#I say this as someone who is not her “fan” | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

willowsnook · 2 days ago

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cat and mouse

jack hughes x reader

Hockey was your favorite sport but you hated most hockey players. They were cocky, commanded every room they were in, and expected panties to always drop at their feet. You’d had your fair share of run ins with the type when you went to BU and working in the industry post grad meant you had to deal with a lot of annoying personalities regularly. But you were good at keeping your work and personal life separate.

It seemed your luck had run out tonight though. Every Thursday night, you met your friends at a small bar in downtown Newark to chat about the week and pregame the weekend. The bar was a good in between of being a dive and a sportsbar so to you it was perfect. It was busier than usual tonight, a group of tenish guys seated at your regular table much to your annoyance.

“Wait those guys look so familiar,” your friend Rachel said, eyeing them over her drink. “I think they’re Devils players. Right y/n?”

As the hockey girl of your friend group you sighed, but looked over. Sure enough she was right. Your friends buzzed with excitement, the single ones anyways. Conversation carried on after the temporary distraction and you were buzzed after a while. Getting up to get another drink, you looked for an opening but didn’t find one.

You tapped on a figure in front of you, hoping to squeeze in.

“Excuse me,” you started and he turned around. You started to ask if you could slip by him but he cut you off.

“No pictures tonight sweetheart,” he said, a brief look of annoyance on his face.

“Awesome,” you deadpanned. “Can you move then so I can get a drink?”

He blinked in surprise, his face flushing while the guy he was next to burst out laughing.

“Nice going Jacky,” his friend said grinning. He moved to the side to let you through and you ignored his gaze that was still trained on you.

“Let me at least buy you a drink,” he offered, a smirk back on his face as he took in your appearance.

“I’m good,” you said, not even looking over at him.

Jack wasn’t used to rejection. Especially not from someone who looked as good as you did tonight. He leaned against the bar, watching as you waved the bartender down without sparing him another glance.

“Come on, one drink,” he tried again, flashing a grin he was sure had worked a thousand times before. “Consider it an apology for the whole ‘no pictures’ thing.”

You let out a dry chuckle, finally looking at him. “You think I care that you’re a hockey player?”

His smirk faltered, just for a second. “I mean… most people do.”

“Well, I’m not most people.”

His friend from earlier—who you now recognized as Dawson Mercer—let out another loud laugh. “Man, she’s really not into you.”

Jack shot him a glare before turning his attention back to you. “So, you’re a hockey fan then?”

You shrugged, “Something like that.”

“Let me guess—Rangers fan?”

You scoffed. “Please. I have standards.”

Jack’s brows shot up in amusement. “Oh, so you do like the Devils.”

“I didn’t say that either.”

He grinned, intrigued. “You’re kind of killing me here, sweetheart.”

“That’s unfortunate,” you deadpanned.

Dawson practically doubled over laughing, and even the bartender gave a knowing smirk as they passed your drink over. You grabbed it, giving Jack one last look.

“Listen,” you said, tilting your head slightly. “I get it. You’re used to girls fawning over you. But I’m just here to drink with my friends. So… enjoy the rest of your night, Jacky.”

You didn’t wait for a response, turning on your heel and heading back to your table. Your friends were already whispering excitedly, having watched the exchange unfold.

“Oh my God, you just walked away from Jack Hughes,” Rachel whisper-yelled.

“Yeah, and?” You plopped back down, taking a sip of your drink.

“And he’s, like, Jack Hughes!”

You rolled your eyes. “Exactly. That’s the problem.”

From across the bar, you felt a pair of eyes still on you. You didn’t have to look to know it was Jack.

“I have to have her,” Jack said to Dawson, his eyes not leaving you even as you walked back to your friends.

“I feel like I just witnessed history,” Dawson said grinning.

“What’d I miss?” Luke asked, as he came back from the bathroom.

“Jack turned all of his charm on this girl and she literally gave him the biggest look of disgust I have ever seen,” Dawson told him gleefully while Jack rolled his eyes.

“Where is she so I can shake her hand?” Luke joked, knowing way too well how often that reaction was not the case.

Luke scanned the bar, his eyes landing on your table. "Wait, I know her. That's Y/N. She works for the team's PR department."

Jack's head whipped around to face Luke. "What? How do you know that?"

"She helped me set up my social media accounts when I first got signed," Luke explained. "She's actually pretty cool. Knows her hockey too. She’s works with the executives mostly, so I doubt you would have ran into her."

Jack's interest piqued even further. A girl who worked for the team, knew hockey, and wasn't impressed by him? This was a challenge he couldn't resist.

"I'm going over there," Jack announced, straightening his shirt.

Dawson grabbed his arm. "Dude, she clearly doesn't want to talk to you. Let it go."

But Jack shrugged him off, already making his way towards your table with Luke tailing behind. Your friends noticed him approaching before you did, their eyes widening and you turned your head to see what they were looking at. You grinned widely, eyes lighting up and Jack relaxed. Game over, he thought.

“Luke!” You exclaimed, rising to greet him. The younger Hughes brother’s eyes widened as you hugged him, feeling the burn of Jack’s glare in his skin. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too, y/n,” he said warmly grinning down at you.

“Buy me a drink?” You asked, ignoring Jack completely. Luke’s eyes filled with amusement, catching on to what you were playing at and nodded, beckoning for you to follow him.

“You know this is going to make him crazy,” Luke warned as you made it back to the bar. Jack stayed behind, charming your friends to recover his ego.

“I doubt it, I’ve never even seen him before tonight,” you waved your hand dismissing the idea.

“This is Dawson by the way,” Luke introduced and you gave him a smile.

“Nice to meet you, y/n,” Dawson said. “Sorry I didn’t recognize you, I didn’t know you worked for the Devils.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “Generally my job is PR projects for leadership in the org. I only met Luke because I was covering for Madison when she was out.”

You chatted with Luke and Dawson a while longer before you decided to call it a night. Bidding both the guys goodbye you headed outside, unaware of someone following behind you.

“Not going to say goodbye?” Jack called out, his lips turned up as your eyes settled on his face.

“I’ve said it to the people who need to hear it,” you replied, looking down at your Uber app. Jack walked closer to you and you braced for whateve ridiculous thing he was going to say next.

“You know I’m enjoying the hard to get act you’re playing,” he said and you snorted. “It’s just going to make me want you more babe.”

A car pulled up next to you and you closed the distance between you and Jack, your lips near his ear.

“Too bad we can’t always get what we want,” you purred before pulling away and stepping into the car.

—---------------------------------------------------

“Hey lover boy, heard you got your ego knocked down a couple of pegs this weekend,” Nico chirped to Jack as he entered the locker room.

Jack rolled his eyes, trying to play it cool. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh come on," Jesper chimed in with a grin. "Word travels fast. Heard you got completely shut down by some girl at the bar on Thursday."

"She didn't shut me down," Jack protested, but his teammates' laughter told him they weren't buying it. "Whatever, it's not a big deal."

But it was a big deal to Jack. He couldn't stop thinking about you all weekend - your sharp wit, the way you'd completely dismissed him, how good you looked in that outfit. It was driving him crazy.

As the team filed out onto the ice for practice, Jack hung back for a moment, catching Luke's arm.

"Hey, that girl from the other night - Y/N. You said she works here, right?"

Luke eyed him suspiciously. “Why?”

“No reason,” he replied quickly.

“Dude haven’t you had enough?” He questioned. “She clearly isn’t interested.”

“She just doesn’t know me,” Jack complained to his brother. “She’s literally so hot, I can’t stop thinking about her.”

“I know she’s hot but she’s not going to sleep with you,” Luke said, trying to hide his laughter at his brother’s whining.

“We’ll see.”

Jack Hughes wasn’t used to losing. Especially not like this.

For the next week, he tried everything to get your attention.

Monday: You were grabbing coffee at the arena’s café when a shadow loomed over you.

“Let me guess—oat milk latte, extra shot of espresso?” Jack said, sliding into line behind you.

You turned, unimpressed. “Bold of you to assume.”

He smirked. “I like a challenge.”

You rolled your eyes and placed your order. When you went to pay, the barista waved you off.

“He already covered it,” she said, nodding toward Jack.

“Consider it a peace offering,” he added, looking far too pleased with himself.

You grabbed your drink without another word, but you heard Luke’s quiet groan from a nearby table.

“This is going to be a disaster.”

Wednesday: A massive bouquet of roses arrived at your office. The card read:

"For the only person in this building who doesn’t think I’m charming. – JH"

Your coworkers swooned. You barely glanced at them before handing the entire arrangement to the receptionist.

“Want these?” you asked.

She gasped. “Wait, seriously? These are gorgeous!”

“Knock yourself out,” you said, walking away without a second thought.

Jack, watching from down the hall, groaned.

“This girl is impossible,” he muttered.

Friday: You were in the press box during morning skate when a puck suddenly landed on the ledge in front of you.

You glanced down to see Jack grinning up at you from the ice. He tapped his stick against the boards, waiting.

You picked up the puck, reading the sharpie-scrawled message: Drinks tonight? You pick the bar.

You smirked, leaning forward just enough for him to see you… then you casually tossed the puck behind you without even reading the rest.

Jack’s jaw dropped as his teammates erupted in laughter.

“Oh man, that was brutal,” Dawson wheezed, skating up beside him.

Luke skated over next, clapping a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“Dude. Just give up.”

But Jack just grinned, eyes locked on you as you turned back to your work.

“Not a chance.”

—--------------------------------

If you were being honest with yourself, you were having fun playing this game with Jack and your opinion of him was starting to change. Yes, you still 100% believed he was a cocky player, but he was fun and he made you laugh. His company was actually enjoyable, something you learned from the fact that you now saw him at a few times each week.

The back and forth between the two of you had been going on for a couple of months, and even though Luke had been hesitant about Jack’s pursuit of you at first, he was ready to see this end.

“Hey y/n,” Luke said, knocking on your office door.

“What’s up Luke?” You asked, looking up from your computer.

“I’m hosting a party tonight for my birthday and was wondering if you wanted to come?”

“I’d love to, what time?” You asked and he told you. He mentioned that you could bring a couple of your friends, specifically Rachel, since Dawson had been talking to her recently.

Pairing a lace bodysuit with jeans, you finished curling your hair while Rachel stood next to you doing her makeup.

“So what’s the actual deal with you and Jack?” She asked and you shrugged nonchalantly.

“Nothing really, it’s like a game,” you said.

“Are you going to sleep with him?” She asked.

“Maybe,” you said. “He is hot.”

She eyes you curiously before asking her next question. “Are you into him more than in just an ‘I want to sleep with you’ way?”

You scoffed, “I barely know him like that. It’s not like we’ve ever hung out one on one.”

“Just asking, just seems like you were so anti-hockey boys and here we are.”

“We aren’t anywhere.”

She just smirked at you, not saying anything further.

Jack showed up to the party fashionably late, instantly looking for you. He was pleased when he saw you talking with your friend and some others but decided not to approach you just yet.

“Beer?” Dawson offered and he shook his head.

“I need to stay focused,” Jack said nodding at you.

“When are you going to admit this is something a little more than a game?” Dawson asked.

Jack scoffed, but his eyes never left you. "What are you talking about?"

Dawson rolled his eyes. "Come on, man. You've been chasing this girl for months. I've never seen you put this much effort into anyone before."

"That's because she's playing hard to get," Jack insisted, but even he didn't sound convinced.

"No, it's because you actually like her," Dawson countered. "And not just because she's hot. You like that she challenges you, that she doesn't fall for your usual tricks."

Jack opened his mouth to argue, but closed it again. He watched as you laughed at something someone said, your eyes crinkling at the corners. His stomach did a little flip.

"Shit," he muttered.

Dawson clapped him on the back. "There it is."

By the time you noticed Jack, you were very drunk. He was seated at a barstool chatting with some of his teammates.

“Y/n!” Nico called, waving you over. “Come hang out with us.”

You met Jack’s eyes as you came over and gave him a wink before you hugged Nico. He offered his seat but you declined, moving to where you were standing at the table with Jack at your back. He spread his legs wider and you leaned back, settling on the edge of his chair.

You felt Jack tense slightly as you settled against him, but he didn't push you away. Instead, his hand came to rest lightly on your hip, his thumb tracing small circles through the fabric of your jeans.

"So, Y/N," Nico said with a mischievous grin, "Jack here tells us you're still giving him a hard time."

You laughed, leaning back further into Jack's chest. "Oh, has he now?"

"Can you blame a guy for trying?" Jack murmured close to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze. "I suppose not. But where's the fun in making it easy?"

The guys around the table hooted and hollered, but you barely noticed. You were too focused on the way Jack's eyes had darkened, his grip on your hip tightening ever so noticeably.

Jack was quiet as you talked to his teammates, lost in thought. You were starting to hit a wall and after you yawned for a third time Jack leaned forward.

“How are you getting home?” He asked.

“Probably just call an uber,” you told him.

“Let me take you home,” he said and you nodded, giving in.

As you stepped outside into the cool night air, Jack's hand found the small of your back, guiding you towards his car. The gesture was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to his usual cocky demeanor.

"You know," you said, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you, "for someone who's supposedly trying to get me into bed, you're being awfully chivalrous right now."

Jack chuckled, opening the passenger door for you. "Maybe I'm not just trying to get you into bed anymore."

You raised an eyebrow, sliding into the seat. "Oh? And what exactly are you trying to do then, Jack Hughes?"

He closed the door and walked around to the driver's side, taking a moment before answering. "I'm not entirely sure," he admitted as he started the car. "But I think I'd like to find out."

The drive to your place was quiet, and it wasn’t long before he was pulling up to your building.

“You want to come up?” You asked, and his eyes darkened, flickering once to your lips.

“I can’t sleep with you when you’re this drunk,” he said and you smirked.

“Who said I wanted to sleep with you Jacky?” You teased. “Maybe I just like your company.”

He mumbled something under his breath as he got out of the car and followed you inside the building. You stumbled as you got out of the elevator and Jack caught you, pulling you into him.

“Careful angel,” he murmured and you felt yourself getting hot. He didn’t say anything as you opened the door to your apartment, just silently looking around, taking in your home. You watched him look around until his eyes landed back on you.

Taking a step forward and his breath hitched as your hands came to rest on his shoulders.

“Y/n,” he warned, clearly fighting some kind of internal battle with himself.

“Just a taste,” you whispered before pressing your lips against his.

Jack's resolve crumbled the moment your lips touched his. His hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him as he deepened the kiss. You tasted like the sweet cocktails you'd been drinking all night, and he couldn't get enough.

For a moment, all the playful banter and teasing melted away. It was just you and Jack, lost in each other's embrace.

But as quickly as it started, Jack pulled away, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath.

"We shouldn't," he murmured, though his grip on your waist didn't loosen.

You pouted, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. "Why not?"

"Because," Jack said, finally taking a step back. "I want to do this right."

You blinked, surprised. "What do you mean?"

Jack ran a hand through his hair before stepping back, “You are very drunk and I want our first time to be without any doubts that we both want it.”

You tilted your head, analyzing his answer before nodding. “Okay. I still want you to stay.”

“You are so much nicer when you’re drunk,” Jack said as you both walked towards your room.

“I know,” you said with a small smile. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

You stepped into the bathroom, deciding to take a quick shower before changing into a pj set you had. It left little to the imagination so Jack’s eyes widened when you came back out. He was laying in your bed, scrolling through his phone as you climbed in next to him.

“You are making this very difficult for me,” he complained, adjusting himself under the covers.

“I don’t kow what you’re talking about,” you said innocently. You laid your head on his chest and his arm moved to where he could hold you against him.

“I knew you would fall for my charm,” Jack said, shooting you a cocky smile.

You scoffed, “I haven’t slept with you yet buddy, I’m merely just using you for warmth.”

“Mmhmm,” he hummed, kissing your forehead before closing his eyes.

You woke up the next morning on your side with Jack pressed up behind you. One arm was wrapped snugly around your waist, like he was scared you were going to run away. You turned around and admired his sleeping form next to you.

This whole thing between you was starting to get complicated. What started as something fun was slowly turning into something more for you and you really didn’t know how to feel about it.

Jack stirred, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours.

“Morning,” he rasped, stretching out his limbs.

“Hi,” you said back, moving to slide off the bed. Before you could stand up, two hand encircled your waist, pulling you back.

“FIve more minutes,” he pleaded, enjoying the warmth from your body against his.

