#875 words OOPS

[aliothbuzzsawshark]

Notes for The Melancholy Of Yuuou

What a gift.

He stands so straight and baby boy get a belt it looks like you need it

They really are just nice siblings. Yeah some aren’t the brightest bulbs and still likely hold a bit of a grudge because of Yuo’s plan but it’s stil so sweet that they’re doing all this for him

Damn they really just pushed him out. At least Yuro waved

I DON’T LIKE FIRST POV STOP IT STOP okay thanks. 

Tiny.

NO IT’S COMPLETELY IMPOSSIBLE I DON’T HAVE WORK TO DO, BREAKS AND OFF DAYS AREN’T EVEN IN MY CONTRACT!

Nicely animated swing? Also we’ve seen this park before right

*Shaking Konami by the shoulders* WHAT EVEN WAS YUO’S PLOT? WAS IT JUST RECORDIBG YUGA SAYING “yeah sure why not lol” BECAUSE THAT’S STUPID. I KNOW YUO’S SMARTER THAN THINKING THAT WOULD WORK WITHOUT THE DUEL MAKER

Sliding down sound affects. while in heels like a madman. We love to see Romin have a flair for the dramatics.

Sorry, this is my one single off day since I was five and I’d rather contemplate my siblings and current situation while alone on the kiddie swings than be in a magical girl anime

Gakuto came out of the dog house because he’s a bitch

get him a nap he looks like he needs one

Not me simultaneously gasping with Yuo at the threat “curry.”

YO I CAN COOK UP YUO AND ROMIN PARALLELS LIKE ROMIN COOKS UP CURRY as in insane

LET HER COOK

that was such a genuine scream for a wave of curry

Romin really woke up and called Gakuto like “Hey remember our sick ass cosplays? Well what if you do that again but as therapists. No I don’t have anyone in mind but it’s still cool. Met me and the kiddie park in full cosplay I’ll work this acting like it deserves an oscar”

He’s sad and lonely and covers it up and never lets himself be truly vulnerable and like he’s 11 he should be playing with Barbie dolls and having friends not being alone at your job thinking about how much you’re siblings must hate you

Romin is so bad at comforting I love that for her

Roa stop being Cunty

Anyways while recaps happens *thinks back to the Yuo is just like me post* AHAHA OH

These guitars go hard man

WE LOVE A LIAR YASSSSS

HE’S HIS PUPPET.

Kill Roa thank you Luke

THEY’RE BOTH POWER HUNGRY AND PUT THAT OVER THEIR LOVED ONES *Shaking you up and down over Yuo and Luke parallels over and over*

WACK HIM WITH THE MAGICAL GIRL STICK. BONK HIM. DESTROY HIM.

it’s now just 10 minutes I talk too much 

Damn he didn’t even get ice cream for himself never mind lol

Yuo’s VA is so good at screaming no wonder he’s Izuku. Also why is that the default reactions to anything happening he dislikes/didn’t predict

Anyways now that it’s been revealed it’s a birthday time to get cake for meee <3

Oh Luke hired Mimi back? That’s actually really nice good job Luke

HELL YEAH FIRST FLASHBACK TO SWIRLY LET’S GOOO

Also yeah the Reborn event probably happened on Yuo’s birthday. Poor guy

Small hands. 

NO NO NO HE DOESN’T THINK HE’S WORTH CELEBRATING MMMMMNOOOOO

am. am I going to cry to Yuo knowing how much he caused and how he almost fucked over peoples lives and how he’s dealing with that

Welcome to the part of the notes with more projecting

Yuo is such a fascinating character. Like, yeah, in his very business and logical heavy mind, how could he repay the pain he must have given. He doesn’t expect forgiveness, he doesn’t expect people to like him, that’s his business side. That compares to his puppeteering side, a side of him begging to see his puppets beg for even implying a chance of winning after being beaten, a side knowing he’ll be the star of the show with his Ashurastar. But he’s still human, still an eleven year old that has human wants like love. This is a huge ass rant oopies

He wants to be a good sibling so bad that he’s now just going with the nonsense

“Just what kind of life have you led Yuuou-kun“ is the nice way of saying “what the fuck is wrong with you”

