#sports jacket for cold weather

[angelinalifestyle]

5 Benefits of Wearing Sports Jackets for Outdoor Winter Training

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[nicka-nell]

How they act when they have a crush on you

Pairing: Kita x, Osamu x, Tsukishima x, Akaashi x, Semi x reader

Warning: fluff, mdni

Part 1 | Part 2 (end)

The man, who is always quite serious and shows little emotion on the outside, subtly softens. 

Kita maintains his direct manner and is no different towards you than he is towards his friends at first. That’s why nobody noticed that he had feelings for you. It even took him a long time to realize it. But gradually he starts to open up a little and shows you unexpected kindness. 

His usually serious look is a little softer towards you from time to time. Nothing that would be noticeable to someone who only sees him occasionally, but his teammates notice this subtle change in his facial features when he talks to you. 

Nevertheless, he remains direct, sometimes not realizing whether his words are perhaps a little too direct, but he never means any harm. 

“Osamu, Atsumu, before you continue arguing here, take off your street shoes. We’re in the sports hall and you have to wear clean shoes. You should know that by now.” Kita says with a serious expression as he stands next to the entrance door and looks at the twins. They flinch at his voice and quickly slip out of their shoes. Just a few seconds later, your voice echoes through the gym as you gasp and look in Suna’s direction. “Suna, you left your notebook in the classroom,” you say, waving it around in the air as you take another step into the gym. Atsumu and Osamu already look at you with a grimace, shaking their heads as if to tell you not to take another step into the hall, but you don’t see them because Kita stands in front of you and takes the exercise book from you. “Thank you for bringing this over. I’ll give the notebook to Suna. You can’t come in here with street shoes. The floor could get scratched by the dirt underneath them.” Kita’s voice is still serious, but it has a gentle undertone and Atsumu feels like he must have hit his head, because it almost looks like Kita is smiling at you.  You sigh as you walk out of the school building and see that the sky is darker. It has started to rain. Somewhat awkwardly, you take off your jacket and hold it over your head, hoping not to get wet. However, the fabric of your jacket is so thin that it won’t work anyway. Yet a large shadow looms over you as the rain stops beating down on your jacket. Confused, you look up and see an umbrella before looking to the side and spotting Kita next to you. He looks up at the sky, down at you before he starts to move. “Rain was forecast for today. You should check your weather app or the news more often. Or... you could always carry one of those umbrellas in your bag. They’re not heavy and it’s better to have an umbrella with you to be on the safe side than to get sick. Don’t you agree?” He lectures you. But he doesn’t mean it in a bad way. He’s actually just trying to make you understand that he doesn’t want you to catch a cold. “Come on, don’t stay out in the rain. Your apartment is on my way home. I can drop you off at home.”

Because you don’t realize that Kita has feelings for you, it’s Kita himself who confesses his feelings to you at some point. 

Although his confession wasn’t particularly romantic or private. 

Suna had asked after training if you had anything to hold against Kita because he behaves differently towards you. Much softer. You didn’t quite understand the question, just like Kita, who turns to Suna and simply says, “That’s because I have feelings for her that are on a different level than those I have for normal friends.” 

Osamu differs from his brother. Unlike him, he is a quiet observer at first, and a denier to others. Whenever his friends try to tease him, he says that he has no feelings for a girl. (Acting like little boys who think that girls are disgusting and if you touch them, you get sick.)

But he knows your daily routine. Knows exactly where to find you so he can “accidentally” bump into you. Shares his lunch with you during your break, or goes to the sports hall with you and gossips a bit about his brother. 

But when he’s alone with you, he always tries to stay calm, giving you little crumbs of his feelings towards you, hoping you’ll get the signals. 

“So, ya didn’t have time to pack yer lunch again today, or do ya like the canteen food here so much?” asks Osamu, who sits down with Suna at the table where you are eating with a few friends. You look up at him, move a little to the side on the bench and make room for him to sit next to you. “The food is... okay,” you say, less convincingly as you look at Osamu’s bento box. At the delicious little nigiri, the egg roll and the chopped vegetables. Almost indifferently, Osamu pushes the bento box in your direction and takes a piece of the egg roll. “I’m not that hungry... if ya wanna, ya can eat with me,” he says, watching you smile sheepishly. ‘Yes,’ he thinks, but then you shake your head. “I can’t snatch your food. You have your training today. You need strength!” you answer him as Suna seizes the opportunity and holds out his chopsticks to grab something from Osamu’s bento box. But Osamu pushes his hand away. “Hands off, that’s my food,” he mumbles quietly so that only Suna can hear him, who raises his eyebrow.  You walk with Osamu to the gym, his pace slower as he matches your speed. You are alone, his hands are casually clasped behind his head, his gaze directed forward. “Man, Tsumu drank my shake again today and then he denied it even though the shake was sticking to the corner of his mouth. Idiot.” Osamu curses. His words make you laugh. Osamu always grumbles so much about his brother, but you can tell that they have a strong bond. A typical love-hate relationship that you have with siblings. “Oh, come on, it would be boring without him, wouldn’t it?” you reply, amused. “Boring? It would be nice to have a boring day at home for once. But ya know, it would be even nicer if I just had a different roommate. I bet it would be much more relaxed and cooler to share a room with ya.” he tries to say as calmly as possible, but notices how his heartbeat suddenly speeds up. “Osamu!” you giggle, playfully slapping him on the shoulder before his tension disappears, and he chuckles at you for a split second. 

His confession also seems rather calm, even though he is probably extremely nervous inside. 

He uses an opportunity where you are both alone, where you are in a good mood and you are having a joking conversation, when he asks you “Would ya rather date my dumb brother or me?”. 

Somewhat surprised by the question, you answer just as casually, “You, of course, you dummy”, not realizing that the question wasn’t meant as a joke. 

“So, am I to assume we’re dating now?” he grins, watching you stare at him like a fool. 

Oh, he is definitely a tease. You could call him Tease-ishima. 

But he doesn’t do it in quite such a childish way by throwing paper balls at the back of your head. He makes light-hearted jokes or playful jabs or hides compliments with teasing comments. 

Sometimes he tries to tease you to the point where you get into little playful arguments with him where he enjoys the back-and-forth between your exchanges. 

However, he also doesn’t realize that he might overstep or hurt you with his comments. If he notices this, he doesn’t try to apologize, but calmly asks why you are still so upset, although inwardly he hopes that you don’t take his remarks too much to heart. 

“Oh, are you trying to impress someone with that dress you’re wearing today? Who would have thought that would suit you?” says Tsukishima asked as he arrogantly tilts his head to the side and grins at you. “Imagine, I didn’t put this on to please you, but thank you, I know I look good myself...” you reply sassy and raise an eyebrow. Tsukishima purses his lips, almost as if he’s pouting, and clicks his tongue. “Whatever. I have to go now anyway. Unlike you, I have better things to do with my time than just standing in the school hallway for minutes,” he says, walking past you.  A little hurt by Tsukishima’s stupid comment about your new hairstyle, you sit on a half-height stone wall in the schoolyard and wait for your friends to come out of the building so you can go home. “Hey weakling, are you still offended about earlier?” asks Tsukishima, coming out of the front door of the school, his hands in his pockets. He stands next to you indifferently, glancing at you briefly before staring ahead into the distance. “You just don’t realize it when you offend people. Sometimes people don’t need your stupid remarks,” you reply, swinging your legs back and forth. You try not to look at him. “You always take everything too seriously too quickly,” says Tsukishima indifferently, but then he struggles with his words. As if he doesn’t know how to continue. Almost uncomfortably, he takes his hand out of his trouser pocket and scratches the back of his neck. “A shaved head would suit you too. Usually nothing disfigures good-looking people.” But before you can even process what he’s just said, Yamaguchi arrives and Tsukishima raises his hand in farewell with a neutral “See you around then.” 

Tsukishima is stubborn. Would he tell you that he’s in love with you? He’d probably wait until you said it. 

However, it could also happen that the key words just slip out in a brief argument with you. “Like what? I’m just being myself. Have you ever thought about the fact that there are people who express their affection in such a way?” he hisses before he even notices what he said to you. “Nevermind. It’s not that important,” he adds quickly, but it’s probably too late to back out now. 

Akaashi is a silent listener and subtle helper. 

He wouldn’t tease you, but he wouldn’t behave particularly differently towards you either. Even more so, he wouldn’t try to impress you. He would just be himself. 

He listens to you when you talk and is one of the few who maintains long eye contact and really focuses on the conversation. If he notices that you are having difficulties with something, he tries to help you. Whether it’s when you’re studying for a subject or because you can’t reach the items on the top shelf. 

Last week you were complaining to Bokuto that you have an exam this week and that you’re a bit scared. Although you’ve studied a lot and memorized the topic well, you’re still nervous because it’s an important exam. You’re sitting nervously on the bench during the break, going over the material for the exam bit by bit, when a small drinking packet suddenly blocks your view of your exercise book. You look up, a little puzzled, and see Akaashi holding the drinking packet in front of your nose while looking at you with a thin smile. “You shouldn’t look at your notebook now. Otherwise you’ll have a blackout during the exam. Have a drink and try to relax. You’ll be fine,” says Akaashi objectively, who overheard the conversation you had with Bokuto last week.  Today at volleyball training, the coach of the boys’ team wants the boys to play a 3-on-3 game and asks you to get the colored coats for the boys to wear over their jerseys so that you can clearly see who is on which team. In the storeroom, you look for the box with the yellow and green overcoats when you see that it is at the top of the shelf. Standing on your tiptoes, you try to reach it in vain. Pouting, you press your hands to your hips before placing one foot on the wobbly shelf, jumping up and touching the box with your fingertips. But you lose your balance as your back crashes against Akaashi’s chest, his arm wraps around your waist to catch you. “Careful. You should have asked for help. You could have hurt yourself,” he says in a neutral tone before reaching for the box and taking it down to hand it over. “Next time, please inform me. I don’t want you to hurt yourself. Especially not because of such a small thing that could easily have been avoided,” he adds, making sure the box is firmly in your hands before leaving the room with you. 

Although Akaashi often says what he thinks, he is still a rather quiet person. Since his focus is currently on his graduation, he doesn’t think about telling you about his feelings. Quite apart from that, he assumes that you don’t have feelings for him anyway. 

However, his feelings came out by accident when Bokuto introduced you as Akaashi’s girlfriend during a training match. It was only a joke, but Akaashi’s ears turned red and, uncharacteristically for him, he was suddenly very embarrassed. 

After the training match, you went outside to Akaashi, who wanted to cool off, and asked him directly about his feelings. 

Semi may seem stern and distant to many, but that’s only the first impression. He’s actually a really nice guy, at least to his friends. He’s also nice to you. 

He’s a real social butterfly who indirectly tries to get close to you by talking to your friends, getting along with them, and going to the same parties you go to.

He recently spent an hour talking to your friend, who he doesn’t even like very much. But you sat next to him for the entire hour, nudged him slightly when he made one or two comments. But it was worth putting up with your friend’s talking because he could be near you for the time. 

He often tries to involve you in activities where he can get closer to you.

You’re chatting with your friends about the party that’s taking place at the weekend when you hear Semi’s voice behind you and a short time later, his elbow lightly nudges your arm. “Hi guys, are you planning something cool?” he asks the people he’s made friends with. The girl holding the party nods sheepishly and immediately asks if Semi wants to come as well. He puts on a charming smile before looking at you and shoving his hands in his trouser pockets. “You’re coming too, aren’t you? We could go together,” he says and waits for your answer, which you give him with a sly nod. At the party, he talks to lots of people, but always stays close to you, gets you drinks and asks you if you want to dance with him casually. On the dance floor, he doesn’t even give anyone the chance to dance with you as he swings you from left to right, pulls you towards him and enjoys being close to you. He finds it all the better that you seem to enjoy it.  As the winter tournament is coming up soon, the Shiratorizawa volleyball team is currently training a lot. Since you get along well with many of the boys, you are also there to support them by bringing them water or towels when they need them. The coach doesn’t mind your presence as long as you don’t disturb the active training. He doesn’t care what happens during the breaks. The boys currently have a ten-minute break when Semi waves you over. “You said the other day that you think the serve is amazing. Do you want to try it? I’ll help you,” he smiles and hands you the volleyball and gets behind you to show you how to position yourself and how to move your hands. “Am I doing this right?” you ask, turning to Semi, who is standing quite close behind you. “Yes, it looks good. But take your hand a little further up. The ball should be above your hips,” Semi says in a soft tone as his one hand stays on your hip, the other moves to your hand that holds the ball before lifting it slightly. “There, that’s better.” His words echo smoothly in your ears. A physical contact that is actually harmless, but makes his heart beat a little faster. It’s just a shame that ten minutes are over so quickly. 

Semi wants to be one hundred percent sure that you feel the same way about him as he does about you. That’s why he wouldn’t immediately overwhelm you with his feelings. 

At least that’s what he thought. 

Once, when you were struggling with your words after training, just to tell him that your friend had asked if you could give her Semi’s number, he had looked at you in total frustration and clicked his tongue. “Ehh? Do you really think I’m doing all this, the hanging out with your friends, the parties, the closeness to you, because I want something from your friend? Hell, I listened to her talk about the pigment in lipsticks for an hour because you were next to me and I wanted to be close to you. Not her…” 

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

You want my jacket?

John Egan X W.A.C! Reader

Summary: Y/n wants Bucky's jacket, but they have a little competition before...

Warning: Swearing/ sport inaccuracies (Wikipedia stats)/ use of Y/n/ flirting/ mention of erection/ kiss/ sexism (little bit)

Word count: 1.1k

The music was loud, Y/n and her friends made their way through the room, it was a party in their honor, and someone’s 25th mission. The W.A.C division Y/n was in just got transferred to Thorpe Abbotts. Y/n was a weather broadcaster, she was going to brief the men on the conditions they were going to fly. She liked her job, sure it was boring sometimes, but she got the insight on big mission and her job was important. She felt like she was truly having an impact on the war, not a big one, but still.

When John Egan learned that W.A.C were coming on the base, he was like every man on the base; excited. Unlike Buck, he didn’t have anyone to write to at home, he was single and loved woman! When his eyes stopped on Y/n, he knew that he needed to talk to her. Her uniform fitted her so good; her curves were highlighted, and he always loved woman with curves. So, when he walked up to her, he was a little nervous, but he tried to hide it.

‘’Hello ladies’’ he said, looking at all the woman, then he looked at the one he wanted. ‘’Hi, I’m Major John Egan, but please call me Bucky, what’s your name, gorgeous?’’ he flirted. Y/n blushed and hid a giggle. ‘’I’m Y/n, nice to meet you’’ she extends her hand for him to take. The other girls were a giggling mess. When Bucky took her hand, she felt something pass through them, maybe she was just nervous, but it felt weird. They went to sit at a table and Bucky ordered drinks. ‘’So, Y/n, what are you doing here?’’ he asked, looking at her. ‘’I’m the new weather broadcaster, so we’re going to see each other a lot’’ she flirted. Words of his reputation had got to Y/n’s ears, when the Colonel briefed them on the attitude of the men at the base, the woman were warned about Major Egan. Y/n was curious to see if his reputation was true. ‘’You’ll be Miss Sunshine?’’ he asked, with a grin on his face. ‘’Exactly, but with this English weather, I’ll be Miss Cloud, Rain and Fog’’ she joked. He laughed at her joke, he always thought English weather was shit. ‘’Maybe your presence will bring more sun over the base’’ he took a sip of his drink. Y/n tilted her head, before taking a sip of her drink.

‘’I highly doubt that, but hey I’ll probably die of cold, you on the other hand, you’re going to be okay with that beautiful jacket’’ she smiled. He looked at his jacket, then looked at her. ‘’You like my jacket?’’ he asked, with a crooked eyebrow. She nodded as she finished her drink. ‘’Yeah, they didn’t give us any jacket, they didn’t have the money for us’’ she chuckles. A wicked idea came to her mind, she was a fan of baseball, so was he… ‘’Okay, what about a quiz, on the subject of your choice, if I win, I get your jacket, if you win, what do you want if you win?’’ she says. ‘’I want a kiss’’ he grins. ‘’Then if you win, you’ll get your kiss. You in?’’ she asked. He nodded and called Curt, he was a fan of baseball and knew the Yankees. ‘’I’m on, and by the way, I hope your baseball knowledge is good, you know the Yankees, sunshine?’’ he teased. He was 100% sure he was going to win; nobody knew baseball as good as him, but that’s what he thought. Y/n was grinning like a devil, she was getting that jacket!

