#its the heart player in me i cannot help it i see a good guy turn bad guy unwillingly and i am like. yep thats the one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jjenjoyer · 2 years

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being a hero isn't free : eddie munson x gn! reader

summary: eddie gets into a fight with jason to protect you but he breaks his finger so he can't play guitar for a while </3 so he teaches you to play :]

[warnings: bullying, use of 'queer' as an insult, h0mophobia, swearing, violence]

note: this is my first time writing a fanfic in a WHILE- might be trash so i sincerely apologise

1.3k words

"oi, freak!"

you spin around to the yell from behind you, wondering if it was directed at you-- which was honestly stupid, who else was a freak in this godforsaken new school? nobody.

you lock eyes with a tall, blonde and blue eyed guy in a varsity jacket, leaning on a locker and staring you down like a wolf would its prey.

"can i help you?"

he rolls his eyes and treads closer to your slightly trembling body, towering over you with his menacing aura crawling under your skin, making you shiver in fear.

in a flash, the jock is pinning you against the locker (and not in a good way), hands trapping you from running like hell out of there.

"where did you transfer from?"

"new york, what's it to you, blondie?"

"first off, it's jason. jason carver, remember it, freak. new york, huh? knew it, i can smell the queer from here. now fuck off before you spread that shit."

you squeeze your eyes shut as you see him lift his hand, and wait for the impact.

but it never comes.

you peek to see why the entire hallway began screaming out of nowhere, and open your eyes to a scene that you definitely did NOT expect on your first day--

a long haired, denim-clad, pretty boy knocking the jock to the ground, successfully landing a punch to his defined cheekbones, chunky silver rings bruising them instantly.

you don't know who your saviour is, but damn, he's hot.

his victory is short lasted though, because you blink and suddenly this 'jason' is crouching with one hand pressing down the brave guy's back, where you spot a dio (HOLY SHIT HE LISTENS TO DIO??!?!) back patch under the jock's grip, and his ring-bearing hand being crushed under his white shoe.

"STOP IT! LET GO OF HIM!"

"what are you gonna do about it, little sheep? fight me? hah."

your eyes well up with tears as you hear the guy under jason whimpering in pain, begging him to stop before he breaks his fingers.

a sickening "crack" echoes through the now-silent hallway, the Dio man in hysterics, rambling something about a guitar through sobs. you rush to his side as soon as jason leaves, the rest of the school walking away behind him.

"hey dude, you really didn't have to do that, why would you- holy shit that looks horrible, gotta get you to a hospital-"

the guy who saved you looks up at you, and your heart stops for a good three seconds--

he's gorgeous.

big, black puppy eyes stare up at you, a layer of tears coating them, so tragically beautiful.

you slip your arms under his, and heave the sobbing mess of limbs up, stumbling a bit under the weight, but managing to drag him to your car.

by the time you reach the car, he's calmed down a bit, the sobbing decreased to an occasional sniffle, him holding the injured hand close to his chest and down looking at it dejectedly.

"hey, what's your name?"

"ed- eddie munson. you?"

"y/n"

"nice to meet you, y/n. this isn't the ideal way of meeting a gorgeous person like you, but here we are."

"dude- i cannot thank you enough, if it wasn't for you i'd get a black eye on my first day in this place."

"first day?! man, i really gotta kill carver now."

"maybe hold that off for a bit, yeah? i'm gonna take you to the hospital now, if thats alright."

"yes please. ahh shit, this sucks, i have a show tomorrow."

"show?"

"guitar. something you need your left hand to play."

"oh shit. shit shit shit i'm so sorry-"

"it's alright, nobody even listens to us anyways."

"i would."

eddie looks up at you with those goddamn puppy dog eyes again, a small smile on his pretty face as he asked if you were serious, to which you smiled and pushed the "ride the lightning" by metallica cassette into the car player, hearing him scream when the first note of "escape" plays, which is where you paused it last.

"HOLY SHIT!! YOU LISTEN TO METALLICA?"

"yeah.. not just that though. i fuckin' love metal."

you catch eddie's eyes widening even further from your peripheral vision, seeing him grinning like a fool as you smirk slightly.

maybe this school isn't so bad after all.

after the hospital visit, where it is determined that eddie broke his pointer, middle and ring finger, his hand cast in a chunky white plaster till his wrist which wasn't to come off for three months. he had instructed you to drive to his house, not making eye contact with you the entire time.

safe to say he was devastated.

and you were extremely guilty.

"is there ANYTHING i can do for you?"

"...well, there is one thing."

"name it."

"let me teach you to play guitar, please. i can't stand watch Sweetheart sit there unused, collecting dust for three months."

"oh shit, that's your request? i've always wanted to learn guitar... you're the one doing me a favour here."

eddie giggles and punches the air happily, making you laugh as well.

upon reaching his trailer, you follow him to his room, jaw dropping to the floor when you take it in. all the posters of the bands you love, the little trinkets stashed atop the cabinets, the scattered dungeons and dragons brainstorming sheets on the bed--

you were gone. head over heels, even.

"like what you see?"

"i love it."

he took down the magnificent guitar off the wall and placed it in your hands.

"she's all yours now. come, i'll show you the basics"

eddie guides you onto the bed and helps position the guitar properly, maneuvering your hand to the basic major and power chords, you got them all to sound except the F chord, which was frustrating despite his reassurances that nobody gets it on the first try.

he taught you how to play the power chords of "rock you like a hurricane" by the scorpions, which was surprisingly easy.

upon finishing the song, you flung your body backwards onto the bed, stretching your sore back.

"so, do you like it"

"i love it, its so much fun. you're an incredible teacher, eds- eddie."

"...did you just call me eds?"

you giggle and slide off the bed, hiding in a way that only your eyes peek out from above the mattress:

"no... hehe"

your eyes trail over to the desk, where you grab a pen and hoist yourself back onto the bed.

"gimme your hand. no, the other one."

eddie places his casted hand in your awaiting one with a confused look as you uncap the pen and begin to scribble away at his cast, chewing on your bottom lip in the process.

five minutes later, you proudly place his hand in front of his face, showing off your masterpiece:

"eddie munson: my hero :)"

was the text under an impressively resemblant sketch of eddie in a knight outfit, a doodle stretching from his casted knuckle to his wrist.

eddie admired it for a good minute, his eyes filled with stars as he analysed the details of your sketch, eventually breaking the awkward silence with a loud "AT YOUR SERVICE!", and a knightly pose which made you both giggle, no matter how much he tried to keep a straight face.

and just like that, with daily guitar lessons at eddie's trailer after school, the two of you became friends, maybe even more (however that was never discussed properly), and the three months flew by, by the end of which he could finally play his beloved "Sweetheart" again. by that time, you had become quite good yourself, which prompted you to invest in a "Darling" of your own, which was the exact colour compliment to his-- red with black cracks.

the two of you were perfect for one another, and by the time you both successfully graduated, the two of you became inseparable.

the freaks gotta stick together, right?

thank you for reading if you did ! please leave requests if you want, its 2am rn so its probably gonna look like flaming hot shit to me tmr morning but aaaanywaaays hope u liked it maybe

(づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x gn reader #gender neutral fanfic #i love eddie munson #fuck jason all my homies hate jason

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0alanasworld0 · 1 year

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Let's Play Getting to Know Alana (Stolen from a TikTok)

Footballer who made you fall in love with the game

First Favourite Footballer

Footballer who brings you the most comfort

Footballer who's smile lights up your day

Footballer you miss seeing at your club

Footballer you miss the most

Footballer You Would Defend Your Life for

Yesssss i was hoping i'd get one of these!

A very common one but its easily ronaldinho. this MF made the sport look like so much fun. every second he was on the ball i just couldn't look away because WOW. you could just see the love he had for the sport from the way he played the game

2. Thomas Muller. again probably a really common one but he was and still is a fascinating player. for someone to be able to do so much with simply the mastery of the basics was so cool to see. and you can't talk about muller without talking about his shithousery cos no one does it as well as him. poking fun at a rival while making it crystal clear that he has no malicious intentions is hard to to but he manages it perfectly. he always just brought a smile to my face whenever he was on the pitch (and when i heard him yelling off the pitch)

3. i think something about luka modric brings me a lot of comfort. he's enigmatic on the ball and a phenomenal leader. the way he lead croatia throughout their international tournament run made him so likeable and respectable. i just couldn't help but root for him. he deserves every ounce of success he's had and much more. that ballon d'or couldn't have gone to a better person, its been an honour to watch him play.

4. the one and only... Yassine bounou. he's just a lovely human being. he seems like such a kind and warm person that i can't help but adore him. you couldn't hate him if you tried. from opposition to referees, he just sets such a good example to those around him. he's achieved astounding things in the past few years and i've loved seeing him get recognition for it recently. he's got an infectious positivity about him and i think it's just a good influence on everyone. we all need someone like him in our lives imo

5. without a doubt robert lewandowski. i think we all remember his iconic 5 goals in 9 minutes but even aside from that he was phenomenal for us. we're still feeling the brunt of his exit and its painful knowing that we would probably be in a much better position if we could rely on him as a striker.

6. bro's only been gone for a short while but mesut ozil. this man made me so proud as a muslim because of how well he did everywhere he went. i think what hurts most about his retirement is just the sequence of events that lead to it. knowing that he put his heart and soul into playing for germany and the treatment he received when they were underperforming broke my heart. he deserved so much better and i always wonder what could have been if he'd been cut the same slack other players had been given.

7. there r a few players in contention for this so i'll give you the top 2.

Hakim Ziyech because this guy could make 10 key passes a match and he'd still be seen as the worst player on the pitch by chelsea fanboys. somehow he's always to blame. the man was spectacular for ajax and he's spectacular for morocco. i dont understand how when he doesnt perform at chelsea, he's the one at fault. how when the whole team underperforms, he's the one that gets singled out. he deserves better than the hand he's been dealt. he's a star, he's proven that time and time again.

the other one is gavi. similar to hakim, its just the disproportionate level of hatred he receives genuinely makes my blood boil. this guy is 18 years old, its his first full season of professional football. yet somehow his weaknesses are viewed as complete deal breakers from the get go. he constantly being compared to players who are many years older than him as if thats any evidence that he doesnt deserve to be where he is. i genuinely cannot imagine how hard things must be for him because this level of scrutiny simply isnt fair. he's got at least 16 years of playing left in him. he's got a good working attitude and will probably be able to play for much longer than that. he's a work-in-progress and people r treating him like he's 35 years old and done nothing.

#ty for sending!!!#i was hoping i'd get one of these!!!

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cloudmancy · 2 years

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you guys sent in SO MANY asks and I physically cannot respond to all of them so I’ll post (most) of them at once. I am like a little messaging service an anonymous ruehob confessions blog of a sort... you are welcome... discussion goes in the reblogs/comments

[ID: anon ask reading “ruehob isnt really a like concept of acutal partners to me its just an exploration of regency tropes and dynamics... like i dont understand making like fluff post-canon stuff for them because it feels like the relationship is intentionally pretty shallow because its more about the narrative tension than either of them as Real People in a Real Relationship. theyre here to check the boxes of a dramatic regency romance and that is very fun like i love it but its also not really ABOUT if theyre gonna have a good life after the show”]

[ID: anon ask reading “personally i like ruehob but its true its literally because people hate women and wuvvy deserves so so so much better... i was kinda sad that aabria didn't address wuvvy's side in the AP and just made it out to be like a "ooh fun and drama" thing but maybe it's bc she didn't want to dive deep into it yet and i REALLY hope wuvvy will like. get to make a statement to rue or smth because she deserves FAR better at this point. i know the wuvvy neglect from rue's side might be because the player's have way too many interactions to go through but LORD!!!!!!! its not even supporting womens wrongs at this point bc like wuvvy DESERVES to do at least that much if she's been treated like this :| anyway people will stay hating women and prioritising ~ romance ~ over all else its maddening to see”]

[ID: anon ask reading “could be my years of reading fanfiction but the miscommunication trope are the reason that ruehob are acting like middle schoolers with a crush who they have only talked to twice and saying "they love them" is why they feel like an unfulfilling ship”]

[ID: anon ask reading “not to join the crowd but thank you for putting words to my inarticulate dissatisfaction w ruehob 😭😭 it felt very sudden and maneuvered into place and narratively dissatisfying, like they were trying to hit tropes rather than craft a satisfying romance into the story. there was no buildup!! there was one scene that led to contrived drama for several episodes and now they love each other. it could have been a really fun narrative about an infatuation between two powerful fey and the hearts they trample on in the process, but it's not being framed like that (or, y'know, they could've given their characters a history together). you're right about wuvvy/binx though, i'm a simple lesbian ready to get deeply invested in this”]

[ID: anon ask reading “i gotta thank you homie, after scrolling through your blog it's helped me put my finger on why i'm not as about ruehobb as everyone else seems to be and also that wuvvy can destroy folks, as a treat tbh”]

[ID: anon ask reading “insane take maybe but the ruehob of it all isn't about the long-term relationship- it's about the experience of one person making you reconsider everything. rue and hob do fall fast and hard and their relationship is a catalyst for self-growth more than it is sustainable, which I kind of like tbh and find relevant to at least my queer experience. we don't know what hob (and rue to an extent) would actually be Like because he doesn't know that, because he's never given himself the chance. wuvvy is stable and confident in her identity in a way that rue and hob aren't, and so their dumpster fire mess of longing and repression looks insane and unappealing to her, but I do think it's compelling to watch from our perspective. the issue comes in when every fan acts like they are soulmates who are going to be together 4ever and it's like. we don't know! these people haven't been themselves ever, really, we don't know! I think in AP7 brennan said that he intentionally put a seed of growth in hob that he needed to confront his relationship with his court and duty, etc, and rue just happened to slot perfectly in. it's not about it being rue specifically, it's about the self-discovery of realizing you can be loved, that there is something deeper than orders, as he says. same goes for rue: it's not about the specifics of hob, it's about wanting something and Not putting cordiality and safety and appearances first”]

[ID: anon ask reading “remember when hob was like rue doesn’t actually love me i was just there at a good time. i was sitting here thinking man…i WISH, that’d be way more interesting. anyway to each their own but ruewuvvy rights”]

#asks #anon #acofaf

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hiphop-rap-and-basketball · 3 years

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Ya lil’ Glasses | LaMelo Ball One Shot

Pairing: LaMelo Ball x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,588

Summary: You and LaMelo Ball both attend UCLA for undergrad. Of course he happens to be that hype kid the class that’s loud with his friends. You both get paired up to do a project together for the class. He’s kind of mean and pokes fun and although he gets on your last nerve, you may or may not find him just a little tiny bit cute. Maybe.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, mentions of sex, female and male anatomy, orgasm control, possibly cliche, M/F.

A/N: damn forgive me it’s been a while since I’ve written smut, butttt I’m on a roll with writing lately soo that’s not stopping me. Let me know what y’all think ;) enjoyyyyy and happy reading

•••

You cannot believe you were paired up with Melo Ball for the most important assignment of this course for the semester. Yeah, it’s UCLA but they really just let any good sports player in and you cared about your education. He did not. All he did was mess around and crack jokes

with his friends in the class. Imagine acting like that in college, couldn’t be you.

When it came down to finally finding a time to work on it together, you could not wait to get it over with.

The first time you met with him for the project was in the common hall. You both settle down in your chairs and you pull out your laptops. As soon as Melo pulled his stuff out, he hopped on his phone.

“Can we just come up with an idea and be done today?” You ask, not really in the mood to ask for his full attention.

He looked at you before clicking his phone off and licking his lips.

“Yeah sorry, sorry, I gotchu.”

You cannot help but roll your eyes. He sits there in silence for a moment and actually starts shooting out ideas. You start writing them down until you finally agree on one.

“I think that’s a pretty good start,” you say, proud you guys at least got something down.

“I think so too. What you doing after this?” He asks, running his hands over his curls.

“Track practice at 4, shower, hopefully dinner after,” you say as you close up your laptop.

“You run track? Running is gross,” he laughs.

“How you gonna say running is gross when all you do is run up and down the court?” You ask, a little too loudly, someone shushes you and you both crouch down and begin whispering.

“Basketball is more than that,” he shot back, “you wouldn’t know.”

“Oh here we go, you all say that,” you respond, flicking your wrist at him.

“You all?? What that mean?” He asks.

