#one of whom is his teammate

[sleepytiredrobot]

Scar and the illegal triple kill:

#limited life spoilers #limited life smp spoilers #traffic spoilers #limited life #gtws #listen it's so funny he managed to get a triple kill on two people who he was not supposed to be able to kill because they were also yellow #one of whom is his teammate #and then also the one afk person on the server

[soapisahimbo]

Jealousy - Simon 'Ghost' Riley Headcanons

Hi can I request any jealous/ possessive ghost head canons? NSFW PREFERABLY. Where he gets jealous and tries to distance the team from being too touchy with you or even to joke around with you. But they don’t know y’all are dating of course. So he has to fight his feelings and eventually taking it out on you if you know what I mean wink*wink*. Or the things he’ll do to show the others that you are his only and that’s when they got the clue. Please?

Wow, I'll admit, this was a bit of a challenge. Also I wrote it as a headcanon list, I hope that's what you were aiming for! I was honestly a bit unsure on how to approach this, and I'm a little unsure about how it turned out, but I genuinely hope that you enjoy it!

Containts heavy smut elements, so minors stay away!

warnings: simon is a jealous bitch, it gets rough, borderline dubcon, genderneutral reader/genderneutral anatomy

Simon has no lack of faith and trust in you. He has a number of peculiarities for sure, but he knows you'd never betray him or go behind his back. It's a trust you worked hard to gain, and it was hard work that he recognizes and appreciates. You've proven time and time again that you're safe in many ways and while he's always prepared for the worst, he's also an excellent judge of character. He can read you like an open book.

Simon has no lack of faith and trust in his team either. He'd never say it out loud, but they are his brothers in arms and he is ready and willing to kill and to die for them, just as they are for him. He's not exactly eager to show his appreciation for them, but they take what they can get, even if it sometimes is just a mere glance. Now, don't misunderstand - he appreciates that you and his teammates get along, and he knows that if something were to happen to him, they'd keep you safe. But he is a man of instinct, and he has a tendency to get a bit territorial, for lack of a better word.

You know he has a bit of a... jealous streak, to say the least. He doesn't try to control you, because his gripes are not with you. He might loom and he might grumble, but he likes seeing you getting dressed up, he likes seeing you having a good time, he enjoys seeing you laugh and joke around. As far as he's concerned, you can do no wrong. No, his gripes are not with you - never with you. They are, however, with everybody else that even glances your way.

Kyle and Johnny are both very friendly by nature - they're probably the most easygoing members both in and outside the task-force. They're the type of people that others trust and want to hang out with, and they also consider you a good friend, whom they like to hang out and banter with. They do seem to have a habit of hogging you though, much to Simon's chagrin, and while you can make it up to him most of the time, he doesn't find it any less infuriating when they whisk you away for you to witness their latest ideas and trinkets.

They are also flirts by nature. Simon knows this because they inadvertently flirt with each other, as well as himself, any other teammates outside the task force and even Price at some points, mostly through jokes. They could probably flirt with a brick wall as far as he's concerned. Which is why he can almost overlook it when they turn their cunning charms onto you. Almost.

No one knows about Simon and yours relationship, not even Price. He's made it a point to keep it on the low for the safety of both of you, and you couldn't exactly argue - it made sense considering the line of work. It seemed as if though you had to remind him of this several times whenever hands and eyes that weren't his own seemed to wander a bit too much for his liking - "you can't hold it against them," you'd say, "they don't even know." And he knows you're right, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want to hold it against them.

Despite all this, he keeps himself in check fairly well. No one can tell if he's just staring normally or glaring daggers at others anyways, so he gets away with dreaming about stringing them up by their balls at any time. Or rather, he keeps himself in check fairly well - until he has you for himself.

You'd tease him about it, but it's kind of difficult to even form coherent thoughts once he's pounding into you like his life depends on it. The second you're alone with him, you best believe he's making the most of it. He'll cover your mouth to keep you from making too much noise (although you're not sure that ever helps because just the sound of him fucking you is loud enough anyways) and he growls into your ear things like "you're mine and mine alone," "one day I'll fucking bend you over right in front of those fucking idiots and show them who you belong to," "they think they can fuck you as good as I do," "I bet those fuckheads would kill to get a chance to make you cum this fucking hard."

He tries to keep them away from you, subtly in order to not draw attention to it, even though it doesn't always work, and he'd rather just kick them in the head. Places himself between them and you, keeps you close to him, gives excuses as to why you should be stationed with him, why you should be assigned to him and his missions - anything he can think of. He also has a penchant for interrupting others when they're trying to talk to you, coming up with something to send them away. You yourself are honestly surprised no one's caught on at this point, but that might because no one knows him quite as intimately as you do.

Every day that anyone has managed to get in the way for him always ends the same. If you could keep track of the time he spends fucking your brains out, you'd probably be concerned, but he doesn't give you any chance to gather your thoughts once he has you. If he's really pissed, he might start taking risks - dumb risks, if you had anything to say about it, but he rarely listens, and he knows exactly what weak spots to touch on to get you to give in.

He's pinned you against a door a number of times, somehow managing to stay deathly quiet while fucking you thoroughly with practically all of his teammates standing on the other side, completely oblivious to what's going on behind just a couple of inches of wood. He once fucked you just around the corner from an open hangar door, and if any of the people walking by had thrown a look in your direction, they would've seen you bent over, pants pulled down to your knees and with Simon's iron grip on your hips.

So far though, he's managed to keep it discreet, despite his hotheadedness. Never leaves any marks where anyone can see them, helps you stay on your feet if you're in a place where you have to be, makes excuses to do things for you so that you don't have to get up out of your seat - although he can't deny that a part of him wants everyone else to see what he's done with you. He wants to mark your neck and chest all over for everyone to see, he wants everyone to see you stumble when you walk on shaky legs after he's done with you. He's had to fight the urge to just throw you onto the table whenever the force invites you in for a poker night and fuck you in front of them, just so that they can see that only he can have you.

But he mainly keeps it to himself. You'd be far too pissed at him if he pulled a stunt like that for it to be worth it. In fact, he reached a point where he was almost fine with at least Johnny and Kyle being their usual selves with you (to a point, of course). He almost got over it. Until, of course, the idiot with the mohawk decided to push it a bit further than he usually did.

The outcome can be blamed on a number of things, really. 141 had been away for an extended period of time, long enough for Simon to reach for his phone and send you some heated messages nearly every day for the last week, which was rare. So when he was finally coming back to you, finally able to spend as much time as he wanted in bed with you, when he steps off of that goddamn fucking helicopter to finally be greeted by you, what happens? John 'Soap' FuckTavish runs full speed ahead to you, wraps his dumb fucking arms around your waist, hoists you up in a fucking hug and plants a big fucking kiss on your cheek. Numerous times, mind you!

While you were indeed happy to see him and the rest of the team, you could tell that Simon had reached an instant boiling point. If you didn't know any better, you would've thought that he was about to blow Johnny's brains out then and there, but instead he simply walked up to you, grabbed Johnny by the shoulder and just about yanked him away from you.

"Maybe take a shower before you start rubbin' your stink all over everyone else, Sergeant," he said, pushing Johnny away. Wow, smooth, you thought to yourself, but Johnny seemed to take it in stride and laughed. "Gee, sorry, LT. Just happy to be back with a good friend is all." And as a final nail in the coffin, he winked at you before strutting away.

Kyle and Price greeted you as well as they passed by, Kyle also giving you a warm and tight hug, rocking you back and forth, and you could practically feel the heat radiating from Simon where he stood. Once they'd moved on, you turned to him with a sheepish smile. "Hi, baby," you said as sweetly as you could.

He grabbed you by the jaw, squeezing your cheeks so that your lips puckered; firm, but not rough. He leaned in close, his eyes fixated on you. "I've had it," he said and while you weren't exactly sure what he meant, you knew that there was something in store.

He picked you up and threw you over your shoulder and you were suddenly aware of the fact that there were still people around to witness this very unusual display from Simon 'Ghost' Riley. He carried you through the hallway that lead to his room and people were gawking at you as you tried to protest, tried to remind him that no one's supposed to know, that you need to be discreet about this, but how could you say all that without giving everything away when everyone could hear you? So you tried to just act like you didn't know what was going on, asking him what he was doing, where he was taking you, why he was doing this, but he didn't say a word. You're pretty sure that far more than you were comfortable with watched as he carried you into his room and locked the door.

He threw you onto his bed and tore his mask off, throwing it onto the floor with such force that you thought he broke it. "Simon, what the hell?!" you said, watching him take his gear off and haphazardly toss it to the side. "I thought we were keeping this shit secret!" But he didn't seem to listen. He simply stared at you with some combination of lust and anger as he stripped himself naked in front of you.

He grabbed your ankle and pulled you to the edge of the bed, wrapped your legs around his hips and leaned over you, pinning your hands in one of his above your head. "I've. Had. It." he said again. His other hand moved down to your crotch and pressed, rubbing at you. "I should've fucked you the second I touched ground - maybe then they'd get the fuckin' point."

Everything happened so fast after that - he ripped your shirt off, from the collar and all the way down, and you're pretty sure he broke your belt before he practically ripped your pants off as well. He kept you pinned against the mattress as he relentlessly fingered you, and when you tried to keep quiet he'd only up the intensity, focusing on that exact spot to break you apart. "I'll make them get the point, how's that?" he grumbled and spat at your hole, staring as if hypnotized.

You had no idea how long he'd had you just like this, eventually with both hands working you past the edge over and over again, but you were pretty sure that if you came just one more time you'd pass out, and he hadn't even fucked you properly yet.

At some point, you were vaguely aware of him lifting your hips up, placing your ankles on his shoulders before you felt him push into you and you thought you felt a part of your mind break. You didn't have any energy left to try and keep quiet anymore, so any moans and cries that worked their way up from your chest were let out freely and loudly as he pounded into you. Between the biting and the sucking all over your neck and chest and whatever other parts his mouth could reach, you thought you heard Simon praise you for every sound you let out.

His grip was sure to leave bruises on your hips, but he found that he had little concern about it as he watched your eyes roll back. With how he was handling you, he'd wondered if you'd mark him up the same if he asked you - it would only be fair, and he would be more than happy to wear any branding that you'd put on him. But for now, he'd put his on you.

He gripped the back of your knees, pushing them up to your chest and pushed himself deeper into you. He growled all sorts of dirty exclamations about how you looked, how you sounded, how you felt and how now no one would dare to lay a finger on you again. He fucked into you with reckless abandon, eventually pushing all the way into you to cum as deep into you as he could before pulling out and using his hands once more, fingering his cum back into as it leaked out.

You came one last time with a loud and near pornographic cry, the world flashed white, and before you knew it, you were held up in a warm stream of water in the shower, Simon's calloused hands stroking you gently to wash all the fluids off of you. "Aren't you such a good doll for me, baby?" he mumbled. "So good..."

You were littered with hickeys and bite-marks, painfully sore all over in the best sort of way, so weak in the legs that your knees were still shaking and you could barely stand. "The fuck got into you?" you managed to breathe out. "I'd be surprised if the entire fucking complex didn't hear us." Simon simply grinned. "Good. Maybe now everyone will know to keep their fucking hands off."

You were incredibly pissed at him once you saw yourself in the mirror, yelling at him and telling him that there is no way you can go out there looking like this. You scolded him, unsure if he even cared, but he dutifully went out to grab you some new clothes to replace the ones he ripped apart when you demanded him to.

The following week or so was incredibly stiff, both literally and figuratively. People would nearly sprint out of the room if you entered, trying not to pay any attention to your awkward walk, and you practically banned Simon from sex until you could sit down properly ("Plus an extra week!" you had added, just to get your point across) and all the marks had faded from your skin. Simon did make it up to you, being extra sweet on you, massaging any and every sore spot you had regardless of if he had caused them or not, running errands to make sure you didn't have to leave your spot.

As for the task force... for as long as they could see the hickeys on your neck, Kyle and Johnny tried every excuse they could think of to not look too much at you, or they told you that they had somewhere to be before awkwardly stumbling off under the glare of your boyfriend. Price himself was also a bit awkward, but for the most part, his reaction consisted of calling Simon into his office and scolding him for "causing a ruckus". He also threw in a "and for fuck's sake, don't break them - I'd rather not have to write that report!"

Simon did appear to be pleased with the results, however. Everyone steered clear of you, with the slight exception of his teammates, but even they were treading carefully. He barely even had to do anything. A bonus was that anyone that tried to be an asshole to you also kept their distance, which even you could agree was at least one positive thing to come out of the whole ordeal. At least he'd gotten it out of his system. For now.

#cod mw2 #cod x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley smut

[pinkslaystation]

Tulips or Roses?

John Price x reader

In which you find John's old diary detailing his love for you his teammate and you begin to question his love for you. Word Count: 3.6k

Being a civilian to a soldier was hard enough.

And it was even harder when your husband was a commander for one of the most skillful task force. So it wasn't unusual for him to be gone for long periods of time.

So on a random Friday evening, anticipating his arrival in the coming week, vacuuming the floors, cleaning the windows, you found yourself at the door of John's study, with was decorated with a glass name plate, with the words 'Study' accompanied with a painted heart created from blue and pink fingerprints from you and your husband.

John was never the man to tell you off if you entered his study, instead he encouraged it. He's beckoned you to bring him his evening tea to him, to give him a massage, sometimes when you wanted him, he'd allow you to help him under the desk, if you get what I mean. (speaking from experience ;>)

As you stepped into his room, you noticed the ceilings adorned with sizable white cobwebs, cringing at the apparent neglect of his study. When was the last time someone had even been here?

Sweeping his desk, wiping away the dust, you find a box underneath beside his chair, which prompted you to lifting it up and placing on top of the desk. Man, you underestimated it's weight. You struggled to lift a small but heavy moving box, and it caused a few books and papers to fall out.

You cursed at your clumsiness, picking up the loose sheets, until you fingers caught the spine of a red vintage-like book, which had the word 'diary' written on the front. You didn't take too much notice, skimming through the pages until you caught your name being mentioned a phew times.

You giggle, it's a diary probably with John confessing his love to you numerous time! You know you probably shouldn't look through it, I mean privacy exists, but you just can't help it.

So you look through some of the infrequent entries, the oldest dating back to 10 years back, and the most recent one being nearly 4 years, when you and John had first met.

30th February 2010

Suffering in Afghanistan, the lads and I are stuck in the safe house for a week now. Rose is here too, I should ask her if she's okay.

Ahhh you remember this story. When the Task Force was stuck in the city of Kandahar, in the safe house. You also remember John's team, whom you are well-acquainted with, Soap, Ghost, Gaz, Roach, Rose?

You skip through the boring entries, most of which are just John documenting his work-out plan and the places him and his team had visited.

5th July 2016

Gaz's going on and on about his lass. Someone tell him to talk to her at least, he doesn't even know her name! I keep bringing it up but he keeps mentioning when I'll talk to Rose.

You chuckled, assuming the chick was Gaz's current wife. But the last part caught your attention, Rose again? You remember John telling you that she'd retired, went back north to settle with her family now, so you don't think much of it, I mean they are team mates.

19th June 2017

Saw a cute kid and her mama, wishing I had kids, without this lifestyle. Rose wants a son but I don't particularly mind. Soap overheard our conversation and spammed me lols on Whatsapp, but I thought lol meant little old lady? I am a man though.

You raise your eyebrow at another mention of Rose, why doesn't he care if Rose wanted a son? You didn't realise how close your husband was to her.

2nd December 2018

Christmas this month with my boys. Rose invited me over for a smoke. Ghost rolls his eyes when I mentioned it to him, says I need to man up and make a move.

You squinted your eyes, rereading the entry, and hesitantly skipping to the next one.

7th April 2019

Drinks with my men (and Rose haha, she doesn't like being part of the men). It's her birthday and she wants to tell us something. She's got her red lips again. I'm excited, Soap kept nudging me the entire ride, that cheeky bugger.

Then immediately below it, an update: She's seeing someone.

You're slowly piecing the puzzle, though you don't want to assume anything.

21st August 2019

She came into my room crying, seems like it's not going well, good for me. I hope she's okay and she realises there's better fish in the sea. She hugged me, she smells like roses, I love floral scents. I tried leaning in, she says I'm like an older brother to her.

Your heart breaks a bit, sniffing at your freshly washed hair, which smelt like ... like roses.

You thought floral scents were YOUR thing.

You continued, to the next entry which was marked the date you remember meeting John for the first time at the pub. You force a smile, hoping the entry would lighten your mood.

30th November 2020

In the pub and bored. Rose brought her lad... they're back together. What does she see in him? Soap urges me to find someone else but my heart is set on someone, for a long time. Won't change. He keeps gesturing to a girl on the other end of the counter, she's pretty, but like a tulip. Not like a rose. Not like my Rose.

You grip at the notebook and you try your hardest not to rip the papers out of the book and set his entire study on fire.

You remember this day, when you were dragged to the pub by your friends after being dumped by your ex for another girl. You sat at one end of the counter, with tears in your eyes but one look at that buff Englishman on the other end and your mood flipped instantaneously, 180 degrees.

"Kelsey, look at that guy, Mr Army over there." You beckon towards John's direction, to your friend., slightly tipsy after a peg of beer.

Your friend looks at you with a raised eyebrow, then turns to the guy whose piqued your interest, "You should go for it." She encourages you.

So you get yourself 2 drinks and approach the guy, more confident that usual due to your alcoholic state. A beer would do.

"Hi, this seat empty?" You smile at him innocently.

All this time you had recalled a look of fondness towards you, when he'd first locked eyes with you. You remember bragging about how it had been love at first sight for the both of you, but thinking back, a feeling of doubt starts bubbling inside you.

"It's reserve- you know what. Take a seat."

You remember sitting next to him, passing him a drink, and telling him your name, "...and you are?" you question, although you see him wincing. At first you thought it was just an army thing, so guarded that even the slightest of movements would make him twitch.

But now you're questioning whether he really wanted to engage into a conversation with you.

The following hours, as you painfully recall, was filled with you talking about yourself and occasionally asking him after his life, though he gives you one word answers and frequent nods.

But that was just because he'd just come home from a mission right?

"...and he just broke up with me out of the blue! Like was my 12,000 followers on TikTok not good enough for you?" You chuckle, attempting to crack a joke. He smiles confused, and you note he's probably too old to understand what TikTok was.

"Sounds like an asshole, love." He replies.

"Hmm, he was...I- I just don't know what he'd leave me for her...like I gave you my everything, I was always with you through thick and thin and what, that wasn't enough for you?" You trail off, the effects of the 2nd beer hitting you.

"I understand dove, you just give 'em everything and they just find someone else. What does he have that I don't?" He spaces out, his eyes falling on his teammates sitting at a different table. You follow his gaze, smiling slightly when you lock eyes with one of his smirking subordinates, whom you know know as Soap.

"Those people, they're your team?" You question.

His eyes aren't on you though as he responds, "That mohawk, that's Soap, Ghost next to him, tough as steel but soft at heart, Gaz on the opposite, funny lad, Roach, good ol' Roach..."

You look at the woman to the right of 'Roach', taking in her beauty. Though she's sitting down, you can tell she's taller that you by least 4 inches, with a blonde pixie haircut and painted with a dark smokey eye. A deep smirk is plastered onto her plump ruby red lips as she looks at John Price finally talking to a woman that isn't her. She raises a hand, waving to the both of you, which is almost instantaneously reciprocated by John.

"And her?" You ask, head nudging towards the woman.

"Her...That's Rose. You should meet her, you would like her, but who doesn't..." His chuckle fades out and you at how his attention was fully directed to her. A sinking feeling told you that you should have backed off from the married man, but it disappeared when John pointed out her partner, with gritted teeth.

Your hands are gripping the pages at this point, as you recall memories from the diary from his point of view.

You turn the page to the next entry, dreading the words.

19th December 2020

Thought me and Rose would go back to the pub for another drink for the holidays, but she's going back to his place. Seems they're taking the next steps with meeting the families.

Soap's annoyed at how I'm 'ghosting' the girl I met at the pub, I'm once again unfamiliar with the lingo, I'm not Simon?? She's nice but, not sure I see anything further than a friendship. Gaz and him are picking out an outfit for me, she wants to meet up for bowling apparently. I just want to be with Rose...

Clenching your fist, you shut the diary and toss it aside, feeling all kinds of emotions. Upset that John had never truly looked at you the way you'd looked at him. The way he never wanted you, like you wanted him.

Every time you'd seen him online on Whatsapp, but still hadn't opened your messages, he was ghosting you? Sure after a while of being friends, his behaviour gradually changed, accompanied with rapid texts, but you felt like this relationship was built on lies.

Did he even want to go bowling with you that day? Did you win because he purposely let you, because he was bored and wanted to go home, be with Rose instead? When he asked you to be his girlfriend, did he ask you with Rose in mind?

The ding of the oven stopped your trail of thoughts, so many questions swirling around your head. You walk out of the study, slamming the door behind you, the combined mess of dust and cobwebs remaining untouched.

The glass name plate falls to the ground, the edge shattering, with shards of clear glass laying dangerously on the wooden floor.

A couple of hours go by and the doorknob rattles at 8:45 P.M. on the dot. John was never late when he had to come home to you.

He reaches base at 7:30, drives exacting an hour to your shared home, after making a quick pit stop at the florists within 10 minutes to give you a freshly scented bouquet of red roses.

Roses. So that's why he'd give them you every time...

He makes sure to leave him 5 minutes of spare time, which was designated to flipping open a small metal notebook you'd gifted him, and writing his thoughts down. And once those 5 minutes were up, he places the notepad back into his jacket pocket and practically runs towards the front door.

"Dove, I'm home!" He exclaimed, gently placing his belonging on the floor, before walking into the living floor, where you sat on the sofa with your legs and arms crossed. (MY BITCH POSE IS NASTY)

"Sweetheart, you didn't run up to me at the door, you alright love?" He sits next to you, his calloused and freshly bruised arms rubbing your knee.

The silence was deafening and you couldn't find it in yourself to look at him after all you've read.

He takes it as a cue to continue, "I got you some roses, baby. Your favourite-"

"When did I say they were my favourite?"

John blinks at the interruption, "I mean, you don't like them? It's tradition to bring the same red roses for you every time I'm back..."

"And when did I say I liked them? Are they my favourite? Or are they her favourite?" You shift towards him, anger evident in your voice.

"Her? Who? Sweetheart, what's going on?"

"I mean, come on man, you like floral shit that much that now you're making me wear it?"

"You...don't like floral scents? Did you want tulips instead, baby?"

Your eyebrows are furrowed in annoyance by his confusion.

"It doesn't matter if I wanted tulips, John, it's the fact that YOU like roses. In fact you've like Roses this entire time! Don't act like you like tulips 'cos you don't- to be honest I don't think you ever have!" You rant, handing running through your hair.

"I mean I like both honey, roses are just, um, prettier?" He sounds like he's asking you rather than telling you.

"Of course roses are prettier to you- that's all that you're fucking used to you. It's always roses, roses, roses. You're so obsessed with fucking roses, you never gave tulips a bloody chance!"

"Are we still talking about flowers-"

"And when you do give tulips a chance, you're still thinking about roses- how red they are, how pretty they are, how they need to be watered every 5 fucking minutes, even then there's already someone to water those damn. Red. Roses."

"I- I mean I like tulips too, baby-"

"No. You don't. No, you don't. Tulips are just the safest options for you, cos someone already plucked out those fucking roses. Cos roses don't want you."

You're standing up now, and John's attempts to speak are futile with every sentence you shout.

"No. In fact, roses has never wanted you, roses look better with someone else, and ol' poor John has no more roses, so he goes and waters some unwanted tulips instead!"

John stands up, towering over your shaking frame, his hands come up to stroke your biceps, but he's pushed away.

"I mean, did John ever even like tulips? Or was he faking it cos he never got roses? Was tulips just the safe option? Does John still want roses after all the years tulips have been there for him?"

You left out a pained cry, you didn't even notice the tears leaking out of your eyes.

"Does John even like tulips? Does John even love tulips?"

His hands wipe your tears away, and he brings you into his chest, and you don't attempt to push him away this time.

"Does you even love me, John?" You break down into his arms, letting him carrying you into the bedroom, where he places you gently on the bed, while you hiccup through your uneven sobs. He smells the stench of wine through your shaking breath, whilst stroking your hair, and you slowly fall into a deep slumber with your head pressed against his still uniform-clad chest.

The clock hits midnight and John gets up, trying not to wake you up, grabbing his sweats from the drawer and walking to the bathroom across the hall, in order to not wake you up, from what looked like a well-needed rest.

As he trudges out of the bedroom and through the corridor, the reflection of the broken glass catches his eyes and he squints in the darkness, squatting down to pick a small shard. As he lifts the remains of the nameplate, hooking it back to the door, he steps over the mess into the study to retrieve a dust pan and brush.

Flicking the lights on, he's met with what looks like a scene from the reality TV show - Hoarders. So starts cleaning quickly, picking up the duster and bunching up the paperwork from the floor, the pot of pens that had seemed to be knocked down, the diary he'd used to write in...hold on-

Picking up the diary, John flicks through the entries, the book naturally opening to the last open slide.

He begins reading the last entry.

19th December 2020

Thought me and Rose would go back to the pub for another drink for the holidays, but she's going back to his place. Seems they're taking the next steps with meeting the families.

Soap's annoyed at how I'm 'ghosting' the girl I met at the pub....

"Oh...my tulip, I've never loved roses as much as I loved you." He mumbles to himself, whilst simultaneously cringing at his previously written words, immediately throwing the book back on the floor.

It's past breakfast when you wake up, throat and eyes painfully dry from last night's crying session, forcing yourself to drag yourself to the bathroom. You've forgotten that John had come home last night, as your met with a familiar empty bed.

After brushing your teeth and washing your face, you walk downstairs, being face to face with the naked back of Captain John Price.

The smell of chocolate pancakes waft towards your nose, as you look around the kitchen, the room garnished with a variety of different flowered bouquets, with so many variations of plants.

Bundles of dahlias and lotuses, orchids and lilies, carnations and irises, roses and tulips.

John turns to your footsteps, smiling at his perfect woman.

"Baby, good mornin'" He greets you, placing a single rose into your hair, and pecking your forehead warmly.

"John, listen about last night-"

"It was the old diary, wasn't it?" he asks.

You nod, ashamed for your abrupt behaviour yesterday. John lifts your chin up, resting his forehead against yours.

"Rose never taught me how to love like you did."

"John, you don-" His pointer finger is pressed against your lips.

"Reading those words from the past, I can see how it may have painted a different picture of my feelings. But let me assure you, my love, that you are the one I adore with all my heart."

Your stroke his face, heart warming to his words.

"Every rose I brought home was a symbol of my love for you, not because it was her favorite, but because it reminded me of the beauty and grace that you bring into my life. And those tulips, they represent the new beginnings and the fresh start that we share together.

My love for you is unwavering and unconditional. You are my tulip, my true love, and I vow to cherish and adore you for all eternity. Please forgive me for any pain or doubt my past words may have caused."

"John..."

He hands you his notepad from from his back pocket, beckoning you to open it.

You look at the first entry.

19th February 2021

I mentioned how I journal sometimes to her, and she bought me a new notepad, it's cute how she calls it a diary. Things are looking good. Bowling's our thing, I let her win because seeing her smile means I've won too. I'm asking her out tonight, Soap cried real tears when I told him.

You turn the page.

20th July 2021

Our 6 month anniversary. Took her to a field of roses and tulips, though nothing compares to her beauty.

The next one.

17th September 2021

I seldom think of Rose, I have my tulip on my mind now. Rose retired, and the team celebrated last night. She hugged me and thanked me for being a good captain. She also acknowledged my previous feelings for her. Man that was uncomfortable, but I reassured her I'm with my tulip now. I love my tulip.

I've always preferred tulips anyway.

And the next.

5th July 2022

Our 500 day anniversary. I want to propose.

17th September 2022

She said yes!! She may be my fiance, but I've already started calling her my wife, not legally yet at least...illegally?

28rd December 2023

We married 30th November. The day we met. Xmas was amazing, I can't see myself with anyone but her. I'm getting deployed tomorrow though.

You look at the most recent entry, dated last night.

16th February 2024

Missed the valentines day with my missus. Hope these roses are enough, though I wanted to get something better. Tulips for my tulip. They ran out haha. Missed my girl, missed her like I've never missed someone before. Soap's right, deployment suck.

Tears welled up in your eyes, not from pain or doubt this time, but from overwhelming joy and love for the man standing before you.

"I'm sorry, John," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I didn't mean to doubt your love."

He smiled, a genuine and heartfelt smile that reached his eyes, pulling you into a warm embrace. "No need for apologies, my tulip. Thank you for teaching me how to love."

And in that moment, amidst the scent of chocolate pancakes and fresh flowers, it felt like you love story was just beginning, filled with trust, forgiveness, and a deep, unwavering love for each other.

