#here's hoping it wins player's voice!!!!

[tomaturtles]

I've beaten Frontiers twice and it's still not enough

[merrinla]

Portrait spamming

Recent discovery. If you click on the portraits of the characters like crazy, they will react to it. And the developers had a lot of fun coding these reactions xD

Tav / Dark Urge

normal - I'm awake! Mostly. - I'm starting to get a headache. - Must be the tadpole. - Quit knocking around in there! - A thousand needlepricks in my rotten skull.

combat -Ahhhhhhhh! Okay, I feel better. - I have an itch in the worst place. - Is being a mind flayer so bad? - Just waiting to venture forth here. - I'm maiming as fast as I can!

stealth - What's that ticking? - Is it me? Am I ticking? - Bomb in my head about to go off. Great. - Ah, well. I had a good run.

Astarion

normal - Why do beautiful people taste better? It hardly seems fair on the ugly - they have such wonderful personalities. - Ugh. Strahd wouldn't put up with this shit. - More like Drizzt Don't'Urden - no. No that's not funny. - Villains! Dissemble no more, I admit the deed! Tear up the floor - here, here! It is the beating of his hideous hea- oh, no, that's his brain. Where did I leave that heart?

combat: - I'm trying to focus on murder. - *Humming.* - I shot a svirfneblin in Menzoberranzan just to watch him die. - I should've been a drow. They have such stylish armour.

stealth - Shhh. Just think sneaky thoughts. - Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP. - Be very, very quiet - I'm hunting idiots. - I've got a brand new torture chamber, so come and play with me.

Karlach

normal - NOTE TO ACTOR/DIRECTOR: Blow a raspberry at the player. - Don't. Poke. The Karlach. - Who am I? - My eye!

combat - Eyes on the prize - we need to win this! - Not every soldier should've made it out of training. - Eyes on victory, tummy on dinner. - I ought to just burn this whole thing down.

stealth - My back can't take much more of this. - Not now, I'm being a sneak! - I'm getting too old for this nonsense. - I'm not built to crouch.

Gale

normal - I hope Halaster takes good care of Tara while I'm away. - Sembian wine; Cormyrian boar; Waterdhavian conversation. It's the little things you miss while on the road. - Oh, what a tangled Weave we web! - All the world's my stage and you're just a player in it.

combat - Just go for the Magic Missile and fire away. Never fails. - Don't make me go all Edwin Odesseiron on you. - Get. Out. Of. My. Head. - I really wish I could cast a Hold spell on you.

stealth - You made me hide, don't make me come seek you. - Gods, it's like trying to sleep with a mosquito in the room. - A little privacy please. - Stop it - that tickles.

Wyll

normal - Could do for a brew. - Where there's a 'Wyll', there's a 'y'. - Ever get the sense that someone's watching? - So two halflings walk under a bar...

combat - Can't hear myself think! - Wear your scars proudly. - As my father once told me: 'Can we get on with it?' - I find moderation is key.

stealth - Bad time for an itch. - Could do for a brew. - So two halflings walk under a bar... - Shush. No, really. Shush.

Lae'zel

normal - Must everyone be so exhausting? - Weapons high. Standards higher. - Is perfection too much to ask? - Pride is a virtue.

combat - I will know my queen! - There is no right or wrong, only truth. - What is the point, if not victory? - You are right to fear me.

stealth - Hush already. - There is no wisdom in madness. - Is perfection too much to ask? - There is but one way. Vlaakith.

Shadowheart

all modes - I wonder how I'll feel when I remember everything. - Strange. I've had more freedom this past while than my whole life... - Have to keep focused. Can't afford to get attached - to anyone. - If I succeed, maybe I'll be allowed a pet... ugh, stop being silly.

Halsin / his voice is currently bugged :(

normal - What I would not give for a chunk of fresh honeycomb... - Such attention... I never realised I was so popular. - Are you feeling lonely, perhaps? - Unwise, perhaps, to poke a bear this much...

сombat - Battle is afoot - you can poke me once we are safe. - Perhaps try attacking the enemy? - Admirable stamina, yet terrible priorities. - You are insistent, are you not?

stealth - Most consider it unwise to poke a bear. - My, you are eager, are you not? - Please. I am trying to be stealthy. - Calm yourself. There is plenty of me to go around.

Jaheira

normal - Oh, calm down. I'm happy to see you too. - I would poke you back, but I fear that's what you want. - My, such strong wrists. - Well you certainly have the 'omnipresent' part down, don't you? - Please go poke the ranger instead.

combat - You have my attention - now do something with it. - What? What do you want!? - Do you know, I begin to wish they had never brought me back. - Yes, yes, have your fun. It isn't you they're trying to kill.

stealth - Dry those sweaty palms and let us try this again, shall we? - Argh, my knees! Oh. It was a twig. - Would that I could hide from you, too. - Careful, or I will take your toy away from you.

Minsc

normal - ARGH! My EYE, Boo! They went for my EYE! - Know that if you poke Boo, no higher dimension will keep you safe! - Heehee. Heeheeheehee. - Well, Boo? How do you want to do this?

сombat - Are you perchance a squeaky wheel in need of a kick? - I am armed! Armoured! And entirely sick of your foolishness. - I begin to grow annoyed. It is well for you that Boo does not let me learn the bad words! - Ignore them, Boo. Let them gaze deep into their own abyss, and wonder just what it is they are trying to achieve.

stealth - A little to the left? But not so hard you make me giggle. - Boo...? Are you dancing down there, or...? - Hush! I am surprising Boo for his birthday! He is... uh... eh... how old do hamsters get...? - I am the night. A pity, then, that it is so bright out.

Minthara

all modes - You had my attention, now you have my fury. - Phlar Lolth ssinssrickla. - Your suffering will be spectacular. - Stop, or die.

[earthtooz]

fluff, apologising and making up after a 'fight' kind of drabble bc i miss suna <3

suna rintarou shows up to your university on the third day of the silent treatment.

the sight is a surprise, to say the least. your pro-volleyball player boyfriend standing outside your faculty’s building with his hands in his pockets, blending in with baggy jeans, a hoodie, and a cap. he looks the part of a university student, but you could never be fooled, not when he's 6'3 with an equally admirable stature from exercising.

amongst the crowd of outflowing students, the dark-haired spots you, olive eyes widening upon seeing you. he pushes himself onto two feet before walking over to where you stay rooted, dodging the students who just came out of the same lecture.

“hi,” suna greets, stopping just a few feet away from you. the sight of his lopsided smile is enough to get your heart racing again. you've missed him so much.

regardless, you cross your arms to keep up an angry front, not wanting to give in to his charms just yet no matter how good he may he at using them. 

“what are you doing here?” you ask bluntly, betraying the butterflies in your stomach.

his expression doesn’t falter at your iciness. “not happy to see me?”

you are happy to see him, very much so, especially when he has taken the initiative of literally showing up at your campus and waiting for your classes to be over to see you. he must be tired from practice as well and you know too well that mondays were never kind to him. 

so the fact that suna came all this way for you makes you feel a little special. 

he’s even wearing some of that cologne that you really like and unless it’s for special occasions, you know that your boyfriend is never bothered enough to wear any fragrance. he is so sly that you could kiss him.

“not particularly, suna.” you say in response, lying through your teeth.

suna clutches his chest like he’s been shot, making a gasp of offence at your statement. “babe, after i came all the way to campus? i thought i’d never want to come back here but i made some exceptions for the love of my life and this is what i get in return?” 

“suck it up, i guess.”

“-and who on earth is suna? never heard of him. can’t believe you’ve already forgotten my name after three days, i’m losing sight of reality, babe hold me, i might faint.”

“whatever,” you chuckle a little at his antics, eyes softening with a certain fondness that suna doesn’t miss. his lips twitch upwards at the sight of it.

this is his chance to win you back. he throws his line in in hopes of catching you hook and sinker. 

“let’s go to dinner tonight,” he offers, recovering from his previously downed position, voice contrastingly soft and gentle to smoothen his proposal. 

“what, so you can stand me up again?” you quip, instantly slicing the atmosphere to turn tense as the line snaps in half.

suna’s grin falls, morphing into a guilty frown. “c’mon pretty, that’s mean. you know how sorry i am, i didn’t mean to forget about our plans.”

you huff, letting your arms fall back to your sides. “i know, i know, but you standing me up just stung. it was frustrating because i made time for us that i could have used to study with instead,” you confess. “you know how stressed i’ve been with finals.”

the athlete stuffs his hands into his pockets awkwardly. “but i’m trying to make up for it.” 

“i know and i appreciate it, but now’s not a good time. i’m sorry but i can’t go to dinner tonight or any time soon, i have a bunch of practice tests to do that i can’t keep putting off.”

“then can i come over?” asks suna, a hopeful lilt to his voice.

“and watch me study? do you really want that?”

“i just want to be with you, i can order us takeout or something- on me.”

“guess i’m just irresistible, huh?”

“duh, do you know how much i suffered during the weekend? missed you so much, practically died from boredom.”

“oh so i’m just another person for you to bother? is that how it is?” you ask, unable to contain your smile. 

the dark-haired scoffs. “c’mon babes, you know you’re better than that. you’re the only person i can bother.”

“oh fuck off,” you whack his shoulder teasingly. “also for your information, you’re not coming between me and my education.”

“ambitious people are a turn-on,” he mutters with a shrug before pulling you in to kiss your cheek.

“ew get off me, freak,” you joke whilst shoving him, not rough enough to actually create distance but suna still stands his ground from the force. his hand goes to hold your other cheek as he smothers you with over-exaggerated affection. 

you laugh in his hold, holding on to his wrists for balance. “suna!” you yelp when he pushes too much weight onto you, causing the two of you to stumble sideways. “actually get off me.”

“can’t. won’t. don’t want to. this is what you get for not responding to me all weekend- what does  a man need to do to get a text back from the love of his life?” 

“easy. be a man.” you step out of his grasp with a satisfied smirk, beginning to walk away from your boyfriend who stares at you with his mouth hung open in disbelief. inevitably, suna runs up to you.

and as he encases you with his arms in the middle of the empty gardens of your university faculty, you know that the two of you will be okay. even if suna is the bane of your existence, there is no one else for you like him. 

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[shotoh]

— in which they slowly find themselves enamored by the natural charms of their interviewer

feat. itoshi rin, nagi seishiro, itoshi sae

cw + tw. nothing much just fluff, fem!reader, interviewer/reporter!reader, aged-up!characters, characters are professional athletes and continue playing in their teams from the neo egoist league (except sae)

notes. first time posting blue lock so apologies if anyone’s ooc, either way i might make a follow-up of this (that might be more uh ya know) and/or add characters

ITOSHI RIN

the sound that follows the harsh slam of his locker is a frustrating sigh that has been simmering in rin’s chest since the end of today’s match. the match in which he had lost—and at the hands of isagi’s team which makes the defeat all the more bitter and disgusting on his tongue. it didn’t help that during the game, he was butting heads with his supposed teammate, shidou. once the coach had decided to sub the eccentric player in, their styles began mixing like oil and water. as a result, their win was swooped up from under them.

pxg has been called to host a post-sport interview to review the match with reporters, but rin couldn’t care less to participate. instead, he’s the very last person to leave the locker rooms. his duffle bag is slung over his shoulder, steps ambling down the hallway.

whether he wins or loses, rin never bothers to attend these post-game interviews. he doesn’t need to sit there and have brash reporters shoot the same questions at him, expecting him to “thank his coach and teammates,” “praise his opponents for a great game today,” and say he’ll “continue to work hard to win next time.” gross. he’d rather be caught dead than have any of those words leave his mouth.

as rin navigates through the hallways of the stadium, he’s hoping to be done with the day and think over the turn of events on his own. but when he rounds the corner, he crosses eyes with someone so obviously lost in the facility—a mistake which punishes him as you immediately approach him with doe, bewildered eyes.

“sorry, i don’t mean to bother you, but i was wondering where the conference for pxg was being held,” you ask. a pad of notes are cradled in your arms, pen clipped to the breast pocket of your blazer. it’s clear you’re another reporter.

before he can point you in the right direction to get you out of his hair, you squint. you’re taking a long, hard look at him until your face suddenly glows. “wait, you’re itoshi rin, the striker for pxg!” you practically blurt. with the volume of your voice, rin’s instincts take hold, and he’s pulling you away from the open space of the hallway.

“quiet. you want everyone to hear?” rin chastises.

“whoops. i got a little excited! i-i’ve been wanting to interview pxg’s top player and well…” you could say the opportunity presented itself, but rin makes it clear he’s not interested.

“if you’re here just to hear me mope over my loss, then go home,” the striker affirms to what he thinks will be the last of this exchange until you tug on the sleeve of his jersey before he starts walking away. turning his head back to glance at you, his brow quirks.

“no, of course not! i thought it was incredible how you were able to keep control of the ball from your opponents and even score the first two points of the game all by yourself!” you exclaim, face lifting as it’s teeming with admiration. surprisingly, he can’t help but be a bit amused by the determined expression etched over the perplexed look that was originally on your features.

you swipe your pen hanging off your pocket, prompting it open with a click of your thumb. “and i’m sure a lot of your fans would love to hear from you!”

the athlete cocks his head. “you’re acting like a fan yourself, miss reporter.”

you blink in surprise. the enthusiasm in your words tones down, but you fail to mask it completely. “what? no, i’m just here to get the exclusive on the best athletes of our country!” if your plan is to butter him up to get a word out of him, it may almost work. you send him another fawning look as if to say “can you blame me though?” and that stirs a low chuckle from his throat.

his face lowers until it’s slightly more leveled with your own, and from this angle, you’re amazed to find you can distinguish every distinct eyelash on his pretty face. and you’re even more enamored by the intense color of his teal eyes. at the proximity, however, your face bathes in the heat of the blood rushing to your cheeks. thankfully, the striker breaks eye contact in favor of taking the notepad from your arms, along with your pen which he uses to scribble something down.

