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leilanihours · 4 months ago

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i'm so fucking desperate for more aubrey content it's insane and i loved you 'supernatural' writing and i'm obsessed. i wanted to ask you if you could write aubrey x fem!reader reader is a basketball player and her and aubrey is in a secret relationship that no one knows about and reader is playing for iowa she get's hurt when they are playing against uconn (let's say that aubrey didn't tore her ACL and played) and she wasn't thinking and ran over to reader who's laying on the floor. aubrey is kneeling next to her, holding her hand and only realises what is happening when both teams are around them

# GET YOU

pairing: aubrey griffin x iowa!reader

word count: 1808

warnings: mention of slight injury

summary: even when you get injured in a game against your girlfriend and her team, she ignores all common sense to help you.

⭑ from lani: finally got some writing done after how many weeks...i altered the req a little bit anon i hope thats okay!! anyways hope ygs like it ☺️

masterlist !

SWEAT DRIPS DOWN your face and neck as you run the ball down the court, fully confident in yourself as you glide into a beautiful open lay-up. cheers erupt throughout the stadium as iowa gets a two-point lead over uconn.

it was the final four round of this season's march madness tournament, and everything was on the line. your team had taken many hits and conquered many schools to get to this game, and you were well prepared to do the same to uconn tonight.

you as well as any of your teammates had no problem admitting how skilled uconn was, especially with two extremely talented comeback players: paige bueckers and aubrey griffin.

they were uconn's resident superstars, with their poise and energy being unmatched and unbeatable. as the pair of them were recovering from a torn acl, they were determined to make their last season at uconn their best.

"let's go, y/n!" your teammate, kate, cheers as she bumps her chest with yours. you smile widely as you make your way over to the iowa bench with uconn calling a timeout.

"alright, girls, this is the home stretch right here," coach bluder yells in the huddle, "take what you want, and take it with hawkeye pride!"

she nods to kate, your team's captain, as she steps aside to let her speak.

"okay, caitlin, great job dropping threes on them, just make sure you're still balancing your deep shots with drives to the basket," she advises the brunette. caitlin nods in response, dragging a towel over her face and adjusting her hair band.

"y/n? you're a beast tonight, keep that shit up, yeah?" she compliments, "coach, is it okay if she tries guarding griffin? i think she would be a better matchup for her in this final quarter."

"you got it, kate, i trust you. y/n, you okay with that?"

you freeze for a second at the mention of the name, but agree with a smirk nonetheless, "yeah, i got her."

"okay great," kate starts, eyeing you suspiciously, "everyone else: whatever you're doing just keep it up and push harder. our main priorities on the court are getting caitlin the ball and clearing paths for y/n to drive."

"alright!" coach bluder steps back in, "hawks on three! one, two, three-"

"HAWKS!"

the active lineup disperses from the group as they scatter back onto the court, you jog up to number forty-four, a player you were more than familiar with.

you nod to the taller girl, "griffin."

"l/n," she nods back as she tries to hold back a smile.

you smirk back in her direction before locking back into the game, immediately defending the girl with no intent of letting her score.

were you undeniably in love with this girl? yes, without a doubt. but were you going to let that stop you from winning the championship? hell no.

you see paige bueckers inbound the ball to kk arnold as she starts to dribble the ball to the hoop at a steady pace.

she fakes a pass to nika and tries to send it to aubrey, but you anticipated this move, easily intercepting the ball and taking it down the court.

aubrey lets out a quick "damn" as she watches you disrupt the play like it was nothing. she is quick on your heels, trailing you with set purpose. the rest of the uconn girls adjust smoothly, speeding across the floor to run defense.

you dribble the ball a little bit behind the three-point line with one arm stretched out toward aubrey, trying to create some space.

your hand hovers over her waist as you attempt to distract her, "c'mon griffin, let me breathe," you joke, still bouncing the ball steadily.

you make eye contact with hannah and hold up a fist to signal what play you should run. she immediately understands, running up to you and setting a screen.

you break away from aubrey and pass the ball to caitlin, who pretends to shoot a corner-three, but passes back to you as you run right under the net.

you leap into the air and send the ball into the net, but as you're mid-jump, you feel a hand pull at your arms in an attempt to block you. still, you power through and send the ball against the backboard in hopes of it falling through.

the sudden grasp surprises you, making you lose your balance as you feel your ankle roll underneath your weight at the landing.

the unsteadiness causes you to fall to the ground right behind the post, forcing you to brace yourself with your arms behind you.

you hear a whistle blow, presumably at the interaction you were just part of. you are entitled to one free throw and the opportunity to complete a three-point play.

you want to celebrate but are too busy clutching your ankle in pain on the floor. wincing, you try to stand up on your own but fail miserably.

you hear someone's sneakers hurriedly squeak against the wood floor and look up to surprisingly see aubrey holding her hands out to you with hints of concern on her face.

your eyebrows are furrowed as you glance at her but reach for her nonetheless. she pulls you up with ease and wraps an arm around your waist as you shift your weight onto your unaffected leg.

"you okay, superstar?" she asks you with a laugh.

"i'm good, griffin, thanks," you pant with a grin despite the aching pain coursing through the lower half of your body.

"you gotta cool it with these plays, man, people are gonna think you're good at basketball or somethin'," she jokes.

you laugh, glad that she was able to lighten the mood despite your potential injury. for a moment it's just you two, the way it had been only in private and behind the scenes.

you were so caught up with each other that both of you failed to notice your respective teams looking over with sly faces and knowing smirks.

eventually, kate and gabbie had rushed to your side, each holding one of your hands to escort you back to the bench for inspection.

"where does it hurt, y/n?" the on-court physical trainer asks.

"my ankle," you start, "i think i sprained it."

"sit here, i'll get you some ice. try to roll it around, massage it out."

"wait," you say before she leaves, "is it okay if i just make the free throw real quick? i swear i can handle it, i'll come right back here when i get it."

"if it's okay with bluder, then sure. i'll be right back," she states before disappearing to the locker rooms.

meanwhile, at the uconn bench, aubrey was getting very intensely teased by her teammates.

"you know there's like thousands of people and a bunch of cameras in here right?" paige asks with a smirk, "thought y'all were keeping it private?"

"yeah, well i couldn't think of anything else in the moment so..." aubrey confesses, rubbing a hand down her face.

"you're so whipped, bro, it's insane," ice comments laughing, "like one second you were standing behind me, the next you're sprinting to the baseline like you runnin' a marathon or somethin'."

"yeah, for real, i literally felt a gust of wind on my face when she ran past me," kk adds.

"alright, y'all can shut up now," aubrey rolls her eyes, "actin' as if y'all not down bad for your partners either."

"just sayin'," paige shrugs, "you not gonna hear the end of this."

"from us and from the media," ice says, "even the damn iowa girls prolly won't forget this."

------

"question for y/n," a young female reporter starts in the back of the room starts, "in the fourth quarter, you got tangled up with paige bueckers from uconn, resulting in a mild injury. viewers couldn't help but notice that the first person to your aid wasn't any of your teammates, but aubrey griffin, uconn's senior guard. any comments on that?"

"yeah, uh paige was a dog for that one," you laugh, rubbing your hand over your jaw as you recall the interaction, "we're cool, though, it wasn't anything too serious. we laughed about it after the game, i don't know if y'all saw that but yeah, it's all good.

and aubrey...man, that's my girl. we've been close friends for awhile and all i really gotta say is that i appreciate her helpin' me out and all that. it definitely surprised me, if that's what you're asking. i didn't expect her to beeline to me like that," you chuckle as you feel blood rush to your cheeks at the thought of her shamelessness.

"yeah, i don't think any of us expected that," kate teasingly mumbles into her mic from beside you, making you and the crowd of interviewers laugh.

------

"griffin!"

"hey, l/n."

the brunette turns around with a smile at the sound of your voice. she was just walking out of the gym with her teammate, nika, but tells her to go ahead. the girl in question simply smirks at her knowingly before jogging up to the team's bus.

you shamelessly check aubrey out - she's full in her uconn nike tech set and her hair done up in her signature high bun. her team just lost the game but she was still glowing gorgeously.

she's carrying her custom uconn backpack with one strap on her shoulder, long fingers curled around the fabric. god, she just got out of a game - a loss even - and still managed to look so damn fine.

"how's the ankle?" she asks, pointing one finger to your foot.

"feelin' a little better," you shrug, "it's still a little hard to walk on but i'm toughin' it out."

"yeah?" she smiles, "i think i know how to make it feel a little better..."

without hesitation, the taller guard dips down to place a kiss on your lips that have been pulled into a sweet grin since the start of the conversation.

you pause, placing a hand on her chest as you survey your surroundings to ensure complete privacy.

"y/n, i really don't care right now," she groans as she notices your hesitation, "if you don't want me to kiss you i can just dip-"

you cut her off with a laugh, pulling her back into you and finally getting a taste of your girlfriend.

her free hand drifts down to the nape of your neck, her thumb tracing your jawline as she eagerly kisses you back.

"you're cute," you giggle against her lips.

"man, shut up," she chuckles, jokingly pushing you away before wrapping a strong arm around your shoulders and walking you to your bus.

— leilani signing off ! 📁

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haikyu-mp4 · 7 months ago

Text

Friend of a friend

word count; 2535 – gn!reader, suggestive at the end, manga spoilers

Back in high school, you went to Inarizaki and chose to be a manager for the volleyball club in your second and third years. It was incredibly fun and you might have cried when they won nationals in their last spring tournament before your class graduated.

Even after graduating and going your different ways, you stayed friends with Suna and the twins, as well as some of the other players. Unfortunately, you spoke much less frequently with the others.

Being friends with those three means gossip sessions, which is why you were lying on your bed with your computer open on a video call with the guys, updating each other on the latest gossip.

“How’s the new team, Rin?” Osamu asked, making Atsumu squint with a cocky smirk as he probably immediately started comparing it to his team. Suna shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s cool. That Komori guy is nice, I never really talked to him in high school,” he said, mentioning him because Atsumu had told you guys all about the players in the All-Japan group back in your second year. And of course, everyone knew about the best high school libero of the monster generation. You let out the tiniest gasp, covering your mouth when the twins started cackling while Suna looked confused. “What?”

“We never told you?” Osamu asked Suna in particular while you were making wild gestures for him to shut up. “Y/n has had the biggest crush on Komori since our second year at Inarizaki.”

Oh, the horror. Suna’s face lit up in a way it rarely did, suddenly armed with precious information to be used against you. “Are you serious?”

“It was a high school crush, get over it!” you yelled as if the blush on your cheeks was not giving you away.

“You were practically drooling.” Atsumu accused you and if you could punch him through the screen, you would.

“Miya, I swear to god-” but Atsumu knew you couldn’t reach him, so he smirked and kept that big mouth talking.

“When we were at nationals that year, the two of us went off to go watch Itachiyama.” he started, but you interrupted him.

“Because Tsumu wanted to stare at Sakusa,” you mumbled, already giving up on making him withhold any information.

“I was scoping out the competition! Anyways, one look at Komori was all it took before I was punched way too hard in my shoulder and forced to give up any information I had,” he explained, making it as dramatic as he could for Atsumu-purposes and clutching his upper arm as if he could still feel it.

“Reeeally?” Suna cooed. “From what I can tell, he’s single.”

Osamu had his mic off as he was in the kitchen making food, leaving you to the two worst ones. “This is why ‘Samu is my favourite,” you mumbled. He gave the camera a thumbs up and a wink, still leaving you to your own defences.

“Is he the one getting you a date with your lifelong crush?” Suna asked rhetorically, phone whipped out in the corner of his screen making your face go pale.

“No, but neither are you!” you yelled, hoping it was somewhat threatening, but it sounded more desperate. “And who said lifelong? I hate you.”

“Fine, suit yourself.” he finally said, but the way he was side-eyeing the screen while Atsumu smirked told you this was not over yet.

Fortunately, weeks went by without you hearing anything else about any supposed date. Komori did come up in conversation now and then, which you appreciated when it wasn’t just so they could tease you. You could feel the crush blossoming again every time Suna told you about their adventures in volleyball and it felt somewhat nostalgic.

Should you give in and ask Suna for his number?

This is what you were wondering as you walked through the city, barely dodging bikes that tried to run over you while you daydreamed. The better option is probably giving in, but you preferred admiring him from far (far) away rather than facing the possible rejection. You pushed the door to the cafe where you’re meeting Suna, before huffing as you realised it said pull. Good start to the day for sure. When you finally got inside, you were muttering under your breath as your friend’s laughter rang in your ears.

“Shut up!” you barked at him before sitting down. He already ordered two hot chocolates when you said you were on your way.

“What’s got you so scatterbrained?” he asked, leaning his arms on the table.

You glared at him over your hands, which you were leaning on. “How to secretly perform a lobotomy on my enemy while he’s sleeping,” you answered, but your ears still burned red knowing what was actually on your mind.

“So you weren’t thinking about a certain teammate of mine?” Suna asked, wiggling his eyebrows. However, he looked genuinely surprised when you just leaned back down on your hands, not denying it. “Wait, you were?”

“Why am I friends with you?” you whine, finally sitting up to sip your hot chocolate in hopes that it would fix all your problems.

Suna smirked, hearing the bell ring over the door of the cafe. “I can think of a few reasons,” he said quickly before lifting his hand in greeting, making you whip your head in the direction of the entrance. To your horror, there stood none other than Komori Motoya. “Motoya!”

The libero smiled kindly, making your heart skip a beat as he walked over to you two. “Sunarin! What’s up?” he asked.

“Just catching up with this lovely person,” he said, throwing you a devilish grin. Komori turned to you, bowing lightly to greet you as well.

“Right, Suna told me about you. Komori Motoya.”

“Hi,” you said, feeling shy as you told him your name as well. As if you didn’t already know his name. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Thankfully, he didn’t seem to think too much about how you said finally. “And you.” With that, Komori smiled and excused himself to order his coffee. This gave you some time to soundlessly curse at Suna, until you had to plaster a smile back on your face when he came back over, sitting down for a moment while waiting for his name to be called. “You were friends from high school, right?”

“Yes.” You glanced at Suna for help, words stuck in your throat. “I was a manager for the volleyball team.”

Komori made a sound of realisation like he finally put two and two together. “I thought I knew your face from somewhere!” he said, memories flooding back of the game in their last year of high school where they faced off against Inarizaki. “The pretty manager who got scolded by the referee for being too loud.”

You laughed at the memory, looking at Suna to see if he remembered as well and somehow managing to overlook that he called you pretty. “That’s the one,” Suna said, confirming that he did.

“You beat us in the semifinal,” Komori added. “Rin said you saw another one of our games at nationals once.”

“Not just once,” you chuckled before realising what you said and shutting up immediately. Both of the boys chuckled as well, one to ease your embarrassment and one to embarrass you more.

