#I mean hes the one who needed bench time not the other way around
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match one [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]
synopsis: y/n's struggling with harry's coaching before the first tournament and harry's feelings control him more than he controls them
word count: 10.2k
contains: enemies to lovers, set at a boarding school, slow burn, angst, tennis rivals, strict parents, fluff, harry being a boy and not being able control himself around y/n
this is part 2 of the game, read part 1 here
. . .
“Again,”
Y/N gritted her teeth and bounced the tennis ball on the ground before throwing it into the air with a straight arm and hitting it with the racket, watching as it pierced through the air to the opposite end of the court.
She heard a sigh come from the bench on the side of the court, “Again,”
She inhaled sharply through her nose to try and contain her temper as she repeated the same serve.
“Again,”
Y/N spun around on the heel of her New Balance trainers, her pleated, white skort twirling as she did. She crossed her arms and glared at the boy lying on his back in his school uniform which was now crinkled and unkempt after the school day. “You’re not even watching,” She replied for the first time after having done the same serve more than ten times already.
“I don’t need to, I know you’re not doing it correctly,” He replied, monotonously.
She clenched her jaw, “Well as my coach, aren’t you supposed to show me how I’m meant to do it correctly?”
“I can show you but it won’t change anything,” He said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He sighs and sits up, “You already know how to do a flat serve, I’ve seen you do it. You’re just not hitting it hard enough. I can hear it in the way the ball lands on the other end of the court.”
“You could have just told me to hit it harder,” She retorts.
“Am I meant to play the game for you as well?” He quips which makes her blood boil.
This was their third training session, and Y/N had reached her limit. With her first proper tournament just three weeks away, she had hoped that seeking help from the best tennis player at Crestwood would elevate her gameplay.
However, Y/N was getting frustrated with each session being a monotonous repetition of drills she had already learnt herself. It grated on her nerves and she felt as though she was back to square one.
She was beginning to regret having enlisted Harry for his mentoring in the first place. Whenever they’d try to talk mutually to each other, it would just end up in an argument of some kind where they’d end up needing ten minutes to cool off.
Y/N had already qualified for the Academy Slam before she even asked Harry to coach her. There had originally been sixteen academies from the surrounding counties competing in the games and now there were only half and Y/N was one of them. She’d passed the qualifiers all by herself and maybe she could pass the games that way too.
“Again,” He said that one word Y/N was beginning to hate.
Who knew what she was capable of if she had to hear that word one more time.
Feeling a surge of anger, Y/N tossed the ball into the air and hit it with all the strength she could possibly summon. She watched as the ball made a fast and straight trajectory towards her target area which just so happened to be right beside Harry’s place on the bench.
He jumped up, a look of surprise on his face. "What the fuck?" he exclaimed, eyes following the ball as it hit the fence.
Y/N's smirk wavered as he approached her, her surprise matching his when he spoke again. "Let's move on, shall we?"
By the end of the session, every inch of Y/N's body throbbed with exhaustion. She drained an entire water bottle in one go, her fitted polo shirt clinging to her damp skin. She had thought she'd engaged every muscle in her body, but the way her calves screamed at her with every step told a different story.
“Same time tomorrow?” Harry asked, standing above her and blocking the sunlight.
“I want to start training properly,” Y/N stated.
“We are training properly,” He argued.
“You realize you haven’t shown me a single tactic since you started coaching me right?”
“And?”
“How am I meant to win the first tournament if all I know how to do is basic drills?”
“Do you know how many times my coach made me practice flat serves before we could move on?” He asks but she doesn’t answer, “A month. I went home with blisters on my hands because I was doing them non-stop six hours a day.”
Y/N’s eyebrows raise, “You think tennis is just about being tactical then you’re not playing it properly. The only way you’ll ever be a good tennis player is if you master the techniques.” He explains, “I’ve seen you play Y/N. For someone who has never had professional coaching, you are one of the best players I’ve seen but you lack confidence in your technique. That flat serve you just aimed at me? One of the best flat serves I’ve seen in a while. If you can do that in every game, you’ll have no problem winning but if you want tactics? I can draw you a diagram and it’ll save two hours of my day no problem.”
Y/N tries not to show her surprise at his words. Instead, she takes them all in, “Shouldn’t we at least be analysing my opponent?”
She was playing against Vanya Maddison in her next game. She was tall which was a major advantage in the game but her spatial awareness wasn’t exactly on par.
“Do you know what your biggest strength is in this game?” Harry asked.
“My speed?” Y/N frowned.
“Your anger,” He replies, “Off the court, it’s a little annoying but on the court, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Use it.”
Y/N had no idea whether to take it as a compliment or not. She’d never heard Harry say anything good about her so was taken off guard by his words. “So are we still on for tomorrow because I have to meet Mitch in thirty minutes and if the answer is no at least I can actually plan on getting wasted tonight.”
Y/N took a moment to think. She had never expected him to say something positive about her, especially about her anger. It was a side of herself she often struggled to control, but hearing Harry acknowledge it as a strength left her feeling conflicted.
As much as she considered training on her own which would give her some peace and quiet, she wanted to see where her training with Harry would go. If he was right, maybe she’d actually have more of a chance of winning than she did on her own.
She stood up and put her gym bag over her shoulder, “See you tomorrow,” She walked past him, wanting to avoid the satisfied grin on his face.
“Y/N!” Harry called, she could hear him jogging towards her before she stepped out of the courts, “I wanted to give this to you.”
He placed in her hands a cassette tape with white masking tape on it with the words ‘Y/N’s theme songs’ scribbled onto it in black ink. “What is this?” She asked, looking up at him.
“When I was in Australia, I used music to help me get in the zone before a match. My coach told me to use a cassette tape because phones were too distracting,” He explained.
“You made this for me?” She frowned.
“What? You’ve never been given a gift before?” He chuckles.
Y/N looks down at the plastic in her hands. It’s not that she’d never been given a gift by anyone before- she and Sarah always exchanged gifts over Christmas and for each other’s birthdays- but it was rare for her to ever receive anything from anyone else. Her parents would often give her practical things at Christmas or transfer money into her bank account on birthdays.
Harry’s eyebrows furrowed at her lack of reply but she cleared her throat, “I don’t have a cassette player,” She said but Harry quickly removed his backpack and pulled out a walkman.
“You can borrow mine,” He handed it over to her, “I won’t be needing it anytime soon since I’m not playing,” She noticed the downcast look in his eyes as he mentioned the fact he wasn’t currently able to play with his injury.
“Um, t-thanks?” She said, unsure of how to respond to his sudden kindness. It felt unusual.
“I picked a few songs that reminded me of you,” He smirks, “Don’t worry, they’re not all about a girl with an attitude problem.” With that he turned back around and walked towards the other exit to head to the car park.
She felt ease on her chest as the usual teasing remarks returned, “Asshole,” She called out to him to which he just put his middle finger up in reply.
. . .
After taking a long shower in the girl’s shower rooms in her dorm block, Y/N headed back to her dorm after changing into a white shirt and sweatpants. She could feel the strain in her arms and legs as she flopped down onto her bed.
Luckily Sarah wasn’t back from spending time with Mitch, so she took in the peace and quiet which came rare to her these days as all her mind had been on recently was the Academy Slam.
Her mind wandered off to Harry and his words from earlier. Y/N knew she was a good tennis player but it was the first time she had heard someone else tell her that. She wasn’t expecting it, especially not from her tennis rival of the past ten years.
Her eyes glanced at the cassette tape and the walkman she had placed on her desk before she headed off to the shower. Sitting up, she grabbed it and stared down at it for a moment before putting the cassette into the player and putting the headphones on.
She laid back on her bed and looked up at the ceiling of her room. Her fingers hit the play button and the first song began to flood her ears. The first few beats of Nelly Furtado’s ‘Maneater’ began to play and she immediately rolled her eyes. Then afterwards, ‘Fergalicious’ by Fergie.
She wondered how many songs Harry had managed to put on the cassette and how many were female anthems of empowerment.
The next song seemed to catch her attention even further when Gorillaz ‘She’s my collar’ began to play. The beat now permanently injected into her bloodstream along with the rest of the album from the number of times she had listened to it.
She wondered if Harry had known he had included a song by one of her favourite bands and whether he knew the meaning behind the song too. Maybe it had been a coincidence which was a thought Y/N had decided to settle on as she listened to the rest of the song.
‘Nothing to be justified yet
She the first I'm running with
She the one that get my collar
She the one I'm running with (she's my collar)’
. . .
The next day at school, Y/N sat in the library during her study period to study for her biology exam at the end of the week. Even though she was set on the scholarship, she still needed something to fall back on if she lost out in the next few games so she made sure she was still getting the best grades she could. It had also been ingrained in her to be the best in every class and she didn’t think that trait of hers would ever leave her.
“Y/N!” Sarah called, her voice echoing within the silence of the library.
Ignoring the irritated glances she received, she paced towards Y/N and sat in the empty seat beside her. Y/N smiled at her friend’s excitement. They were foils to each other and that’s what made them get on so well. Whilst Y/N had a black cat personality, Sarah was sunshine in a person which was probably why she was so perfect for Mitch who was equally as bright. “What’s up?”
“I need to ask you something and you’re probably going to hate me but Harry’s already said yes and-”
“Sarah,” Y/N placed her hands on her shoulders, “Breathe.”
Sarah did exactly that before continuing, “Would you do a feature with Harry for the school newspaper?”
Y/N frowned, “What?”
“The school newspaper? You know the club I’ve been part of for the past two years? They want to do a feature on your training for the sports section and I told them I would ask you.” Sarah explained.
“Oh I don’t know about that-”
“Pleeeassseee,” Sarah gripped her arm that was resting on the desk and batted her eyelashes.
“You know I’d do anything for you Sarah but I don’t know if I have the time and my focus is on my next game,” Y/N replied.
“Harry’s already said yes to it,” Sarah interjected.
“You asked him before me?”
“Well actually,” Sarah hesitated, “Luke, the boy who’s writing the article, asked him this morning,”
“Why didn’t he ask me?”
Sarah gave her a pointed look, “You’re not exactly the most approachable,” Y/N’s frown deepened at her words, “So will you do it?”
Y/N sighed, considering it before giving Sarah an answer. The last thing she wanted was for someone to be asking unnecessary questions in time that could be used to train for the first round of the competition but Sarah was her best friend and she knew how much the school newspaper meant to her and her university applications too.
“Alright,” She relented, “I’ll do it.”
Sarah squealed, receiving another round of vicious glares from other students in the library. Her arms wrapped around her in a tight hug, “Thank you,” She pulled away, “They’ll come by tomorrow afternoon during practice, is that okay?” Y/N nodded a response.
. . .
It was raining outside.
Y/N’s eyes stared out the window as she bounced a tennis ball on the hard floor of the gymnasium and wondered if the weather foreshadowed the next hour.
“Will you sit down?” Harry muttered, “You’re giving me a headache,”
“He’s late,” Y/N says, “We could have been practising,”
“Do you ever just do anything else?” Y/N shot him a glare at his sarcasm, “I get this is important to you but don’t you just want to, I don’t know, have fun?”
Y/N walked over to her seat right next to his and straightened herself for the interview the school newspaper had organised for them. Sarah had told both her and Harry to dress smartly for the occasion which, according to Harry meant a designer sweatshirt and trousers whilst Y/N had gone for a dress and pumps. It wasn’t overly smart for either of them but enough to make it seem like they had made an effort.
“The fact that you’re even suggesting that tells me you have no idea how important this is to me,” Y/N responds, monotonously.
She hears a scoff from beside her, “What?”
He turns to face her, his face rather too close, she notices three moles on his right cheek that she hadn’t ever seen before, “I think I know better than anyone how important this is to you but I also know from experience how important being in high school is with people your own age.” She forgets sometimes that even though he was whisked away to fulfil his place in the Australian Open, that his time of being a kid was cut short, “I don’t go out of my way to coach just anybody,”
“What do you mean?” She frowns but before Harry could reply, the doors to the gym open and in scrambles a sixth year with a messenger bag and a tripod with a camera dangling from his neck.
“It means,” he leans forward, murmuring, “if you had half the belief in yourself as I have in you then you wouldn’t need me at all.”
“Sorry I’m late,” Luke’s voice echoes as he steps towards them and places all three legs of the tripod on the ground and scrambles to screw his camera to it.
“What’s with the camera?” Y/N asked.
“O-oh, we’re recording the interview so I can write everything up later and we’re going to need your pictures together afterwards,” Luke explained.
“You want us to take a photo together?” Y/N frowned.
“Did Sarah not tell you?” Luke replied.
“Calm down, love. It’s just a photo,” Harry murmured and she tried not to react to the nickname he had used for her.
Once everything was set up, Luke sat across from them with his laptop on his thighs, questions already typed out, “So, you two have known each other for a while now?” Luke asked as he sat across from them.
As Y/N was about to tell him how they didn’t exactly know each other on a personal level but knew each other through tennis, Harry spoke up, “Since we were both in third year. I was eight and Y/N was seven but we’ve been in the same class since we were infants.”
Luke nodded, “That must help a lot in your partnership,”
Harry chuckled lowly, “Something like that,”
Luke types a few things down in his computer before turning his attention to Y/N, “Um, Y/N what made you turn to Harry for his coaching other than the fact he won the Australian Open?”
Y/N frowned, what more reason did she need to give? “Well, the fact he won is a big reason as to why I approached him,”
“But isn’t he injured?” Harry stiffened beside her. The way he asked made it sound like he was defective, unusable.
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, “Yes but I’ve seen Harry play games with a dislocated shoulder. He’d just pop it right back in and start playing again. His current injury doesn’t take away from the fact that he’s one of the best tennis players I’ve seen at Crestwood.” Y/N ignored the looks from the two boys. She knew she’d have to compliment Harry at some point during this interview, especially if they needed to show a united front for the games.
“And do think the same about Y/N?” Luke asked Harry who now seemed irritated by him.
“I think,” Y/N was prepared for a backhanded compliment but what she got was something entirely different, “Y/N has all the potential in the world to go for what she dreams of and I hope to watch her do it all even if that means I’m watching from the sidelines.” This time it was Y/N’s turn to glance at Harry, taken aback by his words.
Luke spoke again, “You know some people are calling you the underdog in this tournament?” Y/N froze, it was the first time she had heard of it, “all the other women competing have had professional coaching and the school invests heavily in their tennis players.”
Y/N cleared her throat, “I didn’t know that but I have every intention of proving them wrong,” Harry bumped his knee with hers but she ignored it.
“And What do your parents think about you doing this before leaving exams?” Luke asked.
Y/N ignored the sting she felt at the thought of telling her parents what she was doing and the looks of disappointment she envisioned, which had been gnawing at the back of her head since she qualified. She answered confidently, "They're happy for me and excited to see me in the final."
Harry furrowed his eyebrows as Luke leaned in, his expression curious. "You think you'll get to the final?"
Harry scoffed, “Are you insinuating she won’t?”
Luke backpedalled slightly, sensing he’d struck a nerve. "I didn't mean to suggest that at all. It's just that some people doubt the capabilities of those who haven't had professional coaching."
"Hey Luke, do me a favour and invite those people to the first game in three weeks' time. Let them witness firsthand what it's like watching a player as skilled as Y/N, without any professional coaching," Harry's frustration was palpable, catching Y/N off guard with his assertiveness. Typically, she would be the first to break in such situations but it seemed Harry already had.
Luke’s face warmed as he realised he overstepped, “R-right, let’s move on.” He scanned through his list of questions to find something more light-hearted to break up the mood, whilst Y/N straightened her shoulders, thankful they’d gotten to the final round of questions. “What do you both like to do outside of training?”
“Together?” Y/N cringed, trying to picture spending time with Harry in a normal setting.
“Not necessarily,” Luke shrugged.
“My best friend is dating her best friend so we’ve been spending a lot more time together recently. Normally, I play guitar or recite poetry whenever I’m not coaching Y/N to volley properly,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the lies that left his mouth.
“I study,” Y/N stated.
“That’s it?” Luke’s eyebrows creased.
Her cheeks turned slightly pink, “I’m top of the class in all of my classes, that doesn’t just happen without hard work.”
She could feel Harry’s eyes on her and for the first time, she turned her head to catch his eyes. She noticed the frown on his lips and something in his eye that looked a lot more like concern or sympathy than the desire to tease her about her lack of social life.
“Well, I think that will be enough,” Luke stood up and grabbed his camera, “Do you mind if we take a few photos now?”
Y/N and Harry stood from their seats, side by side and looked into the lens of the camera. Y/N’s cheeks hurt from forcing a smile as Harry did the same, “You’re standing too close to me,” Y/N spoke through her teeth as the camera flashed.
"Look who's talking with their giant foot squashing my shoe," Harry retorts, a playful glint in his eyes. Y/N inhales sharply, her gaze dropping to her foot to see what he's referring to. But before she can react, Harry smoothly slides his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side with practised ease. Their eyes meet, and just as the camera flashes, capturing the moment, Y/N side steps out of his grip with an annoyed huff.
“Okay, that will be all,” Luke smiled.
As Luke packed his things away, Y/N and Harry stood awkwardly side by side without saying a word. Y/N glanced out the window and saw the sky had cleared up and the sun was setting. She needed to get back to her dorm to study for her French exam tomorrow as well as binge-watch tennis matches on YouTube which she’d been doing a lot recently.
“Did you really mean that?” Harry asked, catching her attention, “All you do is study outside of school?”
Y/N looked at him, “I hang out with Sarah some days but yeah, I mostly study. I don’t really have a lot of choice and I’m not naturally smart.” Harry’s head tilted to the side like he was secretly questioning her in his head, “What? Aren’t you meant to crack a joke about me being stupid or something?”
Harry's eyes softened, his voice gentle. "I could never think you're stupid, love," he said, the nickname slipping from his lips with a tenderness that caught Y/N off guard. She found herself speechless, unable to figure out what had gotten into him recently.
He pulled out his car keys from his back pocket and motioned his head towards the gymnasium exit, “C’mon,” He urged, “I wanna try something out and before you ask, it’s nothing to do with tennis or studying.”
Y/N’s feet stayed glued to the ground as he walked away and expected her to follow. She furrowed her brows and crossed her arms, wanting to refuse his invitation so she could get back to her dorm. But curiosity got the better of her and she followed a few paces behind him as he led her to the empty car park.
Harry pressed the button on the car keys and the lights flashed on a black Audi hiding in the corner, “What are we doing?” She asked.
“Have you ever driven a car before?” He wondered, looking at her with a hint of mischief.
“Never,” She replied and was bewildered to see him open the door to the passenger seat instead of the driver’s seat.
“Looks like it’s your lucky day, love,” He smirked.
Y/N’s eyes widened, “N-no! Harry, I'm not driving your stupidly expensive car.”
“C’mon,” Harry chuckled, “Don’t be chicken.”
She scoffed, “I’m not being chicken, I’m being sensible. If I crash that car, I don’t even think my parents will have enough money to fix it.”
“My parent’s will,” He grinned, cockily, “Get in,”
“No, I’m not driving that car.” She insisted.
Five minutes later, Y/N sat in the driver’s seat of Harry’s Audi with her fingers over her eyes as he instructed her on how to start. “Are you crazy?” She whimpers as he switches the engine on.
“Stop worrying, I’ve got my hand on the break.” She looks down to see his hand already wrapped around the hand break, “Just stay calm and do what I told you to do. Clutch down, first gear and then ease your foot gently off the clutch.”
“You’re supposed to be teaching me tennis, not driving laps around the school parking lot,” Y/N argued.
“Think of this as a team bonding exercise,” He shrugged, “Okay now foot down on the clutch,”
“This is the worst idea you’ve ever had,” She strangled out, placing her shaky hands on the wheel.
“Relax,” Harry chuckled, “You’re being dramatic.”
“It won’t be so dramatic when we end up in a tree,” Y/N retorted as she carefully felt the pedals and pressed down slowly on the clutch. Feeling the car rise, Y/N gasped and removed her foot.
“Calm down, it’s just because you put your foot on the clutch,” Harry was trying his best not to laugh at her, “Okay, now do it again.”
Y/N squeezed her hands on the wheel and repeated her actions, moving the gear stick “Okay, now carefully raise the clutch,” Harry instructed and as she did, he lowered the handbrake and the car slowly began to move forward.
“Holy shit,” Y/N wailed, “We’re moving,”
This time, Harry did laugh unable to stop himself after seeing her reaction, “Make sure you turn the wheel or we really will end up in a tree,”
Y/N did as she was told and turned the wheel slowly, “Okay, I’ll move into second,”
“Harry no!” She gasped but put the clutch down so he could move gears.
“Atta girl,” He beamed.
Y/N’s worried expression soon turned into shock and then excitement as she moved slowly around the car park, “I’m driving Harry!” Y/N grinned and Harry swore it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
“You are,” He praised, “There’s nothing you can’t do.”
After switching between first and second gear and Y/N complaining that her feet were aching from how tense she was using the pedals, Harry offered to swap places and show her what it was really like to go out on an evening drive.
“Harry!” Y/N choked on a laugh as he went all the way up to sixth gear down the empty streets in the middle of nowhere, “Slow down,” She squealed.
Harry glanced at her, grinning when he saw how wide the smile was on her face. He pressed his finger on the button to wind down all the windows, “Oh shit I love this song,” He turned the volume up on the stereo as Beyonce’s ‘Love on Top’ started playing, blaring loudly through the speakers of his car.
“Baby it’s you! You’re the one I love! You’re the one I need!” Harry screamed the lyrics of the song and Y/N’s laughter sounded through the entire car as her hair blew behind her. “Sing it, baby!” He cheered, neither of them realising what he had called her.
“I’m not gonna sing it,” She shook her head, her eyes squeezing shut as the engine revved.
“It’s the only way I’m gonna slow down,” He teased as the build-up to the chorus played.
Y/N giggled as Harry began to sing solo to the chorus again, giving her a look that had her rolling her eyes before she screamed out the lyrics alongside him, “When I need you, make everything stop! Finally, you put my love on top!”
Their laughter merged together as the song played out. Harry slowed down the closer they got back to town and cast a sideways glance at Y/N who was brushing her wind-swept hair with her fingers. “You okay?” He asked, seeing the glow on her face.
“Yeah,” She bit her lip, “I’m okay. I just don’t get to do stuff like this… ever really.”
He nodded in understanding. Harry had met Y/N’s parents a few times before. His parents were frequent visitors to their country club so he knew what they were like but he had no idea of the extent of the pressures they had put on Y/N to do well. It reminded him of his own parents and the last thing he wanted to do was allow someone to feel the same way he did whenever his parents were too hard on him.
“Wanna pull in somewhere to get something to eat?” Harry asked. It was getting late and they both had school tomorrow but he couldn’t seem to allow himself to let her go- not when she was having so much fun.
“Okay,” Y/N nodded.
He pulled into a dessert shop that was still open. Y/N followed him inside and to a booth in the corner. Harry ordered both of them bowls of soft-serve ice cream and Y/N even asked if she could have a strawberry milkshake to go with it. “I shouldn’t really be eating,” She told him.
“Hmm I heard drinking strawberry milkshakes improves your footwork. They served them all the time in Australia,” Y/N shot him a look that told him she knew he was bullshitting her but it made him smile.
“Are you nervous about the game coming up?” They’d been training non-stop every evening and Y/N was quickly improving everything she had already learnt on her own. After considering Harry’s words a few days ago, she knew Harry was right. He had been good for her technique and she felt even more sure of herself than she did at the beginning.
“No,” She said coolly, “I don’t have time to be nervous.”
Harry scoffed, “I don’t believe that for a second.”
The waitress came over and placed their desserts in front of them, along with a strawberry milkshake with whipped cream and a cherry on top. “Mitch says he’s going to throw a party at my place if you make it through to the semi-finals.”
“A party at your place?” Y/N quirked a brow.
Harry sighs, “He came up with the idea of throwing a party and then just kind of decided it would be at mine.” He explained.
Y/N nodded and took a sip of her milkshake. It had been so long since she had had something so sugary and sweet. She hummed before realizing she was being watched by the boy opposite her, “Just so you know, even though you bought these desserts and taught me how to drive, doesn’t mean I like you.”
Harry laughed, his eyes crinkling and dimples carving into his cheeks. Y/N’s heart stuttered but she pushed the feeling down, “Okay, tomorrow you can go back to hating me again and we’ll pretend today didn’t happen.”
“And you can do the same,” She says.
Harry gives her a look, his eyes flashing with something she couldn’t put a label on, “I don’t hate you Y/N.”
She frowns, “You’ve always hated me,”
“No,” He shook his head, “Never.”
“But you’re always making fun of me,” And she always did the same.
“Because it’s the only way I get to speak to you.” He admits.
Y/N’s lips parted in surprise, unable to believe what she was hearing. She had always assumed Harry had hated her since their rivalry had gone on for so long. She didn’t know what to say, confused by the sudden revelation.
“Ew,” It came out before she even had time to think, “Don’t be nice to me, it’s making me uncomfortable.”
Harry seemed to deflate but quickly placed a smile on his face, “You make me uncomfortable and you’re singing, by the way, is awful.”
Y/N scoffed, "At least I don't sound like a dying goat." Despite the return of their familiar banter, her heart seemed to continue to flutter under Harry's earnest gaze, stirring a mix of emotions within her that she’d never felt before.
She didn’t know what was going on with her but the last thing she needed to think about was her emotions when her biggest goal to date was right before her.
. . .
Three weeks had gone by far too quickly for Y/N’s liking.
“Again,” Harry drawled.
Y/N gritted her teeth and repeated the backswing technique Harry had shown her but the angle was all wrong and the ball ended up going completely off court.
“Fuck,” Y/N spat, throwing her tennis racket on the floor and squatting, balling her hands into fists on her head.
Harry sighed, walking over. “You’re nervous about tomorrow,” He stated like he didn’t need her to confirm despite the fact she had constantly told everyone she wasn’t nervous about anything.
“I just need to win,” She mumbled.
“Get up,” Harry ordered.
Y/N did as she was told and stood up. He grabbed the racket from the floor that she’d thrown across the court like a toddler throwing their toys out a pushchair and flipped the racket between both of his hands. He handed it back to her and grabbed his own.
“I want you to mirror my actions,” He says and stands a few steps away from her.
He steps forward, tossing the tennis ball into the air before swinging his racket with both hands, expertly landing it in the left corner of the opposing court. Y/N tracks his every move, mimicking his actions as if she were his shadow.
Y/N’s ball lands slightly off target and Harry bites his lip to stop himself from smiling at the scowl on her face. He walks towards her and comes up behind her. Y/N’s breathing hitches when she feels his fingertips press gently on her arm.
“You need to straighten this arm more,” He advises, his fingertips sliding down her arm and leaving a trail of goosebumps as he straightens her arm out. “Calm down,” he murmurs, his mouth near her ear, “I can feel your heart beating.”
Y/N seems to lose every ounce of oxygen when he places his hand flat against her back where he can feel her heart beating, “Breathe,” He says, “You will win tomorrow, I will make sure of it.”
The warmth that flooded Y/N’s body quickly left as Harry took a step back, “Try it again,” He nodded towards her racket.
Y/N sighed, tensing her muscles again after Harry had practically managed to turn them into liquid. She tried to ignore the flutter in all of the pulse points in her body that were screaming to make contact with that new presence and swung her racket, landing the ball exactly where she wanted.
“There y’ go,” He murmurs, almost as if he was saying it to himself. “I think we should call that it for today,”
“What?” Y/N frowned, “The game is tomorrow, I need to practice.”
“Y/N, we’ve been practising for half the day already. You’re going to wear yourself out if you carry on,” Harry tells her.
“Fine,” She huffed but Harry gave her a knowing look.
“Come to my place,” He offers.
“Why would I do that?” She goes to grab her sweatshirt on the bench and pulls it over her head. It was getting colder now that the sun was going down.
“Because I know you’re just going to come back here once I leave and trust me, you don’t want to do that.” She opened her mouth to refuse but he continued, “We can watch Wimbledon on TV and order pizza.”
She wondered how he knew that Wimbledon was one of her favourite movies and pizza was her favourite food. “Is it the DVD exclusive?” Y/N asked.
Harry’s lips tilted upwards, “Of course,” Y/N nodded, following him to his car so he could drive them to his apartment.
Y/N remembered the last time she was in Harry's car three weeks ago. It was the first time Y/N truly enjoyed being in his company and the first time she had allowed herself to have fun and relax.
The day after, they resumed their usual arguing as if the previous night hadn't occurred. However, Y/N found herself overwhelmed by a surge of unfamiliar emotions swirling within her.
Despite the bickering, she kept noticing things about Harry—like the way he smiled and talked. It made her feel weird like there was something more between them that she hadn't noticed before.
The air was silent between them as the radio played lowly in the background. Harry turned into a block of apartments that looked far too expensive for a student to afford all by themself. “This is where you live?” Y/N asked, her eyes widening as he pulled into a spot.
“For now,” He says.
Y/N trailed behind Harry as they rode the elevator to the fifth floor and made their way to his apartment. When he swung open the door, flooding the space with light, Y/N couldn't help but notice the spaciousness of the apartment, as well as its emptiness.
“I haven’t had time to unpack,” Harry said, walking to the kitchen after kicking his shoes off, “Do you want anything to drink?”
“I’ll just take a glass of water,” Y/N’s eyes darted to all of the boxes that covered the floor.
She walked to the kitchen area and leaned against the counter, “Are those your trophies?” She asked, seeing the metal cups in an open box.
Harry smiled, “Yeah, I’ve kept all of mine even the ones that didn’t count.”
“They all count,” Y/N grins, walking over and pulling one out, “The battle of the sexes trophy.”
Harry smirked, walking round to stand beside her, “I still remember the look on your face when they handed me that trophy. If looks could kill, love, I don’t think I would be here.”
“It was a big deal to me okay?” Y/N replies, “I seemed to blame you for all my losses when I was a kid.”
Harry’s expression softens and his head turns to look at her, “Will you blame me if you don’t win tomorrow?”
Y/N’s smile falters, “No, I’d blame myself. I think if I lost this, I don’t know who I would be anymore. Tennis is my life.”
Harry’s eyes glint underneath the soft lighting of the kitchen, “God,” He whispers, “You drive me crazy y’ know that?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Do you think you could love anything more?” He asks, ignoring her question.
“I can’t think of anything, if I did I’d have to love it an awful lot.”
“Okay,” He nods like he’s accepting a challenge.
Y/N narrows her eyes, “What are you thinking?”
“Nothing,” He shrugs, “But I want you to know-”
Before Harry could finish his sentence, the door swings open and the shrill sound of his mother’s voice fills the air. Y/N stands straight and she notices Harry tense up, taking a step in front of her, he pushes her behind him.
“Harry,” His mother sighs, “How are you darling?”
“Mum,” He replies, curtly, “What are you doing here?”
“Your father’s running late home so I thought I would come by to see how you were,” She says and then looks behind him.
Y/N doesn’t need Harry to introduce her as she steps forward and holds out a hand, “Hi Mrs Styles, it’s nice to see you again.”
"Y/N?" Anne gasped, her eyes widening in surprise. "You've grown so much, you're beautiful." She reached out, taking both of Y/N's hands in hers and giving her an appraising look.
Y/N's cheeks flushed at the compliment. "Thank you, Mrs. Styles," she stammered, feeling a mixture of nerves and warmth.
Anne smiled warmly. "Oh, call me Anne," she insisted before turning her attention to Harry. "I didn't know you two were such good friends."
Y/N and Harry exchanged a quick glance, both unsure of how to respond.
"I'm her coach," they both blurted out simultaneously, the words tumbling out in a rush.
Anne's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What?" she exclaimed, her gaze flitting between them. "You're coaching?"
Harry nodded, his expression serious. "Yes," he confirmed quietly.
"But Harry, your injury," Anne interjected, concern evident in her voice as she glanced down at his leg. "You're not meant to be—"
"I'm fine, Mum," Harry interrupted sharply, his tone making no room for argument.
"Harry, you know you can’t be playing-"
"I said I'm fine," Harry's voice rose, his frustration evident as he cut her off, causing Y/N to jump at the sudden outburst.
Anne's concern softened into a resigned sigh, her eyes reflecting a mixture of worry and understanding. "Alright, Harry," she relented, her tone gentler now. "Just promise me you're taking care of yourself."
Harry's features softened, a hint of remorse flickering in his eyes. "I promise, Mum," he said, his voice softer now, more subdued.
Anne nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Good. That's all I ask."
As the atmosphere relaxed, Anne turned her attention back to Y/N, her smile warm and welcoming. "Well, it's lovely to see you again, Y/N," she said kindly. “Tell your parents we’ll be stopping by in the spring.”
Y/N returned the smile, her earlier nervousness dissipating in the warmth of Anne's acceptance. "It was nice to see you too, " she replied sincerely.
Harry glanced at Y/N, a softness in his gaze that made her heart skip a beat. After seeing his mother out following her very brief visit, Y/N finally mustered the courage to ask, "What was she talking about?"
Harry's expression turned grave, his features shadowed by a sense of burden. "It was nothing," he replied.
"Why can't you play?" Y/N pushed, her concern evident in her voice.
"Y/N, I'm telling you to leave it alone," Harry warned, his tone firm.
But Y/N couldn't let it go. "If it's nothing, then why can't you tell me?" she insisted, her frustration bubbling to the surface.
"Because it's none of your business, that's why," Harry snapped, his words cutting like a knife.
"Nothing I do or say has anything to do with you, so go back to hating me because it's a hell of a lot easier than what I have to deal with."
