#God please no injuries for any of the players

[turcott3]

First of all thank you for the Rempe content

Second of all, I’ve been thinking about this:

You’ve been dating Matt since just after he got to Seattle. You’re openly aware of his fighting and you don’t mind it but once he gets to the NHL you can’t help but let the media and the backlash get to you about Matt fighting. When he gets ejected from a game on a match penalty, you find yourself going down to see him, clearly upset and trying to drill into it him that he doesn’t have to fight all these people, he has nothing to prove. He doesn’t see it that way and you two go back and forth for a little while. He turns to you and says ‘this is who I am. I am working on it, I ask you to accept that’ or something like that and then you have to accept that his fighting is a thing but it doesn’t mean you’re happy about it still. So now every time he gets in a fight he brings you flowers and chocolate after the game

kisses

matt rempe x fem! reader

warnings?: cursing, mild arguing, fluff, kisses

masterlist

-

“matthew rempe.” you yell busting open the door.

“jesus you scared me.” he jumps, giggling.

“what have i fucking told you matt.” you say sternly as the boy sits down in front of you.

“what?” he shrugs.

“matt please for the love of god stop all this fighting crap. i mean it.” you press, tears welling up in your eyes.

“it’s fun, i never mean any harm by it.” he replies.

“matt, i know. but please. just stop. for your own sake and the sake of your health please. it hurts my heart having to stitch you up after every game. please just at least take a break from it, or only fight when it’s necessary. i just wanna see my boys face healthy again.” you say wiping a tear of frustration that fell.

“come here baby.” he says lowly, opening his arms for you to sit on his leg as you brushed his soft hair from his face.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t know you felt that way. i’ll try to dim it down okay? this is just the kind of player i choose to be y/n, and that’s how it is but i promise im gonna try to dial it down for you.” he says pressing a kiss to your temple.

“but just know if any guy ever chirps about you they’re dead, okay?” he giggles wiping your tears away gently with his thumb.

“okay.” you smile lightly, finding it hard to ever stay mad at him.

“and i’m sorry for getting ejected again, i know you like staying for the whole game.” he giggles with his chin rested on your shoulder in a hug.

“it’s okay baby. i can’t be mad at being able to have you at home sooner. i always miss you when i can’t come.” you giggle, scratching his scalp with your nails, something he always loved you doing.

“is it bad that i feel that way too.” he says pulling away, locking eyes with you.

“no it just means you love me.” you smile, squishing his cheeks like a baby before he pulls your hand away.

“would you stop that, you know i don’t like it.” he laughs

“well i think it’s funny, and i feel in this moment you deserved it.”

“touché”

-

“matt.” you mumble under your breath as you sat on the couch with a load of emails on your laptop, the game on your tv. of course, another fight. a much more evenly matched one this time. you shut your laptop with anxiety waiting for the final buzzer of the game to sound, eventually dozing off as your mind scrambled at what possible injuries you would have to ice or stitch tonight.

“y/n?” you wake up to the sound of matt’s voice in a low volume, trying not to startle you as his hand rested softly on your leg.

“what, huh? oh my gosh.” you say realizing that you had fallen asleep.

“i got you these.” matt says, revealing the gorgeous bouquet of roses and your favorite chocolate.

“awe matt what is this for?” you ask with your lip pouted, observing the sight in front of you. a beautiful bunch of roses and your beautiful boyfriend.

“for breaking my promise. i’m sorry baby.” he says as you lean over to kiss him on the lips.

“it’s okay my love, you know how hard it is for me to stay mad at you for literally anything. these are beautiful.” you smile lightly at him.

“i had to hand pick them, only the best for my beautiful girl.” he smiles kissing your hand delicately.

“but seriously, promise after tonight, im gonna try to be better.” he swears, setting the objects on the coffee table.

“all i ask is for you to try.” you reply as you stand up, wrapping yourself up in his large frame.

“i’ll think of you out there, every game. every time i get challenged. i swear to god i will.” he mumbles into your hair as he kisses you on top of the head.

“i love you so much.” you say looking up into his deep brown eyes.

“i love you too.” he smiles, leaning down to attach your lips once again.

-

#matt rempe fluff #matt rempe x reader #matt rempe imagine #ny rangers #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #turcs’ talk

[sleekswosobession]

tears streaming down your face

barça femeni x reader, lena oberdorf x reader

request: here

A/N: please tumblr gods, stop giving me sicknesses i write about in sickfics. i am TIRED.

also the the requester i changed it a lil bit - hope it makes you happy (do not ask how this would work, this is fiction. this does not make sense in any reality tbh)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

As soon as you go down, you know what it is. The worst injury any footballer could imagine. Then, out of nowhere Lena Oberdorf (the defender marking you) can’t seem slow down and when she tries she trips over your good leg. Groaning as her knee hits the ground with a pop. Similar to yours.

Your faces are near each other, both silently empathising with each other when a rush of blaugrana swarms the area. Alexia sensing what your injury could be already.

“Is it?” She doesn’t want to say it, nobody ever wants to hear those letters.

“I think so, Ale I don’t want this please.” You sob, climbing into her lap.

“I know, I know. Deep breathes, you’ll get through this.” You do as told then you hear commotion to the right of you where Lena lays. You listen to the accented angry voices of Claudia and Patri.

“Ay, stop being dramatic. You literally tripped over her now you’re pretending to be hurt? Estúpida.”

“You are telling me you could not stop? Lies.”

As you’re about to tell them to stop, Wolfsburg players have shoved the spaniards away from their hurt teammate. Alex does the same with Lena as Alexia does to you.

Players around and above you are shoving each other and in your opinion it’s all too much. You’re overstimulated, in pain and all you want to do is cry. It seems Alexia notices this.

“Aye, Barça why don’t you be responsible and leave so that both medical teams can come over and do what’s needed for the players.” Her voice is her stern and the German captain agrees telling off her players as well.

When the crowd has gone, medical teams swarm and do the necessary on field tests, both ultimately asking for stretchers. Not a good sign.

You send a small sad smile to Obi, an understanding between you two. No bad blood or anything.

You part ways into seperate areas and get given the rundown. They suspect it’s the ACL, but scans will be needed to determine how bad it is and what type of surgery needs to be done.

You’re deflated, 9-10 months of recovery sounds horrific. They give you crutches, and put ice on your knee allowing you to watch the rest of the match in the stands. When you make it out, the young German is there as well, looking equally as tired.

“So, the three letters?” You ask, focusing on the match.

“Yeah, you?” You nod, sighing.

“It’s all apart of the game, it sucks that we have to miss so much though.”

“Yeah, it really does. Also before I forget, sorry. I didn’t mean to trip over you.”

“Hey, I know you didn’t. Maybe after our surgeries we could meet up sometime.” She stares at you.

“Would you come to Germany?”

“I’ve always loved Germany, it’s so nice there. So yes, I would.” Her eyes light up.

“So this hangout… is it like- a date orrr.” You laugh at her nervousness.

“Do you want it to be?”

“Yes.”

“Then it is, probably shouldn’t tell the teammates about this though. Not just yet, after nearly giving you another injury themselves.” You smile sadly at her, feeling guilty for your friends actions.

“Yeah, if I wasn’t in so much pain I probably would’ve yelled back. But you know I was also held down by a certain scary yet very nice woman.” You agree with that statement. Alexia is the same.

You both talk for the rest of the game and exchange numbers at the end with a promise to see each other soon.

- - - - -

You get confirmation of the rupture later that day, and told that in about a week you would go through surgery.

Alexia has essentially forced you to stay with her because she knows what it’s like and she knows the rabbit holes you could go in. She tries her hardest and you respect that.

She makes you come to training, not for you to watch them but for them to watch you. Jana stays with you in the gym working on her own recovery.

She makes jokes and makes the long week a bit easier, you’re also on your phone a lot. The others think it’s your way of distracting yourself… but it’s not particularly you that’s distracting yourself.

More like a certain Wolfsburg player.

Lena had been good, it was also confirmed for her and she had her surgery as soon as she was back in Germany.

Things were going well, and in 2 weeks there should be another game between your teams and in Germany. Which should be fun.

- - - - -

It’s the day after your ACL surgery, it went well and now you’re hobbling around sad, annoyed and in pain. Some of the team was at Alexia’s house trying to cheer you up but you didn’t even know what you wanted.

Out of nowhere Frido and Ingrid pull you up from the couch saying nothing other than.

“We’re taking her, bye!”

You follow them slowly into Frido’s car and sit in the backseat.

“What is it?” You ask the Scandi’s.

“Hmm don’t think we haven’t seen you messaging on your phone a lot. Do not forget we have also played at Wolfsburg.” Oh, they knew. Of course they did.

“So, tell us everything. Are you coming to Germany with us?” Ingrid asks after Fridolina.

“It was my plan, yes. Also, the thing with Lena is new. I just don’t want to mess up. I think my feelings are growing stronger so I want to do what’s right.”

“Ahh, young love.” The Norwegian says dramatically putting a hand to her chest.

“Ingrid didn’t you nearly go to jail for threatening a man trying to hit on your girlfriend.” Frido snickers at your comment.

“Frido, you are in love with a MAN. Please.” The silence is loud as you laugh at yourself.

“Kid I will murder you.” The blonde says.

“Nooo you’d have an angry German to deal with and their language is already angry enough. Then Ale would cook you.”

She hums in agreement, before conversation turns normal and light, filled with laughter.

- - - - -

You’re in the stadium waiting for the game to start, sitting next to Lena. Talk is small, about recovery and everything in between. It’s comforting to know that someone near you is also going through the same thing.

As the game progresses, so does your chatter. You make plans for afterwards, going to a small restaurant she liked.

By the end of the game, your hands are sealed together and as the final whistle blows, you kiss her cheek and walk to the field.

Maybe this journey for recovery won’t be so lonely.

—————————————————————————

i lost my first cricket match… this one girl can’t catch a ball and does nothing 💀 how is she on the team

also this won’t be a 2 parter because i have no motivation ❤️

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni #barca femeni #barcelona femeni x reader #barca femeni x reader #lena oberdorf #lena oberdorf x reader

[itsbeeble]

SEEING STARS

SUMMARY: It’s slightly embarrassing how Sunwoo is naive enough to take Eric Sohn’s “advice” to heart. Luckily, you like idiots. Especially when they kick a ball into your face and agree to do a semester’s worth of schoolwork for you.

GENRE: smut, fluff, mild angst, crack

PAIRING: Kim Sunwoo x afab!reader (ft. Hoshi, Dino, Sangyeon, Kevin, Eric, Yuta, and Jay (Enhypen))

WC: 9.4k (you'd think i was doing this on purpose)

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

18+ MDNI, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: mentions of injuries (concussions, Sunwoo gets sucker punched), Eric slander, Sunwoo slander, Hoshi stirring up trouble, Sunwoo being stupid, car sex/public sex, p in v sex, fingering, mentions of face fucking, marking, hair pulling, attempts at dirty talk kinda? idk if you can even call it that but wtv, i think that's really it

A/N: Part 3 of the collab is out! If you haven't checked out Try Hard or Excitement (written by my beloved Fawn) please do! Otherwise, please enjoy this. Reblogs are greatly appreciated!

In Sunwoo’s defense, everything that happened was Eric’s fault. It was definitely not Sunwoo’s fault that he believed his best friend when he told him that he should absolutely kick a ball at the girl of his dreams so she could bring it back to him and she would fall for him too and then they could live happily ever after. It also wasn’t Sunwoo’s fault that he forgot that he was their university’s star soccer player and that he had really strong legs. 

At least, this is what he tells himself while sitting in the ambulance with you, who is currently passed out with a lump the size of a clementine on your forehead. He’s nervously gnawing at his fingernails, chewing them to nubs with his eyebrows furrowed. The EMTs said that you’re stable, that you just have a mild concussion but they want to take you in and get you checked out to be sure. 

“Are you her…friend? Boyfriend?” One of the EMTs looks at Sunwoo with a curious look in his eye. 

“Friend, just a friend,” he says, but there’s a dark cloud hovering above his head that anyone could see if they tried hard enough. 

“Is there anyone that we can call? Anyone else that we should inform?” Sunwoo shrugs.

“Not that I know of. Her family is across the country so they wouldn’t be any help right now, right?”

“Right,” the EMT agrees. “I suppose you’ll be helping her out the next couple of weeks, making sure no one else is hitting her in the head with soccer balls?” Sunwoo grimaces and nods. 

You’re never gonna like me at this rate, he thinks to himself. God, why did he ever listen to Eric in the first place? What made him think that Eric, the man who spends 90% of his time completely bitchless and watching hentai, would give him good advice about women? 

Now he’s gonna have to deal with student loan debt, lawyer debt, and being single for the rest of his life. 

The first thing you see when you wake up is white. Not, like, a white ceiling. No, your vision is pure white for a few moments, and then you swear that you’re seeing stars. You can faintly, over the pounding of your head, hear someone speaking. The voice is familiar, but you can’t quite place it over the ringing in your ears. 

“…Eric, I swear to fucking god if I ever see you again, I will shove my foot so far up your ass— I don’t care if you thought it would be a good idea! I concussed the richest girl in school, the girl of my dreams mind you, because you thought it would be a fantastic idea to kick a ball at her!” 

You blink a few times, clearing your vision, and you can see a boy to the right of you. He’s wearing a soccer uniform, the same uniform your university’s team wears. You blink again, and now he’s facing you with a nervous smile plastered onto his face. 

“Hi,” he breathes out and you smile at him. 

“Hi…Woo…sung?” You wince at the poor attempt. Of course, you know who he is. Anyone would recognize the star soccer player. Maybe you weren’t positive about what his name was, but you knew him. 

He laughs, but it’s a humorless one that has both of you cringing after.

“Close,” he tells you with a smile. “Sunwoo.”

“Right,” you nod, but the action causes a painful throb to run through your skull. “Fuck, why does my head hurt so much?” 

Sunwoo laughs again, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet and avoiding your gaze.

“About that…” his hand combs through his hair, pushing it out of his face despite it not being there in the first place. “I…may or may not have kicked a ball in your general direction, which may or may not have proceeded to hit you in the head and give you a concussion.” 

You kiss your teeth, eyebrows knitting together as you look at him. He begins to ramble, talking about how it’s his friend’s fault, and he really never meant for it to hit you. It’s cute, really, the way he practically falls to his knees and begs you to not sue him. 

“Sunwoo,” you try to interrupt, but it’s like he doesn’t hear you. He’s speaking too fast, too frantic, and you’re pretty sure he’ll faint if he doesn’t pause for air soon.

“I— I will do anything you want, I swear! I’ll— I’ll carry your stuff around campus for you. I’ll take all your notes so you don’t have to look at the screens. Fuck— I swear, I—”

“Sunwoo,” You reach your arm forward, wrapping your fingers around his forearm and his pacing jerks to a stop, his words caught on the tip of his tongue when you lock eyes. “I’m not gonna sue you.”

“You’re—” his voice cracks, “you’re not?”

“No,” you laugh and wince when your head begins to throb again. “Although, I wouldn’t mind if you helped me out with my schoolwork.” 

“I…” he trails off, his heart sinking to his stomach. “Yeah, yeah of course I’ll help you. But— but you really aren’t going to sue me? Because— because I wouldn’t mind if you were that mad at me but I think I would really rather you just have me arrested at that point, you know?”

“I promise, Sunwoo.” You squeeze his forearm, and his cheeks begin to darken with a tinge of pink. “I’m not gonna sue you.”

As it turns out, having the star soccer player around to do anything and everything you want him to is rather convenient. Sunwoo picks you up every day for your first class in his old, beat-up Toyota Corolla. He opens the door for you, hands you a fresh go-cup of your favorite coffee from your favorite cafe (which you aren’t sure how he knows, to be honest), and brings you to each and every one of your classes. It’s almost weird how you’ve gotten used to having him around.

“By the way,” you look up at Sunwoo as you’re getting into his car after your last class of the day. Sunwoo looks down at you, smiling brightly and you can feel yourself starting to melt at the puppy-like look in his eye. “Are you even taking classes this semester?”

Sunwoo tilts his head. “I mean…yeah? I kinda have to, you know, to play soccer.”

“But…you’re always with me these days. Are you not missing your own assignments? Your own exams?” 

“I don’t have any exams during your classes,” he informs you and then shuts the passenger-side door, gently to not hurt your head. You let your body rest against the tattered fabric seat you’re in, waiting for Sunwoo to get to his side of the car. “Plus, I have friends in my classes that send me shit when I’m not there.”

“You skip your classes often?” Your lips curl into a sly smile, one that he returns quickly.

“You know it, babe.” 

Your body tenses just slightly, not enough for him to notice. It was likely instinctive for him to say that, and you would never admit to anyone how the words had butterflies forming in your stomach, pushing against your flesh, and threatening to tumble out of you if he made one wrong move. 

Sunwoo slams the door of the frat shut and presses his back against it as soon as he enters the building. His eyes are squeezed shut, so tightly that he can see stars and it starts to hurt. 

“You alright?” Eric is sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees with a Nintendo controller in his hands. He isn’t looking at Sunwoo, his eyes trained on the fourth Five Nights At Freddy’s game being displayed on the TV in front of him.

“I don’t even want to talk about it.” Sunwoo dismisses, dropping his bag on the floor and tossing his keys into the bowl to his right. “Especially not with you.”

“The fuck did I do?” Eric’s eyebrows knit together, and Sunwoo scoffs as he walks behind the couch to get to the kitchen. 

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you were part of the reason that Y/N L/N is now concussed and probably hates my guts so I’m trying to fix it by helping her out with all of her school work, which is hard as shit, by the way. Did you know that she’s a mechanical engineering major?”

“No shit?” Eric’s eyes flick away from the TV screen for just long enough for him to nearly miss an animatronic approaching him. “I wonder if she’s in any of my classes.”

“Probably not,” Sunwoo sighs, grabbing a glass from the shelf and pouring himself some water. “She’s in Sangyeon’s year so her classes are a bit more advanced than yours.”

“Ah,” Eric bobs his head, tongue wedged between his otherwise tightly sealed lips. Sunwoo watches him play for a moment, wincing at a few jumpscares while he downs his water. “What’s that gotta do with me, anyway? Isn’t this, like, bonding time for you two? Finally land your girl?”

“Well, would’ve been perfect if, a) she hadn’t hated me and b) I didn’t call her babe in the car today.” 

Silence from Eric, and Sunwoo briefly wonders if his best friend had even heard him. 

“Why the fuck did you do that?” Eric pauses the game and tosses his controller onto the couch next to him as he turns around. 

“It was an accident!” Sunwoo defends. “It just kinda…slipped out while I was talking to her. A reflex!”

“You called the girl you concussed babe on reflex?” Eric exclaims in disbelief. “Are you stupid?”

“Says the one who suggested kicking the ball at her!”

“Yeah, well at least I didn’t give the girl of my dreams a concussion!”

“It was your fault!” Sunwoo yells, and Eric scoffs.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever makes you feel better.” 

“He called me babe, Soonyoung,” you’re laying face down on your friend’s bed, kicking your feet in the air behind you with his tiger plushie tucked under your arms. 

“Mhm,” he’s not paying attention, instead focusing on the tiger Lego set that you had given him for his birthday. “Very nice.”