“As in all the basketball players,” you laugh.

“Yeah yeah, you let me know when track become a real sport,” he fires back.

“It is!” You slam your fist on the table and he smirks, as if he is happy to get you all riled up.

“Mhmmm,” he replies.

“Over this conversation,” you say, getting up and throwing your backpack over your shoulder.

“When you trying to meet next?” He asks calmly, standing up close in front of you. You were looking up at him now, him being more than a foot taller than you made you feel small.

“I’m free all afternoon Wednesday, my class ends at 12:45p.m.”

“You would know when your class ends, nerd.” He responded.

You cock a brow at his attempt at a roast.

“Shut up,” you responded.

“Wednesday at 2p.m. Your dorm. How’s that sound?” He smiles.

“That works,” you shrug. He smiled at you before walking away. You both go your separate ways.

Wednesday came around quickly. Your head hurts today, so you decided to put your glasses on instead of wearing contacts. Even though you knew that would not help you deal with Melo’s bs. He was extra unfocused today.

“How was your dayyy?” He asked as he walking into your dorm room. He looked huge walking through the door it was kind of funny actually.

“Fine, and yours?” You ask, feeling obligated to do so since he asked you first.

“It was alright, better now that we are here working on our project together bestie,” he jokes, plops himself down on your bed to make himself comfortable. You sat on your desk chair facing him.

You caught up with a couple ideas and worked on some your work, actually getting something done, for now.

You had to show each other your screens, so you awkwardly sat next to him on the bed. He sat up. The two of you now with your backs up against the wall and feet hanging off the bed. You sit in silence for a moment.

“I like ya lil glasses, can I try them on?” He asked, smiled and looking in your direction now.

“N-“ before you could answer, he already swiftly pulled them off your face and put them in his anyway. You roll you eyes.

“Do I look smart?” He asked with the cheesiest smile on his face.

“You look stupid,” you reply coldly, although you secretly kind of liked how they looked on him. They fit his face well.

“I think you’re mad they look better on me,” he replied with a scoff.

“You’re sooo annoying,” you reply. Surprisingly feeling yourself fight a smile. “Can you focus please?”

He does the opposite of focusing, eyes looking around your dorm room for a moment.

“Have you ever had sex with a guy? Are you even straight,” He asked, catching you off guard. You took full offense to his question. Not because of him questioning your sexual orientation, but rather him thinking that was his business.

“That’s a personal question,” you respond quickly.

“Seriously? You have this single dorm all to yourself. You don’t even use it to its full benefits. You know how many girls I’d be bringing over if I lived in a single,” he tossed his pencil up in the air and caught it as he spoke.

“I’m here for my sport and to learn, not everything in college is about seeing how many people you can have sex with, Melo.” You responded, typing away at your computer.

Melo slowly lifted your computer off your lap, placing it on the opposite side of him.

“Hey-“ you reach out your hand to it. The room suddenly feeling a lot smaller than it was now that his face was right next to yours and you had nothing to do to keep your hands busy.

“Have you ever even kissed a guy?” He asked, you loosen up at his tone, which oddly enough seems a bit more sincere now.

“Um, no, no actually I haven’t,” you responded quietly, looking down on your lap.

“I don’t believe that.” He responded. “Stop lyin.”

“It’s true,” you shrug, throwing your hands up in defeat.

“You’re so pretty,” he smiles, making your heart skip a beat or two, but you’re usual chatterbox brain was too nervous to agree.

“Beauty standards have nothing to do with the fact that I haven’t kissed anyone yet. I simply choose not to settle-“

He cuts you off by grabbing the back of your neck with his large hands and pulling you in for a kiss. It lasted for what felt like forever but it was only about 10 seconds. Although you were surprised, you did not want to fight it, and you even found you hands settling on top of his shoulders before he pulled away.

You stared at him for a moment, wondering what in his right mind made him want to do that.

“Anyway, I’m ready to focus now,” he smiled, got up and sat in desk chair you were sitting in first.

You sat there eyes wide, trying to process what just happened.

“Um.. yeah… yeah okay,” you say slowly.

You sat there and decided to not acknowledge what just happened as well. Trying to focus on your work, you could not help by to continue replaying that moment in your head. The kiss on repeat for a while. A couple days even. You saw him in class and he was so nonchalant about it. It started to bother you.

It took everything in you not to ask him about the kiss. Not wanting to seem desperate but at the same time what the fuck. That caught you off guard completely.

The next time you too worked together, you worked in his dorm. His roommate was in there with you guys, engaging in the occasional conversation with the two of you.

This time, you actually cared about how you looked, wearing a little make up and wearing a floral sundress that stopped midway on your thighs.

When you walked up to the door, Melo looked you up and down for a moment before letting you in. He had shorts on with no shirt. His athletic build made your cheeks turn hot and look at the ground quickly.

“Welcome in,” he gestured. You walk in and it looks just as you thought a guys dorm room would look like. A damn mess.

You watched him with his back turned as he stood by his closet of clothes, muscles taut as he pulled a new shirt over his head.

You shuffled to get your stuff of your backpack out before he caught you staring and got to work.

His roommate was cute, and you did not care that you were flirting it up with him right in front of Melo. He kissed you with no explanation. You were determined to figure out why.

“Alright, I’m heading to the gym,” his roomie stated and you smile.

“Have funn,” you reply. You watch him walk out the door, looking down at your lap to flatten your dress then look back up at Melo. His face very clearly annoyed and unamused.

“What?” You smirk, asking in an oh-so innocent tone.

“It’s nothing,” he shook his head in response.

“Oh yeah?” You ask. “You sound a little pressed.” You push, big smirk on your face as you spoke.

“I’m good,” he replied coldly.

You confidently put your hand on his shoulder and replied. “Okay,” in a sarcastic tone.

He was not fucking with that. He pulled your arm down from his shoulder and pulled you into a kiss, this being your second time feeling his lips on yours. This one was more intense. You remember thinking of his lips and how they felt from the last kiss. Feeling them again made your heart pound with excitement.

“Shut up and don’t make me admit to jealousy,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m not giving you the satisfaction.”

His hands gripping the back of your hair and he spoke, eyes bouncing from your eyes and lips.

“Hmmm, I think you just did,” you nod your head and shrug your shoulder. He was not having your sarcastic tone. He pulled you closer to him, this time he was laying down and you were sitting top of his lap. He refused to break the kiss, hands from down your neck to your lower back.

In your mind, you were strategically making sure you were right on top of his dick. His lips felt so good to feel again. You were so lost in the heat of the moment now, as he began using his tongue in your mouth, you let out a small moan for the first time.

He let go of the kiss for a moment and smirked.

“I wanna hear your beautiful moans,” he admitted, voice deep and full of lust.

He flipped you over and now your body was underneath him on his bed. You lied down flat on your back. He hovered himself over you.

Kissing you a couple times more, before kissing his way down your neck and stopping at your breast.

“You knew what you were doing wearing this shit,” he stated sternly.

You roll your eyes, “shut up.”

“You gon stop giving me that smart mouth,” he replied, smirk on his face before making his way down further. Your heart beating even fast now. He lifted up your dress to find you only in a thong.

He quickly looked up you with a smirk on his face, shook his head and carried on. Yanking your panties off, his lip made their way to your clit like a magnet.

You moaned softly at the pleasure, in fear that someone might hear the two of you.

“What if he comes back?”

“I don’t give a fuck, he could watch,” his voice low and eyes hooded, way too focused at the task at hand to even look at you.

Licking and teasing at your folds, you feel yourself getting closer due to all the tension you had built up since you arrived to his dorm, your mind flashing the sight of him when you walked when he was just no shirt on. His dick print very clear through his shorts.

As you felt yourself getting close to the edge, he stopped, and looked up at you.

“Whyyy,” you groaned put your hands over your face in frustration.

“Because, you was talking all that shit,” he said with one finger in your folds as he rubbed it slowly.

“Please,” you said and his surprised eyes look into yours.

“Nope,” he smirked. Now you were not having it.

You reach down to his shorts and very clearly feel his hard member. You looked up at him with pleading eyes as you began to rub it slowly.

He leaned down and started kissing your neck. You and him both knew he did not want this to stop, and he was fighting with every ounce in his bones not to rip your dress off and fuck you right then and there.

But you knew how to get what you wanted.

“Then it’s my turn,” you smile, pushing him off you and getting down on your knees on the side of his twin sized bed.

Knowing you have never done this before, you were slightly worried you would not be that great at it. You moistened your mouth as you pulled his shorts down, you did not have anything to compare his size to, but you were guessing it was bigger than average.

You admired it for a moment before taking it into your mouth. You heard him suck in his teeth as you took a few licks.

“What’s the matter?” You ask innocently looking up at him through your lashes while you swirled your tongue around the tip.

He bit bottom lip threw his head back, you knew that no answer meant that shit was hitting.

“Keep doing that shit with your tongue,” he groaned quietly.

You keep going at it for a while, and stopped when you felt him starting to thrust into your mouth.

“That’s it,” he groaned as he pulled you on the bed, you watched as he began to slowly push himself inside of you, wincing at the pain, he went slow and you warmed up. He looked so good while he stroked you. You started to feel better and better. He watched you as you took all of him now and proudly.

“I told you to stop talking all that shit,” he groaned.

“I don’t regret it,” you smirk.

“You bout to,” he stated as he began to speed up the pace.

You moaned louder as he continued to thrust into you. You could not believe this moment was actually happening. Him giving into it fed into your pride.

You watching at he admired every ounce of body, gripping and tugging at your soft spots. He held your hips as he picked up the pace.

He pulled out and finished himself off on your stomach. You lay there feeling a mess, he gets a towel and you guys get yourselves together throwing the occasional smirk at each other.

“You look so pretty taking this dick,” he stated, grabbing your neck and kissing you slowly. You smiled into the kiss.

“I’ll do it again,” he confirmed, both hands holding your face as he kissed you hard, tonguing you down.

“Chillll,” you laugh. “Let’s get this damn assignment going already.”

#lamelo ball #liangelo ball #lonzo ball #hornets #basketball #lamelo ball fan fictions #lamelo ball imagines #melo ball fanfic #melo ball one shots #ball in the family #by melo ball #ball family

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outsideratheart · 3 years

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You’re My Future (Christen Press x reader)

You and Christen had been together for a few years. You had met when Christen got called up to the senior USWNT.

Over the years you had both made a name for yourself in the soccer world, her being the speedy forward and you being the all or nothing midfielder. You both loved what you did for living but living the dream came with a cost. The cost was finally catching up with the both of you, all of the flights, minutes on the pitch and pressure from the press and fans.

Christen was so happy when it was announced that she was the first player to be signed to Angel City FC but that happiness didn’t last long. You were both trying to get over the olympics, sure a bronze medal was great but you both wanted gold and you blamed yourself personally as you were the captain no matter how many times your girlfriend told you otherwise.

When she told you that she was temporarily stepping away from international duty you were so proud of her. You wish you could do the same but it wasn’t that easy. In order for you to focus on your mental health you would have the step away from the thing that the helps clear you head, it was a lose lose situation for you.

“Y/N you get more stick and are under more pressure than me. I saw the way acted at the olympics when you thought I wasn’t looking. You cannot burn the candle at both ends and still expect to shine bright” Christen told you.

“I know but it’s not the same for me, I don’t have a family waiting for me” You instantly regretting it.

You stand there looking at Christen as she processes what you said.

“After all this time, you still don’t see me as family” She begins to say but you cut her off before things get much worse.

“Christen that is not what I meant and you know it”

“If I’m not family then what are we doing” Christen asks you as tears fall down her face.

This is what happens whenever you guys talk about this, it always ends up in a fight.

You watch as your girlfriend storms off into the bedroom you share.

“Chris, don’t shut me out. Let’s talk about this” you say leaning against the door frame.

She doesn’t answer you so you put you ear to the door and you hear Christen sniffling. Your girlfriend was crying and it was your fault, all because you couldn’t walk away from soccer.

You had chosen football over everything, family and friends included but Christen showed you a life outside of soccer and it scared the crap out of you. She was it for you, she was what you wanted in life and now it was time to show her that.

When christen came out of the bedroom you were gone and by the time you got back she was already asleep.

The next morning started like any other, you went for run whilst Christen did her yoga then you both meditated together. It had been like this since COVID happened.

It was what happend next which shocked Christen. You was watching ESPN when it was released.

“Breaking news! Portland Thorns and USWNT captain Y/N L/N announces that she will be taking a break from club and country. I had the pleasure of speaking to Y/N personally about this last night and she told me that it was time to focus on her mental health which is completely understandable. She captained the team in the highs of winning the world cup and the lows of rio 2016” The new anchor and a close friend of yours says.

Christen hangs on every word the women says before turning to look at you.

She opens her mouth but you cut her off before she even gets the chance to speak.

“ I love you Christen Press” you tell her.

“I love you but I know what soccer means to you”

“You mean more and you are right, I need to take a step back. Soccer occupies after thought I have. How can I play better, how can I be a better leader. I don’t allow myself to be happy” You admit it out loud.

You phone goes off and you see several messages from your teammates.

Christen looks at you in shock as you turn your phone off.

“Y/N you don’t have to”

“I want to”

The both of you didn’t leave the couch until the early evening when Chris told you that she was meeting Tyler for some food.

“You sure you don’t want to come? We are going to that Thai place you like” She laughs as your head perks up at the word ‘Thai’

“I’m going to call some of the girls back” You reply

Christen is almost out the door before you run after her.

She looks at you amused. You look her in the eye before kissing her, surprised when Christen deepens the kiss.

“Bring me back some spring rolls” You ask making your girlfriend laugh.

You run over the window making sure she is gone before putting your master plan together.

A couple of hours later you hear Chris opens the door.

“Honey, I’m home and I have spring rolls” You says but you don’t answer.

Christen looks in the kitchen but its empty, she goes into the living room you’re not there.

It is only when she goes into your bedroom that she finds you.

There you stand in front of your bed which is covered in hiking gear.

You look at her and she is clearly confused by what she is seeing.

You walk over to your girlfriend reaching for her hands.

“After your mom passed you told me you wanted to leave, go somewhere were nobody knew who we were and completely disconnect from the world”

You take a deep breath remembering it well. The loss of Christen’s mother was something you both felt deeply, seeing your girlfriend in so much pain and not being able to do anything about it destroyed you.

“There is this trail in Spain, it is called the Camino De Santiago”

Christen smiles knowing what you are about to suggest.

“It takes 4 - 6 weeks. It will just be me and you”

You look her in the eye.

“What do you say, are you ready for an adventure? Ready to do some soul searching?” You ask playfully.

You watch as christen struggles to speak, she is at a loss for words.

Instead of saying anything she pulls you into her embrace as she buries her face in the crook of your neck.

“Everyday with you is an adventure” She tells you.

“Pure cheese Christen Press”

“Shut up” She says slapping your arm.

“Is that a yes?” She nods her head enthusiastically.

“Good because we leave in a week” You tell her and her smile melts your heart.

That is the thing you loved most about Christen, her smile. Not matter what caused your sadness or pain, that smile would brighten your day.

A week later your adventure began and it was better than you could have ever imagined.

Your relationship with Christen was in a great place before the trip but now you felt closer to her if that was even possible.

Ever minute of every day you were with her and it made to look forward to the future you have with her.

She talked about her mother a lot which you knew was difficult but ever since she passed Christen focused on soccer so she never talked about her, not like this.

You talked to her about your early life, memories with your parents as well as their passing. You never talked to her about it before, she knew that had died but didn’t know when or how.

This trip allowed you both to be completely open with each other and show the other one your vulnerabilities.

4 1/2 weeks later and you were almost at the end of the trail, ahead of schedule but what was to be expected from two pro athletes.

It was the last night, you and Christen wanted to watch the sunset one last time before heading back to reality.

You both sat on the blanket taking in the sights in front of you.

“Thank you Y/N” Chris begins to say “I really needed this. To be away from our hectic lives, to deal with my grief and to find myself again”

“I love you Christen, more than anything in this world. I would do anything for you because your happiness is everything to me”

You stand up.

“Before you all I knew was soccer but you showed that life has more to offer. When we met I knew your were special and I knew that I wanted to have in my life in any way I could. You are my first thought in a morning and my last one on a night. I first told you I loved you when when we won the world cup for a reason, because even though we were just crowned world champions all I could think about was you, I knew that from there on out it was you or nothing. I cannot imagine my life without you in it”

You get down on one knee and open the ring box causing Christen to gasp.

