#a superstar and he thinks about her all the time and he watches her games and blushes. you have to know

[dayurno]

having a serious kevthea moment and making a playlist and it's literally the corniest love songs of the 2000s because i think and i know in my heart kevin day was sitting at home giggling kicking his feet thinking about that older woman

[its-avalon-08]

Could you write something where reader and Lando have been in a relationship and reader has a heart condition and she never told Lando so he didn’t stress about her and to focus on racing, and Lando and her brake up because he stupidly told her he wants to focus on racing this year and after she left he realised his mistake as all the little things reader did for him before a race are all gone and everything just feels wrong and when he tries to contact her he can’t find her until a few weeks later he gets a call from the hospital that reader has fallen unconscious and when he gets there he then learns about her heart condition and that stress is not good for her heart. But happy ending.

heart flutters (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, tears, comfort, heart condition

The morning sun slipped through the curtains, casting a soft glow over Lando’s bedroom. Y/N was lying beside him, her hand resting on his chest, her breathing soft and steady. Lando felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth as he looked down at her, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

He couldn’t quite remember when his mornings had become this perfect, but he knew Y/N had something to do with it.

She shifted, blinking awake, and her sleepy smile met his gaze. “Good morning, love,” she murmured, voice still thick with sleep.

"Morning," he replied, kissing her forehead. "Did you sleep okay?"

“Always do when I’m with you,” she replied, snuggling closer. “Although I could do without you hogging the blanket,” she teased, giving him a playful poke.

Lando laughed, pulling her closer. “Alright, alright, I’ll work on it.”

These mornings together, the lazy Sundays and cozy, laughter-filled moments, were Y/N’s specialty. She seemed to know exactly what he needed, especially on race days. She’d wake up early with him, helping him calm his nerves and making sure he had everything he needed. And every time, he’d find some new way she was taking care of him, even if it was something small—like hiding a little note in his helmet, wishing him luck.

“Hey,” Y/N said, watching his thoughtful expression. “You okay?”

Lando nodded. “Just thinking about how lucky I am,” he admitted, his voice soft.

Y/N blushed, rolling her eyes a little. “You’re getting sappy on me, Norris.”

“Just telling it like it is,” he replied, smiling as he watched her try to hide her smile.

They went about their morning, with Y/N humming along to the soft music playing in the kitchen as she made breakfast. She slid a plate across to Lando, along with a steaming cup of his favorite coffee. He took a sip, sighing in contentment. She’d even managed to get his coffee just right.

"Alright, mister," she said with a smirk, sitting down beside him. "What's the game plan today?"

"Game plan?” he teased, raising an eyebrow. “Thought you were the expert at making my plans.”

“Maybe,” she replied, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “But I like to think I’m just the support. You’re the superstar here.”

Lando rolled his eyes, chuckling. “You’re more than support, Y/N. You’re… you’re my everything, you know that?”

Y/N smiled, but there was a flicker of hesitation in her eyes, something he didn’t notice, too wrapped up in the moment. She covered it up with a quick laugh, brushing it off. “And you’re mine. Just… try not to get too cocky on track, alright?”

He laughed, squeezing her hand. “Can’t make any promises.”

Their relationship was filled with moments like these—easy, natural, just them being themselves. Y/N grounded him, kept him steady, especially when the world of racing felt overwhelming. She never burdened him with anything else, always making sure his focus was on the track. And she always brushed off his attempts to give back, saying his happiness was all she needed.

But it was Lando who felt like he needed her more than he’d ever admit.

As they finished breakfast, she reached out, taking his hand. "You'll do amazing, Lando," she said quietly. "You always do."

"I only do so well because of you, you know that?" he replied, squeezing her hand.

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes again, but there was warmth there, too. “Alright, alright, enough with the sweet talk. Go focus on your race and be the best you can be out there. That’s all I ask.”

Lando leaned in, kissing her softly. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Norris,” she replied, grinning as she kissed him back.

As he left for the track, he felt a familiar sense of calm wash over him. Y/N had this way of making everything feel right, grounding him no matter what lay ahead. He knew, deep down, that he’d never be able to thank her enough for everything she did for him.

And for Y/N, watching him walk out the door with that smile, she knew that was exactly how she wanted it to be.

--

It was late, and the rain was tapping against the window of Lando’s apartment as he paced back and forth, hands tangled in his hair. The 2024 season had been brutal, every race pushing him to his limit, the pressure of a potential world championship win weighing on him like a mountain. He could practically taste the victory, but the stress of it all had made him someone he barely recognized.

Y/N was sitting on the couch, arms crossed as she watched him pace. She’d noticed it for weeks now, the way he was shutting her out, snapping at her for even the smallest things, as if she were just another distraction.

Finally, she broke the silence, her voice sharp. “Lando, can you stop pacing for two seconds and talk to me?”

He stopped, sighing heavily as he turned to face her. “What do you want me to say, Y/N?” he muttered. “That I’m exhausted? That I can’t focus with all of this going on?”

“All of this?” she echoed, hurt flashing across her face. “What’s ‘all of this,’ exactly? Because I thought we were a team, Lando. I thought I was helping you!”

“Helping me?” he scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “Y/N, I have to focus. Every race, every lap, every second counts right now. I can’t… I don’t have time to be dealing with you—”

“Dealing with me?” Her voice was sharp, a bitter laugh escaping her. “Lando, I’ve done nothing but support you. Every single time you’re struggling, I’m here. And now you’re telling me I’m… I’m a distraction?”

He clenched his fists, too frustrated to back down. “That’s exactly what I’m saying! Every time I’m around you, I feel like I’m being pulled in a million directions. I need to focus on racing, Y/N. I need this championship.”

“And what about us, Lando?” she demanded, standing up, her own anger now matching his. “Do I mean anything to you anymore, or am I just some inconvenience? Because that’s exactly how you’re making me feel.”

He looked away, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “Maybe it’s just not working anymore.”

Her eyes widened, the pain in them unmistakable. She took a shaky breath, her voice barely a whisper. “So that’s it? Just like that? You’re giving up on us?”

“Maybe I am,” he snapped, though even as he said it, something twisted painfully in his chest. “Maybe I need to focus on my career. I can’t have anyone holding me back right now.”

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. “Holding you back? I’m holding you back, Lando? After everything I’ve done? The sacrifices I’ve made, the nights I stayed up worrying for you, the races I watched, praying you’d come home safe… that’s ‘holding you back’?”

“You just don’t understand,” he muttered, his voice softer now but still laced with frustration. “You don’t get the pressure I’m under, Y/N. I have a chance to win this championship, and I can’t be thinking about anything else.”

“Oh, I understand perfectly,” she replied, her tone cold. “You’ve let this championship turn you into someone I barely recognize. The Lando I knew would have never pushed me away like this.”

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think,” he said, the words hitting her like a slap.

She swallowed hard, the hurt on her face plain to see. But she wasn’t about to let him get away with this. “You’re right,” she replied, her voice trembling with anger. “Maybe I don’t know you anymore. Because the man I fell in love with would have never treated me like this. He wouldn’t have thrown away everything we have because he’s too blinded by his own ambition.”

“Fine,” he spat, his anger still raging. “Maybe you should just leave, then.”

Silence fell between them, the weight of his words settling like a stone in the room. Y/N stared at him, her eyes filling with tears, but she refused to let them fall.

“Don’t worry, Lando,” she said, her voice breaking slightly as she grabbed her coat from the back of the chair. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from your precious championship.”

She turned toward the door, but stopped just before leaving, looking back at him one last time. “I hope it’s worth it, Lando. I really do.”

And with that, she was gone, the sound of the door slamming shut echoing in the silence of the apartment.

Lando stood there, the anger that had been burning inside him now replaced by a hollow ache. He’d gotten what he’d wanted—he was free to focus on his racing. But as he looked around the empty room, he realized just how empty his life felt without her.

--

Lando sat alone in his dimly lit apartment, the silence pressing in on him like a weight he couldn’t shake off. It had been two weeks since Y/N had walked out. At first, he told himself he’d done the right thing, that he needed to focus on racing, that he couldn’t afford any distractions. But now, all he could feel was the aching void she’d left behind.

Race weekend had come, and the pre-race routines—the moments that had once been so seamless, so comforting—now felt cold and empty. His helmet was sitting on the counter, untouched. There were no little notes tucked into his bag, no reminders to stay safe, no lucky charm slipped into his hand just before he left for the track. Y/N had always known what to do, how to make him feel like he could conquer the world. Now, everything just felt wrong.

He leaned against the counter, clutching the edge, his heart pounding as he stared down at his helmet. The knot in his chest tightened with each passing second, a harsh reminder of how badly he’d messed up.

“Lando?” Max entered the room, noticing his tense expression. “You alright, mate? You don’t look yourself.”

Lando managed a hollow smile, waving him off. “I’m fine.”

But Max wasn’t convinced. He took a seat across from him, eyeing him carefully. “You’ve been off these past few weeks. Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”

“Yeah, just… racing stress, you know?” Lando muttered, though he knew it was a lie. It wasn’t racing stress—it was Y/N. She’d been his anchor, the one person who made him feel like he was more than just a driver. Without her, he felt like he was falling apart.

Max raised an eyebrow, skeptical but respectful enough not to push further. “Alright, well… if you need anything, let me know. You know I’m here for you.”

“Thanks,” Lando replied, trying to keep his voice steady. But as Max left, the emptiness clawed at him even more fiercely. He glanced back down at his helmet, the silence in the room growing louder, deafening.

He couldn’t hold it in any longer. He slumped down onto the floor, burying his face in his hands as memories flooded him. He remembered the way Y/N would look at him with those warm eyes, her voice filled with gentle reassurance.

The more Lando went through his days, the more he noticed just how much Y/N had been woven into every corner of his life. Each time he stumbled over a small moment they used to share, it was like a painful reminder of how deeply he had messed up.

Race Day Routine

When he sat down for breakfast the morning of his next race, he instinctively reached for the small bag she’d usually leave out for him—one filled with his favorite snacks, electrolyte packets, and a note in her neat handwriting that usually said, “For that extra boost, love. You’ve got this.” Every race day morning, she’d make sure his essentials were perfectly packed, knowing how easily he’d forget them in the rush.

But the counter was empty, and so were his hands. There was no note, no bag, no encouraging message. He’d scoffed at how overprotective she’d been, thinking he could handle it himself. Now, as he fumbled to prepare for his race on his own, the empty counter felt like a gaping hole in his chest.

Before the Race

In the paddock, he felt it again, the silence louder than ever. Y/N would always make sure to slip away with him for just a moment before he stepped into the garage, giving him a quiet pep talk when he needed it most. Her words, so full of calm and warmth, used to steady him, keeping the pressure from crushing him. She’d take his face in her hands, look him straight in the eyes, and remind him, “It’s just you and the track. Nothing else matters. Drive like only you can.”

He’d rolled his eyes at her sometimes, told her he didn’t need the cheesy encouragement—but she’d insisted anyway, saying, “Well, too bad, because you’re getting it.” Her words were like armor, a shield she’d wrapped around him before every race.

Now, standing alone by his car, he could feel the pressure creeping in, gnawing at him, and there was nothing to keep it at bay. He glanced around, almost expecting to see her in the crowd, but of course, she wasn’t there.

Late Nights in the Simulator

Back at the team facility, he spent more time than ever practicing, pushing himself harder, trying to keep his mind from drifting back to her. But even here, she’d left her mark. On the long nights, Y/N used to bring him coffee, perfectly made just the way he liked it, and sit beside him, giving him quiet company. She wouldn’t say much, just enough to keep his spirits up, occasionally throwing him an encouraging smile as he took lap after lap in the simulator.

And when he’d get frustrated, when he’d curse and slam his fists on the table, she’d place a calming hand on his shoulder, reminding him, “You’re Lando Norris, you can do this. Don’t let the tough laps get to you. Breathe.”

Now, he sat there, tense and alone, his coffee lukewarm and forgotten. No hand to steady him, no quiet reassurance. The simulator felt cold, and so did he.

At Home, Late at Night

Even the nights felt wrong. Y/N had always insisted on turning on the small night light for him, a tiny habit she’d developed when she realized that he hated stumbling around in the dark after a race, too exhausted to find his way. He’d teased her about it, saying he didn’t need it, but she’d laugh, saying, “Well, one of us does.” She’d make sure it was on for him every night she stayed over, like clockwork.

Tonight, he sat in the pitch-black room, the silence pressing in, the absence of the warm glow almost suffocating. He clenched his fists, swallowing against the ache that was rising in his throat. He missed her laugh, her teasing, the tiny acts of love she’d filled his life with.

Flashback

“You’re going to be amazing today, Lando,” she’d whisper, holding his hand just before he stepped onto the track. “Just remember, it’s not about winning or losing to me. I love you just the same, no matter what.”

And he’d feel his nerves melt away. She had a way of making him feel like he could face anything.

Now, without her, the fear crept back in, gnawing at him from the inside.

He pressed his palms into his eyes, a shaky breath escaping him. “God… what have I done?”

Every little thing she used to do, every act of kindness, every word of encouragement—he’d taken it all for granted. He thought he could focus better without her, that his life would be easier. But instead, all he felt was the emptiness of her absence, like a cold shadow in every corner.

His phone buzzed on the counter, and his heart jumped, a surge of desperate hope flooding him as he reached for it. But it was just a message from his manager.

Frustration tore through him, and he tossed his phone down, clenching his fists. He could still hear her voice in his head, her words from their last fight haunting him.

Flashback to Their Argument

“Don’t worry, Lando,” she’d said bitterly, her voice cracking. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from your precious championship.”

He remembered her eyes, red and tear-filled, as she looked at him one last time, filled with a pain he’d caused. He remembered thinking he was doing the right thing, choosing his career, telling himself he couldn’t afford to be vulnerable.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he muttered to himself, feeling a tear slip down his cheek.