ROMIN A DOLL IS ONE OF THE WORST THINGS TO PRACTICE WITH HE VIEWS THEM AS SERVANTS TO HIS POWER

“Thannnn…anmmisszamm…THANKS FOR NOTHING!” Proceeds to sigh in self disappointment

USE THE POWER OF RACISM GAKUTO. OKAY

What a mood man

Mmmmmm I have too many words to say about the party and Yuo’s reaction

AAACHDDGGSSHIYCDJHFGJMMMMMMM

It’s so sweet and nice and Yuo looks so so happy and everyone is having a good time and I feel like I’m going to cry

After all this…he gets to bonk. Also Gakuto in drag fits weirdly well

EE THEY’RE PLAY FIGHTING THEY’RE PLAY FIGHTING THEY’RE LIKE LITTLE KIDS WITHOUT ANY RESPONSIBILITIES 

Obsessed.

Ooooooo that’s a great ending. Everyone is having a great time and then just the sudden flashbacks and reassurging memories. Yuo can still have fun but at the back of his mind it’s still there. Great

[estapa-edwards]

pookie saw you were taking requests and that plus your amazing work had my brain working,, I loved your grumpy fic,, and as self-proclaimed menace to society, I would love to see Connor with a full on chaotic dramatic mess of a person,, very orange cat coded 🙈🙈😋

CHAOTIC - C. BEDARD

paring: Connor Bedard x reader

word count: 875

requested? yes

warnings: use of y/n.

HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

Y/n has a larger-than-life personality reminiscent of an orange tabby cat, with a penchant for drama that could rival Broadway's finest. Their life is a constant whirlwind of spontaneous adventures, dramatic outbursts, and laughter that echoes through the halls. Y/N is the kind of person who can turn the most mundane moments into unforgettable memories, leaving a trail of chaos and joy in their wake.

Then there's Connor, the epitome of calm in the storm, whose presence exudes a quiet strength and determination. As a rising star in the world of hockey, his days are filled with rigorous training sessions, media obligations, and the pressure of living up to lofty expectations. Yet, amidst the chaos of his professional life, Y/N is his anchor, a source of light and laughter that brings balance to his world.

----

Armed with a recipe they found online, Connor and Y/N eagerly embark on a culinary adventure, determined to whip up a romantic dinner together. Their differing personalities complement each other perfectly, turning the kitchen chaos into a delightful symphony of laughter and love.

“How much salt did the recipe say to add?” Y/N asks, stirring a pot on the stove with a flourish of dramatic flair.

“It says just a pinch, but I think you might have gone a bit overboard there,” Connor replies with a gentle smile, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to Y/N's animated gestures.

“Oops. Well, they do say cooking is all about experimentation, right?” Y/N laughs, their vibrant energy filling the room with warmth.

As Connor watches Y/N taste the sauce, he can't help but admire their zest for life. "I hope it's not too salty," he says, his voice steady and reassuring.

Y/N's face lights up with excitement. "Hmm, it's definitely... bold," they say, their eyes sparkling with mischief. "Maybe a sprinkle of paprika will give it that extra kick?"

Connor nods, impressed by Y/N's creativity. He reaches for the spice rack and adds a dash of paprika to the sauce, marveling at how effortlessly they transform the ordinary into the extraordinary.

As they continue to cook, Connor marvels at the way Y/N moves around the kitchen with grace and confidence, turning simple ingredients into a culinary masterpiece. Meanwhile, Y/N admires Connor's precision and attention to detail, grateful for his calming presence amidst the chaos.

Suddenly, Y/N accidentally knocks over a jar of olive oil, sending it crashing to the floor with a loud thud. They freeze, their eyes wide with shock.

Connor rushes to their side, his concern palpable. "Are you okay?"

Y/N bursts into laughter, their melodramatic reaction adding a touch of comedy to the situation. "I'm fine, just a little clumsy," they say, wiping away tears of mirth.

Connor joins in their laughter, relieved to see Y/N's spirits lifted. Together, they clean up the mess, their laughter echoing through the kitchen like music. 