“Komori!” the barista yelled, relieving you at the perfect time. The man stood up and got his drink before coming back over but not sitting down. “I’ve got to go, but let’s meet again sometime, yeah?” he asked, directing the last half at you more than his teammate.

“Yeah,” you agreed, putting as much effort as you could into giving him your best smile. He bowed quickly before turning on his heel and leaving with a final goodbye.

Your eyes went straight to your friend, squinting. The second the cafe door closed, he burst out laughing, trying to not be loud and disturb others. “Not just once!” he mocked, making you bury your face in your hands. “You’re so hopeless at this.”

Let’s just say Suna told the twins how that went over your next video call, so now you’re watching them laugh at you as well, begging any existing god for it to stop and to just bury you already. After a few minutes, the laughing and teasing cooled off. “Well, now it’s my turn to step in,” Atsumu announced, and once again they got to watch the colour drain from your face.

“Step in? There will be no stepping in.” you stuttered.

“This Friday, I’m hosting a private party,” he said like a rich man from some movie. “And let’s just say you’ll enjoy the guest list, y/n.”

You bury your face into your mattress, pressing a pillow over your head. “Please, anyone. End my misery!”

But who are you to deny a good party? It’s just for fun, nothing interesting.

Nothing interesting at all- the thought drifted off into nothing as you watched Sakusa and Komori walk through the door. You chuckled to yourself at how Sakusa seemed to already turn around and try to escape when he saw there were more people there. From the corner of the room, where you previously chatted with Atsumu before he had to answer the door, you watched them. While calmly sipping your drink and leaning against the wall, you observed how sweet Komori acted, turning Sakusa back around and urging him to stay.

However, you should never let your guard down when you’re friends with a Miya. Next thing you knew, all the previously mentioned guys were looking where Atsumu pointed; right at you. In a fight or flight moment, your eyes widened and you escaped into the crowd before Komori could even see you properly. What a classy reaction!

The party went on and you danced with a couple of people you knew from here and there. It was a decent party, you had to admit Miya was good at hosting. Lucky you also crossed paths with a smirking Suna at the edge of the living room turned dance floor. “You truly are the image of grace,” he teased, and you glared in betrayal.

“Thank you,” you answered instead of arguing, moving along with the beat. Suna still seemed smug, and you felt a sense of deja vu when he lifted his hand and yelled ‘Motoya!’ over the loud music. “Have I told you that you’re the worst?” you asked in your sweetest voice before using some liquid courage to turn around to your undeniable crush with a drawn-out ‘heeey’.

“Hey, I was hoping I’d find you,” he responded, a hand caressing your upper arm because some people were pushing. “Where did Suna go?” he asked, glancing up once or twice before settling his gaze on you.

“I asked him to call on you, actually,” you lied, choosing fight instead of flight for once. After all, you had downed a cup or two of mixed alcohol since earlier.

“Really?” Komori smiled and you naturally copied it, albeit a bit more dazed. “Why?” he started moving with you to the music, his hand stroking down your arm and finding its place on your waist.

You didn’t answer him with anything more than a flirty smile and sheepish shrug, stepping closer to him and getting lost in the music while you dared to. If Suna was so insistent on him perceiving you, you didn’t want to seem like some loser with a childish crush.

Eventually, the song changed and you looked down into your now empty cup with a small pout. You left it on the closest surface and turned to Komori. “Should we go somewhere quieter?” you asked, pointing towards the stairs. When he agreed, you loosely grabbed his hand and pulled him up the stairs, looking around for a moment before realising the only good options were the bedroom or the balcony. “Bedroom or balcony?” you asked without thinking much about what it might seem like.

Did he look nervous? Komori was fiddling with his empty plastic cup and didn’t meet your eyes, biting his lip as he looked at the door to the bedroom. “Don’t you think it would be occupied?”

You shrugged and walked over to the door, pulling on the handle and swinging the door open only to find an empty albeit a bit messy room. Turning back to him, you knew your cheeks were burning. It’s just from the alcohol… “Coast is clear.” Komori followed you inside before closing the door behind you, hesitating for a moment before deciding not to lock it. What if that scared you off? What if he misunderstood? The two of you ended up facing each other in the middle of the floor, both thinking too much to make the first move. You weren’t sure if you pulled him upstairs for anything specific, you honestly just wanted to talk to him more now that you had the chance. And guts.

Komori accidentally dropped the empty cup he had been fiddling with and winced, seemingly spurring into action from that little movement alone. “You’re gorgeous.”

You looked at him wide eyed before the words just fell out of your mouth. “I have a huge crush on you.”

A breathy chuckle left his lips and it brushed over your face because he was so close, yet he was seemingly moving even closer by the second. “Sunarin told me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut for a second, cursing your best friend in your mind until you feel Komori’s hands land on your hips more confidently. “I hate him,” you informed him in a whisper. The little space between you felt like it wouldn’t fit anything louder.

“I don’t,” he answered with a small grin before he kissed you, making your arms automatically loop around his neck to pull him closer. You kissed him back with the lust of every wandering thought you had of him the last few years, and he kissed you back with the passion of someone who wasn’t used to being the crush with a cousin like Kiyoomi. When the back of your legs hit the bed, you lay back and pulled him with you, feeling one of his hands slide under your shirt, which you had no intention of stopping.

Suna wasn’t sure if he was happy or not with the sounds coming from Atsumu’s bedroom when he went looking for you. He was glad his plan worked out but he did not need the mental image that came with you moaning his teammate’s name. Is it possible to rinse your brain? Also, Atsumu would act so mad about you doing whatever in his bed before you ‘snuck’ out of the party hand in hand with Komori.

And Osamu would hear all about it in the morning when you came to get food wearing an EJP Raijin sweatshirt. He’d tell you having you there on your derailed walk of shame was bad for business, but still let you sit there and babble about how great Komori was, both in bed and after.

At least you were happy, and that made them happy too.

masterlist

#haikyu #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #hq x reader #fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #hq #haikyu fluff #komori motoya #komori x reader #inarizaki #inarizaki x reader

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hotvintagepoll · 7 months ago

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Propaganda

Cyd Charisse (The Bandwagon, Brigadoon, Singin’ in the Rain)—LEGS LEGS LEGS I would sell my soul for the legs of Cyd Charisse - she oozed style and glamour and sex appeal!! And she could DANCE! She was dancing next to the greats - Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire but they are never who you're looking at because why would you when you can look at her. I will only sit through too long ballet breaks for her. If there was any woman who you could call sex on legs it was her. These dances are everything to meeee (she comes in at the minute mark) and this dance too of course is iconic. In the words of Fred Astaire 'When you've danced with Cyd Charisse you stay danced with'

Rosaura Revueltas (Salt of the Earth)—She was a Mexican actress who is best known for starring in salt of the earth, an amazing pro-labor movie made by blacklisted filmmakers. She also starred in the Mexican remake of madchen in uniform, one of the first representations of lesbian romance onscreen. She was really dedicated to making progressive films and was also such an incredible actress and artist I truly believe more people should know about her and her work.

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Cyd Charisse:

Arguably the Best female dancer of her time, she supposedly insured her legs for $5 million dollars. Stole the show whenever she had a dance number, even if she went uncredited. Musicals started to go out of fashion so unfortunately she didn't have as many big roles as she should have, but those she did are unforgettable. The Broadway Melody number in Singin' in the Rain - the green dress!

Incredibly, Cyd Charisse only started learning to dance as a rehab exercise to strengthen her body after a childhood bout of polio. She was in high demand as a dance partner, Fred Astaire called her beautiful dynamite and said "When you've danced with her, you stayed danced with". She was one of a few leading ladies to dance with both Astaire and Kelly, declaring them both delicious. Kelly apparently was stronger, while Astaire was more coordinated. She also said her husband would always know who she had been dancing with because Kelly left her bruised, while Astaire didn't leave a mark. She's better known for her dance numbers today, but she was a leading lady in her time! Her Scottish accent in Brigadoon leaves a lot to be desired, but compared to the other actors in the movie, it's almost good. She appeared in The Harvey Girls alongside Judy Garland and Angela Lansbury in her first speaking role, but she really burst onto the scene with Singin' in the Rain and her infamous Broadway Melody Ballet number with Gene Kelly (no one could handle a length of fabric like Cyd Charisse). She was brought in because Debbie Reynolds wasn't really a dancer and Kelly was notoriously a stickler about his Vision. After that she starred opposite Astaire in The Band Wagon, which was a bit of a flop but created some enduringly incredible dance numbers. She went on to star in a number of MGM movies, and was one of the last of the Studio era stars to remain on contract. Since we've got up to 1970, I'm including her opening routine in The Silencers (1966) to show just how long she was making a splash - she's into her 40s here and still a siren:

youtube

and of course, the iconic Broadway Melody Ballet -

youtube

Photos do not do Cyd Charisse justice, unfortunately, because she is at her hottest while dancing, which she was exquisitely good at. Just go watch her first number in Singin' in the Rain, in that green dress; nothing I could say here will be more convincing that that.

She had amazing legs, and she knew how to use them! You probably know her best from the dream sequence in Singin' In The Rain. She was such a stunning dancer, and all her dance scenes are hard to look away from.

Dancing in the Dark clip:

youtube

She's an amazing dancer and my favorite from the period. Here's her and Fred Astaire in the Band Wagon:

youtube

I just like a woman who's there to be really incredibly good at dancing.

One of the most talented female dancers in Hollywood history, but what sets her apart from other competitors for that title is that she...umm...well let's be blunt, she was the dancer who put sex into it. The one who said "Hey, you know that A+ leg tone that naturally develops from doing this for a living? Why don't I let people see that? Like at every opportunity?" She reportedly insured her legs for five million dollars after hitting it big, which just goes to show that fame makes you crazy. It should have been ten million.

She could pirouette in pointes or tear it up in taps. Fred Astaire called her "beautiful dynamite" and wrote, "That Cyd! When you've danced with her you stay danced with." Gene Kelly partnered with her three times. Her legs were (reportedly) insured for $5 million in 1952 ($57.8 million in 2024 dollars)! Everyone in this poll will be iconic, but for raw physical grace, Cyd is up there with the best.

Legs for days, beautiful dancer in the most iconic scenes of Singin in the Rain. She's glorious. As some guys sung to her in It's Always fair weather, 'baby you knock me out!'

No additional propaganda was submitted for Rosaura Revueltas. Please send me some.

#Rosaura Revueltas #cyd charisse #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 3

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martinmuhl · 4 months ago

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⋆✧˚ ༘ prove it (part 3)

pair: paige bueckers x reader

warnings: none!

summary: notorious player paige wants to take the star volleyball player out on a date

authors note: hi guys, sorry it’s been a min. i’ve been in a writing slump so this prob isn’t very good :( it’s def not my best, but i hope you enjoy! love yall sm

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

the next week was the busiest week you’d had in a while. the national college volleyball tournament was next week and your coach was not messing around. if you weren’t in class, you were in the gym preparing. it was hard to focus on anything else when you were being worked so hard, but that didn’t mean you weren’t thinking about paige and her next surprise. it was 9pm on monday night and you were in bed about to pass out when you heard a knock at the door, feeling some nostalgia to when kk had surprised you everyday the week prior. sighing deeply, you got out of bed and opened your apartment door. peering down at you was the blonde you were just thinking about.

“well hello there, sleepyhead.” she jokes, a low laugh slipping out. you hadn’t even stopped to look at yourself before opening the door. your hair was probably a disaster and you were barely wearing any clothes, expecting it to be a teammate at the door.

“oh my god paige, really? you couldn’t have texted me first before showing up here?” you reached up to feel your hair and just how bad it was probably sticking out everywhere.

“i don’t have your number actually so… but i just wanted to ask you if you were free anytime this week? i know this is probably a pretty busy week for you, but i just need like a few hours of your time if that’s okay?” she smiles at you and despite how busy you are, you decide that you could probably spare a few hours for her.

“i guess i could probably spare a few hours of my time,” you giggle. “how’s wednesday? i have class and practice, but im done around 5ish. that okay?” she nods with a big goofy grin on her face.

“ill pick you up at 6 then, ma.” she says, bouncing on the heels of her feet. you nod, and she looks like she wants to say or do something else.

“did you have anything else you wanted to say?” you ask and a sheepish smile appears on her face.

“i just like you a lot and i really want to touch you,” she says, her face instantly turning red. “oh god, not like that. i just mean that i really want to hug you or something and i don’t know if-“ you cut her off, chuckling at her rambling.

“paige.” is all you say.

“yeah?”

“you can hug me.” as soon as she hears that, her arms engulf you in a hug. she squeezes tight, like she doesn’t want to let go. after she let go, she looked like she was going to say goodbye, but you had other ideas.

“did you want to come in?” you couldn’t help yourself. you knew that you couldn’t fully trust her yet, but it was paige bueckers. she’s the most beautiful girl you had ever seen and was already proving to you that she was worthy a date. why not invite her in?

paige rocked back and forth, contemplating. “i really want to, i hope you know that… but i feel like if i did it would seem like im going back to my old ways and im not at all.” she chewed her lip, peering down at you.

you nodded and felt disappointed, but also a bit of relief. you wanted so bad to believe her and honestly, this was a huge step for you toward that. you weren’t looking to have sex with her tonight, but the fact that she didn’t even want to chance it made your heart swell. eventually, paige said goodbye and you fell asleep that night thinking of her.

wednesday rolled around and paige picked you up for your surprise. she ended up driving you to a local park to watch the sunset and have a picnic. you felt like it was a date, which is what she was supposed to be working toward, but you didn’t want to take any of her excitement away so you let it slide. she was so proud of herself for setting it up all by herself. it was a great night, paige was everything you thought she wasn’t. she was kind and always complimenting you, but also seemed so interested in you and learning all there was about you. you were hesitant at first, but eventually opened up and told her about your family and other personal things to which she did the same.

after the surprise, she drove you home and hugged you goodnight. you had also gotten her number, finally. you were over the moon. paige was making you the happiest you’d been in a while. the next two days passed and you had decided. you didn’t need to wait the whole month, right? she had already proved so much to you. she had changed and she wanted you. just as you pulled your phone out to text her to come over, you received a message from your teammate, allison. your heart sunk.

allison: hey girl, just wanted to let you know that the team is at the bar right now and so is the wbb team. paige has been hanging with a brunette i’ve never seen before all night and they look really comfy… just wanted to tell you just in case you didn’t know :/

you: oh wow.. thanks for letting me know alli <3

allison: you should get your ass down here and confront her!! no one plays you! want me to beat her ass?

you: no no, it’s okay i’m on my way. you’re right, no one plays me.

#paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #wbb fic #uconn wbb fic

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judecole · 4 months ago

Text

caught on film. cp20

pairing: you x cole palmer

summery: you’re a famous retired footballers daughter and have been dating cole for a few months. the media hasn’t caught on to your relationship just yet but your appearance at the euros final in a certain players shirt causes quite the stir.

word count: 2114

authors note: idk

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.