“Where did you get that?”

“I asked for your mum’s permission before she passed, the next day she gave me this and I promised her that no one will work harder to make you happy or cherish you more than me” You explain.

“Christen Annemarie Press, will you marry me?”

“Yes Y/N L/N I will marry you”

You kiss her with every fibre of your being, the kiss growing more passionate with every passing second.

Christen Press was your future and you could wait to spend the rest of your life with her.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt one shot #uswnt imagine #christen press imagine #christen press x reader #christen press one shot

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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All The Colors

Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Colorblindness, Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Romance, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: The colors are not always seen but rather felt. Just like Y/N feels the colors through their best friend and boyfriend Corpse. That’s how they realize that what they can’t see is the most beautiful and genuine feeling in the world. The feeling of knowing something and someone so deeply.

Requested by my dear friend Lulu, who you might have known as greenieofshield. Unfortunately she’ll never get to read this fic and I’ll never forgive myself for not putting it out sooner but I’ll also never forgive the universe for being so cruel as to take her away so early. She was one of the best people I’ve ever met, always so full of optimism, always there to brighten up my day and make me smile. Always so strong and brave, never falling victim to the hate she received despite not being deserving of it. The world lost an angel the day she died and I as well as so many other people will forever miss her.

Love you and miss you with my whole soul and hear, Lulu. Hope they’re treating you right in heaven ❤

For what it’s worth, Y/N has never asked people to describe the colors to them. In their eyes that seemed like the equivalent of poorly patching up a wound: they could hear thousands upon thousands of descriptions of each color and still wouldn’t be able to imagine it. The descriptions would only make that worse to them. So to avoid feeling even more like they’re missing out they never asked.

However, that doesn’t mean they haven’t developed their own way to ‘visualize’ and imagine colors throughout the years. They’ve tried loads of different methods, few of which stuck around and not for long either. That is exactly why they frequently used to tell their friends: “You can’t paint me a rainbow with black and white and shades of grey and expect me not to feel like I’m missing out on something. Paint me the gloomy sky on a rainy day and only then we’ll be even cause you’re seeing the same greys I am.”

Little did they know how drastically their logic was about to change in the following years.

Speaking of said following years - they met Corpse who became one of their best friends in practically no time. And within just a few months of that friendship’s blossoming, a romance sparked. A romance their friends would jokingly refer to as ‘romance of a lifetime’. Maybe it was said jokingly but Lord knows they weren’t wrong in saying so because the two were completely head over heels for one another -s till are to this day - and never shied away from showing it.

Y/N and Corpse met through Rae who Y/N was staying with while on a little vacation to Los Angeles. To be even more specific here, the two met through a game of Among Us, the game responsible for many wonderful friendships since its release.

“Guys, guys, guys.“ Y/N said after sparking up a bickering session for falsely accusing ‘blue‘ of faking a task in Navigation during the final round for the day, “Here’s a little rule of thumb for whenever we play together again: don’t trust me if I accuse a color instead of a name.“ It’s safe to say that statement rose a few eyebrows in the Discord call, the confusion serving as amusement to them before they explained themself, “Oh, why that is? Hm, I don’t know, maybe cause I’m colorblind.”

Rae who was in on the scheme the whole time and was struggling to hold in her laughter finally snapped while the rest of the players were left processing the information that had been dropped on them.

“But you practically kicked our ass every single round?!“ Corpse said, amazement and confusion in his tone.

“Expect the unexpected from this schemer, take it from someone who’s known them for a decade now.“ Rae said, winking at her friend from across the room. Not failing to notice the blush on their cheeks while doing so though.

“Corpse, are you calling me a good liar?“ They poked a stick at him teasingly, desperately avoiding Rae’s gaze which widened the second she realized why her friend was so flustered by Corpse’s remark.

“Practically a con artist.“ He replied to them with a laugh, earning one from them in return.

And so they practically conned him into falling in love with them with their quick wit, sarcasm and cuteness. If someone is to ask Corpse if he expected to fall for Y/N, he’d probably say yes.

“They were like a magnet the moment they entered the lobby and started talking.“ He said once on a live stream in response to a question he received in the chat regarding Y/N, “It wasn’t hard at all, falling for them. What took me a while was realizing it. While I was referring to them as ‘best friend’ all my friends were rolling their eyes and going ‘Sure, bud.’ Just took me a bit to realize why.”

Luckily, it didn’t take him too long to grasp what his heart was actually screaming at him. Good thing they came to terms with it so soon too, otherwise they would’ve driven their friends insane.

Anyway, enough about what happened and what could’ve happened under one circumstance or another, what matters is the ‘here and now’ of their relationship. And trust me when I say it has never been better and it keeps getting better every day.

The beauty of what those two have is in the tiny every day things that they do for each other, the good morning texts even though the other person in probably just in the kitchen making breakfast while the other cannot find it in them to get out of bed; or it’s laced within the calls between them when neither of them are home or at least one of them is out and about, busy with a task they’ve probably been putting off for far too long. Don’t get me wrong though, the romantic gestures aren’t rare either. Random gifts are exchanged by them on regular intervals but one consistent and super romantic gesture that repeats a few times every year (of the two years they’ve been dating) is Corpse giving Y/N a bouquet of flowers.

A detail Y/N couldn’t help but take notice of was the fact that the bouquet was always made up of the same flowers with only small changes to the arrangement of them and maybe some tiny ones added too. Unfortunately, they aren’t artificial so they couldn’t have kept them thought they wish they could’ve. That being said, it goes without saying that those flowers mean the world to Y/N, the gesture actually - they know flowers are a common gift to give but anything they receive from Corpse is so special and makes them feel like the only person who’s ever received such a gift.

And so they got curious, they had to ask. They had to ask the question they never thought they’d actively ask considering their view of the topic. But they still did.

“Hey Corpse.“ Y/N spoke up out of the blue, breaking the silence that had fallen over them while they watched the movie they were only partially interested in given how exhausted they both were from devoting themselves to their respective tasks and responsibilities throughout the last few days.

Corpse hummed in response, the arm wrapped around their waist doing a little motion as if encouraging them to continue, his gaze immediately traveling down to his partner.

“What color are the flowers?“ They asked, gazing at the bouquet - a gift they had received from him for their birthday a few days prior - in the vase on the dining table.

They waited a few seconds but when they didn’t hear nor feel any sort of response from him they couldn’t help but look up at him. Upon doing so, they saw his small smile as his eyes too remained on the bouquet. “They’re black and white.“ He replied eventually, “Black roses and white daffodils.“ His gaze wandered away from the vase and down to meet theirs, “I don’t want you to think I’m seeing them in their ‘full beauty’ while you only see them in black and white. You are seeing them in their full beauty and not missing out on anything. They are absolutely beautiful black and white as they are.“

As a response to his answer, Y/N couldn’t suppress the growing smile on their face no matter how hard they tried. So they didn’t try at all, they let the smile lighten up their face before speaking up: “You’re a wonder, Corpse.” They said, pushing themself as upright as they could to be able to kiss his cheek. “However, you’re wrong.” They say when they pull away, smirking up at his confused expression, “My world was black and white until you came into it. You’re all the colors, Corpse. Your love’s red, joy’s yellow, sadness blue, chaos green. Love red. You’re all the colors and out of all the people that have tried to describe to me how they look, you have managed to do that just perfectly without even trying.”

Little did they know that’s exactly what he thinks of them - their world is black and white because all the colors live within them. Because they are all the colors.

And maybe they both are, seeing as how they came into each other’s lives exactly like the rainbow after the pouring rain.

@maat-the-prescriptive @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @itsminniekat @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat @idontknowwhatthisisfam @evi-ka @classyandfabulous00 @redperson58 @lilysdaydreams @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite @axen-gers @luckygirl144 @nj01 @buddyemily @the-albino-lioness @stardream14 @gdhdkfnn @nomadicgypsyy @preciousskye @fluffysuicideunicornsworld @o-kaelin @manacharlotte @awkward-youtube-trash @lolalee24 @bonky-beerns @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian @strawbrinkofdeath @teenloves @tams0527 @browneyespinkhair @starstruckllamapuppy @daisychains012 @y0ulooked @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life @jula-pauline @melodykitty @just-that-bi-girl @crazybutconfidentaf @lowellshade @alphakees @bellero @weallneednamjesus @starryhanji @boiled-onionrings @husherstan @fockingwhore @melaningoddessthings @prettypastelpetals @haleypearce @godwhyamiawkward @y-napotat @daisychainyoonmin @little-miss-rebel3 @free-wheelin-bi-sexual @redmoon261 @darkacademic2 @wiseflamingoqueen @into-the-end @namikhai-i @nastiablr @thelittleplantlover @mirktuan @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny @vintagegothlover @easygoingtheatre @itsrandombooklover @miiaivi @emmybaybee @befourgolden @jjk-is-my-shit @eternalteaaars @spacebadgerx @princesslunalight @acequinn14 @samm48 @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa @fo-love @marishimomura-blog @therealglenncoco @cinnamonbun332 @killtherandomness @sanshinexxxsan @fee-btheweeb @press-lay @cathleenpotgieter16 @jazzydoesstuff @moonlxghtbay @forestrain2000 @hyunjinhugs @blood-of-fandoms @lovellylies @ukiyolixx @simpforhpcharacters @chrisdylan17 @parkerjisung @pedernille @theodonyous @wineandionysus @malfoystilinskii05 @morbid-x @coryisagee @jessewa26 @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365 @raeanneinwonderland @indecisive-empanada @gluttonypalace @loriane2503 @btsiguess-kpop @khaoticbunny @lucidlycactus @smiithys @rottenroyalebooks @kpopgirlbtssvt @fangirl-tc27 @fr0z3n-1 @notmesimpingfortechno @shotarosleftpinky @kunoi-chan @idk-whats-wrong-with-me @yikeroonie @goldenstarofthunderclan @poetry-and-tea @ama-do-writing-stuff @wishbonewolf @emeraldxhope @t0xick1tty @kusuinko @speakyourselfloveyourself @sophia902103 @lo-manburg @classsykittykat @dmgama @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee @btsiguess-kpop @akaashi-baby @gun-jong-simp @geschichtenfee @yerapotato-wp @browneyedgirl365 @thysagclub @sparklycloudnight @helloatomicshadow @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal @lucy-bunny17 @aaliyahh0 @katluckybear @boyleanti @straybids @franchesca-791 @cosmicstorm19 @averyisbackinthetrashcan @aomi-nabi @xlanawriter @allensimpsforcorpse @sunnyrae-cessh @ladykxxx08 @meowiemari @renupf @booklover76 @sra-verissimo @beatrhizn @blueberrystigma @beatrhizn

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1purpleboi1 · 3 years

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Cute Kisses with the Haikyuu Boys Pt. 2

With Kenma, Oikawa, Bokuto, and Kuroo

Part 1

Requests open

Kenma:

Kenma would spend HOURS in a Minecraft world setting everything up

He would line a river he found with lanterns to make it “romantic” kenma, Minecraft isn’t romantic

Kuroo would totally know about the world and Kenma’s elaborate plan

As much as it made Kenma want to throw up, he had to invite Kuroo to the server to help set up and make sure everything was up to par

But Kenma would totally forget to kick Kuroo from the server when the special time comes

Kenma would take you on a classy boat ride through the river, lit with lanterns and flowers lining the water

The trip would end with a rly cheesy sign

“Will you be my player 2?”

Ikikik it’s cliche but I don’t think Kenma would put in the brain energy to think of his own way to ask you out with a gaming joke

As he leans in to kiss you, a message pops up in the chat from Kuroo-

“SURPRISE SHAWTY!” But then he says “WAIT- I’m too young to be an uncle”

Thanks a bunch Kuroo

Oikawa:

My man has watched Lady and the Tramp too many times just for this moment

Oikawa has thought EVERYTHING through, twice

He has the rest of the third years promise to not be suspicious when he asks you, their darling manager to go to eat ramen with them

Once you’re there Oikawa suggests you two sharing a large bowl of ramen (smooth Oikawa, smoooth)

He as Makki and Mattsun pretend to be scrolling on TikTok when the moment comes just to get that Instagram worthy photo

they’re “scrolling” for almost the whole bowl of ramen when finally they see the one strand of ramen that is in BOTH of your mouths

Finally, FINALLY the moment Oikawa has been waiting for has come and you two go slurping the noodles until ur lips touch

Cue the Office quote “OMG ITS HAPPENING EVERYBODY STAY CALM!”

Too bad Makki and Mattsun were taking a selfie right when it happened

When Oikawa finds out he makes them run the whole practice

Bokuto:

YOU CANNOT TELL ME HE WOULDNT BE A DISNEY STAN

He would’ve seen allll of the Disney princess movies and would know the Frozen soundtrack by heart

So when you two are watching the movie are you guys watching or just singing?

When the song, Love is an Open Door starts playing you two would totally reenact the whole song

The dance moves too

I mean line by line, every note, you guys are in time and in key-

Once Hans and Anna finally kiss, you do too

And like ITS SO FRICKING CUTE I MEAN WITH THE FROZEN AND ITS BOKUTO?? AHHH!!

Kuroo:

It’s the end of practice and you, Nekoma’s perfect manager, are cleaning up the bottles, putting balls away, all that good stuff

When LEV “accidentally” shoves your back

But LEV HOW OBVIOUS CAN YOU BE WITH UR LONG ASS ARMS.

I mean he wassss bribed by Kuroo with a free pass from practicing his receives

And with Lev’s long rope arms shoving you, you’re falling

But you don’t land on the ground, you land in Kuroo’s chest

KUROO catches you and gives the most CLICHE pick up line with his weird chemistry smirk-

“Falling for me already?”

Bish no?? Lev pushed us??

You’re all about to say some great retort when all of a sudden he kisses you??!!

And the whole team would’ve been shocked that their nerdy captain finally shot his shot but they were all in it

Do you reallllyyy think he could’ve come up with that all by himself??

Fukunaga is recording the whole thing, but with extra commentary

Anyways, hope y’all enjoyed!

Masterlist

Make sure you vote here!

#haikyuu #oikawa #hq reader #hq #hq headcanons #haikyuu senarios #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #oikawa x reader #Kuroo x reader #kenma x reader #bokuto x reader #Kenma #Kuroo #bokuto #nekoma manager #aoba josai x reader #toru oikawa x reader #testurou kuroo x reader

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bokutoslittlebird · 3 years

Note

My brain told me I need something angsty, fluffy but also spicy today✋🏼 So uh could you pls write a small scenario where Iwa, Satori and Bokuto sees their s/o with someone who is actually flirting with them and they think that their s/o is cheating? Because its mostly where the reader thinks that the boys are cheating and I thought it would be interesting if its different this time 👀

Ngl anon reading this made my heart hurt a bit esp Bokuto I’m sensitive when it comes to him 😣 but only Tendō’s isn’t fluffy. I tried to make the other ones a bit fluffy. Mostly angst and spice. Bit of hcs + drabble mix again.

Hints of possessiveness, implied spiciness, Tendō has no shame

Miscommunication

Iwaizumi

> It’s Oikawa’s fault, as usual. He got sick the day before he promised to go with his sister to some orchestra show and to sightsee. It was supposed to be a bonding day for them, but he came down with the flu and Iwaizumi was kindly volunteered to take his place. As in Oikawa begged him.

> It was fine, they got ice cream afterwards and she wanted to take a picture to remember the day. He took the picture and sent it to the group chat, letting Oikawa know his sister was having fun. The boys all laughed and congratulated Iwaizumi for going on a date with such a “bombshell”, as Makki said.

> You think it was an accident, which makes the pain sting more. He’d share his cheating with his friends so easily, it’s sickening. You immediately shut off your phone after that, deciding to not deal with it.

> The next day, when Iwaizumi goes to greet you, you continue walking. It’s something everyone notices, but nobody says anything. Makki and Mattsun give each other similar looks of ‘oh shit’ while Oikawa is still missing.

> Once Oikawa is back to proper shape, you welcome him back with a big hug. It’s the most emotion you’ve shown all week and Iwaizumi gets pissed. He continues to ignore you, though. He finds it hard to continue, though, when you start flirting with Oikawa.

