#air lockers vs

[diymetalfabrication]

Explaining My DIY 4x4 Air Locker Setup: Parts, Wiring Diagram, And Demonstration

This is a full walkthrough of my entire offroad 4×4 air locker setup covering the physical location of all the components, wiring, and air parts. First I lay it all out on the whiteboard, then show where everything is located and how it is wired up. I also cover the air compressor, air tank, air regulator and fittings then demonstrate the differential locked and unlocked while up on the…

[onlyhereforthestories]

Chica Medica - Part 7 (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

I know this isn't the final in question but I can't find a gif of it. So have this one instead. Plus who wants to see sad Ale anyway 👀 This is the final part. this journey has been crazy and long but I can't thank you all enough. I'm glad this one got finished even if it took me like 2 years! Enjoy!

The atmosphere in the stadium was thick with tension. It was the day of the women’s champions league final, Barcelona vs Lyon. The anticipation had been building for the last few weeks, now it was her and both teams were toeing the line on another historic moment. It was a weight that you could feel even though you weren’t a player.

The teams had already started their warmups, which meant the stadium already had that buzz of energy ringing round it. Fans were filling into the seats, drinks and snacks in hand, chants falling from their lips and filling the arena. In the middle of all that excitement, was the nervous energy surrounding the players, you could sort of feel it coursing through you as you did some final checks on players. A lot of the players had been involved in the 2019 game with the same teams, the day when Lyon crushed Barcelona dreams of champions league glory with that brutal 4-1 win. The memory of that loss still lingered, and it hung over today’s match like a dark cloud.

From your position on the sideline, you could see it in the way the players moved. Some were more focused than usual, pushing themselves harder in the warm-up drills, while others seemed distracted, their minds already on the game to come. Even Alexia, who was usually so composed and steady, seemed a little off.

As warm-ups wrapped up and the team headed back toward the locker room for final preparations, you felt a familiar presence beside you. Alexia had broken off from the group and was making her way toward you, her expression tight but unreadable.

"Can you tape my ankle?" she asked, her voice steady, but you could hear the tension underneath, the underlying nerves that no one else but you and her would know about, even if it was never acknowledged. To the outside world she looked like the normal fearless captain ready to lead her side the best she can and always does.

You nodded and motioned for her to lead the way down the tunnel and past the locker rooms to the medical space. It wasn’t the first time she’d asked you to tape her ankle, it had actually become something of a pre-game ritual for the two of you, but today felt different and was different. The air between you was thick with the weight of the upcoming fixture, and you could sense that there was more to this than just a simple request.

As you gathered the tape and began to wrap her ankle, you kept your movements slow and precise, giving her time to speak if she wanted to. You could feel her eyes on you, her leg resting gently on your knee as you worked.

After a long pause, Alexia finally broke the silence. “I’m nervous.” It was barely said above a whisper as if she was in a room full of people and she didn’t want anyone of them to hear her.

The admission caught you off guard. The Alexia Putellas, mighty captain of Barcelona Femani, worldwide superstar, role model for many little girls around the globe, was nervous and admitting it verbally to you. In the quiet moment before the biggest game of the season, she was opening up and letting her guard down for you.

You glanced up at her, offering a soft smile. "That’s normal. It’s a big game. And it important to you."

She nodded, her eyes focused on the way your hands were delicately wrapping tape round her ankles. "I keep thinking about 2019," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper still. "How we weren’t ready, how they tore us apart. I don’t want that to happen again. I don’t want to let the team down. I don’t want to let the fans down."

You paused for a moment, your hands gently holding her ankle as you looked up at her. The weight of her words hung in the air between you, and you could see the vulnerability in her eyes along with the fear of failure, of history repeating itself.

"You won’t," you said softly, your voice steady. "This isn’t 2019, Ale. You’re not that same player, and this isn’t that same team. You’ve led them through everything this season. Whatever happens out there, they’re ready because of you. They are ready to fight with you."

Alexia exhaled slowly, her shoulders relaxing just slightly as she absorbed your words. You could tell she was still battling the nerves, but something in her posture shifted. It was like a quiet resolve starting to settle in and the confident captain was stepping back in.

"You’ve always been there," she said after a moment, her voice soft. That little glint she gets in her eyes when she’s just scored a goal present. "Since the start of the season, through all the ups and downs. I don’t think I’ve ever told you how much that’s meant to me."

You smiled, finishing the last few wraps of the tape around her ankle. "You don’t have to. I’m always here, no matter what."

The noise of the stadium, the weight of the final, the memories of what happened in 2019 were pushed to the back of both your minds in that second. For this one little moment it was just the two of you, in this quiet shared space.

She reached down, her hand gently brushing yours as you finished securing the tape. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "For everything."

You squeezed her hand gently, offering her the reassurance you knew she needed. "You’ve got this, Ale."

With a final nod, she stood up, testing her ankle and giving it a small flex before looking back at you. The tension in her eyes had eased, replaced with a quiet determination.

As she walked back toward the locker room, you watched her go, your heart swelling with pride. This was Alexia, the player who carried the weight of the team on her shoulders, but in moments like these, she was just a woman who needed support too. and you would happily always be that support.

The stadium lights grew brighter as the time for kick off approached, and you knew that no matter what happened on the pitch tonight, Alexia would give it everything she had. And so would the rest of the team.

You sat in awe as you watched all the pre-match stuff happen around you. Your eyes found it hard to leave the Barcelona captain once she had led the teams out, and as the songs were playing out, you noticed her glance your way. It was barely a second look but she caught the small smile and little thumbs up you gave her and it gave her that boost she needed to get her head focused, or so she thought.

The opening whistle rang through the stadium, but instead of the usual surge of excitement, there was a quiet undercurrent of nerves rippling through the team and the crowd. The air around the stadium thick with anticipation and nerves around what was to come. Lyon, experienced and relentless, were not a team to underestimate. And within ten minutes, they made sure to remind everyone of that.

You watched from the bench, your heart sinking as Alexia was tackled. Henry standing up from the slide with the ball and driving in field, she took a couple of touches before unleashing a strike you knew Alexia herself would have been proud of and you could only watch on as it nestled into the net. 1-0 to Lyon.

The stadium erupted with cheers from the Lyon supporters, but for Barcelona, the shock hit hard. You could see it in the way the players slowed for just a moment, the disbelief written across their faces. A few glanced toward the bench, their expressions filled with frustration and a rising sense of panic. This wasn’t something they were used to.

But none of them showed it more than Alexia. Her eyes were focused, but there was an edge to her movements that you recognized all too well, the tension, the pressure weighing down on her.

As the minutes ticked on, you could feel the anxiety building. Barcelona was chasing the game, trying to press forward, but Lyon was everywhere, cutting off every pass, intercepting every run.

Jenni had a chance or two to put Barcelona level but couldn’t quite do anything with the changes, the keeper of defenders dealing with her presence or shots well.

And then it happened again.

A quick one two down the left-hand side, a looping cross to the back post that Panos couldn’t quite intercept and a well-timed run from Lyons striker meant they doubled their lead. 2-0 Lyon.

You saw the anguish in the players’ faces, the disbelief starting to set in. The memory of 2019 was no longer just lingering in the background, it was happening all over again. The stadium felt heavier, the chants of the Lyon fans growing louder, the Barcelona ones dying out a little, and the Barcelona players seemed to feel the weight of every step they took.

Then, in the 35th minute, Lyon struck again. A mistake at the back gifted a tap-in to one of their players. 3-0 Lyon.

The sound of the ball hitting the back of the net was deafening, but all you could focus on was Alexia. She stood frozen for a moment, her hands resting on her knees as she took in the damage. Her expression was unreadable, but you could see the pain in her eyes, the mounting pressure of the game slipping away. She was fighting against the memories of the past, but they were catching up with her.

From the bench, you felt helpless, watching as Barcelona tried to regain some control, but the first half had been brutal. Lyon was dominating, and the damage seemed almost irreversible. The team’s confidence, which had been so strong coming into the final, was visibly shaken.

Then, just before halftime, Barcelona found a glimmer of hope.

In the 41st minute, a well-timed run from Alexia finally broke through Lyon’s defence. She latched onto a lovely cross from Caro and struck the ball with precision, sending it into the net passed the diving keeper. 3-1.

There was a brief moment of celebration, a flicker of joy in the stands and on the pitch. But it was muted, more relief than anything else. The team knew the damage had been done. As Alexia jogged back to her position with the ball tucked under her arm to hurry the game along, she glanced toward the bench, and for the briefest moment, your eyes met. You saw the anguish behind her focused gaze, the weight of the scoreline still heavy on her shoulders despite the goal.

It was a moment of hope, but it felt small in the shadow of everything that had already happened.

Halftime was tense. The locker room was filled with an oppressive silence, the usual chatter and tactical talk nowhere to be found. Everyone knew what had to be done, but the path ahead felt impossibly steep. You could see it in their faces, the frustration, the doubt.

Alexia sat quietly, her head bowed slightly as she caught her breath. She didn’t say anything, but her presence was commanding. The team took their cues from her, waiting, watching. There were no outbursts, no speeches. Just the weight of the moment settling into every player’s shoulders.

When it was time to head back out for the second half, they rose with quiet determination. No one needed to say anything. They all knew what was at stake, and they knew how difficult it would be to turn things around.

You stood near the tunnel as the team filed out, catching Alexia’s eye as she passed. She didn’t say a word, but there was a flicker of something in her gaze, a steely resolve, a promise to keep fighting, no matter what. Not that you would ever think she could give up.

The second half was a battle, but the damage from the first half was too much. Barcelona fought hard, pressing Lyon, creating chances, but the goals just wouldn’t come. Time ticked away, and with each passing minute, the weight of the scoreline became heavier.

Lyon defended with everything they had, and despite Barcelona’s best efforts, they couldn’t break through again. Alexia pushed herself to the limit, running harder, tackling fiercer, willing the team forward, but it wasn’t enough.

The final whistle echoed in your ears, the high-pitched sound sending your heart into your stomach. Lyon had won, again. Barcelona had fought so hard to get here again, had overcome challenges but had fallen short yet again, and the heart break was evident. The stadium was alive with the cheers of Lyon’s fans, but all you could focus on was the devastation unfolding around you.

Your players, your friends stood frozen, the weight of the loss settling in. Some dropped to their knees, others stared at the ground, their faces etched with disbelief. The pain in the air was unmistakable, and you could feel it in your own chest, a dull ache that mirrored theirs.

Then your eyes fell on Alexia.

She was on her knees in the centre of the pitch, her hands covering her face as she tried to contain the overwhelming flood of emotions. The captain, the leader, the one who carried the weight of this team on her shoulders, was breaking right in front of you.

You could see her shoulders shaking, her body trembling with silent sobs, and it was too much. The sight of her like that, so utterly heartbroken, tore at you. Every instinct in you wanted to go to her, to hold her, to tell her it would be okay. But the truth was, you weren’t sure it would be.

The overwhelming loss was too much for you to bear in that moment. You couldn’t handle watching Alexia break down like this, not after everything that had happened between you, not when your own emotions were threatening to pull you under. You could see her lying on her back sobbing even when your eyes were closed.

So, you turned away.

Without a word, you headed toward the tunnel, your heart racing and your chest tightening with every step you took. You could barely see through the blur of tears forming in your eyes as you hurried into the medical room, seeking the solitude you needed to process what had just happened. You couldn’t stay out there, not with Alexia on the floor, not with the agony of defeat surrounding you.

Once inside the medical room, you leaned against the wall, taking deep, shaky breaths. You tried to block out the sounds of the celebration from Lyon, it was just another punch in your already beat up heart. But it was hard. All you could think about was Alexia, how broken she had looked, how much this loss meant to her, and how helpless you felt to not be able to comfort her.

On the pitch, Alexia wiped her eyes, the tears still flowing as she tried to gather herself. The pain of losing the Champions League final was unbearable, but it wasn’t just that. It was everything combined, the pressure, the expectations, the weight she has carried for so long. And now, the crushing defeat that brought back memories of 2019, a nightmare she thought she’d escaped, had returned and god did it hurt.

But amid the chaos, something was missing. Or rather someone was missing.

Alexia looked up, her eyes scanning the sidelines, searching for you. She needed you now more than ever. You had always been there for her, a steady presence in the chaos. And in this moment, all she wanted was to find you, to feel that connection again. To feel good again.

But you weren’t there.

Her heart clenched, a new wave of panic washing over her. She searched the faces around her again, but she still didn’t see you. The celebrations, the commiserations of her teammates, none of it mattered. She needed to find you.

Without thinking, Alexia got to her feet, her body aching but her mind focused on one thing: you. She moved quickly towards the tunnel, ignoring the flashes of cameras, and the questions from some of the staff still by the bench. None of it mattered now.

When she was inside, her eyes darted around, searching for any sign of you. Then, she caught a glimpse of the medical room door slightly ajar. Her heart pounded in her chest as she made her way toward it, hoping, no praying, that you were there. That she could feel something other than defeat.

You were so in your head that you didn’t hear the soft creak of the door as it opened. You were seated on the edge of one of the treatment tables with your head in your hands, trying not to fully breakdown. You couldn’t face the team right now and you certainly couldn’t face Alexia after everything. You felt like you were betraying her in a way by not being out there, but it was just too much.

The you heard it, her soft voice coming from the doorway.

“Y/N?” it was tentative, nervous a little, but it was unmistakably her.

You lifted your head, your breath catching slightly in your throat when you saw Alexia standing in the doorway. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, her face still etched with the raw emotion of the loss. But there was something else in her gaze, something intense, something you couldn’t quite place.

She stepped inside, closing the door behind her, and for a moment, the two of you just stared at each other. The weight of the game, of everything that had been left unsaid between you, sat poised in the air, heavy and unwavering.

"Why did you leave?" Alexia asked, her voice barely above a whisper. There was no anger in her tone, just a quiet pain and confusion.

"I couldn’t..." you started, but your voice faltered. "I couldn’t watch you like that. It was too much."

Alexia’s eyes softened a fraction, and she took a few steps closer to you. "You think it wasn’t too much for me?" she asked, her voice shaking. You couldn’t tell if it was from the sadness still surrounding the day or the hurt you have now caused her. "You think losing this, after everything... was something I could just handle on my own?"

You looked away, the guilt rising in your chest, making it harder to keep your emotions in check. "I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to help you. I didn’t know if I was allowed to help you."

"I don’t need you to say anything," Alexia said, her voice thick with emotion. "I just need you there. With me. I’ve already lost one important thing tonight. I’m not losing you, too."

Her words hit you like a sucker punch to the gut, the intensity of them taking your breath away momentarily. You looked up at her, your heart beating out of your cheat as the weight of it all settled between you. The loss, the heartbreak, the months and months of tension between you, it all lead to this moment.

You watched as Alexia took a step closer, her hands shaking as she reached out for your own. “I can’t lose you,” she whispered. “Not after everything, I know I’ve pushed you away, I know I’ve made mistakes, but … I want you. No, I need you. I need you with me, and not just because you are a part of this team. As more, with me.”

Her confession hung in the air, raw and vulnerable. You could see the slight fear in her eyes behind the determination, the fear you knew of losing something else, someone else, important.

"I’m here," you whispered, your voice barely audible as you stood up, closing the distance between you. "I’m here, Ale. I want and need you too."

And that was all she needed.

Without another word, Alexia closed the gap between you, her lips crashing into yours in a kiss that was filled with all the emotions she had been holding back for so long. It was desperate, intense, and slightly hurried but it was everything. Everything she hadn’t been able to say, everything she had felt but hadn’t been able to express, was in that kiss.

You kissed her back, your hands sliding up to cup her face, feeling the warmth of her skin still slightly damp from a mix of tears and sweat, and the familiar softness of her lips. The weight of the loss, of the heartbreak, melted away in that moment, and all that remained was the two of you. It was always the two of you.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and wide-eyed, Alexia rested her forehead against yours, her breathing ragged as she whispered, "I’m not losing you."

You smiled softly, your heart swelling with emotion. "You’re not losing me. Not now, not ever."