You’re not exactly sure what you did in your past life to end up here, in this beautiful grand hotel in central Berlin. Despite your luxurious lifestyle, being born with a silver spoon in your mouth and having everything you ever wanted, you never took a single thing for granted. The hotel foyer is vast and grand, great marble columns dwarfing everyone in sight and traditional historic paintings in huge gold frames hanging on every wall. It’s beautiful. You stay in these kinds of hotels regularly but they never cease to amaze you. Your family PA is checking you and your family into the hotel as the several concierges begin collecting your luggage. You smile warmly at them and thank them before the manager greets you to show you to your suites. As soon as you enter your room you lay flat out on the bed, exhausted from your day travelling. You’d been flying back and forth from the UK to Germany for the last month. Any major footballing tournaments were a big deal in your family, you’ve been to pretty much every one since you were born. You can remember being a small child, wearing a shirt with your father’s name and number on the back and feeling so proud every time he stepped on the pitch. However now, things were a bit different. Your family were now invited as special guests and given all the best treatment, a private box in the stands where members of staff would meet your every need. You did truly feel blessed and very appreciative for everything your parents had done for you and your siblings.

You pull your phone out from your trouser pocket and check for any messages. Nothing. You bite your lip and open up iMessage and clicking on Cole’s name. You had been dating Cole for about six months. Things were going very well for the two of you, your parents loved him, especially your dad who was amazed by his talent on the pitch. You’d initially met him when he played at Manchester City after being invited to watch an U21’s match. You loved his laid back style and calm manor when he was playing. You smile as you remember the first time you spoke to him, all sweaty after the game. You’d gone down with your dad to congratulate the boys on their win and chatted with them. You swear you’d fallen for him right then and there, not being able to get his stupid grin out of your head. You begin typing a message to him when your younger sister walked into your room, plopping herself next to you on the bed. “You texting Cole?” She asks, a smirk on her face. She loved to wind you up about your relationship with the football player, often saying that the pair of you made her feel sick. You roll your eyes before replying, “Yeah, I’m gonna see what he’s doing after training.” You type out the message, “I know ur probably training rn but what are u doing tonight? I wanna see youuuu.’

You place your phone down on the bed and lay back, resting your head on the soft pillows. “Are you nervous about tomorrow? I hope Cole gets to play.” Your sister says, actually not being mean or sarcastic for once. “Yeah. I hope he does too.” You hear your phone ding. Picking it up, Cole’s name flashes on the screen. ‘Defo getting an early night but i can see you in the afternoon. Love ya.’ You smile at the words. You know how serious he takes his job, but he never fails to make time for you too. You text him back quickly and lay back again, smiling. “You’re so in love with him it’s gross.” Your sister playfully hits your arm causing you to slap her back.

A few hours later you’re getting ready to head to the England Squads hotel, a little trip planned by your father’s management team that conveniently lined up with your plans to meet Cole that afternoon. Your mum comes in to your room as you’re putting on some makeup and compliments your outfit, a simple pair of jeans and a top that was sent to you by a company that no doubt cost more than a night in the hotel itself. You smile and thank her, pulling her into a gentle side hug as she kisses your head. Your mum was definitely surprised when you told her about your relationship with Cole. Given your previous dating history he would never had been your type. But there was just something about him that instantly pulled you in, you still don’t know what it was to this day but you weren’t complaining.

Arriving at the squads hotel you check your hair and makeup in a compact mirror, brushing a few stray hairs into place with your nails. Your sister rolls her eyes, something that had now become the norm and makes a comment under her breath you can’t really hear. You get out the car and are greeted by some of the staff who lead you in through the hotels modern entrance. The hotel looked more like a spa than a hotel, every piece of furniture placed exactly, in a way to promote relaxation. You follow through the entrance into a board room, filled with players, staff and other prolific footballing legends and their families. You scan the crowd, looking for Cole. It doesn’t take you long as you see your dad pulling him in for a hug and patting him on the back, obviously congratulating him on reaching the finals. You grin as lock eyes with him, quickly wrapping your arms around him. He places a kiss to the top of your head, surprising you. He wasn’t the biggest fan of PDA, even the smallest things like holding hands made him panic. Maybe it was the fact you were one of the most famous people in the world which constantly occurred to him but never to you. You noticed some eyes laying on the pair of you which made you release him. You quickly returned to your professional manner and wished him good luck before finding your mum. She nudges you and gives you a cheeky smile when you reach her. “You two are silly. Why does it matter if anyone finds out?” She says. “It’s not that. I want to be public with him but not now. I want him to focus on football and I don’t want the media circus for him right now.” You say and give her a small smile. “Well that’s very thoughtful of you but make sure you’re public before Christmas because I’m not editing him out of the Instagram pictures.” She wraps an arm round you as you approach more people and chat about the final tomorrow.

Later that night after an expensive dinner in a posh restaurant near the squads hotel, you text Cole and tell him you want to see him before he goes to bed. He replies almost immediately and you ask your driver to wait outside the hotel and that you were just going to take a quick walk. You could see his tall figure on approach which made you speed up, not wanting to waste any more time not having his arms around you. “Hey.” He says softly when you reach him, extending his arms out and enveloping you in them. “Hey.” You almost whisper. “Wanna go for a walk?” You nod your head and begin walking hand in hand. It was dark now but the city of Berlin was still bustling, what with the warm weather. You walk past busy restaurants and bars packed with what you could only assume were England fans based on the noise. Cole squeezes your hand every so often, he can feel his palms become clammy when you look up at him. He still couldn’t believe his luck. After the first time he met you he couldn’t get you out of his mind. He was glad you made the first move though, otherwise you probably wouldn’t have been in this position now. Once you reach somewhere quieter Cole lets go of your hand and wraps his arm around your shoulder, pressing a kiss to your temple at the same time. “Are you nervous about tomorrow?” You ask him. You almost knew what he was about to say, “Not really. You know me.” He cracks a smile.

“I hope Southgate plays you, Cold Palmer.” You joke and poke his side playfully. “Me too. Hopefully I’ll get some time.” You end up sitting on a bench overlooking a river, the hustle and bustle far behind you now. “It’s really pretty here.” You mutter. “Not as pretty as you.” He winks as you roll your eyes. You continue talking for a while before Cole regretfully tells you it’s getting late and he probably needs to head back now. He places a quick peck on your lips and stands up, offering you a hand. “I’m so excited for tomorrow. Are you gonna score a goal for me Palmer?” You tease as you approach the hotel. He shakes his head at you and smiles. When you return to the hotel entrance he turns to face you, you look up at him and he swears his heart starts beating a hundred times faster. “I’ll see you after the game, okay? I love you.” He places a soft kiss on your lips making you blush. “Good luck babe. I love you too. You’re gonna smash it.” You wave him goodbye and open the door of the car, getting in and thank your driver for waiting.

You wake up the next morning with a nervous feeling in your tummy. It sticks around for pretty much the whole day. You feel especially nervous when getting dressed. You grabbed your England shirt that you’d hung carefully in the hotel wardrobe and put it on, turning around in the mirror to see the back. You’d always wanted to wear his shirt to a game. You snap a quick picture and keep it for later, maybe to post on Instagram. You knew the absolute carnage that would take place when you did. You arrive at the Olympiastadion Berlin in your families usual fashion, through the back in all blacked out vehicles with staff waiting for you at the other end. The nerves had well and truly kicked in now. You check your phone to see if Cole had texted you. You knew he wouldn’t be nervous, very sure in himself and the team’s quality but you wanted him to text you to ease your nerves. Your dad shook the hands of the staff that greeted you and you thanked them as they took you all up to your private box. You were sharing with a few other well known people, you eagerly greeted them with big smiles.

(We all know how the game went so we’ll just leave it at that.)

A devastating loss for England. You were gutted. But also immensely proud of Cole. He’d been subbed on in the seventieth minute and scored only three minutes later. The only goal for England that game. You headed down to the pitch once everything had calmed down and spotted Cole in the stands with his family. His eyes were glassy with tears as he spoke to his dad. You approach slowly and he notices you, standing up immediately and wrapping you in a tight hug. You could hear the snapping of cameras behind you but neither of you cared in that moment. “I’m sorry baby.” You spoke quietly as you pulled away, cupping one side of his face with your hand. “You were amazing.” He sniffled slightly, trying not to cry in front of you but failing miserably as he pulled you in again. You rubbed his back reached up to kiss his cheek. His dad walked towards the both of you and pats Cole on the back before sitting with Cole’s mum. “I can’t believe we lost.” He reaches up to dry his eyes as you pout and rub his arm. You turn around slightly hearing his sister call your name. “Love your shirt.” He smirks a bit, it clearly cheering him up. He wraps his arm around your shoulder as you begin chatting with his sister.

You’re on your way back to your hotel when your phone begins to blow up. Story after story about your relationship with Cole, using the picture they clearly got when you were consoling him after the game. You save the picture, setting it as your lockscreen and then posting the picture of you in his shirt from earlier to your Instagram story.

#cole palmer #england #england nt #football #cole palmer x reader #footballer x reader #chelsea fc #chelsea #jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #trent alexander arnold #premier league #euros 2024

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traveler-at-heart · 1 year ago

Text

Game, Set, Match

Summary: Natasha Romanoff is a professional tennis player, struggling to go back to the top and win the US Open. Reluctant at first, she allows a sports journalist into her life... and a bit more.

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R - Ya know it, fluffy af.

A/N: I love tennis and this was basically written for me. But @canvascoloredin is also a fan and thought, ok well, let's post it, maybe someone else will enjoy :)

“Thirty all”

She’s catching up, do something.

“Forty, thirty”

“Deuce”

“Come on, Natasha” her sister yells from the box.

Advantage, Romanoff.

Game, set, match. Natasha Romanoff.

Everything that happens after is a blur. Natasha feels like she just played the final, but in reality, it’s just the first round.

“Way to go, darling” her mother compliments when she’s back in the locker rooms, but Fury is quickly behind, not holding back.

“Three sets against an amateur and you won because she got nervous and got a double fault. That’s not good”

“I beat her, didn’t I?” Natasha averts her eyes, putting on her jacket to go to the press room.

“Barely” her trainer mumbles.

Natasha’s heart beats fast as she sits in front of all the journalists. They were warned about the questions they could ask, but still. Natasha feels all eyes on her, judging her reaction and demeanor.

“Did you worry about losing control at the start of the third set?” a man in the front row asks.

“It was the defining moment of the game, so I felt like I had to push myself harder and control the rhythm of the match. Which obviously happened”

“How was it to go back after your break? Unlike other players, you didn’t participate in any tournaments between Wimbledon and this”

“I’ve been playing tennis all my life, really, so it doesn’t feel like a big deal to me. Just because I wasn’t playing to win titles doesn’t mean I didn’t train”

Natasha hears Fury cough and has to resist the urge to roll her eyes.

Control your temper, he’s trying to say.

Well, maybe they shouldn’t ask stupid questions.

You’re sitting in the middle of the press room, eyes trained on Natasha. She’s looking anywhere but you.

I guess this means she read my column.

The conference is coming to an end, so you raise your hand and the assistant points at you.

“We have time for one more” he concedes.

“That’s enough for today” Natasha shuts it down before you can ask.

Yeah, she definitely read the article.

Natasha can’t wait to get out of there, thanking the press before sprinting out of the room. You consider following her, but a text from your boss stops you.

Go to LA Stadium, Wanda Maximoff just bageled some poor girl.

With a bit of luck, you’ll get an exclusive with Wanda.

The biggest crime of Shostakov

It was a Tuesday afternoon, well into the second week of Wimbledon, when the news broke out. Alexei Shostakov, retired tennis player, was arrested for fraud and tax evasion. While in custody, it was discovered Shostakov was in possession of drugs.

The famous Red Guardian, who once had won on that very same club, was now dragged away in a patrol car, stripped of his days of glory. For people who are well versed in the history of tennis, this doesn’t come as a complete shock. Shostakov was a notorious trouble maker, often breaking rackets, ripping his shirts open and getting expelled from a total of 15 matches during the entire run of his career.

No one seemed more affected by the news than his protegee and adoptive daughter, Natasha Romanoff. The favorite to win the world’s most important Grand Slam retired amid the breaking news. As a result, Wanda Maximoff’s path to the trophy was an easy one, taking the number 1 from Romanoff while she was at it.

If her career depends on Alexei’s ability to get back on his feet, Natasha Romanoff should retire now.

In her best form, Romanoff is stealthy, precise and absolutely lethal. Her movements reminisce those of a ballerina; one that gracefully dances across the court -doesn’t matter if it’s grass, clay or hard- to deliver blow after blow of brilliance. Natasha has raw talent, pure heart and an unbreakable spirit.

The biggest crime of Shostakov, is that he’s in the way of her greatness. Maybe it’s his ego or a compulsion to attach himself to a woman who has the capacity to break every record from the Open Era.

Whatever the reason, it’s clear she’s better off without him. For those of us who love this sport, and want Natasha to be the champion she was meant to be, this is an unique opportunity to watch her finally emerge from the shadows of the overbearing man.

The proverbial ball is in Romanoff’s court. In all her brilliance, the one thing Natasha rarely does is take risks.

It’s never too late to start.

“We’re finishing the second day of the US Open and we have some major upsets. Carol Danvers, number 3 in the world and only American in the top ten lost to Brit Peggy Carter” you say, holding the mic and looking at the camera.

“I understand there was some excitement on the man’s singles” you hear Maria say on your earpiece and you nod.

“Queens had a face off with Brooklyn today. Bucky Barnes defeated amateur Peter Parker, but get this! They played five sets, and Peter won every tiebreak. So it seems like we have some exciting new talent”

“We’ll keep an eye on him, for sure. Thanks for the report, Y/N!”

“A pleasure as usual, Maria. Greetings to everyone back on the studio”

“And cut” Darcy, your producer says. You remove the earpiece and hand over the mic. As you turn around, you spot Natasha training. It’s obvious you’re staring when Darcy speaks.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, you know? You wrote what a lot of people were thinking”

“Well, seems like she doesn’t wanna hear it”

“It’s fine. I mean, it would be better if we could get a quote from her or an interview but if she hates you that much we can get someone else to do it”

“Or, I could go and try to talk to her?”

“So you have a death wish!”

“Didn’t you just say I did nothing wrong?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean she’ll listen. I am also legally obligated to tell you that your health insurance doesn’t cover injuries caused by tennis balls. Or rackets”

“Very funny”

“Relax your wrist” Fury instructs once again and Natasha ignores him, as usual.

She hates the press, the interviews, the hoops she has to jump through just so she can play tennis.

None of it is optional and she has to follow the rules, something Natasha is particularly bad at.

“If you want to move to the next round you’re gonna have to listen to me”

Does she really want to move to the next round? Is there a point to all of this? She had lost her number one ranking and people were focusing more on her private life than her career.

Fury spots you across the court and smiles.

You nod your head towards the man and he sighs, defeated.

“Can you talk some sense into her?”