Y/N's heart sank at his harsh words. With a deep breath, she crossed her arms, her resolve hardening. "You know, now I remember why we never got along in the first place," she retorted, her voice laced with bitterness. With a sharp turn on her heel, she made her way to the front door. "You're such an asshole, Harry."
"Y/N," Harry called out, his voice tinged with regret as she stormed out of his apartment towards the elevator. "Y/N, come on, don't be like that."
"Go suck a dick," she shot back, stepping into the elevator before Harry could stop her.
As the doors closed, Harry's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Let me drive you back, at least," he pleaded, his voice barely audible over the sound of the closing doors.
"Fine," Y/N huffed, her tone clipped with annoyance.
The car ride back to her dorm was tense and silent. When Harry pulled into the front of her dormitory, Y/N moved to open the door finding the silence far too uncomfortable. Then, out of nowhere, Harry's voice broke the silence. "I can't play tennis anymore," he confessed, his words heavy.
Y/N's heart stopped, her breath catching in her throat. "What do you mean you can't play anymore? That's ridiculous," she exclaimed, her disbelief evident in her voice.
Harry's hands tightened on the wheel, his knuckles turning white. "I mean I can't ever play tennis again," he admitted, his voice cracking with emotion.
"Are you serious?" Y/N asked, her voice trembling with shock.
"I tore my ACL during practice for the French Open. I—" Harry's voice trailed off, unable to continue, “It was so bad Y/N and I was in so much fucking pain and no one would listen to me. I went through multiple surgeries and rehab but the doctors sat me down and said I couldn’t play unless I wanted to fuck up my leg for the rest of my life.”
“Harry…” Y/N’s eyes glistened with tears.
Her breath caught in her throat as the weight of Harry's words sank in. She glanced over at him, seeing the pain etched in his features, and felt a surge of empathy wash over her. It was a devastating blow for someone who had dedicated their life to the sport they loved.
"I'm so sorry, Harry," Y/N whispered, her voice filled with genuine sadness for the boy beside her.
Harry managed a small nod, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, “That’s why I had to come back here. My father can barely look at me and my mother won’t leave me alone. At least here I can be around people my own age but when I’m at home, it’s fucking suffocating Y/N.”
Y/N didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t imagine losing the one thing she loved above anything else in the world and have to re-construct everything she had ever known to find something else to love just as much.
“I don’t expect you to say anything but I’d appreciate it if you showed me a little mercy,” He spoke.
“Why would you offer to coach me then? Would that not make things worse?” She asked.
He looks at her, really looks at her, like there was something on the tip of his tongue he wanted to say but couldn’t, “I figured it would alleviate the pain.”
“But I saw you play, I watched you and you beat me,” She exclaimed.
“Yeah and it hurt like a bitch afterwards,” He shook his head.
Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She wondered why Harry had been unwilling to play against her during the training sessions and now she knew why. She felt awful, her heart was hurting for him.
“I don’t want you to feel pity for me and I don’t want this to change anything between us. I’m tired of being treated like a broken toy and I think it would kill me inside if you looked at me differently.”
Y/N stayed quiet, facing forward and collecting her thoughts before saying, “Thank you for telling me,” She murmured, “And it doesn’t change anything. You’re still an asshole,”
Harry laughed and then his pinky brushed the side of her hand, “You will be everything tomorrow.” He whispered.
Y/N’s heart fluttered at the soft edge of his words, “You think so?”
His eyes softened, “I believe in you, more than anyone in the entire world.”
She nodded, taking a deep breath and looking out the window. The tension had settled and now a newfound respect lingered between them.
She would win tomorrow, for herself and for him.
. . .
It had been a while since Harry had been to a tennis tournament. The last time he was on a court for an official match was well over six months ago, it was a challenger match he participated in during his training for the French Open before his life took a vast turn.
He sat in the stands with everyone else from Crestwood who had come to watch the first game. Although Crestwood Academy invested more in the football team than any other sport, the turnout had been pretty good and nearly every seat was occupied by a student or teacher.
On the opposite side was Eaststone Academy who seemed to have invested heavily in their merchandise for Y/N’s opponent. Everyone was either wearing a t-shirt with Vanya’s name on it or carrying a sign with supportive catchphrases written in bold marker.
Harry craned his neck in hopes of seeing Y/N preparing herself somewhere outside of the court but couldn’t find her anywhere. He’d sent her a quick message this morning and asked her if she needed anything but she insisted she wanted to be alone.
“Fuck, it’s good we got in the queue early,” Mitch came by with an anxious Sarah, holding two cokes in his hand. They were both wearing navy shirts and sweatbands around their heads, Sarah was holding a sign that had Y/N’s name on it.
“She’s gonna hate you for that,” Harry tried not to smile.
“Oh I already know,” Sarah said, “She watched me make it last night and then almost ripped in half when I asked her if I should bedazzle it.”
Harry’s expression changed into one of concern, “How was she?”
“She’s nervous but she insisted she was okay,” Sarah rolled her eyes, “You know how she is.”
He did, which was why he was willing to accept the fact she wanted to be by herself even though he was desperate to drive over there with strawberry milkshakes just so he could see that smile he had been dreaming about for the past three weeks.
Suddenly, Eaststone Academy stood from their seats and cheered as Vanya Maddison came onto the court. “I’ve never seen such long legs,” Sarah gasped, saying what both Harry and Mitch were thinking.
Harry’s heart pounded in his chest as the people around him stood on their feet. He glanced down to the court and his eyes fell on Y/N as she walked onto the court with a dip between her brows and her tennis bag over her shoulder.
She was wearing a white, pleated skort and a Ralph Lauren polo shirt. Her hair was slicked back as tightly as possible into a braid and her white runners were tied up on her feet. He noticed she was wearing earbuds in her ears and then found the walkman he had given her clipped to her skort. He smiled at that, wondering which of the many songs he had put together she was listening to.
“There she is,” Sarah pointed and then waved to get her attention.
Y/N held a hand over her face to block the sun and looked up at the crowd. When she caught sight of Sarah, she offered a friendly wave before her eyes landed on Harry. She gave him a nod of acknowledgement and then walked to her seat on the other side of the umpire.
“C’mon,” Harry murmured, feeling his palms sweating at the sight of her.
“She’s got this in the bag, H.” Mitch puts a hand on his shoulder.
Through the speakers, the umpire calls out the start of the match and everyone falls silent as both players walk to opposing sides of the court. Y/N bounces on her feet and swings her racket backwards and forwards as though warming herself up before the match starts.
When the first serve came, Y/N's reflexes kicked in. She returned the ball swiftly, keeping the rally going with her quick movements, remembering what Harry had taught her. Each exchange became more intense, but Y/N stayed determined, chasing down every ball.
When Vanya hit the ball for the other corner, Y/N ran towards it and returned the ball swiftly, earning the first point with a well-placed shot. The crowd erupted into cheers as Y/N gained an early lead.
“That’s my girl!” Harry clapped his heart in his throat.
But Vanya wasn't about to let up. With determination in her eyes, she fought back, winning the next two points with powerful serves and precise shots. The score was now in Vanya's favor, and the pressure was on for Y/N.
“Fuck!” Y/N released a growl and hit her racket against the floor before storming off to her seat. Harry was tempted to walk down and help her but he needed to let her see what she was capable of on her own.
Her anger was radiating from her, “I’d hate to get on her bad side,” Mitch said.
Harry couldn’t seem to reply as he leant forward with both his elbows on his knees. “C’mon, c’mon, you can do it.” He mutters, thinking of the first bit of advice he had given her.
“Do you know what your biggest strength is in this game?” Harry asked.
“My speed?” Y/N frowned.
“Your anger,” He replies, “Off the court, it’s a little annoying but on the court, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Use it.”
Y/N rolled her shoulders back and stood on her feet. She walked back to her line on the court and bounced the ball up and down on the ground before throwing it up in the air and hitting it with a flat serve, exactly the way Harry had taught her. Her anger radiated from her as she slammed the ball with her racket and hit it with such force it went flying to the other end of the court but not before bouncing inside the square right by Vanya’s foot.
Harry stood to his feet and pumped his fist into the air, “Holy shit!” Mitch exclaimed as Sarah cheered beside him.
They were now at match point and Y/N had to win this next round if she wanted to win the entire game.
The tension thickened in the air as people sat on the edge of their seats to see who would come out on top. This time, it was Vanya’s turn to serve as she launched the ball into the air and hit it with her racket to Y/N’s side of the court.
As Y/N unleashed powerful serves and precise shots, Harry found himself captivated by her every move. With each grunt of exertion, each flex of her muscles, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. Despite the shifting heads of the spectators around him as they followed the ball back and forth, his gaze remained fixed solely on her.
Every aspect of Y/N's play had him in a trance—the way her muscles rippled as she sprinted across the court, the intensity in her expression as she anticipated Vanya’s next move, the graceful sway of her hair with each swing of her racket.
But as Harry watched, something stirred within him. A warmth spread through his veins, igniting a fire deep within him. Suddenly, he felt a tightness in his shorts, a physical reaction to the raw power and determination radiating from Y/N on the court.
"Oh, fuck," Harry muttered under his breath, his heart racing as he glanced down and saw the undeniable bulge in his shorts. Panic surged through him, his mind reeling with embarrassment.
"What's wrong?" Mitch's voice cut through his thoughts, and Harry quickly lowered his drink to conceal his arousal.
“N-Nothing,” Harry forces a smile, “I need to use the bathroom.” He doesn’t wait for Mitch to respond as she pushes past everyone to get away from the crowd.
He walks quickly over to his car and jumps into the driver's seat, slamming the door behind him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He didn’t know what to do. He felt like he was thirteen years old after experiencing girls for the first time again. Was it wrong to rub himself off in the middle of a tennis match when all he was looking at was the girl who played his favourite sport better than anyone he had ever seen, dominating the game with her anger and intensity like she was a complete animal?
He couldn’t shake the image of her from his mind and his cock seemed to ache the more he thought about how beautiful she was on the court, completely in her element, anger and passion emitting from her. Every grunt and groan she made as she hit the ball with so much fervor had his head spiralling.
He looked down and tried to will it away, he needed to get back out there to see her win the game. He thought of every disturbing thing he could possibly think of and even took out his phone to google the quickest way to get rid of an erection.
The excited yells of the crowd told him someone had won and he prayed he would return and see Y/N with the medal around her neck.
After about ten minutes of taking deep breaths, he finally felt composed enough to leave his car. With a flustered face, he made his way back toward the court, silently praying for some kind of cosmic intervention to erase the embarrassing moment from his memory.
As he turned the corner, he spotted Mitch and Sarah engaged in conversation with Y/N, who was proudly wearing the gold medal around her neck. She had won - he knew she would.
Y/N's eyes lit up as she noticed him, a wide smile spreading across her face as she proudly displayed her medal. Unable to resist, he grinned back in response.
Sweat glistened on her skin, her cheeks flushed with exertion, and delicate strands of hair framed her face. At that moment, she radiated beauty, and he couldn't deny the sudden surge of emotions that had slowly been weaving themselves into the fabric of his feelings ever since he had returned to Crestwood.
If the past fifteen minutes were anything to go by, Harry knew this was more than just a game of tennis.
He was in trouble.
. . .
People cheered as Y/N entered Harry’s apartment with Sarah at her side, holding beer cans in the air and patting her on the shoulder as she sifted through the crowds of people. S&M by Rhianna played over the speakers as the apartment that was previously empty was now filled up with student’s from Crestwood.
“There she is,” Mitch’s voice yelled over the music, “Crestwood’s very own Serena Williams,”
“I wouldn’t go that far Mitch,” She chuckled, unable to stop herself from smiling so hard after the excitement of her first win.
Y/N’s eyes scanned the room as she went in search of the one person she wanted to see whilst everyone fell into conversation around her.
That’s when she saw him, leaning against the wall with a red solo cup in his hand. His hair was a tangled mess, and his body was adorned in a loose, white shirt, its u-neck revealing the inked pair of swallows beneath his collarbones and gold chain around his neck. On his legs, he wore a loose pair of black trousers.
Y/N held back a smile as she made her way over to him until she realised who he was talking to.
Her face fell as she saw the angelic blonde, tanned and glowing like she’d just come back from a holiday somewhere south of the equator.
Harry’s face lit up as Y/N approached until he realised what was going on.
“Hey,” He smiled, trying to distract her.
“Where were you?” Y/N snapped her gaze towards him.
“What do y’ mean? M right here,” He spoke, “You were incredible out there.”
“Who’s this?” Y/N ignored him, folding her arms and looking at the girl he was speaking to. Y/N knew exactly who she was but felt the need to act as though she had never seen her before.
Harry hesitated for a moment before introducing her. “Y/N, this is Astrid.”
Astrid flashed a dazzling smile at Y/N, her demeanour friendly yet confident. “Congratulations on the win today, Y/N. I’m looking forward to our match in the semifinals.”
Harry's reaction was immediate. “What?” he stammered, clearly taken aback.
“You didn’t know?” Astrid asked, surprised. “Y/N and I will be facing off in the semifinals.”
Y/N grit her teeth and forced a smile, the two girls eyeing each other up and down as Harry’s eyes darted anxiously between them.
Now that Y/N was into the semi-finals her next opponent was Astrid Anderson, one of the best junior, female tennis players in the county.
Who just so happened to be Harry’s ex-girlfriend.
#fic rec#harry styles fic rec#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles#harry styles blurb#harry styles x reader#harry styles imagines#harry styles fanfic#harry styles imagine#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#tennisplayer!y/n#tennis rivals#writing#harry edward styles#harry styles fic#fanfiction#one direction#harry styles blog#fanfic rec
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Gone
Pairing: Mafia!Max x Wife!Reader
Rating: PG-17
Words: 1.3K
Warnings: Kidnapping, major angst, Mad!Max etc.
Requested: Yes/No
A/N: Soooo I chanaged the request and I apologize for that as I barely changed request but I felt like the children being taken would've fit better. Hope you love it!
Standing outside the school, you hold your little bump, smiling as you wait for the twins to come running out into your arms. You still can't believe you're wearing heels, but they help you see over some of the other parents, able to see all the babies come running.
Your guards stand on either side, your outfit perfect for the weather, a little blue dress that is flexible with your growing stomach. You see your twin's teacher and wave, wondering where your 5-year-old boys are. "Oh, Mrs. Verstappen, did one of the boys leave something?" Your guard's heads move around the yard quickly, trying to find the boys. "What do you mean, leave something?" You try to clamp down the panic. Maybe they had already rushed out of the building, and you didn't see them, and they're trying to find you.
"Two of your guards came to get them; they left about two hours ago." Taking a deep breath, you feel your world shift hearing that. "No, none of my guards came to get the boys." The teacher's eyes go wide, and you let out a little chuckle. "No, no, they must still be here. FABIAN! CASPER!" Your scream breaks across the yard, parents and children all looking at you as the guards rush around looking for the twins.
"Mrs. Verstappen," The teacher tries to touch you, but you back up, putting a protective arm around your stomach. "No! WHERE ARE MY SONS!"
----------------
Max has never moved so fast in his life, breaking every traffic law, as three huge black SUVs tried to keep up with him, but there was no point. He was driving far too fast for them to keep up. Pulling up to the school, he slams the car in park as hoards of police move around. Getting out of the car, he first clocks your sobs.
"Schat!" Max screams and shoves past the police, crumpling to his knees and holding you close. "Where are my babies? Where are they!" You sob, sitting on one of the benches. Max has you close, trying to keep his anger in check, needing to be there for you.
"Baby, sweet angel, you must calm down. You might hurt the baby. Take deep breaths, please, for me." Max begs, his eyes wide and wild; you nod, trying to calm down as Max's men finally arrive and rush into the school. The police know better than to get in the way.
Taking deep breaths, you shake, Max kissing your hands and all over your face. "We'll find them, I promise to you. I won't come home without our sons," he promises, kissing your wedding ring. Maxie, it's almost time for dinner. They're going to be hungry, tired, and scared." You sob again, Max growling, pulling you into his arms.
"Sir! We found something!" Max turns their head, seeing his men as people still run around and searching the area. "I'll be back, I promise. Take my wife home, now," He snaps, the men nodding as you sob harder, holding one of the twin's jackets. Max stares at the small article of clothing and feels his heart stop. His boys, his soul, and his babies have been taken, and he doesn't know by whom. Or who would be stupid enough to do it?
Throwing the school door open, he breaks the window and splits the wood as he stalks into the office. "There," They point at the computer showing the screen as the two boys walk with the two men, Max noticing the tattoos on their hands. "Goddammit! How the fuck, did you miss having two of our ENEMIES HERE!" Grabbing anything he can reach, he throws it, watching as it shatters to the floor and breathes heavily.
"Find my sons, or else people will start losing their heads. FIND ME BOYS NOW!" Max roars, the men scattering like bugs as he breathes heavily, staring at the frozen image of Fabby laughing while Casper looks scared. "Cassie, Fabby, I'm coming, I swear," Max whispers.
--------------------
"Fabby, I'm scared. said Daddy and Mommy here." Casper whimpers as Fabian moves closer to his baby brother, ensuring he is safe. "Don't worry, Daddy come." Fabian knew this wasn't right, and Casper was far more scared and gentler than him. Fabian holds his brother closer, and Casper starts to cry as they sit in the small, cramped, dark room. "Okay, Cassie, okay," Fabian whispers.
They both jump, screaming as they hear loud explosions and screams in Dutch and another random language. "Where. Are. My. Children?" Casper perks up, hearing their daddy's voice. "DADDY!"
Max rips his head to the side and feels his blood run cold, seeing they are inside a box. Running over, he trips as he rips the lead off with his bare hands, blood everywhere, as he looks down at his babies. "Cassie, Fabby," He whispers, and Fabian and Casper look up at him.
"Daddy, uppie!" Cassie whispers, holding his arms out; Max throws his gun away and grabs the boys, lifting them out and holding them close to his chest. Sliding down, he starts to cry, having been so terrified. "Daddy, I stayed strong for Cassie," Fabian whispers, his bottom lip jutting. Max sniffles, crying as he covers Fabby in kisses as Casper, sweet little Cassie, finally being safe, sleeps in his father's arms.
"You're so brave, my strong little cub." Max sobs and Fabian finally starts to cry. "Daddy, home." Max nods, standing on shaking legs, running on pure terror and adrenaline.
---------------
"Casper! Fabian!" You cry as Max enters the house holding the boys. "Mommy! Hungry!" Caspian laughs, and you sob, seeing they are okay as Max sits them down. They come running into your arms. "Are you and the baby okay?" Max whispers, sitting on the floor with you as the boys cuddle into your arms. We're okay now." Max nods and pulls you three into his arms.
You don't ask him about the tear stains, nor do you question the blood all over him either. "They're not going back to that school," Max makes a face, and you sigh as Casper and Fabby start to fight. "Yeah, it might've burned down," You can't help the wet chuckle that leaves your throat as you cuddle closer to your husband. Max sighs, "We need to go to bed," Max whispers, taking Casper, who giggles and snuggles into Max while Fabian gets sleepy in your hold.
Nodding, you take the boys to the bathroom, running a bath as the house crawls with guards. "We're never leaving them," You whimper as you help them undress. Max nods. He'd been scared before, but this terror he felt when he got the phone call stopped his world. Max couldn't breathe; he was terrified in a way he never wanted to feel again. The boys giggle and play in the bath as you stare at his hands. "They're fine, just some cuts." He explains, and you grab his hands, kissing them gently.
"Thank you, thank you for bringing our boys home." Max looks down and pulls you into his chest. "I'll always bring them home," Caspier yawns loudly, and you smile, both of you picking a twin up and getting them dressed in their favorite PJs. "Want to sleep with Mommy and Daddy?" Max asks; even if they said no, he wasn't going to allow it; he couldn't let them out his sight, terrified he'd wake up, and they'd still be gone.
"Yes!" They both giggle, and Max gently tosses them onto the bed as you climb in, wearing one of his shirts, Max. He undresses and cleans himself up as he stops and stares at Fabby curled on your chest practically, sleeping, and Cassie is sitting up, trying his hardest to stay awake. "Cuddles, Daddy." Max smiles softly, climbs into the bed, and pulls Cassie, you, and Fabian close, kissing each of you. Max takes a deep breath and sighs, closing his eyes as he listens to the soft breathing of his babies.
They were okay.
#f1#f1 fandom#formula one#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#f1 scenario#f1 imagine#formula 1#f1 fiction#f1 fanfiction#f1 fics#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 angst#f1 fluff#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen angst#max verstappen oneshot#max verstappen f1#mafia!f1#f1!mafia#mafia!max verstappen
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Just maybe ⎸ N.H
Pairings: Nico Hischier x reader
genre: friends to lovers
Warnings: swearing, fluff
synopsis: when a hopeless romantic doesn't pick up on hints.
word count: 2.3k
authors note: first Nico fic! i hope you like it. Requests are open.
missing the devils rn :(
Nico, Nico, Nico was all your mind would wander to, from late nights to early mornings your mind was crowded with the thought of him.
From every text to every lingering touch your heart ached for him.
Him.
The captain of the New Jersey devils.
Him.
The Swiss man who lives across the hall from you.
Him and his cute accent.
Him and the way his eyes light up when he smiles.
Him. Nico Hischier.
This was never new to you, love that is or more so how easily you love. Ever since you were young your mind and body was plagued by the thought of romance. You knew you were a hopeless romantic, how could you not be? Growing up you craved having love like in the movies. Was this the reason for your many heartbreaks? yes .
After every heartbreak your craving for love grew stronger, wanting to be held and kissed and loved just like you do, being cared for the way you care for others.
Unfortunately as of right now the only romantic tropes that had come to life for you was unrequited love. Living in the shadows of someone else's love and loss.
Nico knew about your love for romance movies, he knew you so well and it hurt you knowing that he would never love you the same way you love him. But your mind couldn't help but wonder, just maybe. What if he liked you back?
Just maybe did the tighter squeeze of his hugs mean something? could the way he plays your favourite songs whenever he is driving you somewhere be a sign? Could the way he holds your hand when moving through large crowds be a hint to something more? Or is it when he always sends you a good morning text when he wakes up?
Perhaps, just maybe did he love you back?
Your thoughts were interrupted when you saw your phone screen light up on your kitchen bench. You place down your warm cup of coffee and reach to read whatever it was that lit your phone up bright. A sigh left your lips when you read the notification, revealing that it wasn't from Nico. you were so far gone, the thought of replying to other people sometimes felt daunting or annoying but replying to nico felt light and effortless. Like you could talk to him for ever and ever without running out of things to say or feeling uncomfy.
Instead the notification was from tinder, your pathetic attempt at getting over the hockey player was to surround yourself with other equally attractive men.
However that was not the case, whatever dates you'd go on you couldn't keep your mind away from Nico. no man in your eyes was as good as him. The thought of anyone else felt foreign whereas Nico felt warm and homey.
Most of the dates you went on were unfavourable and rather unpleasant. You never were one for quick hookups due to your very annoying habit of catching feelings so fucking your way out of this slump was not an option for you, despite your girlfriends suggesting so.
You pull yourself back out of your trance when you receive a text message from your best friend, Stacie - regarding your plans for breakfast this morning. You pause for a second, reading the time that displays in the top corner of your phone, answering swiftly to confirm your whereabouts and ETA.
You turn your speaker on and press shuffle on your playlist, attempting to drown your thoughts as you get ready for the day.
X
You finish up your makeup and manoeuvre your way back around to the front door, grabbing your bag and filling it with whatever junk you may possibly need incase of a very uncommon emergency.
You walk out into the hallway, locking your door tightly. You turn around and are met with big brown eyes you have grown very familiar with. He sends you a warming smile, in turn making your lips curl into an unintentional smile. Your cheeks burn up as you step forward towards the tall swiss hockey player, meeting him on the other side of the hallway.
“Hey!” you speak, hoping to disguise your excitement.
“Hello” nico respondes, tucking his keys into his pocket. “Where are you off to?” he adds, shifting his weight from his foot to the wall, leaning against it.
“Gonna go meet stacie at the cafe down the street for breakfast, you?” you ask, tilting your head slightly, still smiling embarrassingly wide. “Morning practice, which i was gonna ask if you were coming to the game tonight?” he asks, smiling slightly, causing his dimples to appear.
His eyes god his eyes, sparkling under the light, staring deeply into your own.
“Of course I am! Wouldn't miss it, especially when I get special treatment from the captain.” you say, lightly punching his arm. Nico laughs, redirecting himself to stand up straight, “anything for you” he answers with a wink, turning his body towards the elevator. You stand there for a second, trying to stop yourself from turning completely red.
Nico waits for you to walk with him towards the elevator, the two of you slipping comfortably into a natural conversation.
You make it to the front of the apartment building, ending the intriguing conversation about playoff hockey and whatnot.
“Do you need a quick ride? I don't mind driving you?” Nico asks, stepping towards you.
“Nah, I'll be okay to walk. Thank you tho” you reply.
Nico nods and goes in for a hug only to be turned down by you rejecting the advance to turn it into a simple fist bump, cringing at yourself for the gesture. Nico looked a bit stunned at the rejection but shakes it off with a light chuckle, returning the fist bump.
“I'll see you at the game, Schatzi” Nico says, turning to walk towards the car park. You stand there for a second, running your hand through your hair “what the fuck was that? A fist bump??” you mutter under your breath before being interrupted by your phone ringing
“Hello?”
“Hurry up.” the phone call abruptly ends, putting two and two together you register that the unknown caller was stacie asking you to get your ass to the cafe.
You walk down the street,enjoying the sun that has peeked out through the clouds. You admire the atmosphere that surrounds the sidewalk, passing your way through the crowds and delicate shops placed around the streets.
Unfortunately for you all you could think about was Nico and his stupid cute dimples and his stupid fluffy hair and his stupid big brown eyes.
You find your way to the cafe, meeting Stacie at the outdoor seats.
“Finally you show up, I thought you died” Stacie says, standing up to hug you, her long Auburn hair tied half up, neatly falling just away from her face.
“Got caught up, sorry” you apologies, sitting down across from the girl. “From mr dimples i hope” she teases, sipping her pre- ordered latte with a smirk. I roll my eyes away from her, snickering. “Oh my god, it was him wasn't it?” her big eyes widened at the realisation. You don’t reply, simply smiling to yourself, playing with your fingers in your lap.
“Well you can tell me when your drink gets here, i got you a mocha since you were too late to order for yourself” Stacie chides. “Thanks Stac, you're too kind” you joke.
Your drink comes and the two of you order your food. Stacie looks at you with a playful smile, leaning forward to rest her head in her hands “so..what did you two talk about?” she chimes. “Just..hockey or whatever” you shrug. “Mhm” her lips curl into a smirk “you should just tell him you like him” “what?no no i can't, we are just friends.” i defend.
If almost pre planned your phone vibrates on the table, revealing a very suggestive message from Nico
Nico: can’t wait to see you tonight ;)
“What was that?” stacie questions, raising her eyebrow “can't wait to see you tonight? Hmm seems a little too friendly if you ask me” she mocks “its nothing, i'm going to his game tonight.” you beat off.
“Listen, you've loved him pretty much since you've met him, call him a friend or whatever but I know how friends act and trust me, he likes you for sure. I mean you've been on so many dates with other guys to get over him and how many of them have actually been successful?” she monologues, pausing to take a bite of her fresh banana bread.
“Trust me, he doesn’t think about me like that” you tally. “Well I'm just saying , you only live once and if you can't get over him then you might as well confess to him. At least if he rejects you then you can get closure and move on'' she states, once again leaving you speechless for a few seconds. She starts up once again after reading your worn expression.
“I've seen the way he looks at you yk?” your eyes meet hers “how does he look at me?” you question, confusing, staying evident in your expression. “Like he never wants to look away” she reveals. Once again sipping on her drink.
“Hmmm I mean i've never seen anyone else around his place, and when we go out he doesn't really talk to any other girls.” you recall “ exactly, just give it a go. It's not like the world will end.” she finishes before swiftly changing the subject to one of her new boy toys of the month.
‘The world won't end’ you suppose the world won't end in the literal sense but what if he stops talking then it might as well end. It's dramatic but your whole day revolves around even the smallest thought of nico.. What are you even supposed to think about otherwise?
surely just maybe he might like you, granted that everything stacie says is true, perhaps you should take your shot sooner than later.
X
X
Your heart beats steadily as you arrange your hair in half up pigtails, wrapping the hair tie with red and white ribbon. You unfortunately didn't have a jersey for this game so instead you decided to sport a white tank top with a red sweater in support of the devils.
Once again your mind grows to Nico, the excitement of seeing him runs through your veins. You were never nervous or anxious to be around nico, if anything you felt safer and warmer around him, that is except now. The weight of what sense Stacie knocked into you really stuck in your mind. You couldn't help but wonder if you should confess and if it's even a good decision.
Your worries are cut short when you look at the time and quickly make your way to the front door, checking yourself out in the mirror one last time before slipping your shoes on and making your way to the prudential centre.
X
You walk into the arena, finding your seat comfortably in the stands, watching the warmups. Nico had asked you to meet him before the game. He said that he wanted to see you. After warmups you make your way to the hallway that leads out onto the ice, waiting patiently for nico to come see you.
He makes his way towards you, standing directly in front of you. He stands there, waiting for you to snap out of whatever trance your mind has put you in. your fiddling with your fingers, staring at your shoes, picking at your nails lightly.
“You shouldn't pick at your nails” Nico says, reaching out to hold your hand. His voice pulls you out and startles you, you jump and flinch your hands away from him.
“Woah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you.” he apologises, eyes filled with remorse as he looks down at you. “No it's okay, just didn't realise you were there” you console, letting him reach for your hands once again, this time not flinching back. It's at this point that the other teammates are making their way back out to start the game. “When is the game gonna start?” you ask
“in a few minutes” he replies “just wanted to see you before it started” he adds, leaving you, standing there without a word “hey, what's going on inside that pretty head of yours?” he asks, bending down to read your face, his voice is calm and steady.
A sudden surge of confidence overwhelms you.
Fuck it.
You lean upwards, moving your body closer to his to attach your lips onto his. He is taken by surprise but it's not long before he shakes his glove off of his hand and reaches out to take hold of the back of your neck, pulling you in deeper.
You pull yourself away with a sharp inhale of air, nico face falling in a frown as you pull away.
“I like you.” you confess.
Nico stares at you, lips curling into a smile, his dimples becoming defined upon his cheeks.
“Yeah, I noticed.” he says, lowering his head back down to kiss your cheek.
Nico simply winks and jogs away towards the ice, looking back with a wide smile and blushed cheeks. The loud hollers and chirps are heard from the other devils players as they disappear through the doorway and onto the ice.
You make your way back to the stands, sitting down and watching the boys skate around , Nico playing perfectly as always. With best efforts, the game ends in a tight win, in favour of the devils. The crowd makes their way out of the arena and you're met with one more message from nico.
Nico: Meet me in the parking lot after the game, my car is parked around the corner. I'd like to take you to dinner if you're up for it?
Your face lights up, a smile breaking out, you bite your lip as you answer a yes, making your way towards his car.
Maybe.
Just maybe…
He does love you back.
#nico hischier#nhl hockey#nhl imagine#nico hischer x reader#nj devils#new jersey devils#friends to lovers
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My favorite part about the new episode is watching the kids dynamic with their pop pop
The fact that this serious stuck in his ways old man just adores his grandkids is so cute
And the kids love him too. I mean they call him Pop pop
THATS ADORABLE
#and I know some people might say ohh it’s cause he gives them money#ok yeah they love the cash but they also like spending time w him#I mean hes the one who needed bench time not the other way around#belcher kids#big bob#bobs burgers
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you mean everything - MV1 ೀ⋆｡🌷
summary: max needed a wedding date and you were used to being his fake partner.
tags: max verstappen x fem!reader, fake dating, friends to lovers, max is so whipped, fluff, a bit angsty maybe?, mentions of alcohol
word count: 2k
notes: i've been writing (and thinking) so much about max... my period is coming please give me a break i'm sensitive. also would love to get some feedback if possible so i know if it's worth making a series out of this!!!!
"If you want to make it believable at least hold my hand" you half-whispered to Max, who was buttoning his blazer while getting out of the car, you behind him.
"Sorry, I'm not used to this with you" he said chuckling. His sweaty palm held yours tightly, and the feeling of it was odd. Knowing Max for so long meant that these romantic gestures felt almost cringeworthy to you both, and you both had to put up award winning performances every time you played this game.
The game in question being fake-dating. It started as a funny joke where you both thought it would be great to test out the Get A Champagne Bottle For Free At This Restaurant If You Propose theory (which worked, by the way). From then onwards, you used each other as dates whenever asked by annoying family members, creepy coworkers, or just because you felt like lying.
The talking wasn't hard - you both felt comfortable in that part, lying with words coming off almost dangerously natural - but when it came to acting the part, both of you felt awkward, like kids who found relationships absolutely repulsive.
This time, though, the performance would last longer than usual: it was a wedding. Max's friend's wedding. Max could've just gone along, or bring a friend (even you as a friend). Yet he had told his friend, after one too many shots on his Bachelor's Party, and after being chosen as The Guy Who'll Take the Longest to Settle, that he had, in fact, a girlfriend. His friends didn't believe him, so he showed a picture of you two together - a selfie really, nothing much. And they still said they didn't believe it. So here you are.
You couldn't blame him, even if you wanted to. You agreed to use each other as a fake partner for as long as you could in as many situations as required, although when it all started none of you ever thought it would lead to wedding attendances.
So now there you were, Max's hand on yours, entering the small church. His eyes locked with the groom, who waved and called for you to sit near the altar.
"So you ARE real" he said, nervousness laced in his voice even as he tried to lighten the mood himself. You giggled at the irony of it, nodding as you said your congratulations.
