#she’s an extremely strong player. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rinhaler · 1 year ago

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𝖗𝖆𝖛𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖉 𝖇𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜

would you fuck your high school bully if you got set up on a blind date with him? if he was hot, probably, right?? ... right?

✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors. ✧. ┊ ex bully!rensuke kunigami x f!reader

Genre: porn with a plot Notes: a concept that has rotted my brain for weeks now. ty to @chososdoll for beta reading as per ♡ Warnings: 18+, alcohol consumption, pro player!kunigami, pleasure dom!kunigami, consent check, overstimulation ♡, multiple orgasms (duh!), pussy eating ♡, fingering, slight nipple play, dumbification, size difference, vaginal sex, dacryphilia ♡, enemies to lovers?, pool sex ♡, skinny dipping, morning sex ♡, wake up blowjob, shush kink?, praise, reader has pubes! (landing strip), calls your pussy 'she', bullying mention, pet names (baby, princess). Words: 15.1k

“This seems a little…”

“What?”

“Sad.” you laugh, repositioning yourself on the couch beside your best friend as you watch your fourth horror film of the evening. She tuts, but not before gesturing that she needed a refill on her wine. So, you reach over to the side table and start taking off the lid for her. “I don’t know. It feels a bit desperate, no?”

“No!” Maisie objects.

She can’t remember the last time she heard you gush about a guy. And honestly, neither can you. It’s been forever since you went on a date. And it’s been even longer since you got laid. You shake the thought away as you pour the red liquid into her empty glass.

You’re happy alone, for now, you think. It’s not like you feel lonely. Admittedly, it isn’t the best feeling when you have to listen to all of your friends talk about their date nights or cosy nights in with their partners. It isn’t the end of the world, though. Maybe happy is a strong word to describe how you feel.

You’re content being alone.

“I’m not saying you have to marry the guy,” she continues, lifting the wine to her lips when you finish filling her glass. “Just meet him. He’s so sweet, and he’s gorgeous!”

“You fuck him then!” you laugh. She takes the opportunity to flaunt her engagement ring that she hasn’t even had for a week yet. You roll your eyes, but laugh, grabbing her hand so you can examine it again. It is beautiful. Are you a bad friend? Because the stab of jealousy you suddenly feel is almost painful. “I’ve never been on a blind date. I didn’t even realise they were still a thing, why won’t you just show me him?”

“I promise he’s extremely sexy. Trust me, if I wasn’t engaged I’d definitely take him for a ride.” she giggles, and you laugh back at that. She has similar taste to you, so you’re sure you’ll feel the same way when you see him. It’s intimidating though. You’re putting complete faith in her that she won’t fuck you over. And then, you realise, you’re thinking about it as if you’ve already accepted. Maybe it’s a sign. You should just take the plunge. “I don’t want to tell you too much and spoil the fun, but—”

“I’ll do it.”

“Y- really?!” she wiggles a little closer to you in excitement, her wine sloshing in her glass as she approaches. “I’m gonna text him now! Eeeeeeek!” she squeals, putting her wine down and picking up her phone. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her fingers move so fast as she texts the mystery man.

You want to pry for more information, but you know her too well. She’s stubborn. And the blind date aspect for her is too exciting. There’s no use trying to get her to spill. Though it doesn’t stop you from attempting to extract even a slither of information.

“How do you know him?”

“He’s a client.” she pays you no mind, perfectly manicured fingers tap away at her phone as she formulates a text message.

You’re surprised, for multiple reasons. You hadn’t expected her to answer that truthfully, let alone with no hesitation. It came so easy for her to say; which means one of two things. Either, it’s true, or, she had a well-crafted lie prepared in case you asked that very question. But if it’s true… that’s interesting.

She’s a social media manager. And while her clients aren’t necessarily A-Listers, they aren’t exactly nobody’s, either.

“Oh my God, is he a footballer?” you smile, widely. She peers up from her phone and you find it hard to read her expression. She’s always had a good poker face, but you’ve known her long enough to recognise her tells. And when she licks her lips, you have your answer. “AH! Is he rich? Oh I bet he’s gorgeous, fuck, is he shredded? Like—”

“The horny jumped out!” she laughs, and you playfully hit her arm before laughing along with her. She doesn’t say anything else about it. Now, she is fully committed to the blind element of the date. “I’ll drop you off, I’ll tell him what you’re wearing so he knows it’s you. He said he’s free Thursday night, does that work?”

“Sure.”

“Great! So 9PM on Thursday.”

“Um…” you hesitate. Fucking 9PM? You know you aren’t that old, you’re in your mid-twenties for crying out loud, but that seems very late. You’re usually tired by 10 o’clock. But you refuse to risk her chastising you for being boring. So, you suck it up with a beaming smile, “Perfect.” it almost hurts to say.

She claps, enthusiastically, before picking up her abandoned wine glass again. You’re both silent, fixated on the movie. But you spot Maisie out of the corner of your eye finish her drink in a hearty swig. You don’t comment, though, still trying your damnedest to focus on the movie. It’s too late, though, you’ve missed most of the plot since she started plotting and preparing your upcoming date. You don’t dare break the silence, though. She looks utterly engrossed.

However your own attempt at concentrating is thwarted when you hear her glass land a little too harshly onto her coaster. It doesn’t smash, thankfully, but you’re both staring at each other after that.

“I haven’t got a fucking clue what’s happening in this.” she admits, and you laugh, agreeing. “Let’s go plan your outfit for Thursday!” she suggests, throwing the blanket you’re sharing off her body before walking hastily to your bedroom.

This is so her.

She’s more excited for this date than you are.

“Deep breaths, you look gorgeous!” she assures you, holding your hand as you squeeze it again and again to calm your nerves. “For what it’s worth, by the way, he’s my sweetest client. He’s really respectful and kind, a lot of them can be rude but he’s never been like that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! He’s really understanding.” she nods, eagerly. “Do you want me to come in and wait with you?”

“No, um… c-can you wait and let me know when he’s coming in? Or, just be here in case I get stood up.”

“Don’t even think that, he’s excited! He’ll be here. I’ll drop him so fast if he does, but I know he won’t.” she assures you.

You take another deep breath before smiling at her. She reaches over to give you a hug. It’s a tight, reassuring squeeze that makes you feel better for a fleeting moment. She waves like a child when you step out of the car, and she wolf whistles before you close the door.

If nothing else, at least you look good. You both agreed that there’s nothing like a little black dress, and your high heels accentuate your legs. They clack as you stomp across the pavement. And when you realise your steps are in time with your heartbeat you think it wise to slow down.

As the entrance to the restaurant comes into view, you look down the street and give your friend one final wave. Though, really, it’s meaningless. You know as soon as you sit down you’ll pull your phone out and start texting her in a panic. The maître d’ welcomes you with a beaming smile, checking the reservation list for the booking strategically made under Maisie’s name.

Still so committed to the blindness of the date.

It’s sort of exciting to think he doesn’t know anything about you, either. Though it’s scaring you slightly that he could take one look at you and turn around. And you won’t know until it’s too late. You won’t know until you’re being pestered to order after telling the wait staff that your date hasn’t arrived yet several times.

They’ll have to be polite despite how humiliating it is to tell you that other patrons need to be seated and seen to and you’re wasting their time. You’ll have to swallow your pride and leave. You can’t possibly eat alone after shouldering such a burning humiliation.

Oh God.

You text Maisie. And your fingers tremble as you type out the message. Telling her that you cannot go through with this and that you’re about to leave. A barrage of texts come through as she tries to give you a pep talk. But your anxiety flares and your leg begins to bounce as you try and shake the nervous energy from it.

Part of you thinks it’s best to stay sober, but your body is screaming differently. One drink won’t hurt, you decide, ordering two glasses of wine in case your date ever turns up.

And then you remember who he is. Or who he might be. He’s a client of your best friend, the social media manager. He must have some level of fame to need that representation. You’re pretty sold on the idea that he is likely a footballer. And through this thought process you manage to relax, if only a little. If he’s famous, he could be busy.

You decide to offer him some grace.

Though you should have given him the time to be really late before you got so worked up. You’ve only been seated for three minutes, after all. It’s not like he’s stood you up for an hour. You decide you’ll give him fifteen minutes before you leave. That’s a suitable amount of time to be able to leave and not look really foolish.

Every person that enters makes your heart race. Is it him? Only to realise it’s a couple or a double date or a family party in tow. You check the time on your phone, nine minutes have passed. Your cheeks fill with air as you puff it out slowly through pursed lips.

YOU: he’s not coming. MAISIE MOO 🐮: dw he just called me! he was stuck in traffic!!! YOU: rly? MAISIE MOO 🐮: yah! should be there any minute, have fun 😉

Your heart rate intensifies again as you see a man walk through the entrance and close an umbrella as he greets the maître d’. It prompts you to look outside, the windows are practically black save for a few lights on in the buildings across the road. But your eyes focus on the fat raindrops and their white outlines as they roll down the glass. How didn’t you notice the sudden torrential downpour?

Even from your seat at such a distance from the entrance you can see how large and well defined his hand is as he shakes raindrops from his orange hair. The colour makes you shiver, but you bat it away. It’s him, it has to be him. He’s alone, after all. And you see the maître d’ smile in your direction.

Hell, he might be happier that he showed up than you are.

You hear him laugh, and it’s deep, as he’s guided into the restaurant. And you can’t help but smile as you see him. He’s handsome, very handsome, and he has such a positive energy beaming from him. His face seems warm despite being chilled by the wetness of the rain. There’s pink in his cheeks and at the tip of his nose as he continues to smile kindly.

And, really, you’re speechless.

He smiles so sweetly, you almost didn’t recognise him, as he takes his seat opposite to you. And he thanks you for the wine. His eyes betray him as he looks at you with optimism. You know him, you’ve always known him. Those amber eyes that you’ve never seen in another man again since him. They seem so kind, now.

But you know better.

While he knows nothing.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” he grins, looking briefly over the menu. “I got stuck in traffic and then I had a hard time in the car park.” he laughs, his thumb indicating he’s referring to the multi-story car park down the road. The one notorious for its broken machines and confusing layout.

“Well, you’re here now.” you smile, weakly. Tipping the remaining contents of your glass until it flows between your lips. It goes down smooth and you almost feel it swim directly to your braincells, feeling slightly faint until your senses return to you again. You blink it away, and your eyes squint at him suspiciously. “Excuse me, I have to pee.” you tell him.

“Oh, sure.” he smiles. “Should I order for you if the waiter comes by? What would you like?”

“Are you paying or are we splitting the bill?” you wonder, taking his menu from his hand before he can even register that it’s gone. Your eyes scan the menu quickly, not looking for anything in particular.

“I’m old fashioned, so—”

“Great, then I want this.” you tell him, pointing to the most expensive meal on the menu as you place it back into his grip. He chuckles, gently, before looking up at you. Your smile filled with anger and malice as you turn on your heel to find the bathroom. “Oh, and an expensive meal should be paired with an expensive drink, right?” you tell him, leaving before he can respond.

He watches as you approach a waiter, asking where you can find the bathroom. They point you in the right direction. But before you go, you point towards the table your date is still seated at, telling them you’re ready to order. You ascend the staircase to the second floor and slip away into the bathroom and out of your dates line of sight.

Your heart pounds furiously.

Little hands shake as you search for your phone in your purse. Christ, you could use a cigarette right now. You feel light-headed as you take deeper and deeper breaths as you pull up your texts, your fingers tremble as you lean against the sinks.

YOU: do you hate me? be honest MAISIE MOO 🐮: ???? what’s wrong? Do u think he’s ugly? YOU: no he isn’t ugly. ANNOYINGLY. UGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! MAISIE MOO 🐮: … MAISIE MOO 🐮: what? YOU: do u remember me telling u about a school bully 😊 MAISIE MOO 🐮: stop it YOU: YOU SET ME UP ON A DATE WITH MY BULLY!! WHAT DO I DO?? MAISIE MOO 🐮: NOOOOOOOOOO MAISIE MOO 🐮: OMG OMG OMG IM SORRY MAISIE MOO 🐮: FUCK YOU: I told him to order me the most expensive stuff on the menu bc he’s paying.. so I might just eat and dip MAISIE MOO 🐮: stopppppp omg lmk when ur done I will pick u up im so sorry ily

You sigh, putting your phone back in your purse. Is that really the right thing to do? Maybe not right, it’s morally wrong, of course. But is it the best decision to make? Do you really want to sit and eat a meal you probably won’t enjoy with your former bully watching your every move?

“Fuck.” you whisper to yourself. You decide to pee while you’re here, and you wash your hands for longer than you intended. It’s distracting you from your worries as you stare at yourself in the mirror and feel the comfort of the warm water encasing your hands as you clean them. You shake them when your done, little drops of water landing back in the sink before you go to the hand dryer. Maybe you’re stalling. You’re definitely stalling as you realise you’re drying your hands for far too long.

With one final look into the mirror, you take a deep breath and decide to return to your date. He smiles as he sees you descend the stairs again. And instinctively, you smile back. It’s a habit you’ve developed, not necessarily a bad one. But in this instance, it feels like a betrayal to yourself. You tell yourself to remain straight faced as you sit down, pulling your chair closer to the table.

“I’m Rensuke, by the way. I realise I didn’t introduce myself.” he grins, beaming white teeth almost blinding you as he awkwardly holds his hand out for you to shake. “Sorry, been a while since I had a date.” he laughs as he puts his hand down.

“I know who you are.” you laugh in return, though it’s not because of what he said. You just can’t help but find yourself amused over the fact he doesn’t recognise you. He laughs, too, looking a little uncomfortable all the while. He scratches his head as he nods, coming to his own conclusion.

“Oh, right. You’re a football fan, then? Sorry, you didn’t strike me as the type.” he continues, assuming you’re familiar with him through his fame. You hold your eyes shut for a beat too long, an annoyed smirk creeping its way onto your face as you try to bite your tongue.

“Sure, let’s go with that.” you comment, taking a swig from your newly filled wine glass. He cocks his head in confusion, but drinks with you. “So, why are you here? In London, I mean. I assumed you’d be… not here.” you ask, unable to control your tongue. There’s venom in your words, but not enough to kill.

“Um, I—” he clears his throat, coughing into his balled-up fist. His honeyed eyes find yours again, an incredulous look appears on his face as he formulates his thoughts in his mind. “I feel like I’m being set up.” he chuckles, though you can sense the worry behind his voice.

You take another sip from your wine glass. A sip turns to a glug as you empty the red liquid from the crystalline glass. You refill it yourself; sensing things are about to go south very quickly.

“This wasn’t really a blind date, right? Maisie told you who I am and you wanted to meet me. Am I right?” he wonders. And at that, you do scoff. And now you’ve lost all interest in holding your tongue.

“Oh my God. You’re so full of yourself, you haven’t changed at all.” you tell him, crossing one leg over the other as you rummage through your purse in search of a cigarette that will never appear. “I had no idea I was being set up with you. If I knew that, I wouldn’t have agreed.” you tell him without remorse. Defeated, you throw your purse down to the ground by your feet.

There’s a sense of shame flaring within you that you couldn’t keep it together until the end of your date. Of all the people roaming planet earth right now, why did he have to be your blind date? You stare at him as you observe his confused expression, he’s utterly bewildered by your words.

“I’m… we’ve met before, huh? I’m sorry, I’m having trouble remembering. I— are you a fan? Or… were you?” he asks, trying to decipher your identity. You scoff, again, preparing to stand to your feet. He reaches across the table and grabs your wrist. You look down at his large, veiny hand and then into his eyes. Your own vibrating with a slight twinge of fear. You feel like that teenage girl all over again.

“Let. Go.” you warn him, voice quiet through your gritted teeth. He relinquishes his hold of you instantly, apologising profusely. He’s just confused about what he could have done for you to hold such disdain for him. But your warning replays in his mind like a record on repeat. It’s like his fractured memories are forming again, becoming whole as he hears your voice again and again.

Let go.

You sounded so much weaker back then. You’re more defiant, now.

“Are you Ryusei Shidou’s little cousin?” he asks, eyes widening and brows raising in excitement. You sigh, sitting properly in your chair with correct posture as your eyes look angrily at him.

“No, I told you—”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re not really cousins your families are just close. I remember.” he smiles. His eyes almost dazzle as he looks at you, all recollection of his past hits him like lightning as he repeats your name again and again like a mantra. “Is that really you?”

“It’s really me.” you repeat, sarcastically. “Cancel the food order, you can still pay for the wine.” you tell him as you pick up your purse and prepare to leave.

“What? Why? We should catch up!” he tells you, an expectant look on his face as he hopes to convince you.

“I don’t want to catch up with you?” you tell him.

“But… why not? It’s been so long since we saw each other.”

You signal the maître d’ when you finally catch his attention. Rensuke looks disappointed as you continue to ignore him. Instead, you alert the man that you’ll be leaving early and to cancel your orders. But you make sure to tell him that Rensuke will happily cover the bill. And he does, hastily pulling out a wad of cash from his wallet as you depart the restaurant. He hurries after you, he’s in slight disbelief when he realises how fast you are. You’re almost halfway down the road when he finally exits the restaurant.

“Slow down!” he calls out to you, running right up behind you until he’s walking at your pace. He opens his umbrella and holds it above your head as you carry on walking. “You’re gonna get sick if you keep this up.”

“Leave me alone.”

“At least take my umbrella.” he requests, “I’ll go to my car and leave right now if that’s what you really want. But at least take it while you wait for a ride home.”

You accept, not too proud to take something that might offer you a small comfort in the absolutely obscene downpour plaguing the city. How quickly you’ve transformed from a vixen to a drowned rat. He must be loving this.

“I really would like to catch up with you, y’know…” he smiles.

You look up at him as the rain soaks his gorgeous gingery locks dampening and sticking to his forehead. Maybe he has changed. It’s been years after all. He’s grown up, it’s plain to see from his chiselled jawline alone. And he was always big back then. One of the tallest guys in your class, and so big and beefy to boot from playing so much football and training in the gym.

He terrified you.

And now, he’s bigger. An inch or two taller and completely filled out into an even more muscular physique.

“I can take you home, too. You don’t need to talk to me if you don’t want to… but, it’s freezing. You’ll be waiting ages for a taxi or for Maisie to come get you.” he speaks softly. And unfortunately, he’s right. You know all too well how tough it is to get taxis around this time, but it would be worse if it was the weekend so at least you’re thankful for it being a Thursday. You want to decline. You’re so ready to decline.

But for some reason—

“Okay.” you nod. You walk ahead, though, leaving him behind as you walk to the parking complex you’re pretty confident that he used. He laughs, hurrying after you again and allowing you to lead the way. It seems you know the area way better than him.

