears your little gasp and a quiet snap, and when you say “come in,” it sounds like a question. 

He suppresses a smile, opening your door cautiously in case you didn’t really mean it. 

You’re sitting on your bed, one hand atop your shut laptop. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” he says, leaning against the doorway. “It’s late.” 

“I know.” You look almost shy. Between that and the pajamas you have on, plaid little shorts and a bulky sweatshirt, Remus has the urge to pinch your chin between his fingers. “Sorry, I was just watching some, um…”

“Figure skating videos.” Your lips part, and he says, “I could hear them from outside.” 

“Oh.” You laugh. It’s a nice sound, one Remus can happily say he’s come to know well, but this one is woven through with nerves. “That’s embarrassing.” 

“Why is it embarrassing?” he asks honestly. “It’s normal to want to study your competition. And they’re fun, I still watch them all of the time.” 

“It’s not…” You give him a tentative look, then scoot over on your bed. “Do you want to see?” 

Remus can’t imagine you’re watching anything he hasn’t seen a million times, but he is curious which are your favorites. He’s careful to sit on top of your covers, a few inches between your leg and his. The bed doesn’t allow for anything more. 

“Fuck, did they really have to go back to making them out of cardboard?” 

That gets another nervous laugh out of you as you open your laptop screen, playing the video. And Remus knows then where he’s heard the music before. It’s his music. You’re watching his old routine, a niche one from a small competition back in Wales. Remus was fourteen when this was filmed. 

He glances at you, and you’re watching the video with your bottom lip trapped between your teeth, the colors of the screen dancing across your eyes. 

“I’ve always admired how tight your form was,” you say. “You were so young, but it was obvious you were putting the work in.” 

“I practiced a lot,” Remus agrees. “Too much, really.” 

The nostalgia he feels for figure skating is bittersweet when he watches videos like this. He remembers spending all his time in the rink, every hour he wasn’t in school or at home, nothing spared for friends or hobbies. He did love it, but in loving it he forgot to build a life outside of it. Life was constant motion, training and competitions and awards whirling around him like the rink during a spin; by the time he had his accident anyone that might have been his friend had their own friends, and Remus realized he may have been lonely for years. 

“I’m really glad you agreed to coach us.” You’re still watching the video, young Remus doing a camel spin. “You’ve made us a lot better, both of us. I know Sirius is going to end up fixing the spiral, and I’m going to try my best, and…I really hope we can make you proud.” 

“You will,” Remus says, instead of you already do. It feels wrong to take any credit for how incredible you are, either one of you, but that is what he feels when he sees you out on the ice. Proud. He looks at you carefully. “You’ve seemed wound pretty tightly lately.” 

Your eyes drop, no longer looking at young Remus but not at the older one either. 

“It’s alright to be nervous,” he says gently, “so long as you know that you deserve to be here. You’re going to do great.” 

You rub your lips together. “Were you nervous during your Olympics? Is it okay for you to talk about?” 

“Yeah,” Remus says, a bit surprised, “it’s fine. I was nervous. I was…” he chuckles “I was freaking out, honestly. But when I got out there, it was really just like any rink. The music and the routine were the same, so I just let myself get lost in it. I almost forgot where I was until it was over, and people were waving flags at me and all that from the stands.” He feels his lips curve with the memory. Bumps your shoulder lightly with his. “It’s not so bad. Anyway, I think it’s got to be better to go through it with someone else. I was on my own, but you’ll have Sirius with you.” 

You give him a little sideways smile. “And you, right?” 

A fond warmth blooms in Remus’ chest. “And me.” 

“Has it been difficult for you to coach us?” you ask him tentatively. “I mean, to come back?” 

Remus takes a deep breath. “Yeah,” he says after a minute. “At first, it really was. I’m not proud of it, and I don’t think I really knew it at the time, but I was jealous of both of you. Anytime you did something differently than I would have, I got so frustrated that you were throwing away these opportunities I would kill to have again. It was easy to look at either one of you and wish I was in your place.” 

You’re nodding, not a trace of hurt or offense in your expression. You look at him like you understand. 

“But that stopped a long time ago,” he says. “After I worked with you for longer, it became clear you’re both very different skaters than I was.” You huff a laugh, and Remus nudges your shoulder admonishingly. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing. I think early on I wasn’t a very good coach to you because I couldn’t see your individual strengths. But now I think I can, and it’s really a privilege to watch you skate together. It’s lovely. And I’ve loved getting to know you and Sirius, too. So, yeah, it was difficult at first, but I’m really glad I came on. And I’m glad you were patient enough to let me stay.” 