That should not have taken me 2 days to complete what in the world. Also if i was tulip, that old diary is going straight into a fire! Barbecue anyone? <3 Quick Notes: I head-cannoned Rose to look like Sergeant Calhoun from Fix-it-Felix lolololol woman crush fr i get u john boy I've decided to start a tag list! -> lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts! tags -> @lilliumrorum

#call of duty #cod #john price #john price x reader #captain john price #john price angst #john price fluff #task force 141 #captain price

[theweasleytwinsownmyjuicyass]

Wait for you | L.N.

Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Nothing can stand between true love. But what if said love is taken from one's memory?

Warnings: angstt, some fluff:3

Word count: ~2,3K

Lando had been told since he was very little, how time passes slowly when one is not enjoying themselves. But good God, no one could have prepared him for the agony that the past two months have brought into his life. And how it was entirely the play of no one else but the woman he loved that was becoming his ruin.

To put it easier, today marked the start of May, which meant that it has been exactly two months since you were cursed with amnesia following a minor car accident.

How it happened and more importantly why, not even the doctors could tell.

Lando was told that you’d get back most memories in the first few weeks and if that did not happen then the time can be extended into a month for the return of life as they’d known before the accident.

It was only a day later as your eyes set upon your visitor and without any introduction you knew exactly who it was.

“Oscar!” your voice held longing and excitement.

Your best friend was standing in the doorway smiling with all his might, while a certain someone was clearly overlooked. Lando thought that he could burst out sobbing just that moment as your eyes passed over his as if he were only a stranger. And to you he was. Now at least…

That’s how the past two months have been. Lando looking at you looking at Oscar…

You did still spend most of your time in the garages with the McLaren team, but you were there not for Lando and he didn’t know how much longer he could go without telling you all about your past.

‘Screw those damn doctors’, Lando thought. Maybe if he was allowed to remind you, you would be sitting next to him right now, gracing him with one of your brightest smiles and asking him about the car and not Oscar.

Sometimes when Lando is exceptionally tired he forgets that now is a different you than his you. He plops down on the sofa beside you and lays himself down on your thighs. How is it that you always smell so good? Touching you has always held a relaxing nature to Lando and now it was just as splendid. Almost as splendid… Now your hands did not lovingly engulf him in your warmth, there was no kiss on his head, there was only a stiff hand petting his shoulder. Lando felt internal cold radiate from your touch.

Your hugs have gone cold too.

Lando knew that blaming you was wrong as it was in no way your fault. You didn’t choose to forget him but still remember your best friend Oscar. But God, that did not lessen the pain.

Two months. It’s has been two months and Lando has almost no hope left that you’ll ever look at him with a loving gaze again.

He has done it all. Repeated his actions from the past, when he was trying his best to ask you out. It worked last time, it made you fall in love with him, but now it was a dead end as he could see you force a smile on your face each time...

If Lando’s life was not reduced to an absolute nothingness, he also had to watch his teammate and friend win his first title before him. Although that didn’t hurt half as much as watching you, watching Oscar in the same way you used to watch him standing on the podium.

His heart was screaming at you. No! Look here! Just a bit to the right! I’m here! Please see me…

Your eyes did drift to Lando and you did offer him a thumbs up, but the look in your eyes had also drifted, to a new look altogether. Your eyes were no longer reserved only for him and that thought alone took living out of life and turned it into mere existence.

Lando still remembers (how could he ever forget really) the way your soft gaze spoke louder than words could. Your eyes were love personified. And now they were on Oscar, not on him...

If Lando thought his heart broke the moment he saw you in that hospital bed and you had no recollection of whom he was, now it fucking shattered into tiny, tiny pieces.

As more days flew by Lando started losing it. Too early to accept that he’s lost you, too late to get you back… Those were the only thoughts roaming around in his head.

You on the other hand knew nothing of the boy’s torment. To be honest you knew nothing of that certain boy.

If it was not for Oscar, you feel like you would have never even looked twice at someone like Lando Norris. Yes he was gorgeous and had eyes the sweetness of a morning blue sky, but he was also a guy who had everyone’s attention and he drank it up like a thirsty man.

Since you waking up in the hospital, Oscar has been doing everything to acquaint you with Lando. He was never too forceful with making his two friends a pair of friends as well, but he was relentless, never fraying from the task.

Oscar told you things about Lando that were hard to believe at first. Like yes, Lando was a good guy, just as Oscar said, though you could feel how the older man was holding himself back in most occasions as if to not overwhelm you. It made you confused.

Lando Norris confused you.

He’d watch you while you were with Oscar without saying a word, then some other time he could not shut up about something when it was only you and him, which didn’t happen much.

Lando was also a very touchy person, he’d hug you, put his hand around your shoulders or rest his head on your lap after a session.

It was sweet how he seemed to like you so much, but sometimes it felt like there was something more and you were missing that all narrative.

So to repeat, Lando Norris confused you. Intensly.

But you also confused yourself.

It confused you how your own hands would naturally find their place wrapped around his torso or resting on his back whenever he touched you. How your fingers would thoughtlessly tangle themselves in his curls whenever his head rested upon your thighs.

It was all very confusing yet strangely relaxing.

 “Osc?” you looked up from your place on the counter to find your friend wiping sweat away from his face.

“What’s up?” Oscar’s voice was out of breath.

“Is Lando okay?” you watched the older boy stomp out of the garage. His eyes a beautiful storm.

“Agh.. he’s pissed at himself for the mistake on the last lap, heard he was talking himself down on the radio and the interviews,” Oscar let out a sign of concern.

You’ve always been empathic towards other people and you’ve begun caring about Lando even if he was weird at times, but he was Oscar’s friend and certainly really nice to you.

“I feel bad for him… he beats himself up a lot,” your head stayed turned at the direction Lando had just walked out.

Oscar seeing the opportunity decided to use it wisely, “Maybe you should go talk to him?”

“But we’re not that close, I don’t want to make him more upset by prying information from him,” you quickly turned back to your friend.

“But do you want to talk to him?” Oscar held eye contact with you as if trying to prove you something important.

“He’s sad and he’s alone. I just don’t want him to be alone…” you pick at your nails, not clearly understanding where this care for the older boy came from, but Oscar knew and he knew that he’s done it, he has paved the last tile for you to take the first step towards your Lando. He could see it in your movements, just like the first time all those months ago.

“Then go, don’t let him suffer alone for longer than he needs to,” Oscars words meant more than you could understand in this moment, but all you could think about was the sweet boy who was now beating himself up alone in his room.

It didn’t take long for you to jump off the counter and set of in the same direction Lando had just minutes ago.

“Lando?” you knocked on the door, peeking into his driver room, something about the scene feeling too comfortable as if you’d done it time and time again before.

“Oh he’s not here hun, he went outside to cool off a bit,” you came face to face with his PR manager, a sweet woman indeed.

“Have you any idea where?” you inquired, you wanted to find him as soon as possible.

“I’m not sure dear, but I’m sure you’ll find him.” she gave you an encouraging smile before exiting the room, leaving you alone to rake your brain for a place where Lando might be.

So you went to the only place where you knew no one would go to, simply because there was nothing to see, unless you looked up.

There he stood, leaning on the railing, lone as the first star in the night sky, and then you heard it, his heartfelt cries echoing in the perimeter, filling the lonely space with sounds of pain.

You slowly come closer to him.

“Lando?” you put your hand on his shoulder.

Lando’s hands are wrapped around you in a crushing hug before you could even finish your sentence, his face buried into your neck as his tears pooled into the crevice of your collarbone.

When you snap out of the shock, you barely graze his body with your hands and he remembers that it’s not you. At least not the same you that used to be his and detaches himself from your warm hug apologizing profusely.

“I’m so sorry” he cries more as he looks into your eyes and the look in your eyes haunting him, you don’t look at him like that anymore. He turns away from you and slumps down on the bench crying with his whole body which makes your own tears build.

You could feel his pain, that’s how prominent it was.

“Lando please don’t cry like this. It’s just a sprint not a grand prix even, and that one mistake was nothing, you still finished on the podium. Please Lando you should not beat yourself over this.”

His cries do not lessen so you take the matters into your hands, literally.

You put your hands on his face, wiping his tears with your thumbs while telling him all the best things that he is.

“You - are certainly too good of a driver to worry about such a thing and you are too good of a person to hurt yourself so much over a mistake. Lando Norris you are not allowed to beat yourself up over a mistake in a race! You cannot. I’m taking away your right, the only person that can tell you anything bad about your driving is me! Understood? From this moment on you’re the greatest man on that track unless I say otherwise!”

Lando now noticed how he stopped crying because he was focusing on your voice that was all directed at him and no one else.

“Don’t you think Oscar is better than me?” Lando’s voice was small with uncertainty.

“Oscar is great and he knows it, you on the other hand seem to forget it at times… I’ll make sure you never forget. Deal?”

“Deal,” he let out a breath holding your hands close.

You freed one of your hands from his grip making him open his eyes, terror in them, up until you ran your hand through his curls, fixing his hair a bit before your eyes travelled back to his.

“What?” you asked perplexed by his gaze.

“You are a really good person Y/n,” Lando’s eyes glided upon your face as if he were kissing your skin with his gaze.

“You deserve to have good people around Lan,” your voice softened further.

There it was. That word. His nickname. Lan.

The last time he heard you say it was the last time you were his you.

Before you forgot him…

“Let me take you out to dinner,” when would he ever shoot his shot if not now.

“Are you seriously using this time to ask me out?” you chuckled as you held his hand firmly.

“You can’t say no or I’ll cry again,” Lando gave you his best puppy eyes and you positively folded in his touch.

You chuckle at him,“But only because I hate seeing people cry,” you try to convince yourself as your heartbeat had picked up due to the unbreakable eye contact from the man. And it did physically pain you to see him cry.

When you walk him back to the garage where the team is beginning for a debrief you stop him, before he can go in, with a whisper in his ear.

“Just for the record, I wouldn’t have said no,” you kiss his cheek and give him the eyes, the eyes he’d been waiting for, for months now.

You were coming back to him and Lando knew he’d give anything up just to have his girl’s eyes gazing back at his…

^^

A.N. ... there most probably will be a second part... hehe..

#lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x reader fluff #lando norris x reader imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 imagine #mclaren formula 1 #mclaren #ln4 x reader #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 fluff #lando norris angst #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic #f1 #lando norris fic #f1 x reader #angst with a happy ending #light angst

[gremlingottoosilly]

Lovefool [dark!Konig x fem!Reader]

Konig gets to secure a little trophy from the battlefield. Hope you're in for a ride.

!TW! Kidnapping, Yandere themes, Dub-con, dark!Konig

Tags: Yandere, Dark Romance, colonel!Konig, dark!Konig, Size kink, Age gap(Konig in his thirties and Reader is in her twenties), Stockholm syndrome speedrun, Konig is a huge pervert, submissive Reader

You never knew who he was before he attacked.

Your teammates did – whisperers about KorTac getting on their tails, stories about their crazy psycho commander who could barely pass a word to his subordinates while smacking heads off trained men in full armor. Spooky tails for the recruits who refuse to train in their free time – something about “If you aren’t getting in shape by the end of the month, König is going to get you”.

You never knew who he was – you barely knew the organization you worked in.

Cyber security, lowly private military. They are hiring based on CV alone and didn’t ask for a fancy college and a few degrees in hacking that you could never get. They wanted experience, and you had at least a bit of it – you passed through basic training, never serving in the military before, but fine with promises of never actually going out in the field since you would be giving them intel and cyber support from the sidelines.

Well, they never told you that “the sidelines” would be 100 meters away from the actual battlefield.

You don’t even remember what the mission was about – something important, you guess, because they asked you to be here, on sight, computer in hand, and your comrades, with whom you barely talked outside of work, alongside you. Something about weapon smuggling, though you never actually understood if you were stopping it or doing it. Working in the middle of the European Union pays a lot, and it sort of counts as free travel – you’re somewhere in Germany, maybe on the border with Poland or Austria or Czech Republic. Nothing but fields of grass and occasional mountains. They gave you a riffle, a sidearm, and instructions to try not to get too wounded since they wouldn’t be dragging your body out of the field. S[read sheet with intel opened on your computer – you’re not their secretary, but at least they don’t want you to hack the Pentagon.

You heard screams from your tent: “KorTac”, “Compromised”

“König”

What was the weirdest thing – he was alone. A single man shouldn’t be able to take on a team of trained mercs, even as lowly as your company was. You all had weapons, armor, and means of at least taking him down as a group – and you were like a bunch of babies with toy guns on the playground when a pitbull came in.

Your leader fell first – you saw his head explode with a perfect shot right between his eyes. no one screamed sniper, but you still ducked under the field table, hoping that it would save you a few minutes of peace before you’d manage to delete all of the important files from your laptop. This was the protocol – if you are in the middle of dying, you need to first make sure that the enemy won’t get a hold of precious company correspondence and deeply personal photos of your cat.

You leaned forward to see what was happening on the field – you heard screams, you heard gunshots, you heard…

Laugh.

Deep, loud, the laugh that sounded both malicious and cheerful at the same time. It sounded like the man had a field day of breaking necks and stabbing his teammates. You've never seen so much blood on someone. You wish you never had.

Your teammates are falling like porcelain dolls when the elephant hits the kitchen, and you are trying your best to be a good little hacker and not let your company down before your inevitable demise. Turning on your laptop, waiting for whatever ancient version of Windows you had since the budget was mostly going into flashy guns and cool night vision headsets, you are getting ready to format all the disks when….

“The Windows update is in the process. Please, wait approximately 9 hours to complete”

Oh, hell no. You are not going to wait another 9 hours, you could barely survive for the next 9 minutes! Of course, naturally, obviously, you can just turn off the computer and get it off work because the files will get fried up and it won’t turn on again, ever. Which would still complete your goals, so…

— Come on, please…f-fuck, please, just let me…

“As a method of complete data loss prevention, Windows has disabled the ability to manually turn off your computer. Please, wait approximately 9 hours to complete”

— Found you, Maus.

Something – a hand, big, covered in the type of protection you never saw on your fellow soldiers – yanked your ankle, dragging you from under the table you were hiding under. The air stinks of blood and you involuntarily whimper, hands are going to grab the laptop. You need to smash it, destroy it, maybe just drop it hard enough on the floor, push it against the wall, and try your best to kick it enough to damage the disk and prevent KorTac from accessing the files.

The guy steps on your hand, taking the laptop away. You swear to god you hear a crack – you prayed that he would accidentally smash the laptop, but it was your hand under his boot.

— Hurts? Good.

You whimper as he carefully puts the laptop away, checking if it’s still working. He then returns to you – laying on the floor, fingers still shaking in pain, and attempts to grasp for the computer that was snatched away. There is nothing you can do – you have a gun, yes, and he has at least three guns and deadly man-bear hands, so even if you were fast enough to draw a gun before he would, he can just kick you like a puppy.

König – it’s him, it must be him, your teammates were screaming his callsign and talking about a devil who wears a sniper hood and has the height of a not very small tree – kicks you in the ribs, turning you from the side to your back, facing him. If you were stronger, you would do something cool – bite his ankles, for example. Or spit in his face as the last remaining tip of your dignity, before he would kill you or torture you or feast on your flesh.

— Verdammte Feiglinge, can’t even face your death like a man. Look at me, ja?

Crying isn’t a shameful thing to do. So, you cry. Soft little whimpers, sniffles, you are probably looking wet and disgusting, but you hurt, scared, and fucking tired and you want out of here, and you never actually wanted to be a soldier, and they all lied to you while promising to keep you out of the field, and this uniform is horrible, and you feel your tears soaking the half of bandana you were using as a face mask and…

He snatches the mask from your face. Look you in the eyes for long enough to make your whimpers even more audible. You can swear to god that his pupils were dilated. That his hands were shaking. You could see his eyes getting scrunched in that particular way that their owner is smiling – sincerely, openly, from the bottom of his heart.

— Please…p-please, be fast, I don’t know anything, I will…I won’t, I…

Rough, calloused hand goes to cup your face. The material of his glove is tough and soaked in blood as he smears it on your cheek, your fingers are going to wipe away the tears – you don’t understand what’s happening and you are even more scared, and your mouth is twitching in a terrified grimace. He pushes the tip of his finger into your mouth, making you suck on the blood and dirt of the fabric. You think you are going to throw up.

— Quiet.

You don’t understand why he didn’t kill you yet. He is touching your face, slowly, his one hand is enough to cover your entire head and you’re sure that if he’d want to just squish your brain like a rotten cabbage, he could just fine. He pushes his finger even deeper in your mouth and you lick it involuntarily because this is an intrusion and you have the brain of a two-year-old who sees the world through their ability to devour things, and his pupils dilate even more. He looks at your frown, your tears, and your lips wrapped around his finger.

He yanks you on your feet embarrassingly easy.

— You’re a hacker?

You blink a few times. Now, the protocol is that no, you can’t state who you are, If he knows that you are a hacker, he can take you away for interrogation, maybe torture you for passwords and the intel on your company, and being tortured isn’t something on your monthly calendar. Now, the protocol also states that you have to be able to die for your company, and…

He grabs your neck, lifting you – surprisingly gently, softly even, a hand supports your waist so you won’t be able to either kick him or get choked to death because of his grip.

— Answer me, Maus. I might have a reason to let you live.

You do want to live. Maybe not long, definitely not until you’re 100 years old with dozens of grandchildren, but being able to live past the next few hours and then days and then weeks does sound incredible.

— Y…yes. I’m a cyber security specialist.

He squeezes your neck more. Pushes you up, making you cough in your grip. You never experienced anything like this before – never had a guy strong enough to handle you like this. It would look cool from the side, probably – like something from a videogame. It would look hot in the porn, probably, if it was consensual and happening between two passionate lovers.

But you are his enemy, and he is yours – cold blue eyes peering right into yours. He is looking at you like a piece of meat, and not even in the lustful, hungry way. He looks like a butcher in front of a very good beef cut, thinking about where should he sink his knife to get the best steaks. A hunter standing over the wounded deer, thinking if he wants your head above his fireplace or taxidermy your whole body as a wicked trophy.

— Didn’t know they’d allowed someone so fucking small in the field.

You can swear to god that you saw him smile, under this hood. You can’t see his face, obviously, only the blood-soaked fabric and his eyes, but something still tells you that he is smiling. Enjoying your attempts to escape, maybe – you tried to kick him a few times, producing a deep, amused chuckle from his lips. He holds you so easily like you are nothing but a sweet little kitten. You might not be as big as him, but he still shouldn’t be able to lift a grown woman in full gear with just one hand. Right?

— I’m not…not s-small.

You don’t have much fight left in you. You are on the verge of just asking him to kill you, to be honest, your neck hurts and the pain spreading from your fingers pulsates and transforms. You hope they are not broken – even though you understand that your chances to live past these few minutes are very slim. Even your usual snark is lost, forbidden in the hands of a giant who likes to play with his food.

You do feel like a mouse – in a way that you would die under his boot very soon.

He – König, monster, colonel, fucking deadly mercenary – chuckles again. You can get used to this sound. Melodic almost, in a way that most alarms are melodic while telling you about inevitable catastrophe.

— Kleine verfickte Maus. Ich wette, dass du auch ganz eng bist.

He is laughing, again. Laughing and chuckling and you can’t take it anymore because he is so obviously stronger than you, it’s not fair. You want to put your foot on the ground and tap it like a spoiled brat, like a baby on the playground whining for their mom to take them home because other kids don’t want to play by their rules. The difference in skill is so obvious, that you aren’t even able to put on some sort of fight.

— Wh…I don’t speak German.

Your other hand – the one that didn’t get squished under his boot – goes to scratch his arm. Maybe put up enough struggle that he would accidentally let you fall right from his grasp. He doesn’t react and you feel hopeless. Weak, useless, you remember all the times you decided to miss training so you could just chill in the lounge with other rookies or do something on your computer.

— You will, Maus.

Then, there is only darkness.

***

You woke up…somewhere.

Come to think of it, it wasn’t the first time you woke up. You remember opening your eyes, feeling the vibrations under your cheek, hearing the noises of a car or other vehicle moving fast. Too fast for your already spinning head and stomach – you don’t remember if you were coughing or vomiting, but the movement wasn’t stopping to ever let you breathe. You were being transported somewhere, without a chance of knowing where you were heading. At least now, when you get to the final, as you think at least, destination, you’re clean.

As much as someone tied up to a chair somewhere that reminds you of a basement can be.

You’re stripped of your weapons obviously – not like you had a chance to use them anyway. Your hands are tied behind your back, your legs are bound to a chair, and your tragic lack of clothes is…more evident than you wanted it to be. At least you still have your underwear on – it still didn’t make the situation better. He saw you naked, completely, and he might do god knows what with you now.

Although you have some feelings about what he can do with a weak enemy hacker, half-naked and tied up in a secure place.

You would panic, but it requires energy. A resource that you don’t have right now.

— You woke up. Gut. Started to think I went too much again.

His accent is weird, you think. The thought only occurs to you now, when you can hear him more clearly while not being that afraid of getting out of this alive. His voice is weirdly calm for someone of his size – you want to think of gentle giants but this man is far from gentle and is almost too big to even be called a giant. A colossus, you want to say.

— Again?

Your voice is raspy, both from your sleep and from lack of water. When was the last time you drank anything? Probably more than a few hours – your throat is dry as sandpaper, and your head is dizzy from both your trauma – he either strangled you to unconsciousness or beat you hard enough – and the dehydration. You don’t want to spend another minute in this basement – you think this is a basement, at least, the high humidity on the walls and some garbage tossed to the corner is fairly evident. It’s large, too – you never saw anything like this. It might be a KorTac prison, but the remains of a bike and a few shelves of canned foods tossed to the other side of the room tell otherwise.

— We’re allowed to take trophies home. Sometimes I get…impatient.

You’re in his house? Does a monster like him even need a house?

“A trophy”

Funny how you don’t even feel that dehumanized. He didn’t kill you, you don’t feel the evidence of violation on your body – you are clean, neat even, your stomach and private parts aren’t hurting, and, as much as you hate to say this while tied up to a chair, you are as comfortable as a person in your position can be.

— What are you going to do with me?

You shake like a leaf. He finally steps closer to you, coming from the ladder – you can hear the lock and a heavy door being closed, setting your hopes of escape. Not like you could, in your position – the bruises already forming on your legs and hands, a numbed pain in your head and fingers. You feel shitty and comfortable at the same time, trying to tune off the discomfort and just concentrate on talking to him.

He didn’t kill you – this is good, you can work with this.

He left you alive – this is bad, he is going to torture you, he is going to do a million terrible things with you and you are not a part of a regular army, You didn’t get the torture resistance training. Maybe, if it was some of your friends, other girls in the group who got through military school and never missed gym to sit on their computers, they would have survived. You never felt so weak before – not even on the battlefield.

God, you’re scared.

— Your computer. My employer needs the info you had on it.

Oh.

It’s not personal, at least. He is here for the information, not to take advantage of your weak, fragile body. It made you almost feel at peace, almost made you forget about your lack of clothing and the damp basement you’re being put in.

— What sort of info do you need?

You slowly start to wiggle your hands in your binds – he used plastic locks, those stupid unremovable things that are slowly cutting the soft flesh of your wrists. You can’t untie them, but you can try at least tear them on the metal of your chair. You can try to, just to say that you did, and not feel bad about not resisting him at all.

— Your last mission. You were trying to smuggle weapons into the EU border.

— We were trying to stop the smuggling of weapons.

At least, you think you were – your head hurts, your memories are dizzy, and they never actually told you what kind of job you had. Come to think of it, actually, you never asked whether you were the good guys or the bad guys – it was always about money, paychecks, getting your job done and not dying from lack of nutrition because most tech-jokey jobs are already filled with uninspired chatbots and graduates from fancy colleges with a dick between their legs. Not reserved for tired women like you – so you turn to, ironically, paramilitary organizations. How the tables have turned.

— That’s not what our intel says, Maus. Do you want to lie to me?

You don’t. You just don’t know if you are telling the truth or lying because you are too fucking tired to even think straight.

He comes closer, and you whimper involuntarily. His breath hitches.

— Scheisse…they knew who to hire.

He grabs you by the neck again, and you can finally see him fully – towering over you, cold blue eyes staring right into you. You sob, not able to handle your emotions because, oh god, he is going to rape you, torture you, and then put a giant burning stick right in your ass because everyone knows that this is the best way to hack a computer – you just need to find the person who put the password in the first place.

— Can’t you just hack the computer yourself?

He chuckles – you’re getting tired of that sound. You hate that you found his voice attractive, you hate the fact he is keeping you down here. You want to destroy that part of your body that likes the attention – how his eyes are only kept on you. Never had a guy kidnapping you before, and you fight the feeling of disappointment that strikes you when you remember that he is here because he needs the intel. Not because he wants you.

— It wasn’t a…conventional operation. Can’t waste manpower on breaking the walls you installed.

His hand goes to cup your face again – you frown, breathing stops because he is so close and he takes off his gloves, allowing his rough, calloused fingers to linger on your cheeks. He squeezes your face in an almost adorable manner and steps back again. You lick your dry lips again, trying hard to keep at least one part of your body moisturized, and his breath hitches again.

He goes behind you, ruffles through shelves – you can hear something falling, his awkward grunt as he had to pick it up. He is more clumsy than you though – more nervous also, hands are jittering and fingers twitching every time you look at him. Adorable, really, how this huge mess of a man can look so innocent and almost nervous in front of you.

König returns after a minute or two, holding…a water bottle. Closed, lid still on, little plastic wrapping in place. You have half a mind about just drinking it, even though he doesn’t offer it to you. Not like you could open it yourself, with how your hands are still tied up behind your back.

— You don’t speak German.

It’s not a question – it’s a statement. you watch him opening the bottle with ease, large hands are working on something so fragile and delicate. You can’t remember the last time you had sex, not with how fast your head is spinning and memories still foggy, but you think it was a long time ago – because you feel your cheeks heated from the simple actions of his large fingers ripping through soft plastic.

God, you don’t really remember what was happening before you got here, not in detail, but you know that you needed to get laid like, a year ago.

— No.

— You will.

— Wh…what do you mean?

Is he going to make you install Duolingo? Is this what it all was about? Some elaborate prank, a marketing campaign, a tough lesson for silly girls who think that knowing just your native language is enough to live your life and…

— When you want something, Maus, you have to say “bitte”.

If you were a strong and cool soldier, you would use this moment to jump from your chair, using the weight of your body to fall on him and make him lose balance, and then spit in his face as your last remaining blast of human dignity.

But you aren’t a cool and strong soldier, and you really need to drink.

— B…bitte. What does this mean?

— Please.

He is almost whispering, the water bottle tanging in his hands in front of you. You take your time, considering the possibilities – you can play like a good little prisoner and allow him to take your pride and just toss it aside. You can play like an obedient hostage and ask him nicely, hoping that it would be enough.

You don’t know what to do – appearing too shy and soft can give him…ideas. And you don’t want this crazed giant who is keeping you bound in his basement to get ideas. You can…you probably can spend more time without water. Or food. Or shower and change of position.

You take your time answering, and his demeanor seems almost…anxious. His eyes are darting between the water bottle and your face, between his hands and your body – like he can barely keep a calm facade and not force you into doing something nasty. Like he is almost afraid that you are not going to cooperate and he would really have to hurt you in a meaningful way.

— Can I have water, bitte?

— Gutes Kätzchen. Drink, you’ll need it.

In the end, you broke down first. Not because you are this weak, but because being a brat won’t save you in a situation like this. You don’t want to die over something as trivial as your pride.

König seems…at ease. He takes off the bottle cap and brings water to your lips, allowing you to drink as much as you want. You lick the remaining drops from your lips and he puts a half-empty bottle aside.

— I won’t tell you the password.

You mumble under your breath, barely audible. He chuckles.

— I count on it, liebe.

#call of duty #cod x reader #cod x you #konig mw2 #cod #konig x reader #reader insert #yandere cod #yandere konig #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere #yandere imagines

[intheupside]

Crosby has privately and publicly said on many occasions — most recently for this article from The Athletic — that he intends to finish where he started in the NHL. Fenway Sports Group, which owns the Penguins, views making Crosby a Forever Penguin as its top priority.

If an extension isn’t announced on July 1, it’ll only be because Crosby might still be shrugging off another disappointing season by vacationing in Europe.

If he signs for three seasons, Crosby will play through the ends of current contracts belonging to Evgeni Malkin and Kris Letang— the two teammates with whom he is closest, not to mention the ones he pushed for the team to re-sign a couple of years ago.

The point is that Crosby isn’t going anywhere else to play NHL games.

If that upsets pot-stirrers who have gone out of their way to push this “Crosby deserves better” than what the Penguins have become — oh well. It might be tough for some people to accept, but they don’t get to decide what’s best for Crosby.

The Penguins are best for Crosby. Full stop.

I’m old enough to have been there when Lemieux didn’t even make it halfway through his 17th season with the Penguins. It was Crosby’s rookie season. Granted, Lemieux was four years older than Crosby is now. Still, he recognized then — as did former Penguins coach Michel Therrien — that Crosby, even at 18, was ready to lead the franchise on and off the ice.

Crosby is still the only guy for that job.