The kiss lingered between you, as did the warmth of being pressed against the woman you loved, there was a mixture of unspoken emotions still on the tip of your tongues but now wasn’t the moment. The reality of where you were crept back in when the roar of the crowd could be heard outside, the faint celebrations of the Lyon players. As much as you wanted to stay in this quiet, life altering moment with alexia, you knew she would need to return to the pitch.

A soft knock interrupted the peaceful silence.

"Alexia?" It was Leila’s voice, quiet but insistent. "We need to be back on the pitch for the medals."

Alexia exhaled heavily, her forehead still resting against yours, her eyes closed as if she wasn’t ready to face the world outside just yet. But she nodded, knowing there was no escaping this part. You gently placed your hand on her arm, offering a small, supportive smile.

"You need to go," you said softly. "They’re waiting for you."

Alexia pulled back, her eyes still red from earlier, but the strength in them was returning. "Come with me?"

“Always.” You nodded, squeezing her hand before leading her toward the door.

Leila gave you both a knowing look when she saw the two of you walk out together with your hands connected, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she offered a small smile and gestured toward the tunnel.

Once you all made it back onto the pitch, Alexia and Leila went off to join the rest of the team in the line for the silver medals. The atmosphere was heavy around them, the weight of the crushing loss still taking its time to sink in. but behind that upset and sadness you could feel the determination in the air. Even if they were defeated this year, you knew they would go again next year, and as always, together.

As Alexia stood with her teammates lined up with her, waiting for her medals to be placed around her neck, she glanced at you. Standing off to the side but there, ever present you. There was something softer in her gaze now, gone was the torment of the first goal conceded, gone was the full weight of the loss, replacing it was something that you hadn’t seen before.

When the medal ceremony final started and Alexia walked to get hers, she accepted it with a quiet nod, her fingers barely brushing over it before she let it hang loosely around her neck. The team all stood together for the photo they all knew they had to take but all didn’t want to. The photo that would remind them of how close they had come. A bittersweet memory captures in a flash.

Once the photo was done everyone started to part ways. Some going to find their loved ones in the crowd, others taking a few steps away to give themselves a quiet moment. Alexia though had one more thing left to collect before she could join the rest of them.

The Golden Boot.

She had been the top scorer of the tournament, her performances throughout the campaign nothing short of extraordinary. But now, standing with the silver medal hanging loosely around her neck, Alexia looked anything but ready to celebrate her individual achievement. You knew she wouldn’t have cared for it that much even if they had won the whole thing, but it felt cruel to get it without the win.

As her name was called to receive the Golden Boot, she hesitated, her eyes dark with exhaustion and sadness. She glanced at you, standing off to the side, and you could see it. You could see the reluctance, the pain etched into her tear-streaked face. It broke your heart slightly, even though you knew that pain would fade.

You took a step forward, offering her a gentle smile, but you could feel her hesitation, her body still rooted in place. She didn’t want to go. She didn’t want to stand there in front of the cameras, holding a trophy when her heart was shattered by the team’s loss. She didn’t want to accept a single award when her team didn’t get what she thinks they should have together.

But you knew how important this was, even if she couldn’t feel it right now.

So, with that thought you walked up to her, you placed a hand on her arm, your voice soft but full of conviction. "Ale, I know it’s hard to think about right now, but even on the worst day, you achieved the best."

She looked at you, her brow furrowed in confusion, the weight of her emotions pressing down on her.

"You won the Golden Boot," you continued, your eyes never leaving hers. "It might be hard to take in at this moment, but this is a major achievement. You don’t want to forget it. And I certainly don’t want to."

Alexia’s eyes softened, her shoulders relaxing just slightly as she took in your words. There was still pain there, still heartbreak from the loss, but you could see a flicker of recognition. Something in her eyes that showed that she understood that even in the midst of defeat, she had achieved something remarkable. Something that in a month or two she would want to acknowledge and celebrate with her team and loved ones, just not now.

She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as she nodded. "I just... I don’t feel like I deserve it right now. Not after this."

You stepped closer, your voice steady and reassuring. "You deserve it more than anyone. You’ve worked harder than I have seen from any other player, and no one can take that from you, not even Lyon. This is your moment, Ale. Your incredible achievement. Own it."

For a moment, she just stared at you, her eyes searching yours for reassurance. Then, slowly, she nodded again, a soft, appreciative smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She couldn’t appreciate this now, but she knew you were right, and she would later, when the sting of the loss faded.

With a gentle push from you, Alexia stepped forward and made her way towards the podium. The cameras flashed as the Golden Boot was handed to her, and she accepted it with grace, even if her heart wasn’t fully in it.

She held the trophy in her hands, but her eyes were still tinged with sadness, her tear-stained face a reminder of the battle she had just lost. But even as the pain lingered, there was a quiet strength in her, an acknowledgment that this achievement mattered, well would matter just like you said. That it was something to be proud of, no matter how bittersweet the moment.

As she was asked by the photographers to pose with the trophy, her mind ran back to the loss. The sadness in her eyes captured forever for people to see. She caught your gaze, saw the pride and quiet admiration in your eyes and that gave her the strength to square her shoulders and smile slightly.

With a deep breathe she held the Golden Boot in front of her, ignored the flashing of the cameras that were capturing the moment forever. And although the smile on her face was faint, it was there, a small demonstration to everyone that despite the heartbreak of the day, she had achieved something worth smiling for.

When she made her way back to you after the photos, you could see the sadness was still the major emotion clinging to her, but alongside it was gratitude.

“Thank you,” she said softly, her voice thick with emotion. “For being here with me. For reminding me.”

You smiled, reaching up to gently brush a stray tear from her cheek. “Always.”

The flight back to Barcelona was going to be quiet, the exhaustion from the match and the emotions of the night weighing heavily on everyone. The plane hummed softly as the team settled into their seats, some player lost in their own thoughts, some chatting quietly about the match and what they could have done to change it.  

You had planned to sit quietly somewhere near the back, giving the team space to process the loss. But as you made your way down the aisle, Alexia’s hand gently caught yours, stopping you in your tracks.

"Sit with me?" she asked, her voice soft but sure. “Please.”

You hesitated for just a moment, glancing around the plane. The team was scattered in their seats, most of them already focused on their phones or staring out the windows. No one was really paying attention, but this felt... different. Public, in a way that you and Alexia hadn’t been before. Even if it as only the team you both knew and cared for so much.

But Alexia didn’t seem to care. Her eyes were soft, vulnerable in a way you hadn’t seen around the team. She was letting her guard down, and this time, she wasn’t trying to hide it.

With a small smile, you nodded and slid into the seat beside her. As the plane took off, you felt Alexia’s hand slip into yours, her fingers lacing together with yours in a quiet, intimate gesture. She leaned her head against your shoulder, the weight of the day finally catching up with her. You rested your head on top of hers, letting her know you had her.

For a while, you just sat there in comfortable silence, the hum of the plane a soft backdrop to the steady rhythm of her breathing. You could feel the tension slowly melting away as she relaxed into you, her body finally giving in to the exhaustion that had been building all night.

At some point, Alexia’s breathing became deeper, more rhythmic. She had fallen asleep on your shoulder, her head nestled against you in a way that felt so natural, so right. You smiled softly, your heart swelling with affection as you carefully adjusted your position to make sure she was comfortable. Letting her head tuck further into you and away from the prying eyes you knew were to come.

And you were right, the peace didn’t last long.

From across the aisle, you spotted Mapi grinning mischievously, her phone in hand. She was clearly taking a photo of Alexia asleep on your shoulder, her eyes glinting with amusement. You rolled your eyes playfully and stuck your tongue out at her, quickly raising your hand to cover the part of Alexia’s face that was visible.

Mapi chuckled quietly, snapping the photo anyway before mouthing, "Too late!" She gave you a cheeky wink before turning back to her seat, clearly pleased with herself. Ingrid obviously smacking the woman upside her head that just tore more chuckles from the blonde.

You shook your head, but the moment was too sweet to be annoyed. Instead, you glanced down at Alexia, still peacefully asleep, and let the warmth of the moment settle over you. It didn’t matter if the team was starting to notice, Alexia had made it clear that she didn’t care they would notice. She wasn’t hiding this, and neither were you.

The flight continued, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a quiet sense of contentment. The pain of the loss still lingered, but in this small moment, with Alexia resting beside you, it felt like everything was falling into place. Maybe just maybe you could stay as Alexia Chica Medica.

[childrenofcain-if]

Alternate universe where D is a football player because I can honestly see it 😂

They'd still be FwB with MC, who's a cheerleader (I love cliches heh). But at one of their final matches, they immediately run to MC after winning and kisses them in front of everyone. I've been thinking about this a lot

the locker room smelled like a nauseating mixture of sweat and antiseptic. there was an overall nervous energy in the whole area because of the upcoming game: the biggest of the season.

yale (bulldogs) vs princeton (tigers). the oldest college football rivalry in america since 1873. truthfully though? you really did not have that as your priority at the moment.

D’s shoulders were tense as they leaned against the row of lockers, their football gear half on, half off, like they couldn’t decide if they were gearing up for the game or gearing up for this conversation with you. you stood in front of them, your arms crossed, trying to hide the way your voice wavered as you spoke.

“why are we even doing this if it doesn’t mean anything to you?” you asked, your words sharper than you’d intended. you didn’t want to sound hurt, but the cracks were already showing and you hated yourself even more for it. “you said you loved me, D. was that a joke?”

D flinched, their jaw tightening.

“it wasn’t a joke,” they muttered, not meeting your eyes. “you know it wasn’t.“

“then what the hell is this?” you gestured between the two of you, the space that felt both too close and too far apart. “why can’t you just—” you stopped, biting back the lump rising in your throat. “why can’t you just be fair to us for once?”

D ran a hand through their damp brown hair, their helmet still sitting on the bench behind them. “because it’s complicated, alright? i’m really not good at this. i don’t know how to—”

“how to what?” you interrupted, your voice breaking. “how to be with someone who actually loves you? how to let yourself care about someone? how to not be a complete asshole?”

their silence was worse than any answer they could have given. you felt the sting of it like a slap.

“forget it,” you said, your voice quieter now, resigned. “this isn’t worth it. i’m not worth it, apparently. not to you.”

“don’t say that,” D said quickly, their voice low and rough, but before they could step toward you, the door opened, and your cheer teammates poked their heads in.

“hey, come on!” one of them called, her tone light but urgent. “we’ve gotta go!”

you hesitated, your gaze flicking between D and the exit. you wanted them to say something—anything—that would make you stay, that would make you believe this wasn’t just another dead end. but they didn’t.

so you left, letting the door swing shut behind you, leaving D standing there with their heart in their throat and everything unsaid on their tongue.

***

the stadium was alive in a way that almost felt sentient, the roar of the crowd reverberating through the air, through the ground, through your chest.

the cheer routine was designed to dazzle; full of sharp, explosive movements, tight formations, and splits that skimmed the edge of possibility. every count of the eight-beat rhythm had its place: a high V at one, a perfectly synchronized clap at three, a ripple of tumbling that broke apart and came back together like a flock of birds midflight.

there wasn’t room for hesitation. you had drilled it for weeks, the choreographer shouting corrections until the moves were muscle memory. your body knew what to do, even if your mind was stuck somewhere else.

somewhere else was D.

you couldn’t see them from the sidelines, not at first. the field was a mass of bodies, yale’s blue and white clashing violently with princeton’s orange and black, and it all blurred together under the floodlights.

the roar of the crowd pressed against you, a wall of sound that rattled your ribs, the kind of noise that demanded participation. you gripped your pom-poms tightly, smiling like your heart wasn’t threatening to give out, and launched into the first set of motions.

high kick. clap. shimmy. back handspring.

on the outside, you looked flawless, exactly like what the crowd wanted: all energy and excitement, no cracks in the façade. on the inside, your chest was a knot, the fight with D replaying on an endless loop in your head like a broken VHS tape.

the pyramid was next, the most complicated part of the routine. the bases braced themselves, strong and steady, while the flyers climbed onto their hands. you were in the middle, the top of the pyramid, the highest point for the crowd to see. it was a position of trust. you had to believe your teammates wouldn’t let you fall. it wasn’t something you usually thought about, but tonight, the irony cut deeper than you wanted to admit.

when you extended into the final pose, one leg straight, one bent, arms raised, your eyes landed on D for the first time.

they were in the huddle, standing tall as the team circled around them and the coach, their helmet tucked under one arm. the older man was shouting something you couldn’t hear, D’s face fierce with focus. you wanted to stay angry, but instead, you felt your chest tighten.

D was magnetic in the way they moved, their command of the team absolute. you hated how much you still wanted to be near them, how much your body betrayed you even when your heart was screaming.

the pyramid dismounted, your teammates catching you as you came down. you barely noticed the applause; you were too busy watching D jog onto the field for the first play.

***

D’S POV

D glanced toward the sideline. toward you. again.

it was ridiculous, the way you could disarm them from thirty yards away. you weren’t even looking at them. your head was bent close to one of your friend’s, your pom-poms hanging loosely in your hands. you were supposed to be listening to your captain, but D could see the faint smile on your lips, the way you kept sneaking glances toward the field like you weren’t paying attention at all.

like your eyes were searching for D.

D tore their eyes away before anyone could notice. they didn’t need their teammates teasing them about this—not right now. it was bad enough that their chest felt like it was caving in every time they saw you, bad enough that your fight before the game was still fresh in their head, your voice sharp and shaking, your words a blade sliding between their ribs.

why can’t you just be fair to us?

the truth was, they didn’t know how to. not the right way. not in a way that didn’t make them feel like they were standing naked in a room full of strangers, every scar and bruise and ugly thing about them laid bare.

you deserved better than the mess that they were. you deserved someone who didn’t flinch at the idea of love. someone who could give you everything without being afraid they’d ruin it before it began.

but even as they told themselves that, D knew they couldn’t let you go. not really. not ever.

“alright, team,” coach barked, snapping D back to the present. “this is it. princeton’s undefeated this season, but so are we. you want to be champions? prove it. show everyone you’ve got what it takes.”

the team roared their agreement, slapping helmets and clapping shoulders, the kind of camaraderie that made D feel grounded and restless all at once. they shoved their helmet on and jogged out to the field, their cleats digging into the turf, their breath coming steady and sharp.

they could do this. for the team, for the win, for yale.

no.

for you.

***

the first quarter passed in a blur of plays and hits, the kind of bone-rattling intensity that left D’s hands shaking with adrenaline. they took the snap, rolled back, dodged a tackle by inches, and launched the ball downfield.

the crowd erupted as yale’s receiver caught it just shy of the endzone, but D didn’t stop to celebrate. their eyes found you again, like a compass always pointing to their north star.

you were clapping, your pom-poms bouncing, but there was something off about your gorgeous smile. it didn’t reach your eyes, and D knew it was their fault. they’d put that ache there, and it killed them to see it.

focus. they had to focus.

***

the second quarter was worse. princeton’s defense was relentless, their linemen big enough to make D feel small—a very uncomfortable thing. every play felt like a war, every hit a reminder of how close they were to losing. the score was tied at halftime, and the locker room was a mess of noise and sweat and tension.

“get your head in the game, diaconu,” their coach snapped, pulling D aside as the team filed out. “you’re playing like you’ve got something else on your mind. whatever it is, leave it in here. got it?”

“got it,” D said, even though they didn’t.

they didn’t leave it in the locker room. they carried it back onto the field, where it sat heavy in their chest, driving them forward and holding them back all at once.

you were watching. D could feel your eyes on them every time they stepped up to the line, every time they called a play. it made them want to be better, to play harder, to show you that they weren’t just a coward who couldn’t say the words you needed to hear.

it wasn’t enough to just win. they had to earn you back.

