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#i believe your next shot will score
bnpd · 23 days
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❝ LONG SHOT ! ❞ ; 001
❝ PROFESSIONAL BASKETBALL PLAYER!GOJO SATORU X PHYSICAL THERAPIST!READER. ❞
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SYNOPSIS: After an unexpected encounter with the infamous Gojo Satoru at a local convenience store at 3 A.M. You're given the opportunity to worm your way into his life, but not without a personal invitation from Gojo himself. One thing leads to another, and you're the first person they call when he gets a career-threatening injury, forcing both of you to spend day and night together, but without some obstacles of course: your cousin.
WORD COUNT : 8K SERIES MASTERLIST : ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .
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PT. 1 : PT. 2
Your days start off simple. Wake up at 5 am. Shower at 5:05. Get ready at 5:30. Breakfast at 6:30am. Leave your cozy city apartment at 7:00 am –sharp– to make it to work. 
“Good morning Miwa,” you greet politely, walking past her desk and she scrambles to gather her clipboard. Hot on your tail, she frantically looks over her notes. “What do you have for me today?” You ask.
“Doctor, your first consultation of the day is waiting for you in your office! And your regular patient called to let you know that those exercises you suggested are working wonders!” You nod and hum occasionally to inform her that you’re listening as you maneuver through the rest of the doctors, stopping momentarily to encourage a patient lifting weights. She speaks quickly. “And Doctor Shoko called to ask if you’ll be going to…” she pauses and you figure she’s looking at her notes again. “The basketball game,” and she's quick to add “ —the Jujutsu Sorcerers are playing tomorrow night.” 
You stop abruptly outside of your office door, feeling Miwa lightly bump into your back before she mutters a swift apology. You turn around, raising a questioning eyebrow. “She called about that? Tell her I’m bus-”. Miwa’s quick to intercept. “She insists! Plus, I thought you loved the Jujutsu Sorcerers?”
You think it over.
You did like them. No. They were your absolute favorite basketball team. Besides, you could never turn down a basketball game. 
“Fine. I’ll see her tomorrow night. Thank you Miwa.”
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“We have just minutes to go here in the fourth quarter of the season opener at the Sorcerer Stadium. The Jujutsu Sorcerers are up by ten over the Special Grades, thanks much to the tremendous effort of the star point guard, Gojo Satoru.” 
Inside the stadium is loud, as fans cheer on their favorite teams. It’s a full game tonight. A completely sold out stadium with all the people that showed up to praise their favorite players. The energy is loud, and fun. As people stand, and others sit in their seats in a stressful manner—mostly the losing team. 
The two kids behind you wear matching Jujutsu Sorcerers jerseys. One boy is sporting a 01 while the other sports a 02. One for the infamous Gojo Satoru and the other for Geto Suguru. You’re happy to admit that you too are sporting a number 01 jersey.
“Gojo Satoru, one of the best point guards in the league. Living up to his reputation and title of the ‘Chosen One’, tonight.” You listen, and watch intently as the announcers speak of Gojo. As he dribbles left, dodging every player in his way, bypassing their attempts to stop him. He’s unstoppable. 
“He looks inside. And he’s got nothing there.” The announcer anticipates. The crowd stands up from their seats eager to watch his next move. Their anticipation is intense as everyone in the stadium witnesses the Gojo Satoru work up close.
“He’s gonna take it himself!” The announcer exclaimed in disbelief, he himself could not believe this. “Behind the back! He puts it up, and it's good” The entire stadium puts their hands up to cheer, and scream. You see a mix of colors in the crowd, mostly a light blue in support of the Jujutsu Sorcerers. 
You tune out the announcers as Gojo Satoru is celebrating his team's score. He’s sweating so much his jersey sticks to his chest and stomach. You can faintly make out the outline of his abs. His muscles flex as he lifts his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his forehead, his abs on full display. You grin at how hot he is. Anyone with eyes can see it. You swear you hear the girls cheer louder at the display of skin. Even if you were still here for the game, you were still a woman after all. 
“You’re drooling.” Shoko points out beside you, and you almost reach your hand towards your mouth to check before you playfully narrow your eyes at her. “Please,” you say dismissively, “What’s the correct way to react to a court full of sweaty hot guys? Watch the game?”. 
Her eyes roll dramatically before sporting a playful grin, and you bump your shoulder against hers to bring out a full smile from her. You succeed. 
Shoko continues to cheer on the team. This is the most excited you’ve seen her since she found a remaining cigarette in her car after she’d just ran out. You were so distracted by the cigarette addict beside you that you almost missed the foul they gave the other team as Gojo Satoru stands on the free throw line. 
“Gojo Satoru shot 95% from the freethrow line last season, but he’s been 100% tonight.” The announcers go back to bickering about the game, praising Gojo’s in-game scores. “Let’s see if he stays on his hot streak tonight, and for the rest of the season–”. 
Gojo dribbles the ball, and the stadium remains silent. The tension thick in the air as they hold their breath–even you, who leans forward in anticipation. He locks his knees, and shoots straight into the basketball hoop. The ball never even touches the rim. He makes both shots. Gojo smirks cockily as he slaps Geto’s hand twice in celebration. 
“-And he’s done it! It’s 12 in a row, for Gojo Satoru. Geto Suguru–number two–has 10 tonight. Quite a duo on the court. I would say.” 
Shoko and you cheer on the team as they celebrate the win themselves. The kids behind you scream so loud your eardrums almost pop, but you can’t find it in yourself to mind.
The energy in the stadium tonight reminds you of why you loved going to basketball games in the first place. The excitement in the court, and in the entire stadium is something no one can miss. 
The kids behind you are so excited that it spreads to you, and you jump up to celebrate with them. Their toothy smiles are so big and bright. They warm your heart. The moment is quickly ruined by the woman sitting on the other side of you, opposite Shoko. 
“Look at that!” Your cousin harshly tugs your arm, pulling you down to reach her seat. “The player’s wives section. Full of snobby bitches.” Her fingers frantically shake to dramatize how much she wants you to see. “I’m looking.” You reply exasperated before rolling your eyes. “She has a custom Birkin! Do you have any idea how expensive that is?” She asks, and you reply with a muttered response “A house mortgage loan, I assume.”
Your cousin was—to put it shortly–spoiled, but you respected her views on someday marrying a rich man. The only problem with that is that she even uses the good ones.
She was a model. Not a well known one, but a model nonetheless. She was gorgeous, and everyone knew it. Even the men you dated. Most of them had gone as far to tell you. But you never let it deter your self-esteem. Men are a defective species and that has nothing to do with you. You choose to push that thought aside before it can develop into a mental breakdown in the middle of a basketball game. 
The children screaming behind you interrupt it before it can. “Look, look!” The kids behind you frantically poke at you to look. 
“He just made a three-pointer,” the boy lisps a little, and you swear you feel the saliva hit your face.
More than half of the game is just Gojo Satoru stealing the ball, and making countless scores. 
You look up at the clock and see the time as it read ten seconds on the board. 
“Gojo Satoru again with the ball!” You watch as he steals the ball and dribbles all the way across the court. Five seconds on the clock. He jumps up, and slams the ball directly into the basketball net with both hands still hanging onto the rim. “Anddd Number 1… brings the game home!” And the final buzzer rings across the court, calling the game. Zero seconds on the board. 
The announcer makes one last comment, “Unbelievable performance by Gojo Satoru.” 
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Gojo is instantly swarmed with reporters in hopes of getting a word with him. But he’s fine with this. He loves the attention. He loves it when all eyes are on him. He thinks it’s how it should always be. A cocky man at heart. 
“Tremendous game tonight Gojo Satoru.” The reporter speaks, and she’s too close for any regular reporter, and Gojo catches onto it quickly. “Thank you, thank you.” He responds in an airy flirty tone. 
He scans the stands, and his eyes catch onto a woman helping two kids from their seats—they wear the number of his jersey, and Getos. His eyebrows furrow, and he tunes out the reporter subconsciously. The mysterious woman laughs at something her friend says—and his eyebrows lift up in surprise at the recognition of his friend, Shoko.
“Almost a decade with the Jujutsu Sorcerers, the only franchise you’ve ever played for…” a male reporter takes a lead on his attention as Gojo turns his head over to talk to the male reporter. He smiles into the camera, a radiant smile. 
A player from the opposing team passes Gojo before patting his back, and cheers at him for the good game. 
“...But you’re a free agent at the end of the season. The question everyone wants to know… will Gojo Satoru re-sign with the Jujutsu Sorcerers?” he asks as he shifts the microphone from side to side at the question, urging Gojo to answer. The reporters surrounding him, too, lean closer into him. 
Gojo licks his lips before responding. His chest breathing erratically from the previous game, “I prove myself night in and night out on that court. I’m the best in the league right now. Of course they’ll sign me. I’m the best.”
He winks at the female reporter after his proud admission as her face turns bright red at the display of flirtation. She lowers the microphone to say something to him personally before his manager comes disrupting the flirty exchange and drags him away from the reporters as their distant shouts begin to fade, entering the locker room.  
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You’re exiting the stadium before one of your cousin’s friends invites herself into the conversations. Completely interrupting your rant about how horrible the injury a recent basketball player received. 
“Girl, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” You turn around at the sound of the high-pitched voice, and see a woman dressed in all black, some large classy sunglasses, and a dark cherry red lipstick. Her aura emitted elegance, and high-class. 
“Hey,” she greets you in a monotone voice before turning over to your cousin again and her excitement seems to be shot back into her system as she begins to ramble to your cousin. Your head tilts at her attitude. Disbelief is clear on your face.“It is so packed in here, it is so gross.” She comments with an undeniable hint of disgust in her voice as she clutches her mini purse closer to her. 
“But anyway!” she dismisses, “Gojo Satoru… is having a birthday party Saturday night at his house, but we don’t have the tickets yet, sooooo we’re going to an after party tonight, and see if we can worm ourselves into getting some tickets.” She picks at her nails before grabbing your cousin's hands to shake them in an urging manner. She takes her glasses off to show her a pleading look. 
Your cousin lifts her eyebrow in question, “Where’s the after party?”
“The Shibuya Hotel.” Your cousin thinks it over before nodding, turning over to you. “You don’t mind do you?” 
You smile at her, “No, not at all. Do your thing.” 
“K-K, bye!” Her long slender fingers moving back and forth in a quick and dismissive goodbye. 
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The bells above the door jingle to announce the presence of someone entering the convenience store. The sudden sound of them has you looking up. 
After the game ended you went home and locked yourself up to finish some remaining paperwork, before checking the time and deciding to grab a snack at your favorite corner store. 
You glance up at the clock in wonder. It’s currently 3 a.m, and the convenience store tucked into the sketchy corner of the city is always empty. It’s quite a walk from here to your apartment, but a welcomed one. Especially at this time. You always found yourself making late night trips to the store for a midnight snack. They were just something you found quite peaceful. A walk in the dark as you play your favorite playlist, finding a chance to lose yourself in your own head. 
You were close to the owner, an old sweet man that conjured a liking to you because of how much you resembled his daughter that was currently deployed overseas. 
You spare a glance at the hooded figure that steps into the store, their back turned to you, but you note how tall they are. A shiver runs down your spine as the opened door allows cold air to rush into the tight space.
You’re not sure if the shiver was a cause of the gust of wind that slithered its way inside or the new presence of the looming figure. You don't like to ponder on the possibility that it might be the latter.
You continue to browse through the mochi flavors, looking for your beloved one. It’s unusual for them to be unstocked around this time, considering how cold the weather is. And how empty this side of town finds itself to be. You sigh as you bend down to get a better look. 
You feel a presence behind you, and you stiffen at their closeness. A masculine, slender hand, comes into view, as it reaches for the exact flavor of mochi you so happened to be reaching for as well. You both freeze at the sudden, and unexpected contact before both releasing a nervous laugh. 
But neither of you find it in yourselves to retract your hands. You clear your throat before speaking. 
“Listen…It’s been a rough night,” You start, and turn to face him, but pause mid sentence at the look of what he’s wearing. A black face mask, a black hoodie with the hood of it over his head, and some sunglasses?…At night…and indoors? Not only that, but the man in question was insanely tall. Taller than any regular man you’ve encountered. He had the height of a basketball player. 
“Never mind,” You suddenly find yourself not in the mood to argue with a suspicious stranger at 3 a.m. in a sketchy part of town.
Your mother always taught you that as a woman being careful with who you piss off, especially a man that could bring you harm, was important. You wish you had the confidence to defend yourself physically, but you’d rather never have to take those chances. That was the reality of it. 
“You can keep it.” You mutter before gathering your things, and speeding over to the cash register. You watch him scan your items, but you can’t shake off the feeling of two eyes burning holes in your back throughout the whole ordeal.
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You pull your scarf tighter against your neck as you speed walk in the direction of your apartment. The cold of the fall and lack of sun always make your entire body quiver. You thank your past self for wearing thick layers of clothing, knowing you wouldn’t be able to handle the freezing weather. 
You never could handle the cold.
Your senses heightened when you heard steps approaching behind you, quickly at that. 
You clench your first in your coat jacket, readying yourself for anything. The steps get closer, and you wait until you feel their presence closely behind you before swinging around, surprising him with a amateaur punch. “Ow!” the stranger winces. “What the fuck!” He chokes out in surprise, holding his face in shock.
You bring your hands up to your mouth in a gasp. “Oh- My-God!” A frantic apology is quick to escape your lips. “Why would you do that?!” You question the stranger exasperatedly. “Don’t–sneak up on a woman like that!” Your hands move around to signal the obvious, it’s dark. 
“Well, fuck!” He responds, “I was just trying to give you the mochi,” His hand extends to reveal the truth. A mochi sits in his grasp—not just any mochi—the one you abandoned back in the store for the sake of it. He chased after you to give it to you. 
Your body deflates at the realization, and it makes you feel a tiny bit sorry. Not for long when you realize he's most certainly at fault. He should’ve known not to approach a girl in the dead of night.
A few feet of distance separates you both, but you can’t help but release a tiny embarrassed laugh at the comedic situation. Your contagious laugh seems to transfer to him because he releases a small huff of amusement under his breath.
You’re both standing under a streetlamp a few feet away from the convenience store, in a defense mode. The stranger in front of you still holds onto his face in an attempt to relieve the pain. 
The physical therapist in you kicks in, and you step closer towards him to inspect the damage. He’s reluctant to let you approach him, tensing is evident in the way his shoulders square up. But you reassure him. “It’s okay,” you softly comfort, “I’m a physical therapist, I just want to see that it won’t bruise or anything.” 
Your words seem to help because his guarded shoulders deflate a little.
“Let me see,” you murmur into the dark, reaching over to remove his hand. He watches you intently through his glasses, and you realize he’s wearing a lot to protect his face. You take the time to study his remote way of dressing. His attempt to hide himself, you reason within yourself. His hair is covered by a black hood, paired with a black beanie, a black face mask that covers his lips and nose, a light blue sweatshirt that brings some color, some gray sweats that cover the entirety of his long legs, and a black puffer jacket to help keep the cold out. He looks warm, yet cold at the same time. 
You wonder why he’s deliberately trying to hide who–or what—he is. 
You find out soon enough because when you peel off his hand, and later his face mask to get a better look at his cheek you blurt out the first thing that crosses your mouth. 
“You’re Gojo Satoru.” It’s spoken in a whisper, he almost doesn’t hear the acknowledgement with how soft your voice travels. Your eyes are wide with surprise, and a bit of elation. It felt like a caress, he notes.
A choked gasp almost leaves your lips when you take off his sunglasses and find the most unreal set of blue eyes stare back at you.
“The one, and only.” His response doesn’t come out as confident as he planned. Instead it came off shaky, and unsure. Breathless even. He blames it on the look on your face, and the way you stare intently into his eyes, seeing straight through him. His lips crack into a smile, and the amused look in your eye caused by his cheesy line.
“You sound more confident on TV.” You retaliate. He’s quick with a witty response, “Maybe you just make me nervous.” He wets his lips with a swipe of his tongue, taking you in. You’re illuminated by the streetlamp.
You laugh at his stupid attempt to flirt with you, playfully dismissing his advances. 
Bringing your focus back to his cheek you inspect it before speaking, “It won’t bruise,” He looks like he’s ready to speak up but you interrupt him by finishing your sentence, “But—you’ll still need to ice it. At least for tonight.”
Of course it wouldn’t bruise, you’ve never taken any lessons on how to properly hit—let alone land a punch. You punched him in hopes of catching him off guard before he could surprise you, giving you the chance to run for the hills, not because you knew you’d be able to take a stranger in a fight. 
When your fight or flight response kicked in, you didn’t even ponder the possibility of punching a professional athlete, let alone a professional basketball player. One that played for your favorite team. Quite frankly you were starstruck, and the fangirl in you was having an entire party. The Gojo Satoru was here. Right in front of you. He was even more gorgeous up close—taller too.
The cameras did indeed do him justice, but nothing ever compares to the real thing. His bright blue eyes, and snow-white lashes were straight out of a magical fairytale. As much as you’d like to jump up and down, and then hug him, you knew you had to contain yourself. Otherwise you would scare him away. Or he would feel too uncomfortable to engage in casual conversation with a crazy fan.
But you were more of a basketball fan than solely a Gojo Satoru fan, and that fact alone was keeping you at bay. Your early childhood years of having a basketball coach father always kept you engaged in basketball in general. 
After going back inside the convenience store to grab some ice from the ice machine—with Gojo trailing closely behind you—you both now sat on the edge of the sidewalk right in front of the convenience store, talking amongst one another about nothing in particular. The only source of lighting being the lit up convenience store, and the streetlamp hovering over your seater figures. 
Gojo sits beside you with a hand holding the ice pack to his face, while another is used to reach into the bag of mochi to grab some more. But your mind can’t seem to ignore how close you two sit against one another, your thighs are almost touching from your close proximity. 
“Thank you.” Gojo’s hushed voice cuts through the silly conversational atmosphere, and turns into a semi-serious one.
A tiny toothless smile spreads across your face, “You can thank me, by winning the championships.” Your knee knocks into his in an attempt to bring back the playful mood, and he takes it gratefully. He responds eagerly by knocking his knee against yours in response. His touch shoots a tingle up your spine.
Your smile must be contagious because the cutest lopsided smile makes an appearance on Gojo’s face, “Oh, so you’re really a die-hard fan?” He teases.
“Ever since I was a little girl.”
“How so?” He asks, his eyes never leaving your face as his hands reach into the bag of mochi to munch on.
“Well,” You think about your next words as you gesture for Gojo to move the bag of mochi closer so that you can grab a piece, “My dad was a college basketball coach—still is—and all through elementary to middle school I would often sit on the side of practices and watch them play. So I kind of developed an interest in watching the sport. I find it nostalgic—in a way. My dad and I just bond over it.”
You mention how you were looking to become a professional NBA physical therapist. It had been your dream ever since you were a little girl. And it still is. Though you’re a current sports physical therapist— the best in your field—you want more.
He’s silent as he reflects on your response. You take this as your chance to bite into your mochi, humming contently at the yummy taste. The chewy texture is satisfying against your tongue, its sweetness seeping into your mood. 
“That’s cool,” he replies after a moment of silence. “I grew up watching—and playing—basketball too.” He pauses, and you patiently wait as he collects his thoughts.
“But mostly because our family has been professional basketball players for generations, and I just kind of fell into that.” 
You nod your head in understanding. You wonder if he’s playing because he genuinely likes the game or because it’s expected of him to continue the tradition. The legacy.
You knew about the Gojo family being generational professional basketball players. Every single one of them have played for the Jujutsu Sorcerers, and because of them they’ve always been an outstanding basketball team. Some consider them to be reincarnations of each other, but that’s just silly internet theories. 
There’s numerous articles about the Gojo family, a lot of them highlighting the way they dominate almost every industry. Their wealth, and worldwide superiority is insanely known. It went beyond just Gojo’s direct family playing professional basketball, their entire family tree is gifted with various qualities. 
You can’t imagine the burden he must carry. 
One thing is certain and it’s that you’re genuinely delighted in his presence. You realize he’s silent before looking over at him, and you frown at the unreadable look on his face. “What’s wrong?” You probe.
His gorgeous bright blue eyes look all over your face in an analytical kind of way, before a ghost smile grazes his features. “Nothing,” he says softly, his eyes staring softly at you, “Nothing at all.” He turns back to bite into his mochi, chewing on it before contently humming to himself. 
A familiar tune, you realize, and you gasp before hitting his arm, “Is that the Digimon tune?” His eyes twinkle in surprise, and something like eagerness—before he takes off into another excited rant. Telling you about his favorite digital pet model toy he used to own as a kid, and how he still has a collection of them at home. He tells you about how he wishes to find a rare one. His descriptions are so animated, and you can’t help but stare fondly at his features. 
Though you weren’t a huge digimon fan, you don’t bother telling him in fear of breaking through his elation.
How the corner of his lips turns up in excitement or how his hands are used to animatedly demonstrate what he is trying to portray. Often used to wave them around. Your favorite feature would have to be his eyes, and the way they sparkle when he talks about something he's passionate about. Even in the darkness his ice cold blue eyes find a way to look so warm.
