#captain american x y/n
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steve. r
warnings: missionary, pet names ( princess, doll, and beautiful), soft steve, steve cussing (language ☝️🤓)
you were at a party that your friend steve rogers had invited you to. you thought it was gonna be a normal party like the ones he would also invite you to but you were surprised when you came to realize it wasn’t just a normal party, the avengers were there
“wow steve, this is some party” you said as you walked by his side, “and you live here too? with the avengers” you chuckled slightly to yourself
“yeah but it’s not really that big of a deal i guess” steve shrugged as he looked over at you. “steve you’re literally the captain america, not a big deal my ass”
he laughed as he put an arm around your shoulders as he went to introduce you to all the other members of the avengers
you talked to all of them and they were all nice and interesting people with some interesting backgrounds too. you and wanda really hit it off, you both found out you had a lot in common. “i think i just found my new best friend” you chuckled while sitting at a bar with steve. “wow so you’re just gonna ditch me like that?” he gave you a small smile while shaking his head
“that’s how i feel with you and bucky” you rolled your eyes playfully, taking a sip of her drink. “you got me there, but you know i love you both equally”
“yeah yeah, whatever you say” you playfully rolled your eyes at him again
after the party everyone went back to their rooms or went about their business. you just finished helping steve clean up as you said to him, “wow, it’s really dark outside”
“yeah, are you sure you want me to drop you home still or you can stay here for the night?” steve looked over at you, leaning against a counter top.
“i mean yes, i don’t really want to be a burden” you laughed slightly. “you won’t be and i don’t want you being alone this late at night”
“im always alone at night, there’s no difference” you shrugged, giving him a small smile. “still” steve simply said
you sighed as you shook your head, “fine, okay ill stay” you said in defeat, “but where am i gonna stay?”
“well you could stay in the many guest rooms that tony has..” steve said as he begin walking into the hallway as you followed him. “..or you could stay in my room” steve stopped in his tracks as he turned to you, towering over you as you looked up at him
“o-oh, well i don’t wanna take up your space and stuff” your face began to heat up as you looked away nervously. “relax y/n, you know you won’t bother me” steve said as he rubbed your shoulder gently, “well if you say so then” you laughed nervously as you followed him back to his room
for some reason you felt a feeling that you thought you would never feel about steve, you felt.. nervous. you felt nervous to be around him right now but also with a hint of excitement of what the night holds
“do you want to change into something more comfortable?” steve asked after you both arrived to his room, which was basically like a studio apartment. it had a kitchen, a living room, a bathroom and bedroom, everything a studio could have
“yeah sure, this dress is starting to feel uncomfortable too” you laughed slightly as steve looked you over. he felt a weird feeling in his stomach as he took in your appearance, you look so beautiful right now, the way your dress hugged your body, your eyes, your everything. you just looked so phenomenal, the lighting hitting your face so perfectly, illuminating all your features
steve went into his room as you followed, as you both entered his room you looked around, taking in your surroundings. “wow it’s surprisingly clean in here” you chuckled to yourself as steve gave you a playful eye roll. “what” you shrugged, “back then you were very messy so i expected it”
steve handed you one of his shirt and a pair of one of his sweatpants. “these might be a little big on you but you can tie it”
you thanked him as you set the clothes on the bed. “i’ll leave the room so you can change” steve smiled as he turned away, “if you need help with anything, im on the other side of the door”
“wait, i kinda need help with my dress” you laughed awkwardly, “sorry, but i can’t reach the zipper”
“it’s not problem��� steve said as he made his way over to you. he stood behind you as his hands went to the back of your dress, running his hands over the zipper
with a gentle, and painfully slow motion, he began to pull the zipper down. the sound was surprisingly loud in the quiet room, a soft, intimate rasp that seemed to echo
inch by inch, the fabric parted, revealing the smooth melanin and delicate skin of your back. Steve’s hands were steady but inside, a storm of emotions exploded
you tilted your head slightly, your hair moving to one side swiftly, exposing the nape of your neck. steve’s fingers lingered, his pulse quickening as he reached the small of your back. the air between the both of you was thick with unspoken words, with possibilities that neither dared to voice
finally, the zipper reached its end, and the dress loosened around you. you turned slowly, your eyes meeting his. there was a vulnerability in your gaze, a silent question hanging between the two of you. the distance was unbearable, yet neither of you moved, caught in the tension of the moment
“thank you” you murmured, your voice trembling just a bit. steve nodded, his throat tight, unable to trust his voice
you both stood there, in silence, the world outside the door forgotten.
you thought the silence was going to to continue as the night drifted away but your thoughts were cut short as a pair of lips captured yours in a deep but passionate kiss
the kiss speaking louder than the silence and the words that were caught in their throats.
steve pulls out of the kiss as he looks into your eyes. your eyes stare back up at him as he says “i’m sorry, i don’t know why i did tha-“, steve’s words were caught short as you kissed him this time
the kiss was the only answer steve needed as he kissed you back, moving his hands up to cup your cheeks.
you reach up to wrap your hands around his neck, your dress falling down from your body. steve’s hands move down to your thighs as he picks you up,your legs wrapping around his waist as he walks over to his bed, still kiss you
he laid you on the bed and stood back up and began to take his clothes off. as you watched him, you felt as if everything was moving in slow motion. the swift but slow movements of steve made you feel things in your stomach and her pussy
after getting rid of his clothes, he pulled down his boxers as his dick bounced back against his stomach. your mouth went dry as you looked at the size of him, it was like god sculpted steve himself, his muscles, his abs, the veins on his hands and his dick, everything about him was heavenly and beautiful, he was like a greek god
“i see you’re enjoying the view” steve smirks at you as he climbed back on top of you, his muscles flexing. “shut up” you give him a playful eye roll as he captured your lips in another kiss, biting your bottom lips softly, asking for entrance into your mouth
you let him in as his tongue explored your mouth, from top to bottom. he reached behind you with one hand and unclasped your bra, throwing it somewhere around the room
he starts kissing down your neck, to your chest and down to your stomach as his fingers played with the hem of your panties. “steve~” you whimpered his name as you bit your bottom lips. “it’s okay beautiful, i’m gonna make you feel good”
he slid your panties off and threw them to the side, grabbing his dick as his thumb rubbed around the tip, spreading the precum around the head of his cock
you grew more wet every second, watching his movements and how he’s slowly teasing her, it was turning you on more
steve slowly and steadily swiped the tip of his cock through your folds, earning a low gasp from you. he smirked to himself as he tapped the tip on your clit, earning another gasp from you. “already so sensitive hmm beautiful?”
“don’t worry princess i won’t keep you waiting any longer” steve said and then hes slowly pushing himself into you
“s-steve” you moaned as his length filled you up, already hitting your g-spot. he grabbed your thighs as he positioned himself better and slowly moving inside you
he moaned as he felt your walls clenched around him, as if choking him. he wanted to cum already, your pussy felt so good and warm.
“s-shit y/n” he moaned your name as his pace begin to speed up, your body starting to heat up more.
your legs are wrapped around his waist tightly, your arms wrapped around his neck and his back as you claws at his back, leaving marks all over it. marks he would look at later on and admire
“it’s so deep steve~” you moaned against his ear as beads of sweat dripped down the side of your forehead. “i know princess, i got you, gonna make you feel so good” steve moaned into your ear as his pace was fast and rough but not too rough to hurt her
“taking me so well doll, fuck~”
his thrusts got sloppy as your fingers gripped onto his hair and your fingers claw and scratched his back, the muscles flexing under your fingertips
“i-i’m gonna cum steve~” you whimpered into his ear as you felt the heat building up in her lower stomach. “me too princess, me too”
few strokes later you felt yourself clenching around his dick as you released all over his dick, moaning and crying out his name.
steve came a few seconds after you, moaning your name, mixed with curses as he fucked his cum into you, filling you full
you both breathe in sync while staring into each others eyes. steve leans down as he kisses you and nibbles at your bottom lip, smiling into the kiss
there was a knock at the door as you guys heard tony on the other side of it saying “keep it down please, some of us are actually trying to sleep”
#black!writer#imagine#smut fic#oc#steve rogers#marvel#mcu#captain american#marvel smut#steve rogers smut#black reader#black!y/n#fem reader#black!reader#steve rogers x black!reader#captain america x reader#captain america x black!reader#steve rogers x reader
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The Honda Odyssey
Logan Howlett x Reader | smut | 6k words Summary: The car fight reimagined and it only needed to be like 10% more erotic than the original.
I got carried away. I just love Wolvie so much. I'm so happy Logan is getting the adoration he deserves. Long live the Wolverine renaissance.
Warning: smut, p in v, ass play, foul language.
If you had to pinpoint a moment when your life became the shit show it had steadily developed into, you’d say it was the moment you auditioned for X-Force.
In your tenure as besties with Wade Wilson, it's fair to say things hadn’t gone smoothly. The man was a conduit to all things fucked up, but you adored his loose morals and quick mouth. The idiot in red had weaselled his way into your heart and became something of a brother to you and more recently a roommate.
Now, if you’d have told your younger self you’d be in your late twenty’s sharing an apartment with a burn victim who regularly staples a toupee to his fucking head and a coke-head, blind, old African American woman, you’d have laughed in their fucking face.
So, you’d like to think that as these things go you are pretty damn well adjusted but traversing the multiverse was a bit of a stretch, even for you.
One moment you’re at Wade’s surprise party, the next your ass has been zapped to the TVA and you’ve been given a sacred mission; to accompany Marvel Jesus (Wade) and protect the sacred timeline.
Naturally you’re fucking mind blown, you’re a low-level mutant, fuck, you couldn’t even join the X-Men. Your particular set of skills were a dime a dozen and your flagrant disregard of rules had made you a ‘poor candidate’.
No, the mutant powers you had been graced with weren’t extraordinary by any means. You were basically an off-brand Captain America, just without the gorgeous cheekbones, patriotism and righteous need to do good.
In layman terms, you are strong as shit and have an accelerated healing factor. Not quite the same level as Wade’s mind you. You have, give or take, an inconvenient five-minute turnaround on the more fatally debilitating wounds.
To say you were unqualified was an understatement and to say you were reluctant was a simple fact. A fact you repeated, loudly to anyone that would listen as you were bathed in rich black leather.
“I think maybe you meant to grab negasonic teenage whatchacallit… she’s great, super powerful!” You continue. “Did you mean to get Domino or Colossus or maybe one of the X-Men? “
“No Miss Y/L/N. We have not got the wrong person for the job.” The man you later find out is called Paradox, calls out as you re-enter the operation headquarters. “Mr Wilson requested your presence; he wanted your assistance on his mission.”
“Y/N/N… ten out of ten, baby girl, I one hundred percent would bang. I’m talking raw dog, Barry White on a rug, let’s go all fuckin’ night.” Wade hollers in his own brand-new suit and even you must admit, you look fucking amazing. “Sweet angel, we’ve just gotta’ come up with a superhero name for you!”
You are enrobed in rich thick black and teal leather, your first ever hero suit and it’s a fucking good one. It doesn’t cling, but instead pulls you in securing your flesh and extenuating curves, ones you hadn’t entirely realised you had. The bottom half your face is concealed with a mask, carefully crafted to follow the contours of your nose and cheekbones.
You’d barely recognised the mysterious figure in the mirror.
“Right?! Tailor was pretty handsy though!”
“Oh yeah, ha! - that man is indeed a predator.” Wade says with a chuckle and a fond sigh.
It shames to you to say but that’s when you stopped fighting this whole thing. You looked the part of a hero; you thought that maybe the TVA knew what they were doing. That they had seen something in you and knew that you had a good heart under all the darkness that lingered on the surface.
Wrong.
You were just a demand Wade had made. He wanted his number one disciple at his side whilst he carried out his sacred mission. You were part of an attempt at appeasing him whilst they destroyed your timeline.
Little more than a pawn to be used whilst they manipulated him into a false sense of security.
Thus, you were thrown into a series of events far beyond your control when Wade being Wade decided you were hunting down a Wolverine to stabilise the timeline, only to be once again fucking zapped into some place they called the void by that little English shitbird named Paradox. It’s entirely accurate to say that you were a little less sturdy than your compadres.
Unfortunately for you, the fall from such a height into the void was fatal. When you finally awake in the desolate wasteland to the sounds of blades clashing it is disorientating to say the least.
Forcing yourself to your feet you lower your mask and gasp in the sweet strangely stale oxygen as you stretch out your newly healed spine with a groan. It was impossible to tell how long you were out as you take in the scene before you; Wade and the Wolverine are engaged in a heated battle. From the looks of it, Logan is winning this fight despite being the human equivalent of a knife block with Wade’s katanas protruding from his chest.
For a moment you pause, perhaps its head trauma that hasn’t healed (He’s fucking Deadpool, he can look after himself for two minutes) and appreciate his form, the Wolverine the two of you had kidnapped was gorgeous. Tch, as if there was any other kind.
Sure, you were biased you’d always been somewhat of a fangirl, but the Wolverine was objectively breath-taking.
You’d indulged in comics whilst growing up but when you found out he was real and looked the way he did, hell, Wolverine was your sexual awakening. He was the first man to make you feel that tingle in your lower stomach. Yes, you may have been thirteen years old, a ball of puppy fat and social anxiety but you’d been waiting for him ever since.
You’re snapped out of your reverie when Wade loses baby knife in Logan’s shoulder blade, finally you spring into action. In good time as well as you’re not sure if even Deadpool can survive decapitation.
In the singularly most stupid act of your life you throw yourself in front of your friend’s body. “Wait, Wait! Please!”
Wade has paused behind you, you can feel him weighing up the situation, pausing for a moment to see what you’re going to pull out of the bag.
“The TVA they can fix it, whatever you did, whatever made you the worst Logan, they can fix it! – They have the power to end universes, but they also have the power to fix yours! Help us get back there and we can fix both of our worlds! I promise, they can fix it.” You plead, it’s not quite a lie exactly, more of an Educated Wish than anything.
Okay it is a lie, but you’re sure that the TVA can most likely, probably, maybe fix his world.
Logan’s eyes lock with yours in that moment you can see that he wants to kill you both and be done with it, but that hope won’t let him. You feel a smidgen of guilt for the deceit, but frankly you’ve done worse for less. Your world was on the line it wasn’t the time to pull your punches.
Fast forward four exhausting hours, two periods of unconsciousness and one flaying to find yourself sat opposite Wade gagging down cold spoonful’s of Spam in some dusty ass diner.
You were no better than a man as you watched the Wolverine.
Those arms, those thighs, the way he had beheaded Sabretooth without even breaking a fucking sweat. You wanted him to wrap those instruments of death he called hands around your throat and fuck you dirty until the sun came up.
It had been a long exhausting day and you had been soaking wet for most of it.
Shit, could he smell that? Does that count as sexual harassment? You’d have to ask Wade.
Logan, however, was utterly dismissive of your advances in the face of what was undoubtedly utterly horrific past trauma. Something you were trying to be understanding about, but self-pity in a man, it just turned you on. I said you had some surface layers of darkness.
Unable to help yourself you gaze at him as he opens a bottle of rubbing alcohol. You are utterly entranced, watching the thick chords in his throat bob as he takes a swig.
That tanned skin where his jaw ends and neck begins, slick with sweat and dirt. You’d love to sink your canines into the strip below his ear. He must feel your stare on him as he looks up and catches your eyes dark with lust already surveying his person.
It should embarrass you, that every time he peers your way, he catches you gaping at him like a lovesick puppy, but there’s something about Logan you can’t quite put your finger on. The man heats your blood like nothing you’ve ever experienced before, maybe it’s that torch you’ve carried for him since girlhood, maybe it’s the thick thighs you’d kill to ride – who can say for sure?
In what you assume is against his better judgement, he comes to perch on the booth beside you. His broad shoulders cast an imposing figure as he gets close enough that if you were to move your hand a couple of inches to the right, you’d finally be able to touch that yellow fabric that plagued your tween dreams.
You’re burning up at the thought of him, unable to stop yourself you part your legs slightly to ease some of the pressure. Logans nose twitches, his head swivels your way and his eyes catch your own.
Welp - at least you have your answer about him smelling your arousal.
Deciding that you were most likely verging on sexual harassment charges you decided to focus back in on the task at hand, gagging once again at another spoonful of spam.
“Be a good girl and swallow, Y/N/N, you know the rules!” Wade jokes, your chortle was your only response. What could you say? He always hit your funny bone despite the ocean that was raging in your panties.
Logan stares at Wade for a long moment before turning to your way and addressing you for maybe only the fourth time today?
“What are you doing with this fucking clown? You his sidekick? Following him round to laugh at his stupid fucking jokes whilst he gets kids killed?”
“Why I have never.” Wade is faux outraged at his words, clutching his imaginary pearls as the Wolverine throws around accusations that aren’t entirely untrue.
The Wolverine’s expression remains stern as his eyes track your face. They seem to be evaluating your character and from the flare in his nose and crease in his brow you can guess he finds you lacking. You’re embarrassed to admit how much that deflates you, so you do what you do best; you deflect.
“I could follow you around and laugh at your jokes instead, if you like?” When you speak your voice has a sultry edge to it and there’s no mistaking your intentions.
Logan seems to think on your proposition for a second or two, before he huffs grabs his rubbing alcohol and unopened can of Spam and heads over to sit at the bar.
“Holy hot ham and cheese on rye, Y/N, you fucking slut.” Wade berates you though his voice is as light as it’s always been as he boots your shin under the table. “Trying to your holes filled by Wolvie during a world saving mission, Marvel H Christ, stay on fucking task!”
You swear you hear Logan mutter a Jesus Christ from the bar.
Though as Wade continues irritating the hero hunched against bar, you can’t help the realisation that he didn’t say no.
“You’re uh… well regarded in our world.” Wade complements, being real doesn’t come easy to him. You appreciate the effort.
“Well, I’m not shit in mine.”
“I tried to join the X-Men because of you.” You speak up finally joining their conversation. Wolverine’s back goes rigid, but he doesn’t respond. You’re not sure if he’s waiting for you to continue or hoping you’ll stop. “You made a difference to this world, made me think I could do the same. I just never quite make the cut.”
Logan doesn’t seem to have a response.
It seems your words have an effect as you catch him watching you more often. When Wade makes his jokes, he looks to you for validation of his withering looks.
You’re probably more distracted by this revelation than you should be when the three of you come across a real nasty variant of Colossus seeking out Wade for… you want to say… revenge?
The not-so-gentle-anymore-giant flips the Honda and tosses both Wade and Logan through the treeline as they advance on him as if they were little more than toys his mother had asked him to pick up.
One by one your bullets ricochet from his metal skin as he comes towards you. You aren’t built for this fight; you are completely and utterly outmatched.
All you’re doing at this point is buying yourself some time for your backup to pull themselves from the rubble, however during a particularly spirited cartwheel the metal oaf finally gets his hands on you. Colossus’ metal palm is cold on your throat, and you could swear you hear your neck snapping before you feel it.
With a gasp you return to life to find a slightly dishevelled Logan standing above you. By the grace of god, his sleeves have been worn away in the fight, his arms, oh sweet lord, his arms are on full display.
“Thought you were a goner.” He offers you a hand when you simply stare mutely his way. Locking your fingers around his wrist he pulls you to your feet. You don’t release your hold on him and neither does he.
“Don’t throw the party just yet, eh?” You joke weakly, for a second you could swear there’s a slight raise of the corner of his mouth, imperceptible, if you didn’t know what you were looking for. In the past few hours you had become an expert on Wolverine’s face.
Your mouth is dry as you take in his thick sweat laden biceps.
“Where’s Wade?” You query whilst rolling your aching neck as you haven’t heard his voice in a record thirty seconds, Logan suddenly remembers himself and drops your hand.
“’fraid Metal man took your clown, was pissed with him and can’t say I blame the guy.”
“Shit.” You sigh rubbing your temples as you kneel to pick up the dismembered arm of your best friend. “Well – fuck. That’ll take him a few hours at least to grow back – He’ll be so sad about his suit.”
You peel the fabric from the limb and tuck it under the breast plate of your own suit. Wade will want his glove back when it grows back.
“He say where he was taking him?”
“Oh yeah, that along with his plan for world domination...” Logan huffs as if your mere presence annoys him.
“Thought you didn’t like sarcasm.”
“I like sarcasm just fine, Bub. It’s you I don’t like.” You can’t help but smile his way at the comment made at your expense, his brows crease. “You’re a strange one.”
“Can you do your sniffy thing?” Its impressive, you thought he’d reached the limit with his scathing looks towards Wade, yet he somehow manages to pull a deeper frown out the vault especially for you.
“Sniffy thing?” His words are spoken with such derision, it turns you on a little. You realise that perhaps you are in fact a deeply troubled individual.
“Oh, sorry.” You pretend to clear a frog in your throat. “Please, oh, please, beautiful, handsome Wolverine, please can you locate my bestest pal with your heightened sense of smell?” His face doesn’t break despite your hands clasped in front of your chin.
“You’re just as fucking annoying as that moron.” He huffs “Get in the fucking car, we’ll follow his trail.”
“You can smell him from the car?”
“The blood, Jesus Fucking Christ, there’s a trail of blood.”
“Ah.” Is all you reply as you find your seat in the passenger side and start your own one on one team up with Wolverine. Its not exactly the way you imagined it, but beggars certainly can’t be choosers.
After a few moments of sullen silence, you decide that there’s no time like the present to form a long-lasting bond.
“What’s your world like?”
“None of your fucking business.”
“Okay... What’s the first thing you’re gonna’ do if they can save your world? I bet its something boring as fuck, like team-“
“What did you just say?”
“I bet you’re gonna do something boring like-“
“No before that.”
“What’s the first thing you’re gonna’ do if they save your world?” You question, his sudden interest in your words takes you by surprise as he has been vacant from your conversation.
The breaks suddenly shriek as the car comes to a stop.
“What do you mean if?”
“I…”
“You said they could fix my world. Undo it all, is what you fucking said.”
“I mean I think they can!”
“You fucking liar.” The edge to The Wolverine’s voice is terrifying. The realisation trickles down your spine, Logan has been nice to you all this time, you’re finally meeting The Wolverine.
“I didn’t lie!” For some reason you’re ashamed of your deceit, you’ve murdered countless people and still, you’ve felt less remorse. Logan’s eyes pin you in your seat as disgust clouds his face. It hurts more than you can fathom. “Not exactly, I think they can fix your world! – I needed your help and if you killed Wade there was no hope for my universe!”
“I don’t give a flying fuck about your universe!” He spits your way; his hands are gripping the wheel in what seems like an effort to keep his cool.
“I know, but I do!” You cry back at him. “You know how to save the world, you’re the fucking Wolverine! I know how to kill people, but this hero shit, this isn’t me!”
“Ha! No shit.” There is pure hate in the man’s eyes as he stares back at you.
“Please, you’re Logan. Whether you’re the worst one or not - You’re still better than me.”
“Get out of the fucking car.” The words come from between clenched teeth and are filled with warning.
“No – fuck you.” Your rage breaks the banks to meet Logan’s. Perhaps it’s the guilt, maybe it’s the fear for Wade but something within you snaps at his constant bad temper. “It was an educated guess and a fucking reasonable one at that, get the fuck over yourself you big bird wannabe geriatric fucker! “
He slams his palms on the steering wheel, his nose flares and his teeth clamp together. “Fuck me? Fuck you – you sad pathetic excuse for a side-kick. No wonder the X-Men wouldn’t take you, and they’ll take fuckin’ anyone. You are a ridiculous, immature, moron who spends her days following around a fucking clown to avoid facing the reality that you are no one. I have never met a sadder, more attention starved asshole in my entire life. You were right about one thing, you’re no fucking hero.”
Its shameful the way your stomach drops, and your eyes involuntarily begin to tear. To hear your hero say the words you’ve thought about yourself whilst laying awake at night. It’s a knife to the gut.
“Nothing to fucking say, huh, Angel?” The use of Wade’s nickname for you is like sandpaper on your skin, it rubs you the wrong fucking way.
“I am going to hurt you now.” Your voice is barely a broken whisper.
“You’re going to hurt – “His faux chortle is cut short by a swift punch to his face. You’re worried you may have been overzealous with your swing when his nose begins bleeding. The Wolverine is stunned for only a moment before he grabs the back of your neck and proceeds with smashing your face into the dashboard and those concerns are quickly put to bed.
The old fucker is strong, but you don’t think he’ll kill you, yet another educated wish.
“Not so tough now…” He shouts as the radio channels change with your skull. Pulling a knife from your leg strap you embed it in his thigh and pull the lever to recline your seat whilst he’s distracted, luckily, you’re not there when he swings for retribution.
Though one of his fucking steak knives catches your upper arm slicing through the leather. Warm blood trickles down your arm, staining the beige interior of the poor Honda.
Your legs are your strongest asset, so when he attempts to restrain you with the seatbelt, you are presented with your window of opportunity. You wrap them around his neck as you pivot your hips slamming the Wolverine headfirst into the metal of the door. Once, twice, three times - on the fourth he lands a fist to your gut, luckily, he has retracted his claws.
If he was willing to kill you, you wouldn’t stand a chance.
You’re winded struggling to catch your breath from the gut punch, but you manage pull the knife from his thigh that is nestled between your legs and thrust it into his neck, you aim for the spot you’d fantasied about kissing before he’d torn your character apart piece by piece, now you just want to bathe in his fucking blood.
It was the pain that instantaneously made his claws extend. He’s quick to move them, though he slices through the sides of your suit as he buries them in the chair behind you. Your ribs are a bloodied mess though you don’t care, in a few hours they’ll be good as new.
Logan has seized the opportunity and has your arms pinned to your sides, his blood has cooled a little more than yours, he doesn’t seem to want to murder you over an argument.
Perhaps he’s more well-adjusted than yourself, that thought alone should concern you, except it just enrages you further.
“You stupid fuckin-“The Wolverine starts admonishing you, before you swing your head forward and headbutt him.
Yes.
You really do that.
You headbutt the man with the adamantium fucking skeleton– at full strength. Its sheer dumb luck you don’t crack your own skull in the process– maybe Logan was right, you are fucking dumb.
“Fucking fuck!” You cry grabbing your forehead and writhing. Noone wins with a headbutt, except Logan apparently.
“Fucking stop that.” Your writhing has pushed your core against his crotch, and he is already packing quite the heat at what feels like half-mast. He grabs your hips to stop your movement, but it only seems to push you closer. “Stop fucking moving.”
The constant arousal you’ve felt since meeting him returns in double time, Logan’s nostrils flare and his eyes darken. It’s debased and you’re ashamed that you want him, you haven’t stopped wanting him, despite the awful fucking words that left his mouth minutes ago.
“Like … a little pain Wolvie?”
Its relief you feel, you think, when instead of answering or punching you in the face, he closes the gap.
The Wolverine’s claws retract, and he grabs at your chin. Logan’s mouth utterly devours your own, your front tooth clashes with his own as you push yourself upwards, you pull your knife out of his neck, catching his grunt of pain on your tongue as you begin licking your way down his thick throat.
The vein you’d spotted hours ago is throbbing freshly healed, you sink your canines into the flesh and its as good as you’d fucking imagine. His groan is utterly beast-like as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him.
The Wolverine’s throat tastes like salt and iron. Thick, tangy and warm on your tongue as you soothe the bite. It drives Logan wild, thrusting his hardened member against your warmth. One of his gloved hands rises to lock on the back of your neck to pull you into yet another earth-shattering kiss. His sharp hot tongue slides against your own, exploring the expanses of your mouth like its his to claim.
You bite at him again then, your teeth catching his bottom lip sharply. Logan groans into your mouth before you use every ounce of your enhanced strength to throw him backwards against the dashboard.
He is taken utterly by surprise as his head slams into the windscreen cracking the glass with a grunt. When he looks your way Logan’s eyes are blackened with desire, he is utterly wild.
Slowly as if afraid to make any sudden moves, you unzip your combat boots, your eyes never leaving his. One boot and then the next.
You thank the TVA’s tailor for making your suit a two piece as you shuffle backwards into the backseat, pushing the thick leather down your legs all whilst maintaining eye contact with the beast leaning against the dashboard.
“You sure you want this Darlin’?”
“Darlin’?” You question mockingly, your voice lowering to imitate his own, as you wantonly spread your legs, your bare leg resting next to the headrest. Only a pair of black cotton panties separate him from your most intimate parts and his eyes are locked on your clothed core. “a second ago it was ‘Pathetic Moron’ to you.”
Your head tilts in question as his eyes lock back on your own, you think perhaps for a moment something akin to regret passes over his face, but you’ve never been entirely comfortable with feelings, so you drop your hand into the waistband of your panties, you’ve barely circled your opening with your pointer finger before he’s on you.
“That’s my job, you fucking Moron.” He plunges two bare thick fingers into your heat. Gasping you throw your head back against the headrest, it’s a tight fit and its been a while but the slight burn eases some of the aching in your core. “You’re fuckin’ soaking wet, you like it huh, bub? Making me bleed?”
Your grab his jaw, your nails digging into his flesh. “I’d like to bathe in-” He scissors his fingers finding that spot inside you and you let out an embarrassing noise, somewhere between a gasp and a moan. “-Your fucking blood… you mean motherfucker.”
