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stephspurs · 4 years ago

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A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Hi besties!! here is the long awaited part 9!! I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did whilst writing it!! a big thank you goes to @emwritesfootball for proofing this part & making sure its up to scratch for all of you lovely readers! Let me know what you think babes hehehe!! Love Always, Steph xx

Part 9. | nona parte

word count; 2006. writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. next update; Friday 13/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)! tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here

The season kicked off in the middle of August and Amelia had been more than prepared for her first match in the premier league. She spent day after day analysing the players in the first team, introducing them to the magical world of rehearsed tactics. It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows for the brilliant girl; she had to learn how to implement the plays coupled with the speed of the game. But so far, so good. Chelsea have been winning and her plays have been working, the boys were getting the hang of it - no matter how apprehensive they were at the start.

Jorgi played a big part in demonstrating the success of the play, performing best in his midfield role to guide the game and direct the change in play to his teammates. By the time they had played a few fixtures, they had really gotten the hang of her approach to set pieces and began to put their trust in the young girl. They were starting to see results and wanted to keep the winning streak going while they could. The fourth fixture in the new season was one that Amelia was looking forward to, personally: Chelsea v Aston Villa, Stamford Bridge, 3pm kick off.

Jack and Amelia had grown closer and closer, FaceTime‘dates’ as Jack would call them, a weekly occurrence. She had spoken to him just as much as she had spoken to Jorgi - and they were still carpooling to and from Cobham together. Her friendship with Jack was full of easy conversation and flirtatious banter, teetering over the line of friendship but being that they were kept physically apart, the friendship line remained largely intact. One person that had drifted even further away from her, despite her believing that it couldn't be possible, was Ben Chilwell.

Every time she walked into a room that he was in, if he didn't have to be there he would immediately leave. Amelia didn’t understand what the problem was. Yeah sure, they were flirty together in Mykonos but they never crossed a line together, no matter how many times the wine went straight to their heads. If anything, she should be the one running away from him. She was the one who sent him a couple of messages here and there that he just opened. She spoke to Mason, Jorgi, Billy Gilmour - who was another one of the boys she had developed a strong friendship with - and all of them insisted they didn’t understand their friend's strange behaviour.

On the evening before the Villa match, Amelia was laying on the couch in her townhouse binge watching yet another docu-series on Netflix when her doorbell rang. This was strange, most people that came past the house these days had their own set of keys (her parents, her brother, Jorgi) or they texted to let her know they were outside. Her townhouse was three stories high, so if she was upstairs on the top level vacuuming the chances of her hearing the door were slim to none. Either way, she got up off of her loveseat and walked to the front door, peeking through the peephole - she lived in London, alone, she wasn’t opening that door until she knew exactly who was on the other side.

______________________________________________________________

“To what do I owe this visit, Benjamin?”

“Hi, Mils.”

“Wow, nickname basis already - I thought only friends called each other by their nicknames.”

“Did you think we weren’t friends?”

“Well, friends don’t treat friends the way you’ve treated me since the evening I left Mykonos.”

With a sigh, Ben looked down at his feet. I did feel a small bit of guilt for that one, but he deserved it. Continuing to find the cracks in the marble step of my door’s threshold more interesting than facing my expression, I took a step back and forced Ben to look up at me.

“Well, are you going to come inside? I’ve got the kettle on and a really good series going that I would like to get back to.”

With a charming smile, Ben took a step forward, took the door handle out of my hand and shut it behind him. Slipping out of his shoes, he followed me down the short hallway to my kitchen and pulled a seat out at the island bench.

“So, really now - why are you here? Nervous about tomorrow?” I questioned as I took two cups out of the cupboard and brewed one tea for him, one coffee for me. 3 years in Italy and coffee in the evening became the norm for me. It was my comfort drink.

“I’m here to apologise for the way I've been acting towards you for the past six weeks. I’ll be honest, I don’t know why I’ve been like this”

“Cut the crap Ben, you know exactly why you’ve been doing it. Now tell me the truth or, as far as I'm concerned, you never came here tonight and tomorrow we will be back to how we were yesterday - you running away from me and me pretending that it doesn't bother me. Even though all it does is bother me.” Not expecting that outburst to come out of me, and to be fair neither did I, Ben looked me in the eye and stayed silent, choosing his next words carefully.

“The first time I saw you, the night you told your brother off in the rec room at St. George’s Park, I thought you were the most determined woman I had ever seen in my life. Not scared of the 30 grown men who were very obviously all on the same side, literally. Then the next time I saw you, after the final match, how you comforted your brother when you were at the highest of highs and he was lower than low, I thought you had more compassion than every person in that stadium put together.”

“When you came to SGP again the next day and delivered the tactical analysis of the game you won, I thought ‘wow she is so intellectually brilliant’. And then when you turned up in Mykonos, all sunkissed and relaxed, sitting next to me and involving me in conversation with my pals but making me feel like you wanted my contribution...I remember it like it was yesterday. Amelia, you smiled at me and my heart did a somersault in my chest.”

“You shut me down outside the club that evening, and when we came back inside I caught the end of your conversation with Jorgi about Fede. Putting two and two together, I understood all that I needed to. The few days after that we carried on like normal. Then, you left and I didn't know if I would ever see you again to be fair. When you messaged me, I got too nervous to reply because I didn't know how to just be your friend. And then when I thought I had finally gotten through a day without thinking about my friend's little sister, you showed up at Cobham as my tactical analyst. I didn’t know what to do Mils, I don't know how to be just your friend when I've had nothing but unfriendly thoughts about you since the first time I saw you command that room of men you had never met in your life.”

The whistle of the kettle ringing out behind me is the only noise filling the kitchen. I’m staring at Ben; he’s staring back at me with nothing but truth behind his eyes and his heart on his sleeve.

“Benj, what you were feeling, what you are feeling is totally valid and I never want you to feel like you can’t share those feelings with me. You’re right, Mykonos changed things for me. What you were feeling was reciprocated, but Ben, I was going back to Italy. At that exact moment, I had no idea I would end up here. I thought I was enjoying a break before another high-intensity season in Italy. I wanted to kiss you so badly at the club that night, but I knew it would only hurt you. I’m used to being hurt, it's a feeling I've grown to expect. But you, you’re too pure to experience the kind of hurt that comes along with knowing you’re making a bad decision, but doing it anyway, because I wanted to be selfish with your heart.”

“Amelia, can I ask you something?” I nodded, holding my breath as I braced myself for the question poised behind his eyes. “If you were in the mood to be selfish, what would have come from that evening?”

“I can probably show you better than I can tell you,”

Walking around the island bench, I pulled the back of Ben’s chair slightly so he pivoted towards me. Standing in between his tracksuit-covered legs, I ran both hands up his arms until I got to his neck and finally beside his face. Threading my fingers through his hair, I pulled his face towards mine and our lips met. It was as soft as a butterfly kiss but as powerful as anything I had ever felt before. His hands wound around my waist and settled themselves on the small of my back before travelling down and giving my backside a gentle caress, forcing a laugh out of my lips and straight into his mouth. Pulling away slightly, so we both had a bit of breathing space to sort out our lightheadedness, Ben spoke his next words very softly.

“I need you to promise me something, Amelia.You need to promise me that you will stop thinking about my heart before your own. I am old enough to make my own decisions, and the decision to ignore you for these past few weeks has been one of the worst ones I've made in a really long time. But I did make it, and it was because I got scared, and I hurt you, and I am so sorry. The decision to come here tonight however, I feel like it more than makes up for that one very very stupid one”

“You’re such a smooth talker, Benj.”

“Say my name again, Mils, you don’t know what it does to me.”

“Down boy, your tea is going cold and I need to find out who killed Sophie in West Cork.Meet me in the lounge.”

A few hours had passed and it was nearing 10pm, well past Amelia’s bed time, but Ben was still sitting on her couch, feet on the table (despite her telling him to remove them) and arm around the back of her shoulders.

“Chilly, I don’t want you to think I'm not interested in you because I so am, I just don’t want to rush into anything. What I left behind in Italy was complicated and heavy; I'm still trying to learn how to exist without him if I'm honest. I want you to just give me the space I need to grow into my own here in the city, if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course it's okay, Mils. From what Jorgi has told me about Fede, I can understand why you want to take it slow now. But please, don’t call me Chilly. My friends call me Chilly, and Mills. I thought I made it clear before that I don’t want to be your friend.”

“To me, you’re Benj. Thank you. Wait - what do you mean what Jorgi has told you about Fede?”

“I may have asked a couple times about you, and for the record, he is team Bamelia.”

“Bamelia? That is the ugliest word I have ever heard. Never use it again.”

“How can it be ugly? It's mostly your name, and nothing associated with you could ever be considered anything less than beautiful.”

“Stop being so smooth Benj, you’re going to make me blush in a minute.”

“Good, can’t wait to see how you could possibly look even cuter than you do right now.”

“That’s enough Benjamin.”

“Okay I’m done now.”

Part 10. | parte dieci

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tryingmybestpls · 4 years ago

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Do Me A Favour (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve Rogers seeks out his ex-teammate (and ex-fiancée) as he tries to gather the team in order to reverse Thanos’s actions, but she isn’t happy to see him. (Part 2, Part 3)

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Swearing, that’s about it

Steve hadn't seen her in almost four years.

Y/N had left him and the rest of the team a year after the Snap. She didn't say goodbye to any of them, just gathered all of her things and disappeared into the night. Steve didn't realize she had left until he had came back to their shared apartment and saw that all of her things were gone. During those four years, she didn't reach out to him and if she was reaching out to anyone else on the team, they weren't telling him. It was like his teammate had disappeared off the face of the earth. He couldn't be too mad at her. Steve was the reason why she left.

Months after the Snap, he had proposed to her. She had been so excited and her happiness had rubbed off of him slightly. It seemed right, it felt right. Everyone kept telling them that it was about time they finally tied the knot. Yet, as time progressed and the severity of a post-Thanos world settled in, Steve wondered if this was actually a good idea. He didn't want to voice his worries to Y/N though. He missed seeing her this happy so Steve tried to tell himself that this nervousness would soon disappear.

Then the day of the wedding rolled around and Steve couldn't bring himself to drive to the church. His phone kept ringing as various members of the team called and texted him, trying to get a hold of him. As the start of wedding neared, Steve went down to the hall where he holds grief counseling and stayed there until the day ended. When he got back to the apartment, all of her things were gone. The only thing Y/N had left behind was her engagement ring and the wedding dress she had been wearing hours earlier.

Steve pulled up in front of the address that Natasha had given him, nervousness and guilt eating away at him. He was already confused when he pulled into the residential neighborhood, but the house he was currently parked in front of didn't help. Steve double checked and triple checked to make sure that the address was correct before he got out. He walked up the little stepping stones that lead to the cookie cutter house. She had told him that she never ever wanted to live in the suburbs, living in a house that was identical to the ones surrounded them. It was the perfect place for her to hide out.

Never in a thousand years did he think that Y/N would be living in a place like this. As he looked around, eyes landing on the carefully manicured lawn and the flowers planted in flower beds surrounding the house, he felt a sinking feeling in his gut. The thought of Y/N being married or even having children made him feel ill. Steve knew that he shouldn't feel like that at all. Y/N wasn't his, never truly ever was his. He was the one that had fucked up everything so he really shouldn't feel like this over the possibly of her being married. Steve looked up at the little cream colored two story house as he walked up the porch steps. There was a swing-like bench on one end, surrounded by various potted plants. It was all very...homey.

Steve tries his best to relax as he stands in front of the door. He swallows hard before ringing the doorbell and knocking on the the red door. Would Y/N still be pissed off at him? Most likely. She wasn't the type to forgive and forget, especially with what he did. Would she be even more pissed when she finds out he's here to try to get her to come back, to try to defeat Thanos? He was probably going back to the Compound in a body bag.

The front door opening ripped him out of his thoughts.

"What are you doing here?" Y/N asks, only peeking her head of the door. From what he could see of her, she looked good. Y/N always looked good, but the past four years have been good to her. In that last year after the snap, she lost her color. Sure, there would be times where she was happy, but as the wedding date neared and Steve continued to be distant, those moments of happiness were few and far between. Now, she looks happy, healthy. Well, she wasn't happy right now. Steve shifts slightly, looking around in her little neighborhood before looking at back at her. Y/N was glaring at him.

"Can I come in, Y/N? We need to talk." Steve tries and just as she opens her mouth, a child's head squeezes her way through the door and Y/N herself. Y/N's eyes widen and the color seems to drain from her face. Steve feels like he's been shot at the introduction of a child. What if she's moved on, had a family during this time? He would have no one to blame but himself.

"Mama, who's this?" The child asks, practically glaring at Steve. Like mother, like daughter. He didn't know that she had a kid. Natasha didn't tell him that there was a kid involved when she handed him the address, a sad look on the ex-Russian spy's face. Steve knew that she had wanted to go retrieve her friend, but someone had to get Clint. Now, he knew why she was so reluctant to hand over the address. Y/N never even mentioned that she'd ever want kids. She would always brush off the question when Steve would ask, immediately changing the subject. But then again, four years is a long time and people can change. The rest of their team surely did. Y/N muttered a curse under her breath, weighing her options in her mind. Steve is surprised when she opens the door a little more.

"Sarah, this is my coworker, Steve. Steve, this is my daughter Sarah." Y/N introduces them to each other, her hand moving to rest on the back of Sarah's head. The way she says "coworker" made Steve feel like shit, but then again, he does deserve it. He tries his best to ignore it and moves to squat in front of Sarah, smiling at the little girl. Her hair is pulled into two pigtails and she's wearing a black dress covered in white dinosaurs. Sarah is practically a carbon copy of Y/N, down to her hair and features. The only thing that's different about Sarah is her eyes. She has bright blue eyes that seem vaguely familiar, but Steve can't quite place them.

"Hi Sarah. It's nice to meet you." Steve tries, holding out his hand. The little girl moves to hide behind her mother, holding onto Y/N's leg. Steve's smile fades and he puts his hand down, moving to stand back up. Y/N doesn't even bother to look at him as she guides her daughter back into the house.

Steve is greeted by the evidence of her changed life. Children's toys litter the grey colored wood floors and pictures of mother and daughter cover the walls. Not a single picture of his teammate from anytime before the four years she's been gone, but there was pictures of members of the team and her. A picture of Natasha, Y/N, and Sarah here. A picture of Tony, Morgan, Y/N, and Sarah there. No evidence of any sort of father figure. The smell of pancakes and coffee hang in the air. This is a home.

Time travel and Thanos are a million miles from his mind now. All he could think about is that Y/N, the woman he was supposed to marry, has a child.

"No talking business around her. Please." Y/N announces as she walks further into the house, Sarah following hot on her heels. The blonde wonders if someone had tipped her off that someone from the team was coming or maybe she just knew him too well and knew that he wasn't here for personal reasons. Either way, Steve feels the immense tension hanging in between them and gives mother and daughter both a little space as he takes in the house. It looked almost normal.

"Of course." Steve replies as he follows them into the kitchen. Sarah is already sitting at the island, looking at him as her mother sets a plate down in front of her. Steve stands beside the fridge, leaning slightly on the wall. He doesn't know exactly what to do, everything feels awkward. Y/N has a kid. Y/N has a kid.

"Sarah, it isn't polite to stare. Now eat your breakfast." Y/N scolds softly, no anger present in her voice as she speaks to the child. Sarah turns her attention to her mom as she picks up her fork.

"I sorry, Mama. 'teve eat?" The little girl asks and Y/N glances at Steve, who is smiling at how the little girl pronounced his name. His smile melts away as soon as he meets Y/N's eyes Anger is still deeply etched into her face, no matter how much she tries to mask it.

"I'm okay, Sarah. Thank you for asking though." Steve quickly fills in and Sarah nods, seemingly pleased with his answer. Y/N crosses the room, moving past her old teammate to go over to the living room. She turns on the tv, switching the channel from the news to some cartoon. A distraction.

"Baby, Steve and I are going to my office, okay? If you need anything, come get me." Y/N tells her daughter. Sarah just nods in response, her focusing going to the mess of bright colors and shapes on the television. Y/N motions her head for Steve to follow her as she walks out of the room and down the hall. She opens a door, flipping on a light. This is room is a sharp contrast to the rest of the home. It's cold and uninviting. Big, flat white cabinets line the walls, filled with God knows what. Steve wants to smile at her 'home office' because it's like she brought her weapons room from the Compound home with her.

But the look she is giving him keeps the smile off his face. Y/N's about to open her mouth, to question him no doubt, but Steve cannot help what flies out of his mouth. He just has to ask.

"Why didn't you tell me you had a kid, Y/N?" The Captain questions, his eyes softening as he looks at his ex-fiancée. Y/N leans against the table in the center of the room, crossing her arms over her chest. She no longer trying to mask her anger.

"You weren't in my life, Rogers. Why would I tell you that I had a child if we aren't speaking?" Y/N retorts, shrugging her shoulders like it wasn't a big deal. They both know that this is a huge, colossal deal. There's stomach acid in Steve's throat and he feels like he's going to throw up as he forces out his next question. He is dying to know, but he dreads the answer.

"Who-"

"Don't ask me that." Her voice is ice cold as she shakes her head, "Please, don't ask me that."

That's when it slowly starts to dawn on Steve. He swallows the bile down in his throat as he takes a step towards her. Her angry facade is cracking as tears brim her eyelids. Her carefully built world is crumbling down around her and there isn't a thing she could do about it.

"Y/N, how old is she? Just-Just tell me how old she is." Steve's practically begging as Y/N looks away. She's fiddling with the necklace she has on, moving the pendant side to side on the rose colored chain. It feels like an eternity before she decides to speak again.

"Three. Sarah-She's three." Y/N finally speaks, looking back at him. It's like Steve's heart shatters in his chest and he has to lean against the wall for support. Steve Rogers isn't as smart as the others on his team and math has never been his thing, but it doesn't take him long to do the math in his head.

"Were-Were you ever going to tell me?" Steve asks as Y/N chuckles drily. The smile that's on her face doesn't reach her eyes.

"Of course I was and then you left me at the altar. Forgive me for not wanting anything to do with after that." Her tone was full of bitterness as she looks at him, "I was going to tell you that day-God, I was so fucking excited and then you just didn't show up. That's when I realized your priorities were greatly skewed and that you didn't really care about me anymore."

"That-That's not true, Y/N." Steve starts and the woman scoffs.

"Really, Rogers? You weren't even fucking talking to me anymore. You only came to me when you wanted to relieve a little stress. Why you asked me to marry you is besides me." She snaps, her words full of poison, "I wasn't about to bring a kid into the mix."

"So what? You were just going to hide away here forever? Never tell me that I had a kid?" Steve responds, motioning to the door. He's clearly angry at the woman in front of him. Y/N chuckles.

"You know what hurt the most about you leaving me at the altar? You didn't even call. There was no "Hey babe, I realized I don't want to be bound to you by law, hope you understand!". Three fucking hours passed before I finally realized that you weren't coming. By then, Natasha had already hunted you down and saw that you were at one of your meetings, acting like you had nothing else to do that day." Y/N tells him as she runs a hand through her hair, "But sure, go ahead and be mad at me because I didn't tell you I was pregnant. Be mad because I left because you apparently did nothing wrong."

