#none of them really ever figured out the whole team sport thing

[seblrina]

f1 drivers would probably be a lot more normal and well adjusted if they grew up playing team sports and learned how to hug other men

[senditcolton]

Don’t You Dream Impossible Things?

summary: it was awards season and you were nominated for the biggest award of your broadcasting career. you couldn’t wait to experience the star-studded night, especially with your boyfriend Tyler by your side. 

song word count: 4.9k warnings: none! just (self-indulgent) fluff!

Disclaimer: Reading/creating content for married players isn’t for everyone. Please don’t read if you don’t vibe with it, but don’t attack me or others!

“Hey babe! Are you ready to go?”

You hear Tyler’s voice call from the other room, your brain registering the familiar sound, but you don’t quite grasp his words as you continue to stare at yourself in the full-length mirror. You turn to the side, taking in your figure in the elegant dress, your hands trailing across the fabric. Another turn, another tepid check at your appearance.

Is this too much? Do the accessories compliment the dress? Should you have done your makeup differently? Was there enough time to change anything?

These thoughts run around your head as you continue to move, continue to critique, the fabric of the gown gently swishing against the carpeted floor beneath your feet. You are so caught up that you don’t even notice Tyler enter the room until you hear a low whistle sound from behind you. You spin to look over at your boyfriend and smile when you see his expression.

“Wow,�� he quietly says, his jaw dropped and his eyes dancing across your frame, taking in everything; from your styled hair to the details on your dress. You appraise him similarly, your knees weakening at how good he looks in a simple yet stylish black tuxedo with a classic bowtie. Shifting, you face the mirror again and hear Tyler whistle again at the dresses low, delicate, detailed back. Your eyes focus back on yourself as you gently mess with your hair, moving it so it lays exactly the way you want it to. Your actions are stopped when you feel Tyler wrap his arms around your waist and your eyes connect with his in the reflection.

“You look amazing baby,” he says, placing a gentle kiss on your bare shoulder.

“Do I?” you ask, wanting your voice to come out light and teasing but your tone betrays you. You can see Tyler’s eyebrows furrow in the mirror.

“Yes, you do,” he says firmly, locking eyes with you again. “You are going to be the most stunning person on that red carpet, I promise.” You don’t respond, instead choosing to mess with the rings on your fingers. Tyler notices your actions and gently grasps your hands, pulling them apart. He intertwines his fingers with yours and spins you until you are facing away from the mirror and now looking at him instead.

“What is going on? What’s happening in that amazing head of yours?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’m just nervous about tonight,” you respond. Tonight, was the Sports Emmy Awards show and you had been nominated for Outstanding Sports Personality as a Studio Host for the NHL, one of the most prestigious awards in Sports Broadcasting.

When you first started broadcasting in the league for the Winnipeg Jets, people applauded you for your unique and entertaining commentary, along with the insane amounts of hockey knowledge that you had. You had garnered so much attention that it wasn’t long until the Jets brought you up in the organization, giving you more air time, more interviews, and more freedom. Fans in Winnipeg said that you had brought in a breath of fresh air to the stale, sometimes boring way hockey games were discussed and the NHL quickly noticed. You were offered multiple positions with the National Broadcast and it took a while and a decent amount of convincing for you to leave Winnipeg, the team that really gave you that chance. But you did and quickly became one of the most talked about names in hockey broadcasting.

Butterflies had been fluttering in your stomach ever since you heard the news of your nomination and they had only intensified as the day grew closer. And now that it was here, it felt like there was a whole tornado happening inside of you. You were grateful and excited and happy and nervous and terrified, all at the same time. And normally, Tyler would be the one that you would turn to. But now, he, specifically the idea of your and him and your relationship, was tangled in with everything else you were feeling.

“Are you nervous about the award or about us?” Tyler asked, reading you like he always managed to do, delicately voicing your fears into reality.

You had started dating Tyler a few months ago, after connecting with him at a networking event with some of the biggest players in the league. The two of you had kept your relationship relatively private, only vaguely mentioned each other from time to time. With the exception of your bosses, whose only request was for you to remain impartial in your broadcasting, no one outside of immediate friends and family knew about you and him. But tonight, you both decided that it was time to go public with your relationship. And if you were being honest, it scared the shit out of you. You were worried that as soon as you were connected with him, your own achievements to be downplayed.

“Both?” you reply, your shoulders lightly rising, your eyes tearing away from him, your hands once again moving to fidget with your rings.

“Hey.” Tyler places a hand under your chin, pulling your eyes to connect with his again. “Tonight, is about you. Not me, not us… you. And I will make sure that everyone knows how amazing, beautiful, and insanely talented you are. Because you are.”

His words melt into your heart as you lean into him, connecting his lips to yours. His arms wrap around you and yours do the same as the two of your continue to kiss in the low lamplight of your bedroom. The two of you break away but stay wrapped up in each other for a few moments, enjoying the feeling of being together.

“Oh, and you are totally going to win,” Tyler whispers to you and you can’t help the giggle that comes out of your lips.

“Tyler Seguin, always the charmer,” you laugh and Tyler pulls away, dramatically bowing and placing a kiss to your hand.

“Just telling you the facts,” he replies, shooting a wink up at you. Your laughter continues as you grab your purse, linking your arm with his and finally letting him lead you out of the room.

“You know, no matter how much you compliment me, I’m still not going to do a special on you during my broadcast – or the Dallas Stars,” you quickly interject as you see his mouth open in rebuttal. Tyler lets out an exaggerated sigh.

“Well, it was worth a shot,” he jokes and you playfully smack him across the chest with your clutch. He giggles and his laughter, always infectious, causes you to laugh as well, feeling lighter than you had been since this morning.

Your joy continues as you and Tyler make your way to the limo waiting outside your apartment and head off towards the awards ceremony. But when you turn the corner and slowly pull up to the event, you feel your heartbeat start up again. And when the limo finally comes to a stop at the beginning of the red carpet, you are sure that if you didn’t have a ribcage, your heart would have beaten out of your chest by now. You silently watch as Tyler pulls open the door first, and hear the clamor of the crowd as he steps out, shouts of his name going up. He ignores them all, instead turning back and holding out a hand to you. You take one last deep breath and delicately place your hand in his, letting him pull you out of the limo.

If you thought the crowd of fans outside was loud before, they became almost deafening when they saw you and Tyler together, his arm secured tightly around your waist. You waved at a few people, smiling as you saw a few people holding pictures of you. You notice a young girl against the barricade, holding a handmade sign: “HEY, Y/N! DO YOU NEED HELP IN THE STUDIO?”. You gently break away from Tyler and make your way over to her.

“Hi,” you say, brightly greeting her. “What’s your name?”

“Chloe,” she replies after a few gentle prods of encouragement from her parents behind her, obviously star-struck that you were talking to her.

“Hi Chloe. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“You are so awesome!” she exclaims and you let out a small laugh at her excitement.

“Thank you. And to answer the question on your sign, I could definitely use some help. Do you have any cool ideas that we could do?”

“Yeah,” Chloe shouts and immediately launches into her ideas, her nerves from earlier clearly fading away. “I think it would be fun if you did karaoke with the players! Or maybe made them do figure skating or something like that.”

“Do you figure skate?” you ask and Chloe furiously shakes her head in confirmation. “Well, you might have to teach me some moves before because I can barely stand in skates!”

“Really?” Chloe asks, her eyes almost comically widening in shock.

“Yeah,” you reply. “Just because I talk about players skating up and down the ice doesn’t mean I can do what they can. But…” you lean in, your hand going to cover your mouth as if telling her a secret. “I don’t think a lot of them would be able to do some of the figure skating moves you can do. I think most of them would fall flat on their faces.” Chloe lets out a giggle and you laugh with her.

“Even him?” she asks, pointing behind you. You turn your head to see Tyler standing a short distance away, his eyes bright as he smiles at your interaction with Chloe. You turn back to her and raise your eyebrows in an exaggerated way.

“Oh, absolutely,” you say and Chloe laughs even more at your response. You smile, autographing her sign, adding a little note to the corner and take a quick selfie with her before security is pushing you to move into the event. You wave goodbye and walk back to Tyler, who immediately takes you back into his arms.

“Have I mentioned how much I love you?” he whispers into your hair as the two of you continue to walk down the red carpet.

“You may have said something once or twice,” you chirp. The two of you continue into the event and as you are about to enter the actual red carpet, you noticed a few Dallas Stars fans on the other side, cheering for Tyler. You expected to see a few of them in the crowd, as the organization was also nominated for an award tonight.

“Go say hi to them,” you say, gently nudging Tyler and pointing their direction. His head swivels towards them and their cheers get even louder when he makes eye contact. He turns back to you.

“Are you sure? They’re pushing you to go in.”

“I’m sure. I can manage in there on my own for a few minutes,” you reply, smiling at his concern. He presses a quick kiss to your lips.

“I’ll find you as soon as I can. Promise,” he says to you before jogging over to the Stars fans after a final nudge from you. You smile as you watch him greet them, his hands instantly reaching for a Sharpie to sign the multitude of picture, jerseys, and pucks that were handed to him. You almost don’t want to go in, content to watch your boyfriend joyfully interacting with fans but a security guard comes up to you, pushing you to enter the red carpet. You let him guide you to the entrance and take one last deep breath before you walk in.

As soon as you enter, you hear the paparazzi call your name. You put on your studio smile and gladly pose for them, the flash from the cameras dazzling you. You are guided down the carpet, stopping occasionally to let them take your picture, time passing as you are constantly moved forward, until you are almost halfway down the carpet. You barely notice the clamor from the paparazzi rise as you are pushed to your next spot until you look up and Tyler is standing right next to you. You can’t help the smile that breaks onto your face as he takes you into his arms, pulling you close and facing the cameras as they flash even brighter around you, more cameras pointed towards you at Tyler’s appearance.

You and Tyler continue to pose for them and you hear your name continue to be called out. But you notice that your name is now sprinkled occasionally in with Tyler’s name, the paparazzi calling to him and begging for his attention instead of yours. Your face slightly falters but you don’t let them notice. Although, while you could hide your feelings from them, you were never good at hiding them from Tyler.

“Are you okay?” he asks, leaning down to whisper the question into your hair.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you lie, not wanting to voice your fears. Tyler doesn’t seem convinced but doesn’t push you anymore, instead taking your hand and giving a small squeeze.

One of the event organizers comes up to you and asks if you would be willing to do an interview. You say yes and they direct you away from Tyler, who lingers on the carpet, letting the paparazzi take more pictures of him. You are led to the interviewer patiently waiting on the edge of the carpet. You smile and greet him warmly and he launches into his questions. Most of them were questions you had heard before and were expecting: your feelings at being nominated, how you got your ideas, your career path, etc. You answer the questions as truthfully as you can, always being kind and courteous. That is, until the interviewer starts to bring up Tyler.

“So, you came here with Tyler Seguin?” he starts off, ending what should be a statement in a question.

“Yes, I did,” you reply, not giving him any more than was necessary. You response obviously does not please him as he continues to press on.

“Are the two of you dating? Seeing each other? Just friends?”

“We are dating. We have been for about six months now.”

“Six months? Wow, that is a pretty long time and this is the first we, as fans, are hearing about it. Why all the secrecy?” You hesitate, trying to piece your words together carefully.

“I wouldn’t call it secrecy. We just wanted to keep our relationship on the private side, simply because of our careers.”

“I see. Well, I suppose that now, if you start to praise the Dallas Stars, we’ll know why,” he laughs, as if he’s made a hilarious joke instead of questioning your ability to remain professional in the studio.

“Actually, if I praise the Dallas Stars, I can assure you it will be because they are playing a good strong game, which is what I always do,” you reply, your patience starting to wear thin. You can see the interviewer notice your tone, his expression quickly changing.

“Of course, of course,” he says, his eyes locking with yours. “So, in your professional opinion, why do you think the Stars didn’t make the Stanley Cup playoffs this year?”

“For me, the one thing the Stars lacked was stamina. They always started off very strong in games, oftentimes scoring first and making a powerful offensive showing in the first period. However, if you look at their statistics from this season, their production often fell in the second or third periods which lead to a few too many losses. I think they had all the elements of a winning team; standup defense, strong goal scorers, faceoff wins, and a good rotation of players between the pipes. Next season, I think they need to simply work on playing a full 60-minute hockey game.”

You stare down the interviewer as you answer, your voice remaining calm and cool, as you voice opinions that you had any time the Stars had come up in during your broadcasts. You can see him tense as you give nothing but concise and consistent analysis. You think that you have beaten him until you see his eyes flash to something behind your left shoulder.

“Well, speaking of, here comes Tyler Seguin himself.” You feel Tyler’s hand land on your lower back before you see him pop up next to you. You instinctively melt into his touch and turn your eyes to his, his smile still bright on his face.

“Tyler, your girlfriend has just given us some scathing critique on what went wrong for the Dallas Stars this season, stating that the team never played a full 60-minutes of hockey,” you tense in Tyler’s grasp, the desire to throttle the man in front of you growing. If this was a hockey game, this interviewer would definitely be getting an embellishment penalty. Tyler can feel your body shift under his hand and he looks down at you, noticing the way your jaw was clenched, your body almost thrumming with intensity.

“What do you think her comments?” The interviewer holds out the microphone towards Tyler and you fight the urge to grab Tyler’s hand a walk away, not wanting to give this man any more of your time or energy. Before you could, you feel Tyler pull you into his side, his hand gently squeezing your waist.

“I’m sure that whatever critique Emmy-Nominated sports host Y/F/N gave you was an insightful look into what our hockey club could improve on. As for me, I would be willing to sit down with you at any other point in the future to discuss this year’s season, but tonight is about her. I am simply here to support and cheer on my insanely talented girlfriend.”

You can feel your heart melting as Tyler speaks. And when you look back to the interviewer, your heart almost starts soaring at the disappointed look on his face. He quickly wraps up the interview, thanking you both for your time. Tyler grips your hand and leads you away, the two of you walking the last few steps of the red carpet towards the entrance.

“God, what an ass,” Tyler mutters under his breath. You stop, pausing your movements and Tyler looks down at you, the confusion clear on his face. You don’t speak, instead moving to cradle his face and pulling him into a gentle kiss. He returns the kiss and pulls you closer until you break apart.

“What was that for?” he asks.

“Have I mentioned how much I love you?” you reply, echoing his words from earlier. Another smile graces his face, the infectious grin forcing you to smile back up at him.

“If I say not really, will that make you kiss me again?”

“It wouldn’t hurt your chances.”

“Well then, you could mention it a few more times,” he teases and you lean up, pressing another quick kiss to his lips.

“I really love you.” Tyler says nothing, instead choosing to take your arm in his as he leads you into the building. The two of you find your table and you spend the few minutes before the awards ceremony mingling with the people around you, Tyler finding you a small flute of champagne, his hand finding yours, fingers intertwining.

The ceremony begins and you politely cheer for all the announced winners. You give Tyler a sympathetic smile when the Stars lose to the Yankees for Outstanding Open/Tease and he shrugs, saying that you can’t win them all. The award show moves on until finally, the presenters come onstage for Outstanding Sports Personality, Studio Host. Your eyes watch the screens in front of you as they announce the nominees and you can hear Tyler clapping the loudest when your name pops up on the screen.

There is a pause as the presenters wait for the audience to silence. You take a deep breath, the butterflies starting in your stomach again. You were up against some amazing competition and you knew that all of them were just as deserving as you. The anticipation was killing you and you continued to look up at the stage as the presenters started to open the envelope. You can feel Tyler’s hand reach out and clasp yours. He lifts it up to his lips, pressing a kiss against your knuckles. The action tears your attention away from the stage towards him.

“No matter what, you will always be a winner to me,” he whispers into your hand and you soften at his words. You look back towards the stage as the presenter clears their throat.

“And the Emmy goes to…. “Y/F/N from the National Hockey League!”

It seems as if the entire world goes blank as soon as you hear those words. Your jaw drops open and for a few moments, the only thing you can do is sit in stunned silence as the applause goes up from around you. You barely register Tyler leaping out of his seat, his joyful screech echoing around the room as he celebrates. It isn’t until Tyler practically pulls you up from your own chair and pulls you into a bone-crushing hug to you fully register exactly what happened. You’ve won. You’ve just won an Emmy.

The tears of joy start to prick at the corners of your eyes as you grip Tyler’s coat jacket and hug him back just as tightly. He pulls you away, his hands cupping your jaw as he presses kisses all over your face; your forehead, your nose, your lips. You feel his thumbs brush away any of the droplets that had fallen from your eyes and gives you one last quick kiss until he is gently pushing you towards the stage, his loud celebration following you as you weave your way through the tables.

You walk up the few steps onto stage and are greeted by the presenters, each of them pulling you into a congratulatory hug. They place the Emmy into your hands and you look down at the golden statue in your hands. Your eyes don’t leave the award as you walk up to the microphone and stay connected to the metal until you finally find your words.

“Um, wow,” you start, the first words that you could articulate falling from your mouth. “Um, I didn’t expect this at all and I just want to thank everyone here at the Emmy’s for choosing me. I also want to congratulate my fellow nominees. You are all masters at your craft and I have constantly looked to you for inspiration and guidance on how to improve my own broadcasting. I also want to thank everyone who has believed in me and supported me in this journey; my family, my friends, the Winnipeg Jets organization for giving me a chance and helping me grow, and of course, the NHL for gracing me with this once in a lifetime opportunity. Without all of you, I would never be here today, so thank you.”

“Something that a lot of people may not know about me is that when I was younger, I wanted to be an actress. I dreamed of winning an Emmy, but for a breakthrough role in a television series. And I pushed myself to exceed in theatre, constantly auditioning and working to try and achieve that dream. Unfortunately, that dream never came close to reality as I was cast less and less and in smaller and smaller roles. Finally, a point came when I was lucky to get even one callback, let alone a part. I had moved back in with my parents and there were moments when I didn’t even want to get out of bed because I knew all I would hear that day was more rejections. At that point, I was lost and confused. I had trained and trained for this. I was so confident that I was going to make it and I… didn’t. I felt completely unmoored, uncertain about my future. And no one tells you how scary that is.”

“Then one night in the middle of this uncertainty, my family went to see our local NHL team play. And something clicked for me. I grew up with sports, I went to my first sports game before I was a year old, but it was never something I thought about devoting my life too. Mostly because I believed that I already found my passion. But then I found hockey. And I realized that I had always enjoyed it; enjoyed watching it, enjoyed talking about it, enjoyed learning everything I could about it. And that was the greatest discovery I could have made. Because with it, I found joy, and excitement, and comradery.”

“Hockey is has brought so much to my life: a purpose, a drive, happiness. It has given me a fruitful career, some irreplaceable friends, and my amazing sweet boyfriend. And now, it has given me this. And I can’t wait to see what’s next. Thank you.”

You step back from the microphone as the applause from the crowd goes up around you again. You smile and hold your award up in celebration. Your eyes graze over the crowd until they finally connect with Tyler, standing tall and his hands furiously coming together. He catches your gaze and gives you a loud whistle and your heart skips a beat at the pure joy and pride in his eyes.

Before you can even register what is happening, you are whisked off the stage into the wings. You linger there for a few moments, receiving more congratulations from others that were already there. You are pulled away to a small photoshoot with the paparazzi, your name being shouted from their lips as you proudly hold up your award. After a few moments, you are guided to a small booth where your award is taken, the small plaque carefully removed as you filled out your name on piece of paper for them to properly engrave the metal that would grace the front of the statue forever. It is there where Tyler finally finds you.

“MY GIRL IS AN EMMY AWARD WINNER,” you hear Tyler shout and you shriek with joy as his arms wrap around your waist, picking you up and spinning you around. You dissolve into giggles as he places you back down, spinning you to face him. He beams down at you, his eyes reflecting nothing but love. He leans down, pecking a quick kiss to your lips and you giggle against him.

He pauses, looking down at you, his expression softening as he takes in your beaming face. You heart falters as you take in his expression, the absolute love pouring from him like a waterfall, directly into you. Your own expression softens and you reach for his hand. His fingers interlock with yours as he pulls your hand up to his chest as your free hand comes up to tangle in the curls at the nape of his neck. You can feel his free hand land on your lower back and gasp when he sharply pulls you into him, his forehead leaning to touch yours.

“Congratulations baby,” he whispers to you and your only response is to press his lips into yours. The kiss sends jolts of electricity all the way down to your toes and you can’t help the smile curls your lips against Tyler’s. You can feel his lips mirror yours as you two press closer together. You were certain you could spend your entire life here with him and you were certain that you would until the sound of a throat clearing behind you pulls you attention away.

You look back and see the engraver at the booth looking at you, your award sitting next to him. The heat that rises to your cheeks is involuntary as you untangle from Tyler and turn back toward the booth. Tyler doesn’t let you get away for very long though, his hands wrapping around you from behind, his chin coming to rest on one shoulder.

“Here is you award, Miss Y/L/N. Engraved properly and freshly cleaned. Here are your cleaning supplies as well instructions on how to properly take care of your award,” he says, handing you a small black velvet bag.

“I have to take care of it? I just thought I stick it on a shelf and forget about it,” you mutter and you can feel Tyler’s body behind you rumble with laughter. You look up and see the engraver looking less than pleased.

“Sorry,” you quickly say with a chuckle, “first-time parent, I suppose.”  The engraver’s expression gently softens at your joke, a small laughter pulled from them.

“Your award is your to do what you wish with it. But we do recommend an occasional clean just to keep it looking it’s best. Congratulations again, Miss Y/L/N.”

You thank him, placing the small bag in your purse and picking up your Emmy. You angle it, your hands gripping the statue and supporting the base. Your eyes dance across the curves of your name, taking in the letters delicately pressed into the gold. A soft pair of lips presses against your bare shoulder and you smile, your head leaning over to your side until it is gently leaning against Tyler’s.

“I knew you were going to win it,” he whispers into your hair, his eyes following the same path as your, tracing over the latter that spelled out your name.

“Thanks for believing in me,” you reply, sighing as Tyler’s hand comes up to cradle your head, his lips moving to press a kiss into your temple.

“Always.”

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[troubatrain]

want you to want me - m. tkachuk

a/n: i’m awful at intros but this fic is my whole ass child. i started it months ago and i picked it up back and then i just couldn’t stop writing. now we’re at a whopping 10k words and i’m really happy with the way this one came out. i hope you guys like it as much as i loved writing it.

big thanks to @hookingminor @igor-shestyorkin & @tkafuckit for reading this as i wrote it and gassing me up ily all sm

warnings: smut

You were Matthew’s dream girl, and you didn’t have a fucking clue. You were leaning against the cold metal bleachers of your former high school, chatting with whatever teacher probably wanted to hear all about that shiny NWSL contract you signed right out of college with the Chicago Red Stars. It was well deserved, a few national titles in college put you in the position in the first place, and Matthew respected the hell out of you. You wouldn’t know, by the way he never seems like he actually wants to speak to you and the few snide remarks about your sport in general. That started forever ago, when Matthew royally fucked up any chance he had with you later in life because he was a competitive asshole.

It started when you were twelve, and middle school was nothing short of a mess. Matthew was growing into his own, adding a near foot to his height over one summer while his father and coaches doted on the fact that he was getting bigger. Getting bigger meant getting better, and for a few years winning was the most important thing in the world. But, becoming a hormonal preteen came with something else, feelings about the girl who sat three rows behind him in almost all of his classes.

Then third period gym class came around, and Matthew was a competitive monster. The kind of kid who took that way too seriously, and you accidentally became public enemy number one. You were the only person in his class who could even come close to beating him at anything, because you were just as much of an athlete as he was. Soccer had become your craft, and much like Matthew, you declared you’d go pro one day. So, Matthew did what any other insecure twelve year old boy would, he teased you relentlessly. It was awful, but by the time Matthew had gone off to play for the National team you had forgotten about his bullshit.

Apparently, you’d done something in a past life to warrant dealing with Matthew for longer than you ever anticipated. Jamie was your little sister, and Taryn’s best friend. Best friend was probably understatement, the pair were inseparable on and off the field. They trained together, they played on the same teams and that meant way too much time with the rest of the Tkachuk’s. You learned quickly, that the rest of their family was wonderful and Matthew seemed to be too thick headed to fall in line.

You tolerated Matthew, brushing his silly remarks off just like you did when you were younger. The thing was, Matthew didn’t want you to just tolerate him, but he didn’t know how to get you to stop hating him. You make your way over to Matthew who’d been standing next to his brother since the start of your sister’s game.

