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munariplans · 1 month

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forty, love | natasha romanoff

part 2 | part 3

synopsis: winning was everything, and losing was a sin. unfortunately, you were on a losing streak, and natasha loved winning.

natasha romanoff x tennis player! reader

word count: 4.9k words

a/n: inspired by that one scene from challengers.

masterlist

“slice forehand.”

thwock.

“inside-out forehand.”

another thwock.

“move to the volley. hurry. your feet aren’t keeping up.”

despite the insult, the thwock lands. the ball bounces and hits right where you want it to hit. the singular drop of sweat that dripped onto the ground between your feet is not wasted, as you look up to your performance coach across the net, unamused sneer hidden behind his thick moustache.

“not fast enough?” you quipped.

he sighed, shaking his head. “don’t get ahead of yourself. you’re still number 2 in the state. if you want a shot at beating the princeton team, you’re still going to have to move much faster than that.”

you wiped the beads of sweat on your forehead, fixing the slightly loose hair tie, before nodding understandingly. still, you weren’t too happy at his latest onslaught of insults this past session. “you could have at least given me credit for the dropshot earlier when you came in. it was perfect.”

“perfect shots don’t get you the win. defeating your opponent does.”

he signalled that practice was over for the day, and you walked off court at the same time as he did to gather your things. the woman watching from the stands stood at that moment, and began her descent down to meet you in the locker room.

natasha romanoff walked up behind you as you changed, the sudden feeling of her hands on your bare skin a welcomed intrusion, as you sighed into her touch. she let herself have her hands full for a minute, roaming over your muscles until she was satisfied, before settling them on the edge of your shoulders, massaging the tight knots out of them. you were still so tense.

she pressed her lips lovingly on a scar, waiting for you to finish panting at the feeling of where her hands had been. “you were great out there today.”

“coach said otherwise.”

“mm,” she let you put on your shirt, turning you around to kiss you after, “you were fighting him back just as hard. are you okay?”

you zipped up your bag then, taking a moment to avoid her question, before, “do you think i’m like what he says? what they all say…?”

natasha motioned for you to continue. “that i’m all bark, no bite, now? that i’ve lost my mojo?”

“baby–”

“–because you can tell me straight up. i can take it. you’re my girlfriend, you can tell me, i can take it.” the room had suddenly gotten tense, a stark drop to your composure that you had managed to hide so well on the court. in the locker rooms, you were angry again. you had been angry for a while now.

“losing a few matches isn’t going to hurt your record, baby. you’re this college’s star player, you know this.”

“but losing four matches in a row is going to shatter my ego. my confidence. you of all people should know this!”

you had backed away from natasha, eyebrows raised, posture standoffish. she hated this. she hated seeing you like this. as bad as it was to say, she hated seeing you lose. it was the worst part of yourself that you let her see, when you lost. but what was she, as a partner, if not to stand by you through your career, your ups and down? she should be sharing your pain, taking some burden off of your shoulders, at the very least.

“just last week, i let it go to break point, and i still fucking lost!” you had raised your fist at this point, nearly punching it at the steel frames of the lockers, when you reminded yourself of just the complications that could arise from shattered knuckles. your coach would never let this go. but still, the gesture was there, and the fire in your eyes remained all too dangerous.

suddenly, you were pressed against the lockers, the weight of natasha’s body engulfing yours, as her arms came to hold you tight against herself. you were forced to embrace her back, despite your slight protests and pleas, but she was having none of it. she had wrapped you up in her tight, strong embrace, and her hands were finding themselves to bring your face towards hers, eyes boring into your own.

“nat–”

“–last week, last week, you were against a professional, baby. a nearly retired one at that, but she was fighting for wins at the australian open not too long ago. she’s been doing this longer than you have even started learning how to hit the ball. don’t be so hard on yourself, will you? nobody, nobody else, could have gotten to where you were with her. break point is a feat in itself.”

you didn’t look convinced. but she didn’t need you to look convinced; she needed you to listen. “do you understand? you need to look at things from a different perspective, from my perspective. not your coach’s, not your teammates, certainly not that player’s fucking groupies, who were gloating about your loss all the way out of the stadium. you need to believe in yourself, as i have always believed in you. and you can’t keep going on like this. do you understand me?”

natasha’s eyes never departed from yours, her gaze firm. her hands were shaking, a little unsure of your reaction, because as far as she knew, you didn’t look like you were going to back down from a fight. either with yourself or her, she didn’t know. she certainly hoped it was at least the latter.

but then, your gaze cast downwards, you nodded ashamedly. sighing into the air, you pressed your face into the crook of her neck for a moment, the height advantage letting you lift her up, and she cooed as she let you gather yourself.

“i understand.”

she patted the back of your head. like a mother would a petulant, but repenting child. “good. now let’s go get dinner, then a massage for your shoulders. then back to the gym first thing tomorrow morning.”

–

natasha watched you push around your vegetables for nearly half of dinner. she knew the campus meal tickets didn’t exactly provide for five-star dishes, but she had never seen you so down like this before. it was almost as if you had become a ghost of yourself.

“steve’s birthday is coming up soon.” she decided to change the topic, and hopefully, get your mind off of tennis for a minute.

you gave a nonchalant grunt, finally stabbing the piece of broccoli. she steadied herself. “should we get him the pair of boots he’s always wanted? i figured we could pull in wanda and clint too, if we want to get him a bigger gift.”

your eyes were still unfocused. it was as if she wasn’t there at all. “baby.”

you looked up, half-expecting natasha to be pissed. but she only gave you a small smile. “steve’s birthday?”

“we can get him the boots. i don’t mind paying for them. but i don’t think i’m going to his party.”

“why not? your match on that day ends in the afternoon.”

“yeah, but i think i’m going to be pretty tired.” not to mention if i lose.

natasha decided not to argue with you on it. she knew enough how touchy the subject of your career already was. instead, she jabbed the last piece of corn with her fork, and gestured for your mouth to open.

the both of you left shortly after.

–

in a friendly match the next weekend with the neighbouring college, you were faced up against the top ranking player once more. being a finals round, you had imagined that the crowd would be roaring with applause for how far you’d come, but when the sets began to balance after your first few strong starts and the heat of the afternoon sun began beating on everyone’s backs, the crowd dwindled out one by one from boredom and, to you at least, the possible disappointment of you losing.

it was only expected, from a disenchanted champion. the college’s once pride and joy, the one who was once regarded as a candidate with potential to win grand slams. unfortunately, people only really like you when you win.

but natasha stayed. and so did her friends, and your friends that she had managed to force to stay. you had gestured that they could leave if they wanted to, during the breaks, but they were afraid to even nod, or make a move, lest they wanted to be subjected to natasha’s ferocity, sitting behind them. it was almost humiliating that they stayed only because your girlfriend was forcing them to, you thought.

thwock. a missed shot from your end.

another thwock. “out!”

by your last mistake, the crowd had only left natasha, steve, and some die-hard groupies of yours that were slowly losing hope too. so when the final set was determined by your failure to execute a passing shot, and subsequently touching the net, the roars from the other side seemed almost mocking. you had lost.

natasha rushed down to the locker rooms again, only this time, your friends followed, and the absolute mortification that you felt, along with the pure anger and frustration of losing, overpowered any remaining sense of decency you had left.

the moment you spotted her coming in, then the company behind her, you almost felt like the first time the instinct to shatter your racket came to you.

“out! all of you, out!” you had screamed, not caring to be decent even to your teammates.

“come on, we just wanted–”

“–i don’t care, out! you’ve just come in here to humiliate me, haven’t you? gloating how i could lose, even in a friendly! how shit of a player i am, now!”

the people behind natasha grumbled, but one by one shuffled out. it was better to tell you about how unfair you were being another day, not when emotions were running so high. natasha was thankful they understood. but it didn’t make what you did any less unfair.

she sat beside you as you kept your head down. “that wasn’t very nice.”

“losing isn’t very nice.”

“they meant well, baby.”

“no, they don’t.”

“how many times do i have–”

“–a ton, okay, natasha?” you looked up, slamming your drink between the both of you. “a ton of times, you have to remind me. that my friends love me, that they’re here to support me. but how the fuck am i supposed to believe that when i don’t even have anything for them to support me for?”

“your friends don’t just love you because you’re good at tennis, my love. i don’t love you just because you’re good at tennis. this is ridiculous! i can’t believe we are arguing over this, i can’t believe you think of yourself so lowly like this.”

natasha was met with a deafening silence the moment she finished her last words, her chest heaving up and down from her own disappointment. the rest of the players had filtered out, upon hearing your argument, leaving only you and her there. like always.

your hand rubbed over your face resignedly, hands covering the beautiful eyes natasha loved loves staring into. she wanted to reach out, to pull your hands away from yourself, to even get you to answer her, to let her know that you at least believed you were better than this. but she was afraid of the answer she was going to get.

then, she heard a sniffle, and a small, choked sob afterwards. and that was it.

you were up standing the next second, and slinging your racket bag over your shoulder. “i’m going to the gym. i know you have class after this. don’t wait up.”

she was left there alone, the dismay and disappointment of it all weighing down on her, the moment the doors to the locker room were slammed.

–

i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have lashed out on you like that, i apologised to my friends, now i want to apologise to you. i love you, i’m sorry. the words didn’t seem enough. the guilt that accumulated and eventually avalanched into your heart was almost insurmountable, after the incident with natasha. you weren’t even sure you were worthy of being forgiven, you thought as you sat in your car later that night, still angry at her, but making sure that she was safe in the short walk home from her class to her dorm.

which was why you found yourself in the florist off campus a few days later, asking the employee what flowers best represented i’m sorry for being such a terrible girlfriend, and which flowers were most likely going to help you be forgiven. the white and blue carnations reminded you of the colours in natasha’s room.

“how much is it?” you asked, to which the cashier then showed you the till. you cursed internally, not even knowing flowers were so expensive nowadays.

checking the contents of your wallet for a minute, you cursed even louder at yourself at the emptiness that greeted you. losing matches meant losing money, that was for sure, and it wasn’t a secret that you were mostly funding your life with prize money won from big matches in the state, with college at least funded with the athlete’s scholarship. yet another reason why i can’t keep doing this, you thought.

it was between dinner for the next few days and gas for your car, and the flowers. fuck it, skipping dinners once in a while wouldn’t hurt, and you could walk from place to place.

you handed over your card, and began the walk to natasha’s dorm.

when she received you, natasha noticed you looked almost like a kicked puppy, none of the anger or smugness you carried with you on and off the court. no, with her, you were soft, and vulnerable, and all-too pitiful for her love. she knows the power she has over you. she never had to worry.

so she brought you in, allowed you to apologise, to beg at her feet, and for her mercy and forgiveness. she allowed you to worship her, taking her to her bed and whispering how much you messed up to her skin, how much you loved her when you were making her see stars, how much you thought you would hurt yourself if she ever left you when she was chanting your name over and over again, begging you to let her come undone.

