#sports club lockers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heesdreamer · 1 year

Text

SUNSHINE

PAIRING ➩ basketball player heeseung x cheerleader reader

WARNINGS ➩ um its super rough smut lol

WC ➩ 5k

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ i hate both short works and straight smut but i guess that vlog got to me so here you go NOT PROOFREAD also i don’t like writing the boys completely out of character and i do not think hs would say or do half of these things lol but for the sake of the story

“You might just be the least positive cheerleader of all time.”

You were turning your head to the side to glare at the voice suddenly appearing from your left, sighing and rolling your eyes when you spotted who it was and going back to your position with your arms crossed on the side of the court as the game continued on.

“Aren’t you guys supposed to be all smiley and ‘go team’?” Heeseung was continuing on even though you were clearly ignoring him, something you did every time he attempted to bug you during the games and rile you up enough to get a reaction.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on the court and not sat next to me on the bench?” You were snapping back at him and you quickly glanced at him before looking away when you saw the familiar smirk creeping up on his face.

Heeseung was definitely not a bench warmer, far from it considering he was practically the star of your schools basketball team and he knew you were aware of this. That still didn’t stop him from occasionally allowing the coach to switch him out so he could come and sit near the cheerleaders, seemingly finding a lot of mid game entertainment in you and your cold reactions.

You’d gone to school with him for most of your life but you never really noticed him until high school started and you joined the cheerleading team under the pressuring words of your mom.

She’d been one when she was your age and she claimed it to be the sole reason she loved high school, the place where she met all of her friends and eventually your father when he transferred their junior year. You’d pretty much expected to be forced into it since you were a child and now on your fourth and final year, you were more so just going through the motions.

Your stoic, and borderline aggressive, personality mixed with the image of you in a small glittery skirt and your hair sporting a giant obnoxious bow in your schools representative colors, seemed to catch the attention of the star player and he hadn’t left you alone since.

“When would I get to talk to you if I wasn’t on the bench?” He was leaning sideways towards you and you frowned softly, trying to ignore him and the stupid smirk sticking to his face now. “It’s not like you stop for me in the hallways.”

“Have you tried taking a hint?” You were once again harshly spitting the words at him and you felt a bit frustrated with yourself for not being able to keep your composure like normal, already stressed from an intense workload and the building pressure of graduation as it approached. “Why can’t you go bother your fan club, I’m sure they’d be more than willing.”

Heeseung definitely didn’t have the same concerns as you and you didn’t necessarily blame him. It isn’t his fault he was immediately offered full ride sport scholarships to multiple different schools and as much as you hated to admit it, he worked hard for his success and he deserved it.

That fact still didn’t make it any less annoying that he was constantly bugging you with his quick comments about your attitude or his countless attempts to flirt with you, asking for your number or sending you Valentine’s Day singing grams every year since you’d met, even though you’d stormed into the cafeteria freshman year and dumped his soda on his head for humiliating you.

He hadn’t gotten upset and started to dislike you like you had hoped for, instead he smiled and moved his wet hair out of his face before asking if you liked the flowers he’d left at your locker.

“Why would I do that? You know you’re my favorite, sunshine.” His tone was lower now and the nickname fell from his lips casually, routine by now considering how much he said it despite the fact you told him to knock it off every single time he used it.

You were sparing him once last glare before turning back towards the game and ignoring the fact he was a lot closer to you now, one small sideways scoot away from being off the bench and on the same bleacher seat you were on.

He was persistent to a point that you could almost admire and you’d never be foolish enough to deny that he was almost stupidly attractive but that didn’t change anything for you. You had too many differences for you to be truly interested and it didn’t help that he smelt like sweat almost every single time you saw him.

Plus, you weren’t lying about his fan club and you already had to deal with numerous sharp glares and mean whispers throughout the years and that was without you reciprocating the interest.

You’d long associated the boy with negative things so it was pretty common for you to greet his smiley face with an eye roll or a straight up sneer, trying your hardest to ignore him but typically falling into a small session of half bickering half flirting before he was giving up again and leaving you to sit and seethe. You couldn’t even escape him at home either, something you were especially aware of right now.

It was two hours into trying to get some homework done and your patience was wearing thin the longer the sound of the basketball outside continued on.

You just so happened to be in the universes shit list and you lived directly across from a park in the neighborhood. You’d been excited when you first moved in, being able to play constantly when you were younger and eventually developing it into a nice place to sit and relax after school. You would have solo picnics under one of the big trees or just go and listen to music laying in the grass.

That is until Lee Heeseung also moved into the neighborhood, starting off your sophomore year with a big obnoxious moving truck on the other side of the park and what followed nearly drove you insane.

He was outside nearly every single day after school and practice, no matter if it was cold or hot, rain or snow. What once had been a calming spot for you to unwind was quickly overtaken by the sound of rubber against cement and you stopped going the day he started.

Sometimes he’d wave at you from the court, catching sight of you glaring down at him from your open bedroom window, but he never made any attempts to talk to you or invite you to join him unlike he did in school and neither of you ever mentioned the fact you were neighbors during your little moments of heated conversation. You learned to ignore him over time but you were particularly stressed recently and before you knew it you were letting out an annoyed yell before marching out of your room.

You’d barely processed the fact you were moving as you tugged a hoodie over your head and slipped on your boots, heading out the door and slamming it as you passed through.

Some of your fire had disappeared by the time you were actually pushing out into the cold night air and crossing the empty street, your steps becoming more hesitant as you entered the park and approached the basketball court, realizing you were going to have to actually speak to him. He didn’t look over as you got closer and your frown appeared again at the sweat gleaming from his skin, his neck red and agitated like he was pushing himself past his limit.

“Do you ever go home?” You were asking before you had decided it was a good idea and you were almost as surprised as he was to hear your voice, jumping slightly at the same time he did as he whipped around to look at you.

He looked confused for a second when he saw you standing there on the court with your hands stuffed in your pockets but when he seemingly processed it was you, he was breaking into a small smile.

You watched him as he continued to pant and try and catch his breath to be able to respond to you, sighing in the meantime and taking a few step backwards so you could sit on one of the benches and stare up at him in the middle of the court.

“Almost didn’t recognize you without your pretty little skirt, sunshine.” His response was eventually coming and it immediately pulled an eye roll from you despite the fact your stomach flipped as he took a few steps in your direction, tucking his basketball under his arm routinely and watching you with amusement and interest.

“Yeah well…” You couldn’t think of a good comeback as he continued to get closer and you inwardly blamed it on the cold.

“Did you come to cheer me on?” He was asking in a soft voice but it had a mocking hint to it, not necessarily mean but potentially bitter and you stared up at him as his eyebrow cocked. “My own personal cheerleader?”

You were trying to get a good read on his expression but it wasn’t making any sense to you, his face lacking it’s usual lightheartedness and almost looking conflicted as he watched you and seemingly waited for you to finally think of a witty response. You didn’t have one, thrown off by both his strange demeanor and having a conversation in an unfamiliar place and you couldn’t tell if he was pleased or disappointed at your sudden loss for words.

He wasn’t saying anything further and you would’ve sighed in relief if it wasn’t for the fact he was watching you so intensely, eventually sitting beside you on the bench and you tensed up when you felt his thigh pressing against yours.

“You didn’t have to stop playing.” You were eventually muttering and you would’ve been more self conscious about your out of character behavior if he wasn’t already being so strange.

“Yeah I did.” He was sighing and you turned your head to look at him, being met with his side profile as he stared straight ahead towards the court and ignored the fact you were staring at him. “You’re a distraction.”

A laugh was bursting from your lips accidentally, almost a scoff and you cut it off short by covering your mouth and giggling out an apology when he shot you a sideways glare. You were shaking your head and trying to gather yourself before clearing your throat softly. “You see me every time you play, never been a distraction then.”

“Are you kidding me?” Now it was his turn to laugh but it was a lot more dry than yours and almost sarcastic sounding, like he couldn’t believe you’d actually said that. “You don’t think seeing you in that outfit every game is a distraction?”

He was finally looking at you now and your face flushed at how close that made you, nearly touching noses if either of you leaned forward slightly but you stayed perfectly still and scanned over his face as you tried to take in his words. You would’ve thought he was joking around and doing his usual rounds of mindless flirting but his tone was flat and his face remained serious, even as you watched him curiously.

You weren’t exactly sure how to respond and your words felt caught in your dry throat, letting down your guard for just a second too long and being struck with nerves.

“A good distraction?” You were eventually pushing out and your voice lifted in a curious tilt, his serious face breaking into a small smile again at the sound of your soft question and hesitant tone, two things he rarely heard from you.

“Yeah sunshine, it’s good.”

——

You spent the next two days avoiding Heeseung as much as you can, having ended the night in some more whispered small talk before he was resuming practice and you were eventually slipping off back to your house once the cold became too much for your hands and nose.

It was weirdly nice to watch him play in a place where he wasn’t obviously trying to show off and under the pressures of competition, watching the skillful way he moved and the sweat that continued to reflect off his deep tanned skin despite the bitter cold touching on yours.

You still felt awkward for having interrupted him and it didn’t help that you had finally played into his flirting for once, mistakenly letting your guard down once you saw him in a more neutral environment and you felt extremely embarrassed about the whole entire encounter. You were telling yourself it had nothing to do with the fact he made your face flush every time he leaned closer or the way your stomach flipped as he talked about your skirt distracting him.

Sadly, you couldn’t stay away from him for long considering a school year quarter pep rally was approaching and everybody involved needed to come to the gymnasium to practice together, including both the cheerleaders and the basketball team.

You frequented the gym a lot more regularly than other students and were pretty used to being in front of a crowd or performing routines to all of your peers but you could tell some of the clubs who would be involved were feeling nervous, striking up conversation with one of the boys from the dance club to try and ease his nerves.

The conversation was entirely friendly and even a little bit awkward considering you barely knew him and he was a lot younger than you but little did you know, Heeseung was watching you from across the gym and making his own assumptions about the interaction.

You completely missed the way his jaw was clenching as he watched the two of you laugh, you instinctively leaning forward and touching the boys arm as a comforting gesture and giving further reason for the hard glare being sent your way from the other side of the room. It didn’t help that you hadn’t been speaking to him and had went right back to actively avoiding him, he’d been overthinking it and looking forward to talking to you about his worries today since you had to be in close proximity.

So it was driving him crazy that you still hadn’t approached him and even worse, you were too caught up in a conversation with some kid he didn’t bother to place a name to.

Eventually the first round of practice was going to start soon and Heeseung watched as your coach said something to you briefly, stared as you nodded in acceptance and then wandered off to go and gather whatever it was that she had asked for.

He was following behind you without even thinking about it, completely ignoring the calls from his teammates asking where he was going and urging him to hurry up before the run through started. You were heading back towards the storage lockers where there was plenty of extra balls and uniforms, anything that might be needed during a game or an event.

You were barely thinking about the basketball player during this whole time, too distracted with the busyness of the day, but he immediately came to mind when you felt something pressing up against you from behind after entering the storage room that was tucked behind the large indoor bleachers.

“What are you doing?” You were grumbling out to him in your usual annoyed tone even though your stomach was flipping at the fact he was actually touching you for once, something he rarely did despite his constant advances.

He wasn’t fully pressed against you but just enough so that you could feel his clothing near yours, you could sense his large frame looming over you and practically caging you in near the wall you’d been passing when he arrived. You shifted slightly so you could turn your head to look over your shoulder and glare up at him when he didn’t respond.

“Who’s the kid?” He was responding and his voice was lower than usual, lacking it’s typical lightness and humor that came along whenever he felt like teasing you.

“Don’t be jealous of a freshman, it’s not a good look on you.” You were shaking your head and sighing, turning back to look at the shelf and try your best to ignore him despite your alarming awareness to how close the two of you were.

It was only increasing when his hand was finally touching you, snaking forward and resting against your hip in a way that caused your breath to catch in your throat, making you lose your nonchalant demeanor for just a split second before you were attempting to compose yourself again. He was just holding onto your hip, his hand large enough that his fingertips were pressing into your stomach.

You didn’t say anything as he touched you and you still didn’t when he was tugging you backwards softly, pulling your bottom half against his instead of fully pressing against you. Your eyes fluttered shut for a second at the feeling of him but you didn’t want him to see the obvious effect he had over you.

You were wearing a hoodie over your cheerleading uniform and half of his hand was underneath it so he could feel the hem of your skirt properly, bunching up the thick fabric around his arm slightly. He’d only pulled your lower half backwards so you were partially bent over now, barely enough to be noticiable but the implication made your cheeks burn.

“Why would I be jealous?” He was finally asking and his voice didn’t cut the tension at all, if anything worsening it. “Wasn’t him you were thinking about when you put this on.”

A scoff was falling from your lips at his sudden claim, despite how true it was considering you’d stared in the mirror particularly long this morning thinking about Heeseung calling you a distraction. Your careless attitude wasn’t holding too strong especially since he was squeezing your hip bone softly, your body instinctively pushing back further against him and causing your breath to stutter.

You felt slightly dizzy from the feeling of him against you so intimately, mixed with the fact that he had obviously been jealous over something as simple as you having a conversation. It should’ve annoyed you like it normally did but your heart raced slightly instead and you placed your hands against the wall subconsciously.

He took that as a cue to bend you over more, bringing his other hand up to your empty hip and using both of them to tug you fully backwards by the waist so you were flushed against him.

“Why are you wearing this?” He was suddenly asking and you were confused for a second before you felt him tugging on your large hoodie, childish annoyance in his tone at the fact most of your uniform was covered up.

You laughed softly at his whining, your voice embarrassingly affected and breathless. “Didn’t want to be a distraction.”

“That’s bullshit, you like knowing I’m watching you.” He was mumbling again now and it almost sounded like he was talking to himself, not really caring if you heard him. He was taking another step forward now and you could feel him more now, your head falling forward at the realization he was hard against you. “You’d let me take you right here, wouldn’t you?”

You considered not answering for a second and lowering his ego but he was slightly shifting backwards and releasing the pressure and a wave of panic ran through you.

“Yes yes I would.” You were rushing out and moving backwards to try and feel him again, ignoring the soft chuckle he gave and the way he squeezed your desperate hips in amusement. “You know I would.”

“Always so mean to me sunshine.” His voice was mocking again like it was the other night at the park and you were slightly thrown off by his change of demeanor, not expecting the roughness from the boy who was always big smiles and loud laughter everytime you’d seen him. He was bordering mean at times with his rough touches and provoking voice but you didn’t mind it at all, knowing you’d be dripping down your thighs if you were less clothed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry for being mean Hee.” Your voice was high and whiny but you were too turned on to be embarrassed, knowing how pathetic you must look.

“Show me how sorry you are.” He was instructing and you paused for a second, not exactly sure what he meant until he was lessening his hold on your hips. “Fuck yourself against me.”

Your breath was catching in your throat again and you let out a soft whine, one of your hands on the wall sliding down it slightly as you almost lost your balance.

He wasn’t exactly radiating patience and you were beyond desperate so you wasted no time in giving him what he wanted, pushing yourself back against him harder and crying out when you felt that he wanted it as much as you did, almost painfully hard now. His hips instinctively moved forward to meet yours but he immediately froze and stopped, letting you do all the work as you continued to roll your hips against him and try to get some sort of relief.

It wasn’t nearly enough for you, barely enough pressure for you to feel him and imagine how deep he would feel inside you but not enough to actually help you out in your building desperation, overwhelmed with longing for him as your hand fell off the wall and reach back to grab into his wrist.

“Please, I need you to touch me please.” You were begging him and a soft cry sunk into your voice, your head spinning with how bad you wanted to feel him anywhere.

“Fuck look at you.” He was grunting out before caving into your request, pulling you up softly and walking forward so now your entire body was pressed against the wall.

The cement was cold on your cheek and it would’ve been too uncomfortable if it wasn’t for the immediate distraction he was providing, his large hand slipping under your hoodie and aggressively groping your chest. His knuckles must’ve been rubbing against the wall but he didn’t show any signs of caring about the pain, twisting your hard nipple in his fingers and humping himself against you.

Your head was falling backwards to land on his shoulder, panting and letting out streams of high pitched whines as he roughly played with your mounds and thrusted against your skirt covered core.

He was using his free hand to reach over and grip your chin, holding it tightly between his fingers and turning your face so he could sloppily kiss you from where you laid on his shoulder. You were happily humming into his mouth despite the amateurish way you were moving against each other, more combined teeth and swapped spit than an actual kiss.

You could feel it dripping down your chin as he licked into your mouth, completely filthy and dirtier than you ever imagined him being. It was driving you absolutely insane and you’d completely forgotten about where you were or the fact people were expecting you back, the door not locked and accesible to anyone who came looking for you.

“Want you inside me Hee, please.” You were crying out into the kiss and he was only pulling back enough so you could speak, watching you with hooded eyes and parted lips and he tried to catch his breath and process what you were begging for. “I need you so bad, I can’t breathe.”

“Want me to fuck you sunshine?” His mocking tone was back and he squeezed your chest aggressively to emphasize his words, rutting against you in a sharp thrust that sent you harder into the wall again. He ignored your shocked cry and did it again before laying another wet kiss against your mouth. “Tell me baby, go on and beg for me.”

“I’ll do anything please, anything.” You were nearly sobbing now as you desperately tried to appeal to him, rocking yourself backwards into his hard cock to try and get him riled up enough to snap. “Need your cock in me so bad, do anything.”

Your words were slurred and mainly gibberish by now but it seemed to be enough for him, he cursed under his breath as he watched you desperately beg for him and you barely had time to process the fact he was moving before he was tugging down his basketball shorts and pressing your face against the wall again.

You moaned sharply into the cold cement and you were grateful it muffled it slightly considering you only got louder once he was roughly pulling up your skirt, ripping down your panties in one go and not bothering to warn or prep you before he was pressing the head of his hard cock against your entrance.

“Next time I’ll take my time with you, make you fall apart for me slow.” He was muttering in your ear as he lined himself up, pressing forward slightly and covering your mouth with his head when you let out a loud cry. “Can’t wait anymore though, gonna fuck you like the slut you are.”

You were nodding enthusiastically at his demeaning words, the more coherent part of you fluttering with butterflies at the fact he was already thinking about a next time that wasn’t so rushed. You had no issue with him simply fucking you now, feeling like you’d die if he spent another second teasing you or building up to it.

He was finally pushing himself fully inside you and your legs would’ve gave out if it wasn’t for his arm that was snaking around your stomach and his heavy weight pressing you against the wall, practically suffocating you as you lost your breath from the feeling of his complete length inside of you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He was hissing out between gritted teeth and you instinctively clenched around him at the comment, satisfaction rolling through you when he groaned at the feeling. “No idea how long I thought about this.”

“Then show me.” You were snapping out, immediately hearing him laugh as your usual attitude resurfaced for a second, quickly growing impatient the longer he stayed still inside of you.

You were quickly taking back any anger you had when he was pulling out of you, almost all the way, before slamming his entire length back in. You could feel him so deep that you almost couldn’t catch a breath, bucking forward and your mouth parting in a silent cry that was immediately interrupted when he started to fuck into you at a fast pace.

He gave you no time to adjust to his thick size and you were grateful for it, the rough burn of him stretching you being exactly what you needed after years of bickering and teasing with him. It was beyond what you could’ve imagined, all that tension finally bursting into relief as he fucked you so rough you’d surely be coated in bruised by the time the pep rally actually rolled around.

You’d gone completely dumb and you knew he had too, holding his composure just enough to continue his aggressive thrust but losing all ability to tease you or make more comments towards your behavior.

He was holding you tightly against him and you almost wished you were somewhere more private so you could see him undressed, suddenly overcome with the need to feel his skin against yours and be completely covered in his warmth. You tried to ignore the unusually soft thought towards him and focus on how good he was making you feel, the familiar tight coil building in your stomach as he continued to fuck into you deep and rough.

“Please please.” You were begging again but you weren’t even sure what for at this point, your mouth just moving on instinctively so he didn’t stop under any circumstances.

“I know baby I know.” His voice was more gentle than it had been before but still just as tight and overwhelmed, definitely reaching the end rapidly himself like you were and trying his hardest to prolong it considering how good you felt as you kept getting tighter and tighter around him. “Squeezing my cock so good sunshine, you’re so perfect for me.”

“For you, just for you.” You were quickly responding to the casual possessiveness he had showed and this seemed to affect him more than anything, his hips faltering for a second in their assault before he was fucking into you even harder than you thought was possible. He clearly liked hearing you claim yourself as his own and you felt overwhelming dizzy at the realization.

It was a complete blur now as he fucked into you, coming undone faster than you ever had before and blacking out for a few seconds from the pleasure of him doing the same inside of you. You were too out of your head to care about the fact he had came inside of you and you didn’t even think about it.

You were immediately worried it would be awkward once you were coming back to your senses but then you processed the fact that Heeseung was placing soft kisses against your neck, turning you around gently so you were finally facing him and you felt a bit emotional from how kind he was being now after he’d just taken you so aggressively.

You were definitely in some sort of dropped space after the intensity you’d just been through because you were kissing him suddenly, happy you’d had him in that way but now feeling like you’d missed out on seeing him from this point of view.

He was grateful accepting the kiss and tugging you forward by your lower back, the same place he’d been holding but very different context now as he softly moved his mouth against yours and brushed your hair out of your face.

“Are you going to let me take you on a date now?” He was asking into the kiss and you pulled back to laugh softly, laying your head down on his shoulder and feeling the way they lifted as he chuckled at your reaction.

“Yeah hotshot… I’m sure we can work that out.”

6K notes · View notes

starrynights-sunnyskies · 6 months

Text

mine to save ⋆*·ﾟmisa x femreader

tension rises when you are tackled, right in front of misa’s nose. instead of yelling at her backline for getting them a penalty, misa is mad that her teammate has hurt her girlfriend.

Matches like these were both a blessing and a curse— for you’d finally have some time to see each other again after weeks of working for your designated clubs, but it also meant that one of you would be left disappointed with the results of the match. Still, to Misa, it was worth every defeat to see her favourite girl again in the flesh, preferably with the biggest grin on your face. That did not mean Misa would not give it her all while underneath the post for the entirety of the match, which was exactly why she needed no distractions. Misa never really had any problem to switch her focus on while stepping onto the field, and even if the sight of you running around near her was tempting to distract her, she still only had focus on the ball and the player making it move. She knew she had most of the next day to give you all the attention you deserved, but right now, that attention had to be focused elsewhere. That hadn’t stopped her from sneaking her usual mischievous grin your way when the two of you shook hands, though. The fact that it never failed to spur on some kind of blush on your face filled her with even more confidence. So as she ran up to her goal, she knew this was going to be a good day. Her girlfriend was in her line of sight, breathing the same air, and no longer only on her screen, the sun was out and she had a match to play, what could go wrong?

Well, she could lose said match, and she’d be pretty damn mad about it if she did, because she’d blame it on herself mostly, but she’d take the hit if that meant you would be sporting that big and beautiful grin of yours. Only, you weren't. Your bottom lip was curled inside and trapped beneath your teeth as your eyebrows were set in furious frustration. Misa would have found it adorable in any other situation, especially if she’d been the one to block your goal and then sent a wink your way, but the backline of Real Madrid just wouldn’t budge and let you through. Granted, that was their job. Misa was fine with that, if anything, it made her own job more easier and their win within reach, but she knew how frustrating a game could be when it did not go in your favour. That no matter the tactic that had been practised over and over, was not coming to fruition. It didn’t help that your team was mostly playing you long balls to surpass the midfield, leaving you standing isolated from the others and having to outwit Real’s defending wall by yourself. After the 39nth minute, Athenea’s shot hit the back of the net, heightening the stakes and the frustrations even more. It had become a physical match, consisting of shoves, tackles, pulls and harsh collisions. Just no cards yet, though that was waiting to happen next. It probably hadn’t happened yet because both teams could be equally blamed, and that would leave either team with little to no players left on the field.

Next, some through balls were intervened before they even reached you, and after glancing to the sidelines every so often and realising the coach had no plans of changing tactics yet, you balled your fists and disappeared off the pitch at halftime in lightning speed.

This behaviour was not foreign to Misa, so she followed after her team to the locker room. Football was a passionate sport, one she could lose herself in in the same way you did, and you were a passionate player. It was one of the things she loved so deeply about you. Not that a lot of people knew, of course. She never really saw use in mixing work with pleasure and although, yes, dating a fellow futbolista was blurring those lines a bit, she would never give her girlfriend special treatment when on the pitch.

“Looks like she’s been missing you like crazy, the way she’s been bullying us to get to you.” Olga glanced at her, playfully raising an eyebrow, knowing of the couple.

“More like you're bullying her,” Misa raised her eyebrow in return, challenging her, but the grin on her face mirrored her lightheartedness.

“I’m not going to take it easy on her, if that’s what you mean.”

“She’s just another player on the pitch for me. Can’t have my career jeopardised because I froze on purpose to let my girlfriend score against me.”

“Ice cold, you are,” Olga laughed, “But that’s only if they get through us. We’re holding up well so far.”

Misa hummed while taking a sip from her bottle. She wiped her chin dry, “Hm, thank you for that. I’d rather you deny her a goal. I do not want to sleep on the couch tonight if I end up stopping their first attempt.”

Olga rolled her eyes, “That’s not going to happen and you know it.”

“Best to be safe.”

“I mean, she does seem scary. The way she growled when she got smacked down or shoved against us! Girl has attitude.” Raso piped up from beside them, having heard bits from their conversation, “Just a bit, though…” She quickly added when she noticed Misa’s stare.

But to Misa, passion was passion. And as much passion and love you had for the game, you also had in multitude for her. The goalie suddenly turned chipper, her expression brightening as she stood up to get back on the field.

“I know. Isn’t she the best?”

As the whistle blew again, Misa noticed the fury had only barely left your body— your shoulders still held tension and your gaze still spat fire. The sight shouldn’t have worked her up the way it had, but she couldn’t help it. There was something extremely alluring and, dare she say it- incredibly hot - knowing that you had this side to you as well, in stark contrast to your usual soft and giddy demeanour off the pitch. It was normally the other way around, with her being the fiery one. She loved whenever you got like this. When you would fight, not flee. Whenever your looks could kill, albeit unknowingly. Misa had only seen it a handful of times before and each time it had left her feeling primal. But this was not the time to let that feeling take over. She was at work, there were eyes on her, and she’d already been tagged in the occasional post that suggested the two of you were a couple. It wasn’t like she was ashamed of herself or her relationship, no, quite the opposite. But Misa was protective over the small pink cloud she’d been on ever since being with you and, to be completely honest, she was too greedy and wanted no one to be let in on their love. It was all yours and yours only. Misa had never really been like that before. Granted, this was her first serious relationship, and if it were up to her, also her last. Still, she could tell that this was special, nothing ordinary. The real deal. She was protective and dominate in the sense that her hand would always hover on your lower back, she'd hand you her jacket or have a bag with snacks and other necessities at the ready for you. She’d always drive the car and open a door or sent a nasty glare towards anyone making you uncomfortable. Since day one, she had promised herself to make life the best it could be for her girlfriend. She’d picked up on your tells, knew what you liked and hated simply by reading your face. She could tell when you needed her, or when you needed some space. Communication was hardly ever needed when Misa always already seemed to know what you thought or felt. It surprised you, at first, how considerate and caring she was. It also embarrassed you for ever thinking the girl didn't have it in her. In your defence, that side had only come out when the two of you had gotten closer. You'd quickly understood that Misa was a guarded person when it came to letting someone in further than surface level, and that made the roar of pride and love you held for her burn at the realisation that she'd let you in. Waters run deep, and Misa had been the deepest damn part of the ocean at first, but here you were now. You were hers, and she was yours.

Misa never really thought too much about it like that. She just loved you more than she ever knew she could love someone. It was a simple fact, not something she pulled apart to examine. She treated you like a princess, simply because that was exactly what you deserved. Treating you to the best of her capabilities wasn't even a chore. She loved it all. It had even been an ongoing joke within your shared group of friends that Misa mirrored the behaviour of that of a lion and her cubs, but that was just the way Misa was when in love. Fiercely protective, incredibly loyal and with an abundance of love and adoration to give to those she cared for. And just to your luck, there was only one name her heart was chanting over and over again. It was admirable, endearing even, that someone could love so hard. It had only ever gotten her in trouble once, when you had tagged along to a club with Misa’s national team friends and a guy had cornered you on your to the restroom. It had ended the night abruptly with a calm but firm warning to leave the club, but it had also kept you out of harms way. A fair deal, if you asked her.