You’re an absolute goner when he starts rubbing your clit, after a day of foreplay your body seizes, and you grab at the nape of his neck trying to find something to anchor you down. But as fast as the build was you come tumbling down just as quickly, when he cruelly withdraws his hands.
“No! - Wha- what the fuck?!” You’re almost crying as your torn from the precipice.
Logan flips you over onto your stomach before you can complain any further, your face down on the filthy upholstery as he pulls your panties from your hips. You can’t see him from this angle, though you can feel his warm hands tracing the globes of your ass.
You force your knees further apart, pushing your bare soaking pussy against the tight bulge of his yellow suit. If you had enough of your facilities about you, you’d be embarrassed that you’re currently rubbing your cunt against The Wolverine like a bitch in heat after he’d chewed you out only minutes ago.
Logan’s hand dip between your thighs, his fingers swirl along your hole, dragging your wetness along to your aching clit.
“You think I’d make it that easy?” He asks as he continues the journey back and forth. On the second pass he dips his finger inside of you for a fraction of a second before resuming its path. “What do you want, darlin’?”
You weren’t going to beg, in fact you bit your tongue to stop the traitorous words from forming, this man had already made you abandon most of your self-respect, he wasn’t having this.
“Logan…” At your breathy words the man leans forward, pressing his fabric covered cock into your ass as he folds his body over yours. One hand comes down next to your shoulder, the other explore your tits as he rocks himself into your throbbing core. It’s the perfect storm as he nuzzles into your exposed throat but somehow you manage your words. “Fuck me or don’t, I’m not begging, bub.”
He exhales through his nose in what you guess is equal parts amusement and annoyance, but you’re far beyond caring. He places a bite on the spot where your throat meets your shoulder as his body pulls back. Momentarily his hands leave your hips to deal with his own pants. You hear the clank of his belt hitting the car floor moments before you feel the head of his cock, running along your folds.
The head of his cock is thick, and it feels hot to the touch as he runs it along your slick. All of a sudden Logan pushes forward and sheathes himself inside of you with a single thrust.
You try your best to hold in your incoherent moans but to little avail as he pulls back before slamming full force back into you. If you were a human woman, your pelvis would’ve shattered from the force of his hips against your ass, instead you gather your strength and push back, allowing him deeper. The both of you moan in unison at the depth he reaches.
You grab onto the foam of the seat, ripping through the fabric with your bare hands desperate for an anchor as Logan unforgivingly pounds into you from behind, once again he folds his body over yours, wrapping a palm around your clawed fingers.
“.” He grunts something incoherent into your ear as he picks up the pace, slamming into you repeatedly, slowly picking up his pace. Your core is positively aching as you throb around him, pulling him deeper within you. If you were expecting any further explanation, you’re sorely disappointed.
The wolverine pulls back, gripping at your hips keeping you still as he resumes his powerful strokes. Logan’s hand dips to your clit, rubbing quick circles sending you barrelling back towards your orgasm. As you begin to clench around him, he pulls your body upwards, his head brushing against the top of the car as he holds you against him his fingers never leaving your clit.
“Come on my cock, Angel.” Unable to stop yourself you clench around him, hearing him talk like that does something primal to you.
You fucking loved Logan’s mouth, you bet he ate pussy like a champion if he played the clit this fucking well.
You stopped fighting it and threw yourself from the cliff, shattering in his thick muscle veined arms as he held you up against him, his cock still viciously plundering your depths.
“You’re so fucking tight.” He whispers against your neck whispers peppering it with bites.
Logan gives you a few moments to come down from your high before he resumes his punishing pace, you think perhaps you’ve reached your limit of pleasure, that the threshold can’t possibly be topped until he whispers into your ear in that gruff voice.
“What was it Wilson said? Filling all your holes?” The Wolverine asks, his eyes meet yours over your shoulder meaningfully, asking permission as he offers you his thumb. You merely moan your approval and wantonly draw his finger into your mouth, soaking the pad in saliva.
Logan yanks your head into a vicious kiss. It’s a messy one, filled to the brim with need. The hand not currently locked on your neck holding your face to his, travels down your back, through the valley of your bodies. The pad of his pinky runs appreciatively over the globe of your ass, before his hand dips into the crease.
Logan’s thumb runs teasingly against the tight ring of muscle, it’s a foreign experience which makes you startle slightly.
“Anyone ever fucked you here?” He asks as he bites down your neck, delicately pushing you forward until your head rests on the backseat. You shake your head as your eyes close, his cock is buried balls deep within you as he plays with your asshole.
When his thumb finally breaches your tight hole just past the nail, he begins his thrusts once more. His cock fills your pussy from behind and suddenly you feel so fucking full, Its far too much for you.
“Fuck… Logan.” You gasp almost on the verge of tears as pounds you into the back seat. It seems the ass play has gotten to him more than expected, as his pace has increases.
“Where?” He asks breathless from the exertion as he pulls his thumbs from your ass and takes a handful of the meat on your hips.
“Inside…. Please … Logan.” You practically beg though you’ll never admit it, his rhythm becomes stunted as his hips slam into the back of your thighs.
“Give me something tight to come in, Darlin’.” Moaning at his words you’re eager to obey as you reach your hand between your own legs and rub mercilessly at your clit. The unforgiving pounding, the grunting and the fingers currently bruising your hips and the burning of your now vacant ass send you sailing over the edge.
You clamp down on him like a vice, groaning unable to hold back your whimpers anymore as he finally bites your neck and pumps his seed deep inside you as far as it can go. Logan grunts like a beast as he pulses deep inside of you.
Logan collapses beside you. Dents in the interior of the van you don’t even remember making have appeared from where a stray elbow or knee has hit the metal in the throes of passion.
The Wolverine tucks his cock back in his suit. Ever the gentleman, he uses your black panties to wipe away the cum dripping from your thighs, you haven’t got the heart to tell him that when you’re commando redressed in your suit that you can still feel him dripping from you, your pussy uncomfortably slick against the leather.
After dressing, the two of you sit in contemplative silence. Neither one of you has the emotional complexity to discuss what happened and neither one of you will accept fault for your argument that led to it, so, silence reigns.
The tension is sliced in two as Logan leans forward and pushes an errant lock of hair behind your ear in an act so goddamn endearing, you melt. You still wouldn’t apologise for lying, because you didn’t lie but you can meet him a quarter of the way.
“I’m sorry for calling you geriatric.” You whisper catching his eyes, a small spark of humour leaps into them, you’ve seen more emotions from your hero in the past half an hour than you knew he was capable of.
“I shouldn’t have-“ Logan’s heartfelt apology is cut off by the lead of this goddamn story.
“Well, well, well. Would you look at this, My best friends, Ha! I get fucking kidnapped, an arm ripped off and you’re nowhere to be found? I thought don’t worry Wade, they won’t leave you, Y/N/N will come around that corner any second."
Wade has appeared through the passenger side window; he looks a little worse for wear and has a child’s arm growing from his stump, its kind of gross to look at.
"What if Colossus had had his way with me? What then Y/N? I expect this from Wolvie, but not from you! No, no heroic rescue for old Deadpool. I have to save myself because you fuckers are too busy playing hide the adamantium bone! Thanks for nothing guys. Now the car has old man sex stank to it, as if this hunk of shit Honda could get any worse!”
#deadpool#wolverine deadpool#wolverine x reader#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#james howlett x reader#worst logan#logan howlett x you#wolverine smut#wolverine x you#graphics by saradika
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𝚂𝙴𝙲𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚂
description: ona was finally where she had dreamed, she was back at barcelona with her best friend and loving every moment. only problem? she's dating her captain's younger sister, you.
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ona batlle x putellas!reader
part of the 'hidden' universe
part two here
part three here
mapi leon x bronze!reader here
disclaimer: this is all fiction do not take any of this seriously !
warnings: swearing, slightly suggestive - cuteness, queenie needing to use google translate because her Spanish is sub par! x
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y/n just posted
liked by alexiaputellas, taylorswift, and 13.9m others
y/n life dumppppp 💕💕
comments limited
alexiaputellas: Estoy muy orgulloso de ti hermanita!
so proud of you baby sister
^
y/n: ily !! 💕
lucybronze: The little one of me says you're cool!
^
y/n: tell her I miss her! 😔
blanca_suarez: my little daughter! 🙂
^
y/n: my movie mama!! 😙
florencepugh: I wanna see the photos of after you did that jump
^
y/n: shut up 😩
^
florencepugh: no
^
y/n: I'll fight you Flo
^
florencepugh: come at me pipsqueak !!
ona.batlle: Looks like fun ! 😌
^
y/n: Would be more fun with you here ;)
^
alexiaputellas: y/n, no flirting with my teammates.
^
y/n: awwww :(
MariaLeonn16: MISS YOU ! 💙
^
y/n: MISS BAGHEERA MORE 💙
^
MariaLeonn16: hmmpf.
see more comments...
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y/n hummed as she stepped around her kitchen, her fluffy socks keeping her feet warm from the cold tile, which was cold as she couldn't be bothered to put the heated floor on.
Her Persian cat, Milo, rubbed against her feet and she smiled, bending down to pick him up and press a kiss to his fluffy head before placing him back down.
y/n then moved over to the bowl of food she had ordered, smiling when her phone lit up with the familiar name which kept her warm for almost a year now.
"Hi baby!" y/n smiles, her Spanish accent not as thick as it used to be when she spoke English.
y/n had been in England for a few years now, on and off, and due to the fact she mainly spoke in English and acted with either English or Americans, y/n's accent had dulled slightly.
"Hola!" Ona called back.
The two had been secretly dating for nearly a year now. Why secretly? Because Ona's captain was Alexia Putellas. Alexia Putellas was y/n's sister. Her over-protective older sister.
The two were aware they were nothing short of fucked. They were aware of that. But the two had fallen in love while Ona was playing in Manchester and at the time, they couldn't keep away.
Now, their relationship existed of long phone calls and sneaky hook-ups when y/n came to see her as best she could, as well as trying to avoid flashing cameras and nosy people.
Truth is the only other person to know about them was Lucy Bronze's younger sister, and that was only because Ona and her were best friends and she was dating Mapi Leon in secret as well. They really were a group.
"How was training?" y/n asks Ona as she settles on the sofa, propping the phone up on a few cushions as she bought her bowl of noodles toward her.
"Aburrida, todo en lo que estaba pensando era en ti mi amor." Ona sighs and y/n chuckles.
Boring. All I was thinking about was you my love.
"Eres tan romántica!" y/n laughs at her girlfriend.
you're such a romantic.
"Do not pretend you do not love it, mi amor." Ona says and y/n hums.
"Well, I do love feeling the way you make me feel." y/n sighs jokingly and Ona's smile widens. "But, you should be paying attention in training." y/n finishes and Ona huffs.
"Ay! You are worse than Ale!" Ona states and y/n sighs. "What are you eating?" Ona then asks, trying to get the focus off of Alexia.
"Wagamama." y/n grinned, Milo jumping next to her and curling onto the sofa, his head resting on y/n's thigh.
"Milo." Ona cooed, the cat looking up and letting out a small meow as he blinked at Ona.
"Look, it's mama Milo." y/n says softly, placing her fork down to stroke at the cat's head. Ona smiles softly as Milo meows, Ona chuckling as she moves to get Coco, her own dog who pants excitedly at the sight of Milo.
Despite being and cat and a dog the two pets got on like siblings and y/n couldn't help but smile as Milo purred at the sight of his sibling.
The two facetimed for the rest of the evening, settling into bed a few hours later, both watching each other on their screens, wishing they were face to face instead of watching through a camera.
"What are you thinking about Amor?" Ona asks softly, noticing y/n had gone quiet.
"Quiero contarle a Ale sobre nosotras." y/n said quickly.
I want to tell Ale about us.
"¿Cómo? No no no no no." Ona begins and y/n sighs.
what?
"I know you're afraid." y/n begins. "¡Pero cariño, por favor! No puedo ocultar esto más."
But darling please, I can't hide this anymore.
"But Alexia!" Ona tries.
"I'll talk to her! Explain everything." y/n tries and Ona pauses. "Please Ona, I'm so sick of us hiding." She begs softly.
"Okay. Okay." Ona promises. "Por ti, mi amor, enfrentaré la tormenta Alexia por ti." She nods and a soft smile grows on y/n's face.
For you, my love, I will brave the storm Alexia for you.
"Thank you." y/n whispers. "I love you Ona." She promises and Ona smiles.
"I love you too amor." Ona promises.
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y/n just posted on her story
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y/n smiled softly as she opened Alexia's apartment with her spare key. Now on international break, the Barcelona captain was at home resting before having to go to national camp in three days.
At the sound of her door opening, Alexia stood up, pausing the most recent Barcelona game she was re-watching for notes and faced her door worriedly before her mouth dropped.
"¡Niñera!" Alexia called in shock.
Baby sister
"Hola Ale!" y/n called, pulling her suitcase to a stop as Alexia raced over. The taller girl pulling her into a tight hug which made y/n chuckle as she returned it.
"¿Qué estás haciendo aquí?" Alexia asked. "Ven, siéntate, ¿tienes hambre, sed?" Alexia rapidly questioned making y/n smile as her sister dragged her to the sofa.
What are you doing here? Come sit down, are you hungry, thirsty?
"Estoy bien, vine a ver los partidos de la liga de naciones." y/n explains.
I'm fine, I came to watch the nation league games.
Alexia makes a noise of understanding as she leans over and presses kisses over y/n's face, exclaiming how happy she was to see her and how beautiful she looked.
y/n laughed it off, telling her she was always too flattering to her, Alexia saying it was what an older sister did. The statement wracking y/n with guilt.
"Ale." y/n began. Alexia looking at her with furrowed brows, confused at her sister's shift in tone.
"Are you okay?" Alexia asks softly.
"I'm dating someone." y/n spills out. "And, hemos estado saliendo durante más de un año." y/n admits.
And we've been dating over a year.
"Oh." Alexia says softly, eyes softening as her sister ducks her head, fiddling with her fingers. "It's okay." She promises.
"Even if I hid it?" y/n asks quietly.
"I would like you to explain why for so long and who, but yes it is okay." Alexia promises.
"The who kind of explains the why." y/n admits and Alexia pauses. "Ale." She begins.
"Who?" She asks, though it was far more a demand. She repeats her demand.
"Ona." y/n says ducking her head.
"Hijo de puta." Alexia mutters.
motherfucker
y/n sighed, leaning forward and putting her head in her hands and her shoulders sagged. Her heart felt as if it was pushing into her throat and it made her sick.
y/n and Alexia had been close as children, the three sisters were best friends, and knew each other too well. They told each other everything, to the point where this would be the first time she had ever lied to either sister.
And even though she felt terrible for upsetting her older sister, for betraying her, there was something so relieving about finally admitting it.
Slowly, Alexia reached out and place a hand on y/n's shoulder, her warm and calloused palm so much kinder than what y/n felt she deserved as she looked up.
"No puedo negarlo y decir que no estoy herido, porque lo estoy. Preferiría que me lo hubieras dicho, pero entiendo que no quieras." Alexia begins, her voice soft.
I cannot deny and say I am not hurt, because I am. I would rather you had told me, but I understand you not wanting to.
y/n could have cried as she closed her eyes, feeling so guilty at hurting her sister with something that she couldn't have helped.
"¿La amas?" Alexia asked, her eyes full of understanding and kindness which calmed y/n's heart.
Do you love her?
"Más de lo que creía posible Ale. Ella lo es todo para mí, de verdad." y/n admits to her sister who lets out a sigh at the emotion in her voice.
More than I thought possible Ale. She's everything to me, truly.
Alexia sighed and wrapped her arm around y/n's shoulders, pulling her into her side as she lent her head onto y/n's own one, inhaling the smell of her shampoo.
"Entonces de acuerdo." Alexia sighs softly.
Then okay.
y/n's heart broke at that, how one person could be so good to her was beyond her thought, beyond her idea of humanity, but Alexia had once again, proved her wrong.
"Eres demasiado amable conmigo, eres demasiado amable conmigo." y/n repeats at her sister.
You are too kind to me, you are too kind to me.
"Esto no es bondad, esto es familia." Alexia says to her and y/n sighs.
This is not kindness, this is family.
The girl turns, wrapping her arms around her sister as she pulls herself snugly on-top of Alexia, clinging to her shoulders as she pressed kisses into the woman's hair.
"Thank you Ale." y/n said softly, repeating the words again and again.
"Oh mi pequeña princesa del drama. Eres tan mayor ahora." Alexia said softly.
Oh my little drama princess. You are so grown up now.
y/n said nothing, just continued to cling to Alexia as if she was 6 all over again and Alexia 14. The Barcelona captain couldn't help but enjoy the closeness.
It had been so long since they had hugged like this, the youngest Putellas always so busy, always moving, working and filming.
Eventually the two parted and Alexia sighed tucking a strand of her sister's hair behind her ear as she watched her.
"Do you and Ona plan to tell?" Alexia asks and y/n hums.
"I want to tell your team first, then we can think about everything else." y/n sighs. "Are you mad at her?" She then asks with a wince.
"Oh furious." Alexia nods, a smile on her face to show she wasn't really. "She treats you well?" She then asks and y/n smiles softly.
"She loves me just as I do her." y/n answers and Alexia smiles.
"So she loves you well." Alexia says and y/n nods. "Do you want to see her?" She asks and y/n hums.
"Tomorrow." y/n says before snuggling into her sister's side. "I want to spend the night with you." She says.
"I love that idea." Alexia sighs, pressing a kiss into her sister's hair.
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Tomorrow came far too quick for y/n's liking, before she knew it she was stood at Ona's door, flowers in hand as she waited for the patter of her lover's footsteps to open the door.
"¡Mi amor!" Ona yelled in shock, dragging y/n inside so no prying eyes could see.
y/n's hair was up in a bun, she was wearing a sweet summer dress due to how hot it was outside, however she also had shorts on underneath, because she knew what could happen once Ona knew they were out.
Ona smiled softly, taking the flowers from y/n's hands and placing them on the counter, before jumping at y/n. The woman sighed in relief, bringing Ona's legs around her waist as she wrapped her arms tightly around her.
"Oh my love." y/n said softly, breathing in the sweet scent of Ona's hair.
Ona buried her head into y/n's neck, pressing soft kisses against the skin which had y/n breathing shaking as she walked them to the sofa, sliding her shoes off as she went.
Coco immediately moved over to one of her discarded trainers and stuck his head in it, inhaling which made y/n roll her eyes at the dog fondly.
y/n sat back against the sofa, Ona quickly looking up and greedily connecting their lips, hands scattering around each other's bodies, re-familiarising themselves.
Ona's tongue dipped past y/n's lips, sweeping the inside of her mouth which caused a groan to slip from her. Ona giggled into the kiss, before they pulled away, both breathing deeply as they stared at one another.
Ona was in a white shirt, black shorts, her hair was pulled back and she looked like she had woken up just an hour ago. And to y/n, she had never looked more beautiful.
All their time apart meant these moment, Ona sat on her lap, hands combing over her shoulders lovingly, were all that more precious to y/n.
"How are you here?" Ona asked her softly, leaning forward to cuddle into her chest as y/n wraps her arms around her.
"He venido a ver los partidos." y/n explains softly.
I've come to watch the games.
"I'm so glad you're here." Ona sighs in relief, y/n holding onto her as she sighs.
"I have a confession Ona." y/n says softly and Ona sits up, y/n moving her off her lap and to the side she could face her.
"Amor?" Ona asks, worry flooding her voice.
"Ale knows." y/n says simply. "I told her." She adds.
Ona's face goes through several emotions, relief that this wasn't a break-up, fear of Alexia knowing, realisation that her captain was no aware and hurt that y/n hadn't warned her she would tell Alexia like that.
"Why?" Ona asks sadly.
"Because I want to be with you. In front of her." y/n says strongly and Ona's eyes fill with panic. "It's like we discussed Oni, please." y/n tries.
"Get out." She says softly. "Please go." Ona repeats.
"You said you would fight for me." y/n said softly.
"You didn't give me time to prepare." Ona tells her. "Alexia is my captain, and I am with her little sister, and instead of telling her together, you decided to tell her on you own." Ona continues.
"Because I knew I could keep her calm about us." y/n promises and Ona sighs.
"Please go. I need some time." Ona says softly and y/n blinks away tears before standing up and walking to the door, expecting Ona to call out, stop her. But she doesn't.
And y/n's heart breaks.
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END
Mapi part one will be out in three days ;) xox
#woso#woso x reader#woso x y/n#social media woso#woso community#woso soccer#fc barcelona femeni#fc barcelona#barcelona femeni#barca femeni#barca#fc barca#mapi leon#ona batlle#ona batlle imagines#ona batlle x y/n#keira walsh#mariona caldentey#aitana bonmati#ona batlle x reader#woso imagine#ingrid engen#alexia putellas#lucy bronze
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Weakness- M. Sturniolo
pairing: fem!reader x FWB!Matt
classification: slight angst, smut
inspiration: submission for @annamcdonalds67 ‘s writer’s challenge, American Jesus by Nessa Barrett
warnings: 18+, MDNI, literal sex, slight cursing, no use of Y/n, mention of smoking
summary: You fight your inner desires, but ultimately let your weakness consume you.
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You pull your skirt up quickly, jumping to get the fabric past your thighs. Matt watches from his bed, his body slumped against the headboard as he lazily pulls a cigarette to his lips. His lips form a smirk as you fumble to get yourself together, his eyes trained on the way your ass jiggles against the fabric of your pleated uniform. Even though you two clearly just finished, an erection grows in his boxers at the mere sight in front of him. His hands flick a lighter over the cigarette, inhaling once it’s lit.
Everything about what you just did —what you've been doing— with Matt is wrong. He’s your best friend's brother; the second you admitted that you had a crush on him you should’ve distanced yourself. Instead, you let yourself cross an unforgivable boundary with him time and time again.
There are so many reasons why this relationship is wrong. First, you’re the cheer captain who’s never been caught with so much as a wrinkle on your uniform. Second, you’re at the top of your class and have never brought home a grade lower than an A. Third, you’re popular and if anyone were to find you with a bad boy like Matt, even if it was just your best friend Nick, your perfect reputation would surely be tainted forever.
“See you next week, sweetheart,” he murmurs, each word being followed by a puff of smoke. He catches your attention through the mirror, throwing a playful wink your way that has you rolling your eyes.
“No, you will not see me next week. This was the last time, Matt,” you retorted, trying to sound confident, but even you struggle to believe your own words. You tug your shirt over your head, fluffing your hair over your shoulders as you examine yourself in the mirror. The school’s logo stairs back at you, reminding you of the reality of your situation, of everything that was at stake.
He’s got lips like cherry wine and cigarette smoke on his breath. He’s got pretty long brown hair, blue eyes that look like sex.
You’re a mess.
Your lipstick is painted across your cheek, your hair remains tangled no matter how many times you run your fingers through it, mascara forms dark circles under your eyes, and hickeys litter every inch of your neck.
Not that he looks any better. His lips are equally as stained as yours and his long, brown hair falls past his eyes.
“You said that last week,” he smirks, the sultry undertone in his voice causing your knees to buckle. He knows that he has you, but he wants you to pledge your allegiance to him one last time before you go.
“I mean it this time,” you say, but your voice trembles; a clear sign of your resolve breaking, and this was no time to give in. There was still time for you to walk out with even a little bit of your dignity. All you had to do was walk out, get in your car, and leave. But some things are easier said than done.
Instead, you go on a nervous ramble. “You probably don’t care, but if anyone were to find out about this– If Nick were to find out about this, I’d be the worst friend ever. And I have so many cheer scholarships lined up too, Matt. I can’t let my grades slip, if I get anything below an A they could take those away. Do you know what my parents would do to me if I lost those scholarships? What they’d do to me if it was all over a boy?” your words are coming out a mile a minute, each insecurity and doubt going in one of Matt’s ears and coming out the other.
“Do you even care?”
It’s not that he didn’t care, he just preferred it when your mouth was occupied with other things instead. Matt takes a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke in your direction. It curls around your figure, lassoing you towards him slowly. He wasn’t good with words, so he’s glad that your body gravitates towards him like second nature.
“This is the last time….” your voice trails off as you fall into Matt’s trance.
Before you know it, you’re crawling over to him and your body has managed to fit perfectly against his. Eager hands fall onto his chest, earning a satisfied hum from him because he knows he won.
Matt takes one last drag of the cigarette, holding the smoke in his lungs as he dabs the bud onto the ashtray that sits on his nightstand. His hands instinctively pull your face in by the back of your neck, latching his lips onto yours and allowing the smoke to dissolve into the kiss. You used to hate the smell of cigarettes, but now even the taste is addicting.
“If you want me to stop, just say the word,” Matt instructs, his piercing blue eyes clouded with lust as he watches you intently. Your mind is telling you to stop, to grab your things and leave before anyone can notice you, but the aching feeling that grows under your skirt keeps you planted.
“That’s what I thought,” he chuckles, watching you internally battle with yourself. The comment makes you feel weak and small, but you’re chasing a euphoric feeling that helps you see past that.
Matt’s lips trail down your jawline, finding the sensitive spots on your neck that are already lined with bruises and bite marks. He sucks on a spot that always makes you whimper, simultaneously bunching your skirt up against your waist.
He delivers a swift slap to your ass cheek, painting your skin a bright shade of red. “Matt,” your voice is strained against the kiss, but he knows exactly what you want. Your hands travel from his chest down to his boxers, teasing fingers tracing the outline of his erection. He kisses his teeth at the sensation, pulling away from your neck briefly to watch your perfectly manicured hand cup his clothed penis.
It would be easy for Matt to submit to you, but where was the fun in that?
Knees down at your altar. Please don’t fail me now.
“On your knees, Princess.”
It’s a command that you’re used to, one that you follow without complaint. You wiggle into the carpet, your knees accustomed to the rough feeling that meets them. “Beautiful,” he hums. His body towers over yours, ready to watch you worship and praise the entirety of his shaft.
You look up at him through hooded eyes, asking for permission to proceed. He grants it to you with a lick of his lips, his fingers caressing your face as you pull his boxers down.
Matt’s penis springs out of its constraints. “You know how I like it,” he comments, watching you take his shaft into your hands. You pump it slowly, taking your time with it and making sure to properly service him.
You place a neat kiss on the tip, letting your lips travel down towards the base. From there you lick a stripe back towards the top that has Matt hissing because you wrap your lips around it, almost like you were drawing an exclamation mark on it.
Your tongue swirls around the tip teasingly, lips still hugging around him. Matt’s eyes stare down at you, eager for your every move.
A careful hand pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail, pushing your head down slowly on the rest of his length. You gag when the tip hits the back of your throat, your hands moving from his member to his waist. That doesn’t stop him though, instead he bucks into you one more time just to hear you choke around his cock.
You got me red, white, and blue. Pledging my allegiance to you.
“You like that, don’t you?” His question is met with your bloodshot, tear brimmed eyes and a chin dribbling with saliva. Your blue hickeys and red eyes were about to pair perfectly with the white strings of cum he was going to paint your face with.
Ooh, seeing stars in your eyes. No, I’ve never felt so alive.
Matt’s fucking your face at a feverish pace, grunting every time your cheeks hollow around him or his dick presses against the back of your throat. He’s so unbelievably close that he has to shut his eyes because the way your saliva coats his penis and bubbles at your mouth has him seeing stars.
Momentarily, he pulls out of your mouth, giving you enough time to catch your breath before he’s tapping the tip on your lips. “Open,” he grits, shoving himself back into your dazed face. Three more pumps and the submissive sight in front of him is all it takes to push him over the edge.
Spurts of cum land on your tongue, some of it managing to hit your cheek. He collects it on the thumb that brushes your cheek, popping it in your mouth and groaning at how eagerly you lick it clean.
Won’t you take me to heaven tonight?
“Now let me make you feel good, yeah? To remind you how much you mean to me,” Matt whispers, pulling you up and guiding you to the edge of the bed. Now it’s his turn to kneel in front of you, his lips latching onto the skin of your ankles and slowly kissing their way up to your inner thighs.
He nips and sucks on your skin until he’s face to face with your crotch, your arousal evident through your soaked panties. Matt places a gentle kiss on your clothed bundle of nerves, relishing in the satisfied shudder than runs through your spine.
Strong arms wrap around your thighs, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed and forcing you to lay back against the mattress. “Ready?” he asks, but he knows the answer, it’s literally glistening in front of him.
“Yes, fuck yes,” you respond. Weren’t you just claiming to be done with him? And now he has you exasperated at his touch.
Matt uses his teeth to pull your panties down, letting them fall onto the floor before returning his attention to your throbbing core.
He starts off slow, licking your clit just to get a taste of you. Your squirming informs him that this isn’t enough, so he uses his fingers to part your folds. His tongue is flat against you, applying pressure where you need it most.
His right hand presses one leg against the bed while the left clasps under your knees to push your leg in the air, providing him with the perfect position to ravish you. He begins sucking on your nub, burying his face in your juices.
You know all my secrets.
Your hands find his hair, whimpering as you tug at the strands. You’re squirming under him, attempting to pull away at the overstimulation, but his grip on you is so firm that you can’t move.
His left arm slithers from under your knee to over your thigh, wrapping around you tightly enough to tug you even further past the edge of the bed. At this point, your ass is in the air as you chase his face, grinding against him for even more friction.