Before Crosby, the Penguins’ brand was built around star power, flashy scorers and high-end skill players. All those aspects remain, but Crosby infused the franchise with a blue-collar sensibility that Pittsburgh fans crave from their teams — even if several generations have passed since the city was a gritty, lunch pail, steel town.

The way Crosby plays changed what it meant to be a Penguin. His skill was obvious, but he hardly relied on God-given gifts. He worked his massive posterior off to win every puck battle, set up each or score each goal, and lift the Cup three times.

Doing that work — setting an example that the best and most popular player is also the hardest working and concerned with the team above the individual — made Crosby an icon. He’s still doing that work, even without a chance for his team to compete at the highest level.

As a student of history, but also someone who is studious when it comes to the franchise he’s shepherded for almost two full decades, Crosby is wise enough to know the chance — even if slight — to shape the next great Penguins team is more interesting than chasing a fourth title somewhere else, even if that somewhere is in Denver with his pal MacKinnon.

It won’t be easy. It might not happen.

But since when is Sidney Crosby not up for a challenge?

from the athletic

#pittsburgh penguins #sidney crosby #kris letang #evgeni malkin

[angelwonie]

HEARTS ARE WON AT PRACTICE || jung jaehyun

PAIRING: football player!jaehyun x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 21.2k

GENRE(S): smut, fluff, enemies to friends to lovers

SUMMARY: jung jaehyun is an obnoxious, way too handsome footballer whom you have no intention of getting to know. at least until a series of coincidences forces you to spend time with him, and you realize there might be more to him than what meets the eye.

WARNINGS: smut [unprotected sex, praise, degradation, fingering, locker room sex, a little dumbification], jaehyun is hot, unfortunately

Getting hit in the head with a football definitely was not on your to-do list for today. 

It all happens so quickly. One minute you’re on your way home — walking down the path that coincidentally forces you to pass by the football field, side-eyeing the players whose egos have long ago surpassed whatever roof kept them in check before, and in the next a football shoots in your direction, hitting your head so hard you stumble a few steps backwards. It stings a little, but there’s no blood on your fingers when you retract them from your forehead, so you suppose it’s fine.  

You hear someone shout in the distance just then, the voice all too familiar even though you can’t make out the words he’s saying. And really, it doesn’t matter that much, either. What matters is that it’s him who just hit you in the head with a football, and the second you hear his voice it makes your heart stop. 

Jung Jaehyun. 

You could’ve recognized his voice from miles away. Not because you’re one of his pitiful fangirls, of course — there’s no way you’re associating yourself with the cheerleaders almost fainting when he enters the field to play. No, if it were up to you, you wouldn’t even know Jung Jaehyun exists. Unfortunately, though, you happen to be both his neighbor and have a best friend that fell head over heels in love with him last year. If your mom wasn’t gushing about how handsome Jaehyun was one day, Dahyun always made up for it. 

His voice shoots through the air again now, and this time, you look up. He’s far away, so you can’t hear him, only catch a glimpse of his red shirt, but after a second or two you come to realize he’s not even talking to you; he’s talking to his teammates. 

What an asshole, you think to yourself, almost scoffing as you look at him. Is he really so self-centered that he can’t apologize for kicking the ball into your fucking skull? Probably, if the fact that he rejected your friend without even looking in her direction is anything to go by. And though that happened almost a year ago, your friend still sometimes looks like she’s about to cry when you pass by the football field. At least you don’t have to listen to her rant about how sexy his thighs are anymore.

Shaking your head, you start walking again, now much more eager to get home than ever. 

You make it approximately ten steps before you hear his voice again, much closer than before. It’s soft, but deep — the kind of voice that makes girls fall to their knees — and unfortunately, also loud enough for your head to whip around instinctively. 

“Y/N, wait!” 

You stop walking and look at him. He’s still in his uniform, shirt clinging to his upper body and face glistening in sweat. The sun is high up in the sky, reflecting in his eyes as he looks at you, his uneven breath a sign that he’s been practicing for a long time. Not that it’s surprising — you’re certain that boy doesn’t have anything to his personality other than being a good football player. And being objectively handsome. His lips quirk up in a small smile when he sees you’ve halted your walk, but what catches your attention are his words. 

He said your name. 

It shouldn’t come as a surprise since you’ve lived close to each other for many years, but you’ve never spoken to him, and he hasn’t so much as looked in your direction before. Now he’s looking, though. And as much as you hate to admit it, you can see where all of those fangirls are coming from. His eyes rest on you softly, like a cheek pressed against a fluffy pillow, but he’s nowhere near absent-minded, that much is obvious from the small hint of worry in his gaze. Whether that is worry for you or his reputation as the best player on the team, you're not sure. 

You hear his breathing even out, and it makes you realize you’re still standing without moving, waiting for him to say something. 

“Are you okay?” he finally asks, pushing his wet hair back in a way that looks much more attractive than it needs to. “I really didn’t mean for it to hit you.”

“Maybe you should work on your aiming skills, then,” you tell him, watching as his face contorts into an offended expression. He looks half-mad, half-confused, with his eyes blinking down on you and jaw clenched just slightly. It makes you wonder whether anyone has ever told him to work on his aim before. Probably not. “I’m fine, though.”

You begin walking again, leaving Jaehyun behind. No other sounds than the weak wind reach your ears, and you wonder if he’s going back to the football field. Not that you really care. You’re just curious. 

It only takes another five seconds for you to find out. 

“Are you sure?” Jaehyun’s shoulder brushes over yours as he catches up to you. Caught off guard, you jump a little, and his lips spread in a smile — a full one this time, teeth on display and eyes crinkling. It’s the same smile he wears when his team wins a game, you realize, before you can stop your thoughts from running. “That you’re fine, I mean. I kicked it pretty hard.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” you roll your eyes in annoyance. Is this guy waiting for some confirmation that yes, he did kick it hard, and yes, it did hurt? Wasn’t that much obvious from how you almost fell flat on your face in front of the whole football team? “I’m alright, so you can just go back and finish your game.”

“We finished it already,” he pushes his hair away from his face again — why is he even doing that if it just falls back either way? — and walks in front of you to block you from walking any further. You glare at him, but either he doesn’t notice, or he ignores it completely. “Are you sure you’re okay? It looks like a bruise is forming here.” 

And before you can even react, he leans down so his face is on level with yours and brings his thumb to lightly trace above your brow, where the football hit you earlier. It didn’t ache at all before, but now it tingles where he touches you, like your skin setting on fire. Except it doesn’t hurt, it’s just… different. And unexpected. Really unexpected. That’s what you blame everything on as you keep on standing, not flinching away from his touch though you have no idea why. 

“Does it hurt?” 

His voice brings you back to reality, and you blink up at him in surprise. “No.” 

Cringing internally at how meek your voice sounds, you shake your head and take a step back, that warm feeling fading away from your face the moment his skin isn’t on yours anymore. 

“No, I said I’m fine already.” 

You sigh, picking up the walk again and scrunching your nose up when Jaehyun walks by your side. The last thing you need right now is some overconfident footballer to ruin your day. You can already feel the headache coming along. 

A few moments pass by in silence and you look over at the woods surrounding the path. Some flowers have started to bloom, filling the grass with colors. You catch a glimpse of Jaehyun looking at you, then following your gaze that rests on the flowers. Your eyebrows lift in surprise as he strays from the path and walks onto the grass, starting to pick flowers. He looks like he’s taking this very seriously, pondering for a second or two before he chooses a flower. You almost want to burst his bubble and tell him these flowers probably won’t impress the kind of girls he surrounds himself with, but you decide it’ll be funnier if he makes a fool out of himself later. 

He returns to the path like nothing happened, the small bouquet of flowers dangling in his hand. It’s only now that you notice you stopped walking to watch, so you speed up again, hoping to God he didn’t notice or get the wrong idea. 

“So,” he begins, and you feel like dying. This is going to be a long walk home. “You coming to the game on friday?”

You turn your head to the side and look at him. “No way. Football games are the most boring things in the world.”

It’s not a complete lie — you don’t like watching football at all, especially when all the players walk around with those looks on their face that make it obvious they think they’re better than everyone else. Like the one Jung Jaehyun is wearing right at this moment. 

“Even if the players are handsome?” 

You scoff at his shit-eating grin. If this is how he talks to every girl then you’ll have to take back what you said earlier — you have no idea where all those fangirls come from. Unless you only care about looks, there’s nothing to this guy at all. 

“If only they were,” you sigh overly dreamily, hoping it'll make him annoyed and he’ll shut up. 

Except he does the exact opposite. He starts laughing. It’s loud, strong — you suppose his confidence transfers to his laugh, too — and unfortunately for you, pleasant to listen to. But that’s just an observation, obviously. 

He chuckles for a solid thirty seconds before the laughter fades into a wide smile that settles on his features, eyes glimmering in the sunlight as he pushes you lightly. “You’re funny.”

“It wasn’t a joke.”

His grin only grows wider at your annoyed expression. “Sure it wasn’t.” 

You swear you would’ve punched him if it weren’t for the old lady passing by at that exact moment. Before you can nod your head in her direction, Jaehyun tells her ‘Good morning’ with a smile still plastered to his face. You turn around slightly, trying to figure out how Jaehyun knows that person, but it seems it’s only the lady living between him and your house. 

Shaking your head, you think to yourself that they’re probably relatives or something. Because if they aren’t, it would mean you’re acknowledging Jaehyun’s kindness to strangers, and you’re not really dying to do that at the moment.  

“Asshole,” you mumble to yourself, as if summing up the whole situation.

“By the way,” This time it’s you that starts the conversation, reminded of something you wanted to ask him. “You know Dahyun, right?”

You watch as his nose scrunches up in thought, lip pulled between his teeth. “Dahyun…” 

He looks like he’s got no clue who you’re talking about, so you help him out. 

“Short with blonde hair. Asked you out last year and you rejected her without even considering it. Does that ring a bell?” 

He lets go of his lip and rests his gaze on you. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, but the lack of guilt in his eyes angers you. Surely he understands Dahyun is your friend from the tone of your voice, so why isn’t he saying sorry? The least he could do now is apologize for acting like a complete jerk. He owes you that much, right? 

“Yeah, I guess,” he says finally, in a careless tone that annoys you even more. “What about it?”

What about it? Is he serious right now? 

“You’re a total dick, you know that? Who rejects someone without even knowing them?” you blurt out without thinking twice about it. 

The wind rustles Jaehyun’s hair as he raises a brow, and it falls in his eyes again. He doesn’t push it away this time. You’re looking at him intently, waiting for him to say something. Anything. You wonder if he’s going to apologize now that you confronted him, but something in his gaze tells you he’s not the type to admit he’s wrong. 

“Who asks someone out without knowing them?” he says finally and you open your mouth to retaliate, but he cuts you off.  “What was I supposed to do exactly? I mean, I’d never spoken to her in my life. Better to just say no instead of leading someone on, don’t you think?”

You open your mouth then close it again. You should probably say something. Argue with him. But he’s right, at least to some extent. You would’ve done the same, so you’re not exactly in any position to lecture him. He knows that — maybe he saw it in your expression — you can tell from how his lips form a smile yet again. And surprisingly, you don’t feel a strong urge to kick him when he walks closer to your side, his shoulder only a few centimeters from yours. 

“You’re still a dick,” you remind him, and he presses his lips out in a pout. 

“How is that fair?” 

You’re nearing both your houses now, the flowers and trees replaced by the neighborhood you’ve grown up in. You half-expect Jaehyun to leave the moment he spots his local friends that are sitting by the lawn they always play football on — you only know this because you can hear their shouting from your room whenever the window is open — but he only waves in their direction before turning his attention back to you as you speak. 

“How was that free kick in your last game fair?” 

You regret that last comment the moment Jaehyun’s pout turns into a proud smirk. “So you do come watch us play.” 

“My friend dragged me along,” you assure him quickly. A little too quickly. “And just so you know, that goal of yours was totally just luck.” 

You’ve reached your house now — his is only a couple steps further. You’re not sure whether you’re supposed to say goodbye or just walk away without paying him any attention. Does he consider you friends now? Probably not. He has plenty of those. Plus, you’re friends with a girl that hates him. He’s likely to prefer for you to leave without a word. Which you don’t mind, obviously. Even if your heart jumps all the way to your throat when he pats you on the shoulder with a smile.

“Right,” he mumbles with that annoying smirk on his face, and you roll your eyes, walking up to the front door. You don’t expect him to say anything else, but then he raises his voice to shout after you so loudly you’re sure half the neighborhood can hear him. “See you tomorrow, Y/N!”

And you open the door to your house only half-annoyed. 

—

“No way. There’s just no fucking way.”

“What is it?” Dahyun asks excitedly from the other end of the line. “What happened? Don’t tell me you caught your brother making out with some girl again.”

“No, it’s not that,” you blink violently, making sure that you’re seeing straight. Strings of questions are heard from where Dahyun is rambling into the phone, but you can’t focus on any of them. “I think Jung Jaehyun is talking to my mom right now.”

“What?” 

You can hear she’s confused, and truthfully, so are you. But it’s true — you’re almost home now, and there he is, Jung Jaehyun standing in your driveway, chatting with your mom like it’s the most normal thing ever. It’s not normal, though. You barely know the guy, and you definitely don’t like him, so what in the world is he doing outside your door? 

Dahyun asks a million questions again, and you sigh into the phone, at loss for anything to say. “I’ll call you back later, okay?” 

Then you hang up without waiting for an answer. She’s probably going to give you an earful for that later, but what you’re focused on right now is running up to your mom. 

Jaehyun is the one to notice you first, his pearly whites on display as he flashes you a smile. He’s not wearing his football attire, you notice, but plain jeans and a sleeveless shirt. You want to ask him why the hell he’s wearing a sleeveless shirt in the beginning of spring, but you suppose that would only urge him to imply you’re staring at his arms (which you’re not, obviously) and his ego really doesn’t need any more boosts. 

“Y/N, you’re here,” Jaehyun says and only then does your mom look in your direction, clapping her hands together in glee. 

“Yeah, I’m here,” you glare at the football player. “Because I’m supposed to be. May I ask what the hell you are doing on my front lawn?” 

“Y/N, language!” Your mom lightly slaps your shoulder, and you almost want to throw up when you see the sickly sweet apologetic smile she sends Jaehyun. Oh God, what if she has a crush on him? Would explain why she’s scolding you for wanting to know what an almost-stranger is doing at your doorstep. And what if Jaehyun actually likes older women, and that’s why he’s rejecting every girl at school? “Jaehyun here is being a sweetheart and helping me carry these groceries inside.”

Of course he is. You raise a brow in Jaehyun’s direction, but he only shrugs with a proud smile. What is he smiling for? Is this some sort of payback for you saying his aim is bad? Is he really that petty? Honestly, he seems like the type to do that. You guess that’s what you get for bruising his fragile ego. 

“Actually, Jaehyun, why don’t you come and have dinner with us? There’s more than enough food for everyone.” 

“What?” you laugh nervously at your mom’s words, sending her a pleading look. Nope. There’s no way you’re about to eat dinner with this guy. “Please, mom, I’m sure Jaehyun has practice—”

“I don’t, actually.” You’ve never wanted to punch a smirk off of someone’s face so badly before, that’s for sure. He’s doing it on purpose, that fucking asshole. It’s evident in the way his eyes light up in amusement as you glare at him angrily. “I’d love to join you for dinner.”

And that’s how you find yourself wanting to cry in your own living room, sitting around the dining table with Jung Jaehyun as you wait for your mother to finish making dinner. 

Your mom has the table set like it’s some kind of holiday (she probably thinks having a handsome guy in her house equals Christmas), with flowers in vases and candles and tons of side dishes that you don’t even know when she had the time to prepare. Now she’s scurrying around the kitchen, successfully rejecting Jaehyun’s every offer to help but almost kicking your brother when he takes a little too long leaving his room to clean the dishes. Double standards at their finest. 

Fortunately, she’s left you alone — though you think it’s because she wants you to entertain Jaehyun, so it’s not that much of a consolation. You’re just counting on the ground to swallow you up whole before he starts talking. 

“Okay, so,” Too late, you think to yourself as he opens his mouth. “What’s your favorite color?”

You scoff in laughter, looking at Jaehyun for the first time since you entered the house. “Why are you asking me that?”

“Because I’m trying to get to know you,” he shrugs. “That’s what friends do, right? Know each other.”

You narrow your eyes at him, watching as he rests his chin on his hand. The absurdity of it all makes you want to laugh. A little over 24 hours ago you hadn’t exchanged a word with Jung Jaehyun, and now he’s sitting in your living room, asking you questions about yourself. You have to admit you’re slightly taken aback — you didn’t expect him to suddenly become so interested in getting to know you, and you definitely didn’t take him for someone who puts effort into things like relations. 

“Who said I want to be your friend?”

He studies you for a moment, tilting his head to the side as his eyes rake over your face. It makes you feel exposed in a way — he has that type of stare that makes you feel flustered even though he’s not doing much, just looking. It’s the attention, you decide. How it feels like all of his attention is on you, that’s what’s making you so nervous right now. 

“You do,” he says finally, leaning forward so he’s all up in your face. “I can see it in your eyes.” 

All you can see, though, are his eyes mere inches from yours, his hot breath landing on your lips. You see his hair fall onto his forehead, and you almost feel an urge to push it back. This only lasts a second, though, before you’re pulling away, scooting farther away from him on your seat. Geez. Doesn’t this guy know what personal space is? 

You clear your throat and speak, thanking God that your voice doesn’t sound shaky. “Oh no, I think the disease is spreading. Not only is your aim bad, but your eyesight is, too.”

“My aim isn’t bad.”

You almost want to laugh at how he straightens his back, squaring his shoulders as if to prove a point. 

“Really? And that’s why you managed to kick a ball into my head when I was standing twenty meters away from the goal?” 

He leans forward on the table with his jaw clenched. “Look—” 

He’s cut off by your mom entering the living room, two plates full of food in her hands. She asks if anyone is willing to help her carry everything to the table, and Jaehyun volunteers, his stance faltering. You watch silently as they set the table, tapping your fingers against your thigh. When they finally sit down, Jaehyun next to you and your mom across from you, they both seem to be in a good mood, so you figure Jaehyun didn’t get very mad at your comment. 

Your mom urges Jaehyun to eat tons of meat, and then she rests her chin on her hand, smiling at him like he’s the most beautiful human being she’s ever seen. “So, Jaehyun, you play football, right? How long have you played for?”

“About… ten years, give or take,” he says it like it’s no big deal, but you can feel your eyes growing wide, and your mom’s gasp signalizes she’s having the same thoughts as you. All you cared about ten years ago was watching the latest show everyone was talking about. “Not that long compared to others trying to make the national team.” 

National team? Your eyes find their way to his on their own, and you hold back the shocked expression that is creeping up on you. There’s no way you’re letting him see you’re impressed. Instead, you offer him a roll of your eyes and a scoff. 

“Oh, great, you’re like one of those kids that never grew out of their professional footballer fantasy.” 

He grins. Something in his gaze tells you he didn’t buy your act. “It’s not a fantasy if you’re talented enough to make it.”

“Wow, aren’t you confident in yourself?” you ask mockingly. 

“Y/N,” your mom warns you, and you sigh, eating your food quietly. You can feel Jaehyun’s stare burning into you, but you don’t look up because he’s confusing and annoying, and you don’t want to look at him because it only makes you more confused and annoyed. Luckily, your mom only seems pleased with your silence. “Do you like the food, Jaehyun?”

“It’s delicious,” he flashes a bright smile. “Could I maybe have the recipe? I'd love for my mom to make this sometime.” 

You want to criticize him for sucking up to her, but the way your mom’s eyes light up at his words make you bite your tongue. 

“Why, of course, you can!” 

Jaehyun’s eyes meet yours as your mom fishes out a piece of paper and starts writing the ingredients on it. He’s still smiling. He doesn’t look proud of himself or anything. It’s just a genuine smile. That was nice of you, you want to tell him. You don’t. Instead, you hope he can see it in your eyes. Or maybe you’re hoping he doesn’t. You’re not sure. 

“Uh, why is he here?”

You’re reminded of your brother’s presence only as he walks into the room, sleeves of his shirt pushed up, signaling he was doing the dishes. He’s referring to Jaehyun and you’re thankful someone else thinks it’s awful he’s here right now — at least until your brother opens his mouth again. “Is he Y/N’s boyfriend?” 

“What? No!” You slam your hand on the table a little too hard, causing your mom and Jaehyun to jump in their seats. “Are you crazy? He’s just a neighbor. You know, he's one of those annoying guys that always play football late at night.” 

You can feel your mom’s reprimand coming along, but before she can fully open her mouth, your brother is turning to Jaehyun with awe in his eyes. 

“You are? That's so dope,” Your jaw drops at your brother’s response, Jaehyun’s quiet chuckle only barely reaching your ears. “You wouldn't mind teaching me a few tricks, right? I've seen you guys play and you're mad good.”

You scoff. What is this, some Jung Jaehyun fanclub? Faintly, you can hear him say ‘sure’ to your brother and the latter jumps in excitement like a little kid. Jaehyun’s eyes shimmer in the living room light when you look to the side to catch a glimpse of him, only for a moment wondering what’s going through his head. All you know about him is that he’s unpredictable and plays football, and for the first time, you feel like you want to know more. 

As your mom and Jaehyun clean the table, you usher your brother away (ignoring his whining about wanting to play football with ‘the sexy dude’) and put on your hoodie. It’s still cool outside in the evenings, and you’re certain your mom will force you to walk Jaehyun home even though he lives two minutes away. Your suspicions are confirmed as soon as she walks back into the living room with Jaehyun in tow, her eyes already telling you that if you don’t walk him home she’s going to disown you. 

Reluctantly, you lead him to the front door, not bothering to tie your shoes. He’s the first to reach the door, and he opens it for you, to which you mumble a small ‘thank you.’ It seems like you have a lot to thank him for today. Making your mom happy, putting your brother in a good mood, and now, holding the door open for you. You suppose it’s enough to make up for the football hitting your head. 

“Your mom is nice,” is the first thing he says as you walk alongside each other, slow steps that bring you closer to his house. “Very optimistic and supportive, it seems. It’s refreshing.” 

Your first thought is how you thought he was into her, but you feel a sting in your heart when you hear the faint yearning in his voice. He isn’t crushing on your mom, she’s just showing interest in what he’s doing and he likes that. You wonder if his parents are different. If they don’t support him. Maybe they think trying out for the national team is stupid? 

“Let me ask you a question,” you say and he nods. “Why do you reject every girl that asks you out?”

He raises a brow in surprise. “That’s a deep question for someone who said my aim is bad.”

“If I take it back, will you answer?”

He buries his hands in his pockets and walks backwards, so he can face you. It’s dark and you can barely see him, and it also doesn’t help that when he’s this close you have to crane your neck to look up at him. Tapping his chin, he acts as if he’s in deep thought. 

“I’ll think about it.”

You sigh, shivering as the cold wind hits your skin. 

“I’m sorry I said your aim is bad,” you say finally, resigned. “Happy?”

“Very.” 

He grins and for some unknown reason, you don’t feel as cold anymore. You shake off whatever feeling’s stirring up in your stomach — for a moment, it feels dangerously close to happiness and enjoying Jung Jaehyun’s company isn’t on your to-do list for today. You try walking faster to get this whole ‘walk Jaehyun home’ thing over with quicker, but he blocks you and you scoff. 

“I apologized,” you remind him. “Now answer my question.”

He shakes his head with a playful glint in his eyes. “I said I’d think about it, not that I’d answer it. I thought about it and I don’t want to.”

“You’re annoying.” 

“Thanks.”

A small smile settles on your features, one you realize you’ve been holding back for most of the day. You hope Jaehyun can’t see it in the dark — that would be embarrassing. Not only because you’re supposed to dislike him, but also because he’s a cocky little shit and he doesn’t need to know he’s actually an interesting person. At least you think he might be. Maybe. 

Slowly, you walk, now barely ten meters away from his house. You’re thinking of something to say when it starts raining. It’s one raindrop, then two, and suddenly it’s pouring. Not violently, just peacefully, water dripping down your face as you look up at the sky. It’s so pretty. He looks at you, you can feel his stare, and so you look at him, too. The smile doesn’t leave your face, and you’re sure he can see it now. He doesn’t comment on it, though, and for that, you’re thankful. 

You don’t know what it means just yet. Other than that you want to get to know him. Maybe. 

“It’s raining,” you say, and he stops walking, raising his eyebrows, as if to say you’re stating the obvious. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

“You like the rain?”

“You don’t?”

He thinks for a moment, eyes on you when you open your hand, letting the raindrops fall on your palm. Your hair is wet, he notices, and your clothes, too. You don’t seem to mind, though, and he thinks this might be the happiest he’s seen you all day. So rain is what makes you happy. He fights back the urge to laugh. He never would have taken you for someone this easy to please. Maybe you’re a little happier spending time with him than you let on. 

Maybe. He’s not sure, but maybe this uncertainty is exactly what draws him to you. No clear answers, no black on white, just his words and the words you choose to respond with. He likes it, he thinks. 

“I hate playing in the rain,” He finally responds. “It makes the field all slippery and wet. I prefer the sun.” 

You’re not surprised, he can tell from the look in your eyes. “Don’t you have any opinions unrelated to football?”

You had intended for the question to come off as a snarky comment, but you realize as the words leave your mouth there are no traces of irritation in your voice. Only the genuine interest you didn’t want to let come to the surface. 

“It may come as a surprise, but actually, I do.” 

Jaehyun’s bare arms are littered with raindrops, hair pitch black as it allows more rain to drip down his face. He must be freezing, but he makes no move to walk home quicker, and so you don’t either. Your hoodie isn’t completely soaked through yet, so you decide you can enjoy the rain a little longer. He clears his throat and you look at him expectantly.

“I like Red Bull,” he begins, eyes blinking down on you as if he’s expecting you to laugh at him or something. But you don’t, and so he smiles wider and continues. “I don’t have a favorite color. Your mom’s kimchi is phenomenal. Plans and schedules are overrated. You want to be my friend.” He stops, watching your slightly startled expression. “Your turn.” 

You think it through for a moment. 

“My favorite color is purple,” You say, slowly tasting the words on your tongue as you let them leave your mouth. “Latte tastes best with two cubes of sugar. You’re annoying and your aim sucks. I want to be your friend.” 

“I knew it.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” You grin as you push his shoulder. He was supposed to stumble backward, but he doesn’t even budge, which should annoy you, but you can’t bring yourself to care that much when the rain is making you feel so light. Or maybe it’s not the rain. You’re not sure. “Stop smiling so much and go inside. You’re going to catch a cold in that shirt.” 

He walks to his door and opens it, but before walking inside, he turns around and waves at you. You wave back, watching as he sports a smile that doesn’t falter even as he disappears into the house. 

You walk back home with a smile on your face, only a quarter annoyed. 

—

It’s a little past eight when Jaehyun sees you kicking stones by the bus stop. 

Actually, he hears you long before you come into sight — a scream of frustration in what he recognizes as your voice hits his ears as he walks outside to throw away the trash. Interested, and maybe a tad bit worried for your well-being, he decides to check what’s going on. And sure enough, there you are, head in your hands as you flop down on the pavement by the road. 

“Y/N,” he says and you lift your head, sighing. “You okay?”

You shake your head in disbelief. How come he’s always there when something’s happening? You let your eyes rake over his frame — he’s wearing sweats and a compression shirt that, even you have to admit, makes him look hot. The outline of his abs is distracting, even for you. Still, you do your best to look him in the eyes as you speak. 

“I missed the bus.” 

He scoffs and you glare at him. “Jesus Christ, I thought something serious happened. You look like you want to die.”

“It is serious!” you protest, throwing your hands in the air. “I’m going to be late for class. Who decided that the buses only run every half hour?” 

He looks like he’s in deep thought, gazing down on you as you sit on the edge of the pavement. His classes don’t start until nine, so he wasn’t planning on heading out to school already, but you’re looking miserable and he’s intent on being on good terms with you. Apart from his teammates, you’re pretty much the only one that doesn’t act like he’s some sort of celebrity. Sure, having girls drool over you is fun, but only until you’re looking for someone to talk to and not fuck. Besides, he enjoys your company. It won’t kill him to leave a little early. 

“Get up,” he says suddenly, and without giving you any time to react, he grabs your arm and hauls you up so you’re standing. “I’ll drive you.”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “You’ll drive me?” 

“Yeah, let me just get the keys to the car.”

And just like that, you’re following a compression-shirt-clad football player into his house that you’ve never been in. For some reason, it makes you nervous, like you’re trespassing or something, but hearing Jaehyun say no one’s home calms your nerves a little.

He walks into the living room and leaves you in the hallway, and you take this as an opportunity to look around. The house looks a little like your own — the design is the same, the walls are painted white like yours and the windows are the same size. But apart from that, it’s so different. 

The walls are littered with pictures — you recognize Jaehyun’s parents, holding him as a baby. Another one is of him and his sister, when they were around seven or eight. They have a couple more group pictures, but other than that, most are of Jaehyun on the football field. Ten-year-old Jaehyun holding what looks like his first medal; teenage Jaehyun screaming in happiness after scoring a goal; and then, your personal favorite — tears streaming down Jaehyun’s face as he lifts a trophy above his head, his teammates all joyfully smiling. 

