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#rugby wc
maxgirl29 · 11 months
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Let the fireworks start!!!!!!
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gresit · 11 months
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if I start making unhinged text posts it’s bc it’s all blacks v pumas at 2pm and I have pre game stress
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ehghtyseven · 1 year
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george ford 27 - 10 argentina
give him absolutely anything he wants
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sucks that I have to get up this early these days, I missed Wales' AND Krzysztof Ratajski's wins last night!!
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world-of-wales · 2 years
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The Princess of Wales photographed before the 2021 rugby league World Cup men's Quarter Final match between England and Papua New Guinea at DW Stadium in Wigan in north-west England on November 5, 2022.
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bruisedboys · 2 years
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mal what have u been working on recently?? any wips?
I have a rugby!james wip that I’m super excited about, it still needs a lot of work but I like where it’s going!! I also have about a million other wips that are about three paragraphs long and will never ever get finished </3
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kyogos · 3 months
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I need to be paid every time something im watching gets suspended due to weather
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epuiseeparmedia · 1 year
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Damn England is going to win it , isn’t it?
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scavengerridley · 1 year
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C'est quoi cette merde ?
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taeghi · 1 month
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game changer
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your investigation into the rivalry between the baseball and hockey teams takes an unexpected turn when both captains, heeseung and sunghoon, vie for your attention. and now you find yourself in the middle of a story that promises to be bigger than any game.
PAIRING : hockey captain!sunghoon x sports reporter!yn x baseball captain!heeseung
GENTRE: SMUT, love triangle, threesome duh, oral, unprotected sex, cum eating lol, praise, degradation. uhhh probs more but i forget ily
WC : 20.2k
mdni
truth be told, you hated sports. 
you hated the religious jerseys, the chants, the complex rules– how it was so boring. 
but, sometimes the athletes were hot. 
in junior year you joined your college’s newspaper, you thought it would help your journalism major. your boss had told you the only opening was for the college’s sports reporter since the previous one had “given up”. although you had repetitively asked if there was literally any other opening, sports was the only one. 
and thus, you have become your college’s sports reporter. 
your college has multiple sports teams; basketball, baseball, rugby, football. but the teams that your college are most proud of– the teams that would fill the bleachers every game– is the baseball and hockey teams. 
honestly, you don’t get either sport. one was on grass and the other was ice and you try to get some object in a net. you could care less. 
the baseball and hockey teams have a hatred for one another that the students at your school seem to enjoy. though, the reason for the strong hatred is unknown. you’ve asked your friends in passing about the teams, but their answer is always a prediction or suggestion. 
the real reason is kept by the baseball and hockey teams, like a secret only they can know. 
and so, you’ve made your number one goal as sport’s reporter to find out what that secret is, and nothing will stop you– not even the awful smell of the change rooms.
the captain of the baseball team is lee heeseung. you know he was appointed captain quite early into his college baseball career. you remember everyone talking about it during your freshman year, about how odd it was for a freshman to become captain so quickly. 
you also know lee heeseung is fucking hot. 
he is extraverted and outgoing, a real sweetheart. you’ve heard people refer to him as a golden retriever before. the way he’s so playful, enthusiastic and friendly to everyone. 
but sometimes, that friendliness turns into flirting, and no one can deny lee heeseung’s flirting. he can easily charm anyone into bed with him with just his words and dazzling smile. he has an uncanny ability to captivate anyone. his natural charisma and genuine warmth make him irresistible. which leaves a trail of admirers just for him. 
the hockey team’s captain is no other than park sunghoon. 
sunghoon is enigmatic to say the least. he gives an aura of mystery and danger that seems to draw people in like moths to a flame. he’s known to have gotten into a lot of fights on and off the ice, almost losing his captain privilege once or so you’ve heard. 
sunghoon’s strong presence practically commands attention wherever he goes. his trademark smirk has gotten him into a lot of fun and a lot of trouble. you’ve seen him at a party, alone in a corner, pretending to talk to his friends, as he scans the party for a decent girl. once he’s fixed you with his intense gaze, smirk and nods in silent invitation, any girl is powerless to resist following him up to his bedroom.  park sunghoon and lee heeseung’s opposed allures are undeniable, their appeals irresistible, but you are determined to not fall for it. you must stick to your duty of finding out the secrets of the baseball and hockey teams– even if it means resisting the most desirable men at your college.
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your first day on the job is picture day for all the athletes at your school. you are tasked with asking a few of the athletes some questions you had to come up with about their sport and how they are feeling about the upcoming sport season. 
it couldn’t be too bad you think. 
“everyone!” coach davis calls everyone’s attention, “we have a new reporter today, her name is y/n.” 
suddenly, it feels like every single pair of eyes on this soccer field is looking at you. you’re surrounded by what feels like one hundred men at once. 
“what happened to kevin?” someone calls out to the coach, the boy is on the soccer team by the looks of his uniform. 
“he quit.” coach davis explains. 
“no, he had a mental breakdown.” a boy in a basketball uniform clarifies. 
your head tilts in concern at the information. you were only told that the previous reporter had quit. no alleged mental breakdown was mentioned in your interview with your manager. what the hell happened to kevin with this job?
coach davis sighs beside you, his fingers pressing his nose bridge, “anyways, as i was saying,” the coach gives you a look of sympathy, “y/n here is our new reporter, so please treat her nicely like i know you all can. and take it easy on her, it’s her first day.” 
there is a mixed reaction from the large crowd in front of you and you don’t know where to look besides the ground. a few of them reply with “yes, coach”, while others are trying to stifle a laugh or are laughing. you can practically feel them judging or teasing you from across the field. by theirs and the coach's reaction, you wonder if they had a part in kevin’s “mental breakdown”. 
you have no idea how today is going to go.
after each athlete has done their team and solo photo for the year, they’re gonna line up for you to ask them a few questions for the college newspaper and yearbook. the first team that is done is the baseball team. there is about 20 of them in a circle when you walk up to them, your heart palpitating once you realize how many of them there are and how tall they all are. 
one of the baseball players notices you walking up and nods to the rest of the group, “there she is. ready for a mental breakdown?” 
a few of his teammates laugh while one nudges him to shut up. 
“well, i didn’t really plan to have one today, but if it happens, then it happens.” you shrug, making the baseball player laugh in response. 
“my name’s jake,” he reaches his hand out for you to shake. 
“yeah, well jake here,” the teammate who nudged him earlier puts his hands on jake’s shoulder, “is gonna go to the back of the line where he can learn to be nicer.” 
jake scoffs, “heeseung, i was just joking with her.” he turns around to face his captain. 
it’s then that you finally get to look at lee heeseung in his baseball uniform. he’s taller than you thought, and he’s more tan than ever- probably from practicing baseball recently. but up close like this, he really is so attractive. 
“i don’t care, coach said to be nice and go easy on her today,” heeseung’s voice is stern, playing his captain role, “go to the back of the line you’ll go last.” 
jake doesn’t say much more before he walks to the back of the line, his teammates teasing him as he passes them. 
heeseung steps forward to you, “sorry about that, our previous reporter had a, uh…” 
“a mental breakdown?” you finish for him. 
a pretty smile spreads across heeseung’s face, “well yeah, i was trying to make it sound a bit better, but yeah he did.” 
“so, i’ve heard. but don’t worry,” you put your hand on your heart, “i promise to try to not have a mental breakdown today.” 
heeseung laughs, “yeah that'll probably be for the best.” he steps closer to you, reaching his hand out like jay had done, “i’m lee heeseung.” 
your hand meets his, “yeah, i know.” heeseung tilts his head with a smile as you try to ignore your stupidity. “i’m y/n y/l/n.” 
heeseung smiles at you as you try to ignore how much longer his hands are compared to yours, “so what questions do you have?” 
“oh right,” you snap back in reality as you snatch your hand away from his, instead you start to flip through your notebook. you clear your throat when you look at the first question you had written down specifically for lee heeseung. you press record on your voice recorder and hold it up between the two of you to catch your voices. “uh, how do you feel about being the captain of the baseball this year?” 
heeseung smiles at your question, it not faltering on his face as he answers, “it’s a big responsibility. but i love it, you know? the team is like a family to me.” 
you nod at his sweet answer, not expecting anything else but it. your eyes glance down to the second question on your notebook. you know the next one may cause his perfect smile to drop. “so, everyone on campus knows that there’s always been a rivalry between the baseball and hockey teams. as the captain of the baseball team, do you have anything to add onto that?” 
you notice heeseung’s smile falters at your mention of the hockey team, but it doesn’t completely fade from his face like you had thought it would.  instead, he answers calmly to your question. “i mean, we just try to focus on our own game. we don’t let some tension affect how we play.” 
you nod, biting your lip at how professionally he replied. it wasn’t exactly the answer you wanted, but he did acknowledge that there was in fact some tension between the two teams. “okay, and lastly, what do you think is the biggest misconception about the baseball team?” 
heeseung’s smile brightens again, “i think people think we’re just jocks, but there’s a lot of heart and hard work behind what we do. we’ll definitely be winning a lot of games this year.” 
you smile at his answer and stop your recording, “thanks heeseung, that was great.” 
“it’s no problem,” he points with his thumb behind his shoulder, “good luck with the rest of them, if they give you any trouble just let me know.”
“i’m sure i’ll be fine, heeseung. but thanks,” 
heeseung smiles again, “i’ll see you around then, y/n. i’m looking forward to it.” you notice his eyes run over your face, scanning your features, before they briefly glance over your body until they meet your eyes again. his smile never leaves his face. 
you pretend to not notice his eye path and smile back at him, “see you, heeseung.” heeseung turns and walks towards coach davis. 
you look down at your notebook again, clicking your pen and checking off that lee heeseung’s interview was done. the field is loud around  you, and you look around at all the athletes in their different uniforms. you sigh, thinking about how long a day of this is going to be. but hopefully you’ll be able to get a good story out of it for your report. 
you’re reading all the names on the attendance sheet coach gave you, recognizing some names and unfamiliar with the others. you feel someone looking at you, and you glance around the busy field. through all the boys goofing around and laughing, you notice one that’s stood still from a few meters away. 
it only takes a moment for you to realize that it’s park sunghoon. he’s surrounded by a small group of his teammates and they’re all busy with each other except for sunghoon, who’s looking straight at you from over his friend’s shoulder. his black hair is falling into his eyes and you can see his famous moles on his face from here. 
as you make eye contact with him, catching him staring at you, he doesn’t look away. unlike heeseung, who would instantly smile back and beam a golden light, sunghoon’s facial expression doesn’t change. his eyes are piercing and cold as they stare at you. you can tell there’s a hint of curiosity on his features as he analyzes you from across the field. he doesn’t smile, his plump lips stay in a straight line. 
you couldn’t lie and say that you weren’t intrigued by his demeanor. that you weren’t interested in how focused, and almost stubbornly, he was staring at you. his eyes maybe staying on your bare legs from your skirt for a little too long than anyone else would. you thought about interviewing him next, seeing if he would have anything more to say about the rivalry than heeseung did. 
“hey, reporter girl! jungwon wants to be interviewed next!” a boy suddenly calls out to you. you turn and see that it’s another baseball boy, and he’s pointing to a boy beside him who’s probably named jungwon. you smile at them and nod. you turn your head over your shoulder to look back at sunghoon, but he’s not there anymore. you frustratedly pout as the other captain isn’t there anymore. but make your way to the baseball players again. hopefully they will give you more information.
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you groan in your desk chair, staring at the scattered papers and notes in front of you. you had spent hours going over the interviews and information you gathered from picture day, but most of it was useless. the answers you got were vague and unhelpful, leaving you with more questions than answers.
you rub your temples, trying to soothe the growing headache from your relentless efforts. the only thing you can confirm is that there is a rivalry, and everyone knows about it. but no one seems willing to spill the details. it’s like they’re all under a gag order.
you glance at the attendance sheet coach davis gave you on picture day, every name was checked off that you had interviewed– except for park sunghoon. he had disappeared before you could interview him. the field was empty before you realized that you had missed him. 
your frustration bubbles over as you huff, pushing your notebook away. this investigation was turning out to be much more challenging than you anticipated. you thought being the new sports reporter would be relatively easy, but it turns out it’s harder than you imagined. it felt like you were running in circles. 
but at the same time it makes you more determined to uncover the truth. the headline you’ll be able to release makes you excited and you know it’ll be good for your career once you graduate. but for now, you let out another groan and sink back into your chair, contemplating your next move.
the journalism office door opens and blair, the arts and culture reporter of the college, who is also your friend, walks in with a concerned look on her face once she sees you slumped in your chair. 
“are you frustrated?” she asks, setting her bag down on the desk next to you.
“very.”
blair leans against the desk, her eyes sparkling with an idea. “well, if the athletes won’t speak, maybe get information from the students.”
your eyes widen at her suggestion. “blair, you’re a genius!” you exclaim, a renewed sense of determination flooding through you. you jump up from your chair, grabbing blair by the arm.
“what—?” she starts, but you’re already on the move, scooping up your notebook and pen in one swift motion.
“come on, we’re going to get the information from the public. the people who spread the rumors,” you say, practically dragging her out of the journalism office. you’re determined to get some answers. 
you usher blair to get her phone out, recording your interaction with students as you use a makeshift microphone; your voice recorder attached to a ruler. you tell blair to start recording, you start slowly walking back, talking into the “microphone” as you introduce the video. 
“today, we are at enha university,” you speak confidently, “there is a years long feud between the hockey and baseball teams– but what is the reason for it? today we will be asking the students that go to enha university for their opinion.” 
blair stops recording and puts her phone down to smile at you, “that was good, let’s go.” 
you first head out to the main quad, and walk up to a group of students who are sprawled on the grass. “hey guys, mind if we ask you some questions for the school newspaper?” the students all nod and blair pulls out her phone to record again, with her signal, you start, “so what do you know about the feud between the baseball and hockey teams?” you ask, holding up your makeshift microphone, you shove it in the student’s faces. 
“oh, it’s wild,” one student says, eyes wide. “i heard the baseball team thinks the hockey team was behind some major equipment theft. like, they’re convinced the hockey team took their bats!”
“yeah, and the hockey team thinks the baseball team has been spreading rumors to get them disqualified from big games,” another adds.
“okay, but what’s causing them to steal equipment and try to get them banned? what started it?” you press the two of them. 
the students shrug. “don’t know,” one says.
you look at blair’s camera with a frustrated expression, then turn back to the students. “thanks,” you say bluntly before moving on.
at the library stairs, you find a couple of students taking a break. you walk up to them with blair’s phone recording and your microphone up to your lips. 
“have you heard of the baseball and hockey team rivalry?” you ask them once you’re on the stairs with them. 
“oh god, who hasn’t?” one student says, rolling their eyes.
“what have you heard?” you tilt your head and pass the ruler microphone to them. 
“i heard the hockey team once accused the baseball team of planting false reports about them to the administration.”
“and the baseball team is sure the hockey team is trying to sabotage their top players,” another student on the stairs adds.
“thanks for the info,” you say, not pressing further, and nod for blair to follow you. 
once inside the school, you decide to head to the cafeteria. since it’s lunch time, it’s extremely busy. you approach a random group of students that are sitting at a table near a window. 
“what can you guys tell me about the feud  between the hockey and baseball teams?” you ask them, moving to sit beside them at the table. 
the students take note of your microphone and blair’s phone recording before they answer with a laugh. “someone said the baseball team trashed the hockey team’s frat house during a party.”
“yeah, they like, broke furniture and some alcohol bottles or something.” 
you note the details and move on to another group of students nearby.
“what’s up with the rivalry between the baseball and hockey teams?” you ask the trio. 
“some crazy stuff,” one student says. “i heard the hockey team took the baseball team’s playbook.”
“what playbook?” you ask, confused.
“it’s this book full of all the girls they’ve hooked up with over the years,” the student explains. “apparently, the hockey team thought it’d be funny to steal it.”
you exchange a look with blair, “thanks.” 
you and blair step outside into the main quad again. you plan on going back to the journalism office to review the footage and information you and blair recorded. 
“that was definitely some progress,” blair nods at you as she scrolls through the multiple videos on her phone. 
you nod, “yeah i think the playbook rumour was a good start.” 