"Look I'm sorry-" A knock on the quickly cut him off. Y/N sent a glare his way before walking past him and opening the door. Steve watched as she squatted so she was at eye level with her-their daughter. Steve looked at Sarah, trying to memorize her face just in case this is the last time he sees her. Blue eyes that resemble his glance at him for a moment before they return to look at Y/N.

"Mama? Help?" Sarah asks, her outstretched hands covered in something sticky. The smile that Y/N gave the little girl made something rise in Steve's chest. Neither of them glance at Steve as Y/N leads her back towards the kitchen, leaving the Star Spangled Man With a Plan alone in the room. He did not know what to do with all of this information. Steve had a child, a daughter. A little girl who was fifty percent him and fifty percent Y/N. He knew he had fucked up, but didn't realize he had fucked up this bad. Steve was numb as he walked out of the pristine room, walking down a hall full of pictures of Y/N and their daughter. He leans against the wall as he watches the two of them.

"How did you get this sticky, baby? I gave you a fork." Y/N teases softly, lifting up Sarah so she can wash her hands in the sink. The little girl giggles and Steve thinks it's the best sound in the whole world.

"I sorry, Mama. 'ticky." Sarah responds, which makes Y/N laugh. Steve can't help but smile at the sight in front of him. His head quickly becomes filled with thoughts of "what if". It's not until he feels something tug on his hand, yanking him out of the various scenarios running through his head. Sarah's tiny hand is wrapped around two of his fingers. His heart swells in his chest and he suddenly understands why Tony was willing to give up everything for Pepper and Morgan. He wishes he had made the same decision.

"Go to park?" Sarah questions, looking up at him with those big blue eyes. Steve is at a loss for words and he looks up at Y/N for some sort of help. Y/N is still drying her hands off as she clears her throat.

"Sarah, I don't think Steve wants to go to the park with us. He has to go back to work." The woman tries, walking towards the two of them. Sarah looks disappointed, pouting and making a noise. Y/N glances at Steve, once more weighing the options in her mind.

"I-I have enough time. I'd love to go to the park with you-If your mom is okay with it." Steve responds and the little girl turns to look at her mom. Y/N's features soften and she nods.

"Tony called before you arrived. Said you're trying to create time travel." Y/N announces as they sit beside each other at the little park that was in her neighborhood. Sarah is running around, laughing loudly. Steve glances at the woman beside him. She knew why he had showed up on her porch but still had let him in. Y/N had every right to not let him in, to not even answer the door. Hell, she didn't have to tell him that Sarah was his, but she did.

"Yeah. Lang is pretty sure we can do it. We just need to get the team back together." Steve replies, to which Y/N just nods. Her eyes stay on Sarah, never letting the little girl out of her sight. Steve turns his head to look at his daughter, who is currently sliding down a slide as he continues, "But I understand if you don't want to. Things have...changed."

"If we have a chance to fix things, I want to be there." Y/N responds, fiddling with the necklace she was wearing. Worry was written all over her face and Steve regrets even coming out here try to get her to join them. Her eyes stay on Sarah as she runs around, "If something happens to me, you have to tell her dressed in the suit."

"W-Why?" He is confused at her request, but he wasn't going to tell her no. Steve doesn't even try to tell her that everything is going to be okay if she joins them. They both know the risks involved with their job and he'd be lying if he told her that this was going to be an easy mission. For the first time since they got to the park-Hell for the first time in four years, she turns to him and smiles.

"Because Sarah knows that her daddy is Captain America and she's been dying to meet him."

#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #chris evans x reader #steve rogers

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motherjoel · 4 years ago

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last cup of coffee (spencer reid x reader)

summary: you and spencer are the famous frenemies of the BAU, but one day he goes too far in a fight and the team decides to force you both into the same car to make up. little did you know, the check engine light isn’t just a suggestion.

a/n: this is on my ao3 but i wanted to post it on here too! let me know what you think :)

wc: 2.6k

tw: brief mention of suicide

“Triple A says it’ll be a few hours before they’ll get here,” Spencer sighed, shutting off his phone and shoving it in his pocket. The car engine had stopped working about 10 minutes ago and you cursed yourself for your terrible navigation skills. It may have been your fault that you had no idea where you were, but you'd never admit to it- like many other things you’d never admit to. Your extreme sense of pride led you to blame Spencer for not doing anything about the check engine light. It was this same sense of pride that hid your real feelings for this man- feelings you would never admit to even yourself. Instead, you shielded yourself from these emotions in the form of daily bickering matches with Mr. Genius.

The two of you had ended up in the same car on the way back to the hotel, which was insisted on by the team. You could feel the tension in the air- the tension that had been there since you stormed out of the break room earlier. You both normally never went for blood in these arguments- nothing behind either of your words were to be taken seriously, even the team knew this. Everyone knew that you and Spencer had a bit of a love hate relationship- today, however, was focused on hate. Ever since he went a little too far during one of your bickering matches, you had been icy with him. The team couldn’t take the tension, so they figured a long car ride would solve the issue, except, what was meant to be only an hour of awkward silence was now an indefinite amount of time.

“Well that's just great,” you huffed, going to check your phone to see that it was dead. You dropped it into your lap with a sigh and leaned your head on the window to gaze outside. The cold glass felt nice on your forehead- a contrast to the flushed hotness you had been feeling whenever your mind drifted to your fight with Spencer. The pent up anxiety from this case had really weighed on you- the unsub was killing teen girls and was framing the deaths to look like a suicides. This struck a chord with you, but you tried your hardest to not let it show. You thought back to your argument earlier, where your icy exterior had faltered slightly.

Most of the team was in the break room of the police station you were working the case at, fueling up on the coffee you all so desperately needed. You were the last one to fill your cup, or so you assumed, so you decided to fill your mug to the top with what was left in the coffee pot. Spencer was the last to walk in, and when he saw you holding the empty pot he immediately started in on you.

“Wow, I'm not surprised Y/N took the last of the coffee. Predictable,” he said with a huff, slamming his travel mug on the counter. You winced at the noise, your stress headache was back and you didn’t feel like dealing with his temper.

“You know what Reid? Maybe if you weren’t shitting around with that pretty receptionist over there, you would’ve gotten here on time. Not my fault men think with their dicks,” you said the last sentence under your breath, but he definitely heard it from his flustered reaction.

“I was asking her to bring me some files!” he yelled, seemingly defending himself to the room of your teammates who had stopped in their tracks to watch their daily entertainment. “You know what, Y/N, you’re just insufferable,” he said, turning to the coffee machine to fill it up. Your eyes widened, but you tried your best to mask your expression or to come with a response- when both failed, you stormed out of the room and went to the bathroom to ground yourself, not hearing Morgan whack him on the back of the head once you were out of sight.

You had both been silent for about 20 minutes when you decided to look back at him for the first time. He was shifting in his seat, trying to get comfortable for a nap. You couldn’t stand to sit here in silence for what could possibly be hours, so you tried to break the ice.

“Tired?” you asked him. Simple, but enough to get the two of you talking. Or so you thought.

“Yeah, someone took the last cup of coffee,” he said sarcastically, not daring eye contact.

Groaning, you opened the car door, stepped out and slammed it, deciding to walk down the street you had stopped on until you reached the dead end. It had begun to snow as you walked, and you cursed yourself for forgetting your jacket. At this point, it didn’t matter- the icy coldness of the outdoors was better than the coldness coming from Spencer's attitude.

After walking for a few minutes, you had come across a cliff with a view overlooking the city below. The sight was enough to make you forget about your dead phone and the genius, who had, unbeknownst to you, quietly followed you to this spot. You spotted a green wooden bench overlooking the city and took a seat. It wasn’t long before your tears began to flow. They were wet hot tears of embarrassment, of anger, and of sadness. For years working in the BAU, you had tried to keep up your barrier, being the badass in the black boots (Garica’s loving nickname for you). Your past weighed on you, however, and you kept everyone at an arm's length. All of these people you so desperately wanted to be closer to, and one person in particular who uncharacteristically gave you butterflies. Letting these people in, however, meant vulnerability. Getting close to someone just meant that losing them would inflict great pain on you, and you didn’t think you could survive any more loss in your life.

After crying for a few minutes and wiping your tears on your sleeves, you felt a sweater being draped around your shoulders. The sweater smelled like him. He made his way around the bench and sat next to you. You hastily wiped the last of your tears and scooted to the edge of the bench to stay as far away from Spencer as possible.

“So, why'd you follow me? I thought I was ‘insufferable’” you quoted him from earlier, the sentiment that struck a chord. You hugged the sweater tighter to your body, ignoring that it belonged to him because the chill of the night catching up with you.

“Listen, Y/N, I'm sorry about that. You know how I get when I'm having difficulty with a case, and it's not like we have a great track record with each other,” he defended himself, and he was right. Neither of you really expressed outward kindness for each other, but you never knew why. “But… I didn’t think today was any different,” he finally looked up at you.

“You’re right, Reid. Today isn’t any different,” you sighed, avoiding actually telling him what was wrong- although your splotchy red post-cry face was telling enough. He flinched at your use of Reid- although you two were “frenemies,” you always called him Spencer, sometimes even Spence. The team teased you for it but you shrugged it off- “Spence” was just easier to say, or so you told yourself.

“Then… why did you storm off?” he asked softly, looking back down at his hands on his lap, fidgeting with them slightly. You avoided his gaze, knowing that you were about to tell him something that only Garcia knows- she did a bit of research on you because she wanted to know why you were so cold, and when she found out that your parents had died at a young age, she was nothing but kind to you. She also kept everything to herself, which you were grateful for.

“When I was in high school, I was in a really bad place,” you started, fighting back the tears. Spencer scooted closer to you, urging you to continue. “I wasn't very well liked. When I was 15, my parents both died in a car crash and I transferred schools to live with my aunt,” you confessed. Spencer's expression saddened greatly, and he rested his hand on your arm as a form of comfort. You gave him a look that said “oh, and that's not even the half of my trauma” before you continued.

“At this new school, I was bullied a lot. Like, a lot a lot. People told me I was a waste of space, I was… insufferable,” you said, ignoring his pitying expression. “I started to believe these things. Spence… I tried to take my own life,” you said, finally breaking down in tears. Before you could continue, he wrapped his arms around you and you buried your face in his chest, letting your messy tears stain his shirt without thinking twice. His hands stroked your back, soothing you. You had melted into him, finally feeling vulnerable for the first time in years. For some reason, you were no longer embarrassed of your vulnerable side. You bore your heart and soul to this man and were greeted with nothing but kindness. Pulling away for a moment, you continued telling your story.

“I’m doing a lot better now,” you said, wiping your tears with your sleeve as he maintained eye contact, showing his full support. “I don’t have those thoughts anymore, and if I do I know to get help. It’s just difficult to get close to people because I'm afraid… that if I lose them, I’ll be right back where I was when I was 18,” you finished, realizing his hands were grabbing yours.

“Y/N, I am so sorry. This case probably affected you differently and I was such an ass earlier, god I'm terrible,” he criticized himself, putting his head in his hands. You reached over and took his hands in yours again, resting your entwined fingers between you. This was the most physical contact you had ever had with him, but for some reason it felt more right than anything- you never knew what you were missing until now.

“Spence, there's no way that you would have known,” you soothed, looking into his eyes and rubbing his hand with your thumb. He looked down at your hands and sighed, before returning his gaze to you, but there was something different about his expression. Rather than his usual contempt, or even the pity from a few minutes ago, he now looked almost amazed. Like you were some celebrity or a superhero who had just saved the world. Before you even knew what you were doing, you started to lean in, Spencer mirroring you. Soon enough, you were inches away from his fluttering lashes, you could feel his breath on your lips. You pulled away suddenly, apologizing profusely for your out of character actions.

“Oh my god Spence, I'm so sorry, I think I'm just emotional right now, and you're being so nice to me, I didn’t mean to make things weird,” you avoided eye contact, face flushed with embarrassment.

“Y/N, it's okay! I leaned in too…” he blushed. You looked back up at him to see his eyes were already on you. Simultaneously, you both leaned in and crushed your lips together, his arms snaking around your waist and yours resting on the sides of his face. Your lips moved in perfect harmony with passion as you leaned your back against the bench armrest, him leaning forward to keep your lips connected. There was a hunger between you two- like these years of bickering and sexual tension (that apparently everyone but you two had noticed) had built up so much, it finally spilled and manifested itself as a makeout session with your once enemy.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like this, entwined with each other, before you both came up for air. He pulled away from you, still leaning over you but his face was now a couple inches away, and smiled. You both sat up and started to laugh uncontrollably. It was ridiculous, really- the two of you having an intense makeout sesh only seconds after you bore your soul to him. But he was Spencer, and you were you.

“That was…” you started.

“Amazing,” Spencer finished for you. You both sat in silence for a minute, his hand touching his lips, before you scooted closer to him and rested your head on his shoulder, curling your legs under you. He wrapped his arm around you and your hands met, resting between the two of your warm bodies.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks you. You sigh in contentment, the cold air biting your nose in the right way.

“I'm thinking that this is one of those moments that are so... perfect. It’s just so wonderful, you almost feel sad because... nothing will ever be this good again,” you confessed. He took his arm back from around your shoulder and faced you, looking in your eyes.

“If you’ll be my girlfriend, I can promise you that we can have endless moments like this,” he told you, taking you by surprise. You looked at him, smiling widely as his face broke into insecurity.

“Your… girlfriend?” you asked, still in shock. He started to fidget a bit in his seat.

“Obviously, you don't have to do anything you don't want to do, I know this is really sudden but I don't know… I'm sorry, I know we're supposed to hate each other or whatever, but I’ve just… I’ve liked you for a while now,” he blurted. You laughed at his shyness, it was really adorable to see him flustered like this around you.

“Spencer, I really like you. I’ve liked you ever since you spilled your coffee on me on my first day,” you recalled fondly, he smiled. “I even liked you when you tried to clean it up but accidentally felt up my boob,” you laughed at that memory, he blushed profusely. “I think these little arguments that we get into were just fueled by my ‘keep everyone at arm's length’ rule- it was you that I was afraid to get close to, because Spencer Reid, you are dangerous. You have the capability of shattering my heart into pieces because I just like you so damn much,” you confessed to him, his face was in awe. You studied his expression, lips parted slightly, eyebrows raised. His eyes held pools of adoration, and rather than be scared and shy away from it, you finally wanted to dive in and soak in it. His expression softened as he leaned in, tilting your head up by putting his hand on your chin.

“Y/N,” he whispered. “I swear to never shatter your heart into pieces if it's the last thing I do,” he said softly before closing his eyes and pressing his lips to yours. This kiss held less intensity, but more soft passion and caring. You felt safe in his embrace, safe for the first time in years, and you knew this is where you were meant to be.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid angst #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid/you #Matthew Gray Gubler

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analviel · 4 years ago

Text

BAD BAT: an old thing I found in one of my notes, just wanted to share, not gonna continue it at all, I have no idea what I had planned for it.

Tim needed to do something.

Anything.

Anything but sit in front of the Bat-computer, staring.

Oh god.

Oh, god.

Tim needed to do something. Now.

But he couldn't because blood was rushing in his ears and his mind was sluggish, a desperate attempt to protect himself as his world crashed around him not for the first time.

This time, he didn't, wouldn't, have Batman beside him.

Because Batman-

Because Bruce-

Tim stared and stared and stared and all the evidence stared back.

The face of Richard Grayson, Jason Todd, and Timothy Drake stared back.

Robin stared back.

And of course Tim's mind had already made the connection, had already completed the picture, had already matched it to reality and filled in the blank spaces he hadn't even been aware was there.

Oh, god.

Combined with his sickness that had him benched for the night and the sudden, shocking, knowledge that Batman had killed his parents, had killed Robin's parents, Tim staggered to his feet and off his seat, socks slipping on the cool cave floors as he stumbled towards the nearest bin and upended his dinner. And lunch and breakfast and the other dinner until he was left dry heaving and crying in the Batcave over the stink of his vomit.

Oh, god.

Tim needed to do something.

Tim needed to start thinking of what to do.

The action was easy, instinct, trained. Retrieving one of his Robin storage from his jacket, Tim scrambled back to the computer to fumble with sticking it in, copying the entire file and all the incriminating evidence.

Methodically, he returned it back to its previous encryption, erased the backdoor he made, and burned every hint that he'd even come anywhere close to the file. So very, very aware of the chill of the cave, cold fingers digging in his inside, and senses peaked for any presence in the cold, cold cavern.

Now what?

Tim stared at the black of the screen of the Bat-computer and missed the light.

Shock, he distantly thought. He was in shock.

Robin- Tim stared down at the gold chip in his hand. So tiny. So harmless. And now it contained everything that could make or break.... a lot of things. A lot of people.

Oh god. Where was he going to go?

Oh, god.

Did he want to go?

Because Batman-

Because Bruce-

Bruce is Tim's father. The only father he's left.

And-

And maybe he's wrong.

(Denial.)

Maybe someone was trying to frame Batman. To turn his own family against him and what kind of son was Tim if he let himself be fooled so easily.

This couldn't....

This couldn't be right.

Tim took a shaky inhale.

Shook his head.

But if it was right then his current train of thought was all wrong.

Tim....

Tim was always left with the hard decisions wasn't he?

This wouldn't be the first time and he had the sinking feeling it wouldn't be the last.

So with an exhale, Tim yanked himself into the backseat of his mind and let training and objectivity slide in the slot of the driver.

In Tim's hand was evidence that Bruce Wayne, his adoptive father, had orchestrated the death of Dick's, Jason's, and Tim's parents deaths.

And just putting those in words, even just in his mind, almost had him with the knee jerk reaction to crash his mind just to stop thinking about it.

Now Tim didn't know what to do but he, undoubtedly, had to do something. Anything.

Well, anything that hopefully wouldn't get him killed by the man he considered his father-

Bad Tim. Don't think about that. Not now.

Later.

Who was he supposed to go with this information?

Alfred?

..... Tim didn't know. Everything he knew about Alfred said that the man would've never condoned this if he knew.

But everything Tim had known about Batman said the same.

Tim was too scared to be wrong and maybe even more afraid to be right.

Oracle? No.

Babs was a badass but she was vulnerable to Batman. She might be able to help, distanced from the situation as she was, certainly would be able to make better decisions than Tim currently could, but Batman could get to her -and it was easier to think Batman than Bruce- and Tim didn't want anyone hurt, least of all her.

Wether this was real or not and regardless of the growing part of him that wanted to shut it all out.

Tim was running out of time.

His mind was working against him.

And wasn't that a chilling thought because suddenly the word brainwashing and reprogramming-

Not now, Tim.

The sound of footsteps, faint and purposeful, was like a shot through his chest.

Tim stuffed the stick in a skin coloured garter pocket wrapped around his calf.

"Master Timothy- My goodness, young man."

Oh yeah. He didn't just feel sick, he probably looked the whole shebang.

He turned and he was vaguely glad that he didn't need to fake a smile or what when Alfred crossed the distance between them with a pinched expression, because he really didn't think he could put up any expression other than shock. And that he could barely hold up as it slowly gave way to despair and- and just an amalgamation of emotions he couldn't start even naming much less dealing with.