--- --- --- 

Y/N arrives at the hockey arena, her excitement palpable as she bounces on the balls of her feet, a whirlwind of energy in the midst of a sea of fans. Her outfit is a riot of colors, a mishmash of patterns and textures that somehow come together in a chaotic symphony of style. She cheers loudly, her voice rising above the crowd as she waves a homemade sign emblazoned with Connor's name.

As the game begins, Y/N's enthusiasm knows no bounds. She jumps up and down, her hands flailing wildly in the air as she cheers on her beloved Connor with unwavering support. Her antics draw the attention of nearby spectators, who watch in amusement as she becomes increasingly animated with each play.

When Connor scores a goal, Y/N leaps out of her seat, cheering at the top of her lungs and showering the ice with confetti from a hidden stash in her bag. She dances in the aisles, oblivious to the stares of the other fans as she celebrates with reckless abandon.

But amidst the chaos of her celebration, disaster strikes in the form of an overenthusiastic high-five that sends her drink flying, drenching the unsuspecting fans seated in front of her. Y/N gasps in horror, her face flushing with embarrassment as she frantically apologizes and offers to buy them new drinks.

Despite the mishap, Y/N remains undeterred in her support for Connor, cheering him on with even greater fervor as the game progresses. She waves her homemade sign like a flag, her voice hoarse from shouting as she urges him onward to victory.

As the final buzzer sounds and the crowd erupts into cheers, Y/N rushes down to the edge of the rink, eager to congratulate Connor on his stellar performance. She wraps him in a tight embrace, her messy hair and smudged makeup a testament to the intensity of her support.

"Congratulations, Connor!" she exclaims, her eyes shining with pride. "You were amazing out there!"

Connor smiles, his heart full at the sight of Y/N's unbridled joy. He pulls her close, grateful for her unwavering support and the chaotic energy she brings into his life.

"Thanks, Y/N," he says, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "I couldn't have done it without you."

sorry its so late, ive haven't been up to writing recently! hope you enjoy!

[the-hidden-writer]

Immune (to anaesthetic)

MAJOR DGS1 CASE 5 SPOILERS

Whumptober 2021 - Day 10

Herlock Sholmes is immune to anaesthetic. 

Set during Case 5 of DGS 1.

Day 10: “Oops, I Did It Again” Prompt: Hospital Fandom: The Great Ace Attorney Words: 875 TW: hospital, blood, gunshot wound

Immune (to anaesthetic)

“Stand aside! Emergency!”

John Serr had just had a long, hard day at St Synner’s Hospital and was desperate to return to his wife. However, as his replacement had not yet arrived for the early morning shift, he would be obliged to attend to this latest emergency.

It was not unusual for patients to be brought in needing urgent attention at this time of night. It was London, after all, and there was always crime going on. Often the people being rushed into hospital were the criminals themselves. More often, sadly, they were poor victims that could not be saved.

Judging by the desperate-sounding cries of the nurses (and the loud hisses of pain emerging from the patient) John could only assume this would be one of those hopeless cases. The patient was probably stabbed, and although he would do his best to save them, would most likely not last through the night.

“Dr Serr! Dr Serr, please hurry!” One lady called.

Usually, even in the most horrid of cases, the nurses kept themselves composed. It was part of their job. So this case must be particularly nasty for them to have lost their calm so easily.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” He called, rushing out of his chair and pulling on his gloves.

He was so tired, but his duties as a surgeon came first.

Stumbling into the emergency room, he found nearly all of the staff crowded around the new mystery patient. They were muttering to one another, but every time one of them seemed to move closer, the patient let out an additional whimper of pain.

John braced himself for the worst.

“Step aside!” He ordered, causing the sea of nurses to part and allow him to approach the… young man?

And not just any young man, as his face seemed so familiar…

“It’s Herlock Sholmes, sir.” One of the youngest nurses piped up, sounding stunned. “The Great Detective. The police said he was shot in the side.”

Ah, that’s where he knew him from. The Great Detective Herlock Sholmes. His son loved those stories.

Then the reality of the situation hit him.

Herlock Sholmes was crying in pain in front of him, and his life was in his hands.

Blinking away the sudden adrenaline rush, John cleared his throat.

“Quickly now! Get him into theatre!”

He turned away and was about to let the nurses make no short work of undressing the man, but was surprised to hear a loud grunt behind him.