“tell you what,” he says as he continues writing, “come to the next pxg match and i’ll give you an exclusive interview, right after i score at least four goals and decimate the other team.”

his declaration leaves you in awe, and your fascination persists when he hands your pen and pad back for you to see a ten digit number, followed by call my manager written next to it.

NAGI SEISHIRO

back when he was in school, nagi was never great at first impressions. and apparently that’s still the case even later on in his career as a professional striker.

he doesn’t even notice you enter the room as he’s preoccupied with tapping the controls for the first person shooter on his phone. as such, he’s woefully unprepared to hear the reluctant, but soft voice that vies for his attention.

“um, excuse me. if you don’t mind, i’d like to get started with the interview.”

taking a slow glimpse above his screen, he sees the refreshing sight of you—his interviewer—sitting across from him in your neat attire and a clipboard on your lap. surprised by the modest smile that greets him, he automatically straightens up and casts his phone to the side.

it’s a big contrast to what he was expecting. usually, scruffy men who claim they’re adept and knowledgeable in the sport would be shoving their mics in his face. when in reality those people are just washed up high school coaches or analysts who act all high and mighty by asking a bunch of nonsense questions. saying this and that about how they would have done it differently had they been in the game instead of him. regardless, they’re such a pain and nagi would rather be napping in his cloud mattress than go through another talk session with those wannabes. however, his encounter with you just might break this boring streak.

he rubs the back of his head sheepishly, playing off the crass first impression. “right. start whenever you want.”

once he gives you the go ahead, you flip through a few pages to your questions.

as time goes on, the sentiment nagi initially held about how the interview might have been a pain and a waste of his time in his already packed schedule begins to sway. throughout the inquiries, he finds himself fixated on you. like the flattering nude color touched up on your plush lips. or how you have a habit of playing with strands of your hair when contemplating on what question to ask next. or the cute laugh you let out that was pleasant to his ears when he gave a much more aloof answer than you were expecting.

well, he can’t change the fact that he doesn’t need to think much when it comes to football. that’s just how naturally talented he is—the sport is second nature to him. honestly, he’s a bit bummed out that he can’t give a competent interviewer like you better responses.

what catches the snowy haired striker slightly off-guard is your next topic of questions about his e-sport endorsements. he wasn’t expecting you to delve into his hobbies. most interviews always glossed over that area in favor of asking something along the lines of “what was going through your head when you made that winning goal,” to which he could only say he was too caught up in the moment to really convey the feelings into words.

but with this opportunity, nagi goes on a mild tangent about the new first person shooter he’s been playing. even if his tone sounds indifferent on the surface, you don’t miss the hidden enthusiasm under the brighter twinkle of his eyes. you giggle which makes nagi pause.

“did i say something weird?” he asks back. you swear you detect a tonal whine in his voice, another endearing trait you didn’t know a 190 cm striker could possess.

“no.. just find it cute how much you can talk about your favorite games like that.”

nagi can’t tell whether the grin on your pretty lips is there to tease him or that you find his boyish charms endearing. either way, his cheeks puff and that only serves to make him more adorable in your eyes.

“well don’t let me stop you! i’d like to hear more about what things interest you other than soccer.” the look on your face fascinates him. you’re not even looking at your clipboard anymore, but right at him. it’s the tell-tale sign of someone who genuinely wants to know him not as the star player of manshine city, but just as regular nagi seishiro. he’s not used to that sort of treatment and as a result, he can’t meet your eyes, not realizing he flushes a lovely shade of pink that reaches the tips of his ears.

nagi pouts, glancing down at his phone that’s been laying near his thigh, untouched for a record of what must be ages, but that honestly doesn’t feel long enough to him. “no fair… you’re just teasing me…” he murmurs, but his fingers are already itching to ask his manager if he can extend the interview to spend more time with you.

ITOSHI SAE

the first opportunity you get to interview the itoshi sae is unconventional, to say the least.

“excuse me! please let me through–!”

“miss, you can’t be here– hey!”

the setting is chaotic, to the point where sae can make out the commotion in the background as he’s walking toward his rest area with his manager and bodyguard following beside him. when he glimpses at what all the fuss is about, he witnesses security personnel wrangle with a stray reporter.

spotting the reddish haired athlete, you find an opportunity to call out to him. “itoshi sae, please, may i have a word with you?”

to your dismay, security persistently blocks your view of the midfielder. despite being obstructed by a pair of burly men almost twice your size, you give them more of a struggle as you thrash around, even reprimanding them to “keep their hands to themselves if they know what’s good for them.” sae can’t help but be amused. a part of him finds your efforts admirable—watching you scrunch up your uniform and crease your notes at just a chance to speak with him.

“mister itoshi is far too busy to entertain any more of you today. please make your way to the exit–”

“it’s fine,” sae interjects to everyone’s surprise—mostly to the utter astonishment of you and his manager. the latter’s eyes widen scrupulously before he cups his hand next to the pro athlete’s ear.

“sir, i believe we’ll be running late to your next scheduled event if you decide to do a last minute interview,” the manager warns warily. “besides, haven’t you talked to enough of the media today? i mean look at her, she doesn’t even seem worth your time–”

“push everything back thirty minutes if you have to.”

his manager gawks. “but..?!”

one side-eye of sae’s piercing ocean eyes is enough for the man to retract his statement and mumble his apologies. that said and done, the security guards withdraw to let you through. you’re astonished by how much the situation can flip with the cooperation of a renown professional.

sae’s staff lead you into his spacious break room, preparing a set of chairs and leaving glasses of water on the coffee table before you start. having already taken his seat, he watches you run your hands through the wrinkled material of your blouse and pencil skirt. after finally fixing your stray hairs in place, you sit in front of him in all your pristine as if the whole conflict from earlier never happened. he wants to give you another point for professionalism.

“once again, thank you so much for granting me the opportunity to speak to you today,” you beam, mocking his manager hovering in the background with your unbeknownst-to-sae sly little smile.

sae grins, charmed. you arrange your notes one last time before moving onto your questions.

during the interview, sae comes to know your professionalism isn’t merely for show. you’ve done your research, analyzed his plays—his techniques, and as a result, ask him the most intriguing inquiries he’s sure no reporters asked him before. and he’s had his fair share of interviews throughout his developing career as a child prodigy. it’s evident you weren’t planning to waste his time and he’s appreciative of that fact.

there’s also an air of zeal you possess that allures him. he can’t exactly pinpoint what it is. your ingenuity? your liveliness? either way, he can’t imagine this to be his last interaction with you, and he makes sure that won’t be the case.

at just a simple snap of his finger, his manager is at his side. you have to hold in a snicker at how the man scurries over to the midfielder like a dog.

the two exchange a few words you don’t catch, only deciphering the dumbfounded look on the manager’s face which clashes with the stoic expression on sae’s. whatever the conversation was about, the former knows it’s a losing battle. at his loss, he pulls out a lanyard from the compartment attached to his clipboard. he gives it to sae, who takes it and leans across the space between you two to place it in your awaiting hands, as if you already knew from the manager’s defeated mannerisms that it was meant to be yours.

“this is..?” you begin inquiring as you eye the card on the lanyard methodically.

sae beats you to your discovery of that answer. “an exclusive press pass, which you can use to reach out to me again following any matches i’ve played in.”

mouth hanging open, you switch back and forth between the pass and sae’s marine eyes which don’t hold a shred of doubt.

he puts it simply.

“i’d like to continue this interview with you again.”

copyright 2023 shotoh, all rights reserved. i do not allow my creations to be published or translated anywhere else so please do not repost this or share my content on tiktok.

[pucked-bunnie]

and, what about you? ⎜q.hughes

pairings: quinn hughes x reader genre: angst warnings: stressed quinn ⎜over-thinker quinn ⎜ synopsis: everyone knows the captain takes care of everyone, of everything - but who takes care of them? word count: 2.1 k authors note: Quinn was the clear winner of the poll, and this is essentially just filling my need for words of affirmation and how I hope someone takes care of our dear captain, it's a little shorter than normal but i hope you all still enjoy. (UNEDITED)

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The crowd roars as the Canucks win the game - the group of boys flooding the ice to congratulate each other, tapping on helmets as they make their way to the locker room. 

“I’m gonna head down to the locker room, meet you there?” Natalie shouts over the sounds of the blaring alarms and music - you nod quickly, your eyes locked on the captain skating over to his goalie, patting him firmly on the helmet hovering for a few seconds clearly praising Thatcher's game. The two teammates make their way over to the bench, the coach pulling Quinn to the side.

You watch Quinn’s shoulders slump a little and he nods his head, his coach patting him on the shoulder as he lets him walk down the tunnel into the locker room. You say quick goodbyes to the other partners in the area, slinging your bag over your shoulder. 

Your phone dings in your hand, the screen lighting up with a text message. 

quintin 😍: I’m gonna be a little longer than expected, I have to cover Brock's interview. 

pookie ♥️ ️ : Okay, take your time. 

You find a spot beside the entrance to the locker room, pulling out the AirPods tucked into your bag. Knowing Quinn him saying he was going to take longer then expected meant it was going to be over an hour before you would be seeing him. You scroll through your tiktok, making small conversation with the passing players as they join with their families making their own way home. 

Eventually you spot the reporters leaving, a few more team members filing out behind them, the crowds slowly dwindling in the main lobby, though Quinn was nowhere in sight. 

pookie ♥ ️ : everything alright? reporters left twenty minutes ago. 

Your message is seen quickly, the ellipsis popping up into your text thread before disappearing, the cycle repeating a few times before the bubble disappears, no response from Quinn. 

“Hey what are you still doing out here?” A familiar voice says as a body stops in front of you, you glance up at Brock giving him a soft smile as you take out an AirPod. 

“Oh, just waiting for Quinn.” You respond quickly, “He said he was covering interviews, but they left a while ago.” You note softly, Brock tilting his head in confusion. 

“Quinn wasn’t doing interviews tonight.” Brock eyebrows drop in a frown, his eyes darting back to the locker room before back down to you. “No one else is in there, if you wanna head in?” He suggests quietly, patting your shoulder before jogging over to his waiting girlfriend, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as she greets him excitedly. 

You watch them for a few more moments, the happy couple leaving hand in hand before you turn towards the entrance, glancing around as you walk into the large room, it’s easy to spot the captain, his arms resting on his knees, his hockey jersey in the basket in the middle of the room, the rest of his gear still strapped to his body. 

“Babe?” You call softly, taking slow steps towards the deep in thought man, his hand raking through his hair a few more times before you call out for him again, “Quinn?” 

His head snaps up at your voice, his eyes darting around the empty room before focusing on you. “Oh shit.” He curses under his breath, his hand moving to undo the velcro straps of his chest pads. 

“Quinn, are you okay?” You question as you drop on the bench next to him, watching as he rushes to take off his remaining gear. 

“Yeah, of course.” He says quickly, shooting you an apologetic grin as he pulls the pads over his head. “Just got lost in thought.” 

You glance over to Quinn every now and then as he makes quick work of his uniform, pulling on a large hoodie and sweatpants, grabbing his phone and wallet from the shelf of his locker before turning towards you. 

“I’ll shower when I get home.” He promises as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your cheek, his fingers twining with yours as he grips your hand tightly. You wrap your other hand tightly around your joined hands, lifting them to press a kiss against the back of his hand. 

“You played amazing today, Quinn.” You praise, letting your hands drop to swing between the two of you as Quinn leads you both to the garage, pulling his car keys out of his pocket. “I’m so proud of you, you’ve done so much for this team.” You continue, Quinn shaking his head, his hand releasing yours as you both climb into the car. 

“We still have play offs to get through.” Quinn says with a long sigh, his eyes focusing in front of him as he pulls out the parking space, making his way out of the garage. Quinn’s body stays tense as his eyes remain forwards, his focus anywhere but on the way you watch him, your eyes looking over all his signs of discomfort. 

Quinn stays silent for the fifteen minute drive back to your apartment - game nights usually meant your boyfriend stayed at your place, Elias and Quinn enjoying the time apart to wind down. 

You follow behind Quinn as he makes his way to the elevator, his hand not reaching for yours like he normally would, his body pushing him to make it into your cozy apartment. He unlocks your front door with his spare key, dropping the bag from his trunk besides the front door, kicking off his sneakers. 

You sneak in behind him, softly closing the door as he runs his fingers through his hair, his hands rubbing at his face. “Quinn, I want you to answer me honestly.” You begin softly, leaning against the back of your couch, your hand clasped in front of you. “Are you okay?” 

“Huh?” He asks, his hands dropping from his face, “of course I am.” He answers quickly, he tries to smile, to erase your concern, but his smile falters as you remain silent, your brows furrowed in concern. 

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” He says, “I mean I’m living the dream right, playing my favourite sport for a living, captain of the team I’ve played on for six years, we’re going to the playoffs and I’ve got a beautiful girlfriend to top it all off.” He continues his voice carrying a sharp edge to it. 

You continue the silence, hoping that maybe making him face the discomfort will give you a look into his mind. 

“What do you want me to say?” He finally asks, throwing his hands in a shrug. 

“I don’t know… I just want to know what’s going on inside your head.” You respond, “I want to be able to help relieve some of your stress. I wanna be able to take care of you if you’re not feeling great.” You add, watching as Quinn’s mouth drops in a frown. 

“I don’t need you to take care of me.” He snaps, his tone more hostile than expected, your body pushing off the couch as you move to step forwards, your boyfriend taking a step away from you. “I’m supposed to take care of you” He says, pointing towards you for emphasis, “That’s my job. I’m supposed to take care of things at home and at work, that’s what a good leader does.” 

“And, what about you?” You question softly, your arms crossing over your chest, a feeble attempt at trying to keep yourself together. “What about you, Quinn… Who takes care of you?” 

You watch the emotions flash over Quinn’s face whatever facade he had kept going for the past twenty four hours faltering. 

“Babe, you have so much on your plate right now, so much responsibility… let me take some of it, even just for a little while.” 

“Why?” He asks, his voice barely a whisper. 

