#apparently he was a referee

[sunshine-gumdrop]

Wtf!?

Who is tim Peel?

Link for tim peels tweet

[lokilickedme]

The pure cuddly joy of spending a cold Colorado morning sending Instagram cat reels back and forth with the love of your life because he's in Utah for the week and you're not

[a-ginger-from]

I'm genuinely so frustrated by this match

[tojisun]

hockey player simon pt 02 // pt 01

simon topples to the ground, his padded knees hitting the ice. he feels bodies pile on top of him, gear and feet pressing into his sides, not with ill intentions—well, not completely with ill intentions—but simon does not care.

he saw that winning shot land, heard the cries of their fans—they're playing in home rink too—and feels the thrill of victory wash over him.

the referees pull them off each other and simon finally gets to stand. his chest is heaving, the cool air and the heat of his exhausted body causing miasmic reactions into his being. add that pretty doll of a fan he’s been eyeing into the mix, and the feeling of elation bloats.

peaking.

they rush off court, their coach trying to contain their buzzed energy just enough to be able to properly burn it off in the weight room. simon lags at the very back, eyes still flicking to that section in the audience as though by doing so, he’d get a quick glance of you.

of course he doesn’t, not when everyone’s turned into blurred specks—compact seas of their jersey colours.

“riley!” their coach hollers. “let’s go, let’s go!”

simon shoots towards him, his sheathed skates thudding against the padded floor as he makes his way into the weight room. johnny claps him on his back, their team cheering for him as he passes them on his way to the bench press, but he couldn’t really focus, not with his mind running; trying to make excuses that’d allow him to slip away just for a moment to scour the arena for, well, you, but nothing ever sticks.

every single one sounds pathetic and impractical. say, he was given the go-signal to roam around, what exactly are the chances he’d come across you again?

apparently, one-fuckin’-hundred percent.

“oh!” you gasp upon seeing him, your palm falling flat atop your chest in your surprise.

simon stumbles to his feet himself, his previous finesse on ice apparently having gotten zapped out the moment he’s back on land. garrick and mactavish turn, not expecting simon to stop, and even your friends, it seem, did not expect this run-in, as well.

simon watches as your lips part open, like you are gearing yourself up for a word, only to shut them close in your hesitation. you flit your eyes to him and away again, shyness rippling from your very movements.

he takes pity on you, and greets, “hey.”

it’s late when he realizes that he’s raised his hand up for a weak, little wave. he hears the distinct muffled laughter from mactavish already. garrick, at least, has the decency to actually smother it.

muppets, the two of them.

“hi!” you reply, giddy, your face beaming as you smile up at him.

lord, he thinks, you’re even more beautiful up close.

simon can’t help the way his lips tug up too, his own heart churning at the elation that is still singing in his veins. he pretends to not notice the way your friends shimmy out of his eyesight, pointing to their phones as though to say just give them a ring when you are done with your business with simon, before they run away, giggling to each other.

he twists to make discreet eye contact with his teammates. he tilts his head to the side, hoping to christ almighty that they take the hint.

go away.

he almost rejoices when they actually do, the two of them sending you polite smiles before walking away too. with your back turned to them, they make smooching actions, mactavish has even turned his back to simon, crossed his arms over himself, and ran his hands over his sides in mimicry of a hot make-out session.

garrick barks out a laugh, the sound ricocheting, and it takes your startled glance back at them for the two to truly scurry away.

you turn around to see him pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

“sorry about them,” he murmurs, hand leaving his face to rub at the back of his neck. he feels his ears burning, surely flushed in his secondhand embarrassment.

“that’s okay,” you reply, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. a jersey—his number. “congratulations, by the way.”

then, your smile grows bigger. brighter. “you were so cool! you went zoomin’ to our side and next thing we know you were–”

your words peter into a quiet stutter, like the events are unfolding in your memories the way his are too.

he remembers the high of having pointed at you; dedicating the winning shot to the fan whose awed look lit the fire in him. he remembers the certainty in him that he was going to land that shot; so sure he was of his victory.

it was exhilarating. dizzying.

“was it– did you mean it?”

“of course,” he croaks out, sweltering from within.

“oh,” you murmur, breathless, before whispering to him your name.

simon repeats it out loud, and it drips from his tongue like he was meant to always sound it out. like your name was meant for him to call.

you stare up at him with those beautiful, dazzling eyes, and he knows that he’s addicted. hooked.

“do you want to grab somethin’?” he asks, desperate to be with you for as long as you’ll let him.

“yes,” you reply, eyes crinkling in your delighted smile. “that’d be wonderful.”

you two walk side-by-side, mere inches between your shoulder and his, but simon wants you closer. he wants to bask in your warmth, in your scent. what do you smell like? something sweet and floral? or something clean?

he wants so much more.

as you warm up to him, smiling and laughing, and exchanging shy banters that has him feeling parched, simon realizes that there’s something beyond winning the playoffs and the cup that he is so desperate to fulfill.

fuck me.

this is still very much delusions of the heart but let me have it pls 😭 more than anything, i enjoyed writing hockey au sm and honestly i think u guys might have to pry this out of my clasped hands hhdhsh

[onsomenewsht]

Aching legs that often told us it’s all worth it

About when you just win everything and you just want a hug

》 Barcelona Femini x Reader, Leah Williamson x Reader

》 word count: +2k

》 cras amet qui nunquam amavit; quique amavit cras amet [latin verse]: let the one love tomorrow who has never loved, and let the one who has loved love tomorrow

It’d be hypocritical to say you have never imagined this moment, that you have never dreamt of this exact moment. It’d be hypocritical to say that you have never, in the comfort of your bathroom, lifted a bottle of shampoo picturing this very trophy.

But no dream nor bottle of shampoo can remotely come close to how you feel when the referee blows the whistle three times, proclaiming your club the winner of the Champions League.

The legs, which just until a moment ago were close to giving up under the weight of an intense and stressful 90 minutes of running back and forth, suddenly sprint towards the centre of the pitch to join the Blaugrana bubble.

Screams and celebrations in more languages than you can recognise can’t bother you as you know well enough you’re all saying the same thing, you’re all sharing and expressing the same joy.

“Non ci credo!” [I don’t believe this!], Giulia jumps on your back without a care – the excitement to win such a big competition at such a young age fills you with pride.

What a bright future these kids have in front of them.

“Credici, it’s the first of many”

You’re optimistic tonight, it’s the first Champions League for you too after all.

You carry her around the pitch for five good minutes, hugging and cheering with every single teammate you meet in your path. The Italian girl gets dragged away not long after to join the kids’ groups.

You don’t mind it too much, you feel too old to keep up with their endless energy anyway.

For the first time since the end of the game you find yourself looking around, looking for a blonde woman – probably hidden behind a ridiculous hat.

It’s Keira who manages to catch your attention, screaming in that incomprehensible accent of hers right in your ears and dragging you towards the podium.

The trophy ceremony flies in a blur of cheers and confetti, despite your best attempts to savour every single minute of this incredible and historic win.

When, between pictures and out-of-key chants, a moment of apparent calm arrives, and you take advantage of it to look in the stands for your family.

At least the journey was not in vain this time.

The wrinkles around your mom’s mouth are a clear sign she’s been smiling for hours, the watery eyes of your father are the clearest expression of pride you will get from him. You hug them both for as long as they allow you, still reserving your biggest hug for your brother.

No sign of her yet.

“Here I was, thinking I couldn’t be more proud of you”.

You can’t hold back your tears.

After all, he’s your biggest and longest supporter, cheering for you since you used to play with boys double your age and size.

“Shut up and let me hug Andrea”, you say, reaching for your excited nephew.

The attention the toddler gives you is long enough to admire your medal and to kick a couple of times towards the goal when you let him onto the pitch. As soon as he spots Claudia, recently declared his favourite player ever, he sprints in her direction to steal her from Patri. You let him be, there’s Irene with the group of barely-grown-ups.

You don’t hold back a laugh as you see María run out of nowhere, her flag secured in one hand and a contagious smile on her face. You can’t wait to see her play again.

Then the sudden realisation you’re alone hits you hard. You’re alone, not too far away from the middle of the pitch. As much alone someone can be in the middle of a Champions League final celebration, but alone nonetheless.

Around you, teammates and friends and families are gathered in different bubbles, jumping and cheering without much of a care. The stands are filled with Blaugrana colours, singing loud and proud.

For the first time today, you let yourself get carried away by the supporters’ passion, admiring every single corner of the stadium as the privileged spectator of your own story.

You just witnessed a moment in football’s history.

You’d cry if not for the fitted body that crushes into you unexpectedly, bringing you back to the green grass without much effort.

“La poeta!”

“La reina!”

You share with Alexia a hug way more intense and sentimental than what you’re used to. You let emotion overcome you one more time as the captain holds you firmly, large hands caressing your back and keeping you present.

Her eyes are as shining as her all self, this victory means so much more than the obvious for most of you.

“You had to come in and score just like that, celebrate just like that”

“¿Qué puedo decir?” [What can I say?], the blonde shrugs her shoulders, but after years of friendship you can tell when the fine line between being humble and being aware of your own greatness blurs.

Alexia holds your face between her hands, the smirk painted on her lips shifts slightly to a more serious smile.

“Te lo mereces, lo sabes?” [You know you deserve this, right?]

“We all do”

“No, no, you deserve this”, she says firmly, addressing the elephant in the room dressed as the loan that last year broke your confidence.

You were there in Turin, it looked like a twist of fate to be away from Barcelona when they lifted the most beautiful trophy in Europe’s football.

This victory means more to you than what you’re willing to admit, even to yourself.

That’s one of the reasons why you’re still looking for her in the crowd.

“Enough with this mushy stuff, where’s my favourite Putellas?”

“Lo juro, si no dejas de hablar así de mi hermana–” [I swear, if you keep talking like this of my sister–]

“Oh, I was talking about your mom, but now that we’re on it–”

The punch she throws on your arm is light, but the message is clear. You and Alba have too much fun provoking Alexia, who is way overprotective of the both of you to realise that the jokes are only aimed at annoying her.

Feeling called upon, the two women join you with huge smiles on their faces. Eli welcomes you with a motherly hug, somehow sensing the tension on your shoulders.

“¿Qué es esa mala cara?” [Why the long face?]

“She can’t find her girlfriend”

“¡Alba, callate!”

Alexia raises an eyebrow at her sister’s quip, not happy to be let out about this.

She doesn’t know about the situationship you find yourself in. It’s not like you don’t trust the blonde, you do. But you’re aware of the protective tendencies and, on top of everything, you’re a bit scared of the lecture about the importance of being honest with your feelings and all that shit.

She’s too emotionally mature now.

Luckily, Olga comes running to meet you, distracting the captain from any inquisitive question without much effort.

“You’re disgusting”, you say to Alexia, now used to her open smile and carefree attitude whenever her girlfriend is close enough to light up her usually stoic face.

“¡Oy!”

“I wasn’t talking about Olga, I like Olga”, you state, dropping an arm around Alba’s shoulder who immediately joins the joke, “Yeah, lovesick Alexia is scary”

Eli has to intervene, still laughing at her daughter’s expense.

“They’re just jealous”

Olga’s right, you can hide it from everyone but yourself. You’re definitely a little envious of the cute relationship and happiness that seem to follow your friend like a glowing shadow.

You want a love like that too.

Your gaze starts wandering around the pitch once again, hoping to find the person who’s hunting your dreams and nightmares.

You know she’s here, you overheard Keira talking about her before the game.

She’s just not here for you.

Quickly excusing yourself from the Putellas’ family, muttering something about looking for your nephew to relieve anyone who found themselves babysitting, you bid your goodbye.

Before you can get away Alexia hugs you one last time, letting you know you’re not escaping her questions.

You find Andrea easily, entertained as he runs around followed shortly by another child – Mapi.

“Oh, wow, it’s like looking at your future!”, you teasingly nod at Ingrid, who’s way too entranced by the scene.

The Norwegian just grins, holding you as she kisses your forehead, always amused about the height difference. Her silence is loud enough.

Another jolt of jealousy strikes your body, immediately subsided by the reassuring presence of the defender and the loving gaze reserved for the enthusiastic Spanish woman nearby.

You couldn’t hate them even if you wanted to, they’re too beautiful together and you’re too happy for them.

When your nephew finally notices you, he seems to remember you actually are his favourite person. He outruns María, literally jumping between your arms – risking falling on his face just once by tripping over the flag that one of your teammates must have tied around his neck like a cape.

“¡Visca Barça!”

“Your father supports Milan”

“Ser del Barça es el millor que hi ha!”, he states in an impressive Catalan.

“Who taught you that?”

The kid points at Aitana and Jana, both sporting a smug grin all over their faces as they greet you from close by. The latter is lucky you’re feeling merciful enough to not embarrass her in front of her girlfriend.

You can just shake your head and laugh about the situation.

“You can give Keira Spanish lessons”, you say to Andrea as you position him comfortably on your shoulders.

You try to be subtle as you observe all the people on the pitch. If anyone asks, you are simply looking for your brother in the crowd of Blaugrana to return the child to its rightful owner.

Even if your brother is not a gorgeous footballer you can’t get out of your mind.

Of course you find him in a conversation with Keira.

“Tell me more about this high school suspension”, you hear the English midfielder ask.

“Tell her absolutely nothing!”

The chat goes on for a few more minutes, you’re a little ashamed to admit that you’re not listening to a single word as you still look around.

It’s your nephew who brings you back to reality, pulling you by the collar of your medal. You quickly bid your goodbyes to both of them, making sure you can meet again before they have to go back home and you have to be dragged into all the post-final engagements.

“You’re hopeless”

“What?”

“You’re both unbelievable”

“Where is your girlfriend? You’re bearable when Laura is around”

“She’s somewhere with your girlfriend”

At her obvious taunt, your gaze still flies in all the directions your neck humanely allows.

You really are hopeless.

Keira’s laugh is the final nail in the coffin, the only one amused about the situation.

She’s also the one who introduced you to the person you thought would just be a fun night out over a year ago, the person who turned out to be comforting and a constant thought.

The person who makes you realise midair you’re falling in love.

No strings attached though.

“Go to her!”

“She’s not here for me”

“Don’t drag me in, you useless stubborn–”

The blonde has a point, you can’t deny that the mutual friendship is the perfect excuse to find each other in the same places at the same time. The perfect opportunity to see each other again as much as possible without questioning the blurred line between an armless fuck and growing feelings.

Nights of fun soon turned into morning talks in the warmth of a hotel bed, then whole days spent exploring each other’s lives.

If only one of you dares to admit wanting more.

“Ohi, champ!”

As you hear her voice you never turn around so fast in your life, almost injuring yourself from the force with which you move. You don’t even hear Keira bust out laughing at your side.

“Hi”

“Ciao”

What a stupid smile you have on your face, just staring at each other a few steps away.

You’re sweaty and tired from the match and the celebrations, pretty sure your hair is a mess and your legs are on the verge of giving up. Yet she thinks she has never seen you more beautiful.

“Oh, for fuck’ sake, just kiss or whatever”, Keira grabs you both by an arm when neither of you makes any sign of moving, impatiently pushing you closer to the other and leaving, muttering something you’re not sure you want to know.

“Don’t run too far, you still have an interview in Catalan to do”

You don’t hear your friend’s response, you don’t even see her finger up in the air. When Leah laughs every other sound and person fades into the background.

“Can’t wait for that to happen”

“You and any other culés”

A few more moments pass before the blonde adds, “I think congratulations are in order”, pointing to the medal you wear around your neck – suddenly heavier.

“Thank you”, you whisper, lowering your gaze and nervously turning the object over in your hands.

You don’t need to see her, always hyper aware of her presence around you. You feel her approaching and enveloping you in a warm embrace, the hug you’ve been waiting for all day.

You have to admit to yourself it’s the best you’ve received today.

[uniteds]

stuff that happened in the 2022/2023 football season that should send us into a coma but we’re too desensitized:

1. the whole ass world cup in the middle of the season. what was that

2. manchester united sacking ronaldo and announcing a sale of the club in the middle of the world cup

3. ronaldo getting dropped at the world cup and his replacement scoring a hattrick immediately after

4. keeping up with the belgians (world cup edition)

5. keeping up with the belgians (courtois saying he doesn’t respect kdb after stealing his missus)

6. ronaldo stans beefing with a little moroccan girl

7. the kingdom of saudi arabia buying newcastle united and then telling the premier league that they didn’t and the premier league going “oh okay if you say so”

8. megan thee stallion being romelu lukaku’s date to lautaro martinez’s wedding

9. pique cheating on shakira and then shakira releasing a diss track about it

10. shakira figuring out pique cheated on her because someone ate her strawberry jam and pique doesn’t eat strawberry jam

11. apparently the girl pique cheated on shakira with (clara) cheating on pique with pep

12. wagatha christie libel case

13. real madrid dropping a video accusing barcelona of fascism and the government of cataluyna getting involved

14. the pope coming out as a manchester united fan

15. the one napoli fan that basically made zielinski strip on the pitch

16. mount vesuvius park shutting down because napoli fans wanted to fake an eruption as a celebration

17. frank lampard taking everton into a relegation battle, getting sacked, and then taking chelsea into a relegation battle

18. on that note: chelsea were in a relegation scrap and finished 12th

19. mourinho lost his first ever european final to sevilla europa league black magic

20. whatever the fuck borussia dortmund did on the last day of the bundesliga season

21. anthony martial’s ex wife chasing his first wife down a french motorway with a baby in the passenger seat

22. psg suspending messi because he took an unsanctioned trip to saudi arabia and then unsuspending him two days later because they didn’t want people talking about geopolitics

23. the absolutely bizarre messi apology video released by psg

24. spurs refunding their fans’ tickets after being embarrassing

25. pep’s heartbreak over the fact julia roberts is a manchester united fan

26. chelsea scored one goal in the month of april

27. chelsea and spurs had six managers between them and won one match combined between march and april

28. mourinho fighting anthony taylor after the europa league final

29. milan derby in the ucl for the first time since 2005

30. luis enrique saying he’s cool with the spanish players having sex during the world cup as long as they’re not having orgies

31. luis enrique saying he doesn’t have sex anymore unless his wife wants to

32. man city charged with 115 counts of financial doping and trying to get the barrister in charge disqualified because he’s an arsenal fan

33. mourinho wire-taping himself to catch referees being corrupt

34. ryan reynolds and mac from it’s always sunny in philadelphia buying a football club and that football club getting promoted

35. pele died rip

36. women football awards sponsored by shein and klarna having a category for “male football ally of the year” and it’s just random men that went to one (1) women’s game

37. barcelona negreia case (how do you say calciopoli in catalan?)

38. infantino saying he feels gay, african, like a migrant worker, disabled, arab, and qatari

39. infantino saying he was oppressed as a child because he was ginger and italy is not safe for gingers

40. david alaba’s father in law getting arrested for being one the leaders of a far right group plotting to overthrow the german government

41. richarlison being tumblr’s it girl for a month and then not scoring a goal for the next four

42. juventus being in the middle of another corruption scandal and being docked points because of it

43. two teams getting investigated by the british government for playing football the weekend the queen died

44. gavi getting a yellow card in the first minute of a football match

45. pogba’s brother was arrested by french authorities for being part of a group-organized extortion attempt against pogba

46. richarlison getting a tattoo of neymar’s face and neymar paying him 30k to get it removed

47. iker casillas coming out, puyol implying they had a thing, and both of them retracting it in the most misha collins way possible.

48. sane and mane fight

49. zlatan retired from football

50. barca withholding about 50 million in wages from their players and somehow frenkie still didn’t want to join manchester united

[fbfh]

curiosity is a wonderful thing - ch. 9

wc: 3.2k

genre: slow burn, little angst, childhood best friends to lovers

pairing: slow burn bff!ben x fem daughter of alice!reader, previously audrey x ben, mal x ben???? apparently????

warnings: emotional damage!!! unusual behavior from ben, reader has a lil mini breakdown, reader is a just a tad autistic coded and has kind of a meltdown??? could also be read as emotional distress so interpret how you will

summary: ben gets weird during a tourney game and your gut is telling you something you probably shouldn't ignore.

song recs: twisted - aviva, cradles - sub urban, rabbit heart - florance and the machine, heads will roll - yeah yeah yeahs

a/n: YOOOOOOOOO IT'S GETTIN JUICYYYYYY. also our cat I mentioned in the an of chapter 8 has settled in well. he's so talkitive lol. I LOVE YOU GUYS I HOPE YOU'RE ENJOYING HAPPY PRIIIIIDEEEEEEE~~~~~ BEEEEE WHO YOU AARRRREEEE FOR YOUR PRIIIIIIIIIIIDDDDDDEEEEEEEE

tags @yesv01@magcon7280 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sunshineangel-reads @dustyinkpages @inejsknifes @tulipmagnoliaisme @ev3ningrain SORRY IF I MISSED ANYONE YELL AT ME IN THE NOTES AND ILL ADD YOU LOL

You take in a big lungful of the crisp, springtime fresh Auradon air as you crawl out of your rabbit hole and back into Overland. Roots and twigs and grass stick to your skirts, but you don’t mind much. You check your pocket watch in a panic, and scurry to the tourney match. You’re merely a pebble’s throw away, so you reach the bleachers quite quickly. Late, granted, but not too late. Not horribly, irreversibly, all-endingly late. You climb up to your usual spot in the bleachers, only a few seats away from the isle kids. Well, Mal and Evie, really, since Jay and Carlos are out on the field. You try to wave at the girls, but they seem much too preoccupied with the game to notice. You understand their fascination, tourney matches are simply addictive. 

You yourself hadn’t been one for sports - aside from the occasional caucus race - that is, until Ben joined the tourney team last year. He must have spent every spare moment leading up to his first match trying to explain the rules to you with no luck, but the moment the referee blew her whistle, you were enamored watching him play. And it’s simply been that way ever since. No matter what it is, you know it will be a fantastical time if Ben’s the one playing. This seems especially true today. 

Ben tears up the field like an absolute animal - no pun intended - and within minutes has scored yet another goal for Auradon. The Fighting Knights are pulling out all the stops, and through even your unwavering faith in Ben’s athleticism, it’s starting to look like a close call. You pull out a teacup from your bag, the china cool under your fingertips. It’s adorned with a white catchfly and chestnut print, but you don’t pay much attention to it. 

Your eyes are locked on Ben as he races down the field, and you pour the spout of your tea pot shaped bag into the cup. Warm, perfectly brewed rooibos and nettle tea trickles from its spout. You shake it absentmindedly a few times, and some lemon slices and lavender sprigs fall in, floating atop the beverage. You take a sip of the warm, perfectly seasoned herbal tea, nearly choking on it as Jay drags Carlos across the field. You watch with bated breath as they move strategically, setting up Ben to score the perfect winning goal. The ball flies straight into the net, and you jump up, cheering and applauding, not even noticing the rooibos and nettle tea stain on your skirt. The crowd roars right along with you, applauding and cheering deafeningly while the announcer congratulates Auradon Prep on their win. Before he can even finish speaking, Ben grabs the mic from him.

You stop dead in your tracks, brow furrowed.