***

YOUR POV

you watched in horror as princeton’s linebacker, a hulking person who looked more suited for professional wrestling than college football, blindsided D after a throw.

it was a dirty hit, helmet to helmet, and D went down hard. you froze, pom-poms slack in your hands, as the crowd erupted in boos. for a second, D didn’t move, and your chest seized with panic. but then they rolled onto their side, their hand going to their helmet, and relief flooded through you so fast it made you dizzy.

they got up, wobbling slightly, and waved off the trainers who tried to check on them.

your fingers dug into the plastic of your pom-poms, the edges biting into your skin. you wanted to scream at them to stop being so stubborn, to let someone take care of them for once. but you were stuck on the sidelines, powerless to do anything but watch.

it was the last quarter and the score was tied, and every play felt like life or death. the crowd was on its feet, the noise deafening, as D took the snap for the final play. they dropped back, scanning the field, their movements precise and fluid. princeton’s defense was closing in, but D didn’t flinch. and then, with a leap that seemed to defy gravity, they threw the ball downfield.

touchdown.

the stadium erupted. the crowd screamed. the cheer squad jumped and waved their pom-poms like their life depended on it, but you couldn’t move. you just stood there, your heart pounding, your eyes locked on D.

they ripped off their helmet, their face flushed and damp with sweat, and for a moment, they let their teammates surround them, clapping them on the back, shouting their praise. but D’s eyes were searching, scanning the sidelines, until they found you.

and then they ran.

it wasn’t graceful or dramatic—it was desperate and urgent, like they couldn’t get to you fast enough. the crowd blurred around you, the noise fading into a dull hum, as D closed the distance between you.

they didn’t stop when they reached you, just grabbed you and pulled you into their arms, burying their face in your shoulder like they were afraid to let go. you could feel their heartbeat racing, their chest heaving as they caught their breath.

“i’m sorry,” D said, their voice muffled against your uniform. “i’m so sorry. i’m an idiot. i was scared, okay? i love you and i didn’t want to screw this up. i didn’t want to screw you up.”

you pulled back just enough to look at them, their gray eyes raw and unguarded, and you felt your own walls crumbling rapidly.

“you love me?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

D nodded, their hands gripping your arms like you might vanish if they let go.

“i do. i love you,” they said, their voice cracking. “i love you so much it scares the hell out of me.”

you didn’t even realize you were crying until D’s thumb brushed a tear off your cheek. you let out a shaky laugh, leaning into them.

“i’m still supposed to be mad at you,” you said, but there was no heat in it.

D smiled, and it was the kind of smile that made your chest ache.

“yeah,” they said. “but can you be mad at me and be completely mine?”

you nodded, choking back a sob as you wrapped your arms around their neck, pulling them into a kiss. the noise of the crowd surged back in, louder than ever, and it mingled with D and your teammates hollering suddenly. but it didn’t matter. nothing mattered except D’s lips on yours, their hands on your waist, the way they held you like you were their centre of gravity.

when you finally pulled back, D rested their forehead against yours, their breath warm against your skin.

“will you still be cheering for me, baby?” they asked, their voice soft but hopeful.

you laughed through your tears, pressing another kiss to their lips. “always.”

[mattyriddlesbitch]

Okay so what if like the reader is a big prankster(preferably in Gryffindor) and she like plays a prank on the Slytherins but Blaise catches her and eventually it leads to spicy stuff 🥵🥵

I love this idea. Thank you! <3

Caught

Blaise Zabini x Gryffindor!F!Reader

Warnings: a teeny tiny bit of blackmail, unprotected sex, oral(male receiving), cussing

18+ Minors DNI!

You and your friends had a little rivalry with the Slytherin boys. It was all just pranks, nothing harmful. You guys didn’t hate each other, but you played into the house rivalry of Gryffindor vs Slytherin. You guys actually found it fun. No hard feelings between each other.

This time, you had the brilliant idea of rigging it so when they got their clothes out of their lockers next for quidditch, they would get covered in a red powder that stained the skin pretty well. So you snuck down to the locker rooms after you thought everyone had left. The locker rooms were empty so you started working on rigging all the lockers, which was definitely going to take a while considering how many you had to do.

You were about halfway done, trying to hurry up and finish just on the off chance that someone-

“What are you doing?” A voice said behind you and you jumped, turning around to see Blaise leaning against the lockers behind you. Shit.

“Nothing.” You lied, shutting the locker you were working on.

“Doesn’t look like nothing.” Blaise smiled. “You can tell me, I won’t be mad.”

You hesitated. If you told him, he would tell his friends and the prank wouldn’t work. But he might let you go. “A prank.”

“I can tell that much. What’s the prank?” He asked.

“The prank won’t work if I tell you.” You said, smiling sweetly.

He pushed off the lockers and took the few steps to step in front of you, leaning closer to your face. “I won’t tell.” He said, still smiling.

“I’m not saying anymore.” You said, backing up into the locker behind. Bad move.

He followed you, trapping you against the locker. “Come on. I won’t say anything. I just don’t wanna be on the receiving end of that prank.”

“No.” You shook your head.

“I could always go get Snape…” You knew he wouldn’t, but that threat hung in the air for a moment before you decided to do something stupid to save yourself.

You kissed him. You had wrapped your arms around the back of his neck and kissed him. His hands moved to your waist as he kissed you back, leaning you against the lockers. You were hoping to catch him off guard and then slip away, but he seemed ready and made it so you couldn’t just leave.

“Thought you would surprise me and then just get away, huh?” He said as he moved his lips to trail kisses along your neck.

“I was hoping so, yes. Seems you caught on.” You said, sighing softly at his kisses.

“I’m not as dumb as I look, love.” He said before biting softly at the skin on your neck.

“Clearly.” You moved a hand to tangle in his hair as a small moan escaped your lips.

“I’ll make you a little deal, then.” He said against your neck before moving to the other side. “I won’t tell anyone I saw you here, you can have your little prank, if you help me with something.”

“And what’s that something?” You asked, but you were sure you already knew the answer.

Instead of saying anything, he grabbed your arm and brought your hand to his crotch, where his dick was already straining against his pants. Your eyes widened slightly, but you didn’t move your hand away. You already were feeling yourself get wet from those kisses, you couldn’t deny part of you wanted it anyways. “So…Are you going to take the deal?” He asked, biting at your neck again.

“Yes.” You nodded.

“Good.” He said and pulled your hand away so he could undo his pants. He pushed them down along with his underwear and pulled away from your neck to see your face. You were staring at his cock and something about that look made him harder. “Come on. On your knees, baby.” He said and backed up to give you room.

You listened and got down on your knees, feeling the cold, uncomfortable ground. But you didn’t mind, you were too focused on his dick. You wrapped your hand around it, giving it a stroke before teasing his tip with your tongue, looking up at him. He moaned softly from your touch and wrapped his hand in your hair, pulling your hair away from your face.

“I think you can do better than that, right?” He said before pushing your head down so you took him in your mouth. You gagged as he hit the back of your throat and he groaned. He seemed to like that a lot. “Glad we could finally put your mouth to use since you didn’t wanna talk.” He teased as he guided your head up and down his cock. “Fucking hell, this is definitely a much better use of your mouth.” You moaned around him in response. “Wonder if your pussy’s better. You want me to fuck your pussy, baby?” You tried humming out a ‘yes’ around him, but that was a little hard when he kept hitting the back of your throat. He seemed to figure it out, though, because he pulled your mouth off of him and helped you stand up. “You really want it, ma?” He asked as he put his hands back on your waist.

“Yes. Please, I want it.” You nodded.

He smiled and moved to tug your bottoms and panties off before he worked on your shirt and bra. He pulled off his shirt as well and kissed you again, pushing you back against the lockers. He brought his hands to your legs and lifted you up, keeping you pressed against the lockers as he guided his cock to your entrance. “You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?” He said before he started pushing in, making you moan in reply. He bottomed out and you both moaned as he leaned his forehead on yours. “You’re fucking tight, baby. Shit.” He said before he started thrusting.

“Oh my god. Fuck.” You moaned, throwing your head back against the lockers, your arms holding onto him tightly.

“Is that good? Does that feel good?” He asked, kissing along your jaw and neck again.

“Yes! Feels so good, Blaise!” You nodded.

“Are you trying to let everyone back at the castle know how good I’m making you feel?” He teased, but did nothing to quiet you.

“No! Fuck! Just feels so good.” You reply, crying out as he starts thrusting harder.

“Yeah? You wanna cum on my dick, beautiful?” He asked, moving a hand to rub at your clit.

“Fuck! Yes! Please!” Your nails were digging into his back now and he hissed slightly from the pain, but kept going.

“I don’t know. You were trying to play a prank on us. You think you deserve it?” He teased, biting down on your neck again, pulling a whimper from you.

“Yes! I’ve been so good for you. Please.” You nodded.

“Hm.” He hummed against your skin before pulling back. “Fine. I wanna see you cum then. Look at me.”

You tilt your head back down to look at him as he keeps fucking into you. It was hard to focus on him when your eyes wanted to roll back in pleasure, but you managed as you were moaning and crying out for him. Only a few more thrusts and you came, crying out his name like a prayer as he helped ride out your orgasm. He wasn’t far behind you as he pulled out and came on your stomach and tits.

He brought you over to the showers in the locker room and helped you clean up. You both went over to collect your clothes and get dressed afterwards. He went over to open his locker and before you could warn him, the powder exploded on him, covering the top half of his body and you stood there covering your mouth, trying not to laugh.

“You better run, baby.” He warned without even looking at you.

You finally laughed as you took off, leaving him in the locker room covered in the red powder.

[paigebueckersmommy]

familiar - p.b

paige bueckers x reader (uconn student reporter)

warnings: fingering, semi public sex

requested

you were assigned to report the uconn vs jackson state wbb game. you knew why you were dreading this, it’s because Paige Bueckers gave you the best head you had received and never called you back.

you had finished interviewing paige post game, which you done with attitude, still pretty mad about the way paige had treated you.

you were picking yo your microphones, wire and other equipment when you saw a tall blonde approaching you from the corner of your eye. “hey,” paige said. “uh hi.” you say looking back to your equipment, the entire arena had been cleaned out by now. “uh sorry i was just wondering, do i know you? you looked pretty farmilar.” paige said. “um i don’t know does giving me the most sheet gripping head i’ve ever gotten then never texting me count as knowing me?”

“ohh.. uh i’m really sorry about that basketball was getting really tough on me.” i nod sarcastically at her comment. “listen i don’t care anymore but just don’t use the sports card on me.” you say, lying. you knew that you still cared just because it was paige bueckers. you saw paige’s mouth curl into a smile. “i mean i could give u a reason to care?” she says grinning. she waves two fingers in the air signaling and starts walking away tword the locker room.

you quickly follow her, knot the locker room. she presses you against the wall, kissing you messily. she began to hike up your skirt, so it was all by your hips. still kissing you, she moves your panties to the side plunging 3 fingers deep into your needy cunt. “you like that?” she says crooking her neck. you hurriedly nod, already out of breath from moaning making her giggle. the sounds of her fingers plunging into your wetness fill the room as paige watches you breathlessly moan from her fingers.

“shit shit shit,” you moan signaling your close orgasm. which only makes her speed up her pace. your practically screaming by this point when paige says, “u gonna cum baby? c’mon cum on my fingers,” with a smirk seeing the condition her fingers have you in. you finally clench around her lengthy digits, as she watched your cum spill out onto her fingers. “fuck,” she breathes.

she brings her fingers up to her mouth as if she’s just finished a meal. “yea what was that number again?” she says, pulling out her phone as you two begin to leave the locker room.

[withwritersblock]

Think Later

~think later by Tate McRae~

Author's Note: Requested! I love this song so mf much Summary: Jack and Luke's sister is in town to visit when she finds a different Devil's player more interesting Warnings: implied smut, a very brief mention of toxic relationships Word Count: 1,585 Nico Hischer vs. Hughes fm!reader

Jack pulled his gear from his shoulders, letting out a huff of air. The team had beaten the Bruins in a 4-2 win. Where he scored two goals. He was excited to get out of the locker room because his older sister was in town. Her flight landed an hour before the game started, she barely had to time to go to Jack’s apartment and drop her bag off. 

“You guys going to Jerry’s?” Nico asked. It was bar and restaurant that the team liked to go to after they won games. Or even after horrible losses. Jack shot a look towards Luke across the room. Luke took a deep breath.

“Our sister is in town, she might want to just go home,” Jack offered. Nico perked upward, a smirk toyed to his lips. 

It was safe to say, he has crushed on Y/N since the first time he met her. It was during Jack’s rookie season, she stayed with Jack for a few weeks. Jack was struggling emotionally for a lot of his rookie year, and having his older sister in town was simply enough to help him get through it. 

“Don’t even think about it,” Jack pointed towards Nico. The locker room was pretty empty at this point, most of the guys had showered and left already. Luke furrowed his eyebrows harshly as he whipped his head around. 

“I wasn’t-” Nico started but Luke interrupted.

“She just got out of a relationship,” Luke let out as he walked towards Nico. 

“I said I wasn’t thinking about it,” Nico defended as he ran his fingers through his hair, “I’m gonna hit the showers,” Nico continued as he had a small smirk on his lips. 

It took another twenty minutes before both Jack and Luke left the locker room to see their older sister Y/N waiting for them. Luke smiled widely as he quickly made his way towards her. She gladly opened her arms for her youngest brother. 

She was technically the oldest. She was older than Quinn by twelve minutes. A fact she constantly reminded Quinn of. She was the only Hughes kid that lacked any interest in hockey, other than her brothers playing. She was a theatre kid, which was a complete one-eighty to what her parents childhoods were like. Her brothers were always more than supported. 

She felt teary-eyed as she engulfed her younger brother in a tight hug. This was the first time she saw Luke play in person in the Devils jersey. Her ex-boyfriend was a really difficult guy and wouldn’t let her travel on her own. He never wanted to spend the money to travel, so she never went to see the games. She was tightly wrapped her arms around his neck tightly. 

“Good job, Lukey Boy,” she let out as she pulled away meeting his eye. He smiled softly as he blinked away his own tears in his eye. She moved away from Luke towards Jack. “What a game, J,” she mumbled as she hugged him tightly. 

“Thanks, how are you feeling? Up for Jerry’s?” he said as he pulled away, his eyes slightly teary. She nodded dramatically. 

“Oh god, my rich brothers buying me drinks all night? How could I say no?” she asked as she stared walking towards the parking garage, blindly hoping they’d show her where Luke’s car was.

~~ 

They stepped into Jerry’s to see the entire bar was the team and their partners. The three of them walked towards the bar. Nico was sitting alone, nursing a beer as he kept his gaze on the TV screen replaying their game. It was in the middle of the first period. Jack patted on his shoulder, pulling his attention towards him. 

“Nico, you remember our sister, Y/N!” he let out loudly, over the noise of the bar. Nico met Jack’s eye for a second before he turned his gaze towards Y/N. Her eyes widened slightly as she met his gaze. The smirk on her lips quickly went away as fast as it appeared. Jack gave him a visual warning, a small head shake. “I’m gonna get us drinks, Lukey what do you want?” Jack shifted his attention towards Luke. 

“Nico, it’s nice to meet you again,” she offered as she stood beside him, close enough their arms could touch at any moment. He turned his gaze towards her, his heart beating hard against his chest.

“You too, Y/N,” he licked his lip as he shifted his gaze towards Jack and Luke behind her. 

“What do you want?” Jack asked smacking his hand against her back. She jolted suddenly, looking towards the bartender.

“Tequila soda extra lime, please,” she expressed. The bartender nodded as he began to work.

“Are you sure? Tequila may not-”

“Jack,” she scolded. He nodded reluctantly as he leaned against the bartop. Over his entire life, he knew to never argue with his older sister. She was feisty and could easily ruin him. She turned her gaze back towards Nico.

He never once looked away from her features. He couldn’t focus, he couldn’t breath as she was so stunning. She knew it too. The second she met Nico’s gaze, she pursed her lips forward. She tried to not smile. 

“Bold choice,” Nico muttered as he lowered his gaze towards her lips. They were glossed with a red color. She shrugged slightly. 

“Boring choice,” she pointed towards the beer in his hand. Nico dropped his head, a chuckle leaving his lips. “Trying to act all tough in front of your teammates?”