“Hi Brady,” You greet, tapping Brady on the shoulder who pulled you into a bone crushing hug. That annoyed Matthew the most, the way you seemed to love his siblings and despise him. In your defense, nobody was more supportive of your professional career than Brady, who’d made a promise to catch a game the second he could, “Hi Matthew.”

You were waiting for something from Matthew, an acknowledgement for finally achieving a dream of yours. You’d gotten the congratulations from the rest of his family, a massive celebration because Keith thought you deserved it. Matthew probably didn’t think you did. You could practically hear his smug little voice about how much his recently inked contract was compared to yours, because you’d heard it since you were kids. He used to rip on your athletic abilities every chance he could, something about how it didn’t matter how hard you could kick a ball you couldn’t hold a hockey stick so he was just better.

“You’re here!” You hear the chipper voice of your little sister approach, Jamie’s sweaty postgame arms wrapped around your waist. You’d been in Chicago, signing some paperwork and looking into finding a place to stay when you had to go for camp. You promised you’d make it back in time, and your flight landed less than five hours ago but you made it.

Matthew bit the inside of his cheek to keep his smile to himself, watching his own sister push past him to see you. Taryn loved you, because sometimes she just needed a big sister and her brothers were in another country most

of the time. It was the part that killed him the most, seeing you with his family. You fit right in, a fierce athlete with drive that rivaled his own. Brady side-eyed his own brother, watching him instead of the scene unfolding in front of him. He was frustrated with his own brother for not just telling you the truth, that he teased you because he was an idiot who didn’t know how to handle having a crush on you.

But Brady was going to do it himself if his brother didn’t.

***

Matt, you don’t have a girlfriend right?

Matthew knew damn well he should not have answered his sister’s question, but when he realized her best friend had been sitting right next to her in the kitchen, his curiosity got the best of him. So he did, telling his sister he was single and sparing her details of any of the girls he’d gone on dates with the past year. That was his life is Calgary, a constant revolving door so no one would see what was underneath layers of sarcasm and angst. But every summer, he’d come home and wonder when he’d start to build a life for himself, and if he’d ever find that person to do it with. That was when his brain would start to wander, fantasies of a future that always seemed to involve you. He loved to imagine it, the years that you’d both spend supporting the other’s dream. Matthew would do anything to make sure you achieved yours, and he thought you’d do the same. Then you’d both settle down, the big house with the white picket fence and a shiny ring on your finger Matthew put there himself and years of arguing about what sport your future children would play - he’d even consider letting you have just one.

Unfortunately, none of that could be real until he figured out how to get you to hate him less. Taryn apparently had the same idea, and had been scheming with your sister for months. The two girls were looking at Matthew with devilish grins on their faces, like whatever they came up with would totally work.

“Y/N doesn’t have a boyfriend,” Your sister hums, sipping the smoothie they forced Matthew to drive them to go get, “It’s sad actually-”

“We think you should date,” Taryn explains, Matthew’s eyes went wide. His sister didn’t know the whole story, or just how far back this stupid fued went. Taryn always loved you, so Matthew just kept his remarks to himself.

“I know you know Y/N doesn’t like me very much,” Matthew explains, “So tell me how that’s going to work.”

“Apologize to her, if she can forgive me for anything she’ll forgive you,” Jamie sighs, thinking of all the times you’d shown her mercy when she didn’t deserve it.

“You’ve got to be sorry,” Brady interrupts, mouth full of food while he goes to go look for more in the fridge. He turns around, Matthew’s eyes giving him daggers, “What? You were a dick to her for years, you’ve got to fix that first.”

It didn’t take much convincing after that, Taryn had already planned out what Matthew should say to you. Matthew wasn’t going to repeat those words, because he knew exactly what he’d say to you if he ever got the chance. He was trying to fix his past, because the way he acted towards you was the one thing he regrets. 

So with the help of your little sister and the Find my Friends app, Matthew was pulling up to a soccer field he’d been to plenty of times. He used to run through the park nearby, catching a glimpse of your practices when you were in high school and Matthew was an afterthought. He hops out of his car, smiling when he could see you running drills alone. You were dribbling the ball, counting to yourself while you were weaving through cones you set up.

“I’ve never been good at those,” Matthew calls out, walking over to you while you stopped and caught your breath, “I kick the cones with my skate every single time.”

“Maybe you’re not as good as you think you are,” You tease, grabbing your water and guzzling it down, “What are you doing here?”

“I, uh, I came to apologize?” Matthew admits, knowing his face was probably bright red. He was nervous, the good kind like he got before a big game, “I was just an insecure kid then, and you didn’t deserve what I did just because I was afraid you’d beat in something.”

Matthew left out the part where he felt like he was still that kid all the time. All of those insecurities about himself seemed to be picked up by every reporter in Canada when he was there. You bit your lip, pretending like you were trying to debate whether or not you should forgive Matthew at all. In reality, you would have forgiven him ages ago if he’d just apologized sooner. It was so long ago, and sometimes you thought Matthew’s constant taunting made you better. He was pleading, baby blue eyes staring at you sadly while he waited for your answer. He looked like he didn’t think he deserved to be forgiven, shoulders slumped while he tried to read your body language. It was something you noticed about Matthew forever ago, he could have everything in the world but when he looked at you he seemed almost sad.

“I mean I could forgive you, but only if you beat me,” You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow at Matthew, “If I win, I don’t have to and if you win all is forgiven.”

“Really? Isn’t that why we were in this situation to begin with?” Matthew points out, crossing his arms at you.

“I thought you weren’t that kid anymore,” You remind of his own words, testing him to see if he’d put his money where his mouth was. Matthew smirks, chuckling to himself, “C’mon Tkachuk let’s see what you got.”

Matthew shook his head, laughing and lining up next to you. You both counted to three, sprinting down the field at full force. Matthew knew his height was the only thing working to his advantage while he tried to keep up with you. You were nearing your finish line, and Matthew didn’t think he was going to win. You were going to forgive him regardless, but Matthew didn’t know that. His arms stretched out, grabbing your waist and pulling you into his chest. Matthew turned his body around, stepping over the line before you did.

“God, you’re such a fucking cheater Matthew,” You hit his chest, Matthew’s hands still firmly placed on your hips.

“I didn’t want to lose,” Matthew admits, all of his smug attitude diminishing immediately, “Just want you to forgive me.”

“I’ll forgive you if you never pull that shit on me again,” You poke his chest, slipping out of his grip and running to your stuff before he could notice how nervous he was making you. 

No. Absolutely not. You told yourself while you checked your phone, rolling your eyes at the warning text from Jamie that Matthew was on his way, you couldn’t have anything but indifference to Matthew Tkachuk. It got harder everytime you saw him, the past few years had been nothing short of kind to him, he was growing from a dumb immature boy to a man more and more every summer. You turn around, peeking at Matthew who was sitting down and catching his breath, a winning smile on his face, the same kind he had the very first time he schooled everyone at floor hockey in middle school.

Maybe you could be friends.

***

Matthew liked having you as a friend, mostly because as of right now that was all he was going to get. You definitely didn’t trust him, which was valid considering Matthew had been a dick to you for years, but he was working on it. He had to, that uncontrollable feeling that he cared about you was getting harder to shove back down with every year that passed.

“You’re friends now, you don’t need to stare at her like a creep anymore,” Brady scoffs, watching his brother gawk at you from afar. Matthew couldn’t help it, you just had a glow about you, you always did, but somehow in the summer you were golden. Tonight you looked even better, maybe it’s because you smiled at him when he walked instead of scowling like you usually did.

“He’s in love with you,” Steph giggles, sipping her drink and giving Matthew a side eye, “He’s been staring at you all night.”

“He apologized to me,” You confess, holding in that little secret about Matthew’s visit to the field even from your best friend. You had the same friends, the same group of people who’d been pushing the two of you to work it out for years. It wasn’t that you didn’t want them to know that they no longer had to worry about one of you blowing up because the other was there, you just wanted everyone to let it go too. Matthew deserved a little forgiveness, you could only imagine the pressure he felt on himself back then, and while he didn’t totally deserve your protection - you were going to give it to him, “Don’t-”

“Oh wonder why, I know it’s because he looooves you,” Steph teases, “Did you forgive him?”

“Yeah I mean we’re both older and I’d like to think he’s wiser, and besides our parents are way too close,” You knew this was going to be your excuse for a while. It was better for everyone that you forgave him, Jamie and Taryn spent more time together than you’d spend with anyone and you're just as close with the rest of their family. It wasn’t untrue that it was in fact for the best, but that didn’t mean Matthew’s stupid dimples didn’t persuade you before you could think about anyone else, “Can we stop talking about this?”

Matthew’s eyes didn’t leave you once that night, especially after the way Steph downed tequila shots and convinced you to join her. You deserved to celebrate, you’d accomplished something Matthew knew was your biggest dream because it was the same as his. He was proud of you, not that he’d gotten a chance to show it.

“If you’re going to go pro Y/N, you’ve got to start keeping up,” Brady chirps, watching you stumble over your own feet to walk over to him and Matthew. Matthew had seen this once before, a level of drunkenness where you turned into bambi but that was so long ago he never thought he’d see it again.

“I’ll go pro in beating your ass Brady,” You snap back, shooting daggers over Brady who was already cracking up, “Hi Matthew.”

“Hi,” Matthew’s voice was small, a weird sound considering he was usually the loudest in the room. Brady scoffs, walking away from the two of you before he snaps at how hopelessly in love his brother was. You turn your head in confusion, your mind far too hazy to realize why Brady was so annoyed in the first place, causing Matthew to chuckle, “Want to play? Might be best if we’re on the same team.”

Matthew’s thumb shot over to the beer pong set up on the other side of the room, a mischievous smirk on face, “I mean if it’s for the best.”

Matthew’s arm wrapped around your shoulders holding you close to his chest while you both played pong was definitely not for the best, and it wasn’t helping that stupid crush you had on him. You could feel Steph’s stare from the corner of the room, and you look at her to mouth a don’t at her. It was nice having Matthew on your team, finally a moment where instead of arguing with each other about who’s elbow was clearly over the table - you got to do the same thing to Brady.

“Brady you’re cheating,” You call out, Matthew’s head thrown back in laughter at your seriousness.

“You heard her Brady, elbows over the table,” Matthew breathes out, his body still rumbling with laughter at his little brother’s expense.

“Oh look at you two, you’re just gonna raise some winners one day aren’t you?” Brady chirps back, both happy to see you getting along and annoyed once he realizes that means he was going to get roasted by both of you now. You felt heat rush to your cheeks, tucking your face into Matthew’s arm in hopes no one saw the way you shrunk at that stupid joke.

“We’re winners right now,” Matthew calls out, his last ball landing in the cup and sealing the game for the two of you. Matthew would raise winners with you, it was something he thought about from time to time, but those thoughts were never going to see the light of day, “Alright drunky I think it’s time to get you home.”

“You can stay, I’ll just catch a ride with someone,” You waive Matthew off, who shook his head no at you before you even started speaking.

“One, my dad would kick my ass if he knew I left you,” Matthew starts with, holding up one finger with another on the way, “Two, we’re friends now and I’d like to make sure you don’t die before you see a pro game.”

Matthew had seen you this drunk before, but what he didn’t know was that getting you home would be more difficult than he thought. You started in the direction of your house, but apparently you were a runner and a speedy one at that. Now you were barely two blocks away from Matthew’s parents place and if he could at least get you there he’d be able to call it a night - which wasn’t fucking easy.

“Alright I’ve had enough,” Matthew huffs, jogging to catch up with you and scooping you into his arms. You were hanging over his shoulder, Matthew making his way down the street with the house in his sightline. You could have cared less, laughing your ass off while Matthew walked up the stairs and finally placed you back down on your feet, “Be quiet, go up to my room and get some clothes and go sleep in the guest room.”

You weren’t quiet, not at all and Matthew was amazed not one of his parents came down to see what all the chaos was about. After Matthew had to walk you up the stairs, running back down for some water and hoping you weren’t a disaster by the time he got back - he found you in his bed. You were curled up right in the middle, an old London Knights shirt on your body, Matthew’s favorite. Matthew grabs his comforter, throwing it over your body. He sighs, leaning against his door frame and smiling to himself at how comfortable you looked, flicking off the light and retreating to the guest room.

Matthew hated the guest room. He hated how hard the mattress was and after a few hours of no sleep and tossing and turning - he gave up. Matthew hoped no one else was up, but not to his surprise his mother was already in the kitchen, and judging by the look on her face, she knew who was upstairs.

“Care to explain?” Chantal smirks, raising her eyebrows at her son. Matthew’s face got red, his landing on the back of his neck to cover the blush.

“She fell asleep before I could even get her to the guest room,” Matthew shrugs, hoping his mom wouldn’t push it any further, “I, uh, apologized the other day.”

“Good,” Chantal hums, a knowing look on her face. She didn’t like to push Matthew, her one kid who seemed to be a little rougher around the edges than the others, but that silly feud never sat right with her, “Here, bring her a coffee, I’m sure she needs it.”

Matthew nods, grabbing the mug his mother was holding out and starting to make his way up the stairs. He heard the tell her you made it from his mother and shook his head. He knew what she was thinking, especially with the way Chantal seemed to talk about you. His mother thought you were nothing short of perfect, and Matthew would be a liar if he didn’t think the same thing.

“Did I fall asleep here?” You’d woken up confused, your question only answered by the jerseys hanging on the walls, you were in Matthew’s room. You rub your eyes, the door creaking open way too loudly for how dead you felt.

“Only after you almost fell down the stairs and ran three blocks in the wrong direction,” Matthew chuckles, sitting on the edge of the bed and handing you the mug, “You know you’re fast right?”

“Yeah,” You muse, smirking to yourself and taking a sip of coffee, “I’m sorry I did that to you, and stole your bed - I can go.”

Matthew stopped you, telling to finish your coffee and relax and he’d drive you home after. You fell into a comfortable conversation, something Matthew never thought would happen.

And watching you walk up to your steps in his shirt still wasn’t something he thought he’d see, but it was better than he imagined.

***

“Hey it’s Jamie, can’t get to the phone right now…”

You groan, tossing your phone onto your bed and continuing your pace around the room. It was well after midnight, and your sister had been out all night, and past her curfew. Usually you’d cover for her, definitely taking the prize home for the cool older sister who picks her siblings and their friends up from parties. That’s what had you so worried. Sure, Jamie was a teenager and she snuck in a few little white lies with your parents just like you’d done, but Jamie always told you the truth. She’d check in with you more than her parents, letting you know that she’s going to be out late but she’s safe and if she needed anything she knew who to call. You texted sometime around ten, just checking in since it was Saturday and you were sure she had a more riveting social life than yourself. No answer. Then eleven rolled around and you didn’t hear anything, so naturally you double texted and now it’s twelve thirty and you still haven’t heard anything. You cross your arms, looking at your phone as if you could will an answer into existence. You grab it, dialing a number you weren’t even sure would work.

“Hello?” Matthew’s voice appeared on the other side of the line, clear confusion in his voice. You let out a sigh of relief, hoping Matthew would have the answer you wanted to hear so desperately.

“Is my sister at your house?” You ask, biting your lip and throwing on a pair of sweats so you could pick her up and murder her for scaring you like that. You were sure it was innocent, Jamie slept over at Taryn’s all the time, staying up way too late watching movies or when Jamie would hide going to a party from your much stricter parents.

Matthew tells you to give him a minute, and you can hear him walking through the house. By the time you heard a door open and a small fuck under his breath, your stomach dropped, “She was supposed to be home by midnight.”

“Alright, thanks anyways,” You sigh, “Do you know where they might have gone? It’s just, Jamie hasn’t answered me in hours and she usually does even if she’s out past curfew and I’m just-”

“I’ll be at your house in ten,” Matthew says, his keys alright in his hand and his foot halfway out the door. He was more mad than worried, sure his sister was out a party past curfew. Matthew was her biggest brother, and he was far more protective over her than Brady ever could be. He hated when she did this, and Matthew was pissed. You waited on your steps, Matthew car coming into view while you sprung up and practically sprinted into his car.

“You look mad,” You observe, as if it wasn’t completely obvious. You knew why, trying countless times to remind Taryn that her brother loves her and that’s why he’s like that. You thought he could go a little easier on her, but you wouldn’t dare get in the middle of that.

“I am mad,” Matthew grits out, knuckles white on his steering wheel while he drives slowly down the street. You just drove, in hopes you’d find what was obviously a house party and hopes your sisters were inside. You squint, hoping your eyes weren’t fooling you.

“Wait, pull over I think I see my neighbor,” You yell, Matthew’s foot flying on the break and you hop out. You were right, the bright orange tuft of hair you saw was like a miracle, “Hey Henry have you seen my sister?”

“Oh yeah I think she’s still inside,” Henry points to the house behind him, music blasting and a party in full swing, “I think she’s with Taryn.”

Matthew hops out of the car, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the house with him. Matthew’s fingers were laced with yours with every step he took, weaving through the crowd in hopes you’d see them. It took three bedrooms and a laundry room until you finally saw Taryn standing in the doorway. Her eyes went wide, and you pushed past them both to see Jamie with her head in the toilet. She was fine, well she was definitely in deep shit, but it wasn’t the worst thing to stumble upon. You throw her hair up, your attention moving to Matthew yelling at his sister in the hallway.

“Why didn’t you call someone,” Matthew yells, trying so damn hard to not completely snap on his baby sister. Taryn yells that her phone had died and then Jamie got sick and she didn’t know what to do. Of course they didn’t. You were probably more sympathetic, and you knew just how pissed off Matthew could get. You get up, pushing Taryn back into the bathroom and telling her to watch your sister.

“Calm down before you talk to her, please,” You plead, grabbing Matthew’s shoulders, “Besides, I sort of need some help right now.”

There it was. The very moment Matthew realized all along you could’ve been helping him. Your hands were wrapped around his biceps, a finger gently rubbing the skin right under the sleeve of his shirt. Every bit of anger disappeared from his body, a calm feeling replacing it. He knew you were right, and he’d be thankful for it later. Matthew knew he had to do the right thing by you, and he nodded, willing to follow any directions you gave him.

Matthew carried Jamie out of the house, getting both of your sisters in the car and finally heading back to your house. You knew he was still pissed off, a present frown on his face so you just took the chance. Just like he’d done before for you, you grabbed one of his hands from his steering wheel, lacing your fingers together. You caught the smile on his face, your thumb rubbing over his hand while his shoulders seemed to just relax. Once

Matthew finally helped you get Jamie inside, a night of laying on her floor to make sure she was okay ahead of you stood in the doorway with Matthew across from you.

“Thank you, I know we’re working on this friendship thing but you really didn’t have to do that,” You were eternally grateful, wrapping your arms around Matthew’s waist and tucking your head into his chest.

“You’d do the same thing for Taryn,” Matthew hums, knowing full well he definitely owed you for being Taryn’s replacement sibling with him and Brady in Canada for most of the year, “Get some rest okay?”

“Wait,” You stop Matthew, grabbing his hand one more time, “Don’t kill your sister, please she’s just a kid-”

“You’re way too easy on them,” Matthew chuckles, shaking his head at you. He knew Taryn was probably scared, and after he calmed a bit he understood where you were coming from. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to tell her that if she ever pulls that shit again - he was going to rat her out to their parents.

And when Matthew finally got back in the car, he could see his sister’s grin in the backseat, “Don’t say it.”

She held your hand, are you sure you’re not going to malfunction now?

***

Maybe you were spiraling.

You’d been waiting for this moment your entire life, now you had a few more weeks until camp started and you were afraid. You knew you were good enough, you had to be. But what if you weren’t? You could feel the anxiety settling in, a feeling you hadn’t felt since Matthew told you soccer wasn’t a real sport in fourth grace. It’d been eating at you for weeks, deteriorating any confidence you had left in yourself. So you started pushing yourself even harder. The harder you worked the less like you were to fuck it all up. Your muscles were sore, your body was tired and it was just all becoming too much.

And Matthew noticed.

You were pushing yourself too hard, even the time you were supposed to relax with your families before your seasons started was being spent training. He understood it, the term first round exit lived rent free in his head every single time his skate hit the ice over the summer, but that didn’t make it okay. You looked tired, sluggish while you moved because you were running twice a day and training in between. And he was pissed everyone seemed to be fine with it. You should start working harder then Matthew. If it bothers you so much maybe you could join her. It wasn’t that he was jealous of your work ethic, he was worried. Matthew’s eyes followed you as you ran past his house again. The third time in one day, he’d finally decided he had enough.

Matthew took the walk to your house, charming the pants off your mother for her to tell him you were upstairs because you just got back in. He knocks twice, hearing a come in from the other side.

“What are you doing here?” You question, rolling one of your ankles that just seemed to be getting more swollen every time you started to practice. Matthew noticed it, your hands freezing one you caught his gaze.

“You’re overworking yourself,” Matthew stands his ground, he knew you could have told him to fuck off because no one hates advice they didn’t ask for quite like him, “Don’t tell me I’m wrong.”

“That’s rich coming from the kid who’s played with more broken bones than anyone I know,” You remind him of a few mistakes Matthew’s made playing through injuries he really shouldn’t, “I’m not fucking frail.”

“That’s not what this is about,” Matthew scoffs, it never once crossed his mind that he thought he was tough enough to play through injuries but you weren’t, “It’s about taking a break so you don’t get hurt.”

“I’m fine,” You huff, getting up and trying your best to hide the pain in your ankle when you stood on it. You fell forward, Matthew catching you in his arms and putting you back down the edge of your bed.

“Tell me what’s wrong?” Matthew asks with soft eyes, he bent down to take your ankle in his hand and inspect it the best he could. It was swelling, probably from the amount of pressure you’d been putting on your body with no breaks.

“What if I never score a goal?” You whisper, teary eyes finally meeting Matthew’s. His brows shot up, alarmed at how one of the best athletes he’s ever seen could feel the same way he felt right before his first NHL game. Matthew sits down next to you, hand on your thigh while you let out a cry, “What if I’m just a bust? Like I get there and nothing works and I suck.”

“You’ll score eventually,” Matthew scoffs, understanding how ridiculous you sounded but just how you felt at the same time, “Everyone does.”

“You scored like four games into your fucking career Matt,” You remind him, Matthew smiling a bit that you knew that to begin with. It would have been impossible not to know, or pretend like you didn’t keep a few tabs on his career. Matthew Tkachuk was a legend in the making, and whether or not you could feel butterflies in your stomach every time he dropped the gloves was a secret you’d take to the grave.

“I got suspended my first season too,” Matthew jokes, a teary eyed laugh escaping your lips, “I’d put down money you score in your first game.”

“Well good thing you have money to lose,” You sigh dramatically, the fear of fucking up still on your mind.

“You’ll find your groove, all legends do,” Matthew promises, throwing his arm around your shoulders. You snuggled into his side, a realization that he was becoming a comforting presence in your life with each passing day, “And if you don’t, you can always hide out in Canada with me.”

“Matty!” The same silly nickname Matthew introduced himself to you on your very first day of kindergarten slipped through your lips without realizing it. Matthew hadn’t been called that in ages, but it was welcome from you. You push his chest, “That’s not making me feel any better.”

“What if I told you the only reason I was so mean to you was because I was intimidated by how talented you were?” Matthew confesses, scratching your head with his fingers, “If I win a cup one day I think I owe you one.”

Matthew didn’t mention that in his wildest fantasies of raising that cup over his head, you were there. He’d owe you one and he hoped it was because you were there for him until he got there. Matthew saw it the same way every time, you’d tell him to go see his parents first but he’d fly right past them to get to you - the person who accidentally pushed him to be his best. He had plenty of daydreams about you winning too, remembering times you used to brag you’d go to the Olympics one day, and he hoped you were right. He wanted to see you succeed, more than anything, and he thought it would work.

“Legally you have to let me drink out of it,” You muse, shutting your eyes and letting yourself just rest against Matthew.

“It has to be Bud Light,” Matthew teases while watching you fake a gag. You grab his outstretched hand, letting him pull you up. His hands rested on the side of your face, eyes flickering to your lips for just a second. He wanted to kiss you, but he knew he had to wait. Wait for you to be ready. Wait for you to settle down. Or even just wait until he thought he had a real shot at forever.

Forever with you.

***

Matthew was kind of pissed off.

The press didn’t bother him, none of that mattered and at the end of the day Matthew was able to sleep at night knowing he was a good teammate and a decent person most of the time. This one got him though, some writer criticizing the A on his jersey, and how someone who plays like he does didn’t deserve a letter.

A letter he earned.

You could tell something was off, the way Matthew had been running alongside you was aggressive to say the least. He insisted he came with you, something about forcing you to take breaks. He was being your friend, even though your sisters seemed to disagree. Taryn’s words were replaying in your head, Matt doesn’t even care if I get hurt. That didn’t mean anything, those two had no idea what love was and Matthew caring about you a little bit didn’t mean he loved you. Besides, the way he was acting right now told a completely different story.

