#Phenom X

[raurquiz]

#happybirthday #JenniferLien #actress #Kes #startrek #voyager #americanhistoryx #slcpunk #phenom #AnotherWorld #AccidentsDontHappen #startrek57 @TrekMovie @TrekCore @StarTrek @StarTrekOnPPlus

[rabbits-of-negative-euphoria]

if you’re a man who thinks about the Roman Empire

[illaisland]

He's SO turned on by her mental math abilities lmaoooo

Look at his face. Look at it.

He's like, "damn...she's so smart". *swoon*

Literally him in his head ^^^

[andyisbleeding]

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: World Wrestling Entertainment, World Wrestling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: The Undertaker (Professional Wrestling)/Reader Characters: The Undertaker (Professional Wrestling), Paul Bearer | Percy Pringle III Summary:

You had only been with the WWF for a few months when you finally run into the dead man one on one.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

The Return

Batter Up Chapter 7

Pairing: Baseball player Joel Miller x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: After a month of being away from the game and the girl he loves, Joel Miller is back and ready to play. Warnings: smut, making a sex tape, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (reader has an IUD), cream pie, also regular pie, joel miller's dirty mouth, wine. Words: 5,000

A/N: Thank you to my dearest @devineconjuring and her beautiful brain for beta'ing and being my grammar goddess.

Masterlist Playlist

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The crowd chants Joel’s name, lights flicker through the stadium, the ground feels like it’s shaking beneath his feet. He loves this feeling—the rush of adrenaline coursing through him, the loud crowd drowning out every doubt he’s ever felt. After three weeks on the injured list and another week rehabbing in the minors–a month away from the big leagues–Joel Miller is back.

He walks to the plate, digging his heels into the dirt and tapping his bat against the plate as he soaks in the moment. 

“Miller, good to see you back,” the catcher says.

Joel nods, and grunts an acknowledgment back.

His eyes settle on the pitcher, some young phenom throwing 99-mph with almost every pitch. Don’t worry kid, you’ll get old like me.

The first pitch whooshes past him—ball one. 

Ball two.

Strike one.

The pitcher’s keeping it a little outside, Joel inches closer to the plate, squaring up. The pitcher winds up again, Joel takes a deep breath, feeling the vibration of the bat as it connects with the ball. The crack of the bat reverberates through the stadium as the ball soars past the infield, over the outfield, and disappears beyond the right-field fence.

Home run.

The crowd erupts, the celebratory bell tolls as he rounds the bases. His eyes scan the club box above third base, finding you amidst the cheering fans, your arms raised high, that smile of yours lighting up his heart.

Joel Miller is back, doing what he loves, and now in front of the woman he loves.

__

You’re so proud of him. You wipe the tears from your eyes as Joel’s feet touch home base. His recovery wasn’t easy. Every week away from the game for someone as old as him means double the work versus a young kid just in the game. Forty year olds aren’t known for being pro athletes. 

With the long Labor Day weekend, you were able to take time off from work and travel by train to Philadelphia to witness Joel's celebrated comeback, which had turned into a legend after his grand slam. Suddenly, all of your worries are lifted away. The stress of telling your families that you're a couple, your demanding job as a column writer at Sporting Digest that revolves around the ebb and flow of games, trades, and record breaking moments–none of it matters now.

Your responsibilities at work have been stacking up over the past few weeks. Churning out articles on everything from college football predictions to analyses of NBA draft picks. When you were hired you agreed to not cover baseball, what with the conflict of interest and all. Now, you dream of the headlines you could write about your boyfriend’s triumphant return. 

You’ve barely been able to leave your laptop. Last week, you spent three days shadowing a tennis star at the US Open, scribbling notes on her training and the pressure of being labeled the “next big thing.” You’ve barely had time to breathe, let alone do laundry, go grocery shopping, and, most importantly, be there for Joel. You put in countless hours of work to make this long weekend possible, just so you could witness his big comeback firsthand. 

“Heck of a player that Miller is,” you hear the TV in the corner say. “He sure knows how to show everyone he’s still got it, doesn’t he?” 

You clutch his number dangling from your neck, you’re so proud of him, always proving everybody wrong. Well worth every sacrifice. 

__

The Liberties win, 4-0, all thanks to Joel’s grand slam in the first inning. Sports radio is going to have a field day with this. 

You make your way down to the stadium’s corridors, where staff rush around with more important tasks than yours. 

The Liberties clubhouse sits just ahead of you, the two large blue doors stay closed to onlookers. You rest your back against the cold cinder block wall and send Joel a text, telling him to take his time.

A year ago, you never could’ve imagined this. Joel Miller—rugged, no-nonsense baseball star, the man who occupied your teenage dreams—now your boyfriend. The man who keeps your favorite pasta sauce in his pantry. The man who goes mattress shopping with you. It feels surreal, yet so real at the same time.

Every time that damn blue door opens your heart skips a beat, hoping you’ll find Joel walking out. False alarm after false alarm. 

Until…

Joel emerges, hair slicked back, wearing a gray Liberties shirt, khaki pants, and those cheesy white New Balance sneakers you tease him relentlessly about. Joel, you’re way too rich to be wearing these damn ragged shoes. 

“Hi baby,” he smiles as he wraps his arms around you, pushing you further against the wall. 

“Hi,” you breathlessly respond, smelling the body wash on his skin. Damn, he showered. “Good game.”

“It was, wasn’t it?”

You can’t help but smile at how happy he is, back where he belongs, doing what he loves.

“Come on,” he says, pulling you close. “Let’s go celebrate.” His arm stays around your waist as he leads you through the corridors to his car.

It’s so freeing now, being able to cheer for—and love—Joel out in the open, for all eyes to see.

__

“You know you made me cry today, right?” you say, reaching for his hand resting on your thigh.

“I did, huh?” he replies with a smirk on his face.

He always looks so confident as he drives. Philly’s narrow streets, filled with potholes and pedestrians, are nothing like Austin’s, but he navigates them as effortlessly as he does everything else—injuries, tough teammates, media storms. He handles it all like he handles a fastball: with ease.

“Yeah, I’m really proud of you,” you tell him softly, grabbing his hand harder. “I know I’ve said it a hundred times, but I’m just so happy to be here for you.”

He smiles that quiet Joel smile. “That’s how I feel watching you handle everything too.”

"So, where are we headed?" you ask, noticing you're not on the route to his apartment. “I hope I’m dressed okay,” you say, looking down at your simple red gingham dress. 

"It’s a surprise. You’ll be fine, you look beautiful baby," he says.

The car winds through the city. You glance over, watching the city lights flicker across his face as the car turns off the main road, slipping into a quieter neighborhood.

The car pulls up to a small, unassuming brick building tucked away on a quiet side street. No flashy sign, no valet—just a discreet, vintage lantern hangs above the door. It’s definitely a place Joel prefers. 

He turns off the car and turns to you, his hand still resting on your thigh. “Thought we’d keep it low-key,” his deep voice rumbles in the quiet of the car.

You nod, your smile widening. “Perfect.”

He steps out of the car and, ever the gentleman, comes around to open your door before guiding you toward the entrance. You wrap your arm around his, leaning into his warmth as he leads you inside.

—

“Mr. Miller, welcome to Vetri Cucina. We’re happy to have you here. Let me show you to your table.”

“Silvio," Joel says with a firm handshake. "Good to see you. Thanks."

Your eyes scan the cozy space. Shiny worn floorboards, warm amber walls, a glistening chandelier that hangs from the low ceiling–you’ve never seen a place like this before. Little did you know that behind the unassuming brick row home exterior there would be a whole functional restaurant. It feels like the perfect mix of a place for the two of you, rustic and intimate.

Silvio leads you both up a narrow staircase to a private room on the second floor. A table for two sits in the center of the room. A red glass chandelier hangs above it, candlelights flickering shadows across the golden walls.. 

“So, we’re still hiding our dinners with each other away from prying eyes?” you tease as Joel pulls the chair out for you and you take a seat.  

“Not exactly,” he says, taking your hand in his. “I just wanted to show off that I can get us a private table at one of the best restaurants in Philly.”

You laugh. “I’m sure there’s a Golden Corral around here.”

Joel chuckles. “Very funny. But trust me—you’ll love it here. They’ve got all the fancy dishes with those French words you like.”

“You know me too well.”

“Better than you think,” he says, his eyes gleaming under the golden light.

—

A waiter approaches, a polished smile on his face. “Good evening, and welcome. My name is Royal, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. We have a special tasting menu prepared just for you, personally selected by our chef. It’ll start with an appetizer, followed by a pasta course, a main, and dessert.” 

Your mouth waters as Royal pours you a glass of wine. 

”Each course will be paired with a wine from our grand collection. Your first course will be out shortly. In the meantime, is there anything else I can bring you?”

Joel shakes his head. “We’re all set, thanks.”

“Wow,” you say once the waiter leaves, glancing around the elegantly set table. “I feel a little underdressed for a tasting menu.”

Joel shrugs. “I have a feeling they won’t care what we’re wearing once I pay the bill. Besides,” he says with a smile, “I like you in that red dress.”

“Atta boy, Texas,” you say, smiling as you sip your wine.

—

After a couple courses of delicious appetizers that you happily eat, but Joel barely touches, the water returns, presenting the main course with a flourish. 

"For your entrée, we have our signature dish: salt-crusted tilapia with a bread salad of parsley and tomatoes, alongside grilled artichokes on a bed of smoked squash puree."

You glance at Joel as the waiter expertly cracks the salt crust, revealing the perfectly cooked fish underneath. You know Joel hates fish and artichokes. The waiter sets down two glasses of white wine and disappears, leaving you both alone with the dish.

"Baby, what are you going to do?" you ask, eyes wide as Joel picks up his fork.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m here to impress you,” he says with determination before spearing a piece of the fish. He takes a bite, his nose crinkling ever so slightly as he chews.