Everything felt different without her. The things he used to love—the rush of the track, the thrill of competition—they all felt meaningless now. He was pushing himself harder than ever, but it wasn’t out of passion. It was to numb the ache she’d left behind, to keep himself from falling apart.

But no matter how fast he drove, how hard he pushed, he couldn’t outrun the realization.

Race Day Morning

He stood in front of the mirror, suit half-zipped, his hands gripping the sink as he stared at his own reflection. His face looked drawn, the shadows under his eyes deep. The loneliness, the guilt, the regret—it was all written there, plain as day.

“You look terrible,” he muttered to himself, voice hollow.

He remembered the way she’d stand beside him, fixing his collar, laughing as she reminded him to keep his head cool. And now, all he had was his own reflection staring back at him, mocking him with his own emptiness.

Finally, the weight became too much, and he grabbed his phone, his fingers shaking as he typed her number. He didn’t know what he was going to say, didn’t know if she’d even answer. But he couldn’t keep going like this. He needed to apologize, to tell her how wrong he’d been, how much he missed her.

The phone rang, each ring feeling like an eternity. Just as he was about to give up, her voicemail clicked on.

“Hey, it’s Y/N… leave a message.”

He swallowed hard, the sound of her voice hitting him like a punch to the gut. Taking a shaky breath, he spoke, his voice breaking.

“Y/N… it’s me. I… I don’t know if you’ll ever listen to this, but I just… I’m so sorry.” His voice trembled, each word spilling out like a confession. “I was wrong, okay? I thought I needed to focus, but without you… everything’s falling apart. I miss you. I miss… us. Please… please just… call me back.”

He hung up, feeling the weight of his own words settle over him. But there was nothing else he could do now, except hope—hope that somehow, she might still care, might still give him a chance to fix the mess he’d made.

--

Lando had tried everything. He’d called, texted, even reached out to her friends, hoping someone could tell him where she was. But no one had any information; she’d slipped away completely. Days turned into weeks, and with each one, the realization sank deeper: she might never come back.

One night, Lando sat alone in his apartment, drained and unfocused, his phone resting on the coffee table. His mind was restless, jumping between regret and desperation, reliving their last fight, the look in her eyes as she’d walked out.

Then, the phone rang, startling him out of his thoughts. He grabbed it without thinking, not even checking the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Is this Lando Norris?” a calm, professional voice asked.

“Uh… yeah, this is him,” Lando replied, his heart pounding.

“This is Dr. Kapoor from St. Thomas Hospital. You’re listed as an emergency contact for Y/N Y/L/N.”

Lando’s stomach dropped, his throat suddenly dry. “Yes, yes, that’s me… is she alright? What happened?”

“She was brought in unconscious a few hours ago,” the doctor explained. “We’ve stabilized her, but we’d like you to come in as soon as possible.”

Lando didn’t need to hear anything else. He muttered a frantic “I’m on my way” before grabbing his keys and running out the door.

The drive to the hospital felt endless, each passing second stretching painfully as he sped down the empty streets. His mind raced with possibilities, the worst scenarios creeping in, twisting his insides. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly they were white.

By the time he burst through the hospital doors, he was gasping for breath, his heart pounding as he frantically searched for her room. A nurse pointed him down the hall, and he bolted, not caring how he looked, just needing to see her, to know she was alright.

He found her room and stopped, momentarily frozen by the sight before him. Y/N lay in the hospital bed, pale and fragile, wires and monitors surrounding her. The steady beep of her heart monitor filled the room, grounding him slightly, but the sight of her like this tore at him. Slowly, he stepped forward, his throat tight, struggling to keep his emotions in check.

Just as he was about to speak, the doctor entered.

“Mr. Norris?” Dr. Kapoor’s voice was gentle, sensing his distress.

Lando nodded, barely able to manage a word. “What… what happened to her?”

Dr. Kapoor took a deep breath, her expression softening. “Y/N has a heart condition called hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. It’s a condition that can be exacerbated by stress, which could lead to fainting or, in severe cases, even heart failure.”

Lando’s face fell, his voice barely a whisper. “She… she never told me.”

“She might not have wanted to worry you,” the doctor said. “It’s common for patients with this condition to keep it private, especially if they think it might place a burden on others.”

Lando’s heart twisted, a wave of guilt washing over him as he realized why she’d never mentioned it. She hadn’t wanted him to stress, to worry, especially during the season when he’d been under so much pressure. She’d always put him first, even to the point of hiding something so serious.

He took a shaky breath, blinking back tears. “Can I… can I see her?”

The doctor nodded. “She’s stable now, and she’ll likely wake up soon. But remember, keeping her calm is crucial. She’ll need rest and minimal stress to recover.”

Lando swallowed, nodding quickly, but he couldn’t keep the emotion out of his voice. “I’ll… I’ll take care of her. I swear.”

Dr. Kapoor offered him a small, understanding smile before leaving the room, giving him a moment alone with Y/N.

Lando stepped closer, reaching out to gently take her hand. His thumb traced over her knuckles, and he noticed how cold her hand felt in his.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I’m so sorry. I should have been there. I should have known.”

He sat beside her, the weight of everything hitting him all at once. “I was so… so stupid. I thought I needed to focus on racing, but… God, I was wrong. I was so wrong. You’re… you’re everything, Y/N. None of this means anything without you.”

He stayed like that, holding her hand, his head bowed as he let himself cry for the first time in weeks. All the pride, all the anger—it had melted away, leaving only the raw, aching regret of having pushed away the one person who truly loved him.

After a few minutes, he felt her fingers twitch slightly in his hand. His head shot up, hope flooding his chest as he saw her eyes slowly blink open.

“Y/N?” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

She blinked up at him, confusion flickering across her face before her gaze settled on him, and he saw a flash of pain in her eyes. “Lando…?”

He took a deep breath, his grip on her hand tightening. “I’m here. I’m right here, love.”

She tried to sit up, wincing as the monitor beeped slightly faster. Lando was quick to place a hand on her shoulder, his touch gentle but firm. “Hey, don’t… don’t push yourself. Just… just rest.”

She looked away, her voice barely a whisper. “Why are you here, Lando? I thought… you wanted to focus on racing.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, but he forced himself to face her, to let her see the remorse in his eyes. “I was wrong, Y/N. I was so, so wrong. I thought I needed to do it alone, that I couldn’t let myself get… attached. But all I did was ruin the best thing in my life.”

Her expression softened, and he saw her blinking back tears. “You really hurt me, Lando. I didn’t ask you for much. I just wanted to be there for you, and you… you made me feel like I was a burden.”

“I know,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “And I hate myself for it. You did everything for me, and I didn’t see it until you were gone. I love you, Y/N… I can’t lose you. Not like this.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and he reached up, brushing it away with a tenderness that spoke of all the things he wished he’d done sooner. “I’m here now,” he continued. “And if you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

She looked at him for a long moment, searching his face, and finally nodded, her hand squeezing his. “You hurt me, Lando. But… I still love you, too.”

Relief flooded his face, and he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I’ll be better. I promise.”

For the first time in weeks, Lando felt a spark of hope, knowing he had a chance to rebuild what he’d nearly thrown away. And as he sat beside her, holding her close, he vowed never to let her feel alone again.

--

Lando had been the perfect caretaker ever since Y/N was discharged from the hospital. He took her straight back to their apartment, rearranging everything in his life to ensure she was comfortable and safe. Every morning, he’d bring her breakfast in bed with a ridiculous grin, complete with heart-shaped toast and fresh orange juice. He filled her day with little surprises—flowers by her bedside, a new stack of her favorite books, and even a fuzzy blanket he’d bought just for her.

One night, Y/N woke up in the middle of the night, instinctively reaching for him, only to find his side of the bed empty. Confused, she sat up, rubbing her eyes. She hadn’t heard him get up, and her heart skipped slightly as worry bubbled up, wondering if something was wrong.

Quietly, she slipped out of bed, her bare feet padding softly as she went to look for him. She found him in the living room, seated on the couch with his laptop open and a small notebook by his side. His hair was tousled, and he had a focused, almost determined expression on his face as he typed something into the search bar.

“Understanding Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy” appeared on the screen, along with several videos, articles, and patient forums. Lando had a pen in his hand, and as he clicked on a video, she watched as he jotted down notes on a page, his handwriting a messy scrawl but full of sincerity. The video’s audio was soft, and she could hear the narrator explaining symptoms, risk factors, and the importance of a low-stress environment.

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears as she watched him, realizing just how much he was trying to understand, to do anything he could to protect her.

“Alright,” he muttered to himself, tapping the pen on the notebook. “Avoid stress… maybe I can start doing a weekly meditation with her or, like… yoga? Yeah, that might help. And… maybe I should keep her work stuff organized so she doesn’t feel overwhelmed.”

Y/N couldn’t hold back any longer. She quietly stepped forward, and Lando jumped slightly when he felt her curl up on his lap, but he immediately wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice tender as he brushed a hand over her hair. “What are you doing awake?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she murmured, tilting her head to meet his gaze. Her eyes were soft, full of gratitude and love, and Lando’s heart swelled.

He gave her a sheepish smile, glancing at the open notebook. “I… I wanted to make sure I was doing everything right. I know I’ve messed up before, and I want to be the best I can be for you now. So, I figured… I’d do my homework.”

Y/N let out a quiet laugh, blinking back tears. “You’re really… reading up on my condition?”

“Of course I am,” he said, his voice warm but serious. “I need to know how to keep you safe. How to make sure you’re not stressed out or worried, and…” He swallowed, his voice breaking just a bit. “I just want to make everything perfect for you, love.”

She buried her face in his neck, her heart aching in the best way possible. “Lando… you’re already doing more than enough. Just… being here with me, caring for me… it’s more than I could ever ask for.”

“But it doesn’t feel like enough,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “I’m never going to let you feel alone or unimportant again. You’re my world, Y/N. I want to make sure you’re as healthy and happy as you can be.”

She pulled back, looking at him with watery eyes, a small smile on her face. “Lando, I don’t need perfection. I just need you.”

His expression softened as he cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “Well, you’re stuck with me,” he said, grinning. “Because I’m not going anywhere. And I’m gonna keep studying this and doing everything I can to make sure you feel safe and loved.”

She laughed through her tears, leaning into his hand. “You already make me feel so loved. I don’t think you even realize it, but you do.”

Lando’s smile turned gentle, and he bent down to press a tender kiss to her forehead. “Good. Because I’m crazy about you, Y/N. I just want to be the person you deserve.”

She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of his kiss settle over her, and wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. “You’re already that person, Lando. You always have been.”

He chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around her as he held her close. “Good. Because I’m not stopping until I see that smile on your face every single day.”

As Y/N nestled closer into his lap, her attention shifted to the laptop screen, where a doctor was speaking in a calm, measured tone.

“Managing stress is crucial for patients with hypertrophic cardiomyopathy,” the voice on the video explained. “Avoid situations that may induce high emotional stress. For instance, hostile conversations, arguments, or other confrontational exchanges can increase strain on the heart.”

Lando stilled, his gaze fixed on the screen as those words sank in. She could feel him tense beneath her, a flicker of regret passing over his face.

“That… makes sense,” he whispered, almost to himself. “I’ve been so selfish. I didn’t realize that my own stress… my own words… could actually make things worse for you.”

Y/N put her hand on his cheek, urging him to look at her. “Lando, it’s okay—”

“No,” he interrupted gently, meeting her gaze with a deep, remorseful look. “It’s not okay. I didn’t just make things stressful; I let you feel like you couldn’t even tell me what was going on with you. I was so wrapped up in myself… I can’t believe I was so blind.”

Y/N’s eyes softened as she watched him, the depth of his regret written all over his face. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “We’re here now. That’s what matters. You’re here, and I know how much you care.”

He exhaled slowly, wrapping his arms around her a little tighter. “I’ll never let stress come between us again, love. I promise.”

They sat together like that, wrapped up in each other, as the rest of the world faded away. Lando continued to stroke her hair, murmuring sweet promises of the future he envisioned for them. And for the first time in weeks, Y/N felt a calm settle over her, knowing that Lando was there, exactly where he wanted to be, and that he wasn’t going anywhere.

[hairmetal666]

Steve who goes on a Bake Off type show after Robin, Dustin, and Max set him up as a contestant. He doesn't want to, doesn't think baking or cooking should be stressful, but he's been wallowing since his knee surgery took him out of work and basketball, since his divorce.

His first day on set, he's totally gobsmacked by the sexy host with all the tattoos and long, curly hair. Just, cannot take his eyes off the guy, blushing and stammering whenever he comes around to do interviews, obviously can't stop starring.

After the first day, where he manages to stay comfortably in the middle of the pack, he calls Robin to complain about what a mess he becomes around this gorgeous dude.

Her response is to cackle and say, "Steve! How do you not know who Eddie Munson is? Oh my god, you're a disaster."

Turns out, Eddie Munson is the lead singer of Dustin's favorite band, Corroded Coffin, and also pretty well-known for his dnd YouTube channel. He's been a host on the show for years, only Steve doesn't really pay attention when the others watch it and didn't know.

Eddie, for his part, is losing his mind. He'd known about the beautiful contestant for this season, former college basketball superstar turned coach, having a hell of a shitty year after dislocating his kneecap in a charity game. Eddie--foolishly, it turns out--thought he wouldn't be as attractive in person. He also expected Steve to be terrible and egotistical, a jock through and through.

So, when Steve Harrington walks into the tent in a short-sleeved polo and obviously ironed jeans and is still drop-dead gorgeous, he's fucking flabbergasted. And then Steve has the audacity to be nice? Kind and thoughtful and running to help other bakers when he still has work to do himself? He also blushes so pretty, high across his nose and cheeks, and god does hewant to be the reason Steve blushes like that.

Eddie is beside himself.

Leading up to the second week, Steve schools himself into being calm around Eddie. He can't afford to lose his cool like that every time the host is around. Except, this week Eddie flirts with him shamelessly. Winks at him, leans into space, calls him "m'lord" with this deeply resonant voice that makes Steve want to drop to his knees. Steve doesn't mean to, not really, but he flirts right back, feeding Eddie tidbits of his bakes and looking for any excuse to touch him.