Alfred rested a hand on his forehead, "Young man, how long have you been down here? It seems your cold has worsen. Hardly a surprise when you spend your time down in this damp basement."

Who was he supposed to go to?

Tim had only a handful of options.

Alfred, Barbara, and-

And Dick.

Oh, god, did Dick know?

He tilted to the right and Alfred caught him, lips pursed. Everything feels like it's trapped behind murky water.

"I think that's enough. Go up to your room now and rest, Master Timothy."

Dick would've warned him, right? If Dick had known, his big brother would've told him, right? He wouldn't have let this happen.

Dick was-

His big brother.

Dick wasn't his only brother. Wasn't the last option.

Jason.

Oh. It's weird to attach that label to that name.

Weird.

Not bad.

The older boy -man? he's never quite sure what to call them, neither word sounding right- never really acknowledge him as such, it was probably beyond presumptuous for Tim to think of him like that even in the quite of his mind, but....

Tim's head shot up, almost headbutting Alfred.

"You're right, Alfred. I'm- I'm going to go up."

He ignored how weak his voice sounded and moved away from the butler towards the manor, just barely managing not to break into a run.

Then he was breaking out into a run once he's out of sight, past the many rooms and halls of the Wayne manor, and throwing open the door of his room. Without a single pause, he picked up random semi-presentable garments off the floor and wiggled out of his pyjamas to put them on, digging around his closet for the black box containing his customised watch to strap on his wrist, and grabbing his skateboard, a sticky note, and a pen on his way out.

Tim slapped a 'do not disturb, sleeping' note on his door. Fifty-fifty that the warning would be heeded, every second would count.

Tim turned on the micro computer in his watch as he snuck out of the manor and past the grounds, using the shadows of the night and his innate predilection for stealth to his advantage.

~*~

A banging on the door had Jason grabbing a gun, Kori standing at attention, and Roy training an arrow at the window.

They were in one of his safe houses in Gotham, a short stop to pick up some supplies, patching each other up from their latest mission, before they're going straight back to the base.

No one should be knocking on this apartment.

Jason exchanged glances with the others and slowly approached the door-

"Please! Jason, I know you're in there! Please, please open up! Please, oh god, please open up!"

Robin.

He'd know that voice anywhere, practically his largest trigger for the Pit Madness-

He sounded desperate. In fact, if he was hearing right through the hardwood, the boy was practically sobbing.

Already knowing who it was, and feeling a trickle of worry in the back of his head despite himself, Jason sped up the rest of the way and pulled the door open to see Tim Drake in all his civilian teen glory. Pale, red rimmed eyes, and choking on his breath.

Out of his armor.

Defenceless in front of Jason.

Not Robin.

The boy didn't even wait for an invite, stumbling inside and grabbing the door out of his hands and slamming it close behind him.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing kid?" Jason growled, letting all his menace fill the air.

Roy raised an eyebrow.

It was strange to see Jason being like this with a kid.

But Tim Drake was different.

No, not really. Jason was just a hypocrite who didn't do what he preach and wasn't actually all that better from those scums he put bullets in.

And Tim- Tim just stared.

So miserably it was the only thing keeping the green at bay from flaring as it usually did around his replacement.

That and the fact that, this time, if Jason was going to do something, he'd have to look Tim Drake in the eyes.

"Did- did you know?"

The question was so quiet he almost didn't catch it with his thoughts still swirling.

Jason blinked, "What."

And Tim sobbed, sliding down to the floor in a breakdown and Jason's mind blanked.

And for the first time in a very long time, Jason thought where was Dick?

(The last time he thought that, he was in a warehouse and a crowbar was falling on him.)

"I-" Hands came up to wipe at the tears in vain, "It was my fault. If I didn't- dad, and mom, they- and Bruce-"

Tim made some sort of keening sound and, yeah, he wasn't going to get anything out of the kid in his current state.

And Jason was hyperaware of his teammates behind him, waiting for his lead.

Jason dropped in a crouch barely an arms length away. The kid didn't even flinch, didn't make any indication that he was aware in how much danger he was currently in.

His cheeks were flushed and he was sweating in a way that had Jason suspecting that his temperature was higher than normal.

"Kid.... Tim...." it was a challenge to keep his voice at least not aggressive. The boy choked on another sob, blue eyes purple in the dim lighting as he looked at him, and oh, fuck, he was hyperventilating.

Jason needed him present.

And there was only one sure way he knew to do that.

"Robin. Calm down." He said in that exact same pitch he did.

But to Jason's confusion and actual rising concern, rather than freezing and gradually falling back to trained breathing, Tim paled -how that was even possible with how pale he already was, Jason didn't know- and reeled back in horror, chest stuttering.

Shit.

Jason watched him.

He shook his head, but at least his eyes seemed more present now, "Don't- don't call me that, please."

Well, if he hadn't already thought so before, now he knew with certainty that it was Bruce that got his Robin running towards his homicidal predecessor.

Go figure.

"Hey, kid. Tim. You need to calm down. Mainly, because you're not gonna get out whatever you came here to tell me or whatever, and partly because I ain't promising I'm not gonna get violent if you keep wasting my time."

.... It was exactly what he wanted to say, but as usual, something in him got a bit complicated. Not quite regret.

But closest he was probably going to get.

He felt that around Tim a lot.

Tim hiccupped, finally falling back on training to shove aside the hysteria. Then he pulled himself to his feet, eyes staying locked on Jason's and completely ignoring the two.

He presented him with something gold and Jason looked at it with a raised eyebrow as he straightened himself.

"I-" he cleared his throat, "I don't know- Just. Jason, you need to see this- no, I mean, you need to leave Gotham, immediately, and then read it. Everything. Don't- Don't come back until you do, please. That's-"

He ran his hand through his hair the second he was sure Jason wasn't going to drop the stick, looking torn between being as far away from it as he could and snatching it back.

He exhaled a gust, deflating, staring at the older boy morosely, sparing a glance at his friends.

"I don't know what to do, Jason. I- I don't have anywhere else to go. I don't think...... I don't want to think anymore, please. I'm sorry. I could be wrong, I'm probably wrong, I'm being stupid and just overreacting and- and I don't know what to do when I get back. I don't know if anyone else knows, if Alfred-" his voice hitched, "Or, Dick, or- or Superman, I just. I just don't know-"

Jason watched the teen practically break in front of him and in a split second decision, he telegraphed his actions.

And pulled Tim Drake into a hug.

"Calm down. Calm down. Breathe."

He didn't coo, and his voice wasn't designed to be soothing. It was almost a demand actually but it worked and Tim stopped babbling and after a few minutes of complete silence and Jason's hand awkwardly drawing circles on his back, their breathing were in sync.

"... Thank you." Tim said to his chest, and fuck, the kid was short and so fucking small how did he not bleed out-, "Thank you, Jason. I'm going to go- go home now."

And because, well, he didn't really know what else to do, Jason agreed and sent him out, letting him go back to the manor.

He'd regret that later.

~*~

Dick stared at his phone with a frown, worry churning in his gut.

3p.a.;bst¿!

Seemingly a random keyboard smash text from an unknown number, but was actually one of the many protocols of the contingencies his little brother absently rambled about during late nights hanging out, one of the many codes he'd memorized, not quite humoring Tim since anything was possible, but not one he'd ever worried about in their immediate future.

Batman was compromised and likely going after Dick for whatever reason.

And okay, yeah, Dick was concerned but not harried, since if it was really bad then another protocol would've been activated. Mind you, the Batman being compromised was truly something to be concerned about, but it seemed whatever was happening didn't pose the risk of Bruce dying.

That said, Batman was compromised and last Dick knew, Tim was with Batman.

And now Dick had no choice but to trust that Tim knew what he was doing and was somewhere safe for them to regroup.

Not that it stopped the familiar stone in his chest whenever he worried about his little brother -little brothers.

Dick grabbed his emergency pack and prepared to leave, for Nightwing to disappear while they fix this.

Sorry about the big block but I'm... trying to figure out how to do the read more thing on mobile.

#tim drake #dc #robin #batfam #red robin #dc comics #dick grayson #batman #jason todd #nightwing #red hood #bruce wayne #and i write #bad bat

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maxineswritingcenter · 4 years ago

Text

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 25

-----------

2005

It was the semi-finales for girl’s lacrosse. Miraculously, I was made captain as a freshman. Which meant, for some reason, people were offended and thought that I should be picked on more. Fact of the matter is that lacrosse is a game of strategy. Together; with the help of my teammates, we would play to win. Being captain wasn’t a choice, Finstock made me captain and the role was a big shoe to fill. But here we are, semi-finales.

As we made our way out to the play, I looked at the stands. Mom, Dad, Uncle Noah, Stiles, Scott on one end. Laura and Derek on the other side.

There were fifteen minutes left in the game, the score was tied. We needed to make one more goal to win and get to the finales. For this next play, I was face to face with the other team captain, waiting for the pearl to be thrown.

“You don’t deserve to be captain.” The girl glared, her eyes looked like they wanted to melt through my helmet and into my brain.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I worked my ass off for four years to be captain. What makes you so special?”

I blinked at her, a little confused as to where this hostility was coming from, “I’m just playing a game.”

“A real captain knows the lacrosse is more than a game.” She smirked, “When we win this, I’m getting a scholarship to So Cal, so why don’t you just do what freshman do best and lose.” On one hand I felt bad for her. She probably had parents that pushed and pushed for her to be the best. And I also felt bad because I knew we were gonna win.

The ref blew the whistle starting play. And everything was going according to plan. That was until I was passed the pearl. I ran with it, tossing it to another player. Meaning that it was completely unnecessary for me to be tackled and would be considered aggressive. But that didn’t stop the other captain from using her entire body to slam me into the ground. One minute I was standing and the next I had was on the ground. My chest felt tight, like I was straining to breathe. When I opened my eyes, I saw her face over mine, smirking down at me.

“HEY!” I heard Finstock’s booming voice, “Ref! Aren’t you gonna call that?!” No whistle, either the ref hadn’t seen it or he was allowing it. But Derek wasn’t allowing it. I heard multiple shouts and then watched the player who stood above me get shoved away, Derek replaced her. He knelt down, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Derek, what are you doing?” I groaned.

“Can you get up?” He asked, trying to help me sit up. I hissed at the movement.

Derek turned back to the bench, “Get a medic!” And only then did the whistle blow. The girl had given plenty of excuses, but they still gave her team a three minute penalty that made them lose the game. Looks like I had been right.

I was taken to the hospital and diagnosed with a concussion but I would be fine just in time for the finales. The whole time in the waiting room, in the room itself, and even when we got home, Derek had been right beside me, holding my hand.

I had grown to hate hospitals and everything about them since the last time I had been to one I had been stabbed. The gowns with the open backs that were way too open to the public. That smell that was a cross between cleaner and the latex and rubber of gloves. The beds that were as hard as a rock and were covered in paper that would crinkle and make noise even if you weren't moving. That apprehensiveness that would build up in your stomach every time you heard footsteps coming down the hallway.

Thankfully, I didn't have to go through any of that. Since I was a pregnant werewolf, going to the hospital in Beacon Hills was a definite no-no, so the next best option is Dr. Deaton, a veterinarian and a makeshift supernatural doctor. Not to mention a full blown druid in this day and age. But from what I've learned in the past couple years, old magic was very much alive.

I was sitting on the metal table used for the animals, swinging my legs back and forth, waiting for Deaton to come back from getting my medical records emailed to him by Melissa. He could have gotten them himself, he just figured it would be less illegal if he got them from a nurse.

Thoughts were racing through my head for no rhyme or reason. Since I became a werewolf, every scar or scratch on my body had become only a memory. My stab wound, the acid burns on my legs, the cuts on my face from being tortured all those months ago which really felt more like a lifetime. It had been a different life, a life fabricated through magic and spells. A life that almost didn't feel like mine anymore.

"Sorry, for the wait, (Y/N)." Deaton walked into the room, his eyes scanning over the stack of papers in his hands.

"You're alright, Doc." I smiled, leaning back on my hands, "So how am I looking?"

“Very pregnant.”

"Nothing gets past you, huh?” I smirked. To be fair, I was approaching the three and a half month mark. Deaton smiled, taking my vitals and a vial of blood.

“So I’ve been made aware that Mr. Hale is the father.” He said, pressing a cotton ball to my skin after removing the needle, “How's that going?"

“About as well as you can imagine.”

“So not at all?” He asked. I nodded, shrugging my shoulders.

"Everything looks normal," He smiled as he wrote everything down on his clipboard, "Just need to get a look at the little guy." He looked up, "You said it was a boy, right?" He asked, moving over to get the sonographer that I’m sure had never been used on a human before.

“Unless the baby’s sprouting a third arm. That'd be cool." I smiled, “But yeah, that’s what the ultrasound tech in Scotland said.”

He chuckled and shook his head, "Alright, lay back and lift your shirt up." I laid back on the table, lifting my shirt up. The jelly he put on my stomach was cold and reminded me of the goo that had encased Jackson when he was a lizard person. He moved the sensor over my stomach and looked into the monitor. Ultrasounds were usually a little hard to see anyway, just like a fancy warschak paintings. And the fetus? Kinda like a funky jellybean.

“There we are.” He grinned, “Little werewolf.”

Craning my neck, I looked up at him, "You can tell he's a werewolf?"

"No.” He took the monitor off, handing me a paper towel so I could wipe off my stomach, “But odds are since his parents are both werewolves, it would make sense that the child would be also. However, you had the dormant gene, maybe your child will too." He turned off the sonographer.

“Have any names picked out?”

"I have a few... I liked Jacob, which Derek hated because it was too ‘Twilight’. Then there's one other but I don't know about it." The name that Derek loved more than anything for some reason, "Nicholas." And damn was it good.

"What about Nicholas Jacob? Just use both of them."

"Or I could name him after Stiles" I smirked to myself, "Mieczyslaw Nicholas.”

"Maybe that would be a little too much."

“Stiles is a little too much.” I smiled to myself

"So Nicholas?" Sheriff looked at me from across the table, a cup of coffee in his hand. I hummed and nodded, sipping my hot cocoa.

"Nicholas?” He asked again.

"Mieczyslaw?" I raised my eyebrows at him.

He raised his eyebrows, "It was his mother's father's name."

“I remember Grandpa Mitch, trust me." I smiled, holding my mug in both hands, “I was thinking maybe Nicholas Noah.” I avoided looking in his eyes. Emotional talks were never really his strong suit, especially after Aunt Claudia. I wanted to honor him somehow.

He smiled, blinking a few times, “Sounds pretty good to me.” After a moment he asked: "What are you going to do now?"

I finished my drink and stood up to put it in the sink, "My plan, right now at least, is that I'm going to stay here to have the baby... Then...” I washed out the mug, “Then I'm not sure. I don't know if I want to go back to Scotland or stay here." He stood up as well and pulled me into his arms for a tight hug. I wrapped my arms around him, blinking my own tears away.

Uncle Noah stroked my hair and kissed the top of my head, "Whatever your decision, I'll be there for you. Whenever you need me. I'll always, always be there for you."

My pajamas had taken a turn for the worst. No more t-shirts and shorts, it’s moo moos and nightgowns from now on. I pulled my night gown over my head, smoothing out the skirt. Did I look like I had raided a grandmother’s closet? Absolutely. I looked down at my stomach, rubbing my hand over my bump.

"Are you a little alien?" I smiled after a moment, listening deeply to his little heartbeat, “Nice.” I glanced over at my desk, then pulled back my blankets to get into bed. I stopped, my head snapping back towards the window where there were red eyes staring back at me.

Now, if this was two years ago I would be losing my mind over the fact that there were red eyes staring at me. But since I've gone through emotional Hell, I was feeling rather annoyed by some alpha that just thought they could mosey around my house, around my window, and around my goddamn personal space. I stalked over to the window and slammed it open.

"Listen, pal, you have about five seconds to get out my yard or I swear by all that is damnable, I will put you through so much pain that your great-grandchildren will be sore."

The eyes came closer, revealing a familiar crooked jaw, "Nice to see you too."

"You could have just come through the front door, ya know? If Stiles can make a spare key to your house, then he can make you one for his." Scott only looked at me seriously. It was like the kid from three months ago was gone and all there was left was a battle hardened man.

"Can I please come in?" I stepped away from the window, watching him crawl inside and stand up.

"I've been great, Scott, I've only been in Scotland for months, crying and wondering why none of my friends or family were contacting me. How have you been?" Was it petty? Absolutely, but the hormones were raging. Even if Derek told everyone to stop talking to me, what hold did he have over anyone when Scott was around?

"I'm sorry about that, I really am. But I came to-"

I cut him off, after finally connecting, "Who did you kill?"

“What?”

"To become an alpha, who did you take it from?"

"I didn't kill anyone!” He said in an exasperated voice, “Why does everyone ask that? Not killing people has been my thing since Peter bit me." He ran his hand through his shorter hair, it suit him.

It then dawned on me. The one thing that had little to no documentation of. Even the Lunar Circle had just the basics. It was the stuff of legend, a hear say. I didn't think it was possible.

"A true alpha." He stared at me for a second and blinked a couple times.

"You're a true alpha." I grinned, "Oh my god, Scott, this is unbelievable." I grabbed his shoulders and gave them a slight squeeze, "Tell me everything. I wanna know how it happened and what situation you were in. How were you feeling? Were you hurt? Was your body under so much stress that it just happened?”

Scott grabbed my hands and placed them by my sides, "(Y/N), maybe another time I came here for a reason."

"Oh, right, of course." Probably looking ridiculous, “What’s on your mind?”

"I really don't think it's safe for you here."

"Here we go agai-"

"Will you just listen to me before you start whining?" He growled. That certainly shut me up. I raised my eyebrows at him, but I guess I should hear him out. I motioned for him to continue.

"I'm not so much worried about you.” He said, “I know you can take care of yourself. I'm worried about..." He paused, "Uh..."

“Nicholas.”

"Yeah, I'm worried about Nicholas." He sat in my computer chair and leaned forward, "The pack we're facing don't care who they kill or why, all they want is to hurt us. You're my friend, (Y/N). I don't want anything to happen to you. And I don't want anything to happen to your kid. Please." He rolled forward and took my hands in his, "Please, go back to Scotland. I promise you, you won't be in the dark. You don't deserve to be left out. I'll call myself, and if not me, Stiles will. It's not safe for you.” I looked down, gnawing on my lip. Scott was right, he was completely right. It wasn't safe. I couldn't be a tough alpha when I had so much to live for. Keeping this kid safe is my top priority. As much as I wanted to stay home, it wasn’t safe.

"You'll tell me when it's safe to come back?"

"You have my word."

I sighed, looking up at him with a half-smile, "I may be stubborn as hell, but that doesn't mean I can't admit when someone's right. And you're right, Scott. I'll go."

He closed his eyes, like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He dropped my hands and rolled back, "I'm so glad you agreed with my first speech, if you hadn't I would have been improvising for my life." He chuckled.

Shaking my head, I grinned at him, “It’s good to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you too.”

"So you're going back?" Uncle Noah looked over his coffee with tired eyes, spying my luggage that had only been unpacked for two days. It was a new day and another plane ride.

