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#i need to dribble them like basketballs
ouroborros · 9 months
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Colored the bitch
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At who's the best at
Paige Bueckers x Fem reader
Warnings: Slowburn (?), curses, sexual inunendos
A/N: I couldn't think of a title 😭 I am so sorry. Other characters are from my imagination, they are not related to NCAA at all. Had to get this ideas out of my head.
Y/N was panting, hands on her knees after doing laps across the court. Today is hell, Geno is not taking it easy on them, the training is tougher compared to the previous months as their team is advancing to Elite 8. She thanked the cardio gods for being on her favor today or she will pass out. Taking one last deep breath, she put her both hands on her waist and walked towards the three point shot perimeter. Qadence pats her on the back while she is dribbling for a three point shot.
"Take it easy babe." She nodded at Qadence before shooting the ball. Another miss.
"Miller!" Geno motioned to come to him. Y/N sighed and jog towards her coach's direction.
"Kid, do you see this?" Geno handed her his clipboaard with her stats on it.
"This is from the last game against Duke."
Y/N scanned her stats, and it is much better progress compared to their match against Sycaruse and Jackson State.
"Yeah and it will get more better if you can hoop today. What the hell is wrong Miller? Shade and Edwards blocked you three times today. You don't get blocked thrice based on these stats. What's wrong kid?"
Y/N didn't respond and remain silent. It shows in the practice that she is preoccupied today.
"Nothing Geno, it's just......" she trailed off thinking of what she should say.
"I'll do better. I'll make sure to clear my mind before practice so I can focus." Y/N continued, bowing her head slightly. She had to prove to UConn women's basketball team that they will not regret accepting her back when she transferred here during her 2nd year. But Geno doesn't seem to be convinced of her answer.
"Alright. I am expecting much better results in our next practice. We can't make excuses once USC had our asses in our match. Go take a swim or a run in your neighborhood or whatever later, you're not yourself today and I don't want to see you like a vegetable during practice."
Y/N nodded and Geno gave her an encouraging pat on the back before letting her go back to practice. It made her feel a little better but her day is still shitty.
----
Y/N's phone keeps vibrating, this is the umpteenth time her parents called her today. She doesn't want to answer it, it will be divorce probably. It already threw her game off today and she doesn't want to ruin her day more by answering it.
Mum:
talk to me hun, please
Hun, we are sorry, I know this will be hard for you.
Do you hate us?
I'm sorry, love. It's not working anymore between me and your dad.
Dad:
Peanut, please answer your phone.
I'm sorry.
We wanted to tell you for a long time.
---
Y/N turned off her phone. With a deep sigh, she ate her tacos. She's got a lot on her plate now, her studies, her upcoming match, and now her parents divorce. She wanted to take a break.
"Boo, you okay? You're preocuppied the whole day." KK finally asked. Her teammates have been giving each other knowing looks and tiptoeing around her all day. They are not used to her being silent. She went out with them tonight hoping it will take off some things in her mind.
"I'm fine girl. Just woke up on the wrong side of the bad today." She smiled at KK. She's not ready to talk yet not until she's able to come to terms with her family.
"You suck, Miller. Paige is getting full of herself today and you're too preoccupied to humble her."
Paige almost choked on her shirley temple, she took a napkin and wiped her mouth.
"Me? Full of myself? Come on Aubs." Paige scoffs.
"Miller just realized today I don't need humbling, I'm actually good." Paige raised her eyebrows playfully followed by their teammates violent reactions.
Y/N grinned. She had to thank Paige for diverting their teammates from pressing on what's going on with her. The subject of being the best shooter between her or Paige became a daily banter. Paige was not unwelcoming when Y/N transferred in UConn but her competitive ass made sure to show why she was here first instead of Y/N. Y/N admits that Paige is actually better than her and the best all rounder, her transferring here seemed challenged the latter on who's best at what. She doesn't know why Paige thinks she has competition when she is actually the best. She likes to get on Paiges nerves so she gets along with Paige's imaginary contest.
"Get outta here Bueckers, I can do what you did earlier even with a hangover" Y/N said, giving Paige a sheepish grin. Paige made 43 consecutive 3 point shots, it got into her head today without Y/N beating it. It always annoy Paige when Y/N's record is close or beat hers.
"Oi, enough you two." Azzi stopped them before it could start to bickering. Y/N raised both her hands in surrender. She took a sip of her margaritas while still giving Paige a cocky grin. Now the latter looks annoyed.
They continued having fun, dancing and drinking. Y/N didn't move that much from her seat, she's tired and the margarita must've probabaly hit already.
"I'm just gonna go to the restroom." She excused herself. Feeling dizzy Y/n groaned, guess she will have that hangover tomorrow.
She decided to turn on her phone and was still bombarded with texts from her parents. Her mum's name popped on the screen and decided to answer it finally.
"Honey, I'm glad you answered. I've been calling all day." Her mom sounded worried on the other line.
"Sorry mum. Busy."
Her mother sighed. Y/N doesn't exactly know what to say, she is still processing that her parents will have a divorce. Out of 23 damn years, they just decided now that they don't need each other?
"Honey I.... I am so sorry. If you could come home soon we could have a talk, with your dad and I."
Y/N rolled her eyes.
"I am not going home, mom. California is 2000 miles away, I have an upcoming game in 2 weeks, and I am busy for my finals. What's the point? Your going to sell the house anyway now that you are getting divorce."
She didn't mean to sound mad over the phone, but she is really upset.
"I will call you when I am ready to talk to you both. If you two want a divorce, fine, but give me time to process that my parents don't need each other anymore after 23 damn years."
She didn't wait for her mother's response and hang up.
------
Paige went back to their booth joined by a tipsy Nika after their teammates are gone to god knows where. Dancing or probably making out with someone.
"Hey P, have fun! You're awfully behave tonight. Loosen up, it's weekend tomorrow."
Nika nudged her and throw an arm over her shoulder.
"I'm good, Ma. I don't want hangover tomorrow. Besides, someone has to stay sober to make sure you all get home safely."
Nika scoffed, rolling her eyes at her teammate. It's their last free night before Geno will give them total hell in preparation against their match with USC.
"You're boring me P. I'll go join the others and have fun being miserable here. Have you se---" Nika wasn't able to finish her sentence when a commotion started in the middle of the bar. Recognizing the 6 foot tall asses of their teammates in the scuffle, the two ran towards their direction.
"What in the fuck happened?" Nika felt her slight tipsiness gone, helping KK reach Ayanna who's ready to take a swing to an athlete from Yale. The bouncers are trying to separate them before it ends up to a total brawl. Paige scanned where the others are and her eyes landed on Y/N, her sleeves are up, Aubrey blocking her from punching another Yale athlete.
"You don't talk shit here, dawg. Go back to New Haven and fuck your slutty girlfriend!"
Paige grabbed Y/N by the waist and dragged her out of the scene. For someone who is always cool and at her composure, she was surprised that Miller can trash talk.
"Calm down, Miller. You don't get to injure that million dollar hands." With Azzi trailing behind, she brought Y/N outside and pinned her on the wall to calm her down. She looks disheveled, some of her locks escaped from her ponytail, her face is red, her sleeves are uneven and she is reeking of alcohol. What a total mess.
"What in the world was that Y/N, I know you guys don't start fights but you all are better than this. Gosh, how many drinks did you have? You are reeking of alcohol!" Azzi said frustrated.
Y/N scoffs, wiping some sweat on her forehead. Paige couldn't agree more with Azzi. They don't start fights, Y/N never looses her cool even during their banters at who is best, intense matches and bad calls from ref. Paige wonders what made her so worked up that she almost punch someone today.
"Nah, I was cool Az. I took shots from everyone, sorry I lost count."
The 2 of them grimaced. They check Y/N if she had any injuries, Geno will kill them if they are scathed and once he hears about this. Azzi wonders as to why Yale women's basketball are in Storrs. That's like an hour drive just for a night's drink.
"God you are drunk and you can take a fight." Paige said amused. She never saw Y/N got drunk because she never was.
"Oh yeah Bueckers, wanna try? Let's take it here outside." Y/N stood straight, her face annoyed.
Well that was hot. Paige thought. She raised her hands in surrender before Y/N gets totally pissed. Y/N haven't landed a punch but it might be on Paige if she triggers the latter. Azzi gave her a scolding look.
"Chill, Ma. T'was a compliment."
Y/N rolled her eyes and leaned against the wall again. She's starting to feel hazy.
"What did they do anyway?" Azzi asked.
"Douchebag's girlfriend was offering me a drink, I declined. She thought I want to fuck her slutty girlfriend and proceeds to call us defects, the others heard it, we didn't mind until she pushed Aaliyah."
Paige clenched her jaw and Azzi rubs her temple. Half of the team suffered injury in the past year. Paige wished she hadn't grabbed Y/N and let her land her fist first before fleeing from the scene, it was uncalled for. Drunken Miller surprised them tonight, they didn't know that her mouth can talk.
"That's it, we are all getting home. I'm gonna go get the others." Azzi left them outside.
"Yeah Azzi and tell that cunt to fuck her girlfriend properly."
Paige shook her head. Y/N is definitely the highlight of tonight's event.
"What got you so worked up today, Miller? You almost took it out on someone."
KK was right, Y/N was preoccupied. She didn't have any baskets during practice. Paige had 29 3 points in a row today, usually Y/N comes close or even beat her. It's unusual for someone who plays ball since 5th grade, she just did laps all day.
Y/N groans. "I'll talk about it tomorrow when I'm sober. can you take me home please? Paige."
Paige, licked her lips and pretends to think about it. She's gonna do it anyway.
"I never thought you were into girls." Paige blurted out. She mentally slapped herself right after. Her intrusive thoughts won.
"You guys never asked. I never said I was into boys either. So annoying."
For some reason, Paige couldn't keep her smile off. She was grinning like and idiot. Y/N noticed and she rolled her eyes, Paige looks stupid.
"You look like an idiot Bueckers."
"Maybe I am."
She twirls her car keys and they started to walk where she parked her car. She's behind Y/N who's trying to keep a straight-face and herself from stumbling.
Azzi and KK following them, KK still heated from the commotion earlier and keeps trash talking. Azzi is trying to cover her mouth for being loud. KK, Azzi, Nika and Y/N rode with Paige. The others were at Aaliyah's car since they live together in the same apartment. Paige shook her head, they are all dead on Monday.
-------
Y/N woke up, her head pounding and throat dry. She groaned when she tried to get up. She knew immediately it was bad last night to have a hangover like this, she rarely gets drunk and when she does, she has it bad. She jolted up when realizes that this is not her room. The bed sheet is purple, there are Miami Heat posters everywhere and the trophies are too many to be hers. Not until she saw the familiar number 5 jersey hanging on the wall.
"Fuck, what did I do last night." She whispered to herself. This must be Paige's room. She tries recalling the events of last night and vaguely remembers the Yale athlete talking shit. She almost got involved in a brawl.
Y/N got up from bed only to realize that she is wearing Paige's clothes, it's one of her old team USA shirts, nothing else and her boxers. It's already 2 in the afternoon, she could hear the ruckus outside Paige's room and KK's rambunctious laugh.
She opened the door and was greeted by the chaos of her teammates.
Y/N winced when the pounding of her head hits again. She sat down on one of the bean bags and leaned her head back trying to ease the headache. In an instant, Paige handed her a bottle of water and a tylenol. She gave Paige what is this for ? look.
"Your hangover, duh."
"Ya'll our sleeping beauty is awake." KK sat beside her but she was waiving where Ice was. Ice was doing live on the corner, and she didn't realize that where she is is being captured. Gosh she looks horrible.
"Guys, they wanna know something. You remember we did a tiktok of who among in the team you don't want your kid to date..... They want the opposite."
Qadence was quick to shout "Aaliyah" followed by KK's "Y/N"
"Yeah, I'll go with Y/N too." Ice agreed
"Y/N will throw hands, I'll bet on her too." Aubrey added.
" 'bout you, Paige?"
The team groaned when Paige showed her "rizz hands."
"Will we go further? I'll let my kid date myself." The team erupted in disagreement. Nika throws a pillow towards Paige's direction. "Dream on Bueckers!" Y/N shakes her head too.
Paige is a gender bender, the amount of fans she has be it a boy or a girl is insane. She may look like a fuck-boy type but she'll be a good girlfriend, the question though is, can they take her superstar life?
"Y/N, they wanted to know who you want your kid to date." Ice turned towards her. Y/N straightened her back a little, enough only to face Ice.
"No one, you guys loves ball more than relationships." Everyone burst in laughter.
"You heard our homie? We're not playboys/playgirls, basketball is life." Ice said in live while giving a thumbs up.
"Nawww! she's just playing safe!" KK shouted.
" Y/N is so fine, I think I'll start watching live " Ice reading through comments.
Y/N suddenly felt conscious. She moved where the camera can't see her so she can deal with what's left of her hangover.
" Does Y/N have a boyfriend or what? Saw her in Stanford before and what the hell is she doing on the court, go model in a runway or something--- Yo! Someone said you should model Y/N!" KK is reading along with Ice now.
Y/N blushed on the compliment(?). She couldn't think of herself as someone who walks on a runway or pose for a magazine aside from playing ball. She's no Cameron Brink who could pass that criteria.
"Maaaaan, they are all whipped to our girly pop. We've been gatekeeping our secret weapon."
Some of her teammates joined KK and Ice in reading the comments.
"Y/N c'mere they want to see you."
Y/N doesn't want to be rude by not saying even a "hi" but she really feels shit right now. She look around the room and her eyes landed on Paige, begging for help.
"Y'all sorry but Miller is not feeling well, you'll get to see her in Gampel soon. Be sure to be there." Paige shouted while throwing an arm around Y/N's shoulder. They are both far from the camera, Y/N waived though from where they are.
"Thank God." Y/N muttered and leaned on Paige's shoulder and she felt her stiffened.
Ice wrapped up her live leaving disappointed viewers to only see a glimpse of Y/N. All of them went back to their chaotic self.
--------
A/N: Please stay tuned for the next part. I think I have a hangover too 🤮. Wrote this when we were at the bar. Feedbacks and suggestions are open.