“Can anyone?” you say and he pats you on the back, leaving the court. The sun is setting and people are going home, ready to return tomorrow to watch the next round of players. You greet Natasha but she ignores you.

“You owe me a question” you try to joke, as she keeps hitting the ball so hard you think her racket will break in half.

“I know who you are and I’m not talking to you”

She looks hot when she’s pissed.

You push those thoughts away.

“Natasha”

“No, you and I are not on a first name basis. Not after you wrote all that crap about me without knowing me”

“I only spoke the truth”

“That my career is doomed and I should retire?” she finally stops throwing balls across the court and turns to look at you.

“Oh, my God! You didn’t even read it, did you?”

“I don’t need to. I know what everyone's been saying ever since Alexei was arrested. I know he was unconventional, but he was my trainer. He was beside me through the good and bad”

“I get it, ok? He’s your family. And your trainer. That’s never easy and I understand how it can be hard to see things objectively. But, Natasha, you are great in spite of him, not because of him”

That makes her pause.

“Nick Fury came out of retirement to train you. That’s how talented you are!”

The redhead serves a couple of times, staying completely silent.

“I’m not talking to you” she reminds you.

“You’re the best player out there, Natasha. And right now you’re the only thing getting in the way of your success”

Morning comes and so does the next match. Natasha is looking out the window of the suite, as people come and go around the busy streets of the tennis center.

Fury steps in, immediately aware of her nervous energy. If he asks if she’s ready, she’ll probably rip his head off. So, talking about something different might be the way to go.

“Her father was also a sports journalist,” he says, pouring himself a glass of orange juice.

“Who?”

“Y/N. Richard was a single parent, so he’d always bring her to the games, even as a baby. She behaved better than most people too”

“Is he retired?”

“Nope. Cancer. Four years ago” Fury sits in front of Natasha. “Didn’t expect her to follow his steps, but that girl really knows sports. She’s working with the local station, and also writes for Sports Illustrated”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Never hurts to have a couple of friends around,” he says, sipping from his glass.

“I’m not good at making friends” Natasha looks away.

“Yeah, I know. You’re good at tennis, so…” the man checks his watch and stands up. “Let’s kick some ass”

Natasha has to face Kate Bishop, currently ranked 24. Her game is the opposite of aggressive, but she’s famous for her impeccable aim. Natasha has to control the game from the start if she wants to win.

She serves first, and as she bounces the ball, preparing her stance, Fury’s words echo in her head. All the advice he has given her for the past months, advice that she has consistently ignored.

Then, as she throws the ball, her eyes meet yours. You’re sitting in the front row, leaning forward.

In a split second, she makes a decision.

Natasha is ready to take risks.

She aims for the corner of the service box, hoping it will fall inside. Kate lunges forward, shocked at the speed of the ball.

“Ace” the umpire announces. “Fifteen love”

Natasha sees you clapping and can hear Fury shouting “That’s it, you can do this, Romanoff”

And boy, does she deliver. Kate is running across the court. Natasha’s unforced errors are incredibly low. While the crowd usually loves long games, the redhead is a legend and they’re excited to see her prowess first hand.

The game ends in 47 minutes, 6-3, 6-2.

Kate approaches the net and shakes Natasha’s hand.

“That was… incredible, Romanoff”

“Thank you, Kate”

The kind words and the genuine admiration make Natasha relax instantly.

Of course, the crowd goes wild as the redhead lifts her arms, clapping and waving.

She’s in such a good mood that she decides she’ll finally take your question. But as she enters the press room, you’re nowhere to be found.

Still, she chats and even jokes around with the journalists present.

Once again, the entire family celebrates as if Natasha had already won the Grand Slam.

“Seestra, the crowd was going craaaazy, it was like a Taylor Swift concert” Yelena tells her excitedly as they eat. Natasha’s starving, so nervous about today that she didn’t even have breakfast.

They keep chatting, talking about strategy for the next game and wondering who will go against Natasha next.

“Natalia, your father wants to talk to you” Melina interrupts, holding her phone.

“Why?” Natasha snaps, going back to her stoic self.

“He wants to congratulate you,” the woman insists.

“I’m not in the mood. Excuse me” she stands up, losing her appetite.

Out on the terrace, she watches people passing by, trying to think of anything else but Alexei.

Your words come back to her, and she starts to believe them.

You are great in spite of him.

“Hey, there you are!” you shout from the bottom of the stairs, waving. “Do you have a sec?”

Natasha nods, going down.

“First of all, wow. Brava”

“You wanted something?” she rolls her eyes, but you notice she blushes lightly.

It’s quite the view, Natasha’s body covered in sweat from the physical exertion, her sculpted arms in full display.

That tennis outfit looks really good on her.

“Oh.. yeah. Do you, uh, have time to meet a fan? She’s a little girl and you’re her favorite player”

“Of course”

“Awesome, come with me!” you take her by the hand.

Natasha tries to ignore the tingling feeling she gets as she’s dragged around the center. Some people recognise her, but you’re walking fast and they don’t have the chance to stop her for a picture.

“Hey, Ava!” you greet the little girl, who’s holding a big tennis ball and a black marker. “Natasha, meet Ava. She’s your number one fan”

“Hi,” the girl says shyly. She’s about nine, her mother standing next to her and smiling.

“Hi, Ava. It’s so nice to meet you” Natasha greets. “How are you liking the tournament so far?”

“Uh, it was great, and you were so awesome today!”

“Thank you, I really appreciate it. Would you like me to sign that?”

“Yes, please!” her arms shoot forward, anxiously.

“What other players would you like to meet?” Natasha says, as she signs the ball.

“Maybe Peter Parker… We met Carol Danvers, Bucky Barnes and also, Wanda”

Yeah, Natasha didn’t miss the way Maximoff signed the ball.

From the number 1 player to the number 1 fan.

So pretentious.

“That’s nice,” Natasha says, handing the ball back.

“Alright, let’s take a picture” you pull out your phone. Natasha kneels to be closer to Ava, and then places her tennis hat on the girl’s head.

“You can have it” Natasha smiles and is surprised when she gets a very enthusiastic hug. Her mother has to practically drag her away from where you’re standing, Ava turning around every couple of steps to wave at Natasha.

“Thank you, Nat,” you say, smiling.

“It’s not a problem. I didn’t see you in today’s press conference”

“That’s because it’s my day off” you say, surprised that she noticed your absence.

“What about that thing?” she points at the badge hanging from your neck that reads Press.

“That’s how I get in for free, duh”

“Sneaky”

“I can be” you shrug your shoulders and then turn back to your phone. “Hey, so can I send this to your PR team for them to post it?”

“You don’t have to”

“Fine, I’ll post it on my feed and tag you. Alright, gotta go. Have to cheer for Bucky” you say, taking her hand one last time. “Once again, thank you. And congrats. You were fantastic”

“I owe you a question” she calls when you’re walking away.

“I’m saving it for when you win the championship” you wink and she smiles, scratching the side of her neck nervously.

Later that day, her phone is blasting with notifications.

“Almost one million likes, Natasha” Yelena shows her the picture you uploaded of her and Ava.

“Is that good or bad?” the redhead shrugs her shoulders and her sister rolls her eyes.

“You’re so uncool!”

However, she knows enough about Instagram to find your profile, going through your feed. Most of the pictures are from different games, some hangout with friends, the most frequent ones being Barnes and a pro that plays for the Yankees, Sam Wilson.

She’s about to close the app when two things that are equally horrible happen.

First, she likes one of your pictures from two years ago.

Second, she gets a message.

OfficialWandaMaximoff: Congrats on your win today <3

Bucky just lost the second set and is down on the third one. You keep refreshing the feed as you wait next to other journalists for Wanda Maximoff.

Of course she’s in the quarter finals, that’s hardly a shock. Everyone’s waiting for her to face Natasha in the finals. When it happens, you’re obviously rooting for Nat.

Speaking of which…

@SportsBrooklyn: Good luck tomorrow!

@NatashaROfficial followed you back

@NatashaROfficial: Do you only use Instagram or can you text like a normal person?

@SportsBrooklyn: Oh, right, text you to the number I don’t have!

Wanda walks in that moment and you lock your phone. Her auburn hair is tied in a high ponytail, and she changed to her signature red windbreaker and black pants.

You’re busy taking notes when your phone pings again. To your surprise, Natasha actually gave you her phone number.

@NatashaROfficial: If you share it with anyone else I’ll choke you

@SportsBrooklyn: Kinky ;)

The press conference ends and you practically sprint out to see if you can catch the rest of Bucky’s game.

You have to settle for the screens on the Champions Bar, comforted by the fact that Bucky seems to be ahead on the third set. As soon as he wins it, you stand up, knowing the break is the perfect time to slip into the player’s box.

“I’m so sorry” you say as you crash into none other than Wanda Maximoff. She grabs your arm to steady herself, smiling to ease you.

“That’s alright. You’re in a hurry?” she says, turning at the screen.

“A bit, yeah”

“I wish someone as cute as you was rooting for me” she smiles, placing a strand of hair behind her ear. She’s flirting? Oh boy. “I noticed you looking at your phone during the press conference. Barnes is a lucky guy”

“Oh, we’re not…”

“Here I was thinking he was smarter than that”

There’s a sense of urgency to go before the break is over, but you’re also completely confused. Why is Wanda Maximoff taking an interest in a local reporter? You’re vaguely aware that her eyes drift somewhere behind you from time to time, but before you can turn and have a look, she pulls your press badge and smiles.

“If you ever want an exclusive, just let me know, Y/N…” she reads the name from your press badge and walks away, leaving you completely confused.

Natasha watches the entire interaction from her small table. She needed a break so she decided to put on a hat and glasses, to get a drink without being recognised.

Wanda was all over you, giggling and looking Natasha’s way as much as she could, to let her know this was entirely to upset her.

All Natasha wanted to do was stand up and take you away from Wanda. You were too good for someone like Maximoff.

Wanda thought she was making Natasha jealous.

She was right, but not in the way she would have wanted to.

“Maybe it’s time I retire”

“You’re 28”

“Might as well be 100 in tennis years”

“Buck” you nudge him.

You’re looking out the Brooklyn Bridge, trying to cheer up your best friend after losing in the round of 16.

“You won the Australian Open this year”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. See? I’m senile” he mumbles, still grumpy.

“You did great, and you’re still in the top five, Grumpa. Ha! See what I did there?” he rolls his eyes and you smile, pulling him back to the street. “Come on, Sam is waiting for us to have some lunch”

“Ok, but it’s on you because I’ll be broke once I retire”

“Yeah, yeah” you roll your eyes, looping your arms together and dragging him to your favorite dinner. Sam’s already there, chatting around with everyone that recognises him.

All eyes turn to you as he stands up and practically shouts.

“How’s my favorite girl?” Sam greets you and then slaps Bucky’s shoulder. “Don’t make that face, man. You won the aussie one”

“That’s what I told him”

Bucky takes his jacket off and orders a beer as soon as the waiter approaches you; even if it’s only noon, you let it slide.

You get a text from Darcy, asking if you’re watching the game.

Your mind instantly goes to Natasha. Did she lose? No, that can’t be. She was playing against Van Dyne, who was only there because of a wild card. You turn to one of the screens and ask the waiter to change the channel.

“She’s winning” you say, still not understanding what Darcy meant.

“Why does she look so upset, then?” Sam points out.

Natasha is arguing with the umpire. You recognise him immediately.

“I hate that guy,” Bucky says, echoing your thoughts.

“Jarvis… something. Stone?”

“Yeah, a total asshole. Wouldn’t give me a point I clearly won on Wimbledon because the other player was also a Brit”

The argument ends and she keeps playing. Her forehand is killer today.

“Wow” Bucky says at the same time as you gasp.

“Man, I feel so dumb right now” Sam is looking between both of you, not knowing what caused your reaction.

“Just now? It’s more like, always” Bucky teases and Sam glares. He rolls his eyes and points at the screen. “Van Dyne hit after a double bounce. That’s not allowed. But Stone clearly doesn’t give a shit. He’s giving her the point”

“Natasha stopped playing because she saw it. He claims he didn’t so in his mind, she lost this one” you keep explaining.

“If Hope had a little bit of integrity, she’d concede the point or play it again”

“Well, she’s losing so she’ll take all the help she can get” you say.

Natasha’s rage fuels her after this and she ends up winning, the second set a devastating 6-0.

However, the two men on the screen are being unsurprisingly critical of her. Your stomach turns when you hear the words “emotional” and “aggressive” thrown around.

Even if it’s a long shot, you try calling her. Phone’s off.

If you’re lucky, you’ll manage to see her once you get back to the stadium.

“Turn it off,” Natasha grumbles. Fury is watching the news in the living room.

“I wanna see the highlights of other players. Prepare for what’s coming next. If you don’t like it, leave the room” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand.

After the game, Natasha did the mandatory press conference, went back to the lockers, destroyed two rackets, took a shower and then looked out the window for the better part of the day.

She wasn’t in the mood to do anything and she didn’t want to turn on her phone. The temptation to read what the press and public had to say about her after today’s argument with the umpire was too big.

“Y/N, how are things at the US Open?” Maria Hill says. The screen splits, your image appearing on the right side.

“Exciting names on both sides for the semis. We have Thor against Banner, and T'Challa faces Namor for a spot in the semis. As for the ladies, Maximoff breezed through the match against Jean Gray”

“Well, I understand Romanoff didn’t have it so easy,” Maria says.

From her seat, Natasha holds her breath. Yelena walks in at that exact moment, watching her sister closely.

“You know, I find it unbelievable that an umpire at the US Open could make such a poor call, not once but twice. First, with the hindrance call against Natasha and then by completely ignoring the double bounce before Van Dyne hit the ball” you say, clearly upset. “We’ve seen time and time again that some umpires are not up to the standards set by Grand Slams. And to my fellow journalists who like to throw around words like emotional, better save that energy for the men that smash their rackets just because they lost a point. As we all saw, Romanoff was in her right to demand fairness and she did it with the utmost respect”

“Yes, I completely agree with you” Maria nods, clearly regretting even asking about it. “Well, let us chat tomorrow after we have the final for the men”

“Of course, Maria,” you nod.

Natasha tries really hard, but she can’t help but smile at your words.

Yelena arches her eyebrows.

Well, this is interesting.

Natasha refuses to leave her room, arguing she’s not hungry. Melina, Yelena and Fury leave her alone, but the sudden silence becomes too much. There’s no noise to stop her thoughts from spiraling.

With a sigh, she turns on her phone. Two messages come through.

Y/N: Sorry about today. That umpire sucks :(

Y/N: Bucky hates him too

Next thing she sees is a picture of Bucky and you holding your middle fingers to the screen with Jarvis’ face. Natasha chuckles at that.

She also zooms in, checking that your other hand is very close to Bucky’s. She feels a pang of jealousy that is interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Room service” a strange voice says.

“I didn’t order any..:” she says, but finds you smiling on the other side of the door.