That’s not like him. 

Not at all. 

“Excuse me, excuse me!” Ben pants, still out of breath as he tries to get the crowd’s focus. “Can I have your attention please?”

The stands quiet as he speaks. 

“There’s- uh, there’s something I’d like to say!”

What in the Knave’s good name is he doing? Your mind races, trying to remember if he’d said anything about something like this. Were there any speeches, any announcements, anything like that he was going to make after the game? You can’t remember him mentioning anything like that. Besides, he always runs his speeches by you first to make sure it comes across the way he intends it too. Even something as small as an opening statement or homework presentation, he always gets your feedback first. You watch the way his eyes dart around, the way he hesitates as he tries to figure out what he’s saying. Your stomach drops. He’s improvising this. This whole situation feels surreal. Most peculiar, and most definitely unlike him. 

After another moment of floundering, he finally addresses the crowd. 

“Give me an M!” 

The crowd complies, shouting out the letter and mirroring the shape he’s making with his arms. 

“Give me an A!” 

“A!” 

While the crowd complies yet again, throwing their arms over their heads in an A shape, your eyes fly over to Audrey. You’re afraid you know where this is going, even though it makes positively less sense than the most twisting turning riddles you’ve ever encountered in Wonderland. Your horrified, bewildered expression is the opposite of her hopeful one, and you realize you’re thinking the same thing. Your stomach sinks in a sick, twisting feeling. Your mind races in a dreamlike panic. 

He can’t seriously be asking Audrey to marry him, could he? 

There’s no way. There’s simply no chance that the Ben you’ve known for longer than you’ve been brewing tea would do something so… impulsive. Everything about Ben is calculated. Well thought through. Ben agonizes over each and every decision, he lies awake at night paralyzed by the potential consequences of each action, each choice not being thought all the way through and analyzed from every possible angle. If proposing to Audrey was even a thought in his mind, he would have told you about it. 

There’s simply no other way. There’s no possibility this was even an option in his mind. Just last week when you had quietly implied that maybe he should consider ending their relationship, his silence spoke louder than any words could have. You had seen that. You saw it in his eyes. There’s no way he could be changing his mind that quickly, and not consulting you - or someone about it? You know you would have gotten wind if he even implied he was toying with the notion. Ben does not flip-flop. So what is… this?

“Give me an L!”

Audrey’s face drops. Yours floods with relief. 

He’s not proposing. 

“C’mon, I can’t hear you!” Ben calls out into the mic, hyping up the crowd. They yell Mal’s name again at Ben’s encouragement. You think you see where he’s going with this. It makes sense - Jay and Carlos each got a big starring moment during the tourney game. Now, Ben is giving a shout out to Mal and Evie so they can share in the glory, and won’t feel left out. It’s a brilliant idea, you realize, but you still can’t figure out why he didn’t plan something like this ahead. Did he realize last minute that Mal and Evie might feel excluded? It’s possible. And right now, it’s the most rational explanation you have for this unusual behavior. Before you can feel too relieved, he leans into the mic. You wait for him to instruct the crowd to give him an E, beginning to spell Evie’s name, and-

“I love you, Mal!”

Your stomach drops. You freeze again, brow furrowed more than before. The world around you spins as you stand in the crowd, disoriented. He says it like a deathbed confession, the words tearing from his throat. Through your confused stupor, you can hear the sincerity, the yearning in his voice. 

What?

You don’t even think to look over at Audrey, but you’re sure as anything her expression is exactly the same as yours - completely and totally shell shocked. Probably moreso, you think, she is his girlfriend after all. But is she? Anymore, that is. You can’t imagine she would want to be after a display like that, after Ben publicly- 

Ben…

Ben. 

His gaze flicks over to you for a split second, not even long enough for you to silently ask him what the hell is going on. But it’s just long enough for you to see a flash of something. A look in his eye. Fear. Confusion. Everything you’re feeling for him right now. His attention is ripped forcefully back to Mal. Whatever was there, you can’t see it now. 

“Give me a beat!” Ben demands overzealously to the band. They start playing something for him, something loud and fast. Ben begins singing Mal’s praises. Literally. You’re still frozen, sick with a cold, confused feeling that makes the world around you feel like a strange dream. Unreal. You begin to question if you are dreaming. Through your dazed state - which you only later realize has begun to be accompanied by hot tears blurring your vision - you could swear you saw Mal and Evie share some sort of look, whisper knowingly. They giggle. Mal pulls a zip top bag of cookies out of her jacket pocket and they both start giggling. Laughing. 

A noise catches your scattered attention and you notice Ben has launched himself into the stands, crowd surfing to get all the way over to Mal. He climbs down, grabbing her waist and pulling her close. It’s so intense, so passionate, so unlike him to do something like that in public. You start to gasp, but you can’t. The stands are so loud, each noise feels like a gunshot deafening you. Your lungs feel like they’re being squeezed from the bottom up like paint tubes, gripped by an artist desperate for the last drops of cadmium yellow deep. 

His hand rests firmly on the small of her back.

Just like it does on yours.

Something sickening twists through you, contaminating your heart and sapping away at your strength. Audrey’s voice cuts through, piercing and shrill as she announces to Ben that Chad is her boyfriend now. You see them kiss in your peripheral vision, eyes still locked on the way Ben’s hand sits on Mal’s back. He doesn’t seem to notice Audrey either, or at the very least, he doesn’t acknowledge her. Normally you’d giggle privately at how much that would irritate her, but nothing so frivolous crosses your mind just then.

“I love you, Mal!” Ben exclaims into the microphone. “Did I mention that?”

He leans closer, aching for her, needing her. But she puts her hands on his chest, trying to keep more distance between them. 

“Mal,” he begs, panting as his breath fans across her face, his cheeks flushed. He grips her tighter, leaning closer until he’s practically dipping her. The crowd watches, shocked at the sight of Prince Ben - who is known for his diplomatic reserve and continuous composure - acting so bold in public. “Will you go to coronation with me?”

“Yes!” Mal’s response comes a little too easily. 

You stare off into space in his general direction, choked with disbelief. You feel so frightened and confused and unwelcome. It’s a cold, isolated feeling of strangeness you’ve been running from since you could walk. You knew what people said about Wonderlandians, what they whispered behind your back when they thought you couldn’t hear. It was always Ben who made that feeling go away. He had seen the change in you, too. The more time you spent together since you were littles, the more he included you and sent disapproving princely looks to anyone who dared to tease you or make you feel like you’re not a part of Auradon, the more it started to work. He saw you relax, saw you believe him when he said he was happy to see you. He saw the shame and paranoia from accepting the fact that everyone around you was teasing you behind your back, spreading lies and rumors fade away. 

Ben watched you grow into yourself the moment he showed you that you were safe to do so. Now, after ten years, that horrible feeling is back and Ben is gone. You turn, rushing out of the bleachers, hopping down to solid ground and turning underneath the stands. You’ve barely stopped before the world caves in around you, and the familiar scent of earth and night and the good kind of confusion envelop your senses, like a hug from your mother. 

You fall down the rabbit hole, and you weep. Shamelessly, loudly, uncontrolled. Your tears fly off into the air above you as you fall, no longer afraid of prying eyes. You cry and cry, losing your sense of time and space as you fall deeper and deeper away from the world that never seems to lose amusement in stinging you when you least expect it. You take in a breath, but before you can let it out as another aching sob, you’re plunged underwater. 

Your eyes flare open in the deep waves around you, the black void of a sky above. You kick yourself up to the surface, gasping as you tread the current carrying you downstream. The water splashes around you, getting into your mouth, and it’s salty. A stork sails by on a little wooden raft, adjusting her captain’s hat. “Well, that would do it!” She exclaims in a thick, Wonderlandian accent. “I was wondering what caused these high tides.” 

She maneuvers her raft towards you and hauls you onto it, her gangly legs wobbling awkwardly as she keeps her balance. She pulls a handkerchief out of her pocket and hands it to you, her long feathers tickling your fingertips. 

“Dry your eyes there, dearie, or else we’ll be having to build a new dam!” 

You sputter an apology, which she dismisses goodnaturedly, and begins singing a confusing sea shanty as she navigates the waves, coming and going as you try to calm yourself. After a few minutes, a particularly large wave pushes you two over the river’s edge and sends you spinning into the forest. 

“Well, there you have it.” She says, taking off her cap and dumping out water, sand, a few shells, and a very irritable codfish. She unties the strings of her raft, gathering up the large sticks used to make it into a bundle, and tucking them under her arm.

“Quite useful, you know,” She says softly, before handing you a piece of nicely shaped paper. It reads The Two Blwo’s Shipping Survise. “And if you ever need something lickety split, I do hope you’ll give me a call.”

She tilts her hat and lopes off through the woods into darkness. 

You plop yourself down on the nearest thing - a large, bioluminescent blue mushroom with little purple spots that makes a sound like a big deep drum when you sit down on it. Several smaller mushrooms varying in size scatter near the base of the one you’re seated on. As you pull your foot up to get comfortable, you graze a few of the litter ones, and let out different tones and types of drums too. Normally this would fascinate you. Normally you would be taking pictures, writing about them in your journal, and trying to learn how to play a song on them - if they’re in the right sort of temperament, of course. But today you don’t even notice.

Your mind is still spiraling, sucked down into a whirlpool of the day’s events. You go over and over what happened, hoping to make sense of it, but unable to really process anything. That was so strange, Ben is acting so strange. Why is he acting like that, you wonder. Did he hit his head? Has he somehow been possessed by a very extroverted poltergeist? Why would he do that? It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t even make nonsense. Even in Wonderland, there are still patterns, there are still rules and motivations for doing things. Even if those rules and patterns don’t make sense to anyone else, they’re still real. Wonderland is illogical and absurd, but it’s not purely random. 

You rock yourself comfortingly on the bouncy mushroom, the soft noise providing an ambiance that helps you start to think again. There’s no feasible pattern or non-pattern or non-pattern pattern to Ben’s behavior. If there were one, you would be able to find it, especially if you know him as well as you do. And you do. You glance down and see some beetles marching in a line, carrying leaf umbrellas to avoid any more falling tears. You wipe them from your cheeks quickly. 

“My apologies.” You say, your voice polite and fragile. The head beetle chirps, clicking his wings and tipping his hat. He ushers the others past your mushroom quickly, putting their leaf umbrellas onto an umbrella leaf bush nearby. 

A few bread-and-butterflies flitter over, carrying a tray of tea and cakes. They place it before you gently, brewing you a cup of blackberry earl grey with extra honey. You thank them, and they nod, flittering off and leaving a trail of buttery breadcrumbs as their wings flap. They land nearby, listening to you mutter to yourself as the line up to form a loaf. The tea and cakes are delicious, full of jam and honey, and they steady your nerves. You take in another breath, less shaky this time, and begin to think. Not panic, really think. 

“There has to be a reason,” you mumble out loud, “There simply has to be. Ben doesn’t just lose his composure like this. He’s not devoid of sensibilities and decision making. He’s worked so hard to hone his reputation as someone trustworthy, someone full of common sense and compassion, and that… being that person for Auradon is everything to him.”

You place down your tea cup firmly, brow furrowing as your confusion melts away to determination. 

“Everything! He would never do something so… impulsive, and foolhardy, and- and… not like him!” 

You stand up quickly, landing on your feet. 

“I must get to the bottom of this.” You pause. “Or top. Either way.”

You gather your things, fix your hair, and wring out the water from your dress. Even if Ben doesn’t care about his reputation anymore, about his future, the very future of Auradon and all who reside within it, you do. Your loyalty to Ben simply cannot be broken by a day like today.  You won’t let him throw away everything he’s worked towards for no reason. For any reason! If he’s just gone mad, that’s one thing to be dealt with. But there’s a good chance he’ll come back to his senses sooner or later, and you refuse to let everything to hell in a handbasket until he does. 

You are going to figure this out. You’re going to do as much damage control as needed until Ben is back to you and Back to himself. And he is going to come back to himself. You’re sure of it.

Filled with tea cakes and determination, you summon a rabbit hole back to Auradon, and jump through. You flip and twist through the darkness, falling past a bookshelf that floats along with you for a moment, offering a few titles that might prove useful. 

When light breaks the surface and you hear the cracking of polished stone floors, you climb through and emerge into the library. You dust the dirt off yourself and off your hands, setting down your books on a table. You begin to look around, rushing through the library and moving with purpose. You pull book after book off the shelves until you can hardly carry them to the checkout desk. Many of them will be fruitless, you’re sure, but anything is better than nothing in times like these.

“Doing some light reading, Ms. Liddell?” The librarian asks, chuckling at the imposing stack of books you’ve placed before her as she scans through them. 

“There’s nothing light about it, I’m afraid.”She looks up, surprised by the unusual heaviness to your voice, the sharp, focused determination. “Thank you, madam.” You say, grabbing all your books and marching off to your dorm. You have a lot of reading to get through.

[f10werfae]

Mr. Clingy and Kal

pairing: Henry Cavill x Actress!Shy!Oblivious!GF!Reader

summary: Fans retell the moments of Henry and Y/n L/n’s relationship despite her being quite the opposite of him. (major clingy Henry) (Requested by anon)

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️

Henry Masterlist, Full Masterlist, Taglist Form

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

@/fansdaily: Anyone see that Henry posted a mirror selfie of him and Y/n in his hotel room, her face hidden in his neck with her arms around his waist, WHILE HE IS KISSING HER FOREHEAD WITH AN ARM AROUND HER WAIST TO KEEP HER CLOSE. Can someone confirm if they’re dating already?? Seeing Henry with someone quieter than him is the best trope

@/barbraturth: Guys Henry just confirmed his and Y/n’s relationship on Instagram!! He posted a picture of Y/n and Kal walking in front of him, with the caption ‘my whole world right in front of me’!!

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@/Peoplesnews: Henry Cavill confirms year long romance with his female lead, Y/n L/n. The younger beautiful star has captured hearts all over the nation, not only for her shy nature, but also for her warm kind heart! We wish the happy couple the best♥️

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@/jointloveduo: Henry just spilled major details on a podcast😭 Apparently for the first two months he was supposedly “courting” Y/n by bringing her flowers and lunch nearly everyday AND SHE DIDNT EVEN REALISE. Instead during one of their extended vacations while on set, he took her swimming and because she’s a weak swimmer she held onto him the entire time. Then he says he kissed her under the sunset on the beach and they’ve been glued together ever since

>> @/lovebug101: I’ve been watching Y/n for years and i’m so glad she’s found someone perfect for her♥️ All of her exes have come out saying she’s too quiet for them, but we all know they jus can’t handle her beauty

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@/beautyandtheleast: I just saw THE Y/n L/n in pets at home with Kal, she was bringing him up and down the toy aisle until he chose something! Henry came up behind her and just hugged her, kissing her cheek and everything😭

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@/Purplerains: When Henry posted a video of him building his PC and then he panned the frame to Y/n who was on the other side of the table, building her own set of legos he bought her🫶 He got her the flowers from the botanical section

>> @/judywrench: “Why are you on the floor love? What are you doing?” When I heard Henry say that while videoing Y/n eating nachos while on the floor of their kitchen at 2am, I fell in love with their relationship. THEN HE JOINED HER AND THEY HAD A WHOLE SNACK SESSION

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@/mysterymachine69: Henry just posted a picture of Y/n laying face down on their bed, their blanket just above her waist AND I JUST WANNA ASK HOW SHE HAS NO BACNE? And was that a hickey I saw on her top left shoulder along with bite marks 😳

>> @/Badbieferrer: Did no one else notice the handcuffs on the bedside table, they’re so purple and fluffy. We always knew Henry was a kinky bastard, he’s completely ruined our Y/n 😂

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@/Loosecanon: Y/n said that before her and Henry dated, he used to help her get to sleep because he knew she had trouble sleeping in trailers. So he would accompany her until she fell asleep and even made her a sleep playlist full of songs he’d play during the day

>> @/cavillgyal1010: Did you see also for his birthday she took him out and absolutely spoiled him. Paid for his dinner and all the things he wanted to buy. What a girlboss.

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@/popincolour: Y/n took Henry to her niece’s sports contest and he started acting like the typical overprotective uncle. When she was knocked down by a boy, Henry started shouting at the referee like a madman😭

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@/HenryCavill: Proud to announce that my best girl, Y/n L/n, has just received her doctorate in (certain job) can’t be prouder to be her man♥️

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@/Pucygrinsh: Henry said that whenever they cuddle Y/n tucks her cold ass feet under his thighs to get warm and whenever he has food she always steals it off him even though she “isn’t hungry” Henry then said that the only way for him to actually get food is to kiss Y/n jus so he can taste it ☠️

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@/Rainbown: Henry and Y/n have their own kiss routine, first her forehead, cheeks, nose then lips.

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@/beautifull101010: Henry said he hates when Y/n wears lip gloss, because when he kisses her it gets all over him. SO NOW HE CARRIES AROUND WIPES FOR WHENEVER HE WANTS TO KISS HER AND THEN HE REAPPLIES THE LIP GLOSS FOR HER

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@/mjtochond: Y/n said in a recent podcast that whenever she needs to pee in the middle of cuddling, Henry will literally accompany her to the bathroom and just chat to her while sitting in the bath tub. What a cute idiot, he’s so in love with her it’s crazy.

>> @/Y/n/L/n: He’s so clingy it’s adorable, he’s like an extra Kal on my leg😭 Only Kal actually leaves me alone when I need the toilet

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@/Turtlensaps: The first time Henry saw Y/n without makeup was when she was having the flu real bad and Henry said she’s never looked so pure and beautiful. She had his sweats and hoodie on, her hair all over the place and all she wanted was hugs from him. Henry then went on to say that she didn’t let him kiss her but he stole one anyway and got sick the next week. SO THEN Y/N HAD TO PLAY NURSE NEXT😩

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@/Exposedtruth: Henry Cavill Spotted with long-term girlfriend Y/n L/n getting close by his childhood home in Jersey! Surrounded by his brothers and their children, the happy couple are seen to be cradling one of Henry’s nephews on their lap, a possible foreshadow for their own?! Y/n was wearing a stunning sun dress which matched Henry’s button up, the image definitely giving off a happy family. Where’s that ring Henry??

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Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @pandaxnienke @thereisa8ella @kimhtoo17 @beck07990 @vrittivsanghavi @dumb-fawkin-bitch @madebylilly @tinyelfperson @athena-roy @fdl305 @kebabgirl67 @mysticfalls01 @marvelgurl @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @princess-paramour @mansaaay @girl-of-multi-fandoms @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @alina02 @bookfrog242 @alexxavicry @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @sparklemarysunshine @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @aerangi @lastwandastan @hp-hogwartsexpress @angelmather1 @diyabhanushali1 @spencerreidat4am @keiva1000 @acornacre @ninasw0rld @ggmimitf @teti-menchon0604 @thebaileybugle @p4st3lst4rs @grxnde-dwt @kzhlvlysstuff @thoughtsofreid

[madhatterbri]

Tag Team | D.P.

Summary: Fem!reader is part of the TJD 2.0 & has been giving attitude towards her family since Raquel joined in. After a disagreement Liv suggests reader to take a walk, Reader then bumps into Tiffany Stratton who doesn’t have time with a reject. When reader demands a match with Tiffany from Pearce, Damian comes in asking for a match with Ludwig. Adam Pearce decides to do a mixed tag instead. Reader & Damian refuse to team up but realize they have no choice. After reader & Damian win, reader looks at Priest with dark eyes & kisses him. Backstage; TJD 2.0 watch with their mouths hanging open.

Requested by: Anonymous

Happy Friday Night Smackdown, babes. ❤️

Damian Priest Masterlist

WWE Masterlist

Taglist: @theworldofotps @smallestsnarkestgirl @mrsarcherofinfamy @terrortwinunicorn @brideofinfamy @miss-kuki-nz @hotwheels1108 @new-zealand-chic @magicalbuttertarts @keytothewardy @missbmc94

Anyone who had the misfortune of walking past Y/N knew to move out of the way as fast as they could. Nostrils flared, face hotter than the sun, and her chest heaving, she needed to avoid anyone and everyone at all costs. Apparently, Tiffany Stratton didn't get the memo.

"Awww, did your new family kick you out already?" Tiffany Stratton pouted. Y/N tried to push past her. The blonde wrestler stood in her way.

"I don't have time for this. Move," Y/N growled.

Tiffany didn't move a muscle. "It's Tiffy Time. Everyone has time, but it's me who doesn't have time for a little reject,"

Y/N balled her fist but stopped. Nia Jax was probably lingering somewhere in the shadows. The disgruntled wrestler currently had no allies with her since Liv and Raquel were now best buddies. She shook her head and walked away. There was only one person who could resolve this.

"I want a match with Tiffany. Tonight, next week, I don't care. The clock has struck midnight on that little bi-"

"I want a match against Ludwig, Pearce," Damian interrupted.

"Excuse me. I was here first," Y/N pointed out. Damian rolled his eyes and put his hand in her face.

"As I was saying. I need a match against Ludwig,"

Adam Pearce looked between the two wrestlers. An idea popped into his head.

When he saw Y/N slap Damian's hand out of her face, he knew this was the perfect plan.

"You want a match with Tiffany," Adam started and looked at Y/N. He turned to Damian. "And you want a match with Ludwig. Looks like we got an intergender match next week on RAW,"

"No, no, no, no, hold on. I'm a former champion. I don't need someone that'll slow me down," Damian insisted.

"I'm a former champion," Y/N mocked. "Congratulations, you lost it when you acted like a bully to your friends,"

"You two play nice and get your matches or not. What is it going to be?"

Damian and Y/N stared at each other. With hate filled eyes, they knew they had no choice but to accept the conditions.

"You will be hearing from my lawyers," she spoke. With a stomp of her foot, Y/N stormed away.

Damian sighed and rubbed his face in his hands. "Women,"

"ADAM!" Chelsea Green's shrill voice screeched.

The RAW general manager pinched his nose. "Tell me about it,"

Y/N stared in shock when the referee raised her hand along with Damian. They beat Ludwig and Tiffany clean. No outside interference or drama. She had been on a losing spree, and she couldn't believe it. Her tag team partner hadn't been as annoying to work with as she thought. Damian was an excellent partner and sometimes even sweet.

Her eyes worked their way up the Archer of Infamy. His bare chest heaved while trying to catch his breath. He just performed South of Heaven on Ludwig to seal the win. Y/N shook her hand out of the referee's grasp. She walked over to Damian.

With dark eyes, she wrapped her arms around his neck. He leaned down to hug her. She kissed him. A sweet peck with her eyes closed. She pulled away before Damian could process what happened to him.

As the audience roared, Y/N rolled under the bottom rope. She sat on the apron of the ring. Her head was in her hands as she thought about what she had just done. Damian was public enemy number one to her group.

Y/N slipped off the ring. She started to walk up the ramp. Her eyes avoided looking into the camera and the towdy crowd.

Meanwhile, in the back, the new Judgment Day stared. Their mouths hung open in shock.

