#Impact Women's Championship

[litafan4ever]

Lita Wins Her First WWE Women's Championship (WWE Monday Night Raw - August 21, 2000)

[wrestlingmgc]

Impact Knockouts World Champion Jordynne Grace

[machobusta]

Gail Kim presents the GFW Women’s Championship and the Impact Wrestling Knockouts Championship before the unification match between Rosemary and Sienna.

Slammiversary XV July 2, 2017

[could-they-be-a-pro-wrestler]

This is a poll blog that asks the question…could your favorite fictional character be a pro wrestler? Would you like to submit a character? Click this link if you do!

[coochiequeens]

While information on Walmsley is limited, Bissonnette says he has absolutely no history fighting against women in Canadian tournaments, suggesting his identification into women’s sport was recent" Officials would have allowed a woman to go into a match without any hint that she was up against a male if her coach didn't tell her ONE HOUR before the match

By Anna Slatz November 15, 2023

A female boxer withdrew from a provincial championship in Quebec after learning that her opponent was biologically male, leading to him winning the competition by default. Dr. Katia Bissonnette of Saguenay says she was matched against transgender fighter Mya Walmsley with no notice.

The 2023 Provincial Golden Glove Championship took place on October 27 and 29 in Victoriaville, Quebec, hosted by the Quebec Boxing Federation in collaboration with the KO-96 boxing club. But the tournament, which intended to give novices the opportunity to qualify for the Canadian Championship in December, attracted controversy after Bisonnette announced her withdrawal.

Speaking to Reduxx, Bissonnette, who works as a psychologist in Jonquière, explains that she learned Walmsley was male one hour before she was set to step in the ring.

“I came down from my hotel room to head towards the room where all the boxers were warming up. My coach suddenly took me aside and told me he received information by text message, which he had then validated, that my opponent was not a woman by birth. We did not have any other additional information,” she says.

While information on Walmsley is limited, Bissonnette says he has absolutely no history fighting against women in Canadian tournaments, suggesting his identification into women’s sport was recent. Walmsley is originally from Australia, but moved to Canada around 2 years ago to attend Concordia University.

“[Walmsley] would have boxed as a man in Australia,” Bissonnette says. “In Quebec, on his file, it is mentioned that he had 0 fights as a woman.”

Since moving to Canada, Walmsley has been involved in political activism at the University-level as a Master’s student and teaching assistant in the philosophy department. Recent interviews with Walmsley show he has an overtly masculine appearance.

Following Bissonnette’s withdrawal, Walmsley issued a statement to the press accusing her of “outing” him and warning that similar actions would have a negative impact on female athletes.

“Rather than turning to me, my coach or the Quebec Olympic Boxing Federation for more information, she decided to turn directly to the media to out me,” wrote Walmsley. “This kind of behavior puts athletes at risk of being excluded or receiving personal attacks based on hearsay … I am afraid that this type of accusation could eventually be used to delegitimize athletes in the women’s category, and justify arbitrary and invasive regulations.”

Walmsley went on to assert that the best policy for gender self-identification in sport was for athletes to “trust” each other, and defer to coaches and policies in assumption that matches were made fairly.

But Bissonnette rejects Walmsley’s apparent call for handshake-based policies, noting that even under established guidelines it was unclear how he had been allowed to enter the match.

“The rule issued from Boxing Canada to the Quebec Boxing Federation was not to reveal that the opponent was transsexual, so that the latter would not be discriminated against. However, after confirmation, this policy only applies when a sex change has taken place before puberty,” she explains, noting that because Walmsley is a foreign national, his transition history is entirely unclear.

Following Bissonnette’s withdrawal, the competition was unable to find another woman in the super welterweight category (165lbs) to match against Walmsley, and he won by default.

The Quebec Boxing Federation was reportedly aware of Walmsley’s biological sex, but justified the fight by stating they had chosen an appropriate referee for the match. Ultimately, Bissonnette says her decision to withdraw came down to safety.

“According to a study, a male blow has 163% more impact than a women’s, even adjusted for weight,” she says, referring to a 2020 study on strength published by researchers at the University of Utah. “In the group studied, the weakest man remains physically superior to the strongest woman.”

Bissonnette goes on to note that women’s participation in combat sports is relatively recent, but may not last much longer if females are continuously paired up to fight males.

“Women shouldn’t have to bear the physical and psychological risks brought by a man’s decisions regarding his personal life and identity,” she continues. “There should be two categories: biological male and female.”

Bissonnette’s decision to refuse to fight Walmsley comes on the heels of several instances of similar protests by women across the sporting world.

As previously reported by Reduxx, women abandoned a Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu tournament in Georgia last month in protest of the participation of multiple trans-identified males. As a result, one of the men took home four gold medals in the women’s category, and, in one of the divisions, only males were on the winner’s podium.

Female martial artists Jayden Alexander and Ansleigh Wilk spoke out against the North American Grappling Association (NAGA) for their gender self-identification policy, sparking a wildfire of backlash that ultimately resulted in NAGA fully segregating the divisions based on biological sex with ��no exceptions.”

On November 13, a female pool player in England caused similar controversy after walking away from the table during a tournament in Wales in apparent protest of a trans-identified male who was competing.

[ultradude13]

Trinity Fatu

[daminouspurity]

NXT Battleground 2024 NXT Women's Championship Roxanne Perez vs. Jordynne Grace Predictions WWE 2K24

[adascore]

The Missed Swap

pairing: alexia putellas x england!reader

warnings: swearing. reader receives a push. jealous alexia. mentions of alexia doing her acl.

author's note: finally finished this!! love writing about the complexity of their rivalry!

part 1 | masterlist

•••••••

The press conference room was filled with all sorts of journalists; Spaniards, Brits or just avid women's football researchers who were hyped about the upcoming friendly between Spain and England.

Between Y/N and Alexia rested only a few metres, their respective coaches accompanying them. Sarina and her captain sat composed waiting on the start of the conference, while their opposition exuded a calm confidence that would have intimidated any other pair.

Despite the heartwarming interaction at the Champions League final a month prior, there was no evidence of any kind of friendship as the two star players avoided each other's eyes, and any traces of the camaraderie from Turin seemed distant.

In an attempt to break the ice, Alexia discreetly sought a glance from the striker, hoping for a sign of recognition or acknowledgment, but the Spaniard was only met with a polite smile from Sarina.

The midfielder felt almost stupid for having looked forward to this, seeing her again after Turin. She'd hoped it was the start of a change, one where they could talk to one another without the forced formalities and could even become friends.

Yeah, she felt incredibly stupid.

The moderator signaled the start of the pre-match press conference. ''Good morning, everyone. Welcome to the press conference with Spain coach and captain Jorge Vilda and Alexia Putellas, as well as England coach and captain Sarina Wiegman and Y/N Y/L. We are going to start with the questions.''

The first few minutes were standard; asking about the expectations, main thoughts about the opposition, how they were all feeling about the upcoming European Championships, etc. The four of them answered all the questions directly and in a diplomatic manner.

However, it was a certain Spanish journalist that decided to shake things up. ''Hello, everyone. This question is for Alexia,'' the man spoke up in his native language, ''after the Champions League final, we witnessed, what seemed, an emotional interaction between you and Y/N. Would you say your relationship has changed since then? Or was it just a moment for the camera's? Will it have any impact on the game tomorrow?''

Alexia maintained her diplomatic tone, carefully choosing her words. ''Good morning. The final in Turin was an intense and emotional moment for both of our teams. With Y/N, we share respect for football, the game. Now, we are here to represent our countries in preparation for the Euro's.''

The reporter, undeterred by the captain's media-trained answer, pressed with a sly smile. ''But is there a good relationship between you two? There seemed to have been a connection of some sorts.''

''I understand there might be interest in our personal relationship, but I want to focus on our match tomorrow.'' She answered with poise, not entertaining the controversy he was trying to stir.

Y/N couldn't help but smirk at the journalist's persistence. Despite not understand their language, it was clear Alexia hadn't given him the satisfaction of actually answering his question.

The moderator urged for someone else to take the microphone, quickly wanting to move on before it became more of an issue. The word was then given to an English journalist.

''Hi, for the Daily Mail,'' he greeted them, Y/N having to fight the urge to roll her eyes at the mention of for which news outlet he worked for, ''for Y/N, uh, many of the players of the Spanish team play for Barcelona, and we all saw what happened last month. Do you think their defeat had something to do with your presence or maybe that the rivalry between you and Alexia Putellas was a factor in that?''

Y/N raised an eyebrow at the loaded question, but remained composed. ''Every match is different, and Spain is also different from Barcelona. Football is a team sport, and the outcome of a match depends on a lot of different factors. I don't think it is fair to attribute the result of a match to the presence or absence of a single player. I mean- I'm a footballer, not a witch.'' She concluded her answer with a lighthearted joke, relieved it caused some of the tension in the room to disappear.

''A question for both the coaches,'' the conference moved on again, ''how do each of you feel about another meeting between Alexia and Y/N? They're not just the star players of your teams, but also of women's football. Does it add any excitement or pressure to the match?''

Sarina responded first. ''Well, every match is a great opportunity to have good battles, as a group or as individuals. They're both exceptional talents so it will be a treat to watch for all of us, but the main focus is on the team performance and preparing for the European Championship next month.''

Jorge nodded, seemingly agreeing. ''Individual matchups add excitement, but the success of the team remains a priority.''

The press conference concluded not much later, the four of them alleviated they could get up and leave.

As they exited, Y/N and Alexia found themselves walking side by side, albeit a bit awkwardly. The corridor felt like a neutral ground, free from the scrutiny of the media.

“They're always searching for stuff…” Y/N broke the silence, still somewhat frustrated over the questions about their personal relationship.

Alexia nodded in agreement, her expression reflecting a similar feeling. “Yeah, so stupid.”

The quietness returned, both women unsure of what to say.

“Congrats on winning the league again, by the way.” Alexia rambled, the words leaving her mouth like a speed train.

Y/N smiled, appreciating the attempt to continue the conversation. “Thanks, you too.”

“Thank you.” The midfielder hesitated, a subtle struggle visible on her face.

Alexia sighed, searching for the right words. “Look, about Turin…”

Y/N raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “What about it?”

There was a pause as they walked, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air.

“I wanted to talk more, you know, after the match.” She admitted, a hint of vulnerability in her voice.

The England captain slowly nodded. “Ah, yeah, it looked like that, but then your coach whisked you away.” She awkwardly laughed.

“I don't know why he did that, it probably felt as weird to me as it did to you,” Alexia responded, “but I just wanted to thank you for your words, cause… you didn't have to come up to me, but you did.”

Y/N smiled warmly. “You really don't have to thank me. I know what it's like as captain, it's tough. It just felt like the right thing to do.”

“What you said about our growth and stuff, it means more than you think, you know, to the team.” The Spaniard quickly added the last bit, not wanting to get too sentimental.

“I'm glad if it brought a bit of comfort to your team. I meant it, you guys have really made a great transition.” Y/N wasn't by any means a great loser, but she would always give a team credit when it's due.

Alexia nodded appreciatively. “Thanks. I'm, uh, excited about tomorrow.”

The England captain grinned, feeling a subtle shift in their dynamic. "Yeah, it should be a good game.''

“Yes, it should. Hopefully it goes my way this time.''

Y/N loudly laughed at Alexia's words, taking the Barcelona midfielder by surprise. ''I didn't know you were this funny, Putellas.''

Alexia chuckled, a genuine smile breaking through.

“Y/N…”

The striker turned back to where the call of her name came from, and she was met with the hesitant face of Sarina.

She gave her coach a hand motion that said ‘I'm right there, let me wrap this up'. The Dutchwoman seemed to understand as she gave both players a nod.

“Uh, I gotta go- team stuff, but I'll see you tomorrow then.” Y/N bid goodbye.

“Yeah, tomorrow.”

Alexia watched her rival leave, eyes roaming over her athletic figure that was adorned in an England training kit that seemed to highlight every curve of her body.

The Spaniard had to shake herself out of her daze, not knowing what came over her.

As she turned to head in the opposite direction, she refocused herself on the game ahead and realized she had to put aside the emotions and complexities that seemed to find her every time she encountered the England captain.

