#I missed this watching the Olympics at work

[penelopepine]

Little Purple Stars

Ghost x FemReader x Soap

Content: Soulmate AU, fluff, no angst

Everyone had a soulmate; whether that connection was platonic or romantic was entirely up to those involved. Some people even had multiple soulmates, like you did, which wasn’t that uncommon. It happens whenever a person turns 20 yrs old. They are suddenly able to draw on themselves, and have the picture appear on the skin of your soulmate.

You had two soulmates; one of them rarely ever drew on themselves, and if they did it was only with a black pen. Usually said drawing would also be a little black heart next to something that you or your other soulmate drew. You’ve always called this soulmate, Moon.

On the other hand soulmate number two, or Sun as you called them, was much more open and was constantly drawing little doodles all over themselves.

Sun and Moon; basic maybe, but you’ve always felt that it fits them perfectly. 

-

It was your third time entering the Olympics and you couldn’t be more excited. You’re first year you unfortunately didn’t place, second year you won the bronze, and this year you were aiming for the gold. Most of all though, win or lose you hoped that by the end of today you will have made contact with your soulmates.

While getting ready for today you had drawn little stars in various shades of purple around your eyes, making them resemble freckles. Drawing on your face was generally frowned upon, but when events that are going to be televised all around the world exceptions are made.

You tried to give them a hint to watch the Olympics today by drawing the Olympics rings and a TV, but realistically you knew there was no way they could watch the entirety of the broadcast. Even if they did turn it on they could very easily miss your appearance. The only thing you could do now was hope that the two individuals with matching purple stars were watching.

-

Ghost watched as every little star slowly appeared on Soap's face knowing that his face looked the same only that the stars on his face were covered by the mask. It wasn’t until Gaz walked in the office as well and asked about them did Soap even know they were there.

“What do you mean I have stars?” 

“Yeah on your face,” Gaz pulls out his phone and quickly takes a photo before showing it to the Scot. 

“You knew they were there and you weren’t going to say anything?” Soap turns to face Ghost with a playful grin, “Well now you gotta take off the mask; I can’t be the only one walking around here with star freckles.” 

“In your dreams MacTavish.”

Gaz chuckles at the two of them before he sits down in an empty seat, “So I know you didn’t do this,” pointing to Soap, “and you definitely didn’t do this. Can I ask why lucky number three decided to do this?” Directing his question towards the lieutenant. 

“I assume it has something to do with the Olympics.”  

“Aye, they drew that symbol yesterday didn’t they. I guess that was their way of giving us a warning for this; must be for some kind of watch party,” Soap guessed.

“Sounds like my kind of party, the ice skaters are performing in just a bit and I don’t plan to miss it.” Gaz holds his phone showing them the Olympic broadcast already up on his phone before popping in one of his earbuds. 

“I didn’t take you for someone who would enjoy watching figure skating; all it is is watching people move on the ice innit?” Ghost questions, he’s never had any interest in the Olympics before. It was never something he had time to sit down and watch. 

“We can go to an ice skating rink ourselves, and watch Soap try to skate if you want to watch more chaotic skating.” 

“Oi, I didn’t even say anything, don’t go dragging me into this!” 

“You were gonna say something and that’s enough for me!” 

“Yeah yeah whatever,” Soap turns back to the paperwork he had been working on, “I’d like to see you try and skate. Let’s see who’s laughing then.” 

The men chuckle to themselves and all of them focus on items in their hands. It wouldn’t be until an hour had passed that the silence amongst them was broken. 

Gaz’s sudden gasp drew both Ghost and Soap’s attention to him. 

“What happened mate; a skater fell down?” Ghost asks with slight amusement in his voice. He couldn’t imagine himself getting this worked up over anything as simple as ice skating. Continuing to watch as Gaz doesn’t say anything; simply sitting in his seat with his mouth slightly hung open. 

“Gaz?” Soap questions as he steps towards him. 

Very suddenly Gaz shoots up and steps towards him as well, grabbing Soap’s face once he is close enough. Holding up his phone and looking frantically between the two. 

“Aye, wha’ the fuck do you think you’re doing!” Soap swats Gaz’s hand away from his face, “Didn’t your mum ever teach you about personal space.”

“Look!” 

Soap focusing on Gaz’s phone to see what had the man so worked up. On the screen was a woman dressed in purple elegantly dancing on the ice, but what really caught his attention was the fact that she too had purple star freckles on her face; ones that matched his perfectly. “Oh fuck; Ghost!” 

Ghost couldn’t believe what he was seeing for a moment. They had finally found their missing piece. Watching her dance and spin on ice he suddenly understood why people would enjoy watching this. She looks ethereal. 

Looking at Soap he sees an awestruck look in his eyes. He won’t admit but the stars are quite cute on him; on both of them. How on earth did he end up with these two incredibly beautiful and talented people as his soulmates? 

Later all three men are huddled together over the phone watching the award ceremony. The room had gotten embarrassingly loud when it became clear that you had won; Price had charged into the room asking them what had them all yelling for. He had luckily understood when the situation was explained by a sheepish soap, who was definitely making the most noise out of everyone. He was quick to get his energy back though once Price had left the room.

“We have to let the lass know we know we saw her!” Soap rushes to the desk pulling out multi colored pens; waving them towards Ghost. 

-

You had done it! You had really done it; the gold was yours! Standing on the first place podium next to the other medalist you couldn’t help but wonder if your soulmates are watching you. You hope they were proud of you if they had seen your performance.

Trying to subtly check any exposed skin for any kind of sign or acknowledgement that you had been seen, and to your great delight you had been. The sun and moon had found their star. 

There on your wrist was a drawing of a gold medal and right next to it was a little black heart. 

They had seen you, they knew who you were. That thought both excited and terrified you. The only thing to do now was wait for them to show themselves; to find you. 

Stepping down from the podium, and making your way off the ice you give your wrist a kiss and wave towards the cameras.

#simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #soap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #x reader #fem reader #soulmates #john soap mctavish x reader

[girlgenius1111]

did you think i wouldn't come?

viv x lioness reader post olympic qualification. angst + fluff

-----

Viv head towards baggage claim, not really sure what she would find waiting for her there. She'd offered to uber, but you'd insisted that you pick her up.

She hadn't had a chance to talk to you on the phone yet, and she wasn't sure she really believed that you weren't mad at her. Your texts seemed normal, but she couldn't get rid of the nagging feeling deep in her gut that you were mad.

Even though you promised her before you left that you wouldn't be, and she did the same. She knows that she wouldn't have been mad at you, had the tables been turned. Frustrated with the results, sure, but not mad at you.

She would understand, though, if you were upset. You hated losing. Kind of expected from a professional athlete, but Viv knew how hard the team, how hard you, had been working, and not making it to the olympics would be crushing for you.

So, she'd texted before her flight, offering to get a ride from the airport, and even stay at Katie's for a few days, if you needed space. You'd shaken off her offer, telling her not to be silly. Despite this, as she neared baggage claim, as she neared you, she couldn't help the growing anxiety inside her.

She'd barely gotten a glimpse of you before you were tackling her in a hug. She caught you in her arms easily, although quite surprised.

"Vivianne," you sung in her ear, voice sweet and upbeat. "Congratulations," you told her. You felt her stiffen at her words, and pulled back from the hug. "What's wrong?"

Viv couldn't find a hint of anger, frustration, any negative emotion on your face. You only looked at her with love, and a little bit of concern. Snapping out of her surprise, she responded.

"Nothing! How are you?" she questioned, changing the subject.

"I"m good, I missed you," you said, pulling her back in for another hug. She held you tightly. This was better than she expected, so much better. She'd missed you too, a lot, but she hadn't allowed herself to hope to see you much in the first few days back.

"How is your knee?" you ask, after pulling back from the hug once again.

"It's okay. A little sore, but definitely better," Viv tells you, trying to match your unbothered energy, even though she's completely confused, completely stunned at your lack of anger with her. You nod, taking her bag from her and ushering her out to the car. You continue to ask her questions, talking easily with her as you begin the drive home.

Vivianne is hesitant, waiting for the other shoe to drop. You notice her nervous demeanor, but you know Viv well. Pushing her to talk to you when she's upset about something never works, she had to come to you. So, you let the small talk fade out, as your girlfriend's mind is clearly elsewhere.

The Dutch woman doesn't even notice when you pull into the driveway, completely lost in her thoughts. You nudge her, sending a soft smile her way. She finds herself inside, sitting on the couch, her bags left without a thought at the door. Her nerves and her guilt had only increased since arriving back home, and she was completely unresponsive to you when you join her.

She knows you're waiting for her to talk, watching her face carefully for any sign as to what's going on. Viv doesn't really know where to start, though, and it seems you'll have to prompt her if you want her to talk sometime in the next 2 hours.

"Vivianne, is everything okay?" you ask finally, well aware that something is not okay.

"I don't understand," the Dutch woman responds quietly, staring hard at the couch.

"Don't understand what, my love?" You hoped this would get you to the bottom of whatever had clearly been bothering her since arriving home.

"Why aren't you mad at me?" She asked. Your brow furrowed.

"Why would I be?"

"We knocked you guys out. You aren't going to the olympics, and we are."

"Why would I be mad at you about that?" Viv didn't really seem to have a response to that. Sensing her inability to explain, you continued. "You guys worked really hard. You played a good game, and you scored the right amount of goals to beat us out. Obviously, it sucks, but really, Viv, why would I be mad at you about that?"

Viv elects to ignore your last question, opting instead to focus on the first part. "You all worked hard, too. You deserved it just as much as we did."

"Yeah, that's true. It didn't work out for us though." You respond. Viv looks at you incredulously, unsure how you could be so cavalier about something so important.

"I'm disappointed, yeah. And I was upset, at first, because it was so close, we were so close. But I was never upset with you. The Dutch team as a whole? Sure." Not even a flicker of a smile at your attempt at a joke.

"You're really not mad at me?" she asks, staring hard at you, as if searching for any hint that you were lying.

"No, I'm really not. I'll never be mad at you for succeeding, even if it means that I didn't get to," You tell her, hell bent on convincing her. She still looked so unsure, and you brought your hands up to cup her cheeks gently.

"Vivianne, I'm not mad at you, stop looking so serious. Everything is fine, you don't need to worry. I still love you, even though you beat me," you're half joking again, but you don't miss the way relief flickers across your girlfriend's face. It's like a stab to the chest, realizing she was worried that you wouldn't love her anymore because of this.

"Baby, football is football. It's our job, and it's important to me, but it's not more important than you. Nothing is. Our relationship is completely separate from what happens on the pitch, and I would never let how your team performs change how I feel about you. You'd have to do a lot more than knock me out of the Olympics to get me to stop loving you," you tell her, putting as much conviction as you can behind your words.

Vivianne has the decency to look somewhat embarrassed, especially when you put it like that. She can't help but believe you, honestly, not when you're looking at her the same way you always have.

"Okay?" you ask, when she still hasn't said anything.

"Okay," she says softly, leaning over to rest against you. You kiss the top of her head, wrapping her up in your arms. "I love you too, by the way,' she tells you, feeling your chest vibrate under her with a laugh.

"Good," you tell her, satisfied that she believes you now. "What do you want for dinner? I was thinking italian."

"Eh. I kind of wanted chinese," she tells you, relaxing into your body at the change in conversation.

"Well, you get to go to the olympics, so I think I should get to pick dinner," you say, smirking down at her.

"Y/n!" she complains, not finding your joke funny at all. Alright, it was a little funny. But only because it was you. Anyone else making that joke would have just annoyed her. You didn't seem to be able to do that, though, no matter what you did. Apparently, you felt the same way.

-----

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #vivianne miedema #vivianne miedema x reader

[luveline]

I love the KBD universe 🩵🩵. It’s so soft and comforting. Idk how you always write such gentle slice of life moments that stay soft even when there’s moments of conflict.

I was rereading the series, and in one scene Steve asks reader if they wanna make out, but Avery comes in before they can. Can I request a scene where they do get to make out (nothing super spicy) and spend that time with each other? I know it’s got to be difficult with four kids.

kisses before dinner —you and Steve languish in some rare alone time. mom!reader, 1k

"Hello," you whisper.

He looks up in surprise, eyebrows lifted. That surprise quickly melds to a soft-boned happiness as you sit in his lap —he's splayed sideways on the armchair, and you have to sit sort of sideways on him to meet his eyes. 

"Everybody's sleeping," you say, brushing a stray strand of hair from his eyes as the TV light paints him a blur of multicolour. "Even Wren." 

He looks up. "How'd you do that?" 

You told him to relax for a bit before bath time. He must've gotten distracted by the TV, which he doesn't often get to watch lately, and so you hadn't really minded. Full time childcare is exhausting. It comes to something when you're nearly happy to go to work, though coming home every night is still what you wait for, and it's thanks to him that you can drive home in excitement.  

"I'm multi-talented." You nestle your way under his chin, his arms curling around you as though they have a job to do. Firm. Immediate. "Wren went down like a miracle. I only had to rub her back." 

"Avery?" Steve asks. 

Avery's under the weather, so you let her skip bath time and tucked her in, sending her to sleep with little more than a forehead kiss. Beth was similarly eager for bed, knocking out after half of a story, her hand insistently in yours. Dove, in contrast, took three times as long to settle, but was convinced by the pad of your pinky finger as it traced up and down the bridge of her nose. 

"Tactile creatures, your girls," you murmur. 

"Where do they get it from?" he asks as he begins to stroke a quarter circle into your back. "Tokyo Olympics called again. Team USA needs you on their roster." 

He's declaring you impressive for such a feat as tonight's solo bed time. "The answer's still no. I don't think anyone wants to see me in a leotard." 

"I do," he says, kissing the top of your head. His lips soft, his voice the same, he hugs you closer still. "I so do. You look nice in everything." 

You could fall asleep like this, in his arms, his lap, your face drifting down his chest as you curl into his warmth. There's nowhere else you'd rather be (besides possibly bed, but even then you'd need it to be with him). "Thanks, Steve." 

"You're welcome." 

The room is quiet. The house stirs and rain lashes the darkened windows every now and then with the indecisive winds, whistling through tree branches far away. You shiver at the sound and Steve sets your goosebumps right with bigger strokes of his hand, a familiar up and down pressed into your back. Pressure to distract the senses. 

"Thanks for doing bed time." 

You wave it away. It's nice to be appreciated, but in the face of everything he does you don't want any thank yous tonight. "I just wanted to spend some time with you." 