“Ugh, and he’s so sweet too.” You continue to ramble, grinning like a mad woman when you recall the notes he had diligently taken for you despite not knowing a damn thing about Applied Measurements. “Did I tell you about the notes he took for me the other day? The ones that he—”

“—Color-coded and annotated for you?” Soonyoung interrupts, finally slamming down the little pieces of plastic in his hand. You flinch at the noise. “Left little notes about things he found interesting or didn’t quite understand but tried to explain anyway? Yeah, you told me.”

You duck your head, trying to ignore the throbbing. It had mostly gone away, but occasionally loud noises would spike pain through your skull. 

“Sorry…” you mumble, letting your legs fall flat on the mattress. Soonyoung turns to face you, pursing his lips. 

“Y/N, if you like this kid so much then why not ask him out?”

“It’s not like that!” You protest, but a sharp look from your best friend makes you backtrack. “At least, not for him. He’s just doing this because he feels bad for me! And besides, I’m a few years older than him, so wouldn’t it be weird?”

“How is that weird?” Soonyoung inquires, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “He’s of age, isn’t he?”

“Of age,” you scoff and make air quotes. “What is this, the 1600s?” 

Soonyoung glares at you and sits back in his chair. “I don’t care if you’re concussed, I’ll make that lump in your skull bigger if you push me.” 

At his warning, you huff.

“Okay, fine, yes, he is. But it’s weird for me! I’m a senior in college, about to enter the work force if I can get my senior project proposal done, and he’s just a sophomore! He’s the university’s star soccer player, he’s just starting to get ahead. I don’t want to, like, stunt that for him.” 

“Y/N,” Soonyoung rolls his chair toward you with a sympathetic smile on his face. “I can almost guarantee that Sunwoo will not care if you’re a few years older than him. I don’t think he’ll care if he’s just starting college. If I’m being honest, he finds that all the more reason to be attracted to you. Young men love older women— but you aren’t old!” He quickly backtracks before you can cut him off. “You’re not old, and believe me when I tell you that not a single person in the world would be doing this for someone that they weren’t attracted to.”

“Are you sure?” You sit up, wrapping your whole body around the tiger plushie, and Soonyoung nods.

“I promise.”

“Then…how do I get him to know that I…that I’m also attracted to him?” 

Soonyoung grins and you feel your heart drop. 

“Boy, do I have some ideas for you.”

Sunwoo is getting worried. The last four days have been ridiculously quiet for him, his days empty and dragging on without you around him. 

You were avoiding him, he could tell. Whenever he showed up to pick you up from your dorm, someone else was already there. A man, your age and clearly friends with you if the wide smile on your face said anything. You would lock eyes with him, your smile falling when you saw the confusion and hurt in his eyes. You would turn your gaze away and the man would get your door for you, laughing about something you said. 

Then there was the avoidance of his texts. He would ask if everything was okay, how your head was doing, random jokes or comments about things he saw on campus. Things that he would tell you had you been with him during the day. It wasn’t like it was unusual for the two of you to text now. In fact, it was weird when you weren’t messaging each other about something but now…

It’s like you’re trying to block out his existence. 

“I’m telling you,” Kevin hands Sunwoo a case of beer, cutting into the younger man’s frantic rambling. “She’s probably just busy, dude.”

“Then why wouldn’t she tell me?” Sunwoo pouts, carrying the case into the house. Kevin follows with a case of his own.

“Hell if I now,” he scoffs. “You think I have time to psychoanalyze everything rich girls do?”

“I mean…isn’t that your whole thing?” Sangyeon chimes in. “Psychoanalyzing everything about everyone?”

“That’s not the point,” Kevin waves his hand in the air and huffs. “I’m busy enough with my own classes and practices, I can only do so many things at once.”

“Sunwoo,” Sangyeon turns to the soccer player with a stern look in his eye. “This is gonna be one of our biggest parties yet, I need you on top of your game to make sure people are enjoying themselves.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Kim Sunwoo,” Sangyeon grabs Sunwoo by the shoulders with an exasperated look on his face. “If I hear you ranting about the girl you concussed one more time I might just lose it. I’m putting you on door duty for the night.”

“What the fuck do you mean door duty?” 

Sangyeon scans the room for a moment before his eyes land on a metal detector stick that Hyunjae had bought as a part of his last Halloween costume. 

“Here,” He tosses it to Sunwoo and smiles sarcastically. “Use this, make sure people aren’t bringing weapons in or whatever.” 

Sunwoo looks down at the metal detector in his hands, eyebrows knitting together. 

“You’re serious?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Are you sure that your plan worked?” You’re peering up at Soonyoung with a nervous look in your eye when you roll up to the TBZ party. “You’re sure he’s—”

“I’m positive, my dear.” Your best friend pats the top of your head, squinting at the frat house down the road. “I didn’t think this many people were gonna be here tonight.” 

“Sunwoo mentioned that it was gonna be a big one,” you murmur. Soonyoung turns his gaze to you and sighs at the pout on your lips. You look pitiful, to be honest. At least in attitude, that is. 

“Y/N,” you look at him again, “if Sunwoo doesn’t fall head over heels at this party and fuck you until you literally cannot walk then I give you full permission to give me a concussion, just like he did to you. Look at you! You look absolutely stunning!” 

You find yourself smiling at Soonyoung’s words. He’s not wrong, you do look stunning. A loose, short black dress that dips down at your chest to reveal just enough cleavage. The straps are jeweled, glittering under the lights and highlighting the jewelry around your neck. The dress itself stops just low enough that it covers everything but shows enough to tease, and you’re wearing sleek black pumps with an ankle strap so your feet don’t fly out of them (you’d made that mistake before. Never again…). 

“Now,” He claps his hands together and grins. “Let’s go get you your man, and get me a drink.” 

In hindsight, you probably should have known that the party would not have been good for your head. Loud noises had never particularly been something you enjoyed. A lot of people assumed you loved parties due to your financial status, but that wasn’t true. In fact, you were a bit of a recluse. You had only a few friends, though you were nice to nearly everyone you met. Sunwoo happened to be an exception. 

He wiggled his way into your life with that soccer ball, and you truly don’t think you can see a future without him in it, even if he just stays a friend.

The second you walk up the driveway, your head begins to pound, your vision flashing with stars, and you squeeze Soonyoung’s arm tightly to keep yourself from wobbling on your feet. 

Then you see Sunwoo at the door, a large bucket to his right, and a hand-held metal detector in his hand. You can see him scanning people, waving girls in, and then stopping men and pointing at the bucket. You feel a lump forming in his throat when you take in the sight of him. His hair is a mess of curls, the same curls you’d come to love since he gave you a concussion. He’s dressed in a tight-fitting black tee shirt and baggy jeans, nothing fancy but it brings the butterflies back to your stomach in full force. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” The man in front of you scoffs at something Sunwoo said, and you blink yourself back to reality. 

“$5 at the door,” Sunwoo shrugs, “sorry. I don’t make the rules.”

“It’s your frat!” The man yells. Sunwoo quirks an eyebrow.

“Yeah…do I look like the president or something?” The man stays silent and Sunwoo sighs. “Look, I don’t have the time to deal with you. Are you in or not? There’s a line of people behind you, and all of them wanna get in so you should probably pick fast.”

The student huffs, digging into his pocket for a dirty $5 bill, tossing it into the bucket, and shoving past Sunwoo. The soccer player just rolls his eyes and sighs again. 

“Who’s up next—” he chokes on his words when he sees you, his eyes widening and his jaw-dropping. You smile nervously, raising your hand in a tiny wave while Soonyoung throws a few ones into the bucket. 

“I’ll see you in there,” your friend says to you. “Text me if you need me.” Soonyoung squeezes your hand and nods at Sunwoo before walking into the house. You step to the side, letting people move past you but keeping a little bit of distance between you and the frat boy who hasn’t taken his eyes off of you yet. 

“You’re here,” Sunwoo says, not even looking at the continuous line of people walking into the house without paying. “You’re— why are you here?” 

A sheepish smile crawls onto your face. “Do you…not want me here?” Sunwoo panics, shaking his head rapidly and grabbing your hand in his. 

“That’s not— that’s not what I meant.” He tells you, and you can’t help the warmth in your cheeks. “I just— your head. This can’t be good for your concussion, can it?” 

You kiss your teeth, nodding slowly. “Yeah…Kinda got a little bit of a migraine right now.” You don’t tell him that the concussion has completely healed.

“Let’s— let’s get you someplace quieter, ba— Y/N.” He tugs at your hand, pushing you in front of him and covering your ears with your hand. He leans in close to you, his lips brushing the shell of one ear and you feel your breathing hitch in your throat. 

“Cover your eyes a bit and look down, I can’t block your vision but I can shield your ears a bit, babe.” He lets it slip out this time, and you do as he says. 

Sunwoo walks you forward, and you can see feet shuffling around the two of you. His hands do more than you expected, the sounds around you fairly muffled and dulling the throb in your skull. His body is so close to yours, his legs bumping into you with every step, but he keeps the two of you steady. Someone knocks into you, and Sunwoo says something to them, something harsh that you can’t make out over the noise of the party. He stops walking for a brief moment, now talking to someone else. You faintly hear a name, Chang-something, and then he’s fleeing the scene, knocking into you on his way out. 

Sunwoo steps to your side when you reach a staircase, talking into your ear so you know exactly where each step is. Another person bumps into you, and Sunwoo takes a hand off your ear to wrap it around your waist.

“You can drop your hand,” he tells you. “The lights aren’t flashing over here.” You nod, and you feel his hand drop at the same time yours does. You’re still walking up the stairs and even though you don’t need help anymore, his hand stays on your waist, the touch sending electric shocks throughout your body. 

Sunwoo feels like he’s going to throw up.

Scratch that. Sunwoo is going to throw up. 

He really hadn’t expected to see you here. In fact, he hadn’t expected to see you at all for the rest of his college days. Had you finally decided to sue him? Are you serving him? He hadn’t seen any documents with you, but maybe—

“I’m not suing you, Sunwoo,” you sit on his bed with one leg crossed over the other. Your dress rides up your thighs, something Sunwoo tries desperately to ignore but he just can’t. “You can relax.” 

You can relax, he repeats the words in his head over and over and over again, but he can’t. In fact, his body just grows more tense with the time that passes. Sunwoo tries to look at you, and then he tries not to look at you. There’s a heat in your gaze, and he can’t tell what the emotion behind it is. He hopes it’s not anger, he prays that you haven’t gotten angry with him. 

“Are you—” he clears his throat. “Who was the guy you were with?” You tilt your head and he clarifies his question. “I just— I’ve seen him with you a lot these days so I was just— I just thought—”

“Who, Soonyoung? He’s not my boyfriend,” you tell him and laugh when he visibly deflates with relief. 

“Good. I— I mean that’s— I just—” his face feels like it’s on fire, his stomach churning when you continue to laugh at him. When you wince and bring your hand up, he practically trips over himself to find an unopened bottle of water for you. 

“How’s your head?” Sunwoo asks you, quietly now. You shrug and slide over so he can sit next to you on the edge of his bed.

“Concussion is better, just can’t do loud noises.” Sunwoo nods and you continue. “At the last check-up, my doctor said that I might get some headaches here and there though, at least for a little while.”

“Then why are you here? At a party?” 

“I…guess I just wanted to see you?” You had this all planned out with Soonyoung. Why are you so nervous?

Sunwoo’s eyebrows knit together. “Why would you want to see me?” 

“You’re joking, right?” You can’t help the scoff that leaves your lips, regretting letting it out when Sunwoo flinches and looks away from you. “Sorry, it’s just…there’s no way that you don’t know by now.”

“Know what?” He presses, hoping that you’re saying what he’s been dreaming of you saying since he saw you on his first day at this university. You’re so close to him now, mere inches from him, and he fights every instinct inside of him that says to close that distance. He wants to hear everything you have to say.

You open your mouth to speak again, and there’s a knock on the door. Both of your heads whip around as it swings open, and Sunwoo’s heart sinks when he sees Soonyoung, the man you had entered the building with. He almost looked distraught that he’d entered the room. 

“Hi, so sorry to interrupt. Um…” he looks at you with a grimace. “We gotta go.”

“What?” Your eyebrows furrow. “Why? I was talking with Sunwoo—”

“Yeah, sorry again, but we gotta go.” Sunwoo watches you get up, albeit reluctantly, and you turn to him. 

“I’ll…we’ll talk later, okay?” You smile at Sunwoo, but you turn away before he can say anything to you. 

“Promise?” He calls out, but the door is already shutting behind you.

You really did intend on texting Sunwoo after, to continue your conversation, but ‘after’ turns into two days, and then four, and then it’s been a week, and suddenly it’s almost finals. You know that Sunwoo’s game is today. The last game of the season. He’d raved about it a few times while studying with you. You knew how excited for it he was, knew how hard he was practicing to make sure he was in his best shape. 

“What do you mean he’s about to be taken off the field?” You snap into your phone, scanning the lot around you for somewhere to park. It’s dark out, the lights in the lot hardly working so it makes it difficult to see any free spots. “Fuck, why is it always so fucking busy at these games?”

“He’s missed every shot— DAMN YOU DECELIS. YUTA GET THAT DAMN BALL—” You pull the phone away from your ear when Soonyoung starts to yell, hearing the crowd in the stadium erupt into cheers. “Another point to Decelis Uni. Anyway, no he’s been like…really off in his games, the only reason he isn’t off already is because of Lee Chan.”

“Thank god for him,” you sigh as you put your car into park. “Listen, I just parked, so just give me five minutes to get in there. Maybe he needs a good luck charm or something. Fuck it’s cold out here. Why did I wear a skirt to this damn game?”

“Did you just call yourself his good luck charm?”

“No, I just—” you huff.

“No, you’re right. I think you are because when you guys were talking, he’d been playing better than ever. Things went to shit after my plan.”

“Yeah, thanks for that by the way.”

“Any time, best friend. Get here soon. Maybe there will be a time out and you can kiss him or something.” 

“Yeah, maybe.” 

You shove your phone into your pocket, running toward the stadium as the crowd erupts into cheers again.

“What the fuck is going on with you?” Lee Chan grabs Sunwoo by the shoulder when half-time is called. Both boys are dripping with sweat, exhausted from the game. There had been so much back and forth between the two teams, keeping them tied almost constantly for the past 45 minutes. “You’ve been playing like shit for three games in a row, Kim Sunwoo. This isn’t like you. I’m not afraid to get Coach to bench you if you don’t get your shit together.”

Sunwoo huffs, grabbing his water bottle from the bench and ignoring his teammate so he can hydrate. 

“I’m fine, just not feeling great.” He dismisses. Chan’s lip curls into a sneer. 

“If we lose this game because of you, I swear to fucking god I will get you kicked from the team.” 

“You wouldn’t do that,” Sunwoo rises to his feet and glares down at the team captain. He may be the star player, but it takes more than skill to hold a team together. Lee Chan has that ability. Morals, respect from his teammates, he has everything. That’s why Sunwoo backs down when Chan straightens his posture. 

“You think I fucking won’t? Remember who got you on this team in the fucking first place.”

Sunwoo’s ears start to ring, and he can hear someone yelling his name. It sounds distant, and he swears he’s imagining it so he ignores it. 

It happens again, louder this time and grabbing Chan’s attention as well. Both players whip their heads toward the crowd, and Sunwoo’s stomach drops. 

There you are, shoving your way through the crowd to get to the barrier. People yell at you, and you say something that shuts them up. He’s in awe, staring at you and the distressed look on your face. You wave your hands to get his attention, and Chan shoves him again.

“If she’s why you aren’t on top of your game, you better fix shit right now. I’m not losing this one, Kim Sunwoo.”

“Yeah, got it.” It’s like he’s running on autopilot, walking toward you and then running. There are three minutes left in half-time, so he needs to make this fast. 

“What are you doing here?” Sunwoo grabs onto the barricade and hauls himself up so he’s face-to-face with you, ignoring the people yelling around the two of you. 

You grin at him, a mischievous look in your eye. 

“You don’t want me here?” The panic in his eyes makes you laugh, and you lean toward him. He smells of sweat and grass and your nose wrinkles. 

“I don’t— you know that isn’t what I meant.” He snaps, but you know he isn’t mad at you. 

“Soonyoung said you were playing like shit, figured I’d find out why.” You grab the collar of his shirt and pull him closer to you so he can’t leave before you talk to him.

“I’m just distracted today.” You scoff and he narrows his eyes at you. “What?”

“You’ve been practicing for this game for weeks now, Kim Sunwoo. What could possibly have you so distracted today?” 

He hesitates, and you already know his answer. 

“I don’t have time to talk right now, Y/N.” He’s biting his lip, anxiously flicking his eyes to the clock behind him. You roll your eyes. Of course, he wouldn’t answer you. You knew he wouldn’t give you a straight answer, knew he was too nervous between the game and having you right in front of him to fully focus. 

“Then I’ll make this fast.”

“Make what—” your lips are on his, your hand on the back of his neck to hold him close while you kiss him. His body stiffens and then relaxes, and then his hand comes to your arm to keep himself stable. His face slides against yours, transferring his sweat to your body and you pull back.

“Win this game,” you look into his eyes, but it’s like he can’t focus on you. He looks like he’s in a daze, and you tug at the strands of his hair to get his attention.

“I— yeah, I’ll win.” He promises but he sounds far away. The buzzer goes off. “I— what was—”

“If you win this game, you can take me on a date.” You grin and let go of him. Chan yells Sunwoo’s name and the boy pulls back from you reluctantly. 

“Anywhere I want?”

“Anywhere.”

“Promise?” His eyes are shining when he looks at you. You smile, placing another gentle kiss on his plush lips.

“I promise.”

He’s running away from you now, a new lightness in his feet that had been missing the past two weeks. There’s fresh energy in his muscles, in his bones, and that overconfident attitude that his teammates and opponents despised returns in full force.

“I take it I’m not gonna have to pull you off the field?” The Coach eyes Sunwoo as he jogs by. Sunwoo slows and turns back with a wicked grin on his face. 

“Not a chance in hell, Coach.”

“Can’t believe you kissed him.” Soonyoung nudges you with a grin, and you roll your eyes.

“Why? Didn’t think I had it in me?”

“No, it’s not that,” he shakes his head and lets out a sharp whistle when Sunwoo steals the ball from the opposing team. “He was covered in sweat and grass. Don’t you hate that shit?”

“Worth it,” Soonyoung snorts when you smile at him. 

Since the start of the second half, Sunwoo had already brought their team into the lead by two points. You’d never seen him play before, but everything you’d heard was true. He was fast, agile, and strong. He was a beast on the field, keeping himself just out of reach of all the other players. You can tell the other team is starting to get agitated, starting the get rough with your school’s team. 

You bite at your thumb as you watch the game proceed. Two minutes left in the game, and they’re tied again. You can see all the players getting tired, everyone slowing down. Sunwoo seems to be the only one with the energy to keep going, but even he seems to struggle. 

30 seconds and Sunwoo has the ball again. The stadium has gone quiet and you could swear that you hear the ticking of the clock. 

10 seconds and Sunwoo is almost to the goal, you stand from your seat, and people around you rise as well. Anticipation. Tension. The stadium is filled with it. People start cheering again, the other school starts yelling at their team to move their asses. 

5 seconds and the crowd goes silent. Sunwoo is on the ground, a player from the other team on top of him. Players from all sides are running over, trying to see what happened. The announcers say that the opposing player, Park Jongseong, tackled Sunwoo, his hand unintentionally jamming the star player’s nose. A medic rushes over, but Sunwoo waves them away. You can’t see his face very well, but you can tell by his posture that he’s agitated.