–

steve’s birthday rolled around, and natasha was once again seated in the front row for you. she never missed your matches.

you thought she should have missed this one, when the match reached a break point and you lost again. when you had gotten so frustrated, so furious, over a careless choke that you had, that you received a punishment for smashing your racket into bits as the opponent screamed in celebration.

she came down to sit with you in the locker room after, but it was in silence. there was nothing to say, and nothing to be said. there were tears streaming down your face, dripping onto the floor. your vision was obscured by the tears, and you would have lost yourself if not for the hand that was holding your own, firm, steadfast. somewhere along the line, she was kissing you, then slowly pushing for you to get up, and bringing you to her dorm. you didn’t really remember anything more after that, busy curling into a ball and crying yourself to sleep afterwards.

when she woke you again to accompany her to steve’s party, you felt almost bad that the ringing in your ears hadn’t gone away, and so had your misery from the match earlier. but natasha needed a ride, and you weren’t going to let her drive back later if she had been drinking for the night.

–

you encouraged natasha to mingle around at the party, and to not worry about you, as you stuck around your few friends for a bit. she was unsure, but you were firm, and soon enough, she too had disappeared into the crowd.

your eyes never left her after you found her again, though, leaning back into a pillar as your friend sam went on and on about his own matches so far. you didn’t have the heart, or energy, to tell him that tennis was the last thing you wanted to talk about right then.

she was by the birthday boy, his arm slung around her waist as the both of them guzzled down cups and cups of spiked punch. their circle was closely-knit, you had always known this, but somehow, the lingering touches, and his hand slowly travelling up and down her back, was ticking you off this time. you had almost half a mind to ask steve what he thought he was doing, but you knew natasha would get embarrassed, and upset. you knew you already made her upset enough today.

but then, sam quipped, “they’ve been awfully close lately, haven’t they?”

he must have forgotten he was talking to natasha’s girlfriend, of all people, as he continued, “steve’s on a winning streak recently. on track to become valedictorian, potentially getting drafted by the top teams next season, it’s only a matter of time before he wants someone by his side to share it with too, huh?”

“...right.”

“you know how natasha likes winners,” he hit your elbow playfully, breath reeking of alcohol and other illegal substances, “she just loves the game. i bet that’s how you got her to fall for you too.”

“not my good looks, or horrible attitude to anything outside of tennis?” you tore your eyes away from natasha for a moment to glare at sam. he chuckled.

“i’m just saying, better to keep your girl by your side, future federer.” he disappeared shortly after, and when you found natasha again, she was laughing and putting her head on steve’s shoulder.

instead of feeling angry this time, you were dejected, and a little bit ashamed. of course. natasha liked winners. and you certainly weren’t one anymore.

you bit back a harsh breath, and went outside to get some fresh air when steve stole a glance at her that was far too intimate to be one of merely friends. you should have known. if she wasn’t winning with you, she was winning with someone else, somewhere else.

that night, for the first time in your career, and relationship, you thought about retiring.

–

but when the competition season rolled around, and the WTAs approaching, you had managed to pull yourself up in the rankings enough to secure a spot at a challengers’ round to hopefully beat princeton and start a domino effect that could lead you to participating in a grand slam.

natasha was walking beside you, struggling to keep up as she checked your schedule haphazardly. “the princeton girl, she’s on the other side of the roster. i doubt the two of you would be playing each other unless she reaches the finals too. which…at this point…”

you didn’t want to know if she meant that you wouldn’t stand a chance of reaching the finals, or that the princeton champion would be knocked out early. you were afraid you knew the answer.

steve had dropped her off at the stadium when you went outside to pick her up, his smug smile as he waved her goodbye, and his eyes following yours, making you want to reach over inside the car and beating him with your racket. you had to arrive earlier to discuss strategy with your coaches, and while you were more than willing to pay for natasha’s ride in, she had mentioned that steve would be dropping her off. she sounded almost excited, so you dropped the topic and went back to your practice. like you have been doing for the past few months.

turns out it wasn’t so hard to succeed, and win matches, when you were more or less resigned to your fate that nobody was ever going to expect anything more of you from your streak of losses all those matches ago, and you had effectively lost the love of your life to some football player who kept winning, and winning.

you were at a challenger’s round this time, so you didn't need to worry. you won, and won, and won a little bit more.

–

thwock. right over the net. the opponent misses and falls to her knees.

a serve that would have made williams roar in awe. thwock.

last one. the set was done if you landed this one. thwock.

the ball landed inside the court, right by the opponent’s feet. and you advanced to the finals.

you remembered natasha rushing down, not even waiting until you entered the locker room. she was running, running, and jumping into your arms, kissing you like her life depended on it. you spun her around, giving her a smug smile, trying to hide a bleeding heart that knew she too, was surprised that you ever stood a chance of winning.

the crowd roared behind you. people were liking you again. but you had never felt worse.

–

it turned out that the princeton champion had advanced to the finals, and would be playing against you, after all. there was no surprise for her, but certainly a surprise for you, as the newscasters and fans had aptly put, a grand shocker. they had all thought you had seen your glory days over.

natasha caught you watching the latest telecast from the hotel’s television, gaze zeroed in on the anchor who was comparing your statistics over the last few games. almost perfect scores. leaving opponents with loves in sets. behind her, were the students of your college, decked out in the colour of the university and your face and initials printed on their shirts, caps, flags. all of it. they had never looked more proud. the college had even rolled out a banner in your name, in lieu of the upcoming finals. you knew natasha enjoyed all of it more than you did.

when it came to the broadcast from princeton, the college’s president had come to give a special interview. he mentioned that he never doubted his champion from the start, unlike what your college had to go through with you. you found yourself wanting to spit at the television.

but from behind, the sound of running water from the shower had stopped, and she had come out, in a robe and her wet hair in a towel. she saw the glazed look in your eyes, and promptly picked up the remote to shut the programme off.

she settled into the spot beside you, nuzzling into your comfort. she had to pull your own arms off of the couch to wrap around her. you thought she must have known. she couldn’t be so stupid. she knew that you knew about her, and what she had always liked.

but then you remembered, beyond the resentment, and grief, of the past few months, of just what she had been through with you. when you lost your very first match in college, natasha had been your friend, still. she was dating the captain of the basketball team, you remembered, but she had gone with you afterwards to walk the long way home, encouraging you and telling you that it would get better. it always would. you only half-believed her.

but then, you won. and won, and won, and won. by the tenth streak of winning, natasha had broken up with said boyfriend, and began hanging around your dorm, the tennis courts, even the cafeterias more often. she went where you went, showed up to most of your games, was the loudest one in the crowd when you secured sets. she would wait for you after your mini celebratory sessions with your teammates, and fans, and friends, all for a moment alone with you. then, she would bring you out for drinks, for dinners, sometimes the occasional walk down memory lane to her dorm. she was kind, she made you laugh, and you were on a streak. so what was there stopping you?

you fell for her just as easily as you fell in love with winning.

to your surprise, she stuck around when you lost a few matches along the way, never letting it phase her, or you. to everyone else’s surprise, she stuck around when you twisted your ankle in your second year of playing. she had left a pattern in her wake, you see, of leaving all of her past lovers when the going got tough, or when they had simply stopped winning. it was inevitable, you thought. but no, not this time. when you fell to your knees during that tournament, screaming in agony as your ankle felt like it was folding in on itself, she was there. she was right beside the medical officer, holding you up as he inspected the injury, face looking even more panicked than yours as they wheeled you off to the hospital.

she was there, as they wheeled you in for surgery, and wheeled you out to recover. she never left, even when the doctors told you it would take months to recover, let alone get back to playing on your level. she helped you recover, was the driving force in your physical therapy success, even became the sole reason that you returned to playing so quickly after your injury. you hadn’t wanted to disappoint her, much less lose her at all. you were too afraid of the possibility of her becoming someone else’s because of your failure in your sport.

natasha stayed through your losing streak. she never got mad, or lost her patience, with you. it had been three years now, with her. she had never lasted in a relationship so long, so had you. she had talked about getting married before, right after college, to which you had entertained, but still never gotten the full grasp of. how could she talk about marrying you, with such a reputation that preceded her? what if you had lost, would she have run off before the altar?

what if you lost tomorrow? you looked at her again, this time, and she was on her phone. she was texting your friends to make sure they came for your match tomorrow. you felt horrible.

“nat.”

she looked up. “yes?”

“tell me it doesn’t matter.”

natasha sat up this time, her hand holding yours. she looked confused. “what doesn’t matter?” “whether i win or lose tomorrow.”

her face remained unchanged for a moment, but at the quiver of your lip, and the coldness in your hands, she broke her composure. she shook her head slowly, gaze steely. “no.”

“why not?” it was your turn to harden the look on your face. “why won’t you tell me at least that?”

“because,” she bit the inside of her cheek, “you’re the professional. you’ll tell me whether it matters or not.”

you sat up as well. “i just want to know that you’ll love me…no matter what…whether i win or lose tomorrow.”

natasha’s eyes suddenly couldn’t meet yours. she looked down, at your shirt, then away, but never back at you. you pleaded, “natasha, please.”

“no,” she remained firm, “no. i won’t tell you that, because i know you’ll beat her. you’ll win tomorrow. and you’ll go to the grand slams, you’ll be the best tennis player that’s ever played in them, and you’re going to win. every. single. one. of. them.”

“and what if i don’t? not even the grand slams, not even tomorrow? what if i come in second again, after all this time?”

you were growing desperate, and she was growing distant. you suddenly thought that you would have done anything, absolutely anything then, for her to tell you what you wanted to hear. to tell you that she would love you no matter if you won or lost.

natasha watched as you dropped to your knees in front of her, eyes already teary. your hands scrambled to hold her shirt, her waist, any part of her. she held them back, but to stop you from reaching further. then, she held your face again, but this time, it was you that was begging for her. you looked downright pitiful.

she wiped the stray tear off your cheek. she knew what she was going to say would either make or destroy you. “i’ll tell you this instead.”

“please.”

“baby, if you lose the match tomorrow, i’m leaving you. for good.”