"Yeah?" he asks, sinking lower into the armchair, the majority of your weight following down onto his abdomen rather than his legs. 

"I really…" missed isn't the right word. You missed him while you were at work, and time spent with him and the girls is just as worthy and sweet as time alone, but that doesn't mean you can't want both. "I've been thinking about you." 

Steve doesn't flinch at your odd wording, the opposite. He knuckles trail loosely to the small of your back, a smugness to the curve of his lips as he smiles, and says, "I've been thinking about you." 

Steve usually looks handsome. You've seen him bedraggled, dishevelled, and exhausted, of course, but he puts a majesty into nearly everything he does. He can take a plate down from one of the kitchen cabinets or hike one of your sweethearts onto his hip and you'll remark to yourself about how pretty he looks. This isn't taking into consideration how attractive you find his heart (that list is endless —compassion, dedication, loyalty, etc). The stuff you love about Steve goes on and on and on.

You curl a hand behind his head and card through his hair, not sure what to say. His eyes meet yours. "They don't have a word for how much I love you, H." 

His voice rasps with a low pleasure, "I could think of a bunch for you. Only if you want. I'm smart like that." 

Your lips twitch. "Please," you say, giving his scalp a playful scratch. 

"Endlessly," he begins. "Eternally. Overflowingly." He leans forward to touch your noses together. "Fuck," —he laughs as he searches for another— "started so strong. Uh… infinitely. A whole fucking lot?" 

"Loads." 

You both laugh, the heat of the others breath like a phantom of a kiss between you. 

"Loads," he agrees. "Wickedly." 

"Deviously?" 

"Ambitiously. A shit ton." 

You kiss him gingerly, not worried he won't kiss back but wanting to stay in this moment for as long as you can. "Love you loads," you say against his lips. 

With your eyes closed you can't see his expression, but you can guess at what he's doing. Steve likely has his brows sewn together, a grimace on his lips that might suggest the opposite of what he's feeling. 

He acts like kissing you is the only thing that he could ever need, that this intermission is painful but absolutely necessary. "I love you," he says. He whispers your name, raising his hand to cup your cheek. His marriage finger rubs a mindless little shape into the soft skin under your eye. "I love you." 

You wrap your arms around his neck and hook him closer, smiling into a second and much less ginger kiss. 

#kisses before dinner universe #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #dad!steve harrington #dad!steve harrington x reader #dad!steve harrington x mom!reader #steve harrington x afab!reader #afab!reader #mom!reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fluff

[sunshine-theseus]

Pequeña | Kyra Cooney-Cross x Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: you make stupid decisions but you got your girl in the end.

Warning: fluff, horrible self-care, fainting

My parents and I moved from Spain to England when I was 5.

I was a quiet kid with no friends, who spent most of her time reading or listening to music. At seven years old my parents decided to sign me up for my local football kids club to try and get me to ‘open my wings’, their code for ‘stop being a fucking loner we value popularity over smarts’. I haven’t seen them in 8 years.

Turns out I was fucking great at football and by 12 I was in the Arsenal Football Academy. At 15 I was playing for their Women’s team in the WSL and was debuting for England’s national team. I spent most of that time on the bench of course, but by 17 I had a large ‘1’ on my back and was starting 90% of games at Arsenal. I didn’t have many friends though, especially when I knew most would either leave to bigger leagues or transfer teams. I preferred it though because that meant I had plenty of time between training and games to study and read and play music.

Another 6 years later and I’m playing for England in the Semi-finals of the 2023 World Cup against Australia. I wasn’t our main goalie, but Mary had gotten a concussion so that left me and like hell I would let us lose this close to the finals. I’d nearly managed to keep a clean sheet until Sam Kerr came running up from halfway, past Millie and chipped it behind me into the goal. Despite the goal, we won.

As I’m walking toward the girls, I tripped over something, or someone, sitting on the sidelines near the tunnel. One of the Aussie girls, clearly tired and upset, curled up to their goalkeeper. If there was one thing I could do, it was recognise a phenomenal goalkeeper when I see one, and Mackenzie Arnold was just that.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper to her as I pat her shoulder and copy the gesture for the girl next to her.

I didn’t know much about her, but I’d seen her play. Her footwork was incredible, and she was clearly underrated and underestimated, something Arsenal could benefit from.

“Wanna swap jerseys?” it comes out soft, I almost miss it as I turn away. When I turn back around, I expect to see Mac offering her’s, but instead I see the younger girl looking up at me questioningly and I smile. I’d already swapped with Mac in a friendly earlier this year, and I love collecting jerseys from different players.

“Fuck yeah.” and within seconds she has my jersey pulled over her head, and it hangs loosely, clearly a few too many sizes too big for her.

I then pull on her’s, for a moment fearful it would be too small, but I’m thankful for her clear preference for baggy clothes as it slips over my torso. Mackenzie beckons over their photographer, and I pose with the still nameless girl. She’s small in comparison to my 5’11 stature and I giggle at the difference before offering her a piggyback for a silly photo.

As she jumps up, I notice shocked stares of my teammates from the corner of my eye but shake it off as she wraps her arm around my neck as if to choke me.

“Has anyone told you how small you are?” I ask her as I drop her back to the ground.

“They don’t shut up about it.”

“I think I’ll call you Pequeña.” I chuckle at her confused look.

“It means small in Spanish.”

“What the fuck!? Fine I’m calling you fucking Giant or something.”

I don’t get her actual name that night, but I look it up when I get back to my hotel room, Lotte missing from the space.

Kyra Cooney-Cross. An unexpected star.

I watch one of her games instead of doing my uni work and fall asleep to one her interviews playing.

~~~~~

I don’t expect to see Kyra until whatever friendly we have with Australia before the Olympics. In the time after the World Cup and before pre-season, I’ve hung her jersey in my hallway, along with all the others. I put her’s at the entrance with others like Mapi León and Christine Sinclair, people I consider special.

We also begin talking. A lot. I spend most of my spare time calling or texting her, but I don’t tell anyone.

The shock I get when the final minute of the pre-season transfer window approaches, and I get a notification from the Arsenal Women twitter account.

‘KYRA COONEY-CROSS IS A GUNNER✍️’

~~~~~

We’d been knocked out of the qualifiers for the Championship League and yet I walk into training on Monday with a slight spring in my step and excitement buzzing through me. I wave to all the staff and greet everyone, asking how the girls are when I walk into the locker room.

It’s Katie who asks.

“What the fuck is up with you Ms Dark and Broody?”

“Whatever do you mean?” I giggle.

She gives me and incredulous look before turning to the rest of the locker room who share similar expressions.

“W- wh- wh-” she continues to babble as Steph pulls her back to her cubby and pats her shoulder as a way of reassurance.

“You just… you’re never so smiley or talkative. At all. Like ever. Like in the past 8 years you’ve said maybe 100 words per season to me.” Lotte speaks up.

“Not true!”

“I’ve only seen you without a book off the pitch 13 times. I started counting after the 1st.” My jaw drops.

“She’s not wrong Y/n. You’re pretty reserved and stoic. Which there’s nothing wrong with! But it’s just odd to see you, well like this.” Manu points at me as if that’s explanation enough.

“Wow thanks gu-” I’m cut off by someone jumping on my back and screaming.

“BEANSTALK!” and I’m smiling all over again as I turn my head to see the young Australian I’ve been missing.

“PEQUEÑA!”

“I can’t believe I had to put up with your nerdy shit in person every day now.” She jumps off my back and moves to greet the other girls except for Steph and Caitlin who she obviously knows.

We don’t get much time to talk before Jonas calls us into the meeting room. He introduces all our new players like Kyra and Lessi and announces the return of Vivianne and Beth to our playing squad, before going over how we need to improve after our defeat in the Champions League.

“L/n, I know you just came 2nd in the World Cup but you cannot be slacking like you did in the game against Pairs. You’ve got to be doing more.” I don’t get to reply before he’s ushering us out onto the pitch.

I’m left in a sour mood the rest of training, once again avoiding everyone, including Kyra who seemingly found a close friend in Alessia. I had given my all in that game against Paris, but they were good, and I’d stayed up until 2am the night before completing one of my assignments for my uni degree, something Jonas had encouraged me to do.

I was more mad that he didn’t allow me to tell him why but either way, I’d decided I would be staying after training to practice until I couldn’t any longer. So I did. And I came in an hour early the next morning to get more training in. I continued to do this for a while, studying once I got home until I couldn’t keep my eyes open now that my usual study time was booked. Eventually the girls stopped inviting me for coffee or team bonding and Kyra stopped trying to talk.

We were playing against Man United when I began to sway side to side, and my eyes began to droop. I think Kyra noticed first while on the sideline, and whispered something to Katie as she passed by the bench, but nothing came of it until United got a corner. They didn’t even get to kick the ball before I crumpled to the ground beside a clueless Lotte and Katie Zelem.

I don’t feel myself get carried off the pitch or get transferred to an ambulance. I don’t think I recognise anything happening around me until hours later. The clock on the wall says 9:21 and I think I’ve only slept for a few hours, but then I notice the sun streaming through the curtains and realise the few might actually be a lot.

I then recognise the limp bodies spread across the room. The awfully sterile white room which is nothing like the warmth of my olive-green bedroom. I don’t think I’d been so slow to figure out what was going on in my life.

“Beanstalk! You’re awake!” I look to the small brunette who has been hunched over asleep next to me for god knows how long and smile.

“Hey pequeña.”

“You are so stupid!” Kyra slaps my arm and sends me a sharp glare.

“What the fuck is going on. You’ve been exhausted 24/7 and no one sees you outside of training.” I then decide to explain my rather stupid schedule and reasoning to her.

She stares blankly at me for a while.

“You are genuinely so fucking dumb. I was so worried about you.” She whispers.

“Why?”

“Because I love you.” Her eyes drop to her lap.

“Te amo.” I’m not sure she understands it but she smiles either way and leans in.

Just as our lips meet, Katie abruptly wakes up in her corner of the room and shrieks.

“What the fuck!” and we’re left to quickly pull away as she tries to wake everyone else up to tell them what she saw.

“Katie don’t be fucking ridiculous! They’re both sound asleep.” I hear Kim whisper shout, followed by more of Katie’s babbling about how we’re just pretending as they trail out of the room, assumedly getting coffee.

As the door clicks shut, I open one eye to glance around the now empty room. It seems everyone needed some coffee. Except a certain Australian, whose eyes also peak open.