“right?” blair agrees excitedly, “i mean a book full of all the girls they’ve hooked up with? that’s disgusting, no wonder there’s a feud.” 
you hum, “i wonder where that playbook is now.” 
blair gives you a look like you're onto something, both of you laughing as you continue to walk. she passes you to the phone so you can see how many recordings she got of your interviews. “we sure got a lot of footage,” you start, but blair cuts you off. 
“hey, isn’t that guy on the baseball team?” she says, pointing to a guy walking toward you. you look up and see him glancing down at his phone, a baseball bag slung over his shoulder with the enha university logo.
you recognize him as jake, and you quickly shove blair’s phone into her hand. “record.”
blair starts the recording as you jog over to jake, microphone in hand. “jake, you’re on the baseball team!”
jake glances up, noticing the microphone and blair recording. he chuckles, clearly not surprised. “well, yeah.”
“how do you feel about having a rivalry with the hockey team?” you ask, trying to get straight to the point.
jake raises an eyebrow, clearly puzzled by your question. “why do you want to know?”
you dodge his question and ask, “do you know anything about a playbook?”
jake looks at you, slightly confused. “uh, no?”
“how about a party where things got destroyed?” you press.
jake shrugs, “uh, every party has something destroyed after. what’s this about, y/n?”
you sigh and tell blair to stop recording. “i’m trying to find out the reason for the rivalry between the teams,” you explain.
jake laughs. “good luck with that. it’s just one sided from the hockey team. heeseung’s a good captain.”
you give him a determined look. “what do you mean by that?”
jake chuckles and starts walking away, “see you around, y/n.”
you watch him go across the main quad, determination flooding through you as you cross your arms over your chest. 
“i’m going to find out blair, no matter how hard it takes to break these athletes down. i will find out.” 
blair nods, and links her arm through yours, “yeah, but first, let’s get lunch. i’m starving.”
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you remembered how park sunghoon had skipped your interview during picture day, leaving you with only one comment from one of the captains involved with the rivalry. 
so, you decide to make your way to the hockey rink on campus. 
you’ve heard that sunghoon shows up an hour early to practice. so you think that if you find him now, alone, he’ll be more forthcoming. you figure it’s worth a shot. 
when you reach the rink, you spot him skating alone on the ice, the sound of his skates slicing through the rink echoing in the otherwise quiet space. you glance down hesitantly at the ice below you. it’s clean and shiny and hard. you had never been good at skating. the fear of falling and hitting your head was too big of a fear for you. 
but you glance over at sunghoon, who hasn’t noticed your presence yet, too enthralled by skating.  you watch as he jumps in the air, twirling. and you’re suddenly taken aback by how graceful the jump was. you thought hockey boys were aggressive and rough. you’ve seen them tackle each other on the ice all the time, body checking each other into the rink. but now, sunghoon looked delicate and soft as he glided around. 
you take one more glance at the ice below you and sigh, knowing that you’ll have to face your fear and step onto it. the story was too good to pass up because of a childhood fear. 
you take your first step on the ice and figure that it’s okay. you keep walking slowly over to where sunghoon was. as you approach sooner, almost forgetting that you were even on ice, you feel your foot slip up into the air. you feel yourself falling, but before you can reach the cold ice, an arm catches you to hold you up. 
you open your eyes, and see sunghoon’s face over yours, his arm wrapped around you. he has an annoyed expression on his face as he looks down at you. like he’s judging you for falling. 
but you’re struck by how close you are to him. his skin is as pale as the ice beneath you, and for a moment, you just stare at him, caught off guard by his striking features.
“you should be careful,” he says, his voice as cool as his demeanor.
you pull away and stand up on the ice, still uneasy. “i am careful,” you retort, trying to sound more confident than you feel.
sunghoon raises an eyebrow, his expression distant. he looks you up and down, his eyes landing on your notebook and pen in your hand. “are you here to interview me about hockey?”
you frown, feeling defensive. “uh, i don’t know anything about hockey.”
sunghoon’s curiosity piques. “why are you the sports reporter if you don’t know sports?”
your irritation flares. “look, just tell me about the rivalry between the hockey and baseball teams.”
unghoon’s lips curl into a small, enigmatic smile as he laughs for the first time. the sound catches you off guard, leaving you both confused and nervous.
“the feud that the baseball team started and is constantly complaining about? why don’t you go ask them?” he says, his tone dripping with indifference. “i’m busy.”
sunghoon starts to turn around, but you question him, “how come you’re so good at doing those spins?” 
he stops and turns to look at you over his shoulder, “i’m not good.” he starts to skate off to the other side of the rink. 
you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. park sunghoon is a real piece of work. you start to slowly turn around, your lip pulled between your teeth as you look down at your feet on the ice. you feel your heart start to pound as you try to move across the ice to get off the rink. the ice is just so slippery. you can tell it was cleaned recently. 
suddenly, you feel a firm grip around your waist, and before you can react, sunghoon scoops you up in his arms and skates swiftly over to the side of the rink. you’re shocked at how fast he moves; it’s like he’s gliding on air. you’ve heard that he’s the fastest on the ice, but now that he was skating with you, you could tell how fast he really was. he deposits you gently on the edge, where you stand, stunned.
“uh, thanks,” you manage to stammer, still trying to process what just happened.
sunghoon scoffs, giving you a quick, dismissive glance before skating back to the center of the rink. you watch him, feeling a mix of confusion and embarrassment. you turn to leave, feeling defeated and empty-handed for your report.
“hey, yn!” sunghoon’s voice calls out, making you turn around.
“yeah?” you respond, already halfway to the door. 
“why do you want to know about the rivalry anyway?” he asks, his tone oddly curious.
“because it’s my job to know,”
with that, you spin on your heel and leave the rink, leaving sunghoon to his practice. 
as you walk back to the journalism office,  your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts. park sunghoon and lee heeseung are polar opposites, and it’s no wonder they can’t stand each other. 
sunghoon is so cold like the ice he practices on. he’s distant, wrapped up in his own world. there’s a certain intensity about him, a focus that’s almost intimidating. he’s methodical and precise on the ice, every movement calculated and deliberate. he’s almost unapproachable with his piercing gaze. 
and then heeseung is warm, outgoing and easy to talk to. he’s got this effortless charm and friendliness that makes everyone around him feel at ease. he’s the guy who lights up a room just by being in it, and it’s clear he’s well-liked, even if he’s a bit of a show-off.
you wonder what might have caused such deep hatred for one another. what could it be that connects them besides their role on a sports team. they’re just too different. 
your frustration mounts as you think about how little you’ve uncovered so far. both of them are so closed off to your questions. but it doesn’t make you any less determined to get to the bottom of their feud. no matter how much time it takes. 
there’s a story here, and you’re not giving up until you’ve got it all figured out.
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on friday night, coach davis insisted you attend the baseball game, claiming that it was crucial for your report. so since it was your job, you went. even though you barely understood how baseball worked. still, you found yourself in the bleachers, a notepad in hand, surrounded by other students. 
the game began, and you tried to focus on the actual game, but your eyes kept drifting to heeseung on the field. it was the first time you’d seen him without a smile on his face. his expression was serious, concentrated and his eyes never left the ball. 
you watched as heeseung sprinted across teh field. the crack of the bat echoed, and heeseung was off before anyone else, to catch the ball. you held your breath, washing as he dove and grabbed it from the air. 
the bleachers erupted in cheers, the students jumping up and down around you as sat still. they were all screaming and calling his name. heeseung stood up, his charming smile spreading across his face as he held up the ball, showing off his catch to the audience. 
amidst the chaos, you could have sworn he winked at you.
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on monday morning, after a long weekend of thinking about both captains and the rivalry. ou've been pouring over your notes, trying to piece together the story. you realize you need to hit this head-on. so, you storm into the boys’ hockey changing room first thing in the morning. 
the first thing you notice upon entering is the smell. it's a potent mix of cologne, sweat, and shampoo that makes you turn up your nose in disgust. some of the boys notice you immediately and start teasing you. 
"look who decided to pay us a visit," one of them says, grinning. "if you wanted to see us so bad, you could've just asked."
you roll your eyes, snarky in your response, "trust me, i'm not here because i wanted to see you.” 
another boy chimes in, "kevin never barged in on us while we were changing." he mentions the previous sports reporter you replaced, and you try to ignore their lack of shirts. 
before you can retort, sunghoon appears, his presence commanding attention. "okay, knock it off. go to class," he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. 
the boys groan, but they obey, mumbling about how sunghoon is no fun. as they leave, they wink or nudge you, adding to your frustration. finally, it's just you and sunghoon left alone in the changing room. you notice he's shirtless too, and it makes you gulp.
sunghoon's eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you forget why you're there. his skin is pale, his muscles defined, and he exudes a calm confidence that's both intimidating and intriguing.
"what do you want, y/n?" he asks, his voice steady and cold.
you take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "i need to know about the rivalry between the hockey and baseball teams. i can't write my report without the full story."
sunghoon narrows his eyes slightly, studying you. "and you think barging in here is the way to get answers?"
"i think it's the only way," you reply, your voice firm despite your nerves.
he scoffs softly, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “well i’m showering.” 
you stand your ground as you watch him turn and walk towards the showers, only in his boxers. “so? are you gonna help me or not? i’ll do anything.” you sound desperate and you hate it. sunghoon turns on the shower. the water warming up. 
sunghoon turns to face you, his arms crossing over his bare chest and he quirks his eyebrow, “anything?” 
“anything.” 
a mischievous smile spreads across his face, “then get on your knees and show me just how badly you want it.” 
your breath catches in your throat as you process his demand. he chuckles at your appalled demeanor. he bends down and takes off his boxers, your eyes widened as his semi-hard cock is revealed. he steps back into the shower water– the water pouring over his pale, muscular body. his black hair becomes darker over his eyes. 
you think quickly of your choices. walk away with pride and no story? or give the hot hockey captain a blowjob and get a great story? 
you choose the latter with no further thought. 
you glance around one more time, the locker room is completely empty. you sigh as your hands pull your shirt off of your body, leaving your torso bare for sunghoon to see. his eyes stay fixated on your exposed skin. a smirk grows on his lips as he realizes that you really will do anything. 
you reach down and pull your skirt off, not wanting your clothes to become wet in the shower, and you step into the shower. you slowly sink to your knees, feeling the warm water hit your body now. your heart is pounding in your ears, but you can’t deny the arousal you’re feeling at the same time. 
“that’s it,” sunghoon encourages you, his voice like velvet against the shower walls, “now sow me what that nasty mouth of yours can do.” 
your hands shake as you reach up to touch his warm skin. his cock is harder now, so thick and veiny. you can’t help but let out a soft gasp at the sight. 
“you’ve wanted my cock in your mouth for so long haven’t you?” sunghoon taunts you, his hand reaching down to tangle in your damp hair. “go on then, taste it.” 
you lean forward, your lips wrapping around the sensitive head of his cock, tasting the tang of his arousal. you swirl your tongue, teasing the slit, as sunghoon groans above you.
“fuck, that's good. take more of me," he urges, his hips bucking slightly.
you oblige, taking him deeper into your mouth, relaxing your throat to accommodate his length. your lips slide down his shaft, your breath ghosting over the sensitive skin as you start to bob your head.
"ah, fuck, yes," sunghoon hisses, his hand tightening in your hair. "you're a natural at this, aren't you? sucking cock like a good little slut."
you moan around his thickness, the vibrations sending a shudder through him. the sound of your pleasure seems to spur him on, and he begins to thrust his hips in a slow, steady rhythm, fucking your mouth gently.
"take it,” he growls out at you, “you’re always getting yourself into a mess with that mouth, i think you need to be quiet for a while. so take my cock down your throat like the whore you are.”
his words are degrading, but they only serve to heighten your arousal. you never thought that you would be in this predicament before. so many girls would beg to be on their knees for park sunghoon. you never thought that you would be here, pleasuring him. though, you suppose both of you get something out of it. he gets to cum, and you get information for your story.
you hollow your cheeks, sucking harder, your tongue flattening to lick and tease his cock as you go. 
“oh god,” sunghoon groans out as he stares down at you. you force your eyes to stay open so they can look into his. you can see pure pleasure growing in his eyes. his eyebrows furrowed as he lets the pleasure take over his body. 
“fuck i’m gonna cum,” sunghoon grunts out, his grip on your wet hair tightens and he pulls your mouth off of his cock, leaving a string of saliva to connect your swollen lips to his sensitive tip. “tell me that you want me to cum down your throat.” 
you swallow before you speak, “i want you to cum down my throat, sir.” 
sunghoon hums in response, pleased by your answer. and honestly, you wre thrilled at the thought of tasting him, of having his hot release flooding in your mouth. because even if he was an asshole, he was very hot. you want to give him sexual pleasure, to milk him dry and feel his satisfaction. 
sunghoon shoves his cock back into your mouth roughly. you gag around him and it only makes him grunt out more. you continue to bob up and down his length at a fast pace, wanting him to cum. “fuck yes!” 
sunghoon tenses, his hand fisting in your hair, pulling on it, as he holds you firmly in place. with a deep grunt, he begins to unload inside your mouth. his ropes of hot, sticky cum shoot down your throat. 
and you swallow it all greedily, moaning at the taste. your fingers dig into his thighs. 
sunghoon lets go of you, his body relaxing back into the shower wall. both of your bodies are wet from sweat and the shower water. he’s panting as he catches his breath. his body is slightly shaking as he rides out his orgasm. “that mouth of yours is something else, reporter girl.” 
you raise an eyebrow up at him, his nickname for you brings you back to reality, “right so how about you use your mouth now to tell me my story.” 
sunghoon chuckles as he watches you stand up and exit the shower. you grab a spare towel and dry your body and hair, all while sunghoon stays in the shower, watching you silently. you try to not let yourself get intimidated by his staring. you’re sure that he gets off on making girls intimidated by how attractive he is. him knowing how attractive he is isn’t good for anyone besides him. 
you start to get dressed, your wet hair clinging to your face and neck. 
“i can’t believe you actually gave me a blowjob,” sunghoon grins, amused. you can see an annoying glint in his eye. 
“well you said you would tell me the story.” 
sunghoon shrugs, “yeah i said that. but i don’t have to tell you my story.” 
your jaw drops in disbelief. “are you kidding me? you tricked me!” 
“you’re easier than i expected,”
your anger flares up, cheeks burning. "you think this is funny? you just wasted my time for nothing!"
he crosses his arms, still smirking. "just give up on the rivalry story, y/n. you aren't going to find anything. go back to writing about the sports games. that’s what you were hired for anyways."
you grunt in frustration, grabbing your bag. “you’re so annoying, sunghoon!” you yell as you storm towards the exit. as you leave, you hear his chuckles turn into laughter as they echo in the locker room. 
"see you at the game, reporter girl!" he calls out, his voice mocking.
you don't look back.
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on friday night, you’ve still gotten no new information about the rivalry all week, despite your best efforts. you’ve started to wonder if sunghoon was right and you should give up on the story. even if you really don’t want to. 
you’re sitting at your desk in the journalism office, frustrated. your name plate sits on your desk in front of you with bold letters underneath it that write : sports reporter. and you’re starting to hate looking at it. 
you’ll have to write about the rugby team’s game from the night before for monday’s paper. but your heart isn’t in it. you want to write something more substantial than scores and plays that the rugby players did. 
then, blair walks in, a little pep to her step as she glides through the empty office and straight towards you. “still nothing?” she asks, leaning against your desk. 
“yeah, nothing new,” you reply, staring at your blank screen.
 “maybe you should take the weekend off from this. let’s go to a party tonight.” blair’s eyes light up at the suggestion, her eyes wanting you to agree with her. 
you look up, curious. “whose party?”
 “lee heeseung’s.”
you scramble to grab your bag and swing it over your shoulder as you stand up, “let’s go.” 
blair laughs as you pull her through the office, “don’t you want to change first?” 
you stop and glance down at your plain blouse and plaid skirt, “no, this party is for work. i’ll play later.”
you rush blair to hurry up, your mind set on the party. all you can think about is getting more information about the rivalry. it’s going to be the death of you, but you’re determined to get to the bottom of it.
when
you and blair arrive at the party, the noise and energy hitting you as soon as you step inside the frat house. it’s just as crowded as you expected, and you’ve heard it’s a no hockey team allowed party.
you glance around, trying to spot the baseball players. your eyes land on jake standing by the backdoor. you turn to blair and say, “i’ll see you later,” before heading over to him.
jake notices you approaching and smiles. you can tell he’s already intoxicated just from looking at him. the cup he’s holding is sure to have alcohol in it. 