ALSO..... DOES ANYONE KNOWS WHO DOES THE GIRLS HAIRS DURING THEIR GAMES? DO THEY HAVE A HAIRSTYLIST OR WHAT?? PLEASE HELP A GIRL OUT. 😌
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glwmcres · 26 days
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— Paige Bueckers gf headcanons
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ummm
clingy gf?? like i can just see her all up on you some days especially after a long practice or losing a game
she has the worst photos of you… youre sleeping on her bed, hair all messy, mouth wide open?? shes got it and posted it on instagram stories
i can see her flexing on everyone about you. maybe yall went on a date or something and she wont stop yapping to her teammates about you
being late to practice because she doesnt wanna get out of bed with you :(
rests all her weight on top of you when cuddling, just needs to be close to your after a long exhausting day
“babe, i can’t breath”
“oh well”
stares at you with so much love in her eyes. could barely hide yalls relationship online, ESPECIALLY DURING A LIVE… she stares at you when you talk and its so obvious that she was deep in it for you
doing her hair PLEASE. i know she has that one hairstyle she wears all the time BUT, what about making her try out different ones just to play with her hair?
probably steals your clothes too. couldn’t find a hoodie for a month and then you joined kk’s live one day and paige was wearing it
username: paige is that my hoodie
“i don’t have your hoodie, what?”
dragging you out of bed so she can go buy trufru bc she ran out…
if you dont play basketball she is so forcing you to learn. bringing you to the court just so she can show you how to dribble and shoot a three pointer. she claims youre the best basketball player
if you wear make up i feel like she would help you get ready. like that one live with kate wanting to do jadas makeup ugh. would so help you and make sure to tell people she had done it
waking up in the middle of the night to her all up on you. cannot sleep in the same position at all. literal star fish position half the time. she’ll have her legs all up on you, an arm slung over your chest and all
if you ever wake up and have to pee, youre screwed!! paige is not moving off of you, she wants you in bed until it’s time for her to get up
her always wanting to help make dinner with you, especially if you love cooking/baking. she probably has a folder of recipes to use
back to the second bullet point, she has so many photos of you. has a folder named “my girl” or something cute and its photos and videos of you
makes you do tiktoks with her and kk… she’ll even kick kk out some of them so its just her and you
the fans go CRAZY over you. the amount of edits both of you get tagged in oh lord
she definitely has a folder full of edit of you because she thinks youre so pretty in them
would love getting into your interests as well. for example, you like reading?? she wants to buy every single book she sees just for you. she’ll sit there and let you go on and on about the book
i can imagine her wanting to do your nails too. but if you get them professionally done then she’ll send so many ideas for you to pick from
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this is all i can think of at the moment!! thank you so much for reading, please reblog for me<3
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elliebarker · 2 months
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yessss cc fic plz there’s not nearly enough
fuɔk me. ( c. clark )
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category: caitlin clark x girlfriend!reader (angst, fluff)
summary: after seeing you talking to another after one of her games, caitlin goes into an obsessive spiral of jealousy, unknowingly sending you down your own rabbit hole.
warnings: way sadder than i intended 
word count: 1.2k
author’s note: i tried capital letters, y’all fw it?
_________________________________________
“I mean, it was electric, truly.”
Caitlin’s voice echoed into the microphone of a random media reporter who was interviewing her. She tried her best to stay focused on the questions whilst the camera clicked and pump-up music blared. Iowa had just won a home game and she knew you were in the crowd. She regained consciousness with the present and began answering the interview questions with basic textbook answers about ‘the Iowa culture’ and how great her shots felt, whilst scouring the stadium for you. You interlocked eyes and waved to her. She waved back and politely wrapped things up with the media girl (hehe) and headed your way. 
In the minutes she had spent with her eyes off of you, an umich girl from the opposing team had walked up to you. She was, in Caitlin’s eyes, getting a little too friendly. Smirking, and smiling too wide. Caitlin backed away, choosing to head to her teammates instead and pose in photos with fans. See… people love me she thought. And we literally bet them and that fucking umich girl had the nerv-
“Caitlin!” you ran, hugging her from behind. “You do so good, omg!” 
“Thanks, babe.” She slipped away from you, cold and isolated. Caitlin spent the night with the girls on her team, which wasn’t irregular for away games, but you were looking forward to getting to spend time with her when she was actually in town. You were slumped in your apartment, staring at yourself in the mirror, picking a pulling at your skin, hair, and hair. Meanwhile, Caitlin was glued to her phone in the corner of the room her teammates were in. Staring at that umich girl’s stats and Instagram. Caitlin knew she was a good player, she knew she was a good girlfriend, she knew you. She knew you wouldn’t do her wrong but she couldn’t stop thinking about it. About finding someone different. She knew she wasn’t there for you all the time, on account of her schedule with basketball that seemed never-ending. She felt like a bad girlfriend. You deserved the world, more than she could ever give you.
Sounds of shoes squeaking and balls dribbling filled her ears as Caitlin entered Iowa’s gym. After nights of stressing, overthinking, and flashes of your interaction with the umich girl appearing in her head, Caitlin was ready to clear her head with some practice. She stretched, dripped the ball a bit, and began shooting. First shot, miss. She went and grabbed the ball. Second shot, miss. Everyone has bad days. The third shot, she could barely focus, overwhelmed with this stinging feeling of inferiority as she missed that basket. “Fuɔk me,” she muttered under her breath. She suddenly turned around when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Kate was standing, now facing her. “Hey Caitlin, can we talk?” 
“Yeah of course, what’s up?”
“I’ve noticed you’ve been kind of off…down, you okay?”
“Um yeah,” she tried to hold her guard up, “yeah, I’m fine.” She smiled, “Need to lock in.” Kate laughed, agreed, and went on with her practice.
Later that day you, being friendly with the Iowa team, reached out to Kate. You texted her, 
You: hi kate!
i haven’t seen caitlin in a bit and just wanted to check in and make sure she’s doing okay
Kate: Hey! Thanks for reaching out, she has been acting a little weird. 
I was going to ask you but I guess you don’t know what’s up either.
You: no, i don’t know
has she talked about me?
at all?
Kate: No, not really. Is everything okay?
You: (…)
You stared at your phone for a solid five minutes attempting to keep your emotions under control.
You: yep! everything's good
just been a hot minute since ive seen her
but thats prob just cause shes so busy lol
Kate: Fair. But if anything does you can always talk to me.’
You: awww thanks kate! that's so sweet.
Days passed and you finally got a day to spend with Caitlin. You had invited her over to your apartment. You had excitedly and worriedly done up your hair and makeup, cleaned and refreshed every inch of your apartment: fresh sheets and fresh flowers, and made sure to wear an outfit you knew she liked. You felt it in your bones that your behavior was suspicious and 100% fueled by insecurity but you told yourself that you were doing this to make Caitlin feel comfortable, let her relax from working so hard. Totally not convincing her to want to stay with you. 
You and Caitlin were in your bed watching a tv-show and you could sense something was off. “Hey baby, can I get you anything?” you ask, trying to make yourself useful. 
“Um, yeah sure,” she replied, “water works.” You scoot yourself off the bed and head to the kitchen. Caitlin watches as you walk away, thinking about how you’re perfect in every way. She pulls out her phone, and her most recent search on instagram, umich bitch, is controlling her thoughts again. 
You come back with a glass of water for Caitlin and see she’s engulfed in her phone. Goddamnit you’ve bored her.
“I’m sorry,” you muster out. The stress of the possible end of your relationship that you conquered up in your head makes you almost fold into tears.
Caitlin sprung up, “Sorry, babe, sorry about what?” she went to hold you. You slithered yourself out of her arms,
“You’re probably sick of me, I need to stop holding onto you.” 
“What?” Caitlin asked, “Okay, first of all, I would never be sick of you. You are the most gorgeous, fearless, kindest, perfect girl I’ve ever seen. I would be crazy to ever let you go. But I know you deserve, you need better than me.” your tears turned to happy ones as you exclaimed,
“Caitlin what? You are the best girlfriend in the whole wide world.” You grabbed her face in your hands as hers found their natural place around your hips.
“I love you,” she whispered before moving her face close to yours and kissing you passionately. Your arms wrapped themselves around her neck as you leaned into the kiss. You slightly pulled away, whispering back, 
“I love you too.” Caitlin then pulled open her phone, to delete the umich player from her search history, but not without catching your nosy eye. “Wait. This was about her?” 
“What?” Caitlin said, trying to sound clueless.
“I spoke to her for five seconds? Wait…you were jealous?” you inquired. 
“No- I- who-” she stuttered, trying to deny it. “Also, I don’t get jealous.”
“You goofball,” you said, pulling her into a deeper kiss, to which Caitlin picked you up and plopped you back onto your bed, pulling you into her chest, and kissing your forehead.
“I don’t get jealous” she re-enstated.
“Mhmmmmm…” you replied, nodding your head, in a non-believeing tone. “Got it. Not jealous.”
“I’m being serious,” she said. You, too lazy to lift your head, nodded and closed your eyes falling into a deep sleep, to which Caitlin would follow you.
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delcakoo · 1 year
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i wish i was a baller ₊✩˚⊹ c.yj
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ty @yenqa bae for the idea <3
SUMMARY ! being his longtime crush, when yeonjun and his pesky friends’ catch you walking past the court, he’s quick to try an impress you with one (un)lucky shot on hoop in exchange for your number.
PAIRING ! yeonjun x f!reader
WC ! 1.3k
GENRE ! cavity inducing fluff
a/n: c’mon now u have to listen to i wish after readin that title c:
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“shit, look who it is yeonjun!”
the male in question was much too busy shouldering soobin to the ground, dribbling past his now groaning friend before slam-dunking his favorite orange ball through the hoop to listen to lame, old, beomgyu.
“let’s go!” yeonjun punches the air, running by his teammates to offer them high fives that they halfheartedly return. “another point for the yeonjunniez!”
“horrible fuckin’ team name,” taehyun murmurs, while kai only nods in tired agreement.
before yeonjun could force the group into another scrimmage, a strong hand grips his shoulder, redirecting him to face a barely visible figure that’s only steps away from reaching the basketball court’s end. beomgyu squeezes tighter, shaking him back and forth slightly. “don’t ignore me! you recognise who that is, right man?” squinting his eyes, yeonjun gasps as he takes in the familiar sight of your signature hairstyle and white headphones.
oh, he knew it was you alright. even if it was pitch black out — only street lamps illuminating the shady pathways — and you were clearly wearing all dark shades to blend in more, he knew.
“‘course, what kind of boyfriend would i be if i didn’t know my girl when i see her?”
soobin, who’s still brushing off pebbles after his dramatic fall, rolls his eyes at the straight fibs coming out of his friend’s lips. “she barely knows you exist.”
“not for long.” before anyone could stop him or make him think at the very least, yeonjun has himself pressed against the chained wall of the court, fingers noisily locking through the metal in an attempt to grasp your attention. “y/n, is that you?”
when you swiftly turn at the sound of your name, looking adorably like a deer caught in headlights, yeonjun is reminded of just how head over heels he is.
“yeonjun..?” he’s never been so thankful to mr. sim assigning partners for projects, or else you still wouldn’t know your future boyfriend’s name! you look past him to take in the other boys who send you awkward waves, and yeonjun glares in annoyance at each and every one of them. what shitty wingmen.
“uh, yeah.. so, what’re you doing out here alone?”
with one more glance around the empty park, yeonjun nearly squeals as you begin walking closer, shoving your phone into your hoodie pocket smoothly. “j-just clearing my head i guess. what about you guys?” your stuttering gives him hope that perhaps you’re just as nervous as he is right now — leading a small smirk to etch across the boy’s lips.
“practising extra late since tryouts open soon,” he replies, gesturing to his friend group in the background. “they all kinda suck though.”
“thanks!” beomgyu spits back, but yeonjun could care less about his sarcastic comeback when it resulted in you letting out a soft chuckle. that was him by the way — he made you laugh!
in an attempt to give yeonjun more one on one time with you, the others had attempted to go back to playing (while still eavesdropping of course), but it was clear that their friend needed a little shove in the right direction.
taehyun moves closer, adjusting his black muscle top while offering you a mischievous grin. “say, y/n. if yeonjun here gets a three pointer, would you consider giving him your number?”
besides kai’s howling laughter in the distance, the court is frozen in tension, more specifically yeonjun — who’s jaw has practically dropped to his ass. this was not part of the plan, taehyun! attempting to bandage the wound, the raven haired boy smacks his friend, hoping the expression on your poor, confused face would falter at least a bit.
his ears burn bright red, and he can only pray the hood of his grey coat is deep enough to hide it. “i uh- sorry about that, you don’t— you don’t have to do anything—“
too busy manifesting some way to travel back in time and tape taehyun’s mouth shut, yeonjun fails to notice the amused smile creeping its way to your lips. “no, it’s okay. you can try if you want.”
soobin and beomgyu share a horrified glance, just how is this working?
yeonjun blinks, holding a bewildered yet determined look in his pupils. “i— you mean like, to shoot?” he blabbers in disbelief.
you shrug. “why not?” and before he knows it, the ball is forced into his grip by a snickering soobin, who attempts to relieve his friend’s shoulders that are tenser than he’s ever seen them with a swift massage.
little did he know that you found it almost as endearing as the way yeonjun’s teeth nibble onto his bottom lip as he gets into position, crouching with precision before jumping, releasing the basketball with a flick of his wrists.
the orange ball flies for a bit before landing right on the hoop’s ring, bouncing across it loudly, spinning around for a bit before—
“shit..” beomgyu murmurs in horror, watching how the ball flops pathetically off the side of the ring along with the other five pairs of eyes.
yeonjun refuses to believe this.
sinking down to his knees, nails frustratingly glide through his bangs while a pained groan leaves his lips. “i didn’t miss a single fucking shot earlier,” he winces, “but of course when it actually matters i fuck up.”
god, he was so cute — it was all you could think to yourself as you paced closer, squatting next to the boy’s destressed form all while lightly patting his shoulder. when yeonjun lifts his head, his eyes widen at the closeness of your face being mere centimetres from his. for a second, he thinks he might just pass out on the spot, up until you pull out a pen from your pocket, grinning cutely as usual.
when you open up your palm, it takes him a minute to realize you were asking for his hand.
ever so carefully, yeonjun places his hand in your grasp, breath stuttering at the feeling of his crush’s fingers wrapping comfortingly around his wrist. “what- what are you..” he gulps when you bend a bit closer to begin scribbling something right across the softness of his pale skin, glancing up at his friend’s with a face of utter disbelief who only give him an equally gobsmacked look in return.
suddenly, you’re releasing him and standing back to full height, pen being shoved casually into the embrace of your black hoodie as if you hadn’t just narrowly avoided giving the poor boy a heart attack moments prior. “yeonjun, i was gonna give it to you either way,” you snort.
wait, what? did he just go through the five stages of grief for nothing?
all he can do is watch with eyes gaped as you slowly march back towards the entrance, only snapping out of it when beomgyu pulls his arm up to investigate the nine numbers inked across his hand. “bro.. you did it.” he states it as if yeonjun had just solved world hunger, shaking his friend frantically.