‘’Ok, last question since you’re both equal in points, Spud Chandler broke the record for what this season?’’ Curt asked. Y/n thought for a second and then took the apple, it was their buzzer. ‘’Y/n?’’ the room went silent; money was changing hands around the bar. Their little competition was the main entertainement right now, soldiers couldn’t believe that someone knew baseball better than Bucky. ‘’ Lowest earned run average in a season’’ she said, smiling. Curt pushed his tongue on his cheek before looking at other guys. ‘’That’s right, you officially win!’’ He exclaimed, making the woman and some guy’s cheer for her. Bucky’s jaw was on the floor, that woman knew baseball, was supporting the Yankees and she just beat him. Now he had to give her his jacket! Bucky looked at the woman, she was smiling proudly. He smiled as he shook his head. He went closer to her. ‘’Let’s get out of here, sunshine’’ he said, she nodded, and they went outside.

‘’How come you know that much about baseball?’’ he asked. They started to walk around the base. ‘’Weather girl wasn’t my original plan, I wanted to be a sport reporter, but because I’m a woman, it’s impossible, but I know a lot about sports’’ she explained. He thought he was dreaming; this woman was surreal. ‘’That was really impressive, even though you beat me, it was amazing’’ he said, he truly meant it, he was in awe before her. ‘’Thank you, but I think you owe me something’’ she grins. Bucky rolls his eyes before taking his precious jacket off. ‘’Take care of it’’ he said, before giving it to her. ‘’Can you help me put it on?’’ she asked. Her back was facing him, he helped her put the jacket on, smelling her perfume properly for the first time. She smelled good, too good, it was going to be stuck in his mind now. Seeing her in his jacket kina turned him on, he didn’t know why, but it was a problem. ‘’Thank you, Major’’ she smiled proudly. ‘’I wish I could say it's my pleasure, but that would be a lie’’ he said, laughing to hide his pain. Y/n giggled as they continued their walk.

‘’That’s me, I have to go to bed early. I’m waking up at 0500 tomorrow I have to do my job’’ she smiles. Bucky nods quickly, expecting her to walk to her building, but she stays in front of him. ‘’Since we were equal, it’s only fair that you get your part of the bet’’ she says. Before he could process what she meant she quickly kiss him on the lips. By the time he acknowledges what just happened, she’s already at the door. ‘’Good night, Bucky, thanks for the jacket’’ she says, his name sounding like a prayer on her lips. ‘’Good night sunshine’’ he said. She blew him a kiss before entering the building, with his jacket on her. Yep, his problem was definitely growing more…

[229zmi]

MY HEART, IT BEATS FOR YOU

Nagi Seishirō/Reader | 1.0k words, fluff, jealous nagi

Nagi, generally, is an apathetic person.

Yet somehow, there’s a taut feeling that twists its way through the gaps of his ribcage, stretching around his heart as his eyes linger on the fabric that hangs around your shoulders. Seeing you on the couch, casually scrolling on your phone while wearing a jacket he can’t recognise as yours or, even better, his as much as he wants to — the sight elicits something that’s not quite a painful feeling, but it isn’t exactly pleasant either, he thinks.

The wheels are still turning in his head when you finally acknowledge his presence with a smile, oblivious to the way he’s not even looking at you when you tell him, “Hey, Sei.”

Instead, he trudges over to you with the same passion as that of a sloth, and his voice comes out small, almost as if that same feeling in his chest has crawled past his shoulder to constrict his throat.

“That jacket— it’s not yours, is it?” It’s plain and simple, the way he states the observation, yet laced with the most marginal hint of spite.

“No, it’s Reo’s,” you confirm without missing a beat, and he narrows his eyes, so subtly that you don’t even catch it. You continue on about how you bumped into Reo by pure coincidence on your way to run an errand and how the weather’s been so volatile lately, oscillating between warm and sunny one day and freezing cold during the next. But Nagi—

Well—

Here’s the thing: as impassive as he is most of the time, Nagi is a great listener when it comes to you.

You’ve always been a priority to him and even more so in that facet. To relish in the fleeting moments of winning a game on his phone, or to know what happens in the latest chapter of his favourite manga as soon as possible — the rush of satisfaction he gets out of those is nice, he supposes, but not worth missing a word of what you say, be it something miscellaneous about your day or the biggest news he’s ever heard in his life.

And certainly, nothing is worth missing the small habits that make themselves known in your conversation, that make up the you he first swore love to near the bench outside the convenience store, holding your favourite snack in one hand and offering his jacket to you with his other because the harshness of springtime winds had swept away any warmth your flimsy sweater could contain.

It’s your facial expressions, your gestures, the way you look toward him at the end of each rambling, as if to ask, Are you listening? So then, he’ll answer— a nod, as if to say, Yes. Of course. Please say more. Because for you, it’s all ears and eyes wide open on his end.

But Nagi, admittedly, isn’t perfect, and this is not a matter of opinion. Even you can see the way he can’t stop staring hard at your jacket as though he’s trying to telepathically morph it into something that looks like it came from his closet instead.

Midway through an elaborate plan to sell the jacket for an outrageously high price on some sketchy website (you’re only half-joking… maybe), you finally notice his distant expression. “…Sei?”

His lack of response is all the confirmation you need for your suspicions. A grin then crosses your face, while your eyes sport a gleam that Nagi recognises as smugness once he eventually tears his focus away from the offending item of clothing.

You say his name again, this time teasingly. Then, “Are you jeal—?”

Your question cuts off unceremoniously when his hands reach over to latch onto the zipper of the jacket, pulling it down before tugging on the fabric near your shoulders. Despite the boldness of his actions, you don’t make any move to stop him as he flings Reo’s jacket across the room, hearing it land on the floor with a satisfying sound.

Moments later, he shrugs his jacket off in one smooth motion and then drapes it over your body. With his large palms smoothing over the fabric against your upper arms, it’s such a sweet gesture that you can’t find it in yourself to complain, although the opportunity to poke fun at him is hard to let slip.

“Woah, there.” Cheekily, you brush that one abnormally long part of his bangs away from his face and poke the tip of his nose, to which he responds with his signature pout before burying his face into the crook of your neck. As your back hits the cushion of the arm rest behind you and your hands come up to comb through his hair, you feel a bout of warmth surge through your collarbone area, accompanied by the sound of his voice muffled by your skin.

“I’m not jealous.”

A smile dances around the corners of your mouth despite your efforts to conceal it. “Really?” you say. “I think you are.”

“Nuh-uh,” he grumbles. “You can’t prove it.”

“I mean. You’re kinda all over me right now.”

He huffs at the flurry of giggles that tumble from your mouth boundlessly, like clothes spilling out of an overpacked suitcase. Though, when your laughter finally simmers down and humour seems to have come to a standstill in your conversation, sentimentality weaves its way into your voice, in between mixed undertones of reassurance and leftover amusement.

(Because what you’re about to say is nothing but the truth itself: ardent and vulnerable, despite the sheer casualness in the way you present it.)

“You’re the only one my heart beats for, Seishirō.”

Lazily, he peers up at you. “Promise?”

“I promise. Besides,” you add, snuggling deeper into the collar of his jacket, “your jacket’s way warmer, anyway.”

That could be attributed to the fact that he has practically become your personal heater by sprawling his body over yours on the couch. Nevertheless, the envious fangs surrounding Nagi’s heart slacken, and with your fingers brushing through his hair once again, he can’t help himself from murmuring into your skin, sounding more relieved than he has ever sounded, “Good.”

[saltycharacters]

[ID: Digital Mob Psycho 100 art. The 1st is of Hanazawa Teruki, wearing a pale shirt with yellow squiggle patterns, a multi-colored bowtie, multi-colored pants and purple sneakers with star shoelaces. He has an owl themed cross-body purse and a casual disposition against a pastel, star-sprinkled background. Next, Kageyama Ritsu and Suzuki Shou are depicted as older teens, posing against a dark background. Ritsu is wearing a leather jacket and green tshirt, while Shou sports a dark tshirt with an abstract logo and checkered sneakers. They have matching utensil earrings, Ritsu's left ear having spoon and Shou's right having a fork. Next is Serizawa Katsuya and Kurata Tome waving while dressed for cold weather, Serizawa bundled in the outfit he wore in the Hotspring OVA while Tome wears her getup from Season 3, episode 8. The final image is a comic referencing recent official MP100 artwork (from June 13, 2024), with all the characters still wearing their new outfits. Reigen, facing away from everyone with a cocked hip and smirk, declares, "I have never been less straight", while Ritsu and Mob look at the photo taken of the four. Ritsu questions, "Why am I here", with Mob responding, "Mom needs new photos for Christmas cards", and Ritsu counters, "It's June". Serizawa and Dimple, on the far right, stand awkwardly while Serizawa asks, "Ok but why am I here", with Dimple responding, "Because if your boyfriend doesn't get to see you in gay little outfits he'll have a conniption and die". End ID]

Morb Cycle 100 my beloved

(Last drawing is in reference to ->this<- official art)

-----

Don't forget, help Palestine:

-> arab.org <- Click once a day for free

-> gazaesims.com <- Instructs how to donate esims

-> gazafunds.com <- Randomly selects a fundraiser for you to support

-> Fundraiser spreadsheet <- Lists Gazan fundraisers

-> Operation Olive Branch Spreadsheet <- Lists other ways to support

-> Resource link google doc <- Has tons of information and links

[lucyandalexiafan]

I’m scared | Alexia Putellas x reader | part 1

Summary: after yet another attempt to pretend to want to have sex with Alexia, the blonde tries to understand why you don't tell her that you don't want to have sex with her and why you are so scared every time she touches you.

Warnings: angst. This work is talking about past sexual abuses (not in a detailed way, but to explain why reader doesn’t want to have sex with ale), so if it’s trigger don’t read, please. Fluff in the end (?).

Words: 3k

I tried to write with “you” to refer to reader, i don’t know if I did it in the right way but I wanted to try to write in this way; as usually, if something is wrong, say it and I’ll correct.

I’m really emotive involved in this work, so pls be kind and respectful 🫶🏻

This is part one of this ask: ask

You and Alexia are walking.

The weather is perfect: clear sky, the sun that warms despite the winter cold.

The dirt road without potholes.

There is no one but you two.

The pace of the walk is slow.

Calm.

There's no hurry.

Barcelona is on your right, veiled in the January fog.

You're walking her favorite trail, but Alexia hasn't explained to you why she asked you to take this walk on a Sunday after lunch.

The blonde had asked you if you would like to go with her to a Barça under 11 girls' match where she was supposed to be present, and then eat at the sports center; at the end of it all, while you were in the car, she asked you to take that walk.

You nodded, smiling, even though an unfamiliar feeling was invading your body.

She had been weird since this morning.

Cold.

Thoughtful.

You bite your lip while you kick some pebbles.

You tried to make conversation a couple of times and she always ended any dialogue in its tracks.

She has her hands stuffed into the pockets of her blue jacket.

Her hair loose.

Her forehead is decorated, every now and then, with wrinkles.

Her lips closed in a line.

She looks older today.

More tired.

Today there is no trace of the woman who looks five years younger.

Is it your fault?

Did you do something?

She runs a hand through her hair and tucks a tuft behind her ear.

Her posture is rigid.

She smiled less today.

She sought less contact than usual.

She is weird.

She swallows her saliva in an attempt to ward off that anxiety.

You are also relatively distant on a physical level.

She opens her mouth a couple of times to speak.

And, when she doesn't say anything, she pretends it's to sigh.

Should you ask her?

Speak?

But she cut off every attempt to do it before.

Maybe she's sad, or something happened and she just wants to stay quiet. After all, many times you have been quiet, at her house or while walking around Barcelona, and she says that she likes it.

That she feels comfortable with you in silence.

But she looks so uncomfortable today.

She takes a deep breath.

“I have to ask you something,” she announces.

You look at her.

She is serious.

No smile.

Her lips are a flat line.

She doesn't turn to look for you, her eyes fixed on the road.

You invite her to continue.

You scratch your forearm nervously.

What's taking her so long?

What should she ask?

What did she do?

What have you done?

“But I would like you to be honest”

You nod.

What happened?

Why all this preamble?

Usually, it's you who does it, who makes a thousand assumptions.

“Why do you pretend to want to have sex when you don't want to have it?”

You stop, frozen.

The hand that was scratching the forearm is still, the nails still in contact with the skin.

She closes her eyes.

Her voice is neutral.

But is she mad?

Disappointed?

She turns to look at you.

Your head is bowed, your position is arched, your shoulders forward.

She stands straight, rigid.

"You did it last night too - she sighs - Last night too you tried to pretend and I think it's the fifth or sixth time in the last month"

You swallow the saliva.

“I want to understand why you don't tell me that you don't want to have sex - she stops for a moment - It's not a problem if you don't want to, but you have to tell me, do you understand me?”

You nod uncertainly.

How did she understand it?

What can you tell her?

From her voice, she sounds more worried than mad.

She closes her eyes.

It's true what she said.

During the last month, you have pretended to want to have sex several times.

Then, each time, she interrupted the attempt.

She laid next to you.

She kissed you.

She rested her arm on your hip or belly.

And she closed her eyes.

You clench your jaw.

"I…"

“Look at me, please”

Is it urgency?

It doesn't sound like a reproach, an order.

But more of a request.

You would like to deny it, to say that it's not true.

Say that she's lying.

But what's the point of it?

She understood it.

She understood that there is something.

And if she's talking about it, for how long had she thought about it?

Does it make sense to deny it?

Lie?

Telling lies to cover up something so obvious?

“I… I… - you sigh - I'm scared”

You whisper.

Your voice weak, maybe overwhelmed by the breeze.

Your cheeks burn with humiliation, shame.

"About what? What are you afraid of?"

Did she really not understand or does she want you to say it?

She always understands everything about you.

It's like you're predictable with her, it doesn't matter if you've been dating for more or less four months, camps and games aside, she always understands.

Does she have any ideas?

Maybe she hopes this isn't what it is.

Maybe she wants an excuse to dump you.

“That you… that you do it even if I don't want to”

She asks you what it means.

What does she think of you now?

What does she think of this unhealthy fear?

You point your gaze at the panorama.

You stare at a flock of birds.

They move haphazardly, as your thoughts.

“I almost got raped by my ex-boyfriend - you close your eyes - He gaslighted me… he said it was my fault if we didn't have sex, that if I hadn't had it I would never have felt ready, that I was ungrateful because he also thought to my pleasure"

You sigh.

You put your hand on your eyes.

You wrinkle them.

You are trembling.

What will she think of you now?

What will she think of you after she finds out?

“One night I had to sleep at his house and… he tried to penetrate me several times - a sob escape from your lips - He said that I had to stay still, that nothing would happen”

You never talk about it.

Never.

To nobody.

Three or four people know.

You are so ashamed of yourself.

You know that it was not your fault, that you don't have to feel that guilt, but you can't do other than feel it.

It happened years ago but it is as fresh in your mind.

“He also did it two nights later, when I was forced to stay at his house because I was quite ill and unable to come back home with my bike”

All you need is one wrong touch and you remember him.

You remember that moment.

That scene.

You relive it endlessly.

Relive that fear.

That terror.

That rejection.

That trying not to think of the worst.

That cry when, months later, you understood that what had happened wasn't normal.

“I… I risked losing my virginity through rape”

A whisper.

A faint, insecure phrase interrupted by panting.

The trembling voice.

“He did so much gaslighting that he ended up dumping me because we weren't having sex and telling me it was my fault – you swallow your saliva – But before dumping me he tried several times to do it, to penetrate me”

You sigh a couple of times.

She is silent.

You don't dare look at her.

You don't want to see the look on her face.

You bite your lip.

“I... I know you won't do it, really - you sigh - But subconsciously I'm afraid that you'll break up with me if we don't do it and I try to convince myself that it's what I want”

You mess up your hair.

You pull the sleeves of your shirt up and down several times, nervously.

“I'm afraid you'll get bored of me if we don't do this or that-”

You close your eyes.

Will she hate you if you say it?

What will she think?

Will she scream?

Will she hit you?

Will she insult you?

Or maybe she will go away.

She will return to the car with the idea of returning home without you and never seeing you again.

She doesn't speak.

Why doesn't she speak?

“Subconsciously I'm afraid that you... that you'll do it anyway - you sigh, your voice broken by the crying that threatens to start - that you'll fuck me anyway, so I try to convince myself that I want it. So... so if-if you do it maybe-maybe I'll live it better"

The tears that flow.

If she dumped you, you would understand.

On the one hand, you don't satisfy her.

You are full of trauma.

You can't even have sex when she wants.

On the other hand, you defined her as a possible rapist.

Cruel, that you think only of yourself.

“I know you wouldn't do it, really - you add urgently, the fear that she will interrupt you - But subconsciously I'm afraid of it”

You hug yourself.

As to protect yourself.

As if to ward off any sort of reaction.

"Why did not you tell me?"

Is it sadness?

Penalty?

Compassion?

You shake your head.

“What did I have to tell you? - the sarcastic tone - That I'm subconsciously afraid that you're a rapist because the first one I did something with almost raped me? That for everything I have one trauma that might annoy you?”

You clench your jaw.

You laugh sardonically.

“Romantic as a conversation to have after a few months of dating”

There is a pause.

You don't look at her.

Why doesn't she scream?