“Kiss me.” And then her lips are on mine again.

~~~~~

I don’t play again until our game against Bristol for the Conti Cup. Jonas apologised for pushing me too hard but made it clear I was to properly rest before I get to do anything and makes Sarina Weigman promise not to play me during our international break.

Kyra also gets her first starting debut.

It’s a tough game, and in the 84th minute, Kyra drops to the ground. I nearly run to check on her, but she gets back up, and within another minute she gets subbed off for Vic.

The whistle blows, signalling the end of the game, we win 3-1.

I meet Kyra in the middle of the field, pick her up and swing her around. Our first proper game playing together seems like an obvious thing to celebrate. And before I can think, I’m leaning down and kissing her, something I’m not sure if I’ll regret later.

She smiles that smile, brighter than the sun, and I melt.

“Te amo pequeña.”

#woso #woso x reader #the matildas x reader #wwc 2023 #kyra cooney cross #kyra cooney-cross #kyra cooney-cross x reader #kyra cooney cross x reader #the matildas

[saetoru]

[ STILL THE SAME ] MIYA ATSUMU.

“baby, before ya get mad—”

“atsumu, do i even want to hear it?” you sigh, pinching your nose and exhaling. he pouts, looking at you with curled lips and furrowed brows as you stare back unimpressed. 

atsumu asking you not to get mad is almost always a headache-inducing scheme that probably takes a few years off your life, and you’re not really in the mood to test your mortality for your handful of a husband at the moment. but something tells you he’s not going to drop it any time soon, so you simply sigh before motioning for him to continue. 

“okay, i’m ready,” you say warily, “spit it out before i get a migraine.”

“i…uh, i can’t find ma weddin’ ring,” he says quietly, fiddling with his fingers as he refuses to meet your eyes. you blink, processing his words before they really register.

oh. 

and now that you look closely, there’s almost a slight tremble to his lips, the tiniest wobble that he tries to fight back as he meets your eyes with glossy ones of his own. and suddenly, your heart clenches as you take a step forward and cup his cheek.

“aw, tsum,” you murmur, tracing the soft skin of his cheek with your thumb, reaching to pinch his nose affectionately with your other hand, “that’s okay. we can go find you a new one, a fancier one this time now that we have more—”

“but ‘ts not the same,” he sniffles, pouting at you deeper as he leans his face closer into your hand. 

atsumu proposes to you the night before his first msby game, just a young rookie player with the beginning of a career beneath his feet. he accidentally blurts out please marry me when you squeal over his new jersey, and when you pause, shock clear on your face as you shakily whisper that’s not fair, tsum, he pulls out a ring from his pockets like he’s been waiting for this moment for weeks. 

and he has—he’s young and hasn’t even made a decent earning yet, doesn’t even fully know how his credit score works, still calls his mother to ask how to start the laundry machine, but he knows he wants to marry you like he knows the ball will be ready for his teammates to spike as long as he’s on the court. 

so you kiss him in your dingy little living room, tearfully pulling him close after you whisper yes, and he slides the best diamond he can afford with his carefully earned savings onto your finger. it’s the same ring that he’s been trying to lump together enough money to buy, the one he’s had his heart set on for a while now. and when you blow him a small kiss from the bleachers before his turn to serve the next day, the slight glimmer of the ring catching his eye, he brings you home the most service aces of the game. 

and he’s come a long way since then—a starting setter for a v. league division one team, sponsorship offers left and right, magazine covers as a well-known athlete, an olympic champion. you’ve watched him grow, watched him beam proudly as you move into a larger home, one with fancy windows and hardwood floors, but you watch him stay the same atsumu you fall in love with when you’re just figuring out how the world works and where you fall in it. 

he’s still the same atsumu who snores too loud and hogs the blanket, the same atsumu who can’t cook to save his life but makes you the best cup of coffee you’ve ever had, the same atsumu who wears mismatched socks and never checks his pockets before he puts his pants in the laundry. he’s still the same atsumu who calls his brother a scrub but helps clean the onigiri miya tables during closing hours on his way home from practice, the same atsumu who sometimes gets homesick and misses his mom after he calls her every morning, the same atsumu who never falls asleep without pressing a kiss to your forehead and whispering i love ya no matter how mad you are at each other before bed. 

so you smile, squeeze his cheeks together as he looks at you miserably, pressing scattered kisses across his face like the sun meets your lips with each one. 

“did you check the bathroom counter,” you raise a brow, giggling when his face flushes a light shade of crimson. 

“i might’ve forgotten about that one,” he chuckles sheepishly, “ya might not want ta go in the bedroom for a while—’s a mess in there.”

“you tore up our whole bedroom before checking there?” you roll your eyes, making the pout return from earlier. and he’s still the same atsumu who makes your veins pop and your eyes roll, the same atsumu who’s as stubborn as he is obnoxious, the same atsumu who makes you question your choices at least three times a day—but you think he’s worth it when his eyes meet yours and the breath gets knocked from your lungs. 

“i’ll clean it,” he defends, “ya’ll be able ta eat off the floor when ‘m done in there.”

“we’ll be lucky if we still have a floor anymore when you’re done trying to clean,” you snort, pinching his cheek as he scowls at you. and with a playful roll of his eyes, he plants two warm hands on your waist, familiar and safe as they pull you flush against a sturdy chest. 

miya atsumu, when he kisses you just as sweetly as the first time, as the night he proposes to you, as the day he marries you, as he did last night and the night before that, reminds you just why you said yes all those years ago. 

“don’t be mean,” he grumbles, making you laugh as you wrap your arms around his neck, “if i lose ma ring, ya’ll have no proof ‘m yer husband. what then?”

“then i’ll do this so everyone knows you’re my husband,” you wink cheekily before pressing another kiss to his lips, smiling into them as he melts against you with a soft sigh.

for my love sayu's champagne kisses collab @tahdashii !! sjdsdfh technically it's about a wedding ring instead of an actual wedding but i hope it counts sobsob

© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok

#teepods.writings #drabbles. #atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #atsumu fluff #atsumu x y/n #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x you #miya atsumu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fluff #hq x reader #hq x you #hq fluff

[kneelingshadowsalome]

so, i’m currently taking a west civics class in college, and i am currently researching ancient greek civilizations, most notably, the arts and culture of ancient greece. i know you have written a fic based on its mythological stories, with minotaur könig (bless your beautiful soul).

but through my readings, i couldn’t help but come up with such a dirty daydreams while in class. i couldn’t stop myself from thinking about könig and… the ancient olympics…

i know, realistically speaking, women were not allowed to attend or watch these games for the most part. so, in a universe where könig’s dedication not only falls upon him being a top man, but being the perfect man in honor of being recognized by the god of strength himself, he becomes so enticing in the way he trains and readies himself for such a significant event of his life. he’s never really had much to care for, neither does he need to prioritize anything that isn’t him or his training. he’s a workhorse, nothing stopping him from being the best, most valuable follower of zeus. that is… until…

well, it was your fault, and you admit that, but he wasn’t stopping you either. i mean, who could blame you, this little thing sneaking and peeping at a man who’s at work in order to provide to cute women like yourself. in fact, you argue that this was your way of appreciating a man, to observe them in their element in such a loving gaze. it didn’t help that könig was a man who preferred to train naked too, in all his glory, so of course there was no missing you, you were just too obvious for a man like him to notice you.

and with every grunt he’d give after each swing of a fist or a blade, a mew is what you’d give in return, your own form of a cheer for him to keep going. and you promised you didn’t mean to stare and make distracting noises, but an innocent maiden like yourself was just too hypnotized by this new anatomy that was found between this man’s legs. so outspoken, so dirty for your mouth to spew such beautiful filth to a stranger.

was this könig’s new test of endurance? part of the program to make him stronger for the olympic event that was just around the corner. he has heard man advising others to refrain from sex before the games, but he hadn’t even been given the chance to work on that since no one was bold enough to approach him like you did. he wonders, does fucking before a game really make a man weak, does thinking about shoving his big dumb cock in his soon-to-be wife distract him too much to succeed? perhaps, perhaps not, one thing he does know though, he’s got someone else to honor and worship, which makes his training all the more necessary.

Oh my god….. I’m totes not getting caught up in the fact that women were not allowed to participate in these activities….

This led me to think, what if some misbehaving little creature decided to peep at this Hercules reborn? She gets caught one day, but because she’s absolutely carefree and unhinged, she asks König if he could show her how to train.

CW: Nudity, implied sexism/misogyny (Ancient Greek society thang), teasing König to the point where he gets a boner and growls

Our Olympian hero gets so confused that he forgets he was supposed to report you or throw you out of the gym. Outside, where birds fly free and the sun tortures the trainees, he has picked a spot where he can train in solitude and silence: for some reason, other people’s stares make him uncomfortable… Until this curious, sweet little nymph came around, perched atop a wide rock, munching some wild mountain herb as she watched him train.

He allowed her to watch him train for two days, but on the third, he marched over to her and told her she needs to leave. Women are not allowed here, doesn’t she know that? Where are her parents? Does she have a husband?

No, no husband, and her parents don’t really care what she does. Well, this explains why she’s behaving this way. Running around the hillside so untame, watching men train—can’t she see she’s putting herself in danger? Any one of these men could decide to just take her on the barren land if she’s not careful.

She just giggles and asks, would he like to take her? Then points out that men shouldn’t waste their seed before a big competition. Also, Zeus’s wife would not think well of him if she saw him rut innocent women on the hill... There’s nothing but heaven above them, surely someone would see. The gods could curse him with a weak ankle, or a sprained muscle, a failing heart or a snake bite…

“All right, all right, that’s enough,” he says, but there’s even worse to come.

Next, she asks if he could show her how to lift those smaller rocks, how to throw a javelin or a discus. Could he teach her how to wrestle…?

“Absolutely not,” he scoffs while his groin floods with warmth at the thought of wrestling with this pretty, wonton woman. She’s absolutely disgraceful, and yet, he doubts she’s running from man to man, teasing them to death. She’s not begging to get raped, she’s just… a little gullible, or something. Happened to take interest in him, little thing. As she should, after all, he’s the pride of this city...

“You fear I’ll become better than you?” She asks with little stars in her stare.

“Bah. Don’t be ridiculous...”

They’re both smiling, now. This kind of banter and games he has never experienced with a lady, she’s making him extremely uncomfortable and at the same time, fly high like Icarus. He’ll have to be careful he doesn’t get burned…

When he still refuses to show her how to train, she shrugs and goes over to the wooden javelin that’s taller than her. Picking it up, he expects the gods to smite her down with a sudden hail or thunder, but nothing happens. The sun keeps on shining, and the sheep keep on baaing. She weighs it with two hands, then starts to look for a spot to try and throw it.

“Wait,” he calls after her, but she only looks back at him with a smile. Picks off to run, with the javelin securely in her right hand, she runs like a deer while he lumbers after her, completely perplexed.

Insufferable woman… He’s growing hard from the cock as he runs, somehow aroused by this silly chase. Like Apollo trying to court Daphne, but his Daphne is not meek and unwilling; she’s giggling as he huffs and runs after her like a stumbling giant.

At a distant field of nothing but rock and weather-beaten flowers, she stops. Shields her eyes as she looks for a perfect spot, she’s not even breathless when he finally catches her. She turns around to look at her hero, catching his breath in the sun.

“You’re not fit enough for a marathon,” she comments. “Did you lift too many weights?”

“Give me the javelin,” he pants, dismissing her blunt analysis of his weaknesses. Stepping towards her, he extends his hand, offering her a chance to return it to him without fuss.

“Wrestle it from me,” she smiles, so playfully and brightly that his cock suffers another throb.

Gods damn this woman... She’s toying, playing with him, teasing him to the point where he’s left no choice.

He doesn’t want to hurt her, which means the “wrestling” becomes an awkward battle of snickers and limbs. His cock gets in the way, and to an outsider, this might look like a scene of an oddly gentle, upcoming rape… This little minx is giving him such an ache in his head and his loins that he’s gritting his teeth by the time he gets his hands around the wooden spear. By then, she has her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms above her head as she’s lying on her back with him on top of her.

“I’m not letting go,” she laughs as they both hold the spear, his erection now blissfully trapped between her legs.

“Who sent you,” he grunts, head spinning as he tries to figure out which of the gods is trying to give him trouble this time.

“What do you mean…?”

“You’re here to thwart and tease me. Tell me who sent you, now.”

“You think I’m sent by some angry god?”

Her eyes sparkle even more, if possible. She even giggles under him and under the sun, her laugh like a thousand little bells in his ears.

“That’s so cute…!”

His grunts turn into a hollow, painful growl – even Tartaros is better than this.

“Train me, and I’ll let you have your silly javelin,” she smiles, even licking her lips before they purse together innocently.

But he knows she’s far from innocent. She has to be a curse of some sort, a plight sent here to torment him, because he finds himself sighing, “Alright…”

He gives her one condition: she has to wear clothes; no flaunting herself around him and especially not around the other men if they were to ever see her. They will both get flogged or worse if this mockery comes to daylight… She gives him a soft, adoring smile this time, and says of course, whatever he says.

The next day, she’s waiting for him at the training grounds, javelin in her hands…

Completely, utterly naked.

#könig x reader #könig x you #silliness #torturing könig #we all know how this will end so i don't have to write a full fic for it right ^^

[topguncortez]

Slap Shot || Chapter 1

A Jake Seresin Hockey AU

previous part | masterlist | next part

synopsis: You arrive at your new job in North Island, and are hit with memories that you'd much rather leave behind. Jake faces the repercussions of his fight on the ice with his teammate

word count: 2.9k

warnings: grief, mentions of sexism, injuries, losing a parent, locker room talk, hockey inaccuracies, mentions of cheating, workplace harassment, mentions of sex

When you were about five years old, your kindergarten teacher asked you what you wanted to be when you grew up. Most of your classmates gave answers such as “teacher” or “doctor” or “superman”. You, on the other hand, stood in front of the packed gym on the night of your kindergarten graduation, your head held high as you gave your answer. 

“A Stanley Cup Winner.” 

Of course at the time, you didn’t understand that women could not win the Stanley Cup (you figured that out at age 8 and it caused the meltdown of all epic meltdowns). The closest thing women could get to the Stanley Cup was a gold medal at the Olympics. You worked your ass off from the time you could successfully skate without falling, to your senior year of highschool. Every waking moment you had was spent at the rink, running drills from sunup to sun down. You lived and breathed hockey, and as the daughter of the late great Michael L/N, you had big shoes to fill. 

You just never imagined the moment it would all come crashing down. 

It was a dumb idea, in hindsight. It was a really dumb idea. Weeks from the US Olympic team tryouts, you agreed to joining your friends at the lake. A place you liked to avoid like the plague. It wasn’t that your parents and coach kept you away from having any fun in your life, you simply chose to ignore the dangerous stunts your friends like to partake in. But for some reason, you decided to take a chance and take a break from the grueling training schedule your coach had created. It was a hot summer day in the middle of July, and a day out on the boat sounded like heaven. 