“I need to go to the Farmer’s Market before it gets crowded,” you told him. “So you need to go.”

“Let me come with,” he said and you looked at him surprised.

“You want to come to the Farmers’ Market with me?”

He shrugged, “I don’t have anything else to do.”

Jack wasn’t sure how he got here. One minute, he was trying (and failing) to win you over, and the next, he was carrying a tote bag full of fresh produce while you picked through a crate of peaches like this was a normal Saturday activity for the two of you.

“You’re taking this very seriously,” he noted, watching as you inspected each piece of fruit.

“I’m not about to waste five bucks on a bad peach, Hughes,” you replied, finally selecting one and dropping it into your bag.

He smirked, shifting the weight of the tote on his shoulder. “So I’m carrying all your stuff now?”

“You invited yourself,” you said breezily, moving on to the next stall. “Consider it a consequence of your actions.”

Jack just shook his head, trailing behind as you stopped at a bakery stand. You picked up a loaf of sourdough, glancing up at him.

“Do you even eat real bread, or is it all protein shakes and sad health food?”

Jack scoffed. “I eat real food. I could house that whole loaf in one sitting.”

You arched a brow. “Prove it.”

He grabbed the sourdough out of your hands and tossed some cash at the vendor. Tearing off a piece, he took a dramatic bite. “Happy?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re such a child.”

Jack grinned, nudging your shoulder with his. “And yet, you keep hanging out with me.”

You rolled your eyes, but he caught the small smile you tried to hide as you walked ahead.

Yeah. He was definitely getting somewhere.

—---------------------

The line between you and Jack was definitely blurred after that night. Something had shifted which hadn’t gone unnoticed by anyone around either of you.

“So,” Luke said, sitting next to his brother in the locker room.

“Spit it out Luke,” Jack said, giving him an annoyed look.

“You went to the farmers’ market,” Luke stated, catching the interest of a nearby Dawson. “And you did that after not even sleeping with her.”

“You didn’t sleep with her?” Dawson asked, butting in.

“She was very drunk,” Jack groaned, leaning his head back and shutting his eyes. “Not that it’s any of your guys’ business.”

“I can’t believe you went to the farmers’ market,” Dawson said. “You’re whipped.”

“It’s not like that,” Jack muttered.

“Not like that,” Luke echoed. “But you haven’t slept with anyone else since this whole thing started. A little uncharacteristic of you.”

Jack didn’t reply, just threw his towel into his brother’s face before stalking off.

His day did not get better from there. After a less than stellar game from him, he opened his phone to see an ongoing discourse on twitter. Apparently Paul Bissonnette, a TNT analyst and former NHL player, had done a deep dive on Jack’s game play, pointing out a laundry list of problems.

Twitter was split with Devils' fans tweeting angrily at Biz and Biz’s followers defending him. Honestly Jack didn’t care that much, especially because a lot of what he was saying was right, but it still didn’t feel good.

The media asked him about it after the game and he much to the annoyance of the Devils’ PR team, he let his temper get the best of him.

“I mean that guy was a professional bench warmer but what do I know?” He sounded off, which just added fuel to the fire.

You had taken the week of from work, visiting a friend in NYC while all this was going down and you didn’t envy your coworkers that had to deal with this.

While you were out for lunch the last day on your trip you ended up running into Biz as you were walking out of the restaurant. You recognized him immediately and weirdly enough it seemed like he knew who you were.

“You’re Jack Hughes girl?” He asked and you froze.

“I wouldn’t say that,” you said and he grinned.

“That’s not what Quinn told me,” he said and you shrugged.

You raised an eyebrow at Biz's comment. "Quinn Hughes? And what exactly did he tell you?"

Biz chuckled. "Just that his brother's been chasing after some girl from the Devils' PR team for months. Said it's the first time he's seen Jack actually put effort into pursuing someone."

You felt your cheeks heat up slightly. "Well, Quinn doesn't know what he's talking about. Jack and I are... it's complicated."

"Uh-huh," Biz said, clearly not buying it. "Look, I know Jack's probably not thrilled with me right now, but I wasn't trying to attack him personally. Just pointing out areas where he could improve his game."

You nodded, remembering the Twitter drama. "I get it. It's your job to analyze players. Jack will get over it once he cools down."

“I have a funny idea if you’re game?”

—-------------------------------

Jack stared down at his phone seething. Nico was watching him with an amused look on his face.

“I mean, it’s kind of funny,” he said and Jack shot him a glare.

“What’s funny?” Luke asked, coming out of the showers. He leaned over Jack’s shoulder to see what he was looking at on his phone. It was a quote tweet to the press interview when he had chirped Biz.

@.biznasty: Damn, that hurts Jack; at least I have a pretty girl to make me feel better.

Along with his tweet was a selfie of you and Biz attached.

Luke barked out a laugh. “Oh my god, that’s hilarious.”

“I don’t think it’s funny,” Jack said coldly. Nico laughed it off but Luke could tell something was off by his brother’s tone.

As Jack stared at the photo of you and Biz, a mix of emotions swirled in his chest - anger, jealousy, and a hint of hurt he wasn't quite ready to acknowledge.

"Come on, man," Luke said, sensing his brother's mood. "You know Y/N is just messing with you. It's what you two do."

Jack locked his phone, shoving it in his bag. "Yeah, well, maybe I'm tired of playing games."

Nico and Luke exchanged a look as Jack stormed out of the locker room.

Meanwhile, you were on your way back to Newark, feeling a little guilty about the stunt with Biz. You hadn't expected it to blow up quite like it did. Sure enough a text from Luke confirmed what you were feeling.

LH: just a heads up, Jack is in a mood about the Biz picture.

Y/N: really? It was just a joke?

LH: I know and it was funny. But he’s being a little sensitive.

You asked Luke to send you their address, deciding to make a stop on the way home. He answered the door when you got there, an amused look on his face.

“The princess is in his room,” he said, motioning to what you assumed was Jack’s door.

Jack had just gotten out of the shower when you pushed his door open, his white towel wrapped snuggly around his waist.

“What are you doing here?” He asked sharply. You rolled your eyes at his tone.

"Heard you were throwing a tantrum," you said, leaning against the doorframe. "Thought I'd come see what all the fuss was about."

Jack's jaw clenched as he turned away from you, rummaging through his dresser. "I'm not throwing a tantrum. You can go back to hanging out with your new buddy Biz."

You sighed, moving further into the room. "Jack, come on. It was just a joke. You know there's nothing going on between me and Biz."

He didn't respond, just continued rummaging through his drawers with more force than necessary.

"Hey," you said softly, placing a hand on his bare shoulder. He tensed under your touch but didn't pull away. "Talk to me. What's really bothering you?"

Jack finally turned to face you, his expression a mix of frustration and vulnerability. "I had a bad game and then I’m getting chirped in the media, and then I log on to see the girl I’m into is hanging out with someone else.”

Your eyes softened as you looked at Jack. "The girl you're into, huh?"

He ran a hand through his damp hair, looking slightly flustered. "I mean... yeah. Isn't it obvious by now?"

You stepped closer, your hand moving from his shoulder to rest on his chest. "Maybe. But it's nice to hear you say it."

Jack's arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him. "I'm tired of playing games, y/n. I want you. For real."

Your breath hitched at the intensity in his eyes. "What happened to the cocky player who was just trying to get me into bed?"

He shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips. "That guy realized he actually likes spending time with you, farmers market and all."

You couldn't help but laugh. "Even when I'm giving you a hard time?"

“Especially then,” he said, bringing his lips down to yours. The kiss started soft but soon escalated, your hands tangling in his hair, tugging softly. “I’m still mad at you though.”

“I can think of a few ways to make it up to you,” you murmured against his lips.

#nhl imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine

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heart4harris · 1 day ago

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My tcc takes.

Making fun of victims makes you look like a jackass.

This one isn’t said ENOUGH!!! I hate when people make fun of Kelly Flemings chin as if her and Dylan weren’t almost identical, or calling a victim ugly. People making fun of Isaiah Shoels, Kyle Velasquez, and William Sanders NEED to knock it off. It’s not funny, it’s not cute.

Being those “TMD” “TND” or “TJD” people is corny as fuck.

It pisses me off because WHY do YOU care so much that THEY’RE black? Seems like you’re obsessed.

Saying you’re the biggest fan of someone means nothing to me.

So what you like Lanza more than me? Not my problem. Get over it.

I DO NOT CARE IF YOU SELFSHIP!!

It is what it is. I can’t stop you from making the art or edit, so whats the point in trying?

Comparing cases is disrespectful. All the people in the cases died or almost died. They’re all EQUALLY as bad as the next, people lost their lives and that k;d shit is corny.

People shouldn’t refer to victims as “kills” or apart of the perps “kill count”

They have names, they aren’t animals or just another body.

SAYING “-13” OR “-26” IS CORNYYYYYY!!!!! The perps lost their lives as well, include them too. It’s seriously a problem. Even if they didn’t, they already killed themselves by getting put in jail. You have no life, no free will, no nothing. You’re owned by the state/country and have no life. Your life is in their hands.

I feel like this one needs to be said, WHO CARES IF DAPHNE IS DATING ARTYOM OR NOT?

If you don’t believe it, don’t. She knows what the truth is, she knows who she’s dating. Even if she is lying, don’t you think it would be insane for her to be the only one with that leaked photo? Or the letters? I get it seems too good to be true, but let her do what she wants. She’s not bothering anyone.

#tcc tumblr #tccblr #tc community #tcc fandom #tcc columbine #teeceecee #true cringe community #eric columbine #columbine 1999 #dylan columbine

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akawifeyy · 1 day ago

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REPUTATION | smau (cs55)

description: ...and in the death of her reputation, she'd never felt more alive. the story of y/n l/n, and how one scandal altered her life forever.

tropes: us against the world, reinvention, age gap (25 and 30), mv33!ex, popstar!reader

face claim: sabrina carpenter

trigger warnings: suggestive content, swearing, hate speech & misogyny

| note: currently clowning as i wait for the release of reputation (taylor's version), so i wrote a fic based on it!

comments (9103):

@ user1: diabolical coming from a man who looks like sid the sloth 🤨

@ user2: I don't listen to Y/N L/N's music, but she deserves more credit than what Max is giving her.

-> @ user3: I agree, you don't get famous from nothing. she put in a lot of work and Max is invalidating that

@ user4: no way bro is reducing her to just a pretty face when he lacks that 🗣️

@ yourusername: was i just a fool?

tagged: @ yourbffusername

comments (3742):

@ user5: We love you Y/N 🫶

@ user6: don't listen to the haters y/n we absolutely adore you

@ yourbffusername: my flawless queen 👑

@ user7: Everything Max Verstappen says about you is true, you sound like a dying whale every time you open your mouth

comment deleted by @ yourusername

Interview with Max Verstappen (2025):

After being asked about his opinion on his ex — Y/N L/N —'s newest single, Max Verstappen grew visibly agitated and attempted to change the subject. When forced to reply, he scathingly responded, "She used me as a stepping stool to reach the next level of fame, and she got what she wanted. The past is in the past, and I don't care about her anymore."

comments (29458):

@ user3: Insinuating that Y/N slept with him to become famous is repulsive, and I hope Max gets what's coming for him

-> @ user8: didn't he literally cheat on y/n?? 😭

@ user9: "I don't care about her anymore" the eyes never lie chico, we know how you really feel

@ user10: I've never been a MV33 fan and this just adds fuel to the fire.

@ user11: can someone PLEASE explain to me what's going on? I know Max and Y/N were together at one point but I got grounded and had my phone taken away for a loooong time so I don't even know anything anymore 🙂‍↔️

-> @ user8: @ popculturetea just made an amazing timeline explaining everything!

@ yourusername's Private Instagram Story

@ popculturetea's Timeline

@ f1ynlover: mama y papa, mama y papa

tagged: @ carlossainzjr, @ yourusername

comments (4852):

@ user12: I bet Y/N doesn't wanna touch another F1 driver with a ten foot pole, but this pairing would absolutely devour 😜

-> @ user8: he would 100% match her freak

@ yourusername: i do love chili peppers 🌶️

@ yourusername: we're balling not bawling

tagged: @ yourproducer, @ carlossainzjr

comments (3832):

@ user13: OMG

@ yourproducer: Next big song is on the way!

@ user14: Carlos Sainz tagged is crazyyyy

-> @ user4: he's definitely the mystery man 🫣

Text messages between Carlos and Y/N (2025):

@ grillthegrid: The difference between Max Verstappen (c. 2022) and Max Verstappen (c. 2025). Crazy

tagged: @ f1, @ maxverstappen

comments (49325):

@ user15: NOT THE OFFICIAL GRILL THE GRID ACC PIPING IN ON THIS DRAMA

-> @ user16: it's the loss of y/n effect 🤗

@ user17: Cheating on Y/N will do that to you lmaoo

@ user18: Sid the sloth ahh 🥱🥱

@ carlossainzjr: F1 drivers were given a second chance, and I wasn't going to screw it up. Más que feliz de ser su pimiento picante para siempre. Happy 2 months, mi amor.

(More than happy to be her spicy pepper forever.)

tagged: @ yourusername

comments (7392):

@ yourusername: you're so much better <3

@ user1: soooo cute 🥲🥰

@ user19: Spicy pepper and firecracker, a dream made in heaven

-> @ user20: They're perfect for each other omg 🥹

─── ୨୧ ─── THE END ─── ୨୧ ───

#f1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 #cs55 #cs55 x reader #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #formula one #f1 fic #f1 writer #f1 fanfic #f1 smau

144 notes · View notes

mrkeatingsblazer · 17 hours ago

Text

defending the characters does equal loving the fandom are you okay? Bens in the wilderness with a bunch of teenagers who don’t listen to him. We see that play out the second Lara Lee asks him what he’s gonna do about it when she goes on the plane. ITS A PLOT POINT. It’s literally why Jackie dies; she signifies change in leadership and unlawfulness. Coach Ben being an adult does not matter to the girls anymore, it’s why mitsy was so okay with drugging him because in her mind he’s still holding onto civilised laws and that’s not an excuse for rape even if she thinks he wants her. That’s an excuse I see so much and it’s disgusting. And on mitsy and Ben; that girl took off his leg without barely thinking and has shown multiple other signs of mental illness that from someone in the show could look like her potentially snapping and becoming dangerous.

It’s a tactic many victims use; easing their oppressor into a state of comfort because he doesn’t know how this crazy girl is gonna react. You saying that he shouldn’t be around kids is so strange. Like what do you think he’s a pdfile?

Saying that what happened at doomcoming “wasn’t the best” is why I hate you fans, doing exactly what I said by pushing everything about the boys away or seeing it as less important. It being a women show shouldn’t mean the fandom should become a bunch of femcels who hate the guys. Shauna jerks off to a picture of her daughter and her boyfriend? Completely fine who cares Shauna is complex. Travis, a teenage boy in the 90s, saying something sexist in the first season- fuck him, im thankful he dies, doesn’t deserve anything. The same can be said with Ben who the fandom villainies’ because of his age. AGE DOESNT MATTER IN THE WILDERNESS. He has no power. The fact you think that what he’s done is so bad compared to the rest of the girls is mad. He has to die? But not the group eating people? (love those little freaks but point still stands).

Also telling me not to talk about my opinions on the show is so weird. Public platform, public opinions. You also attack a character you are gonna get fans of that character on your back. If you don’t want “debates” don’t post hate posts.

“omg poor coach ben someone save him from misty” i hope he meets his demise at her hands actually

221 notes · View notes

yvaineseleneposts · 2 days ago

Text

Bed Chem

Requested: no

A/N: based on Bed Chem by Sabrina Carpenter. This came to me on a drive home.

Pairing: Nico Hischier x reader

Words: around 1700

Warning(s): mentions of sex, swearing

It was an ordinary night at the rink. Nico Hischier had just finished a long practice session with the Devils, sweat dripping down his forehead as he made his way to the locker room. His teammates were busy joking around, talking about dinner plans, but Nico was distracted. He had been thinking about her ever since they met. It was the first time in a while that someone had caught his attention so completely.

He remembered that day clearly: the bright sunlight filtering through the windows as he hurried to his car, late for an interview with the media team. But then, there she was, standing outside the arena, her sheer dress billowing slightly in the wind. She was on the phone, clearly distracted by something. And yet, when she noticed him, her eyes caught his, and for a moment, time seemed to slow.