[pitchsidestories]

10 Things I Hate About You (4) II Alexia Putellas x Reader

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I Masterlist I word count: 2687

A/N: Thank you so much for over 600 followers ! We hope you enjoy the requested finale of the 10 Things I Hate About You series. ❤️

Barcelonas next game ended with a 1:0 win against Atletico Madrid. Adrenaline was still rushing through your veins when the referee blew the final whistle while your teammates surrounded you, congratulating you on your goal in the 76th minute.

Alexia and you shared a short smile. You gave her a grateful nod. Her spectacular pass set you up for success. Before you two could exchange words of appreciation, Lieke Martens pointed towards the pitchside where a journalist with a microphone in hand stood; "They want you two to answer the press questions."

You sighed, feeling the man’s attention on you; "Can‘t we just celebrate our win in peace?" With a shrug, Alexia passed you; "This is our job too." "Plus, it would be boring without the goal scorer.", Mapis voice appeared behind you. Her hands grabbing your shoulders and gently pushing you into the direction of the camera.

Laughing, you held up your hands; "Okay, okay, I‘m coming." Alexia turned back to you with a wink; "Good girl." You caught up with her and bumped your hip against hers; "Do I have to remind you who scored?" "Remind the reporters.", Alexia rolled her eyes with a smile. "Not necessary, I think they saw it.", you whispered as you approached the journalist who beamed at you two.

"Congrats on you win!", he greeted you. You smiled politely; "Thank you." "That was a great win. Must feel good, right?", he grinned. You poked Alexias upper arm with your finger; "Yes but as our captain here loves to remind us all the time, it‘s still a long way to go." "It is.", Alexia agreed.

Apparently, she had caught the journalist’s attention; "Alexia, did you enjoy your assist tonight or would you have preferred to score yourself?" "A goal is always great but if the team wins and I made an assist, that‘s okay too.", she replied, the corners of her mouth slightly lifting.

Satisfied with both of your performance, you added; "To be fair, it was great that something from training transferred so well to the match." "We worked hard on our on-field communication.", Alexia nodded.

The face of the journalist lit up with interest; "Could you tell us more about that." "Well, maybe some team events helped with that too.", you laughed, but Alexias’s face went serious again; "And extra training sessions." "Exactly, but it was worth it." The journalist nodded slowly; "We can see that. What do you expect from the next games?"

"We‘ll continue to build on that.", Alexia answered courtly. "And hopefully score a few more goals.", you smirked. Finally, Alexias expression softened; "It‘s your turn for an assist now." "I‘ll be ready." "Thank you for your time.", the journalist ended the interview. "Thank you."

Mapi waited for you to right in front of the tunnel; "They couldn’t get enough of you two." "It was just a couple questions. Like usual.", Alexia shrugged, walking past Mapi and straight into the dressing room. While Mapi and you followed her, you explained; "Honestly, it was nothing special, Mapi."

“Sure.”, the defender shrugged.  Annoyed with your teammate Alexia demanded from the younger player: ”Maps, stop looking at us like that.” “Fine, is like that better.”, Mapi grimaced. The midfielder shook her head in amusement: “No.” “You’re no fun.”, the defender sighed dramatically.

You winced when Leila suddenly stepped from the dark to the light parts of the tunnel, wearing a bright grin on her face:” Oh Ale had fun during the interview though.” “You two are so annoying.”, Alexia stated.

A devilish smile appeared on Mapis lips: “You know what’s more annoying?” “That we paused the celebrations for that unnecessary conversation?”, you asked her. Teasingly your captain added: “That you talk too much?” “Now but you’ll realize that in time.”, the blonde defender promised.  Immediately Alexia gave her a frowning look:”What?”

“Mapi, you played great.”, your sister exclaimed cheerfully. The cheeks of Mapi were turning red because of her compliment. Even though you secretly thought they would make an adorable couple you couldn’t help but saying out loud:” Mapi, comes first, huh?”

“Sorry, you played great too.”, she answered blushing. Now it was Alexia who assisted your sister instead of you with reassuring her:  “Ignore her, your sister casually wants to remind everyone who scored the important goal tonight.” “Not true!”, you playfully hit her arm.

Innocently your sibling looked between you two:” She couldn’t have done it without that fantastic assist.” “That’s true.”, you had to admit this much. Was that gratefulness in Alexias eyes, it must have been when she whispered: “Thank you.”

Something between your captain and you had change, and it wasn’t solely because you won that game. But you were too scared to further think about what the change was and what it exactly meant for the both of you.

You could hear your sister speaking softly to your teammate:” Mapi, I can’t believe they manage to talk like normal people now.” “Wait for it.”, louder Mapi continued, turning her heads toward the older player, Ale can you believe it? She has not seen the coast outside of Barcelona yet?!”  “You haven’t?!”, Alexia’s shock was written all over her face.

Nervously you put a loose hair string behind your ear: ”No, I haven’t found the time for that yet.” “How long have you been here now? Do you only play football and sleep?”, your captain pressed on. Her fury caught you off guard. She was the one in the team whose life was centred around football the most. “A few months. And no, I go to the university too.” “Still. You haven’t seen anything of Barcelona yet.”, Alexia muttered in disbelief.  

Quite offended by her reaction you tried to defend yourself:“I saw the city.” “The touristy spots, right.”, she shot back, letting you almost no time to breath. Looking at her was enough to continue to rant:” Knew it. Be ready tomorrow morning. I’ll pick you up before sunrise.” “Okay, captain.”, you replied too stunned in what direction your conversation went. Satisfied Alexia nodded:” Good.”

She already turned away from you to leave when you finally were able to gather your thoughts again; "Will Nala join us?" "Seriously?", Alexia replied, more annoyed than surprised. You shrugged with an innocent grin; "Just asking.""At this point, I think you like the dog more than me.", she rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her amusement.

"Possible…" "Wow." "I’m just joking… With your dog, I can’t play like we did today.", you joked. Alexia tilted her head in thought before turning away from you again; "Probably not. I’ll see you tomorrow… with Nala." She smiled at you over her shoulder and left.

When Alexia arrived at your apartment the next morning, it was dark still dark outside. Yawning, you opened the door for her. For a second, you stopped mid-yawn. She looked so put together for that time of day. "Morning.", she greeted you. You stepped aside to let her in.

"Morning. It‘s still so early so I made us two coffees to go.", you replied and led her into your kitchen where you handed her a to-go cup. Gratefully, she took it but her gaze was fixed on you; "Thanks. Uhm…" "Yes?", you prompted her to go on.

She cleared her throat; "You might want to put on something other than your PJ pants." She took a sip of her coffee, but you caught her smiling smugly into her cup before you looked down, only to find that you were still in your plaid flannel pants. "Oh my god. Wait right here, I’ll be back in a minute.", you laughed about yourself and disappeared into your bedroom to change.

While you slipped into a pair of soft cotton pants, your eyes met Alexias in the mirror. You must have forgotten to close the bedroom door. "Stop staring.", you grinned. Your teammate hid another smile in her coffee; "I’m not." "Sure, Alexia. I‘m ready, we can go.", you replied with a smirk, taking your own coffee and your bag. "Finally. We can’t miss the sunrise."

You followed her to her car. It was too early still, so you both were silent for most of the ride. Only the radio was playing quietly. Alexia parked close to a beach just as the first rays of sunlight came up. The beach was completely empty. You both sat down in the cold sand and watched in awe.

"This is beautiful.", you whispered. Alexia smiled to herself; "I told you, you can’t miss this." "Thank you for taking me here." "You’re welcome, really." You looked at Alexia. The morning light painted her in a golden glow, and you couldn’t help but stare. "Maybe there is more than just uni, football and sleep.", you admitted. Alexia nodded; "There is. Trust me."

You closed your eyes letting the sound of the waves wash over you:” Like moments like these. I wish one could collect them into a jar and when one has a bad day or time you could open it and feel the joy from that day again.” Memories of the times you were injured came back to the surface level of your mind.

With a free hand you let the sand rinse through your fingers to distract yourself from those images.  “But if you could go back to this moment all the time.. would you not lose the joy of this moment?”, Alexia asked you carefully. “I’ve not thought about that yet but you’re probably right it would lose what made the moment special in the first place.”

With a serious smile the midfielder confessed: “It would. I like coming here in the morning when no one’s here yet.” “I can see why.”, you told her. Almost shy, Alexia turned her face back to the water: “It’s nice and quiet.” There was something between you that clearly wasn’t there before. Her grin deepened while she added:” Well, usually. When I’m alone with Nala.”  “Oh, trust me I can do quiet too.”, you announced as you pulled out the book of your bag which you were currently reading.

Your teammate shook her head slightly:” You know I was just joking, right? But it’s so cool, you look so at peace right now.” “That’s because I am if there was not a voice interrupting my peace.”, you teased her, in the meantime Narla took refuge in your lap.  Your comment earnt you an eyeroll by your captain: “Sorry.”

Even in her annoyance you had to admit that she looked beautiful as the sun made her skin appear golden. “Wait, you look so pretty in that light.”, you exclaimed before taking a photo of her. A surprised laugh escaped Alexia’s mouth: “What are you doing?”

“Taking a picture of you because you looked quite happy, so I tried to capture that on camera.”, you stammered.  With a stern look on the midfielder’s face, she urged you: “Give me the camera.”

 “Okay.”, you handed her your camera, it was one of the thing’s you treasured most as it reminded you of the parent you had lost and shared that passion with.  Your teammate seemed satisfied with that object in her hands: “Thanks.”

So, you continued reading your book peacefully, during the reading you somehow managed to steal your captains green cap but she was too immersed in taking pictures of you.

You both enjoyed the silence of the early morning and each others company. But with the time passing, the beach started to fill. With a sigh, you closed your book and looked up to Alexia; "Do you think we should head back? It‘s getting crowded." "Yes, let‘s leave.", Alexia agreed, stood up and brushed the sand off her jeans. You put your book back into your bag anf followed suit; "Alright."

"Come on, Narla!", Alexia called her dog and you three walked back towards her car. You watched the landscape pass on your way home but with each passing minute, you could feel your eyes closing. You didn’t even realize you fell asleep until Alexia stopped her car in front of your building. "We’re already there?", you yawned.

"Yes. But you don’t have to get out yet. I can drive around the block for a little longer.", Alexia suggested. You were taken aback by the thoughtfulness. "I want to stay for a little while longer if that’s okay.", you admitted, your cheeks turning slightly red. Alexia smiled softly and started her car again; "Alright. Go back to sleep then."

Narla cuddled onto your lap and her warmth made you immediately fall asleep again. When you woke up again, you realized that only a few minutes must have passed. The sun was still high up in the sky and you were still driving through your neighborhood.

Once again, Alexia stopped in front of your appartment. You turned towards Alexia; "Thank you for the day. I really enjoyed it." "Me too.", she replied. You leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek; "So, I’ll see you in training tomorrow?" A light blush spread across Alexias face; "Uhm… yes, sure." Smiling, you got out of her car; "Perfect."

Before you could open your front door, you paused on the sidewalk as you realized you were still wearing Alexias green cap. At the same time, Alexia opened her car window; "Hey?" "Yes?", you turned around. She nodded towards your head; "You should keep it. It looks cute on you." "Thanks.", you absentmindedly touched the cap. "Wait.", Alexia called again while getting out of her car and crossing the distance between you two. "Huh?", you asked before her lips were suddenly on your lips.

You stared at her; "Wait, what was that?" "I don’t know.", she answered truthfully, obviously confused herself. You grabbed her by the wrist; "No, do it again please." "You don’t have to tell me twice." A smile appeared on Alexias face. She kissed you again. This time, more patiently but just as hungry.

A loud squeal came from Mapi’s mouth when she spotted you wearing Alexia’s cap right before your team training was about to start: ”Oh my god!” “Mapi, it’s not a big deal.”, the captain reassured the defender who was beaming at your sight. Amused you added: “Honestly, calm down, Mapi.”

“Don’t tell me you’re dating.”, your teammate almost screamed excitedly. “Well, I hate to say it, but we don’t hate each other anymore.”, you winked at her.  Cheerfully Mapi pulled out her smartphone from her pocket:“So that’s a yes! I’ll have to call your sister.”

“About damn time you call her, while you’re at It you should tell her that you would love to go on a date with her Mapi!”, Alexia suggested grinning. Inspired by what she saw the younger player nodded: ���You know what? Maybe I will.” “Don’t worry, she’ll say yes.”, you encouraged her. With a cheeky smile she asked:” Like you did to Ale?”

“Yes.”, you replied, placing a kiss on Alexias lips, making her blush in front of all your teammates. But the midfielder didn’t mind, she pulled you even closer, kissing you hungrily like she was starving before.

2023

Without a knock Mapi stormed into your hotelroom giving you each a scolding look:” You two should be asleep now.” “Mapi!”, Alexia frowned at her. The defender ignored her and clicked with her tongue:” Did you got lost in telling you love story again? Don’t worry I can tell that in my best woman speech for your wedding.”

“Who said you’ll be the best woman?”, the midfielder looked challenging at her. Playfully offended the younger player stopped moving:  “I’m not!?”  “Of course, you’re.”, Alexia answered laughing. “Well, I hope so!”

Softly you continued the captain’s sentence:” We know what you did to make us realize that we fell for each other.” Satisfied with that you went on to talk for a couple of minutes before she went to her room with Ingrid.

You secretly even worked on a sonnet for your wedding day, writing all the things you once claimed to hate about Alexia but actually you didn’t because these were parts of her you came to love.

[mastermindmiko]

hi,

i’m currently in my bill weasley phase aha

i was wondering if i could have gut wrenching angst and maybe fluff i need something to just cause pain aha

it’s okay if not :)

Hey, I know this is very long overdue but it's finally here! You asked for angst, and angst you shall receive. I hope I did it justice. More (Bill Weasley Fanfiction)

content warnings: none I believe, but lmk, kissing maybe? not edited Pairing: Bill Weasley + fem!reader word count: 9201 (sorta got carried away) Summary: You and Bill were always friends, until there was something more.

a/n: Trying my best to finish all the requests I've got and simply just posting more. Also, I tried this little thing were I did a sort of rhyming (don't want to call it poetry cause that's too big a compliment) to start off the ff, you can sort of see it like a summary maybe too.

It all starts out the same way, with a girl and a boy that meet when they were small then grow until they’re tall. They grasp each other's hands, holding their stance as their friendship solidifies until there’s a shift, a switch, a fully expected change that takes things from where they were to where they are now. 

There were only ever a few things that I cared about; My family, my friends, my future and my Bill. He never fit into neither the first nor the second categories as it was simply just different with him. Living only a few kilometres away from the Weasleys ensured that I spent most of my time with him, and as we both went to Hogwarts it only made me want to sew him to my side even more. 

“Hey, why do the Weasleys call you Honey?” 

“Ummm, it involves an incident where I ended up being a large tub of honey.” I explain as vaguely as I can, still trying to erase the embarrassing story out of my head. Tonks looks at me weirdly before waving her hand, “I don’t even want to know.”

I spent ten years of my life being Bill’s friend, best friend even, watching as his family got bigger and so did he. He developed his interests and I developed mine when all I thought of him was a friend, and none of that changed until-

“Do you think Bill’s hot?” 

Nymphadora- Tonks asked me one day. I look up from my lunch and ask her, “What?” 

“You know Bill- you’re friend, tall, ginger-” 

“I know who Bill is…” I trail off, and I think of what she just asked, now that we were fifteen (practically adults), everyone started falling for people left and right, while I just focused on Quidditch and OWLs. Bill was doing the same as me, we would study together, practise together, there just wasn’t enough time building a future and also doing normal typical teenager stuff. 

“You gotta admit, he’s gotten mighty fit over the summer.” Tonks said, and I looked at the girl who’s two years younger than me disapprovingly. Despite being in different years and houses, we shared the same lunch period. I scold, “Aren’t you a bit too young to be thinking of things like that?” 

“I just call it like I see it.” She replies, and then eyes me up and down with a grin on her face. I blush and push her shoulder. She laughs and I smile a bit myself. There’s a beat then she asks again, “You didn’t answer my question…do you think that Bill’s hot?” 

I look around trying to recall in my memory the most accurate picture of Bill I could conjure up. He’s definitely gotten taller. I remember how I used to be able to ruffle his hair without having to step on my tiptoes- and his hair’s gotten longer, much to Molly’s disapproval. He’s gotten a bit more tan from spending all that time out in the sun, making his freckles more apparent. 

All that time in the sun playing quidditch also changed his physique a bit. His shoulders are broader, his biceps and thighs thicker. Hands are larger and stronger. I recall the last game of the summer, only a few weeks ago, where every member of the Weasley family was playing, Ginny being the referee as she was still very small. I was the beater, as always. Bill was the chaser, and we were on opposite teams. Halfway through the game, two hours in, we were still playing and Bill decided to throw some water over his head, cooling him off. The water soaking his hair, arms and shirt, making it cling to his body-

“You totally think he is!” Tonks exclaims, and brings me out of my daydream. I feel my face flare up and I stutter as I defend myself, “It’s not that, it’s just yes, he’s fit but he’s my friend, so he’s just that, he’s just fit.” 

Tonks is still giving me that cheeky grin when I decide that that’s enough of that interaction, so I stand up, deciding to just stay in class for the next fifteen minutes till class starts. I say, “Well, I gotta go. Bye Tonks.” 

She shakes her head, and waves while I headout of the Great Hall. I pull out a piece of paper from my bag as I look at my schedule, I turn around to move the other way, when I see Potions scrawled up on the parchment. I shiver as I enter the dungeons and hope that Professor Snape doesn’t mind me waiting till class begins, I could prep the cauldron while I wait. 

I walk through the dark silent hallways, hearing the echoes of each step I take. A large hand encompasses my shoulder, and I turn around quickly lifting my wand from my waist band. I point my wand to the face of my attacker and I meet with the grinning face of Bill Weasley. I relax as Bill takes the wand out of my hand and places it inside my belt loop, a normal occurrence, if it weren’t for the fact that his face is close to mine and I notice just how sharp and angular it is. 

“Tonks told me you were heading to class, what are you doing going to potions this early? Snape barely tolerates Gryffindor’s when he has to.” Bill says, and push his hand off my shoulder, and he chuckles. I say, “Snape actually likes me, and don’t act like that when you're practically his favourite.” 

“It’s only cause I’m the best.” He grin, cockily, and he taps his head, pointing towards his brain. I push his shoulder playfully and reply, “Second best.” 

***

The Gryffindor common room fills with the sounds of both Muggle and wizard music. The smell of alcohol and sweat from the mixing bodies encases the area. A muggle born brought a machine that flickers light in different hues of different colours, having the lights bounce off the walls, as people dance in the centre of the room, and the chatter fills. 

I’m standing against some wall, holding a cup of butterbeer that was gathered from an illegal trip to Hogsmeade only a few hours ago after the win for the house. I never did drink much alcohol and especially not during Quidditch season. This was the first year I’ve been able to participate in the parties that Gryffindor house threw, and it was exciting, but much more boring than I expected. 

I’m watching the room, looking around, seeing a young Percy trying to make his way up to the boy’s dormitories as swiftly as he could while carrying two books that are twice the size of his head. Some drunk seventh years, push him, unintentionally, Percy glares at them nonetheless. I move towards him, pushing away the couples that might as well just get a room. I fling my arm around Percy’s shoulder, nod my head towards the stairs. I carry one of the books from him and we walk towards the dormitories. 

He rushes up the stairs as fast as he can as soon as he’s out of the sea of bodies. I call out his name, and despite the loud music, he turns to me, guiltily. I say, “We’ve told you a million times that you can’t stay out this loud, especially after curfew, even if it is to study.” 

“I know, I know…you won’t tell Bill?” Percy asks, lips pursed and ashamed. I sigh and give him the other book back and reply, “Not if you don’t do it again.” 

He grins from ear to ear, large glasses slipping off his nose. He laughs, “Thank you, Honey!” He wastes no second before running up the stairs once again, and I can just barely hear the sounds of the footsteps fade away before I walk away. 

I drink the last bit of the butterbeer in my cup. I go to the opposite side of the room, grimacing as people shove me around. I stand by the drinks table and start to look around for the butterbeer bowl, when I notice a mop of red hair, reaching for the firewhiskey. I shake my head and sneak up behind the unsuspecting Weasley. I reach forward and grab a handful of his hair, and pull him back. 

“Ow! Ow! Ow!” Charlie chants, while I pull him by his hair. His hands lift up and try to loosen the grip that my fingers had on his hair. I threaten, “Put the cup down.” 

He frowns but (reluctantly) puts it down. I pull him by his hair once again and push him towards, once again the stairs of the dormitories. The place is quieter there, and I can scold him properly. We reach near the top of the first year boy’s dormitories, and I leave his hair. He rubs his head, and looks at me with a frown.

“What in Merlin’s name did you think you were doing?”  I say, while placing a soft (sort of) slap on the back of his head. He swats my hand away after, and continues to rub his head. He pouts, “Stop ruining my best feature.” 

“No, your best feature is your Quidditch skills, not your stupid hair that needs to be cut.” I scold, and look at him, disappointed. I continue, “What did you think you were during? Trying to drink Firewhiskey of all things!” 

A drunk seventh year passes us and shouts, “Yeah little Weesilie, you should try something lighter for your first time.” 

“Bugger off!” I shout at him, and I turn back to Charlie. I rant, “There’s a reason why people below fifth year aren’t allowed to be at parties and being at parties includes alcohol, so until a few more years, you’re not allowed to have any-” 

“A few more years! I’m fourteen as soon as I hit that big 15 like you and Bill, I’m gonna have some.” Charlie says, and he complains, “All my friends have some, and so do you and Bill, why can’t I? It’s just one year.” 

“A year is a long time, Charlie, and so what if all your friends are doing bad things, doesn’t mean you should to, besides Bill and I don’t even like to drink. Even when you turn 15, you’re not going to be able to drink a lot because you’re a seeker, Charlie!” I reply, and he huffs and folds his arms together. 

“That still doesn’t mean that I won’t try it.” Charlie pouts, and he looks down at the floor. I start to feel a little bad for being too hard on him, so I pull him in for a hug, surprised as to how he’s my height now. I say, “If you want to, you could, but until then, it’s off limits.” 

I smile at him, and ruffle his hair a bit. I pull my hand back then put it back on his hair again, and play with a few locks. His face flushes, and he grins at me when I say, impressed, “You weren’t lying, you definitely have the best hair.” 

“You must be lying because you’ve seen my hair.” Bill interrupts and he walks out of the first year boy’s dorms. Charlie looks at me with a panicked look, and I contemplate if I should tell Bill about what just transpired. I play, “No, I have, Charlie’s hair is just better.” 

Charlie pokes his tongue out at Bill, and I grin, and Bill slaps the back of Charlie’s head. Charlie grimaces and mumbles, “You two really are best friends…” 

“Go on, back to your dorm, now.” I say, and he rushes up the stairs. Bill sits down on the stairs and he pulls me down by his hand. I notice how large his hand is compared to mine. I sit down beside him, on the other side of the steps and he sits opposite to me, backs against the walls of the spiralling staircase. Bill asks, “What was he doing down there?” 