“hey, y/n!” 
“hi jake!” 
“i didn’t expect to see you here of all people.”
you laugh, “yeah, me neither.” 
jake spreads out his arms to show off the busy house, “well welcome to our party!” 
you nod along, laughing at house extraverted and drunk he is. “yeah, how is the team doing?” 
“we’re doing great! heeseung’s been killing it all season.” 
you tilt your head at the mention of heeseung, “right, i heard he’s pretty good.” 
jake nods enthusiastically. “yeah, he’s the best. i’ve known him for a while.”
“really? how did you guys meet?”
“we went to the same high school,” jake explains. “he was already a legend back then.”
you nod along, smiling, but your mind is racing. you realize that jake could be a goldmine of information about the rivalry. he must know something. you’re determined to get as much out of him as you can.
“that’s cool,” you say. “so, what’s the deal with this rivalry with the hockey team? seems intense.”
jake’s expression shifts slightly. “yeah, it’s complicated. a lot of history there.”
you’re about to press him more when another baseball player bursts in, shouting, “jake, come outside! jeongin is doing a beer keg!”
jake grins, “one sec!” he turns back to you and says, “i’ll see you later?”
you nod, “yeah, sure.”
jake smiles and runs out to join his friends, leaving you alone. you huff in frustration, looking around the crowded room. blair is nowhere in sight.
you start to weave through the crowded rooms, the partiers dancing around you. your eyes scan for any sign of blair, but she seems to have vanished into the sea of people. you turn a corner and nearly collide with someone.
“hey,” a familiar voice says.
you look up and find yourself face to face with heeseung. up close, his attractiveness catches you off guard again, and you’re momentarily speechless. “oh, hi heeseung,” you manage to say.
he flashes a charming smile. “i’ve literally never seen you at a party before, let alone my own party.”
you laugh nervously, “yeah, it’s not really my thing.”
heeseung’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “oh, so why’d you choose to come to this one?”
“uh,” you hesitate, your mind racing. you can’t exactly tell him you’re here to gather information about the rivalry for your report.
heeseung raises an eyebrow, his smile turning slightly mischievous. “to see me?”
you laugh awkwardly, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “well, i mean…”
heeseung laughs too, a warm, genuine sound that makes you feel a bit more at ease. “i’m just messing with you. i’m glad you came, though. it’s nice to see you.” 
you’re really shocked at how good he is at flirting. it makes you almost forget why you’re here. makes you forget that you’re trying to write what is basically an expose on him. 
heeseung’s laughter fades into a soft smile, and he leans against the wall, looking at you with a curious expression. “so, you’re really not into parties? what do you usually do on weekends?”
“mostly just catch up on school work, maybe hang out with friends.” 
he nods, seemingly interested, and then his eyes widen as a thought enters his mind, “
oh wait, you’re in my bio class, right?”
you blink, slightly surprised. “yeah, i am.”
“can you come look at this one question i need help with for my paper?”
you give him a cautious look, unsure of what he’s up to. “uh, sure.”
“cool, it’s up in my room. come on.” before you can protest, heeseung grabs your arm gently and starts weaving through the crowd. you follow him, your heart pounding a little faster with each step.
he maneuvers through the throngs of people effortlessly, his grip on your arm firm yet gentle. he takes you up the stairs, away from the crowds of people below. he leads you down the hallway and finally stops in front of a door and gestures for you to go in first, “after you.” 
you step inside, glancing around his room. it’s surprisingly tidy for a guy’s room, with a few baseball memorabilia scattered around. heeseung closes the door behind you and walks over to his desk, rummaging through some papers.
as you look around, you notice a small, leather-bound book lying on his nightstand. you pick it up and flip it open, curious. “what’s this?” you ask, holding it up.
heeseung turns from his desk, his eyes narrowing as he sees what you’re holding. “oh, that’s just a journal I keep for tracking my training sessions and stats. it’s nothing special.”
you nod, putting the book back in its place.
you notice a picture of heeseung and jake from when they were younger, and you’re reminded of what jake had told you earlier. now that you think of it, jake seems to really look up to heeseung, admiring him almost. you suppose it’s because they’ve known each other for a while. 
the rest of heeseung’s shelves have multiple baseball trophies and medals. something you’d expect from a baseball captain. 
“did you find the paper yet?” you ask him after a few minutes. 
heeseung hisses in frustration and turns back to his desk. “no, i can’t seem to find it.” 
“oh,” you nod, not sure of what else to say as you stand before him in his bedroom, his own party lively right downstairs. 
but maybe you can help me with something else.”
you raise an eyebrow, turning to face him. “like what?”
"well," he began, stepping closer to you. his cologne filled your senses, a mix of musk and citrus that perfectly matched his confident persona. "i've been meaning to tell you, i think you're really sexy."
your mouth dropped open, shocked by his forwardness. "me?” you squeaked, feeling yourself blush with bewilderment. 
"yeah," he continued, a mischievous glint in his eye. "the way you look as you report, taking notes, biting your lip as you concentrate on writing... it's fucking hot.”
you felt your body temperature rise as his words washed over you. no one had ever told you that the way you worked was attractive. you always thought your lip-biting was a nervous habit, but hearing heeseung describe it as sexy made your heart skip a beat.
"i'm so glad you're at my games now," he went on, his voice low and intimate. "it makes me want to do my best, knowing you're watching."
you were speechless, stunned by his admission. you never thought that you would catch the attention of lee heeseung. he was so popular and desired by everyone. there’s no way that he would ever want you. 
without warning, heeseung stepped even closer, his body brushing against yours. you could feel the hardness of his muscles, his strength, and his lean frame. he leaned down, his lips brushing your ear, and whispered, "i want you, right here, right now."
your breath caught in your throat as his desire washed over you.
"i want to feel you, taste you," he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck, sending shivers down your spine. "let me show you how sexy i find you."
you nodded mutely, unable to form words, your body responding to his touch, to his raw, passionate desire. heeseung gently pushed you back toward his bed, his hands roaming over your body, mapping every inch of you with his strong, skilled hands.
"you're so beautiful," he growled, his eyes dark with desire as he looked at you.
you blushed under his intense gaze, feeling yourself grow wet at the way he was looking at you.
with gentle but firm hands, he guided you backward until the back of your knees hit the bed, and you sat down, your legs slightly apart. heeseung didn't waste a moment, moving between your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours.
"you have no idea how many times I've thought about this," he confessed, his voice hoarse as he reached out to stroke your cheek. “since the first day i saw you out on the field, when you were interviewing me.” 
you let out a shaky breath, your body buzzing with anticipation. no one had ever made you feel so desired, so wanted. you let him start to undress you, removing your blouse and skirt. it reminded you of when you were in the locker room with sunghoon. how different that encounter is to this one. heeseung’s taking his time with you, wanting to pleasure you. meanwhile sunghoon could only care about getting himself off. 
but both of them are able to get you so wet. 
heeseung's eyes traveled down your body, taking in your heaving chest, your nipples tight with anticipation, and the dampness between your thighs.
“you're so wet for me already," he observed with a groan. 
before you could reply, Heeseung lowered his head, his tongue snaking out to taste you. you gasped as he lapped at your core, his tongue probing and teasing your folds. he was relentless. his mouth kept licking and sucking at your most sensitive spots. he was able to find them so quickly it surprised you. 
"oh fuck," you moaned, your hands tangling in his hair as he ate you out with enthusiasm. "heeseung, I—"
"you like that, huh?" he asked, looking up at you briefly before diving back in, his tongue insistent, seeking out your swollen clit. "you like my tongue right here?"
"yes!" you cried out, your hips bucking involuntarily as he teased you with his mouth. "oh god, heeseung, don't stop!"
heeseung chuckled, the vibrations sending pleasant tingles through your sensitive core. "i wanna make you cum so hard, baby.” the pet name sent shivers (good ones) down your body, your stomach tightening as he was so gentle with you. 
and true to his word, he kept going, his tongue not stopping as he laps and probes at your pulsing clit. he suckled and nibbled, his fingers joining in, probing and stroking your slick entrance. you moaned and writhed under his gaze, his hands holding your thighs open. 
"heeseung, please!" you begged, your hands clutching at the bedsheets. "i’m so close!"
"cum for me, baby," he urged, his voice hoarse with desire. "let me taste you."
and with that, he suckled your clit gently between his lips, flicking it with his tongue, and you shattered. your back arched off the bed as a cry escaped your lips, your orgasm washing over you in waves of intense pleasure. heeseung didn't stop, licking your sensitive clit through your orgasm, drawing out every last drop of pleasure.
as you slowly came back down to earth, heeseung crawled up your body, his lips seeking yours. you could taste yourself on his mouth, and it only served to heighten your desire for him. his lips are gentle on yours, but needy. you could tell how sweet heeseung was. his praise was so different from sunghoon’s degrading. 
but for some reason you couldn’t help but crave both.
“let me fuck you, y/n.” heeseung whispers out, his face still close to yours. his eyes are so intense as you look at them. 
you nodded eagerly, your body still humming with the aftershocks of your orgasm. heeseung reached into his nightstand, pulling out a condom, but you stopped him.
"no," you whispered, your hands covering his. "i want to feel you, all of you."
heeseung's eyes flashed with surprise, and then understanding. "are you sure?"
you nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. "i'm on the pill. i want to feel you."
a deep grin spread across heeseung's face, and he quickly shed the condom, his eyes never leaving yours. "fuck, you’re so hot.” he leans down again and kisses you with hunger. you don’t hesitate to kiss him back. 
with gentle hands, he positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of his hard cock brushing against your slick folds. you felt his girth, his length, and your breath quickened at the thought of taking all of him.
"you ready?" he asked, his voice gruff with need.
"yes," you breathed, your eyes fluttering closed as you prepared for his cock to stretch you out. 
in one smooth thrust, Heeseung filled you, stretching you deliciously as he slid deep within you. you moaned loudly, your body welcoming his, the sensation of being so full sending you into a frenzy.
heeseung stilled for a moment, giving you time to adjust, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "so fucking tight," he growled, his voice raw with desire. "fuck, you feel amazing."
you opened your eyes, looking into his, and nodded. "move," you pleaded, your nails digging into his arms. "please."
with a grunt, heeseung began to move, pulling out slowly until just the tip remained, and then slamming back into you. you cried out, your back arching off the bed as he set a brutal pace, his hips snapping as he plunged in and out of your tight heat.
"oh god, heeseung!" you moaned, your body on fire, the pleasure building again. "harder!"
heeseung complied, his hands gripping your thighs as he pounded into you mercilessly. the bed creaked with the force of his thrusts, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.
"that's it, take it all," he grunted, his eyes screwed shut in concentration. "you're so tight around me, baby."
"don't stop! please!" you begged, your nails digging into his shoulders. "fuck me, heeseung! make me cum again!"
heeseung's eyes flew open, locking with yours, and he increased his pace, his hips a blur as he drove into you with all his strength. "cum for me again," he demanded, his voice harsh. "let me feel that sweet pussy clenching around my dick."
your orgasm built like a tidal wave, the pressure in your core becoming unbearable. and then, with a loud cry, you shattered once more, your body tightening around his. heeseung groaned, his eyes rolling back as he felt your tight channel convulsing around him.
"that's it, baby, milk my cock," he encouraged, his thrusts becoming erratic as your spasming walls milked him. "fuck, I'm close!"
you whimpered as he pounded into you relentlessly, his balls slapping against your sensitive core. "cum inside of me, heeseung," your eyebrows furrowed together as you watched him continue to thrust in and out of you. “fill me up please, i want it so bad.” 
with a final moan, heeseung exploded within you, his hot cum flooding your pussy. he thrust a few more times, emptying himself completely, making a mess. 
heeseung leaves his face close to yours, making it easy for him to press his lips onto yours. they linger on yours for a while, soft and tender, as if he’s savoring the moment. when he finally pulls back, his eyes are warm, a stark contrast to the usual playful glint they hold. he brushes a few strands of hair away from your face, his touch gentle, almost reverent.
your mind is still hazy and your body is coming down from its high. you can almost barely feel his touch as he caresses your skin softly. 
you okay?” he whispers, his voice soft, filled with genuine concern.
you nod, feeling a strange flutter in your chest. “yeah… i’m okay.”
heeseung smiles at your breathlessness, thinking to himself how cute and worn out you look underneath him. your cheeks are flushed pink and there’s a thin line of sweat on your forehead. but he can’t help but think how beautiful you look.
heeseung seems to be fully present, fully focused on you. it makes your heart pound. he’s not rushing anything. 
he reaches over to grab a bottle of water, uncapping it and offering it to you first. “drink,” he says, his voice still gentle.
you take a sip, the cold water a sharp contrast to the warmth still lingering in your body. heeseung takes the bottle back, drinking after you, and then sets it aside. he pulls you close, kissing your forehead. 
then, he pulls away from you slowly, his lips brushing against yours one last time before he sits up. he moves with a certain tenderness, like he’s afraid to break whatever fragile thing has settled between you two. as he gets up, you watch him disappear into the bathroom, your heart still racing, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.
he returns moments later with a towel in hand. you’re surprised when he kneels beside you, the soft light from the lamp casting a warm glow over his face. without a word, he gently begins to wipe your skin, careful and considerate. the gesture is intimate, unexpectedly so, and it makes your heart pound even harder.
you lie there, watching him in stunned silence as he moves with a gentle focus, his eyes soft and his touch deliberate. it’s almost like he’s caring for you in a way you didn’t expect—a way you hadn’t even thought possible.
you had heard that the captain of the baseball team, the one before you right now, was a player, that he was charming and friendly and he would suck you in before you even noticed. you wondered if this was his usual routine. the routine that had gotten so many other girls to fall for him, for so many hearts to break. 
heeseung meets your eyes briefly, offering a small smile, one that feels genuine, almost affectionate. “there,” he says softly, once he’s done, folding the towel and setting it aside.
“thank you,” you whisper, not really sure what else to say.
he nods, brushing a thumb over your cheek before standing up again. “i’ll be right back,” he says, his voice still soft, as he heads back into the bathroom.
you’re left lying there, heart still racing, as you try to make sense of the situation. you hadn’t exactly planned to be here, naked in lee heeseung’s bed. but you aren’t disappointed. 
when you had started this investigation, you had only heard surface layer information about heeseung. but now you know that there is so much more to him. 
as you lay there, the warmth of heeseung still lingering on your skin, your mind suddenly remembers the investigation. the reason you were even here in the first place. you sit up abruptly, the realization hitting you like a ton of bricks. you glance around the room. this is like an evidence goldmine. 
you spot a sweater on the floor and quickly throw it on. you know you have to be quick before heeseung comes back. 
your eyes scan the room, searching for anything that might give you some sort of clue, something that could move your investigation forward. but as you rummage through his things, you mostly find random stuff—some useless, some funny. an old baseball glove, a few crumpled up notes from class, a pack of gum.
but then, tucked away in a drawer in the far back, something catches your eye. you reach for it and pull out a small photograph. it’s a picture of heeseung and sunghoon, arms wrapped around each other, both of them smiling brightly. your jaw drops as you stare at it, your mind racing. they were friends at one point—close friends, from the looks of it. this changes everything.
before you can fully process the revelation, you hear footsteps. you quickly tuck the picture behind your back just as heeseung reappears from the bathroom.
“what’re you doing?” he asks, eyebrow raised in curiosity.
you force a casual smile, trying to act normal. “nothing, just… finding my clothes,” you say, glancing around as if you’re looking for them.
heeseung points to a pile near the bed. “they’re right there. but you can keep wearing my sweater if you want.”
you glance down and realize you’re indeed wearing his sweater, the fabric warm and soft against your skin. you smile, a little sheepishly. “oh, thanks.”
its awkward suddenly, maybe just on your side since you have his picture behind your back without him knowing. but thankfully, heeseung is the way he is and breaks the silence. 
“want a drive home?”