You like the bubble you’ve both created for yourselves. Time feels unimportant, and worries feel so far away. 
After his rant you fall back into a comfortable silence. The ambience around you does a good job at filling the silence. The crickets hidden in the grass sing as the wind blows, swaying the trees. The moon lightens up the world to the best of her ability. But the city is alive, it always is. New York never sleeps, even at night. It’s probably the time it’s most awake.
Gojo breaks the comfortable silence,“What are you doing Saturday night?” 
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You make it back at 7 a.m., (with the help of Gojo driving you home), and thank the gods that you didn’t have work today. Shoko would’ve pestered you about your late-night whereabouts. 
You’re welcomed by the sight of your cousin sitting on the floor by the coffee table surrounded by numerous magazines scattered around the living room. Her concentration prompts you to raise a skeptical eyebrow. 
Cautiously walking into her space to not cause a disturbance, you ask her why she has a mess in your living room. 
“I’m researching.” What could she possibly be researching in a magazine?
She notices your confused silence, and heavily sighs before putting her pen down. “I’m trying to figure out how to marry a professional athlete so that I can leech off him, and live a happy–rich–life. A girl doesn’t just become the wife of a NBA franchise player by accident.” She takes a moment to apply lip gloss before continuing. 
“It takes strategy, good intel, and vision.” She finishes off before grabbing the poster board sitting next to her, showing you a pin board with various different basketball players. Thankfully, a certain bright blue eyed player is absent. 
Next to each of their pictures is their name, age, birthday, interests, basketball team, and other miscellaneous facts. Her entire pin-board looks like an FBI investigation wall.
“Modeling only pays so much. Especially as a model who isn’t a Super-model.” An exasperated breath leaves her lips as if she was exhausted from just explaining the obvious to you.
“I mean look at this!” She says, frantically showing you the magazine. You lean over to get a better look as you read the title. 
‘PROFESSIONAL ATHLETE, NANAMI KENTO’S WIFE STARTS BRAND NEW BAKING TELEVISION SHOW.’
 “These women get fragrance deals, shoe lines, clothing lines, like; Oh.My.God! Even shows!” Each admission becomes more passionate than the last. As she continues to rant to you. “I’m almost 30. I need to start thinking for myself, and my future. Like, now. I’ll find a man, and use him.” 
You laugh at her crazy talk, you start putting fingers down as you list her current struggles, “You’re crashing in my guestroom.” One finger down. “Your BMW got repossessed because you stopped making payments.” Two fingers down. “You haven’t been able to hold a steady job.” Three fingers down. “And you don’t even help clean the house.” Four fingers down.
You wave them in front of her face to try and get your point across. “Look, I’m all for you finding a rich man in the future, and living off of him—that’s fine. But for now, at least help around the house when you can. I work lots of shifts at the clinic, the least you could do is help at home—” 
“Especially since you don’t help me pay any bills.” She’s ready to protest, and cut you off. You make sure you get the last word in. “I don’t care because I get paid enough to cover this nice apartment in the middle of the city. Just, take some stress off my shoulders.” You smile kindly at her.
She lets out a huff of annoyance before turning back to her magazines, and ignoring you. A tired sigh escapes your lips. Her gloomy mood makes you feel pitiful, but thankfully you remember what Gojo said to you that night. 
“Besides, how are you gonna get an NBA husband, if you…” You grab your phone, and tap on the screen before showing her the details for Gojo Satoru’s Saturday birthday party, “Don’t go to the gatherings?” 
Her eyes grow wide with excitement, and she jumps up to hug you. “How did you do that?” She questions in disbelief, as she grabs your phone to see the tickets. “Well, I bumped into him in the street, and one thing led to another so he invited me.” 
She squeals before hugging you again. “I need to figure out what I need to wear. No—I need to figure out what I need to buy to wear.” She runs to your guest room in excitement, muttering to herself as she begins to move further and further away from you. The door slammed shut as an indication that you’re now alone in the living room.
You choose to keep the details hidden of how exactly you met Gojo because of how personal they felt. It felt like something sacred that should be kept between Gojo and you. You didn’t want to let anyone inside your little bubble. As selfish as that sounded. 
What happened earlier this morning felt so refreshing. You softly smile to yourself before walking to your room to rest your eyes before the party. 
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Your mom has always believed in destiny. That the universe worked in mysterious ways. She liked the idea that everything was meant to be. People were at a certain place, and time for a reason. Even if you lose something—whatever it may be— the first time, it’ll always come back someway, somehow. 
You believe it now as she enters your old adolescent room before you, holding a box in her hands. You had decided to get ready at your parents house because of how convenient it would be, considering how Gojo’s house is closer to your parent’s house compared to yours. 
“You are going to find a husband tonight.” Your mother laughs. You playfully roll your eyes at her admission. “Mom… don’t start.” You half-heartedly warn before she goes off her lovesick rant, placing the box on the table next to you. 
“Honey, I married your father, and he still can’t believe his luck. I mean I understand, I am beautiful, and so is my gorgeous daughter—”
“—and niece!” Your cousin adds before going back to the mirror, touching up her eyelashes. 
Your mother and you sweetly laugh before continuing, “I mean, when I first met him, it was like love at first sight.” You can’t help the frown that overtakes your features at her admission, a certain white-haired blue eyed man coming to mind.
“Anyway,” Your mother says before waving dismissively, “I have a surprise.” She smiles, before opening the box she had brought with her. You gasp as she pulls out the most gorgeous set of earrings you’ve ever laid eyes on. “Are those…?” You trail off in question. 
“Your grandmother’s diamond earrings.” Your mother confirms before gazing softly at them. “She wore them the night she met your grandfather, and I wore them the night I met your father. And now I want you to wear them.” She tells you. 
“They’re beautiful!” Your cousin compliments, quickly picking herself up from her seat and making her way over. “They are more than beautiful,” Your mother responds in agreement.
“I don’t think those will suit her Auntie, but they will suit me!” You glare at your cousin. Your mom smiles at your cousin before handing them to her. A look of betrayal paints your face. “Then I think you should wear them.” 
Your heart drops at the admission, and before you could protest. The earrings are already on her before you could blink. “What do you think?” She asks you. Ugly. You think. 
“I think I need a shot.” You mutter. 
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“Oh my god.” Your cousin says in amazement. “This is beautiful.”
You can’t help but silently agree with her. Gojo’s house was beyond gorgeous. The house was elegant, simplistic, yet lived in. It was decorated enough to uplift the house, rather than outshine it. 
You walk through the main entrance, and see a lot of faces you’d usually see on TV, magazines, and billboard signs. Lots of Gojo’s teammates scatter among the crowd. They’re easy to spot considering their height. 
The music is played to a low volume. The atmosphere emits one of class, tranquility yet fun, and livelihood. People chatter away, immersed in their own worlds, without a care in the world. You suppose that people who have the privilege to attend a Gojo gathering can afford to live without a care in the world. 
As you enter the main living room, you hear a voice command the room. Perfecting timing. 
“I’d like to make a special toast, for a special birthday boy.” Geto grins, lifting his drink to cheer, before grabbing Gojo by the neck and continuing with what you suspect is a birthday speech. As if on queue the people begin to gather around Geto and Gojo.
“I’m sure you’ve all heard this before,” Geto pauses before continuing, “that when some people become rich and famous they turn into pricks…” He looks back at Gojo, “But Satoru’s always been a rich and famous asshole, so it doesn’t apply to him.” He laughs before receiving a shove from Gojo as they share a hearty laugh together. 
“Point is, he’s still the same guy from high school…minus the stickman legs, and high-pitched voice.” The crowd joins in on Geto’s laughter, “To my one and only best friend, happy birthday.” The crowd cheers, and a chorus of ‘Happy Birthday!' ring throughout the room. “Thank you Suguru.” You watch as Gojo and Geto prepare themselves to do a load of shots. As the music begins to pick up again, and the crowd disperses. 
Your cousin taps your shoulder, and you look over at her, “I’m gonna go explore okay?” 
“Oh! O–” You turn around to find her already gone, “--Kay.”
You find your way to the bar, as you sweetly greet the bartender. “Can I have a glass of champagne?”
You’re waiting patiently against the bar when you feel a tap on your shoulder, and a look of surprise crosses your features at the sight of Gojo’s beaming smile. “You made it.” He says happily, eyeing you with a dopey smile. 
“Happy birthday!” You tell him, and his hand rests beside your waist against the bar, slightly caging you in. “I got you a card!” You say, reaching into your handbag for the Digimon themed birthday card, and a breathy chuckle leaves Gojo’s lips at the sight of it. 
His eyes twinkle when he looks back up at you, “Aw, come on,” He says before continuing with a fake pout, “No surprise punch?” 
You laugh at his lame teasing, but play along with him anyway. “Maybe next time, if you decide to run up behind me in the middle of the night, I’ll give you two.” His lips set on a teasing yet flirty smile, raising a questioning eyebrow, “Next time? With the way you look tonight, there will definitely be a next time—”
“Oh god!” A frantic voice interrupts you both, and you’re not surprised to find out the culprit is your cousin. Although you’re happy that she found you again, currently her presence is an unwelcome one. Her hand rests on your shoulder as she looks into your eyes. Your annoyance is quickly replaced with worry as it immediately overtakes your features. “There you are! I am so sorry, but I need to leave.” Your cousin says. 
“What? Why? Is everything okay?” You ask, quickly scanning her for any physical injuries. “Everything is okay! It’s just that I got a call from the non-profit I was working with, and they need me to come in immediately.”
Non-profit? Working with?
“What? You don’t–”, She gives you a look that causes a realization to wash over you. She’s lying to make a good impression. With a roll of your eyes, you clear your throat to look back at Gojo but find that he is already fixated on something. Or more like someone. 
Your cousin. The look on his face causes a sinking feeling to settle in your stomach. “Hey.” He says. 
“Gojo, this is my cousin.” You tell him her name before continuing, “We grew up together.” 
Your cousin barely glances at Gojo before realization dawns on her about who he is, and a flirty smile graces her features. “Oh, hi. Nice to meet you.” She says, before slipping back into a false indifference. Gojo’s eyes never leave her figure, but your cousin has a game to play, and it’s her favorite one. Unfortunately for Gojo, he’s playing right into it. 
“One of the volunteers at the homeless shelter I help out at, just called in sick. So I need to go.” She begins to walk away, but Gojo stops her before she can. “You know, I volunteer too.”
“That’s cool," she says before turning to you and perking up again, “I have to stop by the store to buy some games for the kids, okay?” You couldn’t believe her. Her head tilted to one side while listening to him, a hidden sheen of interest coated her eyes. 
You think you might have to kill yourself after this.
Gojo’s eyebrows raise once again in a curious manner, “You two…live together?” 
“If by living together, you mean she free-loads, then yeah! We live together.” That earns you a gentle elbow in the stomach. “How can I get in touch with you?” He persists with an unrelenting stare.
“Oh…Gojo…It’s Gojo, right?” You feel your eyes roll involuntarily,” I’m sorry I’ve tried the whole ‘dating an athlete thing, and…it’s not my thing. But it was really nice talking to you.” She turns to you once again, and you swear you see a menacing glint in her eye. “Are you ready?”
To jump off a cliff? Absolutely. 
Your cousin walks away, and anger overtakes your entire body. You turn to look at Gojo, and deflate at how his attention is solely on her, and the way she confidently walks away, catching the eyes of many men. Unaware of the attention you hinder as well.
You feel sick to your stomach. You should’ve asked the bartender for a round of shots.
Gojo’s friends watch as you walk away with interest in their eyes. “You know, the objective is not to make them leave.” Geto speaks up. Entranced by you. 
But Gojo’s eyes stay focused elsewhere, before looking at Geto, “I think this worked out just great.” He trails off.
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“What the hell was that back there?” You interrogate in a tight voice as soon as you shut the car door. “Oh. Come on.” The tone of her voice has you reeling back. You watch in disbelief as your cousin reapplies her lipstick through your car vanity mirror. She pops her lips before continuing, “Was he looking at me when I walked away?” Her eyes shine with a gleam of deviltry.
A scoff leaves your lips, and you look away from her. “Yes, he was.” Sadly. “You do realize, you don’t work—let alone volunteer—for a homeless shelter, right?” 
“Obviously,” she counters, “But he seemed like the kind to fall for that kind of stuff. So I gave it to him, and it worked. I won’t even need to work a job anymore when I get to live in this big house.” Her hands gesture back to the direction of Gojo’s house before continuing to fix her makeup. 
“You don’t even work a job now.” You emphasize with raised eyebrows, and a tilt in your head. “Besides, you rejected him.”
“Yeah,” your cousin responds in a ‘duh’ tone, “That’s probably the first time that’s ever happened since…forever. Trust me…” She trails off while fixing her hair, “I’ll be hearing from him.”
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And she did. 
The next morning you’re almost leaving your apartment for work when you hear a knock, and find a well dressed Gojo before your eyes. You raise a questioning eyebrow at the sight of his presence. 
He eyes you for a little before clearing his throat. “Is your cousin here?” A hesitant tone overtakes his features, studying you for a reaction. 
Your heart threatens to drop, but you clear your head before it can. “Yeah.” You respond somberly before continuing, “She’s in her room. I’ll go get her.” You turn around to fetch your cousin but pause mid-turn as a sudden question sweeps into your head. You turn to face him once again in clear confusion.
“How did you know I lived here?” You ask skeptically. Gojo grins confidently, a lazy smile gracing his features, “I know people.” 
“That’s reassuring.” You drift away from him after curtly inviting him inside your home, and you watch as he studies your cozy apartment. Zero-ing in on the personal pictures of you you’ve hung up on your bookshelf. A faint hum comes out of him as he studies your pictures intently, memorizing them. 
“Aren’t you nosy.” You quip at him teasingly. He turns to look at you with a playful expression. “Well, I find you interesting.”
“Well not interesting enough,” you say, muttering to yourself. “What was that?”
“Nothing.” You say walking away from him to get your cousin. 
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Everything took off from there. One dinner turned into two, then three, and then more than you could count on two hands. It’s like their love came easy for them, and you could tell by the countless tabloids covering their every move. 
From Gojo’s ravenous yacht dates with your cousin, to endless shopping sprees. Everyday a new magazine feature was released to keep the public updated on their love story. But you didn’t need to read them to know how good they were to one another. You could tell by the way they’d gaze at each other, more on Gojo’s part. 
She’d come home countless times, with something new to share. Whether it was a new expensive necklace Gojo had bought her, or he took her overseas on a spontaneous trip. You sat there and took it. You were helpless, and all you could do was blindly support her. Encourage their relationship. 
And Gojo? He became unstoppable. It was impossible to believe how much better his life got—considering how great it already was. He was amazing on the court, and off the court (so you’ve heard). Your cousin got her wish granted. She could finally sit in the basketball wives section, sporting a new exclusive purse every game. She got the brand deals she always wanted, and a feature on a well known magazine. The paparazzi were so obsessed with them. Oftentimes photographing them on outings, whether it was an exclusive club, or a sweet night out together. 
Headlines often portrayed their relationship as anything short of wonderful. 
“PACKING IT IN: Gojo Satoru ushers his precious girlfriend into his Mercedes after spending an exhaustive day buying up boutique Manhattan.”
“LOOK OUT!: Gojo Satoru and girlfriend share a sweet kiss at a beach in Bora Bora.”
She got everything she ever wanted, and Gojo wasn’t an exception.
At first it felt like you were drowning. Like you couldn’t escape them, but then acceptance began to settle in.
You were aware of your brief interaction with Gojo. Though it felt like more than that, you realize maybe you’d jump the gun too fast. The way you both clicked that night, maybe you’d imagined his interest in you. Maybe you’d wish so badly for it that it twisted your reality of things. You’d wished to have swept him away the way your cousin did. It hurt to see the man you’d ever truly had a faint interest in slowly fall in love with your cousin. They were just so in love. At least, he thought he was.
But it didn’t matter anyway, it’s not like you knew the guy–beyond just a conversation that lasted hours. Vulnerability leaving you both bare to one another. Gojo wasn’t yours. And now he’ll never be. 
You weren’t bitter. No. On the contrary, at first you were upset—granted—, but then you were happy for her. How could you be bitter? You had your own thing going on. It was going to take far more than this to hurt you. Besides, you could just avoid Gojo Satoru, right?
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feel more than welcome to submit a request <3 ᥫ᭡ join my taglist :
TAGLIST : @luvwithau @sugacor3 @seajunie
©2024 bnpd. All rights reserved to the copyrights owner. Do not share, plagiarize, or translate.
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ynbabe · 2 months
Text
We don’t hate each other ୨୧ Arthur x fem! reader
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Y/n was Ollie's oldest friend, growing up with him as he raced his way up to formula one, somewhere in between she found Arthur Leclerc, found him a massive fucking pain in the ass that is until something changes when Ollie debuts in Carlos Sainz Ferrari.
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A always, comments and requests are always welcome! lemme know what y'all think of this!
Warnings: curses, lime
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y/nl/n
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y/nl/n GET THIS MAN IN A FERRARI ASAP 💪 💪 💪 😮‍💨
Username they're relationship is so important to me actually
username arent they just friends?? username girl you believe that? LOOK AT THEM THEY'RE LITERALLY MARRIED username theyre 18 go touch grass pls 😭
username GET THAT MAN IN A FERRARI!!!
Username shes so real for that bow, ollies so cute 🥹
olliebearman thank you for the very serious pictures of me, a very serious, very profession man
y/nl/n "very serious, very professional man"🤓 shut up you literally cried in my arms when you got called olliebearman i'm telling my pr officer to block you username did what in whose arms now?? username oooh so hes in love love
arthurleclerc Way to go Ols!
y/nl/n gtfo my post arthurleclerc gtfo off my fyp y/nl/n block me bitch arthurleclerc too much effort, cry olliebearman guys you're in public 😭
username whats with Arthur and Y/N? 😅
Username they're competing for Ollies love Username bro you wrong for that 😂
arthurleclerc
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arthurleclerc to MY bestfriend, congratulations on making it to Ferrari and f1! You deserve the best! Hope my brother treated you well.
username SHOTS!! HAVE!! BEEN!! FIRED!!
Username he know he wrong for that first photo
Username okay wait. How do both Leclerc have a Wattpad ass gay romance is it genetic??
Username bro all capped the my 😭
username mans petty as hell
username @/y/nl/n me personally, I wouldn't take that
username hes stealing your man girl go get him!!
oliiebearman Thank you Arthur! Yes he did!
arthurleclerc ur welcome ols ❤️ username @/y/nl/n were waiting for you boo username its the red heart for me Username Charles come get your brother!!! he's cosplaying you and max on main again
y/nl/n Congrats Ollie!! love you 🥰 (Not gonna make this abt myself like some other girls)
arthurleclerc revoking ur paddock pass btw 🥰 Olliebearman ... I'm blocking you both 🥰
username mans done with them 😂
You rolled your eyes as you saw Arthur's comment on yours, how could he be so childish. Forget it, you reminded yourself, today is for Ollie and Ollie only.
You waited in Ollie's driver room till he was done with the debrief, you'd go out to celebrate with him and his family later. His trainer had given him a pass on the diet, after all, scoring points in F1 was no joke.
You jumped off the chair you were lounging in, ready to hug the man as you heard the door open but to your disappointment, it was only Arthur.
You groaned as you saw the boy and he scowled in return. You never knew how your rivalry began. One moment you were visiting Ollie for the first time at Prema and the next you were in a screaming match with a Monagasuque man with the cutest accent.
"What are you doing?" He asked, rather, demanded.
"Waiting for my friend," you replied with the same annoyance in your voice, "What are you doing here?" you accused, stepping towards him.
He pulled a face, closing the gap, "Here to support my friend, you know cause we can actually stand each other,"
"Hah, sure, at least I'm not jealous of my friends, you know cause they actually make it into f1," you shrugged, knowing it was a low blow.
His face morphed into anger as he pushed closer towards you, "You need to shut up," he spoke in a low voice, you'd be scared of the taller, much stronger boy if you weren't doused in anger yourself.
"Make me then," why did you say that- Oh shit.
Your eyes widened as he kissed you, making both of you stumble back and fall on Ollie's driver room bed. You groaned as your back hit the mattress, the older boy breaking the kiss, looking down at you in concern.
"O-oh, my god! Y/n I'm so sorry, I don't know wh-" he began rambling but you couldn't let him win, could you? So you kissed him back, letting your hands run through his hair.
He led one hand to your waist, letting it fall under your shirt, he hissed at the warmth your skin radiated under his palms.
"Oh my god, OH MY GOD," Someone yelled, making Arthur push off the bed, and fall on the floor.
"Ollie this isn't what it looks like," he explained from the floor making you frown.
"It isn't?" you asked making him turn to you.
"No, it is," he explained to you, then turned to shocked Ollie in the doorway, "I mean- it is," he tried to explain.
Ollie paused for a moment, "On my bed, really?" he replied, disgust in his voice.