It had already cost her one match, she wouldn't dare let it happen again.

The score wasn't reflective of how exciting and high-pressing the match actually was. Neither side had scored, but there had been plenty of great chances.

It also included a lot of fouls, specifically on the English captain by the Spanish players.

Y/N found herself on the receiving end of another rough challenge, this time from Carmona.

As the referee's whistle pierced through the stadium, signaling the foul, Y/N couldn't contain her frustration. “Fucking cunt.” She muttered under her breath.

The Real Madrid defender, catching wind of the insult, didn't take it lightly. “What did you say?” She exclaimed, responding with a push.

The striker didn't budge, simply giving her an unimpressed look. “I said you're a fucking cunt.” She repeated her words, not one bit intimidated.

The tension escalated, and the players from both teams rushed to get involved.

More of the Spanish players stepped in to defend the young player, throwing insults at Y/N. While the England players tried to form a protective barrier around their captain, not shy of vulgar words themselves.

Amidst the chaos, Alexia took a step forward, signaling to her Spanish teammates to calm down. “That's enough.” She told Olga, placing herself in-between the Brit and the defender.

“Let it go, it's just a friendly. No need for this.” Her authoritative tone resonated, and she managed to diffuse the situation.

Olga, still visibly upset, reluctantly stepped back, but mumbled some more Spanish swear words that had Patri giving her a light push.

Alexia, with an apologetic look, turned around to address Y/N, but Rachel intervened, pulling her captain away from the aftermath of the chaos.

“We need to take more advantage of the counterattacks, we're just giving everything away.” Rachel immediately focused back on the game, whispering her thoughts.

Y/N caught Alexia's intention, but let it go, redirecting her attention to the unfolding match.

In a retaliatory turn of events, Georgia committed a foul against Alexia.

The England captain didn't want it to escalate the way it had only a few minutes before, so she quickly addressed her teammate.

“G, tone it down!”

The midfielder gave a thumbs up and an apology to Alexia, which the Spaniard accepted.

The final whistle blew, ending the intense encounter with a draw. Both sides were disappointed not to walk away with the win, but the result felt right to the match.

As the players exchanged handshakes and words of sportsmanship, Y/N and Alexia found themselves facing each other once more.

“Good match.” They chorused, shaking hands with a content smile.

“I guess it didn't really go your way this time.” Y/N chuckled, recalling Alexia's words from the day before.

The midfielder laughed, relieved there was no tension between them anymore. “It was tough today. Great defense from your team.”

“Thanks, your attacks warranted it.” The Brit playfully rolled her eyes.

They walked together towards the officials to shake their hands, making small talk about the match.

“Hey… your shirt…” Y/N switched topics, pointing at the red Spain jersey.

“Yeah?” Alexia's eyes widened slightly, almost beaming at the fact that the striker would want to swap shirts.

“My teammate, Katie, she's quite the fan and would you do me a favor and like, ask her to exchange kits? She didn't get to play today and it would really cheer her up.”

A tinge of red colored Alexia's cheeks as she realized her misinterpretation. “Oh, uh, yeah, no problem.”

“You don't have to, if you want to keep the shirt.” Y/N noticed the slight expression change in the opposition's face.

“No, I really want to. I'll ask her, no big deal.” Alexia quickly brushed it off, embarrassed by her own thoughts.

“Thank you so much, it will mean a lot to her. Usually she's a chatterbox, but…” The striker trailed off.

Alexia nodded, finding it a sweet gesture of the rivaling captain.

“Uh, actually, could you do the same? One of the younger girls, Claudia, really looks up to you and would appreciate the shirt.”

The midfielder saw her younger teammate lingering not too far from where they were standing, not subtle in observing the captains' interaction.

“She's the small girl that's standing behind you.” Alexia smiled, laughing as Pina pretended to look at the crowd once she caught her Barcelona teammate watching her.

Y/N followed her eyes and gave Claudia a wave, which the girl shyly returned.

“I‘ll ask as well,” she softly responded, “uh, so I'll see you in the Euro's final then?” Y/N grinned, teasingly.

“Yeah, I'll see you there.”

As they parted ways, each player headed toward the teammate they had promised to exchange shirts with.

“ALEXIA PUTELLAS TEARS ACL BEFORE WOMEN's EUROS”

Y/N read the headline in utter shock, in disbelief that the Spain captain had tore her ACL in training, the day before the start of the tournament.

“You heard about Putellas?” Jill interrupted her thoughts, joining her in the lounge that had been set up for the team.

“Yeah.” She nodded, closing her phone.

“I feel for her.” The Manchester City player sympathized.

Y/N remained quiet, wondering how Alexia was doing- mentally then.

“Are you two friends?” Jill inquired, confused by the captain's silence.

She looked at her older friend, lifting her shoulders. “I don't know. We're not enemies.”

Intrigued by the cryptic response, Jill couldn't resist probing further. “You guys were laughing with each other after the Spain match.”

“Yeah, and?” Y/N chuckled, uncomfortable by her teammate's stare.

The midfielder raised an eyebrow. “What's the story?”

“There is no story, we just had a laugh.” The captain retorted.

“You used to shut down like a toddler whenever someone mentioned her, and now you're acting like buddies together. What happened, Cap?” Jill was properly confused on what the status was with the two football stars.

“I won, that's what happened.” Y/N opened her phone again, hoping her response was enough to satisfy Jill's curiosity.

The older one frowned. “Won what?”

“I won the final. Champions League. She lost.” It was a vague clarification, they both knew that.

“And that makes you friends?”

Y/N sighed, sensing the skepticism in Jill's tone. “You don't get it, Scott- be glad that you don't.”

“So what if you hadn't won?” Jill asked, a subtle gravity behind her question.

Y/N took a moment before responding, contemplating the hypothetical scenario. “There was no way I would have lost that final. Not in a hundred years.”

“So humble you are.” Her teammate sarcastically commented.

The captain dramatically winked at the older woman.

“But seriously… what is that?” Jill made a gesture with her hand, as if she was physically pointing between her and Alexia.

“Don't know, I guess she isn't as pretentious as I thought she was.” Y/N answered, recognizing the wrong perspective she had of the Spaniard.

Jill raised an eyebrow. “She probably thought the same of you.” She laughed.

“I guess so.” The younger player admitted. “Should I send her a message? Like wishing her well or something?” Y/N asked Jill, holding up her phone.

She looked at the striker's phone, considering the suggestion. “Why not? I can't think of one player who wouldn't be happy to get a message from you.”

“Alright…” Y/N mumbled, opening Instagram and pulling up Alexia's account.

Jill glanced at her screen. “You don't even follow her!” She scoffed.

The captain looked from her screen to Jill, and back to her screen. “Yeah, and?”

“Follow her, and send the message.” The midfielder instructed.

“Are you my boss?” Y/N playfully rolled her eyes, but followed up on Jill's instruction.

| Y/N.Y/L: hey, heard about the injury. hope you're doing alright, and know that a lot of people are behind you. take care ❤️

“Good enough for Miss Scott?” Y/N asked her teammate.

Jill nodded, approvingly. “Look at you, extending an olive branch.'' She teased.

''An olive branch? We never had any problems.'' The younger one frowned, as an olive branch usually meant for there to have been a conflict.

The Manchester City player chuckled at her confusion. ''Well, it's a nice gesture. I'm sure she'll appreciate it.''

Y/N shrugged. ''It's a serious injury, she's at least out for like 8-9 months. I can't imagine her not playing with Spain and Barca.''

Jill nodded, a similar sympathetic look on her face. ''Yeah, I just hope she comes out better of it.''

''She will.'' Y/N said, voice full of confidence.

It was still Alexia. La Reina. She would not be taken down easily.

Meanwhile, freshly arrived in her home country, Alexia finally unlocked her phone after a long and hectic day. A certain notification stood out, it couldn't be could it?

She could feel her heartbeat as she saw the message from Y/N. She hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to open it immediately or not. Alexia edged herself, answering everyone else's messages before getting to the Brit's.

After an eternity, she decided to open and read it as her curiosity got the better of her.

Alexia's eyes softened as she read over the words. Y/N's DM was not something that anyone hadn't told her before, but her rivaling captain had taken the time to wish her well and that meant more than Alexia was ready to admit yet.

| alexiaputellas: hey, I am back home now so doing better! thank you for your words and good luck at the tournament! ❤️

The captain stared at her phone, pondering on how their relationship had changed so much- at least to the point where they were sending messages to one another. Yet, here they were, exchanging words beyond the constraints of the game.

She couldn't deny the intrigue she had towards the striker. The phenomenon that was the England captain was unexplored territory for the Spaniard. Everything she had though before about Y/N all seemed to fade as she got more and more glimpses of who her rival actually was.

As Alexia wondered about the new dynamics, her train of thought was interrupted by a new notification.

| Y/N.Y/L: that's great to her! too bad we can't meet in the final now

The Catalan smiled, her fingers swiftly moving over the screen to compose a reply.

| alexiaputellas: yeah, maybe another time!

| alexiaputellas: if you do play against Spain, I don't want you to win, though 😉

| Y/N.Y/L: ooooohhhh, im gonna play extra harder against them now :)

| Y/N.Y/L: are you coming back to England to watch them?

| alexiaputellas: yes, after I've had my surgery!

| Y/N.Y/L: good luck with that, btw

| alexiaputellas: thank you ☺

The messages continued on for a while, mostly staying on the joking side. Alexia appreciated the unexpected distraction Y/N provided for her, her torn knee having become forgotten for just a few moments.

Their next meeting came 2 weeks later as England took on Spain in the quarterfinals. Y/N was wary about meeting their team still quite early on in the tournament, but it would be a great test for them, and not having Alexia on the pitch could only be a benefit to the English- even if it happened due to unfortunate circumstances.

The match was intense, reminiscent of their friendly match the month before. In the 54th minute, England fell behind, conceding a goal. The pressure only intensified as the entire team and stadium looked at their captain, in serious need of a solution.

Y/N screamed more motivation at her teammates, applauding and praising every pass and chance they made. Fortunately, Ella managed to equalize, and Georgia had everyone going crazy as she put one extra in the net during extra time.

The striker jumped into the young midfielder's arms, yelling inaudible things as they celebrated her world of a goal. ''You're a legend, G!''

''Come on, girls! We can do this!'' Millie exclaimed, clapping her hands to hype everyone up to keep their lead.

''Keep pressuring them! It's in our hands now! You're doing amazing!'' Y/N joined in, her infectious energy working on the team as they all nodded and got back to their spots on the pitch.

The whistle blew and the entire squad could feel a huge weight leaving their shoulders, relieved this tribulation was over and they could focus on the semifinals.

In the post-match rituals, Y/N glanced towards the Spanish team. A bittersweet realization struck her- the victory was nice, but a part of the competition was missing without the direct face-off with the Spanish captain. She almost forgot her colleague would not be on the pitch to shake hands with, or to analyze the match with.

She tried finding her in the crowd, but Alexia must have already made an escape to the locker rooms. The Brit didn't blame her, she probably didn't want to stick around to see a rival team celebrating knocking their team out. 

Half an hour later, Alexia watched Irene stroll into their changing rooms- one of the last players to arrive, holding a white England shirt in her hand.

Her curiosity got the better of her and she approached her fellow captain on the other side of the room. ''Irene, who did you swap with?'' She asked.

Irene grinned, unfolding the jersey as Y/N's name and number was displayed in front of Alexia's eyes. ''Our favorite girl,'' Irene sarcastically said, the England player had caused a lot of damage to both of the women, on club and international level, ''she asked me. You just can't say no to that face, can you?'' The defender chuckled.

A subtle flicker of disbelief crossed Alexia's features as Irene continued chatting about the exchange. The realization that Y/N had chosen to swap shirts with the older woman stung a bit, sparking an unfamiliar emotion in her. Perhaps, it was a fleeting sense of envy for the seeming connection that her and Irene had. The Spaniard had played against the Lyon striker numerous times during her stint at PSG.

Despite her attempt to keep a neutral expression, Alexia's reaction was far from enthusiastic. ''Oh, that's great.'' She replied, her tone a bit more dejected than she had wanted.