–

thwock. thwock. thwock.

princeton parried, the ball is sent to the line. you return it with ease. princeton flicks back, you work twice as hard to send it over.

your moves were clean, cleaner than ever before, aided by a brain filled with rage and a heart filled with fear.

princeton served, out. you served, in. the advantage stood, and the crowd stood to cheer. princeton hit back, you hit harder. it was a game both colleges hadn’t seen in decades. there were talks of both of you dominating the grand slams, even possibly working together, even being the next best duo to ever hit the sport.

break point. the ball whizzes. and finally…after all the pain, the fear, the lost matches and the weight of the world on your shoulders, it was over.

you weren’t quick enough. princeton won.

a/n: i just love pathetic, pitiful characters who are down so bad for natasha romanoff, is that so wrong?

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel cinematic universe #tennis player! reader #challengers #natasha romanoff x tennis player! reader

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leaderwonim · 17 days

Text

LET THE BEST PLAYER WIN.

pairing: tennisplayer!sunghoon x film major!fem!reader

summary: everybody knew park sunghoon, the tennis player at harvard that was most likely going to go pro as soon as he graduated. determined to get closer to him to gather videos for her final, film student nishimura yn tries to find out more about the infamous tennis player everybody seemed to talk about.

warnings: mentions of excessive drinking and smoking (please don’t do any, your bodies are precious 🙏), they’re both lowk bad people LOL, nonconsensual filming (not sexually)

“Whoa there,” you say, camera loosely hanging around your neck as you watch Park Sunghoon slam his racket on the floor till the strings popped out.

“What?!” He screamed, eyes practically bulging out of their sockets. He takes a deep breath, realizing that he has too much of a reputation to lose it over too little of frustration.

“Hey, don’t mind me.” You lift your hands in surrender, “just gotta film something for my final, you know.”

“Film major?” Sunghoon scoffs, throwing his now broken racket to the side as he shuffles through his gym bag for another. “Funny.”

“Very funny,” you shrug. “When I get into a big studio and start making films that blows up Hollywood, Park.”

“I’m just saying,” Sunghoon doesn’t look at you, instead focusing on his footwork. “You got into Harvard and you’re doing film?”

“You got into Harvard by doing tennis.” You snark back. “I think we’re on the same page.”

Sunghoon laughs, and it’s the first time you’ve ever heard such thing from the boy. The only things you do hear is his groans of frustration and grunts as he hits the ball back and forth.

“Not bad,” he compliments you, finally deciding to turn over. “Want to get beer tonight?”

“I thought athletes don’t drink?” You sit up straight from your previous position on one of the plastic chairs placed near the players that oversaw the whole tennis court.

“Pft, which liar told you that?” Sunghoon packs away his things, and despite having played for 3 hours, he still looks as good as ever. “How do you think I keep sane in tennis? Medication? Fuck no.”

For the first time, you see a glint in Sunghoon’s eyes, one that wasn’t the competitive glint he wore like a blood sucking cheetah every tournament.

By the end of the night, you realize that Park Sunghoon can really drink.

He’s downed 6 shots already, but his face is still as bright as ever. In fact, he asks for three more.

“The adrenaline is similar to playing tennis.” He says with his oh so cheeky smile.

As soon as the server passes Sunghoon his drinks, he wraps one arm around your shoulder, cheering, “to Nishimura Y/N, the film major at Harvard!”

You laugh, pointing your camera at his smiling face. He’s too drunk to notice you recording, swaying you side to side as the alcohol consumes his living thoughts.

🎾 ⊹ ‧

You’re pleasantly surprised when Park Sunghoon invites you to one of his matches. It’s not a state competition—but it’s his competition that he invited you to nonetheless.

Your eyes rush back and forth from Sunghoon to his opponent, the ball stroke faster and faster until your head starts hurting from cranking too close. It was a match against Stanford, Sunghoon was playing against a girl named Kelsley Aptos, who was stunning enough to make your film pop.

You cracked your neck before taking out your camera, recording the two competing. As soon as Kelsley misses the ball, you stop filming, standing up to applaud Sunghoon.

The girl isn’t happy, in fact, she’s almost furious with the way her lip twitches. But she does as any good sport would do, shake Sunghoon’s hand and tell him good game.

“I like your skirt,” Sunghoon tells her, licking his lips which were now dry from all the playing. “It’s pretty.”

“Well thanks Park,” she replies. “I like your stance.”

You’ll never understand the way athletes compliment each other—and hell you probably never will since you’ve practically signed your life to the film industry.

He grins, then makes his way to you. “You see how I beat Aptos? She was great, stunning.”

You don’t know why your stomach churns at the way he describes her. Was it jealousy? It couldn’t be; you barely knew Sunghoon, so why the hell were you genuinely upset over him calling Kelsley Aptos stunning?

“C’mon,” he draws you to his side, way too close for two people who’ve only gotten to know each other in the span of two days. “I believe we have to celebrate with drinks.”

🎾 ⊹ ‧

If there’s one thing about Park Sunghoon that you’re utterly confused by is his lack of self control.

On the court, he’s insane, unbeatable, practically a God in the world of tennis. But after tennis, after the matches, he’s chugging down as many alcoholic beverages as he can take, which is far too many a person—much less a college athlete—should inhale.

Sunghoon liked it though. He liked the way the liquor burned as it went down his throat, he liked the way it cooled in his body and how lightheaded he felt everytime he’d drink. When he wasn’t drinking, he was smoking.

You two were perched on lawn chairs, on opposite ends of each other. The chairs oversaw the beach near Harvard, and you could hear the whoosh of the waves as it drew closer.

“Your coach would kill you,” you said, grinning as you watched him inhale the cigarette. He’s not sober, clearly, but his stamina is good enough that he could make out his surroundings and conversations.

“He totally would.”

You perch your camera up on your knee, secretly recording Sunghoon as he leaned his head against the chair. Although he claims he’s so out of it, he looks so beautiful.

“Will you teach me tennis one day, Park?”

He lifts his head up slightly, eyes making direct contact with yours. “Will you teach me film?”

You nod, and he does too.

“Then it’s a deal Nishimura.”

🎾 ⊹ ‧

Sunghoon is a bad influence.

You can tell now that you’ve known him for a month and by the way he drags you into parties, your little camera still dangling around your neck like it was engraved there.

“You know what they would say if they saw Harvard’s precious athlete partying his ass off on a Wednesday night?” Sunghoon yells over the music.

“What?” You yell back.

“How preposterous!”

The two of you giggle loudly at that, bodies so close to each other that it looks like you’re making out to anyone who wasn’t closely paying attention.

“Hey Y/N,” he says, and as you look up, his eyes are already meeting yours. “I like you a lot.”

You smile at that, letting Sunghoon lean in and kiss you right there and then.

It just felt right. So right. Like a missing piece of a puzzle was finally discovered.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

🎾 ⊹ ‧

It feels like you’re discovering a new piece of Park Sunghoon everyday as you get to know more of him.

He was no longer Harvard star tennis player Park Sunghoon, but your boyfriend Park Sunghoon.

It felt weird, but giddy. Girls who had thrown themselves on him before backed off with fury, wondering why a random film student of all people got with their beloved athlete.

You don’t mind that Sunghoon loves tennis, you really don’t. You know he wants to go pro, it’s all he’s ever talked about on your dates and calls.

“I’m gonna make it to the Olympics.” He says. “You’ll see.”

“I’m sure I will Hoonie.”

What you do mind is the fact that Sunghoon loves tennis too much. His fixation with the sport concerns you, but that’s just what happens when you’ve been playing since you were 3, isn’t it? The sport becomes one with you.

“Park Sunghoon! How was your match?” The interviewer asks, shoving his microphone into Sunghoon’s face.

“Oh it was great man, lovely weather.”

“Mhm, a great warm glow over Boston today! Have you always loved tennis this much?”

“Yes, honestly, tennis is my number one. It’s the reason I breathe and live today.”

He doesn’t mention anything about you when asked about what he loved. He never did. It was always the same thing.

Tennis, tennis, tennis.

If you hadn’t seen the red flags that were ringing before, you clearly were now.

“Are you seriously upset I didn’t mention you in my interview?” Sunghoon asks, biting into his apple angrily.

“Yes! It’d be nice for you to mention me once in your interview but you never do! It’s always the same bullshit Hoon!”

“I love tennis, why can’t I talk about it? It’s what the people want! They watch me for tennis, they don’t watch me for some stupid relationship.”

“Oh, so this is relationship is stupid to you now?”

“You’re twisting my words and you fucking know it.”

You and Sunghoon haven’t talked in over a week. All because you had practically begged him just to talk about you once. Was it so hard for him to show appreciation to his own girlfriend?

It didn’t help when you went to try and visit him on the court, practicing what you were going to say. He was already too engrossed in his conversation with Kelsley Aptos, their proximity dangerously close.

Fine. You think. If Park Sunghoon wants to play this way, we can fucking play it this way.

The next thing you knew, the headlines were filled with PARK SUNGHOON, HARVARD STAR ATHLETE CAUGHT EXCESSIVELY DRINKING AND SMOKING, blaring all over Boston, with the clips from your camera being right on the front page.

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pers1st · 3 months

Text

thrown down

pairing: alexia putellas x reader

warnings: r has a seizure

You are usually the calmest person on the pitch - something that Barcelona fans often applaud you for. It is not often that you lose your cool, especially in comparison to players such as Alexia, Mapi or even Lucy. You rarely get into fights, whether physically or vocally. Maybe that's why your teammates are so surprised when you finally seem to give into the aggression that had been flooding your veins for the past seventy minutes.

The El Classico was always a hot-headed match, but you had never seen a player be as targeted as Alexia seemed to be in this match. It wasn't unusual at all, Alexia proved to be a dangerous player for any opponent, and as you were still level going into the second half and Alexia was creating difficult chances from the moment she was subbed on, it surely agitated Madrid's players.

It was only her second match back after her injury break, which might have been why you saw red when she was yet again pushed, only this time you had seen her knee give out. Within seconds, you were at her side.

"Estas bien?", you asked, huffing for air as you leaned down towards your girlfriend, who was clutching her knee slightly.

"Sí, yo creo", she answered within seconds, which calmed you ever so slightly.

Satisfied with her answer, you rose back up, turning around towards the player who had just tackled Alexia for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

"You!", you yelled as you marched over towards the woman, a clear smirk on her lips. It infuriated you.

"Can't you just leave her alone, for fuck's sake! That's such a dangerous tackle, there's no need!", you continued, shoving the defender away rather harshly, before Lucy could pull you away. You received a yellow for your shove, and so did the Real Madrid defender. Somewhat satisfied with the outcome, you marched back into your position after seeing Alexia back up on her feet, desperate to finish this match without any more injuries. You were so, so wrong.