“i.. i did it?” he repeats dumbly.
it seems as though he can’t get a break; now soobin’s the one pushing him towards the entrance. “go on, dipshit!” he exclaims, “it’s pitch black out there, walk her home!”
this has yeonjun’s expression changing from dumbstruck to full on panic, nearly tripping on his own shoelaces as he sprints out to catch up to your now-far-away form, grey hood falling off and finally revealing his bright red ears in the process.
there was no doubt that he looked insane — lighting or not. “she has him wrapped around her finger, huh?” kai can’t help but cackle once more.
soobin takes a shot, easily making a dunk with the help of his height before sighing in agreement. “oh, absolutely.”
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1for5 · 29 days
Text
tie breakers to slurpee runs
paige bueckers x reader
iowa vs uconn. a game anticipated by many, a game that will determine if you could get into the finals. both teams have shown their best skills in basketball, making them one of the most popular teams in the wncaa. 17 million people were watching, and all of their reactions depend on your play.
it was the 4th quarter, with your team, iowa, getting a 65, and the opposing teame earning a 63. everyone in the stadium felt the tension of the two teams.
you were in charge of blocking paige bueckers, a skillfull player in uconn, as your coach noticed how you always knew her plays and tactics. what your coach did not know was that, paige was your ex, whom you met back in the 2019 world cup. knowing paige’s strategies were natural to you.
aubrey griffin, a huskie (and an old friend), grabbed the ball from your teammate. she then passed it to nika muhl (another old friend), who passed it to paige. you were trying your best to block the ball-until it shoots, making the scores a tie of 65-65. your coach immediately requested for a time out.
looking at the time, there were only 10 seconds left, which made you anxious due to your mistake. your coach gave your team strategies. “okay team, we got this. y/n that wasn’t a mistake. just make up for it.” your coach said, giving you a pat on the back.
back in the game, you were blocking paige, and paige made you trip, which caused a foul. you weren’t sure with what you feel, as this moment only gave you a deja vu.
2 years ago, you visited the uconn huskies for your girlfriend. you all played a small game, and you got fouled as kk arnold accidentally hit you. you all took it lightly of course, but you also all practiced proper rules. they asked you to have free throws, with all the members of the team cheering for you, and paige giving you a quick peck on the cheek as she hands you the ball.
going back to the present, you felt everyone’s eyes on you. you dribbled the ball, got a point. both cheers and groans were being heard from all the sides of the stadium. you threw another-point! you felt happier, as if you were able to redeem yourself.
the game continued, and caitlin gave a foul to paige. this is the longest 10 seconds ever of my life you thought. before throwing, paige gave you a look, eyes hinting that she longed for you but at the same time with range, which came from the game. you noticed her, the eye contact came in quick up until the referee gave her the ball to throw. looking at the time, the game only had 4.3 seconds left, and if paige got both throws, you needed a tie breaker.
paige did infact get her two throws and earned uconn 2 points. it was still a tie. the ball fell from the ring, and kate martin, your teammate, received it. she looked everywhere for an open spot, and it was only yours who was open.
you got the ball from kate’s pass, and you honestly did not know what to do. you felt all the nervousness as you were positioned quite far. you saw the ring, threw the ball, and hoped for the best. the sound indicating that the game finished played, and your ball went in. a buzzer beater.
you didn’t know what to feel, and the world felt quiet up until your teammates came to you and hug you.
“FINALS BOUND BABY!” caitlin shouted, the rest of the team following her. you all celebrated, shouting many cheers. you and your teammates also went to the uconn players, as they were also friends with many of them.
this moment to you still felt like it was a dream, and you being so tired was making you have a low social battery. you were surrounded by many familiar faces without game tension, most of which you missed. nika, kk, and aubrey were the friends you missed the most. you got closer to them as you always were at paige’s dorm.
“AUBREY! i missed you” you screamed and hug your old friend, you regained so much energy, your tiredness left. she was also very excited and reciprocated the hug, “been a long time huh, how are you?” she asked. “doing good! how about you? getting drafted soon?” you replied back smiling wide.
“nah, ill be a super senior! paige and i..” she announced, with a hint of hesitation when she said the last phrase. you understood why aubrey mentioned paige, she was the reason you and her got close, and it was natural for her to mention her. “oh that’s cool! injuries allowed me to grab another year, however, i think ill push thru with the draft already.” you said, trying to ignore what she told you about your ex. aubrey then gave you a wide smile, congratulating you.

after more minutes of talking, nika and kk appraoched you. “OUR GIRL IS BACKKKK” they were both excited to see you too. the four of you then talked about each other’s careers and recent hobbies. you were filled with joy when nika told you that she was also invited to the wnba draft. kk also told you about her ongoing sponsorships and training camps.
you were filled with excitement and joy with all of their achievements. you then heard kate shout at you, indicating for you to come close to her. you bid your goodbyes to your old friends, and went ahead to kate.
“look who i am talking to! caitlin said before that you were a fan.” kate revealed paige bueckers, who was in her usual basketball jersey (of course) and had quite a messy braid hair-do. she still looks good you thought.
kate didn’t know about your history with paige, only caitlin did. it felt awkward, and your social battery suddenly went low, however, not wanting to gain speculation, you just continued on with the conversation.
“oh yeah. hi paige!” you stated, shaking her hand. “hi y/n. good game out there.” paige replied to you, retaining eye contact.
“yeah good game.” you nonchalantly replied, trying to hold back a smile. it did not feel right talking to paige like you are strangers, you still longed for her clingy touches and the sweet tone her voice has when she talks to you.
you, kate, and paige had a small conversation, and after awhile, your coach called everyone to get ready to come back to the hotel.
a couple hours later, your teammates were celebrating, however, you wanted to have your “comfort” drink. you loved 7-11’s slurpee, and you always get it whenever you feel tired or drained.
you went inside the store, and got your slurpee. you took a seat, and plugged in your earphones. after, you just blankly looked at the outside window, observing the night life of cleveland.
suddenly, a familiar figure sat down beside you. “tough game huh?” paige asked. “explains the slurpee.” you replied, also acknowledging her own order of slurpee. when you were still together, you always brought along paige to your 7-11 runs.
“really, good job on the game. i am proud of you and little you would be proud too.” paige comforted you, hinting a smile. “thank you. i was just really pressured this game, and you being part of our opposing team did not help either.” you joked, giving a small laugh.
“oh come on!” you and paige laughed. silence was now back, you both just looking out and drinking your slurpees in silence, and somehow, in comfort.
“i missed you. talking to you like a stranger felt wrong.” paige then said, ending the silence.
you didn’t realize how much you have longed for this, that paige still has a big effect on you. you were glad that she felt the same way.
“i missed you too.”
265 notes · View notes
azzifudd · 26 days
Text
possession
paige bueckers x azzi fudd
summary: four times paige & azzi knew they belonged to each other
rated: teen
2.5k words
disclaimer: many made up events obviously
[AO3 LINK]
The ball swishes through the net, nearly soundless in the empty gym. Azzi has been taking shots for the past three minutes. She hasn’t missed yet.
She had arrived at the UConn campus only 15 minutes ago, to surprise Paige for her birthday, and after nearly five minutes of hugging, that Azzi is sure Paige would’ve turned into more if her parents hadn’t been there, she had been dragged to the gym where the other girls were in recovery after a strenuous practice.
Paige had left her in the gym, promising to be back soon with the others, and Azzi had picked up a ball to pass the time. As she takes another jumpshot, one of the doors bangs open and she flinches. Her shot goes wide, bouncing off the back of the rim.
Two boys have entered the gym, and Azzi vaguely recognizes them. One of them rebounds her ball and brings it over to her.
“Hey, I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. I’m Andre. I’m on the men’s basketball team.”
She’s heard Paige mention him once or twice.
“Y’know if you want any pointers with your jumper, I could help you out.” His eyes run over her, from head to toe.
“What’s your name?” He asks, overeager.
“Azzi,” she replies, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.
“Dude, that’s Azzi. Bueckers’ girl.” His friend has come up beside them, after hearing Azzi introduce herself.
Azzi feels a flush overtake her entire body. Part of her almost wants to be offended that this boy, on one of the top college teams in the nation, didn’t recognize her. She’s the number one high school player in the nation, and it’s not even close. But another part of her, a bigger part of her, loves that so many miles away from home, a complete stranger hears her name and knows she’s Paige’s.
“Oh shit, you’re Paige’s Azzi. Azzi Fudd!” Andre covers his mouth and groans. “I was trying to teach you how to shoot.”
His teammate cackles beside him, slapping him on the back. “She’s been in three point contests with Steph Curry, my guy, I think she’s good.”
“Damn, that’s embarrassing. I’m so sorry.”
She smiles up at him, now charmed by the whole thing. “It’s cool, I didn’t know who you were either.”
“Oh! She got your ass.” His friend laughs again before turning to her and introducing himself. “I’m James.”
“Azzi.” They shake hands.
“Like I said, I know. PB does not shut up about you.” He does a quick dribble behind his back before pulling up into a smooth jump shot that swishes through the net. “We’ll be shooting around after practice and it’s ‘Oh, Azzi never would have missed that shot. She’s the hardest worker I know.”
“You shoulda seen her a few months ago. Always tapping away on that iPad, putting together clips.”
Azzi remembers the video that Paige had so proudly shown to her family. How silly, and sweet, and how Paige it had been. It makes Azzi even more excited for dinner tonight, where she will finally get to tell Paige that she is committing to UConn.
The door pushes open again, and this time it’s Paige who rushes over to them, throwing an arm around Azzi’s neck.
“Hey, these losers bothering you?” Paige asks, laughter clear in her voice. But Azzi knows that it would only take one word from her to set her off if Azzi asked.
“No, they’ve been cool,” she says.
“Well, Coach heard you were here and wanted to say hi. See you guys later.” Paige leads Azzi deeper into the facility.
And if they’re a little late to meet everyone because Azzi pulls Paige into a secluded broom closet for some alone time, no one needs to know but them.
//
Azzi’s sprinting around the top of the court, rounding one screen and then another, trying desperately to get open. She’s open for a split second, and that’s all it takes for Paige to hit her with the pitch perfect pass. She rises to take the three that could tie the game when a body barrels into her legs.
She hits the floor hard. A whistle blows as the referee calls what Azzi hopes is a shooting foul. She stays on the floor for a moment longer, catching her breath, when suddenly the arena erupts in noise.
Whistles blow, and she finally looks up to see a furious Paige being pulled back by their teammates as one of the referees signals a technical foul. She is spitting furiously at an opposing player. Nika is at her side, simultaneously holding her back from causing more trouble for them and firing Croatian insults at the other team.
Azzi won’t find out until someone shows her the footage after the game, but Paige had stormed over the moment she was fouled and had pushed the offending player with two hands to the chest.
The referee points off the court. Paige has been ejected.
Coach has run over, screaming as the officials struggle to get everything under control. Aaliyah runs over to help Azzi up.
“Paige! Get your ass over here, now!” Geno’s voice somehow booms over the raucous Gampel crowd.
Paige throws her arms up, shrugging their teammates off of her. Satisfied that she has calmed down, everyone begins to back off. But instead of heading off the court like she’s supposed to, she makes a beeline for Azzi, who is still slightly shaken but standing.
Paige raises a hand as if to touch Azzi’s face, but she stops, recognizing where they are. She rests the hand on her shoulder instead.
“You good?” She asks, voice hoarse from shouting.
Azzi nods, still breathing hard. “Why did you do that, you idiot.” But even as she asks, she knows the answer.
Paige smiles crookedly. It is soft despite the noise around them, tender in a way Azzi knows Paige saves just for her.
“Bueckers!” Geno roars. They know if he could storm the court for her, he would have already.
“Go,” Azzi says. “I’ll see you after I win this game.”
“That’s my girl.” Paige leaves the court with a smirk on her face, cheers of her name following her.
Azzi sinks the free throws to send them to overtime. And when they end up winning by eight, even Geno can’t complain too much.
@bueckersbuckets35 it’s bullshit that paige had to apologize. they were targeting azzi all game. bet she’d do it again in a heartbeat if she had to
Paige Bueckers liked this tweet.
//
“That layup you had in the third!” Paige mimes a euro step, mimics taking a shot with her left hand. “Left hand, baby, bang!”
Hailey van Lith laughs at Paige’s antics, pushing at her playfully. “I mean, it wasn’t enough to get the win against you guys, but it’s always a good time pulling up against you.”
Even if they didn’t talk all the time, it feels like there would always be a special connection between all the girls who had played together for USA Basketball.
Hailey glances around. “How’s the wifey been? I didn’t get a chance to talk with her at the arena.”
Paige grins at that. She knows Hailey means it as a joke, that they are way too young to even think about marriage, but there is always something deeply satisfying for Paige to hear someone acknowledge that she is Azzi's and Azzi is hers.
“She’s doing aight. Her surgery went well. It’s just a shit deal y’know.” There have been plenty of tear filled nights for them both since Azzi had experienced the freak injury, but now Azzi’s ready to move forward, and Paige will be there every step of the way, like Azzi was for her.
Hailey smiles apologetically. “I was really sorry to hear about it. I remember you could never shut up about playing with her.”
“Thank you.” They both jump when Azzi pops up beside them. She gives Hailey a quick hug hello before turning to Paige.
She’s surprised when Azzi wraps her arms around her waist, tucking herself under Paige’s arm, pressing their bodies together.
They are no strangers to PDA. In fact, if Paige had her way, she would never stop touching Azzi. But the younger girl is usually more reluctant around people she doesn’t know, and with Hailey’s teammates around, it is a surprise to see her so affectionate.
Paige isn’t going to complain. She tightens her arm around Azzi’s shoulder and presses a quick kiss to her temple. She catches a whiff of alcohol on her breath. That explains the touchiness.
They chat with Hailey for a bit longer, but when Azzi begins to zone out mid convo, Paige excuses them both and walks them up to Azzi’s apartment.
“She’s so pretty.”