“I don’t need to try, I am,” he never wavered eye contact as he brought his beer towards his lips. He took a small sip. 

The bartender slid the tequila soda towards her. She smiled politely towards the bartender as she brought the glass towards her lips. Taking a sip, it tasted perfect.

“At least my drink has flavor,” she mumbled as she took another sip. Jack and Luke got their beers and were long gone, didn’t want to stay to witness Nico hit on their sister. Or even worse, their sister play along.

“It has flavor,” he defended, taking a sip of the beer. Cringing at the taste, her eyes widened as she chuckled. He smiled, “Didn’t say good flavor,”  

She leaned towards him, sliding her glass over, “Go ahead, try it,” she expressed. He clenched his jaw as he reluctantly placed his beer down. He hesitantly took a hold of the short glass. “Come on it’s so good,” she offered as she delicately rested her hand onto his forearm. He smirked towards her as he took a small sip. He quickly pulled his face away, his face scrunch together.

“Oh that’s awful,” he barely got out. 

“Oh come on!” she groaned out as she pulled the glass towards her, “You’re joking,” she let out. He shook his head, quickly pulling beer towards his lips.

“No, that was horrible,”

It had been an hour since she showed up to the bar, and it was pretty obvious that her and Nico were into one another. Jack would show up between them every so often, trying to shut down whatever was happening but it wasn’t working. 

“You know, I’m not supposed to be talking to you,” Nico let out as he tilted his head to the side. He scraped at the label of his beer bottle. She squinted her eyes slightly.

“Why’s that?” she pulled her lip gloss from her front pocket and slowly started applying it to her lips. 

“Jack doesn’t want me involved with you,” he let out. She rolled her eyes dramatically. 

“He can’t control who I talk to, or who I get involved with,” she explained confidently. She shoved her lip gloss back into her pocket as she hopped off the stool. She seductively ran her hand across his arm, slowly gripping his bicep. 

“I live across the street,” he mumbled as he lowered his gaze towards her lips. She nodded as she slowly ran her hand down his arm again, interlocking her fingers with his. 

“I just got out of a bad relationship,” she explained, meeting his gaze, “Bad in more ways than one,” she let out. Hoping he caught on. He nodded as he cleared his throat. 

“Come on,” he mumbled as he stood up from his stool, guiding her towards the bar exit. Y/N’s met Luke’s gaze from across the bar.

He tried to hold in his laughter as he watched Nico drag Y/N out of the bar. Luke smacked his hand against Jack’s arm. Jack and Dawson both shifted their gaze towards Luke. “Caps hooking up with our sister,” he let out, subtly pointing towards Y/N stepping out of the bar. He started laughing. Dawson tried to keep his laughter inside as he saw Jack’s angry expression.

“That motherfuc-”

Nico continued guiding Y/N across the street towards his apartment complex. They stepped into the lobby, he nodded towards the receptionist as he walked towards the elevator. He pressed the up button multiple times. 

“Think once is enough,” she whispered. He rolled his eyes playfully as the doors opened. He took a hold of her waist, pulling her inside. 

“Once is never enough,” he muttered as he pressed the button to his floor. He quickly guided her towards the back of the elevator, devouring her lips in the process.

“Oh my god,” she mumbled against his lips as she ran her fingers through the ends of his hair.

[ariseur]

ok i saw you wanted some requests so im here to give you an idea!! im really angst about gojo right now and i need an angst fic. (spoilers for the manga)

ok so: gojo x reader but readers cursed technique is to be able to see into the future (but they can’t do anything about it or talk about it) and they get a vision of the gojo vs. sukuna fight and what happens. they get all upset about it and cling to gojo, trying to get him not to go. (established relationship pls🙏🏻)

sorry for the drabble, i’ve been aching for someone to write this haha

HOLD ME ( TIGHTER THAN YOU EVER WILL ) - SATORU GOJO

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ notes - i’m not gonna lie anon, i just finished the manga and i fell to my knees when i saw this request. ilysm for this but you are EVIL ( kiss me rn thank you for providing me with this angst )

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ warnings - spoilers for jujutsu kaisen manga chpts 222 - 236, character death ( canon ), weirdly descriptive mentions of you choking back words ( like that feeling you get when you’re trying not to cry and it feels like there’s barbed wire in your throat😭 ), gojo calls you “my girl” twice so fem!reader in mind when writing this, i didn’t really describe it as much of a technique i mainly kept it like you were seeing visions since i didn’t know how to correlate the ct i’m sorry!!, intended lowercase, hope you guys enjoy 😚💕!!

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ word count - 1654 words, 9068 characterss

“satoru.”

gojo turned around, his footsteps coming to a halt down the hallway of the infirmary. his face tipped towards you, cocking a bit as he let out a low hum of question.

upon seeing his face, your stomach clenched; a deep regret swirling in your abdomen. with a look at his face, your bottom lip quivered with furrowed brows. he stood there, trying to decipher your expression as he awaited an answer. his eyes, narrowed with confidence stood out on display rather than shielded from his blindfold. there was nothing left to hide now, not his strength and not his arrogance. you remembered how you had always begged him to take it off at least once, just so you could see his pretty eyes.

and now looking back retrospectively, it didn’t matter. those visions you saw, how real they felt. they couldn’t have been dreams, they always haunted you as they showed up everywhere. your eyes fell to satoru’s pink lips, pressed together in confusion before another thought intruded your head — another sight to behold as you felt like gagging upon remembering his bruised face, the blood spouting out from his mouth tainting his lips.

“i just,” you swallowed thickly, “i don’t think it’s a good idea to do this just yet.”

he sighed, giving one shake of his head before he stepped forward towards you. your head hung low, your words choked at the back of your throat as they threatened to escape their enclosure behind your uvula. “megumi’s in danger, people are watchin’ — i can’t postpone it, baby, you know that.” his hand placed itself on your shoulder, softly rubbing against the fabric of your shirt where the seams met.

“i’m not saying that— i just mean,” you closed your eyes, letting out a quiet, shaky breath. you recalled the conversation that happened not too long ago, back with ijichi and shoko. lamenting with all the memories back in your youth, along with reminiscing over everything that’s happened. shibuya, megumi’s possession, okkotsu’s return. everybody who’s died, it haunted you like no other knowing there was nothing you could do to prevent it; kugisaki, nanami, all those lives dealt a bad hand at their dreadful end. even yuuji itadori, someone so young being used so carelessly.

“damn, so it’s just the four of us left.” gojo’s voice had echoed throughout the room of your previous conversation. your head tipping back against the cold lockers as you stood in the corner, the scent of tobacco wafting in the air and seeping in through your nostrils from shoko’s cigarette whilst she stood not even a few feet away from you.

“well, there’s still also that idiot.” she huffed, transparent smoke slipping out in thin shapes from past her lips.

being around her for so long, the smell became indelible in your brain, your senses immediately causing you to retrace back to ieiri’s bad habit. even now, as you stood in front of your beloved — even as his distant musk flew up to your head as it had just barely intoxicated you, the smell of cigarettes and menthol was still unforgettable. you remembered the scratch in your throat as you hummed in agreement, your voice uneasy and raspy from misuse as gojo looked back up at shoko. “. . that’s true.”

eyes fluttering closed, you let out a small huff as you heard ijichi debriefing about something related to nanami, not that you could pay attention anyways. the voices and the images and the downright fuckery that went on in your brain was too loud for you to focus on anything else, including satoru’s face right in front of yours as you stopped recalling the transpired events as your head bowed down even further.

“look at me,” you heard him say. he gave your shoulders a gentle shake as his hand snaked up from your arm to your chin, trying to redirect your attention back to him no matter how much your head resisted. “where’s my girl at? don’t be shy, jus’ talk to me.”

your eyebrows crinkled as they met in the middle, the slight bit of skin creasing at contact when you finally looked up at him. his lashes ridged around his upper eyelids, pupils gazing ever so delicately as they softened at the sight of you. his thumb turned to face vertically, grazing your lip as he cocked his head; and then, he smiled. what once was so comforting long ago, where you two would spend mornings lazing around in bed as you’d forget about the first years, forget about yaga, forget about responsibilities. it was like you were in that high school bliss again, unable to care about anything more than the person right in front of you — even if they were drooling all over your arm. his smile, canines on display, only made you feel sicker about what you knew.

he pulled you into his chest slowly ( giving you enough time to thrash out of his embrace and tell him to knock it off, even if it’d hurt his pride a bit ) and as he rested his chin on you, he mumbled against your ear, “you can cry it out, you know.”

“‘m not crying.” you smacked his shoulder, pulling away as you sniffled — an obviously very convincing sign of totally not getting upset.

he snorted, “okay ma’am, don’t need the attitude — i’m just saying you can if you needed to.” he kept you at an arms length before he tilted your chin up again, causing you to roll your eyes and give him a sharp huff.

“gojo—!” you heard from around the corner. a high, stern voice interrupting the small bickering back and forth between you two. his hand faltered on your face, his thumb no longer brushing your cheek as your body tilted to the side only to find utahime walking in your line of sight. her eyebrows raised at the two of you, her mouth quirking to the side in shock as she sputtered, “not to ruin the moment but,” she shrugged slightly; a way of telling you indirectly, ‘it’s time.’

“few more minutes ‘hime, and i’ll be out.” he called out singsonging along as she walked away.

“don’t call me that,” she repeated in the same cadence, her voice collecting more distance the further she retreated — allowing you guys to have a moment before they prepare to go out.

satoru turned back towards you, his smirk growing wider as you looked away, your hand grabbing the one glued to your faced as you savored the warmth in between his fingers. “ah, there she is,” he teased, “my girl.”

“‘toru?”

he hummed, his hands squeezing yours. your eyes zipped up to his. “please,” you pouted at him, “be careful, yeah?”

he laughed as he shook his head in amusement. taking a few steps back, he extended both of your arms before ceremoniously letting go. “i think it’ll be okay — i am the strongest, after all,” gojo chuckled.

you managed a meager, bittersweet smile as you let out a wry laugh. no matter what kind of sounds left your lips, he always relished in them knowing only he could pull them out of you. whether it’s a small laugh, a full on abundance of giggles, whimpers along with your squirming about that he’d always tease you for; satoru never failed to appreciate them. even your groans of discomfort when he’d piss you off, all it took was some sweet talking and a trail of kisses along your jaw and he’d bounce back all sunshine and rainbows.

it wasn’t your voice or your body ( although those were major bonuses, might he have added ), and it wasn’t even the way you’d purse your lips to stop an embarrassed smile from painting itself on your face whenever he would make a stupid joke ( another thing he had loved about you ) — it was the fact that you saw him. he wasn’t the strongest when he was with you — he was ‘toru, only satoru.

he began to walk away, his shoes tapping against the hard floors as you watched his white robe flow behind him. you swallowed back a small whine at the back of your throat as you watched him leave; his hand about to slide the double doors open until you called for him once more. “satoru—?”

“huh?” he let out an airy laugh, mixed in with the syllable.

you put a hand on your hip, swallowing to try and moisten your dry throat. you let out an awkward laugh, ���i love you — so much.”

gojo put a hand to his mouth before sending it off with you as he blew you a dramatic air kiss. “i love you, always.”

and with that, he turned away; the door sliding open with a satisfying sound before it closed behind him. left alone, with your thoughts only growing louder. you couldn’t help but scrunch your eyes shut, your hand clutching your head as your fingers buried themselves under your hair.

behind that door, gojo stood as he took a deep breath. he had burned your face into his memory, his brain fading back into images of your eyes — so piercing, always searching into his own, whether that was for the better or worst remained unknown in both his and your mind. as always, you had come, you had seen, and you had loved.

as he walked out to where utahime and gakuganji were waiting, he couldn’t help but think about you. satoru gojo could be held down by anybody, with all of their might — and be stabbed with sharpest of swords and the strongest of curses, but he’d never stop loving you. because you had never stopped loving him. satoru gojo had never stopped being seen by you; for he wasn’t the strongest, merely satoru.

𐙚 taglist ; @seternic @sad-darksoul

𐙚 requests are open — june twenty second, 2024

[mapiforpresident]

may i request prompt 10 with emily fox where they both play for the uswnt, please? maybe they are rivals in chelsea vs arsenal? thank you!

Enemies No Longer

Emily Fox x reader

warnings: none

You and Emily Fox, two formidable forces on the pitch, had always shared an intense rivalry. As a striker for Chelsea, you were tasked with outmaneuvering Emily, the formidable defender for Arsenal and the US Women's National Soccer Team. Another reason you didn't like facing off with Emily is that you were both American, however you had yet to be called up to the national team. Match after match, you faced off against each other, each determined to lead your respective teams to victory.

But despite the animosity that simmered between you on the field, there was an undeniable chemistry that crackled in the air whenever you crossed paths. Emily's tenacity and skill challenged you in ways you hadn't experienced before, pushing you to become a better player with each encounter.

However, it wasn't until you received the call-up to the USWNT for the first time that your perspective began to shift. Suddenly, you found yourself thrust into the same team as Emily, your former rival now your teammate. As you trained together and shared the same locker room, you couldn't help but notice the subtle changes in your perception of her.

Gone was the annoyance and frustration that had colored your interactions on the pitch. In its place bloomed a newfound admiration for Emily's dedication and talent, as well as a growing sense of fondness that caught you off guard.

It started with simple gestures - a smile exchanged across the training ground, a shared laugh over a post-match meal. Slowly but surely, your feelings began to evolve, morphing from annoyance to something altogether more complex and profound.

As you spent more time together, you discovered shared interests and passions beyond the world of football. Conversations flowed easily between you, each one revealing new layers to Emily's personality that you hadn't previously seen. You found yourself drawn to her warmth, her kindness, and the unwavering support she offered both on and off the pitch.

And then, one day, it happened - a fleeting touch, a lingering glance, and suddenly, the truth was undeniable. You were falling for Emily Fox, your former rival turned teammate, in a way you had never imagined possible.

As you stood on the pitch together, side by side, preparing for another match, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation coursing through your veins. But this time, it wasn't just about the game. It was about the possibility of something more, something real and tangible that had blossomed between you despite all odds.

The final whistle blew, signaling the end of your first match with the USWNT. As you made your way off the field, your heart raced with a mix of exhilaration and nerves. But amidst the cheers and applause of the crowd, there was only one person you were searching for - Emily.

Spotting her near the sideline, you made your way over, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. She greeted you with a warm smile, her eyes sparkling with pride. "Great game out there," she said, her voice filled with genuine admiration.

"Thanks, Emily," you replied, your heart pounding in your chest. This was it - the moment you had been waiting for, the moment to finally lay your feelings bare.

Taking a deep breath, you reached out to take her hand, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through your veins. "There's something I need to tell you," you began, your voice steady despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Emily's expression softened, her gaze locking with yours in silent anticipation. "What is it?" she asked, her tone gentle and encouraging.

"I... I've realized something these past few weeks," you confessed, your words tumbling out in a rush. "Being on the same team as you, getting to know you beyond the rivalry... it's made me see things differently."

Emily listened intently, her hand squeezing yours in silent support. "Go on," she urged, her eyes never leaving yours.

"I... I've developed feelings for you, Emily," you admitted, the weight of the confession lifting from your shoulders. "More than just teammates, more than just friends. I... I think I'm in love with you."

For a moment, there was silence between you, the air thick with anticipation. Then, slowly but surely, a smile spread across Emily's face, radiant and genuine.

"I've been feeling the same way," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've tried to ignore it, to push it aside, but... I can't deny what's in my heart any longer."

With those words, the floodgates opened, and all the pent-up emotions and desires that had been simmering beneath the surface came rushing out. You found yourselves enveloped in each other's arms, the world around you fading away as you basked in the warmth of your newfound connection.

And as you stood there, lost in each other's embrace, you knew that this was just the beginning of a beautiful journey together - one that transcended the boundaries of rivalry and united you in a love that was stronger than anything you had ever known.

For on that fateful day, amidst the cheers and celebrations of your first USWNT match, you had not only emerged victorious on the field but also in matters of the heart. And as you looked into Emily's eyes, you knew that no matter what the future held, you would face it together, hand in hand, forever and always.