You should’ve said no to trying to wakeboard. You should’ve just stayed on the boat, watching the epic wipeouts by your friends. It would’ve been the smart choice to make. . . but you never were that smart. One bad landing into the wake created by the boat, had you breaking the surface with a horrible scream. Your friends reacted quickly, jumping into the water to help you stay afloat as you screamed in pain, your collar bone protruding awkwardly under your skin. They got you to the hospital quickly where you were told you had broken your collarbone and torn your ACL in your knee. The physical pain wasn’t even as bad as the emotional pain that came a few weeks later. 

“I’m sorry, but you will never play hockey at the level you are playing it now. I suggest. . . quitting altogether if you want to avoid having a shoulder replacement before you’re 30.” 

A bullet to the chest would’ve hurt less. 

At first, you laughed at the doctor’s suggestion, all but telling him to fuck off and asking to see his credentials. Your parents had tried to talk some sense into you, telling you that maybe heeding the doctor’s advice could be beneficial. Your dad knew guys from the league who had shoulder or knee injuries, and it never ended up in their favor. Years of pain and suffering, turning to questionable methods of dealing with the pain, missing out on crucial time with their families or significant others. But you were stubborn, and didn’t want to quit playing when you were about to try-out for the biggest moment of your life. 

But you never made it that far. In fact, you never finished your senior season. From the first puck drop, everything was shit. You weren’t as strong as you had been, having lost muscle in both your arms and legs. You felt off balance, and were cautious of every move you made on the ice. You knew the statistics, you were at a higher risk of tearing another ligament in your knee after tearing the first one. Your collar bone, even though it had healed without having to have surgery, clicked and popped anytime you tried to make a slapshot. You were making mistakes you hadn’t made since peewee hockey. Your teammates were growing increasingly annoyed, your coaches were becoming exasperated, and your dreams of making it on the US Olympic team had slowly drifted away. It was a hard choice, but in the middle of your senior year, you decided to hang up your skates for the last time. 

Even though you weren’t actively playing, your love for the sport didn’t die along with your Olympic dream. In fact, you found a new way to get involved with the sport, deciding that you were going to major in public relations and team management. Your goal had shifted, and now you wanted to be the first female Hockey manager. 

But like most goals, that was easier said than done. 

It was 2024, and even with the establishment of the Profession Women’s Hockey League and the US Women’s Hockey team winning numerous gold medals on the world stage, women in the league still weren’t taken seriously. You were told all through college, as you sat in your team management class to choose a different sport like swimming or volleyball or gymnastics. More “women friendly sports”. You weren’t going to throw in the towel and give up on your dream, no matter how many teams had denied you. 

When you were hired by the North Island Daggers, you weren’t sure what to expect. They were known as the joke team of the NHL. Always finishing last every season, being most teams shoe-in win when they played against one another. Having gone from working as a PR rep for the Dallas Stars, you felt as though this was a demotion, a punishment for a freelance article you had written about how women were being treated in the NHL. You knew the article was going to be risky when you sat down and wrote it. You just didn’t expect to get a call an hour after the article was published telling you that you were being sent to work with the Daggers. 

“We’re happy to have you here,” Beau Simpson, spoke as your heels clicked down the long hallway behind him, “As you can see, we need a little PR help.” 

“Yeah, I saw that fight between Holloway and Seresin the other night.” The whole NHL fan base saw the fight, but you weren’t about to tell Simpson something he was probably painfully aware of, “Interesting decision to bench him before going against Endmonton though. He’s your strongest player.” 

“Can’t let him get away with bad behavior,” Simpson shrugged, stopping outside a large conference room with glass walls and a large oval table in the middle, “Hey, I’m sorry about your dad. I got the honor of playing against him my rookie year. Hell of a player. Terrible thing, cancer is.” 

“Yeah, thanks,” It had been months since your dad died from cancer, shocking the world of hockey. You thought by now you would have been used to hearing condolences from strangers, but they still made your ears burn and your face flush. 

Simpson nodded courtly, opening the door to the conference room where two sharply dressed men and a woman sat. 

“Gentlemen, this is Y/N L/N, the new PR rep for the North Island Daggers,” Simpson introduced you as the two men stood up, and you immediately knew who they were. 

“Pete Mitchell and Tom Kazansky, co-owners of the North Island Daggers,” You answered, shaking both of their hands, “An honor to meet you, both.” 

“The honor is all ours, Miss Hamilton,” Pete smiled at you as he sat down. 

You wanted to correct him, but decided not to. Sometimes, it was easier to let people call you by your father’s last name, than try and explain why you dropped it and took up your mother’s maiden name. The world of sports was a game of who you know and who you belong to. If your last name was that of a hall of famer, you were almost guaranteed anything and everything you wanted, and you hated that. When you were vying for the spot on Team USA, you wanted it because you were skilled, not because of who your dad was. The same stood now, as you were trying to work your way up in the hockey world. You wanted this job because you were good at it, not because your dad was hockey royalty. 

“I’m Mrs. Wright, the executive public relations and human resource officer,” The woman, who’s blonde hair was slicked back in an impressive bun, held her hand out to you. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Wright,” You smiled at her, trying hard to not gawk at the huge diamond ring that sat on her finger. 

“We’re glad you could join us on such short notice,” Tom spoke, “We know that you just got let go from the Stars for a shit reason if you ask me.”

“Thanks,” You muttered, clasping your hands on the conference table in front of you, “I am happy to be picked up by the Daggers though. My dad really enjoyed his time here as a rookie.” 

“Damn, we missed him when he left,” Pete shook his head, as if he were remembering the “good ol’ days” as your father referred to him during his rookie season. 

“The reason we hired you, Miss Hamilton,” Mrs. Wright spoke up, breaking up the reminiscing, “Is because we are in the middle of a PR storm. We have a player who has caused quite the controversy lately and is in danger of losing his sponsors. From our research, we know that you do fantastic work with building player profiles, turning rookies into known players, making the bad guys look like the good boys. We need you to do that.” 

“Okay,” You nodded, “So am I taking over the social media accounts like I did in Dallas, or-” 

Mrs. Wright looked apprehensively at Pete and Tom, who sat up a bit in their seats. 

“Not necessarily,” Pete cleared his throat, “You will be paired one on one with one of our problematic players.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed, before realization struck you, “Wait. . .” You held your finger up, “You hired me to be a glorified babysitter?” 

— — — 

“I don’t need a babysitter.” 

Jake grunted as he set the barbell back on the rack above him. His gray workout t-shirt was drenched in sweat as he sat up, looking both his agent and trainer in the eye, “I’m fine on my own.” 

“You got in a fight,” His agent, Steven, deadpanned. 

“Everyone gets in fights, its hockey,” Jake shrugged as Javy handed him his water bottle. 

“With your own teammate.” 

Jake glanced over to the other side of the workout room, where Wren Holloway was working out with Bradley Bradshaw, still supporting a black eye from the fight that broke out a couple of days ago on the ice. The fight, which was being dubbed “The Dagger Civil War,” was definitely not a highlight Jake liked to have hanging over him. But in the game of hockey, sometimes the tension runs high, and in that particular game, Jake had gone out looking for a fight from the moment the puck first dropped. It was just unfortunate that his opponent was his teammate. 

“Look,” Steven shifted on his feet, crossing his arms across his chest, “The fight is the least of our issues right now. We have sponsorships ready to pull out on you because you’ve been labeled the “hot head” and the “problematic child”. And what is this that I hear about an affair with the coach’s wife?” 

Jake groaned, standing up from the workout bench, and taking the sweat towel from Javy’s hand. Both of them followed Jake through the weight room. The Daggers might’ve been the worst team in the NHL, having a history of one play-off appearance in the 70 years since they’ve been a team, they sure did have one of the nicest facilities Jake had ever been in. State of the art work-out and physical therapy rooms. Rehabilitation pools, and an indoor track. In-house chefs that served breakfast, lunch and dinner, plus tons of snack shops throughout the building. And the best part, two full sized practice rinks. 

Jake walked over to the smoothie shack, where a bright-eyed hopeful girl sat down his regular smoothie order, his name with a heart around it. 

“Here you go, Jake,” She batted her eyes as Jake took the smoothie, making a clear display of taking off the sticky note with her number on it and setting it back on the counter.  

“Not interested, but thanks,” He nodded, turning back to Javy and Steven, who glared at him, “What?” 

“You sleep with her too?” Steven asked and Javy snickered. Jake was going to shake his head no, but had to double check who it was behind the counter, before shaking his head. Steven rolled his eyes as Jake walked towards one of the rehab rooms. 

The moment Jake laid down on the exam table, Javy got right to work. Javy and Jake were like a well oiled machine, they knew one another since they were kids, growing up next door to one another. They played on the same youth hockey team, until it became too expensive for Javy’s family to afford. It broke the young boy’s heart to have to give up the sport he loved, and Jake had begged his parents to help Javy be able to play. Even though the Seresins insisted on paying for Javy’s fees and equipment, the boy didn’t have the same passion for the sport as Jake did, and he thought it would be a waste. Instead, Javy found another way to be on the bench next to Jake, working as the team equipment manager, to athletic training assistant, to athletic trainer for the Daggers. 

“Shoulder still bothering you?” Javy asked, grabbing Jake’s arm and moving it in a variety of ways. 

“Yeah,” Jake grimaced, “Still has that whole clicking thing going on. Guess that hit from Svec was harder than I thought.” 

Javy snickered, remembering the hit Jake suffered a few weeks ago, “He laid you out flat, man.” 

“Shut up,” Jake grumbled. 

“Mhm,” Steven cleared his throat, directing Jake’s attention back to him, “We weren’t done talking yet.” Jake rolled his eyes, which only seemed to infuriate his manager, “This is serious, Jake,” Steven sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Simpson wants you out, wants you so far gone from the Daggers, hell, probably even the National Hockey League.” 

Jake scoffed, “I’m the best on the team."

“You haven’t been for weeks.” 

Jake huffed again, knowing that Steven was right. He has been off his game for the past couple of weeks. Missing key plays and open teammates. Almost all his shots were deflected or totally missing the net. Not to mention, he felt like his skating had modeled that of a newborn calf, shaky and off balance. The hit from Svec several weeks ago, was just the tip of the iceberg of the list of injuries Jake seemed to have racked up in the past couple of weeks. 

“Look, your spot is in danger.” 

That got Jake’s attention, making him sit up from his laid back position, “What are you talking about?” 

“There’s a kid down on the juniors that is amazing. He’s either been breaking or matching all your records. They are calling him the next you.” 

Jake’s eyebrows furrowed. He didn’t really pay attention to any other league but the one he was currently in. Of course, he kept his eye out for any information about the national team. It had been his dream since he got to the NHL to play for Team USA and make it to the olympics. Playing on the junior team had been one of his greatest memories, and when he felt for the first time, he could actually make it in this sport. 

How could he have ignored that there was someone breaking all his records? 

“Who is this kid?” Jake asked. 

“Drake Silvia. He’s signed to UMich, but also a projected first round draft pick,” Steven clenched his jaw, “They want him. And they will have him. . . at your expense.” 

Jake felt like his heart dropped to his ass. He had never felt the feeling of fear for his spot on a team before. He’s always been the best. Always been the hot commodity that every team wants, that every coach would roll out the red carpet to get him to visit their team. Before he decided to go straight to the drafts, he had nearly every single college in the country and some in Canada, begging for an ounce of his attention. 

“However,” Steven looked around the empty rehab room before leaning in close, “Henderson signed his retirement forms this morning.” 

“What?!” Jake spat out, “He’s retiring?” 

“No announcement will be made until the season is over,” Steven nodded, “But Henderson is done after this year. . . and the captain spot will be open. It could be yours.” 

Besides making Team USA, being named captain has also been on the list of dreams for Jake. All the hockey greats have been captains. Gretzky, Crosby, Hamilton. Jake’s childhood bedroom had their jerseys hanging up in frames. To Jake, no one remembered you unless you were the captain, or won a Stanley Cup. And Jake wanted both. He wanted both as badly as he needed oxygen to live. 

Jake sighed, knowing what the answer to his question was going to be, “So what do I have to do?”

A smirk arose on Steven’s cheeks, “If you want to stay on this team, and make captain, you need to abide by the rules. And that means having a babysit-” He shook his head correcting himself, “A personal PR rep.” 

“Fine, I’ll take the babysitter.”

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[starrvsn]

౨ৎ ּ ׅ ۫ ✧ 。BOYS IN THE BOAT ˚₊ ꒰ PRETTY LIKE YOU !

﹙ MOVIE/FANDOM ⠆THE BOYS IN THE BOAT ﹚

𝟒𝟏𝟏. some of the ficitonal characters from the boys in the boat, reactions to you giving them flowers :)

STAR LEFT A MESSAGE! hi friends! i know i haven't posted in a while but i just recently watched the boys in the boat and i absolutely loved it! especially the cast, full of fine talented men- so here's a little something about them with more to come! if you have any requests or ideas about them please let me know!

INCLUDES ⠆joe rantz, don hume, bobby mach, george hunt and chuck day (just some of the characters im partially attached to…)

BOBBY MOCH ⠆

after their first win of the season, you greet bobby with a bouquet of flowers themed after the school's colors— immediately giving him praise and compliments about their win today. you knew he had a rough past season with the last crew, now seeing him with a new crew he trusted, something he was so passionate about. you were excited for him!

when he asks where this all came from, you shrug the gesture off as if it was nothing. stating that the flowers just reminded you of him and just had to give them to him. a wide smile tugs on his lips as he accepts them, his hand caressing yours gently. he appreciated them more than you knew. pulling you close, he presses a kiss on the crown of your head. caring less about his damp uniform or the loud crowd around you, just you and him.

“thank you lovely, these are beautiful.”

DON HUME ⠆

he's absolutely speechless, it wasn't everyday a man would recieve flowers and don didn't think he would be one of them. his eyebrows jump to his hairline when he sees you at the entrance of the shell house with a bouquet of flowers in your hands. his breath hitches as he asks where you got them from and you reply kindly that they're for him, giving him a sweet smile which he returns. you wanted to congratulate him for making the team, it wasn't easy and all the effort he put in finally paid off. a faint blush falls on his cheeks as he takes them, a beautiful arrangement of daisy's and poppy's held by a piece of brown parchment. he takes your hand tugging you into a hug, squeezing you appreciatively. there weren’t enough words to describe how much he loved them,

"this bouquet might be just as pretty as you." now you blush, playfully slapping this arm as you continue to hold him close. he wanted to keep them alive for as long as he can and maybe get you a bouquet in return. later (few months) when he sneaks you into the dorms he see's the bouquet in a glass still thriving well, making your heart swell.

JOE RANTZ ⠆