His parents must be proud of him, you think to yourself. You probably would, too, if you were them. Yet when you were talking to him last, he gave you the impression that his parents weren’t as supportive of him as he’d like. But it’s none of your business, you decide, and avert your eyes from the pictures. 

Your gaze falls on a vase full of flowers standing proudly in the middle of the dining table. It looks familiar, you think, that combination of flowers. Maybe you’ve seen it at the flower shop? No, they’re too messy; they look too handpicked. You stare at the bouquet a little longer, and that’s when it clicks. 

It’s the flowers Jaehyun picked on the way home that day you talked to him for the first time. 

“I got the keys, let’s go.” 

His voice startles you a little, but you only nod, following him out the door. So he picked the flowers for his parents? Or, judging from the way they were carefully placed around the vase so as not to leave any holes, he picked them for his mom. That’s… surprising. And adorable, as much as you hate to admit it. 

Jaehyun opens the garage door only to reveal an old-looking, black BMW. He unlocks it and opens the door for you to climb in. 

“Is this your car?” you ask him hesitantly. 

He smiles as you slide into the seat. “Nope, it’s my dad’s.” 

“And did you get permission to drive it?”

“Nope,” he repeats, grinning, and walks around the car to climb into his seat. “Isn’t that what makes it exciting?”

You probably shouldn’t be letting him drive around in his father’s car like that, but you’re late for class and his excited smile is slowly working to loosen up the nervousness in your stomach, so you just glare at him and whisper a quiet ‘you crazy jerk’ under your breath. He hears it and laughs as he starts driving, your own lips quirking up in a smile as he does so. Who knew Jung Jaehyun would turn out to be your savior today? 

“So, how does it work?” you ask him as he pulls out of the driveway. “Being an athlete, I mean. Do you have any classes or do you just play football all day?” 

“I have classes, too, unfortunately,” he sighs dramatically. “I major in physical education, just in case everything goes to shit. At least I’ll be able to coach teams. But other than that, I just play. Four hours a day.”

You’d kind of expected to have to hold on for dear life, but he’s driving smoothly, only one hand on the steering wheel. His shoulders are relaxed, a small smile playing on his lips while he talks to you, eyes drifting to the side to look at you only for a split second before they’re back on the road. It’s obvious he’s driven a lot before, and you kind of want to know where, but it seems like the wrong setting to ask a question like that, so you don’t. You’ll ask him next time. 

Next time. You almost want to laugh as you realize you’re subconsciously planning to meet Jung Jaehyun again. It’s not like you were expecting to never see him again, but it’s the want behind the words that catch you a little off guard. The fact that you want to meet with him again. 

“Four hours?” you ask finally, joining him in watching the road. “Couldn’t be me.”

“What do you major in, then? English?”

“Nope,” you clown him and he smiles wider. “Journalism. I might be the reporter interviewing you after your next match, so you better be nice to me.”

“I see,” he uses his free hand to fish out his phone from his pocket, pressing it against his lips as if it’s a microphone. “So you’re gonna be all like ‘Hello, everyone, I’m here with national football team member Jung Jaehyun, who just scored fifteen goals in the match against—’”

“Fifteen? You think you’re gonna score fifteen goals?”

“Well, of course. Don’t you believe in me?” His face forms into a mock-offended expression. 

“If I say no, will you throw me out of the car?”

“Probably.” 

You grin widely. “Then I believe in you a hundred percent.” 

The drive ends earlier than expected — maybe it’s true what they say, that time passes by quicker when you’re having fun — and suddenly, Jaehyun’s parking the car outside of your university. Many people are already there, and you spot Beomgyu and Dahyun standing by the entrance. Jaehyun turns off the engine and you reach for the belt, but even as you push down on the button with all your strength, it won’t budge. 

“What the hell?” you mumble, pulling at the belt harder in annoyance. 

You feel Jaehyun’s hand on your wrist and look up, only to see him leaning in your direction. For a moment, your heart stills and your body freezes. His hair falls into his eyes as his nose stills a mere centimeter from your own and his hand rests on the part of the seat right next to your head. From the corner of your eye, you can glimpse his arm muscles flexing, his brows furrowed in concentration. Is he about to kiss you? If so, you should totally push him away, but you can barely register what’s happening before he’s pulling away again, sinking back into his seat. 

What the hell did he do that for? 

“The car’s a bit old.” 

You blink a couple times, brain trying to process just how the fact that his car is old correlates to anything that just happened. You stare at him for a moment, waiting for him to explain himself or something, but he just raises a brow, like you’re the one acting weird. 

That’s when you notice the seatbelt no longer restraining your movements. Oh. Oh. He was loosening your seatbelt for you because you couldn’t do it. 

Holy fuck, just how dumb can you be? Your heart hiccups inside your chest and you almost want to bang your head against the headboard of the car. For a moment of clarity, you slip out from your seat and leave the car, closing the door behind you. A second later, Jaehyun does, too and he looks at you from over the car. 

“Thanks,” You tell him, feeling a little bad you just got up from the car like that. “For driving me and for, uh, loosening the seatbelt for me.” 

The smile makes its way back to his face. “No problem.” 

Fuck, his happiness is contagious. You don’t even try to fight back your own smile. A glance down on your phone tells you your classes are about to start, so you tell him you need to go and giggle softly when he presses his lips out in a pout. He bids you goodbye with his hands in his pockets, leaning against his car. 

And just like that, you make your way to the university building, grinning like crazy. A pair of girls walk by, and you swear you hear them say your name, but they look away the moment you meet their gaze, so you don’t think too much of it. Your friends are waiting for you by the entrance and you greet them normally, a little taken aback when you see Dahyun’s frown and Beomgyu’s unusually grinning face for it to be half past eight in the morning. 

“Y/N,” Dahyun starts as you’re walking to the classroom. “Please tell me I’m wrong, but did I just see you getting out of Jung Jaehyun’s car?”

“I—”

“I knew it! You guys are totally fucking. I can see it in your eyes,” Beomgyu exclaims before you can even respond to Dahyun’s question. “Tell me your secrets, please. How did you bag the hottest player on the football team?” 

“I didn’t bag anybody,” You whisper-shout, looking around frantically as if someone’s going to listen in on your conversation. “We’re just neighbors.”

“And you let every neighbor of yours drive you to school?” Dahyun’s judgemental stare makes you feel bad. What if she’s mad at you? 

“No, I guess not, but—”

She cuts you off, lips forming into a smile as she grabs you by the shoulders. “Then why didn’t you tell me sooner, you idiot?” 

“What?” You look between her and Beomgyu, utterly confused. 

“I’m supposed to be your best friend, you shouldn’t keep secrets from me,” Dahyun pouts. “I’m not mad you’re talking to him, but hello, don’t I deserve to at least know how big his dick is?” 

You burst out laughing, relief washing over you. Thank God they’re not angry, because you have no idea what you would do without their useless comments and endless teasing. “And how am I supposed to know that?”

“Because you bagged him,” Beomgyu sings awfully loudly. 

You push him. “No, I didn’t!” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Dahyun stops you from lounging at him. “Just promise me you’ll tell me everything from now on, okay? I want to know every little detail about this ‘friendship’ or whatever. Don’t you realize this is the most exciting thing that’s happened since Seonghwa’s party last weekend?” 

You laugh. “Okay. I promise.” 

And you walk into class pretty happy with the outcome of things. 

—

It’s not before your classes have ended that you hear the rumors spreading. 

It happens by accident the first time you hear someone talk about it. A group of girls is standing by the vending machine as you’re buying a coca cola, and you happen to overhear their conversation. Or at least, a part of it. You pretty much only catch your name and Jaehyun’s, and then one of the girls nudges their friends and gesticulates to you. That makes them walk away, and you’re left standing by the vending machine baffled. 

What’s even more surprising, Dahyun doesn’t know anything when you ask her about it. It’s only when the two of you approach Minjeong, a gossip girl at most, that you find out what this whole ordeal is about. 

“People are saying you’re dating Jung Jaehyun,” She tells you like it’s obvious. “Someone saw you getting out of a car with him, so everyone is on edge because he might be off limits now. ” 

“Well, you can tell them he’s not off limits,” you say instantly. “Because we’re not dating.”

Then you head directly to the football field. 

You see him the moment you arrive — Jung Jaehyun in all his glory, hair sweaty and legs quick as he dribbles the ball. He’s in the middle of the field, way too far away for you to shout at him. Hesitantly, you walk closer to the sidelines, where the substitute players sit. You spot who you suppose is Jaehyun’s coach, shouting something you can’t quite make out to those on the field. 

You watch them play and for just a moment, you forget why you’re here. At that moment, as you glimpse Jaehyun passing the ball to one of his teammates, you kind of understand why people go to football matches. There’s something nice about seeing people so passionate and letting that passion be the only thing occupying your thoughts. 

Jaehyun’s yell fills the air not a minute later — your own lungs tightening in something that resembles fear, because what if he’s hurt himself? — but then he turns around and he’s smiling wider than you’ve ever seen him smile, and you become aware that he scored a goal. And there’s that passion again. You can't help but smile.

“Can I help you?” It’s his coach that breaks your train of thought, walking up to you with a curious look on his face. 

“Oh, right,” You say. “I’m just here for Jaehyun.”

He sends you a somewhat pitiful look. “Want me to give him your number and have him call you back later? Jaehyun doesn’t really like responding to date proposals during practice.”

“Excuse me?” 

“Hey, coach, it’s fine,” Jaehyun walks over to where you and his coach are standing. Half of his team follows him — some of which are looking at you curiously, while others completely ignore your presence. You turn to Jaehyun with an eyebrow raised and he smiles sheepishly. “Sorry about that, it’s just—”

“—Sometimes all those girls get a little too much?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. 

He smiles again. “Yeah, something like that.” 

You tell him it’s fine and that you want to talk to him for a second, but it seems that he has different plans from how he grabs your wrist and drags you in the opposite direction of where you wanted. You ask him what the hell he’s doing, but he keeps silent and brings you back to the football field.

Now you’re left standing in between a dozen football players and their coach with Jung Jaehyun’s hand holding yours. Great, this is certainly going to help you get rid of whatever rumor is stirring up at campus about you two. 

“Okay, listen up, everyone,” You stare at him with wide eyes as he catches everyone’s attention. “This is Y/N, and she’s my friend, so I don’t want anyone acting stupid around her or I’ll hit them in the head with a football.” 

And just like that you’ve been (against your will) introduced to the whole football team. Oh, Jaehyun is so in for it when you get him alone. You swear you’re going to rip all of that healthy hair off his scalp. That doesn’t happen, though. Instead, you kick him in the shin with all your might after having dragged him behind the university building. 

“Ow!” He groans and you almost smile, but hold yourself back upon realizing you can’t break character like that. “What was that for?”

“I just don’t like you,” you say, then sigh. “Have you heard what people are saying about us?”

“People are saying stuff about us?”

You roll your eyes at his cluelessness, but not before your heart jumps all the way to your throat at how unbelievably good he looks. This is just objective, by the way, and has nothing to do with your personal opinion. It’s just that nobody should look good after running around a football field for four hours, but somehow, Jung Jaehyun does. 

You’re not sure what does it for you — whether it’s his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead or the compression shirt you oh-so-hate literally having become one with his body — but all of it just makes you want to die. Because this is Jung Jaehyun we’re talking about and he’s just some guy that thinks he’s better than everyone else and you don’t like him at all.

But then your brain decides to remind you that this is also the Jung Jaehyun that wants to make the national team and picks flowers for his mom and drives you to school when you’re running late. And your heart doesn’t like that. Not at all. 

“People think we’re dating,” you say finally. “Because you drove me to school.”

“And?” 

“What do you mean ‘and?’” You glare in his direction, but he only shrugs. “Do you know how fast rumors spread around this university? Soon everyone is going to—”

“And what if they do? Do you really care that much what others think of you?” You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. He tilts his head to the side, and when you don't respond, he takes a step in your direction, only another step away from caging you against the wall of the building. For some weird reason, it makes you nervous having him this close to you, so you step back until your back hits the wall. “Besides, would it really be that bad if what they’re saying were true?” 

“What?” 

You should tell him he’s stupid, or punch him, or do anything, but instead, you do absolutely nothing. Physically, that is — your mind is a whole different story. Your thoughts fly around in your brain so fast it makes you dizzy. Or maybe it’s Jaehyun’s words that are making you lightheaded, you’re not sure. 

Actually, you’re not sure about anything at that moment. Your first thought is that he’s acting way too arrogant again — that he’s trying to somehow make you admit you want to date him, or something like that. And that’s so ridiculous because you don’t want to date him at all — he’s truly pushing his luck now. Has ever since he asked to be your friend. 

But then images of him flash through your mind, his smile, his laugh, his passion, and it hits you like a truck — the nausea is so strong you think you might pass out. He’s gone completely insane, suggesting something like that — there’s no doubt about that — but aren’t you equally as insane for even playing out that scenario in your head? No. You throw the thought onto the ground and stomp on it, like it’s useless. Which, essentially, it is. 

No, you’re not doing this today. 

Upon seeing your expression. Jaehyun takes a step back. Maybe he thinks you’re disgusted. A part of you wants to assure him that you’re not, but the rational part screams at you to shut the fuck up and say nothing. Incidentally, it seems that Jaehyun has something to say. 

“Relax, it’s just a joke.”

That throws you off for multiple reasons. One, he’s acting like you just ruined his fun or something, and it makes you mad. Like it’s not you that just went through a year’s worth of scenarios in your head, trying to figure out what to say. Trying to figure out what to think. Two, he could've said it was a joke sooner, instead of just standing there like an idiot, seeing your face form into an expression of pure horror.

And three, you feel so fucking stupid for not even considering it being a joke. Because it seems so obvious now, as you think back on it, that he was just kidding. God, where did you even get the idea he was being serious? 

The embarrassment mixed with his gaze gets too overwhelming, so you do what any sane person would have done in your position. You walk away. 

You make it twenty steps before guilt stirs up in your stomach. What if he’s mad? What if he thinks you hate him? You truly have no idea why you even care about that — you don’t care about it, right? He’s just some football player, you remind yourself. A football player that hit you in the head with a football. But thinking about that doesn’t help at all, considering how getting hit in the head with a football was exactly how this thing started. 

What if it had never happened? What if he hadn’t kicked that ball in the wrong direction? He would have been a stranger to you, and you would only be a face in the crowd for him. Your name would never settle on his tongue. His dad wouldn’t have to get mad at him for taking the car without permission. And you… you wouldn’t have to feel guilty for walking away from your school’s football team’s forward center. 

But you wouldn’t have known that warm feeling spreading in your chest upon seeing his smile, either. Nor would you know how it feels like to feel happy just by talking to someone. Or just by listening to someone speak. 

The walk home suddenly becomes so long you almost want to sit in the middle of the path and wait for Jaehyun to come along. It turns out you don’t have to do that, because just as the thought crosses your mind, you hear the revving of an engine and an all too familiar black BMW appears a couple meters to your left. You don’t know if it’s fully surprising, but it definitely is somewhat unexpected when Jaehyun stops the car and rolls down his window to stick his head out in your direction.

“You getting in or what?” 

For some reason, your stomach decides to do a dozen flips at that moment, but you ignore them and climb into the car. Jaehyun doesn’t say anything at first — his eyes simply scan you quickly, resting a little longer on your eyes than necessary, and he turns on the engine again after he’s made sure your seatbelt is fastened. 

“I bought coffee,” he says finally, eyes fixed on the road, and motions towards a cup of coffee lying in his cup holder. “Latte with two cubes of sugar, right?” 

“Yeah,” you say, grinning. “Thank you.”

His eyes flick to yours just for a moment, and his lips quirk up in a smile when he notices your expression. “You’re not annoyed?”

You look at him — his sweaty clothes, his stupid smile, the soft tapping of his fingers against the steering wheel. The trees outside are passing by quickly, the sound of the car blending in with the music quietly playing from the speakers. You’re hesitating for a split second, hand tightening around the cup of coffee that feels warm under your fingertips. The sun comes into sight at that moment, blending you as you first look at it, then lighting up the inside of the car. 

All hesitation fades, but not abruptly — it just flows out of your mind like water in a river. The sun remains still, but fragile, like what you say right now might scare it away. But you have no intention of scaring it away — why would you? It’s the same sun that envelopes you in a tight hug as you feel hopeless, the same sun that makes you smile. The sun that piqued your interest and doesn’t want to let go. 

“Well,” you take a sip of your coffee. “You’re a little stupid, but I already knew that. So no,” The sun lights up Jaehyun’s face as you smile. “I’m not annoyed.”

It’s as the words leave your mouth that you realize they’re true. 

—

After that, you and Jaehyun start walking home from school together. 

On days you finish class before him, he sits in the library and does his homework until you text him that you’re done. When his practice lasts until five, you make your way over to the field and sit on the tribunes, waiting for him to end the match. He loses track of time so often you almost become friends with his coach — a guy you find out has lots of comments to make as he watches the boys play. You don’t understand half of what he’s saying at first, but gradually, you learn — life makes a lot more sense after he explains what offside means.

Sometimes Jaehyun even drives you to school (he claims he’s got permission, but you don’t really believe him) even though his classes start half an hour after yours. One those days you pay him back by buying him Red Bull and watching him get way too much energy from it. 

Today is no different. You’re walking out the front door with a bag containing Red Bull and some side dishes from your mom in your hand, phone pressed against your ear as you try calling Jaehyun for the nth time. Your mom shouts something in your direction just as you’re closing the door behind you, but you don’t hear her, too focused on the sound of Jaehyun’s voicemail. 

“Asshole,” You mumble to yourself, dialing his number again. A long sigh escapes your lips when he doesn’t answer. Again. 

The lights in his room are off when you walk over there to check, so you scratch that from the list of possible places to look. Where else can he be at eight in the evening? You think for a while, and then an idea pops into your head.

The football field. 

You nod as if agreeing with yourself and start the walk to the one place you suspect Jaehyun might be. He better actually be there, because it’s getting dark and you have no other ideas as to where he might be. Plus, you’re not that keen on looking for him for three hours this late. 

The way to the football field seems much longer than it really is when you don’t have Jaehyun by your side and when the wind starts messing up your hair. By the time you’ve arrived it’s completely dark outside, and the only source of light is the moon and the lampposts by the small stadium. You almost want to go back when you don’t see Jaehyun anywhere — the air is getting chilly and you’re getting annoyed — but then, finally, he comes into your sight and you sigh in relief. 

He’s wearing black shorts and a jacket to shield him from the cold, one hand pushing his hair away from his face like always, while the other is holding his football. You stand by the edge of the field, watching as he places the ball on the middle of the fake grass. He doesn’t see you, too focused on aiming at the goal, so you just silently observe him as he kicks it, scoring on the first try. This time, he doesn’t scream in victory, but you can glimpse the shadow of a smile on his face. 

It brings a smile to your own features, seeing him this happy. He shoots the ball a couple more times, successfully scoring even as he increases the distance between him and the goal, his hair bouncing each time he runs across the field. You spot his phone on one of the side benches and roll your eyes softly, putting it into your pocket instead so he doesn’t forget it later. Your eyes dart back to his figure just as he kicks the ball again — this time missing — and you hear the groan of frustration he lets out even though you’re standing twenty meters away. 

Overachiever, you think to yourself, noticing how his thighs are a little shaky as he walks over to get the ball again. How long has he been here? He misses again, and you frown as he shouts out in anger. Yeah, he’s definitely been out here way too long. 

“Hey, Mr. I’m-too-busy-to-answer-my-calls,” you finally shout, catching his attention. The corners of his mouth lift up in a smile when he sees you, and you wave the bag of food and Red Bull at him from afar. “You hungry?” 

He jogs over to you with the football tucked under his arm. “You bet.”

There are bags under his eyes, and his forehead is littered with sweat. He looks tired. Still, he’s smiling — and somehow, from under all that exhaustion, the smile reaches his eyes. 

“How long have you been here?” you ask him, sitting down on the grass. He sits across from you watching with hungry eyes as you unpack the food.

“A little over three hours now, I think.” He opens a can of Red Bull immediately and takes a sip of it, missing the way your eyes grow wide at his response. “I have a game next week, remember? Some club coaches are going to be there, so I need to do well if I want to be noticed.”

You lay out the food and hand him a pair of chopsticks. His shoulders look so slumpy you actually need to swallow down the urge to tell him to go home and rest. He wouldn’t listen to you anyway. Instead, you take some kimchi between your chopsticks and put them against his lips. “You’ll do well.”

He opens his mouth and slides the food off with his teeth. “You think so?”

“Obviously.” You roll your eyes and nudge his leg with your foot. “Now eat. You can’t play for a football club if you’re unconscious.”

Jaehyun hums in response and obeys, stuffing his face full of rice. You eat in silence, slowly chewing on the food as your eyes scan his face. It’s funny, but for the first time you notice the freckles littered across his cheeks. You’d seen them before, you suppose, just never noticed them fully. For a moment, you try to count them, but give up when he starts chewing his food and you lose track of which ones you’ve counted and which ones you haven’t. 

You watch as his energy comes back slowly, his expression cheerful as he’s done eating. He helps you clean everything up and throw away the soda cans, then, as you’re getting ready to leave, he bumps your shoulder. 

“Let’s play football.”

“What?” You raise your brows, looking at him incredulously. “You want me to play football? Is your brain fried from the Red Bull or something? Let’s just go home.”

He grabs your wrist before you can walk further away and when you turn around, he’s standing there with a pout on his face. 

“Just one game,” He pleads, tugging at your hand. “Please?” 

The warmth from his skin spreads across your body, and you hesitate. You hate playing sports, and playing with Jaehyun will most definitely result in you having to face the embarrassment of not being able to kick the ball correctly. Still, something jumps in your chest at the fact that you’ll spend less time with him if you decide to just leave. That resolves it. 

You sigh. “Fine.” 

He grins widely, dragging you across the football field. You have no choice but to follow, painfully aware of his fingers laced through yours. It’s not like it bothers you, at least you don’t think it does, but it’s different than what you’re used to, especially when it comes to him. You decide you’re thinking too much about it, and breathe out as he lets go of you to put the ball in the middle of the field. 

What you can’t seem to determine is whether that’s a sigh of relief or loss. 

“You know how to play, right?”

“Yeah,” You say, anxiously rummaging through your thoughts in order to remember everything his coach and those stupid football youtube videos told you. You only watched those in case some of Jaehyun’s teammates ever decided to ask you about your opinion on their game, but you suppose this is where they’ll come in handy. “Kind of.”

He laughs at the uncertainty in your voice. “I can work with that.” 

He steps back, motioning for you to start. Okay, you think to yourself, it’s going to be easy. You just need to dribble the ball, run past Jaehyun with it, and kick it into the goal. How hard could can that be?

It turns out it can be, and is, very hard. Especially when you’re playing against Jung Jaehyun. 

You somehow manage to keep the ball in check until you reach where he’s standing, but that’s when everything goes wrong. It’s like the football somehow levitates to his foot the moment he gets close enough, and his leg doesn’t even have to touch you for him to steal it away from you and score a goal a millisecond later. If you weren’t totally indifferent to football, you might’ve started crying from the humiliation just about now. 

You half-expect Jaehyun to end it there, but he doesn’t. Instead, he passes the ball to you and you barely manage to stop it before it rolls further down the field. He smiles that annoying smile of his — not a pitiful one that you were expecting, but rather a genuine one that forces you to swallow down your embarrassment. 

This time it works out better — you manage to get past Jaehyun, pushing him in the process which you’re sure would’ve gotten you a red card in a real match. 

“Hey, that’s against the rules!” 

You laugh, and faintly, from behind the wind rustling in your ears, you hear him laugh, too. His footsteps get louder behind you and you panic, shooting the ball, only halfway aiming at the goal. It doesn’t surprise you when it hits the metal pole on the left and bounces back, right between Jaehyun’s feet. 

“You can’t kick it like that if you want to score a goal,” he scolds you playfully as you turn around to face him, a little out of breath while he looks entirely relaxed. 

“Well, I don’t know how to kick it to score a goal,” you whine, throwing your hands up in the air. 

Jaehyun’s lips form a toothy grin, eyes lingering on your frame for a little longer than they probably should. Your hair’s a mess from running and your shirt has slid down your shoulder, exposing the strap of your bra. It’s weird how the sight suddenly makes his face feel warm — like when you told him he’d do well. Have you always looked this pretty, or is he just going crazy? Maybe you’re right and his brain actually got fried from all that red bull. 

He clears his throat as if to clear his thoughts and motions for you to come closer, eyes persistently looking anywhere but your exposed skin. “I’ll teach you, c’mere.” 

“Okay.”

You walk closer, gasping softly when he turns you around so you’re facing the goal, your back a couple inches away from his chest. He hates how much he likes that sound, how right it feels when his fingers brush over your skin in order to pull your shoulders back. His hot breath lands on your neck and you try your best not to shiver — he’s just showing you how to play football, for fuck’s sake, it isn’t that deep. The breath you take is, though. Deeper than it should be and you hope to God he doesn’t notice. 

“Your foot is supposed to move like this,” He demonstrates with his own foot, but you can’t really focus on anything besides his raspy voice right by your ear. “Just one fluid movement. You get it?” 

“Yeah.” 

But you don’t understand any of it — the quick beating of your heart, your ears that are ringing, the cold air that suddenly is out of reach when it was forcing itself on you mere seconds ago. None of it makes any sense at all, but you still nod your head in order for it not to seem too weird when you wriggle out of his grasp. 

Your eyes meet his when you turn around and he passes the ball to you again. His smile is pretty, just like it always is, but this time, your heart beats harder against your chest when you see it. You kick the ball and prepare yourself to have it taken away from you, but Jaehyun stands still as you pass him. Thanks to that, you manage to run up the field and score a goal. 

Before you can think twice about it, you turn around and smile in Jaehyun’s direction, voice laced with excitement as you shout. “I did it!”

He can’t hold back the grin that creeps onto his face. You look happy, he thinks, and your smile looks so sincere it makes something turn in his stomach. He almost wants to run up to you and hold you in his arms — he could’ve used the excuse that he’s proud of you for scoring, it wouldn’t be a complete lie — but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. Or himself. 

“Of course you did, you’ve got the best teacher in the world,” he says instead, walking over to where you’re standing. “Let’s play for real now. First to score five goals wins.”

“So you’re telling me this wasn’t for real?” you ask with a pout and he chuckles. You’re about to walk to the middle of the field to play again when you feel a hand grab your wrist. 

Jaehyun turns you around and your confused eyes meet his when he takes a step closer, so his chest is only a few centimeters away from your face. “Wait a second,” he says, but it comes out more like a whisper. 

Before you get the chance to protest, his hand leaves your wrist and comes up to tug at your shirt instead. He pulls it further up your shoulder to hide the bra strap peeking through, and the way your skin forms goosebumps under his fingertips makes him bite his lip. It seems this whole action is having the opposite effect than he wanted it to. 

“I don’t want you to catch a cold,” he explains.

It’s not a complete lie, but he has to admit covering you up had more to do with his wandering eyes than anything else. Still, you nod sweetly, and continue your way to the middle of the field. He follows you, reminded of what he’s here for. You’re playing football, and if there’s anything he’s good at, it’s that. But if that’s the case, why is his heart beating faster than normal?

He tells himself it’s the adrenaline, but it makes no sense even for him — you haven’t even started playing yet. 

Your blood pressure is still way too high as you kick the ball to Jaehyun, you’re sure of it. Yet you try to ignore it and focus on the game — you’re gonna need it. His foot stops it with ease, and in no time, he’s running with the ball almost glued to his shoes. He makes it way too close to the goal you’re supposed to be guarding, before you manage to remind yourself that you're here to play, not watch him mindlessly. 

And so you play. It doesn’t take long before Jaehyun scores two goals, shouting in triumph each time like he isn’t playing against someone who’s basically never touched a football before. You don’t mind it as much as you let on, though, and the whole thing actually becomes a little fun when you figure out how to regain the ball. 

You run and chase each other — he scores another goal and so do you (you’re pretty sure he went easy on you, just so you wouldn’t be discouraged) and then he scores twice again. That’s five goals, but he doesn’t stop playing, and neither do you. You play for almost fifteen minutes, in which he scores probably more than twenty goals, before you manage to catch him off guard and score a goal he isn’t prepared for. 

“Oh my god, did you see that?” You turn to him, jumping up and down like a kid. 

“You did well,” he shouts and you grin at him, pride swelling up in your chest at his expression. 

That’s when it starts raining. First, it’s just a couple drops, one hitting the tip of your nose, and then it’s pouring down, wetting your hair and clothes. You look up at the sky with a soft smile, faintly hearing Jaehyun whine in the distance.

“How come it’s always raining when we’re together?” he groans. 

“The sky wants to cry when it sees you, probably,” you reply, jogging up to him. Maybe if he was busy thinking about the rain, you’d be able to take the ball from him. “Stop complaining so much.”