Irene noticed the shift in her teammate's demeanor. She raised an eyebrow and shot a look at Alexia. ''Something on your mind?'' She questioned, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she sensed there might be more to the midfielder's reaction.

''No, nothing at all. Just… surprised.'' Alexia forced a smile, attempting to downplay the jealousy. However, her eyes betrayed her.

The defender raised an eyebrow, her grin only widening. ''Surprised? Why? We've known each other for a long time, played against her a bunch of times.'' She responded casually, enjoying whatever was happening at the moment.

''Yeah, true. Well, good for you.'' Alexia nodded, trying to mask her unease with a nonchalant tone.

The Barcelona player chuckled, starting to recognize what this might be about. She held up the England shirt, a teasing glint in her own eyes. ''You want it? I still have a Lyon one from a few years ago.'' She playfully extended the jersey towards Alexia.

The midfielder shook her head, again forcing herself to laugh. ''No, no. It's all yours, don't even want it, anyway.'' Alexia waved off the offered shirt with a dismissive gesture.

''Alright, whatever suits you.'' Irene smiled, placing the shirt in her own bag.

She left the blonde alone, walking back to where she had settled before the defender had waltzed into the room.

Alone with her thoughts, Alexia couldn’t shake off the uncomfortable feeling. Watching Irene prance around with Y/N’s shirt left her with a strange mix of emotions that she hadn’t dealt with before, or at least not when it pertained to her teammate and rival.

What puzzled her even more was why Y/N had never asked her for a shirt swap. She wondered if their rivalry and everyone’s comparisons of the two, overshadowed the possibility of something more- whatever that something more was. Did the England captain only see their interactions through the lens of competition?

Alexia grappled with a simple yet difficult question: did she want Y/N to ask for a shirt swap or did it bother her more that she didn’t seem to be considered for one?

[madhatterbri]

Safe | D.P.

Summary: Can you write about Damian carrying the reader out of the ring after trying to defend Rhea Ripley from Nia Jax and Liv Morgan and the new Judgment Day. Damien keeps her safe after everything they go through.

Requested by: Anon

Author's Note: Happy birthday to Damian Priest.

Taglist: @theworldofotps @smallestsnarkestgirl @mrsarcherofinfamy @brideofinfamy @terrortwinunicorn @new-zealand-chic @miss-kuki-nz

Her head weakly turned to them. The girls giggled at each other. Liv was Nia's new best friend. After Tiffany turned on Nia at Smackdown and took her championship, Nia came to RAW. In need of a new best friend, she quickly aligned herself with Liv Morgan. Now, they caused hell in the women's locker room on RAW.

Y/N stared above her. Her chest rose and fell as she tried to catch her breath. She tried her best to protect Rhea from Liv Morgan and Nia Jax. When the New Judgment Day came out, the chaos grew worse. Damian and Jey were busy dealing with Finn, Dom, JD, and Carlito.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nia and Liv continue their assault on Rhea. When Mami was no longer fighting back, they turned their sights to Y/N.

The blonde wrestler grabbed Y/N's hair. She dragged her to the corner of the ring. Y/N knew what was coming. She couldn't stop it even if she wanted to. Nia started to climb the to the second rope. The injured wrestler closed her eyes to brace for impact. The Bonzai Drop had to be her least favorite finisher to be a victim of.

The crowd erupted in a cheer. Within moments, someone grabbed Y/N's right wrist and ankle. Her body screamed in pain at the sudden movement. She whined and opened her eyes, expecting to see Liv Morgan giving her one last beat down. No one else could possibly save her. Instead, she was met with Damian Priest.

"You're fine. I got you," he assured her. Damian pulled her close to him as he stood outside the ring. The archer of infamy scooped her in his arms. Her arms wrapped around his neck to steady herself. She rested her head on his shoulder.

Nia, despite Liv's warning, continued to Bonzai Drop. Her butt fell hard to the ground with nothing to stop her. She howled in pain as Liv rushed to her aid. With the two women now distracted, they couldn't see another person had come to help Rhea.

"Rhea? What about Rhea?" Y/N asked in a panic.

"She's fine. Jey got her," he answered. Y/N peaked over his shoulder to see Jey assisting Rhea. She was cradling her arm close to her body, but she was able to walk out.

"I failed her, D. I failed Rhea," her voice broke. She felt like such a failure. An uneasy feeling washed over her. "What if they come after us?"

"Don't worry, mi amor. You are safe with me,"

[ouiouibaguettt]

New Beginnings

wbb masterlist

Y/N -> your name. Italics -> text

9,6k words (this one was sleeping in my draft for too long)

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The UConn Huskies women’s basketball team had just finished a grueling practice session, one of many in the lead-up to their upcoming games. The air was thick with exhaustion, but there was an undercurrent of excitement. It was the kind of energy that came from knowing they were a championship-caliber team, but also one that came with the pressure of maintaining their elite status.

Azzi Fudd, the team’s shining star, was doing her usual post-practice ritual of shooting free throws, her focus unwavering. Her teammates, including the newly arrived Y/N, were gathered near the locker room, cooling down. Y/N had transferred to UConn from another university, and while she had quickly become a key player, there was something about her that stood out to Azzi—something beyond her skills on the court.

As Y/N grabbed a water bottle, she caught sight of Azzi, still on the court. Something about the way she moved, the intensity with which she practiced, was mesmerizing. Y/N had always admired Azzi from afar, but now being on the same team as her was a dream come true—and one that was quickly becoming more complicated.

After the rest of the team had headed to the locker room, Y/N stayed behind, taking a few extra shots to clear her mind. It had been a tough practice, and her body ached. She didn’t notice Azzi walking up beside her until she heard her voice.

“You staying late too?” Azzi asked, her voice casual but with a knowing glint in her eye.

Y/N glanced up and smiled. “Yeah, just working out some kinks. Practice was intense today.”

Azzi chuckled, stepping closer. “Tell me about it. We’ve got to be sharp if we want to win it all this season.” She paused for a moment, eyeing Y/N. “But you’ve got the skills. I’ve seen your game; you’re gonna make a huge impact here.”

The compliment made Y/N’s heart race a little faster. She had watched Azzi on TV for years before they were teammates, so to hear praise from her felt surreal.

“Thanks” Y/N said, trying to keep her cool. “It’s still a lot to adjust to, but I’m ready.”

Azzi grinned, walking toward the free throw line and casually taking a shot. “You’ll get there. We all have to work harder if we want to be champions.”

Y/N nodded, stepping forward to join her. The two of them spent the next few minutes practicing free throws together, pushing each other to make every shot. They didn’t talk much; instead, they communicated in the unspoken language of teammates—pushing each other to be better, always.

A few days later, UConn had their first big game of the season. The energy in the arena was electric, the stands packed with fans. The competition was fierce, but Azzi and Y/N were in perfect sync, moving as one, anticipating each other’s plays. KK Arnold was on the court as well, making sharp passes, while Paige Bueckers moved fluidly, executing her usual dazzling plays. But despite the solid teamwork around her, Y/N couldn’t keep her eyes off Azzi.

Azzi’s focus on the court was undeniable. She was a force to be reckoned with, but there was a quiet intensity to her that drew Y/N in. And every now and then, when their eyes met across the court, there was an unspoken connection between them that neither could ignore.

As the game went on, the intensity mounted. UConn’s opponent was tough, but the Huskies’ skill, especially Azzi’s leadership and Y/N’s sharp shooting, began to turn the tide. With just minutes left in the game, the score was neck-and-neck.

KK Arnold brought the ball up the court, and Y/N found herself in position for a perfect shot. Azzi, who had been leading the charge, drew the defense in and passed the ball to Y/N, who drained a three-pointer. The crowd erupted into cheers as UConn took the lead.

Azzi was the first to rush over to Y/N, throwing an arm around her in a quick hug. “That’s what I’m talking about!” she shouted over the noise of the crowd, her face lighting up with pride.

Y/N smiled, her heart racing. “Thanks for the assist, Azzi. You made that play happen.”

Azzi shrugged, her eyes shining with excitement. “We make each other better.”

After the game, the team gathered in the locker room, the excitement of the win still buzzing in the air. The coaches were handing out praise, but it was clear that Azzi, Y/N, Paige, and KK were the stars of the game. Everyone was buzzing, but there was a certain warmth in the air as the team celebrated their success.

Y/N found herself standing next to Azzi, the two of them smiling and laughing about the game. The tension that had been building between them, from practice to the court, seemed to ease after the win.

“I knew you had it in you” Azzi said, nudging Y/N playfully with her shoulder.

Y/N laughed, glancing at Azzi, her heart fluttering. “I couldn’t have done it without you. Your assists were on point today.”

Azzi grinned, stepping a little closer. “Teamwork. That’s how we’re gonna win it all this season.”

Before Y/N could respond, Azzi reached out and pulled her into a quick, but intimate hug, wrapping her arms around Y/N’s shoulders. Y/N hesitated for a moment, then wrapped her arms around Azzi’s waist, feeling a rush of warmth flood through her. The quiet PDA was not for the cameras or the fans—it was a moment just between them.

“We’ve got this” Y/N whispered into Azzi’s ear, her heart racing.

Azzi pulled back just enough to look at her, her eyes soft and sincere. “Yeah, we do.”

The team’s celebrations continued around them, but in that moment, it felt like everything was in perfect balance—basketball, friendship, and something more that neither of them was quite ready to define. All they knew was that they had each other, both on and off the court. And as the season progressed, it was clear that whatever happened, they were in it together.

As the season went on, the connection between Azzi and Y/N grew. On the court, they were unstoppable. Off the court, their chemistry continued to build. Between practices, games, and their growing bond, it became evident that their relationship wasn’t just about basketball—it was about understanding, support, and an unspoken trust that only teammates, and maybe something more, could share.

Their bond had only just begun, and with the season still ahead of them, Azzi and Y/N knew that no matter where their relationship went, they had something special that could carry them through any challenge—together.

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The season was heating up, and UConn was ready to face one of their toughest opponents yet—Iowa. The arena was buzzing with anticipation, and the energy in the locker room was high. Azzi, Y/N, Paige, and KK were all locked in, determined to make their mark against a team known for its fierce defense and high-scoring offense.

As the team huddled together, Coach Geno Auriemma gave them his usual pep talk, reminding them of their strengths and the importance of staying composed. But for Y/N, there was an added layer of excitement—not just for the game, but for the bond that was beginning to form with Azzi. They’d been growing closer over the last few weeks, and the connection between them was becoming impossible to ignore.

The game started with an intense pace, both teams trading baskets and playing aggressively. Azzi, as usual, was a standout—her defense was sharp, her shooting precise, and she was leading the charge. But Y/N wasn’t far behind. They were playing with a confidence that had grown stronger with each passing game, making crucial shots and setting up their teammates with perfect assists.

In the first half, UConn had the lead, but Iowa was relentless. Their star player, Caitlin Clark, was lighting up the scoreboard, and UConn was struggling to keep up with her. The Huskies’ defense was getting tested like never before, and it was clear that this game was going to come down to the wire.

Azzi and Y/N were always near each other on the court, constantly communicating through eye contact and quick gestures. Their chemistry was undeniable, and the more they played together, the more they seemed to anticipate each other’s moves.

With the game tied and just minutes left, the tension in the air was palpable. The crowd was on the edge of their seats as UConn fought to hold off Iowa’s final push. Y/N was at the top of the key, waiting for the ball. Azzi, on the other side, was creating space with her usual quick cuts. When Y/N caught the ball, they saw Azzi’s movement and immediately passed it to her, giving Azzi the perfect shot to take the game into UConn’s favor.

Azzi drained the shot, and the crowd erupted. UConn had the lead with only seconds left on the clock.

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The final buzzer sounded, and UConn had done it—they had beaten Iowa in a thrilling, back-and-forth game. The players spilled onto the court, celebrating their hard-earned victory. Paige, KK, and the rest of the team surrounded Azzi, high-fiving and shouting in excitement. But Azzi’s eyes immediately found Y/N in the crowd of teammates. Without a second thought, she made her way toward them, her heart racing from the adrenaline of the game and the sheer joy of the win.