[anton-luvr]

hi ! can i request bf!eunseok giving fem!reader special treatment and friend group!riize realising it and teasing him about it ? thank youu <3

# ANYTHING FOR YOU.

⚝ bf!eunseok x fem!reader | fluff | highschool au, secret relationship au ⚝ note ; im so sorry that this took so long anon T_T im also not sure if its what you were hoping for, so im sorry if its not :') but thank u for requesting! <3

Along with the end of the year, comes final exams, last minute cleaning out your lockers, and of course - school parties.

And with your class being famous for throwing the best school parties, almost everyone in your year had crowded into your classroom.

Tables were pushed aside to make space, only leaving a few in the center for the best game of all - rock, paper, scissors.

But there was a twist, thanks to Sohee's genius but devious mind.

"Whoever loses has to drink my special drink!" he shouted across the noise, waving a plastic cup in the air.

It was definitely special with whatever the hell Sohee mixes in to it.

There was a combination of every soda in the room, along with a spoon of nacho cheese, a splash of chili sauce, dumplings stolen from Anton's lunch, pizza crumbs, and a concerning amount of pickles.

Not only did it smell disgusting, it also looked disgusting.

But hey, you only live once.

So here you were, up next after Wonbin to play the game against Sungchan, who had been winning five games in a row.

"Hey, are you sure?" Eunseok whispers, gently tugging you back towards him by the elbow.

"Yeah, why?" you ask, eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Well, don't get me wrong, but you usually lose in rock paper scissors." your boyfriend says sheepishly, laughing when you jokingly punch him in the stomach.

"I'll win this time, just watch." you boasted, practicing your skills by throwing random signs in his face to show just how prepared you were.

"Sure, you'll totally win." Eunseok teases, pinching your cheek lightly.

You'd punch him in the stomach again, but Sohee announces that it's now your turn.

"Wish me luck!" you squeal before walking up to the table, a determined smile on your lips.

"Ready to lose?" Sungchan asks, looking relaxed.

You scoff, stretching your hand out. "You should ask yourself that question." you retort, challenging him.

"Alright, Sungchan vs Y/N! Start!" Sohee shouts, making another cup of his special drink for the loser.

Things get intense the moment Sungchan starts the game off, the brown haired guy mumbling the chant before throwing out the sign of his choice.

You win the first two rounds, and sweet victory was just one more round away.

Until Sungchan won the following two rounds, the results of your game all relying on the final round.

Your lips are pursed together nervously, confidence slipping away as you try to focus harder.

"Rock, paper, scissors... shoot!" he shouts, and you throw a scissor sign.

Sungchan throws out a rock sign at the same time, instantly winning over you while everyone screamed in surprise and disappointment.

Dread fills your chest when you realize you have to drink Sohee's special drink, the boy already making his way over to you with the cursed plastic cup in his hands.

"Chug! Chug! Chug!" the crowd cheers as you take the cup from Sohee, shifting nervously on your feet.

You peer cautiously into the cup to see a marshmallow from god knows where floating above the greyish-brown liquid, a smear of chili sauce at the side while a bittersweet smell hit your nostrils.

"I added more things! Enjoy!" Sohee sings out before joining in with the crowd to cheer you on.

All you can do is sigh and take a deep breath, eyes closing shut to prepare yourself for the mess you got yourself into.

But the cup has barely touched your lips when you feel someone snatching it right out of your hands, and your eyes fly open to see Eunseok downing it all in one go.

The crowd cheers even louder, screams of 'That's so sweet!' and 'He's so cool!' bouncing off the walls.

You're still blinking in shock as he sets the cup down on the table, wiping at his lips with the back of his hand.

"Not bad." he says casually, shrugging.

The crowd just about loses it at this, and you see people shoving Sohee around and telling him to amp up on the next drink.

"No, no, wait!" he shrieks, waving his arms around for everyone to shut up.

"Why'd you drink it for her? She was going to drink it." he asks, eyebrows raised suspiciously at his best friend.

Eunseok freezes with an awkward smile, face slowly turning red as he tries to come up with an explanation.

"I-I just wanted to try it. That's all." he coughs, eyes glued to the floor.

"Really?" Seunghan butts in, smirking at the both of you. "You and Y/N are starting to look like the fire hydrant outside."

"Well, it's hot in here!" you protest, fanning at your flushed face.

"Yeah, and the drink might make her sick!" Eunseok adds.

The crowd lets out an amused 'Ooooh!' at this, and it's Shotaro's turn to say something.

"Don't you think the drink might've made Wonbin sick too? But you didn't drink it for him. What, are the both of you dating?" he teases, giggling.

"Well, so what if we are?" You blurt.

Eunseok turns to look at you so fast, you could hear a small snap go off in his neck.

Everyone starts screaming at this, the noise making you wince.

"You are?" Anton repeats, eyes wide with surprise. "You're capable of love after all!" he cheers, patting Eunseok on the back.

His face turns impossibly redder as he smiles, scratching the back of his head.

"I knew it! I always knew something was going on between the both of them!" Sohee screeches, running over to squeeze Eunseok in a hug.

"Alright, stop bothering them!" Sungchan hollers, knowing the unwanted attention was probably making the both of you slightly uncomfortable. "Who's next?"

He successfully diverts everyone's attention back to the game, and you let out a sigh of relief when the both of you are left alone.

"I'm so sorry about that, I didn't mean to shout it out like that and I was just surprised because you drank it, and I was-"

Eunseok cuts off your ramble with a kiss to the lips, strong and passionate.

"Don't worry about it," he whispers, smiling softly at you as he tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear. "It's about time they knew anyway."

His words make your heart race, and you can't help but avoid his intense stare.

"W-Wasn't the drink bad?" you stuttered, trying to change the topic.

He shrugs again, slowly backing you against a corner of the wall.

"It was fine." he says, so close that you could feel his breath against your lips.

"I'd do anything for you." he whispers, and he presses his lips right against yours.

The fact that there are almost a hundred of other people in the room with you fades out of your mind at the feeling of his lips, so warm and so soft but so aggressive at the same time.

It would be embarrassing if you got caught, but as long as it was with your lovely boyfriend, you wouldn't mind.

He'd do anything for you, and you'd do anything for him too.

© anton-luvr, 2023.

taglist: @wonbons @mxlly143 @keehobaldboy @shawyle @yenart

[silantryoo]

BONUS [ LIKEALOOK ] — around sounds nice

FINALS: Seoul's Univeristy of Multi-Arts (SUMA) VS. Yonsei University

WARNINGS ; suggestive(ish), mentions of revenge p*rn (4.1k)

for the first time in a while, jang wonyoung was excited to play volleyball.

it was an odd feeling, in retrospect. volleyball, at least for the past three or so years, weighed on her back like her last name. it was full of expectations, of goals that she didn't set (or was forced to, anyway).

it was suffocating, humiliating. the sport that proved her comfort, that provided her safety, was one of the causes of her stress as of late.

yet suddenly, now that yoo jimin was out of the picture...

wonyoung was glad that the locker room didn't seem like a battlefield anymore.

"i see the hickeys haven't faded." yujin snickered, her face now littered in fading bruises, and the cut on her eyebrow and lip healing nicely.

wonyoung blushed. as much as she hated jimin, part of her wished that she would pop up to shut yujin up.

"do you have to mention that every time?"

her fingers traced over the marks on her neck, wonyoung's face burning as she remembered the hours with y/n, alone in her dorm room. she knew it was a goodbye, the older girl's fleeting touches a reminder of y/n's worsening mental state, and wonyoung's inability to do anything.

wonyoung shook her head. now wasn't the right time, not when yonsei was here.

yujin nodded as if what wonyoung said was already a known fact. "absolutely."

"you shouldn't even be talking to me, unnie." wonyoung mumbled. "coach said no talking with the members."

yujin pouted, slumping down next to gaeul who was currently listening to her pregame playlist. the taller girl wrapped her arm around her girlfriend, trying not to sulk.

she knew that she was single-minded. all of her thoughts were about volleyball and gaeul. although she finally got to talk to her girlfriend again, yujin was dying to play.

besides, she was the captain.

"well," she huffed, gaeul rubbing her back to calm her down. "coach said me and jimshit can sit on the bench today, so i think i'm off probation."

wonyoung shook her head as she laced up her shoes. "is that what you told gaeul-unnie?"

yujin sulked more, and wonyoung couldn't help but wonder how gaeul managed to put up with her for her entire probation.

(wonyoung always seemed to have found yujin outside the building right after practices, quite literally kicking rocks.)

the door swung open, coach seulgi glancing around as the girls huddled. everyone knew who she was looking for, a certain raven-haired, rage-fueled demon nowhere to be found.

seulgi knew what to expect. the season was tough on her star players and the inner conflict between her team, but she hoped that jimin was still that girl she had heard about so long ago.

after all, she accepted this position to work with yoo 'the ace of korea' jimin.

"girls," she smacked her coach board as she sat, garnering their attention. "i know you all probably have nerves, especially since two of our players are gone-"

"nothing we haven't dealt with before, coach seul." yena puffed out her chest, and everyone could see the uncanny resemblance between her and a certain semi-aquatic bird.

"don't call me that." seulgi shook her head, watching as chaeryeong hit yena's shoulder. "look, we've played against yonsei. we know that they're the only team this year that has a good roster with great plays and a good coach. we've went through their playbook, their rotations, and i know we're down two, but we have something they don't have."

jinsol's hand shot up in the air, an aura of seriousness clouding her. "the power of friendship?"

hikaru, thankfully, lowered the taller girl's hand.

"do any of us look like colorful horses?" hanni couldn't believe that jinsol was her best friend.

"they were ponies, actually." haewon interrupted, her voice monotone. the words flew out of her mouth, but the stares of her teammates made it register almost immediately. "what?"

like usual, seulgi ignored them. she was used to their liveliness, anyway. "we have resilience. we have brains and brawn."

yunjin pointed to her left. "jinsol has a 2.0 gpa."

"enough about my gpa."

"don't let your nerves get to you out there, okay?" seulgi scolded, pointing at all of them (but more specifically, wonyoung). "i know it's easier said than done, but you need to look out for each other. remember that it's my job to yell, and yours to play."

"aye, aye, coach."

seulgi rolled her eyes, yena's voice loud and clear. she was gonna miss the older girl, but she hoped that this year, she'd pass her classes so seulgi would never have to see her again.

that is, unless yena decided to pursue volleyball beyond university.

a shiver went down her spine.

shaking the thought off, her gaze moved to wonyoung. her eyebrow raised at the faded marks on her neck, but the coach was just glad that wonyoung had enough decency to try to hide it (unlike other members on the team).

"any words for us, cap?"

wonyoung looked at yujin, who stared back at her. she frowned and looked around the room before remembering that she was the fill-in.

"oh." she cleared her throat. wonyoung wracked her brain for anything she could think of, but she was never the leading type. she never understood how yujin could do it so effortlessly. "um, i know this year has been hard for us, more than others... but we've gotten this far. even if we don't win, we've learned from this. our team is smarter than theirs, stronger."

she didn't think they would win. they needed yujin, and although she hated to admit it, they needed jimin. aside from herself, they had lost the top two scorers on their team. they had lost yujin, their all-rounder, and jimin, their star player. sure, yunjin was back, but with her being out for sixty percent of the season, it wasn't enough.

yonsei had everyone. they had the fifth and eighth-ranked hitters on their team, and a competent setter with an amazing playbook. their defense, from what she remembered last game, was near impenetrable. even their coach was an olympian, much like seulgi.

they had barely won, and that was with yujin and jimin.

yet with all the odds stacked against wonyoung, she couldn't help but feel excited for what was to come.

with a soft smile, wonyoung spoke.

"it's a win either way for me."

y/n thought the drums during the last suma versus yonsei game was bad, but somehow, this was so much worse.

everything was brighter, louder than before. the crowd littered with painted faces, a distinguishable divide between red and blue. the signs were bigger this time, and from where she stood, she could see at least a dozen shirtless men on the yonsei stands.

('what's wrong, suma? scared? jealous?')

behind her, loud yells could be heard, chants of 'vicky' and 'yawnsei' being shoved into her ears. y/n didn't mind the 'yawnsei' part. in fact, if she weren't so busy dying from overheating, she'd join in.

she just wished those stupid 'vicky' fangirls would stop chanting wonyoung's name over and over again.

the lights dimmed, the first few players coming out, wonyoung being one of them.

suddenly, the shrieking got louder, and y/n couldn't help but roll her eyes.

she was thankful for uchinaga aeri, and y/n was genuinely excited to sit next to wonyoung's long-time friend. aeri was caring and was the reason why y/n was even functioning at this point.

she just wished aeri didn't pick a spot close to the 'vicky' fanclub, even if her friend was in the group.

y/n took a sip of her water, her eyes never leaving wonyoung's figure.

she couldn't help but smile as the volleyball player looked her way. it quickly faded, however, the fan club behind her suddenly begging for wonyoung's hand in marriage.

y/n grumbled. "so annoying."

aeri and alex glanced at each other, their eyes meeting knowingly.

aeri snickered, nudging the young actress. "you only think they're annoying because they're holding cardboard cutouts of your girlfriend."

"no!" y/n tried to deny it as best as she could, but she knew her face betrayed her. it didn't help that she remembered some random girl with a 'vicky' necklace.

she took a breath, the atmosphere of the gym heightening her already intense emotions for wonyoung. y/n didn't have a right of feel this way, to act as if her love meant something when she herself didn't mean anything to wonyoung anymore.

"she's not my girlfriend."

still, wonyoung was a past that y/n would live over and over again if she could.

yuri, who hadn't been listening much to whatever the hell was going on, scanned the team as they gathered at the bench. she could see yujin clear as day. the girl looked taut, obviously frustrated but keeping sane.

"damn it." yuri groaned, fishing out a thousand won bill. "jimin's not on the bench."

"told you that ass wouldn't show." alex took the bill out of yuri's hand, smirking lightly as she high-fived aeri.

"wait a second." chaewon took a closer look at wonyoung, noticing some... odd shadows. "are those hickeys on wonyoung's neck?"

all of them: rei, jiwon, yuri, minju, chaewon, alex, and aeri, glanced at y/n. most of them already knew what happened, being told one way or another. it was just funny to focus on the evidence instead of the truth.

"what?" y/n covered her neck. it felt hot, a blush creeping up. "what?"

minju rolled her eyes, turning her gaze back onto the sea of blue. she was proud of y/n decision. it just took her by surprise that the younger girl wasn't jumping at the chance to get back with wonyoung.

ever since she's known y/n, she was always wonyoung's. her l/n y/n. minju's impression never changed, even when y/n was with jimin.

the stands across from them moved in unison. it looked like an optical illusion, their blue shirts, sweaters, and face paint making it hard to distinguish one from another. the only thing minju could differentiate from the crowd was the cutouts of the yonsei players.

the crowd moved to stand as yonsei's captain began to speak.

almost immediately, minju's eyes shot to the top left, a hidden corner that no one would notice. that is, if they stood up.

minju nudged yuri from beside her, gesturing to where she was looking at.

they could see it, them. a pair of bored, hatred-filled eyes stared into the court, into wonyoung while another scoured through suma's stands, searching for something.

jiwon followed their gaze, landing on the couple(?).

"is that jimin?"

rei rubbed her shoulder as the younger kim flinched at her own words, not used to the lack of formality. it wasn't that jimin deserved respect, of course not. she knew that jiwon was too nice for her own good.

maybe that's why she loved her so much.

"with her hand on minjeong's waist? yeah." yuri muttered, huddling closer to the kim's and away from y/n. she didn't want to remind her of jimin, after all. "that freak is insane."

minju looked at her girlfriend, the reminders of what she and jimin did lingering. she told no one what she woke up to the night after they confronted minjeong. she didn't even tell chaewon.

even though she deleted it, the videos were still engrained in her mind. it was a copious amount of videos, all of which she watched through.

she knew that her and chaewon weren't together then. minju knew they had technically broken up. yet, as irrational as it was, she just wanted chaewon to wait for her to get better.

she shook her head. minju didn't want to think about that, but would rather listen to her girlfriend's conversation.