“Huh?” Paige pauses as she wipes the last of Azzi’s makeup from her face as they stand in the bathroom together.
“Hailey. She’s pretty, isn’t she?”
Paige shrugs. “Mm, I guess so.” She moves in closer, nose pressing into Azzi’s head, breathing in the scent of her. “Let’s go to bed.”
Azzi doesn’t say anything else until they’re tucked in together in her bed.
“You were talking to her for a long time.”
“Huh?” Paige groans into the back of Azzi’s neck, already half asleep. When she finally registers the words, she replies, “Who?”
“Hailey,” she replies, like Paige should know exactly what she’s talking about.
“We were just catching up. It’s been a while.” Paige presses a kiss to the side of Azzi’s neck, ready to fall asleep.
“Do you miss playing with her?”
“Dude, what are you talking about?” Paige props herself up on her elbow, turning Azzi onto her back to face her. She softens at the look on her girl’s face.
She presses a soft kiss to the dimple in Azzi’s cheek. And then she kisses her nose, her forehead, and all over her face until she’s smiling.
“Hey,” Paige says, making sure Azzi is looking into her eyes as she speaks. “You’ll be back. Best player in the nation, baby.”
Azzi pulls her into a deep kiss that still sends Paige’s head spinning and heart racing even after they have shared so many. When they pull apart, they are both breathless.
“Me and you.” Azzi’s eyes are shining and clear.
“You and me.” Paige gives Azzi a roguish grin and lets her pull her down once more.
//
“Yo, where’s P?” KK asks, scanning the room. It’s Senior Night, and they’re all getting dressed for the game. Even Azzi has just slipped into a jersey, even though she isn’t playing tonight.
“The seniors are on the court already. I think they had to do a run through of the ceremony. Why?”
Azzi is suspicious. KK looking for Paige is always a sign of something potentially stress inducing on the way.
“Oh, no reason, I just wanna make sure I’m outta the way when Daddy Paige sees you in her jersey for the first time.” KK cackles, ducking out of the way of the towel that Azzi flings at her.
“Nah, we all know there’s no way this is the first time she’s worn it.” Ice chimes in.
“Shut up,” Azzi says, rolling her eyes, glad that the fluorescent lights hide her blush. Surprisingly, she hasn’t worn Paige’s jersey since they were in high school, and even though she’d never admit it to her teammates, she is very excited to see how Paige reacts to it.
The injured players head into the arena just before tip off. The place is packed with fans there to celebrate the players who have given their all for UConn.
Besides that though, the media presence is palpable. The entire basketball world is waiting to hear whether Paige is staying or declaring. Azzi has known for weeks that Paige has decided to stay at UConn for another season. She has unfinished business, and even if they won the title this season, her injuries have robbed her of too much time here.
Azzi feels eyes on her as soon as they get into the open. She has been linked to Paige since before they even came here, so everyone is clearly gauging her mood on such an important night. She could try to play it more coy, but she can’t fight the smile on her face when she sees Paige warming up.
She’s getting one more year with her person. One more chance to fulfill the promise they made to each other when she chose UConn. She’s so happy.
Azzi waves up into the stands where hers and Paige’s family sit together, all wearing Bueckers gear. Drew jumps up and down when she makes a heart with her hands in his direction.
She’s stepping onto the court when she feels it. Goosebumps pimple her skin and she turns to where the majority of the team is casually warming up.
Paige stands at midcourt, staring at her, slack jawed. Azzi smiles coyly at her when Paige takes a step toward her, only to be stopped by CD who is standing next to her with a clipboard and an eyeroll.
Azzi just laughs and goes to take a few shots near the others. She isn’t close to being cleared to play, but she misses it so much. Even just being on the court during game days can be emotional lately. Soon, she feels a heated presence at her back.
Azzi turns around and finds Paige standing close. Too close for such a public place, but she can’t bring herself to move. Paige runs her eyes up and down Azzi’s body, lingering on where the number five splays proudly over her chest.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful. You tryin’ to get me in trouble?” Paige asks, voice low.
“Just wanted to support my favorite player.” Azzi looks up at Paige from beneath her lashes, and finds those blue eyes fixated on her lips.
“She must be pretty damn good if she’s your favorite.”
Azzi watches the muscles in Paige’s arms and shoulders flex as she links her hands behind her back, stopping herself from reaching out to touch.
“She’s not bad.” Azzi smirks. “Could use some work on her shooting stroke though.”
Paige scoffs. “I’ll show you my str-”
Two arms suddenly wrap around their shoulders as KK comes barreling into them.
“K, what the hell?” Paige pushes at her as they fight to stay steady on their feet.
“Yo, mom and dad, y’all have got to tone it down.”
KK smiles at them. “Media girl is on the way for some pics and P looks like she’s about to jump you.”
Azzi flushes as they all separate.
“What would y’all do without me though, seriously.”
KK strikes a ridiculous pose, distracting the media girl so Paige and Azzi can rearrange themselves into a more platonic pose.
Azzi hopes no one can see how flustered she is when Paige whispers in her ear to keep the jersey on for after the game.
They take a few quick pictures before it’s time for tip off. It’s an easy win, everyone playing with joy and anticipation of the celebration after the game.
For a moment, Azzi feels deeply sad. She wants to be out there, next to her girls.
But then the final buzzer sounds, and Azzi watches Paige bask in the attention of the crowd who loves her almost as much as Azzi does, and forgets everything but the beaming smile on Paige’s face.
193 notes · View notes
th3lovely1 · 21 days
Text
Don't Worry
♡♡♡♡♡
Emily Engstler x Reader
- The team is playing against a big rival of theirs, and one of them ends up hurting you in a game.
- Based on this request!
- Emily almost starts a fight(again. it's fine, tho she's just protective)
- Once again I don't know anything about basketball
♡♡♡♡♡
It was supposed to be a big game today. Your team was going against your biggest rivals, and everyone was getting riled up. The girls were hyping each other up. There was yelling, and everyone was hitting each other on the back.
Emily approaches you with a grin on her face. "Hi, baby.". She pulled you in by your hips. "Hi, my love.". You reciprocate a smile as you wrap your arms around her. "You ready for this game?". She scoffs, "Hell yeah, I am.".
"You love birds better be ready.". Karlie chuckles as she walks by the two. "Fuck off.". You flip her the bird and she turns around, ignoring it. You quickly put your finger down, though, as the coach walks in. "Alright, y'all," they yell, "Let's get this game started!".
The team ran out of the room, everyone hollering and jumping around. Emily stays by you as you two walk together, hand in hand. The opposing team is already on the court when you guys walk in. Most glare as they watch you all walk to your spots.
Emily scowls, "What's their problem?". "Don't mind them, my love," your grip tightens for reassurance, "We're here to play. Just worry about that.". Emily looks at you and softly smiles, "Whatever you say, ma.". She kisses your head before walking to her position.
The other team gets into their spots, and the game soon starts. It's aggressive as the ball is tossed around and goals are made. There's pushing and rude remarks being thrown.
The ball is tossed to Brittney before she passes it to you. You dribble the ball to the goal and do your best to avoid the guards. You successfully get past one, but another follows. She's a bit taller than you, with lanky limbs. She shuffles to block you from going past.
"You ain't nothing compared to me, shortstack," she sneers, "Why not just go back to that girlfriend of yours, huh? I'm sure she can do better than you.". You ignore her comments and duck past her fast enough to move away.
Before you can get far, she moves her foot out. You trip, and the ball falls out of your hands. Your head bangs against the hard floor, and your elbow gets hit. The room starts to spin as things get blurry, and there's a ringing in your ear.
The buzzer blares, and everyone stops. People gasp as your team rushes to you, Emily ahead of the rest. "Baby! Y/n!" she calls. She kneels down by you and lifts your head up in her lap. "You hear me, baby?" she worriedly asks. Her heart races when you don't answer. She looks up from you to the referee. "H-Hey! We need medic!".
Her attention immediately goes back to you, and she gently starts to shake you. "Come on, Y/n. Get up," her voice shakes. Your vision is able to vocus a little, yet everything is still spinning. "Em?" you mumble. She frantically nods her head. "Yeah, it's me, ma. You doing okay?".
You try to answer, but all that comes out is a groan as your head starts to pound. The bright lights glaring in your face. Emily notices this and does her best to shield you from them. "It's okay. I'm here.".
Soon, the medical team come in with a stretcher. Emily carries you onto it and kisses your hand before you're led out the gym. Her demeanor immediately changes once you're gone.
She turns to the player who tripped you. "What the fuck was that, you dick!" she stomps to them. Stefanie and Shakira hold her back from starting anything, but she continues to yell. "Can't play ball, so you gotta trip her! She hit her fucking head!". The player only snickers as she shakes her head and walks away from Emily.
The coach quickly approaches her. "Emily!" She stops her yelling and looks at the coach. Her anger still fuming. "Listen, I know you're angry, but you can't be yelling like that. Just let it out on the court and get the game done quickly.". Emily glances at the player before nodding her head at the coach.
The coach softly smiles and pats Emily on the arm before walking back. The game starts again, and Emily does exactly what the coach told her to do. Let it out on the court. She pushes and shoves for the ball and isn't afraid to bite back.
The team is ahead of the opposing team with only a few seconds left. Emily's at the three-pointer, ready to shoot. "This one's for you, Y/n," she whispers before jumping and shooting the ball in the basket. Everyone begins to cheer and clap for the win.
That doesn't matter to Emily, though. All she wants is to see you. She runs up to the coach, and before she can even ask her question, they nod their head. "Yes, you can go see her. She's in the medical room". Emily quickly thanks her before rushing to the room you're in.
And there you were, laying down on the bed with an ice pack on your head. The lighting in the room was dim to help with your migrane. Emily sighs in relief, and a warm smile appears on her face. You see her walk in and grin, "Hi, love.". "Hey babe, how are you feeling?" she asks, pulling a chair to sit by you.
"My head still hurts a little, but I'm all good," you answer, "I'm just glad you're with me, though. Did we win?". She softly laughs, "Of course we did.". You take her hand and softly kiss it. "Well, I'm glad we did.". Emily rests her head on your lap as she looks at you, a small smile on her face.
You rub her back as the two of you sit in comfortable silence. Just enjoying the presence of each other. "You didn't start a fight with that one girl, right?" You ask her, remembering that she still had to finish the game with them. Emily shrugs her shoulders like it's nothing, "Not really. No one got hurt.".
"Emily!" you chide, "You're gonna get in trouble on day for getting into fights so much.". She smirks in response. "Well, if it's for you, then it's worth it, ma.". You roll your eyes and say, "Whatever," knowing it's better then to say otherwise.
"I mean it," she states, "You mean a lot to me.". "I know you do, babe," you tell her, "And the same goes for you.". "It better," she says, moving closer to you and softly pressing her lips against yours. She pulls away from the kiss but still stays close to you.
"I love you, Em"
"I love you too, Yn"
246 notes · View notes
Text
February 1
rating: G cw: none prompt: Love is letting someone take care of you
It wasn't a lesson Eddie learned easily, or all that willingly. No one had cared for him after his Mama had died. Not for a long time after.
He dad likes to pretend he'd tried. When Eddie was feeling generous, he'd even say he agreed. His parents were so in love it was almost sickening. Losing her must have broken the part of his Dad that knew how to love fully. He didn't turn mean, not like some dads did, but he definitely cared more about his next scheme than he did about the kid that looked too much like his Mama.
Wayne taught him that people who care about you take care of you. They take care of you when you're barely nine and have burned yourself on the stove twice this week, even if you think you should have learned after the first time. They take care of you when you've been caught stealing candy from Melvald's, and skipping school, and flunking senior year (and then doing that again), and even when people accuse you of murder.
Wayne has taught him that people that really, really love you are there when you need them, care for you when you need them.
And Eddie's heart aches that no one seems to have taught Steve that.
Eddie's trying. He steps in to help with "babysitting" duties, especially when Steve looks particularly run down. He started inserting himself into the Platonic Soulmate thing Steve and Robin have going because he wants to be an established replacement Temporary Soulmate while Robin's at college. (Being fair, this was Robin's suggestion. She's worried about how he'll be when she's not around to look after him.)
He's started hanging out with Steve without Robin, too. They get along well, it turns out. Eddie loves to talk and Steve loves to listen. But, more importantly, Eddie's good at getting Steve to talk. As a rule in general, Eddie isn't a good listener, but he could listen to Steve read him the phone book and never be bored. He tries to take an interest in Steve's hobbies. He doesn't have the hand/eye coordination for basketball, or the lungs for swimming laps, but he does have the energy to keep going even when he's bad at those things.
Steve seems to appreciate it, if the soft smiles he gives Eddie is any indication.
And it's not all up hill. Steve's got hangups that seem to crop up when he thinks he's failed at something. He's got a quick temper but it's never physical anger. He's only ever yelled at Eddie twice, and being fair, that first was deserved. Eddie's pushed too far, in his desire to help, not knowing the limit yet.
Eddie gets pissy, too, he's no saint, either.
There's been no fight they haven't gotten through, though.
But the lesson, the thing Wayne was really trying to teach him, comes when Steve gets sick.
No one but Robin has ever seen him sick. She's off at college now and it's just Eddie, fumbling to make soup and not dribble water down Steve's front while he holds the glass Steve is too weak to and Eddie forgot to get some straws at the store.
Steve tried to get him to leave only once. It was the third day in a row Eddie was there.
"You don't have to be here, you know," Steve had whispered, throat still feeling like he ate glass.
Eddie just met his eye and gave a small smile, "I do know."
Steve looks surprised, which is ridiculous, because he had to of known the answer Eddie would give. But then that surprise softens to a new look. Sappier, eyes a bit wetter, and Steve must not want him to see because his whole face scrunches with how quickly he shuts his eyes.
Eddie sets the sleeve of saltines down on the night stand and reached for Steve's hand. Just to give it a squeeze.
He finds he can't take his hand back when Steve tangles their fingers together and drags their joined hands to his face, where Steve rests his feverish forehead against Eddie's hand.
Steve teaches him that, yes, love is caring for someone. But sometimes, it's also letting someone else take care of you.