Steve does well for the first half of episodes. He never wins the technical or star baker, but he's regularly within the top contestants. On episode five, though, something is off. He's distracted, forgetful, doesn't leave enough time for his custard to set in the signature. Eddie asks if he's okay, but Steve shrugs and smiles, says "off my game today."

But then, in the technical, he curdles his buttercream more than once, and his genoise sponge burns. Eddie watches as Steve folds his arms above his head and disappears from view. He doesn't hesitate, he sprints from his interview, falling to his knees in front of the contestant.

"Stevie, sweetheart, what's going on?"

"I get migraines," Steve whispers. Trails of wet streak down his cheeks. "I've felt one coming all morning, been trying to stave it off but--"

"Okay, okay," Eddie shakes out his hands. "You can sit out this challenge, yeah? Or take this weekend off. It happens. You'll come back next week--"

"I don't want to stop." More tears fall from his eyes.

"What do you need?"

Steve shakes his head, wry little smile pulling at his lips. "Time to breathe."

Eddie glances up, eyes catching on the camera crew hovering in front of them. He throws both middle fingers up and says, in the most reasonable and even tone, "fuck!" Everyone in the tent looks at him, but he doesn't stop. "Shit!" "Bitch!" Motherfucker!" He goes on and on, saying the filthiest series of things he can think of. The camera crew steps away, another contestant brings Steve a glass of water, and Eddie sits with him.

The other host announces that there are thirty minutes remaining in the challenge.

"Well. That's that, then," Steve says. He stands, patting the naked skin of Eddie's knee where it shows through the rip in his jeans as he goes.

"Wait, what do you mean?"

"Out of time, no cake, no buttercream."

Eddie hops to his feet. "You're going to let that stop you?"

"Well." Steve laughs. "Can't serve this." He gestures to his discarded bowls of frosting, his burnt cake.

"You have time to make another buttercream."

Steve raises an eyebrow. "Sure, but not the cake."

"Cut the burnt off. Cover it in the buttercream. Easy peasy."

"Okay..." Steve stares at his station. "Okay, that could work. It won't be pretty, but--"

Eddie, knowing he's no longer needed, steps away, and Steve gets to work.

Steve tells Robin all about it and, as soon as he gets home from the taping and she's immediately like, "Eddie Munson, huh?"

He shoots her a look. "It's nothing."

"Yeah, him leaping over a table to check on you is surely nothing."

"Robin," he warns.

"What?"

"Eddie would never want a guy like me."

She laughs but quickly grows sober. "Steve. Of course he would. He likes you."

"It's nothing, really." He walks towards the kitchen. "What do you want for dinner?"

Eddie experiences the same harassment from his band members and their manager.

"You're gonna ask Harrington out, right?" Gareth asks.

"That would be a little bit of a professional conflict of interest," he deadpans. He doesn't look up from his guitar.

A puffed Cheeto smacks him square in the forehead. "Hey!" He shrieks.

"He means once the season is done, Edward," Chrissy says.

He wipes the cheese dust from his forehead. "Not a good enough reason to call me Edward. Anyway, I'm pretty sure he's straight."

Jeff guffaws. "C'mon, dude. No way. He's so into you he might as well have a neon sign."

"He divorced a woman."

"That doesn't mean anything, and you know it," Chrissy says.

Eddie rolls his eyes. "I may be considering asking him out. Maybe."

Everyone cheers. More Cheetos hit him in the face.

---

To Steve's great surprise, he makes it to the finals. Not just makes it, he gets a star baker, gets first in the semi-final technical. He's baking in the final and might have a fucking chance.

It's with great surprise, once it's all said and done, that he hears his name announced as the winner. He doesn't have much time to process it, because Eddie is striding towards him. He's not carrying the cake stand trophy or flowers, it's just Eddie.

Eddie who stops in front of him, eyes shining. Eddie who leans in and whispers, "I knew you could do it, baby, I'm so proud of you." Eddie who twines his fingers through Steve's hair, pulling him into a soft, sweet kiss.

The internet explodes as the season airs. Everyone is obsessed with Steve and Eddie. They have fics on ao3, a dedicated tumblr community, edits, playlists, gif sets, a ship name all dedicated to them. The fandom grows after episode 5 airs. Not all the footage makes it, thanks to Eddie, but they still witness him tenderly taking care of Steve and directing the cameras away. Fans start scouring their social medias, looking for any hint of their relationship status; even beg them in comments and DMs to reveal if it was just a showmance.

Eddie and Steve, however, are happy in the quiet little world the carved out for themselves after filming. They aren't ready to reveal anything, even hints, whether or not the show would let them.

Then, the final airs and the kiss is revealed to the world. The ending title cards show a picture of Steve with the rest of the season's bakers and the caption, "Steve threw a party for the other bakers..."

The picture then changes to one of he and Eddie, arms wrapped around each other. This caption says: "...at the home he shares with his boyfriend Eddie."

That night, in bed, Steve says, "I'm really glad Robin and the kids made me go on the show. But do you think it's bad that the thing I'm happiest about, way more than winning, is that I met you?"

Eddie places a slow circle of kisses in the dip of Steve's lower back. "Sweetheart, I'd be disappointed if you said anything else. Now, hush, I have a baking champion to congratulate."

[peachie-bumblebee]

FNAF SECURITY BREACH NSFW HEADCANONS

MAIN 4

MINORS DNI

getting back to my ROOTS with this one!! hope my community is still out there- the dlc has brought back my love for the game :) i haven’t posted SB content in a LONG time so a reminder- I ONLY WRITE FOR CHARACTERS WHO PASS THE JACK HARKNESS TEST. They are OF AGE OR ABOVE, have HUMAN OR ABOVE INTELLIGENCE, and can VERBALLY GIVE INFORMED CONSENT. The SB animatronics are canonically sentient. None of the past ones are. okay- back to the content :D

CW: ONE PREGNANCY MENTION, KINK RELATED T0YS, SEMI-PUBLIC MENTIONS, DACRIPHILIA

GLAMROCK FREDDY

lord have mercy…

he’s the most virgin coded out of all of them. i’m sorry.

but do I think he’s a TOTAL virgin? no.

there are FREAKS out there (me writing this and y’all reading this-) who would 1000% show up to the pizzaplex just tryna get a piece of the fazballs

SORRY

he’s the type to silently get off in his dressing room and then get all embarrassed about it like there’s someone there to judge him

he’s an actual sweetheart in the sheets. he’s so so nice about everything. as we go down the list this DECREASES.

don’t push him too fucking hard tho. if you’re one of the ones who read my old fic Competition, you remember.

his fingers vibrate.

and so does that dick.

he’d turn it on inside of you and listen to you gasp before putting a hand gently over your mouth and hushing you.

he seems a lot like a gasper. maybe the occasional curse word coming out, but mostly praises of how good it feels.

i know he is a messy cummer. i’m right and that’s final.

he’d be absolutely humiliated after the fact and go get a wet washcloth asap, but it’s a very shocking amount anyway.

pregnancy isn’t a concern, but he’s still wary about cumming inside for some reason. he’s the type to make sure it’s okay like 3 times before he does it.

okay i lowkey think he’d be into getting handcuffed. i don’t know what handcuffs could genuinely hold him, but if you brought them out he’d be (figuratively) SWEATING

i think his eyes roll back when he cums. and i’m correct. eat me.

he’s the lead member but he’s humble about it… except a few times in bed. then he lets it go to his head(s). just a bit. ;)

if he was in a relationship he’d have a thing about his partner dressed in his merch

switch! but the most vanilla out of everyone- but remember, not completely.

…he’d eat his cum out of you.

no he is NOT gonna call you superstar during sex leave me ALONEEE

GLAMROCK CHICA

my biggest hc for her will and will always be that she has a MASSIVE toy collection. she is a toy girl. do i know how she gets them? not exactly.

but I DO know that they’re all pink and white and sparkly!

that doesn’t mean it’s all vanilla toys though (respect to the vanilla community but it is not me :) )

she does own a hot pink flogger and she WILL happily use it on a groupie or her partner.

she’s such a tease. she’s such a fucking tease jsghskbnsjh

doesn’t matter if she’s domming or subbing (60/40 ratio)

she’s a TEASE

and she giggles during sex

her whole bubbly pink happy girl thing doesn’t stop

she’ll put you in a bubblegum pink sex swing and use a big ass vibrator on you while giggling and telling you how cute you look

i know she likes pulling on nipples I KNOW SHE DOES

for those who used to ask- no, she can’t give head with her beak. and she’s not taking it off. sun/moon can’t give sloppy either BUT THEY MAKE IT WORK!

AND SHE DOES TOO!

she can fuck up the guitar with her fingers, what else do you think they can do?

she’s the type to pull you into a side room, hush you, finger fuck you, then send you on your way with a hug

i know for a FACT SHE WEARS A STRAP!

yes it IS glitter. it is also 9 inches.

and if you want more, she has more ways to give you that.

she’s also the type to get you front row tickets and put a remote control vibe in you so she can watch you squirm right in front of her.

she’s also a praiser, but there’s a lot of false sympathy in there too.

food aftercare. she wants to eat 3 pizzas with you. food is her love language

ROXANNE WOLF

YOU BETTER BARK LIKE YOU WANT IT!

she’s a dom. she just is.

god I miss that fic I wrote.

she’s so fucking cocky in bed. it’d be insufferable if she wasn’t so hot and so good at sex.

if who she’s fucking is AFAB she’s EATING IT!!!! YOU CAN BET ON IT THAT SHE DOES MUNCH!

if they’re AMAB then you can expect her to lean them back on her chest and give them the most intense handjob of their life.

in general, the animatronics are stronger than people, so when they’re rough they’re still not going at their hardest. that would actually just kill you.

she’s a show-off. she’ll leave marks in very noticeable places on purpose so that everyone knows that you’re getting fucked by THE Roxanne Wolf

she’s a hair puller. I just know she likes to wrap her claws up in it and pull.

don’t fucking pull hers though, she doesn’t like that shit.

yeah her tail wags when you eat her out, what about it? don’t point that shit out, it’s embarrassing to her.

she curses so much during sex.

the strap is purple and THICK. if you want more then she’ll just hit up Chica for a new one. Chica is more than happy to help. and more than happy to watch.

she’s only the jealous type if its some rando loser. THEN she’ll fuck the living shit out of you while telling you how she’s the best and making you repeat it back to her.

if it’s Monty or Chica? If you’d be into it too, then yeah, she’ll share.

…Freddy is more of a hard sell, but it’s not a hard no.

it’s more of a “Yeah yeah yeah but why do you wanna fuck the dumbass bear? Why him? Monty’s got a bigger one, I’ll tell you that.”

yeah but roxy baby his doesn’t vibrate

she comes off a winning high after a particularly close race, she’s going to go feral on you

with those eyes of hers, she can find you wherever you go. so if she’s randomly in the mood and her partner is there, even halfway across the pizzaplex, she’s on her way to pull you into her room and take some “private time.”

MONTGOMERY GATOR

hhhhhhooOOOHHH BOY

y’all remember the start of SB where he’s fucking up his room?

prepare to be destroyed HSGDHJSGBDNH

degrades. degrades the fuck out of you. it’s a toss up between Roxy and Monty who’s the more cocky, but he’s certainly meaner.

LONG ASS DICK. IT’S HUGE WITH ALL SORTS OF BUMPS AND RIDGES AND SHIT.

head pusher IF you’re okay with it. consent is mandatory.

he’d grab all his partner’s hair if they had any to grab, even just an INCH and go ham.

his long ass dick matches his long fucking tongue.

loves giving lethal backshots LOOOOOOOORD HAAAAAAAAVVVEEEE MEEERCYYYYYY

he’s not only breaking the bed, it’s straight up sawdust. idk how his partners live but they certainly live happily after.

as cocky as he is, he’s not exactly a selfish lover by any means. yeah, he’ll edge you, but he also likes to get his partner real sloppy if you catch my drift.

he aims to make you cry from pleasure. it’s straight up his goal.

i just know he knows EXACTLY where all the right spots are. you don’t even gotta tell him, inside or outside, no matter personal preference, he can always pinpoint his partner’s sweet spots

and then he proceeds to abuse the fuck out of that knowledge

he gets so jealous over Freddy, it’s insane

he sees his partner in his merch, he’s ripping it to shreds.

Roxy is less of a threat. That can be more of a collaborative effort.

he honestly doesn’t know how much of a freak in the sheets Chica is. If he had a threesome with her and she whipped out her chest of fun he’d be like “DAMN BITCH WHERE’D YOU GET ALL THOSE” and she’d be like “^-^ wanna see my buttplug collection? :>” LMFAOOO

GROANER. he GROANS LIKE CRAZY

also a bit of a growl but NOT in the cringe tiktok way don’t worry

HOPE YALL ENJOYED!!! I really hope I can start to find my old community with this :)

[writerswall26]

My Sweet Cairo (Part 2)

Synopsis: The Ravens' Soccer team Captain fell in love for Cairo Sweet

Warning: Slight cursing, Student-Teacher relations. Other than that, none that I know of (but feel free to correct me)

Words: 1.7k

Masterlist | Previous Part | Next Part

A/N: Thank you for the warm welcome. But I think confusion would start here before the good climax. Happy Reading!

"Before we start our lesson, we want to congratulate our soccer team’s captain for winning us the semi finals last saturday night." Mr. Miller told the class where they cheered and whistled. Y/N smiling humbly while she saw Cairo clapping with them, a warm smile on her face.

"Told yah we'll bring home the championship this year." Y/N told Mr. Miller who laughed.

"I do hope so. Alright, let's continue!" He clapped and proceeded with their class.

Despite Cairo just sitting prettily in the front row, Y/N did not mind her as she was so engrossed with their lesson.

After their class, Y/N waited for Cairo outside of class patiently and she was out in minutes with Winnie.