“Are you mad at me?” You finally slow down, sitting on a rock that was next to the hiking trail you were on.

“No?” Matthew stops dead in his tracks, his heart sinking to the pit of his stomach that he fucked this up too, “I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”

“No, tell me what’s wrong,” You push, crossing your arms and narrowing your eyes at Matthew. You could tell he was pressed about something, his neck covered in a red flush the same way it used to.

“Some stupid article about my letter, don’t worry about it,” Matthew grits, repeating his words again. His defense was up, even after you confessed to him that you were scared of not being enough.

“Get the fuck out of here with the tough guy act Matthew,” You challenge him, poking him right in the chest, “If we’re going to be friends you need to cut that shit out.”

“You really want to hear it?” Matthew barks back, fully yelling at you, “I’m tired of people thinking I don’t deserve things because I threw a few bad hits. Do you know how it feels to have everyone think you’re shitty? No you don’t, because you’re so fucking perfect that my own parents like you more than me.”

You stood there, silent while you tried to figure out how to tell him that simply wasn’t true. His entire body was shaking, the anger coursing through his veins like you’d seen many times before that. Matthew looked like he did the first time you hit a homerun in gym class, except this time it was because that same pressure never got released. You couldn’t come close to understanding the way he probably felt. You didn’t have the comparables in your own family, the constant reminders of Brady’s points tally compared to his, let alone the career his father had.

“Matty,” You whisper, grabbing his hand and running your fingers over the scars on his knuckles, “Why is this bothering you so much?”

You were sure this wasn’t the first time someone’s said he was a pest, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the last. Matthew sighed, the better part of his brain screaming at him to stop before he lost you too.

“I’ve felt like this forever,” Matthew whispers, eyes fixated on your hand in his, “From the moment I started getting bigger, there’s just been this pressure to play a certain way and act a certain way. I was a fucking kid, and while all of my friends got to go wherever they wanted all I ever did was practice. Then I finally get to where I wanted and I’m still getting shit on.”

“Except no one thinks you don’t deserve to be where you are,” You whisper, quiet words as if you were going to startle him, “And I know it doesn’t make up for things people say, but the people who love you think you deserve it.”

Matthew nods, pulling you into his arms and holding you close. Your arms wrapped around his waist, his words mumbled against your forehead, “I needed that.”

“I know,” You nod, smiling wide up at him, “And we need to practice more because you’re too slow, soooo catch me if you can!”

You slipped out of his arms, running away with a giggle and a smile. Matthew stopped for a second, his Neanderthal brain checking out your ass while you jogged away and his more logical one trying to process what just happened.

But what mattered most was that whatever you did worked and that meant something to Matthew.

***

Just admit you think he’s hot.

You wanted to kill your sister for making this weekend harder than it had to be. You were doing a good job at just friends with Matthew until Jamie was curled up in your bed while you packed for a lake trip with your friends. She pushed it for hours, rambling on about Matthew is actually your type and Taryn swears he’d be a good boyfriend if someone just understood him. The problem was, you were starting to see her point. Matthew had a glow up a few years ago, like one summer he’d gotten home and you were infatuated with him. It used to annoy you, because he’d been such an ass to you that you hated how attractive he was. Then things changed, and now looking at him was just frustrating you. You were terrified about the way he made you feel, like everything would be okay with one look of those blue eyes and a smirk. You felt like he had your back, a vast change from how you used to feel and it was just getting hard to hide it anymore.

Especially when Matthew looked like he did right now. He was holding himself up on the dock, shoulders broad and glistening in the moonlight above you. All your friends were inside, moving their party away from the water as the night lingered on. You wanted to run your fingers through his wet curls, the temptation was almost too much.

“I’ll be in Chicago a few times you know,” Matthew hums, enjoying the time alone he was getting with you. Anytime without Brady teasing him about what the Tkachuk’s had been referring to as the hand holding incident. He didn’t want them to think he didn’t want you, because he did, but he just needed to move at his own pace.

“You want to come see me play?” You ask, leaning back on the palms of your hands. You were surprised by the kind of man Matthew had become, it was a completely different person that he used to be. He cared so much about his loved ones, and you were starting to feel like maybe you had a place there.

“Actually thinking you could come see me play,” Matthew teases, sarcasm dripping from his words. You lifted your foot up, kicking some of the water below you to splash him, but he’d caught your ankle before you could. He stopped for a moment, running a thumb over your skin, “This looks better.”

“Don’t make you admit you were right,” You whine, Matthew swiftly pulling you into the water with him. You yelp, the water way too cold for any normal person, “It’s freezing.”

“C’mere then,” Matthew grabs your waist, pulling your body against his. His hands were splayed across your back, heat radiating off of them. One of your hands was on his shoulder, your other on his chest. You could feel his heart beating quickly, his eyes locked on yours, “Middle school Matthew would be so jealous of me right now.”

“Why’s that?” You hum, running your fingers along Matthew to play connect the dots with the beauty marks on his skin.

“Because he had the biggest crush on you,” Matthew confesses, his grip on you a little tighter, as if he was afraid you’d slip right through his fingers again, “But he was too thick headed to do anything about it.”

“What about grown up Matthew?” You ask, biting your lip. Matthew was practically holding you both up in the water, pressed so close together you could hear the hitch in his breath at your question, “Is he too thick headed to do something too?”

You wrapped your legs around Matthew’s waist, pressing your lips to his and tugging on the curls at the base of his neck. He pushed you up against the dock, helping you back up and pulling himself up next to you. You grabbed the back of his neck, latching your lips back on his. His hand was on your back, fingers toying with the back of your bathing suit, “Think we can get upstairs without anyone noticing?”

Matthew was cool most of the time. He never faltered under the pressure from his career, most of the time, and he definitely didn’t fold when it came to a pretty girl. You had him in the palm of your hand, every part of his brain malfunctioning in response to your words. You bit your lip, wondering if you’d read this entire situation. Matthew rubs a thumb along your lip, “When are you going to realize I’d do whatever you asked me to?”

The two of you snuck up the stairs, giggles and stolen kisses left in your wake. You open the door, Matthew’s hands still toying your bathing suit top, “Just take it off already Matty.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” Matthew breathes, his lips pressed against your neck while the garment falls to the floor, “So fucking beautiful.”

You back hit the mattress, Matthew’s hands running up your body slowly. Slow wasn’t in Matthew’s vocabulary, but he was taking his time just in case he never got this opportunity again. His fingers hooked under your bathing suit bottoms, sliding the wet fabric down your legs. You looked so beautiful, spread out just for Matthew like he’d dreamed about numerous times. His lips moved down to your breasts, teeth grazing against your skin while his tongue swirled against your nipple. You let out a breathy moan, Matthew’s ego boosting from the sound. You plucked at his curls while his mouth moved down to where you were craving him most, a gentle kiss to your clit, “Matty, please.”

“I didn’t peg you for the type to beg,” Matthew hums, pressing feather light kisses around your core. He stopped, gripping your thighs and looking up at you, “You sure about this?”

“Yes, please,” You whine, pussy dripping from Matthew’s hot breath fanning over it. Matthew chuckles darkly, fingers digging into your thighs when he flicked his tongue over your clit. You moan, completely unbothered by the blaring music a floor below you. Matthew didn’t seem to be bothered either, his tongue teasing your entrance while his nose rubbed against your clit, living for the way you were whimpering above him, “Matty-”

“Close baby?” Matthew groans, slipping a finger inside of you and curling it. You back arched, his name falling through your lips was enough to answer his question. Your legs shook, pleasure washing over your body from Matthew and all of it just felt so right. Matthew’s lips were latched to your skin until he finally met your eyes again. He smiles softly, nudging his nose with yours while you caught your breath, “So good for me.”

“Should’ve known you were that good with your mouth with the way you run it,” You tease smiling against his lips.

“Not with you, not anymore,” Matthew promises, soft blue eyes looking into yours, he meant it. He didn’t know how else to make it clearer, he wanted you. You kissed him slowly, hands trailing down his abs and stopping where his shorts hit his waist. Matthew kicks off his swim trunks, cock springing free. You grab the back of his neck, pulling your lips to his and rolling over top of him and straddling his waist. It was criminal how good you looked on top of him, “Gonna ride me babe?”

You nod, lining his dick up your core and lowering yourself on top of him. You let out a whine, Matthew’s smug smile on full display once he realized it was because of how big he was, “We don’t have to if my dick’s too big.”

“Oh shut up,” You roll your hips, watching the way Matthew’s head fell back, smirking because he really thought he had control here. Matthew’s hands gripped your waist, moving your hips faster. His finger flicked over your clit, causing you to lunge forward on top of him. Matthew flipped you over, wrapping a leg around his waist so he could hit your g-spot. Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails leaving scratches Matthew was going to wear pride later. You were seeing stars, noises leaving your throat you’d never even heard yourself make, “Fuck, Matty, I’m gonna cum again.”

“Look at me,” Matthew grabs your chin, pressing his forehead against yours and watching while your eyes roll back with pleasure. Your pussy clenched around him, his own cum spilling into you from the sensation, a loud groan following. Matthew pressed a kiss to your forehead, his cock still buried inside of you, “I wasn’t bullshitting you, I mean every word Y/N.”

“Matthew,” You whisper, running a finger along his back, “The distance…”

You didn’t mention everything, the way that if this was real it meant it would end up ripping you both apart. You were set to live in a different city, Matthew all the way in another country. The way your dreams included a spot on the U.S. National team, and the idea that wanting to be with Matthew would hold you back was terrifying. The way his dreams probably meant staying in Calgary forever, a C on his jersey and a cup over his head. It wasn’t going to be easy, you weren’t ever going to be the doting girlfriend he probably needed. There would be years of travel schedules and games that overlapped, and a part of you thought that maybe Matthew wouldn’t be able to do it. You’d get a year in and he’d find someone who would be there more and finally you’d end it.

“We can make it work, baby I want you, I always have and I probably always will,” Matthew starts, baring his soul to another person for the first time in his goddamn life, “I want to support your dreams and have you be there for mine. I’m all in here, I don’t know how else to tell you.”

“Can I have some time?” You plead, holding onto Matthew’s shoulders because you knew he could leave and tell you to never speak to him again. Matthew sighs, understanding the way you were shitting yourself about starting your own professional career, remembering the way rookie Matthew would have died before he considered settling down that first year, “Please don’t leave me-”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Matthew promises, rolling over and letting your rest on his chest, “I’ll wait for you.”

You smile, snuggling closer to him. Matthew didn’t sleep a minute that night, running every single scenario that could possibly happen with the two of you. Matthew was sure it would work out, it had to, because if it didn’t he wasn’t sure he’d be able to recover.

So now all he could was wait.

***

You know this is creepy right?

Matthew stares at Sam, punching his teammate in the arm lightly and telling him to shut up. He had a night off in Chicago, and after four straight hours of staring at your contact in his phone, Matthew finally just bought the tickets. He’d been good at keeping his distance, you needed space and he respected you enough to try and give it to you. He wasn’t doing so hot, Matthew consuming more soccer games than hockey games at this point. It started with your first game, because how was he supposed to just pretend like it wasn’t happening? You scored too, and it took everything in his power not to call you to tell you that not only was he right, he was insanely proud of you.

And he’d been hearing it from everyone. Your sister thought it was bullshit, Taryn and Jamie almost had Matthew on a flight to Chicago ready to show up like a terrible Lifetime movie. Brady thought it was hilarious the way Matthew was simping like this for one girl. Now, his teammates were on him, wondering why on Earth their friend who historically ran through women faster than he did mouthguards could be this hung up on someone he had a crush on in middle school.

“What number is she?” Sam asks, sipping the beer he forced Matthew to buy after making him go along with this.

“Nineteen,” Matthew smiles, pointing down at you on the field. You looked so happy, warming up with one of your teammates and a bright smile on your face. It seemed like a good fit, your team and your new city, and it made Matthew’s heart grow four sizes.

“Did she choose your number?” Sam jokes and Matthew mumbles something under his breath, “What?”

“It was her number first,” Matthew admits, not wanting to ever confess to another soul that you crossed his mind when he kept that camp number. Sam howled next to him, leaning over his seat and cracking up at his teammate.

You looked out in the crowd about halfway through the game, rubbing your eyes to make sure you weren’t seeing things. That tuft of curls was hard to miss, not to mention you knew just how big Matthew was. He was far too into the game to realize you caught him, up in arms about a call against your team that was valid but he’d argue it wasn’t. You asked for space, and it was getting harder to stick to your guns. Especially when he was making it so clear that he wanted this.

And whether or not you went to his game the next night, was a secret you’d take to the grave.

***

You were so close you could have tasted it.

While the final seconds of your season came to a close, all you could do was hold your head in your hands and hope no one caught the tears. A semi-final loss was devastating, but a semi-final loss where there wasn’t anything you could have done differently was even worse. Every athlete had off nights, a point Keith pushed right before you left to start your season, and he was right. Unfortunately, that was this game. Your biggest fear had come true and there was nothing you could do about it now. The game was over and you weren’t moving on.

And Matthew watched it.

Matthew promised you space, and he swore he’d give you the time you needed to settle down. But, this was something he couldn’t ignore. He could tell you were off, your entire rookie season was almost perfect and watching the way you folded during this game was gut wrenching. Matthew knew better than anyone, losing sucked. So he took the chance, grabbing his phone and shooting you a text he’d been waiting to send.

Doors open in Calgary.

and I’m so fucking proud of you.

It was the very last text you saw before you went to bed that night, tossing and turning for a few hours thinking about that loss. You couldn’t stop, every bone in your body was aching and you didn’t know what to do. So you bought a flight, packed your shit and was walking down the hallway to Matthew’s apartment without a second thought. You’d left him on read, calling Brady in the middle of the night and asking for his address, who gave it to you reluctantly with a reminder that if you needed to see him this badly you should rethink the needing time thing.

Matthew let out a groan when he had a bang at his door at three in the morning. Noah definitely was trying to walk into the wrong apartment again, and Matthew was grouchy when he whipped his door open. Except it wasn’t Noah after he’d had too many. It was you, teary eyed with your shit in a suitcase and a broken heart.

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” You admit, whispering something you never thought you’d say to anyone, “I just didn’t do enough-”

Matthew didn’t say a word, pulling you into a bone crushing hug and holding you as tightly as he could. You didn’t need to hear it from him, about how things were out of your control and you did your best. You didn’t want that right now, you wanted him, “Baby…”

“Everything hurts,” You whimper, finally just letting it all out. You were bruised and battered from the season, the physical pain alone was enough to upset you, let alone the loss you just took. Matthew carded his fingers through your hair, letting you soak his bare chest with your tears because he wouldn’t have it any other way. You came back to him. You came back to him when things got too tough because you trusted him to bring you some peace, and he was happy about it.

You passed out sometime after that, your tears finally running dry and the exchaustion taking over your body. Matthew woke up early the next day, grateful for the optional morning skate so he could stay with you for just a little bit longer. The sun was just starting to peek through the curtains in his room, a calm snowy morning in Calgary so the city was just a bit quieter. 

Matthew settled on breakfast, working away in his kitchen with the only thing he knew how to make. Tell her you made it, his mom’s words from just a few months prior in his head while he cooked. You padded out his bedroom, one of Matthew’s god awful beer shirts hanging from your frame while you wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed a kiss into his back, “It’s cold here.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Matthew hums, internally pumping his fist when he felt your lips form a smile against his skin. You turned your head, pressing your cheek against his against and letting out a laugh, “What’s so funny?”

“You framed my jersey?” You ask, your eye catching a jersey that was way too familiar. It was hung up beside Matthew’s from his first all star game, both number nineteens staring back at you.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re my favorite player,” Matthew hums, a blush covering his cheeks, “I’m so proud of you.”

“You keep saying that,” Matthew finally turns around, pressing a quick peck to your lips.

“I’ll keep saying it long after we both retire,” Matthew speaks, words clear and sure because he’s had plenty of time to practice this one, “I’ll say it when you win a World Cup gold, I’ll say it when we have kids, I’ll say when you play at the Olympics. I’m going to say it over and over again.”

“But…” You trail off, all of those same demons you’d been fighting when it came to your whatever this was with Matthew, “What I’m not around enough for you?”

Matthew knew what you were thinking about, he’d thought about it plenty too. There were countless sleepless nights where all he did was wonder if you’d find someone in Chicago who could support you better than he could. He’d do his best, he swore he would, but in order for you to be happy, your passion came first. There was always going to be times when he couldn’t be there and it killed him.

“You’re more than enough,” Matthew promises, his lips ghosting over yours, “I want you to seize every opportunity in the world, I just want to be there to tell you that I love you and use the goat emoji on Instagram when you do.”

You let out a laugh, Matthew’s smile wide enough to see his dimples you loved so much, “I think I want to stay a little while.”

“I think you should,” Matthew agrees, capturing your lips in his, “Besides I’m playing tonight and I think I need to show off now.”

“You’re a cocky asshole.”

“But now I’m your cocky asshole.”

***

One year Later

You had a good reason to be late.

You swore Matthew couldn’t possibly be mad at you for this one. You’d missed your flight to Calgary, a few days post a second loss in the semi finals that you’d been taking much better this time around. Mainly because Matthew wasn’t there, but his stupid smile and words of encouragement where there on facetime hours later. That wasn’t the reason you were late, the reason you were late was because you’d received the most insane news of your life and it was an important phone or that flight. You’d caught the next one, legs shaking not to just call him and share the news, but you needed to tell him in person.

You’d finally gotten by the doors to the locker room entrance, out of breath from spriting there from your cab. There was Matthew, tapping his phone and staring at the clock on his phone with furrowed eyebrows. He was still in his suit, tie pulled a little looser, a nervous habit you realized he had some time ago, “Matty-”

“Don’t call me that just because you know you’re late,” Matthew huffs, already ready for the pout that would have followed so he’d forget all about the fact that you promised you’d make it on time. He holds his hand out, waiting for the handshake he made up in the car on the way to the first game you went to after he finally locked it down. You laugh, slapping your hand against his and letting him pull you closer for a kiss.

“They want me on the National Team,” You mumble against his lips, the words spilling out of your mouth when you pull away with an excited smile. Matthew stood there stunned, while you shuffled your feet in the little dance you did when you were really happy. He grabs your cheeks, pressing kisses to your lips again and again.

“We’re celebrating after this, holy shit,” Matthew cheers, still stunned by your news, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, now go score a few goals so we have even more to celebrate,” You kiss him one more time, pushing him before the door before he was late.

“Anything I do seems unimportant now!” Matthew calls out, a light laugh to his voice as he watched you walk away to go sit in the stands.

And that’s how Matthew thought it should be.

[elysianslove]

secret relationship; tsukishima kei, tanaka ryūnosuke, yamamoto taketora 

requested by anon(s); their respective teams finding out about their relationships 

pairings; tsukishima kei x reader, tanaka ryūnosuke x fem!reader, yamamoto taketora x fem karasuno manager!reader

genre; fluff

warnings; none! (maybe a few curse words)

note; i’m so sorry tsukki’s so much longer than the other two oh my

tsukishima kei 

━━  in your defense, neither of you had heard the blaring alarm, and supposedly, no one else in his home had either. after having unintentionally lost track of time with your boyfriend the night prior that it had gotten a little too late for you to head home safely, you’d agreed to kei’s suggestion to spend the night, and fell asleep in his arms. that wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary. you couldn’t count on ten fingers the nights you’d spent at his home, waking up with your limbs tangled with his, despite the fact that he insisted cuddling was his least favorite thing to do. missing the alarm is what’s unusual. kei’s not the heaviest of sleepers, evident in the way he nearly tramples you every night, suffocating you to him and restricting your movements. the fact that he hadn’t heard it, and had left to ring annoyingly loud until it gave up was confusing enough. 

this wouldn’t pose as much of an issue if it weren’t for your situation. on the contrary, really; you loved nothing more than waking up at the hour you desire, kei still sound asleep by you. he always looked a lot calmer, a lot less tense, his mind a little quieter. his arms were caging you in, giving you enough freedom to tilt your head back and admire him, as his chest rose and fell gently, as his eyes fluttered lightly with the remnants of a dream. in the quiet of his room, you wondered what those golden irises could see. 

but of course, a sleepy, fuzzy, lovesick brain wasn’t a luxury for long, and the blurriness began to slip away, just as reality began catching up. your mind began to process the time that the clock that hung opposite you read (too late in the afternoon), then the day of the week (sunday, practice day), then, the cherry on top of the cake — the sound of heavy footsteps, too many footsteps, loud, familiar voices. and finally, the fact that you weren’t supposed to be where you were: in kei’s bed. 

you’d encountered his — friends on countless occasions, just never as his significant other. at first, it had left you slightly insecure, wondering if kei was somehow ashamed of you, embarrassed to be tied to you. eventually, however, you’d figured that it hadn’t been shame or embarrassment. he’s just a private person, and if anything, it’s possessiveness: the desire to keep you and all that you are to himself. not that he’d ever have to share once you were exclusive to his teammates, but it’s more that he also wants the idea and thought of you secret. he wants to luxury of calling you his to be private, just something he can enjoy. and maybe you liked the thrill of it too, seeing as you’d agreed, for the time being. you liked the rushed kisses in fear of getting caught, and the secret glances he’d offer you during school hours, and the way he held your hand beneath the table for no one but you to know about. you liked it, and you respected his wishes. 

when the footsteps drew closer, you realized just how screwed you are, and it would mean a lot worse for you to be caught slipping away through the window than to be caught in bed, so you lean up, hugging yourself tighter to him, and bring your lips by kei’s ear. shaking him slightly, you whisper, “baby, wake up. the boys are here.” 

kei rustles around, blinking slightly, before huffing and wrapping his arms tighter around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, mumbling incoherently. 

you stifle a laugh at his clingy reaction, wishing that this was somehow being recorded. with laughter behind your tone, you repeat your words, shaking him harsher. “kei,” you drawl, whining. “kei, we’re gonna get caught.” 

he only mumbles again, breath hot on your neck. 

“tsukki! tsukki!” 

shit, nishinoya and tanaka were also here?

“kei, baby, you are going to be mortified when you wake up,” you warn, but nonetheless, you continue to hold him to you, bringing a hand up to his hair and sighing. “don’t kick me for trying to warn you.” 

the door bursts open, followed by tanaka’s sing-song voice calling out for your boyfriend. he leads the way into the bedroom, head high and eyes closed, as him and three of kei’s teammates march in. he’s oblivious to your head peeking out beneath the crook of kei’s neck, until his eyes open, his hands faltering on his hips as he finally registers your face. 

you grin up at him, fingers waving at him in greeting. “hey,” you call out cheekily. 

tanaka freezes, head cocking to the side as he’s pushed away while the other three file in. as soon as nishinoya notices you, he clamps his hand over his mouth, his mouth wide with laughter and eyes lost in shock. yamaguchi’s face is tinted red, glance frozen at you, while sugawara, ever the sadist, laughs freely and loudly. 

“so this is why he’s late?” tanaka yells in a hushed tone. 

sugawara, still laughing, grabs his phone from his jacket’s pocket, switching to the camera app quickly and lifting it up to snap a photo. you throw up a peace sign. 

“tsukki, you ass!” nishinoya shouts, leaping quickly onto the bed, forcing you and kei to shift suddenly. “get up, get up, get the fuck up!”

the boy in your arms groans, his eyes still shut tightly as he finally loosens his hold on you, rolling onto his back. a hand is lifted up to his face as he rubs away the sleep in his eyes, while nishinoya positions himself to stand directly above him, feet on either side of his hips as he leans down, peering straight at his face. 

kei’s eyes finally open, hand falling to his side in search of yours as it always does, before he looks up, and spots nishinoya sporting the cheekiest of expressions. he sighs in preparation of the teasing to come, and exhales sharply. 

“shit.”

sugawara is yet to stop laughing. 

tanaka ryūnosuke

━━  “ryu, you’re late to practice.” 

the boy in question shushes you quietly, hugging you tighter to him as he whispers out, “five more minutes,” lips brushing against the nape of your neck, down to your shoulder blades. your back is pressed to his bare chest, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist. you rest a hand on that arm, stroking it gently as you try to wake him up. 

with how the boys had been progressing with volleyball, practice hours had increased, and therefore quality time with ryu had decreased. there was a little voice in the back of your head egging him on, urging you to cuddle back into him and let him nuzzle into you more, the part of you that missed him, missed all of him. there was a more logical side of you that knew better, that acknowledged all the work and effort he’d put to get where he is today, and that didn’t want him to miss out any opportunity to grow, or to put all that effort to waste. so you sigh, gripping at his forearm tightly as you try to get away. 