-
@steddielovemonth @i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss
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taetaespeaches · 1 year
Text
showing care through tending to each other’s hair
bts x reader (ocs) genre: fluff word count: 2K
a/n: Hi lovelies! Here’s just some blurbs about bts and reader/oc tending to each other’s hair in different ways. Idk if this is executed as well as the idea I had in my head, but I hope you all like it anyway. I just think caring for one another’s hair is kind of romantic... maybe? Thanks for reading! :)) 
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↬ seokjin: “What on earth did you do?” Standing at the doorway of the bathroom, you eye your boyfriend as he lowers the kitchen scissors and flashes you a bashful and guilty grin. “I don’t like when my hair covers my eyes,” he pouts cutely, making you giggle. “Those are our kitchen scissors, Seokjin,” you point out as you walk towards him to inspect his hair cutting skills. Jin turns to face you and leans against the edge of the sink, fighting desperately to not laugh at your attempt to pretend like he didn’t completely botch his hair. “How does it look?” He asks, amused by himself as you snort in response. “Your stylists are going to kill you,” you finally tell him as you trace the uneven ends of his hair with your pointer finger. “Fix it?” He suggests cutely, peering into your gaze from under the askew fringe. Gesturing for the scissors, he easily hands them over, allowing you to take over. “You should have waited for me anyway,” you giggle as his arm snakes around your waist to hold you close to him. “I have actual hair cutting shears, you know.” You watch as his plump lips curve into an amused smile as he nods at you. “This is more fun though, don’t you think?”
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↬ yoongi: Your boyfriend is sleepy as he watches the basketball game, his head resting in your lap. He’s spent the first half of the game re-explaining the rules of the game to you for the umpteenth time as you toyed distractedly with his hair. It’s gotten so long, enticing you to keep brushing your fingers through it. “I think your hair is long enough to braid.” You watch as he contorts his features into a confused look that makes him resemble an old grandpa except with pouty lips. “What’s that look for?” You question as he holds back a grin. “Why would I need to braid it?” Rolling your eyes, you comb your fingers through his soft strands. “Why not?” you counter before sectioning his hair into three pieces. As you thread the pieces together, Yoongi’s head becomes heavier against your thighs, his breathing deepening. Intertwining his hair a few more times, you smile to yourself and the pretty braid on the side of his head. “See? I told you,” you tell him, holding the braid together between your fingertips. He simply smiles lazily as he pretends to ignore you, much too enthralled by the dribbling of the ball. Unraveling the strands and brushing them out, you begin again, repeating the motions over and over. Looking up at the game, you watch as one of the players gets fouled and takes to the free throw line. “Wait, why do they get to shoot for that foul but the other guy didn’t?” You ask, getting no response. Peering down at the man, you find he’s been lulled to sleep by the gentle touches on his hair. Grinning at him, you continue braiding his dark hair, happy to see Yoongi so relaxed in your lap.
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↬ hoseok: “What are you looking at?” your boyfriend asks over your shoulder as you sit on the kitchen stool, peering down at the phone that holds your attention. Gasping and tugging the device against your chest, you look over your shoulder at his pretty smiling face. “Can’t a girl get some privacy with her second boyfriend?” You tease, Hoseok immediately tsking in disapproval and shaking his head. “You’re so mean,” he playfully complains as you lower the phone to let him see the images you’re scrolling through. “I want to change my hair,” you tell him as he scrutinizes the different hairstyles. He oohs in excitement taking the seat next to you and leaning over your body, touching his pointer finger to the screen and swiping through your options. “Wah,” he suddenly exhales as though he was overwhelmed just by the thought of you with the style displayed. “You’d look really sexy with this,” he kisses your shoulder, causing a small smile to tug on your lips. “A bob? You think I should go that short?” You ask skeptically. “If you want,” she shrugs. “I think it would look really good.” Smiling at him, you deposit the phone on the counter and rise to your feet to stand in front of your boyfriend, squeezing yourself between his thighs. Draping your forearms over his shoulders, you bend just enough to leave a kiss to the apple of his pretty cheeks. “You always think I’m sexy though,” you point out, Hoseok giggling in amusement. “Because you are,” he replies, wrapping his arms around the back of your thighs and tugging you closer to him as he beams. “But still, I like the bob.”
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↬ namjoon: You watch in amusement as Namjoon struggles to twist the top of his water bottle off. When he looks across the kitchen island at you with wide innocent eyes, you have to fight back your giggle. Reaching out your hand, he reluctantly places the bottle in your grasp. “Arm day?” You ask as you screw the cap a little, just enough to hear the cracks of it opening. “They’re dead,” he sighs, taking the bottle back from you when you hand it over. “Thank you.” Smiling at him, you tilt your head to the side. “You look like you need to relax for a bit,” you tell him, the man giving you a soft smile. “Let me wash your hair for you.” His eyebrows lift in surprise as he runs a hand through the soft strands. “What? Really?” Nodding at him, you start walking toward the bathroom. “Come on,” you gesture down the hall, telling him to follow you. He does, like a giddy puppy, following wherever you tell him. His face is all crescent eyes, a beautiful smile, and cute dimples as you turn on the water to let it warm up. “We need to give your massive arms a rest,” you tease, though being sincere. Namjoon scoffs but smiles in embarrassed flattery, his expression handsome and slightly goofy.  “Let me take care of you, babe.” You love taking care of him, and it’s not often that you get to dote on him in such a way. He shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut bashfully, but follows his shyness by taking his shirt off and stepping toward you a bit more confidently. Perhaps you didn’t think this plan through.
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↬ jimin: Standing in front of the bathroom mirror brushing your hair, you catch Jimin’s reflection entering the bathroom with his eyes glued to you. “Want help?” He asks through a stunning smile, making you lower the brush and lift your eyebrows in expectation. “You wanna help me, angel?” You ask, Jimin appearing behind you and nodding. “Let me see.” You hand him the brush and tilt your head back slightly to give him better access to the strands. His strokes are gentle as he drags the bristles against your hair, taking his time. There is no rush, as though he would love nothing more than to stand just like this until you feel completely relaxed. Jimin has always been so doting and nurturing, always caring for you in any way he can. Shutting your eyes, you allow yourself to fully appreciate his soothing motions. That is until he giggles, making you pop your eyes open to find him in the mirror smiling in amusement. “I need you to stand up straight, Dear, you’re kind of melting into me here,” he laughs, placing a hand on your hip and guiding you forward. “Sorry,” you smile, realizing you had relaxed completely into his body. However, you immediately miss the feeling of his warmth, this time taking an intentional step back against him. “Dear,” he giggles, giving up and resting his chin against your shoulder. Laughing happily, you turn into his frame and hug your arms around his slim waist. “Sorry,” you say again, this time less sincere as you smile against his neck before leaving a kiss to the spot. “No you’re not,” he retorts, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “No, I’m not.”
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↬ taehyung: Eyeing the ends of your hair, you sigh. “I need a trim,” you pout from your spot on the bed as Taehyung hangs some clothes in the closet. “Want me to do it?” He teases from across the room, a small smile on his face as he finds amusement in his own joking. “Could you?” You suddenly ask, gaining his full attention as he snaps his head in your direction, his smile dropping into a blank expression. “What?” He asks in confusion, lowering the shirt and hanger to his side. “Just the ends,” you clarify, fighting back the smile that wants to break through in response to his concern. “I was kidding,” he points out. “I’ve never cut hair before.” You can see the gears in his head turning as he tries to figure out if you’re in your right mind. “There’s a first time for everything,” you shrug. Taehyung’s expression softens slightly as he cracks a small smile, still in disbelief of this interaction. “Peaches,” he sighs, making you giggle. “Dearest,” you reply with a grin. You know the idea of trying something new excites him, and perhaps that’s why you’re pressuring your boyfriend with no hairdressing experience to trim your ends. You’re prepared to tell him how good he is at it just to watch the confidence fill up his stature in that way you love. “You’re losing it,” he then grins as you stand from the bed and make your way towards him. He hangs the shirt just before you reach him and settle your hands on his hips. “Oh, I’m batshit, baby,” you joke. Resting his arms on top of your shoulders, he leans toward you, his lips almost touching yours. “And if I fuck it up?” You shrug again, Taehyung’s face opening into a wide boxy beam. “It’s just hair, Tae.” Pushing yourself forward, you leave a soft kiss to his lips, appreciating the way he has to break away because he’s smiling just a bit too much.
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↬ jungkook: Sitting on top of the bathroom counter, you toss your head back in laughter, attempting to catch your breath as Jungkook stares past you and into the mirror with his bambi eyes. A streak of blue sits across his forehead as he asks, “Do you know what you’re doing?” With your blue-stained glove-covered hands held out to the side, you pull a face of offense. “No, but when has that ever mattered?” you question him, watching as a boyish smile overtook his features. “You’ve literally dyed your own hair before, and you’re worried about me.” He glances from his reflection to you as he sighs. “Do I look hot yet?” He asks, pulling a giggle from your lips. “Super hot.” When Jungkook mentioned wanting to dye his hair blue the other day, you jumped on the opportunity to do it for him. Wiping the blue from his forehead, you whisper a quick apology. “I’ll be more careful,” you grin guiltily. “Remember, you’re next,” he warns, flashing a mischievous smile, making you bite your lower lip in thought. “That was not part of the plan,” you argue as you place more dye onto his hair, only for him to take a step away from you to shoot a glare your way. “We’d be couple goals, babe.” Rolling your eyes, you cocked your head to the side, Jungkook mimicking your sassy stance. “We gotta match.” With a sigh, you relent, never really being that against the idea, and never being able to deny him anyway. “Fine. But you’re not done yet,” you nod for him to come closer again. “We’re gonna be so hot together,” he whispers to himself, making you giggle as you get back to work on his hair.
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avidfics · 4 months
Text
Bully Sevika x reader
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summary: In high school you had the biggest crush Sevika and in return she bullied you for years. Now in college you just wanted your distance but Sevika won't let you leave
warnings: nsfw, toxic sevika, slight humiliation, fingering, and some cuddles :)
Your palms kept sweating. For the fifth time this night you wiped them on your tiny jean skirt as you mustered the courage to step into the sorority house that was already in full swing of a party. The music bass was felt all the way to the front lawn where you anxiously stood in place, observing party goers completely at ease - if not a bit drunk - enjoying themselves. Opposed to you who felt totally out of place and uncomfortable. Your shoes scuttle against the sidewalk as you begin to turn away to leave when your name is sung over the chaos of the night. 
A warm, friendly hand grabs yours, turning you back to the house. Your first and only college friend's face is beaming at you with hazy eyes and smiling in a carefree way that can only be achieved with cheap liquor. “If you leave I’ll never forgive you.” she joked, dragging you away from your beloved sidewalk and into the house, immersed in the crowd of sticky bodies. 
You both maneuver to the kitchen. Your friend hands you an unopened can of beer. “That’s going to taste like warm pee but drink it anyway. I know you get nervous around new people because of your high school days but you’re no longer there. You deserve to have a freaking good time”
You smile and repeat those words, “I deserve to have a good time.” Yet, as the warm liquid hits your lips the words seem to float away, as if they didn’t carry any weight. Even though you were a grown college student, in your heart you were still that lame, timid high schooler under the thumb of your always present bully. The girl’s name sent a shiver through your body. 
Sevika. 
The fact that you were once infatuated with her was now almost humorous. Once upon a time, you were just a doe-eyed junior high student spying on the infamous 8th grader as she played basketball with the boys. Unlike your demure nature, she was crass, rough, and walked with a heavy gait that didn’t question her right to be wherever she existed. She spotted you, peaking through the bleaches, and snickered. Two fingers flagged you over and you trotted  over to her as if pulled by a powerful invisible string. For the next hour she ignored the boys, as her undivided attention was spent teaching you how to dribble. “How long you been spying on me? You like me or somethan.” her mocking voice cut through the boys laughter and made your face flame at the attention even as you mumbled your feeble denial. 
“You hear that guys?” she yelled. “Little mouse has a crush on me.” At the time, you remember how warm your heart felt as you gave her an impish smile. Too idiotic to realize she was making fun of you. And that would be the nicest she’d ever be to you.
Once you entered high school, something switched. Any tender affection you had offered to Sevika, she took and crumbled within her fist. The whole neighborhood understood that you were nothing more than sevika’s toy. Every day brought on an onslaught of bullying as she’d call you names, made you carry her books and sports equipment behind her like a lackey, publicly humiliated you, and isolated anyone who dared to befriend you. 
Hundred of miles separated you from Sevika, and yet, her shadow followed you. Taking another swing of the warm beer, you decide to not let clouds of her abuse ruin your present life. “Let’s have some fun!” No other encouragement was needed as your friend took your hand and immersed you into the moving bodies swaying to the music. Hands grip your waist from behind, and a quick glance revealed a pretty girl with a nice smile. A buzzing bud of interest lights your lower belly and you commence sensually swaying your hips in her grasp. A small thought in the back of your head teases that her touch is lacking in comparison to Sevika’s.  
Your friend turns around and shout, “Lets head downstairs. I hear that’s where all the hot upperclassman hang out.” The new girl behind you chuckles. “I suppose that’s true. My friends are down there.” Her hand drags you away from the dancing bodies. “I’ll introduce you guys.” A delighted squeal leaves your friend as she follows. 
Truthfully you had no interest in meeting hot upperclassmen. A pair of mocking dark eyes flash in your mind. You took another swing of your beer. Needing the fuzzy feeling to intensify your mellow feelings of attraction for the sweet girl in front of you. 
The basement was dim and thick with the smell of weed. Here you could see the girl more clearly. She was attractive, but all your bleary eyes pointed out was how she lacked the qualities of a certain bully. 
“Like something you see?” her words coaxed you closer to her warm body. “Maybe.” you laughed and took a step closer, in hopes to finally reclaim your sanity, you gently planted two hands on her cheeks and pressed a slow kiss to her lips. Yet as you closed your eyes, you couldn’t help imagining you were kissing the girl that drove you crazy from miles away…. In fact, if you listened closely, you could’ve sworn the raspy voice was present in the same room.
“Mouse?” 
The world came to a halt. The foreign lips continued to press against yours, not realizing your body was frozen in place. The boisterous laughter that demands attention from everyone in the room confirms your greatest fear. The girl keeps her hands planted on your waist as she turns with the rest of the room to a dark corner of the room where a group of upperclassmen lounged against a torn mattress. And in the middle, taking up much room with her corded arms propped up against the couch and jean-clad legs spread indecently wide, sat Sevika. Eyes trained on you with a salacious smile on her lips as if she just spotted her favorite prey. 
And despite yourself, you felt like prey under the fierce stare of Sevika. Her reputation must’ve already made its way on campus because tension held the entire room in nervous anticipation. 