"It's not safe for me. It's not safe for any of you." I rested my head on his shoulder, "But I know that will never stop you from helping the ones you care about."

A small smile pulled at his lips, "You're way too good at reading me."

"Well, I've only known you my whole life."

He set down his coffee and hugged me tight, like this was the last time he would see me. I know he was worried about me and Stiles, it was in his nature. This was the best option for me. As much as I wanted to stay and fight. I couldn't fight if my child was kidnapped and hell knows what would happen to him.

Giving him one last squeeze, I pulled away, the honking outside meant that Stiles had pulled in and was ready to drop me off at the airport.

"I'll call you when I land. Or text you. Depends on the time." I kissed his cheek, "Bye Uncle Noah."

“Goodbye, sweetheart. Stay safe." I kissed his cheek. My head held high, I grabbed my bag and my rolling luggage and went out the door. Stiles grabbed my bags, opening the back of Roscoe to throw my luggage in. That was until a familiar black Camero pulled into the driveway, blocking Stiles in.

"God. Dammit." I muttered to myself. My life was just going swell, wasn't it? I looked down at my stomach and sighed. I felt the burn of acid reflux in my throat, my child showing obvious discomfort as well. Me too, little man. Me too.

There was no way around it, I couldn’t leave without talking with him. Not that I should have to begin with. I sucked.

Derek got out of the car, coming around quickly and standing in front of me.

“Derek, I don’t think you should be here.” Stiles stepped forward. Very sweet, but realistically Stiles wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing against Derek. They stared each other down, the air just filled with masculinity.

“Stiles...” I said, grabbing my bags, “If he wants to take me to the airport, let him.”

Stiles eyes widened, “You’re really giving him the time of day? Really?”

Sighing, I pulled Stiles into my arms and hugged him tightly. He hesitated, but hugged me back.

“I know that this seems like a bad idea, and most of my ideas are bad, but I got this. Trust me.” I smiled and kissed his cheek, “I love you.” He pulled away, looking between Derek and I.

“I love you too. Scott and I will let you know when it’s safe to come back.”

“You better.” I turned back to Derek, trying to keep up the attitude I had to keep Stiles at ease. I held out my bags. He took them without a word and we both started the trip to the airport. It was hard to get a read on him at the moment. He emotions were dull, nothing that stood out. He still looked as tense as ever. His brows were knitted together and his piercing green eyes looked hard.

“So...” He said after a while, “What are you going to do about...” He trailed off.

“Him?” I looked down at my stomach, “I’m just preparing and getting ready for him. I picked a name too. Nicholas.”

A small smile pulled at his lips, but he hid it, “Hmm.”

“Derek....” Now or never, “I just need to know why?”

He inhaled deeply, “I wish I could tell you. I don’t even remember it happening. Like I was under a spell and I couldn’t break out of it.” So he had experienced what I had when I was under Matt’s control. In this situation, in Beacon Hills, there was no reason not to believe him. His heart told me it was true.

“I’m sorry that I hit you.”

“I don’t blame you.” He glanced over at me, “If I felt the same thing you did, I would probably lose control too.”

“I’m tired of people taking advantage of you. If I see that bitch-” I hadn’t realized that my eyes had turned red.

“(Y/N)...” He reached over his right hand, placing it on my knee, “Calm down.” I took a deep breath and leaned back against the seat, closing my eyes. Just the simplest touch could calm me down and it was something that I missed.

“Nicholas, huh? I like it.”

Happiness welled up in my chest, “I sure hope so since you picked it.”

“I didn’t think you liked it.”

I sat back up and opened my eyes, “What are you talking about? I’ve always liked that name.”

“Riiiiight.”

By the time the conversation ended, we were at the airport. I reached for the handle to open the door when he reached over to stop me.

“I let you leave alone last time, I’m walking you in."

We got inside and checked in, the only thing left was for me to board. Maybe it was a good thing that he didn't take me to the airport last time, because now that he was here, I didn't want to leave him.

"How selfish would it be for me to ask you to drop your life here and come with me?" I leaned on his arm.

"Very. Trust me, the thought crossed my mind. I'm needed here. I have to be here for Cora."

I smiled slightly, "We're gonna get through this. Soon we'll be together again and we can have that big happy family that you deserve. That we deserve."

Derek sighed, resting his head on top of mine, "Is it cliche to hope that this all ends tomorrow?"

My smile faltered, "Don't believe in miracles, Derek."

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Read part 26 here!

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#derek hale x reader #teen wolf fic #teen wolf x reader #derek hale fic

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ickle-ronniekins · 5 years ago

Text

placing bets

request from anon: A fluffy, soft, and pining George please? Like, he was really young when he fell in love with her upon first meeting—he made a joke that caused her to laugh, and he just found it to be the most beautiful sound and was smitten ever since. 😭❤️

word count: 3.9k

A/N: i love a pining, head over heels, irrevocably in love george with a girl who knows it and is totally going to make him work... bye i’m crying

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover @dreamer821 | message me if you’d like to be added!

Your laugh seems to echo across the entire Quidditch pitch. Okay, not really, but it’s both loud and soft at the same time in George’s ears, and it floats in the air between you both, and he’s desperately clinging to the sound of it—just like he does whenever you laugh. Just like he did when you were both eight years old and met for the first time in the village outside of Ottery St. Catchpole all those years ago, after having shown you a magic trick when you giggled yourself into oblivion.

In love with you right then, he was.

“You’re not allowed to laugh at me,” he teases you now. His voice is calm and steady in his ears and he’s thankful that he doesn’t sound as nervous as he feels. He rebalances himself on his broomstick after nearly falling off and peers at you with a smirk.

“I’m sorry—but you can’t expect me to not laugh when you do something as silly as try and surf on your broomstick, George.”

His feet finally touch the ground, and much to his dismay he sees the rest of the team emerging from the changing rooms, undoubtedly gearing up for tryouts. He swallows over a lump in his throat when both Harry and Fred nod at him from the other end of the pitch. He knows he’s a fantastic bloody beater, but the fact that you’re going to be watching tryouts with Ron, Ginny, and Hermione are making him feel less confident than before. He stands up straighter to try and push these feelings away. It doesn’t work. You seem to notice.

“Hey,” you say after a moment and place a hand on his shoulder, “you’ll be great. Just try not to fall off of your broom this time, okay?”

A laugh escapes his lips and he says to you as you make your way toward the stands, “Well I bloody hope I don’t fall, since I’ll be spending the majority of this tryout doing my very best to impress you, anyway.”

You roll your eyes at his comment, but he sees a rosy pink color flood your cheeks. “Best focus on the bludgers, Georgie, don’t want any of them to whack you, yeah?”

He laughs again, takes a deep breath, and turns toward his teammates. Fred is looking at him with raised eyebrows and a laugh so sweet it could cure an illness. Once he realizes that you’re now out of earshot, Fred teasingly slings an arm around his twin’s shoulders, turns to Harry and asks, “He’s been in love for the longest bloody time—how much longer d’you reckon before he finally does something about it?”

“I dunno, mate,” Harry says and kicks George playfully in the shin, “he’s been pining for what—eight, nine years now? Give it another five or so, I reckon he’ll be able to maybe ask her out then.”

“I’ll be sure to send bludgers toward the both of you today, then,” George replies with a mischievous grin as the other two fall into raucous laughter. He peers up at the stands, easily finding you sitting with his siblings and Hermione, and when you finally look up and meet his gaze, you wiggle your eyebrows at him, and wink.

Like George seriously needs to be sent into overdrive before what is arguably the most important Quidditch tryout of his entire life. He does his hardest to nudge Fred very hard in the ribs when all he can hear are snickers and kissing noises in his ear.

— -

George peers up at the very dark, cloudy gray ceiling in the Great Hall. He absolutely hates it when it rains. He’s looking particularly grumpy as he listens to the thunder clap outside the tall windows. He’s sipping rather moodily on his pumpkin juice when you plop down next to him and say, “Brighten up, would you, Weasley? Why the long face?”

“It’s raining,” Fred replies before George can catch his breath and answer you himself, “Georgie hates it when it rains.”

“Why?” you ask suddenly, scooping a bit of vegetables onto your dinner plate, “We’ve known each other for so long, how have I never known this about you? I love it when it‘s raining! The sound of the pitter-patter on the roof, the way the grounds smell right before a rainstorm—it’s absolutely beautiful.”

“Don’t ramble on too much, Y/N,” Fred says, again. George can’t seem to get a word in edgewise. “George might just try and make it rain all the bloody time if you love it so much.”

You turn to George, who’s rib cage is being flooded with butterflies. He tries to ignore it. He grins cheekily at you when you raise your eyebrows and inquire, “Is that so? Trying to impress me more, are you?”

“Can’t help myself,” he replies with a wink.

“I’ll get you to enjoy the rain one day—for real. You can count on it. You’ve got to find the beauty in everyday life.”

He wants to tell you, when he peers into your sparkling eyes and feels the nerves grow stronger, that he already does find the beauty in everyday life. Instead, he asks, “Mmm, is that a promise?”

“Most definitely.”

“If you don’t mind,” Fred stands up from his place across from you and looks in the direction of Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny and winks at his twin, “I’m going to go and have a chat with that lot while George continues to embarrass himself with his rubbish flirting.”

George is upset when he realizes that Fred is far enough away from him that he’s unable to kick him quite hard underneath the table. But then, much to his surprise—and delight—you respond to Fred with, “His flirting isn’t rubbish.” Then, you turn to George with a slight little smirk and continue, “it’s quite cute, actually.”

George finds himself biting down on his lip to keep from smiling too much as he watches you twirl your spoon carefully in your fingers. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I swear to Merlin,” Fred says under his breath, but both you and George are still able to hear him.

“Oi! Get over here, you three!” Ron calls from a few seats down. Hermione rolls her eyes when he continues, “We’re placing bets on how the Hufflepuff versus Slytherin match is going to go next week—first of the year!”

Fred jumps in between Ginny and Ron and begins animatedly discussing the first match. To you, George shrugs his shoulders and says, “We’ve been summoned.”

“Too bad,” you say, picking up your bag to take your spot next to Hermione before continuing with a bit of flirty sarcasm in your voice, “that little smirk of yours was getting me all flustered.”

The banter between you both hardly gets George all worked up anymore. In fact, it’s pretty normal for the two of you, and has been for years. But sometimes, he finds himself thinking now, you’ll say something, or do something, or bat those beautiful long eyelashes at him and he feels nothing but nervousness take him over. This is one of those times. You notice the tension rising between you both, alongside the cherry red color now flooding his face. You squeeze his arm and say playfully, “C’mon now, Georgie—we’ve got bets to place.”

Another bout of nervousness creeps up on him when you pull him by his arm and you place yourself down next to Hermione. Harry, Ginny and Fred are all discussing the upcoming matches very animatedly, Ron is pulling at his hair due to confusion and stress, Hermione is immersed in her spell book, but when George looks down, all he can focus on is the very small amount of space on the bench between his hand and yours.

— -

The sun is flooding the Hogwarts grounds, and it’s quite warm for an autumn afternoon. George, Fred, Lee, Harry, Ron, and Neville are all sitting beneath a tree near the water’s edge, certainly not working on the assignments they’d planned on doing, but instead, engaging in what could only be described as tomfoolery and a complete and utter waste of time.

Fred is laying in the grass, one hand behind his head, the other twirling his wand in between his fingers. He’s saying something to the others, there’s a bit of mock laughter floating through the air, but all George can do is watch you up near the castle, immersed in a conversation with Ginny and Luna and a few other students, and he can’t help but smile as he watches you place your bag gently on the ground and proceed to engage in some type of hopscotch-like jumps.

When Lee throws his hands up at the fact that George is completely ignoring him, Ron shoves his older brother playfully and says to the others, “You’ll have to excuse him.”

“You see,” Fred continues, “little Georgie here is quite in love—”

“—and he can’t seem to focus on anything,” Harry finishes.

“Shove off,” George retorts before sticking out his foot to trip Ron, which sends his younger brother into the grass while another roar of raucous laughter echoes across the grounds.

“So Georgie,” Ron says, getting to his feet and brushing the dirt off of his robes, “today the day then, mate? Finally going to tell her how you feel?”

Fred chimes in with his eyes closed, “He doesn’t need to tell her how he feels, he makes it rather obvious, doesn’t he? I reckon she’s known for years.” In his heart of hearts, George knows this, too. He doesn’t exactly hide the fact that he’s mad for you. But he wonders, now, as he watches you laugh at something Ginny says, if you know deep down how he truly feels. Do you just see it as him being playful, overly friendly—flirting just for the sake of it? Or can you really tell that he actually does have feelings for you?

It’s as if his thoughts alone call out like a signal to you, because he’s taken by surprise when you peer up at him when he’s not fully prepared, and you wink. And there they are. Those butterflies again. He smirks mischievously at you.

“Settle down, you lot,” Fred says rather politically to the crowd of rambunctious boys. George finds himself finally coming back to the conversation after being a bit distracted yet again. Always letting his mind wander, he is. “All in favor of placing bets on when Georgie, here, finally makes a move? Yes, Lee—I am planning on winning this one, actually, nobody knows my twin better than me.”

“I’d like in on these bets,” George says suddenly, taking the entire group by surprise.

“You can’t place a bet on yourself,” Ron says through laughter.

Harry and Neville say together, “I think he should be allowed.” Harry continues, “Would make for quite the adventure, don’t you reckon?”

Fred peers at George, who’s standing now, with his hands in his pockets, glimpsing back and forth between you and his friends, waiting patiently for his twin to make a decision. A very slow decision, George comes to realize.

“Alright then, George,” Fred finally agrees, sticking out his hand for a very professional, firm handshake, “you’re in. What’ve you got for us?”

“Give me a week,” George says. A week? There’s no denying that George Weasley’s a confident bloke, but when it comes to confessing his feelings to the girl he’s been pining over for years, well—even hearing himself say it now sends a bit of a chill down his spine. “Seven days. If I don’t do anything by Sunday evening’s feast, you lot win. Alright?”

George looks around the group, each and every one of the boys has raised eyebrows. But they all nod in agreement, and the feeling of dread suddenly looms over George—he can handle it though, can’t he? Fred notices his skittishness and says with a bit of a smirk, “See you on the other side, mate.”

— -

It’s been four and a half days since George stupidly decided to get involved in Fred’s antics, and the boys have absolutely no problem reminding him that less than seventy-two hours remain for him to finally “make a bloody move already.” This isn’t helping George’s nerves—nor are the winks you’re sending him from across classrooms, as your entire friend group is creating mischief right under your nose.

“Hey, wait up!” Your voice bounces off of the walls in the corridors as you frantically hurry through the sea of students to catch up with George, who’s heading to Potions with Fred, rather reluctantly, of course. Fred begins trying to poke George in the ribs, winks, and vanishes before you can even notice he’s there, leaving you and George alone near the entrance to the dungeons.

“Hey you,” he says and immediately regrets how cheesy it sounds in his own ears. Quick to hide the fact that he’s very embarrassed, he continues, “what’s going on?”

“What’s going on with all of you?” you ask curiously. “Fred keeps telling me that we’re all in for a rather exciting weekend, but as far as I’m concerned, I have absolutely nothing planned except to sit outside and read. Yes, a very wild few days, I know—” you say when George stifles a bit of laughter, “—so, you want to tell me what you have planned? Some sort of major prank, or something?”

You’re essentially giving him an opening and George isn’t sure why he’s not just asking you out right now. It’s the perfect opportunity! Not yet, he thinks. There’s still around seventy-something hours, or so. Instead, he opts to go for something different. “Oh, erm, there’s some—Gryffindor bloke who’s been mad for this girl for years and hasn’t told her yet, so we’ve all placed bets on when he’ll finally do something about it—next few days, apparently..”

“Really?” you ask, intrigued. You wiggle your eyebrows at him and clutch your books tighter in your arms. “Who is it?”

“Can’t tell you that, Y/N,” George replies with a smirk, “That’d be breaking the rules, wouldn’t it?”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, fine, I’m not even going to try and argue. How much time has he got left?”

George swallows thickly, thinking of the ticking clock, and says, “Til Sunday evening.” The words sound foreign in his mouth. He can feel his face flush and much to his dismay, you certainly seem to notice.

“Two and a half days, huh?” you ask, clicking your tongue. You inch forward to him and continue in a lower voice, “that’s not a lot of time, is it?”

George swallows again. He has a love, hate relationship with the effect you have on him. “No, certainly isn’t.”

“Think he’ll do it in time?”

“Well, he’s got too, hasn’t he?”

You send a mischievous grin his way, and he’s surprised he isn’t falling to the ground right now. He’s being supported by none other than caffeine and his own nerves. His heart is nearly pounding out of his chest when you look up at him with those sparkling eyes. He can tell now, by the look you’re giving him, that you’ve easily unraveled this. You know. You’ve got too. You’ve completely read him like a book and at this point you’re just teasing him mercilessly. He bites back a smile. “Certainly hope he does—can’t keep the poor girl waiting, can he?” you say now, taking one step closer to him, now just inches from one another. You place your hand on his arm, squeeze tightly, and shoot a teasing, cheeky grin in his direction. Then, you pull back, shrug your shoulders, take a deep breath, and leave George breathless before continuing down the corridor, “Anyway—see you later? Stay out of trouble, Weasley.”

You wink before vanishing completely. When you’re completely out of sight, George actually tightens the grip on his bag and falls back into the wall and to the ground in some sort of emotional, flustered chaos. He’s grinning from ear to ear and is feeling incredibly elated but also beyond frustrated at himself. He should be kissing you by now, but instead, he’s biting his lip in pain due to a sharp blow to his shin.

“You’re an idiot,” Fred says now, and George realizes he’s been hiding around a corner this entire time. “Like putty in her hands, you are. Pathetic. She just gave you an in, mate! And you didn’t even take it!” Ron and Harry are on the other end of the corridor, laughing at this exchange they’ve just witnessed, when they make their way over to the doubled-over George.

“Relax,” George tells them once he regains his balance. “I’ve got to lay the foundation, haven’t I? ‘M taking my time. Still have two and a half days, like she said.” Foundation. You two have known each other for years already.

Fred slings both arms around Ron and Harry and glances cheekily at his twin brother, shaking his head in utter disappointment. “Maybe so, Georgie. But I reckon you’re still an idiot.”

— -

George slumps into the Great Hall rather begrudgingly, not at all looking forward to this feast. At the Gryffindor table are Fred, Ron, Harry, Ginny, Hermione, Lee, Neville and many others who look up and begin to clap sarcastically at the sight of him. George narrows his eyes at them and sits down on one of the benches and places his head directly onto the table.

“Why so glum, Georgie?” Ginny and Hermione ask teasingly.

As predicted by the others, George unfortunately had let time run out. Many opportunities had been handed to him, of course, but had he seized any? No. He absolutely hadn’t. Fred sticks out a hand and nods to the others to follow suit. “Cough it up, mate. One sickle each.”