“come on, babe,” you whine, attempting desperately to try and get away from him. 

“woah, ryu, you got a girl with you or something?”

you freeze. ryu freezes. the world stops. 

that had definitely been nishinoya’s voice, there was no doubt about that. and it isn’t like the both of you had kept your relationship a secret from your mutual friends deliberately. it had just never came up in conversation. maybe they were just blind, honestly. there had been no hiding it: you held hands, you hugged him tight after every win, he walked you home after evening practice after school, you hung out during school all the time. so really, it isn’t your fault that no one put two and two together. 

you’d just hoped it wouldn’t be in such a comprising situation. you don’t even have pants on.

“holy shit, you do— what the fuck!” your boyfriend’s teammates scream is piercing, and eardrum shattering. you wince at the sound, fingers tightening around ryu’s arm. once nishinoya processes what he’s seen, and who he’s seen, he storms outside of the bedroom, leaving the door ajar behind him, allowing you to listen in on his yells.

somehow, ryu’s still sleeping. 

“you guys are not going to believe what i just saw,” you hear nishinoya calling out and — holy shit, was the whole team here? was he really that late to practice? 

you manage to break free of ryu’s unrelenting grasp just as the footsteps group by your boyfriend’s bedroom door. they all walk in as you try and fix your bed hair, smiling weakly as one by one, they fill up the room. raising a hand, you sheepishly smile and wave, calling out a low, “morning everyone.” 

looking to your left, you find ryu still sleeping. with the way hinata’s bouncing over to where the two of you lay, you doubt it’ll be for long. secret was meant to be outed at some point, wasn’t it? 

yamamoto taketora 

━━  as you and your team finally arrive at your destination, nekoma high, the bus comes to a stop, parking off to the side. immediately, the boys are jumping from their seats, eager to stretch their limbs and greet their long distance friends. you, kiyoko and yachi take your time in comparison to them, gathering all your things, stretching yourselves out. yachi and kiyoko are first to leave between the three of you, working on keeping your teammates in check and making sure none drift off, while you stay behind, checking in on the bus to make sure nobody left anything behind (which you’re glad you always do, because both hinata and kageyama had forgotten their phones). stepping off the bus, you raise your arms up in a stretch, bones cracking satisfyingly. you squint up at the sun as you sigh, hand coming up to shield yourself from it. 

“shōyō, kags!” you call out, walking up to the group of boys huddled around each other, both nekoma and karasuno. “forget anything?” you place their phones in either hand, giving them playfully disapproving looks as they shamefully take it from you, red dusting their cheeks and a low sorry spilling from their lips. your expression twists into a cheerful one, and you wave them off. 

as the herd of people begins to move, you plan on following, until you hear your name yelled out loudly, in a very distinct, familiar voice. excitement overtaking you, you turn the other way, dropping your bag to the ground and jumping into the awaiting of your arms of your long distance boyfriend. 

“tora baby, i missed you!” you squeal, arms wrapping tight around his neck and legs around his waist, ankles hooked as he rocks you from side to side. he hugs you with just as much earnest, burying his face in your neck gratefully. 

he hums by your ear, pressing a wet kiss to your neck as he says, “missed you more. more than you could ever imagine.” 

you chuckle lightly to yourself, lifting your head up and leaning back to glance at him. “sap,” you tease, tilting your head closer. 

“hey, you were the one that jumped into my arms,” he argues. 

you quirk an eyebrow. “you were the one that yelled out my name and ran at me,” you retort. “like we’re in some sort of rom-com.” you’re rolling your eyes, but your heart’s beating unsteadily at the way he presses a chaste kiss to your lips. unwilling to continue your banter, having missed him, and missed kissing him too much to do so, you lift a hand to the nape of his neck and push his lips closer to yours, finally kissing him properly. 

you’re not able to enjoy it for long, feeling a hand grab at the collar of your jacket on the back of your neck. it pulls at you until you break from the kiss, until you’re forced out of your boyfriend’s arms, and stumbling onto the ground back on your feet. 

“have some decorum, manager,” daichi teases, and you roll your eyes, reaching out again for taketora. 

he takes you into his arms easily, letting you rest your head on his chest, and wrapping your arms around his waist. “he’s just jealous that we’re in love,” he jokes, and you huff out a laugh, allowing him to steer you away from the small crowd, and towards the gym, leaving your boys and his teammates behind. 

“am i the only one that’s like, shocked?” ennoshita breaks the silence. 

“really? i’m more heartbroken,” nishinoya joins in, earning a smack from daichi. 

tanaka breathes in steadily. “kiyoko-san, please don’t be next,” he pleads. 

“tanaka-san, please stop being dramatic.” 

[watevermelon]

Cheating!Haikyuu x Reader

✧ Summary: Akaashi and Kuroo getting caught cheating and begging you for forgiveness ➳ A/N: Honestly, I don’t think ANY of the boys would ever even consider it. They’re all so loving in their own ways and for anyone to actually do this would be absolutely horrible to their partners. ➳  Masterlist 

But ask for angst and you shall receive. kuroo’s is funny and akaashi’s is not

----- xXxXxXxXxXx-----

✧ Intro: 

You trusted your boyfriend of the past year explicitly. Your relationship was built on a mutual friendship, going from casual classmates to one day dating when he had asked you out. You were surprised to say the least, this was one of the members of the volleyball team. They were popular throughout school with the entire student body. And so for him to show interest in you? You honestly hadn’t believed it.

But as the months went on and a few became your everyday norm, along with even getting invited over his house to meet his family, you were sure that the man you were dating was the one.

You remembered the first time he kissed you, the first I love you that he ever whispered in your ears.

And so it broke your heart to find out that you were not the only one he was saying these words to.

The school you were attending was known to be a powerhouse regarding volleyball. You were proud of the national spotlight your boyfriend was fighting on. And you fully understood the times when he would be gone or busy for weeks at a time - whether it was for traveling far away for various training camps or just practicing long into the nights for upcoming tournaments.

You remembered the first time you saw it, the text that was very much not from you. The phone had vibrated while he was out of the room and you were not trying to be nosy - calling his name that he received a notification and glancing at it briefly through the motion.

I miss your lips on mine.

You knew from the beginning that Akaashi always had a special connection to Bokuto. Even before you were close to the quiet setter, you admired how he always seemed to know how to lift Bokuto’s spirits. From the preliminary matches against Nekoma to just seeing the two in school, it made you want to foster such a close relationship with him yourself.

And on more than one occasion, you had to remind yourself they were just friends.

Your friends warned you ahead of time, that the two had a strong bond despite being separated by a year and not even attending the same junior high. You knew this and simply attributed it to his patience and overall ability to read people.

When you had once asked Akaashi about his relationship with the nationally acclaimed ace, he smiled and said, “He can be a lot to handle. But I love watching Bokuto-san play when he’s in the zone.” 

You took it a face value, instead relishing in the comfort knowing that your boyfriend was wrapping his arms around you.

Months later, with that insecurity pushed in the back of your mind, it all came swarming out at Bokuto-san’s text. There was no denying what you were reading or who it was from. It was even accompanied by owl emojis of all things - as if there was anything cute about your boyfriend’s affair.

Your attention was caught and you needed confirmation, scrolling up through their conversation and seeing similar words spanning the last few hours alone. Had he been texting Bokuto the entire time he was sitting here with you?

You threw his phone back on the couch and stood, moving before even thinking about how you looked. 

Why would Akaashi do this? Akaashi?? The kind, loving Akaashi Keiji who had the love of the whole school? Hadn’t he chosen you?

Standing in the middle of his family’s living room, you put a hand on your chest to steady your breathing. You felt the onset of panic gripping your chest, threatening to force tears to the corners of your eyes. There was nothing you could say, you just had to see if it was true.

How long had this been going on? Is it possible that this was before you were even dating? Why was Akaashi stringing along the both of you? Were any of the promises Akaashi told you true?

There was no denying the sudden jump of fear you had when Akaashi walked back in the room, a questioning look on his face as he saw you try to level your breathing.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

As if he had no idea, no reason to truly think that he was the cause behind your unease.

You tried your best to feign a smile, but there was no point in hiding anything to someone as cunning as Akaashi, you figured. He was best at reading other people. Instead, you held your frown and motioned to your phone, “I got a bad text from my mom - I need to go home.”

Akaashi was already moving toward you, arms reaching out to steady you at the shoulders. He was such a comforting foundation for you. And yet now, his close proximity brought nothing but anxiety and anger.

He seemed to notice since Akaashi dropped his hands to his sides. “Alright, let me walk you home?”

You nodded in agreement, not trusting your voice. You worried that you were going to unintentionally spill out the word vomit - accusing words ready on the tip of your tongue. He still reached out to encase your hand in his own, silently walking side-by-side for the entire time.

Thankfully, you had different homerooms and could avoid him for the first initial hours of school the next day. Did you have a plan? Absolutely fucking not. But you knew that you had to see them together - see them in their element and see why. 

You needed to know the reason why Akaashi would throw away everything you built together.

You stayed silent to your friends, not even telling your best friend what happened. Not that you were afraid of Akaashi finding out that you knew somehow, but you wanted to see what was naturally between them, without anyone else’s interference.

Akaashi had thankfully given you your space, probably assuming that your family emergency from before was what was holding you down. It also helped that they had a practice match against Itachiyama at the end of the week, so he was called to practice especially more.

He always had such beautiful hands, despite the hours of practice he dedicated to his sport. It made you wonder what he did with them. There were a number of times before where Akaashi would text you late into the night, citing that Bokuto had demanded more practice with his spikes. 

Was Akaashi really setting a ball for five hours straight after your last mid-terms?

You had a million questions in your head as you sat in the stands with your friends, watching the game of Fukurōdani vs Itachiyama. Bokuto was at the top of his game today, none of his usual vices holding him down as he played against his rival, Sakusa. For you and the other students cheering on the team, it could have been easily seen as just another game.

But it wasn’t.

You watched how Akaashi’s gaze would sometimes linger on Bokuto, long legs guiding his stride to a spike. The ace seemed to fly above the net, passion for their shared sport radiating even up in the stands where you were sitting. The fond expression Akaashi had only brought up his earlier words to mind - I love watching him play.

The interaction was so strangely intimate and yet public for any spectator the game. The moment passed, time moving forward as you continued to analyze every smile Akaashi shot the ace. Bokuto’s raised an overjoyed fist in the air in his excitement over the single point. He yelled his usual, Hey! Hey! Hey! And while you found the action usually humorous, you could only stare in blank realization as Akaashi fondly smiled at the spiker’s words.

There was no rising panic this time, nothing inside you screaming at you that something was wrong. 

Your eyes kept following the scene, the game playing out while you stood stock-still among your friends. But your mind was already made up, long before the game ended. You thought about it a few times over the past few days, why Bokuto? Why you?

Why did Akaashi even approach you in the first place?

Thinking back to any conversations you had with Akaashi that surrounded volleyball. All their little volleyball antics - it was always about Bokuto. He got in trouble with the principal, got depressed during a game, even something as simple as being overly hungry before a match. And who was the one to always pick him up? 

Akaashi.

And this was not something that could be as simply waved off as teammates. Neither Haruki nor Konoha were like this with the ace and both of them knew Bokuto longer than Akaashi. Kaori had even joked to you once that Akaashi was capable of reading Bokuto’s mind.

You were a fool.

You hadn’t told Akaashi you were going to attend this practice match in the first place and you honestly had no intention of doing so.

Instead, you texted Bokuto during the game to meet you outside by the entrance stairs, alone. 

Most of the other students had already filled out of the gymnasium, out into the streets on their way home as you leaned against the cold railing. You could hear Bokuto’s quick steps around the corner before you even saw him.

“Hey, (L/N)-chan! What’s up?” He greeted you in a friendly manner, waving with one hand fully outstretched even though you were only a few feet away from each other.

You weren’t going to smile and pretend.

“Bokuto-san.” You stated, looking him in the eyes head-on.

Despite his amicable disposition, Bokuto had quite the intimidating disposition to outsiders. The tall spiker was built with muscles, arms and legs looking seemingly sculpted. And here you were, pointing a heavy glare with your chin held-high at a man who could very easily over-power you.

“Don’t smile at me like everything’s okay.” You started, “I know.”

His smile immediately squashed to a straight line, eyes hardening as they looked down at you. Bokuto crossed his arms, his athletic duffel pushed to the side of his body.

“I won’t apologize for being in love with him.” His voice rang through the calm outdoors, not a single soul to hear his confession other than you.

You scoffed, “How did I already know you’d say that?”

Bokuto kept your question rhetorical, for once staying uncharacteristically silent. His gaze never wavered off of yours, eyes boring right into you as you wordlessly sized each other up.

“I tried to let him go, once.” Bokuto continued, “When you first started dating, I tried and couldn’t.”

They were together before you were even in the picture.

You bit your lip, asking. “And you’re going to ask me not to make you do it again?”

Bokuto paused, uncrossing his arms and looking heavenward for the right answer. How could he? They were already on the road to love before you even really knew Akaashi. Why did he ask you out in the first place? Why progress this far in your relationship? 

None of this was right and you had every bone in your body screaming at you to beat the ever loving shit out of the two volleyball players. But there was one thing you needed to cut off now.

“I don’t need an answer to confirm what you’re thinking.” You stated, “Treat his heart kindly.”

Bokuto sputtered, raising his arms in defense. “Akaashi chose you - he asked you out!��

You almost snarled at the irony, “As if that matters! What’s a label against the fact that he’s been in love with you during that entire time?”

He recoiled, nothing to say against your true question. You were his girlfriend, but how could that possibly matter when his heart continually lingered on the ace in front of you. And, since the volleyball God’s hated you, it was no surprise when the setter turned the corner to your impassioned conversation.

“What’s happening here?” His voice rang out, meeting Bokuto’s worried expression and your hardened one. 

Akaashi stopped in his stride the moment he saw the both of you, not moving closer to you or Bokuto and simply guarding his expression from leaking any of his inner thoughts.

“I thought about this a million times over the past few days.” You said low, but voice strong enough for the others to hear. “How I would yell at you, curse you to your face... But now that I see you, you’re pathetic.”

Akaashi was the master of a blank expression, but now there was nothing but panic and hurt written all over his face. Whatever words he was going to say, to somehow excuse his behavior, died on his lips when you calmly raised your palm to stop him.

How dare he.

"I don’t want to know why you led me on for so long. Or why you decided stringing along Bokuto this whole time would be good to the people you claim to love.” 

Bokuto frowned, looking to the side away from the two of you, but said nothing to refute your statement.

“Don’t ever talk to me again.”

You walked away from Akaashi then, turning away and heading home without looking back. There was nothing left, no words that could ever explain or fix the situation, not that you wanted him to try either. Bokuto’s voice reached you mid-way through the steps, his words low but aimed toward Akaashi.

The words were low and you were surprised you were even able to hear them: She’s not wrong.

The next day at school neither of them were present.

You laid it all out to your best friends at lunch then, all of you sitting under the apple tree and quietly listening to your story. They offered you small condolences, never bringing up the volleyball team or practice matches around you ever again. Konoha shot you a wilted frown in passing, no words enough to even start that conversation.

You only saw Akaashi one more time. It was no surprise that Fukurōdani was progressing to the Spring Nationals and everyone at school were quick to congratulate various team members on their victory. You saw them, preening around the lunchroom as the student body wished them luck.

They were holding hands.

You lingered on the sight for a single second. But it was enough for Akaashi to notice your eyes, shooting a withered smile in your direction. 

There was nothing you wanted to do in response, nothing left for you to say and hope for when it came to the setter. And so you simply turned back to your friends, rejoining the conversation with thoughts of the volleyball team long behind you.

You had to re-read the text three times, your mind whirling in circles to accept the fact that this was for your Tetsurō.

It was only when your hands flew to scroll upwards that you realized yes, this was really happening. It was all so quick - he had left the room to use the bathroom, or whatever, at this point you hadn’t even remembered why. Just his phone, which he always had on him, had vibrated away on your coffee table.

You grabbed it half-mindedly, original intention to bring it to him and maybe leave it at the door in case it was some type of volleyball-related emergency. He was the captain, after all. And so when the actual contents of the texts grabbed your attention, it was all over from there.

The profile picture was of the popular student body president, her shining face radiating even now. The other boys of the volleyball team had always complimented her and brought her up in conversation. Before you were even dating, you remembered that Kuroo particularly agreed with many of her features: long-hair, mild temper, and good grades even in college prep classes.

You were on the average scale of things - average grades in college prep, a member of photography club, but not particularly motivated - you were easily replaceable in the fast-paced world that Kuroo and others were constantly facing. And while you tried not to dwell on it too much, Kuroo was at the top of class with many of the female student body interested in him - there were times he had inadvertently made you felt small.

But Kuroo did try to wave those thoughts away, saying that you were the one he was in love with. It was only for you that he showed his soft side and only you were the recipient of his loving gestures.

And yet now you had in your hands evidence that none that was true.

You wanted to scream - reading all the affectionate phrases he had typed away to this woman.

Were you going to accuse him, then and there? What were you even going to say to him?

Kuroo made the choice for you.

“What are you doing with my phone?” He asked, voice promulgating the silent room.

You were sure that your eyes were glossy as you responded back quietly, “I was going to bring it to you when it kept ringing.”

“Thanks babe, just pass it over.” He said calmly, outstretching a palm in your direction.

You held the phone to your chest, there was no way you could feign a reaction now. This was no longer the simple interaction that you could pretend would pass over, the adulterous text was still open on the screen, open for both parties to quickly see.

His grey-eyes surveyed you silently, not a single word uttered, as if it would break this unmoving conversation. You always found his observant stare endearing, how his greatest weapon on the volleyball court was something he used on you to understand you better. 

And now, you could only imagine what he was truly thinking throughout your relationship.

Kuroo’s fond looks, those kind smiles, they were all calculated actions to keep you on his hook. They were not the loving terms of endearment you believed them to be. They were deliberate ways to sate your relationship, nothing more.

You frowned, handing him the phone and biting out coldly. “I want you to leave.”

“Listen babe, it’s not what you think.” Kuroo was reaching for you, taking steps to close the distance before you fled away entirely.

“Of course! What was I thinking?!” Your voice was raising with every word, anger seeping through toward the middle-blocker. “Some other girl texting you: I dream of waking up to you every day, could be some other context that what I’m too small-minded to know? Right?”

He followed behind you as you traversed through your empty house. You just wanted to get away from him, just the very image of Kuroo was enough to make you angry and inescapably hurt. There was so much you wanted to just yell at him, but at the same time you knew this was the man who held your heart.

And the same one who chose to break it.

What was there even to say to him? You’ve won? Congratulations? Get out of my house?

“Get out!” You settled on that and yelled behind you, your voice weak as you sucked in air between tears. Kuroo continued to follow behind you despite your loud command.

You pushed open the door to your bedroom and attempted to slam it behind you, but a simple kick of his foot and it stayed open. Instead, Kuroo closed it and locked it as he followed.

He had you cornered.

Would it be crazy if you jumped out the window?

Your eyes shot to the opening at the side-wall of your room, but it seemed his gaze followed your own path when he grabbed your elbow and pulled you to him.

Kuroo had his hands on your shoulders, trying to calm you down. “Please just listen to me.”

“Listen to what?” You were trying to push him away, but Kuroo refused to budge against you.

He leaned his chin against the top of your head, one of his arms going down to wrap around your waist. “Stop, you know I would never do anything to hurt you.”

“Then why...?”

“It looks bad. I know it does.” Kuroo started to explain, “But I can prove to you that this isn’t what you think.”

You sniffed, not saying anything as you waited for whatever bullshit response was already formulating on his lips.

What you hadn’t expected was for Kuroo to raise the phone to your ear, the ringing of the outgoing call blasting next to you.

What was he doing? Was he insane? 

You didn’t want to listen to her voice, listen to whatever she was going to say when she picked up the phone. Loving words, teasing innuendo’s, all of that you shared with Kuroo and now he was going to show-off what he had with another girl?

You twisted against him, ready to fight out of outrage of not only being cheated on, but also Kuroo doing the utmost stupid thing he could ever do and showing it off in front of you.

The voice that rang out froze you in your actions.

“Captain! Was my text really bad that you had to call?”

“... Yamamoto-san?” You near-whispered back in recognition.

You heard what was almost a yelp back. He stuttered over your name, before asking, “Ah, you and um. You and Kuroo-san are spending your day off together?”

Taking hold of the phone yourself, you looked at the screen and saw that it was indeed to the same student body president that the call was going through to. Same icon, same everything. So why was Yamamoto on the other side of the line? You looked up at Kuroo briefly, the middle-blocker staring at you right back. He urged the phone back to your ear, reminding you that Nekoma’s ace was still on the other side of the line.

“...Yeah.” You answered back weakly, remembering his initial question.

“... Was there something you needed?” He asked nervously.

“Um.” You bit your lip and looked at Kuroo, “Why is your name saved as our student body president in Kuroo’s phone?”

“Aasdfgh.” The strangled noise lasted for ten seconds before Kuroo cleared his throat next to you. “Captain! You’re there too!”

“Explain it, now.” Kuroo said flatly, his voice plain as his grip on your waist tightened. You put a hand on his chest in an attempt to keep him at a distance. You were still mad, admittedly also confused, but you didn’t want Kuroo to just hug the issue away.

Of course, he pushed your hand away and continued to hold you close.

“Please, don’t judge me (L/N)-san!”

Your confusion was only growing. “Um. What’s going on?”

“somycrushgavemehernumberbuticanttalktogirlsandididntwanttomessupsoiwaspracticingwhattosayonkurooandtherestandthentheygotmadsosometimesitextmyselffromtheirphonenumbersaspractice!” 

The words were so fast, you held the phone closer to your ear in an attempt to decipher anything that was just said.

“Wait, what?”

Yamamoto sighed loudly before exclaiming, “I can’t talk to my crush!”

You tilted your head in confusion, “... Kuroo’s your crush?”

The middle-blocker sighed above you, moving to flick your forehead while Yamamoto was near screaming in outrage on the line.

“No!! I.. I don’t have a lot of experience talking to girls! And then my crush gave me her number and she started texting me! And believe me, I tried practicing on otome games and even they dumped me!”

“Uhh...”

His loud voice kept going, explaining the strange tale, “And so I was begging the guys to help me practice and eventually they got sick of me too! She was really into me too and we were flirting and I wasn’t ready!! I don’t have anyyyy experience, (L/N)-san!!”

You shot a look up to Kuroo, his gaze locked on you without any other hints of an expression on. You were sure that your face was a mix of incredulous and worried, was this for real?

“And then she started texting me dirty things and I wanted to do it back, so Kuroo taught--”

“Skip it.” The middle-blocker stated harshly, cutting off the ace.

“Aasdafhauh.” Yamamoto outwardly struggled, remembering that both Kuroo and you, a female, were on the line. “I thought all was lost and then Kuroo let me practice texting myself and seeing how it looked from his phone!”

Oh.

lmao

“Wait, what?”

Kuroo summarized it plainly for you. “It means he was practicing sexting himself from my phone.”

“Ca-Captain!” His voice rang out.

You could not help your growing, amused smile. “Is it true?”

“I - well, yes...”

His voice trailed, but you held in your chuckle. “Ah, thanks for clearing that up.”

Yamamoto paused before asking, “Did my impassioned words led to a misunderstanding?”

“I’m sure your words are the least of your problems tomorrow at practice.”  Kuroo answered this time, earning an anguished exclamation before the middle-blocker hung-up and threw the phone away.

That was not what you were expecting.

Your mind was in a million places, not sure what to say and what you were just witness to. Kuroo pulled you along to your bed, near throwing you on top while you were distracted in your thoughts.

He hovered above you, placing a light kiss on your forehead and then trailing down the side of your face. You cupped his cheek, still trying to process what the hell just happened, but moved to slot his lips against yours and reassure yourself that this was real. 

Kuroo pulled away and whispered against your lips, “I know it looks crazy, but please trust in me - in us.”

You nodded silently, simply stating an okay when Kuroo continued to stare at you.

“I want this... more than just now in high school.” Kuroo looked to the side, before returning his gaze back to you.

Guiding his head back to yours, you pushed off your elbow to lean up to him. “Me too. I’m sorry for being so quick to accuse you.”

“Stop.” He murmured against your skin, small pecks following his wake. “I should’ve explained it to you before.”

“I mean, it does sound pretty crazy.” You joked, a fond smile growing on your face as Kuroo continued to shower your neck with small kisses. “To think you were flirting with Yamamoto of all people.”