Why doesn't she hit you?

Why doesn't she react?

“Have I ever done anything when you were pretending?”

You shake your head nervously.

Quickly.

"No. Never - you giggle nervously - You always understood somehow”

“But we almost had sex that night. I touched you"

You nod. “I wanted it, that evening”

She sighs.

Her eyes stained with pity, with compassion.

"Why did not you tell me? - you don't answer - Little one, I would never get mad if you didn't want to have sex with me"

She's not sincere.

It is not true.

She's lying.

How can she not get mad?

“It's just that every time I want to have sex you seem to want it and I try, and then sometimes in you change... I feel you change - she shakes her head - I would never do anything to you that you don't want, little one, but you have to tell me”

Why can't you believe she's sincere?

You have too many problems.

Too much anxiety.

Too many traumas.

Why can't you trust her?

“I'm scared,” you whisper.

You're really afraid that the woman you're falling in love with will rape you.

That will abuse you.

To convince you that it's your fault.

That you wanted it.

Would you really be able to walk away, to escape, if she did that?

“It's true that you stopped those times, but if I told you in the meantime, how would you take it? - you shake your head, tears falling to the ground - I'm afraid that you will hurt me like everyone else has always done"

She doesn't say a word.

You sob.

You gasp.

“I know you wouldn't do it, really... but I'm afraid that you would hit me or yell at me or that I would disappoint you - you sniff - I don't want this relationship to end because I only have traumas and I only cause problems”

“Baby, I will never hurt you because you don't want to have sex, ever”

You shake your head.

The tears falling to the ground.

The chest is invaded by contractions.

“I know, really… but when we're there I have an irrational fear that you will - you wipe your eyes - I know it doesn't make sense, but it's as if that fear comes over me”

She doesn't come close.

She doesn't move.

She is still.

You look at her.

The wrinkles on the forehead are more noticeable.

The mouth is a thin line.

Did you disappoint her?

Is she exhausted by you?

“It's like those times I can't control myself”

The tears that run relentlessly down your cheeks.

You open and close your eyes several times waiting for them to go away, let them disappear.

Admitting it, it hurts.

It burns the chest and inflames the sense of guilt.

Saying it out loud is a stab.

“Have you told anyone about this? A psychologist”

You shake your head quickly.

“No, never… I… in the end, it's just how I saw it, you know?"

You feel so humiliated.

Stupid.

Pathetic.

“And then he hasn't completely done it, so it doesn't make sense that I feel so bad. In the end... in the end, it's nothing, it's me who exaggerates"

“Baby, he almost raped you - you lament at the word - Amor it's not a normal thing, it's not a small thing. Don't deny what he did or try to justify it."

You shake your head.

“I'm not saying it is, but that... it's not serious enough”

“Baby yesterday you got scared when I touched your hip while I was kissing you - you look at her suddenly - You reflexively moved exactly like at the beginning when you were scared I would hit you”

You close your eyes.

“And it's not the reflex you have when you get scared because you don't hear me entering in the kitchen while you're cooking, it was fear. I saw that light of fear in your eyes for a few moments"

“I… please, sorry”

The nausea that invades your body.

You feel so guilty.

So wrong.

So stupid.

Why can't you enjoy something?

Did she feel guilty because of you?

Did you make her suffer?

Did you hurt her?

“Baby, don't apologize, please - she sighs, as she tries to get closer - It's not your fault”

Take a step back.

“But it is! - you almost scream - I'm the one who can't have sex with you, you're not him!”

Your chest rises and falls quickly.

You gasp.

You're out of breath.

You hate screaming.

To lose control.

But you don't like talking about the topic and you're afraid that she will use your words to leave, to look for someone better than you.

“Little one, this is a trauma independent of the person in front of you”

There is silence.

You do not answer.

What should you say?

You are standing still, a few steps away.

“I… I understand if you want to leave me - you hesitate - If… if I'm too full of problems, if you want someone easier…”

You leave the sentence halfway.

You hope she completes it.

But she doesn't.

She doesn't say anything.

She doesn't say a word.

“Amor, it's not a problem if you don't feel like having sex with me, either when you're scared or normally, really - you look at her - But you have to tell me because only then can I understand and not hurt you”

The tears that continue to flow from your eyes.

“Baby, I don't want to break up with you, least of all for this reason. I just want to understand."

She moves closer to you.

You lower your head, shrug your shoulders.

Does she want to hit you?

Does she want to hurt you?

The truth is, you wouldn't stop her.

You wouldn't stop her from hitting you.

After all, why shouldn't she?

“Seriously baby, I don't want to break up with you or hurt you… I just wanted to understand - she sighs - So we can act consequently, so I can help you”

How long did she think about it?

How much time did you steal from her?

You drag your hands down your pants.

Why is she so nice to you?

Why is she so normal?

So emotive available?

She hugs you.

You rest your head on her shoulder, you close your eyes.

You breathe her scent.

“I'm sorry… I'm sorry” you say it over and over again.

Her hand runs down your back in a steady motion.

Relaxing.

Consolatory.

“I'm sorry,” you sob.

“Why don't we do something? - she asks you when she moves away from your body - Next time you will take the initiative - "

“No, no please no” you whisper interrupting her, looking at her scared.

Eyes more open than usual.

The vision blurred with tears.

“Baby, I don't want to force you, I want you to understand that I don't want to hurt you, that I can wait”

“But I know!” You interrupt her urgently.

With fear.

“Baby I want it to come from you, I want you to understand that we don't have to have sex every time we see each other. It's normal not to want it if you don't feel ready for it, if we do other things than sex"

You look down.

“It's really normal baby - she pauses - It's normal not to want to have sex when you don't feel like it”

“But… but what if you and I… what if after doing it I don't want to do it for a while, I don't feel ready for it?”

“Baby it's normal, it happens to everyone - she stops, places her hand under your chin, applying pressure to be looked at - Even more so in this situation”

Is she sincere?

Do you seriously think so?

“I'm just afraid that you won't want me anymore”

“Baby, I'm in love with you for the person you are, not for the sex”

You look at her.

Her eyes are wide.

Is she in love with you?

She smiles embarrassed.

Shy.

She is - is she really...

In love.

You smile through your tears.

You look at her in disbelief.

Did she really say that?

She has that sly smile on her face, that smile that she made you fall in love with.

She won't hurt you.

At least her, her won't hurt you.

[ugotcooneycrossed]

have i told you lately, im grateful youre mine • alessia russo

w/c: ~900

alessia doesn't like anyone as much as she likes you- or, how mean girl less is really just a big softie

a/n: i dont really love this but its done so

------------------------------------------------------------

the skies are overcast- the cold wind hitting your cheeks and nose- no matter how hard you try to cover them in your scarf.

it’s raining- small droplets fall down and splatter on the ground, and on your clothes- well alessia’s clothes, but really it’s basically yours anyway.

it feels just like home really.

you had no reason to make the move to america- unfortunately gifted with the burden of two left feet, and asthma so bad your breathing could rival that of a pug, a sport scholarship was out of the question. thankfully your skills in books landed you with endless opportunities, that wouldn’t cause you to fall on your face. you could’ve gone to any uni really- but with an academic scholarship calling, and the promise of much better weather, you couldn’t turn it down.

and it was only ironic that you met alessia when you finally got to UNC- stargirl to the extreme and very- very serious footballer. even thinking about her sport made you breathless- or well, thinking about her playing football with the stupidly attractive captains armband made you breathless.

friday night games are your favourite- all your focus can be diverted to watching your girlfriend play.

and like every other week- your voice is sore from how much you’ve been cheering and screaming for the blonde striker.

they’re winning two – nil, those scored by of course alessia.

and no matter how many games you go to, no matter if they’re here at UNC or somewhere across the world for youth international duties, and no matter how many times she scores. you will always be the loudest one cheering.

you manage to make eye contact with her, beaming at her and sending her a thumbs up-and she smirks back at you, blowing you a kiss. your cold cheeks start to warm and you sit back down when the people around you start to tease you.

everyone and their mothers know who alessia russo’s girlfriend is- she’s quite known for her possessive streak around campus.

there was the time where she poured her drink on someone when they didn’t get the hint, also the time she came to you at half-time at her game to steal your jacket so everyone could see the number on the back of your shirt- then nursing you back to health when you inevitably got sick, and also the time she blew off training and had to run laps- all because she wanted to cuddle.

so, no- she’s not subtle at all.

not that you’d complain of course- her jealousy is very attractive.

by the time the stands clear out- it’s just you left, waiting for your girlfriend to finish her post match routine.

“hey (y/n)!”

you beam at the voice- running down the steps to jump into lotte’s arms for a hug.

“hi! you were so great out there!”

“how do you know- I’m sure lessi was all you could focus on.”

“that’s not true carlotte. i love all you girls equally.”

“hmm well i wasn’t even playing, so i think you’re lying.”

lotte wiggles her eyebrows at you, and your mouth drops I shock- before you rub the back of your neck in embarrassment.

“sorry lotts.”

“just kidding! i really was playing- but you still didn’t notice so ha!”

“go bother someone else’s girlfriend lotte- or, go get your own!”

alessia swings her arm around your shoulder and your hand comes up to hold hers- fingers entwining. alessia presses a kiss to the side of you face and stares at lotte.

“calm down less- i’m just messing around.”

you elbow your girlfriend.

“yeah, yeah. bye now lotte i’ll see you tomorrow.”

you both watch the older girl walk away- and alessia sets off, arm still around your shoulders, bringing you close to her side. you start to stumble over your feet at the awkward angle she’s created.

“less let me go- i can’t walk properly.”

“no.”

-

in the few years alessia’s been here, she’s garnered quite the reputation- a harsh captain with a mean streak, always quick with insults, and never afraid to get into a physical fight.

she’s competitive, and judgemental- and well a mean girl.

but you know better.

you know that she’s a sucker for romantic films- no matter how many times she tells you its stupid, she’ll always end up crying first.

you know that she lets you win- at any game really, ‘miss sore loser’ seems to always forget how to play whenever its against you.

you know that her jealousy is just because she loves you- and despite time, and time again reassuring her that she doesn’t need to be jealous, that you have and always will love just her- she continues to bite the head off just about anyone who so much as looks at you.

you can especially see it in the way she grips your hand tighter, the way her eyes glare at anyone daring to get too close, but mostly- you can tell in the way she refuses to let you go, from whatever party youre at, all the way back to your dorms.

shes a softie really- hanging off you as if you were her lifeline- puckering her lips and begging for kisses.

no one knows her the way you do.

the way you could do absolutely nothing with her and itd still be perfect.  

[animehideout]

JJK Men Perfect First Date

Part 2

Check out part 1 here ✨

a/n: Part 3 will include Aoi Todo / Yuta Okkotsu / Mahito / Ino Takuma 💛

@itz-amani what do you think about Sukuna's first date 🫶🏻??

Divider credit: @cafekitsune 🧡

Itadori Yuuji: Cinema date

Yuuji loves movies, especially horror ones and that would be a reason for both of you to cling onto each other, in case you get scared easily.

But since it's your first date, Yuuji would let you suggest and choose what you'll be watching.

You'd share a large bucket of sweet popcorn and grab your favorite candies. Your hands would touch while grabbing the popcorn, making both of you blush.

Yuuji would definitely sneak extra snacks in case you got hungry during the movie.

You'd settle into your comfy seats and you won't pull up the armrest, fully enjoying the closeness of your bodies.

The atmosphere is so light and full of joy, Itadori is a ball of sunshine, he'd make you laugh a lot by cracking jokes.

During the movie, you'd repeatedly steal glances at each other, sharing smiles and subtle touches.

If there's a romantic scene both of you would feel extremely shy, turning into tomatoes.

You'd be the last ones to leave, you'd stay a bit longer, excitedly discussing your favorite scenes and plot twists.

Shared laugher would continue even after leaving the cinema, he would ask you on a second date for sure.

Would definitely walk you home, and offer you his jacket if the weather got chilly.

Would give you a big hug or a kiss on the cheek as a ' thank you ' , anticipating your shared future adventures.

“That was a great movie, but being here with you made it absolutely perfect”

Ryomen Sukuna: Late night drive

Your first date would be full of adrenaline.

Sukuna would arrive in a sleek sports car to pick you up, the roaring engine hinting at the adventure ahead.

Would open the door for you, to leave a good first impression.

His hand shamelessly would rest on your thigh the whole drive sending shivers down your spine.

The playlist basically consists of The Weeknd songs as they sync with the pulse of the night.

Once you hit the open road, the empty streets are inviting for a burst of speed.

The route includes sharp turns and twists adding to the excitement, your heart would be beating out of your chest but you completely trust that Sukuna would get you to your destination in one piece.

The city lights became blurry from how fast Sukuna was driving, landscapes became a dynamic backdrop as if you were traveling to another dimension.

Eventually Sukuna's, found a quiet spot to let the adrenaline settle.

You'd get out of the car to watch the breathtaking city light from the top of a hill, letting the cold night breeze bring you back to reality.

His arm would wrap around you pulling you closer to his chest to transfer his body heat to yours.

If you get extremely cold, you'd get back inside his car and chill there.

Would definitely make out with you in his car while After Hours- The Weeknd♪ is playing in the background.

“The thrill of the speed is matched only by the thrill of being here with you. It's like the universe conspired for us to have this moment”

Megumi Fushiguro: Library date

As you greet each other, Megumi would give you a single red rose, it would make your heart flutter and add a touch of romance. Who said Megumi can't be romantic?

You'd go to an aesthetic library, first you'd start your date by exploring the aisles together, checking the different genres of book that are filling the shelves.

The hushed atmosphere and the sound of pages turning soothed both of you.

Both of you would recommend different genres depending on your tastes.

After grabbing the books that you'll be reading, you'd find a cosy corner with cushions.

You'd sit there next to a big window, reading and watching as the droplets of rain fell on the glass.

You'd share occasional glances, blushing when you make eye contact, smiling softly.

You'd read your favorite lines to each other, and discuss the hidden meanings behind sentences.

There are silent moments where words aren't needed, just a comfortable silence shared between both of you, happily humming.

Megumi would walk you home, and promise you for a second date to visit another library with a different aesthetic, he would give you a warm hug.

You'd forever keep that rose that Megumi gave you, you'd use it as a bookmark.

Choso Kamo: Cooking together

Nothing is better than staying at home on rainy day, while enjoying home made food, especially with the man you love. ( pretend you and Choso live in the same building so he won't be soaked with rain)

You and Choso would plan a romantic menu for the night and brainstorm what recipes you'd try to cook.

The kitchen became a shared a space of creativity, fresh ingredients spread on the counter.

Before diving into the cooking, you would choose the perfect playlist.

The kitchen fills with your favorite tunes, and your giggles.

If he manages to pluck up the courage he would wrap his arms around you, engulfing you in a warm back hug.

You would take turns while cooking, chopping, stirring and tasting, you would use the same spoon to taste food making you kiss indirectly.

Once you feel comfortable enough, you'd share a lot of backhugs and include a lot of soft sweet touching.

Once your food is ready, you'd decorate the plate with it, taking it to the living room so both of you can eat while watching your comfort shows.

You'd settle on the comfy sofa, covering yourself with a warm blanket as the food is presented infront of you on the table.

He'd tuck strands of your hair behind your ear while you eat.

You'd feed each other, exchanging comforting smiles.

You'd conclude the night with a sweet dessert that Choso made.

He'd end up staying over, both of you cuddling in each other's arm slowly drifting off to sleep, peacefully sleeping in each other's embraces while rain is pouring outside.

“The warmth is this kitchen, mirrors the warmth in my heart when I'm with you”

[beomiracles]

hi serene! happy 500!!!! for your 500 bash i was thinking of street racer beomgyu au omg. i read a fic about it on wattpad but they never completed it i would loveee to see what you come up with ! ^^

500 BASH SPECIAL

#serene adds ✎... oouu this was a fun one! though I've never written anything street racer before so idk how au centric it was...I fear it might be a little less plot and a little more smut...I hope that's still okay ૮꒰•༝ •。꒱ა

wc -> 1.8k

pairings street racer!beomgyu x afab!reader warnings semi-public sex, unprotected + pullout method, oral (f. rec), fingering, tiny bit of overstimulation, praise kink?, beomgyu wants reassurance

The night air was cold enough to have you wrapping your boyfriend’s jacket tighter around your body. It had been such a foolish decision to come out here in nothing but a tank top and a skirt, but it was June, shouldn’t the weather show at least a little mercy? You pull your phone from your bag as you glance at the time, 1:32 am. Jesus christ, you could be in bed right now. But your boyfriend had insisted on you coming to watch him race; and like the loyal and supportive girlfriend you were, you of course said yes. 

In all honesty you didn’t like the idea of Beomgyu racing, in fact you hated it. It was a dangerous, not to mention illegal and unnecessary sport. You were seriously worried that he would end up getting hurt one day; though he always assured you that he wouldn’t because he ‘knew what he was doing’. — You thought that he was just lucky. 