He guides you to the elevator and to the top floor of the complex. You aren’t sure what you expected when you step out. It’s not like you’re familiar with cars. But you were expecting some kind of expensive sports model. A Ferrari or something. Instead, you’re greeted to a black Range Rover.

It’s definitely outside of your pay grade, but you can’t help but feel a little disappointed.

“I thought you’d have a nicer car, Rensuke.” you decide to goad him, thinking it’s the least he deserves at this point.

“This is my incognito car.” he smirks, looking over his shoulder at you as he unlocks it. Of course he has an incognito car. You huff a little as he helps you up and into it, closing the door behind you. He circles around the back and you see him looking around in the boot before he comes to the driver's side and sits behind the wheel. He gives you a towel, presumably used for his training days, and tells you to dry off. “My nicer cars are at home, sorry to disappoint.”

“Oh, wait…” you snicker as a thought comes to you. “Were you gonna try and pretend you’re a nobody if I didn’t recognise you?”

His face fills with a pink hue as he feels completely caught out. And you can’t help but burst into hysterics. It’s tough for him, meeting girls who will actually like him for him and not his bank account. When Maisie suggested a blind date, he thought it was as good a chance as any to try and form a natural connection.

“Anyway, I’ll take you home now.” he tells you, trying to change the subject. “Sorry the date didn’t go to plan.”

You huff, again, as you try to dry your skin with the towel. Eventually you give up and use it as a horribly soggy blanket. “I can’t believe you even wanted to go on a blind date. Girls used to throw themselves at you in school. I told Maisie a blind date seemed really desperate.”

“Did we go to the same school? I was a virgin ‘til we left.” he informs you. You look at him, surprised, and he nods to clarify. “I was focused on football and shit, didn’t have time for girls.”

“Well, you had time to bully one girl.” you remind him, regretting saying it instantly. You thought confronting him would feel better than this, cooler. Like you can finally get closure and make him feel almost a fraction as bad as he made you feel back then. But instead, really, it just feels… cringe.

He offers a weak smile at you. The tension could be cut with a knife as he pulls out of his parking space and drives down each floor. He wants to say something, and really, so do you. Maybe you should just let the hatred go. It was a really long time ago, after all.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t a good guy back then, but I like to think I’ve changed a lot.” he speaks, eyes focusing on the road as the street lights and car beams blind him in the rain. “Your cousin bullied me, y’know. Dunno if he ever told you, but I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair though, so I’m really sorry.”

“He is not—”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it, princess.” he smirks, “I wouldn’t want to claim a relation to that blonde freak either.”

The insult towards Ryusei makes you laugh. You’re still close with him to this day, and ‘blonde freak’ is the perfect descriptor. But you don’t like to think of him as being capable of bullying. You had a feeling that was why you were subject to Rensuke’s torment each day, but you didn’t want to discover the truth. He always made it a point to vilify you for being related to Ryusei. Though you adamantly denied it each time.

“So, you were a prick to me for being related to someone I wasn’t even related to?” you respond, seriously. It’s a hard pill to swallow. Though you’re unsure any answer to his bullying would have made you feel better. It hurts to know you suffered so much, ultimately, for nothing. “Wish I told him you were picking on me, he would have fucking killed you.”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt that.” he laughs a little. It’s soft, but not weak. It’s almost like acceptance. As though he deserves anything and everything you’ll throw at him. “We’re good now, though, if we’re in the same place we’ll meet up for drinks. He’s a fucking good player, too. Always admired him. He kept me in my place for a long, long time.”

You stare at him as he speaks. How have you never noticed how soft his features are? He’s so relaxed, peaceful. He looks at you briefly when he notices you staring, but just as quickly looks at the road again as his cheeks fill with heat, reddened with embarrassment.

“I was immature…” you start, looking down at your shivering, wet thighs as you decide to accept your own faults, too. “It’s been a long time since then. And we were young, it’s obvious that you’ve changed. I didn’t give you a chance and I was childish.”

“No, no—”

“I’m serious. Ordering the most expensive stuff and going off in a strop, that was really immature so... I’m sorry.” you tell him, and he smiles at that. He can’t help but think you’re a great girl. He looks over at you again, smiling so widely his eyes close.

“You never gave me your address, y’know.” he reminds you, laughing when the realisation hits you that you’d let him drive off with no real destination in mind. “Is it too late for that catch up?” he wonders, looking at you with hopeful eyes. The orange and brown colour tainted with sparkles of red as the stop light reflects from them.

And you’re powerless.

You find yourself agreeing before your brain can even keep up with the way you’re shaking your head. No, it isn’t too late. And his smile is almost as blinding as the headlights of each car in the road illuminating the falling raindrops and deep puddles forming in the street.

“I know where we can go…” he thinks to himself

Bowling.

You never thought you’d be coming somewhere like this. Truthfully, you feel like a kid again. You remember skimming some money from your daily lunch allowance given by your parents to save up enough to go to the arcade every weekend with your friends. Saving the extra coins to use the DDR machine.

Let’s just say you mastered Captain Jack on expert difficulty.

“Another strike? You’re too good, puttin’ me to shame.” Kunigami laughs before picking up a ball and preparing for his turn. “You better not tell anyone you thrashed me; my reputation will be in tatters.” he warns you, jokingly.

You watch him as he takes a swing and hits all but two pins, leaving an awkward split between them. You hear him mutter under his breath but can’t decipher whatever it is he was talking about.

For some reason, you feel like he’s going easy on you. It’s not like he was a stranger to the arcade either back in the day. You always scarpered whenever he showed up with his friends, deciding it was the perfect time to grab a bite to eat and hope by the time you were done they’d be gone.

“I wouldn’t have invited you here if I knew you were gonna show me up like this.” he smiles, sitting next to you after completing his turn. “I didn’t know you liked bowling, thought you just liked using the dance machines.”

“You remember?”

“Yeah, uh,” he chuckles and scratches the back of his neck as he recalls the memories from way back then. “Me ‘n Raichi, remember Raichi? Anyway, girls on the dance mats… well, we were teenagers, so—”

“Oh my God you’re so embarrassing.” you interrupt him to put a stop to his stuttering.

“Look, it was a sexual awakening that’s all I’m saying.” he laughs. “And you were the best one, never missed a step. I remember we used to watch you for ages before we came in to scare you away.”

“Disgusting. Pair of perverts!” you lightly smack his arm as you continue to tease him. “I was good, though. Wonder if I could still pull it off…” you look at the machines in the distance as you contemplate restoring your former glory, you feel a newfound sense of confidence as you think about Rensuke finding you attractive back then.

You decide to go for it.

He follows you as you approach the machine, standing on the second player arrows right next to you.

“Always wanted to try!” he shrugs as you look at him suspiciously. “You can teach me.”

“No, I can’t.” you laugh, slotting two-pound coins into the machine so you can both play. “It’s just memory and hoping your feet will respond in time. Good luck, though.”

“Yeah, sounds like you have real faith in me.” he rolls his eyes, throwing his coat over the red metal bar behind him and rolling up his sleeves. You quickly kick off your high heels as you scroll through the songs. You hover over Captain Jack, and his face lights up as memories of you back then flow through his mind. “You always did this one. There was a different one I remember liking, though…” he tells you.

He starts to scroll through the songs, listening to them carefully as he searches for the one he remembers. Your eyes widen in horror as he settles on one, and he looks at you with pride.

“This one!” he exclaims, loudly.

“No, no way. I could never get the hang of it and I’m even more out of practice now. Afronova is too hard it won’t even be fun!” you warn him, but he wiggles his eyebrows at you teasingly. “Let’s do it la—” he interrupts you by pressing the select button.

“It can’t be that hard.”

“You put it on the hardest difficult, idiot. We’re fucked!” you laugh, but get into position. You’re both definitely going to fuck it up, but at the very least you’ll get a good laugh out of seeing him eat his words.

All colour drains from his face as he sees all of the arrows immediately come into view on the screen. He barely knows where to look let alone where to plant his feet. He looks at your side of the screen, though, seeing you miss a fair few moves yourself but you manage to keep up the pace enough to earn some words of praise from the machine.

If you’d know you were going to be doing this, you definitely would have worn a bra. You hold your arms across your chest as you continue to jump and follow along with the arrows as best you can. Kunigami, however, decided to give up and watch you instead. He puts his feet down a few times on ones he think he might actually be able to get.

You’re left panting by the time the song comes to an end and your final foot stomp leaves you breathless. Rensuke claps, proudly.

“Fucking hell.” you gasp for air, leaning over the red bar behind you. You think you might actually throw up. “You dick, you barely did anything either.”

“I was captivated by the master at work, you were amazing!” he praises you, and you can’t help but giggle. “I think we should do an easy one next.”

“Agreed…” you respond, flipping through the songs until you land on 5678 by Steps.

You both laugh and joke as you easily follow along with the routine on baby mode. And it’s easy to keep up a conversation with him like this. Discussing more memories of spotting each other in the arcade and what you got up to on weekends.

It makes you sad, in a way. Knowing how sweet he is now and what he was capable of back then. You could have been friends, great friends. Maybe even best friends. Though you’re sure Raichi wouldn’t have liked that.

He allows you to pick your favourite song for the final round. And, naturally, he can’t keep up with you. But this time he actually does his best. But for you, it’s like muscle memory. You don’t miss a single step through the whole routine and you don’t even feel out of breath when it’s over. Kunigami however is sweating and panting again, his already wet hair sticking onto his forehead again as the sweat clings to it.

“It’s getting late.” you tell him, “Should we get some gross bowling alley food and call it a night?” you wonder, moving to pick up your discarded high heels so that you can decide what to do.

He rushes by you and hops off of the step, snatching your shoes up before you can. You watch him, nervously, as he gets down on one knee while holding your black pumps. You’re too speechless to object when he helps you slip your feet back into them, so delicately. And he smiles up at you from his lowly position as you gain another six inches of height. He holds his hand out to you, helping you down the step after you take it.

You exhale, deeply, after feeling how unbelievably soft his hands are.

“I think I’ll get a hot dog.” he thinks, not letting go of your hand and he leads you up the small flight of stairs and into the eating area.

“Oh, the burgers were good last time I came here.”

“Ohhhh fuck you’re right, I’m getting one too.” he laughs, ushering you into a secluded spot to sit down. “What do you want to drink? I’ll run up and order everything now.” he smiles.

You quickly look through the drinks menu and tell him you want a strawberry and lime Kopparberg. He nods approvingly at your choice. You watch him walk up to the bar to order, unable to take your eyes off him. He’s chatty with the bartender, and you wonder what else they’re talking about. You see him grab a pad of paper and a pen from behind the bar, handing them over to Rensuke. And he smiles, happily, signing it for him. You see the man thanking him over and over before Rensuke walks back over to you.

“You only just got recognised?” you tease him.

“It’s rarer than you’d think, y’know.” he laughs, “he said his kid is a fan. No big deal.” he shrugs, sliding your drink over to you.

He moves on from the subject of his fame and status in favour of complimenting you again. Telling you how talented you are and how fun it’s been hanging out with you again. You end up telling him about your job. It’s nothing fancy but pays the bills. You tell him about how you pretty much fell into the job of doing admin work for a law firm and now you’re training to be a solicitor.

His face lights up as you tell him. Like he’s proud. Or maybe it’s a twinge of relief that he didn’t fuck you up mentally enough to ruin your life. Either way, his smile is contagious. It only grows wider when your two plates of food are put down in front of you. And you hate that you’re trying to eat politely. There is absolutely no way to eat a dirty burger in a ladylike manner. He laughs at you when a dollop of ketchup drops on your chest and tries to slither down your cleavage. But, ever the gentleman, he cleans it up quickly with a napkin.

“Sorry,” he hesitates after realising how intimate it is. He hands it to you and you finish clearing your chest. “Good call on the burgers, though, they’re so good.”

You smile as you chew your food, still doing all you can to appear polite and demure. But he doesn’t mind, or care. Canines tear his burger apart with ease, and he can’t seem to stop himself from smiling each time he looks at you.

“So,” you start, putting down the final bite of your burger in favour of taking a swig of your drink. “You perving over me, did that affect the bullying?” you wonder, laughing lightly as he almost chokes on his food.

“I wasn’t perving, it was, I— ugh. I always thought you were cute. But I wasn’t about to tell you that.”

“You thought I was cute?”

“Oh, like you didn’t have a big fat crush on me? I heard the rumours.” Kunigami laughs, drinking his beer as he leans back into his seat.

“No, no, rumours and hearsay. I told one girl I thought you were hot on our first day and it turned into a game of broken telephone and spread like wildfire. I hated you!”

“Sure, sweetheart.” he winks before taking another drink. “Don’t worry, I can keep a secret.”

You shake your head, opting to finish your burger instead of disputing it further. He does the same, leaning back and sighing with relief before taking another drink. He slaps his stomach, as if he’s gained a beer bellying rather than possessing the rock-hard abs that you know reside there.

“This was fun. Really fun.” he tells you, crossing his arms over his chest as he continues to get comfortable in the booth seat. You nod, agreeing. “What are we calling… this?” he wonders.

“What do you mean?”

“Was it just a ‘catch up’ or could it still have been a date?” he asks, smiling when your eyes widen and your face flushes with heat so much that you feel the need to fan yourself. You tell him that you’re just hot from eating, but another cocky eye roll tells you that he’s not buying that. “I’m hoping you’ll say it was a date, if you were wondering.” he speaks, low and gravelly as he leans across the table to tell you.

“Well, it was technically a date. Just not the location we’d planned.”

“I enjoyed this a lot more.” he tells you, looking around at all of the arcade machines and the people bowling in the distance. “I go to snooty restaurants a lot, I don’t get a chance to relax like this as much. So, thank you.”

“R-Right, no problem.” you smile, unsure of what to say. “I guess we should get going, then.” you finish, gathering yourself and clutching onto your purse as you prepare to shuffle out of the booth. He looks a little deflated, then, but he follows your lead.

He puts his arm around you as he guides you to his car, helping you inside again. He even gives you his jacket to wear when he notices you shivering. Though you opt to wear it over yourself like a blanket.

You look out of the window as he climbs inside and shuts the door. The rain stopped while you were bowling, but it’s still so dark out. It’s damp and dreary, it’s just miserable, really. But the cold chill of staring out into the black abyss leaves you when Kunigami turns on the radio. Some generic pop music you’ve never heard in your life, and it makes you feel old and out of touch. But the face he pulls says the same story, and he begins flicking through other stations until he hears something he recognises.

“S-So… do you live nearby?” you ask him, curiously.

“I do! Just got a new place a few weeks ago, I’m still unpacking.” he smiles as he envisions all of the moving boxes still piled up in each room. “So where am I taking you?”

“If you go to Maisie’s office I can direct you from there.” you tell him, clicking your seatbelt into place as he pulls up directions on his phone to the office. You look out of the front window when you hear raindrops begin to pitter patter again. “Um… Rensuke…” you start, hesitating to speak as you wonder what the fuck you’re even thinking of doing right now.

“What’s up?” he asks, eyes darting to you before he starts the car. The only thing that can be heard is the light drops of rain. It makes your skin jitter, you feel a chill as you look at Kunigami, the rain rolling down the windows in your peripheral vision and you feel thankful to be here and not out there.

You feel desperate. And you’re sure you’re going to humiliate yourself, but you don’t want the night to end. In a million years, you never would have pictured yourself enjoying the company of Rensuke Kunigami. He’s a busy man, you’re sure. He fit you into his busy schedule and you’re sure he has better things to do than spend all of his free time on a date. A date that is supposed to be drawing to a close.

But you don’t say that.

In fact, you barely say anything.

He can’t help but smile, though, knowing exactly where your next destination will be.

“I don’t want tonight to end, either.” he confesses. You feel your body become lighter as you realise he feels the same way. He starts the car promptly, and you note how sure he is about where he’s taking you. “Can I show you my new place?” he asks.

He’s so cocksure as he says it. His eyes don’t meet yours and you sense it’s because he knows you’ll say yes. And who are you to disappoint? You’re curious, anyway. You wonder if it will be as impressive as you’re envisioning in your mind. Footballers are rich, aren’t they? But maybe he isn’t a high earning player. Either way, you’re curious to see the home that your former bully has worked so hard for.

You lose track of time as you pull up to his house. Or mansion, you should say. He’s allowed through the security gate currently being manned by a member of staff, and he drives up and towards a three door garage. You can’t believe you’re visiting somewhere like this, it feels like a dream.

It’s something Maisie is accustomed to, Rensuke even tells you how confidently she strutted around and didn’t even bat an eyelid when she came over to discuss his contract. But you’re left speechless as more comes into view.

He doesn’t bother parking in the garage, pulling up directly to the stairs leading up to the front door. He’s out first, doing a little jog around your side to open the door and help you out.

“I didn’t bring you here to brag, by the way.” he insists.

“And here I was thinking you were trying to woo me into bed.” you laugh, and laugh harder the redder his face becomes. He holds his hands up defensively, waving them dismissively as he tries to assure you that was not his intention.

“I’ll take you home right after if you want! I swear I wasn’t—”

“Relax! I was teasing you.” you tell him, bumping into him as you enter the mansion. He offers you a drink, which you accept, happily. He pours you a glass of wine but gets himself some water directly from the tap. “You aren’t drinking?” you question, feeling a little uncomfortable that you’re drinking alone.

“I won’t be able to take you home if I drink more than I already have.” he chuckles, handing your wine to you.

He drinks his water, and you take a sip of your wine. His smile, that beautiful smile, it’s so disarming. You’re tottering on your heels to walk by his side as he encourages you to follow him. You feel as though time is flying when he takes you from room to room. There are still moving boxes in each room but it doesn’t detract from the lavishness of it all.

You laugh when he tells you there’s a tennis court out back.

“What are you going to do with a tennis court?” you giggle.

“Play tennis, I suppose.” he laughs back.

You don’t mind even a little when you feel his cold hand come into contact with the even colder skin between your shoulder blades. You mind even less when his hand snakes down your spine and settles in the small of your back as he guides you to the next room.

“Oh wow…” you express, hit by the warmth of the room. Your heels clack against the tiles with each step you take. You leave his side as you get closer and closer to your target. And you scream, smacking Kunigami’s arm as he rushes behind you and presses his fingers into your sides. “An indoor pool… you’ve really fucking made it.” you tell him, and he shrugs.

“There’s one outside as well.” he informs you.

“Now that was a brag.” you laugh.

“Shit, was it?”

“Absolutely.