"Just wait until the guys see this" he continued gesturing towards the bench where 3 other men around his age sat. Men you had seen before in some Instagram pictures, men you spent the previous night trying to memorize basic information about so you didn't sound suspicious.
Max's hand now fell on your waist almost instinctively - it wasn't instinctively, he told himself once he noticed its positioning. And if it was, it was only because he took this so seriously, almost as a sort of method acting. Sitting down next to his friends, he noticed how all of them seemed surprised at your presence, and something like pride filled his chest. He loved winning, loved being right even if he was lying; but most especially, he loved how jealous other men seemed to be over the fact that he was (at least in their minds) dating you.
He couldn't deny - though he tried, really - that you two looked good together. His rougher features mixed with your softer ones gave you both an aura of near unreachability, which yes, was pretentious of him to think but he thought nevertheless.
The ceremony was quick and endearing, a smile spread across everyone's faces at the shared loved between the bride and the groom. As the crowd clapped, Max leaned into you, "don't tell me you're crying". "I am, just to think that I'll have to keep pretending to date YOU for the next 10 hours" you replied, his mocking smile recognizing the joke.
The reception hall was beautifully decorated with shades of soft green and violet orchids. Max tried not to think about how much it matched the shade of your dress, how you looked like you had come to life from a classical novel. He tried to feel like anyone but Mr. Darcy as you felt so much like Elisabeth Bennett to him.
Sitting down next to him, you found this part easier - mingling and socializing was something you enjoyed more than he did - especially with alcohol in the mix. It's a wedding, you thought; this is what weddings are for.
So you drank the wine with the main course and sipper champagne to celebrate and ordered a few cocktails when it was time to dance and talk - and you felt it on your body almost as much as you felt Max's hand occasionally sitting on your thigh, but not even close to how strongly you felt his thumb caress your skin as he did so. Truth was, he too was drunk; his eyes looked smaller and his cheeks were flushed, and the amount of times he ran a hair through his dirty blonde hair had caused it to look messier. As you looked at him, you felt he never looks as attractive as when he is like this - loose and carefree, his shirt sleeves rolled up and a smile on his face when he notices people laugh at his joke.
"I have to admit I didn't think it was true" his friend said when Max left to go to the bathroom. He looked drunker than the two of you combined, his words hard to decypher, like a riddle. "He's been talking about you for months now and we never saw you for real so we thought you didn't exist" he laughed, and you laughed back before it registered.
"Months?" you asked him, eyebrows furrowed yet attempting to remain composed. You shouldn't have asked it - a supposedly month old girlfriend wouldn't be surprised but you were his fake month old girlfriend and you weren't understanding it anymore.
"Yeah. He talks about you so much all the time I think even we started to date you" he laughed again, yet this time you didn't find the joke so funny. You were frozen in your seat, merely blinking as if trying to put the confusing puzzle together, the pieces not quite fitting the way you thought they would.
A touch on your shoulder unfroze you, almost like magic, like a disney film come to life. You turned around to find the groom, somewhat sober, smiling at you while also looking somewhat concerned. "He's calling for you... And he's also absolutely wasted" he said, pointing to the door of the hall.
"Shit" you cursed, getting up from your seat at a speed you couldn't believe, worry filling your heart, making you forget the conversation you were just having.
Opening the door to the garden outside, you found Max sitting down against the wall, shirt partly unbuttoned and disheveled hair. When he saw you, he grinned, such genuine happiness laced with tipsiness.
"Lightweight" you mocked as you crouched in front of him, trying to balance yourself on your heels, somehow managing it despite your own drunkness.
"You're laughing at my mis- Shit- my misery" his throat bobbed up and down, exaggerating his own agony with a hand on his chest and another on his forehead like a Shakespeare character.
"I have to admit it's quite fun sometimes" you bit your lip as you fixed his hair as best as you could, hands brushing through its soft, blonde mess.
"You're so– you're so sweet" he said, his words dragged and messy. He brought a beer bottle to his lips but you stopped him before any liquid touched them.
"I think that's enough of that for tonight" you grabbed it and placed it behind you, sitting in front of him.
"See now... Now you're being mean" his hand grabbed a strand of your hair and played with it softly as he pouted.
"Okay big boy I'm gonna get you some water" you say, getting up once again, yet his hand stops you, grabbing your wrist tightly.
You looked at him, startled. His drunken state is visible, and it felt frustrating that you had to be the one sobering up for him. The music vibrated through the wall he leaned against, somehow tickling him, making him giggle.
"Stay," he managed to say, eyes half closed, "I'm so glad we're- Fuck things are spinning so much" his hands rushed to his eyes and his head hung low, "Ah fuck. I'm so glad we're datin- Fuck, no, oops-" he continued laughing despite how sick he felt, the whole situation sounding hilarious when filtered through alcohol.
You giggled along with him, mostly because you wanted to see if you could convince him to move, scared he might feel worse or pass out on the cold floor if he doesn't do so. "Fake dating. Fake dating, I know. I knowww" he continued, his words dragged and his finger pointing at you before poking your nose with such innocent sweetness you were taken aback.
"Max" you tried to sound more assertive but found it hard to do so, your own intoxicated state making the situation lighter than what it actually was. Your heart racing was a symptom of it, one you wouldn't feel if sobriety was an option, you thought. Max's eyes wouldn't seem to stare at you differently were he sober as well, and the way he scanned your features, his gaze staying on your lips for longer than expected, wouldn't affect you in the slightest had you not drank some alcohol.
"I like it when you say my name" he looked up at you innocently, pleading, almost.
"Want me to say it again?" you asked, smiling. You complied with these demands because you knew they were childish whims of an intoxicated man, his happiness a priority in times like these. Upon his nod, you started saying his name, half teasingly, half reassuringly, the leaves rustling in the garden behind you.
"Max... Max!! Max Max-"
He shouldn't. It would complicate things, and he liked when they were simple, clean and organized. He knew he shouldn't even when his whole vision spun and his brain convinced him that he should do things he would never do otherwise. But every time he refrained from saying something he would stumble across all his words and trip and fall and his head would only hurt more, and it seemed as if he could only focus if he kept listening to you and talking to you and looking at you.
The lights shone behind you in a way that made it feel as though he was dreaming, like you were a mirage, too good to be true. Maybe his friends were right - you weren't actually real. He wanted to be sure, in that moment. That you were real and that he wanted you as much as he thought. And though he shouldn't, though it was a terrible idea, he couldn't help but lean over to kiss you.
He tasted like champagne - bubbly and slightly sweet, his movements sloppy given his state, yet you couldn't help but drink it all in. Part of you - a big part - reciprocated the kiss, felt his fingers on the side of your neck, pulling you messily towards him, and tried to steady him, guiding him gently with your own lips.
It was odd, how this felt so right yet the fake hand holding didn't. As Max kissed you, that thought entered his clouded mind - did it feel wrong because it was fake and this was real? Your skin felt so soft, so much softer now he could touch it freely and unapologetically.
"Fuck-" he started, pulling away, his head resting against the wall once again as he stared at you, noticing how it hasn't hit you yet; what you just did, how it affected everything. "I fucking love you" he shrugged as you fixed your hair, pausing with arms raised for a few seconds before smiling softly.
"You're drunk" you replied, looking at his own grin, the gleam in his eyes making him appear both innocent and guilty of so many things.
"I'm drunk and I fucking love you"
"Max..." you started, and he said your name back to you with such tenderness you couldn't believe his lips tasted of alcohol earlier and not something sweet.
"We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" you continued, waiting for the silence to swallow you both.
#max verstappen#f1#max verstappen x reader#formula 1#formula one#f1blr#f1 fandom#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen fic#f1 fluff#f1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula one x you#formula one x reader#formula one x y/n#formula 1 x reader
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steel drum weight of me
joel miller x fem!reader, 18+ mdni
summary: joel comes back from his wall shift with hands in need of some serious tlc. but why stop there? | 3.2k
warnings: fem!reader, fluff turned to smut, a tender blowjob, p in v sex, unprotected sex, riding, creampie
a/n: this could be in the same universe as come care about me and watching you with wonder but who knows. what matters is it's a post-part i jackson au and all is well. this is my first fic in a while and i hammered it out today so hopefully it's coherent. <3 series masterlist here.
__
Jackson looks its best in the winter.
You've always thought so with its endless skies gone white, blending in with the grey clouds carrying the constant threat of snow. The peaks you never tire of, such ethereal beauty in a world otherwise gone to shit, looming over town with a steadfastness that you can fool yourself into thinking means protection, means safety. In reality, they're just something nice to look at when you have a free moment.
It's also fucking cold.
But you can deal with that. You've spent more winters in the last twenty years than you'd like to remember mostly outside, freezing your ass off, fingers so numb you could barely pull the trigger. But when it counted, you did.
Winter now means a town full of children laughing and having snowball fights. It means big pots of stew and your pick of hats, scarves, and a good pair of boots. It means a warm house to go back to every night, a bed to crawl into, and a man you love to hold you.
Things could be worse.
You're home first today. Joel and Ellie are on the wall and have been since mid-morning. The light is already going, the sun dipping behind the Tetons, sky that winter mix of purple and pink that makes the breath catch in your throat no matter how many times you see it. There's a flu going around and taking people out for a few days at most but it means fewer bodies free for the wall and for patrol. You're pulling a double tomorrow and you're already looking forward to the hot bath you'll take after.
Today, though, you change from your work clothes to something softer, a sweater that travels between your drawer and Joel's, thick socks Dina gave you for your birthday last year. It's hard to heat houses like yours the way you used to but it works well enough to fight the chill so long as you layer. That's the name of the game these days: adapting.
You set the kettle to boil and forgo thinking about dinner for a few hours. Joel won't drink tea with you but if Ellie stops by she'll have some. Maybe you can convince her to watch the movie you pulled from the library this week. You love him, but Joel just doesn't appreciate comedies.
The front door creaks, the bell you have hanging from the doorknob jingling.
"S'me," Joel calls into the house. "You home?"
"Making tea." The kettle isn't steaming yet so you lean against the counter and wait.
The sounds of his return are familiar even though you can't see him. He locks the door with a click, shrugs his jacket off with a sigh. He sits down on the bench you put in the entryway so he can take his boots off. The thunk of one and then the other. He'll tuck them next to yours under the coat rack. When the weather is bad you try to come in the back door so not as to track snow through the house but you don't want his back to get any worse so a bench in front makes sense.
The kettle screams. You pull it off quick and pour the water into your mug -- a chipped green one with a dinosaur holding a cookie that you find endlessly amusing -- and leave it to steep. The floor creaks under your socked feet as you make your way into the hall. Joel still sits on the bench digging into the meat of one palm with his thumb like he's working the feeling back into them.
He looks up and his jaw softens a little. His cheeks are rosy from the cold and his hair a mess from the wind. "Evenin," he says.
"How was the wall?"
"Fine." He stops messing with his hands and rolls his shoulders back with a grunt. "Ellie swears she saw a moose on her last patrol. Said to tell you. I think she's fuckin' with me. How was your shift?"
"Fine," you echo. "Is she coming for dinner?"
He shakes his head. "Game night at Jesse's."
You cross the remaining distance between you and he parts his legs automatically so you can stand between his knees. You run a hand through his hair, pushing the greying fringe back from his eyes. He looks up at you and finally smiles, just a little. You drag your hand down the side of his face and enjoy the feel of his beard on your skin.
"Maybe she did see a moose." He rolls his eyes and brings a hand up to cover yours. You lean down to kiss him but something catches your eye and you pull back, tugging your hand from beneath his to circle his wrist.
"Jesus, Joel." He makes a surprised sound.
"Hey now, what --"
You pull his other hand from his knee and hold them both close to your face, turning them over in the light of the entryway. "You didn't wear gloves, did you?"
He just shrugs. That means someone else on the wall -- probably Ellie -- forgot theirs and he handed his own over.
The skin of his knuckles is dry and cracked, the rest of his palm dry and cold to the touch. You've seen them bloody, broken and bruised, and compared to that, this is tame. Welcome, almost. But you know he won't do a damn thing about it, let himself bleed rather than take a second to make things better.
And you've never minded this part. Taking care of him, making him slow down and rest for even just a little bit. You both know you'd get your hands dirty or worse for him and he for you, but this is the part he has trouble with. So you take the reigns.
It's part of how you fit together -- part of how you look after each other.
"We've got something for this." Joel looks unamused. You press a light kiss to one of his knuckles and his nostrils flare. "Go sit on the couch," you say.
"I'm fine --"
"Joel, they'll bleed if you don't let me --"
"I said I'm --"
"Hey," you say. He hears the finality of your tone and lets you have it, sighing your name in one long breath.
"Alright," he says. "Move, then."
You press a quick kiss to his lips and release his hands to step back. He stands with his usual grunt and you have to stop yourself from leaning into the width of him, from wrapping your arms around him and slotting your nose in his neck and never letting go.
"It's that salve Dina brought over last week," you tell him. "The new one for the winter. Smells nice. Good for this kind of stuff."
Joel makes his way to the couch and you fetch the tin from the kitchen.
"What's it made of?"
"Uh -- oil? And some flowers, I think? Wax, maybe."
He's settled into the cushions when you return, smirking. "It's okay to say you don't fuckin' know."
You sit next to him and unscrew the top, folding your legs so you're facing him. "Well then, I don't fuckin' know." You're sure to imitate his drawl.
"Cute."
"Gimme those hands, big guy."
The salve smells faintly of lavender and it's cold on your fingertips. Joel extends his right hand and you work it into his skin slowly, extra careful around where it's cracked and split. You feel his eyes on you but you let him look.
"Feels good, huh?" He hums. "If you'd wear your gloves then --"
"What was I gonna do, let her freeze?" So it was Ellie, then. You flick your gaze up and find his brow furrowed. If you have a free hand you'd smooth the crease with your thumb.
"No," you say. "Guess it's a damn good thing you have me here, then."
He chuckles, a throaty, rusty sound. "Guess so."
You finish the first hand and motion for his second. He gives it to you and you dig your thumbs into the meat of his palm. Joel lets you touch him whenever you like, for the most part. Pressing into his side when you walk down the street in town, trailing your lips down his neck until he whines just a little in your bedroom. You've worked knots out of his shoulders and cleaned blood from surface wounds. You can never get enough of him, of his warmth, the expanse of his tanned skin all yours for the taking.
And, boy, he touches you back.
So you take your time. You rub the salve between his fingers, over the ridges of knuckles split so many times you don't even know about. His hands are rough even when they're not dry and cracking, callused from years of hard work. From years of violence and playing guitar, shooting a gun and holding the people he loves. Dotted with scars and nicks, hands that have touched every part of you.
Joel's slightly slimy finger taps your chin. "You okay?" You've been stroking the same bit of his hand for who knows how long.
"Yeah," you say and mean it. You rub your own hands together to soak in some of the salve before putting the lid back on the tin and standing. "Need to let it soak in."
"Feels soaked in already," he grumbles.
"Stay there." He purses his lips. "I mean it, Joel."
"Bossy today," he says. "There's wood that needs choppin'." You ignore him since he's just being annoying. The salve goes back in the kitchen and his voice trails after you. "And I told Tommy I'd --"
You turn on the tap. "You gotta let that soak in," you say again from the sink.
"What? Can't hear over the water."
You turn off the tap and dry your hands. Joel is still on the couch when you return. "Sorry," you say. You run your hand through his hair again and settle back down next to him. "I said be patient."
"Don't think that's what you said."
"It's what I meant."
And he looks at you in that way that always makes your face feel hot. Like he's seeing right to the bone of you, like he's laying you bare on the floor in his mind. Like he never wants to stop looking at you, next to him on the couch, leg pressed to yours. Like he loves you.
"Alright," he says.
You get an idea, the flames licking at your belly and your hands itching to touch him again, to touch him differently than before. That idea has you grabbing a pillow and tossing it to the floor, has you getting up and drawing the curtains before you sink to your knees before him.
Joel only looks mildly surprised, eyebrows raised, mouth tugging up at the corner. "Now, I ain't gonna complain but --"
"Then don't," you say. You tug his shirt from his waistband and start working on his belt. "Gotta pass the time somehow. And I don't know what we're doing for dinner yet, so maybe I'm just stalling."
"Hell of a way to stall." He reaches for you to touch your face, maybe, or help you with his belt, when you click your tongue. "We can just go to the community hall--"
"Don't touch," you remind him. "You have to let it--"
"Soak, Jesus, yeah, yeah." Joel tips his head back along the sofa and takes one deep breath. If he really wanted to he could ignore you and you'd let him get away with it, but if there's one thing you and Joel have solidified, it's trust. He trusts you to take care of him, to handle him with hands that love him.
So you do. He lifts his hips just a little so you can tug his jeans down, zipper undone and button popped. You pull out his cock, already half-hard at the promise of what's to come. You spit into your palm and stroke him once root to tip and he hisses. More blood flows and he stiffens in your hand.
"You just gonna look at it?"
You give him a squeeze for being a shit. He laughs but it sounds punched out, on the edge. Frankly it's an effort not to take him in your mouth right away. You've always loved this -- the exchange of power, the trust. You're the one on your knees but you're calling the shots. And he's mouthwatering. The way his cock curves a little, the vein that runs along the underside. The mushroom head a little pinker than the rest, the wiry hair at his base. The hefty weight of his balls in your hand, on your tongue. You know how to make it good for him and it's good for you, too.
Joel opens his mouth to no doubt say something else annoying so you finally drag your tongue along the vein, swirling a little at the top before taking just the tip of him in your mouth. His precome is salty. You work your hand along the rest of him as you start to suck in earnest, hollowing your cheeks and taking a little more each time.
"Look so pretty, baby," Joel says. His voice is gravely, broken in his throat. You manage to take almost all of him and you swallow, just once. Your reward is your name spilling from his mouth in a groan.
It's messy. Spit beads at the corner of your mouth and drips a little as you work him, breathing through your nose when you take him all the way. So good, takin' all of me, keep goin'.
Joel has clearly forgotten your directive as he winds one hand in your hair and pulls just a little, just enough to make you moan around him. You don't scold him for it, instead keeping your eyes on his face. His head is tipped back just a little, lips parted at he gazes down at you. His other arm is stretched along the length of the couch, his fingers digging into the fabric as you bob on his cock.
You know he's close. You can feel how he's trying hard to keep his hips down, trying not to fuck your throat cause usually he asks first. So it's only a little surprising when he pulls you off him, eyes a little glazed and some color high on his cheeks.
He wipes spit from the corner of your mouth with the pad of his thumb. "Why don't you c'mere?" he says. "Let me fill you up."
"Joel." This was supposed to be about making him feel good. You know even if he comes in your mouth he'll ask you let him touch you, so frankly you don't mind if he fucks you or not.
He smirks, presses his fingers into the side of your neck a little. You swallow so he can feel it. "We both know you can take it," he drawls, eyes dark. "Always gets you goin', my cock in your mouth."
You can feel the heat between your legs, the arousal pooling in your gut. He's right but he's also an asshole. "You're annoying," you tell him.
"So is that a no?"
You drag the flat of your tongue up his shaft one last time as punishment before standing, using his knees as leverage to get off your own. He shucks off his jeans the rest of the way as you drag down your pants, letting them pool with your underwear at your feet before stepping out. Joel holds out a hand for you to balance on and you take it, putting your other on his shoulder.
"Feels softer already," you mutter. Joel snickers and you straddle him. He uses one hand to drag his fingers through your cunt and you fail to swallow a gasp.
"Well, look at that," he says. "I was right." He pushes two fingers into you and they go easily, your hips jerking as he pumps them in and out once, twice, and then you're empty again.
"Smug bastard," you manage. He brings his hand to his mouth and takes a long lick before surging forward to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you even wetter.
Joel licks into your mouth and you kiss him back sloppily, desperately, in the way you know he likes. You're so busy with that hands on his face, his beard scratching your skin deliciously, that you don't notice what else he's doing. His hand presses into the bare skin of your back under your shirt and you lift up a little on instinct and then --
The head of his cock nudges at your entrance and his hand presses again and you meet the movement of his hips with your own and he fills you with just one stroke.
You moan in unison, Joel's arm wrapping around your back as you curl yours around his neck, mouths not so much pressed together as hovering as you pant, as you adjust. Even with how wet you are Joel is a stretch, a welcome one, but a stretch regardless. You shift your hips, roll them back and forth a little.
"Go on, then," you tell him. "Fuck me."
He laughs.
His lips leave yours and trail down your chin, sucking spots onto your neck and on that spot that makes you keen as he does what you ask. He goes slow at first, letting you meet him thrust for thrust. One hand snakes up your shirt, thumbs at your nipple when he finds no bra in the way. You wing your fingers in his hair and tug, tug until he picks up the pace, until all you can hear is the smack of his flesh against yours.
"Joel -- Joel -- right there --"
"M'not gonna -- I -- fuck --"
"Said you were gonna fill me up, didn't you?" you pant, managing to find a bit of cheek in the haze of your fucking. "C'mon, Miller. Don't keep a lady wait--"
His hips pick up the pace, his hands pressing into you hard enough to bruise. You give up trying to tease him and hang on for dear life, managing to snake a hand between your legs to rub at your clit as he pounds into you. The only thing you can say is his name over and over as you feel the hook pull taught, feel the head of his cock brush against and then pound that spot that makes your vision blur.
Joel comes just before you do, his thrusts stuttering and his name on your lips. You feel it, the heat inside you and it's enough to send you over the edge, your cunt squeezing him as he empties inside you.
You press your forehead to his and catch your breath. He palms your neck, your jaw, slides his thumb lazily under your eye and kisses the corner of your mouth.
"Hell of a salve," he manages.
You slot your lips over his. "Wear your damn gloves." Joel laughs and it shifts him inside you. Even softening it makes you both hiss a little. "Just gimme a second."
His hand drags up and down your back, pressing into your spine. "Take your time," he says. "M'clearly not goin' anywhere."
"You never stop, do you?"
Joel kisses you again. "'fraid not."
You laugh into his neck. "Good."
thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!
#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller fanfiction
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A Night To Forget (Leah Williamson x reader)
A/N: What a shit show that game was. What were they doing? They do know it was a must win in the title race right?
The tackle in this fic was based off this video.
Leah knew that she played a big part in Arsenal’s shocking performance. Never did she think she would let her frustrations take over in the way that they did.
You were having a near perfect game with scoring the opener and assisting the other two goals. Arsenal were playing into your hands and they were making it easy for you to dance around the pitch.
It was near the end of the game when the away team was beginning to get sloppy with their tackles.
Erin had played you a lovely through ball and you were off. You saw Leah running at you but even she knew she wouldn’t be able to match your pace if you got free. It’s what lead her to doing what she did.
As she stuck her foot in she missed the ball completely and her studs connected with the inside of your knee. You were on the floor in agony within seconds.
“What was that!” Erin shoves Leah backwards, far away from you.
“I didn’t—it was an accident”
“Bullshit” the Scottish woman was furious.
Meanwhile you laid on the floor clutching your knee. You didn’t hear a pop but you can’t lie and say the three letters weren’t floating around in your head.
“Speak to us Y/N” one of the physios told you.
“ACL?” It was a question that you dreaded the answer to.
Leah heard you say the three letters and she thought that meant that was the diagnosis and it made her feel sick. The referee had given her the red card but she refused to leave the pitch, not until you had.
“I didn’t mean to Lia” your girlfriend tried to get closer to you but this time it was her team mate who pulled her back.
“Give her space” Wally hated to admit it but the tackle was bad and she wasn’t sure what your reaction would be to seeing the blonde.
The physios removed your hand from your knee so they could access the injury. When you saw your hand it was covered in blood. Clearly the studs have cut you and from the amount of blood it must have been bad.
“We don’t think it’s your ACL. We need to stitch you up so you obviously can’t continue”
“I’m not getting on a stretcher, no way”
The two physios look at each other, shake their heads and laugh a little. They knew full well that you wouldn’t get on a stretcher if you could walk.
“We know but you will let us help you” you nod your head. Guro, who remained by your side, helped you up and took the place of one of the physios.
You see Leah and it’s enough to make your blood boil.
“Y/N. I didn’t—“
“Stay away from me Williamson” it was as impersonal as it could be and you meant every word. Leah was the last person you want to see right now.
“Please I—“
Again she was cut off but this time by the Norwegian.
“No! You heard her. Stay away”
Leah stopped in her tracks. You never let anyone talk to her like that. That is until this moment.
Millie was waiting for you at the sidelines and the look she gave Leah was one of disappointment. Never in her mind would your girlfriend do anything like this to you. She was your biggest protector but tonight it was her you needed protecting from.
The full time whistle is blown and the member of staff that had been sat with Leah tells her she can go back out. She lingers at the door to the Chelsea locker room where she he hears you laughing with Sam, Millie and Guro who must have been subbed off. She is in two minds whether or not to knock. She knew she wanted to see you but did you want to see her? If your previous reaction was any indication then the answer was no.
Leah was doing her lap and was just near the end of the away stand when she heard the stadium break out into cheers. When she looked around to see what was the cause was, she saw you. She saw you walking near the home bench wearing a black compression sleeve and a matching knee brace. Millie was carrying a pair of crutches but laid them on the bench.
You were injured. Leah didn’t know what the damage was but she knew that you were hurt. She also knew by the looks on your friends’ face that she wouldn’t get close to you right now.
It was a hard thing to process for you. You tried to masque your hurt with a grin but it wasn’t very believable. You wanted to celebrate with your team, this win was huge, but your mind was elsewhere.
“She didn’t mean to” Sam, of all people, came to Leah’s defence.
“And that means I can’t be mad? You saw the replays, she could have ended by career with that tackle” you didn’t know what to feel, you didn’t know how you should feel.
“But she didn’t”
“Why are you defending her!” You covered your mouth in case a microphone and camera on you.
“Because no one else will and you know it” Sam really was trying to do the right thing but maybe it was wrong of her.
“Well then she shouldn’t have done it” your response was scarily calm.
The girls in red stayed clear of you and rightly so. It was only Alessia that was brave enough to come to you.
“You’re very annoying to play against. Good game tonight, you deserved to win this one” her genuine words earned her a smile.
“Thanks Less” you pulled her in for a quick hug as you walked down the tunnel together.
“Is it bad?” She wasn’t sure if she wanted the answer “Leah was asking about you”
“Well you can tell Leah that I don’t know the severity of the injury she caused”
“But it’s not, you know….” the forward daren’t speak the words that had now rivalled the Macbeth superstition.
“No. I needed stitches and the brace is because the two cuts are on the joint. It’s so I don’t reopen them”
Leah looked up at the sound of Alessia entering the locker room. She saw you through the gap, immediately stood up and started walking towards you.
“Y/N” she begs you to look at her.
“Thanks for checking in Less. I’ll see you at home” you didn’t address Leah but you did look at her. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing though because there was a numbness in your gaze.
She waited and waited in your shared apartment. Hours passed and she was close to giving up, she thought that you must have changed your mind. Could she have blamed you if you had?
Leah blew out the candle, your favourite one, and turned off the lamp. Just as she got into bed she heard the front door open and close. She was on her feet in a flash and running towards you.
“Y/N. I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry”
“What were you thinking? It was sloppy, dangerous and unnecessary”
“I needed to stop you. I hadn’t been able to stop you all game”
That was her defence and you found it pathetic.
“You played terribly Leah. I won’t stand here and sugarcoat things. You made mistakes but this wasn’t one of them. You knew exactly what you were doing when you came flying in”
“I didn’t. I swear I didn’t. I—” Leah pauses for a moment. She didn’t mean to hurt you but she also couldn’t know for sure if her subconscious wanted to stop you by any means.
“You didn’t mean to hurt me but you knew the tackle was reckless and it could end badly yet you did it anyway”
When you put it that way Leah found herself agreeing with you.
“I love you Leah but I have every right to be mad at you. You can’t dismiss my feelings“
That wasn’t Leah’s intention but she knew that was what she was doing.
“I’m not. I mean I won’t. Do you want space from me? I can sleep on the sofa or even go to one of the girls’ houses” Leah was ready to give you your space if that is what you wanted.
“No, I don’t want that. I just want to be mad for a little bit but I can do that with you in bed beside me”
Leah found herself smiling. She was in trouble, big trouble, but you were going to forgive her.
“Don’t be surprised if I punch you in my sleep. Dream me might want revenge. Now carry me to bed. I don’t know how you put up with this thing. It’s so annoying”
Just when Leah began to forget about what happened, you remind her. To be fair the black brace was very bulky and hard to ignore.
“How bad is it Y/N? Tell me the truth, please” Leah carried you bridal style whilst waiting for the verdict.
“8 stitches and I have to wear the brace while they heal” you told her everything that you knew.
Leah laid you down gently on the bed and her fingers lingered on the velcro of the brace. You knew what she was asking without her having to open her mouth. You lean forward and undo the straps. Gently you pull the compression sleeve down, revealing the ugliness of the injury.
Your girlfriend gasps and takes a step back. She hurt you, she hurt you really bad. When you first started dating she made a promise to never be the reason for your pain, only for your happiness. She broke that promise tonight at Stamford bridge.
“I have a hospital appointment for scans tomorrow morning. They don’t think there’s any serious damage”
“I’ll take you” Leah tells you.
“Damn right you will Williamson. I am clearly in no shape to drive”
“Please don’t call me that” you could have sworn you saw Leah shrink in size “Call me Leah if you have to, but not Williamson”
Here’s the thing. Leah loved nicknames and you called her plenty of them. Each had a different meaning and you used them in different scenarios. It’s why this struck her so deeply.
“Leah” you wait until she is looking at you “come to bed”
The blonde does as told but she does it goes so gingerly. You were fragile in her eyes and no way was she going to hurt you more.
That night the two of the slept poorly. That is until you pull Leah into your arms. You tried your best to forget about the incident because you knew Leah blamed herself for the loss. In this specific moment she simply needed to be held by her girlfriend.
#woso x reader#woso one shot#woso imagine#Leah Williamson x reader#Leah Williamson one shot#Leah Williamson imagine#awfc x reader#awfc one shot#awfc imagine#engwnt x reader#engwnt one shot#engwnt imagine
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Give it to me Straight
Pairing: Minho x afab!reader
Genre: Best friend's forbidden older brother
Word Count: 9.1 k (yeah we got carried away once again)
Warnings: Based off of inspo (here) and (here) that is also literally porn so dont click if u dont want to see you have been warned.
Also contains: smut, worshipping, angst, mentions of alcohol and intoxication, fingering (f receiving), kissing, penetration, lots and lots of praise, semi soft smut
Notes: HEY!! this is a fic i wrote hald of last year and just forgot about it and found and decided to finish it, hope oyu enjoy !!
Summary: You had enough of your best friend brother, Minho, giving you mixed signals as you grew up, but this. This was the night that you were finally going to do something about it
The night was pretty much over, or well, it should have been. But here you were, sitting on the floor of a random person’s apartment, giggling over and over as you looked at the other 8 people also sitting down in a circle next to you. There were your friends, Sana and Hyunjin, and there were the others. Actually, quite frankly, you did not know these people until tonight. There was one person that was there, that you did know, all too well.
Minho, Lee Minho. Friend, foe? You weren’t sure what to call him, but all you knew was that you were grinding on him in the club an hour ago, hands roaming across your body, lips, teeth on your neck. It was fun, one shot after another had your mind racing, thinking about the possibilities of what could happen after you went home, with him. What wasn’t helpful was the guilt that came with such excitement.
“Fuck okay,” the stranger yelled, clapping his hands before swinging them, taking the empty vodka bottle off the kitchen bench, “let’s play a good ole fashion game of spin the bottle. Who’s in?”
“Me me me!”
The small crowd cheered in unison, but all you could do was stare at him. More guilt, more excitement, more adrenaline. The thought of kissing him did nothing but intensify the want, the need, the desire to. Wanting to hook up with your best friend’s older brother was the worst thing that you could want at this very moment.
The relationship with Minho was always strange and never straightforward. Even from the first time the two of you met. Your best friend of almost 10 years since you had been in elementary school, he was just different towards you. When you were younger, all he did was pick on you. The short scrawny boy, only a couple of years older than you. Would always chase you around the school yard, always until you fell over, or hurt yourself in some kind of way. You hated him, and had no idea why he always picked on you specifically.
It changed in middle school, however, after puberty, well, more for him. His face changed, grew taller, much more attractive in your 14 year old eyes. You denied it though, remembering how cruel he was to you. Not much changed personality wise, he was still mean. Picking on you, your grades, his sister, her grades. He was ruthless, and it made you hate him even more. Minho’s looks were easy to overlook when everything that came out of his mouth was rubbish.
It wasn’t until he left for college, and came back for summer after finishing his first year, did things change. He had grown even taller, started working out, and had joined his college’s dance team. Holy fuck did things became different. His smile beamed as soon as he walked in and you in his house, sitting at the kitchen bench.
***
“Y/n?”
You turned around, jaw dropping the moment you laid your eyes on him. He dropped everything, fast walking towards you as he picked you up, spinning you around with a large chuckle erupting from his chest. He put you down, eyes doing a quick check up and down your body before biting down on his bottom lip.
“Minho?”
“Wow, you look, really, really good.”
His stance was close, almost lingering over you, that was, until your best friend walked in, causing him to step away, rubbing the back of his neck as he walked to the fridge so nonchalantly. Your friend gave you a weird look, mouthing a ‘sorry,’ solely for his presence in the room. They never were that close.
“I forgot to tell you that he got back a few days ago and is going to be here for the summer.”
“That’s okay,” you scoffed, overexaggerated manner, “why would you need to tell me that.”