That got a bit more earnest than he intended. Remus feels heat rise to his face, but you’re still nodding, thoughtful, like you’re trying to wrap your head around it. He sees you rub your lips together again. 

“I really want to do well,” you say softly, “but I’m not the skater Sirius is. I don’t have his natural talent, and I don’t flourish under pressure the way he does. I—that’s usually when I mess up.” Remus’ chest aches at the vulnerability in your voice, his hand moving unconsciously to cover yours on the bed. Some of the tension goes out of you at the touch. “I’ve tried my whole life to keep up with him, but I’m never quite there, and you guys, you’ve both been these incredible, talented skaters…” Your eyes meet his, timid and ashamed. “I’m afraid I’m going to let you both down.” 

“Are you kidding?” You drop your gaze, and a surprised little laugh trips off Remus’ tongue as he ducks his head to follow, holding your hand more securely. “I’m sorry, that was rash, but really. How can you think that? You’re one of the most talented skaters I’ve ever seen.” 

You’re still avoiding his gaze. He takes your chin in his hand, gentle, an encouragement more than anything, but you let him turn you towards him. 

“I don’t care how much of it comes from natural aptitude,” he says firmly. “You’re an incredible skater. Even when I didn’t know you at all, it was obvious that you care about this more than Sirius or I likely ever have. That’s important. You can see it in how hard you train, and in how you move on the ice.” Remus shakes his head, expelling a breath. “It’s mesmerizing. You’re beautiful to watch.” 

You’re not shying away from him now, but Remus doesn’t let go of you. Your expression is wide open, diffident but curious. He goes on.

“The way you skate, it’s not just about the motions or the art of it, it’s joyous. Anyone can see how happy you are out there. That’s what makes you so good. You really love it.” 

“You did, too,” you murmur. 

His voice softens in kind. “I did. But not the way you do.” 

Your eyes lower, but this time he allows you it. Remus is suddenly acutely aware of your leg where it's pressed up against his, of his own heartbeat. He’s still holding your hand. 

You wet your lips. “Do you really mean all that?” 

“Why would I give you a whole speech I didn’t believe?” 

You crack a smile. “Some coaches call it a pep talk.” 

“You’re beautiful to watch,” he says again, voice dropping to a murmur as he realizes you’re staring at his lips. He breathes in, and the distance between you lessens. “You’re beautiful.” 

Remus knows he’s judged you rightly when your hand comes around his waist, pressing into the softness of his jumper to glean an impression of the skin underneath. You kiss like you skate, with a sweet eagerness, ready to explore and wanting to learn. Your lips part, inspiring a similar parting in Remus, and you let out a breath with a soft humming sound. 

Remus' nerves are alight underneath your hand on his side. He angles his torso to get you closer, free hand coasting up your thigh. Your fingers bunch in his jumper, kisses picking up heat as he lets his hand settle at the small of your back, an echo of how Sirius touched you this morning when—

Sirius. 

Remus draws away from you so suddenly he hears you gasp. He still has your face in his hand, can feel the flustered warmth of it before he removes that too, putting distance between you. 

“Sorry.” His voice is hoarse. Guilt burns in the back of his throat. “Sorry, it’s not you. I just, I—”

Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. 

“I didn’t think that through.” He can feel his heartbeat in his mouth. Sirius is in love with you. Remus is only just starting to feel like a part of your team, but this could send you all back in time. Kissing one of his skaters, who the other is in love with? His stomach hurts. “I’m your coach, and you—we have a big competition coming up. I shouldn’t have done that.” 

He edges off your bed, looking at you while he does. Your lips are still parted, eyes wide. 

“It was a really shit idea,” he says, “and I’m so sorry. It’s my fault.” 

You rub your lips together. Remus feels it like you’re still moving them against his own. “It’s fine,” you say on a breath. “We can forget it.” 

“I’m so sorry,” he says again. 

“It’s okay.” You’re shaking your head, and he’s backing away, both of you like deer caught in headlights. “You’re right, it was silly. We’re professionals, we can get past it.” 

Remus feels himself nodding, feels the handle of your door in his hand. 

“Practice in the morning?” you ask weakly. 

He pushes out a breath as he opens the door. “Yeah. Six thirty.”

[b14augrana]

Scrubber

The aftermath of a Champions League final masterclass

Barça Femení x teen!reader

pt. 4 masterlist

Warnings: cuteness 💝💝💝 you guys know the status on that proofreading.