"What do you want now, superstar?" Winnie asked in playful annoyance, rolling her eyes.

Y/N rolled her eyes as well. "I'm not here for you, miss creepy girl. I'm here for her." Y/N said, turning to Cairo with a sweet smile.

"To what do I owe you, superstar?" Cairo teased which made Y/N groan as she leaned her head back.

"See what you did there?" She turned to Winnie who raised her hands in surrender which Cairo giggled.

"What is it?" Cairo finally asked, curiously.

"Would you want to have dinner with me? Saturday night?" Y/N asked, fidgeting on the strap of her duffel bag.

"Are you asking me on a date?" The smile on Cairo's face never left.

Y/N shrugged. "If you want to call it that, I'm not complaining." She smiled.

Winnie and Cairo gave each other a look before the shorter girl turned to her.

"I'd take you up on it, but I got something going on saturday, I'm sorry." And that, my friend, hurts like a fucking bitch.

Y/N nodded, her face faltering at the rejection. But she still managed to smile and nodded.

"I see. It's okay." She said, starting to walk back slowly. "I'll see you around, then."

She was not feeling herself after that but she saw this coming as well. It's reaching to say that Cairo's gonna accept immediately after just a small interaction and one game.

"What's with the long face, sweetheart?" Jasmine asked as soon as she sat down in their physics class.

Y/N gave her a small smile as she shook her head, getting the rejection out of her head. "Nothing, just feeling a little under the weather." She said and said nothing more.

She was bummed out until saturday and her mother noticed it.

"What's wrong, darling? You've been looking a little down lately." Y/M/N, her mum, said while putting the lasagna on the table.

Y/N smiled at her mum. "Nothing. Just tired." She said before she stood up.

"Where are you going? We're gonna have lunch soon." Her mother called her but she just continued walking.

"I'm gonna take a breather. Don't wait up. Love you." She said before she took her bike and went for a small ride.

She was feeling the breeze and all that when the rain started pouring.

"Goodness gracious!" She muttered as she went faster to find a place to shelter on. And she did, on a big tree in front of Vanderbilt. She was drying herself up when her gaze fell on two particular people on the porch of the place.

"What the fuck?" She muttered to herself, it's Cairo and Mr. Miller, close to each other, smoking.

Her mind was running a thousand times over. What the fuck is Mr. Miller doing with Cairo outside of class? But then again, both of them are writers, it's a poetry place. She stared for a long time, watching and waiting and praying for nothing to happen. And when nothing did, she let out a small sigh.

She shook her head to get back to her senses before she rode her bike again. An anger about to blow inside her and the more she stays, the more it bubbles. She can't have that. So, she rode, fast on the rough wet road.

"Fuck!" She screamed over and over and over again until her tires bumped into something, causing her to lose her balance and be thrown off her bike a couple of feet away, her body slamming on the rough road causing a few nasty scratches in her left arm and a bump on her head.

She laid there, breathing heavily as she tried to feel her body, her legs, her arms. Thankfully, she's still functioning. So she pushed herself up, groaning as she limped to her bike, she checked on it first and was thankful that it was not wrecked. She sighed before she got on her bike and pushed through despite her entire body aching from the impact.

When she got home, her mum immediately rushed to her, checking her up from head to toe before leading her to the living room couch to sit.

"What happened to you, darling?" Her mum asked worriedly as she got a baskin of hot water and her medical kit.

"Didn't see a rock on the way." She answered quietly as her mother started tending to her.

"Was it pouring hard? You should've taken shelter and waited for it to stop." Her mum said softly while cleaning her scratches on her arm and face.

The two of them were silent while her mum's patching her up. After she was done, she kissed Y/N's forehead and fixed the things she used.

"Go get changed before we have our dinner." Y/M/N said, she did what she was asked to.

Y/N walked up to her room, threw her clothes in the laundry basket and changed. The image in her head was not leaving but she soon blocked it out when her mother called her for dinner.

"The finals is a week away. You should take care of your body if you want to win." Y/M/N told her gently while giving her a portion of her food.

Y/N smiled softly. "I know. I was being reckless, I'm sorry I made you worry."

Y/M/N smiled, patting her hand gently before they started their dinner together.

"Will you be able to watch?" Y/N asked in the middle of their dinner.

Y/M/N grinned beautifully. "Of course. I've already told the hospital I'm taking a leave to watch my wonderful daughter crush the opposing team and win that championship cup!"

Y/N chuckled at her mum's enthusiasm. "That's over reaching, mother." She says but her mum shook her head.

"This is your final game before university and you will, for sure, by no means, win the cup. And I'm so so proud of you."

Y/N's heart warmed at her mother's proud smile. She's been talking non-stop about this championship and how it's gonna look on her university portfolio, so her mother wanted her to do her best to win this championship this season.

On monday when she got to her English class, worried looks were thrown her way when they saw her wounds and the scratch on her face. Even Winnie did not give her the usual flirty attitude she usually gives whenever she sat down beside her.

"What happened to you?" Winnie asked worriedly, checking her up.

Y/N shrugged. "Just some scratches here and there."

"You have an entire bandage on your arm, Y/N. Not to mention, that thing on your face. That's not some scratch." Winnie said, concern laced in her voice.

Y/N gave her a smirk. "You worried now, sweetheart?" She tried but Winnie did not smile one bit.

Y/N sighed and faced her to show her the bandage. "Look, I fell off my bike, okay? But I'm perfectly fine now. My mum made sure of that the entire weekend." She assured the girl.

Winnie stayed quiet for a moment before she nodded. "Sure you're okay though? No broken bones or something?"

Y/N chuckled. Winnie can be adorable when she wants to.

"I'm perfectly fine. No broken bones or something." She assured Winnie who nodded with a smile.

Their class starts with Mr. Miller introducing another quote from a book and they're to make their own interpretation of it and present it in their next class.

After their class, Y/N immediately fixed her things hoping to run away from a certain brunette girl which she failed miserably as she was already in front of Y/N before the taller girl even had the chance to step out.

"What happened to you?" Cairo asked, her voice gentle and worried.

Usually, Y/N would smile and be all giddy but after what she saw last saturday, it's like all the happiness in the world had vanished.

"I fell off my bike. Excuse me." Y/N said, pushing past Cairo who followed her outside.

"Are you really going to be like this?" She heard Cairo saying from behind her.

Y/N groaned, letting her head fall back before she turned to look at the smaller girl. Winnie's even worried while watching.

"Like what, Cairo?" She asked, annoyance evident in her voice.

"This." Cairo said, pointing a hand at her as she walks in front of Y/N. "Are you really going to ignore me? What? Because I said no to you last saturday?"

Y/N's ears tinged at what was being accused of her. She wanted to burst out and say she saw her and Mr. Miller at Vanderbilt together, close and inappropriate. But she refrained herself, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves down.

"I'm not avoiding you. I have physics. And why do I care if you're out somewhere with God knows who? I'm not expecting you to say yes just because we had a small interaction and you watched one of my games. I'm not that shallow." Y/N's voice was restrained, her face red from trying to calm down.

Cairo was shocked to see this. She was not expecting Y/N to have a side like this. The few times she's seen this girl, she's always smiling and laughing. Never this angry.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? Let me make it up to you. Come by to my place, let's have dinner tonight." Cairo said, holding a hand to Y/N's chest and caressing it gently. Her big brown eyes are soft and apologetic.

Y/N stared at her for a moment before she sighed, bowing her head to calm before she gave out a small smile.

"Forget it." Y/N said as she stepped back, letting Cairo's hand fall on her side with a pained look.

"Finals on Saturday night, Winnie. Hope to see you there." Y/N said before she walked back and went to her physics class, not bothering to throw Cairo another glance.

[goldfades]

𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐌𝐄 ───── LAMELO BALL

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine it's crucial that we stand in solidarity with those who need our support. right now, the people of palestine are facing unimaginable hardship, and it's up to all of us to do what we can to help. whether it's raising awareness, donating to relief organizations, or supporting calls for justice and peace, every action counts. we can amplify their voices, shed light on their struggles, and work towards a future where every individual can live with dignity and freedom. your support can make a difference! FREE PALESTINE!

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 5.7k (i got a bit carried away per usual)

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | lamelo spots you courtside, turning in the game of his life just to impress you. what starts as playful banter at an afterparty quickly turns into a connection that neither of you can ignore.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | lamelo being COCKY AF, ummmmm... mentions of drinking, banter, allusions to lamelo being a hohohoho, just very banter-teasing heavy

⟢ ┈ 𝐞𝐯'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | i'm feeding the secret lamelo ball fangirls out there cause i see you and i fw you a lot cause ur just liek me, i hope yall enjoy !!!

The buzz of the Spectrum Center feels electric tonight. Maybe it’s the high stakes of the game, or maybe it’s just the way Lilah’s energy rubs off on you—effortless and magnetic, like she was born to thrive under these arena lights. You sit beside her, court-side, her gold bracelets jingling softly as she waves to someone across the court. Her husband, Miles is warming up, all easy confidence and sharp focus. He catches Lilah’s eye, grins, and points toward the two of you, a silent “this one’s for you.”

Lilah leans in, her voice just audible above the noise. “Miles is going to kill it tonight. He always does when I’m here.” She nudges you playfully. “You’re my lucky charm, though, so don’t go thinking you’re off the hook.”

You laugh, shifting in your seat as the players take their positions. Basketball’s never been your scene, but when Lilah called and begged you to come as her plus-one, you couldn’t say no. Something about her insistence—“You need to get out more!”—made it impossible to refuse. And now, as the lights dim and the announcer’s voice booms through the arena, you’re glad you came. The energy is infectious, the atmosphere electric.

Then, your attention shifts.

Number one, LaMelo Ball, steps onto the court. He’s hard to miss—tall, sharp-cut features, and an aura that makes it seem like he knows everyone’s watching him. Which, let’s be honest, they probably are. He moves with a kind of casual arrogance, his presence larger than life even among his teammates. You’ve heard his name a dozen times, always tied to words like prodigy or superstar, but seeing him in person is something else entirely.

And then it happens.

As if sensing your gaze, he glances your way. It’s quick, just a flicker, but enough for his eyes to find yours. Time slows—or maybe it’s just your imagination—because for a moment, it feels like he’s staring straight through the noise and chaos of the arena, right at you. There’s something in his expression—curiosity, intrigue—that makes your breath hitch.

He smirks, the corner of his mouth lifting in a way that’s almost imperceptible, then turns his attention back to the court. But you notice the difference immediately. His movements become sharper, his energy more focused. Every pass, every shot, every step is precise, like he’s putting on a show and you’re the intended audience.

Lilah nudges you again. “I think LaMelo just checked you out.”

You laugh it off, but your pulse betrays you, thudding a little too hard against your ribs. You’re overthinking it, you tell yourself. It’s just a coincidence, an accident.

On the court, LaMelo thrives in the rhythm of the game. He’s always been good at this—reading plays, threading passes, finding space where none should exist. But tonight, something feels different. There’s a spark under his skin, a hum that makes every move sharper, every decision quicker. He knows exactly why.

Between plays, he glances toward the courtside seats again, where you’re sitting with Lilah Bridges. He doesn’t even know your name, but he can’t stop looking. There’s something about the way you’re perched there, so effortlessly composed, your laugh soft but luminous whenever Lilah says something funny. The arena lights hit your face just right, making you impossible to miss, even with the chaos of the game surrounding him.

“Yo, Melo,” Miles mutters during a timeout, smirking as he catches LaMelo glancing toward the sideline. “You good? You’ve been zoned in all night.”

LaMelo grabs a water bottle and takes a quick sip, playing it cool. “I’m always locked in.”

Miles doesn’t let up, chuckling as he leans closer. “Nah, not like this. You’ve been balling like you got something to prove. Who’s got you locked in like that?” He follows LaMelo’s line of sight, and when his gaze lands on you, his grin widens. “Ahhh, I see. You’re been peepin’ Lilah’s friend.”

LaMelo doesn’t confirm or deny it, but the way he smirks back says enough. “Who is she?” he asks, keeping his voice low, casual.

Miles shrugs, wiping his face with a towel. “That’s Lilah’s girl. She’s cool, real chill. Don’t know if she’s your type, though.”

LaMelo raises an eyebrow, his confidence peeking through. “What makes you think she’s not my type?”

Miles laughs, shaking his head. “Man, I’m just saying. She doesn’t seem like the type to get caught up in all... this.” He gestures vaguely to the court, the arena, the larger-than-life spectacle that comes with being LaMelo Ball.

LaMelo doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he lets his eyes drift back to you, the corner of his mouth twitching upward when he catches you clapping at something Lilah says. There’s something about you that feels... different. It’s not just the way you look, though that’s definitely a big part of it. It’s the way you carry yourself, like you’re perfectly content to stay in the background, even though the spotlight would suit you just fine.

“She doesn’t have to get caught up in all this,” he finally says, dribbling the ball idly as the timeout winds down. “I just wanna know her name.”

Miles shakes his head, chuckling. “Good luck with that, man. Lilah’s probably gonna run interference if she thinks you’re trying to pull something.”

LaMelo grins, his confidence unwavering. “Guess I’ll just have to ask her myself.”

When the whistle blows and the game resumes, he’s locked in again—but this time, it’s with a purpose. He’s not just playing for the win. He’s playing to make sure he earns your attention, the same way you’ve unknowingly captured his.

The ball is in his hands again, and LaMelo moves like the court is his stage. Each dribble echoes, every pass and shot calculated to perfection. He’s already good at this—great, even—but tonight, he’s playing like he’s got something to prove. To himself? Maybe. To you? Definitely.

He steals a glance toward the sideline during a lull in the game. You’re still there, leaning slightly toward Lilah as the two of you talk. Whatever she just said has you laughing, your head tilted back, a hand coming up to cover your mouth as if to stifle the sound. It’s unguarded, genuine. LaMelo feels his focus falter for half a second, his gaze lingering just a little too long.