Within seconds, the match resumed and Barcelona was awarded a free kick in a very promising position. You lined up, with the rest of the players, on the line of the box, hoping to get your head in on the ball and possibly score, securing your team the win. Of course, you noticed the very woman you'd just shoved taking a stance next to you, but you didn't think much of it. Really, everyone was there, both Madrid and Barcelona players, all except for Alexia, who was aiming to take the shot.

The ball found you quickly, and as you jumped, you used all your energy to summarize it behind the ball, clinging at the chance to find the back of the net. Your head never reached the ball, though. Instead, an elbow hit the side of your face, just next to your eyebrow, slamming you harshly. Pain surged through your head in an instance, before you could even hit the floor and bang your temple against the hard grass once again.

Everyone was too focused on Patri's header to notice your crumpled form on the floor. Everyone, except for your girlfriend. She didn't even follow Patri's header, instead surging forwards to lean over you, waving to the referee for a head injury and to allow the medical team to enter the field. She had seen the whiplash your head took from the collision, and knew by the fact that you weren't moving in the slightest that this injury was bad.

Truthfully, no one could have grasped just how bad it actually was.

"Amor? Hey, please wake up!", your girlfriend shrieked over your unconscious body, not knowing whether she could touch you or not.

"Hey, ref!", she yelled out, and finally the whistle blew as more players joined and a crowd was starting to form around you.

Just then, while your body was carefully hidden by a sea of blue and red shirts, your frame began twitching. Alexia thought it was a good sign at first, thinking you would finally began regaining consciousness. However, when the medics finally reached the formed crowd, the slight twitches turned into a seizure, and before Alexia could even react, your whole body shook aimlessly, a crumpled form on the pitch, almost like a fish in the dry.

Covering her mouth in pure shook, Alexia leaned past the medics, grabbing a fist of your shirt just to hold any piece of you she could grasp. She couldn't let go of you, no matter how desperately Irene tried to pull her away from the medics and your seizing body. The fabric was clammy in her hands, but not even the pain seizing through her wrist from how hard she was clutching onto you could get her to let go. Everyone seemed to be in shock as to what your body was going through, and no one reacted. It sent a pain through Alexia's body that she'd never felt before - worse than when she'd torn her ACL, worse than when she'd had the second surgery, worse than any concussion or bruise. Watching you suffer, helplessly gripping your shirt and trying to understand what the hell was going on, was worse than anything she could imagine.

It seemed like hours until your body finally stopped shaking, but Alexia didn't calm down in the slightest.

"Ale, calm down. The doctor's have got it", Ingrid tried to soothe the woman, but her attempts were helpless. If she hadn't gripped Alexia's shoulders just in time, your girlfriend would've jumped into the ambulance that had driven onto the field with you.

Luckily, both of the women were supposed to come off around this time anyways, with Jona being careful of Alexia's injury and Ingrid having played her heart out already, and so the two women rushed to the changing rooms, as the memories of your collision kept replaying in your girlfriend's head, the fear almost swallowing her whole. There was something that had made you look so - so absolutely broken, on that pitch, and just as tears were clouding her vision again, Alexia could barely change into clean clothes, let alone take a shower. Ingrid kept her composure up fairly well, reminding Alexia over and over again that you were in good hands, that the team's doctor had gone with you, that the doctors in the hospital knew how to deal with this, that they were trained to deal with this. But it had very little effect. Alexia's foot kept coming down onto the floor of the car without rhythm, bouncing up and down in anxiety as the woman tried to keep herself from opening up the absolute waterfall that was lingering behind her lashes. She had gotten them done just a few days ago, and something as little as your smile when she'd told you excitedly, asking for your opinion, almost made her suffocate. You were everywhere - your laugh, your smile, your voice, your smell, you lingered in the air around Alexia, intoxicating it and making it incredibly harder for her to breathe.

What if you didn't make it?

The question brought Alexia's foot to a halt, and a single tear travelled down her cheek at the thought that she might never hear your voice, your laughter, again.

"It's going to be okay", Ingrid whispered as though she had read Alexia's mind, even if the woman wasn't sure whether it was to ease your girlfriend or her own thoughts.

"We should probably get comfortable. We'll be here a while", Ingrid mumbled as she guided Alexia into the waiting room, who had fallen completely silent during the last few minutes of the car ride. She couldn't blame your girlfriend - Alexia wasn't a person to show her feelings, much less talk about them, and however she wanted to deal with this, Ingrid deemed it okay until they gained more knowledge about your situation.

And comfortable, they got. The whole team showed up, explaining how the ref had finished the match mere seconds after your body had left the pitch, and even Mapi and Pina, who usually liked to cause havoc, were silent as Patri distributed the takeout she had gotten on the way here across the team.

Panic grew within Alexia as the hours crept on and the sun set agonizingly slowly, but she didn't manage to say a word, sitting in silence with her teammates as she forced multiple gulps down her throat, fighting the tears brimming in her eyes. She didn't allow herself to think about the what-ifs anymore, not daring to let her mind wander into a world without you in it. There was no world without you in it. Alexia didn't allow it.

Nothing seemed to calm her, as she refused to eat, tapping her fingers against her legs nervously. Just when she thought she needed to run to the bathroom to throw up, a doctor appeared in the waiting room. The man seemed stunned at the amount of women in Barça clothes crowding the place, but he didn't complain.

"Are you the family of Ms Y/L/N?"?"

"We're her teammates", Ingrid answered, gently taking her feet off the opposing chair once more as Alexia sat up.

The man nodded shortly.

"She asked for Alexia?", the doctor asked, gently smiling at your girlfriend, who rose to her feet immediately at the mention of her name. He walked her and Ingrid, who followed her with a hand on the small of her back, away from the waiting room, into a more secluded area, before offering details of your operation.

"The seizure was caused by a traumatic brain injury, likely when she hit her head on the floor. We've had to do a minor procedure to stop her brain from swelling, but as of right now, there's no sign of any damage to her brain. She's just woken up and is very out of it, still. It will be a while until she's back to her normal self, she'll need to be under supervision here, for a couple of days. But she's asked to see you."

His words rung in Alexia's head, bouncing back and forth and giving her a migraine, bringing tears to her eyes once more. You were okay. You had asked for her. You had asked to see her.

"Can I see her?"

The doctor gave her your room number without hesitation. Ingrid had to hold her back as she hurried towards the floor you were on.

Despite the relief lifting a harsh weight from her shoulders, Alexia was growing anxious with every step. Memories of your body shaking on the ground, almost like a rag doll, were flooding her brain still, and it would take actually seeing you to realize that you were okay. It seemed like a miracle to her.

She glanced at Ingrid when she reached your room.

"Go. I'll let the others know."

Tears were brimming in her eyes when she opened the door to your dimly lit hospital, glancing at the small figure in a bed that seemed far too spacious for you. When she finally found your eyes looking back at her, she allowed the tears to stain her cheeks at once.

"Amor", you sighed, holding an arm out for her as Alexia was seemingly stuck at the door.

"Hey, I'm okay", you tried once more to stop her tears from falling, but it was to no avail. At least, this got Alexia's legs moving once more, as she cautiously stepped towards you. Your head was bandaged up and you were wearing a hospital gown, the blanket drawn up to your shoulders.

When Alexia finally grabbed your hand, she swore herself to never let go of it again. You were okay. You were alright. You were sitting in front of her. She wouldn't have to live her life without you. The realization seemed too much as she broke out into sobs, her whole body shaking as she gripped onto your hand so hard it almost became uncomfortable.

"Amor, I'm okay", you tried to soothe her as she sunk into the chair next to your bed, gently letting her head fall into your lap, burying herself in the fabric of your itchy blanket.

"I... I thought I lost you", she hiccuped through her sobs, and you gently began stroking her hair, desperate to calm your girlfriend down.

"Never, you're stuck with me, amor", you smiled softly down at her. Even hours after the seizure and the procedure done to avoid your brain swelling, you felt absolutely thrown down, eyes fluttering closed every few seconds as Ingrid finally led all of the women who'd waited for you into your room, which promptly got Alexia to kick them out again.

"Alright, vamos, everyone. This one needs sleep", she huffed, firmly motioning towards the door, shaking her head at every complaint of your teammates.

"Bye, guys", you smiled after them as the crowd slowly dispersed, allowing only you, Ingrid and Mapi in the dark room.

"Ale, are you coming?", Mapi asked as she gathered her bag from the table across from you, holding her hand out for Ingrid.

Alexia looked at you then, panic written across her face. You shook your head gently.

"I spoke to the nurses, they said you could stay", you smiled at your girlfriend, seeing relief spread across her cheeks in an instant, her hand gently squeezing yours. You knew how worried Alexia was, and you had known how worried she would be. Just for tonight, she could climb into bed with you, hold you all night long and help you in the morning. Just for tonight, she wouldn't have to leave you. You feared she never would again, anyways. Though maybe, that wouldn't be as bad as you thought.

#woso community #woso imagine #woso #woso one shot #barca x reader #barca femeni #woso fanfics #woso writer #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas one shot

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kazvha · 2 months

Note

Hi, I saw your requests were open for the time being. I wanted to ask if you could write some headcanons (or anything really) about isagi, kaiser or noa from blue lock having a crush on gn reader. Like how would they fall for them, deal with their feelings and confess ? Thanks for considering, good day/night.

Summary: Them developing a crush on you

Including: Kaiser, Noa, Isagi

Notes: First time writing for them, sorry if they're ooc. Thanks for requesting!

MICHAEL KAISER

• Kaiser became aware of you for the first time when he bumped into you and didn't even spare you a look. Irritated, you scowled and mentioned how ugly his haircut was

• He only gave you a side glance and went on

• Since then, he began to notice your presence much more on the Bastard München campus

• He saw you when he bought a coffee in the cafeteria, he recognized you standing on the side of the football field while he was warming up; even after his taxing training he noticed you on his way to the dorms

• Kaiser isn't someone who shies away from conversation. When you became the assistant of his physiotherapist he had finally the opportunity to talk with you

• He already forgot about the bumping incident and conversed with you like he did with everybody else, a lot of self-absorbed remarks and snarky comments. And you didn't hesitate to bite back

• He was a bit friendlier with you than with everybody else though because you weren't his opponent on the field

• Eventually you warmed up to each other and the stinginess in your conversations toned down a little. Kaiser found himself looking forward to finding you around campus and agitating you

• He quickly realized that he had formed a crush on you. That's also when every conversation with you took a flirty spin. Kaiser was confident in himself, it would only be a matter of time until you fell for him

• Kaiser addresses you with so many silly pet names like "Süßkartoffel, Schnucki, or Bärchen"* instead of using your name

• He's generally touchy with people, but he became so much more touchy-feely with you after realizing his feelings

• Head resting on your shoulder to look at the document you're reading, hands around your waist just for fun, or even patting your head and messing up your hair :(

• Kaiser tries everything to sweep you off your feet and fluster you. When he's sure that you like him back, he immediately asks you out.