“yes, please,” you smile real big at him. 
when you’re dressed again and heeseung is driving you home, the night is quiet, with only the soft hum of the car engine and the gentle music playing in the background. the city lights blur past the windows, and you find yourself staring out at them, lost in thought. under the sweater heeseung let you borrow, the photograph you took is safely tucked away, its edges pressing into your skin like a guilty reminder.
you can’t stop thinking about how kind heeseung has been to you tonight. the way he looked at you, touched you so gently, and cared for you in a way that felt almost too genuine. it makes your heart ache, knowing that you don’t deserve any of it—not with your ulterior motives, not with the secrets you’re hiding. the guilt twists in your stomach, a gnawing sensation that won’t go away.
as the car pulls up in front of your apartment, you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. you glance over at heeseung, who’s already looking at you with that soft smile that makes your chest tighten.
“thanks, heeseung,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “for tonight.”
"no problem, y/n.” he smiles at you so genuinely it hurts, “just remember, i gave you a ride home—so no bad reviews in your next report."
you laugh, thinking about how little he knows about your intentions and investigation. but you nod anyways, not being able to say anything else. 
before you head inside, you turn back to him, catching his gaze one last time. “goodnight, heeseung.”
he smiles, waiting until you’re safely inside your apartment. you wave at him through the window, and he waves back before driving off into the night.
but as you close the door behind you, the emptiness settles in. the nausea in your stomach twists tighter, making you feel sick in a way that’s more than just physical. you hate this feeling—the way the guilt eats away at you, the way it taints every good moment you shared with him tonight. it’s a heavy weight, one you’re not sure how to shake off.
you wish you didn’t find the picture, but you know you can’t. there’s no turning back now, no undoing what you’ve set in motion. all you can do is push forward, even if it means sacrificing something you didn’t realize you wanted until now.
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the journalism office was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that only late nights could bring. every other reporter had gone home, leaving you alone with just the glow of your desk lamp and the faint hum of your computer screen. the deadline for the week’s sports report was tonight. the empty word document on your screen taunting you as you struggled to figure out what to write.
your thoughts were a jumbled mess, torn between the story you knew could blow open your investigation and your gnawing conscience. the picture of heeseung and sunghoon from years ago sat on your desk beside you. it was a huge piece of evidence that could unravel everything. yet, the idea of exposing it felt wrong. 
you leaned back in your chair, running a hand through your hair in frustration. the memory of heeseung’s kindness gnawed at you, how he’d been so gentle, so sweet, kissing your forehead like he actually cared. and sunghoon, despite his aloof exterior, had ensured the other hockey players left you alone.
you sighed, staring at the blinking cursor on the screen, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. should you follow your morals and keep the picture hidden, protecting them from whatever fallout might come? or should you chase the story, the career-making headline that could propel you forward?
your heart ached with indecision. another thought of heeseung drifted through your mind—how he’d smiled at you, how he’d been so careful and tender, treating you like you mattered.
before you knew it, you were typing and the headline that was in bold across your screen read : 
Football Team Has Another Injury
you exhaled slowly, sending it to your professor before closing your laptop and turning off the lamp, plunging the office into darkness. you grabbed your bag and left the office.  as you walked out into the cool night air, all you could think about was your bed—ready for the quiet, for the thoughts to finally stop swirling about both of the captains.
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you’re sitting in the quiet corner of the library. it’s midday and the library is somewhat busy. though, you’re alone at your table. your mind is racing, thoughts swirling about how to move forward with your investigation.
you’ve made such a big deal out of this investigation, but now you want to stop because of a picture you found?
you’ve examined the picture more carefully whilst you’re alone. it’s not crumpled or scratched in anyway, which means heeseung cared about this picture, unlike everything else thrown away in the drawer you found it in. 
suddenly, someone sits down in the chair in front of you. 
your eyes widen when you realize who it is, which his dark black hair over his eyes and his pink lips pulled straight. 
“uh, hi?”
“hey,” sunghoon replies, his tone as cold and unreserved as ever. he leans back in the chair, crossing his arms over his chest like this is just another day.
you’re confused, to say the least. the last time you saw him things didn’t go as planned and he was exactly nice to you. so why’s he here, in front of you in a crowded library.
you close your laptop slightly, your curiosity piqued. 
“what are you doing here?” you ask, your voice coming out as reserved and cautious. 
“can’t i sit here?” sunghoon asks, his eyebrow quirking. 
you cross your own arms across your chest, your defensive side coming out. you didn’t care how hot or popular the man was in front of you; he was an asshole. 
““well, after last time, i didn’t think you’d want to,”
“what?” sunghoon’s brows furrow, his expression hardening.
you roll your eyes, the frustration from your last encounter bubbling up. “you were so awful to me last time. why would you want to sit here like nothing happened?”
sunghoon’s face changes. his shoulders slump slightly as he puts his head in his hands, not saying anything. the shift in his demeanor catches you off guard, and you’re left staring at him, waiting for him to speak. but the silence stretches, growing more awkward by the second. you don’t understand him. 
finally, you groan, tired of the tension and the weird atmosphere. you start to pack up your things, ready to escape whatever this is. but before you can finish, sunghoon reaches out and gently grabs your arm, stopping you. you look up at him, and his usual cold, detached expression is replaced with something you’ve never seen from him before—desperation.
“what is it?” you ask, your voice softening despite your earlier frustration.
sunghoon takes a deep breath, his hand dropping to his lap. “i’ve been under a lot of stress. with school, with the team... and i know it’s no excuse to be mean to you. i’m sorry.”
his words hang in the air between you, sincere and a little vulnerable. you weren’t expecting this at all, and it makes your heart soften toward him. you nod slowly, understanding that everyone has their breaking points.
“do you want to talk about it?” you ask gently, offering him a way to unload some of the weight he’s carrying.
he shakes his head, a small, almost sad smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “no, it’s fine. i just... i really am sorry. you don’t deserve to be treated like that.”
the sincerity in his voice and the look in his eyes make something inside you shift. the frustration and resentment you felt start to melt away. 
“it’s okay,” you say quietly, offering him a small smile. “i understand how stressful it can be in your position.” 
sunghoon nods, looking relieved, and for the first time, the tension between you eases. the silence that follows isn’t awkward anymore; it’s almost comforting, like a weight has been lifted.
“thanks,” he mutters, almost too softly for you to hear.
it’s silent between you in the library. both of you processing the shared moment. you think you’re starting to see park sunghoon in a different light. one that you didn’t think he had. 
“so,” you say, making your tone deliberately brighter, “you must be having a really tough week if you’re sitting in the library with me and not finding a girl to bring home tonight after the game.” 
sunghoon looks up at you, his eyes widening slightly before he laughs—a genuine, warm sound that surprises you. it’s the first time you’ve heard him laugh, and it catches you off guard how much you like it. it’s not the cold, sarcastic laugh you’ve heard before. 
“is that what you think of me?” he asks, still chuckling, his mood noticeably lighter.
“oh, come on,” you tease, grinning. “you have a bit of a reputation, you know.”
sunghoon shakes his head, still smiling. “maybe i should work on changing that, then.”
“might not be a bad idea since just, everyone on campus knows about it,” you reply, playfully nudging his foot under the table.
sunghoon shrugs, “i don’t care what everyone else thinks of me,” his voice softer, “i only care what you think about me.”
you tilt your head to the side at his answer. his soft smile lingers on his face and with the way he’s looking at you now, you think that you’re seeing a side of park sunghoon that not everyone gets to see. you aren’t sure how to respond to him. you aren’t sure what he wants from you. 
“anyways,” sunghoon shakes his head at your lack of answer, “how about i walk you to class?” 
you nod with a smile, still partially processing his words, “sure!” 
you start to gather your things, ready to leave the library with him. you sling your bag over your shoulder, something slips out and lands on the floor by sunghoon’s feet. sunghoon’s gaze drops to the ground, and his expression freezes when he sees what it is.
the picture of him and heeseung—the one you stole from heeseung’s room—stares up at both of you from the floor.
his previously soft, almost content expression hardens in an instant. his eyes darken with a mix of anger and confusion. he bends down, snatching the picture off the ground before you can react.
“where did you get this?” his voice is low, but there’s an edge to it that makes your stomach twist.
you swallow, trying to keep your voice steady as you admit, “uh, heeseung’s bedroom…”
sunghoon’s expression shifts from confusion to something sharper, more painful. his eyes narrow into slits, “you fucked heeseung?”
the volume of his voice rises with each word, drawing the attention of the students around you. the quiet library becomes suddenly too loud with the whispers and curious stares directed your way. you feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you snatch the picture out of his hand, your frustration boiling over. why would he automatically assume that you had sex with heeseung anyways? 
“why do you care who i get intimate with?” you shoot back, your own voice louder than you intended. “why do you only care what i think of you?”
sunghoon’s jaw clenches, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “i don’t!” he snaps, but the way his voice wavers makes you doubt him.
“then what is it?”
for a moment, he looks like he’s about to say something—something important, something real—but then he shakes his head, the anger in his eyes cooling to something else.
“nothing, just nothing, y/n.” his voice is quieter now, more defeated. “have fun with your investigation.”
he turns on his heel and storms out of the library, leaving you standing there, alone with the picture clutched in your hand and the weight of everyone’s eyes on you.
your heart races, but all you can think about is the look on sunghoon’s face right before he left—how hurt he looked, how quickly his mood changed the moment he saw the picture. 
part of you wants to chase after him, to demand answers, to figure out why he cares so much, but the other part of you just wants to get out of there, away from all the curious stares.
you take a deep breath, shoving the picture back into your bag before grabbing your things and hurrying out of the library. your mind is full of sunghoon’s sweet laugh and heeseung’s charming smile.
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you toss and turn all night, your mind racing with thoughts of sunghoon and heeseung. no matter how hard you try, you can’t shake the image of sunghoon’s hurt and angry face from your mind. it’s a look you never thought you would see on his usual cool and collected face. it clings to you, gnawing at your conscience. you wonder if you liked it more when sunghoon didn’t show any feelings towards you at all and remained as cold and mysterious as ever. 
you start thinking about heeseung, too—how sweet he was, how he took care of you after, how you felt safe in his arms. but then your thoughts twist, imagining the look on his face if he ever found out you stole that picture from his room. how betrayed he’d feel, how that charming smile of his would disappear.
you sigh, sitting up in bed as the weight of your actions presses down on your chest. the more you think about it, the more you realize you can’t just let this go. you have to do something, anything, to make this right.
so you swing your legs over the side of the bed and grab the picture from your bag. 
you know the one place lee heeseung would be at this early in the morning; the baseball diamond. 
you slip on a hoodie and some sneakers, not bothering to change out of your pajamas and head out into the cool, early morning. the air is crisp, a sharp contrast to the warmth of your bed. 
when you finally reach the baseball diamond, you see heeseung’s figure against the light sky. you hesitate for a moment before stepping closer, clutching the picture in your hand. you start to rethink your actions and the words you practiced to say to him over and over again.
“y/n?” his voice suddenly calls out to you from across the field.
you glance up at him, and force a smile on your face and start to approach him. “hey,”
“hi,” he gleams at you, happy as ever. “what’re you doing here? it’s so early.” 
you shrug and look down at your shoes, slightly soaked from the morning dew. 
“y/n?” heeseung questions you, his hand reaching down to lift your chin back up so you’re looking at him. his face is contorted into concern. “what’s wrong?” 
you sigh and know that lee heeseung can read you like a book. so you take the picture from behind your back and give it to him without a word. 
you can tell by his face that he’s confused. the way he gently takes the picture and looks at it. 
“how… did you get this?” 
you bite your lip at the question you had hoped he wouldn’t have asked, but reluctantly tell him the truth. 
“from your room, when you were in the bathroom.” 
heeseung only nods, his eyes still stuck on the picture before him. so you continue with your apology. 
“i’m so sorry heeseung, i know it was wrong of me. i felt guilty as soon as i took it. i just– i get so caught up in reporting sometimes that i don’t think of the people that i’m reporting ons feelings. so, i’m sorry.” 
heeseung smiles again, and it surprises you, really. you thought he would react similar to how sunghoon reacted when he saw the picture. but then again, you know how different sunghoon and heeseung are. polar opposites. 
“it’s alright y/n.” heeseung nods, and you let out a sigh. “thanks for telling me the truth, i appreciate it.” 
“no, of course. it was wrong of me to take it without your permission.” 
“it’s okay, i guess i didn’t realize how important this investigation was to you.” 
suddenly there’s a scoff from behind you, causing both you and heeseung to glance back in surprise. 
there, stands park sunghoon. his face is held in an annoyed glare as he looks at the small distance that you and heeseung are standing at. 
“i guess you didn’t realize how important the investigation was to y/n.” sunghoon chuckles, “but i did. i knew it when she sucked me off to get information.” 
your jaw drops at sunghoon’s admission. you can’t believe he would say this in front of heeseung. 
you hesitantly turn to look at heeseung, who’s poor face is contorted into confusion as he glances between you and sunghoon, his rival. 
“is that true, y/n?” heeseung asks you, his voice softer and less cruel sounding than sunghoon’s. 
you can barely look at him, but you nod, silently. you feel ashamed for playing both of them, wanting to keep it a secret from one another that you had hooked up with both of them. 
you feel like you can’t be angry at anyone but yourself. 
heeseung brushes a hand through his hair, stressed. you think he’s going to cuss you out, but instead, he turns and looks at sunghoon. 
“why’re you here anyways, sunghoon? you never step foot onto the field.” heeseung’s voice is angrier now. 
sunghoon steps forward, his shoes brushing against the aggregate. “i came to let you know that even if you’re hooking up with y/n– that,” sunghoon hesitates as he looks at you,”that, i like her too, so.” 
your eyes widen in shock at sunghoon’s words. you never would have thought that park sunghoon would have liked you. you start to question all of his previous intentions with you. you had thought he hated you, but really, he had liked you? 
heeseung on the other hand groans, his body is unable to stay still as he steps around in disbelief. he angrily turns to sunghoon, “god this is so like you, sunghoon!” 
“what the fuck does that mean?” sunghoon barks back. 
“you always want what you can’t have sunghoon. you see something good and suddenly you want it too.” 
sunghoon’s jaw clenches and he steps forward too so him and heeseung are only a few inches apart. “are you forgetting that y/n hooked up with me first? god, this is so like you, hee.” 
you’re standing right in the middle of them, scared for both of them. upset at yourself for making them this angry at each other. 
heeseung chuckles, “yeah? and what am i like then?”
“you always have to make everything about you! lee heeseung, the golden boy, has to be the centre of attention all the time!” 
heeseung seems like he can’t believe what he’s hearing, “what the fuck are you talking about?” 
“you’re making this about you when it has nothing to do with you! this only involves me and y/n.” 
heeseung turns to you, his expression softening slightly as he meets your eyes. “y/n, do you really want to get caught up in this? in whatever the hell sunghoon is trying to pull?”
sunghoon steps forward, his voice lowering but still laced with tension. “y/n, i know i haven’t been the best to you, but i’m being honest now. i like you, and i didn’t know how to deal with my feelings for you before.” 
you swallow hard, feeling the weight of their gazes on you. this is too much, too fast. you’re not even sure how you feel about sunghoon’s confession, or how this affects whatever’s going on with heeseung.
“i… i don’t know what to say,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.
sunghoon looks at you with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. “just tell me if you feel anything for me, y/n. because if you do, then maybe we can figure this out.”
heeseung crosses his arms, his expression guarded as he waits for your response. “and what about me, y/n? where do i fit into this?”
you feel like you’re being torn in two different directions. the two boys in front of you are completely different, but you feel an attraction to both of them whether you like it or not. you don’t know which direction would be best for you and it wouldn’t hurt the other. 
“i… i need time to think,” you finally say, your voice trembling. “this is all just… a lot.”
sunghoon’s shoulders slump slightly, but he nods, understanding. “okay. take your time, y/n. but just know that i’m serious about this.”
heeseung looks at you for a long moment before sighing. “yeah, take your time. we’ll figure this out.”
the silence that follows is thick with unspoken emotions, and you feel the need to get away, to clear your head. you turn and start to walk away, leaving the two of them on the baseball diamond alone. 
as you walk, you can’t help but feel the weight of their confessions pressing down on you.
god, you hated sports.