A row of murmurs coming from somewhere beside you garners your attention as you turn toward the end of the vacant street. In the far distance you could make out the headlights of the approaching cars and soon the loud roar of engines filled the quiet night air. Immediately you recognize your boyfriend’s car amongst the crowd, up by the very front, the red vehicle easily maneuvered past its competitors. 

Even though you were strongly against the whole idea of street racing you couldn’t deny the fact that Beomgyu was good, like really good. And you supposed that it was kind of hot the way he blew past the finish line way before the others. When the race was declared done, his car came to life once more, making a screeching noise as it circled back to aim for you. — Stumbling backward you shriek, causing multiple heads to snap in your direction as the red sports car comes to a stop mere inches from your feet. 

Your boyfriend climbs out of the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut behind him as he walks over to your stunned figure. A hand snakes around your waist as he pulls you to his chest, crashing his lips against your own. Your eyes widen as you blink up at him, a hand on his torso pushing him back. “Everyone’s staring”, you whine as you throw an anxious glance over your shoulder to the small crowd who’s attention had shifted entirely to the two of you. 

Beomgyu doesn’t bother even turning his head as he pulls his jacket tighter around you, “so?” he mumbles as he leans in the kiss the corner of your lips, making you shudder as heat rises to your cheeks. — “What’d you think of it?” He wonders as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. You give him a scolding glare as you poke his chest with an accusing finger, “you know what I think of it.” 

Your boyfriend smirks as he rolls his eyes, “yeah, yeah, but what’d you think of me?” You knew that he was eager to prove himself to you, to make you proud, you just wished he understood that he didn’t need to do all that in order to have your full support and love. — Still, you couldn’t help but grin as you trail your fingers across his shoulders. “I think you were amazing”, you say as you lean in to give his cheek a quick peck. 

“Yeah?” He murmurs as the hand on your waist pulls you flush against his chest. “And what else?” — You roll your eyes before pressing kisses to his jaw and neck, “I think you were extremely sexy, especially when you crossed the finish line way before anyone else.” The smirk on your boyfriend’s lips only grows as he basks in your praise. “Mh-hmn, won for you baby”, he sighs as you press a chaste kiss to his lips. “I bet you did”, you whisper. 

“So where’s my reward?” He cocks an eyebrow at you and you shake your head as you press a finger to his lips. “When we come home.” — Beomgyu’s grip on you immediately tightens as he rests his forehead against your own, “why not now?” You frown as you look up at him, “now?” You glance over at the crowd slowly filling out as everyone began making their way home. “I don’t know I-” 

Your words are swallowed by a yelp as Beomgyu’s hands move to the back of your thighs, hoisting you up on the hood of his car. “Beomgyu!” You give his shoulder a push but your boyfriend only smirks as he leans in to kiss your neck, making you forget any protests along the way. — His teeth graze along the exposed skin as he gently nibbles on it, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he pushes himself impossibly closer to you, his hard on brushing against your panties and you shiver. 

The lonesome street was basically vacant at this point, save for the two of you. Eagerly, he yanks your underwear down your thighs and you gasp as the cold air hits you. “Wait”, your nails dig into his shoulder and your boyfriend pulls his head from the crook of your neck as his lustful gaze meets yours. You blink, suddenly feeling flustered under his stare, “I…I didn’t bring a condom I didn’t think we–” 

“Doesn’t matter”, he groans as he reconnects your lips in a messy kiss, his hand coming up to rest on the nape of your neck as he brings your face closer to his. “I need to have you right now”, he grunts as his other hand glides along your inner thigh, fingers dragging across your wet folds, making you squeal against his lips. 

Your moans are devoured by his hungry mouth as he slides two fingers inside your cunt, curling them only to have you clench around him as your thighs tremble. His kisses move from your lips down to your jaw, his hot breath a stark contrast to the cold air surrounding you. “I’ll win for you”, he mumbles against your skin. 

“Y-you already have”, you breathe as your fingers slowly trail toward his hair, twisting a few strands between them. His thumb on your clit coaxes a small cry from you as he shakes his head. “I’ll win all of it. Every single race. I’ll buy you nice things, take you out.” His fingers inside your cunt move faster as he double stimulates you, bringing you dangerously close to an orgasm. 

“F-fuck, Beomgyu I’m…I’m..” you ramble as your thighs squeeze around his hips. — Beomgyu groans as he feels your cunt engulf his fingers, the hand on the back of your neck moving to your chest as he carefully guides you to lay down against the hood of his car, the cool metal making you shudder as he parts your trembling legs even further, spreading you wide for him.

You whine when you feel him withdraw his hand, but mere seconds later it’s replaced by his hot mouth and you gasp. “Need you to cum on my face”, he practically moans as his tongue licks across your wet cunt, flicking over your clit teasingly. Eyes rolling back in euphoria, your arms lay sprawled across the hood of his car as you gaze up against the starry sky. 

A small mewl rips from your throat as you vigorously clench around his tongue, coating his lips in fluids as your orgasm washes over you. Beomgyu groans against your cunt, his hands firmly gripping your thighs as he continues to kiss at your glistening folds to the point of overstimulation. You wail against his touch and your boyfriend reluctantly pulls himself from between your legs to hover above you, a hand placed next to your face to support himself as he quickly undoes his zipper. 

Panting, you gaze up at him with a clouded expression and he smirks, the lower half of his face shiny and wet from making out with your cunt. “You can do one more for me, right baby?” He coos as he slides the tip of his cock against your sensitive pussy, making you gasp as you writhed beneath him. 

With a groan he slid himself inside, his brows knitting together as his mouth fell open. “Fuck you always feel so good”, he murmurs as his head dips down to rest in the crook of your neck, pressing sloppy kisses to your already bruised skin. Unable to form a coherent response, you merely sigh as he thrusts himself further inside, resting his forearms on either side of you. 

Your hands rake across his back, disappointed to feel the material of his racing jacket rather than his bare skin. With each snap of his hips he grunts against your neck. “Tell me that I did good..” he groans as his lips drag across your exposed collarbone. — “Please”, he breathes. 

Cupping his cheeks, you bring his face level with your own as you capture his lips in a kiss. “You did. You always win for me.” You whisper as you brush your tongue against his, making him shudder against you as his pace quickens. — “You always make me so proud to be your girlfriend.” 

Beomgyu sighs against your lips as one of his hands moves down your body, his fingers easily finding your clit as he stimulates it, making you cry out into his mouth. “Fuck I love you”, he groans and you feel the movement of his hips grow jagged. “Please, please, want you to cum on my cock”, he breathes as he jerks up into you, making you gasp.

Nodding, your hands slide down his shoulders to ground yourself as you feel your second orgasm approaching. A small sob passing your lips as you clench around him, making him grunt as he fucks you through your high, his fingers on your clit unwavering as your head falls back against his car. 

A few thrusts later he withdraws with a small hiss, his hand wrapping around his shaft as he strokes himself to his own orgasm. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you quickly regain your breath before leaning forward to push his hand away as your fingers take his place, grinning at the way his breath hitches when you slide your thumb across his tip. 

His hips stutter against your grip as he releases all over your hand, some of it landing on the hood of his car, though he doesn’t seem to care as he quickly pulls you in to crash your lips together. You sigh into the kiss as your arms wrap around his neck. 

“I love you too.”

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[lqfiles]

SCORE THAT GOAL! — 17. under my umbrella

(wc: 1.209)

“and in last place is… (—)! which means she will clean up the equipment today! everyone else can go home now, enjoy your weekend.” your coach exclaimed. everyone else let out a sigh of relief as you threw your head back. you knew you weren’t the best at this sport, but placing last was plainly humiliating. and now you had to pay the price which came in the form of walking around the unnecessarily long field to pick up barely used equipment.

“maybe we need to have a one on one practice to improve your skills.” jeno had joined your side after grabbing his water bottle. while everyone slowly left, it was only you two left occupying the field. “i’ll pass on that offer for now.” you responded back and started walking to the multiple cones that were placed on the field. “alright then, see you next week.” jeno saluted you before exiting the field as well, leaving you all in silence.

practice went alright, despite not shooting a single goal today, you felt like you were starting to get the hang of the sport. you were relieved that you got along with almost everyone and how they were all willing to help you instead of ridiculing you for being so bad at this. at least this was better than sleeping around in art club, you thought. maybe not 100% but definitely some percentage. you were too busy dazing out that you barely felt the few soft drops of rain that had landed the top of you head. only when the droplets started to grow more rapid did you frown, looking at your left hand that held a disc cone, covered in multiple drops of water. “the sun was just out?” you spoke out loud, gazing at the sky that had somehow turned grey in a mere few minutes.

“great” you whispered, quickening the pace at which you were cleaning. you could’ve sworn the weather app said it wouldn’t rain today. you had no time to think too much about it, the rain had started to become a bit more violent by the time you collected everything. you quickly brought the equipment inside before going back out and grabbing the remaining equipment. “holy shit.” you wondered where this rain had even come from. it was barely bearable and you were sure if you stayed for too long you’d catch a cold. so you quickly changed into your dry clothing, hissing when you had no choice but to place your wet clothing in your bag, leaving all your belongings damp.

though you hadn’t expected the rain, you knew to always keep an emergency umbrella on you in these unexpected cases. you walked outside, umbrella in hand, making your way to the bus stop near your college. you looked up to see how far you were from the stop when you spotted an unexpected face. you halted for a second, your heart pace quickening as you immediately recognised it as jisung’s side profile who was sat on the bench at the stop. he wasn’t wearing his sports attire either, instead sporting a black jacket and matching black jeans. knowing you had to no choice but to go over there too, you started walking again.

jisung hadn’t seen you walk up to him yet. not until he decide to look away from his right and had faced his left to continue admiring the outside view. his eyes had landed on you who stared straight ahead of you, body a few meters away and umbrella next to you. jisung gasped and jumped back, not expecting you there. when had you settled next to him? “oh, sorry for scaring you.” you apologised and quickly created more distance between the two of you, not like there wasn’t already a huge gap. “it’s, uh… it’s okay.” he hesitated to respond back, still surprised to see you here. seriously, how long had you sat there for? neither of you talked for a few minutes and tried hard to look everywhere but each other before you had decided to start a conversation again. “hey jisung?”

“yeah?” he answered back, giving you a quick glance instead of facing your way. “do you know when the next bus is coming?” you asked. jisung shrugged, hoping you’d leave it at that. instead you had turned his way, waiting for him to continue speaking. “i don’t..” he mumbled softly and you hummed, accepting his answer. “normally the buses take longer on rainy days..” you started, looking up at the rain that was still pouring. “my guess is probably 20 minutes.” you kissed your teeth at the thought, eyeing your umbrella. “yeah, sucks.” jisung couldn’t tell if you were trying to hold a conversation or not, but he wished this attempt at whatever would end soon so he wouldn’t have to continue giving awkward responses back.

“i’ll just walk then.” you had stood up and grabbed your umbrella before you turned back around to look at him. “do you wanna come? we can walk to that supermarket and go our separate ways from there.” you offered. you had opened your umbrella and stood under the rain, turning to face jisung and waiting for his answer. you had made a good point about the buses taking longer in rainy weathers, and he did need to get home to finish of his sociology homework. the supermarket was also close to his house. the only issue? having to awkwardly stay with you under an umbrella in close proximity for a good 15 minutes.

“i…” jisung was hesitant and you were about to dismiss your offer and start walking off, but he surprised you when he stood up and walked closer to you and your umbrella. “thank you.” he said as he bent himself down to fit under your umbrella, making sure to push himself all the way to the edge, the umbrella barely covering him from the pouring rain. you held the umbrella his way. “you should hold it since you’re taller.” you advised and jisung complied, quickly grabbing the umbrella and more so holding it over you instead of him.

jisung couldn’t help but feel bad and as if he was intruding your personal space the whole walk. neither of you talked and instead decide to distract yourself with the sight of the view and the sound of the rain. it took a while before the supermarket came into your view and you had turned jisung’s way. “we can separate from here.” you spoke, looking up at jisung who handed you the umbrella and took a step back. he nodded, looking ahead. “yeah, thank you for that.” he responded back and you could feel the corners of your mouth lifting up into a grin.

“it’s nothing, i’ll see you next week. bye jisung.” you waved him goodbye and turned around, starting to walk your own way. you didn’t even let jisung say anything back. you didn’t even hear how he had told you goodbye as well, sending a very small smile to your back view. on his walk back, jisung wasn’t sure how long it hadn’t rained for, but by the time he reached his apartment, he was completely dry without a single sign of dampness.

previous — master list — next

notes ; PLEASE FORGIVE ME FOR HAVING SO MUCH WRITING CHAPTERS i should’ve added that this is probably gonna be half written i’m sawryyyy 💔 anyways i’ll try to update tomorrow too HOPEFULLY…

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[eyesofshinigami]

Gifts

Rating: T

CW: None

Tags: Established relationship, fluff, minor sexual content

Prompt: For @forgottenkanji "Love is going out of your way to do something you know will make them happy"

WC: 653

Written for Day 29 of @steddielovemonth

He tells himself it’s going to be worth it. Standing here in thirty degree weather, shivering his ass off, waiting for the ticket office to open. Steve can picture the look on Eddie’s face when he shows up on their anniversary with Metallica tickets and that almost makes it worth it.

Three hours he’s been standing out here. The line is getting longer and longer, so he’s glad he made the decision to skip work for the day to come. 

Almost. His toes are still fucking freezing. 

“Hey man, you in the right line?” a couple of guys behind him snicker, and Steve has to keep from rolling his eyes. 

“Sure am. Friend of mine really likes the band and couldn’t make it out, so I figured I would grab tickets for him,” Steve lies smoothly. It’s not really any of these guys’ business, but he’s learned that it’s sometimes the best way to deal with people like this. 

The guys are quiet and one finally pipes up, “That’s kind of awesome, man. Sorry.”

Steve waves them off, pulling his jacket tighter around himself. He checks his watch; eight o’clock, the box office should open very soon. He had felt a little bad lying to Eddie, saying that he was going for a run and then had to get to work early, but he’d make it up to him with kisses later on. 

He hears cheers go up and the line starts moving, butterflies kicking up in his belly. The counter comes into view and the bored girl at the desk pops her gum as he gets the tickets. Middle seats, nothing fancy, but it’ll be enough to make Eddie lose his mind. 

Steve can’t wait.

–

Two weeks later they’re laying in bed, sweaty after sex and full of Jim’s Chinese from down the block. It’s been one of the best anniversaries Steve can remember, and he knows it’s about to get even better. 

“Got you a present,” he tells Eddie, reaching over to his nightstand to pull out the envelope he’s been hiding there for the last two weeks. He can’t wait to see the look on Eddie’s face; it’s going to be worth being cold for three hours and the subsequent runny nose that followed. 

Eddie grins, eyes shining. “I got you one too.” He reaches over and grabs something from his own bedside table. “On the count of three?” 

Together, they say, “One… two… three!”

They each hand the other a similar looking envelope. Eddie opens his first, and lets out a screech of pleasure. “Holy shit!!! Metallica tickets? I thought they sold out!!” He tackles Steve to the bed, kissing his face obnoxiously. “How?”

“Went and waited in line,” Steve replies, because yup, absolutely worth it. “I wanted to get them for you.”

Eddie’s eyes are a little wet and he pulls his hair in front of his face, delighted. “Okay, now you. Then I’m going to ride you into the mattress because I can’t believe you did this for me.”

Heart full, Steve opens up his own envelope, only to find a pair of tickets to go see the Bulls play next Saturday. His eyes go wide. “Eddie, what? You got me Bulls tickets? How-?” 

“Asked that guy Jake at your work and I went down the other day and got them. I thought you would like them.”

“But you hate sports!”

Eddie shrugs, looking bashful again. “Yeah, but you don’t. I thought it would nice, you know? We could go together? Unless you want to take like… Jake or something, but-”

He doesn’t even get to finish his sentence. Steve is pulling him close, kissing him like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. Their bodies press together and Steve is so ready to show Eddie how much he appreciates him. Repeatedly, until neither of them can move. 

All in all, a pretty great anniversary, he’d say.

[vhstown]

time out (part 2)

[boxer au] — 42!miles g morales x gn!reader

summary: Miles Morales makes boxing history. Your boyfriend isn't there to celebrate.

warnings: angst-ish, hurt/comfort, fluff, description of (boxing) injuries, briefly implied death, gtranslate spanish

word count: 5.3k

a/n: editing this was actual torture. kind of becomes a song fic? song is dreamer by bobby bland if you wanna listen before u read lmao entirely not necessary tho. part 2 of 2 but i might write this au again in the future !

← PART 1 / THE AU

Boxing — you tried to be as well versed in it as possible, learning as many terms and moves and whatever else you could pick up from Aaron when he was helping Miles train for all those weeks. What you weren’t sure of, though, was if a “time out”, or a break, had to be this awkward. What you also weren’t sure of was what on Earth your boyfriend was thinking doing here at midnight training (or splitting his knuckles open, though you didn’t quite know the difference anymore,) right after his tournament had finished.