“Gotcha”

“What are you doing here?” the redhead can’t help but smile. You’re wearing a black leather jacket, a white tee and skin tight jeans. She’s torn between admiring your figure and paying attention to what you say next.

“Little bird told me you were very upset and you might need a distraction”

“I’m gonna kill Fury”

“Not Nick. Your sister. And are we gonna find something to eat by standing here or…?”

“I’m not hungry”

“We’re going, Natasha. Go get changed” you push past her, tired of waiting around in the hallway. She’s taken aback by your forwardness. Her mother and sister would usually let her get away with anything.

“Where are we going?” she asks, hoping you won’t go all the way to her room and pick an outfit for her.

“Something casual will do”

She changes as fast as she can, taking her phone and some money with her. You nod approvingly and then open the door, peeking around the hallway.

“This little field trip is not Fury approved so let’s be discreet about it” you inform her, taking her hand to lead the way to the elevator.

“Oh, yeah, this is super discreet” Natasha complains as you lead her to an electrical carriage.

“Have a little fun, why don’t you?” you climb up, offering your hand. She takes and sits next to you. Natasha resists the urge to put a strand of hair behind your ear as you lean forward to give the address.

You feel her eyes on you, so you turn back, smiling and blushing lightly.

It’s a short ride, and soon after you enter a small diner.

“Hey, Y/N” the owner greets you. “My, this must be a special occasion” she leans towards Natasha and whispers. “She’s never brought a girl over”

“Ok, Pat! Natasha is just a friend” you clarify, blushing in the process. Natasha laughs at you.

“Why? She’s pretty. You need to start dating” Pat says, leaving two menus.

“Don’t bother” you stop Natasha as she starts reading it. “She’ll bring us whatever she wants. But it will be worth it, I promise”

“Do you come here often?”

“My dad couldn’t cook if his life depended on it. But he was always good at finding the best spots to eat. So we came here all the time during the US Open and then later when Bucky started training”

Natasha nods and looks away.

“So, you’re not dating Barnes either?” she says, looking anywhere but you. It’s embarrassing how much she cares.

“Uh.. no. He’s like a brother to me. His parents worked a lot so he’d tag along to games with us, and we grew up together” you wait until she turns to look at you. “Can I ask now?”

“Is this off the record?”

“Do you see my press badge anywhere?”

“One never knows with you people”

“Ouch, Natasha” the redhead laughs but you ask anyway. “Are you dating anyone? You’ve never been public about it”

“I’m not, no. I just don’t think I’d be able to find the balance. Between tennis and a partner. And my public and private life”

“Fair enough” you say. Pat approaches with milkshakes, cheeseburgers and fries.

“I hope you girls are hungry”

“Starving”

“Fury’s gonna kill me” Natasha sighs, but then dips a fry in the milkshake and practically moans at the taste.

Your mouth is hanging wide open, and your teeth clash at how fast you shut it when Natasha turns to you.

“You’re right, this is worth it”

The rest of the night is spent eating and talking about everything but tennis. You learn that Natasha likes to bake in her free time, and that Yelena is taking a sabbatical before moving to New York to study at NYU.

After finishing your food, you both agree that walking back will be the best idea.

“I’m so full” you complain as you enter through the back, too scared to be caught by Fury. Natasha walks in the opposite direction of the foyer. “Uh, what are you doing? I don’t want your coach all over my ass if you’re missing”

“Have a little fun, why don’t you?” she echoes your words from before and you have no choice but to follow her. You end up on a tennis court, balls scattered around the floor.

“Do you practice here?”

“If I can’t sleep” Natasha picks up a ball and a racket and hands it to you.

“Can I help you?”

“Play with me”

“I can’t even serve, Natasha”

“Well, would you like to learn?” she says with a smirk and you can’t resist it.

“Fine. But after that, you go back to your room”

“Stance first” Natasha instructs. She corrects your posture and movements a couple of times, inching closer until she’s whispering instructions in your ear. The last thing she does is put her hands over yours to make sure your grip is tight. “Show me what you got”

She steps away and you miss her presence instantly. Trying to remember everything she told you, you toss the ball in the air and swing a little too hard. You trip over your own feet, but Natasha moves forward and catches you before you fall.

“You ok?” she says and you nod.

“How did I do, coach?” you steady yourself, holding her close to you. Your eyes travel to her lips, and you’re both out of breath from laughing.

Neither one can tell who leans first, but the fact is that you do and you discover, with great pleasure and no surprise, that Natasha is an excellent kisser. Her lips are soft against yours and she pulls you closer by your waist.

“Is this a new way of interviewing people, Y/L/N?”

Oh, shit.

You break apart and turn to Fury, who looks very much not impressed.

“The only cardio you’re allowed to do until this slam is over is at the gym, Romanoff. Back to your room, now”

“I’m not a little girl you can boss around,” Natasha protests.

“Come on, you should rest. We’ll talk later” you don’t want her to start arguing with Fury, not now that she’s finally listening to him. Natasha turns to you and nods, squeezing your hand one last time before going back to the hotel.

“I don’t want her distracted,” Fury says and you nod.

“I wasn’t trying to… I won’t get in her way, Nick. I want her to win”

“Glad we understand each other. Now go home”

He turns to leave and you wait for a little bit, trying to calm down after a mindblowing kiss. As you’re about to leave, you spot a yellow bracelet on the ground. You’ve seen Natasha wearing one before, but you’re too scared of Fury to go back now.

Tomorrow will be a new day for all of you.

“Keep your leg behind the ball” Fury instructs. Natasha has been listening to every single thing he says.

Yes, she’s nervous about the semis. And Fury’s the only one that can understand the feeling or help her play better.

“I want you focused,” he says as she walks to dry her hands.

“I am”

“You know what I mean” he says and as if on cue, you walk up to the court, waving. Natasha places the racket down and approaches you. “Practice isn’t over, Romanoff!”

“Five minutes” she asks, meeting you on the edge of the court.

“Hi”

“Hi” she says back. Her eyes go down to your lips and your heart flutters.

“Uh, you left… I think this is yours” you remember to speak, showing the yellow bracelet.

“Yes, thank you. Do you mind?” Natasha extends her hand and you put it around her wrist. “Yelena gave it to me before my first match. It’s my lucky charm”

“Well, good thing I saw it”

“Maybe you’ll be my next lucky charm”

“Oh? Am I supposed to be at every game from now on?” you smile, nodding when you’re done with the bracelet.

“I really wanna kiss you” Natasha blurts out and you blush. “But…”

“There are people watching and Fury doesn’t look happy either”

“He never does. Can I call you later?”

“Yes, you definitely can”

You want to kiss her so bad, damn it.

“Come on, go back, before Fury kicks me out of the court”

Natasha nods, squeezing your hand gently.

The way Natasha looks at you makes you all kinds of flustered, so you leave in a hurry before your desire takes over and you end up kissing her in front of all these people.

Once again, you run into Wanda Maximoff, only this time she doesn’t smile at all.

“She’s quite the player, right?” she says with a cold voice, her accent a bit thicker.

“Uh- yes. Natasha is a very talented pro”

“Oh, that’s not what I meant” she takes a step forward and looks you up and down. “Natasha likes to fuck around. But she always comes back to me”

“You’re… together?” your heart drops. Natasha wouldn’t lie to you about this.

Would she?

“Look, of course she wants to get distracted and she’ll use anyone that is dumb enough to fall for it. But don’t forget, she and I have history. And that’s stronger than whatever it is you think you have with Natasha”

No one is around to save you from this horrible conversation. You don’t want to argue with Wanda, because you’re still a journalist and it’s your job to be on the players’ good side.

But the reckless part of you wants to tell her to fuck off.

You sigh and look down. Wanda takes this as a sign of defeat and smiles, leaving you standing there.

It takes a minute for you to snap out of it, and you look around, desperate to walk away from everything that just happened.

—

“You’re seriously telling me you know nothing?” you ask Bucky for the tenth time.

“I don’t pay attention to rumors” he shrugs his shoulders, and you roll your eyes at him.

He’s sitting on your couch, the movie long forgotten. You nudge him with your foot and glare.

“Your best friend is a journalist, you should know better. You’re my insider into this crap”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m just not on the loop of who dates who on the women’s side. But I am not surprised Wanda scared you. Heard she can be batshit crazy”

“She didn’t scare me” you mumble. The both of you sit in silence for a while, until your phones ping simultaneuosly.

Thankfully, it’s not Nat. Right now, you don’t even know what to say to her.

“Sam. Probably to brag about his date in that fancy restaurant” Bucky tells you, but his eyes widen as he reads the message. “Wow. You need to look at this”

He hands you the phone and you read the conversation. It’s your group chat and Sam just sent a picture of Jarvis Stone, who is having dinner with none other than Wanda Maximoff.

“What the actual fu…”

“So that’s why he was being a dick to Natasha” Bucky says. “You’re not telling her about this, are you?”

“No, of course not. She has the semis tomorrow and I don’t want to distract her”

You look at your phone and press send before you chicken out.

Y/N: Can we talk tomorrow?

YBelova: Sure

—

You’re waiting by the entrance to Arthur Ashe, looking around. Even if Maximoff’s match is later, you are still dreading to spot Wanda.

“Hey” Yelena says and you jump like a coward. “Wow, relax, it’s me”

“I’m sorry to be meeting you like this. I didn’t want to bother Natasha, especially today… she has enough on her plate”

“It’s ok, you can trust me”

“I know I can… it’s not easy to ask this, but do you know if Wanda and Natasha had a… thing? Like a relationship”

“Are you asking as a journalist?” the blonde says, clearly on edge.

“No, it’s not like that! Natasha and I… we kissed. And then Wanda told me yesterday that Natasha is just fooling around because she always comes back to her… and that’s weird but then a friend sent me this. It’s from last night”

“That’s the umpire that was a jerk to Tasha” Yelena takes your phone, looking at it in desbelief. “That bitch is still pulling this shit”

“If it had been only about us, I would have waited until Natasha finished her match. But it seems to me, like Wanda is trying to play dirty here”

Yelena sighs and hands the phone back. She looks around and steps closer, lowering her voice.

“Yes, they dated. Kept it a secret. It was on and off, especially when they were playing against each other. Wanda didn’t like to lose and then, after a while, she began to mess around with Nat. She would have a fight with her before a big match, even if they weren’t playing each other. Made Natasha lose her cool and struggle. They really haven’t spoken since the AO”

“What do we do? I don’t want her to mess with Natasha. I won’t let Wanda get in her way”

“I’ll speak to Fury about this. He knows everything. I’ll let you know what he says”

“Didn’t know you two were friends now”

A voice calls from behind you.

“Seestra, hey!” Yelena steps forward to give you time to recover. “Y/N was just telling me about her time at NYU”

“Is that so?” the redhead looks between you two and you nod.

She stills makes you nervous and flustered.

“Alright, my presence is no longer required” Yelena complains, but still gives you a meaningful look as she walks away.

“I have to warm up, will you stay for the game?” she asks, stepping closer.

“Yes, of course I will. I’ll be screaming your name” you blurt out and then blush. “I mean, rooting for you. Didn’t mean it to sound like that”

“Sounds good to me” she says, coming closer. “Can I have a good luck kiss?”

You look at her smile, her beautiful green eyes. Think about all the times she’s been kind and funny and brave. And you also think about how someone played with her heart just for a stupid title.

So you nod and lean forward, kissing her gently.

Natasha deserves to win, not only because she’s the better player. She’s the better person.

“Go win this thing” you say against her lips and she smiles, pecking your lips one last time.

—

Natasha’s win is not a surprise to you, considering the level of her recent games. You still have to stick around for the Maximoff match, opting to stay far away from the press room once she wins.

So, it’s down to the two of them in the final.

You’ve never wished for Natasha to win something so much until today.

Work keeps you busy enough. Both of the men’s semis take a combined time of eight hours and you end up completely exhausted, seriously considering just sleeping in one of the locker rooms.

You haven’t heard from Natasha but it’s understandable. She’s playing for the championship tomorrow, and knowing Fury, he will be preparing her in every way possible.

As you get a cup of coffee from one of the last stands open, your phone pings again.

Natasha: Are you still here?

Y/N: Yes :(

Natasha: Meet me in court 17?

Y/N: Yes :)

When you finally get there, you find Natasha serving a couple of times, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

“Is Fury ok with you staying up so late?”

“I did everything he said today. I think I deserve this one thing” she smiles, walking towards you. “You look a bit tired”

“Jeez, thanks”

“I didn’t mean it like that. Ugh, Yelena is right, I have no game off court”

You laugh at that, taking her hands in yours.

“It’s fine, I was just teasing you” you say, looking as her eyes drift towards your lips. You both lean forward, sharing a kiss.

“Thank you” Natasha says.

“Uh, you’re welcome?”

“I don’t mean the kiss, no. Thank you for telling Yelena that thing about… Wanda”

“Oh”

Natasha walks with you to one of the chairs and you sit together.

“I haven’t spoken to her in months. And I don’t want to be with her. I need you to know that”

“But still… you said you’re not sure you want a relationship, right? It would be too much trouble”

“I think it might be worth the effort for you” she confesses and you smile.

“You do have game”

“I do?”

“Tiny bit. We’ll work on it”

She laughs, and you sit in silence for a moment.

“I made my debut in this court”

“I know”

“How…?”

You sigh. Since you’re sharing stories…

“After my dad died, I kinda took distance from the things we did together. That included all kinds of sports. It was a painful reminder. And then, as the USO was starting, I realised he had already bought our tickets. So I came here, walked around a bit. And then I saw you”

Natasha smiles, squeezing your hand.

“Your hair was shorter, and you were wearing a weird orange top with green shorts” you frown as you remember how awful it looked.

“My mom chose it for me!” the redhead buries her face in her hands and you laugh. You take them in yours as you continue the story.

“You were amazing that day. Controlled, precise… I forgot for a little while about how sad I was. And after you won, I came back everyday to watch you play”

“Thank you for telling me that. I wish I could have known your father”

“I would have liked that too”

There’s silence as you both think about your own journies, the things that brought you to this moment.

“Come on, we should go. You need your rest” you stand up, offering your hand to Natasha. She thinks for a moment before taking it, but instead of standing up she pulls you down until you’re sitting on her lap, your legs around her.

“Nat?” you gulp, blushing at how close you are.

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop” she whispers, kissing your neck and squeezing your ass.

“Holy shit, no, don’t stop” you plead, tangling your fingers in her red hair.

“Locker room?”

“Lead the way” you kiss her frantically, hoping no one sees you.

Once you arrive there, Natasha smiles and your heart stops for a second.

“Ready to scream my name?”

—

There’s warmth. And a nice pressure. Some tingling on your back. Like a soft touch.

You open your eyes in an unknown room, trying to remember where you are. As you turn around you find Natasha fast asleep, her arm around your middle.

“Nat?” you call for her, hoping no one walks in any time soon.

“Five more minutes” she mumbles against your skin.