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soon, heeseung starts to offer you drives home after school. his voice is always soft and considerate. it makes your heart warm. the car rides are always sweet and genuine and you find yourself reveling in how kind lee heeseung is.
he never rushes you out of the car when he pulls up to your place; instead, he walks you to your door, making sure you get inside safely. before you step inside, he leans in and kisses your cheek, his lips brushing against your skin in a way that sends a gentle warmth through you. it’s a sweet, lingering moment, and you can’t help but smile as you say goodnight.
when you walk into school in an early morning, goosebumps leveled on your skin from the fall breeze, you run into sunghoon who has his skates slung over his shoulder as he heads to the hockey rink. 
without a word, he slips off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. it’s a bit oversized on you, the warmth of it immediately comforting against the chill that has consumed your body. you instantly recognize his jacket as his hockey one– with his number embroidered on the back. he skims past you once he’s happy with the way it sits on your shoulder and leaves you in the hall. 
as you walk down the hall, sunghoon’s jacket still wrapped around you, you feel eyes on you, whispers following in your wake. even jake catches your eye from across the hall, his expression concerned when he realizes whose jacket you’re wearing. you find yourself holding onto the sleeves of his jacket, keeping the warmth and sunghoon’s cologne tight against your skin. 
heeseung always seems to know when you’re struggling with homework. he shows up when you least expect it and slides into the seat beside you, ready to help you with whatever you’re struggling with. he places his neatly organized notes on the table in front of you. 
“here, these might help.” he says, his tone casual, but there’s that familiar warmth in his eyes that makes your chest tighten. he doesn’t mind taking the next hour walking you through the material, even though he’s late for his next class. 
when you forgot your money on your kitchen table for lunch, you sit alone in the cafeteria, trying to distract yourself from the hunger rumbling in your stomach as you focus on your homework. a sandwich suddenly appears beside your book. you glance up and see sunghoon, a small smile playing on his lips. 
“you need to eat,” he says, his voice soft but firm. it’s a simple gesture, but it means the world to you in that moment, you really were so hungry. 
when you take a bite, he smiles and heads back over to the table he was previously sitting at with his friends, he doesn’t stop glancing over at you to make sure you’ve eaten the whole thing until you’re throwing the empty wrapper into the trash can. 
both heeseung and sunghoon are trying to prove themselves to you. competing for your attention. each of their gestures gets a little sweeter than the last. you’re caught between them and you’re unsure of what you should do. 
when you’re sitting in the journalism office, staring at your computer screen, the blinking cursor mocking you as you try to piece together your next report. your thoughts are a jumbled mess. the office is quiet, which should be good for you to think, but it’s not for your loud mind that won’t stop racing about one million things. 
suddenly, there’s a noise at the door, followed by grunting and muffled yelling. you glance up, confused, just in time to see the door burst open and both sunghoon and heeseung stumble into the office, each carrying two drinks. they’re both shoving at each other, jostling for space as they try to make it inside.
“stop! what’re you doing? they’re gonna spill!” you shout, standing up from your desk, your heart racing as you watch them struggle.
they both freeze when they see you, eyes wide like two kids caught in the act. for a moment, the room is silent, and then they both start talking at once.
“i was just bringing you a drink because i know how hard you work,” heeseung says, holding up his drink like it’s a peace offering.
“no, i was bringing you a drink,” sunghoon interrupts, his tone competitive.
heeseung scoffs, “please, she likes peach, not strawberry.” he glances towards sunghoon’s drink. 
“what? you obviously don’t know her, she loves strawberry.” 
they start bickering, each one trying to convince each other that their drink is the one you’d prefer. you feel your head start to pound, their voices overlapping and filling the small office space with tension.
“enough!” you finally shout, cutting them off mid-argument. they both go quiet, staring at you with wide eyes. you take a deep breath, trying to calm the frustration bubbling up inside you.
“i appreciate the gestures, i really do,” you start, your voice softer now, but firm. “but i need time to sort out my feelings, and i can’t do that if you’re both around me all the time. it’s… it’s too much.”
they both look at you, guilt flickering across their faces. they exchange a glance, then nod, understanding in their eyes. “sorry,” they both mumble at the same time, looking down at the drinks in their hands.
without another word, they each set a drink on your desk, their earlier competition forgotten. heeseung gives you a small, apologetic smile, while sunghoon just nods, his expression more subdued. they turn and leave the office, the door clicking shut behind them.
you let out a long sigh, the tension slowly draining from your shoulders as the silence of the office envelops you once more. you look at the drinks on your desk, a bittersweet feeling settling in your chest.
you sit back down at your desk, staring at the unfinished report on your screen. your mind is a swirling mess of thoughts, caught between sunghoon, heeseung, and the weight of your investigation. you press your fingers to your temples, trying to push the stress away, but it lingers, heavy and suffocating.
what are you going to do?
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it’s been a week since you’ve seen heeseung or sunghoon. the silence between you and them has been unnerving, like an itch you can’t scratch. your mind keeps replaying your last encounters, the tension, the unspoken words, the way things were left hanging in the air. you’ve thrown yourself into your work, trying to distract yourself, but even that hasn’t been going well.
your boss has noticed your distracted state. she’s been getting increasingly frustrated with your recent reports, her critiques growing harsher each day. she’s told you more than once to at least act like you’re interested in sports when you’re writing. but your heart isn’t in it, and she can tell. tonight, you’re staying late at the journalism office again, trying to push through the mental block that’s been holding you back.
you’re staring at your screen, your fingers hovering over the keyboard, when you hear footsteps approaching. you glance up to see blair walking over, her bag thrown over her shoulder, clearly ready to leave for the night.
“hey, this came for you,” she says, holding out an envelope.
you blink, caught off guard. “what is it?” you ask, reaching out to take it.
blair shrugs, a casual smile on her lips. “i don’t know. but don’t stay too late, okay? take care of yourself.”
you nod, offering her a small smile. “of course. have a good night.”
“you too,” she says before heading out the door, leaving you alone in the dimly lit office.
you look down at the envelope in your hands, your name scrawled on the front in neat handwriting. there’s no return address, no indication of who it’s from. curiosity piqued, you tear it open and pull out the folded sheet of paper inside.
as you unfold it, your eyes widen at the title printed at the top: the truth behind the rivalry of the baseball and hockey teams.
you quickly skim the note, your breath catching in your throat as you realize what you’re holding. the note is brief, but the implications are massive. and they’ve chosen to share it with you. at the bottom, the note is signed simply: anonymous.
you sit back in your chair, the paper trembling slightly in your hands. the weight of the situation hits you all at once. your mind races, torn between the thrill of a potential breakthrough in your investigation and the fear of what this could mean for you—and for sunghoon and heeseung.
you reach towards your keyboard, typing out the headline you’ve thought about since the beginning.
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your boss let you go home early today, she’s extremely happy with your work finally. she said it was the best report they’ve had all year. the school was buzzing, everyone congratulating you on the story. your article has sold more copies than ever. 
but still, you feel a wave of guilt continuously wash through you. 
you barely had time to settle into the quiet of your apartment when a knock at the door pulled you out of your thoughts. your heart jumped in your chest, a sinking feeling settling in your stomach as you opened the door.
heeseung and sunghoon stood there, both looking pissed. 
“uh, come in?” you stammer, stepping aside to let them in. they walk in, tension radiating off them.
heeseung is the first to speak, his tone sharp. “you told y/n what happened?”
sunghoon’s jaw drops, his eyes wide in disbelief. “no, i didn’t. you told her what happened, didn’t you?”
“no i didn’t,” heeseung snaps back, his voice rising. “you’re lying like usual.”
the argument escalates quickly, their voices overlapping in heated accusations. you can feel the situation spiraling out of control, and you step in, raising your hands.
“guys, guys,” you say, trying to cut through the chaos. “neither of you told me, alright.”
they both stop, turning to you with matching expressions of confusion. heeseung’s eyes narrow slightly as he processes your words. “then who told you?” he asks.
you shrug, feeling a bit uneasy under their intense gazes. “i got an anonymous tip.”
“a what?” sunghoon repeats, his voice laced with suspicion.
“i got a letter,” you explain, pulling the envelope out of your bag and holding it up. “signed by anonymous.”
heeseung’s expression darkens. “let me see this letter,” he demands, holding out his hand.
you hand it over, watching as they both lean in to read it together. the room is thick with tension, their silence as they read almost unbearable.
when they finish, you speak up, your voice cutting through the heavy silence. “is it true? sunghoon, you slept with heeseung’s girlfriend in high school?”
sunghoon’s mouth opens in a protest, his voice ringing out, “no,” at the exact moment that heeseung says, “yes.”
the word hangs in the air between them, their conflicting answers sparking another round of glares and tension. they turn on each other again, the hostility simmering just below the surface, ready to erupt.
“are you seriously going to lie about this, sunghoon?” heeseung says, his tone icy.
sunghoon glares back, his voice filled with frustration. “i’m not lying. it wasn’t like that, and you know it.”
“then what was it like?” heeseung fires back, his anger barely contained.
“maia told me you were on a break!” sunghoon shouts with anger. 
“well we weren’t!” 
“well how’s that my fault?” 
you watch them, feeling the situation spiraling again. their voices are rising, the tension thickening with each passing second.
you step between them, your hands up as if that could physically separate their anger. “enough, both of you,” you say firmly. “this isn’t getting us anywhere.”
they stop, their chests heaving with the effort of holding back their tempers. the room falls into a tense silence as they both look at you. 
“can you guys speak calmly, and listen to the other?” you ask them seriously, tired of them yelling all the time. 
heeseung is the first to speak again, “i don’t know why maia would tell you we were on a break, but it still doesn’t fix the fact that you were my best friend and slept with my girlfriend.”
sunghoon’s face twists in frustration, his voice pleading as he responds, “i know, i know, but i wouldn’t have done it if she wasn’t so upset. she told me you were on a break! she said she needed someone, and then all of a sudden, it just… happened. and we were done, and she left!”
heeseung covers his eyes with his hands, the weight of the memory clearly bearing down on him. “that’s not what maia told me, hoon.”
sunghoon’s brows knit together, his tone desperate. “what did she say?”
heeseung’s anger flares, his voice rising as he pulls his hands away to glare at sunghoon. “i don’t know, just that you told her to come over, and then it happened.”
sunghoon scoffs, shaking his head. “i told her to come over because she called me crying, saying how she messed things up with you and her! i didn’t tell her to come over so i could hook up with her!”
the room falls into a heavy silence as the words sink in. heeseung looks like he’s processing everything, trying to fit together the pieces of a puzzle that’s been broken for years. finally, he sinks down onto your couch, the weight of the situation pulling him down.
sunghoon hesitates for a moment before sitting down next to him. his voice is softer now, laced with a deep regret. “hee, you were my best friend. i would never do that to you. she told me you were on a break, and she was upset! i’m sorry that it happened, i really am. if i could go back and change what i did, i would, i really would.”
heeseung nods slowly, his anger ebbing away as he looks over at sunghoon. “alright, i’m sorry for not hearing you out earlier.”
sunghoon lets out a chuckle, the sound laced with a bittersweet edge. “yeah, you’re like, 4 years too late.”
heeseung laughs, the sound breaking through the tension like a breath of fresh air. it’s a small moment of reconciliation for the two of them.
you clear your throat, drawing their attention back to you. “well, now that that’s sorted out… i’m sorry for posting the report, i am.”
heeseung waves it off, a small smile on his lips. “no, it’s fine. you got us to speak instead of fight for once.”
sunghoon nods in agreement. “yeah, but who was the anonymous tipster?”
the three of you exchange glances, all shrugging as the question hangs in the air. none of you have a clue who it could be.
sunghoon clears his throat, the serious expression on his face returning as he looks at you. “i just… i hope that what you found out in the report doesn’t change your feelings for me. i want you to know that i never meant to hurt heeseung, and i truly thought they were on a break.”
you meet his gaze, searching for any hint of dishonesty. but all you see is a mix of vulnerability and hope in his eyes. after a moment, you nod slowly. “it doesn’t change my feelings, sunghoon. if you’re telling the truth, and you really thought they were on a break… then i believe you.”
a small, relieved smile tugs at the corner of his lips, and you can feel the tension between the three of you start to ease.
but then heeseung, still seated on the other end of the couch, shifts slightly, drawing your attention back to him. “so… have you made up your mind about who you’re going to choose?”
your breath catches in your throat as you look between the two of them. the question you’ve been avoiding is suddenly right in front of you, and you realize that you’ve been dreading this moment. your heart races as you shake your head, a quiet “no” escaping your lips.
sunghoon leans back, a contemplative look on his face. “well, then,” he starts, his voice carrying a hint of playfulness that makes you raise an eyebrow. “how about we help you with your decision?” 
heeseung glances at him, “what do you mean?” 
sunghoon grins, and you can’t help but feel a little nervous at the mischievous glint in his eyes. “i think we should both get a chance to prove to her that we are the right one for her,” he explains. “so, whoever makes y/n feel the best wins her.”
“how so?” you ask, trying to process what he’s saying.
“easy,” sunghoon shrugs, “we both get to fuck you.” 
heeseung seems to mull it over for a second, before a smirk spreads across his face, “i’m game if y/n is.” 
you blink, your mind racing as you try to process what’s happening. of course they are turning it into a competition, that’s all they know. 
the idea seems ridiculous, but at the same time, it intrigues you. 
before you can fully think it through, you hear yourself saying, “okay.”
the boys quickly shift on the couch, making room for you to sit between them. you move to sit down, your heart pounding in your chest as the reality of what you’ve just agreed to starts to sink in.
as you settle into the space between them, you can feel the tension building again, but this time it’s charged with a different kind of energy. sunghoon is on one side of you, his hand resting lightly on your knee, while heeseung is on the other, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch.
“are you sure, y/n?” heeseung asks you, as sweet as always. 
you bite your lip, “i am, but are you sure you both want to do this? i don’t want things to get weird between us all.” 
“don’t worry about y/n, me and hee both know that whatever you decide will be fair. we both just want to make you feel really good.” sunghoon speaks into your ear, his body warm against your side. 
you can't help but feel a surge of desire at their words. seeing the two of them so determined and eager to bring you pleasure has your body buzzing with excitement. "okay," you agree, your voice a little hoarse. "let's do this."
your breath quickening as Heeseung presses a soft kiss to your neck, his lips gentle and sensual. sunghoon's hands begin to roam over your body, sliding up your thighs and under your shirt, his touch electric. heeseung's hands join his, exploring your body with a mix of tenderness and hunger. their touches are different yet equally captivating—sunghoon's bold and demanding, heeseung's gentle and seeking.
you moan softly as their fingers trace patterns on your skin, igniting fires everywhere they touch. they take their time, exploring every inch of your body, drawing out your pleasure until you're a quivering mess between them. "you like that, don't you, baby?" sunghoon whispers, his lips brushing your ear. "you like being touched by both of us."
"yes," you breathe, your voice husky with need. "feels so good."
heeseung chuckles, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. "and we're just getting started, baby."
they continue their assault on your senses, mouths and hands working in sync to tease you. their fingers tangle in your hair, grasp your hips, and stroke your thighs. you feel yourself falling deeper under their spell, your body surrendering to their expert touches.
"let's go to your bedroom," heeseung suggests, his voice thick with desire.
you nod wordlessly, unable to speak as sunghoon plants sloppy, harsh kisses along your jawline. they help you up from the couch, their strong arms steadying you as your legs feel like jelly.
in your bedroom, the pace intensifies. heeseung and sunghoon waste no time in stripping you of your clothes, their eyes dark with desire as they take in your naked body.
"so beautiful," heeseung whispers, tracing a finger down your arm, sending goosebumps across your skin.
sunghoon's eyes shine with a mischievous glint. "you’re so sexy, can’t wait to hear you begging for more.” 
you swallow, a thrill running through you at their bold words. they guide you to the bed, their hands never leaving your body, always exploring, touching, teasing.
sunghoon positions himself between your legs, his gaze locking with yours as he begins to kiss and nip at your inner thighs. heeseung moves to your side, his fingers tangling with yours as he brings your hand to his lips for a soft kiss. "we're going to take such good care of you," he murmurs, his breath washing over your sensitive skin.
you feel sunghoon's breath fan over your core, his tongue flicking out to taste you. a gasp escapes your lips as he laps at your folds, his tongue confident and skilled. heeseung's fingers thread through yours as you experience wave after wave of pleasure, his thumb stroking your palm in time with sunghoon's tongue.