he's gotten several bouquets from several girls after winning gold in the olympics. he's received a many of gifts from different people but none of them felt as special as yours. when he saw you for the first time since their win in germany, you had planned to go out on a date to celebrate so when he comes to pick you up with his own bouquet in hand. imagine his surprise and delight when he sees you walk out of the building with your own bouquet in hand. he lets out a soft laugh in disbelief watching as you. a proud smile on your lips, almost skipping towards him.

"ever so original rantz?" you jokingly say, fiddling with the fabric of your dress. holding the flowers to him— they're almost identical to his except, he has your favorite flower in the bunch making your heart swell.

"i didn't know you were gonna get me flowers." he replies, ever so charming smile gracing his lips. you tell him you wanted to surprise him— a token of your appreciation for all that he's done, all the hard work he and all the other boys put in. he thanks you greatly, exchanging your bouquets. he presses a sweet, chaste kiss on your lips before interlocking hands and walking to your date destination.

GEORGE HUNT ⠆

george didn't really take mind to trivial things of interest like that, what his favorite flower was but he made a great deal to what yours were and he never missed the chance to give you flowers when he could— after any occasion he would give them to you. if you passed your exam or got into a fight, he'd get flowers to make it up to you. he didn't really expect to get his own flowers, as it really wasn't a thing.

so one day when practice was particularly grueling and draining, the last thing your boyfriend had expected was seeing you; with a small bouquet of flowers in your hands waiting outside the crews dorm. you were speaking with roger, keeping you company. "who are those for?" george announces himself, now standing between the two of you. you chuckle bidding roger goodbye as he leaves, now alone with your boyfriend— a timid smile forming.

"pretty flowers for a pretty boy." you proclaimed, holding out the bouquet to him. he huffs a laugh taking them carefully, admiring them. he raises a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, cradling your cheek— caressing it gently.

"these a perfect darling, just like you."

CHUCK DAY ⠆

“a new admirer giving you flowers? giving me a run for my money?” chuck eyes the bouquet in your hands, noticing that there was none of your favorite flowers in them— what kind of admirer were they? you let out a soft giggle that sounds like music to his ears. he won't lie, a slight pang of jealousy hits him at the thought of another man giving you flowers but he'd ask you another day.

"no silly, they're for you." you reply, standing from the bench to give them to him. he lets out a small breath of relief, practically melting at the gesture. he takes a hand that was stuffed in his pocket to take the flowers from you, eyeing them carefully. you tell him that some of the flowers had meaning— like the red tulips and daisy's meaning love. his gaze softens as you continue to explain, a loving smile gracing his lips as he admires your face and the bouquet. lovingly, he plucks a flower from the bouquet and tucks it behind your ear

"you're so sweet you know that." his hand running down your arm, grasping your hand gently rubbing your knuckles. you almost swoon— tilting your head in admiration "well you deserve the best, i hope you know." he knows, with you around it's hard to forget.

ownership of starrvsn. please do not repost, modify or translate.

#(⁠´⁠ー⁠｀⁠) the boys in the boat #the chokehold this movie has on me is insane #the boys in the boat #the boys in the boat fanfiction #the boys in the boat imagines #joe rantz #joe rantz imagines #joe rantz x reader #don hume #don hume imagines #don hume x reader #bobby moch #bobby moch imagines #bobby moch x reader #george hunt imagines #george hunt x reader #chuck day imagines #chuck day x reader #fanfiction #fanfic writing #x reader

[meazalykov]

redirection; prologue

esmee brugts x barcaplayer!R

a girl realizing that a huge rejection lead her to the best redirection possible

Most of the 2022-2023 season, I’ve been working hard within the tryout camps to get a spot on the United States Women’s national team roster for the World Cup. I played for the Washington Spirit in the NWSL as a Striker.

Most people in my circle believed that I would’ve had a spot on the World Cup roster due to my overachieving skills. I had high hopes about accomplishing my biggest dream. However, when I got the facetime call from the USWNT coach, letting me know that I wouldn’t be on the World cup roster, that belief was crushed. 

My emotions were all over the place when the facetime call ended. The tears in my eyes ran down my dimpled cheeks for hours. My breathing was rigid and I couldn't think straight. It got to a point where my bestfriend, Trinity Rodman, comforted me on a facetime call. She made it on the roster and my happiness for her was distracted by the disappointment for myself.

“I feel like my skills, hard work, and motivation goes unnoticed.” I cried on the facetime call to Trinity. I pulled the black sleeves of my Adidas hoodie up and wiped my tears. To be honest, I felt like clicking the red “end call” button and falling asleep. I didn’t want Trin’s happiness for herself to drain away due to my rejection from the World Cup. 

“There’s so many people in the world that recognize your talents, y/n. Everyone is disappointed too. Just know that your time will come and you can use this as a bigger push for the 2024 olympic roster.” Trinity commented. She was right, but the disappointment and rejection was too big to have optimistic thoughts currently. 

After the facetime call ended, my imessage notifications were blown up with most of my Washington Spirit teammates, family, and non-soccer playing friends apologizing to me when they didn’t see my name on the roster that was posted. They gave me reminders of how good of a player I still am. Many of my USWNT teammates, including my close friends Sophia Smith and Emily Fox, expressed how disappointed they were because I wouldn’t play in Australia with them. 

Currently, I have seven caps with the USWNT. As a nineteen year old, this is a normal amount of appearances. So I had developed relationships with some players who consistently appear on the team. 

Alex Morgan is an example. She is my inspiration as an American striker myself. I’ve seen many people compare us and how we play. I scrolled on the 433womenfc instagram comments on the USWNT roster post and a particular comment stuck out to me, 

“Washington Spirit’s y/n l/n should’ve had a spot over Alyssa Thompson. She could’ve been a good sub for Alex Morgan since they’re both strikers and she has more international experience. USWNT missed out.” 

The tears in my eyes poured down my face again but instead of calling a friend or family member to talk to, I placed my phone on the charger and went to sleep. 

Three months later: 

The USWNT was eliminated from the World Cup after a penalty shootout with Sweden in the Round of 16. This broke my heart when I watched the match in my apartment last week. The USWNT won the 2015 and 2019 World Cup and a three-peat would've broken records. 

Currently, I sat in the backseat of a fancy black van as I headed to a fancy restaurant in downtown DC. My agent wanted to talk to me about my next career move, since my contract with Washington Spirit expired right before the world cup. 

I am assuming that my next move will be within the NWSL, many clubs contacted my agent during past transfer windows for a possible move. However, Spirit rejected those transfers since they saw me as an important striker. Trinity wanted me to stay at Washington Spirit and sign a new contract. I didn’t because I felt lost. I knew my heart belonged somewhere else. I loved the club I've been with since I was sixteen, but I needed to move on. 

The dark green pants and black long sleeve on my body was comfortable for the early-august weather. You’d expect the weather to be hot but it’s 8pm and the breezy air made for a perfect temperature. 

I sat down in a booth across from my agent, Heather. She held a blue ipad in her hands and already ordered water for us, which I took a sip of after we greeted each other. This meeting would determine my next career move.

Two hours later, I walked out of the restaurant in excitement and shock. Heather let me know that many clubs in many leagues contacted her as they needed a goal scoring striker. 

WSL clubs, such as Chelsea and Manchester United, were the first to contact my agent. In fact, they’ve wanted me since the last transfer window. I wasn't opposed to Chelsea, since a few of my American friends played there. NSWL clubs such as San Diego Wave, Houston Dash, and Portland Thorns wanted to offer me a contract too. 

When my agent mentioned the last club that offered me a contract, my jaw dropped to my feet. Liga F club FC Barcelona needed a striker and their coach was impressed by my goal scoring abilities from last season. Barcelona was my dream club and Heather saw my eyes light up in admiration and disbelief. 

As the dinner ended, I told Heather that I'm looking forward to joining Barcelona. She told me that she will let Joan Laporta and the sporting director know about my commitment. I wanted to cry in joy, I am moving to Spain soon to join my dream club! 

(pretend you’re trinity rodman) 

433womensfc

Liked by salmaparalluelo, and 21,613 others

tagged: @y/n.l/n

OFFICIAL: 🚨 19-year old American Striker y/n l/n from Washington Spirit signs a 3-year contract with FC Barcelona on a free transfer. She will be the first American to sign for the Liga F club 🇺🇸🔵🔴 

comments

y/nstrikes_ barca fans she will not disappoint! 💙❤️

esmeebrugts 🔥🔥

wosofan23 aitana bonmati and y/n l/n link on the pitch should be illegal 😭

        leahwilliamsfan67 i agree 

lekkerbrugts esmee ona and y/n joining barcelona?? barcelona is unstoppable. 

cghlover55 this is so crazy 😍🔥

randomuser4789 she was too good for the nwsl, can’t wait to see her compete in europe.  ❤️

   16 replies 

(pretend you're ona batlle)

fcbfemeni and y/n.l/n

liked by esmeebrugts and 93,973 others

our american star has arrived 😍💙❤️🌟

comments

aitanabonmati ❤️

ingrid_engen 😍😍

graham95 niceee🤩

y/nhive THIS MAKES ME SO HAPPY

felixfan14 SAME 😍

trinity_rodman SO HAPPY FOR YOU *nickname* 😭💗🎉

lindseyhoran10 woohoo!!!

uswnt 😍

alexiaputellas 🥰

*esmeebrugts started following y/n.l/n*

next chapter: redirection I

a/n: this is my first woso fic! this is the first chapter to this series and I'll write more for other players as well :D I hope you enjoy!

#esmee brugts #woso fanfics #woso x reader #barcelona femeni #barcelona women #oranjeleeuwinnen #wwc 2023 #alexia putellas #aitana bonmati

[magics-neptunes-things]

One Love (2)

Hello everyone!

After several requests for Luna, here again. The requests can be found here, here and here. I know I haven’t answered all the suggestions you’ve made, but it gives me more ideas for other stories/chapters so it’s pretty cool right?

Also, I have absolutely not reread what I wrote, apologies if there are mistakes.

Enjoy!

TW : Jealousy, suggestive

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5

______________________________________________________________

Lucy was looking at her girlfriend with pride. She was gutted when she learned that her team wasn’t qualified to play the Olympics Games, which was quite understandable. But now in her WAG era, she can’t be anything except proud of her girlfriend. She just has to shoot a glance at Lia to know that she’s proud of her own girlfriend too. Her friendship with her was unexpected to be honest. But when Ona mentioned that she could assist the final of the UEFA National League with the Swiss Woman, Lucy didn’t refuse. She didn’t know personally Lia, but some of her friends did and she always heard good things about her.

And since they had a great time together at Sevilla, Lucy proposed at Lia to watch the game together. They weren’t in the family section, but Lucy is wearing a Spanish jersey with the number 2 and O. Batlle written on the back. She couldn’t be more obvious than that. Lia chooses to be more subtle and was wearing a bracelet with Spanish color and Mariona’s number writing in white.

“She’s looking for you” Lia says to Lucy.

Ona was actually in the pitch, her eyes scanning the crowd. Lucy told her where she will be sat, but it’s difficult to see when the stadium is full like today. Laia Aleixandri came to hug Ona and exchange a few words with her, before starting to look at the crowd too.

“They are so bad at this” Lucy laughs.

“Mario didn’t find me either” Lia smiles.

But it doesn’t really matter, both know that they will find their girlfriends later for the celebration. Ona is disturbed in her research by Aitana, coming to jump on her back and taking her to go to the ceremony and be cover with her gold medals. Another one to add to the Spanish collection.

With a pout on her face, Ona let Aitana take her by the arm, leading her where they’re supposed to be. But Ona turns her head one last time and that’s when she saw her. Her face light up in an almost funny way and Lucy just wave at her. Ona wave back, making a heart with her hands before following Aitana, her heart lighter now.

***

Almost two hours later, Ona can finally go to the room where their family and friends are. She just out of the shower and her hair are still wet from it, but she just wants to see her girlfriend. She thought that now that they both live in Barcelona being away from her will be less difficult. How was she wrong. Being apart from Lucy is harder everyday and she can’t remember how she survived the long-distance relationship at first. Her being in Manchester and Lucy in Barcelona, they were way more apart than together. Even if they managed to have quality time, like the day when Lucy went to see her play, it was hard. And she was missing Lucy a lot.

Lucy’s smiling when she saw Ona and the younger one can’t resist and almost jump in her arms. She saw an edit of her almost crashing in Lucy’s arms at each beginning of games and Lucy teased her a lot about it.

This time, the English woman pick her and squeeze her hard in her arms, lifting her feet off the ground a few centimeters. Ona laughs and put a kiss in her neck, before being putting on the ground again.

“You were amazing. Like always. I’m so proud of you Ona, I swear” mumbles Lucy, stroking Ona’s cheek.

The brunette blushes, unable to keep looking at her girlfriend. Her smile is wide anyway and Lucy has to work on herself not to kiss her like crazy right now. She knows those kinds of kisses will come later, in their hotel room. Or Ona’s hotel room, in which Lucy intends to impose herself tonight.

“I love you” whispers Lucy in Ona’s hear after taking her against her one more time.

Ona looks at her this time, still with her big smile on her face.

“I love you too, Luce. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for one million. Plus, I have my new bestie now.”

Ona follows Lucy gaze on Lia and Mariona, standing a few meters from them, and chuckle lightly. And, because she’s still in her girlfriend’s arms, she lets herself go a little more against Lucy. The dark hair woman kiss her hair softly before releasing her.

“Go say hi to your family, your brother is here and I think he misses you. I’ll try those margaritas. I see you later superstar.”

Ona pouts but let Lucy push her in the right direction. To be honest, she missed her brother, her sister-in-law and her parents too. She went for them under Lucy’s gaze, before the English woman went to the bar.

Lucy let Ona enjoy her night with her teammates and family, even if she knows a lot of them. She’s happy for the Spanish team, a lot of them are her friends too after all. She talks with Jenni with whom she hasn’t had much exchange since her departure for Mexico, but which she is happy to meet again.

She talked with Mariona too, Cata and Aitana. It’s only when she’s talking to Alexia about the new restaurant in their neighborhood that she feels a twist in her stomach.

“You’re not watching your girl, Bronzey?” asks Jenni with a smirk, cutting their conversation.

Frowning, Lucy immediately looks for Ona’s figure in the crowd. She spots her quickly in a corner of the room, talking with someone. Well Lucy wouldn’t have a problem with Ona talking to someone, but this someone having their hand on her girlfriend, it’s something else.

“Who’s this?” she asks Alexia.

The blonde looks in the same direction before answering. She frowns too and it piques Lucy’s curiosity. Usually, Alexia knows everyone, even from afar. No matter who this girl is, she still has a hand on Ona’s shoulder and holds her hand with the second.

The English girl feels her blood bubbling in her veins. She was never jealous before Ona, she was more the kind of girl who can let her girlfriend for a two weeks journey without her. She can’t even imagine this kind of things with Ona. It’s not that she didn’t trust her girlfriend, she knows Ona would never do anything like that. But she didn’t trust the world, who doesn’t seem to be able to resist Ona’s charm.

Lucy’s jaw is tightened when Ona looks up in her direction. But Lucy realizes immediately the look of distress from Ona. She didn’t need more, putting her glass in Jenni’s hands before crossing the room to take her girlfriend back.

“Hola” Lucy says when she’s next to Ona.

She heard them talking in Catalan and thanks to Ona, her Catalan is way better than it was before. Next to her, Ona seems to be relaxing and it’s only now that she’s by her side that Lucy realizes how uncomfortable her girlfriend was.

“Hola mi Vida” Ona smiles, before turning at Lucy’s opponent “Lucy, this is Maria. Maria, you know Lucy?”