Jongseong is penalized, and his coach takes him off the field for a moment. Sunwoo is set in front of the center of the goal, pacing while he waits for the ‘ok’ from the referee. He glances up at the crowd, and for a moment you swear that he looks at you. For a moment, you swear that you can see him smiling at you, through the throbbing in his face and the ache in his body. You could swear that he’s telling you I’m gonna win this. Trust me.

Jongseong is back on the field, the clock is set. The referee raises his hand, an indirect kick. Sunwoo rolls his neck, jogging backwards to get a headstart. Yuta and Chan are both ready to receive a pass. 

The clock starts.

5

Sunwoo is running. You and the rest of the crowd are yelling at him to run faster. He does.

4

The ball is sailing through the air, Chan and Yuta and all the other players on the field are running for the ball. Yuta gets there first.

3

Yuta kicks the ball, but another player knocks it out of the air. Sunwoo is already waiting, stealing the ball and moving to an open space.

2

Sunwoo kicks the ball and watches it sail through the air. He doesn’t stop running, not when there’s still time on the clock

1

The crowd erupts into cheers, deafening you and you feel Soonyoung grab your shoulders, shaking you and yelling just as loud as everybody else. You feel a yell building in your chest.

0

They’ve won. Sunwoo is being hauled into the air by his teammates, The other team is sulking by their coach. You can’t go to him. Not yet. The crowd is beginning to clear, some people moving from the stands to leave the stadium and chat with their friends, to wait for the team to come out. 

“You coming?” Soonyoung quirks an eyebrow at you but you know that he already knows the answer. A shake of your head confirms his suspicions and he grins. “Go get your man. I won’t interrupt this time.” He makes his way down the stands to the parking lot, and you smile while walking down to the field. The teams have dispersed now, done with talking to their coaches and making their way to the locker room. Sunwoo hangs back, talking with Chan as you walk across the turf. Your heart is pounding in your chest, so hard you fear it’ll burst from behind your ribcage. 

Chan sees you first, jerking his head in your direction and clapping Sunwoo on the shoulder. Sunwoo turns as he walks away, and you can see the way his eyes light up when he recognizes you. 

“I told you I’d win, didn’t I?” He grins at you when you get closer, but you don’t respond. You’re only a few steps from him now, and you take a deep breath. “You okay?”

“Your face is bruised…” you have to force yourself not to jump his bones right there, instead focusing on the blooming bruise on his right cheek. Your fingers brush over it and he doesn’t even flinch.

“It’s nothing,” he reassures you, resting his hands on your waist. “It’ll be gone in a week, I promise. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about.” 

You smile back at him, craning your neck to look him in the eye. 

“You think my head is pretty?” 

“I think everything about you is pretty, babe.” Your cheeks heat up and he presses a kiss to your lips. It’s gentle, far less frantic than the one you gave him on the bleachers. Your hand trails from his cheek to the side of his neck, holding him close to you. Your lips part against his, your head tilting to give a better angle to kiss him at and he inhales sharply. Your body is on fire everywhere he’s touching you. Your waist, your lips, your neck. It feels electric and it pains you when he forces himself to separate from you, his nose brushing against yours. 

“All that for winning a game?” he breathes out, pressing a light kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I should win more often if this is gonna be my reward from now on.”

Your lips curl into a smirk. “I’ll give you more than just a kiss if you want, Kim Sunwoo.” 

It takes him a moment to process what you said. Sunwoo stares at you, eyes wide and jaw hanging open for so long that you almost consider taking back what you said. 

“You’re— what happened to take me to dinner? What happened to hello, how are you?” His grip on your waist tightens and you shrug. 

“I have more important things in mind.” Sunwoo’s whole body is tense, so tense that you feel like he’ll combust on the spot if you aren’t careful.

“I’m covered in dirt and sweat.” He tries as an excuse but you scoff. “I don’t think you wanna fuck me while I’m like this, right?” 

“Do you really care about that?” He takes a deep breath.

“Me? No. I just…If I go with you right now I swear to god I’ll cum in my pants and I really don’t want that to happen during our first time together—”

“Sunwoo,” You grab his chin between two fingers and he snaps his mouth shut. “I don’t care about any of that. I care about you. I want you, whether or not you’re covered in sweat.” You reach one of your hands up, pushing his soaking wet hair out of his face and his features soften. 

“You really…you like me, don’t you?”

“I figured it was obvious when I kissed you in front of the whole stadium, Sunwoo.” You kiss your teeth and step away from him. His grip loosens on you and eventually falls when you continue to back away from him, that sly grin still on your face. 

“Where are you going?” He trails after you like a lost puppy but you just shrug. 

“Come with me if you wanna find out.”

You silently thank god when you find the parking lot already half empty. Sunwoo’s car is a distance from most other cars, tucked under some trees that cast shadows over that old Toyota Corolla. 

“You’re—” Sunwoo is cut off when you open the door to his back seat and shove him in. You hear some people behind you howling, briefly turning your head to see his teammates cheering him on. 

“Get some, Kim Sunwoo!” Lee Chan screams and you laugh before crawling into the car behind Sunwoo. 

You turn just enough to slam the car door shut, and then you’re on top of Sunwoo. He tugs you onto his lap, your skirt riding up enough to expose your thighs to him, but you give him no time to process anything, your lips already crushed against his. It’s sloppy, but the whine he emits just from the pressure behind it has heat curling in your stomach again. Your tongue dips into his open mouth, and he pushes against you with more force that you had anticipated. He curls his tongue around yours, sucking and licking at it, and your body begins to shudder against his. 

Sunwoo drags your hips down against his own, groaning at the feeling of your heat against his growing member. 

“Can’t wait to be inside you,” he hisses when he pulls away, moving his lips down to attach to your throat and sucking harsh marks into your skin. You whine at his statement, grinding against him of your own will once he’d set the rhythm. He feels so good against you, pressing against your clit in just the right way to have you curling against him with broken whines spilling from your lips. Sunwoo moves one of your hands to your hair, jerking your head to the side to expose more of your skin to him, and you know he grows impatient when your shirt gets in the way. 

“Can I take this off?” He asks you, his eyes glittering when he looks up at you.

“Really think I’d say no to you?” You smile, reaching your hands down and pulling your shirt off and tossing it somewhere in the front seat. Sunwoo looks like he’s in heaven when you unclip your bra and throw it back with your shirt, baring your breasts for him.

“Fuck…” he breathes out, cupping one in his hand and brushing his thumb over your nipple. You force yourself to keep your breathing steady, to let him do what he wants. “You’re so pretty, baby. Wanna drown in your pretty tits.” 

“Yeah?” You ask, your voice breathy. “Who’s stopping you, then?” He looks up at you like you’re his goddess, like he’d worship you every day and every night if you’d let him.

“Really?” He hardly waits for a response before he’s shoving his face into your tits, laving at the valley between them before ultimately choosing one to focus on with his mouth. He sucks at the nipple, tugging at it between his teeth and listening to the delicate whines you let out. The other breast doesn’t go unnoticed, one of his hands palming at it and tweaking the nipple for a few minutes before he switches sides to give each of your breasts the same treatment. 

You haven’t stopped grinding on him in this time, your eyelids fluttering shut while your roll your hips over Sunwoo’s. You can feel his dick twitching in his soccer shorts, can feel him fighting the urge to jerk his hips into yours. 

“Sunwoo,” you choke out, tugging at the strands of his hair. It doesn’t stop him, in fact you could swear that the action makes him suck harder on your tits and your voice breaks into a moan. “Sunwoo,” 

This time when you speak, you yank his head back. He whines, his neck now at an awkward angle as he tries to sink back into your chest. 

“Whyyyy,” he drawls with a pout. His lips are puffy and covered in spit, similar to your chest and you already know he’s sucked marks into your skin that’ll be visible for days after this. 

“Wanna fuck you, baby.” You plead. “Wanna fuck you so bad.” 

His eyes roll into the back of his head at your tone, and he pushes you off of him just long enough to shove his clothing off. You do the same, noting the way your panties stick to your slick cunt. With a smirk, you discreetly tuck them into the center console while his back is still somewhat turned to you. 

By the time he’s turned back around, you’ve stripped yourself of all your clothing and sunk your fingers into your core. Your eyes have fluttered shut with two fingers inside of you and your thumb rubbing circles into your clit. 

“What are— what—” Sunwoo sounds like he’s going to cry, and you force your eyes open. He’s staring at your glistening folds with a look of pure hunger and you can only assume heartbreak as you finger yourself. “Why are you—”

“Gotta get myself ready for you,” you tell him with a pout. “Don’t—f-fuck— wanna make sure you fit i-inside of me.” Your back arches off the door and Sunwoo lunges for you, yanking your hand away from your pussy. The suddenness of the action makes you yelp, your eyes fly open again when Sunwoo sinks your fingers into his mouth. You can’t tell if the moan he lets out is genuine or if it’s for show, but it’s guttural and has your walls clenching around absolutely nothing. His tongue laves over your fingers, sucking them as far into his mouth as he can, getting as much of your taste off of your fingers as humanly possible before pulling them from his mouth and lowering your hand back to your side.

“That’s my job,” Sunwoo hisses, and then he’s lowering his body down so he can be level with your pussy. Two of his fingers prod at your entrance, and your hips jerk toward him against your well. He clicks his tongue when he sinks them into you. “Loosened your little cunt up a little bit already, hm? Gotta stretch you out even more though if I wanna fit inside you.” 

You can only whine when he sinks a third finger into you, scissoring them inside of them and curling them into that sweet spot inside of you. The stretch begins to sting, ever so slowly ebbing away and being replaced by pure, unadulterated pleasure. 

“Oh god, Sunwoo.” You gasp out, your hand wrapping around his wrist but you can’t exactly figure out why. To slow him down? To force him to go faster? “Feels so fucking good, please.” You feel a coil beginning to tighten in your stomach as his fingers punch into that spot time and time again, his thumb rubbing harsh circles into your clit similar to how you were. Fast learner.

Sunwoo grins at the way your face twists and contorts with pleasure, the way you try to control how your hips buck against his hand, the guttural moans you emit. 

“Gonna cum, babe?” He knows the answer. He knows by the way you clench against him, the way your cunt tries to force his hand out.

“Yes,” you whine out, “yes, gonna c-cum. Sun-Sunwoo, please.”

“Please what, babe?” He coos. “Can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.” Just to tease you, he slows down. “Do you want me to stop?”

“NO,” you cry out, taking matters into your own hands and fucking down onto his hand. “Ple-please let me cum!”

“Ohhh, I see.” He hums and drives his fingers into you faster, harder. Your whines and whimpers have become broken little sobs. “Fuck, babe, it’s like no one’s ever made you feel like this.” He can’t help but laugh when you clench down on him again. 

“G-Gonna cum, Sunwoo!” He just hums, watching as you clench down once, twice, and then your body is jerking against his hand. Your cunt tries to force him out one more time but he continues to drive into you and work you through your first orgasm of the night. 

When your body has stopped shuddering, Sunwoo finally pulls his fingers out of you. He raises them up a bit, just enough for you to see the way the mix of your arousal and your cum. 

“Look at all this, baby.” He holds his fingers out to you with a broad grin on his face. “Have you ever tasted yourself?” Your eyes come back to focus when he prods his fingers against your lips. You let him sink his fingers into your mouth, nearly gagging when they hit the back of your throat. “Tastes good, doesn’t it?” 

You swallow around his fingers, taking in the bittersweet taste on your tongue. Sunwoo watches you with hazy eyes when you take hold of his wrist again, holding his hand close to you while your tongue swirls around his fingers. You know exactly what he’s thinking, know exactly what’s going on behind those hazy eyes of his, and have to force yourself to pull off of his fingers when you know you’ve cleaned him off completely. 

“Fucking minx,” he growls and grips your hips tightly in his hands, flipping you over so you’re on your hands and knees. “Did that on purpose, didn’t you? Knew I’d think of you sucking my cock, think of you gagging on it as I fuck your pretty little face?” You don’t have a response this time, only moaning when he shoves his cock into you with one harsh thrust. 

He gives you no time to adjust, gives you no time to work through the sting it brings you but you don’t mind. Not when the stretch feels so good. Not when his cock is fucking into at a pace so harsh it has your body sliding across the seats. Your arm reaches out, hand desperately trying to find purchase on something, anything to hold you steady against the roughness of his hips slapping against yours. 

His hand slides up your spine, tangling in your hair and yanking on it to pull you against him. Your moans become louder, harsher until they’ve turned into screams and cries of his name. You can feel the fabric of his car’s seats digging into your knees, feel the old Toyota Corolla rocking back and forth while the windows fog up with the heat of your sinful behavior. 

One of Sunwoo’s legs slips down to the floor of the car, but he doesn’t slow as he adjusts his position. It gives him a new angle, new strength to fuck into you harder and faster, bruising your insides as he practically punches into your cervix from the force of his thrusts. 

“How does this feel, hm?” He coos into your ear, his breathing heavy from overexhertion. “Does this feel good? Am I fucking you good, baby?”

“S-so good!” You cry out. “Fuckin’ me s’good, Sunwoo!”

“Yeah?” He bends you over again, this time hunching over your body and humping into you like a dog in heat. Your back arches into him, your body shaking with seemingly neverending pleasure. “Gonan cum f’me?” Sunwoo’s arms are all over you, pinching at your nipples, squeezing your waist, gripping your ass. His lips place firm kisses onto your spinal cord, sucking hickies into your skin that no one but him will see.

“YES!” Your voice breaks and you cum again, squeezing so tightly around his cock that he emits a moan so loud and sharp that you fear you’ve broken him. 

Sunwoo pumps white hot cum into you in thick ropes that spill out while he continues to fuck you, overstimulating you both. The mixture of your cum drips down your legs and onto the fabric seats, and you pray that whoever sits back here after you doesn’t notice the white stain in the middle seat, doesn’t think to ask about this mystery stain and that Sunwoo refuses to give them an answer.

When his hips finally slow, when his dick finally softens inside of you and he slips out, you let your body sag against the seat. Sunwoo grimaces at the sight of you, dark marks littering your skin. He hopes that Soonyoung doesn’t ask questions about the way you limp into your classes the next few days. You hope he knows better by now than to question it. 

“For a sophomore,” you wheeze out while you roll over. Sunwoo runs his hands up and down your thighs, smiling thoughtfully. “You sure seem to have lots of experience.”

“Never judge a book by its cover, babe.” He squeezes just above your knee, running his tongue across his lips when he sees more cum dripping out of you. You catch the fiery look in his eye and groan while you squeeze your legs shut. He groans when you use one foot to kick him back against the door opposite you. 

“No,” you scold him. He looks like a kicked puppy.

“Whyyyy,” he reaches for your legs again and you push him back even more. 

“I’m tired, Sunwoo.” You say but he just crawls on top of you with a mischievous grin.

“You won’t have to do anything,” he bargains. “Jus’ wanna taste you a little. That’s all!” You glare at him.

“One time.” His eyes light up and he pries your legs open again. “You get one more from me tonight, Kim Sunwoo. You hear me?”

“Mhm!” He dives straight into you, knowing that this was far from the last time he’d get you to cum in his car tonight.

“I still think that you should be thanking me,” Eric shuts the door of Sunwoo’s car with a sly grin. 

“For what?” Sunwoo asks exasperatedly. 

It had been less than 24 hours since Sunwoo had fucked you in his car and officially made you his after a long year and a half of pining. He was tired. His body was tired. He didn’t have the energy to deal with his best friend this early in the morning, or at all really. 

“For getting you guys together! It was my idea, anyway.” Eric clicks his seatbelt into place and runs a hand through his dyed red hair. “Where are your car gummy worms?” 

“Center console,” Sunwoo puts the car in drive and has barely begun to ease his foot off the brake when Eric lets a gasp so violent and loud that he slams his foot back down again. “What, what happened?” He slams the car back into park, his face going white when he sees what his best friend is dangling between two dainty fingers. 

Black lace panties. 

Your black lace panties. 

“Sunwoo…you didn’t…” Eric chokes out with a mix of disgust and heartbreak on his face. Sunwoo rips the panties out of his best friend’s hands and shoves them into the pocket of his jeans. His face feels like it’s on fire, his heart pounding out of his chest. 

“Do not ever speak of this to anybody. Ever.”

“You fucking FREAK!”

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

#blackoutorbackout🍻 #itsbeeble #reese's moots 🩵 #ally~ ⛄️ #fawn~ 🧼 #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop smut #kpop fluff #the boyz #the boyz imagines #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #the boyz fluff #kim sunwoo #kim sunwoo x reader #reese's works 📩 #reese's pieces 🗞️ #kim sunwoo smut #kim sunwoo fluff #sunwoo smut #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo imagines #sunwoo fluff

[zwedexx]

AWFC x English-Italian Reader - Introduction

Summary: Reader is playing in a champions league game and get severely injured

TW: Injury?

WC: 645

A/N: Injury won the polls so injury it is. Nothing is proof read. The angsty and more serious stuff starts with the Chapters. Also this is my version of the Arsenal-Lyon game (December 15, 2022). I think the 1 or 2 next chapter will go from December 2022 to ~December 2023. Anyways, share your opinions and suggestions. Also requests are open and I'd really love to try my hand at requests so please submit some.

You joined Arsenal at a young age, 17 years old. You were a bombshell when you landed in the WSL. You might have grown up in England but you were Italian by birth and ancestry. You brought 3 Italian things with you, your defensive style, hand gestures and a last name no commentator could pronounce properly.

You quickly gained a reputation for being fearless LB, you weren’t necessarily a dirty player but you had being compared to Katie a few times. You were willing to make a risky tackle or sacrifice your body if it meant you’d stop a goal. You were never the tallest on the team, that distinction going to the Swedes and you weren’t the biggest but you had heart and stupidity. 

Now here you were a full year, 4 goals, 5 yellows and 1 red later standing in the tunnel of a group stage champions league match against Lyon. 

You felt this odd sense of nervousness, this was your first start in a champions league game but it was unusual for you. You were taken out of your thoughts when you felt Viv’s arms on your shoulders as she guided you out of the tunnel. 

The match was quite uneventful for the majority of the first half, Lyon had some good chances and so did Arsenal. Your nerves had calmed down, you were focused. You had even stopped a breakaway from Malard. 

Lyon’s best chance was in 45’+1. Bacha had a free kick from right before the halfway line. She passed it to Morroni then it came back to Bacha who launched the ball over the crowd. You had been tracking Gilles, the Lyon centerback, you knew she was excellent with her head and if it touched the ball it was sure to be a goal. You saw the ball fly over, hit Horan and go back up into the air. You jumped high, trying to reach the ball before Gilles can get a head to it and you succeeded. You felt the ball hit your head and you loosed up a bit, forgetting that the opposing player head was still in motion. Instead of heading the ball, Gilles collided with the side of your head. You feel a sharp excruciating pain, something you’d never experienced before then nothing. You were out. 

“Y/N.” You could hear a faint sound of someones voice shouting your name. 

“Y/N can you hear me.”

You tried to move, tried to open your eyes but you felt trapped in your own body. Nothing wanted to work. It’d take a few moments before you’d gotten some control back and you were able to open your eyes. 