It was evident right from the start that your team had changed things up. The formation had changed, for starters. The gap between midfield and you had closed up and the defence seemed to stay behind more, guarding the wings. No more long balls, but quick-fire attacking play. With Real’s change to press more on the attack during this half, it left spaces between defending players large enough for the opposing team to work around. Misa’s voice bellowed across the field as she warned her backline to fall back, having seen through the next attack. They quickly did, and so your team retaliated a bit, passing and playing to find open spaces or to lure the defence out. A bad pass and Real was at play again, pushing forward and closing spaces to prevent a counter. But you hovered around, eyes squinted and focused on the ball and the placement of your teammates. You were closing in on Real Madrid, just as you’d practised. It was a surprise intercepted tackle that left Raso without the ball, looking backwards to see how it had gone back into play.

On her side of the pitch, with a little more overview, Misa saw before the rest how you ran in line with the ball flying through the air— eyes focused on it like a hawk to try and not fuck this up by being too eager and thus running off-side.

“Oye!” Misa yelled at her backline, who caught on just as quickly. She watched as your form neared and Misa tried to anticipate how to block out the goal. She was used to running out and taking the ball out of play the ballsy way, but also knew that you were unpredictable thanks to your broad skillset. If she ran out, she wouldn’t put it past you to not cheekily chip it over her head before she had a chance. If she stayed on the line, she knew that you’d just sent the ball flying into the far outer corner, just out of her reach. If she waited a little longer to try and use her gift to read you so effortlessly during football as well, then maybe the momentum would already be gone.

Then she saw it. Even if it was only the slightest inclination to your next movement, Misa knew— you were going to shoot it in the far corner, having felt the defenders of Real Madrid closely behind you and knowing they would not let you get any step closer to the goal if you didn’t act soon. Misa shuffled to the right side, anticipating your shot when she saw Olga appear behind you. She heard the thump of your body dropping against the ground like a bag of sand, the grunt that left your throat and the crowd that went haywire as you came to a nasty fall in the penalty box. The ref immediately ran over, the red card dooming high above Olga’s face. But that wasn’t the only red thing on the pitch.

Misa saw red. Seethed. Glared. Grind her teeth together and locked her jaw. Olga listened to the ref, while you were still on your stomach, turning your hands to see the burn marks of your fall and slowly pushing yourself up on your knees. A blur of bright green approached you in a flash and a large glove was protectively placed on your shoulder.

“I’m okay, only some burns.” You immediately reassured, having seen the painfully worried look on Misa’s face. She hated whenever you were hurt or sad, and if you didn't know any better, you'd say she'd usually feel just as sad or hurt whenever you did. If only such a thing was possible, you knew Misa would always swap places with you so you didn't have to feel it. She looked into your eyes to find the confirmation, her gaze soft and caring, until it hardened again when she looked back up at hearing the squabble happening behind you. She gave you a curt nod as she carefully helped you back to your feet. You shook out your limbs a bit and dusted the grass of your kit when that same flash of neon green whizzed by you in your peripheral. She put herself right within the circle of arguing players and the referee. But where other Real players where trying to get the ref on their side, Misa immediately turned to Olga, joining your teammates.

“What was that?! Was that necessary?”

Olga, surprised at the sudden turn of conversation, took in Misa’s intimidating form looming over her.

“That was mine to save, not yours.” Misa continued.

It was painfully clear that Misa's outburst was about the tackle with the amount of passion she spat her words and how she’d checked up on you earlier, not the penalty it had bestowed against her team.

Olga put up her hands, knowing there was no calming Misa down right now. Not when she was in game-mode and, hells, not when she'd just hurt her girlfriend.

“Easy, alright, I’m sorry. I miscalculated.”

“Yeah, you did,” Misa felt the ref’s hand push her back, heard the warnings of getting a card, then another set of hands, Raso, who gently pulled her back, before a more familiar touch gently held onto her underarm.

“It’s okay, shake it off, I’m okay.” She heard from behind her, your thumb grazing over her tattoos. Posing as a barrier, she stood in front of you, one of her gloved hands behind, careful to keep you there, watching with squinted eyes as the group of players dispersed when the ref blew the whistle and pointed to the penalty spot.

“I’m not taking it,” She heard you say and she immediately whipped around.

She knew you were only saying so as to not put Misa in even more of a mental predicament, but she didn’t want you tapping out of what could be an opportunity to put another goal behind your name.

“Que?! No, you were done wrong, so you’re taking it.” Immediately back into focus, she walked to the line, looking everywhere except at you, not wanting to heighten your nerves. Perhaps she’d been a little too harsh, but there were still eyes on her and she didn’t want to give anyone watching even more to gossip about— she’d simply make it up to you later. After all, on the pitch, you were just any other football player to her… even if she’d just yelled at her own teammate for taking you down, and not even for the right reasons.

Adrenaline coursed through her veins. She reached her arms up, bounced on her toes and then clenched and unclenched her hands into fists. She was ready. But were you? Finally, she had to avert her eyes to you. Your chest expanded with the big breath you took, digging the points of your cleats into the grass to get more grip in your shoe. Four steps back. Hands beside your hips. Pulling your jersey down. Adjusting your right sock. Misa knew this by heart, even if she’d only ever had you in front of her goal for penalties during training on your time off together.

The shrill sound of the whistle rang across the pitch.

She could practically see the strength amping up in your legs on your run to the ball. Your left hip was slightly off, the weight in your body more to the right and as you leaned back, even ever so slightly, she knew you were going for the far right corner, perhaps the same thing you'd had in mind before you had been taken down. You knew she'd know this, maybe you were trying to not give yourself the advantage over her by doing this, but Misa was not going to sit back and let it soar in.

Misa jumped, reached out, her fingertips grazing the ball before it hit the lower side of the bar and hit the net after an echoing clink. The crowd went haywire again, this time for a more positive outcome.

Misa took the loss in stride and watched as you took your win in quite a similar way. Then, as everyone went back to their positions, she couldn’t help but have to bite back a cheeky grin— she’d almost gotten in trouble for you again, but once more, it had been a fair exchange for your happiness.

⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #misa rodriguez x reader #misa rodriguez one shot

578 notes · View notes

kjhbsies · 7 months

Text

Romantic Roulette

HELP PALESTINE • donation links • ways to help • why you should not buy/support TLOU2 remaster

Football Player!Ellie x Classy fem!reader

Synopsis: Ellie, the charismatic star and team captain of the school's football team, finds herself entangled in a daring bet with her teammates. When challenged to win the affection of someone who is deemed to be "out of her league", - you, the one who everyone thinks is straight and seemingly Ellie's complete opposite - Ellie takes the wager with a huge confidence.

As Ellie made her way to pursue you, she soon realized that breaking your walls is no easy task. Unexpectedly, the more Ellie gets to know you, the more she finds your genuine charm and personality. Amid the game, Ellie discovers that her heart is no longer in it for the bet but for a chance at something real.

wordcount: 6, 473 Part II : PART III: PART IV

based on this request!

Romantic Roulette

Ellie Willams, one of the school’s most famous girls. Not only because she’s the football captain and has been distinguished as the best player in the nationals game, but because she has the looks that make every single girl drop down on their knees and worship her.

It’s good, really. She loved the fame, the attention, and the girls that came with it. You can always see Ellie in different clubs, partying her ass out, not caring about the school tomorrow. She was always the center of attention in there, and you could spot her, always in the middle, with a ring of girls encircling her, wanting to even get a chance to just touch her hair or even her tattooed arm which everyone adores.

Ellie always finds herself with different girls in her bed every single night. But she liked to think that it wasn’t her fault when they started catching feelings for her. Because, hey, she just wanted to have a good time, and she doesn’t really fully believe in some bullshit everyone calls love. She saw it as a waste of time, and thus she doesn’t even bother to commit to a relationship.

Every girl flocked around her feet, wanting even to get a taste of her body, and Ellie wasn’t a saint to decline them. They wanted to please her, and who was she not to agree to that? She doesn’t even bother asking for their name because she knows that she will just forget about it by the time they are in bed. Ellie always has someone who she calls whenever she felt horny, and they would oblige immediately no matter what day or hour is it. And that’s one of the many perks that she loved about being herself.

The locker room was loud as hell after their practice. Everyone was buzzed and energetic amidst the hot weather. Different conversations were emerging as the players were catching up with each other.

Ellie walked out of the shower and everyone’s attention was already with her. Wearing her sports bra and grey pajamas, Ellie laughed as she heard someone talking about a funny incident last night. She sat down in one of the chairs inside while drying her auburn hair with a towel.

“Fuck it, man. You just swooped in and got to bed Atasha that fast?” Riley asked.

Ellie laughed loudly. “Sorry, dude, she’s practically begging for me all night while we’re at the club. It’s pathetic.”

“Damn, I was talking to her all night and she just immediately stood up when she saw you.” Riley shook her head, feigning her sadness.

“Sorry, dude. You should’ve seen her bouncing at my cock last night. She moans like a fucking chicken.” Ellie stood up, picked up her hoodie, and immediately wore it. Everyone hollered at her joke. Riley playfully smacked her in her arms. Ellie looked at her watch and groaned. “Ah, I still fucking have a history class.”

“Man, be thankful that Mrs. Garcia was your professor. Her tits are spilling out every time she bends over to pick up something in her bag.” Vanessa rolled her eyes before playfully moaning.

Ellie laughed again. “Sorry, dude, I was too busy looking at my seatmate.”

One of her teammates, Alex, went near them, engaging herself in the conversation after she was done showering. “Who?” She asked, drying her arms with a towel.

“You probably don’t know her but her name’s y/n. Y/n Y/l/n.” Ellie answered before gathering her messenger bag and her bottled water. Honestly, Ellie doesn’t even know how she remembered your name. She doesn’t even talk to you in or outside the class that much. She can probably count on her two hands how many interactions you two had for the semester. There’s just something about you that Ellie can’t wrap her fingers. She can’t explain how much you attracted her.

The whole team fell silent and stole glances with each other before bursting out in laughter. This made Ellie look at them with a curious stare. Both of her brows rose, as she watched them holler, completely clueless.

“What’s so funny?” Ellie crinkled her nose.

“Well, first off, we know her. She’s like everyone’s dream girl, dude. But you can’t take her out. You’re not her type.” Alex smirked.

Ellie looked at her with an offended stare. “What do you mean I’m not her type? I’m everyone’s type.”

“Apparently, not for her. You don’t even know if she’s gay.” Alex argued.

“Everyone’s gay for me.”

“Then try flirting with her, I’m telling you it won’t work. She’s way out of your reach.”

“Dude,” Ellie chuckled, “No one is out of my reach. Wanna bet?” Ellie smirked, pulling up her wallet and raising it before Alex’s face. Everyone said a loud and long ‘ooh’ in unison.

Alex smiled back at her, “Ten dollars?”

“Make it twenty if I kissed her.”

“Fifty… if you can take her to the bed. But if you can’t, then owe me those fifty dollars.”

Ellie laughed. “You think I can’t do that?” She traced the inside of her mouth with the tip of her tongue. “Fine. I’m in.” Ellie accepted the challenge.

To start, Ellie doesn’t know much about you. Only that you loved listening to Mrs. Garcia’s boring history lessons, asking so many questions about the topic, and attentively writing down everything the professor said. This is why you’re her favorite student. And also, you loved to wear those classy vintage dresses and you’re also polite as fuck. You’re the opposite of the girls that Ellie loved hooking up with. To be honest, you’re nowhere near Ellie’s type of girl but something about you that makes her drawn to your energy like she’s a moth to the fire – you.

You’re not the type of person who would go having meaningless sex, and Ellie somewhat predicted it. Besides, her whole team was convinced that you wouldn’t budge, nor break down your defenses to Ellie. Because firstly, they believed that you’re straight.

Yeah, believed.

Because Ellie wasn’t nearly convinced that you wouldn’t throw yourself at her feet. That you wouldn’t scramble at the sight of her. That she can’t make you question your sexuality. Because Ellie was full of herself she could do that. She always does.

“So… are you free tonight?” A girl in their class asked Ellie flirtatiously while tracing the tattoo on her arm. She sat down in front of Ellie’s table, riding up her skirt to reveal more skin on her thigh. If this were a normal day, Ellie would’ve said back at her. Probably ask her to be her date for the night, and make plans where they would fuck. But since she’s on a mission, and you could go inside the room and see the two of them, then you’d probably lose all of your interest. And Ellie doesn’t want that.

“I’m not. Why don’t you just go back to your seat, Johanna?” Ellie sarcastically asked her.

The girl retreated and looked at Ellie with irritation. “My name’s Christine!” She said before angrily stomping her way to the front seat.

At the same time, you walked inside. You were holding your books in your right arm, and the other one was clutching the straps of your handbag. Your hair was in a simple style – the front pieces were tucked behind your hair neatly, revealing the gold hoops you were wearing. You were just wearing jeans and heels paired with a plain long sleeve that revealed your collarbones and curves that made Ellie’s breath hitch.

Ellie’s gaze followed yours as you were making your way beside her. Ellie took the courage to flash you a charming smile while you were sitting. She doesn’t expect you to do anything, so when you flashed back a beam, Ellie almost gasped in shock.

“Hey, darling.” You greeted and Ellie didn’t know what to do. It’s like all of her flirting skills were gone after she heard your voice. Goddamnit.

Ellie cursed herself before silently shaking her head as if to gain back her consciousness. She’s starting to look like a fucking loser. “Hi… you look pretty.” She complimented you before smirking and looking up and down your body.

“Wow,” You couldn’t help but smile shyly while gazing down. “It kinda means a lot to me since it’s from the captain of the football team.” You looked up at her, meeting her green eyes that were staring at you intently. “Though I was curious as to why you’re talking to me.” You joked.

Ellie chuckled. “You knew me?”

You shrugged. “Of course, who doesn’t?”

“Well… I thought you weren’t paying attention to me.”

You crinkled your nose. “I think it’s the other way around.”

Ellie’s tongue traced the insides of her cheek, before she leaned into her chair, still staring at you. “I just want to be friends.”

You scoffed. “Friends? Didn’t you have a lot of that?”

“Well,” Ellie leaned in front of you. She rested her elbows on her knees. “Is it bad not to want you as my friend?”

“No,” You smiled. “But it was such an odd thing. You and I were seatmates ever since and you never really noticed me. So, what’s your intentions?”

Ellie’s heart jumped. She never expected you to quip back at her. “I’m just… scared to talk to you.” She shook her head, wanting to appear convincing but it’s just a lie. Yes, Ellie does notice you every time, but she never attempts to talk to you solely because she is too busy with other girls.

“You’re afraid to talk to me?” You asked back, finding her reason ridiculous because she’s Ellie Williams. Being afraid of a girl wasn’t in her vocabulary and you knew that. “There are tons of girls who want to befriend you, Williams. You and I weren’t exactly a perfect match.” You smiled at her before you looked in front of the classroom, where Mrs. Garcia was.

Ellie was left dumbfounded.

Did you just reject her?

“It should be fucking easy,” Ellie complained to her friends while walking back and forth. They’re at Dina and Ellie’s shared boarding house after all of their classes have ended.

Dina rolled her eyes, putting on her lip gloss in her bag after she was done using it. “Well, it’s good that you knew how to get rejected for once.” She then made her way to the couch, sitting beside her boyfriend, Jesse, who was lying down sideways while eating popcorn.

“Yeah, and she wasn’t supposed to do that. She was supposed to say yes and let us be friends so I could make my advancements on her like every other girl. But no, she didn’t.” Ellie groaned.

Dina glared at her friend. “Well, first off, not every girl is the same.”

“No, Dina, I think they are.” She rolled her eyes stubbornly.

“And second, you should stop messing with her, okay? I know Y/n, and she’s a very kind girl. Playing with other’s feelings is cruel.”

Jesse nodded and hummed while putting a mouthful of popcorn in his mouth.

“And lose fifty dollars to Alex and hurt my pride? No way.” Ellie scoffed.

“What if she found that it was all a stupid bet?”

“She won’t, Dina.”

“How can you be so sure?” Jesse asked with a muffled voice because of the food. Dina smacked him.

“Stop talking while your mouth is full!”

“No one will tell her, okay? She can’t find out.” Ellie answered with a determined voice.

Dina shook her head at her. “You know what? Go on, do whatever you want because you won’t even listen to me. But don’t forget that I warned you not to continue this.” Dina pointed her finger at Ellie.

“Thank you, Dina. But I think I can handle myself.” Ellie smirked at her to annoy her friend even more.

The one place that you’ll find Ellie the most is with different clubs and bars – particularly the ones that are near the university. And the last spot that you’ll meet her is in the library.

In her defense, what would she do here? She was not fond of reading books, not even the ones that she should use, and she hated the deafening silence in this huge room. Once, Ellie tried to come along with Dina and her friends in a group study and she just got numerous glares from the librarian that was telling her to keep quiet. Ellie never learned a thing, and she’s pretty sure that she just made a new enemy that day. So, Ellie swore not to go in here.

But today was the day that she broke that promise.

Ellie strides into the huge library while holding a particularly dirty football that was fresh from the practice. She’s still in her sports attire. Her auburn hair was tied in a bun, and some strands of her hair were sticking onto her sweaty forehead and neck. She managed to change her shirt into a plain white one but her shorts were still the same.

After their football practice, Ellie never got to shower and change completely because she knew that you’d be gone on campus already. So she just drenched herself in her perfume – making sure that you can’t smell even the slightest of her sweat.

The same librarian Ellie encountered before was in charge of today. She recognized the football captain and made a face of grimace and disapproval at her looks.

“Your shoes have mud in them.” She pointed out when Ellie passed by her.

In answer, Ellie just put on her charming smile. “Oh, I didn’t even notice.” She said before briskly walking away from her.

It was not hard for Ellie to find you. It was a Tuesday afternoon and most of the students were in their respective classes so the library wasn’t packed. Besides, how could Ellie not notice you when you were walking around the room with one of your mini-dresses?

“Hey,” ElliE came up behind you. And since you were immersed in the book you were holding, you almost jumped up in shock.

“Shit, you scared me.” You said in a hushed voice.

“Woah, you can curse?” Ellie asked, amused.

You cleared your throat. “Yeah, I’m not a saint.”

Ellie chuckled at your joke. “That’s shocking.”

You snorted. “Not really. So… what do you want for you to come rushing in here right after your practice?”

Ellie looked at her dirty shorts and muddy shoes. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yup. You were tainting the tiles and Ms. Loren looks like she wants to jab you at your jaw.” You looked behind her, nodding in the librarian’s direction.

“Oh… so that’s what her name is.” Ellie looked at the woman and offered a smile but she just huffed in answer.

“Can I help you with something?” You asked again, and Ellie turned her attention to you.

“Actually… yes. I was struggling with History classes because I’m not good at memorizing ton shits and Mrs. Garcia’s quizzes were really really hard. And because of the upcoming intramurals, we’re always at the field to practice which is why I missed a quiz at her.”

“Last meeting?”

“Yup.”

“So that’s why you’re not there.”

Ellie nodded. “I never got to pass any of her exams, and she said that my grades would go down if I failed another quiz. So… can you tutor me?” Ellie shot you with a pleasing gaze.

You looked at her with a surprised face. “Why me?”

“You're her favorite student, and you’re always the top of the class. Please…?” Ellie gave you a puppy eyes.

You stared at her face, contemplating about everything. You were about to utter a word but there was nothing that left your mouth.

“I’ll do anything you want. Just… text me if you made up your mind.” Ellie says. She looked at the table in front of her and found a pen. She then gently took your left hand and wrote her number on it. Your heart raced at the first physical contact with her.

“I’ll be waiting for your text… or call.” Elli winked at you before jogging towards the door, leaving you dumbfounded.

After the class, you decided to meet up with your friends at one of your favorite cafes. Today is the perfect day to get a nice cup of warm coffee since it’s somewhat windy outside. And maybe, the drink can give you something to wake you up from looking at the number at your hand.

“What’s that?” Abby asked at the digits in your palm, causing you to jump at her voice. Her brow rose when she looked at you. She finished placing the drinks and food on the table, and you immediately got yours and took a sip of it.

“Whose number was that? You can’t stop looking at it ever since we got in here.” Nora pointed out.

You cleared your throat. “Ellie.”

“Williams?” Abby asked curiously. “Didn’t know you two have any contact.”

“Well, I told you all before that she is my seatmate in History class. But, I don’t know, she tried talking to me yesterday.” You shrugged, picking up a piece of the red velvet cake.

“Maybe she’s playing games with you,” Nora said.

“Come on, Ellie probably thinks she’s amazing.” Abby defended.

Nora rolled her eyes, “Abby, Ellie was a notorious playgirl. She wouldn’t talk to y/n just to be friends. And besides, I don’t think that was in her vocabulary.”

“Woah,” You chuckled. “Where does this grudge from her is coming from?” You threw your hands up in the air.

“Oh, so you don’t know how many girls have been crying and fighting each other because of her? Ellie is a heartless person who doesn’t care about someone’s feelings, and everyone is still blinded by it because of how she looks. Y/n, you should be careful because I think you’re her new target.”

“You shouldn’t scare her,” Abby said.

“I’m not. I’m just stating facts.”

You sighed, heavily while looking at your hand once again.

Nora has a point, but you still want to give Ellie the benefit of the doubt. She wouldn’t do that to you, right?

Right?

You were walking back and forth in your small room while looking at your right palm, and holding your phone on the other. You still have a lot of free time tonight since all of your school works and backlogs were done, so, you were now contemplating whether you should call Ellie or not.

I mean, you completely understood Nora’s complaints about Ellie since the rumors aren’t new about her. Sure, she’s a Casanova, but the thing is, you won’t even dare fall in love with her – let alone be one of her girls. You were just a kind student who wanted to help her classmate in a subject where you excelled. So, what’s wrong with that?

“Ugh.” You grunted while shutting your eyes tightly. You flopped down the bed before you quickly dialed the number.

“Hello?” Ellie’s raspy voice filled your room. You immediately sat down in your bed when she answered. You can hear loud music in the background, and a few people shouting and giggling. You figured out that she’s at a party. A girl asked Ellie where she was going but you couldn’t pinpoint what she answered because it was chaotic. “Who’s this?”

“It’s… Y/n. I- I’m sorry, is this a bad timing?”

“Oh. Oh! Y/n? Is it actually you?” She asked, voice rising with excitement.

“Yeah, I called to ask if you want to study tonight but clearly, you had other plans now, so let’s just do it some other time.”

Ellie managed to scramble outside the house where she was partying even though it was a real struggle. After a long day of practicing, Ellie and her teammates got invited to a house party hosted by someone she couldn’t even remember the name of. Being stressed for a whole week, Ellie wanted to have some little fun for tonight. And besides, she wants to divert her attention in the meantime, rather than looking at her phone stupidly for the rest of the day which Dina pinpointed.

Ellie immediately shook her head at what you said as if you could see her right now. “No, no, it’s fine. I was just actually hanging around there, not drinking or anything.” She lied.

“Really?” You don’t sound convinced by her answer. “Well, I’ll text you the address of my boarding house if you’d like.”

“Yes. Please. Thank you so much. I’m on my way.” Ellie said quickly before running towards her big bike. She ended the call, put her phone on her jeans, put on her helmet, and started the engine.

“Where the hell are you going?” Riley shouted from the window.

“To study!” Ellie exclaimed before driving away.

Riley and her teammates looked at each other with a frown and a clueless stare. “Studying?” They all asked themselves in unison.

Because there is no way, Ellie would’ve left a party.

And in her whole life, Ellie never even studied.

So, why is she leaving a party just to study?

After Ellie said that she was outside your room, you didn’t expect that she’d show up at your windows.

“Oh, my goodness!” You exclaimed in pure shock. “What are you doing in there?” You said before opening up the sliding windows.

Ellie threw her backpack filled with snacks on the floor before she completely entered. She managed to change her alcohol and cigarette-scented shirt into a decent one just to make herself presentable to you.

“Your landlady says it’s past curfew so she can’t let me in, so I managed to climb through your windows.” Ellie shrugged.

“You could fall.”

“But I didn’t, so…” Ellie flashed her charming smile before scanning your room.

It is warm and cozy. It is filled with plants and different vintage collections. Ellie noticed at least five different lamps open and candles lit to give some light in your room. It is very neat, well well-decorated, and it smells really good.

“I didn’t know vinyl still existed.” Ellie pointed out the small drawer of yours filled with different types of vinyl. Ellie walked to it and saw a vintage turntable. “This still works?” She asked.

“Oh, yes, it’s not quite as popular as it was before, but it still works.” You grabbed one and put it on the player to show her. Ellie’s brows rose and her mouth formed into a small ‘o’ when the music started filling the air.

“Guns and Roses. Classic.” She said when she heard the familiar sound.

You looked at her with a smile on your face. “You know that band?”

“Yeah, Joel - uhh, my guardian, he used to play their songs every single day to the point that he even wanted to try to learn it on the guitar.” She smiled and turned to you.

“You know how to play guitar, too?”

“Oh, a little.” Ellie chuckled. “I never really had any practice, unless it’s in a summer break.”

“That’s nice.” You nodded thoughtfully.

“You really like collecting such antique things, huh?” Ellie picked up a small bunny ceramic.

“It’s like a small hobby I’d like to do from time to time. It’s really fun going to different antique or thrift stores trying to find something you’d like. And besides, I really like older things because of their intricate designs and very pretty artworks.” You explained. “Look, all of those artworks on my wall are all thrifted, even its frames.” You pointed.

Throughout the night, you two did study. You helped Ellie with understanding all the topics that she was struggling. You were surprised with how quickly she can memorize everything, leading you down to the conclusion that Ellie is smart, she’s just lazy.

The two of you would take breaks in between as Ellie insisted because she can’t focus if they’re going to study for hours with no breaks. You obliged. Ellie then would ask you different things about your room, asking what you’d like the most in it, and you would explain and show her those things. Ellie asked you more about yourself, wanting to get some information while at it as her mind starts plotting what you love, and where she can take you out for a date.

You were talking about the things you love, and there was that spark in your eyes that Ellie couldn’t look away from. You were so immersed in telling her something, and Ellie got lost by looking at your face.

Time passed and the two of you didn’t seem to notice. It’s like the two of you are in your bubble that no one could even interrupt. Not even the storm, or the loud buzzing of Ellie’s phone because of her friends asking where she went. Tonight, it’s just you and her.

“I’m nervous about the quiz,” Ellie says as the two of you are walking through the hallways.

“I’m sure you’ll do great.” You looked at her and gave a warm smile.

“I don’t know what’s with that subject, but I always fail every quiz in that class. It’s like someone has put a curse on me or something.”

“Mrs. Garcia is a great teacher, but yes, I do get that her voice is so calm which is why many students are too sleepy to pay attention to her.”

Ellie chuckled. “Yeah, the only thing that I can see in her class was her boobs whenever she bows down to get something on her bag on the floor. It’s fucking distracting.”

You laughed, harder than Ellie thought you would’ve, making her look at you with an amused smile. “Fuck yeah. I thought I wasn’t the only one who noticed.”

Ellie stared at you for a moment, she started questioning Alex in her mind saying that you are straight and making her think that there isn’t even the slightest bit in your body that is gay. Your reaction to what she said makes her think about your sexuality, Ellie wants to ask, but she doesn’t want to overstep her boundaries.

Ellie shook her head, wanting to keep her thoughts at bay. Instead, she changed the topic. “We have a football practice at 3:00 PM and I was wondering if you want to watch it…?” She looked at you with a sheepish smile.

“Were the girls watching you play weren’t enough?” You joked.

“There aren’t. Wait, you really think that I’m a playgirl?”

“Aren’t you?” You asked back with a small frown on your face. “I don’t think that you’re a playgirl, I know you are. Everyone does. I mean, my friend doesn’t even know why you’re talking to me in the first place.” You shrugged before looking away.

Ellie was staring at you really hard, wanting you to look at her but you wouldn’t, so she sighed dejectedly. She stopped in her tracks and held your arms to also make you stop.