Checking back, he saw Mr Sholmes weakly trying to push away the nurses with one hand- the other one pressed firmly against the site of his wound.

“D-Don’t… GAH!”

Sholmes’s finger slipped, sending his weight falling against the youngest nurse.

“Please Mr Sholmes, you’ve been shot, let us help you.” She tried to explain, but Sholmes shook his head fervently.

“No, i-it…” he suddenly hissed in pain “hurts…”

“We need to remove the bullet.” She insisted, though her eyes were filled with pity. 

“Ah, I-” Sholmes opened his mouth to argue, but fell deathly silent after choking out one word. His eyes widened, a tear slipping out, and through his still open-hanging mouth he let out an agonized scream.

“Prepare the anaesthetic immediately!” John shouted over Mr Sholmes’s continued wails as he was wheeled into the operating theatre.

By the time they had gotten a fresh set of sterilised surgical equipment and John was ready to begin, Sholmes had quietened. That wasn’t to say he was silent by any means. His heavy breathing was shaky and irregular, and every now and again he would let out a whimper. The man’s eyes were squeezed tightly shut, rivers of sweat were trickling down his brow, and his naked torso was covered in blood.

Most worryingly, however, was that the man still seemed very much awake and in pain.

“Smith!” John whispered angrily to his assistant. “I thought I said Mr Sholmes was to be given anaesthetic immediately!”

“He was, sir.” Kirsten Smith answered with hesitation. “But it doesn’t seem to have had any effect. In his stories, he’s said to drink a copious amount of coffee, so we think that might be the cause. But he’s unable to talk and is in more pain than before, if anything.”

“Then just give him some more, damn it!” John cried. “I can’t operate on a screaming patient. And while we wait, clean him down so I can actually see the wound.”

Kirsten looked unsure. “Yes, Doctor.”

She picked up a wet cloth and was about to wipe away some of the blood on his stomach, but as soon she made contact with his skin, a terrible scream tore itself out of Sholmes’s throat.

For the first time in his long career, John began to panic.

What if the man truly was immune to anaesthesia? It would take them hours to clean the wound as it was, let alone begin to operate- which itself was likely to take hours.

The Great Detective let out another guttural scream as Kirsten attempted to dab at the other side of his torso, and thrashed violently against the restraints on the operating table.

John winced.

This was going to be a very long, painful night for Mr Sholmes.

(John Serr. Surgeon. Get it? Did I do Capcom proud?)

Thanks for reading!

[makebank]

Chocolate chip: Kisses that get interrupted with JJ please❤️❤️❤️

thanks anon for sending this in!! sorry it took so long got busy this weekend

875 words its a lil long for a blurb but oh well. Warnings: cussing, but pretty fluff i think

You were lazily lying on the wrinkled sheets of JJ’s room at the chateau. One leg dangling off the bed and your head propped up on a pillow. JJ, your newly explored crush, towered over you. He held his body up resting on his elbows as his blond strands of hair tickled your forehead. Recently, after some time pinning and flirting with one another the feisty boy mentioned nonchalantly that he had feelings for you. You had to contain yourself as to not to scare him with his known flighty nature. You knew it took a lot for him to disclose his feelings, even though it didn’t seem like much. You were ready to explore him and break down his sturdy walls that had been building for some time. For now, you two were still in the new stages, not officially anything.

After climbing on top of you, he started to tease you about the movie you picked. You scoffed at the boy but ultimately couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. He was staring down at your lips as you stopped, and then looked into your eyes as if asking for permission. He took his chance when you smirked at his unasked question. He surged his face inches closer to connect his lips with yours. You lifted your arm off the bed to slide it onto his defined jaw, holding him into place. Then you eased it to the back of his neck, playing with his wild locks. Feeling comfortable with the rhythm that was set, his tongue started to enter your willing mouth.

“Hey JJ, can you text your dealer for me?” Kie pushed into the room, eyes still on her phone. She looked up when she heard JJ grunt at her. “Oh shit, my bad guys” she giggled and ran out.

JJ was less than thrilled to say the least. He rolled his eyes at why he was being interrupted for something she could do on her own. He pushed it from his mind, since he wanted to get back to kissing his girl, or almost girl?