“Got lost, I guess…” I trail off, deciding that Charlie’s learnt his lesson. Bill looks back at the first year dorms, and he explains, “One of Percy’s friends, Oliver, found me and said that he couldn’t find Percy, he was afraid that Percy got trampled or squished by the people at the party-” 

We both laugh, and he continues, “Then a few minutes later, Percy walks in, alright and everything…so, thank you.” 

“Hey, I had nothing to do with it, Percy’s very smart.” I say, keeping Percy’s secret. Bill fiddles with the carpeted floor of the stairs and he replies, “I know you he is, but I also know that you helped, he was out at the library again, just like you helped Charlie.”

I don’t say anything and so, Bill smiles at me, and he says, “You don’t have to take care of them, it’s my responsibility, I can do it myself.” 

“I know you can, but they’re sort of like my little brothers too, so I want to.” I reply, and we sit in the silence for a bit. It was a completely normal moment, Bill and I never felt the need to fill in the silence, but for some reason, he asked, “Does that mean that you think I’m your brother too?” 

The question takes me off guard, and my heart lurches to my throat. My eyes flicker between his, searching for the right answer. Maybe for the first time ever, I find Bill hard to read. I choose to give him the truth, so I think of what that is. I couldn’t classify Bill as a sort of family, but I also don’t know where I would put Bill. I opt for the simple answer , not wanting to think about more. I didn’t even know if there was more. I replied, “No…” 

He shuffles a bit closer and the air is charged between us. I pull my knees together and pull them to my chest, to make way for him to come closer. I brush an annoying lock out of my eyes, not wanting to spend a second not looking at him. He says, abruptly, "You're very handsome…”

He notices what he’s said and he flushes, I let out a small laugh and notice the way his face heats up, and how mine is also red. The contrast between his brownish red freckles and his skin and the way his nose seems to be at a perfect angle, Bill honestly was just so- “You’re pretty too”

He smiles at my comment, and he looks at my eyes, and I wonder what he’s thinking. Why can’t I understand what he’s doing? When have I ever not understood what he’s doing? Ever since Tonks made me realise how drop-dead gorgeous Bill is, I-

“If I’m not your brother, what am I then?” He asks, and he searches my eyes for the answer that I don’t even know myself. He isn’t my friend, it feels wrong to say it, and I don’t know what other thing Bill could be for me, but we’ve been friends for a decade now. I answer, “I don’t know.” 

“Friend?” 

“I don’t know.” I repeat, and I look down at the floor, not being able to stand his piercing blue eyes trained on me anymore. His hand grazes my cheek, pushing the hair behind my ear, the contact makes me shoot up to look at his eyes. It feels different, so much more different than any other look we’ve shared before. He adds, “I don’t know either…” 

His hand cups my cheek, and it feels so much more, but what even is more between Bill and I? He brushes his thumb over my cheekbones, and he leans in. My legs part slightly, so he can shift closer. I didn’t even realise what I’d done till he was only a few centimetres away from my face. He looks at me, searching, and then down to my lips. 

My breath hitches, and I can see his chest heave. My lips part under his gaze, and he leans closer. Maybe this is what more means for us? I don’t know what could happen after but I know this-I lift my hand up to encase his wrist. His eyes flicker back to mine, and I say, “You’re never going to be the same to me after this.” 

“You haven’t been the same to me in a while.” His last words before he gives me one last look before he kisses me. 

***

The summer passed by in a blur where it’s nothing but hazy memories of Bill. It’s not a surprise that I spend most of my summer at the Weasleys with my parents working all around the world. The surprise is the way Bill grasps my hand under the table, and the whispers between us are now sweet not taunts and games. 

He would send me cheeky smiles and flirty grins across the room. He would wake me up in the middle of the night and take me from Ginny’s room so we could go watch the stars outside the Burrow, laying on the grass, just like now…

“I can’t believe that we’re about to go back to Hogwarts in two days.” Bill says, as he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me impossibly close to him. Contact has never been unknown between us, but this was entirely new. I run my hands through his long hair, and I sigh, “Yeah, two more years and we’re out of Hogwarts.” 

“Everything will change…” I trail off, scared of what’s to come, when we’re getting real jobs and we’re not sheltered anymore, out to fend for ourselves. Bill looks at me and I can see the stars shine from his eyes, and it’s a mesmerising sight. Bill pecks my lips before saying, “Not us, never us.” 

I smile as he nuzzles his face into my neck, and I wrap my arms around his back. I hope he’s right, I really do hope he is. I don’t know what I could do without Bill. I wonder if his family knows about us, if they feel what’s changed. The only one who does know is poor Percy when he wandered off in the library only to find us snogging in between the bookshelves. 

The other person who knows about us is Charlie but that’s because the boy was smart when it comes to things like these. He noticed the blush on my cheeks first then Bill’s smiles and then one day he dropped his spoon under the table during dinner and he saw our legs intertwined. He didn’t mention it at first until the next day, when he did the same thing on purpose, and he noticed Bill holding my hand. 

He spent the entirety of that week trying to find us doing something. When we were together, he would suddenly burst through the door screaming, ‘AHA!’, and then he’d find us playing cards on the floor. We realised what he was doing early on, but we let him have his fun, until one day, he gave up and burst through the door once again, and said, “Why won’t you guys tell me that you’re dating?” 

I answered first, “Because we aren’t…” 

Bill nodded along, but Charlie looked beyond confused. He questioned us; Do you hold hands? Spend time together? Act all cute and annoying? Kiss each other? Bill replied yes to all of the questions and then Charlie asked us why we weren’t dating already, and I couldn’t help but wonder the same thing as well. 

I run my hands through his hair and I ask, tentatively, “Bill…” 

He hums, and I try to find the courage to ask before it’s all gone and forgotten because I need to know. I try to ask the most dreaded question in the world, in a confident matter like it didn’t matter at all to me what his answer might be, instead I stutter, “I-What are we?” 

He pauses, tenses, a few seconds pass then he lifts his head out of the crook of my neck and he hesitates, “I don’t know.” 

A beat passes, and I press, “I mean, when we go back-to Hogwarts, and some girl asks you out, what will you say?” 

He reaches the hand that was wrapped around my waist and rubs the back of his neck. He replies, “I don’t know.” 

“What if a guy asks me out?” I ask, scanning for answers in his eyes, hoping to elicit a reaction that he would care if he were to share me with someone else, that he’s mine and I am his. He shrugs his shoulders and says, “You’ll just say what you want to say.” 

He puts back his arm around my waist and he puts his face back into the crook of my shoulder. I sigh, unsatisfied with the answer. I place my hands back into his hair and play with the long ginger strands. His breath tickles my neck and he starts planting kisses on my shoulder. He trails them up to my neck and I sigh, contently. He begins to nibble and suckle the skin while I begin to tug on his hair. 

He lowers his hand that’s on my waist, bit by bit till he reaches my butt. He squeezes firmly causing me to gasp and press my hips forward towards him. I feel it, I feel him and Merlin, he’s- His hand trails lower to my thighs and it encourages me to sling my leg around his hip. His mouth moves up to my jaw, and then to my mouth. His tongue slips inside my mouth and he pushes his hips against mine. He groans and I pull away, I ask, “Here?” 

“What if your parents wake up, or someone notices? We can not traumatise someone else like we did with Percy and Charlie-” Bill silences me by pressing his lips against mine and that’s when I feel him start to harden underneath me. I moan as I wrap my legs more firmly around him as I press our hips tightly together. Bill pulls back this time, and he looks over at me, my hair sprawled everywhere and I feel the heat in my face. I press my hands to my cheeks feeling the difference in temperature. I ask, “Is my face red? It feels like it is.” 

Bill smiles and pulls my hands down and kisses me. He replies, “No, it’s perfect.” 

***

Bill Weasley is my first everything, kiss, first time, first whatever this thing was, and first heartbreak even if we technically didn’t stop. I was alright with it, I was because it felt like he was just as into me as I was into him. Just because we didn’t label the thing that we had doesn’t mean that we have to. It’s Bill, and I trust him. 

It was all going alright, more than alright, it was great, there wasn’t a moment that I didn’t spend with him, and I was so sure that I was falling for him, if I hadn’t already. I was on my way to Ancient Runes when I heard Bill’s voice, I perked up, until I heard another female voice with him. I slow down and I overhear the conversation. 

“Do you?” The female voice asks. 

“No, I uh, I don’t.” Bill

“So, you don’t have a girlfriend?” I can hear the grin in her voice

“Nope, I’m single.” 

I feel my eyes well up and I take a few deep breaths willing them away before deciding that I’m going to be taking a different route, and I end up late to class. The thing that I was worried about happened, and ugh, what am I going to do with myself if he does end up getting a girlfriend and it’s not me? 

I avoided Bill like the plague for a week, the only Weasleys I’m speaking to were Charlie and Percy, but even then it hurt, they looked so much like him. I cried more than I’m proud of, and even when Bill did try to talk to me, I would simply just walk away. 

It’s been exactly a week since I overheard Bill and I’m on my way to ancient runes once more. Someone calls my name, and Edgar Bones walks over to me. I wait for him to catch up and he smiles at me with a boyish grin. Bones asks, “You need a walk to class?” 

“Umm, I’m alright.” I reply, and walk on, but Bones follows. He walks along beside me and says, “Well, I’d like to give you one if you don’t mind.” 

I don’t reply and simply make my way to class, hoping that Bill wouldn’t get the wrong idea seeing me and Bones- wait, why should I care about what Bill thinks? He’s not my boyfriend as he’s made it very clear to some girl. I take Bill out of my mind and walk on. Bones walks beside me, an appropriate distance away. Halfway through the walk he looks towards me and asks, “Would you like me to carry your books?” 

“No, I’m alright.” I reply and adjust my bag over my shoulder and the books that are on my arm. I wonder what he might be doing walking me to class. Over the past six years, we’ve only had a few conversations all involving school or Quidditch. Nonetheless, he reaches over and grabs the books out of my arm, and I mumble a thank you at the kind gesture. 

We reach the door of the class, and I stand there. I look around while noticing Bones shuffling on his feet. I decide to be blunt and ask, “Bones, we’ve talked about four times since we’ve known each other, why are you walking me to class and holding my books?” 

“I-uh, I know this is out of the blue for you, but I-” He cuts himself off and looks around nervously. His gaze falls on something behind me and I look around to see McLaggen giving Bones two thumbs up, I look back at Bones confused and he clears his throat. He asks, “Would you like to go out with me?” 

It’s my turn to look around nervous, and shuffle awkwardly on my feet. I reply, “It’s just that we don’t know each other that well.” 

“I was hoping we’d get to do that over some butterbeer.” He says, and I notice the red tint on his cheeks. The silence is tense. I think it over; Bones is quite fit, and he’s one of the smartest people in Hufflepuff, I’ve heard he’s actually quite kind also. Besides, not like anyone is holding me back anymore. I say, “Sure then.” 

He beams and he raises his hand up in a thumbs up, no doubt to show McLaggen, it’s sort of cute, if you think about it. He plans, “How about tomorrow? I’ll pick you up at eleven and we’ll head over to the three broomsticks?” 

“That sounds good.” I say, and he grins. He hands me my books back then says quickly, “Well, I’ve got class in two minutes, so I have to run. I’ll see you tomorrow!” 

He breaks off into a run, McLaggen following behind him, and I head inside class. I sit in the middle beside the wall where I usually sit, and think about this date. I don’t like Bones, but most people don’t have feelings for the person that they’re going on a first date with. After the date is when the feelings pop up. It’s actually nice to be asked out, and not to be kissed once everyday when no one’s watching. 

I was getting excited about the prospect, thinking about what to wear, how to style my hair, when Bill walks in. He looks at me with a deep frown and heads off to sit beside someone else. I expected him to try to talk to me like he has in all of our classes, but he didn’t. He stares out the window for the entirety of class, which is unlike him, especially during the class that made him realise that he wanted to be a cursebreaker. 

I take a few notes, more than I usually do without noticing just in case Bill needed some after class. He would do the same when I would doze off during class or when I was sick. The bell rings and I put my books in my bag and sling it over my shoulder, holding a few on my arm. I barely walk out of class when someone pulls on my bag, pulling me back as well. I say, “Hey!” 

“Is it true?” Bill asks, just as I register that it’s him and not someone that I don’t know. His cheeks are flushed, but in the way that makes him seem agitated. I look at him confused and I ask, “What?” 

“You’re going out on a date with Bones? Is it true?” He asks, and I find myself pursing my lips and avoiding to answer. He runs a hand through his hair frustrated, and then continues, “Cause maybe, you didn’t know it was a date? Did you know?” 

“Can we not do this here?” I ask, when I see people stopping walking around and looking at me and Bill instead. A few whispers follow, and Bill grabs my hand to lead me somewhere more crowded. We stand in front of a large window with the sunlight beaming through and it’s near a hidden alcove where no one comes often. The hallway is empty and Bill doesn’t say anything before he sighs and asks, “Are you really?” 

“Yes.” I reply, and I can see his shoulders fall. He takes a few steps closer to me and asks me, “Did you know it was a date?” 

“Yes, I did, I’m not an idiot.” I snap, and his shoulders tense over and his frown deepens. His stance becomes defensive and he folds his arms over his chest. He says, “Bones is a dick, he just uses girls for sex, and he’s a big jerk.” 

“No, he’s not-” 

“He’s mean to his family and he treats his friends badly-” 

“No! He doesn’t, Bill.” I shout, “Stop making him try to seem like a jerk just so I won’t go out with him.” 

He bites his lip and looks away. His chest is heaving and his jaw clenches. I take a step back and I whisper, “You don’t have a say on who I go out with, you’re not my boyfriend.” 

Bill eyes me for a moment, and I try to stand my ground. He sighs, before turning around and leaving in a huff. I can hear his angry footsteps even after he’s out of my line of sight. 

***

The entire time when I’m getting ready to go out on a date, I think of Bill. Bill always said he liked my hair up, so I’m keeping it down. He liked me in red, so I’m wearing blue, anything to keep him out of my head. It’s my first ever date with a guy who might actually want to be my boyfriend instead of Bill who would kiss me and leave. 

10.55

I walk downstairs and decide to wait the last few minutes outside the common room while I wait for Bones. I’m just about at the end of the stairs when Charlie rushes over to me. “Hi, Honey!” 

“Oh, Hi Charlie.” I wave to him while he walks over to me. He smiles and he walks over to me, way too slowly. He reaches me and asks, “What are you doing dressed up so nice?” 

“Nothing much, Charlie.” I reply, not wanting to tell the boy that things with Bill and I are what they are. He looks me up and down, and narrows his eyes at me. He asks, “Are you going out on a date?” 

10.57

“I uh- yeah.” I say, reluctantly. Charlies purses his lips, thinking. He looks at me, confused. He thinks out loud, “That’s weird, Bill told me that he wasn’t going to Hogsmeade today.” 

“I’m not going with Bill.” I say, and Charlie’s face falls and he’s looking at me with those heartbroken puppy eyes. My heart aches, and I can’t stand it much longer. I rush, “I’ll talk to you later, Charlie.” 

10.58

I look up from my watch as I make it to the door of the common room when a small little redhead steps between me and the door. Percy grins up at me, and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He holds a book out to me and he asks, “Hey, honey! Could you help me with this potions chapter?” 

“Of course, Percy just when I head back, it’s hogsmeade weekend.” I explain and his smile falls. I wonder why I am breaking all of the young Weasley’s hearts today. Percy asks, “Where are you going at Hogsmeade?” 

“I’m not sure you’d know what I’m talking about Percy, you’ve never been there before.” I reply and look back at my watch. 

10.59

“I still wanna know.” Percy insists, and I reply, “I’m going to this place called ‘the three broomsticks’ where I’m going to have some drinks and stuff like butterbeer.” 

Percy nods his head, looking intrigued. He strokes his chin like an old man deep in thought. He says, “Tell me more about it.” 

“I would love to, Percy and I will, but I have to get going now.” I say, and he frowns, I ruffle his hair and try to soften the blow, “But how about, when I get back, after lunch maybe, we can go to the library and I’ll tell you all about it and I’ll help you with potions.” 

He nodded and then quickly ran back up the stairs…weird. I finally open the door to the common room and I see Bones standing a few feet away from the door. He waves to people in our year as he greets them. 

11.00 

I look at my watch and I smile at his punctuality. He grins when he sees me and I offer a polite smile back. I walked over to him and he met me halfway. He tells me that I look pretty and I tell him the same. He loops our arms together and we walk through the castles to where the carriages are being pulled towards Hogsmeade. We talked a little most of the time but a lot at other times. We sat watching the snowfall on the ground from the window. He tells me his favourite season is spring, I tell him mine is autumn. 

He told me how this is his first date and I told him the same. I can tell that he’s itching to ask Bill and I’m dying for him not to. We drink butterbeer and he offers to pay. We talk about our plans and how he wants to be a healer. I tell him that I’m not sure. He said that it’s okay. I smile at him as he tells me that he loves Potions and he does the same when I talk about Arithmancy. 

When we’re in the carriages heading back when there’s about an hour left till lunch, he tells me he’s had a great time and I tell him the same. He pulls his jacket around my shivering arms, and then leans forward to kiss me. I reciprocate and then he tells me that he wants to hold on to the date a little bit more. 

We hop off the carriage and it takes us the better part of an hour to walk back to the castle ourselves. We talk for most of the time, the other half just listening to the sound of our footsteps on the snow. He trips over a branch on the ground and falls face first into the snow. His face leaves an imprint on the snow and I bend over laughing. He throws a snowball at my face, and that’s when the snow fight begins. 

We fall on the ground when he asks if I like Bill, and dreadidly I say yes. He assures me and tells me that he’s still happy to have known me better. We decide that if he’s ever in need of an Arithmancy tutor that he can come to me, and his door is always open when I need help with potions. 

The date ended and it was a good first date even if it didn’t end with a new romantic prospect.  Lunch is almost over, so I grab a few snacks from the Great Hall before heading over to my dorm to change before meeting up with Percy in the library. Charlie stops me as soon as I enter the common room. 

“I need your help!” Charlie exclaims and I get worried very quickly. He drags me by my hand up the staircase to the boy’s dormitories and I hope that the staircases don’t turn into a slide beneath us. He leads me up and up and up the stairs till we reach the fifth year boy’s dorms. Bill’s dorms. On our way there, he asks, “You said Bill doesn’t like alcohol.” 

“He doesn’t.” I reply and Charlie tuts before he opens the door to Bill’s dorm. I smell the alcohol before I see Bill. He’s lying on the floor, with his hand wrapped around a bottle of Firewhiskey. I hear some tiny sobs before walking over to him, falling to my knees in worry. I wave over to Charlie, motioning for him to leave while I take care of Bill. 

Bill beams when he sees me. His hand reaches over to cup my face, and he stutters, “You’re very very pretty, honey.” 

I press a tiny kiss to his forehead to soothe him, and he closes his eyes in momentary bliss and I can see the tears streaks running from under his eyes and over his cheeks. I lean to grasp the bottle of Firewhiskey from his hand, but he tightens his grip over it. He protests, “No!” 

“Come on, Bill. You don’t even like this thing.” I insist and pry the bottle out of his fingers. I put it away on one of his other roommates' nightstands.  Bill frowns, “I know, I know, I just need it today, just today…” 

He lets out a sob, and I push him up so he can sit upright and rub circles on his back. He leans his head on my shoulder and he holds my hand. He sighs softly and I ask, “Why do you need it today, Bill?” 

“Cause you’re o-on a date.” Bill says, and my heart pounds under my chest. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen Bill like this. He rambles, “You went out with someone else, you laughed and you went to the three broomstick, and he kissed you-” 

“Wait, you followed me?” I ask, anger bubbling. Bill notices and he quickly lifts his head from my shoulder and looks at me, eyes wide. I still push a strand of his long hair over his eyes. He grasps my head from his face and he chokes out another sob, “I couldn’t help it, I love you!” 

I gasp, and Bill sobs covering his face with his hands. I look away, feeling my eyes water, why couldn’t he feel those emotions when sober? I blink away the tears and I pull him to my chest, and he wraps his arms around me, hugging me tight that I might fear for my ribs. I pet his head and whisper, “It’s okay, it’s okay.” 

“You can’t like him, I love you!” Bill repeats and I can’t help but start to let a few tears slip. Bill shouldn’t be spilling anymore thoughts when he’s like this, especially if they might not be true. I say, “Let’s get you to bed.” 

“Only if you stay.” Bill says, and I nod my head. I help him up and he falls. He starts tripping over his feet, as I lead him to his bed, the one with the photo of his face on the nightstand beside it. I cover him with a blanket and I move away from him. He grabs a hold of my wrist. I reassure him, “I’m only going to get the trash in, just in case you decide to throw up.” 

He nods, and then lets go of my wrist slowly. I grab the trash bin and a glass of water, and set them both beside him. He grabs me again, and he pulls me on top of him. He smiles when he sees my face. He cups my face and rubs his thumb across my cheekbones. It felt nice, like it wasn’t complicated at all. It felt the same way it did during the summer, and I covered his hand with my own. His smile dropped and he asked, “Why did you have to go away?” 

“What are you talking about, Bill?” 

“You haven’t talked to me in a while.” Bill says, and I clear my throat before correcting him, “A week isn’t a while.” 

“A few minutes not talking to you is agony enough.” Bill says, and I sigh. He looks up at me with those bright blue eyes, and his other hand goes to my back, lifting up a slight part of my shirt before settling down on my warm, bare skin. I answer, “You told a girl that you didn’t have a girlfriend.” 

He frowns and purses his lips, thoughts travelling throw them, slower than they would if he were sober. The pieces joining together before his lips part in astonishment. He asks, “You want to be my girlfriend?” 

It takes me a moment. I didn’t know at first, but the feeling of it, of having him call me his, kissing him whenever I can. I still don’t think that would be enough, I want more, so much more than just that. I reply, “I want to be more than that with you Bill.” 

“How?” 

“I don’t know.” 

***

“We’re just so proud of Bill for taking this step forward.” Molly gushes about Bill to me. We’re all sitting at the dinner table just a month into the summer before our seventh and final year. The Gred and Forge, Ginny and Ron are on one side of the table. Arthur sits at the head at the table Charlie opposite to him while Molly sits next to Bill who sits next to me. 

None of the kids care about the conversation, just eating little chicken nuggets and some fries with chocolate milkshakes, playing with each other. As Fred and George tell eachother jokes, while Ron munches on his food. Ginny just plays with her hair trying to braid tiny strands of it without looking. 

Charlie is just rolling her eyes at how much Molly is gushing about Bill, while Bill flushes trying to get her to stop, embarrassed. Arthur is making sure that Fred and George don’t set the table on fire, due to previous experiences. Molly says one thing that peaks my interest, “I mean taking an internship that could lead to a job in Egypt, obviously he’ll visit a lot-” 

“What internship?” I cut Molly off asking, tense, and the table went silent. I look at Bill questioningly. Bill swallows his last bit of food before turning to look at me. Molly exclaims, “Oh, I’ve said something wrong, Haven’t I? I’m sorry.” 