You picked up the pillow on his now messed up bed, throwing it at his head, "Shut up,"
He laughed as he ducked, "Hey, at least none of us had to intervene," he confessed making you and the boy who was now getting up off the floor groan in defeat.
olliebearman
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olliebearman never make out in my room again, I beg you
Y/nl/n sorry I stole your boyfriend, Ols
arthurleclerc you are still the love of my life, y/n's just a friend olliebearman DO NOT START THIS AGAIN
Username HUH?
username chat is this real rn? username fr thought they hated each other username bro said he was going to get his Wattpad enemies to lovers one way or the other
username Charles Leclerc it's your turn now.
charlesleclerc So all the ranting actually led to something?
y/nl/n he talks about me?? arthurleclerc NO I DIDN'T! Charles shut up or I'll tag someone you rant about. Charleslecler y/n changed you i dont like this relationship anymore username WHAT DO YOU MEAN??? Username First we get Arthur x y/n and now we are getting Charles read like filth 😭
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trying something new, thoughts?
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goldsainz · 5 days
Text
❝ THAT’S THAT ME, ESPRESSO ❞
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MASTERLIST!
pairing . . . charles leclerc x reader
◦∘。゚. request . . . “hii !!! i love the new sabrina carpenter song (esspresso) and was wonderimg if you could do a smau with charles x reader based off it !!”
◦∘。゚. summary . . . the internet can’t believe you two know each other, let alone fancy the other.
◦∘。゚. note . . . back from my fic making slump!!! i hope yall like this because i actually had fun writing this soooo… happy reading everyone 💙 (also pls don’t ask for pt2 because i don’t usually make them or enjoy doing so)
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liked by charles_leclerc, maudeapatow and 1,724,865 others
yourusername you can keep thinking about me every night even more because espresso is out everywhere now!!!! ☕️🤎
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ynfan1 MOTHER IS MOTHERING
ynfan2 can’t wait for ynchella
⤷ ynfan3 oh she’s gonna eat everyone uppp
charlesfan1 what is charles doing here🤨
ynfan4 if y/n was my gf best believe i’d never stop thinking about her
charlesfan2 charles liking… i have a theory but i fear i’ll get bashed for it
charlesfan3 charles is so real for being a y/n fan
⤷ ynfan5 who’s charles???
⤷ charlesfan3 f1 driver! and apparently likes y/n cause he liked this and doesn’t even follow her😭
ynfan6 this song SLAPS
ynfan7 she just releases banger after banger after banger!!!
charlesfan4 bye why did charles like this
ynfan8 huge HUGE slay
charlesfan5 charles i get you sweetie
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charles_leclerc updated their instagram stories!
charlesfan21 responded to your story!
charlesfan21 BYEEEE THIS IS SO UNSERIOUS
charlesfan22 responded to your story!
charlesfan22 you’re not slick this song is obviously about you!!!!!!
ynfan21 responded to your story!
ynfan21 spreading the y/n agenda iktr 😌
charlesfan23 responded to your story!
charlesfan23 that performance had you SHOOK
ynfan22 responded to your story!
ynfan22 i just KNOW it was you she was smiling at
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liked by ynfan31, ynfan32 and 62,904 others
ynupdates y/n at bleachers’ coachella set with f1 driver, charles leclerc!
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ynupdates guys i was so chill in the caption but i can assure you i am freaking out too😭
⤷ ynupdates WTF IS HAPPENING ACTUALLY
ynfan33 my brain cannot comprehend this
charlesfan31 nah this can’t be real
charlesfan32 oh im so sick
charlesfan33 he shot his shot and SCORED
⤷ ynfan34 how did he bag my womannn😩
⤷ charlesfan34 that’s HIS woman now i’m afraid
ynfan35 they could be so cute together
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liked by tinistoessel, tayrussell and 2,058,439 others
yourusername coachella weekend one you’ll forever be in my heart 🩶 thank you to everyone who made this possible and to everyone who came to see me, you made this experience even more incredible!!!! can’t wait for next weekenddd
view all 30,876 comments
charles_leclerc Amazing perfomance 😊❤️
liked by yourusername and 173,982 others
⤷ charlesfan41 boy if you don’t get off the floor…
⤷ ynfan41 oh you are down BAD too
ynfan42 she slayed so hard
ynfan43 should’ve headlined tbh
charlesfan42 charles you better spill your secrets
⤷ charlesfan43 we need pierregasly to tell us the tea
ynfan44 nobody is doing it like her
ynfan45 babes what are you doing with that vroom vroom guy
charlesfan44 WE ARE IN SHAMBLES SOMEONE DO SOMETHING
ynfan46 did i just lose my wife
⤷ charlesfan45 just lost my husband too…
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-ˋˏ *.· taglist . . . @lorarri @lpab @noncannonships @lunnnix @elliegrey2803 @saintslewis @leoramage @toomuchdelusion @anthonykatebridgerton @enhacolor @gulabjamoon @louvrepool @ravisinghs-wife @hobiismyhopeu @starlightpierre @lecsainz @kkeelss @namgification @minkyungseokie @gothgirlez @f1version @vroomvroommuppett
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ghost-proofbaby · 2 months
Text
when you know, you know. (e.m.)
summary: air hockey has never been so romantic.
warnings: it's alluded to that reader is wearing red lipstick. not edited.
pairing: eddie munson x reader
wc: 1.8k+
a/n: a very late valentine's day gift for you all (and eddie). also, the fact i've never written proper mechanic eddie... what a shame.
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“Yes!” 
If any of the nearby children flinched, you didn’t notice. You were too wrapped up in your victory, going as far as to partake in a terribly embarrassing dance on your end of the air hockey table as Eddie shakes his head slowly. 
“You definitely cheated,” he deadpans, a twitch of a smile nearly giving him away as he leans down to pick the puck out of the slot below on his end, “There’s no way you’re about to beat me in under five minutes, again.” 
You smile, lips painted red under the lowlights of the arcade as you lean over the table and taunt him, “Or maybe it’s just a skill issue. I wouldn’t keep beating you if you were actually a professional in air hockey like you’d claimed, Munson.” 
Three dates – tonight makes four – and you still hadn’t quite worked out how you’d managed to capture the attention of the boy before you. When he’d originally asked you out to coffee, you’d swallowed down all your excessive excitement just to answer him. The local mechanic that you’d been making heart eyes at every few months when you’d go in for an oil check, the one who hadn’t allowed the others at the shop to oversell you on a damn thing when you’d get your tires rotated. Who always smiled shyly as he’d bring you back your keys.
You’d figured the coffee date would last an hour if you were lucky. The two of you would spend more than five minutes in the same room together, he’d realize how overbearing you were, and that would be the end of it. Ridiculous crush effectively squashed. 
But it hadn’t. 
It had lasted hours, plural. Coffees finished and second lattes nursed until they’d gone cold, the outcome had been the exact opposite of your expectations. Your conversation had flowed effortlessly, common ground and common interests found with ease, and suddenly, Eddie was more than just some cute mechanic for your friends to tease you over. 
The first date had only ended due to his shift at the shop that afternoon. 
The subsequent sushi dinner date, and then the movie night the next week, had also lasted hours. 
“For someone who works on cars, you should be a lot better with your hands,” you poke gentle fun at him as he makes the first hit against the puck this time, far more careful than you had been when serving. 
“Or maybe I’m just determined to keep letting my pretty date win.” 
“And why would you ever do that?” 
Another hit from your mallet, the sharp tapping of your aggressive push ringing out over the sound of nearby machines. You don’t dare to glance in the direction of the ruckus, but you’re pretty sure someone has just won an exciting amount of tickets based on the squeals of glee. 
“I dunno,” Eddie pauses to shrug after he hits the puck once more, his guard dropping. You’re ruthless as you take the opportunity to shoot the puck straight into ‘goal’ on his side of the table. A straight shot, far too easy for your liking, but you still celebrate the victory with another embarrassing dance, “Maybe it’s because I’m into that ridiculous dance they keep doing whenever they score.” 
You immediately stop your little jumps, eyes widening, a rush of embarrassment heating you up from the inside out as Eddie’s eyes stay glued on you. The table powers down as he makes his way around it, feet bringing him right to you. 
You’d always thought Eddie would find you weird, or odd, or unappealing after that coffee date, but the outcome had been better than you could have possibly conceived.
He was an absolute weirdo as well. 
Fondness overtakes his features just like it had on that coffee date when you’d accidentally snorted at one of his jokes, and your heart flutters eagerly. You can’t believe there had been a time you’d only watch him from behind glass, trying to not get caught as you would blatantly stare at him as he’d work on your car. A time when you’d only see his curls up in loose buns rather than framing his face as they were now, a time when you couldn’t even shake his hand due to it being covered in oil. 
That had all only been a month ago, but you already couldn’t imagine your life without Eddie Munson in it. 
“Don’t go shy on me now,” he chuckles as he stops in front of you, smirk deepening the dimples you’d only noticed on your second date with him. He’d been too bashful the first date, ducking whenever his grin would grow too wide on you, biting his tongue on half the flirtatious remarks you wished he would have said. “You won, fair and square, so what’s your prize gonna be, valentine?” 
He also waited until the second date to kiss you. That had nearly killed you. 
“It’s not very fair if you let me win,” you whisper, unable to look away from his eyes. They’re a soft brown, a smooth honey, a nice sight for sore eyes. You kind of like the crinkles beside them, too. Kind of wonder what it would be like to wake up beside him, roll over, and kiss them – all before the sun ever rose. 
He reaches out and gingerly grabs your hand, calloused fingertips brushing your knuckles before he entangles your fingers with his. “Psh, who said I let you win? Maybe I just really suck at air hockey.”
“You just-”
You never get to finish your argument. He’s quick to swoop down, capturing your lips in his. The rudest of interruptions, and it still manages to weaken your knees. 
Each kiss only grows sweeter. And more confident, more sure. The first one had been timid, exchanged on your doorstep with boyish hesitation and meek desperation. But now, several kisses experienced since that night, all apprehension has melted. He lets his lips meld to yours, captures your bottom lip just tightly enough to give it a brief tug when he pulls away. Still soft, ever so sweet, and leaving you wanting for more. 
Four dates. All it took was four dates for him to make you a goner. 
“Now, that wasn’t fair,” you breathe out, betrayed by the smile that you wear. Your chest feels shaken up, impending explosion of mushiness and flowers and hearts and every single cliche the love songs on the radio could squeeze out.
“It was your prize.”
“I never said I wanted a kiss for my prize.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he puts a dramatic hand up to his chest, leaning back so dramatically that your hand instinctively reaches out to loop a finger in his jean pocket to keep him upright, “Would you like me to take it back, my fair maiden?” 
Four dates, and he makes it impossible to not imagine a future of this. Of silly banter, of gentle mornings spent kissing away crows feet, of cutting one another off with the most infuriating of methods. You’re starting to believe you’re just a hopeless romantic, and he’d spotted that from a mile away – he knew every single button to press to have you putty in his hands, and he was taking full advantage of it. 
You giggle, an honest to God giggle, as you say, “Hm, I’m not sure. I heard the return policies on those are a bit wonky.” 
If your friends thought you were insufferable when he was some stranger you just had a crush on, they would be vomiting at the sight of this. 
He leans into your space, close enough to smell his faint cologne and mint on his breath, “Are they? Well, lucky for you, I’m friends with the shop owner. Can definitely accept the return without a receipt. It won’t be a problem, ma’am. I swear it.”
He’s weird. He’s goofier than you could have imagined, snarkier than you could have dreamed, and more romantic than you had yet to uncover. He’s kind of perfect, but you wouldn’t dare say that to his face. Not yet, at least. 
You’re glad you had said yes when he’d asked days prior for you to be his Valentine. And you’re glad he hadn’t gone the boring route, showing up with just chocolates and flowers and calling it a day, but had instead dragged you out to this arcade for a night of adventures as he claimed. 
“And how would one go about returning a kiss, kind sir?” 
He answers wordlessly, bringing up a finger to tap on his lips. He goes as far as pouting them dramatically. 
He wants you to kiss him. 
Lucky for him, you want to kiss him, too. 
Your kiss is more chaste. Teasing as you lift up onto your tippy toes and only press your lips to his for a brief second before falling back. You leave him wanting more – it’s written all over his face, along with a blush that races right over the bridge of his nose. 
He’s cute. He’s cute, and he’s weird, and you really fucking like him. 
“Now that that’s over with,” you have to change the topic, move right along before your heart truly bursts from your chest, “I know what I want my prize to be.” 
He takes a moment to recover, pupils almost resembling hearts as he stares down at you. Eventually he pulls himself from your trance, shaking his head as he asks, “And what would that be?”
You’re the one taking his hand this time. If he gave you the time, you’d like to learn each callous and scar by heart. Trace over them in the middle of night, when it’s just you and him in the darkness beneath your sheets. Memorize the way they feel as he explores every curvature of your body and figure out which of the roughest patches would brush against your most sensitive bits in a way that would make you arch your back right into him. 
The two of you haven’t even discussed if that’s where the night might lead, but you’re sort of hoping the luck in the air doesn’t run out. 
“There’s an awfully pretty ring in the case up at the ticket counter,” you muse, knowing damn well the ring was the ugliest thing either of you had ever seen in your lives, “Think you’ve got the tickets to spare?” 
His hand gives you a squeeze. Something not too tight, something perfectly comfortable. It’s only the fourth date, it’s only the first month – it’s only the beginning. 
“Anything for you, sweetheart,” he says, more earnestly than you’d expected, as he steals another kiss. 
You let him. You have this aching feeling in your chest that you’ll probably let him steal an endless amount from you for the rest of your life. 
When you know, you know. Or whatever the poets say.
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judithhhh · 2 months
Text
obvious (one-shot)
jude x reader
summary : in which you and your boyfriend, jude, can't seem to stay serious when you're tasked to interview him
( smau at the end!)
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becoming a interviewer in the football world had been a blessing for you, helping you find both your dream career and your dream boyfriend. you had met jude when he had just arrived at madrid, you were one of the interviewers present at his unveiling. you had waited for most of the other journalists to leave to come up to jude and the connection between the two of you was immediate. you had tried to ignore the tension lingering but the way he looked at you when he answered your questions made you giggle and blush, leading to the footage being unusable but at least you had gotten yourself a date with the footballer not even a day after. jude and you ended up dating not long after your first date and you were by his side throughout the beginning of his career, watching him from afar as you interviewed other players but never jude himself, after the result of your first "interview" with him you doubted both of your abilities to stay serious and discreet around each other.
your interactions with jude stayed private and you both had no problem with that. that was until your boss had contacted you and practically begged you to bag yourself a interview with the infamous jude bellingham after the next real madrid match. you knew that doing a personal interview with such a great player would get you in your boss's favor, and that's how you ended up begging jude to grant you a few minutes of his time after his next match against girona. your boyfriend had obviously accepted, he was never able to say no to you anyways, leading to you spending the week preparing yourself to act professional infront of the boy you could not help but blush and fold at everything he did. the worst of it was trying to tame jude's natural flirty behavior. one day before his match, you found yourself in bed with him explaining yet again how he had to act infront of the camera.
"you did like a million interviews, you know how to act!" you said to your boyfriend, exasperation showing in your voice
"how am i supposed to act normally when you're infront of me baby, you know i love it when you act all professional too" jude practically whined at you
"if you fuck up my interview jude, i swear i won't talk to you ever again"
"ok, ok ill try"
you looked at him with annoyed eyes forcing him to add to his statement
"i won't try, ill do it i swear"
you choose to believe your man on this, kissing his cheek and cuddling back into him, ready to fall asleep.
the day after, you got ready and headed to the bernabéu, stopping to text jude good luck on his match. you rarely saw him the morning of his match days as he liked to go train a few hours before the whole team. texting him and sometimes calling him had became your way of supporting him the best you could. arriving at the stadium, you sat in the section of the stands reserved for the journalists and excitedly waited for the match to start. you sent a quick pic of yourself to jude to wish he responded that he wished he could see you in the stands with his jersey on, something that was prohibited for interviewers. the whistle blew and not even ten minutes after the real madrid fans were blessed by a amazing goal from vinicius. you were screaming inside, happy to see your boyfriend's team dominate so early in the game but you could barely contain your joy when jude later scored. the game had been madrid's and your phone was now full of pictures and videos of the game, but mostly of your boyfriend and his celebration.
second half had barely started when jude scored again, this time making you actually scream and sit up from your seat, resulting in a few dirty looks from the other journalists around you. the scorer ran towards your section of the stands and did his celebration, this time looking at you directly in the eyes. thankfully, others were too focused on capturing the moments with cameras to notice your loved filled eye contact with the man. unfortunately, the joy this time did not last long as your boyfriend was benched after a injury to his ankle. the rest of the match, you could barely focus on real madrid's victory as you were too busy worrying for the sad looking boy on the bench with a ice pack around his ankle. the anxiety you previously had regarding the interview was now gone, replaced by the need to talk to him and ask him how he was doing even if it was infront of a camera.
the match had just finished and you directly rushed towards jude, before anyone else had the opportunity to talk to him. your colleague, a cameraman, followed close behind, making you groan as you were now unable to freely talk to your man.
"excuse me, jude!" you called out
he turned around and his smile widened when his eyes set on you. he walked, well limped, towards you but kept his distance when he saw the cameraman.
"i wondered if we could get a few words from you"
"yeah of course, ba-" jude stopped himself before the nickname escaped his mouth
you gave him a stern look that had him giggling at you. this was already going not so well
"how do you feel about the outcome of the game?"
he didn't respond for a moment, making you look up at him. you were greeted by the sigh t of jude looking deep into your eyes, way too intimately. you couldn't help but smile at his love smitten behavior.
"jude?"
"oh yeah excuse me. obviously i feel good about it you know, i'm proud of the team and the performance we had during all of the game. happy about my goals too even though i got injured" he spoke in a thick british accent
"two amazing goals you scored huh? you're back on track"
your comment made him smile hard as he looked away scratching his neck, hoping the camera didn't capture how whipped he looked.
"but back to the injury, are you aware of the nature of it?" you asked, trying to mask the concern in your voice
"its just a sprain, nothing to really worry about but i might be out for two weeks"
"a bit unfortunate, but at least it's nothing serious"
"yeah, no need to worry miss"
you let out a giggle at the nickname, making jude laugh too. without noticing, you two fell into a fit of giggles and couldn't stop laughing for a moment. the man was literally folded in half, holding himself up on your shoulder as he failed to regain his composure. you on the other hand, had buried your face in the arm he had set on you. it took a few minutes for you two to calm yourself, hoping that your interaction didn't seem too weird. you decided to end the interview there.
"well i won't hold you up for too long, hope you'll heal soon jude"
"aw you don't have any more questions"
"no that was all"
"well bye miss, have a great day"
he bid his goodbyes to you but his eyes stayed set on yours and his body didn't seem to budge a bit. you held the eye contact for a bit, almost mesmerized by him. you then tapped his shoulder as a goodbye and turned around, walking away from him. you didn't notice the knowing look from your cameraman, as you were certain that you and jude had nailed the interview
the impression that you and jude had been able to hide the real nature of your relationship vanished a few days later when your interview was published. you had expected some comments but not the kind you saw while scrolling on twitter
twitter
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messages with jude 🫠
you
*sent a screenshot*
your fans are too smart 😞
jude 🫠
i meannnn
we were kinda obvious
you
because of a certain someone (not me)
jude 🫠
WDYM
you were the one that was looking at me like you wanted to eat me up 😮‍💨
you
false information 🙅‍♀️
anyways, what are we gonna do ab the tweets
jude 🫠
we could just go public yk
you
and ruin my career, i don't think so
jude 🫠
people love those kinds of romance, if it's gonna do smtg to your career is giving u even more attention
you
are u sure ab that jude?
jude 🫠
yes bby trust me
ill post a hard lunch or wtv
you
hardlaunch babe
liked by jude
judebellingham
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liked by yourusername, brahim and 1,562 263 others
judebellingham my journalist ❤️‍🔥
view all comments
yourusername my baller xx
my girl x
yourusername am i just a journalist to you
gotta keep it professional innit
yourusername shut up 🥰
jobebellingham cute for once
thanks ig
johnstones still don't know how you bagged her
not everybody scares off every girls like you
user274 we lost him girls
user729 the interview makes way more sense now
user290 ofc he was gonna end up with a baddie 😔
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arctrooper69 · 3 months
Text
As Iron Sharpens Iron
"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." Proverbs 27:17
Beta-read by @dragonrider9905
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Chapter 1:
Previous // Next
Warnings: Jealousy. Brief mention of blood. Canon violence.
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You couldn't even look at her.
That thought alone made you sick to your stomach. The fact that you couldn't bear to look at a woman simply because she was interested in the same man that you were, made you want to cry.
Am I really that shallow? You thought bitterly as you slammed the hydrospanner into the damaged component of the landing gear you’d been trying to dislodge.
I can’t believe I was so stupid! You jammed the point of the tool violently into a crack, trying to pry it out. Of course he’d go for her. She was prettier than you - funnier too.
You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath.
Hunter is his own man. He likes someone else. Not a big deal.
Except for some reason, judging by the heavy ache in your chest, it was a big deal, no matter how much you tried to fool yourself into thinking that everything was fine.
The landing gear piece was still stuck fast. You set down the hydrospanner and picked up the plasma cutter.