“Oi.” A small scowl was already on his face.

You were ready to tease your poor boyfriend, “Sorry, you were sexting him.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes, a hand already sneaking its way under your shirt. “Why don’t I show you what I was teaching him?”

You felt your eyes comically widen at his boldness, any hint of your previous teasing falling away as your boyfriend’s sly smirk crawled further and further down your body.

The love you felt for Kuroo was undeniably mutual, but you had to learn to trust your boyfriend.

----- xXxXxXxXxXx-----

oop lmao hope you enjoyed these short stories!

Come checkout some of the added-on endings to Cheater!Akaashi’s story: ➳  Masterlist 

[chanheeinc]

Love in a Slide (Juyeon One Shot)

Description: A Spin-off One Shot from THIS reaction post!

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1431

You have known Juyeon since you two were 6, he stole your snack at lunch and you hated his guts until you were 16. Some say a ten year grudge is a little much, you say the jerk should have kept his hands to himself. He has since bought you many snacks, and stayed by your side no matter what. You two are together so often, your parents ask where he is if he didn’t come home with you that day or you didn’t go to his. After he debuted, you figured you wouldn’t see him anymore, but he makes sure to facetime you every night and ask how your day went. Most days you ask how his went, unless you could see how upset he was about something. The first time you noticed Juyeon’s sad eyes is when you started dating a guy on the soccer team in highschool. You at the time assumed it was because he was too busy with training that he didn’t have time for the sport and that made him upset. You never got used to how gloomy he would be when your boyfriend was around, so you broke up with him. You told Juyeon it was because he refused to open the door for you, he thought the reason was funny and smiled again for the first time in a long time. Now when you see Juyeon’s sad eyes, you tell him a story of your clumsy adventures for the day, making him smile. Last night he called you with new sad eyes.

“What’s wrong?” You asked before you could even register the words leaving your mouth.

“What do you mean? I’m just a bit tired,do I look bad?” Juyeon rubbed his face.

“Honestly? You look a little rough buddy,” You tell him. “ When is your break?”

“Next week, we get two days off.”

“Come over to mine then! All of you, we can have a staycation!” You say enthusiastically.

Juyeon agrees that a staycation seems fun, The Boyz members all text you how excited they are to come. Your apartment lets you set up tents on the tennis court, since no one uses it anyways. You get camp foods and drinks, determined to make your friends have a good time, you spend your whole check on everything. By the time you get done stringing up lights, setting up the grill, and filling the coolers, The Boyz arrive with gifts in hand. You sprint to hug them, it has been about a year since you were next to Juyeon physically. Sangyeon ruffles your hair, Eric jumps in your arms, Hyunjae high-fives you, and Jacob hugs you tightly. Juyeon isn’t to be seen, you turn to ask where he is and met Juyeon’s eyes. He is squinting at you.

“Did you not see me?” He asks.

“Not even a little, how long have you been there?” You wrap your arms around him, bringing him into a hug. You rest your head on his chest as his arms snake around you.

“I got here first, maybe if you weren’t so entranced by Sangyeon you would have seen me.” You laugh at him and look up to see he isn’t smiling, odd.

“I guess I was just too excited to see everyone, sorry JuJu, don’t worry you are still my number one.” You see him smile slightly at that.

You grab Juyeon’s hand and skip to the campsite, The Boyz have already made themselves comfortable in the lawn chairs you set out. They all begin to talk about what has been going on since they last saw you. Changmin shows you pictures of his Chucky doll, Chanhee begs you to let him live with you, Sunwoo rests his head on your shoulder dramatically. Juyeon continues to hold your hand, not saying much. After Sangyeon tells some stories of everyone and Younghoon successfully falls over the lowered net about five times, it has gotten dark. You all enjoy a meal of grilled meat and down several drinks. After the dinner Kevin stands up and loudly asks to play Hide n Seek. You all eagerly agree, choosing Sangyeon to be it first. After four rounds you find yourself running for your life to the playground close to the Tennis Court, Juyeon deciding to join you like he has done for the previous rounds. This was always how you and he wound up playing games for school trips, never leaving each other’s side, you guess things haven’t changed much. You go through the bottom part of the slide, your legs being the only strong part about you so they can hold you up. Juyeon slides halfway down the entrance, his face inches from yours. You didn’t think anything of it, you’ve shared a bed with him several times, even a sleeping bag. You were so focused on listening for footsteps that you didn’t feel Juyeon’s eyes burning a hole in you. You finally glance at him to be startled by his serious face. Juyeon always gets serious around you when he has been drinking, something you forgot since you haven’t seen him in a while. His eyes flicker down for a second then back up, your heart pounding in your ears.

“I don’t think Jacob will find us for a while.” You say, voice cracking lightly..

“Hm?” Juyeon says.

“I said,” You begin to repeat yourself, Juyeon moving slightly closer to you, eyes looking lower again, you gulp.

“Jacob, not finding.” You sound like a caveman, Juyeon isn’t really listening anyways.

His face is close to yours, usually one of the two of you would jokingly make a fake vomit noise, but not tonight. He was inching closer to you, no room left. A second away from-

"Found you two!" Says Jacob.

You snap out of the daze the slide puts you in, Juyeon disappearing afterwards. The Boyz are tired from running around and all decide to crash, moving to their respected tents. You only bought four, three to a room. Jacob was supposed to share the tent with you and Juyeon, but he heads towards Kevin’s tent.

“Cobie, you're in my tent.” You stop him.

“I know, but since you haven't seen Juyeon in a while, I’ll give you two alone time.” Jacob smiles.

You thank him and help carry his things into the now crowded tent of Kevin, Eric, and Hyunjae. You unzip your tent to see Juyeon laying on his back. You flop down next to him, taking his hand. He hesitates to hold it, the first time that he has ever done so. You glance at him, his sad eyes are showing.

“The stars look lovely tonight.” You jokingly say looking up at the tents ceiling.

“I’m in love with you.” Juyeon says.

Your head turns so fast to look at him you hear it pop. His eyes are closed but you can see tears falling out of them. You sit up, letting go of Juyeon’s hand. “I Love you,” you’ve heard a million times, but “I’m in love with you,” is a new one. You grab the tissues you brought, dabbing the tears away from Juyeon’s eyes. You were close to his face again, just like in the slide. You don’t know if you love him or in love with him, you have never known. You always felt happy when he was around, you even liked when he hated your high school boyfriend, though you were unsure why. Maybe you are in love with him, maybe you’re selfish and just want him to love you.

“Are you sure?” You ask after a few minutes of silence, a dumb question but the only thing you can think of.

“Positive.” His voice cracks.

“For how long?” At this point you are stalling to make up your mind.

“I don’t know how long I’ve been in love, but I’ve had a crush on you since we were six. That’s why I stole your snack.” His eyes close harder, like that stops the tears and not pushes them out.

You laugh. Confused, he opens his eyes, tears falling even more rapidly. You cover your mouth, wiping away his tears. All of these emotions begin at a lunch time snack. You didn’t need any more time. You lean down and kiss him, he instantly kisses back. A thousand sparks shoot off through your body, he grabs you and pulls you closer. You pull away and rest your head on his chest, you can hear his rapid heartbeat. He lays his hand on your back, holding you close.

[uwuwriting]

Wearing his jersey w/ Daichi, Kageyama and Osamu

Request: hi!! can i req the ‘wearing their jersey’ with daichi kags and osamu plss! i loved the one u wrote for kuroo akaashi and ushi. -anonymous

Okay I haven’t written for my Haikyuu babies for quite some time and that sucks. Everyday is Haikyuu day and I simp for a different character every hour of the day lmao. Although my new found obsession with Nanami is taking up most of my time. Oh well guess he’ll have to share my spare time with one of the Haikyuu boys every time. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: fluff, I don’t think there are any warnings for this one. 

Sawamura Daichi

-Captain Daichi thirst is active 24/7 lmao. 

-He is used to you taking his clothes.

-From hoodies, to t-shirts to his sweatpants, it has become a regular occurrence in your relationship. 

-He loves seeing you in his clothes. 

-They are always too big on your body, his hoodies almost reaching your knees and it makes his heart go doki doki. 

-He just wants to hug you to his chest and never let go. 

-He has given you one of his t-shirts to wear to sleep cuz he loves the idea of you having a little part of him with you even if it's just a shirt.

-You two were having a sleepover before one of his major games and of course you were helping him unwind. 

-You helped him make his duffle bag and double check for his knee pads, gave him a massage for his sore muscles after a long week of non stop practices and finally forced him to take a self care evening after he asked you to help him practice with his receives. 

-While putting on his face mask you were going on about something random when you noticed the furrow of his brows. 

- “Everything is gonna be fine baby, you’ll see. You and the boys have practiced really hard for this match and you;ll make it I know you will.” 

-Smiling up at you he gave you a peck on the lips, careful not to smudge your own face mask in the process. 

- “I know or at least I think I do. I just feel off knowing you won’t be there.” 

-Oh that’s right….You weren’t sure you would make it in time to catch the beginning of the match due to a family obligation but you were certain you would get to see the later half of the game. 

-Though Daichi didn’t have to know that yet. 

-Kissing him again you reassured him that the team didn’t need you to be there to wipe the floor with the other team’s ass, that he didn’t need you there. 

-The pout on his lips said otherwise though but he didn’t push it. 

-When the time came for the match to begin, he kept glancing at the stands mainly out of habit but also because he half expected you to make it on time. 

-No such luck though, you were nowhere to be seen. 

- “Oi Daichi focus!!” 

-Suga nearly karate chopped him in the stomach when he didn’t stop looking for you. 

-Everyone could see that their captain was a little out of it but they chose to keep quiet.

-You on the other hand, were sprinting through the streets of Miyagi to get to your boyfriend’s game as fast as possible, his jersey spurring you forward as you pounded down the school’s courtyard. 

-In a flash you were in your regular seat in the very front of the bleachers, chest rising and falling frantically as you tried to catch your breath. 

-You took off your jacket and rushed to the railing, tracing the ball with your eyes as the opposing team spiked it right into your boyfriend’s arms. 

- “GO DAI!!”

-His eyes found you immediately, quickly shooting down to your chest where the number 1 of his dark jersey rested proudly flushing at the sight. 

-The game was over rather quickly after that. 

-Daichi was in top form, his receives being immaculate while his serves were on point. 

-The first thing he did when he walked out of the lockers was to hug you, hug you so close and tight you could barely breath as he thanked you for coming.

- “You r-really thought I w-would miss this???” 

- “........Baby I can’t b-breath.”

Kageyama Tobio 

-Flustered babyyyy.

-He will never get used to seeing you in his clothes. 

-You have worn his hoodies before and he has had a heart attack every time. 

-It reached a point where you thought that he hated seeing you in them and you stopped asking for his hoodies or jackets even if you were cold. 

-That caused the frown on his face to deepen and a very shy confession that he indeed loved seeing you in his clothes. 

-Ever since that day you always have at least one of his hoodies in your closet. 

-Now your relationship is a secret. 

-Considering who his teammates are, you both agreed that it would be wise to keep your relationship under wraps, neither of you want to go through their reaction in this lifetime at least. 

-Keeping that in mind, you never wore his clothes out in public so you wouldn’t draw unwanted attention to you. 

-You go to all his games of course, being his best friend before becoming his girlfriend does that to a person, plus he had convinced you to become a manager alongside Yachi.

-So even if you wanted to skip a game you couldn’t. 

-Now that you think of it this must have been part of his plan since now he can be near you all the time. 

-You couldn’t bring yourself to be even remotely mad at him, he was just too cute. 

-You were so proud of your boys for making it to nationals that you decided to hype them up a bit. 

-Convincing both Yachi and Kiyoko you stole three jerseys from the team while they were changing before you took your seats in the sidelines. 

-Many would think that you wearing Kageyama’s jersey was a mere coincidence. 

-You chose him because he is your best friend, not because something else was going on. 

-Sugawara and Tsukishima aren’t most people and you soon found yourself in some hot water with those two. 

-Apart from the fact that Kageyama couldn’t look your way without having a stroke, he whipped the floor with the other team, gasps and applause filling the stadium every time he dunked the ball on the other side of the court. 

-It got to the point where the other less observant member of the team started noticing the significant difference in his attitude. 

- “Kageyama why are you playing so aggressively the ball keeps going like WOOSH and BAM without me even hitting it.” 

-Poor boy almost chocked on his water at Hinata’s words and when you went to help him he turned 50 shades of red in a matter of 0.0005 seconds. 

-This whole charade ended with your relationship being exposed after Noya begged you to wear his jersey and Tobio wasn’t having it, three nosebleeds and a whole lot of teasing. 

-He moved to your room that night despite the fact that the third years kept teasing him about being safe and wrapping it before tapping it. 

-Held a small grudge for like five minutes. 

Miya Osamu

-Love of my life number 20.

-The superior twin and this will make it evident. 

-Atsumu is always being a little shit about your relationship and how you don’t look like a couple cuz you don’t make out in the hallways all the time. 

-Em sir excuse you!

-Anyways, you know to ignore him at this point figuring that he’ll get tired and stop but no such luck; he irritates Osamu to no end resulting in one of them needing bandages at the end of practice. 

-PDA is not something you are both comfortable with and you prefer small reassuring touches throughout the day. 

-This has led to many believing that you two aren’t a couple just like Atsumu says and other people have confessed to you or asked you out WHILE Osamu is with you. 

-It doesn’t bother him much since he trusts you but it still tugs at his insecurities. 

-And because of those insecurities you get a new wardrobe. 

-Literally a whole ass new clothing line made by none other than Osamu Miya himself. 

-What is in this new clothing line you ask? 

-Osamu’s hoodies and shirts in general. 

-Every time he stops by your house he brings a new item of clothing with him, something that he has worn recently and others have seen just to get his message across. 

-You aren’t complaining, you love wearing his clothes, they are always so big and they completely swallow you plus they smell like him. 

-It’s like you have him with you. 

-Now Osamu might not show it often but volleyball stresses him out, like a lot. 

-It means the world to his brother and despite their fights and bickering, he loves seeing him happy and if that means he has to play the sport like his life depends on it so be it. 

-Osamu would do anything for Atsumu. 

-So you can understand the pressure he is under as a spiker. 

-His distress is you basically and you give him a small pep talk right before he enters the court. 

-Imagine his surprise and pure childish glee when he saw you making your way to him wearing his jersey. 

-It reached just above your knee and it made you look so cute he wanted to bottle you up and keep you forever. 

-Atsumu and Suna could be heard in the background teasing the living shit out of Osamu who remained frozen in place, the whole stadium turning into white noise as the only thing in his view, the only thing that mattered in that moment, was you. 

-He noticed your glare as you told his brother off, saw the way you played with the hem of his jersey as you walked near him and the furrow of your brows when he didn’t answer your calls. 

-Wordlessly he enveloped you in a tight hug, picking you off your feet and twirling you around a little bit much to the dismay of his fanbase in the stands. 

- “Hi.” “Hey ‘Samu”

- “Whatcha wearin?”

- “Oh this old thing? I figured you might need the motivation.” 

- *cue kissing assault*

TAG TEAM AY:

Arcana-Fan-at The @-FIC @angelwritings @axerrri @reinyrei @dnarez @ storage11037 @ezoyscorner @letscheereachotheron @ wolfkid22 @ Dark-Thoughts-and-Red-Roses @threeamwriting @ysatrap @yashinosakura @yongboxerrr​ @meena-in-a-nutshell​

[hawks-supremacy]

Personal Trainer

Summary: being a photographer for nearly every volleyball team in Japan had it's perks, and your roommate likes to abuse those perks.

warnings: none? I mean there's swearing

genre: fluff

word count: 1.3k

a/n: day 2 of writing every day until my birthday. this was something I wrote quick after work.

You were sitting at your desk editing some photos you took for an online sports article. You were a freelance photographer for various volleyball teams. You mostly took photos for their social media accounts and any special events they attended. You were nearly done fixing the lighting in a photo when your roommate and best friend Hana entered your room.

“Gather your things, change into different clothes and get ready to leave, we’re going to the gym to workout.” She proudly stated while going through your closet attempting to find some clothes you could possibly wear to the gym. You raised your eyebrows, not looking up from your computer, “I’m sorry but I’ve known you for several years now and not once have you or me attempted to work out. We’re lazy which is why I take pictures of sports and not play them.” She made a noise of triumph after finding some decent workout clothes and sat on your bed next to your desk, “Yeah but this is different.” You sighed running your fingers through your hair, “Hana how is this any different.” You saved the photo to your finished folder and closed the app you were using before looking at Hana with a deadpan look. “I figured out that the gym near us is where the Olympic volleyball team is training?” She gave you a sheepish look as she messed with her hands.

“Hana I swear to whatever Deity, God, or Goddess is out there I am not stalking athletes that I regularly work with and take photos of.” You sternly stated as you got up to stretch. “That’s my point! You work with them and not once have you ever introduced me to any hot volleyball players! I needed to take matters into my own hands!” She said as she followed you to the kitchen, “Besides we’re getting old, we need to work on our health.” You laughed loudly at that statement, “Dude we are 25 and perfectly healthy, you just wanna ogle at the hot athletes. We probably can’t even get into the gym if they’re there. They most likely reserved the whole place.”

“Yeah uh I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. Here’s the thing, it's actually really funny when you think about it, I bet we’ll laugh years from now.” She looked away and you narrowed your eyes in suspicion, “What did you do?” She thought for a moment still refusing to make eye contact, “So when I figured out that they were at the gym by us I went and purchased to gym memberships, but then the lady told me after I bought them mind you, couldn’t even give me the courtesy of letting me know beforehand, that yes, they reserved the whole gym.” You nodded, “Just like I thought they probably would.” She hummed in agreement, “Yeah so I uh borrowed your laptop.” You interrupted her saying her name in a warning tone before she continued, “I emailed one of the team members you regularly take photos with, I think it was Bokuto but it might’ve been Atsumu. It was definitely someone on the msby black jackals team. Either way he said it would be a great promo opportunity for both the team and his instagram and invited us...yay!” By the end of her story you were leaning on the counter pinching the bridge of your

nose. “What time did you say we’d be there.”

An hour and a half later you were walking into the gym with your photographer ID and your camera bag, “I hate that you’re taking advantage of my job like this.” You told Hana as the guy working the front of the gym where everyone was located. “Yeah but I don’t feel bad, what if my soulmate was on this team and you were never gonna introduce me to him. Honestly Y/n, the nerve of you to keep me from him.” She said as she practically skipped down the hallway. “This isn’t some storybook where everyone has soulmates, you’re just a hopeless romantic.” You said opening the door to the gym and walking in.

“Y/n! How have you been? Who’s your friend?” Atsumu said as he approached you both. “Hey! This is Hana she’s uh, she’s here just to tag along and admire honestly, so you can ignore her.” As you finished your statement Hana shoved you over as you laughed. “No, ignore them please. I’m a fan, not like a creepy stalker fan, but a fan. They’ve been uh meaning to let me meet you guys but keep forgetting.” As you were talking, a guy with short hair that you've never seen before walked over. “Hey, I’m Y/n this is Hana. I don’t know if we’ve met and I've probably met every volleyball player I possibly could.” You shook his hand as you introduced yourself, “I’m Iwaizumi and you haven’t met me because I’m not a volleyball player. Well I used to be, but now I’m a personal trainer.”

“You could be their personal trainer, they need to workout anyway I’m sure you could-” Before Hana could say anything else you covered her mouth with your hand. “Please forget everything she just said. She’s a little crazy, was dropped on her head as a baby and whatnot. I’m the photographer, I don’t know if they told you.” He nodded and was about to say something when Hana licked your hand and you let out a sound of disgust. You apologized and he laughed, “No worries, yeah they told me about you. It’s nice to meet you and for what it’s worth I don’t think you need a personal trainer but if you ever need the help let me know.”

As he walked away to go help some of the guys who were already starting you turned to Hana smacking her arm, “I’m going to murder you in cold blood and not feel an ounce of remorse.” She put her hands in the air in mock surrender, “Sorry, but come on he’s hot and clearly just hit on you.” You shook your head going to set your camera bag down on the bench to get your camera. “You’re ridiculous he was just defending me after you called me fat and out of shape.” You said grabbing your camera and moving to take some photos. “I did not call you fat or out of shape! I’m just trying to help you date a hot guy!”

You turned around now exasperated at the fact that she shouted that across the room. Everyone paused and turned to either look at you or her and she mouthed sorry at you. You groaned in embarrassment, sure that your face was burning red. You spent the next hour or so taking pictures desperately trying to forget that that happened. The guys were finishing up for the day and Hana was flirting or rather attempting to flirt with Atsumu, you were sitting on the bench looking through the photos you took when you heard someone sit down next to you.

Looking over you saw Iwaizumi and groaned, “Please disregard everything that happened today, you know what, in fact just wipe it from your memory altogether. I was never here, we never met.” He pursed his lips and thought for a second, “Fine okay, we never met. Hi I’m Iwaizumi. I’m the team’s personal trainer and I would love to take you out for lunch sometime and maybe get to know you.” You nearly dropped your camera at the response. “Unless of course you don’t want me to and your friend lied about implying you were single?”

You coughed looking through the photos again far too embarrassed to look him in the eyes, “No she uh wasn’t lying. I would like that, a lot actually.”

[bakugotsundere]

Hating Him - Bakugou Katsuki (1)

bakugo x (black) fem reader

( still can read if you’re not)

sorry if it bothers you, i just felt that my black readers weren’t feeling black as they were reading y/n stories cause i for sure wasn’t.

Warning: none

Summary: Bakugo and you have hated each other ever since you met, being on the same track team and having the same friend group didn’t make things any better. you 2 have to act like you like each other for the benefit of the friend group until one day you and him are forced to have movie night with the others and you both have had enough of each other’s shit.

in this chapter: you get invited to the movie night and bump into bakugo

The morning smell of outside filled your lungs as you stepped out your house. It was exactly 5:30 in the morning. The streets were not busy and there was barely any noise, just faint sounds of dogs barking and truck drivers in a distance. It was the perfect time to go for your daily run. The chilly air made you happy, it gave you more of a challenge. you zipped your nike training jacket up. It fit you tight, tugging at every curve of yours. The sky was a foggy blue, a few clouds started coming in, along with the sum.

You walked down the steps of your house, stretching your legs when you got to the sidewalk. You looked ahead and yawned as you walked onto the street. Your neighborhood was fairly nice to say the least. Everybody minded their business, especially since your house had been secluded. After your grandmother died, she left one of her houses she owned to you, making it easy for you since you dreaded the idea of having to share a dorm with someone, let alone having to get an apartment.

you placed your airpods in your ears and played Apparently by J.Cole. J.Cole had been your favorite rapper since you were 12 years old, you missed the days where your 12 year old self would dance around your room to his music, now you’re grown and responsibilities are becoming more than just making sure your chores were done. You stretched one last time before taking off.

...

Once you were done, sweat dripped from your face. your breathing was heavy and the cold water bottle in your hand had been long awaited. The sun was now out. The birds chirping got louder and the old lady from across the street was sitting in her chair with her small cat in her lap, you quenched your thirst, swallowing every last drop of water. “Good morning Y/n” She chirped. You wiped your mouth with your wrist smiling, turning towards her, “Goodmorning Ms. Rodriguez.” you reply as you waved.

You finally go back inside your house, feeling at ease. you take off your black vapor max at the door and go to your kitchen, grabbing a nutrigrain bar, you ate it before going upstairs to get ready for your classes. you took your curly hair out of its messy bun. the roots of your hair were finally breathing and it felt good. you scratched your scalp in satisfaction. you looked in the mirror, loving your features and your brown/caramel skin. you never felt the need to put yourself in the 3 categories because to you there was no need to, everybody in the community was black so why separate it into groups.

you placed the shea butter your mother made for you on your face. you took off your semi-sweaty clothes throwing them into your dirty clothes hamper and looked at yourself in the mirror. your body was perfect to most but you didn’t see what everyone saw. your thighs were too thick for your liking, especially since you did track. your breast were too big to you, they sometimes got in the way while working out. you had a 4 pack from the working out, everybody told you that you had an hour glass body but you hated it. if this what a hour glass body was, you hated it.

you took off your panties, replacing your old ones with Tommy Hilfiger ones. You grabbed a pair of black nike sweatpants that fit your thighs perfectly. You took off your bra, letting your breast breath and put on another sports bra, putting on a white t-shirt fresh out the pack. you ran chap stuck along your plump lips, they were more than plump actually if you like them so it didn’t matter. you picked out the roots of your hair leaving it’s on it’s curly state. you had dyed your hair a ginger color, which made you look like sza a little. your fro was like hers too, very big and curly.