You were completely surrounded by medical staff, it was sort of overwhelming but you were able to spot the voice calling you, Leah. You could see the worry and panic in her face, you wanted to give her a smile or a sign that you’d be okay but it was hard enough to keep your eyes open. The medics were attempting to speak to you but their words were just faded noises and before they were able to finish you felt your eyes roll to the back of your head and you were out once more.

The next you remembered was machines beeping. This incessant beeping that made your head hurt each time it went off. Waking up this time was far easier, you had more control and you felt a little more awake. 

“Y/N, for the love of god please tell me something. “ Leah had notice you’d woken up, Jordan had also been in the room but was asleep on the couch next to 4 other bags likely from other teammates that had stepped out.

“Y/N, can you understand me.” Leah asked again, hoping, praying for any response. 

“Leah… What- What happened” you croaked out.

Leah face lit up from your response but there was pain behind eyes. You could see tears begin to well up.

“Too much, Y/N/N, too much.” 

#woso one shot #woso #woso x reader #arsenal wfc #arsenal women #woso fanfics #woso community #woso soccer #womens football #engwnt #woso imagine #woso couples #leah williamson #ol féminin #olympique lyonnais #vanessa gilles #vivianne miedema #selma bacha #perle morroni #lindsey horan

[imisscherryboy-blog]

running back 2 u

enemies to lovers — football player! ajax x sports med! gn reader

part 2 part 3

spotify playlist ★

story: you and ajax have known each other since elementary school. those years haven’t been always the best, as you both parted ways due to your differences in personality. that is, until one hot august night, where the stadium lights illuminate the turf, you find yourself running back to him again.

notes: enemies to lovers, modern au, gender neutral reader, childe is referred to as ajax, last name tartaglia, american football, all characters are 18+ as seniors, highschool setting, use of american education system, reader is in a sports medicine class (if you don’t know what that is it’s basically students that help out at school games, usually water girls/boys/people, assist with injuries) i wrote this with the pov of the reader being a POC but if you’re not just disregard when i say white and stuff lmao + part 1/?, title is an nct reference, debating eventual smut, kaveh and alhaitham are gay

side characters featured: kaveh, alhaitham (alhaitham x kaveh)

warnings: swearing, vivid depiction/description of injury

★ part 1 of an ongoing series ★

you hated ajax and ajax hated you. that much was safe to say. ever since that incident in 9th grade, you never talked to him, let alone acknowledged him. before that, you both had known each other since elementary school. everybody loved ajax, his teachers, his peers, and even you. he just had that personality that made everyone love him; but you knew him underneath that persona. you knew his flaws and he knew yours. he’d tell you things he’d never tell anyone, he trusted you. but, all good things come to an end. in the summer going into your first year at highschool, you found yourself never wanting to speak to him again. he ultimately became the person you two would make fun of together in prior years. a typical, white, football player. but damn was he a good running back. he used to be so charming, but now he was just a playboy that had a new girl in his bed every week. you hated him for it, you hated the person he became, but you mostly hated how he’d plague your mind like a disease.

the day of the game finally came. you and kaveh both wore your school’s varsity jackets and jeans. you guys trudged the god foresaken orange gatorade cooler out to the field for the junior varsity and freshman team. the jv game had just finished, and you began setting up for the varsity game.

“y/n, i can tell you’re scared about ajax.”

“wow kaveh, you’re sooo observant.” you said sarcastically as you both were now in the utility room, filling the water bottles for the players.

“listen, you probably won’t even have to talk to him. as much as he likes to talk behind your back, he’s scared of you. you literally know EVERYTHING about him, you could ruin his reputation in milliseconds.” kaveh had a point. you knew his deepest and darkest secrets, but he unfortunately knew yours as well. you screwed the last lid of the water bottle on tighter than usual as you responded.

“thanks kaveh, but promise me you’ll be the one giving him his water, not me.” kaveh laughed as you said this.

“i’d actually be more than happy too! he’s pretty fine anyways…”

“kaveh— please.” you sighed as kaveh only laughed louder. you walked out to the field, the sky a pretty hue of pink as the jv players left and students filed in the bleachers for the real game. you made your way to the bench, right next to the field and placed the water bottle trays down, as cheering filled the stadium, you both looked behind you.

“ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, our undefeated, five-time league winners, the varsity football team!” the announcer said as the cheers only got louder. the varsity boys ran onto the field, ajax leading the team. you rolled your eyes. you’d admit, he looked good in the navy blue and white jersey, adorning the number 11. ajax was the captain and star of the team, his stats practically outdid any other running back in the county. he ranked first for almost every category, he was a good running back, you’d give him that at least. but at that moment, a feeling came over you. you felt jealous. jealous of the new cheerleader girl he was seeing, jealous of his success, you irrevocably hated him.

“god alhaitham looks good.” kaveh said, very much distracted when they began to sing the national anthem.

“you’re shameless, kaveh.”

“well, the national anthem definitely did not include gay people so…”

the game began, and the annoying and repetitive chants from the cheerleaders almost got stuck in your head. they even had a special one for their glorious star boy tartaglia! you could give zero fucks about him and his stupid chant, but you couldn’t help but notice him staring you down as the rival team took a time out. he gulped his water, sweat dripping from his slicked-back hair, before returning back to the field. as promised, it was kaveh’s job to offer him water, not yours. when one team scored, the other followed suit, the game was neck and neck. watching ajax skillfully receive alhaitham’s (the quarterback) throws and run it was something you could watch all day. but you hated him, so you pretended to look busy every time the home team ran a point. it was halftime now, and you and kaveh hung around the bench. they were up by only two points, it was practically anyone’s game, but that’s what makes the epic highs and lows of highschool football, right?

“swear to god, ajax keeps looking at you.” kaveh whispered to you as you refilled the green water bottles. the boys went into the team room as you and kaveh stayed outside. ajax’s fan girls in the stands had finally calmed down. you just looked at him and looked away as you continued to fill up the water. “like, every time he scores a touch down, he’ll do his stupid little celebration and he’ll glance over here—and then i’d look at you, and of course—‘oh, she’s trying to look distracted and pretend to not care again!’.” kaveh rolled his eyes at you, looking at you for an answer. “you still care about him, don’t you?” this time, you didn’t look at him and just stared at the bottle.

“yeah, like i’d give two shits about the school fuck boy. it’s just, i can’t help but remember how he used to be, that’s all.” it was a blatant lie, and kaveh knew. but he decided to stop pressing where it hurts. and just like that, half time was over and the team looked spent, but they still had 30 minutes to clutch. the cheers started up again. another touchdown, and chants of his name were the only things heard in the stadium. you felt surrounded. you just wanted to go home.

finally, the seventh minute began. the scoreboard emitting a soft glow displayed both home and away teams tied. everyone on the bleachers were all sat for these final minutes. including you. you watched intently with kaveh and your sports med teacher on the bench as they hiked the ball.

“alhaitham, number 9 is going for a throw,” the commentator’s voice reverberated through the field. alhaitham spots ajax, right on the 30 yard line, centered on the field. alhaitham takes a couple steps back and throws, the ball spins with accuracy. the crowd and kaveh all cheer.

“a dot! per usual from quarter back alhaitham, how many yards can their star running back score for the team!” ajax grabbed the ball and went for a right hook, swiftly dodging the defenders. he only got faster and faster as the cheers grew louder. he hooked right, and made his way for that touch down line.

“ajax! ajax! ajax!” the crowd chanted as kaveh and your teacher were now standing. you watched him closely, all of a sudden remembering back to when the two of you competed in your middle school’s flag football tournament. he had signed you up without you knowing, and you both somehow cinched first place.

“oh my god—” kaveh’s gasp snapped you out of your thoughts, as you looked onto the field.

the bleachers were silent now. ajax laid on his side, clutching his knee. the ball was long forgotten now.

“it appears number 11 is down.” the commentator remarked. your heart sank to your ass. you knew that knee injuries could fuck up anyone’s career in seconds. especially a running back’s. before you knew it, you were standing, your teacher yelled something to kaveh as he began running toward him to see what happened, you stood frozen. the cries of his fan girls behind you were the only things you could hear, kaveh was trying to tell you something, but you kept looking at ajax’s writhing body and back to kaveh, and back to ajax, and now at the rival team, and back to kaveh.

“y/n! are you listening? this is serious!” kaveh’s voice was almost a yell.

“i-i’m sorry, what do you need me to do?” you blinked a couple times.

“get the ice pack!” he yelled as kaveh made his way to the scene, the rival team went back to their bench as they were in small groups, most likely talking about what happened. you grabbed the ice pack from the cooler and ran over. his eyes were screwed shut as he cursed loudly, your teacher asking where it hurt.

“ah fuck, my knee! motherfu—” ajax bit back his curses with the back of his hand. your teacher radioed for a golf cart, which made you confused because you’d think someone would be calling 911.

“shouldn’t we be calling an ambulance..?” alhaitham asked, kneeling next to kaveh and ajax’s head. kaveh visibly looked flustered.

“y-yeah. we should! as a matter of fact, why don’t i just call them right—” your teacher cut kaveh off as he interjected.

“it’s a torn acl, if we call an ambulance right now, all they’ll do is give him some ice and painkillers which we very much have. we’re not spending 6k for an ice pack. save that money for the surgery.” your teacher remarked.

“the what..?” ajax looked at him with wide eyes as a campus supervisor came with a golf cart, the crowd was at a stand still.

“kaveh, stay here and take over for me. y/n, come with me.” you knew ajax’s injury was nothing life threatening, but you couldn’t help but worry for his future. you nodded your head as you and your teacher got into the front seat of the golf cart, cursing kaveh in your head, wishing it was him to take your place. ajax’s teammates carefully laid him on the golf cart and he cursed at them to be more careful. you rolled your eyes.

“ajax, we’re gonna need you to talk to us, we can’t have you passing out.” your teacher drove the golf cart to the recovery room, making sure to drive slowly over any bumps.

“you want me to talk? well, a torn acl is gonna ruin my goddamn career—fuck!” the golf cart jerked forward a little, making him curse.

“it’s probably not completely torn, ajax. you’ll recover in no time.” your teacher said.

“you’ll probably be out for the season.” you added, you couldn’t help but add a little salt in the wound.

“you’ll be out for the fucking year if you don’t shut the fuck up.” ajax snapped back at you.

“you need some ice dipshit?” you turned around with the ice pack and tossed it onto his knee, making him yell out in pain.

“what the FUCK is wrong with you—” he yelped in pain again, you just rolled your eyes.

“y/n! cut it out! you too, ajax. we’re here.” the teacher took the key out of the golf cart and looked at you. “i need to call his parents and file a report for the insurance, i’m trusting you to patch any cuts and tape his knee for the time being. keep the ice on it—and please don’t assault him.” your teacher was already on their way as they headed towards the office. you didn’t even get a minute to protest.

“no fucking way they just left me with this loser.” ajax scoffed from the back seat of the golf cart.

“at least my knee still works.” you grabbed the key and unlocked the recovery room, it had a couple of medical beds and cabinets filled with all kinds of medical equipment. you turned the lights on as you heard ajax outside yell.

“now you’re just leaving me? jesus, i couldn’t have asked for someone better to help me.” you ignored him as that was not what you were doing. you went to the smaller room in the back to get a wheelchair to get him onto one of the beds. you walked back outside, ajax’s face turned from one of pain to an angered look the minute you stepped outside. you wheeled the wheel chair to him.

“get on.” you said with little to no remorse.

“yeah let me just fly onto the fucking wheel chair why not. can you help me?” ajax yelled as he tried to sit up straight on the back seat. you scoffed and somehow got him onto the wheel chair. you both were silent, but you knew when ajax went quiet, he was overthinking. you knew he was thinking about what he’d do with his injury. you decided to give him something else to think about.

“it’s not that bad ajax. you survived skateboarding into a brick wall, i’m sure you’ll be fine.” you brought up an old memory the both of you shared.

“everyone saw. even the fucking scouters—i’m done for.” your words seemed to fly past his head. almost like he forgot about you and his’ history. you helped him onto the medical bed and made him sit straight so you could tape his knee. you went into the back room to get more ice. from the main room, you heard him start talking again.

“when i ran into that brick wall, you were the only one there. i didn’t have scouters that could get me d1 scholarships.” he remarked. he did remember at least. you came back with a roll of medical tape and some ice.

“you need to roll you pants up past your knee.” you went for the straight forward route as anything else would’ve gotten too awkward.

“yeah no fucking way that’s happening, cut it off for all i care.” you figured getting the leg of the pants over his injury wouldn’t be the most best of things, so you grabbed a pair of scissors and cut his pants just above his thigh. he hissed in pain even though you didn’t even touch it. he was always this dramatic, you thought to yourself. you unrolled the pieces of tape and got to work. if ajax was good at football, you were the best at sports medicine. you knew how to wrap an ankle like second nature—a big part of the reason why your teacher asked you to assist, not kaveh. he went quiet again, and you’d much rather have him yelling at you than overthinking the situation after all this.

“how’s teucer?” you asked as he hissed whenever you’d place a piece of tape on his knee.

“w-why do you care? can you be any more gentle?” you looked up at him and kept working. you weren’t any gentler, you just worked slower to make it look like you were. he fell for it easily.

“he’s fine. he just graduated elementary—ow, school.” he responded after a minute passed.

“that’s good.” you said in quieter-than-usual tone. you couldn’t deny it was still awkward between you two. you hadn’t had a conversation like this in practically years, and you never thought you would have to. “so what exactly happened out there? you trip or something?” you knew he didn’t trip. you also knew that ajax had a tendency to overestimate himself, overall causing him more harm than good.

“the turf must’ve been off.” he said looking away. ajax was well aware he let himself get cocky. it was the final minutes of the game and he wanted to end it off strong. in doing so, he got himself a torn acl. good going ajax.

“mhm..”

“what? don’t believe me?” before you could answer the question, your teacher walked in. the first thing ajax asked was if they won the game or not. his “half touchdown” didn’t count, leaving them still tied.

“we won. but it was still a close call.”

ajax looked like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. he was already upset with his injury, and a loss especially with their title as undefeated would be 10x worse. you tried to look normal, but in truth, you were a little happy for the team. after all, you had some sense of school pride.

“your mom is outside. i’ve talked to her already and explained the injury in length. please focus on resting, then let’s talk about your next games.” with that, your teacher left you both alone again.

“can you walk?” you asked.

“i’ll try.” he said wincing as he got up. you went to his side and put his arm around you. it was silent. you helped him to the parking lot, occasional swears were heard from him. you said his mom waiting outside of the car.

“oh sweetie!” ajax’s mom held him tightly.

“hi mom, i’m fine.” his words were muffled into her shoulder.

“oh goodness, let’s get you in the car!” she helped him into the passanger seat. they spoke to each other in russian, it sounded like he was getting scolded. it was none of your business anyway. after doing so, she came back out.

“y/n? i remember you!” she said, giving you a hug.

“hi mrs tartaglia.” ajax’s mom had a soft spot for you. she’d always pack you extra food, and would never fail to treat you like one of her own, it made you happy. due to the circumstances, you hadn’t seen her in what felt like years.

“how’ve you been? we’ve missed you!” her hand stayed on your shoulder, her voice was genuine. but who exactly did she mean by “we”?

“i’ve been alright, thanks for asking.”

“ajax still talks about you, you should come over some time! teucer and tonia miss you!”

huh?

did you hear that right?

maybe it she didn’t actually mean it like that, why would ajax still be talking about you?

ajax rolled down the window and stuck his head out.

“mom i’m hurting let’s go.” he half shouted.

“alright, alright. i’ll see you soon hopefully, y/n! thank you for looking after ajax!” she said with a warm smile as she got back in the car before you could say a word. you simply waved and smiled back at her. you glanced over for a second, seeing ajax on his phone. you didn’t understand. did ajax really stil talk about you? you’d have a lot to tell kaveh..

the two of them left the parking lot in their black tahoe suv. you just stood and watched. you cursed to yourself. you couldn’t understand why ajax’s words pulled at your heartstrings a little. you were confused. and things would only get more confusing from there.

#childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin x you #childe x y/n #childe x you #genshin imagines #genshin fanfic #ajax x reader #genshin ajax #enemies to lovers #genshin au #genshin modern au #genshin impact #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #gender netural #childe x fem!reader #childe x male reader #childe x gn reader #genshin school au #eventual smut #kaveh x alhaitham #genshin kaveh #genshin alhaitham #series #genshin series #first fanfic #poc reader #my first fanfic very nervwracking this has been in my drafts for so long and if you know some of the references reblog bc i put a lot of th

[lovepookie]

₊˚ෆ Promise - p.gw

♡︎ sypnosis: star-football player park gunwook probably can’t play for the rest of the season due to an injury sustained on the field. but more than that, your boyfriend park gunwook is in pain—and you’ll hop fences, run past security, and go to the ends of the earth just to get to him; that’s a promise.

♡ genre: fluff, slight angst, sports fic, established relationship, boyfriend!gunwook, fem!reader

♡︎ 2.0k word count

♡︎ warnings: gunwook in pain, injury, reader crying, cursing, playful threats, pet names, please let me know if there are any you’d like me to add!

♡︎ nano note: it’s wookie’s b-day!!🥳 i decided to go ahead and post this au today because of the sporty themed b-day he has going on! enjoy! xoxo

.♡︎.

You let a blood-curdling scream out as your boyfriend was rolled off of the field on a gernie, obviously uncomfortable, his stupid gummy smile smiling through the pain.

“I-I’m- I’m fucking leaving!” You yelp over to your family and friends in the stands as you’re suddenly up and onto your feet, running over to a security gaurd to beg them to let you on the sidelines of the field.

“He’s- I’m!- Please I’m his girlfriend, he’s hurt!” You plead, on the verge of getting on your knees with your hands clasped together.

You just needed to know he was okay.

That’s it!

That was all!

You were going to worry yourself sick, the tightness in your chest mixed with the taste of blood in your mouth suddenly becoming all too much. It seems you’ve broke the skin on your lips in nervousness, and as soon as you swear things are t asking a turn for the worst, the security guard sighs and moves aside to let you onto the field.

Your eyes shoot open and you’re quick to yell a couple ‘thank you’s’ because oh my god, you could kiss the gaurd right now.

“Thank you so much! I’ll never forget this sir!” You shout as you run down the stairs. Once your shoes hit the grass you’re gone—seemingly just like the wide receivers on the field during a hot game day.

As soon as you get to the openings of the tunnel, more security gaurds are on standby, but they most definitely didn’t prepare for a woman out of her fucking mind to sprint at full speed and straight past them. They all shout and yell after you as you cut through random corners and corridors in hopes that they lead you to the injured love of your life.

Once getting past an area labeled ‘Infirmary’, you’re met with more security, and oh my god there he is.

He’s in pain, sweat dripping down the sides of his temples as he clenches his jaw shut, eyes closed.

“Miss, how did you get in here? You aren’t allowed in-“

And like a light switch, he’s opening his eyes to meet yours.

His jaw unclenches, and his lips are upturning in seconds.

“She’s with me,” He says, and if he wasn’t sprawled out on a hospital-grade inspection table, you’d think he’s in zero pain all of a sudden.

The security gaurds sigh and fidget for a second as they send each other conflicted looks, but they let you in anyway. Still, getting into trouble and facing the consequences of your actions for trespassing is the least of your worries at the moment.