She was stunning—her smile radiant as she stepped forward. “You’re Nico, right?”

He nodded, still caught off guard by the whole situation.

“I’m Y/n,” she had said, “I’m a huge fan of yours. Mind if I take a quick picture?”

Nico, ever the polite guy, agreed. She snapped a few photos, but there was an undeniable spark between them, something more than just a fan meeting a player.

Before she walked away, she handed him her number with a sly grin. "In case you ever want to chat."

That was it. The brief encounter that had his heart racing long after it ended.

The next morning, as Nico sat in his flat sipping coffee. He thought about shooting her a text, not really knowing what to say to her without making it weird. So he texted her:

“Hey, I know this might be weird, but you seem cool. Let’s talk sometime :) Hope I didn’t look too sweaty yesterday haha”

A few moments later, her response popped up:

“Definitely! Lol, no worries, you looked great. :)” Nico couldn't help but smile.

They texted back and forth, talking about everything and nothing in particular. She was funny, smart, and made him feel at ease in a way that was rare for him. It wasn’t long before he found himself thinking about her all the time. He liked the way she made him laugh, how she didn’t treat him like a celebrity but as just Nico, the guy who was just as awkward about his feelings as anyone else.

___

Weeks passed, and every time Nico saw Y/n, it felt like something was pulling them closer. They met for coffee, for casual walks through the city, and sometimes just sat in his flat, talking for hours about random things. He admired her confidence, the way she looked at him with those wide, bright eyes that never seemed to shy away. There was something magnetic about her, something that kept him coming back for more.

And then, one night, everything changed. It was late, and Nico had just come back from an away game. He was tired but couldn't stop thinking about Y/n, who had just messaged him:

“Hey, are you free next week? I bet we'd have really good bed chem.”

He chuckled to himself, reading it over again. She was bold, that was for sure. But he couldn’t ignore the way his heart skipped a beat when he saw those words.

“Bed chem? What do you mean by that?” he replied, a smirk playing on his lips.

She didn't answer immediately. Nico put his phone down and started to get ready for bed, when suddenly, another message popped up:

“You know what I mean. Don’t pretend you don’t feel it too. ;)”

Nico’s breath caught in his chest. Was it possible she was as into this as he was? There was no way it was all just in his head, right?

___

The next time they saw each other, it was at a small dinner party with a few friends. Nico had been looking for an excuse to get closer to Y/n, and now that he was here, he could barely concentrate on anything else. She walked into the room, wearing a simple yet elegant outfit, and Nico's gaze immediately landed on her. The way she smiled when she caught him staring sent a rush through him. His friends had been going on and on about the latest game, but Nico’s mind was elsewhere.

Y/n was talking with one of his teammates, laughing at something, her eyes sparkling. Nico found himself drawn to her, even across the room. When their eyes met, she flashed him that smile again, the one that made his heart skip. He couldn’t help himself. He excused himself from the conversation he was in and made his way over to her.

“Hey,” he said softly, leaning against the wall beside her.

“Hey you,” she replied, her voice a little breathless. “What’s up?”

“Not much,” he said, looking into her eyes. “Just trying to figure out how to ask you out without sounding like a total dork.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Well, you’re definitely not failing so far.”

Nico chuckled, relaxing a little. “I don’t know, I think I might be. Want to grab dinner next week?” He stepped even closer to her, if that was even possible.

Her eyes twinkled. “I’d love to.” His heart pounded in his chest as he leaned in to kiss her. It was soft at first, tentative, but quickly deepened into something more intense. There was no denying it—what they had was electric.

___

The days leading up to their dinner date were filled with anticipation. Nico found himself constantly thinking about her, wondering what it would be like to finally spend more time together, alone. It was obvious that there was something between them, but he couldn’t help but feel the anxiety of not knowing where it would go.

The night of their dinner, Nico met her at a small, cozy restaurant in the city. She looked incredible in a little black dress that hugged her figure perfectly, and the way she smiled when she saw him made his heart race all over again.

As they sat down, the conversation flowed easily, just like it always had. They talked about everything—his latest games, her work, her favourite books. But underneath the casual chatter, Nico felt something more building between them. It wasn’t just attraction; it was something deeper, something that felt like it had always been there, waiting to surface.

“So,” Y/n said, taking a sip of her wine and eyeing him playfully. “How’s the whole ‘bed chem’ idea working out for you?”

Nico laughed, his cheeks reddening slightly. “Well, I’m starting to think there might be something to it.”

Y/n smiled, leaning closer. “I’m glad you’re finally catching on.”

___

A few weeks later, things were still progressing between them. They’d spent more time together, the chemistry undeniable. Nico couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so drawn to someone. They were in sync in a way he hadn’t expected, and the longer they spent together, the harder it became to imagine his life without her.

One evening, after a long practice, Nico invited Y/n over to his flat to relax. He wasn’t sure why, but something about tonight felt different. There was an electricity in the air, a tension that neither of them had acknowledged before.

As Y/n entered his flat, she smiled at him. “Hey, I brought wine. Figured we could make a night of it.”

“Sounds perfect,” Nico said, his voice low.

They sat down on the couch, the conversation easy, but Nico couldn’t stop thinking about how close she was. Her perfume filled the air, her hand just inches from his. His pulse quickened as he finally broke the silence.

“Y/n… I’ve been thinking about this—about us.”

She turned to face him, her eyes intense and curious. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. “I think we’ve got something real here. Something different. And I don’t want to just keep playing around.”

Y/n smiled softly, her fingers brushing his. “I think we’ve been dancing around this long enough, Nico. I want this too.”

Without another word, Nico leaned in, kissing her gently at first, as if testing the waters. But soon, it deepened—passionate, urgent. All the unspoken tension between them spilled out in that kiss. It was a different kiss than the one they shared in the restaurant, this one felt more charged with sexual tension.

“Do you want to move this to the bedroom?” Nico asked her as he pulled away from her lips before attaching his to her neck.

She couldn’t help but gasp at the feeling. “Yes, please.” She breathed out. Nico quickly picked her up and made his way to his bedroom. He took off his shirt as soon as they entered the room. “Fuck, you’re hot.” Is all she managed to get out.

“Can I go down on you first, I really want to taste you.” He looked at her, his eyes darkening as he made his way to his bed.

“I have a better idea. Have you ever tried this one?”

___

The next week, Nico couldn’t help but laugh as he read through a text message from Y/n:

“I bet the thermostat’s set at six-nine now, huh?”

He smiled, typing back: “It’s a little warmer than that, but I think the bed chem is off the charts.”

Her reply came quickly: “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

Nico’s heart swelled. She wasn’t just someone he had chemistry with—she was someone he couldn’t imagine being without. And as they lay together, tangled in the sheets, Nico knew that this was only the beginning of something truly incredible.

#nico hischier blurb #nico hischier fanfic #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier smut #nico fanfic #nico smut #nh13 #nj devils #new jersey devils #devils hockey #nhl nico #nhl fanfiction #nhl players

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wakasaswifee · 3 days ago

Text

GG, NO REᶻ 𝘇 𐰁

(good game, no rematch)

Synopsis: Sershiro Nagi, one of japan's top streamers; who dominates the gaming world with his effortless skills. When an underground content creator challenges him to a 1v1 after he dismisses casual players, their fans go wild. The match ends with an unexpected twist, and what starts as an online rivalry turns into a chaotic, relationship.

pairing: Seishiro nagi x F!reader | Smau & writing

content warning: I try to be funny (more cringe than funny), dry humour, crack, angst (if you squint), ooc character, nagi is sassy?, spicy but not smut (eventually), streamers - most of them, swearing, rude jokes

ʚɞ good game

Nagi clicked a button on his keyboard, starting up his stream. The first 20 minutes were just him talking and answering questions until someone finally asked the big question.

—Reply to Y/N Gamez’s video—

Not even a second later, all the messages in the chat were about it.

—Yeah! What were the tweets about?—

—You can’t just take that disrespect!—

—1v1 her!—

Nagi sighed, running a hand through his hair. He had already watched the clip and responded on Twitter—just not on stream.

"Alright, so what's happening is, two hours from now, the other streamer, Y/N, I think her name is—she’s going to come on, and we’ll 1v1 each other in COD. It'll be a private game."

Messages flooded the chat once again.

"Don’t worry, guys, I’m not stressed. We all know who’s gonna win."

You joined Nagi’s stream after he sent you an invite.

Nagi was talking about the game rules and chatting with his viewers.

You, on the other hand—your hands were trembling. Not because you were nervous, but because, for one, over a million people would be watching, and if you messed up, it’d be the same as a public execution.

—C’mon, lock TF in.—

You laughed when you saw Shidou’s message.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

The game was intense. It was best out of three. You won the first round, giving you a confidence boost, but that came crashing down when Nagi won the second like it was nothing, saying the first one was just a warm-up.

God, his cockiness pissed you off.

The third game was tense and probably the longest. Both of you had gone completely silent—only the clicks of your controllers and keyboards could be heard.

The game ended with you victorious.

You let out the deepest breath, realizing you hadn’t been breathing properly for the past 20 minutes.

“GG.”

Nagi was silent for a moment before letting out a quiet, "gg."

"Rematch?" he asked.

"Nah, not now."

You fell back in your chair, wiping your palms on the sides of your biker shorts. It felt like you had just run a marathon. The win was sweet, but bringing someone down a notch or two was even sweeter.

You pushed your hair back as Nagi cleared his throat, announcing to his chat that you had won. What was really annoying was that he didn’t sound mad. Not one bit.

You thanked him for having you, said your goodbyes, and logged off your PC. Pulling out your phone to see messages from ryu

You tossed your phone onto the wireless charger and plopped onto your bed. Darkness covered your vision, and you were out cold.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Groaning, you woke up to the sound of your phone buzzing. Grabbing it off the nightstand, you saw over 100+ notifications—some from Sae, some from shidou and.. twitter??

series masterlist: ʚɞ

A/n: this came out later than expected but hopefully it formatted correctly and doesn't fuck me over after I post it. I giggled while making this ><

Next: 03

TAGLIST: @syarc0re @sunnydays25 @x3nafix @lilwx @tired-child00 (open)

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totalswag · 5 hours ago

Note

Hi, Hope you are doing well ! :)

Can you do a famous #singer!reader where she just broke up with someone other minor celebrity that was using her 6 months ago. Another male famous celebrity comes to her concert, wanting to check her out and ends up dating her ? (The famous celebrity could be Drew Starkey, Austin Butler,etc.)

locking eyes for the first time ⎯ DREW STARKEY!

authors note thank you for giving me this request. this was so much fun to write. i'm using feather by sabrina carpenter for the "revenge song." request are open again.

taglist ✎ ̼ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set to go.

masterlist

summary after getting heartbroken by a guy you were talking to six months later you perform at your sold out show and meet drew starkey for the first time.

warning(s) betrayal, breakup, cursing, music, and dating drew starkey.

Six months ago.

You've been talking to this guy⎯he's been the spotlight for quite some time. You found out he was using you for more "fame" and recognition connections. This shattered your heart but confronted him about it⎯he denied it first then admitted at the very end before you kicked him out your house.

His dad is a producer in the music industry. You met at an after party one night and hit it off. He made you fall for him as if he casted a spell on you. He knew what he was doing the entire five months you were together.

"So all of this was a lie, Adam?" You ask, crossing your hands over your chest in disbelief⎯staring at him like he was trash sitting in front of you.

Adam runs his hands down his thighs, sighing, "Look, Y/N, I don't know where you got that information," he pauses looking around, "It's not true," his voice trying to come off convincing.

You scoff, sarcastically nodding, "oh okay, so, Josh, you, and the rest of the guys weren't hanging out and you didn't say you've been using me?" your voice raises, emphasizing using.

"Who told you that?" He questions you in an almost panicked tone. The look on his face said it all: he'd been caught.

You nod, frustrated. "doesn't matter, is it true you've been using me?" Your voice rises, pointing at yourself.

"Yup," was all he could say.

You huff, "Dude, fuck you," chuckle, "Get out of my face and leave my house," and motion to the front door.

As the months continued to pass, you focused on yourself, surrounded yourself who those who bring you comfort, wrote music to let it all out on pen. You began to feel like yourself again.

Recently came out with a single for your music. This song is based on your experience with Adam. Let's be honest, he tried coming back with all these apologies to come back. You weren't having it.

You're on tour performing your new album and singing one of your popular songs⎯it's about what happened between Adam and you. Everyone knew about the breakup after they saw Adam with a new girl two weeks after.

The first show will be held at the Inglewood Forum. Tonight, your good friends are coming to support you. Madelyn, one of your good friends, will be joining with a few of her Outer Banks co-stars. You were taken aback by how many people were coming from your inner circle.

Madelyn mentioned one of her co stars, Drew Starkey, wanted to come see you perform after listening to your music. You've heard about him⎯good things.

After the show was over, you thanked your fans for coming out for the first show of tour, and cannot wait for the upcoming shows.

"Y/N, you did fantastic out there," Maddie grinned as you turned the corner where everyone else was waiting.

"Thank you, mama; I'm glad you guys came to watch," you grin, moving away from Maddie and indicating to the rest of the cast. Drew Starkey stood out to you the most.

Everyone is having discussions while showering and changing. When you emerge feeling refreshed and clean, you approach Drew and introduce yourself.

"You're Drew right?" You ask him abruptly, "My name is Y/N," with your hand out.

Drew turns around, amused to see you. "Nice to meet you, Y/N. My name is Drew," he smiles, gently shaking your hand, "and you did an amazing job tonight."

Drew and you get to talking for a bit until you exchanged socials and numbers. You two began hanging out in private⎯getting to know one another. Learned so much about him and grew to form feelings for him⎯he felt the same way.

Two months later, Drew and you are happily together. Never felt this way about someone in a long time. Feels like he was sent to you for a reason. When you soft launched your relationship to the media, fans were nuts over it⎯even Adam.

Adam: so you're dating someone?

Y/N: and why do you care if you used me? goodbye.

Blocked.

⎯⎯ my taglist! 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line across your name that means i couldn't find your account

@rosezza @chenslucy @whorelaud @rafeyslamb @mymultiveres @runningfrom2am @drewsephrry @drewizz @diqldrunks @starkeyvhs @percysley @francislovergirl @sukuna-wafiu @skyslowalking @kneelarmhstrung @inthelibrarybtw @lilumz-blog @lovingsturniolo @xoxosblogsblog @darkacademictrash @claudiamoscatoo @starkeysturniolo @ratgirlcunt @eddxemxnson @rafespreciosa @yanna2coolz @raewontgoaway @definitelynotdomanique @isabellaxlilah @inlovewrafe @minyoon23 @stevesxwhore @skywalker0809 @yesshewrites1 @acidfeens @stxrzyn @sfotiegiuls @babypoguelife @dolletebun @stoned-writer @drewstxrky @drewwhor @my-name-is-baby @thesunflowersociety @kiiyomei @pwertiies @6r4cie @ifwfratboychris @sjmalfoy19 @outerbanksloverp4l

132 notes · View notes

valiwrites · 6 hours ago

Text

alluring ✧.* daniel ricciardo

: ̗̀➛ pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!kalogeras!reader : ̗̀➛ warnings: age gap; reader is 25, daniel is 35, hate comments, gosspi accounts : ̗̀➛ smau

: ̗̀➛ summary: she’s the oldest kalogeras, and he’s a former f1 driver. when fans find out, they completely break the internet.

yourusername ✔︎

liked by elianakalogeras, noahrisling, danielricciardo, demitrakalogeras, sundaykalogeras and 1.3m others

yourusername editing the new video for y'all 😘

view all comments

user1 in y/n we trust ☺️

user2 i still don't know who's the oldest

user3 y/n is the oldest she's 25 then sunday she's 21 then demitra she's 18 and then eliana she's 17

user4 what's y/n's hair type??

user5 i'd say 3a or 3b

user6 i might be crazy...but is that daniel ricciardo in the likes??

user7 i thought it was a glitch!! omg he actually liked her post

elianakalogeras send me that picture pleaseee

yourusername ofc that's all u ask for 🙄

yourusername ✔︎

liked by yourbff, demitrakalogeras, danielricciardo, chrissturniolo and 3.2m others

yourusername life lately

view all comments

user1 she has a bf?? oh ma gawd will he be in the next vid??

user2 that would be epic but i doubt it

elianakalogeras just so y'all know that man could be her father 🙂

yourusername ELI!! STOP IT!

user3 lmao she's into older guys?? i get it i get it

user4 who is it please tell us!!

user5 do you guys think it's daniel??

user6 nah but he is suspiciously liking her posts 🤔

user7 he could just be a fan like us

user8 he's 35 i doubt he watches four girls on youtube for fun

user9 i put my bet that its daniel

kalogeras_news

liked by 64k users

kalogeras_news y/n kalogera accidentally shared faceless pics with her new mystery boyfriend—probably meant for her ‘only friends’ or private account! the photos were up for just a minute before getting deleted, but over 4k people already saw them. still no word on who the guy is…

view all comments

user1 it’s gotta be daniel, he’s always liking her stuff

user2 nah, i’m not convinced it’s him, could be someone else

user3 wait, daniel ricciardo? i can totally see it tho

user4 but like, why would she post it if she didn’t want anyone to know?

user5 that's why its called an 'accidental post' sherlock 🙄

user6 i lowkey thought it was a random dude but the likes make it suspicious

user7 i bet it’s someone from her friend circle, not him tho

user8 people are saying daniel because of the likes, but what if it's a whole different person?

user9 honestly, the way daniel likes all her posts, it’s gotta be him

user8 nah i don't think so. i mean she liked a lot of pedri's posts before and they aren't dating

user10 maybe she just didn’t want to make it public yet, idk

user11 either way, i wanna know who he is!