“Because that’s my job.” You answer, “Because if you’re not going to take care of you, then I will. Because relationships are about lifting each other up but sometimes we just have to catch each other when we fall.” Your words are gentle as you step towards him. 

“Quinn, it’s okay to fall sometimes.” Your heart sinks as you watch his face crumble, a heavy sob escaping his chest as you close the distance, pulling his body to yours. Quinn remains stiff as you wrap your arms around his neck, his face dropping against your shoulder as his body shakes. 

“I’m just so tired.” His voice cracks as he speaks, finally his arms moving to constrict around your waist, your body the only thing grounding him. “I feel like I can’t breathe.” Another round of choked sobs rip from him, one of your hands gently soothing over his back, the other smoothing the back of his head. 

“You’re going to be okay.” You coo, your throat constricting as you swallow down your own tears, your heart cracking in two at the state of your boyfriend, the hurt in his voice. 

The two of you remain in the lounge room, your arms wrapped around each other, stuck in a standstill as Quinn lets out everything that had been weighing him down, his sobs slowly turning into sniffles, his arms squeezing around you when you move to step back. 

“No.” He grumbles. 

“Come with me.” You whisper, finally detaching him from you, your hands grabbing his as you pull him towards the couch, you take your spot lying down on the cushions before motioning for him to follow. Quinn seems hesitant at first, his breathing shallow before he nods joining you on the couch, his body thrown over yours, his head pressed against your chest as you resume your ministrations on his back, drawing soft shapes against his jumper. 

“Share something with me.” You say, “Give me something to hold onto for you for a little while.” 

“Like what?” He speaks against your shirt, the words muffled slightly by the fabric. 

“Anything.” He takes a deep breath at your words. 

“Rick said something to me today.” He starts, you nod slowly recounting the coach pulling the young captain aside, your hand raises to the collar of Quinn’s hoodie softly slipping under the fabric to continue your soothing on his skin. “He said he was proud of me.” 

Your movements pause, waiting for Quinn to elaborate. 

“He said that he couldn’t think of a better leader for the team, and that he knew that I was going to take us further than anyone imagined.” Quinn lets out a long sigh, “I just can’t find it in me to believe him.” Your eyebrows raise at his comment, your head tilting as you consider what to say. 

“You’re not proud of yourself?” 

“I don’t know.” He mumbles back. “I know I should be, but a part of me just feels like I haven’t done enough, like I haven’t achieved enough to feel pride.” 

“Well, that’s okay.” You start, “I can be proud of you for both of us.” Quinn raises his head, resting his chin against your sternum as he glances up at you. 

“Really?” 

“I’ll just hold onto it until you're ready, no matter how long it takes.” You smile as you watch Quinn’s face relax a little, his own smile light on his face, as he leans forwards pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. 

“You have no idea how special you are, Quinn.” You remind him as you raise your hand to push his floppy brown locks out of his face. “But I hope one day you let yourself feel it.” 

“And, what about you?” Quinn asks, throwing your own question back in your face. “Do you know how special you are?” 

“Probably not, but I’m trying my best to figure it out.” You smile once more, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead before reaching to the coffee table for the remote. 

“I should go shower.” Quinn says as he drops his head back to your chest, his body making no moves to walk down your hallway to the bathroom. 

“You probably should.” You agree with a laugh as Quinn grabs one of your hands placing it back in his hair, a soft sigh of content escaping him as you scrape your nails against his scalp.  

“Thank you.” He whispers, his eyes squeezed shut as you press one more kiss to his head. 

“You don’t have to thank me, it's my job.” He lets out a soft chuckle, his body relaxing further as he falls asleep to the sound of mindless reality TV, your chest swelling with the pride of two people as you glance down at your boyfriend finally resting. 

[webslingingslasher]

what if peter calls her annoying for doing soemthing so she geniunely stops

peter remembers the conversation vividly.

'do you mind if i play a game?'

'no.'

'are you sure? cause if you wanna do something now's the time to say it.'

'no, you can play.'

you told him he could play, and you didn't even sound the slightest upset. he must've read that wrong, because while he's trying to focus on killing and not dying, you're chatting up a storm.

peter figured after the third barely there half acknowledgement you'd figure it out, but no. not even when he cut you off to shout something to a teammate. it was the third missed shot and he just really wanted you to stop talking.

it's nonstop and about nothing important. shit about people he doesn't know, or people he has a faint recolection from. his team was about to pull through, but you had to call his name to make sure he was listening to some bullshit about whoever and whatever and he fucking died.

'jesus fucking ch- what?! you do this every fucking time, i asked if i could play, you said yes. i asked if you minded, you said no. yet, every time you sit here and try to have a fucking conversation with me.'

as if he didn't dig in far enough:

'you're fucking annoying.'

ouch. ouch, ouch, ouch.

'i'm sorry.'

ouch, 'you're fucking annoying.' ouch, ouch, ouch.

a heavy sigh, peter rubs his eyebrow. 'yeah, i'm sure you are.' you want to shink into nothing, he made you feel so small in three words.

'you're fucking annoying.' ouch, ouch, ouch.

'i am.' it's timid, peter sighs again, this time at himself. 'i know you are. i'm sorry, i shouldn't have yelled at you. i was doing good and got distracted, i'm sorry and it's just a game.'

peter was sorry he yelled, not sorry he called you fucking annoying. no, that part he meant. it was obvious. 'it's okay.' you feel robotic, but it was your fault he lost his game. you're the one that told him he could play.

peter looks at you, his face scrunched. 'it's okay? i raised my voice at you and it's okay?' you nod, 'yeah. i distracted you.'

sure, that's what he said, but it's not what he meant. 'hey, don't sweat it. if i was a better player that wouldn't have happened, if anything you might just make me better by talking my ear off.'

'you're fucking annoying.' it still stings. you plaster on a smile, it's missing from your eyes. 'yeah, maybe.' peter winks, he bought it. or he just doesn't want to deal with it, you're fucking annoying anyways.

'you can play another round, i won't bother you this time. i promise.' and you don’t. not a single word, you just endlessly scroll on your phone and let peter celebrate his team win.

a cluster of kisses. ‘i had total focus and i set a new record. be proud of me, please.’ you smile, it hurts to know that your silence made him win. that’s how fucking annoying you are.

‘super proud, handsome. feel free to keep playing.’

it doesn’t feel right to peter, normally you’d be begging for attention or coercing him into cuddles. instead, you’re shrugging him off.

‘are you-‘

‘yes. i’m sure.’ twitter and instagram are boring. but you don’t want to be fucking annoying.

peter gives another kiss. ‘you’re the best, trouble. don’t forget it.’

you’re the best… and you’re fucking annoying.

you won’t be anymore.

———

peter’s won every single match this week and it stopped feeling good. and as he’s aimlessly wondering, half hoping to be killed, he realizes he hasn’t heard you in a little bit.

‘hey, trouble. what’s up? talk to me.’ he misses the soft chatters and gentle pokes when he loses focus on you. he misses you bidding for his attention.

‘nothing.’ you glance up to the screen, ‘don’t get yourself killed.’ peter shrugs, he doesn’t care how this match ends. instead, he moves from his chair to the bed with you.

‘c’mon, talk to me. tell me about your day or um, what’s that girl? the one with choppy highlights?’ you flip a page in your book, ‘harmony.’

‘yeah, her. what’s new with harmony?’ he moves into your touch, you slowly nudge away. ‘nothing.’ a multitude of things, actually. harmony is someone who has the life only a writer could make up.

‘i find that hard to believe, you’re always talking about her.’

you’re bitter with your words, but how dare he make it seem like he cares. ‘i did, but not anymore since im fucking annoying.’

peter looks at you, you’re choosing to avoid eye contact even if he knows you’re re-reading the same paragraph over and over. ‘you’re not annoying. who told you that?’

oh, you stare at him. you burn the glare of a thousand suns into his eyes, a moment of rage when you picture his head exploding.

‘you did.’

peter throws his controller down, he’s shot instantly. there’s not even a peek at the screen. ‘i did?’ his mind is counting back, when and the most important, why would he say that?

‘you said and i quote, ‘you’re fucking annoying.’ so don’t sit here and pretend you want to hear my stories or whatever. you’re a fucking liar and you think i’m annoying.’

in the time it takes to blink, peter’s grabbing your book away and forcing you to look at him. ‘i didn’t mean it. you’re not annoying, not now, not ever.’

you push his hands away. ‘you do. you apologized for yelling at me but not for calling me annoying. you said it and you meant it.’

‘i’m a sore loser with a big mouth. i don’t think you’re annoying, i’ve never thought you were annoying, and i never will think you’re annoying.’

you don’t buy it. he sure seemed to enjoy your silence for the past week and you tell him that. ‘no i didn’t. you think because i don’t say something, i don’t know it’s happening. i knew were more quiet and less touchy, but i figured you were really into your new book- not that i hurt your feelings.’

it’s nice to know your efforts weren’t for nothing, but you still feel a sting in your heart. ‘you said i always bother you, and that i do that every time you play.’

peter shakes his head, he’s doing everything in his power to make you toss this idea you think he has about you. ‘i worded it wrong, that’s on me.’

‘what i meant-‘ peter tugs on your knee, you can’t escape his eyes if you tried. ‘what i meant was that it feels like you want my attention most when i’m in the zone and super concentrated. i love that you want to talk to me or sit with me, i just want to win a game too, that’s all.’

you sniff, a threat of a cry if he tries something like this again. ‘so, you don’t hate me or find me fucking annoying?’ peter frowns, he hates that he caused a mental breakdown of sorts behind the scenes over something he didn’t even realize he said.

‘never ever. you’re my girl, trouble. i’m an idiot who doesn’t deserve your passive aggressiveness. next time i act like that, feel free to throw the controller at my head.’

it comes way too quick, you’ve been waiting for this. ‘deal.’

[angelltheninth]

Yoichi Isagi Realizes He's Your Soulmate

Paring: Yoichi Isagi x Reader

Tags: fluff, soulmate au, first meeting, post-game talk, being asked on a date

A/N: First time writing this sort of soulmate trope. I guess it's pretty common I just never wrote it. Glad this commission let me do so.

Isagi had yet to see color but he wasn't sad about it. He had his team, he had the thrill of scoring a goal and for him that was enough. Whenever the topic of finding a soulmate was brought up he said he had time, it was gonna happen eventually, his soulmate was out there somewhere.

He needed to score his goal, it would be the tie-breaker, the winning goal, it was all on him. No pressure right? None at all. All out of breath he ran past the other teams players, feeling his muscles screaming and burning. There was no winning path he could see. He was stun-locked. He was desperate for a breakthrough of some kind.

You could see he was struggling to break through, almost scared. Rightfully so with so much at stake. Your voice was drowned out in the sea of others but you still cheered him on.

It must have been fate that you sat behind the goal that day because it was your eyes that Isagi met. In that moment both your words exploded with colors, your eyes locked on the dazzling blue ones. Isagi almost stumbled over the ball but seemed to get his second wind, his target now so much more clear.

As the ball connected with the net and the game was won, his team swarming and jumping on him, cheering him on, but Isagi's eyes were locked on yours. Unmoving.

Was it really appropriate for you to wait outside of the locker rooms like this? Or rather in the hallway leading to the locker rooms. You tried not to act odd as the rest of the team was walking. One look at you wearing the jersey with his number. From the little bits of talk you got they seemed to be under the impression that you were dating him.

"It's you." You turned your head and was once again met with those beautiful blue eyes. Hopefully you didn't stare too hard. The atmosphere was a bit tense between you two, neither knowing quite what to say. How do you talk to your soulmate?

"I think you were great in the game." You complimented, not to awkwardly you hoped.

"T-Thanks." Isagi's cheeks turned pink. He was cuter and more shy then you thought he'd be. You wanted to ask him somewhere private to talk but with the rest of his team watching you didn't want to embarrass him, or yourself for that matter. "I have drinks to go to right now but... maybe I could get your number?"

"My number?" You looked at his phone, "Oh! Right!" You felt your hand shaking a little, nerves making you want to drop into a hole and stay there, "Here you go."

Isagi smiles as he looked it, "You have a pretty name. I'll call you okay? It was nice meeting my soulmate." He winked at you before his friends started hollering and cheering at him.

"It's a date!" You yelled so much it echoed and made him turn with a red face. So much for no embarrassment. But then he laughed, and it was the most beautiful sound you'd ever heard. If you never went to his game you may have never discovered that he was your soulmate. You're so glad your friend got dragged you to that first game a few years ago.

[byechristopher]

soooo it’s ur biggest fan here 🤣! so idea. chris is a hockey boy. i need something angsty or something

also a fluff idea reader is a dancer and chris is hockey player and reader has a competition the same place chris has a tournament. and it’s just them supporting each other

although just do what ever you want but hockey chris>>> i feel like you’d do him justice

Jealous guy.

– CHRIS STURNIOLO ANGST & FLUFF.

Author's note: I worked hard on this because it's for my biggest fan. You know I love my angsty shit, so I took your idea and combined it with mine. I hope y'all like it. 🤍 Do not copy/steal my work. :)

Ps. I'm the kind of bitch that gets all giddy and shit when Chris says "my girl" in my OWN FIC. Okay.

Warnings: not really a warning but mentions of fighting and a lil bloody lip. Mwuah. Didn't proofread, sorry!

[ YOU ]

"Okay, and what the hell do you want me to do about it?" I almost scream, turning around to look at Chris.

He was fuming, to say the least. His hair was messy, he didn't have a shirt on but wore his usual gray sweatpants. His glare was deadly.

"Uhm, I don't know, tell him to not send fucking flowers to OUR apartment?!" he shouts, throwing his phone on the couch. The irony in his voice is more than evident.

I couldn't believe it when I saw it either Honestly, I never expected him to go to such lengths. Despite being just a co-worker, he's become a relentless presence in my life. Whether it's showing up everywhere at work, bringing me coffee, or bombarding me with emails – it's relentless. The boundary crossed when he managed to find my address; literally searching for my goddamn address and sending me flowers? That is wild. Of course I told Chris about it, but he acts as if it is my fault this psycho found our address.