Lucy can’t say if it’s because of her burning look, but the named Maria release Ona almost immediately, to their relief. Still keeping her eyes on Maria, Lucy takes Ona by her waist, dragging her against her body. But Ona let her do it, knowing how much Lucy can struggle with her jealousy sometimes.

Lucy learns that this Maria is here because she’s a great friend from Atheana and as Ona and Maria talked, she didn’t let Ona go. Ona’s hand finds their way to Lucy’s back pocket, the English woman smirking at the movement.

Atheana finally comes to take her friend back and If Ona says goodbye, Lucy only responds with a vague gesture of the head. Ona let a sigh of relief go, sticking against Lucy.

“Thanks for coming for me” Ona whispers.

But Lucy only grumbles, still looking at Maria who is now talking to Teresa. She only takes her eyes away from her when Ona kisses her jaw.

“Who was this bitch touching you?”

Ona flinches a little at the question, dragging Lucy’s attention once again. She doesn’t want to hide anything to her though, so she answers with all her sincerity.

“Maria. We… Well, we had a thing, some years ago” Ona confesses, looking carefully at Lucy’s face.

Lucy knows she doesn’t have the right to be jealous, Ona had a life before her, and she knows it. But still. Having her brain picturing her girlfriend with someone else is always something very disturbing for her.

“And why your ex thinks it’s ok to touch you the way she did?” Lucy groans

“I don’t know. I try to escape her grip but when I took a step back, she moved forward by two.” Ona answers, still looking deeply at Lucy, before asking. “Do you maybe want some fresh air?”

“Yes please”

Without waiting a little more, Ona takes Lucy’s hand to drag her outside. It was cold now that the night is well advanced and Ona shivers almost immediately. Lucy sees it, of course, and opens her arms in invitation for her girlfriend. The younger one doesn’t hesitate to stick to Lucy, who then tightens her arms around her, locking her with her in her jacket.

Rocking themselves lightly, Lucy let her lips slide along Ona’s temple. The Spaniard has her face against Lucy neck and really thinks she can fall asleep just like that. She can smell and feel Lucy everywhere and it’s her favorite place to be.

“When was it?” Lucy asks suddenly.

“What?” Ona mumbles almost sleepily, pulling her face out of Lucy’s neck.

“You and this… Maria”

“Oh. It was way before you.”

“Well, I hope so. I’d have to kill her otherwise.”

Ona giggles lightly, kissing her girlfriend softly on her lips. She missed this feeling too, Lucy’s lips are way softer than she expects at first. And she loves it.

“It was before Feli. In like 2018, 2019 I think” answers Ona after the kiss, playing with Lucy’s baby hair on her neck.

“And why didn’t it work with her?”

Her tone was less aggressive now, Lucy being genuinely intrigued by the answer. Ona almost never talks about her past relationships; Lucy isn’t even sure that she can name all of Ona’s exes.

“I don’t really know” Ona answers “We were young and the long-distance relationship wasn’t really for us. At the end we were just fighting for everything, anytime. It was really tiring honestly. She was the one who broke up, but it was definitely better this way.”

Lucy hums, looking at her girlfriend with a thoughtful gaze. Ona didn’t take hers away, her arms still around her neck. But then Lucy seems to come back to herself and tighten her arms around Ona’s waist.

“Well, she had her chance. Now you’re mine.”

********

Hours later, Lucy’s watching Ona came back to reality under her, a smirk on her face. They had their personal celebration after the official, Lucy following Ona in her hotel room. They didn’t really ask the permission to be honest, but as soon as the door was close behind them, nothing mattered.

Letting Ona catch her breath again, Lucy kisses slowly her cheeks, her nose, her neck and every part of her face. Soon after she can feel Ona smiling under her lips and that’s the moment when she kisses her lips.

“You okay Princesa?” she whispers against her lips.

“Couldn’t be better” Ona mumbles. “You?”

“More than that” Lucy assures her.

Ona smiles but doesn’t let Lucy gets up from the bed when the English woman try to, wrapping her hands around Lucy’s body. Even under the explanation that she was just going to get them a bottle of water, Ona doesn’t release her.

“I had to live almost a month without you. Don’t hope to take a step without me being less than fifty centimeters from you.”

Lucy laughs, lying again with the Spaniard in her bed. She lets Ona’s hand stroke her body, with much more tenderness and much less eagerness and almost despair than some minutes ago.

They look at each other, each of them in her own head. Ona is thinking about their time together from the beginning, the first time they really talked at Lucy Stanisford’s wedding. How she blushed when she cross Lucy’s eyes an awful number of times during the night, before Lucy came to talk to her. They immediately click together, like to part of the same orange. Lucy was everything she always wished for and she never has been so happy in her life before her.

In Lucy’s head, however…

“I’m going to marry you, one day.”

“What?”

In fact, Ona perfectly understood the words that have just passed Lucy’s lips.

“I’m going to marry you, one day.”

Lucy does not hesitate to repeat herself, without leaving Ona’s face. It’s not a question, rather an information she gives to Ona. The brunette didn’t answer at first, before biting her lips.

“Don’t say that” she whispers.

“Why?” Lucy says, a little louder than Ona “I thought you wanted to get married?”

They had this conversation some weeks ago and Ona confessed her desire to get married with Lucy and having a family with her too. It was something Lucy wanted to too, so Ona’s reaction is a little hard to understand for her at this moment.

“I do” the Spaniard answers, taking one of Lucy’s hands in hers to play with her fingers. “But my abuela always said not to talk about the things we want too often because it attracts the evil eye or bad luck. And what you just said... there’s nothing I want more than that."

Lucy holds back from rolling eyes in front of so much superstition, content to deposit a delicate kiss on the lips of her girlfriend.

"There is no evil eye, no bad luck, no one who will stop us. Don’t worry about that."

It’s hard for Ona not to believe what Lucy just said. Although the words were whispered, there is such a strength of conviction in each of them that Ona cannot doubt it.

"I love you, Ona. I love you so much and I swear I will fight for us every day of my life if I have to. You are my everything, no one will ever take that away from you."

Ona’s crying now, overwhelmed by so much love. She takes Lucy’s face between her hands and kiss her with all the love, the affection and the passion she has for her. She’s not sure that it proves almost the half of all her feelings, but she try.

And she will try maybe a lot of time more this same night.

#woso imagine #ona batlle #woso fanfics #ona batlle imagine #ona batlle x lucy bronze #lucy bronze x ona batlle #lucy bronze #lucy bronze imagine

[wileys-russo]

“You look better in red” ficlet mayhaps🫶🏼

you look better in red

"no!" you laughed, shaking your head firmly from where you lay on the bed. "baby!" millie whined, stomping her foot like a toddler as she glared down at you. "please." the blonde pouted as you again shook your head.

"what am i then? chopped liver?" mary scoffed, crossing her arms and glaring at the taller girl beside her. "no! i just thought it would work best with three of us." millie huffed, having spent the last half an hour begging you to do a tiktok with her as you promptly refused.

"go on then snakehips. time's a tickin!" you teased, propping yourself up on one elbow and tapping your watch as your girlfriend gave you a mean stare and set up her phone to record.

you were away on england camp for the olympic qualifiers and of course that meant millie and mary had to record as many tiktoks as they could, millie dubbing herself the tiktok princess to marys tiktok queen.

"oi those are my shorts!" you realised as your girlfriend hiked her hoodie up a little, your favourite pair of shorts snugly wrapped around her muscular thighs. "our shorts baby." millie corrected, blowing you a kiss as mary fake gagged.

"best not stretch them with your tree trunk thighs or we'll be havin words." you warned her sternly, mary now ooohing. "ow mills!" the girl huffed as the chealsea player punched her, the timer starting as the music went.

"go on girls!" you cheered with a clap as they both started to dance, stifling your laughter behind your hand as they both went the wrong way and crashed into one another.

this seemed to be a common trend as the two of them routinely argued back and forth about who was doing which part, at least ten takes in and still not able to use a single one. "would you stop laughin!" millie scowled at you as you buried your face in a pillow to muffle the noise.

"sorry! just its like you've both got two left feet. like big clumsy giants!" you clutched at your stomach, now the laughter was free flowing it was unable to stop. "right! if it's so easy then you do it love, go on!" your girlfriend gestured, her and mary stepping back as you shrugged.

you made sure the camera wasn't recording as you clicked play on the sound, counting yourself in and starting to dance, both girls jaws dropping as you didn't miss a beat or a single move. "ta da!" you finished, giving them both a sarcastic jazz hands.

"mary get out." millie mumbled, jaw slack as she stared at you with a familiar look in her eyes. "what?" the keeper frowned, unsure if she'd heard correctly. "out, get out." millie spoke, jumping to her feet and pouncing at you, hand gripping the back of your neck and pulling you into a bruising kiss.

"ergh alright at least wait till i'm gone before you suck face!" mary groaned, grabbing her jacket and hurrying out of the room as millies large hands groped at you. "baby that was so hot." the taller girl mumbled into your mouth.

"don't laugh! i'm tryin to kiss ya here that's not very romantic." millie frowned as you pushed her away, body vibrating with amusement. "you are honestly like a teenage boy, the most weird and simple things turn you on bright!" you teased, shoving her suddenly as she fell back onto the bed.

"go on then baby. dance for me!" the older girl smirked, shuffling back to rest on her elbows as her eyes scanned you up and down hungrily. "you already got a free show. sorry love i'm a one trick pony!" you grinned, sending her a wink.

"alright! well then i guess i'll just have to dance for you." millie sighed, grabbing your hand and tugging you down on the bed, rolling on top of you and attacking your face with kisses before she stood.

"might want to get a head start and take your shorts and shirt off baby, cause this dance is gonna knock your socks off!" millie blew you a kiss and wiggled her finger guns, backing up as you raised your eyebrows at her confidence.

"count me in, from five." she flicked through her phone before she turned her back to you, pulling her hood up to cover her messy bun of hair. "oh my god." you sighed as pony blasted from her phone and you counted her in from five.

"millie!" you laughed as she turned, starting to body roll and bite her lip, mouthing along to the words. "call me magic millie baby." she flipped her hood off, dropping to the floor and rolling her body like a stripper as you laughed.

"baby this is not hot." you bit down on your lip as she wiggled and bucked her hips on the floor, shaking her head so much that her bun was clinging on for dear life to her head.

"scuse me, no talking from the audience." she warned, jumping up to her feet and quickly stripping herself of her hoodie, tossing it so it landed on your face. "keepsake darlin, from me to you." she winked and blew you a kiss as you peeled it off of you and dropped it to the floor.

"do we have a volunteer? oh you look willing for a good time!" mary yelled out, pointing to you and starting to stalk her way over. "millie!" your stomach hurt from laughing so hard as she stood in between your legs, grabbing the back of your neck and pressing your face into her stomach, rolling her body up and down as she continued to sing along.

"you want me? you can't have me!" millie yelled in a funny accent, suddenly shoving you away from her as she turned around and wiggled her bum at you.

you wolf whistled and broke out into cheers as the song ended and she dropped to her knees, peace signs in the air. "now that, that was dancing." millie breathed out, admittedly a little puffed from the effort.

"shut up and kiss me you big dopey idiot."

#millie bright x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso blurbs #woso imagine #millie bright #woso x reader #engwnt

[desi2go]

Date on ice

pairing: Chan x reader

Warnings: fluff

Author's note: I know it's already warmer (well, here it is!), but I saw a cute video of Chan and Jeongin skating on ice and the way they both skated gave me the idea for this fic! Unfortunately I can't find it anymore, otherwise I would link it here.

The winter in Seoul is cold. The wind from Russia brings coldness, especially around January and February. That time is filled with hot chocolates and marshmallows

You love the winter. It seems that the nature is sleeping and finds strength for the next summer. You loved the snow that sparkles in the cold winter sun like fairy dust, that covers everything like a white protective blanket.

And you liked to spend your day inside on your couch with a hot chocolate with marshmallows in one hand and your favourite book in the other.

Chan on the other hand is more the summer person. He spend his childhood in Australia, at the ocean. He just doesn't like wearing big jackets and the coldness outside. It makes him missing his home even more.

You loved standing on the ice. Since you were a little girl, barely walking, your parents took you to a ice skating rink. It was your family activity each winter. While you grew up, the small amount of time that you spend on ice grew and soon, you took some lessons. You loved skating over the ice and with the training you danced, literally floated over the frozen water.

The winter activity turned into a hobby, a passion. You went on tournaments and due to your ambition, you were often gifted with medals. You knew that it wasn't your hobby anymore, it was something that you wanted to do after college. You wanted to reach the olympics, international tournaments.

You trained and trained but your left knee couldn't stand the permanent strain. That's why you choose to let your dream of being a professional ice skater slip and now worked in a restaurant.

There you had met Chan, your boyfriend. Your relationship was fragile at first due to the busy idol life. But you managed to go through that difficult phase and learned that he has a lot to do.

You both tried to have dates at least every two weeks.

This Saturday, you had agreed to go ice skating. You had told him about your past with the ice skating and due to your work, you didn't go skating anymore. But you were happy to finally go again and take your boyfriend with you.

With your bag with ice skates in one hand and your boyfriends in the other, you entered your favourite place. When Chan had some skates too, you changed into your skating outfit. Chan chuckled as soon as he saw your white cuffs that you pulled over the laces of the skates.

When you looked over, you saw your boyfriend moving his skates, still not tied. Full of expectations, he watched you fiddling with your own. You noticed his stare.

"What? Should I tie them for you?" A big smile spread over his face and a small blush crept up his cheeks.

Fast, you had tied them and you could feel Chan's hot stare as he watched your skilfull hands.

"Alright bub. Let's hit the ice" You didn't even wait, you jumped on the ice in a swift motion while Chan held the border firm and placed a foot on the slippery ice while the other was still on the ground. You already made circles around the whole arena while he was still glued to the safe border.

You looked so majestic, like that was your home. You knew the ice better than anyone else. With long precise steps you navigated through the other people and appeared next to him.

"Everything alright?" You asked and took his hand into yours. "Yes. How can you be so fast? I'm glued to the border and I'm not even five metres away from the entrance!" He pouted and you pulled him away from the edge. He yelped and his grip reinforced as he waddled to you.

"Come, let's walk a bit" You turned around so that you skated in front of him and pulled him with you. He was stunned that you could navigate over the ice backwards. He couldn't even skate forward appropriately. You were a queen on the ice. His queen.

His waddling grew steadier and he finally had fun without being afraid of falling. You let one hand go and skated side by side with him. His hands was clothed in a glove while yours were bare and still radiated a comforting warmth. You were used to the cold after so many hours of training.

You looked so relaxed, like coming home and he was happy to create some memories here. Even though he was much better at swimming, in the water in general, he wouldn't mind to spend more time on the water just to see that smile when you teach him some techniques and tricks.

For two hours you two skated. From time to time you would let go of his hand to do spins and jumps that seems so effortless and feather light. Your movements were precise and fast. Then you would take your place at Chan's side again.

Giggling, he tried to impress you with a small spin. Suddenly, he slipped on the ice, rowing with his arms to try to get balance. But he still landed on his bum. Shocked you skated to him and helped him up as he rubbed his bottom.