You wrapped your apple watch around your wrist and put on some whit nike socks, along with your white air force ones. Your phone started dinging and it was the gc, you had been in with your friend group.

Mina :) > goodmorning whores. Time for class before you become drop outs.

Denki ⚡️> good morning Mina ;)

Midoriya🥬> Goodmorning everybody, i have a big test in Mr. Aizawa’s today so i have to get to studying, talk to you guys later.

Kirishima> Mornin. It’s beautiful out today, isn’t it and i’m not a whore mina.

You> yea, kirishima i’m pretty sure you got caught with cami in the janitors closet.

Iida> Mine was too, you guys need to stop texting and get to class.

You> sure, see you on the track field lida. this gc is getting deader by the day and it’s embarrassing to watch.

(seen by kirishima, Mina, and Bakugou)

lida> typing...

You shut off your phone with a smile, knowing that got him heated. You didn’t even care for his response. you loved messing with lida, it was funny, you sprayed a little vanilla perfume on your body and you were off to a place you dreaded.

...

You were now in the library studying with Mina. Mina was like your best friend, you told her everything and she told you everything. “Have you seen that picture of trey songz you know what?” she asked and your eyes went wide, in shock that she was talking about this in the library. “yes, but i can’t go crazy over it, he made the shit so corny. the whole post he made afterwards had me cringing at my phone so hard. i was like “boy what the fuck” he too old for that shit.” you told her and she giggled.

“I’m having a movie night with the rest of the group this saturday, you have to come. you never come to things with us anymore. Ever since bakugou started hanging out with us, you’ve been avoiding us. i’ve noticed some type of tension between you 2, i hope it isn’t sexual?” she stated and your stomach churned at the thought of that stuck up dummy.

“No, i just like staying to myself, that’s all. i think i’ll come Saturday as long as it’s not going to be a lot of people you know how busy i am with track and stuff.” you stated in reality you hated being around bakugo. especially since he always felt to make rude remarks towards you when everyone wasn’t around. He was normally mean to everyone, but you got it the worse since you had the shortest running time on the team. When track practice would come around you and him would argue with each other every second. you hated being yelled at or talked to badly and your mother sure didn’t raise a bitch so you talked to him just as reckless as he did to you and he hated every second of it since you were the first to ever test him. your personalities didn’t mix well at all.

“it’s only gonna be, denki, bakugo, kirishima, todoroki, asui, uruaka and deku but that’s if bakugo doesn’t mind.”

“yea, i’ll think about it.” you said softly.

...

you were now at practice and the death stares you received from bakugo made you just wanna slap the fuck out of him. His eyes followed you as you warmed up. You could see him start to come towards you and you sighed. His tall figure stood in front of you, blocking the sun, his body shaded you. “You draw too much attention.” He stated as the boys that were on the team stared at you. You were the only girl on the track team so you learned to get used to it. “I know, why are you telling me this?” you asked and he gritted his teeth, “All of those boys are practically eye raping you.” he states, taking in your appearance and you sighed, “I don’t know what to fucking say. these are the only sizes in shirts they have and if my curves happen to show then so be it. it’s not like the whole thing is out.”

Sweat dripped from the side of his head, he had on a white tank top and some nike shorts with some white vapor max. a towel hung over his broad shoulders. your eyes scanned his body, you never thought bakugo was ugly, he was perfect when it came to looks. He was very tall with a slim, muscular build, and a fair skin tone. He had short, spiky, ash-blond hair that looked soft. His eyes were a sharp and bright red in color that showed his hostility. his looks fit his personality though, very cocky.

“Why do you care?” You asked and his cheeks turned a bright pink and anger came upon him, this line made him mad, “I don’t.” he replied angrily. “Well then stop telling me things i already know. All you do is bother me.” you told and his lips curved into a smirk, “Your existence bothers me, imagine how I feel.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing past him aggressively. He can be so fucking annoying. Imaging having to be on the same team as someone you hate. It’s really irritating, especially when the person is somebody as arrogant as he is. He needs to be humbled.

...

You and Bakugou were the only 2 left after practice, your coach was mad at the both of you because of what happened last week with the sub coach. Bakugou had been bothering you that day and you snapped and then you two decided to have a race on your own which didn’t turn out so well since bakugou got mad that you won in the end.

So now you and him were being forced to do “after practice workouts” with each other. You were now lying on the ground of the track floor, exhausted. Bakugou was right next to you, your chest rose up and down, your breathing heavy and your legs worn out. You looked over at him, and he looked over at you. “This wouldn’t have happened if you just wouldn’t hate me so much and accept that i’m faster than you.” you stated and his red eyes stared at your light brown ones. “Can’t blame this all on me. You hate me as well and you don’t know when to shut up. You don’t have to respond to everything i say but you do.” He said and you placed your hands at your stomach, “I’m not about to let you walk all over me like you do everyone else. Your ego is too big and i’m doing nothing but lowering it.”

“Is that what you think?” he asked and you sighed softly looking him in his eyes trying to search for anything but anger but there was no other emotion but that, his pupils did dilate once he noticed how hard you were staring into his eyes though, “It’s not what i think, it’s what i know.” you said. “i don’t understand why you are always so angry all the time. I don’t even know how you have the friends that you have. obviously that means they see past it but i refuse to. i can’t. sorry but that’s just how i am.” you stated sitting up, he sat up with you staring at you, “i don’t understand how you have friends, you are very competitive and just avoid me then. We can always hate each other from a distance.” he stated and you smiled shaking your head as you stood up.

“Can’t do that when we have the same friends and are on the same team and i’m only competitive when it comes to track. So i’ll just hate you regardless and plus you always keep your enemies close. It doesn’t matter though, i’m still faster.” you added on that last part trying to make him mad and you could hear him start to yell as you walked off and a smile came upon your lips.

There’s no way you could ever be friends with him so why even bother trying. Something about him makes your blood boil.

[sluttbuttsstuff]

La Squadra Backstory Headcanons Part 1 (GHIACCHIO AND MELONE

Since we’re probably never going to get any straight answers on their backstory, i’m writing my own for them.  Obviously, none of this is canon and guesswork

WARNINGS: none really, aside from dark themes 

GHIACCHIO:  

Came from a very large and very poor family, the youngest of many children.  

As a result, he was the last to get anything-last to get fed, last to get clothed, last to get attention.

He didn’t get the proper care he truly needed, so he had to fight and take what he really needed, or he would have to make do without.

He’s always had awful eyesight, but it wasn’t until stealing a classmate’s glasses that happened to be exactly what Ghiacchio needed, he fought the kid for them and gave him a black eye

“There, now you can’t even use them, they’re better off with me!”

Despite getting into a lot of fights, School was actually something of a sanctuary for Ghiaccio.  

He got the attention he needed, he was able to get free food through the lunch program, and excelled in several sports activities and physical Ed.

During middle school, under encouragement of a favorite teacher of his, he dedicated himself to his studies, and enrolled in as many extra curricular activities as he could stomach.

With his impressive physical fitness, natural intelligence, and a little anger management, his teacher convinced him he could get into a good college with a full scholarship that he wouldn’t otherwise be able to get into

Ghiacchio wasn’t always as loud, angry and violent as he was in La Squadra, but he did have issues with anger management, an inferiority complex, and a self-sabotaging need to always be right.  

But his teacher, now his mentor, never gave up on him.  He took Ghiaccio to therapy, gave him a shoulder to lean on, and served as the support he never got from his parents or siblings.

His family had no interest or desire to get involved with his life, or offer any support or encouragement.

School was tough- it was extremely stressful and he was pushing himself to his limits.  He had very little sleep, had to maintain a 4.0 grade average, but despite it all, Ghiacchio was very happy.

His mentor was like a father figure to him, without him, Ghiacchio wouldn’t have been able to get as far as he did.

And then the worst happened.

His mentor died naturally, of a heart attack, he was an older gentleman with a history of heart disease in his family.

It still broke Ghiaccio.

He skipped school for the first time in years to attend his funeral, and ended up getting in a fight with one of his teachers at school the next day.

Ghiacchio and his teacher argued over the correct pronunciation of a word, but really Ghiacchio was angry at his teachers and school-hell, the WORLD- that no one else had been at his mentor’s funeral.  He felt like no one cared about his mentor, and that included him.  

He broke the teacher’s nose, as well as several other bruises and nearly gave him a concussion.

Obviously, he was expelled from school after that, and sent to a juvenile prison.  He was able to finish high school in juvie, but no university or sports team wanted to sponsor him or offer him a scholarship. 

 It is his greatest regret, not being able to get the scholarship he and his mentor worked so hard for

But at the same time, he doesn’t regret attacking his other teacher and leaving school; he couldn’t stand by and let his mentor’s memory be forgotten, besmirched.

He would be picked up by Passione through the juvie system, he kept getting into petty fights with others and managed to impress some soldatos into offering him initiation.

I like to think that his strict grammar pet peeve stems from his mentor, who taught italian grammar and literature studies, and as a result was especially strict with teaching Ghiacchio proper italian.

The ice theme for his stand?  Yeah, it’s funny because he’s a hot head, but i think it’s his stand, as an extension of his mentor’s teachings trying to literally “Cool” him down.  He has to use a lot of focus to use White Album properly, just like how his studies and athletics would distract him from his own mental health issues.

At least, this is just what I think lol

MELONE:

Hoo-boy, this kiddo has to have had some serious  family issues

His father was the head doctor at the most prestigious fertility clinic in Italy

(He was also secretly into eugenics, and lots of other nasty stuff, but let’s get into that later)

He was so successful, he had even cured his own wife’s infertility

At least, that’s what he had everyone believe

Secretly, Melone’s father had had an extramarital affair with his secretary, who became pregnant and had Melone.

Under extreme threats and blackmail, Melone’s father managed to take Melone away from his biological mother, and convince his wife to raise Melone as her own.

Needless to say, Melone’s father was a very bad, manipulative man

Despite this, his wife had always wanted a child, and actually loved him and cared for him deeply, and Melone became her child as much as his biological mother

Melone’s father was very strict and had high expectations of Melone from a young age.

Melone had private tutors, a personal chef and nutrition plan, and even a physical fitness teacher who would regularly exercise him.

Melone had no other siblings, surprisingly, despite his father’s obsession with eugenics and breeding.  

His father must have been afraid of the possible scandal that would arise from an affair or divorce (italy is still a heavily catholic country after all) and his wife, Melone’s “adoptive” mother was still barren,

Since Melone was an only child, home schooled and surrounded by paid lackeys of his father, he was very lonely.  

His mother was his one and only real friend in his life.  She would sneak him dessert snacks, read him fairytale stories if he got tired of his textbooks, and even played games like jump rope and hide and seek with him.

The entire reason his “Adoptive” mother had married his father in the first place was because it had been her lifelong dream to have children, and she was determined to give Melone all the love his father couldn’t and wouldn’t.

And that was life for a long time- it wasn’t the best childhood but Melone couldn’t really complain.  His father kind of scared him, but at the same time he earned Melone’s respect.  

Melone was interested in Biology, and learning about genetics like his father.

And when the stress of living up to his father, and his own, expectations became too hard, he could always run to his mother.

Then, Melone’s biological mother found him

Melone’s biological mother had never really gotten over losing her only child, and despite the monthly salary and isolated home she had received for her silence, she couldn’t forget about Melone.  

It started innocuously enough, clipping out pictures she saw of him and his father from the clinic’s advertisement brochures, watching him from afar play at the beach with his mother on vacation.  

But it wasn’t enough- she couldn’t just GIVE UP her child.

She started to stalk him, taking photos of him playing in his backyard, going through the garbage to find old school projects and tests in the trash can.  She would try to sneak into the house, bribing guards and getting in fights with the tutors trying to get into Melone’s home.  

Melone didn’t know the whole story between his parents and this “Surrogate” (he had been sworn to secrecy by his mother, knowing it was important to tell adopted children early on or risk causing severe trauma later in life)  but he knew his parents were becoming more and more stressed out.

One day, it came to a head, and Melone’s biological mother successfully was able to meet Melone.  

Melone was a little afraid at first, but his other mommy was so nice to him, and gave him lots of hugs and love like his other mom and played with him at the park.  

They actually had a really fun time together, and it had a lasting impact on Melone for the rest of his life.

But all good things have to end, and for the first time in his young life, Melone was confronted with death.  

Eventually, Melone’s bodyguards (his father had employed some after finding out about Melone's biological mother stalking him) caught up to them, and Melone and his mother tried to escape.  

Melone’s other mother was with the bodyguards,and when Melone saw her, he was unsure of what to do.

He loved both of his mothers, he wanted to stay with both of them, why were they making him choose?

Under His father’s orders The bodyguards, who Melone later found out were associated with passione, shot his biological mother.  Terrified Melone would be shot as well, his adoptive mother dove in front of him to protect him from the bullets.

Both of his mothers were shot, his father had ordered them to kill the bio mother no matter what, even if Melone got shot.  Apparently, MElone’s father would rather risk his son’s life than let his bio mother escape with them and risk the scandal.  Knowing this, his adoptive mother was shot and killed protecting him.  

On that day, Melone lost both of his mothers, the most important people in his life, all because of his father.  

It took a long time for Melone to process what happened-his father didn’t help things either.  He was just as cold and clinical with Melone as ever, and with no one who truly cared about him in his life, Melone withdrew more and more into himself and his studies.

He was civil with his father, and maintained his studies and health, until he officially turned 18.  

After years of planning, he poisoned his father in his sleep and killed him.

The Police were never able to press charges or find any evidence on him, but Passione noticed, and saw potential in him.  

They gave him an ultimatum, pass initiation and join their ranks, or get turned into the police by passione and get his inheritance stolen by the gang.

Without much of a choice, Melone agrees, and finds he actually likes life in la squadra

It goes without saying, his mothers were a huge influence in both his life and his stand.

Both of his mother’s lives were so sad and lonely because they couldn’t have a child.  

He desperately wishes he could have used Baby Face on his mothers, either not realizing or not caring about the implications.

Despite his mother’s best efforts, Melone never really had proper social interaction as a child, and it seriously screwed him over in life, even interacting with la squadra. 

 He’s read up on how to behave in public, social psychology, but it's not the same as learning as a child

It’s easier to learn those things as a child, which is why he makes sure to spend at least a little time with each Baby Face on how to behave and treat others; at least they can succeed where he couldn’t.

It’s also why he can’t control himself around women- he thinks he’s genuinely helping them by giving them children or getting them pregnant.

He’s giving them what his own mothers couldn’t

And you can BET he takes his role as father VERY seriously- you saw how he taught and trained Baby Face in canon.  He’s intense, but he’s also a lot more loving than his own dad was.

I’ll admit, this backstory is a little bit “Soap Opera” but I think it still fits him

[makeste]

if there is a timeskip, how far ahead do you think horikoshi will move along the story?

okay, so... I sat here for a while trying to work out how to phrase this less harshly lol, but I think I’m just gonna be blunt: I really, really hope that Horikoshi does not give us any kind of timeskip. there are precious few things that could potentially push me to quit this series, but a timeskip is one of them. I’m not saying that to be dramatic, I’m saying it just as a fact, because it’s happened to me multiple times before. in my experience, nothing else out there ruins a story as easily or effectively as a timeskip.

but let me try to break down and explain my loathing of them a bit more in depth.

1.) they make it so the audience misses out on character development. this is probably the thing I hate the most about timeskips. so here’s the thing; there are two different kinds of shounen timeskips. the type where the characters (mostly) stay together throughout the timeskip (think Naruto), and the type where the characters split apart during the timeskip (think One Piece). and I hate both of them equally, and let me explain.

I am reading the series because I am invested in the characters and their relationships. I want to see these relationships grow and evolve. timeskips make that impossible, because the whole point of a timeskip is that it skips right over everything so the audience doesn’t get to see it. and so, if the characters stay together during the timeskip, that’s a huge chunk of time during which their relationships are continuing to evolve, and the audience is missing out on all of that. that’s like starting a book and then finding that the entire middle section of it is blank. like, sorry about that, we decided this part wasn’t important enough to write down. if you’re lucky we might show you little bits and pieces of what happened during flashbacks, but otherwise you’ll just have to deal with it. boooo.

on the other hand, if the characters all go their separate ways to train on their own during the timeskip, then in a way that’s even worse. like yes, we’re technically not missing out on any relationship development, because no relationship development is even happening. those relationships are just put on hold for the duration of the timeskip. like, to use One Piece as an example, that means that the crew was together for like six months or however long, and then they all split apart for two whole years. they were apart for four times longer than they were ever together as a crew! like, you brought this found family together and bonded them so strongly only to rip them apart again?? for two years?? and for what! so that they could become boringly overpowered?? well, speaking of --

2.) they make fights predictable and/or disappointing. now for me, this one isn’t quite as bad as the character development one, but that’s mostly because I don’t care about fights as much. that said, post-timeskip fights are usually a dime a dozen, and I hate it. because here’s the thing: the whole purpose of the timeskip was to power up the character offscreen, so that they come back ready to kick more ass. which is great in theory, but in practice, post-timeskip fights tend to feature one of two brands of disappointment. either the protagonist character powered up so much that they easily win the fight, or else they still struggle even after all of that training and effort. the latter is just frustrating, because it’s like, so then what even was the point? but meanwhile, the former is also disappointing in its own way, because there’s no challenge anymore. yes it’s cool for like two seconds, but then what? if all I wanted was to watch someone reliably and effortlessly kick ass all day, I’d go become a fan of a bandwagon sports team. for me, the appeal of shounen is that the characters are learning and growing and struggling. if you make it easy for them then where’s the fun in that? if your character no longer faces any real obstacles then it stops being an interesting story.

and last but not least, 3.) they change the tone of the series (usually for the worse). so this one is interesting because this is one of the main reasons why a lot of people advocate for timeskips in the first place. ‘they help to make the series more mature’, or something along those lines. people are interested in seeing what kinds of storylines would open up with an older, more experienced cast of characters.

except that when people say more mature, what they usually mean is one of two things. either more romance, or else darker/grittier story content (read: more character deaths). which, just speaking personally, I have approximately zero interest in either of those things. if I wanted a grimdarker shounen series I’d be reading Attack on Titan instead. if I wanted more romance, I would read... well actually don’t really know what I’d read lol, because that’s kind of the point I’m trying to make here -- I don’t read romance, because I’m not interested in it (insert aromantic disclosure here). as an element of a more complex story, sure, that’s fine. but as a focus, I’d just as soon not. nine times out of ten I will lose interest in it. that’s 100% a personal preference there of course, but yeah.

anyways, but the point is, I started reading this coming of age story about teenagers at a superhero academy because I like coming of age stories! I like reading about younger characters and their adventures, learning about themselves and the world around them, making mistakes and getting stronger and the like. this is a specific genre that has a specific appeal to me. there’s an idealism and an optimism inherent in it, and I really don’t want the series to go changing that up. especially if there’s no need to change it up. which imo there really isn’t. as it stands, BnHA is already an unexpectedly mature story in a lot of ways, and it’s already exploring a lot of darker and more complex themes as it is, and doing an excellent job of it imo. basically, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. most of the time you’ll just end up ruining what was so appealing about the series to begin with.

so yeah! thus concludes my impromptu rant post about timeskips lol, and I’ll just belatedly add in a disclaimer as well that this is just my own opinion of course, and ymmv. but for me personally, I think that shounen series in particular rarely come out better after a timeskip (in fact I can’t think of any off the top of my head to tell the truth). also in BnHA’s case I really don’t think there’s any need for one at all. maybe if we get another short one, like the three-month timeskip that took place just before the start of this arc. but even then, there is just so much going on currently in the manga that it would feel weird to just fast-forward through it. TomurAFO is still on the loose. Dabi just blew up hero society as we know it. All Might is prophesized to die in the near future. the entire Billboard Top Ten was pretty much wiped out. and so on and so forth, and that’s not even getting into all of the character development that recently took place.

it just feels like things are too chaotic right now to skip ahead very far. I want to see what’s going to happen in the immediate aftermath of all this. and I don’t feel like the villains will leave the heroes alone to recover for very long. like, I can’t really figure out where someone would even put a timeskip, I guess is what I’m saying? there’s nowhere that feels natural. I could see them skipping a few weeks ahead maybe, but no more than that. anything more, and one has to assume that Tomura simply comes back to wipe out the rest of the heroes and/or the world lol. unless they shove him into another cryotube or something, I suppose.

so yeah, I think we’ll either get a very short timeskip or none at all. at least I am keeping my fingers crossed for as much. I don’t think it needs to happen or should happen. again, ymmv, but at any rate that’s my answer.

[mizunetzu]

PART 3 OF ITS YOUR FAULT PLS !!!! I LOVE IT EKDBJSHD

Well since y’all asked so nicely-

——————

Kuroo x reader - it’s your fault (pt. 3) (final)

⚠️warnings - angst

Pronouns - male, he/him

part 1 can be found here!

part 2 can be found here!

——————

Sports sucks. That’s what Kuroo knew about (y/n), yet he still egged him on to play volleyball with him. He had a choice to say no, which was what younger him was hoping for, yet he still did it in hope of gaining his affection.

All his life he thought he was annoying. All his life he’d been in the mindset of how annoying he was, and how blissful it would’ve been for him to just disappear off the face of the earth.

So when (y/n) suddenly stopped showing up to practice, Kuroo didn’t expect himself to get worried.

He was starting to miss all the clingy touches, or the ‘good morning, Kuroo-kun!’ every single morning practice. He didn’t realize how quiet the walk was to his classes, or to and from home, when (y/n) wasn’t there to fill the noise on random things he found cool or how his day was. He didn’t know how expensive the drink (y/n) religiously bought him from the vending machine was, even though he bought him the drink with a smile plastered on his face like it was nothing.

“Oh, (y/n)? He quit the team.”

Kuroo dropped the volleyball he was holding. He’d gone up to coach nekomata to ask where (y/n) was, and why he wasn’t showing up to practice. But he was regretting asking in the first place. Nekomata gave him a sympathetic look.

Kuroo picked up his volleyball, gave him the best smile he could afford, and walked away. Why was he so devastated? Why did his heart feel like it sunk into his stomach? Why was his chest hurting like that? He should’ve been glad that (y/n) was finally gone.

So why does his heart hurt so much?

————

Kuroo figured he’d stop by his apartment to see what was going on. It’s been weeks, yet he couldn’t find him anywhere in his classrooms, and he nor Kenma could reach him on his phone.

When he walked up the stairs, looking for the ever familiar door to his apartment, he was nervous. For once in his life when going to talk to the boy, he was nervous. It wasn’t a good feeling, he never felt nervous to talk to him before.

When he noticed the door slightly ajar, he clutched the apology basket of sweets in his hand tighter. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to apologize for, though. Maybe for yelling at him, or maybe for something else.

“...hello? (Y-y/n)?” When he opened the door, he was met face to face with construction workers, and a blank apartment. Kuroos heart stopped beating. A man, who Kuroo believes was the apartment owner, looked at Kuroo, to his schools jacket, and down to his basket saying “I’m sorry (y/n) :(“

“Oh? Are you here for that (h/c)-haired kid?” Kuroo nodded vigorously.

“Sorry bud. He moved out a few days ago.” Kuroo couldn’t hide the devastated frown from tugging at his lips. He mumbled a small “sorry” and spedwalked out of the building.

He spammed (y/n’s) phone, probably texting more than he ever did his whole life combined, with “where are you’s” and “hey look I’m sorry, okay? Please answer me’s”

None of them were even read.

Kenma didn’t react well to knowing one of his best friends moved away so suddenly. Unlike Kuroo, (y/n) was good friends with him, practically attached to the hip. When Kuroo told him he couldn’t find (y/n) at his apartment, Kenma clutched his ds harder and glared at the screen like it was it’s fault for making him disappear.

But as much as Kenma blamed the ds, they both knew it was Kuroos fault.

———

Kuroo strived to be a better person. He came to terms with his feelings for (y/n), and how he could never repeat his mistake again.

He grew to love (y/n), and he messed it up so bad.

He’d be sure to never lead anyone on again, minus when he’d lead his team to victory as their new captain. He’d try and hold less grudges, tell someone when he doesn’t like them, as to let them down easy instead of blowing up in their face, and even bought his team snacks and filled up their water bottles during practice.

Kuroo walked around the unknown streets of miyagi, scanning his eyes for a mop of bleached hair. He knew Kenma got distracted on his phone, but this was excessive, even for him.

Eventually, his eyes landed on two bright figures. Kenmas usual bright blond hair, and a tuft of orange next to him.

“Kenma!”