“Matt— fuck! I’m so close,” you exclaim, propping yourself up on one of your elbows to watch him work. His hair fell past his eyes and his arms were securely wrapped around you; he looked so beautiful.
Your pussy flutters around him, signifying your pending release. So, as to push you closer towards your climax, his right hand leaves your thigh to plunge two long fingers inside of you. The euphoric sensation causes you to throw your head back in pleasure, your elbows giving out until your entire body falls back onto the mattress.
“C’mon baby,” he murmurs, “cum for me.”
That’s all it takes for you to come undone, your body trembling as your orgasm completely washes over you. Matt watches in awe as your jaw falls slack, small moans rolling off your tongue and floating towards him like a melodic tune.
You’re still catching your breath when Matt places one last kiss on your pussy, crawling over you to capture your lips in a kiss.
“How about we make the last time count?” he taunts, dragging the tip of his cock against your still sensitive folds.
You know you’re my weakness.
You nod your head feverishly, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside of you. You’re desperate for his touch, your walls crashing down like an addict overcome with their weakness.
That doesn’t seem to satisfy him. “Words. I need to hear you say it,” he grunts, becoming desperate himself.
Tell me you believe in me too. I do.
“I need you, Matt. I’ll always need you,” there’s a pathetic desperation in your voice that makes his dick twitch, and it’s all he needs to hear before he’s plunging deep inside of you.
He sets a steady pace, rocking his body back and forth against yours like it’s the first and last time. His pelvis brushes against your clit with each stroke, causing your hips to lift off the mattress and meet him midway.
Matt pushes your hips back down, knowing that if you keep that up he won’t last. “Patience, baby. Patience.”
He’s got a cross around his neck.
You can’t be patient though, he’s already so deep inside of you and he still doesn’t feel close enough. Your fingers loop around the cross necklace that dangles from his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to you. Your lips find his in a hungry frenzy, both your mouths moulding into a needy kiss.
Moans and whimpers are exchanged, along with the breathy sound that follows when you look down to see where you two are joined. His cock is covered in your slick, your walls hugging him perfectly with each stroke.
Your hand moves from the necklace to the nape of his neck, caressing and massaging the skin there as he continues to thrust deep inside of you. His necklace sways back and forth, serving as a reminder of how sinful this is. Yet, you never want it to stop.
Matt can tell you’re becoming pensive, so he pushes your hips into the mattress, providing him with a new angle that allows his tip to kiss your cervix. “Matt!” you gasp, the new, delicious angle setting you closer towards the edge.
His animalistic grunts fill the room, he loves when you say his name. “Say it again,” he commands, pulling out of you completely only to snap his hips back in at an ungodly rate.
“Matt!” you exclaim, chanting his name like a prayer.
You’re the greatest love of my life.
“That’s it baby, let go for me,” his words help you reach your climax, your pussy fluttering around him as you come undone. He follows suit shortly after, his head falling into the space where your neck meets your shoulder.
He groans as he releases inside of you, hot breath fanning against your neck. His hips rolls lazily against you, and for a second he lets himself be taken by the immense pleasure that washes over him.
“Fuck, I love you,” he moans, placing sloppy kisses all over your body. He doesn’t realize that he said until he feels your body stiffen beneath him, and honestly he’s not sure what possessed him to admit it out loud.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” he stutters, pulling out of you completely. He’s quick to find his boxers and throw them on, leaving you dazed on the bed.
“See you next week?” you ask, a hopeful tone in your voice. Quickly you find your panties on the floor and adjust your skirt. He coughs awkwardly, mostly because he doesn’t know where to go from here.
“This was the last time,” he replies, quoting your words from earlier, but there’s something almost venomous in the way he says it. The sentence breaks your heart and you’re almost tempted to get down on your knees again so he’ll take it back. But you don’t, instead you gather your things and take a fleeting look at yourself in the mirror.
“That’s what you wanted, right? Wouldn’t want your best friend to find out about us anyways.”
You nod your head slowly, a tight lipped smile forming on your face. “Right.”
You were red, white and blue and he never gave you the chance to admit that you loved him too.
—
a/n: 🇺🇸😵 so excited to read everyone’s stories for this challenge!! - L.A.M.B👼🏻💗
—
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WIN ONE WIN ME — L.HS
SYNOPSIS: who knew being angry and impulsive can get the captain of the hockey team to notice you? cussing them out when they were losing wasn't the best idea, but it definitely made lee heeseung's head turn, leading to him making a deal with you to win a game in order to get your number. but that wasn't enough for him, he was determined to make you his.
PAIRINGS: ice hockey player!heeseung x afab!reader
GENRE: strangers to lovers, college sports au, romance
WARNING(S): profanities, violence (fight), suggestive content (no smut), heeseung is a retired fuckboy turned good + y/n is a party goer, drinking, partying, jake being a footballer aka a soccer player ( NOT american football )
WC: 14k
AUTHOR'S NOTE: aaaa it's finally here ! hope y'all enjoyed it and PLEASE let me know how it was, give me some feedbacks and thoughts, it's been A LONGG WHILE since i've been writing so i'm worried i'll be crusty. anyway, enjoy !
part 1 of 'no competition' series | series masterlist | masterlist
© jaylver 2023 all rights reserved.
“I'M SO NOT HAVING FUN ANYMORE,”
Friday nights were always preoccupied by hockey and hockey only. It has never changed ever since Yunjin, your best friend, gave you an introduction to the school’s ice hockey team. Being the massive sports fan you were, you obviously got hooked on watching their games live. But there were downsides to being a fan which includes witnessing the team losing.
You swore you were already in a foul mood that day, courtesy to your professor and shitty customers, you found yourself seeking solace in the hockey game, which turned sour almost instantly. Just your luck for the day, huh?
“It’s just the first period, Y/N,” Yunjin sighed, glancing up at the jumbotron, wincing a little at the scoreline. They were currently 3 goals down and Yunjin's reassurance didn't help at all.
“I suppose so,” you replied glumly.
The second period rolled by in a flash, but there wasn’t much of a positive outcome either. The team managed to score two goals, but the opponents out performed them and scored one more goal, continuing their lead.
You groaned loudly, along with many other disappointed students. 15 minutes of intermission ended rather quickly, bringing everyone back to reality.
“Oh come on, score already!” you shouted out in irritation, stirring other students to yell out in agreement as well.
The game was going slow and your patience was eventually growing thin. The clock was ticking, meaning the game was about to end soon with the team losing tragically. You shook your head in defeat, wrapping an arm around Yunjin’s shoulder and placing the other on your hip.
“For fuck’s sake, score already, idiots!” you yelled out.
Just when you did so, someone skated by, his head turned to look at you, meeting your eyes for only a brief second before disappearing into a sea of hockey players. You blinked. Did that just happen? You whipped your head to find Yunjin staring back at you, as if asking the same question.
“Did–”
“That–”
The two of you paused.
“Yeah,” you both said in unison, returning your attention back to the game.
As expected, the game unfortunately ended with a defeat for the home team. You and Yunjin decided to leave the arena immediately since it was already getting late, but you two also made sure to have a quick stop at the cafeteria to get some pizza before continuing the journey back to the dorms.
“I heard someone’s throwing a party soon,” Yunjin said through a mouth full of pepperoni pizza.
“Who is that ‘someone’?” you wiped your hand clean of pizza grease, then threw yourself on Yunjin’s bed, causing her to let out a grunt.
“That made me choke and I would’ve died. I don’t want my cause of death to be something related to pizza,” she grumbled, closing the pizza lid and taking the napkin you handed her.
“I thought you loved pizza?” you blinked innocently, flashing her your best smile and she threw you a dirty look.
“Think we got a little side tracked,” Yunjin mumbled thoughtfully. “If I’m not wrong, it was by one of those football chads? Was it Jake?”
“Jake might play football but he’s so not a chad,” you argued, unknowingly defending said boy.
Jake sim was, in fact, another popular athlete in your school who unsurprisingly turned out to be another playboy. You remembered the small heartbreak you had when you discovered his true identity, secretly wishing he was like any other non-fuckboy guy in the campus. But life’s unfair sometimes and somehow, that didn’t stop you from being acquainted with that golden retriever-like boy.
“You’re only saying that because he gives you free booze and free passes to football games,” Yunjin raised an eyebrow at you and you feigned ignorance. “Anyway, I think it’s that Yeonjun guy who’s throwing that party. He’s that rich kid, remember?”
“Yeah, I do. I saw him multiple times at games,”
“Didn’t he flirt with you?”
“Correction, he tried. Luckily Jake was there to stop him or else I would’ve given him a black eye,” you frowned.
“Would’ve loved to see that happen,” Yunjin shrugged while you narrowed your eyes at her.
“You’re praying on my downfall,”
“Never. Also, are we going to talk about that hockey player staring deeply into your soul just now?”
You rolled your eyes at her words. “I don’t think I would count 2 seconds anything—”
“Of course it does! Have you seen those love at first sight tropes in romcoms?”
“I think you watched too many of them, Jen,” you squeezed her cheek and she slapped your hand, deadpanning at you. “Who is he anyway?”
“If I’m not wrong, he’s number one, Lee Heeseung, the captain. I think he’s in your English class too? Ring a bell?” Yunjin raised an eyebrow at you.
“I think I do remember him. He’s the one with fangirls lining outside, right?” Yunjin nodded at your words and you laughed, thinking back to the time where your professor had to chase a group of girls away before class started. Why? Because of Lee Heeseung’s sheer presence.
“Let’s not forget his messy hookups. Yikes,” Yunjin shuddered at the thought, suddenly rubbing her chin with a small frown. “Don’t you think we’re a bit uneducated when it comes to their players?”
“I mean,” you hummed, nodding a little. “I guess you’re right, we’re always there for the game and some beers and we barely bothered to find out which player is which,”
“We should pull up their Instagram profiles next game,” Yunjin suggested with a wink.
“Oh, I think you’ll definitely be on it,”
“Obviously,” Yunjin smirked. “Anyway, up for a facemask?”
You huffed, a small smile appearing on your face. “You know I wouldn’t say no to that.”
“THIS IS SUCH A TYPICAL CHAD THROWN KIND OF PARTY,”
You found yourself complaining once more as you and Yunjin entered a big house. The living room was basically filled to the brim, along with loud music booming throughout the room and the smell of alcohol invaded your nostrils, this was pure hell. You turned to look at your best friend, silently cursing at her for bringing you here. Yunjin gave you her typical shrug as though she had read your thoughts, dragging you away from the vicinity.
"It's Yeonjun, what did you expect," Yunjin hissed, taking you further into the house.
"I also can’t believe you put me in this slutty dress,” you groaned. At this point, you were practically pulling your dress down every ten seconds from the way it kept riding up and you started getting beyond irritated by it.
“If not, you’ll turn up in your casual crop tops and denim shorts,” she shook her head in disapproval. “I can’t let that happen, not when there's rich guys here,”
"I'm here for a party, not to choose my next rich bachelor," you said in distaste, the last thing you wanted was a frat boy. “So, what are we going to do now?” you asked, holding tightly onto Yunjin’s hand as if your life depended on it.
“Enjoy ourselves, duh? I’ll go get some drinks. Sprite for you?”
You nodded, a little bummed out that you were missing out on some good booze since somebody, aka you, had to be responsible and drive back to the dorms without risking getting pulled over. You were already a broke college student, a fine would definitely not help your case.
Now here you are, stuck helplessly in the middle of a party with people you don’t know. Great. You thought about the possibilities that could've been if you decided to stay at home instead of leaning against a wall in a skimpy black dress and it had you groaning internally.
It was then the universe had heard your pleas of boredom and decided on some ‘fun’, except that ‘fun’ consisted of someone’s back bumping into you and their drink splattering all over onto your dress. You jumped in surprise and the boy who was practically pushed onto you had let out a small “oof” before fully realising what he had done.
“I’m so sorry,” he placed his cup aside and picked up some napkins from a table nearby. For a split moment, he was about to wipe your dress, then he paused, turning flustered when he realised what he was about to do, and instead, handed the napkins to you.
You gently dabbed the napkins on your soaked dress, a frown on your face as you felt the sticky substance stick to your skin uncomfortably. “It’s fine, you didn’t mean it anyway,”
You looked up from your dress, finally meeting his eyes. He blinked, seemingly trying to register who you were.
“It’s … you,”
“Me?” you pointed at yourself, a little dumbfounded at his words.
“I didn’t expect you to be here,”
That’s when it hit you. The very same eyes that stared back at you during the hockey game, the one that Yunjin had told you about. “Lee Heeseung?”
He resembled a bambi, his large innocent brown eyes gazing back at you, a look of curiosity behind them. He had a tall stature, his hair covering his forehead and it was styled plainly, not to mention his loosely buttoned up shirt clinging comfortably onto his frame. Now you understand why Yunjin said he has fangirls, you were shamefully about to be one too.
“Yeah … that’s me. What about you? Why’re you here?”
“Do you … recognize me?” you cringed a little at the memory of you practically cussing his team out, praying he would somehow forget it all.
“How could I not? You’re from English right? Shakespeare presentation, eh?” Heeseung recalled and you nodded, impressed that he remembered something from so long before, but most importantly, he remembered you.
“But of course, how could I forget, you’re also the person cussing us out on Friday too. I’m charmed, actually,” he chuckled nonchalantly as though it was nothing, but you, on the other hand, panicked a little and eyes only widened in a mix of horror and embarrassment.
Heeseung seemed to notice the panic in your eyes, waving his hands in reassurance. “Don’t worry though, I thought it was funny,” At his words, your shoulders relaxed, breathing out a sigh of relief.
You let out a nervous laugh. “You guys did your best. There’s always a next time,”
“Right,” he nodded, then averted his gaze back to your dress, instantly coming back to reality as he remembered the current problem in front of his face. He removed his jacket in a flash, carefully placing it over your shoulders. The sudden proximity had you gasping quietly, the waft of his cologne infiltrating your senses.
He was close, so so agonisingly close. A wave of shock passed through your body as you felt his gentle touch, almost feather-like as it lasted only just a second, but now with his hugging your body, you could finally breathe an air of comfort once warmth engulfed you.
“Sorry about your dress,” he pulled away, flashing you a genuine apologetic smile. “I thought the least I could do was give you my jacket,”
“No worries, you didn't do it on purpose anyway, it’s not your fault,” you assured him, being a little self aware that numerous wandering eyes were now on you and the campus’ popular hockey team captain. You felt like a deer caught in the headlights.
“Actually,” Heeseung started, “I can borrow one of my friend’s shirts so that you can change? I don’t think it’s a good idea walking around like that, plus my friend lives in this frat house anyway,”
“If you insist,” you gave in, not wanting to reject his help as he seemed so keen.
You silently followed Heeseung through the crowd of bodies, trying your hardest to not get swallowed with the way people were shoving around. Heeseung noticed you lagging behind and smoothly took hold of your hand, pulling you closer to him. You didn’t say much, letting him guide you up the stairs into someone’s room.
You glanced around the room. From the way it was decorated with random posters, sports magazines stacked on the bedside table and dirty clothes littered the floor, you were instantly convinced that this room belonged to a frat boy.
Heeseung surprisingly continued to keep his hand in yours, using the other to dig through a pile of clothes until he found an oversize shirt and a pair of pants. “Here,” he handed you the clothes, finally letting go of your hand, stepping away with his hands in his pockets. “I think all the bathroom’s full so it’s best to just change here,”
“You think so?”
“I know so, I’ll leave it up to your imagination to think about whatever that happens in there,”
“Right …” you faltered at his comment, the two of you remained staring at one another. That’s when you cleared your throat, fumbling with your clothes. “I would appreciate it if you turned around … unless you want a show?”
“For free? I can't say no, can I?”
“You wish. Now turn around,”
Heeseung shrugged, a mischievous grin on his face as he threw his hands up in defence and faced away. You stood behind him, cheeks flared while you practically yanked your skimpy black dress off. Yunjin would not be happy knowing she’ll have to do laundry.
You reached over to the back of your dress, practically yanking forcefully onto the zip that was unwilling to budge even for a bit. God, why me? Why now? Internally conflicted, you didn’t know whether to bear the shame and ask Heeseung for help or to just stay silent. But to your luck, the zip was stuck no matter how you pulled it.
“Heeseung?”
He hummed in response.
“I need your help,” you swallowed, trying your best to not shrivel up and dig a grave in that moment. “My zip is stuck.”
Momentary silence filled the air. It seemed Heeseung, too, was having some internal conflict. In a second, you heard shuffling behind you, feeling the warmth of his body close as his fingers reached for your zip, his other hand on your waist. You felt his fingertips grazing against your bare skin as he dragged the zipper down, hearing a faint gulp from him. You squeezed your eyes shut, swearing to never come to parties again.
“You’re good to go,” he whispered, coughing awkwardly.
“Thanks,” you met his eyes in the reflection of the small mirror placed on top of a dresser in front of you. Realisation seemed to hit him and he averted his gaze, taking a look around the room instead.
You practically yanked the dress off, pulling the shirt over your head and the pants on, stumbling a little from the sudden hit of nervousness. Could it be his presence that made you nervous? You hated this feeling.
“I’m done,” you declared, suddenly feeling the tension in the air.
“So, I can look now?” Heeseung joked and you rolled your eyes, but smiled at him.
“Keep your eyes closed forever then,” you bumped his shoulder, sitting down on the bed.
“Should we stay here instead?” he suggested and you narrowed your eyes at him in suspicion, to which he scoffed. “Of course no funny business, who do you think I am?”
“Playboy Lee Heeseung, no?”
He groaned. “That’s what people think of me even though it’s completely false,”
“You do have fangirls, don’t you?”
“But I don’t date them, do I?” he retorted. “I don’t even go to parties much these days, coach has been up my ass,”
“Sucks to be you,”
Heeseung scoffed, turning to look at you with a question in mind. “You’re a big hockey fan?”
“Ever since I was a kid. Why?”
“I notice you’re always there every game night with your friend,”
“So, I’ve caught your attention?”
“A pretty girl like you surely wouldn’t go unnoticed in my eyes,” he was close now, a challenging glint in his eyes as his gaze fell to your lips from time to time.
“You’re funny, Hee,” you couldn’t resist smiling.
“How can I make it up to you?” his eyes met yours, a sly grin on his face. “About your dress, I mean,”
You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, knowing damn well what lies in his words. Maybe he was just like every other campus athlete, but at that moment, you didn’t seem to care, your interest only increasing and you couldn’t tell if this was his plan all along.
You thought about his question for a moment, pursing your lip. “How about you win the next game? I think that’ll help a lot,”
Heeseung nodded thoughtfully. “If I do, can I get your number too?”
“Why not?”
“Shall this be a deal?” he smirked, ready for a challenge.
“Sure,” you shrugged nonchalantly.
“I’ll win the next one, just you wait,” Heeseung's words were filled with utter determination and confidence. He was definitely ready to tell you 'told you so' and prove you wrong.
“Well, I’ll be waiting,” you glanced down at your phone, noticing over ten messages from Yunjin. Shit. “The clock’s ticking and I need to go. See you, captain,”
“Wait,” he caught hold of your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. You turned to look at him, a big question mark written over your expression, anticipating his next words. “Can I at least know what your name is?”
You grinned. “It’s Y/N,”
"Get ready with your phone number, Y/N. I'll be looking out for you at the next game. Keep the jacket too," he winked and you waved a small goodbye, exiting out the door and dashed down the stairs with your dirty clothes in hand, wearing Heeseung's jacket, completely unaware how quick your heart was beating.
When you spotted Yunjin, you practically fell into her arms as she started ranting about why you shouldn’t run away without her knowledge, but all of it eventually drowned out into white noise. The only thing you could think of suddenly was Heeseung. Lee fucking Heeseung.
"Y/N," she sang out your name, tapping your head to catch your attention. “Why are you in a different outfit? You got laid didn’t you?” she gasped and you slapped her arm.
“Heeseung spilled a drink on me and took me to his friend’s room to change, that’s all,”
“Heeseung?” she gasped again, a teasing grin slowly forming and you knew that trouble was in that mind of hers. “You and him didn’t smoochy smooch … right?”
“We’re not there yet, hello?”
“There’s something called a hook up, you hopeless romantic,” Yunjin shook her head. “This sounds like the start of a hockey romance based on the books I've read," she squealed and you only sighed.
"Please read some self help books too,"
"Never," she huffed, leaning in and dropping her voice so that only the two of you could hear what she was about to say. "What did you two talk about? A private hook up after games? We need some spice in your hockey romance plot!"
"Oh my god, I rather drown than fuck that man. You do realise he has fangirls chasing after him? They'll choke me in my sleep if I slept with him,"
Yunjin wrapped her arm around you. "I'll choke you first if you don't bag that man. He's tall, hockey captain, hot most importantly," she winked. "One down part is that I'm pretty sure he used to fuck around quite a lot too. But then a messy hook up traumatised him,"
"How so?"
"She was crazy from what I heard. That's why no fangirls will come at you for revenge, they know he's a whore, but they'll just line up instead," she led you out to a flight of stairs, where there were some questionable couples making out, but that didn't stop you and Yunjin from sitting on the landing.
"Totally not a red flag," you said sarcastically. "I don't know how to feel about him. He was nice, quite flirty. Maybe he's like those Wattpad cliches where he's actually a nice guy?" You said, sipping onto the drink Yunjin got you.
"Who knows? Judging from the past rumours I've heard here and there, he definitely was a manwhore, but he’s also a sweet and genuine one," Yunjin clicked her tongue. "I did hear he's quite a sweetheart aside from his fuckboy tendencies."
"A manwhore with a kind heart! Just my type!" You clapped your hands and Yunjin chuckled at your comment. “Anyway, I swore I'm done with hockey boys a long time ago. I don't want to like him,"
Ice hockey has always been one of your favourite sports, but hockey boys? They were a whole different story for you. A core memory from highschool that you wished to never revisit was the fact that you had your heart broken by a hockey boy. He was considered your first love, a best friend, that ended up breaking your trust.
"This is why you should date a footballer,"
You snapped out of your momentary daze, looking up to meet Jake Sim’s eyes.
“Present to me a perfect candidate then,” Yunjin crossed her arms, frowning at Jake. She wasn't a big fan of him, considering his notorious playboy tendencies, but over time he did gradually warm up to her.
"Me!"
"I'll rip your head off first before you get a chance with Y/N,"
"Ouch,"
You and Yunjin shared a look, then burst out laughing.
"What's up, Sim? Do you have something for me?" You questioned Jake, wondering what his purpose was for his sudden appearance.
"Nothing, I'm just bored," he said plainly, though you and Yunjin were a little unconvinced.
"Okay? Any games coming up?"
"It's currently a short break for us. I'm glad or else my legs will snap in half soon," Jake pouted, resembling a puppy, which you couldn't help but find endearing. "You should totally come and learn to kick some footballs soon. Jake Sim is always up for some training," he winked.
"I'll be the next running candidate to take over Messi, right?" Yunjin joked and you nudged her side, giggling.
"Only if you learn at Jake Sim's personal training," he shrugged, a small smirk on his face. "Anyway, I really want to watch the hockey team and I heard you guys were regulars. Mind if I join?"
You raised an eyebrow at Yunjin, shooting her a wordless question. Yunjin scrunched her nose, thinking for a moment before shrugging. All while that was happening, Jake was just standing there staring, a little unimpressed.
"Hello? I don't appreciate this mind linking conversation that I'm not a part of," he placed his hands on his hips, his head tilted to the side.
"Alright, sorry," Yunjin mumbled.
"Fine, you can tag along," you said, watching the boy before you grin.
"Let's go!"
"IS IT NORMAL TO BE FREEZING COLD HERE?"
Jake had his arms around himself, shivering slightly even though he was already in layers. You and Yunjin followed the boy to your seats as he marvelled at the size of the rink.
"I barely watch hockey games, I'm more of a summer sports kinda guy," he tucked his hands into his jacket pockets.
"Well, it's just your lucky day, you'll be witnessing a win too," Yunjin winked, passing you a knowing glance.
"How do you know?"
"Team captain over there–" Yunjin nodded over at Heeseung, who was practising on the rink with the team, looking good as always, which only further annoyed you. "–made a deal with Y/N. I'm sure his determination will mix well with his competitiveness,"
Yunjin glanced over at you, a small smirk on her face. "And here he comes," she sang and you whipped your head just in time to meet his eyes.
Heeseung skated over, a small smile on his face. You felt Yunjin nudging your side in excitement and you slapped her hands away, ignoring her giddy expression and you returned a lopsided smile to Heeseung.
“Y/N!” you managed to hear his muffled voice through the glass, which he tapped on a couple times to get your full attention.
“I’m going to score one for you tonight,” you were surprised with the determined glint in his eyes, proving Yunjin's statement immediately, and after a quick wave from him, he skated away to join his team, preparing for the game to start.
Jake whistled, fanning himself. “I definitely felt the tension.”
“Shut up.”
The second period ended with a draw, both teams were not willing to back down for just a little, even creating small brawls on ice from time to time, causing the tension to be heightened. The third period was equally heart stopping and gut twisting. You had to occasionally grip Yunjin's arm whenever there was a close chance to score.
There was a sudden switch in the atmosphere, the home team had dominated possession of the puck, the blades of their skates working overtime trying to reach the other end to the opponent’s goal post. One hit after another, the puck travelled from one player’s hockey stick to another, until it reached star player Park Sunghoon, who had defenders swarming him and it left him no choice but to pass to his captain, Lee Heeseung.
With one swift hit to the oncoming puck from Sunghoon, it shot into the back of the net, leaving the goalie absolutely defenceless. The arena erupted with shouts and cheers, not expecting the sudden turnover from their home team, the speakers were blaring music, followed by announcing Heeseung’s name, which was welcomed with deafening screams. Shamelessly, you, Jake and Yunjin were part of the screams, clapping and jumping.
The team jumped onto Heeseung, but somehow, he escaped them all and started skating towards your direction, pointing his stick at you and shooting a wink. 'For you' he mouthed slyly at you before rejoining his teammates.
“See, I told you Heeseung will win it for Y/N,” Yunjin said, seemingly pleased.
“MVP,” Jake clapped, a shocked expression on his face.
You, on the other hand, were trying to digest everything that just happened. The moment where he dedicated the goal to you had you unintentionally blushing, realising a sudden change in feelings. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t be so bad if you gave him a chance. Countless thoughts swarmed your head even until the end of the game.
Now, here you were, waiting for Heeseung at the parking lot, your friends peeking in the car from a distance.
Yunjin shot you an encouraging thumbs up while Jake only laughed at Yunjin’s efforts. You glared at them, waving them off and you reciprocated back with a middle finger. That’s when you heard a rough cough behind you. Fuck.
“Y/N?”
You turned around slowly, looking as though you were just caught in the middle of commiting something you're not supposed to. “Heeseung,” you laughed nervously. "Congrats on the game! You played well,”
“Thank you,” Heeseung grinned. “I’m glad you came. I mean, you always do, what am I even saying?” he rambled, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.
You couldn't help laughing, finding the way he got nervous was cute. He was cute too. Undeniable. "That was a nice goal by the way,"
"Well, I did say I wanted to score one specifically for you. I'm a man of my words, you know?" He chuckled, getting shy eventually. "I'm glad you liked it though,"
"Of course I did," you gave him a small smile, fidgeting your fingers slightly.
He straightened up, regaining his composure. “So … our deal,”
“You’re lucky I like you enough to actually stick to it,” you grumbled, shoving your hand into your pocket to dig out the piece of paper.
“You like me, huh?”
“Not in that way yet,”
“‘Yet’. So I do have a chance. I’m happy to know,”
“Do you want my number or a black eye?” you threatened rather unseriously, a teasing tone laced in your words.
“I’d prefer a kiss, but your number shall do for now,” he grabbed the small note from your hand, unwrapping it to find a candy in it. “Apple flavoured, what a nice surprise,” he mumbled under his breath.
“You’re cute, you truly have a way to my heart huh?” he looked up from the candy, storing away your number safely into his pocket.
You caught yourself speechless from his words. On average, you were typically unfazed by these comments. Countless boys had tried them on you and all of them turned out to feel icky instead of making you kick your feet, giggling. But this time, Heeseung proved you wrong.
"Coming from Lee Heeseung himself, should I be flattered?" You tried your best to stay nonchalant, keeping your heart rate down as much as you can.
"I don't know? You tell me," Heeseung leaned down, his face close to you now, making you slowly grow flustered.
"Count me a little flattered," you took the clothes from the other night from your bag, pushing it into Heeseung's hands, catching him off guard. "Here, relay my thanks to your friend,"
"Only to my friend? What about me?" Heeseung crossed his arms, staring accusingly at you.
"My number already counts as a ‘thanks’, doesn’t it?"
Heeseung narrowed his eyes at you, a smile itching at the corner of his lips. “Not enough. A date might suffice,”
“You are demanding, Lee Heeseung,” you huffed, but not rejecting his suggestion either.
“I’ll text you, pretty girl. I have a plan in mind, so you better clear your schedules,”
“Alright, captain.”
“FOR ONCE, I DON'T REGRET COMING TO A PARTY YOU SELECTED,”
You’ve always avoided frat parties, specifically frat boys, but this time, Yunjin managed to accomplish the unexpected by convincing you to a frat party. You had to admit, there was a small motive behind your agreement, which was to visit the richest frat house on the campus. Free expensive booze, a big pool, big everything, it was definitely going to be more than a party. All you had to do was avoid the frat boys and your night shall be made.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yunjin snapped, but you were too busy checking out the vicinity to listen to her grumbles.