Y/N was already smiling, their eyes locked onto Azzi as she approached. As soon as she was within reach, Azzi wrapped her arms around them, pulling them into a tight hug.

“You were incredible today,” Azzi said, her voice full of admiration. Her hands lingered on Y/N’s back, her touch lingering just a little longer than it should have. Y/N could feel their heart beat faster at the closeness.

Y/N laughed softly, brushing their hand against Azzi’s arm. “We were a team out there. You nailed that shot.”

Azzi grinned, her face flushed from the heat of the game and the joy of victory. She leaned in slightly, her lips brushing Y/N’s ear as she whispered, “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

In that moment, with the roar of the crowd still in the background, Azzi’s lips found Y/N’s, pressing a soft, quick kiss against them. The action wasn’t for anyone else; it wasn’t a display for the cameras. It was a moment between two people who had been building something special. A quiet declaration of how much they meant to each other, even in the chaos of competition.

Y/N pulled back slightly, their eyes searching Azzi’s. “I didn’t expect that” they whispered, their voice teasing but full of affection.

Azzi smiled, her fingers tracing the edge of Y/N’s jaw. “What? You thought I’d wait?”

Y/N chuckled, stepping a little closer, their breath mixing with Azzi’s. “I guess not.”

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The locker room was filled with the sounds of laughter and chatter as the team celebrated their victory. Paige and KK were joking around, and Coach Auriemma was offering his praise, though his tone remained firm, reminding them that the season wasn’t over yet.

Azzi and Y/N found themselves in the middle of the celebration, but they couldn’t help stealing glances at each other, their connection undeniable. Between the high-fives and the cheers, they found themselves inching closer again, quietly finding moments to touch—whether it was brushing hands, a brief arm around the shoulder, or a shared smile. The tension that had been building for weeks was finally starting to shift into something more comfortable, more real.

As the noise of the celebration continued, Y/N leaned toward Azzi, speaking in a low voice so no one else could hear. “You know, this season’s going to be unforgettable.”

Azzi nodded, her gaze intense but soft. “Yeah. And I’m glad I get to share it with you.”

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fade away. It wasn’t about the game. It wasn’t about the championship they were chasing. It was about the quiet bond that had grown between them, something that neither was ready to fully define but something that both of them knew was going to be a big part of this journey.

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Later that evening, after the celebrations had died down and the team was heading back to the hotel, Azzi and Y/N walked side by side, the city lights casting long shadows in front of them. The hustle and bustle of the streets seemed far away compared to the quiet moments they shared.

As they approached the hotel entrance, Y/N glanced at Azzi. “Hey, you want to grab a late-night snack?”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “You just want an excuse to spend more time with me, don’t you?”

Y/N grinned, their heart swelling with affection. “Maybe. Is that a problem?”

Azzi’s smile widened. “Not at all.”

They entered the hotel together, already anticipating the quiet of the night ahead and whatever came next, both on and off the court.

As the season continued, they knew that no matter what challenges they faced, they had each other to rely on—not just as teammates, but as something more.

“Together, Always”

With each passing day, Azzi and Y/N’s bond deepened. The season was long, and the games would only get harder, but they were ready for whatever came their way—both on the court and in the moments they would continue to share.

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The holiday season had arrived, and with it, the much-needed Christmas break. UConn had a short window to rest before the next big stretch of games, and the players were grateful for the time to recharge. Azzi Fudd and Y/N, however, found themselves struggling to stay away from basketball for too long. The gym was quiet, but both were there, sneaking in extra workouts when the rest of the team took a break.

Even though they were in a festive mood, with Christmas lights twinkling outside and a blanket of snow covering the campus, there was a warmth between Azzi and Y/N that hadn’t been there before. The connection between them had grown beyond their teammates’ bond—there was something undeniably special blossoming in the spaces between their stolen glances and the quiet moments they shared.

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It was Christmas Eve, and while most of the team had already left for the break, Azzi and Y/N had stayed behind to finish up some last-minute drills. The gym was almost empty, save for a few coaches doing their final rounds, and the quiet hum of the lights overhead.

Azzi was practicing her shots from the three-point line, her form smooth and fluid. Y/N was at the other end of the court, dribbling and running drills, but they kept stealing glances at Azzi, their focus momentarily slipping.

“Focus, Y/N!” Azzi called out with a smirk, her voice echoing off the empty walls.

Y/N rolled their eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “I’m focusing” they shot back playfully, dribbling the ball harder.

Azzi, sensing a playful challenge, tossed the ball toward Y/N. “Let’s see who can make more shots in five minutes.”

Y/N caught the ball and immediately shot it back, grinning. “You’re on.”

The next five minutes were filled with rapid shots, quick passes, and laughter. Azzi’s competitiveness was infectious, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel energized by her presence. Every time Azzi made a shot, she flashed a quick, teasing smile at Y/N, and every time Y/N managed to sink one of their own, they exchanged a playful challenge.

In the final moments of their competition, Y/N found themselves at the top of the key, setting up for one last shot. As they focused on the hoop, they heard Azzi’s voice behind them, playful yet sincere.

“You know, you’re kind of ruining my perfect streak here.”

Y/N grinned without turning, speaking just loud enough for Azzi to hear. “Better get used to it then.”

With that, Y/N made the final shot, and they couldn’t help but do a small victory dance. Azzi rolled her eyes, laughing, but then moved toward Y/N, standing just a few inches away.

“You win this time” Azzi said, her voice low and teasing.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the proximity, and they couldn’t stop the smile that spread across their face. “Only because you let me.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her gaze softening. “Is that so?”

Without warning, Azzi reached out and pulled Y/N into a brief but intimate hug, her arms wrapping around them. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, the warmth of Azzi’s body pressed against theirs, and the world outside the gym felt far away. Y/N didn’t pull away; instead, they leaned into the hug, savoring the quiet connection between them.

As Azzi pulled back slightly, she placed a gentle kiss on Y/N’s forehead, the soft pressure sending a shiver down Y/N’s spine. The feeling lingered, and for a moment, the only sound was their shared breaths.

After their practice session, both Azzi and Y/N decided to take a break from the team activities and spend Christmas Eve together. Y/N had invited Azzi over to their apartment for a quiet evening, away from the usual hustle and bustle of team life.

The small apartment was cozy, decorated with string lights and a Christmas tree in the corner. Y/N had prepared dinner—a homemade pasta dish—and the warm, comforting aroma filled the space.

Azzi kicked off her sneakers and sat on the couch, her eyes scanning the room. “This is nice. You’ve really got a vibe going on here.”

Y/N laughed, setting the plates down on the table. “Thanks. It’s just a little apartment, but I like it.”

Azzi smiled, looking over at Y/N with something soft in her eyes. “I like it too. Feels like home.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at the words, and they felt a warmth settle in their chest. They sat down next to Azzi, their legs brushing. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The hum of Christmas music played softly in the background as the two of them sat in companionable silence, simply enjoying each other’s presence.

Azzi looked over at Y/N, her eyes thoughtful. “You know, I didn’t think I’d spend Christmas like this—just the two of us.”

Y/N chuckled, nudging Azzi lightly. “Yeah? You didn’t think I’d drag you into my low-key Christmas plans?”

Azzi grinned. “I’m glad you did. It’s… nice. Honestly, I haven’t had a Christmas like this in a long time.”

Y/N paused, looking at Azzi carefully. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Azzi’s smile softened, and she reached for Y/N’s hand, their fingers intertwining. It was a quiet gesture, but it felt significant—a small yet intimate connection between the two of them that spoke volumes.

After dinner, Azzi and Y/N went outside to get some fresh air, stepping onto the balcony of Y/N’s apartment. The night was cold, but the Christmas lights on the nearby buildings created a soft, warm glow.

Azzi wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stay warm, and Y/N moved closer, instinctively pulling her into a hug.

“Cold out here, huh?” Y/N asked, their breath visible in the chilly air.

Azzi nodded, leaning into the warmth of Y/N’s body. “A little, but this is nice. You’re nice.”

Y/N felt their heart skip a beat. “I’m glad you think so.”

Azzi shifted slightly, her face turning toward Y/N’s. The way she looked at them, her eyes soft yet intense, sent a spark of warmth straight through Y/N. Before Y/N could say anything, Azzi leaned in, her lips brushing softly against Y/N’s in a gentle kiss.

The kiss was slow and tender, like something that had been building up for far too long. It was full of quiet affection, a Christmas gift neither of them had expected but both needed. Azzi’s lips lingered against Y/N’s for just a moment longer, the world outside fading away as they shared the moment.

When they pulled back, Azzi smiled, her face flushed in the cool night air. “Merry Christmas, Y/N,” she whispered.

“Merry Christmas, Azzi” Y/N replied, their voice thick with emotion.

In that quiet, cozy space, beneath the glow of Christmas lights and the warmth of their connection, they knew that whatever came next—whatever challenges the season would throw their way—they had each other. And that, for now, was all that mattered.

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As Christmas break came to an end and the New Year approached, Azzi and Y/N found themselves even more inseparable. Their bond was no longer just about basketball—it was about the quiet moments, the shared glances, and the way they made each other feel seen.

As they prepared for the next phase of the season, they knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together—on the court and off. The chemistry between them, both in basketball and in life, had only just begun to unfold, and it was clear that the season would be unforgettable, not just for their victories but for the love that was growing between them.

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The excitement was palpable as the start of March Madness approached. UConn had made it to the Final Four, a feat that was no surprise to anyone who followed women’s basketball, but for Azzi Fudd and Y/N, it felt like a dream that had been slowly taking shape for months. The team had worked tirelessly, each player pushing themselves to new limits. And now, here they were, one step away from the national championship.

The buzz around the team was electric. Coach Geno Auriemma kept the mood light, but everyone knew that the stakes were higher than ever. UConn’s first game of the Final Four would be against a talented team that had been gaining momentum all season. The pressure was on, but the players were focused and ready. Azzi and Y/N, in particular, had been inseparable, both on and off the court. Their bond was stronger than ever, and there was a quiet sense of excitement when they looked at each other—something more than just basketball.

It was the night before the big game. The team had a light practice session to stay sharp, and the tension was building. Azzi and Y/N were staying in a hotel, the team scattered in different rooms as they prepared for the challenge ahead. But even amidst the pressure, there was an undeniable sense of calm between them.

They found themselves alone for a rare moment, sitting side by side in a small lounge area in the hotel. The rest of the team was either resting or preparing mentally for the game, but Azzi and Y/N had decided to take a few minutes to themselves.

Azzi, dressed in her UConn hoodie and sweatpants, leaned back in her chair, her feet tucked under her as she sipped on a bottle of water. Y/N, sitting beside her, couldn’t help but notice how at ease Azzi seemed. Her presence was calming, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of thoughts racing through their mind about the upcoming game.

“You ready for tomorrow?” Y/N asked softly, glancing at Azzi.

Azzi smiled, her eyes catching the light from the nearby lamp. “As ready as I’ll ever be. But, I think the real question is, are you ready?”

Y/N chuckled, shaking their head. “Oh, I’ve been ready for this moment since we made it to the tournament. It’s just… crazy, you know? One step away from the championship.”

Azzi nodded, her expression turning more serious. “Yeah, but we can’t think too far ahead. We’ve got to focus on the game at hand. We’ve worked so hard for this moment. And we’ve got this.”

The confidence in Azzi’s voice made Y/N’s heart swell. It was impossible not to believe in her—Azzi had always been the one to lift others up when the pressure mounted. But this time, Y/N wanted to lift her up.

Y/N leaned over, their hand brushing against Azzi’s. The gesture was subtle, but it was enough to send a wave of warmth through both of them. They looked at each other, eyes locking for a long moment.

Azzi gave them a soft smile, her fingers lightly tracing the back of Y/N’s hand. “You’ve been the best teammate I could ask for,” she whispered, her voice low.

Y/N felt a rush of emotion at the words. “I couldn’t do it without you,” they replied.

For a long second, neither of them said anything. The weight of their connection hung in the air, and it felt like everything around them—the upcoming game, the pressure, the noise—didn’t matter as long as they had each other.