Like clockwork, your eyes are on him and the smile he shoot’s you as you make your way closer. By this time, your eyes are pooling with tears as he scrunches his cute little nose in discomfort—but his smile never faulters.

“Tiny, why are you crying?” He says through a laugh, calling you by the infamous nickname he gave you. It didn’t matter if you were taller or smaller than him, he loved to coddle you.

You can’t help but smack him on the shoulder as you sit down next to him—much to the dismay of the sub-coach and therapists currently in the room.

This definitely gaurnered you a couple side eyes.

Still, his laughs continue as his dark fluffy hair bounces about, his gummy smile causes a warmness in your chest and alerts the caretakers that he was just fine.

“Why am I crying? Are you serious? Why am I crying?!” You repeat loudly, brows furrowed and very angry at how he wasn’t taking this seriously.

Still he laughs, gaze softening as he stares you down and leans over, beckoning you in for a kiss without saying a word. You lean down reluctantly, your lips connecting to the corner of his mouth quickly before you’re pulling away.

“Gunwook, I’m not playing with you. You better tell me your condition right now before I beat it out of you.” You threaten whilst pushing his bangs out of his eyes, your actions in complete contrast to your words.

He giggles again, leaning as best as he can to get another kiss, but only able to make it to your chin. You just stare blank-faced as you eye him and don’t help him out at all in his efforts to reach your lips again.

“Oh, you’re calling me by my name now? I swear I’m fine, it’s nothing-“ He reasons, stars in his dark eyes, clearly very amused at your current worked-up state and the hard front you’re putting up now despite it.

Without letting anymore bullshit fall from his lips, you turn to the physician therapist who you note flinches for just a second.

“Uh- His kneecap was dislocated, we just finished doing a repositioning before you arrived. With some elevation, ice and rest—maybe a bit of physical therapy…he should heal in about six weeks or so. As for getting back on the field, it could take longer.” He states, looking at his paperwork.

You shoot Gunwook a glare.

This was nothing?

A dislocated fucking kneecap?

“What? Tiny, I’m fine. It doesn’t even hurt.” He says, adoration in his gaze.

You aren’t convinced.

The doctors in the room aren’t convinced.

“A dislocated knee? Wook I saw you right before you were made aware I was here. Stop being like that-“ You nag, feeling terrible that he feels he can’t suffer outwardly on an effort to stop you from worrying.

He just smiles a very playful smile.

“Mini…how did you get in here?” He says, giggling out another nickname.

Was he serious?

Was this why he was practically shooting you heart eyes? Now it was evident to you that he was day-dreaming about the amount of things you probably had to do in order to get to him.

Boy was whipped.

He was insane.

And you, frankly, were done.

With one swift movement you go to stand and walk out, but he’s quick to try and sit up, grasping at your figure. He doesn’t get anywhere near touching you however, because his quick movements and straining causes a wince to fly past his lips on impulse.

You’re quick to snap back to him, your pettiness no match for your baby in pain.

“Oh my god- Stop moving! Fine! I won’t leave, shit!” You say, coming right back to his side and holding his hand as his nose scrunches back up again.

He grapples onto your hand with his and the warmth from them puts him at ease through the pain. Gunwook allows himself a couple more grimace’s as he settles back down before he’s opening one eye to look at your worried state.

He lets out a pained chuckle again, his fingers now going to lace with yours.

“Hmm, your jokes about swiping my ankles and snatching my knee-caps are off the table now, huh?” He questions jokingly, looking at you again with those curved eyes, the prettiest one’s he could possibly muster whilst in pain.

You sigh but crack a smile at this, your other hand going to clasp at your intertwined hands and bringing them close to your chest as you lean forward on his table.

“No, it’s even more ironic now. Your kneecaps are forreal mine.” You joke back, finally letting a calm energy settle in now that your boyfriend is able to joke around even during the most intense pain.

He just chuckles with pursed lips, letting his eyes close against his high cheekbones that are raising whilst he tries to bite back a grin.

Gunwook was smitten.

Even in situations like this, he felt you were perfect for him.

Yes, he was upset that this probably meant he had a season ending injury with how his sub-coach walked out of the room with a pat to his purple-jersey-covered shoulder, but he was very touched to see you make so much effort to be by his side and be so worried for him.

“Tiny, how much do I owe you?” He asks through closed eyes.

You tilt your head in confusion.

“What?”

Gunwook smiles, finally opening his eyes and looking over at you.

“How much did you pay to get in here? Seriously, who did you pay off?” He jokes, his other hand going up to shield his gummy laugh.

You roll your eyes.

“It’s not funny! I was crying so hard they probably felt pity and decided to let me in finally! Damn! A girl can’t go see her injured boyfriend? You could’ve been on your death bed for all I know!” You exaggerated.

He continues to smile at you, whilst taking in each of your features. It was the kind of gaze that made you shy around him. Your relationship dynamic was more like best friends, but it was at times like these where he made you feel like a giddy school girl.

It was terrible.

“Wah~ You just love me so much, huh?” He asks as his thumb rubs over the top of yours.

You roll your eyes.

“Park Gunwook, you should see yourself right now. You were in so much pain but now look at you…in pain but all smiley…tsk tsk.” You tease back, and he glares at you through pink cheeks.

“Exactly.” You jokingly confirm as he glares.

You let a genuine smile raise to your face for the first time since he was carried off the field after that fateful football play.

He just stays silent as he watches you, then lets a grin grace his face again.

It was like it belonged there.

“You didn’t even make the touchdown.” You mutter, deciding to continue teasing him, knowing he could take it.

He feigns a facial expression of faux hurt, grasping at his heart as he gasps. “Wooow~ So that’s how it is?…wow, okay.” He says, shooting you an all-knowing look.

“That’s okay though, because you still scored.” You say, deciding to be witty.

He looks at you, lips pressed into a thin line and trying not to laugh.

“What? What’s the punch line? That I scored you?” He laughs, completely and utterly enamored and equally irritated with you.

You nod as you laugh out, feeling like the smoothest and funniest person in the world.

“I know, I know! I’m so funny, sexy, and cute!” You muse, flipping your hair back.

Gunwook just smiles at you in annoyance, but he’s quick to nod at your statement. “Yes,” He starts, “…I can confirm you are all of those things.”

And just like that, you’re blushing and sending him a side eye.

He always knew how to turn your jokes back in on yourself. He was always the smoothest in the room.

“Aye~ Don’t sweet talk, you’re not getting out of this. Who told you that you could get hurt?!” You nag, trying to avoid the subject.

And the conversation went on just like this.

When his teammates finished the game with a win and came over to check in on him, he held your hand the whole time. When they left, he continued to conversate with you by his side, and it took his mom coming in for you to realize hours had gone by.

“Alright, thank you for staying with him,” Your future mother-in-law states with a smile, “…we’ll send you the details of which hospital we end up going to.”

“Alright, thank you.” You say and send her a smile, then steal one last glance at Gunwook.

He too was smiling at you already, that loving gaze still on display. You roll your eyes and smile back, waving at him.

Before you could turn to leave, however, he’s waving you over for one last hug.

When you walk over and lean into his arms, he whispers into your hair just loud enough for you to hear; “Don’t worry Tiny, I’ll make sure you don’t have to pay anymore people off to get to me. I promise.”

He was so annoying, maybe irritating at best—and your heart swells.

In that moment, when your cheeks flush and your heart-rate picks up, you know his words hold purpose—they were particularly chosen and uttered with meaning.

“Funny, Wook. Don’t hurt too much without me.” You tease then kiss his forehead when you pull away; making him feel like the baby girl that he is.

Right in front of his mom.

You had no shame.

“I’ll see you later! Promise!” You shout out to him, walking backwards down the hall until you couldn’t see his flushed state anymore.

It seems even through pain and unforseeable circumstances you two would always find each other.

That much, was true.

It was a promise.

2024 © lovepookie

♡ please do not plagarize, repost, copy or translate any of my works. thank you.

#. . . nanowrites #lovepookie/au.doc #park gunwook #park gunwook x reader #gunwook x reader #zerobaseone gunwook #zb1 gunwook #zb1 fluff #zb1 masterlist #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone #zb1 au #zerobaseone fluff #zerobaseone x reader #gunwook fluff #zb1 imagines #zb1 scenarios #zerobaseone masterlist #zb1 #zb1 x you #gunwook imagines #gunwook au #zerobaseone au #park gunwook au #zb1 reactions

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴 𝚃𝙾 𝙶𝙾

description: In reader's last game of her career, her wife and team make sure she understands how loved she really is

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vicky losada x female reader

disclaimer: I am in now way saying vicky is bi-sexual or lesbian, this is all fiction

warnings: language, bad google translations as per usual!

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y/n just posted

liked by losada_vicky, lucybronze and 298, 374 others

y/n spooky season... 👻

view all 11, 238 comments

username1: she is so pretty kill me now! 🙀🙀

username2: HOW CAN YOU LOOK LIKE THAT 😳😳

username3: love love love it!

losada_vicky: Jesus, I am a lucky woman... 🤯

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y/n: proud to wear Losada on my back baby ! 🩷

username4: UGHHHHHH

username5: PLEASE MA'AM 🔥🔥

username6: Break me like a glowstick I beg

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y/n: ya'll need to touch grass oml 🤨

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username6: OMG OMG ❤️❤️

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Twitter/X

username1: I don't know if I can take it today - I cannot believe it 😭😭

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username2: I am going to miss her so much.

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username3: She is only 33, why do you think she is retiring? 😶

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username4: She was really badly injured during her second world cup, her ACL tore, cracked two ribs and gave herself a dent in her skull, so...

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username3: well, then that makes sense...

username5: I am so used to seeing her, I am going to miss her so much! 😭❤️

username6: I AM GOING TO CRY THEIR FUCKING STORIES GOD NO ❤️

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When the whistle blew, y/n couldn't believe it, the air was pulled from her lungs and as her teamed cheered in relief from the win, a tear dropped down her cheek at the idea of leaving for real this time.

Her wife wrapped an arm around her and the team swarmed her soon enough, a lot of people crying as they enjoyed a last group hug with their captain of four years.

As they pulled away, y/n looked out at the crowd who were screaming, cheering, waving Brighton Flags for her, and she laughed tearfully and waved out at them in thanks.

"Right." Vicky's voice echoes a microphone held in her hand.

"My wife has given a lot of her life to Brighton, and she honestly loves everything about this club, the players, the staff and especially the fans. I love this club because of her." Vicky says.

The crowd aww's at that, and y/n smiles sadly as she watches her wife who was looking around, proudly talking about the one she called her own.

"She may be retiring, but y/n Losada will be remembered for years as the best Brighton, fan, player and Captain because she has changed so many lives in the course of her own." Vicky finishes.

The crowd erupts at that, cheers showing such agreement to Vicky's speech that the captain covered hr face and took a deep breath, trying to stop from bursting into tears.

A microphone was somehow passed to her, and y/n shook her head, but the chants of 'speech speech speech' were telling her she was over-ruled.

"Um, wow, where to start?" She asks. "First of all, I came through the Brighton academy and played on a senior pitch at the age of 16. I am now 33, and after a brief few years at Barcelona, am honoured to have done my final game here." y/n begins, the crowd cheering for her.

"I am so grateful to every fantastic person on this team, in this club and in this crowd. Because you have made my job the easiest thing in the world." y/n smiles, her wife chuckling and wiping a tear.

"My wife is crying, though I wish she wouldn't because we both know, if I play any longer, I will be sewn back together with how many injuries I have got." y/n laughs, her hand coming up to cup her wife's face lovingly.

"I won't say much more, but thank you for your support, thank you for your love, you will all always have mine. Thank you Brighton and Thank you football. See you around!" y/n finishes and the crowd bursts into cheers.

Two loud bangs happen and y/n jumps before laughing in shock at the fireworks that had been set off from the stadium, the officials giving her a proper goodbye as people cheered.

"y/n! y/n! y/n! y/n! y/n!!" The crowd cheered, repeating her name over and over while the Brighton team piled on her one last time. y/n knew she'd enjoy being a wag, but she would miss football.

Vicky wrapped an arm around her, pressing her lips to her lover's temple as the woman sighed and relaxed in her hold, finding comfort in her wife's warmth.

"I know my love, I know." Vicky promises.

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y/n just posted

liked by, losada_vicky, brightonfc and 429, 736 others

y/n

Words cannot express the pain I have saying goodbye, football has given me a family, several teams, a wife and so much love.

I may be hurting, but I heard you all and I am so thankful for you, and the happiness you gave me tonight and always shall never be matched!

Thank you all so much, I have had such a fantastic time in this career. I will see you all soon, when I am fulfilling my WAG duties!

All my love

y/n Losada xx

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losada_vicky just posted

liked by y/n, alexiaputellas and 392, 921 others

tagged y/n

losada_vicky There may have been several reasons my wife took a step back from football. We cannot wait to meet this reason. ❤️

view 11, 376 comments

username1: OMG OMG AHHHHHHH 😱😱

alexiaputellas: congratulations you two! Cannot wait! I will be favourite Tia!

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marialeonn16: No I Will Be!

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onabatlle: honestly I think I will be ☺️

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y/n: @losada_vicky baby, I am just realising how many aunts this child is going to have. 😂

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lucybronze: They're all idiots I will be the favourite aunt! 😌😌

username2: English and Spanish national teams as aunts, jesus some people just live the life I dream!

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username3: This baby is going to be so loved holy shit

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username4: And the entire Brighton team as well!

leahwilliamsonn: HOLY SHIT AHHHHH ❤️❤️

_bethmead: SO EXCITEDDDDD ! ❤️❤️

keirawalsh: so proud and excited !!! 💙☺️

username5: :( I miss her playing already 😭

y/n: Can't express how much I love you, I am so excited! Serás una mamá fantástica.

you will be a fantastic mama

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losada_vicky: I love you and our baby so much

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username6: I am not crying you are.

ellatoone: I AM CRYING OMG 🩷

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alessiarusso99: HONESTLY SAME 🩷

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mbrighty04: SAME

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racheldaly3: SAME

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khiara.k98: SAME

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lj10: same

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y/n: I love you all so much xoxo

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lucybronze: @lj10 you ruined the 'SAME' chain there mate with your lazy lowercase

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lj10: 🖕🏾🖕🏾

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lucybronze: 😚😚

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END

flufffffffff

kinda love this, kinda don't

meh

-

Queenie xx

#social media woso #woso #woso x reader #woso x y/n #woso community #woso soccer #vicky losada #vicky losada x y/n #vicky losada x reader #vicky losada imagine #brighton hove albion women #lionesses x reader #england lionesses #engwnt #alessia russo #alexia putellas #mapi leon #ona batlle #spanish womens team #lauren james #ella toone #mary earps #rachel daly #millie bright #leah williamson #beth mead #lucy bronze #keira walsh #khiara keating

[emmyrosee]

are u down 4 sum lil angst?? well, i'm just curious how would it be being the famous star volleyball player, Sakusa Kiyoomi's TOTGA?

YOU HAD N O RIGHT MATE

ok so fun emmy history, back when I was a wee child and before the miya twins were even a thing, i wrote a self insert that I’m still weirdly proud of today so congratulations, you scratched that memory HHEISBSOSN-

Hey! Future Emmy here. so... major tw; kiyoomi is very mean, extremely toxic, and i for sure went overboard, but there's a lot of blaming and yelling and just. ugh. this piece hurt my own heart smh.

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But listen. You slipped into Sakusa Kiyoomi’s life surprisingly. He wasn’t expecting you or even just to date at all, you were just at the right places in the right times where he finally felt at ease in your presence. You just understood who he was beyond surface level, and he’d never had that in someone before.

You loved him before he was cool, before he was anyone other than a top ace in Japan. You were the first to tell him it was okay to mess up, do something other than eat drink and sleep volleyball, even if he wants it to take up most of his time.

Time, he no longer has, when he gets injured.

It wasn't like it was an inopportune time- though, as a college athlete, there really is no good time to get injured- if anything, it was spontaneous and had he not had dreams of making it big, he'd never think twice of it.

But he gets injured. Junior year of college, just as his name starts to grow in the industry, and he gets injured. Bad ankle, it’s actually a former injury from his childhood that apparently didn’t heal right.

There’s articles that spread about Bokuto Koutarou, how he’s climbing the ranks and how Miya Atsumu, the same little rat who bothered him in high school received an offer from god knows what team, and he’s fuming.

That should be him and his setter getting those offers and climbing that ladder, it’s been him and him alone for years, and he knows it's bitter to hate people for their successes, but its not fucking fair, he deserves more than this.

He deserves more than doctors trying to encourage surgery to heal at the sacrifice of volleyball, he deserves more than flowers and cards of best wishes, more than Miya Atsumu texting him to see if he's okay, he deserves more than any being on earth could give him.

And that includes you.

"Baby, did you finally call the surgeon?" You ask, coming in with a water bottle and a cup of his meds.

Apparently, that's more than enough to set him off.

"I don't need surgery."

He hears you sigh, "the doctor says the tear is too big just for physical therapy, you'll need the extra support-"

"In case you forgot, I was fucking there."

His breath becomes hot, and he can't peel his eyes from the commercials playing on the tv. The room suddenly feels suffocating, and of he could will himself to do it, he'd apologize and tell you he loves you, he's just tense and hurt, and he's grateful you're here, and-

"I'm the one who's life is going down the tubes. Fun fact."

The other thoughts in his mind are static. merely an incoherent buzz. You're his victim now, to his ugliest sides that therapy and his family prodded back years ago.

There's no one to prod it back now.

"I... I didn't mean any harm, I promise-"

"You really shouldn't talk to me right now," he snarls, rage bubbling and clawing away at his soul. There's a bubbling of tears that rip at his waterline in a demand to fall, but he's blinded to anything else.

He hates his life. He hates his ankle. He hates his doctors for telling him it may not heal right ever.

He hates you.

"Kiyoomi, please-"

He bears his teeth like a dog in an attack, and you flinch back slightly. "If you hadn't fucking distracted me, this never would've happened." He hears you whine in your throat.

he ignores it.

"I was fine," he barks. "I was happy before you. I was strong, I was powerful, I was a damned force to be reckoned with." He crawls closer to you on the couch, and when you cower to try and get away, he chases your body with his torso.

When you stand up, he does too. His leg lights every single nerve up in a blaze of agony, but he's too gone in his own rage to think about it.

"I... I know you're mad, but please, sit down Kiyoomi-"

You're right.

"Shut the hell up!"

Even on one foot, he towers over you threateningly. You bring your hands up to try and force distance between you both; your touch does ground him slightly, but not enough to stop his scorn.

You sniffle softly, clearly uncomfortable, "you're just mad... and that's okay. Please stop shouting at me, we can make this work, kiyoomi."

Now, his eyes are scalding with furious tears.

"I want this to work, oomi... please, stop shouting-"

“It doesn’t matter if you want it to work,” he snaps. “I’ve got a plan to stick to that’s already been screwed because of us, AND IT'S YOUR GODDAMNED FAULT!"

When you sob and crumple to your feet, there’s a small part of kiyoomi that comes to, the words suddenly sour on his tongue. He feels… confused, he doesn’t know where it came from inside of him, but the way your eyes water from his words snaps him back to reality.

“I’m… im ruining your plan?” You choke, and god kiyoomi wants the floor to engulf him whole. Because duh, of course now you’re not he’s just the scum of the earth, you’re all he can think of wanting in this shitty life, but he can’t say that, not when your hands cover your mouth in distress and horror, tears slipping over your fingers. He feels the blood leave his face when you take a step back, followed by another, then one as you turn on your heel to leave.