“How can I prove my sincerity to you?”

You bit your lips as your hands gripped the strap of your bag tightly. You shrugged, avoiding her gaze. “You don’t have to prove anything to me, Ellie. We’re not friends or anything more.”

“What if I want you to be?”

Your gaze fell on hers with a shocked look on your face. “What?”

“I want to be your friend, Y/n.”

You stared at her for a moment, weighing your feelings. You were used to people coming up to you and asking to be their friend. After all, everyone finds you nice and adorable. You loved friendly interactions, and never once have been doubting someone’s intentions. However, there is a huge factor when Ellie is the one who’s doing it — yes, Nora is right. Her lifestyle is much different than yours, and Ellie Williams’ reputation is not quite good. Everything about you two wouldn’t even intersect, and this is all new. Everything about here seems… artificial.

But then again, you took a look in her face, and gosh… how can you resist that?

So, you slowly nodded. Mumbling a small ‘fine’ under your breath is something that almost made Ellie want to jump in joy.

It’s playtime.

taglist: @liasxeatt @darkerstarsstuff @amberputh @bready101 @teawithnosugar @elliesaturnsoftdrink @elliewilliamgfooc

#ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader angst #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader

590 notes · View notes

imperatorrrrr · 1 month

Text

new article/q&a about Nico Hischier just dropped.

best tidbits below:

Q: What moment in your life would you like to experience again? A: The moment when I stepped onto the ice before my first NHL game.

Q: Common misconception about hockey players? A: That goalies are a bit crazy for standing in goal and letting pucks get shot at them.

Q: Which sports star's training would you like to follow? A: I would be interested to know how Roger Federer trains.

Q: What title would you give your biography? A: From Little Valais to Big New York

Q: Last time you cried? A: After the World Cup final there were emotional moments and some tears were shed. I had never played in a final before, now I know what it feels like. And when you lose, the motivation for the next time is even greater so that you don't experience that feeling again.

Q: What didn't you eat as a child that you like to eat now? A: Onions! As a child I hated them, my mother was not allowed to cook anything with onions. And today I love them.

Q: Most emotional locker room moment? A: Difficult, because there were a few. Emotionally, it's not easy when players are traded during the season or coaches who have been with the club for a long time have to leave. These are not pleasant conversations as a team. In contrast, the moment when the playoffs are clinched, for example, is very special. That's why there is no one moment; in the locker room it's a rollercoaster of emotions.

Q: What advice do you give to young players who dream of the NHL? A: Don't be afraid to make mistakes, because you learn from them. Go your own way, have fun in training and in games.

Q: Are you afraid of getting older? A: No, I try to have the attitude of looking forward to what is still to come.

Q: Four weeks in a monastery or in prison – what would you choose? A: To the monastery, of course

Q: What could you never be persuaded to do? A: A dance competition

Q: What household chore do you put off the longest? A: Vacuuming

Q: What prank have your teammates played on you? A: In the locker room, your helmet is always on the top shelf. They put a cup of water underneath it. If you take your helmet off the shelf, you pour the water on your face. I found out a few years ago that this is a popular joke.

Q: When can you laugh at yourself? A: When I’m in a good mood I can always laugh at myself

Q: What are women better at than men? A: Oh, in many things. They are better at coordinating things, they can absorb a lot of information better and faster. Luckily there are women.

#Nico Hischier #New Jersey Devils #NJ Devils #Devils #NJD #if anyone wants access to the article just DM me #its been archived so you don't need to pay #love that Nico loves onions now #also his answer is literally just that one meme #WOMEN #his biography title!!!!#buddy YOURE IN NEW JERSEY THO #but Ill allow it #vacuuming secretly messy Nico headcanon continues to grow #tbt Bratter saying he had to wash Nico's dishes for him #I didnt include all the questions FYI

335 notes · View notes

magics-neptunes-things · 17 days

Text

Shinning Like the Sun

Hi guys!

I have the new chant for Mariona in my head since yesterday, so this is my way to try to get ride of it 😂

It's kind of short and only fluff, I hope you'll enjoy it :)

Also if someone can tell me who make those gif, I try to find it back on Tumblr but I wasn't able to 😭

You smile while watching your girlfriend, walking behind her for twenty meters. You both just won your second game with Arsenal for the Champions League, and you feel like Mariona is literally glowing.

She’s walking with Vic, Vivienne Lia and Laia, all happily japing around. You know that she might be a little disappointed not to have scored today either, but she seems so happy right now that your heart clench with love for her.

Her move in north London had surprise a lot of people, she passed ten years of her life in Barcelona, in the same club. She was a very important player for the club, but she still chooses to come in Arsenal. You won’t complain about it, having your girlfriend after two years of being apart is something you really enjoy.

You both had a long discussion before her move, you wanted to be sure that she’s making this for the good reasons, not only for you. You were scared, you still are, that she realizes at one point how it was better when you just have the happily reunions and fun and sweet holidays together.

It seems to be perfect for now, but you are living apart of each other, even if you have to admit that the night you slept separately weren’t majority. Far from it to be honest.

It’s for the same reasons that you stay away from her for now, letting her enjoy her moment with the people who seems to become easily friends with her. You aren’t surprised, Mariona is sweet, kind, funny and always smiling. You feel like she took Barcelona’s sun with her.

“Staying away from the missus?”

You turn in the direction of the voice, smiling softly when you see Katie and Caitlin walking next to you. You shrug softly, you know it’s only a friendly teasing. They both tried to hide their relationship last year, before giving up and living their life like they wanted. It seems to be a pretty great idea, considering how happy they are.

“I just want to let her live her moment; you know?”

They both smile for any answer, and you look in Mario’s direction again. She’s now laughing with Alessia about something, probably the song Arsenal’s fan cooked for her. It probably will stay in your head for days, but you like it for now.

You walk around the pitch with Alessia and Kyra, before joining the rest of the team to hear a quick speech from Jonas. Leah smiles at you and pinch your ribs, like she always did when you played together and played well. It was the case today, you are pretty happy about your performance tonight.

When Jonas release all of you, Gooners are waiting for pictures and signatures, which you do happily. There are more people than when you began to play, but you like make people and kids happy. It’s only several minutes of your time and you enjoy it almost every time. You manage to spot the creeps pretty easily.

You gave your jersey to a little girl with cute blue eyes and a big smile, and you are in a black sport bra when you finally went to the locker room to take a shower and change. You spot Mariona not far from you, making her way probably in the same place and run to catch her.

When you are behind her, you pass your arms around her waist, tiptoeing to be able to kiss her cheek from behind. Her smile is beaming, and you are smiling too.

“Shake it Caldentey” you sing-tease her, your cheek against hers, your front against her back.

She laughs and manages to escape your arms, only to take her coat off. The weather isn’t awful tonight but it’s still way colder than Barcelona, so you aren’t surprised to see Mario wearing one of them. You didn’t expect her to put it on your shoulders, though.

“Aren’t you cold?” you ask, tightening the number 8’s coat around your body.

“A little, but you are the one half-naked here”

You hum and offer her one arm for her to side-cuddle while walking inside the tunnel going to the locker room. She doesn’t hesitate to go against you, and you went to kiss her cheek but sloppily went for somewhere behind her jaw and her neck. For your defense, you both were walking.

The Spaniard doesn’t seem to mind though, passing her arm around your waist for the last meters separating you from the locker room. You can hear the laughs and the music coming from it already.

You let Mariona go with a hint of regret when you are inside it, but you are soon taken by Kyra to dance around the room. Steph manages to save you from her after several minutes, letting you go take a shower. When you finish to prepare yourself, Mariona comes to sit on your cubby, quietly waiting for you.

“Are you both coming to have a drink?” Kyra asks you, suddenly popping next to you again.

“Oh” you say, glancing at Mariona.

To be honest, you would rather go somewhere with your girlfriend only. Maybe ordering something and relax in front of a movie. But maybe Mariona wants to go out with your teammates, you don’t want to deprive her of a good night.

You silently look at each other for several seconds, you trying to read into your girlfriend’s warm eyes.

“I… think… that we will go home” you answer slowly, still looking at Mariona.

The forward smiles at you and nod discreetly, filling you with relief when you understand that you have managed to correctly decipher her thoughts and wants.

“Ok Oldies, like you want”

You shush Kyra away with a foot on her ass, turning in Mario’s direction. She’s smiling again and you sometimes wonder how she never gets to hurt her cheeks. She stands up when you put your last things in your bag and grabs your hand when you leave, saying goodbye to everyone.

Leah and Beth keep you company until you reach your car, sharing a small talk with you. The night has fall for several hours now and the streetlights are on when you drive to leave the stadium.

“Yours or mine?” you ask her.

“Yours” she doesn’t hesitate. “Can I put some music?”

“Of course.”

You smile and roll your eyes when she puts some Spanish music on your Spotify. Since you know her, your algorithm doesn’t have any sense, but you like it. It was always nice to have a reminder of your girlfriend when you were driving around and she still lived in Barcelona.

To win some time, Mario looks for what you want to eat when you will be home. You let her choose and she’s still smiling when she passes your command. When you finally reach your house, you sigh of complacency before getting out of the car. You are living in St-Albans, like a lot of your teammates, in a semi-detached house with a garden.

You abandon your bag with your dirty clothes in the bathroom, choosing to make the laundry tomorrow. Mariona’s bag is waiting next to yours.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have taken a flat finally” Mariona comments with a grin from your couch.

You smile too, sitting next to her before cuddling against her. Her body is always warm and welcoming for you and you love it. You usually are more cold than warm so it’s the perfect contrast for you. You smile when she passes her hand under your hoodie, snuggling even more closer to her. You take advantage of your position to look at her, prodigiously ignoring the movie she had choose.

“You seem happy” you say carefully, not wanting to assume things.

She puts her eyes on you and smile softly before putting some hair behind your ear. Her touch send you shivers. She could have understand your sentence as happy right now, but she seems to catch what you mean easily.

“I am” she smiles. “It was hard to leave Barcelona after all this time, but London has even more to offer than I thought”

“Yeah?”

She nods, still smiling. You are looking deep in her eyes when you open your mouth again.

“So still no regrets?”

“No.”

Her hand stayed on your neck after she touch your hair and she uses it to take softly your face against her, kissing you lovingly. While you expend the kiss, she strokes your jaw with her thumb.

“I told you, I was sure it was what I needed. It’s not a surprise for me to see I was right.”

You smile shyly and kiss her one more time before getting back in your first position, you spread on her body. Unfortunately, this moment doesn’t last because soon the bell of your door is ringing in the house, making you jump.

“El sushi está aquí!”

You smile while looking at your girlfriend almost jumping to the door and gets up to go to your kitchen, to grab some extra soja sauce for the sushis. Salty for you, sweet for Mariona. You grab some things to drink too, finding Mariona on your couch, carefully opening the boxes she had choose. You let her decide, you have almost the same tastes for food. Except for soja sauce, maybe.

“I’ll cook something Spanish for you next time” Mariona says after several minutes.

You like to cook to be honest, but just after the games you don’t have necessarily the courage to do it. It’s easier to just use Uber Eat and chill on your couch while you are waiting for your food.

“I’ll help you” you smile.

Like this, you will be able to cook for her too. You don’t know any Spanish receipt but it’s not really a good excuse, you have a Smartphone, and you know how to read. Maybe you could surprise her with a tortilla or something like that. You really need to extend your knowledge on Spanish cooking.

That’s what you discreetly do when your plates are empty, and you are watching another movie. Mariona is now lying on you, her breathing slow and deep, informing you that she might have fall asleep. But you don’t mind.

Playing with her hair with one hand, you are scrolling in a website dedicated to Spain food and you learn a lot of things. Remembering where exactly your girlfriend comes from, you even search for specialties from Mallorca. You might not be able to find every ingredient of the receipts, but you will try your best to bring her some Spain touch in North London.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso one shot #mariona caldentey x reader #mariona caldentey imagine #mariona caldentey

248 notes · View notes

chimielie · 1 year

Text

what it is

summary: Oikawa x Reader. he makes it out of the friendzone (with some help)

word count: 1.3k

cw: nothing, oikawa in glasses

a/n: i wrote this in under an hour while heavily caffeinated?;!;!4& brain melting

“You’re late,” you say with a grin. Oikawa Tooru pouts at you, his team jacket folded over his arms. He’s already changed out of uniform, you notice; must have exchanged it for a white t-shirt and slacks in the locker room.

“I was swarmed,” he claims as the two of you start to walk together. You roll your eyes and don’t even bother making a jab about his popularity with the girls (and people of all genders, really). At this point, you’ve accepted that deranged fans come with the territory of being friends with the volleyball team captain.

You met Oikawa on the first day of your first year at Aoba Johsai and had been friends ever since. Even though you had no interest in the sport at first, his love for volleyball was infectious. He had even roped you into being the team’s manager. You still weren’t sure how he had pulled that off, but you didn’t mind too much—you’d grown to love the team and the sport too, in your own way.

Despite your closeness, you’d never really understood why he had a fan club, especially as a teenage school athlete. You expected his popularity to grow when (not if) he went professional, but the idea of swooning over some guy you had pre-calculus classes with was totally foreign to you. It was a running joke among your friends that you were immune to Oikawa’s looks and charming magnetism (and, honestly, to all four of the team’s upperclassmen. You could acknowledge how objectively attractive they all were even though none of them seemed to fit your niche).

Sometimes, you caught Oikawa making strange expressions while your friends teased you about not liking him. It felt like you were the only one who noticed these kinds of things, sometimes. You really liked being able to read him so easily: both of you had saved each other under the contact name “Platonic Soulmate” in your phones.

You chalked up the weird faces to your friend’s first-rate ego, and even though you knew that the notion of one person not being desperately in love with him wouldn’t scratch the surface of his self-esteem, you always found yourself taking his hand surreptitiously or leaning your head on his shoulder when you did see him looking mopey. He always perked up, after that, and all would be sunshine again.

Today, everyone else had bailed on you when you suggested a joint ice-cream-and-study-date before next week’s exams. Iwaizumi had claimed that Oikawa was too loud and always distracted him, so he couldn’t seriously try to study together. Matsukawa had to babysit and refused to bring the brats, as he affectionately called his siblings, to get sweets. Hanamaki had just quirked his eyebrows at you and said, “I don’t feel like third wheeling. Thanks, but no thanks.”

You hadn’t really understood what he meant, but you hadn’t questioned it.

Oikawa had almost begged off to do some solo practice, too, but you’d made a fuss about nearing the end of your high school experience and worrying that you would fall out of touch when volleyball became his whole life (even moreso than it was now!), and he’d caved with an overdramatic sigh and a soft look that told you he wasn’t all that mad about your guilt-tripping.

You’re broken from your thoughts when you reach the ice-cream shop, Oikawa jabbering in your ear about some drama you can’t keep up with.

“And then she told me—ah, I can’t read the menu. You know, they were late refilling my contact prescription this month, so I’ve been carrying around my glasses, I hate it. So unflattering.”

You worry your lip as you stare at the flavor chart, barely listening to him talk.

“I’m sure it’s,” you start, turning to him as he slides the case out of his pocket and puts the frames on his face in a smooth motion. “Um.”

The glasses are not unflattering, you think dumbly, staring at him, your sentence hanging unfinished. The glasses perch on his nose perfectly, making you appreciate, for the first time, the shape of his nose and his cheekbones. Had they always been that sharp? And since when had his eyes been so pretty, reflecting the sunlight in so many shades, framed with long eyelashes that would have made you jealous if you weren’t so—

You reach out and lift the glasses off his face slowly, hoping that the old, familiar features that you’d never felt anything but friendship-friendly feelings towards would return. You can still see it, though: the divot of his Cupid’s bow is appealing, now, his smooth skin glowing to you, his surprised expression fucking adorable. You drop the frames back onto his nose.

Very abruptly, whatever immunity you once had to Oikawa’s looks is demolished in one fell swoop.

“I have to go have a midlife crisis,” you say decisively, and march out of the shop.

“Hey! What—where are you going? You’re not even middle-aged?” Oikawa calls after you, and you try steadfastly to ignore him, but every sense seems to have been awakened to your friend. Your face flushes, and you start walking faster, nearing the pace of a jog even though your limbs are stiff.

You finally pull over in a quieter, slightly more secluded spot between two buildings. You lean against the wall, closing your eyes, trying to remind yourself to take deep breaths.

“Are you okay?” Oikawa says, and you curse his long, athlete legs for having followed you so swiftly. “What’s wrong?”

You open your eyes. He’s still wearing the fucking glasses. Rest in peace, you think to yourself, surely my heart is going to give up soon, at the rate it’s going. Your lips part, but you can’t seem to get the words out. His worried gaze studies you until he finds something—exactly whatever you didn’t want him to see. A slow smile unfurls over his face, and you narrow your eyes. Ugh, how dare his smugness be attractive too, now?

“I should wear the glasses more often, huh?” He says, and you shake your head no frantically.

“Please don’t,” you say. “It’s, like, it doesn’t even matter anymore, anyway, I can’t unsee it now.”

“Unsee what?” He cocks his head, and he’s getting closer, and there’s nowhere to back away from him because you’re up against a wall—

“You’re hot!” You wail. “I saw it and I’m never gonna stop thinking it now, it doesn’t even matter what you wear, I’m doomed! This is the worst thing ever, ‘Kawa, how’m I supposed to go on… I can’t be your friend and a part of your fan club. I don’t think I can even be a part of your fan club ‘cause I don’t just think you’re hot, I think I have a crush on you—oh, my God, I have a c—”

Your increasingly frantic rambling is cut off by Oikawa sealing his lips to yours. The kiss is quick and sweet, and when he pulls away he still looks so, so handsome, and so concerned.

“Please breathe,” he says, and you nod, gaping at him in shock. “I like you too, okay? Please stop having a crisis.

“Okay,” you exhale, bracing your hands on his shoulders. “Okay. I’m still freaking out, though. I think the only way to stop it is to keep kissing me.”

Oikawa heaves a big, overdramatic sigh, and leans in, his glasses bumping your face; giving in to you, just like he always does.

#WAS this inspired by the time i saw my bf in glasses and literally went to my friend’s dorm and screamed for sixteen seconds (he timed it)#well i’m not telling. that’s a secret.#oikawa: i like you #reader (visions of oikawa in that godawful plaid outfit swimming thru their head): i think even that’s hot now. i have to get a lobotomy #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tōru x reader #oikawa fluff #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq!! x reader #haikyuu!! fluff #haikyuu!! x reader fluff #hq x reader fluff #oikawa x reader fluff #hq!! fluff #the word fluff doesnt look real anymore

1K notes · View notes

houseofripley · 8 months

Text

Her Party Girl

Rhea Ripley X Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Rhea has her way with you after you misbehaved at the club.

WARNINGS: 18+, SMUT, Aggressive Language, Slapping, Spanking, Orgasm Denial. Edging, Brief mention of implied Choking, Strap-On, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Mommy Kink, and a teensy bit of fluff as a treat.

WORD COUNT: 3,230 A/N: Just a little something I threw together last night. This is literally my first fic please don't kill me if it's dogshit!!!

Everyone knew you had a reputation. Headlines seemingly popped up nearly every week about what sort of trouble you got caught up in the night before. You didn’t care about whatever the news said, they didn’t matter to you. You had convinced yourself Rhea didn’t care either, she hadn’t brought it up so you figured you were in the clear.

Rhea began getting fed up with your behavior about a month prior. She was sick of the near-daily drunk calls in the middle of the night while she was away. It killed her not knowing exactly where you were and who you were with. One thing about Rhea is that she is a possessive mother fucker.

Rhea came to the conclusion she needed to keep her eye on you as much as possible to calm her worries. She was currently on a WWE Live tour and had you flown into the city she was in.

For weeks Rhea kept you under a lock and key but recently she had been more lenient. She didn’t care for the bars and party scene but the constant begging got to her, she had to give in at some point.

The two of you made a deal, you were allowed to party only if Rhea was with you and only if she could have her way with you right after.

Tonight Rhea had just lost a match with Becky, and she was fuming. As soon as she left the ring she bolted backstage shoving past fellow wrestlers and crew to get to her tiny locker room. You were there waiting for her but as soon as you saw Rhea slam the door open you knew something was wrong.

“Jesus Christ, Rhea baby, what's wrong?” You questioned as you stood up from the couch, examining the woman's demeanor.

“She fucking pinned me!” Rhea shouted at you. You knew not to touch her when she was pissed but you couldn’t help yourself. You draped your arms over Rhea’s neck as you told her “Hey hey it's okay…it’s not a serious deal, it’s just one little show. I need you to calm down baby.”

“Rhea Ripley doesn’t fucking lose, especially not to goddamn Becky Lynch!” Rhea yelled at you while grabbing both of your arms with a painful grip. You knew she couldn’t help it… she was naturally aggressive. Ignoring the pain she was causing you, you sat her down on the couch and removed your arms from her neck. Rhea slowly let go of the hold she had on your arm.

You let Rhea compose herself before handing her the pile of her streetwear. Rhea slipped into her jeans and threw on an unbuttoned tee over her sports bra before slouching back into the couch.

“How about we go out and take all that stress off your shoulders,” You offered whilst packing up Rhea’s bags.

Of course, you wanted Rhea to let loose by getting a few drinks in her but you selfishly needed an excuse to go get plastered.

“Absolutely not. I’m not dealing with that nonsense tonight.” She scorned as you found your way onto her lap. “I got all dolled up for you, are you really gonna make me sit in a hotel room all night?.” You pouted in return.

“I said no.” Rhea sternly raised her voice at you. She gave you a toughened stare trying to pick apart your thoughts.

You figured out Rhea’s kryptonite, one simple word. Over the past several months of your relationship, you took note of Rhea’s behavior shift after using one particular word. Tonight you wanted to abuse the hell out of that word.

“Oh, but Mami I know you’ll have so much fun…” You whined in her ear, her hands gripping at your sides the moment you let that word out of your mouth.

Rhea shot a look at you, letting out a heavy breath. She had caved and you knew it. “I guess I can make some time for you baby…tonight only.” Rhea hummed out. She was pissed about going out…but that damn word…it did things to her. You pecked her lips innocently knowing you got exactly what you wanted.

After the two of you dropped Rhea’s bag off at the hotel you dragged her to a nearby club down the street. You had wasted no time ordering a shot of tequila as well as Rhea’s go-to, a neat whiskey. You ushered Rhea to a small booth right near the dance floor. Rhea kept quiet and stayed in her seat trying to enjoy her whiskey while you made multiple trips to the bar ordering an array of drinks over the span of forty minutes.

You pulled out your phone, snapping a picture of Rhea as she examined the club around her. “Oh c’mon,” She grouched. “You look like you want to kill everyone in here, it's a little sexy,” You joked before adding “I’ll be right back.”

“Alright that’s enough you don’t need anymore.” She snapped at you as you came back to the table with two shots of vodka. You pouted as you handed her one of the shots “Are you gonna come dance with me Mr. Grumpy Pants?” Rhea shot you a glare and shook her head as she shooed you away. “Your loss, Mami.” You teased before downing your shot and walking out to the dance floor.

You knew Rhea was eye fucking you while you were out dancing so you made sure to put on a show for her. You “accidentally” lifted your skirt to show the bottom half of your ass knowing no matter how pissed the woman acted she was going insane for you.

Just several minutes later a man approached you asking if you’d like to take a shot with him and his buddies. You knew Rhea would put you through hell if she saw you drinking anymore but she was occupied closing your tab. It was a free shot of course you had to take it. You went up to the end of the bar and had one last shot. But the second your shot glass hit the table you knew you had fucked up.

Rhea was storming towards you looking more furious than ever. She stole your hand and started dragging you out of the club, making sure to shove her shoulder into the guy who had offered you a drink. “Oh c’mon! You expect me to say no to a free drink?! I was saving you money!! ” You blurted out once you got to the street. You were practically running as you tried to keep up with the woman as she led you back to your hotel without saying one word.

The second the door to your room had latched, Rhea drove you against the nearest wall leaving virtually no space between the two of you. “You think you're so cute whoring yourself out for drinks from strangers don't you?” She snarled inches from your lips. You kept your mouth shut as you dozed off staring into Rhea’s deep blue eyes.

“Answer me you fucking slut.” She demanded as she delivered a slap across your left cheek. In return, you just smirked making sure to not make a sound. That smile of yours drove Rhea insane, she lost all control as she shoved her lips onto yours whilst backing you up to the edge of the bed.

Rhea had shoved you down onto the bed before immediately connecting your lips again. You matched every sloppy movement the buff woman made. “I’m gonna ruin you whether you like it or not you little brat.” She whispered, trailing her lips down to your neck. Her lips attacked your neck as she left multiple bites causing you to let out a series of whines.

While Rhea spent her sweet time focusing on your neck her hands found themselves tugging off your shirt and discarding it on the floor. Once she had discovered you weren't wearing a bra she pulled away. “What a slut…couldn’t even cover yourself up this morning.” She commented as she admired your top half.

Rhea lowered herself to your chest, licking right across your nipple as a moan escaped your mouth. She knew she was driving you insane as she lapped her tongue in circles around your nipples. As you squirmed underneath her touch she managed to yank your skirt off.

A whiny moan left your mouth once Rhea’s thumb began making circles over your clit, the fabric of your flooded panties adding even more pleasure. “So soaked for me already hm, you’ve been wanting Mami all night haven’t you,” Rhea snarled, leaving you speechless. You knew you were in deep shit and you were paying for the actions that happened just twenty-five minutes ago.

As soon as Rhea knew she had you folding under her touch she pulled away. She stood up between your legs as she tore off her unbuttoned shirt. “Too bad naughty girls don’t get to be touched,” Rhea fake pouted. She wasn’t going to touch you until you were begging. She needed to hear your pleading.

Rhea’s full frame stood at the edge of the bed stalking your every move. Your right hand snaked down your stomach before being swatted away by Rhea. A whimpered “Please” broke your silent streak. Rhea bent over your face, her warm breaths melting your skin “Oh baby I’m nowhere even near started and I already have you so worked up. Poor thing…it’s gonna take a lot more than a pathetic please before I touch you.” She whispered before standing upright again.

“Please! I need you to touch me!” You crashed out. Rhea gave you a look of pity mixed with anger, you knew she wanted more. “I’ll be such a good girl for you!! I just need your touch!” You earned a simple smirk from Rhea.

“Mami!” You cried out in frustration. There it was, exactly what she was looking for. “I’ll do anything Mami! Please!!! Touch me Mami!” You whined.

The grin on Rhea’s face grew larger. “Mmm what a naughty girl you are.” Rhea huffed out

“Now tell me what you want from Mami,” She said, kneeling down right in front of your core that was near the edge of the bed. “Your mouth Mami!” You begged.

Rhea looked up at you as she planted a kiss on your clothed clit. “You want Mami’s mouth right here don’t you?” She teased, causing you to let out a pathetic whimper. “Right there!” You cried before Rhea pulled your panties off in a swift motion causing you to let out a gasp at the sensation of the cold air against your wetness.

Rhea needed to taste you as much as you needed her tongue in between your folds. But Rhea wasn’t done teasing you, not yet. She enjoyed hearing your whimpers as she kissed and licked stripes over your inner thighs. “Please Mami, I need your mouth. I’ll be such a good girl for you!” You pleaded as she drove you insane.

“Pathetic little girl.” Rhea taunted under her breath before finally diving her tongue between your folds. She kept her eyes looking up at you, she loved seeing how much she satisfied you.

Rhea’s tongue slipped right into your entrance as her nose rested on your clit. All you could spit out were yelps and moans. Rhea had gone back to tracking her tongue up and down your center.

She slipped her middle finger into you causing you to let out a string of moans. Once you had gotten a feel for her finger, Rhea knew you would want more and that's exactly why she pulled her finger out. You cried out her name begging to be touched again.

She hadn't forgotten the little stunt you pulled earlier and she wasn't gonna let you forget either. She pulled herself up off the floor and hovered her face over yours, placing her clothed leg right against your core. “I need you,” You cried out. “You were being such a naughty girl earlier. Mami thinks you need to be punished for that.” She menacingly said before flipping you onto your stomach.

You pushed your ass up in the air knowing exactly what you were in for. Rhea delivered a slap to your ass just before you sharply gasped. You heard the sound of Rhea’s belt being slipped out of her jeans. “No no no!!! Mami please no! It won’t happen again I swear!!” You wailed.