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, sundaykalogeras, noahrisling, elianakalogeras, demitrakalogeras and 2.3m others

yourusername i ain't saying anything 😤

view all comments

user1 yo that tattoo looks like daniel’s, am i tripping?

user2 that leg tattoo is too recognizable, c’mon now

user3 if that’s not daniel, i’ll eat my hat

user4 a lot of people have tattoos like that tho…

user5 okay but you look fire in these photos, y/n

user6 y/n really out here serving looks

user7 you look so good, forget the tattoo, we need more of these pics

demitrakalogeras gurl is that my bag??

yourusername yes? i'm the oldest i can take anything i want

user8 not sure why people are acting like daniel would ever date her, lmao

user9 if you’re gonna hate, at least make it creative. this is weak

yourusername

liked by elianakalogeras, demitrakalogeras, yourbff, danielricciardo and 3.5m others

yourusername i guess i do like older men

user1 i knew it was him! y'all look so cute together

user2 called it!! i knew daniel was the one she was talking about

user3 yoooo i was right all along, it was him! love this for you guys

user4 she’s 25, he’s 35… kinda creepy, no?

user5 yeah, it’s kinda weird. i’m not sure how i feel about it

user6 i mean, age gaps like this are more common than we think. not a big deal

user7 idk, i feel like people make a bigger deal out of age gaps than they need to

user8 10 years difference is wild, but okay

user11 i love you y/n, but i’m not feeling daniel. he’s just too old for you, girl

user12 honestly, why does it matter how you feel about it if she’s happy? let her live her life

kolagerascompalations ⤑ y/n and daniel being the best couple for 2 minutes straight

y/n stood next to eliana on the ice, talking to the camera while noah struggled to keep his balance on his skates, holding the camera steady. y/n turned her head to see daniel sitting on the bench, scrolling through his phone with a coffee in his hand. she skated away from the camera, and it followed her as she went to hug daniel. eliana let out a soft “aww,” while demitra chimed in with a playful “eww.”

---

while everyone’s getting ready for the video, daniel hums a random song, and y/n immediately joins in, singing the lyrics out loud. eliana and sunday give them weird looks, but daniel and y/n just smile at each other like no one else is around. “okay, that was cute,” y/n says, and daniel gives her a playful wink.

---

while filming a fun video with her sisters, demitra suddenly asks y/n, "how would you scream if you caught daniel in bed with someone else?" y/n raises her eyebrows, laughing. "that's a dramatic question!" demitra smirks, "let's recreate it!"

demitra and daniel hop into bed together, with demitra pretending to be the 'random lady.' y/n stands at the foot of the bed, taking a deep breath. "okay, here we go!"

y/n throws her hands up dramatically and lets out a loud, exaggerated scream, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" daniel bursts out laughing while demitra tries to stifle her giggles.

y/n dramatically points at demitra. "how could you betray me like this?" she fake pouts. daniel can’t stop chuckling and says, "babe i'm sorry!"

y/n finally drops the act, shaking her head with a smile. "okay, but for real, I would probably cry, not scream!" daniel stands up from the bed and leans over to her, chuckling, “I’d never do that to you, I promise!”

---

y/n and her sisters are gathered around a pottery wheel, filming a fun video. y/n glances at the camera and says, “you know, guys are really hot when they do pottery. there’s just something about it.” demitra nodded agreeing with her

just then, daniel walks into the frame, looking curious. y/n smirks at him. “what do you think? can you be a hot potter?”

without hesitation, daniel grabs a lump of clay and sits down at the wheel next to y/n, saying confidently, “watch and learn.” he starts shaping the clay, glancing over at y/n with a cheeky grin.

“okay, this is getting serious. look at you trying to prove you’re hot!” she playfully rolls her eyes, but she can’t hide her smile.

as daniel works on his pottery, y/n pretends to critique him. “that looks like a blob, daniel. I think you need more practice.” he looks over, feigning shock. “excuse me? this is art!”

eliana, watching from the side, laughs and says, “honestly, you both are cute, but i definitely wins the pottery competition!”

daniel playfully huffs, “well, I can be cute and hot at the same time, thank you very much!”

---

as daniel carries y/n, noah zooms in, teasing, “look at this simp, carrying his girl like a queen!”

---

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joeyalohadream · 21 hours ago

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💕☀️Joey's Masters of the Air Fanfiction Recommendations - Part 1 ☀️💕

Being part of a fandom that is small, yet so incredibly talented has been such a breath of fresh air for me. My reading list has been a mile long (and growing every day!) for far too long and I've recently been making more time for myself to simply read. And I wanted to take some time to shout out some of the wonderful stories and authors that I've really enjoyed lately.

All of these recommendations are Clegan stories because that is what I personally most enjoy reading. But there are other blogs and talented authors out there that write for all sorts of pairs in the fandom that I encourage people to engage with!

Adding a cut because it’s a looong post!

☀️ The Bucks in a Boat by magic_glow (not sure if the author has a tumblr!)

Explicit, Post-War, Falling in Love, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort

This is an AU based on the movie The Boys in the Boat (starring our lovely Callum). The plot follows John returning home from the war, where he still served as a B17 bomber pilot. But he enrolls in school and times are tough, so much like in the film, he tries out for the rowing team for the free room and board. Where he meets, and immediately forms a strong bond with, Gale Cleven. The author manages to keep the characterizations true, while still making them their own. They manage to incorporate almost every Mota character in a meaningful way and I especially love the sweet friendship between John and Brady in this one. It deals with the trauma of War and life and also displays a beautiful sense of camaraderie as they form as a team and learn to lean on one another. It’s wonderfully written and the world building is phenomenal. The pace is perfect and the story is compelling and John and Gale’s connection is explored with care. This is my current ‘comfort fic’ and I look forward to reading how it all develops. (And the title is so cute!)

☀️ He may be the Reason by c_goldthorn (@c-goldthorn)

Explicit, Mutual Pining, Romantic Comedy

This a modern au based on the movie Notting Hill and I recommend this one, whether or not you've seen the movie! As someone who has never seen the movie, this fic is my first experience with the plot and I'm loving every minute of it. The author infuses humor and care and love into her stories and you'll fall in love with all of the characters in this one. It's romantic and sweet and angsty and the longing is palpable. I am always patiently waiting for me. (And she has a couple of side stories in the universe posted as well that are very sweet!)

☀️ one way, or another by hart (@blixabargelds)

Explicit, Kidnapping, Strangers to Lovers, Getting Together

Okay, so literally everything that she writes is fantastic. No one quite hurts Gale like she does (lol) and it's done with care and reason and it's beautiful to read. This story though, it's hard to find words to describe it. It's a modern au where Gale orchestrates his own kidnapping (for reasons) and John is the kidnapper. A truly unique plot that is executed so perfectly that I read it twice in one weekend. It's angsty, especially as Gale's circumstances seem to get more and more bleak, yet there is this light, romantic air to it throughout because of the dynamic the author creates between John and Gale. It's FUN. And reading should be fun. It's truly a masterpiece and you'll be hooked from the first paragraph.

☀️ before you say 'cut', wait five more seconds by phlegmatic (@irregularcollapse)

Explicit, Actors AU, Workplace Relationship, Sharing a Bed

She is one of those gold standard creators in my opinion. Not just in the Mota fandom, but just in general. The way she tells a story is captivating and you get the sense that every word written is there for a specific reason. The care she puts into the craft is evident and appreciated and while I’m too shy to have ever really interacted with her, I’m such a huge fan. I could rave endlessly about her work, but onto the specific story I’m recommending! This story follows Gale, an up and coming actor that gets his 'big break' when he's cast as one of the leads in a big movie. He's starring alongside John, who is already an very established name in the industry. They fall into bed (and never really leave for long) and along the way, start to fall for each other. It is clear that this universe the author created means a lot to them. It is so authentic and focused on acting as a craft, as an artform and I learned a lot about the industry from reading this. The turmoil, buzzing under the surface, that Gale feels about his career and his future is so palpable and so vivid, I felt the anxiety along with him. Her version of John in this story is one of my favorites. He's sweet and raw and brash and caring. I really could gush forever about this one. The characterization is so impressive, they're them, but they're also hers and they're layered and real and beautiful. Honestly, just go read it. You'll understand why I rambled and still couldn't manage to say anything eloquent.

☀️ Packages and Pet Names by youllneverrecme (@recmeidareya)

Modern Setting, First Meetings, First Dates, PTSD

Any pet name you could possibly imagine John using for Gale, this author has already thought of them (and more!). In this one, Gale is a war veteran and John is his local UPS driver. I went into this one thinking it would be a silly, funny, sexy story (and it is!), but it also so much more than that. It's tender. And it's sweet and it's gentle. The way this author writes Gale is beautiful. He feels so real to me. The care and thoughtfulness that clearly went into his background as a Soldier is very important to me. And watching him open himself to new things, to John and to love? It's been a wonderful journey to be on. And John in this? Absolutely amazing. He's funny and sharp and soft and he cares about Gale so much. I am genuinely enjoying watching them fall in love in this and I can't wait to read more. Every one should be reading this.

☀️ just stay with me (baby stay with me) by bcoflove (@bcolfanfic)

Teen+, Modern Setting, NYC, First Kiss

This story is so sugary sweet. The author has created a 'Cornerstore AU', on tumblr and posted a fic on AO3 on Super Bowl Sunday and I'm a little obsessed. Gale moved to NYC and ended up in bad living situation. But he finds solace in visiting a corner store where John works. I'm in love with this version of Gale. He's unsure of himself and he's awkward and he's so sweet. And John is a force of nature. Funny and kind and in Gale's corner. I hope the author is inspired to write more for this au, because I'd read a 100,000 words of this.

☀️ Driving In Your Car (I've Never Felt Safer) by Thetrystingtree (@alienoresimagines)

GA, Mutual Pining, Boys in Love, Fluff

One of my favorite things about this authors writing is that it always feels a bit like I’m reading poetry when I read her stories. There’s a lightness, a beauty to the way she weaves words together. It’s vivid and authentic and I can clearly picture the settings and feel the emotions in her stories. This story in particular is such a sweet premise. Gale is tired and John drives him around base in the jeep to allow him to rest a bit. The other night, I was lying in bed and I wanted something calming and gentle to read before I fell asleep. So I went to this authors page and found this story to reread because I knew her words were what I was looking for in that moment. It's sweet and funny and, just like all of her stories, always the perfect bedtime story.

☀️ I Won't Go Where You Can't Follow by stars_remain2 (@stars-remain2)

Teen+, Whump, Violence, Protective John

If you know me, you know I have a weak spot for Gale whump and John being protective and this story has both in SPADES. It is a canon-divergence, looking a what if? scenario where Gale doesn't go over the wall and is punished for his escape attempt. He's beaten while John is forced to watch and it's brutal and painful, but so well written and so beautifully explored. The way the guys rally around Gale to help him get through the march, the way John cares for him, the way Gale is so self-sacrificing...it's all woven together into a fantastic story. The cliffhangers are killing me, but I'm hanging on because it's too good to stop. And I just know some supreme comfort is coming after all of the hurt.

☀️ Looking for Eight by VoluptuosPanic (@weimarweekly)

Explicit, Modern Setting, Rodeo AU, Repressed Feelings, Love

I'll embarrass myself if I go on to much about this fic because it brings me such joy. John is bronc rider and Gale is farrier. In this modern au, they met and spent a few days together on a road trip, years ago and then they reconnect at a rodeo. This story is so calming and so gentle and so tender it will melt you into goo. The authors style is so unique and beautiful. Her words flow together in a way that honestly reminds me of water running over river rocks in a stream. I swear I have a dopey smile on my face while I read each chapter (and then reread it). This fic is breathtaking and wonderful and just one of my favorites I've ever read. I've never read a sweeter version of Gale and John. They're so tender with each other I could melt into goo just thinking about them. Read it!

☀️ cicada season by Swify_Fox (@swifty-fox)

Explicit, Modern Setting, PTSD, Past Child Abuse, Therapy

Oh, Swifty. A fandom staple and a masterclass talent. This fic is no exception. A modern au where Gale is a Phd student, working on an intense thesis breeding a rare breed of frogs and John is a contractor, hired to remodel the house Gale lives in with Crank and Marge. The research that went into this is evident and impressive and makes the story that much more compelling. Gale is practically made of barbed wire in this (for good reasons I dread to learn) and he's so three-dimensional. Each chapter begins with a therapy session for Gale as he works through trauma from his childhood. It's such a well crafted story in every aspect. John and Gale's dynamic is so fun and contentious and full of potential for something more. I'm in love with this one. You can feel the care that went into this one and every word you read means something special. Rachel's mind is truly a marvel and you are missing out if you haven't given this one a go yet.

This was fun! There is so much talent in this fandom and I have been having such a good time reading. As I was making this, I kept thinking of more and more, so I'm sure I'll be making another one of these at some point. 💕

For now though, I'm taking a little break from Tumblr. I'll still be writing and reading and posting on AO3, but I need some time off from social media for personal reasons.

Just wanted to spread some love before I disappear for a little while ❤️

#buck x bucky #mota fanfic #mota fic rec #I hope every one checks out these wonderful stories

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claws-and-all · 13 hours ago

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This isn't a very eloquent list, but:

🌹 I'll start at the beginning... A beast... a grumpy beast grieving the loss of a friend (Mentor? Lover? Employee?)... already, I love him!

🌹 Then we see his High Fae form and idk about you, but all my life, lotr elves have been the epitome of beauty and etherealness. And he reminded me so much of that 🫠

🌹 Now personality wise, a broody dork with the weight of the world on his shoulders ... I'm down bad crying at the gym... I know a lot of readers like that egotistical, sassy, snarky male vibes, but I can only handle it in moderation. So this broody boy was straight up my alley. Combine that with his negative rizz and "Your hair is... clean"... SOLD!! 😅🥺 (Seriously, love that line 😂)

🌹 A man who could have taken the easy way out but chose to stand against tyranny and fight for what's right ... I feel like books these days severely lack "heroes". Personally, I'm not a fan of goodie two shoes characters, BUT Tamlin's a great example of I will fight for what's right but still do everything in my power to save you. And that's just 🫠🫠 (also *cough* dragging Beron by the neck *cough* 🥵🤤 ALSO saving Lucien!! Harboring him, giving him a job!!!)

🌹 The fact that he ended slavery, takes in refugees from other courts and celebrates their festivals, and if the tales are to be believed, harbored humans that were from the children of the blessed and treated them well. ... HOW DOES ANYONE NOT LOVE THIS MAN?????

🌹 One of my favorite things about him is how he values life. From personally burying the blue fairy to feeling guilty about slaying the Naga. It shows that his heart is still soft despite the hard manner in which he was brought up. I think it's such a precious and underrated aspect of him.

🌹 Another major thing is that despite how wronged he was, he still put aside that hatred and saved Feyre and her crew and then Rhysand. I don't think I could ever have such forgiveness in my heart for these characters and what they did to him. It was such a big move from him that it baffles me why fans still hate him to such a degree.