> Mattsun fills Oikawa in on the situation while a plan forms in Iwaizumi’s head. He knows he did something wrong, but what? He decides to apologize anyways. Not having you talk to him was putting him on edge, worrying him.

> The next day, Oikawa tells you Iwaizumi won’t be attending since he’s busy. At first, you got worried, but when Oikawa winked at you, your face felt hot as anger boiled. You figured it would come to this, but it still hurts more than you thought. Then, Oikawa tells you he forgot his knee pad and could you go get it for him. As the helpful manager, you oblige. It’s not like anyone is in the locker room.

“What’s this?” Your voice cracks as you stare at Iwaizumi. He’s standing in the room, holding flowers and an apology note. His face is a dark shade of pink, his eyes glancing at you before going back to the floor.

“An apology. I’m sorry for being a bad boyfriend,” he says, clearly and cleanly. His palms are sweaty, but he is able to at least speak properly. “I don’t know what I did—“

“Oh, please. You’re tired of me, I get it. You don’t have to go apologizing on my account. Shouldn’t you be with the brunette girl?” You feel hot tears streaming down your face, quickly wiping them away as Iwaizumi looks at you, dumbfounded.

“Brunette— do you mean Shittykawa’s sister?” A confused look crosses your face as he groans, running a hand down his face. “Fuck, I forgot to tell you. Shittykawa made me fill in for him and go sightseeing with his sister. He didn’t ask before telling her, but she watched over us as kids, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to just hang out. I didn’t think it’d be a big deal,”

“Not a big deal, Hajime? Not a big deal? I honestly thought you were bragging! It didn’t help Makki was all like ‘oh man she’s so hot’ in the chat!” Tears are freely falling now, as your blink away the blurriness. “I thought you had just gotten tired of me,”

“Baby, no, never,” he shushes you, hugging you. It’s nice to be talking to him, wrapped in his arms. It’s a sweet and tender moment, relaxing in his hold as he whispers apologies and sweet nothings into your hair, shifting on the balls on his feet as you follow suit. It’s not until you’re pressed against the cold metal of the lockers do you look at him. His face sports a familiar look, one that always has your knees buckling to his command.

“Hajime, not now,” you whimper, feeling his warm hands sliding underneath your shirt. Had you been in your uniform, you’d most likely have his hand down your panties right now. He just presses a kiss to your temple, hands moving the waistband of your pants.

“I gotta remind you that I’m all yours, baby. And you’re all mine, so don’t ever go flirting with Shittykawa again,” he growls out, sending heat down to your core.

Tendō

> So first off, your relationship with him is on the down-low as in the only person outside the relationship who knows is Ushijima because Tendō cannot keep a secret from his BFF. You wanted it to be a secret because you did like him when he confessed, but your friends would tease you for dating him. Coach Washijo didn’t allow his player to date, so it was a secret relationship.

> However, when a girl ended up flirting with Tendō because she wanted a free pass to see the games, you wished it wasn’t so secretive. He was obviously flirting with her, enjoying the attention, while you listened from the girls’ bathroom. When he called her a “pretty lady” though? You felt your world shatter. He never called you that.

> The following practice, you passed by the gymnasium doors to see that girl standing outside them. A brief glance in her direction before continuing on your way, back to the dorms. You didn’t text Tendō the rest of the day.

> Tendō was frantically looking for you, wondering what he did wrong. When that girl was outside the gym and not you, he panicked. It was lunchtime, so he expected you to be in your class. When he got there, you were gone.

> He asked your friends, but they didn’t give him an answer, asking him “why does it matter?” So he went back to perusing the halls, looking for your familiar hair color or your voice. He heard a male’s voice first. Then your laugh.

> Turning a corner, he saw your hand on some guy’s bicep, a smile on your face. He recognized the stranger as the dude who tried to date every girl in his grade. Why were you talking to him? Another giggle had him moving towards the two of you.

“Why don’t you and I, I don’t know, meet up for some drinks after school? There’s a good milkshake joint nearby,” he grins, flashing his bright teeth. It would make most girls keel to his demands, but you’re different.

“Oh, I’d love to—“

“But she’s my girlfriend, loser,” Tendō sneers, his hand gripping your elbow as he drags you away.

“Tendō-san, what are you doing?” You attempt to resist his pulling, but he doesn’t let up. “I thought I was barely a classmate to you,”

“Yeah, well who gave you the right to flirt with some fuck boy?” He looks down at you, anger flashing across your face. The guy is still standing there, watching.

“Oh, I figured I wasn’t a priority to you. After all, you called that other bitch a ‘pretty girl’, so what’s up? I don’t get a cute name like that, except ‘girlfriend’?” You wrench your arm free. “Leave me alone, Tendō. Go to that other girl,”

“You mean Hana? Ōno Hana? The girl who’s crushing on Wakatoshi-kun?” He raises a brow. “As if she’d like me. I was complimenting her because she was anxious about talking to Wakatoshi-kun,”

“Well, it didn’t seem like that. I listened to the conversation. Leave me alone,”

“Why would I want her when I have a perfect little girl in front of me? Who else could trust me enough to bind them so tight, or who could cream on my fingers so easily?” He smirks as your face gets hot. A swift smack to his chest is useless when he turns to the guy, holding your arms. He maneuvers you to face the guy, smushing your cheeks together. “Tell him who you’re a good girl for, because it’s not gonna be him,”

“Tendō, this is so awkward,” your muffled voice comes out, dealing with his fingers pushing your lips together. “I’m not gonna say it,”

“Then he can watch as you cream on my fingers. Front row show, you know?” He snickers, moving his hand off your face and moving it underneath your skirt. A brief flash of your underwear towards the boy has you submitting properly, squirming as you practically shout what Tendō wanted you to say. “See, not that hard? Oh look— he’s running away! I hope he enjoyed the show!” Tendō waves happily, smiling all the while. You’re finally released from his hold.

“What is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with you? Thinking you can go be a whore?”

“You want the relationship on the down-low! You wanted it to be a secret!”

“Well, if that means boys think you’re available, we’ll have to change that, won’t we?” He smirks, once again dragging you off. As he heads towards a closet, you know you’re not going back to class with steady legs.

Bokuto

> It was unusual for Bokuto to miss practice, so the managers and Akaashi were asking if you had seen him. You had not, but offered to go looking while everyone else started practice. Akaashi thanked you, leaving to fill in for his missing captain.

> Roaming the school, you checked the bathrooms to see if he was in there and even checked the classrooms to see if he fell asleep. When you didn’t find him, you went through checking the halls only to find him walking next to some girl with his arm around her shoulder. The scene hurt you, but a part of you knew he wouldn’t ditch practice and cheat on you, it was not in his nature.

> When the girl laughed at one of his jokes, you felt tears prick your eyes and ran off, back to the gymnasium where Akaashi was the first to greet you. You explained what you saw, after he took you to sit down on the bench, while the team continued. He said it probably wasn’t what it seemed like, but the scene kept replaying in your mind.

> The next day, you didn’t meet him on the roof for your normal lunch date so he got worried. Bokuto can usually read your moods, since you wear your heart on your sleeve, but he hadn’t seen you at all. He went looking for you, ignoring the strange looks he got as he ran through the hallways. Once he got to your class, he expected you to be sitting at your desk. Instead, he turned to your friends for help.

> One of them mentioned a dark haired student invited her to eat with him in his class and after he got a description, he went looking for the mystery man. He thought it might have been Akaashi, but he didn’t have brown eyes and a mole beside his right eye. It was finding a needle in a haystack, looking in each class until he saw your familiar hair color sitting in an unfamiliar class.

> He just kind of looked at you and the stranger through the window, watching as you laughed at the guy’s jokes. It was the same laugh you used at his jokes. It made an strange feeling in his chest burn, it made him jealous. Walking inside the classroom, you continued talking to the boy as he moved behind you.

> You closed your eyes for a moment but when you opened them, you saw the boy’s face drop as a shadow loomed over you. Looking behind you, you saw your boyfriend standing behind you. “Whatcha doing?” He asked. His voice seemed to be bright and cheerful, normal to the innocent bystander. To you, with the fake smile on his face, it sent shivers down your spine as you looked up at him.

> He wanted to talk to you alone, a hand on your back as he guided you to the stairs leading to the roof. You tried to ask him questions, but he didn’t answer. He didn’t turn to look at you. He just stared forward as anger simmered in his chest and his eyes.

> Once the roof door had shut, you were roughly pushed against it as his eyes finally met yours. His eyes bore into you, demanding an answer.

“What’s wrong?”

“Why were you flirting with him? Do you no longer love me? Did I do something wrong? Are you tired of me?” As his questions poured out, the anger in his eyes melted into sadness, guilt forming into a ball on your chest. His hair drooped down as he put on his pouty face. “Do you wanna break up?”

“N-No! Not unless you want to, that is. I saw your arm around that g-girl in the hallway. I—“ you gulped, unshed tears on your lashes, catching the sunlight as you look at him. “I thought you were tired of me,”

“Why would I be tired of you? You’re the love of my life!” He shouts, you flinching as his booming voice made your ears ring. He apologizes, hugging you tightly into his chest. You do a heaving motion, fighting back the tears as his words play on loop in your mind. “I could never see anyone replacing you in my life,”

“That’s nice, Bo,” you mumble, rubbing your nose into his chest. It’s warm and comforting, a nice contrast to the brisk wind in the autumn air. When he moves, you look up to see him grinning at you, a glint in his eyes. “What are you thinking?”

“We’re all alone and obviously my little bird needs to remember just who she belongs to,” he murmurs, rubbing his nose against yours before he quickly drops to his knees. It’s a sudden movement, his face in front of your skirt and then it’s under your skirt, a leg hooked over his shoulder. He’ll make sure you’re screaming his name before lunchtime is over.

#haikyuu x reader #BB.Kinky #tw.possessiveness #Mr. Kōtarō #Mr. Hajime #Mr. Satori #bokuto x reader #iwaizumi x reader #tendou x reader #BB.Requests #BB.Angst #BB.Floof #Iwaizumi.hcs #Bokuto.hcs #Tendō.hcs #haikyuu smut #ish

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tobi-momo · 3 years

Text

THE SETTER'S HELP | EPILOGUE — FINALLY GOOD ENOUGH

PAIRING: Kageyama Tobio x Volleyball Player! Reader

SYNOPSIS: With a big game coming up, the confidence in your setting has gone down significantly. Knowing the setter on the Karasuno boy’s volleyball club is good at what he does, you ask him for help. Will he help you build your confidence and skills or will he just tear it down more?

GENRE: Romance | Fluff | Some Crack | Angst | Hurt/Comfort

CHAPTER WARNINGS: public makeout ??? also- super short I'm so sorry

TAGLIST: CLOSED!

WORD COUNT: 900+

MASTERLIST

Ah, a refreshing breath, it was. The chilled breeze raising the hairs on your skin and the sweet smell of a fresh cut lawn entering your senses. The sound of birds singing to each other perks your ears and the soft, gentle touch of the pads of his fingers grazing your arm leaves a tingling trail atop your supple skin.

He lays beside you on the picnic blanket that sprawls across the dry crabgrass, his head held up by his palm that balances on it’s elbow, his hair casting a moving shadow on your face below him when the air drags the strands back and forth. His eyes were concentrated, fixating on the light that reflected off the different shades of your iris’.

“Tobio?” Your whisper flows into his hearing and his eyelashes flick back into focus when you softly call his name.

“Hm.”

His fingers are pulled your way the moment your hand takes his grasp, tugging them to the front of your vision. The hot trail of your skin against his creates a smirk barely visible on his lips. His head covers the sun, light shining around him as if he was glowing. You mean, maybe he was, but it was beautiful either way. Your fingers play with his while you nail your sight onto your actions to “distract” yourself from future embarrassment when you mutter: “I love you.”

You didn’t quite see it, as you were avoiding the look on his face, but you felt the atmosphere change once the words left your lips, his movements stuttering and a chopped breath hitching in his throat. You wince at the anticipation, grimacing when you expect rejection.

“You love me?” He asks with curiosity, disbelief. His head backed up a little, his indecisive, furrowed eyebrows scanning your flushed features. Your nod is hesitant and silent, almost regretful.

“Um,” you start, nervous, “yeah, I d—”

Woah. It was sweet, something you’d want to taste forever. When he slammed his lips on yours, a gasp left you, but now as you let him melt into you, nothing seemed to disrupt you. There was nothing around you— it was blank. You and he lay on the ground by yourselves in an empty space, your eyes closing simultaneously and your hands palming his face with a draw to pull him closer. He complies, leaning his body into yours from above, planting a hand on the other side of you to hold himself up. Your lips felt so magical against his, molding with each other perfectly as your heads tilt to make more room for the addicting taste. The moment your lips disconnected once, he didn’t hesitate to dip back in once more, needing to just relish in your gratifying lips another time.

Oh. You sound pretty, too. An audible breath runs from your throat, escaping your lips and diving straight into his mouth, where he swallows it with an inhale. How come he’s never experienced this before? Where have you been? And how come he’s never tasted anything like this before? He’s sure he’s addicted— he’s sure he’ll never be able to stop stealing this from you, siphoning the flavor and savoring it for the rest of his life.

You were sure you could say the same, by the way the sugary hint of his kiss forced you to take more. You were getting a little too comfortable on the picnic blanket, you notice, when his knee slots in between your legs. His body hovers above yours and his hair prickles your forehead before you mutter pauses into his mouth and you hold his shoulders to take his lips off yours.

Confusion leaked from his face when he looked at you from above, his head dipping to the side. “What is it? Oh,” he makes a face of realization, zapping himself up in a sitting position. You frantically shake your head while chasing his movements, tugging on the wrist that floats to the back of his neck with a raging blush on his cheeks.

“No, no, no, no, no, nothing like that, Tobi, I promise,” you smile. He looks down before returning it, a tiny smirk painting his lips. “It’s just that, you know, we’re in public…”

He looks around, the old, worn net that hangs off the rusted metal poles that stick up diagonally from the ground sticking out to him, and the empty bench on the other side of it catching his eye. “I don’t see anyone,” he justifies, turning back to you.

“Well, no, but we’re still ou— Tobio,” you giggle, running your fingers through his black locks when his lips smack onto your neck, tingles upon tingles fluttering around your nerves. You fall back, his chuckles creating hot pools on your neck when he falls with you. His lips eventually separate from your skin, unfortunately, but you didn’t dislike it when he wrapped his pinky with yours beside you.

“I love you too.” Your head whips to his side with surprise. He only mumbled it shyly, but you heard it just as loud as anything else.

He loves you.

You love him.

You were good enough for him. Good enough to have a place in his heart, good enough to always be at the front of his mind, good enough to talk to him, to touch him, to kiss him, to love him. It amazed you. You were finally good enough.

“Wanna practice a little bit? Shoyo won’t come today, says his sister needed help with something,” he continues, not paying any mind to your awed eyes. “Oh, by the way. Happy one year, Y/n.”

“Yeah,” you say, taking his hands when he offers to pull you up, walking to the right side of the net. A smile appeared on your face. “Happy one year.”

A/N: oh my god its finally over I'm so sad now- i wrote this fic bc I was insecure about my volleyball skills and I cannot believe its gotten to this point with whole ass chapters omg- i knew it was gonna be short, I never wanted it to be long, but wow. i really hope everything was tied in together well and that everything made sense yk bc if it didn't thats kind of embarrassing but wtv- i love you guys thank you for reading <3

TAGLIST IN REBLOGS

(reblogs are VERY appreciated <3)

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honeypirate · 3 years

Text

Feet First

Obi Akitaru and Fem!Waitress reader

“His face smiles when he’s tense, he can’t help it” the man with the glasses says as you bring over more drinks. They were already a few in and were so far your favorite table of your shift. They were talkative and joking around, you loved it.

You tuck your drink tray under your arm and place your elbow on the high table, resting your chin on your palm as you gazed at the young man with a smile and unblinking eyes.

The handsome biggest man in the middle, the famous Captain of the Fire Force 8th division, stares at you with a grin and stars in his eyes “is that so?” you ask softly and lean in closer to the young man, hoping to see if it was true. You watched as the corners of his mouth twitched a few times as he tried to control it, you lean in farther and he can feel your soft breath hitting him as his face tenses into a smile.

You start laughing along with the handsome man in the middle, the one with glasses just takes a drink of his beer. “Sorry kid, I had to see it” he just nods, his cheeks turning as pink as his eyes.