The woman just ignored you as she slashed her belt down on your soft skin causing you to scream out. “Count.” She demanded. Rhea made you count all ten lashings she gave you. She had you braindead between each lashing she gave you.

“Such a good girl for Mami, now let me see your pretty little pussy.” Rhea declared while flipping you over and spreading your legs. The large woman kneeled back down before attacking your clit with her tongue, sending shock waves through your spine.

You covered your mouth to quiet the moans coming from you as she devoured you. Rhea slipped two of her fingers into you while using her other hand to pull your hand away from your mouth. “I want this whole floor to hear how good I’m treating you baby.” She hummed against your clit whilst curling her fingers inside you.

Rhea knew all of your weak spots and she made sure they didn't go unnoticed. As her tongue piercing rocked over your clit back and forth you were about to come undone. “Mami I’m gonna cum!” You howled before Rhea growled out, “No you’re not angel, you’re gonna be a good girl and wait until you get permission.” Rhea slipped her fingers out of your hole as she stood up.

“Please Mami I need you, you make me feel so go-” You were interrupted by Rhea's lips crashing onto yours as her fingers found their way back into you. You took a hold of her midnight hair tugging at her roots, in return Rhea let out muffled groans into your mouth. It drove her crazy whenever you pulled on her hair, she would never admit it but it was obvious by her responses.

Rhea felt your walls tighten around her curling her two fingers, she pulled her thumb up to your clit beginning to drag circles around your bud. You were a drunk mess under her, your breath getting heavier.

As you were nearly unable to control your orgasm you were hit with that same feeling of defeat you felt moments ago as Rhea had yet again pulled away from your touch. All you could was cry out praying for her to touch you again. You knew you pissed her off but this was borderline tortuous.

“You poor thing,” Rhea fake pouted, chuckling as she walked towards your suitcase. Rhea knew you would bring her strap, she shoved her way around your suitcase for a moment before pulling it out. Rhea made her way towards you before removing her jeans and boyshorts.

You bucked your hips up into the air watching her put her strap on. “So needy,” She smirked, “You want to cum all over my cock don’t you baby…”

“I need to cum on your cock!! Mami please let me cum on your cock!” You pleaded.

Rhea just had to tease you one last time as she repeatedly put her tip in, pulling it out right after.

Once the buff woman was satisfied with your series of cries and whimpers she slowly filled you up. You let out a string of moans and cusses as Rhea took a firm grip of your thighs and began thrusting slowly. “Mhm-taking Mami’s cock so good baby.” She hummed, taking in your view.

As you started rocking your hips against her thrusts she began to pick up her speed. Rhea knew you liked it when she fucked you hard but she would always make sure you were fully ready for her cock. Your moans and Rhea’s coos echoed in the bare hotel room.

She took hold of your hips as she was thrusting to a speed the both of you clearly went crazy for. Rhea’s main focus was always pleasuring you but tonight the pressure Rhea felt on her core with every thrust was sending her over the edge. She wanted to cum with you.

“Mami,” You whimpered, rocking your hips up and down as her hands trailed around your neck and chest.

“Shhhh…soon baby.” She reassured, lowering her chest to yours, you tugged at her sports bra signaling you wanted her to remove it.

Rhea threw her bra across the room as her thrusts were becoming faster and more sloppy. The two of you were a moaning and groaning mess.

Rhea wrapped her hand around the base of your throat. Hovering over you she muffled out “Now are you gonna be a good girl for me from now on.” Her words were more of a demand rather than a question and you knew if you didn’t answer you wouldn’t be able to cum for the next month.

“Oh fuck! I’m gonna be such a good girl for you!” You squealed out moaning. “Please Please Please Mami!” You begged once again.. You both couldn’t hang on much longer as each thrust grew sloppier.

“Go ahead baby, I want you to cum all over Mami’s cock.” Rhea urged you to finally let go.

The two of you slurred out profanities as the both of you let go of all your built up tension. Sloppy kisses were exchanged as the both of you rode out your orgasms. ”Such a pretty girl,” Rhea whispered right in your ear sending shivers down your spine.

A final wail left our mouth as Rhea pulled out of you. Rhea swiped her finger across the strap stealing a sample of your cum before licking her finger clean. She helped you sit up at the edge of the bed before getting another pile of your sweetness on the pad of her thumb.

“Open up sweet girl” She requested, you obeyed opening your mouth before sucking Rhea's finger clean. Rhea stood over you as she licked her teeth. “God baby you’re making me want to fuck you all over again.” She teased leaving you giggling. Rhea got a warm rag and began carefully cleaning you up then began cleaning herself up.

Rhea plopped herself onto the bed pulling you to lay on her chest. Your aftercare was one of the most important things to Rhea, she knew she was rough on you so she always made time to hold you close to her never wanting you to feel like just a toy for her. The two of you silently admiring each other's faces from inches away, admiring the intricacies of eyes, combing fingers through hair, tracing invisible shapes on arms. Little kisses were littered across each other's faces. It was just the two of you, no clothes, no music, no distractions, maybe some smeared makeup but hey you can’t deny how attractive her in-ring makeup was all smeared.

“You’re gonna be so hungover in the morning,” Rhea broke the silence with her sly comment. “And you’re gonna be the one taking care of me so I guess I’m the winner here!” You nudged her arm leaving her sarcastically rolling her eyes.

The both of you fell back into your comfortable silence. You could stay in her arms forever. No matter what wringer she put you through she was your home.

#rhea ripley smut #rhea ripley fanfic #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley oneshot #wwe x reader #rhea ripley x you #rhea ripley angst #rhea ripley imagine #wwe smut #rhea ripley fluff

406 notes · View notes

fspamerica · 8 months

Text

High-Quality Sports Club Lockers with Safety

FSP America® is a leading manufacturer and supplier of high-quality Sports Club Lockers. Our lockers are built using state-of-the-art manufacturing processes and are available in various colours, materials, and sizes. Our lockers are perfect for sports clubs, schools, and gyms. We use only the highest quality materials, ensuring that our products are durable and rust-resistant. Our Sports Club Lockers are designed to meet the needs of players and management alike, ensuring they are suitable for storing equipment and clothing.

#sports club lockers

0 notes

mysumeow · 3 months

Text

. . . ꒰ POST-MATCH

Warnings: afab body and breasts, reader is mentioned to wear panties, PIV unprotected sex, pwp (the plot is that leona breeds you 🙄 is that not enough plot? /j), against the wall, semi-public sex?

Word count: 800

A/N: This was fueled by this fanart and the club wear card of course. My humble offering to the fandom🛐

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ 🌷 . . MASTERLIST

There are a few things in life that drive Leona out of his typical indolent demeanor. Amongst those things was spelldrive. In hand with this sport was the high after a successful match, the rush thrumming through his veins not calming down yet.

You don’t know when Leona noticed you were amongst the crowd cheering for his team, but after rubbing in the opposing team face's the win, his eyes found yours.

And next thing you knew, Leona sneaked you into a locker room, cornered you to the most hidden wall, pushed you against it, and the famished lion feasted upon you.

The high from the tournament’s success was far from over, given the hungry way Leona fucked you. With an intensity and vitality that you would never imagine the lethargic lionkin capable of.

Yes, the Leona you often discovered sleeping in the botanical garden, the one who would sneak a nap during classes, the so-called lazy housewarden of Savanaclaw...One should get the gist.

Straightforward—that was more like Leona’s style. There was no shortage of words, as you understood his desires from the beginning. Besides, acting like seeing his skin glow from the sweat running down his neck and cheeks didn’t affect you in any way would be a blatant lie on your part.

“Didn’t expect you to be this eager,” Leona’s hot breath tickled your ear, restless fingers having no mercy whatsoever as he rubbed your clit. “All I did was touch you a bit, and you managed to swallow all this in one go.” He pulled away in a languid pace to make sure you felt the hefty drag of his dick inside of you before he snapped his lower half into you with a loud smack.

You’d try to refute him; the mere thought of him smiling smugly provoked you. To your dismay, however, he occupied his other hand with stuffing your mouth with his fingers to keep your tongue in place as you moaned around them.

Despite his confident exterior, the lion man himself believed to be intoxicated by you. He can’t recall a moment he has ever felt this amount of pleasure before, the snug and wet feeling of your pussy around him. His eyebrows knit together, canine teeth teasing your shoulder and threatening to bite down from the hazy delight.

Leona's ear flicked at the distant sound of footsteps approaching.

“You hear that? Someone’s outside. Do your best to not moan too loud, unless you want them to hear?” He taunted you, the idea of stopping to wait for them to leave not even crossing his mind.

Thanks to Leona’s lion-like attributes, he was able to pick up on the sound of footsteps before you did. They came from the outside, and thus, he didn’t deem it necessary to stop. However, whoever was on the other side of the wall would hear everything if you moaned louder.

Regardless of the slow movement of his thrusts, his fingers toyed with your nub in a near cruel manner. In fact, it was lecherous how drenched you were, his digits coated in your arousal and easy to stroke them against it. When Leona dragged you in here, there was a lusty daze clouding his mind, where he barely bothered to pull your panties down, left forgotten halfway in its path down your legs. The poor fabric stretched to its limits, digging into your skin.

You didn’t realize it then, but you’d found his urgency to have you right there and in that moment undeniably hot.

You gasped his name (albeit with not much success because his fingers were still in your mouth) the moment he sped up without warning, your body close to collapsing if not for his firm grip and the wall you leaned against.

The people who were outside were talking about the spelldrive match, complaining that the team that won played dirty and that was the reason for their success. When your gasp slipped without you meaning to, they fell in silence for a good second before picking up the conversation where they left off.

You reached behind you to pat Leona on his side in an attempt to send him the message to slow down, your resolve to stay quiet near to its end. You felt his chest, which was pressed against your back, move with a chuckle—he found your predicament amusing. He didn’t slow down, but his fingers left your mouth, and now you could bite your lip to quiet yourself. You looked down; your sight drifted to where his sex sloppily met yours, the above vulgar display of your juices mingled with his.

After what felt like forever, it sounded like those people outside were walking away.

You whined under your breath; your climax approached with little hindrance.

Leona manhandled your torso into an upright position again, hand squeezing your chest as he held you in place. At last, that desired orgasm along with his came, dick shoved in and out of your battered cunt.

After a while of his movements slowing down until he was still, Leona groaned when he slipped out of you. Some of his cum dripped down...

“Not bad, herbivore,” His hand smacked your ass, further embarrassing you. “I’m looking forward to seeing you around more when I play.”

You were about to ask him to help you dress again, but he beat to it by crouching down to grab your underwear and helped you by pulling it up again. He released the fabric once it was in its place so the elastic would snap against your hip.

“Hurry up before your friends notice your absence…If they haven’t by now, at least.”

#twisted wonderland smut #twisted wonderland x reader #twst smut

307 notes · View notes

delcakoo · 2 years

Text

behind the net!┊nishimura riki

SYNOPSIS ! expecting a suspension at most after punching your friend’s bully, you found yourself being assigned as the new boys soccer team manager. not only did you know absolutely nothing about sports, but you now had to deal with nishimura riki, the team’s star winger, absolutely hating your guts. you’d never believe someone if they told you you’d soon be enjoying your new role as manager, and dating nishimura riki, all in the same month.

PAIRING ! soccerplayer!nishimura riki x manager!f!reader

WC ! 9.8k

GENRE ! e2l, high school au, fluff, slight angst

WARNINGS ! yn punches someone, you also get punched and knocked out, lmk if there’s more

a/n: hi loves! keep in mind this is my first long lengthed fic, so it may not be perfect. i still had fun with it though, so bare with me as i learn and experiment! i hope you enjoy soccer player niki as he took me lots of time and preparing <3

choi beomgyu talks too much.

you don’t know if you’d consider the puppy-faced boy a friend; the only time you get to see him is near the end of lunch break at his locker which is found right next to yours, yet somehow, he manages to tell you all the gossip around the school in those few minutes of grabbing supplies for next period. today seemed to be no different.

“—i swear i saw them making out in the boy’s bathroom, but you didn’t hear that from me. anyways, did you know that kim jisoo from the grade above us is leaving? i knew her parents were like, having some issues n’ stuff, but apparently..”

sometimes, you just have to tune choi beomgyu out. occasionally, you offer a quick ‘mhm’ or ‘wow’ to ensure him you’re absolutely enthralled by his stories, even though in reality you’d rather be sticking a kazoo up your ear.

“—so yeah, i just feel bad for her. oh,” beomgyu pauses his movements in his locker, strangely focused on something to his right. “looks like chelsea’s messing with byeol again.”

“mhm,” you add absentmindedly, shoving your binder under your arm.

wait, what did choi beomgyu just say?

you snap your head to your locker buddy, frantically walking around him to follow his gaze. “hold on, what?”

byeol has been your best friend since you both met in the school’s photography club. you always had each other’s back, it was known to everyone that the two of you were close by the way you were almost always found together at breaks. however, you couldn’t always be there for byeol. your friend has been getting harassed by this ‘chelsea’ chick for weeks, all because byeol had submitted a photo to the school newspaper where she was in the background, making a rather unattractive face.

no matter how many times byeol apologized for the mistake, chelsea refused to forgive her for ‘ruining her high status’ around school. petty insults in the halls, taking revenge pictures of her in class, pushing disguised as ‘friendly nudges’,and much more were daily occurrences you had to witness your poor friend go through.

“why can’t you just report her?” you had asked one day.

“because y/n. snitches get stitches, everyone knows that.”

well, it definitely seemed like she was going to be getting stitches, snitching or not. you could barely make out byeol’s chestnut brown hair pressed against a locker, chelsea standing menacingly in front of her. other students were slowly forming an audience around the two, some pulling out their phones and whispering to their friends. you quickly readjusted the books in your arms, speed walking over to the girls.

“oh, bye y/n!” beomgyu calls from somewhere in the background, cluelessly unaware of the fuming expression slowly creeping up your face.

by the time you reach your best friend, chelsea has her nailed to the locker, repeatedly pushing her into it. “seriously, you’re so pathetic!” she barks, “can’t even fight back, god.”

your jaw ticks, throwing your stuff to the ground to make your presence known. when byeol notices you, she gasps, frantically throwing her hands up. “y/n! i-i can explain—“ you gently move her to the side, walking up to chelsea, and before you stop to think about the consequences, throw a solid punch to her chin.

gasps and screams circulate the halls as the students watch you glare down at your classmate who has now fallen to the ground from your jab. chelsea lets out a strangled cry, hiding her face and cradling her slowly bruising chin in her hand. “what the hell, y/n! why would you do that?!” byeol yelps to your emotionless face, shaking your shoulder.

satisfied, you grab byeol’s wrist, dragging her next to you to pick up your stuff. you ignore the many recording phones following your steps, focusing on the floor tiles in front of you. “c’mon bee, we have chemistry.”

byeol nearly trips trying to keep up with your pace, gawking at your side profile in utter shock. “h-hey! don’t call me that cute name after you just punched someone! and not just anyone, y/n. that was kim chelsea, you do know that right you crazy idiot!? you might get suspended!”

you finally let out a sigh, looking at the girl blankly as you continue walking to your class as if nothing happened. “what was i supposed to do, byeol? watch my best friend let herself get walked on like every other day?”

“w-well, she had a reason this time. i forgot to buy her lunch.”

you scoff in disbelief, “nice one.”

“no, seriously, y/n! it’s my way of paying back for that awful picture in th—“

“in the newspaper,” you recite with a roll of your eyes, “from like three weeks ago! jesus, bee. nobody fucking cares anymore but her! she has no right to treat you like dogshit even when you’ve apologized a gazillion times now.”

byeol scratches her head nervously, staring down at her neatly strapped shoes. “was that really three weeks ago? aish,” she huffs.

L/N Y/N, PLEASE REPORT TO THE PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE IMMEDIATELY.

“oh no,” byeol mutters, suddenly reaching over and shaking both of your shoulders aggressively, “y/n you big nincompoop, look what you’ve done! if you get expelled i’m gonna be all alone in this hellhole!”

you giggle slightly, finding yourself a bit too calm even for your standards as you place your own hands on top of hers comfortingly. “don’t worry, i’m a top student, they wouldn’t do that. i’ll probably be back here in like, five minutes okay? there’s no punishment that can bother me.”

add that to the list of famous last words.

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

“i never thought i’d see you here, miss l/n.” the principal sighs, watching you settle down in the chair across from her.

“i’m sorry,” you pause for a moment before correcting yourself, “i’m sorry for disappointing you, mrs. lee.”

the woman raises an eyebrow at that, calmly lacing her ring-attired fingers on her desk. “i see. so you’re not sorry to chelsea, who is currently getting treated by the school nurses?”

“no ma’am. i would never harm anybody without a good reason.” you choose your worlds carefully, as it is not your position to be the one to tattle on chelsea, no matter how much your desires tell you to. a picture of byeol flashes through your head. your poor, naive best friend. you think any punishment would be worth helping her.

the principal seems to catch your memo quickly, nodding in understanding. “i believe you, y/n, and i can trust that you understand what you did was wrong. however, a punch is a punch, and your actions have consequences.”

“i understand too, and i’m ready to take whatever it is,” you reply confidently, nodding to the older woman in anticipation.

at your words, mrs. lee reaches next to her and opens up a yellow portfolio, holding it tightly in her hands. “very well. i decided to hold off on a suspension, as luckily enough, there was something else that desperately required someone responsible, organized, and smart like you, dear.” you curiously raise an eyebrow at that, watching as she opens up the portfolio and slides it across the desk to you. “to atone for your incident with chelsea, you will become the new boys soccer team manager.”

you freeze, unable to comprehend what was just said. you were ready to clean the bathrooms for the next few months, have detention every day for the semester, maybe clean up the mess everyday in the cafeteria. there was no way you just heard what you thought you did. in a last ditch prayer, you swallow. “i-i’m sorry, what was that?“

you swear you see the evil woman’s lips quirk a bit in some kind of amusement. “you will be the new boys soccer team manager for the year. the season starts in only three weeks, and it’d be much too difficult for mr. kwang to run the team without any help.”

did she say the year? “but- but ma’am, i don’t know anything about soccer,” you exclaim desperately, examining the papers inside the portfolio. there were all sorts of criteria and things you’d be agreeing to if you signed the contract, including missing full school days to travel with the team and attend games. just the thought of missing class to watch a bunch of sweaty, teenage boys kick balls around made you sick to your stomach. perhaps punching kim chelsea wasn’t worth it after all (sorry byeol).

“you’ll learn quickly just like you do academically, dear. and anyway, you’ll mainly be doing other things like preparing advertisements for the team, organising games and practise dates, assisting the team members, and helping mr kwang with anything else he needs,” she lists off on her fingers, gesturing to the ballpoint pen in front of you as a reminder to get signing, as you didn’t exactly have another option.

organising games? preparing advertisements? and what did assisting the team members even mean? you didn’t want to know, or even hear the words ‘boys soccer team’ ever again. yet you found yourself picking up the pen, reluctantly scribbling down your now permanently inked signature onto the dreaded contract.

what on earth did you get yourself into?

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

“you’re the new what?!” you quickly cover byeol’s mouth, hiding her lips from the apple juicebox now being choked in her grasp. the students around the cafeteria glance at the two of you suspiciously, especially curious after the whole chelsea affair.

you remove your hand to reach into your daily bag of animal crackers that you never forget to bring to school, munching away with a glare. “geez, we don’t need the whole school learning my dirty secret that fast.”

“dirty? y/n, don’t you get what this means!?” byeol inquires, looking somewhat envious as she sips her juicebox. you give her a strange look, languidly reaching for your water bottle. “for the whole school year, you get to not only watch, but hang out and talk with the hottest boys in the school! punching chelsea is the best thing you’ve ever done!”

you ponder for a moment, contemplating her words with another handful of crackers. “okay, but it’s not just hot guys, bee. i have to organise and attend every one of their dumb little ball games which also means missing whole school days.” byeol doesn’t seem phased by your response before you add the next part. “and, i probably won’t have time for photography club anymore.”

she deflates at that, reaching her hand into your bag to steal a few crackers for herself. “now that does suck. promise you’ll still try to come to some meetings?”

“no promises.”

her face suddenly brightens again comically, wiggling her eyebrows. “oh and, you have to introduce me to park sunghoon. well actually— introduce me to all of them. but especially park sunghoon!”

you sigh, lazily throwing your now empty cracker bag into the garbage, “you’re too good for those out of control jocks, bee.

byeol quirks her eyebrows to you, pushing her hair back. “we’ll see about that when you end up falling for one of those soccer boys. it’s inescapable being with those handsome faces all year.”

“i’m slightly offended that you think this lowly of me.”

your best friend stands up from the cafeteria bench, giving her juicebox one last, dramatic sip. “fine, but when you do fall in love, remember this conversation!”

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

two days after signing your life away to the soccer team would be your first day meeting them. you were to be at the school’s field right after dismissal for practise, 3:15 sharp. your backpack was all ready, prepared with absolutely anything you may need: a water bottle in case mr kwang decides to make you do any sort of physical activity, your animal crackers (obviously), a flashlight since you weren’t exactly sure how late you’d be at practise, your camera to take pictures for photography club, and much more.

this didn’t exactly mean you were ready though. you had absolutely no idea what you were supposed to do, there was no team manager training courses. and not only were you going to be inspected like a piece of meat by a bunch of attractive boys, but you also had to watch them play soccer all afternoon.

with a million thoughts going through your mind, you make your way closer to the soccer field than you’ve ever been in your life, pushing open the black gate surrounding the perimeter. for whatever reason, there were rows and rows of girls in the bleachers watching the boys practise, all giving you angry, disapproving looks as you step onto the field. the grass is fake, you realise, noticing the bits of black tires hidden in the plastic turf. you’re going to love finding those in every crevice of your poor shoes. when you look up, heat rushes to your cheeks as you meet the eyes of practically the entire soccer team on you, probably wondering why on earth some random girl with a backpack bigger than her has just walked onto their home field.

you scan your eyes over the team, finding a few familiar faces. #19 was sim jaehyun, or jake, who was known for being an absolute playboy, yet still managed to pull a new girl each week. he was quite funny though, you could appreciate his jokes even from afar in class.

when #12 turns around, you immediately recognise the handsome profile of park sunghoon. not only did he play soccer, but he was an amazing figure skater, or so you heard. byeol would probably faint at the sight of him now, dripping with sweat despite practise starting only minutes prior.

that’s definitely lee heeseung, you notice his pink hair miles away paired with his #20 jersey. he was amazing at everything, academic wise he was another top student, yet he still somehow made time to be in almost every sports team the school had to offer, also placing as one of the best players. you wouldn’t be surprised if he had a big role on this team as well.

out of the corner of your eye, you notice a pale boy with black, curly hair staring daggers into your side, soccer ball held between his fingers tightly. when you turn your gaze towards him, he stubbornly whips back around. #10, nishimura, his jersey reads.

“ah, right on time as expected, y/n!” at their coaches loud voice, the team gets even more interested, pausing their movements with the balls at their cleats.

“oh no, another chick from the nerd emporium.” you hear park jay mutter with his hands on his hips.

“i don’t mind the journal club girls. they always get flustered so easily, it’s hilarious. and look, at least she’s pretty cute,” jake shrugs back.

you hold in the urge to roll your eyes, grinning as mr. kwang shakes your hand. “it’s nice to finally meet you,” you chirped.

“no, no! the pleasure is all mine. we’re going to have such a fun year together,” he chortles, bringing you right to the middle of the field. the sudden, loud screech of a whistle makes you jump slightly, observing cautiously as the boys run over like a bunch of herded sheep. they messily form in a line, a few of them mischievously bumping each other's shoulders before they notice your presence, slowly looking you up and down. you gulp. one thing byeol was right about was that they were all hot. and very sweaty.

some of the boys offer you little waves, which you softly offer in return. a few of them smile at you or offer a quick nod when your eyes meet, crossing their arms tightly over the school’s purple jerseys. the nishimura boy from earlier though, looks at you with a bored, almost angry frown, finding the turf more interesting than anything you have to offer.

you don’t get a chance to wonder why when mr. kwang suddenly wraps a big arm around your shoulder. “boys, meet the new member of our team!”

it was silent for a moment, the team all exchanging weird looks. “coach, it’s just another journal club article, right?” a shorter boy with bright red hair and cat-like features asks.

“not quite, captain.” at the nickname, you glance at the bright yellow pad on the red haired boy’s arm. it didn’t take a genius to figure out he must be the team’s captain. “this is l/n y/n, our new team manager!”

“what?” nishimura speaks for the first time, his face finally sparking with some emotion, though he didn’t sound too pleased.

“she’s our manager?” jake points to you with an amused giggle.

mr. kwang proudly ruffles your head, promptly destroying your once tidy hairstyle. “you betcha, sim! for the rest of the year too, so get used to her being around. now, i need to get her organised. keep doing those drills!” he blows the whistle around his neck again, watching as all the boys quickly jog back to their positions. though, you can still feel most of their eyes on your back as you walk over to the bench with their coach.

“so, y/n. i know you don’t exactly want to be here.” when he sees you try to speak up in defense, he raises a hand. “it’s okay, my feelings aren’t hurt.” you both laugh, sitting and watching the boys train around the field. “it’s just, i think you might find yourself enjoying this job if you really give them a try.”

you rest your face on your hand, giving his words a thought. “maybe. it’s just, this is all a bit overwhelming, y’know?”

mr kwang pats your shoulder, “of course it is, and that’s okay. but i’m sure with a few weeks, you’ll get the hang of things and find yourself enjoying it out here on the field! just give the team a chance and make the best out of your new family, okay?” you offer a small nod, watching as he pulls a white whistle and a clipboard out of his duffel bag. “consider this my welcome gift to you,” he announces proudly, offering the items to you.

you quickly take them, looking at the man in surprise. “oh, thank you sir! what’s the whistle for?”

“anytime you need to get their attention, of course,” mr kwang winks, gesturing to the boys. “it’s pretty fun watching them run over to you like a bunch of dogs playing fetch, you’ll see for yourself shortly.” suddenly, he gets up, seemingly remembering something important. “oh, and come with me, dear!”

you swiftly get up to follow him into what seems to be the team’s locker room, throwing your new whistle around your neck in the process. it’s not very tidy; random pairs of knee pads and socks are scattered around the room carelessly, and multiple shorts and jerseys almost make a trail leading all the way to the showers nearby. not to mention it reeked of sweat, and well, teenage boys. mr. kwang quickly notices the disgusted crinkles on your face, laughing out an apology on behalf of the mess.

though your expression quickly turns to one of shock when he continues past the locker rooms and through the hall that leads to two black doors. one reading ‘coach kwang’ and the other reading ‘manager’. the inside was just as surprising, gasping as he ushers you into a neatly organised office with multiple, tidy shelves and a big desk. “what the- is this for me?” you mutter in denial, gripping your clipboard tighter.

mr. kwang smiles, offering you a key attached to a purple lanyard. “yes of course! there is going to be quite a lot of work when it comes to organising the team’s events and advertising games, so this is just a private space that can always be available if needed.”

“thank you so much, i’ll use it well!” you bow gratefully. wait until byeol hears about all this, she’s definitely going to want to see for herself.

after mr kwang led you around the rest of the building and fed you helpful advice along the way, the both of you ended up back outside where the boys seemed to be having a water break.

“there they are!” a cute blonde haired boy you recall as sunoo sings, making the rest of the team’s heads turn to see you.

heeseung is the first to walk up to you, offering his sweaty hand out politely. “it’s nice to meet you, manager,” he says smugly, smirking down at you.

you offer him a challenging tilt of your head, shaking his hand firmly. “you too, lee heeseung.” you do your best to keep up a cool exterior, even though you’re slightly freaking out on the inside from all the attention. this was completely different to the feeling of all the eyes after punching chelsea; it felt more like you were being inspected piece by piece, especially by the nishimura boy, who’s sitting cross legged on the ground with his waterbottle. you’re yet to find out his first name, but you had a feeling he had no interest in telling you by the icy glare he throws your way.

what on earth have you ever done to him? you don’t think you even have a single class with the boy, not to mention speaking to him.