🌹 And lastly... his carefree side. From the fiddling to the swimming to the limericks. I love that artistic side of him. A man with such rough edges but somehow a great musician, a poet. Ugh I wish we saw more of this side of him 🥺🫠

🌹 Okay, one more thing, they always say the best leaders are the ones who do not want the job. Whilst I don't think Tam is the best leader, I do think he truly is a good one. You just don't get citizens willing to sacrifice themselves for a tyrant. That alone tells you they respected him and believed in him. But more so, when your court is completely destroyed and you still manage to inspire people to fight under you. I was truly impressed that Tamlin showed up with a small army in the Hybern war! 👏👏

🌹 Okay, last, last one. He was romantic 🥺🫠😍 I found it so hilarious at how much he did not want to date Feyre. But all those moments, from the rose garden to showing her the fae world, the "Just a glen", the willow o wisps 🫠🫠🫠🫠 it was magical and beautiful and I feel like the rest of the series lacks that. Also, during these moments, you see him going from someone who wasn't interested to someone falling hard and fast and 😭😭😭😭 he deserves better man!

In conclusion, a hott dorky yet romantic man with the heart of gold who will still rip the throats of their enemies (with his teeth 🫠🥵)

can anyone who’s also in love with tamlin please reblog this with the things you love about him? I’ve seen too much negative merch recently and it’s depressing me

#tamlin #pro tamlin #acotar #my love ❤️#i feel like theres probably more but i cant remember now

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thollandsgirl2013 · 2 days ago

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𝐀 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨'𝐬 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐰

Parings → Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings → angst, fluff, bickering

Summary → Peter Parker and Y/N, classmates with clashing views on Spider-Man, constantly bicker until they unexpectedly start dating. When Y/N discovers Peter’s secret, their relationship is tested, leading to love, trust, and acceptance.

You sat at your usual lunch table, picking at the corner of your sandwich. MJ was engrossed in her sketchbook, adding tiny details to a scene that only made sense to her. Ned was, as usual, scrolling through some Reddit thread about Star Wars theories. And then there was Peter, sitting directly across from you, stealing glances at you between bites of his apple.

Peter Parker. Your classmate. MJ’s friend. By default, your friend. Except you weren’t sure “friend” was the right word when all you ever did was argue.

It all started a month ago.

You had been lamenting over the state of your mom’s flower shop—crushed display racks, smashed windows, and shattered pots after a Spider-Man fight. You weren’t exactly his biggest fan before, but that incident sealed the deal. Since then, any mention of Spider-Man sent you into a tirade, and Peter, for reasons unknown to you, always felt the need to defend him.

“Y’know, I don’t get why you hate him so much,” Peter started, leaning forward on the table. “He’s literally out there saving the city.”

“Oh, please,” you snapped, glaring at him. “Saving the city? More like destroying it in the process.”

MJ smirked but didn’t look up from her sketchbook. She always found these debates amusing.

“He’s trying his best!” Peter argued, raising his hands defensively. “It’s not like he plans to wreck things. Do you know how hard it is to fight a supervillain while keeping everything intact? ”

“I don’t care how hard it is, Peter. He’s supposed to be a superhero. If he’s going to throw someone into a building, maybe pick one that’s already abandoned!”

“Buildings aren’t labeled ‘abandoned,’ Y/N!” Peter shot back, his voice rising slightly.

“And who asked you to be Spider-Man’s PR guy?” You retorted, crossing your arms.

“Someone has to defend him against unreasonable critics!” Peter huffed, his cheeks flushing.

Ned let out a low whistle, leaning back in his chair. “Here we go again.”

“Okay, but seriously,” Peter continued, pointing a finger at you. “You’re ignoring all the good he does. What about the times he’s saved people? The bank robberies he’s stopped? The kids he’s rescued from burning buildings?”

“Yeah, and what about the innocent people he’s hurt in the process?” You fired back. “My mom’s flower shop was destroyed, Peter. Destroyed! And all he did was yell, ‘Sorry!’ like that would magically pay for everything.”

Peter winced at that, and for a brief moment, you thought you’d won. But then he leaned forward, his brown eyes narrowing.

“Well, maybe if you knew the first thing about being a hero, you’d understand that sometimes sacrifices have to be made!”

“Sacrifices? Oh, so now my mom’s livelihood is a sacrifice?”

MJ finally looked up, raising an eyebrow at the two of you. “You guys do know you sound like an old married couple, right?”

“WHAT?” You and Peter shouted in unison, your faces burning.

Ned chuckled. “I mean, she’s not wrong. The bickering, the tension… it’s classic rom-com material.”

“There’s no tension!” Peter exclaimed, his voice cracking slightly.

“Yeah, because there’s no romance!” You added, glaring at him.

MJ smirked knowingly and returned to her sketchbook. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

---

Later that day, as you packed up your books after class, Peter approached you, looking uncharacteristically nervous.

“Hey,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck.

“What now? You want another Spider-Man defense speech?” You asked, not bothering to hide the annoyance in your tone.

“No, uh… not that,” he said quickly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I just… I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

That caught you off guard. “Sorry? For what?”

“For yelling at you earlier,” he admitted, his voice softer now. “I didn’t mean to downplay what happened to your mom’s shop. That sucks, and you have every right to be mad.”

You blinked, unsure how to respond. “Oh… um, thanks, I guess?”

Peter smiled awkwardly, and for a moment, you saw a side of him you hadn’t noticed before—genuine, kind, and a little shy.

“Anyway,” he said, stepping back, “I just thought you should know that… Spider-Man would probably feel awful about what happened. If he knew, I mean.”

You frowned, puzzled by his choice of words. “Yeah, well… too little, too late.”

Peter nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he walked away.

As you watched him leave, a strange thought crossed your mind. Why did he care so much about what you thought of Spider-Man?

And why did his apology make your chest feel weirdly warm?

---

Over the next few weeks, your heated arguments with Peter began to mellow out. Sure, you still disagreed on Spider-Man—he’d throw in a sly comment about his heroics, and you’d roll your eyes and retort with something snarky—but the intensity had dulled. MJ even joked that you two were “maturing,” though Ned claimed it was just because you were running out of insults.

Somehow, in the midst of it all, you found yourself… enjoying Peter’s company. He was annoyingly persistent, yes, but he was also witty, kind, and, admittedly, kind of cute when he got flustered.

You weren’t sure when the dynamic shifted, but it became clear one sunny afternoon in the cafeteria.

---

“You’re telling me Spider-Man doesn’t do anything for the city?” Peter asked, raising an eyebrow as he took a sip of his chocolate milk.

“I’m saying he does some things,” you admitted, stabbing your fork into your pasta. “But he could learn to be a little more considerate. Not everything is about showing off with a backflip mid-fight.”

Peter nearly choked on his drink. “A backflip mid-fight? Are you serious right now?”

“It’s true!” You insisted, laughing despite yourself. “What, does he think the villains will be so impressed they’ll just surrender?”

Peter opened his mouth to respond, but then he stopped, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you shot back, grinning.

Across the table, MJ and Ned exchanged knowing glances.

“Okay,” Ned interrupted, leaning forward. “This is officially weird. When did you two stop hating each other?”

“We never hated each other,” Peter said quickly, his ears turning red.

You tilted your head, smirking. “Yeah, Peter’s more like… a really annoying little brother.”

Peter scoffed. “Little brother? I’m literally older than you.”

“By, what, four months?”

“Still counts,” he retorted, but his smile softened the blow.

---

A few days later, as you packed your books into your bag after chemistry class, Peter lingered by the door.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, sounding uncharacteristically hesitant.

“Hey, Peter,” you replied, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “What’s up?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit you’d come to recognize. “So, um… I was wondering if you wanted to, uh, grab coffee or something. W-With me. Like… like a date?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “A date?”

“Yeah,” he said quickly, his cheeks flushing. “I mean, I know we argue a lot, but I also think you’re really smart and funny and—”

“Peter,” you interrupted, smiling. “I’d love to.”

He blinked. “Wait… really?”

“Yes, really,” you said, laughing. “But if we’re going on a date, you better not spend the whole time defending Spider-Man.”

Peter grinned, his confidence returning. “Deal. As long as you don’t spend the whole time calling him a diva.”

“No promises on that,” you teased, brushing past him as you walked toward the door. “Pick me up at seven?”

“Seven,” he repeated, nodding like an eager puppy.

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but smile. Maybe Peter Parker wasn’t so bad after all.

---

Peter had been the perfect boyfriend for the past six months—sweet, caring, and thoughtful in every way. He always seemed to know how to make you smile, whether it was sneaking your favorite snacks into your bag or staying up late on FaceTime to help you with homework.

Today, you wanted to return the favor. With his favorite brownies in hand, you headed to his apartment, excited to surprise him

When Aunt May opened the door, her warm smile immediately made you feel welcome. “Y/N! What a surprise,” she said, stepping aside to let you come in.

“I brought brownies for him.” You said with a smile.

“Oh, he'll love those. Peter’s in his room,” she said, drying her hands on a dish towel. “He’ll love that you came.”

“Thanks, Aunt May,” you said, your excitement bubbling as you made your way down the hallway to his bedroom.

Without knocking, you pushed it open. “Hey, Peter—”

The words caught in your throat.

Peter stood in the middle of his room, his back to you. He was peeling a red and blue suit halfway down his body, revealing a torso covered in bruises and cuts. The mask lay discarded on the bed.

Spider-Man.

Peter's Spider-Man.

It was like the air had been sucked out of the room. You froze in place, your mind racing.

Peter turned at the sound of your voice, his eyes going wide with panic. “Y/N!”

Before you could react, he darted forward, grabbing your hand and pulling you inside. He shut the door behind you and leaned against it, as if trying to block out the world.

“Baby, hey,” he said quickly, his hands gently cupping your face. “Look at me. Y/N, please. Just breathe, okay?”

Your chest tightened. Words wouldn’t come. It all made sense now—why he defended Spider-Man so passionately, why he limped sometimes, why he was late or distracted on dates.

“Y-You’re… Spider-Man?” You finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Peter winced, his hands falling to his sides. “Yeah,” he admitted quietly.

Your heart sank. “You’ve been lying to me this whole time?”

“No, I—I wasn’t lying,” Peter stammered, his voice laced with desperation. “I just… I didn’t know how to tell you. I thought… I thought you’d hate me.”

“Hate you?” You repeated, your voice rising. “Peter, why would I hate you?”

He hesitated, his brown eyes searching yours. “Because… you hate Spider-Man.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. “That’s why you didn’t tell me? Because you thought I’d hate you?”

Peter nodded, his shoulders slumping. “I didn’t want to lose you, Y/N. You’ve always been so… so vocal about how much you don’t like Spider-Man. I thought if you knew, you’d look at me differently. That you’d leave.”

You stared at him, your emotions spiraling—anger, betrayal, confusion, worry. “Peter, I hated Spider-Man because of what happened to my mom’s shop. But you—you’re not just Spider-Man. You’re Peter. How could you think I’d leave you?”

“Because I’ve seen the way you talk about him—about me,” he said softly, his voice breaking. “I thought… if you knew, it would change everything.”

You took a shaky breath, your chest tight with conflicting emotions. “Peter, you lied to me. You hid a huge part of your life from me. Do you know how that makes me feel?”

“I know,” he said, his voice thick with guilt. “I know I messed up. I should’ve told you. But I was scared, Y/N. Scared that I’d lose you, and I couldn’t handle that.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You could see the fear in his eyes, the vulnerability he tried so hard to hide.

“I don’t know how to feel right now,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I’m mad at you, Peter. But I’m also… worried. You’re out there risking your life every day, and I didn’t even know. I don’t know if I can handle that.”

Peter stepped closer, his hands hovering near yours. “I get it. I do. And if you need time to figure things out, I’ll give you all the time in the world. Just… please don’t walk away. Please.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you looked at him—the boy you loved, the hero you’d misunderstood. “I need to think,” you said quietly.

Peter nodded, his expression pained but understanding. “Okay,” he whispered.

You turned and left the room, your heart heavy with the weight of everything you’d just learned.

As you stepped out into the cool evening air, one thought echoed in your mind: You loved Peter Parker, but could you love Spider-Man, too?

---

The walk home was a blur. Your mind replayed the scene in Peter’s room over and over—his bruised body, the half-on Spider-Man suit, the raw fear in his eyes as he begged you not to hate him. You couldn’t decide what hurt more: that he’d kept such a massive secret from you or that he genuinely believed you’d leave him for it.

The next few days were agonizing. Peter gave you space, just as he promised, but it didn’t stop the text notifications from lighting up your phone.

Peter: I’m sorry.

Peter: Please let me explain everything. I owe you that.

Peter: I miss you.

Peter: I love you.

Each message was harder to read than the last. You missed him, too. But every time you thought about reaching out, doubt crept in. Could you handle being with someone who risked his life every day? Could you handle knowing the person you loved might not come home one night?

By the third day, MJ cornered you at lunch.

“Alright, spill,” she said, sliding into the seat next to you.

You blinked at her, feigning innocence. “Spill what?”

“Don’t play dumb, Y/N,” she said, crossing her arms. “Peter’s been moping around like a kicked puppy, and you’ve been weirdly quiet. What happened?”

You hesitated, unsure if Peter had told MJ the truth about being Spider-Man. But the knowing look in her eyes answered your unspoken question.

“You know, don’t you?” You asked softly.

MJ slowy nodded. “I’ve known for a while. He’s terrible at keeping secrets.”

A bitter laugh escaped you. “Yeah, except from me.”

MJ sighed, resting a hand on your arm. “Look, I get why you’re upset. But Peter’s not a bad guy. He didn’t tell you because he was scared. He’s always scared when it comes to you.”

“Scared of what?” You asked, your voice cracking.

“Of losing you,” MJ said simply. “He thinks you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him, Y/N. And he’s terrified that being Spider-Man will ruin that.”

Your chest tightened. You’d spent so much time feeling hurt and betrayed that you hadn’t stopped to think about how much Peter must have struggled with his decision.

---

That evening, you found yourself standing outside Peter’s apartment. You didn’t even remember deciding to come—it was like your feet had a mind of their own.

Aunt May opened the door, her expression lighting up when she saw you. “Y/N! Oh, thank goodness. Peter’s been mopping around since the day you left. It feels like a gloomy cloud in here.”

You managed a small smile. “Is he home?”

She nodded, stepping aside. “He’s in his room. Go on.”

Your heart pounded as you stopped in front of his door. This time, you knocked.

“Come in,” Peter called, his voice muffled.

You pushed the door open and stepped inside. Peter was sitting at his desk, his back to you, but he froze when he saw you in the reflection of his computer screen.

“Y/N,” he breathed, turning to face you. His eyes were tired, his hair messier than usual, and there was a bruise on his cheek that hadn’t been there before.

“Hey,” you said softly, closing the door behind you.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then Peter stood, his hands fidgeting nervously. “I—I didn’t think you’d come back.”

“I needed time,” you admitted. “But I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Peter’s shoulders sagged in relief, but his eyes were still filled with uncertainty. “Are you… okay?”

“No,” you said honestly. “I’m still upset. You kept something huge from me, Peter. I feel like I don’t even know you.”

“You do know me,” he said quickly, stepping closer. “Spider-Man is just… something I do. But Peter Parker? The guy who loves brownies and terrible science jokes and can’t go a day without thinking about you? That’s me. That’s who I am.”

Tears stung your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “I’m scared, Peter. Every time you put on that suit, you’re risking your life. How am I supposed to be okay with that?”

Peter reached for your hands, his touch gentle but firm. “I can’t promise I’ll always be safe. But I can promise I’ll do everything I can to come back to you. You’re the reason I fight so hard, Y/N. You make me want to be better.”

Your heart ached at the sincerity in his voice. He wasn’t perfect, but he was Peter—the boy you fell in love with.

“I’m still mad,” you said, your voice wavering.

Peter gave you a small, tentative smile. “I can live with that. As long as you’re still here.”

You let out a shaky laugh, finally letting a tear slip down your cheek. “You’re lucky I love you, Parker.”

Relief flooded his face as he pulled you into a hug, holding you like he was afraid you’d disappear. “I love you, too. So much.”

You buried your face in his chest, the familiar warmth of his embrace grounding you. For better or worse, you were in this together.

And for now, that was enough.

‎∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

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tikosblogg · 2 days ago

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Meet n Greet… Noah Drabble..