"Everything alright?" You asked and couldn't hold in the big smile.

" Yeah, but I think I need to work on my spin" he answered.

For sure, his ass will hurt in the next days and he will definitely get a bruise but making you laugh was worth it.

#stray kids x reader #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #bang chan x reader #bang chan #skz headcanons #skz fluff #skz #stray kids

[lazycats-stuff]

Hello, I was wondering if you could do a Batfam x teen reader, who does figure skating?

Sure! Figure skating is so cool. Shoutout to figure skaters!

Summary: (Y/N) loves to figure skate.

Warnings: fluff, supportive Batfamily, author is not familiar with the sport that much, but has given it a try.

(Y/N) is the only normal kid in the entire family and the family would support him in anything he does. No matter what he does, Bruce and the others supported him. (Y/N) is the only person who could make them forget the horrors of the things they have faced.

And one thing that (Y/N) did the best is figure skating. He fell in love when Bruce took him to an ice rink for Christmas. Bruce skated right behind (Y/N) and (Y/N) felt a rush of something.

Was it adrenaline? Was it excitement? Whatever it was, it has slowly turned into love.

After that day, (Y/N) begged for Bruce to find him a club to skate in. He wanted to do this and Bruce decided to comply with (Y/N)'s wishes. And the rest was history.

(Y/N) was in love and he will do it for as long as he can. He had hopes of going to Olympic Games, but for now he was happy to compete in his city and just all over USA.

Bruce was more than happy to drop everything as see him live at his competitions. The others were happy too, but school and work were sometimes impossible to miss, but competitions were mostly on the weekends so that is very nice.

And Bruce could see why (Y/N) liked, no, loved the sport. Bruce has made an ice rink in the house for everyone all year round, but (Y/N) used it the most. He trained a lot and he was happy while doing so.

Bruce sometimes watched him train. He was entranced sometimes. The way that (Y/N) would just fly through the air, just glide on ice all ethereal, almost like a ghost.

Sometimes Bruce thought that (Y/N) wasn't human.

Of course, there were downs too. Whenever (Y/N) fell, Bruce would panic a little bit, but wait for (Y/N) to show his reaction to it. If he got upset, Bruce would intervene and jump in.

If he didn't react, then Bruce would stop panicking. (Y/N) was never seriously hurt and for that Bruce was thankful. Very much so. Just now, he is entering the a very prestigious competition and he is going to be damned if he misses it.

Damned.

This is an important competition for (Y/N) and it would mean everything to (Y/N) if they could be there. (Y/N) was excited to go to this competition. He really was.

It is the competition where the best ones go and where there are people who might look for you to compete in the Olympics. Not to mention, this is the best competition to test his mental will.

That is something you need to have. A strong mindset and tough skin. (Y/N) knew that he had it because his dad is Batman and Bruce Wayne.

Bruce made sure that (Y/N) was strong mentally. That was something that (Y/N) needs in this world and that is something that he will need in order to succeed in his sport and life.

Bruce smiled at his eyes glanced at (Y/N)'s photo on his desk at work. Bruce knows that his son will be able to do this.

Today was the day. Bruce and his sons were waiting for (Y/N) to come on ice. They know that (Y/N) has practiced very hard and he didn't want them to see his routine before hand. (Y/N) said that he wanted to surprise them all.

Alrighty then.

Bruce sat up straighter as he heard his son's name being announced. The others did so too and they watched in awe as they glided on the ice, getting into the position to start, waiting for the music to start. Bruce had to admit, he felt a bit nervous.

Now is the chance.

One shot.

And right now, everything is on (Y/N)'s shoulders and if he doesn't win today, that would be okay, but (Y/N) is a competitive person. All of them are in heart and denying it would be stupid.

Bruce watched in awe as (Y/N) started. They way he just started to glide and move... Bruce's breath hitched as (Y/N) jumped before nailing the landing and Bruce clapped.

Every time (Y/N) jumped, Bruce swore that he looked like he was going to fall. (Y/N) said that he shouldn't worry. It's the best part for him and Bruce trusted him enough to say okay.

They all clapped when he nailed the landing and Bruce smiled. Oh his son is doing so well. Damian smiled too, happy to see his brother so happy and just enjoying himself.

He glided and he jumped again and Bruce's heart stopped for a second. He clapped once more as he landed the landing and they watched as he spun and Bruce's eyes slowly watered. Dick was quietly crying and Jason was close to it.

Damian was still holding on with everything in him. But after another set of turns and then he has decided to do something that a rare few have done.

A quadruple Axel.

(Y/N) often fell on that move and Bruce knew it wasn't an easy move if only one person did it. It was Ilia Malinin and (Y/N) was in awe of the skater.

And despite (Y/N) failing at the move over and over again, (Y/N) refused to give up. Bruce respected the tenacity and could only hope that (Y/N) nailed it here.

Bruce stood up screaming when (Y/N) nailed the turn. The others did too and everyone did so too. Bruce had to lean down on his knees, trying to breath. Dick was clapping so much and then hugged Jason so tightly.

After (Y/N) was done, Bruce and the others have made their way down to his locker room. Bruce and the coach knew each other for a long time and they were allowed to go to his locker room. Everyone was quick and they all hugged (Y/N) when they got to him.

" Now we wait for the results. " (Y/N) said and Bruce gave him a kiss on the head and another congratulations. Alfred came too and gave his grandson a hug.

Now it was time to wait for the results and to see (Y/N)'s placement. Bruce hoped that (Y/N) won.

He really did, but winning isn't everything in life. There is a reason why we fall. It's so we can learn to pick ourselves up.

(Y/N) got first place, with an almost perfect score. Bruce was so proud and he was going brag about this for a long time. His brothers were going to do it too and Alfred will make (Y/N)'s favorite food when they got back home.

(Y/N) tried not to cry as he stepped onto the podium and Bruce took so many pictures that he was going to print out and frame in his office with his other sons.

He may need a bigger desk at work...

Well, that is a problem for a future Bruce. For the present Bruce, they needed to get back to Gotham and cuddle the hell out of (Y/N). The hell out of him.

(Y/N) didn't mind it.

In fact, he loves his celebratory cuddles. Especially when he won and today, after doing a quadruple Axel, he wanted a lot of cuddles.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x male reader #batkids

[miguelswifey04]

boxer! miguel o’hara x doctor! reader (part 1)

summary: where you’re the new doctor at the boxing gym and you meet miguel o’hara, the famous and most strongest boxer. will you and him both explore the depths of your desires or keep it professional?

🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱

you were hired to be the new doctor of the UFC gym where the famous boxer, miguel o’hara, was part of. being a well known olympic-level doctor for the USA women’s gymnastics team the UFC immediately hired you on the spot since you wanted a chance of scenery. it would be a lie to say you didn’t miss the bonds and friendships you created with the women on the gymnastics team but you needed to do this. you needed to expand your horizons.

now after the first fight of the new season, miguel o’hara had become victorious but was definitely battered up. he was sent to you after his win to be fixed up but lo and behold he wasn’t expecting to see a pretty doctor like yourself to be the new doctor around here. his eyes widen for a moment as he sees you. “oh, you must be the new doctor..." he says with a weak smile. he was beaten up pretty bad and was furrowing his brows due to his exhaustion. you glanced at him and smiled sweetly, “yes! i am.” you fixed your doctor’s coat and went to put on gloves. miguel’s eyes wandered to your figure taking in your slim and muscular build. he was a little curious to see that you were athletic and in shape but he quickly looked away when you turned around to face him with that pretty smile of yours.

standing tall, his muscular form showcased his battle-worn physique. his brown skin glistened with a fine sheen of sweat, testament to the demanding match he had just endured.

tightly bandaged hands, speckled with patches of dried blood, were evidence of the brutal punches miguel had delivered. despite his injuries, the aura of authority clung to him, radiating an air of confidence and power.

he approached the doctor, his steps slightly unsteady from exhaustion. taking in the your slightly shorter stature, curvy yet athletic figure, his eyes roamed over every delicate curve with a mix of appreciation and desire. miguel’s gaze lingered on the doctor's mocha skin, drawn to its inviting warmth, contrasting with his own deep brown eyes.

“mmm, a new doctor, huh?" miguel’s voice was hoarse, a result of the intensive match. it carried a hint of a rugged charm, overshadowed by a layer of weariness. "you’ve got your work cut out for you, doc. gonna need some tender loving care after that fight."

the ache in his muscles made a massage seem tantalizingly appealing to him, but miguel wondered if the doctor's touch had the potential to ignite a different kind of fire within him. nevertheless, he needed to maintain his professional demeanor, at least for now.

“name’s miguel o'hara, but you can call me migs," he introduced himself, granting the doctor permission to address him as such. "so, doc, what do you think? can you patch me up and get me back in fighting shape?

you nodded your head as you patted down the bed where’d you needed him to sit on, “yes of course! nice to meet you, migs. my name is dr. y/n but you can just call me y/n.” you smiled sweetly as miguel followed your instructions and watch him situate himself on the bed. “likewise, doc.”

“this isn’t something i can’t do after all i have experience as i used to work with olympic gymnasts.” you carefully touched him.

he extended his bruised hand towards the doctor, seeking their touch. the injuries inflicted upon his hand during the fight throbbed gently, acting as a reminder of the intensity with which he fought. miguel’s eyes never left the doctor, his gaze filled with an intensity that could rival the fire burning within him.

“but let's put those skills to the test, doc," Miguel continued, a subtle grin playing at the corners of his lips. "my hands might be a little roughed up, but i’m sure you can work some magic and bring them back to life."

he leaned forward, his toned body shifting slightly as he closed the distance between them. the scent of sweat and adrenaline clung to his skin, mingling with the subtle allure of his natural musk. the enticing combination teased the air between them, heightening the small space that separated their bodies.

“as an olympic-level doctor, you're not afraid of a little challenge, are you?" miguel’s voice dropped to a low and seductive tone, his eyes glinting with a mixture of playful challenge and raw desire. "because I could use a little TLC, doc, especially from someone as skilled as you. think you can handle it?"

miguel obediently took a seat on the bed, his body relaxing under the doctor's gentle guidance. the softness in your voice soothed him, creating an atmosphere of trust and comfort. though he was used to handling situations with authority and dominance, in this moment, he allowed himself to surrender control and place his well-being in the doctor's capable hands.

his dark brown eyes followed the doctor's every move, studying your grace and precision as you prepared to tend to his battered hands. miguel’s hands were strong and calloused from years of training and fighting, a visual representation of the skill and power he possessed in the ring.

as your nimble fingers began to unwrap the bandages, miguel’s senses were immediately heightened. the gentle touch against his skin sent a shiver of anticipation coursing through his body. he fought the urge to lean even closer, wanting to immerse himself in the doctor's touch, in their essence.

“you’ve got quite the touch, doc," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "feels like you know just how much pressure to apply, how to bring out the healing without sacrificing sensuality."

his gaze never wavered, their eyes locked in an unspoken understanding. miguel’s fingers twitched involuntarily, as if craving the doctor's touch, wishing to trace the contours of your body, to imprint the sensations on his fingertips.

he leaned back slightly, exposing more of his hands to your tender ministrations. as individual strands of bandage fell away, his injuries were laid bare for inspection. bruises and cuts painted a vivid picture of the relentless battle he had endured.

miguel indulged in the anticipation, wondering how the you would heal him, wondering if your touch would ignite a new fire within him, a different kind of intensity. he relished the moment, knowing that in the your hands, his body would be both vulnerable and safe.

———

a/n: i need to stop with these AU’s 💆🏽‍♀️

this is definitely going to be in parts <3

tags 🏷️: @kairiscorner @dracuilina

#spiderman atsv #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel spiderman #atsv x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #spider person #spidersona #ao3 works #boxer au #boxer miguel o’hara #doctor reader #🌱 lin writes

[heavenlyakin]

Atsumu Miya x Fem!Reader

Here's a little late Valentine's Day fic! Minors DNI.

Genre: mild angst, fluff, and smut (the holy trinity!) oh and a little comedy

Warnings: some light couple fighting/bickering, cunnilingus, fem reader.

Word count: 2.6k

Atsumu nearly loses it as you clench around him, body writhing beneath his. Your eyes flutter shut and your mouth parts open to let out another breathless moan. He fights back every urge he has to bust in you now, not wanting to end the pleasure for either of you. 

“Tsumu,” you whine, your eyes opening, glossy with love and lust.

He can’t take it anymore. There’s nothing he can do to stop himself. He cums deep inside you with a final thrust, his breath catching and then a groan escaping. He opens his eyes to look at you, but you start to fade from view. 

Atsumu wakes up abruptly, jerking his arms and sitting up. His forehead drips sweat as he shakes his head. Another wet dream, he realizes. Flipping the covers off him, he sees he’s made a mess of himself again. He flops back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and wishing you’d just come home already. 

Looking over at his alarm clock, he sees it’s 3:34 am, just after lunchtime for you on the east coast of the United States. He never imagined you’d go no contact while visiting family back home, but he also never imagined you’d have such a detrimental fight just hours before your flight. 

–

2 Weeks Prior 

“That’s really close to Valentine’s day, right?”Atsumu asks you, peering over from the couch. You’re surprised to see he’s looked up from the volleyball game he put on half an hour ago. 

“Yeah, I’ll get back here on the 14th, actually.” You tell him, drying the final plate and putting it away in the cabinet. 

When you look back at Atsumu you see he’s frowning. 

“Look, I didn’t buy the ticket. If you have an issue with it, take it up with my dad.” You walk over, sitting down beside him on the sofa. 

He wraps his arm around you and you lean into him, curling up on the sofa beside him. His fingers lazily stroke your arm as you sit with him in silence. He’s watching the Argentinian team again, the one you can never remember the name of. All you do know is that one of the players is from Japan and going to be playing in the upcoming Olympics against Atsumu this summer. You assume he’s keeping tabs on him. 

“What if you didn’t go? I’ll pay to change your flights so you go after Valentine’s day and once practices pick up and I’m not home as often. I-” 

“Atsumu, why don’t you want me to go home?” You snap, sitting up and moving his arm off your shoulder. “I haven’t been home in over a year and missed Christmas with them.” 

“Baby that’s not-” 

“No, it is. You’ve been whining about this trip since my dad booked the flight.” You stand up, storming out of the room and to your bedroom, shutting the door behind you. 

Atsumu has never made a big deal about Valentine’s day before, given you’ve spent two previous together you didn’t think it would be bad getting in on that day. Sure, you’ll be jetlagged and exhausted, but you’d still be able to go out if he wanted to, but last year you had takeout in your pajamas after a particularly long practice. Why would it be any different, especially since his prep for the Olympics has already been so intense, and will only begin to pick up more?

Either way, he’s not getting his way this time. It's not like you’re keeping score, but you tend to give in to his wants more now that you’ve moved in together, even sacrificing Christmas with your family to spend it with his family and meet Osamu's baby. How does he not understand that you just need a few weeks to spend with your family as well? 

You grab your suitcase from the closet and begin to fill it, rather haphazardly. You’re more productive when you’re worked up, anyways so you might as well use the energy. Plus you leave tomorrow night, it’s not like you have too much longer to get your stuff together. 