“manager,” sim jake calls out your new nickname cockily, pushing his hair back. “out of all of us, who’s the most attractive?”

out of pure instinct, your eyes travel to nishimura for a split second, quickly looking back to jake. damn it, y/n! what was that? out of all the boys, you choose the one that hates you? it was already too late, as the rest of the boys immediately followed your split second glance to their teammate. “niki? seriously manager, i’m way better looking than him,” sunghoon remarks disapprovingly.

you hurriedly raise your hands in defense, “wh-what? i never said i chose him!”

nishimura — or niki — seems almost repulsed by the discussion at hand, still refusing to even look at you as he gives his teammates a disgusted look.

“cute,” jay laughs along with a few others at the growing blush on your cheeks, sipping his water.

suddenly, the red headed captain lets out a sigh, reaching over to pat your shoulder. “you idiots are scaring her, shut up.” he suddenly leans closer to you, warm breath fanning your ear. “welcome to the team. i’m the captain, yang jungwon. i hope we can be friends.” he smirks slightly at the redness of your face before backing up again, and it makes you question if he really feels sympathy for you.

honestly, what was even happening anymore? were you in a drama? a romance webtoon? you originally insisted you were never one to fall for such charms, yet here you were, a flustered mess over a few pretty faces. “uh-“ you gulp, “it’s nice to meet you too— all of you. i’ll do my best to help the team.”

“how’d you become our manager anyway?” heeseung questions, a few of the boys nodding in agreement. at this, niki’s head raises in interest for the first time, awaiting your response carefully.

you swallow nervously, unsure if you should tell them the truth. if they were going to be your ‘family’, you might as well show some honesty. “well uh, no offense, but i’m not here because i want to be. i know nothing about soccer,” you begin.

niki scoffs at that, rolling his eyes, “of course you don’t.” he only glares coldly when jake elbows his side.

“i’m here as a punishment. for-“ you look down, feeling embarrassment about what you did for the first time all because of niki’s scrutiny. “for punching kim chelsea.” sounds of surprise circle the team at your confession, and you watch in worry as niki’s jaw clenches, his fists tightening at his sides as if he’s holding himself back.

do.. niki and chelsea know each other?

“that was you!?” jungwon gasps, nervously checking on his younger, black haired friend. he then walks over to him and whispers something into his ear, soothingly patting his back.

“no way,” jake mutters.

your eyebrows furrow, finally making eye contact with niki for the first time with a sudden urge to defend yourself, “i didn’t do it for fun! i—“

“just be quiet,” niki spits, throwing his blue hoodie and bag over his shoulder before walking off the field, away from the team without another word.

“yah, nishimura! get your ass back here and apologize!” jay barks with no result.

“there’s still twenty minutes of practise, bro!” sunghoon adds.

jungwon only sighs, looking at you pitifully. “sorry about him, it’s.. it’s a long story. i think you two should figure it out alone.”

“i only punched chelsea to defend my friend, who she’s been bullying for weeks straight,” you finish saying what niki didn’t let you, frustratedly pushing your hair back.

the boys seemed flabbergasted by this discovery, exchanging shocked glances. “yeah, you really gotta talk to him,” jake acknowledges.

day one as the soccer team manager, and you think you’d rather be dead.

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

the news of your recently gained title spread like wildfire around school by the next morning. not only were random girls asking you for information about the team members all day, but the boys themselves constantly waved or said hi to you in the halls, earning you a handful of jealous glares from said girls.

you nearly choke in confusion when you open your locker to see about twenty letters piled up in a small mountain, some decorated to grab your attention and stand out more than the rest. you cautiously look around for a moment before grabbing one of the letters, opening it up carefully.

dearest y/n (aka the manager),

i know you don’t know me, but i have handwritten this letter in search of desperate help regarding yang jungwon. what is he like with his friends? does he smell good? he’s an amazing captain to his team, right? please, i have to know what i need to do to reach his heart. shall i prepare flowers and a teddy bear? some new cleats? please send advice, i need to get him to notice me.

sincerely, yang rei.

jesus christ. was this seriously what all these letters were for? you’ve only spent a day with the team so far, and this was the result? how were you supposed to know if jungwon preferred flowers or cleats?

“y/n!” as if your morning couldn’t get worse, the biggest yapper himself, choi beomgyu appears out of thin air. “i heard you’ve been assigned the boys soccer team manager after you got in trouble with the principal for punching-“

“hi beomgyu. yep, thanks for the summary.” you cut in, smiling passive aggressively.

the brown haired boy doesn’t get the memo, smiling back enthusiastically while raising a nosy eyebrow at your letter tower. “you sure are popular now, huh? what’s with all the letters?”

none of your business, choi beomgyu. “yeah, i kinda have a fanclub now.” technically, that wasn’t a lie. in your peripheral vision, a familiar nest of black curls walks by, the same blue hoodie from practice thrown over his uniform. nishimura riki. for some strange reason, you feel a sweep of butterflies rush through you at the sight of the boy who would probably rather spend his time with a wet sock than with you.

‘remember this conversation when you fall in love!’ the teasing voice of byeol snaps you out of your trance, slamming your locker shut and rushing to catch up with him.

“bye, y/n!” beomgyu says in the background once again. his dumb voice truly sounds like deja vu, instead you might be the one getting punched this time around with the face niki makes when he sees you walking next to him.

“the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snarls, speeding up his pace in an attempt to lose you.

“listen, i don’t know why you care about chelsea so much,” shit! why did you start with mentioning her of all things? niki immediately growls in annoyance, purposely pushing through groups of people in the halls. you run to catch up to him, apologising to the students you nudge along the way. “but- but you need to let me explain.”

“get away from me. i don’t need to be seen with someone who hurt my friend out of jealousy,” he states firmly.

you freeze, looking at his expressionless side profile. “jealousy? what are you even talking about? just let me tell you my side. please, niki.”

without even considering your offer or sparing a glance, niki enters his classroom, slamming the door right on your face.

“what the fuck!” you curse furiously under your breath. making a fool out of yourself just for some dumb soccer boy’s approval? what’s your pathetic reputation come to?

no. if nishimura riki wants to try and hate you that bad, then so be it. but you’ll never be one to turn down a challenge.

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

niki hates the fact that through his whole history class, he’s too busy thinking about l/n y/n to process anything that’s being taught. he has never been so interested in a girl before, definitely not someone like you who he was supposed to hate. for some reason, he didn’t like when you laughed and high fived his teammates in the hallways. he didn’t like how you now sat next to jungwon in maths, and he had to deal with seeing you guys whisper in each others ears for the whole hour. and in the hallways just now? you looked so cute running to catch up to him, so desperate to try and get his attention.

guilt rushes through him for thinking of you in such a way. no! that is not why he’s thinking about you. you’re not cute at all.

but what did you want to explain? why you punched one of his closest friends? he already knew everything, chelsea wouldn’t lie to him, right?

he recalls rushing into the school nursing room when he heard what’d happened, wanting to check on his friend. “geez, it’s bruising bad. did you accidentally bite your lip when it happened?” he had asked worriedly, cupping chelsea’s chin as if she were a fragile vase.

she sniffles, holding his wrist in her grip tightly. “mhm, it hurts so bad, ki.”

niki frowns, biting his lip. in his opinion, his friend’s being in pain was more painful than if it was his own. anger flows through him as he continues to inspect the girl’s wound. “who did this?”

“l/n y/n,” she doesn’t hesitate even a bit, eyes turning to slits, “it-it’s cause she’s jealous of me i guess. she always hated me for my looks, i don’t know.”

and ever since that day, niki had gone on a mission to find l/n y/n.

yet the minute he saw you walk on that field with your dumb, giant backpack, he knew he would never be able to punch you back.

niki groans, ruffling his black locks with his free hand while wondering how on earth to get you out of his head.

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

two practises until the season begins and surprisingly, you were getting along with the boys well (apart from a certain someone). you’ve learned a few important things about not only the team members, but also soccer itself: heeseung usually plays a position called striker, which is the highest position on the field and the most common spot for scoring goals. niki and jake were the main left and right wingers, and are usually the ones assisting heeseung in scoring. jungwon explained to you how nobody stays on the field for too long, everyone gets breaks by subbing for each other on and off the bench. you were pretty proud of your growing knowledge of the sport considering you started from nothing, and you were even more excited to show the team what you’d been working on.

ignoring the daily glares of the female spectators on the bleachers, you trail onto the field and over to where the boys are practising. “manager!” jake waves at the sight of you, a big, goofy smile growing on his face. at your nickname, the rest of the boys look up, waving to you as well. niki simply stares at you, rolling his eyes stubbornly.

“hi, y/n!” jungwon greets, kicking the ball at his feet over to you.

you yelp, nearly stumbling over it. “yah, i’m not your teammate!” you awkwardly do your best to boot it back in his general direction, luring an amused chuckle out of the captain. anyone could tell sports were not your thing by that single interaction. “anyways, all of you c’mere.” for the fun of it, you demandingly blow your whistle along the way.

“i think we heard you just fine,” jay teases, watching you set your backpack down on the bench.

sunghoon sighs, crossing his arms. “you know how she gets with the whistle. it’s almost as scary as mr. kwang when someone forgets to turn the showers off.”

“very funny,” you pout, pulling out your clipboard along with a bag of animal crackers.

“so what’re we all here for,” heeseung inquires, “an animal cracker mukbang?” a few snickers are heard around the team as some boys decide to take a seat on the turf.

“geez, you guys are so impatient. here,” you show them the papers you’ve printed, proudly gesturing for jungwon to pass them around.

“what’s this— wait,” jungwon’s eyes widen, scanning the documents over. “y/n, is- aren’t these players from the team we’re going against for our first game?

you smirk, shoving a handful of crackers into your mouth. “yep, spent a few hours researching all about ‘em. their most probable starting lineup, goalie’s weak spots, each players positions and things to watch out for, and more. all on those papers.”

“that’s our manager!” a new voice praises. mr kwang looks pleased as he walks over, placing a hand on your shoulder happily. “very well done, y/n. this will be a big help when planning our strategy.”

“holy shit, this is insane,” jay mutters, flipping through the pages slowly. even niki has nothing to complain about, studying them over his hyung’s shoulder.

“language, and that’s enough. all of you back to your drills! let’s go!” mr. kwang barks, blowing his whistle and winking at you as all the boys practically sprint back to their spots in fear.

the next half an hour you spend writing stats about each of the boys and how they’re playing during practice. every once in a while, one of them will jog over to the bench and you’ll hand them their water bottle, all while stuffing your face with animal crackers (jake stole a few at one point, and you were not pleased).

“water,” a deep voice mumbles. you pause your writing to look up and find niki staring down at you, uniform drenched in sweat and exhaustion.

he looks like an angel, skin glistening beautifully under the sun as he pushes his moist bangs away from his forehead. for a moment, you just admire him, mouth parted slightly. “geez, get a hold of yourself.” he impatiently makes his way behind you to where the water bottles are, chugging down the refreshment obnoxiously. it almost feels like he’s showing off now, purposely throwing his head back and displaying his adam’s apple as it bobs after every sip.

niki catches your spying as he finishes the drink, scoffing in amusement. “why don’t you take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

you gulp, sheepishly looking back down at your clipboard. “i wasn’t looking at you.”

“mhm. you have crumbs on your lips by the way,” he comments. you lift a hand to try and wipe them off, but to no avail according to the annoyed look niki sends your way. he rolls his eyes, walking over and bending down in front of you.

oh god, this was bad, very bad. why is he so close? his moles are even more endearing up front, and you can feel his breath fan your face as he lifts a hand to your lips, slowly wiping the crumbs off with his thumb. “need me to do everything for you? i thought you’re my manager.” heat rushes to your cheeks, unable to form a reply.

and with that, niki turns around, walking away as if nothing happened.

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

the next few days flew by with little difficulty— or at least, in the nishimura riki department. you decided to not confront him about his stunt at last practise, but that wasn’t fully your choice; you’ve been discovering the hard way that trying to balance school and being a team manager was like trying to play two instruments at the same time. first you’d have your classes full of new assignments, then you stay after school to get manager work done, and then you go straight from your office to the library to study, and by the time you get home it’s already dark and dinner is left cold on the counter for you.

byeol was not happy with your newly packed schedule either, especially now that photography club was out of the question. but there was no time to worry about your friend now, practise was starting in five minutes and your precious animal crackers were nowhere to be found. the search to find the snack would be much easier if there weren’t hundreds of letters stuffed in your poor locker daily. you were seriously getting sick of throwing out notes asking what perfume park sunghoon used.

“y/n.” that voice sounded awfully, unpleasantly familiar. you whip around from your locker, locking eyes with a frowning kim chelsea.

your eyebrows furrow, inspecting the bruise on her chin. “chelsea.”

she seems to get even angrier at your nonchalant response, eye twitching as she reaches out to shove you against your open locker, making the letters inside sprinkle to the ground. your right shoulder slams against your locker shelf, making you hiss out in pain. “seriously, you want to do this again?” you snarl, now holding your aching shoulder.

“how the hell did you become their manager?” chelsea barks, throwing punch after punch in your direction. her throwing speed clearly isn’t very promising, as it takes you no effort to dodge out of the way before every strike. “yah, tell me!” she screams, moving back as you try to grab her wrists and calm her down.

what’s with the deja vu? students have formed around the both of you again, pulling out their phones and calling their friends over. you swear you can see beomgyu’s fluffy brown hair in the crowd, but he doesn’t look very excited by the fight. he looks almost.. worried for you.

while you’re distracted, chelsea rips her hand away from your restraint, landing a solid punch to your jaw. ouch. as soon as the contact is made, the room starts spinning. it seems you’ve fallen to the ground by the blurry groups of students looking down at you. for some reason, you can’t hear their screams much, almost like you’re underwater. the lights are extra bright now, and everything just keeps twirling around like a beyblade until it all goes black. wait.. is that byeol? you recognise her chocolate hair even if it’s unclear and fuzzy. and hold on.. wasn’t that niki who was kneeling down next to you..? you’re too lightheaded to know for sure.

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

ah, so this is what kim chelsea felt like only a few days prior. your lips were dry and chapped, and you felt like you’ve slept for a week straight. there’s a screaming ache on your right shoulder, and your jaw hurts every time you open your mouth.

oh right, you were shoved. and punched. by kim chelsea.

you smack your lips, pushing yourself up from the school clinic’s bed to find byeol on her phone, kicking her feet in the air like a child next to you. she gasps when she notices your movements, rushing over to your side. “you’re awake! you were out for a whole two hours you big, stupid, idiot.”

you chuckle at her relentless insults, pulling your friend in for a much needed hug. “thanks for staying with me. and what do you mean? this time it was all chelsea.”

“i know, i know, but you always find a way to make me worried! can’t you go just one week without getting in a fight?” byeol complains, reaching down to hold your hand in hers.

“sorry, bee.” shit, realization hits you like lightning. “wait, i missed soccer practise! that was the last practise before our first game this week, and i had so much planned for training and—“

byeol squeezes your hand, laughing at your strange choice of priorities. “y/n, calm down. you literally have injuries all over you, why are you worried about the soccer team? i’m sure they’ll be fine.” byeol suddenly smirks, as if she knows something you don’t. “speaking of, this one black haired boy seemed really worried about you. after he yelled at chelsea for a bit, he piggybacked you all the way here.”

“seriously?” your eyes widen. niki helped you?

byeol nods in confirmation. “i went too, of course! i was like, the most worried about you. just for the record, i was much, much more worried than your boyfriend.” you smack the girl’s arm, making her let out a mischievous snicker. “but yeah. along the way he asked me a bit about what happened, so i told him how chelsea was well- making me buy her lunch and constantly pushing me—“

“bullying you,” you correct sternly.

“yeah,” your friend gulps. “which is why you punched her n’ all that. then he went really quiet. also, he wanted to stay with you but he had practice.”

you sigh. while you made it out with a bruising jaw and sore shoulder, at least niki knows the truth. for some reason, you find yourself beaming at the thought (then proceeding to hiss in pain at the ache in your jaw).

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

four days after chelsea (who hasn’t been seen since) punched you was the next time you saw niki. your shoulder had healed completely, while your jaw was still getting there in due time. over the four days, you’ve been putting up the advertisements you and byeol proudly made to bring in more people to the upcoming game, sticking them to the walls all around school.

“y/n!” for the first time since you’ve met him, niki says your name with an adorable smile on his face. though you were a bit confused, your heart can’t help but beat loudly at his cute expression. he jogs over to you, cheekily throwing an arm around your shoulder. “what’re you doing?”

how could this be the same boy who was so cold to you days prior? “oh, so we’re friends now?” you ask, half serious.

niki swallows, turning his gaze away from you. “look. i’m- i’m really sorry for not giving you a chance to tell your side of the story and being well, a dick. i really should’ve heard you out before treating you like that.”

you nod in approval, looking back down to tape another advertisement to the wall. “it’s okay, practises will be much less tense now without you staring holes into the back of my head.” when you don’t get a response, you open your mouth to speak before you're suddenly pushed against the wall, arms caging you on either sides of your head by the taller boy.

he has a small, cocky smirk on his face at your dumbfounded expression when he leans closer. “y/n?”

your swear your chest is going to explode, butterflies running wild at the sight of niki’s face being only inches from yours. thank god the hallway was empty, or the blush on your cheeks would only get much worse. “ye-yeah?”

he tilts his head, looking down at you with an unreadable glint. “out of curiosity, do you still think i’m the hottest on my team?”

seriously? what kind of question is that?! you do your best to stay calm, turning your head away from him nervously. “uh— maybe,” you mumble.

niki doesn’t seem to approve of your answer, bringing a hand to pull your chin back towards him. you swear you see his eyes flicker down to your lips for a second, but they’re back to staring straight into your soul before you can act on it. “maybe?“

you know what he wants to hear. “fine. yes i do, idiot. happy?”

“very. i knew you had a crush on me.”he grins smugly, releasing you from the wall as if nothing happened.

“wh- i didn’t say that!” you blush more realizing that you never denied his claim.

niki seems to catch on to this as well, snickering under his breath. “want some help with those?” he gestures to the posters.

that’s how you ended up spending another thirty minutes running around school with niki, laughing and talking as you put up his game’s advertisements.

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

niki tunes out the constant bickering of the boys circulating the changeroom, focusing on tying his cleats. it was finally game day, and he was more than ready to show off in front of you be back on the field with his teammates. it was a home game, so niki had the advantage of being able to start warming up earlier while their opponents were busy driving here. he wondered what you were thinking, probably on the way to the field now. were you excited? did you want to watch him play? were you planning to cheer for him?

suddenly, he’s been smacked on the head with something hard. “ow! what the hell, bro?” he looks down to see the weapon of choice, jake’s knee pad.

“we’ve been trying to get your attention, but you were too busy having your little main character moment.” jay sniggers with a few others, tying on his own cleats.

niki rubs the spot he was hit, cursing. “the fuck are you talking about?”

“don’t try to act all innocent,” sunghoon smirks, pulling off his t-shirt to change into his jersey. “i caught you two lovebirds putting up those posters, giggling and flirting in your own little world~”

niki feels his cheeks heat up slightly, shyly looking back down at his cleats. damn it, how the hell did he not catch sunghoon spying on the both of you? “we weren’t flirting,” he mutters defensively.

“mhm, not even when you pinned her to the wall like in some cringy kdrama?”

jungwon gawks in surprise, “our little niki did what?!”

“with his hands next to her head n’ everything. i’m so proud,” sunghoon laughs teasingly, ruffling the boy’s hair.

niki only groans, hiding his face in his hands shyly. “do you guys ever shut the fuck up?”

“you love us.”

jake wiggles his eyebrows, “true, but he loves y/n more.”

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

you cheerily skip over to the soccer field, humming to the song blasting through your earbuds. ‘it’s more than like, L 다음 또 O 다음 난 yeah! you and i, it’s more than like, what’s after like?’ only moments later you end up turning off your music, as it’s overthrown by the sound of screaming and cheering from the bleachers. there was no school today in celebration of the first soccer game of the season, explaining the rows and rows of students holding signs up and taking pictures. some have jerseys that they’ve bought from the concession, and you send a harsh glare to one girl with niki’s name on hers.

“y/n!” you know that voice anywhere, searching the crowd before finding byeol waving to you, holding a sign with your name on it. it has hearts and little stars all around it, messily colored in with shades of pink and red.

classic byeol, you snicker. “yah, what is that? i’m not the one playing!” you yell over the cheers, secretly feeling your heart burst from adoration.

she smirks proudly, blowing a kiss to you. “i know, i’m only here for you though.”

before you can reply, two arms abruptly pull you backwards into a sturdy chest, warm breath heating your earlobe. “should i be worried about her stealing you from me?”

you turn around in the embrace to find niki smirking down at you, dressed in his black shorts and purple jersey. from the bleachers behind, you hear a few surprised gasps and angry whispers. you raise an eyebrow, “and when did i give you permission to own me in the first place?”

niki grows his signature smirk again, pulling you tighter against his body. “when you admitted to having a crush on me.”

“damn, that was good,” you hear byeol say somewhere in the background.

you scoff, pushing him away (mostly because if you stayed that close to him any longer you’d inevitably explode) and dragging him back to his team, who seems to be in the middle of doing a stretch led by heeseung.

“manager!” sunghoon and jay both grin, eyes narrowing down on your hand intertwined with niki’s.

jungwon easily notices too, but doesn’t comment on it, only smiling cutely as usual. “hi y/n!”

“hey, you guys ready to win?” you grin, releasing niki’s hand to pull out your clipboard. the boy pouts at the loss of contact, reluctantly jogging over to his team to continue stretching.

“never been readier.” jake sighs, completely confident and relaxed.

“great, then let’s do attendance.” you click the back of your pen, beginning to call out the names of every player. “heeseung?”

“here,” he quickly replies as you check off his name.

thankfully, every player on the team seemed to be present as you continued down the list. “and lastly, sunoo.”

“here!”

“perfect,” you praise. something felt wrong, though. like.. something or someone was missing despite the flawless attendance.

“hey guys,” heeseung uttered, watching the opposing team make their way onto the field. “the game starts in five minutes and coach kwang still isn’t here.”

at the striker’s words, everyone frantically looks around, realisation hitting. “shit, you’re right! how did we not notice he was missing before?” jay exclaims.

niki looks at you with desperate eyes. “if we don’t have a coach, doesn’t that mean we have to..”

you gulp, nodding in confirmation. “forfeit.”

“what? it’s the first fucking game of the season, we can’t,” jake wails, ruffling his hair anxiously.

luck clearly wasn’t on your side, as the referee begins making his way over, holding his whistle sternly. “we’re ready to begin, where’s the coach?” he asks, closely scanning his eyes over your team.

the boys all look around awkwardly before jungwon steps up as captain. “uh, we’re actually still waiting for him, sir. do you think we can get an extra few minutes?”

the referee sighs, glancing at his watch. “you have five minutes.”

so you waited. one minute became two, two became four, until time was already up. mr. kwang was nowhere to be found, and you were stressed, so stressed that not even your animal crackers could calm you down. niki laid across the bench, head in your lap with his eyes closed. you massage his scalp, playing with his curly locks in an attempt to calm yourself down while the rest of the boys make themselves busy picking at the turf or lazily dribbling a ball around.

the referee starts making his way back over to you, checking his watch once again. “time’s up. do you have a coach, or are you forfeiting?”

as jungwon opens his mouth to announce the team’s surrender, niki shoots up from his spot on your lap. “we have a coach,” he states confidently. everyone whips their heads over to the boy, watching as he points to you with full determination. “she’s our coach.”

jake and sunghoon burst into laughter, while the others exchange mixed expressions. meanwhile, you’re having a mini panic attack, staring daggers into the side of the boy’s skull. niki expects you to pretend to be a coach? being manager was hard enough, you knew absolutely nothing about coaching! mr. kwang, why are you doing this to me?

“ma’am, is this true?” it was clear the referee was a bit unsure and judging you (which was fair considering you looked more like one of the boy’s nerdy little sister if anything), but there wasn’t much he could do without proof.

you glance at niki, instantly giving in when you see his puppy eyes. “y-yes, i’m their coach.”

“alright then, please send your starting lineup onto the field.”

the millisecond the referee has gained enough distance, the team lets out a synchronized sigh of relief. “i hope you guys know what you’re doing, or this is going to be a disaster,” you scold specifically niki, running a stressed hand through your hair.

“don’t worry manager, we got this under control!” jake chirps, happily running onto the field with the rest of the team following close behind.

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

you don’t know how you’re going to survive watching soccer games all year. you’re praying it isn’t because the boys are trying to figure out most of the plays and strategies without coach kwang’s guidance, but it was a close tie; 1 to 1 with only five minutes left. jungwon and sunoo were doing an amazing job on defense, but the forwards were having just as much trouble as the other team trying to get anywhere close to the net.

you ran out of animal crackers to soothe your worry, so now you were anxiously clicking the back of your pen, watching as the other team sprinted down the field with the ball. the guy chooses to go down the right side of the field and as he approaches, jungwon leers, watching his feet carefully. “c’mon won, you got this,” you mutter under your breath.

the enemy winger suddenly pretend to go right, and as jungwon swiftly plunges out to match his direction, he swerves and runs left, right towards the goal. “shit, shit!” your foot begins tapping, watching jungwon cuss under his breath in defeat. jay, the goalie, your last hope, quickly bends his knees, his gloved hands out in preparation.

sunoo desperately tries to run in and stop him, but it’s too late as the enemy already takes a shot. it was like slow motion, jungwon and sunoo running to try and block the ball with their body, jay jumping to his right and reaching out for the ball milliseconds before it finds the net. “yes!” you cheer, watching your goalie protectively hold the ball to his chest, releasing a stressed exhale.

two minutes on the clock, it was now or never. jay throws the ball towards sunoo, who then passes it on to niki up on left wing. this was probably their last chance to solve the tie before time ran out. niki sprints down the field, getting past the opponents winger before kicking it over to heeseung. the striker runs faster than ever before, speeding right past the defenseman with a focused expression. you were clicking your pen even faster now, glancing back to the clock. 1 minute and 27 seconds remaining. “heeseung!” niki shouts, raising a hand to signal that he was open for a pass. the pink haired boy obeys, kicking the ball over and giving niki the opportunity to shoot.

“please, please niki, you can do this.” you’ve now left your spot on the bench, hovering closer to the sidelines for a better view of the intense match.

just as a defenceman runs in to check him, niki slams the ball up into the air, aiming straight for the left corner. it was so precise, in fact, that not even the goalie could reach high enough to stop it. the minute the ball hit the goal, screams were heard, spectators probably crying, being much too dramatic for a school soccer game yet here you were, hollering in pure joy as niki gets jumped by his teammates with a big goofy smile on his face. and just like that, the buzzer rings loudly with perfect timing, indicating the end of the game and another symphony of happy shouting and applause surrounds the field.

you were so blissed by relief you barely noticed niki pulling away from his teammates to run over and give you a big, sweaty hug. though due to his height, he ends up lifting you off the ground a bit, shaking you around like a stuffed toy. “that- that was amazing!” you hug him back happily. “you were like, like running so fast, and then that guy tried to stop you but totally failed because you were just that good!! and that shot?! the poor goalie had no ch— mmph!” oh. before you could finish your sentence, nishimura riki was already pushing his lips onto yours. they were soft and plush, molding against your own wonderfully under his cute nose that gently brushed yours. his kisses were a bit (very) messy, but it was really just because he was so overjoyed. scoring the winning goal and kissing you in one day? double whammy if you ask him.

you’re the first to pull away, arms still around his neck as you catch your breath. before you can stop to think, the first thought that comes to your head tumbles out of your mouth. “can we do that again?” you inwardly slap yourself out of embarrassment.

the boy bursts into laughter, throwing his head back teasingly. “wow, you really like me.”

you scowl, “no shit, sherlock. but whatever, i guess i’ll go kiss jungwon instead.”

“hey, why am i a part of this lover’s quarrel?” jungwon magically appears behind you with a raised brow, the rest of the team happily following behind.

“manager,” sunghoon interjects, “rate niki’s kisses from one to ten.”

niki groans, “you guys are so annoying.”

“hmm,” you pretend to think, making niki glare at you in offense. “maybe.. a three?” you smirk.

“wh- a three?!” niki whines. the boys burst into laughter, shoving their teammate back and forth. “and i was gonna ask you out,” he pouts sadly.

you tilt your head, pondering for a moment. “if you buy me some animal crackers, maybe i’ll say yes.”