“No, it’s alright, Molly.” I reassure her from behind Bill, while he pets his mother’s arm. Bill clears his throat and looks at me explaining, “I didn’t take it, I still have to get accepted.” 

“In Egypt?” I ask, frowning at the far off place, in an entirely different continent. He says softly, “Yeah.” 

“It’s a curse breaking internship, and who knows maybe I’ll be working there around tombs and mummies and-” Bill explains, and I question, “And you’re just going?” 

“If I get accepted-” 

“And you’re gonna leave.” I point out, and he looks around awkwardly as Ginny starts asking Arthur where Bill is going and why he’s leaving. Molly and Aurthur usher everyone out of the dinning area just leaving Bill and I there. We sit in silence, and I don’t know where to even start. Don’t go, stay. How could you leave? I start, “Were you going to tell me about this?” 

“I didn’t want to tell you before I got it, would’ve been a lot of worry for nothing.” Bill says, and I turn around my chair to face him. He does the same. Our knees touching and legs intertwined. I ask, “And if you get it?” 

I wait for his answer as he looks down at the ground and I put my hand out grabbing his hand in mine. I play with his hand with both of mine and I place it on my lap. HE stays silent and I ask, “Would you go?”

“I-I don’t know, probably.” Bill says, and I feel pieces of my heart start to crack off. My hold on his hand tightens and I question, “What about your family? I’m sure Molly needs a helping hand around here. Charlie and Percy need their older brother, Who’s gonna keep Fred and George in line? Ron looks up to you, and Ginny loves you so much-” 

Bill cuts me off with a strong kiss on my lips while his hand encases my face. It’s the first one in a while and I relish in it. When Bill woke up after my date, he couldn’t remember anything but through a heated discussion we decided to take a few steps back. He was just my friend again. I hold his face in between my hands, and I whisper softly, “I need you to stay.” 

Bill places some more kisses onto my face and he hugs me tightly. I pull him closer, and think of how he could go. Go and be so far away. I ask from the crook of his neck, “How long would this internship be?” 

“A year.” 

“That’s not a long time…” I convince myself and him. He grabs my waist tighter and he says, “Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure that I won’t get it.” 

But he did. 

***

After a year of not seeing Bill, my first year working as the new professor of Arithmancy at Hogwarts, I might as well be jumping off the walls, bursting from excitement just to see him again. We had spent our seventh year in agony waiting to see if he got the internship or not, and when he did, I spent the last of the year, holding onto him until he had to leave. 

He didn’t kiss me once that year, except when we were on the train for the last time, heading back to platform 9 ¾ . We stayed as we were, except I stayed true to my word. I couldn’t see him as simply my friend anymore. Whenever he hugged me I wanted to savour that feeling forever. When he talked I wished I could listen to him talk forever and have those lips on mine. When he held Ginny and played with her hair, braiding it, I couldn’t help but picture a future like this, with him. 

When he came back, flew in through the Floo network from the ministry, I wasted no second in running towards him and wrapping my arms around his neck. The sounds of his siblings cheer loudly and they push me aside to hug their brother, and I chuckle at their love for him.

He flicks Fred and George’s hair telling them to stop getting so tall or they might catch up to him. He tells Ginny that she’s still as beautiful as ever, and for Ron to set up the wizarding chess board for a game later tonight. He asks Percy to get all his books ready so he can tell him an in depth description about all of them, and for Charlie to start stretching so he can beat his ass in quidditch. All the while, he shoots me looks from over their shoulders. 

Molly kisses her son and scolds him for not writing more often, he tells her that there simply wasn’t enough time, and then Molly, ushers everyone out. I stare at Bill and notice how his arms got larger and he became more chiselled (if possible), I point to the most notable difference. I point to his hair that’s currently in a low bun, making him look so very handsome. I ask, “You grew your hair.” 

“Yeah, Mom’s already begged me to cut it twice already.” He chuckles, and I take a few steps forwards towards him. I hug him and put my arms around his neck, and he moves his head to kiss me instead. Kissing me hard, and passionately. It takes me by surprise and I gasp, “Bill, what?” 

I don’t get a chance as his lips are back on mine, kissing me harder. I chuckle at his intent, and he wraps his arms around me. Our chests pressed against each other. I breathe him in deeply, and I realise how much I missed him. Every little thing about him too. I pull away to breathe and Bill chases after my lips. That’s when I realise something’s wrong. He’s kissing me because he needs to, he’s holding onto me. 

“They’ve given me the job full time-” Bill says and I immediately frown. I start, “I-” 

He cuts me off with another powerful kiss and another few seconds of silence where I can hear my heartbeats in my ears due to the lack of oxygen. It felt so blissful despite the ache in my chest because of the lack of air and Bill’s words. Bill starts, “They want me to take the job and move their full time-” 

“Bill-” 

“But I won’t go, if you ask me to stay.” Bill finishes, and I’m struck by his words. He pecks my lips once more, and I’m left reeling with all this information. I smile, bittersweetly, “You got your dream job…” 

“But it’s so far away.” I say, and he nods his head. He pulls my hands in his and he can already feel where I’m going with this. He rants, “You asked me what we are, and I said I don’t know, I never knew, but now I do.” 

“You can’t turn down your dream-” 

“I know now, I know that I want you, and that I love you, and if you tell me to stay I will. I’ll stay, just tell me to. Tell me that you’ll be mine.” Bill says and he lifts his hands to cup my face, looking at me as if I was the most precious thing in his life, but I’m not. He says, “I never wanted to tell you because I was an idiot, an idiot who was scared that you didn’t want him, an idiot who thought that he would lose you, if he told you he loved you.” 

I counter, “This is your dream, Bill. Your future, what you’ve always wanted-”

“No, you’re my future and I’m sorry that I didn’t know it before, but I do know. Ask me to stay, please.” he begs, and I pull his hands down. I look at him cause this might just be one of the few times that I’m going to see him for a long time. I’ve long had the image of his face pressed into my mind. I need to make sure that it withstands the test of time. I reason, “I-I’m not going to make this decision for you by asking you to stay, you might regret as time goes on-” 

“I can never regret you.” 

“I’m not going to stand in the way of this opportunity for you…you need to make it by yourself. And I’ve always been yours…” I trail off, and press a kiss on his lips. He looks at me dejected and helpless. I say, “Now, let’s go back in, your family’s waiting for you.”

***

Bill’s heading to the ministry any second now to head to the Floo network so he can go to Egypt. His family is going with him, so they can watch him Floo away, and they asked me to come, but I couldn’t because seeing his face before he goes, I might do something stupid like ask him to stay just for me, or maybe go to Egypt right with him. 

Molly said she’d come and see me after, they all will definitely be in need of a hug, especially Ginny who’s not going to bear being the only one at the Burrow anymore. I prepared a lot of food for everyone to come and get while they all cope with having Bill move away. I’m not sure I’ve copped myself, I don’t think I ever will. 

Knocks echo on my door, and I wave my wand pulling the food out on the table that I’ve arranged mishapely to gather enough chairs for the entire family. I arrange a few more things with the flick of my wand and I realise that I’ve forgotten the cups. I head over to the cupboard, and I flick my wand over to the door, making it fly open. 

“Just let yourself in Molly, I’m just putting down the cups!” I pull out eight cups and I hold them in my arms haphazardly, I make my way to the table and start arranging them. I put down all the cups, until there’s two left- “I’m not Molly.” 

I looked over my shoulder to where Bill was standing, bags at hand. He smiles at me and I smile back. I look at the clock, and I say, “Couldn’t do without a goodbye? But you’ll miss your Floo time, and you have to go where you’re supposed to-” 

“I’m right where I’m supposed to be.” Bill says, and my bittersweet smile drops. I look at him questioningly. He couldn’t possibly mean- He answers my thoughts, “I’m not going.” 

He sets his bags down and I put the last two cups randomly on the table. I fiddle with my fingers anxiously. I say, “I don’t want you to throw away your dream for me.” 

“It’s more like picking one dream over the other.” Bill says, still standing by the door. He continues, “I want to be a cursebreaker, and I still can be here in England, but I can’t have the life I always wanted with you if I’m miles away, and that’s what I want more than anything.” 

It’s the last of the confirmation that I need before heading over to him, rushing into his arms, as he finally holds me, and he whispers that he loves me. He kisses me and I forget to brace myself over how dizzy and giddy he makes me, finally as my own.

a/n: hope you liked it!

[pablitogavii]

Anger Issues

Summary: People keep coming at Pablo for being 'too aggressive' on and off the pitch and that makes him frustrated. He tried to shield you from it all but when they start assuming he must be just as aggressive with you, he completely looses it!

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Reader

Warnings: light angst/ fluff/ smutty ending ;)

pablogavi

Get up when you fall! Vamos Culers!! @fcbarcelona

comments:

halamadrid: So much aggression from this overrated tiktok star #nogame!! vini>>>>> liked by 1200 others

madrileñoslovemadrid: siempre agresivo!!

realmadridislove: because he doesn't know how to play!!

gavirafanclub: jealousy!!!

madrileñoslovemadrid: nahh pretty boy just a kid!

viniciusthegoat: little kid wants to act like a big star but all he does is push players! #weak!!

brasileños: go back to La Masia kid!! liked by 1500 others

y.n.bebe: te amo bebé <3

pablogavi: <3

You saw all the horrible comments on Pablo's newest post so you hoped that yours will at least make him smile weakly. People were so harsh with him, always calling him aggressive kid who doesn't belong in the first Barça squad.

They had no idea how wrong they are...Pablo worked hard every single day, training tirelessly without complaining, and the only time he does act 'aggressive' is when he is being provoked into it.

When he came home, you tried talking to him but he just says he is 'fine' before going to take a shower he really needed after all morning of running around the pitch.

"I don't know Becca. He won't talk to me...but I can tell this is getting to him. Does Pedri know anything??" you said into the phone after a few days when Pablo definitely started feeling worse still not letting you in avoiding the conversation whenever you would bring it up.

"Bebé do you want to talk to me about it now?" you said when you laid down in bed and he just pulled you back so that your back was glued to his chest and he rested his chin on your shoulder shaking his head.

"What are you reading cariño?" you sat in between his legs on the couch seeing that he was once again reading some stupid post he was tagged in that did nothing but humiliate him. You took his phone away and nuzzled your face into his neck once more trying to talk but he said he just wants to sit there with you in silence and that he will be alright.

"Pablo...I think you should talk to me" you said when you saw him clenching his jaw suppressing his anger from boiling over and cause him to break everything in his proximity. Apparently, Vinicius Jr said in his interview that Gavi is nothing more than an 'angry kid' that got destroyed in the last El Clásico. "There is nothing to say amor! He is stupid hijo de puta! I need to go for a run!" was all he said before rushing out of our apartment faster than I could say anything.

"Pepi said Pablo has been on edge recently even during training..hitting grass when he would miss a goal and avoiding to joke around with other players" Becca said and you knew it was just a matter of time until he bursts not knowing what to do to get him to open up to you.

During the next game, you went to support him hoping that would give him some push and reassurance that he is still campeon in your eyes and that he shouldn't let those mouth breathers ruin his confidence.

First half went great with Barça scoring one goal, and keeping many more but the moment the second half started you could tell they were provoking Pablo again.

You knew him well to notice the way his shoulders shift and his jaw keeps clenching as he played knowing this will end in a disaster. He was running towards the goal scoring it and making the whole camp jump to its feet when the referee said it was off-side without even sending it to the VAR room.

Pablo was angry with this hitting the ground (gif) and once he got up some opposing players purposefully bumped into him as he walked back to his position. They were really pushing their luck.

All of the sudden there was crowd in the middle of the pitch and you immediately knew who was in the middle of it- your Pablo. When players started moving as referee rushed to the commotion you saw Pablo yelling with his hands in the air repeating he didn't start anything. But it didn't matter, since he received red card being sent off the field and your stomach dropped.

As he walked off, he looked up to meet your eyes and you gave him a weak smile he returned before being quickly distracted by one of the opposing players form the bench yelling 'bye bye Pablito' and as he was about to rush towards him, Xavi grabbed his shoulders pushing him towards the changing rooms.

You rushed back with your 'family pass' knowing that you might be only person he would want to see right now. You saw Xavi leaving him inside the dressing room telling you that he is in pretty bad shape and that he asked for you.

"Bebé?" you opened the door looking up with tearful eyes and you quickly rushed to him sitting on his lap and hugging him tightly not caring that he was sweaty in that moment.

"I'm sorry you had to see that..I'm so sorry princesa" he was crying into your neck and you kissed his head pulling back a little before moving hair off his sweaty forehead pecking his lips a few times sweetly.

"Don't apologize, Pablo..I am still proud of you..It's not easy when everyone is provoking and pushing you around..and you still menage to score the goal and keep playing..you are my campeon bebé" you say seeing his eyes sparkle at the praise he haven't heard in a long time.

"I know I've been pushing you away too.." he said and you shook your head telling him you understand and aren't going anywhere.

After a few minutes, when Pablo finally calmed down just by being in your presence, you walked out of the changing rooms holding hands not expecting to come face to face with the same player who got Pablo kicked out. He must be substituted and you felt Pablo's hold on your hand tighten as his anger returned.

"What a win for us huh?" he said smirking and Pablo's eyes opened wide knowing that when he left, Barça was still leading. You saw that he tried not to let his anger out again but the player was really provoking him badly right now.

"It's okay, Pablito..this is a big boy game..maybe La Masia should take you back??" he said and you placed your hand on Pablo chest saying you should both go watch till the end together and to your surprise he agreed walking off without doing something 'angry bird' like.

y.n.bebe

mi campeon! @pablogavi @fcbarcelona

pablogavi: te amo princesa! <3 liked by y.n.bebe

fcbarcelona: Golden Boy! liked by y.n.bebe

its.becca.girl: Vamos Barça!!

y.n.bebe: siempre hermanita!! <3

siramartinez: supporting our man!

y.n.bebe: always!!

gavifangirling: she is such a supporting gf!! Love it!! <333. liked by y.n.bebe

madrileñosforevaa: girl he is like so aggressive!

halamadrid: nahhh vini>>>>>

gavihateclub: he is probably just as aggressive with her!! @pablogavi

"Now they are saying I am being aggressive to my girl dad!" Pablo couldn't believe the things people were saying online after the last game.

It was one thing to call him a kid, or say that he didn't know how to play but to pull you into it and say he would ever do something to hurt you is past the limit. He can't stay silent anymore! This was taking it too far now!

"Amor?" you said when he just rushed in your shared apartment not even saying a 'hello' before walking into your shared bedroom and tossed himself onto the bed.

You sighed knowing that he must have seen the awful comment someone left on your post which hurt you heart as well. Pablo was the most caring and gentle boyfriend in the whole world to you!

"Bebé can you look at me please?" you said after sitting down on the bed next to him and rubbing his back while hearing his softly sob into the pillow. It broke your heart to see him like this.

He just shook his head knowing that the moment he looks at you he won't be able to stop crying again..he could deal with all the shit they throw on him but when it comes to you, he wants everyone to know that he treats you like an absolute queen because that's what you deserve!

You laid down besides him kissing the back of his neck before nuzzling your face further kissing his cheeks and making him slowly turn around so you can straddle his hips and peck his lips finally.

"Am I too aggressive with you?" he said and you dried his tears your heart breaking that he could ever question you about this. Those people really got into his head.

"Amor, you are the most caring and loving boyfriend in the world..you always make sure to see me every day even when you are away you always face time me before bed...you buy me roses out of nowhere and write me cute notes when you have early morning trainings..you mi cariño are not aggressive person they are portraying you to be..not in football and especially not to me" you say as he listened carefully before pulling you down and kissing your lips feverishly.

"I love you so much princesa..please don't ever leave me" he said and you smiled into the kiss before kissing down his neck and messing up his hair playfully.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily, Gavira!" you said while laying down on top of him and his arms engulfed you tightly while he kissed your head.

"Good. Because I couldn't imagine doing this without you nena.." he said feeling exhausted and you smiled cuddling up and slowly dozing off together.

The next day you wanted to surprise him with a little trip to the beach with all of his friends knowing that it was a day off for everyone and that he could use being with people who love him.

Even Aurora and Javi joined and the whole day Pablo was smiling and joking with everyone, stealing kisses from you and enjoying being 'normal'.

You were glad everyone showed up and showed how much they care for him especially when you saw his happy little face. You never wanted that smile to disappear again!

"Can you take a picture of us Becca?" you said giving you your phone and pulling Pablo towards the ocean before jumping into his arms and he held you up easily leaning in to kiss your lips while everyone cheered. He was so happy when you finally kissed before he put you down and held your face for a few moments.

"Thank you princesa.." he said and you smiled when he kissed your forehead.

"Always, cariño..I love you" you smile getting another kiss before you returned to hang out with the rest of your friends.

"Today was amazing, hermosa..I really enjoyed" Pablo said when you returned to the apartment and you felt really glad to hear that.

"There is something I need to do still.." you said opening Instagram up on your phone.

y.n.bebe

Para el novio mas amoroso del mundo! Te amo amorcito! <33 Gracias gracias por tratarme como una princesa siempre. @pablogavi

liked by 100K others

comments:

pablogavi: porque tu eres mi princesa <33

y.n.bebe: amor!! <3

barcafanclub: he is the sweetest boy! to his fans and to his girlfriend! those saying he is aggressive with her are rude and stupid! Siempre Amor!!! @pablogavi @y.n.bebe

its.becca.girl: sweetest couple en toda la Barcelona!!

pedri: them and us amor lol <3

y.n.bebe: double trouble pepi!! lol liked by pedri

pablogavi: estamos suerte hermano! liked by pedri

gaviiifan: people should stop hating on him for being a good player and clearly the best boyfriend bruh!!

viscabarcasiempre: Gavi! Gavi! Campeon!!!!

gairagirl: people saying he is not a player but a tiktok star are just jealous of his success! they hate him cause they ain't him! @y.n.bebe a lucky girl <33. liked by@y.n.bebe

siramartinez: girl being treated right! shutting up the haters!

y.n.bebe: siempre! <3

ansufati: amor para mi hermano! we all know you the best! @pablogavi

pablogavi: hermano <3

@_rl9 I have known @pablogavi for such a long time now, and the boy is truly the kindest down to earth kid you will ever meet. He shows up to all training ready to go and he never complains! His talent and heart shouldn't be questions! Tue eres chico orgulloso! liked by y.n.bebe pablogavi and others

pablogavi: gracias lewy! te amo siempre ídolo!

[a-case-of-attachment]

The Lamb & The Serpent

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x sinner fem!reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Lucifer being a chaotic mess, sex, p in v, swearing, virgin reader, first time, awkwardness, Lucifer being awkward, fluff, relationship are hard sometimes that’s why communication is key, romance isn’t dead, Lucifer and his oral fixation, wholesome smut, they are in love your honour.

Please click -> here <- to read on AO3

After his little chat with Asmodeus and his subsequent awaking to what had actually been going on over the past couple of months Lucifer had every intention of sitting you down so he could apologise for his poor behaviour and reassure you that he was very much interested in what you were offering. That had been the plan anyway but unfortunately things just hadn’t gone his way and Lucifer had been forced to spend the last three day refereeing the ongoing argument between Asmodeus and Mammon as they bickered over the little clown imp they both had their eye on. It had been a headache inducing mess, one that had ended with Lucifer snapping at the embodiment of greed, his horns and tale making an appearance when he had missed yet another call from you.

He was beyond glade it was over with, and Lucifer had barely even managed to say goodbye to Asmodeus before he was teleporting home, appearing in his lobby and just about ready to hide away in his work room until he could stomach being social again. Maybe with an exception or two. Lucifer would very much like to waist a couple of days curled up with you on the sofa as well as having the chance to catch up with Charlie. He could always invite Charlie over for afternoon tea and a chat, maybe even invite Vaggie along as well. Considering she was the love of Charlie’s life he really hadn’t spent enough time getting to know her. Plus, she was an angel, so they already had something in common. Though maybe not the best thing to bond over considering neither of them was likely to want to talk about that aspect of their lives. Maybe you could come along as well and after Charlie and Vaggie had gone the two of you could actually have that conversation about what you wanted from the other physically that you probably should of had a month or so ago.  With a plan in mind Lucifer had planned on going straight to bed when he got in but apparently, he wasn’t the only one with plans for his evening. 

He knew something was off the moment he appeared in the lobby, the small space feeling warmer than normal and smelling faintly like apple pie. When he opens his eyes it’s to find candles scattered across every surface, the yellow flames glowing warmly and casting long shadows up the walls. The floor is scattered with petals, the light of the candles making them shimmer like an oil spill. Confused Lucifer eyes the trail of petals and candles suspiciously calling out a tentative “hello?” in the hopes of getting an answer for the unusual décor. There comes no answer but the floorboards above creak, letting him know that he’s not alone in the house. 

With a frown and a huff Lucifer followed the trail of petals and candle light down the hall and up the stairs, going as slowly and lightly as he can as not to make a sound. Logically he knows that no one down here can hurt him, not unless they had some form of angelic weaponry but that was unlikely considering they were still a rare and expensive commodity despite the amount of angels that had met their end down here over the eons. That doesn’t stop him from being cautious though. Just because a knife to the chest won’t kill him doesn’t mean it’s not going to hurt and despite his reputation amongst the living Lucifer isn’t really that into the whole pain and torture thing. It doesn’t really occur to him that it could be someone he knows who is responsible for the moody and romantic vibe. Even as he steps onto the landing and finds the trail leading to his bathroom door Lucifer doesn’t consider it, that is not till he’s stood in front of closed door and reading the note that had been stuck to the wood with a little duck shaped pin.

His hand trembled a little as he reaches up to take it down, tears clinging to his lashes as his heart swells with the love he had for you. He reads it twice, eyes dragging across the page slowly because he can’t quite believe what he’s reading. You wanted to take care of him, worried that he had been overdoing it the last couple of days and knowing full well he wouldn’t look after himself. You had given him strict instructions to relax, insisting that he spend at least an hour in the bath and that he not think about anything work related. That had him laughing, wiping away his tears as he imagined you stood there with your arms crossed over your chest and looking at him expectantly, your little lamb ears completely ruining the stern look you were going for. Adorably cute and just begging to kissed. 

He couldn’t believe you had done this for him. Yes, the candles and petals seemed a bit over the top, but Lucifer liked it all the same. It must have taken you a while to set it all up and his heart feels like it might burst when he realises what that means about how you must feel about him. Surely if you didn’t love him then you wouldn’t have gone to such lengths? And if you were doing romantic things like this then that meant he hadn’t messed up as badly as he had feared. 

Oh. 

You were wooing him! The realisation had Lucifer feeling giddy, practically bouncing in place he was so excited. He had never been wooed before. Yes, Lilith had loved him, had told him often and never denied him any physical displays of affection but she had never been one for grand displays or romantic gestures. That had been Lucifers thing, always the one showing up with gifts or ridiculously large bouquets of flowers. He was the one who made romantic dinners for the two of them, the one who would run her baths and brush her hair whilst telling her how beautiful she was, how he loved and adored her. He had done the wooing, not the other way round but now? Knowing that you were doing something special for him? Lucifer hadn’t felt this loved and cherished since, well, not for a very long time and he wasn’t really sure what to expect when he opened the door. 