"he's good, isn't he?" heeseung whispers, his voice full of satisfaction as he watches your face contort with pleasure. "but I plan on being even better."
sunghoon chuckles against your sensitive flesh, sending vibrations through your body. he looks up at you, his eyes full of promise, before dipping his head to continue sucking on your clit. 
the feeling of sunghoon's tongue on your clit, coupled with heeseung's gentle caresses, is overwhelming. you feel yourself spiraling toward the edge, your body tightening like a coil. "hh god," you breathe, your hips bucking involuntarily. you weren’t use to having so much attention on you. it sent you to the edge so quickly. 
heeseung's fingers tighten around yours as sunghoon sucks your clit into his mouth, his tongue swirling relentlessly. "come for us, baby," he urges, his voice husky. "let us know how good we make you feel."
you cry out, your body arching off the bed as you climax, waves of pleasure rippling through you. sunghoon rides out your orgasm, his tongue relentless until you're left boneless and breathless.
as you come back down to earth, heeseung's lips find yours, kissing you deeply as his hand strokes your cheek. 
"your turn.” sunghoon signals to heeseung, his voice laced with challenge. 
heeseung shoots him a determined look as he moves over your body, his hands exploring your skin. his eyes are full of heat as he looks down at you. 
sunghoon slips away, leaving you on the bed with heeseung, who takes his time exploring your body with his hands and mouth. he’s so caring and gentle, different to how dominant and rough sunghoon is. 
heeseung strokes your clit until your a writhing mess beneath him, your body crying out for more. “please”, you beg, “i need your cock.” 
heeseung smiles, “i know, baby, i know.” 
he aligns himself with your entrance, teasing you with slow, shallow thrusts that have you crying out with each movement. "tell me how good it feels," he demands, his voice thick with desire.
"feels so good," you whimper, your fingers digging into his back. "please, more."
sunghoon, who has been watching from the sidelines, moves closer, his lips brushing your ear. "you like his cock inside you, don't you?" he murmurs, his fingers trailing down your body to toy with your nipples. "you like being stretched around his thick cock."
Your words are incoherent as heeseung begins to pound into you, his hips snapping against yours as he finds a relentless rhythm. sunghoon’s hands and mouth continue to touch you and whisper dirty nothings into your ear. 
“that’s it, take his cock like the slut i know you are,” sunghoon urges, his voice in your ear driving you closer to the edge, “take it all.” 
you cry out as heeseung’s thrusts become harder, deeper, your body meeting him with each thrust. the pleasure builds within you again, an ache that begs to be satisfied.
sunghoon’s lips find yours, kissing you deeply as his hand slips between your bodies to rub your clit in time with heeseung’s thrusts.  "come for us again, slut" he commands, his voice firm. "let go."
“god, please cum, baby– wanna feel your walls tighten like a good girl.” heeseung moans out to you. his eyes are set on where his cock is meeting your pussy. 
your hands grip tighter around heeseung’s arm as you shatter around his cock, crying out his name as your body convulses with pleasure. sunghoon doesn’t stop his fingers from working on your clit, extending your orgasm until you’re sobbing and shaking and heeseung is cumming inside of you. he fills you to the brim with his warm cum, the feeling makes you whine out. 
as your orgasm subsides, heeseung slows his movements, his breath ragged as he pulls out of you. sunghoon moves in, his eyes dark with desire as he positions himself at your entrance.
"my turn," he growls, his voice thick with need.
you hardly have time to register what's happening before sunghoon fills you with one swift thrust, making you cry out at the sudden fullness. he buries himself to the hilt, his eyes closing briefly as a shudder of pleasure racks his body.
"fuck, you feel so good," he groans, his hips snapping as he begins to move within you. "so tight and wet."
heeseung moves to your side, his hands caressing your body as he watches sunghoon fuck you. "she does, doesn't she?" he agrees, his voice satisfied. “such a good girl for us.” 
before you can process his words, heeseung leans in, his lips capturing yours in a hungry kiss. his tongue tangles with yours as sunghoon continues his relentless pace, your bodies moving in sync.
you're overwhelmed by sensations, sunghoon's cock driving you wild, heeseung's lips demanding and insistent. their touches are everywhere, driving you closer and closer to the edge. "oh god," you moan, your body tingling with overstimulating pleasure. "i—"
"come for me," sunghoon commands, his voice a deep rumble. "i want to feel you fall apart around my cock."
his words are your undoing, your body surrendering to a powerful orgasm that has you crying out their names. sunghoon quickens his pace, chasing his own release as heeseung continues to kiss and touch you, driving you wild.
"so beautiful," heeseung murmurs, his lips brushing your ear.
sunghoon grunts, his body tensing as he finds his release, filling you with his warmth. he buries his face in your neck, his breath coming in sharp pants as he rides out his orgasm.
you feel spent and satisfied, your body still buzzing with the aftermath of your intense releases. your pussy is filled with both heeseung and sunghoon’s cum. your breath was ragged, your skin glistening with a sheen of sweat, and your heart was pounding in your chest. 
heeseung and sunghoon share a smirk that you don’t catch, their eyes still filled with desire as sunghoon pulls out of you. they both knew that they weren’t done with you yet. 
“why don’t we clean you up a bit?” heeseung suggests to you. 
sunghoon nodded in agreement, “yeah, we don’t want to waste a single drop of your juices, princess.”
you could only watch them as they spread your legs again, enough for both of them to fit in between. they wasted no time then, their eyes locking on your glistening, leaking pussy. they leaned in together, their tongues darting out to taste the mixture of your juices and their cum.
you gasped as their tongues flicked against your sensitive clit, sending shocks of pleasure throughout your body. they lapped at your pussy greedily, tasting each other's cum mixed with your essence. their tongues mixed together, swirling and twirling as they devoured you. 
"mmm, you taste so fucking good,"sunghoon moaned, his voice hoarse with desire. he nipped at your clit gently, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your veins.
heeseung hummed in agreement, his tongue delving deep into your hole, probing and exploring as he savored the flavor of your arousal. "so sweet.” he hummed. 
you whimpered as they licked your pussy. their tongues working in unison to bring you pleasure. their hands caressed your thighs, holding your legs open. 
"oh fuck, that's so good," you panted, your hands gripping the sheets tightly. “both of you eating me out.” 
heeseung chuckled, the vibrations of his laughter sending delightful sensations through your core.
sunghoon looked up at you, his eyes smoldering with desire. "tell us what you want, princess, and we’ll do it.”
you bit your lip, feeling bolder than you ever had before. "i want both of your tongues on my clit," you whispered, your voice thick with need. "please, make me cum all over your faces."
a growl escaped from heeseung's throat as he pulled sunghoon closer. "as you wish, baby."
together, they focused their attention on your clit, their tongues swirling and flicking in tandem. heeseung sucked your pearl into his mouth, his tongue working furiously while sunghoon lapped at your juices, coating your pussy with his saliva.
the sensation was indescribable. having two mouths, two tongues circling and sucking your pussy. you moaned loudly, your back arching off the bed as they pushed you closer and closer to the edge.
"that's it, baby, cum for us," heeseung urged, his hands squeezing your thighs. 
sunghoon added his fingers to the mix, thrusting them into your wetness as he curled them to hit that magical spot inside you. "cum for us, y/n.”
you shouted as the orgasm hit you. your body convulsed, your juices flowing freely as you rode out the intense waves of pleasure. heeseung and sunghoon continued to lick and suck, milking every last drop of your cum, savoring the taste of your release.
gradually, the intensity of your orgasm subsided, leaving you boneless and sated once more. heeseung and sunghoon looked up at you, their faces glistening with your essence, proud smiles on their faces.
"that was fucking incredible," you breathed, your voice husky and filled with satisfaction.
heeseung and sunghoon laughed at your bewilderment, their mouths and lips covered in their own cum and your juices. 
after the intensity of what just happened, the three of you collapse into a warm, comfortable silence. the room is quiet, only the sound of your breathing and the faint rustling of sheets filling the space. sunghoon is the first to move, his touch gentle as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his eyes soft as he watches you. heeseung shifts beside you, his hand sliding over your back in slow, soothing circles.
“you okay?” heeseung murmurs, his voice low and filled with concern.
you nod, feeling a strange sense of peace settle over you as they both take care of you in their own ways. sunghoon leaves and returns to hand you a glass of water, making sure you drink, while heeseung pulls a blanket over your body, tucking you in.
as you start to drift off, you feel heeseung press a soft kiss to your temple, and sunghoon’s hand remains on your waist, grounding you. you close your eyes, letting yourself sink into the comfort of their presence, and before you know it, you’re asleep.
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when you wake up, the room is dimly lit, the soft glow of the evening filtering through the curtains. you blink a few times, disoriented, before realizing that you’re dressed in an oversized hockey jersey and a pair of shorts that don’t belong to you. the jersey smells faintly of sunghoon, and you can’t help but smile at the thought of him dressing you while you were asleep.
you get out of bed, stretching a little before heading out to the living room. as you step into the room, you’re greeted by the sight of heeseung and sunghoon sitting on the couch, a bowl of cereal in each of their hands. they’re watching a movie, the light from the screen casting a soft glow over their faces, and you’re struck by how at ease they seem with each other.
heeseung is the first to notice you, his face lighting up with a smile. “hey, sleepyhead,” he says, patting the spot next to him on the couch. “come sit with us.”
you walk over, still trying to wrap your head around the sight in front of you. it’s almost surreal, seeing the two of them together like this, so relaxed and comfortable in each other’s company. it’s a far cry from the tension and anger that had been simmering between them just a short while ago.
“what are you guys watching?” you ask as you settle between them, your legs tucked under you.
“our favorite movie from high school,” sunghoon explains, his eyes still glued to the screen. “we used to watch it all the time.”
heeseung grins, nudging your shoulder playfully. “yeah, we probably watched it a hundred times back then.”
you can’t help but smile at them. it makes you feel lighter, the weight of the past few weeks slowly lifting from your shoulders.
as the movie plays, heeseung holds out his bowl of cereal, offering you a bite. you take it, savoring the simple gesture of sharing, and it feels like everything is falling into place. 
there's a sudden knock on your door, startling you out of your thoughts. sunghoon, who had been lounging next to you, looks up and asks, "who is it?"
you shrug, getting up to answer the door. "i don’t know, i’m not expecting anyone."
when you open the door, you’re surprised to see jake standing there, holding a box of green tea. "oh, hi jake. what are you doing here?"
jake gives a small, awkward smile. "well, i know you might've been feeling down about writing the story on heeseung and sunghoon since you've been close to them recently. so, i brought you some green tea to make you feel better."
you smile, touched by the gesture, and start to close the door, but then heeseung and sunghoon come up behind you. their eyes widen when they see jake.
heeseung, his voice edged with confusion, asks, "jake? why’d you come here?"
jake stammers, looking caught off guard. "hh, I just... wanted to check in on y/n. make sure everything’s okay since the anonymous tip."
“right,” heeseung nods, you can tell he’s suspicious about something, “you saw her article right? i mean, you were there with us in highschool when it all happened.” 
suddenly it clicks in your head about what heeseung is trying to figure out. jake only nods slowly, a small smile on his face. 
“yeah and i mean, if me and heeseung didn’t tell anyone about what happened in high school, then who do you think would have given y/n an anonymous tip, jake?” 
jake gulps, “i- i don’t know, guys.” 
“how’d you know i got an anonymous tip anyways? the only ones who knew about it were heeseung and sunghoon.”
at that, jake suddenly sighs, his shoulders sinking down, “fine, it was me who tipped you off.” 
heeseung’s face darkens, his voice filled with hurt and confusion, “you tipped her off? why, jake?” 
jake takes a deep breath, trying to explain. "because I admire you, heeseung. you’re like a brother to me. and sunghoon, he used to be my best friend too. i thought maybe if the truth came out, you two could finally move on."
you, heeseung and sunghoon try to process jake’s admission. 
jake lowers his gaze, the weight of his actions sinking in, "i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to hurt anyone. i just wanted to help fix things."
as the room settles into an uneasy silence after jake’s apology, heeseung finally breaks it with a soft, reassuring tone. “it’s okay, jake. we all needed to hear the truth.”
sunghoon nods in agreement, a hint of a smile returning to his face. “yeah, you were my best friend too. i’ve missed hanging out with you and heeseung.”
heeseung’s expression softens as he adds, “let’s start fresh, guys. this has gone on way too long.”
jake looks up, relieved to see their smiles, “yeah, well, it wouldn’t have been fixed without y/n. she’s the one who wrote the great report.”
you blush slightly, feeling a mix of pride and relief. “it’s no problem, guys. it’s all i ever wanted.”
with the mood lifting, you look at jake, sunghoon, and heeseung and suggest, “why don’t we all hang out? you’re here now, so let’s drink some green tea together and watch the movie.”
they all nod and you all sit down together, sipping tea and enjoying the movie they all used to watch together.  
the end of your investigation was one that you didn’t expect, but it was a happy one to say the least. you think that this is the end of your sports journalism career– you’re ready to write more thrilling reports once you graduate. 
but still, there was still one more question that you had to answer: who would you pick out of lee heeseung and park sunghoon? 
you’re lying in bed, heeseung’s arms draped comfortably across your stomach. his messy hair is sprawled across the pillow, a relaxed smile on his face as he sleeps. the warmth of his embrace is soothing, and you can’t help but feel content. heeseung has always brightened your day with his kindness and charming smile.
you don’t know what you’d do without him. 
then, sunghoon walks into your room, his pale, muscular chest on display. he hands you the daily newspaper with a gentle smile and quietly settles down beside you, careful not to wake heeseung. his presence is dominating and calming, and he leans over to press a soft kiss onto your forehead.
you glance at the newspaper’s headline: 
Ex-Sports Journalist Dates Two Captains
a quiet giggle escapes your lips, and just as you’re about to comment, heeseung stirs. 
“i wonder who that’s about,” he murmurs, still half-asleep.
sunghoon rolls his eyes playfully and says, “shut up, hee.” 
heeseung chuckles and replies, “gladly,” as he pulls both you and sunghoon into his arms.
the three of you collide together, making you and sunghoon squeal in surprise. the warmth of heeseung’s embrace and the closeness of your boyfriends together makes you relax, the headline long forgotten already. 
even though you can’t tell the difference between a homerun and a hat trick, you still managed to fall in love with both of the most popular athletes on campus. and, amidst the very long hockey and baseball lessons, and your hatred for sports, you’ve still managed to score a win in the game of love. the ultimate game changer. 
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3K notes · View notes
inkdrinkerworld · 4 months
Text
𝓒𝓤𝓟𝓘𝓓'𝓢 𝓒𝓤𝓡𝓢𝓔
Synopsis: James can make your days trying to get a story for your company really hard, he gets under your skin and knows exactly what buttons to poke and you hate it.
cw: a bit of an axious!reader, rugby!james, i used the house names for the clubs but it is not at all set in the HP universe.
wc: 1.1k
-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-
Sports journalism is fun and rewarding. 
You love going to the post and pre-match interviews and talking to the players and managers and getting all the insight you can to then write your story. What you don’t like is having to interview James Potter. 
Everytime James sees you in the press room, he decides it’s his time to be the most non-descriptive, non-responsive to all of your questions and make it difficult for you to even write a story. He loves giving you vague answers that don’t answer any of your questions and it gets under your skin like nothing else. 
It’s even more tiresome when he’s the team’s go to media-man because of his looks. He’s England’s current heartthrob first and their best flanker second. He’s beefy and burly, with curls that look like they’ve been ink dipped individually and dimples that throw a wrench into many a woman’s plan. It also doesn’t help you, mostly, that he’s the perfect gentleman the minute the cameras are on and everything he says takes on this sugary, colying tone.
Dread fills you as you walk into the media room, finding a few familiar faces before you sit to the back. You hope in vain that James isn’t on media today, maybe they’ll put his sweet teammate Remus on media duty. He’s always sweet and succinct, answering all the questions, no matter how ridiculous, with a grace and precision you suspect makes him perfect for being the team’s fly-half. 
You’d even interview his rowdy teammate Sirius, possibly the best winger in the game right now, and endure his loudness and even his flirtations with the camera so long as you just got good answers. 
Your hope is shattered when you hear James talking as he rounds the corner, your hands grow cold knowing that today is the day you write a half decent story about the Gryffindor team. 
“Morning,” he calls as he enters, his eyes find you immediately and the smile he shoots you makes you scowl. It’s going to be a long press day. “It’s great to be back.” 
“How have you and your team prepared for the start of the season? Knowing it’s a derby game must make it all the more exciting to be back.” One journalist starts, sweat already pebbling on your brow. 