“animal crackers and bowling, then?” he compensates.

you smile, “deal.”

with that, niki fist bumps the air, screaming a victorious “let’s go!” before running to the changeroom. of course, not before kissing you one last time for the road. you chuckle at his childish antics, touching your lips in an attempt to process what’d just happened.

okay, maybe being the soccer team’s manager wouldn’t be too bad.

you’ve reached the end hurray! if you enjoyed, reblogs n’ comments are always very appreciated and motivating for me to keep writing!

perm taglist: @duolingofanaccount @strawberry-sunset-skies @scented-morker @koshinene @boowoowho @sultrybaby

4K notes · View notes

daydreamingleclerc · 1 year

Text

corrupt // mason mount

in which; he’s the university’s superstar sports player, and you’re just an innocent little bookworm. he walks you home one night after commotion in the street and you can’t help but offer him inside.

includes; corruption kink, uncomfortable cat calling, master manipulation, excessive usage of pet names (it gets annoying, sorry), dom!mason, sub!reader, foul language, fingering, oral (m, f rec), choking, protected sex, squirting, swearing, a sprinkle of CNC.

i was listening to sk8er boi by avril lavigne and it spiraled into this. i’m not sorry. thanks @landopeaches for helping me w all the ideas and being there to lust over mason with throughout the process <3

this is filthy. and just under 10K words. please read at your own risk. don’t say i didn’t want you.

22:04.

the library didn’t normally stay open this late on friday nights, especially during the week of varsity, but you had a way with words and a very appreciated knack for batting your eyelashes.

“i think it’s-”

“-ssh, i'm writing,” you held a hand up to your housemate and best friend, becca, as you finished your train of thought before your new column ultimately came crashing to a halt, “okay, continue.”

she sat beside you, flicking through a book she clearly had no interest in. she’d given up on her sociology assignment long ago, as had savannah, who was now half asleep on one of the sofa’s further down the room. aside from the odd one or two chess club players downstairs, you were the only three in there.

“i think it’s probably a good idea for us to get going,” becca hummed, and much to your distaste, savannah had never been happier. “it’s ten p.m on a friday night, y/n, why don’t we all go pick up some food and watch a movie?”

savannah had already gotten her jacket on and slipped her bag over her shoulder. she didn’t need anymore persuasion.

“you guys go ahead,” you responded, wiggling with the mouse of your laptop as the screen dimmed, “i’ll catch up soon, i just have to finish this section of next weeks column,” becca scowled at you and before she could open her mouth, you eased her racing thoughts, “becca, i'll be fine. just pick me something and i'll pay you back later. i promise i'll be home before eleven.”

the house that the three of you lived in with two of your other housemates was only a short walk away from campus and that gave you roughly forty minutes to finish up this segment. savannah yawned and becca still looked unimpressed.

“you’d better be,” she picked her bag up off the back of her chair and slid it on her shoulder. she left a kiss on the top of your head, “because if i find your dead body in a back alley tomorrow morning, i'll kill you.”

“charming,” savannah yawned. “love you, y/n.”

“love you.” becca gave you a reluctant wave as she walked down the stairs of the library.

you didn’t leave long after the girls and as you exited the warmth of the library and walked out into the crisp april chill, you regretted not bringing a thicker jacket to cocoon yourself as you walked home. blaring music came from all angles, as did the stares and wandering eyes.

it was clear to all eyes you weren’t making your way to or from a party, dressed in a white sundress with cherries printed on the fabric and a white knitted cardigan. the pockets of the cardigan gaped with just your mobile phone, id and house keys inside them – you'd rented out a locker for the night to keep your laptop safe rather than dragging it back home and threatening to drop it.

as you turned the corner onto the main loop of on-campus flats, your palms grew sweaty. you had to pass the flats and walk across the courtyard – which was full of spillover students itching to go out to either one of the clubs in town – to get to the back gate so you could slip out into the car park and cross into your estate to get home.

a drunken body bumped into you as you crossed the road, and in turn your phone fell out of your hand as you tripped up the curb. you managed to steady yourself but unfortunately for you, your little stumble had caught the eye of a small group of drunken boys.

“hey sugar, you look lost, fancy coming up here with us?”

you didn’t recognize any of them, which was unusual considering they looked like the kind of boys who did sports, and you were a columnist in the university newspaper. you only did two sports columns a month, and the rest were focused on arts media – which was your degree, after all – because of that, you knew everybody.

you knew you should’ve responded, told them to fuck off, or at least say no; but you didn’t. you froze. all you did was shake your head, and when they got closer your legs began to speed up.

“hey, i was talking to you,” the same voice echoed, “don’t walk away from me when i'm just trying to have a conversation.”

you fought off the urge to throw up. confrontation was something you despised, especially in front of a big crowd. “are you deaf?” the voice shouted, clearly agitated now, and you could hear it getting closer and closer until it was virtually behind you.

mason, one of the school’s star ex-students and most glorified alumni noticed the commotion going on in the courtyard. luckily enough, he was stood with a friend who was smoking outside in a small congregation of people waiting to head to another party. he recognized you from the times you’d sat out on the pitch during games with your notepad and fluffy pink pen, that would always get dampened when the inevitable rain kicked in. he had a lot of time for you, even if you had no idea.

“i’m offering you sex on a plate here, love-”

“-gareth, piss off.”

your heart felt like it was pounding out of your chest in that moment, and when a familiar face stepped out of the shadows, you let out a puff of air. your eyes caught mason’s, and immediately he rushed over to you.

“y/n, are you okay?” his hand rested softly on your shoulder and massaged the hot flesh of your skin in an attempt to calm you. he waited for you to nod, and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “you’re freezing, do you want to borrow my jacket?”

you shook your head and couldn’t help getting lost in the way he got the boys to mutter an apology and scramble away with their tails – dicks – between their legs.

“where are you off to?”

“uh, i, um,” you pinched the bridge of your nose and tried to compose your thoughts. in the three years you’d known mason, he’d never once touched you this way. a complimentary nod of the head after a quick post-match interview or a stolen glance in the hall followed by a soft smile were all the emotional bridges you’d built together. “i'm on my way home.”

mason gestured to his friends to go on without him as he continued to walk with an arm around your shoulder. “i’ll walk you home, babe, okay?” he hooked his thumb under your chin and got you to look over at him, “i’ve just got to stop off at a party and show my face for ten minutes, whereabouts do you live?”

“uh, forty-two goodwood drive.” your voice came out quieter than expected, and mason hummed, nodding his head when his lips formed a smile.

“perfect, the parties at twenty-eight goodwood drive, we can stop off there for ten minutes, have a drink and then i can walk you to the door.”

“we?” you frowned, “i'm not good with big crowds, mason.”

he tutted, “that’s a lie, remember last year when you stood up in front of all the freshers with that powerpoint on how they could join the school newspaper?”

you were shocked he remembered that, and it took you a minute to compute his words and formulate a response. “that was different, it was work related,” a knot formed between your eyebrows and that usual smirk had found its way back to mason’s face. it seemed to be a permanent feature. “honestly, mason. it's fine, i can walk myself home.”

“no, darling. i've said i'll walk you home, please,” he stopped to look at you for a minute, and the knot between your eyebrows released as if subconsciously, “let me at least walk you home.”

it flattered you that mason mount of all people was willing to walk you home. not even men you dated offered to do that. and he had almost begged you.

“if you insist.”

he patted your shoulder with the tips of his fingers and you began walking again, safe in the cage of his arm.

“atta girl.”

22:50

it seemed to be a night of firsts.

for the first time, the campus celebrities, as becca called them, had allowed you into their party as if you were one of their own. mason had poured you a drink and you held the red cup between both hands to hide the shakes. you wanted to say they’d come on because of the drunken cat calling, but you knew on the surface it was because mason was keeping you close.

you were thankful, nobody really knew you at this party other than maybe two people, one of them being mason. it was clear you were uncomfortable; the push and shove of drunken antics wasn’t something you were particularly used to. you knew your limits, and at the grand old age of twenty-three, you expected everybody else to know theirs, too.

it seemed, wherever mason was, a flock of people followed. he had his very own fan club. mason was already a student when you’d arrived, he'd graduated university from his sports science combined course a year early because he was scouted by a football agent and now he was off playing league football and crushing it, you had to admit. he still had a lot of friends here and came back semi-regularly to join in on the parties and sex.

the pair of you sat down on a plush suede sofa, and he noticed you checking your watch for the time. you’d been twiddling your thumbs at this party as mason’s impromptu plus one for twenty-five minutes, and you anxiously tapped your fingers on your knees. you were supposed to be home in seven minutes.

“whats up, princess?”

your cheeks heated up at the use of his constant pet names, but this one seemed to take the cake. “i told my housemates i'd be back at the house for eleven.”

when he flashed that signature mason smirk that you found yourself fawning over for months, the familiar knot formed between your eyebrows. “you can allow yourself to be a little bit late, darling,” mason’s expression then mimicked yours, “do they keep tabs on you like they own you or something?”

his question took you by surprise. it was the first proper rude thing he’d said to you all night, and that’s how you expected him to be around you, but so far, he was everything but. “i’m kidding,” he suppressed a chuckle and scooted closer, “just tell them you’re gonna be a little late, babe. don't worry, you’re safe with me.”

he shot you a wink, and it sent butterflies swarming around your body and wetness pooling in your underwear. this was probably the most turned on a man had ever made you, and he hadn’t even touched you, or said anything remotely sexual.

before mason could open his mouth, a boy you vaguely recognized as someone from the hockey team slid over and sat on the corner of the coffee table. immediately, they got into conversation, and you found yourself once again admiring the way he held himself. you snapped out of it almost instantly.

“who's the girl then, mase? got yourself a new toy?”

“his new what?”

“got myself a new what?”

yours and mason’s questions overlapped, and immediately his friend could sense that what he said was wrong. he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or apologize, and then he saw mason’s expression and chose the latter. he scurried off, and you placed your cup down on the coffee table in front of you.

“i think i should just go,” as you went to get up, mason grabbed your wrist and you caught one another's eyes, “mason, please.”

he pleaded with his eyes to get you to stay, “don’t listen to anything dom says, sweetheart,” mason scowled in his direction and dom couldn’t help but keep flickering his eyes over at the pair of you in regret, “he doesn’t know his brains from his balls, and that’s why he’s on the hockey team.”

he pulled a laugh from your lips and it immediately put him at ease.

“promise you won’t listen?” his hand brushed your knee, and you fought every inebriated urge you had to not pounce on him.

“mhm, i promise, mason,” you smiled, placing your hand on top of his. he smiled and scooted closer ever so slightly, “thank you.”

“good girl,” his words ignited a flame inside of your stomach, and the wet patch inside your underwear grew significantly. you'd never been called those words before, and he knew what he was doing when the knowing smirk grew. “would you like another drink?”

“yes, please,” you squeezed your legs together when his fingers brushed closer as he stood up, and he knew how he made you feel within seconds. you grabbed his fingers as he lifted them from your leg. you looked so innocent he could’ve exploded. “don’t be too long, please.”

“you’re so cute when you’re clingy,” he watched as your cheeks lit up in heat, “i'll only be over there. two minutes, tops.”

eleven o'clock had been and gone. becca and savannah had tried to ring multiple times to stick their noses in and find out what was going on, but you’d be leaving soon, and once mason had walked you to the door, they’d be all yours to gossip with.

you shifted in your spot, and tried to peel yourself off the sofa without distracting mason from his conversation with somebody you didn’t recognize at all, but it was unsuccessful. “where are you going, babe?”

“i need to pee,” you shifted again, and got up successfully without mason stopping you. he finished his conversation abruptly and you almost rolled your eyes, “where are the toilets?”

“i’ll take you.”

“i don’t need you to be my bodyguard, mason. just tell me where the toilets are and i'll go on my own.”

his lip quirked up into a hint of a smile. you got sassy when you’d had a drink. that boded well for him and his everlasting thoughts of you in compromising positions.

“darling, with all due respect you don’t know anybody here and i don’t want you wandering,” he finished the dregs of his drink, “i'll take you and then we can leave, c’mon, give me your drink.”

“why?”

“because i don’t want people seeing you holding it and it getting spiked, c’mon.”

you gave in rather easily and handed mason your half-full cup with a thoughtful smile. you hadn’t gone for a wee since before you left the library, and now you’d been holding it for a while it was something of a relief to be going. he took you to another bathroom, one in a less quiet part of the house. he had clearly been here multiple times before.

“you’re not gonna come in with me too, are you?”

“depends,” mason shrugged, “are you offering?”

you swatted his arm with a friendly punch, even though a part of you wanted to say yes and have him take you then and there in the bathroom. the door unlocked and a couple walked out, hair in disarray and clothes mismatched. brilliant.

“you just wait at the door, big guy.”

it stank of weed and sex in the room as you homed in on your surroundings as you peed. what started out as a stressful night had soon become enjoyable, and all thoughts of anxiety you had before you arrived at the party had washed away. you couldn’t hear mason at the door, even though you wouldn’t have been able to anyway because of the thumping bass; but you half expected him to be gone by the time you opened the door.

you wiped your hands on your dress and smoothed over your hair in the mirror. your mascara smudged in both corners of your eyes, and you cleaned it up, merging the outer smudges into your eyeliner. mason was stood with a soft smile on his face when you walked out, and you mimicked it, “i expected you to have found someone better to spend your evening with, thank you for waiting.”

“better than you?” he handed you your cardigan, the one you didn’t even realize you were missing, and you slipped your arms into it, “impossible, darling.”

you blushed again and covered your face with your hands, suppressing a delicate giggle from masons ears. he made sure the cardigan was on your shoulders, and a shiver trickled down your spine when he pulled your hair out, so it wasn’t trapped between fabrics.

“okay princess, finish your drink,” he handed you the cup and you downed it in one, trusting him enough in that moment to know that he wouldn’t spike it, and he raised his eyebrows, impressed, “all in one, good girl.”

your mind raced at the dirty scenario echoing through it, and heat pooled all over your body. you were honestly surprised you couldn’t feel your own slick on your thighs. nobody had ever made you feel like this before, and mason loved the hold he had on your achingly innocent persona. you subconsciously bit your lip and mason fought off a guttural moan.

“what’s with that expression, darling, hm? was it something i said?”

you opened your mouth to react, but he pinched your hip, laughed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders once again, the pair of you wandering down the hall like nobody's business.

he checked the time on your watch as you walked, lifting up your wrist as if it were a feather, and pulled a faux shocked face at the time. “oh dear, sweetheart,” he tutted, “eleven eighteen, your owners will be waiting up for you.”

you rolled your eyes at his jab, the second rude one of the night. one more and you’d be summoning up the courage to punch him in the face.

“they aren’t my owners, mason. they're my friends and they care.”

the two of you stepped out into the cold night air, your nipples hardening against the lace of your bra and scratching against the cotton of your dress. your thighs immediately came up in goosebumps and the cold was a nice juxtaposition to the heat pulsing your clit.

“so you’ve never submitted to anyone, darling?” he asked, shoving his free hand in his jacket pocket, ignoring the crowds of people wandering the streets and girls throwing up in bushes, “let them take complete ownership of you? let yourself go?”

his words shot straight to your core. you fumbled for a reply.

“uh, no, i.. um, i don’t think so.”

stupid reply.

“you don’t think so? oh, sweetheart. you'd know if you did,” as you got closer to your house, a swarm of longing pulled at your chest and you yearned for him now, in a way you’d never yearned for anybody in your life. “but then again, you’ve never tried it with me.”

the last part was muttered, and you could barely hear it.

“what?” you whined, the short, abrupt question coming out in a far more sexual tone than necessary.

“nothing for you to worry about darling,” he patted your cheek softly, “look, you’re home now.”

you half expected him to fall back on his promise, to walk away now and leave you high and dry. to leave you to sort out the mess he’d created, but you’d yearn for more than just the touch of your own fingertips or the ripple of a vibrator. you just didn’t know how to ask him.

he walked you right up to the door, as he said he would.

“thank you, mason,” you smiled. everything inside of you screamed to ask if he wanted to come inside, but when you opened your mouth, you just found the question too overwhelming. “i... uh...”

“what’s up darling?” he questioned, “don’t be shy. use your words.”

he smirked at the way you shivered. there was that feeling between your legs. again.

“do you... um. will you come in?”

he couldn’t help but lean across to kiss you. your lips soft against his slightly rough ones, and your hands flew up to his chest and your palms rested on the warmth of his white shirt. he kissed by the book, exactly how you imagined he would, and when he took your bottom lip between his teeth and swiped his tongue along it, you yelped.

you were too innocent, like bubble wrap left unpopped. he wanted to corrupt you from the inside out.

his dick hardened in his jeans.

“want me to make sure that you get into bed safe?” you nodded and his thumb brushed your bottom lip, and in a bold move you took it into your mouth and circled your tongue around it. you'd never done that to anybody in your life. it even shocked you.

“god,” mason groaned, finding the doorhandle with his free hand, “such an obedient little girl, hm?”

23:27

when becca and savannah saw mason standing in their hallway with a playboy smirk dressed over his face and a charm they just couldn’t resist, they couldn’t quite believe it. it boded worse for you in the long run, because they now saw with their own eyes that he was standing in your hallway, and they would be pacing around the livingroom until he left in the early hours so they could finally get their answers. becca was on the netball team, so mason recognized her.

“hey, becca,” he hummed, as effortlessly as ever. as if he didn’t just make out with you on your own damn porch. “still playing netball?”

she towered over him, her five-foot twelve slim frame was the perfect one for netball and she used it to her advantage, even if she wasn’t that good at the sport.

“mhm,” she nodded, snapping out of her trance for a minute. savannah was still simply stood next to becca in awe, “thanks for bringing y/n home.”

“it was my pleasure,” he looked at you and smiled, and your entire body rocked with heat. “she’s asked me to stick around for an hour or two, if that’s okay with you two, of course?”

you couldn’t help the little smirk that quipped at the corners of your mouth and you hid your face in his bicep. mason was playing into the joke he’d made earlier at becca and savannah being your owners. the pair of them nodded, and mason looked over at you.

“where’s your bedroom, darling?”

savannah almost choked when she heard the pet name.

“uh, top floor on the left,” his hand ran down your arm and his fingers entwined with yours as he walked to the stairs, and once again you tugged on his fingers, “would you like some tea?”

mason's mind raced. your innocence really wasn’t an act. he wanted to pity you, or patronize you, or build up an orgasm until it bubbled up inside of you and you squeaked and squealed and thrashed around in his arms until you begged him to let you cum. his dick grew again, but he just smiled.

“sure, darling,” he squeezed your fingers, “milk and two sugars, please.”

you nodded and watched as he walked straight up to the top floor of the house. you averted both becca and savannah’s eyes as you walked past them through into the kitchen. pizza boxes sat on the counter, with one unopened for you.

“what the fuck was all that about?” savannah questioned.

you unintentionally ignored her, to focused on drowning out the slick between your legs. nobody had ever made you feel this way, nobody had ever left you as needy or as desperate for sex as he had. in all fairness, you’d only had sex with one person, and it wasn’t even that good.

becca snapped her fingers in front of your eyes and you zoned back into the conversation. you smiled.

“oh, uh, he walked me home and we got to talking,” you shrugged as you pulled the milk from the fridge, “turns out we get on well, so i invited him in.”

“go y/n,” savannah clapped her hands together, “finally got a sexu-”

“-bye girls, thanks for the pizza!”

as you juggled with two cups of tea and the box of unopened pizza, mason walked into your kitchen. he'd already made himself at home, it seemed, seeing as his jacket and shoes were back up in your bedroom. “need some help, princess?” he asked, and when the pet name arose again you blushed heavily, and mason took the pizza box from your hand, “see you girls later.”

23:52

“i’m so boring, aren’t i?”

you asked him. you couldn’t help it.

you were sat between his legs and watching a movie on your teeny tiny tv screen at the foot of your bed. mason's eyebrows furrowed and he stroked at the skin on your arm. he couldn’t help but kiss the back of your head.

“not at all, darling. why do you say that?”

you shrugged, too embarrassed to answer. sex never came easy to you, you were the stereotypical bookworm student. you stayed out of trouble, you did your assignments and handed them in way before they were due. you were co-editor of the student newspaper, for fucks sake. you weren't the kind of girl that brought home hot, sexy, god-like alumni into her bedroom on friday nights just for a hook up.

mason knew that, and it was all part of the reason you enamored him.

“i’m not... i just... i'm... frigid.”

mason tutted and tucked some hair behind your ear, “you aren’t frigid, darling. you just need someone to loosen you up a little bit, someone to answer to, don’t you?”

you felt his dick grow harder underneath you, and it sent a shiver up your spine. you nodded, and mason spun your head around, so you were looking at him. his breath was hot on your face and you heaved for a breath when his fingers found your thighs.

“there’s so much i wish i could do to you, little one,” you gulped audibly, a shaky, hot breath, “but i won’t do it if you aren’t ready.”

“w-what.. um, w-what do you want to do?”

mason's fingers grazed higher and higher up your leg, and he was painstakingly close to the sticky slick on your inner high thighs.

“i want to do so much to you, darling, but i fear if i tell you, you’ll break my heart,” his fingers grazed at the soaked cotton of your pants and he laughed lowly, “but then again, if i tell you, it might make you wetter than you have been all night.”

you mewled when he dragged his finger between your folds over your underwear. you opened your mouth to ask him a question, but he shushed it with his free hand, bringing the tip of his index finger to the middle of your plump lips. “is this the first time you’ve been touched here, darling?” you shook your head. “yes? no? use your words.”

“n-no, mason.”

“you’re not a virgin?”

“shockingly, no,” your sarcastic comment left mason pinching your clit over your underwear and you yelped, “i’ve had sex once before.”

“just once?” he questioned, and watched the way your body writhed when he finally pushed the damp cotton aside to stroke your clit. he could’ve growled at the feeling of your pussy in his hand. “oh, darling, you’ve got so much to learn.”

mason's fingers worked expertly on your clit, and you couldn’t help but widen your legs. he certainly found it with ease, which is more than you can say for the guy you lost your virginity to. you lifted your hips and mason helped you wriggle free from the cotton restraint, and his mouth was watering at the thought of your bare, naked pussy. he wanted to scoot around and lick it.

“was he good, baby?” mason asked, lips nibbling along the outer shell of your ear. “did he touch your clit like this, hm? or did he -” with his free hand, mason rubbed at your nipples through your dress and bra, “- roll your nipples like this? hm?”

you wriggled around and let his fingers explore your body, itching to let him touch you more. “n-no, mason. he didn’t touch me like this.”

mason tutted, “come on, baby, what did he do?”

“he used me to make himself feel good,” you hummed, getting more and more used to the fact that he was swirling your clit around with his fingers, “i didn’t enjoy anything.”

“such a shame, darling. you're gonna be used to make me feel good, but i promise you’ll enjoy it because i know how to handle innocent little girls like you,” he kissed your neck, “i was hoping to be the first person to bury myself inside your pretty little cunt, but i'll just have to be the first to do everything else.” he chuckled lowly at the way your breath hitched, and when he slapped your clit it made you jolt.

“did he ever make you cum?”

you shook your head.

“n-no, mason.”

another clit slap.

“why are you slapping me?” you pouted, “have i done something wrong?”

the confusion was evident on your face. you couldn’t figure out why he was slapping you, and the crease between your eyebrows formed. mason’s hand moved from your chest to your chin and turned your face to his. “are you going to address me by my name like a good girl?”

the crease deepened and mason couldn’t help but laugh at you, and you frowned.

“w-what?”

“are you going to be a good girl for daddy?” your heart almost jumped out of your chest. your eyes grew a shade darker with lust and mason didn’t go unnoticed. he slapped your pussy again. “answer, princess.”

“d-daddy?” you questioned, and mason almost blew a load in his pants.

“mhm, yes princess. understood?”

you nodded your head. “yes, daddy. thank you, daddy.”

he rolled his eyes and released a groan, unable to suppress it any longer, and now he could feel a wet patch of pre-cum forming in his pants. “fucking hell, babygirl, you’re gonna be the death of me, aren’t you?” he shifted, and moved so you were now sitting against the headboard and he was staring down at you. he got down to his knees, the way his breath hitched when he was face to face with your pussy made your back tingle. “do you want me to eat this pretty little cunt?”

“uh.. uhm.. okay,” you hesitated. mason noticed and began to massage your thighs with his fingers, digging into the soft flesh. “i’ve never... um. nobody has ever...”

“relax, princess, i'll make you feel good. it's all part of daddy’s job to look after his little girl.”

a rush of blood swarmed to your clit and you moaned softly at his words. he was corrupting you already. he traced the cherries on the hem of your dress, “these are pretty fruits, baby, can you tell me what they are?”

he began to kiss your inner thighs in that moment.

“uhm, they’re cherries, d-daddy.”

“mhm, well done darling,” you wriggled when his teeth sunk into the flesh of your thigh, but he soon soothed the sting when his tongue ran over it, and it formed a pretty mark of his teeth, “tell you what, princess. if anything gets too much – today, or ever – in one of these situations, you just say cherries, just like the ones on your pretty dress.”

you nodded, but you were still confused. “why do i have to say cherries though?”

“because, baby, sometimes your brain won’t be working properly and you’ll need a distinct word that means stop, do you understand?” you nodded again, and mason’s fingers traced your pussy again. he wasn’t looking at you now, his attention had been drawn to your clit, red and aching, but he was still talking. “it’s easier for daddy to pick up on that word rather than stop, baby, because sometimes i won’t be listening. i need to make sure you’re safe.”

“w-why?” you could feel his fingers swirling around your inner lips and you fought every urge for a moan.

“because, you’re my submissive, and as your dominant, i have a duty of care over you.”

you shivered at that. your head was spinning so fast it felt like it was going to fall off. mason's tongue had darted out of his mouth and licked at your clit, you jolted, but he didn’t put it away. instead, wherever your hips dragged you, he followed, his lips never leaving your clit. his tongue flicked repetitively, and his lips suctioned around it, sucking at your clit as if he were drinking through a straw.

as you wriggled, mason's arms caged your hips down onto the bed, so now you were unable to wriggle away and you cried out his name in a weak, pathetic little moan. he pulled off of your clit with a pop, “oh, babygirl,” he tutted, “you can do better than that for me, can’t you? i know you can.”

he licked a teasing stripe up your pussy and delved around your hole, where his tongue slipped inside and you yelped, bucking your hips up into his face and crying out his name again. “oh, mason... oh.. fu- your tongue.. feels so good,” the sensation tingling away inside of you was one you’d never felt during sex before, and the pad of a tongue licking and lapping at your clit felt particularly strange. “oh.. god.”

mason used his hands to part your lips further, allowing his face to be buried deeper into you and your hands sprung to his hair. he hummed against your clit as he licked, nibbled and swirled his tongue, and the pleasure was almost unbearable. he bumped your clit with his nose when his tongue slipped back inside you again, and raised his eyes so he was looking directly into yours. the contact was almost too much, and the butterflies were beginning to get overwhelming. your orgasm was fast approaching.

he held your legs open further and pushed the hem of your dress up, so it rested at your bellybutton. you could see his nose and cheeks glistening with your wetness, and the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach had begun to travel south.

“d-d-daddy... i... i can... i'm all tingly... i think i'm gonna...”

mason pulled away from you right as you felt like the dam was going to open, and you whined, thrashing around in protest. he raised an eyebrow, “you need to ask daddy for permission to cum, little one,” he slapped the inside of your thigh and you winced, biting down on your bottom lip, “because your pretty little cunt is his, and you need to ask for permission to use something you don’t own.”

oh.

he lay there, waiting patiently.

“can i please cum, daddy?”

mason was satisfied with your plea, at least for now. he wasn’t going to have you begging until you cried this time. “of course, princess,” he hummed, delving back into your pussy. you mewled and he mumbled against your clit, “daddy’s pretty little cunt.”

with that, your orgasm hit you. you thrashed around at the feeling, lifting your hips off the bed. immediately, mason’s hands splayed under your bum, holding you up as he continued to eat like his last meal. you cried out, almost screaming at the sensation. becca always talked about her boyfriend doing this, and you never understood why she liked it so much – until now.

you tapped at mason’s head when you couldn’t take it anymore, and he pulled off of your clit with a pop. his entire chin glistened, and it ignited a fire in your eyes. arousal seeped through your veins, and mason couldn’t help but laugh against your lips when you sat up and pulled him closer by the collar of his knitted jumper.

in a bold move, your hand dropped to his crotch and you felt his dick, rock hard and straining his jeans. you blushed upon having the realisation that you’d never sucked anyone off before, and you were almost definitely about to suck off mason. that, and his dick felt fucking huge.