“I think it’s really cute though. Dont worry” you wink at him before looking into the eyes of the one you were currently crushing hard for “do you guys need anything else right now?” you smile at him and his cheeks start to flush a little from your gaze “no, we’re good for now. thanks ..” he looks at your name tag, like he hasn’t known your name this entire time, “thanks y/n” you nod and turn around, heading back to the bar for more drinks for your other tables, feeling his eyes on you had made you grateful for wearing your good jeans tonight.

“Did you see who's at my table 12?” you whisper to your best friend and co-waitress, Jane. She slyly looks over your shoulder and then leans into your shoulder with a whispered squeal “oh my god y/n they are all so handsome, that one in the middle is SCRUMPTIOUS and aren't they..?” you nod “fire soldiers. I’m thinking about giving the one in the middle my number” she chuckles and her eyes widen in recognition “dude do it! That’s Captain Obi! He’s looked back at you like 50 times already”

You feel your cheeks warm up as you place the drink glasses on your tray and hold it above your shoulder as you turn back around, making eye contact with the Captain.

You smile at him and wink then smile harder, butterflies making your stomach flutter when his cheeks turn pink. You walk over to a different table, setting down the drinks and taking food orders, popping your hip out just a little extra because of their table directly behind you.

When you walked back to the bar and kitchen you set another glance over your shoulder at the Captain who was watching you, grinning when he winks at you this time. You feel your heart skip and you stick your tongue out at him just a little making him laugh.

After ten minutes of dealing with some kitchen problems you’re back out at their table “Here are your nachos and cheese fries” you place between them, all three moaning as they take bites immediately, not even waiting for the plates to touch the table. “You’re burgers will all be out shortly”

you chuckle as you set down the drink refills as well “thank you beautiful” Captain says and your cheeks flush “calling a girl beautiful when she doesn't even know your name, it doesn't feel right to me” you grin up at him and he returns it

“Obi Akitaru, now can i call you beautiful?” you nod with a flirty smirk “you can call me tonight if you want” he almost chokes on his drink and the kid next to him beats on his back a few times.

Guy with the glasses who you’ve heard been called Hinawa, just rolls his eyes and puts another chip in his mouth. If you spent long enough looking at him you’d realize how jealous he was, but you didn’t, your eyes easily found Obi again as you waiting for his response.

“yes! I would like that a lot ” his words stumble out and you chuckle, taking out your pad of paper and pen writing out your name and number with a small heart “here is my number. I look forward to hearing from you Obi” your fingers brush his when you hand him the paper and then you turn and head back into the kitchen for your other orders.

Hinawa rolls his eyes so hard it hurt.

You feel your phone immediately buzz in the front pocket of your apron and you chuckle as you slip into the back fridge to check. sure enough it’s from a new number asking when you get off work. You send back “45 minutes, what do you wanna do tonight Obi?” you squeal as you exit the fridge and go find Jane who was now sitting in her closed section because she got cut and closed.

You tell her everything and she quietly cheers for you before you have orders up to deliver, noticing someone else has dropped the burgers at their table.

After the dinner rush slows down, and you get a little more time, you notice the two other guys with him leave. you finish talking to your boss before going over to their table and clear off some of the plates “are your friends coming back?” you ask and he chuckles “no they’re going home, now i’m just waiting on you, doll” you grin as your cheeks warm again, your heart skipping as you refill his water glass

“15 minutes then I’m all yours” you heft the tray to your shoulder now covered in empty plates and glasses “i’m really looking forward to it.”

he hands you the black book with the bill and cash in it “ready whenever you are” you shove the book in your front pocket and laugh “see you in a bit” you say before walking back into the kitchen with a smile on your face and excitement in your veins.

You finish your silverware rolling and cleaning in the back, before sweeping your section and wiping off tables, making small talk with Obi whenever you are around him. Talking about when you started working there and how he hasn’t ever seen you since he’s been coming here for years.

You shrugged “i don’t know how you haven’t noticed me, I notice your handsome self every time you come in” you say and make eye contact with him smiling. Watching as he gets so flustered he speechless for a moment. He’s not a player, you can tell from his actions that this is new for him, flirting and having it be successful, he could hardly believe it. It’s why he switched to water after one beer that his big stature hardly even felt but he wanted to be clear headed with you.

You wipe off his table and pick up his glass “I can meet you out front in five minutes” you say and he hops off his stool “Okay, i'll see you in a bit beautiful” he winks and walks towards the front of the house, looking if his shoulder and smiling every few steps.

Your section is checked, your jobs are checked, and your receipts and cash are checked before your boss opens the safe to give you your extra tips from cards. Obi had surprisingly left you a hefty tip but you still had a great night with all your other customers. You shove your apron into your bag and pull out a sweatshirt and perfume. You take your hair out from it’s low pony and put on your hoodie, spraying it with perfume so you don't smell like fried foods and beer, before heading out to see what Obi had in mind.

When you exit he is waiting by the front door, looking up into the night sky before looking at you and grinning. He pushes off the wall and holds his hand out and you take his hand without hesitation, making him smile warmly.

“so where are we going tonight captain?” you ask and he chuckles, giving your hand a squeeze “it’s a surprise” you laugh until you notice you’re walking towards a fire force truck “we’re going in that?” you ask and stop in your tracks. Obi laughs at your reaction and nods “of course” you beam and start to bounce on your toes “this is the BEST” you say before practically dragging him with you to his truck.

“Okay put on your seat belt” he says but you’re too enamored by the interior that you don't really register. He chuckles before reaching across you to grab the belt “‘huh?” you say as you see his arm but it quickly grabs the metal end and pulls it out, clicking it in palace “sorry” you say sheepishly and he smiles “you’re so adorable” he says and you grin, your cheeks flushing “thank you, you're not so bad yourself hot stuff” he chuckles, holding out his hand again for you to take it before he’s backing out of the parking space.

“A park?” you ask as you hop out form the truck, he was holding your door open and holding your hand, helping you down. He nods “a park on a big hill on a nice night where he can swing and talk” you smile wide, hardly believing this big sexy man was taking you to a park so you could talk and star gaze. It was perfect.

“Race ya” you say and take off towards the swings “no fair! You got a head start” he says laughing as he runs behind you. You grab on to a swing just a few seconds before he did “i won so that means you have to give me something” he laughs “what would you like?” you both sit down in the seats of your swings as you think “hmmm” you walk backwards until you are on your tiptoes before jumping up and swinging forward kicking your legs out “is it too early to ask you for a kiss?” you say, boldly, and he laughs “i don't think so” he says and you look over at him, swinging at the same speed in tandem “perfect. Then that's what I want you to give me tonight” you can feel your cheeks are warmer than ever but your heart feels like it was on a swingset of its own. You cannot believe how bold you’re being tonight.

“So tell me, Obi. what made you become a fire soldier?” you lean back as you swing high, watching the ground come up to you quickly, feeling like you were on a roller coaster. He chuckles at you and then says “I wanted to help people” you can tell there is more to it but don't press him, he’ll tell you when he feels comfortable with you. “Do you like working at the restaurant?” he asks and you let yourself naturally slow down as you stay leaned back “mmhmm! I meant to only be there as a part time thing to pay for school but I really enjoy interacting with people. I’ve graduated already and can get a job in my field at any moment but I’ll stay here as long as I get paid well.” You lean back up to sit normally and smile at him when you make eye contact.

“What’s your field?” he asks as you both slow down speed “I majored in Biochemistry with a minor in chemistry” you place your feet on the ground to stop yourself and twist so you were facing him, he does the same and you lean in close

“i’m also a second generation” you whisper and then pull back with a little smile. He has wide eyes and a smile “seriously?” he asks and you nod, pulling a lighter from your pocket you flick it and the fire flies into your palm, you make it dance around your finger tips before closing it inside your palm and putting it out. “Mostly party tricks. My parents didn't want anyone to know so as a kid I always hid it. It actually works really well in chemistry so once i was an adult i decided to use it freely. My parents were just worried and did what they thought was best.”

when you look back up into his eyes he’s looking at you with stars in his eyes again he leans forward, capturing your face in his large hands “god you’re amazing” he whispers “can I give you a kiss now?” he asks and you grin with a chuckle, nodding your head in his hands and he quickly but gently brushes your lips with his own.

When he pulls back you’re smiling softly up at him with eyes so sweet he feels his heart melt for you. “Do you like pancakes?” He asks and you chuckle with raised eyebrows ”pancakes?” You ask and he nods with a chuckle

“I love pancakes” you say and he grins “Wanna have breakfast with me in the morning?” He ask as he’s standing and pulling you with him, his arms wrapping around you as your swings wobble back into place.

“I’d love to get breakfast with you” you say and he leans down to kiss you again “youre so beautiful” he whispers against your lips then you push up on your toes and seal your lips against his.

Your hands bury into his hair as his tongue licks against yours, making you chuckle softly as his hands reaches down and gripped your ass, pulling you up against him as he kissed you hard.

“Breakfast” he said after he broke away and his hands rested softly on your neck, his forehead pressed to yours.

“9am. I’ll pick you up” he says and you chuckle, giving him a soft kiss before taking his hand “can you also take me home tonight?” You ask and he nods with a laugh “of course doll”

He opens the door to the truck and helps you in, lifting you up and placing your butt on the seat before he steps on the rail and kisses you again.

he hops down with a smile and walks away to his door, turning the key as you put your seatbelt on this time, reaching out for his hand at the same time he reaches for yours. He chuckles softly as you bring his hand to your lap, his stomach filling with warmth.

He walks you to your door and leans down to kiss you, soft and warm, making your heart flutter and your spine tingle as he hugged you to his chest.

“I’ll see you in the morning beautiful” he says and gives you one last peck before he heads back to his truck, blowing you a kiss as you wait by door, waving as he drives off.

You close the door to your apartment and sigh as you lean against it. It seems too good to be true but his eyes are so honest you can’t help but trust him. God what a man. Your fingers brush against your lips softly as you smile and head deeper into your apartment. You know you won’t be able to sleep tonight, not with him on your mind.

#obi akitaru x reader #obi akitaru x y/n #obi akitaru x you #obi x you #obi x reader #obi akitaru imagines #obi akitaru #fire force #fire force obi #fire force fluff #fire force fanfiction #Obi Akitaru fanfiction

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pucksnsticksnhockeyboys · 4 years

Text

bad ideas have good results

summary: you put yourself in the position for trouble the moment you agreed to be roommates with Mikko.

warnings: mentions of sex, like one swear, and worst of all—its unedited

word count: 3.4k

You knew it was a bad idea.

It was truly a terrible, horrible, awful idea.

But you were kind of desperate, so you threw your concerns to the wind and moved in with Mikko Rantanen.

It was beneficial to both of you, he had an extra room and with his busy schedule, you helped keep the place in one piece and took over some of the more domestic aspects. In return, you didn’t have to live on the streets—or worse yet, move back in with your parents.

At first, it was nice. Mikko was a total gentleman and an absolute sweetheart. It probably helped that you were friends with him before moving in, but you got along with him fantastically. Movie nights on the couch, dinners cooked together, you had even taken to writing him little notes of encouragement and leaving them where he’d see them before going on roadies or a particularly stressful game. You knew you were towing a dangerous line in your heart, suddenly seeing him in a less than platonic way more and more.

But then Andre insisted that everyone go to the bars to celebrate a decisive four-zero win over Vegas.

Mikko was more clingy that night, and though he usually kept a protective eye on you, he was practically glued to your side. And as the night went on and the drinks kept coming, the handsier Mikko got. His hand started innocently on your side, but halfway through the night it slipped low on your waist, and when you were in the back on an Uber together, it fell suspiciously high on your thigh. And by the time you made it back to your shared apartment, he was pulling you in the direction of his room. And as much as you wanted, you couldn’t blame him completely; you went willingly.

And you went willingly each time after it.

If you were unsure about your feelings for the blond before your friends with benefits relationship started, you knew for a fact now. You were head over heels for him. You didn’t miss the irony, how he was climbing into your bed nearly every night and cooking meals with you during the day, yet he still introduced you as his friend. The relationship that you so desperately wanted was so close, yet just out of your reach.

“You did this to yourself.”

“Thanks, Nina.” You huffed, sipping your mimosa dejectedly. Your friend wasn’t wrong, but you would have liked a little sympathy from her, considering brunch had been your idea. She just shrugged, an impish smile on her face.

“Seriously, what did you think would happen when you moved in with a ridiculously hot professional athlete? That you wouldn’t fall for him?” She continued, and you dropped your head into your hands in embarrassment. “You’ve been hooking up with him for weeks, of course you’d catch feelings.”

“I—” You started, but an entirely too familiar voice cut in, making your stomach twist and your heart jump into your throat.

“You’ve been hooking up with Mikko?” Mel Landeskog. Of course. She was grinning brightly at you, a mixture of shock and knowing on her face and a baby on her hip. You groaned, dropped your head back into your hands, again, because apparently you couldn’t have a nice brunch without being embarrassed countless times. “I knew it!”

“You cannot tell Gabe, like, under any circumstances.” Your voice was low and steady, and some of the mirth slipped from Mel’s expression. The idea of Gabe, or anyone really, finding out about the nature of your relationship with his teammate made your skin crawl.

One night, after he slipped into your bed for some post-loss activities to cheer him up, you had asked if he talked about you in the locker room with the other guys, the grotesque way they did in movies. He had scrunched his face up in confusion at the idea, assuring you that he never talked about you or anyone else that way, that what happened between you and him stayed between you and him. That was the moment, you decided, that you were officially screwed. The moment when you realized you had fallen for your roommate.

“So are you and Mikko dating?” Mel asked, a grin on her face that had you blushing. You shook your head quickly, watching as her gleeful expression melted into one of confusion. “Why not?”

“That’s what I’ve been saying.” Nina added in, and you shot her a pointed look. She knew very well why you weren’t dating Mikko—he didn’t see you as anything more than his roommate that he hooked up with often. It was a live-in friends with benefits arrangement, and you had a hard time seeing that he would want anything more than that with you.

“It’s just not like that.” You assured her with a tight lipped smile. You knew she had good intentions, but you really didn’t feel like discussing the nuances of your relationship—or lack of—with the captain’s wife.

“Well, I’ve got to go, I’m getting brunch with some friends.” Mel gestured loosely to another table filled with women her age. You smiled at her, bidding her goodbye and just as she turned to go back to her table, and a look of realization crossed her face as she remembered something. “Oh! The boys are coming back tonight, so tomorrow I’m throwing a dinner for everyone. You and Mikko better be there.”

After receiving your assurance that you’d be there, Mel smiled and left. You turned back to Nina, busying yourself with your drink, knowing that she certainly had some comment about what had just transpired. You tried to not think about how Mel instantly thought you were dating Mikko, as if she saw something deeper in your relationship with the Finn than you did.

“Well, we’re certainly going to talk about that later.” Nina assured you, and you tried your hardest to come up with a different topic to distract her.

It was late at night, when you were curled up on the couch, when Mikko returned.

You hated the way your heart skipped a beat as you heard the keys in the lock, the way your focus had been entirely removed from the show you had been watching, and how you moved to lean your back against the headrest in anticipation for what would come next. The blond always had a routine for when he came home after being away. He always searched you out after returning from road trips, whether or not they were successful, instead of heading to his room for some much needed sleep. You tried not to think about it too much.

“Hey.” You called out to him softly, a smile on your face as he dropped his suitcase in the middle of the room, and then laid across the couch, his head on your stomach and his arms around your middle.

“Hello.” He mumbled into your shirt. Your heart clenched in your chest, hating how this felt too intimate for your current arrangement with him. Your fingers carded through his hair, earning you a satisfied hum.

“How was the east coast?” You questioned, though it was kind of pointless. He had texted you as much as he could during the day, and called you before and after games. You were pretty sure you knew exactly how the east coast had been.

“Fun. I beat EJ in cards twice on the plane.” He explained, and you could practically see his triumphant grin without even looking at his face. Like most hockey players, he was incredibly competitive. “How were things here?”

“Kind of boring, I went to brunch with Nina today and ran into Mel. Apparently, she’s having a mandatory dinner tomorrow.” You explained with a chuckle. For obvious reasons, you chose to avoid the fact that Mel had found out about the nature of your relationship with him.