Azzi’s lips parted slightly, and before Y/N could stop themselves, they leaned in, brushing their lips gently against Azzi’s. It was a kiss that spoke volumes—quiet, tender, and filled with unspoken promises.

Azzi’s arms wrapped around Y/N’s neck, pulling them closer as the kiss deepened. It was a moment of vulnerability, of love, away from the world of basketball and the expectations that came with it. For those few moments, there was no championship to chase, no opponents to face. There was only Azzi and Y/N—two people, lost in the quiet intimacy they had shared.

When they finally pulled back, both were breathing a little faster, eyes lingering on each other.

“I love you” Azzi whispered, her forehead resting gently against Y/N’s.

Y/N smiled softly, their hand finding Azzi’s. “I love you too”

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The next day, the tension in the arena was palpable. The crowd was filled with energy, anticipation hanging thick in the air. UConn was about to face Stanford in the Final Four, and both teams knew what was on the line. The players had been through countless practices and countless games, but nothing could quite prepare them for the intensity of this match.

Azzi was in her element as usual, moving across the court with confidence and grace. Y/N, equally locked in, fed off Azzi’s energy, pushing themselves to be the best they could be. The game was a back-and-forth battle, with both teams showcasing their strengths.

It was an emotional roller coaster. Stanford had some of the best shooters in the country, but UConn’s defense, led by Azzi and Y/N, was relentless. Paige Bueckers was her usual self—creative, dynamic, and constantly putting pressure on the defense—but it was the bond between Azzi and Y/N that truly stood out. Their connection was unspoken, intuitive. Azzi would catch Y/N’s eyes across the court, and they knew exactly where to pass, exactly when to cut.

As the game neared its climax, the score was tied. There were only seconds left on the clock. The crowd was roaring with anticipation, and Coach Auriemma was giving the final instructions to his team.

Azzi dribbled the ball to the top of the key, where she was quickly surrounded by Stanford defenders. But she knew exactly where Y/N would be, cutting toward the basket with perfect timing.

With one swift motion, Azzi passed the ball. Y/N caught it, squared up, and released the shot—a clean, beautiful arc that flew through the air.

The buzzer rang, and the ball swished through the net.

UConn had won.

The arena erupted in cheers as the players rushed to each other, jumping and screaming in excitement. It was a hard-fought battle, but UConn had done it—they had made it to the national championship.

Azzi and Y/N found each other in the chaos, and for a moment, the entire world seemed to fade away. The celebration was still going on around them, but all they could focus on was each other.

Y/N reached for Azzi, pulling her into a tight embrace. Azzi laughed, her face glowing with the thrill of victory.

“We did it” Azzi said, her voice thick with emotion. “We really did it.”

Y/N smiled, their fingers gently brushing the back of Azzi’s neck. “We’re not done yet.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Oh, I know. We’ve got a championship to win.”

But before the moment could end, Y/N leaned in, their lips meeting Azzi’s in a soft, celebratory kiss. It was a kiss full of joy, full of love, full of everything they had worked for. And as the crowd continued to cheer, the two of them shared a moment of quiet victory, knowing that no matter what happened in the championship, they had each other.

The championship was within reach, but for now, they were content. They had made it this far, and nothing—nothing—could take away the bond they had created along the way.

As the team celebrated in the locker room, the countdown to the final game began. But Y/N and Azzi knew that no matter what, they were already winners. They had each other, and that was worth more than any trophy. The championship game would come soon enough, but for now, they had their moment—a moment to remember for the rest of their lives.

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The national championship game was finally here. After weeks of preparation, sweat, and sacrifices, UConn had made it to the final stage of March Madness, and the stakes couldn’t have been higher. They were facing a powerhouse team in the finals, but no one doubted for a second that UConn had what it took to take home the title.

Azzi Fudd, Y/N, Paige Bueckers, and KK Arnold were all locked in, their chemistry undeniable. As they walked onto the court for warm-ups, there was a quiet confidence about the team. They had made it this far, and now, it was time to finish what they had started.

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Back in the locker room, the mood was a mix of nerves and excitement. Coach Auriemma paced back and forth, talking strategy with the team. He was a master at keeping his players focused while also reminding them of their capabilities.

Azzi sat next to Y/N, both of them tying their shoes, occasionally sharing glances with each other. Paige, sitting across from them, caught their eyes and gave them a playful wink.

“You two are going to have to stop making eyes at each other” Paige teased. “We’ve got a game to win, you know?”

Y/N smiled and leaned into Azzi’s side. “I can’t help it, Paige. She’s distracting.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a sly grin. “I’m not the only one who’s distracting. Look at KK over there, talking to the water bottle like it’s her best friend.”

KK, who had been deep in concentration, looked up at the teasing and laughed. “Hey, hydration is important. Don’t mock my pre-game routine!”

The entire locker room erupted in laughter, the tension momentarily lifted by the lightheartedness.

Paige’s eyes softened as she turned to Y/N and Azzi. “Seriously though, you two have been amazing together this season. I’m proud of both of you.”

“Thanks, Paige” Y/N said, their smile genuine. “We’ve got this. We’ve been through too much to let it slip now.”

Azzi nodded, her expression determined. “We’re finishing what we started. Let’s get this win.”

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The game was a battle from the first whistle. South Carolina came out strong, and the first few minutes were filled with aggressive plays from both sides. Azzi and Y/N were playing their best, moving fluidly across the court and communicating without speaking. Every pass, every screen, every shot felt perfectly orchestrated, like a well-rehearsed routine.

Paige, as always, was a force, using her quick thinking to find gaps in the defense. KK, ever the spark plug, was everywhere—making hustle plays, diving for loose balls, and pushing the pace. It was a team effort, and they were all in sync.

Azzi had the ball near the top of the key, looking for an opening. Y/N, setting a screen for her, flashed to the basket, knowing exactly what was coming next. Azzi made a quick pass, and Y/N caught the ball mid-air and finished with a beautiful layup.

Paige clapped and shouted from the sidelines, “That’s the way to do it!”

KK ran up to them, high-fiving both Azzi and Y/N. “I love how you two are in sync! Keep it up.”

As the game wore on, the intensity only grew. South Carolina’s defense was relentless, and the score remained tight. With just under two minutes left in the game, UConn was up by only three points. The atmosphere was electric—every possession mattered.

Coach Auriemma called a timeout to regroup the team, and the players huddled around him.

“Listen,” Coach said firmly, looking each player in the eye, “this is what we’ve trained for. We are the best when we play together. Stay calm. Trust each other.”

Azzi, Y/N, Paige, and KK exchanged looks of determination. There was no way they were going to let this moment slip away. It was time to finish the job.

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The crowd held its breath as the final seconds ticked down. With only 10 seconds left, the ball was in Azzi’s hands. She dribbled up the court, eyes scanning the defense. Y/N, positioned on the wing, made a sharp cut toward the basket, signaling to Azzi that they were ready.

Azzi saw it. With the defense collapsing around her, she passed the ball to Y/N. Y/N caught it cleanly and, with a quick pump fake, got their defender in the air. The clock was winding down, and with a quick move, Y/N pulled up for a jump shot from the elbow.

The ball soared through the air.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still.

And then, it swished through the net.

The crowd went wild. UConn had done it. The game was over. They were the national champions.

The moment the buzzer sounded, the UConn players erupted in celebration. They had won the national championship, and it was a feeling like no other. Teammates hugged, jumped, and screamed in joy.

Azzi and Y/N found each other in the chaos, instantly wrapping their arms around one another. They both laughed, out of breath, and their faces lit up with pure happiness.

“We did it” Azzi said, her voice shaky with emotion. “We really did it.”

Y/N smiled, their heart racing. “We did. And we did it together.”

Azzi pulled them close, her lips meeting Y/N’s in a kiss that was both tender and passionate. It was a moment they would remember forever, not just because of the championship, but because it was theirs.

Paige, KK, and the rest of the team cheered around them, but for a few moments, it was just Azzi and Y/N—two players who had come together to achieve something incredible, who had faced every obstacle and overcome it, and now stood on top of the basketball world.

As they pulled away, Y/N rested their forehead against Azzi’s. “I love you.”

Azzi smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair out of Y/N’s face. “I love you too.”

Paige walked up to them, her eyes shining with pride. “You two are unstoppable. So happy for you both.”

KK joined in, giving them both a high-five. “Champions! You guys deserve this.”

Azzi grinned at Y/N, her fingers lacing through theirs. “We all deserve this. But this is just the beginning.”

With that, the UConn team celebrated their victory together, knowing that they had earned their place in history. And for Azzi and Y/N, this championship was more than just a win—it was the start of their future, both on and off the court.

The championship was over, but the bond between Azzi and Y/N was just beginning. They had achieved everything they had set out to do—together. As they stood there, surrounded by their teammates, they knew that this moment would be the first of many they would share as a team, as a couple, and as champions.

With the victory behind them, they were ready for whatever came next.

Or maybe they weren’t…

______________________________________________________________________

The days in UConn were slipping by quickly, the final stretch of the season creeping ever closer. Y/N had been playing the best basketball of their life, impressing coaches, teammates, and scouts alike. But as much as they loved their time at UConn, there was an undeniable feeling that a new chapter was waiting for them.

It had come from a conversation that had started with an unexpected email. A contract offer.

One morning, after practice, Y/N sat in their dorm room, staring at the email in disbelief. It was from Basket Landes, one of the top professional teams in France. They had watched Y/N play all season and, after much consideration, wanted them to join their roster. The offer was a dream come true, and the idea of taking their career to the next level in France was tempting. Especially if they can reach the international stage after that.

Y/N’s excitement was tempered by the weight of what they had just signed: a contract with Basket Landes. They had made the decision with the best intentions, believing it would be the next step for their career. But telling Azzi about it had been harder than expected.

When Y/N first shared the news with her, they’d hoped for a reaction of support, pride, and excitement. But instead, the conversation felt strained, and Azzi’s voice held an undercurrent of sadness that Y/N couldn’t ignore.

“You’re really going? To France?” Azzi asked, her tone flat, as if the shock of it all had hit her like a freight train.

“Azzi, I know this is sudden. I just… it’s a huge opportunity for me” Y/N said, trying to explain, but their words fell short.

Azzi paused, taking in the news. “I get that, but… we’re just supposed to be doing this together, right? I didn’t think we’d be so far apart.”

The words hung heavy in the air between them. Y/N could hear the hurt in Azzi’s voice. It wasn’t that Azzi didn’t want them to chase their dreams, but the distance felt impossible to ignore.

“I’m sorry” Y/N whispered, feeling guilty for the sudden separation.

The conversation drifted, and despite the promises to make it work, there was a sense of unresolved tension. As the days passed, the couple barely spoke, the distance not just geographical but emotional, too.

Y/N buried themselves in the intensity of life with Basket Landes, practicing hard and trying to adjust to their new routine. But there was a constant ache in their chest, a feeling that something was missing.

______________________________________________________________________

A month passed, and though life in France was busy and exciting, Y/N couldn’t shake the distance between them and Azzi. Azzi had stopped reaching out as much. The texts were sparse, and when they did speak, the conversations felt forced. Both of them had retreated into their own worlds, unsure of what came next.

One evening, during a team dinner at Basket Landes, Yohana Ewodo nudged Y/N playfully. “You look like someone just broke your heart. What’s going on?”

Y/N gave a faint smile, but it didn’t reach their eyes. “It’s nothing, just… trying to adjust here, you know?”

Sixtine Macquet raised an eyebrow. “Adjusting, huh? Or is it something else?”

Y/N sighed, setting down their fork. “I miss her. Azzi and I… we’re not talking much lately.”

Clarince Djaldi-Tabdi looked sympathetic. “That sucks, honestly. But hey, you’ve got us here, and we’re not going anywhere.”

Marie Pardon gave a knowing smile. “And when Azzi visits, I’m sure we’ll all get to hear about how ‘whipped’ you are. I mean, the way you talk about her…” she teased, making Y/N blush.

Yohana laughed. “Yeah, we know you’re all about that Azzi life. But we get it. Relationships are hard when you’re this far away.”

Just when Y/N thought they couldn’t stand the distance any longer, a message from Azzi popped up on their phone. It had been a week since their last conversation, and Y/N had been growing increasingly frustrated and confused about where they stood.