“Yo, stay with me!” His teammate barks as he claps his hands, trying to pull LaMelo’s attention back to the game.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” LaMelo says, waving him off. And he is good—better than good, actually. He’s in a rhythm now, and the team is feeding off his energy. Every basket he scores gets the crowd louder, and every assist he dishes out has the bench on their feet.

But you’re still there, just at the edge of his vision, a quiet distraction that’s becoming harder to ignore.

By halftime, the Hornets are up by ten, and the arena is buzzing with excitement. LaMelo plops down on the bench, catching his breath. Sweat drips from his hairline, and he swipes at it with a towel. As the coaches huddle the team together, his thoughts drift back to you.

Miles is the first to notice. Again.

“You ain’t slick, bro,” Miles says, shaking his head with a grin as he grabs a Gatorade. “I saw you peeking at her all through the second quarter.”

LaMelo scoffs, though he doesn’t bother denying it. “I wasn’t peeking. I was glancing. Big difference.”

Miles laughs, the sound low and knowing. “Whatever you gotta tell yourself. I’m just saying—don’t let Coach catch you getting distracted out here.”

“I’m not distracted,” LaMelo shoots back, leaning forward and lacing his fingers together. His smirk is quick, confident. “I’m locked in. You see the score?”

“Yeah, yeah, we see it,” Miles says, rolling his eyes. “But don’t think I didn’t catch you asking about her earlier. You really gonna make a move on Lilah’s friend?”

“Why not?” LaMelo’s answer is immediate, like he’s already decided.

Miles shakes his head, taking another sip of his drink. “She doesn’t look like the type to fall for all that charm you’re so proud of.”

LaMelo just grins, leaning back against the bench as the coaches wrap up their halftime pep talk. “Good. That’s the fun part.”

The game resumes, and LaMelo’s energy is sharper than ever. The crowd roars with every shot he makes, every assist he dishes. He’s putting on a clinic, and it’s impossible not to notice. The announcers are hyped, the fans are on their feet, and even his teammates are feeding off his fire.

And yet, every time he scores, his eyes flicker back to you.

It’s subtle—so quick that most people wouldn’t catch it—but Miles does. And so does Lilah, apparently. By the fourth quarter, she’s leaning over to whisper something to you, a sly smile on her face. You glance toward the court briefly, and for a split second, your eyes meet LaMelo’s again.

That’s when he knows.

The final buzzer sounds, and the Hornets walk off the court victorious. The energy in the arena is electric, fans cheering as the players exchange high-fives and congratulations. But LaMelo’s already thinking about the afterparty.

As he heads to the locker room, he catches up with Miles. “So, what’s the move tonight?”

Miles raises an eyebrow. “Why you asking me? You don’t usually roll through these things like that.”

LaMelo shrugs, keeping his tone casual. “Just curious. Lilah’s coming, right?”

“Yeah,” Miles says slowly, catching on. “And I’m guessing her friend will be there too?”

LaMelo doesn’t answer, but the look on his face says it all.

Miles chuckles, shaking his head as they head down the tunnel. “Man, you’re bold. Good luck with that one. She’s way out of your league.”

LaMelo smirks, the challenge lighting a spark in his chest. “No such thing as out of my league.”

As he steps into the locker room, his mind is already racing. He doesn’t know much about you yet—just the way you look when you laugh and the fact that you’ve already got him playing like he’s got something to prove.

But he’s determined to find out more.

The afterparty is in full swing by the time you and Lilah walk in, the pulsing bass of the music vibrating through the floor as laughter and conversation fill the space. It’s one of those places that feels effortlessly cool—dim lights, plush leather seating, and enough space for the players to spread out without it feeling cramped. You weren’t planning to have too much fun tonight, but the energy in the room is infectious.

Lilah tugs you along toward the bar, her arm looped through yours. “Okay, first rule of these parties,” she says, grinning as she leans in close, “always let me order your first drink. Miles swears I have good luck when it comes to the bartenders.”

You laugh, watching as she flags someone down with a wave and effortlessly orders for both of you. A minute later, a glass of something bright and fizzy is pressed into your hand. You take a sip, pleasantly surprised by how smooth it is, the citrusy kick warming you from the inside.

“Good, right?” Lilah asks, already sipping hers.

You nod, letting the drink loosen you up as you glance around the room. The players are scattered across the space, some tucked into booths with their significant others, others leaning against the bar, laughing and clinking glasses. It’s easy to spot LaMelo. He’s tall, for one thing, but it’s more than that. He has this magnetism about him, like the energy of the room shifts wherever he goes.

And right now, his attention is on you.

You notice it immediately—the way his eyes seem to find you no matter where you stand. He’s subtle about it, leaning casually against the bar as he talks to one of his teammates, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. But every so often, his gaze flickers in your direction, lingering just a beat too long before returning to his conversation.

At first, you try to brush it off. He’s probably like this with everyone, you tell yourself. Smooth, confident, the kind of guy who knows the effect he has on people. But the longer it goes on, the harder it is to ignore. Each glance feels deliberate, like he’s testing the waters, waiting to see how you’ll react.

And you can’t help it—you start to react.

You catch yourself standing a little straighter, your laugh a little more unguarded, the occasional glance in his direction just to see if he’s still looking. He always is. It’s a game, one that you didn’t realize you’d started playing, but now that you’re in it, you can’t seem to stop.

“Okay, spill,” Lilah says suddenly, pulling you out of your thoughts. She’s leaning against the bar beside you, her lips curled into a knowing smile.

“Spill what?” you ask, trying to sound casual as you take another sip of your drink.

She tilts her head toward LaMelo, who’s still standing across the room, his attention now fully on you. “Don’t play dumb. I saw the way you two were eyeing each other. What’s the deal?”

“There’s no deal,” you say quickly, but the heat rising to your cheeks betrays you.

“Uh-huh.” Lilah doesn’t look convinced. “He’s been staring at you all night, and don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you keep looking back.”

“I’m not—” you start to protest, but she cuts you off with a laugh.

“Relax,” she says, her tone playful. “I’m not judging. I mean, it’s LaMelo. He’s... well, you’ve seen him. But I’m just saying, if you’re into it, I’d say the interest is mutual.”

You glance back toward him, and sure enough, his eyes meet yours. This time, he doesn’t look away. Instead, he raises his glass slightly in a silent toast, his smirk deepening when you feel yourself falter under his gaze. There’s something disarming about the way he looks at you—confident but not cocky, curious but not overbearing.

“See?” Lilah teases, nudging you with her elbow. “I told you.”

You shake your head, laughing softly as you turn your attention back to her. “I’m just here to have a good time, Lilah. That’s all.”

“And you should,” she says, her smile widening. “But just so you know, if you’re not careful, he’s going to be the highlight of your night.”

You don’t respond, but the way your pulse quickens at her words tells you she might be right.

The party is in full swing now, the music loud enough to vibrate through the soles of your heels, and the energy in the room has shifted into something more electric. A few drinks in, you’re feeling looser, lighter. Lilah’s infectious laughter and Miles’s constant teasing have you at ease, your initial hesitations about the night fading into the background.

You’re seated now, perched on one of the low leather couches with Lilah on one side and Miles on the other, their banter flying back and forth like a friendly game of verbal ping-pong. You chime in every now and then, mostly to laugh or roll your eyes at one of Miles’s exaggerated stories about life on the road with the team.

“Tell me I’m lying,” Miles says, leaning back with a triumphant grin after his latest tale.

“You’re lying,” Lilah shoots back immediately, taking a sip of her drink.

You laugh, shaking your head as you reach for your own glass. The world around you feels pleasantly fuzzy, the edges softened by the buzz in your veins.

“Y’all don’t believe anything I say,” Miles grumbles, though his tone is more amused than annoyed.

“We believe the parts that make sense,” you counter, flashing him a teasing smile.

“Oh, she’s got jokes now,” Miles says, nudging you with his elbow. “Lilah, where’d you find her? She’s got a little spice.”

Lilah grins, leaning toward you conspiratorially. “You should see her when she’s really on a roll. She’ll have you questioning your whole life.”

You laugh again, the sound light and unguarded. It’s been a while since you’ve felt this carefree, and you let yourself sink into it, the atmosphere wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

But then, out of the corner of your eye, you see him.

LaMelo.

He’s making his way across the room, his long strides purposeful but not rushed. He’s dressed casually—ripped jeans, a designer jacket, and a chain that catches the light just right—but there’s something about the way he carries himself that makes him impossible to ignore.

“Yo, Miles,” LaMelo calls out as he approaches, his voice cutting through the hum of the party.

Miles looks up, grinning as he leans back against the couch. “What’s good, Melo?”

LaMelo stops in front of the group, his hands tucked into his pockets as he nods toward Miles. “Just making my rounds. What’re you over here talking about?”

“Oh, you know, just telling these ladies about how I carried you last season,” Miles says, his grin widening.

LaMelo rolls his eyes, his smile lazy and amused. “Yeah, sure. That’s why your stats were looking real pedestrian, huh?”

Lilah laughs, nudging Miles. “Don’t let him come over here and do you like that.”

“I’m gonna let him have it,” Miles says with a wave of his hand. “Only because I’m in a good mood.”

LaMelo chuckles, his gaze sliding over to you for the first time. His smile softens, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

“And who’s this?” he asks, his voice dropping just slightly, the playful lilt in his tone unmistakable.

Lilah jumps in before you can answer, her grin smug. “This is my girl. Be nice, Melo.”

LaMelo raises his hands in mock surrender, his eyes still on you. “I’m always nice.”

You can’t help but smile, the warmth of his attention settling over you like a spotlight. “I’m [Your Name],” you say, your voice steady despite the way your pulse has quickened.

“LaMelo,” he says, extending a hand toward you. His fingers are warm when they close around yours, his grip firm but not overpowering.

“I know,” you say, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

His smile deepens, a flash of teeth that somehow feels both charming and dangerous. “You know, huh? Should I be flattered or nervous?”

“Depends,” you reply, your lips curving into a sly smile. “Do you usually get nervous when someone knows who you are?”

Miles lets out a low whistle, shaking his head as he looks between the two of you. “Oh, this is about to be good.”

LaMelo chuckles, leaning slightly closer, though he’s careful not to invade your space. “I don’t get nervous,” he says, his tone easy but confident. “But I gotta admit, you got me curious now.”

“Curious about what?” you ask, tilting your head slightly.

“About you,” he says simply. “Lilah’s been holding out on me.”

“Oh, don’t drag me into this,” Lilah says, laughing as she raises her hands. “You can ask her whatever you want. I’m staying out of it.”

The conversation flows easily after that, his questions playful but sincere, your answers just teasing enough to keep him on his toes. The world around you fades, the music and the chatter of the party becoming a distant hum as you go back and forth.

Every now and then, you catch Lilah watching you, a small, knowing smile on her face. You can feel the heat of LaMelo’s gaze every time he looks at you, and you’re not sure if it’s the drinks or the chemistry between you, but you find yourself leaning into it, letting the moment stretch and unfold in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

And when he laughs—low and genuine—you realize you don’t mind it at all.

As the conversation flows, Lilah gives you a sly smile and stands, tugging on Miles’s arm. “Come on, babe, let’s grab another round,” she says, her tone overly casual.

Miles glances at her, then at you and LaMelo, and smirks knowingly. “Oh, I see how it is. Melo’s about to show off his ‘game,’ huh?”

“Go,” Lilah says, rolling her eyes and shoving his shoulder lightly. She looks at you one last time, her expression smug. “Have fun, girl.”

You watch them disappear into the crowd, your laugh trailing after them, but the moment they’re gone, you feel the shift in the air. It’s subtle, like the space between you and LaMelo suddenly carries a different weight.

“Guess it’s just us now,” LaMelo says, leaning back against the couch with an easy confidence.

“Looks like it,” you reply, glancing at him over the rim of your glass.

“So,” he starts, stretching the word out as his eyes flicker over you with a mix of curiosity and amusement, “how long you been friends with Lilah?”

You set your glass down on the low table in front of you and cross your legs, meeting his gaze head-on. “Long enough to know she’s trouble.”

He chuckles, the sound low and warm. “Yeah, Miles says the same thing, but I think they balance each other out.”

“Definitely,” you agree, your lips curving into a small smile. “She keeps him in check, though. You should’ve seen her last week when he left his sneakers in the living room. I thought she was going to throw them out the window.”

LaMelo laughs, shaking his head. “Miles? Yeah, that sounds about right. Dude’s messy as hell. He leaves his stuff everywhere in the locker room too.”

You raise an eyebrow, tilting your head slightly. “And you’re not messy?”

He smirks, leaning forward a bit. “I didn’t say that. But I’m smarter about it. I know when to clean up.”

“Oh, so you’re strategic about your messiness,” you tease, the corner of your mouth twitching upward.

“Exactly,” he says, his grin widening. “You get it.”

There’s a pause, not awkward but charged, the kind of silence that feels more like a question waiting to be answered. His eyes stay locked on yours, the intensity of his gaze softened by the hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“You’re not what I expected,” he says finally, his tone thoughtful.

You blink, surprised. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs, leaning back again, his arms draped casually along the top of the couch. “I don’t know. Most people at these parties, they’re either trying too hard to impress or acting like they don’t care at all. But you… you’re different.”

“Different how?” you ask, narrowing your eyes slightly.

He tilts his head, studying you like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. “You’re real. Like, you’re here, but you’re not trying to be seen, you know? And you’re funny. Most people wouldn’t call me out for being messy two minutes into a conversation.”

You laugh, feeling a flush of warmth creep up your neck. “Well, maybe you’re just easy to tease.”

“Oh, I am?” he asks, his eyebrows lifting in mock surprise.

“Definitely,” you say, your tone playful. “You’ve got that vibe.”

“What vibe?”

“The kind that says you’re used to getting your way, so you don’t know what to do when someone gives you a hard time.”

He lets out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “Damn, you don’t hold back, huh?”

“Not really,” you admit, shrugging. “But you don’t seem to mind.”

“I don’t,” he says, his voice softening just enough to make your stomach flip. “I like it.”