“Wait-“

“No, Kiyoomi,” you snap, and its his turn to feel your rage, your head whipping to look at him in betrayal. “No. I’m officially done waiting for you.”

And despite the fact that he wants to chase you, wants to gather you in his arms and pin you to the wall and demand you listen to him, listen to why his plan has changed and how you’ve completely ruined all of it in the best ways, he can’t. His leg throbs at the mere idea.

He just. Stands there, frozen for god knows how long, staring at the long slammed door, wondering if you’d come back for something you’d forgot in your exit. Something dumb, like a charger or a water bottle, something easily replaceable but you wanted from him just as a last chance makeup.

But you don’t. And once his good leg starts to cramp from standing there, he slowly moves his way to his bedroom.

And he’s fine. Honest!

Sitting by himself in the cold of night gives him more time to think about the future. The one without you, of course. Limping around the dorm on crutches makes his arms ache and knees weak, and the backpack on his shoulders making him fall forwards is plenty to make his elbows strengthen up (they’re withering away) and his breathing circulate (he’s breathing back tears of pain and frustration.)

He can’t… he can’t do this without you.

Call him selfish, but his life was not only easier with you around, it was better, it was fun to love you and have you scream his name from the stands, but now that seat is occupied by someone else when it should be yours and yours alone.

He’s tried to get over it. He’s tried to get everything in line, get you the hell out of his mind but he can’t.

You’re different. He hates you for it. There’s something about you that refused to leave his mind and soul. Every time someone is interested in him, he feels disgusted because every crush is based on appearances now; it never was with you. Every time someone laughs, his first thought is how much he misses yours. When one of those stupid fast food commercials comes on in the late hours of night, he smiles sadly as he remembers the way your eyes would meet his and you’d beg him for some fries at ungodly hours.

He has to move on. It’s been fucking years. Why hasn’t he moved on?

Any sane person by now would have moved on, passed through his heartbreak and try to find another, but he’s so emotionally unavailable at this point. Every thought and every reminder that plagues him continues to hit like a ton of bricks every time.

Maybe it's guilt.

No, its definitely guilt.

He loved you, more than you could imagine, he appreciated you more than he can express, and to show you how much you mean to him, he blamed you for his failures.

No wonder he deserves to be alone.

And just when his exhaustion can't grow, his self destruction and crumbling self worth can't get lower, he gets thrown in another circle of hell that he seems to find himself in; this time, in a coffee shop he frequents. Not too many familiar faces, just a couple blocks from the train, and up until that point, only having known him as an alias.

Until today, when the Gods decide to torture him a bit more.

“Name?”

“Sakusa,” he says, not even thinking as he scrolls on his phone. There’s a high pitched gasp from the girl, and it makes his eye twitch.

“NO WAY!!! Oh my gosh, you’re THE sakusa kiyoomi?! Oh my gosh, wait, hold on- can I get a picture? No, wait, you’re not into those- can I get an autograph? I knew you looked familiar, my sister and I watch you play all the time! I’m such a fan!-“

“Uh… thanks. Can I have my tea-“

The girl doesn’t answer, instead, she calls for her co-worker who barrels out in equal excitement.

On any normal day, kiyoomi would snap. He’d scold and snarl about how rude they were, how he’s still a fucking person who just so happens to be good at volleyball, but he’s like a deer in headlights. He’s too surprised at his own stupidity of not using his usual alias, how damn tired is he?

There’s a weight that feels like a ton of bricks that settles on his chest once he hears the line behind him complaining about how long it’s taking, then people behind the register flashing pictures that have him blinded and asking him questions he doesn’t want to answer, he just wants his tea for God’s sake and-

“HEY!” There’s a snap from someone at a table, and it breaks up the small, impromptu paparazzi at the front. “People are trying to work here, and not get a damn seizure from your damn pictures!” He feels all that anxiety break on his shoulders once they cower away. “And shame on you all!” They continue, the line slowly parting to let them continue shouting. “He may be famous but he’s still a damn person! Make the fucking drink and GO!”

Kiyoomi doesn’t want to look. Even if he’s eternally grateful for them, he knows that scold and he knows that bravery to call out random people for their shiftiness.

Because it’s the same thing you used to do all those years ago.

He winced and pulls the mask higher on his nose to keep himself concealed- as if he’s not a 190.5 cm monster. But you don’t say anything about anything that just happened, you must be deep in your work to not process just exactly who you were defending.

He gets his tea with a quick apology from the baristas, and he heads to the door to leave.

….

…right?

He’s gone. He’s on the bus, headphones in and heading to practice, audiobook putting him in a new world where his only current connection is the hot tea in his hands.

Right?

There’s always been a table on the bus, a table he rudely stalks up to, where you’re sitting and typing away furiously at your laptop and massaging one of your temples, too engrossed in your work to notice the outside hitter standing just in front of you.

“Uh…” he chews his lip nervously. You don’t look up.

This is the chance Komori’s been talking about. If he doesn’t take it, he’s going to hate himself forever.

“Thank you for standing up for me back there.”

“You’re welcome.”

He sighs staggered, “can I… uhm… repay the favor?”

To his extreme relief, you offer him a small chuckle, “maybe you can recommend a coffee shop where random cele…” your voice drifts off when you look up at him, jaw frozen open and eyes wide and dancing all over his face. You’re both just staring at each other, breathing ragged and tense, and his brows furrowing to try and hide the guilt and absolute need he has for you to continue the conversation.

You clear your throat, “your uhm… your foot healed uh… well.”

He wants to, but can’t, fight the snort that sneaks past his lips because that’s about the last thing he thought you’d say. But he sees you crack a smile too, and it’s worth it.

“Yeah,” he says after he clears his throat. “Yeah, I’m playing professionally now. Minor aches here and there, but nothing unusual.”

“So you got to stick with your plan,” you hum sadly, and his heart stops. “That’s wonderful, Sakusa. Im glad to hear it-“

“But my plan never felt complete,” he interrupts, and he sees your nostrils flare in annoyance. “I-I-I thought I knew what I wanted, but god, I didn’t. I don’t, I’ve always only wanted you.”

You offer him a shrug, “Kiyoomi, I was an intruder in your life; I can’t blame you for that, I shouldn’t have been there-“

“I wanted you there.”

“Clearly you didn’t,” you snip, and finally, he sighs in defeat. “You made it just fine without me in your plan.”

Fuck it.

If he’s here, he’s gonna lay all his cards, give you every last thought of his and leave you one more time to pick up your shattered pieces.

“I miss you.”

You freeze, but there’s a glazing of your waterline before you slowly, tensely, turn up to look at him.

“Don’t,” you snap. “Don’t do this, Sakusa.”

“I can’t help it,” he says, own voice twinging raw. "I hate it too. I hate that I've had to carry this weight with me for all these years, years I should've been with you, kept you safe and happy, and I couldn't even do that."

"You shattered what we had. Don't ever forget that."

"I never have been able to."

There's another silence surrounding you both, suffocating and hot and thick, and he gets flashbacks of a scenario not too dissimilar, where you're looking up at him with those same, betrayed eyes.

But your gaze doesn't last. It crumbles before you let out the breath you'd been holding, a sign that you're not going to waste your energy on him anymore, "you're too late, Kiyoomi. You don't get to miss me anymore."

When your hands shift to close your laptop, he sees it. The massive, heavy rock on your finger, glimmering under the soft lights of the coffee shop.

Kiyoomi feels sick. He could faint right now if his pride would let him. Instead, he swallows the bile in his throat and grits his teeth, giving you a smile and a casual scratch of the back of his head, "that's... that's awesome! I'm happy for you."

"Don't be," you smile sadly.

"Why?"

You shurg, "you don’t have to be happy for me. I’m happy for me. He's a friend of Bokuto-San's. Set us up not long after we broke up." Then, you sigh shakily, "I'm just here for work, I won't taint your coffee shops for much longer." It was an attempt to break up the heavy silence.

He could puke right now if he didn't feel completely defeated. He could strangle Bokuto in devastation.

In his younger, naïve efforts to drive you away, he drove you straight to someone else's arms.

He nods and chokes out a small "alright," before spinning on his heel away from you

He makes move to leave the coffee shop, but before he does, but before he can, he turns back to face you, trying to get one final look at you, soaking in your presence and soul before you vanish from his life forever. He calls your name, and you look at him one more time with that big, beautiful gaze.

"Do you believe in the one that got away?" he asks, and you process his answer before slipping your computer in your bag.

"Yeah. And I believe I'm yours- but you were too worried about losing volleyball. Now, I guess we all got what we wanted."

His veins turn icy as he tries to blink back the hot tears searing his waterline, turning his head to dodge your knowing eyes.

Everyone got what they wanted.

Except for his broken heart, of course.

#BRO 2800 WORDS SHUT UP #DONT LOOK AT ME #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa kiyoomi angst #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader angst #sakusa kiyoomi haikyuu #sakusa kiyoomi imagine #sakusa #sakusa angst #sakusa x reader #sakusa x reader angst #sakusa x gn!reader #sakusa imagine #sakusa haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu angst #haukyuu x reader #haikyuu x gn!reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x yn #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #tw toxic #tw toxic relationship #toxic tw #toxic relationship tw

[oh-saints]

hi ! would you be down to do a fluffy and funny social media au or an oneshot for a ødegaard!reader dating charles leclerc in secret because they're scared of martin's reaction, but martin tries to set one of his teammates up with reader and charles gets jealous and accidentally reveals their relationship ?

matchmaker

charles leclerc x odegaard&model!reader (ft. martin odegaard the big bro)

word count: 1k

notes: as a pain relief from my angsty works...? teheee but i can totally imagine protectivebro!martin towards his sister irl tbh and i hope you like this bcs this is my 1st time doing something related to socmed au! but as usual, i wrote this at dawn so this is yet to be beta-read.

ig pics taken from aimeesong's instagram; others taken from pinterest and tumblr.

yn.odegaard ✔️

liked by odegaard.98, yourmomig, emelie.odegaard, and 57,980 others

yn.odegaard only the best for your partner. @/tiffanyandco #tiffanypartner #ad

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odegaard.98 please get a real boyfriend

yourbff lucky bastard he is 👀

→ yn.odegaard girl don't spill anything here...

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

“ah, the honorary son of our family is here!”

martin didn’t waste his chance as soon as emilie opened the door, only to reveal a particular monegasque racing driver standing before his youngest sister.

charles, being sweet as ever, hugged the giggling girl—it’d become odegaard family’s joke that emilie had been secretly harbouring a crush on the handsome lad—before giving her a small box of signature chocolate from whatever country charles had just arrived from due to the nature of his job. the playful jab martin threw at charles was ringing truer than ever before as the mother of the household walked out of the kitchen, leaving whatever dish she was making to engulf him in a bear hug, whispering silent grace to god that charles had survived another deadly week of racing without a scathe.

which she’d never done to any of her other children, by the way. not even when martin was bleeding from the scraps he’d gotten due to the gruesome nature of football, week in and out. in her defence, martin hadn’t been anywhere near death—not even life-threatening injury—whereas charles grazed the door of hell every time he was working, should his reflex fail him for a mere second difference on that asphalt.

you might be wondering how charles, a monegasque royalty at this point, was subtly adopted by the odegaards, a norwegian footballer family. it was a wonder that never ceased, too, to be honest.

except for you, who’d been the one who opened the gate to this crazy crossover.

you’d shot to stardom because of your social media activities, back when martin was still a madrid player. long story short, your follower count was what sealed your ticket to the catalunya grand prix as a guest for a famous spanish fashion brand, which resulted you being ushered to the ferrari paddock for the brand’s main ambassador, carlos sainz, who introduced you to his teammate, namely charles leclerc.

did it answer your question as to why charles could be found ever so often around the odegaard’s residence? probably not, and the odegaards felt the same way, too, in all honesty. one day, you brought him home for dinner and the boys had been so excited to have another boy at their close proximity to play football with that they even skipped the whole interrogation thing.

thus, them thinking charles was your best friend.

when in fact, he had been anything but.

it was actually within your purest intention to introduce charles as your boyfriend that night. partly because for the first time, you’d managed to snatch a fine specimen of a gentleman as your boyfriend instead of adding another male to your pile of boy/friend. but mostly because you and charles had every intention to be serious about your relationship—like marriage serious.

you had actually prepared both charles and yourself for a long investigating query from your brothers—in their name of being protective and all, and despite your exterior of despising them for that, you couldn’t help but love them all the same. but it seemed like those two older siblings of yours just thought charles was another boy/friend you met due to the nature of your job, or probably due to your extrovert trait.

did you ever bother to correct them?

lots of times, you wanted to break the label kristoff and martin was giving charles. but it was your boyfriend who held you back, grasping your hand in his in a gentle pressure under the table. when asked afterwards, he’d always answer with, “in due time, we will. for now, I’m focused on gaining their favours.”

so you stayed put. after all, you had been a firm believer that only a man knows other men best.

but it seemed like it’d change after tonight.

“you really should look for a boyfriend,” martin slipped in the thoughts he’d already put on her instagram’s comment section in the midst of the table going around her newest campaign. “you’re glowing when you have a partner.”

you couldn’t help but scoff. “what do you know from a picture?”

“we’re saying that you look so good in your last campaign, probably because you found a perfect partner for the shoot. now imagine if you have a real boyfriend…” kristoff added and you rolled your eyes at your oldest brother. the guy in the picture was actually the one sitting beside you, your boyfriend of almost a year now, so of course you glowed like you’re in a relationship.

“do you need my help to set you up with someone?”

kristoff’s eyes widened at martin’s so-called brilliant idea. “you’re a genius! or maybe charles can—”

“nope, no one’s good enough for her.”

charles’ statement left the entire table speechless, including yourself. you’d never heard charles spoken up so fast, with a tone so angry and facial expression so full of distaste, despite his blue eyes focused on the dish he was playing with.

“well, there’s kieran who just broke up—”

“can’t you just let your sister choose her own partner?” charles looked up and chose to shoot lasers to the head of the table, even it scared you a bit.

this side of charles was new, for he would always be seen exasperated when it involved things around racing, but it was probably because the topic was new. your idiotic brothers had never—ever—had a problem with your romantic life. tonight was the first time the duo ever sold the idea of matchmaking you since puberty waves hit the family.

charles let out a sigh so deep, you knew he regretted his outburst. “she’s all grown up, for god’s sake.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

charles_leclerc ✔️

liked by odegaard.98, yourmomig, emelie.odegaard, and 952,767 others

charles_leclerc Sorry not sorry I snatched her first

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yn.odegaard wrong account?

→ pierregasly wrong account

→ landonorris wrong account

→ carlossainz55 wrong account

→ georgerussell63 wrong account

→ charles_leclerc maybe not?

odegaard.98 charles, just an fyi: this is not how you impress your future bro-in-law

kristodegaard you guys really shouldn't have hid anything from us, not cool @yn.odegaard @charles_leclerc

emilie.odegaard i love you for letting my brothers think the otherwise all this time

yourmomig i smell this from the first time i met you. welcome to the family, son!

→ yn.odegaard YOU DIDN'T????

→ odegaard.98 are we the only one left in the dark? @kristodegaard

#anon asks #oh-saints answers #oh-saints writes #oh-saints writes requests #charles leclerc #martin odegaard #martin ødegaard #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc blurbs #charles leclerc one shot #chales leclerc oneshot #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fics #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclers fanfics #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc fanfictions #charles leclercs fluff #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader

[mrs-santoss]

Headlines - Neymar Imagines

Summary: "Why do they say that about me, Y/N? It's not like I'm fouling myself on purpose." Neymar feels attacked by what social media says about his game. Neymar's POV: Post after post, everyone was joking and calling my injuries "acting". This was driving me crazy. I don't want this to be my reputation, because it wasn't true. We went to bed with Y/N together and she fell asleep pretty quick, as always. I kept tossing and turning on the bed, so i decided to go out on the balcony and sit for a while, I don't want to wake her up with my movements. At first, this didn't bother me, but now that i'm a key player for Brazil in the Qatar World Cup 2022, this idea grew bigger. Even my most serious injuries are made fun of. It takes a few missed games for the people to realize I was actually hurt. I try not to share this feeling with anyone especially my girlfriend who's always worried about me getting sad because of these stupid rumors. The sun was starting to rise. I couldn't stop scrolling. After a few minutes, a felt a small hand massaging my shoulder. It was Y/N who woke up and cuddled up next to me. "Ney? Why are you awake, mey anjo?" she says softly, still half-awake. "I had a bad dream. I couldn't sleep after that. Why are you here, bebê? Why did you wake up? It's still early." I say to her, kissing her forehead. She laid her head on my chest and placed one hand on my cheek, I kissed her hand repeatedly. She loves it when I do that. We stayed in silence for a couple minutes before Y/N spoke up. "Amor, I can tell when you're lying." she looked up at me, her forehead touching my chin." You know you can always take to me, right?" "I know, amor. It's just that I don't want to bother you with any stupid thoughts that I might have going on in my head." I responded, looking down at her. "Bebê, anything that bothers you will also bother me. It's much more difficult for me if you don't open up to me about it." she says back to me. "I know, amor. I'm just irritated and kind of sad about everything that's being said about my injuries, you know?" I confess to her. I don't dare to look her in the eyes, I looked up at the sky. She shifted in her place, removed her head from my chest and looked at me. I'm still not making eye contact. "Ney, can you look at me, bebê?" she begs, cupping my cheeks. I hold her hands on my cheeks and lean in on her touch further and close my eyes. "Neymar?" I finally look up at her. "Amor, you're a threat to those players, because you're better than them. They want to "accidentally" foul you to get rid of you. This should only make you feel better about yourself. Look at all these amazing players, your friend Lionel. He also gets fouled in the most serious ways because he's good. And the people who say those stuff about you online are the fans of those players who injure you. It's just their opinion, amor. This doesn't define you. It will only define you if you start believing it too." she speaks softly to me, her voice always manages to calm me down. Her words were so spot on, I felt a single tear roll down my cheek. She wipes it quickly with her thumb, her hands still cupping my cheeks. "I know, Y/N. It's just that sometimes it gets too much, you know?" I say her, still sounding unconvinced about her words. "That's why I'm here, amor. I'm supposed to help go through hard times like these. I'm supposed to remind you that you're nothing they say about you.So, please don't hide anything from me." she says softly, and reaches to kiss my lips. "God, I love you so much, meu amor." I say to her. I don't think she realizes how much of an impact she has on me. I adore her. "I love you too, meu amor. So, please don't focus on these stupid things. You are amazing, Neymar Jr." she says to me and smiles softly, causing me to smile too. " Now, let's go back to bed. You have the day off, and I will call in sick so we can lay on bed all day today. How does that sound, Ney?" she asks me. "That sounds perfect, meu anjo."

#neymar masterlist #neymar #neymar x reader #neymar imagines #neymar imagine #mbappe x reader #mbappe imagine #masterlist #football masterlist #neymar jr fanfiction #fanfiction #football imagine #football imagines #imagines #neymar jr x reader #neymar jr imagines #neymar jr imagine #neymar jr

[ino-tamukas-baggy-sweater]

Forgiven - Yuji Itadori x Reader

Reader has that same starfish technique from that Megumi fic I wrote, brief explanation is it’s like a reverse curse technique but alongside regular healing like Shoko it specializes in limb/organ growth/regrowth and can also be used in horrifying ways to mutilate people beyond recognition if the user should need to :)

Also this is more platonic than romantic, but can be read either way ofc!!