You crouch down to the balls of your feet, letting your fingers swim through the pristine pool water. You aren’t quite sure how to describe the colour of it, but it’s mesmerising, as if sage and turquoise paint mixed specifically to fill this pool.

He takes your hand and encourages you to stand upright again. And he doesn’t let go as he leads you out of the room. The thought of going back to your poky apartment after being in here is harrowing.

It almost feels like he’s doing charity work.

There’s a rumble outside that causes you both to stop in your tracks. And once you enter the living room again, you see the heavy rain pouring down violently on the windows again. It’s louder than before. The raindrops are weightier.

He squeezes your hand as you yelp after seeing a bolt of lightning pierce through the sky. You look up at him, eyes full of grace as those honeyed eyes warm your soul for the umpteenth time tonight.

“There’s a weather warning from The Met Office…” he tells you as he checks the time on his phone. He lets go of your hand to look at you again, unsure of what to say. “I can take you home… before it gets any worse…” he whispers. His voice betrays him, though. You can hear the voice of a liar interspersed with his desperation to be a good guy.

He doesn’t want you to leave.

You don’t want to leave, either.

“It’s… dangerous, though…” you start, looking out of the window again at the gloomy weather.

“In that case…” he bends down, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “You should stay.”

You mewl, softly, as he not-quite kisses against your ear and the smooth skin behind it. And your head tilts, for him, so that he can press one final kiss against your neck. You don’t want it to stop, but he withdraws himself with a cheeky smirk while your eyes are heavy with lust.

It’s been so long.

Too long.

You might have lived your whole life up to now without being kissed like that.

He curls his finger, instructing you to follow him back upstairs. You put down your wine glass and hurry after him. He doesn’t wait, this time, leading ahead as he brings you to one of the bedrooms.

“Wait here.” he commands, and you do.

You walk up to the standing mirror against the wall and check yourself out. Trying to make sure you makeup hasn’t smudged or there isn’t food in your teeth. Your hair is still soaked, but that can’t be helped. When he walks back into the room you quickly back away from the mirror as if you’d been caught doing something wrong.

“The bathroom is just opposite to here.” he reminds you, pointing.

You look down at the pile of items he brought in from another room. There’s an unopened three-pack of toothbrushes and a brand-new tube of toothpaste. You can’t help but smile when you pick up the rolled-up ball of white, fluffy bed socks.

And you hate to admit how your knees go weak when you realise he’s gifted you with his football jersey to sleep in for the night. There are shorts, too, but you doubt you’ll need them. You want to keep your dress on for as long as possible. You’ll just sleep in the jersey and your panties when you’re ready.

“Thank you.” you smile at him. You notice the tips of his ears and his nose turn a blush pink as he sees you holding up his jersey and modelling it against your body.

He doesn’t say anything as he leaves the room, giving you the space you need to do whatever it is you’re planning on doing. You take the opportunity to freshen up, you pick up the dental hygiene products he’d thoughtfully left for you and head to the bathroom. You catch his figure slipping into his own bedroom and closing the door behind himself.

Your mind runs rampant now that you’re truly alone. Look where you are. You’re brushing your teeth and preparing to spend the night in Rensuke Kunigami’s house. Sorry, mansion. How the fuck did this happen? Your heart begins to race. Are you actually going to fuck him?

You can’t.

You can already feel your inner child cussing you out for letting him kiss you like he did, no matter how brief it was. It helps, slightly, to tell yourself you have a reason to spend the night. The weather. It would be dangerous to drive in weather like this.

But, Christ, you can feel your cunt throb with want as you think about him railing you in every room of the house.

“Stop.” you whisper to yourself.

You finish brushing your teeth and spit into the sink. And that is when an idea hits you. You splash your face with water and find some cleansing wipes in the cupboard underneath. You start getting ready for bed. Because that is what you should be doing. Sleeping, alone, until you can go home.

When you’re done clearing your face you decide to slip into the clothes Kunigami gave you to wear. Even the ill-fitting, downright hideous shorts.

You emerge from the room, and see Kunigami appear again with a wide smile.

“Hey—”

“I think I’m gonna go to bed.” you blurt out, awkwardly, and Rensuke stops in his tracks.

“Oh… really?”

“Yeah I’m… tired.” you lie, already turning back into your room. “Goodnight.” you call out, not bothering to look at him as you’re already shutting the door behind yourself.

“Goodnight.” he replies, the disappointment in his voice doesn’t go amiss.

You can’t.

You just can’t.

You can’t fucking sleep.

It’s closing in on midnight when you check the time, and you have a multitude of texts from Maisie blowing up your phone. You can’t bear to respond, though. Not after all of the horror stories you told her about Rensuke. The thought of her knowing that you’re spending the night at his house is just embarrassing. Even though it is innocent enough. You didn’t even kiss, really. You’re just sleeping until morning.

But you can’t sleep.

Your mind is racing with ideas of what could have happened if you didn’t say goodnight. What else could you have gotten up to if you hadn’t had your responsible brain hardwired in. You’re thankful for it, you are. But just because it’s responsible doesn’t mean it’s always right. Right? It’s been so long since you’ve gotten fucked.

Are you depriving yourself over something so trivial?

You throw off your duvet and prepare to leave the room. You’re not looking for him. In fact, you’re hoping he’s asleep, like you should be. But if he catches you roaming the halls, you’ll just tell him you were going to use the bathroom.

The corridors are cold. The chill in the air caresses your no longer covered thighs, you discarded the shorts barely any time after you said goodnight.

You aren’t sure where you’re going, you only have the flash from your phone to light the way. You’re sure he wouldn’t mind you turning the lights on, but you don’t want him to catch you if he is awake. And you don’t want the light creeping into his room to disturb him if he did actually manage to get to sleep.

When you find yourself in the same room as the swimming pool, you have no idea how you even got here. It’s like you were summoned. It’s a mermaid’s lagoon and you were drawn in by a sirens song.

You can’t remember the last time you swam. It’s not like the weather is ever nice enough for it, and you hate public pools. But this… it might even help you feel tired enough to sleep.

You look behind you and approach a set of loungers.

As you’re about to pull Kunigami’s jersey over your head, you screech. The sound of breaching water echoes through the room and you turn around, sharply, to see the source.

“Are you okay?” he bellows, his voice reverberating through the room. “Were you looking for me?”

“Jesus Christ,” you yell, laughing soon after. “I- I couldn’t sleep. You almost gave me a heart attack, I didn’t even know you were in here!” you tell him, truthfully, and he laughs. He swims under the water from one end of the pool to the other. You stand at the edge when he comes up for air again. “I just couldn’t sleep.” you confess, though it sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself. Your voice is quiet and mousy so that your words won’t carry throughout the room.

“Me neither.” he tells you, looking up at you as he does. You notice his eyes stray, catching a glimpse of your panties under his jersey before he shamefully looks away. But he looks, again, as he admires you in his jersey. “Why can’t you sleep?” he asks, the sound of water pouring is boisterous as he raises his hand and pats the edge of the pool.

You look at it, his hand, and understand what he’s doing.

You can’t.

But you do. You crouch down, submerging your lower legs in the warm liquid while it ripples against the back of your thighs and ass. Your breath hitches when you feel his hand on your thighs and raking up the sides. He stands up, his forehead resting against yours as water cascades from his soaking body.

You can’t bring yourself to care when you feel it splash up against you.

The only thing on your mind is how close he is.

“Why can’t you sleep, baby?” he tells you in hushed tones. The weight of his words and the way he speaks them makes your body limp. But he’s there to keep you upright. He angles his head so that his eyes, those honey pot eyes, can focus on you. Your words die on your tongue as you try and formulate a lie.

One won’t come.

“Why did you say you were going to bed when you weren’t tired?” he whispers, again, and you feel your resolve begin to crumble. He’s like an archaeologist, meticulously brushing at an ancient relic that he has no business handling.

He should have left you be.

“I… I don’t know, Rensuke.” you lie. And it’s an awful lie. He’s grinning from ear to ear as he hears you struggle to think of anything better than that. He knows. You both know. That’s why you can’t object when he pulls you closer. His hands force your legs around his waist. How did you get here?

“You look good, princess,” he tells you, tugging gently as his jersey, looking down at the strip that drapes like silk over your cute tits and perfect frame. “Want you to have it…”

“But it’s yours.” you respond. You’re a little taken aback by how demure your voice is as you speak. It’s like you’re instinctively making yourself small for him. Your inner child is protecting you, still to this day. He shakes his head at your words, though.

“It’s yours, I’ve got plenty.” he assures you. He keeps a tight grip of your thighs as he begins to walk you further into the pool. You wrap your arms around his neck and will yourself to remain some semblance of control. But he smirks, his nose touching yours before he pulls away again. “You’re coming for a swim… do you want to take it off?” he wonders.

Your eyes widen in horror as you recall your decision to decision to forgo a bra, knowing it would ruin your outfit. You shake your head, defiantly.

You can’t.

“I’m not wearing anything underneath…” you inform him. He chuckles, at that. In his mind, he knows. And deep down, you know it too. If you don’t find your willpower soon, your bare-naked form won’t be an issue. He closes his eyes and holds them shut, laughing when you repeat his name a few times in an attempt to get him to open them again.

“Take it off, ‘m not looking. You can hide under the water.”

Your movements are halted but for barely any time at all. He has a way of making you submit to anything he wants and you aren’t sure why that is. You were so mad at him hours ago. You didn’t even want to have dinner with him.

But look at you now.

Your legs are wrapped tight around his waist and you’re throwing his football jersey away. It doesn’t land on a lounger, but near enough. And you hold onto his shoulders as he begins to walk you both deeper and deeper into the pool. You don’t want him to feel you, not like that.

It’s getting out of hand.

You can’t stop it.

You can’t help it.

“You can open your eyes.” you tell him, and he stops walking. His eyes slowly open and it takes an incredible amount of restraint for his eyes to not wander beneath the water. And, you feign innocence. You aren’t sure what is wrong with you, because you know you shouldn’t have. But you look away, pretending something in the distance has piqued your interest.

You give him the opportunity to leer at you.

And he’s so thankful.

Even submerged and obscured by the greenish, dithering water, your body looks like an oil painting. To him, you’re a work of art and he’s grateful that you’re even letting him experience you in the slightest. But this… you’re a masterpiece, he thinks.

“Hey,” he speaks, he moves a hand from your thigh to your chin and you cling to him instinctively. He guides your line of sight back to him, looking back at you with a serious stare. “You don’t need to fight me, you know.”

Your heart practically stops at that. At the very least you think it skips a beat. But you hold his stare, eyes vibrating as you look between his as you search for an explanation. Are you truly so easy to read?

He sees you wrestling with your conscience. He doesn’t want to intervene, but what else can he do? He pulls you closer to him, a surprised whimper leaving you as you feel your bare chest come into contact with his.

It doesn’t register to him, though.

You don’t fight when his lips begin to trail your own. No pressure is applied, but you’re breathing is heavy. And he can’t deny that his is matching your own.

“I’m not seventeen anymore.” he reminds you, quietly. Your eyes weld shut and your self-preservation begins to scream at you. Imploring you to have some fucking common sense.

You can’t.

“I know…” you confess.

You look at him briefly, giving him silent permission to proceed. And he takes it. Without hesitation he takes it as his lips capture yours in a sweet kiss. You feel like you’re in a romance novel as it continues. It’s polite but not entirely tame. And for you, it’s been entirely too long since you last kissed anyone. You feel him smile into the kiss when he hears the softest little moan crawl out of your throat. But it fades, fast, when he remembers how lucky he is to be experiencing this.

He doesn’t deserve it.

He doesn’t.

And so, he takes it seriously. He brandishes the plumpness and texture of your lips to the forefront of his mind as you allow him to continue. He implants the way your body arches into his as his fingers trace up the curve of your spine, and how your mouth parts ever so slightly when he reaches the nape of your neck.

You’re perfect.

“Has it been a while? Since you had sex.” he asks, quietly, like it’s some sordid little secret. You feel embarrassed when you register what he’s asking. The insecurity creeps in and you try to pull away. He doesn’t let you, though, pulling you closer and reaffirming his interest with another searing kiss. “You’re so responsive, baby, that’s all.” he tells you.

You kiss him again.

And you feel pathetic. Like a dog humping a stuffed animal as you begin to instinctively roll your hips against him as you beg for more.

“Feels like forever…” you confess, hiding your words into another kiss and hoping he’ll forget you even uttered them. You hear him grunt when you sensually slip your tongue between his lips. He reciprocates, licking at yours as he carries you to the edge of the pool again. “W-What about you?”

You regret asking. Of course, the answer won’t be the same for him. He’s gorgeous. Beautiful, in fact. He’s rich, famous, successful. You’re another in a long line of women who throw themselves at him when given the opportunity.

You certainly aren’t naïve enough to think otherwise.

“Since I had sex? Not too long ago.” he responds, and it’s effortless. You knew. You fucking knew and yet you’re still feeling hurt. And you feel ashamed of yourself in the same breath. It doesn’t matter, really, you know who came before you and who came before him are irrelevant to what’s happening right now in this moment. But still, the feeling of embarrassment lurks. “I don’t remember the last time I fucked anyone the way I want to fuck you, though.” he finishes.

And now, you’re ravenous.

Your lips find his again. And the politeness has died, drowned in the pool along with your morals and self-respect, you figure. Your fingers grab and pull at whatever they can find. One hand finds purchase on one of his biceps and digs and squeezes into the hard flesh. The other tugs and pulls at his hair residing just above his undercut.

And he moans when you yank his pretty orange tufts. He breaks the kiss, laughing, for a moment after he recognises what you just stole from the pits of his lungs.

You feel your ass come into contact with the edge of the pool as he sits you down in the middle of a kiss. He breaks it, sinking down further into the water until you’re looking down at him. Your heart rate quickens as you feel deft fingers hook into the waistband of your panties.

And you can’t control your body, moving on autopilot as you lean back and keep your legs together as he steals the black lace from your body. He has no regard for where they land, but you hear a faint splash as they float on the surface of the pool. You won’t see them again, you think. They’re soon to absorb the chlorinated water and sink to the tiles framing the pool.

You sit back upright but find yourself unable to meet his eyes again. Instead, you stare up at the ceiling as he gently pries your thighs apart one by one. He’s slow, and careful, as he parts them. Soaking in the sight of your intricate folds.

“Pretty everywhere, huh? So fuckin’ pretty…” he expresses. You feel his thumb drift along your inner thigh to your pubis. A soft, low chuckle escapes him as it comes into contact with your pubic hair. A perfect landing strip guiding his eyes to your scintillating cunt. “You did this for me.” he states. He doesn’t ask, he tells you. And your eyes snap back to look down at him, defensively splashing him with water.

“I didn’t know it was going to be you,” you remind him. “I wanted to be prepared in case I—”

“But it was me.” he interrupts, wrapping his arms around your thighs after wiping the excess water from his face. “You’re letting me see. So it’s all for me, princess.” he continues. You don’t have a response, despite his logic seeming broken at best. It’s for him, now. But had you known who would be walking into that restaurant…

His breath fans across your heat as he places his thumb at the top of your lips and pulls back the hood of your clit. You gasp, letting your head sink as you lean back on your hands and rest your weight on them. And he spits on it, sucking at it soon after.

“’h my God…” you start, moving a hand to his hair, threading your fingers through damp, orange strands as he continues to suckle at your clit.

You’ve lost the means to feel embarrassment anymore as he looks up at you with his head buried between your thighs. Though you can’t deny the hot flush you feel as he makes a holy show of flattening his tongue between your lips and licking upwards from your oozing hole to your still exposed clit.

But you lose him, again, as he decides to focus.

He didn’t think he could burrow any deeper between your legs until you feel his still hooked arm drag you closer to the pools edge. You tug at his hair again when he finds his rhythm, and he emits another grunt that vibrates throughout your sex.

You admire how his muscles flex as his grip around your thighs intensifies. He feels how your hips begin to buck, like you’re getting there. Like he’s helping you get there but you’re still trying to run from him.

You can’t.

Not anymore.

He looks up at you with golden retriever eyes as you begin to moan. It’s quiet, until it’s not. Quiet, secretive breaths begin to turn into sinful, saccharine moans that echo right back to you as they bounce from the walls.

His nose wiggles and nestles against the perfectly formed line of your pubic hair. It tickles, but he’s always had an affinity for landing strips. It’s nothing he can’t handle. And it’s something that drives him wild.

You clamp your legs around his head as you start to dance along the cliffs edge of your orgasm. But he parts them, easily, his veins bulge in his hands as he grips tightly into the doughy flesh of your thighs.

“Ren- Rensuke—!” you cry out, unable to even warn him before he’s already dragged you into toe-curling bliss. And he prolongs it, divinely, not altering his ministrations even as you begin to shudder and scream. “S��too much, Rensuke, f-fuck…” you pant, looking down at him as he finally begins to slow down.

“’m not done, though.” he warns you. He liberates your left thigh from his grasp, but his fingers lightly trail down your inner thigh and he can’t help but marvel at the sight of your sensitivity. You twitch and spasm from the lightest of touch.

Though the whine that rips through your vocal chords is just as delightful. You couldn’t help it, you couldn’t even predict it when you felt two thick fingers seamlessly slot inside of your clenching entrance and curl up against your g-spot.

“Fuuuuuck, no, Rensuke, c-can’t.” you warn him, partially succumbing to light headedness as you feel him hone in and target your squishy slippery inner walls without remorse. You’re shivering. You’d like to think it’s just the exposure of wet skin to the stormy air, but it’s too much. You know it’s too much.

“You think too much,” he tells you, head sinking low again to continue feasting upon your gorgeously ruined flesh. Your pussy pulsates through the recent orgasm and the overstimulation. He’s going to be disappointed when he realises you can’t even fathom the idea of cumming again.

You just can’t.

Your body goes limp as he nudges a particularly delicate spot and presses down on your lower abdomen. The moan that leaves you at the feeling is downright pornographic. You can’t see, you can’t feel, but he’s smirking. He doesn’t relent, but his ego and his cock swell with pride as that salacious fucking moan plays on repeat in his brain.

The hand applying pressure ventures up north of your body. And your cunt clamps down on his fingers as his adventurous hand grabs the fat of your breasts and gropes your flesh. You moan, weakly, with no energy left in you as he tweaks at your nipple with his thumb and forefinger.

You’re pathetic, you think.

It was this easy for him to reduce you to this.

But you can’t help it. Your body is spent and you can feel another orgasm climbing through your nervous system. And yet, despite being wrecked, your body still finds the energy to clench and groan as you feel pleasure surge through you. Your toes curl, again, before they spread and widen and you try and gain some sort of control over what Rensuke is thrusting upon you.