"I don't even know his phone number, Chris! How would I ever know that he'd search for the address and send me flowers?" I sigh, still very angry.

"I'll beat the shit out of him, I swear.. the game starts in less than an hour, fucking hell.." he says, checking his watch, "how the fuck am I ever going to play when I'm like this?"

I don't reply to him – he really makes it sound like it's my fault and despite my initial enthusiasm for the game, it's waned due to his blame game. Still, I don't want to come off as a heartless bitch, especially on the eve of his crucial match. So, I grab my phone, wallet, and keys before heading over to him.

"I really hope you win." I whisper, placing a soft peck on his cheek before exiting the bedroom and shortly after, leaving the apartment.

[ CHRIS ]

She left. Fucking hell. I always do bullshit like this – I can't keep my big mouth shut and now she's not even coming to the game. I really needed her in this one. But that is my own fault.

In the quiet solitude of our apartment, I try to prepare for the upcoming game; amidst the dim glow of our living room, I meticulously don my team jersey, each movement an attempt to shift my focus. Taking a moment, I inhale deeply, trying to be as calm as possible before the game.

With a determined resolve, I grab my gear, the familiar scent of the hockey bag triggering a surge of adrenaline. As I step outside, the crisp evening air hits me, momentarily clearing my mind. The journey to the rink is a silent contemplation, the distant echoes of the city fading as I immerse myself in mental preparation.

Arriving at the arena, I feel the familiar anticipation. The ambient sounds of the crowd and distant echoes of skates on the ice envelop me, grounding me in the moment. I exchange nods and greetings with teammates. The locker room door creaks open, revealing the sanctum where emotions are set aside, and the game becomes paramount. Amidst the hum of chatter and the clatter of equipment, I sigh; I really want her to come. I still have hope, although I doubt it. The tension lingers as I tighten my skate laces, and Jake, my teammate and friend, notices my distraction.

"You seem off, Chris. Everything okay?" Jake asks.

"Yeah.." I look up at him, and he seems like he already knows, "..just had a big fight with my girl before I left. Can't shake it off," I confess.

Jake pats me on the shoulder. "I understand, man. I wish I could say something but you gotta leave it behind for now. We've got a game to win. Sort things out later."

On the ice, rival players almost immediately target me, seeming to be aware of my vulnerable state; it must be that fucking expression of mine. I can't hide it. During the first period, a smirking opponent skates by, taunting, "trouble at home, Chrissy? Should focus on that instead of the game." he smiles.

Enraged, I retaliate with a forceful check, earning myself a penalty, "keep your temper in check, Chris!" warns the referee.

In the penalty box, I mutter under my breath, "I can't fucking believe this."

As the match progresses, rival players intensify their attempts to provoke me; we've played with those fuckers before, and if anyone has seen me in a game, they know very well the only thing that can affect the way I play is her. Undeterred, I channel my anger into my plays, determined to win this goodamn game while internally wondering if she came to see me after all.

In a breakaway, I find myself one-on-one with the opposing goalie. With a swift deke, I send the puck into the net, equalizing the score. The crowd erupts, and my teammates cheer.

Rival players persist in their attempts to get under my skin. During a tense moment, an opposing forward sneers, "look, your girlfriend's probably enjoying the show. Make sure to not embarass her again."

After that, I almost lose it, and in a heated moment, a rival defenseman delivers a high stick to my face, splitting my lip. Blood drips onto the ice as I stumble backward. The referee signals a penalty, but the damage is done.

Undeterred by the bleeding, I clench my fists, "you think that's going to stop me? You fucking coward!" I almost scream to make sure that fucking asshole hears me.

The game continues, and during a power play, I push through the pain. I charge towards the net, ignoring the throbbing pain in my lip – the only thing on my mind is her and making her proud.

Fueled by a surge of anger and determination, I respond with a spectacular goal that secures the lead for my team. I skate past the jeering opponent, acknowledging the crowd's cheers.

As the final buzzer sounds, signaling our victory, I finally spot my girlfriend in the stands. My heart beats faster. A mix of emotions plays across her face, and I realize the significance of my performance. It's like no one else is around, just us and that is the only thing that matters. I keep eye contact with her, even when my teammates are cheering for me and I smile, even with that bloody lip – she smiles back and I want to kiss her so bad.

[ YOU ]

When I saw Chris' bloody lip, I almost lost it – the restraint within me, resisting the urge to jump in and shove my fingernails into that asshole's eye sockets, is beyond words. I was well aware they were deliberately provoking Chris; his simmering anger was very evident. The recklessness in his gameplay during the initial stages of the game made it even more obvious that he was more focused on what they said than the actual game.

I kept yelling his name at the top of my lungs, unsure if he could hear, but I desperately wished for his victory, especially after that intense fight. Witnessing him wince from the pain now and then, I felt an overwhelming urge to cry.

As he scored the decisive goal and secured the victory, I couldn't contain my excitement, jumping up and down. It brought back memories of our younger days when I always cheered him on during his games.

When all of this was over and I just stood there, I could see him looking at me. His gaze finally finds me in the midst of the crowd, and my heart feels like it might leap out of my chest. Everything else fades away, leaving only him in my line of sight.

I notice all of the team leaving, probably going to the locker rooms and I quickly head to the exit door.

In the dimly lit corridor outside of where the locker rooms are, he finally comes outside and spots me waiting there, my expression a mix of anticipation and apprehension.

"Hey," he calls out, his voice carrying a hint of both excitement and apology.

I look up, meeting his eyes, "hey," a subtle smile playing on my lips, "you played amazing out there."

Still trying to catch his breath, he wraps his arms around me in a tight hug, keeping me close for a while. We are not saying anything, I just hold him close, my fingers buried in his sweaty hair.

"Thank you so much for coming." he whispers.

"I would never lose any of your games. Even when you're being an asshole." I smile, which I am sure he can hear when I'm speaking.

"I am so sorry. I didn't mean to put the blame on you. I just.. I am fucking jealous. I don't want any other guy near you." he keeps his voice as low as possible.

"Shhh, I know. Let's take care of that lip first and then you can apologise to me all you want." I pull away but he doesn't let go of course – I cup his cheek and take out some tissue that I keep in my bag for emergency with my free hand. I gently pat the skin, trying to clean the blood as much as I can without hurting him.

His eyes soften, "seriously, baby. Thanks for coming. I always play better when you're cheering for me."

I look up at him, my gaze softening as well as I cup both of his cheeks now, "I know. I am so, so proud of you. You were amazing, as always." I whisper, leaning in to play the softest kiss on his little wound.

"God, I love you." he whispers, wrapping his arms around my waist, hugging me close to him.

"I love you too."

[qrrieterisunnq]

It's nothing - Nico Hischier

nico!hischier x fem!reader Summary: Nico gets injured during the game, which leads to y/n checking him out in the medical room. Nico downplays his injury to make a good impression on Y/n. requested: yes/no A/N: I hope you'll like it, it's unedited so I might change something when I have time to edit the rest of the fics! So just enjoy this fic and happy rest of the day! likes are good, reblogs are better <3 gif, not mine word count: 1,38K warning(s): injured Nico, y/n is an intern, cocky Nico, fluff

masterlist | wip's

The puck is on Nico’s stick as he skates towards the net of the team they’re playing against. They are up for two goals, but they are just in the second period. Nico looks around, looking for his teammates so he can pass them the puck.

On his left is Jack but there are two islanders next to him, so he wouldn’t be able to get the puck. There are other two Luke and Ondřej, but they aren’t in the best position, so the last one is Jasper who is in center with the best chance to shoot a goal.

“Bratter!” he shouts, his thick Swiss accent making Jasper whisp his head in Nico’s direction. With a swift swing of his stick, Nico sends the puck over to him all eyes on Jesper as he shoots on the net getting the puck in the top left corner. The cheers and the bell sound through the arena, and the boys on the ice skate over to Jesper embracing him in a hug and patting his head. “Atta boy!” Nico laughs, patting his helmet.

“God shot, J!” Jack skates over to them, joining the hug. The lineup slowly makes their way to the bench bumping the extended gloves of their teammates.

After their celebration, Nico skates on the faceoffs, taking in a deep breath to calm himself down to win the face-off. As soon as the puck touches the ice, Nico swings his stick the puck sliding behind him on Jack’s stick. He swings his stick, hitting the puck hard as it flies in the net, right between the goalie's legs, but this time, he’s prepared for it and deflects the puck away. Nico skates toward it, but the defenseman on the other team pushes him in the boards. Nico’s shoulder slammed into the boards, and he fell down, staying there as he winced in pain.

The referee immediately whistles announcing penalties, as the boys skate over to Nico. Timo immediately shoves the other player away earning a shove in return.

But Timo's anger and loyalty to Nico won't let him and he shoves him again, the defenceman doesn't like that and gives Timo a hard hit in the face.

The free referee skates over to them trying to get them away from each other. Jack skates towards them hugging Timo around his waist and pulling him away. “YOU SON OF BITCH!” Timo shouts over Jack’s shoulder as he’s dragged away to the bench.

“You okay, Nico?” Ondřej asks Nico as he kneels down beside him.

“My shoulder hurts like a bitch.” Nico whimper, his left hand clutching his right one

“Okay, give me your hand, we’ll get you down to the medical room.” He sighs gripping Nico’s left hand and helping him up on the skates as he skates with him to the bench.

“You okay Nico?” Coach Green asks with concern in his eyes.

“No my shoulder hurts like a bitch!” he curse as he clutches Ondřej’s arm for support.

“I’ll lead him down to the medical room, I’m sure y/n is ready for him.” Coach just nods his head making room for them to leave down the tunnel.

“Y/n! Are you here!” you can hear a voice with a thick accent calling for you. Immediately you run to the door opening and welcome the two players inside the room.

“Yeah! Come in, come in!” you urge them inside pointing towards the table. “Sit on the table Nico and Pally I need you to help him take off the jersey and pads.” You say as you walk over to your table taking the gloves from the box.

“Sure.” He nods his head solely helping Nico to get his jersey from his injured shoulder. “Thanks, O.” Nico breathes out as soon as the jersey is off of him leaving him sitting here in only his pads. “I get the pads you can go back. I need you to win the game!”

“You sure Cap?”

“Yeah positive, go and kick their asses.” Nico goes to move his right arm to extend his fist but winces in pain.

“Hey, Nico, be careful!” you scold him as you walk over to him starting to get his pads off.

“Sorry,” he pouts, a small laugh leaving Ondřej’s lips. “But it’s nothing.”

“Okay, can you please slowly raise your hand up? As soon as it starts hurting you stop okay?” you say when he’s sitting half-naked in front of you.

Nico just nods his head raising his right arm. You watch his face wince in pain but he continues raising it until it is in a vertical position. “It’s nothing, see?” he points to the right arm.

“I’m the one to say if it’s nothing. The boarding looked really nasty so let me do my job here okay?” you smile at him your hands gripping his right arm and getting it down in a normal position. You place your hands on his shoulder, squeezing the right places to find out what is with his shoulder.

“So, how are you enjoying the internship so far?” he asks as you do your job with his shoulder.

“Oh, it's amazing! Really the medical staff here is so welcoming and really helpful when I need something or I don’t know what something is. And of course, you guys are amazing too, you know, free hockey games.” You chuckle a throaty laugh escaping from his lips.

“Oh, are we?” he says cocky smile lingering on his lips. “Yeah, I mean you’re playing amazing,” you look at him when a quiet groan leaves his mouth. He just shakes his head like it's nothing, that it’s not hurting. “Especially you.” You whisper to yourself hoping he won’t hear it. It’s no secret you have a crush on the captain. Lots of the guys noticed how you check him off and the medical staff too.

“Especially me, eh?” he asks his hands landing on your hips as he pulls you between his legs.

“Yeah, and now let me do my job. Your shoulder is dislocated so I need to get it back in its place,” You say shaking his hands off your hips. “So on three, okay?” you prepare him for a pain. Your left hand is resting on his shoulder and your right is holding his biceps so you can pull at it.

“Yeah, you don’t have to count, it won’t hurt, I’m a tough guy.” Smirk finding its way on his lips shrugging you grasp his shoulder harder at the same time as you pull on his biceps getting the shoulder in the right place.

“Oh FUCK!!” he hisses his teeth sinking in his lower lips.

“Tough guy, huh?” you smirk at him patting his tight as you walk over to the table for bandage.

“Very funny y/n, really.” He says taking in deep breath, and just watching y/n do her job. He had this intense crush on her since she started her internship here only a few weeks ago.

“What, I thought you said it wouldn’t hurt!” you giggle as you carefully bandage his shoulder. “Okay, tough guy! You can go on the ice, but be careful with it. One bag hit in the shoulder and you might end up here again.” You smile at him when you’re done and fuck…your smile is so fucking cute and he just wants that full plump lips on his.

“Oh, don’t worry, I wouldn’t mind ending up in here again.” Nico puts his pads back on his shoulders and arms, covering his toned muscular chest. You pout at it, shaking your head at yourself.

“Yeah, good one. Now go on that ice and kick some asses. And for a record, don’t try to downplay your injury just to make a good impression on someone, tough guy.” You motion your hand towards the ice and turn away to take off your gloves and write something on the computer.

“Okay, thanks for the advice miss intern.” He salutes and walks from the medical room, only to come back. “And by the way, tomorrow, you and me, dinner! I’ll pick you up at eight.” He sends you a wink, causing your cheeks to turn red. Before you can say anything, he’s running down the tunnel to the ice. You just shake your head at him, sitting down on your chair, your cheeks still bright red and your thoughts already on tomorrow and the dinner.

[munsons-hellfire]

I Always Knew | Eddie Munson

SUMMARY: You fell in love with Eddie over the years. But you feared that he never felt the same way. When you finally break up with Jason and decided your ready to tell Eddie you love him. Your reality is crashed when you catch someone kissing him. Only it's not her he loves.