This better kriffing work or I’ll have Tech up my ass for a month about it. Not to mention having to tell Hunter that I broke the ship. Again.
You ran your fingers over the healing scar on your cheek and looked at the carbon scoring around the piece that stuck fast, fused in place by laser fire.
A smile made its way across your face as you remembered how it all happened. You were providing cover fire so they'd have time to escape - more exposed than you'd like to be, but it wasn't anything you couldn't handle - until a stray shot hit the ship at just the right angle.
Hunter had tackled you to the ground, shielding you from the blast with his own body.
Despite the chaos around you, being in his arms felt safe.
“Don’t ever do that again!” It was meant to be an order but it felt different than any of the others he’d given over the past year. The way he’d taken your face into his hands, carefully examining the small, insignificant wound on your cheek. His face was unreadable but as you’d looked closer, his eyes were a whirlwind of relief that you hadn’t been hurt worse. There was something else there too - something that fed the hope hidden away in your core that your feelings toward him were reciprocated. He’d kept his hand on your arm as you stood up. They were strong, steady hands that kept you warm and stayed on your arm seconds longer than the moment demanded.
But then you’d found him in a closet with Phee’s sister only hours later at Cid’s parlour.
I’m so stupid. How could I have read him so wrong? What made me think I’d ever have a chance with a man like Hunter? You shook your head, angry at yourself for letting your guard down. For the first time since the beginning of the Clone Wars, you’d felt alive in a way that didn’t involve throwing yourself into violently dangerous situations. You felt at home with this band of misfit clones. You had finally allowed yourself to feel and acknowledge the emotions that came with it. Now you remembered why you hadn’t done that before. It was stupid and you would make sure that it wouldn’t happen again.
Finishing with the plasma cutter, you brought a wrench down hard with a loud clang. The piece barely moved an inch and you threw the tool down with a frustrated groan.
“You okay over there?” Phee poked her head around the corner, eyebrow raised.
“I’m good!” You grinned, hoping the faux smile would keep her from asking anymore questions. “Just trying to get this stubborn kriffing piece out so Tech can replace it when he gets back.”
Phee chuckled as you glared at the offending part. She walked over to the side of the ship, looking up and down at the stripped landing gear.
“Damn… what’d you guys get into this time?”
It was your turn to chuckle, grateful for the distraction from your spiraling negativity.
“That is a very complicated story,” Tech answered for you as he rounded the corner, “However, I do not currently have the time to tell it. We have another mission from Cid and should be leaving as soon as we’ve made our repairs.”
Good, you thought. Another mission might be just what you needed to get out of your head and back into the groove of things. Back to normal.
Tech stopped next to Phee in front of the landing gear, surveying the mess of tools and ship components. He frowned. “Although, it seems as though that may take a bit longer than I originally thought.”
He grabbed the hydrospanner from the ground by your feet and began prying at the piece you’d been working on. “I will fix this. You pick up the tools and get that carbon scoring off of those panels.”
Phee grinned as she began helping you scrape. “I love it when you get all bossy like that, Brown-Eyes.”
Tech’s cheeks darkened, the only indicator that he’d heard her at all.
You smirked. Tech and Phee were so different from each other. Her carefree sense of adventure and aptitude for playing fast and loose with the rules seemed opposite to Tech’s academic personality and rigid structure. But despite their differences, they seemed to bond over an innate sense of curiosity and wonder. They belonged together.
Like Hunter and I should be, you thought bitterly.
The silence that fell on the group as you worked was deafening. Every so often you caught Phee pausing to watch as Tech worked his magic with the repairs.
Tech remained oblivious, but found himself sending subtle glances towards her as she worked. Every glance felt like daggers through your chest. A reminder of what could have been yours.
“How’s it looking, Tech?” Hunter walked around the corner, setting a crate of explosives down for Wrecker to load onto the ship.
The knife you’d been using to scrape the panel suddenly felt heavy and clumsy in your hand. It slipped through your fingers as you frantically tried to catch it but failed as it hit the ground with a dull thud.
You gasped as a thin line of blood blossomed across your pointer finger and the palm of your hand.
“Kriff!” you grumbled under your breath. Hunter stepped forward quickly only to be intercepted by Phee who grabbed your injured hand, inspecting it.
“Eh, you’re fine,” she pulled a bacta patch from her pocket, quickly wrapping the injury as though she’d done it more than her fair share of times. “Be more careful with that next time,” she chided. You looked up expecting to see Hunter but he was gone.
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misctf · 4 months
Text
Coach's Curse
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Jason could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he propelled himself on his skates. He expertly navigated between his opponents, doing his best to tune out the cheering crowd and the shouting of his teammates. And as Jason reared his hockey stick back and fired the puck forward, he felt as if the world went still. He watched as it sailed through the air- as the goalie attempted to block his shot. But as he watched the puck find the back of the net and the buzzer sound, he could barely believe it.
Jason immediately was tackled by his teammates, all of them cheering and yelling in celebration. He did it. He scored the game winning goal. The championship hockey game- and he scored the game winning point. The next part was a blur. He was in the locker room with his teammates, all of them still basking in their victory. Jason beamed as the victory cowboy hat was placed on his head. There were plans for a big party later that night with a few of the frats and sororities on campus. And Jason couldn’t be more excited. As the winner of the game, he was sure he’d get a few girls in bed that night. But as he thought about the night ahead of him, his coach told everyone to quiet down. As per game tradition, Coach Henderson was giving them a victory speech. But something about the speech was off. It was almost somewhat... dull. Maybe even a hint of sadness. Jason ignored it, thinking it was probably just coach getting all sentimental. Besides, it had been 15 years since coach’s last victory.
“Jason,” His coach’s deep voice boomed through the locker room, “I have your game winning puck in my office. Come with me.”
Jason smirked and followed Henderson out of the locker room and down the corridor lined with old jerseys as his team cheered him on. He remembered his first walk down these halls when he was a freshman, excited to start his time on the team. He never imagined that his college hockey career would end like this.
“Oh Jason.” Coach Henderson mumbled as they entered his office, “I never thought I’d see this day. It’s been so long.”
“Doesn’t matter how long it’s been.” Jason smirked, “We fucking did it.”
Henderson frowned, “You know all those years ago, I didn’t know what to make of it. When I stood in this very room.”
“Yeah but it’s all worth it. Doesn’t matter if it took you fifteen years or whatever to get another one.” Jason frowned as something cool passed through him.  
Coach smiled slightly, “At first it didn’t feel like I had a choice. But I think I’m going to miss it.” He took a deep breath, “You see, many years ago the real Coach Henderson put a curse on the team.” The room was silent, with Jason standing and processing the odd statement.
“What are you talking about?” Jason chuckled, “This some kind of joke?”  
“It was to teach a douchebag on the team a lesson. But the curse continued even after that.” Jason shuddered as he felt more cool air pass through him, “The winner of the championship game, to prevent them from becoming too full of themselves, would have to become the team’s coach. And lead them to victory.”
Jason could barely process the words as his whole body started to shake violently. He tried to tell Henderson that he wasn’t feeling well, but the words couldn’t leave his mouth. The whole world was starting to spin now and he fell to his knees, shivering as the coldness around him became unbearable. But that’s when he noticed it. He raised his hand and looked, inspecting it closely. The skin of his hand looked more weathered, lighter even. He raised an eyebrow as he watched the hair on it become lighter in color as well.
“I wasn’t always coach.” Henderson said as he raised his hand. Jason’s eyes widened as he watched coach’s hand become more tan, the weathered appearance disappearing, “My name was AJ. But fifteen years ago I scored the game winning goal.”
Jason was unable to respond as the feeling in his skin intensified. He fell to his back and writhed as his body started shifting. He could feel the changes moving up his arm and he forced himself to watch as his biceps expanded at first with muscle. This was soon followed with a thick layer of fat- while the skin became more weathered and tired with age. He looked at his changed arm in horror, feeling the new skin and fat with his other hand.
‘This doesn’t make sense!’ He thought, a feeling of dread passing through him as he saw his other hand begin to change, ‘Curses aren’t real! This isn’t real!’ He looked up at Henderson, who’s arms had lost their fat, replaced instead by strong muscles- muscles that put Jason’s old ones to shame.
And that wasn’t all Jason noticed. Coach’s belly shrunk. And Jason quickly learned what that meant for him. His stomach start to grumble, the sound becoming more and more intense. He looked at Henderson with desperation, silently pleading for help, but found his coach frowning at him. Jason let out a belch and a thin layer of fat covered his lean abdomen and chest. Another belch and now a slight pudge graced his features. And with each belch Jason’s abdomen expanded and expanded. And with one final loud belch, Jason could feel his stomach reach its final size. At the same time, his lean chest pushed out with fat and muscle, jiggling slightly as he moved. Jason cringed at this foreign feeling. At this new heaviness that he never appreciated in his life. Ever since he was young, he was lean and in shape. Years of practice and playing hockey gifted him with his physique. And he shuddered at the realization it only took a few minutes to reverse that entirely. He pushed himself into a sitting position and watched as his gut fell into his lap. Jason placed a hand on his belly and frowned. It really was his. It was real. He looked up at Henderson, who was running a hand over his perfect abdominal muscles. The two met each other’s gaze.
“I’m sorry.” Henderson whispered, running a hand over his head as blond locks started to sprout.
Jason copied the motion, running a hand through his black hair and knocking his victory hat off. As his hand moved through his hair though, clumps of it began to fall out and disappear into nothingness. At this point, a few tears fall from his eyes and onto his plump abdomen. He cherished his hair- always making sure to style it and keep it well maintained. He loved when chicks ran their hands through it. But now it was gone, replaced by the same buzz cut that Coach Henderson sported. And as he looked up at Henderson, who’s neck fat receded and face became more angular, Jason knew that his face was changing. Fat filling his angular face. His neck disappearing under a layer of chub.
“I know I shouldn’t brag.” Henderson- or AJ said, feeling his face with a grin, “But it really feels nice to be back.” He rubbed at the goatee that still adorned his face, which quickly began to fall away with each touch.
Jason’s hand shot to his new face and frowned as he felt hair sprout from his upper lip and chin. He liked to be clean shaven. But just like that, his face was now adorned with his new facial hair. And that’s when he noticed an itchiness move across his chubby body. The small amount of body hair he did have already started to fill in more, blanketing his chest and flabby belly in a nice coat of hair. He watched as his treasure trail grew with hairs sprouting along the sides of it. It crawled up his abdomen until it reached his chest, which then erupted in a dense layer of hair before expanding out and coating the remainder of his chest. Jason rubbed a hand through it, wincing at the feeling. And as he looked down at himself, still trying to process that this was real- that this was him- AJ extended his hand.
“Here coach.” AJ said calmly. Jason frowned and grabbed AJ’s hand, allowing the younger man to help him up. As he stood up, he shuddered as his ass jiggled with its new padding, “I know this is a lot to process.” AJ’s voice was less gruff now, a youthful tone now escaping his lips, “But I’ve told you what you need to know. You’re Coach Henderson now, at least until some other poor guy wins the championship game. But until then you’ve gotta coach them, got it?”
Jason’s eyes were wide, unable to fully process any of this. He was going to stay stuck like this? Until the team won a championship? It took fifteen years... would he be like this for the next fifteen years?
“No fucking way.” Jason winced at how deep and gruff his voice had become, “No, turn me the fuck back. I just won the game. There’s no way...”
“No, I just won the game.” AJ replied, placing the victory hat on his head, “From this point on, Jason never existed... at least until the next time this team takes home the championship. People will think I won the game tonight.”
“But my friends? My family? What...?”
“Everything will return to normal when you lead the team to victory, okay Jason? Until then, you have all the tools you need. All the basic memories to get by day to day.” AJ smiled, “Use those memories of who you were to motivate you. That’s what I needed to do. But from this moment on, you’re Coach Henderson. It’s easier if you accept that.”
Before Jason could reply, his former teammates called out for AJ. The hockey star gave Jason a smile and a nod, before heading out to celebrate his victory with the team. Jason could only stand there, in the quiet of his new office, the thrill of his victory turning into despair.
_______________________
Coach Henderson yawned as he pushed himself out of bed, careful not to wake the naked bear of a man sleeping next to him. He trudged through his apartment, scratching at his hairy chest and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. As he walked, he kicked a few beer bottles out of his way, barely acknowledging the messy state of his apartment. He plopped down at his computer, looking over briefly at a team photo. One where AJ proudly stood with their championship trophy. A photo taken about 16 years ago. Henderson turned his attention back to his computer, looking at the roster of new players that would be joining the team for the season. They looked promising- maybe just maybe this was the year.
He quickly shut his laptop and yawned- he always thought that. That hope that this year would be the year. Why should he think this year would be different? He stepped into his bathroom and looked at himself over in the mirror. Sixteen years looking like this- didn’t matter if he shaved, exercised, drank- his appearance remained unchanged. He let out a belch and frowned. He barely remembered his life as Jason or what he used to look like. It got to a point where he was starting to wonder if he was ever anyone else. And he stopped even thinking of himself as Jason. And maybe that was for the best. He could feel the magic that changed him feeding off his doubt, cementing itself. He wondered what would happen if he just let it completely win.
“You could...” A voice whispered in the back of his head, “Live the rest of your out as me.” It echoed, “Become me fully.”  
Henderson shook his head, and those thoughts became quieter. But soon another voice filled the room. One asking how he was doing and if he was excited for the year. One belonging to another man, who wrapped his arms around Henderson and gave him a kiss. A man that Jason would’ve never considered, but as Henderson couldn’t help it. And so maybe if this year didn’t end in victory, Henderson would have to take the voice in his head up on its offer. Maybe that was all he would need in the end to win anyway.
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heartfullofleeches · 11 months
Text
Good Boy
Male Sub Yan Bully + G.N Reader
"I only need a good boy by my side, and I don't mean someone who'll have me home by eight. I want an obedient pet. Will you be that for me?."
Warnings/Tags: Top/Dom Reader, Anal Sex/Pegging, Cross-dressing, Light Degradation and pet play. Reader's gender is (obviously) never stated, but their parts are referred to as dick for ease.
Anyone with working eyes could see how whipped that boy was for you.
From the day he pushed past you in the hall, a faint spark started his heart stemming from the dismissive glare you back shot his way. That flicker was the match that blew everything into an explosive mess for your attention, igniting any obstacle in its wake. Your fellow peers avoided you for the continued safety of their fingers and social life, and every which way you turned he was there. His physical harassment didn't go beyond shoving you out of his way or snatching pencils and things meant for trash.
You never acted out against him - to his. Never ratted him out or even raised your voice. You hardly talked to him at all and that pissed him even off more. To make matters worse you were cordial in your brief encounters, and even threw off-handed comments his way. Trailing your fingers up his bicep when he forced himself at your table. Saying he looked "nice" with his hair up and out of the way of those pretty eyes. It drove him mad. He knew you knew he was too chicken shit to actually put hands on you and didn't bother wasting your energy to provoke him.
Recently, your dynamic had taken yet another turn. One, uneventful Monday morning, you strolled right up to his locker and patted him on the head as you walked off to class. His knees turned to jelly, and he nearly had a locker door slammed in his face following your hand as it left his soft locks. At lunch that very same day, you sat in his lap and even fed him his food - so long as he rushed through that project for his next class he was intentionally planning to fail. When the grades were sent back and you caught wind of his score, you kissed him on the cheek and ruffled his hair like you did before. His goons spread rumors of the two of you dating, but now everyone believed it with the leash you had around his neck. If he didn't get himself into detention, another pat. Good grades? Two kisses - if he work school appropriate clothing. Your switch from pretending he never existed to dotting on him like you were actual lovers boggled his mind to no end. What made you see him differently?
"This thing is way too damn short. I told you I'm not putting on fucking her bra - that's gross. Where the hell is my phone.. What the fuck?... give it to me. Post that and I will fucking ki-"
Oh - that would explain thing. It would explain a lot actually. All those weeks back, Erin had been asked by a friend to help deliver his sister's clothing to a nearby shelter with a few beers as payment. One of them had the brilliant idea to have a drinking contest with the loser having to try on her clothes. When it was discovered he had been pouring his into the grass, Erin was immediately disqualified and given his dues. They took video and posted it to his private page - forgetting about the person he made follow back. In all honesty, Erin had no problem wearing feminine clothing. It was just that everything that girl had absolutely shit tastes in fashion and not at all to kiss liking.
What he had on now was exactly his style.
Sliding a hand up his outer thigh, you loop two fingers through the heart shaped buckle attached to his garters and thigh highs. The spaghetti straps of his crop top hand loose and torn off his shoulders; neck and chest decorated in dark bruises and teeth marks. Circling your tongue around his puffy nipple, you pull it between your teeth - just to watch him squirm as your lips break contact with his chest; the strip of leather hanging from his thigh crackling against his skin as you retch your fingers free. He whimpers mutely, rubbing the stinging flesh into the mattress to prolong that fading bite. Grabbing his knee causes him to stop immediately, looking up at you with those pretty, pleading eyes through the whispy, dark ginger locks clinging to his sweaty forehead and cheeks. You smirk.
"What a good boy."
It had all been a test. You saw that video, and you had to have him. You knew he could be obedient with the right motivations and there was none better than giving yourself - and a little praise, to him. As usual, Erin was pissed when he found out you were training him like some.. dog, but he couldn't deny the guilty pleasure of you turning him into your bitch in front of the whole school. His cock throbs in his panties as his hazy mind replayed the billionth loop of you calling him yours; the phantom heat of your breath against his ears sending chills. Erin bucks away from the hand placed over the bump in his skirt so you wouldn't notice the pulse, but you certainly had. You close your fingers around his length, stilling him as another gloop of drool rolls past his lips.
"Eager Boy! I would love to help you with this, but.... I only need a good boy by my side, and I don't mean someone who'll have me home by eight."
You drop your lips to his ear, teasing the shell in just the way that made him cry out everytime. His little bated moans were the cutest thing.
" I want an obedient pet - and lover. Will you be that for me, Erin."
His cock ached at the first title; his heart sung at the next. He'd do anything to relieve the tension in both areas. Anything to be yours. Licking his bitten lips, he nods.
"I'll be good...."
You reach up to stroke his cheek. Erin nips at your fingers, rolling the metal ball of his piercing between each. He spits directly in your hand.
"Freak."
His chest rises with a shaky laugh, yet there's nothing but obedience in those eyes. It's a work in progress. You smack the meat of his thigh with your spit covered hand; the sound and force of the saliva hitting his send immeasurable. The e way his mouth falls open as he gasps - you would've thought he came right then and there if his solid erection wasn't in your opposite hand.
"You're lucky I'm nice. Turn over, pretty boy."
Leaning back, you help Erin lift his leg over your head as he turns over onto his stomach. Scooting forward, his ass falls into your lap as he sinks down. You raise the skirt that barely covered much to begin with and slip those lace panties down; pre-ejaculate smeared into its crotch. You wish you hand more time to appreciate his attire or shove those frilly garments down his throat, but as soon as he came through your door it was too your bedroom - and you wanted to hear his sounds nice and clear for your first time together. There would be plenty more nights in the future for you to do whatever your heart desired. Reaching forward, you tap his lips with your finger.
"Spit? Since you've already proven you don't mind getting your drool all over your master."
Erin opens his mouth - letting out a gagged yelp of surprise as your fingers shoot down his throat. He's never been more thankful for the lack of a reflex. Regaining what little composure he hand, Erin swirls his tongue around your fingers and hollows his cheeks as he suckles them as you drag them out his mouth. His head falls into the pillow as you draw your arm back to position; spreading his asscheeks as your lubricated thumb teases his hole. It slips in easier than you imagine and his back muscles go taught.
"Have you fingered yourself before?"
Erin buries his face in the pillow, eyes avoiding your stare. ".... toothbrush."
"Pfft - you whore. I was wondering what happened to that. Guess I don't have to ask who you were thinking about while you did it."
"At least you go your brains if anything ever happens to your face."
Frowning, you yank the hair still trapped in the scrunchie he wore. "Bad dog. Guess you won't need the prep then."
Removing your finger, you lend your cock to his hole. He hooks one arm under the pillow and reaches the other behind him. You take his hand and lock your fingers with his as you slip inside; pinning the limb to his back as you sink in. You pull your knees from under him and plant them in the mattress as you drag your girth out of his tight hole. Erin drops his free hand between his legs, but you quickly add your weight to his arm - immobilizing him.
"Ah-ah, I didn't say you could do that did I?"
Erin grumbles something under his breath, but thankfully you don't hear it. As a reward for staying still you kiss along his back up to the nape of his neck, right below his choker where you plant your teeth as you start off at a gradual pace. His skirt falls pack down a couple times which you lose care of after a while and let drap at your thighs. He keeps his lips separated from the pillow so his heavy breathes are audible - just like he knew you wanted. Such a good boy. Dropping your grasp to his waist, you tug him back with each thrust - virtually bouncing the drooling boy on your cock. His greedy hole and desperate whimpers suck you back in. Pleads he tempts to conceal with his moans ringing longer no matter how exaggerated his sounds become. Like everything when it came to you - he just couldn't keep it in.
"ngh...y/n...please...hah... give more."