Kenmas head whipped up, and he shut off his phone, but then a flash of (h/c) came into his peripherals. He looked a little further down and locked eyes with someone who made his throat close up.

(Y/n).

He looked older. Not in the way that he looks physically older, but he carried himself with a somewhat mature, grown stance that made Kuroo so a double take. His hair was slightly longer and he was wearing a black team jacket instead of the red Nekoma jacket he used to wear. Shocked (e/c) colored eyes morphed into an expression of pure resentment, making Kuroos shocked happiness short lived. Kenma walked up next to him, about to ask what happened when Kuroo turned his head away, walking with his head down.

Kenma waved bye to Hinata, when his eyes landed on (y/n). He was talking to a silver headed guy, with a distasteful frown directed at Kuroo. He didn’t say anything though, just ducked his head and walked beside his captain.

———

(Y/n) kept his eyes fixed on the ground, as Nekoma and Karasuno stood in a line, facing eachother. Kenma was practically standing in front of him, shocked to the core, but also averting his gaze. Not just because (y/n), but Hinata next to the boy was staring at him with his mouth agape.

Eventually everyone filed into the gym, Hinata stopping Kenma to talk, while taketora eyed him menacingly. (Y/n) side-eyed the little interaction with an unwanted jealousy. He wanted to talk to Kenma, he WAS his childhood and best friend. But it soon dissipated when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

That jealousy turned into hatred.

“Can we talk, (y/n)?”

(Y/n) slapped Kuroos hand away and stepped past him, pushing him back slightly with his shoulder.

“Don’t call me that. You have no right. It’s

(L/n).”

Kuroo watched as (y/n) stepped into the gym, his lips pressed into a fine line.

—————

(Y/n) sat on a bench in the corner with an obviously closed off aura, watching as people set up the net or the players from both schools talked to eachother. He walked as Kuroo shook hands with Daichi, not noticing the mop of bleached hair sit himself next to him. (Y/n) flinched when he felt something brush his shoulder.

He whipped his head around to find Kenma, sitting right next to him, but looking straight in front of him. He said nothing, and fiddled with his fingers. Guess he didn’t change, even after a new school year.

(Y/n) relaxed a bit and went back to stalking his team and old teammates with a somewhat less intimidating aura. They sat in heavy silence for what seemed like forever, until (y/n) coughed into his Karasuno jacket.

“S-so how you been Ke-“

“So you’re just not gonna tell me why you left?”

Kenma was looking straight at (y/n), with his normal, neutral gaze. It looked like his normal face, but (y/n) knew how hurt he was. He understood, though. He would be hurt too if his best friend moved without saying goodbye.

“I’m...I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

More silence consumed them. Sounds of sneakers squeaking and the rustle of the net being hung up seemed to vanish under the cloud of quiet sheltering them. Kenma stood up.

“I’m not mad. But I know why you left. And I’m not saying it’s a stupid reason, but you should talk to him.”

Kenma walked away without another word, leaving (y/n) to trail his eyes over to his old teammate, now captain. The frown that summoned up on his face came naturally, despite taking Kenmas words to heart.

He also stood up, brushing himself off and turning his cheery attitude back on. Why play a game with a frown when you’re about to destroy your old team?

—————

(Y/n) wasn’t mad he lost. He was actually quite satisfied with ticking off some of his old teammates by receiving spikes or feints no one saw coming. He sort of felt like an inside man. A spy even. It wasn’t enough to secure a win, but (y/n) never really cared for that.

Everyone was bidding their new friends goodbye, or just idly standing by. He promised Kenma to unblock his number, but only if they never talked about Kuroo again. (Y/n) knew he was being petty, but if it meant never talking to that piece of shit again, so be it-

“Stop ignoring me.”

Speak of the fucking devil. (Y/n) didn’t turn around, choosing to clutch the edge of his black jacket instead.

“Then stop trying to fix a friendship that never existed, Kuroo.”

“Oi!” Kuroo grabbed onto (y/n’s) shoulder harshly, pulling him back and making him stumble a little. (Y/n) pried and clawed at Kuroos iron hard grip. As much as he hated to admit it, he missed Kuroos touch, a lot.

“Can we please have a civilized fucking conversation? I’m fuckin begging you here!”

“Stop fucking cursing and let go of me you fuckass scheming bitch!”

(Y/n) swung at Kuroos head, but avertedly missed. He wasn’t sure if he missed on purpose, or if Kuroo ducked. Kuroo grabbed onto (y/n’s) waist, earning a choked squeak, and hauled him over his shoulder. Kuroo looked for a secluded area, ignoring the fists digging repeatedly into his back and the confused stares he got passing by his team and (y/n’s) teammates.

Kuroo practically threw (y/n) off his back, him stumbling down and hitting the back of a wall a bit harshly, and trapped him between his body and the wall. Both of his hands were on either side of (y/n’s) head, and his legs were long enough to trap him in if he tried to escape.

(Y/n) shrunk back into the wall ever so slightly, but kept the scowl present on his face. Kuroo pursed his lips and sighed.

“(Y/n)-“

“Let me go. I don’t wanna tal-“

“GODDAMNIT (Y/N) IM BUSTING MY BALLS HERE TO TELL YOU THAT IM SORRY!” Kuroo slammed his hands against the wall again, earning a surprised flinch from the smaller boy. “FUCKING LISTEN TO ME! PLEASE!”

Kuroos eyes softened a bit when he finally met eyes with (y/n’s) petrified form, cowering against the wall with his arms tucked in shakily. (Y/n) was quick to push past Kuroo though, diving past him and turning around, free from the wall.

“You see-this is what I fucking hate about you! You act so slick and perfect to the point where you lead people on to think they mean something important to you! I wanted to be a writer, Kuroo! I gave that up to spend my time bouncing a fucking volleyball around with you, and what did I get?! Nothing! I only did it for your stupid friendship, yet I didn’t even get that!”

(Y/n) practically had steam rolling out up his ears, and his words dripped with pure hatred with each retort. Kuroo opened his mouth to speak, but (y/n) beat him to it.

“So if you really want to apologize, give me back the blood sweat and tears I wasted on this stupid volleyball shit!”

(Y/n) punched at Kuroos chest with trembling hands. He kept punching and hitting Kuroo until Kuroo gently grabbed his wrists and pulled him into a hug. Kuroo felt him balling his fists into his back, trying to push him away, but he knew he was stronger. (Y/n’s) mouth was muffled by the cloth of Kuroos shirt, yet he still kicked and screamed at the top of his lungs.

“LET ME GO! I WANT MY CHILDHOOD BACK! I WANT ALL THE YEARS I COULD’VE BEEN WRITING OR LITERALLY BE DOING SOMETHING I ACTUALLY FUCKING LIKE BACK! ITS YOUR FAULT! ITS YOUR FAULT THAT MY ARMS HURT EVERYDAY! ITS YOUR FAULT I GAVE UP ON WRITING! ITS YOUR FAULT! I HATE YOU! I HATE VOLLEYBALL! I FUCKING HATE YOU! I hate you! I-I hate...I....”

Yelling turned into incoherent sobs as (y/n’s) punches died out into love taps. Kuroo said nothing, rubbing circles onto (y/n’s) back, who finally gave up and weakly wrapped his arms around Kuroos waist. He stained Kuroo with his salty tears, choking out half assed “let me go”s in between hics and sobs like a broken record.

They stood like that in comfortable silence, Kuroo combing fingers through (y/n’s) hair while the smaller boys sobs turned into occasional sniffles. Kuroo rocked gently from side to side, attempting to calm him down until he was ready to talk.

“I just wanted to be your friend, stupid Kuroo...” his words were barely understandable through the cracks and sniffles of his voice-also being muffled by Kuroos chest-but the taller boy heard every word as clear as day. He rested his chin on top of (y/n’s) head, looking off to the side.

“Sorry. If it means anything, I was stupid enough to hold a childhood grudge against you. You did nothing wrong. I just...i was dumb and disliked you because I thought you were lazy and annoying even though you were anything but that and...yeah. Sorry.”

Kuroo pulled away from the hug, the cold air hitting (y/n) like a truck. He silently whined at the loss of contact, wiping away stray tears with his team jacket. Kuroo awkwardly held his hands behind his back, his tongue suddenly feeling too big to fit comfortably in his mouth.

“...I’m sorry too.”

(Y/n) averted his gaze, his eyes half lidded and puffy from crying. Kuroo looked at (y/n) with a blank expression.

“Why?”

“For um...being annoying or something. And like...bitching a lot. I’m sorr-.”

Kuroo grabbed hold of (y/n’s) shoulders and shook him violently. “Don’t apologize! You don’t have anything to be sorry for! It’s my fault! Let me take the blame!”

“God shut up you’re gonna make me cry again.”

“...sorry.”

Kuroo looked like a kicked puppy, which made (y/n) burst into a fit of laughter. Kuroos ears perked up as he was graced with the sight of (y/n) wiping happy tears off his face and clutching his stomach. It was a beautiful sight, so beautiful that it made Kuroos chest tighten.

Chuckles died out into snickers as (y/n) huffed and leaned against the wall.

“So-what are we? Friends?”

Kuroo hesitantly nodded, watching (y/n’s) face intently for any sign of protest. When (y/n) broke out into a smile, Kuroo felt like he was on cloud nine. Like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders after so long. He felt like he was flying.

“We should probably head back. I gotta go back to my schoo-“

“Yeah. Yeah that’s probably..smart...”

It was kind of bittersweet knowing you had to say goodbye to someone you just got your hands back on, but after (y/n) unblocked his number right infront of him before enveloping him in a hug, he supposed it was alright.

“Bye~! call me~” (y/n) mouthed out, stepping onto the bus. People started asking him if he was crying, or what that meltdown was about, but he just shrugged and put some earbuds in with a reserved smile.

Sports sucks. That’s the mindset (y/n) has, and probably will have forever.

But not when I’m with you.

——————

Epilogue:

“(Y/n)!” Kuroo ran up behind the boy and picked him up, twirling him around before setting him down. Tsukishima visibly gagged while Yamaguchi snickered behind him, stepping off the bus and preparing for the training camp.

“Yo! What’s up! God I missed you and your stupid hair.”

“I missed you too~”

...

“So...are we-“

“Yeah, that’s what we said on video chat right? I mean-if you meant it and all.”

“I DID!” Kuroo picked his new boyfriend up, this time placing a chaste kiss on the bridge of his nose.

“And god I love you so much.”

——————

And that’s it!! I hope you enjoyed this series!! Also thank you for 100 followers!! I’m so thankful!!

[writingpuddle]

The other night best friend and I (yes, that best friend) were riffing on trans Neil headcanons over the phone, but a realistic trans treatment of aftg gets dark real fast, so without further ado:

~The Mafia May Be Sexist (But It’s Not Transphobic!) AU ~

(tmmbsbintau, if you will)

Does this premise make sense? No, but if Nora can write about made up mafia sports, I can write a nonsense AU where transphobia doesn’t exist okay this is my party and ill be self-indulgent if i want to

We open with baby Neil, who was named after his maternal grandmother or smthg idk

Now lets say Neil is one of those “I always knew I was trans” kids

So even at a fairly young age he was like, nope this is wrong

For the most part his dad basically ignores him (what use is a girl to me???) but if he makes the mistake of getting in the way it’s the usual shit with knives and hot irons and basically Neil’s bog-standard Traumatic Childhood

His mom signs him up to play Exy to get him out of the house, and he loves it, because of course he does

Now tiny Neil may be terrified of his father

But remember transphobia isn’t real

So he when he’s about ten years old he tells his parents over dinner

His mom just puts her fork down and says that’s alright

But Nathan

Nathan

Nathan’s eyes start to glow

He has a son? Not a useless daughter?

He’s practically levitating with glee

And Neil, poor Neil, who has never had any positive reinforcement—from either parent, Mary, you’re not innocent in this—he soaks it up

Nathan puts both hands on his son’s—his son’s!—shoulders and dubs him Nathaniel

His son, his heir, his legacy

Mary takes one look at the possessive look in her husband’s eyes and thinks oh hell no

For the next few days Nathan absolutely showers Nathaniel with affection

He takes him to the hairdresser and buys him a whole new wardrobe, neglecting his mafia duties in order to dote upon his new son

It is possibly the happiest week of Nathaniel’s life

And then he wakes up in the night with his mother’s hand on his mouth and is given less than a minute to pack his things

Now he’s grown up in a criminal household; the notion of making a run for it isn’t exactly foreign to him

But it’s not until they’re in the car that Nathaniel realizes that his father is nowhere to be seen

Where’s dad? He asks

Shut up, his mother hisses, and slams the car into gear

From then on, he is never Nathaniel

His mother is 100% on board with his transition, but…not really anything beyond that

After all, people will be looking for a woman and a trans boy, which means Mary’s investment in Neil’s gender pretty much starts and ends with him passing as cis

She gets him all the medical treatments he needs (on the black market, since they’re on the run)—puberty blockers when he’s younger, testosterone when he’s older

But he’s never allowed to acknowledge being trans whatsoever

Not to his classmates, not to his teachers

He never gets the chance to have a queer community, or explore the nuances of his gender, because the only presentation they can afford for him to have is Masculine Cis Boy. The restriction is stifling. It’s suffocating.

Neil hates her for it

His life was, so briefly, perfect

He had his father’s love and approval for a day, a week, and he is both old enough to remember his father’s cruelty and young enough to believe that it could end

Nathan is incandescent

When he realizes what Mary has done he goes to the Moriyamas in a storm of fury

She stole my SON! He bellows

Now the Moriyama’s didn’t particularly care about Neil back when they thought he was a girl

Girls in the mafia are basically just for child-rearing, so he wasn’t a threat

So once they figure out what Nathan is talking about (this takes a sec, owing to Nathan having not previously gotten around to telling them about Nathaniel’s revelation), their first thought is that look, we might do the nepotism thing here in our family, but underlings don’t get to do the nepotism thing. Sorry, them’s the breaks

Obviously, Mary has to die—nobody’s disputing that, a woman who robbed her husband and stole his son? Only death will right that wrong—but Kengo tells Nathan that he’ll help find Nathaniel on the condition that he’s given to the Ravens upon capture

Nathan is utterly confident that his son—his son!—will perform admirably. He accepts the deal without a second thought

So they’re on the run for years and years, and Neil’s resentment towards his mother festers, but he never acts out too much, and he doesn’t contact his father

He almost does a couple times, but then he presses his hand to the iron scar on his shoulder and he can’t quite make himself go through with it

He’s sixteen when Nathan catches up with them in Seattle

There’s a shootout and Mary and Neil almost get away

But

Nathan arrives

Nathaniel! He shouts. My boy!

And Neil lurches to a stop

There is his father, walking towards him, his eyes still shining with the same fierce love and pride from when he was ten

Nathaniel, his father says. Hasn’t this gone on long enough?

Come home.

Mary is trying to drag Neil away, but he’s too fixated on his father

Can I? Neil asks. Can I really?

Of course, Nathan says. Everything is forgiven. I’ve even secured you a place on the Ravens. Didn’t you always love Exy? Come home with me, Nathaniel

Neil can barely believe it. His father is offering him everything he ever wanted. His mother has been keeping him from this, his whole life?

Why would they run?

And through this whole exchange Nathan has been getting closer, and Mary is pulling Neil back, and now he’s close enough to touch and the sound she makes is like something physical tears when she finally releases Neil and tries to flee

She isn’t fast enough

Nathan’s grin is as wide as the sun when his cleaver bites into Mary’s waist

Blood pours out

Neil screams

Mary clutches her side, staggering away, but it’s obvious she won’t make it far

Dad, no, Neil says. Don’t—

Shh, his father says. Don’t be afraid. She kept us apart all these years. She deserves to die.

And Neil—

Neil has hated his mother for most of his life

But he looks at the woman who has struggled so long to protect him—who has failed as often as she succeeded, but who fought anyway, everyday—and the man whose eyes are bright with glee at her pain

And he makes a choice

He only has a split second to see the betrayal in his father’s eyes before the pipe in his hand slams into his head and he pitches forward, unconscious

Neil does not wait to see if he survives

He grabs his mother and they run, her arm locked on his shoulder and her palm pressed to the wound on her side

Neil puts her in the passenger seat and jumps in, throwing the car in gear

You need a hospital, he says, frantic

No, she hisses, pinning a towel to her side. No hospitals

Guilt floods through him as he looks at her pale face

Sticky red handprints smear on everything she touches

I’m sorry, mom, he says, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—

Enough, she says. Drive

He drives

He drives, and drives, and he follows her instructions, and later he wouldn’t have been able to say if he actually thought she would survive; he believed it, because he had to, because he had never been without her; he knew better, because gut wounds are slow, but they are inexorable

He parks on the beach and there are tears pushing at his eyelids but he chokes them down

I’m sorry, he said, I never should have believed him. I’m sorry—

You never would have been enough for him, she says, and Neil flinches

Her hand finds his chin and she yanks him down to meet her eyes, her gaze fierce.

He never loved you, she says. He would have made you in his image, and when you failed he would have torn you apart. I would not—I would not watch him try to make my son a monster. Don’t—don’t waste it

Mom, what are you saying—

Promise me, she says

Promise you won’t go back to him

She is dying

Neil can’t refuse

He promises

She releases his face and her red fingerprints on his face burn like brands. He can feel them hours after the tears wash the blood away.

Her last few breaths are jagged as broken stones before she rattles to a stop, and Neil is alone

He burns her body and staggers out onto the road and he keeps moving, he keeps moving, because he knows if he stops he’ll shatter

His hesitation has cost him his mother’s life

But his action costs him his fathers love

In one blow, Neil broke the golden image Nathan had of his perfect son, and now all Nathan wants is to destroy him

He finds his way to Millport almost on instinct alone

He finds one of Mary’s contacts who can supply him with the hormones he needs to continue passing and squats in an empty house and speaks to none of his classmates

When the Exy team tryouts are announced, he goes, intending to only watch from a distance

Perhaps it is inevitable he’s sucked in

There is so little light in his life

Can he be forgiven for wanting one little spark?

The Foxes come for him in May, and Kevin doesn’t recognize him, because how would he? Even if they met as kids, Kevin never saw Neil post-transition

Wymack ends up telling him something about Kevin’s past and the truth about the Ravens, and Neil pales a little bit, remembering how his father had said he’d gotten Neil a place on their line-up and finally understanding why

And sometimes he looks at Kevin with blinding jealousy for the life Neil didn’t get to have, and sometimes he sees him nearly comatose with fear and drinking vodka like it’s water, and his stomach hurts thinking how cheerfully his father would have consigned him to the same fate

So canon proceeds and Neil still bitches Riko out on live TV, and Riko still manages to acquire Neil’s fingerprints

And would you believe that? The Foxes mouthy new rookie is [deadname], Nathan Wesninski’s brat?

Well, well, well

At the banquet Riko pokes and prods until Neil finally snaps, and as Dan drags the team away from the wreckage Jean grabs Neil’s arm and says, low and fast in French, You’ll meet with us later

Why the fuck would I do that? Neil demands

Because otherwise everyone will find out that the Butcher is your father

Neil can’t hide his flinch and Kevin’s eyes go wide

They flee the scene, but before they even reach Coach, Kevin is already rounding on Neil

Is it true? He croaks

Not now, Neil says

But Kevin reads confirmation in Neil’s deflection

I didn’t know [deadname] had a brother, he says

Now here is the thing

Names are obviously a touchy subject with a lot of trans people, and certainly with Neil in particular

But with everything that just happened, Neil is a bit preoccupied, and it’s been a long time since he’s associated himself with that name

Since before he stopped using it, truthfully

And so his response is out of his mouth before he can even think twice

“Who?”

Kevin nods seriously, because he is wise to the ways of mafia bosses, and it’s not exactly shocking that Nathan Wesninski had a mistress and a secret second child, especially considering his first child had been a girl

It’s several moments before Neil puts two and two together and realizes that he has inadvertently slipped through a perfect loophole

He’s failed his mother so many times, but at least this secret is still safe, and he clings to that

Neil’s gender doesn’t really affect his interpersonal relationships with the Foxes—he’s already changing out separately, so this isn’t even a whole other thing

It’s harder to hide his testosterone when he’s living in shared dorms, but he has everything in the safe and figures out the safest schedule to open it up when he’s sure Matt will be in class

Andrew finds out when they start hooking up

But remember transphobia isn’t real so it’s sort of more like Andrew goes to undo his pants and is like wait your dick is removeable? Okay.

And then he just gets on with it

So Binghamton and Baltimore happen as canon, and if Neil had ever harboured hopes that his father would forgive him and love him again, they’re broken for good when his father stalks in and sees him shivering and just grins

It is the smile of someone who has torn someone off a pedestal and is going to enjoy reducing them to dust

Nevermind that Nathan had been the one to put him on that pedestal in the first place

Stuart deus-ex-machinas us out of the maws of death and we end up back in that classic Baltimore scene with the Foxes, and they still claim him, and they still take him home

He tells them all about his mafia father and life on the run, and it doesn’t really click until later that he forgot to mention the trans thing

Not like he, you know, has to tell them, and being trans is hardly an issue in Exy since it’s co-ed, but it would probably be nice to see a real doctor instead of keep buying his hormones illegally

And moreover, he wants the Foxes to know him

So they hit the cabin in the mountains and everyone knows Neil doesn’t drink, but when Andrew pours him a shot, he takes it

Ooh, Nicky says, Is Neil about to start spilling his secrets?

Allison snorts. What secrets does he have left?

Uh, Neil says

Wait, Allison says. There’s more secrets????

Yeah, he says. Um, I’m trans

There’s a pause

Well, that’s no good, Allison said. We didn’t have a bet going on that

Everyone laughs, and Neil smiles, and he looks at the sunset and remembers his mother, and he remembers a life filled with hiding, and secrets, and loneliness

Bats swoop in the twilight beyond the cabin, and he turns towards the warmth and light inside, and he does not look back

[ghstandpucks]

Toe Pick ~ Jeff Skinner

Hello! Sorry I have kinda been MIA, I’ve had a lot going on personally lately. This idea came to my head though and I could not pass up writing it! I just love the fact that Jeff was a figure skater lol I hope you are all doing well and staying safe and healthy! Enjoy!

Summary: Being partnered with Jeff as a pairs team caused you both to rely on each other at an early age. When life’s ‘toe picks’ come along though, your friendship was tested. And when a toe pick later on throws you back into each others lives, will it be the same?

Warnings: None, just fluff!

Master List 

The toe pick at the front of a figure skater’s blade can either create phenomenal moments in a routine, or can bring a skater down. The sharp points can do some damage, but also give the ability to fly when tapped correctly into the ice. You can often hear figure skaters talk about toe picks, and for two kids in particular, saying “toe pick” when they stumbled became a game. On and off the ice, the two were inseparable. That was, until a ‘toe pick’ in life took them away from one another.

Past ~ 2000

           Eight-year-old Jeff Skinner was working on his flying camel, waiting for his coach to get on the ice and start his lesson. It wasn’t just any lesson today though. He was scheduled to meet a new girl who just joined the skating club, one that his coach thought would pair with him perfectly for a pair skating event. Jeff wasn’t so sure about skating with a partner at first, but then after watching a senior skating pair perform, he changed his mind. The throws and different spins that could be done with a skating partner interested him, so he let his coach talk him into it.

He had been told that the new girl had just moved to the area. You were also a single skater with promising talent and a year younger than Jeff. His coach had watched you try out for their skating club, and asked if you would be interested in pairs skating as your showman-like style was almost uncannily the same as Jeff’s. You smiled and nodded, just excited to be accepted into the prestigious club.

           As Jeff stopped what he was doing to look at the clock on the wall, he felt someone run into his back. “Sorry! Toe pick,” a giggle came from behind him. He turned and saw a girl about his age, grinning with a missing tooth off to the side. Jeff laughed to himself.

           “It’s fine. Are you okay?” he asked. He had never seen you before, and started to think you may be who he was being partnered up with.

           “I’m fine! I’m Y/N. I just moved here,” you introduced yourself. Jeff smiled, a toothy grin that matched yours.

           “I’m Jeff. Are you skating pairs?” he asked, and you nodded.

           “I was singles, but they asked me to switch when I tried out. I don’t know who I’m partnered with though,” you admitted.

           “I think you might be my new partner…” was all Jeff was able to say before his coach skated over to the two of you.

           “Jeff, I see you’ve already met Y/N. I think you two will get along great. If you’re both warmed up, why don’t we get started with the basics,” Ms. Seale said, and the two young skaters nodded. The next hour was spent learning how to stand and skate in perfect unison, the two kids fitting each other’s speed and style flawlessly, almost as if they were meant to be paired up.