“what’s up, little one?”

mason pulled away from your lips and tucked the loose hair behind your ear, and you couldn’t help but bury your head into his neck. he hooked his hand under your cheek and lifted you up softly, looking deep into your eyes. there was a moment of peace, where he scanned your eyes for any discomfort, but you were determined to see it through.

“it feels... big.”

your cheeks felt hotter than the sahara desert by this point, and mason chuckled at your innocence.

“do you think so, babygirl?” he questioned, and his fingers curled around yours and made you squeeze at it. he groaned at the contact. “should we see if you’re right, hm?”

you nodded eagerly, and mason almost fainted when your eyes grew black with lust. he placed your hand firmly back into your lap, and he stood up to pull his shirt off. you almost drooled at the sight of his naked torso, and the tattoo’s scattered around it. he unlooped his belt effortlessly, and within seconds his jeans were tossed to the floor. his dick was so hard that the tip poked out from the waistband of his jeans, red and desperate for some attention.

he kept his eyes on yours to gage your reaction as he pulled down his boxers. you were right. it was huge. and thick. it inflated mason’s ego to triple the size it already was, and he loved how easy you were becoming, but this was only the tip of the iceberg. he wanted to make you his, and by the end of the night, he would make sure you were the only girl that he was corrupting.

“t-that’s supposed to fit... i-inside me?”

“mhm,” mason’s hand jacked himself off as he stood up at the edge of the bed, your head at the perfect height to suck. “it will, baby, and it will hurt, but i'll make it fit, you haven’t got to worry about a thing,” he pinched your cheek and you subconsciously smiled. commotion went on outside your bedroom door, one of your housemates was sneaking along the landing, and it caught your attention, but mason pulled your head back to face him with his finger hooked under your chin, “it’s not gonna suck itself, darling.”

you gulped. “i’ve... i haven’t... you're going to have to teach me, daddy.”

mason had to stop jacking himself off and pause for a moment in fear of ejaculating all over your face at the sentence that just left your mouth.

“okay, princess, but first you’ll need to take this off,” he ruffled the hem of your dress and you frowned, “don’t give me that look, babygirl. it's only fair.”

you hooked your arms out of your bra and dress all in one, and mason helped you step out of it steadily. his breath hitched when he saw you naked, drinking in the sight of your naked body. you'd never looked more beautiful, and he’d never been so desperate to be buried inside of someone.

he leaned down to kiss your lips, and then slid down onto the bed, so his head was at the pillows. you followed suite, kneeling down at his side. he guided your hand to his dick silently, and you giggled softly when he helped you move your hand up and down, “that’s good, baby,” he said, running his fingers up to your wrist to loosen the movement slightly, “now lean over so your mouth is hovering over it, and spit on the head.”

“t-the head?”

“the tip, baby, the tip,” mason chuckled at your innocence, and you did as he asked. spit hung from the tip of your outsplayed tongue and trickled down to the head of his penis. as you smeared it around with your hand, your thumb ran over the slit of his dick and he jolted, a groan tumbling from his lips. your eyes shot up to face him, looking like a dear in the headlights as you feared you did something wrong, but mason shook his head. “that’s good darling, so good. why don’t you – fuck – why don’t you try and take it in your mouth.”

you leaned down, so your lips were millimeters from his dick, and took a deep breath. you’d always envisioned doing this, and who it would be with, and none of your fantasies could ever compare to this.

your lips pursed around the head, taking just that into your mouth and looking up at mason through your eyelashes. he seemed to like that a lot judging by the way he looked down at you and nodded. “okay, little one, you’re doing such a good job,” he patted your head subconsciously, “now, alternate between bobbing your head, twisting your hand and running your tongue around the head. just get a feel for it, darling, okay? i don’t want to cum just yet.”

you nodded, and much to your surprise you enjoyed the compromising position you had been put in. mason made it feel so easy, so comfortable, and it made your heart flutter and your pussy throb. you began to bob your head gradually, taking more and more in with every move. mason admired your innocence and every time he remembered that his dick was the first one you’d had inside your mouth – your sweet, innocent, virgin mouth – he wanted to bust a load.

“oh god, yes, little one,” mason’s hand bunched your hair up in his hand out of habit, and you gagged around him as he thrusted up into your mouth ever so slightly, “you’re doing so well for me, got such a pretty little mouth.”

you moaned, and the vibrations sent shockwaves up his dick and all over his body. he thrusted up into your mouth and you gagged again, your eyes watering at the sensation but you liked it. “play with my – fuck – play with my balls, baby, just squeeze them gently,” mason cooed, smoothing your cheeks with his free hand, and you did as you were told, halting the movements of your hand stroking his dick so you could use it to stabilize you as you fondled his balls. he groaned loudly, “fuuuck, baby. that's it, such a good little girl.”

he thrusted up into your mouth again and this time spit came spluttering out of your mouth and landed along the prickly skin around his pubic bone. your eyes watered again, so much so that the tears soaked your eyelashes and mason lowered his hips. “you okay, baby? do you wanna stop?”

you nodded sheepishly. mason's dick fell from your mouth and the tip rested at his bellybutton. he noticed your knotted eyebrows, “what’s up, darling?”

“my mouth.. it tastes weird.”

he chuckled and couldn’t believe how innocent you were.

“that’s because it’s no longer a virgin mouth, little one. it's now forever tainted with the taste of my pre-cum,” he leaned over and kissed your lips, swiping his tongue across your bottom lip, “you’re going to be tainted with my taste forever now, baby. never getting rid of me.”

he used his strength to roll you over, so you were now laying with your head at the pillows. he admired how pretty you looked. anxiety pounded in your chest, and you suddenly got overwhelmed, but you knew it would pass, it was just nerves. mason noticed, and tucked some hair behind your ear.

“do you remember your word, darling?”

“cherries, daddy.”

“good girl,” he leaned down to kiss your lips, “if you want daddy to stop, you need to use that word, understood?”

“mhm,” you nodded, and leaned up to kiss him. he chuckled at your neediness. “there’s.. um... i have... in the bathroom cabinet.. there’s some... condoms.”

“daddy’s shy little girl wants him to fuck her, hm?”

you mewled underneath him and fought off a blush by buring your head in the pillows when his finger grazed between your folds, and you jolted at the sensitivity, “please, daddy, i... i... i need it. i need you.”

mason fought back the urge to fuck you raw.

“babygirl, listen to yourself beg for me,” he tutted, standing up and slipping on your dressing gown momentarily to go to the bathroom, “such a naughty little thing, hm? weren’t like this an hour ago. i've turned you into a little slut, haven’t i?”

the last part of the sentence was partially shouted as he wandered into the bathroom you shared with another housemate, and you could’ve died there and then. you only hoped everyone else was minding their own damn business.

he came back with a handful of condoms, and the dressing gown was tossed to the floor with the rest of the clothes. “go on, baby, say you’re daddy’s little slut,” he teased, “otherwise i'll leave you high and dry, begging for my cock all night.”

your cheeks heated up as you opened your mouth. mason stood there, cock on full display, waiting patiently. you took a breath, “you’ve turned me into a little slut, daddy.”

he made a satisfied hum noise and ripped the condom open with ease. you watched as he rolled it on and he climbed back on the bed, the sheer touch of his skin on yours leaving you with goosebumps. his fingers ran through your folds again and your wetness was enough.

his hand outstretched your leg, so it was out at an angle to the side while the other was bent at the knee draped over his shoulder. you moaned at the feeling of being poked and prodded so he could get you exactly how he wanted you.

you squirmed with anticipation as mason guided himself to your pussy, and when he slipped inside you let out a strangled, desperate moan. every time you thought his dick was fully inside of you, you were proved wrong, and with the angle of your legs, he only penetrated you deeper. he groaned at your tightness and the way his dick seemed to slot perfectly inside you.

“fuck, little one,” his pubic bone hit your skin and he successfully buried himself to the hilt inside of you. “your cunt is so wet and tight, fits me so well, like it was made for me.”

you mewled at his words and attempted to buy your head in the pillows beside you but mason grabbed your chin with his hand and forced you to look at him above you. he pulled out and pushed back in the whole way once again. “don’t you ever look away,” his fingers squeezed at your cheeks and moved down your face until they gripped at your neck, “daddy always wants to see the way your eyes roll back when he hits -” mason raised his hips up so the angle of his hips changed ever so slightly and he smirked when your eyes rolled back with a moan of his name, “that spot. such a naughty little girl.”

“mhm,” you mumbled, already feeling a pressure building between your hips, “your naughty little girl, daddy.”

“fuckin’ right,” mason's fingers squeezed your neck in approval, “daddy’s dirty little girl, you’re filthy, aren’t you?”

you could feel him hitting so deep inside of you and the way his hips slowed with each pull out had you on the verge of screaming. your headboard began to thud dully against the wall and you couldn’t help but let out a long, drawn out moan.

“gonna wake up the house if you keep moaning like a whore, baby,” mason cooed, pushing himself forward so the stretch in your legs began to sting and the angle of his dick grew deeper, “i can feel you clenching my dick, darling. such a tight little pussy.”

your hands gripped at his shoulders and mason’s head dropped between your bodies so he could watch himself slipping in and out of your pussy. the angle of your body underneath him was driving him insane and he couldn’t help it when a moan slipped past his lips.

the closer you got to an orgasm, the louder you became, and it only spurred mason on further. he was itching to get you cumming, and so when his fingers brushed your clit and you almost screamed in pleasure, he smirked. you were almost positive that savannah and becca could hear the entire thing from their rooms on the bottom floor.

“d-daddy...”

mason smiled, thumb pulling at your bottom lip. “yes, little one?”

“i’m gonna cum,” you cried, arching your back up off the bed, “please, daddy.”

mason tutted. you were going to have to beg a lot better than that.

“come on, darling, you can beg better than that,” he left a kiss to your jawline, “i know you turn into a mindless whore when you’re being fucked, but that was pathetic.”

you squeaked and clenched around his dick again. your body was in overdrive and with every thrust it felt like you were going to explode.

“d-daddy... please,” you choked, throat running dry, “p-please, i need to cum, i'll do anything, p-please, daddy.”

“you’ll do anything? oh, darling. i wouldn’t say something like that if you don’t mean it.”

“please, i’m so close,” you were panting now, fighting off your orgasm with every passing second. mason leaned down to kiss your lips hotly, pulling your lip between his teeth and biting down so hard he almost drew blood, “please.”

your begging attempt was satisfactory. for now.

“go on then, darling,” he drawled, “cum for daddy like a good girl.”

you couldn’t help the scream that left your mouth, and your orgasm shook your body so hard that it left your limbs twitching. this orgasm seemed to be more fulfilling, and lasted longer than the others you’d had this evening. your clenching pussy triggered mason’s orgasm, and despite the fact he came into the condom, you could still feel the heat of his cum inside of you.

it was only when you noticed the wet sheets underneath your bum and mason’s wet torso that your eyebrows furrowed.

“fucking hell, little one,” mason groaned, pulling out of you and looking down at the seeping sheets, “look at the mess you’ve made.”

“what happened...? what did i do?”

it had only just dawned on mason that you were completely clueless. this was the first time you’d ever squirted.

“you just wet the bed, babygirl,” he rolled to the side of you and your eyebrows furrowed, “daddy fucked you so well and so deep that you squirted.”

he admired the way your eyes widened, and he smirked. if he wasn’t sure about keeping you in his life before, he was definitely going to keep you around now. you yawned, completely and utterly exhausted from the night’s events, and mason pushed the sweaty hair out of your face, “we need to get you clean, sweetheart.”

“mm, tired,” was all you could say, fighting off a yawn, “just wanna sleep.”

mason stood up and slipped your dressing gown back over his shoulders. your eyelids continued to flutter, and you would’ve fallen asleep had he not have handed you his shirt and boxers, “come on, darling, you need to clean yourself up,” you sighed but obeyed his words, pulling the shirt over your head, “i’ll help you put fresh sheets on too, okay?”

his hand looped through yours as he guided you to your bathroom, and your eyebrows furrowed again. mason began to run the water and you sat on the toilet seat. “you’re helping?” you asked, scrunching your nose, “i thought you were just going to leave.”

mason laughed. you really were clueless, and it was adorable to him.

“you really think i'd fuck you like that and then just walk away?” mason raised an eyebrow, and once again, the thought dawned on him that that’s exactly what happened to you after your first time. that was all you’d ever known. “oh, sweetheart, no, i wouldn’t ever do that to you.”

he tested the temperature of the water with the tips of his fingers, and helped you wriggle out of his shirt as you stepped into it. he kissed your forehead as you rested your arms on the side of the bath.

“pack a bag and come to my house next weekend,” he said nonchalantly, and suddenly, all your exhaustion had dissipated, “please.”

“y-you want me to...”

“i’m not asking you, y/n,” his stern bedroom voice had returned and it sent shivers down your spine, “i’m telling you.”

your heart settled in your chest and he smiled against your lips when you leaned over the bath and kissed him. “i’ll stay at yours if you stay here.”

“i wasn’t planning on going anywhere, darling,” he kissed your nose, “you’re going to get sick of me.”

you smiled.

“impossible.”

#mason mount #mason mount x oc #mason mount x yn #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #mason mount x you #mason mount smut #mason mount fluff #mason mount one shot #mason mount fanfic #mason mount drabble #mason mount fic #mason mount imagine #footballer x you #footballer x yn #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n #football smut

2K notes · View notes

traveler-at-heart · 11 months

Text

Game, Set, Match

Summary: Natasha Romanoff is a professional tennis player, struggling to go back to the top and win the US Open. Reluctant at first, she allows a sports journalist into her life... and a bit more.

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R - Ya know it, fluffy af.

A/N: I love tennis and this was basically written for me. But @canvascoloredin is also a fan and thought, ok well, let's post it, maybe someone else will enjoy :)

“Thirty all”

She’s catching up, do something.

“Forty, thirty”

“Deuce”

“Come on, Natasha” her sister yells from the box.

Advantage, Romanoff.

Game, set, match. Natasha Romanoff.

Everything that happens after is a blur. Natasha feels like she just played the final, but in reality, it’s just the first round.

“Way to go, darling” her mother compliments when she’s back in the locker rooms, but Fury is quickly behind, not holding back.

“Three sets against an amateur and you won because she got nervous and got a double fault. That’s not good”

“I beat her, didn’t I?” Natasha averts her eyes, putting on her jacket to go to the press room.

“Barely” her trainer mumbles.

Natasha’s heart beats fast as she sits in front of all the journalists. They were warned about the questions they could ask, but still. Natasha feels all eyes on her, judging her reaction and demeanor.

“Did you worry about losing control at the start of the third set?” a man in the front row asks.

“It was the defining moment of the game, so I felt like I had to push myself harder and control the rhythm of the match. Which obviously happened”

“How was it to go back after your break? Unlike other players, you didn’t participate in any tournaments between Wimbledon and this”

“I’ve been playing tennis all my life, really, so it doesn’t feel like a big deal to me. Just because I wasn’t playing to win titles doesn’t mean I didn’t train”

Natasha hears Fury cough and has to resist the urge to roll her eyes.

Control your temper, he’s trying to say.

Well, maybe they shouldn’t ask stupid questions.

You’re sitting in the middle of the press room, eyes trained on Natasha. She’s looking anywhere but you.

I guess this means she read my column.

The conference is coming to an end, so you raise your hand and the assistant points at you.

“We have time for one more” he concedes.

“That’s enough for today” Natasha shuts it down before you can ask.

Yeah, she definitely read the article.

Natasha can’t wait to get out of there, thanking the press before sprinting out of the room. You consider following her, but a text from your boss stops you.

Go to LA Stadium, Wanda Maximoff just bageled some poor girl.

With a bit of luck, you’ll get an exclusive with Wanda.

The biggest crime of Shostakov

It was a Tuesday afternoon, well into the second week of Wimbledon, when the news broke out. Alexei Shostakov, retired tennis player, was arrested for fraud and tax evasion. While in custody, it was discovered Shostakov was in possession of drugs.

The famous Red Guardian, who once had won on that very same club, was now dragged away in a patrol car, stripped of his days of glory. For people who are well versed in the history of tennis, this doesn’t come as a complete shock. Shostakov was a notorious trouble maker, often breaking rackets, ripping his shirts open and getting expelled from a total of 15 matches during the entire run of his career.

No one seemed more affected by the news than his protegee and adoptive daughter, Natasha Romanoff. The favorite to win the world’s most important Grand Slam retired amid the breaking news. As a result, Wanda Maximoff’s path to the trophy was an easy one, taking the number 1 from Romanoff while she was at it.

If her career depends on Alexei’s ability to get back on his feet, Natasha Romanoff should retire now.

In her best form, Romanoff is stealthy, precise and absolutely lethal. Her movements reminisce those of a ballerina; one that gracefully dances across the court -doesn’t matter if it’s grass, clay or hard- to deliver blow after blow of brilliance. Natasha has raw talent, pure heart and an unbreakable spirit.

The biggest crime of Shostakov, is that he’s in the way of her greatness. Maybe it’s his ego or a compulsion to attach himself to a woman who has the capacity to break every record from the Open Era.

Whatever the reason, it’s clear she’s better off without him. For those of us who love this sport, and want Natasha to be the champion she was meant to be, this is an unique opportunity to watch her finally emerge from the shadows of the overbearing man.

The proverbial ball is in Romanoff’s court. In all her brilliance, the one thing Natasha rarely does is take risks.

It’s never too late to start.

“We’re finishing the second day of the US Open and we have some major upsets. Carol Danvers, number 3 in the world and only American in the top ten lost to Brit Peggy Carter” you say, holding the mic and looking at the camera.

“I understand there was some excitement on the man’s singles” you hear Maria say on your earpiece and you nod.

“Queens had a face off with Brooklyn today. Bucky Barnes defeated amateur Peter Parker, but get this! They played five sets, and Peter won every tiebreak. So it seems like we have some exciting new talent”

“We’ll keep an eye on him, for sure. Thanks for the report, Y/N!”

“A pleasure as usual, Maria. Greetings to everyone back on the studio”

“And cut” Darcy, your producer says. You remove the earpiece and hand over the mic. As you turn around, you spot Natasha training. It’s obvious you’re staring when Darcy speaks.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, you know? You wrote what a lot of people were thinking”

“Well, seems like she doesn’t wanna hear it”

“It’s fine. I mean, it would be better if we could get a quote from her or an interview but if she hates you that much we can get someone else to do it”

“Or, I could go and try to talk to her?”

“So you have a death wish!”

“Didn’t you just say I did nothing wrong?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean she’ll listen. I am also legally obligated to tell you that your health insurance doesn’t cover injuries caused by tennis balls. Or rackets”

“Very funny”

“Relax your wrist” Fury instructs once again and Natasha ignores him, as usual.

She hates the press, the interviews, the hoops she has to jump through just so she can play tennis.

None of it is optional and she has to follow the rules, something Natasha is particularly bad at.

“If you want to move to the next round you’re gonna have to listen to me”

Does she really want to move to the next round? Is there a point to all of this? She had lost her number one ranking and people were focusing more on her private life than her career.

Fury spots you across the court and smiles.

You nod your head towards the man and he sighs, defeated.

“Can you talk some sense into her?”

“Can anyone?” you say and he pats you on the back, leaving the court. The sun is setting and people are going home, ready to return tomorrow to watch the next round of players. You greet Natasha but she ignores you.

“You owe me a question” you try to joke, as she keeps hitting the ball so hard you think her racket will break in half.

“I know who you are and I’m not talking to you”

She looks hot when she’s pissed.

You push those thoughts away.

“Natasha”

“No, you and I are not on a first name basis. Not after you wrote all that crap about me without knowing me”

“I only spoke the truth”

“That my career is doomed and I should retire?” she finally stops throwing balls across the court and turns to look at you.

“Oh, my God! You didn’t even read it, did you?”

“I don’t need to. I know what everyone's been saying ever since Alexei was arrested. I know he was unconventional, but he was my trainer. He was beside me through the good and bad”

“I get it, ok? He’s your family. And your trainer. That’s never easy and I understand how it can be hard to see things objectively. But, Natasha, you are great in spite of him, not because of him”

That makes her pause.

“Nick Fury came out of retirement to train you. That’s how talented you are!”

The redhead serves a couple of times, staying completely silent.

“I’m not talking to you” she reminds you.

“You’re the best player out there, Natasha. And right now you’re the only thing getting in the way of your success”

Morning comes and so does the next match. Natasha is looking out the window of the suite, as people come and go around the busy streets of the tennis center.

Fury steps in, immediately aware of her nervous energy. If he asks if she’s ready, she’ll probably rip his head off. So, talking about something different might be the way to go.

“Her father was also a sports journalist,” he says, pouring himself a glass of orange juice.

“Who?”

“Y/N. Richard was a single parent, so he’d always bring her to the games, even as a baby. She behaved better than most people too”

“Is he retired?”

“Nope. Cancer. Four years ago” Fury sits in front of Natasha. “Didn’t expect her to follow his steps, but that girl really knows sports. She’s working with the local station, and also writes for Sports Illustrated”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Never hurts to have a couple of friends around,” he says, sipping from his glass.

“I’m not good at making friends” Natasha looks away.

“Yeah, I know. You’re good at tennis, so…” the man checks his watch and stands up. “Let’s kick some ass”

Natasha has to face Kate Bishop, currently ranked 24. Her game is the opposite of aggressive, but she’s famous for her impeccable aim. Natasha has to control the game from the start if she wants to win.

She serves first, and as she bounces the ball, preparing her stance, Fury’s words echo in her head. All the advice he has given her for the past months, advice that she has consistently ignored.

Then, as she throws the ball, her eyes meet yours. You’re sitting in the front row, leaning forward.

In a split second, she makes a decision.

Natasha is ready to take risks.

She aims for the corner of the service box, hoping it will fall inside. Kate lunges forward, shocked at the speed of the ball.

“Ace” the umpire announces. “Fifteen love”

Natasha sees you clapping and can hear Fury shouting “That’s it, you can do this, Romanoff”

And boy, does she deliver. Kate is running across the court. Natasha’s unforced errors are incredibly low. While the crowd usually loves long games, the redhead is a legend and they’re excited to see her prowess first hand.

The game ends in 47 minutes, 6-3, 6-2.

Kate approaches the net and shakes Natasha’s hand.

“That was… incredible, Romanoff”

“Thank you, Kate”

The kind words and the genuine admiration make Natasha relax instantly.

Of course, the crowd goes wild as the redhead lifts her arms, clapping and waving.

She’s in such a good mood that she decides she’ll finally take your question. But as she enters the press room, you’re nowhere to be found.

Still, she chats and even jokes around with the journalists present.

Once again, the entire family celebrates as if Natasha had already won the Grand Slam.

“Seestra, the crowd was going craaaazy, it was like a Taylor Swift concert” Yelena tells her excitedly as they eat. Natasha’s starving, so nervous about today that she didn’t even have breakfast.

They keep chatting, talking about strategy for the next game and wondering who will go against Natasha next.

“Natalia, your father wants to talk to you” Melina interrupts, holding her phone.

“Why?” Natasha snaps, going back to her stoic self.

“He wants to congratulate you,” the woman insists.

“I’m not in the mood. Excuse me” she stands up, losing her appetite.

Out on the terrace, she watches people passing by, trying to think of anything else but Alexei.

Your words come back to her, and she starts to believe them.

You are great in spite of him.

“Hey, there you are!” you shout from the bottom of the stairs, waving. “Do you have a sec?”

Natasha nods, going down.

“First of all, wow. Brava”

“You wanted something?” she rolls her eyes, but you notice she blushes lightly.

It’s quite the view, Natasha’s body covered in sweat from the physical exertion, her sculpted arms in full display.

That tennis outfit looks really good on her.

“Oh.. yeah. Do you, uh, have time to meet a fan? She’s a little girl and you’re her favorite player”

“Of course”

“Awesome, come with me!” you take her by the hand.

Natasha tries to ignore the tingling feeling she gets as she’s dragged around the center. Some people recognise her, but you’re walking fast and they don’t have the chance to stop her for a picture.

“Hey, Ava!” you greet the little girl, who’s holding a big tennis ball and a black marker. “Natasha, meet Ava. She’s your number one fan”

“Hi,” the girl says shyly. She’s about nine, her mother standing next to her and smiling.

“Hi, Ava. It’s so nice to meet you” Natasha greets. “How are you liking the tournament so far?”

“Uh, it was great, and you were so awesome today!”

“Thank you, I really appreciate it. Would you like me to sign that?”

“Yes, please!” her arms shoot forward, anxiously.

“What other players would you like to meet?” Natasha says, as she signs the ball.

“Maybe Peter Parker… We met Carol Danvers, Bucky Barnes and also, Wanda”

Yeah, Natasha didn’t miss the way Maximoff signed the ball.

From the number 1 player to the number 1 fan.

So pretentious.

“That’s nice,” Natasha says, handing the ball back.

“Alright, let’s take a picture” you pull out your phone. Natasha kneels to be closer to Ava, and then places her tennis hat on the girl’s head.

“You can have it” Natasha smiles and is surprised when she gets a very enthusiastic hug. Her mother has to practically drag her away from where you’re standing, Ava turning around every couple of steps to wave at Natasha.

“Thank you, Nat,” you say, smiling.

“It’s not a problem. I didn’t see you in today’s press conference”

“That’s because it’s my day off” you say, surprised that she noticed your absence.

“What about that thing?” she points at the badge hanging from your neck that reads Press.

“That’s how I get in for free, duh”

“Sneaky”

“I can be” you shrug your shoulders and then turn back to your phone. “Hey, so can I send this to your PR team for them to post it?”

“You don’t have to”

“Fine, I’ll post it on my feed and tag you. Alright, gotta go. Have to cheer for Bucky” you say, taking her hand one last time. “Once again, thank you. And congrats. You were fantastic”

“I owe you a question” she calls when you’re walking away.

“I’m saving it for when you win the championship” you wink and she smiles, scratching the side of her neck nervously.

Later that day, her phone is blasting with notifications.

“Almost one million likes, Natasha” Yelena shows her the picture you uploaded of her and Ava.

“Is that good or bad?” the redhead shrugs her shoulders and her sister rolls her eyes.

“You’re so uncool!”

However, she knows enough about Instagram to find your profile, going through your feed. Most of the pictures are from different games, some hangout with friends, the most frequent ones being Barnes and a pro that plays for the Yankees, Sam Wilson.

She’s about to close the app when two things that are equally horrible happen.

First, she likes one of your pictures from two years ago.

Second, she gets a message.

OfficialWandaMaximoff: Congrats on your win today <3

Bucky just lost the second set and is down on the third one. You keep refreshing the feed as you wait next to other journalists for Wanda Maximoff.

Of course she’s in the quarter finals, that’s hardly a shock. Everyone’s waiting for her to face Natasha in the finals. When it happens, you’re obviously rooting for Nat.

Speaking of which…

@SportsBrooklyn: Good luck tomorrow!

@NatashaROfficial followed you back

@NatashaROfficial: Do you only use Instagram or can you text like a normal person?

@SportsBrooklyn: Oh, right, text you to the number I don’t have!

Wanda walks in that moment and you lock your phone. Her auburn hair is tied in a high ponytail, and she changed to her signature red windbreaker and black pants.

You’re busy taking notes when your phone pings again. To your surprise, Natasha actually gave you her phone number.

@NatashaROfficial: If you share it with anyone else I’ll choke you

@SportsBrooklyn: Kinky ;)

The press conference ends and you practically sprint out to see if you can catch the rest of Bucky’s game.

You have to settle for the screens on the Champions Bar, comforted by the fact that Bucky seems to be ahead on the third set. As soon as he wins it, you stand up, knowing the break is the perfect time to slip into the player’s box.