“My little mouse is at a party?” Her mocking voice carries across the room. “I wanted to surprise you but had no idea my timid girl would be at a party.” Her words dangle in the air. Her eyes flicker to the girl next to you whose hands now felt like a hot brand against your waist. A familiar hardened look flashes across her hooded eyes. “Looks like my little mouse has grown up.” 
“Erin.” The name is like a whip across the room. The girl you were just kissing jumps, startled by the sudden attention. A nervous gulp is audible as she receives the full force of Sevika’s attention. “Seems you’ve welcomed my girl to campus.” Your lips burn at the reminder. “Don’t stop on my account. Shit, keep going. I’ll even allow you to sit on the bench for the rest of the basketball season so you and my girl have plenty of time to get acquainted.” 
The mystery girl snatches her hands off your waist and stuffs them in her pocket. “Sorry” is mouthed from her lips as she backpedals and runs up the stairs out of the basement. 
Embarrassment engulfs your entire being as you’re left standing alone. 
“Was it something I said?” People all around you laugh along to Sevika’s joke. “Luckily, I’m a lot nicer than our benchwarmer. Come here.” Two fingers beacon you over just like how this all started years ago. 
All that work you’ve done to repair your confidence and self-respect shrink with every minute you spend in Sevika’s all consuming presence. Because no matter how much you hated her, every molecule in your body craved her affection with a fierceness that was frankly frightening. 
She had bullied you, humiliated you, and made your high school years a living hell and yet when she left for college you missed her for every day she was gone. 
Your knees trembled as you stepped forward to where she sat. A hand from behind grabs your elbow, halting your steps. Your friend’s worried eyes plead with you. “Don’t go. She’s no longer in control.” It’s your turn to apologize as you give her a weak smile. “She’s always been in control. I’m fine so just go. I’ll see you in class.” You peek at Sevika and see her jaw clenched. If your friend didn’t leave soon she would start her year off on Sevika’s shit list. 
The faint sound of your friend’s retreating footsteps multiples the shame weighing against your head. Even worse was the eyes tracking your humiliating defeat as you hang your head down. Finally your shoes touch the toe of her leather boots. Those two damn fingers catch your eye as they tap her thick thigh. 
There was zero hesitance as you complied like a dutiful toy and stepped in between her legs and quietly propped yourself slightly on her thigh. 
A sharp scoff is your only warning as you’re hoisted easily in her arms and placed snugly in the warmth of her embrace. Your breath hitches at the close contact, taking the chance to finally look up at her face. You don’t expect to see the fierce way she watches you.  Her eyes stayed on you as she asked the room, “Looks like little mouse enjoys her new seat, huh?” A choir of jeers rang out in agreement. Her lips caress the shell of your ear and in a quieter voice asks, “Isn’t that right? You’ve been missing your place on my lap, huh?” When you don’t immediately respond a heavy hand lands on your thigh. Heat captures the spot where her heavy hand clamps the flesh of your bare thigh. A tiny whimper escapes your lips and is muffled into her shoulder. An ache that was left empty for years was abruptly filled with that one little touch.
And from the heated look Sevika had, she might’ve felt the same way “Everyone out!” she commanded. There were a few murmurs but everyone obeyed and stumbled out of the room. Ever impatient, Sevika hoisted you up, even as people were still leaving, till you faced forward in her lap, legs parted to rest on either sides of her hips. The new position should’ve given you power yet as she lounged below you, as comfortable as ever, there was no doubt who held the power in this situation. “Let’s have a look at you.” Her blatant scan of your body was disrespectful yet your nibbles pebbled as her gaze lingered. “Did you miss me, doll?” The question was said casually but the earnest yearning was obviously visible in her expression. 
“Did I miss you tormenting me for years? The humiliation?” The alcohol must’ve been making you braver tonight because you scoff and crossed your arms underneath your exposed cleavage. “No, Sevika, I hate you for every day we were together. I hate looking at your face, being in your presence, and your touch. I was finally erasing you from my memory with Erin before you interrupted.”
Her metal hand yanks the hair at your nape before you can continue your rant. Any fake pretense of playfulness is erased and the demanding girl that commanded you in high school made her grand appearance. Her back is rod straight as she presses against you. 
Trapped, you try to wrestle out of her hold to no avail. “You're a shit liar little mouse.” She growls into your ear. “But don’t worry, I know how to get my girl to tell the truth.” You’re confused for only a moment before clarity arrives with the cold touch of her fingers trailing up and down your exposed tummy. You jump at the foreign contact. There’s no rush in the way she traces designs in your skin. But her touch wasn’t meek, as it returned to your thigh and traveled up. You were keenly aware how close your clothed pussy was to being exposed in the dim light of the basement because your spread position over Sevika’s legs caused the jean skirt to slide up your smooth upper thighs. 
A ragged gasp leaves your mouth as said skirt is yanked over your hips with jerky movements to bunch around your waist. “W-what are you doing?” Desperate, you try to turn your still captured head to look back at the basement stairs. Yet, your indecent exposure is not a concern for your brute. Instead she chuckled. “Helping you to be honest little mouse. You said, ‘I hate your touch”?” she questions in a mean mocking tone. “This touch, doll?” A reluctant moan is pulled out of your mouth as Sevika suddenly cups your pussy.
Even through your soaked cotton panties there’s no hiding the pulsing of your clit. It quivered in need to the point of pain. Loud, deep laughter rocks Sevika’s chest. “Lie all you want little mouse but your pussy is sobbing for me.”
It was true. How could you possibly deny it as the heel of her damn hand found your clit and rocked against it with deep presses that left your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “There you go, doll. Take what you need.” she coos as she watches your hips mindlessly ground into her palm. “This the same touch you hate? The same hand your slutty pussy is soaking?” 
Your mind was blurry but a kernel of defiance still lingered. “M-mhm I h-hate you. Hate seeing your face. Just leave me alone.” Truthfully if she left you now you’d likely spontaneously combust in frustration. 
And because she sucked, your crescendo stuttered to an abrupt halt at the absence of her hand. “No no no no no.”
“Shh doll.” You yelp at the quick snatch of your panties that Sevika tears with only one hand. “Here you go.” 
The immediate heavenly relief of a finger against your bud is so intense you fold over into her shoulder. “Shiiiiit.” you goan as she works you so expertly white flashes across your eyes. “Be mad at me all you want but don’t you dare think you could have this with anyone else. It’s me and you. Always has been - always will be.” She gives zero warning before two thick fingers slid into your slick channel. In the empty basement, the lecherous sound of your cum smacking as Sevika relentlessly thrust into your cunt overstimulated your senses. Any lingering rebellion was fucked out of you as you were held in place by her metal hand at your nape. Taking only what she desired to give you. “Sevie, sevie, sevie please I’m sorry.” sobs raked your body as you turned into the girl you thought you left behind. Pleased, her thrust became faster and harder and took a new frantic spread. “There, isn’t that better than being a little bitch.” Her breath was erratic and a frenzy lustful glare glazed over her eyes. “Say it. Say it and I’ll give you what you want.” You didn’t need clarity on her demand. Because it had been burning under your skin since you last saw her two years ago. “I missed you, Sevie.” 
Her grunt of approval is a blessing to your ears and you scream her name as the thumb from her metal hand gently circles your clit and she pounds into your quivering hole. You cum so hard and long you slump against Sevika, completely depleted and blissed out. To your utter surprise, Sevika gathers your crumpled body in her arms and gives a tight squeeze as if content. Her head nuzzles your neck, kissing up the column. “I’ve missed you too little mouse.”
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siempre-bucky · 2 years
Text
lemons and iron
Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: Eddie didn't realize how badly he craved your touch until you cleaned him up after a fight with Jason Carver.
warnings: mentions of wounds, cuts, blood
wc: 1.6k
a/n: thank you for requesting, anon! I hope you liked it!!!
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It was the third time you aggressively placed your pointer finger on your book, a low rumble escaped your throat as you found your place in the middle of the page. Sure, it was your fault that you chose to read during lunch. You looked up at your friends, reading the same book with less frustration written on their delicate features. The cause of the frustration and lack of focus? Eddie Munson and Jason Carver.  
They always managed to turn the crowded cafeteria into their own western standoff. Some comment leads to Eddie hopping on tables which leads to a bitter exchange of words from Jason while Eddie laughs at him. You kept your eyes trained on your book, knowing that if you looked up at him you wouldn’t be able to look away. 
Safe to say you had a crush on the guy you shared most of your classes with. Eddie was always kind to you, like when he sat beside you in English he always made sure to give you the handout that didn’t look completely eaten by the printer. He stepped aside when he saw you coming into class so you could enter first, sticking his arm out and a charming smile adorning his lips. He cracked jokes and always laughed at your quips. It made you feel fuzzy just sitting there thinking about him. 
The sound of the table moving and the thud of shoes hitting the ground made you finally look at the scene unfolding. Jason and Eddie stood there, eyes locked in a bitter battle and their spines straight as blades. Eddie’s hands fell casually to his side while Jason’s fists balled angrily. “Shit,” you muttered under your breath. 
Jason said something inaudible to the crowd growing around them, then stepped forward and jammed two of his fingers into Eddie’s collarbone. Eddie chuckled, “Alright, that’s enough, big boy,” he scoffed as he turned away to leave. Jason scowled and shoved him again. 
You don’t know how it happened, as if a confident spirit overtook your body, you didn’t realize you jumped out of your seat and quickly walked over. You stood in between them, “Jason that’s enough,” you shouted. 
“This has nothing to do with you,” he seethed, his opened hand pressing to your chest and shoving you to the cold floor. Eddie’s expression didn’t change until he heard the smack of your head hitting the floor. His ring-clad hand balled up, punching Jason square in the cheek. 
The world around you was spinning, the sounds of fists colliding with faces, and the cheers from students egging them on became static-like. After the dizziness subsided, you slowly stood up and gripped Eddie by the back of his denim vest while a teacher restrained the basketball star. “Are you ok?” Eddie asked, turning to you. Your heart sank at the sight of his bloody face, his lower lip cut with the crimson fluid dribbling down his chin. Then you looked at Jason, small holes littered his face from Eddie’s rings, he looked worse in comparison.
“I’m fine,” you whispered with a small nod, “We need to get you to the nurse.” 
Eddie let you walk with him to the nurse's office, the pain in his face making him walk slower than normal but you didn’t mind. You matched his speed, looking up every once in a while to check if the bleeding stopped; it didn't. Once you reached the light-colored oak door, you saw the white piece of paper taped to it with ‘back in 15’ written in red Sharpie. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you groaned. 
“Look. I’m all good, sweetheart. No need to worry about me, kay?” Eddie told you, regretting smiling down in your direction after his lip resplit open.
You shook your head and grabbed onto the sleeve of his well-worn Metallica shirt, once again dragging him down the hall. You always kept a small first aid kit in your backpack, just in case of emergencies. The emergencies in your mind typically included paper cuts, ceramics class incidents, and gym class, but never did you think you’d have to use its contents on your crush. 
You nearly threw him into the empty girl's bathroom even after his continuous protests. He hopped up onto the sink, letting his long legs dangle while you placed your bag on the ground and dug through it trying to locate the box. 
After placing the white box on the edge of the sink, you dragged your hands along his own and slipped off the bloody rings. 
Eddie’s body stiffened as he felt your hands on him. Watching diligently as your graceful hands slid off the rings one by one, letting them fall into the sink with loud clinks against the porcelain. Your fingers felt so soft as you traced along the digits, he could smell the faint scent of your lemon hand cream mixed with the iron of his blood. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but when you put it on during class he’d imagine what it would be like to have your hands on him.  
They were everything he hoped they would be. Soft, delicate, careful, perfection. He looked down at you, your face solemn as you wiped around his knuckles with a wet paper towel. “Does it hurt?” you asked gently, grabbing a small roll of gauze. 
“No, not anymore,” he answered simply. He pressed his lips together in a tight line, afraid he might blurt out how much he was enjoying this. Even though it stung every time you touched it, he didn’t mind as long as it was you touching him. 
“I-I uh have to clean your face,” you informed him nervously. 
Eddie nodded and leaned forward ever so slightly in anticipation. You grabbed another paper towel and hesitantly held his chin in your hand. A wave of warmth rushed through him, goosebumps spreading out on his pale skin. Naturally, he leaned into your touch, his chin relaxing into the palm of your hand. 
Your other hand worked on his split lip, avoiding the cut as you swiped away the dried blood. Eddie Munson had freckles, you noted. They were sparse, barely there, and kissed on rather than dusted. You were envious of the angel that got to place them on his skin while Eddie was envious of every person who’s gotten to feel your soothing touch. You let your finger linger on his swollen lip while you folded the paper towel and wiped it under his nose. 
“Fuck,” he hissed, jolting backward as you bumped his nose. His brown eyes instantly filled with tears, his hand wrapping around your wrist. Your eyebrows knitted together, a string of apologies flooding from your lips and your other hand pulling away from his chin 
“Jesus Christ,” you whined, “I am so sorry, Eddie.” 
He exhaled deeply and released you while he blinked away the tears. “It’s ok, princess,” he winced, “You didn’t mean to… keep going.” Keep touching me. 
Eddie closed his eyes as he felt your soft hands on his face once more. He wasn’t used to someone touching him so delicately, even the nurses he had over the years weren’t as nice as you. He typically got a scolding from the school nurse after one of his lunchroom fights and a band-aid shoved roughly onto his cut. 
But you? He craved your delicate touch. He never thought he’d be able to experience a touch like this, he never felt worthy of such intimacy, certainly not by a girl he fancied.  
You leaned in a little closer while you placed ill-tasting ointment on the small cuts he gained. “Don’t taste it,” you giggled as his tongue poked out to touch his cut. In your laughter, you placed your hand on his knee. 
Eddie noticed right away as the shockwaves went up his thigh. “I was tempted,” he chuckled as he opened his eyes, his hand finding yours. You flinched but didn’t pull away, allowing him to wrap his hand around yours. 
“Eddie,” you whispered, leaving in closer. 
“Yes?” He leaned in, closing more of the distance. 
His lips were right there, bruised yet still beautiful. Your eyes flickered to the bridge of his nose, “I need to put a band-aid on your nose.” 