“How is it?” you ask, biting back a smile.

Joel grimaces. “I’ve had better.”

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “Please don’t eat it. I know the only fish you like is fried.”

“Always been more of a Filet O Fish man myself.”

“I don’t think they’ve got tartar sauce here, so please, for me, don’t force yourself.”

He sets down his fork with a relieved sigh, his hand finding yours again. “Anything for you.”

When the waiter returns, he doesn’t comment on Joel’s barely touched plate, but you notice a subtle, appreciative smile as he clears away your empty dish.

“Well,” you say, leaning back, happy and full from dinner. “At least there’s dessert.”

“Never said no to dessert,” he chuckles, before looking you in the eyes with adoration. 

"You know," he begins, his voice low and serious, "I couldn't have done this without you. Coming back after my injury—”

Joel's voice trails off as he searches for the right words. His eyes stare into yours. You squeeze his hand encouragingly, needing to hear more. 

“It wasn’t just physical,” he continues. “It was mental. Wondering if I still had it within me, if I was too old, if it was time for me to hang up my cleats. But you—you never doubted me for a second.”

Tears pool in your eyes as his thumb brushes back and forth against your knuckles. 

"I’ve always been your fan, Joel. I’ll always believe in you.”

He nods, a small smile lighting his face. “I know, and that’s what got me through. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you smile through tears. 

The waiter approaches with dessert, you silently thank the interruption so you’re not left sobbing in the middle of this beautiful restaurant over how much you love your boyfriend. 

A familiar slice of pie is placed in front of you and Joel.

“Uppercrust?” you excitedly ask, your eyes widening at the large, glazed pecans laying atop the golden crust. 

Joel gives a shy, satisfied nod, his lips curving into that familiar, gentle smile. "Thought we’d end the night with our favorite. Had Sarah overnight it to the restaurant."

“Jooooel,” you breathe out, overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness. You stare at the pie, stunned by how deeply he cares for you.

“All for you baby,” he says softly as he lifts his fork and cheers with a playful smile. “Cheers to Austin and that hotel bar.”

You laugh, grabbing your own fork and tapping it against his. “Cheers,” you whisper, trying to steady your voice. 

“Oh my god,” you moan around the fork at the first taste of sweet pie. “I can’t believe you got this. You’re too good to me.”

He barks a laugh. “Baby, this is nothing, I owe you so much.” 

The pie is sweet, but your boyfriend is sweeter. 

The sweet wine served with the pie warms your body, Joel’s smile from across the table warms you even more. You sneakily slip your foot out of its sandal, and run it up his leg, making your way up to his crotch. He jumps in surprise, his eyes leer at you as he takes a sip of wine. Your foot finds its target, against the soft fabric of his pants, thankful for the white tablecloth that hangs from the table. He places a hand on your foot, pushing it closer to his crotch. You giggle as your toes wiggle back and forth, teasing him. 

“So, what’s next?” you ask, with a mischievous grin.

"Well, after we finish dinner, I'll pay the bill, grab some leftover pie for later...and then take you home and fuck you," he responds confidently.

A small hmph escapes your lips at the promise. “Is that so?”

“Oh, it absolutely is,” he replies, a sly grin spreading across his face. He leans in close, his voice lowering to a secretive whisper. “Just think about it��my place, those fancy sheets of mine you love so much…”

His hand wraps around your foot, pressing it harder against him. 

“Now you’re just making me impatient,” you tease. 

—-

The plates are cleared, the leftover pie is boxed up, Joel settles the bill and rises from his seat, extending his hand to help you up. 

Your fingers lace together as you step out into the warm summer night. Joel leads you to his car, unlocking it and opening the door for you. You lean over and seal your mouth over his, relishing in being able to kiss him out in the open. You pull away and give him a smirk before getting in and sliding across the passenger seat, your heart racing with anticipation for the next stop—Joel’s apartment. 

Your time together has been precious and few. Your career keeps you north in New York, Joel’s training and rehabilitation game have kept him busy and all over the states. But now, you finally have three nights together—the most time you've had since his injury a month ago. 

He glances over at you and winks before he adjusts the rearview mirror. You miss his truck back in Austin, the front bench seat allowing you to slide over and cuddle him close. You curse the existence of the center console. 

“Buckle up, baby,” he says with a grin. Your heart races at the double entendre. 

—-

Taking the elevator up to Joel's penthouse brings back memories of that first night together, when you couldn't believe how handsome he looked in that golden elevator at the hotel, not believing you were about to sleep with Joel Miller. Now, his body presses against yours as you lean on him, his head nestled in the crook of your neck as he leaves sweet kisses down your skin to the matching pendant of his number you wear, leaving a kiss against it before his eyes meet yours. 

“I can’t tell you how much I love seeing this on you, baby,” he says before licking his way up to your mouth, sealing his over yours. He grabs your ass, lifting you into his hold, your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, your arms wrap around his wide shoulders. 

The elevator doors open and he carries you into his penthouse, crowding you against the entryway wall. His mouth moves against yours with fervor, deepening the kiss as your fingers tangle in his hair. You gasp against his mouth, the cool wall chilling your overheated skin. 

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs between kisses, his breath warm and sweet against your lips. “I’ve missed this—missed you.”

He turns and carries you to the living room. The ambient city lights shining in from the floor-to-ceiling windows light Joel’s way. He gently sets you down on the couch and slides his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you closer for another kiss.

“Let me show you how much I’ve missed you, baby,” he whispers against your lips, pausing to look into your eyes.

You nod, breathless and eyes wide. “Please,” you whisper. 

He grins, standing back slightly, taking in the sight of you sprawled on his couch, dress askew. “You look so damn good.” 

His hands rest on the hem of your dress and, with a cocky grin, he slowly lifts it up, exposing the soft skin of your thighs. 

“God, this is all I’ve been thinking about. Drove to the ballpark thinking about you, stepped up to the plate thinking about you, and, baby,when I saw you in the stands… all I could think about was you naked in my arms.” 

“Joel…” you struggle to find the words, already lust-drunk on his words. 

“I need to taste you.” 

He drops down to his knees in front of you, his large fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your underwear and sliding them off.

You bite your lip as he grips your thighs and spreads them apart.

He breathes out a deep sigh at the sight of you. A low whistle leaves his lips. “There she is, she’s so fuckin’ pretty.”

He leans closer and places soft kisses along your inner thighs, teasingly slow, making your heart race even faster.

“Joel…” you plead.

He spreads you wider, warm breath teasing against your core. He licks a long, slow line from bottom to top, humming appreciatively at the first taste of you. 

Your back arches, a gasp escaping your lips. "Oh my God," you breathe.

His rough palms grip your thighs, thick fingers digging into the flesh as he holds you steady. His hot breath tickles your skin as he licks you. "God, you taste so good," he murmurs against you, his voice vibrating against your cunt. “Missed this taste.” 

His tongue explores you as your fingers tangle in his hair, gripping the soft waves of his dark strands.

Two thick fingers slide inside you, stretching you perfectly. Plush lips close around your clit, sucking and lapping at your sensitive nub.

It's been almost a month since he last touched you like this, and now with his skilled mouth and fingers all over you, your body is ready to let go.

“Joel,” you moan. “C-close.”

He enthusiastically hums against you, deep brown eyes staring into yours from under furrowed brows. His fingers pumping in and out of you as his tongue flicks rapidly over your clit. Your pussy pulses against his thick fingers, squeezing them as you bloom under the pleasure of finally feeling his touch. Goosebumps rise all over your skin, cheeks heating, legs trembling, and your eyes tightly shut… and when he curls his fingers upwards inside you, your orgasm crashes into you, your pussy soaking his hand and your voice screaming his name. He doesn't stop, continuing to lick and tease you through your orgasm until it's all too much and you're pulling at his hair.

He pulls back with a satisfied smile and kisses your inner thigh before standing and placing a kiss on your lips. You taste yourself as he licks into your mouth. His plush lips sucking against yours. 

Before you can catch your breath, Joel scoops you up in his strong arms, throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you into his bedroom. You giggle as he smacks your ass and growls. 

He sets you on the edge of his bed, the crisp white sheets cool against your overheated skin. He steps back, his eyes roaming over your body. 

“Stay right there,” he says as he moves to the closet, rummaging around for a moment before returning with a black camera and tripod in hand. 

Your breath catches at the sight as he sets them up, carefully adjusting the angle. 

The tiny red recording light blinks on and the little screen lights up. There you are, all disheveled—dress hiked up, your lips full and swollen from Joel’s mouth. 

His eyes meet yours. “Is this okay?” he asks softly.

You nod, excitement running through your body. “Yes,” you breathe. 

He grins as he removes his shirt, tossing it to the side before he steps out of his pants. He stays behind the camera, standing in the shadows like a director. “Go ahead baby, take it all off.”

You stand slowly, your heart racing at Joel and the camera’s attention. Dark brown eyes watch you intently from behind the camera, his eyes never leaving your every movement. You reach back and unzip your dress, pulling it down, as you slowly slip the straps off, letting the dress fall to the floor, the red gingham fabric pooling at your feet. 

"God, you're gorgeous,” he whispers.

You reach behind to unclasp your bra, staring at Joel as you let it fall away. Your breasts are exposed to his eyes and the camera, your nipples hardening in the cool air. You’re completely bare now except for the necklace with his number. 

"Touch yourself for me, baby," he instructs softly.

You smile, running your hands slowly up your sides, cupping your breasts. Your fingers glide over your nipples, teasing them to stiff peaks before you back up against the bed and lay across it, spreading your legs wide for the camera and Joel. Your hand snakes down your body, across your stomach, down to the apex of your thighs. 