PAIRINGS: Eddie Munson x Reader, Jason Carver x Reader (brief mentions)

CONTENT WARNING: 18+ MDNI, NSFW, the events of season 4 don't happen (which means Hopper doesn't disappear, no one moves to Cali and reader does know about El and the Upside down), best friends to lovers, both kinda clueless about each others feelings, smut with a plot, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it), oral (f receiving), angst, fluff, a happy ending.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: It was so good to get back to Stranger Things. I honestly missed writing for Eddie. I hope you enjoyed this one shot as much as I enjoyed writing it. The smut could be a little better but I don't write it as much so this is how it turned out.

WORD COUNT: 3.7K

You had been friends with Eddie Munson from the moment you moved into the trailer park in Hawkins Indiana. Eddie was the first person𑁋other than your father𑁋that you left into your life after your mother. You and your father had moved back to his hometown of Hawkins just months after your mother passed away. You felt stuck, like your feet had cemented to the ground and you couldn’t move forward anymore.

Then one night when you were out stargazing to feel closer to your mother, you met Eddie Munson. From the moment he came over to talk to you, you knew one day that you’d marry him. As the two of you grew older neither of you could be separated from each other. Wayne and Bill𑁋your father𑁋couldn’t separate you two from each other. They both knew collectively from the moment that you met that one day you and Eddie would end up together.

They were shocked that neither of you had come forward and admitted your feelings for each other. But a small rift formed between your friendship when you started dating Jason Carver. You should’ve known better, but Jason had you locked under his spell and you thought it would be a way to move on from Eddie. Here you stood, Jason standing in front of you talking about the basketball game and how positive that they were going to win tonight.

But your mind constantly found its way back to Eddie, no matter how hard you tried to avoid thinking about him, you couldn’t. You especially couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d feel on top of you. About the way his cock would feel deep inside you. Just thinking about him that way made you wet between your legs.

“Are you listening to me, baby?” Jason questioned, his eyes trained on you. You were pulled out of your delicious thoughts, staring at your soon to be ex. This was your chance, you’d break up with him and then you’d finally go after Eddie hoping that it wasn’t too late.

“No, I’m not.” You whispered, then you sighed. “I can’t do this anymore Jason.” Your voice was steady as you spoke to him. You watched shock slowly morph into his features.

“What are you saying?” You pulled your eyes away from Jason looking around the hallway seeing a few people staring at you two. Almost like they were waiting for the announcement that you were breaking up with him.

A sigh rips from your throat, “What I’m saying is that I’m breaking up with you.”

A shocked noise left Jason’s mouth. “You can’t break up with me, we’re great together.” Jason said, throwing his hands in the air.

“I can and I am. I’m not meant to be with you, I’m meant to be with someone else.”

With those words you turned away from the basketball player and walked away from him as he called out your name. He didn’t however make a move to stop you. As you started on your journey to find Eddie you were stopped by Dustin, Mike, Lucas, and Will; all of whom were in Hellfire with Eddie. It was nice of Eddie to take the boys under his wing this year, you loved him a little more seeing the way he treated them. They had needed a good role model other than Steve after everything that had happened over the last few years.

But you could all live a normal life thanks to El defeating the Mind Flayer. You wondered where Max and El were considering that they were all inseparable. You were certain they probably weren’t far, or would be joining them soon enough.

“Is there something I can help you with?” You asked, with a raised brow.

“We heard that you finally broke up with Carver.” Dustin said, his smile taking over his face.

“Wow, that happened not even 5 minutes ago and it spread around quickly.” You pause, keeping your eyes trained on the teens. “I did. Why?” A curious expression appeared on your face as you waited for one of them to answer the question.

“Does this mean that you and Eddie are finally going to get together?” Mike asked. All four of them plus everyone else in your friend group including Steve made it very clear to you and Eddie that you both were perfect for each other. You and Eddie were two pieces to the puzzle that fit perfectly together. Never when you were together though, only if you weren’t around each other.

“You four are something, that’s for sure.” You paused, but allowed a smile to break through and plaster your face. “That being said, I was on my way to find him and talk to him. Any of you happen to know where I might find Eddie? I know I should know but I’ve been distracted as of late.”

Even though you’d asked the question, you knew exactly where Eddie would be. But you wanted to make sure just in case you were wrong. He was in the drama room most likely setting up for tonight’s session for Hellfire.

“Drama room!” They all answered excitedly.

“Great! Thank you!”

With a smile still on your lips you turned again and walked in the direction of the drama room. You were more than ready to admit your feelings to Eddie even if it meant you’d possibly ruin your friendship. You opened the door when you reached the drama room, Eddie was already setting up for tonight’s session which you were excited to see. Eddie looked up from what he was doing and smiled at you. His smile sent a warm feeling through your body.

“Hey, I thought you’d be getting ready for the basketball game.” Eddie said, as he looked back down at what he was setting up.

“Uh, actually, I thought I’d skip out tonight and watch your campaign if that’s okay.” Your voice came out soft as you talked to Eddie. But in reality you just wanted to tell him how much you loved him. How you didn’t want to be apart from him anymore. But nothing would come out, your words were lodged in your throat, they wouldn’t move forward.

“Of course, you know you’re always welcome here.”

You walked over to Eddie and sat down in one of the chairs. One by one the boys started to file into the drama room. El and Max were now with them too. Eventually the campaign started and you kept your eyes on Eddie for the most part. You were memorized by how he explained the storyline and the whole premise of the campaign. Things took a turn for the worst when someone else entered the drama room.

All eyes including yours fell onto her, she was so beautiful. You were nothing compared to her, suddenly you felt so self-conscious. You started to fidget with your fingers as you watched the blond walk up to Eddie, interrupting the session.

“Uh, don’t mind me.” She said softly, then proceeded to give Eddie a kiss to his lips, a quick peck.

But that was enough for you to feel your entire world shatter. She sat down next to him and the campaign continued. Eddie took notice of the way your posture and mood suddenly changed. He thought it was odd but shook it off. As the campaign came to a close and everyone started to pack up, you quickly said your goodbyes to everyone except Eddie and the girl that had missed him. With your back to everyone you let the tears roll down your cheeks.

You weren’t upset that you had broken up with Jason. It was better for you, but you had pushed it off too long and now because of that you were too late to get Eddie, the one you always knew you wanted. Climbing in your car you turned it on and drove out of the school parking lot as fast as you could before Eddie had a chance to catch up to you. When you made it home you climbed out of your car and headed towards your trailer. Your dad was outside, a soft warm smile on his face.

“Hi, darling. How was the basketball game?” He asked, curiously.

“I didn’t go. I broke up with Jason because I realized that I’m in love with Eddie. But now I can’t have him because he’s dating someone else.”

You walked up the steps as you answered your father. The door closed behind you as you stepped into the trailer and headed straight for your room. Bill could hear the sadness in your voice. It broke his heart to see you like this. Once you were inside your room you locked the door, collapsed on your bed and let the rest of the tears out.

☾

Days had passed since you broke up with Jason, you’d also managed to avoid Eddie as well. It even included not going to school for those few days. Each day Eddie stopped by your home after school to talk to you, but you weren’t in the right space to talk to him. Your father would send him away saying that you hadn’t been feeling well. But your dad wasn’t home right now and Eddie needed to see you.

He needed to understand why you wouldn’t talk to him. You were curled into your side, your blanket was wrapped around your entire body and you had a horror movie on. You’d normally watch them with Eddie, but you had it on more so for background noise. The sound was up just enough for you to not hear Eddie enter your trailer.

Your eyes were closed and your cheeks were wet with tears. No matter how hard you had tried to stop crying you just couldn’t stop. It hurt too much. Eddie came up to your cracked door and knocked on it softly.

“It’s me, princess.” Eddie called out, voice soft and sweet as you remembered.

“Go away.”

Your voice was hoarse and low. You gripped your blanket tighter. Eddie ignored you, opening the bedroom door and walking in. He closed it behind him, then Eddie pulled his shoes off and climbed into your bed. You felt the dip of your bed and tried to move away. Eddie wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his chest.

You were desperate to get away from him. The position that you were currently in wasn’t working for either of you. So Eddie lifted you up and turned your body so your back was on your bed. The metalhead pushed himself in between your legs, and you felt yourself stop breathing for a brief moment. Eddie held your hands above your head, suddenly everything was different.

“Why are you ignoring me?” Eddie questioned, a stern look on his face. You looked up at him finally, his brown eyes staring back at you. But there was something different, his eyes were covered in lust.

“I’m not ignoring you. Let go of me Eddie.” You mumbled looking away from him. Eddie removed a hand from your hands, he reached out and grabbed a hold of your jaw turning it back so he could see your eyes.

“Yes. You. Are.” He paused, eyes skimming down your body before moving back up and resting on your eyes. “I want to know why.”

“Because.” You spoke, your bottom lip trembling as you fought back to hold the tears in. You didn’t need to cry in front of him, not like this.

“Because why?” Eddie pressed.

“I broke up with Jason, because I…” You paused, it was now or never.

“You what?” Eddie let go of your hands and pulled away from your body, he leaned down on his knees but continued to stare at you. You suddenly missed his warmth.

“I broke up with him, I couldn’t bear the thought of being with someone who I didn’t love. Not when the person I love is you. And I wanted to tell you, I did, really. But the words got stuck in my throat and then she came in and kissed you and I knew… I knew that I had missed my time.” You pulled yourself up and moved back towards your headboard, then proceeded to wrap your arms around your legs when you pulled them to your chest.

“That’s why you’ve been ignoring me?” Eddie asked as he paused, running a hand down his face. “Look, she was nothing. I told her she could come watch the campaign session, but I swear I hadn’t planned for her to kiss me, okay. That was the last thing I wanted to happen.” Eddie adjusted himself, coming up next to you and wrapping an arm around you. “I always knew, you know. I always knew that I loved you, and deep down I think I always knew that you loved me too. But I didn’t want to ruin what we had over my feelings. I didn’t want to lose my best friend.”

“Oh, Ed.” You stared up at him, his brown eyes glazing over you. Before you could stop yourself you had your lips on Eddie’s and were kissing him with all the passion you had inside you. When you finally pull back from the heated kiss, you just stare at him. “You could never lose me.”

Eddie closed the space between you, his lips found purchase on yours again. His ringed fingers tangled into your hair, palms resting gently against your cheeks as he continued to kiss you. Eddie helped lower you down on the bed, until he was back between your legs. Your hands tangled into his long brown curly locks as he removed his lips from yours and placed them on your neck. He smirked when a soft moan escaped your lips.

The moan encouraged him to suck your skin in between his lips while his hand wandered down your chest. Finally his hand rested on your breasts, squeezing one before moving to the other. He could feel your nipples grow taut after he touched them. Eddie let off of your skin, pulling back from your body slightly. He looked down at your net to see a bruise forming where he had pulled at the skin. His smirk grew bigger as he stared down at your already blissed out face.

“Is this real?” You asked softly.

“It’s real, baby. Lean up.” Eddie said. You listened to his order and leaned yourself up from the bed slightly. “Good girl.” The words were smooth when they left his mouth, you felt yourself clenching your thighs together as Eddie leaned closer and reached for the bottom of your shirt. He grasped the shirt and started to lift it up your body.

Once the shirt was removed from your body you were left in only your bra, and shorts. Your hair fell back down landing on your chest. He threw your shirt onto the floor then reached forward again. His hands rested on your waist and slid up your back. His fingers unclasped your bra and pulled it off your shoulders. Finally he threw it to the floor and gently pushed you back down towards the mattress.

Eddie leaned down and placed kisses on your chest, slowly moving down. You gasped quietly when Eddie took a nipple into his mouth and started to flick his tongue around it. You closed your eyes, happy with just feeling him on you. Eddie pulled his lips from your nipple and moved to the other repeating the same thing. With his free hand he pinched your other nipple between his index finger and thumb.

Another moan slipped past your lips. He smirked at you, pulling away from your breasts and moving down your body. Eddie left a trail of kisses down your stomach until he reached your pussy. Eddie placed his lips on each thigh, avoiding the one spot you needed him most right now.

“Eddie.” You moaned out, lust filled eyes on him. He looked amazingly handsome between your thighs and you couldn’t help the smile that managed to cover your face. “Please.” You added, your voice barely above a whisper.

“So needy, princess.” Eddie whispered, his hot breath hitting your pussy.

He stuck his tongue out in front of your already wet cunt, then you felt his tongue on you. He licked a strip, moving from the bottom all the way to your clit. He sucked your clit into his mouth liking side to side. Gently he lifted a finger to your entrance and pushed a finger in. You tightened around his finger, a groan left Eddie’s lips causing a shutter to run through your body.

The slurping sound from his tongue ran through your ears, another moan left your lips when Eddie added another finger and curled them inside you hitting that sweet spot. You felt your orgasm inching closer with each lick of his tongue on your clit. You threw your head back, hitting your pillows. Your eyes were squeezed shut, mouth gaped open, your orgasm was so close.

“Eddie, please.” You moaned.

Eddie tugs at your clit, and curls his fingers inside again. When Eddie did that you felt yourself tighten around his fingers. Then he started to pick his pace up, pulling his fingers out only to shove them back inside of you.

“That’s it princess, cum on my fingers.” He whispered.

He stuck his tongue out again softly licking your clit. You shuttered, as you came on his fingers. Your moans echoed around the room as the remnants of your orgasm hit you. Eddie rested his head on your thigh, pulling his fingers from your entrance. You watched with blissed out eyes as he sucked your juices off his digits.

“You taste so divine, princess.” A smile fell onto your lips. Eddie pulls himself away from you, he climbs off the bed and proceeds to remove his clothes one by one. Eddie tugs his boxers off, his cock springs free hitting his stomach, pre-cum drips from the tip. He climbs back onto the bed and hoovers over top of you.

You pull your hand to your mouth and spit on it. Then you reach out and grab a hold of his cock and begin to stroke it. A moan leaves his lips at the feeling of your hand on him. He rests his head against yours. He pushes your hand off his cock and grips it, then you feel him tapping his cock against your clit. A strangled moan leaves your swollen lips.