Eddie blushed and rescinded his hand from yours. He nodded nervously and dipped his head low. You rummaged through your bandaids until you found the one most fitting. You placed a black band-aid on his nose and put your hands on the sides of his face, lifting his blushing face to make sure you covered all the cuts. “Do I look ok?” he smirked, his own hands snaking up your forearms. 
“Perfect,” you grinned, nodding along to your statement. 
You stood there in silence after he got off the sink, his hands refusing to let you go. “Your hands are soft,” he commented, making you smile. 
“I-it’s this lemon stuff I use. I got it at the mall and my friends said it would help the dryness during winter, and they actually do get reall-'' you stopped your nervous rant as he started to laugh. 
“I know,” he said, his thumbs running along your wrist. 
Your fingers began to twitch lightly against his skin. Then it hit you—he was enjoying this. The pads of your fingers pressed harder into his skin, pulling his face closer to yours. “Can I?” you whispered. 
He nodded eagerly. You pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, your lips were even softer than the hands that bandaged him. “You missed,” he teased. 
Eddie felt your lips spread into a smile. “I’ll kiss you properly when your lip heals,” you tell him lightheartedly, lifting up on your tiptoes while you brought his head lower and kissed his forehead, your nose scrunching from his bangs tickling your nose. 
“Let me hold your hand instead?” he asked, raising one of his eyebrows. 
You nodded eagerly and pulled away, letting him take your hand in his. 
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badasmuse · 6 months
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“Three Weeks”
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Kim Seungmin x Reader
Warnings: 18+ (MDNI), penetration, language, lowercase intended, kinda sub!seungmin, whiny!seungmin, dickhead!seungmin
Summary: seungmin has been ignoring you for three weeks and you’re over it
a/n: i know i primarily write for bada but i also have a hyper fixation on seungmin and simon dominic so once in awhile i’ll drop something about them and some others too🤸🏽
three weeks. it’s been three weeks since your best friend confessed his feelings towards you and three weeks since he’s ghosted you. so much for having feelings for you.
you’ve done everything. called, texted, called his friends, you even showed up at his dance practice but he hid somewhere in the building and you’re just too lazy to look around (and you’ve gotten lost in there before. you don’t need it happening again.)
it’s becoming unbearable. you haven’t seen him in so long it hurts. you immediately grab your phone dialing chris’ number.
“hey y/n!” he exclaims.
“is seungmin around?” you ask sadly.
his once happy tone turned sad, “he’s at the dorms. y/n are you okay?”
you open your mouth to respond to his question but close it, opting with an, “can i go over there?”
“yeah should i let him-“ you cut him off.
“no please. thanks chris love you, muah.” you blow a kiss through the phone and hang up.
grabbing your shoes and keys, you hop in your car and drive over the the dorms. you throw on a mask and put on a hat before running into the building and running up the stairs to the door. you pound on it anxiously.
“dammit jeongin you just left- oh…” seungmin opened the door, he thought it was the beloved maknae but it was in fact not. instead it was you. you angrily push him back into the dorm before shutting and locking the door.
“what the hell seungmin?” you say. “it’s been three fucking weeks. why are you avoiding me?”
he doesn’t respond, walking to the couch instead.
“kim seungmin i know you hear me.” you follow, your voice cracking.
“you should go home y/n.” he mumbles as he starts scrolling on his phone.
you snatch it, putting it out of reach. when he tries going for it you push him back on the couch, climbing on his lap and pinning his arms to his side.
his eyes widen, “y/n get up.” he says,
“just listen to me!” you squirm, struggling to hold him down. “i just want you to know i like you too! i didn’t want to tell you over the phone this has to be said in person.”
“y/n you have to get up.” he says, ignoring everything you said.
but it’s too late.
you open your mouth to yell at him but then you feel it. he’s hard and you feel it pressing against your ass. he blushes and you let go of his wrists. “i’m… sorry.”
“can you just get up and go home so i can take care of this?” he mumbles.
your hands trail down his chest, dipping under his shirt to scratch at his abs lightly. “let me take care of it.” you say softly.
“why would y-you do that?” he asks jerking when your nails drag across his lower stomach.
“because i like you too seungmin. i’ve always thought about this..” you whisper in his ear, pulling his sweats down. “i wish you would’ve let me talk instead of ignoring me for three fucking weeks.” you stand up to take your bottoms off and climb back on him. you waste no time sinking onto his dick, trying not to make noise.
him, on the other hand, was a moaning, whimpering mess. “fuck you feel so good.” he whines.
his hands caress your waist as you bounce on him, hands tangled in his hair. you let out little moans in his ear, loving the way his dick hit your spot perfectly.
“shit y/n stop clenching i’m gonna cum.” he whimpers.
you stop clenching, in fact you stop moving all together. “apologize.” you whisper, “apologize or you can’t cum.”
seungmin throws his head back, “please y/n i’m so close.”
“say you’re sorry. sorry for ignoring me. sorry for being mean.” you pick up your pace again, bouncing on his dick like you’re a basketball being dribbled down the court by steph curry.
“fuck i’m sorry!!” he moans out. “i’m sorry baby. fuck i’m cumming!” he pulls you down flush against his pelvis as he fills you up, the feeling making you cum on him with a loud moan.
you both pant, holding each other close. your legs quiver against his hips. he grabs the blanket on the back of the couch wrapping it around you both after laying down with him still inside you.
it was quiet. you both enjoyed the comfortable silence.
until,
“god did you have to fuck on the couch? it’s bad enough i had to hear your.” lino says walking back to his room.
“oh yeah, lino’s here.” seungmin says.
“seungmin!”
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chocsra · 7 months
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"Playing with Balls are Not For The Weak (Pause on that.)"
15! basketball plyr! chuuya x gn! reader - HIGHSCHOOL AU, HEADCANONS + DRABBLES
a/n: as per request, thank you @sstarshroom my pookie ☺️, sincere apologies for the title its my toilet humor. next week will be dazai content im sorry my dear dazai fans
content: headcanons, drabbles, fluff, slowburn, pre-relationship,"in a world of boys, hes a gentleman", chuuya as them short hoopers, relationship of these two actually sucking at life, cheeky and smug chuuya, idiots in love, dumbass behaviour
as a classmate, chuuya would have a pretty big friendgroup but only really hang out with a few select people;
in class, he's quiet and focuses on school;
he's also naturally smart, a good 80s-90s student without much effort;
chuuya takes academics seriously but since he doesn't really have to work his ass off to study, he wouldn't be competitive in school, so sorry to all the academic rivals to lovers girlys
you know what he would take seriously though, sports.
and it's not even the serious shit, you could play dodgeball and he's sweating his ass off;
so certified hotshot of the school, short king energy, okay.
Your teacher tediously writes away on a few documents of paper, adjusting his glasses with the flick of his hand. "We have a few boxes from the food drive," he announces, catching the attention of your working classroom. "I need a strong person to carry them to the office, pleas-" a loud smack of a laptop closing can be heard, "MEMEME!!" the class goes silent, staring as your classmate, Chuuya Nakahara, happily voluneer to deliver a few boxes.
okay, okay, so as a classmate, people either think he's slightly irritating or alright, it's another story in gym class though, nobody likes him.
"Pass the ball- PASS THE BALL!" Chuuya yells, you couldn't lie; him wrapping a piece of red cloth around his head like some kind of warrior was sorta concerning? No, really concerning. The small boy leeches his arms out as defense, concentration written all over his face. You dribble the basketball a few times, about to pass it to him. "I said pass it!!" he shouts, rude. You furrow your brows in offense before harshly throwing the ball in his direction, aiming for his head.
Unfortunately, throwing basketballs at your own team player's forehead didn't result in an instant win. As you two sat on the bench, watching the current game along sidelines as Chuuya rubs his temple with an icepack, his red headband cloth resting atop of his knee, focussing intentively. When your team has been declared lost, he clenched the icepack in his hand and starts profusely running around the gym, mourning a gym class basketball game.
I mean, it's not like he's a terrible person though, you've seen the guy, he can be nice, he's got it in his system. Like one time in gym class, dodgeball specifcally.
"Ow! The fuck?" yet another dread of gym class was at your service, the heated air of dodgeballs flying left and right through the air overwhelmed you to say the least. And one of those balls just hit you right on the head, you pensively rub your temple, hearing a loud "You're out!!" from the opposing team.
Curse words roll off your tongue in embarrassment, about to do the walk of shame to the bench until a hand rests on your shoulder. "Hey," you twist your head around, seeing Chuuya approach you, as everyone else fights like their damn lives depended on it. "Did the ball hit your head?" he asks, the boy had short copper locks that framed his face pretty nicely, this time there wasn't a red cloth tied around his head.
"Yea," you quip, turning away from him, the hand on your shoulder lifts as you feel soft fingers brush away some of your hair from the side of your face. "Yeah, that's not allowed, you're still in the game, okay?" the redhead assures you as he casually takes a quick look at your temple. You nod releuctantly, as he pats your shoulder again a few times before smugly continuing the game. Since when did Chuuya Nakahara abide the rules?
You know, there seems to be a reaccuring pattern between you two. Everytime you're near each other, someone always get hit in the face with a ball.
But, there seemed to be more casual conversations, ones that didn't include violence with sports equipment.
As a friend, Chuuya was teasing, he always said no to what you asked him to do, but ends up doing it anyway.
"Can you hold my bag?" you ask, "No." the redhead says as he grabs your bag anyway
but as a friend, he came with more benefits. a trustable walking partner.
It's that time of the season, December, where snow engulfed every pathway you walked on. It was one of those days after school, walking home in the freezing cold; but today was unlucky, you were caught in a snow storm. And apparently, your friendgroup is nowhere to be found.
To be honest, walking alone is kind of scary, intimidating, terrifiying. You would run, but ice was everywhere, tripping in public wouldn't be any better than fear.
You saw a black jacket, red scarf, and a backpack with soccer keychains and a massive waterbottle. Most obvious feature, was the black gloves the figure wore. "Chuuya!" you call out, the boy almost immediately spins around, nodding to you as a greeting. "What's up?!" he flashes a cheeky smile, the redhead was pretty far away from you, and you weren't just interested in a simple 'hello'.
"Can you walk with me?" you ask, shoving your hands in your pockets from the cold. The redhead doesn't falter his smile, not hearing you as he had earphones on. "What?" he asks, communicating with you whilst walking backwards; some assholes just don't care about splitting your head open on ice.
"Can you walk with me?!" you repeat, the ginger stops in his tracks, muttering an "ohhh" as he speeds towards you. Again, some assholes just don't care about their life. And so, Chuuya doing a quick slip and drop onto the sidewalk, in a snowstorm, whilst running to you would be the outcome of this story.
...
You immediately start laughing your ass off, watching as any smugness on his face completely disapates. Accepting defeat in every form. "Fuck!" you cackle, slapping your knee. You attempt to skedaddle to him, still laughing before.. Slip. You fall onto him, your elbow piercing his ribs, the boy chokes out a cry of pain before you laid together on the ground in pure defeat. You know what passing by cars thought of when they saw you two? Two teenagers laying on the ground, 'X' style, in the middle of a fucking snowstorm.
You made it home safely, having to make your friend and classmate, Chuuya Nakahara, hot chocolate as an apology.
yeah, having chuuya as your friend can get pretty hefty, and violence is all that seems to be thrown at your friendship;
as a friend, you and chuuya didn't feel like friends sometimes, it was weird;
he constantly asked you to come to his games, in all honesty - you were too busy or just felt like staying home;
there was one day though, you did come to his game, out of pure curiousity
and when he saw your face, accompanied with a wave, the teenager knew; he was inlove.
he was really bad at showing it though
After enough convincing, you finally showed up to another one of Chuuya's games, you've already once; but apparently this one was really important.
You were actually concentrating, it was getting really heated, time was getting thiner, and the scores were relatively even.
The crowd roared as Chuuya took the ball, running through the court with a focussed but cheeky look on his face.
Just as he reached the net, he yelled out the loudest, unexpected sentence.
"[Y/N]! This one's for you!!"
The crowd's jaw drops in shock and anticipation, whoosh, he missed miserably.
damn, you guys really suck.
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spliffymae · 1 year
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musicproducer!connie…
kio’s notes - some sfw headcanons inspired by this connie fic i read on wp a while back. it was my first connie fic and the start of this connie brain rot. i wish it was still up 🤧 shit was soooo good!
also inspired by @chrollohearttags rockstar!eren series and @privateparty3 rapper!connie
also check this
⊱ ──────── {.⋅ ✺ ⋅.}──────── ⊰
now let me say this,
connie mfn springer had a golden ear!
he could make a song out of anything, truth be told. his abuela used to tell him he was blessed with “god’s gift.” yeah, he had a voice as soothing and smooth as velvet. but put it over a track with a piano medley and some soft beats, oh baby! the man had a voice that made the greek muses swoon.
musicproducer!connie had a couple of his own songs out on streaming platforms. he mostly used spotify and apple music for his official music, and soundcloud for official music or for quick ideas he wanted his followers to hear. he loved singing, but not as much as he loved to create. producing was where connie truly felt he belonged. he couldn’t count the number of times he’s fallen asleep at his desk, drooling on his piano keys because he pulled an all nighter to finish a song because he got a sound stuck in his head and just needed to bring it to life.