“They have a huge ass yard and pool,” you whispered to Yunjin, weaving through the growing crowd. The house was too extravagant, even the air in there seemed richer. The tiles were completely marbled, there were stairs leading up to almost four floors. You wondered how it was even owned by a frat.
“This is a rich frat, what did you expect?”
“Touche.”
You and Yunjin didn’t bother waiting for a second before taking some pregame shots. The vodka burned your throat, making you wince a little, but it didn't stop you from more. The moment Jake found the two of you, it was already clear you were already on the way to being completely shit-faced.
"Oh come on, you already started without me?" Jake whined, downing two shots of vodka straight.
"Couldn't resist," Yunjin pressed her lips into a thin line, shrugging slightly.
"Also, did you guys hear?" Jake leaned in, dropping his voice. "The hockey team from our rival school is coming to this party,"
"What?" You hissed, frowning slightly. "Who invited their asses?"
"I don't know," Jake shrugged, picking up another glass of alcohol from a tray.
"Speaking of hockey," Yunjin cleared her throat, passing you a knowing smirk. "Aren't you going to find Heeseung?"
"I–why would I?" You stammard, avoiding Yunjin's piercing gaze.
"He's clearly into you. Didn't you see him pulling that stunt that day? Scoring a goal for you and winning just for your number? That's the most commitment I've seen from him or just any man in general,"
"Hear hear," Jake raised his glass in agreement, then proceeded to down it without a second thought.
"I'll see what happens tonight," you said, but your eyes decided to go against you, unconsciously scanning the room hoping to see him.
"Tonight will be full of opportunities," Yunjin marvelled, throwing her arm around your shoulder and winking. "If you know what I mean," she whispered.
"The first you'll see is me getting drunk, not getting laid," you let out an exasperated sigh, pursing your lips and pausing as something caught your eyes. You furrowed your eyebrows, instantly noticing a group of guys filing into the room. They must be the rival team Jake had mentioned.
“Must be them,” Yunjin pointed out, taking a big gulp from her cup. Jake whipped his head around, scanning the group of guys that were yelling loudly, dabbing up one another and seemingly unlikeable as a whole.
He made a sour expression. “Great, hockey jocks,”
“As though your group of football guys are any better,” Yunjin quipped, only earning a sharp glare from Jake and he cleared his throat, gaze focused on a specific person.
“That guy there must be their captain,” he nodded at the group and you had to squint your eyes to see who Jake had his attention trained at. Almost immediately, your smile dropped, along with your heart. It was him.
You froze the moment your eyes landed on a tall figure, it definitely was him. He stood out from the rest, being the taller and bulkier one with messy hair and undeniable charm from the way he was already surrounded by different girls. Yup, that’s 100% Matthew, your high school lover, the hockey boy that traumatised your love life.
“Oh fuck me,” you cursed under your breath, the other two turning to stare at you.
“You want to fuck him?” Jake shrieked in surprise and Yunjin slapped the back of his head, causing the boy to hiss in pain, silently cursing.
“No, dipshit. That’s her …” she glanced at you and you nodded, giving her a green flag to continue, “ex.”
“Him? Matthew Son? Your ex?” Jake was flabbergasted, panning back and forth between your ex and you.
“Unfortunately. High school ex, to be exact,” you grumbled, pushing away the ill thoughts and bitter feelings that lingered for Mathew. You were a new person, you were never someone to be stuck in the past, you weren’t about to be affected by him. Never.
“I might need more drinks,” you rubbed the side of your head, slipping away before the other two could even say anything. Though the voice in your head was constantly affirming that his presence wasn’t affecting you, you still couldn’t help feeling unnerved. Seeing him was unnerving too.
The kitchen was unsurprisingly glamorous and the space was huge. Everything in there screamed fancy and expensive. The counter was made from marble, cupboards were also probably made from high quality wood and the wide variety of food in there could literally make it resemble a grocery store. Best of yet, you had it all to yourself. For once, your ex made himself useful enough by helping you attract everyone to the main room.
You spotted some leftover bottles of gin and decided to give your bartender skills some try. It wasn’t your first rodeo thanks to Yunjin. Ever since she started bringing you to parties and being someone who’s easily impressed, you found yourself learning some tips and tricks on how to mix drinks from a rando in a party one day. Soon, it became your favourite party activity.
It was quite peaceful being all by yourself. The songs playing on the speakers reverberated across the house, but you didn’t mind it as you mixed a concoction of gin and juice on the counter, praying it would turn out fine.
“You’re here?”
You turned around at the sound of the voice, almost toppling over your glass in shock, but the moment you met a familiar set of doe eyes, you released a breath of relief, your heart unknowingly beating faster.
“You’re here too? I thought no parties for Mr Hockey?” you leaned back onto the counter as he walked to your side.
“Thought I’d give myself an off day after yesterday’s win,” Heeseung shrugged, glancing at you from time to time. “Surprisingly, I always see you at every party I go to,”
“I was dragged to every said party by force,” you thought of the she-devil, Yunjin, who somehow successfully convinced you to attend every party with her. “Do you want a drink?” you offered, nodding towards your half made drink.
“You’re making them?” Heeseung eyed the bottles.
“I am a woman of many talents,” you said smugly, continuing your drink mixing, feeling Heeseung’s piercing stare on you.
“A woman who wouldn’t poison me right?” he peeked over your shoulder, closing in on your face, his body only inches away from yours till the point where you could feel the heat radiating off him. Lee Heeseung definitely knew what he was doing.
“You’re doubting my abilities now then?” you kept your cool, pouring alcohol into a new glass for Heeseung.
He smiled. “Just trying to make sure,” he murmured into your ears and you could tell he was enjoying teasing you. Sly fucker.
“No promises,” your voice came out in a whisper, turning a little to the side to meet his pair of bambi eyes and your breath hitched suddenly upon realising how close the two of you were, you were only an inch apart from touching each other’s noses. You were scared to move even the slightest, shying gradually from his eyes sweeping your features.
“What if I said I wanted to kiss you,”
You scoffed, growing immune to his charms. “I thought you were a gentleman, Lee? No candlelit dinner first?”
He cracked a grin, chuckling slightly. “Sometimes I skip that part and jump to dessert first,” he winked and you rolled your eyes, pushing his face away and he burst out laughing. “I’m playing with you. I’m obviously a gentleman, can’t you tell?”
You hummed, raising an eyebrow at him in scepticism. “I can’t.”
“You love breaking my heart, Y/N. I’m hurt,” he frowns, feigning innocence as he laid his head on your shoulder, clutching at his chest and you found yourself smiling unknowingly at his dramatics.
You decided to play along, patting Heeseung’s head in so called “comfort”. “Oh, what can I do to fix your broken heart, Heeseung?” you exclaimed.
“Come to Jay’s birthday party with me?” he stared up at you with pleading eyes. Those bambi eyes will eventually be the death of you.
"Why?"
You've heard of Jay Park one too many times. From the campus cafes to the local club, he was everywhere, and you didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. He was another one of the popular hockey players from Heeseung's team which you've seen at almost every party you attended ever since your first year.
Yunjin told you only one thing upon seeing Jay Park: "don't meddle with him" and you've stuck to it.
"That's a bold invitation," you considered for a moment, still quite unconvinced. "Isn't it just a bro only party?"
"He's the one asking us to bring a plus one," Heeseung huffed, removing his head from your shoulder, a small pout on his face. "Worse part is that it's in a club,"
"Are you trying to persuade me or dissuade me?"
"What I mean is, I'll be with you there. It's also a VIP lounge given how loaded Jay is and knowing him, he probably rented it out too. Plus, they'll finally get to meet the girl who cussed them out!"
You buried your head into your hands in shame, embarrassment burning your cheeks red. "You can't be serious,"
"Unfortunately, I am. But they'll love you, don't worry, pretty,"
You glared at him while he only returned a cheeky grin back at you. “Fine,” you groaned out, ultimately succumbing to his words, unable to deny the effect he had on you. Curse him. “When and what time?”
“Next Saturday night,” his grin widened at your words, satisfaction washed over his face. “I’ll pick you up at 7?”
“Sounds good,”
“That’s that then,” he glanced over at his shoulders, hearing faint shouts of his name outside of the kitchen and passed you an apologetic smile, as if expressing that it was a shame he couldn’t stay longer and you couldn’t lie, you wanted him to stay longer. “Remember to send me your address, gorgeous.” he waved his phone in the air before backing away and disappearing out the door.
It was about to be a long week ahead.
“SET ME UP WITH ONE OF THEM, PLEASE. I NEED THE MONEY,”
Saturday, to your dismay, unfortunately and eventually arrived. You didn’t know whether to be excited or absolutely dread the party, a certain feeling of anxiety clawing at your insides just when you think about meeting new people. Yunjin could only roll her eyes at you as she added more eyeshadow.
“It already sends shivers down my spine thinking that I’ll be speaking to them in person and you expect me to go ‘hey guys, my friend needs someone to be her sugar daddy, you up’?” you deadpanned, applying a layer of lip gloss.
“That’s exactly it,” Yunjin smiled pleasantly and you feigned gagging, making Yunjin laugh and almost poking the mascara wand into your eyes. “Also, do you consider this a date?”
“He did say he wanted to take me out, but having him take me to a club as a date? I don’t think he’s the sleazy type to do so. I take it as him taking me as his date … like a friendly invite,”
“Friendly invite?” Yunjin exclaimed incredulously, inching closer to check on the details of your makeup. “Did you see the way he looks at you? There's nothing friendly about that, he’s hooked,”
“You’re giving me false hope, Jen,” you sighed, standing up to change into an outfit Yunjin picked which, in her words,was definitely ‘life changing enough to have Heeseung on his knees’.
“Not false hope if it’s literally just the truth,” Yunjin shrugged, helping to clasp a necklace around your neck. “Come on, give me a twirl,” she squealed excitedly once you were done struggling balancing on one leg putting on the dress and shoes.
You complied with Yunjin’s request, begrudgingly giving her a small twirl. At the same time, you took the chance to glance down at your dress, satisfied that for once an impulsive purchase benefited you. The dress was a shade of midnight blue, hugging your body tight and showing off your curves in the best way as if it was custom made. All in all, as Yunjin would describe, it was simply ‘pants dropping’.
At the ‘ping’ of your notification, you saw a text from Heeseung saying he had already arrived and your heart jumped. With one swift hug from Yunjin and an ‘encouraging’ saying along the lines of ‘hooking up’ and ‘protection’, you were pushed out of the door and soon into Heeseung’s car.
“Hi, pretty girl,” Heeseung greeted, a half smile on his face as his hands rested on the steering wheel. He paused when his eyes landed on your figure, his gaze sweeping you from top to bottom, making you a little self conscious. He whistled under his breath, blinking slowly.
“Eyes up here,” you stared pointedly at him, crossing your arms, but you had to admit, you were checking him out shamelessly as well, the smell of his vanilla cologne in the air and his loose button up shirt wasn’t helping either.
“My bad. I was just admiring you. You look pretty,” he turned his attention back to the road, heading to wherever the club was located, just in time to not notice the slight blush to your cheeks.
“Really? You don’t look too bad yourself either, Lee,”
“Why thank you. I’m flattered,” he shot you a wink and you could only roll your eyes at his antics.
The rest of the conversation continued in a casual flow, making you feel at ease and your anxiety eventually lessened. The jokes he cracked made you laugh and with the way he answered your questions, you knew he wasn’t anything like the playboy people made him up to be. As much as you hated to admit, you were giving him the benefit of the doubt. Will it hurt you? Maybe.
After Heeseung pulled the car into park, you got out and you were instantly in awe at the exterior of the club. This was in fact a place where rich kids party, judging from the amount of ferraris, mercedes and other luxurious cars parked outside, you made sure to keep yourself away from the snobby rich kids or who knows, Yunjin’s wish might even be granted tonight.
Wordlessly, Heeseung offered you his hand and you intertwined your fingers with his, letting him guide you further into the club as you pushed yourself through the crowd, and soon arrived in a large room that was almost the size of someone’s living room. “You’re kidding,” you murmured, amazed by the size of the room and the decorations littered across every wall.
“Told you Jay was blessed with money,” he leaned down to whisper in your ear, shooting a sweet smile.
“I should set him up with Yunjin,” you said thoughtlessly and Heeseung chuckled.
“He’ll like that roommate of yours,”
“Heeseung!”
You were interrupted by an approaching figure who was easily recognizable with that head of freshly dyed white hair. Park Sunghoon, another ace of the hockey team. Thanks to Yunjin’s valiant effort in finding every player’s instagram profile, you were now able to recognise who was who.
“Hoon!” Heeseung greeted back, giving his best friend a side hug.
Unfortunately for you, Sunghoon was quick to turn his attention to you instead. “Y/N right? Heard many good things about you,” he extended his hand, a sneaky grin on his face.
You accepted his handshake, fighting the urge to roll your eyes at his words. “That’s me,”
“You’re a regular at the hockey games, how are they?” Sunghoon kept you company now that Heeseung went away to greet the others, but you didn’t mind, finding yourself growing comfortable with the Jack Frost look alike.
“Do you wish to listen to my boring five hour analysis on each game?”
“I think it would be longer than five hours,”
“Exactly,” you clicked your tongue, then narrowed your eyes in suspicion at him. “Plus, how do you know I’m a regular? It’s not like I score front row seats every game,”
Sunghoon glanced around as if searching for anyone who’s eavesdropping, then he gestured for you to come closer, which you did, though clearly confused. “I think Heeseung will kill me for saying this,”
“Why?” you whispered back, your smile twisting into a frown. “Oh god, is Heeseung a stalker?”
“What?” it was Sunghoon’s turn to be utterly confused, staring back at you as though you’re the crazy one. He shook his head. “Heeseung might fool around sometimes but he’s definitely not a stalker or a Ted Bundy wannabe.”
“Thank heavens,” you let out a sigh of relief, but Sunghoon definitely wasn’t done yet.
“Anyway, what I was about to say was, Heeseung has always paid attention to you, Y/N. English class, hockey games, he’s got sharp eyes, ace for a reason eh? He’s genuine about you. Believe me, I’ve heard about you since day one, and I mean this in a nice way, but I’m sick of him constantly talking about you without doing anything at all,” a small grin appeared on Sunghoon’s devilishly handsome features.
“I must admit, he was a player, but I can see he’s changing and I don’t think it’ll hurt to give him a chance. He’s a sweetheart, so just don’t break his heart, will you?” he glanced behind his shoulders, noticing Heeseung entering the room with one of his teammates and a girl. “Heeseung’s back and I know he’s going to kill me if he finds out. It’s nice meeting you, Y/N. My date’s here, see you!”
Sunghoon gave you a small pat on the shoulder before walking away, leaving your head in a frenzy state. Lee Heeseung, captain of the hockey team, the school’s ace and pride, basically Mr Popular, was into you? Yunjin was going to strangle you in either excitement or surprise when she found out.
“What were you guys talking about?” he slithered smoothly to your side, bumping your shoulder gently.
“Hockey. Was wondering if he wanted an analysis on each game,”
Heeseung grinned, shaking his head gently. “You’re a menace,”
There were basically zero chances to be alone together, which you suddenly craved after Sunghoon basically dropped a big bomb on you, till now you still couldn’t swallow. Heeseung had you close to his side as he introduced you to each of his teammates and their dates, including the birthday boy Jay, and somehow all of them remembered you from that fateful night on Friday.
“So, how did you meet our dear Heeseung here?” Jay wiggled his eyebrows, passing you a glass of champagne that probably costs way more than you imagine.
“Oh, it was magical, I fell into his arms and he confessed his love for me,” you sighed dreamily, fanning yourself. At your words, Jay nudged you, a wide smile on his face and you waved your hand, stifling your giggles. “Kidding, it would totally be a wattpad cliche if that happened. He’s in my English class and we met at a party,”
“I’m surprised he’s somewhat won you over,” he raised a questionable eyebrow at you. “You are aware of how he was right? Or are you the type to scream and cry after figuring out his past fuckboy history?”
You gave him an unamused stare. “If I minded his past, I wouldn’t be here anyway. But he does seem like a changed person, I’ve heard stories from my roommate and they were … interesting,”
Jay let out a soft laugh at that. “I can tell he’s serious about you, trust me, he’s the type to not back down when he sets his mind to something. Let his hockey be an example,” he shrugged. “I know my best friend, Y/N. Unless he fucks up then I’ll punch him for you,”
You placed a hand on your chest, a bemused grin lit up your features. “You’re truly a gentleman, Jay,”
“Hey, I’m supposed to be your gentleman!” Heeseung appeared behind you, his arm thrown around your shoulder. If you could explode right now, you would. The amount of skinship you had with Heeseung was unhealthy and unknowingly, you found yourself succumbing to it each time. “Let’s go to the dancefloor outside? The guys really want to go,”
Now you were in the middle of the dancefloor, swaying your body to the beat of whatever song the DJ was playing and it was nice that it felt like you were in your own world, carelessly and mindlessly dancing to your heart’s content. You were surrounded by the boys’ dates, who you’ve found yourself befriending quickly, while Heeseung was nowhere to be seen after dancing for only a few minutes. Rude.
“Hi,” you snapped your head to find Jay squeezing through towards you, trying his best to not get his expensive shoe stepped on. “Where’s Heeseung?”
“That’s a question I’d like to ask too. He’s definitely not with me though. I thought he was with you at first … but I guess not,” you shrugged, frowning slightly as you wondered where that man would have run off to.
“I thought he was with you,” Jay huffed, annoyance clear in his features. “I swear if he’s out there wasted, coach is going to—wait…” he faltered, his gaze trailed over your head and being naturally curious, you followed his gaze, turning around and from a distance, you couldn’t tell what Jay was even looking at, until you pinpoint a familiar someone in a dress shirt you saw not long before.
There he was, sitting at the bar, back facing the dancing floor as he sat close to a girl, whispering into each others’ ears and laughing. You swore you didn’t care, but the heart doesn’t lie, you were jealous and it wasn’t helping how Sunghoon was just saying Heeseung was serious about you only hours before this. It was comical.
“Oh,” Jay said under his breath, taking a big gulp from the glass in his hand.
“Yeah, ‘oh’,” you said flatly, not realising you were practically shooting daggers into the back of Lee Heeseung’s head. Jay let out a small laugh that eventually turned into a cough once he saw you giving him a side eye, an apologetic smile appearing on his face.
“You know, Y/N, I have a plan,” his smile slowly turned into a smirk and it dawned on you, Park Jong Seong’s gears were in work and you didn’t know what you’re about to get yourself into. “Don’t give me that look, my plans are the best,”
Your frown deepened, resuming to give Jay a sceptical look as his smile continued to get more playful. Oh you were in for a treat. “Why don’t we make Heeseung … jealous? I mean, it is clear that he likes you, a little push won’t hurt can it?”
“Have you been watching too many romcoms?” you shot him a look of exasperation, noticing the similarity between him and Yunjin. One was already enough, you didn't need two. Jay nudged you softly, wiggling his eyebrows in encouragement for disaster.
“I bet you the moment he sees you with me, he’s going to burst and before you know it, you’ll be celebrating your one year anniversary—”
You held a hand up, silencing Jay before he could continue further. You started chewing on your bottom lip, a small habit of yours, as you found yourself in disbelief once these words left your lips. “Fine, why not?”
Jay shot you a wink, closing in on you and you placed a hand on his chest, raising an eyebrow. “No funny business, Jay,”
“You have no faith in me. It’s common bro code to not get with your best friend’s girl,”
You let Jay dance close to you, appreciating the fact that he was maintaining a respectful distance to you, setting a clear boundary between the both of you. Contrary to popular beliefs, he might actually seem not too bad. “I feel like Lee Heeseung might’ve been peeking at us,”
“You think so?”
Jay glanced at the direction of the bar, catching Heeseung’s piercing gaze and he smirked, leaning close to you. “Oh, he’s so watching us,”
"You're kidding," you turned around, still moving your body to the music, squinting your eyes to find Heeseung staring back at you, jaw clenched and lips pressed into a flat line, practically glaring daggers into Jay's head.
"You're not," you said mindlessly, hearing Jay burst out laughing behind you, but it all faded to grey as your eyes followed Heeseung's figure disappear behind a corner.
"He's leaving," you spun around, meeting Jay's panicked expression. "I'll go find him,"
"Did our plan work a little too well?"
"We’ll find out soon," you patted Jay's shoulder, whispering a quick thanks before welcoming the challenge of squeezing past sweaty bodies.
You figured Heeseung was heading back to the private room from the looks of where he was going, so you followed his trail around the corner, stumbling slightly and immediately regretting the amount of drinks you had. In the very next moment, you regretted more than just the drinks, you were contemplating your existence.
"Y/N?"
Son Matthew was staring back at your limp figure leaning against the wall for support, a mix of shock and confusion in his face. You, on the other hand, was about to sink into the ground in shame. Being tipsy and struggling to stand was already a moment you would never want anyone to see, let alone your cheating ex.
You cleared your throat, gripping onto the wall to straighten up, avoiding his wandering eyes as much as you could. The awkward tension in the air was palpable, you were aware how rigid the man before you was and you knew he probably didn’t think of bumping into you here out of nowhere.
“So…how are you—”
“Save the small talk please,” you interjected, sighing deeply at the usual post breakup ‘how are you’s and awkward catching up.
“Look, I never got to apologise and I know you hate me for it—”
“Of course I do!” you exclaimed, getting heated gradually and the alcohol in your system wasn’t helping one bit. “I walked in on you and her in the bedroom and you expect me to stand there to wait for your apology? It’s the fact that you never bothered to apologise after anyway,”
He looked down in shame, knowing every word you said was true and undeniable, meanwhile his silence only hurt you further. First loves always hurt, and seeing him here again after many years made you realise that you truly deserved way more than a hockey jock like him.
“I’m playing against your school’s team next week,” he said weakly, trying to change the subject. Great, another day to dread when it was supposed to be you and your best friend’s day.
“Good luck,” you didn’t know what to say, finding yourself in an awkward position. “Or not really,”
Matthew nodded slowly, clearly getting uncomfortable and you were too. “So, are you talking to someone now—”
“Yeah, she is,”
You felt an arm snaking its way around your shoulder, tensing for a minute until you realised whose voice it was.
“Lee Heeseung?” Matthew’s demeanour changed in a flash, suddenly seeming more spiteful and filled with jealousy. This was giving you deja vus of the red flags you’ve experienced in your past relationship. It made you feel sick.
“Son Matthew,” Heeseung cooed, eyeing him readily. Heeseung and Matthew had always been somewhat rivals ever since they started playing hockey. Matthew had mentioned a ‘rival’ once too many times in the past and lucky you, you were able to piece it together after entering college where you’d watched their teams play against each other once for a cup competition.
“Long time no see,” Heeseung said coolly, a small smirk on his face as he stared back at your ex, whose expression was twisting into a foul look. “Ready for the next game?”
At Heeseung’s mocking tone, Matthew scoffed. “You haven’t changed, eh? Still the usual overconfident Lee Heeseung,”
“They don’t call me ‘ace’ for no reason, right? Hey, I deserve some bragging rights,” you rolled your eyes at Heeseung’s words, which seemed to tick your ex further. He really knows how to rile someone up, doesn’t he?
“See you on the ice,” Matthew grumbled, walking past Heeseung and you, making sure to mumble ‘jerk’ loud enough for Heeseung to hear, prompting him to let out a laugh as he waved your ex tauntingly goodbye.
“How friendly,” Heeseung gritted out through a forced smile, his eyebrows furrowed, obviously annoyed but then he turned to you, a quizzical look replacing his previous agitated expression. “How do you know this guy? He’s a complete douche,”
“He’s my ex,” you admitted not so happily, noticing the slight surprise in Heeseung’s face.
“He wasn’t trying to do anything to you right?” Heeseung asked at once, his eyes flashed with worry as they darted around your face to your body. You softened at his words, shaking your head and reaching over to take his hand in yours.
“I’m fine, really. It was really awkward though,” you tried to laugh it off, but in reality you were so ready to dig yourself a grave. “You’re not wrong, he is a jerk and I don’t know what I even saw in him when he literally cheated on me,”
“Speaks a lot about his character for being so shit off and on ice. I’m sorry, Y/N, you deserved more than someone like him,” Heeseung squeezed your hand gently, passing you a consoling smile.
“It’s alright, Hee, I’ve gotten over him years ago. I hope you guys beat his ass next game,” you swung his hand lightly, beaming at his presence, but not noticing the fact that he was trying his best to hide a smile.
Heeseung cleared his throat. “I’ll trash him for you, Y/N,”
“Sounds like another challenge. I’ll take you up on it,” you smirked.
“You have to stop tormenting me, I swear,” Heeseung sighed wearily at your antics, but he couldn’t resist a lopsided grin. “Anyway, where were you even going?”
“To get a drink,” you blatantly lied through your teeth, unwilling to admit that you were actually looking for him. There’s one thing that Yunjin always preached and it was to never let a man know you’re chasing him. In times like this, you were about to listen to her teachings.
“You had fun dancing with Jay?” Heeseung smoothly brought up, completely having zero intentions of either sugar coating nor hiding his jealousy, and you were stunned by his straightforwardness, a small grin tugging at your lips.
“He offered me company, so I took up that offer. Someone here was off flirting with someone else, no? I thought you were a gentleman?” you said teasingly, but in secret, you had to admit you were a little upset. Just a little.
Heeseung stared back at you, a look of amusement and deadpan on his face.“I wasn’t flirting, Y/N. She was asking what drink I got since it looked funky and being the gentleman I am—” he gave you a smirk and winked, “— I answered her question, but she couldn’t hear me so I had to lean in. It’s genuinely a misunderstanding from someone else’s point of view,”
Noticing the slight lingering doubt in your features, he smiled at you reassuringly, throwing his arm around you and started guiding you back to the private room. “You do know I’m yours for the night, right? I won’t leave you for someone else. I told you I’ll have you by my side and I’ll stick to it,”
“Just for tonight?” you said curiously, peering up at him.
“What are you trying to say, Y/N?” he raised his eyebrow at you quizzically, but you just brushed it off, flushing a little at your own words, meanwhile Heeseung sneaked a small smile after noticing your panicky behaviour.
“Let me take you home,” Heeseung offered, pushing the door open to a room scattered with people here and there, some making out on the couch and some at the corner having small talks. The contrast was certainly there.
“What about the whole birthday celebration for Jay? Cake?”
“Oh he’s too drunk for that,” Heeseung waved his hand dismissively, as if this was a common occurrence. “Sunghoon will help him out, don’t worry,”
“If you say so … then I won’t decline your kind offer,” you furrowed your eyebrows, pursed your lips and stared pointedly at Heeseung. “Did you drink?”
“Mocktails, Y/N, mocktails. I’ve been pulled over before and trust me, I want none of that again,”
“Bad boy Heeseung … interesting,” you nodded slightly, a mischievous smirk on your face, to which was met with Heeseung unamused laugh.
“I’ll dump you here if you call me that again,” he huffed, picking up your jacket and bag.
“What happened to being yours for the night?” you said in a sing-song tone, looping your arm around his and pulled him through the door, making sure to wave a half-drunk Jay along the way out.
“Might have to make some adjustments then.”
“Mean.”
NEVER IN YOUR DREAMS WOULD YOU EXPECT YUNJIN TO absolutely embarrass Heeseung the moment he dropped you off at your doorstep. But that was exactly what had happened.
"Oh Heeseung," Yunjin opened the door with a hand placed on her hip, staring straight at Heeseung with a vague smile.
"Uh … hi?" Heeseung greeted back with uncertainty, panning back and forth between you and your roommate.
"Kissed Y/N yet?"
You and Heeseung immediately froze on the spot, blinking in question back at Yunjin, and you swore to yourself that you couldn't take anymore embarrassing moments for the night or else you'll soon be six feet under. You felt heat travelling up to your face and embarrassment crawling onto your skin.
"Well! Goodnight, Heeseung. Thanks for the ride!" you instantly pushed Yunjin back inside, closing the door but just enough for you to peek your head out.
"Don't mind her, she likes to think … outside the box sometimes!" you whispered to him, an apologising half smile on your face and ears burning a scarlet red, which Heeseung mirrored and finally after a last goodbye, he left and you were alone with Yunjin.
"I'll kill you, Huh Yunjin."
"Fuck."
It's been a few days since that interesting exchange and you've already texted Heeseung about it, being able to sigh a breath of relief when he was cool about it and sparing the trouble of chasing Yunjin around. Soon, with the mountain load of work, it was already Friday night hockey in a blink of an eye.
“You whore! You lying whore," Yunjin hissed, sucking her teeth. "I heard a specific someone is done with hockey boys? Is she in the room with us now?”
You were caught guilty at once, passing Yunjin a dirty look as you pulled Heeseung's jersey over your head. "It just … happened. Oh my God, am I actually in love?"
"Let's not jump to conclusions first, genius," Yunjin poked your forehead. "Do you like him?"
"Yes."
"No hesitation. I've truly lost you to him, huh?"
"You're always my number one, Jen," you rolled your eyes at her antics, picking your stuff up and starting to make your way out to the arena with Yunjin clinging onto your arm.