He knew what he would do if it was him doing the romancing, had done it enough for Lilith before that it seemed like a logical conclusion that you would be waiting for him inside. Maybe he would catch you leant over the bath, fingers testing the water temperature and smiling ever so sweetly over your shoulder at him. Maybe you would be perched on the edge of the tub, waiting patiently for him to come to you and place a kiss upon your lips. Or maybe, just maybe you would already be in the bath, the bubbles keeping you hidden from him until he had stripped naked and sunk into the water with you. They’re all welcomed scenarios and Lucifer finds himself holding his breath as he slowly pushes the door open, leaning around it in an attempt to see what it was hiding from him.  

You are not in the bath, not in the room at all but what there are is more petals scattered across the tiled floor, candles placed on every available surface and giving the room a warm and inviting glow. The bath tub is full, steam curling up from the red bubbles and carrying with it the smell of cinnamon and clove. There’s a small table next to the bathtub, a small selection of candles sat on top of it along with a couple of bottles of toiletries. Bottles that hadn’t been in his house that morning when he left. The whole room looks like a scene from a romance novel, inviting Lucifer in and offering him something that he had never thought he would get to experience for himself. Yes, he is disappointed you aren’t there to share in it with him but after his behaviour these last few months he isn’t surprised that you are keeping your distance. Oh well, Lucifer will follow your orders, planning on luxuriating in the warm waters of his freshly drawn bath and then he would look for you, hopeful that you were still somewhere within his home and not having snuck back to the hotel whilst he was preoccupied. He had a lot to thank you for and didn’t feel like waiting till morning to do so. 

With a smile still firmly in place Lucifer followed the trail of petals over the vanity, already pulling off his jacket and eyeing his bath excitedly only to be brought to a sudden stop when his foot hits something soft and squishy. Frowning Lucifer looked down, stepping back slightly so he could get a better look at what he had trodden on. Two sets of black beady eyes stare lifeless back at him from within a round yellow face. Ducks. He’s looking down at ducks. Two large squishy duck plushies with holes in their backs. Are they slippers? Confused Lucifer went to bend down and pick one up, placing his hand in the counter for balance except his hand didn’t touch the cool marble it should have. Instead his fingers sank into something soft and fluffy, Lucifer turning his head to see what it was only to come face to face with even more ducks except these ones are printed onto a deep blue fabric, the space in between decorated with little white stars that seemed to sparkle in the candle light. 

Abandoning his original task Lucifer stood back up, frowning down at the neatly folded fabric and the small white card that sat on top, his name scrawled in your familiar font on the front. Turns out they were a gift for him, a set of matching flannel pyjamas and plushie slippers for him to change into after his bath. Lucifer had stood there for a long few minutes, card in hand and staring down at his rubber ducky slippers trying not to cry because of how happy he felt. 

It had been centuries since Lucifer had been gifted anything. Yes, he had received bribes and sacrificial offerings but that wasn’t the same. This was heartfelt, picked specifically because of who he was as a person and not because of his status. A part of him does question how you could afford the obvious expensive items because he knows that Charlie doesn’t pay you for the work you do at the hotel, but he squashes that down quickly deciding that it wasn’t important. He knew you, knew that however you had come to possess them it wouldn’t have been by nefarious means. Plus, he’s too happy to care. Not only had you arranged a candle lit bath for him, but you had also given him a gift. There was no doubt in his mind you were trying to woo him now, Lucifer feeling giddy and excited for what would come next. But first, he had a rather lovely bubble bath to sink into. 

He makes sure they are folded nicely, slippers tucked in against the vanity before he starts removing his clothes. He’s quick but methodical about it, removing one item after another and folding them neatly so he can stack them next to the pyjamas. His shoes get tucked under the unit next to his new slippers, his cane clipped onto the hook on the side and his hat placed gently atop the hat stand towards the back. Once naked Lucifer runs his hand over the soft fabric once more before turning and heading to the bath. 

The groan Lucifer makes as he sinks down into the warm spice scented water sounds practically sinful, but he doesn’t think he would have been able to contain it even if he had tried. It feels amazing, the water almost instantly soothing his aching muscles and helping him to relax. He doesn’t know what you had put in the water but whatever it was surely had to be made of magic of some kind because Lucifer doesn’t think he had ever felt this light and boneless before, just drifting peacefully as the warmth from the water seeped into his very core and left him feeling like he was floating on a cloud. Or maybe it’s just because it’s you that had done this for him that makes it feel a thousand times better than it ever had before. Magic or love? Maybe they were one and the same, intertwined so closely that you couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. Lucifer couldn’t tell, all he knew was that he felt happy and loved and that was something he hadn’t felt in a very long time. 

He sits there for what feels like hours, mind blessedly calm and the water never getting cold. It’s only then, as he truly relaxes, that Lucifer hears it. The soft sound of music comes from his adjoining bedroom, the gentle mix of piano and violin creeping through the gaps under the door, hauntingly beautiful and painfully familiar even though Lucifer can’t quite recall where he had heard it before. He doesn’t remember if it had been playing the whole time and his breath catches at the thought of you being in his bedroom. So close yet hidden from him. He wants to call out to you, see if you will answer but he also doesn’t want to break this strange spell he finds himself under. Nor does he want to ruin something you must of worked so hard on. So, Lucifer stays quite, eyes slipping closed as he sinks further into the hot water and lets everything that had been weighing him down go, giving in to the tranquil bliss you had gifted him. 

Lucifer doesn’t know how long he stays there for but when he stirs, he finds that most of the bubbles have gone, and the water is lukewarm at best. Deciding that it had probably been over an hour at this point Lucifer finished washing quickly, using the things you had left for him and delighting at the crisp apple scent mixed with cinnamon and ginger with a hint of nutmeg and cardamom that wafted up from the open bottles. He makes sure to wash every inch of himself, even conditioning his hair as well as shampooing, wanting to make sure he used everything you had left for him.

He feels fresh and relaxed when he steps out of the bath, wrapping himself in the ridiculously large and fluffy towel that had been left next to the tub for him. He dries himself quickly, eager to try his new pyjamas on and by the time he’s taken the few short steps across the room his body is mostly dry if not a little pink tinged from how vigorously he had been rubbing at it. The pyjama trousers are just as soft as they had looked, Lucifer letting them sit low on his hips as he shoved his feet into the slippers. He forgoes his shirt for now, a smaller towel draped over his shoulder and catching the water that dripped from his hair as he looked for his hairbrush. It’s not there though and without thinking he is already heading towards the adjoining door to his bedroom, tugging the towel up to rub vigorously at his still wet hair as he flings the door open. He’s already a couple of steps into the room when he suddenly stops, the small gasp catching him off guard. 

Lucifers head snapped up at the sound, his eyes going wide when he found you stood there. Oh, but what a sight you were, all wide eyed surprise and lips slightly parted as you took in his half-dressed state. But that wasn’t the best part. Oh no, the best part was that the two of you matched, all the way from the yellow duck slippers on your feet to your pyjamas. They were the exact same ones you had gifted him except where his were trousers yours were shorts, cutting off mid-thigh and leaving your legs blessedly bare. The two of you just stand there, Lucifer completely enraptured by how adorably beautiful you are whilst you stare at his bare chest like you had never seen a half-naked man before. 

You are the first to come to your senses, coughing nervously before purposely looking at a spot somewhere over his should as you asked if he had “enjoyed your bath? I know it was a little over the top, but I just wanted to surprise you and, well you seemed a little stressed when we spoke last night, and I thought this might help you relax a little.” Lucifer lets the towel fall forgotten to the floor, striding across the room so he is standing before you, taking your hands in his and waiting for you to look at him before thanking you. You look so relieved when he tells you how much he had loved it, giving him one of your sweet little smiles when he admits that “no one’s ever done something like that for me before and I…thank you, for taking care of me.” He means to say a lot more, but his voice gets caught in his throat and Lucifer can only hope that his choked up little thank you conveys everything he hadn’t been able to say. 

Despite his lack of words, you had seemed to understand, cupping his cheek and looking him in the eyes as you swore that you would “show you every single day from here until forever how much you mean to me Lucifer.” Smiling tearfully, he had placed his hand over yours on his cheek, turning his face slightly into your palm as he told you how perfect that sounded and promising to do the same. Lucifer would spend the rest of eternity showing you how much he loved you, would tell you at least twice a day and make sure that you never stopped smiling, always feeling happy and loved. You were too pure of a soul to be down here, and you were definitely too good for Lucifer, but you had chosen him all the same and if heaven had denied you paradise, then he would create a slice of heaven in hell, just for you. 

Lucifers the one who breaks the silence between you this time, taking the hand that’s on his cheek and placing a soft kiss on your knuckles before asking about your current state of dress, and noting how adorable you look. Turns out there had been more to Lucifers surprise because not only had you given him a gift and helped him relax you also apparently had plans for his sleeping arrangements, gesturing behind you to the camomile tea that sat on the night stand whilst explaining that you thought the two of you “could snuggle. JUST snuggle. I thought it would be nice for us to, well you know, cuddle.” Lucifer hears what you are saying, would love nothing more than to climb into bed with you and spend the night wrapped in your arms but there’s just one slight problem with that. Lucifer isn’t so sure he would be able to spend the night with you in his bed without experiencing some physical side effects. 

His mind kind of gets stuck on that, pulling up every scenario that could unfold by agreeing to sharing his bed with you. Only two out of a dozen possibilities don’t end up with you both naked, and only one of those isn’t sexual in nature. It’s bad, so very very bad to be thinking about such things, especially when you were trying to be romantic and show him how you felt but by the way you were blushing and pointedly not looking at him or the bed Lucifer thought that maybe he wasn’t the only one with less than pure thoughts about the situation. His first instinct is to steer the conversation well away from anything even remotely close to sexual, but he knows better than that now. That being said it doesn’t change the fact that before anything like that could happen between the two of you Lucifer needs to apologise for his behaviour over the last few months and also get verbal confirmation from you that adding sex to your relationship was actually something you wanted. 

Lucifer makes sure to tell you that “spending the night with you in my arms sounds like a dream come true,” and it does. He has often dreamed of just holding you, getting to feel your body against his as the two of you simply lay beside one another but considering how he had been reacting to your most simple of touches these last few months he knows that an innocent snuggle wouldn’t be possible for him. The question is how does he tell you that without sounding like some sort of sex obsessed weirdo that can’t even make it through a night of cuddling without getting hard?

Trying to buy himself a little extra time to think Lucifer had directed you to sit at the end of the bed, coming to stand in front if you and nervously running a hand through his still damp hair. Maybe doing this when he was shirtless was a mistake, but he knew that if he disappeared back into the bathroom, he would probably lose his nerve and either end up embarrassing himself or upsetting you. No, he needed to do this now. You deserved the truth, though maybe getting you to sit on his bed was also a mistake, Lucifers eyes drawn down to your bare thighs, realising that if he were to drop to his knees his head would be just the right hight for him to…. NOT HELPING! 

You would think that after having been through all this with Asmodeus it would have been easier to tell you he was sorry for his behaviour and explain exactly why he had acted in such a way, but it wasn’t. Not in the slightest and Lucifer found himself stumbling over his words once more, looking over your shoulder to avoid the temptation of letting his gaze wander down too far. You don’t question his lack of eye contact, letting him ramble on about how he “didn’t mean to make you think that I wasn’t interested because I am. Very interested actually but you’ve never, you know, been with anyone before and I didn’t want to rush you into something you weren’t ready for. Not that you can’t make those decisions yourself. It’s just, well, umm, sex, can be messy and complicated, even when you know what you’re doing and I ah, I didn’t, DON’T! want to hurt you.” It’s like Asmodeus’ all over again, Lucifer making a complete mess of trying to tell you what he had thought was happening and what was actually going on. 

Why was he so bad at this? All he needed to do was apologise for  misunderstanding your attentions and reassure you that he was completely committed to this relationship, regardless of if it included sex or not but if that was something you were interested in then he needed you to just tell him that because he would be thrilled to have the pleasure of well, you. There! That’s all he had to say and yet the words that came out of his mouth were “sex is good. Would, be good, with you. If that was something you wanted to have, with me?” He can’t help but grimace at how ridiculous he sounds, hiding his face in his hands and contemplating opening a portal up underneath himself so he can save you from listening to any more of his embarrassing drivel. 

You don’t seem to think he’s messed up though, gently taking his hands in yours and lowering them so you can look him in the eye. You’re all soft smiles and gentle words as you apologise to him, cutting off his insistence that you had nothing to apologise for by placing a finger against his lips, Lucifers voice disappearing in an instant. He watched you with wide eyes, captivated by you as you told him that you “hadn’t considered your feelings and I’m sorry for that. Just because I don’t care about my lack of experience doesn’t mean you feel the same and I should have realised that instead of continuing to try and start something and making you feel uncomfortable. I know now that you were worried that I might be pushing myself into it without really knowing what I was asking for but I am an adult Lucifer and I need you to realise that I wouldn’t have even considered sleeping with you let alone trying to initiate it if I didn’t think I was ready for that with you.” You say it so much better than he ever could, having a way with words that leave Lucifer feeling like he is on the edge of tears and yet full of so much joy he might burst from it.

There are so many things that Lucifer wants to say to you. Like how deeply he cares for you. How he would be willing to go as slow as you needed him to if it meant you felt safe and comfortable with him. How he wanted you in his life, however he could have you because you made it that much better, smile as bright as an angels grace that never failed to chase away the gloom that hung over him like a cloud. He doesn’t say any of that though, taking your hands in his as he declared “me to. I’m ready,” because he was. Lucifer was ready to take that next step with you, both inside and outside the bedroom. 

The kiss you give him is chaste, but it doesn’t stay that way, your tongue sweeping across his lips. He parts them eagerly this time, welcoming the gentle cares of your tongue against his. The two of you should probably talk more but for now it seemed like the time for words was over, the months’ worth of denial finally catching up to you both. Lucifer follows you wordlessly when you scooch back onto the bed, his lips never far from yours as he climbs up onto the bed until he’s hovering above you. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer so you can whisper in his ear, lips brushing teasingly against the sensitive shell of his ear when you ask him if he would “be my fist? There’s no one else I would rather it be. Please Lucifer, take it, it’s yours.” It sends a shiver down his spine, a long buried ache growing in his chest and pressing almost painfully against his rib cage. You’re offering him something precious, something that once given can’t be taken back. A part of yourself that will forever be his, a mark on your very soul that will never fade. It’s an honour that Lucifer would be a fool to refuse so he doesn’t, murmuring his devotion against your lips even as he slides a hand under the fabric of your pyjama shirt, deft fingers dancing across your stomach and up your side, your startled gasp like the start of a symphony written just for him. 

Lucifer makes love to you that night. It’s the only way he can describe it. He’s slow, gentle, the two of you pressed as close you can get without it interfering with him slowly stripping your clothes off you, Lucifer enraptured by every inch of you that is revealed to him. 

There’s something addictive about the little moans and gasps you let out as Lucifer explores your body with his hands and mouth. He liked the way your breath hitches when his fingers skim across the swell of your breasts and pinched gently at your hardened nipples. He craves the little gasps you make when he kisses his way down your body from your lips to your hips, nipping and sucking gently as he goes before soothing over the slight sting with a delicate kiss. You respond so beautifully to him, unashamedly vocal in your pleasure as you squirm in his hold, arching into his touch like you were chasing it. He’s already addicted to it, to you but there’s one thing he loved above all else, the most beautiful sound to fall from your parted lips and leaves him whimpering, desperate to hear it again and again. 

“Lu...Luci…Lucifer! Please, I…oh gods, yes! Please. Lucifer I…LUCIFER!” It’s like music to his ears. A symphony of moans and gasps, his name falling from your lips like a prayer and all because his wicked tongue had made its way between your legs. Lucifer had moaned like a starving man when he had gotten his first taste of you, pressing his face as close to you as he could get. He had tried to go slow, aware that no one had ever done this for you before and he had started out like that, tentative and gentle as he tried to figure out what it was you liked and didn’t. As soon as he had started to figure it out though Lucifer was relentless, alternating between fucking his tongue into your tight cunt and sucking gently on your sensitive clit. He felt drunk on you, hungry to taste your climax on his tongue and desperate to know how loudly he can get you to scream his name. Hopefully loud enough that all of heaven will be able to hear. 

Lucifer spent a while between your legs, his own neglected cock tenting his trousers and begging for attention. This wasn’t about him though. It was all about you, about your pleasure and Lucifer was all for denying himself when he got to listen to you fall apart on his tongue. He could happily stay there for hours, days even, feasting on your sweet nectar and listening to you cry out for him in pleasure filled desperation. Maybe another time, he didn’t want to overwhelm you, plus this was about what you wanted not him and from the way you were practically grinding against his face Lucifer could guess what it was you were after. 

His fingers replaced his tongue, two slipping into you easily as his mouth latched onto your clit, licking and sucking on the little nub as he fucked his fingers into you. He knew that no matter how gentle he was with you it was going to hurt to some degree but the more relaxed and looser you were the easier it would be for you when Lucifer finally got to feel you around his cock. So, he worked another finger into you, his teeth nipping at the little bundle of nerves as you pressed down against the intrusion, moaning ever so sweetly at the stretch. It doesn’t take long for Lucifer to add a fourth finger or for you to clench down on them, crying out his name as you climax. Lucifer lets out his own moan, working you through it and lapping up your juices as they flow out around his fingers. 

He works you through it, fingers slowing down till they were barely moving as his tongue drags across your opening. He stays there till you let out a little whimper, tugging at his hair as you press your hips back into the bed. Reluctantly Lucifer moves, not wanting to leave you feeling to overstimulate or overwhelm. It is only your first time together, first being the important word there because Lucifer plans on there being many more times in your future, maybe even again tonight. If he’s lucky. 

Feeling how wet his chin is Lucifer doesn’t even think about letting his tongue snake out of his mouth, dragging across his chin and savouring every last drop of you, his eyes falling closed as he moans softly. Your choked off moan has his eyes snapping open, dragging his gaze up the naked expanse of your body until his eyes meet yours and the dark hungry look you give him as you stare at his mouth. Lucifer can’t help but smirk, lifting his still slicked fingered to his mouth. He watches you from under hooded eyes as he drags his tongue up them, slipping them into his mouth one by one so he can suck them clean. 

He’s barely removed them from his mouth before you’re surging up to claim his lips in a bruising kiss, swallowing Lucifers startled moan as you pull him down slightly to meet you. It’s an interesting position, Lucifers thighs shoved under yours and an arm wrapped around your waist to help keep your balance whilst he cups your neck and jaw with his other hand. You don’t seem to care, weight braced on one arm and a hand buried in his hair. One of your legs is wrapped around his waist, pressing his hips down even as you raise yours up to meet him. It’s too much, Lucifer breaking away from the kiss with a gasp and a shudder. He stays close, forehead resting against yours as you breathe each other in, Lucifer shamelessly grinding against you like he had no self-control. He doesn’t, not when it comes to you and he probably would have carried on as he was, grinding against your core in a pale imitation of what he really wanted until he crashed over the edge and spilt inside his trousers like an inexperienced teenager if it hadn’t been for your breathy little “please” so desperate and wanton and Lucifer couldn’t wait a moment longer. 

He gives you one last kiss, nipping gently at your bottom lip as he pulls away before shuffling off the bed. He’s already pushing down his pyjama bottoms before he’s even got one foot on the floor. It goes about as well as could be expected, Lucifers foot slipping as the other gets caught in the fabric. He goes down gracelessly with a thud, landing in a sprawling heap on the floor. It doesn’t deter him though, yanking the offending garment off and quickly jumping back up onto his feet only to find you kneeling at the end of the bed and looking down at him with concern. Lucifer laughs nervously, rubbing at the back of his neck and insisting that he was fine. There’s a beat of a second, a small pause as your eyes narrow slightly like you’re trying to figure out if he’s telling the truth. You must decide he is because you smile fondly at him, shaking your head slightly and rolling your eyes even as you offer him your hand. 

He takes it gratefully, following you up onto the bed once more as you shuffle back to lay against the pillows. You are beautiful in your innocence, your bottom lip caught between your teeth and head turned slightly to the side, your eyes cast down in a display of shyness that hadn’t existed the rest of the evening. You’re led in a way that leaves you both on display and hidden all at once, your arms raised and gripping at the pillow under your head whilst your hips are slightly turned away from him, one leg over the other and bent at the knee. You look like a sacrifice, led across his deep red sheets with the dim glow of the candles flickering across your naked body and Lucifer feels every inch like the devil come to claim you as tribute. It doesn’t bother him as much as he had feared though, knowing you were here willingly, giving in to your own desire for him. It helps a lot, easing his worry and boosting his confidence because he knows you wouldn’t be here like this if you didn’t want to be. 

Lucifers touch is gentle as he slides his hands up your legs, slowly moving you so he can crawl between your legs. As soon as he’s hovering above you, his weight resting on his hands either side your head, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, fingers slipping into his hair and guiding his head down to yours. He goes willingly, dropping his weight down onto his forearms as his lips meet yours in a slow and gentle kiss. All the desperation and hunger from before is gone, this kiss less about the desire you felt for one another and more about the love you feel for each other. Though neither of you had said it yet Lucifer knew it must be true. It was for him and if it wasn’t for you then it wasn’t far off. 

The kiss ended when you shifted, his neglected cock rubbing against your stomach and reminding you both of the lust and need you felt for the other as it sparked back to life. Lucifer pulls away from you with a groan, head falling to rest on your shoulder as he calms himself down enough so that he doesn’t start rutting against you again. Something that isn’t helped by the fact you whisper in his ear that you’re ready, ever so sweetly begging “please Lucifer, I need you.” And oh, that does something for him, his dick twitching when you say you need him. He pulls back just enough to look you in the eye when he tells you it’s going to “hurt, just a little at the beginning but I promise it will feel so good after that, just, if it’s too much, tell me and I’ll stop. We don’t have to do this tonight, not if your umph.” You cut off Lucifers ramblings with a quick kiss, cupping his cheek as you tell him that you know and how you trust him.  It brings tears to his eyes, ones you quickly wipe away, but he can’t help it. You are giving him such an amazing gift, trusting him with something precious and he’s overwhelmed by the trust you had put in him to take care of you. Maybe a little to overwhelmed if he was being honest. 

Lucifer doesn’t want to admit how nervous he is about this part, but it surely must be obvious from the fact that he stares down at his dick for a good few seconds before he even thinks about moving into position. He knows he’s a lot bigger than the average human male, both in length and girth and though he spent quite a while making sure you were stretched, he fears that it might not have been enough. It’s your first time, Lucifer knows he’s going to hurt you despite everything he’s done to prevent it and unless he shoved a bunch of drugs down your throat that fact isn’t going to change but that doesn’t change the fact he feels almost guilty about it. This will be nothing but bliss for him whilst you have to suffer through the pain of him tearing you apart and forcing your insides to fit around him. It’s not fair, a flaw in Gods design but unfortunately there isn’t much Lucifer can do to rectify that. 