• "You like me right? I caught you staring at me multiple times these last few days," he smiles arrogantly and leans back with his hands behind his head as you stare at him with raised eyebrows. "Good for you that I like you too! Let's go out this weekend."

(* sweet potato, sweetie, little bear)

NOEL NOA

• You were the social media manager of Bastard München and had to talk to Noa multiple times throughout the week since he was the player who got the most likes and views on your posts and videos

• Noa had to do several challenges and Tiktok dances because of you. He thought that most of them were strange, but the rational part of him understood that his cooperation would be good for the team's publicity

• He was so bad at dancing and doing these challenges, you had to teach him every time you shot a new dance video

• Noa was very flustered every time you came up to his side and guided him with your hands on him, but he didn't let it show

• Over time he became used to your ideas and you two grew a little bond. He even developed a little crush on you. The thought of carrying out your ideas wasn't that bad anymore as long as he got to spend time with you

• He tried to reason why he liked you in the first place. Several things came to his mind: His heart beat faster every time you were near him. He had the desire to please you. When he was with you, there was always a slight smile on his lips

• Noa wouldn't say anything and continue like this for a year, to find out if his feelings were fleeting

• He didn't feel the need to be in a romantic relationship right now since his hands were full with football-related things. But if he still decided to pursue one, he wanted to be with the right person

• So when his heart remained unchanged after a year, he tried his luck and asked you out in one of your shootings

• "Let me be frank with you, I caught feelings for you. Could I take you out on a date, if that's okay?"

YOICHI ISAGI

• Isagi fell for you after you interviewed him. You didn't ask him superficial questions like every other reporter, but you understood his plays and asked him about his ambitions

• He was initially stunned by your questions but answered all of them with eagerness in his voice

• He was so giddy when you exchanged your contact info at the end of it

• Also when you texted him, asking him for another interview

• The next one had a more casual vibe to it. You two went out to the park and ate street food while you asked him various questions. You quickly became friends due to his open nature and it almost felt like a date...

• He became a nervous wreck every time before you met up and he asked his mom for advice on how to treat you like a gentleman

• Even when you two texted he probably would delete and rewrite his messages for like five minutes before actually sending them. His friends tease him because of that

• He definitely practiced his whole confession at home in front of the mirror and when the time to confess came, he quickly rattled his whole speech off before he started second-guessing himself

• "Look, I immediately thought there was a connection between us the moment we met. You understand all my plays, but you're not only engrossed in my football journey, you're interested in the real me too! So, yeah it's actually no wonder that I developed a crush on you... Do you think you could accept my feelings?"

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harunayuuka2060 · 2 months

Text

Jamil and Ace: *watching Yuurin play basketball*

Ace: I— WHY IS HE SO TALENTED?!

Jamil: He's got good defense and he's quick to analyze the movement of his opponent.

Jamil: ...

Jamil: Ace, make sure he joins the Basketball Club.

Ace: ...

Ace: Can one student have two clubs?

Jamil: What do you mean?

Ace: Equestrian Club, Track and Field, and Majift Club are after him.

Jamil: Are you saying... that other clubs want him too?!

Ace: Y-Yeah...

Jamil: *sigh* Well, I hope he plays for us if ever we need an extra player.

Ace: He's quite cool... You just need to convince him a lot...

Ace: We're classmates! And best buddies! Are you really going to do this to me?!

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: We barely socialize.

Ace: I'm friends with Jack, and you're his friend too! So technically, we're friends!

Yuurin: ...

Ace: Please, Yuurin! Just this once! Okay?

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: *a bit annoyed* Fine.

Ace: Thank you, bestfriend!

Leona: Have you chosen on a club?

Yuurin: I want to join the Majift Club.

Leona: Heh. Why? Is it because we're there?

Yuurin: *nods*

Leona: Well, sure. Though have you tried the Film Studies Club?

Yuurin: Film Studies Club?

Leona: Yeah. You can learn a lot of things there.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: I see. I'll try it then.

Vil: This is a surprise, Leona.

Leona: Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Do you accept new members?

Vil: As of now, yes. We're looking for new actors that can play feminine roles.

Leona: Do they get to wear feminine clothes?

Vil: Of course. That's why it's called feminine roles, Leona.

Leona: Great. Yuurin wants to join.

Yuurin: *looking at Leona*

Vil: ...

Vil: Are you serious?

Leona: What?

Vil: He doesn't look— *looking at Yuurin*

Vil: ...

Vil: On a second thought, why not?

Yuurin: ...

Vil: *to his students* Someone bring me a makeup kit!

Yuurin: ...

Vil: What do you think?

Leona: ...

Leona: How do you feel about it, Yuurin?

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: It's nice. *feels good about it*

Vil: My, you have quite an adorable student, Leona.

Yuurin: ...

Leona: ...

Leona: We're going back to our dorm.

Leona: Yuurin, let's go.

Yuurin: Yes, Leona-senpai.

The other Film Studies members: ...

The other Film Studies members: Yuurin looks nice, doesn't he?

Vil: ...

Vil: Yuurin, huh? *smirks*

Savanaclaw students: ...

Ruggie: Hey, Yuurin. Are you wearing a makeup?

Yuurin: *nods*

Jack: ...

Jack: *gives her a thumbs up and grins* You look great!

Savanaclaw students: ...

Savanaclaw student A: Yo! Get the wig!

Savanaclaw student B: On it!

Yuurin: Huh?

Ruggie: We were in the middle of designing your dorm uniform when they decided to buy wigs and makeup.

Yuurin: ...

Other Savanaclaw students: *fighting on what wig should Yuurin use*

Savanaclaw student C: Long hair, motherfucker!

Savanaclaw student D: With highlights, you uncultured swine!

Yuurin: ...

Jack: ...

Jack: I bought you a cute nail polish.

Akihiro: *chuckles softly* I'm glad you're being pampered, Yuurin.

Yuurin: *is on a phone call with him* Hm.

Yuurin: It's my second time wearing anything feminine.

Akihiro: You should do it on a daily basis.

Yuurin: You're a bad influence sometimes, Aki.

Akihiro: *chuckles then coughs*

Yuurin: Aki?

Akihiko: I'm fine... *clears his throat* *then chuckles again*

Yuurin: ...

Akihiko: Yuurin, you have the freedom. I hope you enjoy yourself to the fullest, not thinking the responsibilities everyone forced on you here.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: *smiles sadly* It would be nice if you have that freedom too.

Akihiro: I might be able to leave this place soon.

Yuurin: Huh?

Akihiro: *chuckles* But that's a secret for now.

Akihiro: You'll see me visiting Night Raven College one day.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: I hope you come here during a school holiday.

Akihiro: Don't worry. I'm checking my calendar. *chuckles* Bye, Yuurin. I have to sleep now.

Yuurin: Hm. Good night, Aki.

Akihiro: Sweet dreams, bluebell.

Yuurin: Aki... That nickname doesn't suit me.

Akihiro: It does. *chuckles* Bye for real. *hangs up*

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: *smiles* I don't know what you're up to.

Yuurin: But as long as you're fine. *gazes at the moon*

Akihiro: *also gazing at the moon*

Their mother: I have chosen the perfect partner for you, Akane.

Akihiro: *smiles* Thank you, mother.

Their mother: *smiles* You'll be the most beautiful bride.

Akihiro: But I won't ever be as beautiful as mother.

Their mother: Don't say that. *chuckles*

Their mother: *then smiles at him*

Their mother: I'm glad you have finally accepted your fate, Akane.

Their mother: It makes me proud as a mother.

Akihiko: *continues to smile at her*

#twisted wonderland #twst yuurin #twst akihiro/akane #twst leona #twst ace #twst jamil #twst vil #twst ruggie #twst jack #twst savanaclaw #twst unveil

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dravidious · 16 days

Note

You're more amazing than words

I finished the story, so now here's the cards from it!

Also, I decided to make them all Imps because they are imps, and just made the support cards work for both devils and imps because mtg devils fit my view of imps

#asks #custom cards #also it may look like transforming Imp Lord Vengeful is bad because then you lose the keywords and can't get more counters #this is intentional #yeah getting turned into a 1/1 sucks but by the time you can transform back it's better to just stay an imp #also the random one-off use of the untap symbol on Chosen One Demon Slayer wouldn't be a good idea to print without reminder text #i did it with just the mana cost at first but then i realized it'd be way too easy for the opponent to get rid of before it can do anything #it'd be fine for it to die after tapping or attacking so i tried “as long as Chosen One is tapped any player may...”#but the text is really long and this is so totally NOT an official card so i decided fuck it just use the untap symbol #i was also going to make the chosen one a transforming card but jumping directly to personal servant is really skipping a step #so then it was going to transform into the captured prisoner imp but then i realized there wouldn't be any abilities to put on it #thus the 0/1 token

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summerssover · 2 months

Note

i feel like you would absolutely kill cheerleader girlfriend and dom jock matt (i love your writing and account 🤍)

𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐳𝐞 ⊹ ִֶָ ❲ 𝘫𝘰𝘤𝘬!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭❳

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘, its senior night for you and matt and he looks a little too good for you to handle

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒, suggestive content, language

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆, jock!matt x cheerleader!reader, matt x poc!reader, established relationship

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙧 𝙮𝙖𝙥𝙨!

i’m literally half asleep right now but i hope you like this. thank you pooks in my inbox it’s always open so send requests yall 🩷

▐ ❝𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐆𝐍𝐈𝐙𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐘𝐎𝐔❞

𓏲 🎀🍦 𓂃 ✦ 🪩

you felt like your were going to faint. you knew matt was a whore for attention when it came to his sport, but tonight he was outdoing himself. the stands were packed with family, some faculty of the school, and fellow classmates, an alarming amount of them drooling over your boyfriend as well as his brother.

you stood on the side lines cheering the lacrosse team on as they were about to win their last game of the season. you’d been fucking up on cheers all night due to the entertainment running up and down the field. something had to be in the air because there was no way he had you gagged this bad (😝)

matt was a rough player. the way he would harshly shove his opponents out of the way for the ball to land perfectly in his racket or when he would dodge and trip the other players, making them fall to the ground all while successfully making a goal gave him such a rush and all of the supporters in the stans that cheered his name stroked his ego but the true prize he had his mind set on was you. he couldn’t wait to get this over with and hear you screaming his name. that was the only thing that could top the feeling that he was feeling now.

the team now took a time out while you entertained the crowd by being tossed and spun around in the air, smiling and waving to everyone in the stans. matt rested around the sidelines, focusing on regulating his heart rate and getting some air. he took off his gloves and helmet with ease then ran his fingers through his hair, his chest moving up and down from his heavy breathing, and to add the cherry on top, matt lifted up his long sleeve shirt revealing his small waist and snail trail that weirdly resembled an arrow or maybe it was just you. either way it went he was such a slut.

your eyes scanned the crowd for what felt like the hundredth time, looking for who was just as mesmerized as you until you felt a light push to your shoulder, bringing back to reality.