“Because I know how he can be,” she whispered, “rude, mean, very obnoxious and super, super arrogant.”
The second half of her sentence was louder, looking straight at him to make sure she knew. You just laughed, nervously, unsure how to take in the interaction.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” she sighed, “please don’t bully my only friend while I’m gone.”
The man rolled his eyes, laughing as he took a large gulp from his water bottle. He walked forward, waiting for her to leave before reassessing his position. His hands leaned against the bench, body pushing forward as he leaned towards you, a smirk appearing on his lips as he looked down at you.
“I have to go, meeting a friend at the gym, but it was really, really good to see you. We should hang out sometimes if you’re free, you know, without her?”
“We should?”
“Yes,” he smirked, biting down on his bottom lip, “definitely.”
***
“Okay,” the stranger announced to himself, “I’ll go first.”
The game felt like torture. Simply watching the bottle, casting your eyes on what seemed to be an infinite amount of times, spinning on an axis. It didn’t help you at all. If anything, it intensified how dizzy you truly were feeling. Concentration was getting harder, but you refused. Refused to give up anything. You did not want to prove Minho’s point. That you would always be this little girl that is easy to pick on.
“Oh my god,” Hyunjin nudged you, “Y/n, psst, the bottle is on you.”
His knock cloaked you out of your drunken daze, bringing some sobriety back as he pointed towards the bottle, eyes opening when you saw it land on you. You looked up, seeing the stranger was already there. He was attractive, short black hair, hazel eyes, freckles. He was really cute, and your brain melted the longer he gazed at you.
“Hey.”
“Hi,” you whispered, hand in front of your mouth as you giggled at his proximity. You didn’t have to look. The feeling of a pair of eyes burning into the side of your head was more than enough to know who had their eyes on you, and who didn’t. Chan did not, already ditching the game and sloppily making out with the person next to him. Hyunjin followed in pursuit, and Jisung and Sana, well, that was another story, a long time coming. The glance was brief, not long enough to focus on anybody, but well enough to know your surroundings. Enough to see the girl, who looked very familiar, but not enough to be identified by name, whisk her fingers across his inner thigh. He stayed still, not paying any mind to her as he fixated on you. The man joined in the staring contest, noticing Minho’s obviously unimpressed glare.
He swung his head back in your direction, pushing his body weight on you in the slightest. You followed, back now adjacent to the floor as he leaned over, lips hovering over your own. You brought your index finger to his lips, curious to know more about the man before he kissed you.
“Wait.”
“Is something wrong?” His facial expression changed, unsure as to why or what made you hesitate.
“Oh, no,” you giggled, full of giddyness and intoxication, “your name. I just wanted to know your name before we, well, you know.”
The man smirked, cupping your face in adoration as he leaned closer, lips wisping across your ear as he spoke.
“Well aren’t you just the cutest?”
He pulled away, eyes back in level with your own as he spoke once more, “Felix. I’m Felix.”
That was all you needed, wrapping your arms around Felix’s neck as you pulled him in, eyes closing and mouth opening and lips attacking yours. The kiss in reality, from an outside perspective, would have looked very messy. Very sloppy as lips missed each other, teeth crashed together, and also the fact that you could feel Felix’s hips moving against your own in the slightest, already half hard member grinding against your thigh. It did feel good, you couldn’t fib to yourself. The gentle friction was delicious. It was enough to make you moan discreetly, the sound lost in Felix’s mouth as the two of you continued.
You were enjoying yourself, but you also remembered not to lose yourself in the moment. Felix was fun, but he was just part of the plan. A simple pawn in a game of chess, of course being the queen and Minho the king. Sometimes you have to make some unnecessary moves to win in the long term. Even with your eyes closed, you could still feel his own burning into the back of your head. If sober, you most likely would have been feeling some kind of guilt. It wasn’t like you to rub things in other people’s faces. But you felt like it was only fitting. Yes, you wanted Minho, but after everything, your timeline with him, having a crush on him for the longest time regardless that he made your life hard, it only felt right to drag this out as much as possible.
Your eyes fluttered open, empty lidded shooting daggers at him. Appraisal came to your mind when his daggers were returned, gaze still very much fixated on you, with Felix, making out with another man right in front of him. His blood was searing, reaching boiling point at a very rapid rate. He knew you were a lot of things. Sarcastic, blunt, ‘indifferent’ towards him as you got older, or so he thought. But he didn’t take you to be a tease. He was reaching the point of no return, and if you didn’t stop this act, this play scene just for him, he was going to do something he regretted.
“Hmm fuck,” Felix grumbled, pulling away from you, “has anyone ever told you that you’re a really good kisser?”
Your eyes flickered back to the man on top of you, quickly averting your gaze to avoid any deflections from Minho, Chan, or any of the others there that you knew.
“Hey man, what are you doing?”
You sat up immediately, looking up to see Minho’s friend, Jisung, standing over you. His tone was playful, but the adrenaline was kicking in. The several times you met Minho’s friends, they were decent enough to be nice to your face. Anytime you went over, you could hear them. Talking about how you look, always asking Minho about you. Just them teasing him about you. Maybe it was the reason as to why he had so much disdain for you. They were also protective, very protective of him, and probably the reason why they were standing over you right now.
“Oh hey man, you’re not her boyfriend are you?”
“Who, me?” Jisung laughed, hard, almost hysterically, bringing a hand to his chest to calm himself down, “no no, not me, but the guy over there might be a little mad that you’re making out with his girl.”
You rolled your eyes, grabbing onto Felix’s arm, other hand tucking under his chin as you pressed another haste kiss to his lips. You gave Minho one more look, noticing his fists turned inwards, hard shaped as he watched your interactions with the new guy accelerating.
“Good,” He smirked, standing up, and reaching a hand out to you as an invitation, “Did you want to hang out in my room? It’s just down the hall.”
“Sure,” you replied bluntly as you took his invitation. You allowed Felix to guide you, taking one last look at Jisung. Before making your way, you were interrupted one more time. It made you scoff when Minho grabbed your wrist, finally able to do something himself, not his friends doing it for him.
“Y/n?”
“What do you want?”
“Where are you going?”
“What do you think?”
With a heavy grip, attempting to shake yourself out of his grip. There was no way you were giving up on this act yet.
“You just met the guy tonight?”
“Okay and? It’s not like that ever stopped you before. At least I’m not at home, forcing everyone else to hear you late at night.”
He looked down, knowing he had been beaten to the punch. You resisted once more, able to come out of his grip as you looked up and down at him once more, “Stop acting like you give a shit what I do.”
You watched him open his mouth, but missed out on whatever he was going to say. You laughed to yourself, the swift motion of the man from the other side, Felix, the one who was giving you the attention you needed right now. Without a word, he closed the door behind you, spare hand placed on your lower back as he lead you to what seemed to be his bed.You sat down first, Felix making quick work as he stood over you once more, index finger stuck on your shoulder as he effortlessly as he ‘pushed’ you over, torso hovering on top of yours, just like he did previously. You had to give it to him. This Felix guy was smooth. The way he looked down at you, raking your body with every single eye nerve, the gentle twitch when he noticed extra skin showing on your body for a slight moment. He definitely was contributing to your uprising arousal, but the thing that really turned you on was the mere possibility of Minho hearing this. Having his ear up to the door, curious to see what you would really do.
“Hey,” Felix whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, taking you out of your thoughts completely, “everything okay?”
“What? Oh, yeah, where were we?”
You brought a hand to his arm, rubbing up and down in a soothing motion as his own came back to your chin, pinching it forward, lips doting to reconnect with his. His lips were smooth, not a crack or dry spot in sight or in feeling. The kiss was a lot more connected, a lot more teamwork and passion. His tongue lazily slipped inside of your mouth, picking up with much brute and force as his hips charged, recreating the prior friction against your core. Felix had one hand on the side of your jaw, the one on your chin snaking around and cascading down, in between your cleavage, past your navel, brimming on the edge of your undergarment line. You gasped, immediately, not expecting things to move so quickly. A stifled whimper escaped your lips, enjoying the friction his fingers created around the sensitive bundle of nerves.
“Oh,” you groaned, slightly high pitched and confused at first, but once his fingers dived past your dress, underneath your core, right in the center of your sweet spot, you groaned again, a deeper, more gratifying noise bellowing in response.
“Does that feel good?”
“Mhm,” you whispered, looking up at him, “feels so good already.”
Your hand felt dizzy again, a lightheaded texture adding. You weren’t sure if it was his fingers or the alcohol speaking, but it most likely was the loud bang that came from the east part of the room. You jumped immediately, bumping heads with Felix as you quickly covered yourself, given no time to fix your hair as you were being dragged out, Minho’s jaw clenched as he walked you out.
“Sorry, uh Felix, it was nice to meet you,” you yelled down the hallway, pushed all the way to the front door.
“Minho what the fuck?”
“Shut up and get in the car,” he growled, not putting up with any nonsense that you were about to spew at him, “Jisung’s taking us all home, your friends included.”
“Ugh, whatever,” you scoffed, the digging of his fingers becoming slightly painful. You opened the door, seeing Hyunjin’s smirk as soon as he saw you, hand in hand with Minho. He never had to say anything, he always knew how you felt about him, even when it wasn’t clear to you.
The midnight breeze was very apparent, hitting you like a truck. The goosebumps on your skin raised in an instant, shiver running down your spine as you walked. Minho let go of your wrist, removing his jump over his head, and plopping it on top of yours. You wanted to turn, scream at him for ruining your hair, not even thinking about your makeup. But honestly, you were just tired. It was late.
***
You pushed the button down in the backseat, letting the cool breeze smack you across the face as Jisung drove down the highway. It felt nice, distracting you from the imminent pressing of your best friend’s brother inconveniently pressing up against you, too big for the middle seat. Of course he had to sit next to you. Invade your personal space, your privacy. He was still overprotective of you, even when you were by yourselves. It was annoying, and you really didn’t know why he was always like this with you after the needless torture that was gorwing up with him around.
You decided to put the window up, a sudden drowsiness coming over you as you leaned your head against the window. Your eyes were fluttering, half lidded when you felt someone whispering, right up to your ear. His lips were cold, roughly but incidentally lingering on your lobe.
“Y/n,” Minho hushed, patting your arm lightly, “y/n, baby.”
“Mhm,” you mumbled, furrowing your eyebrows, “what is it?”
“We’re here, wake up.”
“Oh,” you sighed, releasing your weight on the window. Your eyes opened, turning from the window, which was a big mistake. You caught yourself, inches away from your face. Apart from the club, it was the closest you had been ever to him. You saw him, looking down at your lips, causing you to gulp loudly. You wanted to lean in, push away all the doubt you had in your mind, and follow your heart. To have him on your lips, around your body, caressing every crevice, every curve. It was something you had fantasized about in your head several times, whether you wanted to or not. Your hand flew to his chest, truly speechless and unsure what to say.
“Minho. I-”
He licked his lips, fingers latching onto your jaw, thumb against the subtlety of your lips. He flipped, lip bouncing back as he leaned even closer. His breath had never felt so imminent, not even the first time the two of you had shared a kiss.
***
“Did you need help?”
Your heart almost jumped out of your chest, about to lose balance on the stool. The tea bags were high in the cupboard, and you weren’t the tallest person going around. Minho put his arms out, helping you adjust yourself before stepping down and back onto the ground.
“Yeah,” you chuckled, “you know me, never able to reach anything.”
“It’s okay, they’re stored pretty high up.”
Without giving you time to move, he reached over, torso pressed against your chest, half of his body weight leaning on you as he reached up to grab one for you. Your face rose in heat as he placed it on the bench behind you, keeping firm in his position.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, still not moving, “I probably shouldn’t have done that.”
“Oh, uhm no, it’s okay” you mumbled back, pushing the hair behind your ear. He beat you to the other side, lifting his fingers, watching how delicately the fibers of your hair curved along your ear lobe.
Faces inching closer, it felt like do or die, but you would rather get hit by a truck than make the first move. Minho was the type to flirt, hard. He knew he could get anyone he wanted. College really changed him. For the better though, even if it meant he became a mass fuckboy.
“You have a really, uhm, beautiful face.”
He had become nervous all of a sudden, and you couldn’t help but smile. Smile at both his nerves and slight awkwardness, as well as his proximity.
“Uhm thanks,” you mumbled again, scared that if you attempted to speak at a normal volume, it would squeak, “you have a nice face as well.”
“Shut up,” he mumbled, piercing eyes boring into yours.
“Make me.”
He hesitated for a brief moment, before bringing both hands to your face, pressing his lips to yours. It was soft at first, a series of gentle pecks you wrapped your hand palms around his neck, keeping him close. His body felt good, right when close to you.
It didn’t take long for things to heat up however, Minho’s tongue begging for access as you gave it to him willfully, a gentle hum as he simultaneously rolled his hips into yours once. A soft groan escaped your lips, causing him to pull away. The smirk on his face was priceless; you knew he was satisfied with himself. His hands snaked down to your waist, lifting you up and placing you on the kitchen bench. Minho nudged your leg with his left knee, spreading them wide, allowing himself to fit into the curve. He kept his digits across your fingertips, gently tapping as he leaned back in, skipping the innocent kisses and heading straight to a heavy, heavy makeout. The noises erupting were increasing in quantity, and it wasn’t until you heard footsteps running down the steps were you snapped back into reality. Hands on his chest, you pushed him off quickly, pushing your hair back in front of your face.
“Y/n what’s taking you so long?”
“Oh uhm, I was just trying to reach the teabags.”
“Yeah,” Minho joined in, helping you cover your ass, “I just grabbed it for her, seeing as she was already in my way to get to the glasses, annoying ass.”
“Okay whatever weirdo,” she replied to him, “stop annoying Y/n.”
***
The memory of the flashback playing in spurts, ones that your intoxicated mind was probably failing to accurately recall the event. It was, however, enough for you to pull away. Saying nothing, you turned away, opening the car door, semi-stumbling onto the ground as you jumped out the car, heading towards his front door. Luckily your best friend was out of town, away on a camping weekend with her boyfriend and her parents, because if she heard you walking in with Minho, it was game over.
“Y/n,” he whispered, tone harsh like he wanted to yell, “y/n.”
It was nothing but a faint noise in the distance. You stood there, in front of the door, impatiently waiting for it to be unlocked. It wasn’t until you could feel him. He grabbed your wrist, almost having to yank you back to stop you.
“What,” you whispered back, similar in tone, “what do you want?”
He waited. It looked like he was trying to put a thought together, knowing that he needed to say something very important. It could make or break: everything. He took a step closer, that familiar feeling of adrenaline, no, some other feeling that you couldn’t describe. Made your heart race, body sweat. You couldn’t put your finger on what it was. All you knew was that it only happened when he was around you.
“I’m, I’m sorry.”
You looked up at him, adoration at how gentle his skin glowed in the moonlight. Fuck, this was annoying. Why did he have to be so hot? It would have been the easy way out to forgive him and let him do what you craved, yearned for. But it was simply too much to do so. This man had been toying with your heart for a long time. Whether he had a crush on you for the lingering amount of time that you had, you deserved better than someone who played with you for their own amusement.
“What are you sorry for?”
Your tone was calm, yet still firmly questioning him. It was easier to just deny the night events than argue about it.
***
The music was loud, deafening as Minho, dragging you by the delicacy of your poor wrist, locked in a spot right next to the speaker right beside the DJ of the club, aka pole position. At first the dancing was innocent, a bright smile of pure joy (and intoxication) plastered across your face, holding each other’s hands as you pushed and pulled them back and forth. It wasn’t until the motions of arms were not moving in the opposite directions, somehow were both pulling in his direction, right up against his waist. The music was much too loud to allow your rational cognitions to process the sequence of events. Facing him, not facing him. Appropriate distance, very much appreciate distance. It was hard to explain how you ended up with your back pressed against Minho’s chest, somehow in the monstrosity of alcoholic beverages and shots actually moving your hips in a synchronized way with his. Maybe it was the firm grip, thumb digging into the soft flesh that was hardly hidden under that dress, making sure that this was the only place you needed to be, that he wanted you to be.
Your hands easily followed too, palms on top of this tendon illuminating the side of his hands as his lips rested on the outside of the cartilage that made up your ear. The second time you could feel the magic that was his lips. The crowd that was Minho’s friends and the new, yet very much fun strangers that would end up making the later house party were long gone at this very moment. The only thing you could remember was coming with Minho, and the last thing you wanted to do was leave with him.
“Mmmm,” was all that could be heard, well no, felt from the man behind you. The vibrations of his lips were the only indicator that he was trying to say something. His teeth soon followed. Gentle, almost kitten-like nibbles nipped at the heated flesh of the neck and shoulder, head falling limp against his own shoulder as he continued to chuckle inbetween. There seemed to be an innocence to his antics, almost like he didn’t want to hurt you. Yet knowing the downright filthy desires, things he wanted to do, for a numerous amount of time was very much ironic.
Turning around, you pulled away, eyes boring into yours and his face came closer and closer. Eyes fluttering shut like a butterfly's wings for a brief moment, desire had never been stronger.
“There he is, Jisung!”
And just like that, it was over. Reality came back and your Minho clouded fog dissipated in a matter of moments, and it must have for him. You had never seen someone take their hands of someone with such speed. The timely reaction of Minho brought you back to a realistic part of your life. The one where this was nothing but a dream, and Minho was once again out of reach, and the many barriers that were his friends, your friend being in the way, made you nothing but a pawn in his chess game.
***
You stood there in silence, the only sound that could be heard was the ringing in your ears from the loud music prior. The want for him to explain himself was one of such desperation. A sign, anything at this point. Yes, you were very much exhausted from the games but if it was all worth it for him to finally do something about it in the end, the fatigue would be easily wiped away.
“I don’t mean to be this way. So, uhm, aggressive? Or the opposite, I don’t know I-”
“Minho in the nicest way possible, I’m tired and we’ve both had a big night. We can talk about it in the morning.”
Using the spare key that your friend had so graciously given you as a symbol of how much time you truly spent at her house, his house, over the years, the door was unlocked, you ripping your shoes off and letting them laz sprawl against the living room carpet as your body heavily dragged up the stairs. Your feet automatically knew the way to her room, 4 paces straight and two to the left. To get to his it was 7 paces straight 2 to the right. The 4th step on the second floor felt unnatural at this moment, body wanting nothing more than to be pressed up against him in a deep slumber, you craved it; but you knew better at the same time.
“Y/n.”
Silence. You could feel him coming closer, but it’s honestly just too painful at this point to even wait for anything more.
“Y/n.”
Silence, again. It wasn’t until you could feel the unintentionally harsh pull at your wrist, once again pulling back and up against him.
“Y/n wait.”
“For fucks sake Minho,” you huffed, yanking your arm away from his grip, “leave me alone.”
“No, I want to talk about it now.”
Nothing but an eye roll followed, ignoring him and storming into her room. He followed in pursuit, the first time any kind of behavior like this from Minho had happened before. Sitting on the edge of the side of her bed, you turned away as you took off your jewelry, precious earring and delicate chain necklace lying on this decorative plate placed on the bedside table.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Can we please stop pretending like there isn’t something going on between us?”
He was not serious. His bold statement made you stop, turn around and face him.
“You have to be joking right now.”
“Why would I be joking?”
“Minho” you yelled, standing back up and right in front of him, “this is nothing but a fucking game to you! We don't have a problem, YOU do.”
“I don’t play games with you,” Minho scoffed, eyes wide in his own disbelief, “you play games with me.” His voice was also beginning to rise in volume.
“That’s such a fucking lie! You’ve been playing games with me for years. Three quarters of my life! I know that you hated me or couldn’t stand me for most of that but then all of a sudden you come back from college and you want to be around me and all over me?”
“That’s not true-”
“Yes it is! You couldn’t stand me!! Then the kiss in the kitchen? Tonight, you were all over me and I could tell, drunk or sober, that you were enjoying yourself. Until your friends come along and I’m nothing but a secret little game-”
“No Y/n, shut up, that's not true!”
“Explain yourself then!”
Both of your chests were heaving simultaneously, the heated exchange taking the breath out of the two of you. There was no part of you that was wrong, and you knew better than to lack confidence, especially to someone who has kicked you around for what felt like your whole life.
“I never hated you,” he whispered, once again shifting the tense atmosphere in the room. He took a step closer, that goddamn palm resting on your cheek, fingertips pushing the baby hairs sticking to your forehead as you took him in, listening deeply to his words, “I could never hate somebody like you, Y/n.”
His tonality had become the softest you had ever heard someone speak. It was empowering to keep him on his toes, gaze fixated on him, but lips refusing to move. You could see it. The dip in his own gaze below your eye line, past the tip of your nose, and right to where you wanted his lips to be: your lips. The right thing, like your previous thoughts, was to pull away, save yourself the heartbreak.
“Let me take the time to show you how false that statement really is.”
But god, was it it easier to just give him. His approach was gentle, but the texture of his lips felt like the key to everything. The light weight of his lips were equivalent to a tuft of feathers falling from a clear sky. Your lips tussled in return, wanting to kiss the man you were in love with so much passion, yet so much reservation. His lips, unlike the first time, had so much admiration for you, somehow the feeling was communicated in the way his lips touched yours, the way his tongue slipped into your mouth, colliding with your own. The world stopped spinning, and the only thing that mattered was Minho’s lingering touch.
His hands scrambled to find an appropriate spot. His palms spread across your waist, the pressure of his weight pushing you to the edge of the bed, a small shriek escaping your lips as the sudden knock of balance leaves you lying against the material of the bed. His hands left your sides, one coming to your face as he broke away, taking a moment to admire you underneath him in all your beauty. He lifted his fingers to your forehead, brushing the baby hairs on your skin before smiling and leaning back in for another kiss. Hands around his neck, you brought him closer, gasping into his mouth when you felt the roughness of his knee conveniently sitting between your inner thigh, spreading to make room for his own.
You decided to take the liberty of breaking the kiss back this time, Minho rising on his own as he pulled his shirt off in one swift motion. Even the way he moved his limbs was majestic. Eyes widening for a brief moment as the shock of Minho’s body that you had seen many times, especially post-college transformation, it still amazed you how attractive this man was. The proximity all these years amounting to this moment. All the teasing, ignoring, negative behavior came as the collateral of coming to this moment; and you would tolerate all of it again if this what it would lead to. Which is why you refused to rush things, savor the moment as much as you could.
“Minho, wait.”
“Yes?”
“Can we just,” you were hesitant to ask for what felt like a silly request, “I don’t want to rush anything. Can we just make out a little longer?”
His chuckle was one of the most adored. He nodded as he got up from the bed, sitting back down at the edge of the right side. As he turned to put his leg atop of the bed, he leant on his left elbow, patting the empty spot next to him, a very adorable invitation that you simply could not resist. You shooed over, facing Minho as he pinched your chin, bringing your lips to his again. The kisses, for the moment, stayed soft, sweet. He was allowing you to take your time because he was ready. Minho wanted you so bad, but he knew better than to rush. If anything, the anticipation made him fall for you more.
However, the heat was unconsciously beginning to turn up once bodies became involved. The subtle grind of his hips against yours was sending you into a frenzy, and the friction was something you needed to chase. At first you were holding back, only wanting the generosity of his tongue and lips, but now the selfish part of you was taking over, and there was nothing more that you wanted than to have sweet passionate sex with the man in front of you. Gently pushing his chest away, he looked up, confused as you turned away from him, standing up and undoing the zip on the back of your dress.
“Oh,” was all he could say, a smirk plastered on his face as he dragged your body back toward him, now covered in undergarments, back to the bed. His hands became a lot more adventurous, taking the signal of you undressing yourself as an acceleration of what you wanted. Still facing each other, Minho placed a gentle peck to your lips as his arms wrapped around your waist, bringing you much closer to him, and exactly where you wanted to be.
Once the lack of space was established, Minho brought the tip of his digits just above your panty line. A small gasp elicited from your lips once his fingers dipped down to your clothing covering your core. Just above the center of the folds. Minho’s lips quiver at your body relaxing underneath his touch. The more vulnerable you became, the more in love he fell with you. Each second. Your eyes fluttering almost shut, hips gently bucking underneath the pressure of his fingers had his mind screaming with adoration. His gaze was making you shy, causing you to bury your head in his naked chest. You giggled with innocence at how good his fingers felt. The other times you reminisced, romanticized what this would be like was tenfold of what you actually expected.
“You’re so beautiful” he whispered, a soft kiss to the tip of your forehead. Your head came out of his chest, a somewhat fucked out expression already coatign your face as his fingers traveled back to the top of your panties, fingers grasping the hem before asking, “Can I take this off?”
You nodded, this time without hesitance as you turned to your front, assisting Minho in letting the thin fabric subtracted from your body. Your bra soon followed, leaving you completely exposed. Minho still had his pants on which you felt to be a little unfair, but the tent that was beginning to form in his pants was a reason enough for him to keep them on longer.
Turning back to your side, you reached him in another sensual kiss, bodies now as close as they had even been. Minho’s fingers had much more to travel, left palm already reaching for a gentle squeeze of your best breast. His touch was noticeable enough to break away, a small groan at the digits brushing your nipple. Another chuckle escaped his lips as he watched your nipples get harder under his touch.
“Wow,” Minho gasped, gently pinching the soft flesh his eyes couldn’t help but be glued to, “you look amazing.”
“Do I?”
“More than I could have ever imagined.”
Your silence made him giggle, fingers snaking back down to where the two of you wanted them to be. It was almost embarrassing how easily his index and middle finger slipped between your folds, already coated in your arousal as his digits swirled around your pussy hole. It was evident that he wanted his fingers coated, so when he brought them up to his lips, tongue evidently out as he licked them clean, then slid them back down to your waist once more, spreading your folds apart and pushing on your clit like a button. Your hands grabbed onto his shoulders for support, the sudden amount of sensation in comparison to before sending you into a frenzy. Your jaw had already become slick, the gentle whines and moans spilling out sound after sound.
“Fuck,” He cursed under his breath, lips right in front of your tits, teeth grazing over the geneoristy of the skin, “you have the features of an angel.”
His shower of compliments caused a louder moan to slip from your lips. It really wasn’t something that you expected. The fantasy you had of Minho being a rough, man handling lover contrasted to the man that presented in front of you right now. But it was much better than anything you ever thought he was to be.
His fingers moved in delicate circular motions, Minho himself groaning at how pretty you looked under his fingers. He kept his curiosity peaked, fingers traveling back down to your hole before plunging them inside, tips instantly curling to bring his lips right up against his own.
“Minho oh my god,” you gasped, short breaths hinting at a rapid pace from your throat as he started to move them back and forth, “your fingers are so good.”
“Your welcome,” he smiled, wrapping his free arm around your chest to adjust for the way your torso squirmed against him. Your own hands soothing his arm that did all the work as he picked up his pace, a slight bump forming into your pussy. Minho’s pace became quickly unforgiven, a spill of curse words that made you feel extremely dirty coming from your mouth. The irony of feeling dirty from cussing and not from the two fingers being shoved into your whole was comedic.
“Lift it,” Minho grunted, attempting to fix his position so he could get a better angle to finger you from, “lift your leg and put it on my hip.”
You did as he said, a gut wrenching moan that was bubbling in your throat bursting at the seams as your maneuver allowed his finger to enter deeper, stronger, harder. The combination of skin slapping and wetness could be heard by anyone in the house if there was anyone in there, the noise echoing the room as you watch his eyebrows furrow, bitten bottom lip in concentration. All this time, Minho wanted nothing more than to see you be happy, make you feel good. It was in half disbelief that he was present in this moment that he had dreamed of several times. And his perception of you, with his fingers inside of you, moaning his name over and over exceeded expectations to say the least. The temperature that began to rise on your cheeks was spreading to your limbs, muscles slowly coiling as the pleasure continued to build at your core. Minho’s jaw clenched, increasing his effort and strength in, with much effort, fucking you with his fingers. His pace became even quicker, desperate and motivated to make you shake under his fingers.
“Minho please,” you cried, suffocating his lips with yours to muffle the continuous noise that baffled the room, “so good.”
Your sentences, if you could even call them that, were not coherent in the slightest. Yet it did not matter. All Minho could focus on was how beautiful you looked with your lips pouted, the gentle teeth marks under your bottom lip from biting down on your precious skin too hard. The condensation beginning to cover the skin of your forehead as your eyebrows scrunched together, your facial expression could have been interpreted as anger. However, Minho failed to see it that way. He saw you as nothing but an angelic woman that he had the gratitude of being allowed to share a moment of vulnerability with. There was no judgment in his eyes as he felt your tight pussy clench around his knuckles, knowing how close to what you were, and what he wanted to achieve for your sake.
“It’s okay baby,” he whispered, wiping the moisture glistening on the nose, half of your face shimmering in the moonlight as he withdrew his fingers, rubbing the sensual juices all over your swollen clit as your legs began to shake in response to the overwhelming stimulation you were experiencing.
“Can you feel it?”
“Mhhm,” you whined, suppressing your lips together as you focused on him, analyzing to him the intricate details of your body. His lips moved with vigor, leaving a string of semi wet kisses along your shoulder, kissing every little skin contusion, beauty mark, scab, wrinkle, dimple. You name it, Minho was eager to use his lips to analyze you, analyze the way your skin felt against him. The idea increased your arousal to a level you thought would not be possible.
“I’m gonna cum Minho I-”
“It’s okay baby,” Minho hushed you, wanting to relive any pressures or expectations you may think you need to fulfill “even the way you speak such vulgar things is angelic to me.”
“I’m cumming,” was all you could cry out. You know that once this was over, you would be appreciative of how gentle and warm his presence was to you during this unguarded moment, but right now all you could focus on was the tight coil in the pit of your stomach that would give out at any second. Like your foreshadowed, your body was coming undone under him, Minho unable to give up the succulent ability that was your pussy as he reinserted his two fingers back into your hole, thumb almost ghosting over your clit in an attempt to not overwhelm your body in sensation.
Minho thought you couldn’t get any more fascinating. Even the way you orgasmed was angelic. Legs spread wide open as you let him have his way. The trust you developed in him in this intricate moment was such an attraction but mainly an appreciation. He knew that he had not been the most trustworthy person to you. His mixed signals and just overall treatment of you was simply a mind of confusion.
On the contrary, every negative moment that you shared with him melted away. The part of him having his fingers inside of you, bringing you to climax was not what you were focused on. You were focused on the attention. Solely the attention, his words held so much more weight than his actions to you in this moment, and all he did was mumble sweet nothings, adoring every single part of you that you wanted Minho to love.
“Fuck baby,” Minho groaned, finally withdrawing his fingers entirely from your core as he palmed his own arousal. But he merely wasted any time on that as he stood up and discarded his pants in an instant. A half lidded gasp came from your throat as you watched his length spring free from the suffocation of his previous undergarments. Minho laid back on the bed, back against the bed as you extended a hand in which you willingly took, enjoying the sudden rapture that Minho had tangled the two of you in. His fingertips came to your face once more, brushing those delicate strands away as he took his precious time. Willingly ignoring the fact that your very slicked up pussy was creating friction against his tip, he was more focused on your face. The crinkles underneath your eyes that came up when you smiled. The way your lips turned upwards in the slightest. The longer he looked up at you, on his lips, body pressed up against his, the more he fell in love. Both of your hands now came to his face. It felt like hours upon hours that the two of you had been looking at each other. Calmness fell over the room as you leant down to kiss him again. The taste of him was simply nor enough. You needed him. On you, next to you; it did not matter. His presence was something that you truly craved. Sexually, platonically, romantically, it did not matter. Any closeness with Minho was more than adequate. Deciding to lift your hips slightly, your hands followed, gripping him as you slowly slid onto him, a deep groan leaving his lips, a soft moan leaving yours as he stretched you out. Before you could even initiate any moment, Minho grabbed your arm lifting your palm to his face as he sent kisses up your arm, almost as if he was in complete disbelief of what was happening in this moment.
“I just want to worship you my god,” he whispered, making you giggle in the slightest.
His lips traveled just under your shoulder, arms wrapping around his torso to bring you into another embrace. It was that his strength was brute enough to lift you up, and put your back down. Hisbody almost moved with vigor, wanting to make sure the experience was an equal one. A sharp whine came from you as he established a gentle pace, your whole body being used in an attempt to pleasure the both of you. Someone may have seen this as selfish, Minho controlling the pace, but really, he just couldn’t get enough of how much he wanted you. The amount of times he had thought about this moment over the years almost derailed him. But nothing could be more perfect than the moment right now.
Your arms were wrapped around his neck, then on his chest, across his face, you were too stimulated to be organized with your hand placements. It’s just what he did to you. Minho could tell that you were unsure, so instead he just put his head in your chest, almost wanting you to wrap your fingers though the bse of his scalp, the gentle texture of your fingers against his scalp could have honestly made his toes curl. Just like you, Minho craved your touch in any way shape or form, so the combined combainton of your closeness, tussling digits, and tight pussy was sending him into a headspin.
“Minho,” you hesitated, unsure, if he could hear you in the muffle of your chest, “Minho.”
You were desperate for him to hear you, yanking on his locks to pull him away from the darkness and back into your gaze. His eyes were glazed over for a moment, an innocent peaking on them as he looked up at you with intent.
“Yes my princess, my Y/n?”
“Yours?”
The skin slapping, volume of each time your ass landed on his hips was increasing, but no matter the crescendo, it was never loud enough to get in the way of the intimate looks the two of you had a silent agreement to fixate on.
“Mine,” he moaned, hands snaking back down to your hips, breaking this distance and once again guiding the speed of how fast he filled you up, “all mine.”
“You’re so gorgeous,” you mumbled, barely able to talk at this point, “I want you so bad you have no idea.”