“Oi, let the poor bloke wallow a bit first,” Ron jokes. George is already feeling poorly. He’d been so stressed about this stupid bet that he forgot to hand in his Herbology assignment, he had an absolutely rubbish Quidditch practice yesterday, and, on top of it all, the gloomy, rainy weather outside is not helping to lift his spirits at all. He groans. In a voice muffled by his face leaning directly on the table, he says to nobody in particular, “I’m an idiot. I’m an idiot who’s in love and I reckon I will be forever.” The others do their best to try and stifle some mock laughter, but George can’t help to let a small, pathetic laugh escape his lips, too.

“It’s alright, then,” Neville says in a low voice, “you don’t have to pay me. I know first hand just how scary it can be..” he glances in the direction of a shy looking Hufflepuff.

But then, when George looks up and rubs his eyes due to exhaustion, he notices a couple entering the entrance of the Great Hall. A Ravenclaw boy is draping his own robes over a tiny Slytherin girl who, by the looks of it, unfortunately has just been caught in that rainstorm outside. Together they huddle closer to one another, laughing at the sight of her drenched clothes and hair. George stands up, quickly throws a bunch of sickles onto the table in front of his friends and says to nobody in particular, “Reckon I can still win in the end!” He’s just got to get over himself.

“No,” Fred laughs through a mouthful of potatoes, looking down at the sickles on the table, “it’s quite obvious that you’ve definitely lost this one, mate.”

But George ignores this, and instead runs through the crowd of students and out of the Great Hall and straight out into the rain. The wind is rather blustery, he comes to realize. Two seconds outside and his clothes are already soaked through, but he’s not regretting his decision—not when he sees you splashing in a puddle a few feet away. He smiles genuinely at the sight of you.

“Hey!” you yell over the howling wind. Your voice continues to soften as he gets closer to you, “You told me you don’t like the rain! If you’ve been lying to me this entire time, then, I suppose you owe me a Butterbeer in Hogsmeade.”

You’re quite a sight to behold. Your white button down shirt is soaked through, tie askew, cardigan wet and dripping and shoes covered in mud. Your soaked hair is plastered to the sides of your face, and your cheeks are the natural rosy color they always are, but it seems to make your eyes sparkle even more so than usual. You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You bite down on your lip as George walks over to you, his uniform completely drenched from the rain, and he brushes your hair out of your face and presses his lips to yours.

And first kisses are meant to be chaste, soft, innocent—but nothing George Weasley does is ever innocent. He smiles against you, biting on your bottom lip just a bit before melting into you again, his hands wrapped tightly around the back of your neck, his fingers getting entangled in your wet hair. It’s eager and hungry and desperate. He can feel your hands slip underneath his shirt, spread out over his ribs and abdomen and hip bones, and soft, small moans escape his lips in the surprise of the moment.

When the two of you finally pull apart, he peers closely at the droplets of water on your eyelashes, falling down your cheekbones every single time you blink, “It’s a date.”

You peer down at your watch, noting the time and peering inside the entrance to the castle in the direction of the Great Hall. With a sensual smirk, you ask him, “So—that bloke lose the bet then?”

“Yeah, he did,” George tells you now. The wind is picking up, the rain coming down sideways now. He swallows over a lump in his throat but lets out a small laugh, “but a few lost sickles isn’t a big deal—not compared to what he won, at least.”

You sling your arms around his neck and run your hands through his wet hair, teasing him slightly, “Well at least he finally did something about it.”

“Sorry it took me so long, darling.”

“No apologies needed,” you reply, leaving light kisses against his lips, “but you owe me, now.”

“Yeah, the Butterbeer in Hogsmeade.” he agrees, tightening his grip around your waist, eager to get his lips back on yours, “haven’t we established this?”

You throw your head back and let hearty laughter escape your lips. “You’re adorable. No, my love, you owe me for lost time. Best find a way to sneak up to the girls dormitory tonight—and don’t get caught.”

He laughs fully now, poking you in the ribs as nervousness and adrenaline course through his veins. He’s counting down the seconds until he can, undoubtedly, fly in through your open window tonight. You pull on his shirt to get him back into the castle; there’s no part of your bodies or clothing that are dry now. But he grabs your hands and pulls you back toward him, still standing directly in line of the rain and the wind, and he continues to move fat strands of wet hair out of your face. “What’re you doing, Georgie? Thought you didn’t like the rain?”

He wraps his hands around the back of your neck again and pulls you closer. Against your lips, he says through a cheeky grin, “I reckon I can get used to it now.”

reblogs & feedback are always greatly appreciated!

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vs-redemption · 4 years ago

Text

From Cindy: I’ve been in a horrible mood the past few days for literally no reason. For some reason, I’ve also been thinking about Oikawa. So I wrote this.

Cranky (Friend!Oikawa x Grumpy!Reader)

You weren’t sure how or why, but you had somehow woken up with a bug up your ass that morning. Ordinarily you were a decently approachable person, but the first sign of trouble was when one of your university roommates greeted you cheerfully and it felt more like someone poking at an exposed nerve than a warm hello. Somehow, you managed to force a smile and wave back despite the less than friendly retorts threatening to spill from your lips. The surge of unprovoked anger caught you off guard, and you knew you had to do something fast if you wanted to make it through the day without physically assaulting someone for no reason.

On your way to your first class, you stopped by the vending machines to get a canned coffee and granola bar, hoping to calm the raging monster inside of you by putting some food in your belly. Hunger did not seem to be the root of the problem though because you couldn’t make it even fifteen minutes through your lecture before getting the urge to set the entire building on fire. Your poor professor was trying so hard to plant knowledge in your brain, but just the sound of his voice made you want to box your own ears. You excuse yourself from the class as politely as possible and make a beeline towards one of the empty picnic tables on the campus grounds. Luckily, nobody was hanging around outside since it was chilly day with light drizzling rain that came on and off in spurts. You sat down on the damp seat, flipped your hood over your head, and tried to think of happy thoughts.

For a moment, you are able to empty your mind but the sound of your name cutting through the static background noise of wind and distant talking pulls you back to reality. You look up and grimace at the tall familiar figure of your friend tiptoeing awkwardly across the wet grass towards you, holding an umbrella over his head to protect his hair from the rain. He comes to stand over you with a calculating look of concern on his face.

“I thought I saw you sitting over here,” he tilts his head and puts a hand to his chin. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class right now?” There was only innocent curiosity in his question, but the slight whine of his voice made you want to strangle him.

“Go away Oikawa,” you bite out the words as nonaggressive as possible, but you can tell you failed by the pout on your friend’s pretty face.

“That’s not very nice,” he huffs. “And what’s with the last name, huh? Did I do something to make you mad?”

“No!” You accidentally snap, quickly closing your eyes and taking a deep breath through your nose. When you look back at Oikawa his big chocolate brown eyes are wide in shock.

“No,” you repeat more calmly. “You didn’t do anything. I’m just a cranky bear today.”

“Well that’s not good,” His face turns sympathetic for a moment before reverting to fear when you throw a deadly glare in his direction. “Okay!” He puts up a hand in surrender and smiles sheepishly. “I’ll leave you alone then, but can you at least promise me you’ll come out of the rain? We don’t want you catching a cold!”

“Yeahhh,” you could at least agree to that much. “Fine.” You knew he was right and that you shouldn’t be sitting out in the cold, so you lift yourself off the wet picnic table bench, the damp feeling on your bottom providing an extra helping onto the growing mountain of annoyance.

“Ok, on your way.” Oikawa’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he gently shoos you in the direction of your dormitory with an overly kind smile. You turn around to glare at him over your shoulder.

“I’m going!” You tell him sharply, “You don’t have to push me!” Oikawa quickly retracts his hand, letting out a nervous laugh.

“Hmm, you definitely woke up on the wrong side of the bed today,” he hums your name thoughtfully. “Try to feel better though, okay?”

You resist the urge to give him the finger as you set off, more to put distance between you both now than to get out of the icky weather. You knew Oikawa meant well, and normally you’d be more than happy to spend time with him. The last thing you wanted to do was give him a hard time since you knew he got enough of that from his teammates on the volleyball team.

When you get back to your room, you peel off your wet clothes and throw on a pair of pajamas, determined to spend the rest of the day in seclusion. Hopefully after some rest you’d default back to your normal personality settings and not have to worry about biting anyone’s head off. You plop down at your computer desk and pull up the mellowest playlist you can find before cracking open the textbook of the class you’d ditched. Not much times passed at all before three loud knocks had you glaring at the door. You consider just ignoring the visitor until they got the hint, but then you heard Oikawa’s familiar voice cooing your name from the other side.

“What?!” you nearly rip the door off its hinges, feeling prepared to give your poor friend an earful. Your words die on your tongue though when you see him holding out a peace offering. It was a steaming cup of tea and your favorite bagel sandwich from the campus café. Before you can remember to yell at him, he pushes the gifts into your hands and lets himself into your room.

“Tooru?” You were at a loss for what to say as you watch him walk over to your desk and start clearing away your books and assignments. “Tooru, what the hell are you doing?”

“Ah, it’s good to hear my name again,” He says teasingly, watching your face for any signs that you might attack. “But I still sense some hostility. Go ahead and eat your snack and we’ll see how you feel after that.” He situates himself on the beanbag chair on the floor and starts scrolling through his phone silently, giving you your space. You eye him for a moment, wondering if he really planned on staying quiet. You unwrap the sandwich and slowly start to munch it down, sipping on the hot tea after every couple bites.

“Tooru,” you try to strike up a conversation again once you finish eating, but Oikawa simply smiles and holds a finger to his lips.

“Shh,” he stands up and walks over to your bed to pull back your blankets. You look at him as if he’d lost his mind, but he just gestures for you to climb in. You weren’t sure what exactly was happening but decided to play long out of curiosity.

“Are you seriously tucking me in?” You ask, a small laugh escaping your lips as he pulls the blanket up to your chin dramatically.

“And there’s a smile,” he says victoriously before reaching down to pat you on the head. “Who knew a cranky bear could look so adorable?”

“I…” your face heats up at the words that had rendered you speechless. Oikawa simply turns around and starts gathering up the empty wrappers from your sandwich to throw them away.

“How are you still single?” You blurt out the question before it even finishes processing in your brain. Oikawa’s head swivels around to look at you in surprise.

“Uh,” he reaches up to scratch at the back of his head in embarrassment. “I’ve been told it’s because I spend too much time playing volleyball.” You scrunch up your face at his explanation and Oikawa fears he’s somehow triggered your wrath again.

“Well, if you’re comfortable, I guess I’ll be going now!” He chuckles awkwardly.

“Wait,” you say before he can get too far.

“Yes?” he tilts his head, “do you need something else?”

“Uh,” you avert your eyes. “Stay?”

The request throws Oikawa off completely and you see his confidence waver slightly.

“You actually want me to?” He asks skeptically. You raise your eyebrows at him challengingly, even though you weren’t very intimidating anymore now that you looked all cute and bundled up. You lift up the blanket as an invitation, making Oikawa look even less sure.

“Are you luring me in so you can kill me?” he asks jokingly.

“Just get over here,” what little patience you’d built up was gone again, but at least the snap in your tone had gotten Oikawa moving. He kicks off his shoes and carefully slides under the covers next to you.

“You know, I never expected such bold behavior from you,” he says playfully in his slightly whiny tone, his nervousness disappearing for a moment.

“Let’s go back to being quiet now,” you reply while closing your eyes and settling in.

“Jeez, that’s not very nice,” Oikawa huffs, eliciting another giggle from you. He sighs dramatically but takes his chances at being scolded further by snaking an arm around you to pull you closer. When there are no signs of protest from you, his body relaxes and he hums happily.

“Hey Tooru,” you whisper after a moment.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for being nice to me even though I’m grumpy,” you mumble into his chest.

“No need to thank me,” He assures you while tucking your head under his chin and rubbing your back softly. “You’re as important to me as my teammates, you know? So, just like with them, I have to set you up for success and make sure you’re playing at one hundred percent.”

Even though it was a cheesy volleyball metaphor, you couldn’t help but find Oikawa’s admission to be very sweet. You’d known for a while that his volleyball friends sometimes underestimated or misjudged him due to his bizarre mannerisms, but perhaps you hadn’t known him as well as you’d thought either. It was kind of amazing that he could make you feel so warm and content on a day where you’d woken up feeling so moody and agitated. It was a new side of Oikawa that had you looking at him in a different way. Hopefully, when you woke up, you’d feel a bit better so that you could explore that side of him even more.

#tooru oikawa x reader #oikawa x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #Tooru Oikawa #Haikyuu #Cindy's Writing

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sixmapleleafs · 5 years ago

Text

having fun? // frederik andersen

Summary: A somewhat complicated past makes bubble life a hell of a lot more interesting

“Holy shit” you mumbled, your body was still buzzing from the three orgasms you’d just given yourself and your heart was beating so fast you could actually hear it. You didn’t think it would be this hard to keep quiet yet the bite marks on your arm told a different story, wiping your fingers off you silently cursed yourself for not packing your vibrator and there was no way you were going to get your roommate to just drop it off at reception for you to collect later. In all honesty you didn’t think you’d need it, everyday was incredibly busy and being a physical therapist for the leafs meant you were being summoned left, right and centre. That being said, there was also a lot of down time where the boys would go off to play video games, your coworkers would go to FaceTime their families and you’d be left to entertain yourself. You’d also made the mistake of thinking you’d be able to spend this much time with him without needing some type of release.

It had been almost six months since you’d had his head between your legs but that didn’t mean the image wasn’t burned into your brain. It had been the reason you were seeing stars about five minutes ago after all. You huffed in annoyance as your body returned to normal, you hated that you were so attracted to him and you hated that since he’d spent the night at your place no other guy had been able to get you off. He was the best you’d ever had, not to mention the biggest and it seemed as if no other man would ever be able to compare. If you were being honest, you didn’t really want anyone else but you couldn’t have him and you had to accept that. Your career was more important than a little crush and now that you were literally stuck together you didn’t want to risk anyone finding out.

Deciding on a shower before bed you hopped off the bed towards the bathroom, you had to attend a practice very early the next morning and you already knew you would hit the snooze button until five minutes before you had to be there. Steam quickly filled the small bathroom, fogging up the mirror a little. A dramatic sigh fell from your lips when the hot water hit your skin.

Freddie’s phone landed on the bed with a slight thud, the container of food in his hand was still warm and smelled amazing but the thought of eating alone in his room every night kind of put a damper on his mood. Reaching for the tv remote his head snapped up at the sound of a familiar moan, immediately he looked over at the wall as if he’d be able to see through it somehow. His first thought was that he’d misheard, chances were it wasn’t a moan and just a random noise from something or maybe it was his brain playing tricks on him, wishful thinking of some sort. But then it happened again. He knew exactly who was on the other side of the wall, of course he did, a mix up at the hotel had been a blessing in Freddie’s eyes. A wave of jealousy washed over him as he sat the container down on the desk in the corner of the room, there was no way you were in there with a guy was there? Was it one of his teammates? Someone from the teams staff? A player from another team? The questions were flooding Freddie’s brain and he could feel his blood start to boil, if only the season hadn’t been cut off and he hadn’t of headed to Arizona with Auston then he’d probably be the one fucking you. Before he could process what he was doing his phone was in his hand and he was typing out the message.

Having fun?

Scrolling through your notifications the next morning you almost spat out your coffee, you were stood at the back of the locker room ‘listening’ to Sheldon give his daily speech about working on issues and staying safe so your near death experience had caught the attention of a few players near you. “Everything ok?” Mitch questioned, unintentionally drawing the attention of the entire room over to you. You nodded claiming you were just drinking your coffee too fast, everyone nodded and turned back to Sheldon including yourself which meant you missed the smirk plastered on Freddie’s face.

The message haunted you throughout the entire practice, having fun? What does that even mean? Did he hear you last night? But you did everything you could to be quiet? You tried your best to focus on the boys and listen to the senior physical therapists when they pointed out how the way certain players approached each other would make them vulnerable to a variety of different injuries if it was a real game and their opponent didn’t stop before colliding with them. You nodded along but you couldn’t help thinking they were just trying to give you something to think about during practices since you had to sit there everyday and watch essentially the same thing over and over again. Being in the bubble and not playing any games yet meant there were no injuries or players to help since everyone who’d been selected was fit and healthy. You did help Robertson a few times with ways to help the general aches and pains that came with playing against men twice his age, but other than that you were simply watching until you were needed which hopefully wouldn’t be any time soon.

Sheldon called you over once the boys had skated off the ice and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, you hadn’t seen anyone fall or get hit. He greeted you as you fell into step along side him, he was heading towards the locker room which meant he needed you to assess a player. “Andersen has been complaining about his shoulder, I don’t think it’s anything serious but I’d like you to just talk with him and maybe take a look just in case” he explained. Your mouth went dry at the sound of his name and you opened and closed it a few times before finally telling him it would be no problem at all. “Everybody decent?” There was a collective “yeah” and then he was calling you in and directing you over to Freddie’s stall, as if you didn’t know where it was already.

“I hear your shoulder has been bothering you” Freddie saw right through your attempt to remain professional, he knew what you really wanted to say was more along the lines of, what do you mean am I having fun? but he played along nonetheless. He explained the ‘problem’ as the other guys started leaving the locker room, the equipment managers and coaches following them until it was just you two.

“So was it anyone I know?” His question caught you off guard, you swallowed the lump in your throat before turning to him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” you tried to play it off but he just scoffed making you roll your eyes.

“Are we really going to play this game? Come on y/n I already know you were with someone last night” he said standing up, you’d forgotten how tall he really was and his size plus the look he was giving you was very intimidating but you couldn’t deny the tingling between your legs. He was so close to you that you could practically feel the anger radiating off of him.

“Why do you care so much?” You folded your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow when you saw his gaze flicker down for a split second. “Are you jealous Fred?” You taunted, secretly loving the way his fists clenched and his breathing got heavier at the lack of information you gave him. He let out what could only be described as a growl before he was lifting you up and turning around so you were now stood on the bench in his stall.

“You’re loving this aren’t you? Getting me all worked up over the thought of someone else fucking you” he rested his hands on your waist, slipping the hem of the leafs shirt you were wearing between his fingers as he looked down at you. You hooked your arms around his neck, now at a height where it was easier to look him in the eye.

“Like I said Fred, I have no clue what you’re talking about. I wasn’t with anybody last night” your tone was suggestive and from the look of relief on Freddie’s face he caught what you were saying.

“Oh really?” His tone was much lighter now, he looked less like he wanted to knock a guy out and more like he was enjoying where this was going. You hummed in response sending him a suggestive smile.

“It was just me. All alone...” you trailed off moving your hands up to the curls at the bottom of his neck, subconsciously moving yourself closer to him. He wrapped his arms around you so there was no space between the two of you. Suddenly you were pushing him off you jumping down from the bench and making yourself look busy.

“Y/n. What’s the diagnosis?” Sheldon said as he entered the room, Freddie’s face relaxed as he realised why you’d pushed him off you. Sending you a quick wink when his coach wasn’t looking. Needless to say, you weren’t surprised when he was knocking on your door in the early hours of the morning.