“yn, you okay girl?”

you turned to look at one of your teammates before realizing you were just standing on the sidelines looking off into space. your cheeks start to warm up with a faint hue of red. “my man looks so good tonight” you brought your hands to your cheeks as you danced in place a little.

you and your teammate turned to face the other side of the field one more time only to see matt already grinning at you while he put his gloves back on.

“ouu, girl you better lock him up” she laughed out and leaned into you, expecting you to join in but you gave her a quick side eye before continuing. you were used to those type of comments all day at school and would go crazy if you made a big deal about every one.

the sound of loud buzzing rung letting everyone know that it was now halftime. you and two of your friends on the team made your way to the concessions and ordered two packs of skittles and a blue and white powerade.

before you went back to the sidelines you handed your stuff to one of your friends and met matt in the middle. you could see him leaning against the brick wall, waiting patiently to spend just a little time with you.

grabbing his hand and jerking him to face you, you scold, “what are you trying to do?”

matt looks down at you in confusion and pulls you into his chest with his free hand. “yea, thank you for noticing how hard i’m working baby, i do it for you” he tease and rocks you guys in place.

you playfully push away from him and shrike, “you actually smell so foul right now, matt”

he begins to laugh and you turned you face up even more while holding your hand up to his chest. “that’s not fucking funny, you need to do something about that”

“well it’s not like i’m in the middle of a game or anything”

you giggled like a little girl, it didn’t matter how long yall’ve know each, he’s never failed to get you all railed up and insides fluttering. it was just an affect he’s always had on you. “shut up, but i am really impressed with you, you’re playing really good tonight” you compliment before planting a sweet kiss on the corner of his mouth.

matt couldn’t help but grin, he strived for your approval and to know that he’s your number one brings him so much joy. “thank you” he giggled out as well.

“who are you showing off for?” you question in a playful manner. there was only one right answer anyways you just wanted to hear him say it.

matt smacks his teeth before responding, “you’re crazy to even think that i’m worrying about anyone but you. i see you over there, short ass skirt” he muttered the last part while his hands moved lower, lifting the ruffles of your skirt up and grabbing a hand full of ass underneath.

you shared one passion filled kiss before he broke away. “d’you get my snacks babe?”

you chuckled as you nodded your head “yea, i got em’ right before coming over here”

“alright thank you, love you, i gotta’ go”

he grabbed you by the neck and pulled you in for a sloppy, wet kiss. the type of kiss that always resulted in you laying on his bed, spread wide open.

matt disconnected your lips, still holding your neck in his hand, he whispered, “my parents are here, unroll your fucking skirt” before jogging into the distance.

he left you speechless, knees surely buckling under you at any moment with a damp patch only growing in your panties by the second and a little embarrassed. you didn’t even want to finish the night out, the only thing on your mind was tearing the jersey clean off of his back.

you looked at your phone, responding to texts about where you were as you squeezed your legs together to stop your pussy from throbbing.

matt didn’t fail to send you little smirks and glares when he passed you on the field and when he could he would use his shirt to wipe the sweat off of his face more often just to fuck with you.

finally came the end of forth quarter. chris scored the winning goal with an assist from matt and now it was time to present the seniors to the crowd. the list of names dragged on till you finally heard the ref call matt’s and chris’ name.

you loudly cheer and clapped with the rest of the crowd and managed to snap a few pictures of matt as he wore the cutest girn on his face with an arm wrapped around his moms shoulder. once the sports photographers were done snapping their pictures matt parted ways with parents and made his way down the field towards you.

you stood waiting from him to say whatever it was that would pop into his head but instead he deadpanned to you then briefly pointed to the path you normally took to get to the locker room without being questioned.

one of matt’s teammates talked your head off as you leaned against the brick wall, waiting for him to change into his clothes. you began to get impatient and hot again and this guy couldn’t get the hint that you were not up to converse. your mind was too busy being consumed with thoughts of matt throwing you around and having his way with you.

“so can i get your snap?” the guy brought you out your head before you blinked back at the phone in your face.

“sorry, what?”

before the boy had anytime to repeat himself, matt had appeared as if he was summoned at the moment and threw an arm over you shoulder. “you’re good, bro” matt waved him off before continuing to his car.

“was that a fun conversation?” he asked teasingly and brung his face closer to yours. “you gonna’ get him to fuck you tonight, baby?”

you rolled your eyes and chuckled, “please, matt i don’t even know what he was talking about, you were all i could think of” you sweet talked him and pulled him in for a kiss by the cheeks. matt was the first to pull away.

“you’ll be saying please alright” he grinned down at you then connected your lips again. by now you two were standing on the passenger side of the car, just chatting.

“why are you in such a grumpy mood right now, big matt won the game”

matt shook his head at your attempt to distract him. “first of all big matt is fucking insane, don’t ever say it again and it might be cause i could see your whole ass from across the field” he emphasized.

you only rolled your eyes and went to wrap your arms around matt’s neck. “you’re so dramatic.. d’you know that? let’s just focus on getting home so we can celebrate your win, i’m so proud of you”

matt huffed as he opened the passenger door and waited for you to get in. the door shut loudly as you smoothed out your skirt and matt putt his bag in the back seat before hopping in the front and starting the car. as soon as you heard the rev of the engine you attached your phone to the aux a play you and matt’s playlist.

matt turned the a/c on, needing a relief from the humidity of the late spring air. matt began to pull out of the parking lot after the sound of both seat belt clicking.

the car ride was filled with a comfortable silence. you watched matt as he concentrated on the road with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on your thigh. he looked so good in the dim light and you loved the veins flexing in his arm from how tight he was gripping the steering wheel. it reminded you how his muscles would flex when he would move his fingers in and out of you to chase your high or when he squeezed his hands around your neck. you were so wet right now and the heat was getting unbearable.

you leaned back in the seat and spread your legs just a little. “baby can we hurry it up, i don’t know how long i can wait”

“just be patient, well be there in a bit” matt patted your thigh and put a heavier foot to the gas. he didn’t want to admit it but he’s was getting restless too and the way we’re squirming around in the seat didn’t make it any better.

you pushed your curls to the back of your head as you slumped down and pulled the short uniform all the way up to your waist. “i can’t wait anymore, please matt”

matt glanced over to you and a smirk grew on his face before looking back at the road. he grazed his finger over the now completely soaked underwear with his eyes still on the road. “please what?”

“please help me baby” your legs were spread out in the passenger seat at this point and matt stretched your panties to the side, a ripping sound could be heard in the process but there’s no way you could care at a time like this.

he used his thumb to play with your clit for a while and you let out soft moans but what you wanted was to feel full. you bucked your hips up at his hands letting him know that you wanted more as you approached a red light.

matt slowed down the car behind another one before putting the gear in park and turning his full attention to your leaking hole. he leaned over to spit on your pussy and his to fingers followed, now buried inside of you.

“ughh, shit matt” you noisily moaned, raising your legs in the air.

he brung the hand that was once on the wheel to your left knee to hold it in place while he drilled deep and fast into your tight entrance. his long fingers started to squeeze through your walls due to your excessive clenching around him, making a creamy white mess all over you and his fingers.

“yea, open that shit up princess” matt muttered and gazed at you. you were about to let out yet another moan before a car’s horn cut you off.

“oh shit” he shifted back in his seat and put the car back into drive without disconnecting his fingers from your cunt. you wrapped your arms around the head of the seat and whined as the cream continued to spill out of you.

“oh my, you’re so good”

your legs began to shake once matt’s soft palm rubs over your clit and his fingers still did it’s job of pumping and even twisting inside of you so well. your hand flew down to his to squeeze his wrist.

“right there, right there” your dragged out your words as they turned into incomprehensible screams. your juices squirted out onto the dashboard and windshield while your back arched off the seat.

he talked you through your high, “you got it baby, that’s all you”

you hummed at the overpowering sensation. your body couldn’t stop shaking and matt could’ve sworn he’s bitten a whole in his lip.

“holy shit baby” matt’s mouth flew open at the sight before him, your just squirted all over his car and your pussy over flowed with cum.

“sorry, i’ll clean it up” you sheepishly smiled and closed your legs as your tried to catch your breath.

you guys came to another red light, allowing matt to reach behind your seat to get a clean towel he had laying around to wipe you off.

“don’t apologize sweetheart, that was fucking beautiful”

𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩!- @worldlxvlys @ariieeesworld @muwapsturniolo @esioleren @sturn59 @maryx2xx (comment to be in the taglist!!!)

#˖ ࣪ 🥭⋆˚࿔ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝜗𝜚˚⋆#matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #x black reader #chris sturniolo x black reader #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #summersover #black writers #matt sturniolo #nathan doe x reader #matt sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

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wandasfifthwife · 1 month

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*ೃ༄ the difference between daddy!wanda & mommy!wanda

hockey coach/player! wanda x afab!reader ︎tw ͏ 𖧷 MDNI, top!wanda, bottom!reader, mentions or hints to sexual acts such as (fingering, oral (v & strap), grinding, tribbing, scissoring, strap in v), kinks such as degradation/praise, marking, exhibition ͏a/n ︎ 𖧷 inspired by this post. I WILL POST A FIC OF R CALLING W DADDY FOR THE FIRST TIME LIKE SOON!