"You want more this so soon? Hm, you've been good enough so far."
Yelping as your hips snap against the curve of his ass, Erin rocks his with a stutter - rutting his aching cock into the mattress chasing friction you refuse to provide. Your hand cracks hard against his right cheek and his back arches against your sweaty bare chest as he all but screams into the pillow now forced into snuffing his cries. You grab his jaw and his head pivots back to look up at you.
"So noisy.... It's unsightly of you, Erin. Like you're a different person now you've got a few inches in you. Tell me, are you my good little puppy or some bitch in heat using my dick to get off?"
Tongue petaled around your thumb, Erin cries out beneath its weight. "Mmph.." You lift your finger, smearing his drool into his cheek as you turn his head to face you.
"What was that, boy?"
"y-yours... 'm yours, I promise. I can be both. Please let me be both."
"We'll see about that." Standing on your knees, you yank Erin along with you and lock your arm around his neck to keep him from falling as you drill upwards into him. His cock bobs with each hammer of your hips into his and you have enough mercy to stroke him to completion as his eyes roll back in his head. You mouth more marks into his neck and shoulder blades, scrapping your teeth on the bone. Your name bleeds off his tongue like it's the only he's ever known and right now there couldn't be a truer statement. You suck one more fresh hickey to his neck and work on to his jaw, licking the stray tears that drip down to the corners of his mouth as you crush his windpipe in your hold - darting your tongue past his gasping lips. Erin groans in the blissful heat of the thirsty kiss, cumming into your hand and onto his thighs and your pillow. You rub the sensitive flesh for a few more strokes before letting him fall into his own mess. You join him on the unstained pillow and scoop your arm under his neck. He scoots over, resting his head on your chest - eyelids droopy and body slack. You brush his hair out of his face, pressing a kiss to his clammy temple.
"A quick rest, then it's the showers before bed for you, Mister.. You did amazing for me. Clean?"
You extend your hand; palm glazed with his spend. Erin scoffs, lips twitching into a faint smile.
"You're such a dick."
He sweeps his tongue over the salty fluid and licks it off the ball of your fingers, cringing at the taste, but doing as asked for once.
"True, but I'm your dick now."
He stops - eyes soft and more vulnerable than the entirety of your session. "You... were serious about that?"
"Of course. You're a good boy, Erin - when you want to be. I like you."
His head falls back to your chest, hand finding yours. "i... love you."
-
The next day at school, you walk in together with your wrist in his hand. You'd let him keep his big dog act for just a little longer. Stopping at your longer, Erin spots the one that got away - some little shit that snuck a note in your locker and fled his fury due to the teacher standing in the hall. His right hand tightens into a ball.
"Erin."
The student looks your way, shocked seeing the two of you so close. His shoulders relax as he shoves the fist into his pocket. Thankfully, you didn't have every period together. "See, i wasn't doing nothing."
You peck his cheek with a smile. "Good boy.
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lyak12 · 1 month
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Lucy Bronze x reader please. They get spotted multiple times by fans and paparazzi that they are together but they haven’t come out as a couple yet. So when reader scores winning goal at Wembley at the euros. Lucy kisses reader. Like cute fluff
Privacy, or not?
A/N: That request was just too cute and suddenly got really motivated to write. Cut me some slack, it's not very long, not proofread, and I'm a bit rusty, but I'd like to think it's a start:) Thanks for the cute req, Annie :))
Warnings: None just pure fluff
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If there is one thing that is important to Lucy, it's her privacy.
You know that, and it's been openly communicated as you started dating a bit over a year ago. That means no love drunk posts on social media, or anything similar.
At first, you had thought this was going to be hard for you since you happily let your followers take part in your life, but you quickly realized that the beauty in this privacy is priceless.
You've never been so happy in a relationship.
---------
Lucy and you are currently walking at the beach near her apartment in Barcelona. You had quickly learned that Lucy values physical touch, and by now, whenever you were out together with no obvious paparazzi, her hand would always hold yours. Now isn't any different.
You look up at the brunette and can't help but smile. You're so happy. She notices you staring and asks, smiling, "What are you looking at?". "The person that makes me the happiest I've ever been", you just answer honestly as Lucy blushes slightly.
That's another thing you learned about Lucy early on in your relationship. She's pretty shy outside of football, and she could not deal well with being complimented.
"You're so cute when you blush", you just chuckle and cuddle into her side slightly. Lucy just rolls her eyes slightly before placing a soft kiss on your head.
You weren't surprised when the next day you were tagged in, I don't know how many tweets that show a very blurry picture of the two of you at the beach. People have been speculating about your relationship for months now.
As you crawl on the bed where Lucy is lying, you hand her your phone with the Pic. "You can not even tell it's us. They're just two blobs", she chuckles as you just start laughing. By now, it is just fun to tease the media.
You crawl into her arms and rest against her chest, cuddling close. "The paparazzi foto from the restaurant a couple of weeks ago has definitely been better", you mumble as she wraps her arms around you and holds you close. "That was a good one yeah", Lucy says as she kisses your forehead.
The euros were in just two weeks, and even though it's not your first rodeo with the national team, you always get a bit nervous. Lucy knows that, and she also knows that no matter how often she reassures you that everything will be fine, she can't get rid of your nerves completely.
"You thinking about the euros again?", she asks softly as she plays with your hair, and you just nod slightly. Crawling completely on top of her, you wedge yourself in between her legs and look up at her. "What if something happens to your knee?", you ask a bit worried. "Love, my knee is doing very well. Don't worry about me. We'll have a great tournament and play the sport we love, okay?", she asks as she looks into your eyes and caresses your cheeks. You nod and sigh softly before smiling at her.
And Lucy has been right. You both have been having an amazing tournament so far, and before you guys know it, you're in the final. All ready to win the euros. You've never witnessed the lionesses so hyped.
You got on in the 63th minute, and only minutes later, the Germans score a goal to make it even. You glance at Lucy from across the field, and she just nods at you. Telling you to stay focused. So that's what you do.
The regular time is over, so you move into the overtime. It's in the 111th minute that you have a perfect run, and you just take the shot. And it's in. At first, you can't believe it, and then you start cheering, running over to Lucy before jumping into her arms. Your other teammates jump on you too, cheering and yellin, but you only grin at Lucy.
You have never seen her look so unbelievably proud of you. She rests a hand on your cheek and kisses you. You haven't talked about it, but right now, it just felt right. And if Lucy is ready to make the two of you official, so are you.
You grin at her as you break the kiss before pecking her lips once more. You still had a game to finish. However, before you know it, the whistle is blown, and you're handed the medals and trophy. "We did it", you say, grinning at Lucy. "We sure did", Lucy says before pulling you in again for another kiss. "The fans that have been speculating and shipping us are gonna have a ball with this", you say, chuckling.
"Let them", Lucy just says, grinning and kisses you again. This is a nice way to end the tournament.
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leennaan · 1 month
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Alessia Russo// Take on the world pt.3
It’s the third and final part of this story. I hope you enjoyed it☺️ as always happy about feedback.
Special thanks to @babsisbakery who helped me with some ideas 😁
The song mentioned in this little series is “Take on the world” by You me at six. If you don’t know it go check it out😊
Warnings: Big time jump, Flashbacks, mentions of eating disorder. If this triggers you in any way please do not read, your health is more important than this story.
January 2024
Playing with the Ring on your finger you were nervously standing outside of a meeting room in London Colony. You still couldn’t believe that you were actually here. Standing in the Arsenal training gear, waiting that you were allowed to go into the room where all your new teammates were sitting.
It was the first team bonding night with all the new signings you included. Only difference being that no one besides Kim, Leah and Lotte knew that you had signed. Besides the fact that it was a last minute signing you also wanted to surprise Lessi. You still couldn’t believe that you had actually made it this long. Your relationship was stronger than ever eventho still no one besides your old College-Teammates, family and best friends knew of your relationship let alone about your engagement last summer.
After being knocked out of the tournament in the round of sixteen you where incredible frustrated and blamed yourself endlessly, being one of the penalty takers who missed there shot resulting in Sweden advancing to the quarterfinal. But you decided to be there for Alessia whose journey with her national team wasn’t even close to over. You supported her from the stands until the final step. Reaching the Final wa a dream come true for your girlfriend that sadly ended in tears. Under the cover of being close friends to both Alessia and Lotte you were allowed on to the pitch where your Girlfriend collapsed into your arms. “I am so endlessly proud of you, Baby.” You had whispered into her heat holding her close. “It hurts so bad. I should have done more. I am the striker I should score the goals.” “I know it hurts right now and that you want nothing more than blame yourself but I can tell you tomorrow you are going to be so proud of what you achieved. You did something special.”
Over the curse of the night the mood changed in all the England players like you predicted. After the party and the rush back to England where Alessia had to train with her new team for the Champions League qualifications you decided that you both needed a rest. So after the Qualifiers that siding went like plan for Arsenal, you went on holiday together. Italy to be precise. Alessia showed you all her favorite spots and took you to dinner in the best Italian restaurants you ever visited. After one late night date you both strolled down an empty beach until you reached a little area where candles were set up. With a questioning glance you turned around only to find Alessia kneeling before you. Gasping you looked at her tears already streaming down your face. “You know I promised you that one day I would go down on one knee. We went through so much together. And I know with the long distance it’s not always easy but you are the most beautiful, special and loving person that I know. I can’t imagine life without you and I don’t think I would even be standing here right know without you. You are my missing part, my best friend, my love. Like we always said. Together we take one the world. Would you take on the next big adventure with me and do me the honor of becoming my wife?” While Alessia spoke a few tears also escaped her eyes and you could clearly see all the love you felt for her reflected in her eyes.
“Yes. A thousand times yes. I love you so much.”
You were pulled from your thoughts when the door opened and Lotte stepped out of the room and in front of you. While pulling you into a hug the brunet expressed her excitement. “I still can’t believe you are actually here. Alessia is going to be so happy and excited once she realizes.”
Your transfer happened really quickly with Arsenal already being interested in you last summer but with your contract still up with FC Courage and your belief in winning the NWSL with your team which you to the surprise of a lot of people did, you and your old club declined. It was a really hard decision because you knew that Alessia was signing with the London Club and after now almost four years of long distance you were tired of it. And when the end of the winter transfers window neared and no WSL Club showed interest in you, you started to regret your earlier decision. Just before you put pen to paper at Gotham once more Arsenal resurfaced. With that the decision was made and here you were.
“UNC Girls back together right?!” You laughed. With Emily also signing there were now four former UNC Players at the Club.
You noticed Lotte spotting your guitar that was still in its bag. “What’s your initiation song going to be?” She asked.
“Not telling you. It’s another surprise for Less.”
“You two are still disgustingly cute you now that? I thought after four years it would subdue but I guess not.” Lotte laughed. “Come one I think it’s time. Everyone else has already done their initiation. I’ll go in first and give Leah the signal. You just come in behind me. There is another sliding door that’s not completely closed you can see into the room, but Less won’t see you.”
You nodded and followed Lotte to the sliding door. You could see the girls sitting on different round tables chatting and snacking on sweets.
When you saw the blonde locks of your girlfriend you couldn’t help the smile. It was still so good to see her eating carefree.
The first few months after Alessia went back to England worked surprisingly good. You once again called at least once a day. Talking and just being together. But soon you noticed that something changed in Alessia. Her eyes lacked that twinkle and her smile didn’t feel real. You noticed her loosing weight and skipping meals. Where you once had cooked meals together she would say that she had already eaten. When she completely ruptured her hamstring only month after coming to Man U it all got ten times worse.
Her hair got dull, you could start to see her cheekbones and collarbones.
You tried to talk to her but with no result. She always told you that everything was fine and that she was feeling great besides her hamstring Ofcourse. So you decided to take matters into your own hands. Talking to your teachers and Coaching stuff you were allowed to leave for winter break a week earlier and booked a ticket to Manchester. You asked Lotte for Ella’s number who helped you surprise your girlfriend.
And it was the best decision you could have made. Alessia was so happy to see you and within two days she broke down in your arms.
“I think I need help.” She had sobbed. “I… I am so scared to eat. At first I just counted my calories but I know what I do is not healthy anymore. I thought I looked better but then my hamstring happend. I know my body isn’t strong enough but I don’t want to gain weight.” You had tried to console her the whole night. You told her that she looked beautiful, that you loved her and that she wasn’t alone.
The next daythe two of you talked to her team psychologist. You were there for her the whole time. And slowly over the next two weeks you watched her smile return. She started to cook for the two of you. Healthy foods without measuring the calories. Sometimes it was harder for her sometimes it was easier.
Sadly you had to go back to the US shortly after New Year but you still cooked together over FaceTime and eating together afterwards. Sometime Alessia would fall back to old habits and trying to skip a meal but you were always there to help her through it.
“Guys! I need your attention once more. I know you all thought that Emily and Sarah were the only signings but we’ve got one more surprise. She plays for the US national team. Has just won the NWSL with courage and is another addition to our UNC Squad.” While Leah introduced you, your eyes were solely on Alessia. You could see how she slowly figured it out and when it finally dropped she gasped. Hand flying to her mouth and tears starting to appear in her eyes.
“Y/n it’s your stage.” Leah waved you in. It was planned that you would right away start to play your song.
You came in playing the accords on your guitar. As it was an original that only Alessia knew a few pieces of there was no back up music playing.
“Hey guys. This song is an original piece that is really special to me. I wrote it about my relationship to a very special person. I hope you like it.”
Alessia was already in tears. Lotte had sat herself next to her pulling her into her arms. Emily as well was sitting next to your girl. She grinned at you. Smiling you started to sing.
“Just say the word
We'll take on the world
Just say you're hurt
We'll face the worst, oh
I can see, see the pain in your eyes
Oh, believe, believe me, and I have tried
No, I won't, I won't pretend to know what you've been through
You should know, I wish it was me, not you”
You would never forget the pain in Alessias eyes when she told you about her grandfather. How you had wished to be the one in pain. You never had lost someone so close to you before but you desperately wished you could take the pain from Alessia.
“And just say the word
We'll take on the world
And just say you're hurt
We'll face the worst
Nobody knows you the way that I know you
Look in my eyes, I will never desert you
And just say the word
We'll take on the world”
From the beginning of your relationship the both of you sticked together. No matter how hard the way was. You trusted each other. Now for years later you only needed to look at her to see what she needed. Yes you both knew each other better than anyone.
“And it's the fight
The fight of our lives
You and I, we were made to thrive
Oh, yeah
And I am your future
And I am your past
Never forget, we were built to last
Step out of the shadows and into my life
Silence the voices that haunt you inside”
Long distance was hard. But you always made time for each other. Both leaving everything behind to sea the other in person if needed. Never once thinking that you weren’t meant to be.
And just say the word
We'll take on the world
And just say you're hurt
We'll face the worst
Nobody knows you the way that I know you
Look in my eyes, I will never desert you
And just say the word
We'll take on the world
We'll take on the world
Oh, oh, oh, oh
And nobody knows you
The way that I know you
And nobody knows you
The way that I know you
“We'll fight, we'll crawl, into the night
I won't let go, with you by my side
The calm, the storm, we'll face it all”
Of course there were fights but never for long. You promised each other to never go to bed angry. You were just better together.
And just say the word
We'll take on the world
And nobody knows you
The way that I know you
Look in my eyes, I will never desert you
And just say the word (just say the, just say the word)
We'll take on the world
Take on the world”
Slowly you let the sound die out. Alessia had stood up once you were finished and you put down your guitar. Opening your arms she run to you. Catching her in your arms. “Is this for real?” She whispered in your ear. “Yes Baby. I signed my contract last week.” She laughed and pulled you even closer. “Can I kiss you? I don’t care if anyone knows. We are finally together and I want everybody to know who my beautiful fiancée is.” Instead of answering you, she kissed you, hard.
Wolf whistling sounded around you but the both of you didn’t care. “How I missed this, how I missed you.” The blonde whispered before pulling away from you but still touching you.
“Care to explain Russo?” Asked McCabe and your girlfriend laughed. You already knew a lot about your new teammates due to Alessia and also Lotte, so you weren’t surprised by the women’s comment.
“So guys this is Y/n she played together with Lotte, Em and myself at UNC. And she is my fiancée, we have been together for four years now.”
A lot of questions came your way but you didn’t care not a bit. You were just happy to finally be with your girl.
Y/n Y/l/n and Alessia posted to their instagram
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Four years with you! From College to The Arsenal. “Together we take on the world.” From strangers to friends to lovers to fiancés. “You are my future. You are my past.” Love you endlessly ❤️
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petite-phthora · 3 months
Text
They don't even have dental
[DP x DC fic]
[Love at first... murder? - part 15]
<< Prev | Next >>
Part 1
Ao3
---
Private chat nicknames:
RedHood = Jason
Danny = Danny
---
Danny and Ellie are both on their way to Danny’s apartment. Both flying invisibly while in ghost form with Danny holding onto Ellie’s hand to lead the way to his apartment without losing her.
As they’re flying, the silence gets broken by Ellie. She smacks her lips a few times and lets out a thoughtful hum.
“Mmmm… it’s spicy”
“What? What’s spicy?”
“Red Hood”
“Red Hood?”
“Yeah, his blood. It’s got some twang to it… not too bad to be fair, could use some more kick though” Ellie says with a shrug.
At this point, they’ve reached Danny’s apartment. They enter through the wall, both becoming visible and transforming back, landing on the floor.
Danny levels Ellie with an eyebrow raise he learned from Jazz, though hers is still better.
“Right…” He shakes his head, deciding not to ask. He asks her another couple of questions instead.
“So, care to tell me what you’re doing here in Gotham chewing on the local vigilantes? You know to only bite people in self-defense, when they’re assholes, or with consent, so what made you bite Red Hood?
“What are you even doing in Gotham for that matter? I thought the plan was to stay in Mexico for another week before moving onto Peru?”
He looks at her, eyebrow still raised and arms crossed. The look on his face is neither mad nor annoyed, just curious.
“Would you believe me if I told you I just came to give a surprise visit to my darling involuntary DNA donor?” She asks, putting her hands together in a pleading gesture and batting her eyes with a pout.
“… Well, not if you say it like that…” Danny says with a slight frown.
Ellie pouts before shrugging. “Worth a shot.”
She looks at Danny, seeing he’s still leveling her with a look, and lets out a long dramatic sigh. While sighing, she slinks down onto the floor dramatically.
“Fineeeeee” She draws out, lying flat on the floor.
“But, if you’d had a wider vocabulary you’d know I already told you about what I’m doing here!” She says in an accusatory tone, finger pointing at Danny for good measure.
She then crosses her arms and closes her eyes.
“It’s not my fault you didn’t understand me.”
Danny uncrosses his arms and rolls his eyes.
“Not everyone has followed Clockworks ‘Cryptic messaging 101’ course.” He says.
“They should, it was really informative.”
Ellie sits upright with another sigh.
“All I’m doing is testing if he’s good enough for you.” She says.
“If who is good enough for me?”
“If that vigilante boyfriend of yours deserves to date my mold. “ She pauses. “My stencil? Framework? Blueprint?” Ellie trails off, finger on her chin.
“Just call me brother, that’s easier” Danny cuts in.
Ellie waves him off, unconcerned.
“Anyway, he needs to prove himself, his worth, and for that, I’m setting up multiple challenges. If he succeeds them all, he’s got my blessings and is free to date you, if both of you so wish.
“But if he fails…” Ellie trails off. She puts her hands together, a feral grin on her face.
Danny doesn’t bat an eye.
“So what, you came back from Mexico earlier than planned to haze the guy I’m dating?”
“Mhmm!” Ellie nods enthusiastically in response, the feral look from before gone as if it was never there.
“And biting him was just another one of these challenges?” He continues.
“Yup! He passed, by the way, flying colors” Ellie says.
“Do I get to know what exactly you scored him on and what you were testing him for at that moment?”
“Do you want to know?”
Danny pauses.
“You know what… Nah, I’m good.”
Ellie nods along, “A wise decision.”
“Well, since your plans were kinda last-minute, do you need a place to stay?” Danny asks.
“I don’t really have a guest bedroom, apartments too small for that, but the couch is very comfy. 8/10 sleeping spot. Some points get docked ‘cause it still smells like the marinara sauce I spilled on there when I first moved in.” He shrugs.
Ellie shakes her head in response. She stands up, dusting off her pants as she does so, as she replies.
“Nah, no need to worry about me. I’ve got it handled, already found a place to crash for the foreseeable future.” She pauses.
“Though I will raid your ice cream stash. As payment.” Ellie says as she turns around and moves towards Danny’s kitchen where she immediately starts rooting through his freezer.
“Payment? For what? Being a feral little shit and biting my boy— I mean my uh, partner-friend?” Danny asks, not really making any move to stop her from taking his food.
Ellie pretends to not have noticed the slip-up.
“No.” She rolls her eyes. “Payment for being an awesome Fright Knight for His Majesty,” She says, giving him a mocking bow while clutching a tub of ice cream to her chest with one arm.
Danny rolls his eyes right back at her.
“I’m not even king yet.” He denies “Just the Crown Prince. Still have to wait till I’m an elder in ghost years before they can force me on the throne, luckily.”