Another scream is torn from you as you fall, no, you’re pushed from what seemed like a higher cliff than the first. Your back arches from the tile and further into Kunigami’s titillating touch.

“Rensuke, I- I…” you aren’t even sure what you want to say when you begin babbling. You manage to rest your weight on your hands again and look down at him. He showers your inner thighs with adoring kisses, they’re sweet and loving and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were falling in love.

He pulls his fingers out of your spasming walls and looks up at you. Your jaw is agape, slightly, as you feel him spit a perfect glob of saliva onto your clit without even looking. He needs to stop. You shake your head as you see the gears turn in his brain and you catch up almost instantly. You try to pull his wrist away but you’re weak.

“C-Can’t, Rensuke… no more!” you tell him, despite trying to sound firm, you just sound pathetic.

He can’t stop.

So he doesn’t.

He rubs the two fingers that were inside you just moments ago repeatedly over your throbbing clit. The smile sprawling across his face is that of a menace. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He thinks he knows your body better than you do.

And, hell, he might.

You say you can’t.

But why are you moaning for him?

“Doin’ so good for me, princess.” he tells you, kissing your inner thigh again as he continues his assault. His eyes droop as he admires how tender and overstimmed your pussy is. You can keep going, though. He’s sure of it. “You moan really pretty when you cum… ‘n I can tell she likes attention.” he speaks, it’s gruff but somehow still soft. He doesn’t look at you right away after he speaks. Instead his eyes remain focused on your tremoring cunt.

“I’m— I c-aaaan’t. Anymore, no more, ‘mmm hmrmf…” you struggle to even make sense in your mind of what you were originally trying to say as the nonsense you actually spouted takes root in your brain. He laughs, shallowly, as you try to reason with him.

You can’t reason with him, though.

Not when he knows better and your cunt is betraying your weak will.

“Goin’ dumb for me ‘cause you feel too good, huh?” he chuckles, tilting his head as he tries to command your focus on him. The way every inch of your skin trembles with pleasure makes his cock leak like he could never imagine. He’s glad he’s in the water so you can’t see what a pathetic mess your pretty noises alone have him reduced to. Though he makes a mental note to get the pool cleaned tomorrow. “Don’t need to think when you’re cumming. Jus’ cum for me. Can tell she wants to… just let go, princess.”

“Haah, hn- hnnnnng—!” you finish with a cry, you can’t believe he’s managed to make you cum three times in such quick succession.

Even as an adult, Rensuke Kunigami has found a way to reduce you into a sobbing puddle.

He frees you, eventually, allowing your body to catch up to what has just happened. He finally lets you close your legs and allow your twitching quim to recover, alleviating the pressure between them.

He hoists himself out of the water, though. And he climbs effortlessly above you. And, really, you know he’s always been a big guy. It’s arguably his most defining trait. But fuck, like this, while you’re shivering and spent, he’s fucking massive.

“Do you want to stop?” he asks. The soft, caring voice contrasts completely with his all-consuming presence. He lowers his head to kiss between the valley of your breasts and down to your navel. But he stops short and looks at you again. “We can, if you want. But… I’m having fun with you.”

You should answer. He’s asking for consent, after all. Your lips part and reseal repeatedly as you try and decide on what to say. You’re having fun, too. But can you handle it? Can you handle more of this?

“You’re so… big.” you whisper, and you don’t know where that even came from. You giggle when you see him smile at your silly comment, and he immediately has a retort spring to mind.

“My cock matches, y’know. Why d’you think I made you cum so much?” he tells you. “Well… I like making pretty girls cum anyway, but you’ll thank me. If you wanna keep going, that is.”

“I want to fuck… want you to fuck me, ‘Suke.” you admit. He lifts your back away from the cold, damp tiles and pulls you into his embrace. You receive one final, show-stopping kiss from him as he pulls down his swim shorts. You keep your eyes on him, not having the confidence to look down below.

He grabs your chin, his thumb helping tilt your head and guiding you to look at his length. And, embarrassingly, you gasp. He chuckles, kissing your forehead and you look between him and the impressive size he possesses. It’s scary, honestly, looking at how thick and heavy his cock is and what it will feel like inside.

There isn’t a doubt in your mind that you’ve never seen a dick like this and you surely won’t again. He’s big, thick. And long to boot. His tip is prominent but soft. Like you could suck it into your mouth and hear a pretty pop sound once it’s in. You could run your tongue along the ridge and make him hiss from the pleasure.

The thickness is akin to an energy drink can. Eight long inches threaten to invade your apparently well-prepared walls, but still, you aren’t so sure. His veins aren’t prominent, but they’re there. You see them running along his shaft in different directions. And then you do find one. One throbbing, prominent vein as you admire each and every inch of his heavenly member.

You’ve never had an affinity for balls. Seeing them as a nuisance that are just there rather than anything you have any interest in pleasuring. But for him. For those. You could be persuaded. They’re heavy, God they look heavy but every inch of him does. He’s a large, imposing man and his balls are no exception.

It turns you on to no discernible degree to think about how full and aching his balls must be after you’ve teased him all night. How they’ll tighten and release as he floods you with his cum when he’s through with you.

“Need you, Rensuke, n-now.” you tell him, unable to function without feeling him inside of you for a second longer.

A brief panic shoots through your veins as he pulls you back into the water like a siren. But he stops short of pulling you to your death.

At least, in the literal sense.

You might experience your fourth little death as soon as he sticks his tip in you.

The water sloshes around you as you’re pushed into the pool wall. Your legs sit comfortably on his hips as he guides his still leaking cockhead into your greedy cunt. You moan in tandem as you become accommodated with each other.

“You’re so cute, s’fucking tight, princess.” he tells you, silencing any response you might have had with an ardent kiss. You try to pull away, but he doesn’t let you. And it’s calculated, of course, as he pushes further and further into your sticky walls.

It wasn’t enough.

Three wasn’t enough.

The thickness of his length would have you screaming if he wasn’t keeping a firm grasp on the crown of your head so you couldn’t pull away to voice how the stinging stretch was affecting you.

He doesn’t let go until he’s in. Fully in. You feel him kiss your cheeks and now you can finally moan, pant, screech if you so choose. But as your breathing comes out in hiccupped sobs, you realise he isn’t kissing your cheeks.

He’s kissing away your tears.

“Took me so well, gorgeous.” he mutters against your skin, still continuing to softly peck his lips against your damp skin. “You’re so good… such a good girl, princess. I’m so proud of you, bein’ so good f’me tonight.”

It makes you cry more, though you aren’t sure why. You can barely think about what he was like back then. When he was cruel and callous for no viable reason. But you’d never have heard such sweet sounds from him like you’re hearing now. You’re a good girl, and it’s for him.

Your tongues tangle into a clumsy fervour as he starts to move his hips. The sound water lapping at your bodies is deafening. He lifts you up, slightly, so that he can pound himself into you without restriction.

Both of you find it hard to keep kissing romantically and consistently the harder and faster he batters his cock against your insides. Your lips touch but your mouths hang open. And he’s looking at you. Really fucking looking at you as he drinks in every facial contortion you make from the feeling of his cock bullying itself against your self-destruct button.

He loves the way you bite your lip when you’re close. How your eyes cross and you look so damn wet and pathetic as he brings you to ruin again. It’s a sight he’d have tattooed on the back of his eyelids if he could. He’s been around the world and still couldn’t name a more beautiful sight.

Maybe you could be a porn star, he thinks. If both of your careers fall through, he knows what a good fallback will be if you were so inclined. You’re perfect. Every inch of you, top to bottom, is perfect.

You can barely hold onto consciousness as you feel his heavy breeder balls slap relentlessly against your ass. But you hang on, you have to when he grabs the lower half of your face and pinches your cheeks until your lips pucker.

“Is my good girl about to cum?” he asks, and you nod, dumbly. “That’s it… stay with me. Wanna watch your pretty face while you cum again.” he orders.

You breath faster, fighting against the crushing urge to close your eyes and let go of your body completely. But you’ll do anything he asks, in this moment, so long as he keeps calling you a good girl.

“Can I cum inside?” he asks, thrusts increasing in pace as he jackhammers into you. He’s close, too, but he wants you to cum first. It’ll tip him over the edge if you cream him like this. It’s all he wants. It’s all he needs. “Or should I p-pull out?” he struggles, the thought of spraying your body with his seed appeals to him just as much.

“D-Don’t pull out, Rensuke, don’t you dare…” you command. “Hnf, ah, I’m! Haaah, aah, f-fuck—!” you finish.

“Shit, shit.” he follows you right after. It seems that he would have came inside whether you wanted him to or not. “Ohhhh, fuck, baby. Fuckin’ perfect pussy… take it.” he finishes, too, his pace only slowing by a fraction as his cock spurts rope after rope of pearlescent cum into your cunt.

The sound of water calms after some time. The waves lap around you, carefully, as you breathe and sweat after such a vigorous workout.

It surprises you, a little, as he kisses you after the fact. You thought he’d turn a little colder after he got what he wanted. But you underestimate him again, clearly, as he kisses you sweetly.

“That… amazing.” you tell him, not possessing the energy to fill the rest of the sentence. The start and end are enough for him to figure it out, though. And he cradles your body in his arms as he walks you both to the shallower end of the pool with the staircase. “’m so tired.”

“I know, baby.” he hushes you, you feel like a child in his hold. You’re so little in comparison and you’re still surprised he didn’t break you. He manages to effortlessly pick up his jersey and walk you towards the pool room door. “Gonna get you cleaned up, ‘n we can go straight to sleep.” he promises.

You can’t remember the last time you got such a good nights sleep. Really, you barely remember even falling asleep. You remember Rensuke washing your body and your hair in a warm bubble bath. But you don’t remember him putting you to bed.

Waking up in his arms was a nice feeling, though.

So nice you felt compelled to wake him up with a reward.

He stirred in his sleep as you began to kiss down his bare chest and further down his body. He’s a light sleeper, you came to realise, as he woke up with a cheeky smile on his face and asked what you were doing.

You took his cock between your lips and showed him just how thankful you were for his attentive treatment and aftercare from last night. And you may have wanted to give him a reason to remember you if he wanted to consider going on another date.

He got close.

Really close.

Until he pulled you away to sit on his cock.

“’m not wasting my cum in your mouth when I can cream this cunt again.” he smirks, helping you straddle his hips before lowering yourself down onto that perfect fucking dick again. And he watches you ride him, his jersey riding up slightly with each rise and fall of your hips.

“L-Love your cock, Rensuke, s’fucking big.” you moan like a slut with no remorse. You can’t act coy anymore. Not after last night.

“S’all yours, baby.” he tells you. His attention is stolen from observing your enjoyment when he hears a buzzing on the side table. He reaches for it, and you don’t even notice while your eyes are screwed shut.

And he realises it isn’t his phone.

It’s yours.

He moves slightly, so that he’s sitting upright, covering your mouth as he answers the call. Your blood runs cold as you feel the cold glass of your iPhone screen pressed against your cheek and your ear. Your eyes widened in horror as you look down at Rensuke for help.

“Hello?!” Maisie.

He uncovers your mouth, allowing you to speak. “H-Hey, Maisie.”

“I texted you so many times, where have you been? Did you get home alright? I was so worried!” she yells at you. You can tell she’s in her office pacing back and forth on the tiles as her heels click with each step. She’s pacing. She’s furious.

“S-Sorry! I was just, it was a weird night!” you try and answer simply without lying or giving too much away. But your heart quick starts again as Rensuke holds onto your hips. You're mouthing and no no no! Butit’s ignored as he nods sadistically. He holds tightly onto your hips until your flesh spills between his fingers. And he fucks. You whimper pathetically as you seal your lips in a bid to keep quiet. He really is a sadist, he looks like he’s going to cum to the sight of you desperately trying to maintain your composure.

“I cannot believe I set you up with your old bully, that is so my luck.” she laughs. “Did you just get a taxi home?”

“A-Ah! Uh, yeah I know, c-crazy.” you struggle. “S-Sort of. Eliza was in the area so she picked me up.” so much for not lying.

“Oh, really? That’s good.” she replies, though the click clacking of her heels comes to a stop. “Weird, though, considering I rang all of the girls to see if any of them had talked to you. None of them did.”

“T-That’s… weird.” you reply, eyes rolling back as you try and maintain a level head and think of a way to get off the call. “Um, I uh—”

“I’m at work, just looking through some of my client's details. I’ve got Rensuke’s address up on my screen right now.” she starts. Oh fuck. “You know what else is on my screen?”

“W-What?”

“Find my fucking friend you little slut! Oh my God!” she screams, though you can’t tell if she’s actually screaming or if it’s melded into laughter. “Did you fuck your bully? You whore!”

“I— It’s complicated, nngh!” your free hand flies to your mouth as you spasm through another mind-altering orgasm shatters through you. Rensuke keeps a firm hold of your hips as you tighten around his cock. You hold the phone as far away from your face as you possibly can, though it doesn’t matter. Not when Rensuke cums in you again with no regard to his volume.

“Oh… my God.” Maisie speaks, though you barely hear it. You bring the phone back to your ear and sigh. You already know you’re busted, there’s no point in hiding it now. “I thought I heard a mattress squeaking. Have you just fucked?!”

“Hmph… yeah. Sorry.”

“I’ll pick you up later if you need a lift, I want all the details you absolute slut.” she laughs, sitting down in her office chair as she actually starts to do some work. “How was the date though, was it good?” she asks, knowing she’ll have to go soon.

You look at Rensuke’s pink, sweaty face and wide smile. You melt into the way his thumbs stroke into your sides so tenderly. And you smile back at him, a newfound confidence you’ve never felt before.

“It was… fucking amazing.”

#rensuke kunigami x reader #kunigami x reader #rensuke kunigami x you #kunigami smut #bllk x reader #bllk smut #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #kunigami x you #rensuke kunigami smut #tw alcohol consumption #tw dumbification #tw size difference #tw size kink #tw dacryphilia #tw praise #tw bullying mention

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p0orbaby · 5 months ago

Text

A Girl Consumed by Fire

summary: or the five times alexia kisses you in private and the one time she doesn’t care who sees anymore

warnings: a little suggestive at points but you’ll live, injury

a/n: yeah i know this trope has been rinsed to death. but do i care? absolutely bloody not

word count: 3.3k

Things between you and Alexia had always been, charged, so to speak.

Even on your first day you felt it. There was a static in the air when you were greeted at the gates. The corridors of Joan Gamper buzzed with, something.

You chalked it down to excitement. Why wouldn’t you? Your first day at a shiny new club with the prospect of winning lots of shiny trophies with the best players in the world. To not be excited would be offensive.

But it was when you saw her up close and personal for the first time that you understood what was going on. All she did was walk out of a meeting room, but the world seemed to pause in its tracks just for her. Her presence was suffocating in the best way, her stare intense as her eyes met yours briefly before she smiled and continued down the hall.

And that was that. Love at first sight you ask? Of course not..!

The band snaps 26 days into your contract.

You’re both sweaty and tired and alone.

Like after all sessions, the changing room is filled with the lingering scent of hard work and the faint hum of the overhead lights. You’re bent over, hands on your knees, catching your breath as the other players filter out, chattering about their plans for the evening, you think. You haven’t quite grasped the language yet.

Alexia on the other hand had stayed behind to work on a few extra drills, just like you had.

Perhaps it was subconscious on your part, staying later than you needed to. But the only plans you tended to have after work included either going home or walking off the lust that had bubbled through your chest whenever she kicked a ball.

You now know the footprint of Barcelona extremely well.

“Good work today,” she says, her voice low and a little husky from running around for three hours.

“Thanks, you too,” you reply, flashing her a tired smile as you straighten up and peel off your shirt, revealing your sports bra underneath. The cool air feels refreshing against your damp skin.

Spain is so fucking hot.

Then, like a game of chess, she makes her move.

She takes a step closer to you. A timid one at first as she scans the room to make sure the two of you are truly alone. There’s a tension in the air, a palpable electricity that seems to crackle between you as she locks her eyes with yours.

You’re not sure who moves next, but suddenly she’s right in front of you, standing tall and strong and oh so pretty above you. She reaches out, her fingers brushing against your arm, sending a lightning bolt of electricity dancing across your skin. Her touch is soft, almost hesitant, but there’s a boldness behind it that almost makes your knees buckle.

Before you can fully process what’s happening, Alexia leans in, her breath warm and quick against your skin. Then, she closes the gap, capturing your mouth in a quick, feather light kiss. It’s sudden and unexpected, and for a moment, you’re too stunned to react. Her lips are soft, tasting faintly of salt and the raspberry electrolyte drink she chungs between sets.

She pulls back just as quickly, her green eyes wide, searching yours for a reaction. There’s a mischievous smile tugging at her features, a rosiness in her cheeks that wasn’t there before.

“Eso es lo que pasa cuando te desnudas delante de mí,” she says, and you think she’s teasing you by the playful lilt on her voice. Or it’s just her beautiful Spanish accent. You really can’t tell.

For a moment, you’re speechless, your heart practically pounding out of your chest. The changing room feels both too small and impossibly vast at the same time, the air thick with the beginning of something you're too scared to think about in fear of it shattering in your hands.

You finally manage to find your voice, though the words come out sticky.“I-, I have no idea what you just said”

Alexia chuckles softly, the sound sending another shiver down your spine. She steps back, giving you one last lingering look before she turns to head for the showers. “See you tomorrow,” she calls over her shoulder, her voice echoing slightly in the empty room.

You’re left standing there, your mind in the clouds, replaying the moment over and over again. The kiss was cursory, but it’s burned into your memory. You touch your lips, still feeling the warmth of hers, and a smile creeps onto your face.

Phone, jacket, headphones, backpack.

All present and-, wait. Where’s your backpack?

“Where the fuck has that gone then?” You mutter to yourself as you check under your seat. The seat in front. Your overhead. And under your seat again to make sure you’ve not gone crazy.

As you suspected, you hadn’t. It isn’t there. This is really not the time.

“Todo bien?” Comes a very familiar, very sudden voice from the front of the bus however long later.

It startles you, enough that you end up banging your head on the underside of a table.

“Hi, Ale” you say between wincing and rubbing the bruise forming on the back of your skull, “everything’s fine”

“You are on the bus, no?”

You sigh, shaking your head as you peer out from your crouching position. “I can’t find my bag. I must’ve shoved it under the seat, but it’s not here”

She abandons her own bag before striding your way and drops down beside you. “I help you to look” she says with a smile so warm it could melt the ice caps in an afternoon.

The bus is quiet now with the two of you silent and occupied with the task at hand. Though it’s a type of quiet you’re comfortable with. One that doesn’t need to be filled with small talk or waffle or the awkward cleaning of throats.