You lock eyes with Joel as you slowly circle your clit, your breath hitching. His gaze is dark from behind the camera, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You can see the outline of his cock straining against his boxer briefs as he watches you pleasure yourself. Your fingers dip lower, sliding into your wet heat.

"That's it, baby," he groans. "Show me how you like to be touched."

Your other hand kneads your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple.

Joel steps out from behind the camera, moving to the edge of the bed. He strips off his boxers, his thick cock springing free. He strokes himself slowly as he watches you.

"You're so fucking sexy," he growls.

You whimper at his words, your fingers moving faster. "Please, baby,” you whine, “I need you."

He grabs your foot and turns you on the cool, slick sheets. Glancing over at the camera’s small display screen to check the angle of your body.  

He climbs on the bed and you instantly welcome the warmth of his presence and his broad body. He positions himself between your legs, gripping his cock and running the head through your folds, coating himself in your wetness. Your breath catches as he slowly pushes inside, a smile lighting your face at finally feeling him inside you.

"Fuck," he groans, his eyes fluttering closed as he bottoms out. "You feel so good, baby. So tight and wet for me."

You moan as he starts to move, his hips rolling against yours in a steady rhythm. Your hands glide over the expanse of his shoulders and down his muscular back, relishing in feeling the flex of his strong muscles with each thrust.

He leans down, capturing your lips. His tongue tangles with yours as he picks up the pace, fucking you harder. 

"Look at the camera, baby," Joel murmurs against your neck. "Let's show it how good I make you feel."

You tilt your head, looking directly at the camera lens with heavy-lidded eyes. The knowledge that you are being recorded, that Joel will watch this later, that the two of you will get off while watching yourselves… it’s a new thrill for you. You moan louder, arching your back higher as Joel fucks you. 

"Touch yourself for me," he commands.

Your hand snakes between your bodies, fingers finding your clit. 

"Oh god, baby," you moan, your fingers working furiously at your clit as he pounds into you. "I'm so close."

Joel's rhythm falters slightly as he watches you touch yourself, sweat glistening on his brow. "That's it. Cum for me. Let me feel you."

Your voice echoes through the room as you cry out Joel’s name, your body trembling as your walls clench tightly around him. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, his hips snapping against yours. “So fucking good, you cum so fucking good for me. So fucking tight.”

He pulls your body towards him, sitting up on the bed, his cock still buried deep inside of you. You take control and ride him, your legs wrapping around his waist as you grind down on him. His hands grip your hips firmly, guiding you.

“That’s it baby. Take what you need from me,” he growls.

Your hands tangle in the short waves of his hair, pulling him in for a kiss. Your tongues exploring each other’s mouths, bodies glistening with sweat.

He breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against yours, his nose bumping against yours. “I love you. God damn baby, I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you moan as he thrusts up into you.  

He captures your lips again. “I’m close,” he groans against your mouth. “Cum with me baby. Give me one more.”

His hand snakes down between your bodies, his thumb finds your clit, rubbing firm circles against it as you bounce on his cock. 

You cry out his name as you orgasm, Joel’s fingers and cock working in tandem to push you over the ledge. You turn your head to the camera, staring into it as you chant Joel’s name while your walls clench around his cock. 

“Oh fuck baby,” Joel groans, his hips stuttering. “I’m gonna cum for you.”

In one swift motion, he flips you onto your back, your legs instinctively wrap around his waist as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his hot breath fanning across your skin as he chases his own release. Your hands run down his back, feeling the flex of his muscles with each thrust.

"Cum for me, Joel, I want to feel you cum inside me."

With a final and deep thrust, Joel stills above you. He groans your name as he empties himself inside you, his cock pulsing with each spurt. He fills you with his release, still gently fucking you with soft thrusts, pushing his seed deeper inside you. 

He leans over and grabs the camera, his cock still plunged deep inside you. With a sly smile, he films your face, capturing the bliss across it.

“Look at you,” he admires, “smiling all sweetly, all drunk on my cock and cum, aren’t you baby?”

You moan a response and nod eagerly. 

He chuckles as he pulls out, shuffling his body down to settle in between your legs. Joel positions the camera between your thighs, spreading them apart and running a finger through your cunt, swollen and slick with his spend pulsating out of you.

“Look at you, leakin’ everywhere,” he groans, collecting himself across his fingers and sticking it inside you. “Can’t have that, now can we?” 

His eyes stay focused on the little screen, watching his fingers pump in and out of your overworked cunt. 

“Fuckin’ filthy baby,” he angles his fingers, your slick squelches loudly across the room. 

Writhing and whining under his touch, your skin is overheated, your pussy radiating heat across your body. 

He pulls his soaked finger out, wiping it across your folds. “Show me how you drip baby, let me see.” 

A gush of his cum leaks out of you, the warm liquid runs down your ass, pooling on the bed. 

“Fucccccccccck,” he growls. “Can’t stop looking at this.” 

He zooms out, capturing your whole body in the frame. 

“Tell me whose pussy this is,” he instructs.

“Yours,” you breathlessly respond.

“That’s it baby,” he growls, before his eyes lift from the camera and into yours. “I love you,” he softly says, his eyes rounding in reverence. 

“I love you too.”

He grins, standing up from the bed and switching off the camera before placing it down on the bedside table.

“That was incredible,” you sigh. “I can’t believe we just did that.” 

A smile spreads across his face as he leans down to give you a tender kiss on the lips. "We'll have to watch it later," he says before heading to the bathroom. He returns with a damp towel and gently wipes between your legs, before planting a kiss on your forehead and turning to leave the room.

“Where are you going?” you slur, too blissed out of your mind. 

“To get pie. I’m starving.”

⚾️⚾️⚾️

Series Masterlist

[illaisland]

I want to point out that Scully delivered a fucking baby in this episode.

In the middle of a hurricane. With no power. With a crazy man waving a gun around.

In the middle of trying to investigate a case. And she had to keep Mulder from getting into danger and killing himself. And also had to figure out this parasite thing that was infecting/eating/killing everyone.

In the middle of fuck ass shitty ass Florida (AGAIN!) Oh and she was wet! And sleepy! And grumpy! And probably hadn't eaten a real meal! And Mulder kept blabbing on about sea monsters worming their way thru the pipes!

She was so deliciously sassy in this episode and I don't blame her AT ALL.

She doesn't get paid enough. The FBI doesn't deserve her.

GIVE SCULLY HER FUCKING COINS!

Agua Mala

Don't dismiss him so easily. He discovered the X-Files 40 years ago. He's seen things that I've only read about. Because sea monsters can only be read about, Mulder, because they don't exist.

[jbaileyfansite]

USA Today Interview (2024)

For Jonathan Bailey, one of the biggest perks of starring in a massive franchise is getting your very own Lego figure.

The British actor, who plays the swoony prince Fiyero in “Wicked,” is featured in a 945-piece plastic Emerald City set. Although he has yet to procure the toy metropolis for himself, “Christmas is coming and I hope I’ve been a good boy this year,” Bailey says with a grin.

The impish heartthrob has been using Legos to unwind while on a weekslong promotional tour for the blockbuster movie musical, which tells the origin story of the witches of Oz. “Just last night, I managed to (put together) the Atlantic Ocean in this giant Lego globe that I’m currently building,” he delightedly explains.

The fantasy film caps off a monumental year for Bailey, 36, who earned an Emmy nomination for his devastating work in Showtime miniseries “Fellow Travelers,” and spent the summer in Thailand shooting “Jurassic World: Rebirth” (in theaters July 2, 2025) alongside Scarlett Johansson.

“It’s extraordinary the types of roles I’ve been able to play these last two years,” says Bailey, who broke through to U.S. audiences on Netflix phenom “Bridgerton” in 2020. “I’m pinching myself. If I could have gone back and told my younger self that this would be happening, I’d probably do a flip.”

Jonathan Bailey brings 'boyish charm' to 'Wicked' prince Fiyero

Bailey is no stranger to musical theater: At just 8 years old, he played the pint-sized revolutionary Gavroche in “Les Misérables” on London’s West End. And in 2019, he won an Olivier Award for a gender-swapped revival of Stephen Sondheim’s “Company,” singing the mile-a-minute “Getting Married Today.”

But it was a viral audition tape for the musical “The Last Five Years” that caught the attention of “Wicked” director Jon M. Chu. “It felt like the thing I’ve always loved about musicals, where the song is just an extension of the dialogue. It felt like acting,” Chu recalls. “He just has that X factor. There’s such a boyish charm to him that you’re like, ‘That is Fiyero.’”

Like many, Bailey became obsessed with “Wicked” thanks to its Broadway cast album and 2004 Tony Awards performance with Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenoweth. “The lyrics are so fascinating and witty,” Bailey says. “I remember laughing specifically at Glinda singing how this hat is ‘really, uh, sharp, don’t you think?’ I screamed!”

When the contumacious Fiyero arrives at Shiz University from Winkie Country, he instantly enchants the besotted Glinda (Ariana Grande), but slowly finds himself drawn to the green-skinned Elphaba (Cynthia Erivo). He also freely flirts with both his male and female classmates.

“Fiyero is confident and curious and kind enough to invite anyone to Winkie Country,” Bailey says cheekily. But as a gay actor, he’s grateful for the “years and years of progress” that have allowed him to be the leading man in a big-budget movie like “Wicked.”  

“There's been many Fiyeros before me, and many members of the LGBT community who have fought for times where someone like me could play these parts,” Bailey says. "This story resonates for so many people because it’s about identity and celebrates our similarities. In playing Fiyero, you realize what an ally he is to someone who’s outside of society. People are incredibly unkind to Elphaba, and he uses his charm and privilege” to help her feel accepted. “It’s really lovely.”