ׂ╰┈➤ series m.list 🌷 ┈➤ wanda m.list 🌻

❀꫶̯͙ࣺ˖̑͡mommy!wanda 💐

* these are the moments when she’s giving, gentle—

* it’s when R wakes up late at night, pulling on her shirt and Wanda’s turning over, half-asleep to sedate R’s neediness

* these are when she’s at practice, a hand on R’s hip as she’s talking to the kid’s parents

* it’s how she’s checking in on you often, pressing a kiss to your cheek when she notices how you’re looking down

* this is when she’s expressing her love for you, whispering how beautiful you are—all of you, mind body and soul

* it’s how she kisses you sweetly, hand on your face

* this is love confessions throughout your intimate moments

* these are moments when you’re eating her out and she’s guiding you through it, telling you how good you are for her, how lucky she is to have you

* this is when she either knows what you want, or if not she’ll ask and do everything you ask and more

* this is where if you want to control the situation, she’ll sit back and let you ride her, she’ll let you finger her—and she’ll be so kind to you

* it’s when she coos when she notices tears, wiping them from your cheeks immediately

* these are moments when she’s building you up again, helping you if you’re ever feeling down/bad about yourself or your body

* It’s small makeouts on her couch, grinning when she feels you grind on her lap and whimper so sweetly into her mouth

* this is when you can feel it mentally, you feel loved and taken care of, your heart and body feeling more confident after

* it’s when she’s bringing you water/food after, talking with you, and setting a hot bath for you to relax in after an intimate moment

fics w/ mommy!wanda —> locker room | my hands are cold, warm them?

❀꫶̯͙ࣺ˖̑͡daddy!wanda 💐

* these are the moments when she’s calling the shots, demanding—

* it’s when W loses a game and takes her frustration out, roughly pulling R down on her strap

* it’s the way she slams opponents into the screened wall when she’s heard them talk about you like you’re single and open for taking

* it’s the marks she loves to leave on your skin, biting down to hear you cry out

* this is when she’s feeling cocky about how good she makes you feel, smiling at your blissful expression

* it’s when she’s calling you names, titles such as slut are used, meant to make you feel degraded

* these are moments when she can’t help herself, pushing you into some crammed space to make your eyes roll to the back of your head

* this is when she’s pushing her strap past your lips, laughing when you choke or have tears pooling in your eyes

* this is when she has a hand on your thigh, dangerously close to your cunt on purpose as she eyes down another who’s been looking at you for too long

* it’s when she’s pushing you over the edge to pull you right back in despite your little (untrue/false) statements for her to “stop”

* she doesn’t and won’t let you lead, she’s going to be pulling all the reigns

* this is when you can feel it after— legs shaky and a limp in your step

* it’s when she’s falling asleep on you after with a smile on her face, the both of you too tired to go anywhere after her drawn out ministrations on you

fics w/ daddy!wanda —> she tells me keep fucking cause she loves this shit | your jealousy is showing (on me)

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uswntdreamer · 30 days

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red, in the blurry mess.

summary: leah williamson scores a goal and it's too much for you to handle.

series: red, in the blurry mess.

"what's she doing now?" you ask your friend next to you. "does she have the ball?"

the woman shook her head, "no. she's just pacing around. the ball is in the opponents half."

you let out a sigh, in both relief and disappointment. you were hoping that your girlfriend would finally get to have a good match performance, however today it seemed like she was nothing, but a background character.

you felt bad for leah; for these past few weeks all she did was kick herself down about her lackluster match contributions. feeling like a liability more than a player, she would come home depressed after a game, not wanting more than to lock herself in the shower and contemplate her career.

you felt useless as well, but was there anything you could do? being born without the ability to see properly really put you at a disadvantage since the start. having to navigate life through a dark, blurry window, you made the most of it regardless. playing a bit of football when you were young (and your vision, though impaired, allowed you to play quite well on a team of other disabled girls), but eventually you hung up the boots by age eleven.

growing up in a family of arsenal fans, you've obviously found yourself a fan of the women's team. showing up to as many games as you could afford, wearing their jerseys in public, and participating in community events, you took pride in the fact that you supported a well round team of gals whether they won or lost.

you grew a small following from other supporters of the women's team and even began hosting your own small community events, specifically for other disabled arsenal fans. when the official arsenal brand found out about your events, they wanted players to interact more with their disabled supporters. you were over the moon when leah williamson, you're favorite footballer, was stopping by for a visit.

you've interacted with other arsenal players from both the men's and women's team, but they excited you no more than leah.

"the ball is coming in our area! they're running towards manuela!"

you didn't hear your friend as you continued reminiscing about your first encounter with leah. the only thing that could've made it better, was being able to see her face clearly.

"manuela blocked the ball! fox rebounds it and..." your friend pauses for a second, "leah is running towards the opposition's side."

your ears perked once you heard girlfriend's name. you were puzzled as to why she's running out of position. "why is she..."

your friend cuts you off, "fox passes the ball to leah and now she's running towards goal!"

you immediately shoot up from out your seat. you can feel everyone else stand around as well. you friend stands next to you. you hear nothing but screams from supporters around you. you stare down at the field and see a blurry mix of green, red, and white. it's frustrating; your girlfriend could get an assist or even score, but you won't see it happen.

then it happens. your girlfriend scores. your favorite footballer scores. leah williamson scores. the entire stadium is lit up in flames. your forced back down into your seat as the stands shake with heavy force from people jumping down ecstatically. leah had scored the first goal of the match in the 87th minute.

"who scored?!" you asked frantically. "who scored?!"

"she scored! leah scored!" your friends shouts out to you.

you don't react. you don't know how. everything is too much for you---the yelling, the horns, the movement. you need to get out of here.

"please take me to the locker room. it's too much." you beg your friend.

your friends nods and grabs your hand as you two make your way out of the stands and down the halls. away from the game, away from the chaos, away from all the red, in the blurry mess.

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #awfc #awfc x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #arsenal women #woso community #red in the blurry mess

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sc0tters · 4 months

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Littlest Hughes - Mark Estapa

summary: when a game of beer pong turns interesting you learn to realise that your brothers friend isn't so bad after all.

trope: forced proximity

warnings: sexual themes, p in v (unprotected!), underaged drinking, swearing, fingering.

word count: 3.67k

authors note: to the people that remember when this idea came out in like November, thanks for being patient cause Mark and the beerpong fic are now here! everyone thank @hischierhaze for making this one come out long before she was actually intended to be here for you all. if you want to look at more of the 500 celly then you can do so here!

You swore you hated him.

It was the idea of having someone you couldn’t stand in the slightest. The kind of person you couldn’t even be in a room with as you just wanted to gauge your eyes out. Someone who made you feel so irritated that the mere thought of them had you getting angry.

Now you have weren’t entirely sure why he pissed your off in the ways that he did. But as Mark seemed to hate you just as much as you hated him, you were never going to be in a rush to improve your relationship. Yet the problem arose when he instead opted to get close to your brother, Luke.

The boys were teammates and it was enough to make your whole family agree that your negative relationship with Mark wasn’t enough to stop him from being invited to the lake house. It was Luke’s first summer as an NHL player and those friends from college were the very men that Luke missed so much. So being the best younger sister that you were, you agreed to bite your tongue.

That’s how you landed up spending a week with his closest friends and for the most part you were having a good time.

“God you are such an ass!”

Key word, for the most part.

Mark smirked as he held your top over his head leaving you in nothing more than your blue and yellow bikini “you and I both know that those aren’t the right words.” He teased continuing to lean up each time you reached for the baseball jersey “I will kick you Estapa stop being a dick.” You spat as you crossed your arms sending him a glare.

Before Mark could respond Luke walked into the room “bro could you not leave my sister half naked?” Your older brother gagged as he shook his head “till next time kid.” Even though there was less than two years between you both Mark still loved that nickname.

So as he dropped your shirt in your hands you couldn’t help but scowl at him “fuck off.” You growled pulling the shirt over your arms “you wanna go on the boat you two?” Jacks offer pulled your attention away from the boy as you nodded “sounds great!” You nodded leaving the boy alone as you went to be in peace for the next few days.

You weren’t a hockey player, it wasn’t your thing but what is your thing is beer pong. Yet unfortunately for you it seems that the only person worthy of being your opponent was Mark. So that was how you both ended up being the last ones left in what felt like the longest game of beer pong that anyone had seen “you two see an end in sight?” Quinn groaned as he looked down to his watch when he let out a yawn.

It was this endless back and forth where you would each win a game and would then refuse to let them take it and that’s how you ended up at 12-13 with the only rule that to be crowned champion you’d have to win by two games “you ready to give up?” You sent the boy a glare as it only made the Michigan player laugh “just when I thought you could have been stronger than you actually came off.” The compliment was backhanded as Mark laughed.

The boys responded with groans as the idea of this game continuing made them all feel sick “I’m going to bed.” Quinn announced as he shook his head “me too.” With that boys went in groups as your constant bickering got tiresome.

Seven games had gone on and the new score was 16 all and you were just as irritated now as you were then “could you hold off on killing each other until tomorrow?” Ethan asked as he let out a yawn “want to watch it happen.” Mackie laughed as he nodded in agreement only going quiet when Luke sent them a glare.

Your brother rolled his eyes as he placed his hand on your shoulder “please just let him win so you can both go to bed?” Luke mumbled hoping that you would agree “never.” You grumbled as you refused to give Mark that kind of joy.

So of course things continued and you guys were left alone but not before Luke kissed your head “now you don’t got your big brother helping you out.” Mark teased as he got the ball between his fingers as he lined up his shot.

Mark smirked as he saw you pull your hair into a hair tie “tryna distract me with your skin?” The boy mumbled seeing your collarbones pop through the red cami vest that your were in “cause it’s not gonna work.” He added making you laugh.

It was a hearty one as your teeth caught your lower lip “please the mere thought of tits are gonna have you not seeing straight.” You pressed your hands against the table exposing your body more to him “you wanna bet?” Mark made little effort to ignore the white lace that so clearly stuck out of your top.

He took your silence and furrowed eyebrows as curiosity “winner takes all this game.” The hockey player offered making her scoff “higher stakes though as we’re now doing strip beer pong.” His offer was only met with the sounds of your scoff.

You crossed your arms as you couldn’t help but send him a glare “you just want to see me naked.” You rolled your eyes not wanting to give into him “don’t flatter yourself princess you aren’t my type.” Mark shook his head as he wasn’t interested in you like that “but if you are scared you’re gonna lose then I can accept-” you couldn’t even let him finish his sentence.

“Throw the damn hall Estapa.”

A scoff left your lips as you watched him go back to angling the hall and of course it just had to land in the beer “should we go with your shirt or your shorts first?” Mark teased as he watched you hook your fingers into your shirt before you pulled it over your head revealing the white bra you loved so much as it had a little golden v in between the wires to compliment your skin “not bad.” The boy mumbled to himself as he had seen you in less before but never in something with lace.

You took your cup and brought it to your lips letting the unsweetened liquid hit your tongue as you chugged it back not caring at the amount that dripped down your chin “what?” You asked dropping the cup to the ground as the boy looked like he was watching a dream “nothing.” Mark ignored how your lips were wet and the top of the lace of your bra as getting soaked as beer dropped down your chest.