You’re about to give up until finally Alexia spots your bag wedged between a seat and the wall.

“Lo encontré,” she says, pulling it out and holding it straight out in front of her. Frowning as she notices how covered in dust it now is.

You briefly wonder if she will be having words with the bus maintenance staff.

Regardless, relief floods through you as you take the bag from her. “I’m going to kill those fucking kids”. She looks at you with her eyebrows raised and that smirk she saves for when she pretends she's not listening to you and Mapi arguing. “I mean, thank you Ale”

“No te estreses. Tus espinilleras de la suerte están a salvo”

“I know I know. I’m trying” you reply, bashful that she knows about your scabby old kit and your weird little traditions.

She grabs your chin then, her large hand lifting your head so you can look at her. “Esfuérzate más” she commands before she ducks her head and attaches her lips to yours.

It’s quicker than before, if at all possible. But the intent behind it so much different. Like a balm healing your wounds rather than a stoker provoking a flame.

“¿Mejor?” She asks when she fully retreats.

“Better” you repeat because you are. You so are.

You feel like you’re having an affair. It has the factors of one, at least.

Whispered calls when at your respective international camps, stolen glances during meetings, and now, these secretive moments together. It’s early in the morning at the gym, the sun just beginning to rise, its soft glow painting itself over the equipment.

You’re both here early to avoid the rush, but also to steal a few moments alone. The air is filled with the faint buzz of the HVAC system, the occasional clink of weights, and your own rapid heartbeat. Alexia finishes her set and looks over at you, her eyes filled with an unspoken yet very obvious question.

You nod subtly, understanding her without words. She approaches you, and without preamble, takes your hand and leads you to a secluded corner of the gym, hidden from view by the array of machines and weights.

She turns to you, her eyes scanning your face, searching for any hesitation. Finding none, she steps closer, her lips finding yours in a kiss that’s urgent and full of quashed emotion. Rife with the risk and thrill of being caught.

“He estado pensando en ti toda la noche,” she admits between kisses, and you whimper into her mouth.

You had your first official date the evening before. A dimly lit Asian restaurant in a quiet corner of the city. Lingering touches under the table. Her nose running against the angles of your jaw as she holds back her urges on the pavement outside.

You had been thinking about her all night too.

Her hands move to your waist, pulling you closer, and you respond in kind, your arms wrapping around her shoulders. The gym’s early morning quiet makes the moment feel even more intimate, as if the world outside has ceased to exist.

“I can’t get enough of you,” you breathe out, breaking the kiss for a moment to look into her eyes. They’re almost black, hungry, impatient to get what she wants. And you’re happy to give it to her.

“Pues no lo hagas” she replies, her voice raw and filled with desire. She kisses you again, deeper this time, her hands roaming over the expanse of your back. Sweat be damned as her fingers breach the hem of your top to trace over tacky skin.

You groan into her mouth, feeling her touch ignite a raging fire inside you. Her hands slide up, pulling you even closer, the kiss growing more desperate. Her breath is hot against your skin as her lips move down your jaw, then your neck.

“Alexia,” you gasp, your hands gripping her tighter, nails leaving crescent moons in her skin as they dig into her shoulders. She looks up at you from under her lashes, her eyes filled with the same aching need you feel.

But just as you’re about to give yourselves to each other completely, a noise from the entrance makes you both jump. You pull apart, breathless and wide-eyed, turning to see one of the training staff walking in, clearly shocked to find people in here so early.

“Uh, no esperaba a nadie aquí todavía”, he stammers, looking between the two of you suspiciously.

“Sólo estábamos... entrenando un poco más...,” Alexia says quickly, shakily, as she tries to regain some semblance of composure.

“Right,” you add, trying to steady your own breathing and smooth the creases Alexia has created on your clothes. “Early bird and all that”

Rafael nods slowly, still looking very slightly puzzled. Your English idioms flying straight over his head. “Bueno, entonces iré a prepararme. Disculpadme”

As he walks away, you and Alexia share a look, adrenaline still thrumming painfully through you. You’re transported back to your teenage years, hiding things from your parents. Giggling about all things relationships with your friends at the dinner table at lunch.

“¿Más tarde?,” she asks, fiddling with the bottom of your shirt.

“Definitely,” you reply, giving her a kiss on her lust bitten cheek before you both return to your routines. Always making sure there was blonde hair in your periphery.

The trip had been a welcome break from the relentless pace of the season. The team had earned a couple days respite, and the serene coastal town of Cadaqués provided the perfect escape. Now, you find yourself on the balcony of the hotel room, the ocean waves crashing softly in the distance. The evening air is cool, carrying the salty scent of the sea.

You’re both sitting side by side, the balcony’s small table cluttered with the remains of your dinner. Alexia’s hand is resting on the armrest of your chair, her fingers just grazing yours.

“I can’t believe how peaceful it is here,” you say, breaking the comfortable silence. Leaning your head back to bask in the remainder of the sun.

Alexia turns to you, a soft smile on her lips. A smile saved just for you, you’ve learnt. Well you and her precious trophies, but that’s by the by. “Sí, lo sé. Es bueno... respirar”

You nod in agreement, your eyes drifting out to the horizon where the sky is painted in hues of pink and orange. Mesmerised by the boats rocking on the water. You wonder if Ale would ever be up to sailing one herself.

The conversation flows easily enough, touching on everything from the match preparations to the local cuisine. It’s comfortable, natural, the kind of exchange that happens between two people who know each other well.

“Voy a tomar una copa,” Alexia says after a while, standing up and stretching. “¿Quieres algo?”

“Surprise me,” you reply.

As she heads inside, she pauses to lean down and press a quick, tender kiss to your waiting lips. It’s effortless, an instinctive expression of affection that has become part of your routine. Woven into the fabric of your relationship, never to be unpicked.

“Volveré,” she says with a smile before disappearing into the room.

You sit back, a content smile on your face, listening to the sounds of the evening. It’s moments like these, simple and unforced, that make everything feel as though this is exactly where you’re supposed to be.

Alexia returns a few minutes later with a can of coke for you and a water for herself. She hands you the can and sits back down, her shoulder brushing against yours.

Cotidie morimur, we die every day. It’s dramatic but today it has shown to be true.

Alexia scoffed when you recited it to her, but you have a right to be frustrated. And frustrated you’ll be for however long your body takes to heal.

You’re sidelined for weeks, maybe longer, and the reality of it all hits you hard. The doctors have diagnosed it as a torn Semimembranosus. Otherwise known as a really fucking bad hamstring strain. And the limitations on your movement are a constant reminder that you can no longer do for what you are paid.

Alexia has been by your side through it all, a constant steadfast presence of comfort and support. Now, she’s helping you in the bathroom, her bathroom, her movements careful and tender as she assists you into the shower. The water is warm, cascading over your skin, but it does little to soothe the ache in your heart.

“Let me help,” Alexia says softly, her voice breaking the silence. She speaks in English because she knows you’re far too overwhelmed to translate what she is saying. She is too good for you.

You nod, too exhausted, too emotional to speak. She takes the soap and gently lathers it over your shoulders, her movements light and careful around your sore muscles. You can’t hold back the tears anymore, and they join forces with the water running down your face.

“I know it is hard,” she murmurs, her voice thick with easy empathy as she washes your back. “But you will get through this. We will get through this”

You sniffle, trying to keep the sobs at bay, but you fail miserably. Your throat closes the more you try to push the tears back to where they came from. “I feel so useless”

She turns you gently to face her, her eyes searching yours through the water droplets clinging to her own lashes. “You are not useless. You are strong. This… this is just a moment. It will pass”

The sincerity in her eyes is your undoing. The tears come harder now, and Alexia pulls you into a careful embrace, mindful of your half broken body. She presses a soft kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, her lips warm and reassuring as you stand there trembling in her arms.

“Estoy aquí,” she whispers against your skin. “I am here”

Her words are an outstretched hand, grounding you as you let the emotions run their course. She continues to help you wash, her touch gentle and comforting as she cleanses you. When the sobs finally subside, she leans in and kisses you softly, her lips tender against yours.

She is apologising through her actions as though she is to blame.

You cling to her, the kiss a salve to your wounded spirit. It’s a promise, a reminder that you’re not alone in this. As the water continues to fall around you, Alexia stands tall, strong, steady. Making up for the slouch in your shoulders and the bump in your road.

“Thank you,” you whisper into her collarbones when the kiss ends, your voice unstable as if it does not trust itself to do its job.

She smiles, brushing a damp strand of hair from your face. “Always, mi amor. We will get through this together”

D Day.

Your first game back after the injury. You feel like a phoenix rising from the ashes.

The atmosphere in the stadium is electric as always, and you can feel the energy of the crowd pulsing through you as you step out of the tunnel. Every cheer, every chant feels like a victory in itself.

The game has already been secured, your team leading with a comfortable three goal cushion coming up to the final ten minutes of the game.

The subs board goes up when the ball goes out of play. Aitana’s number for yours. Your cue. Your heart leaps out of your chest when you step up to the touchline.

As discussed the weeks leading up to this moment, Jona thought it best to ease you back in, giving you the last few minutes to get a feel for the field again. It’s a calculated move, a chance for you to shake off the rust without any pressure.

And you didn't. You had fun. You felt fresh and new and ready to take on the world.

As the final whistle blows, signaling the end of the match, a wave of relief and triumph washes over you.

You’ve made it. You’re back.

The cheers of the fans fill the air, but nothing compares to the sight of Alexia running towards you, her face flushed and sweaty and happy. She reaches you, and before you can say anything, she pulls you into a tight hold.

“Estoy tan orgullosa de ti,” she whispers fiercely, her voice so full of pride it makes tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

Happy tears this time though. You don’t think you’ve got any sad ones left.

“Thank you,” you manage to reply, the words barely escaping your lips before her mouth is on yours.

The kiss is spontaneous, a crude outpouring of emotion that catches you off guard. It’s fierce, passionate, and utterly uninhibited. For a moment, the world around you fades away. There’s only Alexia, her lips on yours, her hands gripping at your shirt like she never wants to let you go.

Somewhere in the distance you hear the flurry of chears and gasps from the crowd, but neither of you pay it any mind. This moment is yours, a testament to everything you’ve endured and overcome together. When you finally pull back, her eyes are shining with her own unshed tears.

“Te quiero,” she says, her voice steady despite the tumultuous fire coursing through her. The shake of her hands. How she tiredly leans into you. You are Icarus and she is the sun.

“I love you too,” you reply, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. Your pain finally thawed.

Your teammates swarm around you both, their hails and congratulations mirroring those coming from the sea of Blaugrana in the stands. Mapi claps you on the back, grinning like a cat who has just got the cream. “¡Vaya beso! Now that’s how you make a comeback”

You laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep inside you, unable to be contained. The team forms a circle around you, and for a moment, you stand at the center of it all with Alexia by your side, feeling more loved and supported than you ever have before.

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #fcb femeni #fcb femeni x reader #espwnt #espwnt x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine

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bellawoso · 5 months ago

Text

everywhere

aitana bonmati x reader

a/n : the sleeveless training top kills me every time i see it

aitana had been obsessed impressed with you ever since the 2021 games of barcelona vs arsenal, although she knew that she should be overcome by feelings of pride for her teams winnings, she couldnt help but let her small crush on you get in the way of her celebrations.

sure she was tired after the match, but so was everyone else, and they still managed to have a night out in the london bars. aitana however, spent all night stalking your instagram account on a random fake account she had, normal behaviour right?

after the 2022 euros knockout match, where england were victorious, aitanas crush which she thought was gone, came back even bigger when instead of immediately celebrating with your teammates, you instead went to the nearest spanish player to you, which happened to be the spaniard herself, and started consoling her. your hand on her back made her skin tingle, and momentarily she almost forgot about the loss when you whispered into her ear how she played a good game, before bringing her in for a warm embrace. aitana didnt waste the chance of wrapping her arms round your waist as yours went around her neck.

the brunette wouldnt be surprised if she dropped down with a heart attack right there when you requested for a shirt swap, with you both being number 6 nationally. seeing her name sprawled across your back definitely didnt ease her racing heart or her flushed cheeks.

———

the next time you saw the spaniard was at the world cup final, although you were out with your ACL injury at the time, you still wouldnt miss this match for the world. as soon as england lost you were straight onto the pitch, comforting your national teammates, who were about to see spain being crowned world champions.

you were just about to go talk to lucy, a close friend of yours from national camps, until aitana stepped in your path. you had grown quite fond of the girl, despite the fact you had never played for the same teams, you both respected each other greatly, and often congratulated each other through instagram of the others achievements. you werent quite ready for the girl stepping out in front of you, you were still on crutches, almost ready to come off them, the spaniard just clipped your crutch with her boot causing you to tumble forward slightly. luckily the brunette was ready to catch you, her strong arms gripping onto your waist whilst she repeated “lo siento” and lectured her self in spanish, until you cut her off “hola aita, good game you deserve this so much, i know how hard you worked to get here.”

“ah yes- gracias y/n, i am upset you dont play today, im sure you would have made a difference” aitana managed to get out, in slightly broken english but you found it extremely endearing.

“yes i am sad too, but i will be back for the euros before you know it! so, balon d’or huh?” you said with a grin, it was extremely obvious that the girl you was talking to was going to be a future balon d’or winner, despite her humble nature as she argued with you, saying there are other people who deserve it more than her.

until you cut off her rambling once again “aita it was so lovely catching up with you, but im positive all of your teammates are waiting for you to celebrate, i wouldnt want to keep you” you stated with a soft smile and a glance at ona who waited behind aitana, and seemed to have finished consoling lucy.

as aitana turned to walk away, you started walking over to lucy, painfully unaware of the extremely obvious glances aitana kept giving you over her shoulder, the spaniard prayed you didnt hear onas teasing.

———

it was around the start of december when you began playing again, helping by scoring 2 goals in the 4-1 win against chelsea. it was unsurprising how you had ended up on barcas radar, it was very unusual for a player to somehow be better than they were pre-ACL, after only just returning. it was safe to say that aitana had watched every single arsenal game since you returned, even on the ones where you didnt play, just to catch a glimpse of you on the bench. the other girls on her team had noticed this, and despite aitanas insistence that it was to keep up with the WSL and to check on laia codina, her teammates werent stupid. and it was painfully obvious every time aitanas breath hitched when you were displayed on the screen, which was quite often as you were a fan favourite.

you had also developed a bit of a fan-girling crush on the spaniard herself, it was hard not to when you saw her training pictures on her story daily, and couldnt help but wonder what you would have to do to be blessed enough to witness her training in real life.

clearly you didnt have to do much, as your manager called you one day to talk about potential transfers, one immediately stood out to you, barcelona.

it all happened very quickly in your opinion, although your manager disagreed as barcelona were actually being quite annoying with offering you a contract as they were constantly holding it until last minute. until finally they managed to sit you down with pen and paper, for you to begin your new journey with them. the media followed shortly after, barcelona and arsenal seemingly decided to just dump all of your departure and new arrival videos on every single social media platform they had.

aitana was at home when the media teams dropped your videos, immediately clicking on the notification from barcelonas instagram. she had been waiting for a while for keiras fully edited catalan interview to be posted, so she was visibly shocked when instead she was met with the sight of you in the barca home kit.

aitana definitely knew she was down bad when she couldnt fall asleep that night, her thoughts clouded of you in that stupid home kit, even better, in the barca tracksuit you had worn for your interviews.

she quickly sent you an short instagram message just to say ‘hola, welcome to barca amiga :)’ before finally managing to fall asleep.

———

your arrival was soon after, and despite your initial worry of not fitting in to the team, you soon learned that you got along fine with the girls after your first training session. from the very beginning aitana clung to you, immediately becoming your bestfriend on the team and promising to take you to all of the best hidden gems in barcelona. it was amusing to the team of how obvious aitana was being and how oblivious you were to it all.

such as the day where aitana was hit twice on the head by a football after not hearing the shout of “heads” while staring at you with heart eyes as you laughed with ona.

or when she was still running laps and warming up with keira whilst you had a 1 v 1 with lucy, and she ran into a goal post. she never truly lived that one down, and the whole team new about it as she had to go down to medical with a minor concussion and miss the next match due to her headache.

the bonus was that you were too scared to leave aitana at her apartment by herself after reading up about concussions online, so you stayed with her for a week. which was longer than necessary, but aitana didnt need to know the real reason for your insistence to stay.

the most recent thing to happen was when she dropped a weight on keiras foot in the gym when she saw you walk in, looking particularly good in the training kit today, this action made the english girl snap, telling aitana to just go admit her feelings, whilst cursing under her breath and walking to the medical room for an ice pack.

lucy came up behind aitana after keira left, chuckling about the previous incident but also to reassure the spaniard “dont worry aitana, ive known y/n for ages, she likes you back, trust me” she said, making aitana nod and turn on her heels to confidently and calmly walk over to you, as you were currently near the mats with ingrid.

except this didnt happen, as aitana didnt seem very confident or calm at all as she tripped as she neared you, causing her to stumble straight into you, sending the both of you tumbling straight to the floor.

“dios mío! lo siento y/n, i dont know what happened!” you stayed on the floor laughing about what just happened, as vicky came over “i think i know what happened, aitana just fell for y/n!” the younger girl shouted for the entire gym to hear like the pest she was, causing both you and aitana to flush bright red, still on the floor.

until aitana leaned over to you “while were still down here, will you please go on a date with me?” she asked giving her best puppy dog eyes.

“i would love to aita”

———

you and aitana went on the date on saturday, the brunette had chosen for the two of you to go to a coffee shop in the little town where she was raised, you could tell just how proud and passionate she was of where she was born. at first, things were a bit awkward between the two of you, until you fell back into your usual rhythm of chatting and laughing.

except for when aitana bumped into someone she knew from her youth, and stumbled a bit over her words when introducing you, the words “shes my girl-” coming out of her mouth before blushed cut her self off and ended up blurting out “y/n, shes my y/n” with an awkward, toothy grin.

this made you burst out laughing, at aitanas newfound social awkwardness, and the strangers confusion, it was only after they walked away that you playfully bumped your shoulder against hers, saying “if you wanted to be my girlfriend you could have just asked” with a smirk.

“cállate! muy molesta-“ as she carried on with her spanish rambling making you smile at seeing her worked up state until she suddenly asked “wait were you being serious that i can ask to be your girlfriend?”

“well normally back in england we dont ask the person for permission to ask them to be our girlfriend, but whatever suits you tana!” you answered back playfully.