The 'Bridgerton' dreamboat heads to 'Jurassic World' next

“There's been many Fiyeros before me, and many members of the LGBT community who have fought for times where someone like me could play these parts,” Bailey says. "This story resonates for so many people because it’s about identity and celebrates our similarities. In playing Fiyero, you realize what an ally he is to someone who’s outside of society. People are incredibly unkind to Elphaba, and he uses his charm and privilege” to help her feel accepted. “It’s really lovely.”

The 'Bridgerton' dreamboat heads to 'Jurassic World' next

Bailey delivers one of the movie’s standout numbers in “Dancing Through Life,” in which Fiyero persuades his schoolmates to join him for a night on the town at the trendy Ozdust Ballroom. The song begins in the Shiz library, where Fiyero swings between ladders, slides across desks, and flips through novels using only his feet. The actor spent seven weeks rehearsing the choreography, much of which takes place on rotating bookshelves.

“It turns out in Fiyero’s boots, it’s not so easy to open books and read ‘War and Peace’ with your toes,” Bailey jokes. “I also started training vocally over Zoom while I was filming ‘Fellow Travelers.’ I would do these scenes with Matt Bomer where I’d be smoking and screaming, and then I’d have to come back and sing somehow.”

Ultimately, making "Wicked" helped Bailey feel more at ease taking on the beloved "Jurassic Park" series, in which he plays a bespectacled paleontologist named Dr. Henry Loomis.

“Dancing and closing books with your toes does not save you from raptors,” Bailey quips. “ ’Wicked’ is its own beautiful beast, but it leans so much on the original imagery of ‘The Wizard of Oz.’ It taught me to blur out the reality of what it means to step into an incredibly iconic story, and just focus on working hard and having a lot of fun."

Bailey teases that he has another musical project “on the horizon.” In the meantime, Fiyero will have a more substantial role in "Wicked: Part Two" (in theaters Nov. 21, 2025), which shot back-to-back with the first movie. He still regrets not taking home the character's black leather boots, created by "genius" costume designer Paul Tazewell.

“I did manage to steal some postcards from the Emerald City,” Bailey says. “Some of those accidentally flew off in the middle of a take and landed in my bag. Other than that, I hope Paul will send me Fiyero’s tight pants one day."

Source

[boobabietch]

Chapter I: "From College Phenom to WNBA Superstar: The Victoria O’Hara Story" | Diana Taurasi x OC

Warnings: Kinda narcissistic, kinda obsessed Victoria (excuse my girl she just wants to do good)

A/N: first chapter baby let’s fucking goooo, I’m so so excited about this series and I cannot wait for you guys to read it. As always English is not my first language so if you see any mistakes (I wrote this super high so there’s probably some) please let me know so I can change them asap, comments are highly appreciated, please let me know what you think! My ask box is always open too. Love Sof :))

Making headlines masterlist

There’s a funny thing about being a woman in sports, and it’s that being good is not enough.

When I was first drafted to the W, my back was in agonizing pain, breaking under the weight of everyone’s expectations. Having an excellent college career made the country ache with the need to see me play with the big dogs, some rooting for my success, but most of them patiently waiting for my imminent downfall. I struggled; climbing up that fucking hill was hard. But everything became easier once my mind was blinded with rage, and that anger had a name: Diana motherfucking Taurasi.

Growing up she was everything I aspired to be. She made it all look so easy, so effortless, and I wanted that. And the thing is, I’m not an aggressive person, not even a bad one. I bake for my teammates every Friday, I have friends all over the league, little girls want my shoes after the games and their grown fathers want my ass, teenage girls even write about me on Tumblr, for fuck's sake! I am perfectly fine!

Until that fucking game.

May 19, 2017

My rookie season. We faced Phoenix for the first time. The air was thick with anticipation, and I couldn’t shake the feeling in my gut that nobody on that arena came to see me.

There she was.

Diana was there, larger than life, owning the court like she owned the entire damn league. And the truth was, she did.

I knew this moment was coming, but nothing could’ve prepared me for actually standing across from her. She locked eyes with me during warm-ups, her face impassive, like I wasn’t even worth her time. I looked around and every person was the same, nobody really came to see me, not even my team. That’s when I realized that being good at the game it’s not enough, you have to play another type of game if you want people to see you, and I was determined to make them beg for more of me.

That was all it took. I felt something rise inside of me, a mix of insecurity and pure terror, and from that moment, the only thing I wanted more than winning was beating her. Proving her wrong.

And that’s where all the shit unraveled.

It wasn’t just the basketball. It was personal. Every shot I took, every time I drove the lane, I wasn’t just thinking about the score, I was thinking about her. The way she moved. How her voice echoed through the arena when she barked orders to her team. I hated how much I was drawn to it, to her.

My teammates tried to talk me down, “Vico, chill you’re obsessing,” Sydney said. But they didn’t get it. Diana Taurasi was my benchmark, my North Star. My fire, I wanted what she had and in order to get it she was the one to beat. Every game after that I took it as duel, a fight for dominance. I was determined to make her see me, to make her acknowledge that I wasn’t just some rookie passing through, because if she knew that, then everybody would know that I was Victoria fucking O’Hara, and I was coming for the crown, her crown.

And I was doing a hell of a job:

"Rising Star: Victoria O'Hara Leads All Rookies in Scoring and Rebounds"

"WNBA newest princess? O’Hara’s Rookie Season Proves She’s a Force to Be Reckoned With"

"Victoria O’Hara Makes Waves: Record-Breaking Rookie Season Captivates Fans and Analysts"

But it never seemed to be enough, until…

July 7, 2017

It was after another grueling game. We lost by three points, but I played the game of my life. I was exhausted, mentally and physically, slumped on the bench, trying to catch my breath. And someone towered over me.

Someone I was very aware of.

“Not bad, O’Hara. Keep it up, and you might actually be a challenge someday.”

My stomach twisted.

I stared at her for a weirdly amount of time, unsure how to respond. Hell, was she mocking me? Or was this some twisted form of respect?

Before I could think too much, I snapped back:

“Someday? I’m already a problem for you.”

Fuck, that sounded way harsher than I intended.

I saw her look at her shoes, clicking her tongue before staring at me again, a smirk plastered in her face begging to be slapped it out “Of course you are”

And that’s it. She left.

July 30, 2017:

We were playing again, and the tension was unbearable. Everyone could feel it. Diana was all over the place, controlling the game like she always did, like she owned it. But this time? I wasn’t letting her have it. I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of thinking she still ran the show. I needed this moment. I needed to prove myself. To her. To everyone.

Then, in the third quarter, it happened.

I saw her coming. Her eyes were locked on me like a damn predator, and I wasn’t backing down. I made a drive, quick and sharp, cutting to the basket with everything I had. I was going to score, but she had other plans. She slammed into me, body on body, knocking me off my path like I was nothing. I hit the floor hard, my elbows burning from the impact. The whistle blew, and I stayed down for a second, rage boiling under my skin.

"Get up," she muttered, standing over me like she owned the place. "You’re gonna need more than that to take me down, rook."

The audacity. I pushed myself up, heart pounding in my chest, glaring straight at her. I was chest to chest with the legend, staring into her eyes, and for the first time, I wasn’t intimidated. I was pissed. “You think you’re untouchable? Just fucking wait.”

She smirked, like she’d heard it all before. Like she didn’t even have to try. "I don’t think, O’Hara. I know," she spat back, her voice dripping with arrogance.

That was it. That was the moment I snapped. "Oh, you’re just a fucking bitch, aren’t you?" The words flew out before I could stop them, and I shoved her, hard.

The arena erupted in chaos.

Before I knew it, she was lunging at me, ready to push me back. But our teammates were faster, grabbing us before we could even make contact. I could feel my heart pounding in my ears, my fists clenched, ready to throw. But the second I tried to break free, I was held back by a wall of arms pulling me away from her.

It took four players to hold me back. Four.

Diana wasn’t any better off. Her teammates were holding her down too, but I could see it in her eyes. She wanted this fight as much as I did. There was fire there, the same fire I felt burning inside me. She wasn’t just here to win; she was here to prove a point. But so was I.

We both struggled against the hands holding us back, trying to break free, trying to get at each other. My muscles ached with the effort of pushing forward, but no matter how hard I fought, it wasn’t happening. I could almost feel the impact of my fist hitting her. The unfinished fight burned inside me, an itch that couldn’t be scratched.

I didn’t give a shit about the cameras or the refs. I didn’t care about the technical they were about to call. All I cared about was making her feel this rage, this fire that she had sparked inside me. I wanted her to know that she wasn’t untouchable. That I wasn’t just another rookie.

Finally, the refs managed to pull us apart, forcing us to opposite sides of the court. My chest heaved with adrenaline, but I wasn’t done. I looked back at her, catching her eyes one more time. That damn smirk still on her face. But I knew she saw me now. I knew she felt it too.

The fight wasn’t over.

That was the moment I realized. Diana Taurasi wasn’t just another player to beat. She was the one. The one I had to take down. And maybe, just maybe, she’d finally met someone who could.

Fucking Diana.

"Rivalry Ignites: O’Hara and Taurasi Get into Fiery Altercation During Friday Game"

San Antonio Stars Victoria O’Hara Adidas Grey and Black Edition Player Jersey | SOLD OUT

Requests are Open!

Massterlist

[the-californicationist]

Reposting this in honor of "i wonder how many days i'll bleed" by thethingsthatimake being updated <3 <3 <3 every time i read her work, i get inspired

he dreams of blueberries

This is a nasty little drabble tribute to "i wonder how many days i'll bleed" by thethingsthatimake because it is the most amazing Price fic I've ever freaking read.

Swing by and check out my unhinged WIP, "Gunslinger" if you're looking for yet another Price fic to add to your reading list.

MDNI, 18+, etc. Please do not reproduce or translate this work.