Of course your ball went in and off went his shirt, it was followed by your shorts and then his. Until eventually you were both only on your undergarments “need some help getting that bra off?” Mark joked as he watched you reach behind your back but not before you flipped him off.

The idea of anyone being able to come down at any point didn’t seem to bother either of you as you clicked the clasp of your bra letting it fall down your arms as the cool summer night air made your nipples harden “you really do have secrets Hughesy.” Mark felt his mouth water as his eyes were drawn to the sparkling titanium bar that was pierced through your left nipple “shut up.” You grumbled as you attempted to ignore the way his hardening stare made you feel.

As you potted your final ball it left the boy having to discard of his boxers “don’t bother with those.” You mumbled leaning down to grab your bra from the floor “would hate to see what isn’t there.” The claim was a total slap in his face and you knew what you were doing as you aimed to piss him off.

It infuriated Mark with how well you knew to get under his skin “please you’d be lucky if I fucked you.” You began walking over to him as your bra was thrown onto the table “Mark I don’t think you even know how to make a girl come.” You shot back as you pressed your finger into his chest “I’d have you struggling to walk tomorrow.” Mark shook his head as he wrapped his hand around your wrist pushing your hand away from his chest.

This was the closest you had ever been to him before as his eyes pierced yours “I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last man on this planet.” You laughed as you turned to walk away but the boy was quick to pull you back “so if I felt those pretty little panties would they be dry?” His voice was barely a whisper as he walked you back against the table until you were finally sat on it.

Your eyes were wide as you shook your head desperate to not give him the enjoyment of seeing that he had indeed won “be as dry as the desert.” You spoke through gritted teeth almost squealing as Mark dug his fingers into the skin of your hips “you gonna let me test my theory then?” He asked dropping his head to the point where his lips hovered over yours.

All you could do was nod as you before his lips were on yours. It was messy as your hands your tugging through his hair like you didn’t want him to ever leave you “fuck.” He grumbled feeling your teeth sink down onto his.

It was like you knew what you were doing as you smirked “even as I’ve got you ready for a good fuck you’re still acting like a fucking brat.” The college boy growled pinching your chin between his fingers as he clenched his jaw “what are you gonna so about it?” You sent him a smirk as you swore that if this was a battle, you were winning it.

Mark spoke to himself under his breath as he dropped his head to your jaw as he began planting kisses on your skin “shouldn’t even fucking treat you well.” His voice sent shivers through your ears as he continued dropping his lips down your chest “saw you looking at it.” His eyes locked onto your breast “you can touch it y’know.” You teased tugging your fingers through his hair making him groan in the process.

He wasn’t going to be told again as he latched his lips around your pierced nipple as he groaned swirling his tongue around the piece of jewellery “fuck.” You swore trying to shut your legs to relieve the tension between your thighs “you still think that I can’t make you feel good?” Mark brought his hands down to your legs making you shiver as he forced your legs open.

You chewed at your lip watching him get closer to the pool that had formed in your panties “when I speak you need to answer me princess.” You swore the hockey player growled as you nodded “know you can’t.” The tough facade you had up was hanging by a thread and it only grew weaker with how his hands grew closer to your core.

A gasp left your lips as his hand cupped your core “fuck!” Your moan was swallowed by his lips “you little liar.” Mark clicked his tongue as a wet patch formed in your panties “please.” His thumb pressed against your clit where it drew soft circles.

Your head dropped against his shoulder as your body grew soft “what do you need pretty girl?” Marks voice was soft as he left a kiss on your forehead “you.” You croaked out as he toyed with your panties finally pushing them to the side.

Mark teased you as you shook your head “want more.” You whimpered looking up at him with a pout “please.” You begged edging your cunt closer to his fingers “didn’t know that all I needed to do was fuck you to get you to shut up.” Mark sighed as he teased your slit.

His fingers took their time plunging into your cunt “god!” Your groan was swallowed by his hand “you want your brothers to hear how much you enjoy my fingers fucking your pussy?” The hockey player rasped into your ear as you shook your head.

His fingers were thick against the walls of your cunt as he curved his fingers into a come here motion “they can’t.” You mumbled growing panicked as you were reminded of how all three of your brothers were upstairs “then keep those pretty little lips shut if it’s not gonna be too hard for ya?” Mark tauted you as you mewled under his attention.

You clenched around him as you nodded finally going quiet “like having you all quiet now.” As you tilted your head up trying to bring your body closer to his Mark took the opportunity to nip at your neck “no!” You gasped as he inserted a third finger not caring about your protests.

Mark smirked as he didn’t care “think you’re in a place to make the demands?” He scoffed as he clicked his tongue “thought you were smarter than that.” The hockey player teased as you pouted “the boys are gonna see.” You complained as his eyes sharpened.

Somehow the words made his whole demeanour change “you worry what those boys are gonna think of you now?” Mark spat as he increased the pace of his fingers as he fucked your cunt “like you really gonna now care about them seeing you like the slut you’ve become f’me?” He added standing up straight as he glared at you.

Your lips remained sealed as you tried to writhe your hips against his hand “remember pretty girl you answer me when I talk to you.” The hockey player warned “I’m your slut.” The words came from your lips as it made him grow surprised.

The words made his cock grow hard against his boxers “you happy to see me or what?” You smirked feeling it press into your knee “think I need to fuck this behaviour out of you.” Mark grumbled pulling your panties down your legs as it hooked around your ankles.

You had finally pushed Mark to a point where he had snapped and he wasn’t ready to come down from it yet “fuck I don’t have a condom.” The boy complained as he hadn’t exactly thought that having sex on this trip was on the cards for him “on the pill.” You shook your head offering a counter point that he gladly took.

Being a hockey player you weren’t surprised that his cock was on the larger side of big but you had to admit that your mouth did water when he retracted his fingers from your cunt to pull his boxers down letting his boner hit his pelvic bone “you still sure that this is what you want?” Sure Mark thought you were still irritating but the even with that irritation he still believed in consent “please.” You whimpered as you bit down on your lower lip watching in awe as he pumped his cock a few times before he tapped the swollen head on your clit coating it in his precum.

There was a moment between you both that if you weren’t still so buzzed from the alcohol in your system you would have sworn that there was something that could have mirrored something romantic between you both. His lips were soft on yours as his cock slowly creeped into your cunt letting your walls stretch to accommodate him “fuck you’re perfect.” Mark gasped as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder as he kept himself from coming on the spot.

He had a few moments of just staying there with his cock frozen before you finally cleared your throat “need you to fuck me Mark.” You coughed out as the boy turned his face to look at you “please.” You didn’t need to ask twice as he nodded letting his hands grip at your hips as your legs locked behind his hips.

Even as you were outside with the breeze your skin felt like it was on fire when his eyes pierced your gaze “how many guys you let have this tight little cunt of yours?” Mark made little effort to try to avoid the fact that he was jealous of his own question when the idea of some other guy fucking you came into his mind.

As his cock throbbed in your core you struggled to stay focused “j-just t-tw-two.” You stammered falling over your words as his thrusts became deeper “and did they make you feel this good?” Mark swore that the image of you beneath him struggling to even shake your head as your breasts bounced with each thrust that he made, would he engraved in his brain forever.

The first time you had sex was in high school when you lost it to your boyfriend of two years and you were both virgins. He came within a couple of pumps of his cock and left you there frustrated and alone as he went to shower only handing you a wet cloth before he shut the door behind himself. The other was a jock that was only sleeping with you to get the attention of an ex so the moment she came knocking on the door he went running back to her.

So if you truly thought about it Mark was your first time, not the embarrassing your overly awkward one. But your first time where you knew he was confident in what he did “didn’t come.” Even as you barely whispered those words Mark still heard you and he couldn’t help but smirk.

If anything Mark took that as a reason to quicken his thrusts as he watched your eyes roll back “gonna make you feel so fucking good then.” Your brain fog made you wonder if he was merely thinking aloud or actually talking to you “and to think that you really put up that whole act before?” The hockey players teasing tone had you clenching around him as you propped your hands up behind you to stop you from falling back.

His hand took the opportunity to slide between your bodies as he found your clit “you’re so fucking pretty when you’re so cock drunk.” The compliment came with a groan as he began toying his thumb over your clit “not gonna last.”

You warned not caring who heard your whimper that echoed from your chest.

Mark felt his thrusts grow irregular with how you cunt squeezed his cock with the new pressure your clit felt that had you wanting to press your thighs together “go make a mess doll.” There came the softest of the pet names from the night as he kissed you lips letting his hunger and pure desire to be the first guy that has you coming on their cock, take over his mind.

All that was left for you to do was listen to him as your lips let out a gaspy moan “holy fuck!” You swore as your eyes screwed shut letting white specks scattered themselves on the backs of your eyelids like stars in the night sky “breathe through it.” Mark cooed helping you on as the movements of his thumb combined with the thrusts of his cock lulled you through the brunt of your orgasm that had your legs shaking against his hips.

Before Mark could let his orgasm take charge he slid his cock out from your cunt making sure that you had come before that and he replaced the walls of your cunt with his hand “wha-” you grew confused at his abrupt movement “oh baby you have to work for me to come in you.” He grunted watching the warm sticky ropes shoot onto your stomach.

It made you whimper as you watched almost hypnotized by the sight “next time if you aren’t a fucking brat I might let you get it properly.” The hockey player explained tapping the head of his now soothing cock on your clit letting what was left in him ooze onto your slit “that was.” Your chest heaved as you swore that you had just had the hottest experience of your life.

Mark laughed as he nodded “I know.” He pecked your lips as he reached down to where your panties had fallen to and made the effort to slide them back onto you but not before the hockey player kissed your lips “think it’s time for you to go to bed.” A yawn left your lips as you nodded at his words.

He finished dressing you and even opted on helping you up the stairs before he left you tucked into your sheets where you nuzzled your head into the soft pillow “maybe you aren’t that bad Hughes.” Mark mumbled feeling his heart grow full at the sight of you blissfully drifting off to sleep.

But as he let your door softly shut after him it would seem that nothing would actually ever truly change between you both. Because at the end he was always going to be your brothers friend who pissed you off, and well you were always meant to be Luke’s hot sister.

Yet the true test that would come after this was when Mark would have to realize that you weren’t his, no he wasn’t good enough to get that right to have you under his arm at every event on campus. Instead he was destined to watch other guys fill that role one you finally grew into a more confident state.

“Since when has Rutger had a thing for little Hughes?”

#mark estapa smut #amber writes fics #ambers 500 celly #imagines #oneshots #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #umich smut #umich imagines #hockey smut

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