“You have me,” he almost chanted, “you have me. I have you. Always.”
Your head rolled back, the intimacy of his words, rather than his cock, bringing you closer to the brink of pleasure. The attractiveness of finally putting his walls down, striking his fear of vulnerability was unmatchable. Even if things didn’t work out with Minho in the future, you knew that deep down, no one else could ever make you feel this way. Minho was a witch, and the spell he was casting on you was something that would be everlasting.
“I love you,” you cried, throwing your head back in somewhat embarrassment, “I love you Minho.”
“I love you too baby fuck,” he grunted, increasing the strength in which he filled your pussy. He couldn’t handle this anymore. Flipping you over, his body hovered, cock pressing your back into the mattress. On his knees, Minho trusted deeper and deeper, your eyes almost cloudy from how good he truly felt inside of you. Another sensuous kiss ensured, the combination of his deep moans and your vibrating whines slipped into each other 's, easily one of the most intimate things that could ever be done.
“Mhhm,: You whined, breaking away and placing a hand on his face, “I fucking love you.”
“I fucking love you, my Y/n.”
“Oh god,” you breathe heavily, free hand gripping on his shoulder, “I love when you call me that?”
“What? My Y/n?”
“Yes,” you hissed, piercing into his eyes, this time with vigor, “it makes me yearn for you.”
“You have me baby,” he smirked, eyebrows soon furrowing as he realized his hips were getting sloppy in motion, “I’m all yours.”
You could not stop kissing him. He was just too hard to resist. His words, actions, everything, you were so in love that your chest began to hurt. That pit was developing again, and all he had to do was say the words and you were there. Minho took your hand away from his face, pinning them on either side of you as he slid his fingers in between, allowing your hand to intertwine with yours. The affection was the icing on your cake, because as you felt the swirls of his finger prints trickle onto your palm, your hips were spasming.
“Minho I’m-”
“I know baby, it’s okay, he cooed, “I can feel your pussy clenching hard.”
A little giggle escaped your lips as your body raked itself of an orgasm. Back arching, the loudest noise you could have possibly made erupted from your mouth, the unintentionally new angle allowing Minho to plunge even deeper, keeping it slow as he allowed you to come down from the high. He pulled out right after, pumping himself a few times before finishing just above your core. He fell to your side, immediately lifting your body, wanting to feel that constant warmth as he placed your head against his chest, arms wrapped around your back as he kissed the mount of hair in front of his face. His heartbeat was warm, fast, but stil, a sense of comfort felt over your body as you listened to the organ pump in his chest. The moment was silent, yet comfortable, the both of you simultaneously soaking in that delicacy of affection that you both oh so craved, longed for.
Even after all of that, you still had the energy to do so. Minho read your mind, giving you a quick peck before quickly pacing out of the room. The ache in your heart had already reappeared at his absence. The craving would never stop. Luckily he was quick, grabbing a paper towel, cleaning you up, running back to the bin, the running back and jumping onto the bed, your body flying in the air as he caught you, snuggling up to your side with his head pressed into your chest. Your hand came to his hair, letting those fingertips frolic across his scalp. A silence fell over the room as the two of you simultaneously stared at the ceiling, the dim shine of the moonlight shining through the window, lingering across Minho’s side profile.
“I was being serious, you know.”
“About what?”
“Hating you.”
Minho turned onto his chest, wanting to make sure that you were staring at him when he said this.
“I could never hate you Y/N, my Y/N.”
He crawled up to your side, tall enough to press one more kiss, lips lingering across yours as your eyes fluttered shut from his touch. Lifting the cover, Minho invites you under after climbing in first, turning to the side to hover over your now very tired frame. Lips nudged behind your warm Minho kept mumbling, a combination of kissing you and whispering, the tiny vibrations from his voice tickling the bare skin.
“You’ll have to kill more before I ever let you go.”
#minho#lee minho#minho smut#lee minho smut#lee know#lee know smut#minh imagine#minho scenario#minho x reader#lee minho scenario#lee minho imagine#lee minho x reader#lee know imagine#lee know scenario#lee know x reader#stray kids#skz#stray kids smut#skz smut#stray kids imagine#skz imagine#stray kids scenario#skz scenario#skz x reader#ch4nb4ng
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Thanks! My request, please, for Jack is with shy, new to hockey reader, maybe with him getting busted for spoiling her in ways she didn't know (I love every single dynamic you write). After the first game she attends Jack has to brush off Nico's comments that he got her a front row seat, claiming it's just because it was her first hockey game. Especially Luke teasing because Jack just so happened to give her his jersey from his best game, and the skates Jack got her are coincidentally top of the line. All the while he's trying to not seem to desperate to go all in with her bashful self. This is so bad tweak or ignore all of this please and thank you.
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
.
Everyone had noticed it, yet it was none other than Ellen Hughes who pointed it out.
It was a somewhat surprise to the people in Jack’s life when he told them he had a girlfriend. Like a proper, ‘she’s the one for me’ kind of girlfriend. Ever since he had been drafted, Jack had been hesitant to dive into anything serious, anything beyond a fling or a situationship.
He was the new face of the franchise. He had the weight of everyone’s expectations on his shoulders. He had to prove that he wasn’t just some pretty boy who was decently good at hockey. He had to prove he deserved to be in the NHL, that he deserved to be first pick of the draft.
And at his age, a serious relationship wasn’t exactly high on his priority list.
Until he met you.
The boys had noticed a shift in his behaviour in the early stages of Jack’s relationship with you. The way he would be quick to check his phone after games and practices. The way he seemed quick to shrug off any advances in bars, more than happy to nurse a few drinks and giggle away to whoever he was texting before he disappeared early into the night. The way he just seemed…happier.
Luke was the first to notice something really odd.
“Yeah, my job means I travel around a lot,” he overheard Jack one day, when the boy hadn’t realised Luke had returned early from the option skate. “They are, uh, like road trips, I guess? We are heading down to Dallas tomorrow.”
And then Dawson heard something weird after a game.
“You don’t have to watch,” Jack reassured the person on the other side of the phone, a giddy smile on his face and a blush on his cheeks. “It can get quite long. It doesn’t last twenty minutes, just twenty minutes of actual playing time. It pauses when calls need to be made.”
And then it was Nico.
“No, not a suite seat. I need it beside the glass,” he overheard Jack asking one of the workers at the front office. “Preferably behind the bench. For the next home game.”
It was easy to piece together that Jack was seeing someone. It was clear that she didn’t have much knowledge on the hockey world or how the sport itself worked. And it was clear that Jack seemed eager to teach you, splurging on you in any way he could without you really catching on.
But that plan quickly failed when you finally met Ellen Hughes.
It was coming up to almost a year together when Jack asked you to come to the family skate. It wasn’t the first time you would be meeting his parents, but it would be the first hockey event you showed up to outside of the games. It was the first time you would really be setting foot on the ice yourself.
“Are those your own skates?”
You lifted your head, finding Ellen standing a few feet away with a kind smile on her face. She was already laced up and ready to get on the ice, wrapped up warmly in a similar fashion to yourself. After all, she was the one to give you tips after Jack was unhelpful with his ‘I don’t know, my jersey is pretty warm’ response.
“Yeah, Jack got them for me!” You answered, unable to bite back your smile as you glanced down at your unlaced skates. “He said they were a good starter pair, nice to have a pair of my own so he could drag me out on the ice more.”
“A starter pair?” Ellen questioned, something quite like amusement in her voice.
“What? Are they not?” You asked, a hint of hesitation lacing your words as you glanced down at the skates with doubtful eyes.
“I mean, they are hell of a pair to start with,” Ellen said with a gentle laugh. “Recognise the brand?”
You glanced back at the older woman, shaking your head.
“They are skates for professional skaters, quite a renowned brand too,” Ellen told you, still seeming like there was an underlying joke you weren’t understanding.
Your brows furrowed together. “Oh god, are they…expensive?”
Ellen simply smiled in response.
“Oh my god,” you breathed out, staring down at the skates with a conflicted expression.
“I think I’ll let my son explain everything,” Ellen said before she wandered off, the silence quickly being replaced by Jack who approached with a huge smile on his face.
“Need help?” He asked, but never gave you a chance to answer as he kneeled in front of you, already reaching for the laces of your skates to begin tying them.
You watched him closely. “Jack?”
“Hm?”
“How much did these skates cost?”
The boy froze, his fingers pausing for a few moments too long before muscle memory began to take over.
“Uh, I don’t remember,” Jack eventually blurted out, making a point of keeping his eyes on your skates. The swift movements were quickly slowed down, like he was purposefully dragging it out so he wouldn’t have to look up.
“Jack,” you scolded, though your voice was softer than he expected. “You have to let me pay you back.”
His head snapped up. “Baby, no—”
“You can’t just spend insane amounts of money like that on me!” You argued before he had the chance. “Especially on skates I’ll hardly be using!”
“But we could make you use them more?” Jack bargained with a bashful smile.
You shot him a look.
“Baby,” he sighed as he placed his hands on your knees, squeezing them softly. “I want to splurge on you sometimes. I just wanna show you I care, you know? And I wanna share my love for hockey with you. Help you love it just as much as I do.”
“You don’t need to spend stupid money to make me love it,” you retorted, but you melted at his admission as you placed your hands over his. “No more big purchases without telling me, okay?”
He sighed deeply before nodding. “Okay. Promise.”
“Good,” you smiled as you leaned down to quickly peck his lips whilst you had the chance with no cameras on you. “Now, c’mon. Teach me how to actually use these skates and make them worth your money.”
Jack snorted. “I’ve got you, baby.”
“Good because I haven’t even stood up and I still think I’m about to fall over.”
.
#jack hughes#nhl#new jersey devils#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes x you#jack hughes x y/n#jack hughes fic#jack hughes one shot#nhl x reader#nhl x you#nhl x y/n#nhl fic#nhl one shot
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Hello madame terrain, I have been thinking about boxer!jason for some time now and I'm wondering if you have any thoughts about him? if not that's totally okay too ☺️ love all your writing!!!
lol hi, madame terrain is adorable 💕 also boxer jason is big brained!!! let's do it ;)
boxer!jason todd x gn!reader. reader is an apprentice to a ringside doctor (leslie thompkins). tw creepy OMC intimidates reader, jason protects/defends r, fluff, my attempt at boxing stuff.
****
Leslie said she'd be back in an hour.
You're currently at the thirty minute mark, hoping for a natural disaster, an angel, anything, because...
"Doc gives me stuff for my pain all the time," Keith says for the third time. "It's real simple."
Keith Dixon is one of the gym's regular fighters. You haven't seen enough matches to judge his fighting, but you can confidently say that his people skills are in the toilet.
He'd barged into the office ten minutes ago and had refused to leave even when you said Leslie was out.
You need to make a break for it.
"You have to wait for Dr. Thompkins," you say, lifting your chin. You won't give in and risk losing this job. No way in hell. "I can't administer medications. I'm not licensed."
Keith rolls his eyes. He's a hothead, new to Gotham. Likes to fight. Likes to fight mean.
"Look, you're new. I'm just giving you a heads-up on how things work around here," he says, backing you up further. You're nearly against the wall.
Where the hell is Leslie?
"I'm sorry, Mr. Dixon, but I can't prescribe painkillers without her supervision."
"Uh-huh. Know what I think? I think you're just not cut out for the ring," Keith says, cornering you against the cabinet. "Cute thing like you shouldn't be hiding in an office. The Doc ought to know better..."
"Is there a problem?"
The new voice makes you flinch, just a little. Keith pulls back, posture easy but guarded. The second guy holds himself similarly. He's also well-built, clad in a gray tee and black sweatpants. His hands are wrapped.
"J-man," Keith says, daggers in his teeth. "Man, I thought you were benched for the week. You meet our new assistant? They're still getting used to how things run around here."
The mystery man looks at you. His eyes are a lovely teal.
"Is he botherin' you?" he asks.
"I—" You swallow. "I was just explaining to Keith that I can't administer medicine without Dr. Thompkins."
Keith huffs. "Jason, tell 'em how this works."
Jason faces Keith. They nearly match each other in height and bulk. You hope to God they don't decide to brawl here and now.
"I think you're the one who needs a reminder, Dixon," Jason says coolly. "Seems pretty straightforward to me. You need to wait for the Doc. So was there something else you needed?"
Keith's mouth presses into a line. You can tell he's got about a hundred ugly thoughts on his tongue right now.
"Nope," he grits out.
"Mm. Then step off."
Keith obeys. You slip out of the corner.
"I'll come back," he says.
"When the Doc's here," Jason adds. It doesn't sound like a suggestion. "If y'need a reminder of her schedule, I don't mind giving you one."
Keith looks at you. You hold his gaze, heart pounding.
"Of course," he says, all false charm, and pushes past Jason. "See ya in the ring, J.T."
You can't relax even after Keith leaves. Jason remains in the doorway. You close your eyes at the thought of dealing with another fighter. It's not bad with Leslie here, but this is your first time alone. It's already a disaster.
Obviously, none of the fighters respect you like they respect Leslie, even after three weeks of you working here. You don't even know all of the fighters.
"Hey." Jason doesn't move from his spot as he asks. "Y'okay?"
"Yes," you say, keeping your back straight. "I'm fine. Do you need medical attention?"
"I just came to get some more wraps. But I can get 'em at home."
His voice is softer now that Keith's gone.
"No need," you say. "That's what I'm here for."
You get a roll of tape from the drawer. It takes you three tries to pull the edge out. You drop it twice.
You feel Jason's eyes on you. You keep pulling the tape, but it won't comply.
"I got it," he says. "I can wrap myself. Toss it here."
You pause, tape half unfurled. "Dr. Thompkins told me to do all wraps myself."
"Leslie's cool. I won't tell her, anyway."
You shake your head. "Why don't you want me to wrap your hands?"
Jason glances to the side. He leans against the doorframe, purposely casual.
"'Cause Keith's a big guy. And I'm a big guy. And your hands are still shaking."
You tighten your grip on the tape.
Jason gestures to the office. "This is your space. I won't come in if you don't want me to. That's not how this works."
"It's... it's the job," you say, startled. "I don't—I've heard that Keith's rough with everybody."
"Yeah, well, he's an asshole. You shouldn't have to be rough back. Good fighters turn it off outside of the ring. I don't want to make you feel small. Alright?"
Tension bleeds out of your spine. You no longer feel like prey.
"It's easier if I wrap them for you," you say, and turn your back on him to fetch the antiseptic.
The tiles behind you creak as Jason hesitates for a moment. Then he walks in and sits in a chair, so you're higher than him.
He looks up at you. He really does have beautiful eyes. His eyelashes are dark and delicate. There's a faded bruise on his cheek.
He's boyishly handsome, with a mouth that looks like it smiles a lot.
"Do you also fight here?"
He nods. "Since I was eighteen. Been here a while."
You take one of his hands in both of yours. Jason's already thrown out the old tape. His knuckles are cut up. They're covered in scars. His fingernails are short and neat.
His hands are big, far bigger than yours. Veins feed into each other from the backs of his hands up his forearms.
You take out the antiseptic spray.
"Might be cold," you warn.
"'S okay."
You spray his skin. Jason doesn't even flinch.
"Your hands are really soft," he says.
"Oh, thank you. I use Isley's Salve. Works great."
Why did you share that?
Jason's mouth quirks. "Yeah? Might have to try that. My hands have seen better days."
"I have some in my bag." You let go of the half-done wrap and dig through your backpack. You pull out the small tube of salve and squeeze some onto his hands.
Jason is quiet and still as you rub in the lotion. He's pliant as you finish the wraps, letting you turn his hands over. You pull the wraps tight.
"All done," you say, face suddenly warm like you've been caught doing something you weren't supposed to.
He flexes his hands a few times. "Thanks. You're good. I can see why Leslie chose you as her apprentice."
You shrug. "Anybody can wrap hands."
"Dunno. I've seen some pretty shit wraps in my time."
"Oh. Well, um, I'm here most of the time, so feel free to come by and get your wraps changed."
He hums. "Sure. Don't worry 'bout Keith. I'll take care of it."
Your eyes widen. "I don't want more trouble..."
"You won't get trouble, I promise. We don't tolerate that here. 'Sides, he's overstayed his welcome."
You nod. "Okay. Thank you, Jason."
"No need for thank you's. Y'alright getting home?"
"Yes, I'm okay. Leslie's dropping me."
Jason nods, then picks himself up. He pauses like he wants to say something else, but he strides out of the room like he's in a rush instead.
"Well, um. G'night," he says over his shoulder. "Take care."
It's about fifteen more minutes until Leslie returns.
"Everything alright?" she asks in a tone that tells you she already knows the answer. "I ran into Jason on my way in. He said Keith Dixon gave you some trouble. I'm sorry I took so long. Are you alright?"
"You ran into—I thought Jason went home for the night."
Leslie looks like you've just told her the sky is red. "He wanted to make sure you were okay. So he waited till I came back. Are you okay? Did Keith hurt you?"
You shake your head. "No, I'm alright. Just shaken up. He's a bully. Wanted painkillers."
Leslie frowns. "He won't bother you again. I'll make sure you're not alone."
"It's okay. I mean, Jason was there."
She nods. "Mm. He's a good boy. I know his father."
"Yeah, he, uh, was nice. I wrapped his hands."
Leslie raises an eyebrow. Your shoulders rise.
"What?" you ask. "You said to practice my wraps."
She shrugs. "Nothing, nothing. I did tell you that. I'm glad you got some practice in."
You follow her to her car. Soon, Leslie pulls out of the lot.
"Leslie, do you mind if we stop at CVS?"
"Sure. What for?"
You feel for the little tube in your pocket.
"Need more Isley's Salve... I'm, uh, running low."
#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#red hood x reader#red hood x you#red hood fanfiction#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd imagine#dc fanfic#batman fanfiction#batman imagine#boxer jason todd#inbox#blurb
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Brothers reacting to MC getting hit!
Warnings: Blood, Hitting, Ass smacking, Manhandling, aggression, yelling.
Notes: This isn't proofread lmao
Part 2
Masterlist
Lucifer
Lucifers eyes glared at the group in RAD. His legs marched over to the commotion, and his crimson gaze landed on a succubus yelling at.... MC? He let out a heavy sigh and started raking through the crowd of demoms. Until a piercing sound of skin being hit rang through his ears. He looked back up only to find you on the floor, a gash on your lip, a large handprint painting your cheek. That's all it took for his demon form to emerge. The dark aura immediately caused everyone to disperse. Before the succubus could do any more, his hand grabbed their wrist tightly. "Go to Lord Diavolos office, I am sure he would love to learn about what I just saw." His voice was cold and intimidating. "If you attempt to run away, I will find you. You should know what that means." The succubus nodded and ran off to the Lords office. Lucifer kneeled down to your body, carefully grabbing it. "Let's go home."
His fingers delicately cleaned the wound on your lip, "You don't need to tell me anything. Just.... you need to stay near someone at all times, I'm serious, MC, something much worse could've happened." His voice sounded like he was scolding you in which he was, but he was mainly worried. "I know, Luci, I'm sorry." You said softly, and you wrapped your arms around his body carefully. "Thank you for everything." His heart tugged tightly in his chest, and he reciprocated the hug. "Of course, dear."
He softly kissed your forehead, "I don't understand how a human could place these feelings in me." He admitted, pulling you down into his grasp as he flopped on his bed. "Not just any human, your human." His chest swelled with intense pride in that moment, "You have never been more correct."
(Bonus: Diavolo sat happily in his office, writing away on a game week idea for RAD. Until his doors swung open, a pink haired succubus sobbing, he immediately got up to assess the situation but was stopped by Barbatos. "You may take a seat." The butler said to the succubus, she shuddered in fear, and sat in the far corner.
An hour went by, and Diavolo excused himself to answer Lucifers call. Only to return back to the room after a minute, his face enraged. "So." He started off deeply staring into the succubus eyes. "You think you can touch my exchange student?"
Poor pink haired girl)
Mammon
Mammon had invited you out to 'shop' with him, in which you, of course, agreed. Now, the two of you were in a crystal shop. "Hey, this one says prevents lava horse attacks. What kind of crystal does that?!" You asked, amazed at what the small crystal could do. Mammons eyes turned towards the gem in your hand, "Hey! There's one over there matching it perfectly. Stay here. I'll grab it." He said quickly, his body marched over to the other side of the store searching for the similar crystal.
You continued to look at the items around until you heard commotion, "Oi! I ain't stealin' anything. I'm just looking!" Mammons voice rang out. Most of the time, you'd think he was lying, but he literally just told you what he was doing. You walked over carefully, attempting to pull your dear crush from the situation. You reached for Mammons' hand "Lets-" your voice was cut off by a heavy hand slapping your arm away. The greedy demons eyes darkened as he turned into his demon form, growling, grabbing the owners arm.
"Who the hell do you think you are touching my human?" His grip got tighter, his sharp nails digging into the whimpering demon. "Never again." Was all he said before walking out, you in his arms. He grabbed a shit ton expensive crystals on the way out shoving them in his bag, not caring about the consequences. He pulled you to a bench, carefully sitting you down. His eyes immediately peered at your slightly bruised arm. "C'mon human, I could've handled it, y'know?" He said softly, "Let's go to the house, I'll take care of ya, not that I want to or anything..... just that y'know, humans are weak, and I'm your first!"
The two of you sat on your bed, his soft hands holding the ice pack on your arm. "Heh, remember the first time this happened." He said, laughing at the memory. "Yeah... you said to only come to you for help......" His eyes glistened at you, amazed at you remembering his words, "Thank you for helping me, Mams." You smiled softly at him, your lips softly pressed on his. "Oi- y-you can't just do that! B-but of course, the Great Mammon would help my human!" The two of you reminisced on moments the whole night before falling asleep in each other's arms.
(Bonus: Lucifer knocked on the door. After not getting a response, he opened it. He was shocked to see his younger brother cradling your body, even more so when he saw the expensive crystals lying around. "Mammon, why are there -" the eldest whispered in a scolding tone. "He hit them. I took his shit." The white-haired demon interrupted his older brother, in which he only nodded. "Text me the name of the place." He whispered yet again before walking towards the door, "Also, breakfast is ready." Lucifer left the room. Before walking to the dining room, he let a small smile grace his face. 'He finally found his person, the older brother thought.)
Leviathan
You sat with your boyfriend at a game convention in the human realm. It wasn't often that the two of you went on dates, but this was surely an exception. Your eyes fluttered to the screen, Leviathan once again beating a renowned gamer of the human realm. The human grew heated and threw the remote down, "Cheater!" He yelled out, causing both you and Levi to jump slightly.
"Huh?!?!" He said, placing down the controller. The dude placed his fingers in Leviathans face "fuckin' weeb, you think you're so clever cheating in front of the whole convention." His voice was filled with anger, definitely a sore loser. Your boyfriend scoffed, "As if I would ever cheat. A normie like you wouldn't understand the true art of video games!" He huffed, out, cleary annoyed at the accusations.
"Don't fucking speak to me like that." He spat at the purple-haired demon, pushing his shoulder slightly. A crowd formed around the three of you, "Don't fucking touch him!" You exclaimed, pushing the disgusting person back, gaining both of the male's attention. Before anyone could split up the fight, the males hand met your face, causing everyone to freeze in place. Leviathan sprung up, landing a solid punch on the dudes face, "Lotan will be visiting." He said before pulling you up, running outside the convention, and going to your hotel room.
His eyes scanned yours. "S-stupid normies," he muttered, his hands strictly staying at his sides. Fearful of touching you. You chucked softly at him, grabbing his hand, which shook slightly. "Thank you for protecting me, my Player #1!" His purple-orange irises widened. "Y-you did it first. I can't believe he put his filthy hands on you... now we can't enjoy our time. here." His voice was slightly shakey, his hands gripping yours tighter. "It's okay, Levi, we will go back tomorrow in our cosplay, alright?" A large smile and blush painted his face "y-yeah"
(Bonus: the two of you sat in the hotel room quietly, Levi was placing on his Ruri wig as you put on the taco mask. He made his way over to you, smiling heavily. No one had ever accepted him like you did. It truly made him feel special. "M-mc." He muttered, catching your attention. You hummed in response, "Could you..... close your eyes for me?" He asked quietly, and you smiled softly and closed your eyes. The mask on your face slightly lifted, slightly chapped lips placing themselves on your own. You opened your eyes in shock, only for a flash of Leviathan to run into the restroom.)
Satan
You and Satan sat in the Cat Café, reading books while cats cuddled into the two of you. "Ah, I'm going to use the restroom, alright Tannie?" He smiled softly at the nickname and nodded, not lifting his eyes from the page. A few minutes went by, and your body then left the restroom. Slowly walking over to your Fiancé, but a male sat in your seat flirting to a very irritated Satan. You walked over, cautiously staring at the situation at hand.
You huffed slightly, causing the male to stare at you disgusted. You grabbed a chair from another table and moved it towards Satan. However, the extra male slapped your hand. "Don't you see I'M talking to him!" His hand then gripped yours tightly, you went to go look for help from Satan but he was gone.
Suddenly, a loud crash was heard, the grip on your hand letting go. You turned your eyes to the person, only to see the blonde demon staring into his soul. True Wrath filling the room, somehow the cats aren't fazed. "Never. Touch. Them. Again." He said deeply, causing the male to cry out in fear, "Run. If I find you, you will be tortured." The male ran off from Satan's aura.
Your Fiancé sighed heavily, sitting back down. He motioned you to join him, in which you did. His hands softly grabbed your wrist, assessing the bruises slowly forming. "I will find him." He muttered lowly, causing you to sweat drop. "But.... I will not let this ruin our date." He requested some ice from the store along with a cat drink and kitten cookie for the two of you to share.
(Bonus: Satan came back to his room after the date. He laid you in his chest, softly kissing your sleeping head before he went shopping on his DDD for some book. 'The Art of Torture'......... '101 of Dignity Breaking'........ 'Soul Shattering Spells'....... he smiled softly as he ordered the books. He then opened the devilgram and looked up the page of the demon. Satan knew exactly who he was. Now, he just had to let him believe he truly got away.)
Asmodeus
The night was loud, Asmo had dragged you out to a new bar in town. He was exceptionally happy that you agreed to go with him. Currently, he was on the dance floor as you watched from aside him, giggling softly. You took another sip of your drink, and two people walked over and sat beside you. You looked at the time on your DDD, shit it was getting late. You huffed out and got up, going to grab your best friend. Only to be stopped by the two people "Some kind of fucking problem? We sat here, and you immediately left?!" The male shouted, you shook your head swiftly, "No- I just needed to go get someone."
He scoffed at you, his grip tightening on your arm, causing you to wince. "Pathetic human, its a shame they let such trash enter here." He spat at you, the female beside him giggling away. You looked in the direction of Asmo only for his back to face you. The male pulled you closer, "Humans are weak, right?" He asked the woman beside him, and she nodded and smiled.
You went to go pull away only for the male to smack your face. His hand then held your chin tightly, tears pricking your eyes. "HEY!" A loud voice rang out causing the male to look in annoyance, only for his demeanor to change "Ah! The renowned Asmodeus, care to join us in.... taking care of this pathetic thing.." He smirked slyly, Asmo quickly used his charm on him.
"Sit." The Strawberry Blonde said, his voice filled with hurt and anger. Your body tumbled backward as the larger male let go, only for the demon of lust to catch you. "The person who you call pathetic is the love of my life." He spat out at both demons, both affected by his charm. "Now, both of you, go out into the depths of the damned and never come back." He huffed out as soon as they left, "Hon, oh deary, I'm so sorry, let's go home."
He pulled you in his bathroom, carefully sitting you down on his bath. "Your beautiful skin, I am so sorry I left you, Hon. Truly, how could I ever repay you." He placed some cream on your face, which numbed the pain quickly. "It's alright, Asmo. I got you know. Heh, the love of your life~" you teased. The male-only nodded, causing you to blush heavily. "I meant what I said, MC"
(Bonus: After the two of you took care of your wounds, he led you to his bed. He apologized multiple times over the night, horrified at your bruises. However, he made it up by kissing you. Both of you made it official to the brothers the next day. Then the two of you had to explain the bruises......... that didn't sit well.)
Beelzebub
You sat in Café Lament, waiting for Beel to come back with the hoard of food. You took a sip of Bufo Egg Milk Tea. Your eyes locked on the orange head, who started to walk over, his arms filled with food. He settled the snacks down and sat on the chair. Only to sigh heavily, "I forgot the forks, hold on, I'll be back." He said, but you quickly grabbed his hand. "I got it, love. Don't worry. Go ahead and eat." He smiled a large smile before shoving his face with food, muttering a thank you.
You walked up to the grab section and grabbed many bamboo ware, preparing them to break in Beelz grasp. "Hey, hot stuff," someone said beside you. You shuffled your eyes to their body. Your brain grimaced at his appearance. He was obviously a sex crazed creep, trying to get you as his next prize. You gave a soft smile and went to walk towards Beel. Who had his eyes on you the whole time. As you walked, a sharp pain was shot through your ass, causing you to drop the bamboo ware. You whipped your head back only to find the man floored by Beel.
It was shocking, The Avatar of Gluttony was by NO means violent. So seeing him in such a fit of rage made your heart stop being for a second. "Leave." He said to the male, who scurried out of the Café. Everyone went back to their own business, Beel then turned his attention to you. "Are you okay, MC?" He asked softly, his arms wrapping around you. You nodded and hugged him back. "Let's go eat, Beely." He smiled again and pulled you to sit with him. Your body plopped into his lap, your ass still stinging a little. "Here I'll feed you." He mumbled with his mouth already full.
(Bonus: the two of you laid in the common room, Belphie taking up the other couch. "MC, I'm sorry he assaulted you like that." He mumbled to you. His eyes were saddened as he looked at you. "My Beel, you protected me! Stop saying it as if you did it." You giggled and kissed his lips. You looked back at the fireplace only to jump when an angry Belphie was in face. "Explain." He said. this was gonna be a long night.)
Belphegor
The two of you were dozing off in class. He was your seat partner, so it was quite difficult not to get affected by his drowsiness. Your head once again bounced while doing the work. There was a sub today, so the teacher just gave paper assignments. The bell rang loudly, causing you to jump. You softly shook Belphegors' shoulders, "Hmm?" He mumbled, causing you to smile. "C'mon, sleepyhead, it's time to go home." He nodded and slowly gathered his stuff.
You went to go walk out with Belph but was stopped by the substitute, "MC. Correct?" She said, annoyed, both you and the youngest brother turned around, "Ah yes, that's me." You mumbled, waiting for her to respond. "I need to have a word with you." She said, Belphie looked at you with hesitant eyes but walked to the door, "I'll be out here." He said.
The substitute glared at you as soon as the door closed. "You are so disrespectful." She spat at you, her body getting into your personal space. "Ah- I do apologize ma'am I am unsure of what you're talking about." She scoffed at you, her finger pointed in your face, "Sleeping while working! A disgusting human like you should know better!" You groaned heavily at her words, this again, each time someone new came to the school they thought they could speak to you however they wanted.
Your groan seemed to have pissed her off cause as soon as it left your lips, she slapped you and pushed you into a desk. The door flung open, and an infuriated Belphegor in his demon form stood in front of the substitute. He grabbed their jaw tightly, his nails digging into her skin. "Isn't so nice now, is it?!" He said with a malice filled grin, the woman shuttered in fear as she dropped to her knees. Belphie knelt down and whispered something in her ear before quickly grabbing you and rushing to the HOL.
He pulled you into the attic and huffed heavily, opening the mini fridge and grabbing some ice packs. He placed you on the bed and carefully handed you them. "I'm sorry, MC, I know it's annoying to always be looked down upon." He muttered. He carefully laid his body on yours after you settled the ice on your body. He whispered something, and suddenly intense relaxation hit you. He would do this whenever you were stressed or hurt. You closed your heavy eyes, Belphie sighed softly and kissed your shoulder before joining you to sleep.
(Bonus: Lucifer looked at his DDD, bewilderment hitting his face. It wasn't often that his youngest brother texted him, so he immediately opened it. His face grimaced at the message. It was an image of a dark bruise that was on your shoulder. 'What happened?' Lucifer typed. 'Substitute lost their shit on them, I messaged you this in defense, I gave them a heavy sleeping spell.' The eldest brother sighed out, of course. He would usually be mad, but this was proper punishment. 'No worries, good choice,' he texted back before closing his phone. "I'm gonna need to teach these demons a damn lesson.")
#obey me#obey me fanfic#obey me x reader#obey me x mc#mammon x reader#lucifer x reader#asmodeus x reader#leviathan x reader#satan x reader#beelzebub x reader#belphegor x reader
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wc: 10k (next time I write this much shoot me down from the start) author note: wrote this to celebrate one year since I have been writing for bllk! Since my first post was about Sae I thought to celebrate with a fic about him. If you know me a bit, you know Sae is far from being one of my faves so I feel like a clown writing this much for him sob.
tw: none. 10k words of fluff more or less.
If you like my writing consider supporting me on ko-fi!
You are sitting on an iron bench, wet from head to toe, with no way to protect yourself from the incessant rain. Your makeup is ruined and tears can’t be discerned from the droplets of rain running down your face.
You look desperate and there is no need to look at your face to understand that, you supporting your head with your hands is enough, crouched on yourself, sighs sound dulled by the downpour.
“You look pathetic.” It’s a familiar voice, one that makes your skin crawl and now increases your heartbeat to dangerous levels. You look up and you see him, in all his cold beauty. He is wearing a brown boiled wool coat, underneath a turtleneck black sweater peaking out. He is looking down at you, like a high-class rich when he sees a snotty kid, the grey umbrella covers a bit his face, but those ice irises pierce your figure anyway.