You awoke to a strange sensation. You were deeply aroused, wet between your legs, slipping against something. Price was moving his body on yours, kissing down your back, and one of his thick fingers played inside of you ever so gently, dipping in and out of your stickiness like the soft nose of a horse dips into a lake to drink from it, just deep enough to break the surface tension. You moaned, confused, looking over your shoulder to face him, your morning voice low and uneven,

“John?”

“Can I come back inside?”

His morning voice, on the other hand, was threatening. The usual gravel and depth he spoke with was richer, lower, and impossibly dark. His tone alone made your body flush with heat. You felt his cock press against your ass cheek then, hard and drooling, starving for you. Coming to his rescue, you repositioned your hips so that he could slip himself in. The passionate sigh of relief you received from his open mouth was enough to send sparks directly to your core, lighting a fire he’d been busy building while you were fast asleep. 

He talked to you the entire time he moved inside of you. Unfiltered, unbridled honesty,

 “Been dreamin about ya, love.” 

The slow, even thrusts that he was making with his fat cock sounded like heavy footsteps splashing through puddles, slapping and rippling. The slick noises compounded your pleasure. 

“Dreamt about chasing you, in the woods, running after you so fast, catchin’ up quick. I could see - ah,” he thrust harder, biting your shoulder gently before releasing you from his jaws to continue his monologue, “Could see your hair flash behind the trees. Could see you, naked, barefooted, sprinting, those strong legs...”

Price was fucking himself into you with a strength you’d not yet had the opportunity to experience. As the little spoon in this position, you could feel all of the corded muscle he was using to crush himself into you, tensing and stretching, pulling and pushing, up and down in an undulating, steady pattern. You were going to come - he was going to make you come - and you didn’t even have time to warn him about it. 

He felt your orgasm hit him in waves, but he didn’t break his pacing. Price threw his body into your pleasure, keeping up with his rhythm as you squeezed the life out of his shaft. He turned his head into your hair, burying his face in its warmth, eyes wrenching shut, concentrating fully on regaining control before continuing his confessionals, speaking so very slowly,

“Caught you. Grabbed you 'round the waist, pushed you down in the grass. There were rotten blueberries all over, staining us purple. Your smile, ah fuck, so sweet. So damned sweet to me. And I filled you up in the bloody clearing, so full of my come. Messy…oh, my God,” he pushed your leg up toward your chest and discovered a deeper angle, still holding onto his desire tightly, like a rope around a bucking bull. 

“Smeared your pretty face with my come, with the blueberries in the field. With grass. Leaves. In your hair. Mud. Dirt. Covered. Purple,” he became distracted, his sentences turning into phrases, turning into words, turning into moans. 

“You wanna make a mess in me, daddy?” You gasped, trying to give him what he needed from you, joining him in celebrating his dream, imagining the glory of being covered in his delicious filth. 

He whined, grunting through clenched teeth, 

“Mm, yes, love, I do. I do.”

[lucidpillows]

The Idea of You...

but pop phenom Henry x aspiring singer-songwriter Alex (or Hayes x Marco if you will)

[sukisheadlights]

MAKE ME STAY!

landonorris x famous!oc

summary: where she sends the Internet into a slow spiral after releasing a song out of the blue (except it’s not out of the blue, it’s papaya)

part 1: make me stay, series masterlist

faceclaim: dua lipa 🫶

rory’s voice mail 🎧: PART 1! hope you guys like this, it’s obviously going to be a slow burn but I’m really excited to write it for y’all <3 ALSO the first two chapters are gonna be a little slow to set up the story and a strong base for it 😚 LOVE YOU SAY IT BACK

@TMZ • 2 hours ago

Exclusive: F1 phenom Lando Norris spotted leaving Las Vegas after-party with a mysterious redhead!

Rumors are swirling that F1 racing superstar Lando Norris may have found a new love interest in Las Vegas!

The 22-year-old McLaren driver was spotted leaving the after-party of the FIA Formula 1 Las Vegas Grand Prix with a gorgeous gal on his arm.

Our source spotted Lando and the mystery woman leaving together and said the pair appeared to be "flirty", as Lando "wrapped his arm around her" and they "walked off into the night."

@THEHOLLYWOODFIX • 2 hours ago

It looks like F1 driver Lando Norris is getting back into his dating game!

After breaking up with his long-term girlfriend last year, our favorite driver was seen leaving the Formula 1 Las Vegas after party with a mysterious red-haired woman dressed in a form-fitting black leather dress.

We're not sure if this is just a one night stand, or if Lando has his sights set on someone new. Either way, we wouldn't blame him - the Formula 1 Las Vegas parties are known for being a hot spot for celebrities and models alike!

liked by paisleysterling, zendaya, and 8,75,784,894 others

lizcolton miss me?

paisleysterling no girl gtfo of my house 🙄

lizcolton stfu you love me

paisleysterling god I hate you

lizownsme UH YES?!!?! THE RED HAIRR???? ITS GIVING NEW ERA 🫣

user654 the world is NOT READY for whatever lizzy is cooking rn

user849 literally buy me

taylorswift stunning as always!! ❤️

tittieswhere BOTH MY MOTHERS ARE HERE OMFGGG TAYLOR GET HER TO OPEN FOR YOU

lewishamilton pic creds to me, btw.

lizcolton he took the pictures, or whatever 🙄

user4 EXCUSE ME WTAF ARE YOU DOING HERE

user9 @user4 it’s giving “excuse me what the actual fuck are you doing in my house—”

isoldmysoultof1 WHAT WHAT WHAAAT

isoldmysoultof1 @f1wags NEW F1 WAG POSSIBLY?!!?!!

@TMZ • 45 mins ago

Pop Sensation Liz Colton is Back!

Liz, who's long been hailed as a retro-pop phenomenon and one of the biggest social media stars, has just announced her return to the spotlight after a two-year break! Liz had been absent from public life following her rough breakup with actor Jacob Elordi.

Now, the queen of pop has set the Internet ablaze with a photo of herself sporting a sleek new red do and rocking an all-leather look, accompanied by the caption 'miss me?' Fans are abuzz!

In addition, Colton has been recently spotted interacting comfortably with Formula One superstar Lewis Hamilton in her social media comment sections! Hamilton, who is a known celebrity himself, has even asked Colton to give more picture credits, making fans hope that she's ready to expand her network and step into the world of Formula 1.

Could this mean the start of a whole new era for Liz?

liked by paiselysterling, sabrinacarpenter, and 9,34,748,830 others

lizcolton the face of a person keeping secrets 🤐

comments disabled.

@TMZ • 1 min ago

BREAKING NEWS!

It looks like Jacob Elordi, the "Euphoria" heartthrob who recently broke up with longtime girlfriend Liz Colton, was caught in a compromising position.

Just months after Liz and Jacob decided to split, details have emerged that the Australian actor cheated on his girlfriend multiple times. While neither Liz nor Jacob have commented publicly on the situation, fans have been quick to blast the actor for his apparent indiscretions.

With a successful career and multiple projects in the works, it looks like Jacob's reputation is about to take a dip.

liked by alexademie, sydneysweeney, and 8,59,499,484 others

lizcolton kisses to my exes, out 8pm tonight 💋

paisleysterling ATE

paisleysterling first picture’s for someone special?? I KNOW YOU BITCH

liked by lizcolton

lizcoltonsslave MOTHER ISNT SINGLE ANYMORE!?

lizcolton @lizcoltonsslave single as HELL baby!! Y’all haven’t lost me yet dw 😚

lizcoltonsslave @lizcolton bye I’m about to go die in a hole now

lewishamilton roscoe is ready to stream

lizcolton @lewishamilton thanks ig 🤨

wagintraining @lewishamilton LEWIS LIZ OMG LIZ ARE YOU FRIENDS WITH THE DRIVERS!?

lizcolton @wagintraining no comments

coltonhq headphones are ready!! 🎧🤍

lizcolton @coltonhq love u admin 😭💋

lizismother18 oh this is gonna EAT

[blackbird-brewster]

Mom!Em Fic Recs

@bau-babygirl requested: Fics featuring Emily as a mom [X]

JJ/Emily + Kids

[Find all of these and more fluff in my Domestic Jemily collection on AO3]

Mother's Day by w00t4ewan (me) Rated: G || WC: 715 Summary: Henry helps Emily surprise JJ on Mother's Day

Dreams Do Come True by w00t4ewan Rated: G || WC: 2000 Summary: Emily and JJ take Henry to Disneyworld on their first family vacation.

Breakfast by w00t4ewan Rated: G || WC: 840 Summary: Emily tries to let JJ sleep in and winds up with her hands full of a certain toddler.

Love is an Open Door by w00t4ewan Rated: G || WC: 1010 Summary: Emily and Henry work together to plan an unforgettable evening for JJ.

Jemily Ficlet Archives by w00t4ewan Rated: M || WC: 31,000+ Summary: An unrelated collection of Jemily ficlets and headcanons which were originally posted on my tumblr and up until now hadn't been shared on AO3.

Sand by @otahkoapisiakii (Phoenix_Falls) Rated: G || WC: 2630 Summary: JJ and Emily incorporate Henry in their wedding ceremony

Steps by Phoenix_Falls Rated: G || WC: 4670 Summary: Modified prompt from tumblr: "you asked me to the store with you and your child, and now my distant relative we met thinks im married with a baby"

Darwin by Phoenix_Falls Rated: G || WC: 831 Summary: Henry has an odd nickname. Likely takes place in the same verse as Steps, but 11 years later Mittens and Hats by @velutluna Rated: G || WC: 1944 Summary: JJ and Emily take their sons for a walk in a winter wonderland.

Perfect by velutuna Rated: G || WC: 660 Summary: A perfect evening at the home of the Prentiss-Jareau family.

Happy Birthday! by @ellegreenawayslover Rated: G || WC: 2028 Summary: Emily’s feelings during her birthday, her feelings years ago, and how she finally is truly happy with her life and how it turned out.