Regardless, there was nothing you could do about it. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t just leave and “give him space” as you might’ve done before. The weather didn’t look like it was going to clear up anytime soon, and you had no signal or money; it wasn't like Miles would call a car for himself anyway — stubborn.

Miles was sat on the floor against a set of shelves with various things that belonged to Aaron, and you were on an unbearably stiff bench press seat, legs close together so you wouldn’t fall off and your jacket hung around the weight. Cold, uncomfortable, dead silent — the perfect atmosphere for a productive conversation, of course.

Truthfully, you had no idea what to say. Yeah, you’d just talked big game to your boyfriend and scolded him like his mother probably would’ve if she knew what the hell he was up to, but you hadn’t planned anything after that. Miles wasn’t a talker — not by any means. Right now, he was sat on the floor with his legs crossed, stretching uncomfortably on his elbows with his hands in awkward positions to try and not strain them too much. He hadn’t said anything, so you hadn’t said anything either, and now you were stuck without any words and too many thoughts.

It was a lot of unmet glances and quiet shivers, and you tried your best to kill the urge to just... lean over and hug him. As much as you missed him and wanted to let out everything you’d been feeling for the past couple of weeks, now wasn’t the best time — Miles probably couldn’t even hug you with those gnarly injuries anyway.

Miles’ eyes were dull and tired, fixed on the ground or maybe somewhere you couldn’t see. As usual, you couldn’t gauge anything from his expression besides mild annoyance. It was like a constant guessing game. First, why your texts weren’t going through, secondly, where the hell he was, and now you had to figure out why on Earth he was so frustrated. Your luck had ran out with those first two guesses, and his silence certainly didn’t help — again, not a talker. Not even a looker; he wasn’t stealing glances of you anymore, like he was thinking about something. If only you knew what.

The most you could guess was that this was about not winning — but it couldn’t just be that simple. Miles was stupid sometimes, but he wasn’t delusional — he knew that he probably couldn’t beat every single person in that championship when he was just starting to go professional. This wasn’t some kiddish, lofty dream Miles had either — he was serious from the day Aaron got him those gloves, which were now crumpled up in the corner next to you. He wouldn’t throw a fit over nothing.

It wasn’t right to force it out of him though, and you could still sense the stubbornness lingering in the crease between his brows. You resisted the urge to smooth it out with your thumb, instead just killing it with every other thought you deemed “selfish”. Apparently, waiting was just as much of a competitive sport at boxing.

The door rattled as icy drafts bit at your ankles and fingertips. It sounded like the sky was going to collapse from how intense the storm was growing. Miles was just in a tank top, his hoodie abandoned on the bar behind you. You figured he could get it himself; any sort of help always seemed pitying to him anyway.

“I’m training with uncle Aaron tonight — stay home.”

“I can handle myself. How else you think I got this far?”

“You ain’t comin’ to Vegas with me.”

You found yourself reaching for the hoodie anyway. Miles didn’t notice, of course, but you could see the goose bumps on skin even from this far away.

“Hey,” you muttered, making him look up. “Are you gonna tell me what’s up, or sulk some more?”

His mouth opened, but only to let out a breath, before silence fell between you again.

“Fine, I don’t… get it, or whatever.” You continued, fingers trailing into the sleeves of the hoodie. “But I don’t get how I’m supposed to when you’re not talking to me.”

“There’s nothing to get.” It was like you had Vegas between you two again — like he wasn’t even here.

The fabric of the hoodie was warm, and a part of you didn’t feel like letting go of it — if only your boyfriend was in the hoodie too.

“I don’t get why you’d box without wraps, for one.”

“I’m just… frustrated,” he yielded, albeit unhelpfully. “‘S nothing serious, promise.”

Serious enough to have your fingers hanging on by a thread. You noticed his thumb nursing the blackened skin around his knuckles, and his expression seemed even more distant than it was before. It was always some impossible game, and you hadn’t lost, but were drained and out of words for now.

Maybe he’d figure it out for himself; you weren’t too convinced of that. Despite that, it was getting annoying to hear the constant howling of wind and rain outside. Walking over to the shelf, you dropped the hoodie in Miles’ lap. You doubted he had even looked at you, but you didn’t need him to. Right now, you needed something to fill this boring, cold and wordless room.

Looking through the shelves behind Miles, you noticed a picture: a much younger Aaron wearing boxing gloves, a medal around his neck and standing next to someone you assumed to be Miles' dad. You'd never looked at any of the pictures close up, but you noticed there were a lot of old pictures like that, before finding Aaron's collection of records.

Taking the first one out, you put it into the player and carefully set the needle, glancing at the name of the song. His taste in music wasn’t exactly popular, but you’d rather listen to “DREAMER” than “inconveniently timed Brooklyn storm” right now.

Letting out a sigh of your own, you slumped down next to him as he pulled the hoodie over his head, arms going back to being crossed.

"~Dreamer... dreamer... Like a fool, I thought that it could be..." Of course it was a sad song. Blues? The haunting melody made you feel blue. It made the cold feel more numbing than biting on your skin. It made you feel, in general — what, you couldn’t really place.

“…Are we okay?” you muttered without much thought. The urge to talk had come back, and you hadn’t decided if you regretted speaking yet.

"~Dream on... dream on... surely someone, will understand me..."

Miles let out a breath, and it felt like you were exchanging more sighs than words. “Yeah. I just… ‘S not you.”

No “promise”, though. Did that make it more or less honest?

"~What do I say, when I've, oh, said too much? I think by now, I'm wastin' time..."

“...I love you, y’know?” you continued, hating how out of place it sounded. It was as useless as that text you tried to send, but you were tired, and missed your boyfriend, and wished he would give you even a glance.

“~I'm going… oh Lord I'm gone…”

“Love you too,” he mumbled in reply. It wasn’t very reassuring, and it didn’t seem like it to him either, because he reached out to brush your hand against his. You took his hand first — gently, and his thumb pressed into your palm in a sort of silent apology.

You hated how futile it was, and how much you craved it again. You hated you couldn’t be even a little mad at him, and how you were defending him to yourself. Maybe you were both in the wrong. No — you weren’t wrong, you were trying to be understanding.

You weren’t wrong for feeling this way, were you?

“~You are the absence, of my mind…”

You hated how much you missed that boy from all those months ago — even though he was right in front of you. It didn’t feel like Miles Morales was yours anymore, he was theirs — whoever “they” were. His competitors, his managers, the media… It was like there was no trace of the Miles you knew before. Maybe it’s because you couldn’t deny it anymore: that Miles had a dream, and you probably weren’t in it. You hated how you took it so personally.

And you hated how you reached out to hug him, despite all of that.

It was just you for a moment, and you were about to pull away before his arms wrapped loosely around the small of your back.

You hated how you hid your face over his shoulder, and how nice it felt. You hated how warm he was, and how the room was freezing.

You hated how familiar this was.

“~Lord, dreamer… dreamer…”

“Sorry, cariño. Didn’t mean to be an asshole.” Miles’ fingertips dragged uselessly over your back, and you shamelessly tightened your arms around him as he pressed his cheek into yours. You might’ve shed a tear, if it weren't for how heavy your eyes were already with the late hour. Neither of you could go home yet, though you weren’t sure if you wanted to right now.

“~Like a fool… I thought, well, that it could be…”

The long sigh you let out was followed by Miles’ own quiet one before he kissed you on the cheek. His breath warmed your frigid face and brushed at your heart, as he always did. You wished you could be upset, overreact, scream at his face, tell him how you felt all this time. It just always had to end with forgiveness, because now, you couldn’t even remember what you had felt.

And you hated it — not as much as you’d like.

Closing your eyes, you buried your head into his hoodie while the music, the storm and the sound of your own breathing blurred together in your mind. All you were left with were your own thoughts.

This boxing thing didn’t involve you — it never did. He didn’t want you there to see him, or even tell you he was home from Vegas, and now it felt like he was just putting up with you here. It felt like you and him were on opposite sides of the pavement, only walking together to share the same umbrella. He just didn’t want you to get soaked — or hurt.

“I told you not to come today… I’m walkin’ you home.”

He didn’t want you to expect too much.

“Nah, you don’t need to see me train. It’s borin’ as hell.”

He didn’t want you to give up on him.

“I’ll make it big — promise.”

He wanted his dream — did he still want you?

“Just be patient with me, cielo.”

Patient, huh? If only you could be like Rio. It felt like you were just as bad as Miles. Maybe you were — both just as bad as each other.

“Why didn’t you text me? …At all?” Muffled against his hoodie, you hoped your voice didn’t waver. It felt a little manipulative, even if it wasn’t in the slightest, but you couldn’t keep telling yourself things were all good. Miles had been avoiding you, whether that was intentional or not. You were just being open — trying to be open. You hope he’d try too.

The boy in question was silent, before he pulled away, hands lingering at your sides.

“I was…” Miles took in a breath, voice dying out for a moment. “Look, I…”

“~Down the wrong way, on a one way street…”

“I can’t be a boxer anymore.”

It felt like the rain had gone quiet. There was no need for an umbrella between you two anymore. It felt like you’d closed it yourself, walking to the opposite side of the pavement again, watching him and the dull, empty sky from afar.

You were the one that asked him — you wanted him to speak to you, and now you weren’t even sure what to say.

“~You'd think by now, I would have learned…”

“What do you mean…?”

“My contract got terminated.” His voice sounded forced, strangely robotic. Was that what you so wanted to get from him?

“Can’t you just… get signed by somebody else?”

“There is nobody else. I had a contract with Norman Osborn — he basically owns boxing.”

“~I saw a little, but I learned even less…”

Your heart dropped a little — you wouldn’t let it drop any more than that. It made sense why Miles was so excited back then if he got signed by someone like that. Now, that excitement meant nothing. All you could think of was that video, that interview…

“I jus’ hope you watchin’, cause I’m here. Miles Morales made it!”

So he’d just… given up? Miles had given up? Was that it? The end of it?

Boxer or not, you suddenly had the urge to punch him — maybe even punch yourself. It didn’t even matter who was right and who was wrong anymore, because you didn’t even know who was in front of you. It was almost uncanny to see Miles like this, so dejected; that’s what he’d been feeling all this time. As much as it seemed like he was mad at you, or was avoiding you, or lying to you, it was never really about you.

Miles was refusing to let go of his dream — of himself — until right now.

And you didn’t know what overcame you at that moment. Maybe it was Rio’s words, or the fact that Aaron wasn’t here, or the fact that you felt like you’d lost your boyfriend — if he wasn’t going to be stubborn about it anymore, you sure as hell were.

“So you’re telling me nobody else is gonna sign you? At all? You haven’t even looked?”

“You don’t get it, ‘s more complicated than—”

“Baby, look at me for a sec.” Your hand was on his shoulder with more confidence than common sense, eyes were square with his avoidant, dull, hopeless gaze. You haven’t ever seen Miles hopeless before. You couldn’t let him be if it was the last thing you did. “You, Miles Gonzalo Morales—”

“Aight, you don’t need the full name.”

“I do need it, because my whole ass boyfriend changed boxing history.” Frankly, you had no idea what you were saying; it felt like you were shooting in the dark, but you didn’t care if you sounded a little stupid, or over-the-top, because if that’s what it took to get your boyfriend to crack even a little… “His 'legendary left jab'—”

“Babe, where the hell did you get that from?” The look he was giving you was probably more of a “jab” than anything.

“…The news.” The corner of your mouth quirked up despite your best efforts, face pricking with heat as you remembered reading through that Bugle article like it was divine revelation. A little stupid, a little over-the-top, sure, but it was true.

Miles’ lips pressed together, and your face heated more trying to decipher his expression. You didn’t have to, because the snicker that escaped his throat was enough make all the rain and thunder and lighting, and even the song insignificant.

“~I only learn to regret…”

“Miles, I’m serious,” you muttered, rather unseriously, brows furrowing as you tried to smooth out the meekness on your face.

“Legendary?” There was a hint of his usual mirth in his tone, and you tried not to be bothered by it. Anything was better than seeing Miles like that: ridiculous, over-the-top, unserious, but not hopeless.

“Look, it was the Bugle, okay? Some millennial wrote that — like, some lady called Mary.”

“Why do you even remember that?” Anything that could come to mind, you’d tell him. No more silence. Just be yourself. Keep talking.

“I read it, like, a lot, okay? I was really proud of you and I just…”

The smirk fell fast from Miles’ face, and you held back any words you might’ve had. The rain eased back in as a constant patter against the windows — the silence had come back despite your efforts. Your heart started to sink a little again, but all you could offer was an awkward smile.

“You’re proud?” he asked, like you’d just lied to his face.

“Yeah…? I always am, but seeing you make it so far…” It was something you didn’t say enough, you realised. The words echoed in your mind as you found the confidence to look at him.

“…Miles Morales made it, right?”

Another tiny breath left Miles, his eyes closing for a moment as you waited for him to speak. You wanted to backtrack, maybe hope the rain would die down soon so you two could leave — you had sort of snuck out… That wasn’t the point, though. You weren’t sure what the point was right now, and you weren’t sure what he was thinking, as always — again.

His lips pressed to your forehead, and then your forehead was against his chest — somehow.

You still had no idea what he was thinking. Now you had no idea what he was feeling — or what you were feeling.

The room was freezing, but you were sure you were slowly setting on fire. Traces of the awkward smile you had were stuck on your face as your cheek pressed into the fabric of his hoodie, and suddenly every little thing you’d thought about saying to him had disappeared in its entirety.

“Dios (God), am I a dumbass…” he murmured to himself. With no clue what to do, you could only focus on the hesitance in the way he held you close, because of his injuries, you weren’t sure. His fingers were cold, like the air was. You didn’t hate the warmth this time.

The silence returned again, and instead of your heart sinking, it was fluttering wildly. You so wanted to take it in your hands and hold it still, but you couldn’t even hold Miles back.

He did this sort of thing often — used to do this often, when he was stressed for whatever reason. He wouldn’t say if he was, but you could always tell. Sometimes he’d ask, and right now, he didn’t, but it wasn’t like you ever refused; it was nice, safe, and away from the storm — close.

"~Surely someone, will understand me..."

He kissed the top of your head, like he was hoping you’d understand.

If only you could. If only you could understand why your boyfriend couldn’t see it — see how far he’d come, how much he’d achieved, how proud he should be of himself, how neither of you should be here right now.

If only Rio was here to tell him how proud she was. Or Aaron. Or his dad.

You never really knew his dad. You knew he’d be proud, at least. He'd probably be beaming seeing how far his son Miles had come, like he did in those pictures with Aaron.

You were proud too. Did that count for anything? Would that change anything? It wouldn’t get him another contract.

You wanted to squeeze his hand, but that was a stupid idea considering the state of it. A lot of your ideas felt stupid as of late. None of them would get him another contract.

It felt like a lot more than just the contract, though; maybe that's why it was so hard. If only he’d tell you.

But waiting wasn’t a game, or a competitive sport. It was nothing like boxing; there was no winner. Waiting was a choice — a promise, that you’d be there when he was ready.

“Just be patient with me, cielo.”

You wondered if he’d ever be ready.

"~Dream on, baby."

You wrapped your arms around him, finally. At the very least, you promised to hold him, if not before, then now. He tightened his grip too, just mariginally.

“I’m sorry, mi cielo.” he started, voice barely audible. “I swear, I didn’t know you actually…” Miles trailed off, resting his chin on the top of your head instead.

“Cared?” you suggested, wondering if he could hear you. “It’s a lot more than that.”

You felt his chest fall as he let out a sigh. “I know.”

“I want you to know.”

“I do, I just… I’m being real dumb and—” You squeezed your arms around him before he could finish his sentence; no more avoidance. What you were going to say after, you didn’t know.

“…What?” His voice was suddenly soft, controlled. It was like he could hear what was going on in your head.

“You ever…" You moved your head away from his chest slightly, so he could hear better. "You ever had a stage name in mind?”

It was the only thing you could think to ask, though you didn’t ask it with much thought at all. Still, things weren't going to go anywhere if you kept dodging the subject.

Miles was silent for more than just a moment — it was enough to guess he did have one. “...Why?”

“Cause… when you get back in the ring, people gotta know you right?” It wasn’t just blind optimism — you decided that you did really believe in him. They weren’t going to see the end of someone like him, not by a long shot — or a legendary left jab. Your boyfriend was one hell of a boxer; it wouldn't just stop here — no way.

“I mean, '17-year-old from NYC' isn’t exactly catchy,” you continued, despite his silence.

Just one loss before so many wins. At his age, a win, against a “long-time champion” no less, was worth a million times more than that Norman guy’s contract, no matter how much of a big-shot he was.

“You think I’m gettin’ signed?” They’d be stupid not to.