“I heard. Landy told everyone before we even left New York.” He explained, and you smiled. He grabbed one of your hands, the one that wasn’t carding through his hair, and pressed soft kisses to each of your fingers, and then the back of your hand, before finally interlocking his fingers with yours. You watched in silent admiration as he did so, heart hammering in your chest so heavily you were afraid he would be able to hear it from the way he was laying atop you.

You needed to think of something to say, fast, or you were pretty sure you were going to combust.

“You need a shower.” You teased, scrunching up your nose in good fun as he shot you an offended look. Seconds later, though, his expression turned to one more mischievous and you knew you were in trouble. His sly grin replaced his goofy one, and you nearly melted into a puddle right then and there.

“Want to join me?”

Bad idea.

You nodded.

You ran into a problem the next day, while you were getting ready for dinner at the Landeskogs.

“Mikko Rantanen.” You called in an annoyed tone, looking over yourself in the outfit you had planned for the evening. You heard his heavy footsteps tread into your room, and then you saw him in the mirror behind you. Your heart thumped in your chest as you saw him, but your emotions took a backseat to the reason you had called him in.

“You look good.” He hummed, his hands resting on your hips as he dipped his head down to press soft kisses to the junction of your neck and shoulder. You flushed at his compliment and his touch, setting your hands a top of his much larger ones.

“You did this.” You gestured to the problem—a large bruise on your neck, evidence of the eventful night you both had. He had the audacity to laugh, loud and bright, and you were having a hard time being mad at him when he made a sound so sweet. “I’m serious, Mikko!”

“You weren’t complaining last night, though.” He teased, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before retreating to sit on the edge of your bed. You turned with a pout, but his grin never wavered.

“The boys are going to make fun of me.” You huffed, crossing yours arms. Mikko grinned, huffing out a laugh as he pulled you to stand between his legs and you couldn’t help but feel and pang of pain shoot through you at how domestic everything felt—getting ready together for a dinner party at his team captain’s.

“Well, yeah, they make fun of everyone.” Mikko assured you, and even though his words didn’t sound very comforting, you couldn’t help the roll of your eyes and the smile that made its way onto your face. You especially couldn’t help the way you flushed as he squeezed your waist and grinned up at you with the goofy way he always did.

“Sometimes, I think you’re more trouble than you’re worth.” You huffed, trying to play off the fact that you were totally enamoured by him. You slipped out of his grasp, retreating to find some concealer to cover up the bruise.

“You really weren’t saying that last night!”

Yeah, living with him was a bad idea.

Things were going great, dinner was spectacular and the company was amazing. That was, until, everyone settled on the large sectional and surrounding chairs, passing Linnea from one person to the next. You had felt Mikko’s gaze burning holes into the side of your head from his spot beside you when you had been bouncing the baby girl in your lap. But you chose to focus on anything besides the fact that you wanted nothing more than to have your own family with him one day. It was warm, so your concealer must have rubbed off, because—

“You’ve got a hickey!” Tyson shouted, gesturing to you with a mischievous look on his face. You flushed brightly, adjusting the collar on your shirt in a futile attempt to hide the bruise. Apparently, the boys were like teenagers, because suddenly all of them, besides Mikko and Cale, were crowded around you in an attempt to figure out who you were sleeping with. That was a downside of being friends with the boys; they were entirely protective over you, and wanted to be able to make sure that whoever you were with was good enough.

“Who gave it to you?” Andre asked cheekily, and you shot a nervous glance towards Mel, who was grinning smugly at you from the kitchen. You avoided the question, taking a sip of your water you had gotten moments earlier to try and cool yourself down.

“Mikko, you live with her. Do you know who gave it to her?” Nate asked, and you shrunk into your seat even further. Mikko laughed, tossing his arm on the back of the couch behind your head.

“Yeah, I do.” He grinned smugly, and you wished a hole would open up in the ground and swallow you whole. Mel let out a booming laugh, and to your horror, you watched a look of understanding flicker across EJ’s face.

“Shut the fuck up.” He deadpanned, a wide and toothless grin spread across his face. His mischievous gaze was dancing between you and Mikko, and out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Mikko nodding in confirmation.

And then it was chaos. Gabe caught on the fastest, with Naz and JT close seconds. You missed the looks of confusion on Andre’s and Tyson’s faces, finding your nails much more interesting, but you could hear Ryan explaining it to them, and their following cheers of excitement.

“Are you serious?” Gabe asked, and you could see his smug grin without even looking up to him. Neither you nor Mikko got the chance to respond, because Mel let out a resounding ‘yep!’ from the kitchen and your face flushed further. Gabe spun to face his wife, betrayal on his face that you would have found amusing in just about any situation other than the one you were currently in. “You knew?!”

You took that as your chance to leave, standing from the couch and heading to the front porch. Ignoring everyone’s call of your name, you pushed forward and slipped out the door. You didn’t have your coat or phone, and Mikko had been your ride, so you drew in a shaky breath to try and calm yourself.

Things with Mikko were irrevocably changed, that was for sure, but you weren’t ready to face that quite yet. But, like always, Mikko had different plans. The door opened soon after you had stepped outside, and you’d recognized the blond that joined you no matter what.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his voice a lot quieter and a lot more serious than it had been five minutes before, when he had been boisterously talking with his friends and teammates. Five minutes earlier, you had been able to meet his gaze, but now you were doing your best to avoid looking at him. You shrugged, arms crossed over your chest and studying Mikko’s sock-clad feet. He hadn’t even put shoes on before he came chasing after you. You heard him sigh, but you didn’t lift your gaze. “I’m sorry I told them. I just didn't want to hide you anymore.”

“No, Mik, I’m not mad. Just embarrassed.” You tried not to think about what that meant, and instead wrapped your arms tighter around yourself in a futile attempt to somehow make yourself smaller and warm yourself up.

“Embarrassed?” He questioned, and you briefly wondered what it must be like to have his confidence if he wasn’t embarrassed by what had just happened inside. You could still see

“Yeah, it’s kind of embarrassing to have everyone know we’re just hooking up.” You turned away from him, closing your eyes and feeling the cold air against your flushed skin. You’re not sure what spurred your next words, knowing they were a bad idea, but nonetheless the confession tumbled past your lips in a whisper you secretly hoped he couldn’t hear. “Especially since I’m half in love with you.”

“Oh.” Was all he said, and you squeezed your eyes shut. It felt there were miles between you and Mikko, like you were drifting in space his feet were planted firmly on the ground. Your arms were crossed tightly across your chest, and you were doing all that you could in an attempt to not start crying on the Landeskog’s front porch. “Can you look at me?”

There was amusement in his voice that had confusion bubbling up in you. There was not one thing you found amusing about this situation, but when you turned back to face him, he was grinning from ear to ear.

“Can I talk now?” He asked smugly, his hands falling to the outside of your arms to hold you in place. You distantly registered that you nodded, but the bright look in his eyes kept you locked into your place. “I’m half in love with you, too.”

And that was not what you were expecting, honestly, and you let out a breathy laugh before you could stop yourself. His grin widened at your shock, and he took a step closer to you, so you were nearly standing chest to chest.

“Actually, I know I’m in love with you.” Mikko corrected. You could barely hear him over the sound of your heart pounding in your chest. One of his hands, that had been resting on the outside of your arms, moved towards your face, and then he titled your chin to meet his gaze head on, and you felt your whole body lock up. It wasn’t in fear, but excitement, that he was as close to you as he was with his last words still hanging in the air.

“Really?” You whispered, and a look of disbelief crossed his face, and he took a step closer that had you keening into him.

“How could I not be? You’re my best friend, and you’re always there for me when I come home from road trips.” He explained with the utmost certainty, and you couldn’t help the playful roll of your eyes.

“That’s because I live there, Mik.” You teased, watching as his grin widened at your joke. Instead of answering, he ducked his head to meet you in a kiss that had your head swimming. It was far from the first time you had kissed him, but it was the first time you had done so with both of your feelings out on the air. One of your hands settled on his broad chest, the other wrapping around the back of his neck and threading through the blond hair on the nape of his neck. He hummed in appreciation, and suddenly you were grinning too much for the kiss to actually work and had to pull away.

“So, do you believe me now?” He asked, dropping his forehead against yours to catch his breath. Your grin widened as your hand joined the other on the back of his neck while his own settled on your waist.

“Hm, I might need a little more convincing.” You hummed, feigning being deep in thought. Mikko’s chuckle filled the air, and you smiled at him, and he leaned towards you to do a little more convincing. Just as his lips brushed against yours, there was a knock on the window by the front door. You groaned, turning slightly to see Gabe and the rest of the guys watching you and Mikko with smug grins on their faces.

“Not on my front porch! We have neighbors!” Gabe told you through the window, and you flushed in embarrassment. Mikko let out a groan of his own, burying his face in the crook of your neck and mumbling what sounded like Finnish curses at his captain. You chuckled, bringing up a hand to rake through the curls on the top of his head.

“Congrats, you guys.” Naz’s words were genuine, but there was a mischievous grin on his face that told you Mikko would be teased good naturedly at the next practice. You smiled at him, and he was quickly overshadowed by two of his teammates.

As you faintly listened to JT and Tyson bicker back and forth from inside over who claimed that you and Mikko would get together first, you felt the blond still leaning heavily against you squeeze your sides gently, muttering a quiet ‘let’s get out of here’ to which you nodded readily. You slipped back inside to bid goodbyes and grab your things, only one thought sticking out to you.

Moving in with him might have been a bad idea, but the result couldn’t have been better.

#mikko rantanen #Mikko Rantanen x reader #mikko rantanen imagine #NHL imagine #NHL x reader #hockey imagine #hockey x reader #Colorado Avalanche #Colorado Avalanche imagine #Colorado Avalanche x reader

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sparklingchan · 3 years

Text

Phenomenal you are || Choi Jongho(Ateez)

Pairing : Reader(fem.) X Jongho

Word count : 2.1k+

Warnings : cuss words.

Genre : Fluff, angst if you look with a microscope, romance, rock band au.

Description: In which, a band practice for the Annual Winter Festival brings Jongho to finally face his true feelings for you.

A/N : I wrote for ateez after soooo long. I’ve been pre occupied kinda but I’ve written a few drabbles to post from time to time.

Enjoy!

In the quiet summer afternoon , while the sun is at its most cruel forms and the rest of the world is enjoying their holiday at the pool, the only sound that can be heard from Hongjoong's old car garage is the soft strumming of Jongho's acoustic guitar. Lazy and unmotivated.

"We need a singer." Hongjoong says with a sigh louder than Wooyoung's laugh as all the boys stare at him.

How dare he!

The tension in the air is so thick someone could cut it with a knife and though no one breaks the silence, they know what is to come next.

Jongho stares at Hongjoong, eyes big with curiosity and mouth gaping, half expecting Hongjoong to suddenly start laughing and declare it all a prank.

"We really need a singer." Hongjoong stresses on every word yet again. That's a combination of words he never thought he'd hear the older boy say yet here they were.

"Man, come on, we already have Wooyoung and Jongho. We don't need another singer." Mingi groans, absent-mindedly playing with his drum sticks. His foot is slightly tapping against the bass drum pedal.

Jongho and Wooyoung shake their heads in agreement but Hongjoong looks unconvinced. Like always.

"But the rules for The Winter Music festival are clear. They said that a band needs to have a separate singer along with the instrument players. Or else they won't be allowed to participate!" Hongjoong argues.

Jongho sighs with frustration. He loves singing as much as he loves playing the guitar, but if he had to choose between one, he'd always choose the former. He can't let someone new take his place as the voice of the band.

It hurt his ego more than he'd like to admit to his friends.

"I'll stop playing the guitar. I'll just sing." He suggests, although he's immediately met with Hongjoong's disapproval.

"Don't be fucking ridiculous. Who will play the guitar then? I play the keyboard and Wooyoung is on the bass. We can't play the guitar!"

There he is, leader Hongjoong, who's always right.

"Fine. Fine. So does anyone have any singers in mind? Should we hold a small audition or..?" Mingi says.

Wooyoung smirks at Jongho's direction, leaning in to whisper into his ear, "Dude, its your chance to shine. Come on. Tell them."

Except Wooyoung can't whisper. He can only yell.

"What? Tell us what?" Hongjoong questions.

"Oh, you know y/n right? She sings really well. She has a YouTube channel too." Wooyoung exclaims, walking as far away from Jongho as possible.

Jongho elbows the older boy right in his stomach.

"Y/n? As in Jongho's y/n?" Mingi asks with a mischievous grin.

Jongho hides his face in his hands, cheeks burning red as an unknown combination of happiness and embarrassment wash over.

The sound of your name always makes him feel vulnerable yet he cannot bring himself to hate this new found side of his personality.

Were you truly Jongho's? He didn't know. But did he want you to be his? Obviously, yes.

"So who's going to talk to her?" Hongjoong asks, actually considering it.

Jongho is beyond exasperated at this point, "Hey! We can hold a small audition or something. I'm sure there are other singers who'd want to try out?"

"Do you really want that ?" Wooyoung teases.

No, he doesn't. He doesn't think there's any better singer out there than you. Your honey like voice with the most beautiful texture ever gifted to a human and the way your eyes close in concentration when you feel the music right in your bones always makes him feel weak in the knees. He wants to be able to watch it all live and not from behind a laptop screen.

"Fine. I'll talk to y/n."

No one reacts because they already know Jongho could never say no to anything that involves you.

"I'm not very confident, Jongho, I'm telling you!" You cry out loud as you walk down the unfamiliar road with Jongho close by your side, not paying heed to any of your protests.

When Jongho first asked you to join his infamous band as the lead singer, you were sure he was joking. But he insisted that he wasn't and the serious expression plastered on his face showed nothing but honesty so you let yourself believe him.

Of course, you did throw around your own set of tantrums which you were sure irritated him, even so he somehow manages to take you to the boys' practicing session in Kim Hongjoong 's garage.

"Y/n, please, you and I both know you're the best choice. Mind you, Hongjoong personally discarded the idea of an audition just to save this position for you!"

Lies. It was him that had said no to the prospect of holding an open and fair audition for all the students of their school. Because he only ever wanted you.

"Why do I feel like you're buttering me." You mutter to yourself but Jongho obviously hears you, and a smile crawls its way onto his lips.

The garage is old and a little small, you notice the moment you enter the place, but that place also has everything you ever dreamed of - instruments, good mics, a band who wanted you to be their lead singer, and Jongho.

"Hey, y/n! I'm so glad you actually came. You know Jongho's never been the most convincing man on earth, right?" Wooyoung greets you, his fingers busy fiddling with the tuning keys of his bass guitar.

You smile, "I think he convinced me well enough though. "

You shoot Jongho a shy glance, only to find him staring right back at you, his eyes reflecting the same yearning as yours do. The sides of his mouth are slowly curving into a grin, and the thumping in your chest increases as you watch him blush under the warm, afternoon sunlight.

Ethereal is what he looks like to you.

Mingi clears his throat, breaking the unexpectedly long eye contact, "Guys, come on. We have to practice."

And with that begins your musical journey with the boys.

There were really nice and welcoming and made you feel very comfortable. It almost felt like you were...home.

Within weeks, you had gotten so close to the guys, one would almost confuse you of having known each other for a long time when in reality you guys barely talk to each other at school. And nothing would have changed if you hadn't joined the band.

And on the other hand, we have Choi Jongho. Nice and sweet and talented and has heart eyes for you and only you, yet with your new found friendship with the other boys, he finds a foreign feeling of insecurity settling down in his heart, like foreign sediments in fresh water.

Until a few days ago, you were his little secret, his only friend out of his normal social circle at school, he had you all to himself. But now that his other friends have started showing equal interest in you, he feels neglected, jealous even. Though he would die rather than mention it you or the boys.

"We're going for ice cream. Come on." Wooyoung unlocks the door to Mingi's car, and slides is as if it were his own, "I'm driving."

Hongjoon mutters a warning under his breath before sitting in the front passenger's seat while Mingi follows suit, and sits behind them.

"When was this decided?" Jongho leans against the car's door , an irritated expression etched onto his face. His forehead is creased, his eyes alert and his hands are stuffed in his pocket - he looks displeased .

"When you were in the toilet. What's the big deal." Wooyoung says impatiently.

Jongho looks at you, his forehead crease deepening, "Why didn't you tell me?"