Morning Cartoons and Middle Names by @vhsrights Rated: G || WC: 2634 Summary: A shift in the numbers on his digital clock indicated that the time had arrived. 7:15 am. No sound of an alarm echoed through the upper floor of the Prentiss-Jareau house. There was pin-drop silence, and then the quiet chaos began.

Bonus: My Master List of MomEm Headcanons & Fanworks

Other Fics: Emily + Kids

A Year in the Life by @gaelic-symphony (thelarkascending) Tara/Emily || Rated: T || WC: 8455 Summary: Twelve vignettes from the married life of Tara Lewis and Emily Prentiss, written for the Year of the OTP writing challenge.

handprints on my soul by @prrentiss (unitchiefprentiss) Tara/Emily || Rated: T || WC: 32,000+ Summary: tara and emily after the events of just a dream. Maternal Instinct by thelarkascending Alex/Emily || Rated: G || WC: 1207 Summary: Motherhood brings with it complicated feelings for new moms Emily and Alex. Written for the CM fandom gift exchange Halloween Interlude by w00t4ewan Tara/Emily || Rated: G || WC: 1573 Maternal Instinct by thelarkascending Alex/Emily || Rated: G || WC: 1207 Summary: Motherhood brings with it complicated feelings for new moms Emily and Alex. Written for the CM fandom gift exchange

Bluey Mom by @alexblakeisgay (ArwenLalaith) Alex/Emily || Rated: G || WC: 2713 Summary: The adventures of Emily Prentiss as she navigates running the BAU, being a wife and mother, and her relationship with gender.

Oh, My Darling Clementine by ArwenLalaith Alex/Emily || Rated: G || WC: 930 Summary: Emily Prentiss is not above bribing her toddler daughter to get her to call her Mama…

Book Ends by ArwenLalaith Alex/Emily || Rated: G || WC: 18,500 Summary: Emily's life revolves around Lux - her four year old autistic daughter. She hasn't had a relationship since she got pregnant and certainly isn't looking to start one when she meets Alex Blake: phenom children's author.

Alex's life since her husband left and her son passed has revolved around writing and little else. She's been a recluse for years when her agent finally convinces her to make an appearance at her latest book launch. Little does she know, she's about to meet a four year old girl that will change her life....

[bteezxyewriter12]

Annoyed Series

Wooyoung

Pairing- Wooyoung x Named Reader

Word count- 914 Words

Includes- Everything is consensual, angst, misunderstanding, sex from behind, angry sex, dirty talk, Wooyoung is duh, fluff

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@yeosxxx @seokwoosmole @jjongsbebe @wisejudgedragonhairdo @meowmeowminnie @woo-stars @borntowalkaway @usagionthered @san-realblkwife @seonghwasstar @jejeyeppeo @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @prayerofthehaim @realisticnotes @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny @stephy-nicole13 @mknae-jongho @amyz78 @marvelfamily3000 @bykeynote

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Annoyed Series Masterlist

📝Masterlists

📝ATEEZ Masterlist

📝Wooyoung Masterlist

Dragging her into my room at the dorm, I slam the door shut, glaring at her, so fucking annoyed

She looks at me confused as I walk to her

Turning her around, I shove her down face first on my desk, ripping her pants and panties down

I touch her cunt, feeling how wet she is

"Is this for me or him?", I snarl

"You", she whimpers, "You Wooyoung"

"Are you sure?", I snap, "Are you really sure it's for me and not him?"

"Him? Who him?", she asks as I pull my own sweatpants and boxers down

"Yeosang", I snap, shoving my head inside her

She yelps then moans, squeezing my tip hard

"I don't-"

"Be quiet", I growl, grabbing a fist full of her hair and yanking her head up, "You have some fucking nerve"

Her eyes widen, "What did I do?"

I snort, "Like you didn't know you were flirting with him?"

She did it on purpose

I wasn't paying attention to her, engrossed on the game I was playing on my phone

I admit that

She wanted attention and I didn't give it to her right away

But she didn't have to flirt with Yeosang

She didn't have to get up and go sit next to him, talk in that teasing tone, compliment his arm muscles in the tank top he was wearing

She didn't have to ask him to flex and then feel his bicep while flashing that gorgeous flirty smile she always gives me

It's bad enough that I get jealous all the time, she didn't have to provoke it

"You didn't pay attention to me", she pouts, trying to wiggle down my cock

"Stop moving", I demand, her attempts stalling

"Woo", she whines

"Oh now it's Woo", I growl, "Before it was "Oh Yeosang, you're so strong". Before it was you touching him. And now you want my cock in your pussy. What about his? Do you want his?"

She shakes her head, "No Woo, want yours"

"I think you'll take any cock that wants to fuck you. Just like you'll take attention from anyone"

I'm so jealous and so angry

I want her to open her eyes and see me

I want her to love me like I love her

I want her to realize that I'm ready and willing to give her anything she wants, that I can be exactly what she needs in a guy

But she's so fucking oblivious

"No Woo. I don't want anyone's dick but yours. I promise", she whines

"I think you'll say anything to get me to fuck you", I snap, "So I'll give you what you want"

Snapping my hips, I bury in her throbbing soaked cunt in one stroke, splitting her little hole wide open

I start moving fast and hard, her moans getting so loud right away

"Did you forget that I fuck you?", I snap, pounding in to her pussy mercilessly, "Did you forget that your cunt cums on me? That I fill your cunt with my cum?"

"Nnnn...", she trails off after a particularly hard thrust

"I think you did", I growl, "I think you forgot that it's my dick you cry on, my cock you sob and beg for. I think you forgot that no one can fuck you like I can"

I make sure I bottom out with every thrust, making my head hit her spot, her cunt clenching and throbbing rapidly, keeping me in so much bliss

Her pussy is perfect for me, takes me so well, creams me so much

And all she does is scream for more

"I..I didn't forget", she sobs, her hands holding the table's edge so hard her knuckles are white

Her pussy sucks me in with every move, desperately squeezing to keep me inside

It feels phenomenal

"I think you did", I growl, "Think you forget about me when I'm not balls deep inside you"

"No Wooyoung", she whimpers, moving back as I surge forward, meeting my thrust and taking me deeper into her cunt, "I think about you all the time"

I snort as we move together, the pleasure bringing me closer, "Sure"

"I do", she shouts, as I pound in and making her cum all over my cock, "Fuck! I love you Wooyoung!"

The ecstasy of her pulsing pussy mixed with her words send me right into an orgasm

I sheath my cock inside her, shooting my cum deep in her pussy, moaning her name as stars blast in my vision

As I come down from the bliss, I hear her whimpering "I love you" over and over

Pulling out, I turn her around, her beautiful wet brown eyes looking up at me

Her arms slide around my neck and she says clearly, "I love you Wooyoung"

I'm completely shocked

I did not see that coming

"Really?"

She nods, "You're so oblivious Woo. You're always so concerned with being jealous that you don't see that I'm yours. I was always yours"

"But today-"

"Today I did it to piss you off", she admits, "But I want you. I always just wanted you"

"You have me", I answer immediately, so estatic, "I love you so much Jo"

"Yeah?"

I nod, "Yeah. You're mine"

She nods, "Yeah. Kiss me Woo"

I lean down to kiss her but stop before my lips meet hers, "But no more flirting"

She giggles, "Deal. Now kiss me"

I smile, then press my lips to hers in a soft loving kiss

[azzibuckets]

For the Love of the Game - [Pazzi | Part 1/10]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: part 1 of my pazzi fake dating series!! i originally meant for it to be friends to lovers but i realized enemies is easier to write so i changed it up 😶 lmk what u think!

word count: 760

masterlist | part 2

“So the rumors are true.”

Azzi spun the basketball in her hands, finding comfort in the familiar texture of the Wilson Evo NXT. Here she was, at the Werth Championship Center, in front of banners unfurling the glory of all the NCAA champions that have walked here before her - a much different scene than the small high school gym of St. John’s. With all the different colleges she’d visited in the last year, she’d had a rough time adapting to how different everything was, but the one thing that always stayed the same was this ball in her hands. The reason she was doing all this, she reminded herself.

Azzi turned around. It was almost out of a movie, seeing the three girls that stood facing her. On the left, she recognized as Aaliyah Edwards. Her hair was intertwined in her signature yellow and purple braids, and there was a friendly smile on her face. On the right, Nika Muhl. The Croation phenom with long, straight brunette hair tied up in a ponytail, a neutral expression on her face. And in the middle-

Oh boy. In the middle, there was Paige. Good ol’ Paige Bueckers. Her light blonde hair hung loose, framing her face. Her eyebrows were turned down, her lips pressed into a straight line. Talk about unfriendly.

Azzi swallowed. “Hey,” she spoke uncertainly.

Aaliyah stepped forward, and before Azzi knew it, she was being wrapped up in a bear hug by the 6’3” power forward. “Welcome to UConn!” Aaliyah grinned. “I’m Aaliyah, but all my friends call me Lili.”

Azzi awkwardly patted Aaliyah on the back, her gaze falling to the other two after she stepped back.

“I’m Nika.” The brunette offered Azzi her hand instead of swooping in for a hug like Aaliyah did, but she suddenly smiled warmly, and Azzi felt at ease. “Nika Muhl.”

“Nice to meet all of you. I’m Azzi.”

“We know,” Paige responded curtly, a frosty look in her eyes. Nika nudged Paige, probably reminding her to be nice, and Paige heaved a sigh before sticking out a limp hand. “Bueckers. But you know that.”

Aaliyah rolled her eyes. “God, Paige, don’t be so cocky.”

“I’m not!” The blonde quickly defended. “Azzi and I go way back. She knows me.” She smiled at Azzi then, but it was sharp and wolfish, nothing alike Nika’s welcoming beam from earlier. Azzi preferred Paige’s resting bitch face.