“Nat, wake up” you plead.

As it turns out, she only reacts when Yelena kicks the door, walking in on you naked under the sheets.

“Happy finals day seestra—-ah! Naked”

“Yelena what is wrong?” to your horror, Melina joins her daughter. “Oh, you two lovebirds!”

“WHY DOESNT ANYONE KNOCK HERE” Natasha screams, putting the sheets above her head.

“Sorry” Melina says, dragging away Yelena.

“Yeah, sorry” Yelena echoes, sounding anything but.

As you both get dressed, the memories of last night come back to you.

After your rendezvous -and almost getting caught by security- you decided it would be better to continue elsewhere. You blush as images of Natasha moaning, kissing and pleasuring you also come back.

“Hey” she approaches you as you walk to the door. “You ok? You look a little…”

“Flustered?” you say, trying to hide your blush.

“Well, yes. I’m sorry about them walking in”

“Last night was… amazing”

“Yeah?” she circles your waist with her hands and pulls you closer. “How amazing?”

“Like winning all Grand Slams in the same year kind of amazing” your hands go around her neck and you pull her for a kiss.

“Wow, that’s big talk” Natasha comments agains your lips. And as she’s about to kiss you, Fury walks in.

“Romanoff! What did I tell you about that cardio”

“For the love of God, knock!” Natasha says, defeated.

“Don’t worry, Fury, I promise she was laying down for the most part” you wink at the man.

“Stay for breakfast” Melina invites as she’s setting the suite’s table with all the room service.

“This has been sufficiently awkward, thank you. And I also imagine you have stuff to do”

“You need to stay hydrated. How much liquid did you lose?” Fury says, going around the kitchen like a headless chicken.

“Fury, I haven’t seen her this relaxed in months. My sister will be fine” Yelena comments.

“Are you coming to the game?”

“Of course. I’m on press duty”

“Come to the player’s box” Melina says.

“Would that be wise?” you ask and everyone shares a look. “What I mean is, we want to make Wanda think her plan worked, right? If she sees me there she’ll know we are on to her”

“I don’t care what she thinks. I want you there” Natasha takes your hand and you smile.

“Alright. I’ll be there. See you later” you kiss her cheek and smile.

“Byeee” Melina and Yelena say, and you realise that Natasha will have to deal with their questions.

Well, if she can deal with the press, she can deal with her family.

—

The day goes by in a blur, and as the match approaches, you feel more anxious. God, how does Natasha do this? If it were you with the world watching, you’d probably break down the minute you step into the court.

“Hello there” Yelena greets as you meet at the player’s entrance of Arthur Ashe. “Ever been here?”

“Just once, with Bucky”

It’s hard to forget the luxurious facilities where players can get food, special gifts, some physio or workout before their matches.

“He won last year, right?”

“Yes” you smile at the memory. “How is Natasha doing?”

“She’s done with warmup, she had something light to eat and she seems ready. She’s also been smiling like an idiot all day, even if Fury kept her away from her phone”

“I want her to win, so whatever it takes” you smile at the blonde, and follow her to the lounge, where Natasha is waiting with Melina. The redhead smiles as soon as she spots you and you kiss her on the cheek.

“How do you feel?”

“Like a complete wreck”

“You got this. Remember she prefers short games, she also doesn’t like to volley or come close to the net. And people say her forehand is killer but she goes too far behind her back, so use it against her”

“Y/N?” she interrupts your rambling. “All of that is fine advice, but I already have Nick on my back 24/7”

“Right, sorry”

“You know what he doesn’t provide?”

“Hm?”

“Good luck kisses”

“That’s right, it’s above my paygrade” Fury says. “Say your goodbyes now”

Melina and Yelena hug her, Fury squeezes her shoulder and then they give you some space.

“Go win this thing” you say, leaning forward and kissing her softly.

Natasha leans her forehead against yours and smiles.

She’s ready.

—

Natasha comes out first, and the crowd goes wild.

Wanda is close behind her; you catch her staring at you, clearly shocked that you’re next to Nat’s family.

“Who’s losing focus now?” Yelena says with a cheerful voice and you can’t help but smile.

The game begins and it is very clear that Natasha is playing aggressively. She has an ace on every game and there are hardly any break points for Wanda. It’s been 30 minutes and the score is 5-2.

“She’s cooked,” Fury says, looking at Wanda. You shake your head.

“Maximoff has an insane record after losing the first set, you know that”

And in fact, she does lose the first set. As always, the crowd loves to cheer on the underdog, so they go wild when Wanda wins the first two games of the second set.

“Come on, Tasha” you scream, and she looks your way, smiling. In no time, they’re tied.

“What are the odds on a tiebreak?” Yelena asks.

“It can go either way” you sigh, confirming that it will happen as they reach 6-6.

Natasha is playing fast and hard, giving no time for Wanda to recover.

But as she serves for the match, Wanda challenges the call in the most disruptive way possible.

It was in, but since Nat stopped playing the point goes to Wanda.

“That’s bullshit” Yelena says under her breath and you nod.

Sure enough, Natasha zones out and goes from match point to losing the second set.

“Dear Lord” Fury says, trying to keep a neutral expression.

“Maximoff looks exhausted, Nick. Natasha is doing great. She didn’t give away the second set. She’ll do this”

The third set begins, the first four games a close call. Deuce is called when they’re tied at 2, and you know that whoever wins this point will end up winning the match.

Every time Wanda has an advantage, Natasha comes back and breaks. Even when the Sokovian is serving, it doesn’t stop Natasha from pulling her back to 40-40. The Russian is a wall, and Wanda seems to lose hope as time passes.

And then, it happens.

Wanda has a double fault that gives Natasha the advantage. Followed by a double fault that gives her a break.

“Yes” Fury claps, trying to keep it together.

As the score approaches 5, your heart beats faster. Once again, 5-2.

Natasha serving for the match.

An ace.

The crowd goes wild.

The second ball goes out of the court when Wanda hits it.

Then, a double fault.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It’s 30-15 and then 30-30. All Natasha needs are two more points to win.

She searches for your face in the crowd and you smile, nodding.

“You’re going to win” you say and she smiles.

Another ace.

The screens show the “championship point” sign.

Wanda doesn’t make it easy for her. She’s like a wounded animal that has nothing to lose, so she runs, she answers every throw with a groan, she comes to the net.

But when Natasha does her signature dropshot, Wanda tries to run, reaches too late and the ball bounces one, two, three times.

“Game, set, match, Romanoff”

“Fuck, YEEES” Yelena screams, standing up and cheering.

It’s all a blur, Natasha falling to the ground and covering her face. Walking to the net to shake Wanda’s hand, and then the umpire’s.

After, she walks among the crowd, trying to reach her box. Yelena is the first to jump, their mother hugging them both and crying.

Fury looks like he’s about to cry as Natasha hugs him. You’re certainly crying happy tears as you watch them.

And then, she walks past him and picks you up from the ground, kissing you in front of the entire stadium.

“Congrats, Nat” you say against her lips.

“I’ll be right back” she promises when the security guard asks her to come back for the ceremony.

“You owe me a question”

“Save it for the next championship” she says against your lips and you kiss again, in spite of the guard’s insistence and with the crowd cheering you on.

—

It’s been six more slam titles, two years of tours around the world.

Natasha still owes you a question.

You’re saving it for a time when you’re both ready, and you’ll ask her to marry you.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanoff fic #Natasha Romanoff x you fluff

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lizzaneia-elizalde · 1 year ago

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Hi I was thinking what about yan!mafia boss who kidnaps and baby traps(no need for smut scene) reader and how life would be for reader while pregnant

Yandere! Ex-patient! Mafia Boss x AFAB! Nurse!Reader

Hmm baby trapping.

Well I can say for sure y'all like the pregnant fics LMAO

I hope you don't mind me putting more details to yandere! This is like the much more twisted version of a greek myth story, so be warned!

Also, Rowan cameo? (Since Rowan is also a mafia boss)

Yandere! Mafia boss name: Hades

"Sir! Rowan's men are closing in!"

Hades clenched his teeth and looked at his right hand man. He was injured and not able to use his left arm right now.

"Fuck. Do we really need to retreat?" Hades pondered, clutching the empty Thompson in his hands and not minding his broken leg.

"Sir, please, let's just retreat!"

Hades bit his tongue and messed up his hair in frustration before opening up the intercom. "Retreat! Get out of there and retreat!"

It was hard extracting his men from that warehouse lot. But in the end, they were left with only 75% of the number of men that went to this mission, much to Hades' disappointment.

Hades.

He doesn't have a surname, nor a family.

All he has is his mafia and his men.

He remembered when he desperately clawed at the feet of the old mafia boss, asking him to take him in.

He remembers the rigorous training he had to go through in order to be accepted inside their famiglia, and just to be recognized by his boss.

After years of being the underdog, he won a do or die tournament inside the famiglia. And he became the new boss once the old one retired.

As somebody who didn't have anything, he knew how hard it is to have nothing at all. Nothing to eat, nothing to sleep on, nothing to drink.

So he made sure to claw as much as he can to his territory.

He is relentless in his pursuit. With his cold eyes and violent tendencies, it's no wonder his wealth and circle expanded exponentially.

His temper always flare up whenever he saw something he wants.

Envious even.

Filled with envy, he would stop at nothing to get what he wants.

He's temperamental, vicious, cold, and jealous.

He's always jealous. Envious.

He wants everything.

So, when he saw the opportunity to extend his territory once more with the Silas famiglia's territory, he had to.

But it landed him in the hospital.

It was a close fight, but in the end, Rowan won due to an error with Hades' group.

Hades sighed and brushed back his hair to his scalp, not even flinching when the nurse accidentally bumped into his broken leg.

"I-i'm so sorry sir! Forgive me!" The nurse panicked, their breathing fast and short.

Hades frowned, his eyes glowering in anger as he stared daggers at the nurse.

The nurse gulped and ran away, scared for their life.

Hades leaned back to the pristine, luxury hospital bed. The ache in his leg didn't faze him as he looked outside of the window, annoyed at the lost oppurtunity.

For now, he's going to let the Silas' go.

The door opened and in came a new nurse, you.

"Hello sir. I'm your new nurse! My name is y/n." You said, gently holding the clipboard in your hand. Your light blue scrub was clean and spotless.

"Hmph." Hades mused. "Did the crybaby ran to you and tattled on me? Telling i'm a big bad man?" He cooed, like talking to a child.

But rather than getting angry or scared, you only laughed and shook your head.

"You could say that." You told him straightforward, and this amused Hades.

"Well, whatever. Just do your best to take care of me." Hades said before he allowed you to come close to him.

You were an amazing nurse.

Nothing short of caring, you made sure to attend to Hades to the best you can do.

It was like you were a family member, taking care of him with such tenderness that even touched Hades.

Your hands, like the work of an angel, had the touch of a skilled healer and caregiver as you even tended to the most mundane tasks that he could do, like eat.

He didn't mind though. The pretty nurse was taking care of him. Who is he to refuse?

At first, he thought you were only after his money, which understandably made him upset. But you never crossed the line to flirt with him. You acted like an old friend, bantering and joking with him.

He liked this. You were not tense around him. You're not intimidated by the man in front of you, only annoyed whenever he refused to do something you needed him to do.

You both become friends, and Hades always looked forward to your care.

Just pure, adulterated caring hands of a mother-like figure.

Mother, huh?

If you took care of Hades like this, how would you take care of your own children?

He innocently pondered. Imagining you pregnant, he daydreamed of you give birth and having children.

But he flinched, suddenly feeling his body hot.

Seeing you pregnant aroused him.

No, seeing you get pregnant due to him aroused him to no end.

It was just supposed to be an innocent thought. Since he wanted to imagine what would it be like for you to have a family of your own and taking care of them.

But he imagined that the husband is him, the children are his, and you are his wife.

He imagined you moaning under him, clutching his back and screaming his name as he blew his load into you, pumping you full.

He imagined you with a round belly, filled with his baby or two, waddling around his mansion as he took care of your every need.

God.

He licked his teeth, suddenly, suddenly liking the prospect of you with him.

Ever since then, he saw you in a different light.

He had to have you.

Hades moved his leg and smiled.

It doesn't hurt anymore, and he knew it was fully healed.

"Thanks for this, doll." Hades said, his husky deep voice breaking the silence inside the hospital room. His sharp, dark eyes bored into your giddy form that was clapping for him.

"That's great then!" You grinned, looking at the clipboard and nodding. "You're good for discharge then! Can't believe you abused your stay here in the hospital until your broken leg actually healed."

Hades howled in laughter, feeling light.

"Hey, I had to. It's much more peaceful here." He lazily grinned. "And, I had my pretty little doll take care of me. That's two birds in one stone."

You flushed pink and gave a small chuckle.

"Haha. So funny." You rolled your eyes.

"What can I say? I'm a clown." Hades joked "Honk honk." He squeezed his nose, pretending it's the red, squeezy clown nose that clowns have.

"The whole circus, you mean." You teased.

The both of you got quiet once more as you helped his men who just got inside the room to move Hades' things out.

He watched you interact with his men and frowned, jealousy bubbling inside of him. And his eyes narrowed when he saw one brush his hand with yours.

In his eyes, it wasn't an accident, it was a deliberate act of flirting with you.

"Okay, I got to report to your physician first. Be right back!" You said, waving to Hades before jogging out.

"Oi, you."

All of his men stopped, heart rate suddenly picking up as Hades pointed at the man who brushed his hands with yours.

"Yes sir?" The man approached him and Hades immediately grabbed his hand, twisting it.

The man was about to scream in agony but only got to whimper in pain when Hades bore holes in him.

"Those hands you touched? I am the only one who's able to do that." Hades seethed, jealousy and envy bubbling inside of him again, threatening to boil over. "So don't you dare do that again."

He let go of the man as he nodded, scrambling away from him. His other men only bowed and continued to do their work.

They knew not to touch the boss' future wife, as what Hades told them.

But they don't know the scope of 'touch', and it seems that even accidental touches aren't out of the question.

They were glad that their boss found a woman to be his partner, and was happy that the boss seemed like he found something to be happy with.

Especially with how hard his life was before, he needed somebody who will love him unconditionally.

But they forgot that Hades was the epitome of envy and jealousy.

They prayed for your soul. May it be to escape Hades' clutches, or for you to tolerate his behavior and his overly possessive nature.

But, six months later, their hair stood on their ends when they saw you inside the boss' mansion, confined, and kidnapped. You had a defeated look on your face as you glared at their boss, who only smirked.

You were kidnapped by Hades.

six months before the kidnapping

Hades visited you in the hospital, bringing a bouquet of flowers in hand. It was an assortment of different floras, most of them of your favorite flower that you mused to him one day.

He sighed, suddenly feeling nervous. It was the first time he felt like this, but he shook his head and clicked his tongue before walking inside.

His long legs strode towards your floor. The other hospital personnel, who once cowered in fear, looked at him curiously and started to gush amongst themselves.