He then raises an eyebrow at her again.
“And I’m pretty sure the position of Fright Knight is not a paid position”
Ellie gasps dramatically.
“Are you saying you don’t pay your workers, My Liege? Blasphemy!” She sticks the spoon she grabbed from his drawer in the air, still clutching the ice cream tub with her other arm.
“Next you’re gonna tell me we don’t have dental” She scoffs.
Danny thinks for a second.
“Well, uh…”
This elicits another dramatic gasp from Ellie.
“No! I can’t believe it! My very own template, a tyrant! The very thing he destroyed to get where he currently is in the first place” She pretends to almost faint, swaying for a few steps with the hand that’s holding the spoon dramatically on her forehead.
She closes her eyes with a fake sorrowful expression on her face.
“Well, you know what they say. You either die a hero or live long enough to become a villain.”
She sadly shakes her head.
 “Wait till I tell Sam about your authoritarian leadership,” She says, looking at Danny with narrowed eyes.
“I’m pretty sure you used the word authoritarian wrong, but I don’t know enough about English to dispute you” Danny shrugs.
Ellie sticks out her tongue at him. Danny just rolls his eyes.
“Just take the ice cream as payment then, Fright Ellie? Ellie Knight?” Danny pauses.
“It’s Sir Ellie the Frightful or Sir Ellie of the Infinite Realms,” Ellie says helpfully.
“Right.” Danny nods along. “And I’ll ask Clockwork and Frostbite about the dental stuff, alright?”
Ellie cheers and starts floating. She begins stuffing her face with the ice cream. In between bites, she speaks up again.
“If I don’t hear back about dental within a month, I’m gonna assume you’ve gone full-on tyrant and I’ll start a revolution to dethrone you.” She says with a self-assured nod.
“Not like you’ll have to do a lot of effort for your recruiting, most of them already like you more than me anyway,” Danny replies.
Ellie cackles, by now floating upside down with the ice cream. Once she’s done she speaks up again.
“Hah! Heh… Well, anyway, I’ve got some challenges to prepare. See ya, Mr. Polar Bear!”
Danny’s cheeks flush a little.
“You were there?!”
All he gets in response is another round of cackles as Ellie flies full-speed through the wall of his apartment with the ice cream and spoon, turning invisible once outside.
---
It’s the next day when Danny unlocks his phone to a message from the private chat group with Red Hood.
---
Private chat
~ RedHood changed the name of Danny to Kangaroo ~
RedHood: There, that’s better.
Kangaroo: hey!! 😲
Kangaroo: I’m not the kangaroo here 😠😠
Kangaroo: like, I was the one who said it!!!
Kangaroo: I said it to you 🫵
Kangaroo: so you’re the kangaroo here 😤
Kangaroo: if anything, I’m the polar bear 😌
Kangaroo: cause of like
Kangaroo: y’know
Kangaroo: yesterday? 🙃
Kangaroo: y’know seeing you reading my messages without replying is kinda nerve racking 😅😓
Kangaroo: not gonna lie
Kangaroo: Red Hood?... 😟
~ RedHood changed the name of Kangaroo to PolarBear ~
~ RedHood changed their name to Kangaroo ~
Kangaroo: This better, Mister ‘I’m the polar bear’?
---
Danny smiles down at his phone for a second before replying. His cheeks are slightly pink.
He really likes Hood…
---
PolarBear: perfect 😊
Kangaroo: Good.
Kangaroo: Now, I actually messaged you because I wanted to discuss the next date :)
Kangaroo: If you’d still like to go.
PolarBear: yes!
PolarBear: of course I still want to go 😊
PolarBear: does this Saturday afternoon work for you?
Kangaroo: Yep, that works.
PolarBear: great!
PolarBear: but!! ☝️
PolarBear: this time I get to plan the date 😤😌
PolarBear: like, the second part of the date
PolarBear: after tp-ing that manor 😁😇
PolarBear: cause you planned the last date
PolarBear: so I wanna plan this one 🙃
PolarBear: if that’s cool with you too?
Kangaroo: That’s fine by me, Love :)
Kangaroo: How about I pick you up around 3pm this Saturday, I’ll bring us to Wayne Manor, and then for the second part of the date I’ll drive us there with you giving me directions.
PolarBear: sounds good to me!
Kangaroo: Great, see you then :)
PolarBear: see ya! 👋
PolarBear: oh!!
PolarBear: also
PolarBear: feel like I should warn you that you might be seeing Ellie some more in the near future 😅
PolarBear: apparently she’s trying to see if you’re gonna ‘treat me right’ and all that 🤔 🤔
PolarBear: and so she has some challenges or something prepared to make you prove your worth???
PolarBear: the biting thing was a part of that apparently 🤷
PolarBear: but you passed that challenge with flying colors btw 😊👍
PolarBear: anyway
PolarBear: good luck! and I’ll see you on Saturday 👋🙃
---
Danny turned off his phone with a smile.
Now, let’s plan that date.
---
Taglist:
@i-always-say-yea @uraniumwizard @why-must-i-be-like-this @griffinthing @i23432i @imsotiredfanficlovertm
205 notes · View notes
silencesscreams · 10 months
Text
thin ice
hockey!james potte. x ice skater!reader
summary: you and james go to the same training rink and always see each other. you eventually start talking and flirting, but what you didn’t know, was that you’d see him at your best friend’s birthday party and get absolutely hooked.
warnings: fluffly fluff, petnames, f!reader, use of y/n a few times, she/her pronouns referring to r, drinking
pls tell me about any grammar mistakes, english isn’t my first language!!
he sure had a nerve.
first he bumps into you in the hallway and doesn’t even apologize,
and then he asks you to get him some water? what does he think you’re doing there?
“sorry, i don’t work here.” you said, looking at him with your brows furrowed.
“oh, i just thought that you worked here because of the matching uniforms, you know?” you were about to laugh at him but then you noticed the red on his cheeks. was this man blushing?
“i’m sorry, how many times did you ask girls from the skating team for water?” you giggled, and suddenly his face is even redder.
“lets just say i gotta apologize to a lot of girls. i’m james by the way. james potter.” he dropped his gloves as he went to shake your hand. as he bent down to pick them up, you read the name on his jersey. ‘prongs’. you didn’t know what it meant, but it was kind of cute.
“prongs? what does that mean?” you ask, curious about him.
“its my hockey name”
“hockey name? like an artist name?”
“sort of, its nicer to call for prongs than to call for james.” he explained.
“really? cause i like james better.” you said, grabbing your bag from the bench you were sat on. “well, gotta go. but i’ll see you later, prongs.”
“i didn’t quite catch your name!” he shouted as you walked away.
“guess you’ll just have to find out!” you said, smirking at him from afar.
james potter sure was interesting.
as time passed, he eventually figured out your name, but he didn’t really use it. you found out he loved petnames, and you eventually started liking them too.
sure, you weren’t close, but you really liked the ‘hey ,hun, how are you?’s until you got something better than that.
“hey, love, how are you?” james asked as he filled his water bottle.
“hi, james, i’m good” you smiled
“so, i was thinking” your stomach started twisting itself into a knot. “could i maybe get your number?”
“yeah, of course.” your cheeks were getting hotter by the second.
“great, just type in” he smirked, giving you his phone. “i’ll text you later?”
“for sure.” you smiled.
once you got to practice, it was obvious something happened, specially because of the smile you couldn’t get rid of.
“what’s up, y/n?” pandora asked, as you sat down next to her.
“james. he asked me for my number.” you kept on smiling.
“you mean prongs? okay, score” marlene joked.
“please! we’re friends.” you insisted.
“like you don’t have the biggest crush on him.” pandora laughed and you shoved your face in your hands, blushing.
once james got to practice, it was obvious something had happened to him too. specially because he couldn’t stop smiling.
“spill it, prongs.” sirius said, without even looking at him for two full seconds.
“what?!” james got defensive and sirius glared at him. ��i asked y/n for her number.”
“what’d she say?” peter asked, remus was clearly paying attention too.
“she just gave it to me, can you believe that?” he smiled.
“i actually can’t.” sirius joked.
“shut up!” james scoffed.
“we’re going to lily’s birthday thing, i’m sure she’ll be there too. if you wanna shoot your shot.” remus smirked at him.
“really?” james asked, a glimmer in his eyes.
james had never felt so excited about any girl before, he couldn’t actually describe it. there was just something about you.
you spent the whole week talking to james, texting, getting coffee after practice,
he took about two hours to get ready for lily’s birthday, he was so nervous when he got there he felt like he could faint. it also didn’t help sirius was laughing at him for a very long time, but when you got there? that was probably it for him.
he could’ve just fainted because of the dress you were wearing, red was definitely your color. and with that he couldnt stop picturing you in his team’s uniform.
as you said hi to your friends, mary pointed him out and you could’ve actually passed out. your stomach went into swirls and you waved at him from afar, when he smiled at you, that was probably the nail onto your coffin, because james potter was going to be the only thing on your mind for a long time.
he came over to you after about 15 minutes of overthinking all the things he said to you through text.
“hey, hun” he said, giving you a quick hug.
“hi, james, fancy seeing you here!” you joke, taking a sip from your coke and rum.
“well, what can i say? im a pretty unpredictable guy.” he joked, sitting next to you and playing with the straw on your cup.
“you want some?” you suggested because by the way he was looking at your cup, it seemed like he was craving it.
“nah, i’m driving tonight.” he said, a sad puppy look on his face.
“hey, y/n, weren’t you needing that drive home?” pandora asked, kicking your feet.
“oh, if you want to, i can take you home.” the dark haired boy suggested, smiling at you, again, and how could you say no?
“i’d actually love that, thanks” you couldn’t help but smile back.
“you can just drop me off here” you said as he stopped in front of the driveway. “thanks for the ride, jamie”
as you looked over to him, he was already looking at you. his eyes were focused on your mouth, and he knew that if he didn’t ask you now he probably wouldn’t.
“hey, i was thinking, my team’s playing next Saturday and i’d reallt like it if you’d come by and watch… if you’re free and want to, of course.” he was staring at the steering wheel. “it’s this casual thing, don’t worry, i actually think some of your friends are going and-“
“i’ll be there.” you assure him, james’ head quickly turns, hes facing you again.
now you both are just staring at each other, lingering. his hand went over to you and put back a strand of your hair, and so you heart was pounding in your chest very rapidly and you didn’t quite know what he’d do next.
“i really wanna kiss you now.” he whispered like it was the biggest secret he ever told anyone.
“okay.” you answered, quickly nodding, very nervous to say anything else.
“but i cant though, not yet, ‘cause i know you had a lot to drink.” you felt like he was mostly saying that to himself.
“good night, james, thanks again for the ride.” you felt kind of let down, but still gave him a kiss on the cheek before you opened the car door.
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU COULDNT KISS HER? WHAT THE HELL JAMES??” sirius shouted out at the locker room.
“SHE HAD A LOT TO DRINK!” he was trying so hard to defend himself, peter shook his head in disbelief.
“shes out there, i think. i’ll kiss her as soon as we finish this, i swear.” james promised, putting on his gloves.
“its not us you gotta swear to, mate.” remus said, and james knew that.
“wait so he didnt kiss you because you had some drinks?” lily asked, confused. “THAT WAS A FOUL, COME ON REF!” she shouted out before you answered.
“i actually think its kind of sweet.” pandora commented.
“i feel the same, but i really wanted a kiss, and i didn’t even drink that much! did i?” you ask, nervously.
“i dont think so.” lily was up and clapping now, she was the most excited about the game of all people there, mary was just giggling at her girlfriend enthusiasm.
you waved at james during the intermission, he blushed and waved back and you were incredibly happy. you were cheering when he scores, and eventually started shouting the same things as lily (because you knew nothing about the rules).
when they won the game, you cheered like a proud mother, it felt good to be there for him. as he stepped out of the rink, he was calling you over, as you ran to him, he was taking his helmet off and turned around to get the mouthguard and you thought that was the cutest thing.
“hi” you smiled at him.
“hi” he answered, pulling you in and immediately kissing you, his lips were soft and he smelled like strawberry two in one shampoo.
“is this okay?” he asked once he pulled back, you couldn’t bare to answer, so you nodded, and just pulled him in again.
“hm, could you maybe get me some water?” he joked, pulling back again
“you’re an idiot, james potter.”
later that same evening, as you watched him dip french fries in a milkshake, you realized that you were walking on thin ice, specially because you might be falling in love.
829 notes · View notes
sellawrites · 1 year
Text
HATE THE PLAYER, NOT THE GAME
word count: 2.1k
pairing: caitlin clark x reader
⚠️warnings⚠️
explicit smut, explicit language
prompts:
mid fight and caitlin just grabs your face and kisses you with all the passion in the world
“we really shouldn’t” “tell me to stop and i will”
caitlin doing the gay ass knee thing to you
you and caitlin being rivals and also exes but you’ll still hook up time to time (usually it’s just wild hate sex after games) but during this certain game you’re both just one upping the other and it reaches a point where she comes up to your ear and mumbles, “keep it up, you’ll need that energy for later as well”
caitlin pulling you in by your waist and moaning in your mouth while making out
Playing for Maryland, you first knew Caitlin Clark as “that bitch from Iowa” who talked a lot of shit but dropped 30 a game to back it up. Admittedly, you didn’t believe it at the start. Sure, you’d seen video and scouting reports, but she was a freshman like you, so you figured it had to be some extended beginners’ luck.
That was until you played her for the first time and she got a 34-point triple-double, your impressive 22 point double-double (the first of your career, and of course you got the same number of points as her number) paling in comparison. Through it all, she didn’t even seem to break a sweat, and bantered back at you with as much fire as you gave her, which made you more upset than the final score did. It was at that moment that you decided that you hated Caitlin Clark.
You figured that would probably be as much as your relationship would develop, and it stayed that way until halfway through sophomore year when she cornered you in an empty hallway after a game and kissed you within an inch of your life (you didn’t want to think about why you kissed back so eagerly). After that, you figured that you guys probably had some stuff to talk about, so you messaged her on Instagram and got coffee.
This lead to a 10-month-long relationship, but you had to end it when the long distance became too much. You were both jealous by nature, and the separation was only making it worse.
Your first game against Caitlin after the breakup was intense, both of you playing like you had something to prove. After the game ended, you’d tried to be civil and left the gym together, but it had turned into another argument. You were practically screaming at each other in yet another empty hallway when Caitlin had grabbed your face and kissed you as passionately as she ever had, pinning you against the wall with a knee in between your legs.
You’d pulled away. “We can’t do this again, Caitlin,” you’d protested weakly, already grinding down on her knee.
Caitlin had laughed at you as she’d started to kiss your neck. “Tell me to stop right now, and I will,” she’d offered with a smirk. “But this could be good for us. It doesn’t have to mean anything, it can just be sex.”
You were ashamed to admit that that was all the convincing that it took for you to give in, riding Caitlin’s thigh to an orgasm as she swallowed your moans. You’d dragged her out to your car to make her cum on your tongue and she’d left immediately after, but it had set a precedent. Against your better judgment, you now often found yourself sneaking away with her after games to have what was undeniably good sex.
This game, however, had you vowing to break that pattern. You were seething as Caitlin drew yet another foul on a shot that she never would’ve made, winking at you as she easily sunk the two free throws. To make matters worse, you had picked up a stupid technical foul because of her. There was not a thing in the world that could convince you to have sex with Caitlin Clark after this.
The next time that you had the ball, you resolved to humiliate her. Faking a pass, you buried a step-back three right over Caitlin. You smiled sweetly at her as you ran back on defence. Your smile faded as she hit a three in transition from even farther back than you’d been. On the next possession, you made a tough layup and the foul shot as well. Seemingly unbothered, Caitlin replied by breaking away from a double-team to hit another perfect three.
You were both relentless, matching each other point for point. No one other than you and Caitlin had scored in second quarter, and you were both on 12-point scoring runs. The play was moving fast and you were both clearly getting tired, so you were thankful when a timeout was finally called.
As Caitlin walked by you on the way to her bench, she pressed her lips almost to your ear. “Be careful, you need to save some of that energy for later,” she whispered, throwing a heated look over her shoulder.
You hoped that there were miraculously no cameras on you, because you could feel your body betraying you by blushing furiously. Obviously, you knew that you and Caitlin were currently the talk of the game, so you prayed that the announcers would dismiss it as more banter.
Your team had possession out of the timeout, and of course the ball went to you. Driving to the hoop, you reached to make the layup and slammed into Caitlin, who had somehow gotten there before you. The whistle blew as you fell to the ground, both of you thinking that the foul was on the other person.
You locked eyes as you were both pulled up by your teammates, waiting on the call. Your mouth opened in shock as it was announced that Caitlin had gotten an FF2, resulting in an immediate ejection from the game. She stormed over to the refs, hands already in the air, and had to be pulled away by her coaches.
“Bye!” You waved at her as she left, and blew a few kisses for good measure. Hearing the whistle again, you turned in shock to see them call an unsportsmanlike technical foul on you. It was your second, meaning that you had to leave as well.
Giving the refs a death glare, you stormed out after Caitlin. When you got out of the gym, you saw her back disappearing into her team’s locker room. You threw open the door to find her sitting on one of the benches with her head down, breathing hard.
“I’m actually going to kill you,” you threatened, almost believing it yourself.
Caitlin slowly looked up at you, clenching her jaw. “Oh, you’re going to kill me?” she said through gritted teeth, standing up. “That was a charge and you know it! Thanks to you, I just got ejected from a game for the first time ever!”
You took a step closer to her. “Oh, relax! You still got 31 points! You and your fucking ego!” Your voice was getting louder as the argument escalated. “You didn’t need to talk back to the ref and piss him off, but you just had to have the last word, didn’t you?”
Caitlin didn’t even flinch. “My ego, really? I think you mean my pride. Of course I’m going to argue a call when it’s as obviously wrong as that one!” She stopped to take a breath, running her tongue over her lips, and it snapped whatever restraint you had.
Not feeling entirely in control of your own body, you roughly grabbed the back of her head, pulling her in for a bruising kiss. You used Caitlin’s gasp of surprise as an opportunity to slip your tongue into her mouth. She moaned loudly and pulled you closer, her hands wrapping around your waist.
You leaned into the kiss, making her back up until she hit the wall. “Lift your arms,” you murmured onto her lips. She complied, allowing you to pull her jersey over her head. You quickly discarded your own jersey and pinned her arms above her head as you kissed her again, shoving a knee between her legs.
You tugged on her bottom lip with your teeth, smiling in satisfaction as her back arched, further pressing your bodies together.
“Need… you,” Caitlin panted. “Take off your shorts.” You needed her as well, but were too pissed to admit it.
“Are we doing this?” You tried to sound exasperated, but couldn’t keep the eagerness out of your voice as you did as she said.
“Yes,” Caitlin rolled her eyes. “I know you love this as much as I do,” she breathed into your ear, holding eye contact as she took off her bra.
You kissed down her body, stopping to tease her nipples with your tongue. When you got to her stomach, you pulled her shorts off. Her panties were visibly soaked, and you couldn’t tell if it was from sweat or arousal. Deciding that you didn’t care, you pulled them off and plunged two fingers into her pussy.
Caitlin moaned loudly, throwing her head back. You continued to move your fingers inside her as you lowered your mouth to her clit. At the first lick of your tongue, Caitlin grabbed your braid and pulled your mouth away.
“I wanna fuck you,” she whined, looking into your eyes.
“Here?” you asked. Your chin was still tilted up to look at her by your her grip on your hair. Not breaking eye contact, you slowly slid your fingers out of her pussy and took your time licking them clean.
Caitlin finally let go of your hair. “Just come here,” she mumbled. She laid down on a bench in the middle of the room, leaving her legs spread wide.
You stripped off your bra and panties, scrambling to climb on top of her and straddle her leg. You kissed her hungrily, gasping as she reached up to fondle your tits. You bit Caitlin’s lip almost hard enough to draw blood, and her hips bucked in a way that perfectly stimulated your clit.
You rolled your hips, your pussies sliding against each other. Caitlin desperately thrust her hips up to match your pace, both of you panting and moaning into each other’s mouths. Once you found your rhythm, you captured Caitlin’s mouth with your own again.
As much as she aggravated you, you had to admit that you couldn’t get enough of her. Her lips were addicting, and the feeling of her clit rubbing against yours was heavenly. Caitlin’s hands ran down your back, and you wondered if there were going to be scratch marks later.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m so close,” moaned Caitlin, her grip on your waist tightening.
Her voice sounded ruined, and it did something to you. “Me too,” you gasped, biting your lip to stifle your own moans. You sat up to get a better angle and looked down to see Caitlin watching you intently. The weight of her gaze made your heart beat wildly.
“You look so pretty riding me like that,” she said huskily. Hating that she knew exactly what got to you, you couldn’t stop your orgasm from hitting. Planting your hands on Caitlin’s stomach, you threw your head back as pleasure coursed through your body.
The sight of you falling apart was enough to send Caitlin over the edge, her breath stuttering as she came. Keeping her hands on your waist, she guided your bodies through your orgasms. You collapsed onto Caitlin and laid there for a minute, unable to move. Neither of you said anything, your chests rising and falling in unison.