“But the problem now is who’s going to make the move first?” Yunjin hummed, chewing thoughtfully on her bottom lip.
“I’m hoping he would,”
“Why don't you do it?”
“This isn’t the first day we’ve been friends, Jen,”
“Right …”
Being somebody who's afraid of confrontation, you find yourself stuck in the middle. Currently torn between wondering if you were finally ready for something new and worrying if Heeseung would treat you right. 'He's serious about you' rang in your head from time to time and you couldn't lie, you started reciprocating the interest he had in you over time.
"If you like him, just go for him," Yunjin spoke out of the blue after a moment of silence, as if reading your thoughts and sensing something off. "I'm serious, Y/N. He's a nice, genuine guy, and seeing the way he treats you, you deserve someone that gives you their all,"
"Yunjin I'll cry right now," you stopped in your tracks, pouting at your best friend while she could only laugh, throwing her arms around you and continuing to drag you towards the arena.
"Aren't they playing our rival team today?" Yunjin recalled, frowning a little upon realisation. "That means he's there too, no?"
"Unfortunately," you pressed your lips into a thin line, breathing out slowly. "You do remember me telling you that Heeseung and I bumped into him at the party right?"
“Yeah?”
“They’re definitely going to cause a scene tonight, I can feel it in my bones,”
“It’s not that serious,”
“Remember Matthew’s lifelong rival since high school that I’ve mentioned before?”
“Don’t tell me it’s …”
“Heeseung. Small world, right?”
Yunjin raised her eyebrows in surprise, whistling quietly under her breath. "Quite unexpected," she said breathlessly, not realising that you were now already at the arena. "I'd love a fight,"
"You just love chaos,"
"And you're right," Yunjin smiled sweetly at you and you pushed her face away, earning a laugh from her. "Is Heeseung not meeting you pregame?" She nudged your side, raising her eyebrows expectantly with a knowing smirk on her face as she led you down to your usual seats in the arena.
"He did text me…" you said, seeing Yunjin's eyebrows rising higher. "But he said his coach is more strict for today so no pregame meetings,"
"Lame," Yunjin booed.
"He also said he's treating dinner tonight after the game,"
"Not lame," Yunjin switched up and practically almost jumped out of her seat, clapping her hands. "Let's feast tonight. Go team!"
"MAN, I NEED SOME POPCORN FOR THIS,"
Nervousness started creeping up on you as you witnessed the heated start of the game, both teams clashing roughly into one another and fouling left and right. Yunjin was entertained; you were worried and stressed.
"They keep fouling our team and no time outs, you're kidding," you threw your hands up in frustration, noticing other students grumbling as well.
"Are we surprised? Big games are like this," Yunjin shook her head, crossing her arm and leaned back into her seat.
Two periods went by rather quickly, both teams were tied and obvious vexation hung in the air. You noticed Heeseung was practically flying around, chasing the puck with vigor, bumping hard into other players in order to reach the goalpost, but to his dismay, he missed the shot, earning groans from many, you included.
The third period rolled over in a blink of an eye, the tension heightened as the two teams were finding ways to score desperately. Your eyes instinctively followed Heeseung's speeding figure, but something in your stomach told you things were about to turn sour real quick.
Heeseung was zooming across the defenders with ease, guiding the puck towards the goalpost, until a distinct figure, who happened to be the one and only, Matthew, skated up next to him and started causing trouble. You couldn't tell what was exactly happening, but the aggression between the two was getting heavier by each second.
Next thing you knew, Heeseung rammed into your ex, sending him flying to the glass panels, but that wasn't all. Heeseung completely forgo the puck, throwing his gloves to the side and skated up to Matthew, sizing him up.
Both teams were extremely caught off by this sudden fight between them, everyone started panicking the moment Heeseung grabbed Matthew by the neck, but your ex seemed unfazed and continued uttering something to him, leading up to the part where Heeseung punched the latter in the face.
You and Yunjin audibly gasped and so did everyone else in the arena, including the players on the bench and the coaches who were yelling over the noise. Those on the ice made their way to the fight, trying their utmost best to rip the two apart, but Heeseung had his hands practically glued on Matthew, not wanting to let go as he was seen screaming at him.
"I mentioned wanting a fight but not like this …" Yunjin muttered, now standing and occasionally tip-toeing to see what was happening. "Matthew obviously egged him on and pissed Heeseung off,"
"Heeseung has the worst temper on ice, he knew what he was doing," you frowned, getting worried as you watched the referee sending both of them to the penalty box. Heeseung threw his helmet on the floor in frustration, his wet strands of hair sticking onto his forehead.
"Well, at least the team is winning," Yunjin pointed out to the score line, where a glorious 3-2 was showing on the jumbotron. The home team managed to score the winning goal after the game was resumed, taking advantage of the opposition's bewilderment from the fight to mess their strategy up.
The crowd was cheering and jumping, food got scattered around onto the floor and the away fans could only leave in silence. Towards the end of the final period, Heeseung's penalty ended and he joined the team in exiting the ice, face still a little sour as his coach started telling him off.
“You should find him after this,” Yunjin tapped your side and you nodded in agreement, making sure to text him beforehand.
‘Locker room’ was the only thing he texted back and you slowly got anxious, curious as to what had really happened between him and your ex on ice. One thing’s for sure, it definitely wasn’t something good.
You stormed up to the doors of the locker room, heaved a breath of courage and pushed your way in. Lucky for you, by the time you got there mostly everyone was gone, except for Heeseung and Sunghoon, both sitting on a bench, whispering aggressively at one another. That was until Sunghoon caught your approaching figure, giving Heeseung a final word before standing up.
“Y/N,” Sunghoon passed you an awkward smile, a first aid kit in his hands. “I’ll leave him in your hands, I have an appointment with someone now,” he basically thrusted the box into your hands, whispering a quick apology and thanks before scampering away.
You felt helpless and confused as the box sat in your hands, then you started advancing slowly towards Heeseung and soon, you were standing directly in front of him, prompting him to stare up at you, still managing to crack a smirk even when his face looked rough. His left eye was bruised, lips cut and cracked and practically bleeding, his knuckles red and bruised. Overall, he was quite literally a mess.
"You're wearing my jersey,"
"And you're bleeding right now, is that important?"
"To me it is,"
"You're a fool. You have a bruised eye now," you fingers grazed against his cheeks, gaze travelling from one end to the other of his face.
"Do you still think I’m cute?"
"One more word and I'll add a bruise on the other eye," you gave him a side eye and he only responded with a chuckle, patting the empty spot beside him and you complied, sitting down and your shoulder touched his, leaving zero space between the both of you.
“What happened?” you hissed, staring pointedly at him as your hands dug through the items in the first aid kit.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” Heeseung grunted, nodding at your actions and you only returned an unamused look.
“I do, now stop avoiding my question,” you hissed, applying some ointment on his knuckles, causing him to flinch in pain, face screwed in discomfort. “What happened, Hee? I saw,”
Heeseung was reluctant, but he gave in eventually, anger evident in his gaze and tone. “It was your ex,”
“I know you are rivals, but you could’ve just ignored him—”
“No, you don't get it, I can’t! He was talking shit about you,” Heeseung ran a hand through his hair in frustration, adam apple bobbing as he tried not to burst out. "'Go back to that slut', 'do you enjoy my leftovers'. I can't just continue playing after the shit he said, there's no way I'll stand there and do nothing,"
"It's okay, Hee—"
"It's not," he huffed, his frown deepened, running a hand across his face. "It's not okay and I wasn't going to let that man call you names and walk free,"
You couldn't resist a smile, your heart thumping against your chest and your gaze softened, placing a hand on his. "Thanks for standing up for me. Really."
"I always will at any time, I care about you, Y/N, and I don't want anything bad happening to you," Heeseung blurted out, his face gradually turning red upon realising his own confession, making sure to seem nonchalant as he switched the topic. "You should've seen his face when I actually punched him. He was all talk only,"
"He's like that, unfortunately," you sighed as you finished wrapping some compressible bandages over his knuckles, whispering a quick 'sorry' when he winced.
“Honestly if you keep pulling these tricks on ice, I might think you’re into me,” you added boldly, referring to the other time where he dedicated a goal to you and he, too, realised the same, the tip of his ears turning a slight red.
“What if I told you I am?”
“Oh, I know,”
Heeseung leaned back, an amused grin plastered on his face. You couldn't tell if he's glad you knew or if he's in horror. "Am I that obvious? Am I too transparent?"
"Well, would you rather me be dumb and not take the hint?"
"Definitely not that," Heeseung leaned back closer to you, letting you clean the small cut on his lips. "I have a feeling someone ratted me out to you,"
"Partially, but I did have a feeling,"
"Motherfucker," he hissed under his breath, then his eyes widened, a look of panic flashed across his face. "So … you know I liked you before this, then do you … like me?"
You rolled your eyes, in disbelief these words were coming from the fuckboy himself. "If I didn't, I wouldn't be sitting here," you were finally done patching him up, placing everything back neatly into the box as he watched your every move. "You're fantastic at hockey but you're terrible at feelings, Hee,"
"I'm easily intimidated,"
"I didn't see you being intimidated while fighting,"
"Intimidated by pretty girls, I mean,"
"How charming," you mused, bumping his shoulder softly. "When and how did it even start, I thought you were the type to fuck around,"
"I've noticed you since English class and after some time, I saw you at my games too. I didn't want to approach you since I was worried you'd think of me differently because of my past—"
"Fuckboy-ness?"
"You could put it that way," Heeseung clapped his hands, leaning forward to rest his arms on his thighs. "I just liked you. You were funny at presentations, charming, passionate in things you liked. I wanted to get to know you better and after meeting you, it just … clicked,"
"But at the party, why did you even bother asking my name when you already knew who I was?"
"First impressions matter, Y/N. I didn't want to seem like a whole ass stalker,"
"You could've mentioned that you knew my name from English. 'Oh you're Y/N from English', there,"
"Are you teaching me how to flirt?"
"I'm teaching you how to flirt with me,"
"Alright then," Heeseung turned his body to fully face you now, a look of seriousness on his face. "Y/N from English, I like you. So much till the point where I feel suffocated. I don't care if you'll beat my ass after we lose and I'll listen to all of your analysis, will you go out with me?"
"Yes and I like you too, jackass. Now shut up and kiss me already," you wrapped a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in towards you and attached your lips to his, instantly melting against his touch the moment he snaked a hand across your jaw.
You couldn't believe this was happening, it felt like a dream. His lips were soft, the taste of mint on his tongue lingered, the feeling on his lips on yours was intoxicating. He was intoxicating.
Heeseung broke away momentarily, his forehead remained pressed against yours and you could feel his breath against your lips. "You're really romantic, Y/N,"
"You bet," you giggled in between kisses, your hands pushing him back a little as he practically chased your lips like a starved man. "You should go change,"
"Fuck, you're right," he glanced down at his hockey gear clad body. "It's getting late too, I'll drive you back. Want to stop by a drive through? I told you tonight's my treat,"
"I'm down,"
"Let me get my clothes, wait here," Heeseung stood up, ready to walk away but halting abruptly. "Tomorrow night, dinner, is that okay?"
"Are you asking me out on a date?"
"It's whatever you like,"
"Pick me up at 7,"
"On it," Heeseung nodded slowly, taking note of it mentally. "Also, does Yunjin want some food too?"
"If you buy her some, you'll immediately be on her good list, just saying,"
"You two are so alike, it's scary,"
"We're besties for a reason."
IT'S BEEN FIVE MONTHS EVER SINCE THAT NIGHT IN THE LOCKER room. You remembered coming home with Heeseung tailing behind you after, a bag of food in his hands and a welcoming Yunjin greeting him at the door.
"You two finally kissed, didn't you?" Yunjin mentioned carelessly in between bites of her burger and you swore you saw Heeseung's soul escaping his body. "That's the shade of lipstick Y/N wears on the side of your lips,"
Heeseung's hand flew to the side of his lips, touching the spot where you gave him a small peck of encouragement before getting off of the car.
"I'm glad you two are together," Yunjin continued, not noticing the flushed state you and Heeseung were in. "It's been months—oh God, I need to tell Jake this,"
And she did, leading to Jake calling you up the day after where he basically shouted through the phone. Since then, you had a plus one to every football game Jake played in.
"You guys are so annoying," Yunjin grimaced at the sight of Heeseung leaning his head onto your shoulder.
It was currently a Saturday night just after Heeseung's playoff match in which he scored three goals, so now, the team and your friends were at a nearby bar celebrating the victory.
"Stop being jealous," Heeseung defended, dropping his voice and closing in. "That's why I told you to go for Jay,"
"Him? Only God can put up with him, I barely know him and I already couldn't stand him,"
"Someone will eventually," you shrugged, taking a sip out of your mocktail.
"Good luck to them," Jake mumbled, holding his cup up for a toast and downed it all within the next second.
The night ended with a very drunk Yunjin along with many other drunk hockey players stumbling over their feet. Jake offered to take Yunjin home and she could only splutter out some responses, while you and Heeseung went by yourselves.
"If we can win the playoffs, I'll literally explode," Heeseung was currently the happiest man in the world, one hand holding his girlfriend while the other was close to touching the playoff trophy. He could ask for nothing more.
"It'll happen, Hee," you assured, running your thumb across his finger softly. "It's bound to happen, the team is strong. You have to believe my analysis too,"
"Pfft, fairs, your analysis does always hit the spot,"
"See? I'm always right,"
"Yeah yeah," Heeseung chuckled, pulling the car to park once you've arrived at your dorm's carpark and you two just sat there naturally, a sense of ambiance in the air as the radio played quietly in the background.
"I love you,"
Those three words were the first to break the silence. Heeseung looked like he was in disbelief although he was the one who said it first. Meanwhile, you were starting to smile like a fool.
"Did I—"
"I love you too, you idiot," you grabbed his face before he could continue, knowing well he'll end up rambling in the end. You pressed a chaste kiss on his lips, earning a stunned look from him until he eventually returned the favour.
"Was it too soon?" He mumbled against your lips as he gradually pulled away.
"I was actually wondering when you'll crack,"
"Fuck off," he scoffed, squeezing your cheek gently upon seeing your playful smirk. His gaze softened, eyes evidently filled with affection, anyone could literally vouch for how whipped this man was."I love you, stay by me forever, please,"
"Say less, captain."
Hockey boys might've scared you once, but this time, one of them ended up mending your broken heart and won you over instead, and thankfully, he was here to stay. For a long time.
#fic tag! win one win me#enhypen imagines#heeseung imagines#heeseung x reader#enhypen#enhypen fanfics#enhypen fluff#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen heeseung#lee heeseung#lee heesung x reader#enhypen scenarios#heeseung scenarios#kpop fanfic#enhypen smau#heeseung fluff#heeseung fanfic#enhypen oneshots#heeseung oneshots#heeseung smau#jake sim imagines#jake enhypen#jake sim#jake imagines#enhypen drabbles#heeseung drabbles#heeseung au#enhypen au#jay enhypen#jay imagines
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cheater, cheater, pumpkin eater
barcelona femeni x uswnt!reader
warnings: mentions of betrayal, tiny bit of angst, insecurities
Y/N L/n, an American forward on the Barcelona team had fire in her eyes when she stepped foot on the catalan pitch.
Leaving behind her life in the States to pursue her dreams in Barcelona was a sacrifice that she didn’t regret. The goals, her skills, and passion increased for football as she got the privilege to play for one of the best women’s clubs in the world. Y/n flourished in Barcelona. But despite her success on the field, her personal life was rocky.
When she left Gotham FC to play for the Catalan club, y/n left behind her boyfriend, Leon. The couple were distraught at the news but y/n promised to visit Leon during international breaks and holidays. At first, she was able to facetime her lover everyday. Guilt plastered on her features during the call sometimes, remembering that the long-distance was because of her decisions, but y/n knew that her career came first.
Y/N's heart was shattered when she stumbled upon the tweets above which revealed a painful truth: her boyfriend, Leon, had betrayed her trust. The news hit her like a thunderbolt, leaving her reeling with disbelief and heartache. She couldn’t believe it. Not her sweet Leon? Sometimes she trusted the boy more than she could trust herself.
Without hesitation, she blocked Leon on everything before he had the chance to defend himself. Instagram, Imessage, twitter, facebook, you name it. Y/n was disgusted and couldn’t believe that Leon would betray her, no excuses would make her forgive him.
The 21 year old girl hated two things. She hated feeling betrayed, and she hated vulnerability. The first one happened to her and she didn’t want to have anybody pity her about what happened. Yes, her two year relationship was flushed down the toilet but she tried her best to forget about it.
Determined to keep her emotions hidden, Y/N threw herself into her training everyday with even more fire, pushing herself to the limit with every sprint and every launch with her foot that sent the ball behind the nets. However, some of her teammates noticed the change in her demeanor, the way she buried her pain beneath a facade of strength.
“Y/n what are you doing?” Alexia called out across the grassy pitch. It was 5 in the evening and training ended for the team an hour before. The captain of the team, Alexia, noticed y/n’s familiar gym bag still in the locker room after everyone went home. Observing the younger girl who was dribbling the yellow colored ball with her ivory-colored cleats, she closed the huge space between them and saw the sadness in y/n’s eyes.
“Oh hi Ale! I'm just training for the game next week. I have to be prepared, you know?” Y/n chuckled to herself. The smile on her face went away when she noticed that Alexia wasn’t laughing with her.
“You’ve been training for the last three hours. You need rest most importantly.” Alexia said as she looked at y/n’s soft facial features. Something was clearly wrong with the younger adult, but she wouldn’t pester her about the problem until she absolutely needed to.
“I know. Can I please have 10 more minutes then i will-”
“No! you need rest. come on” Alexia kicked the ball away from y/n’s feet before holding her arm gently, pulling her into the locker room so y/n would stop overworking herself.
A week later, at the peak of her game against Eibar, y/n had scored two goals by the time halftime arrived. She's on fire and the crowd was chanting her on for a potential hat-trick. But as the game progresses, so does y/n's exhaustion.
In the 50th minute, she pushes herself a bit too far as she passed the ball towards Mariona. Falling to the ground, her vision goes black for a few seconds before pain shoots up in her lower back. Y/n hisses at the pain as she holds onto her back. Everyone around her knows that she is injured.
"Y/n? What's wrong?" As soon as the girl heard Alexia's feet run up to her and ask that question, y/n relaxes her face and stands up ignoring the pain in her back.
"Nothing, it was just a blow." Y/n looks at Alexia and Patri who stands beside her. The Spanish girls look at each other with a uncertain look before Alexia looks over and yells at their coach Jona, "está lesionada, no puede seguir jugando"
Y/n didn't know much Spanish but she had an understanding on what's happening when she notices her teammate, Esmee, stand up from the bench and start to warm up.
"Ale, I'm okay I promise!" Y/n cries.
"Y/n, we know you're not. Its okay--- You did a great job before this." Patri tries to calm Y/n down.
"You cannot play with a bad back. You aren't playing until the medic clears you!" Alexia gives y/n a stern look.
Despite y/n's protests that she's fine, her coach and teammates, including captain Alexia, are adamant about getting her off the field. Everyone noticed how overworked she was. Some figured out why through social media, others still didn't have a clue.
Y/N is frustrated, not just because of her injury, but because it's a painful reminder of the emotional turmoil she's been going through since her ex-boyfriend's betrayal weeks before. She tried to forget about it but every time she scored a goal, she wished that he was there to congratulate her afterwards.
Each goal reminded her how good she is. After Leon cheated on her with a Washington Spirit winger, she wondered if she was as good as the winger is. Everyone in the soccer world knew that Y/n was miles ahead of the DC player, but insecurities plagued the girl's mind.
Alone in the nurse's room, Y/N lets her tears flow. It's not just the pain of the injury; it's the weight of everything else she's been carrying. The nurse came in and assumed that the crying came from the pain from the girl's back, but y/n had to clarify that it was emotional.
Luckily, another doctor said that her back pain was caused from stress and nothing serious. However, she couldn't play for a few weeks so she could wind down and heal with massage appointments.
Y/n was relieved but felt torn at the idea of not playing until the new year. How is she supposed to occupy her mind from Leon?
An hour later, Y/n heard the door open which revealed Alexia, Ingrid, Esmee, and Frido. All of them entered with hesitation, hoping that Y/n wouldn't kick them out. All of them could see through her facade. They know something deeper was bothering her.
"Hi (reader's nickname), how are you feeling?" Ingrid spoke with a soft voice, sitting beside y/n on the bed as she pulled a piece of hair behind her small ear.
"I'm fine, how was the game?" y/n asked. All of the girls, except for her, look over at Esmee with a smile.
"This girl over here subbed on for you and got a hat-trick. we won 5-0 because of you and her." Frido said. Y/n smiles brightly (for the first time in days) as she looked at her best friend with a shy smile.
"No way! Great job Es!" Y/n hugged the dutch.
"Thank you." Es responded.
"Y/n--- what did the doctor say when she came in?" Alexia spoke up, changing the conversation.
"The doctor said I'll be out for 2-3 weeks." Y/n said. Alexia's eyebrows knitted as she sat beside y/n, opposite side of where Ingrid sat.
"Why?" Alexia asked as she wrapped her arm around Y/n's shoulders.
"She suspects that I've been overworking myself, which is what caused my back blow. I have to go to physical therapy for massage treatments until I am better." Y/n spoke.
"Will you be able to go on international break?" Frido asked as she pulled one of the metal chairs in the room by the bed, she sat down looking at y/n with a sympathetic look. Y/n's eyebrows raised as she realized she had an upcoming friendly with the USWNT.
"I don't think so." Y/n responded.
"Look, we care about you a lot y/n. We've noticed how much you've been overworking yourself. This has never been an issue before, is there something wrong?" Ingrid asked. Everyone noticed the dry tears on her dimpled cheeks, but they didn't want to force the girl to talk.
"Um- I-" Y/n tried to speak before looking at Esmee, who sat at the foot of the bed. The dutch woman looked at Y/n with an urging look. She scrolls online outside of football and came across the source to what might've been hurting her best friend the last few weeks.
"(reader's nickname), is this about Leon?" Esmee spoke up. Y/n flinched at the sound of his name before biting her lip. The older women raised their eyebrows with questions in their minds.
"Yes." Y/n answered before a tear came down her right eye. Alexia wiped it with her thumb before holding the younger girl tightly.
"Niña, did something happen between you and him?" Alexia asks. The blonde never tries to intervene with the team's personal lives, but as a captain it is necessary when moments like this happen. Ale had an idea on who "Leon" was but she didn't know him personally.
"He um--" Y/n coughed. She realized she couldn't say it without breaking down, so she looks at Esmee with permission to speak for her.
"From my understanding, Leon cheated on y/n and started dating one of her old teammates in America." Esmee looked over at Y/n, hoping she explained the situation right. Y/n nodded her head, slowly, showing that Esmee explained the situation perfectly.
"When did this happen?" Frido asked.
"It happened two weeks ago." Y/n whispered. Alexia felt guilty at this news, she knew something was wrong but didn't understand how bad the situation is.
"I'm so sorry sweetheart.. Why didn't you tell us this happened?" Ingrid holds onto y/n's right side and Alexia held onto her left. Y/n started to cry again, realizing she could've avoided her injury if she spoke up about her problems.
"I didn't want to burden you guys with my problems." Y/n responded.
"You're not a burden. We might be your teammates but we are your sisters too. That Leon guy is an asshole and what he did is on him, not on you." Frido spoke as she held y/n's knee.
"Exactly. You're one of the best wingers and what he did to you wasn't because of your performance on the pitch. He is insecure and you deserve better." Ingrid said.
"You can come to us with any problems you have. Or you can come to me if it's personal. You're not alone." Alexia placed her chin on top of y/n's head, still holding onto her.
"I know--- but football was my escape from him. It's not that I didn't trust you guys, but I just didn't want to deal with what happened. As long as I played football and trained, my mind wasn't on him. That's why I've been overplaying." Y/n, in a vulnerable state, spoke up about her mindset on the situation.
"We love you y/n, you'll feel better about this and someday you won't even remember that jerk's name." Esmee spoke up. Y/n giggled at the shy girls statement.
As y/n embraced the comfort from her teammates, she begins to see that her healing now wasn't just physical—it's emotional too. And with her team by her side, she knows she'll come back stronger, both on and off the pitch.
<3
#barcelona femeni#fc barcelona#woso fanfics#woso community#woso x reader#uswnt x reader#alexia putellas#ingrid engen#fridolina rolfö#frido rolfö
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All the boys PT2
Pairing: Jude Bellingham x reader, Logan sargeant x sister!reader, f1 grid x reader
Summary: who is reader soft launching???
A/N: yay part 2
Fc: Hannah Harell
Pt 1
___________________
yourusername
liked by logansargeant carlossainz trentarnold66 and 7,303,667 others
yourusername ❤️💋🌹
user1 WHO IS HEEEEE
user2 y/n please 😭
user3 oh look, it’s litteraly Carlos
↳ user4 it’s actually Oscar
↳ user5 that’s Daniel idc
judebellingham 🤨
user6 i don’t even care who it is, they’re so cute
↳ user7 ikr im so happy for her
trentarnold66 😜
↳ yourusername bro why r u here
↳ trentarnold66 girl shut up
↳ yourusername gtfo
user8 ^^^ what is happening with Trent 😭
user9 JUST TELL US WHO HE IS ITS BEEN LIKE SIX MONTHS
user10 she’s so fine
Yourusername
liked by logansargeant masonmount and 5,445,708 others
yourusername happy bday big bro! Please don’t lose ur job, I only talk to you for paddock passes. In all seriousness, I love you and thanks for being the best big brother a girl could ask for ❤️❤️❤️ (surprised you’ve kept it a secret this long).
tagged logansargeant
load comments…
user11 WHAT
user12 BROTHER??????
user13 they’ve been related the whole time? 😭
user14 happy bday Logan
judebellingham happy birthday Captain America
↳ logansargeant thanks mate
liked by yourusername
user15 Jude lmao
oscarpiastri thank god you’ve said it, one less secret for me to carry
↳ yourusername so dramatic
↳ oscarpiastri you try keeping a secret for 15 years. You’d be dramatic too.
↳ yourusername 🙄
user16 siblings????
TWITTER
INSTAGRAM
yourusername
liked by judebellingham carlossainz and 6,788,010 others
yourusername already drunk but f it we ball
load comments…
user17 just the most American caption you’ve ever seen
user18 still shocked from this morning
user19 is she there with her boyfriend???
trentarnold66 ur man is looking 4 u
↳ yourusername y u talking 2 my man
↳ trentarnold66 girl idk im just as drunk as u
↳ trentarnold66 being fr come get him tho
↳ yourusername omw pookie
user20 wait is Trent with them too?
↳ user21 he’s friends with max so probably, yeah
user22 I need pics from the rest of this party asap
oscarpiastri piccreds: me, tf? I didn’t suffer through you making out with your bf in the backseat for this.
↳ yourusername guys, Oscar took the pictures. Everybody clap 4 Oscar.
↳ oscarpiastri I’ll excuse the sarcasm on you being drunk
↳ yourusername boo 🍅🍅🍅
user23 oh she’s so drunk
user24 so her boyfriends there
yourusername added to their story
↳ trentarnold66
DELETE DELETE DELETE
↳ masonmount
LMFAO
↳ oscarpiastri
Hey girl, this isn’t ur close friends
TWITTER
INSTAGRAM
yourusername
liked by trentarnold66 judebellingham and 11,001,432 others
yourusername i may have been drunk but I wasn’t wrong (ily Jude, happy 4 years)
load comments…
user24 FOUR YEARS!?!?!?!
user25 the caption lmao
user26 she for sure wasn’t wrong
judebellingham ily2 ig 😒 (happy 4 years❤️)
user27 I’m in love with both of them tbh
user28 I’ve thought she was soft-launching Oscar this whole time dhmu 😭
↳ oscarpiastri no I’ve unfortunately had to witness their gross relationship for years now
↳ yourusername you should learn to be nicer
↳ oscarpiastri don’t make out with him in front of me whenever we’re in the same car anymore and then I’ll be nice to you.
↳ yourusername 😒
user29 what????!!!! 😭
logansargeant woohoo
↳ yourusername 🤨 enthusiasm please.
↳ logansargeant woohoo!