“fine then! i wont ask if your going to be all sarcastic about it” the older girl replied. “sure you wont aita, sure.” taking a sip from your water bottle while the brunette seemed to be giving you the silent treatment

“be my girlfriend” she suddenly stated, making you choke on your water “thats really not how we ask back in england, spain must be very different” you thought aloud.

“stop it! just confirm it with me, we are basically dating all ready!” aitana huffed in faux frustration about how annoying you were being about this. “okay, okay! i would love to be your girlfriend then aitana.” this made her grin, so you were guessing you were in the good girlfriend books at the moment.

you and aitana went on many more dates after that, the two of you fit so perfectly. although you were both extremely talented footballers, aitana was always very work focused, whereas you got bored of things like match analysis very easily. where aitana was extroverted around new people, you were usually very quiet around strangers. you both balanced each other out very well, aitana often having to help you with your match analysis, and you being the one to get aitana to bed at the right time instead of letting her rewatch the match again.

———

one thing that aitana never really seemed to grow out of was the honeymoon stage, after two months of being together openly, she really should have got used to the fact that you were hers and she was yours. however, the spaniard never quite got over the fact that the two of you were actually together, especially after crushing in you for the past couple of years.

this led to her quite literally just trailing around after you everywhere, like a lost puppy. when you finally snapped and told her to go to keira, and socialise with her friends, said lost puppy suddenly became a kicked puppy that looked like you just abandoned it on the side of the road.

“but amorrrr, i wont bother you! i promise!” she begged, giving you her best puppy dog eyes.

“aitana no! you have hardly spoke to your friends all week, and although i love you, your starting to really annoy me!” you said. your girlfriend had already dropped a dumbell on your ankle after she decided she needed to do her arm workouts right next to your workout mat. she had then spilt coffee all over you, which although she claims is all okay now as she gave you her hoodie to replace your top, you never quite got over the sticky coffee feeling in your skin.

your last straw was when she decided to try trail right behind you into your meeting with jonatan and some of the other coaches, solely a checkup and a one to one meeting about things to work on in training.

“aitana no! go to keira please, i love you but this is a one on one meeting, your not allowed to be in here” you didnt leave time for her to argue as you quickly planted a kiss on her lips and went into the room, shutting the door straight behind you.

you were never normally one to reject your girlfriends clinginess, however sometimes you just needed your own personal space, and today was an odd day where things werent going right and your temper was short.

you were going to apologise to aitana, but as soon as you came out of your meeting she was there with flowers and coffee for you, and saying sorry for annoying you today. “aitana no, its fine, if anything, i am sorry. i love being around you as your my girlfriend, but i do think its important you start hanging out with your friends again!”

“yes amor i understand, i actually went with ona to get the flowers and she got some for lucy too!” aitana replied, as she planted a kiss on your lips.

on the way home, aitana also called at one of your favourite shops that sold books and records. despite her being more of a spotify and film person, she still made an effort to be enthusiastic in the shop. she definitely did not get bored and decide to pull you in for a kiss behind the non fiction book shelf.

however, she still never really left her honeymoon phase.

———

yourusername

liked by ingrid_engen, lucybronze and 23,962 others

caption: she follows me everywhere but its okay tagged: aitanabonmati

comments:

aitanabonmati: you love it

-> yourusername: i do.

lucybronze: you two make me throw up

-> yourusername: dont act like you and ona arent the same.

marialeonn16: i counted 3 balls to aitanas head yesterday training

-> vickyylopezz._: she fell over aswell 😭

-> yourusername: guys leave tana alone! 🥹

-> aitanabonmati: what my gf said.

user1: they are so cute omg 😭

user2: power couple!

user3: best woso couple there is

———

a/n: this is not proofread so no judgement to bad grammar pretty pleasee

#Spotify #woso #woso community #woso x reader #barcelona femeni #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni x reader #aitana bonmati #mapi leon #mapi león #ona batlle #alexia putellas #aitana #aitana bonmati x reader

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theuntoldstorythatneedsawriter · 2 months ago

Text

Surprise ! 🥅🎉

Alexia Putellas x reader x Mapi León

warning : fluffy 💭💗

(my first language isn't english nor spanish, sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes)

Summary :

You decide to surprise your girlfriends at training. Unintentionally signing yourself up for a football lesson.

You had been planning this for weeks, keeping secrets from both Mapi and Alexia was no small task, but somehow, you’d managed. With both of your girlfriends playing for FC Barcelona Femení, their schedules were extremely full, leaving little time for surprise gestures. But today, you were determined to change that.

The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the training ground as you made your way toward the field. The girls didn’t know you were coming, and the anticipation bubbling inside you was almost too much to contain. You had arranged with the coaching staff to sneak in during their water break, hoping to catch them both completely off guard.

As you approached, you could hear the familiar sound of cleats hitting the grass and the playful banter between the players. Your heart swelled with affection as you spotted Mapi and Alexia, completely in their element, commanding the field with their usual grace and intensity. Mapi, with her fierce determination and strong presence, was effortlessly blocking shots while Alexia, ever the leader, guided her teammates with ease. You waited just out of sight until the coach called for a water break. This was your chance.

With a deep breath, you stepped onto the field, carrying a couple of their favourite drinks in hand. You approached quietly, watching as Mapi and Alexia grabbed their bottles, talking and laughing with each other. Mapi’s signature smirk flashed as she wiped sweat from her brow, while Alexia’s focus never truly wavered, even during a break. As you got closer, Mapi spotted you first. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she nudged Alexia, who turned to see what had caught her attention. The moment their gazes locked onto you, both of their expressions shifted from shock to pure joy.

- ¡Cariño! (Love !)

Mapi exclaimed, quickly closing the distance between you with a wide grin plastered on her face. She wrapped her arms around you tightly, her sweaty jersey clinging to your skin, but you didn’t mind. The warmth of her embrace and the happiness in her voice made it all worth it.

- ¡No nos dijiste que vendrías! (You didn’t tell us you were coming! )

Alexia added, her face lighting up as she joined the hug, sandwiching you between them. Her arms found their way around you and Mapi, squeezing you both as she kissed your cheek softly.

- Bueno, no sería una sorpresa si te lo dijera, ¿verdad? (Well, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, would it?)

You replied, laughing as you held them close, soaking in the feeling of being in their arms. Mapi pulled back slightly, giving you one of her signature playful looks.

- Realmente sabes cómo mantenernos alerta, ¿no? (You really know how to keep us on our toes, don’t you?)

Alexia, always the calm and composed one, smiled softly at you, her eyes filled with affection.

- Esta fue una buena sorpresa. (This was a good surprise)

She murmured, her hand gently brushing your arm as she glanced at Mapi with a knowing look.

- Pensé que podrías aprovechar un pequeño descanso. (I thought you could use a little break)

You said, handing them their favorite drinks.

- Además, las extrañé a las dos. (Plus, I missed you both)

- Siempre sabes cómo cronometrar las cosas perfectamente. (You always know how to time things perfectly)

Mapi said, taking a sip from her drink before leaning in to kiss you quickly on the lips. Her kiss was gentle but full of love. Alexia’s eyes softened as she watched the interaction before pressing her own soft kiss to your forehead.

- También te extrañamos. (We missed you, too)

She admitted quietly, her hand sliding into yours. The rest of the team had noticed by now, and a few of the players nudged each other, clearly amused by the little reunion happening in the middle of training. You could hear the teasing remarks, mostly from Patri and Aitana, about how cute the three of you looked together.

- ¡Nos vas a hacer quedar mal con todo este romance! (You’re gonna make us look bad with all this romance!)

Patri called out with a grin, causing Alexia to laugh and shake her head.

- ¿Celosa? (Jealous?)

Mapi shot back, smirking as she draped an arm around your shoulder.

- Siempre. (Always)

Patri replied with a wink before jogging off to get ready for the next drill.

- Creo que será mejor que volvamos a entrenar. (Guess we’d better get back to training)

Alexia sighed, though her hand lingered in yours for a moment longer.

- Pero gracias por venir, significa mucho para mí. (But thank you for coming. It means a lot.)

You smiled, squeezing her hand before letting go.

- Estaré mirando desde las gradas. Hazme sentir orgulloso. (I’ll be watching from the stands. Make me proud.)

- Siempre. (Always)

Mapi grinned, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek before jogging back to the field with Alexia beside her, both of them throwing one last glance over their shoulders at you.

As you settled into the stands, watching your girlfriends return to training with renewed energy, you couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky. They were fierce on the field, but with you, they were always warm and full of love. And moments like this—surprises and all—reminded you of just how special your relationship with them truly was. You watched them for a while, their movements on the field seamless and powerful, a perfect balance of skill and grace. Alexia’s commanding presence was magnetic, she directed plays with such ease, making everything look almost effortless. Mapi, on the other hand, was all fire and tenacity. Her energy was contagious, and you could tell from the way she defended that her heart was in every single tackle. Your gaze followed the two of them as they exchanged a quick look mid-play, a silent communication between them that spoke volumes. You smiled to yourself, feeling a swell of pride at being part of their lives, knowing how much love and respect they shared both on and off the field.

Just as the training session was about to wrap up, you noticed Mapi glance in your direction with a mischievous grin spreading across her face. Alexia, standing a few meters away, raised an eyebrow as she noticed. Before you had a chance to even process what was happening, Mapi sprinted towards you. You stood, confused but grinning, wondering what she was up to.

- Qué vas a— (What are you—)

Before you could finish, she had hopped the barrier to the stands and scooped you up in her arms, laughing loudly.

- Mapi !

You squealed in surprise, your arms instinctively wrapping around her neck as she carried you back towards the field. Alexia followed close behind, her expression amused yet slightly exasperated.

- No puedo llevarla a ningún lado. (I can’t take her anywhere)

she muttered fondly, shaking her head as she jogged after the two of you. By the time Mapi reached the edge of the field, the rest of the team had gathered, looking on with a mix of laughter and curiosity. You could see Patri holding up her phone, probably filming the whole thing.

- ¿Qué estás haciendo? (What are you doing?)

You asked breathlessly, half laughing, half protesting as Mapi set you down in the middle of the field.

- Pensé que sería divertido que te unieras a nosotros para el final. (Thought it’d be fun to have you join us for the end)

Mapi replied with a wicked grin, her arm still draped around your waist. Alexia finally reached the two of you, shaking her head with an indulgent smile.

- Eres imposible. (You’re impossible)

She said to Mapi, though her eyes sparkled with affection. Then, turning to you, she added,

- Pero, para ser honesto, creo que es justo que experimentes lo que pasamos todos los días. (But, to be honest, I think it’s only fair you experience what we go through every day.)

You looked between the two of them, half-jokingly wondering if they were serious.

- ¿Quieres que entrene contigo? (You want me to train with you?)

Mapi raised an eyebrow.

- ¿Por qué no? Ya estás aquí. (Why not? You’re here now.)

She shot a teasing glance at Alexia.

- ¿Qué te parece, Ale? ¿Deberíamos hacerles unos ejercicios? (What do you think, Ale? Should we put them through a few drills?)

Alexia’s lips curved into a small, thoughtful smile as she stepped closer to you, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

- Pienso que es una gran idea. (I think it’s a great idea)

Her voice was soft but with a hint of playfulness that made your heart race. The other players, sensing the entertainment that was about to unfold, began encouraging you to join. “¡Vamos! (Come on!)” Aitana called out with a laugh. “Let’s see what you’ve got!”

- I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?

You muttered, but the truth was, you couldn’t say no to either of them. Mapi handed you a practice jersey and a pair of cleats, her eyes shining with mischief as she helped you lace them up.

- No te preocupes, seremos indulgentes contigo. (Don’t worry, we’ll go easy on you)

- No te creo ni un segundo. (I don’t believe you for a second)

You shot back, but you were already laughing as you let them lead you onto the field.

The next twenty minutes were a blur of sprints, passing drills, and defensive maneuvers. Alexia, ever the perfectionist, coached you through each movement with a mixture of patience and encouragement, while Mapi, of course, took every opportunity to tease you. You stumbled a few times, but every time you looked up, there was one of them smiling, supportive, and clearly loving every second of having you there with them. By the time the final whistle blew to end the session, you were breathless and sweaty, but your heart was full. Mapi jogged over, a cheeky grin plastered on her face as she handed you a water bottle.

- No está mal para ser la primera vez. (Not bad, for a first-timer.)

Alexia appeared at your side, wiping the sweat from her brow.

- Lo hiciste genial. (You did great)

She said softly, pressing a quick kiss to your temple.

- Pero quizás dejen el fútbol en nuestras manos, ¿de acuerdo? (But maybe leave the football to us, okay?)

You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning into both of them.

- Trato. (Deal)

As the team gathered their things to head to the locker room, Patri approached, phone still in hand.

- Tengo un vídeo genial de vosotros dos entrenando. Tienes suerte de que sea un buen amigo. Te lo enviaré antes de publicarlo en cualquier sitio. (I got some great footage of you two coaching. You’re lucky I’m a good friend, I’ll send it to you before I post it anywhere)

She teased with a wink. Mapi groaned dramatically.

- Por favor, no más desastres en las redes sociales. (Please, no more social media disasters)

- Demasiado tarde. (Too late)

Patri grinned, already tapping away on her phone.

- Pero no te preocupes, te haré quedar bien. (But don’t worry, I’ll make you look good.)

With a shake of your head, you followed Alexia and Mapi off the field, feeling utterly content. As the three of you walked hand-in-hand towards the locker room.

#barca femeni #barca femini x reader #barca x reader #fc barcelona #woso x reader #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #maria leon #alexia putellas x y/n #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #alexia x reader #alexia x mapi #alexia putellas x reader x mapi leon #alexia putellas x reader x maria leon #mapi leon x reader x alexia putellas #maria leon x reader x alexia putellas

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watsername · 2 years ago

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oky it’s fucking TIME to talk about mcc misogyny we are NOT dancing around it anymore .

the community fucking hates women . especially the subreddit but also the general community . i can’t talk about every women bc i haven’t watched the pov of every woman in mcc .

tina kitten. her entire mcc experience was being treated as a nerf tool by the community. she only played in a handful of events but her teams routinely credited as some of the lowest ranked teams in the history of mcc in pre-game prospects . they’ve had the LEAST chance at winning and the community commonly rests that blame on tina’s back . is tina a great mcc player? no, she hasn’t had much opportunity to learn from it or practise much. but the constant backlash she faces for being a “bad player” and a “nerf” is demotivating . and after treating her like shit people treat her like shit MORE to tell her she’s overreacting if she is upset or has a problem with anything .

but scar has similar stats . he’s a relatively new player who hasn’t had much chance to learn from the event yet and hasn’t placed top 20. but nobody ever complains about scar being teamed with anyone as a nerf . nobody complains scar is dragging the team down . same goes for people like quackity and karl who don’t regularly place well. nobody complains they’re nerfs or that they’re ruining the teams chances . and evryone is quick to comfort them if they feel bad for ‘letting their team down’

niki nihachu is a similar situation . she’s been playing in the event for well over a year now and is routinely shunned by members of the community for not playing good enough . you can argue ‘she ranks x out of 40 on average’ all you want but does that warrant the way people treat her in her chat and in the subreddit?? does that warrant the immense pressure she feels to improve and the fact that he feels she’s let so many ppl down if she doesn’t?? does it warrant people talking shit talking her and laughing at her for getting emotional due to stress over the event on stream? the fact that she’s so stressed over the event should tell you everything . people has treated her like shit since the beginning for being ‘too emotional’ .

jojosolos. girl. she came into the event as an extremely strong player. she’s placed top ten 6 out of 9 times she’s played (canon and non canon) . for canon events she has 5/6 top ten placements one win and a first individual placement . purpled has 6/7 top ten placements, one team win and one first individual placement . they have extremely similar track records . so why is it that the s tier committee is trying to hard to designate purpled as an s tier but are adamant that jojo doesn’t deserve the same treatment because she’s yet to prove herself as being an s tier player . they have roughly the same stats .

hannahxxrose . she’s faced criticism for her competitiveness over her entire streaming career . to the point where she recently pointed out that people have been calling into question her mental well-being because of her competitive attitude and loudness. some men in the community (specific ones that are hated before the game even starts) are given similar critiques but not once has their mental health been called into question. but the majority of competitive men in the community haven’t been called out on their ‘bad attitudes’, only the ones that specific mcyt communities don’t like to begin with . typically if a man gets loud or starts screaming during the event it’s funny to you . but for a woman she’s taking it too seriously and needs a wellness check .

both jack manifold and karacorvus have an average placement of 26 . kara has one win and jack has lost every dodgebolt he’s been part of . but kara faces harsher criticism bc she doesn’t have the same following as jack manifold so she doesn’t have ppl who will defend her as being a good addition to the team for something other than her ability . bc ppl will defend jacks bad placement because :o !!!! he’s playing with his friends!!!! despite having the same ability as the women that are routinely shit on .

my point is that you can say what you want about certain mcc players . you’re not gonna like everyone . but the double standards between male and female mcc competitors is very much real and a problem in the fanbase. more people are fans of the male streamers and i get that’s why you want them to succeed. but to overlook the flaws you degrade female plaster for in the creators you admire is to have an internal bias against them . if you’re going to have criticisms they’re gonna have ti be for EVERYONE who uses that kind of behaviour . and i think if we see that enforces you’ll realise that a lot of the critiques were bullshit to begin with .

and this can NOT be chalked up to the behaviour of the dsmp community alone . you’re all just as bad, this focuses primarily on dsmp examples bc i watxh primarily dsmp streamers. ALL of this happens on the mcc subreddit .

#mcc

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certifiedbueckethead · 5 months ago

Text

Study Break ✧.*

paige bueckers x college student! reader

warnings: making out, public sex (very much so), fingering, throat fucking,

word count: 1.6k

a/n: honestly one of my shorter ffs but it is what it is lol, also this is just a song rec but it’s also kind of similar to the plot I guess. It’s one of my favs

You stare out of the library’s window, tapping your pen to the table. Summer school just brings another level of boredom, you are dying to go outside and lay in the grass with your friends. It was golden hour, and everything just looked prettier outside. “Y/n, I brought you your iced coffee.”, your best friend Clara had said to you, snapping you out of your daze.

You are both studying for the first session of summer school finals, and have been taking turns bringing each other drinks. Whether it was red bull, coffee, monster or highly caffeinated tea, you both were locking in this entire week. Sure, your digestive systems were suffering the consequences, you just needed to finish off this session strong. You sip your coffee and flip through your digital flashcards when you were interrupted.