#frederik andersen #frederik andersen imagine #freddie andersen #freddie andersen imagine #hockey imagines #nhlimagines #hockey imagine #nhl imagine

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footballxwrites · 4 years ago

Note

One w DCL where you’re pregnant so a bit clingy and he’s talking to Tom on the phone and says that he wanted some space or whatever and you overhear it and you have an argument about it. You say that with your hormones and the fact that you’re literally carrying his child, wanting to around him more and wanting some extra but of attention was understandable but since he can’t get it and wants to be selfish and not understand it, you’ll give him space. So you start doing a lot of things without him and keeping your distance even though your hormones clearly want him but you’re too mad. As a days pass, he starts to feel like a crap partner since you’re going through so much bringing your baby into the world and he’s being an asshole about you just wanting the comfort of your husband and baby daddy. Slowly by steadily he makes it up to you.

Wanting some space

Hope you like it lovely, sorry it took so long <3

It was clear you weren’t supposed to hear the conversation between him and his teammate seeing as he was sat in the living room at 1 in the morning whilst you were in bed, or so he thought, whispering about how “you’re constantly around him” and “he barely has a minute to himself”. Obviously that put you in the foulest of moods, being told you’re too clingy by your own husband, I mean that was bad enough but the fact he got by day in day out with a fake smile plastered across his face acting like nothing was bothering him when really he was sick of you.

The next day it was the usual of getting up to waddle your way to the kitchen, the best you could with your sore back and swollen feet, and like always him leaning over the counter top to kiss you and you normally going full on lovers kiss, but after last night you couldn’t even look him in the eye. As you dodged his lips, you continued to ignore him as you made your way to flick the kettle on to make a cuppa before leaning against the bench and staring at wall, the anger building up inside as you left him stood with a confused look and his eyebrows furrowed. “What was that for” Dom asked as he came up behind up and wrapped his arms around your waist, his hands finding your bump before you harshly shoved him off, “are you having a laugh” you replied in a disgusted tone as he let out a nervous laugh. “Eh I haven’t done anything” he defended, rolling his eyes, “pregnant women and their hormones” he continued, joking, “seriously” you blurted out, raising your voice “I can’t even be bothered with you when you’re being like this, oh wait you can’t be bothered with me either how funny” you sarcasticly laughed as he began to click onto what you were on about. “Yeah ring a bell does it, the little chat with your pal last night?” you stammered, trying not to have a breakdown in the middle of your kitchen, “Oh” was all he replied, letting out a sigh at the same time, “Well I’m sorry I’m around 24/7 and that I might just want that little extra bit notice from you, you know seeing as I’m carrying your baby and my emotions are all over the place at the minute, not to mention all the aches and pains I’m going through” you sobbed through a muffled voice. “Look I didn’t mean it like-“ he began as you interrupted, “save it, clearly I’m not wanted in my OWN house and by my own husband these days”, him just shaking his head as he ran his hand through his tight curls, “All I meant was, is it too much to ask to just be able to come in from training or a match and to not be fussed over or for you to be straight away whinging in my ear” he stressed as you stood purely shocked by what was coming out of his mouth. Basically, it broke out into a full on fight, the two of you throwing insults left right and centre, getting all the problems about each other off your chests before you walked out giving him the space he so much wanted.

—————————————————

The next few days were a nightmare, with both of you avoiding each other at all costs, you literally sneaking around you own house trying not to bump into him. You began doing most things by yourself, the food shop, cleaning the house to keep you occupied, going for a walk whilst he was at work, the two of you even sleeping in separate bedrooms, which deep down hurt you. You had the worst night’s sleep the last couples of nights, It feeling too weird going to sleep without him cuddling up next to you and wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his hands on your bump as he traces patterns across it, always trying to get “the little footballer inside you” to give you a little kick before you both dozed off. You couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty (mostly annoyed) for this, hating yourself at the fact you went on like two children, shouting the odds off, rather than sitting down to have a proper conversation and to sort it all out like reasonable 23 year olds.

—————————

Anyways after a whole week of the both of you not speaking, Dom knew yous couldn’t go on like this and was mentally kicking himself for saying that to Tom, of course he didn’t mean it, he was just having one of those days, an off day, and ended up rambling about everything to his mate, most of what he was saying not being true, but it broke his heart to know you heard all of that. So, one night he cooked tea for you coming home from work, going all out fancy for a change as usually it’d be his nutritionist preparing all his meals, and he knew that some daft dinner wasn’t going to make up for him being a total arsehole but hoped it would somewhat help bring yous back together as husband and wife once again. You came home to a massive plate of spaghetti sat on the table for you with a hot cup of tea and a happy, smiling Dom sat on the sofa, him wasting no time in engulfing you in the biggest hug, explaining how sorry he was and that he didn’t deserve you, which made you giggle a little before telling him you were also in the wrong and that you could see where he was coming with wanting some space. After a nice evening of relaxing on the sofa together watching whatever good was on, yous were back to your normal silly selves, completely forgetting about the ridiculous argument with you just being happy to know you wouldn’t be going to bed alone for another night ❤️

#football #footballer #football blurb #footballer imagine #dom calvert lewin #dominic calvert lewin #everton fc

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tobin-heaths · 5 years ago

Text

Perfect timing

request: Kellex x reader and the reader is young + you awake feeling sick but decide to act like everything is fine until it really isn’t

pairing: Kelley O’Hara/Alex Morgan x Reader

words: 1615

"Y/N, wake up." Someone was gently stroking your cheek. "No, leave me alone." You said groggily and turned onto your stomach, raising the blanket above your head.

Kelley looked over to Alex and giggled. "You try, babe." Alex shrugged her shoulders and laid down next to you. Reaching over she tugged the covers down a little so she was able to see your sleepy face.

"Kelley, give me my phone please." She whispered and took the phone from her girlfriend's hand. Blowing her a kiss as a thank you she captured a picture of your sleepy form.

Your hair was a mess all over the pillow and your mouth was slightly opened, a little drool leaking onto the fabric. Alex couldn't help but giggle. "You'll be late for breakfast if you don't get up now. Do you really want Dawn marching in here dragging you onto the field?"

You couldn't care less as you were feeling absolutely terrible. This had to be the worst night of your life. You were comfortably sleeping in your bed as suddenly a wave of nausea hit you, ultimately waking you up. On top of that came the headache.

You groaned and turned around leaning against the headboard. The headache was still there and made you wince. Your nausea was gone, to your delight. But nonetheless you missed a fair amount of sleep and your face was extremely pale.

"Are you feeling alright, love? Your face looks like a zombie." Alex chuckled.

"Real smooth, Alex. You know just how to make me feel better." You replied sarcastically. Both of them laughed.

As Alex received a message on her phone you turned towards Kelley. "To answer her question, I'm perfectly fine. Just sleepy, that's all." You forced a smile.

"Good, now get your ass out of bed and dress. Jill expects you down in ten minutes. We'll leave for training immediately after, make sure you pack all your stuff." The forward climbed out of bed and grabbed the keycard laying on the table.

"Should we wait for you?" Kelley asked. "No, no. Go ahead. I'll be down shortly." You nodded and motioned to the door.

Arriving at breakfast the whole team was there, typing on their phones, finishing their meals or having conversations. The smell of food hit your nose and as fast as your nausea was gone it came back.

Hopefully nobody would notice your condition, at least not the medical team or Dawn. It would mean no training and you desperately wanted to workout.

You strolled over to the table filled with your girlfriends and the rest of the gay club.

"How the hell did you manage to get her out of bed?" Pinoe asked and laughed as you reached the table, sitting down on the chair next to Tobin and Christen.

"It's not that hard, you just need the right techniques." Kelley replied.

"Right techniques my ass, Kels! I actually decided to get up after they threatened me with Dawn." You answered with a pout as the rest of the table fell into laughter.

"Nice picture by the way." Lindsey appeared behind you, kissing your cheek and running off. Whipping around you stared after her in disbelief.

"What photo? Wait– you did not show her the photo right?" You looked back at your girlfriends with a frown.

"I don't know what you mean. Kelley, do you know what she's talking about?" Alex asked. "No idea." Kelley shook her head.

"Everybody saw." Pinoe said in a bored tone as if it wouldn't be the most embarrassing thing for you.

"What?" You exclaimed and watched all of them laughing, Ashlyn, about to fall from her chair, hit the table with her first repeatedly.

"Don't mind them. They're just kids. Why don't you get some food, Y/N?" Christen turned to you with a kind smile. Bless her good soul.

"Oh, uh. Yeah sure. Thanks, Chris." You said and reluctantly stood up. Your tired legs dragged you over to all the food, deciding scrambled eggs should be enough and returned back to your table.

"That's all you're gonna eat?" Tobin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Shhh, don't be so loud, Tobes. They might hear you and then I'm dead." You pointed over to Alex and Kelley, who were deep in a conversation with Ali and Julie, who had turned around in her seat to talk to them.

Tobin held her hands up and continued her conversation with Christen and Ashlyn.

Now that you were left alone in between everyone you looked down to your food, the sight making you sicker. No chance you could finish this all without throwing up on the table.

Unbeknownst to you Christen was keeping an eye on you since you stepped through the door. The way your face was looking worried her and now that you had trouble touching your food she immediately knew what was up. She leaned towards you.

"Y/N? If you cannot manage to eat this then don't. If you're sick you should see medical staff immediately. You should not workout today!" She whispered and you halted with the fork in your hand.

"What are you talking about? I'm fine, just tired. That's all. See?" You promised and shoved egg after egg into you. You had trouble keeping the food inside your stomach and forced a smile for Christen once the plate was empty.

Once the horrible breakfast was done and you still managed to appear somewhat normal it was time to stretch and warm up. You managed to get through that in one try, your energy running low very fast.

The nausea became too much at one point, it was hard to keep your posture. You knew it was only a matter of time until you'd throw up.

"Alex, I don't like this one bit." Kelley said as the both of them sat on the bench, tying their cleats, watching you get ready for some sprints, holding your stomach with a pained expression.

You were up to run with Crystal and Julie, Dawn giving you the signal to start. You tried your best to run as fast as possible but in your current state that wasn't very much.

Your legs slowed until you had to stop completely to take deep breaths. Your eyes widened as you felt the vomit coming up.

You ran off the field and to the nearest thrash can, emptying your stomach with teary eyes.

Your girlfriends were the first ones to jump into action, calling for a medical and running over to your side. "Y/N!" Alex was the first one to reach you and placed her hand on your back. Kelley joined the other side.

You sank to the floor as soon as you had emptied your whole stomach and gagged at the taste left in your mouth, both women taking you into their arms.

"Why didn't you tell anyone that you're sick?" The forward asked concerned. "I can't believe you wanted to pull through like this."

"It actually feels better now that I've thrown up." You declared and waited for Dawn and Medicals to arrive, both women not leaving your side for one second.

"Y/N! What is going on here? Care to explain?" Dawn asked, obviously a little bit too worried about you, since you were the youngest on the team right now.

They knelt down in front of you trying to reach your side but neither Alex or Kelley seemed ready to leave your side.

"Ladies, please. I know you're worried but we need the space." You looked towards Kelley, the brunette was rolling her eyes and reluctantly stood up, taking Alex with her.

"Fine, but we stay right behind you." You groaned at her words. "Guys, I appreciate it but really! I'm fine!" You protested.

"We will see." One of the medics mumbled. "For now let's get you off the field so the others can go back to working. Let's go, ladies!" Dawn yelled and clapped her hands to shoo your teammates away.

"You know that this will be it for a few days at least right? We will go over this with Jill later. How's her pulse?" Dawn asked while Alex gently rubbed your shoulder.

"It's a bit too low for my liking, I know she said she feels better but that might be so for only a moment. We have to take her inside." He explained, letting go of your arm. "Can you stand up?" Another woman asked, all of them rising to their feet in front of you.

"I guess, lemme try." With the help of Kelley you managed to get back onto your shaky feet.

Together they walked you off the field and towards the locker rooms. "Guys, I love you, but you gotta get back to training." You nudged Alex and smiled at her.

"No, I will not leave your side, you're my baby, I stay with you." She stated and your cheeks tainted pink. "I'm not a baby." You grumbled in embarrassment.

"It's alright, if Alex can stay I'll get back to it. Just make sure she'll be fine." Kelley said as you reached the destined room and kissed your cheek before running off after you nodded.

“Alright, let’s sit you down here and get to work. Alex you can sit down there.” Dawn pointed towards a chair next to the treatment bench as your pulse was measured once you emptied a glass of water. Alex smiled tenderly and grabbed your unoccupied hand.

All in all you’d be missing training for at least until you completely recover as to not worsen your situation but with the help of Alex and Kelley it won’t be too boring.

#kelley o’hara imagines #alex morgan imagines #uswnt imagines #kelley o'hara #alex morgan #uswnt #woso imagines #woso

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depressedkakashihatake-fics · 4 years ago

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Injuries Bringing Us Together

Hatake Kakashi/Maito Gai

2028 Words

Kiss: Palm of the Hand kiss

For: @alumort @temarihime @trekkie-in-space (who came up with the beautiful idea of a fic)

Itchy

There was an urge deep down inside of Kakashi’s soul. One that screamed at him to rip off the cast that the medical ninja had just finished putting on his hand after he had destroyed the last one. He was barely able to contain the urge with a reminder that the medical ninja had specifically threatened him with placing him off duty for a month as punishment if he had to come in again for another new cast.

A week was bad enough. If he had to stay in the village for an entire month he was likely to murder someone, and that would just get him into more trouble.

For the first time in his career as a shinobi, Kakashi was actually angry with an enemy because of what they did to him. Not for hurting his teammates, or putting civilians in danger. No, he was used to being mad at enemy shinobi for things like that.

Today though, he was angry about his hand.

Specifically, about the moment that his enemy had decided to break his hand to prevent him from using his chidori to attack them after they had realized he didn’t actually need to weave signs to produce the electricity in his hand.

That he had a jutsu he could perform even with his hands tied behind his back.

They were smart, he’d give them that. But that fact didn’t make him hate them any less when the biggest, heaviest member of their team stomped down on his right hand with all of his might, crushing his bones in an instant.

Really, it was a miracle that he had a hand left at all. That his bones hadn’t been reduced to powder under the force of that stomp, and that he had actually been able to force himself to produce a chidori even afterwards.

Though, that last part was sheer force of will. It had taken him 7 different attempts, and a lot of pain. His enemies had even laughed at him when they realized what he was trying to do.

They quickly stopped laughing when electricity started sparking in his hands, and by the time his teammates found him all three of their enemies were unconscious on the ground.

He still wasn’t exactly sure what he had done to manage that, since he had blacked out from the pain somewhere in the middle. Though he was guessing it probably had something to do with his chidori meeting the ground.

That had been his plan after all, so his body had likely taken over for him when his brain decided to shut down because of the pain he was in. He was just thankful that his teammates had found him before the enemy shinobi were able to wake up. There was no doubt in his mind they would have forgotten about getting him back to Suna for interrogation and decided instead to murder him right where they were.

Not the best way for a shinobi to die.

“Rival!” He recognized the voice immediately, but there was something missing. An overwhelmingly enthusiastic tone seemed to be absent, and that didn’t sit well with Kakashi. He didn’t like it at all.

Turning towards the voice he looked at the other man as he made his way towards him, and immediately started to scan Gai’s body for any sign of injury. His eyes zeroed in on the brace wrapped around his left bicep all the way down to his wrist.

Now he was worried.

“Rival, i was not expecting y-”

Whatever Gai was going to say was cut off when Kakashi surged forward, invading his personal space in a way he never had before and grabbing his left wrist and brought the injured arm up closer so he could take a better look at the brace.

For the first time since he had gotten home, Kakashi forgot about his own injury. His attention focused instead on Gai as he examined the brace. “What happened?” The question is simple but firm, and he knows it catches Gai off guard. It’s not normal for Kakashi to worry about anyone else when they’re in the village. Injuries happen to everyone. It was a common occurrence in the life of a shinobi.

But here he was, clearly agitated by Gai’s injury.

“I uh-” Gai closed his eyes and chuckled “I had a bit of a difficult mission with a much more skilled shinobi than I am used to. To win the fight I was forced to open the fifth gate for the first time and- well my body took issue with this.”

There was a reason he hated the eight gates. Ever since seeing Gai open the fourth gate for a mission, and had subsequently torn the muscles in his arm while delivering a deadly blow to their enemies abdomen. As useful as the gates were in a sticky situation, he hated seeing Gai in pain, and anything past the first gate always caused him some amount of pain.

Perhaps that was why Kakashi had stopped learning the gates himself when he had mastered the first gate, though he also didn’t feel the same drive as Gai to open all of them. Not to mention he didn’t think he could learn them all, not like Gai was able to. He didn’t have the same drive and abilities as Gai that allowed him to learn the gates, and part of him was thankful for that.

He had enough working against him with Obito’s sharingan in his eye socket. He didn’t need more help hurting himself from the right gates.

With his hand still clasped firmly around Gai’s wrist, Kakashi scanned over the brace once more. Trying to will it away in his own mind as if that would suddenly remove the injury from Gai.

“Kakashi,” Gai’s voice is soft and full of fondness when he says his name. “I’m fine. The Doctors said that it should be healed in a few days with a mixture of rest and medical ninjutsu.”

“Huh,” It was rare for both of them to be in the village at the same time any other day, but for both of them to have injuries that had them benched from missions for the next few days. That was improbable, and yet here they were. “I guess that means i’ll be seeing you around a bit more than usual.”

Not a situation he was particularly against. Though he was aware he came off as ‘cold’ and ‘dismissive’ of Gai most days, he really wasn’t trying to be. He just had a lot on his mind and it was hard to focus on anything but work and his own self deprecating thoughts when he barely had any time to breath between missions.

Maybe with some time off together he could make it up to Gai.

“How about a challenge,” The hope of relaxing with his friend during his time off came crashing down on him like a ton of bricks. Why was it that Gai always wanted to do a challenge when they were together? It was always the first thing that he asked for. “We could have a race.”

“With your arm?” Kakashi narrowed his eyes. “The doctors would kill you when you go back to them in worse shape than you left them in. Not a chance, Gai.” And that wasn’t even touching on the fact that his hand was broken and wouldn’t heal properly if he tried to use it in any way. Which did include running, unfortunately. Anything but keeping his hand at his side constantly would cause a fit of pain that he didn’t want to deal with.

“Ok then,” placing a finger against his chin, Gai started to think through his options while Kakashi continued to look over the brace on his left arm. There wasn’t really anything to look over a second time, but he couldn’t seem to drag his eyes away from it. “How about an arm wr- no that won’t work.”

“How about,” Gai’s eyes lit up as soon as Kakashi opened his mouth. It was so rare for the Sharingan user to suggest a challenge for them. “Janken.”

There’s a triumphant look on his face when Gai’s shoulders whole upper body collapses forward as if someone has just set an unbearable weight upon his shoulders. He really did enjoy bugging his friend a little too much some days.

“I’m kidding,” well only partially. “We could do a challenge that’s not too demanding. One that won’t get us in trouble for straining ourselves when we are supposed to be relaxing.”

With new life in his soul, Gai straightened up and beamed at Kakashi. “An eating contest!” He proclaimed, loud enough to catch the attention of everyone within a five meter radius of them. “At the Ramen shop. We have not had the chance to get some ramen together in a long time, rival.”