Azzi’s message was simple: “I’ve been thinking a lot. I miss you. Can we talk?”

Y/N’s heart raced. After weeks of silence and a painful month of uncertainty, Azzi was reaching out. They quickly typed out a response. “Yes, please. I miss you too. Let’s talk.”

The call came a few hours later, and when Azzi’s face appeared on the screen, it felt like a weight had been lifted.

“I’m sorry, Y/N” Azzi started, her voice quieter than usual. “I didn’t handle this well. I was hurt, and I let that get in the way of us. But I’ve realized that I don’t want to lose you over something like this. I love you.”

Y/N exhaled, feeling relief flood through them. “I love you too, Azzi. I never wanted to hurt you. I just… I had to do this for myself. I didn’t want us to drift, but I wasn’t sure what else to do.”

Azzi smiled softly. “I get it. And I’m proud of you. I just didn’t know how to handle the distance. But now… I want to work through it. Together.”

They both sat in silence for a moment, taking it all in. There was still a lot of distance between them—physically, emotionally—but the connection that had once brought them together was still there.

“I’m flying out to see you soon,” Azzi said suddenly, her eyes lighting up. “I’m not letting this go. I want to be there for you. For us.”

Y/N grinned, their heart swelling. “I can’t wait.”

______________________________________________________________________

A few weeks later, Azzi arrived in France to watch Y/N’s game for Basket Landes. Her visit was like a balm to Y/N’s soul, and the moment they locked eyes at the airport, it was as if all the tension, all the uncertainty, melted away.

After the game, as the team celebrated the win, Azzi stood off to the side, waiting for Y/N. The moment they caught sight of each other, Y/N ran across the court, dropping their bag and wrapping their arms around Azzi in a tight hug.

“Missed you so much,” Y/N whispered, their voice thick with emotion.

Azzi pulled back slightly, her hands cupping Y/N’s face. “I missed you too. I’m so proud of you. You’re killing it here.”

The team watched from a distance, grinning at the PDA. Yohana leaned over to Sixtine and whispered, “Looks like they’ve got it all figured out now, huh?”

Sixtine nodded, smirking. “I knew it was just a matter of time before they’d be all over each other again. It’s hard to stay mad when you love someone that much.”

The girls of Basket Landes exchanged knowing glances as Y/N and Azzi shared a soft kiss before turning to join the team.

“Alright, alright, lovebirds,” Marie teased, “Save some of that for later. We’ve got a game to celebrate, and we all know how whipped you are, Y/N.”

Y/N laughed, rolling their eyes. “You guys are impossible.”

Luisa Geiselsöder joined in. “But you’re so cute together, we can’t help it. Glad to see you two worked things out.”

Y/N smiled, the warmth of their teammates surrounding them. It felt like a weight had been lifted—not just from their relationship with Azzi, but from the pressure of trying to balance a new life in France with their own ambitions.

As they walked off the court, hand-in-hand with Azzi, Y/N felt a renewed sense of peace. Despite the challenges and the uncertainty, they knew they would make it work. They had each other, and that was enough.

In that moment, everything felt right again.

______________________________________________________________________

The months in Basket Landes had been nothing short of magical. Y/N had found their stride, playing alongside a team that was as close as family. The first season in France had been a whirlwind of highs and lows, but it was capped off with something they had always dreamed of: a championship win.

The win was a testament to their hard work, dedication, and the support from their teammates, like Myriam Djekoundade, Clarince, Luisa, and Leila Lacan, all of whom had become not just teammates but true friends.

But just when they thought life couldn’t get any better, another surprise came their way.

It was a typical day of practice when their phone buzzed with an email notification. At first, Y/N barely glanced at it, thinking it was just another team update or a sponsor’s message. But then they saw the subject line: “France National Team – Olympic Call-Up”.

Their heart skipped a beat as they clicked open the email. The French national team had officially called them up for the Olympics.

Y/N froze, staring at the screen in disbelief. This was the opportunity of a lifetime—something they had dreamed of since they were a child. But even now, with the offer in front of them, they couldn’t quite process it. They had just finished a fantastic season with Basket Landes, and now the Olympics? It felt like a dream.

Y/N couldn’t contain their excitement, and they rushed to find Azzi, who was finishing up a workout in the gym.

“Azzi! Azzi, I got called up!” Y/N practically yelled as they burst through the door.

Azzi looked up in surprise, eyes widening as she took in Y/N’s excited expression. “Called up? For what? What are you talking about?”

“The French national team, Azzi!” Y/N couldn’t stop grinning. “They’ve asked me to join them for the Olympics!”

Azzi’s jaw dropped, and then a wide smile spread across her face. She crossed the room in seconds, pulling Y/N into a tight hug. “Oh my god, babe, this is huge! I’m so proud of you!”

Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes as they held onto Azzi. “I can’t believe it. This is everything I’ve worked for. And now it’s happening.”

Azzi pulled back, her smile softening. “You deserve this. You’ve worked so hard, and I’m so happy for you.”

Y/N looked into Azzi’s eyes, feeling an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Azzi. You’ve been my rock through all of this. I’m going to make you proud.”

Azzi kissed their forehead, a tender gesture. “You already have.”

______________________________________________________________________

As the news spread among their Basket Landes teammates, the teasing and excitement began. Everyone was thrilled for Y/N, but they couldn’t resist poking fun at how far their star player had come.

“You’ve really made it now, huh?” Destiny Slocum teased, giving Y/N a playful nudge as they walked into the locker room. “First a championship, now the Olympics? What’s next, a statue?”

Y/N laughed, rolling their eyes. “Come on, guys. It’s just a call-up. Still gotta prove myself.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Louise Bussière chimed in, “We all know you’re going to crush it. Don’t forget us when you’re rubbing elbows with all those famous players.”

Sixtine leaned in, smirking. “Don’t worry, Y/N. We know you’ll still have time for us when you’re an Olympic gold medalist.”

Yohana added with a grin, “Just don’t forget to bring us all some Olympic swag when you’re there, alright?”

Y/N chuckled, shaking their head. “I’ll bring you all back something. But first, I need to survive this training camp.”

As the teasing continued, Y/N couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Basket Landes had become home, and these women were more than teammates—they were family. Their support meant the world.

Later that evening, after a celebratory dinner with the team, Y/N and Azzi walked back to Y/N’s apartment together. The excitement was still buzzing in the air, but there was a quiet, intimate moment between the two of them as they settled on the couch.

“You’re going to be amazing in the Olympics, Y/N,” Azzi said, her voice full of pride. “I’m so happy for you.”

Y/N leaned in, cupping Azzi’s face. “I couldn’t have gotten this far without you. You were always there, supporting me, even when things were tough.”

Azzi smiled, her eyes soft. “And I’ll be there when you bring home that gold medal.”

Y/N kissed her softly, the tender moment wrapping around them like a warm blanket. The uncertainty, the distance, the challenges—they had all faded into the background. This was their moment.

“I’ll miss you when I’m away” Y/N whispered against Azzi’s lips.

“I’ll be cheering you on every second,” Azzi murmured, pulling Y/N closer. “And when you get back, we’ll celebrate together. I promise.”

______________________________________________________________________

As Y/N packed their bags for the Olympic training camp, their Basket Landes teammates rallied around them one last time, offering their congratulations and support. Marie and Clarince gave Y/N a big hug before they left.

“We’re so proud of you. Go out there and show them what you’ve got,” Clarince said, her voice full of emotion.

“Don’t forget us little people when you’re an Olympic star,” Marie teased, but there was nothing but sincerity in her words.

Y/N laughed, feeling the love from their teammates. “I’ll never forget you guys. You’re all a part of this.”

______________________________________________________________________

As Y/N boarded the plane for the Olympic training camp, they felt a mixture of nerves and excitement. The journey was just beginning, but everything they had worked for was within their reach.

And through it all, they knew one thing for certain: they had Azzi by their side, cheering them on every step of the way.

This was their dream, and nothing—absolutely nothing—was going to stop them from reaching it.

______________________________________________________________________

The Olympic Games had been a whirlwind of highs and lows for Y/N. After months of grueling preparation, the time had finally arrived for their team to play in the gold medal final against the mighty USA. The Arena de Paris was filled to the brim with fans cheering for France, and Y/N, now a key member of the team, could feel the weight of the moment. The crowd’s energy was electric, but they were focused. They had trained for this. Every drill, every practice, every sacrifice had led to this game.

Azzi, KK, Paige, and the entire Basket Landes team had flown in to see Y/N play, standing by the sidelines, ready to show their unwavering support. The weight of the moment didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N, especially knowing that they weren’t alone in this journey. The love and support from Azzi made everything seem possible.

______________________________________________________________________

The final was intense—USA and France battled relentlessly, with both teams showcasing their immense talent. Y/N played a phenomenal game, as did Leila, who had also been called up to the Olympic team. But with only seconds left on the clock, it was clear that the game was slipping from their grasp. The score stood at USA 67, France 66 as the final buzzer sounded. A wave of disappointment swept over the team, as they realized they had fallen just short of winning the gold.

For a moment, Y/N stood frozen on the court, feeling the weight of the loss. Their teammates were already gathered, trying to console each other, but Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of missing something that had meant so much. As they walked off the court, their gaze met Azzi’s from the stands. Azzi gave a small, reassuring smile, her eyes saying everything that words could not. There was pride in her gaze, and she would be there to support them no matter the outcome.

After the game, as emotions ran high, Sabrina Ionescu walked over to Y/N, the player from the USA team, who had played an incredible match. As they stood by the locker room, Sabrina spoke up. “Hey, you played amazing out there. You deserve this,” she said, offering a genuine smile. “I’d love to swap jerseys with you if you’re up for it.”

Y/N smiled, a mix of emotions swirling within them. “It’d be an honor.”

They exchanged jerseys—Y/N now holding the USA jersey, a symbol of the fierce competition they had just fought—and for Sabrina, receiving the France jersey from one of the brightest stars in the game.

______________________________________________________________________

After the Olympics ended, Y/N and their teammates flew back to their lovely town. Though the sting of the loss was still fresh, the pride they felt in earning silver was undeniable. Luisa, who had also played brilliantly throughout the tournament, had secured the third-place medal for Germany, and Y/N together with Leila (who contributed immensely), they celebrated their collective success.

But what awaited Y/N at the apartment wasn’t just the quiet reflection of their Olympic journey—it was a celebration of what they had accomplished, and they were about to be surrounded by the people who had supported them all along: Azzi, Paige, KK, and the girls from Basket Landes.

The door swung open, and the first thing Y/N heard was a chorus of cheers. “Surprise!” Louise and Sixtine grinned as they popped open bottles of champagne. “We’re here to celebrate—Olympic silver is no small feat!”

Y/N grinned, feeling a surge of warmth as Azzi wrapped their arms around them, holding them close. “You were incredible,” Azzi whispered. “I’m so proud of you. Gold or silver, you’re a champion to me.”

As the night went on, laughter filled the apartment. The Basket Landes team took it upon themselves to tease Y/N in the most loving way.

Destiny leaned in, winking. “Okay, Y/N, now that you’ve got Olympic silver, when’s the parade for us in Basket Landes? We need a celebration of our own, huh?”

The entire room erupted in laughter. Myriam playfully added, “Well, at least now you’re one step closer to having as many medals as Azzi!”

Y/N rolled their eyes, though they couldn’t help but smile. “Okay, I see what this is. I leave for a few weeks, and now you’re all turning into comedians?”

Marie laughed. “We’re just trying to remind you that we’re still the OG squad. Don’t forget who got you here!”

The banter continued, with teasing and laughter flowing freely. The support from the team was palpable, and Y/N realized just how lucky they were to be surrounded by such an amazing group of people. And then there was Azzi, who stood by them through it all—celebrating the victories, comforting in the losses, and always showing love.

______________________________________________________________________

As the evening wore on, the celebration became more intimate. Azzi and Y/N found a quiet corner of the apartment, away from the noise of the party.

“Come here, you,” Azzi whispered, pulling Y/N close. Their lips met in a soft, lingering kiss, and for a moment, the world outside faded. It was just the two of them, holding onto each other, letting the love they shared heal the sting of defeat.