“Hey, uh the library is super packed here and you both have an extra two seats at your table, is it chill if we sit here?”, said an extremely tall blonde woman stood in front of you. She was wearing a white crop top and some cargo pants with her iPad in hand, and standing behind her was another girl you didn’t know. They looked familiar but you couldn’t put your finger on it.

“No, yeah of course you can sit, we don’t mind.”, Clara said, because you just were staring up at the girl who had asked you. You couldn’t help it, you felt drawn to her pretty blue eyes. You nod aggressively, now embarrassed at the fact that your friend had to answer for you. “Yeah-, yeah of course, I’m sorry.”, you start, motioning to the empty energy drinks in front of you. “My mind is definitely somewhere else today, sorry about that.”, you continue to defend yourself.

“Nah, you’re good ma don’t worry about it. Thanks.”, is all the blonde says to you. You couldn’t help but to sneak a few glances at her. You felt your phone buzz, and you check it.

**Clara Bear**

are you gonna study for organic chem or are you going to continue to stare at Paige Bueckers?

I get it’s pride month, but its also FINALS?

That’s when you realized, they were basketball players at your school. You internally face palm, Paige must think you’re just another one of her fans. You look up at her, and catch her eyes this time.

“So, girl who keeps looking over at me. What’s your name?”, Paige says, keeping her voice low and pushing her chair closer to you, since you are in the library. “Ah, it’s Y/n.”, you say, avoiding her gaze. “Does Y/n know my name perhaps?”, she says, closing your laptop - trying to get your full attention. “Mhm, it’s Paige, you play basketball don’t you?”, you say back, trying not to seem like a fan. It’s not like you were, you didn’t even know her until Clara texted you, you’ve seen her in ads and stuff at your university but nothing like being her fan.

“So uh, me and Y/n will be back. Study break things.”, Paige says, back to her friend and Clara. Clara gives you a look, one that says “don’t get into any trouble” before blowing you a kiss. You scrunch your face and flip her off, giggling. Your best friend knows you too much.

After following Paige out of the library and onto a hill in the field outside, you are finally able to breathe. The air has gotten crisp since the sun is going down, and you take a picture of the sky to capture the moment. Paige is quiet, also enjoying the fresh air. Before you know it, Paige pulls you onto the ground with her and the two of you roll down the hill together. It was calming almost, to have such a release, you felt all the stress that has built up these past few weeks from school leave your body as you laugh along with Paige. When you reach the bottom of the hill, you were laying in the grass, inches away from her face.

Paige’s blue eyes looked back into yours, before looking down at your lips and back to your eyes. Your breathing shortens, you’ve never even been this close to a girl before. Yes, you know you’re as gay as it comes but doesn’t mean you have had any experience. You spent all your time either studying or with your best friend, too scared to venture into the world of dating more or less kissing pretty girls you’ve just met. But you give in, give into the space between the two of you and your heart is beating out of your chest as Paige connects her lips with yours. The sky is a deep pink and purple colour as the sun sets, and Paige snakes her arm around your waist, under your shirt. You find it difficult to stop, to remove your lips from hers. She pulls away, leaving a string of saliva connecting your lips together still. She doesn’t stop smiling at you and move, straddling her whilst she is still laying down in the grass and kiss her again. Between kisses, you ask, “this okay?”, and Paige reaches up and holds the side of your face, pulling you as close to her as she can.

Before you know it, Paige is holding your hand and dragging you back into the library, but into the top floor, the farthest set of bookshelves from the door. She pushes you against the bookshelf and begins to kiss your neck. Her hand glides under your shirt, against your stomach and soon finds the clasp of your bra and undoes it easily. Like she’s done it a million of times. Her lips don’t leave your collarbones and Paige lifts your up onto the ledge in front of the window. Your back presses against the glass and your legs wrap around her torso, pulling her close into you. From the smell of her perfume and the taste of her sweet sweet lip gloss, you can’t help but take everything in. Paige undoes her ponytail, letting her hair fall down onto her shoulders and looks down at you. “You haven’t had much to say ma, is this alright with you?”, she asks you, gently. You nod, knowing that whatever is about to happen is what you want. Looking up at her, you bring your hand to the back of her neck and she kisses you with as much desperation as you have. She separates you, only for a moment to replace her lips that were against with yours with two of her fingers.

You suck against them, the two long digits she has in your mouth, looking into her eyes. You can’t help but bring your hand down and rub your clit through your shorts. You moan against her fingers and she uses her free hand to move your hand that’s pleasing yourself and brings you down from the ledge to replace it with her knee. She starts to fuck your throat with her fingers and you are impatiently rubbing yourself against her knee. You close your eyes, to take in all the pleasure you are feeling when Paige whispers into your ear, “I’m going to need you to look at me sweetheart.”, and your eyes meet hers and you almost finish at the sight. She is looking at you like you’re worth risking everything to be caught in the library. She holds your waist with her free hand to stop you and you let out a loud whine and you are quick to cover your mouth. You didn’t even know you could make such noises and you start to feel the anxiety of getting caught. But somehow, it was making you even more needy and you didn’t want to stop. Paige slides her two wet fingers into your shorts, pushing aside your underwear and rubbing your clit gently. You don’t even have time to be embarrassed by how soaked your underwear was. You wrap your arms around the back of her neck and rest your head on her shoulder, moaning quietly as she takes her time to please you. “Paige please…”, is all you can say before she slides both fingers into your drenched cunt.

“You’re such a good slut for me, taking two of my fingers ma…. can you take three?”, she asks, her voice quiet enough for just you to hear. You moan in response, but that’s not good enough for Paige. “Use your words, or I will have to stop.”, she tells you.

“Please, I can take one more just put it in please.”, you say, trying your best to be clear and not make any other lewd sounds.

Paige slides a third finger into you and you rock your hips against her hand that’s place on her knee, so you could feel her fingers go deeper into you. Struggling to keep quiet, you suck on Paiges neck and you feel yourself get closer. You pill your lips away from the blondes neck, not mentioning how deep red the pretty bruise you left on her neck were. “Paige please.”, is all you say before giving her a look. “You can finish whenever you’d like sweetheart.”, she tells you and you move your hips faster as Paige shoves her fingers into you deeper and suddenly your gasping out for air as you cum all over her fingers and knee.

You take a few seconds to catch your breath and Paige sucks on her fingers quietly.

“You taste so good, we are definitely going to have to do this again sometime soon please.”, Paige tells you, and you look up at her and before you know it you’re reaching for her chin and kissing her.

“I’d like that.”, is all you say before standing up. You end up going to the bathroom to clean up the mess you made on Paige’s pants though she insisted she could do it herself.

Maybe this could be more than just a study distraction. Maybe she could be something more.

#uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #paige bueckers #paige buckets #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #uconn huskies #Spotify

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desperate-gay · 8 months ago

Note

how bout a heated confession between r and kim little? i really want some kimmy fics 😔😭 my girl needs more love and attention 😔🙏🏻❤

Unexpected Confession

Kim Little x fem!reader

“You, my dear, are one of a kind!” Leah exclaims, grasping onto your shoulders as everyone cheers you on. You smile sheepishly while collecting all of the compliments with a light blush.

Arsenal had just won 4-2 against Chelsea with you scoring two goals back to back at the end of the second half. The whole team basically jumped on you when the final whistle blew, congratulating you while spewing how amazing you were the full ninety minutes.

“Our little miss innocent also showed some of her rough side with that tackle.”

“Katie, stay away from her, we can’t handle you rubbing your card reputation on our goal scorer.” Steph says, shielding you from the Irish woman by wrapping her arms around your front so her taller form blocks your view.

“Well thank you all for the many flattery remarks, but it wasn’t-”

“Y/l/n, a talk?” Kim interrupts, nodding her head toward the empty office.

The team all stand in silence, wondering why their player of the match is getting called away by the captain.

You look at her with a confused look when she announces your last name. The both of you are extremely close and friends outside of games, so when she announces your last name, you’re taken aback.

You quickly follow Kim into the room before she shuts the door with a gentle click and closes the blinds so none of the team can snoop around.

“I told Jonas to bench you for the upcoming game against Manchester.” The midfielder states with a stoic expression and her arms crossed.

“What? Why?”

“That tackle against Reiten was dangerous. Someone could have easily gotten hurt and you need to deal with the consequences.” She explains while avoiding your gaze, not being able to keep her captain facade up if she even takes a peek at your doe eyes.

“That’s so unfair! Russo made a late tackle but she’s not getting benched!” You exclaim, getting irritated at the sudden hostility directed at you.

“Your tackle was dangerous and could’ve cost you an injury. My decision is final.” Kim’s tone warns you it’s the end of the discussion, but you’re too pissed off to give her the satisfaction of an easy win.

As she goes to walk away, you quickly run in front of the door, blocking the older girl from exiting the room. Her eyebrow raises in a silent warning matching the unimpressed look on her face.

“No. You’re not just going to walk out of here without giving me a reason as to why I’m being benched.”

“I’ve already told you-“

“Don’t give me that bullshit excuse that it’s because of my tackle. Yes, it was a little late and that’s my fault but that is no reason not to let me play next week. So tell me the real reason why. Now.”

Kim now raises her eyebrows in surprise at your sudden demanding front. You’re not even sure where it came from because the way the captain is looking at you, you wish you could melt into the floor and never come back, but you simply just gulp and stand up straighter to keep strong.

“Do you really want to be talking to your captain like that?” She questions, cocking her head to the side while slowly walking closer to you, causing you to feel smaller and smaller at the girl's sharp gaze.

“I want the truth.” You say shakily, wiping your clammy hands up and down your tracksuit.

“I gave you the truth, but you can’t deal with it.”

“Why are you lying? Just tell me!” The rise in your voice shocks the other girl, you’re usually always the quiet, calm, and sweet person of the team but not when someone is continually being untruthful towards you.

“You could have gotten injured.” Kim admits halfheartedly, showing you she is still hiding something.

“I am fine. You have no right to take me off the team just because of something that could have happened. If you don’t tell me the real reason now, I am walking out of here and I don��t want you talking to me unless it is an explanation or an apology.”

After a minute or two of silence, you give up. With a scoff and a roll of your eyes, you begin to turn the door handle only to be stopped by an unexpected confession.

“It’s because I love you!”

Your body stays facing the door as you process what the Scottish woman has just said. You run through all the little dates the two of you had together, remembering how you were hoping it would be much more than just friendly, but also thinking that the girl just wasn’t into you like that.

“I should have never said that, it was quite inappropriate. You may leave now.” Kim sighs with one hand on her head and the other waving you off. Slowly, you begin to approach her pacing form.

“Kim.”

“You don’t have to stay. You’re dismissed.”

“Kimmy.”

“Seriously, go home. It was a mistake and I didn’t mean it.”

“I love you too.” You whisper, locking eyes with her when her head snaps up.

“You love me?” She asks in disbelief, making you smile at how quickly the older girl turns quiet.

You take a few steps forward so you’re now face to face with her. You hesitantly wrap your arms around her as your thumb smooths out the tension between her eyes.

“I do. And I’m hoping that your confession was real because if it isn’t, you will see a hole shaped me through that wall.” You joke, causing the both of you to giggle softly, breaking a little of the tension. The taller girl’s hands find a comfortable place on your hips while she continues to look at you with a smile.

“It was real. I have been in love with you for a while now and I wasn’t sure how to tell you. I guess being a jerk wasn’t the best way.” You laugh with a small shake of your head.

“No, it wasn’t, but you can make it up to me.” Your head tilts, looking at her with a bright smile. Once she starts to lean in, you do too, meeting her halfway just before she stops.

“May I?”

“You may.”

With the whisper of confirmation, Kim softly connects her lips to yours in a gentle kiss, showing you how much it means and what it means. Only ten seconds in, she goes to pull away, but you wrap your hands behind her neck and pull her back in.

“Too short.” You mumble against her slightly chapped lips, leaving her chuckling at your eagerness and pushing you closer to her by the small of your back.

Before things got too heated, you both decided to pull away even if you didn’t want to. Although the kiss ended, each other’s arms stayed hugging around the other, enjoying the closeness.

“Will you let me take you on a date, let’s say this Saturday night?”

“I don’t know, I’m supposed to go out with this one girl who constantly takes me out on non-romantic dates because she’s sure we’re just friends.” You sigh in fake disappointment, letting the midfielder roll her eyes at your antics.

You gasp when she slams her lips into yours in a quick but fierce kiss before pulling back with a satisfied look.

“Let me make it romantic.” Kim offers with a charming smile, wooing you fully into saying yes even if you don’t need convincing.

“I’d be an idiot to say no.”

After a few minutes of little kisses, giggles, and talking, the both of you go to open the door only to be met with multiple falling bodies. A sheepish Kyra, Katie, and Beth look up from the floor with guilty smiles while the rest of the team turn back around and continue in their cubbies like they also weren’t eavesdropping.

“Everyone get dressed and leave unless you want to come in extra early tomorrow for some extra laps.” Kim announces with her captain expression, making everybody scramble.

The Scottish woman watches with a stone-cold expression before turning to look at you with a soft smile. She leans over and places a lingering kiss on your cheek.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

#kim little x reader #kim little #steph catley #katie mccabe #kyra cooney cross #leah williamson #beth mead #arsenal wfc #arsenal #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fic #woso

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anakinstwinklebunny · 1 month ago

Note

Clayton beresford x Female hockey player headcanons? Please and thank you!

CLAYTON BERESFORD X F!HOCKEY PLAYER HEADCANONS ⛸️

TW: at some point it contains sexual content, so if you're sensitive to that or don't feel comfortable with it, please do not read it for your own safety and comfort. THIS IS AWFULLY SHORT FOR SOMEONE LIKE ME

Author's note: I was never really interested in hockey so it was new to make. Although I hope I got everything, and if I made a mistake, please accept my dearest apologies. Also I got A LOT Clayton requests and wow..you guys are the best

Clayton Beresford who spotted you at the hockey game;

Clayton never imagined he'd find himself at a hockey game, let alone a women’s hockey match. His close friend had practically dragged him along, insisting he come to support his girlfriend, who played for the local team. Clayton agreed, more out of loyalty to his friend than any real interest in the sport.

The game was intense, fast-paced, and full of energy—much more exciting than Clayton had expected. But it wasn’t the speed of the players or the roar of the crowd that caught his attention; it was you. First, he caught a glimpse of your eyes.. somehow..and he felt something he for the long time had not felt at all. A fluttering feeling escaped through his body, unlocking the almost forgotten cell to butterflies that made him feel nervous with a deep hint of excitement

Gosh, he was there before and it didn't end well. He promised himself to stay away from women...yet he couldn't help this. He felt powerless to the feeling. His jaw tightened

He was a damn CEO, Clayton Beresford..yet he couldn't control his feelings..

"Nice game, huh?" His friend broke him out of his thoughts with a gathering pack of his cigarettes to the woman's disgust at their left

"Sir, you can not smoke in here" she said as the man hold back an eye roll

Clayton Beresford who the same night was introduced to you by his friend;

After the game, Clayton couldn’t shake the image of you from his mind. As fate would have it, his friend introduced him to the team after the game. When it was your turn to shake his hand, Clayton was momentarily lost for words. Up close, you were even more impressive—strong, yet approachable, with a warmth in your eyes that contrasted with the fierce competitor he’d seen on the ice.

“You played an incredible game,” he finally managed to say, surprised by how genuinely he meant it. Although he made sure to tear his gaze away from you and quickly scann all the girls from your team, so it would look like he's talking about them all

“Thank you” you replied with a smile, feeling a weird fluttering in your chest

Gosh, you were there before..he's just a random man that happened to just squeeze your hand a bit too long and have this extremely handsome fa-- no, you promised yourself to never look at another man after things with Luca..you can't just fall for any other guy that just wanted to congratulate your team..you're better than that, y/n

Clayton Beresford who over the next few weeks, found excuses to attend more games. Each time, he stayed a little longer after the match, hoping for a chance to talk to you. And each time, you found yourself looking forward to seeing him again. There was something about him—his quiet confidence, his genuine interest in you as a person, not just as an athlete—that drew you in. Your conversations started simple, about the game or mutual friends, but soon they became more personal. Clayton was different from the usual crowd you attracted—more thoughtful, more introspective. He wasn’t intimidated by your success or your passion for hockey. Instead, he admired it, and that admiration slowly turned into something deeper.

Clayton Beresford who invited you to dinner (aka date) after months of relationship (just because he wasn't sure to trust you after an experience with Sam)

Clayton Beresford who after months of dating asked you to move to his penthouse

Clayton Beresford who was your number one, biggest fan. Always tried to appear at your every game and if he couldn't, which was very rare, he watched it on his computer during his work

Clayton Beresford who learned to love hockey, not just because of you, but because he saw how much it meant to you. And you, in turn, found yourself drawn into his world, supporting his endeavors with the same passion he showed for your career.

Clayton Beresford whose gentle, nurturing nature was the perfect counterbalance to your fiery determination on ice. He admired your determination and strength, while you appreciated his thoughtfulness and stability.

Clayton Beresford who had with you a special game-day ritual. Before every match, Clayton (sometimes..but often) made love to you in hotel room..just a quick stress reveal session;

Clay's lips devour yours, hungrily returning the passionate kiss as he presses you against the wall, his hands wandering your body possessively "you're gonna play good for me, right baby?"

"mhm--wanna make you proud"

Clay's lips trail down your throat, leaving a trail of fiery kisses, when he murmurs against your skin "I will be, I promise... just give me everything you've got...but I'm already the proudest I could be" his tone breathless

You grabbed his curls, pulling on them slightly as he thrusted into your tight entrance in and out

He groaned so sinfully after deepened kiss, his hands gripping your hips as he thrusts deeper, hitting that sweet spot "you'll make me so proud, baby. my perfect little athlete..."

His words did not help with overtaking feeling you felt that made you almost surrender to it to the point your eyes closed

his hips snapping against yours with a fierce intensity "open your eyes, baby... I want to see those pretty eyes when you come undone for me..."

"its--its hard--"

He smirks against your lips, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he reaches around and grabs your ass, pulling you closer to him "i know..but look at me, baby... I need to see those pretty eyes"

he lets out a low groan as he feels you give in to him, his hips never stopped moving as he continues driving into you "yes, baby-fuck, just like that...ya can feel how close you're making me feel, hm?"

just as you were about to speak, clay covers your mouth with his hand, his thumb pressing against your plump, almost swollen lower lip "shhh, baby...save it for when I tell you to scream."

Clayton Beresford who, after particularly tough games, takes charge of your recovery at home. He’ll run a hot bath, prepare a meal, and make sure you get a massage to ease your muscles.