But ultimately, he was right — the field is slippery and wet when it’s raining. This, you find it in the worst way possible. Namely by slipping right as you’re trying to take the ball from Jaehyun, your hands dragging him down with you as you fall. 

Jaehyun feels his heart stop for a second there as both of you fall to the ground. The rain is pouring harder than ever — his shirt is sticky, his hair is wet, but he feels lighter than ever as he props himself on his elbows not to crush you completely. Raindrops trickle down his face and fall onto yours — your nose scrunches as the cold water hits your skin, and the. it's sliding down your jaw to slip into your shirt. You. You're soaking, too, with your white shirt clinging to your body, letting him see the outline of your bra from underneath it. He does his best to keep his gaze on the grass, but his eyes seem to gravitate towards you no matter how hard he tries.

You look beautiful in that moment — he tries for a long time, but finds no other way to describe it. Just beautiful. You're smiling, no, laughing, and he feels your heartbeat against his chest like it's his own.

Suddenly, he wonders what it would be like to kiss you. It's new, that thought, but somehow it also feels familiar. Like it's always been there, buried somewhere inside his head, but only now has come up to the surface. Would you like it if he kissed you? Looking at your face, he truly can't tell. 

“Get off of me, Jaehyun!” you fake-cough and he laughs. “Do you want me to die?”

“I know CPR,” he replies, but makes no effort to stop you as you push him off. 

You'd expected him to hold back, but he doesn't, so you roll over one too many times, until he's the one lying with his back against the grass and you're straddling him. Oh, fuck. 

You freeze in your spot, every muscle in your body tightening as you realize just what you’ve done. It takes you a second to process it — how you’re looking right into his dark eyes, how you can feel his chest heaving from underneath you, abdominal muscles flexing right beneath your core. And even as you understand it, your body just won’t move. Especially when Jaehyun’s hands suddenly rest on your waist, causing your eyes to go wide, but your body staying still. 

It’s an innocent act, really. He just wants to help you get off of him. That’s his initial motive, at least. But Jaehyun kind of forgets how to think when his fingers unintentionally slip a little under your shirt and he comes in contact with your bare waist. It’s not like he’s never touched a girl’s skin before — he’s had a couple girlfriends, and he’s touched all of them — but it’s something about the fact that it’s you that makes his heart beat faster. 

He wonders for a brief moment whether your heart’s beating like crazy, too. Then you lay the palm of your hand on his bicep and he’s brought back to reality. Right. He wanted to help you get back down on the grass. 

His arms lift you off of him with ease and he helps you sit down on the field, your vision and thoughts only now clearing fully. You look at him, a little dazed, feeling the rain drip down your face. 

Jaehyun sends you a worried look. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” you tell him, only then realizing it’s true. 

“Wanna go home?”

You ponder on that for a second, looking up at the sky. It’s pouring and it doesn’t look like it’s going to stop any time soon. At this rate, you’ll probably catch a cold. Still, you don’t feel like going home. For some weird, twisted reason, you want to stay here with Jaehyun. 

And so you say, “Not yet.” 

He nods, looking as if he’s in deep thought. You lie down on the wet grass next to his sitting frame, sighing deeply.  It takes a few nudges of your finger poking into Jaehyun’s ribs for him to understand you want him to lie down with you, and when he does, his face forms into an expression of disgust.

“The grass is wet,” he comments with his nose scrunched. 

“Yeah, that’s usually the phenomenon that occurs after it rains.” 

He rolls his eyes, but keeps silent. You smile softly, following in his steps. The sky is pitch black, and it’s most definitely way too late to be lying on the wet grass of a football field with Jung Jaehyun, but at that moment, you can’t bring yourself to care. 

As subtly as you can, you tilt your head to the side to look at Jaehyun. His eyes are closed, mouth slightly open, and for a second, you think he might have fallen asleep. You shuffle a tad bit closer, just to make sure you can hear his breathing — which you can — but you end up staying there, with your hair resting on his shoulder. You’re unable to tell if it bothers him, so you just lie there, eyes flicking back to the sky and the few stars that are peeking through the clouds. 

“You wanna know a secret, Y/N?” He breaks the silence a minute or two later, his head turning in your direction as he looks at you through lidded eyes. The rain drips down his face, all the way to his lips, where it disappears into his mouth. You nod slowly, your heart beating nervously as the air around you seems to thicken. It’s almost like you can sense it — how he’s hesitating, how his heart is about to beat out from his chest.

“I’m scared,” He whispers finally. head falling forward so it rests against yours. “I’m really fucking scared.”

It’s like the earth stops spinning. Though that might just be the feeling of dizziness that comes with your blood pressure skyrocketing momentarily. His forehead burns your skin, but it’s more of a warm embrace rather than deadly flames. The rain’s slowing down, you notice only by watching his face, only a few of his freckles hidden behind raindrops.  

“What are you scared of?” 

Your voice is equally as quiet, like you’re afraid of scaring him off. Mostly, though, it’s because you don’t trust your voice not to quiver when he’s this close to you. Something about touching him makes you nervous, though you’re not sure why. 

“I don’t know. Everything, I guess,” He sighs and pauses, moving his head to rest in the crook of your neck instead. You listen as he takes a few deep breaths, and feel them against the skin of your throat — warm air against cool flesh. “I’m scared that it won’t work out. That I won’t make the national team, and this will all be for nothing.”

You scrunch your nose as he moves away from you to glue his eyes to the sky instead. “You will make the national team, though.” 

“Even my parents don’t believe that,” He scoffs, but his voice breaks midway in the sentence and it’s like it tears your heart apart with it. “They don’t even want me to try out for the team, you know. They think I’m wasting my time and energy on something I’m not sure I can achieve. My dad wants me to study law or medicine, and my mom… I think she just wants to stop worrying whether I’ll get a job after college or not.”

You stay silent for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts. Jaehyun’s breathing is heavy, his jaw clenched. You want to do something to ease his mind — hug him, tell him you believe in him, buy him all the red bull in the world — just anything. But you don’t know what to do or what to say, because you’ve never seen him like this. Vulnerable. 

Finally, you take a deep breath. “It’s understandable she’s worried—” 

“I know, but—”

“You didn’t let me finish,” You want it to come off as sharp, but it doesn’t. It does catch Jaehyun’s attention, though, and he turns to you again. “It’s understandable she’s worried, but if your parents doubt you can make the national team, they must be completely clueless to just how fucking stubborn you are.”

He blinks — you don’t know whether that’s a sign he’s confused or he’s listening attentively. Maybe it’s both. 

Without thinking it through too much, you place your hand on his. It’s just your skin resting against his, you’re not brave enough to hold his hand properly, but it still makes your heart pick up its pace. You’re not sure why you do it — whether it is to comfort him or yourself, but something in your stomach jumps as Jaehyun’s eyes flicker down to where your hands are connected. 

A sense of fear flashes through your head. What if holding his hand did the opposite of what you wanted? What if he’s disgusted? For a moment, you feel so nervous you think you might die. 

But then his fingers move across your skin and you look down just in time to catch him interlacing his fingers with yours. Suddenly, your skin is filled with goosebumps, and you have the suspicion it isn’t solely from the cold rain. You look at him, but his eyes still rest on the grass separating you two. Which is kind of relieving, because you need a second to calm yourself down and recollect your thoughts. 

“I mean, look at you,” you pick up where you left off, finally finding the right words, and only then does Jaehyun’s gaze find its way back to your face. “You’re the guy that started playing football against high schoolers in middle school because the people your age got mad you always won. Sorry to disappoint your parents, but you’re gonna make the national team. I know you will.” 

His chest heaves with every breath, strands of wet hair all up in his face. It’s stopped raining, and only then do you realize just how cold it is. Jaehyun stays silent for a few moments, his eyes never leaving yours. And just like how people say they drown in someone’s eyes, you find yourself swimming in his gaze. Floating, because drowning would mean dying and you’ve never felt more alive than right now. 

Jaehyun forces you out of your thoughts by moving your intertwined hands so they lie between your faces instead. 

“Thank you,” he whispers. You’re about to shrug it off, but he cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence. “Don’t you dare say it’s nothing. I mean it.”

“I wasn’t going to say that.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” he smiles for the first time since you lied down on the grass, and you shiver. His eyes don’t fail to notice, and he’s quick to say, “Let’s go home, I’m freezing.”

He’s not freezing, though. Actually, there’s some kind of weird, warm sensation bubbling in his chest as he stands up and pulls you with him. His fingers leave yours, which for some reason makes him feel a little sad, and he takes off his jacket, the cold air hitting him harder than ever. You raise your eyebrows, probably wondering why the hell he’s taking off his clothes when he just said he’s freezing. 

“Take this,” he hands you the jacket, which on second thought he realizes is completely soaked through and will probably do nothing to shield you from the cold. Jesus, he feels so dumb he wishes the ground would swallow him up. “Uh, it’s a little wet, but…”

You smile as you take the jacket from his hands. “Thank you.”

Jaehyun watches with a grin as you put it on, rolling up the sleeves that fall past your fingers. He thinks this might have been the best day of his life. 

No, he doesn’t think. This time, he knows. 

—

You never would’ve imagined yourself sprinting to college at 10am on a Saturday in order to watch a football game, yet here you are.

Truthfully, it’s your own fault. Staying up drinking with your friends the night prior probably wasn’t the best idea, but Dahyun complained you were spending too little time with them and too much time with Jaehyun, so you wanted to make it up to her. Little did you know that would result in you being woken up by your phone ringing, Jaehyun’s voice asking you where the fuck you are. 

“I’m on my way, don’t worry,” You had responded, obviously lying — for what reason, Jaehyun wasn’t sure, because he clearly heard it in your voice that you were barely awake. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

That was fifteen minutes ago. Turns out you aren’t a complete liar, though, because just as your phone shows 10:15 (meaning the game starts in five minutes) you have reached the football field, where the tribunes are pretty much packed. You look around to find Dahyun or Beomgyu, but there’s too many people, so you walk closer to the sidelines instead, hoping to spot Jaehyun’s coach. 

You see him outside of the locker room — he’s surrounded by the whole football team, and you catch a glimpse of Jaehyun in his black uniform. His brows are furrowed as he says something, maybe he’s explaining some playing strategy, and then his teammates are nodding along and the coach pats him on the back. You smile softly at the scene, but then a voice announces that the game is starting in two minutes through the speakers and you have the sudden urge to wish Jaehyun good luck. 

“Jaehyun!” You shout, jogging up to him just as he’s about to follow his teammates onto the field. He turns around, and his confused expression molds into a grin as his eyes meet yours. 

“You made it,” He says, and you nod. His gaze moves down to your body, and you wonder if you put on your shirt the wrong way or something, but then he smirks. “Nice jacket, by the way.”

You furrow your brows and look down, only for your heart to skip a beat as you realize what you’re wearing. His jacket. The one he gave you when you were playing football a couple days ago, and you never bothered to give it back because you always forgot about it. And because it smells nice, but you’d never admit that. 

Shit. You must’ve put it on by accident due to being in a hurry this morning. 

“Oh, I was just about to take this off, actually. I just brought it with me to give it to you and—”

“Keep it,” He cuts you off with that awful smirk on his face. Does the football field give him some sort of confidence boost or something? “It looks better on you, anyway.”

It’s almost suffocating, the warmth stirring up in your chest at his words. Like your heart’s tightening and not letting you breathe, except you’re breathing just fine, almost getting drunk on the amount of air in your lungs. It’s a paradox, you suppose, just like you desire to be with him simultaneously to how you hate your heart for beating faster around him. 

“Thanks,” You say. One look at the field and the tribunes overfilled with people makes you remember how much of an important day this is to Jaehyun, so you take a deep breath and say, “Good luck, by the way. Not that you need it.” 

He smiles as the judge blows into his whistle, signaling the game is starting. “How about a good luck kiss?”

“Now you’re really pushing your luck, Jung Jaehyun,” You literally feel your inside turn to mush as you push him further onto the field. “Go play before they start without you. Go!” 

“You gotta watch the whole thing, okay?” He shouts, running backwards as the ball is kicked for the first time and the game starts. “Don’t you dare leave!” 

And just like that, he runs to help his teammates, leaving you on the sidelines with a smile on your face. 

Dahyun and Beomgyu are still nowhere to be seen, so you ask Jaehyun’s coach whether you can sit on the side benches a few moments later when your legs start to get tired from standing. He’s standing alone, too focused on the game to talk to anyone — at least until you approach him. Much to your surprise, he seems like he expected your question and takes you to where the substitute players are seated. 

“Thank God you finally came,” Jaehyun’s coach says as you both sit down, watching the players run across the field. “Jaehyun looked like he was about to cry when I told him there were ten minutes left before the game and you still hadn’t shown up.”

You chuckle. “I think you’re over-exaggerating, Coach.” 

Your eyes are glued to the field when Jaehyun’s team scores their first goal — Jaehyun cheers loudly and so does the audience, and you see a soft smile on his face as he pats his teammate’s back. He looks proud and happy — it’s nice seeing him like that after all the nights he spent preparing for this match. 

“You’re kidding, right?”

You turn your head in the coach’s direction momentarily, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he sends you a knowing smile that you miss when your gaze flicks back to the game. “I’m not over-exaggerating. He’s crazy about you. At practice, he’s unfocused, because he’s waiting for you to come. He leaves early and says he’s tired, but instead of going home, he drives to the coffee shop. Some days his eyes will be drooping and he won’t talk to anyone, but then you sit on the sidelines and suddenly, he’s the happiest man alive.”

The opposing team scores and your heart sinks in your chest, Jaehyun’s frustrated scream filling your ears. You don’t know whether he’s screaming so loudly, or if you’re just hearing his voice because he’s all that matters to you on that field. The coach’s words are like a ticking bomb inside your brain — you can tell from how he’s looking at you from the side that he wants to say something more. Quietly, you pray he won’t, that he’ll forget about this conversation, that your heart will calm down. That Jaehyun will win and you’ll go back home praising him for his skills and he will be happy and you won’t have to think too much about everything that’s messing with your head. 

“I mean, I don’t know what’s going on inside his head, but what I do know is that I’ve never seen Jaehyun act like that before. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he might be in love with you.”

“Good thing we both know better, then,” you reply, but your voice is shaky. Insincere. “Besides, even if he did feel that way, I don’t like him like that at all.”

You’re not sure whether you’re trying to convince Jaehyun’s coach or yourself. 

When the judge announces a break and Jaehyun comes to sit by your side about ten minutes later, there’s a million thoughts inside your head, but you push all of them back to send Jaehyun a smile. 

“You didn’t leave,” he says breathlessly.

“Yet.” 

He pouts. “Mean.” 

You watch as he gets a bottle of water and opens it above his head. The water splashes in his hair and trickles down his face while the sun illuminates his frame. His uniform is clinging to his body with sweat, legs just slightly shaking when he stands up so the water doesn’t spill on you. He looks beautiful, you realize with a bitter heart — so beautiful it makes you want to rip your hair out. 

“You’re staring.”

“Oh, shut up,” you scoff, breath hitching in your throat at his comment and smirk. “I was only looking to tell you you look awful.”

He’s about to retort something, but the whistle blows again and he needs to leave. A little too early for your taste. You get that he’s here to play football, but surely they can afford to give him five more minutes to relax? Your hand moves before your mind, grabbing his wrist before he walks away and turning him around. 

“I won’t leave, just so you know. I was just joking.”

You’re not sure why you say it or why you’re so reluctant on letting him go, but Jaehyun doesn’t question your behavior. At least not out loud. 

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he grins, teeth on display as the wet hair falls into his eyes. 

The judge shouts at him to get back immediately and so, a little panicked and a little infatuated, you reach forward without thinking too much and push the hair strands out of his face. You’ve thought about doing it so many times that it doesn’t dawn on you that you actually pushed his hair out of his eyes before your gaze meets his and you notice the shock on his face. 

“So your aim won’t suck,” You explain quickly. “Don’t want you to hit anyone in the face just because your hair’s in your eyes.”

Jaehyun tries his best to keep the blush from creeping up his neck at your touch and at the way you seem nervous, too. Silently, he makes a promise to himself that if he wins this game, he’ll tell you he wants you to come to every single one of his games from now on. If he doesn’t… well, that would be really fucking embarrassing and he’s trying to impress you here, so he decides to throw that option away completely. 

“Right,” he says to you, unable to hide his smile. 

And then he’s running away with a shit-eating grin on his face. 

When there’s two minutes left of the match and Jaehyun’s team is winning by three goals, you’re smiling like crazy, ready to start shouting in glee any second. 

But as Jaehyun runs close enough for you to see his face clearly, he doesn’t look happy at all. Your eyebrows furrow as you look at him, and in that moment, you truly wish you could read his mind. He should be celebrating, no? It’s certain his team will win. 

That’s when you remember what he said that night roughly a week ago: Some club coaches are going to be there, so I need to do well if I want to be noticed. 

He hasn’t scored any goals for his team, except one that was a penalty kick. You look at him again, and this time it’s obvious — the shame in his eyes. You want to shout at him that he’s stupid to think he did bad just because he hasn’t scored some extraordinary goal, but instead, you settle on squeezing the arm of the bench as hard as you can, until your knuckles turn white. 

“You love him, don’t you?”

“What?” 

You wish the question surprised you more than it did, and you definitely wish the answer to it didn’t pop up in your head immediately. Easily, like it’s an exam question you’ve studied for a week to answer, the exact question you expected to be asked. But you’ve put the pieces together — whether that happened the day he drove you to school or ten seconds ago, you don’t know — and the puzzle doesn’t need any more solving. 

“You love Jaehyun,” the coach repeats, and this time, your whole body breaks out in flames at his words. 

“Yeah,” you say finally, eyes on Jaehyun as he manages to take the ball from someone on the opposing team. “Yeah, I do.” 

Jaehyun’s foot moves smoothly — one fluid movement, just like he told you — as he kicks it. It cuts through air quickly, but it’s enough time for everyone to hold their breaths in suspense, the tribunes growing deadly quiet. You don’t dare make a sound. But then it falls right into the goal, passing by the keeper’s shaky hands and the silence shatters with the sound of Jaehyun’s scream. It’s joy, pure happiness in the form of his voice and when he falls down on his knees with a smile wider than ever, you think you’d do just about anything to see him this happy again. 

His teammates surround him like moths drawn to a flame as the judge announces the game is over, mere seconds later. You’re just like them, in a way, because you can’t hold yourself back from standing up and walking onto the field yourself. 

“Jaehyun!” 

He turns from his teammates, meeting your gaze from where he’s standing a couple meters away from you. You send him a smile and suddenly, something wet is settling in the edge of your eyes. You blink it away, kind of embarrassed, yet it doesn’t stop you from practically running into his arms as he spreads them invitingly. 

You wrap your arms around his waist. nuzzling your head in his chest as his arms pull you into a warm embrace. His team is probably confused to no end, he thinks, but really, as long as it doesn’t bother you, he doesn’t care. No, actually, he does care, but only about the elation that stirs up in his heart at being this close to you, at smelling your hair, hearing your breath. It’s stupid, probably, but for the first time, his disappointed father wasn’t the first person to occupy his thoughts after he scored.

It was you. 

He pushes you away softly, only far enough to look down on your face while keeping his arms around your middle.

“Hi.” 

You smile up at him and it’s perfect. All of it — the crowd screaming for him, the adrenaline in his veins, you. He loves all of it. 

And so he responds with a “Hey,” and does what any other sane person would do.

He kisses you. 

He’s not sure what gives him the final push. Whether it’s the adrenaline from the match, your smile, or that intense feeling of pure love that fills him up to the brim, until it finally spills over and his lips land on yours. 

It’s not like he imagined, the kiss. In his daydreams, his pulse was steady and his heartbeat slow, lips moving in sync with your without mistake. Now, his palms are getting sweaty and his heart is beating out of his chest and there’s so much he wants to feel at once that his lips aren’t enough. His hands rest on your waist, but they shiver, and he wonders if it bothers you. You don’t seem to mind, though, so he brings his fingers to tilt your chin up a little, slipping his tongue inside your mouth. 

The sun warms up your face when he deepens the kiss — at least that’s what you tell yourself, feeling your whole body heat up the moment your chest is pulled flush against him. Your fingers sink into his hair, heart beating dangerously fast as you taste him on your tongue. It’s like some sort of mantra — just Jaehyun, Jaehyun, Jaehyun inside your head. 

Even as he pulls away to breathe, all the cheering coming from his teammates barely reaches your ears, drowned out by the sound of his breathing heavy against your lips. 

You love him. There’s no doubt about that; not anymore. There might’ve been before — you can’t really remember when your brain’s foggy from the fact that you just kissed Jung Jaehyun — but now, you simply feel like your heart will explode any second if he doesn’t kiss you again. 

“Y/N,” He says instead and you look at him expectantly.

“Yeah?”

“You wanna know a secret?” 

“Always,” you reply, voice a little shaky. It’s true, though — you want to hear all his secrets and store them away in the deepest corner of your soul along with all the small moments you’ve been hiding there ever since you met him. 

“I’m in love with you,” he breathes finally, and you feel his grip on your waist tighten. Like he’s afraid you’ll run away from him. “I’m really fucking in love with you.”

Really, though, you’re far from running away. If anything, you wish you could stay in this moment forever — looking up at his face, lip pulled between his teeth and his chest heaving with each breath. The people around you are a part of the background, you can faintly hear some whispers of Jaehyun’s name, but almost everyone is busy celebrating their win. You’re also busy celebrating, your heart doing somersaults, your brain still trying to process what was just said.

Jung Jaehyun is in love with you. And you’re in love with him. 

“Can you please say something? I’m about to die from embarrassment here.”

“Sorry,” you giggle, looking at the way Jaehyun’s scratching his neck. “It’s just that this is the first time I’m seeing you this nervous. It’s cute.”

He puts on an utterly scandalized expression, burying his face in his hands as his ears go red. “Cute? Oh my God, now I’m going to have to switch football teams and—” 

“I’m in love with you, too, stupid,” you cut him off with a grin, pulling him closer so your chests are touching again and you have to lift your head up to look him in the eyes. “Even if your shirt is soaked with sweat.”

“You like it when I’m all sweaty, though.” Suddenly, he’s regained his confidence, making your heart beat harder when his hands cup your cheeks and he leans down to nuzzle his nose against yours. Is it awful that you feel something turn in your stomach at the sight of his bare arms this close to your face? Probably — but honestly, you don’t care. “Don’t deny it. I’ve seen how you’re looking at me during practice.”

Your breath hitches and you push him away, trying your best to ignore the warmth spreading across your body. “You’re delusional, Jung Jaehyun.”

“I’m also your boyfriend, so I’d say it’s a win,” He grins, intertwining his fingers with yours, but then his smile falls for a moment, replaced by a tentative gaze in your direction. “I am your boyfriend, right?”

“Yeah,” You smile and the gleeful expression returns to Jaehyun’s face. “Yeah, you definitely are.” 

—

Jaehyun is impatient. Always has been, and probably always will be. 

Only that until now, it hasn't been a problem. In fact, his coach always used to say that his restlessness is what makes him a great football player. That it's a blessing. 

But right now, as Jaehyun finds himself getting impatient at his football game because his mind is filled with thoughts of you, he thinks it's more like a curse. A strong one at that. Because how the fuck is he supposed to focus on kicking a football when you're sitting on the tribunes, waiting for him in the tiniest skirt he's ever seen?

Okay, so maybe it's his own fault, because you did ask him what you should wear to his game this weekend and he had picked out the skirt himself. But you had sent him a picture of it on the floor, not around your hips, and he never would’ve imagined it being this short. Besides, had he known you’d wear a low-cut top with it, he would’ve told you to wear jeans, because dealing with a boner on the field isn’t exactly ideal. He doesn’t even want to think what his teammates will say if they notice his state. 

You’re not completely innocent in this matter, though. Putting on that top that makes his eyes linger on your cleavage a second too long and shamelessly staring at him during the whole game is most definitely intentional. You’re not evil, though — it’s just that dating the hottest footballer on the school team is supposed to have its perks, right? 

And one of them should be getting to fuck him after a game, because — as much as you hate to admit it — he does look hot all sweaty. 

You sit on the bench silently, cheering when Jaehyun’s team scores a goal and blowing kisses in his direction when nobody sees. It’s kind of funny just how quickly you managed to go from being his friend to making out with him every chance you get. Now, after just a month of dating, you know everything about him and yet you want to know more. What you love most, you think, is that there’s always something more to find out.

Like whether Jaehyun will let you drag him into the locker room after the game. 

Your prediction after seeing him look in your direction countless times during the match is that he will, but, just like everything about him, it’s uncertain. But that’s just what makes it even more exciting to wrap your arms around his neck after his team has won, standing on your tippy toes to kiss him. It isn’t the first or even twentieth time you’re kissing him, but feeling his lips on yours feels just as amazing as ever. 

“Hello to you, too,” he mumbles against your lips, slipping his fingers under your shirt so he can grab your bare waist. It tickles where he touches you, like fire spreading across your skin. “You liked the game?”

“Not really, it was boring,” you tell him and he rolls his eyes with a soft smile. “I don’t even know why I come to these things.”

“Because you love me, that’s why.” 

“You’re so overconfident,” you click your tongue, unable to hide your smile as he pulls you even closer, so you’re flush against him. “But I guess seeing you in this uniform makes up for it.”

He grins at your words.

“Told you. You love coming to my games.” 

“Mhm.” You rest your head on his shoulder, looking up at him. “Don’t you think I deserve a reward for being such a good girlfriend?”

You watch as he processes your words, eyebrows raising. His lower lip trembles just in the slightest as he figures it out — in the exact same way it does before a big game or when he’s dying to kiss you. He might be sending you a careless look, but from how the tips of his ears are tinted pink, it seems he’s less unbothered by your proposition than what he’d like to be. 

“You wanna go home?”

He asks the question casually, but his fingers grip your waist tighter. 

“No,” you reply and he furrows his brows, tilting his head to the side. “It’s too far away.” 

“Too far away?”

“Mhm.”

You stand on your tiptoes to nuzzle your nose into his cheek, lips lightly brushing over his dimple. He smiles softly and you take the opportunity to press a kiss to his cheek, before moving lower. You can hear him swallow when you kiss down his jaw, head instinctively tilting a little to the side to let you continue onto his neck. He didn’t really plan on giving in this easily — teasing you is his favorite thing, after all — but your wet kisses against his skin are enough to make him cave. 

It’s only when your lips reach his collarbones and he feels himself growing hard from underneath his shorts that he remembers you’re standing in the middle of the football field, where everyone can see you. 

He inhales sharply as your lips suck on a spot just above his collarbone, hand grabbing your waist tighter. “What do you want to do then?”

“Come with me.” You don’t miss a beat, pulling away to grab his hand. 

Jaehyun’s teammates are long gone as you lead him in the direction of the sidelines — some changing in the locker rooms, others probably on their way home by now. The weight of Jaehyun’s hand in yours calms your nerves a little, because — as much as you hate to admit it — he still manages to make you nervous with his presence, especially when he’s in that goddamn uniform and his ego is over the roof. 

You drag him further along the football field, and stop by the locker rooms, pressing your ear against the door of the first one. 

“What are you doing?” 

You don’t reply to his question, just shake your head as you hear the water running from one of the showers, and move on to the next locker room. This one is completely silent when you listen for any noise and you smile in victory, pulling Jaehyun’s hand harder as you slip inside. 

“Y/N, what are you-”

You cut him off, pulling at his shirt so he leans down and allows you to kiss him, this time on the lips. He gives in immediately, hands flying to cup your cheeks and tilt your head backwards so he can slip his tongue inside your mouth with ease. You stumble a few steps back, the plan to double-check whether there’s anyone here long gone from your mind as you kiss him. 

Jaehyun’s hands fall lower, to your hips, and he pulls you closer only to rest his leg between your thighs. You shiver at this, letting out a shaky breath into his mouth. He smiles against your lips, obviously satisfied by your reaction, and slips one of his hands inside your shirt. You feel it travel upwards, creating goosebumps on your bare skin before he manages to unclasp your bra and take it off so you’re left with only your tank top, nipples showing through the thin fabric. 

It’s him that pulls away first, eyes taking in your state and a groan leaving past his lips. “Is it bad I really want to fuck you stupid right now?” 

If bad means your panties suddenly feeling uncomfortably wet, then sure, it’s bad. But mostly, you think you might die if he doesn’t touch you again.

“The only bad thing is that you’re not doing anything about it.”

You pout at him, feeling something turn pleasantly in your stomach when he pulls his lip between his teeth, jaw set. He looks so good it drives you insane — shirt sticking to his muscles, thigh on display from where it’s resting between your legs. If he just moved it up an inch or two…

“Jae…” you say, and his eyes move up to look at your pleading face. “Would you please do something?”

He raises a brow, and presses down on your hips, testing the waters. Sure enough, you let out a half-suppressed whimper when your clothed pussy just slightly touches his thigh. He smiles at that, flexing his thigh as he does it again, your nails digging into his biceps as he guides your hips along his leg. It makes your head spin when your pussy is dragged back and forth against his skin, and you practically moan out his name as you tug at his arm. 