Warnings: brief mentions of injuries, nothing described too in detail

Word count: 2.3k

Your legs pump hard, running as fast as you can away from the main train station. You, like every other sorcerer in the veil, could sense that Sukuna had just become an active player within Shibuya. Your breaths came fast and shallow, you knew you were panicking but you couldn’t stop running, you couldn’t steady your breath. You’d left him with Megumi and Ino and-

Oh god no, what had happened to Megumi and Ino?

The stench of fresh blood snaps you from your thoughts and you’re drawn towards it, finding yourself in the entrance of a makeshift camp, Principal Yaga stood a few yards from you speaking with Shoko. They’re both frowning. Shoko isn’t quite looking at him rather someone behind him on the ground, and you follow her gaze only to gag. You cover your mouth, tears rolling down your cheeks as you try not to hurl at the sight of Megumi’s broken body, his face covered in mostly dried blood, chest rising and falling unsteadily.

Shoko’s eyes are full of pity when you finally look away from him. “Yuji? Has anyone seen Yuji? Please Shoko, he was with Megumi and Ino when I left them,” Your voice cracks as you resist the urge to look again at your classmate’s broken body, “I promised I’d find him when I was finished w-with the transfigured humans,” You cover your mouth for fear of inhuman noises escaping in your panic. You’d left the trio to aid Inumaki in helping the regular people still alive outside the station, herding them away from as much danger as you could and healing what you couldn’t prevent.

She blinks gently, “I think if you want to find Itadori you’ll have to wait honey,” She murmurs, “The battle isn’t over, and if you go back in there there’s no telling what’ll happen to you,” More tears slip down your cheeks and she rubs your shoulder gently, “Please, just sit with Fushiguro, while you may not be able to go to with Yuji, you can help me, you can help him,” She’s pleading with you and you know you can’t refuse, especially because it’s Megumi.

“Someone’s already healed the worst of it,” She instructs, “I just need you to sit with him, work away at the smaller injuries, can you do that?” You let your gaze wander back to his body before nodding, steeling yourself as you approach him and then taking a knee at his side. Your hands hover in front of his torso, unsure of where to start, and you find yourself falling back into the training Shoko gave you.

Breathe in, channel your energy, don’t exhaust yourself, hands on his chest and breathe out. The wave of reverse cursed energy that flows from your fingertips soothes you as much as it appears to soothe him, his breathing slows slightly and you feel his heartbeat return to a more regular pattern. You let your head hang, hands slipping away from his body as you move him to a more comfortable position leant against the wall.

“Oh Megumi,” You murmur, cupping his cheek to tilt and shift his head so you can inspect the residuals of the cursed energy inflicted upon his face, “What happened to you?” Sitting beside him against the wall you lean your head against his shoulder and hug your knees. “How did it go?” Shoko calls, “How’s he looking?” “Better,” You call back, “Who was it that healed him?”

“Not sure, I could’ve sworn it was Itadori who left him here but… I’m sure you already knew Sukuna was definitely active, no telling if he still is or not,” You frown, would Sukuna save Megumi? There isn’t time for any of those thoughts, Shoko calls you away to help her with Ino who’s been stabilised but has been waiting for you for a while now.

“Hey there tiger,” He coughs, his left eye screwed shut, “Reckon you could do me a favour?” You’ve worked with, and healed, the older sorcerer plenty of times before. He’s your mission supervisor when Nanami is unavailable, and taught you how to use the more offensive side of your cursed energy as well as hand to hand combat while Nanami helped you hone your skill with a blade. You shake your head, placing a hand over his eye and clenching the other into a fist, “It’s not a favour, it’s my duty,” You mumble.

Thanks to you Ino walks away from that day with two eyes, but Megumi hobbles out supported by your shoulder with the internal scars you could not heal. You haven’t seen Yuji for about five days. You know the higher ups are looking for him, it’s all you and Megumi can seem to think about, but you have to hold out hope for him, because what else can you do but wait.

When you’re finally able to see Yuji again, you also meet Yuta Okkotsu for the first time, a second year who went through the same thing as Yuji in terms of the higher ups ordering a hidden execution. The stone-faced second year explains what happened after Shibuya to the pair of you and you can tell Yuji isn’t taking reliving the memories well. He won’t look at you or Megumi. There’s also two new scars on his face, scars you could’ve healed had you stayed by his side, but you know that’s probably not the source of his sorrow.

Once the painful introduction is over, you approach Yuji who for the most part still refuses to look at you. “Yuji,” Your voice cracks and he’s looking up at you before you can get anything else out, his eyes filled with a thousand apologies you know he won’t ever speak. “Yuji, can I… can I touch you?” He nods, looking away. You reach for him and cup his cheek, stroking your thumb over the scar at the corner of his mouth, “Oh Yuji,” You murmur.

He leans into your touch slightly, his head angled down and his eyes fluttering shut, “I’m sorry,” He whispers. You shake your head, pulling him closer and wrapping your arms around his shoulders, “Yuji, you have nothing to apologise for, please, if I’d just been with you-”

“No!” He’s quick to protest, his arms wrapping around your waist tightly, “No, I’m glad you weren’t there,” He mumbles, “Sukuna saved Megumi and I don’t know why, but if it had been you I have no doubt that he would’ve left you to die,”

He pulls back and cups your cheek, “You mean too much to me, and I know I’ve done too many awful things to forgive, but I want to keep protecting you,” You smile, your eyes brimming with tears as you press further into his touch, “Yuji, it’s enough, you’re enough, knowing you’re doing your best is enough,”

He leans his forehead to yours, his muscles still tense like he expects Mahito or whatever is wearing Suguru Geto’s skin to come around the corner at any second. “Hey, are you ready to see Megumi?” You murmur. His eyebrows pinch together, his lips thin and pale as he presses them together with a small shake of his head.

“I’ll be right here,” You murmur, “It’s okay,” He shakes his head again, cruelly slipping from your grasp and moving to sit where he can look around the hideout, scanning the shadows with his chin resting on his palms. Moving to sit beside him you rub his back gently, “Nobody blames you for anything that happened Yuji, it’s ok, let those of us who want to forgive you do just that,” You whisper, carefully omitting anything Kusakabe might have carelessly said to your face while you were caring for his injuries.

“I don’t want to be forgiven,” He refuses to meet your gaze, his voice small, “Not by them,” “You might not want it, but you need it Yuji,” With his hands in yours once again you encourage him to look up at you, “Let me be the first to tell you I forgive you Yuji, even if you don’t forgive yourself for anything, I do, and not once have I blamed you for anything that has happened,”

He pulls you closer until you’re standing between his legs and he can hide his face against your stomach, his hands clutching the back of your jacket as you feel your shirt becoming damp. His body shakes gently and you comb your fingers through his pale pink hair, “Even if everything turns to shit, at least right here and now we still have each other,”

“How is he?” Megumi’s voice is directed at you and you look up, feeling Yuji tense again. You shrug, “About the same as the rest of us,” You reply vaguely, brushing the boy’s hair gently, “Come on Yuji, will you look at me?”

“Stop! Don’t act like everything is normal!” He suddenly exclaims, looking up at Megumi, “Don’t act like nothing happened, both of you!” He flicks his gaze between you as he stands. “I killed people. Because of me, lots of people died!”

“It’s our fault,” Megumi growls in response, “Don’t be selfish and give up all alone. We aren’t heroes fighting for justice, we’re jujutsu sorcerers,” You look away, not willing to let them see you cry as Megumi’s words affect you more than you’d like to admit.

“No one can ever truly judge us, so we must continually prove the worth of our existence, and we don’t have the luxury of thinking about ourselves,” His voice has calmed slightly as Yuji listens, “We’ve just got to save people, I believe that was the original principle behind your actions,”

Megumi grabs your arm and pulls you to his side to face Yuji, your hands coming up to furiously wipe your tears away, “So start by saving me Itadori, start by saving me and L/n,” You look up into Yuji’s eyes again, the shock registering slightly as he looks back with remorse.

“Noritoshi Kamo has made plans for those involved with Jujutsu to face off in a culling game, and Tsumiki is ensnared in that,” You see Yuji’s shoulders slump and you pull away from Megumi to wrap your arms around his torso, burying your face in his chest. “So I’m begging you Itadori, I need your strength,”

The room is quiet, apart from your sniffling, and Yuji finally brings an arm up to hold you against him, the other on the back of your head as he talks over your shoulder to the others. You don’t catch their words, and you half don’t want to, the idea of a culling game is so hideously grotesque. Imagining being forced to kill someone you shared a unique similarity to just because you both exist, like a friend or a classmate.

You resign to yourself that whatever happens, you’ll stay with Yuji and Megumi, helping them get through this, no matter the cost to yourself. “What happened to Kugisaki?” Yuji asks and you pull away, exchanging a glance with the dark haired sorcerer for a moment before you both look back to Yuji.

“Oh… I get it,” He grunts, clenching his fists and screwing his eyes shut for a moment, “I GET IT!” “About that barrier,” A new face interrupts before Yuji can get much angrier, one who’s energy you recognize from Shibuya, the residuals of it all over some of the broken bodies of innocent people. He emerges from the shadows and you flinch back, grabbing Megumi’s arm nervously. Megumi shifts so you’re holding his hand and nudges you with his elbow, “He’s fine,” He mutters in your ear.

“There may be a way past it,” The man continues. “What do you mean Choso?” Yuji asks. “Mahito once stole Sukuna’s fingers and the death painting wombs, right? We can do the same thing,” “I’m sorry is nobody going to tell me who this guy is?” You blurt, “Why do we trust him?”

Yuji looks back to you and Megumi rolls his eyes, “She’s been asleep since you arrived, only woke up just before you did, she didn’t meet him,” “This is…” Yuji looks to Choso who’s eyes are intensely sad for a moment, but he glances to you, “Just think of him as my older brother,” Yuji finishes, “It’s hard to explain,”

You nod warily, sensing something so strangely inhuman about the newcomer but trusting Yuji wholeheartedly. “I don’t bite,” The man mumbles, looking away. It occurs to you that he reminds you a bit of a shy puppy, but you don’t let yourself dwell on the thought for long, “I can use my connection to my brothers to find the warehouse that lies between the outside world and Tengen’s domain,” He says louder.

“Then it’s settled, we’re going back to Jujutsu High,” Megumi murmurs. You tug away from Megumi slightly, “Have we learned nothing? Why are we walking back into the jaws of the beast??” You exclaim, “You know the higher ups have it out for us, not just Yuji anymore,”

“Don’t worry L/n,” Yuta smiles, scratching the back of his head, “Rika will protect us,” You’ve heard about Rika from Gojo before, you know she’s immensely strong, and so that satiates your worry, “We should all just try to get some rest,” The group disperses slightly and you look around, wondering if you should return to your place beside Megumi or stay with Yuji.

“Come here,” Yuji murmurs, pulling you to him and making the decision for you, “Let me have this,” He surprises you by leading you to Megumi, setting up a small bedding area next to your brooding classmate and then pulling you down into his arms.

With a plan in place and two of the people you love still by your side, you find a small glimmer of hope like an ember still glowing in your chest. Whatever happens next, good or bad, you know you will do anything to keep these people close, whether that turns you into a monster or into the best version of yourself.

A bit shorter than I'm used to posting but I'm trying to get more into posting drabbles and headcanons so I hope this is a good start to it, even if it is still in my usual fic style haha :)

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #yuji itadori #jjk x reader #yuji itadori x reader #choso kamo #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi #kamo choso

[69dias]

Hii, please can I have a lil enemies to lovers with Jude Bellingham, maybe him and the reade “hate” each other but reader gets hurt and he rushes to take care of her and confesses 😩😩💓

football players get injured — it’s a fact, one that you’ve known of for the years you’ve spent both on and off the pitch, making sure to take every precaution necessary so you don’t end up in recovery for months on end; which is logical and sensible for any player.

it’s unfortunate, though, that a certain jude bellingham makes all of your logic and sense fly out the window.

you don’t know how it starts, really; it started as just a silly argument about where to get dinner of all things that escalated into a fight so vicious that you find yourself chucking random belongings of yours into a spare duffel, vowing to never step foot in the same training facility as him, all while the ‘star-studded’ player follows you, hot on your heels.

his voice, smooth as ever, echoes throughout the empty locker room that you’re emptying out, both of your teammates left behind from the field you’d stormed out of after practice.

“so that’s it, then? you’re leaving?”

“yes, jude. I am, I can’t stand this anymore-“

“can’t stand a little teasing? god, it’s like talking to a child.”

you turn around at that, breathing uneven and eyes zeroed in on his chest so you don’t have to look at his infuriating face (for more reasons than one, but you wouldn’t admit it over your dead body).

“I’ll be out of your hair, then. if I’m such a child.”

he scoffs at that, starting to say your name, but you don’t let him continue, pushing past him with the duffel bag you only half-assedly filled, truly having no intention of actually quitting because of one guy. it couldn’t hurt to make him feel bad, though, which is how you justify the charade, choosing to focus on how you’re going to get home instead of the small pang of hurt that sends a palpable discomfort down your body at how he couldn’t care less about you you leaving because of him.

on that end, upset and on edge, you make your way to the stairs, completely oblivious to how his gaze follows you. you don’t bother to look down, judging your depth perception and the fact that you’ve been climbing up and down these stairs for long enough for there to be no reason to be extra cautious; a decision that catches up to you in record time.

you feel it before you truly gauge what’s happening, right hand instinctively flying out to grab the railing as a sharp, cold pain flies up the same ankle. your eyes lose focus for a beat, head spinning as the ache travels up all through your right side, tears burning in your eyes as you manage to sit down on the step right below the one you missed.

your ears ring, head fuzzy as an onslaught of thoughts fill you; how are you gonna get down the stairs? how will you get help? will you be able to walk? is it a serious injury? will you be able to play? how —

it’s a familiar voice that breaks you out of your spiral, one that you could pick out in a crowd, one that makes your stomach drop in a mix of annoyance and weird butterflies; your life feels like an absolute fucking cliche, too, because the voice belongs to none other than the same man who started the chain reaction to you ending up crouched in pain.

“___! hey, what the hell-“ jude finds his way to you, sitting to your right so he can put a hand over your own, the one that covers your throbbing ankle. “oh darling, does it hurt?”

you nod, his figure a faint blur through the tears that have apparently fallen down your face, but the use of the petname takes your mind off of the aforementioned pain. sure, you’ve heard it before, always making sure to send him a curt roll of your eyes when he finds you after chatting up whoever was on the receiving end of his charms, but the way it rolls of his tongue when he says it makes you uneasy. only, in a good way.

“you’ve gotta be careful,” his voice falls, mumbling something about you being clumsy under his breath as he pushes your hand away from your ankle to look at it. you lock eyes when he looks up, worried face contorting even more when he sees the tears running down your face. “don’t you cry. you’re strong, aren’t you?”

jude has never been this soft towards you, and you almost pull away shocked when his hands reach out to wipe at your tears, but you find yourself leaning into his touch. somehow, his words make you choke out a sob, before breathing in, trying to steady yourself.

“that’s it, just breath.”

“jude,” it’s all you can manage through the pain, teeth gritted as he maneuvers your ankle in a way that sends another jolt of searing pain up your leg. “please, it’s so bad I don’t think I’ll be able to play—“

he cuts you off with a warm hand pressed against your jaw, his other one stroking at the skin of your swollen ankle.

“don’t think about that. don’t you think about that now, yeah? I’m gonna get you someone to help you, and then we’ll think about the future and playing.”

he says it in one breath, no more sweet talking, which is something that hurts you more than you’d like to admit, but the consolation does it’s job. when he gets up to go, you don’t stop him even if you’d like him to stay for longer, putting your hurt ankle first.

“stay put, okay? don’t be stubborn and move.”

despite all your stubbornness, you listen to him.

-

jude ends up being great help, silently staying besides you as a medic lifts you over to the small hospice area at the training facility; surprisingly, you don’t find yourself itching to ask why he’s not leaving, and he doesn’t feel the need to go either, eyes trained on you the entire time you receive treatment.

the ankle injury isn’t that serious — it’s a minor sprain, something that’ll heal itself in a week or two, but you’re advised to not put too much pressure on it regardless, come in for regular physiotherapy, all formalities you don’t end up listening to in favor of staring right back at jude.

he doesn’t manage to match your gaze, eyes falling to where the ice pack lies on your ankle, only to reach forward and adjust it slightly so it actually reaches where you’ve sprained it.

it’s confusing, the changes in his behavior. from nearly driving you out of football to calling you sweet names and taking care of your injuries, it’s almost like he’s playing with your own feelings, and you wait until the doctor slips out to give you two a moment to call him on it, not willing to be a puppet for him to jostle around as he pleases:

“what’s all this for, hm?”

his head snaps up to look at you, eyes finally meeting yours. his are glazed over in something you haven’t really seen in him before, akin to concern.

“what d’you mean?” you have to bite back a laugh at that, his accent so sharp as he questions you right back, but the moment calls against it.

“just… all of this. the helping, the sweet names, all of it. you wouldn’t care if I left football forever just fifteen minutes ago but somehow one injury has you swooning?”

jude sighs at that, pursing his lips and looking away from you in a signature way you’ve seen him do to avoid confrontation.

“can’t friends help each other out?”

“are we even friends? you don’t even like me, jude.”

saying the last part out loud makes your heart ache just a bit, but you can’t exactly focus on it as his own face takes on a cadence of being hurt, for some reason.

“who told you that?”

“you did. you say it all the time, whenever we argue it’s something new about why you don’t like me.”

“you take those seriously?”

“you don’t?”

jude pulls back from where his hand rests on your ankle, shaking his head slowly.

“I don’t. I really — I don’t.”

“you can leave-“

“I don’t want to. I really, really, genuinely like you, ___. And I can’t believe you don’t see that.”

“what, are words of vitriol your love language?” your remark gets a laugh out of you, but he doesn’t seem to catch on to the joke.

“what’s vitriol…”

you bark out another laugh at that, watching as his gaze zeroes in on your face properly. you think of him, how ridiculously attractive he is, you think of his voice calling you darling, and you think of him saying he likes you:

“so what, do you like me as a silly friend to joke around with?”

he doesn’t answer, so you continue.

“because if you like me in any other way I need you to tell me. please.”

desperation doesn’t sound good on you, but you let the plea slip from your mouth because if there’s one thing you hate more than injuries, it’s miscommunication.

“no it’s -“ he takes a deep breath, fiddling with his fingers. “it’s… a lot more than just me liking you as a friend.”

you look away, suddenly feeling hot.

“I guess it’s like… when kids pull the pigtails of the girls they like on the playground, y’know? only I guess I took it too far and made my girl think I hate her.”

the possessive article makes you exhale, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips until you have to bite your lip to stop from being too giddy.

“your girl, huh?”

he grins, more unabashed than you.

“yeah. why? don’t like it?”

“I like it. and for the record, I think I like you a lot more than I’m willing to admit.”

“good. because if you didn’t, I’d for real fling myself off the stairs.”