Eddie smirks, he pulls back, placing his cock at your entrance. You watch as he pushes his cock inside of you. Eddie moans as you grip him tightly. Another moan leaves you, Eddie pushes all the way inside and settles there allowing you to adjust to his size.

“Fuck, I’ve waited so long to feel this close to you.” Eddie whispered.

“Please move.” You stared up at Eddie’s brown eyes. You’d waited long enough too and you needed him to move. He could see the pleading look that covered your face. Eddie pulled back just until the tip of his cock was the only thing that remained inside you. Then he pushed forward slamming back into you. Both of you moaned out in pleasure.

You could feel yourself tighten around Eddie’s cock as he continued the pace he was going. The sound of skin slapping skin echoed through the bedroom. Another moan fell from your lips, Eddie leaned forward and kissed them swallowing your moan. Eddie moves his fingers down to your clit and starts circling the bud. He pulls another moan from your lips, it echoes in the room when he pulls away to kiss your neck.

Your orgasm was getting closer. Eddie’s hips slammed into yours. Continuous moans left both your mouths as both of you inched closer towards your impending orgasm. Eddie could feel you getting closer. A smile brightened on his face. You placed a hand down on your bed and gripped the sheets tightly, arching your back.

“Fuck, Eddie.” You moaned.

“Are you close?” He whispered breathlessly.

“So close.” You mumbled. Eddie kept his finger on your clit rubbing in fast tight circles. His cock hitting that sweet spot inside of you.

“You gonna cum all over my cock, princess?” You could only nod your head, words weren’t forming on your tongue. “I want to feel you cum.”

“Eddie.” Another whimpered moan left your lips after breathing his name. He felt his orgasm getting closer, but he wanted to feel you cum around his cock first.

“Cum on my cock.”

 You obeyed Eddie, a moan falling from your lips. Eddie felt you squeezing him, he went to pull out, however you gripped onto his arms.

“No. Inside.” The words left your mouth and you watched through dazed eyes as Eddie complied and kept himself inside you. He slammed his hips into you a final time cum releasing inside you. Eddie slowed his rhythm down more until his hips stilled. He stared down at you with bright brown eyes. Lust filled eyes, but still bright.

Slowly Eddie removed himself from you, pulling back and climbing off the bed. You stared up at the ceiling, no thoughts in your mind just the blissful aftermath of your post orgasm. When Eddie returned you gasped feeling something could touch your cunt.

“Just cleaning you up, princess.” Eddie threw the cloth in your close basket. He climbed back into the bed and pulled you onto his chest.

“So, what does this mean now?” You asked, finally breaking the silence after the two of you had settled down into the bed.

“It means your mine.” Eddie whispered, placing a soft kiss on your head.

You tilted your head towards him with a smile so bright Eddie always wanted to see it. “I think I can live with that.” You leaned up to him and kissed his lips passionately.

“Good.” You laid your head down on his chest and fell asleep, at some point he had pulled his boxers on and his shirt. And you had your shirt and underwear back on. Finally he fell asleep holding you. An hour later your dad came in calling for you, when he opened the door he stared at you resting in Eddie’s arms. They were wrapped around your waist tightly.

“It’s about damn time.” He whispered, closing the door and walking back down the hallway.

[outsideratheart]

plsss something for Meet Me At Henman Hill, where reader come back home to Leah after winning the Australian Open

Dreams do come true (Leah Williamson x reader)

The adrenaline from winning the Australian open was the only thing keeping you from succumbing to exhaustion.

The final itself has been one of the most physical matches you had played but going up against Aryna, you expected nothing less. It was one of your favourite matches but the heat and strength you used to play caused you to have very little left in the tank by the time your flight lands at London Heathrow.

You could have gone home to change and rest a little but you wanted to soak in the pre match atmosphere at The Emirates.

The streets were packed, the fans were singing and you could have sworn you heard someone playing a french horn.

Inside the stadium your eyes fell to Leah who was on the pitch warming up. From the box you knew she couldn’t see you but it didn’t stop you from waving when she looked your way.

“She’s finally getting her turn” Alex joined you outside.

“Al, I’m so proud of her”

Leah’s determination throughout her recovery had truly been inspiring. She worked hard and never gave up, oh and she learnt how to play the piano in her spare time. She amazed you day in and day out.

“She’s proud of you too you know. We watched the match together. Congratulations by the way”

Leah had only been able to see you play live twice. The first time was Wimbledon then in the summer she came to New York to support you in the US open. Her support was unwavering and today you hoped to show the same level of support. Whilst it wasn’t your first Arsenal game, it was the first time you’d be seeing Leah play live.

You cheered loudly and joined in with the fan chants for the entire game.

“She’s one of our own. She’s one of our own. Leah Williamson, she’s one of our own” you sang proudly.

When the game was over Alex asked a member of security to lead you down to the tunnel where you waited for your girlfriend to come off the pitch. You weren’t exactly wearing a disguise, only a white cap, but you hoped you would go unnoticed as players walked past you. A few of them congratulated you and you thanked them politely all whilst keeping you eyes on the entrance.

Beth tells you that Leah is doing some media and that you can wait in the locker room for her. She points out Leah’s locker and you take a seat. You noticed a small Polaroid stuck to the side, it was one that her mum took of the two you at Christmas. You removed it from the locker and took a photo of it on your phone.

You felt her presence without looking up.

“Hi my love” you picked her up and spun her around “You just played a sold out Emirates stadium”

When you put her down you noticed her eyes were glassed over.

Leah wasn’t sure if it was the fact that she just lived her dream or the fact that she hadn’t seen you in almost two months but she was truly happy in that moment.

“It’s my dream” that was all Leah could say.

She grew up watching the men’s team sell out the emirates and for a long time it seemed the undreamable dream for her but here she is.

“Let me get a quick shower and we can go home”

“I’m not going anywhere. Not for the next two weeks” you pull her in for a short but deep kiss before sitting back down in her locker.

When you’re back at Leah’s you start preparing dinner whilst she gets changed. When you enter the living room you see her taking selfies with your trophy, even kissing it.

“Hey! Save some for me!”

Leah hadn’t heard you come up and jumps upon hearing your voice. Her cheeks flush in embarrassment of being caught fan girling over the Daphne Akhurst Memorial Cup.

“This thing is huge. Where are you going to put it?” Leah asked as she placed it down gently on her coffee table.

“I don’t know. Do you have room anywhere?”

“You’re giving it to me?” Leah didn’t get what you meant.

“You’ve inspired me more than you realise Leah. Watching you work your arse off to get back on the pitch made me want to be a better tennis player”

You watch as your girlfriend stands up and takes your trophy. Leah pretends to give an acceptance speech which you hate to admit but it was better than yours. Then again the blonde always did have a way with words.

[greynatomy]

luck of the irish

katie mccabe x reader

i’m having sm trouble writing rn that i feel like i’m just rambling when writing at this point. hope it makes sense for y’all

part 2 part 3

———

“Come on. Please. For me?” You ask the two people on a video call with you

Your best friends, Selena and Taylor, and you are having a virtual hangout, seeing as you all live in different places.

“What’s in it for us?” Selena asks, taking a sip of her wine.

“Absolutely nothing, but you get to go to England.”

“And what are we gonna do? Sit and watch you ogle your girlfriend for like two hours.”

“Exactly.”

“Stop teasing me. You can’t hardly blame me though, my girlfriend is hot. And y’all are just bitter that you’re single.”

“Hey! I’m not anymore.”

“Shocker!” You say sarcastically. “You’ve been going to your boyfriend’s games so much and brought us with you, now it’s my turn.”

“Sel, you need to get yourself an athlete.”

“I know.” She whines, extending the ‘o’. “You guys need to set me up with someone.

“You might catch the eyes of some footballers if you come here.”

“We’re gonna be in so many news headlines.”

“Just gotta make sure we don’t look stupid in them.”

———

The Arsenal Women’s team are all on the pitch, warming up for their match. All of a sudden, the crowd throughout the stadium starts cheering, confusing all the players and staff on the pitch.

Looking all around, the crowd is watching the big screen. There you are, with your two best friends, all completely oblivious to what’s happening. The three of you were too preoccupied doing the marshmallow game to notice all the eyes on you. Well, to be fair, you all grew up with eyes always on you that you all learned to block it out.

“Stop fucking it up Taylor. You’re like the whole music industry, where’s the rhythm?”

“Fuck you! I don’t have to listen to you. You’re not my Mom.”

“Okay! Let’s just try it again okay?”

“I’ll start. One marshmallow.”

“Check it out.”

“Woo.”

Down on the field, Katie watches the big screen, not being able to stop the huge grin of amusement on her face.

“Dude! There’s no way that’s actually Y/N Y/LN, Selena Gomez and Taylor Swift.”

“I mean, if you open your eyes you would see that it actually is.” Caitlin shoves Katie away because of her sarcastic response.

———

Nothing really happens for the first half, but as soon as the second half starts, Arsenal in playing like they’ve got some fresh pairs of legs on them.

“Now I understand why people watch sports.” Taylor says loudly.

“Dates an athlete and is now obsessed with sports.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“But seriously. I’ve never watched a sport on my life until I met Katie. And it’s a plus she looks hot doing it.”

———

We’ve got McCabe, Katie McCabe I just don’t think you understand she plays out on the wing, she hits it with a zing we’ve got Katie McCabe

You started chanting with all the fans, encouraging your friends to join in.

“C’mon guys! Just like I taught you!”

———

Arsenal eventually won from a banger from McCabe, who was now getting interviewed.

“Katie, good game today. You scored the game winning shot, how’d that feel?”

“Oh, em, I was just doing what I usually do. But I’ve actually got my girlfriend here, so I had to put on a bit of a show for her.”

“Oh! Wow! Well, thank you for your time Katie.” The reporter says a bit shocked at the news.

Katie walks into the locker room, everyone is just sat at their cubby, cooking down from the match, when a knock is heard from the door.

“You girls decent?” Jonas’ voice comes through the door.

“Yeah!”

“Alright, well, we’ve got some guests that would love to meet you all.”

You, Taylor and Selena walk through the door being met by the whole team. The team fan girls for a bit, the team’s social media videographer catching it all on camera.

After greeting everyone, you walk over to where Katie is still sat in her cubby and place yourself on her lap, her arms immediately wrapping around your waist.

Her teammates are too preoccupied with Selena and Taylor to notice the two of you, but both your friends know you like to wander off, instantly noticing you weren’t next to them anymore.

Looking around, she sees you with your girlfriend whispering in her ear that has her biting her lip.

“Oh my god! Stop flirting in front of other people please!” Taylor speaks out, grabbing the attention of everyone in the room.

“You’re just mad cause your man who’s not your man is off playing fake football and not with you.”

“Oh, she got you there.” Selena laughs at Taylor’s offended face, giving you a high five.

“We’re no longer friends.” Taylor pouts, crossing her arms across her chest.

“You’ll get over it cause you love me.” You wrap her in a hug, Selena joining in. “Okay, enough of that. Can we all take a group picture?” You ask the Gunners. “I’ve gotta cook dinner.”

After the photo, the three of you bid farewell to the team, you giving Katie a quick kiss and a ‘see you later.’

“Actually, can I go with you? I’ll just shower at home.” Katie asks, packing her things.

“C’mon. Bye guys!” You wave at everyone.

“See you soon!” Katie leaves after you.

The team was silent for a bit after the four of you left, not knowing how to process that their Irish teammate has a girlfriend and who her girlfriend is.

“That was unexpected.”

“Indeed.”

“How’d Katie get a girl like her?” Beth asks, not quite understanding.

“It’s probably the luck the Irish have.”

“And Y/N is her pot of gold.”

“Damn.”

[estapa-edwards]

OPPOSING FAN - Q. HUGHES

paring: Quinn Hughes x fem! reader

word count: 2.7k

requested? no

warnings: use of y/n.

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The tension in the air was palpable, the crowd's roars echoing in my ears as I watched my favorite team, the Calgary Flames, face off against the Vancouver Canucks. Wearing my Flames jersey with pride, I cheered loudly, my voice blending with the chorus of fans around me. Hockey was my passion, an escape from the daily grind, and nothing could beat the exhilarating rush of a live game.

Tonight's game was crucial, a deciding match in the intense rivalry between the Flames and the Canucks. Every shot, every save, and every body check felt like a matter of life and death. My heart raced with each play, my emotions riding the waves of the game's momentum.

As the final buzzer sounded, the Canucks emerged victorious, leaving me and the other Flames fans disappointed. Despite the loss, I remained loyal, clapping for my team as they left the ice. I decided to linger for a bit, hoping to catch a glimpse of the players as they headed to the locker room.

Navigating the maze of the arena's corridors, I unintentionally found myself in unfamiliar territory. I rounded a corner and collided with someone, sending my purse flying and my heart pounding.

"I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed, bending down to collect my scattered belongings.

"It's okay," a familiar voice replied, and when I looked up, I was met with the unmistakable face of Quinn Hughes, one of the star defensemen for the Vancouver Canucks.

My eyes widened in surprise. I was a fan of the game in general, and I couldn’t help but admire Quinn's skill and finesse on the ice, even if he did play for the opposing team. I tried to hide my excitement as I picked up my purse, my fingers brushing against his in the process.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes filled with genuine concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I assured him, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I should've been more careful."

Quinn chuckled softly, offering me a reassuring smile. "No harm done. Are you here to see someone?"

"Just trying to catch a glimpse of the players before heading home," I admitted, my loyalty to the Flames evident in my voice.

He grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, you've found one."

I couldn’t help but laugh, my initial nervousness melting away. Quinn seemed friendly and down-to-earth, a stark contrast to the fierce competitor I had watched on the ice.

"Congratulations on the win," I said, extending a hand. "You guys played well."

"Thank you," he replied, shaking my hand firmly. "It was a tough game, but we pulled through."

We chatted for a few more minutes, discussing the game and our shared love for hockey. Despite our allegiances to opposing teams, there was a mutual respect between us, a bond formed through our passion for the sport.