You are taken aback; in all honesty, you hadn't thought it was such a great deal to him. The five of you were just going for ice cream. Its not a life or death situation.

"I-I didn't think it was that important. " you reply.

Jongho scoffs, a sarcastic smile on his lips, "You didn't think it was important to tell me we were going somewhere? I see, I wasn't wrong to think you'd finally sidelined me. "

"Jongho, what are you even saying?" You say, exasperated.

Jongho has never been a man of too many words, or too many gestures. He doesn't have the habit of beating around the bush. Which is why is words are often too honest, too harsh.

You knew this, yet you couldn't help but feel a sting when Jongho accuses you of sidelining him. It feels like your chest is on fire.

"Dude, just get in the car. What's gotten into you?" Hongjoong says.

You are utterly confused - you couldn't believe Choi Jongho is throwing tantrums over something so trivial - the man who is known for his high tolerance and abundant patience.

"Nah, I'm good." Jongho pulls away from the door and turns on his heels , "See you guys tomorrow!"

And with that, he walks in the opposite direction, toward his house. And needless to say, he doesn't even bother sparing a single glance at you.

"Should I go after him?" You ask out of impulse, but you do mean it.

What's the point of going with the guys when your mind would anyway be preoccupied with Jongho?

"Not to play cupid, y/n, but yeah, I think you should." Hongjoong sighs, rubbing the crease between his eyebrows .

You nod, closing the door, "I'll see you guys later then."

"Give him a smack in the head while you're at it ,y/n." Mingi chuckles, shaking his head.

"Oh, I will."

Jongho had not walked far enough yet, making it easier for you to run up behind him.

"Oi! Jongho! Wait."

Now, Jongho is sure he's making up things in his head because he genuinely believes you’d not have left the boys behind just to chase him. Well, prove him wrong now, y/n, will you?

"Jongho! " you yell again and this time he stops in his tracks, not having the guts to turn around yet curious enough to wait for you.

"What?" He demands without sparing you a glance still his eyes somehow manage to stare at your shadow on the concrete of the street, "Why didn't you go?"

You quickly catch up to him, though the run exhausts you badly but you convince yourself it's worth it.

If it's for Jongho, everything is worth it.

"Because its no fun without you. "

Jongho had built up this weak wall around him, a wall meant to protect his fragile heart from being broken but there has never been anything as fragile and delicate as this wall - and the words that leave your mouth does exactly that.

"Y/n, I-" he begins but you cut him off.

"Uh, no. Firstly, you owe me an apology for all that you said before, and secondly, you owe me a whole tub of ice cream because I chose my crush over ice cream and that is not done."

You'd never been the best at confessions, really, and before today You'd never felt the need for it either. Yet here you are. Confessing to Jongho as if it were the most natural thing to do.

"You - what?" He asks in disbelief, his body growing warm under your intimidating gaze.

Y/n just confessed to you, dumb ass, wake up!

"Yeah, yeah. Don't get too ahead of yourself." You roll your eyes, wrapping a shaky arm around his.

"Do you really mean it, y/n?" He asks in the most sincere voice, the tremble in his voice giving him away completely.

Jongho doesn't deny your touch but he does look away from you, his face scrunching in a peculiar way.

You don't know if he's crying or laughing or about to combust, but whatever it is , the slight blush on his cheeks and the softness of his eyes makes you feel all mushy inside.

"Of course! " you whine, "Why don't you believe me?"

Jongho pulls you closer and then wraps his arms around you - like how he'd seen people do in those stupid rom com movies. And when you hug him back , placing the softest kiss on his cheek, he realises how relieved he is.

“I believe you.” He sighs, “And I like you, too.”

And he realises how much more special this feels than the scenarios he’d often make up in his head. He realises how terribly sweet you smell, how radiant your laughter is and how phenomenal you are.

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let-it-raines · 3 years

Text

I Hope We Never See October (1/?)

Summary: When his personal life and football career go up in flames, Killian Jones escapes England for America, finding seclusion in Martha’s Vineyard in order to hide from his demons. It’s a fresh start, or at the very least a paused moment in his life, and all he needs is a few months alone to allow his heart to heal. He doesn’t count on meeting Emma Swan.

Emma’s life depends on tourists who come to the island every summer. It’s how she makes her money working in restaurants and clubs across the vineyard, but every year, she cannot wait until autumn comes and her life returns to normal. She especially cannot wait for Killian Jones to leave.

Rating: Mature

a/n: Do you know what’s a great way to distract yourself from writing and other responsibilities? By writing a story that you shouldn’t be writing. So, here we are, and I hope you enjoy 😂

On AO3 | Here |

-/-

June

The ocean water runs over his toes before disappearing, heading back to its home beyond the sand. It’s a cool contrast against the heat of the sun that’s warmly beating down on his skin, but it matches the chill of the beer bottle against his palm. Who knows what time it is? From the emptiness of the beach, Killian is guessing it’s mid-morning, but seriously, who the hell knows anymore?

Likely everyone other than him.

After more water washes over his feet and up his ankles, he decides the water is too cold to stay standing this close to the shoreline, so he walks up the path to his house and closes the gate behind him. He sits down at the bench by his pool and then buries his face in his hands before moving to take a sip of the beer.

God, he hopes it’s not truly the morning because he’s one second away from tipping the bottle enough for the beer to tumble down his throat.

Killian yanks it away and tosses it to the ground. He expects the damn thing to shatter against the tile, but it doesn’t. It rolls away into the grass, spilling a little beer with every turn until it stops against the tall grass lining the gate. Killian bends down and picks up another bottle, popping it open, then pouring it out. He does the same thing over and over again until his grass is fertilized with alcohol.

At least his body isn’t.

What a thought to have (presumably) so early in the morning.

His eyes close, the sun no longer blinding his vision, and he starts picking up the bottles, chasing them around and cursing himself for even buying the damn case in the first place. He has no clue what damn day it is, but he does know that it’s too damn early for him to be drinking. And if he’s going to get wasted and waste his day, he might as well do it with rum or whiskey. He doesn’t even like beer.

Killian chucks the bottles in the bin resting against the side of the rental house and goes through the side door into the kitchen. It’s clean today, all the white countertops empty of plates and pitchers and the junk that accumulates over time. The living room is clean as well, all the pillows in the right place, the throw blankets over the correct corners of couches, and he can see vacuum lines in the rug. He’s sure if he were to walk to the mantle, it’d be empty of dust. Ariel must have sent someone in to clean yesterday while he was away from the house. He’s got to have her stop doing that. He’s thirty-five years old. He can clean the house he’s staying in. He doesn’t need her taking care of his life for him.

Though, it is literally her job, but Ariel takes things far past being his manager. He doesn’t know anyone else who does all the things she does for their client, especially when he isn’t bringing in the same amount anymore. Sponsors aren’t exactly lining up at the door for disgraced football �� not the American kind as everyone here believes – players, but he still has a few hanging around and good enough investments that he’ll be alright for a long while. Bored as hell with too much time for him to wander to bars in Martha’s Vineyard before talking himself out of them and sitting in a twenty-four-hour diner all night. He’s got his favorites. One has better coffee than the others, but the booths aren’t clean. Another has clean booths but a piss excuse for coffee, and his favorite has a selection of pies that have him eating in ways he hasn’t since he was young. Still, they’re all pathetic little places for him to spend his time so he doesn’t drink more than he can tolerate.

At least no one knows him here. It’s actually why he’s here to begin with. There are obviously less famous towns and places in the world, but he wanted to be near the ocean, wanted to at least have that if he was going to be in disgraced isolation. This area has beach for miles and different nooks to disappear into, and so far, it’s nice. He’d rather be in London or New York, but he knows this is better.

He collapses onto the couch and sees a note on the coffee table in Ariel’s neat script. When was she even here? Honestly.

Killian, Eric and I are in town for the week. Please come to lunch at our house. We’d love to have you! I know you don’t have anything better to do, so don’t bother calling me with an excuse. Hope you enjoy the clean house!

- A

He runs his hand over his face and scratches at his too-long beard before fumbling for his phone and checking the date and time. It’s half past eight. He can get two, maybe three, hours of sleep now, and he’ll only look half as pissed as he feels when he makes his way to Ariel and Eric’s house a few miles over in Tisbury.

At least he isn’t actually pissed. Always the positives, he guesses.

-/-

Ariel’s house is covered in gray shingles with white trim. The shutters are cherry red, much like her hair, and while there are obvious updates to the place, it looks just as it did in the pictures he’s seen from when Ariel was young. She was raised here, her father a local fisherman, and while she now resides outside of London, on occasion, she returns to Tisbury for a holiday. It’s why he chose to holiday here even if he’s over in Edgartown on the beach in a house too large for one person. He spent years listening to her talk about her childhood, and then visiting when she married Eric here, and he wanted that calm sense of relaxation.

Right now, however, he wants nothing more than to be back in a city. The firing squad won’t be as intrusive there where he can get lost in a crowd instead of being the center of attention.

Killian opens the unlocked front door that squeaks on its hinges, and he immediately smells garlic bread baking in the oven. She must be making her pasta, and his stomach growls for real food. As he walks through the hall at the entrance of the house, he notices that everything is the same, all the family portraits are in the same places, there are a few too many nautical decorations, but it all works. Killian looks into the kitchen, sees that it’s empty, and calls out for Ariel and Eric, no answer. He takes the liberty of checking the oven, and when he notices the bread is slightly overdone, he grabs an oven mitt and takes it out, placing the tray on the stove.

Where the hell are they?

He pushes open the kitchen door that leads to the backyard, and he sees two figures toward the side of the yard. Killian sighs and walks over to them, only stopping when he realizes it’s three people instead of two.

Ariel and Eric are talking to a gorgeous woman in a pair of small white shorts and a fitted polo. She’s got long, thick blonde hair pulled off her neck, and he can’t stop glancing down at her legs. He doesn’t usually pay much attention to people anymore, unless of course they are paying attention to him, but he cannot help but notice her. Because she’s stunning, of course, but also because he wasn’t expecting to see anyone else. He thought they would be isolated, and his gut tells him to turn around and run.

He doesn’t.

“Hello?” he starts, and they all turn to him. “I, uh, took your bread out of the oven.”

“Oh shit,” Ariel mumbles. “I forgot I’d put the bread in the oven. Is it burned?”

“No, I think I saved it just in time, love.”

Ariel’s shoulders deflate, and then she’s closing the distance between them, hugging him tightly, before Eric does the same and claps him on his back several times. He’s missed them, and it feels good to be embraced by something other than a heavy blanket. When Eric releases him, Killian can see the woman still standing in the yard, shifting on her feet.

“Hello,” he greets, nodding in her direction.

“Hi,” she nods back.

“Oh, Emma,” Ariel begins, walking over to her and grabbing her arm, “this is my friend, Killian. He’s staying on the island for awhile. Killian, this is Emma. We rent the house to her for most of the year, so we’ve invaded her home this week, I’m afraid.”

“It’s fine,” Emma says. “You guys basically give me the place for free, and I picked up some extra shifts at the club. I’d never be home anyway.”

“What do you do, love?”

“Not your love,” she corrects, and he feels the sting even if he uses the term for many a woman, “and I’m a manager at a little place by the shore, but sometimes during the summer I’ll wait tables at the local country club for extra money. The people will treat you like shit, but at least they tip well since they have no concept of real-life money.”

“What’s the restaurant?” he asks. “Maybe I could eat there.”

Her brows raise, and he gets the feeling she’s not a fan of the idea of him disturbing her at work. He gets the feeling she’s not a fan of him at all. Funny, his first impressions are usually better than this.

“The Blue Dog Tavern.” She points to the logo on her shirt. “I actually have to go there now. I just had to drop by and get my shirt since my boss is coming by today. I’ll stay out of your way when I get home tonight,” she tells Ariel and Eric. “It’ll be like I’m not even here.”

“Oh, no, honey,” Ariel sighs, smiling at Emma, “we’re the ones disturbing you. I promise, it’ll be a fast week, and then everything can go back to normal.”

Emma nods with a tight smile, and he definitely gets the idea that she isn’t a fan of having Ariel and Eric here. He wouldn’t be either if he had to share his home with his landlords. She walks away into the kitchen, leaving the door open behind her, and Killian makes a note of the restaurant she mentioned, not necessarily to see her but to venture somewhere that isn’t a twenty-four-hour diner.

“Is that why I couldn’t stay here?” Killian asks. “Because you already rent it out?”

“Yep. Plus, it’s not on the beach, and that was your request. This isn’t really to your taste anyway.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, A?”

She shrugs and walks toward the kitchen. “Nothing. I’ve got to finish cooking. I was just about to put the pasta on the stove when Emma came in through the back gate, and I got distracted. Thanks for saving the bread, Jones.”

“Is she okay?” Killian asks Eric.

“Yeah, mate, she’s fine.” He claps his hand onto Killian’s shoulder. “And what she meant by that is that you’re an ex-football player who is hiding from the world and is used to a certain kind of luxury. You’d lose your mind living in this house for months. It’s smaller than a quarter of your flat back home.”

“I would not lose my mind living here. It’s charming.”

Eric rolls his eyes. “You would. I think the giant crab pillow in the living room would be what pushed you over the edge.”

“That thing is still here?”

“It’ll never leave, and I’ve offered to pay Emma to get rid of it many times. I think she throws it out, and it finds its way back inside.”

Killian snickers and settles down on the bench of the dining table they keep outside, letting Eric follow. He feels like he hasn’t talked to another human being in ages, and he’s only been here for a few weeks. “You know her pretty well then? Emma?”

“No,” Eric starts, waving his hand, “no, no, no, no. You cannot go there.”

“What the hell are you on about? I can’t go where?”

“Emma. You can’t go there. She’s not a one-night stand for you. She lives here, takes care of it since we’re gone all the time. You can’t mess that up. Ariel would murder you if you screwed this arrangement up.”

Killian flashes a smile, the ones he’s used to get whatever he wants a million times. There’s an art to being in the public eye, one he figured out only to ruin it all over again, but he still knows the old tricks. Smile, be charming, never let them see any hesitation in your actions. If a question is too invasive or the answer to telling, redirect. It’s all about the redirection. Killian was never one to lie, but he was certainly one to evade, especially toward the end when he couldn’t handle hearing what everyone had to say.

Here, he doesn’t want to admit that Eric might be right about him, but mostly, he’s tired of people controlling his life because they think he can’t make good decisions.

“What?” he laughs, shaking his head. “You think I’m not capable of simply asking about a woman?”

“I think you are, but I don’t want Ariel to have any reason to kill you.”

“Eric,” Ariel yells from the kitchen, stopping Killian before he can speak, “set the table! We can eat in fifteen.”

Saved by the bell. Or the Ariel.

He hates himself a little for rhyming in his head. If this is how he thinks sober, he’s not sure he wants to stay this way.

“And Killian,” Ariel calls, “you can make the lemonade!”

Okay, so maybe he can, if only because Ariel will kill him if he collapses into the pit again, and she won’t be the only one. He’s had a few downfalls into drowning in alcohol since coming here. Maybe it’s boredom, maybe it’s sadness, who the hell knows? What he does know is that it makes the demons all disappear for the night, sometimes the morning too, but then it all comes roaring back in screaming color.

And with a hell of a screaming headache.

One or two drinks every few days, he reminds himself. That’s what he’s working with, and besides the few slips, he’s been pretty damn successful.

Killian heads inside to help Ariel, though he thinks he hinders her more than helps since he can’t find a damn thing, but eventually they get it all done and eat. Mostly, he has to listen to Ariel give him a briefing on things he has to do over the next few weeks. He has contracts to sign, video interviews and conferences to attend, and they need to happen at certain times. That’s a bit obnoxious, but he can’t complain. He’d be the biggest ass in the world if he did, and he’s certainly already in the running for that title. People still want his face and brand to represent them, and he doesn’t even kick around a ball anymore.

Fools. All of them.

Ariel asks him to stay for dessert, but he’s already eaten too much off his usual diet. Old habits die hard, and he isn’t working out like he used to. Maybe he’ll take up running again soon, but right now, the thought is exhausting. Killian excuses himself from the table, hugging the Fishers goodbye and wishing them goodnight. He’s sure he’ll see them before they return to England and go back to their regular lives. Ariel still has Will and Rob to manage, so she can’t spend all of her time on him. There are other pieces of work out there.