Clayton Beresford who is your emotional anchor when things get intense or when the pressure gets too much

Clayton Beresford who often works out with you (mostly in the mornings). Whether it’s hitting the gym or going for runs. Although not always he wants to, his more of a guy who could sleep all day and waking up around 6am only to exercise is..not really pleasing for him

Clayton Beresford who has accepted this part of your life where you love the cold and winter sports. For him it wasn't so shocking (although he prefers more warm weather). But still, you two often go on winter getaways to ski resorts, where you spend time skiing, snowboarding, and enjoying cozy evenings by the fireplace.

Clayton Beresford who's there for you during recovery (when you're injured and etc). He's really helping you to stay positive during this time and ensuring you have everything you need

Clayton Beresford who often took you out for small (or bigger) dates in your both free schedule

Clayton Beresford who absolutely loved to tease you about most of the things

Clayton Beresford who often searched comfort in your presence

Clayton Beresford who once surprised you with custom-made hockey gear. He collaborated with a designer to create equipment that was not only high-quality but also personalized with little details that meant something to both of you—like your initials intertwined with his, or a small symbol representing your relationship engraved on the inside.

Clayton Beresford who has a special tradition for celebrating your victories. After every big win, he takes you to your favorite spot in the city—whether it’s a cozy café, a scenic overlook, or a hidden gem of a restaurant—where you can relax and bask in the glow of your success together. And if your team lose, he tries to keep you positive, not overthink it much and focus on what's important.

Clayton Beresford who is a soft dom (obviously) however he loves watching you ride him. Struggling sometimes to accommodate his thick member in your tight core

Clayton Beresford who you visit on random days at his workplace out of boredom

Clayton Beresford who proudly wears the jersey with your number during games

Clayton Beresford who often got irritated at paparazzi that usually follow you two when you're in public, as people that just want to spend time with each other outside the shared walls

Clayton Beresford who saw you create a memory box filled with mementos from relationship with him—ticket stubs from your first game, photos, small gifts you’ve given each other, and even a few of those pre-game pep talk notes.

Clayton Beresford who's really on making expensive vacation in only high-quality places

Clayton Beresford who bought you expensive gifts

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @erosmutt @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @fuckmyskywalker

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shakespeareanwannabe · 2 months ago

Text

As You Wish, Epilogue

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister (but biological relation is never discussed), reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, references to babies, swearing, extreme happiness and sappiness, talk of babies, talk of pregnancy, talk of PPD

Seresin Family Ranch, Clifton, Texas, Twenty-Two Months Later

The pictures from the day would be displayed on walls, tucked into photo albums and pulled out to coo over for years to come, and a few would even manage to make it into a country living lifestyle magazine. There were the typical shots, of course. The bride and bridesmaids getting ready, the best man and groomsmen standing around while drinking with the groom, the ivory lace dress hanging against the lilac walls of the home office that had been deemed Team Bride Headquarters. Reminiscers would talk about how sweet the groom’s surprise mimosa brunch was, and some would sniffle over the handwritten love letter that the bride had given the groom to read on the morning of their wedding, preserved so carefully between the plastic protective pages in the photo album.

What the photos wouldn’t be able to tell them, however, was just how excited and nervous the bride was on the morning of her wedding.

The day had dawned more perfectly than anyone could have predicted. The birds were chirping, the Sun was quickly warming the ranch landscape, and the men in the field outside her window were giggling like schoolgirls as they played a round of Dogfight Football, shirts versus skins. The two foam footballs were flying back and forth, and the old aviators were showing Javy’s high school football players how they played football in the Navy. Those boys had been recruited to put up the tents, set up the chairs, and decorate the new barn with all the décor that had been so painstakingly chosen, but Buttercup couldn’t bring herself to be mad about the delay. They were all having fun, they had several hours to put up the décor before guests began arriving, and, more importantly, Jake Seresin was looking particularly good in the morning light. She could see his muscles rippling under his sun kissed skin as he pretended the football in his hands was a grenade, pulling the ‘pin’ with his teeth and tossing it over his shoulder, sending Javy, Bradley, and Mickey to the ground with the force of the ‘explosion’.

“Ugh…” Natasha muttered, appearing at her side to stare down at the impromptu football game from Buttercup’s office window. “Remind me why they get to be outside playing football and we have to be up here, getting poked and prodded?”

Buttercup giggled and let her curtain fall back into place. “Hey, Jake offered you a spot on Team Groom. Don’t blame me for choosing Team Bridesmaid instead.”

Natasha scoffed. “Like I would choose that dickhead over you.”

Buttercup rolled her eyes and turned from the window, her eyes catching on the clock that hung above her desk. They were two hours from showtime, and she felt her nerves catch in her throat before sinking to reside low in her belly.

“Watch your language, Nat.” Buttercup’s voice was soft, but with a biting edge that spoke to her anxiety.

“Seriously?” Natasha rolled her eyes.

“Oui,” Genevieve quipped, standing from the hair and makeup artist’s chair and sweeping towards them, looking like she had stepped out of the pages of Vogue. “I will not have my son picking up such nasty language.” Gen stooped to gaze down at six-month-old Mathieu, asleep in his Pack N Play.

“I hate to break it to you, girl, but your son has been hanging around ranchers, football players, and aviators since birth. If his first word isn’t a curse, I owe Mickey twenty bucks.” Natasha’s infectious laugh had a smile pulling at Genevieve’s stern frown.

“Non,” she replied with a loving look down at her son. “He will be soft-spoken. Like his father.”

Natasha’s voice dropped to a comedic whisper as she leaned towards Buttercup. “Has she even met Bob?”

This time, Genevieve couldn’t help her laugh. “Yes, I have met my husband, now stop distracting me. We have to get the bride dressed for her big day now.”

Natasha nodded, suddenly completely focused on her role as Maid of Honour. “Get over here, Buttercup. Let’s get you into this thing.”

Buttercup nodded and sighed before shrugging off her silk ivory robe, willing herself to relax as Genevieve and Natasha helped cinch her into the lacy ivory A-line dress. She looked…different. She felt different. Life on the ranch had changed her. She had loved her life in London, and she always looked forward to that quarterly week-long visit, but she hadn’t realized just how much it had taken out of her until she was looking at her old life from afar. The rainy weather, the big city, being asked to write and edit in a cramped office…it hadn’t been for her. She had made it work because she had needed the change, but she didn’t miss it. No, the Texan sun, the small-town living, the freedom to work and write from home made her feel more like herself than she had in years. And the man she woke up to every morning played a huge part in that.

She and Jake had started out living in separate rooms, but it hadn’t lasted long, especially since they often found themselves sneaking into each others’ rooms for some quality, private, adult time. But even when they were in separate rooms, she would wake up to find he had left a bouquet of flowers outside her door, or her favourite breakfast prepared in the kitchen. In turn, she left him little notes to find throughout the day. A scrap of paper in his Stetson that told him how much she loved him, a blue sticky note asking him out on a date stuck to his computer screen, a folded piece of paper under his pillow detailing how much she ached for him. Their marriage councillor helped them work through any remaining issues and communicate in a healthy way when they fell back into old patterns. Their family therapist helped the girls work through how they felt about everything, ensuring that they wouldn’t get their hopes too high in case things fell apart again. And they didn’t. Every day, their relationship grew and strengthened into something that couldn’t be shaken.

Six weeks after moving to Texas, Buttercup moved into Jake’s bedroom. Six months after moving into his bedroom, they dropped their marriage counselling to once every three months. Three months after that, Jake took her out to the gazebo, ate chicken parmesan with her under the stars, got down on one knee, and asked her to marry him. She had agreed through her tears, and they celebrated with 3 a.m. grilled cheese and a bottle of beer. And now, after almost a year of planning, she was about to become Mrs. Seresin again.

The ivory gown flowed around her feet as Geneveive expertly began lacing up the corset-style back and Buttercup held back her tears as best she could. She felt beautiful, worthy of standing next to Jake at the altar.

The door to the office opened and Abby and Charlie strolled in wearing their peach-coloured junior bridesmaid dresses.

“Oh my god…”

“Mum…”

Buttercup smiled tearfully at her teenage daughters. “Do you like it?” The girls had unfortunately missed out on wedding dress shopping because they had been at school while Natasha accompanied Buttercup back to London for a joint shopping/work trip.

“You look so beautiful,” Charlie sniffled, treading softly into the room to stand next to her mother.

“Like a fairy tale princess,” Abby tacked on, cuddling into her mother’s side and being careful not to smear her makeup on the light fabric.

Buttercup hugged both her girls close and smiled at them in the mirror. “I love you both so much.”

“We love you too, mom,” they chorused as a flash went off and Maryanne smiled at them from the doorway, lowering her phone.

The slightly older woman was already dressed in her rose-pink coloured bridesmaid dress and had been put in charge of wrangling the boys until the ceremony.

“Okay,” she clapped her hands. “Reuben has successfully trapped all the groomsmen in the cabin to get dressed. Javy’s football team have set out all the décor, Penny and Amelia are double and triple checking everything to make sure it’s just right, and the photographer is with the boys to get some candid shots. The officiant is here, the caterers are all set up, and the bartender is just arranging all their gear. DJ is in the barn and guests should start arriving in the next hour or so.”

Buttercup sighed in relief. “Maryanne, I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“Don’t worry, honey,” she smiled as she took a seat on the plush couch on the corner. “We’re all here for you.”

As Buttercup gazed around the room, she felt a rush of love wash over her. This was her family. She had both her daughters in her arms. Natasha was as close to a sister as she had ever had. She felt so blessed to have Genevieve as her sister-in-law, and Mathieu was the sweetest nephew she could have ever asked for. Maryanne had been her rock through the whole wedding planning process, and Buttercup was more thankful than ever that both Mickey and Reuben had been able to be home for the wedding. The whole Daggers Squad had been able to make it out to the wedding, and Buttercup knew that, within the hour, the ranch would be swarming with people from Clifton, friends from London, acquaintances from the book world, and Navy personnel.

Buttercup sniffled as she smiled at the women in her life. “I love you all.”

Nat squeezed her shoulder and grinned. “We love you too. Now let’s go get you married. Again.”

Jake gazed around the crowded barn as friends and family from around the globe ate and drank and danced, and he felt at peace. It was a strange feeling, especially when he was surrounded by people, but it only spoke to how much he had changed since he had first been called to Top Gun. Back then, he had been all about himself, screw anyone and anything that got in his way of being the best of the best. But he had changed. Falling in love, being a dad, getting divorced, and working his way back into his Buttercup’s life had altered him on a fundamental level.

Speaking of, his beautiful bride was sitting next to him, leaning against him while nursing a tall glass of bubbly as their friends tore up the dance floor.

“Have I told you today just how beautiful you are?” he murmured, leaning in to nuzzle her ear.

“Maybe not in words,” Buttercup grinned up at him. “But your tears while I was walking down the aisle definitely got the message across.”

With a low chuckle, Jake reached around and gave her thigh a quick pinch through the lace of her dress. “Brat…” He rubbed the spot, soothing the sore as he kissed her cheek. “You’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”

“Much better than the first time, right?” she giggled, placing her glass down to curl further into his side.

“I don’t know…” he teased. “I really liked that white sundress you wore in Vegas.” His smile grew as she scoffed and whacked him lightly on the chest. “But you deserved the big white wedding, and I’m really glad we were able to pull this together for you.”

“For us,” she corrected. “After everything we went through, we deserve a big celebration.”

“Mmm, agreed.” Jake nuzzled against her lips and kissed her softly, slowly. The crowd and the chatter and the music faded into the background as something inside of Jake settled. He felt lucky, so very lucky, to have her back in his life, and he would do whatever it took to keep her for the rest of his life. “I love you, Buttercup.”

“I love you too, Hangman.”

“Alright, you two, break it up.” Javy’s voice broke them apart and Jake rolled his eyes.

“Excellent timing, Coyote, as per usual.”

“Fuck off, man,” his Best Man chuckled. “You’re the one who put me in charge of making sure that y’all stayed on schedule. And it’s time for the bouquet toss. The DJ is gonna announce it at the end of this song, so I wanted to give you a heads up.”

“Shoot,” Buttercup sprang up and smoothed her dress. “Okay. Are you ready?” Javy nodded and she smiled so brightly at him that Jake melted. “Let me go get the other bouquet and I’ll get ready.” She bent down to kiss Jake softly before scurrying off to get the duplicate bouquet that she would be throwing.

“How you feeling, man?” Javy clapped Jake on the shoulder as they watched her go.

“Like the luckiest son of a bitch alive, Javy,” Jake returned the gesture as he stood. “What about you? You ready?”

“I’ve been ready, man,” Javy laughed. “I just hope it works out okay. Because if it doesn’t…” Javy flinched. “Shit man, that would suck for both of us.”

Jake laughed as his green eyes watched his wife trek to the middle of the dance floor. “It really would, man. But we’re not going to think like that. Thinking gets you killed, remember?”

Javy laughed and nodded. “It really does.”

“Alright, everyone, if I could get all the unmarried ladies onto the dance floor, please! It’s time for the bouquet toss!” the DJ called over the crowd, and the men dispersed while the ladies formed a loose ball behind Buttercup. All the ladies except Abby and Charlie, who ran over to the sweetheart table to hug their father.

“Hi honey.” He pressed a kiss to Abby’s perfectly styled hair. “Hey you punk.” He repeated the action on Charlie’s hair, still perfect but differently styled.

“Hi dad.”

“Hey old man.”

Jake rolled his eyes and hip checked Charlie. Some things would never change, and he loved that about his relationship with his daughters. Charlie would always be his little punk, always giving him a hard time and sassing him. Abby, on the other hand, was sweeter and more likely to curl up next to him to watch a movie. They were so different, and he considered himself to be blessed for getting to watch them grow up the last 22 months.

“You ready, Uncle Javy?”

“Born ready, girlies.”

Javy slowly walked to the edge of the dance floor as Buttercup pretended to throw the bouquet once…twice…before turning and handing it to Natasha, who looked like a deer in the headlights.

Buttercup hugged her friend tightly as she leaned in to whisper, “Just don’t break up with him this time, okay?”

Natasha’s face was the picture of confusion as Buttercup backed away to join her family at the sweetheart table…until she spotted Javy walking towards her purposefully.

“Don’t worry, Phoenix,” he murmured, a nervous smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I asked permission to do this at their wedding.”

“To do what?” she sniffled and hated herself for it. Natasha Trace did not cry.

“To do this…” Javy pulled out the green velvet box and knelt on one knee. “Natasha Trace, you are the biggest pain in my ass. You show me up in everything, you’re smarter than me, and, yeah, you were a better flyer than me. But all that makes me do is want to be better for you. I made a boneheaded mistake 13 years ago, and I have spent the past two years or so trying to make up for it. But I can’t wait any more. So, Phoenix, will you do me the honour of marrying me and putting up with my sorry ass for the rest of my life?”

Natasha couldn’t fight the tears as she nodded. “Yeah, you pain in the ass. I think I will.”

The crowd roared and cheered as Javy slipped the engagement ring onto Natasha’s finger. Charlie and Abby bolted away from their parents to congratulate their aunt and uncle while Rooster grabbed a few flutes of champagne from the bar and handed them to his friends.

Jake chuckled and picked up their own flutes, passing one to Buttercup before wrapping his free hand around her waist from behind and nuzzling into her neck.

“Did we make the right choice?” he asked.

“Oh yeah…” Buttercup sighed and leaned into him. “We put them through Hell. The least we could do is give him permission to propose at our second wedding.”

“Definitely makes it more memorable than the first,” he chuckled, watching Rooster, Bob, Mickey and Reuben hoist Javy up into the air. “No more shotgun weddings for us.”

Buttercup hummed, pressing her pink-painted lips to the rim of her glass. “That depends on your definition of shotgun wedding.”

Jake blinked. “What do you mean?”

Buttercup blinked back at him, joy and worry warring in her eyes. “Well, one definition is a last-minute wedding, one with minimal planning.”

Jake’s brow furrowed. “Yeah, that’s what I meant. I don’t care what kind of wedding they want; they’re not having an Elvis impersonator marry them in a Vegas wedding chapel. They deserve better. We deserved better too, but hey, at least you can drink this time.” When Buttercup didn’t speak, he felt worry begin to gnaw at his stomach. “Buttercup?”

With a sigh that rocked her body, she placed her glass down and turned towards him. “The second definition is when a couple gets married because the girl is pregnant. And…and I actually can’t drink this time.”

Jake blinked once…then twice. “But…you’re drinking right now?”

Buttercup shrugged shyly. “It’s sparkling grape juice. Unfermented. Non-alcoholic.”

Jake blinked again. “Does that mean…are you…are we…?”

Buttercup ran her hands over the lapels of his suit jacket. “I know we didn’t plan for this…but we haven’t exactly been careful either. And-and I know that you’re probably really worried that I’m going to relapse or something, but I’ve been talking to my therapist, and she recommended someone who specializes in PPD, so I booked myself an appointment and she’s going to help me make sure it doesn’t happen again. Or, if it does happen again, that I’ll have strategies in place to make sure it doesn’t get too bad and—”

Jake pressed a firm kiss to her lips, holding her tight and close as she melted against him. “Buttercup…” His voice was ragged from their kiss, but it held so much love and hope that she felt herself fall even further in love with him. “Are we having another baby?”

She sniffled and smiled at him. “Yeah. In about 8 months, we’ll have another baby Seresin running around the ranch.”

His smile was so bright that it was infectious, and Buttercup couldn’t stop herself from kissing him again.

“I love you so much, darlin’,” he murmured against her lips.

“I love you too.” Buttercup giggled as she wiped her lipstick from his mouth.

Turning towards the dance floor, she saw their family weaving their way towards them. Bob had his arm around his wife, looking down at his son like he held all the answers to every question. Rooster was being towed along by Charlie and Abby, who had him by the hands as they dragged him away from the bar and towards the sweetheart table. Javy and Natasha were strolled behind them, looking so in love that it was almost sickening.

“Buttercup? Can we not tell them yet?” Jake wrapped his arms around her from behind and cuddled her close. “I kind of want this to be our little secret for just a little longer.”

Buttercup smoothed her hands over his arms, folded so tenderly, so protectively over her abdomen, and could think of only one thing to say. “As you wish, honey. As you wish.”

A/N: And that concludes As You Wish, a strange little Parent Trap x Top Gun Maverick AU with a stupid amount of The Princess Bride references. I just wanted to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for sticking with me through this fic. It's been my passion project for almost a year, and you all got me through it. Thank you for every comment, DM, reblog, and like. It means so much to me that you liked this story as much as I loved writing it. Much love to all of you! (Now someone cue up Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield so we can all jam out at Buttercup and Hangman's second wedding!)

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