As we talked, I found myself drawn to Quinn’s easygoing demeanor and genuine personality. He was more than just a hockey player; he was a young man living out his dream, dedicated to his craft and appreciative of the opportunities he had been given.

Before parting ways, Quinn surprised me by offering to give me a quick tour of the Canucks' locker room. I hesitated for a moment, torn between my loyalty to the Flames and my curiosity to see behind the scenes of an NHL team.

"Come on, it'll be fun," he urged, sensing my hesitation.

With a reluctant smile, I agreed, and he led me through the maze of hallways to the Canucks' locker room. The atmosphere was different from the public areas of the arena, a mix of exhaustion and camaraderie filling the air. Players lounged in their stalls, some joking around while others quietly reflected on the game.

Quinn introduced me to a few of his teammates, each one welcoming and friendly despite my Flames jersey. It was a unique experience, getting a glimpse into the inner workings of an NHL team, and I was grateful to Quinn for the opportunity.

As we walked back towards the exit, Quinn turned to me with a curious expression.

"So, are you always this friendly with opposing players?" he asked, his tone playful.

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Only when they’re as charming as you."

He laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, I'm glad I could make a good impression.”  

The atmosphere between us was light and comfortable, filled with the shared understanding of two people who had found unexpected friendship in the midst of a fierce rivalry. We walked in companionable silence for a few moments, the sounds of the arena fading behind us.

As we reached the exit, Quinn turned to me, a hint of hesitation in his eyes. "Would you like to go out sometime? Maybe grab a coffee or dinner?"

I was taken aback by the suddenness of his question, but the sincerity in his voice was unmistakable. I looked into his eyes, seeing the genuine interest and curiosity there.

"Sure," I replied, a smile spreading across my face. "I'd like that."

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The ambiance of the restaurant was warm and inviting, with soft lighting and a cozy atmosphere. Quinn and I sat at a private table, the soft hum of conversation and clinking of glasses providing a pleasant backdrop to our dinner.

"So, have you ever been here before?" Quinn asked, looking over the menu.

"No, but I've heard great things about their pasta," I replied, scanning the options.

"That sounds good. I think I'll go with the same," he said, closing his menu and handing it to the waiter.

As we waited for our food to arrive, Quinn leaned back in his chair, studying me with a curious expression. "So, tell me more about yourself. What do you do when you're not cheering for the Flames?"

I chuckled, taking a sip of my water. "Well, I work as a graphic designer. It's a creative job, which I love, but it can be pretty demanding at times."

"That sounds interesting. I bet you have a lot of cool projects," he said, genuinely interested.

"Yeah, it's a lot of fun. What about you? When you're not playing hockey, what do you like to do?"

Quinn grinned, leaning forward slightly. "I enjoy spending time outdoors, hiking, and fishing. I also like to travel when I can, exploring new places and experiencing different cultures."

"That sounds amazing. I love hiking too, although I don't get to do it as often as I'd like," I said, feeling a connection over our shared love for the outdoors.

Our conversation flowed effortlessly as we shared stories and learned more about each other's interests and hobbies. The food arrived, and we continued to talk between bites, savoring the delicious meal and the company.

At one point, Quinn brought up the recent Flames-Canucks game, a topic that could have been awkward given our allegiances to opposing teams. However, we approached it with humor and mutual respect, acknowledging the excitement and intensity of the rivalry.

"So, how did you feel about the last game?" he asked, a playful twinkle in his eye.

"I was a bit disappointed, of course," I admitted with a mock sigh. "But you guys played well."

Quinn chuckled, nodding in agreement. "It was a tough match. I have to say, though, it's been interesting getting to know you and having someone to discuss the games with from the other side."

I smiled, touched by his sincerity. "I feel the same way. It's been a refreshing change, and it's made me appreciate the sportsmanship and camaraderie that can exist between fans of opposing teams."

As the evening progressed, the restaurant's atmosphere grew more intimate, the dim lighting and soft music creating a romantic setting. We continued to talk and laugh, the conversation flowing naturally as we discovered more about each other's lives and aspirations.

As we finished our dessert and coffee, Quinn looked at me with a genuine smile, his eyes reflecting the connection we had formed over the course of the evening.

"I've really enjoyed tonight," he said, his voice soft and sincere. "I'm glad we had the chance to get to know each other better."

"I feel the same way," I replied, my heart fluttering with excitement and anticipation. "It's been a wonderful evening." 

We stood together, a comfortable silence settling between us as we took in the beauty of the night sky and the city lights.

"Y/N," Quinn began, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "I was wondering... would you like to go out with me again? Maybe catch a movie next weekend?"

I felt a surge of happiness at his words, my cheeks warming with delight.

"I would love to," I said, smiling up at him.

A relieved smile spread across Quinn's face, his eyes sparkling with joy.

"That's great to hear," he said, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "I was hoping you'd say yes."

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The soft glow of the movie screen illuminated the darkened theater as Quinn and I settled into our seats, popcorn and drinks in hand. The atmosphere was buzzing with excitement as moviegoers waited for the film to begin, the scent of buttery popcorn filling the air.

As the lights dimmed and the previews started, Quinn leaned over to me, his arm brushing against mine.

"I've been looking forward to this movie," he whispered, his voice filled with anticipation.

"Me too," I replied, smiling back at him.

Just as we settled into the movie, a young woman approached our row, her eyes widening in recognition as she spotted Quinn.

"Quinn Hughes?" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of surprise and excitement.

Quinn turned towards her, his face polite but guarded. "Hey, how's it going?"

"I'm a huge fan," she gushed, her eyes darting to me briefly before returning to Quinn. "Can I get a selfie with you?"

"Of course," Quinn replied, obliging her request with a friendly smile.

As they posed for the photo, the woman glanced at me again, her expression turning judgmental.

"So, who's this?" she asked, nodding towards me.

"This is Y/N," Quinn said, introducing me with a warm smile.

The woman's eyes flicked from Quinn to me and back again, a look of disbelief crossing her face.

"Really? You're with her?" she said, her tone dripping with condescension.

I felt a flush of embarrassment and discomfort, taken aback by her rude comment. Quinn sensed my discomfort immediately, his protective instincts kicking in.

"Yes, I am," he replied firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Y/N is a great person, and I'm enjoying our time together. That's what matters to me."

The woman seemed taken aback by Quinn's response, her smirk fading as she realized she had overstepped.

"Uh, right," she muttered, glancing between Quinn and me. "Well, it was nice meeting you. Enjoy the movie."

With that, she hurried back to her seat, leaving Quinn and me alone once more.

"I'm sorry about that," Quinn said, turning to me with a look of concern. "Are you okay?"

I nodded, touched by his defense and support. "Yeah, I'm okay. Thanks for standing up for me."

Quinn smiled, squeezing my hand reassuringly. "Anytime. Let's not let that ruin our evening."

Though his words were comforting, I couldn't shake off the woman's judgmental glance. A wave of insecurity washed over me, making me feel self-conscious and uneasy. I tried to focus on the movie, but the incident kept replaying in my mind.

As the film continued, I found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. The weight of the woman's words pressed on me, and I began to withdraw into my thoughts, becoming distant.

Sensing my change in demeanor, Quinn looked over at me with concern.

"Y/N, is everything okay?" he asked softly, his eyes searching mine.

I hesitated, struggling with whether or not to express my feelings. But the words remained trapped inside, my insecurities preventing me from speaking up.

"I'm fine," I said, forcing a smile. "Let's just enjoy the movie."

Quinn seemed unconvinced but didn't press further, respecting my desire to change the subject. We continued to watch the movie, but the atmosphere between us had shifted, a subtle distance growing as I grappled with my feelings.

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As the credits rolled and the lights in the theater came on, Quinn turned to me once more, his eyes filled with warmth.

"Did you enjoy the movie?" he asked, trying to gauge my reaction.

"It was great," I replied, my voice lacking enthusiasm. "Thanks for bringing me."

Quinn sensed something was off but didn't push, respecting my boundaries. We left the theater, the night air crisp and cool around us.

"Would you like to grab a coffee or something?" Quinn suggested, trying to salvage the evening.

"I think I'm just going to head home," I said, avoiding his gaze.

Quinn looked at me, concern etched on his face. "Are you sure everything's okay?"

I took a deep breath, struggling to find the words to express my feelings. But the weight of my insecurity and the fear of ruining our evening further held me back.

"I'm just tired," I said, offering a weak smile. "But thanks for tonight. I had a good time."

Quinn looked at me intently, sensing that something was off. He didn't buy my explanation.

"Y/N, you don't seem okay," he said, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Let me drive you home."

I hesitated for a moment, the weight of my insecurities battling with the desire to be honest with Quinn. Finally, I nodded, grateful for his offer.

"Okay," I replied softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Quinn took my hand, leading me out of the theater and to his car.

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The drive home was quiet, the tension palpable as we navigated the streets in silence. I could feel Quinn's concern beside me, his presence comforting yet also a reminder of the unspoken tension between us.

As we approached my apartment, Quinn pulled over and turned to me, his eyes searching mine.

"Y/N, please talk to me," he said softly. "I can tell something's bothering you, and I want to be here for you."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I looked at him, overwhelmed by his kindness and understanding.

"I'm sorry, Quinn," I finally said, my voice breaking. "I can't stop thinking about what that woman said at the theater. I know it shouldn't bother me, but it does."

Quinn reached over, gently wiping away my tears with his thumb.

"Y/N, people will always have opinions," he said, his voice gentle yet firm. "But what matters is how we feel about each other. I really like you, and I don't want one person's judgment to come between us."

looked at him, touched by his words and the sincerity in his eyes. In that moment, I felt a surge of warmth and affection for him, grateful for his understanding and unwavering support.

"Quinn," I began, my voice soft but steady. "I appreciate everything you've said and done tonight. You've been so kind and patient with me."

He smiled gently, his eyes full of warmth and affection. "Y/N, I really care about you. I want to be more than just friends. I want to be with you. Will you be my girlfriend?"

His words took me by surprise, my heart skipping a beat at the realization of what he was asking. I felt a rush of emotions - happiness, excitement, and a hint of nervousness.

"Yes, Quinn," I said, unable to suppress the smile that spread across my face. "I would love to be your girlfriend."

Quinn's face lit up with joy, his smile widening as he reached for my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine.

"Thank you," he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "You mean a lot to me, Y/N."

I leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, feeling a wave of happiness wash over me. In that moment, I knew that Quinn Hughes had become more than just a friend - he was someone special, someone I cared deeply about. As we pulled apart, our eyes locked in a moment of shared affection and understanding. I hesitated for a second, my heart pounding with a mixture of nervousness and excitement.

"Do you want to come in?" I asked softly, my voice tinged with anticipation.

Quinn smiled, his eyes lighting up with warmth and affection.

"I'd love to," he replied, his voice gentle and sincere.

[scuderiasundays]

happy wife, happy life

summary: flights on air verstappen, a game of padel, and declarations of love + a little insta au at the end 💌

words: 919

a/n: here’s part two to better together. i’m considering making this a multi-part story so let me know if that’s something you’d want! hugs and kisses 🫶🏼

"Austin, Mexico City, São Paulo, Las Vegas, Abu Dhabi. Any preference?"

Lando’s voice was drowned out by the celebratory air coursing through McLaren Hospitality. He was calling from his driver room in Lusail, still soaked in champagne after a phenomenal comeback drive.

“I think you’ve earned the right to pick. My God, three podiums in a row, Lando!”

You squealed, as if you weren’t speaking to the very man who had accomplished this feat.

After a quick pause, he replied, “Vegas, it is then. I think I can secure seats on Air Verstappen if I use my charm.”

-

Max, the first of Lando's friends you’d been introduced to, extended his hand as you stepped onboard.

"So, this is 'airport girl.' I've heard quite a bit about you," he said, stealing glances at a blushing Lando.

You shook his hand. "Only good things, I hope."

The setting sun painted the cabin a soft orange as dinner was served, seamlessly shifting the conversation toward plans for the weekend. "Are we still up for padel on Friday?" Max asked, the anticipation evident in his voice.

"We're short a player. Jon busted his shoulder last week, so I'm in need of an alternate," Lando replied.

Max gestured towards you. "She's right next to you, mate."

Mid-bite, you wagged your finger at both Max and Lando. Racket sports weren’t your forte, and the idea of padel with ragingly competitive Formula 1 drivers made you queasy.

-

You’d assumed the 12-hour flight had been long enough for Lando to let go of the whole idea. He, however, promptly proved you wrong as he lifted your bags into the back of a blacked-out Escalade.

“Remember that book you were reading? The one about love languages?” You nodded, climbing into the car.

“Well, I figure my love language is quality time. And what better way to spend our time than with a game of padel?”

You hesitated, jokingly glaring at him. "I never thought that book was going to come back and bite me in the ass.”

“Karma is your boyfriend,” he whispered as he laced his fingers around yours.

The casual mention of "boyfriend" (and his general knowledge of Taylor Swift lyrics) caught you off guard and, as your heart raced, you made a desperate effort to maintain composure. You couldn’t possibly say no to his desperate gaze and, so with a loud sigh, you caved.

-

The days that followed felt more like a haze. DJ Lando stole the show at Omnia, carrying a wasted Oscar home in the aftermath. Golfer Lando took you to glow-in-the-dark mini-golf, subsequently blaming his loss on a lack of practice (“You should see me at my best”). F1 Lando gave you a little peck before disappearing into the media pen. You’d been so engrossed in it all that you were on the padel court before you knew it.

As the points went back and forth, you and Lando found yourselves in a playful dispute over who was the rightful owner of the five dollars you’d won at the slots. Lando had paid but you had pushed the button that had brought you sweet victory.

Max quickly interjected, "Maybe you two should save the bickering for the post-game press conference."

George, echoing Max, teased, "He’s got a point. Beware or you’ll be immortalized as a sassy TikTok sound.”

“You know, I’m here to fight. I’m here to win.” Lando said, taunting George as he prepared to serve.