“Sae-“ You whisper out your voice full of disbelief and shame.
But how did you find yourself in such a miserable situation? We have to go back a bit.
One year ago
You have never been a fan of parties, they can be a good way to unplug your brain for a bit before going back to normal life. But after a while you need a break, the music and sweaty bodies overwhelm your senses. Your friend Elisa stays back, a guy caught her attention but she asks where you’ll go, in case she won’t see you for long.
You go outside, the cold breeze of winter hits your naked skin making you shiver, but at least you can now breathe. There is nobody else outside other than you and a red hair sitting on the small brick wall on the opposite side of the entrance. You decide to sit there too, at a safe distance not wanting to bother him but close enough to start a chat in case you stay there a little longer than needed.
You look around a bit, breathing in and out while you notice the leaves moving and bushes filled with trash. It’s not a great sight and for sure straining your sight for that doesn’t seem a good idea, so your eyes fall on the stranger sitting next to you. He is now checking his phone, red strands framing his face. You notice his long lashes, it’s always guys that have the crazy luck to have doe lashes, the lower ones touching the apple of his cheeks. He looks young, but he has a mature aura around him, an idea that comes from both his posture and his clothes. The sky-blue shirt he is wearing must be crazy expensive-
“Can you stop looking at me?” You widen your eyes, now comically big.
“You mean-“ You point a finger towards yourself, but you can’t finish the phrase that the guy snaps back.
“Yes, you. Stop looking at me.” He finally faces you, his teal eyes staring at you as you’d do with a cockroach; the same amount of disgust.
He stands up now in front of you “You must be the friend of my physiotherapist, right?”
You nod. After all, it is thanks to her if tonight you are here, at a party full of famous football players and hot beyond imagination models…you must stick out like a sore thumb.
“I guess you recognized who I am. Please, stop. I don’t want to know you, I don’t have time for a relationship.”
Your mouth is wide open.
“I don’t know who you are-“
“Yeah, sure. I have to go now. Don’t follow me.” He doesn’t even wave back, he just gives you his back and walks away.
You have never felt so angry in your life, and you had to deal with a lot of assholes to reach this point in your life.
You stomp inside, searching for Elisa to ask what the fuck is wrong with people and you find there, the guy from before still next to her but there are also other guys and girls and him. The first reaction is to walk away, possibly closing yourself inside the bathroom until they finished chatting or, at least, that guy walked away, but luck isn’t on your side your friend already waving at you signaling to go sit with her.
There is just your friend's body between you and that guy, but this time it’s your eyes that throw daggers at him every time he just even breathes your way; he doesn’t seem to care and it angers you even more.
“Oh let me present you to Sae! He is the football guy I work for!” She said looking at you with a smile that goes from one ear to the other, alcohol playing crazy tricks in her mind not to notice your cracked mood. You extend your hand, trying to be a decent person and you see him sighing. Why punching idiots is not acceptable in modern society? Maybe because you probably wouldn’t be able to stop, after hitting that ugly mug the first time.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Sae.” Your smile is fake, but you think you do a good job of hiding your feelings. The handshake is short, but while you tighten the grip to show you aren’t a weakling, the red hair slips his hand away the second your palms touch.
“Call me Itoshi.”
“Mh? Is that your name?”
“No, it’s my surname. I don’t like strangers to call me by my name.” He replies, back now hitting the red sofa of the club, looking somewhere on the dancefloor, probably at the butt of some dancer.
You look straight into the eyes of your friend and something finally clicks in her mind because you see cold sweat forming on her forehead after the interaction you had with Sae. No, wait. Itoshi.
“Well, guys-“ She claps her hand “it’s time for us to go, thanks for having us.” She stands up and you follow while she finishes to say goodbye to her colleagues. “See you tomorrow, Sae. Don’t exaggerate with drinks!” It’s clearly a joke, her tongue pokes out and Sae smiles back at her.
He would be cute. If only he isn’t such a shit. Your heart almost jumped with joy when the corner of his lips turned upwards, but your brain, thankfully reminded your body how he treated you a few minutes ago.
The walk towards your friend’s car is silent, the people inside the club making enough noise. Your silence gets broken when you enter the vehicle, before your friend can turn the engine on she stares at you.
“I leave you alone a few minutes and you get in a catfight with my client, really?” There is no real anger in her voice, knowing her position isn’t in danger. So you explode at her, telling her chapter and verse of what happened between you two.
“Is he always such an asshole? I feel sorry for you, I hope he pays you enough.” Your friend’s head hits the headrest, and a loud bubbly laugh escapes her mouth.
“Is he worse? Fuck maybe you should change job-“
“No, no. It’s that I invited you tonight because I hoped you could get together in the future.” Her voice is often broken by laughter and finally, anger free, you remember that she probably has drunk too much.
“Let’s switch, you are drunk.”
“No, c’mon. Sae is usually nice! He is a bit cold, but I thought a partner, or just a friend-” and it’s not hard for you to imagine he has nobody to talk with, every time he opens his mouth it’s the same as having two fingers in your eyes “You are also single, so I thought it could work out!” She slaps your shoulder and keeps giggling and now you are sure that you need to be the one to drive you both home.
“Don’t ever leave your job, you suck at playing Cupid-“ You giggle too, finally switching places and driving you both home.
The drive is filled with useless chatter, your friend seemed really into that dude of before, Leonardo is his name? Tomorrow with a more lucid mind you’ll dig more into your friend's new crush.
And you hope you’ll soon forget about that asshole of teammate too.
8 months ago
When you return home after an intense day of work, the bare minimum you request is complete relaxation. No parties, no worries, no discussions; it’s the perfect way to welcome the weekend.
What you don’t want is to get jumpscared before you can even step in, a certain teal-eyed dude the first thing your eyes see.
“Fuck!” You are tempted to close the door, maybe it’s all your imagination and when you reopen he, the Itoshi, won’t be there anymore. But you don’t live in a fantasy world, sadly, so you know you’ll have the accept your fate.
“What happened?” It’s your friend’s voice screaming from the kitchen.
“Nothing, I’ve just seen a cockroach.” You reply with a monotone voice, closing the door with your foot.
You look better at the intruder, sitting on your couch. One hand has the remote, zapping between the channels, the other lying on the top of the furniture, fist keeping up his head.
He turns to look at you “Did you see yourself in the mirror?” And the sudden urge to hit him with the house key pervades your body. You groan at his comment, but decide to drop the topic; you have no energy to get angry.
“Oh, sorry I didn’t tell you before but Sae is staying with us this week. His apartment is flooded and all his teammates couldn’t help him out.” She comes into the living room with a bowl of…freshly cut vegetables? You suppose it was your guest's request, as much as Elisa likes carrots there is no way this was a choice born from her brain.
Now you know why she didn’t tell you anything about it. You would have taken a hotel room and made Elisa pay for it if you knew what was going on. He, at least, thanks her and it surprises you because you thought he didn’t know what manner are. Or common courtesy.
“I’m going to change into something more comfortable.” You sigh, your mind already adjusted to the idea of having that dude in your house. ‘It won’t be forever. Calm down. Don’t shout, don’t get angry.’ You repeat to yourself while wearing the comfiest pj in your wardrobe; you need it.
When you go back into the living room the film was already chosen, but you don’t mind, so tired that you know you’ll fall asleep the moment your head hits the pillow. The chat gets louder and definitely pick your interest.
“We both go to medical field universities! I finished my studies at home and as you know I work here, but-“ Elisa points her index finger at your figure, a fluffy cover hiding your body all crouched up on a side of the couch not to touch, or just get near, the guest “She is still studying to become a doctor! She will stay here one year and then she will need to go back home to finish her studies, right?” You nod at your friend's words, now looking at the film.
“The film isn’t bad.” You whisper, humming in agreement.
“It was my choice.” A deeper voice replies back, it’s Sae.
You look at him until you meet his teal eyes. You see an equal amount of tiredness in his eyes and you seem to silently agree not to sassy reply back.
You are able to look at the film without falling asleep, at times you can feel Elisa asking stuff to Sae but you are too distant to understand what they say. There is a pang of jealousy that stabs your heart, usually, you chat with Elisa while watching films and you don’t like the idea of being substituted by him.
You try to brush away the feeling. Maybe she is the one who has a crush on him, and even if you think she has questionable taste you won’t put yourself against their love. You yawn the second the end credits start to roll. You decide to go to bed, since you have no strength to add yourself to their pillow-talk, in the shared room you have to Elisa.
“I’ll come soon too.” She whispers while you nod, walking away; probably she wants a moment with her crush. You don’t even hear her opening the door, your brain voyaging dreamland the second your head hit the pillow.
You are the first to wake up in the morning, you step toward the kitchen trying not to wake up your roommate, and start to prepare coffee for the both of you. You are so used to making it that it becomes an automatism. It’s when the moka is on the fire that you start to look around, noticing a package that definitely wasn’t yours or of Elisa.
“That’s mine.” You hear croaking behind you, the sound makes you jump on your place.
“Yeah, it seemed pretty obvious. What is it? Some kind of tea?”
“Yes, it is salted kombucha tea. Want to try it?”
You snort and Sae looks at you questioningly, probably thinking his pronunciation is wrong.
“I hate tea. I’m team coffee.” You say pointing with your thumb to the moka, now gurgling a sign that your coffee is ready. Sae looks at you with disgust, a face you know pretty well by now.
“We are really different.”
“I was thinking that too.” You say now giving him the back to take the cups on the high shelf, a spoonful of sugar in your cup, nothing in Elisa's one.
Meanwhile, he has moved, opening the window of your kitchen. Summer is starting but the weather is still acceptable, morning breeze is a nice way to freshen the house.
“You want to make your own tea or I can do it for you? Do you trust me?” You say smirking, already knowing the answer.”
“I prefer to make it myself.”
You nod, a Chesire smirk plastered on your face. You point out where he can find the kettle, now sitting on the table, right next to the window, your head supported by your right hand.
He soon sits in front of you with his cup of tea, he looks outside for a moment, giving you the possibility to admire his features again.
He has a nice jaw, his skin is pretty smooth, probably he doesn’t have much beard, his upper lip is arched perfectly, his lips plump but not too big or better, they suit his face. His nose is slightly pointed upwards-
“You like to stare.”
Your head slid comically; you got caught, again.
“It happens when I look at beautiful stuff.” Really, the comment slips from your mouth before you can bite your tongue. But you feel him choking on his tea and it soothes the pain.
“You are also bold.” He looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, with such hatred in his eyes you almost worry to have done something way worse than throwing a compliment in his way.
“I just like to joke around.” You smile in your cup, a smile that grows wider when his eyebrows comically drop.
You hear him clicking his tongue, but you don’t say anything more.
You both finish your beverages, but Elisa is still sound asleep.
“Shouldn’t you wake her up?”
“Today is her free day, let her relax a bit.” You reply, putting his cup into the dishwasher.
You see uneasiness in his eyes, there is something he needs to tell you, so you make the first move as a good host.
“Is there something you need?”
“Usually I do yoga and meditate. Can you go out.” He formulated it as a request, but it sounded like an order in your ears.
“Can’t you do it in the living room? Or your bedroom?” You propose.
“My bedroom is too small. There are no windows in the living room and I’d prefer to breathe fresh air.” You nod, his reasoning makes sense and there isn’t else you need to do in the kitchen.
“Can you teach me?” You propose half to piss him off, half because you suffer from terrible neck pain and you know yoga could help you out.
You notice how bad he takes it and you bask in the sensation of being finally able to take a rise of him.
“Don’t you have to go to university? Or I don’t know, student stuff?” He says it fast and makes you chuckle.
“It’s too early! I have all the time of the world now.” You get near him, trying to muster up the nicest puppy eyes ever done “I swear I’ll be a good student and won’t joke around.”
“No.” Your nice façade drop.
“You are a real pain.”
“Look at yourself before saying that.” He looks at you with the same eyes as your encounter. The best choice is to leave him alone, and you do, but not without grumbling.
When you enter your bedroom Elisa is wide awake, already dressed for the day reading a book, a fantasy you guess knowing her taste.
“Mh? Elisa why are you here? You didn’t want to have breakfast with Mr. Sourpuss?” She clearly didn’t notice you entering the bedroom. She closes the book and smiles at your comment.
“I didn’t want to bother your bonding time.” She sing-sangs, book placed on the night table.
“Is this a way to force me to like your new boyfriend?” Your eyes pierce her figure, muscles tense, trying to grasp any twitch or wince on her face. But nothing comes, if anything she replies to you with a pure laugh, not a fake one.
“I don’t see Sae that way, you dunce-“ Elisa stands up, hands now on your shoulders shaking you “I really think you can get along, please give him a chance.” She says exasperated.
“Tell him that, he is always an ass with me, and please-“ You say removing her hands from your shoulders “Stop playing Cupid, it’s really not your job.” You go towards your wardrobe ready to change for the day while Elisa keeps whining but no words get registered in your brain.
You don’t see anybody for lunch, so you spend a quiet afternoon at home, reviewing your notes and refreshing the lesson of the previous day.
Elisa is the first to come home, there is still light outside thanks to the longer summer days and she helps you out cooking dinner.
“We have to cook something healthy, you know-“ She winks “For our guest.”
Damn, for a second you forgot about him. “Shouldn’t he cook? So we are sure to prepare the right stuff.”
“I don’t know how to.” You hear from the living room, it’s his voice. You walk to the living room and you see him, freshly showered you guess from the soft soap smell coming from him and with two bags containing what you guess is food.
“I asked my private chef to cook for all of us.” He says placing the bag on the coffee table in the living room.
“Thanks, Sae!” Elisa says “Let me take these to the kitchen, I’ll prepare the table.”
“Do you need help?” Elisa brushes off your question “I know how to put a tablecloth and cutlery.”
To you, it sounded like an excuse to make you stay alone with the redhair.
“Thanks, Itoshi.” You hate how his surname rolled on your tongue, but you had to accept it.
He nods, removing his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack. You don’t miss to notice how at home he already feels; for sure he has good adaptation skills.
“So, how was your day?” You try to small chat, to break the unbearable silence it was already forming.
“Like always.” His answer is curt, but you can’t understand if it is because he doesn’t want to talk or just because it is him.
“And yours?” This surprises you.
“It was a good day. I was able to take a lot of good notes and the lesson was interesting.”
He nods at your words “I suppose it is hard.”
“Yes, but it is also really rewarding. For example-“ You start to blabber, and you notice it but you can’t stop, excitement guiding you even if you know your interlocutor has little to no interest in what you are saying. Embarrassing.
“Hey! It’s ready.” It’s Elisa that save you, stopping your blabbering. “What were you talking about?” She asks, curiosity evident.
You’d like to reply but you are too astonished by the food in front of you. Everything looked mouth-watering, you didn’t even know food could get such vivid colors, not to talk about the smell-
“She was telling me about her cardiac surgery lessons.” Sae replies for you, thankfully your eyes are already comically wide thanks to the food in front of you so nobody notices your surprise at his words.
So he was listening?
“Oh! I’m happy you are finally knowing each other, but now let’s eat! We don’t want the food to get cold.” You both nod at Elisa words and damn the food was as beautiful as it was delicious. There is not much chat, enjoying the meal in silence, just the background sound of the television to keep you company.
“Hey, you should accompany Sae to the aquarium one of these days.” Elisa says with a voice full of cheer. It doesn’t take much for you to understand where she took that idea, the advertisement of the aquarium still going on television.
“Well, it all depends on Sae, he has really strict hours-“
“Let’s go tomorrow. I have no training to do.” He says, no real force behind his words like he is just accepting his fate.
You gasp a bit “Oh, okay then. Is it fine in the afternoon?”
He nods, slurping down some of his cold noodles, you can only wish your technique will ever be as good as his, not a single drop of oil staining his shirt or mouth.
The dinner ends quietly, you place the crockery in the dishwasher and go directly into your bedroom.
The morning comes awfully quick and you feel even more tired than when you went to sleep. You proceed with your morning routine, not Elisa nor Sae insight so you take it easy. After you prepare yourself you go back to your books, your attention often grasped by anything going on.
Your attention gets caught one more time by a notification on your phone; it’s Eliza.
“Got a cute lunch date with a cutie. Try not to kill Sae and have a nice date <3” Ugh. She can be so pushy at times. You sigh and notice the hour, it’s time to eat.
When you enter the living room you notice Sae already made himself comfortable on the sofa.
“I didn’t hear you coming in.”
“I tried to be silent. I was doing yoga so I didn’t make much sound.” He replies, boredom dripping from his voice as usual. You nod “Are we blessed again by your chef's food today or I’m on my own?”
“The latter.”
“Oh! Can I make you piadina? It’s an easy dish to make.”
He turns around, teal eyes finally looking at you “What are the ingredients?”
“It’s easy! It’s more or less a circle of bread that gets folded this way and you can choose how to fill it.” You walk near him and show him the screen of your phone, the picture on it the perfect example of a perfect piadina.
“So…I can choose something different than fried potato, right?”
“Yes, you fill it with whatever you want. Simply sausage and fried potatoes with pepperoni is a classic match.” He looks at you with disgust, and at this point it makes you laugh.
“Not a fan? I swear the match is heavenly.”
“Aren’t you a doctor? You should know fried potatoes are toxic to the body.” This time you chuckle out loud.
“Fried potatoes are the last thing you should worry about between the ingredients I told you. And anyway-“ You sign to him to walk with you towards the kitchen “You won’t die eating it once in a while.”
“I don’t know anything about this stuff. I just go with what my manager and dietologist tell me.” He replies, pointing to the fridge with the ingredients he wants.
“No? For real?” You start to cook his one, the guest always comes first.
“Yeah, other than football I don’t know much else.” You notice a hint of sadness in his voice, irises darkening a bit and it tickles something in the back of your brain.
“Well, next time why don’t you help me cook? You may have a personal chef but it is nice to have different skills.”
He nods, he doesn’t burst with joy, but he seems serious. You give him his dish, arugula, and tomatoes. You do the same, half because you like the match and the other half because you don’t want to prepare other ingredients.
You eat in silence, something you already expected.
“Are you ready to go to the aquarium?” You ask, putting the dish in the dishwasher.
He nods giving you his one. Previously Sae asked you if you wanted to go by car “If you don’t trust me I can always call my driver” but you refused his offer, telling him that you’d bring him there gladly and with the perfect vehicle for such a sunny day.
“Good, get ready because my vehicle is amazing.” He bends his head a little, confused by your words, but doesn’t inquire more. He supposes it will be a surprise.
For sure it is a surprise, but not the good kind.
“It’s a bike.” His voice drips venom, but you brush it off.
“Not just a bike, it’s a graziella! Perfect to carry people on the back!” You say, slapping the bike rear-rack.
“It’s too low, it will be uncomfortable for my legs.” He retorts but you don’t desist, smiling back at him.
“In fact, you don’t have to sit, you have to stand up on it on completely trust my skills.” The face he makes is pure comedy, it’s a mixture of scared, anger and, as always, disgust. “C’mon mister Itoshi. I swear you can trust me, not even a bug will hit your precious legs, let alone the ground.” You hear him gulp and see the gears in his brain running, you wait a few seconds but the answer finally arrives.
“Okay, but if something happens to me you’ll pay with interest.” You nod and smile back sitting on the saddle. You soon feel the bike moving under you with the added weight. You start to pedal not wanting to lose balance and make you both fall on the ground and his hands immediately find support on your shoulder, gripping tight on them.
“Let’s go!” You shout, the bike is harder to manage but you push forward. The ride is silent, the summer breeze dancing around you two, only gasps can be heard from the guy standing on the back when you take a hole making both the bike and Sae jump. His hands aren’t as tight on you anymore, probably he is trying to trust you as best as he can, it’s pleasing to think he is starting to trust you, the feeling runs to your head becoming a pink fog that makes you feel dangerously well and uncaring. You are sure you would look like a postcard if someone took a photo right now, you feel so peaceful that it’s hard to imagine you look bad right now.
Dangerous because you almost don’t notice that you arrived at the aquarium, pulling harshly on the brakes almost making your guest jump off the bike if it wasn’t for his hands harpooning your shoulders.
“Sorry-“ You say in between your teeth, wincing at your mistake. You hear him scoff but he decides to not salt in the wound.
“Put the bike there, I’ll pay for the tickets.”
“Are you sure? I can pay for my own-“ He doesn’t even listen to you, walking to the ticket office without looking back at you once.
The visit was actually really fun, for you at least, Sae never expressed any kind of emotions, the corners of his lips a line that never twitched upwards or downwards. You see teals eyes looking around, but it seems nothing catches his attention. At least he stops when you ask, not a groan of disapproval, not a happy smile either.
“I like penguins.” You say looking at the glass separating you from the cute bird wobbly on its feet. A gasp of surprise escapes your mouth when one of them dives into the salty water to stop exactly in front of you. You pull at the end of Sae’s shirt, the excitement going straight to your head, too busy being ‘a finger apart’ than ruining your guest's clothes. You shout in happiness but the sound is drowned by the squalls of kids around you.
“I can see.” Finally, a hint of a smile appears on his face, but you are now too busy looking back at the penguins to notice it. Meanwhile, Sae is too busy looking at the features of your face, looking for once at you, not looking down on you. The blue and soft lights of the aquarium make you look like a dream, the joy in your eyes matching your smile.
Something moves inside him, it’s pleasant but it fades in a snap of a finger when you face him again, prompting him to walk towards the next glass. You talk about colorful jellyfish or something like that. It’s not that he is interested in anything there. After all, he accepted Elisa’s offer not to sound too rude even for his standard. But he thinks, that moment of happiness on your face was in part worth the deal.
Not that you’ll notice head entirely elsewhere.
“It was nice. Thanks for paying.” You are now outside, bike on hand while you walk near the seashore. The wind is stronger there, and more than once you shrink in your place, while the guy next to you is perfect, as always. A porcelain doll crafted by the most expert hands ‘too bad they didn’t lose another minute to work on his personality, tho’ you think.
“No problem. Can we stay here a minute longer?” Sae asks, but he is already still, as always it was an order, not a question. You nod, the sun is setting, painting the sea warm colors, waves are big but reduced to nothing when they arrive so near your feet. You see him breathing in, eyes closing to enjoy the moment.
“Do you like the sea, Itoshi?”
“Yes. I used to always visit the beach with my brother.”
“Oh, I didn’t know you have a sibling! Is he hot?” You chuckle, blossoming in full laughter after he sides eye you, annoyance mixing with the green of his eyes.
“He isn’t your type.” He clicks his tongue “You like handsome guys and he is not.” His voice is flat, as usual.
“Handsome guys? Yeah, I like them, obviously but why do you have this idea of me?”
“Simple-“ a smile, a real one, grace his features “You like me.” You gasp at his world, pushing his shoulder, but his body barely move.
“Mister Itoshi, your ego is way too big!” You puff out your cheeks, but there is no real anger in your words.
“Sae.”
“Mh?” The silence lasts very little but it feels like an eternity.
“Call me Sae.” His teal eyes link with yours. His voice is low, serious and makes your knees wobble a little. He looks happy, the sun painting beautiful shades on his fair skin. It’s honestly a breathtaking sight.
“Okay, Sae. Your ego is still too big!” You break the tension, too heavy all of a sudden. Too intense for two strangers who couldn’t even suffer each other.
Just too much.
The spell is broken and you see him wince, ‘probably he didn’t want to sound so intense’ you think telling him to go back home. The ride is silent, when midway it’s Sae who decides to talk.
“Why are people looking at us weird?”
“Maybe because you are a football superstar?”
“No, the look when people recognize me is different.” You hum, but you come up with another motivation quick.
“Maybe because you are the one being carried! Usually is the guy that carries around the woman.” You state, no malice in your words. He is silent for a few seconds.
“Let’s switch.”
“You don’t have to worry, I don’t care about this-“
“I said stop pedaling and switch places with me.”
“Stop ordering me around! Plus if you have never done that there is no way you can keep me-“
“If you don’t switch I’ll jump off the bike, I’ll hurt myself and do you remember what you promised me this afternoon?” You feel more of his weight on your shoulders like he wants to remind you of his upper position, just figurately now “I’ll make you you pay, remember?” It’s the same voice he used on you the first time you met and it made you reflexly pull the brakes, this time slower so he could jump off without any risk.
He sits on your place and clicks his head, as a sign for you to stand on the back.
“But if you hurt me? What do I gain?” Your voice is wobbly, not trusting him at all. Your hands grip tightly on his shoulders and you are sure there will be a red sign there tomorrow.
“I’ll kiss it better. Now shut up.” He starts pedaling, not checking you once. For sure you didn’t like his answer but jumping off now sounded like a good way to sprain your ankle.
“Do you know at least the road to go home!?” He takes a hole and makes you jump, you suppose it’s the karma for how you drove before
“…okay. Talk just to tell me where to go.”
You arrived home, safe and sound. You don’t kiss the ground just because you don’t want to act overdramatic, but feeling the ground under your feet with no wounds on your legs seems a real miracle. Elisa welcomes you both with a big smile, her eyes are tired but you notice a drop of happiness in her eyes so you do not worry. The week goes by naturally. You and Sae don’t banter as often, but calling what you have a friendship would be a stretch, Elisa still tries to push you into something more, but her attempts are failures, if not disasters most of the time. Thankfully Sae doesn’t dig further, not that he cares since he is so sure you have a mind-numbingly, heart-shattering crush on him anyway.
The real surprise comes when he goes back home, everyone is back to their normal life ‘till one day receives a message from an unknown number. It’s not a text, but a picture of you two, of when you were going to the aquarium since you were the one pedaling. There are ginormous texts on the sides probably it has been published by one of those gossip magazines you tend to avoid.
“Who are you?” You text back, and an answer will not be long in coming.
“Sae. Elisa gave me your number.” You smile thinking how happy she probably was when Sae asked for it. She was probably giggling like a schoolgirl.
“Why did you contact me? It’s a problem if we were seen together?”
“No” A dry texter, exactly what you expected.
“Then let me say; we really looked beautiful.” You write it with a heart bursting in happiness. You both looked happy, your faces radiating joy. You may not be an earth-shattering beauty but nobody would have been able to sincerely say you looked bad.
“We did.”
You are happy to know he feels the same.
5 months ago
You are at a beach party. Honestly, you would rather be somewhere else but after closing yourself for two months at home to pass your exams you need a bit of fresh air. Summer is now leaving its place to autumn, the days are still long, but at least the temperature is acceptable. Stars are shining high in the sky and everyone seems to enjoy the party. You wear a cute dress, ‘the one for good occasions’ you repeat to yourself. It’s not tight, the skirt is large enough that you can easily move around, but it hugs your waist before getting larger again on the chest area-
“Hey-“ Elisa elbows you “Sae is sitting on the couch all alone, why don’t you keep him company.” She laughs but this time it isn’t for the alcohol; she is just dumber because she could get with her crush, Leonardo. Actually, he was the one to set the party all teammates and their partners invited. You actually came thanks to Elisa's invite, but you would be lying if you said that it didn’t matter seeing Sae.
Something more keen to a friendship developed between you two during these months, the messages you exchanged a clear sign. What surprised you the most was that he also was the one to start conversations, asking if you were fine, checking if everything was okay. You had no other occasion to meet in person, between matches and studies you both had your hands full, so you don’t mind actually catching up with him.
“Hey sourpuss, it has been a while!” You plop down on the couch next to him. He widens his eyes in surprise, looking like a scared kitten, before returning to the bored expression, not even greeting you.
“Not even a hello? Bad night for our Casanova?” You chuckle as he clicks his tongue knowing full well you are teasing him.
“You know I’m not interested in a romantic relationship.” He is bored out of his mind and you decide to tease him some more…maybe you drunk too much.
“Well, it seems to me you are liking that girl over there. Your eyes are glued to her-“ You can’t finish the phrase, his index finger pressing against your lips.
“I never thought you were one for physical contact.”
“Never know you liked to drink this much either.” He takes the drink from your hand and takes a sip from it. “It actually tastes good.”
“I know it, you big bully! I just wanted to cheer you up and I get treated this way.” You whine. The redhead looks at you for a minute too long, pondering what to do, when his hand decides to find the crown of your head, patting you.
“Shh baby, everything is fine.” It’s a smile full of mirth and it reminds you that he is really handsome, in case your memory fails you. You must look like a pathetic cat in front of him, all pouty and a bit stupid thanks to alcohol.
“I just wanted to spend some time with you.” You whisper out, but for sure he could hear it, getting closer to you. This time you don’t see any mirth in his eyes, back to his usual seriousness so you decide to be direct with your feelings. “I missed you. That week living together made me really change my opinion of you.” This time you don’t whisper and you see Sae getting taken back by your words, batting his long lashes at your words. You can’t hold his gaze so you fix yourself on the fire in front of you, made to perfectly set the beach party atmosphere.
“Then we should meet more often.” You look back at him, but this time it’s Sae looking elsewhere, not at a specific person on the dancefloor, simply looking in front of him. “Taken with moderation it’s nice talking with you.” It’s his usual sarcasm and you feel melting, like he just removed a heavy weight you didn’t even know to carry.
“Okay, let’s promise!” You hold your pinky out and it makes Sae raise his eyebrow.
“I appreciate you wanting to integrate my culture, but we stop doing that after elementary sch-“
“Shhh, don’t break the magic! Just do it!” He sighs before rolling his eyes but at the end, he gives up intertwining your pinkies together.
“From now on we promise to see each other more often, like good friends!” The words roll from your mouth carelessly, even if you are serious about it. You feel Sae tightening your grip on your pinkie at the ‘good friends’ part but you don’t give it much importance.
“Are you next week?”
“Yes, I am now that exams ended! Do you have something in mind?” You ask a bit too excited.
“My manager told me to participate in a cooking video or something along those lines. He said it would be good for my image and they pay a lot, but-“
“You hate not being prepared, right?” You interrupt “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you a mouth-watering recipe!” And you compliment yourself for being really smooth when your hand, linked to his just by your pinkie, perfectly slides to hold it, palm to palm but not bold enough to intertwine fingers. Sae doesn’t jerk away from your touch if anything holding your hand tighter before nodding at your words. He holds your gaze and just then you notice how close his face is to yours, how there is just a whiff separating your lips…
“It’s time for the toasts! Everyone come!!” The shout of one of Sae's teammates awakes you both from the moment separating you two as quickly as you got near to each other. You don’t talk much to each other the rest of the night and you decide not to overthink what just happened, you probably drank too much and he probably was too tired to tell you to step back. For sure beach liked to play tricks on you.
Obviously, not overthinking was easier said than done, even with a pounding headache your mind started to wander and it only got worse when Sae texted his free day, to which you replied with a thumbs up. You aren’t worried about the recipe to make him cook, you have done it countless times and your mother sent you the right ingredients not so long ago. You are worried because maybe you are harboring feelings for him and you’d hate to tell him he was right all along. You can already see his smile, going from one ear to the other; you can accept being rejected, but not being made fun of.
Thankfully Lady Luck is on your side the day you finally meet up, but in a wicked way, making the chain of your bike drop something you had never to deal with. So when you hear the bell ringing your mind goes in tilt not being able to choose if panicking for your bike or for the guy in front of your door.
“Hi Sae.” You whisper out, leaning on your door.
“You are dirty.”
“Is this some new kind of dirty talking-“ He pushes you to the side, entering the house.
“So what happened? You look like a flea that just swam in petroleum.”
“You are always so delicate Sae.” You slump your shoulders before explaining what happened “I tried to watch a video to fix it myself but it was no use.”
“I can help, where is the bike?” You look up, hope shining in your eyes.
“Oh the garage is the first left door at the end of the corridor, but are you sure-“ Sae already walked away, the squeak of the garage door telling you he got the right door.
When you reach him he is already on his knees, fingers deftly working to put the greasy chain in its place.
“Done.” He flips the bike as easily as you’d flip a pancake, not even a sneer of fatigue appears. “Anything else?” You are shocked by how fast he fixed it.
“Aren’t you the one that doesn’t know anything other than football?”
“Yeah, but I had a childhood too. My little brother always messed it up. Do you have anything to wash the grease off?” You nod wanting the clean yourself up too.
“Now that we are all cleaned up, let’s cook! Today I want to teach you how to make tortellini, a type of stuffed pasta, have you ever heard of it?” The red hair waves his head left and right, you see curiosity in his eyes and it makes something bubble in you. “I have already done the filling, it’s easy to make later I’ll tell you the ingredients, but now let’s focus on the dough. As you can see I did a little fountain with the flour and we will have to put the yolks and the eggs white inside, like this-“ You show it to him, his teal eyes still fixed on your movements “Now grab a fork and start to mix, not everything together, just a bit and then always more until you can start to knead with your hands.” This is the worst part, the dough is hard and you need a lot of strength to mix it to perfection. “Wanna give me a hand?” You gasp already tired. He nods, but you didn’t expect him to help in this way.
His right hand locks with yours, the other already at the bottom of the dough, and his chest is impossibly close to your back. You feel his chin on top of your shoulder, his breath hitting your neck.
It’s intimate, too intimate for your standards.
“H-Hey thanks but you don’t need to hug the chef to do it, you know?” You chuckle awkwardly, trying to move your head far from his, but his body caging you doesn’t let you move far.
“Mh? Sorry I thought it could work better. Feeling how your fingers work on the dough and everything.” It sounds like a poor excuse even for your ears, but you brush it off his arms not blocking you anymore; probably he just needed affection or something like that.
You move to the side, watching him knead, but your eyes soon travel up, to his face noticing a new detail…
“You have freckles?”