The only thing he can do is go slow, checking you’re okay at regular points and stilling when you need him to. He is right though, sinking into you is heavenly. You’re warm and tight around him as he slides in torturously slow, his breath heavy as he watched your face for any sign he may be hurting you too much. He stops when he feels resistance, covering your face in kisses in between apologising for the pain that’s about to come. Your hands tighten where they’re curled around his shoulders, bracing yourself for what’s to come even as you urge him to continue. Lucifer kisses you, deep and hungry as he snaps his hips forward and breaks through your barrier, swallowing your pain filled cry. He thinks you might have drawn blood, your nails digging into his shoulders, but he doesn’t care, holding himself still as he kisses away your tears, waiting for your command to continue. It feels like an age before your nodding, your grip loosening on his shoulders and whispering that “it’s ok, you can move. Please Lucifer. I want this. I want you.” With one last kiss Lucifer promises that you have him, mind body and soul, from here until eternity. He doesn’t give you the chance to answer, pulling his hips back and sliding back in, your hitched little gasp the only answer he needs. 

It’s slow going, Lucifer fighting the urge to just slam into you all in one go because fuck, he wants to be in you already, filling you up and making you scream as he fucks you hard and mercilessly. There a mantra of next time in his head, promising himself that next time he’ll fuck you harder, faster. Next time he’ll bend you this way and that to get the best angles and get even deeper, but not this time. This time is for slow and delicate, working you up gradually so it’s even sweeter when you fall apart around him. When he’s all the way in he stops again, giving you both time to adjust because even he’s a little overwhelmed by how tight a fit it is, how your body clings to him, your insides fluttering around him and making his cock twitch from the stimulation that he’s not even sure you know you are providing. It’s taken him at least ten minutes to get here, and he feels like he’s teetering on the edge of this being over embarrassingly fast. That’s the last thing he wants, to give you the impression that sex with him would be painful and quick, leaving you unsatisfied and disappointed. That is not the kind of lover he is and Lucifer refuses to ruin your first time all because he had the self-control of Gods first man. 

That surprisingly helps, the thought of you and Adam together angering him enough that Lucifers able to drive back his impending orgasm. Your patience seems to have run out though, rolling your hips against his and dragging a low moan from between Lucifers parted lips. He nips at your lip, tells you to behave but all that gets him is a seductive smirk as you do it again. Lucifer closes his eyes, arms trembling as he holds himself as still as he can, letting you rock ever so slightly on his cock. It’s not enough to be anything other than a tease but Lucifer loves it all the same. He’s always prided himself on being able to please a lover, getting off on knowing he’s driven them to such exhilarating heights. If you were to use him as a living breathing sex doll then he would have no complaints, would probably even thank you for it because he was just that desperate to please. You have other ideas though, hooking a leg around his waist, foot pressing against his ass and urging him down as you roll your hips up to meet him. Your hands back in his hair, cupping the back of his head and keeping his head tucked into your neck. Your other arm is curled under his, hand gripping his shoulder tightly as you moan ever so sweetly in his ear, asking him to “move. Please I…I…please.” You cut yourself off with a desperate little whine, pushing your heel into the small of his back and pressing him as close as he could get. 

Lucifer feels awful, having made you wait whilst he collected himself when clearly you were so desperate for him. He places lots of little kisses across your shoulder and up your neck to your jaw, apologising in between because he’s “so sorry I made you wait so long for me. Promise it won’t happen again. I’m going to take such good care of, give you everything you want and more.” He’s not just talking about now and hopes that you can understand that in your current state. For as long as you want him Lucifer swears that you will want for nothing, at your beck and call every hour of every day. He will treat you like a queen, might even make you one, one day but for now he’s going to start with this. 

Lucifer starts off slow, your tight grip on him loosening enough that he can pull all the way back until his tips the only part of him left inside you. He presses back in just as slowly, both of you moaning at the feel of him pressing against your walls. Lucifer can’t help but lean in, his lips finding yours in a gentle kiss, his pace just as slow and languid as the kisses you exchange. He stays as close to you as he can, his chest pressed against yours and legs intertwined as he moves within you. There’s nothing hard or fast about it, his hips rocking gently in and out of you and slowly stoking the flames of desire that burned within you. It was intimate, Lucifer unable to call it anything other than making love because that was exactly how it felt to him. Just the two of you, so close that all you can feel is the other, all you could see each other, breathing in the other’s air and lips meeting in gentle and love filled kisses as your moans and gasps mix with the sounds of your gentle love making. 

It was too much, yet not enough all at once, Lucifer feeling like he was going to fall apart at the seams at any moment. It’s been a while for him, even before Lilith had left and Lucifer had known there would be a possibility that he might not be able to control himself when with you. There had never been a doubt in his mind that bedding you would be anything other than spectacular, capable of reducing him to pathetic desperate mess but this? It feels too good, too much like divinity and Lucifer can feel his tentative hold on his form slipping, overcome by his own emotions as he losses himself in the moment, completely surrounded by you. 

Praise falls from Lucifers lips in a mumbled mess of words, telling you that you’re “perfect. So good. Doing so well for me. You feel amazing sweetheart, so warm and tight. Fuck. So beautiful like this and all for me. Just me. Oh fuck. Yes!” in between sloppy kisses as he trailed his lips  from your mouth to your neck and then back again, stopping occasionally to suck marks into your neck, the same part of him that had delighted in being your first practically glowing with delight at all the other residents of Hell being able to see his claim on you. Or that could just be the fact he was actually glowing, what remained of his heavenly light growing brighter the closer to his climax he got. 

As much as he wanted this to last for eternity Lucifer could feel his orgasm getting closer and closer, the coil in his stomach tightening as your walls fluttered around him, pulling him back in and leaving him a moaning gasping mess on the edge of tears. He can’t put it off again, approaching his end to quickly for him to slow down now. Panting Lucifer rested his head on your shoulder, closing his eyes and giving himself over to his pleasure. He is not a selfish lover though and Lucifer refuses to let himself fall over the edge without you there with him. It takes a slight bit of manoeuvring, but Lucifer managed to get a hand between the two of you, his thumb rubbing against your clit and making you cry out almost loud enough for all of Hell to hear. It wasn’t an ideal position, being pressed so close to you but he didn’t want to move, didn’t want to stop touching your because if he did this might all disappear and he would find himself alone once more, that gaping black hole of loneliness too much for him to bare. 

Lucifers climax hits him suddenly, his cry of pleasure muffled as he sinks his jagged teeth into the delicate skin in your neck. Vaguely he hears your answering scream, can feel you getting impossibly tighter around him but Lucifer is to lost to really notice, his vision going white as the room floods with light, the sound of wings flapping and something smashing all but a distant hum compared to the white noise ringing in his ears. Euphoric doesn’t even begin to cover how Lucifer feels in that moment. Rapturous maybe, possibly even heavenly. All Lucifer knows is that it feels right, like being welcomed home and loved unconditionally. He falls into it, into you with, with reckless abandonment, letting the feeling drag him under the roaring waves of bliss as they crash into him. 

When Lucifer comes back to himself it’s to find that he’s laying half on top of you, his leg slung over yours, arm draped over your chest and head tucked underneath your chin. You’re humming softly along to the music still playing, arm wrapped around his waist as you card your fingers through his hair. He feels boneless, happy and satisfied in a way that he hasn’t for centuries. He’s so content in-fact that that he can’t help but hum, snuggling in closer and delighting in the little chuckle it gets him. It’s only then that he realises his wings are out, three of them half hanging off the bed and draping across the floor whilst the three on the other side are bent protectively over you, keeping you hidden and safe from the outside world whilst Lucifer himself was to out of it to do so. 

He’s embarrassed by his lack of control, groaning loudly and trying to hide his face in your neck as he apologises for his lack of restraint even as he tried to justify it because “it’s eh been a while since I’ve, well since I’ve done that with anyone and you were, it was, I was just…” Thankfully you stop his ramblings, your fingers pressing on the underside of his chin so he will look up at you. You understand his reaction, even going as far as to tell him how flattered you are that it happened. It makes him blush even more, wings fluttering slightly but no more so then when you thank him, looking him in the eyes and sounding so sincere and serious when you tell him that you were “glad it was you.” He wants to shrug it off, insist that it was his pleasure, quite literally, but there’s something about the look in your eyes that stops him Lucifer instead reacting up to cup your cheek and telling you how honoured he was that you had given him such a gift and promising to treasure it and you for all eternity.  

The two of you share a kiss, as soft and languid as your love making had been. Lucifer was happy to take his time, to spend at least the next hour wrapped in your arms and exchanging lazy kisses but it seemed you had other ideas, pulling away to yawn loudly. Lucifer waves off your apologies, insisting that he too is feeling quite tired considering the time and your choice of evening activities. He tries to move, tries to hide his wings and pull up the covers but you put a stop to that quickly, asking ever so sweetly if the two of you could stay like this, as long as it wouldn’t cause problems with his wings of course. Lucifers to stunned by the request to do anything then just nod, curling against your side and allowing his wings to shrink to a more manageable size that’s less likely to brake something else within his bedroom. Your hand returns to his hair, fingers gently toying with the strands at the base of his skull as you a wrap your other arm around him, slipping it under his bottom wing so you can gently stroke your fingers up and down his spine. He just about resists the urge to purr like a cat though he does find himself relaxing into it, sleep finding him quickly. 

It’s nice, the two of you led in his bed and enjoying the afterglow of your love making. There’s no need for either of you to talk and though Lucifer knows that at some point you will need to, a whole lifetime of things still between you that will need addressing at some point, there is no rush. He’s forever grateful that you chose to stick by him despite his misguided attempt to preserve your virtue and as he drifts off to sleep in your arms Lucifer lets himself truly feel the happiness you inspire within him because that’s what he is, happy. Happier than he had been in a long time, and he hopes, with every ounce of his being, that he can hold onto that happiness until the end of time. 

@viannasthings

@loquacious-libra

If anyone else would like to be tagged please do let me know.

[stariikis]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 | 𝐧.𝐫𝐤

synopsis ; not much to say, just perfectionist yn and former perfectionist riki knowing just how to comfort you :') i need a bf

pairing ; fencer!nishimurariki x fencer!reader genre ; fluff n comfort, established relationship, oneshot wc ; 1616

inspired by ; labyrinth - taylor swift

You’ve always been a perfectionist, and you forever will be.

Riki, darling, on the other hand… you can see his smirk through your fencing mask as you gain a point against him. Feeling proud on your behalf. He, too, is prone to beating himself up for the smallest of mistakes, but his only soft spot is reserved specially for you. 

He grins, walking up to you on the piste and yanking off his mask roughly. “You’re the only one who can match up to my skills.” 

He always says this, and you never believe him. It’s only because I’m his girlfriend, that he’s saying this. 

“Hey,” your eyes go wide and your free hand — not holding your heavy blade, smacks his arm. “You don’t say that about your teammates.” 

Looking indignant, he chuckles and runs a hand through his sweaty hair. “Fencing is an individual sport, though?” 

You roll your eyes. 

Gesturing for him to put his mask back on so you can start fencing again, you apologise to your poor referee. Your teammate and makeshift scorekeeper — Chaehwa — appears absolutely disgusted. Then again, she always wears his expression when she, quote unquote, has to “third-wheel you two.” 

She blinks at you, turns around to another teammate, and signs for “help” with her hand. “Save me from these two, please, Minjeol.” 

Minjeol laughs from the other side of the room, fencing jacket rolled up to her elbows as she crosses over the pistes. Taking a swig of her water, she comes up to pat Chaehwa’s back sympathetically. 

Feigning annoyance, you glance back at Riki and walk back to your en-garde line. Through the mask he blinks at you warmly, and you have to physically restrain yourself from falling to your wobbly knees. 

Minjeol has apparently taken over Chaehwa’s position, probably to save her from the wrath of the most well-known couple in school fencing each other. The captain and the vice-captain, so perfectly matched that it shocks the students who don’t know of them. 

“En-garde.” You fall into the all-too-familiar stance. Riki does the same. “Pretz.” 

“Allez!” 

The rush of adrenaline that breezes through your body should have fuelled you enough to score a point against a very enthusiastic Riki. Should have prevented you from missing the chance to take his blade with your own and attack at once. 

You should have seen it on his face, should have realised his ulterior motive of not attempting an immediate attack. Usually, he’s waaaay too eager to lunge at you as soon as the referee starts the bout. This time, you foolishly believed it was a genuine fault on his part that he didn’t do so. 

But when you lunge forward in a fast and confident attack, Riki smiles devilishly and skitters backwards, giving you the illusion that he’s retreating. However, when you recover from your lunge and start to step forward, he parries your blade away and ripostes. 

It all happens in an instant, and you’re left stumbling backwards as he loses his balance and almost collapses onto you. Dropping his blade and leaving it hanging by his body wire, his hands jolt out to stabilise you. Breathing heavily, he unclasps his wire from the weapon and checks you for injury. 

“Are you okay?” He even tosses his mask to the side and grabs your shoulders in concern. His hubristic exudation — gone in an instant. His eyes scan you. His mind looks at you. It touches you so deeply that tears well up in your eyes and you stumble backwards even more. 

Now, usually your tears are out of self-disappointment, pure frustration fuelling the tears leaking out your eyes. You’d try to hold them back, to no avail, and Riki would come over and take off your mask, wiping the tears away just as you wish you could wipe away your dismay. 

And he does just that, with the belief that you’re internally reprimanding yourself for your errors in gameplay. His fingers run through your hair, slowly sliding off the hair-tie you used for your messy bun. An icky, sinking feeling fills your stomach when you see the sadness glazing over your boyfriend’s eyes. 

He may seem overly self-confident, but he sure does know the feeling of a bad case of low self-esteem. 

“You sure you want to cry here, my dear?” He leans down to whisper, thumb rubbing soothingly over your upper back. Though you had decided to wear slightly elevated sports shoes today, he still towers above you. “You want me to walk you to the restroom?” 

He knows you so well, too well, it hurts your heart to even think. 

When you don’t answer, your chest feeling clogged up with the sobs escaping you, he unhooks himself from the piste, and then unhooks you as well. He drags you away from the piste and leaves Minjeol standing uselessly by its side. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs after handing you your Hydroflask and helping you remove your lame. “I shouldn’t have tricked you like that.” 

That’s what he’s worried about? That. That is so incredibly annoying. 

“I’m not upset about that,” you laugh, finally swiping away the last of your tears. “Really. I know it sounds like I’m lying but seriously, I’d rather you try your best than go easy on me. You know?” 

Nodding earnestly, Riki sends a charming smile your way before unzipping your fencing jacket. “Then why were you crying? I mean, like, you couldn’t breathe — type of crying.” 

You tilt your head but remain silent. And then it strikes you. As much as you were touched by Riki’s loving attention, you cannot doubt that you still have so much self-hatred broiling inside you, so much that now you can’t even tell it’s there when you break down. 

So much that Riki can detect your emotions even before you can. He’s not even a master empath; usually he can’t pick up hints of irritation when he teases you. But now, he’s either strengthened his sympathising skills, or he’s grown so used to you crying over every miniscule thing. 

“You know,” he slips your weapon into the blade cover for you, “I can read you.” 

It hits a little too close to home, and you flinch at how well he can read your thoughts. Following that, he still somehow has the audacity to ask, “penny for your thoughts?” 

Riki blinks at you, lips subconsciously forming a pout like they always do. It’s endearing and makes your heart ache endlessly. You don’t like this. You should not be feeling so down after every single training session. You’re the captain, for goodness sake. Your teammates are going to think you’re weak, sitting out every session just to cry to your boyfriend. 

”I’m fine,” you say, a statement you want to engrave in your mind. A promise to yourself that it’s really the truth. Because it really, truly is. “I’m fine.” 

Riki stares at you doubtfully through half-lidded eyes, but merely scoots closer to you on the floor. His hand reaches out to touch your knee. His lips lean in to gently touch your cheek, and you shiver upon the contact. Never has a training felt so warm and fuzzy. 

After the kiss, you glance around the room, relieved to see nobody is looking your way. Maybe they’re already used to it, or maybe they’re secretly spectating and whispering behind your back. Either way, nobody’s making the effort to bother you and Riki. 

“You know you’re doing well, right?” Riki whispers, so close you can feel his breath warm on your ear. It’s all you’ve ever wanted to hear, but can never ask to hear. But there’s still a lingering doubt deep in your soul. Ironic, isn’t it? It’s all you’ve ever wanted to hear and you still. don’t. believe it. Not one bit. 

He goes on, “It’s amazing that you can even see where you go wrong. Sometimes I don’t even know how I’ve lost my point, and it’s pretty embarrassing.” 

Pursing your lips to suppress a laugh, you mutter, “that’s your problem, not mine. Maybe I’m good but I’m not good enough.” 

“But you are!” A mock-annoyed Riki grabs ahold of your hands and brings them close to his chest. The genuity lacing his voice and the way his eyes go wide in an attempt to help you believe in yourself — you just accept what he’s saying without any further thought. 

What more is there to internally debate about anyway? If Riki believes, you believe too. You smile and he kisses you lightly again in return. If fencing is your hell, Riki is your heaven. 

“You ready?” Minjeol raises her eyebrows at you as if confirming whether you’re really willing to repeat the cycle all over again. At first, you’re hesitant, uncertainty swamping over your every sense. But when Riki comes over to test guard and salute, the warm, encouraging smile painted on his face helps you nod with confidence. 

“En-garde. Pretz. Allez!” 

It’s been a while since I’ve done this. 

You both charge towards each other, but you’re faster. A feign and a double-attack later, you’ve scored the winning point against Riki. The latter seems even happier than you for this, which is insanely cute to you. He walks up to you, mask already off and in his hands. Setting his aside, he leans to help you with yours and then presses a finger to his cheek. 

“A kiss for your biggest supporter and mentor?” He laughs boyishly. 

“Mentor!” You gasp, pretending to take offense. “Do you even deserve this?” 

You press your lips against his cheek, trying not to take notice of the way his face goes pink. 

Victory has never tasted so sweet. 

thanks for reading!! and yes, i'm a fencer. and they're using the foil weapon teehee

some terminology used that you might need to know en-garde, pretz, allez - words used to start a bout en-garde - french for "on guard", a stance with knees bent used by fencers lame - the silver electric jacket worn on the outermost part of the body riposte - an attacking action used after a parry

i'll take this time to promote my chaptered nishimura riki fic, you in the rain. if you're a fan of wifty or taylor, be sure to check it out! hehe

more of my works >

[nerdraging4point0]

Underdog//Motionless one shot

The work below consists of fictionalized ideas and stories. It is an alternate universe story with only names and likenesses used in creation of a character. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction. Please review the content warning before proceeding.

CW: 18+ MNDI, Coach/athlete au, coach athlete sexual relationship [all parties regardless of being fiction are of legal age of consent. This does not mean that the behavior is ethical or acceptable in reality-does it happen, yes. Is that something I am going to go into? No. I am not an attorney. Per ChampionWomen Sexual contacts or “romantic” relationships between an athlete and a person who has a position of power over the athlete are prohibited. Person of power includes but is not limited to coaches, administrators, judges, referees, employers, staff, medical personnel, and even volunteers or older athletes and teammates.] the following one shot includes unprotected sex, P/V sex, fingering.

A.N: @mysticdoodlez and @ladyveronikawrites I present to you and owe you for this fucking piece of art.

Exhibition

Coach Cerulli stood off to the side in the coach's box, not saying a word, his legs shoulder-width apart as he swayed back and forth on his feet. He wears his disgustingly dark ensemble of worn high-top Converse and straight-leg jeans. Already obnoxiously tall, the dress style made him look even more intimidating. Glancing over him once, you notice an apparent sweat triangle starting at the collar of the black cotton tee he wore under his polyester team jersey. An electric green sea turtle was stitched on the right side of his chest, and Cerulli was stitched on the back. Trying to focus on your drill partner, Rachel, you steal quick glances after each ball toss. Under the black bill of his ball cap, Coach Cerulli's jaw clenched as he chewed the pale green gum between his teeth. 

Rachel rolled the neon yellow ball across the rust-colored dirt toward you; spreading your legs apart, bending at the waist, glove in hand, you dip to the ground, catching the ball on its roll, securing it with your other hand, you take a step, and toss the ball to her again. 

As a team, you'd been at this for an hour now; the humidity from the earlier rain made beads of sweat start at the back of your neck and under your cap. The gray storm clouds rolled over the Florida coast, looking angry; another storm was approaching.

Balmy tropical air and classic South Florida smell were something you'd missed when you were on break. Some of the girls decided to pack up and hit the slopes of Colorado for a week; you were more than eager to go. It had been a celebratory and bittersweet season last year, and you were all due for a nice getaway. Coach Adams announced last season that she'd be retiring sooner than expected. Her youngest had just graduated High School, and she struggled to adjust.

Enter Coach Cerulli. 

He was overbearing and a perfectionist; he drilled and worked the team till he felt you were perfect. It worked, or maybe it was because you wanted to impress Coach Adams for her final season. Leaving the season last year, you were nearly undefeated. And it was no surprise now that he demanded the same perfection. 

"You're looking soft, ladies. Let's pick it up. I wanna see some sweat, some determination, act like you fucking want it." He crossed his arms, kicking up some of the dirt from the field before he dropped down, squatting on one knee as he stretched the other to its entire length. 

Several players on the team turned to look at the coach; it was no secret most of the team found him hot. He was older. Way older. But that added to the heat of the idea. You were aware of Coach Cerulli's attractiveness, his dark hair and eyes; the only part of his skin not covered in tattoos was his achingly beautiful face. Once you'd gotten close enough to see his three little scars on his bottom lip, it only added to the mystery of what had been his past. Fantasy is what it was; it was all fantasy. There was no room for error when your college life was riding on a full sports scholarship. 

The team continued to drill, the breeze from the water bringing a salty taste to the air. Soon, the sun started to get lost behind the gray cover, thinking it might rain you guys out; the team slowed on drills, looking to coach and back at the sky. Coach stands up to his full height, his powerful form casting a shadow over the field. Deep and commanding, his voice brought the team's eyes and attention to him. 

"I've high expectations for my team; this isn't just any season. I have my sights set on the championship title, and we won't settle for anything less." Clapping his hands, you can hear the friction of him rubbing the skin together, his tattooed fingers lacing and curling over each other in a frenzy. A low rumble of thunder sounded from the sky; Coach Cerulli pursed his lips and looked at the foreboding weather.

 "One scrimmage, and we'll call it a night."

The team scrambled to their gear as he called out names and positions. You adjusted your cap, pulling loose strands of hair around your ears and reaching for your glove when the coach's voice called out your name.

"y/l/n. You're batting." There was no nonsense in his voice, and when you turned to protest, he smacked his gum between his teeth, heading to stand behind home plate. 

You never bat, at least not first; the pressure is too much. You were a fielder on the team with the best reflexes and speed. Others were better at this than you. Grabbing the bat, you lower your cap and head to the base. Coach is droning on about how he demands perfection from all players.