Warning: none just pure cuteness.

A/N: This has been rotting in my drafts forever. I decided to post it while I’m working on Ch 2 of who am I? It should be up by one day this week!

Bad omens. My favorite band. Here I was watching them live, along with my four year old lily.

A questionable parenting choice, perhaps, taking a small child to a metal concert. But Lily loved them. I’d played their music constantly since she was born. “There Is A Hell, Believe Me I’ve Seen It. There Is A Heaven, Let’s Keep It A Secret” was practically her lullaby. Okay, maybe not the best lullaby, but she seemed to like it.

And now, here we were, waiting in line for the meet and greet. Lily, perched on my hip, was a whirlwind of excited energy. Her tiny hands were clapping, her bright blue eyes darting around the room, soaking in the sights and sounds.

Then she saw him.

Noah. The man whose voice had carried me through so many tough times. He was standing with the rest of the band, posing for pictures with a fan.

“NOAH!” Lily’s voice, surprisingly loud for such a small person, sliced through the din. She started waving her hand, her little face alight with pure, unadulterated joy. “Noah! Noah!”

He looked up. His dark eyes, that I’d only ever seen in photos or on a screen, locked onto Lily. A genuine, warm smile spread across his face, transforming his usual brooding expression. He waved back.

Lily squealed, wriggling in my arms, as I sat her down beside me. The line inched forward, each step feeling like an eternity. Finally, it was our turn.

As soon as our feet hit the designated photo area, Lily launched herself forward. She bypassed the rest of the band entirely and barreled straight into Noah, wrapping her arms around his leg in a tight hug.

He laughed, a deep, resonant sound that sent shivers down my spine. He reached down, effortlessly scooping her up into his arms. Lily, now face-to-face with her idol, hugged him around the neck.

“If I’m there’ is me and Mommy’s favorite song!” she declared, her voice muffled against his shoulder.

Noah’s laugh was warm against my ears this time. “Really? I love that song too.”

“Yeah,” Lily continued, her volume increasing with each word, “but Mommy cries when she hears it!”

My cheeks flushed crimson. Mortification washed over me in waves. "Lily, shhh," I hissed, trying to silence her from completely exposing me. It was true. That song always got to me.

Noah looked at me, that sweet smile still playing on his lips. Then, turning back to Lily, and looking around us, as if expecting someone else to be with us, he asked, “Does your daddy not like our music too?”

Lily shook her head vehemently. “I don’t have a daddy.”

The laughter in Noah’s eyes vanished. His expression softened, a flicker of something I couldn’t quite decipher crossing his features. He gave Lily another squeeze, his gaze shifting to me. He mouthed a silent “sorry,” his eyes conveying genuine sympathy.

I shrugged it off, offering a weak smile. It was fine. We were fine.

“I have a mommy,” Lily declared, puffing out her chest with pride. “I don’t need a daddy.”

Noah nodded, his gaze lingering on me just a beat too long. “That’s right. You got your mommy. That’s all you need.”

He looked at me again, his eyes searching mine. Before I could formulate a response, Lily piped up again. “Mommy says she wish you were my daddy, cuz you’re handsome!”

I gasped, instinctively covering my face with my hands. This couldn't be happening. The earth should just open up and swallow me whole. Humiliation pricked at my skin.

Noah and the rest of the band erupted in laughter. It was good natured laughter, but still. I wanted to disappear.

Noah, regaining his composure, looked at me with amusement dancing in his eyes. "Well, I think your mommy is very pretty too."

My heart skipped a beat. Heat bloomed in my chest, chasing away some, but not all, of the embarrassment.

He reached out his hand. Hesitantly, I took it. His fingers closed around mine, his grip warm and surprisingly firm. He gently tugged me closer, pulling me into his side.

“Come on, let’s get a picture,” he said, his voice low and smooth.

The rest of the band gathered around us, their laughter subsiding into playful grins. I felt a hand on my back, guiding me into place. I was acutely aware of his arm around my waist, the warmth of his body pressed against mine.

Someone snapped a photo. Then another. And another. Each flash of the camera a stark reminder of the surreal situation I found myself in.

Finally, the impromptu photoshoot was over. I fumbled in my bag, pulling out a CD insert of their album. It was a picture of the whole band. “Would you mind signing this?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

They happily obliged, passing the insert around for each member to add their signature. Noah was last. He took the marker, his dark eyes meeting mine. He held my gaze for a long moment, something unreadable swirling within their depths.

He scribbled something on the insert, then handed it back to me with a wink. “Was nice meeting you two,” he said, his voice a soft murmur.

Flustered, I thanked them and quickly ushered Lily out of the room. The cool night air felt like a welcome relief against my burning skin.

Back in the car, strapped into Lily's carseat, she chattered excitedly about meeting Noah. I managed a weak smile and started the engine.

As I pulled out of the parking lot, I glanced down at the signed CD insert, which was lying on the passenger seat. I picked it up, my fingers tracing the signatures. Then, my eyes landed on something else.

Beneath his signature, Noah had written a phone number. A real, legitimate phone number.

My breath hitched. My heart pounded in my chest. My mind reeled. Was this really happening?

I stared at the number, my fingers trembling. It was a bold move. A completely unexpected move. A move that had the potential to change everything.

I glanced in the rearview mirror at Lily, fast asleep in her car seat, her face peaceful and serene. I looked back at the number.

#noah sebastian #bad omens #badomensimagines #noahsebastiancult #bad omens cult #imagines #bad omens band

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iamquiantrelle · 1 day ago

Text

GOLDEN BOY (chapter 7) ────── iamquaintrelle

⌗ pairing : trent alexander arnold x black oc ⌗ wc: 8.5k

⌗ summary : trent is having a quarter life crisis but will a smart-mouthed girl whip him into shape?

⌗ warnings : 18+ only!! (☁️☔️💕)

⌗taglist: @trentswrld, @trentpov @judesvirtual @sailurmewn @football-and-fanfics @eriks-girl @preetykookie @4ngryssgf @endlessmuse @noturbabe22, @sucredreamer@bbgkoo @hollablkgrl @notzara @chrisoppar @letmeapologise @amrx1

The coffee bar in Anfield's canteen was dead quiet this early. Trent scrolled through his latest Instagram post while waiting for his order - just match photos from Plymouth, him celebrating the free kick, that moment during warm-ups he'd already gotten proper stick for.

His notifications were crazy. Everyone from fan pages to gossip blogs reposting and analyzing every detail. DeuxMoi had gone full detective mode:

"SPOTTED: Liverpool's golden boy getting soppy at FA Cup match. Sources say mystery photographer GF has him properly whipped. We're living for this soft era TAA!"

The comments were even worse:

"That 'A' celebration I can't 😭😭" "He's so gone for her" "Who is she?? Drop the skincare routine sis" "Mans really blowing kisses now? She must be something else 👀" "Remember when he tried being posh with that Sophie girl? This feels more real" "She's too alternative for him" "That's our boy growing up 🥺" "Those sunglasses are Prada SS24 collection someone's got TASTE"

Some proper weird ones too: "Step on me queen" "They would make beautiful babies" "I know what she got him doing behind closed doors 😈"

If they only knew.

His coffee arrived just as another blog posted: "TAA's New Romance: From Bad Boy to Soft Boy? A Timeline."

Proper violation, all of it. But he couldn't help grinning at his phone like some teenager.

Even if the Daily Mail's "Liverpool Star TAMED By Photographer?" headline was a bit much.

The training ground was buzzing more than usual. Trent could hear the lads before he even reached the dressing room, all huddled around someone's phone.

"There he is!" Ibou's voice boomed. "Our romantic hero!"

"Seen the Daily Mail?" Darwin waved his phone. "They're calling you 'whipped.'"

"Proper soft lad now," Robbo grinned. "What happened to Mr. Posh London?"

"Better than that Sophie era," Mo said quietly, pulling on his boots. "You seem happier."

That’s because he was happier. Ecstatic even.

The session started intense - Slot had them doing drills that had Trent's legs burning. But the chat wouldn't stop.

"That 'A' celebration though–" Darwin started.

"For Aura," Trent cut in.

"Sure mate," Robbo laughed. "Nothing to do with a certain photographer?"

Even Virgil was smirking now, watching Trent try to focus on his crosses while the lads proper rinsed him.

His phone buzzed in his bag - probably April seeing all this shit online. She'd been finding it funny, all these blogs trying to figure her out. Kept sending him the wildest theories with laughing emojis.

"Oi lover boy!" Slot called out. "Less daydreaming, more crossing!"

The lads actually cheered at that.

Proper long day ahead.

"You know what's mad though?" Darwin said during their water break. "All these blogs thinking they've figured her out. Calling her 'alternative' and that."

"Should see what they're saying on Twitter," Robbo added. "Proper CSI investigation about her style choices."

"Saw one calling her the 'mysterious bad girl photographer who's tamed Liverpool's playboy,'" Curtis scrolled through his phone.

"Playboy?" Now Trent properly laughed. "When was I ever-"

"Remember that time with the London lot?" Joe cut in. "All those posh clubs and that?"

"Rather forget it."

"This is better though, right?" Mo said, that knowing look in his eyes. "Being yourself?"

Before Trent could answer, his phone buzzed.

April: Your mentions are hilarious. April: Apparently I'm a witch who's enchanted you. April: If they only knew my actual methods 😈

"Look at that smile," Darwin crowed. "She's texting you dirty things isn't she?"

"Shut up."

"Back to work!" Slot called out. "Save the romance for after training!"

The lads were never going to let this go. But watching them try to figure April out… entertaining that. Even if half their guesses weren't nearly as wild as the truth.

The tactical session after water break was insane - working on new set piece routines for their next league match. Trent's mind stayed sharp though, even with the lads still taking the piss.

"Maybe we should all get a photographer watching training," Darwin called after Trent placed another perfect cross. "Might play better."

"You'd need one who can handle you lot first," Trent shot back.

"True that," Robbo laughed. "Not everyone tells Nike to fuck off when they don't like the concept."

"Wait what?" Ibou perked up.

"That was her?" Curtis joined in. "The one who binned their campaign?"

Trent just grinned. That was his April alright.

"No wonder she's got standards," Robbo continued. "If she can tell Nike to get bent-"

"Oi!" Slot's voice cut through. "Less gossip, more football!"

But even their gaffer was smirking now. The whole club had gone proper soft over this thing with April.

His phone buzzed again in his bag.

"Don't even think about checking that," Virgil called out, but he was grinning too. "Save it for after training."

Violation, all of them.

But Trent couldn't stop smiling either.

Slot ended training with shooting drills - competitive stuff that had everyone trying to outdo each other. Trent's deliveries were getting sharper each time, like he'd unlocked some new level of precision.

"Ready for Everton then?" Virgil asked as they headed in.

"More than."

"Bringing April?"

"If I earn it."

That made Virgil pause halfway through taking off his boots. "If you what?"

But Trent was already heading for the showers, pretending he hadn't heard. Some things were better left unexplained to his captain.

His phone lit up as he was getting dressed - April had sent through a video. Just three seconds of her at some photoshoot, directing some poor player. But the way she was giving those commands…..

"Your face has gone red," Curtis noted. "She sending you work stuff or 'work stuff'?"

"Shut up."

But his hands were already fumbling with his keys.

"Tell her thanks by the way!" Robbo called after him. "Your crosses are ten times better when she's got you trained– I mean focused!"

The lads' laughter followed him out to his car.

The drive to April's studio felt longer than usual. She'd taken over some massive space in the Baltic Triangle for her latest athlete series - proper artsy setup that had Tyler excited about brand possibilities.

His phone buzzed at a red light.

April: Glad training went well.

April: Those commands really working for you, aren't they?

His collar felt tight suddenly. She was never going to let him live down how well he responded to orders, was she?

The studio door was open when he arrived, music drifting out - some jazz thing she always played during shoots. He found her behind her massive camera, directing some rugby player into position.

"Chin up," she commanded, and Trent's stomach actually flipped. "Little to the left."

The rugby lad - a real massive unit - followed every instruction perfectly. Made Trent feel slightly better about how quickly he'd fallen into taking April's orders.

"We're done," she announced finally. "My assistant will sort the rest."

The way she said 'done' had Trent's skin tingling. Because that tone meant–

"Ready for your private session?" She turned those eyes on him. "Got some new directions to try out."

Fucking hell.

The rugby player gave him an odd look as he left, probably wondering why Liverpool's right back was blushing in a photography studio.

If he only knew.

April locked the studio door with that click that always made his stomach flip. Her assistant had scampered off too - probably used to these "private sessions" by now.

"So," she turned to face him, all business suddenly. "That free kick technique."

Not what he was expecting. "What?"

"The way you looked up at me before taking it." She moved closer, professional photographer face on but something else in her eyes. "Want to analyze that focus of yours."

"Thought this was a private session?"

"It is." Her smile turned dangerous. "I'm studying your form."

She had him sit in one of her fancy studio chairs, then started circling him slowly. Proper predator mode now.

"You see," she continued, voice dropping lower, "there's something fascinating about the way you respond to... direction."

His collar felt too tight again.

"That look up to the stands," her fingers traced his jaw. "Seeking permission almost."

"I wasn't–"

"Don't lie." Not a suggestion. "We both know exactly what you were doing."

Fuck.

"Now then," she moved behind him, hands on his shoulders. "Let's see how well you follow instructions when there's no crowd watching."

His breath actually caught.

"Color?"

"Green," he managed. "So green."

"Strip to your boxers," she commanded, suddenly all business again. "Want to see those muscles that had everyone at training impressed today."

The studio air was cool against his skin as he complied. April's eyes tracked every movement like she was composing shots in her head.

"Good boy." She circled him again. "Now, about that celebration..."

"For Aura–"

"Don't lie to your dom." Her nails traced his shoulders. "That 'A' wasn't just for your niece, was it?"

His face heated. "No ma'am."

"Mmm." She moved to her camera setup. "The whole world trying to figure out who's got Liverpool's golden boy making love declarations during matches."

"Wasn't a love–"

"On your knees."

His body responded before his brain could catch up.

"That's better." She adjusted her lens. "We’re going to see if you can be a good boy when there's a camera involved."

Fucking hell.

"Going to document that focus of yours," she continued, that photographer's precision mixing with her dom voice. "Show you exactly what you look like when you're being good for me."

The camera clicked.

This was going to be an interesting session. Though these definitely weren't the kind of shots Tyler had in mind for his brand deals.

April reached for her hair, pulling it free from that complicated bun. Her curls cascaded down, longer than when they'd first met. Something about them drove him mental - wild and untamed, just like her.

She shed her clothes with that same grace she did everything, down to matching black underwear. The camera clicker in her hand made his heart skip - professional and dom all at once.

Beautiful didn't cover it. She was art herself, the kind that belonged in galleries.

April moved toward him like she had all the time in the world, each step calculated to drive him mad. When she straddled his lap, his hands found her waist automatically.

"Kiss me." Her eyes locked with his, command clear.

He obeyed instantly because that's what good boys did. The kiss was electric - all the tension from their public teasing finally breaking. Camera flashes caught the moment in his peripheral vision, but he was lost in her - the taste of her lipstick, the soft sighs she made.

Then she caught his bottom lip between her teeth, pulling just enough to make him groan.

"Hands behind your back," she murmured against his lips. Even her softest commands had him obeying instantly.

The camera clicked again, catching him looking up at her like she hung the moon. Which she probably had, knowing April.

Her curls fell around them like a curtain as she kissed along his jaw, following the path to his ear. "Such a good boy for me."

His whole body shuddered at the praise.

"Though that celebration..." She pulled back, studying his face. "Very bold of you. Making the whole world wonder."

"Wasn't thinking straight."

"No?" Her smile turned wicked. "Too focused on impressing me?"

"Always."

The admission made her eyes darken. Another click of the camera.

"My good boy," she whispered, fingers tracing his muscles. "So eager to show everyone who you belong to."

His hands twitched behind his back, desperate to touch her curls, to pull her closer. But he stayed still because that's what she wanted.

"Color?"

"Green, ma'am. Still green."

The camera caught that moment too - him properly gone for her, following her every command.

"Tell me what you were thinking," she said, rolling her hips slightly. "When you looked up at me before that free kick."

His brain wasn't working proper now, not with her moving like that. "Just... wanted to make you proud."

Click. The camera catching his confession.

"And were you thinking about your reward?" Her lips brushed his ear. "About what good boys get?"