When you trusted your legs enough to stand, you gingerly climbed off of Caitlin and got some wet paper towels. You cleaned each other up the best that you could and put your clothes back on.
You sat down on a bench as Caitlin went to the mirror to fix her hair, and silence filled the room again. “That was… intense,” you began, not really sure what to say.
“Yeah, it was,” she turned to you. “Maybe getting ejected wasn’t the worst thing. You should probably fix your hair, too,” she suggested, turning away again.
You stood up with a groan, knowing that she was right. “Oh my god,” you smirked at her through the mirror, adjusting your ponytail. “You’re going to be all over the news tomorrow!” You gave up on fixing the braid, deciding to put your hair into a low bun.
“So are you,” retorted Caitlin. “How is that funny?”
“No one cares about me, I’m not the Caitlin Clark,” you said with an air of superiority. “This has been fun, but I’m off to have a normal night, which is a privilege that you won’t get!”
You blew her a kiss as you walked backwards towards the locker room door. Before you could pull it towards you, it was thrown open from the other side and Iowa players started streaming in.
“What are YOU doing here?” asked Caitlin’s teammate, Gabbie, her tone hostile.
“I was just leaving,” you said sweetly. “Me and Caitlin were just… talking.” You paused to accentuate your point, winking at Gabbie.
Caitlin had overheard the whole conversation. “Fuck you!” she said, sounding genuinely irritated as she shoved you out the door.
“Any time,” you tossed over your shoulder on your way to your team’s locker room.
550 notes · View notes
envirae · 6 months
Text
my very first love ! — 24: break my heart?
masterlist
prev // next
wc: 963
written part below the cut!
"How much of that did you hear?" He asked, he stared back at you blankly, almost as if he didn't believe you were real.
"I think a lot more than I was supposed to." You answered honestly, Riki opened his mouth to speak, but both of your phones were buzzing incessantly with texts from your captains.
He sighed, before turning his phone off and looking back at you. "Let's talk after the show. There's so much I want to say to you."
⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢୨୧⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢
You were set to perform right after Enha, which Soobin was very much unhappy with. Thankfully, though, they actually performed their own choreo this time.
This hardly calmed Soobin down, however, because god— were they killing it.
Their power on stage demanded the attention of the audience and their charisma helped to distract from any mistakes they could have made.
Heeseung shot Soobin a smirk on their way off stage, and it took everything in Soobin not to choke him out right then and there.
For any team, they would have been impossible to follow up.
Not for your team, though.
It was the performance of a lifetime. You don't think you had ever put this much of your blood, sweat, and tears into anything before. And now, here you were, ready to see all of it pay off.
After your performance, you and the rest of the novas sat eagerly backstage, waiting for the rest of the teams to finish performing and for scores to be announced.
This was one of the biggest, most important moments of your high school career, but you couldn't get your mind off Riki.
All the things he told Jiwoo backstage, were they true? Would you be an idiot for letting him back into your life after he had already hurt you so bad?
You were far from discreet, and the way you and Riki kept making prolonged eye contact backstage almost killed you.
Your team, along with all of the others, stood at the wings of the stage as they announced the winners. Third place had been given to a team from Daegu, and you waited in anticipation for the top two.
"In second place," The announcer began, "from HYBE academy of the arts, ENHYPEN."
You watched as the boys' faces fell. However, they sucked it up and put on a smile as they walked out.
"And finally, in first place, the Korean Junior National champions, also from HYBE academy of arts, SUPERNOVA."
You couldn't believe it.
You almost thought that you had heard them wrong. But no, you had won. You actually beat ENHYPEN. For the first time ever, they didn't take away your spotlight.
Soobin made sure to walk out with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face, staring directly at the boys the entire time. He gracefully accepted the trophy, and it almost looked like he was about to cry.
You were over the moon, all the hard work you and your teammates had been put in for the past year was finally paying off. You showed ENHYPEN- and the entire school, that you were done living in their shadows. And as you looked at Riki, he smiled and sent you a thumbs up.
⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢୨୧⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢
When Riki finally found you backstage, you didn't know what to say. You smiled at him, and you wanted to say something, but no words came out.
"Congratulations on your win. You deserved it, really." He said, a soft yet embarrassed smile on his face.
"Thanks, Riks. I really appreciate it. How'd your team take the news?" You asked, out of pure curiosity. You knew that team, and you knew they were most likely throwing nothing short of temper tantrums right now.
"Better than I thought they would, to be honest. Except for Jay, I'm pretty sure he stormed out and drove home." You laughed, and so did he. It was nice hearing his laugh, you hadn't even realized how much you missed it.
It was silent for a while before you finally looked back at him. "About earlier- I didn't mean to eavesdrop, it's just-"
"It's okay, y/n. It's all stuff I wish I would've told you before, anyways, and I hate that I never did." He cut you off, and you were a little shocked. "I never knew why I got so flustered around you before. I have never felt this nervous around someone before, ever. But when it comes to you, I go crazy."
He paused, searching for any hint of emotions in your expression, but kept going.
"I like- No, I love you y/n. And I don't care if our teams hate each other, I don't care if you think we would never work, I don't care if there are a million logical reasons why we shouldn't be together. Because I love you, y/n. And I think that's the only reason we need to tell us that we should."
"Riki, I don't even know what to say." You chuckled, cheeks bright red from the sudden confession. "I agree that there are a million reasons we shouldn't be together."
His face fell slightly as he braced himself for rejection, but you kept going.
"But I love you too, Riki. You make me want to be the best version of myself that I can be. I think we owe it to ourselves to try."
The smile that appeared on his face was so bright, you would've thought he was the one who won a national competition today. He engulfed you in a hug so tight you thought you were going to lose all air in your lungs.
"You gonna break my heart, y/n?"
"Only if you break mine first." You teased, and this time, he placed a chaste kiss on your lips.
⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢୨୧⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢
a/n: it's finally over! i apologize for the (kinda) hiatus i took during the later parts of this smau, but that is over and i am now back! i have had so much fun writing this smau and i hope you guys had fun reading it, too :). i have an epilogue coming out and a new smau announcement very soon so please stay tuned for that!
p.s. i hope you guys noticed the tatbilb reference 😚
taglist 1 (closed): @haknom @kjrcrz @lalalalawon @123-678h @k25vi @aosbie @yenqa @wondering-out-loud @captivq @enhaz1 @luvistqrzzz @luvchungha @beomgyusonlywife @heart4hees @mrchweeee @mywons @jwnoot @jayujus @jaeyunsimswife @yumilovesloona @pagesofmiracles @eumppattv @fluerz @yjwfav @darly6n
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Rusty | Chapter 1 | S.R
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Chapter Summary - When you find a handsome cowboy in need of assistance at the side of the road you make the decision to help him, despite the personal risk.
A/N - just pretend for me that the episode Rusty took place before Believer and 300.
Paring - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader
Category - strangers to friends to lovers | angst | smut minors DNI
Warnings - some direct quotes taken from 15.07 Rusty, vague mentions of the events in 13.22 Believer and 14.01 300, depiction of injuries, Spencer’s intrusive thoughts, swearing.
WC - 6.5k
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Chapter 1 - Wanted Dead or Alive
He’d watched the sun ebb across the sky, from where it began at its midday position directly overhead, scoring laboriously down, not impeded by a cloud in the expanse of blue. 
He witnessed it leisurely recede across the stratosphere, edging lower and lower on its slow descent towards the horizon. With each passing hour the heat dwindled, the sweat that had gathered on his temples and forehead was drying and crusting against his skin. 
The earth beneath him started to cool, unhurriedly, or perhaps he just got used to the temperature which seeped through the layers, beneath the denim of his shirt, further permeating his t-shirt until it scorched the skin of his back. 
The black stetson, which was originally used to cover his eyes from the assault of the sun, was now resting on his chest. 
It started growing darker around a half hour ago at his estimate and it wouldn’t be long before the darkness encompassed him, literally but maybe even figuratively too. 
Maybe out here on this isolated stretch of desert miles outside of town, would be where former FBI
Supervisory Special Agent Doctor Spencer Reid would meet his end. 
His heavy and tired eyes fluttered. He’d tried to fight it for hours now, desperate to stay awake in case a car passed by on the baron road. In all the hours he laid there, not a single one had. And now it was getting dark, the likelihood of a car even seeing him from the road was slim. 
He gave over to it, closing his eyes as his fingers drummed against the dusty ground beneath him. He was taken back to a conversation of years passed, he could practically hear the thrum of the jet's engine as she spoke. 
“All this talk of alternate realities, where do you think you’d be in a parallel universe? You know, one of your imagined futures?” Jennifer tucked the blanket tighter around her body, the BAU jet’s AC up high. 
Spencer closed his book while his eyebrows furrowed in curious contemplation at his friend's question. 
“I don’t know.” He shook his head lightly. 
“Come on,” she gave him an almost knowing look. “If you weren’t an FBI Agent, what would you do?”
Spencer inhaled through his nose, the cool air tickling his sinuses before puffing the breath back out. 
He glanced over his shoulder, then over JJ’s to check no one else was within ear shot. 
“Promise not to laugh…?” He asked and she nodded slowly with a twitch at her lip. “A cowboy.” 
He could still see the look of amusement coupled with confusion at his admittance. The way she couldn’t quite contain her smile, but also the way her forehead crinkled. 
“A cowboy?” She repeated, as though doing so might help her make sense of his words. 
“Yeah. I’d, uh, you know, have some horses, a few cattle; be surrounded by nature.” A slightly dreamy look washed over him. 
Even now laying in the dirt as the sun set that same smile appeared on his grossly chapped lips. Even as his mind succumbed to the idea that he was to die out here, he couldn’t hold back. 
Since he was a little boy he’d been oddly fascinated by cowboys and the old west. He was just five years old the first time his mother had read him The Log of a Cowboy, a nineteen-oh-three novel by Andy Adams. 
The story followed the journey of young Tommy Moore, who is helping drive three thousand circle-dot longhorns along the Great Western Cattle Trail from Brownsville, Texas to Montana. It was written, he discovered at a later age, as Adams' response to unrealistic cowboy novels that were being penned at the time. 
Spencer had clung to the normalcy of it. He’d never had a regular life, and knew most likely that he never would given his unusually high IQ. 
Something about that tale had stuck with him his whole life. He kept the idea at the back of his mind, wondering if one day, once he retired, he might seek to find a piece of that which was spoken of in Adams' story.
“And what would you do with cattle?” JJ’s lip was still twitching, curling up a little at the corner as she imagined her straight-laced, suit-wearing best friend as a cowboy.
“You know, look at ‘em, pet ‘em…I hadn’t really thought about that. But I’ll figure it out.” He shrugged. 
“Wow, I was…I was not expecting that.” She sat back in her chair, nodding somewhat appeasingly. A part of her could picture it, no matter how far-fetched the concept seemed. 
After everything Spencer had dealt with in his life, maybe being a cowboy was the change of pace he so sorely needed. 
He’d gone on to tell her how he envisioned the team there, even in his parallel universe they were still special to him, just as close as they were now. He spoke of how JJ ran a flower shop on Hickory Street with the boys helping out after school. Will was also there, an old-timey sheriff who protected the townspeople from trouble. 
Rossi ran the saloon, where most of said trouble occurred. Penelope had a sanctuary for wounded animals, Alvez was a rancher. Simmons was a blacksmith while Tara and Emily owned the only hotel in town. 
They were all happy in this timeline. Apart from the odd bar fight at Rossi’s, his make believe town was safe from all the evils of the world. He and his friends could live out simple lives, not to be perturbed by serial killers and rapists and the like. 
But it was all conjecture, an innocent fantasy created in Spencer’s head of what he imagined his life could have been like. But in reality he was an agent of the law, he’d taken an oath to protect and serve. His alternate universe was nothing more than that. 
Until it wasn’t. 
The final straw, the last nail in the coffin of his illustrious career, was Benjamin Merva. After nearly dying at the hands of the cult leader, he knew it was the end for him. 
With Merva’s blade at his throat, he remembered thinking, I can’t do this anymore. Two weeks later he stood in Emily Prentiss’ office handing her his resignation. 
It briefly crossed his mind to teach full time. He’d been working more and more at Marlborough over the last few years and they’d always told him if he ever decided to leave the BAU there was a permanent position for him there.
But the thought had been short lived, barely a blip on his radar. And somehow he circled back to that conversation with JJ a few months prior to his abduction by the cult. 
None of his former teammates could wrap their heads around the idea of Doctor Spencer Reid moving to live on the outskirts of Bandera, a small town fifty three miles outside of San Antonio, Texas. 
He spent nearly his entire life savings on a ranch with almost sixty acres of land. It consisted of a single story wooden lodge in which he would live, fitted with a wrap-around porch for which he pictured himself relaxing in a rocker whilst watching the sunset over the rolling hills in the distance. It included a large barn, outhouse and stables, as well as a second, smaller lodge which was also habitable. 
He equipped his own lodge minimally, a couch, a bed, a desk, a wardrobe and some bookshelves. He had the bare minimum kitchen appliances due to his inability to cook and his unwillingness to learn. 
He brought a whole new closet full of clothes more appropriate for the setting. Crisp, pressed shirts were replaced by denims, flannels and plain tees, his converse and dress shoes were tossed in lieu of sturdy work and riding boots. 
On behalf of a car, he brought a horse, a beautiful three year old, blue roan American Quarter Horse named Willow and to begin with purchased two cattle.
Now two years later he had four more cattle and two more horses. These two were stallions, both American Quarters, one black named Franklin and one brown called Wilbur. 
Somewhere not too far away was the sound of hooves padding around in the dirt and the occasional huff of impatience from the large beast. Spencer’s eyes opened again and he cautiously rolled his head to the side in the dust. His eyes met the cloven hooves and thick blue-grey legs of his trusty steed. 
“Willow,” he spoke, causing another huff of air to leave her mouth. “A dog, I should have gotten a dog. Lassie would be of much better use right now.” 
Willow cantered around him, as though frustrated herself that they were still here after all these hours. She’d nudged him a few times in his ribs with her muzzle, silently asking her owner what was going on. 
This was supposed to be a safer alternative to working at the BAU. After almost having his hyoid bone claimed by Merva he’d decided he’d put himself in harm's way for long enough. 
But upon travelling back to town after taking Willow for a morning saunter into nearby Pipe Creek, he’d come across a wild horse at the side of the road. 
The mare didn’t appear, on first glance, to be injured in any way but she was certainly a little skittish as he approached. He simply wanted to make sure she was okay before going on his way. 
She was a flaxen and elegant beauty. Her chestnut-red coat billowed like a flame under the blazing sun and her golden-blonde mane like a wild halo as she galloped around in haste. 
As he neared her on Willow’s back, his own steed seemed to agitate the other and she started to buck and neigh in fright. Not to be easily perturbed he tried to calm her with a series of “whoa girls,” and gentle pats of her back. 
But then the wild horse let out a piercing sound, her back legs lifting effortlessly off of the ground and kicking Willow in the neck. 
Willow herself had bucked at the impact, her front legs rising. Unprepared, he hadn’t been holding her reins and one foot hung at her side out of its stirrup, causing Spencer to slide back on her saddle. 
He quickly tried to grab hold of something but coordination had never been his strong suit. It had taken him months worth of lessons to even be able to ride a horse and although he was an efficient rider now, it hadn’t improved his motor skills. 
And so he slid, and he continued to slide as Willow raised herself on her haunches until she was almost vertical. His one foot was still in the stirrup, and as he fell his knee twisted with force, the same knee he’d been shot in so many years ago. 
He swore he felt the tendons ripping beneath his skin and he screamed out in pain whilst trying to dislodge his foot. Once freed he flew to the ground, back slamming into the dirt with a thud and a groan. 
He glanced up, pain searing through his body as Willow lowered herself back to the earth. The second horse was galloping wildly, still screeching out in fear. Willow approached it and Spencer groaned out, not wanting his own steed to be hurt by this out of control creature.
As expected, the wild horse bucked at Willow again but Willow trotted out of her way this time. Spencer slithered a hand out into the dirt, clicking his fingers at his mare to come to his aid. But instead of his own horse, it garnered the attention of the wild beast who suddenly ran at him with a fearsome gait. 
He heard the bone in his arm crunching under the weight of the creature's heavy hoof as it galloped over his outstretched limb. He screamed loudly, the sound getting no further than the lonesome desert and petering out into nothing. 
If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? 
If Spencer Reid screams out in pain in the desert and no one is around to hear him, is he going to die alone?
He still had his old cell phone, he only kept it at Penelope’s insistence at being able to get in touch with him, check he was doing okay living the life of a hermit. He only used it to speak with his old team and as such, didn’t often take it out with him. 
Right now it was sitting on his kitchen counter, next to his empty coffee mug and the book he’d been reading over breakfast. And now due to the oversight, he would no doubt die out here.
Willow trotted a little closer, bowed her head near to the ground and nudged Spencer in the ribs again, as if this might make him miraculously stand up and take her home. 
“I’m trying,” he grumbled. “Shoulda got a dog. Man’s best friend, that’s what Alvez always said.” 
Willow simply nudged him again and he rolled his tired and sore eyes. 
Gritting his teeth, he decided to try and sit again. He braced his forearms against the ground, trying to turn a blind eye to the pain that rippled through his left extremity at the small movement. There was almost certainly a bone broken, maybe more than one. 
Attempting to ignore the way the pain spread up and down his arm, causing a fire to burn through his entire upper body, he pushed himself against the dirt in an attempt to sit up right. The throbbing in his arm combined with the swell of discomfort down his spine made another booming groan erupt from his lungs and he moved no more than a few inches off the ground before, panting with the exertion, he fell back against the dirt.
Even if he was to get into a sitting position, he had no doubts that he wouldn’t make it any further. Without looking he knew his knee was swollen, ballooned up so much it was now pressing uncomfortably against the inside of his jeans. He wouldn’t be able to walk even if he could stand. 
“Well, Willow, I guess this is the end of the road.” He closed his eyes, folding his good arm across his chest and leaving the other in the dirt at his side. “It’s ironic really, all those years at the BAU, all those times I thought I might die. This is not how I expected to meet my death.”
He felt oddly resided to this fate, almost feeling some kind of twisted relief. There really was no point in panicking, there was nothing he could do. 
May as well lean into it, let it happen. 
Keeping his eyes closed he breathed out through his nose, accepting that this was the way his life came to an end. They’d probably never even find his body and if they did it would be too scavenged by vultures to make a positive ID. Probably for the best, he couldn't imagine Garcia or JJ or any of the others having to identify his decomposed and ravaged remains.
He felt himself drifting swiftly, the heat and lack of hydration making him implausibly sleepy. He didn’t fight it, he let the tiredness wash over him. But before he could succumb entirely, his ears pricked at a sound off in the distance. 
His eyes shot open once more and he tried to turn his head towards the road beyond the desert. If he wasn’t mistaken, he swore he heard the sound of tires on the gritty asphalt.
***
It was getting dark and you felt your eyes growing increasingly heavier. You’d been driving for hours, days in fact, stopping only for gas and to stock up on snacks and energy drinks. 
Thinking of which, you loosened one hand from the steering wheel and reached blindly for the can sitting in the cup holder. Your hand wrapped around the lukewarm metal cylinder and brought it to your lips without taking your eyes off of the road. 
The liquid was warmer than the can itself and you grimaced as it trickled down your throat. Grumbling under your breath you replaced the can in the cup holder and wiped your mouth with your sleeve. 
You were heading for the border via desert roads and inconspicuous towns. You needed to lay low until you reached Mexico where you could keep your head down, keep your nose close to the ground. 
It wasn’t supposed to be like this, things weren’t meant to end this way. Your plan had gone wrong somewhere along the line and now you had to keep driving, until you reached your destination. 
You were tired to your bones, the dull ache from driving countless miles seeping deep into every muscle. But you couldn’t stop. You had the push through and keep going no matter how exhausted you were. 
You found yourself on a long stretch of desert road after passing through a small town, its signage declaring it Pipe Creek, Texas. The AC rattled through the car, almost blocking out the hum from the radio. 
You couldn’t afford to use a GPS system, if you knew where you were others could know where you were too. You’d brought an old paper map early into your journey and if your bearings were correct you should be passing through the town of Bandera within a few miles. 
You stifled a yawn and despite your better judgement, took another sip of the warm energy drink. It wasn’t warding off the tiredness, only making your heart thump heavily and a little erratically in your chest.
You stifled yet another yawn, eyes closing for a fraction of a second longer than was safe but the road thus far had been desolate. 
However, upon opening your eyes there was suddenly a large and imposing creature standing several feet in front of your speeding car. 
Your eyes grew wide and you slammed on the brake, the speed in which you’d been travelling forcing the vehicle to spin a little on its axis, gravel crunching under tires. 
You tugged on the wheel as the car turned to the right, trying to straighten up as you came to a sudden and screeching halt. You breathed heavily, gripping the steering wheel and staring at the huge beast through your windscreen in the glow of your headlights. 
The horse blinked several times at you, as though trying to convey a message but it remained on the road. 
You exhaled loudly, keeping the engine running so as to keep the lights on, you threw open the door and stepped onto the asphalt. 