“I’m so sorry” you say as you crash into none other than Wanda Maximoff. She grabs your arm to steady herself, smiling to ease you.

“That’s alright. You’re in a hurry?” she says, turning at the screen.

“A bit, yeah”

“I wish someone as cute as you was rooting for me” she smiles, placing a strand of hair behind her ear. She’s flirting? Oh boy. “I noticed you looking at your phone during the press conference. Barnes is a lucky guy”

“Oh, we’re not…”

“Here I was thinking he was smarter than that”

There’s a sense of urgency to go before the break is over, but you’re also completely confused. Why is Wanda Maximoff taking an interest in a local reporter? You’re vaguely aware that her eyes drift somewhere behind you from time to time, but before you can turn and have a look, she pulls your press badge and smiles.

“If you ever want an exclusive, just let me know, Y/N…” she reads the name from your press badge and walks away, leaving you completely confused.

Natasha watches the entire interaction from her small table. She needed a break so she decided to put on a hat and glasses, to get a drink without being recognised.

Wanda was all over you, giggling and looking Natasha’s way as much as she could, to let her know this was entirely to upset her.

All Natasha wanted to do was stand up and take you away from Wanda. You were too good for someone like Maximoff.

Wanda thought she was making Natasha jealous.

She was right, but not in the way she would have wanted to.

“Maybe it’s time I retire”

“You’re 28”

“Might as well be 100 in tennis years”

“Buck” you nudge him.

You’re looking out the Brooklyn Bridge, trying to cheer up your best friend after losing in the round of 16.

“You won the Australian Open this year”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. See? I’m senile” he mumbles, still grumpy.

“You did great, and you’re still in the top five, Grumpa. Ha! See what I did there?” he rolls his eyes and you smile, pulling him back to the street. “Come on, Sam is waiting for us to have some lunch”

“Ok, but it’s on you because I’ll be broke once I retire”

“Yeah, yeah” you roll your eyes, looping your arms together and dragging him to your favorite dinner. Sam’s already there, chatting around with everyone that recognises him.

All eyes turn to you as he stands up and practically shouts.

“How’s my favorite girl?” Sam greets you and then slaps Bucky’s shoulder. “Don’t make that face, man. You won the aussie one”

“That’s what I told him”

Bucky takes his jacket off and orders a beer as soon as the waiter approaches you; even if it’s only noon, you let it slide.

You get a text from Darcy, asking if you’re watching the game.

Your mind instantly goes to Natasha. Did she lose? No, that can’t be. She was playing against Van Dyne, who was only there because of a wild card. You turn to one of the screens and ask the waiter to change the channel.

“She’s winning” you say, still not understanding what Darcy meant.

“Why does she look so upset, then?” Sam points out.

Natasha is arguing with the umpire. You recognise him immediately.

“I hate that guy,” Bucky says, echoing your thoughts.

“Jarvis… something. Stone?”

“Yeah, a total asshole. Wouldn’t give me a point I clearly won on Wimbledon because the other player was also a Brit”

The argument ends and she keeps playing. Her forehand is killer today.

“Wow” Bucky says at the same time as you gasp.

“Man, I feel so dumb right now” Sam is looking between both of you, not knowing what caused your reaction.

“Just now? It’s more like, always” Bucky teases and Sam glares. He rolls his eyes and points at the screen. “Van Dyne hit after a double bounce. That’s not allowed. But Stone clearly doesn’t give a shit. He’s giving her the point”

“Natasha stopped playing because she saw it. He claims he didn’t so in his mind, she lost this one” you keep explaining.

“If Hope had a little bit of integrity, she’d concede the point or play it again”

“Well, she’s losing so she’ll take all the help she can get” you say.

Natasha’s rage fuels her after this and she ends up winning, the second set a devastating 6-0.

However, the two men on the screen are being unsurprisingly critical of her. Your stomach turns when you hear the words “emotional” and “aggressive” thrown around.

Even if it’s a long shot, you try calling her. Phone’s off.

If you’re lucky, you’ll manage to see her once you get back to the stadium.

“Turn it off,” Natasha grumbles. Fury is watching the news in the living room.

“I wanna see the highlights of other players. Prepare for what’s coming next. If you don’t like it, leave the room” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand.

After the game, Natasha did the mandatory press conference, went back to the lockers, destroyed two rackets, took a shower and then looked out the window for the better part of the day.

She wasn’t in the mood to do anything and she didn’t want to turn on her phone. The temptation to read what the press and public had to say about her after today’s argument with the umpire was too big.

“Y/N, how are things at the US Open?” Maria Hill says. The screen splits, your image appearing on the right side.

“Exciting names on both sides for the semis. We have Thor against Banner, and T'Challa faces Namor for a spot in the semis. As for the ladies, Maximoff breezed through the match against Jean Gray”

“Well, I understand Romanoff didn’t have it so easy,” Maria says.

From her seat, Natasha holds her breath. Yelena walks in at that exact moment, watching her sister closely.

“You know, I find it unbelievable that an umpire at the US Open could make such a poor call, not once but twice. First, with the hindrance call against Natasha and then by completely ignoring the double bounce before Van Dyne hit the ball” you say, clearly upset. “We’ve seen time and time again that some umpires are not up to the standards set by Grand Slams. And to my fellow journalists who like to throw around words like emotional, better save that energy for the men that smash their rackets just because they lost a point. As we all saw, Romanoff was in her right to demand fairness and she did it with the utmost respect”

“Yes, I completely agree with you” Maria nods, clearly regretting even asking about it. “Well, let us chat tomorrow after we have the final for the men”

“Of course, Maria,” you nod.

Natasha tries really hard, but she can’t help but smile at your words.

Yelena arches her eyebrows.

Well, this is interesting.

Natasha refuses to leave her room, arguing she’s not hungry. Melina, Yelena and Fury leave her alone, but the sudden silence becomes too much. There’s no noise to stop her thoughts from spiraling.

With a sigh, she turns on her phone. Two messages come through.

Y/N: Sorry about today. That umpire sucks :(

Y/N: Bucky hates him too

Next thing she sees is a picture of Bucky and you holding your middle fingers to the screen with Jarvis’ face. Natasha chuckles at that.

She also zooms in, checking that your other hand is very close to Bucky’s. She feels a pang of jealousy that is interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Room service” a strange voice says.

“I didn’t order any..:” she says, but finds you smiling on the other side of the door.

“Gotcha”

“What are you doing here?” the redhead can’t help but smile. You’re wearing a black leather jacket, a white tee and skin tight jeans. She’s torn between admiring your figure and paying attention to what you say next.

“Little bird told me you were very upset and you might need a distraction”

“I’m gonna kill Fury”

“Not Nick. Your sister. And are we gonna find something to eat by standing here or…?”

“I’m not hungry”

“We’re going, Natasha. Go get changed” you push past her, tired of waiting around in the hallway. She’s taken aback by your forwardness. Her mother and sister would usually let her get away with anything.

“Where are we going?” she asks, hoping you won’t go all the way to her room and pick an outfit for her.

“Something casual will do”

She changes as fast as she can, taking her phone and some money with her. You nod approvingly and then open the door, peeking around the hallway.

“This little field trip is not Fury approved so let’s be discreet about it” you inform her, taking her hand to lead the way to the elevator.

“Oh, yeah, this is super discreet” Natasha complains as you lead her to an electrical carriage.

“Have a little fun, why don’t you?” you climb up, offering your hand. She takes and sits next to you. Natasha resists the urge to put a strand of hair behind your ear as you lean forward to give the address.

You feel her eyes on you, so you turn back, smiling and blushing lightly.

It’s a short ride, and soon after you enter a small diner.

“Hey, Y/N” the owner greets you. “My, this must be a special occasion” she leans towards Natasha and whispers. “She’s never brought a girl over”

“Ok, Pat! Natasha is just a friend” you clarify, blushing in the process. Natasha laughs at you.

“Why? She’s pretty. You need to start dating” Pat says, leaving two menus.

“Don’t bother” you stop Natasha as she starts reading it. “She’ll bring us whatever she wants. But it will be worth it, I promise”

“Do you come here often?”

“My dad couldn’t cook if his life depended on it. But he was always good at finding the best spots to eat. So we came here all the time during the US Open and then later when Bucky started training”

Natasha nods and looks away.

“So, you’re not dating Barnes either?” she says, looking anywhere but you. It’s embarrassing how much she cares.

“Uh.. no. He’s like a brother to me. His parents worked a lot so he’d tag along to games with us, and we grew up together” you wait until she turns to look at you. “Can I ask now?”

“Is this off the record?”

“Do you see my press badge anywhere?”

“One never knows with you people”

“Ouch, Natasha” the redhead laughs but you ask anyway. “Are you dating anyone? You’ve never been public about it”

“I’m not, no. I just don’t think I’d be able to find the balance. Between tennis and a partner. And my public and private life”

“Fair enough” you say. Pat approaches with milkshakes, cheeseburgers and fries.

“I hope you girls are hungry”

“Starving”

“Fury’s gonna kill me” Natasha sighs, but then dips a fry in the milkshake and practically moans at the taste.

Your mouth is hanging wide open, and your teeth clash at how fast you shut it when Natasha turns to you.

“You’re right, this is worth it”

The rest of the night is spent eating and talking about everything but tennis. You learn that Natasha likes to bake in her free time, and that Yelena is taking a sabbatical before moving to New York to study at NYU.

After finishing your food, you both agree that walking back will be the best idea.

“I’m so full” you complain as you enter through the back, too scared to be caught by Fury. Natasha walks in the opposite direction of the foyer. “Uh, what are you doing? I don’t want your coach all over my ass if you’re missing”

“Have a little fun, why don’t you?” she echoes your words from before and you have no choice but to follow her. You end up on a tennis court, balls scattered around the floor.

“Do you practice here?”

“If I can’t sleep” Natasha picks up a ball and a racket and hands it to you.

“Can I help you?”

“Play with me”

“I can’t even serve, Natasha”

“Well, would you like to learn?” she says with a smirk and you can’t resist it.

“Fine. But after that, you go back to your room”

“Stance first” Natasha instructs. She corrects your posture and movements a couple of times, inching closer until she’s whispering instructions in your ear. The last thing she does is put her hands over yours to make sure your grip is tight. “Show me what you got”

She steps away and you miss her presence instantly. Trying to remember everything she told you, you toss the ball in the air and swing a little too hard. You trip over your own feet, but Natasha moves forward and catches you before you fall.

“You ok?” she says and you nod.

“How did I do, coach?” you steady yourself, holding her close to you. Your eyes travel to her lips, and you’re both out of breath from laughing.

Neither one can tell who leans first, but the fact is that you do and you discover, with great pleasure and no surprise, that Natasha is an excellent kisser. Her lips are soft against yours and she pulls you closer by your waist.

“Is this a new way of interviewing people, Y/L/N?”

Oh, shit.

You break apart and turn to Fury, who looks very much not impressed.

“The only cardio you’re allowed to do until this slam is over is at the gym, Romanoff. Back to your room, now”

“I’m not a little girl you can boss around,” Natasha protests.

“Come on, you should rest. We’ll talk later” you don’t want her to start arguing with Fury, not now that she’s finally listening to him. Natasha turns to you and nods, squeezing your hand one last time before going back to the hotel.

“I don’t want her distracted,” Fury says and you nod.

“I wasn’t trying to… I won’t get in her way, Nick. I want her to win”

“Glad we understand each other. Now go home”

He turns to leave and you wait for a little bit, trying to calm down after a mindblowing kiss. As you’re about to leave, you spot a yellow bracelet on the ground. You’ve seen Natasha wearing one before, but you’re too scared of Fury to go back now.

Tomorrow will be a new day for all of you.

“Keep your leg behind the ball” Fury instructs. Natasha has been listening to every single thing he says.

Yes, she’s nervous about the semis. And Fury’s the only one that can understand the feeling or help her play better.

“I want you focused,” he says as she walks to dry her hands.

“I am”

“You know what I mean” he says and as if on cue, you walk up to the court, waving. Natasha places the racket down and approaches you. “Practice isn’t over, Romanoff!”

“Five minutes” she asks, meeting you on the edge of the court.

“Hi”

“Hi” she says back. Her eyes go down to your lips and your heart flutters.

“Uh, you left… I think this is yours” you remember to speak, showing the yellow bracelet.

“Yes, thank you. Do you mind?” Natasha extends her hand and you put it around her wrist. “Yelena gave it to me before my first match. It’s my lucky charm”

“Well, good thing I saw it”

“Maybe you’ll be my next lucky charm”

“Oh? Am I supposed to be at every game from now on?” you smile, nodding when you’re done with the bracelet.

“I really wanna kiss you” Natasha blurts out and you blush. “But…”

“There are people watching and Fury doesn’t look happy either”

“He never does. Can I call you later?”

“Yes, you definitely can”

You want to kiss her so bad, damn it.

“Come on, go back, before Fury kicks me out of the court”

Natasha nods, squeezing your hand gently.

The way Natasha looks at you makes you all kinds of flustered, so you leave in a hurry before your desire takes over and you end up kissing her in front of all these people.

Once again, you run into Wanda Maximoff, only this time she doesn’t smile at all.

“She’s quite the player, right?” she says with a cold voice, her accent a bit thicker.

“Uh- yes. Natasha is a very talented pro”

“Oh, that’s not what I meant” she takes a step forward and looks you up and down. “Natasha likes to fuck around. But she always comes back to me”

“You’re… together?” your heart drops. Natasha wouldn’t lie to you about this.

Would she?

“Look, of course she wants to get distracted and she’ll use anyone that is dumb enough to fall for it. But don’t forget, she and I have history. And that’s stronger than whatever it is you think you have with Natasha”

No one is around to save you from this horrible conversation. You don’t want to argue with Wanda, because you’re still a journalist and it’s your job to be on the players’ good side.

But the reckless part of you wants to tell her to fuck off.

You sigh and look down. Wanda takes this as a sign of defeat and smiles, leaving you standing there.

It takes a minute for you to snap out of it, and you look around, desperate to walk away from everything that just happened.

—

“You’re seriously telling me you know nothing?” you ask Bucky for the tenth time.

“I don’t pay attention to rumors” he shrugs his shoulders, and you roll your eyes at him.

He’s sitting on your couch, the movie long forgotten. You nudge him with your foot and glare.

“Your best friend is a journalist, you should know better. You’re my insider into this crap”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m just not on the loop of who dates who on the women’s side. But I am not surprised Wanda scared you. Heard she can be batshit crazy”

“She didn’t scare me” you mumble. The both of you sit in silence for a while, until your phones ping simultaneuosly.

Thankfully, it’s not Nat. Right now, you don’t even know what to say to her.

“Sam. Probably to brag about his date in that fancy restaurant” Bucky tells you, but his eyes widen as he reads the message. “Wow. You need to look at this”

He hands you the phone and you read the conversation. It’s your group chat and Sam just sent a picture of Jarvis Stone, who is having dinner with none other than Wanda Maximoff.

“What the actual fu…”

“So that’s why he was being a dick to Natasha” Bucky says. “You’re not telling her about this, are you?”

“No, of course not. She has the semis tomorrow and I don’t want to distract her”

You look at your phone and press send before you chicken out.

Y/N: Can we talk tomorrow?

YBelova: Sure

—

You’re waiting by the entrance to Arthur Ashe, looking around. Even if Maximoff’s match is later, you are still dreading to spot Wanda.

“Hey” Yelena says and you jump like a coward. “Wow, relax, it’s me”

“I’m sorry to be meeting you like this. I didn’t want to bother Natasha, especially today… she has enough on her plate”

“It’s ok, you can trust me”

“I know I can… it’s not easy to ask this, but do you know if Wanda and Natasha had a… thing? Like a relationship”

“Are you asking as a journalist?” the blonde says, clearly on edge.

“No, it’s not like that! Natasha and I… we kissed. And then Wanda told me yesterday that Natasha is just fooling around because she always comes back to her… and that’s weird but then a friend sent me this. It’s from last night”

“That’s the umpire that was a jerk to Tasha” Yelena takes your phone, looking at it in desbelief. “That bitch is still pulling this shit”

“If it had been only about us, I would have waited until Natasha finished her match. But it seems to me, like Wanda is trying to play dirty here”

Yelena sighs and hands the phone back. She looks around and steps closer, lowering her voice.

“Yes, they dated. Kept it a secret. It was on and off, especially when they were playing against each other. Wanda didn’t like to lose and then, after a while, she began to mess around with Nat. She would have a fight with her before a big match, even if they weren’t playing each other. Made Natasha lose her cool and struggle. They really haven’t spoken since the AO”

“What do we do? I don’t want her to mess with Natasha. I won’t let Wanda get in her way”

“I’ll speak to Fury about this. He knows everything. I’ll let you know what he says”

“Didn’t know you two were friends now”

A voice calls from behind you.

“Seestra, hey!” Yelena steps forward to give you time to recover. “Y/N was just telling me about her time at NYU”

“Is that so?” the redhead looks between you two and you nod.

She stills makes you nervous and flustered.

“Alright, my presence is no longer required” Yelena complains, but still gives you a meaningful look as she walks away.

“I have to warm up, will you stay for the game?” she asks, stepping closer.

“Yes, of course I will. I’ll be screaming your name” you blurt out and then blush. “I mean, rooting for you. Didn’t mean it to sound like that”

“Sounds good to me” she says, coming closer. “Can I have a good luck kiss?”

You look at her smile, her beautiful green eyes. Think about all the times she’s been kind and funny and brave. And you also think about how someone played with her heart just for a stupid title.

So you nod and lean forward, kissing her gently.

Natasha deserves to win, not only because she’s the better player. She’s the better person.

“Go win this thing” you say against her lips and she smiles, pecking your lips one last time.

—

Natasha’s win is not a surprise to you, considering the level of her recent games. You still have to stick around for the Maximoff match, opting to stay far away from the press room once she wins.

So, it’s down to the two of them in the final.

You’ve never wished for Natasha to win something so much until today.

Work keeps you busy enough. Both of the men’s semis take a combined time of eight hours and you end up completely exhausted, seriously considering just sleeping in one of the locker rooms.

You haven’t heard from Natasha but it’s understandable. She’s playing for the championship tomorrow, and knowing Fury, he will be preparing her in every way possible.

As you get a cup of coffee from one of the last stands open, your phone pings again.

Natasha: Are you still here?

Y/N: Yes :(

Natasha: Meet me in court 17?

Y/N: Yes :)

When you finally get there, you find Natasha serving a couple of times, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

“Is Fury ok with you staying up so late?”

“I did everything he said today. I think I deserve this one thing” she smiles, walking towards you. “You look a bit tired”

“Jeez, thanks”

“I didn’t mean it like that. Ugh, Yelena is right, I have no game off court”

You laugh at that, taking her hands in yours.

“It’s fine, I was just teasing you” you say, looking as her eyes drift towards your lips. You both lean forward, sharing a kiss.

“Thank you” Natasha says.

“Uh, you’re welcome?”

“I don’t mean the kiss, no. Thank you for telling Yelena that thing about… Wanda”

“Oh”

Natasha walks with you to one of the chairs and you sit together.

“I haven’t spoken to her in months. And I don’t want to be with her. I need you to know that”

“But still… you said you’re not sure you want a relationship, right? It would be too much trouble”

“I think it might be worth the effort for you” she confesses and you smile.

“You do have game”

“I do?”

“Tiny bit. We’ll work on it”

She laughs, and you sit in silence for a moment.

“I made my debut in this court”

“I know”

“How…?”

You sigh. Since you’re sharing stories…

“After my dad died, I kinda took distance from the things we did together. That included all kinds of sports. It was a painful reminder. And then, as the USO was starting, I realised he had already bought our tickets. So I came here, walked around a bit. And then I saw you”

Natasha smiles, squeezing your hand.

“Your hair was shorter, and you were wearing a weird orange top with green shorts” you frown as you remember how awful it looked.

“My mom chose it for me!” the redhead buries her face in her hands and you laugh. You take them in yours as you continue the story.

“You were amazing that day. Controlled, precise… I forgot for a little while about how sad I was. And after you won, I came back everyday to watch you play”

“Thank you for telling me that. I wish I could have known your father”

“I would have liked that too”

There’s silence as you both think about your own journies, the things that brought you to this moment.

“Come on, we should go. You need your rest” you stand up, offering your hand to Natasha. She thinks for a moment before taking it, but instead of standing up she pulls you down until you’re sitting on her lap, your legs around her.

“Nat?” you gulp, blushing at how close you are.

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop” she whispers, kissing your neck and squeezing your ass.

“Holy shit, no, don’t stop” you plead, tangling your fingers in her red hair.

“Locker room?”

“Lead the way” you kiss her frantically, hoping no one sees you.

Once you arrive there, Natasha smiles and your heart stops for a second.

“Ready to scream my name?”

—

There’s warmth. And a nice pressure. Some tingling on your back. Like a soft touch.

You open your eyes in an unknown room, trying to remember where you are. As you turn around you find Natasha fast asleep, her arm around your middle.

“Nat?” you call for her, hoping no one walks in any time soon.

“Five more minutes” she mumbles against your skin.

“Nat, wake up” you plead.

As it turns out, she only reacts when Yelena kicks the door, walking in on you naked under the sheets.

“Happy finals day seestra—-ah! Naked”

“Yelena what is wrong?” to your horror, Melina joins her daughter. “Oh, you two lovebirds!”

“WHY DOESNT ANYONE KNOCK HERE” Natasha screams, putting the sheets above her head.

“Sorry” Melina says, dragging away Yelena.

“Yeah, sorry” Yelena echoes, sounding anything but.

As you both get dressed, the memories of last night come back to you.

After your rendezvous -and almost getting caught by security- you decided it would be better to continue elsewhere. You blush as images of Natasha moaning, kissing and pleasuring you also come back.

“Hey” she approaches you as you walk to the door. “You ok? You look a little…”

“Flustered?” you say, trying to hide your blush.

“Well, yes. I’m sorry about them walking in”

“Last night was… amazing”

“Yeah?” she circles your waist with her hands and pulls you closer. “How amazing?”

“Like winning all Grand Slams in the same year kind of amazing” your hands go around her neck and you pull her for a kiss.

“Wow, that’s big talk” Natasha comments agains your lips. And as she’s about to kiss you, Fury walks in.

“Romanoff! What did I tell you about that cardio”

“For the love of God, knock!” Natasha says, defeated.

“Don’t worry, Fury, I promise she was laying down for the most part” you wink at the man.

“Stay for breakfast” Melina invites as she’s setting the suite’s table with all the room service.

“This has been sufficiently awkward, thank you. And I also imagine you have stuff to do”

“You need to stay hydrated. How much liquid did you lose?” Fury says, going around the kitchen like a headless chicken.

“Fury, I haven’t seen her this relaxed in months. My sister will be fine” Yelena comments.

“Are you coming to the game?”

“Of course. I’m on press duty”

“Come to the player’s box” Melina says.

“Would that be wise?” you ask and everyone shares a look. “What I mean is, we want to make Wanda think her plan worked, right? If she sees me there she’ll know we are on to her”

“I don’t care what she thinks. I want you there” Natasha takes your hand and you smile.

“Alright. I’ll be there. See you later” you kiss her cheek and smile.

“Byeee” Melina and Yelena say, and you realise that Natasha will have to deal with their questions.

Well, if she can deal with the press, she can deal with her family.

—

The day goes by in a blur, and as the match approaches, you feel more anxious. God, how does Natasha do this? If it were you with the world watching, you’d probably break down the minute you step into the court.

“Hello there” Yelena greets as you meet at the player’s entrance of Arthur Ashe. “Ever been here?”

“Just once, with Bucky”

It’s hard to forget the luxurious facilities where players can get food, special gifts, some physio or workout before their matches.

“He won last year, right?”

“Yes” you smile at the memory. “How is Natasha doing?”

“She’s done with warmup, she had something light to eat and she seems ready. She’s also been smiling like an idiot all day, even if Fury kept her away from her phone”

“I want her to win, so whatever it takes” you smile at the blonde, and follow her to the lounge, where Natasha is waiting with Melina. The redhead smiles as soon as she spots you and you kiss her on the cheek.

“How do you feel?”

“Like a complete wreck”

“You got this. Remember she prefers short games, she also doesn’t like to volley or come close to the net. And people say her forehand is killer but she goes too far behind her back, so use it against her”

“Y/N?” she interrupts your rambling. “All of that is fine advice, but I already have Nick on my back 24/7”

“Right, sorry”

“You know what he doesn’t provide?”

“Hm?”

“Good luck kisses”

“That’s right, it’s above my paygrade” Fury says. “Say your goodbyes now”

Melina and Yelena hug her, Fury squeezes her shoulder and then they give you some space.

“Go win this thing” you say, leaning forward and kissing her softly.

Natasha leans her forehead against yours and smiles.

She’s ready.

—

Natasha comes out first, and the crowd goes wild.

Wanda is close behind her; you catch her staring at you, clearly shocked that you’re next to Nat’s family.

“Who’s losing focus now?” Yelena says with a cheerful voice and you can’t help but smile.

The game begins and it is very clear that Natasha is playing aggressively. She has an ace on every game and there are hardly any break points for Wanda. It’s been 30 minutes and the score is 5-2.

“She’s cooked,” Fury says, looking at Wanda. You shake your head.

“Maximoff has an insane record after losing the first set, you know that”

And in fact, she does lose the first set. As always, the crowd loves to cheer on the underdog, so they go wild when Wanda wins the first two games of the second set.

“Come on, Tasha” you scream, and she looks your way, smiling. In no time, they’re tied.

“What are the odds on a tiebreak?” Yelena asks.

“It can go either way” you sigh, confirming that it will happen as they reach 6-6.

Natasha is playing fast and hard, giving no time for Wanda to recover.

But as she serves for the match, Wanda challenges the call in the most disruptive way possible.

It was in, but since Nat stopped playing the point goes to Wanda.

“That’s bullshit” Yelena says under her breath and you nod.

Sure enough, Natasha zones out and goes from match point to losing the second set.

“Dear Lord” Fury says, trying to keep a neutral expression.

“Maximoff looks exhausted, Nick. Natasha is doing great. She didn’t give away the second set. She’ll do this”

The third set begins, the first four games a close call. Deuce is called when they’re tied at 2, and you know that whoever wins this point will end up winning the match.

Every time Wanda has an advantage, Natasha comes back and breaks. Even when the Sokovian is serving, it doesn’t stop Natasha from pulling her back to 40-40. The Russian is a wall, and Wanda seems to lose hope as time passes.

And then, it happens.

Wanda has a double fault that gives Natasha the advantage. Followed by a double fault that gives her a break.

“Yes” Fury claps, trying to keep it together.

As the score approaches 5, your heart beats faster. Once again, 5-2.

Natasha serving for the match.

An ace.

The crowd goes wild.

The second ball goes out of the court when Wanda hits it.

Then, a double fault.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It’s 30-15 and then 30-30. All Natasha needs are two more points to win.

She searches for your face in the crowd and you smile, nodding.

“You’re going to win” you say and she smiles.

Another ace.

The screens show the “championship point” sign.

Wanda doesn’t make it easy for her. She’s like a wounded animal that has nothing to lose, so she runs, she answers every throw with a groan, she comes to the net.

But when Natasha does her signature dropshot, Wanda tries to run, reaches too late and the ball bounces one, two, three times.

“Game, set, match, Romanoff”

“Fuck, YEEES” Yelena screams, standing up and cheering.

It’s all a blur, Natasha falling to the ground and covering her face. Walking to the net to shake Wanda’s hand, and then the umpire’s.

After, she walks among the crowd, trying to reach her box. Yelena is the first to jump, their mother hugging them both and crying.

Fury looks like he’s about to cry as Natasha hugs him. You’re certainly crying happy tears as you watch them.

And then, she walks past him and picks you up from the ground, kissing you in front of the entire stadium.

“Congrats, Nat” you say against her lips.

“I’ll be right back” she promises when the security guard asks her to come back for the ceremony.

“You owe me a question”

“Save it for the next championship” she says against your lips and you kiss again, in spite of the guard’s insistence and with the crowd cheering you on.

—

It’s been six more slam titles, two years of tours around the world.

Natasha still owes you a question.

You’re saving it for a time when you’re both ready, and you’ll ask her to marry you.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanoff fic #Natasha Romanoff x you fluff

469 notes · View notes