Tilting his head to the side, he smiles. “You want it that bad?” 

“Need it, Jae, please.” 

“God, you’re so needy,” he presses his tongue against his cheek. “Alright, if you want it so bad, I guess I’d be really mean not to give it to you, right?”

You don’t need any more assurance. Quickly, you grab the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head, knuckles grazing his sweaty muscles on the way up. Your eyes take a second to admire his bare chest, and you can only imagine how widely he’s grinning from the way you’re rubbing your thighs together in order to ease the heat forming there. You’ll worry about the consequences of your own actions (Jaehyun’s relentless teasing) later, though — for now, you’re more than happy with the promise that he’ll give you what you want. 

Goosebumps form on his skin when you press a kiss against his collarbone — picking up where you left off earlier. You smile against the flesh, looking up at him as you let your teeth bite down just slightly, enjoying how his brows furrow and his fingers squeeze your breast in response. His abdominal muscles feel firm under your lips as you kiss them — slowly, because seeing him go crazy is one of your favorite things in the world. 

He bites down on his lip as your kisses move further down, tongue swiping over his abs before you reach the waistband of his pants. You can see the outline of his cock through his shorts — probably hard and leaking for you, and the thought forms a throb between your legs. Letting your fingers move downwards, you palm him through the fabric, which makes a soft groan escape past his lips.

“Stop.” You look up as Jaehyun tugs at your hair, his eyes hazy and chest heaving. Confused, you blink up at him, but he only pulls you up and against him, his cock just barely rubbing against your thigh. “Wanna feel you.”

You don’t really get to respond as he drags you further into the locker room, walking all the way to the corner of the room, where the lockers are. 

It’s unexpected when he spins you around, hands positioned on your hips as he pushes you softly so your chest comes in contact with the cool locker. You gasp quietly as the cold seeps through the thin fabric of your shirt, your first instinct to pull back, but Jaehyun holds you in place. His hand slips under your top and comes up to play with your tits to warm you up, and you sigh into his touch when he pinches your nipple lightly. 

“Okay?” he asks, his breath hitting your ear, and it takes you a second to register he actually wants you to answer. 

“O-okay,” you mumble shakily upon feeling Jaehyun’s other hand on your inner thigh, slowly inching towards the throbbing between your legs. 

His fingers pinch your thigh and you shudder, biting your lip when his knuckles brush over your clothed pussy from underneath your skirt. Your panties are completely soaked, some of your arousal probably seeping onto Jaehyun’s fingers when he rubs his fingers against you again — slowly, so softly you have to stop yourself from whimpering for him to give you more. 

He understands it even without your words, though — probably from how your hips involuntarily move back to meet his fingers — and lifts up your skirt so he can pull your panties down your legs. You help him eagerly, lifting your legs and meeting his gaze for just a moment as you take the opportunity to turn your head. He sends you that smile that makes your knees buckle before grabbing your hips again and pulling them against the bulge in his pants.

There might be a layer of clothing separating your pussy from his cock, but you still let out a mewl at the feeling of finally creating some friction. You just know Jaehyun’s wearing a grin when he pulls away from you again, only to replace his hips with his fingers that make you shiver when they come in contact with your bare cunt. He slides them back and forth through your folds, spreading your arousal across your pussy before he rubs your clit in circles, making you clench around nothing. Your head falls against the locker, a small whimper escaping past your lips. 

“Yeah?” He retracts his fingers momentarily, only to deliver a slap to your cunt — which makes your mouth part in a broken moan. “This okay, too?”

You shiver, pushing your hips back even more. “Yeah.”

His hand grips your hip tightly as he teases your entrance with his finger before slipping it inside, your walls sucking him in immediately. You moan his name, spreading your legs wider so he can start slowly moving his finger, curling it inside your cunt in a way that makes you clench around him. Your mouth falls open as he adds another finger, pumping them in and out of your hole so well your legs feel weak after only a few pushes. 

If it weren't for your hazy mind, you definitely would have felt embarrassed at the loud sounds of his fingers fucking you, but with his digits deep inside of you and his cock pressing against your ass from behind, you can't bring yourself to care. It feels so good you don’t want it to stop.

Except it does — a mere twenty seconds later, as you feel the familiar sensation of rapture start to stir up in your stomach, Jaehyun pulls his fingers away like you weren’t so close to reaching your high. 

You turn around with a pout on your face, legs slightly shaking. “Why’d you stop?”

You feel like you could cry, but Jaehyun only chuckles, leaning down to plant a kiss on your lips. You lean into his touch, whimpering into his mouth when he squeezes one of your tits. 

“Want you to cum on my cock,” he says against your lips and you shiver, feeling his hands drop to your hips, pulling you closer so his still clothed cock rests just beneath your throbbing pussy. “Okay?”

“Yes, please.”

He smiles, eyes crinkling as your hands move to pull down his shorts and boxers, mouth parting slightly when you take out his cock. You almost want to get on your knees and suck him off, but the painful throbbing between your legs tells you otherwise, so you only stroke him a couple times, kissing his jaw, before letting him turn you around again. 

His hands come up to your waist to lift your shirt over your head and throw it off somewhere. You let out a small whimper when your bare tits are pushed against the lockers, arousal pooling between your legs.

“What if somebody comes in?” you ask, admittedly more to hear his voice than to get an actual answer out of him. You're way past worrying about someone coming in by now.

Jaehyun clicks his tongue and you feel his cock press against your cunt, softly grazing your folds and coating itself in your arousal. “I guess you’ll just have to be a good girl and stay quiet so nobody does.”

Clenching around nothing at his words, your hands come up to hold the lockers so you don't fall to your knees from the simple sensation of him slapping your pussy with his dick. You try pushing your hips back to make him hurry, but he's intent on dragging his cock through your folds painfully slowly, paying no mind to the way you whimper as he comes in contact with your puffy clit. 

Thank God he's an impatient person, because his teasing doesn't last more than five seconds before he's lining up at your entrance, pushing in slowly with his hands coming up to play with your tits. You lean into his touch, moaning softly at the stretch and spreading your legs further to help him slide in. You don't really need to, though, because you're so wet he thrusts into your cunt with ease. 

“Shit, I love you so much,” He mumbles into your ear, a small groan escaping past his lips as he bottoms out, your walls tightening around him. “Love fucking this pussy. Always so wet and warm for me.”

You hold harder onto the lockers as Jaehyun starts rocking his hips into yours — slow, shallow thrusts that already have you biting your lip to muffle any sounds that threaten to spill from your mouth. Faintly, you hear the slam of a locker in one of the other rooms, and it only makes your cunt clamp down even harder on his cock. 

“You love it too, don’t you? Love having your pussy stuffed with my cock?” 

Jaehyun’s grip on your hips tightens as he pushes deeper into your cunt, your moan way too loud for it to be classified as quiet. You only nod in response to his question, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the feeling of him pulling almost entirely out before pushing his cock back in, so deep you swear you feel him in your stomach. 

He groans at how you’re sucking him in, landing a soft slap on your ass. “‘Course you do, that’s all you ever think about, right? Even when we’re in public, all you want is to get fucked dumb.”

You nod dumbly. You whimper loudly when he picks up the pace of his thrusts, your pussy tightening around his cock. It takes him less than three rolls of his hips to find that one spot that makes your toes curl, and when he does, he makes an effort to hit it repeatedly, so fast it makes your head spin. 

“Yeah? Feels good?” 

“Mhm,” you choke out. And as if you’re not shaking from pleasure already, he brings his fingers to rub circles into your clit, his arms practically holding you up. “Please don’t stop, Jaehyun, please—”

It confuses him a little — why you think he would even want to stop right now, with the way you’re clamping down on his cock, moaning his name in a way that has him struggling not to cum right then and there. His own hips stutter just as you start clenching and unclenching around him, your moan growing into broken whimper and incoherent mumbling of how good it feels and how you want him to go faster. 

And so he does, grabbing your hips harder so he can push you further onto his cock, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. His thrusts make the locker bang softly against the wall, but all you can focus on is the way his cock is pistoning in and out of your cunt, filling you up to the brim. 

“You gonna cum, baby?” he rasps into your ear as you start shaking from underneath him. “Gonna cum all over my cock?” 

You only nod frantically, mumbling something he can’t make out and then, with a last few rubs of his fingers against your clit, the knot in your lower stomach snaps. He cums not too much later, groaning against your cheek as he spills his cum inside of you. 

Jaehyun lets you come down from your high before he pulls out, smiling to himself at the whine you let out. He gets dressed and helps you put your shirt and panties on, chuckling as he sees your legs shaking when you walk over to him.

“What the hell are you laughing at?” you grumble at him, but it doesn’t really sound threatening when you’re wearing a giddy smile on your face. “It’s your fault, you know. You’re gonna have to carry me home now.”

“Sorry,” he replies, sounding the least sorry he’s ever been. “If it makes you feel any better, I just got hard again from looking at your legs.” 

You scoff at that, but let him interlace your fingers as you emerge from the locker room together. It almost surprises you how cold the air outside is compared to how hot it was inside — though you think that might’ve had something to do with other things than just the temperature. 

“So,” Jaehyun grins from ear to ear as he speaks up a few moments later. “When do I get to fuck you in the locker room again?” 

TAGLIST: @kflixnet @mrkis @ljnfav @shiningdery @qiankunslove @fluffyjaes @the-universe-in-you-jjh @honeym4rk2 @pckeia @baehaechannie @peachjamal @luv4jeno @lunarmindedchild @myjaewoo @kange3939 @bimb0beee

#nct smut #jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun smut #nct 127 smut #nct hard thoughts #jaehyun x reader

[chxrryhansen]

౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s Cevans One Shot Rec List

here you will find all of my favourite chris evans + characters fanfiction recommendations, i have many more to add and will continue to update this list. Please don’t forget to reblog these amazing writers fics as they deserve so much love!💘💘

Walk On The Wild Side - @hansensgirl

you just wanted to go for a stroll down the road—but he wants you to take a walk on the wild side. (Dark!Chris Evans)

You Better Not Pout, Better Not Cry - @hansensgirl

they know if you’ve been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake. (Dark!Multi character) - i would add every single one of her fics to this list if i could💘

Sinful Devotion - @evansbby

Lloyd promises to let you go, but he demands a depraved repayment. (In other words, Lloyd pops your cherry)- my favourite writer in the whole universe💘

Smothered With Bliss - @whereireid

Is it hard being married to the most influential man in America? You most certainly think it is. — Steve Rogers: Captain America, the heart of his nation, the soul of his country. After returning home from a particularly bad day at work, Steve finally snaps, deciding you need re-educating on how to be the perfect housewife.

The Night - @misshoneybee

Working as the Barber family's nanny is a piece of cake, but what happens when the dad you've been tip-toeing around all year comes home late one night to find you asleep in his bed, wearing his favorite sweater?

Little Miss Red - @anika-ann

Ransom’s looking for a good time tonight, when you walk through the door, he knows he’ll get it. And you? Oh you’ll get it too. He's going to make sure of it.

Unholy Errand - @buckets-and-trees

You're caught in the crosshairs when a hit goes out for your boss. (Dark!Lloyd Hansen + Dark! God The Bounty Hunter + Ransom Drysdale)

What A Shirt Can Tell - @justalonelyslytherin

5+2 times Colin asked 'Is that my shirt?' plus the one time he got asked it. Aka a look through the journey of Colin and his girl, each in which his shirts play an important role.

Start Again - @wkemeup

A chemical spill, uncontrollable desires rushed to the surface, an unbridled need, and the consequences in the aftermath (Steve Rogers)

Daddy’s Little Pet - @sinner-as-saint

You and Steve are the epitome of ‘opposites attract’. He is the American hero, a super soldier who is known for his bravery, and righteousness and for being the one leading the Avengers. You, on the other hand, are a well-known fashion designer in the city. Creator and owner of your own brand, and elite boutique. At first glance, it doesn’t seem like you and Steve would be compatible. But you surprisingly are. And behind closed doors, in secrecy – you two are each other’s solace, each other’s definition of home. He’s your strong, loving and caring man. And you, his lovely, little pet whom he adores more than life itself.

Good Girls And Skype Calls - @youre-deadangel

chris gives you a treat for behaving.

Afternoon Delight - @christowhore

you're steve's live-in housekeeper and find your boss and his friends having a bbq on a heatwave stricken afternoon. they invite you to join them and show you all the pleasurable ways to cool down from the sun. (SoftDark!Steve Rogers + Sam Wilson + Bucky Barnes)

Got You - @hispeculiartreasure

The two of you had grown close over the last year; first as teammates, then as friends. You had been distant at the start, just as he had. Slowly, agonizingly - blood, sweat, and tears were definitely involved - walls were dismantled. A current of trust ran between you, one which caught Steve by surprise. As dense as he could be about matters of the heart, suspicions of his blossoming romantic feelings being mutual had proven true with a simple kiss. (Sex Pollen, Steve Rogers)

Golden Boy - @bucksfucks

you’ve always called steve the golden boy, but he snaps one night and decides to show you he’s anything but. (Roommate!Steve Rogers)

It Must Be That Old Evil Spirit - @vonalyn

There’s something unsettling about his demeanor but you can’t quite put your finger on it. As if there’s something hiding beneath the surface just waiting to pry its way out of the tight shirt across his broad frame and tear your throat out. Maybe it’s your general unease around others when you’re traveling alone, or maybe it’s just him.  (Jack-O-Lantern!Ari Levinson)

Stupid Kitty - @onsunnyside

Your father wrongfully entrusted Lloyd to care for you—it’s too bad he’ll never get you back. (Lloyd Hansen x Cat-Hybrid!Reader)

Manners- Or Lack Of Them - @rogerswifesblog

Ransom wants you, the sweet girl at the bar…but you’re not what he expected you to be. (Sub!Ransom Drysdale + Mommy!Reader)

Shadow Boxer - @mypoisonedvine

you’re stuck in the same destructive cycle with ransom, but maybe you don’t want to get out of it. (Angst + Smut, Ransom Drysdale)

It’s Not A Challenge - @gagmebucky

His jaw ticks. “It’s not a challenge, doll,” he bites out. “It’s a warning. If I tried to get inside you, I’d split you in half in the process.” His eyes flicker down, and your nipples are pebbles against the thin, easily-rippable fabric—you’re testing him, and he’s failing. “Goddamn it,” he hisses underneath his breath. “That - that shouldn’t turn you on.” Bristling, he drops his hand and pedals backward—he’s on his last thread, and it’s his sole chance to make a clear-headed decision. (Boxer!Steve Rogers)

Pretty Princess - @frostironfudge

Andy Barber gets jealous when he presumes you shared a room with one of his associates.

Over And Over - @frostironfudge

Ari Levinson is a possessive man, he'll punish you till you apologise.

Such A Good Boy - @lilacevans

You and Ari attend a business meeting, and at the beginning the other boss you're meeting with just assumes that Ari is the one in charge; however, that's not the case. While you look dainty, angelic, like you couldn't even hurt a fly, you're the one who runs the family and will not hesitate to fuck up anyone who stands in your way. (Puppy!Ari Levinson) - one of my favourite fics EVER.💘

Breathe - @buckyownsmylife

The one where the new co-star is obsessed with the idea of making Chris hers, but he makes sure to show her you’re the only one for him.

Justified - @dbnightingale24

Ransom has always been the center of your world you’ve always been the center of his. However, when he can’t change his ways and you’re tired of the heartbreak, is it really so bad if you think it’s best to walk away? Ransom thinks so. - one of the sweetest most talented writers i have ever met💘

My, My, My - @1800jjbarnes

Stevie couldn't help it. Every time he saw you, he felt himself grow heavy in his slacks. You were everything he needed. And he needed you now.

All The Time - @geminixevans-stan

He is one of the most powerful men on earth but there’s more worse than him (Dark!Lloyd Hansen + Dark!Nick Fowler)

Snack - @katherineswritingsblog

he just wants his snack- which is you.

Watchful Eyes - @espinosaurusrexex

When your best friend gets you a new job, cleaning the apartment of the most successful man in New York City, you don't hesitate to accept. The pay is more than good, and the man himself is better than any eye candy you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to you, you've caught his attention just as much. Steve can't keep his mind off you, so much so, that he drives everyone around him insane with his grumpiness when you aren't around. It seems like he has to take matters into his own hands when he realizes, you're too shy to take things further yourself. (CEO!Steve Rogers)

Cherry On Top - @dcllbows

you’ve found your favorite way to help your daddy with his grownup work. (Ddlg, Daddy!Andy Barber)

Voracious - @arilevinsons

The first time he set eyes on you; you were his sudden infatuation. (DarkProfessor!Ari Levinson)

Best Friend’s Dad - @imyourbratzdoll

you've been pining over your best friend's dad and decide to take your chance, knowing he's out and your best friend is asleep, you be a little bit naughty and touch yourself on his bed, not knowing he's coming home early.

The Breeding Ground - @fl0werfae

To others, Ari’s house was a breeding ground for him and his omega, but to him it was just fulfilling her purpose of carrying his pups. (Alpha!Ari Levinson)

My Sweet Pea - @mavsstar

Mr. Levinson lives right next door to you, the sweet, innocent college girl. Little do you know that you're Mr. Levinson's favorite neighbor. He's there every chance you need the slightest of help, maybe a little too much. (Trailer Park Au)

Like A Movie Scene In The Sweetest Dream - @worksby-d

Johnny’s always been on your “no” list, but you've finally agreed to work with him. (Pornstar!Johnny Storm)

Easy As Pie - @navybrat817

You bake pies for Andy, but you're still his favorite treat.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfic #chxrrys fic recs #fic recs #chris evans fic recs #steve rogers fic recs #steve rogers #ransom drysdale #chris evans smut #andy barber #lloyd hansen #ari levinson #johnny storm #steve rogers smut #ari levinson smut

[cherry-leclerc]

back to you ☆ cs55

genre: fluff, oldmoney!reader, strangers to lovers

word count: 3.1k

Fixated from the moment he first saw you, Carlos stays missing someone whom he never even properly met. But that all seems to change one night when you unexpectedly show up to a business dinner.

req!... i'm such a liar lmaooo (iykyk). hope you enjoy, my lil anons :) hope this heals some of the heartbreak we all endured today !!(*bashes head against keyboard*)

It almost seemed like you had something up your sleeve, a tactic to retrieve all of his attention away from the camera shoved right in front of him - media duties.

“Hello guys, just wanted to come on here to say that I think we gave it all we could during today’s race but there is definitely always room for improvement…” Blah, blah, blah. 

He can’t quite figure out what he’s saying because his brown eyes are attached to the pretty girl walking right in front of him. Not behind him, trying to catch up. Not besides him, begging for a photo. Nope, right in front of him as if you could care less that you have one of the most popular drivers to ever exist almost chasing after you. 

He could hear you mumbling about God knows what to the girl walking besides you. The Spaniard feels like a total creep when it comes to him becoming more alert to possibly catch your name. As you were saying? The media team manager stares back expectantly once Carlos blanks out. Though it wasn’t that unusual. 

The 29 year old flickers his gaze back to the camera and then back to where you were, only except, you’re gone. Out of sight and his heart stops for a nanosecond.

“Onto the next week. Vamos.”

-

“So then, you have your upcoming shoot for the new fireproofs, testing, stimulator - if we have time, interview at…” 

Carlos tunes out as he blinks at the never ending list as if it were just another Monday. Charles nods attentively, though he also looks far too uninterested. They were exhausted.

“And dinner tonight to meet our new sponsors.”

“Another one?” Charles asks, a slight crack in voice as he tries to pretend he wasn’t at all annoyed. “We just had one last night.”

Maria musters up a stern look. “Yes, again. They’re a lovely family, so we want to impress them with two well-behaved drivers.” The Ferrari boys swallow their laughter as they nod their heads. Got it. 

It takes all of Carlos’ remaining willpower to get ready for dinner that night. On the way to the small Italian restaurant, he second guesses even showing up. He could fake a fever. A sore throat. Shaking his head, he curses as he steps out of his custom Ferrari. 

“Oh good, I thought it was just going to be me,” Charles jokes as soon as he spots the Spaniard. Carlos chuckles before greeting the team. About 10 minutes go by before the Monegasque grows impatient as a child. I could have finished watching my movie.

“Shut up,” Fred murmurs before abruptly standing up from his seat. “Ah! È così bello rivedere finalmente te e la tua famiglia!” Choking on his champagne, Charles scrunches his nose before flying up and introducing himself. Carlos bites back a smile as he follows his lead. 

And there he sees you, standing elegantly with a silk dress that looks as soft as your skin. You’re smiling sweetly at everyone, stepping in to not just shake their hands, but also go in for a small hug. Your mother and father repeat the same action, though they later focus all of their attention on Fred and Maria. 

The Monegasque kicks his teammate’s shin. Carlos winces as he shoots fiery daggers. “We hit the jackpot.”

“What?”

Charles' shoulders drop theatrically. “Are you kidding me? Are we looking at the same girl right now or are you just blind?” 

But he did see you, and he never quite forgot about you since that day. He could feel the tips of his ear burn bright red as you made your way over to him and his teammate. Charles, so nice to meet you, the green eyed boy beams before going in for a hug. You smile from ear to ear.

“Nice to meet you, too! I must admit; I’m a little starstruck right now.” Charles blushes fast as he stutters his way around such a compliment, even if he’s received thousands of the same one before. “Ah, this is Carlos.”

“Hello,” he feels himself saying. “Carlos, nice to meet you.” As soon as you look up at him, his breath hitches and fears you might feel his sweaty palms flourishing against your soft ones. And if you do, you choose to ignore it as you share a small smile, the kind you share when you see someone after 15 years. 

The kind that seems forced.

“Ditto.”

With one last glance, you excuse yourself before making your way over to where your parents and Fred chatter about upcoming plans. Carlos blinks. “Wow. No hug,” Charles points out. “That’s weird. She was basically giving them out for free.” 

“Be quiet.” 

The remainder of the night you kept to yourself, occasionally inputting your own opinion with a polite smile drawn onto your fruit punch lips. Very well mannered, Fred would approve as you would bow your head with shyness. Carlos quirked a brow of curiosity. 

He wondered what he might’ve done wrong. Had he been too forward? Cold? Often, his parents would claim he could be like that sometimes, so maybe? He wasn’t clinging onto the fact that he was the only one who didn’t receive a warm greeting from you, but he was left with questions.

“E tu, tesoro?”

“What about me?” you repeat, hair fanning along your face like a shiny curtain. Maria chuckles. How do you feel about being a part of this new chapter? You think about it for a second before settling with the safest answer. “Very proud, there’s nothing better than tying links with such a superior team.” Fred roars with genuine laughter as he pats your father’s shoulder. Smart girl.

“Why fine jewelry?”

“Pardon?” 

The inquiry was directed towards your parents - who would clearly have the answer - but his eyes were trained on you, leaving you to fend for yourself. Lips part slowly as you connect with Carlos’ intense attention. “I’m curious, that’s all. I’m delighted we have you as our sponsors, but I was just wondering what made you dive into the business? Must be hard.”

Squinting your eyes, you click your tongue. It’s in our blood, your father’s voice cuts your train of thought. It’s what we do, what we love. But his warm gaze sticks to you like hot glue. You clear your throat before returning to your wide smile. 

“I think it’s safe to say that diamonds are beautiful. They are scarily so crystal clear that for a moment one might search for a trace of color. And then they do come in other colors, so it’s really no problem,” you say, soft chuckles circling the table. “But I believe it’s also safe to say that we don’t often think about how they got here, shining around many ring fingers.” Your mother approves as she shows her mind-blowing diamond cut. 

“Miners are the answer. They work hard - get their hands dirty - because they know that while it may not be easy to find such precious things…” His eyes roam your lips before dancing back up to your orbs. “It’s very well worth it.” Taking a sip from your glass of wine, you raise a brow. “That’s why.”

-

“It doesn’t even feel that tough to wear these pieces,” Charles squeaks as he slips on a white gold bracelet around his wrist. “They’re breathtaking.”

Clapping, you squeal at his words. For a moment, Carlos thinks about punching his teammate for getting to see your good side. They’re great, thank you again. You just tip your head towards him to confirm you heard, and slide away. Carlos sighs.

“This is ridiculous. She can’t even look at me.” The Spaniard bites his cheek. “Do you think she hates me?”

“For doing what?” Charles asks, face pinched with confusion. Carlos huffs, arms flying up.

“I have no idea!”

“Well…I don’t think so, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask, right?”

“No.” He groans. “Can you picture how awkward that would be? There’s no way.”

“Suit yourself.”

-

Pouting, the brown eyed boy zigzags his way into the studio, mentally preparing himself for hours of blinding lights. “Buongiorno, Carlos!” Spotting your father with his arms wrapped around his wife, he walks over with a tired smile. How are you guys? “We’re fine, son, thank you for asking. Tell me, are you excited for this weekend?” He instantly stands up straighter.

“I am. The Tifosi are always great to be around. Gets hectic, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

“I can imagine. My wife and daughter are always amped up when it’s finally Monza’s turn.” He hums, almost as if he’s reminiscing. “Tell you, my baby would beg for us to take her to cheer on her favorite drivers. It’s kind of a full circle moment so don’t mind if my wife gets emotional.”

“Stop,” your mother sniffles as she shares a grimace. Told you, your father mouths. Carlos laughs. 

“I completely get it, it must mean a lot to all three of you. Maybe that’s what makes this partnership work all the more.” Your fathers winks, large fingers wagging over at the Spaniard. Working over time. I respect it. 

“I see why my daughter likes you.”

Carlos halts. “Sorry?”

The older man pants, seeming comedically defeated. “Are you kidding me? She adores you! You've been her favorite driver since you joined Formula 1.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Her love towards the sport had a huge impact on us to join as sponsors, but to be fair, we probably still would have done it. Like I said, it holds a special place in our hearts.”

“Buongiorno,” your soft voice echoes, skipping happily to greet the Ferrari team. Everyone’s energy quickly picks up as you flow with such easiness, skirt wrapping around your waist, making you seem like the only flower in an empty garden. Talk to you in a bit, you cheer as you make your way up to your parents. You stop dead in your tracks as soon as you spot the grumpy brunette. Like always, he can physically see you create a wall around yourself, keeping you from him. He felt like the Beast drooling over the rose inside the glass. “Good morning, Carlos. Logo looks good,” you hum, dark red pedicure pointing at your last name printed onto his fireproof. “Can’t wait to see how it looks on Charles.”

His jaw ticks. “Why don’t I call him then?”

“That would be lovely.”

He’s jealous. Of course he fucking is. He might have found out your whole act is a facade but that didn’t stop him from feeling this way. He could have been your favorite at one point, but what about now? It sure as hell didn’t seem like it.

“She wants to see you.”

The Monegasque furrows his brows. Who? But as soon as he notices his teammates' sour face, he registers the reason for his bad mood. “Stop pouting. You look like you just sucked on a lemon.” Carlos shoots a deadpan expression. “This has gone too far. It’s obviously bothering you.”

“What? You nagging?”

“Okay, ouch.” The green eyed boy takes a small step towards the Spaniard. “You don’t like it that she’s ignoring you because you like her.”

Carlos jumps off the couch. “I do not!” Charles hums. 

“Oh shit, good, then I could ask her out.” He beams. “I wouldn’t want things to get weird between us.” Carlos' heart almost jumps out of his chest as he grows nauseous at the thought of you saying yes. He continues. “I’m telling you; I have a good feeling.” The brown eyed boy clenches his jaw. “It’s like this - I could see myself marrying her, having a baby heiress-”

“Okay fine, I like her!” He pants. “She drives me so fucking crazy. Whether she looks my way or not, she makes my head spin. Ever since I saw her at the Canada GP, she’s been imprinted into my brain like a lecture I’ve been told over and over, time and time again. It makes me sick that she seems to almost get sad when she’s around me. The way she can never look at me the way I’ve always looked at her. And I’m…” He looks down at his race boots. “I’m too afraid of ruining something that I don’t even have a chance at.”

The Monegasque pats him on the shoulder, lips stretched out into a teasing smirk. “Now, was it that hard to admit your feelings?”

-

It was that hard to admit his feelings. He thought about it for the first time since he met you. Confess everything that’s been locked away deep inside of him; claim his feelings like some kind of gold medal. But then he saw you radiating pure perfection and he would turn the other way. You hated him, he’s sure.

“Alright Carlos, push, now push.” 

He could taste it - sweet victory that he badly craved. If he played his cards right then he could get second place, which was pretty good in comparison to past results. 

The Spaniard tries to not feel too upset about coming in third and waves up at the Tifosi who let out blood curdling screams. Pride rushes through his veins as he walks onto the podium, he didn’t even mind all the attention. Especially the kind you were gifting him with.

The way you smile so big that your perfect teeth shine up at him, eyes crinkling like a love letter. Cheekbones slightly pink from cheering so loud but also from the bright sun. He swore he was on some kind of drug. 

Making his way back into the motorhome after all the interviews, he bumps into you and your parents. “Like it?” he asks as he displays his trophy. 

“Definitely,” your father beams. “You deserve it, son, enjoy it.” After a few more affirmations, he and your mother walk away. Brown orbs find your own. 