You honestly thought it was funny. The pogues were still getting used to the two of you sneaking off together. You bit your lip to keep from laughing at JJ’s exasperated look. “Where were we?” he smirked before diving back into your lips. The kiss started to deepen as your tongues slipped in and out of the other’s mouth. It became more needy. Then you heard heavy footsteps coming down the hallway before the door was thrown open again.

“Dude what is Kie laughing at so hard? She sounds like she’s going to injure her larynx… Oh. I see. Oops” Pope’s sudden realization makes JJ chuck a spare pillow at his head. “Get the fuck out Pope” JJ yells which causes more chuckles to be released from the dying seal in the other room, known as Kie. “S-sorry man” Pope apologizes as he exits actually looking more humiliated than you felt.

“No privacy here. I’m sorry. Want to continue?” JJ eagerly asks. You nod your head in approval. You both pick up right where you left off not letting the distractions ruin the heated moment. This time JJ’s hand slid down your waist to the hem of your pants and gave your hip a squeeze. Just as he was sliding his hand up your shirt, you both heard the familiar slam of the front door and groaned. It was starting to be annoying. Moments later the final member of the pogues entered the bedroom without knocking.

“JJ have you seen my yellow bandana?” John. B innocently asked but was met with glares. “Seriously? Did the two out there send you in here? And why in the hell would I know where your shit is” JJ looked at him as if it was the dumbest question ever. “No one is here but us. Sorry though” John. B confessed confused about what the riled-up blond was getting at. “Whatever, just get out” “So, you haven’t seen it?” “Out!” JJ shouted as the door shut again.

He turned back to you dragging his hand down his face as he was fed up. The blue eyes that were almost black moments ago were now tiny pins from his anger constricting them.

You reached your hand to his cheek softening his features and relieving some of his tension. “Hey it’s okay JJ. We can continue this tonight at my house. My parents aren’t home” you reassured with a wiggle of your eyebrows. He smirked back at you, raising his eyebrows in surprise at your forwardness. “Fine” he pretended to be annoyed.

Your lips brushed his for a moment as a quick ending to your almost make out session. “C’mon let’s go find those losers.” You jumped out of the bed and reached out for his hand to take. “They’re probably outside of the door already,” he joked, placing his hand in yours.

The two of you walked into an empty house, and then decided to check outside. To no one’s surprise the pogues were swinging in the hammock. They all erupted into a fit of laughter, almost crying, at the site of you and JJ walking towards them.

[katzenkrieg]

Reposting because the DE fic writing server reminded me that I can totally go back and change my own canon if I feel like it, so I went back to tweak an earlier story (”Pride”) to not make it explicit if Kim’s had top surgery yet or not, so *this* story can imply something I wanted it to imply but was prevented from by my own canon (oops). The only change to “Pockets” is in the notes.

875 words of cute fluff, not shippy but could be read pre-shippy.

You can read this as cis!Kim but I intended it as transmasc!Kim.

[bnha-mha-imagines]

Hey cutie ;) hows it going?? Could I please get a little drabble or some headcanons for Kiri and his s/o going to the mountains for a little get away? Maybe some hiking, cuddling by the fire, stumbling across a little hot spring? (I'm a sucker for the cliches, sorry) Whatever you feel most inspired by is fine with me!

Hey Shay, my buddy ol’ pal! ;) I looooooved this little trade, it was so fun! And I seriously adored the prompt, it hit me right in the aesthetic haha! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this little drabble of you and your sweetheart~ hehe

Kirishima x Reader

Word Count: 875

Warnings: Oop, like a little spicy...

--

“Kirishima,” you groaned, wasting the little breath you had left to speak his name. It was harder to breathe in the higher altitude, and already your legs were beginning to ache in exhaustion. You’d been hiking for nearly three hours now, yet Kirishima seemed to be an endless source of energy. Save for the layer of sweat on his skin and the slight labor of his breath, he was just as spirited as he was when you first started the hike. 

“Come on, (Y/n), just another mile or two back to the cabin!” he grinned at you, encouraging you to push on for the last stretch. The two of you had decided to rent a small, private, modern-styled cabin in the mountains for the next four days to spend some quality time together. You’d been dating for roughly a year now, but you both live such busy lives; so, you figured a relaxing vacation together would do some good.