They knew who he was here for.

And once he got to the 4th floor, he saw you, working on your computer.

"Hey little doll." He drawled out, smirking as you looked up to him.

"Hades! How are you?!" You excitedly jumped up, eyes sparkling. Hades felt warm inside, knowing you were smiling like that because of him.

"Oh, you know. Doing the same. Your care is spectacular. I got healed in such a short time. You're an angel, you know that?" Hades winked and you giggled.

"Oh shut you. What are you here for?" You asked.

You gasped, seeing the bouquet of flowers in his hand.

"Grant me the pleasure of being with you, doll?" Hades said, his voice low and quiet, but his resolve was strong.

You grinned and accepted the bouquet, smelling the amazing aroma and smiling.

"Of course!"

At first, dating Hades was fun.

He spoiled you rotten. Giving you jewelry, clothing, food... Anything you looked at, he would buy.

He was a gentleman. A clear and distinct difference from how he's always been.

It was supposed to be a fairytale love story. Well, as much as a fairytale it is being with a mafia boss.

But he was so possessive and overly jealous.

"Why are you looking at him?"

"You don't have male patients, right? No, scratch that. Even women can see how amazing you are."

"Why did he talk to you? Is he asking you out?"

"What did she say? Did she flirt with you?"

"I'll rip their skulls out if you even try to glance their direction."

You groaned, annoyed by his jealousy. You tried to reassure him, that nothing was wrong, that he was the only one for you, but he won't listen.

He was draining to be with. He's always watching other people like a hawk, threatening them if they tried to interact with you, then getting so manipulative with you.

And while you made sweet, sweet love with him one night, with your body filled with his marks and bites, you knew you had to let go of the man.

You can't even work in the hospital right because of his jealousy.

So you have to.

But when you woke up, were kidnapped by him.

"What the fuck?! Hades!" You screamed, looking at the windows. It was grilled. The doors, all unlocked except for the exits.

Nobody was allowed inside the mansion, only you and Hades were residing there.

Hades smirked, looking at you pacing around the mansion. His eyes, dark, obsessed, and possessive, swept your form up and down.

"Doll, you're in the right place." Hades stalked towards you. His long legs, which you once helped heal, was now transporting your twisted boyfriend in front of you. "You think I don't know you want to leave me?"

You seethed, eyes boring betrayal and hatred.

"Why did you kidnap me?"

Hades smirked.

"Like I said, I know you want to leave me. And I can't have that." Hades licked his lips and gently clutched your hips. His thumbs, dangerously close to your core. You shivered, your body responding to his touch. "I did well training your body to like my touch." Hades mused.

You looked away, defiant arousal filling you inside as his hips fit with yours.

You could feel his excitement prodding at your stomach.

"I know you want me, doll." He whispered, leaning down to your ear and licking it. "Doesn't this feel forbidden? If you really hated me, hated my touch, and want to go out, you should have ran away from me. But hey, look at this. You're letting me touch you."

He chuckled darkly as he saw your red face.

"Come on doll." He whispered, kissing your neck. "They said hate sex feels phenomenal. Want to try it?"

Accepting it was the dumbest decision of your life.

He pumped you full, not even bothering to put protection.

And you, swept away by his divine touch, didn't care also.

You only regret this decision once you got pregnant.

Hades gave a triumphant, evil lopsided grin as he called his men to introduce you.

His men's eyes widened in fear at him.

Nobody can even get inside his mansion, let alone his men.

But now, he's openly letting people go inside his mansion. They knew you were inside the mansion, kidnapped. But why is he letting them go inside now?

Hades scoffed and shielded your form from the inquisitive eyes of his men, jealousy filling him.

"Welcome my fiancée, everyone. Treat her well, will you? She's pregnant with my child."

They all froze, before they felt like they were showered with cold ice water.

Baby trapped.

You were baby trapped.

That's why Hades opened the doors to them.

You can't leave no matter what.

And as Hades smirked at your glaring form, they prayed once more.

You're never going out of his clutches.

You were now forever confined in Hades' world.

His Persephone.

#yandere boyfriend #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere writing #male yandere x reader #tw yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere fic #yandere drabbles #lizzaneiaelizalde

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bestmusicalworldcup · 22 days ago

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Best Opening Number Tournament - Full List of Songs

Due to the formatting of my spreadsheets, most of the songs listed here do not have the name of the musical they are from next to them. However, it is my intention that there is no ambiguity as to which songs from which shows are included, and if there is, feel free to send an ask.

25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee 30/90 A Comedy Tonight A Man Of No Importance A Rumor in St. Petersburg A Word to the Wise Alexander Hamilton And You Don’t Even Know It Another Day of Sun Anybody Have A Map? Backstage Babble Bah Humbug! Beautiful Blow Born to Lead Can't Wait Carrying the Banner Circle of Life Company Concerto in F Deep Beneath the City/Not There Yet Deliver Us Don't Stop Me Down in New Orleans Dream a Little Harder Every Story is A Love Story Everybody's Got the Right Ex-Wives Falsettoland/About Time Fancy Dress Fathoms Below Fathoms Below Finland Four Jews in a Room Bitching Frozen Heart Give Them What They Want Good Morning Baltimore Good Morning, Good Day Grease Half as Big as Life Hannibal Hannibal Happiness Heaven on their Minds Hello Here Right Now High School is Killing Me I Don't Know I Hope I Get It I Need a Life I Want to Be Impress Me In In the Heights Intermission Song Invocation and Instructions to the Audience It All Comes Back (Opening) It Sucks to Be Me It's Your Wedding Day Jellicle Songs for Jellicle Cats Just Another Day Just Leave Everything to Me Just Like it Was Before Leave Let There Be Light On My Feet Live in Living Color Live Like This (Opening) Madame Guillotine Madrid is My Mama Magic to Do Me and My Town Merrily We Roll Along More Than Survive Murder Ballad No One Mourns the Wicked O Virga ac Diadema Oh My God (You Guys) Oh the Things You Can Think Oh, What A Beautiful Morning One By One Opening (The Secret Garden) Opening Number (Tootsie) Overture/All That Jazz Overture/Food Glorious Food Peace on Earth Penser l’impossible Pieces of Lives Prelude Prelude: The Ballad of Sweeney Todd Prepare Ye the Way of the Lord Prolog (Elisabeth) Prologue (Little Shop of Horrors) Prologue (Great Comet) Prologue / The Day I Got Expelled Prologue: "Into the Woods" Prologue: Once Upon a December Prologue: Ragtime Prologue/A Warning to the Audience Prologue/Invisible Prologue/The Launching Road to Hell Rock Island Santa Fe (Prologue) Science Fiction/Double Feature Seesaw Sit Down John Spies Are Forever Superhero Girl Tear Me Down The Bells of Notre Dame The Forest The Greatest Show The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals The Old Red Hills Of Home The Oldest Orphan in the John Grier Home The Pajama Game/Racing With the Clock The Stars Look Down The Sweetest Sounds The Virginia Company There Will Be Sun There You Are There's a House This is Halloween Tina's Mother To Be Me Tower of Babble Tradition Tulsa 67 Untitled Opening Number Vérone Vuelie/Let the Sun Shine On Was für ein Kind We Are What We Are We Dance We Start Today We're in the Money Welcome To The Renaissance Welcome to the Rock What Are You Thirsty For? What Time is It? What’s Inside When You're an Addams Where is the Justice Wilkommen Willamania Work Song (Look Down) Worst Team Ever Your Day Your Day In Court

In addition, it is unclear which opening number(s) will be featured for the following shows:

Urinetown The Lord of the Rings Rent Ride the Cyclone

#best opening number tournament

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fictional-library-tournament · 1 year ago

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Hello! Because fuck it, I might as well, I'm running a tournament to find out what Tumblr's favourite fictional library/archive is!

Submit your favourite library/ies and archive/s here!

Submissions are open until 11:00am GMT on 2nd December (so you have just over three weeks to get them in).

Rules:

You can submit as many as you like.

Any library with over 3 entries will go through automatically. Anything with less may have to go through preliminaries, depending on how many entries there are in total.

I especially encourage propaganda! Please give me propaganda! But positive stuff, please. Lift your entry up, don't put down the others.

I will try my best to seed the libraries by number of entries. I've never run a tournament before, so we'll see how well that part goes.

Timeline:

Submissions: 10/11-02/12

Polls open: 03/12 (hopefully - if there's not enough submissions I'll extend that part)

I'm planning to do two polls a day for the first round, and have them last a day. And then we'll see.

Restrictions:

You can submit any library or archive that's fictional! Including things that aren't traditional libraries or archives but are counted as such in the media (can't think of any rn but I'm sure there are some. Star Trek comes to mind maybe? Honestly I'm half asleep rn)

Not librarians. If this goes well I'll do a tournament for them later

Published media, not OCs (can be webcomics, a book you've published, etc, but not 'just' like a fanfiction or OCs you've only written about on here. They're less likely to stand a chance anyway, tbh)

Tournaments who I think might be interested or at the very least share (please please share!): @tournament-announcer @best-book-siblings @best-childhood-book @best-childrens-books-hq-blog @tournamentcorner @librariesinvideogames @iamlibrarian @roguelibrarian @awesomearchives @haveyoureadthiscomic-poll @haveyoureadthisbook-poll @digitalnewberry @houghtonlib @badass-queer-couples-battle @jstor @mysterythemematch

#tumblr polls #tumblr tournament #books & libraries #libraries #fictional libraries #yeah yeah what else was i gonna do a tournament on #archives #fictional archives

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woso-dreamzzz · 10 months ago

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Shot Through The Heart IV

Alexia Putellas x Archer!Reader

Summary: Your last final

You smiled at your girls. At nearly ten years old, they were growing like weeds.

Alexia had hung up her boots nearly six months ago and now it was your turn. It was your last world championship ever. It had been a good few years for you but you knew it was time to retire.

Your medals were getting a bit cluttered and Alexia was adamant that you didn't need as many bows as you had.

You knew it was time.

Your girls were forging their own paths. Maya loved football like Alexia loved football and Elena had scratched herself on one of your arrows once and had been hooked ever since.

It was time to move away from your sport and focus on your daughters.

Alexia had moved on to coaching at Barca and you had your own coaching planned. You'd received offers from your old team in Korea but had benched the idea with a simple 'maybe in a few years' as you wanted to focus on your girls first.

You rolled your shoulders as Alexia stood behind you, adjusting your shoulder brace.

"Not too tight?" She asked.

"It's good," You confirmed," I'm ready."

Alexia smiled at you fondly, cupping your cheek. "Girls!" She called," Your mum is about to head out! Wish her luck!"

Elena barrelled into you quickly, her arms moving to hug you tight. "You need to win!" She said," You have to win!"

"I'll try my best," You laughed," But you and your sister have got to be super quiet during the shots, alright? Do you remember why?"

"Because it's respectful."

"It's boring," Maya muttered as she approached. She usually had football practice today but Alexia had taken her out of it because today was the last final of your life. Maya hadn't really taken it well, perhaps not really understanding how important this was.

"Maya," Alexia said in warning," Enough."

Your girls may not have been teenagers yet but Maya certainly acted like one.

"I'm just saying!"

"This is your mum's last tournament ever," Alexia chided," And you will support her in it because we are a family. How would you like it if me and your mum didn't come to your games? Huh?"

"Sorry, mum." Maya moved to give you a hug and you held her nice and tight, opening your arms to welcome Elena back in as well.

"Good luck," Alexia said as you moved to head out, shouldering your bow as the tournament staff waited outside for you," Not that you'll need it."

"I'll take it anyway," You said, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

Unlike football games, crowds at archery tournaments sat in silence. The target sat seventy metres away from you and you closed your eyes briefly to focus on the wind. It was barely there and you smiled. If there was one thing you hated, it was shooting in the wind.

You shook hands with your opponent, smiling at her in recognition. You used to play on the same team when you played in Korea. She was a few years younger than you so you never really interacted but it was nice to see her.

You weren't going to let her win though.

Archery had always been easy for you. It was repetitive and calming.

Notch.

Draw.

Release.

Repeat.

You matched it to your breathing, one eye closing to line up your shot. You drew on the inhale and released on the exhale.

Ten.

Your opponent was nearly as good as you but there was a reason you had been world number one for years.

You rarely missed the ten.

Sometimes it wasn't a proper bullseye but you knew how to aim your shots so there was another space in the circle for the rest of your arrows.

Your opponent consistently hit tens too but dotted inside her shots were a few nines and a disastrous six in her last set that let you know you had cinched the victory.

But, still, this was going to be your last competitive shot.

You made sure to make it memorable.

A bullseye.

You smiled, shaking her hand and the rest of her team's before looking up at the stands to see your wife and children. Elena looked ecstatic. You weren't surprised. She'd loved coming to practice with you ever since she could walk.

Maya was equally excited, jumping up and down even though her heart was firmly settled on football.

Alexia blew you a kiss as you began to get ushered away for the medal ceremony.

You accepted it happily, pretending to bite it for the cameras before excusing yourself as soon as you could.

"I'm so proud of you, amor!" Alexia came out of nowhere. She leapt into your arms and you had to drop your bow to catch her.

You spun her around with a laugh that got muffled against her lips against yours.

"Did you enjoy the match, girls?" You were talking to your children but didn't look away from Alexia, who was pressing soft, fluttering kisses all over your face.

"You're so cool, mum!" Elena said," Can you teach me how to shoot like that?"

"Let's wait until you're strong enough to draw a proper bow, Elena, but after that, definitely."

"Maya?" Alexia said, still refusing to leave your arms," What about you? Do you have something to say?"

Maya huffed like a moody teenager. "I guess archery isn't as boring as I thought."

You laughed. "Thanks, kid. High praise."

She puffed out her cheeks. "You know what I mean."

"I do." You hefted Alexia up higher and grinned. "Come on, you lot. I'm starving."

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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janmisali · 2 years ago

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hello, tumblr! we've all had a lot of fun voting in polls and putting our favorite blorbos and blorbinojn against each other, and now I think it's time for.......

THE NUMBER TOURNAMENT

uncountably infinite options to choose from, but only one can be the champion! I mean, only one number can be the champion. the number "one" may or may not end up being the champion.

anyway submit your favorite numbers! any type of number is valid, even things that aren't numbers as long as they're sufficiently numerical! I'm gonna keep submissions open until I have enough to make a well-seeded bracket from the most popular options. go wild!