For a moment, the world around you seems to fade, the noise of the party dulling to a distant hum. He’s leaning slightly closer now, his elbows resting on his knees as he looks at you like you’re the most interesting thing in the room. And maybe it’s the drinks or the way his smile feels like a secret he’s letting you in on, but you find yourself leaning in too, just enough to match his energy.

“What about you?” he asks suddenly, breaking the silence.

“What about me?”

“Why are you here tonight?”

You laugh softly, gesturing toward the general chaos of the party. “Lilah dragged me, obviously.”

“Obviously,” he echoes, his smile turning teasing. “But you’re staying. That means something.”

“Maybe I just like good company,” you counter, raising an eyebrow.

“And am I good company?” he asks, his tone dipping just enough to make your pulse quicken.

You meet his gaze, holding it for a beat longer than you probably should. “You’re okay,” you say finally, your lips curving into a teasing smile.

“Just okay?” he asks, feigning offense as he presses a hand to his chest. “Damn, I thought I was doing better than that.”

“You could be,” you reply, leaning back and crossing your arms. “Guess you’ll have to step up your game.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Alright, I see how it is. You’re a challenge.”

“Is that a... bad thing?”

“Not at all,” he says, his grin softening into something more genuine. “I like a challenge.”

And just like that, the banter shifts into something deeper, the playful teasing giving way to a quieter connection. You can feel it in the way he looks at you, like he’s trying to memorize every detail, and in the way your own walls start to lower, letting him in just a little more than you expected.

And for the first time that night, you wonder if Lilah was right. Maybe this party was worth it after all.

The night deepens, the party’s energy settling into a comfortable rhythm as conversations grow louder and laughter fills the spaces between songs. The buzz of a few drinks has made everything feel lighter, easier, and you find yourself more at ease than you’ve been in a while.

LaMelo is right there with you, his laughter rich and unrestrained, his eyes lighting up every time you say something witty. You’ve lost track of time somewhere between his playful teasing and the stories you’ve been swapping, your banter feeling less like a first meeting and more like reconnecting with someone you’ve known forever.

“You fell off a jet ski because... you weren’t paying attention?” you say, your laughter bubbling over as he shakes his head, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips.

“I wasn’t paying attention because my brother was trying to race me!” he defends, leaning forward as if his explanation will make it sound less ridiculous.

“And how’d that work out for you?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

He laughs, shrugging. “It didn’t. Clearly.”

You shake your head, the grin on your face refusing to fade. “You’re a mess, you know that?”

“I’ve been told,” he says, his gaze steady on yours. There’s something in his tone, in the way he looks at you right then, that sends a small thrill through you.

As the conversation flows, the space between you feels smaller, even though neither of you has moved. The music thumps steadily in the background, but it’s like you’ve created your own bubble, the party fading into a distant hum.

At some point, Lilah and Miles return to your little corner, Lilah plopping down next to you with an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, I’m officially tired,” she announces, though the glint in her eye suggests she’s anything but.

“You’re always tired,” Miles teases, slinging an arm around her shoulders.

“Don’t start,” she warns, though her smile softens the words. Her gaze flickers between you and LaMelo, and you can see the gears turning in her head.

“What?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at her suspicious expression.

“Nothing,” she says, dragging the word out as she leans closer. “Just noticing how much fun you’re having over here.”

“Lilah,” you warn, though you can’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Don’t mind her,” LaMelo says, his voice easy and warm. “She’s just jealous I’m better company than she is.”

“Oh, please,” Lilah scoffs, though she looks thoroughly entertained. “Anyway, we’re heading out soon. You two wrapping this up or what?”

You glance at LaMelo, unsure how to answer, but he beats you to it. “Not yet,” he says simply, his eyes still on you.

Miles chuckles, standing and pulling Lilah to her feet. “Alright, we’ll leave you to it. Don’t have too much fun now.”

“We won’t,” you say, rolling your eyes as they walk away, though you can feel your cheeks heating.

LaMelo leans back, his expression unreadable for a moment before he smiles. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you say, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “They’re just... nosy.”

“They mean well,” he says, his tone easy. “But they’re definitely nosy.”

You laugh, and just like that, the playful atmosphere returns. Another round of drinks later, you’re both laughing over some absurd story he’s telling about a teammate, the kind of laughter that makes your stomach ache and your eyes water. You can’t remember the last time you felt this comfortable with someone so quickly, and it’s equal parts exhilarating and terrifying.

As the night winds down, you find yourself sitting closer to him than you were before, the warmth of his presence almost tangible. When the conversation finally slows, he looks at you, his expression softening.

“This was fun,” he says, his voice quieter than it’s been all night.

“It was,” you agree, smiling.

“I should probably let you go before Lilah comes back and drags you out of here,” he says, though there’s a reluctant note in his tone.

“Probably,” you say, but neither of you moves right away.

After a beat, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, holding it out to you. “Here. Put your number in.”

You hesitate for only a second before taking it, your fingers tapping at the screen as you save your contact. When you hand it back, he glances at it, his smile widening just slightly. “Got it.”

You stand together, and he walks you toward where Lilah and Miles are waiting near the entrance. LaMelo lingers as you say your goodbyes, his hands tucked into his pockets and that easy smile still on his face.

“You heading out too?” Miles asks, clapping LaMelo on the back.

“Yeah, in a bit,” he says, his eyes flickering to you briefly.

As you step outside into the cool night air, Lilah hooks her arm through yours, a knowing smile on her face. “Well, that went better than I expected,” she says as you walk toward the car.

“What do you mean?” you ask, though you can feel your heart beating a little faster.

“I mean,” she says, drawing the word out, “that Melo doesn’t usually exchange phone numbers. He usually... invites girls over.”

“Oh,” you say, your voice softer than you intended.

“Oh,” Lilah mimics, her grin widening. “Girl, he’s interested. And don’t act like you’re not, too.”

You don’t reply, but the small smile that creeps across your face says more than words ever could.

The morning sunlight filtered through your curtains, warm but unwelcome as it coaxed you awake. You squinted at the brightness, groaning softly as you turned over in bed. The faint hum of last night’s energy still lingered in your veins, memories of laughter and teasing banter replaying in fragments. Your mind, unbidden, drifted back to LaMelo. The way his smile had crinkled the corners of his eyes, the low timbre of his laugh, the quiet confidence that seemed to fill the space around him.

You reached for your phone on the nightstand, swiping it open almost instinctively. No messages. Your stomach sank a little, disappointment curling low in your chest. Not that you were expecting anything—not really. Still, you’d exchanged numbers. It wasn’t unreasonable to think he’d reach out. A simple “good morning” or a follow-up joke from last night. Something.

But the screen stayed blank.

With a huff, you tossed the phone aside, telling yourself it didn’t matter. You barely knew him. He owed you nothing. And yet, you couldn’t ignore the slight pang of rejection. Shaking off the feeling, you got out of bed and set about your day, throwing yourself into work to keep your mind from wandering too much.

The next few days passed in a blur of tasks and deadlines. You kept busy—busier than usual, if only to distract yourself from the lingering thoughts of LaMelo. You told yourself you weren’t thinking about him, that you didn’t care whether he texted or not. But every time your phone buzzed, your heart betrayed you, skipping a beat before you realized it was just an email or a message from Lilah.

By midweek, you’d all but convinced yourself to forget about him entirely. Clearly, whatever connection you thought you’d felt hadn’t been mutual. And that was fine. Disappointing, sure, but fine. You’d move on. You always did.

It was late afternoon when it happened. You were sitting at your desk, half-focused on your laptop while sipping from a cup of tea. Your phone vibrated on the table beside you, a faint buzz you almost ignored. But something made you glance over.

One new message.

You picked up the phone, the screen lighting up in your hand. And there it was.

hey, it’s lamelo

Two words. That was all it took to send your heart into an unreasonably giddy tailspin. You stared at the message, your mind scrambling for a response even as your pulse quickened. You tried to play it cool, telling yourself it wasn’t a big deal. But the stupid smile tugging at your lips betrayed you completely.

For a moment, you just held the phone, rereading the message as if it might disappear. Finally, you started typing back, deleting and retyping several times before settling on a response.

hi, took you long enough

You hesitated, your thumb hovering over the send button. Was that too flirty? Too casual? But before you could overthink it any further, you hit send, the message disappearing into the ether.

The wait for his reply felt endless, though it couldn’t have been more than a minute. When your phone buzzed again, your heart leapt.

had to make sure you’d still be interested

You laughed out loud, shaking your head at his audacity. It was classic LaMelo—cocky but somehow charming enough to pull it off.

and what if i wasn’t? you shot back, your fingers flying over the keyboard.

His response came almost immediately.

guess i’d have to work harder to change your mind

You smiled, biting your lip to keep from grinning too widely. If there was one thing LaMelo knew how to do, it was keep you on your toes. And, despite yourself, you realized you were more than okay with that.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[hearts4werka]

NNN day 8 | Adorable Chaos

summary: one day you woke up to Matt becoming the best dad for two of your little fur babies, showing all of the affection you wanted to show them yourself but couldn’t and there was Matt fulfilling your little dream

warnings: FLUFF, none! Cutesy content ahead of Matt being an animal dad

authors note: I keep falling behind the time I have set to post the fics and idk why 😭 another amazing idea brought to me by pookie @/strnilolover, and I was watching s4 of obx and when I tell you I was balling my eyes out but here’s the fic 😋 luv y’all and hope y’all enjoy this one

no nut november | masterlist | guestlist

The sun had barely rose up, casting a warm sunny glow over the room of my small apartment. In the living room, the soft purring of a cat mixed with the gentle tapping of tiny feet on the wooden floor. There was also the soft snuffling from a hedgehog, whose tiny, spiky body was inside a bunch of cozy blankets. My boyfriend Matt officially calls himself the ultimate caretaker of Molly and Mochi, and it was clear he wore that title with proudness.

I watched from the kitchen, a soft smile spreading across my face as I sipped at my fresh morning coffee. I was supposed to be getting ready for the day, but the sight before me was simply too adorable to look away from. Matt had transformed the living room into an own castle for my pets. Fluffy beds litter the floor and couch, precariously placed toys, and a mini cat tower took the most space, all precisely placed just for Molly and Mochi.

He sat on the floor, cross-legged, as Molly approached him, her eyes becoming wide with evident curiosity. In one swift motion, Matt pulled out a tiny feather toy from behind his back and as he waved it in the air, she transformed from a completely calm kitten to almost like a small hunter, jumping around and playfully swatting at the air. “You see, girl? You’ve got it! Just like that!” Matt cheered, his voice laced with enthusiasm. Molly responded to his praise with a soft meow, her tail wagging back and forth as she enjoyed all of his attention. Next to him, Mochi was busy sniffing through all of the delicious treats laid out like a buffet.

Matt had took time out of his evening searching through the pet store’s best treat options for Mochi picking out crunchy bites as if he was picking out red wine. He pointed at Mochi, who was blissfully munching away and announced, “Look at him eat! He’s such a cute little thing!” The sight of Matt caring for my pets stirred something deep inside of me, like an overwhelming warmth that got into every corner of my heart. It was adorable how he had essentially assumed the role of their caring parent, going above and beyond in his care for them.

“You know,” I joked while walking into the room, admiring the cuteness of a mess on the floor, “I thought I was the one who adopted them.” Matt turned to glance at me, his face lighting up with playful mock. “You think a mom can spoil her kids too much? What about the dad’s, huh? We can spoil the little fur baby’s too from time to time” Molly hopped onto Matt’s lap, immediately settling down as if to agree with his statement. Her spine straight and head tucked inside, she was in complete trust. Mochi, getting a bit jealous stomped over towards them and nudging Molly with his tiny nose as if to say, “Hey, I want attention too!”

Matt chuckled and scooped Mochi into his hands, gently cradling him. “Don’t worry, buddy! You’re our little superstar,” he said, giving Mochi a soft scratch on his spiky back. Mochi snuggled into his hand, his small body curling up into a ball of joy. I leaned against the door frame, admiring the scene as my heart fills with affection thats radiating off them. There was something so sweet about watching Matt collapse into a pile of giggles as he struggled to get Molly and Mochi to be at peace with each other in a small game. The way he showered them with affection made your own small attempts to gain their favor feel nearly impossible and slipping away.

“Okay, okay! Molly, you’re the champ! Now Mochi, your turn!” he exclaimed joyfully, as he attempted to get Mochi to follow the sound of a new toy from the ground. In that moment, Matt was entirely in his own bubble completely absorbed in their moves, treating my pets with the kind of love I’d only imagined giving them myself. I slowly walked closer, enveloped in the warmth of their laughter and the peaceful calming sounds that filled the air.

Finally, unable to resist any longer, you sat down beside him. “I think they’re starting to like you more than me,” I joked, wrapping an arm around him. Matt grinned, his eyes beaming with warmth. “Well, can you blame them? I’m a pretty cool fur dad” He pulled me closer, and even in the perfect chaos that these two little creatures brought into our lives, I felt something for sure-this was your family now-imperfect, chaotic, but filled with love.

I gave him a little smile, allowing myself to lean against him as Molly snuggled further into him and Mochi settled onto Matt's other knee. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I whispered, knowing in my heart that the love I had for Matt only became deeper by the way he accepted every weird flaw of our little fur filled family.

Guestlist!

| - @sturnsxplr-25 - @strnzzvsp - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @pussypie456 - @choclatestarfishwithahat - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknot - @strnilolover - @marrykisskilled - @phone4pills - @emely9274 - @cupiidk1lls - @lily-strnlo - @nicksgirlfriend - |

[tinydeskwriter]

Actress!Y/n Talking About Harry in Interviews Over the Years(2018-2022) Part II

 A/n:so, this is the second part, and I really hope you guys like it .

PART I | MASTERLIST

Jimmy Kimmel Live!, September, 2018

“I am so happy to have you here again.” Kimmel said, as they sat down. “You’re no longer my neighbor.”