“I know you’re getting signed.” Rio's words came back to you, and despite your hesitance, you found yourself saying: “If not, I’ll sign you and go to Vegas myself.”

Patient — like his mom, but also with that fighting spirit. You realised you had to be on his level too — match his energy, his enthusiasm. He’d spent long enough being on his own.

“...Fine, fine,” he shrugged. The edge in his tone seemed to fade as he thought for a moment. “If you’re signin’ me, you’re signin’… The Prowler.”

Miles loved boxing? Screw it, you loved boxing too. You loved boxing more than him, in fact — because it was a part of him. And even when he didn’t love his dream so much, you’d be there to love it for him. He loved all of you, and you loved all of him. That was still true now, even if he was going through something not so lovely.

And soon, you’d have something else to love too. Something new.

“The Prowler,” you repeated, a smile of your own creeping up on your face. “…You sure?” The groan Miles let out was enough to curb your need to annoy him… with love.

“Cariño…" he mumbled. "You ask just to make fun of me?” Miles shook his head, and you just squeezed him around the waist again.

“No, no way. I wanna welcome you to the team, Prowler.” A few firm pats on his back got him to laugh again, and though it was barely, that moment felt worth all those weeks.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m a hundred percent serious. You and your 'legendary left jab' and all.”

“You…” The hint of a smile was in his voice, and his good hand came to pull you closer, pressing the two of you flush against each other.

“Me…?” Your voice was muffled as you rested against the hollow of his neck, feeling the vibrations of his voice as he spoke.

“Can’t believe you’re still here.” It sounded more like he was talking to himself, speaking under his breath. The way it came out, it seemed like something he'd wanted to say for a while.

“Why would I leave?” Why would you ever leave?

“No clue.”

His good hand found your face, and you turned your head a bit so it wouldn't be so awkward to reach it.

“Don't know why I ever thought that.”

You felt his thumb run across your cheek, before pulling away and tilting your face up to meet his eyes.

“Damn, you're beautiful,” he murmured, dipping his head down to bump your nose with his, stoic expression and all. You were just about able to keep your composure.

“You trying to make it up to me with flattery?” It wasn’t like he had much to make up for — in your eyes, at least. The tease made his eyes narrow, but the ghost of a smile was on his lips.

“I can make it up to you a hell of a lot better than that.”

“Morales,” you warned, thought it didn't come out much like a warning. Especially not with how quietly you said it, your face so close to his.

“What?” It was his turn to be annoying. “Lo imaginé…” (I thought so…) You weren't sure you minded it.

It was nice to be joking, and flirting, and close again. There was no need to protest right now — no reason to pretend to be mad. His arm shifted to search for your hand, and you unconsciously laced your fingers together as your faces drew closer. You were already squeezing his hand before—

“Aye…!” Miles hissed, slipping his hand away as you both remembered the nasty, loud bruise that was spreading across his hand. His left hand, you realised, was the one he’d injured — it wasn’t exactly legendary now.

“Sorry…” you muttered, lips pressing together tightly as you took in the sight again. “But that was your fault."

Miles frowned at you almost incredulously as he held his own hand. “Nuh-uh.”

“Time out, Morales.” You couldn’t help it. Or help the smile on your face.

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” You kissed his cheek to really rub it in. No more words from him, it looked like.

After a moment more of silence, and watching Miles nurse his own hand, you spoke up again. “…Are you gonna go back? To boxing?” Miles looked back at you, before nodding.

“Yeah. Eventually, I guess...” He let out a sigh, but it seemed like one of fatigue rather than frustration. You blinked away your own tiredness that was creeping back. "As the Prowler.”

“Got a lot of… prowling to do, then.” He pursed his lips at you in contempt, and you gave him a meek look in return. As much as you made fun of the name, it was pretty cool. “When are you thinking?”

“I’ll wait a little. ‘S too soon." Miles put his less-brutalised hand on your knee, looking at you a bit more earnestly. "Gotta make it up to you, first.”

“Obvio.” (Obviously) You tried hiding your smirk this time, but he caught it anyway.

“Driving me crazy for no reason,” he mumbled to himself, shaking his head. The few times you did speak Spanish, it usually wasn't to be sweet.

“A good crazy?” you tried, hoping he'd humour you a little. Maybe he could find it sweet?

“Ni hablar.” (No way.)

Sweet enough to kiss you, anyway. With his better hand, he held the side of your face by his fingertips, pressing a short, chaste kiss to your lips. The feeling was warmer than anything, and you were left with a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as he pulled away.

“Te amo (I love you),” he whispered with his own shred of a smile. You caught a glint in his eye before his expression faded into that same serious look. “I'll fix up, I promise.”

“No need to promise." With your thumb, you finally smoothed the crease between his brows — an old, shared habit. It made his expression soften a little. "Cause you will, and you’ll make it even further next time.”

“Right,” he agreed, hand still lingering by your jaw. “I will. Gimme a time out if I don’t.” A laugh escaped your mouth at that.

"Sure." You met him with your own chaste kiss, your heart swelling as you felt him smile a little against your lips. “I love you too, by the way.”

The record had stopped playing, ages ago, you noticed, and there was another stretch of silence. Total silence, actually — it had stopped raining entirely.

“We should probably head back,” Miles stated as he looked out the window with you, before getting up with a bit of a groan. The two of you needed rest, especially him.

“Yeah,” you murmured, reaching for your jacket. “I mean, I sort of… snuck out.”

His silence made you turn back, only to be met with an unamused look. You tried not to laugh again. “So you’re sayin’ we’re both dead.”

“Pretty much.” He rolled his eyes at your sheepish smile, but you caught the corner of his mouth lift up as he turned to the door. It wasn't like the two of you hadn’t snuck out before — this was just like all those other times, just more… unplanned.

The night time air was strangely cool and breathable as you left the warehouse. Though the concrete was slippery, and you and Miles had to hold onto each other to not fall, Brooklyn was glimmering almost ethereally by the moonlight, the sky clear with any lingering clouds now gone. You hooked your arm in Miles' arm, his hands loosely tucked into the pocket of his hoodie. He’d have some explaining to do to his mom about his hands, and you’d have to creep back into your apartment as quietly as possible — but right now, in the silence hum of the city, you felt that things would be okay. Maybe they weren’t excellent, or ideal right now, but okay was a good start. The Prowler was a thing of the future, albeit near future. Right now, it was just you and Miles Morales, going home together past your curfews.

Ping! Ping Ping Ping Ping Ping Ping—

Way past your curfews.

At the same time, the two of you pulled your phones out, only to be bombarded with notifications of missed calls and texts. You were a short distance away from the warehouse now, and your phones had only just gotten signal. It was 1:02am, and you had walls of texts asking you where the hell you were and to "get your ass home right now" on your lock screen. Miles gritted his teeth, and you didn't want to think about what Rio had to say.

As the pinging died down, your eyes met, the both of you thinking the exact same thing:

“We’re so dead.”

You shot a quick message back and mental prayer, Miles doing the same before hastily linking arms with you again. He returned your sheepish look with his own as the two of you kept walking, trying not to slip in the puddles. It had already been a long night, and it was about to get way longer, but at least you could have each other’s company.

"~All my life, been a dreamer..."

"~Dream on... dream on..."

After all, you could guess that a lot more than just a “time out” was waiting for you at home.

"~Maybe somewhere... maybe somewhere..."

🕸️🔭👾

↑ the song! bobby bland 🔛🔝

felt a bit empty without a message hi this is vee it is midnight and i have to go to school in less than 8 hours ! thriving !!!! also if you're interested i have a post about just the au itself here <3

taglist (ppl who asked anyway 😭): @iissza

reblogs appreciated (like so much i literally melt and die) catch the rest of my atsv stuff here!

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 21

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 5k

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Wednesday, November 25; 6:10 AM - Ona and Alexia's Room

I was running late this morning. For the first time since the beginning, I stayed up past curfew to study a bit more. Luckily, I didn’t get caught, but it did mess up my wake-up time. I hurried to get ready in the bathroom while Alexia was already in the room.

“Oh crap!” shouted Ale. “Ona, come here!”

“What? Wait a second, or Bronze will be all over me if I’m not ready.”

I finished applying my mascara as Alexia rushed to the bathroom door, smiling from ear to ear. I barely had time to put the mascara away before she pulled me to the only window in our room. I was speechless.

“You’ve got to be kidding me! It’s snowing?!”

“This is amazing!!!” Alexia exclaimed. “Look, everything’s white! It must’ve snowed all night. And we get out early today! Imagine the huge snowball fight we can have!”

“No way! And Bronze wants me to run with her this morning... She’s out of her mind.”

“You’re the one who’s out of your mind if you think you can get out of it.”

We jumped in sync at the voice. I closed my eyes, instantly regretting my words.

“And to your positions by the bed, young ladies? Immediately!” she scolded.

Alexia wasted no time trotting over. I swallowed hard and slowly turned around. She raised an eyebrow, seeing I wasn’t obeying.

“Seriously? You’re going to make me run in the snow?”

“It won’t just be a simple run if you don’t listen to me right now.”

In less than a second, I was in place. One look at her stern gaze changed my mind about defying her. I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye and noticed she wasn’t checking our room but rummaging through my wardrobe. I frowned, assuming she was looking for my sports clothes. I wasn’t wrong when she stood before me with a tracksuit and a thick sweater.

“You won’t leave this room until you’re changed.”

The witch! I sighed, grabbed the clothes angrily, and locked myself in the bathroom. I came out once I was done changing. Bronze smiled proudly when she saw me.

“Can’t we postpone this to tomorrow? I have a test later.”

“No, otherwise, you’ll keep making excuses, and you made it clear yesterday you needed motivation. Guess who’s in charge of your motivation?”

I rolled my eyes. She looked at her watch before looking back at me.

“You have half an hour to eat. I expect you on the field at seven. If you’re not there, I’ll drag you out by your ear if I have to.”

I grumbled as soon as she left the room. Alexia was laughing her head off. She could be happy about not having a supervisor on her case anymore.

“Why does she insist on you running today?”

“She remembered I missed my runs when things were tense between us. She’s determined to get me back on track. I guess she hasn’t figured out yet that I’m not interested.”

She burst out laughing. I only chuckled weakly. I could’ve done without this, especially today. I’m already sleep-deprived as it is. We headed to the cafeteria in the freezing cold. The temperature must have dropped at least five to ten degrees overnight. Until now, my uniform jacket and sweaters had been enough, but not anymore. I was freezing. I was glad when we reached the cafeteria. The meal went on cheerfully, as usual. Everyone was excited because of the snow. I must be the only one who doesn’t like it. It seemed no special arrangements were made for this type of weather. Alexia wasn’t kidding about the snowball fight after classes. I’d have to find a way to get out of it. Once I finished my breakfast, I joined Bronze after the meal. I knew she wasn’t joking with her threats, so I’d better not make her mad. I managed to arrive on the field early. I wasn’t surprised to see her already there. The snow had stayed on the ground overnight, but it didn’t seem to bother her in her run. I, on the other hand, had nearly slipped ten thousand times just on the way from the cafeteria to the field. Bronze smiled when she saw me.

“See, you can do it when you try.”

“Are you going to motivate me with threats every day?”

“Don’t take it that way,” she laughed. “It was the only way to get you moving. You need to clear your head before your test. I bet you’ve been thinking about it since last night, am I right?”

How does she know me so well? My silence answered her question. Thankfully, she couldn’t read my mind, or she’d know I stayed up past curfew last night. I hope she doesn’t notice I’m hiding something because I’m a terrible liar with her.

“Alright, let’s get started!”

I grumbled but got going. She matched my pace so we could run together. I went even slower than usual because of the snow. It wasn’t easy, and now wasn’t the time to break something. Bronze teased me, asking if I was running or trotting like a horse. Since I’m someone who can’t let my pride go unchallenged, I slightly picked up the pace halfway through our route. I regretted it a few steps later when I found myself sprawled on the ground. I heard Bronze laughing behind me. I groaned as I turned to see her trying to calm down, asking if I was okay, but failing.

“Stop laughing, it’s not funny! My back hurts!”

“Really?” she calmed down instantly.

She crouched next to me as I sat up. I groaned exaggeratedly, rubbing my back. I stifled a smile at her worried look. I took advantage of her lowered guard to push her shoulder with a big grin. I immediately lost my smile when I saw that my little push barely moved her.

“This isn’t funny, Ona,” she frowned. “I was really worried! Are you actually hurt or just messing with me?”

“A bit of both. My butt hurts a bit from the fall, but I’m okay.”

“And your back?”

“It’s manageable,” I giggled.

“Hm...”

I didn’t expect her to react so strongly. I bit my lip at the thought she might call me childish. That would offend me. But I let out a surprised gasp when snow hit my face. I barely had time to close my mouth and eyes before Bronze spread it all over. I spit out what got into my mouth, still in shock. I heard her laughing while I composed myself. I wiped my face with my arm to remove the rest. Well... It seems my supervisor knows how to have fun more than I thought. She got me at my own game.

“I hate you!” I laughed, throwing the first handful of snow I could grab at her.

Her laughter intensified as she brushed off the snow with one hand. She let herself fall to the ground, calming down. I laughed too, realizing what had just happened. I never thought Bronze would be capable of pranking me. My face must be bright red now. Anyway, I’m freezing. Snow must have gotten into my clothes. My thick sweater and small camouflaged jacket were no longer enough. I regretted not wearing the T-shirt Bronze had given me.

“Will you be alright?” she teased.

“You’ll pay for this! How old are you to be doing this?” I mocked.

“Okay, you win. We’ll stop for today,” she laughed. “It’s impossible to run in these conditions. Are you cold?”

“Yeah. Tell me, are we allowed to wear our big jackets over our uniforms?”

“Of course,” she smiled.

“Well, it won’t help me much. I didn’t bring any as big as I need.”

Bronze looked at her watch. I didn’t even know what time it was, but I hoped I had at least time to shower. I knew we started running early, so there was a good chance I did.

“It’s only a quarter past seven. Let’s shower, and I’ll bring one of my jackets to your room when I’m done. Is that okay?”

I nodded, smiling. She got up and helped me do the same right after. I was really cold but tried not to show it. We eventually split up to go to our respective rooms.

Wednesday, November 25; 2:50 PM - Math Class

I read through my paper one last time. I had ten minutes left if I wanted to change anything, but I couldn’t find any errors to correct. I really hoped I hadn’t messed up. I spent hours and hours working on it. Besides, Bronze asked me to tell her my grade once it was marked. She would kill me if I brought her a bad grade.

“Those who are finished may leave,” instructed my teacher. “The rest of you have five more minutes to finish.”

Many of my classmates sighed in relief. Chairs scraped noisily against the floor, creating a racket.

“In silence, please! Respect those still working.”

I look at Alexia, who is a bit further away next to me. My teacher had fun separating all the desks to prevent cheating. She's putting her things away. I put mine away as well. Anyway, I can't change much in five minutes. I managed to do all the exercises, so the die is cast now. I put my bag on my back and hand in my paper to the teacher before leaving. I see a lot of dejected faces as I exit, including Alexia's. Is it because of the test? I didn't find it that hard. It was even easier than I expected. Unless Bronze prepared me too well.

- Did you do well?

- Are you kidding? grumbled Alexia. Did you see how hard it was? I'm just glad it's over! He really went overboard with all those exponentials and everything! she added.

- I thought it was okay.

- Are you serious? You're the only one!

- Well, I must have spent at least six hours reviewing it since Monday.

- It's true, you fell asleep with your math book on you last night, she teased.

- Oh, come on! I grumbled.

Well, it's true. I fell asleep from exhaustion around midnight with my book on my chest. I really have to thank Bronze for preparing me so well. She did a great job by having me review everything from scratch. I have a lot to be proud of if I did well. Hopefully, that's the case. I take a deep breath, relieved that it's all over. It was my last class of the day. Alexia is all excited, and I don't think I can hold her back any longer.

- Come on, let's not drag. The girls are waiting for us!

- How can you be so eager to have a snowball fight, seriously? I chuckled.

- But it's fundamental! Don't you like it?

- Not really. Can't I be excused?

- No way! You won't back out.

- At least you'll have an even number, I argued.

- Alba is bringing one of her classmates, and I think Patri and Claudia are bringing people too.

Excuse failed. God will never be on my side. Alexia pulls me outside without giving me a choice. Fortunately, Bronze lent me a jacket and gloves. They keep me warm once outside. I find the jacket better than mine, which I forgot in Barcelona. It has fur inside that keeps me warm. I'm hesitating to buy a new one now that I know better. I might try to negotiate to keep it, or I hope she'll forget about it, though I highly doubt it. It's Bronze, after all. She never forgets anything. I don't know where Alexia is taking me. We just passed through the supervisors' dormitories. I didn't expect to find a large grassy and tree-filled area covered in snow just behind. It starts from one end of the school's wall and extends to the parking lot at the other end, hidden by a row of trees. Everything is white, it's beautiful. The place is already filled with many students having fun in different ways, alone or in groups. I find it surprising that they allow us to have fun here. Many snowmen have been made. Alexia guides us to our group of friends where I spot several unfamiliar faces.