Azzi twirled the basketball she was holding on her finger. “Yep,” she responded dryly. “Paige and I played together for a couple of years. USA basketball.”

Nika’s eyes lit up. “That’s so cool! So you already have a friend here. Nice.” She looked between the two of them with a big smile on her face.

“Not really,” Paige scoffed. This time it was Aaliyah who elbowed her, and Paige winced. “Give us a second, will ya?” Aaliyah smiled brightly at Azzi before she aggressively grabbed Paige’s elbow and pulled her a few steps back.

“What are you doing?” Azzi heard Nika hissed. They were being very conspicuous, especially because they were the only ones in the gym and the three sophomores had retreated literally only two steps back. Azzi could hear every single word they were saying without even having to strain her ears. But apparently they thought they were being sneaky, so Azzi could only awkwardly stand there and listen to them. She now regretted asking to stay in the facility when Geno had finished showing her around. All she’s wanted to do was shoot some hoops in her new home, familiarize herself with the gym before practices officially started, and now she was stuck here dealing with the bitchiness of Paige Bueckers, a girl who was constantly grating on her nerves.

“She’s not visiting,” Aaliyah added on. “She literally committed, so I don’t know why you’re trying to scare her away. She’s on the team now.”

“What do you even have against her?” Nikka questioned.

There was silence for a second, before Paige groaned. “Nothing. Just some tension from a few years ago, I guess.”

Tension that you caused, Azzi thought to herself. When she’d first met the blonde, she’d been fine with her, not particularly liking or disliking her. But after Paige had started being hostile around her, Azzi started to reciprocate the same negative feelings, resulting in the tensions that Paige was speaking of.

The girls returned. Paige’s face was now contorted into an unnatural, almost creepy smile. Azzi was sure Aaliyah had forced Paige to smile and this was the best the blonde could come up with.

“Welcome to UConn!” Paige said, her words dripping with faux excitement and peppiness. She glanced at Nika, who prodded her on with an encouraging smile, as if Paige was a kid that was being forced to apologize to their classmate whose blocks she’d knocked over. Paige motioned for the ball, and Azzi reluctantly tossed it over to her. She examined it, then spun it on her finger, copying what Azzi did earlier. “UConn.” She gestured at the banners, at the gleaming trophies lining the walls. “The basketball capital of the world.”

[estapa-edwards]

TEAMMATES - C. BEDARD

paring: Connor Bedard x fem! reader

word count: 3.9k

requested? yes -connor bedard falling in love with his teammate, she’s one or two years older and plays for the blackhawks and he just falls in love so hard and she does so too but more cautious

warnings: use of y/n.

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As I stepped onto the ice, the chill of the arena enveloped me, sending a shiver down my spine. The familiar sound of skates cutting through the ice filled the air, mingling with the cheers and chatter of the crowd. This was home, the place where I belonged - on the rink, with my team, the Chicago Blackhawks.

Among the sea of jerseys and helmets, one figure stood out: Connor Bedard, our star player. His skill and talent were undeniable, but there was something else about him that caught my eye - a certain intensity, a fire that burned within him every time he stepped onto the ice.

I had heard the rumors, of course. Connor Bedard, the prodigy, hailed as the next great hockey phenom. But what intrigued me wasn't just his talent; it was the way he carried himself, the determination in his eyes, the way he moved with such grace and precision.

As I skated over to join the warm-up drills, I couldn't help but steal glances at him. His blonde hair peeked out from under his helmet, his blue eyes focused and unwavering. There was a magnetic pull between us, a connection that I couldn't quite explain.

"Y/N, you with us?" My teammate's voice snapped me out of my thoughts, and I forced myself to focus on the task at hand.

"Yeah, sorry, just... zoning out," I replied, trying to shake off the strange feeling that had settled in the pit of my stomach.

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The ice rink was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of the overhead lights as Connor and I skated side by side, the sound of our blades cutting through the ice echoing in the empty arena. It was moments like these that I cherished the most - just the two of us, lost in our own little world.

I focused on perfecting my shots, the puck gliding effortlessly across the ice as I aimed for the top corner of the net. But no matter how hard I tried to concentrate, I couldn't shake the feeling of Connor's eyes on me, his gaze burning into my skin like a searing flame.

"Nice shot," he called out, flashing me a grin as he skated over to retrieve the puck.

"Thanks," I replied, feeling a blush creeping up my cheeks.

As he passed the puck back to me, his hand brushed against mine, sending a jolt of electricity shooting through my veins. I tried to ignore the fluttering sensation in my stomach, focusing instead on the task at hand.

But Connor had other ideas.

"Mind if I show you a trick?" he asked, skating closer until our bodies were almost touching.

"Sure," I replied, trying to sound casual despite the rapid thud of my heart.

With a mischievous glint in his eye, Connor skated backwards, effortlessly guiding the puck with his stick as he moved with fluid grace across the ice. I watched in awe as he performed a series of intricate maneuvers, each one more impressive than the last.

"See?" he said, flashing me a cocky grin as he skated back towards me.

"Yeah, that was... impressive," I replied, trying to hide the awe in my voice.

As he reached out to hand me the puck, his fingers brushed against mine once again, sending a shiver down my spine. I tried to ignore the tingling sensation that lingered in the air between us, focusing instead on the task at hand.

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The arena was alive with energy as the game entered its final minutes, the score tied and the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Every pass, every shot, every save was met with a roar of approval from the crowd, the atmosphere electric with anticipation.

As I skated onto the ice, the familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins, I could feel the weight of the game resting on my shoulders. This was it - the moment I had been training for, the chance to prove myself on the biggest stage of all.

With a burst of speed, I charged towards the net, the puck glued to my stick as I dodged and weaved my way through the opposing defense. I could feel the eyes of the crowd on me, their cheers and chants urging me on as I closed in on the goal.

And then, in a split second that felt like an eternity, it happened - the puck sailed past the goalie and into the net, the sound of the crowd erupting into cheers echoing in my ears.

I had scored.

As I skated back towards my teammates, a sense of euphoria washed over me, the adrenaline still coursing through my veins as I high-fived my fellow players. But as I glanced over at Connor, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips, I knew that this goal was about more than just me - it was about us, about the bond that we shared both on and off the ice.

"Nice shot, Y/N!" Connor called out, skating over to join me with a grin on his face.

"Thanks," I replied, feeling a rush of pride at his words.

And then, without another word, he held out his hand, the puck resting on the tip of his stick as he prepared to make the perfect pass.

"Ready?" he asked, his eyes meeting mine with a look of determination.

"Ready," I replied, a smile spreading across my face as I skated into position.

With a flick of his wrist, Connor sent the puck soaring through the air, perfectly timed and perfectly placed. And as I reached out to meet it, my stick connecting with the puck in a seamless motion, I felt a surge of adrenaline rush through me once again.

And then, in a flash of movement that seemed to defy time itself, I took the shot, the puck sailing past the goalie and into the net with a satisfying thud.

We had done it.

As the crowd erupted into cheers and applause, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride wash over me. This wasn't just a goal - it was a testament to everything we had worked for, everything we had overcome together.

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The atmosphere in the arena was tense as the game against the Devils reached its peak, the score neck and neck, every play crucial to the outcome. As the puck zipped across the ice, bodies collided, sticks clashed, and the sound of the crowd intensified with every shot on goal.

Connor, as always, was at the heart of the action, his skill and determination evident in every move he made. But as the game wore on, a sense of unease settled over me, a feeling that something wasn't quite right.

And then, in a split second that seemed to freeze time itself, it happened - a sickening crunch echoed through the arena as Connor collided with an opposing player, his body crumpling to the ice in a heap.

Time seemed to stand still as I watched in horror from the bench, my heart pounding in my chest as the realization sunk in. Connor was hurt, and he was hurt badly.

Without a second thought, I leaped to my feet, my skates clattering against the hard surface of the bench as I rushed onto the ice. The crowd's cheers and chants faded into the background as I made my way towards him, my only focus on the figure lying motionless on the ice.

"Connor!" I called out, my voice echoing through the empty arena as I knelt beside him.

He lay there, his face twisted in pain, blood pooling beneath him as he clutched at his jaw. My heart ached at the sight of him, his normally vibrant blue eyes dulled with agony.

"Y/N," he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. "I think... I think I broke my jaw."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I reached out to touch him, my fingers trembling as they brushed against his cheek. He winced at the contact, but he didn't pull away, his gaze locked with mine in silent understanding.

"We need to get you off the ice," I said, my voice barely audible over the roar of the crowd.

With a nod, he struggled to his feet, leaning heavily on me for support as we made our way towards the bench. The crowd's cheers and chants seemed to fade into the background as we disappeared into the tunnel, leaving behind the chaos of the game.

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The first period ended in a blur of chaos and confusion, the atmosphere in the locker room tense as we waited for news of Connor's condition. Every passing minute felt like an eternity, each second dragging on as we anxiously paced back and forth, our thoughts consumed by worry and fear.

And then, finally, the door swung open, and there he was - Connor, his face pale and drawn, but his eyes filled with determination.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, rushing to his side as he sank onto the nearest bench.

"Like I got hit by a freight train," he replied with a weak smile, his voice hoarse with pain.

I winced at the sight of him, his jaw swollen and bruised, his normally cheerful demeanor replaced by a grimace of agony. But despite the pain etched on his face, there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes, a determination to soldier on no matter what.

"We'll get through this," I said, reaching out to squeeze his hand in reassurance.

He nodded in agreement, his grip tight and reassuring as we sat together in the quiet of the locker room, the sound of our breathing the only thing breaking the silence.