The streets are crowded as Killian drives back to his rental house. Tourists and native islanders alike are out to go to dinner or bars, likely a party or two, and while Killian is tempted to take a turn and go out himself, he doesn’t. He continues along the GPS guide back to his rental house until the garage door is closing behind him.

Day seventeen of being here - now that he knows the date, he’s reminded of when he arrived - is done and dusted, and he cannot wait to close his eyes and go to sleep. He’s been running on fumes all day.

Once inside, Killian quickly showers and puts on a pair of pajama bottoms, collapsing under the covers of his bed as soon as possible. So, of course, that’s when his phone rings.

“It’s bloody half past one in the morning where you are.”

“And only half past eight where you are, so why are you in bed? You look horrible.”

Killian groans and pinches his nose as he props the phone up to get a better look at the screen. “Thanks, Els.”

“No problem.” She flips her blonde braid over her shoulder, and despite the time, she looks as if she could be up and ready for work in minutes. “I was up, couldn’t sleep, and I figured I needed to check on you. I’m sorry I don’t have the girls with me.”

“Did you tell Ally and Sophia I love them?”

“I tell them every day, but I think they’d appreciate it more if they heard it from their actual uncle.”

“I’ll call tomorrow.”

“Good,” Elsa sighs. She adjusts herself on her couch, pulling her blanket up higher on her body, and the familiar pang of guilt hits Killian. It happens anytime he talks to just Elsa. The girls act as a buffer, and he feels guilty for using them like that. He feels guilt about a lot of things. “How are you?”

“Good,” he lies. “Really good. I think I’m going to take up real running again soon, maybe finally check out the gym in the basement of this house. What about you, love?”

“I’m okay. Work has kept me really busy, which I like. I have this one house with the biggest garden I’ve ever seen, and designing it has proven to be a bit of a challenge. But I miss spending time with the girls. Anna has been such a big help, though. I love having her here.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure that’s great.” Killian runs his hand through his hair, yanking at the strands, and sinks a little further into the bed. It’s nice that Anna is around, that she’s been around this entire time while Killian fucked off across western Europe and then eventually to America. Yet again, he’s let someone he loves down because he’s an absolute tosser. “It’s nice to have a family you can count on.”

“Hey, don’t start that again, Killian. I’m not here for self-pity. You’ve had a hard year, and you needed some time away. No one is blaming you for that.”

“I’m not the one who lost my husband, love. I wasn’t left with two little girls with no father.”

Killian tilts his head up so he doesn’t have to see Elsa as water gathers around his eyes. Today was an okay day. Started off rough, but it ended up being alright. Now he’s gone and made Elsa talk about Liam’s death instead of having a normal conversation with her.

“My grief doesn’t negate yours, darling. You lost your brother, who was your best friend, and you lost the career you spent your entire life building. We can both be sad. It’s not a competition.”

Killian blows air out his nose and blinks the forming tears away. “How’d you get so wise?”

“Well, you see, when a child with a head the size of a football comes out of your vagina, you get special emotional intelligence. It’s something to do with all the hormones and pain.”

Killian finally looks down at his phone to see Elsa laughing, and the corners of his mouth twitch. “You make me glad to be a man.”

“You should be glad. You’re at least fifteen steps ahead of every woman in the world. Now, come on, I want to hear about everything you’ve been doing. Have you made any friends?”

“What am I? A lad in reception?”

“No, because my child in reception has many friends.”

Killian rolls his eyes. “Well, I met the loveliest waitress last night. Reminded me of my Gran, and, uh, today I met the woman who lives in Ariel and Eric’s house. Don’t think she was a fan of me.”

“However could a woman resist your charms?”

He laughs, even if he doesn’t appreciate the sarcasm, and this time when he sinks a little deeper into the bed, it’s for comfort and not to hide. When Killian got the news Liam died in a Naval accident, it felt like his world was ending, that the ground was crumbling underneath his feet. He was at the club warming up to head out onto the pitch, and suddenly his sacred place wasn’t so sacred. He couldn’t understand any words leaving Elsa’s voice over the phone. Everything was ringing, and his legs collapsed from underneath him.

He’ll never forget that day. One moment everything in his world was right, and then it wasn’t. and he’ll never get over the fact that Elsa has been the one who has had to continue holding him up when she lost someone too.

“Well, if their names are Ally and Sophia Jones, they are experts at resisting my charms.”

“Unless you give them sweets.”

Killian chuckles. “Those are my good charms.” Elsa smiles and yawns on the other end of the line. “Els, I think you need to go to sleep. I promise to call the girls tomorrow.”

She nods and flips her braid over. “Don’t go breaking your promises to them.”

“Never, love. I’m a man of my word.”

Or, at least, he used to be. His word seems to falter lately, but mostly only his words to himself. Killian looks out the glass doors and windows toward the ocean, watching the water crest much like this morning, but he hopes that tomorrow morning he won’t be standing there with a bottle of beer in his hands.

Maybe he can keep that promise to himself at least.

-/-

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(You can be added or removed at any time. I don’t know where my list went, so I’ve just taken it from my last story 😘)

#I hope we never see october #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #cs fanfiction #captain swan fic #captain swan fanfic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfiction #captain swan

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madampianoo · 3 years

Text

Hey guys 💖 Here's Zlatans latest FULL interview with France Football. Hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did. This was such tasty appetiser before tomorrows main course meal match and start of his new season.

P.S. Please excuse english, it was google translated

Have you ever found your stolen Fido Dido ?

"Not. They stole it and I never saw it again. But maybe it was cosmic justice for all the bikes I stole. It's a pity, it was my favorite bike ... "

If you could find the one who stole it from you now, what would you do to it?

"I would buy him a new one and take mine back."

You devoted a lot of space to that story in your autobiography. Was it a turning point in your life to move from the role of victim to the other side?

"No. I was young and stupid. I did all sorts of things to survive. I needed a bike to ride here and there. When they stole my bike, I started stealing them from others. I did it solely for the reason that I could not afford to buy others. I know it's not a positive story ... But things like that are done to move forward in life, right? ”

What would you steal from football today if you could and give it to little Zlatan ?

"Nothing. I would just tell him to be more patient. And that his hard work will return one day. I worked hard, but I didn’t have the patience. I wanted everything now. "

How did you learn to be patient?

"It's very difficult when you're young. But when you have the experience I have now, learn what patience is. But when you are young and wild, full of various ideas and energy, when you want to discover the whole world and learn everything at once, then it is not easy to be patient. You need to be surrounded by people who have experience, who will calm you down and who will tell you the truth. "

What will be left behind Zlatan Ibrahimovic when he finishes his career?

"I do not know. Something will remain ... If something remains, it means I did a good job. Maybe some of my ideas and thoughts will remain from everything. That you should believe in yourself, that you should have your own personality and that you should not refrain from saying something you think. "

Did you make mistakes?

"I make mistakes every day. I am making a mistake now that I am talking about your newspaper. "

Maybe we're making a mistake talking to you too ...

"I'm kidding ... Mistakes are normal, we make them every day and they help us to be better people. "No one is perfect."

What are you most proud of?

"Everything I did. I come from a place where everyone condemned me and told me that something was impossible. I was constantly told that I was not good enough. And I'm still here. I stand still in my football boots. At 39 years old. And I'm proud of that. "

Could you have done more than this?

"It can always be more and better. It's a question of mentality. "

Even you?

"Every person can do better and more. In my head I always aim for the maximum and I am always convinced that I have given the maximum. Could I have done better, that can be discussed ... "

Do you ever get tired of the attention of the public, journalists, fans, everyone's opinions?

"It's all part of my job. I didn't choose it that way. When you are as good as me, that is inevitable and must be accepted. "

How do you comment on the claims of some that you are a great player in small games?

"Everyone has the right to an opinion and to express it."

Did that bother you when you were younger?

"Not. I used it as a propellant to be as good as possible. I was motivated by such stories. I went forward and looked to never be satisfied. I received all these criticisms in such a way as to ignite the fire in my heart and to extract additional energy from them. "

What do you regret?

"It simply came to our notice then. Do you really think that I would be a better football player if I won all the trophies? "

Not. Even the Brazilian Ronaldo did not win everything ...

"Exactly. Of course, it would be wonderful if I won everything. But that doesn't make me a weaker or better footballer. I like guys who say to me: 'Zlatan, you didn't win the World Cup, you're not a good player'. Okay ... But it's easier to win the World Cup when you're French than when you're Swedish. Let's go back to the Champions League. The longer you wait for it, the sweeter it is. I still have a goal to win it. I won everything but her in club football. But I won't quack even if I don't win it because I've already done a lot more than most footballers. I'm a happy man. "

You didn't even win the Golden Ball. Does Zlatan miss the Golden Ball or does the Golden Ball miss Zlatan ?

"I think they miss me there on that list of conquerors."

You finished in fourth place in terms of the number of votes in 2013, and that is your best ranking. Is it weird that you didn't win it?

"You see, every player wants a trophy that tells him he is the best in the world. Deep down, I think I'm the best in the world. It would be prestigious if I won it, but it is the voters who decide. You journalists are voting and you know why I didn't win it! Ha-ha-ha ... ”

Well, it's not just us from France, there are also journalists from all over the world ...

"A-ha-ha!"

Messi and Ronaldo have won it several times. What do they have that you don't have?

"If you talk about essential qualities, I have nothing less than them. If you look at the trophies, I didn't win the Champions League like them ... But I really don't know how you measure and calculate that. Nor am I obsessed with it. You see, when you do good collective things, then individual rewards are a consequence of that. An individual cannot be good if the collective is weak. "

Where do you see yourself in the history of football? If there was a table, where would you put yourself?

"What do you want me to answer you?"

Who would be next to you on that table?

"It is not relevant to compare players from different eras. Everyone played in their generation, with different teammates. These are difficult things to compare. Everyone has their own story, and mine is full of problems. "

Does your personality set you apart in the world of football?

"I am just what I am. People try hard to be ideal to others. I always say ‘Be what you are and that is perfection’. I will not change because of success. For no reason will I change. Whatever happens, I will be what I am. I just want to play my game and have my team win. The rest will come of its own accord. I didn't choose to be famous. It's just a consequence of the work I do. "

We thought about jumping out of the pattern and what you're doing on the field.

"But it's all connected to the field. People talk a lot off the field today. But if you're not good on the field, and you talk a lot, then you're just a clown. "

Are there many clowns in the world of football?

"As much as you want ... A bunch!"

You consider yourself ideal in your head because you are what you are. How do you know this is right?

"I don't want to be perfect to someone else by force and talk about how I don't make mistakes. Maybe all this is a mistake. But I will remain what I am. I don't want you to send me questions before the interview, I don't want to know what you're going to ask me, I don't care. Readers will judge us whether the interview is good or not. "

When you left Paris Saint-Germain, you said, 'I came like a lion, I leave like a king . ' Do you really care so much about being remembered?

"I wrote my story in Paris and left my motto. Now let someone else write it and leave your motto. I don’t try to make people remember me by what I say. He will remember me on the field and what I did there. "

Are you arrogant or pretentious?

"I'm just a man full of confidence."

Does it matter to you that they recognize you as special?

"I am not special. I am a normal guy and a professional. I don’t want to share my whole life with the rest of the world. I'm not an instagram clown who wakes up in the morning and thinks what is the most beautiful photo for him to post. I share my professional challenges with the rest of the world. Privacy must exist. I don't want to share it either. But I want to share some parts of my professional life because it's part of my job. "

Do you deliberately block the fragility and insecurity from your childhood with your behavior, when the fierce guys in your Rosengard called you "lukewarm"?

"No. And I have a part of the personality that is fragile. I have emotions and weaknesses. There are things that hurt me. It's all natural. I'm not the Hulk, I'm not Superman, nor have I ever wanted to play them. I had difficult moments that hardened me, but I stepped forward. Today, I am no longer a guy of 20 or 25, but a family man with two children. I think differently, but my character has remained the same. "

Are you still a fierce guy at 40?

"People, is it possible that you still consider me a football gangster?" I know you had that title and some picture ... I'm no gangster. Of course I'm still a strong guy. I am almost two meters tall and I train hard and work on myself every day. I'm not someone who lies on the beach and shows muscles. I was born like this and I try to adapt the game to my constitution. I'm not as fast as I was at the age of 25, but now I have some other qualities. "

Does that mean you're a good guy?

"Yes I am. When you meet me, you will see how much heart I have. When they don't know me, people hate me. "

Do you want to be loved by everyone?

"No. I just want to be respected when I do something good. In fact, what is the love of all? There can be no love from someone I don't even know. Love is something reserved for those closest to you. Take Inter fans for example. When I was with them, they loved me. Now they hate me. This means that love has never been as real as with loved ones. Love cannot arise and disappear so quickly. I'm not one of those guys who will organize humanitarian actions just for someone to tell them: 'Wow, he's a good guy!'. It's a 'fake'. I'm going to do something because I want to do it. And not because someone would like me. I do it with my heart, some do it with my brain. If I send money to hospitals, it doesn't have to be known. I'm doing this because they really need that money with this damn crown. And I will not brag publicly. "

Is that one of the worst things in football today?

"It's simply part of football. People want to have perfect images. But in the end, they will meet reality. Everything will be known. Look at Tiger Woods. It seemed to be the most perfect character in the world ... People, just be what you are and don't try to be someone else. Don’t manipulate because it will all come back to you. No filters! ”

When you learned the Swedish national anthem, did you do it from the heart, not to be loved in your own country?

"When I was little, I didn't feel like a Swede. My parents are from Bosnia and Croatia. They influenced me to feel different, to look at me differently, to judge me differently and to treat me differently. That's why I didn't feel 100 percent Swedish. But today I am 100 percent Swedish. Even in France today, many talk about some old France and old times. The world today is full of various mixes and contrasts. And it doesn’t mean you’re not 100 percent Swedish or French if you accept that world. When you are young, you do not understand some things. It is mentally difficult when you are treated differently as a child. People think that it will pass quickly, and they do not know that the consequences remain for years. I was always in favor of getting the strongest blow at once because the pain lasts less than being constantly harassed with small and vile blows. Constant harassment leaves longer traumas. But those people who are harassing do not know that they are backward and live in the old world while we pass in front of them with the new world. It is a world of open minds in which I am Swedish and in which my children are Swedes. "

Do you still think differently from LeBron James, with whom you used to be friends?

"I do not want to enter politics because it divides people. Football unites people. I was lucky to meet people I would never have met without football. From all over the world. "Sport and politics are two different worlds and I am glad to be in the former."

But it happens that you express an attitude that has to do with politics.

"We athletes spread love and joy. I'm good at it and I know how to do it. You will not bring politics into my world. "

What are your fears and anxieties?

"With this corona situation, the world has changed completely. The situation is improving a bit, but ... The other day I went out to a restaurant with my family. It was weird. Then cam video audience in stadiums. And that was weird to me. I got used to it and I only wanted one thing: To go home ?! I'm used to the house, the masks ... It won't be easy to come back mentally. I hope that everything will be the same as before, but I am afraid that this will leave consequences on people. "

When you became a parent, did your children bring fears?

"There is no room for fear when we talk about children. We can talk about weaknesses. When you have children, they become your weakness. Then your life is no longer in your hands but in theirs. They become the most important ... Guys, we missed the interview date! I won't give you any more! I'm too expensive to tell you so much, ha-ha-ha ... "

How expensive are you?

"A lot ... Ask PSG!"

Can I have another five, ten minutes?

"Come on."

We would like to ask you about retirement. Are you afraid to stop playing football?

"A little bit. It is difficult for every football player when he has to retire. You have been programmed throughout your career. It is known when you get up, have breakfast, train, have lunch, rest, have dinner ... Someone else takes care of everything, it's just yours to press the 'repeat' button every day. The first day you wake up at the end of your playing career, you ask yourself, 'What the hell am I going to do today?' You are no longer programmed and you do not know what to do. That scares me a little. But what should I do? Luckily, I don’t think about it yet. I'm not for retirement. "

We in France call it the ‘little death’.

"That's it! Absolutely! After a lot depends on what kind of person you are. How will you cope and how will you fight. It's not easy".

But isn't that some kind of relief? You can eat and drink whatever you want

"After my playing career, I want to disappear. When you are in this world like me for so long and you know what you have been through physically and mentally, you just need to disappear and enjoy life

#ibrahimovic #ac milan #zlatan ibrahimovic

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