"so," chaewon smiled at y/n. sue her for being nosy. "since you and wonyoung have matching love bites, i'm guessing that means you two are back together?"

"no." y/n shook her head. "we aren't."

"huh?" yuri's head perked up. y/n, like always, never updated the group chat when she needed to. granted, yuri was throwing every threat under the sun at minjeong at any given moment, but she would've paused to catch up with her friends. "that's stupid as hell."

minju elbowed her. "yuri."

"what?" yuri glared at her friend. "those idiots love each other."

y/n burned a bright red once more. her love was plain as day, as clear as snow. it burned proudly, even to the point where it was willing to consume anyone in its way.

"it was my decision." y/n wasn't gonna let it burn wonyoung, not if she could help it. "i wasn't gonna put wonyoung through all my hurt."

"you two could've worked through it, like me and yena."

"maybe." y/n looked onto the court, smiling as wonyoung goofed off. she hadn't been like that since the beginning of freshman year. "but i'd rather miss her than hurt her, even if it's by accident."

minju looked at chaewon.

oh.

wonyoung didn't know how long that stupid ball had been up in the air.

it hadn't even reached the first kill, yet somehow, yonsei had managed to get a rally going. their libero had managed to barely receive chaeryeong's jump serve, giving suma a free ball.

gaeul immediately knew that wonyoung wanted it. she could feel her demeanor change, but it was something she's never seen before. it was ravenous, just like jimin had been. wonyoung seemed to have the sharpness that she's always lacked, the ferocity.

yet this was different from jimin's.

the ace was bound by her rage. her obsession with being the yoo jimin, of having something to prove to her dad everyone weighed on her like chains.

wonyoung seemed free.

gaeul set the ball.

it was too high. her nerves got to her. the lack of yujin's presence, of her lover and of her captain, got to her. she felt it the moment the leather left her fingertips, her arms too taut. the numbness turned cold as her fingers buzzed.

still, wonyoung somehow managed to reach it.

the ball rocketed, nearly straight down. it hurled and before wonyoung could blink, yonsei's libero managed to get under it, tossing it up into the air.

another free ball, in favor of suma.

yet again, they did the same thing. this time, gaeul had set up yunjin.

received again.

a setter dump.

received again... and again, and again.

suma couldn't keep the energy up, and soon, by sheer exhaustion, the ball was spiked out of bounds by wonyoung herself.

she could practically hear jimin taunting her in the crowd as the whistle blew. the chants to her left got louder, the sea of blue ridiculing her.

wonyoung took a breath.

they weren't losing too badly.

after the first set went to yonsei, suma managed to bounce back with two in a row. although close, 25-23 and 27-25 respectively, a win was still a win.

unfortunately, yonsei had switched to a different setup. from all the footage they had watched, yonsei had never fully committed all their best defensive players at one time until now. they had always been known for their attack, even with their amazing defense.

they had managed to lock wonyoung down, always ensuring that three blockers were in front of her at all times. somehow, they jumped higher than before, but that only meant one thing to wonyoung.

she had to jump higher.

still, it took an entire set to adjust, to find her rhythm once more.

2-2, suma and yonsei tied.

wonyoung listened to the ball as one of the yonsei players (one she's sure gaeul had hooked up with multiple times) dribbled, getting ready to serve. the outside hitter glanced at the score, sweat dripping down her neck.

29-30, in favor of yonsei.

she glanced back onto the ball, digging her feet into the ground as a loud smack permeated the crowded gym. wonyoung's heart was pumping, her nerves somehow more tired than her legs.

the ball went over her head, straight into haewon's arms. she could see the bruises starting to form on her teammate's forearms.

she felt sluggish, yet she still took a step back. her feet were firmly placed on the attack line, arms back and ready to jump.

gaeul, despite the soreness accumulating in her shoulders, set wonyoung a bit higher than usual. she knew that she could reach it, that she was willing to. wonyoung wasn't gonna go down without a fight, even if that meant ripping her muscles apart.

wonyoung slams her hand onto the ball, feeling it rip through yonsei's trembling hands.

it was perfect, it should've been, but that stupid libero, the one that always seemed to bait out wonyoung's most powerful spikes, reaches out for it. it barely touches her flat hand on the ground, sending the ball flying on the very edge of the net.

both sides watch as it threatens to fall. both sides pray for a break, for a second to gather their thoughts. they want - need - it to drop on the other side.

the ball tips, and everyone scrambles to get it up.

but they were too tired.

the whistle blows, and a heaviness enters wonyoung.

29-31.

she'd never tell the girls, but wonyoung had fun losing.

of course, she'd prefer to win. all the pain and hard work made it worth it, and she would've loved to hold the trophy up with her teammates. sure, it would've been made of cheap plastic, but at least it was shiny.

still, the lack of expectation: a place without her parents' watchful eyes, without yoo jimin hounding her for every mistake she made...

wonyoung had forgotten how fun volleyball could be.

(she also forgot how emotional it could get. an example: hanni currently crying in the change room as coach seulgi tried to console her.)

wonyoung stepped out of victor's hall, trying to ignore the stares that some of the suma body was giving her.

"unnie!"

wonyoung turned around, a slightly shorter girl, one with the same smile as her, approached. she carried a baby blue banner, her face plastered onto it haphazardly.

'go wonyoung-unnie!'

she smiled, waving at the older woman with puppy dog eyes that followed behind her.

"hyunseo." wonyoung hugged the younger girl, warmth spreading through her chest. "you came."

hyunseo nodded, waving her arms animatedly. "yeojin-unnie managed to convince our parents as long as she gives me a good word to snu's dean."

"of course they did." wonyoung smiled at yujin's sister. "hi, unnie."

"hey." yeojin patted her shoulder. it was weird seeing wonyoung look so grown up. "great game, wonyoung. i'm sorry that you lost."

surprisingly, wonyoung wasn't as upset as she thought she would have been. she was used to the guilt and incompetence brewing in her stomach, but whether it was the joy of her baby sister watching or the fact that she was still reeling from the goodbye with y/n, wonyoung didn't know.

"it's okay." the volleyball player shrugged, ruffling hyunseo's hair. hyunseo pushed her off. "we would've won if the circumstances were different."

"yeah, if yujin wasn't getting in random fights." yeojin couldn't believe her little sister. "where is that loser anyway?"

"with her girlfriend."

yeojin paused. yujin never mentioned a girlfriend before.

"she didn't tell you?" wonyoung tilted her head as she wiped her face. "gaeul-unnie-"

"kim gaeul?!" yeojin's eyes widened. her nearly failing, jock of a sister was dating the daughter of two of the most renowned lawyers in korea? "how the hell did yujin manage to pull her? she's got the brain of a mutt! yujin's gonna water down her brain cells!"

wonyoung didn't want to agree (but deep down she did). "yujin-unnie's gotten better, i think."

"whatever." yeojin shook her head. "where are they?"

she blushed, not wanting to think about the fact that they were most likely in some stall a mere ten meters away from them.

"just, um..." wonyoung cleared her throat. "give them a moment to themselves."

"oh."

hyunseo looked at her older sister curiously before wonyoung shook her head. hyunseo was bound to learn it in school if she hadn't already, wonyoung was not about to teach her.

"wonnie."

wonyoung spun around at the speed of light. her brain registered the voice before she did, but she didn't mind. she'd never pass up an opportunity to not speak to y/n.

"y/nnie?" wonyoung grinned, her heart fluttering. "hey."

she wondered throughout the game whether y/n was watching. after all, she had never missed one of wonyoung's games. granted, she was dating someone on the team, but wonyoung had the right to be a little delusional.

it didn't help much now, though. they both knew it was over (for now).

"you played amazing." y/n handed her an ice pack. "for your knee."

some things never changed.

"right." wonyoung grabbed it gently, awkwardly holding it as hyunseo pushed past her.

"y/n-unnie!"

hyunseo had met y/n a couple of times, wonyoung introducing her as her 'friend'. she wasn't stupid, she saw the heart eyes they gave each other, and the subtle hand holding.

"hi, hyunnie." y/n squeezed her lightly, pulling back. last year, hyunseo was only a centimeter taller than her. now, she was nearly wonyoung's height. "wow... you've gotten tall."

"i have." hyunseo smirked, glancing at her older sister. wonyoung rolled her eyes. "the doctors say i'll be taller than wonyoung-unnie one day."

"i can see it."

the actress glanced at wonyoung. even after everything, y/n couldn't help but notice how adorable the taller girl was.

"hyunseo, me and y/n are gonna talk, okay?" wonyoung looked at yeojin for help, the older ahn nodding and ushering hyunseo away. "i'll meet you guys out front after."

"okay."

hyunseo gave her one last hug before wonyoung moved her and y/n back into victor's hall.

y/n stared at the ice pack, the athlete leaning against the wall as it melted in her hands.

"you played well," she whispered, fiddling with her fingers.

"you say that every time." wonyoung could feel the water forming inside the bag, albeit slowly. "we lost, y'know?"

she didn't know what she was talking about anymore, but it certainly didn't feel like it was volleyball.

"i know." y/n smiled, and she felt as if this was the last time she would ever smile at wonyoung. "but that's not on you. you did your best."

her best didn't get her the girl back.

no matter how hard she tried, so many things were out of her power. she didn't have control of how people perceived her, of how people felt about her. she couldn't control her teammates' conditions, nor their injuries.

in some way or another, she was always gonna be imperfect.

"did i?"

she hoped that somewhere in the future, she could live with it.

"you did." y/n was always so sure of her. she never doubted wonyoung in the ways she doubted herself. "you did amazing. you're amazing."

the actress looked into her eyes, watching her as if she were an old video. a tape that she finally found once more after months of searching.

the air tasted bittersweet. it smelt stale, and sweat clung to both their backs like the lingering hope they both felt for the future, for them.

it was familiar, wonyoung's red sweater, y/n's loving smile.

maybe wonyoung needed a break from familiarity, too.

"y/nnie, why are you here?" her voice came out scratchy, her throat parched from both nervousness and exhaustion. "i thought you said no to us dating again."

the ice pack continued to melt, wonyoung's hand stinging so cold that it felt warm. the trophy case reflected her image, her eyes clear as they looked back at her.

her gaze moved back to y/n, tiredness tingling up her spine.

she was sure y/n could feel it too.

"i just wanted to cheer you on one more time." for the last time, they both knew. "give you ice for old times' sake."

wonyoung felt something different wash over her. it wasn't heartbreak, she had felt that before, nor was it love.

it felt like... gratitude. that wonyoung was grateful for y/n, for teaching her how love felt like. for hurting her, for loving her, for hating her.

it felt like the end.

"thank you for the ice, y/nnie." wonyoung smiled. "i'll see you around?"

"around sounds nice."

masterlist | next

taglist (CLOSED)!!

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[jeffhardyjams]

“Passion Behind The Curtains” ❦ - JEFF HARDY X READER

(𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 -2,004)

Description: In the high-stakes world of WWE, Y/N and Jeff Hardy share a passionate moment after her intense Bra vs. Panties match, leading them to the steamy back room showers, where their deep emotions and undeniable chemistry come to light.

imagine : ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

WWF RAW 10.23.2002

𝄞 - headlock - imogen heap

---

It was 2002, and the arena was buzzing with excitement. The crowd roared as Y/N stood backstage, adjusting her colorful attire, reminiscent of Jeff Hardy's flamboyant style. Her heart raced with anticipation for the upcoming Bra vs. Panties match. She was set to team up with Trish Stratus, but her mind kept drifting to Jeff, her flirty yet feisty rival.

"Hey, Y/N, ready to lose some clothes tonight?" Jeff teased, leaning against the wall with a smirk.

"Only if you promise to pick up the pieces, Jeff," Y/N shot back, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Trish Stratus walked over, giving Y/N a supportive smile. "Don't let him get to you. We've got this."

The match was intense, with Y/N and Trish giving their all. The crowd went wild as Y/N managed to strip Trish down to her bra, securing the victory. She stood in the ring, her red bra visible, feeling a mix of triumph and exhilaration.

Backstage, as her music played, Y/N took a deep breath and headed outside for a smoke break. She spotted Shawn Michaels and struck up a conversation, their laughter echoing in the cool night air.

Jeff's eyes narrowed as he watched from a distance, jealousy bubbling up inside him. He stormed off and found Trish, pulling her into a heated kiss in one of the back rooms.

Y/N's heart sank when she stumbled upon them. "Seriously, Jeff? This is how you deal with things?"

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and headed to a nearby bar. She needed a drink, and fast.

Jeff followed her, his frustration evident. They sat down and ordered drinks, the tension between them palpable.

"You can't just go around flirting with everyone, Y/N," Jeff snapped, taking a swig of his beer.

"And you can't just make out with Trish to make me jealous," Y/N retorted, her eyes flashing with anger.

The argument escalated, but as the drinks flowed, their anger gave way to something else. Y/N decided enough was enough and they needed to be part ways.

---

The tension between Y/N and Jeff was palpable the next day, their every interaction charged with unspoken feelings. They tried to keep their distance, but the chemistry was undeniable. Stolen glances and secret smiles became their new normal.

One night, after an especially grueling match, Y/N found herself alone in the locker room, nursing a bruise on her shoulder. The pain was sharp, but she was used to it. What she wasn't used to was the emotional turmoil swirling inside her.

Jeff walked in, his eyes immediately softening when he saw her. "Hey, you okay?" he asked, concern lacing his voice.

Y/N looked up, trying to muster a smile. "Just a bruise. Nothing I can't handle."

Jeff frowned, grabbing an ice pack from the freezer. "Let me help," he said, walking over and gently pressing it against her shoulder.

Y/N winced at the cold, but the relief was immediate. "Thanks," she murmured, her voice softer than she intended.

Jeff's hand lingered on her shoulder, his touch both soothing and electrifying. "You don't have to do this alone, you know," he said, his voice low and sincere.

Y/N's heart ached with the weight of his words. "Sometimes, I feel like I don't belong here," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Like I'm out of place."

Jeff's expression softened even more. "You belong, Y/N. You're one of the best fighters out there. And more than that, you're... you're important to me."

Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting his. "Jeff, this is so complicated. We have a job to do, and feelings... they just get in the way."

Jeff sighed, his frustration evident. "I know it's complicated. But we can't just ignore this. Ignore us."

Y/N shook her head, trying to hold back tears. "I don't know how to make this work. Every time I think about it, I just get more confused."

Jeff moved closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "Then let's figure it out together. We don't have to have all the answers right now. We just need to take it one step at a time."

Y/N's resolve wavered, the sincerity in Jeff's eyes breaking down her walls. "What if we mess everything up?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

Jeff took her hand, his grip firm and reassuring. "Then we pick up the pieces together. But I can't keep pretending like you don't mean everything to me."

Y/N felt a tear slip down her cheek. "Okay," she said softly. "Let's try to make this work."

Jeff smiled, a mix of relief and hope in his eyes. "One step at a time," he repeated, squeezing her hand gently.

---

The atmosphere between Y/N and Jeff was electric, the air thick with unspoken words and emotions. Jeff's hand still held Y/N's, his thumb gently caressing her knuckles.

"One step at a time," he repeated softly, his eyes locked onto hers.

Y/N took a deep breath, feeling the intensity of the moment. She knew what was coming, and she didn't want to stop it anymore. Slowly, she leaned in, her eyes fluttering shut as their lips met in a tender, yet passionate kiss. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in that moment.

Jeff's hand moved to the back of Y/N's neck, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened. The ice pack forgotten, their bodies pressed together, the heat between them undeniable. Y/N's hands found their way to Jeff's chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath her fingertips.

As the kiss broke, they both gasped for air, their foreheads resting against each other. "We should... we should go somewhere more private," Jeff whispered, his voice husky with desire.