- Ah! Finally, they're here, said Patri as we arrived.

- Sorry, we just finished a test, replied Alexia.

- How did it go? Lotte asked us.

- Too hard! Well... It depends on the perspective, apparently, she said, glancing at me.

I smiled, shrugging. I turned my eyes to the new faces. I feel like I'm the only one who doesn't know them, seeing how Alexia greets them. They seem to know me, though. One of the girls mentions my name while greeting me. It seems my reputation precedes me... They introduce themselves one by one. Ella, Misa, Maya, Laia, and Alessia. That's a lot of names to remember at once. I hope I won't mix them up. They all act differently. Alessia keeps smiling at me while Misa gives me a disapproving look. This whole situation makes me uncomfortable and makes me analyze it. From what I can see, the girls have a lot of spirit and won't back down easily. The battle is going to be tough.

- Well, I suggest we make two teams. Leah and I could be the leaders. Alba says.

- Are you kidding? retorted her sister. Why should it be the two of you?

- I agree with Alexia, Misa supported.I stand back as they start debating which arrangement would be best. I give Alessia, who comes to my side, a shy smile.

"The best thing is to let them argue among themselves," she comments.

"Absolutely," I chuckle. "Anyway, they won't have the final say against Alexia."

"It's true, she's hard to contradict," she agrees.

"Ona, in my team!"

"What did I say," I roll my eyes. "Never would be the right word..."

Alessia chuckles as I join Alexia, who, as predicted, won her position as team captain. Opposite her is her sister, who has chosen Laia as her first teammate. I'm relieved that Alexia asks for my opinion on the next picks. I suggest Leah and Alessia, since the latter seems nice. On the other side, Misa, Ella, Patri, and Maya complete the team. The last ones to join us are Claudia and Lotte. Alexia seems satisfied with her team. I thought we were going to have a little battle, but not at all. Alexia suggests we split up to find a "base" to prepare and come up with a plan of attack. I sense this game is going to be anything but fun. The two groups disperse into the small forest. Alexia finds us a big tree to hide behind. I crouch next to my roommate to prepare ammunition. I would do anything for her.

"Did you see the first girl Alba chose?"

« Laia »

« Yeah. She's my ex."

"Really?" I say in surprise. "What happened?"

"An overprotective sister who ruined everything, if you ask me," Alessia chimes in from across us.

"Because of Alba?"

"Yeah, among other things. She's friends with Leah here. They've been together in class for three years. Laia and I got together in our first year."

"And then Alba the savior threatened to beat her to death if she touched her sister."

I widen my eyes at Leah's revelation. I look at Alexia for confirmation. She just shrugs in response. I didn't think it was that serious. I understand better why she doesn't want to tell her about her instructor-turned-girlfriend.

"Why don't you put her in her place? You have the right to have relationships."

"You think I haven't tried?" she sighs. "We always end up fighting because she won't let it go."

"And you care too much about her, so you don't want to lose her."

Poor girl. I'm sure Alba doesn't even realize it. Because of her, her sister feels obligated to hide her new relationship from her. If I were in her shoes, I'd rather calm down than not know my sister is in a relationship. Well, with Joan, I still have plenty of time to worry about that.

"Enough with the balls," she says, standing up.

I admit we have plenty of ammunition already. I stand up too while Alexia discreetly looks behind the tree. I peer over her shoulder and spot Alba watching us a few meters away, also behind a tree.

"Should we pair up and take them from each side? One girl and one guy. One holds the ammunition, and the other shoots. How's that sound?"

"I'll pair up with Leah," I say without hesitation.

She smiles, approving our partnership. Alexia pairs up with Lotte and Claudia with Alessia. We each go our own way, trying to stay hidden behind the trees. I decided to hold the ammunition. I'm a terrible thrower.

"Why should I be the one to shoot?"

I giggle, thinking I’ve definitely chosen my partner well. She seems as motivated as I am for this stupid game. We're arguing about who should hold and who should throw when I’m already holding the balls in my arms. We stop when we're attacked by flying snowballs. We quickly locate the source. It's Alba and Ella - if I remember her name correctly - mocking us from not far away. I guess we weren't very discreet this time. Leah quickly reacts and sends a missile right into Alba's open mouth. Now it's our turn to laugh. We quickly take cover behind a tree, throwing snowballs at each other. Alba enjoys shooting at me since I can't respond with my arms full while Leah continues to attack them in turn. Our ammunition runs out quickly, so we decide to retreat. Our opponents don't seem to agree as they chase us. Finally, we abandon our initial plan, and I attack with Leah, both of us making our missiles. We try to lose them among the trees, but in the end, I just lose Leah . I sigh, seeing no one chasing me. Alba was following me, but she's no longer there. I try to hide to catch my breath. Bronze's punishments are taking a toll on my cardio. Maybe I should reconsider that jogging suggestion. It's always better to run for fun than be forced to do twenty laps as punishment. I jump when a hand touches my shoulder. My hand instinctively goes to my heart.

"Sorry," giggles Alessia. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with Claudia?"

"And you with Leah?"

"We lost each other trying to shake off Alba and the brunette... Ella, I think?"

"Yes, that's right," she laughs. "I lost Claudia while escaping the others too."

Alessia moves closer to the tree to look behind it. Meanwhile, I’m still trying to catch my breath. I don’t even know if Alba caught up with me, but I think she did. She probably has better stamina than I do.

"Is someone chasing you?"

"Alba. Do you see her?"

"No."

I signal her to be quiet, and we start preparing some more ammunition. We leave our hiding spot. We find Alba more easily than I thought. We chain her up before she has time to realize what's happening. For the first time since the start, she's the one fleeing. I chase after her, not worrying about Alessia, trying to keep up with her pace. She's much faster, so it's hard. I try to throw snowballs at her, but I miss more than I hit. At one point, she stops abruptly to face me. She smiles while her chest rises and falls irregularly. She shows her hands in surrender. I'm not buying it. Alessia catches up to us. We simultaneously throw our last snowballs at her. I smile, seeing mine hit her squarely, unlike Alessia's, which lands much lower. She ducks to avoid it. My smile fades when I see who my snowball accidentally hit. I don’t even pay attention to the second snowball that must have perfectly hit Alba. I freeze in fear, imagining what's going to happen next. Her eyes are closed as if she’s absorbing the impact. The girl with her is laughing hysterically. I stifle a laugh, remembering her expression. My amusement fades when her eyes lock onto mine and her deep voice resonates through the forest.

"Ona Batlle! I hope you can run fast because if I catch you, you're in big trouble!"

I don't take this as a joke. I turn around, using Alessia for momentum. I weave through the trees, fleeing from my pursuing supervisor. I find the edge of the small forest, trying to maintain distance, but it’s no use. I lose my balance when she grabs my arm, pulling us both down. We roll in the snow before stopping further away. Bronze is quicker and pins me down with her weight. Realizing the mess I'm in, I muster my last strength to try to break free, but Bronze tightens her grip with one hand while the other shoves snow in my mouth. It’s the same scene as this morning. The difference is she’s holding me so I can’t struggle. I hear laughter in the distance, but I can’t tell who it is. Bronze laughs too as I spit out the snow. Opening my eyes, I see her cheerful face, now sitting on me.

"Are you okay?" she mocks.

"All this for a simple snowball?" I say between coughs.

She laughs, reaching towards my face. I flinch, not wanting more snow.

"Let me, she giggles. I just want to help."

I remain skeptical, even when she removes her glove. Unexpectedly, she wipes the snow from my face and pulls down my jacket that must have ridden up during our tumble. She stands up and offers her hand, which I accept. I'm completely soaked. I can't feel my frozen body. A gust of wind makes me shiver. I see my friends mocking me behind Bronze. Engen is also watching with an unreadable smile. I stop looking around when I realize we aren’t the only ones who stopped their activity to watch. Bronze snaps her fingers in front of my face.

"Are you listening, Ona?"

"Huh?" I say, startled. "What did you say?"

"Take off your jacket. It's soaked. You'll get sick."

"My jacket isn’t the only thing soaked. I'm completely wet."

Since I don’t react, she unzips my jacket and takes it off. I can't feel any difference because I'm so frozen. My shivering worsens. I try to warm up with my arms, but it's useless. She removes her own jacket and helps me put it on.

"No more playing in the snow for you today."

"Whose fault is that?" I grumble.

"I'm not the one having a snowball fight," she smiles.

"I'm not the one who accidentally stood behind Alba when she was supposed to get hit by my snowball."

Thinking back, I wonder if Alba did it on purpose given the smile she gave me before ducking. She laughs while trying to warm me by rubbing my arms energetically. I let her do it. I don't dare move my little toe because I'm so sore all over from the cold.

- I didn't know you were such a good thrower.

- Neither did I, I snorted. A stroke of luck, and of course it hits you.

She laughs as Engen joins us. She picks up Bronze's gloves from the ground and my jacket that my supervisor had tucked between her legs.

- Are you okay?

I nod to show her that I am.

- Your lips are all blue, Engen tells me.

- You're going to hear from me if I get sick because of you, I grumble.

- Hey, it's not my fault! You shouldn't have played in the snow.

- Are you okay, Ona? asks Alexia, who just joined us. Are you coming back to play with us?

- No, Bronze answers for me. I'm taking her back to your room so she can have a nice hot shower to thaw out.

- Anyway, the others acknowledged our victory by saying that hitting Bronze was the pinnacle, she giggles. Well played!

Even Bronze laughs at the news. My teeth start chattering loudly. That’s the last straw for Bronze, who cuts the conversation short. I have no choice but to follow her and Engen to the dormitory.

- Why were you there?

- To keep an eye out. Things can quickly get out of hand at times like this.

Engen revisits what just happened. She keeps repeating that I should have seen my face when I hit Lucy. She adds that our fall was memorable. I’ll probably remember my first snow day in Manchester for a long time. I’ll laugh about it when I tell the story later. It’s not every day a snowball accidentally hits your supervisor in the face. Engen turns back to her post at the dorms to continue keeping watch. Bronze accompanies me to my dorm, taking me through a back door I’ve never seen before.

- Are these the stairs you used when you brought me to your room?

- Yes. It’s our way to come see you. It’s actually an emergency exit, but it’s never used, so no students know about it.

- I guess I’m not allowed to tell anyone?

- Preferably not. We’d rather avoid having students hanging around this hallway to escape us.

I nod in understanding. This path is shorter for them, saving them from having to go around the building to get to our dorm. I only feel the warmth of the building once we reach the hallway on the first floor. The first thing I do when I get to my room is sit on my bed to try and take off my boots. Bronze helps me when she sees me shaking like a leaf. Even my socks are soaked, even though nothing should have gotten through the thickness of these shoes. I take off my jacket but keep my sweater on, remembering that I have nothing underneath but my bra.

- Take off your clothes so I can dry them and go take a shower, she orders me. I'll get you some dry clothes in the meantime.

- Get me some sweatpants and a big sweater, please.

I take off my pants and sweater while she has her head in the closet. She’s seen me more undressed than this, but I still feel just as embarrassed. I leave my clothes on the floor and lock myself in the bathroom. I take off the rest of my clothes before slipping into the shower. I sigh as the warmth calms my shivers. I stay there for a while, hoping I haven’t used up all the hot water, as my roommate might want to do the same when she gets back. This day has shown me that I’m not used to cold temperatures. Of course, I’ve seen snow before, but it’s extremely cold in Manchester. I also come from a warm country. I was born in Portugal and lived in Barcelona. That says a lot about my weather habits. Once done, I return to my room with just a towel covering me. I’m surprised to see Bronze has stayed. She’s lying on my bed, careful not to get her shoes on it. I bite my lip when I see she’s holding my sketchbook. I don’t like people entering my world without asking permission. I take a deep breath and move towards the clothes she’s prepared and laid out on my desk.

- You’re talented. I especially love this one, she says, showing me.

- Thanks...

- Sorry, she says, noticing my discomfort. It was on your bedside table, and I couldn’t resist.

- Oh, I must have forgotten to put it away then.

- Are you feeling better? Not too cold anymore?

- I’m fine, but I’ll get dressed before it comes back.

- Yep, I’ll leave you to it then. I was supposed to be keeping watch outside anyway. I’ve put your wet clothes on the radiator. See you tomorrow if I don’t see you before then.

We wish each other a good evening before she leaves. I smile when I see she’s thought of all my clothes, even my underwear. I glance at my sketchbook, which she’s put back on my bedside table, thinking I should remember to put it away. I finally gather my clothes and lock myself in the bathroom, not knowing when Alexia will return. In the end, despite being frozen, I loved this day. Now I just have to hope I don’t get sick from all this nonsense. I’m already sniffling ten times. That would be the last straw…

[horrificshit]

Limits.

Dom!Lou miller x Sub!Reader

Warning(s): Smut, dumbification, strap on?, daddy kink, age gap

A/N: I decided to write this in a first person point-of-view. Why? Don’t ask me.

Words: 1.8k

Ding!

The sound of my phone going off. Curiosity peaks, I pick up my phone, revealing who messaged me:

Incoming message from Lou💕:

Lou💕: “Hey baby, I’m out doing some errands, can you be dressed by the time I’m home?”

Oh? Why does she want me dressed? Maybe we’re going somewhere fancy? Surely not.. Surprisingly, going to places which require dressing up for are a rare occurrence.

I shoot a text back, giving a response to Lou’s message.

You: “Okay! Should I dress fancy?”

Lou💕: “Yes, you’ll see why once I’m home 😉”

I get up from my once cave-like spot in the king size bed, giving up the warmth of the bedsheets. The room is quite cold due to the crispness of the winter weather in late January.

Speed walking to the closet, I sift through a number of dresses; all of different colors, lengths, patterns, and materials.

a long sleeve dress was obviously the ethical choice given the weather, but a short, skintight dress seemed more ethical in my opinion. Who cares about being cold when id feel like the sexiest girl in the room?

My eyes land on a white satin dress. I don’t think I’ve ever worn this one. Where did I get it again? Maybe from high school prom.

Bleh. Prom. I always hated prom. And evidently, I only went that one time. Brian Richards, the boy I went with, he ended up being a huge duche.

Whatever.

I slip on the dress, and— oh my god. I could literally fuck myself. The dress, it hugs all my curves in all the right places. My collar bones stick out and I find that extremely sexy, and hopefully Lou will think the same.

Shoes.

Grab a pair of white heels. Not to tall, not too short.

My jewelry is dainty. a gold necklace with a small heart. So small in-fact, you can hardly see it. Large gold pearl earrings accompany the necklace.

I trot over to my vanity, gathering a few products: primer, concealer, blush, highlighter, mascara, and lipgloss. Simple, yet bold.

My hair lies in a simple half-up-half-down with, of course, a white bow in the back.

And, just as I get finished, I hear that familiar ding of my phone, notifying me that Lou must be here for me. I check my phone, and to my expectation, I see an incoming message from the older woman.

Incoming message from Lou💕:

Lou💕: “I’m here. Take your time, the reservation isn’t until 6:30.”

Smiling, I put my phone down and take a look in the mirror. Hopefully she likes it as much as I do.

I grab my small brown purse and take yet another look in the mirror, giving one last check before going out the door to greet my girlfriend.

Overall outfit:

I walk toward Lou’s sports car, the cold nipping me in the butt. Literally and figuratively. I sort of regret wearing a sleeveless dress, but whatever, I look amazing.

Lou unlocks the car door, and I enter the vehicle. She looks like she’d seen a ghost from how she was looking at me. Did I look that good?

Her eyes rake up my entire body, stopping at my lips. I smile, flattered and proud of myself that I indeed, do look that good.

“Where are we going?” I inquire, still having not been told why I had to get all dolled up. “Somewhere fancy.” Chuckles Lou, already having naughty thoughts.

She takes the initiative to reach her hand over and grasp onto my thigh. I squeak, not being prepared for her to touch me, but relax a few seconds later.

Some time goes by and I decide to take in what Lou herself is wearing:

She wears a black turtleneck top, a black leather jacket atop. Black skinny jeans, the type that hug her curves, or in reality, her ass, in the most perfect way.

In correlation with the rest of her outfit, she wears black heeled boots. And of course, in typical Lou fashion, her plethora of necklaces lay on top of her chest.

The car stops, and the older woman squeezes my thigh, silently letting me know she’s going to let go, and that we’ve arrived at the final destination.

“We’re here,” Lou says with a smirk. I look up and see a restaurant with a name I cannot even pronounce. At least without stuttering that is. The restaurant looked exclusive; like we weren’t allowed in. But, according to my girlfriend, we are.

We both get out of the car, and I immediately am reminded of how cold it is outside. Lou takes notice of my shivering, and ushers me inside of the restaurant.

The girl in the front greets Lou and I. “Hello, welcome to Novitá, do you have a reservation?”