"We won't be putting people in places of their strength. I want you uncomfortable; it's the only way you grow." He turns to look at you and nods his head. Stepping up to the plate, you take your spot, raising your bat, eyes locked on Sammi, who is pitching. She gives you a look of pity, and you know she'll take it easy on you, at least. 

"Bat up." Coach growls. 

"It is up," you snap back. 

"If 'up' means hanging off your shoulder. It needs to be up higher. Fix your grip." 

You tighten your hands on the bat's base, nails nearly touching your palms as your hands turn white.

"Too tight, you're not strangling it." 

You huff out the air in your lungs, rolling your eyes. Just let me hit the ball, goddamnit. 

Sammi pitches the ball. It's a simple pitch, and you swing, barely ticking the ball; it doesn't even get air, hardly leaving the home base as it rolls back to her. Just great, I look like a peewee player in front of the coach. 

"Jenson, if you're gonna pitch. Pitch." he snaps. 

You watch as her face turns apologetic; great, no easy out this time.

"Fix your stance." a smack of his gum between his teeth follows his command. You can hear the wet smacking sounds, throwing you off concentration. He continues to throw useless advice your way each time you miss the ball. 

"You're off center."

Your patience is running thin, and you can see the players on the field becoming bored from the lack of action, just standing in the field and talking back and forth. 

"Ladies, look alive!" Coach booms, and they jump into their stance. 

Sammi nods at you, winding up to pitch; you lose all of the coach's advice, squaring up how you want. The swing is powerful, but the ball still whooshes by your bat and hits the fence behind the coach. 

You let the air out of your lungs, turning around to see Coach Cerulli looking right at you, arms crossed over his torso. You can see his brown eyes sparkling under his ball cap. 

"Nice hit," he says sarcastically. 

Tossing the bat, you walk off the field, tears stinging the back of your eyes and starting to burn your throat. You've had enough for one night. 

You can hear him bark orders to the team as the practice continues without you. Walking from the field, you walked around campus once, then twice; on your second lap, you realized you were halfway to your dorm and didn't have any of your gear. Your hands drag down your face in frustration, pushing your cap off your head. Your hair is sticky as you put the cap between your teeth and readjust the ponytail. Throwing the cap back on your head, you turn on your heel and head back to the field. 

Making your way back, you pass several teammates; keeping your cap down, you avoid their eye contact, but the sudden silence as you pass and the sad voices that follow behind your back don't go unnoticed.

Rachel caught sight of you, jogging up to meet you halfway walking backward as you continued your walk of shame to the field. 

"What's up? You walked off?" She has such sadness in her voice. She knows that you are sometimes too hard on yourself. You only have a little social life between studies and sports; your trip out of state lets you loosen up and gives you a good one-night stand. But it made you realize how much you hated having unsatisfactory sex with some drunk frat boy. 

"Rough time, that's all," you confess.

"I know you hate batting. I'm sorry." you only shrug your shoulders in response.

Coach Cerulli is tossing bags of extra bats and gloves next to the storage shed; the way he lifts the gear bag, throwing it over his shoulder, you catch his shirt ride up just a bit to reveal his tattooed torso.

"Need me to wait?" Rachel asks, offering a soft touch on your shoulder. 

"No. I got this." She jogs back to the campus as you enter the field. Turning at the dugout, not meeting the coach's eyes as he looks your way.

You are gathering your gear in your bag, trying not to make eye contact with the coach. The thunder is rumbling overhead again, closer than before; you can smell the rain coming. A heavy set of footsteps, and suddenly, he's clearing his throat behind you, your shoulders dropping in defeat.

"Sorry, coach." You keep your voice low and sincere. Feeling the pain in your throat again. Don't cry. Don't cry. 

"What's up with you out there?" The way he sounds less demanding, and the friendly tone in his words makes a lump form in your throat.

"I just get choked up."

"Why, you're here on a scholarship. Adams said you were the most dedicated player."

"And I am." You don't bother turning around. Tossing your glove and a few extra things into your bag.

"Didn't look like it today."

"People aren't perfect; not everyone can play every position you know." You turn around to face him; he's leaning against the dugout rail, ankles crossed, hands resting on the dark blue rail. 

"So, what is it that holds you back?"

"I just…. It's the crowd, the ump, and the pressure. The crowd is watching me, the team is watching me, and you're watching me." He adjusts his cap, turning his head to spit his gum out in the grass. 

"Grab your bat."

"What?" He kicks off the rail, stopping till he is only a foot in front of you. 

"You heard me. Grab your bat."

You scrambled for the bat as he walked back onto the field. You follow close behind, with no other teammates around the field that looks like it goes on for miles. Taking up your space next to home, you get ready to bat. 

You are barely set before he criticizes you. 

"Okay, first, your grip is too much." He stepped forward, putting his hands over yours, pulling your fingers loose from the neck, his large hands encasing your own as he helped re-grip the bat properly.

"Loosen up, spread your hands out a bit. There," the last word comes out as a soft whisper.

His brown eyes softened as he looked into your face, calloused hands brushing your skin; they were surprisingly well taken care of, the tattoos accenting every knuckle. The sweet smell of wintergreen off his breath, the fragrance winding up your insides. 

"Your feet," he circled around till he was standing behind you, twisting your body around till you could see him again; he tsked, circling the air with his finger for you to return to where you were.

 "You're always on your toes,” he complained.

His words were almost lost to the electricity in your brain; he squatted down behind you, one arm sliding between your legs to wrap around your thigh, a hand bracing on your knee, as his other massaged down my calf to have your heel flatten on the ground. 

"Now, for your hips." Coach's words sound scratchy; you can hear him swallow hard behind you. His hands ghost over your hips, carefully not to actually touch you. "You must bend at the waist and practically fold yourself in half."

"Arch my back?" you offer. He clears his throat the way it sounded like he was uncomfortable.

"Yeah, sounds about right." 

You adjust your hips arching your back, with your feet firmly planted against the ground, your cleats into the dirt, pushing your ass back. You feel yourself brush against his body, and he hisses.

"Easy there, tiger." 

"S-s-sorry." you stammer as you try to step back. His hands grab your hips and place you back in your stance. His body is so close you can feel the heat building on your skin; suddenly, you aren't distracted by nerves but by something else. 

"We aren't done; just watch it," he whispers. "You want to keep yourself firm in this spot until you're ready to swing."

A drop of warm water hits your arm, then another, and another. The rain starts to pour down in a gentle storm. 

"Shit." Coach releases your hips as you both jog back to the dugout. Safe under the awning, you lose footing on the last step, stumbling into the coach. He catches you, arms around your waist, as he stumbles back.

"Sorry," your voice barely audible over the rain tapping on the metal awning; you place your hands on his chest, feeling the stiff muscles underneath. Trying to push off to create distance between the two of you. Coach Cerulli's hands don't move as he looks down at you, those dark eyes glistening under the shadow of his cap. This close to him, your senses are overwhelmed with the smell of him-palo santo and amber, a rich blend like a robust coffee in one of those expensive coffee shops. 

His hands slid up your back, gently caressing over the upper part of your arms, stopping at your wrists and taking them in a grip before pulling your hands off his chest.

"Let's work on your hips some more. It looks like we've got the time." The way he says the words suggests he doesn’t mean anything about batting anymore. 

He spun you around so seamlessly, releasing your wrists to take your hips in the vice grip of his tattooed fingers. Pulling your body toward him, you could feel yourself make contact with his chest; he was so tall, the feeling of what was unmistakably his own arousal resting at your lower back. 

Flames licked into your lower belly as his hands tightened, then loosened on your hips. He started to move you, sliding your hips from left to right in slow motions. "Keep your feet planted on the floor." The harsh whisper in your ear made every part of your skin tremble with anticipation. 

You tried to steady your breathing as he moved you in slow motion against his body. Was this all a dream? Were you asleep in physics and about to be highly embarrassed when you woke up?

Your hands rested on his, trying to prove to yourself that all that was happening was real. Leaning back into his chest, he groaned as he pulled you in closer. 

"This is so wrong." your voice trembles as you speak.

"Very," he growled, kissing the soft flesh of your neck. "Tell me to stop, and I will." 

Fuck, please don't.

It wasn't a good idea to continue, but the feeling, the expert way his hands held you without touching anything intimate, made you melt. 

Leaning your head back into his chest, your face turned to him, desperate for his kiss. Sensing your desperation, Coach took the bill of his hat between two fingers, spinning the cap on his head so it faced backward. Closing in on your face, his full lips consuming your own, two fingers brushing your cheek, tapping twice, asking you to open. 

The second your jaw relaxed into the kiss, his tongue was assaulting your own. He tasted so good, that gum he'd been chewing and something nutty at the end filling your taste buds. 

You let your arm snake behind his head, cupping the back of his neck to bring him closer. One of his hands takes your breast and squeezes the flesh through your clothes, your nipples sensitive to the touch even through all the layers. His other hand slides over the front of your shorts, pushing between your thighs; your hips start to grind into his hand, desperate for friction, earning a sound of approval from the coach.

Pulling apart from each other, lips wet, red, and swollen, you were panting to catch all the air you'd lost in the kiss. 

"Brace yourself, tiger," he warned. 

Pushing hard against you, he shoved you forward till you folded over against the railing, his body pressed tightly against yours. Forcing your hands to grip the rail.

"Remember your grip." he teased, releasing his hold. His hands slid slowly down your sides, thumbs hooking into the band of your shorts to tug them and your panties down to your ankles. You gasped being exposed like this, the adrenaline of being caught coursing through your blood, the sound of your own heartbeat in your ears. 

He kicked your feet apart, having your legs spread till you could feel the resistance of your shorts tight around your ankles. He took your hips in his hands, bringing your ass against him again, "Remember your stance." the words going straight to your center as he nipped at your ear. 

His hands disappeared, and you let out a whine from losing his touch. He shuffled behind you, dipping his head in the crook of your neck to place soft kisses on your pulse point. His hand slid up the inside of your thigh, and feeling the muscles quiver under his fingers, you paused to consider what you were doing, your mind telling you that this was wrong. You'd get caught, and you'd be a disappointment to your parents. The thoughts of calling it off stopped when two fingers slid inside your warmth. His fingers scissored open and closed, swirling around before opening and closing again, stretching your walls with expert skills.

"So tight." He continued to whisper dark and dirty words as his fingers buried into you to the knuckle. The rough pressure pushes you forward and off your heels. Feeling your release boiling just under the surface, you start to grind down on his fingers as they thrust up into you, whimpering for more. You have started to lean over the rail, seeing the field's dirt and glancing down more to see both your feet and his. His pants at his ankles like yours, and the thought that his cock was out and ready for you, made you moan. 

He wraps his hand around your hair, still pulled into a ponytail under your cap; rolling the strands around his hand, tugging you back so his chest is pressed tight to your back, fingers still buried deep inside you.

"Say the word, and I'll stop."

Past the point of no return, you moan, rolling your hips into his hands, still chasing your release. He presses his face into your cheek, nose running through the hairline above your ear as he inhales your scent; it's feral, it's animalistic, it's so fucking hot. His lips press into your ear, and you feel his hot breath against her skin. "You gonna come for me, tiger?"

You barely managed to nod your head before he curled his fingers, pressing on that soft spot inside you, making your walls clench around his fingers. He lets out a strangled sound of approval and surprise, taking the slick of your orgasm to rub on his erection. His left hand cupped your ass before delivering a harsh slap to the skin, making you rock up onto your toes. 

He slides his length between your thighs, coating the head in everything left of your orgasm. Muscles in his chest are tight with anticipation and what you hope is desire. "Listen carefully, tiger," his voice breathless as he pants in your ear. "This is the only time I want you on your toes for me. Got it."

"Yes, coach." you gasp as his length slides into your warm center. He pumps slowly as you stretch around him, the hiss from your lips echoing across the field through the rain. "F-f-fuck." you moan. 

Bottoming out with hard thrusts, Coach's hands rested on the railing on top of yours, his fingers lacing between yours as he held you and the rail in a vice grip. Your bodies molded into each other so well you felt the hem of his jersey wrap around your thighs; god, if only you could take it home with you as a trophy for this. 

"I should stop," he was panting, his voice strained. "I'm gonna get fired." 

"Please," you begged, turning your head to see his beautiful flushed face, mouth agape, tufts of his black hair sticking out from under his cap. "I won't say anything, just please don't stop." 

"Fuck." he groaned, continuing to thrust into you, the force pushing you practically over the rail still on your toes, the muscles in your calves straining. Your thighs shook, the rain coming to an end as another tight coil wrapped itself in your belly, ready to snap.

"One more, give me one more, tiger," he growled, nipping at your earlobe. The scream as you clenched around him echoed off the field, causing him to clasp a hand over your mouth. "That's it. Scream for me." 

Your noises were muffled by his hand on your mouth, and the hot breath as he panted on your cheek brought another orgasm on the wave of the first. One final snap of his hips and warm ropes filled your body, and all the tension of his muscles was released in one minute. 

The magic of whatever you two did was gone when he pulled his softened cock from you, reaching down to pull up your shorts and letting you get them back on the rest of the way; you barely turned around, seeing him taking a little bounce to get back into his jeans. 

"Head out, tiger. I'll see you at tomorrow's practice." 

You nod briefly, grab your bag, sling it over your shoulder, and bat in the other hand. Just as you are about to leave the field, you turn around to see Coach sitting on the bench in the dugout, hands running through his sweaty black hair. 

"Coach?" you let the rasp fall off your tongue, and he turns to look your way. "Extra practice tomorrow night?" giving a wink to let him know what you mean. He doesn't skip a beat, a smile tugging at his lips. 

"It'll be a late practice. You game?"

"Anything for you, coach." you leave the comment in the air as you walk back to your dorm. 

Crashing into your dorm with shaky legs, you throw down your gear. 

"Whoa." Rachel commented, "You look brutal!"

"Thanks," you meekly respond, flopping onto the bed before curling up under the blanket. 

"What did he do to you?"

"Who?" you mumbled, feeling your eyelids start to get heavy.

"Coach. You look like he had you do suicides for leaving the field?"

"Nothing gets past you, Rach." you smiled as your body drifted to sleep. 

Several months later, and one game win thanks to you and a home run hit, Coach Cerulli announced his retirement. Disappointed but not surprised you accepted the new coach with open arms. She was sweet and spicy, a good coach, making your focus back on the game. The rumors were Coach moved states, you’d had his number but the digits disconnected a few weeks after his departure. 

Just as well, you thought.

 It was almost winter break, and a final due in Psychology had kept you up most nights, your body riddled with tension from the stress. 10 p.m., and you hadn't even bothered to try and sleep yet, your phone buzzed with a new text. Opening it up, it was a number you didn't recognize, but the message was clear. 

How you been, tiger?

[adoristsposts]

number one supporter | nico hischier

author's note; he is so beautiful he makes my brain short circuit summary; anger on the ice turns into an annoying relationship that seems to follow the two of you everywhere. until eventually, maybe, the nuisance of each others presence turns into something else. word count; 1.8k warnings; fluff, swearing, slight enemies to lovers? characters; fem!Reader x Nico Hischier, platonic!Reader x Mat Barzal

There was nothing worse than your temper when it came to hockey. The fact that your best friend played made it easier to rile you up, fans realised quickly. Before long you were a beloved figure for Islander fans to joke about. Their favourite thing to poke fun at was your inability to hold yourself back. Which showed now, as you banged on the plexiglass and yelled “Offsides!” The devils player who had committed the act turned to you. Decked head to toe in Islanders attire (a beanie, jersey, and scarf. The rest he couldn't see), you took his eye contact without falter. His eyebrows tugged together. Who were you? His expression morphed from confusion into annoyance as the referee blew his whistle and lifted his arm. Offsides. You had called it and the ref had listened to you. And you were right, of course (he would later find out you were always right when it came to hockey), which perplexed Nico even more. Who were you? The question seemed summed up when Mathew Barzal slammed his shoulder into the glass. You rolled your eyes at him but your previously fiery expression melted away into a badly disguised smile. The player laughed, laughed! at you. Obviously his girlfriend, Nico thought to himself with a scoff. This seemed further proven when you turned around and pointed both thumbs at the back of your jersey. Like a possessive mark, a billboard as to who you were and why you were there. Barzal, splashed across your back. The man in front of him took it in, then turned to skate away. He noticed Nico's lingering attention and drifted over to him. "Don't you just love it when the fans really know what they're talking about?" Dick, Nico thought.

Nico remembered you, he thought as he walked through the arrivals. You were chatting away with Beauvillier happily, waving your hands every which way. He faltered for a moment, urging the memory to surface. And then it did. He allowed himself, for a moment, to wonder if maybe he had gotten your relationship with the Islanders' golden boy wrong. Then Barzal came in and tugged on your hair like a bothersome boyfriend. You swatted him away and your laugh carried through the building. Beauvillier spotted Nico and raised a hand in a wave. This garnered the attention of the other two. Barzal turned and nodded at him. You however didn't move. You levelled your gaze on Nico and the boy froze. Then as if he had failed your test, you turned back to Mathew and said something, pushing him on his chest. Not wanting to try and decipher what, Nico nodded at Beauvillier and moved on.

You made yourself apparent in the game yet again. You made a howling, "Ow ow!" noise during warm ups every time an Islanders player passed you. They all shook their heads and grinned. During the game it was like you turned into a fifty year old dad drunkenly watching the super bowl. You celebrated every goal like it was an overtime winning one. You chirped the boys as they went, "Nice miss, Barzy!" Seemed to be your favourite one. It seemed every frustration of a mess up washed away when you opened your lip glossed mouth. Every celebration made better by your euphoric yelps of excitement. When the second period rolled around, Nico felt anxious. Literally anxious under your gaze. He missed a shot and- "Wanna try getting the puck in the net, pretty boy?" His eyes widened. He couldn't stop his lips from parting. When he looked at you, you were smiling at him like he was just another Isles player. It felt a little like sunshine on his face. Bright, warm, and blinding, he added to himself as someone stole the rebound from him and the puck was suddenly on the other side of the ice. Shit. He thought. And it was like you could hear him wondering how he had gotten so distracted, as your lips curled in a feline smile and you nodded at him. He couldn't hear you well over the roar of the crowd, but he could make out the words. "Puck went that way."

This time he wouldn't let his mind wander. This time he wouldn't pay attention to you. You were just a girl. Just another WAG. Another Isles supporter he couldn't wait to piss off. It was his arena tonight, his home ice, he had the power. All his self imposed mantras washed away. Anders Lee, the biggest guy on the team, chirped "She distracting you again, or you playing this bad on purpose?" Nico swung without thinking. He was tired, his skates were tied too tight and hurt, and Lee had just sent him flying into the boards a few seconds ago. The second the fight was broken up he knew what was coming. He shook his head, skating to the penalty box. He hadn't seen you yet, and he was far from relieved that he finally did now. "Having fun, pretty boy?" You called, tapping the glass he was confined in. He yanked his helmet off, "Yeah. Your boyfriend sucks. Having a great time beating him." You pursed your lips, "Which one?" He couldn't help the laugh that tumbled from him. A deep one that came from his chest, shocked at the utter audacity you carried on you. "Barzal? Number 13? Ring a bell?" He turned his eyes back to the game. "I only have eyes for you." You teased. Then, almost as if you sensed the way he didn't believe you, you added "Hischier." The name made it seem more realistic. You knew his name. Or you had heard it on the broadcast, at least. Or maybe from Barzal. "Consider changing your jersey, then." He joked. He turned back to see if you would laugh at his joke, but you were gone. Disappeared into the crowd. Later he would check twitter and find out that, for once, you had set yourself up in the area designated for players friends and family. You had slipped away only once or twice, and fans found it hilarious that one of those times had been to mock Nico as he sat in the penalty box.

This would be his final time playing the Islanders this season, Nico reassured himself as he kicked a soccer ball around with some other boys on the team. The movement helped him dispel his nerves. Soon he'd be on the ice, on display for you. If anyone noticed his quiet stress, they didn't point it out. He got a few shoulder clasps. But no indicator other than that. He didn't even know you. He had to keep reminding himself of that. He just knew you called every penalty the refs missed. And that half the time, the confidence in your voice had them calling it- albeit, a few seconds late and to the chagrin of any opposing team. Nico shook his arms and upper body as he waited for the national anthem to start. Trying to get out the boredom and growing anxiety. His eyes searched the crowd. Away games were always hard. Nothing compared to the joy of seeing an entire crowd wearing the Devils shade of red. Nothing, it seemed, except for the absolute electricity as he recognised you, donning that exact colour. You noticed his attention almost immediately. Then you tugged at the sleeve to show off the number stitched into the side. As if he hadn't seen it already. As if his entire body hadn't been overcome with chills as it took him only a split to realise you had taken his words to heart. Consider changing your jersey, then. And you had. You were still on the Islanders side of the rink, though, and donned the familiar scarf and beanie. Oh well, Nico thought as the lights dimmed and a woman started singing Star Spangled Banner. That will change in due time.

After what he considered to be maybe the best game of his life, Nico felt a little surprised when Beauvillier congratulated him by dapping him up and smiling at him in a way the man hadn't smiled at him before. It was dripping with a knowing look. Twenty minutes later Nico was showered and changed and surprised to find you greeting him outside the locker room. "You give good advice, Hischier." You hummed. He got over his initial shock quickly. "How'd your boyfriend feel about that?" "Don't have one," Your answer had been assumed at this point, "Barzy's my best friend, though. And he found it pretty amusing." "I bet." Nico trailed off. He really didn't know enough about you to keep the conversation going, that much was obvious. "This is the part where you're supposed to ask for my number, Hischier." He fumbled with his phone as he pulled it out of his pocket and unlocked it before practically thrusting it into your hands. Every ounce of manliness had fled his body and he was unable to even speak. He wanted to make some smart comeback. Ask if you even knew his first name. "You ready?" Interrupted the pathetic moment. Mat was coming down the hallway. "Yep." You told him. Nico couldn't even force himself to say something cool as a parting gift. He closed and opened his mouth as you walked away, until eventually calling a "Bye!" to your retreating figure. He heard your laugh. You didn't turn around as you waved him goodbye over your shoulder.

There was no games that could compare to Playoffs. You had made the trip from New York to New Jersey on your own. It was the first time you had ever done so without Mat (What business would I have in Jersey? You had joked to him). After the first game loss, Nico felt like shit. 5-1 was bad. The only thing that made it better was that the second he was out of the locker room you were tugging him to your car with a lazy grin. "Baby, come on." You laughed. His steps were slow and heavy with self pity. When you finally reached your car you rested against the hood and pulled him to you. "Don't sweat it." He grumbled something intelligible in response. You kissed him softly, slowly, and against his lips mumbled "Those refs were fucking idiots. I won't let them make those mistakes next game." "Next game?" He asked, pulling away from you with a shit eating smile on his face. "Yes." You confirmed. "Next game. The Islanders can live without me for a little bit. I have a boyfriend to support." Nico couldn't help but tease "A jersey boyfriend to support" "Don't push your luck, Hischier." You growled in response. But you were smiling and kissing him again, and he knew that come next game you'd be glued to the boards calling out every foul except for his.