“Unfortunately.” The woman agreed. “I miss you, Molly and the kids, we don’t have neighbors anymore.”

“You mean the house next door isn’t ready or…” 

“We literally have no neighbors, we bought fourteen acres ‘next door’ to a preserve, so it’s amazing views and a huge amount of privacy.” She explained. “Which when you have a job in the industry, and two young children is amazing.”

“That’s right, you had another baby!”Jimmy said as if he didn’t already now. “How far apart are they?”

“So, we had Atticus in January last year, and eleven months later we had Talulah,” She paused giving the audience time o cheer, “we wanted them to be close in age, which is a decision a lot of parents make, we didn’t know it would happen so fast, but apparently we are very fertile people,” She paused again, letting the people go crazy, “Yeah, so of course, we didn’t factor in our decision Harry’s tour, my album release, all my projects, and a very cranky baby, Atticus is physically all H, but he’s bad temper is all mine.”

“You went on tour pregnant and with a baby?” The host asked. “That must have been a crazy experience.”

“It was something.” She agreed. “But I was the boss’s wife, so everyone took good care of me, made sure I was comfortable, helped around with the baby, and H created an amazing environment with his whole team, it was lovely to witness.”

Met Gala 2019 With Liza Koshy| Vogue

“You co-chaired the Met Gala back in 2016, how is like to be back, and this year your gorgeous husband is co-chairing the event.” Liza asked Y/n as soon as they finished greeting each other.

The camera was zooming on the naked Gucci gown made of black lace, sequins and feathers the superstar was wearing, totally complementing her husband look.

“It is amazing, I am so proud of H, this is such an amazing honor, and is his first year, so I am happy we get to share this with each other.” Y/n said in a soft voice.

“What is ‘camp’ to you?”The you tuber asked.

“Just be yourself, whatever you want no matter what, be bold, be crazy, it’s camp.” The actress said moving her colorful feather boa/cape situation. “I think there is no limits.”  She had almost Rapunzel long hair extensions and a spectacular floral and feathers arrangement on top of her head.

“What was your inspiration for tonight’s spectacular look?”

“I just wanted to match H, tonight is all about him, and have fun, so I let Alessandro do as he pleased, and Ale being Ale didn’t hold back.” she shared. “My youngest didn’t even recognized me.”

“You look one hot mama, it’s hard to imagine you have two babies, does Atticus and Talulah know they have the coolest mother?”Liza asked.

“H is the cool parent,” Y/n admitted with a found smile, “Atticus has some idea that his daddy is a rockstar, so Harry’s definitely the coolest in his eyes.” 

The Late Late Show | Team USA v. Team UK- Dodgeball w/Michelle Obama

“I am here to support Harry,”Y/n said to he camera as the teams stretched in the background, “he’s not a very gracious loser, and I mean, he’s in James’s Team against Michelle Obama, there is just no way that they are going to win this game.” 

“Babe, “ Y/n called from the sidelines after watching Harry be hit in the ‘1D’ “Are you okay, honey?”

“I want more kids… in the future,” the actress blushed slightly looking to the camera.

The Kelly Clarkson Show, Jan, 2020

“How old are your kids know?”Kelly asked.

“Atticus is three years old, and Lulah just turned two, the terrible twos, funny enough, Lulah doesn’t suffer from it, but Atticus haven’t got over it yet…”Y/n said with a smile as pictures showed up on the screen, her children faces always blurred or hidden.

“People say terrible two, but threenager is a real thing,”Kelly said seriously.

“Yeah, that’s what I heard,”The actress said. “But Lulah just turned two, and I think it might not have fully catch up with her yet, because as I was leaving the house today, she threw her first temper tantrum.” Y/n commented. “She was just, on the floor, crying her little heart out, and of course, Atticus didn’t like to be outdone, so he threw himself at the rug screaming bloody murder, and I just left them there for Harry to deal,” The young woman told Kelly. “I sounded so bad right now, but really, I am that mom that keeps trying to calm them down, and things just get worst because it becomes a competition between the two toddlers, while Harry is just chill, he sit on the couch and just watches them unamused until they organically stop.”

“They lay it on sometimes, like ‘why are you leaving me’”

“I thing is worst with Harry,”Y/n confessed, “I have no problem in admitting H is the favorite parent, like, they come to me for comfort and all the ‘mommy’ things, but Harry is their favorite.” She said with a smile.

“And you don’t feel jealous or anything…”

“No, because, to me, it just shows how much of na amazing daddy he is, and I just feel like: damn! I made a really good choice.”The crowd cheer. “It’s really validating and I am just proud of myself for my choice in partner and baby daddy.”

Hailey Bieber | Who’s in my Bathroom? April, 2021

“Do you get uncomfortable by the amount of female attention your husband’s get?” Hailey asked as they sipped their margaritas.

“So, I have two answers for those questions: I don’t get uncomfortable with his fans showing their love for him, it’s lovely to see the amount of love and devotion he inspires, and they have always been so welcoming to me.” She said looking at possible the only other woman in the planet that understood the level of craziness it was. “But I do get uncomfortable with women in the industry hitting on him, I am not even talking women our age, it’s like: cougar level, and very recently we had a very awful situation, where it was in a working environment with a power imbalance, and it just got too much, more people got involved, media attention happened, and at the same time we had to deal with this as a couple and as a family.”

“Does you ever wish you guys just had normal jobs and careers?”Hailey supports her face in her hand. 

“Never, no matter what, I can’t imagine Harry not doing what he does, and I would never no make the career choices I did, I love acting, I love singing and songwriting, and I love directing.” She says with conviction. “For me it was life changing, I came from nothing, my mom was a single mother waitress, raising three kids on a small wage salary and tips, Disney changed my life, it paid for our first house, for the seed money in my mother’s organic company, it paid my sister college.”

“Is it surreal that your children have a childhood so different from yours?”The blonde asks with a smile.

“They’re extremely privileged, my four years old the other day was like: mummy, why do we have so many houses? And Lulah was complaining the size of the Jet, because she wanted the ‘big plane’, and H was like: sugarcube, you don’t know what your are asking for.” Y/n said with a soft smile. “My children…they have a lot of rich people problems.”

The Drew Barrymore Show, Aug, 2022

“Oh My God, you look even more gorgeous in person.” Drew said as they created each other. 

“Thank you, thank you, have you look at yourself? I was obsessed with you growing up, it’s so amazing to be here.” Y/n said with a big smile, arranging the skirt of her dress as she sat down.

“You’re the face of a Dior perfume, a brand ambassador for Gucci, multi- award winning actress and musician, your under thirty with two Academy Awards, which is historical, you have two successful companies, you just came back a few months ago from a very glorious passage through Cannes where you  debuted Top Gun: Maverick, your own movie and you own Camera d’Ore for your debut feature, also: 14 minutes standing ovation, for a movie produced, directed, written and starred by women,” she stopped for a moment to allow the crowd to applauded the guest, “and then, your also a mom, to three children, and you’re married to Harry freaking Styles, the world’s biggest rockstar, and most wanted man according to Rolling Stones.”

“You just made me sound so cool.”The younger woman said with a small smile and flushed cheeks.

“You are cool.”Drew affirmed. “How do you balance it all?”

“I have a great team working with me, and I have just the greatest partner, and this is really important.”Y/n said crossing her legs. “We plan things in a way that the children will always have one of us 24/7 and in a way that we can always be together, his career is never more important than mine and vice-versa, we’re on tour now, Harry’s Love on Tour, I am a non-touring artist, but H really loves touring, is his thing, and it was important for him to have me and the kids together  with him on the road as his support system, and the children just love going to all the different museums, and seeing new things, and eating different stuff, but, during his tour break we’re moving to Australia because I have a movie that is going to be shoot there.”

“What is like going on tour with three young children under five?”

“It’s chaos, Atticus and Lulah have some understanding that this is daddy’s job, this is Atticus second tour, but for them is just fun, Riley is just a baby, she’s with me 24/7, shes our calmest child,” Y/n said. “She’s actually the same age that Atticus was during Live on Tour.”

“Riley is your quarantine baby…”

“I found out I was pregnant in February last year during Where the Crawdads Sing pre-production, so yeah, she’s kinda of my Covid baby.”

[goatyuuji]

itfs week was ages ago I KNOW PLEASE FORGIVE ME...anyways itfs week fic rec list 🩷💙🩷

solar flare by HamsterQinghua (G, 3.8k)

“You…” Fushiguro starts slowly, and the hair on Yuuji’s arm raises at his low tone. “You’re… Sukuna’s vessel.” Yuuji wonders for a brief second if he’s been the one slapped with the way Fushiguro’s words tunnel into his gut and burn in his throat. He swallows. Even Kugisaki, next to him, has her brows drawn together in confusion. “What?” Yuuji asks, and his voice is small, even to his own ears. “No, I’m not—” He cuts himself off. He couldn’t say he wasn’t Sukuna’s vessel, right? --- or, Megumi forgets only Yuuji after an unfortunate encounter, and Yuuji's handling it well. really. Check out their entire itfs week fics: here

lovesick by xiaoscribbles (G, 2.5k)

“You say that so easily,” Megumi’s frown deepens, the hurt in his chest growing with every word she says. She doesn’t mean any harm by it, but sometimes, she’s too blunt. “I know,” Nobara sits up again. She leans into his space, brown eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’m not saying you need to get over it. I’m saying that this doesn’t have to hurt.” “And if I lose him again?” He snaps, his aura no longer light and airy, but deathly serious. “It happened once. I don't think I can deal with it if it happens again.” Or, Junpei exists. Megumi is jealous. Nobara is overworked and underpaid.

Lawfully Yours by tamarsilan (M, 18.6k)

He holds up his pinkie, in the way his new fathers had recently taught him meant business, “I promise.” She wraps a small digit around his own, smiling wide with her crooked front teeth. Check out their entire itfs week fics: here

wasteland, baby! by uriekukistan (T, 2.5k)

Fushiguro cupped his face gently, guiding Yuuji’s eyes to meet his own green ones. The look in his eyes brought a fresh wave of tears to Yuuji’s. Yuuji recognized the look on his face, the same one he wore at the detention center as Yuuji bled out on the sidewalk in front of him. His expression was soft, loving even, far too loving for someone like Yuuji. He was a monster, but Fushiguro looked at him like he was so, so human. “What is it?” Fushiguro said softly. “Talk to me.” OR the Culling Game Arc hotel scene we all deserve Check out their entire itfs week fics: here

as all friends do by staromantic (T, 2.6k)

“Wow, wow, wow,” Megumi interrupts her, immediately sitting up as he hears her words. “What boyfriend? I don’t have a boyfriend.” “Are you drunk, Megumi? Or high? What the fuck are you on about?” Nobara exclaims, stressing her words and moving her hands wildly. “Are you fucking with me?” or : Megumi has a boyfriend he doesn’t know about, Nobara is surrounded by idiots and Yuuji teaches Megumi that kissing your homies is actually not platonic behaviour Check out their entire itfs week fics: here

a condition called love by earthtodora (T, 3.3k)

Megumi gets injured, and the whole incident is causing Yuuji the realization that he might, in fact, be in love with his friend. Chaos ensues.

in hindsight, we were fated by getosmanta (G, 3.8k)

“Nah.” Itadori simply says, watching the dogs with a smile. “You know, Geto and I talked about you a lot.” Megumi freezes. “About your technique, how you tried to face Sukuna,” Itadori continues, rambling with pink cheeks and wind-bitten lips. “How I didn’t realize that I’d miss you until I couldn’t see you.” or 5+1 times Megumi wonders about Soulmates

You are my type, and I am yours by Gelafour (T, 3.8k)

Megumi is in love with Yuuji, but his crush has a preferred type of person. And everything changes on the day Yuuji asks, out of nowhere, about Megumi's type... Check out their entire itfs week fics: here

In the public eye by meyers (G, 3.7k)

There was something disgusting about all that stupid theater. He couldn't stand it. What did they know besides nothing? What did they know about Yuuji? He didn't like to look like a superstar, even though people said he would be one someday. He was just like any normal seventeen year old boy and he didn't need anyone to stare at him assuming the most erroneous things that could be assumed. It was something that was killing him inside. They didn't know him as well as he did! ----- Where Yuuji becomes the new sensation of his school after a basketball game, and Megumi can't stand others talking about him. Check out their entire itfs week fics: here

ALSO CHECK OUT THE OFFICIAL ITFS WEEK WORK COLLECTION

PS: lots of love to the mods of this fest and all the artists and the writers that participated, you all are so awesome and it was such a good fest <3

[us-the-voices-and-more-voices-2]

My headcannons for what type of music the Batfam likes lol

Bruce: 40s love songs, mostly because Thomas and Martha are lovers of old music and art it’s a call back to Batman being such an old.. old character.

He also loves really, REALLY sad songs. Just straight depressing songs, like he knows all the lyrics to like the most downright suicidal songs ever.

Dick: he listens to very upbeat music, but like EDM and rap, he also loves circus music and really ridiculously old songs he knows all the words to “the flying trapeze” by heart ❤️

Jason: unironically his favourite album is Neil Cicirega's "mouth sounds" series of albums, he also would never admit it but he listens to Kikuo constantly. he's not a "fan" of vocaloid he just likes some songs. he also constantly listens to 80s and 70s hits as a call back to his character being popular in the 80s.

Tim: worst taste in music ever, he does NOT get the aux. it's all the most popular hits of the last 4 decades, for better or worse.

he also gets all the WE jingles stuck in his head, it's so bad.

it's mostly now video game OST's he got into FNAF lore at one point and actually solved it, and then got super into the music. he relates a bit too much, he calls Jason sometimes mike because they are both undead guys hellbent on keeping kids safe from the evils of this world, and Ra's afton because the bastard always comes back. he will BLARE "I hope you die in a fire" when working a Ra's case.