"Yes ma'am."

Her curls tickled his chest as she moved to his neck, finding the spot that always made him weak. The same spot she'd marked before Plymouth.

"Should I mark you again?" Her teeth grazed his skin. "Give everyone something new to speculate about?"

His "please" came out embarrassingly needy.

Click. Another photo of him falling apart for her.

"Such pretty begging." She pulled back to study his face. "But I think..." her smile turned dangerous. "I think we need to work on your control first."

His hands were shaking behind his back now.

"After all," she continued, "can't have you getting distracted during matches just because I'm watching."

Jesus Christ.

"Stand up," she commanded suddenly, sliding off his lap. "Against that wall."

His legs were shaking as he obeyed, back pressed against the exposed brick. April watched him move, that photographer's eye mixed with something darker.

The clicker still dangled from her wrist as she approached. Her curls were proper wild now, matching the look in her eyes.

"Beautiful," she murmured, more to herself than him. Like she was composing the perfect shot in her head. "Now stay still."

Click. Him pressed against her studio wall, looking at her like she was everything.

She traced the muscles in his chest, following the path down to his abs. Each touch deliberate, calculated to drive him mental.

"The whole world thinks they know what we do," she said softly. "All those blogs speculating..."

Click. His reaction to her words, to her touch.

"If they only knew..." Her nails scraped lightly across his skin. "How perfectly you submit."

His head fell back against the wall, overwhelmed.

"Look at me."

His eyes snapped to hers instantly.

"Good boy." She smiled that smile that meant trouble.

The camera definitely caught everything - every command, every reaction, every moment he fell deeper under her spell.

Her lips found his again, deep and demanding, each kiss punctuated by the camera's click as it captured their profiles - her curls falling around them, his hands still obediently at his sides. One last perfect shot.

Finally, she pulled away to head to her set-up. The sound of the camera powering down felt like permission to breathe. She set the clicker aside, each movement calculated.

April moved back over to him, smile wide and genuine as her fingers traced his cropped hair. Different April now - still commanding but with something else mixed in.

"You've been so good," she murmured. "Time for your reward."

His whole body went hot at her tone.

Trent’s breath hitched as April stepped back, her gaze never leaving his as she reached behind her back and unhooked her bra. The straps slid down her arms, and the black lace hit the floor, leaving her bare under the soft glow of the studio lights. His hands twitched at his sides, the urge to touch her damn near unbearable, but he stayed put. He knew better than to move without her say-so.

Her panties followed next, a slow, deliberate slide down the curve of her hips. Then, with a tilt of her head, she gestured toward him. "Take off your boxers."

Trent obeyed without hesitation, pushing them down in one smooth motion. His dick stood hard and aching, but April didn’t reach for it. Instead, she ran a single finger down his chest, tracing over the ridges of his abs, lower and lower, before stopping just short of where he wanted her most.

She smirked. "You were so good for me earlier," she mused, tilting her head. "It’s only right I take care of you."

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, muscles tensing as she gave him a slow once-over. The way she looked at him — like he was something to be studied, savored — made his pulse race.

Then, without another word, April placed a hand on his chest and pushed him to the left. Trent let her guide him until the back of his knees met the cool leather of the chaise nearby, his body sprawled under her gaze.

She moved between his legs, climbing onto the seat with the same grace and precision she brought to everything she did. Then, with that same teasing smirk, she lifted one knee and settled herself above him.

His eyes darkened as the realization sank in. "Yeah?" His voice was rough, hopeful.

April hummed, running her fingers through his short curls before gripping them tight. "Yeah," she confirmed, shifting forward until her thighs framed his face. "This is your reward."

Trent didn’t need to be told twice.

His hands, finally free to move, gripped the backs of her thighs, pulling her fully onto his mouth. April gasped, her head falling back as his tongue flicked against her clit, slow and precise. He was a menace — taking his time, making her feel every deliberate movement.

"You taste so fucking good, ma’am," he murmured, voice muffled against her skin. His hands squeezed, fingers digging into her ass as he pulled her closer, deeper until she was grinding on his face. April barely had time to catch her breath before he doubled down, tongue slipping lower to her hole before working its way back up, circling, teasing.

Her nails raked over his scalp, her grip tightening as she rocked against his mouth. "Just like that," she panted, legs trembling as heat coiled deep in her stomach. "Don’t stop."

Like hell he would.

Trent groaned against her, the vibration sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through her spine. His grip tightened, his movements growing hungrier, sloppier. His nose pressed against her folds, his tongue relentless as his senses grew drunk on her scent, her taste, her sounds.

April swore, her thighs clamping around his head as she rode out the waves crashing through her. Trent didn’t let up — not even as her body shuddered, not even as she whimpered from the overstimulation, not until he caught every drop she was giving him.

His tongue slowed, softening, easing her down from the high. When she finally lifted herself off him, her body still buzzing, she took a moment to exhale.

Trent wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, lips swollen, pupils blown wide. "Best reward ever, ma’am."

April laughed, leaning down to press a kiss to his slick lips. "You earned it."

*******************************************************

They got dressed slowly, April's curls even wilder now as she pulled them back into some semblance of order.

"Come here," she called him over to her massive computer screen. "Want to show you something."

The photos loaded up - proper artistic color shots that looked like they belonged in some fancy magazine. Him looking up at her with complete devotion, her curls creating shadows across his chest, their profiles caught in perfect contrast.

"These are…" He couldn't find the words.

"Better than those boring brand shots Tyler keeps pushing?" She scrolled through more - each one like a Calvin Klein ad but more intimate somehow. More real.

Some were proper hot - the kind that would never see daylight. But others… the way she'd captured them together. Like proper art.

"Your face here," she pointed to one where he was gazing up at her. "That's what I want to capture in our next shoot."

"That look's just for you though."

She turned to him, smile soft. "I know. These private ones stay private. But that intensity…" Her fingers traced his jaw. "That devotion. That's what sells."

He looked back at the screen - at himself completely under her spell, at her looking like some kind of goddess.

Maybe Tyler was onto something with these photoshoots after all.

"You hungry?" The words came out weirdly nervous, considering what they'd just been doing.

April's eyebrow arched at his tone. "If you want me to sleepover, then just say that."

His brain properly short-circuited. This wasn't how it usually worked. April was all about earning rewards, about proving himself worthy of her time. Not just...

"You're still on a reward," she said, like she could read his confusion. That smirk playing at her lips.

"Still?" He couldn't hide his shock.

"I mean unless you–"

"No, no, great." The words tumbled out too fast, making her laugh.

Mental how she could still surprise him like this. One minute proper dom photographer, next offering to stay over like it was nothing.

Though based on her smile, this extended reward probably came with its own set of commands.

"Need to stop at my hotel first," she said, gathering her things. "Get clothes."

"Could always wear mine again." The memory of her in his jersey at Plymouth made his stomach flip.

"Bold of you to assume you've earned that privilege." But she was smiling as they made their way out of the studio. "Besides, Marcel's seen enough of our dynamic for one lifetime."

True that. His brother was probably still traumatized from their last encounter.

April's Ferrari purred to life outside the studio. "Meet me at the Hope Street Hotel then? Unless..." that dangerous smile again. "You want to ride with me?"

The last time she'd driven him anywhere, he'd nearly lost his mind. Something about her controlling the wheel, deciding their speed, choosing when to make him grip his seat...

"I'll follow."

Her laugh echoed across the car park. "Smart boy. Don't want you too worked up before dinner."

The drive to Hope Street had him thinking about how different things were now. Over a month ago he was trying to be some posh London footballer for Sophie. Now he was following a photographer who'd changed his whole life, ready to do whatever she commanded.

Morning light caught the silk of April's bonnet, making her look angelic as she slept. Mad that - considering what she'd done to him last night. His body was still tingling from her rewards, but it was this moment that had him grinning like some teenager.

Thank fuck Marcel had been out when they got back. The sounds she'd pulled from him would've scarred his brother for life. Though the best part came after - April letting him be soft, cuddling into her like some touch-starved puppy.

Dead embarrassing how much he loved that part. The mighty TAA, Liverpool's right back, turning into a cuddle monster the second April opened her arms. But something about being held by her... it was like his brain finally shut up. No Arsenal thoughts, no pressure, no expectations. Just her curls tickling his face (before the bonnet went on) and her heartbeat under his ear.

Mental that really - how someone who could have him begging one minute could make him feel this peaceful the next. Like some kind of mad anxiety medicine, but one that also happened to be the sexiest woman he'd ever seen.

She stirred slightly, those long eyelashes fluttering. Even half asleep she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Proper gone for her, wasn't he?

But watching her sleep in his bed, wearing nothing but that bonnet and a satisfied smile... he couldn't bring himself to care how whipped he looked. Some things were worth looking soft for.

"You're being a weirdo," she muttered, eyes still closed.

"Not a weirdo. You're just beautiful."

That got a laugh out of her. She stretched, all languid grace like some expensive cat, before turning those eyes on him. Her fingers found the strings of his durag, playing with them absently.

"We're so Black," she said, properly giggling now.

"What?"

She gestured between them - her in her silk bonnet, him in his durag. "Look at us."

"Ah... we are." He couldn't help grinning too.

Her fingers traced his features next, lingering on his cheekbones before finding his lips. They were still swollen from last night's activities.

"You really like the taste of me, huh?"

"I love the taste of you." The words came instant, honest. Maybe too honest for this early, but he didn't care.

And he did - everything about April Tanisha-Marley Goodplenty was addictive. Her skin, her essence, just... her. Like some drug he never wanted to quit.

The way she looked at him then - soft but still with that edge that drove him mental. Like she could read every thought in his head and liked what she saw.

Proper gone for her didn't even cover it anymore.

"M'goin' to make breakfast," he said, watching her stretch again. "If you're hungry."

That got her attention - dom mode flickering across her face even as she looked surprised. "You can cook?"

"Just breakfast," he mumbled, feeling proper shy suddenly. Like he hadn't had his face between her legs hours ago.

She propped herself up on an elbow, watching him slip out of bed. His boxers and sweats were somewhere on the floor where she'd thrown them last night.

"Plantains or no plantains?" he asked, pulling them on.

Her eyebrows shot up, properly impressed now. "Yuh nah real Jamaican if yuh nuh eat plantain."

His whole face lit up at her patois, grinning like he'd scored at Anfield. "Mi proper Jamaican, seen?"

The way she looked at him then - mix of dom and something softer. Like he'd surprised her in the best way.

He leaned over the bed to kiss her, tasting morning and last night and something that was just April.

The kitchen was calling though. Time to show her what else this scouse-yardie could do.

His gran would be proper proud, using her recipe to impress a girl. Though maybe not this specific situation.

His massive kitchen felt different this morning — warmer somehow with April padding down behind him. She'd nicked one of his training tops, the fabric falling to mid-thigh. Still had that bonnet on though.

"Proper chef's kitchen this," she said, hopping onto his counter like she owned it. Her legs dangling as she watched him move around the space.

He pulled out the plantains he always kept stocked - some things you just didn't forget from childhood. Proper ripe ones too, black spots all over like his gran taught him.

"Look who's prepared," April's voice had that dom edge creeping back. Like she was proud of him even for this.

His hands moved on autopilot - slicing plantains at an angle, getting the oil right. Years of watching his dad and gran in the kitchen coming back.

"You're actually decent at this," she observed, stealing a piece of raw plantain. "Full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Got many talents me."

"Oh?" That dangerous smile. "Like what you did with your tongue last night?"

He nearly dropped the spatula. Even after everything, she could still make him blush.

"Careful now," she laughed. "Don't want you burnin' my breakfast."

The way she matched his accent, teasing but fond... crazy how she could switch from dom to playful so quick.

But watching her steal more plantain pieces, looking cozy in his kitchen... Yeah, he could get used to this.

"Callaloo in the fridge an' all," he said, pulling out the tin. Not as good as fresh, but it'd do.

"Saltfish too?" April looked really impressed now.

"Course." He was already soaking the fish from last night - some things you learned to prep ahead.

Her eyes lit up watching him work - seasoning the callaloo just right, getting the saltfish ready. Even had some hard dough bread in the freezer.

"Festival?" she asked hopefully.

"Nah, that's pushin' it. Can't have everything."

"Uncultured."

But she was grinning, still perched on his counter like some queen overseeing her domain. The kitchen smelled homey now - plantains frying, callaloo steaming, that specific scent that reminded him of Sunday mornings at his gran's.

"Johnny cakes instead?" he offered.

"Now you're just showing off."

He was though - wanting to prove something about their shared culture maybe. Like yeah, he might be a scouse footballer living in this massive house, but he knew where he came from.

"Your dad teach you all this?"

"Gran mostly. Proper strict about keeping traditions."

April's smile went soft. "Mine too. Used to make me help in the kitchen every weekend."

Mental how something as simple as breakfast could feel this intimate. But watching her steal another piece of plantain, looking at him like he'd done something special just by remembering their roots...

Yeah, this was more than just cooking.

"Rice and peas though," April said, watching him work. "Your gran make it with coconut milk or just water?"

"Coconut milk. What you take me for?"

They went through their list - proper Jamaican food chat. Jerk chicken debates (April swore by Boston Bay style), ackee and saltfish preferences (they both agreed it had to have the right amount of peppers), patty loyalties (he was Tastee ride or die, she claimed Juici was better).

"Curry goat's the best though," Trent said, plating up their breakfast.

"Oxtail."

"Nah, you're wrong."

"Excuse me?" That dom eyebrow went up. "Want to rethink that statement?"

"Even with all due respect, ma'am," he grinned, "curry goat's clear."

April actually rolled her eyes. "Your taste is questionable. Like your crossing sometimes."

"Oi!"

But she was laughing now, proper genuine. Something about her sitting cross-legged on his counter, arguing about food in his training top... it felt right.

"Maybe I'll have to cook for you," she said suddenly. "Show you how oxtail's supposed to taste."

His brain properly short-circuited. April "I don't cook for no man" Goodplenty offering to make him food?

"That good last night, was I?"

Her smile turned wicked. "Guess that tongue's useful for something after all."

Still mental how she could switch from soft to sexy that quick. But watching her steal more plantain off his plate, looking at him like he'd done something special...

Yeah, he'd put that tongue to work any time if it meant more mornings like this.

*****************************************************

Perfect Tuesday this - just him and April chilling between rounds of her having him begging. Crazy that she was his girlfriend now. Like yeah, there were contracts and commands and rewards, but there was also this - her curled into his side on the massive sofa, some Netflix thing playing that neither of them was properly watching.

They'd finally put clothes on after spending most of the day naked. Him in his Nike tracksuit, her in this crop top and leggings combo that had him thinking about starting another round. The way those curves looked in that fabric should be illegal really.

Girlfriend. The word still felt new in his head. Different from the dom/sub thing but connected somehow. Like April had found a way to own every part of him, not just the bits that liked following orders.

The front door clicking open broke through his thoughts. Marcel appeared, took one look at them cuddled up, and pulled a face.

"You two decent this time?"

"Shut up," Trent threw a cushion at him.

"Just checking!" Marcel dodged it easily. "Heard enough last night before I had to leave again."

April just smiled that dom smile of hers. "You're welcome."

"Violation, the pair of you," Marcel muttered, but he was grinning. "Just keep it down yeah? These walls aren't that thick."

"No promises," April said sweetly, making both brothers choke.

Watching her wind up his brother while practically sitting in his lap was perfect - she fit right in.

"There's leftovers in the fridge!" April called out to Marcel as he sauntered off.

The excited "YES!" that came from the kitchen told them he'd found the plantains and saltfish. Trent shot April a look - she was playing house now?

"Fix your face," she said, but her eyes were dancing.

He couldn't help grinning, turning back to whatever was on TV. Mental how domestic this felt.

Marcel appeared again, plate in hand, still chewing. "April, you're welcome here anytime if you're cooking like this. Tastes just like Gran's."

"Actually," April's smile went wicked, "Trent made it."

The way Marcel's eyebrow shot up had Trent bracing himself. He knew that look - his brother was about to be starting shit.

"You're cooking now?" Marcel's voice went high with glee.

"Marcel–"

"You're cooking for a woman?"

Trent ran a hand down his face. Trust his little brother to take it there.

"Mar–"

"I'm telling mum and Ty!" Marcel was practically bouncing. "Holy shit, Trent is really whipped!"

He disappeared, probably running off to violate Trent in the family group chat like the snitch he was.