James answers perfectly, in depth and with the knowledge that you sometimes forget these players possess. 
“What about the injured players from last season? Can we look out for their names on the starting squad? What sort of system can we look forward to this season?” You ask, hands shaking as you prepare for the worst. You hate how much anxiety courses through you nowadays in these interviews. They used to be far more fun. 
“I can’t well say what we’re going to play this weekend, it’d be a bit of a helping hand to the Slytherin team.” The media room laughs and you have to bite your tongue to keep the scowl off your face. “However, we’ve got a lot of key players back in the squad, so I’ll say keep your ears open for some names you haven’t heard in a couple months.” 
By the time you’re finished with the conference, you’ve got sufficient answers for the hopes of the beginning of the season but every other question was bypassed or you’d received a roundabout answer. 
You’re picking up all your equipment, the other journalists all gone already. James hovers near the door, watching you for whatever reason but it makes your skin crawl. He has to know what he’s done. 
“Can I help you, Potter?” You ask, lifting your head to catch a peek at him. His arms are folded across his chest and he’s leaning against the doorframe, something sort of like a smile on his face. 
“Just waiting for you to be done. Wouldn’t feel right to just leave you in here alone.” There’s a bit of sincerity but mostly amusement in his tone and you roll your eyes. James laughs and pushes off the door frame moving towards you, “All done?” you huff and sigh, hoisting your bag over your shoulder and walking past him. 
“Have a good training session, James.” he nods, watching you go with a smile on his face, one that spreads bigger when your perfume lingers in the room after you. 
-
When you hit submit on your report you feel good but stressed. 
What usually takes you an hour and a half to get done, took you twice as long because reports have been so slow during the off-season that you wanted to get it perfect before the opening match. Stretching, you make your way into the kitchen. 
You’re sure half the worry was unnecessary and the other half was about impressing your boss. God knows you need that woman to be pleased with something you do this year. 
Your phone rings before you can give in to that anxiety inducing thought, your stomach pits and the cup of tea you had to your lips lower. “This is Y/n.” 
“Hi, I want to talk about the interview you just submitted,” Your boss is a bit of a hardass. She’s always harping about things being ‘perfect’ and stories being complete, so in the two years you’ve worked there, though you’ve climbed to higher and higher positions, you’re still the fresh and sort of peppy girl you were to her when you’d handed in your resume and appeared in her office in a blue suit. 
“Sure,” you set down the tea and open your laptop, ready for a slew of changes or to change whatever she wanted you to. 
“It’s great,” that’s high praise, yet you sense something in her tone. You’re almost certain she’s going to make you rewrite the entire thing to make the opening game of the season, a derby game no less, seem even more anticipated than it already is. “I just want you to add a little more about the history of both teams. Potter’s already brought in an influx of new fans, we want to make it easy for them to get into the season and get behind either team and feel the rivalry.” 
That’s not what you’d been expecting. Not what you were expecting in the least. 
“I’ll resubmit tonight by eight.” is what you say but inside you’re twirling and jumping around your apartment while morning sun streaks through your living and early 2000s pop music is blasting through the house. 
James Potter and his non-answers be damned, you just got the best compliment of your work life.
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gresit · 11 months
Text
today's match aged me 20 years at least
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perfinn · 9 months
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translate your vibration
rugby player!soap mactavish x reader
wc: 3.1k
summary: you're a fieldside medic for a rugby league team and you care a bit too deeply for one of the players. he cares right back
cw: NSFW, f!reader, medical inaccuracies, oral (m receiving), oral (f receiving), johnny's face is covered in blood, medical malpractice too probably, semi-public sex, johnny is lowkey concussed so dubcon just to be sure (but he wants this trust)
special thanks to @kitkatscabinet for helping this come to be!
read on ao3, divider by saradika
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“Ye come here often?”
It takes everything in you not to laugh at Johnny’s obvious attempt at flirting. Not because he’s misguided or the advances are unwanted– truly, you wouldn't mind at all in any other circumstance. Only right now, you’re trying to assess him for a concussion. That, and he’s still got his mouthguard in so paired with the blood dribbling from his nose, his words are a garbled slur. 
“Stop moving, Johnny,” you tell him, handing him another cloth to press to his bleeding nose– broken again, you’d wager. You’ll get to that in a moment. 
“‘Am no,” he mumbles, lifting his head when you tilt up his chin and giving you a charming grin. Even with the mouthguard and a twisted nose, he’s still the most handsome man on the team. Which, given your own penchant for beefy rugby-type men, is saying something. “Just askin’.”
“It's not helping your case, then,” you say, gripping his jaw tighter when he tries to move again. “Because you know good and well I come here often. I’m your medic.”
“ Mine ?” Johnny echoes with a somewhat-delirious chuckle. “Och, I’m lucky then, have ye all to maself.” 
You want to correct him, to tell him that you're technically the whole team’s medic, but you don't. You let him be, and instead reach to grab a light to check his pupils. He does manage to hold still as you shine it into his eyes, though he’s helped along by your firm grip on his jaw. His pupils react normally, but you’re still concerned. 
“How are you feeling?” You ask, taking a seat across from him as he finally spits out his mouthguard and presses the cloth to his nose. “Head pounding?”
“Aye,” he says, and you frown as you watch the cloth steadily soak with blood. “But it has just been knocked off my shoulders. ‘Am not seeing  two of you, if that's what you mean. Wouldn't be complainin’ if I were, mind you.”
You hum in response, seeming dubious. You suppose that's good, all things considered. Flirting aside, if he is concussed, it's not deeply serious. Still, you’re concerned. But you know Johnny. He loves to play, loves the game. And he’s one of the best players in the club. You glance behind you at the screen that's playing footage of the game, biting your lip. You can see how desperately Johnny wants to get back out there, he’s practically buzzing in his seat. So somehow, you’re going to have to break it to him that you’re keeping him off the pitch for at least the remainder of this half. Naturally, he’ll be a nuisance about it. Whine, complain, probably beg you to reconsider. Part of you doesn't want to deal with the guilty feeling those puppy dog eyes envokes. 
So, you stall. 
“And the nose?”
“Fuckin’ kills,” he confirms, lowering the rag and grunting in satisfaction when no more blood drips free. “Broken.”
“Again,” you sigh, moving to stand up again. The fact his nose has stopped actively bleeding does loosen the vice-like grip of worry that’s wrapped around your ribcage. He’s breathing okay too, which loosens it again. Still, though, it’s suffocating. 
(You shouldn't worry so much about Johnny. He’s been knocked around far more than you could ever handle and played through much worse. But you’re a bit selfish when it comes to Johnny… you care about him more than you ought to as a professional.)
“Cannae complain when it means I get to see ye,” Johnny says with a cheeky grin as you put your fingers to his nose. “I like it when ye dote on me.”
“You won't like me in a second,” you say. He laughs shortly, and you suppose that he assumes you’re talking about setting his nose. In a way, you are. But that's not why he’ll actually be miffed with you. He’d probably never be miffed about setting his nose anyway, he knows it's a necessary pain. 
You give him a smile, gently prodding at his twisted nose to get your hands in the right position, and you don't bother giving him a countdown. Instead, you break the news to him as quickly as you can manage as you snap the bone back into place, “I’m keeping you off.”
“ Fuck ! Yer what?!” Johnny rears back in his seat with the combined impact of the pain and the sudden information. You step back, wringing your hands together as he blinks harshly. You’re sure there’s dots in his vision from the pain, and once his head clears enough he’ll process what you’ve said. 
“Bonnie,” he says slowly after a moment. The sweet name makes your stomach twist in a strange anxious delight. “Tell me yer joking.”
You give him a sheepish smile, unmoving– and he knows you won't budge. He also knows how much his coach trusts you, and if you say he’s out, he’s out. His coach won’t put him back in if you say not to. But you know he’ll argue anyway. “Until the next half, at least. I need to keep an eye on you.”
Johnny groans deeply, sinking down in the chair. He growls your name, and you’re a tad ashamed to say it goes right to your core. 
“We’re only 20 minutes in, I’ll miss half the game! You cannae-”
“You’re staying off, Johnny,” you say firmly. When you’d started on as the Eels’ medic, you’d been a bit shier. But you’d learned quickly that these men were hardheaded in more ways than one, and being shy and timid would get you nowhere in enforcing their safety. So you took note from their coach and got tough with them. It earned you the respect you needed, and also the trust from their coach in knowing that you could handle them. “And you know I won’t be changing my mind. Now if you want to go back on at all, you’ll behave.”
This earns you another groan, but the growly tone of it says something entirely different than the last one. You feel your cheeks warm, and hope to god he doesn't notice. 
“Talkin’ dirty won’t make me forgive you, you ken,” Johnny says, knuckles pressed against his closed eyes. “Ye really won’t budge?”
“You know me better than that.”
“Aye, I do,” he sighs, dropping his hands and lowering his lidded gaze to you. “Lucky yer sweet talking me, lass. Wouldn't be so forgiving otherwise.”
It's not a threat meant to be taken seriously, you know. It's a threat that does something else entirely, but you hurriedly stand and clear your throat. Professionalism, you tell yourself. It's the backbone of your career. To be surrounded by hot, burly, virile men all day and not do anything about it is a god damn superpower. 
“Price will be as disappointed as you are, but he’ll let you watch from the bench-”
“‘Am no going out there,” he says, standing up with less hurry and far more care. Despite his protests, he is heeding your warnings and taking care with his head. “Can watch the game from in here. Got another way for us to pass the time.”
You stop as you’re turning toward the door, glancing back at him while he inches closer to you. “Johnny…”
You know exactly where he’s hoping to go with this. And as much as you want to – god, you want to – you truly can’t. You’d lose your job. Probably lose your licence if the powers that be were feeling extra annoyed by it, and absolutely shatter your reputation in the process. 
But then… that’s only if you get caught. There’s no security cameras in the locker rooms– there isn’t allowed to be. There’s 20 minutes left of the half, no one’s going to come in here until then. You could. You could do it, and be done with it before anyone notices.
(You’re obviously being intentionally naive in thinking you’d ever be satisfied with just one taste of Johnny, but for now it’s the only way you can rationalise it.)
“C’mon, bonnie.”
You turn back round to face him, bouncing a bit on your toes. “We’ll need to be quick.”
Johnny’s bloody and bruised face lights up with a toothy grin and he nods dutifully as he closes the distance between you both. He lifts his hand to place it on your cheek, his palm warm and rough against your skin. “Cannae tell ye how much I’ve thought about this.”
You laugh a bit, staring up at him. You don’t mind so much that he’s still a bit covered in his own blood. “This is so unprofessional.”
“Aye, it is.”
He doesn’t waste another second before he’s putting his mouth on yours, teeth clacking against yours with the desperation and intensity of his kiss. You hear yourself make a soft noise of surprise, or something akin to that. It’s hard to say, hard to organise your emotions when your brain only wants to focus on Johnny, Johnny, Johnny.  
He’s intoxicating. If being around him and simply being flirted with by him was as addictive as it was, actually kissing him, touching him beyond just treating his injuries, is heroin. He’s backing you up toward the lockers before you realise it, moving his hands from your cheeks down to your body. His hands explore you with no inhibitions, his rough hands squeezing at your tits. He groans into your mouth, pulling his lips away from yours to look down.
His forehead presses to yours as he takes in the sight of your body. Of course, you’re fully clothed and it’s nothing he’s never seen before, but it’s the fact that for this moment it’s his.
(Johnny is well aware that half his team wants you. Maybe more than half, but half of them had openly expressed it. While you’re gone, while they’re winding down in the locker room. But none of them could pull it off. None of them had seeped through the cracks in your professionalism and found their way into your pants. But Johnny had. He had barely even started with you, and he's already thinking about how he might gloat about it.)
“Fuckin’ gorgeous, bonnie,” he mumbles, pressing a short kiss to your lips. “Would love to take my time with ye.”
“Me too,” you breathe, arching into his touch as he gropes at your tits. “But we can’t.”
“Aye,” he says, a scowl creasing his bloodied face. “Bloody tragic. S’alright, lass, next time.”
Part of you wants to say there probably shouldn’t be a next time, which is true, but your brain is already surpassing its ability to form sentences– and the idea of denying yourself of more Johnny sounds like a nightmare right now. You can’t even entertain the thought, not while Johnny is pressing his bulge to your leg, groaning as he shamelessly ruts against your clothed thigh. 
“What d’you want, bonnie?” He asks, voice breathy, almost growling in your ear. “Tell me. I’ll give it to ye.”
You have to bite your tongue to prevent yourself from asking him to fuck you outright. You’re not entirely sure why you don’t say that, actually. Maybe it’s the time constraints, or maybe it’s his cock pressing against your thigh, but fuck, you want to taste it.
“Let me suck you off,” you demand unceremoniously. Johnny chuckles, likely at your commanding tone, but nods as he presses a kiss, then another, to your neck.
“Christ,” he says between heated kisses. He seems almost disappointed to let you sink to your knees, leaving his mouth unoccupied. He almost starts panting as he sees you stare up at him from your knees, reaching for the waistband of his shorts. “Yer fuckin’ perfect. Goan then, lass, then I’ll give that pretty pussy of yours the treatment it deserves after, yeah?”
Nodding along to his ramblings, you tug his shorts down and find yourself disappointed as you come face to face not with his cock, but with his compression shorts. The both of you groan, and Johnny almost tears them off in his desperation to remove them, cursing the shorts under his breath– you bite back the urge to remind him of the medical benefits of wearing them; besides, any thought you have is cut off by the sight of his cock, hard and leaky, springing free. 
It's beautiful, which is a strange thing to say about a cock, you know, but there's little else to describe such a pretty thing. You wrap your hand around the base, licking an appreciative stripe along the underside of it. 
“ Fuuuuck ,” Johnny groans, hand falling gently on the back of your head. Not pushing, but just resting there. “Good fucking girl.”
You take the head of him into your mouth, gazing up at him as you begin to take him deeper, bobbing your head along the length of him. Johnny’s head hits the wall as he moans freely, seemingly unashamed of the idea of being caught. He’s lost in the warmth of your mouth, and you can't much blame him, because you’re lost in the weight of his heavy cock on your tongue. 
Johnny’s eyes are lidded as he turns his gaze down to watch you, and you feel his thumb rub gently over the back of your head as you take him deeper, stopping about halfway down his length, and just stroking what you haven't fit. 
“S’alright, bonnie girl,” Johnny mumbles, voice low. “Dinnae have to take me all today, we’ll work at it, aye?”
His muttered promises make you moan, and that makes him moan. You go back to bobbing your head, the locker room filled with the lewd noises of your mouth. 
It doesn't take Johnny an exceptionally long time to start reaching his end, his hips twitching as he holds back on the urge to fuck right into your mouth. He has the self control to care for your comfort at least. 
“Gonna- fuck , lass, can I come in your mouth?”
Were it anyone else, or any other situation, you’d probably say no. But it's Johnny ; and right now the two of you can't exactly afford to deal with a mess. You hum your affirmative, and apparently the slight vibration of it is enough to have him coming. You see the muscles of his lower abdomen tense before you feel his hot release spill onto your tongue. You take every drop, even when it begins to feel a bit much. When his body relaxes and he leans back against the wall, you pull away and swallow, making Johnny groan lowly. 
“Perfect,” he praises, gently guiding you to stand before kissing you again. He licks into your mouth, tongue laving over your teeth like he’s trying to taste himself. Only as you lean to return the favour, he’s flipping the both of you around so your back is against the wall and he’s kneeling before you. 
“Promise is a promise,” he mumbles, tugging eagerly at your leggings. You can tell he’d love nothing more than to rip them from your body, but he exercises enough self control to just drag them down to your calves, your panties going along with them. 
The position isn't ideal, but Johnny’s enthusiasm isn't hindered. He spreads your legs as far as the leggings will allow, one thumb tugging your lips aside. He groans, leaning forward and inhaling deeply. His nose brushes against your clit and you whine, cheeks warming at the lewd gesture. 
“Johnny,” you urge, threading your fingers through his mohawk and tugging gently. Johnny moans. Then, he shuffles forward on his knees and presses his face between your thighs, dragging his tongue over your dripping pussy. 
One of his hands grabs at your thigh as he licks you, slurping desperately at your slickened cunt. Another tug at his mohawk draws his focus to your clit, which he sucks into his mouth with an appreciative groan. Even when he can't talk, Johnny is incredibly loud; there would be no hiding this from anyone listening outside the door. 