“I’m so proud of you,” Azzi murmured against Y/N’s lips. “This is just the beginning. I know next time we’ll get that gold.”

Y/N smiled, their heart full. “Next time,” they whispered back. “But for now, I’m just happy to be with you.”

______________________________________________________________________

As the night came to a close and the group celebrated the success of the Olympics, Y/N couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude. They had earned silver at the most prestigious sporting event in the world, they had Azzi by their side, and they had an incredible team waiting for them back in Basket Landes.

Though the game had ended in defeat, Y/N knew that this was just one chapter of a much larger story. They had come so far, and there was no limit to what they could achieve next. With Azzi and the Basket Landes girls by their side, and the promise of more victories to come, Y/N felt ready for whatever the future held.

It wasn’t about the gold. It was about the journey—and the people who made it worthwhile.

The night ended with a toast to Luisa, Leila, and Y/N—the three players who had given everything for Germany and France had emerged with medals to prove it. But most importantly, it was a celebration of love, friendship, and the unbreakable bonds they had formed along the way.

[tired-teacher-blog]

In the waiting room

Characters : Kirishima/ Fem reader

Warnings and Genre : NSFW/ 18+/ Handjob/ Fluff/ Cum eating/ One Shot

Notes : Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

• So, has anyone ever thought of professional boxer Kirishima? Just me? Okay cool.

Masterlist|Second Masterlist|Third Masterlist

A man who's nothing less than a beast in front of his opponents, and nothing more than a little puppy when you're around.

He's ripped, barely fits in his gym clothes, arms and chest are covered in tattoos and multiple scars -courtesy of the countless matches he's been involved in so far- striking fear in the bones of men, and lust in the hearts of women.

He's a legend in the world of combat sports, with many championship belts, trophies and medals with his name on them, everyone both hates, and wants to be him, it's a paradox really, and that's how impactful this man can be.

_ "You're an idiot," you grumble under your breath while gently using a gauze swab to clean the cut under his left eye, "this could have been bad."

_ "I'm sorry babe so please don't be mad at me, it's just that I got distracted by how beautiful you looked while cheering for me." a goofy smile appears on his face as he casually slips a hand under your skirt and slides it up slowly, only to retract it a moment after with a wince of pain when you intentionally dabbed at the wound a bit too harshly.

_ "Stop joking around will you?" you are definitely not amused, and the irritated expression on your face, says it all.

_ "It's fine love, I won didn't I?" he expresses cheerfully, puffing his chest and chuckling cutely, but you still do not find it funny.

_ "You really are an idiot huh?" you slap a band-aid on him before collecting the first aid kit and standing up from your seat with a roll of your eyes, "do you think winning is what's on my mind right now? I just want you to be safe you clueless asshole."

_ "So you were just worried about me?" and it seems as if he has just made a grand discovery, the spark in his eye is blinding and the stupid smile on his face is endearing, and you almost break into laughter yourself, watching the duality of this man's intimidating appearance, and pure heart.

A duality only you can witness.

_ "Of course I was, you big jerk." you finally give in to your giggles, cradling his cheeks and smoothing your thumb over the covered wound apologetically.

A shriek suddenly escapes you when he effortlessly picks you up in his arms and spins you around, banging on his chest and demanding to be put down between uncontrollabe laughter.

You know him well enough to realise what he has in mind, but you refuse to give in too easily as you were still on the arena's ground –albeit in his fancy waiting room, tucked away from the prying eyes of his fans and reporters who wish for nothing more than a glimpse of their champion.

_ "Come on sweetheart please, no one would dare come near our door, trust me." he cooes cutely, almost pathetically to be honest, while plopping down on the comfy sofa with you on his lap.

It's useless to ask of him to wait until you reach home, his patience is running thin already, and the forming bulge poking your thigh is enough proof of that.

You sigh defeatedly and plant a small peck under the bruise surrounding his cut, "okay but we can't go all the way here."

He nods his head enthusiastically and leans back against the backrest of the sofa with an excited expression on his face as you start running your fingers over the protruding muscles of his chest, secretly grateful he is still in his boxing shorts and nothing else.

You wiggle yourself a bit and reach down to palm his clothed cock, giving it a few teasing squeezes while your lips latch onto his tense jaw.

_ "Baby please, stop tormenting me." he breathes out the plea, eyes squeezing shut and hips bucking against the slow movements of your hand.

He clutches onto your butt cheeks and pulls you even closer to himself, little moans of your name are fanning over your ear and travelling straight to your loins as the caresses on his bulge quicken.

He isn't the only one enjoying himself, oh definitely not, because watching him this desperate for your touch and craving a release that only you can grant him, is a reward in itself.

Your kisses move lower, from his jawline to his neck, and your teeth graze the sensitive skin covering his wild pulse while swiftly slipping your hand into his shorts to free the raging shaft from its confinement.

_ "Oh, what do we have here? A few little touches got you all worked up?" you whisper the remark teasingly, stroking the smooth head and admiring the clear precum collected on your thumb.

_ "This is on you princess, your hand is so warm and soft so please don't stop." his breathing is labored and hips are restless as he chased the blissful feeling of your fist around his cock, and you gladly give him what he wants, tightening your hold as you pumped him faster, and relishing the little twitches against your palm along with the blunt nails pressing into your thighs as your cute little skirt rode up around your waist.

You kiss him on the lips, effectively silencing the thirsty growls escaping his throat while he devours the smirk appearing on your face as his hand moved to encircle your own and guide it to move even faster.

He is desperate and itching for release, and seeing him in this state is coaxing a pleasant heat to pool into the pit of your tummy as you wished to have him buried deep inside you when he finally reaches his high, but that needs to wait until later, until you're home together, away from everyone who is certainly still clinging to the hope of seeing him tonight.

_ "Fuck.. fuck.. fuck.. baby girl I'm cumming!" he breaks the kiss to rasp out the words, moving the hand that's been holding your thigh, to gently cradle your neck instead. It's his way of bringing your face towards him as he cums, the image of you is what he wants carved into his brain when he finally loses control.

_ "Go ahead Eijiro, let it all out honey." you coo sweetly, biting down on your lip as he whined louder, and that is all it took for the ropes of his pearly seeds to erupt from his tip and coat your hand and his.

A wide smile finds its way to his flushed face as he finally relaxed underneath you, but then a sudden darkness creeps in his eyes as you moved your glistening fingers to your lips, licking and sucking every single digit clean.

_ "Yummy." and your teasing continues towards your poor boyfriend whose mouth is hanging open while watching you in awe, but then a sharp squeal tears past your throat as you found yourself on your back, sinking into the plush sofa with his menacing frame hovering over your writhing body.

_ "I'm sorry princess but you're being so unfair." and his hands are already stripping off your clothes as he spoke.

You should have known the moment you walked into the room with him, that just a little bit of touching would not be nearly enough to quench his insufferable thirst for you, not that you mind going further anyway.

_ "Okay Eijiro, I'm all yours."

[wrestlingmgc]

Impact Knockouts World Tag Team Champions The IInspiration

[dozyisdead]

I’ve never really thought about how lonely it must be to be a “First” until I got into F1. I’d like to explore that a little bit with you guys if you don’t mind.

1. Sir Lewis Hamilton

We all know what makes him a First, but there’s layers to it. Lewis is the First Black driver, First Black point scorer, First Black race winner, First Black championship winner. He is a lot of Firsts, and he’s set and broken so many records, he’s become so decorated. He’s a master of his craft, but that is where it gets lonely. I don’t know if many realize it, but racism is rampant in the world, despite how many will deny it, and it’s very rampant in Europe. Yes, I can’t speak much as an American, but at the same time we do not deny it and try to hide it so vehemently as some of Europe does. And in that world Lewis has talked about being called racial slurs from a young age, when he was still in karting. There’s a specific interview I keep thinking of, and it breaks my heart every time I think of it. Lewis has been set alone from the second he started, and he has never been to blame for it. But him being a First has become so Important, and I know he has people that make it known that he is not alone.

2. Zhou Guanyu

I don’t think people realize this, But Zhou is the first and only Chinese F1 driver to ever race. He has become a pillar of movement in that act, in a way like Lewis. I know there are obvious differences in their positions, but it’s still a monumental feat. We have know that F1 is dominated by Europeans, and yes there have been asian drivers before him, but to be the First for your country? It’s a position filled with pressure and can often be isolating, especially when you take language and culture into consideration. Not only is he one of two Asian drivers on the grid, he’s the only one who speaks his language. And I’m speaking from the perspective of someone who’s learning other languages when I say English is hell to learn. It’s my first language and I do not understand it at all, I can’t imagine how hard it is for someone who’s uses completely different characters like Yuki or Zhou. But Zhou, he is loved, and I wish people would acknowledge the steps he has made as a First, as someone who opened a door for others.

3. Logan Sargeant

The first American on the gird to score points in over 30 years. Yes, there had been other American drivers since Andretti’s 1993 season, Scott Speed and Alexander Rossi, but they did not score points. There’s actually something that I would like to point out regarding one of his predecessors, Mr. Speed, as they both completed a season and a half. But, that’s beside the point. Logan, be the first in a long time, in this century, is a lonely thing. There’s other drivers who I think can attest to that, but I feel like it’s a very unique thing, especially when you come from a place where something like F1 isn’t as big as say NASCAR, or even Indy. It’s a little film of separation that you can feel, no matter if it’s as thin as a spider web.

4. Ralf Schumacher

The First openly homosexual former driver who raced in F1, it’s a beautiful feeling to know he’s become comfortable enough to share it. I can imagine the hell it caused him mentally and emotionally to be in such a position that made it to where every moment could be taken out of context. And I would like to point out the impact he made, by not revealing it until later. The fact that we knew him first as a good driver and not as “the gay man in F1” is so important and people might not understand that. He is a First of ground-shaking proportions, and I sometimes wish we could have known sooner, but I also understand him so well. I’m the first openly queer person in my family, and as the first openly queer person in a partially south asian family, it’s terrifying. I can’t imagine how it would have been for him, in what we call the peak of motorsports, in a sport that has so much distaste for even women participating, if someone who was queer was to try. He has put himself on a pedestal that shows others that it’s okay to exist in that world, not just drive. You, Ralf Schumacher, have done so much more than you can think.

There are MANY more, I know, but those three have stood out to me recently. Everyone has their own little pedestal that they stand on, that shows how unique they are, but there is nothing quite like a First. I have so much love for all of these men, and so much joy and sorrow for them.

Being a First is lonely, I know it well and I have learned it well, but when you are in a sport that gives you no privacy like F1, it becomes even lonelier. They are human, and as other Firsts in our own lives and worlds, we must not forget that.

[could-they-be-a-pro-wrestler]

This is a poll blog that asks the question…could your favorite fictional character be a pro wrestler? Would you like to submit a character? Click this link if you do!

[coochiequeens]

An update to an older story that’s goods news!

When Jenny Nguyen signed the lease to create her dream bar, she wasn’t sure it would stay open for more than a few months.

But earlier this month, 43-year-old Nguyen’s first-of-its-kind establishment in Portland, Oregon, celebrated its one-year anniversary. Aptly named The Sports Bra, it’s a sports bar where only women athletes appear on the TVs.

Business has been good, despite the niche business model and record inflation sending food and beverage prices soaring. The Sports Bra brought in $944,000 in revenue in the eight months it was open in 2022, according to documents reviewed by CNBC Make It.

It was profitable in that first year of business, Nguyen adds.

“It turns out, it’s pretty universal — that feeling of being a women’s sports fan and going into a public place, like a sports bar, and having a difficult time finding a place to show a [women’s] game, especially when there are other men’s sports playing,” Nguyen says.

Initially, she wasn’t sure the idea would work at all. The vast majority of money and attention historically goes to men’s sports only — a big reason why The Sports Bra was reportedly the country’s first bar to only play women’s sports on TV.

It’s also not the kind of thing Nguyen would ordinarily do: She describes herself as “very cautious, risk averse.” But her obsession with women’s sports and frustration with its lack of representation on television screens drove her to empty her life savings — about $27,000 — and give it a try.