↳ yourusername thx ig
#daniel riccardo imagine#daniel riccardo x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x female reader#f1 x reader#f1 smau#f1 x y/n#jude bellingham x reader#logan sargeant x reader#jude bellingham x you#jude bellingham x fem!reader#f1 x you#soccer x reader#football x reader#football imagine#jude bellingham smau#daniel ricciardo
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omg hai...... can i please request a loserumi (narumi) of him religiously admiring an idol!reader.. like he'd almost always show up to all her concerts and fan meetings to the point where his followers would always upload posts of him getting seen fanboying in public 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
— narumi gen, japan's strongest anti-kaiju combatant biggest fanboy ever.
characters: narumi gen (kaiju no.8) x idol fem!reader genre/warning: kinda headcanon format, none i think a/n: this is such a new concept to me so it took me a while to come up with something. thank you for the req anon! hopefully you don't mind me using kpop as the ref since i'm more versed in that compared to irl jp idols TT
pt.2
loser!narumi who undoubtedly has a stan account of you, his favourite artist across all social medias where he posts fancams, edits, merchs, etc.
loser!narumi who probably has a lot of customized/official jerseys with your name and birthday number printed on them. even sets his lockscreen with a picture of him wearing it or something.
loser!narumi who listens to your songs religiously and learns almost all of your choreographies. he's girlypop like that.
loser!narumi who has a 'y/n shrine' at home where he puts all of your albums, photocards, posters and prints that he got (also most likely he has a flag of your face on japan's logo hung in his bedroom. if you know that kpop idol on american flags, then you'd know what i mean).
loser!narumi who's your biggest defender and truther, he's never letting a hater of yours even breathe peacefully they gotta sleep with one eye open every night (he fights with them on twt and insta on a daily basis).
loser!narumi who definitely trash-talks Dispatch whenever you accidentally/mistakenly end up in a dating allegation.
loser!narumi who takes impromptu day offs from his captain duties in order to attend every single one of your concerts/fansign/cupsleeve events, especially when you're doing a tour in japan. he's in disguise, of course (japan would definitely riot if they see their cherished protector so much as mundanely breathe the outside air).
loser!narumi who still gets noticed by your other fans during said events. not like he tries that hard to hide himself anyway. not when he's loudly cheering along the fanchants during concerts, your lightstick held in his hand and he's screaming your name at the top of his lungs like his life depends on it (it does, he thinks).
loser!narumi who still pathetically denies the pictures of him posted on social media, saying he had a doppleganger or some shit (boy you ain't slick wtf that's clearly your ass squealing and dancing there).
loser!narumi who goes absolutely batshit crazy when you make eye contact with him or look directly at his camera when he's filming you or hold his hands and talk to him so sweetly during fansign events.
loser!narumi who giggles to himself, rolling around in bed, kicking his feet and shit whenever you reply to his comment during your live stream.
loser!narumi who always brings along a photocard of yours everywhere he goes, even during missions. "that one's for you, y/n!!!" *proceeds to kiss your photocard repeatedly* —narumi after killing a kaiju, probably.
loser!narumi who's a teensy bit delulu thinking one day he might be the one to have you, his dearest idol whom he loves so much <3
©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !
#rye.works#idk what is this... I REALLY TRIED OK#cackled a bit too hard at that flag part LMFAO#but yes idol or not narumi will always be a loser for you teehee#kaiju no. 8#kaiju no 8#kn8#kaiju no. 8 x reader#kaiju no 8 x reader#kaiju no 8 x you#kn8 x reader#kn8 x you#kn8 x y/n#narumi gen#narumi gen x reader#narumi gen x you#gen narumi#gen narumi x reader#gen narumi x you#narumi gen fluff
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The Awarded Silence
pairings: alexia putellas x lyonnais!reader / lucy bronze x lyonnais!reader / mary earps x lyonnais!reader / sarina wiegman x lyonnais!reader + mapi and ingrid cameos!
warnings: very awkward. angst. swearing.
author's note: lucy meddling with her two captains... nothing good can come of that, can it? hope you all enjoy this third part! also I’m aware the gif is not the right award ceremony, but couldn’t find a better gif.
part 1 | part 2 | masterlist
•••••••
With the end of a season also came the prestigious award shows, something both Y/N and Alexia were all too familiar with. Although it was different this time around; it would be the first time they would actually go up against each other in the big categories.
It was clear to everyone who would be walking away with each one of them. Not only had Y/N walked away with both the European Championship and the Champions League title, she'd been named the MVP of both those tournaments. Some of the media were trying to hype it up as another competition between them, but even Alexia was aware she had no chance of walking away with anything as long as Y/N was nominated for it as well.
First one up had been the UEFA Women's Player of the Year, which Y/N had taken home, alongside Sarina who had won for Women's Coach of the Year.
That was followed up by the Ballon d'Or. It was a big deal as they were the clear frontrunners, and whoever won would become the first player to win the accolade for a second time. Again, Y/N made history and had accepted the gold award. Alexia hadn't gone to the ceremony, citing illness as the reason why.
The England captain had been upset by her absence, she hadn't seen nor spoken with Alexia in months and had hoped the ceremony in France would have been an opportunity to catch up. She'd smiled when the midfielder sent her a congratulatory message, along with a shout-out on her Instagram story- stating how she was deserving of the award.
It would take a few more months before they'd see each other, at ‘The Best FIFA Football Awards' in Paris. Along with being nominated for Best Women's Player, they would both be featured in the Women's World 11.
The first interaction came when they were hastily put next to each other as they received their trophies. As the cameras clicked, Y/N and Alexia exchanged smiles that masked the tension between them.
''I think it would be difficult for anyone to beat this team.'' Lucy grinned, speaking into the microphone that was attached to her cheek.
The women received another applause and made their way off the stage, handing over their trophies that would be handed back to them at the end of the ceremony.
A few winners later, Kylian took the stage to present ‘The Best FIFA Women's Player' award. They showed a pleasant montage of Alexia, Y/N and Alex- a compilation of their season's highlights.
Y/N felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. She knew the PSG player would call out her name, but you never knew if they wanted to stir up some controversy.
The England captain was sat on the first row, meanwhile some of her teammates and fellow female players were scattered in the other rows. Alex sat right behind her, while Alexia sat on the other side of the room with her Barcelona teammates.
The room hushed as Kylian unfolded the envelope. ''And the Best FIFA Women's Player is… Y/N Y/L.''
Applause erupted, and Y/N nervously got up from her seat. On the pitch, the striker was confident, but making speeches in front of a full room filled with people in power and fellow players, was not something she had gotten used to.
The Brit turned around and reached her hand out for Alex to take, a silent sign of respect for the season the American had had. She would have done the same if Alexia had been seated there, but walking to the other side of the room would have taken too much time.
Y/N carefully walked up the stairs, trying not to fall as she was wearing heels. Kylian noticed, and made his way over to offer his arm to her. She smiled, and accepted, holding onto the striker's arm.
He congratulated her, pressing three celebratory kisses on her cheek. ''Félicitations, Championne.'' (''Congratulations, Champion.'') Kylian said.
''Merci.'' (''Thank you.'') Y/N grinned, and she took her place at the microphone.
''Uh, thank you so much to all the people that voted. It's a big compliment to have your fellow players and coaches vote for you, so thank you so much.'' She started off, her voice a bit shaky as her eyes darted around the room.
''I, also, quickly want to acknowledge Alex and Alexia. It's an honour to be nominated alongside you, and I want to thank you for all the contributions you have made so far and for the great football we get to see from you. Thank you.'' Y/N glanced at both of them, giving them a nod as the crowd applauded them.
The camera panned to both women. The American striker mouthed a ''Thank you'' to the younger player, once teammates at Lyon. Alexia clapped, but maintained a composed facade.
She had also clapped when the Brit's name was announced, concealing any type of disappointment she felt. While she had anticipated the outcome, the sight of Y/N claiming the award instead of her was something hard to swallow- in the same way it had been hard to watch her rival lift the Champions League trophy the previous year.
Her applause was genuine, and deep inside she knew that Y/N deserved it more than her, but Alexia would never admit that out loud. As the striker continued her speech, the midfielder struggled with being happy for her colleague, while dealing with her own unspoken desire for recognition.
Lucy, seated beside Alexia, offered her a knowing smile. The Barcelona defender had seen it from close by, how everything was a competition for them. She'd noticed it at her new club, where the lost finals against Lyon served as reminders for the team to do better, and to not let that happen again. She'd noticed it in her England teammate, and how tense she had been before the friendly against Spain.
On the other side sat Mapi, concerned over how her friend was handling it. ''It's okay, Ale.'' She whispered in their native language.
''I know, it's just an award.'' Alexia replied, not taking her eyes off Y/N.
The Spanish defender dropped it, giving Ingrid a look before focusing on the winner as well.
''… cause I couldn't have done it without them. Uh, yeah, congratulations to all the other winners as well. Thank you.'' Y/N concluded.
The audience applauded one last time, and she got off the stage. She hid her face in embarrassment as Mary whistled loudly, feeling hot as her friend hyped her up.
After was seemed like forever, the ceremony was done.
Most attendees got up from their seats, but didn't leave the main hall as they walked over to catch up with people they knew or to get to know other people.
Y/N got up after about a minute, deciding to go talk to Christiane and Wendie, her Lyon teammates. However, the universe or someone called Lucy Bronze had better ideas.
''Hey, Captain.'' She heard the defender greeting her.
As the striker turned around, she was met with a surprise. There stood Lucy, accompanied by none other than Alexia Putellas. The Brit wore a smile, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
''Hi, Bronzey.'' Y/N responded, slightly caught off guard.
The English internationals shared a hug, Lucy whispering a congratulations in her ear. ''Thanks, you too.''
As the two parted, Y/N's eyes fell on an awkwardly standing Alexia.
''Y/N, meet Alexia. Alexia, this is Y/N.'' Lucy said, her eyes darting between the pair.
The two captains exchanged an uneasy glance. ''Uh, yeah, we know each other, Luce.'' The striker stated, feeling very uncomfortable with the situation.
Lucy chuckled, completely unfazed by the discomfort she had purposely created. ''Oh, I know. It's just that fans online were saying that they wanted me to have you guys become friends, so I'm just keeping my promise to them.''
Y/N and Alexia forcibly grinned at the admission, both aware of what people said about them on social media. The latter cleared her throat. ''Uh, congratulations again. You really deserve it.''
The Lyon player nodded, a somewhat more genuine smile appearing. ''Thanks, I appreciate. You as well, with the, uh, World 11.''
''Thank you.''
Another pause hung in the air, the atmosphere thick with awkwardness. It was as if their shared teammate had conspired to make this encounter as uncomfortable as possible.
''Oh, there's Sarina, excuse me, ladies.'' Lucy swiftly escaped, using their Dutch coach as part of her scheme.
That left the players facing each other. The tension was uncomfortable, and neither seemed eager to break the silence that had settled between them.
After a moment, Y/N was the first to give in. ''So, how is your knee doing?'' She asked, noticing the Spaniard was no longer holding onto her crutches.
Alexia's eyes briefly flickered towards Lucy, who was signing with her hands to keep going. ''Uh, good. Yeah, if everything goes to plan, I should be ready by the end of the season.'' She replied, a small smile present.
''So… World Cup ready then?''
The Catalan shifted on her feet at the mention of the tournament. ''That's delicate right now.''
''Oh, how, uh, is that situation going at the moment?'' Y/N had momentarily forgotten about the mutiny going on in the Spanish national team. She knew Alexia supported the girls that had made themselves unavailable, but they'd never had any conversations about it.
Alexia shrugged her shoulders. ''It's being worked on, it's… a lot.'' From the way she was speaking, her colleague could sense it wasn't a topic the midfielder wanted to happily chat about.
''I understand. I just want to say that a lot of people are behind you guys, and want to see change happen,'' Y/N softly spoke, ''me included.''
''Thank you.'' Alexia sounded genuinely grateful for her words.
Y/N has been a huge advocate for women's football ever since she became a professional player, so her acknowledging the Las 15's stance meant more to Alexia than she could express.
''Sorry, could I get a picture of you two?'' One of the official FIFA photographers interjected, pointing at the two of them.
The pair shared a look, seemingly asking without words if the other was okay with it. They nodded at each other, and hesitantly put their hands on one another's back, posing for the camera.
''Thank you.'' The man thanked them, walking over to another group of players.
''It was nice talking to you. I'm, uh, gonna see what my teammates are up to.'' Y/N politely excused herself. The conversation was turning out more bearable than how it started, but she still wanted nothing more than to leave.
''Same. Um, good luck with your matches, and maybe we see each other in the semifinals?'' Alexia hinted at a potential Champions League clash.
The Lyon striker chuckled. ''We'll see, Putellas. Have a nice night.''
As Y/N made her way to her teammates, Alexia watched her departure with mixed emotions. Yes, she was happy that they'd had a conversation. But, it was frustrating that there still seemed to be a wall between them, and a big one at that.
What was it that always held them back from truly opening up to one another?
''You know she's going to kill you once she's finished with that conversation, right?'' Mary said to her fellow Lioness, subtly taking a glimpse at Alexia and Y/N.
Lucy smirked, her eyes barely leaving her two captains. ''Who? Y/N or Alexia?'' She laughed.
''Both.'' Sarina and Mary chorused, laughing now as well.
''Nah, they'll have to work together for that. Never gonna happen.'' She continued joking.
The England coach shook her head. ''Why are you doing this again?''
''Because I wanna have fun, and although I am happy with my little trophy, this show is super boring. Just want to spice things up,'' Lucy explained, ''besides, fans will love it. The Queens of football talking together. La Reina and La Reine.''
Sarina and Mary exchanged skeptical glances, unsure of how either players would react. ''I'm not so sure Y/N will appreciate your idea of fun.'' Mary commented.
''Oh, what could go wrong?'' The defender genuinely did not see the problem. ''See, they're even taking a picture together.'' Lucy pointed out, seeing the pair in front of the photographer.
After the picture, Y/N gracefully excused herself and began walking towards where Lucy, Mary, and Sarina were standing. She joined the trio with a forced smile, attempting to suppress any visible signs of annoyance.
''Nice reunion there?'' Sarina tried to lighten her captain up, noticing her gloomy expression.
''We talked.'' She answered. It wasn't a proper response, more like a factual statement.
Y/N wasn't sparing Lucy a glance, the defender, however, remained unfazed. ''That's nice.''
''Congrats, by the way, darling. No one deserves this more than you.'' Mary tried to deflect, not a fan of the tension. Sarina smiled at the reminder of all the awards her team collected. ''Yeah, congratulations.''
''Thank you, you too, Mearps. You almost made me cry with your speech. Sarina, you didn't make me cry, but yours was really nice as well.'' She turned to her coach, managing to still make a teasing comment.
Sarina laughed. ''Well, thank you.''
''Uh, I'm gonna say hi to my, uh, other teammates.'' Y/N nodded her head towards where Wendie and Christiane were standing with some of the Lyon staff.
She then glanced at Lucy. ''Or you want to set that up for me as well?'' She sarcastically chuckled.
''Hey, come on. I thought you guys were friends now.'' Lucy said, a lame attempt at defending herself.
''Who said that?'' Y/N frowned.
''Jill.'' The defender retorted.
''What a source,'' the captain scoffed, ''we're not friends, and I don't need you to make us friends.''
''How bad was that conversation that you're this pissed at me?'' Lucy asked, not expecting her friend to be this irritated over her actions.
''Just don't do that ever again. It was fucking embarrassing.'' With that, she made her way over to her Lyon teammates.
Mary and Sarina slowly glanced back to Lucy, whose smirk had been practically smacked off of her face.''What could go wrong, aye, Bronzey?''
On the other side of the room, Alexia carefully walked over to Mapi and Ingrid after Y/N excused herself from the conversation.
''You look like you need alcohol.'' The Spanish defender noted, taking in her friend's expression.
Alexia sighed, smoothing her hair down. ''Neither of us enjoyed that.''
''Lucia really did you dirty there.'' Mapi responded, glancing to where her teammate was speaking with the England camp.
Ingrid offered a sympathetic smile. ''I think she had good intentions, she meant it well.'' She chimed in.
The Barcelona captain nodded. ''I know, but it was so awkward.'' Alexia grimaced, cringing at the reminder of how the two football stars had just uneasily stood in front of one another.
''You'll be fine,'' Mapi caressed her back, ''one day you'll be able to laugh about this, trust me.''
Alexia gave her an unimpressed look. ''I'd rather not.''
The defender glanced at her girlfriend. ''So oblivious.'' She whispered to Ingrid.
''What was that?''
''Nothing.''
#woso x reader#woso fanfics#woso imagine#alexia putellas fic#alexia putellas x reader#lucy bronze x reader
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love me like you hate me II Millie Bright x Reader
masterlist I word count: 2215
a/n: thanks to the anon who requested this, we hope you all enjoy it. 😌
It almost felt like your first day of school.
Nervousness mixed with excitement in the pit of your stomach.
Joining Chelsea was a brand-new start for you. You had spend the majority of your life in Lyon, going through all of Olympiques youth teams. So transferring to a new club in a different country felt like a huge step but Sonia Bompastor, your former coach at Lyon, had wanted you in her new team and you knew that you could trust her judgement.
That’s why you were now taking your first steps on Chelseas training ground, ready to join your coach and your new teammates.
Sonia gave you an encouraging smile before she turned to her players. “Bonjour, girls. Before we begin, I want to introduce someone to you. This is our new player, y/n.“, she said in her heavily accented English.
You waved nervously at the others: “Salut.“
At least there were some familiar faces smiling back at you.
Sonia continued: “We worked together in Lyon. She is already very experienced for her age and she will play Centre back. We brought her in to ‘ave more competition at this position, especially with Millie.“
“Excuse me, what?!”, a tall, blonde woman said incredulously. Millie, you assumed.
Sonia shrugged: “That is football, Millie. It will ‘elp you improve.“
“Oh, wow. But I’m the captain. I…“, she started, seemingly unsure how to express her anger.
“Someone’s scared.“, Lucy teased. She was one of the few people you already knew from her time at Lyon, back when you had just joined the senior team.
Millie rolled her eyes at her teammate: “I’m not scared of a child.“
“I’m not a child. I’m 22.“, you protested, studying the older woman that you would have to compete with. Your heart sank a bit. She was a European champion, a regular starting player for her club and country and while you had your fair share of trophies, contending for the same position with her would be no easy task.
Millie gave you an unimpressed look: “You’re barely out of girlhood, you still got a lot to learn. Welcome to Chelsea, this will be very different to Lyon.“ There was an icy edge to her voice as she said the last part.
Hushed whispers passed between the other players.
“I’m sure you two will get along well.“, Sonia said but you weren’t sure if she was being naively positive or if it was just irony. It didn’t matter. Millies behaviour towards you had already made your blood boil and you refused to let her have the last word in this.
As the team slowly started to disperse for their warm-up, you caught up with the blonde defender: “Good luck, Millie. I won’t make this easy for you.“
She barely even looked at you when she replied cooly: “Don’t worry. I won’t either.“
Before you were able to answer Catarina Macário wrapped her arms around you for a tight hug. “Y/n, good to have you back in the team.”, the American beamed at you. Back in Lyon you two were good friends likely because of the small age difference between you both. Also, it was her who helped you with improving your English skills. Admittedly, it felt good to see her again especially after the frosty exchange you had with your new captain.
“I can’t wait to play with you again.”, you told her excitedly.
“Very good decision from Sonia to get you.”, she grinned.
“She was very convincing during her phone calls. And to honest I needed a change of scenery.”, you confessed with a crooked smile on your lips.
“Did you get tired of getting tackled by Wendie during training?”, Catarina teased you amused.
“Yes.”, you nodded chuckling while you received another pad on the shoulder from a familiar face.
“Missed us kid?”, Lucy asked winking.
“Of course I did.”, you responded in an honest tone.
The older defender looked at you more closely before she confirmed. “Me too.”
A few days had passed since your introduction, the team has flown to the US for a preseason tour and the first stop was New York. On the way to the hotel Millie sat down next to Lucy. From the bus windows they could see the famous skyline of the city, but the Chelsea captain didn’t had eyes for that, she felt the urge to talk to her England teammate about you.
“Why are you so nice to y/n, she’s so arrogant, Lucy.”, the blonde huffed.
“No, she’s sweet.”, Lucy disagreed smiling.
“Not with me, have you seen how she attacks me in training?”, the younger defender countered frustrated.
“It’s not that bad, Millie.”, the dark-haired player assured her smirking.
” When we were young, we wouldn’t have dared to play like that with older players in our team.”, Millie shook her head.
“Well times are changing. And I like that aggressiveness.”, the older woman reminded her.
“Of course you do. God, I just hate her so much.”, she groaned. Much too late Millie realized that you had heard her last words. Immediately when the bus stopped in front of your hotel you were the first to leave it.
“Looks like you have something to fix, skipper.”, Lucy observed.
“Shit, I obviously didn’t mean hate just that she frustrates me so much.”, the Chelsea captain mumbled biting her lip guiltily.
“Tell her that not me.”, her England teammate replied sounding serious.
“Cat our captain hates me.”, you whispered in your friend’s ear, sitting on your suitcases in the huge lobby while waiting for your room keys.
“Millie doesn’t hate anyone.”, Catarina objected gently.
“But you heard her.”
“She clearly didn’t mean it.”, she gave a smile of encouragement.
“How do you know? She seems to like everyone except me.”, you helplessly ran the hand through your hair.
“I know her.”, the American said firmly.
You left it at that, even though you didn’t fully believe your former Lyon teammate. Especially when the days in the US were exactly like the ones back at London, with Millie mostly ignoring you and you trying to prove her wrong in every training.
You were surprised when she finally acknowledged your existence just a day later. It was only the two of you in the hotel room you had to share when Millie suddenly decided: “Y/n, we have to talk.“
“About what?”, you asked, unsure about the direction in which this conversation would be going.
The older defender crossed her arms in front of her chest, her face with an unreadable expression. “About what you’ve heard.“
“Cat says you didn’t mean it but I think it sounded like you did.“, you said, keeping a watchful eye on her from your bed.
She huffed out a breath: “Let’s just say I phrased it wrong, okay? I don’t hate you, I hate the way you act in training.“
“But I’m just challenging you.“, you frowned at her.
“You’re risking injuries.“, Millie said plainly, the clear accusation hidden in the neutrality of her voice. You could tell she was straining to keep a normal conversation.
You shook your head: “No, I don’t want to hurt anyone. I know what I’m doing…“
Millie scoffed: “You’re still a child. You don’t have a clue about what you are doing.“
You rolled your eyes. Of course she would play the age card again. You just wanted this talk to end.
“I’m 22. That’s ‘ardly a child.“
“Listen, all I’m saying is that one day you’re going to injure someone like that.“
“Millie, I won more Champions League titles than you so I’m not as inexperienced as you think.“, you explained, voice tinged with slight annoyance.
“Oh, you mean the titles you won from the bench?”, she retorted.
“No, I actually played.“
“Not in the finals.“
“So you did watch our games?”, you asked before you could decide to throw some French swear words at her.
“No.“
“Not even after Sonia was announced as the new coach?”
“No.“
“I see.“, you nodded slowly, not sure what you actually saw apart from Millies indifference.
“So can we agree that you take it down a notch in training?”
“Yes.“, you agreed begrudgingly. “If you stop thinking I’m still a child.“
From your point of view, that was all that had to be said. The conversation was over. You got up from the bed and pulled your Chelsea shirt over your head, ready to switch into your pyjamas. It was only when you stripped of your sweatpants as well that you noticed Millies gaze on you.
“Stop staring, Captain Bright.“, you laughed through the awkwardness.
She didn’t look away, she also didn’t smile. “Why don’t you get dressed somewhere else?”
“Why don’t you turn around to look at the wall? At least you got proof that I’m not a kid anymore.”, you suggested with a cheeky grin on your face.
“Guess I do. But why do I’ve to turn around? There’s a bathroom right here.”, Millie commented.
“Boring plus it ruins the fantasy.”, you added still smiling.
“What are you even talking about?”, the blonde asked confused.
“Oh, please.”, you kept teasing her for her prude Englishness.
“You French girls are so weird.”, she claimed mildly amused by your behaviour.
“Yeah, but your eyes seemed to like it.”, you smirked.
“Are you done now? I’d like to sleep?”, the older defender changed quickly to a safer topic.
“Good night, Millie.”, you muttered while switching off the light.
“Night, y/n.”, Millie sounded almost half asleep. She hasn’t stopped thinking about your abs, but she would never admit that to you somehow, they followed her into her sweet dreams.
In training you couldn’t stop yourself from mocking your captain, still there was a more loving undertone in the way you talked to her now that wasn’t there before.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”, Millie tried to shrug it off.
“Whatever? The young won over the old and you don’t care?”, you pretended to be scandalized by her seemingly unbothered reaction.
Soon, you’d regret your cheekiness as the captain swept you off your feet to carry you to the ice bathtub and let you fall right into the cold.
“Ah, no!”, you yelled.
“That’s what you get for making fun of team old.”, the English woman explained, biting back a smile.
At dinner Lucy elbowed her teammate playfully. “You’re starting to like her too, Millie.”
“Oh, shut up.”, she pushed her friends arm away from her, her cheeks had turned slightly pink.
“No, it’s true you use every opportunity to touch her like.”, Guro intervened giggling.
“Like what?”, Millie interrupted the Norwegian forward impatiently.
“Like you’re into her.”, Lucy remarked, rolling her eyes at the cluelessness of her England teammate.
“I’m not.”, she protested.
“If you say so..”, Guro responded humoured.
“You don’t believe me.”, Millie sighed dramatically.
“Not a word.”, Erin affirmed.
“It’s pretty obvious.”, Lucy added.
“You know what they say about hatred and love.”, the Norwegian started laughing.
“Stop being annoying.”, the blonde begged her friend.
“I’m just saying.”, Guro threw an innocent smile at her.
“Maybe I don’t hate her anymore.”, Millie acknowledged quietly, hoping that they didn’t hear that confession.
“We know.”, Lucy declared annoyed.
You shook your head to yourself. You had watched from the table across from Millies friend group and couldn’t believe that they really thought you wouldn’t notice that they talked about you.
Patiently, you waited until the end of dinner and when everyone got up, you walked over to Millie.
With a smirk on your lips, you whispered into her ear: “Love me like you hate me then.“
The older defender paused and stared at you, dumbfounded.
“What? What’s that supposed to mean? I…“
You bit back a smile and prompted her to continue: “You?”
Millie caught herself quickly and rolled her eyes: “I wouldn’t go that far to say that I love you.“
“Oh, there’s no need to rush this but would you go on a date with me, captain?”, you continued flirting with her.
She blinked at you, apparently unsure if you meant it or not.
“A date?“, she echoed. “Like a real, honest-to-god date?”
You nodded confidently: “Oui.“
“Why?” She still studied you with narrowed eyes as if she could see right through you this way.
“Why not?”, you shrugged nonchalantly.
It was clearly not the answer Millie was waiting for. Still, she only said: “Okay.“
Now it was on you to look surprised: “So it’s a yes?”
Millies face softened into a smile: “Yes.“
Excitedly, you got onto your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to her cheek: “After our next test game?”
“Saturday then.“,, Millie agreed with a single nod.
“I can’t wait.“, you smiled at her.
Millie watched you with a fondness that she hadn’t allowed herself to show up until now. And you had to admit, it looked good on her.
Going on a date with you on that Sunday the older woman realized that it was easy to hate you for your arrogance, the way you played without compromises, your stubbornness but it turned out to be even easier to love you for your passion of the game, the way you took a real interest in her stories and your smile which lit up the whole dim lit restaurant you were eating at.
#millie bright#millie bright x reader#millie bright imagine#woso x reader#engwnt#lionesses#woso#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso one shot#chelsea fcw#chelsea women#woso community#woso oneshot#catarina macario#lucy bronze
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mr. & mrs. 'surprise couple' | LS2 (SM AU pt 2!)
pairing: logan sargeant x reader (they/she pronouns!)
summary: logan and his partner decide to hard launch their relationship as casually as possible
warning: sweet sweet fluff
FC: @/desreii on instagram
a/n: better late than ever!
part 1 | now
yourusername
liked by logansargeant, alex_albon, yourbestfriend and 572,064 others
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liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, alex_albon and 520,405 others
yourusername lego dates & a proper family movie night ❤️🙂↕️
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alex_albon WHO IS THIS HANDSOME FELLOW?!
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liked by yourusername, logansargeant, landonorris, and 1m others
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youusername
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yourusername the duality of my man 🩵
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user205 HES SO SILLY
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user03 THATS OUR CAPTAIN AMERICAN
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yourusername tagged logansargeant
liked by alex_albon, oscarpiastri, landonorris, yourbestfriend, and 703,687 others
yourusername he may not won points but he has won my heart for sure ❤️💍🩵
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#starlight library presents;#f1 imagine#f1 smau#logan sargent x reader#logan sargent imagine#logan sargeant sm au#ls2 x reader#ls2 imagine#ls2 sm au#logan sargeant social media au#ls2 social media au#f1 sm au#f1 social media au#startlight library navigation
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The Five Year Plan | Gaz x Reader
Note: F!Reader but no gendered terms in this chapter, Fat/Plus sized Reader, Reader is implied to be Black but can be read as WoC, Readers nickname is 'Siggy', there will be no y/n use Content warning: terrible grasp of british-isms, parental angst, sick parent (cancer), some reader backstory for storytelling purposes, talks of pregnancy and readers womb, fatphobia from a parent, food mentions. (lmk if I need to tag something else for filtering!!)
Chapter Three: Don't tell mum
It is an ungodly hour of the morning and you have a sugar hangover and a canopy bed full of empty wrappers.
You’d spent the night crying and cursing stupid posh, blond men with trust funds and selective sperm practices. Which then led you to curse even stupider, infuriating wankers with pretty brown eyes and smooth burnished skin.
(Also the perky twits the two species have tea and procreate with, but you’re trying to do a better job of showing unwavering solidarity with other women. Despite the present fuckery at hand that is.)
A brief glance in the mirror of your vanity reflects the deep dark circles under your eyes and the evidence of your emergency chocolate eclairs on the bodice of your moo-moo. The silk lined linen had been no match for the wild disarray of your hair during the night. You looked quite frightening really. You don’t even need to glance at the framed Olivia Pope photo on your nightstand to know your fictional icon would be utterly disgusted at the state of you.