“I get them when I tan, I hate them.” The corner of his plush lips turn downwards, his hands working harsher on the dough.
“Why? They make you more human.”
“What are you saying? That I’m a cyborg?” He stops, green irises gazing straight into yours.
“I’m saying that looking ‘imperfect’ makes you more beautiful Sae.” You say it as a universal truth, your voice doesn’t waver, and your eyes don’t either. This time it’s he who has to break the eye contact, you see him biting his inner cheek.
“So now?” He points at the dough.
“Now we have to roll it out. We should use a rolling pin, but it is too much of a pain so we’ll use another device-”
“No, let me do the old way. I’m not a weakling like you.” His voice drips of malice and the urge to knock his head with the rolling pin is harder than ever.
“Okay then, use it. I’m curious to see how you’ll handle it.” Sae takes it from your hand and tries to use it. The shape wouldn’t even be bad if it wasn’t so poorly distributed, some places thin others awfully thick, plus you can see he isn’t using the right muscles, making him more sore than he should be.
“You are terrible, can’t you see it all has different thickness? Move let me show you how to do it.” You push him away, no real force In your movement but he moves away, giving you the rolling pin with a provocative demeanor. “We say you have to make love with the dough, use your hips like this and you won’t have to use all your arm strength. Now do it.” You give the utensil back, Sae nods eyes filled with concentration.
Too bad he keeps making the same mistake. You click your tongue “Sae, do I have to teach you how to make love?” You snicker when he sides-eye you.
“Okay mister icicle, let me show you again how to do that.” Your hands lay on his hips but you look at his face to understand if you crossed any boundary, but he doesn’t say anything, to say the truth he doesn’t even look at you, so you take it as consent. “Instead of using just your arm strength, help yourself with a push of the hips like this-“ You move it synched with his hands twice, before letting go of the hold you have on him. “Yeah, that’s exactly how you should do it!” You notice Sae smiling, it lasts very little but it is there and you feel really proud of his work.
Then you teach him how much filling is needed inside and how to close them up.
“I can’t do it, my fingers are too chubby, see?” The half-made tortellino’s dough tears in his hands that are, in fact, a bit too chubby to deftly close it.
“Hey, don’t trash it away! You can’t fix it but you can always have…an early taste.” You reply, winking at him.
“But won’t it be dangerous? The filling is cooked, but the pasta-“
“I swear you won’t die superstar, I’ve done it countless times and I’m as healthy as you are.” You say smacking his shoulder, but by the look, the redhair isn’t fully convinced. “C’mon try it!” You spur him like a granny urging her nephew to eat her home-cooked meal.
The shine in Sae’s eyes after the bit of food hit his tastebuds is a telltale sign that you really nailed the recipe. Not that you had any doubt to start with.
You finish closing them up and invite him for dinner telling him that Elisa is out so she won’t mind. Sae refuses your offer, his manager needs to see him so they’ll dine together.
“Well at least bring back home a bag of these!”
“Won’t you die of starvation?”
“Don’t act stupid, I won’t give you them all, I’m not that nice!” You prepare two servings “In case you want to share a meal with a special guest.” He replies with a huff, but you don’t care, knowing well how he can be.
“See you soon Sae.”
“If that raw pasta will kill me my lawyer will bang at your door.” He replies already out and walking towards the driver he called before.
“Don’t be overdramatic, it doesn’t suit you, ice man.” He smiles back at you behind the window of his car but you can’t see him since it is tinted.
From that day you don’t hear him until the famous cooking video he told you about appear on your screen. Obviously, they made him cook something way easier, too bad he had a blindfold on and his teammate had to tell him what to do.
“I hope your teamwork works better on the football field.” You text him, a winking emoji at the end.
His answer doesn’t long in coming “Worry more about your exams.” It hurts you more than being run over by a car.
3 months before
“Sae can you pick me up?”
“Did something happen?”
“Nothing that bad, but could you?”
“Send me your position, I’m coming.”
“Thanks” You sniff.
You are not used to crying, or better, you are not used anymore. Years of university thickened your skin enough to be able to deal with most wounds.
Most, not all.
You studied hard for this exam, it was one of the few ones you had to do to finally get your degree, one step closer to reaching your dream. But you failed it, and now you’ll have to wait months before being able to take it again. You didn’t meet with anybody, barely talked with Elisa, and you share a bedroom with her, skipped meals to be sure not to lose time, and repeated the paragraphs till your voice gave out.
All of this for a fist of nothing.
You cried and gasped the moment you were far enough from the classroom. Weakness isn’t accepted and pity is a sign you won’t survive long in this world; this is what you’ve been taught. You forgot how shit you could feel while crying, how lonely you are. You wanted to call your parents, they have always been good at reassuring you, but then Sae's name was the first contact to appear and you clicked without thinking twice.
Maybe harsh love is what you need.
You regret your choice the second you hear the first thrill. He must be training, maybe he is in the sweet company of someone, you can already hear his ice-cold voice snapping at you for bothering him. But you don’t have the time to close the call, Sae picked it up and was coming to help.
You recognize the car, it was the same one that picked him up when he went back home from his house, but this time he is the one driving.
“Come in.”
You sit on the soft leather. While you waited for him you tried to dry up your tears to improve your current condition, but to no avail; eyes still red and puffy and some tears still escaping.
“Are you bri-bringing me home?” You brokenly say between gasps.
“No. What happened?” Sae’s eyes stay fixed on the road, raindrops fall on the windshield, ironic how the weather matches your mood.
He snaps his fingers in front of you, bringing you back to earth so you start to tell him what happened.
“I know I must sound so-so dumb but-“ Gasps keep interrupting you “I feel like a failure. Maybe I am.” You look at him, your vision is foggy due to the new tears, but this time he looks back at you. You didn’t even notice he stopped the car, now off the road.
But what it comes to surprise you. No harsh words, no sarcasm.
Sae hugs you, hands patting your back.
“Everyone fails, even cyborg guys like me. Everything can be fixed and a little misstep on the road doesn’t define you as a person.” He pulls away, face relaxed, and goes back to driving.
“One hamburger and a chips portion.”
Were you parked in a fast-food lot? You were so out of your mind and outside is so dark that you didn’t notice. You have been silent, still recovering from the hug and those words that sounded so encouraging and not like Sae at all.
“Why the chips? You don’t like them.” It’s the first thing you are able to blabber, at least you didn’t stutter anymore.
“This isn’t for me. It’s for you.” The redhair says putting the paper bag on your legs “Junk food can be nice once in a while. And stop crying-“ the back of his curled index finger swipes away a lone tear running down your face “I hate looking at ugly stuff and tears reduce you to a really ugly mess.”
Ah, the old Sae is back. You can finally recognize him, with all his rude comments. But something inside you blossoms while he drives you back home and you bite into your hamburger.
Does it mean he finds you beautiful every other time? You feel blood running to your face for a minute you hear a whistle in your ears, but you impose yourself not to bash your head around it. Now you have to find a nice way to explain the situation to Elisa without making her worried sick and hide who brang you home to avoid her dumb smile and endless teasing that would come your way. You look outside the car window, mind already wandering somewhere else.
In the end, Elisa discovered everything, for sure Sae insisting on bringing you inside crumbled to pieces your plan, and your mood was too devasted to be able to efficiently hide your feelings. At least your attention wasn’t on the football star anymore.
Your mind already planned to think about them for the next weeks anyway.
Today. Night
“I suppose the date didn’t go as planned.” Sae doesn’t move, no intention of shielding your body under the umbrella.
“No, but it was my fault.” ‘Because I’m in love with you’ you add in your brain. “You want to know what happened?”
“Not really.”
“Bad for you because I’ll tell you anyway.” You joke between gasps. Sae doesn’t move away but he keeps looking down on you. “He was so nice, he took me to the restaurant and even wanted to pay. The small talk was incredible and we have a lot in common-“ You look down, not able to keep his gaze “But my heart is for someone who considers me barely a friend-“ Your hands now cover your face “And then when I arrived here to cry in peace a couple walked in front of me being all cute and I crumbled.”
“It could have been us.”
“Umh?” You can finally gaze back into his eyes, liquid fury while looking down at you.
“Who is the guy you have a crush for? The loser-“
“It’s you. You are the loser.” Your brain still struggles to phantom what is happening. You were freezing cold a few minutes ago, you couldn’t feel the apex of your fingers, but now you don’t feel anything.
But something inside Sae’s mind clicked before yours, the umbrella waving left and right, the grip on it clearly loosened.
“You are an imbecile.” His words are sharp knives on your body, but you can’t grasp in pain because something is pressing on your lips.
Sae is kissing you, his cold hands gripping you by the collar of your dress to keep you close, raindrops fall down from his cheeks to yours, the umbrella is left abandoned in a bush, the wind tearing it apart.
“For how long?” He pulls you up from the bench, his right hand gripping yours while the left one is on your back.
“The exam fail.” You whisper almost in a trance “And you?”
“Let’s go home-“ He starts to run out from the park, calling for a cab to bring you both to, you suppose, your house. You notice him looking around, probably searching for a place to shield your bodies from the rain; not that you have much to protect anymore both wet from head to toe.
“It has been longer...Sae! That’s why you have always teased me.” You finally laugh shivers of cold and joy running down your back. “Sae!” You shout stopping in your tracks. Sae turns back but doesn’t have time to snap at you, this time it’s you kissing him. Your hands go to caress his cheeks, one hand sliding a bit back to scratch the back of his neck. You probably nailed the right point, because you hear him moan into your mouth. His hands slide lower caressing your waist to your hips, but never brave enough to go to your backside.
Or better, when you feel him sliding closer…
“Mister Itoshi, come in the car!” his driver came to pick you up, using the horn two times to announce his presence.
Sae looks at him, gnashing his teeth before looking back at you, his expression getting softer again. “Let’s go” he kisses you in between your eyebrows before pulling you towards his car.
“Okay, but you’ll have to tell me when you fell in love with me.” You feel the hold on your hands tightening, no need to look at his face to understand what’s going on in his head.
Maybe he’ll kiss you dumb to make you forget about that. Maybe he’ll be brave enough to propose showering together…your mind starts to daydream, maybe he won’t have the courage and you’ll have to take the reins, but one thing is sure.
You’ll both be happy.
#bllk x reader#blue lock x reader#bllk imagines#blue lock imagines#itoshi sae#sae x reader#sae itoshi x reader#bllk x you#blue lock x you
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Sweat for me ||kmg||
Summary- Mingyu's hot. You're hot. Surely a night alone at the gym, sweating and panting together, would sit with you just fine, right?
Mingyu's body is undeniably sculpted. Everyone knew that. What they didn't know, however, is that his impressive physique was all thanks to you- his workout partner. Had it not been for you, he would've lost all his motivation to hit the gym in the first place. After all, who doesn't want to get hot and sweaty with a pretty girl like yourself?
For over a year now, you and him had met up almost every day at 9 am sharp, outside your company-provided dorm. He'd have his car parked in front of your building, waiting outside your door as you invited him in for a quick protein shake. You'd chat over 'breakfast' for a bit, gossiping about the employees and your co-workers, sometimes even indulging in a bit of harmless flirting as you spoke. (not harmless, you had fallen hopelessly in love with him)
Today wasn't going to be any different, you thought. That was, of course, until your phone rang beside you, lighting up with his contact name instantly.
"hello?"
"hey," he breathed, his tone somewhat troubled.
"what's wrong gyu? "
You were worried. He never called at night. Hell, as idols that's when you worked the most- practicing in the dance studio or in the recording room until you saw the sun creeping up around you and finally decided to head back home.
"nothing I just- I need a distraction and I was wondering if you wanted to workout"
"hm? yeah okay I'm in the studio right now, I'll be up in ten," you sighed "tell me what happened?"
"yeah," he whispered. "I'll tell you"
Hanging up, you gathered your things, shoving your notepad and pens into your bag as you headed to your locker. Luckily, you had a spare set of gym clothes which you changed into quickly, mind running over all the possibilities as to what could've gone so wrong to have Mingyu this upset. Either way, you were on your way to see him, hair tied into a neat high ponytail, in your white gym set- a sports bra and some biker shorts that hugged you in all the right places.
Trembling slightly, you opened the glass door to the gym, unsure why you felt this shaky. You'd met him a million times before.
Fuck it was just Mingyu. The guy who eats all your food and picks you up every morning. The guy who whines about how tired he is and how his body aches from all that dancing. The guy who eyes you up and down wordlessly whenever he sees you, tensing his jaw as if to contain something.
Hold on- what?
It was late. Too late for any other Hybe artist to be working out at the gym. Too late for your trainer to oversee your progress. Too late for you and Mingyu to be alone like this.
He spotted you right away, eyes lighting up instantly.
"you came" he said, his voice so gentle it made you weak.
"you called," you whispered under your breath, but he seemed to have caught what you said. You noticed this and instantly moved to cover up any traces of what you said.
"let's uh, let's get down to business, shall we?" your voice filled the suspiciously short silence, "what's the matter gyu?"
He let out an airy laugh, sounding almost exasperated.
"my stupid manager's on my ass again about posting on Instagram."
You let him continue, nodding along as you guided him to sit on one of the benches behind.
"he wants me to post, for the lack of a better word, sluttier pics. like abs and arms and all. apparently, the fans love it and we kinda need to do well with this comeback. he's even considering having me go shirtless- completely on display in the upcoming music video." He sounded tired. So tired.
"he's really throwing you out to the wolves, huh," you patted his thigh sympathetically, "I get how that could make you uncomfortable... it really sucks how people treat you like something to be ogled at just because you're hot"
You pause. He quirks a brow.
"I mean uh, because they think you're hot" you blurt, internally cursing yourself for opening your stupid mouth.
He's quiet for a second before a slight smile plays at his lips- god his lips are gorgeous.
"what about you," he leans into your face, just inches away, "do you think I'm hot?"
"what? yes- I mean no- I mean yeah? no." you stutter, "uh, not rea-"
His laughter cuts you off, and you want nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole.
"cute" he mutters, "do you wanna get started? I'm not upset anymore but there's so much... pent-up energy, you know?"
His tone takes on a sultry note as he says that last bit, and you take a sharp breath in. You agree wordlessly and head over to stretch.
"I'm already done cause I just got done with dance rehearsals, but I can help stretch you out, hm?"
You freeze momentarily, unsure of what you'd just heard. God your mind was taking a filthy, filthy turn.
Mingyu isn't stupid. He's aware of what his words mean. But seeing you all flustered gets him so riled up, he can't help it.
"y-yeah, you can help me stretch gyu"
Cringing at how you stuttered, you grab a yoga mat and unfurl it onto the wooden floor.
"let's maybe try something new today, yeah?"
He stands behind you, arms resting on your hips, as he pushes your thighs back- straightening them against his own.
"try to touch the mat" he says gently, one hand leaving your thigh to place light pressure on your back.
You thanked your lucky stars you were flexible, cause the lower you went, the more your ass pushed into his groin. He didn't seem to mind it either, with the way he kept pushing, till your palms touched the spongy surface of the mat.
Trying to stand up, you were met with a firm hand holding you in place. A surprised 'hm?' leaves your lips, and he grins at you, the handsome devil.
"hold" he whispered, staring at your perfectly bent form in the mirror up ahead. This position looked unnecessarily sexual- like he was taking you from behind, for all the world to see. You thanked the universe for leaving the gym empty, and wordlessly stayed in place, pushing yourself closer into him.
"10, 9, 8..." he counted, going painfully slow, gritting his teeth.
"...3, 2..."
You waited eagerly for the last number, thighs tensing under his touch, tightening with the stretch, but it never came.
"mingyu-" you start, but it comes out a little more strained and desperate than usual. Your face goes red.
"what was that?"
You kept your mouth shut, not trusting your vocal chords to hold their own in this... sticky situation.
"we're done, I think you're good, you seem uh, flexible enough"
Your head spins as he lifts you back up, pressing your back flush against his chest. His breath tickles the top of your ear- oh my god he's teasing you.
Not wanting to give in so easily, you stepped away and grinned at him.
"what's first on the list?"
"bench press," he says.
"yes sir," you smile, dropping in the honorific to test the waters.
And boy, oh boy are they tested.
Mingyu feels his cock twitch at your words, the length pushing against his boxers ready for action. Clenching his jaw, he follows you to the bench, lying down on the cool black leather after setting his weights on either side. He lifted heavy. That was for sure. You could barely deadlift what he pressed, but the variation in strength turned you on in a way you couldn't even comprehend.
"don't let me die" he usually says, before he starts his set, but tonight, his words are a little different.
"you'll kill me if you keep staring like that"
That alone is enough to snap you out of your trance, and you realize that you've been staring daggers into him, thinking about how strong he is.
"like what?" you grin, steadying yourself behind him.
He huffs, glaring up at you, and starts lifting the bar up above his head.
Your eyes are trained on him, ready to offer support when he's at his limit. The first few movements come easy to him, and you begin to wonder if he's already ready to press even more. His arms tense deliciously under the weight of the bar, and you observe his veins popping out along his forearm and on the back of his hand. Damn him and those beautiful, thick arms.
You couldn't help but notice his fingers too- how thick and long they were, how they curled around the bar so easily, how they'd fill you up so good if you just let him.
Licking your lips, you gaze back down at him.
He groans as he pushes the bar up, arms tensing even more now. The sound he makes is undeniably sexy. From the back of his throat, from deep within his chest. You feel your panties dampen in response and you swallow thickly, now somewhat nervous about the whole ordeal.
Fuck, you've barely even begun.
Another groan from him sends your mind ablaze with images of him hovering above you, holding his weight on those sturdy arms as he pounds into you relentlessly, making the same sounds he made just now. Your cheeks feel hot. Your body feels hot.
Fucking hell, he's hot.
Looking up at you, Mingyu seems to take notice of the way your face is already so flushed. He smirks, placing the bar back up, and lifts himself off of the seat.
"your turn, doll" he says, his voice breathy and low.
You're so taken aback by how quickly he's done, that you can barely process the pet name he's used. Sure, he calls you angel and darling and sweetheart and doll and everything under the sun on any normal day, and sure, they sent butterflies fluttering around your insides on any normal day, but this- this for some reason made its way straight down to your pussy.
Your core ached for him.
"huh? my turn? yeah my, my turn"
He stifled a laugh and brought your weights over, replacing his own.
"thanks gyu"
"alright, bring it up," he instructed, staring down at you.
Your arms gave out after the eleventh circuit, and you let out a forced breath, alerting his attention.
"c'mon doll, gimme four more," he soothed, "you can do it, I know you can"
His hands hovered under your aching elbows, as he applied the tiniest bit of pressure to help you.
"mingyu I can't-" you whimpered, "it's too much"
His eyes flashed over with desire before he caught himself and shook his head sternly.
"I've got you, okay? Just a bit more"
You whimpered your way through the last three, and by the end of it, you could barely feel your arms.
The gym was still empty, save for the two of you. The staff had left, and the idols were either lost in dance rehearsals or at home. You had the place all to yourselves. That, coupled with the fact that it was painfully clear that you and he both desired each other, made it hard for you to prevent yourself from soaking through your panties.
Mingyu did two more rounds, which you continued to assist, and you worked on glutes after.
He happened to notice that your posture was off when you were squatting- probably because of how sore your arms were, and without hesitating, his hands made their way once more to your hips.
"what are you-"
"you can go lower, can't you?" he rasped, his grip firm as ever, "and you can keep that back straight too."
You nodded, barely suppressing the whimper that threatened to spill out of your mouth.
"as pretty as it looks arched, I'd rather you didn't hurt yourself, hm?"
You were at your limit. Your mind went blank, and the dampness between your legs spread to your inner thighs. Praying that it wouldn't show through your white bottoms, you squatted down again, with his hands on you, hips following wherever he guided them.
"there we go" he whispered, dangerously close to your neck.
Your body shuddered, goosebumps trailing along all over your skin, and finally, finally, he seemed to acknowledge your state.
"are you cold?" he teased, knowing damn well you were boiling away inside.
You shook your head and stepped away, letting his touch linger on your waist for a second too long.
Eyes burning with red-hot desire, Mingyu stared you down in the mirror, watching your every move. The flush of your cheeks was a telltale sign of how flustered you were, and the goosebumps told him of the effect he had on you. The avoidant, wordless behaviour though, he was confused by.
He knew how he felt from the moment he saw you. Gorgeous as you were, you were fucking fiery too. That smart mouth of yours has kept him up at night for god knows how long, and finally, he intended to do something about it. Your feelings for him grew clear as day over time, and he made it his goal to worship you. But tonight, you seemed so... hesitant. It took him by surprise. Almost as if he was expecting you to crumble and give in instantly.
"y/n,"
Your shoulders tensed as he called your name from across the room, nervousness painfully evident in your stance.
"was it too much?" he asked.
"no, I just- I'm just feeling kinda tense, is all"
You waved him off, turning away to turn off the lights as you left.
He stalked his way behind you, just as the room went dark, and placed his firm hands on your shoulders.
"this any better?" he asked, the low timbre of his voice vibrating along your ear and neck as he massaged soothing circles into the tight muscles of your back.
Fuck it felt good. So good.
"mhm," was all you could manage in response, as you bit back a moan- albeit unsuccessfully- when he pressed harder into your skin.
There you were, shrouded in darkness, sighing and moaning into the open air helplessly as his hands worked their magic into your back. They traveled up to your neck, soothing the spot right below where your hair ended, and instantly your hand shot up to your mouth, muffling a moan that you're sure he's heard.
His fingers halt for a second, and something snaps in him.
"don't you dare hide those pretty sounds from me"
Your pussy flutters at his words, clenching down again, unfortunately, around nothing.
"please-" you whimper, unable to hold yourself together any longer.
The arousal sopping through your shorts was unbearable. He turned you around to face him, his eyes darkening by the second. Unable to hold his gaze, you lower your head, opting instead to look at his chest.
"please?"
Hooking a long digit under your chin, he tilted your head up towards him once again. The sheer intensity of his stare left you aching for him. Need filled you like water, and your breathing turned shallow.
"what do you want, doll?" his voice is smooth and sultry.
A pathetic whimper leaves your lips, and the corners of his curl up into a teasing smirk. He knew what you wanted. Him. But god did he yearn to hear you say it.
"c'mon angel, where'd that smart mouth go? always fucking bossing me around, saying whatever you want, like nothing could ever faze you- but here we are. I've barely even touched you and you look this fucking spent already- jesus"
"I-" you started, chest heaving at his words, "fuck Mingyu please just- God please touch me"
He licks his lips, the same shit-eating grin plastered on that beautiful face of his, and tilts his head.
"there we go, sweetheart... all you had to do was ask,"
He inches closer, stepping forward tantalizingly slow- like he's teasing to see if you can hold out. With each step, your eyes gloss over with desire, with lust, and you want nothing more than to lunge at him and suck deep red marks all over his gorgeous physique.
You whine when he bends down, teasing you with a soft kiss on your nose, and another on the corner of your mouth. Just as you were ready to complain and demand that he kiss you straight, he slips a hand to cup the side of your face, thumb locked on your temple while the other digits secure themselves in your hair, and kisses you nice and slow.
You're frozen for a second, unable to process the gentle need in the way his lips moved against your own- so tender yet so deep, it could almost pass off as a confession of love. You don't let yourself get too wrapped up in the thought, trying not to get ahead of yourself. For all you knew, he was just horny and in need of a quick fuck.
"hey" his voice is soft, like he can hear your thoughts, and you want nothing more than for him to kiss you again.
"hi" you whisper, breathlessly.
"let's get you home, yeah?"
He pats your head, smoothing out the disheveled strands, and kisses your forehead. You're at a loss for words, once again, as his actions take you by surprise. You thought this would end with you and him fucking on one of the benches or on the floor, but he was taking you home?
"do you not want me?" your voice is small. It pulls at his heartstrings painfully so and his expression softens.
"I want you more than anything. I mean it. But not like this."
The slight furrow in your brows makes it easy for him to read your confusion, and he continues.
"I want to worship you. Properly. This is no place for that, don't you agree?"
This man isn't real. He can't be, come on. There's no way he looks that good, talks the way he does, AND wants to what- "worship" you? Your mind reels with the weight of his words, and for a second, you let yourself slip into the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he feels for you the way you do him.
Maybe, he's in love.
A year of 'friendship' will do that to a girl...
"gyu I-"
"let's talk at home, okay doll?"
You nod dumbly and let him lead you outside to his car.
You'd been in here a countless number of times, but now? With the faint glow of the moon on his sweaty skin and the desperation in his eyes, as he rushed to get you home, you're on top of the world.
His hand reaches over to squeeze your thigh when he sees it bounce up and down, reassuring you instantly to soothe that burning mind of yours. When you look over, you his side profile- illegally handsome, by the way- and sigh. 'This is nice' you think to yourself, letting go, letting yourself be loved however he shows it.
A few minutes pass, his hand leaves occasionally to change gears, but always finds its way back, inching higher and higher each time. Daringly you shift forward and his fingers graze the space between your legs, which earns a sharp groan on his end.
"I can feel it through your shorts goddamnit" he grits, sliding his fingers all over, cupping your pussy through the fabric.
He sucks in a deep breath, releasing it shakily, and mutters a quick "thank god" when he pulls into your apartment. He yanks his seatbelt off, running over to your side of the car, before opening your door and scooping you into his arms- bridal style.
You yelp, but he quickly silences it with a kiss, kicking the door closed as he clicks on the lock.
"put me down" you giggle, snuggling into his chest like a puppy does with its favorite human. He rolls his eyes and pulls you closer, protectively, and carries you into the elevator.
The familiar ding hits your ears and he steps out still carrying you- and walks over to your door.
"keys" he groans, "I need the keys"
"they're in my pocket"
"no problemo"
His hand slides from under your knee to the curve of your ass, feeling around for something sharp, unable to find any such object.
"they're not here"
"check again"
And his hand begins it's search, cupping and squeezing your ass, earning a short-breathed chuckle from you.
"doll, they're not-"
He stops when he sees the playful grin on your face as you dangle a set of keys in front of his eyes.
"naughty fucking girl you are" he scoffs, hoisting you up again as he unlocks the door.
You're in. Inside the house. At night. Alone with Mingyu.
Suddenly everything becomes real, and you look at him, smiling down at you softly.
"are you sure about this?" you ask him, meekly.
"hey, that's my line"
You laugh, smacking his chest and let him carry you to the bedroom. The fact that he already knew his way around made you blush, funnily enough. The familiarity made this feel like you were his and he was yours already.
He placed you on your bed, delicately like you were going to break if he wasn't careful. His eyes ran over your body shamelessly, but the look he adorned was that of pure adoration and awe. It made you nervous.
"you'll kill me if you keep staring like that," you say, teasing him slightly, recalling the comment he made at the gym.
"like what" he grins, and you feel a smile tug at your lips.
He kneels in front of the bed and slips off your sneakers one by one, deft fingers untying the intricate knots on the surface. As he slid them off he made sure to graze his fingertips against the sensitive skin of your ankle ever-so-slightly, leaving goosebumps in the path they traveled. Once they were off, he tossed them aside, looking intensely at you to gauge your emotions.
The breathlessness evident on your face was validation enough, and he continued.
Taking hold of one of your feet, he presses light, feathery kisses on your inner ankle, while his other hand reaches up to interlock your fingers with his. Relishing in the way your breath hitches when his lips connect with the neglected skin, he places one last soft kiss before crawling onto the bed, slowly, teasing you knowing damn well how badly you need him.
The movements are slow but intentional, each motion bringing him closer and closer, until he hovers over you, caging your body under his.
"god you're beautiful" he blurts, unable to control himself. You turn away bashfully, only to have your face tipped back towards his.
"don't hide," your expression softened at his words, "not from me, okay angel?"
A smile plays at your lips and you pull him in by the collar of his shirt, locking lips once again. He groans into your mouth as your hands roam the broad surface of his back, nails digging into the grooves of his sculpted muscles.
"fuck let's get this off, yeah?"
Slowly, fuck he's such a tease, he lifted your sports bra off, 'accidentally' running his thumbs over your nipples as he did.
Your body jolts at the sudden stimulation, pleasure running down your spine like electricity. The breaths you didn't realize you were taking for granted all this while suddenly seemed laborious under his touch, and your mouth slipped open to ease your lungs. Sweet, sweet oxygen. The burning in your lungs seems to cool for a second, and you sigh.
"gyu" you mumble, watching him toss the cloth aside.
His gaze, now back on you, falters when he sees your bare chest. Brows scrunching slightly in the middle, he takes in a shaky breath as his limbs carry him to you as if under some sort of spell.
"oh my god" he breathes, "oh my fucking god- you'll be the death of me"
Feverishly, his hands slide up your body, cupping your breasts in his large hands. He kneads them, climbing back on top of you to capture your lips in his once again. A soft moan escapes you when he tugs your lower lip, nipping at the tender flesh, quickly slipping his tongue into your mouth. He was a rapper. Obviously, he's good with that damn tongue of his. You hated how your core tightened from just kissing alone- fuck if he continued you'd probably cum right then and there, moaning into his mouth as he swallows up your sounds greedily.
"mmm fuck"
Your back arches when he moves his lips to your jaw, trailing kisses up to your ear before he whispers-
"what do you want from me"
"you know what I want from you"
"do I?" he teased, gently grazing his teeth along the shell of your ear.
You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, a dull thud sounding over and over, a familiar song you heard long ago. His lips press soft kisses where his teeth left off, and you could swear this was the end for you. Mingyu seemed so aware, so present in the moment, it made your heart swell. It's been a while since you felt this way, hell you aren't sure if you've ever felt this way...
"sweetheart?"
You look up at him, hovering above you as he holds his weight on those gorgeous arms of his.
"you alright?"
"m perfect," you slur, "feel so good right now"
"damn right you are- so fucking perfect for me"
He kisses you deeply, with passion, with hunger, and you whine louder than anticipated, turning red instantly. Your ears and cheeks heat up, embarrassment painted across your pretty face. Mingyu seems far too pleased with himself.
"oh, angel, don't- fuck you're so cute like this"
You shut your eyes tight and shake your head, still glaringly red. He sighs, lips curling at the corners.
The fucker was smirking.
"how about I stop teasing, hm? I think you've been good"
"mhm" you nod desperately.
"say it. use your words," his voice is assertive and low, dangerously so, "you've been a good girl for me so far, haven't you doll?"
A moan slips past your lips at his words, and you nod again, mind swiped of any other thought.
"I- fuck, I've been- good" you choke out, chest heaving even though he has yet to touch you.
"that's it, that's my girl"
The bed dips to the side, and you feel his weight leaving the mattress. Walking back to your feet, he kneels again, hooking his arms under your thighs to pull off the remaining athleisure. All you had left were white lace panties, a tiny, tiny, bit of fabric preserving your dignity. He groans at the sight- you had soaked through them completely, arousal coating your inner thighs.
"so fucking wet for me," he mumbles into your thigh, biting down to stifle a groan you suspect he'd been holding back for far too long.
"you like it that much when I call you that? when I call you a good girl?"
"please"
"please?" he echoes.
"please" you say, a little louder, desperation so evident the blind could see it.
Mingyu laughs, clearly pleased with the state you're in.
"so fucking pretty when you beg"
"mingy-oh my god-"
Without warning, he licks a stripe up your clothed sex, and the feeling sends you yearning for more right away. He eases your underwear off, shoving them into his back pocket, and dives right in.
No one has ever made you feel this way before. Not a fucking soul.
The way his lips cradled your sensitive bud, tongue flicking up and down- gentle, but firm- drove you insane. Your mouth hung open, sharp breaths leaving unevenly. His tongue felt fucking electric. Like he knew your body better than you did yourself. A couple minutes in and you can already feel an orgasm building deep in your stomach, a wave of heat ready to crash.
"m-more," you stutter, "please"
"would this be okay?" he asks innocently, detaching himself for a second to show you his thick, veiny hands.
Before you can agree, he slips a digit into you, tongue returning to your sensitive clit right away. His finger coils up inside you, reaching for the spot you'd like most.
It shouldn't surprise you how easily and quickly he finds it, pressing up immediately, but it does. A choked moan leaves your throat, the loudest one thus far, and your eyes shoot down to his in shock.
"how-"
"I know my way 'round here doll, I own this after all, don't I?"
His words are just enough to send you over the edge, and you tremble as he continues to finger you, helping you ride the wave till you stop spasming.
"so g- fuck you feel so good"
He slips his finger out, bringing it to his lips to lap up your juices. The sight of his tongue darting over his fingers has you whimpering pathetically, in need of something more already. Drinking in the sight of him on his knees for you, you soon realize something. His clothes were still on.
"wanna see you" you mumble, "please"
In a swift motion, his shirt's off and his toned torso is on complete display. The deep divots of his abs have you drooling and you find yourself wanting to bite into them and claim him as your own.
"so you do think I'm hot" he smirks as he gauges your reaction.
"get over yourself ugh"
"not when I've got a fucking goddess in bed with me"
"shut up" you roll your eyes. His eyes narrow at you, slight aggression in his tone-
"yeah, I'm gonna have to fuck that attitude out of you. right fucking now."
You reach out to feel his abs but he smacks your hand away, smirking slyly. He runs his hand down his chiseled body, and god you wish those were your hands touching him. The upward quirk of his lips told you that he knew how badly you wanted to touch him. He knew the effect his body had on you.
"can't touch me yet baby," he smirked lazily, "gotta earn it- gotta prove to me how good you can be, hm? gotta take this thick fucking cock like a good little slut- you can do that for me, can't you doll?"
You whimpered, spreading your legs for him greedily and he moans at the sight. Your sopping folds were on display, only for him to see. All of you was on display only for him to see.
"that's it- so fucking needy" He shoved off his sweats.