The news of Connor's injury weighed heavily on all of us as we awaited word from the doctors. When the diagnosis came back confirming a broken jaw requiring surgery, a sense of somberness fell over the locker room. But amidst the uncertainty, there was one thing that remained clear - Connor needed support, and he needed it now.

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As the team dispersed to make arrangements for Connor's surgery and recovery, I knew that I had to do something to help. Without hesitation, I offered to have him stay with me during his recovery, knowing that he would need all the help and support he could get.

"Are you sure about this?" Connor asked, his voice filled with gratitude as we sat together in the quiet of the locker room.

"Absolutely," I replied, my heart swelling with determination. "You've always been there for me, Connor, and now it's my turn to be there for you."

With a nod of agreement, Connor accepted my offer, his eyes shining with gratitude as we made plans for his surgery and recovery. And as we left the locker room together, a sense of purpose filled the air, a determination to see Connor through this difficult time no matter what.

The day of Connor's surgery arrived with a mixture of nerves and anticipation, the air thick with tension as we made our way to the hospital. As we sat together in the waiting room, the minutes seemed to stretch on endlessly, each passing second filled with worry and fear.

But finally, the door swung open, and there he was - Connor, his face pale and drawn, but his eyes filled with determination.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, rushing to his side as he emerged from the operating room.

"Like I got hit by a truck," he replied with a weak smile, his voice muffled by the bandages wrapped around his jaw.

I winced at the sight of him, his face swollen and bruised from the surgery, but there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes, a determination to soldier on no matter what.

With gentle hands, I helped him to his feet, supporting him as we made our way out of the hospital and into the waiting car. The journey home was quiet, the silence broken only by the sound of our breathing as we navigated the familiar streets of the city.

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As we arrived at my apartment, I helped Connor inside, guiding him to the couch where he would spend the next few days recovering. And as I tucked him in with a warm blanket and a soft pillow, I knew that no matter what the future held, we would face it together, side by side, skating towards our dreams.

The days passed in a blur of doctor's appointments, medication schedules, and endless hours spent by Connor's side, tending to his every need. But as the initial shock of his injury wore off, frustration began to set in, gnawing away at Connor's resolve like a persistent ache.

"I hate this," he muttered, his voice thick with frustration as he struggled to adjust to life with a broken jaw.

"I know it's tough," I replied, my heart aching at the sight of him in pain. "But you're doing great, Connor. You're strong, and you'll get through this."

He sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he sank deeper into the couch. "I just feel so... useless," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

I reached out to touch him, my fingers brushing against his cheek in a gesture of comfort. "You're not useless, Connor," I said, my voice filled with conviction. "You're brave and resilient, and you're handling this with so much strength and courage."

He looked up at me, his eyes filled with doubt and uncertainty. "But what if I never play hockey again?" he whispered, his voice trembling with fear.

My heart broke at the thought of him giving up on his dreams, his passion for the game dimming like a fading flame. But I refused to let him succumb to despair, to let his injury define him.

"You will play hockey again, Connor," I said, my voice firm and unwavering. "This is just a setback, a temporary obstacle in the road. But you'll overcome it, and when you do, you'll be stronger than ever."

For a moment, he was silent, his gaze locked with mine in silent understanding. And then, with a nod of determination, he squared his shoulders and met my gaze with renewed resolve.

"Thank you, Y/N," he said, his voice filled with gratitude. "For everything."

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The days stretched on, each one feeling longer and more monotonous than the last as Connor's frustration continued to grow. Despite my best efforts to keep his spirits up, there was a restless energy that simmered beneath the surface, a longing for the one thing that had always brought him solace - the ice.

"I can't take it anymore," Connor muttered, his voice tinged with desperation as he paced back and forth across the living room. "I need to get back on the ice."

I watched him from the couch, my heart aching at the sight of him so restless and unsettled. It had been weeks since his surgery, and the confines of my apartment were starting to feel like a prison to him.

"I know, Connor," I replied, my voice soft with sympathy. "But the doctor said you need to rest and recover."

"But I can't just sit here and do nothing," he protested, his frustration boiling over like a pot about to spill. "I need to move, to skate, to feel the rush of the ice beneath my feet."

I sighed, knowing that there was little I could do to ease his longing. But then, an idea began to form in my mind, a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness.

"Maybe... maybe we could go watch a practice," I suggested tentatively, the words spilling out before I could stop them.

Connor's eyes lit up at the suggestion, his face breaking into a wide grin at the prospect of being back at the rink, even if only as a spectator.

"Really?" he asked, his voice tinged with excitement.

I nodded, a smile spreading across my face at the sight of him so eager and hopeful. "Yes, really. We'll go watch a practice, and maybe it'll help ease some of that restlessness."

And so, with a newfound sense of purpose and determination, we made our way to the rink, the anticipation building with every step. As we stepped inside the arena, the familiar sound of skates cutting through the ice filled the air, mingling with the cheers and chatter of the crowd.

And as Connor's eyes lit up at the sight of the rink, a sense of peace washed over me, knowing that even in the darkest of times, there was still hope, still the promise of better days ahead.

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The day had finally arrived - the day Connor would step back onto the ice for the first time since his injury. As we made our way to the rink, anticipation hung in the air, a palpable energy that crackled with excitement and nerves.

"I can't believe it's finally happening," Connor said, his voice filled with awe as he gazed out at the ice.

I smiled at him, a sense of pride swelling in my chest at the sight of him so eager and determined. It had been a long and arduous journey, but finally, he was here, ready to reclaim his rightful place on the ice.

With a deep breath, Connor laced up his skates, the familiar sensation sending a rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He took a moment to savor the feeling, the cold bite of the ice beneath his feet, the sound of his blades cutting through the surface with each stride.

And then, with a burst of speed, he was off, gliding effortlessly across the ice with a grace and precision that seemed to defy gravity. It was as if he had never been away, as if the weeks spent off the ice had been nothing more than a distant memory.

I watched from the sidelines, my heart swelling with pride as I witnessed the sheer determination and resilience that defined Connor's spirit. Despite the challenges he had faced, he had never once given up, never once lost sight of his dreams.

As he practiced alone, honing his skills and perfecting his moves, I couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the sight of him so focused and determined. This was Connor at his best, his passion for the game burning brighter than ever before.

And as the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the ice, Connor finally skated over to join me at the boards, his face flushed with exertion but his eyes shining with pride.

"Thank you, Y/N," he said, his voice filled with gratitude. "For everything."

I smiled at him, a sense of warmth and contentment washing over me as I reached out to squeeze his hand in reassurance.

"Anytime, Connor," I replied, my voice filled with sincerity. "Anytime."

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As I stepped onto the ice, the familiar chill of the rink enveloped me, sending a shiver down my spine. It was moments like these that I cherished the most - the quiet solitude of the ice, the freedom to lose myself in the rhythm of my skates.

But today was different. Today, my thoughts were consumed by one thing and one thing only - Y/N.

From the moment I first saw her, I knew there was something special about her, something that set her apart from the rest. Maybe it was the way she moved, with a grace and elegance that seemed to defy logic. Or maybe it was the sparkle in her eyes, a fire that burned bright and fierce with every glance.

Whatever it was, I found myself drawn to her like a moth to a flame, unable to resist the magnetic pull that seemed to bind us together. And as we spent more time together, practicing on the ice and sharing quiet moments off of it, I knew that what I felt for her went beyond mere attraction - it was something deeper, something more profound.

But love was a dangerous game, one that I wasn't sure I was ready to play. After all, I was a hockey player, with a career and a reputation to uphold. Falling for a teammate, especially one as talented and captivating as Y/N, was a risk I wasn't sure I was willing to take.

And yet, despite my reservations, I couldn't deny the way my heart raced every time she was near, the way my pulse quickened at the sound of her voice. With every smile, every laugh, every shared moment, I found myself falling for her more and more, like a snowflake drifting gently towards the ground.

But love was a two-way street, and I couldn't shake the feeling that Y/N was more cautious than I was, more guarded with her heart. And who could blame her? After all, she had her own dreams and ambitions, her own fears and insecurities.

But still, I couldn't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, she felt the same way I did. That maybe, in the quiet moments between practices and games, she found herself thinking of me as much as I thought of her.

The adrenaline surged through me as I stepped onto the ice for my first game back since the injury. The roar of the crowd enveloped me, a cacophony of cheers and chants that echoed in my ears like a symphony of triumph. This was it - my chance to prove that I was back, stronger and more determined than ever before.

The game was intense, a fierce battle between two rival teams vying for victory. Every pass, every shot, every save was met with a roar of approval from the crowd, the energy in the arena palpable. And as the final minutes of the third period ticked away, the score remained tied, the tension mounting with each passing second.

But then, in a split second that seemed to stretch into eternity, it happened - the puck found its way to me, and with a burst of speed, I charged towards the net, the goal looming large in my sights. With every ounce of strength and determination I had, I took the shot, the puck sailing past the goalie and into the net with a satisfying thud.

The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, the sound washing over me like a wave of euphoria. I had done it - I had scored.

As I skated back to the bench, my heart pounding with excitement, I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and accomplishment. This was more than just a goal - it was a testament to everything I had overcome, a reminder that no matter what life threw at me, I would always find a way to rise above it.

And as I sat in the locker room after the game, surrounded by my teammates, I knew that there was something else I needed to do. Something that had been weighing heavily on my mind ever since I stepped back onto the ice.

"Y/N," I said, my voice trembling with emotion as I turned to face her. "I need to talk to you."

She looked up at me, her eyes filled with curiosity and concern. "What is it, Connor? Are you okay?"

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what I was about to say. "I... I need to tell you something," I began, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Ever since I met you, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. You've become more than just a teammate to me - you've become everything."

Her eyes widened in surprise, a blush creeping up her cheeks as she realized what I was trying to say. "Connor, I... I feel the same way," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of my racing heart.