A light rasping knock draws your attention to the bedroom door. “Baby, I’m sorry, I just am going to miss you is all.” He says opening the door and leaning on the frame, looking rather defeated. 

“It’s fine,” you tell him, going back to packing your bag. “I just need some time to pack and then sleep before the trip tomorrow.” Atusumu looks defeated but smiles anyways and leaves the room.

Even though it’s clear he feels terrible about pestering you, it’s too late now for your attitude to shift. It’s not like you enjoy your sudden shift in mood, but once you're feeling foul there isn’t much you or anyone else can do about changing it. Overall, it’s just better to let you ride it out. 

–

Your nails bite into your palm as the plane starts to land. Flying has always been fine, but the landing has always made you nervous, mainly because you hatehow it makes you bounce around. Luckily, you didn’t have anyone beside you for the flight back home to Japan, so you have been comfortable for the long journey. 

You find yourself picturing Atsumu fighting the airport traffic, cursing and threatening to honk at the people in front of him. Usually, he’s the one at fault, but you’ve learned to just let him rant and rave since he never actually makes a fool of himself to others… just threatens it. 

The next half hour goes by in a flash, it’s grabbing carry-ons, waiting in line, and fighting for bags at baggage claim. Next thing you know, your phone is buzzing with Atsumu’s picture as he calls you. 

“Hi baby,” you answer softly, but loud enough to be heard over the airport chaos. 

“I’m right outside your terminal. Are you already off the plane?” He asks, not sounding as excited as you expected him to be. 

“Yeah, I just grabbed my bags.” You tell him. 

“Alright.” He’s in a mood, you assume. He’s rarely this short with you. 

Okay, I’ll be there soon.” You hang up as you head towards the exit doors. 

You see his car before you’re out of the doors. He managed to get a good spot right up front. Dragging your suitcases behind you, you manage to make it to the car without pulling anything. You’d only brought a carry-on home, but your parents had gone overboard to make up for your missing Christmas, you had to pay for two checked bags to bring back. 

Atsumu jogs towards you, taking the bags from you and loading them into the car, silently. He smiled, but that’s the most affection you received from him. You slide into the passenger seat, pulling out your phone, and scrolling to find some pictures to show Atsumu on the drive home and tell him about your trip. He hadn’t texted you much during the time you were away, so you assumed it was because he was so busy with practices so you didn’t bother calling or texting him more either. 

Atsumu gets in the driver’s seat and starts to take off. “Want to see some of the pictures from my trip?” You wave your phone around smiling. “Everyone missed you this time.” 

“Everyone?” He side-eyes you, and you frown. 

“What’s up your ass?” You ask, putting your phone away in your pocket. “I thought you’d be excited to see me.” 

He sighs, gripping the steering wheel harder. “You texted me twice, in two weeks. You never called. You were angry when you left. So, sorry if I’m not the Mr. Sunshine you expected.” 

“You’re seriously mad at me?” you almost laugh but decide it’s better if you don’t. It’ll probably only antagonize him more. “You could have texted or called me, but you didn’t.” 

He looks over, his brows furrowed. Opening his mouth, it looks like he’s about to speak but then he closes it again, deciding against whatever he was going to say. 

“Happy fucking Valentine's Day.” You sigh, leaning against the door of the car, looking out at the city as it passes you by. 

The rest of the car ride home is deadly silent. Neither of you even bothered to put on the radio or Spotify. It’s awkward but you refuse to give an inch and apparently, Atsumu feels the same way. You sneak a glance at him as you pull into the parking garage of your apartment, seeing he looks exhausted. How hadn’t you noticed that before? 

Maybe you should give in, you think to yourself. Before you left you had been snippy with him, even if you felt like he was trying to get you to not visit home. It’s stupid, how high your temper can run without stopping over little things like silly comments. You hadn’t even thought about it while you were gone, only focused on visiting and getting back here; home. 

Atsumu parks the car, and you look over at him again. His knuckles are still white from gripping the steering wheel. 

“Let’s not fight anymore.” You suggest softly, knowing his stubbornness won’t let him give in. This could be worse than the Cold War if you let it continue. 

He sighs, his hand reaching up to his forehead. He runs his fingers through his blonde hair, pushing it back from his face. “It’s been hell. These last two weeks, absolutely agonizing.” He admits, leaning back against the seat and looking over at you. 

“I’m sorry, Tsumu, I didn’t know.” You tell him, reaching out and taking his hand. 

“Wanna know something funny, though?” He smiles, the silly grin you love so much. 

“Sure,” you squeeze his hand softly. 

“I kept dreaming about fucking you, I couldn’t get it out of my head.” He laughs, tilting his head back and looking at the roof of the car. “God, I even came a few times in my sleep. Can you believe it?” 

“Oh god,” you laugh with him, imagining the way he must have been mortified waking up to that not only once, but a few times. “Maybe we can make up for it after dinner tonight.” 

“Dinner?” He looks confused as you nod. 

“It’s still Valentine’s day. It’s not too late for us to get ready and go out. I can be fast,” you open the door and get out of the car. 

Atsume follows, popping the trunk and getting your luggage from the car. You're quiet again as you take the elevator up to the apartment, but not the awkward kind as you rode in during the trip home. You hold his hand, leaning your head on his shoulder when you can until you’re out of the elevator and making your way to the apartment. 

The next bit is a rush, playing out in front of you like it’s not real. Maybe it’s jetlag? You had just traveled for upwards of 18 hours. Or it’s the rush of knowing after weeks you’re finally going to sleep with your boyfriend again? Not even the dirty kind, just the excitement of sharing a bed, your bed, is exciting after weeks of sleeping in the guestroom of your parent's house. 

After your shower, you dress in an emerald green dress that has a golden sheen to the fabric. Underneath, you made sure to pick out Atusmu’s favorite pair of lingerie underneath a honey gold set with thigh straps attached to the thong. 

“Holy shit,” Atsumu leans against the door frame of the bathroom as you’re applying your last coat of mascara. 

You smile sweetly, turning to look at him. He’s dressed in navy blue slacks and a cream button-up shirt. “I’m ready to go.” 

Atsumu pulls you by your hand into him, wrapping his other arm around you. “I’m not.” 

He kisses you, pulling you closer against him so you’re flush with his body. Your dress rides up in his hand, exposing your ass. He smacks it once, making you yelp against his lips. He laughs deeply. 

“There’s no way we’re making it out tonight.” He mumbles, his voice gruff. 

You giggle as he pulls away, pulling you with him and pushing you against the bed. Your dress has now risen above your pelvis, bunched up underneath and around you. Atsumu takes one look and groans, smiling wildly at you. 

“You fucking angel,” he drops to his knees in front of you. He licks you over the fabric of your thong, sending shivers down your spine in anticipation. “Would it be stupid if I told you you taste sweeter than honey?” 

You laugh, sitting up on your elbows. “Yeah, a little. But I like it.” 

He grins at you from between your thighs. His tongue pokes out again, slowly circling the fabric over your clit. The teasing pressure is too much, you want his tongue on you. Whining, you push yourself closer to the edge of the bed and he pulls back. 

“Ah ah ah, no rushing this. I’ve literally been dreaming of it for weeks.” He says after pulling away and lying his face on your thigh. He looks ungodly pretty like this, and you hate him for it. 

“Please, Atsumu I need you.” You whine, pouting your lip out. 

He grins again. He loves seeing you beg, even when it’s as half-assed as that. You can’t be expected to give more though, after all the day is starting to wear on you. 

He pulls the thong aside and drags his finger down your cunt, covering it in your wetness. “Fuck, you’re so needy.” 

You nod, closing your eyes and letting yourself fall back against the bed. As you bounce lightly against the mattress, Atsumu takes advantage, pressing his tongue against your clit. You moan, gripping the sheets and forcing yourself to stay still. 

He sucks lightly, sending waves of pleasure from your spine to your toes. 

“Fuck me,” you whimper, eyes fluttering open to watch him as he eats you out. He doesn't notice, too lost in you to care about what else is going on. His tongue slides down, teasing your entrance when you feel his fingers slip in. 

The stretch overwhelms you. You can't keep your eyes open now, closing them tight as he starts to finger fuck you while sucking your clit again. 

“Tsumu, of god,” you mumble out with moans traced between words and syllables. 

Gripping the bedding harder, you fight back the overwhelming urge to cum now. You hadn’t even masturbated while you were gone, and now it’s so much at once you’re struggling to stay afloat. Atsumu must know, the way he flicks his tongue and twists his fingers in sync sends you over and you cry out. Cumming you can’t help but arch your back and press your cunt further against Atsumu’s pretty face. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you pant quietly, trying to regain some composure after the waves of pleasure start to roll off you. 

“Oh, Angel, you barely lasted five minutes.” He crawls on top of you, his face shiny from being between your thighs. He kisses you softly on the lips. 

“Who can blame me?” You laugh, taking his face in your hands. You kiss him again, closing your eyes and feeling the exhaustion taking over your body. “I doubt you’ll last much longer.” 

You push him off you, flipping positions. 

You pray he cums quickly as you pull his pants down his thighs. Not for any normal reasons but you’re not sure you can stay awake much longer. The eager look on his face suggests you might not have to.

#🍃.writing #atsumu miya smut #atsumu miya x reader #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu smut #hq smut

[jmdbjk]

Episode 7: Still Purple

Beyond the Star, produced by HYBE Media Studio

"Every single one of our performances was significant to us, they are all precious memories." – Jimin

The song Butterfly starts and I know this episode is going to be hard to watch because I'm already tearing up.

This is a long post. Apologies. There's a lot to say about it.

They are talking about what concert memories mean the most to them:

Hobi says it was their first stadium concert at the Rose Bowl which was the most significant memory for him as far as which concert was the most memorable.

Jungkook says it was Chicago when it was the first time they'd ever performed in the rain:

Jin says it's when they perform IDOL that is his favorite concert memory.

Jimin says even though fans would see what he's talking about through photos but in real life, what they see from the stage is so beautiful, words can't do justice to describe it:

They reminisce about their concert at the Olympic Gymnastic Arena and recalling the emotions they felt then, that they had reached the top in 2016 are a very precious memory to them

Concerts are what they were made to do. Their type of performance, the big choreography, the big songs... big performances... belong on the live concert stage.

And now we're at the series of concerts that were to be their last before they really embark on Chapter 2: PTD Las Vegas.

BigHit/Hybe pulled out the stops for this one. The city of Las Vegas was all in and being the party city it is, it was one of the most fun and extravagant things I've ever witnessed.

I 1000% regret not going. I didn't know it was going to be the last chance for a long time.

They get to do things like attend a few concerts and visit the Bellagio Fountain when the fountains of water are set to the rhythm of Dynamite and Butter. I know Hobi has a video of Jungkook and Tae vibing to Dynamite at the Bellagio Fountain on his camera roll! Show it to us Hobi!!

Jimin, Yoongi and Namjoon went to the Silk Sonic concert.

I think it's curious that they do not mention the 2022 Grammy performance or event at all. When they left Seoul for this trip on March 28, 2022, Hobi was not with them because he had tested positive for covid prior to departure. Jungkook wasn't with them because he'd left the day before for the purpose of a work schedule but I don't remember what it was, and upon landing in the U.S. he tested positive for covid and had to quarantine until he had a negative test.

They were to perform at the Grammy Awards show on April 3, 2022. They were missing two members up until the day before the performance. Thankfully Hobi tested negative in time to catch a plane to Las Vegas:

Jungkook tested negative the day before the performance and was able to practice ONCE with the group. Here he is doing a Vlive while quarantining in his hotel room:

And after all that, they gave a performance of a lifetime during the Grammy Awards:

Anyway... I digress... just curious they make no mention of it at all...

Jungkook brought his boxing coach (Coach Tommy) and this might be the workout he was doing prior to joining Hobi, Tae and Jimin for that Vlive following one of their concerts.

Jungkook says the only thing he regrets about the previous 10 years was that it took him a while to realize certain things and then put them into practice.

Namjoon wonders what it would've been like had they ended things after ON and Yoongi reflects that they would've taken a break from November 2020, if the pandemic had not happened and they would've been on a break for about two and half years (for enlistment). They didn't expect the pandemic to go on for so long (none of us did).

Namjoon wonders if he stayed true to the lyrics he wrote in ON while living his life. He thought they were running straight ahead all this time but as it turns out, they had gone in a circle and were back at the starting line. He contemplates what to do to run forward again.

The last PTD Las Vegas concert is bittersweet for all of us. So much has happened to culminate with this.

Tae says it's time for them to organize their thoughts so they can come back with a better image and performance and they aren't saying they are done, they are saying they've worked hard and now they need the time to grow.

And then we see Jimin in the car, on the way home after their last PTD Seoul concert on March 13, 2020. He is on the phone inviting someone over. Guess who?

It looks like he's taken a shower. He shows us a pot of fish cake soup his dad made for him. Jimin prepares three place settings, fetches 3 bottles of soju, and pardon me but the fact Jimin has a can of spray cheez in his auxiliary kitchen changes everything for me.

Why is he consuming that and why does he store it above the kitchen sink in is extra kitchen? Why do these expensive apartments have two kitchens? Jimin barely needs one kitchen but he has two...

Anyway, Jungkook arrives and they proceed to eat and drink.

While they are having a conversation about what time they go to bed and wake up, Jimin says he might sleep until 4 pm and then this ensues:

When Jungkook makes the remark that he sounds like Yoongi, off-camera, you can hear someone stifling their wheezing laugh. Staff camera man is in on the joke and the documentary editors are too as they cut briefly to Yoongi eating take out chicken.

The editors were wrong for that! HAHAHAHAH!

Then Tae and Namjoon talk about and show us their living spaces and how they feel living on their own.

Namjoon is very particular about his space and he says its very precious to him. He says the way one curates their living space speaks a lot about their personality and taste. I agree 100%. He says he wants to show us his space so we can know what kind of person he is.

Tae says he decorated his own space, commissioning art pieces for it. He has an extensive collection of vinyl records and puts on a yellow vinyl disc that appears to be Betty Wright, a recording of a live performance. He says boredom can be a given when living alone and he says he looks for Small but Definite Happiness in his daily life. SDH. We should all strive to do that.

Then we're back at Jimin's and Jungkook is cooking more food, chopping vegetables. FYI, that Miele induction cooktop is about $3,500.

Watching Jimin retell the story of when one of his friends pointed out that he seemed depressed, was not himself, was one of the most revealing things we've ever heard from Jimin.

And now he feels he's in a very healthy place. I'm gonna elaborate on this in another blog post when I'm done with this series.

All in all, the members had to learn to live alone after living together for 8 years or more for some of them.

Yoongi reflects on running so hard in their 20s. He wonders if they shouldn't have enjoyed themselves more and not let the pressures become overwhelming. Regardless, now that he's reached 30, all those worries and thoughts have disappeared and he feels liberated.

I've realized some of these interviews for these episodes were conducted on the day they traveled from Seoul to Las Vegas because they are wearing the same clothing.

Episode 8 coming soon... and more.

#bts beyond the star #jimin #jungkook #yoongi #namjoon #hobi #jin #taehyung