Though, it didn’t feel so good in your glutes right about now. “Kirishima, I’m going to die,” you whined, exhausted. Needing a break, you plopped down on the nearest log, conveniently placed as a gift from the universe. Hearing you, Kirishima looked over his shoulder, an amused smile forming at your theatrics. “Right here,” you sighed, trying to catch your breath. “Here is where I die. On the mountain side where no one will find me and no one will mourn me.”

Laughing, Kirishima backtracked to crouch down by you. “Always so dramatic,” he smiled. “And like hell I’m gonna let you die. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” He winked, and though you wanted to laugh you could only give him a tired smile. From your backpack, you pulled out your water bottle and tossed him his own. The ambience of the wooded mountainside was calming as you took your break, listening to the birdsong. 

Once you were hydrated and could breathe properly, Kirishima leaned forward to kiss your hair. “Right, come on,” he said, rising. Before you could protest, however, he bent down slightly, his back to you and arms ready to catch you. 

“K-Kiri, there’s no way you can carry me and a backpack down a mile and a half of mountainside,” you said, reasonably. But, your stubborn boyfriend shook his head, smiling. 

“Come on babe, what kind of man would I be if I couldn’t even take care of you when you need it? Have a little faith in me and hop on up!”

Swallowing, you rise to your feet and swing the backpack on. Placing your hands on Kirishima’s shoulders, you jump up and curve your legs onto his hips. You feel his strong arms catch your legs, holding you up as you wrap your arms around him. Resituating you into a better grip, Kirishima started to move down the path as if you were weightless. 

A little embarrassed but grateful to rest your legs for the rest of the hike, you rest your head into the crook of his neck, pressing a kiss onto his skin. You hear Kirishima make a small sound of amusement before he quiets, the sound of his boots filling the silence. The hike back to the cabin lacked any conversation, the two of you enjoying one another’s company in a comfortable silence. 

Reaching the front door of the cabin, Kirishima gently slides you down off his back. Your legs were heavy against the ground, but you felt in much better shape thanks to the piggy back ride. Unlocking the door, you both file in and dump your things on the floor. Beautiful, dabbled light shined through the wall of windows to your left, and you couldn’t help but admire the giant conifer trees that were visible through the glass. 

Looking to Kirishima who was untying his hiking boots, you sighed happily. Out in the wilderness mountains with such a loving and tender man… how did you ever get so lucky? “I’m going to go shower up,” you tell him, walking towards the bathroom door. You hear him hum in acknowledgement, and you pause right at the frame of the door. 

“You know,” you start, slowly. It catches his attention, and as he looks up at you your hands start to tantalizingly lift up your shirt over your head. “You take such good care of me.” You didn’t miss how his eyes widen slightly when you remove your shirt. “Maybe if you hurry, I can take care of you too…” Slipping into the bathroom, you take off the rest of your clothes, giggling slightly as you hear Kirishima fumbling to get his shoes off fast enough. 

Stepping into the shower, you release a pleasant sigh as the hot stream of water hits your skin. You hear the door crack open, and peek your head out from the tinted glass of the shower to look at him. Seeing him hesitate slightly, you smile. “Come on babe, what kind of girl would I be if I couldn’t even take care of you when you need it?” Hearing your teasing replay of his words seemed to relieve him of any sort of shyness, and Kirishima quickly started to unbuckle his pants so he could join you.

[onlycags]

Pro Footballer | Çağlar Söyüncü

Request: Could you maybe do one where you’re a professional soccer player and you dating cags and you just won a big game and just celebrate together

*whoops got a bit carried away - I can definitely make this fluffier if you want, but it’s more smut than fluff at this point ;)* 875 words oops

- - -

“What another beautiful save by [Y/F/N] [Y/L/N]! I swear, this girl just keeps getting better and better!” The announcer said on the telly as Çağlar watched you save yet another shot.

“If the score remains as-is, the Leicester City women will be walking away with their seventh straight win,” the second announcer commented.

“Don’t forget: it’ll be [Y/L/N]’s tenth clean sheet of the season, too.”

“I must say, I was surprised when the FA Women’s National League had announced that they would be expanding to a team in Leicester, but this team has been absolutely phenomenal in their debut season.”