#football fanfic #football fanfics #football angst #football smut #football/reader #football fluff #football x you #football players/reader #football players x reader #football imagine #football player fluff #football players fluff #football players smut #football player smut #football player angst #jude bellingham/reader #Jude Bellingham x you #Jude Bellingham smut #Jude Bellingham fluff #Jude Bellingham angst #Jude Bellingham oneshots #Jude Bellingham drabbles #Jude Bellingham imagines

[dontexpectmuch]

My God! Please do a part two of the girlfriend 2 years older than the jude! I need it!

jude bellingham dating someone that’s older than him could be like…:

pt. ll

though teasing might not be an official love language, it sure is one of judes. he never had any problems to tease those he liked the most and with you, whether it was fortunate or not, he liked to do it the most. “hey, grandma.” would be one if his usual greeting, accompanied by a smirk dancing on his lips.

groaning and laying down after a stressful day at work or university was normal occurrence for you, running around to get some papers or organizing meeting throughout the day strained your muscles a lot. however, jude thinks it’s really funny, laughing at the sight of you buried in his hoodie and laying in his bed, as he carries some tea and snacks on a tray to the bedroom. “c’mon, can’t be that old now, can ya?” rolling your eyes, you huff, sitting up to take the sweets, “you don’t understand how hard it is to run around all day, okay?” you put some sweets in your mouth, eyes looking at his laughing face. “yeah, like, oh man, poor you. running around all day, how tiring!” - “jude!”

jude really appreciates that he is able to come to you whenever he needs advice. yes, you two understand each other well and you both are mature enough to deal with most of your problems on your own, yet he feels relief wash over him when you give him the advice he needed. it’s almost like him being the player and you being his coach, telling him how to deal with certain situations the best way.

“babe, babe, babe.” jude chants, tapping your foot repeatedly. his body laid at the end of the couch, your feet next to his upper body. “yes?” you ask, putting your book down to look at your boyfriends comfortable form. maybe you should go and lay next to him? let his body warm up your own. “jobe asks what he should get her.” - “his crush?” - “yeah, that one from barbecue.” jude nods, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. you stayed quiet for a bit, thinking about what he should get his crush. “tell him,” you begin, sitting up slightly, “her favorite book and a single rose. but, it should be wrapped up nicely.” you tell him. jude immediately starts to type your words onto the phone, muttering a quiet ‘thanks.’

you tend to use the ‘i’m older and have more experience’ -card when needed, since jude could be stubborn at times that were unfortunate. for example, when telling him to rest due to his injuries. at first he refused to do so, but your stern eyes and crossed arms convinced him to actually listen to you.

“do you really have to leave?” jude asks, sulking as he stood in front of you at the airport. you drove together, to spend as much time as possible before your flight. it was a short business trip, but apparently too long for jude to handle, as he was pouting and sulking all day long. “love, ‘t’s only a few days.” you smile at him, tilting your head aa your fingers affectionately scratch the back of his neck. “just stay at home, no need to leave.” he tries once again, hands resting at your hips, “who’s going to take care of me now?” he continued. rolling your eyes, you step back and begin to walk to the security line, “i knew that you only dated me for me to be your maid.” - “babe, nah wait!” he laughed, jogging after you.

————————————

reader might be even more years older, you decide :)

#football one shot #football x reader #x reader #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham x reader #football #jude bellingham #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fluff

[tomsparkyr]

Being tuchels or Southgates daughter and mason having a crush on you. You can make it smut if you want to. (Who doesn’t love a smut with mason:))

𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

summary: having a crush on the gareth southgate’s daughter is hard, especially everyone in the room can see the sexual tension between the two of them.

masterlist.

mason mount x southgate!reader

mason mount x fem!reader

warnings: mild smut because i’m rubbish at writing but i need sexy mase, small injury mention, fluff, sex references, the england team boys, nothing else?

word count: 1.4K+

thanks for the request! p.s sorry this is so late,, i went on a break from tumblr but now i’m back x

don’t steal any of my work please, thanks!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐍’𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏 staring the minute you walked out the doors. You were wearing a small white dress that hugged your waist and puffed at the shoulders, the material hanging elegantly around your thighs. Mason practically thanked God for making summer a thing and seeing you in those beautiful dresses and those shorts he adored more than Declan.

You were absolutely capturing, no matter the day: you were the most beautiful person in Mason’s eyes (and no doubt the world thought so too). His cheeks flared everytime you entered the room, he was whipped to say the least. His heart would pound everytime you came in close proximity to him, eyes taunting as he knew you knew what you were doing to him. Safe to say, Mason Mount had the biggest crush on you.

But the cherry on top of the cake, the thing that made Mason’s crush just that little bit more unbearable: you were the Gareth Southgate’s daughter. The manager of England, the national club he played for. Fun.

Little rundown of what would happen if Mason supposedly dated you, remember: Gareth Southgate’s daughter. 1. His job and career would be at major risk. Finding out he was making out with the manager’s daughter, that’s not exactly going to look good for possible transfers.

2. Your status would be ruined, headlines would be switched to the worst of words about you. Imagine if the public found you had got in on with your dad’s players, immediate sentence for Mason instagram fans.

3. His ass would get beat. Not just by Southgate, but by his teammates. You were Gareth’s daughter and now practically sisters to the entirety of the England team, all treating you with the upmost respect. So if they ever saw Mason locking lips with their metaphorical sister. Punches to his face, multiple punches (Grealish has his hands ready.)

If you couldn’t tell, it’s basically physically impossible for Mason to date you; so all he can do is admire from afar. For not very long.

The shrill sound of the whistle being blown straight in his head made him jump back and whack his arm on one of the mannequins, hearing laughter from his mates beside him. Southgate had the whistle in his mouth, a glare at Mason’s way, his finger pointed at him. “Back to the drills, Mount.”

Mason brushed off the embarrassment of what just happened, you clearly could tell as you covered you mouth and the corners of your eyes creased; he could tell you were laughing at him.

He winced when he saw a small cut on his finger after abruptly hitting on the edge of the object while trying to cover his tracks of not-so-subtly staring at you.

Declan peered over Mason’s shoulder to see what he was whining about, then glancing down at the split on his finger; a small smirk on his face.

Rice waved his hand up in the air, calling for someone. “Hey! We have a bleeding finger over here!” Mason looked behind his shoulder at his best friends with confusion written on his face.

“Yeah, it needs help. Y/N do us a favour and take Mase to fix up his cut!”

Mason’s face paled at his words. Southgate pulled his attention away from the training, eyes flickering at the tiny ounce of blood barely dripping from Mason’s finger. He shook his head, “Rice, I don’t think he needs help. It’s football not—“

“Nope! Nope, it’s practically falling off. Mase, go follow Y/N she’ll show you where the plasters are.”

Declan pushed his friend forwards to step closer to you, your hand out for Mason to take. Before Mason followed you off of the training grounds, Declan whispered, “I’ve just got myself a guaranteed spot on the bench next match for talking back to the coach, atleast make a goddamn move.”

Mason nodded abruptly, fear danced across his face at the sheer thought of being alone with you. Butterflies burst in his tummy as he watched the white dress sway between your legs he oh-so adored, the ones he wanted around his waist.

You led the way into the empty room, medical kits scattered around the room, large tables and massage beds adding to the decor. You looked back a Mason, his figure standing awkwardly at the entrance, you smiled sweetly at him and patted the seat in front of you and the kits. He took the seat, heart racing and fighting back a blush he knew was bound to slip out.

You looked in his eyes. “Right, let’s see it.” Mason’s mind fell straight to the gutter.

“Wha— What?” His cheeks tainted a rosy red, spluttering on his words and hands suddenly clammy.

“Your cut.” You blinked, brows furrowed and heart picked up a pace as you knew instantly what his first thought was.

“Right. Right.” He swallowed, holding his hand out for you to take. He felt your hand touch his, the smooth skin of your fingers tracing everywhere but the cut, deep in thought and concentration. He lifted his head up to watch you bite your lip and inspect the injury. You looked up at him and locked eyes. “Okay, I think you need—“

“I love you.”

“What?” You retorted on instinct, Mason’s eyes widening and taking a deep breath in.

“No—No, I don’t love you, I don’t even like you!”

“Oh.”

“I mean, I do love you!”

“Oh?”

Mason practically died right then and there. Your face was pale and so was his, hearts racing and hands still touching. He stared deeply into your eyes. “Fuck it.”

He lunged forwards and locked lips with yours. Immediately slipping his tongue into your mouth and gripping your thighs to yank you onto his lap. Your hands thread through his hair and tugged on the brown locks you adored so much.

Your breaths became quicker, more needy for each other. Mason couldn’t bare the thought of not having every inch of you on his skin. He felt your hands slip to underneath his shirt, tracing the abs on his stomach.

Mason smirked into the kiss the more he felt you toy with the ends of his england jersey. He nodded into the kiss, allowing you to pull up the top and over the top of his head, leaving him shirtless and more hot and bothered than ever.

His hands moved further up your thighs, far under the dress and resting towards your ass. He groaned into the kiss, feeling you grind on him slightly in response. “I can’t tell you how badly I’ve wanted this—“

“Goddamn prescriptions, man.” You both pushed away from each other hearing the whine of Ben Chilwell outside the medical room. You whacked your back on the desk trying to fix your dress as Mason scrambled to find his shirt you threw across the room only a mere few minutes ago.

The door opened, Ben walked in and froze at the sight of you, Gareth Southgate’s daughter with the skirt of her dress scrunched up and red marks on her thighs poking out; and Mason Mount, the golden boy, shirtless and hair all over the place.

Ben’s mouth fell agape, a finger pointed between the two of you, “Did you two—“

“I was just fixing the cut on Mason’s finger.” “Yep, yep. The cut, that cut.”

Ben squinted his eyes, “So that’s why he’s shirtless?”

Mason snapped his head towards you, begging you for an answer he simply could not sum up. “It’s the summer, gets hot in buildings. You know?” You nodded nonchalant, lips pursed together as Ben grew a smirk on his face.

“So that’s it. That’s all that happened.” Ben nodded slowly, seemingly convinced in the eyes of you and Mount.

Mason perked his chin up confidently, “Yeah, just whacked a plaster on that cut and back to training we go. Walk with me, Ben?”

Ben smiled at Mason, “Of course, Mase.” The two headed towards the door, Mason pressing a kiss to your cheek quickly as soon as Ben turned his back to the two. A breath of relief came from the two.

“That cut was pretty narly, huh?” Ben said to Mason, his brows furrowing.

“You don’t have a plaster on it.”

Mason froze on his spot and snapped his head towards you with your eyes wide. Fuck.

Ben Chilwell knows Mason nearly shagged the Managers Daughter.

#mason mount fluff #mason mount imagine #mason mount #mason mount smut #mason mount x reader #mason mount x you #mason mount masterlist #mason mount fanfic #mason mount angst

[pokemoncenter]

Introduction

Hello. My name is Sophora. I am a Pokemon veterinarian. I live in Unova, but at the time of this writing, I am beginning a temporary stay in Johto to assist with a research project.

My blog is mostly thoughts and discussions of Pokemon care and science, as well as what photos I wish to share.

I am a former member of Team Plasma. My duties were to care for Pokemon injured by human deeds, and assess whether they could be released into the wild. Though I was nothing more than a child in training at the time. I wish to be clear that I, along with most Team Plasma members you will ever encounter, were fooled by Ghetsis, and truly do wish for improving the lives of Pokemon.

My sole Pokemon is a Zorua named Beans. I have had her for many years, and she is my dear companion.

I am often told I have no sense of humor, so please do not expect much in the way of jokes or banter from me. I am also often called rude, or at the very least blunt.

I will speak often on Pokemon care, as mentioned. I will answer any questions on Pokemon care when I am able, though I am mostly only familiar with Pokemon of the Unova region, and some of the Kanjoh region. I also will often speak on the life of a veterinarian and what sort of things one is expected to do in this job.

The difference between a Pokemon veterinarian and a Pokemon Center, for the record, generally involves overall health versus injuries. If it was a problem or health issue that came from battle, you go to a Center. If it is an overall health issue that did not come from battling, go to a veterinarian. Generally, we will refer you to the other one if you got it wrong.

My hobbies are reading and photography. I have given lectures about Pokemon care at conferences before, and I enjoy trying new foods. I am something of a coffee enthusiast, as well.

Most people I mention on this blog, I will be changing their names. This includes myself- Rotomphones should not replace basic internet safety for you all. The main exceptions will be people on this site who use their real name, and people who are otherwise too famous that it would be pointless to try to change their name.

I look forward to pleasant conversations with you all.

//OOC under the cut!

Player is over 21.

All posts will be tagged with 'pkmn irl' and 'unreality'.

This is, obviously, a Pokemon IRL rp blog.

I intend to not get involved in high stakes with the possibly exception of Team Winter stuff, or things that otherwise catch my interest. Most of them will be assumed to not happen.

Some notes on character canon!

Sapient Pokemon do not exist. There are rare exceptions, but they are extremely special and noteworthy. Pokemon intelligence varies, but generally they're animals. As a result, I would prefer not to interact with sapient Pokemon blogs, and if you do, Sophora will assume that you're a child roleplaying.

Legendary Pokemon are rare. The mainline games are canon but generally, Sophora doesn't know a lot of what happened. If it wasn't on the scale of Kyogre and Groudon, Sophora probably didn't hear about it! Sophora does not believe in a lot of legendary Pokemon as a result.

I do not do the whole 'magic anon' thing and such asks will be ignored.

Human-obtainable superpowers are Aura and psychic powers. That's about it. There are no other superpowers. Legendaries do not give children superpowers.

Legendaries may have been worshipped as gods but are not gods. There is no Arceus-based religion. People do not worship Arceus and do not treat it as the Christian god.

Most products that get parodied do not have the Pokemon parody names, and they just have the real world name. However, it is an in-universe meme to force Pokemon names into the product name, and that's why everyone has such differences (i.e. the proper name for the place is Starbucks, but some people call it Starlybucks and others call it Staryubucks, because it's a meme, not the real name.)

I want to avoid crossover stuff, it is not to my interest.

I want to try to keep to the tone of Pokemon as much as possible, so I'm going to be ignoring most things about murder and killing (unless it is a Cubone's mother).

Sophora can be, and often is, wrong about various subjects. However, she is a veterinarian and thus generally going to be correct about Pokemon care. Please do not show up to just correct me and claim my character doesn't know what she's talking about.

I try to avoid getting involved with the 'multiverse' stuff. As far as Sophora is concerned, there is only one reality, and it's hers. Please do not get deep into the weeds on that with her so I don't have to think about it too hard.

Animals exist! Pokemon are part of the ecosystem but normal animals exist, too. They just don't come up often because they aren't relevant.

Sorry if that sounds like too much stuff! I just wanted to be very clear from the outset.

EDIT:

If you are not someone already relevant about it, I will not acknowledge any asks where you try to prove legendary Pokemon. It's much funnier if Sophora refuses to believe in them. For understanding of the gag, please watch this video.

Sophora will not ever see or acknowledge a Legendary Pokemon outside of very specific circumstances. Please do not try to force the issue.

#pokeblogging #unreality #pkmn irl

[nakanotamu]

GOD okay, so. The Stardom Situation. I'm bored at work so I guess this is The Post. I was going to write my thoughts about the new stuff but then just summing everything up got so long and I never wrote that summary post I meant to so I think I'll make two posts instead. jk it's going to be three posts so here is the current situation post and my own personal thoughts about all this are here. Okay, so

Last year around April, then-Stardom president Harada takes Rossy off of booking and apparently stops listening to his advice. Harada sucked, he didn't get the appeal of pro wrestling, seemingly mostly trying to push it as advertising and going for things like their stupid NFT collab. He also pushes a schedule on the roster that isn't workable or healthy, leading to rampant injuries up and down the card. He stops listening to the roster - Giulia came out and said that Rossy's style of booking is to let the wrestlers start what stories they want to themselves, and then book what he thinks would be good from among that. But under Harada, matches just got booked out of the blue without even talking to the wrestlers about it. A particularly egregious example Giulia pointed out was when Ami challenged her for her title and she told her to earn a title shot. Then days later it's announced on twitter that Ami's title shot is coming up in two weeks. Giulia was vocal on twitter about it at the time, saying "What show are you watching?!" and I remember commenting a lot that it felt like Stardom was suddenly being booked by someone who wasn't even watching the shows. Beyond that even the matches themselves aren't being run by the wrestlers, with Giulia mentioning no one telling them what was in the boxes in the money ball match last year and the hazard that presented.

Now, some of this stuff may have been worked - like, I think probably Ami and Giulia knew they had a title match they were supposed to work up to, and the frustration isn't actually that Ami was given it before she "earned" it, but that they weren't given a chance to actually build the feud they were trying to. I think it's worth remembering during stuff like all this that in Japanese wrestling we get pretty much no pure "shoot" interviews or news like you'd get in America. None, like, for real please learn to understand that you shouldn't trust dirt sheets and that almost no one ever 100% shoots in puro. But that said, the interview Giulia gave about this stuff was pretty much the closest to shoot I had ever seen from a Japanese wrestler, short of, like, maybe when Ibushi came forward about what happened to him in New Japan.

On top of that, apparently from Harada on down, Bushiroad staff were incredibly dismissive of the wrestlers and largely ignored them, seemingly seeing themselves as the company and the actual roster as just, I don't even know, some disposable resource and not the entire reason any of them even had a job. Just very backwards thinking, that the real work is running the shows, but as long as you put a show on people will just come to see anybody. Which, lmao, well that didn't work.

This came out when Stardom had a holiday show that needed to be slightly rescheduled, its start time ended up being, iirc delayed by about two hours or something like that. Maybe not the biggest deal to us, but especially for a company trying to seem like a major player like Stardom, this was an extremely bad look. Roster members are extremely mad and start to come forward about not being told about anything like this even though it affects them and they have to be the public faces of it; Giulia even openly talks about trying to find out what had happened and getting completely brushed off by the staff member who had been in charge of arranging the venues. This incident was one of those things that seemingly got a huge reaction not just because it looked bad for the company but because it was the dam breaking. I'd suspected Stardom was having management issues and ended up being more right than I could have imagined.

Ultimately in November Harada is fired and they bring in a new president, Okada. (Not, not that one. Different Okada.) He's been booking since he came in at the start of December. Ultimately they didn't change the cards for the remaining Harada-booked shows or reschedule any of the shows that had already been announced at that point. This leads to Stardom's lowest show attendance ever, at an Osaka show that draws 114 people, thanks to running at 6pm on a Tuesday at a venue that while technically in Osaka could not realistically be reached in time by anyone trying to get there from Osaka proper after work. Rossy at this point is publicly disparaging Harada's choices and policies, and says the method of "just booking any available venue whenever you want and saying when the show is happening on social media can't continue".

It's still early into seeing how things are under Okada, but they seem better, not that better would take all that much. The overall sentiment seems to be, and I would agree, that the booking has already improved somewhat, with stories that are at least for now maybe a little too title-focused but do seem to have the wrestlers themselves more engaged. The schedule has also been a little bit lighter, not that Stardom was ever a particularly low-number-of-shows promotion, but less than last year. Bushiroad also said they would conduct a review of all Stardom staff members, including taking feedback from roster members and regular freelancers, though they wouldn't be able to publish any of the results of that publicly as it has to be dealt with by Bushiroad HR. So it seems like they're trying at least to turn things around, though too early to really say how it'll work out. That was the state of things up to last Sunday.

#stardom #my writing