(honorable mentions to the times he hears songs not by him and thinks “i can make this better” and just completely changed the entire vibe of the song)
but musicproducer!connie loved sounds. everything and anything had potential to be a song. whether it be the crunching of the fall leaves under his boot, or the bounce of the basketball he dribbled in his backyard court, or even the sound of his car’s indicator—connie found music in any sound.
if you asked musicproducer!connie what he couldn’t live without, he would describe to you in detail his music setup. his laptop, the hard drive with all his songs, his drum pad, his bass guitar, his red beats headphones, the software he uses…he would go on forever!
musicproducer!connie would be the genius behind his friends’ music as well. they would come to him either with a chopped up idea of what they wanted or sometimes come to him empty handed with nothing but a hope. either way, connie would be sitting in his home studio with his friends, working on a song. he loved helping them, so he looked at it as great bonding time too.
musicproducer!connie was also quite big on social media. he had a following of 700k on instagram and over a million listeners across his streaming services. he also had a twitch, where he would post at least twice a week, one of those times being him making instrumentals from scratch with his viewers watching and helping. he loved to interact with his followers. knowing there were people out there who connected with his music on a deep level made him so happy. hell, the first single he dropped he was kicking his feet at all the supportive feedback he was getting.
musicproducer!connie even did shows here and there! they would be house shows, with maybe 1000 people at least. he would sing some of his hits, but would mainly be the dj, working the booth for his friends. he always and only performed with his friends.
honestly, music was everything to connie and then some. it was his passion. it was what made him who he is. but most of all, it was something he always did with you.
yessir! musicproducer!connie would be telling a lie if he said he became the artist he is today on his own. if it weren’t for you, he probably would’ve quit a long time ago, when his sophomore project didn’t receive as much hype/attention as his debut.
you were always his biggest fan, though. you would use your social media following to promote his work, much to connie’s joy. what he loved more than sharing his music was you sharing it, because in turn you would be showcasing the relationship between you and connie to your hundreds of thousands of followers.
like those times he would be sitting on the floor of his living room, creating a song on his laptop. you would be behind him, sitting between the couch and him with the side of your face pressed against his back. he would be in his own world with his headphones on, you would be busy on your phone, and yet connie felt it was one of the best ways to spend time with you.
your glossy lips would be in a faint pout as you recorded yourself, stretching your arm up and out to show connie’s entire back, this tan freckled skin showcasing the tense of his muscles whenever he would reach for his pen to scribble away notes in his notebook.
you would simply post the video to your snapchat, captioning it “1/2 of us is in their creative bag rn”. you would follow up that snap with another short video, this time it being you leaving small kisses along the expanse of connie’s back. because of your gloss the lip prints were visible and you would smile mischievously.
musicproducer!connie loved you. he loved to have you near him. so when he would go on these red carpet events with his friends, you would be at his side, the two of you dressed beautifully as you smiled for the cameras. connie would make it his mission to have you flustered the whole night, giving you soft neck kisses and whispering both sweet and naughty things in your ear while he held you close. like,
“you look so beautiful tonight, i’m so lucky to have you, mi cielita.”
“i can’t wait to take this off of you, baby.. give you the proper attention you deserve.”
“been missing my lil’ songbird so much.” he would just miss the shell of your ear with his teeth, looking down at you with his eyes droopy with lust. “have you missed me, baby?”
“of course, baby. but the show ain’t even start yet.” you said with a squeal, already feeling the blood rush straight to your cheeks. there was no doubt the cameras caught that. if they somehow didn’t, then they sure must’ve captured the lovestruck look connie gave you whenever his eyes would fall on you.
“i can’t help it, mami. just love having you.” he would mumble, giving you the softest of pecks as to not mess up your lipstick.
musicproducer!connie was in deep when it came to you. and if it wasn’t obvious by the way he showered you with physical affection, then it must be from the way he had you as his producer tag, the five second audio starting with you giggling, then in your best ‘smooth r&b’ voice, saying “issa connie springer production.” connie remembers the first project he used that on—a joint lover’s ep onyankopon wanted him on. til this day, how many years later, every time a song from the ep comes on, your cheeks get hot and body all tingly at the flustered feeling that overwhelms you. it was your first time ever being on a record
musicproducer!connie used you for a lot of his songs, it was mainly on the background vocals of different projects he would do. but he also used you as inspiration. he moonlighted as a songwriter, mainly helping other artists with filler lyrics or strengthening what they already have. it would be rare connie was asked to write a song start to finish, but whenever he did, he found he was thinking back to your relationship. both good and bad times, just thinking of you filled him with enough inspiration to create several masterpieces.
yeah, musicproducer!connie loves you. he has what seems to be an endless amount of ways to express his love to you. but if all else fails, he knows his music will do it’s job every. damn. time.
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steviewashere · 29 days
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Balls in Laundry Baskets: An Apology Chp. 3 (Final)
Rating: Teen and Up CW: None for this part Tags: Post Season 4, Post Canon, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arguing, Making Up, Apologizing, Steve Harrington & Lucas Sinclair Friendship, Eddie Munson Gets Put in His Place, Eddie Munson has Asthma, Lucas Sinclair is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Protective Steve Harrington, Emotionally Hurt Lucas Sinclair, Emotionally Hurt Steve Harrington, Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Means Well He's Just Defensive, Hurt People Hurt Others
This is chapter three! Want to read chapter one? Click here. For chapter two, Click Here
Can also be read on AO3
🏀—————🏀 Come Thursday, Eddie could admit that he was a bit nervous. Considering the parameters that Lucas set for him: no complaining, no criticizing, and no refusing. Yeah, Eddie can say that he is rightfully nervous. He doesn’t have much of a filter or a ton of control when it comes to his brain to mouth, but he’s got to get the reigns somehow. Even thinks about just not talking and going with whatever physical activity Lucas wants to do. Go with how Steve moves and how he coaches them through a basketball practice.
And it started good. He did what he was told, wore one of his Metallica t-shirts with the sleeves cut off, a pair of ratty joggers transformed into shorts. Sneakers and socks and put his hair up in a bun. Max was there, jeering at them, complaining about ‘sweaty boy smell’. It felt good to move the way he was. Up and down the court. Twisting around Lucas, just barely dodging Steve. Making a few three point shots and some from off of the side.
He’s worked up a sweat. Breathing heavy, ragged and panting. Wheezing, but he ignores that part, even as it makes it harder and harder to breathe. (Maybe he should’ve brought up his lifelong asthma diagnosis and the inhaler he definitely doesn’t have hidden in his shorts pocket.) 
Steve comes up to him, hair drenched in sweat and thighs glistening. Slaps his right shoulder—a term of endearment, so Max has told him. “You’re doing a good job, Eds,” Steve praises. “Let’s get some water in you and we can go for another half an hour. Then, we’ll be back here in like two weeks, yeah?”
Eddie pants, chest heaving, stuttering. His stomach is twisting. And he’s starting to get light headed, but he pushes that away. “Nah, Stevie, let’s keep going,” he strains to say, “I can—I can go some—Can go some more.”
However, Lucas strides past him then, towards Max. He shoots a look of concern. Quirked eyebrow, widened eyes, soft scowl. “Eddie, dude, it’s alright to take a break,” he states. “In fact, I usually take a good fifteen right now. Throw back some cold water, pat away my sweat, put some Tiger Balm on. Y’know, what I’d usually do at practice.” He even grabs for an ice cold bottle of water—its beading and foggy and so incredibly tantalizing. Lucas shakes it, Eddie can hear the ice clinking around. “Just take it, Eddie. It’s good to replenish.”
He waves a hand, though. Shouldering past Steve coming towards him. And grabs the basketball. Dribbles it, passes it back and forth between his hands, rolls it around on his palms. “Come on, guys! Let’s do this some more!” He urges. Because he has to prove this. Prove that he cares. That he wants to do this. That he’s capable of consuming and enjoying both Lucas and Steve’s interests. Because they matter. These people matter to Eddie and if he doesn’t show that they matter, then who knows…Eddie would prefer to not find out.
Steve shares a sidelong glance with Lucas. Looks back to Eddie, concerned and oddly a bit afraid. “If you want to continue play for a few minutes,” he says slowly, “then I guess you can?” Though, he takes a careful step forward. Places a tentative hand on Eddie’s sweaty shoulder and squeezes. Softly, he says, “You don’t have to play right now. You need a break, baby. It’s good to take a break.”
“I’ll survive for a few minutes,” Eddie continues to strain. His breath is still rattling and he can’t quite catch it fully, but it’s fine. Everything is fine. “Nobody’s ever died from basketball, I’m sure.” Then, he turns towards the court and saunters away.
It takes him only a few more laps up and down the court to really feel the effects of not taking a break. His chest burns as if somebody threw a molotov cocktail down his throat. He can’t quite get neither the black specks out of his vision nor the dizzying swoosh in his head. For a moment, he swears his head may fall right off his neck. And as he raises the basketball above his head to sink another basket, the world begins to teeter. He’s gasping for breath and not landing a single one.
Arms wrap around him before he can crash to the ground. Distantly, the sound of the basketball dissipates, bouncing away from him. Gently, his body is leaned up against something. Somebody is digging into his pockets. And then his inhaler is between his lips.
He follows the person’s lead. Taking in puffs as they’re pressed into him. Focusing on the sensations around him. A thumb on the back of his hand. Fingers through his damp, yet crunchy curls. Slowly, his vision comes back to him. His ears are ringing, but he can see.
Lucas is crouched in front of him, holding his inhaler. Steve is on his right, soothing him with his fingers. They’re both sporting looks of adamant fear. And hot shameful guilt curls inside him.
“—die? Eddie?” Steve calls out. He blinks at Lucas, too exhausted to loll his head towards Steve. “Eddie, come on, say something.”
“Did I make the shot?” He croaks.
Just barely, he hears Lucas sigh under his breath, “Jesus Christ.” His hands fall away from where they were up and presenting the inhaler. Wipes one down the entire length of his face and shoots the softest glare Eddie thinks he’s ever seen. “You fucking scared us is what you did!” He exclaims.
“Lucas,” Steve warns.
“What?! I can’t admit that he scared me? I mean—“ Lucas looks directly at Eddie. Something inside of him burns more, that curl of guilt growing bigger and bigger. Overfed like a house cat. “—Dude, why didn’t you say something about having asthma? I wouldn’t have agreed to this if I knew it could…God, you almost died over basketball. Do you know how absurd of a statement that is to make?”
Eddie merely shrugs. “I wanted to play. Had to make sure I was being a good friend,” he meekly states.
Lucas gives him another soft glare. Sighs exasperated. And requests quietly, “Steve, can I have a moment alone with him?”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m pretty positive, Steve. Nothing bad, I just…Just give me a moment and then we can go get burgers or something, yeah?” Lucas doesn’t turn to watch Steve leave, keeping his focus completely on Eddie. For the first time in a while, Eddie feels completely bare and flayed. He’s not ready for whatever lecture this is going to be. Or how Lucas is about to break off their friendship, but he readies himself anyway. Sits patiently as Lucas calculates him with eyes alone.
Then, Lucas speaks. “That was stupid,” he states easily. “The stupidest thing I think I’ve ever seen somebody pull. And I’m kind of ticked that you didn’t just take a break. Your body needs that, y’know? Otherwise, shit like this happens.”
“I get it, man,” Eddie grumbles. But his voice softens, saddened. “Just tell me to go and I’ll leave. I’m sorry that I didn’t care like I should’ve. And I’m sorry that I was shitty to you. And I’m sorry that I didn’t make it up to you sooner. But please save the lecture and rip the bandaid off.”
Lucas’s eyebrows furrow. “What? Eddie, I’m not telling you to fuck off. You’re my friend, dude. A…Eddie, you’re a good friend,” he states, an admittance. “And I—I appreciate you going out of your way to try and include my interests, really include me and what I like to do. I’m so fucking glad that you pulled your head out of your ass and apologized, that it was meaningful, that you promised yourself to be better. But—“
“But?”
Again, Lucas sighs. Looks down at his fallen hands. And back up to Eddie’s face. “—But I don’t need you dying just to prove yourself to me. That’s…That’s insane. And, honestly, your apology was enough. It was.
“Because you meant every single word of it. I could actually tell that you were sorry. You were so eager to do it. And you…God, Eddie, you’re only person that’s ever apologized me like that. Not even Mike and Dustin have apologized yet—and they’ve had so many moments to get over their own biases and talk to me. But they haven’t. You have.” His face does something a little sad, but it’s quickly schooled. “You have and that’s what matters to me. I forgave you the moment you apologized, but I was willing to let you prove yourself or whatever.
“Which, thank you for trying, but I’d prefer you alive and hysterical and insane about D&D then not have you here at all,” Lucas admits quietly. He scoots himself over to Eddie’s right side. To where Eddie can finally bring his head to look. “Thank you for apologizing. For trying. But we’ll find something else for all of us to do together. Just not today, and that’s okay.”
Eddie, sort of embarrassingly, notices that his eyes are glazed with tears. He sniffs, chews the inside of his cheek, and swallows down the small cry that wants to escape. He throws out a soft smile, to which Lucas returns. “Thanks for saving my life, Sinclair. Should’ve just taken your guys’ advice. But…I’d like to find something for all of us to do that doesn’t, y’know, involve me having an asthma attack and almost dying on you.”
“You could watch Chicago Bulls games with us,” Lucas offers. “It’s not the worst thing in the world. Just have to endure Steve and I yelling about missed baskets and calling the players names for not doing great.”
Chuckling softly, Eddie nudges Lucas’s shoulder. “Hey, as long as I can have a Mtn Dew and a bowl of popcorn, I’ll be seated and watching. Might have to explain what’s going on, but I can learn to enjoy the games with you guys.”
“Honestly, there’s not much to explain. As long as the Chicago Bulls are scoring high and actually making their baskets, that’s all that you need to focus on,” Lucas explains. “But enough about basketball. Let’s get you some water, a sweat towel, and a burger. We’ll talk about watching sports later.” He hefts himself up, offers his hands out for Eddie to take, and pulls them up to about eye level. Lucas is still a bit shorter than him, but he’s sure that in no time, they’ll be the same height.
Without warning, Lucas is wrapping himself around Eddie. He responds back enthusiastically. Squeezing them together as tight as they’ll go. “Thank you, again, Lucas. Fucking saved my life. I’ll be in your debt forever.”
Lucas pats his back and muffles into his shoulder, “Chicago Bulls games, that’s how you repay me.” But there’s a smile, Eddie can feel it through the cotton of his shirt. “Let’s go, man. Steve gets impatient if I take too long.”
Eddie sighs, pulls away, and rolls his eyes. “He does that with you, too? He’s such a stickler about being on time places, even when there’s no timer.”
“I know, right? Love the guy, but he’s got a weird internal clock.”
“Agreed, Sinclair. But I guess we’ll just have to live with that. We’re all dorks anyway.” He leans in to Lucas’s space as they walk back towards Steve’s car. Whispers low, “Steve doesn’t believe he is, but just ask him about Star Trek and you’ll get him going. Figured that out a few days ago and it’s kind of fascinating to watch.”
Lucas hums, nods, and runs out to Steve’s car. Shouts for Steve to hear, “Hey, Steve! How do you feel about Star Trek?!”
Eddie hides his laughter as Steve groans. “You told him?! I thought I could hide that!” He whines.
“Indulging interests, babe!” Eddie uses as his explanation.
“Lucas, tell him about The Karate Kid!” Steve shouts back, smug fucking grin on his face. And Lucas groans just as Steve did.
As they clamber into the car, talking amongst themselves, excited and happy and together—Eddie thinks about indulging interests more often. Star Trek, Chicago Bulls, The Karate Kid, and all.
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