Breathing heavily, he crawled over you, slow like an animal stalking his prey. The tip of his cock peeked out of his boxers and your mouth watered at the sight, waiting eagerly to see it in all its glory.
He laughed dryly at your reaction. He found you so damn cute. All needy and cock drunk for him. Him alone.
His boxers were soon pushed off, hardened cock springing free right away.
Shit.
He was huge. Thick and veiny and long- fuck so long he'd be able to kiss your cervix right away. Unable to tear your gaze away from it, you bit your lip in anticipation, a mixture of fear and excitement flashing through your bright eyes.
"h- you're so big," you whispered, "so fucking big-"
He grins, sadistically almost.
"that pretty pussy of yours will make room for me though, won't it?" You gasp. Of course, it will, fuck you'd do anything for him. Anything.
"anything for you- anything to feel you in me"
Those words of yours seem to be it for him, and he holds his cock in his hand, slapping it against your clit so you feel his weight.
"this?" he prods, "you want this in you angel?"
Yes. God yes. Your body screams, aches for him. You fucking need this. You need him. Your mind clouds with lust, and you chant his name like a prayer. How badly you needed him- needed his cock to fill you up real good. Fuck if he would just get on with it and stop teasing already, you were so wet for him.
Your prayers are answered, when you feel his tip slide in, slowly, stretching you out in a way no man ever has before. Your pussy tightens as he fills you so deliciously. Locking your eyes onto the way he slid into your pussy, you moaned when you realized that he wasn't even halfway in yet. How you were going to accommodate for his sheer size was beyond you, but god did you feel good with every inch he sunk further.
"min-gy- oh my god" you shuddered, already feeling your stomach tighten when all he'd done was ease himself into you.
"fuck I'm not even all the way in yet" he groans at the way you clench around him.
"please-" Your voice is hoarse and loud.
You grab onto his arm, digging your nails into the hard flesh. Those were leaving marks, for sure.
"more, gyu please"
"fuck," he shivered, bottoming out right away as your back arched under him, "two taps on my thigh if you want me to stop, okay?"
You nod, squirming under him as he starts to move. His thrusts are slower than you expected, but god are they powerful. You'd always expected him to be a hard and fast kind of guy but evidently, he likes to take his fucking time. The bed shook with each thrust, quivering under him just the way you were. The thick, hard vein running along the underside of his cock rubs against your walls so good, you feel your eyes glass over.
"cock's so good it has you crying? hm?" he grunts out, thrusting upward into you, as he leans back into you for a kiss.
His eyes fluttered shut as your lips connected, and he licked at the seam of your mouth for entrance. Glad to oblige, you open up, a moan slipping out before he muffles it with his tongue. He explored the hollow of your mouth, trailing over your tongue like a man starved. You'd stopped breathing for a bit, completely captured by the way he flooded your senses.
His mouth was on your own, dick still thrusting away inside you, chest heaving against yours- he was everywhere.
A hand made its way down to your clit, thumbing tight circles into the oversensitive nub. You moaned, your own hand chasing his to hold his wrist in place. He let out a shallow groan, feeling the way you clamped down around him right away.
"fuck" he rasped, "that's- fuck you're good, so good for me angel" His hips stuttered, cock twitching inside you, and your walls tightened further, ready for release.
"ca-n I cum," you begged, tears pricking at your eyes as his gaze locked onto you, "please gyu"
"cum on my cock doll, fuck, I'm so close- so close you feel so fucking good"
You squeeze him, coming undone at his words, moans dripping past your lips uncontrollably as your back arched- spine tingling from the pleasure.
He followed soon after, pulling out just as he came, hot white ropes shooting out over your stomach. The noises he made were borderline pornographic- the most perfect, erotic groans you'd ever heard, and you could've sworn you heard him whimper just after he pulled out. His body slumped beside yours, arm draped around your waist.
A minute passed in silence. All you could hear was his steadying breath as he tried to regain his composure. You sighed, holding onto the arm around you.
"fuck"
"fuck," he echoed, sighing satisfactorily "c'mere let's get you cleaned up angel"
Gently, he scooped you up in his arms, carrying you so tenderly you could melt. He made his way over to the bathroom, setting you down at the side of the tub as he ran you a bath. While the tub took its time filling up, Mingyu snagged a soft hand towel from your rack and ran it under the tap before wiping you down with the warm cloth. His actions were wordless, save for a few compliments he threw your way seeing how you shone under his touch.
His eyes, however, spoke a language of their own, the string connecting your gaze and his staying taut constantly.
'I love you.' they seemed to be saying, louder and louder despite his silence. There was a desperation in those eyes you couldn't seem to place. A longing.
Your bath was ready. Mingyu shut off the water, and eased you in, feeling how you relaxed in its warmth. He smiled softly, getting in with you right away. You could get used to this... How tenderly he held you against his chest, rubbing soothing circles into your back and shoulders. It almost made you feel special. Almost.
You still couldn't seem to shake the thought that this was a one-night-only affair. That he wasn't in love the way you were. That he would leave.
"y/n" he said, "there's something I'd like to ask you"
"go ahead 'm listening gyu"
"how do you feel-" he started, hesitating when your shoulders tensed, "how do you feel about me?"
"I-"
The words wouldn't come out.
'I love you. I've loved you for so long. I want to be yours Mingyu, I want to fall asleep with you every night and wake up with you every morning. I want to hold your hand and know that this is real- that it's you and me against the world. I want you. To be touched by you, to be loved by you.'
Your throat closed up and the tears you didn't realize you were holding back rolled down your cheeks. Alarmed, Mingyu cupped your face quickly, thumbs swiping away the tears.
"I'm sorry- fuck I'm so sorry this is too soon isn't it?" his panicked, almost guilty voice rang in your ears. "I shouldn't have assumed you felt the same, I'm so sorry y/n"
Wait what?
"you- but I- what?"
The tears had stopped. Your eyes were fixed on his guilty ones.
"I assumed you liked me too"
"too?"
"yes, too. I've liked you since forever- I thought you knew 'cause of how obvious I made it"
"too?" You were dumbfounded. Your mouth felt dry. Your heart thudded against the confines of your ribs. Your lips crashed into his, desperately, passionately.
Taken aback by the sudden kiss, a surprised gasp left Mingyu's lips.
"I like you too, idiot, love you, even" you mumbled against his lips, before he pulled you in once again for a longer, deeper kiss, just like the one you first shared.
Your breaths enmeshed, becoming one, hands holding onto one another desperately. The steady thud in your chest matched his own and you knew this was real.
"I love you more," his eyes shine with such devotion and awe, you feel the air knocked out of your lungs.
You run a finger along his defined chest, earning a shiver in response, and whisper;
"show me, then,"
A sly smile quirks up his lips and he lowers his head into the crook of your neck.
"only if you say please"
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Heavy Heads and Heavy Hearts | Quinn Hughes
Summary: Quinn gets injured as a game. His girlfriend takes him and cares for him.
Pairings: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Anxiety, Head injury, food, angst, mentions of vomiting (no actual vomiting)
Notes: Hi guyss! Hope everyone is doing ok! Injured Quinn got the most votes, so here we are! This one is the longest one ive done so far, I definitely did not mean for it to be as long as it is but here we are. Also, im not a professionl in any way, so i cant say this is concussion accurate. I just went off of my experience in dealing with athletes that have Concussions, and my own Concussions lol. Anywaysss I hope yall enjoy. Love Soph.
---
There was something so gut-wrenching about watching the man you love get injured. One second, Quinn was cutting quickly around the back of the net, and the next, he was getting slammed into the boards hard. It was nothing. You get hit, you get up, and you keep going. It was simply a part of hockey.
Except this time, Quinn wasn't getting up. He wasn't moving at all. You stand up, heart in your throat. The room feels like it's tilting. The sharp shrill of the refs whistle cut through the air, stopping the play as the refs skate over to where Quinn is lying motionless on the ice.
They are calling for medics. Your head is spinning with the worst possible scenarios as you excuse yourself from your seat and practically sprint to the locker room. One of the security members holds out a hand to stop you.
"Ma'am, you can't be here, please exit this area"
Great. Just fucking great. This is exactly what you need right now. The overwhelming need that aches in your bones demanding to know that Quinn is ok makes you want to cry. Because now this fucker won't let you through. And you're nearly too panicked to do anything about it.
The logical route would be pulling out Quinns wallet, that has his ID in it, and explaining that you are his girlfriend. But with your anxiety high, and your heart in your throat logic is not the first thing on your mind.
"Listen buddy," you start, ready to absolutely rip this guy a new one. Thankfully for him, one of the trainers who knows you happens to be exiting the locker room.
"Let her through, Jace, that's Hughes' girl" he says, waving you forward. The security guard- Jace apparently, lets you pass with a grumble.
By the time you get rink side, Quinn is (half) conscious- thank God, and being half carried off the ice by Petey and Boeser. He's transfered to the care of two medics, who sit him on a bench and begin to check him over.
One of them is asking him questions gently, both to keep him awake and assess the damage to his head. While the other stabilizes his neck. "Can you tell me your full name and today's date?" One of the medics asks.
"Quintin Jerome Hughes," he slurs, eyes fluttering, "its Feb'uary... twenty-second, twenty-twenty-four"
Your breath hitches. He got the date wrong. You can't help the panic that rushes through you. "Good job Quinn, do you know where you are?"
"Van, Roger's arena," he mumbles, "playing hockey"
"Good," the medic hums. "we need to take off your equipment to make sure you aren't injured anywhere else. Is that ok?"
"Y/n" he mumbles, eyes closing and head tilting forward, his head snapped back up a moment later, and if the other medic hadn't had his head stabilized he would probably have mild whiplash.
"Stay awake for us, Quinn. Is Y/n someone you'd like us to call?"
You spring forward at the mention of your name, "I'm here," you say, pushing past a couple of people who are standing around, ready to assist if the situation gets worse.
"My girl" Quinn slurs, his lips tilting into a small smile. Your heart flutters at that. In the midst of his delirium, he still cares about you dearly.
"Hello Y/n, I'm Sam," the guy who's been asking him questions, "and that's Kieran," he says, nudging his head towards Kieran, who gives a small smile.
"Do you think you could help us remove his equipment?"
"Yes absolutely, just tell me what to do" you say, glad that you can help.
"Can you remove his jersey and shoulder pads? Kieran needs to keep his neck stable, and I need to check for any other possible injuries. And keep him talking"
"Yeah, of course," you start by bending his elbow to slide it out of the sleeve of his jersey.
"Hey Quinny" you say softly, sliding his other arm out of his jersey "you played really really good today, I'm so proud of you"
"Thanks baby," he murmers, "glad you're here." He tries to lean his head against your chest, he huffs when Kieran doesn't let him, and you can't help but let out a breathy laugh, patting his head lovingly.
Kieran tilts his head to one side, allowing you to pull the jersey over his head. You deposit it in his cubby behind him and make quick work undoing his shoulder pads and pulling them off gently.
"I'm glad I'm here too. What do you wanna eat when we get home?"
Sam gently asks you to move out of the way so he can check Quinns upper body for injuries. The second you aren't doing something, the anxiety rises back to your chest. You take a deep breath and begin to unlace his skates. You pull them off, slipping a pair of slides on his feet so his socks don't get wet.
"Hmm" he hums in thought "potatos...?"
You laugh, "Alright Quinny. We'll have potatos"
Finally after palpating his whole body to make sure he doesn't have any other major injuries, testing his reflexes, and asking him a bunch more questions. They diagnose him with a minor concussion, and give you a list of things to look out for.
They deem it safe enough to leave you alone with him for a little bit and tell you to change him into something more comfortable. It takes a bit of work to take off his hockey pants and shinguards and get him into a pair of sweats and a hoodie.
By the time you're done, the equipment manager and the medics have collected the rest of his equipment. After making sure his hockey bag is fully packed with everything, you grab his keys from your purse, while the EM helps you bring his bag to his car, and the medic helps you half carry him down.
He can mostly walk on his own, but better safe than sorry. On the ride home he keeps his head resting against the window, a cool compress is wrapped around his neck, and he's holding one over his eyes with one hand, while the other holds yours tightly.
You trace your thumb over the backs of his knuckles soothingly and keep him talking the whole way home. "What kind of potatoes do you want when we get home, Hon?"
"Can I change my mind?" He asks sheepishly. He's still talking very quietly and slurring his words a little, but the medics said that was nothing to worry about unless he started getting worse. So far, it was nothing to worry about.
"Of course my love, anything you want" you bring your intertwined hands to rest on your chest. It's a comforting weight over your heart, that you didn't know you needed until it was there.
Your phone lights up from the cup holder, it's a text from Petey, saying that the Canucks won the game. There are a few other texts, from his parents and brothers. You make a mental note to reply to them as soon as you get Quinn settled at home.
"Can we have noodles?" He mumbles.
"Yes, of course, love." You can't help but kiss the back of his knuckles. Watching Quinn get injured to the point of losing consciousness was not something you ever wanted to experience ever again.
"Your boys won, by the way," you say softly.
"The did?!" Quinns head shoots up front the window, and he is filled with instant regret as a sharp twinge shoots down his neck and to his shoulder.
"Ow fuck" he mumbles, laying his head back against the cool window.
"Careful love," you gasp, squeezing his hand.
"I know, I'm sorry," he mumbles, squeezing your hand back. You sigh, you have been on edge since he got injured, and it didn't look like the anxiety would dissipate for a while. You would just have to deal with it and try not to be an over bearing worry wart.
"You guys won 5-2" you smile, finally pulling into your apartment parking lot.
"I didn't do much except get my brains knocked around" he grumbles. "Some captain I am"
You scoff, flicking him in the nose lightly. "Don't sell yourself short, Quinny. Three of those points are yours."
Quinn wrinkles his nose and leans forward to bite your finger. You yelp, snatching it away with a glare. He sticks his tongue out at you, and you laugh, your chest feeling a little lighter than before.
"Come on, let's get you upstairs. " You say, undoing your seat belt and getting out of the car. You run around to his passenger side and open the door for him, and help him step out of the car. He throws an arm over your shoulder, and you wrap one around his waist. He's not as wobbly on his feet as he was earlier, but he still isn't at full strength.
Quinn squeezes his eyes shut and tucks his face against your hair. The florescent elevator lights were not pleasant in his state. "Can we keep the apartment lights off?" He mumbles against your hair.
"Sure love," you said rubbing your hand up and down his back soothingly, "we're almost home," you fish the keys out of your purse and unlock it. You toe your shoes off at the door while Quinn slips his off easily and you guide him to the couch.
"What do you want first, baby? Food or a shower?"
"I'm not really hungry" Quinn mumbles, laying on the couch and adjusting the ice pack under his neck. You sit on the couch handle, stroking his hair back from his forehead. "I know honey, but we should try to get something light in your system, if you're feeling upto it."
Quinn sighs. He knows you're right. "I can make you toast? Or a sandwich or something?" You offer, smoothing your thumb over his hairline.
"Do we have bagles?" He asks
"Yeah, we have bagles, I'll make you one of those?"
"Yes please," he mumbles, you plant a kiss on his forehead and go pop a bagle into the toaster, "can you do it with cream cheese and jam?" He asks, chewing on his lip nervously.
"Sure, Hon, I'm gonna make myself some tea. Do you want a cup?" You ask as you pull the cream cheese and jam out of the fridge.
"No thanks, I'm ok" he mumbles. After his bagle is done being made, you help ease him into sitting position, and sit next to him with your cup of tea. He eats a bit more than half the bagle, and you finish off the rest before deeming it time to shower.
You remember all the messages from his family, and quickly shoot them texts, saying that he's ok and you just got home and you'll talk more when he gets settled.
"I'm gonna put these back in the freezer while we shower, yeah?"
Quinn nods, handing the ice packs to you to put in the freezer. You help him up slowly and lead him to the bathroom. You keep the lights off and leave the door open so you have a little bit of light from the bedroom.
While the shower warms up, you grab a clean change of clothes for both you and Quinn and set them on the counter before helping Quinn strip. He has to brace an arm against the wall while you hold him steady with one hand and maneuver his clothes off with the other.
"I'm sorry," he murmers against your hair as you help him step into the shower.
"Oh Quinn, there's nothing to be sorry for," you say, sitting him on the shower seat.
"I'm sorry you have to take care of me like this." He huffs, resting his head against the cool Ike of the shower wall, "I feel so pathetic, " his voice cracks, and your heart nearly breaks.
"Quinn, my love, taking care of you is not a burden. It's a pleasure. I love you to the ends of the earth, and I would do anything for you, my sweets. " You kiss him on the forehead sweetly as if to prove your point.
He doesn't say much about it after that, but you can tell he still feels bad. You make quick work of washing his hair, being very careful of where a small bump has formed on his head. You scrub him down and rinse him off before shutting off the water.
You wrap a towel around yourself and then dry Quinn off gently before helping him change into his pajamas. "Let me change and then dry your hair a little bit before we have to put an ice pack on your head, ok?"
Quinn nods. He sits on the counter, leaning against the wall while you change into your pajamas. You plug in the hair dryer and dry his hair, keeping his head steady with one hand. As soon as his hair is no longer soaking wet, you help him off the bathroom counter and into bed. You grab the ice packs from the freezer and help him position them on his head and neck until he's comfortable.
"I'll be back in less than ten minutes, baby. I'm just going to grab your stuff from the car, ok?" You say pulling on a pair of sweats and a hoodie over your pajamas.
"Ok" Quinn mumbles, "I'll call if anything" he says patting his nightstand to make sure his phone is there.
You kiss him on the forehead and pull the bedroom door halfway closed so the light from the hall isn't too bright. Grabbing his car keys and your phone from the counter, you hit the call button on Ellen's contact as you slip out the door.
She picks up on the first ring "Hows he doing?" She asks immediately. She sounds distressed, maybe like she's been crying. You don't blame her. They probably haven't heard anything unless someone on the team contacted them, and you have no idea how bad it looked on TV.
"He's ok, Mrs. H, it's a mild concussion. His symptoms aren't worsening at all, and they said with some rest he'll be significantly better by tomorrow"
Her sigh of relief was unmatched. "He'll be out of play for a couple of weeks, but they just want to make sure he's back to 100% before he's playing again." The elevator finally opens, and you hit the button for the parking garage.
"Thank you so much, Y/n, im glad you're there with him. I know he's in good hands. I'll leave you be love, Jack and luke are super super anxious and would appreciate a call from you. Text me if anything happens."
"I will, Mrs. H, tell Mr. H I say hi"
"I will dear, thanks for taking care of our boy"
"Of course El, he's my boy too," you smile.
You swear you can hear Ellen smile over the phone. "We love you dear, I'll talk to you tomorrow ok. Don't forget to take care of yourself too"
"I will, I love you guys too. I'll text you updates"
"Alright, bye dear."
"Bye," you sigh, pressing the end call button, just as the elevator opens to the parking garage. As you press the button to open the trunk, you call Jack.
"Y/n," he huffs out, not even after a full ring. "How's Quinn? If he ok? What happened?" Before you can answer any of Jacks questions, Luke's voice cuts him off, "is Quinn ok? Are you guys at the hospital? It looked really bad -"
Before their panicked tangents can get worse, you interrupt them both. "Take a breath, you two," you say calmly, breathing exaggeratedly so they can copy you "in and out, relax. Quinn is ok. He's ok"
"He's ok?"
"He's ok" you repeat. You feel the tears start to build, and your voice cracks "He's ok"
"Oh Y/n." Jack says softly.
"It's ok, I'm ok" you say, more to yourself than to Jack as you wipe the tears away. "Hold on, gimme one sec." You say, setting down your phone as you pull Quinn's hockey bag out the car. You close the trunk, make sure the car is locked and head back to the elevator.
"Hi, sorry I'm back. I was just grabbing Quinn's stuff out the car."
"Can you tell us what happened?" Luke asks softly.
"He's got a concussion, and he's a bit bruised up, but other than that he's alright"
"Fuck, how bad is it?" Jack asks, the fear is evident in his voice, and you can't blame him. Concussions can be really bad sometimes.
"They said its a mild concussion, he's not throwing up at all, his memory is ok, he didn't injure his spine or anything, he'll be ok after a few days of rest. He probably wont be playing for a few weeks, but better safe than sorry."
"Oh thank God" both Jack and Luke huffed "isn't he not supposed to sleep for 24 hours after or something?" Luke asks.
You shake your head with a small smile "Thats a myth, Lukey. As long as I check on him every few hours its ok for him to sleep."
"Ohh, ok. Well that's good" Luke says.
"We are glad he has you Y/n, thank you for taking care of our brother."
"Always" you say softly.
"We'll let you go now, keep us updated?"
"I will, Jackie. You two get some rest, you have a big game tomorrow, love you guys"
"We love you too Y/n/n" both boys say, hanging up.
You sigh, leaving his bag at the door. "Y/n?" Quinns weak voice calls out from the bedroom. You rush to him immediately, scared that something is wrong.
"Yes, Quinny, I'm right here" you say kneeling beside the bed, and stroking his hair.
"You took long," he mumbles, pressing his lips against your wrist.
"I'm sorry love, I'm here now," you stand, stripping the hoodie and sweats off and climbing into bed next to him. You stay a little distance away, not wanting to hurt Quinn. But he grumbles at you, tugging on your shirt to get you to come closer. Normally, he would just grab you and pull you closer, but he's still weak.
"I don't wanna hurt you" you mumble, scooting closer so that you are tucked against his side. He tangles your legs together and rests his head against yours.
"Never" he says, pressing his lips to the side of your head. You rest one of your hands on his hip, under his shirt, stroking your thumb over his hip bone.
"How you feeling?" You ask softly.
"Beat" he mumbles "thanks for taking care of me"
"I'll take care of you for as long as you let me love" you say, pressing a gentle kiss to the underside of his jaw.
"Forever?"
"Forever."
---
Wc: 3.1k
#qh43#quinn hughes#nhl imagine#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes x y/n#luke hughes#vancover canucks#jack hughes#hockey#nhl x y/n#nhl x you#nhl imagines#love soph
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call it what you want pt7.
matt sturniolo x fem reader.
over the years, matt had got into many fights, countless punches thrown at people, and almost an infinite number of run ins with those who simply just pissed him off.
but it always shocked you that he was like this. chris and nick we’re such nice people. sure they had both had fights with people before, but matt was ridiculous.
and this factor was part of the reason you couldn’t stand him. you had never been in a fight before. you’d never hit or punched anyone, never even laid a harmful finger on one single person, so the earth shifted a little when you locked eyes on jessica levri, pushing, and yelling in your fake boyfreinds face, because like a hounds blood, you were drawn to it.
you weren’t sure if it was because of the adrenaline from what just happened with matt, or the pure fact that jessica levri had been on her high fucking horse far too long and she needed a rude awakening, but before you could even register what was happening, you were wedging yourself between her and matt and pushing her shoulders, sending her stumbling back.
she looked at you, scoffing like you were the most vile thing on earth.
you’re gaze on her was intense, like she was about to turn to stone any second, and your whole body was red hot with anger.
by now pretty much the whole team were stood around, waiting in anticipation. matt was behind you, chris to your left, caden to your right, and elijah stood behind jess.
you watched as she swapped her eyes from yours to matts, before smirking and opening her mouth.
“get your dog under control matty, it looks like she bites” she sneered.
there was no reply from matt, but you heard him suck in a breath from behind you.
you bit the inside of your cheek. you had gotten this far, but you hadn’t thought it through. what we’re you even going to say?
she laughed before crossing her arms over her chest and leaning down, getting right in your face.
“what? you gonna hit me?”
great idea.
there was no time for any other person to even get a word in edge ways.
as soon as you pulled your hand back, it was like everything was suddenly moving in slow motion.
the whole school was watching.
caden.
matt was right behind you.
oh god your parents, what would they think.
you were probably going to be expelled.
you were about to rock Jessica levris shit in front of half of your town.
there was no turning back now.
the second your fist landed on her face with a searing crack, the whole crowd gasped.
she dropped to the floor like a bag of bricks. clutching her face, crying like a kicked dog.
“yes bitch” you yelled, bending down slightly.
your chest was heaving up and down, red hot fury surging through your veins like the deadliest poison, and somehow it felt exhilarating, like taking a breath after drowning.
everyone stood completely gobsmacked. matt, elijah, caden, chris. all in complete silence, mouths hanging open at your outburst.
there was a brief moment, and the temptation to jump on her and carry on hitting her stupid bitchy face was through the roof.
but just as you went to make a move, hands came around you from behind your waist, throwing you over their shoulder, and escorting you off of the rink, while you kicked and screamed, yelling whoever it was to put you down.
-
“i mean what we’re you even thinking y/n” chris yelled, pacing up and down the locker room while you sat on the bench, watching him like a disciplined child. he had picked you up and walked you right out, preventing you from causing anymore damage.
about 20 minutes had passed, and still no sign of matt.
“i don’t know” you muttered quietly.
“you know you’re gonna be in trouble right?” he said, coming to a halt and pointing a finger at you.
you simply nodded and looked down.
the both of you just basked in the silence, taking a moment to recollect after the complete shit show that just occurred.
it was now that you were realising, that hitting jessica was the stupidest decision you had ever had. no good would come of it. matt would still probably go back to her, your parents were gonna be furious, ans the school we’re gonna expel you. what a waste of bruised knuckles.
suddenly, the locker room door burst open and matt came rushing through, making both you and chris to snap your heads up in his direction.
“i’ve looked everywhere for you guys” he panted.
“yeah, i had to get this Chihuahua away from the general public, who knows who’s next on her hit list” chris spat. you knew he was angry with you. this was the most out of character thing you’ve ever done.
matt nodded, looking at you, before rubbing a hand over his face and opening his mouth to speak.
“hey uh, would you give us a minute to talk?” he asked, swapping his gaze to his brother.
he just scoffed, not even sparing you a glance, before walking away, slamming the door shut on his way out, making you flinch.
matt watched the door close before padding over to you and sitting down.
you refused to look up at him, too worried to see his expression.
“he’s pissed” matt stated.
you just nodded. keeping your eyes trained to your feet. you could feel his eyes burning holes into the side of your face.
“you broke her nose” he spoke, his tone flat.
“good that bitch deserved it” you scoffed.
matt just shook his head, letting out a breath, before standing up in-front of you.
“what has gotten into you? last i checked, you wouldn’t even talk shit about someone without feeling bad and now you’re hitting people?” he questioned.
“i don’t know matt! i was pissed at you and then she just-“ you cut yourself off, sighing. “i don’t know” you finished. finally bringing your eyes up to meet his.
“so you wanted to hit me, but you hit her instead?” he raised his eyebrows, eyes boring into yours.
you just shrugged, there was no justification for it at all, apart from the fact that she was a complete bitch, and she was right there.
“you can’t just punch people y/n” he said sternly, folding his arms over his chest, looking down at you like a disappointed parent.
“you do” you exclaimed, looking up at him, raising your voice slightly.
“but you’re not me, you’re not like this, you’re nice and smart, and you’re always gentle with people” he shot back. his words threw you off a little. that was probably the nicest thing matt had ever said about you.
you didn’t reply. you just blinked up at him with furrowed brows.
matt sighed before taking a seat next to you again.
“for what it’s worth, i’d punch your ex for no reason” he said. turning to look at you.
“thanks matt. that means a lot. that doesn’t change the fact that everyone is pissed at me” you yelped, throwing your hands up and letting them fall, and slap against your legs.
“chris will come round, and i’m not pissed at you” he spoke lowly.
you sighed, and turned your head to look at him, and the look that he was giving you made you want to squeeze your thighs together.
there was something written on his face that you couldn’t decipher. his eyes were low and dilated. like he was hungry for something.
there it was again, that moment of silence, both of you just staring at eachother.
matt brought his hand up to brush against your face, then letting it cup your cheek, and in that very moment, you did know better.
your lips were on his in less than a second, pushing and pulling against him.
you felt his tongue prod at your lips. begging for entrance witch you granted, and he was all over you, running his tongue along the roof of your mouth, making you whine and matt smirked against your lips.
his hands came round to pull you up onto his lap and you happily obliged. running your hands up his chest and round to the back of his neck, tugging his hair, pulling a low groan from matts mouth, as his hands ran up your sides, pulling you impossibly closer.
the kiss was hot and sloppy, the both of you, somehow, relishing in the hatred for one another, but basking in the tension.
you felt matts hands travel down to your ass, pushing you back and pulling you forward, making you rock your hips against his, and you damn near dropped to your knees, before a voice snapped you both out of it.
“well this is a sight for sore eyes”.
—————————————-—————————————
also my taglist is not working, so if it says i haven’t tagged you, trust me i tried 💕
this long as fuck taglist: @sturnssan @biplrbtch bitch @valerieburkens @ukyios @eyelessdemon00 @iheart2021chris @hearts4chris @leah-loves-lilies @whicked-hazlatwhore e @lexihowardsgf @1201pm-blog m @chrislover911 @yourmom-123456789 5 @x4nd3rsukz @ilovechrissturnioloposts @mattnchrisworld @leoloveeeee e @jazab3lla @martyniukpl @sturnbaby @knowingnothingnoel @ilovemattstromboli i @obsessedwithyou @dragonstoneshortcake @breeloveschris @biinthisbitch13 @skyteller143 @innocentfsin @mattswifue @thatcrazybitch-69 @ihateeveryone357474 4 @shmophsturniolo o @sturns-posts @mattsturnzzz09 @sturnisposts @jenna0rtegaswife @jeffbuckleylvr27 @katelynmeier14 @sara2233445 @alexb25598 @sturniolos4lifee @st7rnioloss @kasiaslayuje @causeidontlikegolsrush @cosmicmistake42069 9 @xxloveralways14 @24kmar @creamoncreamoncream2 @kennyhop @khloe7233 @sofiasnookiee @sfdfgy @iker-blog1 yn @sleepdeprivedandinsane @quinnroki @lvr444life e @ffhgdxgg @travelintheworld2 @aubreyswift13 @sturniololol @starziick @heartlesssturniolos @nickmillersn1gf @beautyb1ade @tommysaxes
#chris sturniolo#mango talks#sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo#christopher owen sturniolo#chris sturniolo blurb#chris sturniolo oneshot#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo imagine#sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#call it what you want#ciwyw#smut#my fics#fanfic#matthew bernard sturniolo#enemies to lovers
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Lovely Riddance p2
link to part one here
the first post got a lot of attention so I finally decided to work on the second part. Lol.
Also I am sick rn so I’m trying to do all my requests, but they are still open if you’d like to request something!
Y!Alastor x reader x Y!Lucifer
If you ask me why I put the seal there, I honestly don’t know.
After you and Alastor had left the hotel he teleported the both of you to the hotel. It kinda scared you since you forgot he could teleport for a moment. He already made a reservation so it wasn’t that long of a wait. (The hostess was afraid of Alastor though since he has quite a reputation)
A waiter quickly brought the menu and gave you guys a couple minutes to find out what you’d like to order. When Alastor already picked his order you were still wondering what to order, so he looked around and he couldn’t help but notice at the corner of his eye, that someone was watching the both of you. He didn’t know who was stalking the both of you but he had a suspicion it was Lucifer.
Lucifer didn’t think that Alastor didn’t notice how he treated you when Lucifer first visited. He saw how Lucifer looked at you, how he spoke to you, and his aura around you.
So if Lucifer really was the one who is stalking the both of you right now, Alastor had to play his cards just right in order to manipulate you, and piss off Lucifer.
Once you finally picked what you wanted to order, Alastor called over the waiter and placed in both of your orders. During the time you both were waiting for your food you couldn’t help but realize how touchy and romantic he became.
He started brushing his hand on yours, pointing out your lovely features, what good taste you have in fashion, basically anything that would help him woo you.
Lucifer watching from a window was enraged, how did Alastor think he could just do that to you? He understands that you two haven’t met in a long time but you didn’t forget the bond you too had, did you?
He protected during your time in hell because he knew you were already there, and he couldn’t have you getting hurt now could he? (He was basically stalking you the entire time you were in hell.)
Seeing how Alastor treated you made him want to kill Alastor on the spot, but he worried that if he did you would see him as a monster. So he just had to wait a bit to cover up Alastor’s death as a disappearance. It would make sense anyways, since Alastor had left for 7 years prior.
Alastor was trying different ways to woo you, and it was working. You felt your face heat up a bit during times where he brushed his hand on yours, pulled away some hair strands from your hair, and when he gave you tons of compliments.
He kept doing this until both of your orders came and you guys took a small break to eat what you ordered.
Once you guys finished you meals he paid for it and then took you somewhere that he said was “special”. (Lucifer followed behind you guys without you knowing)
He took you somewhere beautiful and led to you a bench to sit down with him and admire the scene. His plan was working. Now the last thing he needed to do was to propose his deal to you.
“My dear, [y/n] you should probably know how I feel about you by now. Especially after all those hints I gave you. So may I ask you of a favor?”
That was very unexpected for you to hear from Alastor, but it “made your heart race. “What favor would you like to ask from me?”
“I would like to propose a deal for you dear. Yes I’d own your soul, but in a way you’d technically own mine as well. What I’m saying is that we’d both be at each others beck and call.” He then offered his hand to you. “So do we have a deal?”
This was a deal that was hard to resist, the idea of it made your heart sink but also squeal with joy. Did that mean he like wanted to be yours officially?
You found yourself almost about to shake his hand to confirm the deal, but before you could someone interrupted.
“DON’T SHAKE HIS FUCKING HAND!”
….
PART THREE COMING SOON.
TAGLIST: @slimeygirlowo @pooplyface1423 @fabii275 @killer-nightmare0 @caniseethefourthsword @myluckymoon
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