He sucks at your clit, hand moving from your thigh to slip a finger into your cunt, making you moan before you slap a hand over your mouth. Johnny’s eyes open, and his eyebrows furrow. 
He pulls away, despite your whined protest, and takes a short breath. “Lemme hear ye, lass,” he encourages. “Don't hide from me.”
“Johnny,” you begin to protest, cutting yourself off with a gasp when he eases another finger into you and curls them right against a spot that has a loud moan falling from your parted lips. 
“That’s my girl,” he praises, ducking right down to graze his teeth over your clit.
His mouth combined with his rough fingers is driving you mad, making you squirm in place as pleasure begins to sear the ends of your nerves. 
“ Johnny !” You cry, head banging against the wall as your orgasm hits you without warning or much buildup at all. It feels as though it's been punched out of you, making your body tense and tremble for a few good seconds, mind floating miles above your body. 
When you return to earth, Johnny has pulled his fingers from your pussy and has them in your mouth, his nose pressed against your clit as he ruts his hips against his hand. You're entranced watching him rub himself through the overstimulation, fingers in his mouth and bruising nose in your pussy. It's only a few more moments before Johnny spills into his fist, a guttural groan muffled by your cunt. 
He sighs, pressing a loving kiss to your pussy. Then, he pulls back, face shiny with your slick, and looks up at you, grinning lopsidedly. “Alright, bonnie?” He asks, like he hasn't just jerked himself to a second orgasm on his own. 
“Yeah,” you breathe, words like laughter. “Are you?”
He nods, shuffling awkwardly to his feet and looking at the mess on his hands. Pants still around his knees, he shuffles over to your medical supplies and gets himself a tissue, wiping his hand off before tugging up his shorts. 
He returns to you, who’s struggling to stand, and gently tugs your pants up for you. He kisses you, softer and sweeter than before, and smiles against your lips. “Ye were perfect, bonnie.”
You hum, shifting your legs so that your underwear doesn't press wrong against your oversensitive cunt. 
The door opens before you can respond, and the first person inside is Johnny’s coach, John Price. The two of you must have somehow missed the siren in the heat of your joint pleasure. The bearded man takes in the scene of the two of you standing so close, and the slick on Johnny’s flushed face, and a heavy sigh leaves his lungs. 
“Fucking hell, MacTavish.”
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moamidzyism · 3 months
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class is in session!
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as some of you might know, i just graduated college in may and so i thought it would be fun to do a series of college themed fics for all the groups i write for. it is going to be one fic per group and each of the fics will be around 1k words, give or take. i am really excited about this event, especially the last fic because it is a tyunning smau that i have been thinking about since last year :p anyways i really hope you guys enjoy this <3333
locked out (c.yj)
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est wc. 1.5k genre. smut tags. resident assistant!yeonjun x fem!reader posted on. jun 20
stupid games (l.mk)
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est wc. ~1k genre. smut tags. computer science major!fem!reader x screenwriting major!mark, academic rivals to lovers (if you squint) posting on. tba
[11:11] (h.yj)
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est wc. ~1k genre. smut tags. yunjin x fem!reader, roommates to lovers posting on. tba
grading on a curve (w.jh)
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est wc. ~1k genre. smut tags. teaching assistant!jun x student!fem!reader, enemies to lovers (if you squint) posting on. tba
team player (s.mg)
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est wc. ~1k genre. smut tags. rugby player!mingi x team manager!fem!reader posting on. tba
pledge week (l.cy)
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est wc. ~1k genre. smut tags. sorority sister!chaeryeong x sorority sister!fem!reader posting on. tba
after midnight (j.sc)
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est wc. ~1k genre. smut tags. frat bro!sungchan x nerd!fem!reader posting on. tba
one for the road (h.kk + k.th)
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genre. smau tags. rockstar!tyunning x!fem!reader began posting on. sep 1
taglist: @naomiarai @dearlyjun @atinyniki @boba-beom @bunnie-hq @honglynights @isabellah29 @pluviophile-xxx @wolfytae-exe @yutacchin @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @tinyelfperson @nikilvrfvr @wccycc @ryunjin0 @tyunzonlystar @ioveyouyouloveme @thejadeazalea @mong-mong-seungmin @jisoolover @jjklvr9 @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @snghoonluv @itzzz-yerin @ujisworld @milanco @gyulinoo @tenleeluvr @everythingboutkpop @meowiejuns
comment below or send an ask to be included in the taglist for this event! fill out this form to join my permanent taglist!
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world-of-wales · 2 years
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The Princess of Wales poses for a photograph with England Women's Rugby League players and the Canadian captain Gabrielle Hindley as she attends the England vs Papua New Guinea Rugby League World Cup quarter-final match at the DW Stadium, Wigan on 5 November 2022.
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janeyseymour · 6 months
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Bruises
for @sleep-deprived-athlete 🤍
Summary: you come into Abbott looking like absolute hell. Melissa is worried.
WC: ~2.55k
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You really hadn’t meant to get all bruised up at the Rugby game on Saturday- but the sport was tough, and you were by no means a player who would give up a play because you were afraid to get a little scuffed up.
Maybe a little scuffed up was an understatement, if you’re being honest. Your jaw is a beautiful shade of purple and so is your eye thanks to a shoulder to the face, your shoulder is killing you, and the one tumble that you had taken left you with a sore ankle and a bit of a limp.
Still though, being a teacher never stops, and you find yourself dragging your bags and yourself into Abbott bright and early the next Monday. 
Your sitting in the staff room, drinking your coffee and icing your shoulder as you continue to go through your lessons for the last coming months of the school year, when the rest of your friends start to make their way in as one big clump. How they all manage to pull up to the school and walk in together almost everyday without fail is beyond you… actually, you know how. They told you that they all plan to get there at exactly 7:43 to enter the building at 7:45, but you were a stickler for time and an early riser already, so you just came in before everyone else to enjoy the peace and quiet while you had the room to yourself.
“Y/N!” Janine gasps. “What happened to you?” 
“Hm?” You hum as you allow yourself to take your eyes away from your paper for just one second. Only then do you realize that Janine, Gregory, Jacob, Barbara, and Melissa are all standing in front of you with their jaws dropped and looking quite concerned. “Oh, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”
“Sweetheart, forgive me for being blunt, but you look like you went to hell and back,” Barbara states. 
“It looks a lot worse than it is,” you tell her as you avert your eyes back down to the papers in front of you. “I promise you, I’m fine.” You adjust the icepack before wincing slightly at the cool sensation.
Melissa and Barbara share a look before Melissa sighs softly. She digs around in her bag for a second before pulling out her CBD oil. “Move your hair.”
You do so without looking up, not really questioning the instruction. You’re so focused on your lesson plans that you just follow the order without a second thought. You’re shocked though when you feel liquid on your shoulder. “Mel, what?”
“It’s just CBD oil… it’ll help ease the pain,” the redhead tells you. And then her hands are rubbing the oil into your shoulder, and you can’t help but let out a soft groan. Shit… maybe you really should go get your shoulder checked out. 
“Hun, what happened?”
“Just got a little roughed up,” you sigh as her hands continue to massage the sore spot.
That does not help the worried looks that your coworkers are giving you. 
“Guys, I’m fine,” you promise them. “I have to head down to my classroom to do a bit of prep, but I’ll see youse all at lunch.”
As you stand and start to gather your things though, you let out a small hiss in pain at the pressure on your ankle. All of their heads immediately snap in your direction.
“Hun,” Melissa frowns.
You hold up a hand, silently requesting for no further comment on the matter. You limp your way out of the staff lounge and head into your classroom. You thought that you could make it through the day without having to put your ankle brace on, but you were clearly wrong. You’re lacing it up when the redhead makes her way into your room and closes the door.
“What’s going on?” she asks you frankly. 
You just continue to lace up your brace, mildly annoyed that she won’t let it go.
“Mel, I’m fine. Just a little-”
“A little roughed up,” the second grade teacher cuts you off. “I heard you the first time. You don’t get to come in here after a weekend with a shiner that competes with the one Kristen Marie had after her and I squared up after Nonna’s funeral, a bum shoulder, and an ankle brace and get to be mysterious about it. What gives?”
You take a deep breath before meeting her green eyes with your own. “I fell. I’m fine.”
“Fell?” Melissa raises a brow as she folds her arms across her chest. “You don’t get all of your injuries from a fall.”
“Well, I did,” you sigh. “I don’t know what else you want me to say. It’s the truth.”
“Did anyone help you fall?” the redhead asks. “I know you and your girlfriend broke up a couple weeks ago, and if she did this to you-”
“She didn’t do nothin’,” you tell her quickly. “Now please- I have to prep for today.”
“Hun-”
“Melissa,” you grit through your teeth. “Please. I have to prep, and I’m moving a little slower than usual, so I need all the time I can get.”
Your coworker purses her lips. “Fine. But know that I’m always here if you need to talk.” She turns on her heel and heads out towards her work wife’s room. You close your eyes as you pinch the bridge of your nose. 
“She’s actin’ real weird,” the redhead states as she sits in Barbara’s rocking chair.
The kindergarten teacher nods. “Poor thing looks like she crawled out of the seventh layer of hell.”
“And she got real snippy with me when I asked her if Jen had anything to do with it… shut me down real quick and refused to talk to me anymore,” Melissa sighs. “I just want to help her if she’s in a sticky situation.”
“Melissa,” Barbara says softly. “If I do remember correctly, you were the same way when things got messy with Joe.”
“I know!” the second grade teacher huffs. “But now that I’m on the other end of it… I just want to help if I can.”
“And that is very kind of you,” the older teacher tells her friend. “But if she’s not ready to ask for help, the only way that you can help is by being kind and gentle with her.”
“I guess,” Melissa purses her lips. “Well… I suppose I should go pretend to do my job.”
“I suppose you should,” Barbara nods. “But seriously… do not go all Schemmenti over this. I’m sure Y/N is fine, and if she isn’t… we’ll be there to help pick up the pieces later.”
The redhead grabs her coffee before entering the staff lounge once more. She brews another pot of coffee and fills her own mug before grabbing a spare from the cupboard. She prepares that second cup of liquid gold the way she knows you like it before heading back down to your room.
“Hey,” she knocks on the doorframe gently. “I figured I would bring you another cup so you don’t have to limp your way down during prep.”
You smile at her gently, as much as your bruised jaw will allow you to. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” Melissa says softly, so out of character for her. “I’m here to help.”
When you expect her to linger, she just gently sets the cup of coffee on your desk and makes her way back out to her own classroom.
When your kids come in, they’re immediately asking you what happened, if you’re okay.
“I’m doing just fine,” you chuckle. “But thank you for your concern. If you think I look bad, you should see the other person,” you joke, thinking none of them will care enough to repeat your words. What you’re saying is right though- the other girl got just as roughed up, if not worse. Oh how wrong you are. 
Come lunch, Melissa is right at your door, asking if you want her to bring your lunch down for you from the break room.
“I can come get my lunch,” you chuckle as you wave off her offer. “I could use the movement anyway… been teaching from my chair.”
The two of you make your way into the staffroom, and she all but pushes you into a chair before grabbing your lunches out of the refrigerator for you. When you expect her to sit down next to you with her own lunch, she doesn’t. She heads for the fridge again and pulls out two ice packs. She gently tucks the first one into your bra strap to ice your shoulder, and then she’s sitting down and gesturing for you to prop your foot up on her lap.
“Melissa, I’m really okay,” you try to tell her again. She shakes her head though and all but forces your leg into her lap. She unlaces your brace before setting the icepack over the bruised area. Then, and only then, does she dive into her own lunch.
You smile softly at her. “Thank you.”
“Someone’s gotta look after you when you won’t ask for help,” she rolls her eyes. “And I’ll be damned if it isn’t me.”
The lunch period passes by quickly, but then you remember that you have recess duty. With a sigh, you reach forward to lace up your brace again.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Her hands try to stop your own.
“I have recess duty,” you tell her. “Don’t worry, I’m planning on bringing a chair out and just monitoring from there.”
She ties your brace up for you before standing with you. “I’m not letting you lug out a chair by yourself with your ankle and bum shoulder… Jesus, don’t you think you should go get your ankle checked out? It’s the size of a baseball.”
“I’ve had worse,” you sigh offhandedly as you begin to make your way outside. No more than thirty seconds later is she outside with you, two chairs under her arm. She sets them out before gesturing for you to sit down.
“Thanks,” you mutter. The two of you sit there for a bit of time before the warmth from the sun begins to become too much for you, and unconsciously you roll up a sleeve- revealing the bruises on your arms.
The redhead next to you does everything she can to not stare at them as her mind goes a mile a minute, wondering exactly how you got all of these injuries.
And then two kids run up to the two of you. One is in your class, and the other is in Melissa’s.
“Miss Y/N,” your kid says as she bounces on her toes.
“What’s up, Jayla?”
“Tell Amaya what you told us today about why you have all of your bruises,” she tells you. “She doesn’t believe me.”
“I fell?” you respond, confused as hell.
“Yeah, but what did you say after that?”
“Thank you for your concern?” you tell her, even more confused than the first time.
“But then what after that?”
You shrug.
“You told us that we should see other person that did this to you!” Jayla yells.
You purse your lips into a fine line, and you can see the way that Melissa is eying you in your peripheral view. “That’s just an expression, hun. I didn’t mean it literally.”
“You still said it,” your student smirks before turning to her friend as they walk off. “I told you she said that!”
“So,” Melissa leans in. “What was that?”
“I didn’t really mean it,” you huff. “It was a joke. I didn’t think the kids would remember it.”
“Hun,” the redhead lays a gentle hand on your shoulder. “If you need help…”
“I don’t need help,” you sigh. “I promise you. I’m just fine.”
And then the bell rings to signal the end of recess. You limp your way over to your students’ line while Melissa gathers the chairs under her arm again and takes them inside. You get the kids back inside and finish out the day teaching from your desk. 
After school, as much as you would love to just go home and relax, there is a staff meeting. You slowly make your way into the library and take up your place next to Melissa. While you’re waiting for everybody else to come trickling in, the redhead reaches into her bag again and pulls out her CBD oil. Before you can stop her, it’s on your shoulder again, and she’s gently working it into your skin.
“Thank you,” you whisper softly, trying not to groan out in pain.
She just nods before lifting your injured foot into her lap again. Melissa unlaces your brace again and begins to rub the oil over your swollen ankle. At that, you grimace, but you let her continue. 
And then Ava is making her way in.
“Hey y’all,” she grins as she makes her way over to your table. “Damn girl… you did a great job on Saturday.”
You chuckle lightly. “Thanks.”
“What game?” Janine asks. “And why weren’t we invited?”
“Ava wasn’t even invited,” you roll your eyes. “She was just there where I was playing rugby.”
“I was there to…” she smirks. “Check out the eye candy and go window shopping. I had no idea Y/N is the hottie that she is.”
“You play rugby?” Melissa raises an eyebrow.
You nod. “And that… is how I got the black eye, the bruises, and the shoulder and ankle injuries.”
“Why wouldn’t you just say that?” the redhead asks you. 
You go to speak, but Ava decides that now is the time to start her meeting, claiming that most of the faculty was in the room and she doesn’t want to have to be here much longer. So, you aren’t able to answer.
Once the meeting is over, Melissa is helping you out to your car in silence. 
“Why wouldn’t you just tell me that you got hurt playing sports?”
“I didn’t wanna seem like a wuss,” you shrug, only to wince slightly at the throbbing in your shoulder. “I didn’t want no one making a big fuss over me.”
“Hun,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “Of course we were going to make a big fuss over you when we saw you. I was out here thinking you got beat up or were getting abused… I wish you would’ve just told me that you got hurt playing a sport.”
You turn a bit sheepish. “Sorry.”
“You promise me that this was from rugby?”
“Promise,” you sigh softly. “The team I was playin’ was tough and showing no mercy… the ref called a bunch of flags, but by that point the damage was done.”
Melissa gives you a sympathetic look. “Well, why don’t you come over tonight, and I’ll help nurse you back to health? Cook you dinner, let you ice, rub some more CBD oil on your injuries.”
“Are you flirting with me?” you tease her. 
The woman in front of you just shrugs. “Maybe… what do you say?”
“I’ll be there by five,” you chuckle as you hobble along to get into your car. 
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