#polls #tumblr polls #numbers #math #mathblr #jan misali

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lauraneedstochill · 2 years ago

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“All yours” (modern!Aemond Targaryen, college au, part 1)

🔥 part 2: First time for everything

author’s note: the idea came out of NOWHERE. I reread my The Greens (modern!au) — and then this thing happened. to keep up with the tradition I’m posting it as it is (I may regret it when I wake up lmao), hopefully, some of you can enjoy this silliness! ✨ • Aemond doesn’t lose an eye but he still has a big scar (let’s pretend Luke missed by a couple of inches) • I originally said that he’d be into sports however I’m yet to pick a sport for him so the description is very vague (I’m open to suggestions!)

words: ~3000 (I TRIED to cut it short... but alas)

warnings: none, I think? they just swoon over each other (and a cheeky blond makes an appearance again ;)

⋙ It’s impossible not to know who Aemond Targaryen is when pretty much every girl on campus has a crush on him. The tall athletic guy with chiseled cheekbones and bright eyes who wins one tournament after another, manages to stay at the top of his classes but barely talks to anyone and has a handful of friends. Even the scar on the left side of his face — a faded red stripe from his temple and down to the cheek — only adds to his appeal although you suspect it’s mostly due to people not knowing how he got said scar. Come to think of it, there isn’t much to know about him at all: he’s not on social media, rarely goes to parties, stays out of trouble and doesn’t even like his pictures being taken. There is a certain charm to that mystery yet you also can’t help but respect his intelligence and perseverance. (And you may find him attractive, but that’s a given.)

⋙ You share a few classes with him, and he usually sits nearby although you think it’s purely a coincidence. He once gave you his pen when you forgot yours, and he also sometimes stands behind you in line for coffee in the nearby cafeteria but you never really interact. You catch him looking at you a couple of times and you don’t think much of it. You might’ve thrown a glance or two at him, too, since there’s no crime in that.

⋙ You get paired up for a project by mere chance: your best friend fell sick and his mate missed the class for whatever reason so you and Aemond are the only ones without a partner, and Mr. Harrold tells you to work together. Aemond approaches you when the class is over.

“Hi” — “Hi” you say in unison. There’s a glint of a smile on his lips, his eyes studying your face.

“I’ve got two training sessions today, can we maybe start tomorrow?” he suggests.

“Sure, tomorrow sounds fine,” you nod. “Meet me in the library at 3?”

You quickly discuss the books you’ll need, and he casually asks for your number so you could text him the details. While you’re typing it, you miss the grin that appears on his face. Truth be told, you’re too busy thinking of how good his arms look with his sleeves rolled up.

⋙ The next day, he’s only five minutes late. You don’t even notice, wrapped up in reading, until he rushes in, a tad disheveled and very apologetic. You are about to tell him it’s no big deal when you notice blood on his hand — or more so on his knuckles. He looks like he wants to avoid the subject but you are truly shocked at the sight.

“Should I worry about the other guy?” you muster a smile, looking him over with concern.

“He deserved it,” Aemond mumbles as he sits next to you, averting his gaze.

He goes to dig some books out of his bag when you take his hand — you do so without thinking, it almost comes out as a reflex. While you examine his bruised skin, Aemond pretty much forgets how to breathe.

“It’s not that bad but will swell up in the morning, so you need to apply some ice,” you tell him, fingers gently brushing over his. “Here, this is the next best thing I can think of,” you grab your cup of iced coffee and put it to his knuckles. When you glance up at Aemond, you see him looking at you with a stunned face expression, and you realize that you might’ve overstepped a little.

“I’m sorry, you probably already know what to do without my advice,” you move to pull back the cup, but he suddenly covers your hand with his other palm.

“Don’t,” he breathes out. “This feels nice.”

Within a few seconds, his cheeks turn red.

“The ice, I mean, you were right about applying the ice,” he corrects himself, and you can’t help but smile wider. The most popular guy on campus is blushing because you held his hand, and there’s something very endearing about this moment. Or maybe it’s just him.

You push that thought away and divert the conversation to your assigned project. He keeps his hand intertwined with yours for the rest of the evening, both of you acting like it’s no big deal.

⋙ The next time you see him, he brings you coffee, and somehow he guesses your order perfectly. You meet up a few times a week, and he makes sure to come in time. Always prepared and polite, he buys you coffee regularly and insists on carrying all your books. You now sit together in classes, he shares his secret Spotify account with you and you learn that you share a passion for reading. Aemond also gives you his hoodie when he notices that you’re cold on your way out of the library one evening. He pulls the hoodie up over his head and his T-shirt comes up, too, exposing his lower abdomen and the tight lines of his abs. You take a deep, long breath, pretending that you didn’t see a thing.

And sometimes his hands brush yours and his gaze lingers on your face. But it’s another thing you try not to think of.

⋙ He mentions in passing that his training will get more intense as the competition season begins. At this point, you’ve been meeting for a couple of weeks pretty regularly, and you feel a slight twinge in your heart at the realization that you’ll see him less often. What you don’t expect is for him to stand you up. At any other time, you might’ve cut him some slack, but it just so happened that you are in a really bad mood since the moment you woke up, and him not answering your texts only rile you up.

You are so annoyed, you come into the locker room with little to no hesitation. Most of the guys already left but you still hear a couple of them whistling at you, and you flip them off. Aemond just got out of the shower and when you see him, he already has his jeans on and stands next to his locker searching for a clean shirt.

“Dude, your girl looks pissed,” one of his mates comments, and Aemond gives him a perplexed look. And then he turns to see you, your eyes burning holes in him, and his face pales.

“Oh, fuck,” he mutters. “We were supposed to meet, weren’t we?”

“Yep,” you drawl with a frown, and his face falls even more.

He doesn’t have time to explain as you hear another whistle.

“Nice ass,” it’s Jeff, one of the frat boys who’s famous for not keeping his hands to himself. You are about to shut him off but when Jeff looks up at you, his smirk disappears.

“Woah, I didn’t know it was you!” he raises his hands in defense. “My apologies to your ass,” he glances behind your back, terrified. “...To you, I mean my apologies to you!” he backs off. “Hey, it was meant as a compliment, tell your boyfriend I’m not his punching bag!”

“You need to google what a compliment is, you idiot,” you scoff at him, and Jeff all but runs off.

The room is awkwardly quiet, and Aemond’s friends quickly get out, leaving you two alone. He barely has time to open his mouth before you press your hand to his chest, making him stumble back purely out of surprise.

“Care to explain what the hell was that?” you hiss at him, your gaze burning. “My boyfriend?!”

“I didn’t say that, he made an assumption,” Aemond clarifies.

“Jeff was the one you got into a fight with?” you suddenly figure out. “But why?”

“He was talking shit about you,” he says, clearly displeased.

“And you decided it was worth a fight? I could not care less if he — ”

“I do,” Aemond cuts you off. “And I think it was worth it,” he punctuates with so much certainty, it takes you aback.

In the next second, you realize that your hand is still on his bare chest — it’s warm and toned, his muscles tense under your touch — and you are standing very close to each other. It’s very, very hard not to think of.

“Um, thank you, I guess,” you step back with your gaze still on him. “I-I shouldn’t have barged in here, it wasn’t very —”

One of your legs bumps into a bench, your eyes widen — and you are about to trip over when Aemond catches you. With a blink of an eye, his hands are on your waist as he brings you closer again, and this time the distance between you two is even shorter. You involuntarily look at his lips and when you glance back up, you catch him looking at yours.

If he kisses you right now, you won’t mind. In fact, you will probably enjoy it. Probably a lot.

Aemond clears his throat and pulls back.

“I’m sorry that I stood you up, the coach didn’t let us rest for a minute,” he explains with a repentant tone. “I wanted to send you a text, I really did. And then it just went out of my head.”

“It’s fine, I get it,” you give him a wan smile. “You warned me that you would be busy.”

“Still, it was rude on my part,” he insists. “You have any plans for the evening? We can still go to the library, I’m all yours for today.”

The way he phrases it makes your heart skip a bit. You bite the inside of your cheek to concentrate.

“They closed earlier,” you sigh. “Something about updating the catalog.”

Aemond only thinks for a second.

“I, um... Live close by. Maybe you can come over? No one will bother us there,” his smile looks sheepish and unsure but there’s a hint of eagerness in his voice. And he is still very much half-naked.

“I happen to be completely free,” you say as your concentration goes out of the window.

⋙ Aemond apologizes again, profusely. He gives apologies in the locker room, on your way out, in the cab — and when you get out of the car and he opens his mouth again — you turn and firmly place your hand over it.

“I think I got it the first time,” you tell him, and he looks amused with your act.

You feel him smiling, his lips tickling your palm, and you move your fingers away as your cheeks heat up.

“Quite fierce, aren’t you,” he remarks.

You don’t notice a sidewalk curb but Aemond does — his hand finds yours when you are a moment away from stumbling again, and he tugs you closer. He doesn’t comment on it, asking you about your day instead. There are a few other parts of your body where you want him to put his hands on, you think.

⋙ His apartment is unexpectedly huge — four bedrooms and a living room, high ceilings and large windows, and you can’t hide your bewilderment. He half-heartedly explains that his dad left it to them after the divorce.

“Oh, so it’s not just yours,” you conclude, relieved. “Makes it look like less of a palace.”

“I have my own, actually,” he almost looks ashamed, and you find his modesty ever so adorable. “I’ve repainted the walls, and the place needs some air. So I’m crushing here at the moment.”

He tells you that his older brother Aegon mostly hangs out in his gallery, Helaena took a week off to visit her friends, and you already know that their youngest — Daeron — studies abroad.

“Mum recently moved in with her boyfriend,” Aemond nonchalantly adds while showing you to his room.

You realize that it’s just the two of you. The thought of it warms up the lower part of your body, anticipation tingling in your abdomen, but you do your best to keep it together.

Luckily, you get easily distracted by the beautiful interior, his sister’s plants and paintings, and rows of photos on the walls, and you try not to gawk at the surroundings. Aemond tries not to gawk at you. You both fail.

“Feel yourself at home, I’ll go look for my charger,” his hand grazes your back after he opens the door. Aemond leaves you standing but the feeling of his touch remains. You have to pinch yourself to get back to reality.

⋙ You see his bookshelf that stretches from one end of the room to the other, and excitement bubbles in your chest as you rush to take a closer look. There’s a plethora of books of all colors and genres, paperback and hardcover, and you energetically look through the rows filled with them. You reach for one of the books on the upper berth, standing on your tiptoes but it causes you to lose balance. The only reason you don’t fall flat on your back is because Aemond’s hand swiftly lands on your waist, steading you. He turns you around to him, and your faces are suddenly only inches apart.

“Are you always this clumsy?” he chuckles lightly, his breath fanning over your skin.

Only when you are around, apparently.

Aemond’s lips part, his brows raising, and he stares at you, surprised. And then you realize that you said it out loud. Before you get a chance to correct yourself, he lets out a laugh, and you feel your face flushing. You close your eyes in embarrassment, trying to steady your breath, and his laughter dies down. He firmly locks his hands around you.

“What’s on your mind?” Aemond murmurs after a minute of silence.

You, you, you. Fearing that there’s still a chance that you are misreading the situation, you vaguely respond:

“A lot of things,” but your voice comes out strained and quiet.

When you don’t hear him replying, you open your eyes — your gaze immediately meeting his. The warmth from his hands slips into your body.

“You know what I’m thinking about?” Aemond asks in a low tone, his eyes a shade darker in this lightning. You shake your head because talking seems like an actual challenge right now.

“Kissing you,” he confesses, maintaining eye contact.

You inhale sharply, a wave of relief washing over you. And then something else sparkles inside, tightening your chest, and the well-known burning sensation blossoms right under your navel.

“You should,” you tell Aemond, and it’s the only confirmation he needs.

He crashes his lips into yours with fervor, pulling your chest flush against his and knocking the breath from your lungs. His hand cups your face, guiding you even closer, his mouth greedy and intent with its every movement, and your head goes dizzy with longing. The kiss is both tender and heated, and you lose yourself in the moment, only thinking of how soft and supple his lips are, and how ineffably good they feel.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a while,” Aemond mumbles against your mouth.

“Only been a month,” you manage to say while his lips move from your jaw to your neck.

“Long before that,” his words burn the spot just below your ear, making you shiver. “Ever since you argued with Mr. Harrold that Zelda Fitzgerald wrote ‘The Great Gatsby’ and her husband was a total — hmm, how did you call him? Yeah, a total nitwit,” he cackles.

You glance at him with your mouth ajar:

“Aemond, that was last semester.”

“I didn’t know how to approach you,” he admits, abashed. “And I didn’t want it to be weird or to mess it up and — ”

You shut him off with another kiss, and he hums in satisfaction. His thumb softly rubs your cheek while he deepens the kiss, his mouth exploring yours. His other hand dares to move lower, squeezing your hip and making you sigh at the alacrity of his. It’s simultaneously overwhelming and not enough but he still holds back a little, not crossing the line just yet.

“Wow, can’t believe this is finally happening!”

You break the kiss, startled by someone’s voice. A blond guy is leaning on the door frame, a pair of glasses and a grin on his face. Aemond groans into your shoulder, his hands moving to your waist.

“It’s Y/N, right? I’m this dipshit’s brother,” he shamelessly walks closer and extends a hand. You reluctantly go for a handshake, but he plants a quick kiss on yours.

“Aegon,” Aemond says with a warning tone.

“Oh, don’t grumble at me, I’ve been listening to you talk about her for months,” his brother’s smile widens. “Now Hel owes me 50 bucks.”

“Why is that?” you squint at him.

“We made a bet. I said he’d grow a pair and ask you out before the year ends. Glad I was right,” he snickers.

“Well, technically...,” you can help but laugh.

“He still didn’t?” Aegon fakes a gasp. “I apologize on his behalf, I taught him better than that!”

“Can you please fuck off already?” Aemond glares at him, irritated, and Aegon rolls his eyes but takes the hint.

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it, kids,” he winks at you and walks away.

“I like him,” you exclaim.

“I don’t,” Aemond retorts and pulls you in for a kiss as soon as the door closes. “But I will let him win the bet.”

“Is that so?” you cock your head with a smile.

“Yeah,” he pauses, his face getting serious, and he almost looks scared while asking: “Will you go on a date with me?”

“I’d love to,” you agree without a second thought, and his lips twitch upward, making your heart swell with affection. “Where do you plan on taking me?”

“I’ve got a few ideas,” Aemond says cryptically, his eyes never leaving yours. “May be more than just one date,” he sounds both daring and pleading. You gently trace the line of his scar, and he relaxes at the movement.

“So you are all mine for a while, huh?” you joyfully assume, earning a laugh from him, and he leans in, his hand lovingly caressing your face.

“For as long as you’ll have me,” he whispers before closing the distance between your lips. ➡ part 2: First time for everything

• listen, I looked at his face and I thought there’s no way girls won’t find him attractive, with or without a scar. so yeah, this version of Aemond is more confident. I may do a second part? maybe more headcanons (love confessions, meeting his family, moving in together, etc.)

• I kinda want to write for Aegon, too... I mean, just look at the original photo and tell me he doesn’t seem like the sweetest fuckboy ever! tagging @greenowlfactif, @kyuupidwrites since you asked (I hope that’s fine 🥺)

✨ recent fic: “My first choice” (she’s Aegon’s bestie, inspired by “Little women”) 💌 my masterlist English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!

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