A/N: i was going to use catalan translation for majority of the spanish dialogue but the translator was not cooperating which sucks 🫤 sighhhh

i hope y’all missed her because the mighty brick wall of barcelona is back and better 💪🏼

our estrella, buenaza, spain minister of defense, pequeñita, nenita, bebita, chiquita, whatever you wanna call her, shes the team’s pride and joy 😚

Everyone was talking about the final for weeks. When you got back to Barcelona, it was like the entirety of Cataluña had watched it.

Even while you were walking with Irene to Mapi’s apartment, you got stopped on the street multiple times by Barcelona natives, praising your defensive performance. You thanked them of course, but you were still not used to the attention. If you weren’t used to this, you couldn’t imagine how Aitana felt.

“Will it always be like this?” you asked Irene, and she put an arm around your shoulder as you two walked. “Sí, but you’ll get used to it,” she replied.

The club had given the players a day to recover from the plane ride and relax before you started to celebrate the win. You and Irene slept over at Mapi’s apartment and then you all went back to the club facilities together to board the bus.

While you were in Bilbao doing the lap and talking to fans, you got handed a huge Boixos Nois flag, which you took without hesitation. It was surprisingly easy to get it onto the plane and when you landed in Barcelona, you stashed it (along with a few other things) in the locker room. That’s what you so urgently needed to grab when you ran into the facility, almost missing the bus as you ran back to it with the flag beneath your arm and your waistband loaded with other festive accessories... plus the scarf tied around your head.

"Buenaza, you have enough stuff?" Mapi asked, laughing at the flag and bulkiness beneath your shirt.

"Yeah, I think. Is it not enough?" you replied, and Mapi shook her head. "Don't worry, it's enough."

The bus jolted forward as it started to move, almost making you fall over. "(Y/N)!" Aitana said, beckoning you over to her.

You loved Aitana. At first, you were a little bit intimidated by her because of how incredible she is as a player. Normally when someone is that good, there is some sort of unspoken skill hierarchy that you feel separates you two, but Aitana was different. She wasn't like a mum to you — that role belonged to Fridolina — but instead she was like a big sister. Everyone on the team was like your big sister though. Aitana just happened to be one of your favourites.

"Sit down," she urged you, basically pulling you onto the spot beside her. She too had a scarf tied around her head, which you pointed out and said, "We're matching!"

"What's under your shirt?" Aitana asked, pointing at the lumps. "Oh, just some stuff. You can have a few if you want," you replied, lifting your shirt slightly to reveal the rather large blaugrana-coloured party poppers and streamers shoved into the waistband of your pants.

Aitana laughed and took a couple party poppers and a roll of streamers, "Gracías!"

You felt the bus turn, and that's when a question came to mind. "What do we do after the parade?"

"We're going to the Plaça Sant Jaume," Aitana replied, "But let's worry about that later. Look!" She stood up and looked over the railing, and you did the same.

Below you were what looked like thousands of people dressed in blue and red, waving flags and scarves and whatever else. You could hear music being performed live, and you saw confetti and red and blue smoke.

"Mierda..." you whispered, taking it all in. You saw a sign in the crowd; '(Y/N) (Y/L/N), EL MINISTRO DE DEFENSA ESPAÑA'. You took a minute to translate it in your head and when it clicked to you, a wide grin appeared on your face.

Aitana shook you and held up her party poppers, signalling you to do the same. When you got them out, you two held them off the side of the bus and after Aitana counted down from 3, you both pulled them, sending a stream of red and blue confetti down to the people on the street below.

“Aitana, (Y/N)!” Alexia yelled from the other side of the bus, waving you two over. You walked over to her, making sure to grab your flag.

“What’s going on?” you asked, and she pointed to the camera. “Team photo! You’re in the front, since you’re la estrella de la temporada,” Alexia said, thrusting you downwards to sit in front of everyone else. You looked at her stunned, about to object and say you’d rather stand, but then the cameraman told you to look towards the camera and smile. You grumbled under your breath but obliged, and you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders. You looked up to see that they belonged to Alexia, who was smiling at you proudly.

“Nuestra estrella es la millor!” Aitana yelled, jumping at the back and blowing the last of her party poppers just as the cameraman took the photo.

You flushed red. You felt so appreciated, not only by your teammates but by the fans too. When you joined the team, you were also concerned about being taken in by the fans. The girls always said that without their support they’d be nothing, so they were extremely important to you. Seeing them wear your jersey, hearing their cheers for you, feeling their love whenever you walked into the stadium, it all meant the world to you.