“Have fun?” He tries to ease his deep voice, to appear more outgoing, to not scare you away. And yet, you nod, looking down. 

“He’s right. You totally deserve it.” And for what seems like the first time, you bless him with your warm stare. “Felicidades, Carlos.” Pink paints his cheeks. You speak Spanish? Your eyes grow wide as you feverishly shake your head. “I-I- I don’t, but I’ve picked up on a few things here and there…”

“From me.” He tilts his head. “You actually pay attention to me.” 

You can’t help stutter like a broken record. “Of course-e, I ha-ave ears.” You show them off like a weak justification. “See?” you squeak. Playing with the hem of your dress - that had him swallowing a string of moans the moment you walked into the garage that morning - you slowly started backing away. “I should go now…” You point towards the sliding doors. “See you later?”

But he knew there would be no later. Fuck, this was the most you’ve spoken to him since, well, ever. He wouldn’t let that slip away so easily. Even if his heart got bruised along the way. 

“Did I do something for you to hate me?” 

Your brows narrow like a little kid. “You think I hate you?” 

“It’s okay if you do, I suppose, but I’m just lost as to where that happened? Did I-”

“I don’t hate you,” you softly speak up, eyes shut in disbelief that you’ve made him feel that way. You blink back at him. “I promise you, you’ve done nothing wrong.” Okay, he confirms.

“Why can’t you talk to me then like you do with everybody else? Why can’t you even spare me a passing glance?”

His voice sounds desperate now, he knows it, but he was desperate. Now you were embarrassed that he continues to bring up more and more of your poor behavior - but it was never intentional. You twirl a strand of your hair before releasing it.

“You intimidate me.” 

The Spaniard squeezed his fist around the trophy. For a moment, he thought he would dent the steel. Your stomach drops at the sight and he feels guilty for proving you right. He lets out a shaky breath. 

“I’m not a bad guy, y’know? I’m sure it may seem like it, but…” He licks his lips. “I’m not.”

Doe eyes flutter like butterfly wings. “I believe you, Carlos.”

“Good. Now, would you please tell me why you always escape when I’m around?” You softly curse as you pinch your hand for a second. 

“I wasn’t lying; you do intimidate me. But not in the way you might think.” Like an angel, you make your way closer. “You’re my favorite driver, you know that?” The Spaniard’s brown eyes grow wide. You laugh. “Ever since you-”

“Joined Formula 1.”

Your jaw drops. “My father ratted me out?” Panicking, you pace the room back and forth. You could only look at him for a couple of seconds before planting your stare at anywhere else that isn’t him. “I told him not to say anything! Oh God.” You let out a maniatic chuckle. “I swear it’s just a tiny crush, it’s not even that deep - I’ll get over it!”

Now it’s his turn to geek out. “You have a crush on me?” Crap, you groan, biting down on your nail. He didn’t mention that part, did he? Brown strands of hair shake back and forth as you sigh. 

“Forget I said anything, I am so sorry for making things awkward-”

“I’ve seen you before.” What? The 29 year old winces. “At the Canada GP. You were walking with a friend.” Synthia, you whisper to yourself. “I was being filmed for feedback on the race and you were about 5 steps in front of me.” You counted? “I said about - and for months, you were all I could think about. You sort of stuck to me like a nostalgic scent. I don’t know why I felt the need to talk to you, I mean, it’s never happened to me before. I looked away for a second and you were gone.” He shares a lopsided smile. “Then I saw you again.”

“And I blocked you out.” You bite your lip. “Shit, Carlos…I had no idea you felt this way.” He shrugs.

“It’s my fault. I never told you.” Still, you try to reason but he only brushes you off. “It’s not your fault.” 

“But it is,” you whimper. “I acted like a complete snob and belittled you.” Your heart breaks at the image. “And you’re telling me it’s been mutual all along?” 

“Looks like it. This is good though.” How? The brunette winks as he pulls you in. “Because now we do know and I can take you out sometime?” You quirk a brow.

“It works just like that?” 

He hums, comfortable with the two trophies pressed up against him. “Only if you want it to be like that.” You can practically hear your crazy heartbeat with the way he’s looking down at you - as if he’s just discovered a previously nonexisting star. With soft hands pressed onto his suit, your eyes twinkle.

“Just like that, then.”

#carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz angst #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x you #scuderia ferrari #formula 1 #formula one #carlos sainz f1 #f1 smut #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #cs55 #carlos sainz blurb #carlos sainz drabble #charles leclerc #carlos sainz jr

[mirohlayo]

HATE YOU LOVINGLY | LN4 (pt1)

( you hate him just as he hates you. but maybe it's just his way to show he fell hard for you. )

warning : angst, jealousy, fluff

note : light enemies to lovers because it's literally my favorite trope 🤭 also this first part is like the whole context, next part will be more interesting

word count : 3.7k

↳ part 2

!! english is not my first language !!

lando doesn't really know when he first started to hate you. he thinks it just happened like that, all of a sudden. the truth is that when he first laid eyes on you, he never intended to detest you. this can be seen as a complicated relationship. and actually it is.

he hates you as much as you hate him. he can't stand seeing you. he can't stand being near you. because he knows how much he get annoyed by just being in the same room as you. he knows how hard it is to not yell and curse at you. he hates you badly. but maybe it is just a way to bury his true feelings regarding you ?

being oscar's best friend is one your biggest proud. not in the way of you being a total jerk and prove to everyone your best friend is a famous f1 driver and take advantage of it for you and self seeking. but in the way of you being able to have such an amazing and fulfilling friend, whom you support everyday for his achievements in f1.

your relationship with oscar is like siblings. you have the same age as him but definitely the same vibe and energy. you support him as well as he supports you. you bring each other up and always look out for both of you. it's genuinely a healthy relationship, no toxic behaviors and no toxic feelings.

you know each other for a long time now, since kindergarten. your parents are good friends and you had spent your childhood mostly with him, stuck to his side. you two went through different friends groups but always ended up together at the end. you basically grew up with oscar, like real siblings. until your paths force you to part ways.

his goal to be an f1 driver tear oscar from you. fate is sometimes painful. he started from an early age karting so you two had barely time to see each other. but yet you remained close. you always tried to attend his kart racing, always cheering him up. you were definitely his number one fan and he was so thankful towards you. when he became a f2 and f3 driver you still tried to attend the races but studies called you back.

you decided to pursue your studies to achieve your dream and especially your dream career : being a f1 presenter. seeing oscar drives and feeling the atmosphere of the sport of formula filled you with wonder and then it becomes an evidence. you were made for this job. so you put all your efforts and all your sleepless nights into your classes, into your essays. and the work finally paid off.

you're finally going to be a f1 presenter for this new season.

no need to say how much you are happy, finally graduated from university. and plus you will be able to get the job you so desperately wanted. first thing is to tell oscar the good news. you know how proud and happy he'll be, you always bothered him about this degree during the rare f1 races you could attend, university took up a lot of your time and you could very rarely come and support your best friend.

but he is understanding and he's by far the most supportive person, he always says you'll achieve your dream. and now that it became true, you didn't wait a second to tell him you got the job of your dream. so you decided to attend the suzuka race.

-

the drivers parade just ended and oscar is making his way back to the garage, where you are waiting for him. you stand here, scrolling through your phone while peeking out to make sure you don't miss him. your hear footsteps getting closer to the garage and a voice you recognize well. you lift your head up and your look fall on oscar's teammate. you glance at him, already feeling a little bit annoyed by just seeing his face. you try to ignore him and go back to your phone.

lando knows you're here. he also knows you glared at him too. well he spotted you as soon as you had entered the garage. and also him can already feel a sour sensation, he's fed up with you.

he first laid eyes on you some months ago, actually during the second race of the year. he had never seen you before because of course you're oscar's best friend and you had no one to support in f1 in previous years. but oscar being lando's new teammate, you obviously had to show up for him.

he'd be lying if he said he didn't find you unsettling. well to make it clear he found you extremely attractive. you were the most beautiful woman he has ever seen in his whole life, and who knows how much he had met lots of pretty girls. but they didn't even rival you and your beauty a little. no, he knew you were different from them.

first he was just watching you from afar, stealing glances at you whenever you would show up around the paddock. you were mostly talking and laughing with oscar, so he often caught you smiling and he found that adorable. you intrigued him a lot. never ever he wanted so bad to talk to a girl before. but he didn't, he just gazed at you.

and it seemed like you were constantly with oscar. always. always with him. so he had never gotten a chance to talk to you. but soon this curiosity turned into something else. something bad.

he suddenly started to hate you. him either doesn't really know it started or what are truly the reasons. he's just sure you became the most annoying person ever to be. it all started when he noticed you never congratulated him for his performances or podiums. but always oscar.

when oscar would ends up on the podium, or do a great job in qualifying, you were always there to support him and jump into his arms, hugging him so close. you would always tell him how proud you are, how amazing he did and that he's pure talent. and the mclaren members would definitely agree with you. but when it comes to lando, there's no reaction from you.

you never tell him congrats or that he did a good job, never. you never show him a hint of support. first he didn't really care, though seeing you only be proud of oscar and not also him while he did the same good job as his teammate if not better, it was kind of disrespectful to him. but he also knew that he didn't talk to you, you didn't know him and you are not close, of course you won't congratulate lando the same as you do with oscar.

but still, the driver thought just showing some respect and support for him and not just only for oscar could be appropriate and appreciated. the rest of the team always cheered up for lando, and surprisingly even the loved ones of oscar would congratulate him. except you. you were the only one amongst oscar's friends who don't seem to care about the other driver.

and lando hates that. fucking hate that. he is also a driver of the team, he's also doing a great job, so why would oscar be the only one to receive your support ? he doesn't understand, even if you two are not close it's important to not neglect him and to actually care as much for him as for your best friend. it looks like you ignore him. oscar is not the only mclaren driver to win and earn points. lando exists too.

he hates the fact that you act like he doesn't exist.

but from your point of view, it's completely different. of course you care about lando. you won't lie, maybe you care about him more than you care about your best friend. how much you want to show him all your respect and support, how much you also want to hug him after his every podiums. but you don't, because you're just scared. you are being a coward.

it's so stupid. yet you can't fix it. you're also so bad attracted to lando. like he's consuming your every thoughts since you first caught a glimpse of him at jeddah race. his presence, his way to be, his sassy personality, his smooth driving style. you're captivated by him just as he is with you. you so want to talk to him, to finally have the guts to say some words to him.

but you think it'll be weird. and that he'll think you're a crazy fangirl or whatever. because if you suddenly start to hug him overnight to show him how amazing he did then he'll be uncomfortable. that's what you think. when all he wanted was you to actually do it. wrap your arms around him and he's already all yours.

you can't help it, you don't want to make you a fool out of yourself, you don't want to push out things. you're too scared because after all he's the teammate of your best friend, you are nothing for him. you can't be something for him. he must have others priorities, others people and girls he care about. you can't behave like he's one of your closest friend and expect him to act positively with you.

and that's why you're clumsy around him. plus with your shyness it's difficult to not look like ridiculous in front of him.

lando can't barely stand the fact you only see oscar in the team, so when you started acting clumsy around him it was the last straw. he started seeing red, oh how annoyed he was.

once you were walking in the paddock to join lily, the girlfriend of oscar. she was in the garage so you just walked towards her. but as your turned on a corner you accidentally bumped into lando. you lifted up your head, and your crossed his eyes. he didn't look bothered, though his look was somehow intense staring at you like that.

embarrassment took over you and you quickly murmured a soft "sorry" barely audible. which lando didn't hear of course. you were too shy and embarrassed to speak louder, and you run away without giving him a look. he watched you disappear, and the indescribable feeling that he felt at that moment really hurt him.

so you're like that ? you're that disrespectful towards him ? first not a hint of congratulation and then being rude ? are you serious now ? he scoffed and rolled his eyes. such bad behaviors.

or that one time when you called him stupid because he blocked oscar's car and you didn't expect him to hear you. but he did. he was about to confront you and was ready to argue with you but he calmly walked away. it was a bad idea. but he really felt disgusted and kind of disappointed. you really had the guts to call him like that when you can't even manage to greet him ?

you can't even look him in the eyes, and every times he's talking it seems like you don't listen to him, sometimes interrupting him. when you would ignore him the whole race. and all of that. all of that stuff was making him go insane.

he's so fucking fed up. like he's so annoyed to the point he hopes you won't show up to the races, even though you're already rarely present. but when you're not here around the paddock he knows it'll be a good week end. no need to worry. because he knows he won't see your face, he knows he won't have to handle you.

he hates you to the point he hopes you'll stop being friend with oscar. but does he really want this because he doesn't want to see you anymore, or it is something else ?

is it the fact he doesn't hate you, but maybe hate seeing you giving all your attention to oscar ?

is it the fact he doesn't hate you, but hate the way you ignore him, act like he doesn't exists when all he wants is to be the only one you would look at ?

no. no it's not that. lando knows it. it can't be that. he hates you, your person. but why was he feeling strange then ? maybe because you are also always showing him that either you don't like him. that you desperately can't stand him.

he's acting the same way as you. he acts clumsy. and he ignores you. once you tried to approach him but he barely did look at you and walked away, and leave you alone like a poor child. or sometimes you would offer your help to the race team, but he's always the only one to refuse it and to reject it like you're doing everything wrong. you just don't understand at all.

you can remember, the first time he had addressed you your first words. but it is not a good memory. you were in the garage, near the cars of the drivers. they looked so pretty. the liveries were perfect. and you couldn't help but brushed softly lando's car, tracing the littles details on the halo. but you didn't expect him to caught you. he glared at you with frowning brows. "don't touch my car. oscar's one is enough for you" he said coldly to you.

yeah, you really started to hate him since this day. he's so disrespectful with you and he's not afraid to show it. but a part of you is still attracted to him, and despite the fact you can't stand him, you know that you're slowly falling for him. that your heart is succumbing itself to love. to his love.

it's so weird. you hate him just as you love him. and it's so strange because he hates you just as he loves you.

you sigh and shake your head, you were dazzling again. "y/n !!" oscar's voice makes you lift your head and you smile, your best friend is mirroring you. he walks towards you and wraps his arms around your shoulders. "you didn't tell me you'll be here !" he says and smile wider, so happy to see his childhood best friend.

you giggle and pull back, resting your arms on his forearm. "surprise oscar" you reply. he gives you an other smile before joining lando. they need to talk about strategies for the race later, and you hesitate to follow him. you don't want to be near lando, you hate him and oscar knows it. you always confess about whatever is disturbing you to him and so this topic has not escaped.

but oscar gives you a reassuring smile, and you know by his look that he doesn't mind if you follow him. actually he want you to stay a bit more with him before the race. because he missed you during these past few weeks.

"i know you don't like lando but it's okay, just don't talk to him" he says and approaches the group of lando, andrea, zak and two others strategists. "like i already do it" you scoff. he sigh "not false. but you get what i meant. just ignore him like usual".

you sigh and now you're standing right in front of the man you despise. he's leaning on the counter behind him, nonchalantly listening to the strategist. you try to keep yourself concentrated, but you notice it. you notice how lando is stealing glances at you. more like glaring at you but still he often turns his head to look at you. and he does it on purpose, he keeps gazing at you intensely. which disturbs you frankly speaking.

but it's enough. you don't even listen to the guys at this point. you shift and gather your courage to plant your look in his eyes. he realizes what just happened and you can tell he's disturbed, a hint of surprise hidden behind those blue eyes. but he holds your look, and you too. it seems like the world and the time stops. like they are only you in the garage.

the atmosphere is suffocating, yet strangely tense. it feels like the whole air is burning, but your bodies are filled with desire. as if a link brings you closer. you can feel your heart beats miles away, and lando sure he's not better. his gaze shift to your lips for a second, but he pulls himself together before you can notice it. but just, just one kiss.

he asks just for one. one kiss is enough right ? he just wants to see what it feels like to move his lips on yours. maybe it'll be sweet and soft. it means nothing right ? he can kiss you and yet act like he doesn't like you. he can, a kiss means nothing to him and you right ?

he inhales deeply, feeling his muscles and whole body get tighter. it's bad. really bad. how much effect you have on him just by a simple look. it's not fair. he can't loose all his senses, he can't loose his mind because of your presence. no he can't, because he's sure he despises you. he can't fall in love with you. no this is no longer what he wants. before maybe.

he's just afraid of the reality. he's scared and he denies it. but one day he'll have to accept it. he's falling in love with you. and falling very very hard.

-

the race was absolutely amazing. p2 for lando and p3 for oscar. mclaren couldn't have dreamed better. the drivers spray the champagne on the podium, and you stand here, watching them proudly. they did a great job today and you can't hide your joy just like the others members.

then you all go back to the garage, and oscar is welcome by you and your open arms. he literally throws himself into your embrace, and you smile wider while rubbing his back. oh god, you're so proud of him. "you're amazing oscar. you don't realize how proud i am of you. so so proud. you deserve this podium"

"thank you y/n. i love you, you know" he softly says, enjoying your hug. "me too oscar" and he pulls you closer. you can hear all the cheers from the garage, everyone is so happy about the results.

but lando is... different. he watches as all of the race team congrats him, and some of his closest friends hug him. obviously he hugs them back, thanks them for their precious support. but when he pulls back and catch you hug his teammate, he started to feel... jealous.

yes, jealousy.

thinking about that is funny, because for real why would he be so jealous of his mate for some girl he's hating on ? it's ridiculous, but yet he's glaring at oscar despite himself. oscar is the only one always congratulated by you, and lando is simply falling behind. but he can't help it, he's asking for it. asking for one hug.

just one quick hug. it's nothing right ? he wonders what it would be like to feel your arms around him, to melt into your embrace. maybe it'll be comforting. but it means nothing right ? a hug and a kiss are nothing, he's just curious that's all.

but it is enough to ask ?

lando sighs and shakes his head. what is wrong with him ? he's getting insane because of the one person he's supposed to hate, but it seems like his true feelings can not be hidden anymore. is he going to admit it ? will he finally face the reality and says that he's falling for you more and more everyday ?

meanwhile, you are still at oscar's side, waiting to tell him your good news. you let him finishes his duties and wait for him in his driver room. he opens the door and smiles at the sight of you. "my best friend is here for the best podium. couldn't have asked for more" he gives you a sweet look. "true you couldn't have asked for more because i want you to know that i'll be a f1 presenter for the next season". you ramble and grin.

he stops what he was doing. his brain really stopped to function correctly. did he hear well ? he shift to look at you, and the surprise in his eyes make you laugh. he looks so surprised but also happy, like he's smiling so hard right now. "what... for real ? you're graduated ?" he asks still not realizing.

you quickly nod your head and smile widely. "i'm going to get the job of my dream. so see you next year on the track!" you say and he runs to hug you. this is literally the best day of his life. double podium for mclaren and then his best friend lands her dream job. everything is genuinely perfect. his heart hurts from joy.

he quits his driver room to tell the new to lando. because he's too overwhelmed by the happiness, he needs to share it. oscar knows how lando hates you too. he knows how you too can't handle each other. but it's stronger than him, lando must know about the news.

he finds his teammate nearby, and he doesn't wait a second to run towards him. "lando !! know what !" he starts thrilled. the curly haired frowns a bit. "what ?" he asks. "y/n will be a f1 presenter for the next season, she just have been graduated !! mate i think i'm dreaming, pinch me please." he rambles and stretch his arm.

lando stops working. what ? no he's dreaming too. "i think you should pinch me too because i feel like i'm in a dream which i'll never wake up from" he says, his eyes darting out. what the fuck is happening ?

so handling you during the races was not enough, now he'll have to see you every weekend for a whole year.

it scares him. because he knows how much impact it'll have on his feelings. it's going to be difficult. so hard. he can't barely stop himself from thinking about you all day so being in your presence every week end will be another level.

but strangely, he can't wait. he can't wait for this next season, maybe because he'll finally be able to see you more than this year....

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader #ln4 x you #lando norris fluff #ln4 fic

[woso-dreamzzz]

Ma'am

Aitana Bonmatí x Royal!Reader

Summary: You steal your father's plane

You adjusted your sunglasses so they covered your face properly as you stepped off the plane.

Taking the private plane without permission wasn't one of your worst deeds but, with one of your brother's absolutely slammed by the public, it wasn't like you could become the least favourite child for something as small as this.

"Ma'am," One of your security detail said," Might I just say-"

"If this is a complaint about anything other than the heat, I don't want to hear it."

He chuckled. "I was going to say, ma'am, that we should hurry along to get out of this heat."

You laughed. "Good idea."

You slipped into the car, instantly kicking off your shoes and rummaging through the side compartment for a snack.

"ETA is thirty-five minutes. We've already called ahead so it should be smooth sailing from here."

"Thank god." You stretched out on the seats and stared out the window. "Did you hear back from my brother?"

"Yes, ma'am, His Royal Highness wishes you a good trip and has already informed your father that you're out on business as a favour to him."

You scoffed. "A favour for William, as if."

"Best not to shoot a gift horse in the mouth, ma'am."

You rolled your eyes, shooting off a text to Kate. "He's only doing it because he knows I'm seeing Harry soon. Honestly, the rivalry between those two is horrendous."

"I don't think I can comment on that."

You ignored him. "I mean, this tug of war is so stupid. I don't need to be bribed to know which one I prefer over them. Which is, just for the record, neither. Urgh. Men suck...No offence."

"No taken, ma'am."

You waved a hand dismissively. "You know what I mean. I think they're both trying to get me to babysit for them."

"I don't really think that they need you to babysit for them."

"It's the thought that counts." You sighed and sat up straight, shooting off another lazy text to Kate to make sure that William didn't narc on you.

The streets of Barcelona sped past you and soon you were exiting the car.

The training grounds didn't look that impressive although you were neither a football expert nor an architect so your opinion on that matter probably couldn't be trusted.

A man was stood outside, waiting for you.

"Her Royal Highness, Princess y/n of England. Ma'am, this is Joan Laporta, the president of Barcelona FC."

He dipped his head. "Your Highness, it is a pleasure to have you here."

"Pleasure to be here," You replied, shaking his hand.

He led you through the hallways, explaining everything to you even though you were half listening. You peeked in to see the men in their gym session but quickly left for the pitches to watch the women.

"As you can see, ma'am," Joan continued on," We pride ourselves on excellence here. We strive every day to be the best."

"Your women's team certainly live up to that," You replied, staring out across the pitch to the group of women running drills.

"Yes. We're very proud."

He seemed to realise that you had no interest in speaking to him anymore as he led you across the pitch to the group.

Your bodyguard cleared his throat again to announce you. "Her Royal Highness, Princess y/n of England."

You smiled in greeting, striding through the group (who parted quickly) to whom you had travelled to see. You cupped the back of her neck and drew her in for a soft kiss.

"Hola."

"Hola, amor."

Aitana drew back with a smile. "I thought you said that you were busy."

You shrugged. "I cleared my schedule. Stole Dad's plane."

"Can you do that?"

"What are they gonna do? Arrest me?"

She laughed, rolling her eyes as a hand came to rest on your hip. She leaned closer. "You kissed me in front of my teammates."

"I'm pretty sure they knew you had a girlfriend."

"Si, but not who my girlfriend was."

"We're hard launching." You shrugged again and gave her a blinding smile.

You turned that smile to her teammates, still beaming.

Many of them were in a state of shock, mouths hanging open comically. You didn't recognise any of them apart from the two English players.

You were there that day at Wembley to hand them their medals with William for the Euros and you were also there the day Lucy Bronze received her MBE.

You smiled politely at both, soaking in the warmth of Aitana's hand on your waist.

"Ma'am," Your bodyguard said, suppressing his own laughter," Perhaps we should go inside. We've been travelling all day."

"Right, yes."

You threaded your fingers through Aitana's and dragged her away, leaving the rest of the Barcelona team to scramble after you both.

Aitana lagged slightly, letting you take the lead and you could hear her whispering quietly to Keira Walsh.

"You're dating Princess y/n?" Walsh said in a hush," This isn't something that you can just spring on us."

You could picture Aitana turning red. "It just happened. We met at the semi-final game against Chelsea and hit it off."

"With a princess. Aitana, how did you manage to 'hit it off' with a member of the royal family?"

"She's quite charming." You winked. "And I was quite happy to be charmed."

Aitana's blush deepened. "I fell into her. It was very embarrassing."

"To you," You teased," I found it hilarious. Oh, what was it I said?"

Your bodyguard spoke up, his voice incredibly deadpan and dry," You said that you'd never had a girl as pretty as Miss Bonmatí fall for you like that, Ma'am."

"Oh, yes. That's what I said. Then I asked her on a date."

"And then I told you that your father wouldn't be happy if you snuck around instead of coming straight home, Ma'am."

"Which of course, I took offence to because I'm an adult and not a stupid child. So I took Aitana out and never quite let her go."

"I thought you were meant to be in London for some fancy dinner," Aitana cut in before her teammates could badger you with more questions.

"The guests cancelled, some kind of medical emergency. I nicked Dad's plane. Good surprise?"

She grinned at you, somehow shuffling closer. "Si, very good surprise."

"Great, then we're gonna get you home to pack. I've got Kate and Will covering for me and free reign of the jet. I'm thinking a few days in Greece? Or maybe Italy? We'll decide on the way."

#woso x reader #aitana bonmati x reader #aitana bonmati #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

[its-time-to-write]

OOOO what about Jamie having a huge crush on the reader so much so it’s effecting how he thinks like how he was in the show where he played against Man City. So Roy and Keeley follow him (like in the show) and see him spying/ watching (he’d never admit it) the reader whos working either as a waitress or a bookshop owner because he’s too nervous to go in. Or maybe even secret girlfriend where they follow him and accidentally meet the reader whos been in a secret relationship with Jamie. Lol I hope you can understand what I was trying to say 😅

Pretty sure I picked up what you put down! Here ya go!

don’t go wasting your emotion

Jamie Tartt is not acting like himself. 

The first person to notice is Roy, because it shows in his training. He seems… distracted. So he mentions it to Keeley, and asks her to keep an eye out. They have some big games coming up, and Richmond cannot afford a distracted Jamie. Keeley promises she’ll check up on him soon, but Jamie just keeps getting weirder.

He jumps and hides his phone when Dani plops down next to him on the locker room bench, passes the ball to the opposing side during practice, and keeps going offside. It isn’t long before the other coaches notice, as well as his teammates. The only one who doesn’t seem particularly worried is Sam. When Isaac asks him if he’s noticed anything off about Jamie, Sam just shrugs and says, “It’s probably nothing. I’m sure he’ll get over it soon.”

AFC Richmond does not have time to wait. They need Jamie to get his head out of the clouds and back firmly on earth. 

Shortly after Isaac’s talk with Sam, Colin catches Sam and Jamie whispering in the weight room. He catches snippets of words like, “can’t know,” “just do it,” and… “bookstore”? Surely he didn’t hear that right. Colin shrugs and heads to go see Trent. He’s an investigative journalist. He’s got to have some insight.

Colin presents this information to Trent, Ted, Beard, and Roy, none of whom have any real ideas. As they try to come up with plausible scenarios, Trent leans agains the door with his mug in quiet thought.

“You’ve been mighty quiet over there, Mr. Independent. What’re your thoughts?” Ted asks. 

“I’m not sure,” Trent replies. “We simply don’t have enough facts to come to a conclusion. What we need is someone to follow Jamie after work and see if that will provide any insights.”

“I’ll do it.”

The room turns to look at Roy. He looks uncomfortable. “Keeley and I have been meaning to talk to him anyway, and if he fucking catches any of you lot following him, he’ll never fucking trust you again. I’m your best choice.”

Beard looks at Ted, and they nod. 

Ted says, “Alright Roylock Holmes. You and Dr. Jones have fun tonight. Let us know what you find out,” and that’s that. 

—

Roy calls Keeley and tells her the situation, and it’s not hard to find a pretense for her to be with the team. It’s movie night, and she’s there more often than not. They have pretty much unanimously decided on Paddington, mostly to heal Dani’s trauma from hearing the Paddington Twitter account gave Richmond no marmalade sandwiches. That’s what they say, at least, but if they are crying within the first fifteen minutes, that’s not for anyone to say. 

Jamie sits in the back and he keeps looking at his phone. Sam pokes him and Richard catches something that sounds like, “Go- can’t expect- if you didn’t ask,” at which Jamie nods, looks around, and then slips out the door.

“Where’s he going?” Isaac asks Sam, who shrugs and says, “I would assume to use the restroom.”

Isaac turns back to the screen, but Roy and Keeley look at each other, nod, and quickly get up to follow Jamie. 

They trail him out the building and down the street, watching as he puts his hood up in an effort not to be noticed. They follow him for half a mile as Jamie makes a very purposeful trek through Richmond, unaware that he’s being followed.

Keeley and Roy turn a corner then stop, because Jamie has stopped. He’s just out of sight of some big glass windows. He checks the time, gives himself a shake, then removes his hood and pulls the door open. Keeley and Roy share a look and rush to the window.

It’s a bookstore. The sign on the door says they close an hour from now, at 9pm. Jamie is inside leaning on the checkout counter, talking and laughing with you, the cashier.