Much to everyone’s surprise, you and Lando turned out to be a stellar team, securing a hard-fought win. Instead of the traditional champagne spray, you spritzed a sweaty Lando with your perfume.

"I smell like you now," he said with a smirk.

You caught your breath on a bench as George strutted over, towering over you.

"You’re already on his mind 24/7. Now, you want to linger on his clothes too? Greedy!"

As you and Lando were about to head back to the car, a few fans hurried over, their elation palpable.

“We’re huge fans, Lando. Could we get a quick photo before you go?”

Lando was quick to oblige and asked you to hold their gifts (a snapback and a handful of bracelets). You offered to take photos of him with the girls, his aura radiant as he took his time to thank each of them.

Little did either of you know, the photos of you and him at the padel courts would soon be circulating all over social media, your phones blowing up with notifications from countless F1 gossip accounts.

-

In the dim glow of the car's interior, you caught a glimpse of him, jaw clenched and a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. The not-so-soft hum of the engine roared as you cut through the tension.

"Hey, what’s on your mind?"

"I just never want you to feel suffocated by all the noise that comes with being my girlfriend."

"Your girlfriend?" you teased, masking your anticipation with feigned innocence.

He sighed, his hands momentarily tightening on the steering wheel. The car smoothly veered into an old gas station, its solitary lights flickering in the night.

He turned to face you, his eyes searching yours. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

A smile lit up your face. "I thought I already was.”

He shook his head, a mixture of exasperation and affection on his face. "You truly are impossible, y’know."

"Snap a picture of your girl then, Mr. JPG," you quipped.

His hands searched the backseat for his Leica.

"Happy wife, happy life.”

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

liked by martingarrix, yourusername, and 41,414 others 

landonorris: on a roll! two more to go 👊🏼

ciscanorris: couldn’t be more proud. i sense a mclaren 1-2 coming!

mclaren: mother knows best ✨

fan1: king of the soft launch

oscarpiastri: let’s finish the season off strong!

maxverstappen1: some of the line calls made by your doubles partner were questionable 🤨 

max_fewtrell: a partner other than i? whoever could it be?

landonorris: i’m starting to doubt my friendships with guys named max

fan2: i’m all for it so long as mystery girl gives us the boyfriend content we deserve 🫶🏼

tags 📝

@silverstonesainz @monzabee @sainzcaleruega @vamossainz55 @0-atmilklatte @aacherrylips @merchelsea @al-luvx @itsjustkhaos @allenajade-ite @simp4f1 @strawberrysainz @avenger122 @405rry @lpab @thebrccoliwasdone @antiheroleclerc

[suashii]

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒯𝒲𝒪 𝒮𝒯𝑅𝒜𝒲𝒮

info ⭑ itadori yuuji x reader. 1.2 wc. sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ college au ﾉ basketball player!yuuji

“here comes trouble.” your coworker’s voice juxtaposes the otherwise quiet of the dining area. you look up from your phone that’s supposed to be sitting with your things in the back room. that’s when you see what she means—it’s the group of men making their way from the parking lot to the front door of the diner; the university’s basketball team. “your boyfriend’s with them, too,” she adds.

“boyfriend?” you ask through a snort, shoving the cellular device in your back pocket. your eyes scan each of their faces through the windows as they approach. there’s only one person amidst the crowd that the girl could be talking about. the guy who is pretty much the epitome of friendship and sunshine, hence your coworker’s remark, yuuji itadori.

you shake your head and bump the girl’s hip with your own. the bell above the door rings with your next statement. “shut up and go get them some menus.”

she wiggles her eyebrows at you before turning on her heel and greeting the team. they’re here often; you’re sure that your workplace has become their official spot to visit after winning games they play at home. you’ve never minded their presence. despite your coworker describing them as trouble, the group doesn’t ever cause you any grief. at the most, they’re a little rowdy; still wearing down from the adrenaline of their victory. you find their energy refreshing. it’s not often that you make it to the games since you’re usually busy working during them, so their meals here are as close as you can get to the action.

“i was hoping you’d be working tonight.” a head of soft pink hair pops up in front of you as yuuji takes a seat at the bar. it’s damp and, visibly, you can’t tell whether it’s from him sweating or taking a shower but the citrusy scent that wafts across the counter is enough to tell you that he washed up.

“lucky you, then,” you say with a smile. the corners of his eyes crinkle as he returns the expression, never looking away from you. unlike him, you can’t hold his gaze. he’s far from intimidating but something behind his eyes is intense and you know that you’ll spend an unreasonable amount of time trying to figure out what it is if you keep staring.

you tug the pen off of the pocket of your apron and click it. wet, dark ink is already dragging across the page of your notepad when you ask yuuji for his order. “the usual?”

“yep,” he pops the “p.” each time he’s in here he gets the same thing—a cheeseburger with a side of french fries. you know it by heart now, just like how you’ve come to learn that he’s the type to drizzle ketchup on his fries rather than dipping them. though, tonight he has some interest in another item on the menu. “oh, and can i get a milkshake, too?”

you raise your eyebrows in wonder at the addition to his order but, nevertheless, your hand scribbles down the shorthand for a milkshake. “sure. what flavor?”

“surprise me.”

finally, your eyes dart up from the notepad and land on yuuji. he’s smiling at you. it’s a different smile from the polite one that’s usually plastered on his face. it’s more of a grin, and a cheeky one, at that. you breathe out a short laugh while scrawling down your choice of flavor. “got it.”

the tear that accompanies you ripping the sheet out of the notebook is drowned out by an obnoxious yet predictable cacophony of cheers and laughter. you glance over your shoulder as you turn in the order to the kitchen. yuuji’s team is seated a couple of tables down from where he’s situated at the bar. they always seem to have a fun time winding down after their games. yuuji’s decision to stray from them has always made you wonder why he never joins in on their mini after parties.

you turn to face him. the noise doesn’t seem to bother him in the slightest; he’s preoccupied responding to a text. a second later, he sets his phone down and his eyes are back on you. you ask him the question that’s been nagging at you, “how come you never sit with them?”

he shrugs but, despite the indecisive gesture, his answer comes easily like he didn’t have to think about it at all. “i’d rather talk to you.”

his statement makes your eyes widen a bit. you disguise your surprise by lightly shaking your head but you can’t hide the smile threatening your lips. there’s something flattering about it, the way he’s made a habit of drifting towards you. it’s also confusing—you can’t tell whether or not he’s keeping you company just to be nice or if there’s more to it.

you ask him about his game to stop yourself from overthinking the matter, and it works. yuuji has a knack for making anything he talks about interesting. his tone is animated like he’s telling a story and he even goes as far as acting out some of the more thrilling scenes. it’s almost as if you were actually there watching him from the stands. eventually, you’d like to make that a reality.

you’re about to ask him when the next game is when a call from the kitchen catches your attention. you quickly retrieve his order and set it on the counter in front of him. his light caramel eyes fall to the glass holding his milkshake. “strawberry, huh?”

you smile, pointing to your head with one hand while grabbing a straw from your apron with the other. “it’s the hair.” you hold the paper-wrapped cylinder out to him.

he chuckles at the reasoning behind your choice and accepts the straw. a flash of white waves across your eyes. “can i have another one of these? please?”

“got a date?” you kick yourself for letting what was meant to be nothing more than a jealous thought manifest into words. you reach into your apron, hoping that the question sounded like it came from a place of curiosity rather than one of bitterness. because who were you to feel wronged in this situation? you slide the straw across the surface, eager to hear his response.

he picks up the straw from the counter and offers it to you with a bright smile. “only if you’re up for it.”

your heart skips a beat at his unforeseen reply. it’s a straightforward answer to your unspoken queries about his feelings for you. his deviation from his friends and tendency to sit in your section all made sense now. you can decipher that lingering look behind his eyes that you couldn’t quite put your finger on earlier—it’s affection, tenderness—nothing for you to shy away from no matter how intense it is because it didn’t take a genius to tell that you feel the same way.

you pluck the straw from his fingers, mirroring yuuji’s smile. “count me in.”

salutations from sua !! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

[reysdriver]

In Public | J.P.

Day 5 of Kinktober: Public Sex — james x gn!reader smut

warnings: 18+, Minors DNI - smut, semi-public sex, shower sex, mentions of getting caught, oral (male-receiving), a little bit of gagging/choking, cum facial, probably lowkey uncomfortable sex

words: 1.3k

a/n: IT'S FINALLY HERE! I'm sorry I'm late but I promise I'm catching up on the missing kinktober days, do not fret

Every time Gryffindor won a game of Quidditch, you wanted to give James some kind of reward. Usually, you gave him some sweets or a handmade gift right after the game, then you waited until that night to give him the other half of his reward for winning. 

And today, Gryffindor won again—half just because of James. You wanted to make him feel extra good after that game, and you were feeling far more impatient than usual. 

James had already started walking towards the school with a pep in his step, excited to meet you in the Gryffindor common room just like you did every game. He knew he would be getting something as a treat for winning his match. Both of you sometimes wondered if he was just playing for a daily kiss on the cheek at this point. 

But when he saw you in the middle of the crowded room celebrating Gryffindor’s victory, your hands were empty. No bag of jelly slugs, no miniature pies you had snuck into the kitchens to make, not even a little animal you folded out of paper. It was just you. And even though he wasn’t sad to see you, he had gotten his hopes up beforehand. 

You didn’t seem fazed at all when you locked eyes with him, despite your empty hands. You ran up to your boyfriend excitedly.

“Jamie! You did so well out there!” You told him, then wrapped your arms around him and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

He pouted. “You don’t have a gift for me, love?”

“Who said that?” You pulled off of him and smirked slightly. “Of course I have something for you.”

“So what is it?”

You feigned a shocked look, like he had suggested something so lewd. “I can’t give it to you here, James. We’d get detention for the rest of our lives.” You leaned forward and whispered into his ear in your best bedroom voice. “But I’ll be able to give it to you if you take me up to your dorm.”

He finally clued in to what you meant and you could feel his whole body stiffen. “Oh, well, I should shower first. I don’t want to stink while you give me whatever it is you have up in my room.” He tried to speak like you were still talking about a handwritten note so the people around you wouldn’t know what you meant. 

“How about I come with you?” You suggested while batting your eyelashes at him. “It’s just as good as your dorm, plus you could have a shower and your reward at the same time.”

“I think that’s a fantastic idea, love.” He smiled. “The kind of thing that reminds me of how much I love you.”

And with that, you took his hand and you walked—more like a giddy jog, honestly—down the hall to the boys’ bathroom. As soon as you two chose a stall, you started stripping down out of your clothes. 

“If anyone catches us, we’re still getting that detention, though.” James commented 

“It’s way more private here.” You pointed out. “But even if we do get caught, I think it’s worth it.”

You slung yours over the stall door, just caring about them not getting wet, while James took care to fold his uniform nicely and place them beside your stuff. Noticing the look you were giving him, James rushed to his own defence. 

“It’s the star player’s kit, it’s an important piece of fabric! Even worth waiting a few extra seconds for this.”

 “Are your clothes safe and sound now, Jamie?” You mocked him. 

“As safe as I can make them.” He replied, even though he knew you were making fun of him. 

You reached behind your boyfriend’s back and turned on the water to the temperature you normally liked, but was far too hot for James to ever shower with unless he was with you. 

He flinched slightly once it hit his bare back, but you soothed him by cupping his strong jaw and crashing your lips against his. It was obvious James trusted you to take the lead, meaning he wasn’t entirely sure what to do right then, especially with his hands. He opted to subtly reach behind him and turn the water temperature down, which you noticed immediately. 

You stopped kissing him, and just looked at him with a raised eyebrow for a second. 

“I’m sorry, love, just tell me what to do from now on.”

“Just relax. Put your hands on my head if your heart desires, but you don’t need to do anything.”

After that, you lowered yourself onto the ground, kneeling just a few inches away from James’ massive cock. It certainly wasn’t the first time you’ve seen it, but the size managed to take you by surprise every time. You brought a hand up to the erection that had already started growing, then gave him a few pumps to ensure he was hard for you. 

James was looking down and watching what you were doing to him, but you didn’t feel nervous at all. Maybe that’s what love is. In fact, you actually enjoyed him watching you, and you looked up to make eye contact with him. 

“Are you ready?” You asked softly. 

“Of course. It’s the reason I won the Quidditch game.” Even though he absolutely had not known that this was your plan before he got on the pitch, you didn’t say anything about it. 

You just leaned forward, bringing James’ cock to your mouth and swiping the tip a few times with your tongue before filling your mouth with as much as him as you could fit. James let out a heavy breath, right at the same time as you gagged around him. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, not wanting to ruin the mood but still worried after you choked on his length. 

You nodded, then sucked on what you could fit in your mouth, and just stroked the part of James’ dick that you couldn’t. 

You kept going, knowing you were doing well because of the noises that came out of your boyfriend as you worked on him. It was honestly getting to a point where your whole face was getting numb, but his moans were masking all of that going on with you. 

“I’m gonna cum, love.” James said, interrupting his own chorus of groans. ”Where do you want it?” 

You pulled off of him just for a moment to answer him. “Wherever you want it, Jamie. This is your present, right?”

James was surprised he didn’t finish right there, hearing your raspy, seductive voice while you stroked him like you didn’t even have to think about it. 

“I wanna cum on your face.” 

You smiled, and took him out of your mouth, but continued to jerk him off so he could end how he wanted. 

With a moan that echoed throughout the whole bathroom, James reached his climax, painting your face with thick spurts of his cum and making you even more of a masterpiece than you were in his eyes. 

You kept going until it was all out of him and on you instead, then you stood up and looked at James; you were both grinning at each other. 

“I feel like that was way too good of a gift for one little Quidditch game, but I loved it.”

“I thought you would.” You said. “So, I should probably stick to this as the present after a really important game then?”James brought his hands to your face, wiping away the mess he had just made after taking a minute to admire how you looked covered in him. “I don’t care how important the game is, now that I know this is a possibility, Gryffindor will never lose again.”