Food didn’t sound like a terrible idea, and Ramen was certainly a better choice than some of the other things the pair had eaten together in the past.

“Sure, why not,” He could handle a challenge. Especially if it meant spending some time with Gai that didn’t involve running around the village or getting face planted into the dirt in a spar. “But you have to promise to stop eating before you barf this time.”

The last thing either of them needed was Teuchi kicking them out of the shop because Gai made a mess on the floor. It was one of the few places that he liked to eat when he managed to find time to go out with his friends.

“I will make this promise, but only because i know i’m going to win this time,” As confident as ever, Gai threw his good hand out and gave Kakashi his signature ‘thumbs up’ pose. “And with this victory i will be two points ahead of you in our competitions.”

Ok, now he had to win. There was no way he could let Gai get too far ahead of him in their competition.

“Mmmm, we’ll see,” releasing his grip on Gai’s arm, Kakashi moved to take a step back only to have Gai reach out with his good hand and stop him. “Gai?”

“I just realized that it might be difficult for you to participate in an eating competition,” Kakashi was about to ask what Gai meant when the Taijutsu user moved his hand down to his wrist and carefully lifted his broken hand between them. It was a bit embarrassing to admit, but he had actually forgotten about his own injury while worrying about Gai. “Do we need to think of another competition, Rival?”

Warm.

There was a warm feeling deep inside of his chest when Gai asked that simple question with soft kind eyes. He couldn’t explain why the feeling had bloomed so suddenly, but he liked it.

It felt like home.

“I’ll be fine, Turtle,” Using the nickname he had given Gai only a few years ago, he smiled when he saw the way Gai’s eyes widened in surprise. “I’m ambidextrous. I can use my left hand to eat.”

Accepting the answer that he had been given, Gai turned his hand over so that it was facing palm up, and leaned down to press a kiss against the cast. Suddenly, the warm feeling in his chest blossomed into something else.

A feeling he wasn’t quite familiar with, but wasn’t completely new. It was something he always felt when Gai was being particularly soft with him, and he wished he could hold onto that feeling all the time.

Love.

That’s what Kushina-Sensei had called it the first time he described it to her, just days before the nine tails attack on the village.

“W-we should go,” He cringed when his voice cracked under the pressure of his embarrassment. “We have a competition t-to do.”

Standing up straight, Gai released his hold on Kakashi’s hand and gave him a bright smile. “You are correct,” He stepped forward and threw an arm around Kakashi’s shoulder, turning him 180 degrees and heading down the street. “To Ichiraku Ramen!”

#KakaGai #GaiKaka #Hatake Kakashi #Maito Gai #Kakashi Hatake/Maito Gai #Maito Gai/Hatake Kakashi #Fluff #Adorable boys being adorable

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mono-dot-jpeg · 5 years ago

Text

fries and milkshakes - k. tsukishima

Summary: A salty volleyball player and a pro gamer walk into a room, so many insults were made that day.

Word Count: 1.8k

Genre: Fluff, Enemies to Lovers, Pro Gamer! Reader, Open Ended (?)

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x Reader

a/n: purely a self indulgent fanfic bc salty shima is growing on my best friend :))) follow them if you haven’t >:(((( @mangobangi also a very fun quote was put in here from them as well skjdksjdk

"Waa~ the season is over! Thank god. I don't have to worry about practicing with Heesu!" You sighed blissfully. Now you weren't a pro at what would be called normal sports but you were definitely a pro at gaming.

You were (streamer/name), one of the pro players of Philadelphia Fusion from the Overwatch League. You were known for being one of the first females to join Overwatch League. It was a bumpy ride but you made it far. But now you had your studies to focus on. While you weren't in the official line up (due to how young you were), you practiced hard with the benched players and streamed in your free time with your fellow teammates.

You arrived at Karasuno, it wasn't a new day for you. A pretty normal day, except you were transferring into a higher class so that was pretty new. You get to Class 1-4, entering hesitantly.

"Ah, you must be the new student! Introduce yourself!"

"Morning, I'm y/n l/n! Please call me y/n! Nice to meet you!" You bowed as you introduced yourself, you ended up having to sit next to a tall blonde named Tsukishima Kei. Soon it was free time/study hall.

Some students had come up to you as they seemed to recognize you from your streams. You never minded the attention and you just hoped it never got too bad. "Are you really s/n?"

"I prefer not to talk about it too much.." You laughed nervously.

"Wow! You're in like the top 50 in the Asia and American servers!" You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly. You were never one to brag about your achievements. It was all just a video game to you in the end but then again, you were gonna be in Overwatch League when you get out of high school.

"She can reach top 50 and yet her height says she can barely reach the middle shelf." You turned to look at the tall male.

"Well, that's not very nice, Tsukishima-kun." You tell him. "And if you're gonna insult me, make up something better. I've dealt with years of misogyny in the gaming world, fight me." You have an annoyed glint in your eye as he glares at you.

"Oh my bad, chibi-chan." You were walking right into his trap and you didn't even realize it. "At least I'm in the starting line up on my team." He snickered. He knew very well that you were part of the Philly Fusion and you knew he was in the volleyball team. He knew of a few ways to push your buttons.

"H-Hey! I'll be in the starting line up soon! Just you wait! I'll be at the top!" You huffed. "You'll see me with the big boys, you salty beanpole of a guy!"

"Beanpole? Is that really the best you could come up with?"

"I could come up with worse but I don't think you could handle the heat. What with your petty insults and all." You crossed your arms. "At least I'm at the top with the best."

“Tch, what insults could you come up with, chibi-chan?” He scoffed. Everyone can feel the tension rise between you both. Luckily, a fight didn’t happen due to the fact that the bell had rung. While you and Tsukishima were frustrated at the sound of the bell, Yamaguchi seemed very relieved.

It’s been several days since you got transferred to Class 1-4. You made a decent amount of friends in the class (though you weren’t sure if someone of them wanted to be genuinely friends with you or they just wanted to meet your teammates). You were really good friends with Yamaguchi, although you still didn’t like Tsukishima enough to want to be his friend. More often than not, you both spat insults at each other with no remorse. It seemed to be a mutual thing, neither of you wanted to be friends nor plan on it.

You went to see volleyball practice pretty often as to support Yamaguchi (though Tsukki joked a lot that you were obsessed at continuing the feud you and Tsukishima had). “Hey Yama-kun.” You weren’t as energetic as it was getting close to league season and that meant less time with hanging out with friends.

“Are you okay, y/n-chan?” he asked as he was rubbing the sweat off his face with his towel.

“It’s almost league season for me, which mean I won’t spend as much time here. I’ll be home earlier to practice with my team.” You often practiced in your free time when it was off-season but the coach always thought it was better for you to practice with the team even if you weren’t gonna be in the line up.

“You really have to practice even if you’re not in the lineup?” Tsukishima scoffed.

“At least I’m passionate about what I do! You barely put energy into yourself playing!” You snapped back at him.

“Whatever..” He muttered.

“Sorry about Tsukki..” Yamaguchi said. “So, you’re gonna be really busy now, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna be going back to the Fusion base since they might want me to train over there.” That struck a cord in the duo.

“You’re gonna be leaving?” Yamaguchi asked, shocked.

“Yeah. But it won’t be forever. But they know it would be better for me if I went back to school around the Fusion base so it would be easier for me.” You ruffled your hair in slight frustration. “So funny enough, this is my first and last year here.” You sighed. Tsukishima didn’t know what to say. Nor did he realize what feeling were stirring up inside of him. But they didn’t feel good.

“That sucks, but you’re gonna get close to your dream, right?” The green haired male asked. “I’m glad you’ll get the dream you wanted but we’ll miss you when you leave.” He smiled sadly.

“Saltyshima won’t miss me though but I appreciate that you will.” You smiled at Yamaguchi while said male scoffed at your statement. “Let’s just have fun for these last few day before I leave.”

“Eh? You’re leaving that soon?”

“In 3 days actually. On Saturday.”

D-1

You already felt yourself missing everything in this school. While Tsukishima is struggling to think about what were these dumb feelings doing to him. Why was he feeling this way? Why was it always towards you? Why were these feelings even existing?

“Okay, Tsukishima-kun. Yamaguchi and I made a promise. I have to try and get along with you before I leave to go back. So, let’s start over.” You stuck his hand out. He doesn’t shake your hand and scoffs.

“Like I wanna be friends with you, chibi-chan.”

“Okay, let’s go out to eat then. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“How about ‘I decline’?” He says back.

“It’ll just be for 30 mins after practice. You can handle that right, Tsukki?” You say almost mockingly.

“Fine.” He huffed. And so started the adventure of the salty male and the pro gamer. After practice both of you headed off to a small diner. “Wow, very fancy.” He says sarcastically.

“Hey, my mom won’t let me in on the money from Overwatch League, give me a break.” You ordered fries and a milkshake. He ordered the same thing as he didn’t seem to care for anything else on the menu. You held up a fry close to his mouth. “Look it’s you.” Before you could move your hand back to eat the fry, he moves closer and eats the fry, his lips just grazing your fingers. “Hey! You have your own sets of fries, Saltyshima!”

“Never said I couldn’t eat your fries though, chibi-chan.” He smirked smugly. How were you gonna get along with the male if he acted like this? You don’t know. You sip on your strawberry milkshake as you glare at him.

D-2

“You’re telling me, you haven’t dipped your fries in a milkshake before?! You’ve got to be kidding me.” You huffed. “Well, now you gotta try it, right now. Do it.” You crossed your arms as you waited for him to do it. You and Tsukishima had unknowingly made a routine between each other which was fries and a milkshake after practice or after school.

“No way.”

“Do it, you coward.” You dip your fry into your milkshake and eat it. “Don’t knock it until you try it.”

“If I do it, will you stop annoying me?”

“You and I both know, I’d still annoy you. Just do it.” He rolled his eyes at your statement before finally trying a fry dipped in the milkshake. “So?”

“It’s not that bad.”

“See! I’m such an intellectual!”

“How are you in my class again?”

D-3

“So...this is the last time we do this. Then I leave.” You were a little gloomy since you and Tsukishima seemed to finally get along, only to probably forget each other in the long run.

“You act like you’re leaving forever. You’ll come back when the season ends, right?”

“I..don’t know yet.” You sighed as you stirred your milkshake with your straw. “You’ll wait for me right? If I come back.”

“When you come back. Don’t say if.” You laughed a bit, but it was a bitter laugh.

“I never thought we’d somewhat get along and when we do, I have to leave for Overwatch League.” You muttered. “Why don’t you come and say goodbye to me when I get to the airport? My aunt is driving me, Yama-kun knows where I live, come with us.” You offered.

“Maybe.”

“Well, let’s not make this our last goodbye right?” You said softly.

Leaving Day

You took a deep breath. Yamaguchi is sitting beside you as he notices the sad look on your face. Tsukishima didn’t come with you to say goodbye. “I’m sure he’ll show up.” He said, trying to be optimistic.

“I don’t know, Yamaguchi...” You mumble. You finally arrive at the airport. “I’ll miss you. I’ll try to text and call as much as I can.” You give him a sad smile. You hug him as he hugs you back.

“I’ll see you soon.” He smiled. You grab your suitcase slowly starting to leave.

“Oh, chibi-chan, you think you can escape from me that easily?” You hear a familiar voice and look up, seeing Tsukishima. Yamaguchi seem to have to take that as a sign to give you and him some space.

“You came after all.” You smiled. He patted your head before pushing you back, chuckling.

“Who do you think I am, chibi-chan?”

“Well, say your goodbyes now. I got to go soon.”

“Right. We got off the wrong foot in the beginning. I will admit that. But within the last 3 days, I tolerate you.”

“Wow, you tolerate me. That’s better than before.”

“Let me finish. I will wait for you. I...don’t just tolerate you. I like you.” His face is dusted with pink, making you hold back a smile and a tease. He took a step closer and kissed your forehead, surprising you. “Take that as my goodbye. Don’t forget to text me when you land, idiot.”

“I won’t forget, beanpole.”

“Shortstack.”

“Lamppost.”

“Gremiln.”

“Salty fries.”

“Sweet milkshake.”

“When you get back, you better buy me fries and a milkshake.”

“I haven’t even left.”

“Well, hurry, so you can come back quickly.”

“I like you too, Saltyshima!”

#haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyuu+x+reader #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima kei #kei tsukishima #tsukishima x reader #kei tsukishima x reader #kei x reader #haikyuu kei #haikyuu kei x reader #haikyuu kei tsukishima x reader #haikyuu tsukishima x reader

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visionsofus · 4 years ago

Note

im loving your wanda + vision's mixtape series! my song request is "I Know Places" by Taylor Swift! the song works perfectly with those two during the times between civil war and infinity war :)

Anon I'm sure you expected something quite different with this song... but here is what I wrote :) I hope you still enjoy even though its angsty!

Track #13: I know places by Taylor Swift

| read on AO3 here | mixtape playlist | send me an ask with your song/prompt request |

Synopsis: Wanda and Vision try to spend a peaceful evening out for dinner in Paris when they are suddenly attacked. To keep each other safe they split up, forced to make the harrowing journey to the next safe house separately. Vision is faced with Wanda's mortality.

Warnings: Angst/ mild whump, blood, guns, reference to a gunshot wound, I mostly skip writing the gore because no

All Wanda had wanted was a peaceful evening. She should have known it wasn’t to be. You didn’t get peace when you were a fugitive.

But they were in Paris, it was their first time in the city of love, and it was impossible to resist the opportunity to spend an evening together at a Parisian restaurant, overlooking the River Seine. They’d put the necessary research in, knew how private the restaurant was and chose the night it was said to be quietest – a Tuesday evening. They were so caught up in being in love with each other and in the hope of having a normal evening, like a normal couple. One of the first lessons Nat had taught Wanda was how easy it was to hide in a crowd, a lesson she shouldn’t have forgotten so quickly. But after two years of hiding on and off with Vision in different cities Wanda had come to associate privacy with safety.

Of course, they was no way they could have predicted that their server would be attending university for international relations and was not only knowledgeable in the Accords, but had aspirations of reaching the United Nations. It was the wrong time and the wrong place, but it always had been for them. Time was never on their side.

The first sign that something was wrong came before they’d even sat down. The restaurant was quieter than they’d anticipated, with only two other couples occupying the interior of the restaurant.

Wanda tried to wait patiently for their nervous waiter to return and shivered slightly at the breeze coming off the river below. They’d chosen the balcony in the hopes that it would put them further out of view of anyone else in the restaurant, but she hadn’t anticipated the cold. In response to her shiver Vision slid closer along the bench, wrapping an arm around her waist and she gratefully pressed herself to his warm side.

“She’s taking too long with the menus,” Wanda murmured quietly reaching out to fiddle restlessly with the napkin in front of her.

“You worry too much,” Vision said pressing a kiss to her forehead. “We took proper precautions.” But he too sounded worried and Wanda was beginning to second guess their whole decision to spend an evening out.

To their relief the young woman returned a moment later with two menus clasped in her grip. They began the motions of ordering food and Wanda started to hope that everything was going well.

She was mid conversation with Vision about their plans for the duration of their trip when she heard a series of car doors slamming down on the side street below them. Vision too went quiet, listening carefully. He rose, walking to the edge of the balcony and peered over, his eyesight far superior to Wanda’s human eyes. At that exact moment their server returned, two drinks in her hands and Wanda couldn’t help it. She reached out into the woman’s head, just enough to see what had happened in the time since they’d arrived. What she saw made her jerk back, fear alight in her heart as she launched herself up from the table and the server scurried back inside.

“Vis,” Wanda said stepping towards him, “we need to run.”

He didn’t get the chance to reply as a series of bullets ricocheted off his chest. Of course, his Vibranium form was impervious to such amateur tactics but Wanda still felt her chest constrict in fear. Her powers rose to the surface immediately and she encased them protectively behind her magic, shielding them from whoever was shooting.

“Perhaps this was a bad idea,” Vision said scanning the area and Wanda could almost hear his thoughts as he ran through possible escape routes. “They’ll have circled the building by now, we’ll have to get out via the roof.”

“Up it is,” Wanda muttered and launched herself towards the roof with her powers, Vision close on her heels.

“How did they find us?” Vision asked as they ran along the roof shingling, or rather she ran, and he flew.

“The server recognised us immediately and reported to the local police,” Wanda called, stumbling a little on the next rooftop as she launched herself across the space between two buildings.

Vision was at her side, grabbing her hand and pulling her along. “We have to get out of the city.”

‘Pyramus Protocol?” Wanda asked, hating using the name of the plan that was their last possible resort.

“I’m afraid so,” Vision replied, and they stopped atop a flat rooftop, far enough away that they surely must have bought some time.

Wanda sighed, pulling herself to him and hugging him tightly. “It’ll be ok,” she murmured a promise to herself and to the night air around them.

“I’ll see you in two days,” Vision said drawing back just enough to kiss her tenderly.

“Don’t get caught,” Wanda murmured trying to keep her eyes closed a little longer as his thumb brushed along her cheek.

“Stay safe.” His voice was a whisper and when she opened her eyes he had disappeared.

Wanda cursed their frivolity even as she ran over rooftops, launching herself across spaces no regular human would have been able to in the direction of their rented apartment. Pyramus had been a requirement when they decided to keep seeing each other, despite their divided teammates, the havoc wreaked on a German airport and most significantly, the very legal international treaty that now divided them. Anytime they started feeling guilty about the danger they were putting each other in, the Pyramus Protocol was there to fall back on.

They’d designed the plan at the demand of Nat and Steve on one side and Tony on the other. Wanda knew it was the main reason their friends didn’t have more problems with these secret meetings. Vision hadn’t been able to resist naming their escape plan after Pyramus and Thisbe, the star-crossed lovers of Greek mythology whose tragedy had inspired Romeo and Juliet. Wanda didn’t mind, as long as they hadn’t cursed their relationship to end the same way.

Thanks to the Pyramus Protocol they had a safehouse in mind, deep in the mountains in the south of France. In every country they visited, there needed to be an alternate safe house if things went to shit, or it became too dangerous to leave the country. Such as right now. With Wanda’s cover blown the authorities would be keeping keen eyes on borders and airspaces, so the only option was to venture further into the country.

Part of the Pyramus protocol was to split up in the event that only one of their covers was blown and as Vision purposely hadn’t let his human form go public in the US, it was safer for them to be apart. Wanda could only hope that the authorities were only out for her. The secret of his appearance was all that was protecting him from becoming a fugitive like her if she got caught and it was this assurance that silenced Wanda’s guilt enough to keep seeing him.

Wanda was so lost in her head that she almost flew straight past their apartment, managing to slow down just in time to drop onto the small balcony facing the street. She laid a hand to the glass, using her magic to turn the handle from the inside and stepping quietly into the apartment. Vision didn’t often bring anything with him, but Wanda kept all her belongings on hand and couldn’t afford to leave everything behind, lest they find some evidence that could be traced back to her teammates.

The bag was always semi-packed, always sitting at the foot of the bed and within magic’s reach if she had to run, or worse, destroy the evidence.They’d gotten lucky so far. Until tonight.

Wanda knew something was wrong as soon as she stepped into the apartment. A floorboard creaked to her right and she threw her hands over her head as something whistled past her ear, narrowly missing her neck. A tranquiliser.