Çağlar smiled to himself, proud of you. It was one of those matchdays where neither of you could be there for each other - his match at King Power was earlier in the day, while you had to be at Meadow Park long before his match would be over.

~~~

The match ends 3-0 against Arsenal, your team’s seventh straight win and your tenth clean sheet of the season. It’s an amazing feeling, and you’re a little sad that your boyfriend couldn’t make it, but that’s to be expected when you’re both professional footballers.

On the bus ride back to Leicester, you’re alternating between celebrating the win and texting Çağlar. The girls want to go out, but you want to stay in. As team captain, you begrudgingly agree to go out for a couple hours, knowing that the camaraderie off the pitch is just as important.

~~~

You get back to the flat you share with Çağlar, eager to see him. The door slams shut behind you and you giggle, still a little tipsy from the girls’ night. It’s only 9pm and you’re horny.

“Babe?” You call out, kicking off your heels, groaning at the heavenly feeling of no longer being 6’2” in them, instead coming back down to your normal 5’11”.

There’s no response, so you shrug to yourself in the darkness, making your way to the kitchen to grab some aspiring and water for the hangover you’re sure to have tomorrow. And, you’re absolutely starving.

You’re digging around in the refrigerator when two strong arms wrap around your middle, a kiss pressed to the nape of your neck. “Hey, love,” Çağlar whispers, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“Hi,” you respond softly, a smile on your face.

“You were amazing out there,” he says, leading you away from the refrigerator. “I wish I could have seen you play in person.”

“You’ll make the next one. I wish I could’ve seen you play today,” you respond, turning around and running a finger down the centre of his bare chest.

He kisses you softly, each kiss hungrier and needier until he’s picking you up and leading you to the bedroom. You let out a soft grunt of pain as your hip lands on the bed. You pull your dress up over your head, not missing the way Çağlar’s gaze roams over your body, cataloguing your bruises from the day’s match.

He starts with the biggest bruise, the one on your hip that goes halfway down your thigh. His touch is featherlight as his lips graze over the sensitive skin. You lay back, letting him take care of you. The both of you put your bodies on the line for the game, but you always come away with more battle wounds, literally throwing yourself to the ground and in front of bodies in order to prevent goals - ten clean sheets came with a price. Çağlar admitted to you once that it scares him whenever someone from the opposing team gets close to you; it’s why he takes his time with you after every match, kissing each cut and bruise, reassuring himself that you’re okay.

He kisses the two-week-old bruise on your right side, the by-product of a low kick to the right corner that had you stretching across the goal to barely block the shot. His hands are on it now, and you place one of yours over his, applying a little pressure. You moan as a dull pain courses through your veins, getting off on the sensation. His eyes darken and he smiles wickedly as the temperature in the room kicks up a few degrees.

The two of you like inflicting pain upon the other, always knowing just how far you can push the other person without having to use your safewords. His fingers apply pressure to the yellow-brown bruises on your forearms as he restrains your hands above your head. You gasp as his other hand finds your clit, arching your back into his touch. “Çağlar,” you whine, wiggling your hips in a desperate attempt to orgasm, “fuck me, please.”

He kisses you deeply, giving in to your plea easily. He sinks into you, both of you moaning at the feeling of him inside of you. He sucks a nipple into his mouth, lightly biting the hard bud to make you whimper.

You scream his name as you cum, your blunt nails leaving scratches down his back and shoulders. He follows seconds later, kissing you roughly.

~~~

The next morning is lazy, the two of you sleeping late, enjoying the day-after a match that always seems to feel a little endless.

[no-fate-but-what-we-make]

Could you maybe do one where you’re a professional soccer player and you dating cags and you just won a big game and just celebrate together

*whoops got a bit carried away - I can definitely make this fluffier if you want, but it’s more smut than fluff at this point ;)* 875 words oops

Taglist: @chilly-me-softly ; @savingprivatecass

“What another beautiful save by [Y/F/N] [Y/L/N]! I swear, this girl just keeps getting better and better!” The announcer said on the telly as Çağlar watched you save yet another shot.

“If the score remains as-is, the Leicester City women will be walking away with their seventh straight win,” the second announcer commented.

“Don’t forget: it’ll be [Y/L/N]’s tenth clean sheet of the season, too.”

“I must say, I was surprised when the FA Women’s National League had announced that they would be expanding to a team in Leicester, but this team has been absolutely phenomenal in their debut season.”

Çağlar smiled to himself, proud of you. It was one of those matchdays where neither of you could be there for each other - his match at King Power was earlier in the day, while you had to be at Meadow Park long before his match would be over.