Y/N nodded, unable to form words. Jeff took her hand, leading her towards the back room showers. The corridor was dimly lit, the sound of their footsteps echoing off the walls. When they reached the showers, Jeff pushed the door open, pulling Y/N inside.

The room was steamy, the sound of water dripping echoing softly. Jeff turned to Y/N, his eyes filled with a mix of longing and tenderness. "Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N smiled, her heart pounding in her chest. "I've never been more sure," she replied, her voice steady.

With that, Jeff closed the distance between them, capturing her lips in another searing kiss. The steam from the showers enveloped them, adding to the intensity of the moment. Jeff's hands roamed over Y/N's body, exploring every curve and contour as their kiss grew more urgent.

Y/N's fingers tangled in Jeff's hair, pulling him closer as the heat between them built. The world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the two of them, lost in their own world of passion and desire.

---

[roses-for-rosalyn]

what if abby's father and the reader's father were friends and the like to hangout and play tennis a lot ; one day jerry anderson tries to convince his daughter to play a game with him, his friend and his daughter (reader) who has just returned home after two years of travelling ;

both girls accept their father's invitation! then the big day arrives and abby finds herself in front of reader in her pretty tennis set (and maybe something could happen in the locker room, after a heated match 👀)

I'm baaaack!

Sorry this took me so incredibly long it's been a weird few weeks. I hope I did your idea justice, she's a long one.

word count: 3.3k

content warnings: enemies to lovers, mean, competitive Abby, thigh riding, fem! reader, oral (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), overstimulation, dirty talk, modern au where Abby's dad isn't dead obvi, no use of y/n

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

You were sitting at your kitchen counter sipping on a glass of ice water and gazing out the window, watching the summer breeze rattle the trees. It had been a few weeks since you’d gotten back from Europe, but ice still felt like a luxury. Europe was so beautiful and you wouldn’t trade it for anything, but after a few years you started to yearn for air conditioning, cold water and disgusting greasy fried food. Your first bite of a McChicken back in the states was orgasmic. 

You also missed your family, your dad would call you every other day and talk about his day in incredible detail. He joined a country club and got into tennis while you were gone, he even made a few friends. You were especially happy about that because you were worried about him getting lonely while you were gone. You didn’t want him rotting in an empty house while you went out and traveled the world. Even though your dad’s days were mundane and repetitive you just liked listening to him talk. His voice was the only thing that could dull the feeling of homesickness. 

The front door opening pulls you out of your thoughts. Your dad walks in clearly having just got back from the country club, he was dressed head to toe in tennis gear including a visor. You can’t help but giggle at how stupid and preppy he looks. You didn’t exactly grow up going to country clubs, and dressing in brand name clothes. Luckily your dad had gotten a new job so he could splurge on himself. It made you happy to watch him treat himself for the first time in his life. 

“What? Why are you laughing at me?” He looks up and down checking his clothes for stains or any wardrobe malfunctions. 

“Nothing, you just look a little funny dressed in your tennis uniform. Not exactly used to you in country club attire.” You smile as he acts mock offended. 

“I think it suits me, thank you very much.” He dramatically marches over to the fridge to fill up his water bottle. He’s really not gonna let go of this.

“You’re right, you were born to wear exclusively Vineyard Vines and sip wine on the balcony of your third beach house.” You say with a smirk. 

“Sounds pretty nice to me.” He smiles and leans on the counter across from you. 

He hesitates before saying “I’ve been meaning to invite you to play with me and Jerry, I think you’d have fun, it’ll be like the good old days on your high school tennis team. You’d probably deeply humble both of us.” Jerry was your dad’s best friend right now, one of the first people that welcomed him into the country club. 

“Dad, I haven’t played tennis in three years I don’t kn-” 

“Jerry said he’d bring his daughter too. She also used to play a lot of sports in high school. We could do father daughter teams or daughters vs fathers. It’ll be fun.” He sounds so excited, you would feel way too guilty turning him down at this point. 

“Ok, ok. Have you met his daughter? Is she like.. Nice?” You didn’t want to have to fake getting along with her for your dad’s sake, if you were being honest you would probably end up doing that anyway. Your dad wasn’t exactly good at finding you friends. 

“Yes, she’s incredibly nice, and respectful. She’s a few years older than you, about 25 I think, and she works for a construction company.” He pauses trying to recollect the little information he knows about his friend’s daughter. “She’s so strong I’m pretty sure she could pick me up bridal style.” Your dad laughs at his own joke, but now you are a little nervous. It’s starting to sink in that your dad essentially set up a playdate for you with an incredibly buff woman. You just hope you don’t end up noticeably ogling at her, maybe you’ll get lucky and she’ll be incredibly mean.   

You woke up bright and early the next morning, your dad bribed you with a fancy breakfast before the match. The food was delicious, but you couldn’t stop your nervous movements, constantly tapping your fingers or feet. Your dad noticed and reassured you there was no reason to be nervous, and that there’s no pressure. To be honest your nerves weren’t completely because you were out of practice. Meeting new people always made you anxious, especially when it was arranged like this. There was an unspoken expectation for everyone to get along and enjoy themselves and you liked to keep your expectations low. 

Before you knew it you and your dad were walking to the tennis courts. Your dad noticed you were starting to get all up in your head.

“Hey, loosen up kiddo this will be fun, if it’s not you let me know and we can leave. I’ll just tell them I’m not feeling well and we can get ice cream. Jerry will understand.” He messes with your hair a bit and you feel mildly relieved. 

Once you get to the tennis court all of the relief you felt drained from your body, immediately replaced with pure anxiety. As you walk onto the smooth green court you see a middle aged brunette man, no doubt that was Jerry, and a tall strong blonde standing next to him. She towered over him, every muscle chiseled to perfection by what must have been some higher power. As you got closer you could see her biceps straining against her blue t-shirt, her thighs were barely visible, but from what you could see they were just as muscular as her arms. You were beginning to ogle when you’re snapped out of it from the sound of your dad greeting Jerry. Your dad shakes hands with Jerry and Abby and you begin to do the same. Abby’s blue eyes pierced right through you, a neutral expression adorning her face. She was incredibly intimidating considering she could clearly snap you in two. You shake Jerry’s hand “I’ve heard so much about you, hope you still remember your stuff from high school. Your dad and I have gotten pretty good.” 

You smile and reply “It’s been a while, but I’m sure I’ll warm up in no time!” You liked to stay humble, but honestly you were pretty good at tennis. You had won a lot of games and you were one of the best on the team. You didn’t talk about it much though because you were self aware enough to know literally no one cares about tennis. You were also as a result extremely competitive so you were hoping you would be able to tone it down in order to not scare your dad’s friend away. 

You move to shake Abby’s hand “I’m Abby, nice to finally meet you.” From her tone you would have assumed she thought it was indeed not very nice to meet you. But you nod and smile as her calloused hand engulfs yours. You can’t help but notice how warm her skin is to the touch and how large her hands are. 

She was incredibly attractive. 

“Alrighty you guys ready for an ass whoopin?” Jerry jests. 

“You bet.” Your dad replies. 

You and your dad make your way to the other side of the net and get into your ready positions. Abby serves the ball first and her swing was strong, but it was no match for your speed. You quickly learned the harder Abby hit the ball the louder she would grunt, so naturally you attempted to rile her up further. You would smirk arrogantly at her every time you and your dad gained a point, and take an extra long time getting ready to serve on the rare occasion she and Jerry would score a point. You and your dad rack up points quickly and the blonde was growing visibly frustrated. She was starting to hit the ball even harder, her jaw was clenched and her expression was so serious. It was adorable. 

Eventually Jerry calls for a break and sits on one of the benches with you dad, leaving you to sit with Abby. Alone. 

You sit down next to her on the wooden bench and start sipping from your water bottle. She does the same and you sit in silence for a bit. You notice the sweat on her brow and how her shirt is starting to stick to her skin. You can almost make out her abdominal muscles through the thin blue fabric. 

“I’m not usually this bad at sports, not used to losing.” Abby says, looking straight ahead. You can’t help but smile at her discontent, she seems just as competitive as you.

“I’m sure your strong muscles get you pretty far in most sports, but apparently tennis is not one of them, especially when you're up against an expert like me.” You say trying to joke around to lighten her mood.

“I wouldn’t classify a varsity tennis player as an expert, but okay.” She says with a smug look, still not facing you. She definitely did not understand your humor. 

“Clearly enough of an expert to beat you.” You shoot back. Abby grows silent and continues to sip her water. 

You sit in silence while your dad chats with Jerry, giving up on trying to make conversation with Abby. Eventually Jerry and your father stand up ready to finish the game. You and your dad beat them miserably. The game only ended because the sun started to go down, the country club quickly emptying out for the day. 

Your dad and Jerry suggest you all get washed up in the locker rooms before leaving. They walk away from the tennis court side by side talking and laughing while you and Abby walk behind them in almost total silence. Once the group reaches the locker rooms the two dads turn to you and Abby. 

“Would it be ok if me and Jerry grab a drink together? Abby can take you home in Jerry’s car.” The absolute last thing you wanted was to be stuck in a small car with this mean blonde, but you smiled and nodded. 

“See you later kiddo.” Your dad smiles and tussles your hair before walking into the locker room. 

You walk into the locker room as well, planning to just keep your distance from Abby for as long as you could until you were stuck with her in a tiny car. You can hear her heavy footsteps follow behind you and you quickly put your bag down, grab a towel and walk towards the showers to avoid facing her. You walk into one of the stalls and turn on the shower. The warm water helps to calm you down and soothes you. You lather on the soap massaging your muscles to relieve any soreness or tension, making sure you washed all the sweat away from the match. Unfortunately you have to be quick because you don’t want to make Abby any more annoyed than she was. 

As you step out and begin to dry yourself off you realized you forgot your change of clothes. 

Fuck.

You wrap the towel around you tightly and make your way to the lockers. Abby is sitting on the bench in the middle lacing up her shoes. Thank god she was looking down. You scramble over to your bag and grab your clothes out. You turn to head back to the showers to change in peace but Abby’s voice stops you.

“You took fucking forever.” She’s not looking at you, which you have observed to be a habit of hers. 

“Didn’t want to stink up your car. Is that ok with you?” Abby scoffs, but says nothing in response. 

“Seriously what the fuck did I do to you?” You blurt out, exasperated. You’re not usually this confrontational, but you felt like you deserved an answer. “I have barely had a conversation with you and for some reason you seem to have a problem with me or something.” 

Abby stands up angrily to face you and you had almost forgotten you were wearing a towel until she looked at you up and down with wide eyes. “You weren’t even gonna get dressed before asking me that question?” She sounds genuinely pissed off. Was everything you did an inconvenience? 

“Doesn’t matter, just answer it.” You look her straight in the eyes, challenging her. 

“Fine. You really wanna know?” You nod “I barely had a conversation with you and I could tell you were a brat.” As she’s talking she starts walking towards you, you didn’t even realize you were backing away until you felt the cool metal lockers against your skin. “You have an attitude problem, you know that? You don’t know when to shut the fuck up” She’s close, too close, she’s looking directly down at you daring you to respond. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? You were the one who started being rude to me.” You refuse to break eye contact with her, trying to intimidate her from your height was ineffective, she wasn’t backing down. “What are you gonna do?” You ask boldly, tilting your head inviting her to answer. “Teach me a lesson? We both know you’re not gonna do anything, so just let me get dressed so I can get home and never see you again.” She doesn’t respond, the only sound was you and Abby’s synchronized breaths as she stared at you with a fire in her eyes. Her stare somehow made you feel more naked than you already were, making you overly aware of the fact that you were wearing a towel that was starting to slip down. 

“You have no idea what you’re asking for sweetheart.” She says almost breathlessly. The anger in her eyes quickly turns into a hunger when she looks down at your towel slowly slipping off your body. You’re holding on to the towel for dear life. 

“Fuck.” Abby says breathlessly before doing the absolute last thing you could have expected. She kisses you. Hard. 

You let out a surprised squeak and quickly back away, both of your chests heaving. You look in her eyes and see a desperation and hunger that’s almost scary, but for some reason you kiss her back. Abby melts into you and threads her fingers into your hair. You place your hands gently against her chest as she pushes you further against the lockers with her strong body. Her hands slowly travel down to the towel barely maintaining your dignity. She gently pries your hands from the soft material and rips it off throwing it across the room, keeping her lips on yours the entire time. You barely notice the cool air against your bare skin, she is so close to you you can feel her body heat radiate through her clothing. 

Abby uses her foot to move yours outward, spreading your legs enough for her to slot her thigh between them. You moan into her mouth the moment her strong thigh makes contact with your bare cunt. You start slowly writhing against her, trying to relive the ache that was growing in your center. Abby breaks away and looks down at you desperately grinding on her thigh. “You’re already so wet for me sweetheart. Barely had to do anything.” She smiles smugly as she watches you become a moaning mess, her thigh creating a perfect pressure against your clit. 

Abby starts kissing you down your neck, occasionally sucking on the sensitive skin, the feeling of her rough tongue causing you to whimper. She begins circling her fingers around your nipples, teasing them, before pinching them and rolling them between her fingers. You begin to move faster against her thigh and the pleasure in your belly begins to build. Your moaning starts to become louder as you begin to reach your high. Abby notices and moves her thigh further against you, putting even more pressure on your sensitive bud. “You close baby?” You nod and whine, desperate for any kind of release. You start moving faster against Abby’s thigh and your pleasure quickly hits its peak. It comes crashing against you in overwhelming waves, forcing loud moans from your lips. Abby eventually puts her leg down and backs away slightly, before kneeling in front of you. Before you can ask any questions she grabs one of your legs, hooks it around her shoulder and licks a stripe up your soaking cunt. You hiss through your teeth, sensitive from your first orgasm. She begins teasing your clit with her tongue and you have to thread your fingers into her hair for something to hold on to. 

You barely manage to whimper out, “Abs-fuck- I-I’m too sen-senitive.” 

She stops for a second and looks up at you. The sight of her kneeling between your legs is nearly enough to have you coming again. “You can take it baby, gonna make you come until you can’t give me that attitude anymore.” And with that she starts lapping at your cunt once again. She sucks your clit into her mouth, her tongue circling your sensitive bud. You let out a surprised whine, your chest heaving from the intense sensation. Abby’s hands grab hold of your hips, bring you closer to her mouth. 

You can feel another orgasm building as Abby rubs her thumbs in circles against your skin. You begin uncontrollably writhing against her tongue, but Abby quickly uses her grip on your hips to pin you firmly against the lockers forcing you to remain still. The action caused your pleasure to bubble over. “Abby-”, you whine out “-ffuck-fuck.” 

She keeps assaulting your clit through your orgasm, not slowing down. As you begin to come down, you become sensitive again and try to wriggle away from her. She pins your hips against the lockers and looks up at you with a stern look in her eyes. She wasn’t going to stop until you couldn’t even hold yourself up. 

She shoves two fingers inside of you causing you to gasp at the sudden intrusion. Her digits slid in easily, your arousal now dripping down your thighs. She curls her fingers forward causing you to have to bite your lip to keep from screaming. 

“Don’t you fucking dare bite your lip I want everyone to be able to hear you screaming for me sweetheart.” You clench around her thick fingers at her words and Abby takes that as a sign to keep talking. “You’re taking me so well princess. Think I can add another finger?” You nod eagerly at her in response. “Use your words baby.”

“Y-yes pl-please yes.” With your pathetic reply she adds another finger, filling you to the brim. She fucks you at a steady pace occasionally looking up at you to watch your face scrunch up in pleasure. She begins sucking hard on your clit causing you to let out a pornographic moan. She speeds up her fingers, hitting your g-spot with each thrust. Little moans and whimpers were escaping your lips every time her fingers hit that spongy spot. Your walls began clenching around Abby’s fingers and she knew you were close. Your orgasm hit you quickly and caught you by surprise, your whole body feeling the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt. You’re not even sure what noises you were making or what you were saying, the pleasure was so blinding all you could do was buck your hips into Abby’s mouth. You were being held up exclusively by Abby’s grip on your hips. She stands up and quickly scoops you up bridal style to sit you down on the bench. She helps you get dressed and you could barely protest, she reduced you to jello. Abby stands up and offers her hand to help you up. You oblige and as you stand up she says “Need you to teach me your tennis skills sometime.” Weirdly she’s smiling. 