Lou grabs her phone, pulling up a digital receipt. I didn’t even know that was a thing, but the world changes everyday, I suppose.

“Here,” Lou shows the girl the receipt, looking back at me with a smile.

“If it doesn’t work, my reservation should be under the name Lou Miller.”

She types in her name and smiles back, grabbing two menus. “This way,” we’re leaded to our table, which Lou previously reserved days before.

We both order our drinks, champagne for myself, whilst Lou opts for an ‘old fashioned’, or in other words, whiskey, sugar, and water.

She obviously has a stronger tolerance to alcohol than I do, because I could never handle the extreme burn of whiskey going down my throat. Other things maybe, but definitely not that.

The drinks arrive, and the girl from before, who, upon reading her name tag, appears to be Arabella.

She takes our orders, and apologizes for any delays, the restaurant appears to be quite busy. I look around and take note of the ‘noble looking’ people surrounding the table we’re sat at. We don’t look nearly as rich as them.

“Y/N? What do you want to order?” I’m snapped out of my trance by Lou and brought back into reality. I look at her, and back down at the menu that rests in my hands. ‘Gnocchi di Patate’. That sounds delicious. But wait, $34.99?? How is she getting all of this money?

I open my mouth after some time and tell the waitress what I want. She writes it down, and tells us it may be a while, and to enjoy our drinks.

“So,” Lou starts. She rubs her foot up my leg, making me squirm slightly at the feeling. “I thought you deserved a treat for being such a good girl.”

I look into her eyes. Completely blown out. I can’t help but the small smirk on my face, knowing all to well how this will end: with me bent over,screaming her name, her hand muffling the noise.

“Are you not gonna say anything? Daddy paid a lot of money for this, I think I deserve to at least hear your voice.” I look down, not being able to carry out the eye contact. She continues to rub my leg underneath the table. Good thing there’s a satin mat, covering the whole length of the table, down to the floor.

“I-“ words weren’t an option at this point. My mind is far too small at the moment to even comprehend anything else but the husky voice of the older woman across from me.

“What? Cats got your tongue?,” She starts, staring at me like she’s the predator and I’m her delicious little prey.

“,or are you just too dumb to use your words?” Continues Lou, sending me into a serene headspace. My mind is completely blank, besides the vision of the woman across from me.

TIME SKIP

We finish up with our food, no words being exchanged between Lou and I. Just her speaking to me. Telling me that she thinks I’m beautiful, though some ways more appropriate than others.

The check arrives and she pulls out her platinum card, swiping it. I can’t help but feel bad that she spent that much on me, between the cost of my drink, and the food.

“You ready?” She inquired.

“Mhm.”

I appear to be shy, but in reality, I’m extremely horny. She’s been teasing me all night, and I just know that there’s more in store. If not at home, she’s likely to get impatient and do her business in the car.

Buckling into the car seat, she revs up the engine. I look up at her, smiling innocently with my signature doe eyes. Unlike my own, her eyes are completely blown out. She’s more that ready to pounce when given the chance. Pounce being her having her way with me; not that I’d have a problem with that.

Lou’s hand once again finds its spot on my thigh, where it remains for the duration of the car ride, occasionally feeling a squeeze every now and then.

“I really don’t like how quiet you’re being,” Lou confronts, the once silent car ride no longer.

“What’s wrong?”

Silence.

I just can’t get any words out. Even if I were to try, the only thing that’ll come out is a string of whimpers and sounds. Words just aren’t an option at this moment.

Then, the whirring of the car’s engine stops, Her key taken out of the fob. Lou turns to me, hands still on my body.

“Baby. Did I do something? Daddy would feel terrible if she hurt her baby.” Her hands wander up my legs, stopping at the end of my dress.

Soft hands caress my calf, smiling as she knows what she’s doing.

“Lou.. not in the car…” I say in an extremely small voice, the headspace Lou has created for me completely taking over my mind.

“Fine,” she opens the car door, walking to my side, opening the door for me. “Inside. I want you on the bed, stripped.” The older woman said in her husky voice.

Once we made it up to her apartment, she unlocked the door, and I made a b-line to the bedroom.

Taking one last look in the mirror, I slip off my dress and take off my shoes, revealing a matching white lingerie set:

Climbing on top of Lou’s bed, I wait patiently for her return.

“I guess you are a good girl then,” Lou says, the door slowly creeping open. “, and I see you’re wearing my present.”

Lou bought me this set a while back to celebrate her and Debbie’s successful heist. I’ve never been a huge fan of her job, but she enjoys it, so I can’t see a problem with that.

Slow steps, excruciatingly slow, inch their way toward me. “Nothing to say, huh?” Now crawling on top of me, I can’t help but let out a small whine.

Lou chuckles at my pathetic sound, enjoying the power she has against me and my body.

“You know,” The older woman starts, huskily. “I wish I could get you to tell me what’s up.”I want to speak; say something, anything, but I know the only thing that would come out is my silent pleas, and a string of cries.

She scoffs at my silence. My eyes are burning from the tears that threaten to fall, my mind and body so sexually frustrated. “I suppose we’re going to have to do this the hard way.”

[lcandothisallday]

auston leaving the arena and noticing you and your friends waiting outside to meet the players or sum and he’s literally like love at first sight and starts flirting and gets ur number 😭 lmao for us realistic toronto girlies obvs - ⛽️

hehe obvs😋❤️ thanks for feeding into my delusions🥰 Auston Matthews x f!reader

You stood next to your friends, your hands in your jacket pocket as you shivered from the cold. It was near the start of the season and the weather in Toronto was getting colder by the day--fitting for the sport, but not for you as you stood outside the arena in hopes of meeting the players.

"Guys--I don't know if it's worth it anymore--"

"Y/N I don't think you get it," your friend Emily started. "If I don't meet Mitch Marner before I go back to BC--I'm gonna dig my own grave," she said with such seriousness in her voice--yet her teeth were also chattering from the cold. Emily had moved to BC soon after she got her masters and she was only back in town for a little bit for her mom's birthday and to watch the game.

She was a huge fan to say the least. Growing up watching the NHL and even playing for her local girls team. Unlike you--you had only got into it recently, never having that same influence while growing up.

"You can't reason with a girl in love," your other friend Olivia mused with a laugh. You merely roll your eyes and dig your hands further into your pocket.

"I just don't think they're gonna come ou--oh my god," you breath our, your jaw dropping as you see two men resembling Mitch and Auston in the distance coming out of a back door.

"Oh my God!!" Emily screeched, jumping up and down. "Miiiitchhh!"

Mitch being the ever sweet golden retriever he is, excitedly walked over while Auston begrudgingly dragged behind him with a sigh. He was tired, his body aching from a harsh slam he took and all he wanted was to grab dinner with Mitch at their favourite restaurant before going home and collapsing into his bed with Felix by his side.

Mitch with a wide smile, approached Emily, feeding off of her excitement as he spoke to her and entertained her with a selfie.

Meanwhile, Auston was about to let out an annoyed breath when his eyes wandered over to you, unable to tear his gaze away. He was captivated by your beauty, your warmth radiating even in the chilly evening air. As Mitch continued chatting with Emily, Auston excused himself, making his way toward you where you stood off to the side watching your friends interact.

"So you're not a fan of Mitchy's?" he teased in question playfully, causing your eyes to widen in panic.

"Oh no I--I am!" you stutter in defence, your cheeks burning up at the accusation. "I'm just a new fan and didn't wanna seem like...a fake one," you admit bashfully, looking away.

Auston smirked, his confidence radiating off of him as he watched you squirm. If he was honest, he thought it was adorable and he loved how sincere you sounded.

"You didn't grow up with the game I'm assuming?" he asked, wanting to know more about you.

"Yeah...my parents are from a hot country...hockey is probably the last sport they'd be interested in," you say with a laugh. "So that's why my knowledge is limited."

He laughed and gave you a slight nod. "Well, you don't have to worry about that with me," Auston replied, leaning casually against the wall next to you. "I won't judge you for being a new fan. In fact, I think it's great that you're getting into the sport."

You couldn't help but feel a mix of nervousness and excitement as Auston continued to flirt with you. His charming smile and the way he effortlessly carried himself made it hard for you to resist his charm.

"Thanks," you replied, trying to hide your growing smile. "You're a lot more cute in person," you breathed out, your cheeks heating up immensely at your admission.

Auston's smirk widened, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh, so now we're moving on to compliments, huh?" he teased, his voice laced with playful sarcasm. "Well, I have to say, you're not so bad yourself. Actually, you're more than just cute. You're downright stunning."

Your heart fluttered at his words, a blush spreading across your cheeks. You had never expected Auston Matthews, a professional hockey player and known heartthrob, to flirt with you so openly. It was an exhilarating feeling, and you found yourself getting caught up in the moment.

As you go to respond, Mitch walks over and interrupts. "Hey--I made the rounds. We can go now."

You reluctantly tore your gaze away from Auston, feeling a mix of disappointment and anticipation for what could have been. Mitch's interruption reminded you that this encounter was likely just a fleeting moment, and you had to make the most of it.

"It was nice meeting you," you smiled.

Mitch looked between the two of you with an amused smirk and a raised eyebrow, catching on to the flirty tension. "Wait--aren't you gonna introduce me to your new friend?" he teased.

At that, Auston's eyes widened. "Shit--I never caught your name," he pointed out with a bashful smile. Mitch rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Y/N," you giggled in response.

"Did you at least get her number?" Mitch asked, Auston shaking his head no. "Dude! It's like you have no game!"

"I was working on it!" Auston exclaimed.

Mitch scoffed and shook his head in feign disappointment as he snatched Auston's phone out of his hand, unlocking it and opening up his contacts. "No clearly you've lost your skills and I gotta be your dating coach now," he continued to tease, before he handed the phone to you to put in your information.

You continued to giggle as you did just that while Auston blushed madly.

As you entered your name and number into Auston's phone, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. Mitch's playful teasing added to the lighthearted atmosphere, and you found yourself growing more comfortable in their presence.

"There you go, Auston," you said with a mischievous smile as you handed the phone back to him. "Now you can call or text me anytime."

Auston's cheeks turned a deeper shade of red, but he flashed you a grateful smile. "Thanks, Y/N. I'll definitely be in touch."

Mitch raised an eyebrow and nudged Auston. "See, buddy? It's not that hard."

Auston rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of amusement in his expression. "Yeah, yeah, Coach Marner. I'll try to step up my game."

You looked off to the side, noticing your friends were now the ones waiting for you. "I think I've gotta go...like I said, it was nice meeting you," you smiled, taking the courage to step forward and press a light kiss to his cheek. "You guys played amazing tonight," you say softly and with sincerity.

As you pulled away from the gentle kiss on Auston's cheek, you noticed a flicker of surprise in his eyes, followed by a genuine smile. "I'll text you."

"I'll hold you to it, Matthews."

[vicsnook]

Tis the Damn Season | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

word count: 1318

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, 18+

notes: Hey y’all! I know its been a while, I’ve been dealing with a huge writers block but had this little idea while on the plane. Please forgive any errors, I didn’t read it back before posting it. Happy Holidays!

With your dad sick this Christmas it’s not surprising your mom would asked you to come home. So here you were, pulling into the familiar driveway taking notice of the Bronco parked in your neighbors yard, one you knew all too well.

A note taped to the refrigerator reminded you your parents would be back from the hospital tomorrow. Maybe a drink could make the night better you thought but the liquor cabinet was of course empty and the town doesn’t sell alcohol on Sundays. So that’s how you ended up walking through the doors of the only bar in town.

“Is that who I think it is?” Bradley Bradshaw hollered from behind the bar as you made your way to him. His hair was definitely a little longer and he sported the mustache he joked about growing all through high school. The years had been if anything, very kind to him.

“Hey Rooster, I didn’t know you worked here.” You said, taking a seat across from him, truth is if you’d known, you would’ve never come here. “I’m just helping Ronnie out ‘til my leave is over. Want your usual?” He asked, offering you a half-smile while his dark brown eyes burned into yours. “Sur- Sure,” you managed to stammer out. Memories of the last time you were here flooding back in as you watched him prepare your drink.

“So, you here for long?” He asked between customers and while you know he’s just trying to not make things awkward, you can’t help the knot forming in your throat. “Just for the week.”

“Bradley! Over here honey! More shots!” shouted a blonde from the other side of the bar before he could reply and you sighed gratefully for the distraction. Setting down the cash for your tab and booking it out the bar while he went to her table.

Your hands were shaky as you pried open the car handle and tried to start the car. This was a bad idea you muttered to yourself over as you turned the key. The radio announced a snowstorm tonight and as if on cue your mother called to say they wouldn’t be able to come home ‘til the roads cleared.

—

Waking up freezing in your childhood bedroom was definitely not great. Power had gone out due to the storm and you had no wood for the fireplace. Dreadfully, you made your way to your neighbors to see if they had any to spare. Regretting not putting on another jacket and better shoes. You eyed the bronco that was almost fully covered by snow while waiting on someone to open the door.

“Y/N?” Murmured a confused looking Bradley. You wondered how he could be shirtless and just in sweats in this cold weather.

“Hey, sorry to bother, power’s out and we have no wood for the fireplace.” You said through your chattering teeth. “Let’s talk inside,” he replied, ushering you inside the candle lit living room.

The room looked just as it did 3 years ago when you broke off your engagement to Bradley. He was dead set on joining the Navy and refused to hear yours and Carole’s pleas to not follow in his fathers footsteps. “Mom doesn’t have any extra wood. You can stay, though, not sure when power will be back.” Said Bradley as he came back from the back porch where Maverick stocked wood for Carole every winter.

“Thank you, so how’s everything?” You said, taking a seat on the couch. Silently praying the power would come back on. “Great, just working all the time. I graduated from Top Gun a few months ago.” His eyes bore deep into your as he mentioned Top Gun. You’d had nightmares about him being in the Academy since Carole told you.

“Oh um, that's great. I’m sure your dad would be really proud.” You regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth. Bradley’s face reddened with what you could only assume was anger.

“Don’t you dare say that Y/N, not after you and mom tried to use what happened to him to change my mind.” He hissed, sending shivers down your spine. Bradley was never quick to anger unless his dad was brought up. “I’m -I’m so sorry Bradley, I didn’t mean to upset you. I should go.” You stammered, getting up and rushing for the front door.

“Wait,” He grabbed hold of your hand before you made it into the foyer, Spinning you around and onto his chest. Being this close to him again had your heart nearly beating out of your chest. “I’m sorry, I know you didn’t mean any harm. It’s just Mav tried to pull my papers and I almost didn’t even get to go to the Academy.” He muttered, you could smell the mint in his breath from how close his face was to yours. He placed a lock of your hair behind your ear, making the words catch in your throat. “I’ve missed you, Y/N.”

Those brown eyes that you’ve missed for 3 years now were staring intently into yours, waiting for an answer. Before you knew it, you were pulling his face down to yours and kissing the warmest lips you’ve ever known.

Your hands explored his unclothed torso as the kiss intensified and he pulled off your jacket. “I’ve missed you too,” you whispered in between kisses.

He pulled your pajama shirt off and slowly guided you back into the living room. Setting you down carefully on the couch. Your hands tugged his sweatpants down and you were grateful for his lack of underwear. Taking his hard cock into your hands and pumping it. “S-Slow down honey,” he moaned into your ear. He pulled your pajama shirt off as you shimmied off your pants. “Red? Merry Christmas to me.” He muttered, pulling down your red panties that you had a hunch you would not get to keep.

“I need you,” You moaned in his ear as he toyed with your clit. He slid the head of his cock between your folds, slowly pushing it in. You threw your head back in pleasure, no one else felt as good as him.

Your nails dug into his back as he picked up the pace and kissed your neck. Leaving a trail of hickeys that you’d definitely have to cover up tomorrow. “You feel so good baby,” he moaned, playing with your clit and increasing the pace of his thrusts.

Feeling your orgasm getting closer you grabbed on to his biceps, trying to help increase his pace. He knew so well what you wanted as he thrusted harder and faster into you now. You moved his thumb from your clit and took over, trying to reach that high you desperately needed. “Cum for me babygirl,” He whispered, watching as you came undone under him. Your legs trembling as his thrusts became sloppier and his release followed soon after inside you.

Bradley stood up once he had caught his breath, offering you a hand to help you clean up. His cum running down your legs as you hurried behind him in the candle lit house. He ran a bath and climbed in, motioning for you to get in with him.

He kissed your back as he scrubbed you gently with the sponge. You loved the comfortable silence that had fallen between you both as he finished scrubbing you. Regret was starting to seep into your mind about leaving him, knowing the heart you broke was your own.

“I miss you Y/N, I know I can’t ask you to wait and you can’t ask me to stay but can we at least have this week?” He asked quietly, your heart aching at his request. “Of course,” you whispered back in response, knowing how hard it’d be at the end of the week to leave the warmest bed you’d ever known.

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