~~~

The match ends 3-0 against Arsenal, your team’s seventh straight win and your tenth clean sheet of the season. It’s an amazing feeling, and you’re a little sad that your boyfriend couldn’t make it, but that’s to be expected when you’re both professional footballers.

On the bus ride back to Leicester, you’re alternating between celebrating the win and texting Çağlar. The girls want to go out, but you want to stay in. As team captain, you begrudgingly agree to go out for a couple hours, knowing that the camaraderie off the pitch is just as important. 

~~~

You get back to the flat you share with Çağlar, eager to see him. The door slams shut behind you and you giggle, still a little tipsy from the girls’ night. It’s only 9pm and you’re horny.

“Babe?” You call out, kicking off your heels, groaning at the heavenly feeling of no longer being 6’2” in them, instead coming back down to your normal 5’11”. 

There’s no response, so you shrug to yourself in the darkness, making your way to the kitchen to grab some aspiring and water for the hangover you’re sure to have tomorrow. And, you’re absolutely starving.

You’re digging around in the refrigerator when two strong arms wrap around your middle, a kiss pressed to the nape of your neck. “Hey, love,” Çağlar whispers, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“Hi,” you respond softly, a smile on your face.

“You were amazing out there,” he says, leading you away from the refrigerator. “I wish I could have seen you play in person.”

“You’ll make the next one. I wish I could’ve seen you play today,” you respond, turning around and running a finger down the centre of his bare chest.

He kisses you softly, each kiss hungrier and needier until he’s picking you up and leading you to the bedroom. You let out a soft grunt of pain as your hip lands on the bed. You pull your dress up over your head, not missing the way Çağlar’s gaze roams over your body, cataloguing your bruises from the day’s match.

He starts with the biggest bruise, the one on your hip that goes halfway down your thigh. His touch is featherlight as his lips graze over the sensitive skin. You lay back, letting him take care of you. The both of you put your bodies on the line for the game, but you always come away with more battle wounds, literally throwing yourself to the ground and in front of bodies in order to prevent goals - ten clean sheets came with a price. Çağlar admitted to you once that it scares him whenever someone from the opposing team gets close to you; it’s why he takes his time with you after every match, kissing each cut and bruise, reassuring himself that you’re okay.

He kisses the two-week-old bruise on your right side, the by-product of a low kick to the right corner that had you stretching across the goal to barely block the shot. His hands are on it now, and you place one of yours over his, applying a little pressure. You moan as a dull pain courses through your veins, getting off on the sensation. His eyes darken and he smiles wickedly as the temperature in the room kicks up a few degrees. 

The two of you like inflicting pain upon the other, always knowing just how far you can push the other person without having to use your safewords. His fingers apply pressure to the yellow-brown bruises on your forearms as he restrains your hands above your head. You gasp as his other hand finds your clit, arching your back into his touch. “Çağlar,” you whine, wiggling your hips in a desperate attempt to orgasm, “fuck me, please.”

He kisses you deeply, giving in to your plea easily. He sinks into you, both of you moaning at the feeling of him inside of you. He sucks a nipple into his mouth, lightly biting the hard bud to make you whimper. 

You scream his name as you cum, your blunt nails leaving scratches down his back and shoulders. He follows seconds later, kissing you roughly.

~~~

The next morning is lazy, the two of you sleeping late, enjoying the day-after a match that always seems to feel a little endless.

[misty--nights]

Femslash February Day Five - Note

I was in an agsty mood when writing this. Oops. But also, yay, I'm posting this on the 5th and not a day later! Finally getting my shit together, it seems.

All the Letters That I Have Never Sent

Fandom: Agent Carter Pairing: Peggy Carter/Angie Martinelli Words: 875 Summary: Angie has a box of secrets

Read on AO3 here