“Me, personally, I thought the idea was brilliant and that [it was] what the world needs,” Nguyen says. “But I had no idea that the world would want it. I just wanted to give it a shot.”

How The Sports Bra went from running joke to reality

Nguyen is a lifelong basketball fan who played the sport at Clark College in Vancouver, Washington, before tearing her ACL. She’s also a longtime restaurant worker who spent three years as Reed College’s executive chef.

In 2018, Nguyen and a group of friends wanted to watch the NCAA women’s basketball championship game. They went to a mostly empty sports bar and still had to plead with a bartender to switch one of the smallest TVs — which played without sound — from a men’s sport to the women’s championship game, she recalls.

Together, they jumped up and down celebrating “one of the best games I’ve ever seen,” Nguyen says, as a buzzer-beating three-point shot sealed the championship title for Notre Dame. Afterward, she was struck by the normalcy of her situation.

″[We’d] gotten so used to watching a game like that in the way that we did,” she says, adding that they’d only find better viewing conditions “if we had our own place.”

Days later, she channeled her disappointment into a hypothetical: What would she name her bar? “The very first thing that came into my mind was The Sports Bra,” Nguyen says. “And once I thought it, I couldn’t un-think it, you know? It was catchy. I thought it was hilarious.”

For years, she joked about it. Then, the fallout from social justice movements like #MeToo and the country’s racial reckoning after George Floyd’s murder left her wanting to make a meaningful impact on the world and her community.

Nguyen, who came out as a lesbian at age 17, says she doesn’t always feel welcome at most traditional sports bars. The Sports Bra could help her, and anyone else who’d rarely felt accepted in other sports establishments, feel like she belonged.

“I thought about, if we can even get one kid in here and have them feel like they belong in sports, it’d be worth it,” she says.

Helping other women’s sports bars get started

At first, Nguyen had her savings, and $40,000 in loans cobbled together from friends and family. That would keep The Sports Bra afloat for three months, based on her cost estimates for labor, inventory and other overhead.

In February 2022, she launched a Kickstarter to raise $48,000 — enough money for an extra six-month financial cushion, to build up the sort of regular clientele any bar or restaurant needs to survive long-term.

To Nguyen’s surprise, the campaign raised more than $105,000 in just 30 days, thanks to a viral article in online food publication Eater. “At that moment, when I was looking at that Kickstarter graph, I thought to myself, ‘This might work,’” she says.

But the money, which came from around the country and world, was no guarantee of success. Actual people in Portland still needed to frequent the bar.

Today, there’s often a line out the door. Women’s basketball icons like Sue Bird and Diana Taurasi showed up, for an event sponsored by Buick, earlier this month. Ginny Gilder, co-owner of the WNBA’s Seattle Storm, has even waited in line to watch her team play on The Sports Bra’s TVs, Nguyen says.

That’s a far cry from the Kickstarter days, which Nguyen says only happened after she was denied business loans by multiple banks and small business associations. The denials commonly cited the high risk of a unique concept run by a first-time entrepreneur during a pandemic, she adds.

Even the bar’s core concept is a struggle: It’s hard to find enough women’s sporting events to fill up the televisions. Only about 5% of all TV sports coverage focuses on female athletes, according to a 2021 University of Southern California study.

Nguyen says she’s taken to reaching out directly to sports networks and streaming services, some of which have hooked her up with access to more women’s sports content. She also spends an inordinate amount of time “scouring” TV listings, a process she likens to “taking a machete and chopping through a jungle.”

But she’s no longer alone. Another bar specializing in women’s sports has opened in nearby Seattle, and Nguyen says she’s in touch with a handful of other prospective entrepreneurs asking her for advice on opening similar visions in other cities.

“I would love to have as many people experience the feeling people experience when they walk through these doors,” she says. “It feels very selfish to keep it to this one building that holds 40 people at a time.”

[thescarletnargacuga]

I have an idea! :D A boxer! Au (by @/burrotello) where pomni is tired after a fight, and Caine is with her talking. then it turns somehow in a romantic moment

A/N: Boxer AU! Let's gooooo!

KNOCK OUT

A BOXER AU ONESHOT

AU credit: @burrotello

WARNING: physical violence, blood

~~~

The seconds counted down on the ninth round. Gangle was torn and frayed, her mask cracked. Pomni was bruised and bleeding, one eye refusing to open from the swelling. Both women circled each other looking for an opening, but they couldn't delay, if time ran out the match would be called a draw and neither of them would advance.

Gangle swung a wide haymaker for Pomni's ribs, which was blocked. While Pomni's hands were down, Gangle's other fist came up to strike Pomni in the face.Pomni's head jerked back harshly from the impact and she went down.

Caine circles the outside of the ring to where Pomni fell. "COME ON!! GET UP!! YOU CAN FINISH THIS!!" He shouted over the roaring crowd.

The ref counted the precious seconds Pomni had to recover. "One! Two! Three!"

Pomni rolled onto her knees and shakily lifted herself up, clinging to the ring ropes for support. She spit blood and saliva out from her gum guard.

"Four! Five! Six!" The ref continued. Pomni needed to show signs that she could keep fighting or he would call her defeated by the end of the ten count.

Caine sweated hearing how close the ref was to calling the match over. "I KNOW YOU CAN DO THIS!! LAST ROUND!! LAST CHANCE!!"

Pomni made eye contact with Caine. She was exhausted, but his encouragement gave her a second wind. She got off the ropes and steadied herself for the final minute left on the clock.

"Seven! Eigh-" The ref stopped counting and backed away, allowing the round to continue. "Box!"

Gangle couldn't hide her frustration that Pomni didn't stay down. Her ribbons whipped wildly across the ring as she aggressively went in for the kill.

Pomni stayed focused, ducking under two swings and taking a jab of opportunity at Gangle's center mass. She quickly sidestepped and swung a hard right hook into Gangle's ribs from behind.

Gangle was desperate, throwing wild swing after wild swing just hoping one would land.

Pomni went low to dodge a swing and saw a window of opportunity. She clenched her right hand and came up with all the power she could muster, upper cutting Gangle hard in the chin.

Gangle's mask nearly shattered, tiny fragments flew in all directions. She collapsed and didn't get up.

The ref checked Gangle. "KNOCK OUT!" The bell rang and the crowd went ballistic.

Caine was jumping up and down like a wild man. "YEAAAAAH! THAT'S MY GIRL!!"

The ref took Pomni's wrist and held it in the air. She was barely standing, but still took in the moment of victory. It was well deserved. The arena announcer came over the speakers. "Lightweight rookie Pomni has cemented her place in the SEMI-FINALS!"

As Pomni's adrenaline slowly faded, she felt too weak to stand. Medics that arrived to take away Gangle also helped Pomni out of the ring. Caine followed them out of the arena, leaving the deafening crowds behind.

Pomni was sat and Caine forced himself to her side, shouldering a medic in his excitement. "Pomni! Pomni! You were fantastic out there! That's the kind of grit and determination that makes a fighter! You have the championship in the bag!"

Pomni spat out her gum guard, along with another mouthful of blood and spit. "Thash grape..." She slurred heavily and coughed. Everything hurt. She could tell just by breathing she had cracked ribs.

The medic Caine pushed aside, pushed back. "Hey, I'm trying to do my job here."

Caine backed off, hands up in surrender. "I'll leave you to it. I'll be back in a bit, Pomni!" He ran off and found Bubble "Sooooo how much money did we make?" He giddily asked his assistant.

"You're gonna love this, boss. That win, along with a win from a certain bet against a certain someone, we just made over $30,000."

Caine's jaw almost hit the floor. "Hot tamales! I knew it, Bubble! She's the one! She's our million dollar fighter!" He grabbed Bubble and shook him. "Oh, I can't wait to wipe the snooty grin off of the Gloink Queen's face! We're coming for her champion, baby! Ha!"

"ThAaAt'sss GRreAat, bOoOosSs." Bubbled words warped with his body from the shaking.

~

The next day, Pomni woke up sore in her hotel room. She was heavily bandaged and it hurt to move, but she found herself feeling hungry. Just as she was sitting herself up to reach for pain meds, someone knocked on her door.

"Room service." Caine's voice came from the other side.

Pomni furrowed her brows in amusement and slowly got to her feet. Once upright, walking wasn't too bad. She answered the door in an oversized T-shirt covering most of her. "Hey..." She said with a sleepy smile.

Caine was holding a tray of food from the hotel cafeteria. "Good morning!"

Pomni winced. "Tone it down, would you? My ears are still ringing."

"Sorry. I brought you breakfast before they stopped serving. You've been asleep all morning."

Pomni didn't even know what time it was, nor did she really care. "Right...well, I won't say no to breakfast in bed." She opened the door wider to let Caine in.

Caine hadn't expected to be invited in, but he wasn't going to refuse. He set the tray on the bed and sat in the chair across from it. "What a show yesterday. Real nail biter. I'm so glad you pulled through."

Pomni sat on the bed next to her tray and munched a piece of toast. "Yeah, I'll be honest. I wasn't sure about this one. Gangle is a beast when you push her hard enough. She nearly took out my eye." She pointed to the bandage covering her left eye. The swelling had gone down significantly, but it was going to need more time to heal completely.

"If she had, she would have been disqualified. While she can certainly be rough, I don't think she would have jeopardized her position in the semi-finals over your eye. That being said, I'm glad she didn't hurt you any more than that." Caine's eyes roamed over Pomni's body, examining each bruise and bandage. He lingered a bit longer on her bare legs, she was wearing only underwear under her large shirt hanging off her shoulder.

"Ribs took quite a beating. So did my shoulder. I'll be fine, but this recovery is going to suck." She laughed but gripped her side and sucked in air between her teeth. Laughing was a no no until further notice. "Ow..."

Caine shook himself from distraction and dug in his pocket for a small pill bottle. "Here, take two of these. They'll help you rest."

"What is it?" Pomni asked before downing them both with a swig of orange juice.

"Let's just say they're really strong pain killers. You'll feel better in no time."

Pomni learned that when Caine was vague, sometimes it was in her best interest not to ask more questions. She took a bit of egg. "Thank you, by the way."

"Don't mention it. It pays to have friends in the pharmacy." He chuckled.

"Not that. Well, yeah, thank you for that, but I mean thank you for cheering me on when the fight got really hairy. If you weren't there, I don't think I would have finished." She gave him a genuine smile.

Caine's breath was taken from him for a second. Her looking at him like that with her hair disheveled and clothes so relaxed was doing something for him. He blushed and tried to hide it, though very poorly. "Hey, what are managers for? I told you we could go far and look at us now! On our way to the semi-finals for the champion title! And you know what that comes with..." He rubbed his fingers together.

"Money." Pomni rolled her eyes with an amused smirk.

"MONEY!" Caine shouted, hushing himself when Pomni winced again. "Sorry."

"Save the cheering for the arena." Pomni finished her breakfast, pushing the tray away.

"Oh, I don't need to be in the arena to cheer your name." Caine said faster than his head could process.

"What..?" Pomni blushed a little, more caught off guard than embarrassed.

"What? Uh, I'll take that downstairs for you." Caine got up quickly, red as a beet, and grabbed the tray. "I should let you sleep, you need it if you're going to be champion. We have to travel again tomorrow. Media events, training, etcetera. You need to be extra ready for your next opponent. They only get tougher from here." He clumsily backed away from her, struggling to keep the empty cutlery on the tray.

"Okay....bye...see you....uh?" Pomni watched him side-step awkwardly to the door.

"Tomorrow morning. You have the whole day to yourself. Yep. Call the front desk if you need anything. I've got uh...a thing. Bye." He dropped a napkin on his way out the door.

Pomni smiled to herself and relaxed in bed. The pain killers did their job, she felt so much better. She could breath without wanting to scream. She turned on the TV, but all her mind wanted to do was think of what Caine said. How nervous he was afterwards was adorable, and he was rarely cute. Everything he's done for her, even in his own interests, has made them close friends, but was it normal to have a crush on your manager?

~

Caine wanted to smack himself. Why did he say that out loud? She didn't need to hear that. What if she thinks he's creeping on her? He can't jeopardize this!! He wished his heart would stop beating so fast.