“Started that book you told me about,” he says. “You’re right. I hate it.”

“Right??” you reply. “Isn’t it awful? It makes no sense at all, and reading it makes you feel like you’re on drugs, and it’s supposed to be a classic! Thank god you only got it at the library and didn’t have to waste money on it.”

Jamie laughs. “Got any real recommendations this time? Trying to become more cultured.” 

You laugh too. “You know, you’re a lot more cultured than you think. You’ve understood most of my references, and you have an impressive vocabulary. You have a wonderful grasp on the difference between intellectual and conversational tone.”

Roy and Keeley can’t tell what you’re saying, but they’re thinking the same thing. Is Jamie blushing?

Before they can ponder this, you come out from behind the counter to lead Jamie to a shelf. You both look straight at Roy and Keeley, who duck. You turn to Jamie, humor on your face. “Friends of yours?” you quip.

“Un-fucking-fortunately,” he responds. “Oi!”

Roy and Keeley slowly pop back up and Jamie exasperatedly beckons them inside.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Roy, stoic as ever, just grunts. Keeley says, “We were worried about you! You were acting all weird and botching things at practice. We thought you were dying!”

Roy rolls his eyes. You’re doing your best to maintain a straight face. 

You know exactly who these people are. You know Keeley Jones because who doesn’t know about Keeley Jones? You know Roy Kent because he came up as a suggested search after you googled Jamie.

Jamie has been coming into your bookshop for a while now. At first it was to look for some book about forgiveness, but after you helped him pick that out he just… kept coming back. He’d lean against the counter, supported by his elbows, and stay from 8pm until closing. Usually, he was the only customer you’d get that time of night.

It wasn’t lost on you that he was a) gorgeous and b) definitely flirting with you. He wasn’t the first customer to fancy himself in love with you, but he was the first that you actually liked back. And the first who really read what you said you liked.

You just didn’t get why he hadn’t made a move yet, especially after looking him up. It didn’t make sense. You considered making the first move, but that freaked you out too much. Still, despite his inaction on that front, he kept coming back and talking to you. Sometimes he’d bring you coffee. He’d always help you close the store. You once joked that you should put him on the payroll, to which he looked at you, and deadpanned, “You couldn’t afford me.”

You’re pretty sure that’s the moment you actually fell for him. You’re a sucker for a good, stupid sense of humor.

“Why would you think I were dyin?” Jamie asks. 

Keeley shrugs and Roy answers, “Because you’ve been playing like shit.”

Jamie glares at Roy. “I have not, you dusty old twat. You take that back.”

Keeley clears her throat. “Well, actually babes, you kind of have. It’s been this whole thing. Everybody’s worried about you!”

Jamie pinches the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ. Why the fuck are you all in my business? Did Sam put you up to this?”

“Why the fuck would Sam put us up to this?” Roy asks.

“Because Sam caught Jamie looking at my Instagram,” you interject.

Three sets of eyes turn to you. “What?” you shrug. “Sam looked up my handle and messaged me about it. We’re friends now.”

Jamie shakes his head in disbelief and Roy says, “So Sam fucking knew about this?”

The tips of Jamie’s ears turn red as he says, “Uh, yeah, so Sam’s been telling me I need to ask her out for like fuckin ages now. Always on me about how it’s dumb to keep checking my phone for her texts, especially because I haven’t even asked for her number or some shit.”

You swear that is the dumbest, cutest thing you’ve ever heard. 

“You want my number?” your voice comes out an octave higher than you’d like it to.

Jamie turns to you. “Uh, yeah, yeah I do. Been meanin’ to ask you, but I dunno, I keep telling myself you’re just being nice to me ‘cause of your job. Didn’t want to be fuckin weird.”

You smile. “Jamie Tartt, for someone so intelligent you really are dumb sometimes.”

He looks pleased with the compliment, then offended, then he realizes what you’re saying. His face goes through those expressions in a moment and then your hand is on the back of his head, pulling him down for a kiss.

Keeley looks on with a smile and Roy stares at the ceiling uncomfortable.

You break apart and Roy says, “Oi, Tartt!”

You and Jamie turn to look at him, arms still around each other.

“This better mean you’re done fucking up practice.”

“Yes coach,” Jamie mock-salutes.

Roy gives him a singular nod, and with that, he and Keeley head out the door. Keeley gives you a little wave and a thumbs up to Jamie.

“Now, where were we?” Jamie asks. “Oh, right…”

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt #ted lasso

[annawritesblog]

When I first saw you (o.p.)

Summary: Oscar falls for y/n instantly.

A/N: enjoyed writing this a lot. just some pure fluff for my Oscar girlies out there. also we need more Oscar imagines. please remember that english is not my first language, so excuse me if something's not correct. enjoy

Oscar knew. He knew the first time he saw her. The way her navy blue dress hugged her body, the way she laughed, the way her hair fall into her face. He just knew he had to get her.

He didn’t know who she was or why she was there then. He did know that he had been mesmerized by her beauty.

She just wanted to leave. She wasn’t a very sociable person. She had her close friend group whom with she very much liked spending time with. And although she did have her best friend by her, it was just awkward for her. She didn’t know anyone there, except Lily and her boyfriend. But the pair of them had disappeared minutes ago to have a chat with Alex’s boss. Time didn’t seem to pass and y/n grew anxious. She was standing all alone with a glass of champagne in her hand.

She didn’t know why she came. Maybe because her best friend had convinced her that it would be fun ‘hanging out’ with f1 drivers, at a formal dinner party. Tho she liked f1 and being in the same room as most drivers filled her with joy, the being alone thing didn’t. Neither did the fact that she felt like an outsider.

On the other end of the room, Oscar stood with a glass of champagne in his hand. He had spent the entire evening looking at the heaven brought angel. He wanted to go up to her several times, but never actually worked up the courage. So he just stayed with the staring. Which might have resulted in some confused looks. Mainly from his teammate. After a while, Lando decided that it was enough.

“Come on now Osc. Go up to her.” The Brit looked at the brunette standing next to him.

“And what do I do? Just stand next to her?” Oscar pointed out, although he knew his point didn’t make any sense. He didn’t make any sense.

“Oh, I don’t know let me think. Maybe talk to her?” Lando joked and Oscar just rolled his eyes. If it would be that easy, he wouldn’t think twice.

“I can’t. She would think I’m an idiot.” The young driver sighed and sipped his champagne.

“Go up to her and ask her if she’s enjoying the party.” Lando suggested, hoping that his friend would finally make the step. “Look, she’s alone. She’s been for a while. I’m sure she would even enjoy your company.” He laughed and Oscar wanted to disappear.

He was right tho. She was standing alone for some time. There’s nothing wrong in accompanying someone who’s standing all alone. And who knows, maybe Lando’s right. Maybe she would enjoy his company. More or less.

“Okay fine. I’ll go talk to her.” Oscar tightened his tie and inhaled nervously. He was going to finally do it.

“That’s the spirit.” The McLaren driver exclaimed. “Just keep it light, crack a few jokes. You have pretty funny ones.”

“Thanks.” Oscar said and left Lando on his own.

She wasn’t that far away actually. But the whole way there, he had ran things through his mind. Keep it light. The words from his teammate kept repeating in his head. It shouldn’t be that hard. Right?

She was ready to leave. Ready to go home and make a hot chocolate while listening to real music. Not this jazz that was making her head hurt. She would come up with some shitty excuse for Lily, something like a headache. She grabbed her clutch from the fancy table and started heading towards the exit. That was until she heard someone behind her.

“Did you drop this?” The brunette boy asked her. She looked confused, annoyed even. It was a penny in his hand. She did not drop that for sure.

He knew this excuse was terrible. It was everything but keeping it simple. And he felt like a fool. Did you drop this? Seriously? God he was so mad at himself.

Daniel joined Lando at the other end of the room. Lando had his eyes glued to the scene. He was cheering for Oscar when he had started going towards her. Then, not so much. He examined the actions of his teammate with wide eyes. What was he doing? He’s messing it up big time.

“What are we watching?” The Alphatauri driver asked.

“Oscar flirting.” Lando simply answered and tried to figure out his plan. Daniel shrugged his shoulder and decided to roll with it and catch up with the plot. He soon realized what was happening. And God, was he surprised.

Everybody knew Oscar as a professional and serious driver. Always had his eyes on the prize and nothing could get him out of his concentration. Although he was a rookie, he walked with confidence and broke down any wall that had blocked him in his career. But now, he looked like was completely changed: nervously scratching the back of his head as he was explaining something to the girl in front of him, probably mumbling and so on.

Near the exit, y/n stood with the racing driver. The Australian still waited for her answer although he knew she in fact didn’t drop it. She couldn’t have, because he was the one who took the penny out of his pocket and acted like someone dropped it. Just so he could have an excuse to talk to her. God, was he just an idiot.

“I didn’t, no.” Y/n said and smiled lightly. She found him attractive. Not like intimidating, more like he was comforting. He stood tall infront of her and she could smell his cologne. It was pleasant.

“Alright then, sorry.” Oscar looked at her and boy he was falling. Now having heard her voice, he was hooked. He never thought that love at first sight could happen to him, but here he was. Making a fool of himself.

“Maybe you should keep it. It gives you luck apparently.” She explained to the driver.

“Well I guess it already did. Otherwise I wouldn’t be talking to you.” He said without thinking. The girl blushed and smiled which made the butterflies in Oscar’s stomach erupt. Maybe he wasn’t that bad at flirting after all. “I’m Oscar.” He offered his hand.

“Y/n.” She shook his hand. Their hands fit perfectly. Perfect for them at least. The way her small hand stood in his big one. It was comfortable. And both of them could feel it. They eventually let go.

“That’s a very pretty name.” Oscar said and he was well aware of how blushed his cheeks were. So were hers. “So, are you enjoying the party?”

“I-it’s okay.” She chose her words carefully. She didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.

“Very convincing.” He laughed and y/n felt her knees go weaker at the sound of that. She wouldn’t mind hearing that more.

“I just don’t really know anyone here.” She confessed and felt a bit small. He must think she’s some kinda antisocial person. Which she was, to an extent.

“Well, now you know me.” The brunette smiled. “It’s not the best dinner party, but also not the worst. The music tho, horrible.”

“Right? It makes me want to sleep almost.” The two of them laughed and y/n felt comfortable for the first time that night.

The pair of them kept talking for a long time. In the mean time y/n had placed her clutch on the table, signaling that there’s no way she’s leaving. Although that was exactly her plan not that long ago. The talked about her studies, his career, where they both came from, and many many things. Before they knew it, people started leaving. Both of them acknowledged that the night had come to an end, though neither of them wanted to leave. But they had to.

“I had a really great time talking to you, y/n.” Oscar said as he escorted the girl out the place. He placed his hand on her lower back, not too low tho, no need to scare her away. Goosebumps ran through her whole body from the combination of his hand and the cold air. She didn’t want the night to end.

“I had too.” The girl answered and smiled up at the boy in front of her. As soon as they stepped out of the venue the cold hit them both. It was the middle of the night so it was no surprise.

Oscar still kept his hand on her back but the girl had turned to face him. They were close, not too close but close enough. “Can I see you again sometime?” He asked and felt his cheeks burning, luckily it was dark.

“I would love that.” Y/n smiled and felt like nothing would ever top this feeling. Oscar actually wanted to see her again. Like a date. They would meet again and talk just like they did before. Unbelievable yet true.

The wind was blowing, messing up the girl’s hair. It didn’t really bother her, she just wanted to freeze the moment. Stay like this forever, that’s what they both wanted to do.

A strand of hair had escaped her elegant bun and Oscar quickly noticed. He put the strand behind her ear and inhaled sharply. Both of their hearts were racing. He lightly caressed her cheeks lovingly and the girl felt the warmth of his fingertips on her face. It was truly magical, until.

Until someone shouted out y/n’s name. Both of them pulled away awkwardly and just stood there. Lily and Alex walked up to the girl, at first not noticing the McLaren driver.

“Oh thank God, you’re here.” Lily hugged y/n and she felt awkward as hell. “You didn’t answer your phone, I thought you left without us.”

“I was-“ she was cut off by Alex who was the first to notice that y/n was in fact not standing alone.

“Oscar?” The Williams driver furrowed his brows in confusion. Oscar just waved then shook his hand. It was all becoming too much. For y/n at least.

And then it hit Lily. The two were together. Of course they were. And they just disturbed them.

“Oh.” Lily looked at the two of them. “So we’re just gonna wait for you in the car. Whenever you’re ready.” She smiled and grabbed her boyfriend’s hand who was still very confused.

As soon as the pair left, y/n and Oscar bursted out laughing. What could have they done? The moment was gone anyway so why stress about it more?

“So listen.” Oscar started. “I would be really happy if you’d go on a date with me.” He came out with it clear and simple.

The girl nodded. “I would love to go on a date with you, Oscar.” God, his name sounded so good from her mouth. He wanted to hear that playing on loop in his head.

Y/n gave the tall boy her number and he promised to call very soon. Little did she know, he would text her that night telling her again how much fun he had. Both of them started heading against different cars, y/n having carpooled with Lily and Alex, while Oscar drove himself home.

“I promise we’ll finish what we started.”

#oscar piastri #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 imagine #op81 #imagine #lando norris #alex albon #daniel ricciardo #f1blr #charles lecrelc #oscar piastri x reader

[malarign]

who they were written by

contains: enhypen | genre: angst, comfort | tw! mentions of death, mention of major injury, lack of confidence, family problems, loneliness | wc: 1,0k

author’s note: let’s just say i chose violence 🫣 who the hell let me write this?

Lee Heeseung | 이희승

➶ an elder lady who reminiscents her past lover

Love never felt so blissful and serene as with him, making it hard to forget his small but meaningful gestures, like fresh morning coffee, his contagious laughter, and jokes that never failed to make her laugh. There was no day she didn’t miss him, death taking his beautiful soul too early, along with hers too. She felt like her life ended the day she lost him forever. Wanting to have at least a little substitute for feelings that accompanied their love she wrote Heeseung, who just like her late lover, is impossible not to love. Heeseung who is a pure example of chivalry and a true gentleman, who treats everybody with empathy and sympathy.

Park Jongseong | 박종성

➶ a man who regrets not letting his son pursue his passion

Watching how his son gets drowned in the huge corporate world that surrounds him. How there’s no sign of the spark in his eye that used to light up whenever he picked up his guitar. The boy who found such relief in playing his favorite songs and felt proud of mastering different riffs was long gone, now somewhat replaced by constantly tired and dispassionate about anything and everything. Regret filled his heart and decided to somehow find a remedy in creating Jay, who thanks to his burning love for music and the wonderful people surrounding him, achieved his dream, and performed his songs on big stages, igniting passion in his fans’ hearts.

Sim Jaeyun | 심재윤

➶ a boy who always felt lonely

Ever since primary school, he never had a friend to rely on, always feeling lonely and not heard. Nobody ever paid attention to him, neither at school nor at home. His parents invested their time mostly in his younger brother’s education and hobbies, driving him to his after-school football practices and maths tutoring and leaving the older one alone most of the time. To feel at least a tiny bit wanted and liked he wrote about Jake, as his older brother he never had, but always dreamt of. Days spent alone at home started to get more bearable and gradually he couldn’t wait to be left with him and his new best friend, with whom he played football and who helped him with his homework.

Park Sunghoon | 박성훈

➶ girl who lost her confidence in sport

Injury is the worst fear of any athlete including her, but once it happens it turns out to be much more. She never even imagined a day she would have to experience the pain of a twisted ankle, but now daily rehabilitation has become her reality. Even after complete recovery, her foot felt like it belonged to somebody else, not listening to her like before. Things that she had been doing easily now were her biggest enemy. All eyes of her teammates were filled with pity, and even her coach stopped spending her time helping her, increasing her misery. What helped her ease her mind was a boy she imagined named Sunghoon, who was the only male ice skater among all the girls, they isolated him by whispering to each other and watching his every fall. None of this stopped him from mastering every jump and technique he found hard in his tempo. If he was able to do that, she would too, even after a painful injury.

Kim Sunoo | 김선우

➶ girl who always wished to have a boy best friend

She always knew boy-girl friendships weren’t particularly the easiest - it’s easy to catch feelings and not every boy is trustworthy enough to be considered a friend. That’s why she desired it so much. Her every male friend ended up being a freak who had a bunch of weird opinions, turned out to be even misogynistic, or simply caught feelings for her when all she wanted was to have a companion. The more she tried the harsher the disappointment. To compensate, she started to imagine one, who she named Sunoo. Hanging out with him was just as she wanted, maybe that’s why she spent so much time in her head. Both of them had their weekly tradition of doing face masks and watching old romantic comedies, judging wrong doings of the characters but also simping to them, just like it happens in movies.

Yang Jungwon |  양정원

➶ a grandma who lost her grandson

Nothing could ever prepare her to lose him, who just like cherry blossoms sweetened her old days with his pure smile and eyes full of curiosity, after years of endless winter. But, the thing about cherry blossoms is, it doesn’t last long. Her grandson, contrary to pink petals, wouldn't be back in a year, he would be gone forever. That pure smile and curious eyes disappeared, or should I say, were ripped off her arms so brutally, so pitilessly. Her life came back to the excruciating dullness and silence. She couldn’t stop thinking about how her lovely boy would grow up, what hobbies he would pick up, and who he was going to love, since he didn’t have a chance to experience any of that, subconsciously creating Jungwon, who lived surrounded by love and gave it to others. Who never lost his pure smile and curious eyes, just like her grandson.

Nishimura Riki | 西村力

➶ girl who always danced alone in her room

She always knew her destiny was on the dance floor. Even her tiny bedroom she had to share with her two younger siblings. Or the daily nagging and lack of support from her parents. Even the fact that she had to do that all by herself. None of that stopped her from doing everything to achieve her dream of standing on stage, in blinding spotlights with crowds watching her moves. Her main inspiration was Riki, a boy she imagined had the same dream as her. In contrast to her, Riki had everything she ever wanted and needed to make things easier - a family full of great dancers, who also owned a dance studio and great teachers and mentors from whom he learned not only different techniques but also to love dancing.

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

taglist: (open) @nicholasluvbot, @en-chantedtomeetyou, @skzenhalove, @kpoprhia, @redm4ri, @yenqa, @heesitation, @candewlsy, @jaelaxies

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen headcanons #enhypen angst #enhypen comfort #enhypen fic #enhypen imagine #enhypen x y/n #heeseung x reader #heeseung headcanons #heeseung fic #jay x reader #jay headcanons #jay fic #jake x reader #jake headcanons #jake fic #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon headcanons #sunghoon fic #sunoo x reader #sunoo headcanons #sunoo fic #jungwon x reader #jungwon headcanons #jungwon fic #niki x reader #niki headcanons #niki fic

[livwritesstuff]

i hit 100 followers while i was asleep (absolutely bananas imo but i’m so thrilled y’all are enjoying my steddie dads verse bc i’ve literally never had so much fun writing before) so here's a sneak peek of a wip featuring the Harrington fam

Eddie does not understand sports. 

He may be approaching fifty years old and way past his old ways of rejecting every notion that doesn’t perfectly align with his own interests, but even after all these years, the wires in his brain simply cannot wrap themselves around sports no matter how hard he tries.

And he does try because, naturally, he has three daughters, Moe, Robbie, and Hazel, all of whom play sports.

To be clear – his kids can do literally anything they want, bar none.

He’s still in goddamn awe with the whole arrangement that is the life he lives every day – kids and a house and a job he loves and all that with Steve Harrington of all people. There’s no way Eddie would start fucking all that up by projecting his own weird quirks onto his children. He refuses to be the kind of parent that prevents their kids from doing anything just because they don't get it. If the girls want to play sports, they’re gonna play sports. Nothing wrong with that.

Still, sports are one of those things he takes the back seat and lets Steve hold the reins for, especially now that thirteen-year-old Moe is pretty deep into the whole basketball thing. 

Steve understands the politics of the game, both on the court — like knowing which refs are gonna be biased towards which team and noting Moe’s play-time each game — and off. He schmoozes the coach, he’s friends with all the parents, all the things Moe, at thirteen, doesn’t even notice and Eddie, while aware of it, doesn’t understand. He still can barely follow the games themselves (and he goes to as many as he can, though he and Steve are outnumbered by one and with the prospect of the girls carting themselves around still a distant fantasy their schedule is insane so he can’t make them all). He does his best to follow his husband’s lead but Steve doesn’t always react to things the way Eddie thinks he will. He doesn’t bat an eye when a kid gets smacked in the face with a ball, nor at the impossibly loud thud when someone hits the deck (look — he gets the floor is hollow, but it is loud). He’s completely unbothered by the fit Moe throws every game whenever she’s inevitably benched for having an attitude with her opponents or her teammates or the coach or the ref or just about anybody who tries to get in her way.

As is what happened at Moe’s game yesterday.

Eddie hadn’t seen it — well, he’d seen it, but seeing something and understanding what he’s actually looking at are two totally different things. From what he gathers, Moe had missed an easy shot and gotten pissed off in her own little way about it, so she’d launched herself at whoever on the opposing team had gotten their hands on the ball after it ricocheted off the backboard. Unfortunately for Moe, the team they were playing had a reputation for being a little too aggressive for a middle school league, so when she’d hit the ground, she hit it hard. Moe had been pulled off the court by her coach (carded, maybe? Eddie still isn’t sure how that works in basketball) and scowled on the bench for the rest of the game.

Steve had tried to reason with her on the drive home (an interesting choice, in Eddie’s opinion).

“Darling,” he’d said, “I totally understand being upset about missing a layup, but I don’t know how to get it through your head that intentionally fouling someone isn’t the way to go about resolving that emotion. I love you and I support you, but I’m getting tired of watching you play for three minutes and then sit on the bench for the rest of the game.”

“Talk to the coach then,” Moe had grumbled.

“About what?” Steve exclaimed, “Moe — you do it on purpose!”

The conversation had ended not long later because Moe decided to give them both the silent treatment (a clear sign that she knew she was in the wrong even if she didn’t want to admit it) and Eddie thought that was the end of it (for that game, at least). Then, Moe threw them a curveball by spending most of that evening in the bathroom throwing up, at which point she admitted that her head had caught more of that fall during her basketball game than she’d originally let on.

Steve doesn’t mess around with head injuries (for obvious reasons), so the next morning he calls Moe out of school and brings her to their pediatrician to get checked out.

A couple hours after Robbie and Hazel boarded the school bus bound for their elementary school, Steve and Moe return home.

“So what's the verdict?” Ed asks as they enter the kitchen.

“She's concussed,” Steve announces.

“Like father, like daughter.”

“No sports, no bright lights, no reading, no school, no phone,” Steve says pointedly, and Moe only scowls harder. She’d been using the incident as a leveraging tactic in her crusade to get a phone. Not being able to play sports was a no-brainer; they’d all seen that one coming, so even as recently as this morning, she’d been claiming that she’ll “die of boredom without a phone,” while she recovers.

Even as recently as this morning, she’d been largely unsuccessful.

“Thirteen-year-old children do not need phones,” Steve had told her, “If someone wants to talk to you, they can call the house, and if it's urgent enough that it needs to be right now, you can get walkie talkies.”

“No one uses walkie talkies.”

“Your dad and I used walkie talkies all the time.”

“Uh, pretty sure it was just the one time, Steve,” Eddie pointed out.

“Yeah! And it worked out great!”

CONTINUE ON AO3

#did it work out great? or is steve's memory of 1986 a little fuzzy in 2014? #eddie is trying his best #basketball is very hard to follow if you don't know the game #as I have learned :/ #steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson

[mysticfalls01]

Time

(Williamson!reader)

The Wonder Twins Universe

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

You had your debut two weeks after arriving to the team, you played in a friendly against Atletico during the preseason. You entered the pitch as a sub for the second half and your impact was immediate. Jonatan saw the way you orchestrated the midfield, your communication with both the defenders and the strikers and how everything went smoothly. The game ended 5-0 with you being player of the match as you contributed with 2 assists, and you had participated in the building of a third goal.

Not only your impact in the team was noticeable but also the impact of joining Barcelona was noticeable. You started learning Spanish to speak with the staff, your teammates and with the fans, you also started to gain more muscle as training in Barcelona was more rigorous than with Arsenal. You felt as if you had been playing in Barcelona for years.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Before you knew it you already had been in Barcelona for a month and a half. You loved everything in Barcelona, the city, the warm weather, the staff, and your teammates.

You thought that joining such a united team it would have been difficult to be accepted and to join into the team’s dynamics however, it has been the opposite.

You could say that Mapi has become your closest friend in Barcelona, she made sure to make your adaptation easier and Ingrid became your confidant and the person with whom you went for advice as she understood perfectly what you were going through, being a foreigner joining Barcelona. Patri and Claudia became your annoying little sisters while with Jana and Bruna you felt the necessity of protecting them and teaching them everything you could, you were sure that those two would become superstars.

Having other British teammates joining at the same time as you have made everything better, you had a piece of home in Barcelona thanks to them.

Finally, Alexia. The chemistry you had her was undeniably, you made her laugh with your clumsiness and with the stories you told her about your adventures with Leah when you were younger and she made your heartbeat faster, you love the passion she has about the game for either the club or her national team. You couldn’t stop thinking about the Catalan and you couldn’t wait for her to be on the pitch again.

The only negative part of joining Barcelona was being separated from your family, specially from your twin. You talked with Leah every time it was possible, you missed being with her almost 24/7. Being separated from her while it gave you a sense of independence it was also the worst feeling ever.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Being in Liga F has taught about a new playing style, your skills have only gotten better and it was noticed by Sarina so it wasn’t a surprise when you were announced as part of the squad for the international break and that’s how you found yourself in the locker room after the last practice before the break saying goodbye to some of your teammates.

“Mapi! Don’t do anything to crazy while I’m gone!”

“Me?!? y/nn I don’t why would you say that” Mapi said with a fake innocent voice.

“You are right Mapi. How could I say that? You are an angel” you said smiling with a sarcastic voice.

You picked up your things before approaching Mapi, hugging her and whispering. “Mapi, if there’s something bothering you, and I mean anything at all you about the coach from your national team remember that I’m one call away.”

“Thank you y/nn, I can’t stand anymore Vilda and his staff. I don’t know what to do, I want to stay strong for the younger ones” she whispered back to you.

“Remember Mapi, one call away” you whispered back before separating.

“Good luck with Norway Ingrid!” you said while giving her a quick hug.

“You to y/nn! I hope everything goes well with the Lionesses”

After saying goodbye to more teammates, you went looking for Alexia who should be finishing her physiotherapy session. You were waiting outside the physiotherapy room when she came out.

“Ale! I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye to you” you said looking directly to her eyes and giving her a soft smile.

She approached you and hugged you.

“If you couldn’t say goodbye I would have understood. Our schedules are hectic.”

“Ale, I had to say goodbye. I wouldn’t have been comfortable without it.”

You guys kept hugging until you heard Lucy “Williamson! We need to go! Are you ready?!”

You separated from Alexia and turned around towards Lucy yelled “Yeah Lucy! Just give me two more minutes!”

Lucy realized that you and Alexia were having a moment, before leaving she said “Two minutes Williamson!”

You turned around back to Alexia and said “Ale I know that I will only be gone for like 10 days, but I’ll miss you”

“I’ll miss you to y/n, good luck for your games y/nn, I’ll make sure to watch every single match. You better return to me, I mean Barcelona in one piece, I would hate for you to join me and the physios.”

“Don’t worry Ale, I’ll take care of my myself” you told her smiling.

Before leaving and turning around you gave her a kiss in the cheek close to her mouth.

If you had turned around to see her reaction, you would’ve seen her really red face and how her fingers here softly caressing the exact spot of the kiss.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

St George's Park, you really had missed that place.

You, Lucy and Keira were just arriving to the place. You couldn’t wait to see your teammates again but the person you wanted to see the most was Leah.

As soon as you guys left the van you were greeted by the media team. After you waved and greeted the camera you entered the lobby.

Before you could even greet some teammates and Sarina a body had tackled you. You immediately recognized her blonde hair and hugged her.

“Look! The Wonder Twins are finally reunited” Tooney said.

After her words everyone turned their attention towards you and your twin.

Everyone could see that was an emotional exchange, they couldn’t imagine how you guys felt.

Finally, Leah and you separated and you greeted everyone.

After greeting everyone Leah hugged you again “I’ve missed you so much sis”

“I missed you too Lee, there’s so much that I need to tell you. There might be someone special in Barcelona” you whispered.

You guys separated and she smiled at you before she could talk Rachel’s voice interrupted her.

“Oi! y/nn what are they feeding you with in Barcelona. You have more muscles than you did before and only in a period of two months!” 

After hearing that you couldn’t help but to laugh.

You couldn’t wait to play to play again with your sister.  After all you guys are The Wonder Twins.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Thank you to everyone! The love recieved by part three was amazing.

If there is anything that you guys would like to see please comment it!

#barcelona femeni x reader #alexia putellas x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #engwnt x reader #leah williamson x reader #alexia putellas imagine #leah williamson imagine #mapi leon #wonder twins universe