This would not do.
Sitting up from your pillow you point an accusing finger to the wobbling lipped wretch in the mirror and take a deep steadying breath for fortitude.
"Tits up, buttercup! There's no crying in show business!" you bellow at the watery reflection firmly.
The wretch in the mirror looks no more enthusiastic than before.
Mentally you shrug. Sure the motto is not as an effective motivator as it is with the raspy American accent of your chain smoking paternal aunt, but still. It's the thought that counts! With shoulders back and head high you're determined to expel angst from your body like water off a duck's arse. You force your mouth into a semblance of a smile that doesn't reach your eyes and tumble-scooch out of the nest of blankets in the middle of your bed.
It was Saturday and you had an overbearing mother to visit (and subsequently lie to). If you didn’t get it together she’d smell the bitter notes of ‘Eau de Failure’ wafting over you like a shark scenting blood in the water. So with that in mind, you prepare for war with a nice candle and the motivating sounds of a beloved global hero.
“Breakup, shmake-up! Alexa, be a dear and play Chaka Khan, we need this show back on the road. Pronto!”
An incoming text comes in briefly interrupting your improvised rendition of ‘I’m Every Woman’ while you perform (lounge) in the tub. With suds scarily close to your face you squint at the message from your father with one eye.
> Nurses called, mums in a mood.
You scowl. To be frank there’s not a time as of late where your mum wasn’t in a mood. Waving an arm in the air to dispel the bubbles covering your hand, you type out a text back.
< Gobsmacked, truly. Send rating for level of risk in engaging the matriarch, Skipper.
The reply comes in seconds. You can imagine your tech averse father having already expected the request and having a reply at the ready.
> Threat level five, Captain.
You scrunch your nose and make a whine of irritation.
Bugger. The scale only went up to six.
With a sigh you send a simple ‘Roger that’ and sink lower into the bathtub. It was probably best to add more bubbles and break out the epsom salts. You were going to need all the relaxation you could get.
An hour later you’re dressed and slathered in body butter, glistening like a plump glazed ham.
Outside your flat you’re shifting your bag around to find the knock off sunglasses somewhere traversing at the bottom when the sound of the door across the wall causes you to tense. Kyle stands in his doorway shuffling with a small plastic bag in hand and a sheepish smile. He’s blinking sleep from his eyes and scrunching his face as if the light filtering in the drab hallway disturbs him greatly.
Your gut clenches seeing the serene yellow glow cascading across his brown skin. (It wasn’t fair that even the sun was a biased ninny and painted the bane of your existence out to be an ethereal creature.)
You give him a look up and down that you hope is less awestruck and all venom. It’s hard not to get distracted by the low hang of his gray sweatpants and the compression shirt that encompasses his broad chest.
Sweet blueberries, the man dressed like a common whore.
Sniffing you turn your nose up at him, shoving your sunglasses on your face when you finally reach them.
“Garrick.”
He smiles wider despite your dry tone. “Good morning, love.”
“Were you just standing there at the door waiting for me?”
Kyle gives you a flat look in return with slightly less chipper-ness. He shifts his arms to rest in a cross, the bag swinging from the crook of his elbow like a metronome. His biceps bulge in a way that makes you want to clutch your pearls.
(Or bite him. Hard.)
“I wasn’t waiting at the door.” He’s not quite mocking the cadence of your voice but you still wonder if you could get away with braining him with your overstuffed bag.
“I just happened to be nearby and I know you always leave around this time on Saturdays.”
You roll your eyes.
“So you were waiting at the door then. You know Garrick stalking is illegal in the UK. I would hope you’d know that being military and such.”
Kyle narrows his eyes into slits. His nostrils flare as his once bright smile turns sardonic, gravely affronted.
“Don’t know if you’re always such a charm in the mornings, love, but like I said, wasn't waiting around.” He clips. You are incensed at the degree of excitement that shoots through you at his rare snark.
(You make a mental note to have one of the cute nurses at mum’s care center check you over for possible head trauma.)
“Besides,” He gives you a pointed look. “You would know something about illegal acts considering you’re the one who got banned from the resident’s meetings for nicking the snacks.”
The gasp of offense you let out is involuntary. Morning Kyle was not only scandalously dressed but also very rude!
“I did not steal anything, Garrick, they were complimentary for the residents!” You snark haughtily, pushing your sunglasses up your nose with a manicured finger. “I happen to be a resident you know and I gave my compliments when I took them.”
Kyle lets out a bark of laughter. The sleep layered tenor makes your toes curl in your sensible slippers.
Bugger he was pretty.
“Is there something you need from me?” you ask when his laugh trickles off into chuckles.
Kyle sobers and shoots you a sheepish glance. “Ah yeah actually. I wanted to give you these.”
Kyle maneuvers the bag off his arm and extends it to you. With an abundance of caution you accept the offering like one would handle a ticking bomb and peek inside.
An assortment of moon cakes greets you at the bottom of the plastic.
You can smell the crisp outer shell and the sweet red bean filling of the pastry signifying their freshness. You do the mental math in your head and realize he’d had to have been up at the crack of dawn to get in line for them at the shops around the way.
The treats sold out in minutes and you very rarely got the opportunity to get them on your own during the season as you were prone to sleeping in.
“What’s this for?”
“It’s an apology.” He gives your bewildered look a self deprecating grimace. “I don’t know what the other night was about but I wanted to apologize for hurting your feelings.”
Okay, no. Can’t have any of that now.
You straighten up and put your hands on your hips. Kyle’s eyes follow your movements, staring for longer than polite. You clear your throat and he looks away when you give him an eyebrow raise in return.
“Firstly, Garrick, you didn’t hurt my feelings, don't insult me. I was just taken aback.” pausing in consideration you peer over the rim of your glasses at the man. “What exactly did Madelyn tell you?”
Kyle shifts, one side of his mouth twitching upwards bringing your attention to the facial scar on his cheek.
“Nothing, actually. Just a lot of crying and mumbling about some Hugo. I honestly thought she was talking about a dog before I realized it was some chap she's seeing.”
You hum. Interesting, really.
You’d been sure he’d known more than he’d let on or at the very least that Madelyn would prove to be the unsavory sort to spill the beans on the sister wife shuffle you’d been unwittingly involved in.
A glance at your watch shows you that you’ve spent too much time dawdling. No need to ruffle mum’s feathers further.
“Well, this has been lovely, Garrick, but I have to cut out. Places to go, people to see and such.” You shake the bag in your hand in emphasis, “Thanks for the goodies. it ‘s very... Sweet of you.”
“You’re welcome, love.”
You’re glad you thought to wear your shades, the smile he gives you is infused with satisfaction and warmth. (He really should be much more careful where he aims those things he’s liable to blind someone.)
With a twirl of your wrist you give Kyle a halfhearted wave goodbye. He watches you until the lift closes.
What a strange duck.
You find your father at his usual haunt within the oncology unit of the extended care center.
“Step away from the vending machine, Skipper. I come bearing tastier morsels.”
You smile at his wide eyed panic as he turns to you with shoulders to his ears. He curses low and pulls you into a bear hug, tight enough that a passing nurse shushes you for the squawk you let out. Your father’s miserably dramatic groan vibrates throughout your own chest and he lets out a puff of air.
“You’ve gotta announce yourself kid, I nearly shit myself.”
With a laugh you poke a finger into his rib causing him to jerk away from you. “It’s shat, do try to act like a proper Brit won’t you? Besides what's the fun in announcing myself when I can catch you red handed doing something you shouldn’t. Mum will be pissed you’re wasting money on vending machine biscuits ya’ know.”
Your father gives you a droll look when you snatch his change and shove it in your own pocket.
(Someone has to pay the child tax after all.)
“Shit or shat, same difference and you would be the one responsible for cleaning me up, brat. And, I’ve been divorced from your mother for nearly a decade so I don’t care what she won’t like. I'm a grown ass man, I’m not afraid of her.”
Your eyes roll so far to the back of your head you swear you can see your medulla. He was so full of it.
“Yeah? So, if I told you not to tell mum something you’re not going to do that thing where you blurt it out the second she looks at you?”
He puts a hand over his heart in reply. “Of course I wouldn’t say anything. I’m a little offended right now, when have I ever run off at the mouth.”
You stomp your feet in irritation. He didn’t get to play clueless!
“Literally all the time. You’re the reason she sent me to that awful boarding school for nicking one of your cigarettes! I’m still scared of nuns you know- stop laughing!”
Your father continues to chuckle and pats your face. When you swat his hand away the look he gives you is unimpressed and flippant.
“In my defense, you were thirteen and had no business smoking in the first place, much less skipping class to do it. I had to put fear into you so you didn’t come out a delinquent.”
“By telling mum?” You quirk a brow.
“Course, what’s scarier?” He gives you a smug look, linking his arms in yours. You both set a pace down the hall in the direction of your mothers room.
“Besides, I wouldn’t be a father if I hadn't done whatever it took, you were very rebellious and snotty at the time. But still, it worked out didn’t it? Got a cool nickname out of it. Siggy, the chain smoking lawyer.”
You start to glare at him but the word father makes you wince and he catches it. “What’s the look?”
“So about being a father,” you slow to a stop just outside your mothers door. You give the nurse at reception a tight smile and try to come up with a way to say the thing.
“Hugo got someone pregnant.”
It takes the old man some time for it to click. You watch his mind whir putting together the things you didn’t say. Finally he levels you with a smirk much like a cat who drank the cream would wear.
“No shit? Didn’t think he had the cojones for that, you’d kept them in your purse long enough.”
The look you give him is unimpressed, he snickers. How dreadful, you were being parented by a child.
“Yes well,” you look away “according to him I wasn’t mother material and he dumped me for the other woman.”
Your father hums “Tragic that. Didn’t like him very much so I can’t say I’ll miss him. He send you off with something?”
He motions his head at the plastic bag you fiddled with subconsciously. With a snort you hand it over, watching his eyes light ups when he digs through its contents.
“No, gift from my neighbor.” you wait until he’s taken a moon cake out of its individual wrapping before leveling him a glare. “Under no circumstances are you allowed to tell mum that Hugo and I broke up.”
Your father shrugs off your concern with a wave. “Yup got it. Won’t hear a peep out of me about it.” He takes a big bite that sends pastry flecks over his shirt and you roll your eyes.
Facing the door to the hospital room you roll your shoulders back and prepare yourself mentally.
The sound of a wrapper crinkly disturbs whatever inner peace you search for in the universe.
“Please Siggy, I served with guys in the Navy with less seriousness going into battle.”
Good grief.
“Eat your sweets please.” You cluck, “I need to meditate before I walk in there.”
Your father ha-rumps in reply but thankfully keeps quiet. When you feel some semblance of self control you shoot a look behind you.
“Remember not a single word!”
Your mother is propped against mounds of pillows. She looks every bit like a queen holding court despite the tubing and wires running along her body. Her sallow skin is grayish in tint, far from the myriad of browns you remember from your youth.
Yet her scowl remains sharp and dagger-like in nature.
“Oh, how nice of you to show up. I thought this was your way of telling me you want me to die alone.”
Your father shoots you a look as he finishes off the cake. Threat level five indeed.
You smile at her sheepishly which only makes her glare more.
“I got tied up with my neighbor, sorry mum. I’m here now though. What’s been going on?”
Your mother says nothing instead choosing to follow you with her eyes as you make your way to the armchair beside her bed. When you’re seated she sucks her teeth and looks you up and down before gesturing at your still standing father with her head.
“Why did you bring this traitorous shadow on my doorstep, eh? I already have a sickness, why must you make me suffer more?”
Your father rolls his eyes before gesturing a thumb over his shoulder.
“Alright… glad we had this talk. I’ll just run to the cafeteria.” Your father turns tail and leaves without waiting for a reply. Your mother gives you a look.
“Wisdom chases your father but unfortunately he is faster.”
“Please, that’s mean, mum.” You ignore her brush off, “He comes to visit with me every weekend even when he doesn’t have to, maybe you should give him a break.”
Your mother is silent, choosing to disregard your scolding by facing away and watching the drama playing out on the telly. You allow the dismissal, watching along with her and sharing occasional comments on the plot.
During an advertisement break she folds her hands into her lap and shifts to get a good look at you.
“Are you pregnant yet?”
You jerk back into the cushions of the chair, “No!”
She frowns. “Why not, you are getting old?
And here we go.
“Mum,” you start carefully, “You say this every time you see me and I have to remind you once more that I’m not old. It’s actually pretty rude, you know, to suggest I need a baby because I’m aging.”
She huffs adjusting the nasal cannula. You look at the IV in her thin hand and the feeling of wrongness makes your body vibrate with anxiety.
She shouldn’t be here.
You don’t get a chance to think about it anymore when she leans over the railing of her bed to stare deep into your eyes.
“What’s happened to that Humphrey fellow, what is he saying about your empty womb?”
For fucks sake!
“It’s Hugo and he’s got nothing to say about my womb because it’s not his bloody-” you refuse to amend the curse when she swats at you with the hand closest to you, “it’s not his bloody business mother, I’m not a breeding mare!”
She narrows her eyes, jaw working as she contemplates your tense shoulders. “Where is he?”
You recoil. For. Fucks. Sake!
You try to look casual while sitting back in the armchair, your unseeing glaze pretending to be interested in the period piece that now plays on the in-unit television.
“He’s around or whatever. Doing fiancé things and all that jazz. Super happy. Great guy, truly the best.”
Your mother lets out a sharp ‘Ha!’ She calls your full name in the tone. The ‘I have birthed you and I will end you’ like filicide is her right as a mother, tone. You sink low into the chair.
“What, mother?”
“You are lying, I can tell. Where is Harold and what happened to your engagement? If you’ve run off another man I will cut you from my will.”
You snort humorlessly.
“Like I said Hugo is fine where he is. Besides you don’t have a will, I know because I oversee your legal paperwork and you refuse to sit down and draft one with me.”
She mumbles something unintelligible about everyone speaking death onto her when your father walks into the room with a cup of coffee.
You see the second your mother sets up a plan of attack and your father does too in the way he freezes in fear like a doe in the path of a wolf.
“Where is the child’s husband-”
“He broke up with her!" He blurts with wide, dodgy eyes, "Got some girl pregnant and ran off.”
He returns your disgusted look with a shrug. “Sorry, Siggy got nervous.”
Seriously, the man needed some backbone! He’s not even married to her any more! You’re opening your mouth to lay into him when your mother launches her own attack on you both.
“Do not call my child that awful name, you discombobulated fool!” you mouth the word ‘discombobulated’, the woman was creative with her insults, you’ll give her that.
“And you!” she wags her finger in your direction with a stiff lip, “You should be ashamed of yourself for lying to your own ailing mother. Quickly, how did you manage to run this one off? I am dying to hear it.”
Primly you sit up, adjusting the hem of your shirt around your tummy. Your time in court was much less daunting, to be honest, but you’re a believer in faking it until you make it.
“Mumsy, I didn’t run anyone off, thank you very much. In my defense he was a cheating oaf and he is free to do what he wants, it's no skin off my back.”
She laughs haughtily and it makes you feel awful.
“He wouldn’t have left if you gave him children!”
The dark desire to mention that giving a man a child hadn’t worked out in her favor when you catch your father’s look. He shakes his head, knowing you well enough to pluck the vicious thought from your mind.
You swallow back the biting retort in defeat.
“Mum please. Hugo said he didn’t want kids right away” you mentally add the ‘children with you’ with a frown, “I believed him when he said it and that’s not something I should be punished for.”
Your mother sits back in bed, raising her hands in the air in defeat.
“Everyone else in the family has a grandchild or three!” She cuts her eyes at you, “Why was I the one cursed with a child who buys ugly bags instead of raising babies.”
The pit in your stomach grows as tears prickle your eyes. “My bags aren’t ugly and its very mean of you to suggest that.” you whimper dejectedly.
Your father takes a step and puts his hand on your shoulder.
“I think that’s enough, we should be comforting our child not being insulting. You didn’t like the man anyways so what's the issue?”
Your mother just tuts and closes her eyes like she couldn’t be arsed to have you both in sight a moment longer.
“He was also a fool.” She opens one eye to peek at you, “Your cousin is expecting again by the way.”
So that's what this was about, you snort.
“Yes well, terrible for you to compare me to my underage cousin when she’s barely a teenager with her second child on the way. You know as well as I do the family was in a kerfuffle about it the first time!”
Your father hums in agreement, voicing his support (a little late after having caused this mess, but still.)
“You should be proud to have a kid who has degrees, a great career -an admittedly shit flat,” He ignores your sound of objection “but otherwise really fabulous things going on. Say something nice, please.”
Your mother sniffs “I’m getting older and who knows if this sickness takes me to glory. The child obviously wants me to die without a grandbaby.”
Your sigh is deep and loud in the room. You know for a fact she's bringing up her cancer to twist the knife in deeper. Yet you heard from her yourself that the doctors crowed about the progress of her health.
“Mum please don’t keep saying stuff like that. It really hurts my feelings because you know I love you and I wouldn’t know what to do without you.”
You watch your mother fight to not soften with your admission. She doesn't look directly at you, glancing more in your general direction. You place a hand over hers on top of the covers, squeezing her fingers tight. The dull shine of her wedding band catches the light of the side table lamp.
She squeezes your hand back and lifts it out from under yours to pat your fingers. You know it's the only form of apology you’ll get from her. She does ruin it though, moments after.
“Your wrists are like sausage casings, have you gotten bigger?”
Yes well, that was your sign that it was time to go.
“Well lovely as always to see you mum,” you shift to a stand reaching for your bag at your feet and patting your father on the arm. “Think I’m going to pop out and consider my life choices and all.”
She tells you not to be cheeky when you kiss her cheek. She ignores your father’s goodbye and continues on with watching her shows.
On the walk out front your father stops you from leaving. He lights up a cigarette, the cloying menthol aroma turning your stomach.
(You never could pick one up again after that traumatizing moment in secondary school.)
Your father is quiet for some time, flicking the ash of his cigarette occasionally in deep thought. You don’t make an effort to break the silence, thinking of your own recollection of another successfully humiliating interaction with your mother. They’d been happening a lot more as of late and it was starting to wear a hole in your heart.
When you shuffle in place your father finally looks at you with a softened glint in his eye. He stumps out his ciggie and places a hand on your shoulder.
“You and your mother are just alike.”
Snorting, you look off to the darkening parking lot, settling your gaze on a flickering street lamp in the distance. You try to ignore the warbling view from behind the tears in your eyes.
“Wouldn’t let her hear that. I’m sure she’d pop her lid at the very suggestion.” You don’t mean to, but bitterness coats your tongue before you can stop yourself, “Poor, fat, pathetic Siggy mucking her perfect plans up as always.”
Your father shoots you a warning glance, not liking your tone or the self deprecation dripping from your mouth. Being under his steel gaze makes you feel childish but you refuse to show it, meeting his look head on.
Because like it or not it was the truth. Whether she said it outright she wasn’t satisfied with your person.
You’d grown up always being on the wrong end of your mothers ire. No matter how hard you tried otherwise. But there wasn’t an excellent mark you could get, a partner you could bring home, or even a diet you could go on. You were always just… lacking.
Your father sighs in the night.
“You’re just as hard headed as her, you know that? Just as quick to cut down an idea that doesn’t fit your vision.”
Catching the defeated slump of your shoulders he calls your name. When you don’t look at him he tucks a finger beneath your chin forcing you to meet his gaze. Love and sadness sit on his weathered skin like a cloak.
“It’s not a bad thing, Captain. I know being all brass and bull dick helps you at that fancy ass firm of yours but it keeps you from smelling the roses from time to time.”
You wrinkle your nose at the crassness, not sure how to take being compared to bulls testicles. He continues on.
“You also got her flare for dramatics and her ambitious nature. It’s why you two have been butting heads since you could set up and talk.”
Whoa, not the case!
“She butts heads with me!” You cry out, “I don’t know what I could possibly be doing to trigger her but I’m exhausted figuring it out. I just want-“
The lump in your throat stops you and you take a shaky breath.
“I just want her to be on my side for once? Instead of being worried about me embarrassing her in front of the family.”
He gives you a sad smile.
“She’s just scared. Been on the wrong end of the hyenas before, I think she tries to nag you into submission in hopes she can spare you half the pain.”
That you can’t help but give an unbelieving look to.
“Please she acts like the head hyena most days. It’s hard to believe she’s ever been judged the way she judges me.”
Your father hums humorlessly, wrapping an arm over your shoulder to smush you into his side.
“You’d be surprised. She’d gut me, then stuff me over the mantle for saying it, but I have it on good authority that she’s on thin ice with her side of the family as well.”
You sniffle past the tears on your lashes, blinking to peer at him. “Well don’t leave me in suspense, old man. What’s the story behind that?”
Your father chuffs and flicks the tip of your nose, you whine rubbing the sore spot left behind.
“I got your old man alright, you little shit.” He laughs boisterously, “They’re pissed she dared marry me, an American. Then by doing me the honor of birthing you, the most loving, headstrong tornado of a child a man can ask for, despite their objections.”
The forehead kiss he plants on you brings more watery fluid to your eyes. You hide the emotion by frowning and pretending to wipe off imaginary residue from your forehead.
“I’m not following.” You snark flatly. It earns you a pinch.
“They’re pissed she went against them then had the nerve to agree to divorce me when it was all said and done. That’s on top of inconveniencing them by getting sick. Your mum’s been on the chopping block far longer than you’ve been and the pressure is getting to her.”
He lets out a long suffering sigh and you imagine he’s reliving the hard years that came about after the divorce. The constant yelling and coldness within your childhood home still sends ice down your spine. Your father notices the resulting shiver and rubs your arm to provide warmth into your limbs.
“Despite our differences, I know your mum is just worried you’ll face the same treatment she did when she went and ran off with me, the ‘no good American’ while on vacation.”
You sigh, still not really understanding. It was definitely unfortunate their treatment of your parents' marriage. You’d witnessed it in the slick remarks of your aunties and the other elders over the years.
Your father had done what he could to shield you from figuring out his ostracism up until he’d asked your mother for a divorce.
It wasn’t fair to either of them that the family was so caught up in outdated traditions to see your parents had loved each other once. But you couldn’t live like this and you say so.
“You said it yourself, you've been divorced for ages. It’s not fair that she puts so much pressure on me when I don’t give a damn about what they say. I’ve never amounted to anything they want and I refuse to exhaust myself trying to meet her expectations.”
Your father nods in agreement.
“That’s valid, Siggy. Ultimately I just want you to make your own path. I’ll talk to her about laying off, promise.” He cocks his head and squints at you.
“What?” You give him a worried perusal.
“Are you still mad that I spilled the beans about the fiancé situation?”
You laugh, pinching him around the middle. “I’m still very upset actually. You sold me out so quickly, it’s like you didn’t even try!”
He shrugs shamelessly. “It was me or you. I had to put myself first in the end.”
You roll your eyes and enjoy the swaying hug he keeps you in. After some time he speaks, peering at you.
“Your little friend Blue is right, by the way, that Hugo man does look like a chihuahua.”
“Dad, please.”
“I’m just saying, Captain, might have gotten lucky after all. wouldn’t want you to go off and birth a litter of pups with a french accent.”
Your resulting cackle echoes loudly into the night.
A/N lol sorry for taking forever for an update and all the parental angst lmao. If you can’t tell I suffer from mommy issues and I was avoiding writing this chapter. Excited, next part the good shit begins :’D
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#the five year plan#kyle garrick x black reader#kyle gaz garrick#kyle gaz x reader#kyle gaz x you#baby face
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Tom! Peter Parker x Stark! Male Reader
☆ — MASTERLIST — ☆
REQUEST: I need a Itimidating Reader x Tom! Peter Parker. Like reader could be Captain American or Iron Man's son and he has been dating Peter secretly cause you know Peter is shy about things and doesn't want to make things big. So reader holds back but he had enough when one days he witnessed Thompson and other bullies doing the worst to Peter. So he does what any boyfriend will do, show those bullies their place and maybe maybe, Avengers comes and gives a piece of their mind as well to those bullies. Cause I like Avengers being a found family with them being protective of their youngest member 😭😭🤌🏻🤌🏻
CONTENT/WARNINGS: Fluff, slight angst, reader is Tony starks son, mentions of Morgan and Pepper, Ned being terrible at secrets, MJ supports, mature language, slight kissing, short shot, flash is a bully, mentions of violence, mentions of hero work, teenage love, school stuff.
TAGS: @nobodylivesson
WC: 2k
NOTES: I tried my best to suit to your request, I wrote this one late at night and was probably half asleep after completing it 🥲, but either way I hope you really enjoy it! I wasn’t able to bring in the rest of the superhero family since I didn’t know how to slip it in without going off track. But either way I love the whole superfamily fics and the concept of Stony adopting Peter ( ´∀`) those are my comfort fics.
Peter wasn’t ashamed of who he was dating he just didn’t make it a big deal that he was dating Starks son. When Y/n joined the school he had already known him from the time that he was working at Starks internship. He’d see him around the lab either helping his father on a few side projects or just to bother Tony into leaving work and getting a proper meal and rest.
While Tony was away it left both Peter and Y/n on their own and giving them time to actually know each other. Their side conversations turned into flirting and then light touches until Y/n was the first to make the move on Peter and asking him out. Peter was a shy kid and never got the attention from people he liked nor was he good at socializing without stuttering or hesitating on his conversations.
Ever since Y/n joined Peters school the two were closer than ever and enjoyed their time together. Peter kept their relationship a secret in order to prevent the other students from finding out that he’s dating Tony Starks kid. Even if he told anyone about it they wouldn’t believe that he’s dating someone like Y/n.
It didn’t take long for Ned to find out that Peter was dating.
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Ned, his best friend since childhood. The reason he never told him was because he knew how terriable his friend was at keeping secrets. When he found out that he was the cities hero there were times that he almost slipped up and exposed his secret to those around him and always had to remind his friend that no one was suppose to know that he’s Spider-Man.
Ned had caught the two making out on Peters bed.
Peter had forgotten about inviting Ned over for a weekend sleepover due to him being distracted by Y/n coming over and having dinner with both him and his aunt May. After that they’ve left the table to spend time in Peters room which resulted into them making out like most teenagers would and then getting caught by Ned.
His poor friend could only stare in shock when he found out and after a couple of minutes of shock he finally started to ask them question such as; “How did you meet? When did you start dating? Are you really dating Starks son?”
The sleepover turned out to be a very interesting night for Ned.
Ned was still getting used to the fact that Peter was dating Y/n, but Tony wasn’t too happy about the fact that his son was dating Peter the kid that he chose to pass down his work to. Y/n did work with Tony but the kid was never interested in becoming an inventor or an engineer and instead focused more on things that made him feel happy. Tony never pressured his son to take over and instead accepted his goals and dreams.
Peter expected Tony to interrogate him when finding out that he’s dating his son, but instead of being asked on why he was dating his son. His question so we’re mainly aimed towards Y/n who ate in silence during their dinner together with Pepper sitting next to Tony and his sister Morgan sitting across from Peter.
“Why him?”
“Because I like him.”
“Why not some other guy or girl?”
“Do you not want me to date Peter?”
“I don’t want you distracting him from work.”
The conversation was mainly between Y/n and Tony while Pepper was kind enough to speak with Peter about school and his aunt and how they were doing, trying to keep both son and father from killing each other while having their first dinner. By the end of the day Peter became a favorite to the Stark family especially with Morgan who loved Peters attention and placed puzzle games with him winning the little girls heart over in less than seconds.
Things were going fine until the bullying picked up at school.
Flash had noticed how close Peter was being with Y/n during lunch and class hours, thinking that Peter was trying to get extra brownie points with Mr. Stark and befriending his son in order to get closer to the man. He knew that Starks kid was going to be in their school and had grown jealous by how close Peter was getting, ruining his opportunity to befriend Y/n.
When Y/n wasn’t around, Flash and his goons would quickly go after Peter. The good thing is that Peter was great at escaping and was always getting around from Flashes wrath, either running inside a full classroom during lunch hours or running outside where he’d climb onto the roof top in order to avoid Flash.
Peter never told Y/n and he never found out.
The bullying never happened when Y/n was around and whenever Flash approached them he’d always fake his emotions which Peter hated seeing. He could see through Flashes fake smiles and laughs when he conversed with Y/n, trying to act like he’s the most nicest person ever to meet.
Peter wasn’t the only one who saw through flash’s lies so did Y/n. He could see a liar from across the room and knew how they acted. He spent enough time working in his dads company to sniff out liars and had gotten very good at it.
It was the week that Y/n was suppose to work with his father on a new invention, testing them out and figuring out if they have potential to be sold to the public, but recently Y/n had joined a club with Peter and took place after school hours. He’d shoot his father a quick text that he wasn’t going to the lab and quickly rushed off to join the club in hopes of spending more time with Peter and their other members.
When entering the room he finds MJ and the other students sitting on a round table, discussing about their new plans for the club. His eyes search the room and doesn’t find Peter which makes him frown a little before sitting next to MJ. “Where’s Pete?” He whispers to her and noticed how her lips twitched into a smirk.
“Miss your little boyfriend already? Don’t you guys have all periods together?”