"You do like to be whipped though." April's voice was pure innocence.

He turned to stare at her.

"What?" She patted his cheek affectionately, laughing. "You do. It's okay to like it, baby."

Fucking hell. The way she could just say shit like that, looking all sweet while properly violating him...

She was the maddest woman he'd ever met.

And he was gone for it.

The Merseyside Derby was always mental, but this was taking the piss. Trent sat on the bench, working the massage gun on his dodgy hamstring, watching Everton park the bus like they were defending the fucking Alamo.

17-1-6 formation. Proper embarrassing that.

When Beto scored in the 11th minute, the Everton crowd lost it. Five minutes felt like forever until Mac equalized, shutting them up.

Then it all kicked off.

Doucoure went in on Curtis like he had a personal vendetta. Nasty challenge that had everyone losing their heads. Before Trent could even process it, both teams were in each other's faces, testosterone going mental.

He was up and in the mix before his brain caught up - hamstring forgotten because that was his teammate getting proper violated. His family.

The whole thing was dead embarrassing really. Grown men squaring up like it was closing time at Liverpool ONE. And April was up there watching all this nonsense from the family box.

Some welcome to her first Merseyside Derby this.

"Sit down!" Slot bellowed at him. "Your hamstring!"

But how could he sit when Curtis was getting targeted like that? When Everton was trying their usual shithouse tactics?

Proper violation, all of it.

And his girlfriend was watching him hobble around on the sidelines like some PE teacher trying to break up a playground fight.

Not exactly the impression he was trying to make.

The second half kicked off with Mo doing what Mo does - a worldie that had the away end going mental. But then Tarkowski equalized and everything went to shit…..again.

CuJo and Doucoure were at it once more - something about a tackle being "too rough." Proper rich coming from Doucoure who'd been trying to end careers all match.

Red cards for both of them.

Slot lost it completely - arms going everywhere like one of them inflatable things outside car dealerships. The fourth official didn't rate it though.

Red card for the gaffer too.

What the actual fuck was this match?

By full time, Trent's hamstring was screaming from all the times he'd jumped up to get involved. 2-2 draw felt like a violation after all that drama.

The away dressing room was dead silent until Virgil stood up. Their captain looked proper fuming.

"What the fuck was that?" His voice was scary calm. "Acting like children out there. All of you."

No one dared speak. Even Mo was studying his boots.

"Derby or not, we're Liverpool Football Club. We don't lose our heads like that."

Trent caught Curtis's eye across the room. Both of them proper chastised.

"Sort yourselves out. Because that..." Virgil shook his head. "That was embarrassing."

He wasn't wrong. And somewhere upstairs, April had watched that whole circus.

A long night ahead explaining this one.

The shower room was tense - everyone still processing Virgil's words and that match. Trent's hamstring was giving him grief from all the times he'd jumped up during the chaos. Stupid that, making it worse when he was supposed to be resting.

"Your girl's waiting outside," Robbo grinned as he left, hair still damp from the shower.

The lads all turned to stare at Trent, who was trying to get his tracksuit on without aggravating his hamstring more. The way they were smirking, you'd think they hadn't just got bollocked by their captain.

April was indeed waiting, looking editorial even in casual clothes, that fucking lollipop in her mouth again. The way she was working it had him forgetting about his hamstring for a second. But the second she saw him...

"Yuh mad or wha?" Her patois came out sharp. "Jumpin' round like pickney when yuh hamstring mash up?"

Something about her telling him off in patois was doing things to his head. Shouldn't be hot, but it was. The way her accent got stronger when she was vexed.

"Yuh supposed to rest, but no. Had to play big man." Her voice was eerily calm, which somehow made it worse. "Now di injury worse dan before. Like yuh nuh have sense."

Then Virgil walked out, followed by Mo and Ibou, and April switched up so fast it gave Trent whiplash. Her whole face brightened, voice going sweet as anything. That dom energy vanishing like it was never there.

"Hi boys!" Like she hadn't just been scalding him in Jamaican. Like she hadn't been ready to give him the telling off of his life.

The way she smiled at Virgil had Trent confused - especially when his captain smiled back, all that locker room fury gone. Gone where? What was this?

"Take care of this one," Virgil said as April hugged him goodbye. Then, in what he thought was a whisper but Trent definitely heard: "Don't punish him too harsh."

Trent's eyes went proper wide. What the actual fuck? Since when did his captain know about...

April just rolled her eyes at Virgil's comment, but there was something there - like they shared some secret Trent wasn't in on. Some inside joke he wasn't part of.

After the others left, Trent just stood there, brain trying to process what he'd just witnessed. His captain and his dom having some sort of understanding? About punishment?

"What the actual fuck was that?"

April just popped the lollipop back in her mouth, smirking. "Get in the car. We need to discuss your behavior."

Proper mad, this woman. The way she could switch between personas like that - angry Jamaican girlfriend to sweet WAG to dom in the space of minutes.

But watching her walk ahead of him, already planning whatever punishment she had in mind... yeah, he was even more gone for her now.

Though he really needed to figure out what was going on with Virgil.

A lad stopped them before they reached the Ferrari - a young guy with a Liverpool jersey and phone ready.

"Trent mate! Could I get a quick photo?"

His hamstring was screaming and April's punishment was waiting, but some things you just did. Proper part of the job.

"Your girlfriend's proper fit," the lad said as Trent signed his jersey. Then, with that dumb confidence only certain men had: "If you don't treat her right, I will."

Trent's jaw clenched, but April's hand was already on his chest. Looked sweet to anyone watching, but he could feel the warning in her touch.

"That's sweet," she said, voice dripping honey but eyes pure danger. "But I'm good where I am. Besides…" her smile went sharp. "You couldn't handle me."

The lad actually brightened at that, like the melt he was. Nudged Trent's shoulder with a grin. "Mate, keep this one yeah?"

Yeah, I'm trying to, Trent thought, watching April walk ahead to the car.

If only this muppet knew exactly what "handling" April meant. Man probably couldn't last five minutes following her commands.

But watching her slide into the driver's seat, that dom energy already creeping back…

Yeah, he'd keep her alright. If she let him.

Trent winced putting his duffel in the trunk, hamstring proper giving him grief now, then slid into the passenger's side. The stadium lights were fading behind them as April's Ferrari purred to life, her fingers drumming on the steering wheel like she was composing her thoughts.

"I really don't like seeing you hobble around when you're not at one hundred percent," she started as they pulled out of the lot. Liverpool's nighttime traffic moved around them, street lights and shop fronts painting shadows across her face, making her look even more intimidating somehow. The lollipop was gone now, but her lips still looked red from it.

"But CuJo-"

"Don't interrupt me."

"Yes, ma'am."

She was calmer now though, voice less sharp as she drove. The Ferrari handled like it was made for her, just like everything else in her life. "You weren't being a good boy. Not thinking things through. Though…" her tone softened slightly. "I understand wanting to help Curtis. That match was a proper clusterfuck."

"Tell me about it."

"And Slot getting a red? Who does that? In a derby of all matches?"

"Refs must've been on Everton's payroll."

"Wouldn't put it past them. That whole match was a circus."

The silence stretched for a moment, broken only by the engine's purr and distant city noise. Trent couldn't help himself though - that interaction outside the dressing room was doing his head in. "So… that thing with Virgil…"

"Jealous?" Her smile was knowing, catching the glow of passing headlights.

"No," he said too quickly. But he was though - what kind of secret understanding did they have? What inside joke was he missing?

"He's a cool person," she said like she was reading his mind again. "And his wife is very cool."

The way she emphasized 'very' made his ears perk up. Something about her tone… Wait…

"April…" He squinted at her profile, illuminated by the dashboard lights.

"Yes, baby?" So casual as she took a turn, the Ferrari handling like an extension of her will.

"What is going on?"

Her chuckle was dark, echoing in the car's intimate space. "With what, baby? Speak plainly."

Fine. "Did you know Virgil before-" he gestured between them, at this thing they had become.

"Nope, never met him before our arrangement." She drove in silence for a few seconds, the city moving past their windows. "But… I had my… uh, let's call them 'dom senses' I guess, about Virgil. And I met his wife and my senses were right. As usual."

What the actual fuck? Was she saying his captain-

"My guess is he's a switch, given his wife's… tendencies. She's very assertive, isn't she? Very sure of herself, takes lead… remind you of someone?"

Holy shit.

His captain's wife was literally April.

"No fucking way." He scoffed. Not Virgil. Not his massive, intimidating captain. The man who'd just been properly bollocking them in the dressing room.

"The evidence is there, baby." Her smile was pure evil now, reflected in the windscreen. "Makes sense to me because a dom/dom together could never work, but a dom/switch… oh yes…"

His brain was properly broken now. His captain… his massive, intimidating captain…

Every interaction they'd had lately started replaying in his head. The knowing looks, the comments about April being "good for him," that whispered line about punishment…

His brain was still trying to catch up as they drove through his neighborhood. Like one of those videos where someone points out something obvious and suddenly you can't unsee it.

Virgil and his wife. All those "yes dear" moments at team gatherings. The way she'd give him that look and he'd just… comply. Everyone just thought it was normal marriage stuff, but now…

"How did I not see it before?" The words came out without permission.

April's laugh was knowing. "Because you weren't looking for it. But think about it - the way he leads on the pitch but follows her lead at home. How he can switch between commanding the team and taking direction."

Fucking hell. Even the word 'switch' hit different now.

"Those training sessions where he's proper strict…" Trent's mind was racing. "Then at dinner parties he's all 'whatever you say, love.'"

"Starting to get it now?"

All those times Virgil had seemed to understand about him and April. The comments about her being good for him. That knowing look when April commanded attention in a room.

His captain was a switch. His massive, intimidating, tattooed, throw-you-under-the-bus-in-training captain liked being told what to do by his wife.

God, he didn't know if he could ever look at him the same ever again.

"Your face right now," April was proper enjoying this. "Processing that your big strong captain isn't always in charge?"

"This is…" He couldn't even finish the thought.

"Welcome to the lifestyle, baby." Her hand found his thigh. "There's a lot you haven't noticed yet."

His head snapped toward her. "What else?"

But that smile just turned wicked as she drove on.

Proper violation, this woman. Always keeping him guessing.

Their conversation about Virgil had him so fucked up he barely noticed they'd reached his place until April was punching in his gate code. Mental that - how naturally she did it now, like she'd been doing it forever.

The Ferrari's headlights swept across his massive house as she pulled into the drive. Everything looked proper quiet - no lights on inside. Marcel must be out again.

The engine died, leaving them in this weird silence. April's hand moved to his thigh, thumb making these small circles that had his brain short-circuiting between thoughts of Virgil's apparent submissive side and what punishment she had planned for his match behavior.

"Still processing?" Her voice was pure amusement.

"Can't believe I never noticed."

"You'll start seeing it everywhere now." She turned to face him, and even in the dark her eyes had that dangerous glint. "But right now… we need to discuss your hamstring situation."

The way she said 'discuss' made his stomach flip.

"Inside." Not a suggestion. "We have things to sort out."

His hamstring might be fucked, but he'd never moved faster.

******************************************************

The PT's hands were working his hamstring while Trent scrolled through Instagram, trying not to wince. Someone had actually managed to film April going off on him in patois outside the dressing room - proper HD quality too. His face in it was embarrassing, looking at her like she hung the moon even while she was telling him off.

The comments were going proper mental:

"Mi nuh see no chancla but bro ducking like his Jamaican mom bout to launch one 😭" "Every yardie watching this having war flashbacks" "He's looking at her like 'yes mommy sorry mommy' 💀" "That's a proper Liverpool relationship if I ever saw one" "Scouse man getting checked by his girl, nothing new here" "Someone tell her to yell at me next PLEASE" "TAA found his match finally" "The way he's just accepting the cussing 😂" "No English subtitles needed, that tone is universal" "My Jamaican gran watching this like 'she too soft with him'"

Then there were the confused ones: "What language is this???" "Is he okay? She seems aggressive" "Someone translate please!"

The Liverpool fans were having a proper field day: "Local lad gets proper telling off, tale as old as time" "That's how we show love on Merseyside" "Only in Liverpool do we call this romance 😍"

Last night's punishment hadn't been too harsh - his hamstring saved him from anything physical, but having to write "I will make responsible decisions while injured" one hundred times like some naughty schoolboy… proper humiliating that. April had sat there watching him write each line, making him start over if his handwriting got sloppy.

Though he'd be lying if he said he hadn't enjoyed it a bit. Something about her overseeing his punishment, being strict but caring…

The PT room door opened and Trent nearly dropped his phone. Virgil walked in, all captain's presence, and everything got awkward.

How do you look your captain in the eye after finding out he might be a switch? After realizing all those "yes dear" moments had deeper meaning? After understanding why he always seemed to get April's commands?

"Hamstring okay?" Virgil asked, casual as anything. Like he hadn't whispered about punishments to April last night.

"Yeah…" Trent's voice came out weird. "Just… getting treatment."

"April sort you out last night?"

The knowing look in Virgil's eye had Trent wanting to disappear into the massage table. Every interaction they'd ever had was replaying in his head now, filtered through this new understanding.

"Nothing too harsh I hope?" Virgil continued, and Trent could swear he was enjoying this. "Given the injury."

"Just… lines."

"Ah." That knowing smile again. "Classic."

Proper violation, this whole situation. His captain giving him that look, probably thinking about his own experiences with discipline…

Nope. Not going there. Some things you just didn't need to know about your captain.

"Lines are better than what my wi-" Virgil caught himself, clearing his throat. "Than what you probably expected."

Trent's brain properly short-circuited. Was his captain actually about to share…?

"Listen," Virgil sat on the treatment table next to him, voice going quieter. "About last night…"

"We don't have to-"

"No, we do." Captain voice now. "Because you're looking at me like I've grown two heads and we need to sort this."

The PT had mysteriously disappeared, probably sensing this wasn't for their ears.

"April told you, didn't she?" Virgil wasn't really asking. "About her… suspicions?" Trent nodded, not trusting his voice. "Good. Then we can skip the awkward bit." Virgil actually grinned. "Because watching you try to process this is painful."

"But you're…" Trent gestured vaguely at all of Virgil. "You know. You."

"And? Dom at work, different at home. You telling me you don't understand that now?"

Well fuck. When he put it like that…

"Just…" Virgil stood up, back to captain mode. "Don't let it affect things on the pitch. What we do in private is private."

"Yes cap- sir- uh…"

Virgil's laugh echoed through the PT room. "Now you're just taking the piss."

But something had shifted between them. Some new understanding that went beyond captain and player.

"Oh, and Trent?"

"Yeah?"

"Lines are just the start mate. Trust me."

Fucking hell.

Trent sat there for a second after Virgil left, still feeling like his brain was running five minutes behind the conversation.

Lines are just the start, mate. Trust me.

Trust him?

He scrubbed a hand down his face, exhaling sharply. How the fuck was he supposed to process all of that? Virgil — his captain, his mentor — had just casually confirmed what April had suspected, and now, apparently, they shared... what? An understanding? Some secret code of conduct?

Trent wasn’t even sure how to feel about it, except he knew his brain was running through the last twenty-four hours on a loop, connecting things that he probably wouldn’t have noticed before. The way Virgil handled things. The quiet control. The way people listened to him without question. The way he never raised his voice, never needed to.

Dom at work, different at home.

The words settled in his gut, heavy but not unwelcome. If he’d had any doubts before, they were gone now.

A slow smirk curled at the edge of his lips. April was going to lose her mind when he told her.

Speaking of…

His phone buzzed on the table next to him.

April: You alive? Or did Virgil eat you alive for breakfast?

Trent: Debatable.

The typing bubbles popped up immediately, disappearing just as fast.

April: Need me to come kiss it better?

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head.

Trent: You just wanna know what he said.

April: ...Maybe.

Yeah, she was going to eat this up.

Trent stretched his arms over his head, rolling out the tension in his shoulders. His muscles ached still, but under it was something else, something looser. Like he’d passed some weird initiation he hadn’t even known he was part of.

His phone buzzed again.

April: Come home and tell me everything.

His dick twitched in his shorts. Jesus, this woman.

Trent: You’re actually evil.

April: And yet you love it.

She had him there.

He grabbed his things and headed out, already thinking of the things he could get her back for when he got home.

Maybe he'd make her beg for it this time, as if she'd ever let him, of course.

..............tbd

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