“Okay, photo’s done. Let’s celebrate!” Patri yelled, and everyone agreed. You shot to your feet, grabbing your flag and running to the back of the bus. You held it by the end of the pole, waving the large flag over the railing. Aitana and Patri joined you, flinging the rest of the streamers off the back of the buss and collecting confetti from the ground to sprinkle on the crowd and in each other’s hair.

Mapi ran up to you three and starting jumping up and down, waving her flag. “Una bandera ens agermanaaaa!” she sung, grinning as she waved her bandera proudly.

The bus eventually stopped outside the city hall and you all filed off. The city hall’s architecture was classical, and you liked it very much. You didn’t immediately go inside though; you spent a good 10 minutes personally talking to fans down below, and you also took some photos and other media for the club Instagram page. You enjoyed interacting with the fans, and you were slowly warming up to the idea of it.

You admired the building as you walked inside, and you were led up the stairs and to the balcony which overlooked many more fans. A microphone was passed around between each player, giving them the chance to speak to the fans.

The girls took turns greeting the fans. Alexia croaked out a “Visca el Barça” and Frido could barely say “Hola” with her voice being so gone. Lucy spoke Catalan for the first time in forever, per Ona’s request, and then the microphone ended up with you.

“Hola,” you started off, not really sure what to say. Mapi leaned towards the mic and said, “Si no te das cuenta, está muy nerviosa,” laughing mischievously as you yanked the mic away from her.

“¡No la escuches! Todo lo que tengo que decir es que Barcelona es el mejor club del mundo!” you said into the mic, your voice cracking. You hadn’t even realised you lost your voice up until then, but you laughed it off nervously, just wanting to give the mic away. “Visca Barça y visca Cataluña!”

You hurriedly passed the mic to Mapi, breathing a sigh of relief once it was out of your grasp. You weren’t the best at speaking to such a huge crowd yet, but you could’ve done worse.

Just then, you remembered that the Euros and Olympics were only a few months away. You knew how much talking and interviews that entailed, which wasn’t really up your lane. Like you told yourself before, this lifestyle would take some getting used to.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed in your pocket, making you raise an eyebrow. You fished around for it and when you eventually pulled it out, your eyes widened in alarm. ‘Hurry! Your 813 day streak is about to end! Log in to Hay Day claim your rewards’ flashed across your screen, and you had never slapped in your password faster. On top of everything, how could you forget?

“Finally logging in?” Ale asked, and you nodded. “I thought something was seriously wrong with you when I didn’t see you checking up on Bagheera Land,” she continued. That wasn’t meant to be the name of your town, but Mapi had gotten into your phone one day, changed the name of it, and you had never changed it back.

“Come on, we’re going back to headquarters and then you have to start packing so we can leave,” she said, and you put your phone back in your pocket as you walked down the stairs of the city hall.

You had received your call up to the Spain national team not very long ago. At first you were hesitant to accept because of the movement against the Spanish football federation, and you confided in Mapi about it, telling her you wanted to protest against the federation with her, but she had convinced you to take the opportunity. She said it would help you grow closer to your Barcelona teammates and also meet the other Spain internationals, plus develop as a player. You were still hesitant, but you listened.

Then you learnt that the upcoming matches were Euro qualifiers and the matches after that would be Olympic games. That terrified you. To Aitana you were always ‘Pequeñita’, to Irene you were ‘Nenita’ and to Mapi you were ‘Bebita’ — you were basically a baby, you couldn’t play in such big tournaments!

You poured all of these feelings out to Alexia on the bus ride back to headquarters. At the end of your rant, she put her hand on your shoulder and looked at you intently. “Chiquita, you played in the final of the biggest European club competition and ended up being the player of the match. Without you, we wouldn’t have won that! You can play in the Olympics and the Euros, I believe in you.”

She wrapped her arms around you in a reassuring hug which you gratefully accepted, hugging her back tightly. “Thank you. I feel a little bit better about it now,” you giggled.

“Now, when we get back to headquarters, grab your stuff from your cubby and make sure you pack tonight. I’ll come pick you up tomorrow from Irene’s and if you’re not fully packed…”

“I will be, I promise,” you answered. “Can I take my Vidić jersey?”

“Chiquita, we’re only playing two matches. You’ll be reunited with your beloved jersey in no time,” Ale said. That wasn’t enough reassurance for you, and you looked at her with pleading eyes. The woman grumbled and shook her head, fighting back a smile. “Fine, I guess you can bring it.”

“You’re the best, Ale!”