MJ had figured Peter and Y/n out in less than seconds when they first met resulting in Y/n befriending her. He rolls his eyes at her comment. “We aren’t always in class together…he has biology eighth period and I have history.” He mumbled out the last part knowing that he wasn’t really providing much and that he and Peter did in fact have majority of classes together.
“You guys are gross.” MJ comments with a grin on her face. “You two are perfect for each other.”
Y/n had dealt with MJ’s teasing for a long time that he’s grown used to it. He gives her a small nudge to the shoulder and focused back to the other who were still planing out this years activities within the club, writing things down and getting the teachers opinion. It went on for ten minutes at Y/n was the first to realize that Peter still hadn’t arrived which slowly started to worry Y/n. His instincts were telling him to go look for him.
“I’m going to the bathroom be back in a bit!” He tells the others with a smile before rushing out of the room and down the hall. Whenever Peter came late to the club he always told him before hand, either letting him know that its a spider thing or perhaps his aunt needed him he was always made aware until now.
He didn’t get anything from Peter and started to get worried as he searched the hallways. They were packed a few minutes ago with students getting ready to head home and now the halls were half empty with a few students lingering around and either attending their own club's or waiting on a ride or friend.
As he rounds the corner he noticed a small crowd of students up ahead, raising a brow as he decides to make his way over. It doesn’t take him long to recognize that familiar beat up backpack that Peter always carried. He’s told Peter many times that he could get him a new one since the one he had was already tearing up, but Peter always declined his offer since he wanted to be the one to earn it and claimed that his bag was still in ‘perfect’ condition and survivable.
The sound of someone colliding into the lockers makes him walk faster to the point where he’s jogging over and finding Peter with a pained look on his face. “Trying to win yourself another internship, Parker? One wasn’t enough?” The sound of Flashes voice gets Y/n’s attention.
Noticing the state that Peters in makes him frown.
“You’re always following Y/n around like a puppy, I bet he’s finding you annoying by now. He should hang around someone who isn’t boring.” Said Flash while Peter glared up at him and tried to get back up without being kicked down by one of his little goons again, before Flash could saying anything else a fist connects with his check, startling everyone when he stumbled back in shock.
“Hey—What the hell!?”
Flash had a hand against his bruised up cheek and turns to see who was responsible only to freeze in place when his eyes land on Y/n who was huffing angrily at him. He’s standing in front of Peter in a protective way while glaring at Flash. “Touch my boyfriend again and I’ll make sure to break your nose this time.” He speaks up.
His words catch everyone by surprise, but was surprises everyone is the fact that Y/n and dating Peter.
“Boyfriend?!”
Y/n smirks at Flashes shock. “Yeah and I love his annoying ass.” He points over his shoulder to where Peter is getting back up and blushing deeply by his words, wanting to roll his eyes. Once Y/n finishes his threats and Flash and his little goons run off he’s quick to turn around and face Peter. His angry expression quickly fading into one of worry as he approached Peter and quickly checks him. “Are you hurt anywhere did you break anything? I swear to god if he did I am going to fu—“
“I’m okay, I’m okay.” Peter is quick to cut in, chuckling a little before placing his hand on Y/n’s wrist and pulling his hands away form him, reassuring him that he’s fine. “Did you forget? I can heal pretty quick.” His words cause Y/n to pinch his shoulder. “You idiot! I don’t care if you can heal I was worried for you, why didn’t you tell me this was happening?”
“Because I can handle my own battles.” Peter mumbled in response which didn’t make Y/n any happier. “That doesn’t mean that you have to do them alone,. I mean what if something happened to you? Who was going to know or help?” He continued to rant out to Peter, pouring out his own feelings and frustrations towards Peter being a stubborn person.
Once he’s ranted and calmed down he placed his hands on Peters shoulders. “Please, tell me when something like this happens again. I won’t hesitate to punch Flash again.”
Peter slowly smiles and laughs. “Can’t believe you punched Flash, I always wanted to do that but never had the guts too. I was afraid that my strength would probably kill him.”
“Yeah, well it felt great doing it he was a pain in my ass.” Peter laughs at his boyfriends words. It was satisfying to see Flash getting punched and the look of surprise when he found out that they were dating each other.
Peter looks up to Y/n. “Flash knows about us and knowing him he’s gonna tell the entire school.” He was growing nervous at the idea of everyone knowing that he’s dating Starks kid only for Y/n to pull Peter into a quick kiss and smiling at him. “Let him tell everyone at least I can kiss you whenever I want without hiding it.” Peter admired Y/n for being so calm during situations like these.
“Think we should get to our club meeting?” Said Peter.
Y/n smiles with a nod. “Yeah, come on you were missing out on the fun plans we were making.” He takes Peters hand into his own and heads down the hall feeling better now that he’s able to hold Peters hand without needing to keep their relationship a secret anymore.
#Male reader#Peter Parker x male reader#stark reader#Tony stark#superfamily fic#tom!peter parker x reader#Tom!Peter Parker x male reader#Spider-Man x male reader#Spider-Man x reader#marvel x male reader#marvel#irondad
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https://www.tumblr.com/unholyhelbig/748001277238181888/ive-reread-the-entirety-of-oversight-again-and
i’ve done this as well. i think u should 😌😏😉☺️🥰
Title: Rose Colored Glasses [An Oversight Oneshot]
Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff
Summary: Reader gets word that Natasha is hurt and rushes home to assess the situation.
Warnings(PLEASE READ): injury to nose & foot, slight blood, and shrimp
[a/n: Did someone request more oversight? Because I've got you covered. This is pure fluff, sorry for the lack of angst! It's short, and sweet, and not proof read because I don't have time :( ]
Check out the full Oversight universe
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven
A quiet house was never a good sign. Growing up in the foster care system teeming with other wards of the state had taught you that. Often, you were three or four to a room. There were bunk beds with sheets slotted against the ceiling or stuffed under the mattress above your own, just for some type of barrier. It was an illusion of privacy, most of the time. Because houses like that were never quiet.
When you’d moved in across from Darcy after your 18th birthday, things weren’t quiet. Above you was a Latin-American couple that would wait until just past midnight to turn on a slow, rhythmic song and dance. Their steps were soft, and calculated. They carved out time for one another every single night between shifts. Just for the two of them. You often let the thumping base lull you to sleep.
The city was just outside your window. In the summer, you could prop it open with a brick and let the sounds of cars become a backdrop. There were sirens, and when the fire hydrant on the corner was loosened, the world welcomed a cold blast of water, sprinkling into the street. That was the opposite of quiet. That made your chest feel light, and warm.
After marrying Natasha Romanoff, you settled into the loudness of her home. Your home. Veronica was constantly running around the twists and turns of the bottom floor, Clint or Kate or Darcy galloping after her with a big smile on their face. They slowed themselves to make sure they didn’t break anything, but they wanted her to win, too.
Yelena often came with the muffled sounds of Russian techno bands coming from the headphones around her neck. It was a staple to find her in the kitchen with her head down, slicing into an apple from the backyard with precision unknown. Natasha would tug the headphones off to get her attention, or to send her into annoyance.
The night that Natasha got hurt was stifled with the sound of rain. It had soaked you to the bone, dripping onto the linoleum floor and then the carpet as you ascended the stairs two at a time. You’d been at the docks later than usual, the storm that had plagued the side of the harbor was relentless and delayed shipments.
The captain of the shipping boat your family had utilized for decades wanted to discuss something over whatever crap coffee you could beat out of the machine in your office. He spoke with a thick southern drawl, his mustache was encrusted with salt and sand. You had shed your coat and tried to warm yourself up by hugging your mug to your chest. Nothing seemed to work.
While you weren’t opposed to giving the man a raise, you were not the final say. Natasha was, and you figured he could use the company more than anything. The captain flicked through books that were on the shelf, taking two or three for his next journey out to sea. It was like clockwork with him, and you indulged his need for quiet companionship each time.
When your phone rang, you never looked at the caller ID. Those who were privileged enough to get your number knew to talk without any of the pleasantries that they were used to. Clint’s voice came through the receiver in a smooth, hushed tone that made you believe he wasn’t supposed to be calling you in the first place.
“Look, y/n, there’s been an… incident.”
“What kind of incident?”
He was meant to escort her to one of the many cocktail parties that Carlos LaMuerto was throwing at his mansion that bordered the same body of water that you resided on now. They were lovely get-togethers that you often attended with your wife. This, however, was the fourth one this month and your stomach was turning at the idea of another cocktail shrimp and lamb pate.
Clint had offered, seeing the desperation in your eyes. And while Natasha was reluctant, she ultimately agreed. No news of a bust had reached you yet, nor had a gun blazing argument. While the Captain licked his dry lips and scanned the books in front of him, you continued in hushed tones.
“Nat’s hurt. It’s not a big deal, you can finish up your business. She’s just being stubborn is all.”
An escaped sigh “I’ll be there.”
No shit, she was being stubborn. Your wife was bull-headed and wouldn’t admit to the smallest defeat. It eased your nerves slightly, and only slightly, that Clint said it wasn’t a big deal. No gunshot to the back, or knife to the throat. It wasn’t good enough, however.
Natasha would be upset that you tracked mud into the house and left your boots sloshing by the door. You were panting by the time you reached the double doors that led to your bedroom. They were, of course, blocked by Clint and Kate. Yelena was leaning lazily against the railing that was parallel. She regarded you with an uninterested stare.
“You did not have to come here.” She said, “We’ve got it handled.”
“She kicked all of you out, didn’t she?”
“What? She certainly did not!”
Yelena’s voice pitched with her lie. Kate’s cheeks turned an off-shade of pink and Clint just rthe hallway, that was a good sign. Still, neither of the two moved to let you into your own room.
“If you’re not going to get out of the way, can you at least tell me what happened?”
There was a muffled reply from behind the door. With the way that the voice flitted, you knew that she was trapped on the bed. Otherwise, she would have leveled you with a glare right here and now. The words were simple “Do it, you die.”
“Oh, come on,” You whispered harshly, turning your attention to Kate instead. She was the easiest to break. “Katie, what is the harm in letting me through? I’m going to catch my death if I stay in these clothes.”
“Catch your death?” Clint scoffed “What are you? A poet from the 1800’s?”
“I’m about to be breaking your fingers if you don’t-“
“You can’t even break wind,”
The two of your voices combined as you kept at it. You didn’t’ miss the wary look that Kate shot Yelena. One way or another, you’d get into your room. You refused to be banished to the couch again, especially in wet clothes. If you had to threaten ruining the rugs with your muddy footprints, so be it.
“Oh, Jesus Christ!” You held up both of your hands, silencing the chaos of the corridor. “Nat, you are my wife, you’re hurt. Whether you like it or not, I’m coming in. Does anyone have any objections?”
Kate went to raise her hand, but Yelena yanked it back down and shook her head no. You tore into Clint with a look that could drop him dead. He relented and stepped away from the door. While you had a moment of peace, you walked into the dark of the room. She’d turned out the lights, save for the half-moon that showed a pale pattern against the carpet.
When you reached for the light switch on the wall, Natasha let out a noise that was similar to a wounded animal. You halted, your actions and made out her form on the bed. She was folded in on herself, her silhouette rigid.
“Baby,” you cooed, closing the distance between you and the bed. She grunted again, this time in pain. She attempted to turn away from you. You lowered yourself onto the sliver of bed, approaching the situation softly. “Can I turn on a light?”
“No, I’m hideous.”
You chuckled softly “I highly doubt that, my love. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong.”
Natasha had never liked being vulnerable around you. It had taken a full weekend of you nursing her back to her feet after the incident on the pier for her to let herself cry. You held her for hours, her nose pressed against the small of your neck. She’d gripped onto you, as if you’d leave. But you never would.
Eventually, you saw her shadow nod. Before she could change her mind, you flicked on the lamp on the side table. It didn’t’ have a far reach, but the light was less harsh on the both of you. It was impossible not to notice the blood that had dried against Natasha’s nose, a split right down the middle.
You’d seen her with broken bones before, bruises that wrapped around her midsection. You’d put ace bandage around her ribs after drawing her a bath. This was nothing to be ashamed about. In fact, she often saw them as battle scars that would heal in a pink gash.
Her foot was wrapped up with a bag of peas and one of frozen carrots that Clint, or even Yelena had situated. There was bruising around her ankle, it looked painful and you internally winced at the coloring. She groaned into the small of her elbow.
“I want to die”
“Natty, it’s okay. This is nothing a cozy weekend inside can’t fix.”
She said something that was quiet and muffled by her arm. You didn’t understand her one bit, but she squeezed a single tear from her eye that you wiped away dutifully before it could reach the silk of sheets.
“What was that, baby?” You asked gently.
She threw both of her hands down and glared at the ceiling. Her fingers eventually found yours, squeezing your palm in reflex. Her words came out in a quick breath, “I tripped over a carpet at the stupid dinner party and hit my face on the catering table.”
You were effectively silenced. That was very un-Natasha. But lately, you and Clint had been pestering her about her eyesight, especially at night. It wasn’t something she wanted to hear. In fact, each time you brought up the idea of glasses, she would effectively silence you with a glare, or even a kick to the shin under the kitchen table if you had company.
You bit the inside of your cheek and ran your thumb over her hand. She clutched your hand tighter. Now was certainly not the time to laugh, and while you fought back the initial giggle, you were more concerned about your wife.
“I’m so embarrassed.”
“I bet you got right back up.” You said, pressing your palm against her cheek. “None of those fancy party types would dare question your influence on this city.”
“Shrimp went flying everywhere.” Natasha pouted.
“Everyone was tired of shrimp anyway, even the shrimp.”
She grasped at the collar of your jacket and pulled you closer to her, pressing her lips against your own. They were warm, the warmest thing that you’ve felt since getting caught in the passing storm. You were careful not to lean on her ribs, breathing in the rosewater scent of her.
Natasha pressed her forehead against yours, running a hand up your spine. She grimaced. “You’re all wet.”
“Well now I am,” You smirked against her jawline, leaving a little nip in your wake. “You need to get glasses.”
“Don’t change the subject. You’re getting the sheets all damp, and you smell like fish.”
“I smell like fish?” You giggled, pressing a kiss to the exposed part of her neck. You felt Natasha laugh too, using her hands to cover her face from the blush that was blooming against her cheeks. “We’re talking about me?”
She laughed harder, attempting to shove you off but you let your body go slack against her, not using your arms to hold yourself up anymore. “Yes! Go shower!”
“Mm, but you’re so warm.”
“You’re not going to be warm if I make you sleep on the couch.”
You gasped dramatically, pulling your head off her stomach and meeting her dark green stare. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me. After the day I’ve had, I refuse to sleep next to my wife when she smells like a marina.”
Even while she said it, her voice was gentle, her fingers working over your scalp to brush the wet hair from your eyes. You pulled yourself up to give her another peck on the lips, careful to avoid the split nose and busted ankle.
“Fine, but only because you need more aspirin.”
She grunted, crossing her arms over her chest. “Can’t believe I let you through my defenses.”
“Uh-huh. Get some rest. I’m going to go talk to your defenses about getting you an appointment with an optometrist.”
You turned to move towards the bathroom, already craving the warmth of a shower and some clean pajamas. Two steps from the doorway and you felt a plush throw pillow hit you directly on the back of the head. Natasha had amazing aim, always had, and always would.
You bent down and picked up the gold upholstered pillow, giving her a faux glare. “You’re not getting this back.”
“Oh, come on, baby.” She stuck out her lower lip “I have to prop up my foot.”
“You should have thought of that before you launched it at my head.”
[Taglist🕷♡: @dumbasslesbi, @lostremind, @toouncreativeforausername @autorasexy @eringranola @mikookaaaaaao @marvelwoman-simp @pacmanmiles @mostlymarvelsstuff, @mrsrushman, @milfsandtittyenthusiast, @random-raccoon4, @ravenromanova, @mysticalmoonlight7, @ahintofchaos@cowboyboots236 @lissaaaa145, @natsxwife@a-spes, @kyleeservopoulos]
#Natasha Romanoff#Natasha Romanov#Natasha Romanoff x reader#Natasha Romanoff x y/n#Natasha Romanov x y/n#Natasha Romanov x you#Natasha Romanov x reader#Mafia au#Yelena Belova#Kate Bishop#Clint Barton#Reader insert#request#natasha romonova#Bishlova#kate bishop x yelena belova
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Royal News
quinn hughes x royal!reader
note: these two. i just-
November 22, 2023
Written by TMZ team
Her Royal Highness, Princess Y/n of Cambridge as well as the Duke and Duchess of Sussex made a surprise appearance at the Vancouver Canucks game last night.
The Princess has been on quite the anticipated tour, starting in Ottawa this past spring, heading east then ending in Victoria where she'll leave for later today.
Before the game the prince and princess had dropped the puck at the ceremonial puck drop, or rather not dropped the puck as Prince Harry had to be told to.
But it wasn't the prince's embarrassing story that's making headlines today, it's the Princess of Cambridge leaving with the Canucks captain, Quinn Hughes.
Hughes is an American hockey player, a couple years younger than our princess, but nonetheless we would love this couple together.
We know King Charles is never one to come become his children and love, we can only assume the King will be even more supportive than he was with the Duchess of Sussex. Hughes has never been married and on paper would make a great fit for our outgoing and adventures princess.
-
Quinn was on FaceTime with his brothers, they were in a hotel room in Michigan just having come back from their morning skate. Luke happened to go on his phone and see articles about his brother and the princess.
"Were you ever gonna tell us your dating a princess?!"
"We're not dating. That was my first time meeting her." The oldest said, rolling his eyes slightly, though his brothers ignored his obvious annoyance and continued their questions.
"And she came home with you?!" "Damn, Quinny!"
Rubbing his hand over his face, Quinn defends himself, "Shut up. It wasn't like that. We just talked, and got to know each other."
“Yeah? ‘Got to know each other’ how?” Jack said in his usual teasing voice with a smirk on his face.
“I don’t know, just talked- she’s coming out to Seattle in a couple days and-” “Shit! No way, dude.” Luke came into frame now, sitting next to Jack on the hotel bed. Jack elbowed Luke slightly, telling the boy to give him space before he looked back at Quinn on the screen, “And how exactly did you pull this off?”
“I have no idea, she was just waiting outside the dressing room after the game and asked me out. It was a little awkward ‘cause her security guys were right there the whole time.”
“In your apartment?” “No Lukey, outside the dressing room. They were outside the apartment the whole night though.” Jack’s head shot up at this, “She stayed the night?!”
“Yeah, but nothing happened. I’m not you.” “Fuck off.” “We talked all night and we watched a couple movies.”
Jack and Luke seemed to have got, maybe not exactly what they wanted, but got out all the questions they wanted to ask out.
-
Abby
@/abby_hughes43
Quinn is with a LITERAL PRINCESS????
Elaine @/rowdy8643 replying to @/abby_hughes43 if this is who beats me to him? i respect it
maddy @/speaknoww replying to @/abby_hughes43 Y/n 😍😍😍
georgia @/i.love.ur.son replying to @/abby_hughes43 she's a princess??
jenny @/dysdale_hughes11 replying to @/i.love.ur.son she's apart of the british royal family
Jay @/colefeeling22 replying to @/abby_hughes43 we don't know if they're together
emma @/87_crosbysgf replying to @/colefeeling22 girl...
~taglist~
@inejghafawifesblog @ghostwritermia @shallow678 @definitly-creative-words @caro8409 @anotherfan07 @books-hlmc @reminiscentyearn @bunbunbl0gs @flairupdatess
#quinn hughes#quinn hughes x royal!reader#quinn hughes x female reader#quinn hughes x fem!reader#quinn hughes fic#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes fanfiction#quinn hughes x y/n#quinn hughes imagine#nhl fanfiction#royal!reader#british royal family
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fever pitch (b.b) - prologue
soundtrack: mastermind - taylor swift pairing: footballer!bradley x popstar!reader synopsis: Bradley shoots his shot in public, but will he fumble when he meets you in person? warnings: language, drinking, meet cute notes: my first series in a while! this is shamelessly based on the epic Taylor Swift/Travis Kelce saga currently happening rn, and combine that with my innate love of football (the kicking kind, not the NFL kind) and... voila! I hope you enjoy this. Let me know what you think in the comments, reblogs, and asks. Happy reading! <3 ✨I do not have a taglist. Please follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notification to get the latest update on my fics✨
Soccer Sensation Bradley Bradshaw Fails To Shoot His Shoot With Y/N At Her Concert?
Arsenal captain Bradley Bradshaw may be among his club’s top scorers this season, but even he misses a chance in romance like the rest of us.
The 29-year-old athlete spoke about his missed opportunity with the multi-platinum songstress Y/N while speaking to his former teammate Héctor Bellerín on the latter’s podcast, “More Than A Footballer”, earlier this week.
When asked about any fun stuff he did last weekend, Bradshaw replied,
“I went to the Y/N concert at Wembley [Stadium]... it was awesome. It was pouring rain, but it was amazing. I don’t remember Wembley ever being that electric aside from, like, cup finals. She was sensational.”
Bellerín nods in agreement, having heard great things about the famed singer-songwriter’s live concerts.
Unprompted, the American midfielder then continued,
“If you’ve heard about the tour, there’s this tradition of trading friendship bracelets. And I actually made one with my number on it, hoping I could give it to her after the show…”
The Cockney-raised Spaniard cackled in surprise and teased him, “But she didn’t wanna see you, bruv? [That is] legend!”
“No hard feelings!” Bradshaw raised his hands in defense over the Zoom call. “She needed to dry off and get warm. Gotta make sure she stays healthy, protect those vocal cords. But yeah, I was a bit bummed out about it.”
Bellerín laughed and jokingly addressed the camera, “Y/N, if you’re watching, give my boy a chance, will you?”
Mononymous pop sensation Y/N is hot off of her Kaleidoscope North American Tour, which wrapped in September. Her six-show run at Wembley Stadium this November officially kicks off the European leg of her sold-out tour.
Will they be the next pop royalty and conquer the stadiums with their own crafts, or will this fizzle out as this week’s viral anecdote? The ball is in your court, Y/N.
Y/N’s representatives have not responded for comment.
***
Your Miu Miu heels click and clack against the ground. The pavement gleams after the rain and glistens under the streetlights. Everywhere you look, your eyes hurt. Down, and you worry about slipping into a puddle and falling on your ass. Forward, and a million camera flashes are ready to give you an aneurysm.
All in the name of reporting your night off of work, performing live in front of 90,000 people in a stadium.
In other words, all in a day’s work.
There’s a moment of reprieve, when the silvery white blitzes disappear into the dim tangerine lighting of the lobby. The flight down the stairs is so dark, you’re seeing green. It takes your eyes a moment to adjust, but as soon as they do, the thumping bass line of some dance music hits your ears. Clashing perfumes doused on the dancing, dressed-up bodies that you have to weave through.
You are seriously regretting your girl friends’ invite to a night out. You could’ve just had them over to your hotel, open a bunch of red wine, and you would’ve still had a blast. But no. You had to say yes to going to the Cuckoo Club with Lacey, Amara, and Jo.
And this evening is making you feel quite cuckoo.
There’s champagne at your booth and you’re much too eager to take a glass and start a toast. “Cheers, bitches!” you yell over the music, clinking your glass against theirs before downing the whole thing in one go.
It’s nowhere near enough.
There’s not enough buzz to dull the assault to your senses—not even after the three glasses of wine at dinner earlier. Everything is still too loud, too bright, too crowded, too… much.
“Hey!” you nudge Amara, who is sitting right next to you. “Let’s do shots!”
She turns to you, eyes widening at the slightest. “I thought you wanted to take it easy tonight!”
“Changed my mind,” you shrug, as you get up to the bar.
While you make your way through the crowd on the dance floor, Bradley Bradshaw looks up from his booth and does a double-take at the girl who just walked by. Even in a high-end club full of the well-dressed and well-heeled, people still get starstruck. And why wouldn’t they? You’re about as famous as an iPhone.
His eyes widen and immediately whips out his phone to shoot a text to his oldest and most trusted friend Natasha Trace.
‘Dude, I’m in the club and Y/N just walked in. What do I do??’
Natasha thankfully texts back almost immediately. Then again, maybe being a Communications Director for a major company requires her to be a good texter. ‘Wdym what do you do? Just go talk to her.’
‘You were supposed to introduce us!’ Bradley replies, eyes darting between his phone and you at the bar, conflicted.
Natasha is a mutual friend of yours, too, and when the Bracelet-gate clip went viral, she laughed in his face for a full 5 minutes before deciding to set the two of you up. But the schedule never really aligned, so he hasn’t got a chance to see you. Not even after he went to your concert with a friendship bracelet and a dream.
And now, seeing you here in the same room at the same time as him…
‘What do you want me to do, get down there and do it for you?’
‘...Can you?’
He senses the judgment even as the three dots appear on his screen.
‘Stop being a pussy, Bradshaw. Let me Netflix and chill with my gf in peace.’
Bradley scoffs, half-annoyed and half-fond. ‘Asshole. Have fun.’
The dance floor clears up, just enough to see that you’re right there. Leaning against the bar in your dress like a dirty daydream, talking to the bartender, and he couldn’t just let you go without a word. He thought about it, and he simply couldn’t.
“Oi, where are you off to?” His teammate Martin hollers, while the others watch him make his way to the bar in determined strides.
He squeezes past patrons across this jungle of a club, hoping to God that somebody hasn’t beaten him to talk to you yet, or you haven’t ducked out completely. Oh fuck. You’re still there, though. Good. You’re still at the bar, still glimmering under the mirrorball. Just a tap on the shoulder away. You can do it, Bradshaw…
“Excuse me, I—”
You feel the hand on your shoulder just as you turn and stand up, and in a flurry of miscoordination, looks up just as the other person moves in.
In a stroke of dumb luck, Bradley feels the top of your head slamming up against his nose and he groans in pain. “Ohh!”
“Shit! Oh my God…” you gasp, reaching out to the man in front of you. He’s tall, very tall, and you can’t quite see his face with his massive hand clutching his nose. “I’m so sorry…”
“No, it’s okay. My bad…” It really doesn’t seem like it, so he lets go of his nose and smiles sheepishly. Gosh, he must’ve looked stupid right now.
But you see it differently. What you see is a dashing man in a sleek tieless navy suit and a well-groomed mustache, straight out of a Cinemascope flick, ever so handsome despite his reddened nose from the way you just accidentally headbutted him. “No, that was totally mine. Are you okay?”
Your eyes are crystal clear even in the dim light, the concern is palpable in your gaze—and rightly so. It’s just that he’d take the headbutt any day, if it means he can look at your beautiful face. “I’m… I’m swell. Y/N, right?”
There’s a shift in your gaze. First, alert—you’re assessing how much of a potential threat this person is, whether they’re gonna be weird about you— and then it relaxes. Not a threat. Then a slightest hint of mischief, like she wants to know what kind of dynamics they would have. “Have we met?”
And boy, can he.
“We haven’t, actually. But I went to your show at Wembley earlier this week. You were amazing.” He offers a handshake. “Bradley Bradshaw.”
You didn’t quite catch his name over the blaring music, although you shake his hand anyway. “Sorry?”
He leans into your ear, “I’m Bradley Bradshaw.”
You don’t know which one makes your heart skip, the sudden close proximity, the warmth of his timbre, or the whiff of his perfume.
“Right. Nice to meet you, Bradley Bradshaw.” You accept his handshake, hoping he doesn’t see how flustered you are in the strobing purple light.
“Likewise.” He nods with a smile. “And may I just say… you look stunning.”
“What, this old thing?” You brush down the art nouveau-inspired Balmain dress on your body. You’re just being modest, of course; you know you’re dressed to the nines. You have never been much into facial hair, but somehow that mustache suits him very well. “You don’t look so bad yourself. You remind me of a… young Robert Mitchum. Or Paul Newman— or one of those Golden Age leading men.”
His face lights up. It’s hardly the first time he received that kind of compliment, but when it came from you, it feels… different. It feels special. It makes him just a little bolder. “Yeah? Maybe after a few drinks, I’ll be quoting lines from Butch Cassidy. Or would you prefer Cat On A Hot Tin Roof?”
This piques your interest. A man of culture, it seems. But of course, you can’t be too sure. “I’m more of a Paris Blues kinda gal, I’m afraid.”
Gosh, you don’t swoon so easily and he likes you so much for that. “Makes sense.”
“How so?”
“It’s a good underrated musical movie, for the musically gifted… And Sidney Poitier was just fantastic in that.”
“Huh.” You raise your eyebrows. You honestly thought he was just spouting the famous titles. But the fact that he has likely seen this hidden gem might just mean he’s really into it. “Aren’t you full of surprises.”
He leans in to speak in your ear yet again. “If you stick with me for a bit, I might show you another surprise or two.”
The music drowns out your racing heart just barely, and the bartender places a whole set of tequila shots on the bar top, and it snaps you out of your reverie for a moment.
“Wanna get some air?”
He seems surprised, but of course he wasn’t gonna throw away this shot. “Sure. Why not?”
You instruct the bartender to send the shots to your booth, not even spending ten seconds to ponder staying in this deafening hell hole. Not when this man looks like peace. Perhaps an undercurrent of mystery underneath, but his whole demeanor is as calm and comforting as those old-school movies you put on to fall asleep. At the same time, something about this person pulls you in, it’s almost magnetic, and you can’t help wanting to see this through.
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