“Where the fuck did you come from?” You glared at the horse, not daring to come too close in case it was vicious. 
The horse blinked a few more times before bowing its head towards the side of the road. You frowned at it, watching it slowly canter in the direction it nodded. 
“Okay, good.” You nodded with a frown as it walked off. “You’re lucky I didn’t hit you, you crazy horse.” 
As you turned back to your open door, over the sound of gravel crunching beneath the horses hooves, your ears picked up on another sound. 
Turning back to where the horse had meandered, you squinted into the darkness, focusing your hearing. 
“H-help? Please?” A crackly voice met your ears. 
A shiver passed up your spine, suddenly on high alert. 
“Is someone there?” You called back, not daring to move away from your vehicle. 
“P-please? I’m really hurt.” The voice came again. 
The horse had stopped walking now, you could just make out its figure in the dark. To its left was another figure laying in the dirt. 
“Uh, you okay?” You called again, still not daring to come closer. 
You didn’t trust this situation, you were a naturally suspicious person and this didn’t sit right with you. The horse had been used to get you to stop and you had no doubts if you were to go over to this person who claimed they needed help you’d find yourself in grave danger. 
“No I’m not okay!” The voice grew exasperated. “I fell off my horse. I’m fairly certain I’ve broken my arm and twisted my knee. I can’t move.” 
You wrapped your arms around yourself, huddling against the side of the car.
“No offence mister, but I wasn’t born yesterday.” 
“What’s that supposed to mean? You think I’m lying to you?” 
“Aren’t you?” 
“No! I swear! I’m a…” he trailed off and sucked in a breath. I’m a what? What did he plan on saying? I’m an FBI Agent? It had been years since he’d left the BAU but the habit to announce himself as such still lived inside of him. “I’m in a great deal of pain.” 
You clutched yourself tighter, rolling your lip between your teeth in silent contemplation. He did sound in pain, but he could have just been a good actor. 
“Look, I’m really not itching to get murdered tonight and I’m kinda in a hurry.” You scuffed the toe of your sneaker in the dirt. 
“You can’t leave me here!” The voice begged. “You’re the first car to pass in hours! I need to go to the hospital.” 
“I…I really have to go.” You shuffled towards the open car door. 
“So you’re just going to leave me here to die?” The voice turned sour. “Because that’s what will happen. If I don’t die of dehydration or starvation, I will undoubtedly be eaten alive by all manner of animals that live out here. Hell, my horse will probably turn against me if she’s not fed soon. Do you really want that on your conscience?” 
You grumbled under your breath, looking between the car and the shadowy figure on the ground. With a huff you spun towards the vehicle and climbed onto your knees on the driver's seat. Reaching across the central console you popped open the glove compartment and withdrew the item sheathed inside. 
He heard you land back in the gravel before the sound of tentative footsteps getting closer. The dirt crunched under your feet, your eyes flitting between the silhouette and the horse who was ambling around. The item you’d gotten from the car was being held in both hands, pointing at the figure on the floor.
As you drew closer you started to make out some features. He appeared to be tall, even laying down, slim build with a mop of dirty curls brushing against the ground. He wore jeans, a denim shirt over a white tee and a black stetson laid on his chest. 
He blinked a couple of times as you came into view, trying to lift his head to get a better look at you. But what he saw made the colour drain from his face and his eyes bulged from his head.
“What the hell?” He tried to shuffle backwards but he couldn’t move due to the pain coursing through him. “What are you doing?” 
The barrel of a revolver was staring at him between your hands, pointing directly at his head. His heart beat frantically against his chest as he scrambled to move but his limbs were uncooperative. 
He stared down the barrel of countless guns in his time with the BAU, not to mention the fact that out in these parts many people carried shotguns. He wasn’t usually so perturbed by seeing weapons, even when they were pointing at him, but this was an exception.
“You really hurt?” You stepped a little closer until you were standing right by his booted feet. 
“Yes!” He tried to insist. “P-please put the gun away.” 
You didn’t at first, keeping it levelled at him while you gave him a once over. One of his knees was clearly swollen under the fabric of his jeans and his left arm was bent and disarticulated. He genuinely didn’t seem as though he could move. 
With a sigh you lowered the gun, tucking it in the waistband of your own jeans. Cautiously you came closer to him until you were next to his chest where you knelt in the dirt next to him. 
His eyes were piercing, a deep intense brown with flecks of gold that glistened in the moonlight. He had high cheekbones and a chiselled jawline which was peppered with a few days worth of stubble. His parted lips were plump and chapped. 
Did he have to be so attractive?
“Can you help me up?” He asked, pouting slightly. 
“I can try.” You shrugged.
Shuffling closer you placed a hand on his shoulder, using your other hand to take hold of his. He flinched a little at your touch but you assumed it was due to the pain. 
You used your grip on his shoulder to manoeuvre him, peel him away from the ground and pulled the rest of his weight using his hand. He groaned deeply as he started to be lifted, the agony evident on his tongue. 
He tried to assist you even though the movement felt like it was sending daggers down his spinal column. He used you to anchor himself, steadily pulling him into a seated position. Once he was up, you let go of him and sat back on your haunches. 
“Now what?” You asked with a curious look. 
His face was contorted from the pain, his brow furrowed deeply and his eyes downturned. 
“I…I have no idea.” He groaned. “There is no way I can stand.” 
“Should I call paramedics?” You picked up his stetson which had fallen into his lap and ran your fingers along the brim.
“I think that might be wise.” He agreed, pinching his eyes closed as the pain flooded through his limbs. 
Keeping hold of his hat in one hand you drew your cell phone from your pocket and dialled 9-1-1. It was only when the phone was already to your ear that it occurred to you what a terrible idea this was. 
You’d been so careful up until now, was this handsome cowboy going to be your downfall? 
You noticed the way your voice pitched and cracked as you informed the operator of what had happened and tried to explain where exactly you were with a little help from the stranger. 
Somewhere between Pipe Creek and Bandera. You’ll see a car. And a damn horse.  
Within a few minutes you were off the phone. 
He was leaning back against his good arm, hand braced against the dirt behind him. His eyes were still closed and you saw his face twitching with each surge of pain. 
“So, uh, you new at this?” You waved the stetson in the direction of the horse who was still ambling around. 
He opened his eyes and looked between you and his trusty steed. 
“No, I just…there was this wild horse and I was trying to check to see if she was okay. She got spooked by Willow and the next thing I know I’m on the floor.” He closed his eyes again.
“Willow? Cute.” You smiled slightly at the great beast. “A little intimidating.” 
“She may look that way but she’s incredibly docile. Maybe a little unpredictable in new scenarios but on the whole she’s pretty placid.” His eyes squeezed tighter as another wave of pain thrummed along his spine. 
“Uh,” you continued looking between him and the horse as a thought occurred to you. “Where does she go when you get taken away to the hospital?”
His eyes opened again, landing on you in a look that told you it also hadn’t occurred to him either. 
“You, uh, know how to ride?” He tried his luck.
“No I don’t not.” You scoffed. “I’m a city girl. I know nothing about horses.” 
“She’s incredibly intelligent. She knows the way home, she just needs the impetus to get there.” Once again his eyes fluttered closed. 
“Meaning?” 
“She’ll walk beside your car, show you the way. But you’d need to feed her in order to keep her going. I can get her to do it without the treats but you’re a stranger to her.” His fingers dug into the dirt, the ache that spread up and down the length of his back was brutal. 
And then there was the pain shooting through his left arm and the throb in his old knee injury. This was not the day he had planned.
“So you’re proposing I take your horse home?” You scoffed at the ludicrousy of it. 
“She won’t make it back on her own.” He tried to shrug his shoulders but stopped short when it caused a new eruption of pain. 
“Dude, I don’t even know you.” You shook your head, still fingering the stetson.
“I’ll admit it's a little unorthodox, but I can’t leave her out here.” He forced his eyes open, pleading with you. 
“I told you, I’m really in a hurry to get somewhere.” You shook your head. “I called the paramedics, I did the good Samaritan thing. But as soon as they get here, I’ve really gotta go.” 
“Where are you heading in such a hurry?” He cocked an eyebrow at you.
“Seems like that’s none of your business.” 
“I’m not trying to be nosy.” He shook his head lightly but even that caused him to wince. “It’s late is all, I was just wondering where you had to be in such a rush.” 
“Never you mind.” You grumbled. “But the sooner I get there I can finally rest. I’ve been driving for days.” 
“Do this for me and you can spend the night at my ranch.” He whined slightly as he spoke. 
“Excuse me?” You shuffled in the dirt. 
“Oh gosh,” he huffed. “Not like that. I’m not…I’m not hitting on you. I am undoubtedly going to have to spend the night in hospital, I have a spare lodge on my ranch which doesn’t get used. If you get Willow home for me, you can spend the night, you must be tired.” 
You shuffled again, still for some reason playing with his stetson in your hands in an absent mind. He was looking at you with a pleading expression, begging you to do this for him. But it all seemed too weird.
“You’re willing to let a stranger stay in your home without you even being there?” You clicked your tongue. 
“If it means Willow gets home safe, yes.” He sighed.
“What if I rob you? You don’t know me, I could be a criminal.” You reached forward and placed the stetson atop his head gently.
“I really don’t have a lot worth stealing. I mean I have more horses and cattle…nothing really worth anything unless you're a rancher which clearly you aren’t. I’m willing to risk it.” He once again tried to shrug but groaned at the effort. 
“This is insane.” You shook your head, unbelieving you were even considering this. 
“I’ll admit it’s not ideal circumstances but I need to go to the hospital, and I also need to get Willow home. And if you continue to drive all night you’re going to end up in an accident. In a weird way it’s kinda a win-win situation.” 
“Until I rob you.” 
“You’re not gonna rob me.” For the first time a smile spread to his lips, the pain momentarily slipping away from his features. 
It was a damn nice smile, one which you were sure it was impossible to say no to. But nonetheless you tried.
“You couldn’t possibly know that.” You swallowed. 
“I'm good at reading people.” His smile grew a little. “You have a trustworthy face.” 
“Oh do I?” You tilted your head to the side in curiosity.
“Mm hmm.” He nodded, seemingly forgetting all the pain he’d previously been in. “A very trustworthy, very pretty face.” 
You swallowed again, shuffling backwards in the dirt slightly in discomfort. Spencer averted his eyes at his omission. The pain must have been going to his head, maybe it was due to the dehydration. It was unlike him to be so bold. 
“Oh jeez,” you muttered under your breath. “Fine, fine I’ll take your stupid horse-”
“Willow, her name is Willow.” 
“I’ll take Willow home for you and I may or may not stay at your ranch and then I may or may not rob you.” 
“And then you may or may not pick me up from the hospital in the morning? Assuming I’m allowed to leave so soon.” His smile was growing, but the pinch of pain was back in his eyes. 
“Are you for real?” You hissed. “No, no I am not doing that.” 
“I don’t have a car, and the nearest hospital is just outside of San Antonio, like forty five miles southeast of here. How do you expect me to get home?” His smile faded.
“Doesn’t seem like it’s my problem.” You suddenly pushed yourself to your feet. “I don’t have time to hang around this little Podunk place. I have to be somewhere.” 
He was silent for a moment or two, looking up at you under the wide brim of his stetson. His eyes shone in the moonlight and caused your stomach to coil into knots. 
“Fine.” He spat. “Just go, sorry I bothered you. So much for that southern charm.”
“Never said I was from the south.” You rolled your eyes. 
You fell silent and in the distance you both noted the distinctive sound of sirens. Seconds later you saw the red and blues lighting up the dark stretch of road, heading in your direction. 
He didn’t miss the way you jumped a little at the initial sound and how your body seemed to go rigid at the sight of the flashing lights.
“You're off the hook, you did your good deed now you’re free to go.” The man scoffed, a sarcastic twang evident in his voice. 
“Goddamnit,” you mumbled, shaking your head. “Fine, I will take your damn horse home.”
“Willow.” He corrected you and when you looked back down at him he had a mildly smug smile on his lips. 
“Don’t make me change my mind.” You huffed. 
Soon the ambulance was screeching to a stop next to your car and two paramedics jumped out the front of the vehicle. 
You stood aside while the cowboy, who told them his name was Spencer Reid, explained what had happened with the wild horse and how he’d ended up on the floor unable to move for hours. 
One of the paramedics got a stretcher out the back of the vehicle while the other delicately helped Spencer to lay back down in the dirt. The stretcher was brought over and lowered down as far as it would go. 
“This might hurt a little, sir.” The woman, who was near his head, spoke. 
“Mm hmm.” Spencer grit his teeth, readying himself for the pain.
The female EMT tucked her gloved hands gently under Spencer’s shoulders while the man wrapped his around Spencer’s ankles. 
You hovered near the horse - Willow - arms tucked around your waist. You curled in on yourself at the howl of pain that erupted from Spencer when he was lifted onto the stretcher. The EMT’s were quick to strap him in and lead him across the bumpy ground towards the ambulance. 
“Sorry, can you give me a minute?” His voice pierced over the sound of the wheels on gravel before they stilled.
He looked towards you and beckoned you closer with an almost imperceptible motion of his head. 
“My keys are in my right front pocket.” He cast his eyes downwards. 
You drew your lips into a tight line and huffed a little. It felt like crossing over a line diving into the pocket of a stranger but you’d moved so far past this being weird it almost seemed normal. You fished in his pocket and pulled out a loop of keys. 
“The biggest one, that’s the key to my lodge. Inside the lodge on the hook is another key for my other cabin where you can stay the night. The linen is fresh and there’s clean towels on the back of the door in the bathroom. Help yourself to anything in my fridge.” He told you. 
“And how do I find it?” You cocked an eyebrow at him, keys dangling from your index finger. 
“Willow will show you the way, she’s well trained. Oh, her treats!” He used his good hand to pat the pocket on his shirt.
You huffed once more, manoeuvring around the EMT’s to his other side and freeing a ziploc bag full of apple and carrot slices. 
“The stable is a little way left of my lodge, you can’t miss it. There are two other horses there, her paddock is the one on the far right. Can you take her number down?” He glanced at the paramedic nearest him. “Have someone call her when I’m discharged?” 
The paramedics clearly sensed there was a strange story here but neither wanted to ask. Instead the man reached for a clipboard tucked inside the van and handed it to you. 
It was a patient intake form and he pointed with one finger towards the emergency contact section whilst handing you a pen. 
With a sigh you took it, scrawled down your number and - without hesitation - a fake name before handing it back to him. 
“Thank you for this. I owe you one.” He offered you a meek smile. 
“Oh you owe me more than one.” You grumbled as they set about lifting the stretcher into the back of the ambulance. 
You watched them load him, the man staying in the back of the cab while the woman closed the doors and went to the front. Soon the engine was starting back up and the ambulance turned back towards the way it had come and drove off, sending particles of dust flying in its wake. 
Holding a stranger's keys in one hand and a bag of fruit and veg on the other, you turned back to the horse - Willow you kept reminding yourself - who was seemingly watching the ambulance retreat with her owner. 
Cautiously you stepped closer to the giant mare, hesitant steps, holding up the bag of goodies. 
“Say, Willow?” You rustled the bag and she turned to look at you. “What do you say you show me where you live?” 
Willow seemed to perk up and trotted closer to you, and if you didn’t know any better you’d say the beast was smiling at you.  
You opened the ziploc bag and pulled out a slightly slimy slice of apple and dangled it in front of her eye line. 
You started walking backwards towards your car whilst keeping your eyes on Willow who was following appeasingly, eyes trained on the piece of fruit. 
When you reached your car you held the slice in the palm of your hand and proffered it towards her. She gratefully took it, large gums spreading across your open hand while she shuffled the slice into her mouth. 
You grimaced at the feeling, her saliva coating your hand in a muddy, sticky mess. You wiped your hand on the thigh of your jeans. 
“Gross. So gross.” You sighed, sliding into the driver’s seat. “Why the hell am I doing this again?” 
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@andiebeaword @muffin-cup @dreatine @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @people-whatabunchofbastards @justreadingficsdontmindme @spencer-reid-wonderland @thebloomingeagle @kalulakunundrum
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woso-lover · 9 months
Text
My heart is numb, has no feelings | Sydney Lohmann
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Sydney Lohmann x reader
Summary: Comforming Sydney after she put soul and heart into the game, but it wasn't enough.
English is not my first language
Masterlist
A/n: Is a bit rushed, 'cause I'm still heartbroken
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
You couldn't believe it. No one could. Germany is out of the World Cup. A dream of yours destroyed. How you wished you hadn't injured yourself against Columbia. If you didn't, you would be on have been on the pitch, maybe making a difference. But this was not case. It was a historical moment and maybe the fall of Germany.
The game started without the luck for Germany. In the 6th minute South Korea score the leading goal. A shock to everyone. The whome time you had Waru by your side as you sat next to your girlfriend, Sydney, on the bench. You hoped he would give you luck abd dammn it did. The 42th minute Alex Popp shot a header. 1:1 Germanys is in. The bench jumped up. You quickly glanced to the big screen in the stadium, but the camera wasn't on you. So you kissed your girlfriend, before she could jump up to Laura.
Everthing was fine until you went to the changing rooms. The smile quickly turned away, when everyone git told that Marroco was leading 1:0. Now Germany needs a win. And the tension was there again. The pressure of winning. To not let history repeat itself from 2018 with men team. To not also fall down like them, in a big hole. To not be a part of the big tragedy of german football.
When you returned on the pitch and were about to sit down you looked at your teammates. Fear, nervousness, tension were the things you could see in their faces. And with that Germany went trought the game playing poorly. After a few minutes into the second half your coach came up to Sydney and told to warm-up.
The 57th minute, Popp put the ball in the net with her head but laid down injured. In the end it was offside. So still out of the World Cup.
The moment Sydney stood besides the coach with Lena Lattwein you could see the feeling from the pitch went now also to her. You just watched her waiting to get subbed in. The moment you found the right words, she ran off to the pitch.
The time was ticking and ran against Germany. And you watched with horror as there seemed no chance for Germany to score a second goal. South Korea defened very well. No chance to break trought. It started to feel like Germany lost hope. But not your girlfriend Sydney. She tried over and over again. She didn't want it to end.
Then 9 minutes of stoppage time. But the South Korean played on time. Their goalkeeeper stayed on the ground for a long time. The player got injured. They did everything to let it be a draw. But as soon as Germany had the ball they shoot and shoot and shoot at the goal. Hegering and Sydney win the ball by duels. But the last action didn't work out. A few times even Sydney tried it by herself. But the ball wouldn't go in. After an offensive foul from Lea Schüller to win the ball back. The ref whistle her whistle.
For a moment you couldn't move. It still felt so unreal. You looked to your right seeing Laura on verge of crying. The next you looked to your front, meeting the eyes of your bestfriend, Lena Oberdorf, who tried to cry. Then you were searching for yor girlfriend. You stood up, trying to hide your tears, looking for Sydney. After a few seconds you found her perched and hiding under her jacket.
"Syd..." You whispered while carefully tuching her shoulder. She looked up at you. And you swore you would have break down. The way she looked at you. Tears streaming down her face, checks red and sobbing. You helped her to get up and to put her jacket on. Then you put her into a hug. With that Sydney fully broke down and sobbed into your shoulder and neck. You were also about to break down, but you knew you needed to be strong for her.
"I-I..." You hushed her down and put your hands on her checks.
"You did everything you could, Schatz. In the end you were the only one who tried and was brave, Syd. I'm proud of you because you played incredible. You gave your heart and soul into the game." You gave her a kiss on the forehead. "But sometimes it's not enough." You stopped speaking. Tears running down your own face.
"Thank you" Sydney whispered before hiding her face in your neck.
After while Martina, your coach, gathered everyone in a circle and spoke a speech. To be honest you don't even know now anymore what she told you. You were more busy holding your girlfriend, trying not to break down yourself and looking at everyones sad faces.
And this wasn't even the hardest part yet. You also needed to go trought the reporter. You were happy nobody sent Sydney in there. But they were meaner then this and put the two youngest up to the Interviews.
Everyone was a bit happy when they arrived at the hotel. It seemed like they all came down a bit. And everyone went to their rooms in silent. When you arrived your room next to Sydneys you quickly grabbed a short and shirt to wear for bed and change into it. You knocked on Sydneys door to let her know someones about to enter. When you opened the door you saw her laying in her bed, already changed. She didn't look up to the door. You stayed silent and made your way to the bed, laying next to her. Her eyes were closed but you knew she didn't sleep. You lead her head to your chest and running a hand through her hair. You know doing this will alsways help.
"I love you" She whispered and you smiled. "And it's not your fault that you didn't play today. The columbians played very dirty. I'm just happy you're okay and it's nothing serious" She added her eyes still closed enjoying the moment.
You opened your mout to say anything but Sydney already talked again knowing what you were about to say. "Don't. Do not find the guilt now by yourself, Liebling" Sydney said leaving no room for an argument. You just sighed and closed your eyes too. Trying to find some sleep.
"And by the way you didn't say 'I love you too'" Sydney mumbled into your neck.
A chuckle left your lips. "I love you too"
With that both of you trying to find some sleep in each others arms.
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