Wanda jumped into action, grabbing the duffle bag with her magic and launching herself back to the doors, smashing through the glass and up onto the rooftop once more. She heard the shouts of her pursuers and waited until the four men made it out onto the balcony, swearing in French and looking around. When one finally looked up, Wanda reached out to their minds, hating it even as she did. She managed to subdue three of them but the fourth persisted and Wanda fought between keeping the three under and trying to wrangle the last man into submission. All it took was the distraction of sirens nearby and her control waned enough for the fourth man to draw his gun and take several, carefully aimed shots at her. Wanda swore and launched herself back, throwing her power up as she did. But she was not quick enough, and one of the bullets found her shoulder, sending pain ricocheting through her left arm. She fell to her knees on the rooftop huffing in pain, tears burning at her eyes. She’d been faced with guns often during her time with the Avengers but never had a bullet actually hit her. She vaguely recalled that you weren’t supposed to leave it in, but worried about not having anything to staunch the blood flow if she tried to pull it out. If she passed out from blood loss now, she’d never escape.

Instead, she pulled off her winter coat, removing its woollen belt and using that as a temporary bandage, her blood warm against her fingers as she tried to breathe through the pain. To hide the bloody stains on her top she took a jumper from her duffle bag and tugged it over her head with great difficulty. She heard grunting and a hand reached over the side of the rooftop, sending her scuttling to the shadows as she tried to gather her wits once more. Shouting could be heard below, and Wanda knew this was her last chance to lose her pursuers.

The station was only 20 minutes away by foot, but Wanda made slow progress, sticking to rooftops as often as she could, always on alert for how near the sirens were. She launched herself from rooftop to rooftop with one hand, her other arm too painful to move.

Once she was sure she hadn’t been followed she purchased two north bound tickets using a traceable credit card under her name, and for her real ticket used cash, messing with the ticket officer’s mind to ensure he only recalled her buying the first two. She’d paid extra for a private cabin with a bed for the overnight train ride that was due to have her arriving late afternoon at the Pyrenees mountains.

At the platform Wanda reached into the conductor’s mind as he waited at the door, erasing any memory he had of her boarding the train even as he checked her ticket. She made it to her cabin without further event, shutting the door firmly behind her and pulling the blinds down. She lowered herself carefully to the cramped bed set against one wall, breathing properly for the first time in an hour. She groaned quietly as the pain in her shoulder hit her fully and her adrenaline abruptly ran dry. It took all her strength to stretch out on the uncomfortable bed as the train started to rock, leaving the city. With the knowledge that she had gotten away she closed her eyes and let sleep overtake her.

Vision was waiting in a café, a French newspaper propped up in front of him and a steaming coffee in his hand, though he hadn’t drunk any. He was doing his best to act normal even as he listened to a couple near him chattering in French about the international fugitive spotted in Paris the night before. It was all over the various news channels, but so far, no mention of him had appeared. Better yet, the authorities seemed to have no leads on where Wanda had disappeared to.

Vision gasped as his forehead sparked with pain, exactly from where the mind stone usually was when he was in his normal form. He put his hand to his head and rubbed nervously. It was throbbing sharply, and he gritted his teeth as he tried not to draw any attention to himself. Then it was as though the stone was trying to speak to him, images flooded his mind – Wanda lying unconscious on what seemed to be a train, someone opening the door, the cry of sirens as police cars pulled into the train station. It all happened so quickly that Vision thought he might have been imaging things. The stone throbbed persistently, and he knew he could not ignore the warning. He needed to get to the train station immediately.

Now that he was further south, it had grown colder and though Vision didn’t feel the discomfort of the temperature drop, he was glad to be wearing the thick woollen coat, flipping the collar up and pressing his chin down. He disappeared into the street, just another person avoiding the harsh wind blowing down the main street.

The station was relatively busy as the train pulled in just on time and Vision found himself darting around people, making his way towards the front of the train where the priority seating was. The row of empty compartments appeared just as they had in his head, and there was the final compartment, its blinds still pulled tightly down.

He glanced surreptitiously over his shoulder and tried the door handle. Once inside he could have sworn his artificial heart stopped for a few moments. He dropped to his knees next to the bed and the woman lying in it. He was eye level with Wanda’s pallid, unconscious face and her eyes flickered weakly beneath eyelids.

“Wanda,” he said voice raw with pain. He reached out to her shoulders hoping he could wake her up. That was when he felt the blood, his hand coming away a dark red as he looked at her shoulder in horror. “You’re alright, you’re alright,” he whispered to himself more than anything as he picked her up carefully, hating how limp she was in his arms.

Throwing caution to the wind he phased right through the side of the train, moving so quickly he only hoped that no one on the platform happened to see him heading straight for the outskirts of town where the safe house was waiting for him. He didn’t care if he was spotted now, it wouldn’t matter if he couldn’t help her.

The house was as basic as possible, an empty cabin in a small mountainous town. The last place Vision hoped the authorities would come looking. But it was hard to be concerned about that with the alarming situation presented before him. Wanda was hurt and there was no way he could risk taking her to a doctor or trying to get her to Steve or Natasha. But Vision had always assured her that he would be there no matter what, now was the time to see that promise through.

While the cabin might have been lacking in interior design and scarce of furniture, it was equipped with an extensive first aid kit beneath the kitchen sink which Vision quickly located. He had laid Wanda out on the couch and was startled to see her slowly coming to as he returned.

She tried to sit up, gasping as she looked around frantically at the unfamiliar surroundings. “Vis?” She cried her voice full of desperation.

He appeared at her side instantaneously and she pressed a bloodstained hand to his cheek her lip quivering as she looked him up and down, as though assuring herself that he were real. Despite his concern for her jostling her injury he leant into her as she rested her head on his chest, sitting so that she could hug him with her good arm, and he could hold her.

“It’s okay,” he said kissing her cheek even as tears began to roll down, “you’re going to be okay.”

“I was so scared they’d get you,” Wanda said through her crying and Vision’s heart clenched and he held her tighter.

“It’s okay,” he whispered over and over, giving her the time she needed to calm down.

Her breaths were still coming out in hiccups even after ten minutes of holding her, but Vision couldn’t afford to wait any longer. Now came the difficult part. He pulled back gently, cupping her cheek and she relented to lying back down, wincing as her weight was put into her back and her shoulder.

He prepared the first aid kit, the tweezers to remove the bullet that was still lodged in her shoulder and the needle to stitch the wound back up. Her power must have stopped some of the impact because the bullet thankfully hadn’t gone in too deep. He’d already profiled the area and made sure it wasn’t pressing on any arteries. It would be a painful, if quick procedure.

“Wait,” Wanda said hoarsely when he looked at her for confirmation to begin. “Can I hide in your head?”

“Of course, darling,” Vision said presenting his forehead to her and relishing the feeling of her warm palm on his cheek, and more distantly, the warmer feeling of a consciousness alongside his.

He looked at Wanda for the go ahead and she nodded slowly, closing her glowing eyes as she retreated out of her own mind and into his.

The mental distance helped Wanda as Vision started cleaning her wound up. The pain was a distant foe and though she winced as he withdrew the bullet it was infinitely better wrapped up in the comfort of his mind. He let her filter through the memories of the previous evening, and she was glad to see his escape had been relatively uneventful, he’d travelled west first and then south to the mountain range. Wanda hadn’t gotten a very good look at the space so far, hadn’t taken in anything beyond the simple fact that he was by her side and that she felt safe for the first time in 24 hours. But she looked now, reliving through his eyes as he made his round of the house. It was simple but cosy and reminded Wanda of the time a year ago when they had stayed in the Swiss mountains for a week. They’d spent their time going on long, secluded walks on mountain trails or sitting wrapped up together in front of the fire. It was a week spent taking each other in, catching up on the separate lives they’d been living in the month spent apart, and relishing in the closeness they could have when it was just the two of them. This cabin certainly wasn’t as lush, but Wanda was grateful to feel the warmth behind those memories even as her body cried out with pain in the physical world.

Wanda drew back to herself as the pain began to lessen, the stinging on the surface of her skin sufficiently numbed and the bloodstained belt and bullet discarded.

The rest of the evening was quiet, though neither were able to settled down after such a close call. Vision moved Wanda to the bedroom where she might be more comfortable, and she tried her best to relax as the pain medication slowly kicked in. He helped her eat something, though her appetite was non-existent. Then he waited for her to sleep, her head resting on his arm as they lay together. He ran his hands through her hair, gently teasing tangles apart and doing his best to clean the dried blood away from her neck.

He left bed once to double check the locks, ensuring that the motion sensor alarms were set for the outside of the remote property, ready to warn them if they were found. But Vision had been monitoring the news all afternoon and the press seemed to believe the trail of the international fugitive had gone cold, much to his relief. He distantly noted that Tony had tried to contact him twice in the last few hours and he silenced the notification, it was a problem for tomorrow.

He heard creaking coming from the bedroom and dashed back in alarm. But it was just Wanda doing her best to stand up against the wooziness from the pain medication and exhaustion.

She reached for him wordlessly, her eyes threatening to spill the tears gathered there and Vision was at her side instantly, cupping her head to his shoulder and slipping a hand under her knees so that he might return her to bed.

“It’s alright,” he whispered as she twisted her fists into his sweater shakily.

“Don’t let me go tonight please,” Wanda whispered as he tried to make her comfortable even as she gritted her teeth past pain, getting as close to him as she possibly could. “You’re the only thing holding me together right now.”

Vision wiped her tears away and kissed her softly. “I’m not going anywhere; I’ll always be here.”

“What if they find us?”

“They won’t,” Vision whispered though he couldn’t possibly say for certain, “and if they do, I won’t let them take you.”

“I’ll never let them take you,” Wanda whispered looking into his eyes as she promised. “Anything but you.”

“It will never come to that,” Vision said with such conviction that tears began spilling down her cheeks again.

They remained intertwined the entire night, Wanda curled into his side, her back to the outside world, her head resting on his shoulder. Some part of Vision managed to rest, taking solace in the fact they were together and for now, safe. But there was a part of him agonising over what had happened, the part of him that remained conscious over-analysing every creak and crack of the old cabin as winds swirled through the forest outside. The same part of him that desperately dreamt of an alternative, a life where they didn’t have to run and hide anymore. He clung to that hope as they clung to each other throughout the night. Though Wanda had told him he was the only thing holding her together, Vision knew he’d be in pieces if they were ever separated by something more final.

#wandavision #scarletvision #Wandavision fanfiction #wanda x vision #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #hurt wanda #worried Vision #pre-IW scarletvision #just let them be happy #I cry #but then remember I'm the one that wrote this angst

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liliesoftherain · 5 years ago

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Kiri with a soccer player s/o who gets cleated(stepped on) and breaks her ankle but doesn't tell anyone till the games over?

A/N: Omg this was so cute-I know nothing about soccer lmao! So I looked some stuff up and did what I could, I probably added more info than necessary. Anyways I’m sorry this took so long! I hope you enjoy!

Title: Get Fuc-Cleated.

Pairing: Eijirou Kirishima x Reader

Eijirou Kirishima!:

Sweat was sliding down your face, collecting at your chin before falling down in fat drops. Tonight’s game was the most important game in your opinion by far, tonight scouts were out in the crowd and looking for the athletes they thought would make it to the big leagues.

You were in your position, standing center midfield as the game started up again. The score being 6-6, and you intended to get your team in the lead.

You watched the ball get passed around to the second mid, so you lingered behind slightly, still close enough to help if needed but not far away enough that you’d had less space to cover if you had to sprint back across the field in case the ball was stolen.

She had passed the ball back and forth, keeping the ball in constant motion and control between her and the forward before striker had managed a goal. Shiketsu’s goalie had thrown the ball back into play, and you kept moving after it.

You loved playing the game, the constant motions kept you on your toes and alert, allowing you no rest. It was a game that kept your heart pumping and interest peaked. Also, being a center mid had definite advantages. Sure, while you were constantly on the move, you had the most versatile spot. You were able to act as offense and defensive, able to make passes as well as score.

Speaking of passes, you quickly ran towards the opposing box help your teammate out. They were going for the goal but you could tell they were acting to harshly, the angle of her kick along with two Shiketsu players would cause for a miss, and then lead to a loss of the ball. She kicked anyways, but thankfully one of the girls had only blocked, causing the ball to fly back over towards you, and you had caught it, leaning back to let it bounce off of your chest till it was in between your feet on the ground.

You quickly took possession of the ball, dribble it between both feet as you maneuvered as close as you could get to the box, carefully, yet powerfully kicking the ball till it sailed straight into the goal. The crowd cheered, but all you could focus on was breathing, and where the ball would end up next

Eijirou cheered from the stands, shaking Bakugou’s shoulder with one hand while he pointed at you with the other, as he watched his girlfriend score for the second time that game. He always felt so much pride whenever he watched your games, you were just so amazing at what you did. In his opinion, you had one of the coolest, if not the hardest, positions of all.

Before dating you, he never really cared to know about soccer or the finer details of it. He was a fullback on the football team here at U.A. and if it wasn’t football, he wasn’t interested. However, one day his team had arrived at the the multi-purpose practice field earlier than normal and the girl’s soccer team was still using it. So, with nothing else to do, Kirishima had decided to pay attention to see what they were up to.

That’s when he saw you.

You had scored three goals back to back and even had-what he knew know-had participated in an assist, and he was impressed by how well you dodged the other girls, weaving between like they were in slow motion compared to you. He was memorized, but what did him in was the giant smile you held as you began to congratulate your teammates on a job well done. High-fiving while greedily taking water into your mouth. He was close enough to see the sweat pouring down your body, and the way you were panting at the exhaustion that he knew all too well after a good practice.

You had turned and made eye contact with him, and he swore his heart stopped, a blush rising to his cheeks as he couldn’t look away. You raised a brow at him before turning away yourself, and he felt embarrassed for being caught staring. How could he not though, not only were you beautiful, amazing at your sport, but you looked so good in your practice shorts..

The girls packed up and were making their way off the field, having to walk by all the players waiting on the sidelines. He watched as you slung your duffel bag over your shoulder and began to walk off, passing by him as you did.

You gave him the most gorgeous smile he’d ever seen, winking brushing your shoulder along his bicep. He felt a jolt go through him at the touch, and he swallowed as he watched you sashay away. The only thing bringing his thoughts back to the field was how two of his buddies roughly shoved him, teasing him at the obvious flirting she had done.

Let’s say, he came early to every practice after that, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. Day after day for the next two weeks, you had flirted with each other through looks alone, until you had gotten fed up with it and confronted him with questions on why he hasn’t asked you out yet. He immediately flushed, asking you out in one breath. Your smile made him feel lightheaded, as you agreed.

Ever since then you two had been inseparable.

Attending the others games, working out together, having frequent study dates, and you both were even planning colleges together.

“I get it already! She scored, quick shaking me dammit!” Katsuki cursed under his breath, pushing the redhead away.

Eijirou would have apologized, but he was too hyped to care. The end of the game was nearing, only about 10 minutes to go, and you guys were able to bring the score up, it now being 8-6, well until Shiketsu brought it one point closer after a score.

You were panting, cursing in your mind as Shiketsu stole the ball and quickly made a goal. You rushed forward, trying to quickly gain access to the ball but were cut off by a body slamming into you from behind. You grunted in surprise, sticking out your arms to help with keeping the damage to a minimum, but you felt a searing pain run up your leg as someone tripped over you as you fell. You held back a yell of pain, choosing to grind your teeth together as the Shiketsu player who had originally ran into you apologized profusely, helping her teammate before helping you up.

As soon as you put pressure on the injured foot, a sharp pain once again shot out and up your leg. You groaned, but saw that Shiketsu had once again scored when you were down. You were now tied, and there wasn’t time to lose a player. You jogged forward, pushing through the pain as the ball was thrown back into play. The adrenaline in your body helped, numbing your ankle just enough to were it felt as if it were tightly wrapped, allowing you to pick up the pace and accept a pass as it headed towards you.

The clock was ticking down, and you didn’t want to go into overtime. You needed to end it quickly. You moved through the hurt, irregular breathes passing you lips as your vision blurred. You passed the ball to a teammate who was opened, hoping to lose the opposing players who were closing in on you. As soon as you got them off of your tail, you were passed the ball once more, now close enough to shoot.

There were 10 seconds left, you couldn’t afford to mess up.

You blinked to clear your eyesight, faking a kick to the left and as the goalie jumped, you quickly changed feet, putting your body weight on your damaged right leg and kicked with your left.

It soared through the air and landed in the net just as the buzzing sounded.

That was it-that was game.

The screams from the crowd were deafening, and you fell back on your ass. You looked down at your ankle to see a nasty bruise already there, the swelling not looking any better.

With Shiketsu walking off the field and your team running around the field in celebration, you let out a loud groan of pain, knowing no one would be listening. You fell back, sprawled out on the grass as you tried to calm down, the pain now coming in waves as your heart rate began to slow.

Fans, family, friends, and people alike were allowed to come onto the field to congratulate the players as they made their way to the locker rooms.

Sitting up, you felt a shadow looming over you and looked to see the worried face of your boyfriend.

“Eijirou-”

“(y/n) what happened!?” He crouched down and looked at your ankle.

He knew something was wrong from the moment you stood after your tumble, he felt angry as he saw you trampled by two Shiketsu kids, but when one lifted you up he let his anger fade. Knowing then it must’ve been an accident instead of intentional. But when he saw how you immediately didn’t start running back into the fray, he knew you were hurt. You had to be, there was never a moment you let yourself watch your team. You preferred to be smack dab in the middle of the action, helping any way you could.

Then when he saw how slow you started running, then only to fall after your winning kick, he got up and made his way down to the fence. Itching to get on the field to check on you. Fear and worry creeping into his mind, hoping you were alright.

“Cleated-no worries, I just need help up.” You held out a hand, and he smacked it away.

“Hey-oh!” You let out a noise of surprise as Kirishima lifted you into his arms, holding your princess style.

“You’re not going to be walking on that! You shouldn’t have even been playing on it! You could seriously injure it more than it already is babe!” He scolded, taking you over to the bench on the side where the coach was so she could call the paramedic that was on standby for the game.

“Well,” you shrugged, sheepishly laughing at the scolding, “I couldn’t let Shit-ketsu win now could I?”

“Your health is what’s important to me.” He sat next to you after setting you down, lifting your foot carefully onto his lap to have it elevated.

He had such a soft look in his eyes, you could have melted right then and there. You took one of his large hands in yours, giving it a light squeeze.

“Yeah I know, I’m sorry love.”

“You better be.”

You laughed at him, before letting out a whine.

“I’m going to have to use crutches aren’t I?”

“Never fear princess! Your knight is here to carry you wherever you need to go!” He grinned with a wink, flexing to show you that he could do it, causing you to giggle again at his silly antics.

“I have the best boyfriend in the world.” You pulled him down for a quick kiss, and didn’t miss the way his smile turned goofy as he looked at you with stars in his eyes.

“I have the best girlfriend in the world.”

“Awh-”

“Even though she’s a little dumb, thinking she could play on a sprained ankle and all.”

“HEY!”

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