You can’t help but smirk, “Yeah? Well it’s gonna cost you and I don’t take sexual favors as payment.” 

[devotioncrater]

I am once again going to queer analyze the fuck out of Ted Lasso, specifically the scene with Trent and Ted in the hallway at the end of Season 3, Episode 7.

Trent swoops in as the door is closing behind Ted, calls out, “TED!”, and then he runs towards Ted, who is walking away from him. Ted turns, bewildered, because here is Trent -- cool, calm, awkward Trent -- completely out of his shell like never before. There’s a spark to Trent. He’s excited, he’s rambling, he’s so close to Ted. He’s vulnerable, too, because he is laying everything he’s thinking and feeling out in the open. (“It’s going to work!” “And I’ll tell you why -- The Lasso Way!” “You haven’t switched tactics in a week!”)

Chemistry goes both ways. It’s a feedback loop, in a sense, because Ted is taking in what Trent is giving. He turns fully to face Trent, even turning when Trent leaves; actively engages by asking questions (“Great! What is?” “Why?” “I haven’t?”); and the more this interaction goes on, the more Ted’s face goes from bewildered to fond. Is he humoring Trent by letting him ramble? Yeah, he is, because he finds it endearing.

The way it’s shot plays a massive role, too. We the audience know that Roy and Beard are there all along. However, we temporarily forget their presence because the camera is equally close on both Trent and Ted. And the intensity of Trent’s rambling distracts us. It’s not until their little conversation is over that the angle is zoomed out and we’re reminded they aren’t alone. It’s intentionally done like that as an insight onto how Ted feels. He’s tuned in on what Trent has to say, and everything else falls away to the background.

In a heavy rom-com episode, this is the love interest’s confesional to the main character.

Trent was sparking. So much so I’ve seen people say they expected the two to kiss. And that thought doesn’t just pop up out of nowhere. You don’t arrive to that conclusion baseless. Which means:

1) The simmering three-season-long groundwork put into their relationship is rock solid.

2) The romcom beats -- which have gotten more frequent -- are subconciously hitting the audience and therefore priming us to expect a follow through (re: a kiss)

3) Characters do not get that close unless it’s to kiss, fight, or scheme. Clearly they aren’t fighting or scheming, so what other expectation is there?

Now hold onto your hat, cowboy. This is where it gets fun.

This hallway scene is a direct parallel to Rebecca and Ted in the West Ham hallway. It’s at an away game; Rebecca and Trent are both potential love interests with an air of manic energy; and, again, it takes place in a hallway with the team in the locker room. 

Only this time, with Trent, everything is subverted. 

Ted walks to Rebecca vs Trent runs to Ted.

Rebecca touches Ted vs Trent doesn’t physically engage.

Ted being uncomfortable the entire interaction vs Ted leaning into the interaction.

Beard and Roy not being present vs Beard and Roy being there.

This subversion also applies to where Rebecca and Trent’s respective manic energy stem from. Their energy levels are foils of one another. 

Rebecca’s stems from negative external factors outside of Richmond (re: Rupert) and the fact the team is losing the match/things are not working.

Trent’s stems from positive internal factors within Richmond (re: belief in The Lasso Way) and the fact things are going to work despite the team losing the match.

Let’s get queer up in here and extrapolate those subversions to sexuality:

Ted slowly approaches heterosexuality (Rebecca), alone (without community) and is uncomfortable by the external pressures placed upon him, the way heterosexuality imposes its touch on him. He visibly looks/feels worse after the interaction.

vs

Queerness (Trent) running up behind Ted with a warning shout (hitting Ted when he doesn’t expect it) and while Ted is surrounded by others (with community). And at first Ted is confused by it, but as soon as he hears it out, gives it a chance, he grows fond of what it has to say. It does not impose its touch on him, and the pressure is an excited internal one. Ted visibly looks/feels better after the interaction.

In Trent’s words, it’s going to work.

[maochira]

I really have a Dad!Ego Jinpachi brainrot and this one has been bugging my mind lately...

Can I ask for Dad!Ego bringing his baby to the match between Japan U-20 vs Bluelock because the baby's nanny can't take care of them that day due to personal reasons. So while Ego is giving his speech to Bluelock players, his baby is just there sitting on his lap or being carried in his arms and the players are just looking at the cute mini Ego while listening his speech... also Anri babysitting the baby because Ego is too focused watching the match...

OOOH....SKSDSKJKJDSKSKSJSJS You know just right how to fuel my dad!Ego obsession, don't you??😭😭 Also I made his kid a toddler instead of a baby but!! HERE WE GO

Requests open! - dad!Ego masterlist

Tags: gn!toddler!reader, reader is Ego's kid (obviously), everyone who requests dad!Ego gets a kiss from me, no player is specifically mentioned except for Bachira

-Ego never mentioned or gave any hints of having a child towards the Blue Lock players, so you can imagine their surprise when Ego and Anri walked into the Blue Lock Eleven's locker room and Anri carried you in her arms

-of course, someone asked who you are. Ego took you into his arms and just answered "my biological offspring, my little (Y/N)-chan"

-"WHAT DO YOU MEAN EGO HAS A CHILD WHAT THE FUCK EGO GOT LAID???"- everyone.

-it's a bit hard for them to believe because never in their life would they have expected Ego to be a father, but in their opinion it also weirdly fits him???

-you have the same eyes as your father (without the eyebags, obviously) so the way you stare at everyone is kind of scary but also cute at the same time

-Ego keeps you in his arms while he holds his speech to the players before the game and you just stare at everyone with an o.o face

-Bachira actually gets a bit of cuteness aggression and really wants to squish your cheeks but he holds himself back. At first, at least. He ends up squishing your cheek "for good luck"

-when the match starts, you're sitting on Ego's lap and he's gently holding you. But his arms around you always get a little tighter whenever something intense happens during the match. So basically every few seconds

-you try to get his attention because to you, watching the match is boring since you're too young to properly understand anything about soccer. But Ego is too busy focusing on the match, he can't properly give you attention so he just gives you over to Anri

-you're used to that so it's nothing that bothers you, plus you love Anri a lot, she's a bit like an aunt to you

-Anri actually struggles a bit with you because she has to pay a part of her attention to the match and another part of her attention to Ego as well

-but!!! There are still the benched players. You kind of won the heart of some of them, so they talk to you and give you some attention while Ego and Anri are busy

-in the last few minutes of the match, you're back on your father's lap and he squeezes you even tighter than in the beginning. Sometimes even so tight you barely get air anymore and Anri has to loosen his grip around you. Ego always feels a bit bad for accidentally squeezing you so tight, but the game gets too intense over and over he can't help but do it again

-even though you have no idea what's going on, you notice how happy everyone including your father is when the Blue Lock Eleven wins, and your dad being happy makes you happy as well!!!

-a bit later back in the locker room, Bachira actually gets to hold you and he lets all the cuteness aggression out by squshing your cheeks and tickling you. It also helps him calming down after the match

[cassiopeia-longbottom98]

The Beater and Her Keeper

Relationship: Oliver Wood x Reader

Summary: Y/n Parkinson is crushing on her friend and Quidditch captain, Oliver Wood.

Will she get her keeper?

WC:1,118

_______________________________________

“Perce, please.” I plead. “I just need help with potions. You know I don’t understand what Snape says. His hair is so greasy, it’s distracting.” Percy chuckles and shakes his head.

“Y/n, it’s important for you to learn this on your own.” I sigh. If I don’t get at least an E on this paper, I won’t be able to play the oncoming match, Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff. The puffs have a new seeker, Goyle, and she has been doing great for her first year. I am excited to see how Harry goes up against her.

“Please Percy. I will literally do anything for you. I will even help you win over Penelope.” I beg. Percy was quiet for a few minutes. I am starting to get worried.

“I’ll help you after dinner today. Then we meet everyday in the library after lunch. You’re lucky I won’t interfere with practice time or else we would be studying then too.” I jump up and hug him. “I love you so much Perce. Thank you!"

“Parks, if you don’t get your head out of the damn clouds, I will make Weasley send a bludger over that way!” Oliver Wood yells from the goal post. I blush and turn away from Oliver.

“Sorry Wood.” I mumble. George flies up next to me, “Were you daydreaming about the lovely captain again? Why don’t you go down there and make it up to him? Give him a big ole smooch.”

“George, shut up!” I yell, chasing him so I can smack him with my beater bat.

“Oi, what did I just say? Focus on hitting the bludgers, not each other.” Oliver yells.

After practice, Angelina and I walk out of the locker room together. “Are you going to finally ask him out to Hogsmeade yet?”

At my silence, Angelina sighs, “Honestly, Y/n you need to grow a pair and ask him. Before someone else does.”

I take a deep breath, agreeing with her.

“I know, but what if he doesn’t like me? If I ask him out and he says no, it could ruin our friendship.”

“Who doesn’t like you lass? Is he the reason your head was up in the clouds today?” Oliver asks as he walks up to us.

I blush and look down.

“Oh, it’s nothing Ollie. Sorry for not staying focused during practice. Percy has been drilling me in all things potions for two weeks now. I think I can brew a Dreamless Sleep potion in my sleep now.” Oliver frowns as Angelina laughs.

“You knew what you were getting into when you asked him for help. Plus, you know it wasn’t potions you were thinking about.” She pushes me gently. I swear everyone on the team knew I had a crush on Oliver, except for Oliver. He was oblivious to all the blushing. Thank Godric. I would be mortified if he ever found out.

“Well lass, anybody should be glad to have you in their life and should count themselves lucky to have the privilege to hold your interest. Don’t sell yourself short. You should ask him out.” Oliver says before he walks off.

Angelina laughs at it. “You heard the man. Go ask him out.” I smack her across the arm. “He doesn’t mean himself, Ange. Let’s just go eat. I’m starving. Percy has been starving me during lunch and I still have to convince Penelope to switch patrol shifts with me for tomorrow. Hopefully, Percy can get the courage to ask her out tomorrow night.”

“Y/n, do I look alright?” Percy asks as he smooths his sweater down. I nod as I swallow down my pumpkin juice.

“Yes, Perce. You look great. Like I said in the common room.” I roll my eyes at him. He acts just like his mother at times. Penelope finally agreed to go to Hogsmeade with him. I should send her something. Now I don’t have to listen to it any more.

“Well, I am going to get going. Did you want me to get you something?”

“No, Percy. You go and enjoy your date. Don’t worry about me.”

After I finish my breakfast, I start walking out to the quidditch pitch. I wanted to go out for a fly, since I have the morning to myself. The air was my thinking space. I always feel so free up there.

As I was going around the pitch for another lap, I heard someone call my name. I look down to Oliver waving at me. I fly down to him.

“What’s up Ollie? Did you need something?” He shakes his head. “Are you okay?” I look at him confused. “I am great. I actually have a Saturday morning where I can come flying. No practices scheduled or study plans.” I say grinning, “Not that I don’t enjoy your practices Ollie. I just like free flying every once and a while.” I chuckle.

Oliver looks at me. “Are you sure you’re okay? I mean Weasley is on a date with Clearwater.” I tilt my head in confusion.

“Why would I be upset by that? I mean I set those two up. It was my price for Percy to help tutor me.”

Oliver takes a deep breath and shuffles.

“Isn’t he the lad you wanted to ask to Hogsmeade?” I realized what he meant and started to laugh.

"S-sorry Ollie. But that is the funniest thing I have ever heard. I love Percy, but not in that way at all. He’s way too up tight for me.”

Red creeps up Oliver’s neck, “Oh, I just thought you meant Weasley. Everyone knows how close you two are.”

I giggle at him, “No, it’s not him. Percy is sweet, but he’s not for me.”

“W-who is then? Who did you want to ask to Hogsmeade?”

I can feel my whole face burning. I try to look away but I feel Oliver’s fingers catch my chin. “I-is it me, lass?”

I nod and look downward. I couldn’t look him in the face as he turned me down. Practices are going to be awkward from now on. I might even quit and give Fred back his spot.

I get caught off guard when Oliver kisses me. I gasp a little before I lean into it. My arms wrap around his neck,

Once we pulled apart, I laid my head on his chest. I can feel his heart racing.

Chuckling, Oliver pulls away slightly. I look up at him as he is beaming. “You know, you still haven’t asked me yet, lass?"

I laugh at him, “Will you go to Hogsmeade with me, Ollie?” I ask.

He nods before he kisses me again, this time more certain.

[triptychgrip]

New fic: Yuuri vs. Yuri on Hot Ones Versus 🔥🔥🔥

Yura loudly exhaled then sat up straight. 

“Ok, so back in February 2017, there was a local hockey team that began renting the ice for the slot right after this geezer would “coach” his then-fiance,” he began, jerking his head in Viktor’s direction and making a big show of his air quotes. “Notice I used air quotes because 90 percent of the time he was flirting and hanging all over him and it was the most loose definition of coaching possible.”

Kenjirou gave a hysterical sort of giggle and then immediately clapped a hand over his mouth. Feeling slightly defensive of his husband, Yuuri didn’t even have to think much about the words that left his lips.

“Vitya’s unorthodox methods worked, though, didn’t they?” he chimed in, not bothering to tone down his smugness. “Remind me, Yura: who was the gold medalist at the 2017 World Figure Skating Championships, again?”

Viktor and Aasha barked delighted-sounding laughs and out of the corner of his eye, Yuuri saw Mila whip her phone out. Presumably, to capture the flush that had begun to stain his opponent’s cheeks.

“Yeah, well…anyway,” Yura resumed in a grumble, doing a pretty poor job of masking his flusteredness. “Most of the players– ”

“It was Yuuri-senpai! Yuuri-senpai was the 2017 World’s title holder!” Kenjirou interrupted in a shout, very unnecessarily. 

Yuuri bit his lip to suppress the mirth bubbling up within him and made a concerted effort not to look over at Viktor.

“As I was saying!” the Ice Tiger huffed, shooting him a nasty look, as if he could read his mind. “Most of the players kept to themselves, and other than some very questionable tastes in cologne that we were subjected to in the break room and locker room, they were fine to be around. But then there was the team captain, Sergei…who just straight up sucked.”

Yuuri decided to adopt a neutral expression.

While he hadn’t been the biggest fan of Sergei, he’d also never known what to make of his love’s opinion that the man had had a crush on him. It was true that Sergei had sought him out for conversation more than a lot of Yubileyny’s other skaters, but he’d chalked this up to the fact that at that point, he had still been extremely new to Russia in general, and had probably seemed starved for friendly faces. 

And, if Madame Baranovskaya had shot laser beams out of her eyes whenever she was in Sergei’s general vicinity, Yuuri had suspected this was due to her distaste for hockey, and not anything to do with a sense of protectiveness over him.

“There aren’t enough hours in the day for me to explain all the assorted means of suckage, but it was sometime in May that I snapped,” Yura continued on, looking impressively impassive. “Sergei had the most douchey hairstyle by the way…this platinum blonde, dyed sort of swoopy-thing that was his entire personality, to the point he never stopped talking about it.”

---

The above excerpt is from my newly uploaded fic (which I teased in this post), detailing Yuuri and Yurio facing off against one another on Hot Ones Versus. Taking place during the 2021 off-season, the two of them are currently the top two seeded skaters in the world, and their rivalry is heightened by the fact that they are both Viktor's students.

Just like my Vanity Fair Lie Detector fic, I had such a blast writing this, and am really excited to work on the final chapter, which will be from Yurio and Viktor's points of view. (Mila and Kenjirou also have large roles in this story, as they have tagged along for the episode filming for moral support, LOL).

If you read this WIP and enjoy it, PLEASE tell me what you think; I love receiving comments!

🔥 You can read Chapter 1, here 🔥

Oh, and as I mention in the pre-notes, this story marks my 20th Yuri!!! on Ice fic. Maybe it's about time I made a pinned post, lol...