           Three years later, you and Jeff were still skating pairs and about to enter your first junior’s national competition. After taking the ice for your groups warm up, the two of you waited off to the side with your coach running back and forth to see where the order of skaters was at. “Don’t drop me,” you leaned into Jeff as you always did before a performance.

           “You trust me?” he grinned at you, holding out his pinky.

           “Always,” you smiled back, wrapping your pinky around his. Pinky promises became a thing for the two of you when you first started learning lifts. You were nervous, and Jeff promised that he would never drop you. He had always kept that promise, even going as far as breaking your fall with his own body just to keep your trust. Your coach came to get you a few minutes later, and grabbing your hand Jeff led you out onto the ice. You took silver at that competition, the names Jeff Skinner and Y/N Y/L/N becoming known in the competition circuit.

           Two years after that, when Jeff was 13 and you were 12, Jeff hurt himself while doing a double axel. The two of you had just won junior nationals and were working on senior level moves. His injury caused you to pull out of an upcoming competition, the both of you devastated. “I’m really sorry Y/N,” Jeff said one evening as the two of you were doing homework together. Being skating partners had drawn the two of you close together on and off the ice. You trusted Jeff with your life, and may have formed a small crush on him over the years.

           “It’s okay J. It’s just a toe pick in the plan. You’ll heal and we’ll be back out there before you know it,” you tried to reassure him.

           “What if I don’t though?” he asked, worried this injury could be more serious than either of you were thinking.

           “Hey, do you trust me?” you asked, holding your pinky out toward him. He grinned and this time wrapped his pinky around yours.

           “Always.”

           Unfortunately, the injury Jeff sustained took a while to heal. It also caused him to choose between hockey and figure skating. Jeff didn’t want to give up on you, but he also wanted to pursue hockey. You smiled when he told you and supported him the best you could, even though you went home that day and cried your eyes out. How were you supposed to find a new partner? You and Jeff had been skating together for five years at that point, you didn’t want to start over with someone else. You tried though, and eventually found a partner that was compatible enough to compete with. Jeff would ask you how things were going when you saw each other, and you would always lie, saying things were great when really you couldn’t stand your new partner.

           Though the two of you stayed friends for a while, you always going to Jeff’s hockey games and him coming to open skate and competitions for you, you eventually drifted apart when Jeff graduated high school. You couldn’t help but feel like when Jeff traded in his toe picks for hockey skates, he traded you in as well. A few years later you closed the door on your skating career after a particularly bad injury, and the memories were all that was left of the toothless grinning boy you had first met on the ice that one day way back when.

Present Day­

           Take the job in Buffalo they said, you muttered to yourself as once again your socks were all wet from not wearing the proper foot wear and stepping in a puddle on the way to the rink. It had been years since you skated competitively, now being 27. When you graduated high school, you went to college and earned a degree in media, sticking with sports. You mainly stuck around the figure skating circuit, also finding a job as a coach to put yourself through college. A month ago, a job was offered to you at a local news station in Buffalo as their sports reporter, and you jumped at the opportunity.

           When you arrived at the rink, you changed into your tights and leggings. Skating always destressed you, and after settling in to your new place and trying to learn the ropes of the station, you needed some time to unwind. Only a few people were skating, the rink being otherwise deserted as the weather outside wasn’t the kindest at the moment.

           Stepping out onto the ice, a relaxed smile spread across your face. You mindlessly curved on your edges, letting muscle memory take over. Ever so briefly did you let your eyes close, basking in the chill of the air and the sounds of your blades carving through the ice. A moment later though, you were pulled out of your head as your blade caught a particularly deep rivet in the ice, causing you to trip forward on your toe pick. With a squeak you were almost ashamed of leaving your mouth, you fell into the back of a stranger. “Oh my God, I am so so sorry! I caught my toe pick and…” you trailed off as the stranger turned around.

           “Toe picks can be nasty, no worries,” he smiled at you, then stopped himself. It would have been the perfect romcom meet-cute, if the two of you hadn’t recognized each other in an instant. “Y/N?” Jeff asked, not entirely believing you were this beautiful woman who just collided with him.

           “J,” you whispered, shocked as well. “What are you doing here?”

           “I play for Buffalo?” he said, smiling but unsure at the moment. You were honestly the last person he expected to see that morning. Your face went red out of embarrassment. Of course you had followed his career; you knew he was in Buffalo but in the haste of your move you forgot.

           “I knew that,” you mumbled out, and blushed at his chuckle. Why was it after all these years, you could feel your crush resurfacing the second he smiled at you?

           “I’m more curious as to why you’re here?” he asked, leaning on his hockey stick.

           “Just moved actually. I’m a sports reporter now for the local Buffalo news,” you smiled at him and Jeff grinned.

           “No shit!” he exclaimed, pulling you into a hug. You gladly wrapped your arms around him, feeling at home for once in this new city.

           A week had passed and you had talked to Jeff every day of it. What started out as a “How are you settling in?” text, turned into constant messages, a quick phone call, and even a facetime when he was on the road that weekend, with plans made for coffee the following week when he was back.

           That coffee turned into lunch, which turned into Jeff taking you around to a few places and now the two of you were at dinner, having spent the whole day together. The two of you were catching up, and easily fell into your younger selves where physical contact wasn’t a big deal because you were constantly holding hands on the ice. It was as if the years had never passed, and you realized your feelings for Jeff had never truly gone away. He would smile at you, and just like that you were seven years old again running into him your first day at the rink. “Are you working Friday night?” Jeff asked as he drove you home that evening.

           “No, I’m off actually. Why?” you asked. Jeff cleared his throat, seeming a little nervous about what he was going to say next.

           “Would you want to come to my game? I can get you a ticket,” he said, glancing at you quickly. You smiled and nodded.

           “I would love to!” you said, a little too enthusiastically but it made Jeff visibly relax. “You don’t have to get me a ticket though. I can buy one.”

           “No. It’s the first pro game of mine that you’ll be at, I’m getting you a ticket,” he stated, then added, “Don’t argue with me,” as you opened your mouth to do so.

           “Thank you,” was all you said with a giggle. Jeff smiled as you both fell back into an easy conversation.

~ ~ ~

           Friday came and you were being shown to your seat at the arena by an attendant. You thanked him and sat down, waiting for the Sabres to take the ice. Looking around, you twiddled your thumbs at being right up against the glass. What did Jeff do to get you this seat? Before you could second guess coming though, the team took the ice and you immediately found your old skating partner. A few minutes later he locked eyes with you and skated over with a big grin. He tugged on his jersey and pointed at you as you smiled back at him. You had bought a Sabres’ jersey for the occasion, Jeff spotting the 53. Nodding, you turned around slightly to show him the “Skinner” across the back. If Jeff’s grin could get any larger, it would have split his face. Seeing you there at his game, in his jersey, after all these years brought back all the feelings of being young with you; leaning on you; putting his whole trust in you. The Sabres may be his current teammates, but you would always be his first teammate; his first crush; his first love.

           The game was a tough one, the Sabres barely pulling out a win. You were so relieved when the final buzzard sounded. Jeff had asked you to meet him outside the locker room earlier that day, so you made your way there. Standing off to the side, you watched some of the guys spill out to their loved ones, smiling at how familiar it all felt. You remembered in high school when you used to wait for Jeff after his games with his parents.

           A couple minutes later you spotted the slightly curly hair of the man you had grown up with. He grinned as he spotted you, and lifted you into a big bear hug once he got to you. “Congrats J! Good game,” you said into his neck before he set you down.

           “I’m so glad you came,” he said softly, and you blushed under his gaze. “I’m glad you moved here,” he whispered.

           “Me too,” you said under your breath. Jeff was about to say something when your moment was interrupted.

           “You must be the old figure skating partner Jeff won’t shut up about,” the Sabres’ captain Jack Eichel patted Jeff’s shoulder and extended his hand to you.

           “That would be me. Hope it was positive,” you tried to hide your nerves with a joke. Jeff rolled his eyes.

           “Trust me?” he held out his pinky to you like he would when you were younger.

           “Always,” you responded automatically as Jack looked on amused.

~ ~ ~

           After that evening, you went to all of Jeff’s home games that you could. The two of you were also together all the time, practically spending every free moment with each other. Two months later you were curled up into Jeff as you watched a movie at his apartment. You weren’t together, but it was obvious to everyone around you that the feelings were there. Since you were used to being physically close to him, many thought you were already together. The both of you would awkwardly laugh those comments off.

           As the movie credits rolled, you sat up and looked at the time, realizing you should probably get home as it was almost midnight. You started to unwrap yourself from the blanket on top of you when Jeff spoke up. “Don’t go,” he whispered.

           “It’s late J,” you laughed lowly.

           “Exactly. Stay,” he smiled softly, but had a serious look in his eyes. “I hate saying goodbye to you.”

           “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you smiled, slightly confused by what he said. Jeff shook his head and sat up.

           “That’s not entirely what I meant,” he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand as you took his other hand in yours.

           “Then how did you mean it?” you asked, keeping your eyes on his. Jeff sucked in his lips, looking at you thoughtfully.

           “I’ve always felt bad for choosing hockey over you; over being your partner. I felt terrible when you got hurt and I wasn’t around to stop it from happening. When we lost touch, there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think of reaching out to you, but didn’t cause I was worried it was too late. And now you’re here, and back in my life and I don’t want to make those same mistakes all over again,” he said. You squeezed his hand.

           “I hope you know I don’t blame you for any of that Jeff. You had to do what was best for you, and I’m so proud of you. Life just dealt us some…”

           “Toe picks?” he interjected causing you to laugh.

           “Yeah, some toe picks,” you said softly. The two of you sat in comfortable silence, letting his words sink in. “I don’t want to lose you again either,” you whispered, and Jeff sent you a smile that made your heart flutter. Slowly, you both leaned in closer to each other, your lips finally meeting. It was everything you ever thought kissing Jeff would be like, and so much more. As you separated, you both had the largest smiles on your faces. Slowly, Jeff stood up and pulled you along with him.

           “Do you trust me?” he asked, sweeping a piece of hair behind your ear. This time you knew Jeff wasn’t teasing when he said those words, he wasn’t just asking because you were worried about him dropping you, but asking because your relationship was about to dive into uncharted territory, and he knew that it would change everything. Though, then maybe it wouldn’t. Being “together” was simple because you had skated together for so long.

           Taking his hand, you nodded. “Always,” you said, meaning it with every fiber of your being. Jeff smiled that brilliant, infectious smile at you, and led you to down the hall to his room. That night you both fell asleep tangle up with each other, and completely in love with this figure skating boy turned hockey player that you had known for what felt like eternity.

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Prove Me Wrong

Summary: She can trust you, even if she doesn’t know it yet.

Warning: 18+ Mental Health, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Violence, Smut

Chapter 5

****** 

The presence of the weekend always raises the question of “what to do.”

You specifically don’t make appointments on the weekend or on Monday’s. The team deserves a break just like everybody else and nobody wants to do anything on Monday’s and you didn’t want to deal with the team while both you and them are grumpy.

So here you are, on a Saturday with nothing to do. 

You’d already been to the gym, you really just used the treadmill, despite all the state of the art equipment in there. Admittedly you aren’t the athletic type but you do enjoy the occasional cardio workout. 

Then you showered and made breakfast for the team which they have already demolished.

Just as you’re choosing between going for a walk and watching the next show on your Netflix list, there’s a knock at your door.

“Hey Y/N.” 

You look up and immediately smile when you see Bucky leaning into your room.

“Hey Bucky, what’s up?”

“Well Steve got tickets to a baseball game and I remembered the talks we had about the game and figured maybe you’d be interested in coming with us. If not that’s fine just, there’s three tickets and-”

“I’d love to go.” You cut him off before he can start to nervously ramble.

He nods and tells you that you’re leaving in a hour before disappearing. 

Already having showered, you pull on an an outfit you deem suitable for the event, and leave out, stopping at your office for something and then going down to the common room. 

Steve and Bucky are already waiting in the common room when you get there and you figure they gave you the hour just as a curtesy.

As the three of you head over to the garage and climb into the black SUV, you mentally admit to yourself that you’re nervous to be hanging out with them.

Despite living with them, you haven’t hung out with anyone from the team. Which is equally you’re fault and theirs. You aren’t the most outgoing person and the team is pretty intimidating. Also none of them have really reached out in that way.

You figure you’ll have to step out of your comfort zone and reach out to them.

Before you know it Bucky is pulling into a parking spot in the structure across from the stadium.

You all climb out and walk over to the venue. 

“Not gonna lie, I’ve never been to a baseball game before.” 

Both men freeze in their steps, looking over at you as if you said you just committed murder. 

“You’re lying.” Steve says, eyes still wide.

You shake your head.

The man turns to look at his friend. You hear Bucky mumble ‘I don’t know what we’re gonna do’ and you’re tempted to laugh. But you know they’re serious about this.

Quietly you watch them, waiting for them to say something else.

Except they don’t.

You quickly learn that the two are ‘Show Not Tell’ kind of guys. 

They drag you into the stadium and deck you out in Yankees merch: a shirt, a hat, a foam finger, and a cup that they promise to keep filled during the game, then buy you “classic” game day snacks. 

By the time you find your seats your arms are full.

“Guys, was this really necessary?” 

“Yes.” Bucky says instantly.“ It’s all apart of the experience.” 

“He’s right.” Steve nods.

Chuckling, you ease into your seat and start situating your snacks and drink in your lap. 

Just before the game starts you thank them both and they smile at you and say ‘you’re welcome’. 

Watching the game here in the stadium, the guys all excited beside you along with the crowd, and the surprisingly good concession snacks, makes this so much fun. 

As you’re finishing the last of your popcorn you remember what you grabbed before you all left. Digging down into your bag, you pull the four boxes out. Pulling them apart in pairs, you nudge Steve and shake them.

“Buck.” Steve taps his best friends arm excitedly, grabbing his attention from the game.

For the first time since you’ve met him, a bright smile takes over the man’s face. You can’t lie and say it’s not adorable.

He looks up at you with a question in his eyes and you immediately nod.

Both he and Steve grab the snack from you and you have the privilege of watching them open it with childlike excitement. 

It seems as though that makes the entire thing better for them. Not once do they stop smiling and laughing. 

The highlight of the whole thing comes when the Yankees hit a home run in your direction and Bucky jumps up and snatches the ball out of the air. Before offering it to you with a grin on his face. 

By the time you all get back to the compound the air that surrounds you makes you feel as though you’d known them for years. The hat they bought you sits crookedly on Bucky’s head and Steve is waving the foam finger around as you toss the homerun ball in the air repeatedly.

It’s obviously unexpected since when you all step into the common room, everyone raises their eyebrows at you. Sam is sporting a very amused grin, Vision and Wanda smiling just cause you all are, and Natasha is watching you all with narrowed eyes.

“What’s got you three smiling all hard?” Sam asks.

Steve is the first to answer,“ me and Buck just took Y/N to her first baseball game.” 

“It was so much fun! Like way better than watching it on tv.” You tell them. 

They chuckle, amused by your excitement. 

“Who won?” Sam asks.

Steve starts walking over to talk about the game and you turn to head to your room.

Bucky frowns at that,“ you’re not stickin around?” He asks.

“I am, I’m just going to put all this away.” You smile softly in reassurance.

He nods, taking the cap off his head and playfully slapping it on to yours. 

Laughing, you turn and leave. You put your souvenirs on your desk, happy to have reminders of today.

With the way Steve and Bucky kept to themselves, even more so than anyone else on the team, you hadn’t expected them to be the first people you connected with. Today had proven you wrong.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love getting to know them outside of your office. It wasn’t about all the traumas they had experienced and were dealing with. It was about their friendship, all the fun they had, and how much fun they were having with you.

And it was about you too. The men were eager to ask you questions about yourself and your preferences. You didn’t know it for sure, but the men found themselves enjoying your company more than they had anyone else in years. 

When you get back to the common room you’re expecting the conversation to still be about the game, instead you find everyone’s focus on a new presence.

The blonde woman stands in front of the group in a blue and red, possibly leather, suit. Her hands move as she speaks and her short hair sits disheveled on her head.

You’re drawn closer when a bright smile lights up her face and her voice gets louder in excitement.

Her brown eyes land on you as you come to stand behind the couch and her words falter on her lips, effectively causing everyone, who didn’t already know you were in there, to turn to look at you.

Her smile reappears,“ hi, I’m Carol.” She waves.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you Carol.” You reply with a friendly smile in return.

It goes quiet for a moment, everyone looking between the two of you.

Sam is the one who breaks the silence,“ Danvers was just telling us about her mission. You know, if you want to finish that.” He started talking to you but turned back to the blonde.

It’s almost as if she waits to see if you want to hear it to continue, only doing son after you give a small nod. She gives you a quick review of what she’d already said. 

You find yourself completely immersed in her story. The woman travels the universe for crying out loud.

The most you’ve ever seen is y/ht and New York, if that. So when she finishes and everyone breaks off to a different topic you excitedly ask the woman more about her space travel. 

All the while as she smiles charmingly and talks to you, who wears an amused smile, Natasha watches. 

She can’t dismiss how out of character it is for you to just approach someone that you’d just met. She remembers noticing how you didn’t make any efforts to engage the team until days after you’d arrived. 

In fact she knows, apart from today with Steve and Bucky which she’s still trying to understand, that you have yet to actively build a relationship with anyone. 

Natasha would never say that you were rude to anyone because you aren’t and haven’t been. You simply keep to yourself and it just so happens that you are surrounded by people who tended to do the same.

Apart from Tony, who you had a previous relationship with, and Sam and Peter, who are as genuinely outgoing as a person could get. 

That being said, she wonders why you’d chosen Carol to suddenly be invested in. 

Was it the woman’s knowledge of space?

Her inviting smile?

The confidence that seems to pour off her broad shoulders?

Or maybe her charm? No one, Natasha included, could deny that the woman was charming.

And then Natasha stops herself. She shouldn’t care. Why does she care that you and Carol are talking more now than you and she had in the months you’ve been here? Why does she care that you seem to be laughing so freely at whatever the woman is saying?

With a frown pulling her brows together Natasha tells herself that she doesn’t care. And then she’s up and out of the room before anyone can even acknowledge that she didn’t want to be there anymore.

******

taglist: @username23345 @muffliat-o  @aaron-despair @natasha-danvers  @nat-km-mh

[oxiosa]

You’ve asked me this before but because of that post I will now uno reverse card and ask for more of YOUR hcs about trouble kid Martin and stepmom Chiara, pretty please 🙏

Your wish is my command~

I imagine the first time they met was completely accidental and very awkward on Chiara’s side. She had been dating Antonio for a few weeks when he invited her over to his place, and maybe they were getting a little too cosy on the couch when the front door opened and a fucking kid came in. Chiara was shocked, to put in mildly, but the kid barely spared them a look and an unimpressed “what’s up” before walking past them. Chiara turned to Antonio silently asking for an explanation. Oh yeah, Antonio had forgotten to mention! He has a son :D

As months went by and things with Antonio got serious, I think Chiara was the one to insist on properly meeting Martín. She had meet him by passing in a rather awkward situation but Antonio had never introduced them. So they decide to organise dinner at Antonio’s place.

Tincho was neither impressed or interested on meeting Chiara. She seem a little better than the young women his father usually went for, but he knew she wouldn’t last – none of the others had. So he pretty much didn’t bother. I imagine Chiara prepared a very nice dinner so they could start all over with the right foot, and Martín pretty much went “Nah, pass. I already have plans, I’m going to Sebas’ place” and ditched them. Which of course didn’t leave the best of impressions.

I think Chiara was surprised to learn how young Martín was. Tincho always was a tall kid which made him look a little older than he already was. Also, with the way Antonio had spoken of him and the freedom and independence he gave the kid she was expecting a teen.

When Antonio and Chiara got married, she moved in and the nightmare begun :)

She was the one to put order in the house. Antonio kinda had the life of a young bachelor; he spent most of his time at work, came home late, didn’t have much work for house work. Martincito, being a kid, wasn’t very helpful either (quite the opposite), so it was pretty messy. Not just in dirty, but also as in “there’s barely food in the fridge, no one is taking out the trash, no one did the dishes, there are piles and piles of dirty clothes by the washing machine, the junk mail keeps piling up, etc etc”. She was not living in a dump, so upon her arrival things had to change.

One of the many things that had to change was Martín’s lack of respect. She had a very harsh approach at first that didn’t work out at all. She was very aggressive and abrasive at first, which only pushed Martín further away; the more she pressed on him, the more he rebelled against her. She made it her mission to put some order and respect in this house, set a bunch of rules Martín didn’t follow nor appreciate. It kinda turned into a cold war in which Chiara set rules, Tincho broke them, and she took away his privileges. She went through his things, confiscated shit, locked the front door and windows. I even imagine she went as far as taking Tincho’s bedroom door’s key and handle so he couldn’t shut himself in. All sort of shit that only aggravated wild Martín. To him, she was the Evil Stepmother.

I think Chiara didn’t have the whole picture when she moved in and started handling Martín. She had Antonio’s side of the story in which there was no issue, so Martín seemed like a nightmare of a stepson for no reason whatsoever. Antonio was a nice sweet guy, she couldn’t imagine why his son was terrible except that maybe he was a spawn of the devil. But as time progressed, she got to see first-hand how Tincho was pretty much raising himself and she begun to understand the source of his anger. I think the realisation hit close to her heart; Chiara had lived something similar, she had been a lonely neglected child angry at the world as well. She knew how Martín felt, saw herself mirrored in him, so it became personal. At first it had been about teaching this brat about respect and authority, but now it was about making it right by this kid. She felt a need to show him love and care and to give him the attention he needed, to teach him in return there were rules and an authority he needed respect so he could grow to be a better person.

She became very invested on getting closer to Tincho. She tried a different approach, tried to be smarter about it. She was still stern and harsh, but instead of butting heads with Martín she decided to remain a wall; she didn’t actively push against him, but she didn’t bulge either. She didn’t force Martín back into his place like she had tried before, instead she let him figure out on his own that there was no way past her and her rules - even if that took him slamming his head into her wall a thousand times. It was about waiting until Tinchito tired himself out and learnt to listen. It was not easy, but it had better results. Whenever Martín did as was expected of him, she rewarded him returning the privileges she had taken one by one. The peak of the rewards was her trust: she basically challenged Tinchito not to let her down, to show her he could be a good boy and play by the rules.

Martín was far more receptive to this approach, if a little distrustful at first, as if he thought she was luring him into a trap. He was not used to an adult keeping tabs on him, least of an adult asking about his day, interest, etc. He was a little hard to win, but at the end of the day he craved the attention Chiara was offering.

As I said on the post that started all these, Chiara signed him into rugby. Tincho was very reluctant at first, and the only way to get him to go was by bribing him. Chiara watches the whole thing: she sat by the bleachers with the posture of a lady and calmly observed as her stepson got turned into mush. Once it was over and Tinchito returned to her, exhausted and in pain and covered in mud, she invited him some well-earned ice cream (it kinda became their thing). I think this was one of the main milestones for Tinchito’s taming. It gave him an outlet to his energy, it gave him a team and sense of belonging, and it also taught him values, as it happens with sports. This made him a lot easier to handle, which resulted in a smoother reception to the boundaries Chiara set.

I really like the hc that she taught him how to cook. I imagine one day she caught Tincho cooking some lunch and was very much unimpressed. She asked what he normally cooked when his dad wasn’t home (aka most of the time), and she basically had to sit down upon learning this kid has been living of frozen food re-heated in the oven and pasta and junk food and the sort of thing a kid would pick for dinner if left to their devices. She threw whatever shitty frozen thing Martín was making and cooked for him, demanding he paid careful attention.

Chiara is the only one who has ever seen Martín show his true feeling about Antonio, the only one who has seen him cry about it. Maybe it was during some event Antonio missed; Chiara was there, saw the way Martín’s eyes searched for his dad and how his face fell when she told him he couldn’t make it in time. Martín tried to shrug it off, told her it was ok, he was used to it and anyways Tincho liked Chiara better, the two of them had more fun together without Antonio, all of this while his eyes filled up with tears and his smile trembled. She hugged him, let him sob like a baby on her chest while she petted his hair and kissed his crown.

She was also the one who forced Antonio to be around for his son. When she married him, she wanted to make a home and that included having Antonio in the picture. She didn’t always succeeded, but she tried.

And well then there's the one we already said: she spotted right away Tinchito's eye trailed after other boys rather than girls, also was the one who installed some sense of fashion once he was over his awkward teenage phase.

And those are kinda the ones I have, I wouldn’t mind if anyone wanted to add some more :D