Damian: despite what he holds himself to he really likes the same fandom sorta music, video game lore was the only thing that Damien and Tim talk about, they have usually ZERO free time to watch or play games they just extrapolate wtf the game is about from their friends WITH free time. that being wally and bart.

so damien has a bunch of the living tombstones, classic Chinese and arabic music but mainly Pakistani, some 80s hits. 40s love songs because bruce is right they are really good, and some mislabeled cassette tapes\CD's Damien picks up on patrol that he likes.

Steph: she didn't really get a chance to listen to much music, since Cluemaster was a dick. but she did bond and learn to love Ballet music ever since Cassandra introduced it to her, she gets whole records and albums and buys one time releases on Ebay for herself and Cassandra. otherwise she just listens to audiobooks or podcasts when working.

Cassandra: TONS of ballet music along with classic Oprah music and theatre music, she goes to plays and pirates them, she listens to every single play or theatre music she can get her hands on. she listens to "rocky horror picture show" "the guy who didn't like musicals" "Coppélia" "Jesus Christ superstar" "The Mousetrap" any and everything. she adores it all, she and Steph are constantly looking for more records and plays to watch and pirate.

Barbara: weirdly enough 60s music, Jim rubbed off on her and she honestly just listens to all sorts of 60s sounding music, she had a Elvis phase where she just was constantly listening to Elvis, eventually she found out there was a TON of other 60s and 70s black artists who were ripped off by Elvis and started listening to them, she then eventually got into punk rock and rock and roll.

Harper: she is fully into the Gotham punk music scene, she literally is one of the biggest supporters of the Gotham punk scene. only random punk song CD's, videos she converted into CD's, old gothamite punk songs on vinyl, digital releases, she just has so much merch half she made herself and half she bought, she is the epitome of Gotham punk fan. she actually has a whole ass internet archive account dedicated to JUST Gotham punk.

Duke: weirdly he loves very ethereal and bright peppy music, only instrumentals though, listens to the weirdcore playlists on YouTube listens to corecore, he just has very strange music tastes.

sometimes he forgets his entire playlist is filled with weirdly ethereal music and the rest of the batfam get so confused, and think Jean-paul is blaring church music again.

Jean-Paul: only church music, he has the most bland music tastes, he sometimes listens to catholic metal or something when he's working but other than that he just blares organ music and mass and church music, everyone tries to tell him that he CAN LISTEN TO ANYTHING ELSE. PLEASE. but he just doesn't lol.

Thomas: he listens to 40s love songs and old Sicilian and Italian songs, he's a old fart, he loves old movie soundtracks.

William Cobb: circus music only circus music, late 1880s and 1950s circus music. it sounds like a clown house and it triggers the shit out of bruce.

Jarro: he's a baby, he has no actual opinions the batfam put on nursery rhymes andcoco melon

and the rest (carrie, Bernard, huntress and the other ones)

I have 0 idea I have not read enough comics to figure it out lol

[thankyouforthememoriesworld]

🔎 I wanted to send a better article after that last post of randomness. I LOVE these articles (which then send me down random side quests).

First one features a bunch of high school coaches talking about facing Azzi. I love reading what they have to say because they all respect her so much.

https://web.archive.org/web/20211127092909/https://www.ctinsider.com/uconn/article/Scouting-report-on-UConn-freshman-Azzi-Fudd-16550275.php

The coach for Sidwell talks about the gameplan for the championship game. What I didn't know is Kiki Rice played that game for Sidwell as a sophomore. And I found this long highlight with their commentary.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VvJB3byj7lM

This video has Azzi's championship interview:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ePII9w82ijA

Of course step up has highlights: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ZfVsCCGOIg

Houzmazoo does as well and I love him just yelling that's the match up right there (for Azzi vs Kiki): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VPboERy3n8o

Second article is a month after Geno has gotten to work with Azzi.

https://web.archive.org/web/20211108155314/https://www.ctinsider.com/sports/article/UConn-freshman-Azzi-Fudd-everything-Geno-Auriemma-16288873.php

“I think most of it is what I expected,” Auriemma said. “She’s very quiet, very much introverted, really doesn’t say a whole lot. But her game is much older than her age. Her footwork is the kind of footwork that you would expect from someone going into the pros, someone who has spent three or four years perfecting that. That’s how good her footwork is. And her ability to get shots off and the way the shot comes off every single time, the exact same way, I mean, I knew it, but when you’re watching on a regular basis, it’s pretty amazing.”

On Thursday, he just motioned, letting his arms flail and swing to represent Bueckers’ herky-jerky style and closing his hands together to demonstrate Fudd’s skills — coordinated, tight, together.

Third is a month before she started freshman year basketball season. Just 5 things about her. It is fun to read that she caught Geno's eye as a 7th grader.

https://web.archive.org/web/20211020221324/https://www.ctpost.com/sports/article/She-hates-the-spotlight-5-things-to-know-16181444.php

I love it when you go down a rabbit hole because you always make amazing discoveries and I get to enjoy them 😘.

Newbies should be required to read these articles and watch these videos to be able to talk about Azzi.

Fudd is, in essence, a supernova — a complete scorer with unlimited range, a point guard’s handle, and no ego. Her jump shot has been lauded by NBA superstar Stephen Curry, and there are comparisons to WNBA and UConn legend Maya Moore in her overall game.

Azzi basically met all the NCAA players in high school, she knows everyone. I wasn't expecting 50 minutes for the highlight video (I'll watch it at another time 😅).

Of course, Azzi was MVP of another championship game.

When can I see her play again? I miss her shot so fucking much😭.

Give us Houzmazoo as a commentator in the NCAA, he's so entertaining: "oh that's far enough" "tough" "step back, shot *lol*" "good D, that's the match up".

Fudd’s footwork in drills is just about always the same, which is to say it’s almost always perfect. The way she catches the ball and shoots it? Same every time, whether 10 or 25 feet from the basket. “Azzi just walks around like she’s good,” Auriemma said Thursday outside Gampel Pavilion

Geno is going to play her 30 minutes per game, isn't he? He loves Azzi too much 😌.

“All we have to do is get her open,” Auriemma said a couple weeks ago. “Boom, boom, boom. It’s up in the air before you can get your hands up. Swish, swish, swish. Right in (the defender’s) face. Her free throws and her shots from three feet beyond the 3-point line are exactly the same, no difference, no added anything, same routine. A lot of it is God given. A lot of it is her working her butt off every day. I don’t say anything about her shot other than ‘Good job.’”

The Bueckers-Fudd era has begun — almost. (we're having it this year 💫)

Fudd landed on the Huskies’ radar as a seventh-grader, and took an unofficial visit to Storrs during her freshman year at St. John’s College High School in Washington, D.C.

I don't even have to say anything about this 🤠:

Fudd and Bueckers are nearly inseparable. They’ve been spending most weekends together since UConn’s season ended, working out privately with Alex McLean, an assistant coach with the NBA’s Washington Wizards.

“They’re very, very close. They’re also extremely competitive with each other, which you would expect,” Scribner said. “While they’re great, great friends, they both want to beat each other on the court.”

[huckleberrykai]

°˖✧ huckleberrykai's masterlist ✧˖°

last updated: 22.10.2023 requests + suggestions: open! pls give me some i beg

tomorrow x together ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

ot5 headcannons + mini fics:

➵ crush crush crush ~ [what are they like when they have a crush on you?]

➵ our song ~ [mini scenarios based on taylor swift lyrics!]

➵ let's dance the night away ~ [prom with our fav boys!]

➵ call me baby ~ [nicknames you give them!]

➵ there's food at home ~ [txt as dads!]

➵ why's it spicy? ~ [txt vs your plumping lip gloss]

➵ squish ~ [txt reacting to their chubby gf in a tight outfit]

choi yeonjun:

➵ lost ~ [when yeonjun finds a lost child in the park while trying to clear his head, he goes on a quest to find her mom.]

➵ found ~ [after that day in the park, yeonjun decides he wants to keep you both around for a long time. - part 2 to lost!]

➵ i did something bad ~ [if you're on opposite sides, then why does it feel so good to be with him? - mafia au]

➵ dance with me ~ [trying to confess to your dance class partner on valentines day is more overwhelming than you originally thought.]

➵ are you still watching? ~ [after a long tour away from his baby, yeonjun doesn't wanna pay attention to the netflix show you were watching. - SMUT 18+ ONLY !]

➵ picturesque ~ [you go on a cute date with your boyfriend, who just so happened to bring his new camera.]

➵ never been kissed ~ [your new boyfriend just wants some smooches, but you aren't sure how to tell him you've never been kissed.]

➵ comfy cozy ~ [yeonjun gets a little handsy when you surprise him with an early autumn cozy getaway for his birthday. - SMUT 18+ ONLY !]

choi soobin:

➵ sacrifice ~ [you spill a drink on a very pretty man in a club ~ inspired by sacrifice by bebe rexha]

➵ superstar ~ [when soobin gets the opportunity to work with you, he can't help but feel nervous.]

➵ birthday bunny ~ [just two tired horny lovers messily helping each other out. - SMUT 18+ ONLY !]

➵ fight for you ~ [on your 21st birthday coronation day, you finally get to meet the knight you've been admiring for so long.]

choi beomgyu:

➵ not so secret ~ [secretly dating someone in a house of six people isn't easy - especially when you wander out of his bedroom wearing nothing but his shirt.]

➵ call it what you want ~ [when you and beomgyu start dating, you aren't sure how to tell your brother soobin.]

➵ i wouldn't ask you to take care of me ~ [after returning from your honeymoon, you already have to put your vows to the test.]

kang taehyun:

➵ tae-tok [when your boyfriend is always touring or busy, you settle for the next best thing. tiktok boyfriend edits that his fans make.]

➵ the virtue's in the verse ~ [you become a secret admirer to the boy who never responds to your flirts]

➵ missing you ~ [taehyun wanted to surprise you by coming home early, but it turns out he got home just in time. - SMUT 18+ ONLY !]

huening kai:

➵ here's to teenage memories ~ [you meet a cute boy on vacation ~ inspired by kiss me kiss me by 5SOS <3]

➵ i thought we were in love already? ~ [kai tries to think of ways to get you to like him, unbeknownst to him you've been in love with him the whole time.]

➵ you smell nice ~ [kai notices his hoodies going missing, and it isn't until he visits your apartment to stay for the weekend that he realises where they all went.]

➵ toaster strudel ~ [kai wants to frost his favourite pastry before he eats it <3 - SMUT 18+ ONLY !]

➵ pizza lover ~ [sick of playing cat and dog, kai gives you a little push to cross the barrier of best friends to more <3]

➵ can't keep my hands to myself ~ [your first time with your sweet boyfriend who can't help but think about your pretty hands - SMUT 18+ ONLY !]

➵ cat and dog ~ [despite being so different, your friends think your black cat and golden retriever dynamic with your boyfriend is adorable.]

➵ memories ~ [of course being best friends with your boyfriend's sister means premium access to his childhood videos.]

➵ video games ~ [gamer bf!kai x sanrio gf!reader ~ headcanons and texts]

➵ all mine ~ [kai never considered himself the jealous type. not until he met you.]

➵ laundry basket ~ [when kai finds his sweet precious girl with his dirty shirt in her face and her hand down her pants he has to teach her a lesson. - SMUT 18+ ONLY !]

[baddestbittyontheblock]

sam kerr fic recs

you are responsible for the content you consume‼️

༄ you're not yourself sam kerr x fem!reader

-you're not well, but you still go out to watch sam's game; but when she finds out you've come out when you're sick, she drops everything to take care of you

༄ being sam's sam kerr x fem!reader

-headcanons on your relationship with sam

༄ haven't i given enough sam kerr x reader

-When Sam and Y/N met, everything had just fallen into place. Y/N was interning at the local hospital when the Matilda's had come for a charity event, cheering up sick kids on the ward.

༄ chills sam kerr x reader

-the reader steals Sams hoodie

༄ surprise sam kerr x reader | fluff, pregnancy

-you come over to australia to surprise sam

༄ where it all began sam kerr x reader

-sam kerr proposes to you at the same place you both met 16 years ago

༄ that's how it's done sam kerr x reader

-The moment she strikes it, you know it's going in. The curl, the technique, the fact it was struck with such confidence despite being 30 metres out.

༄ ice cold sam kerr x reader

-You couldn’t have hated this more if you tried.

Every ticking second, every running, jogging, sprinting step was another towards the end of extra time. Another towards the shootout.

༄ sam blurb sam kerr x reader

-sam kerr fic where her and reader both play for Aus and win the wc

༄ you look like an angel sam kerr x reader

༄ i just wanted to see you sam kerr x reader

-Ever since the day you left you missed her. You missed her laugh, her smile, and the little notes she would leave for you when she would go run errands or go out with the girls.

༄ worst fears sam kerr x williamson!reader

-Part 2

༄ ring in the pocket sam kerr x reader | fluff

-mamma mia and a proposal

༄ chelsea matches and jerks sam kerr x reader | fluff

-you go to support your girlfriend at the FA Women's cup. some guy sitting next to you doesn't get the hint to back off. Sam takes things into her own hands.

༄ big sister's sam kerr x arnold!reader | angst, swearing

-what happens when your overprotective big sister finds out you're dating and not just that, you're dating the team captain. well shit.

༄ surprise superstar sam kerr x fem!reader

-after not seeing sam for a month, you fly out to watch the matilda's bronze medal match

༄ y/n l/n and sam kerr are in love: a thread sam kerr x fem!reader

-a series of tweets about the mutual pining that occurs between superstar sam kerr and y/n l/n

༄ close quarters sam kerr x reader | swearing

-Never has sharing a bed been so difficult

༄ easy peasy sam kerr x reader

-"Sammy, babe, I love you, but if you pace there any harder, you're gonna put a hole in the carpet. I don't think the hotel loves you enough for that."

༄ big ol' storm vs the amazing sam. sam kerr x reader

-As much as you loved that Sam was enjoying her time out, you hated the fact you were now stuck alone in your shared apartment at ten o'clock at night and forecast says a thunderstorm is looming on the horizon.

༄ hi sam sam kerr x reader | fluff

-sam and y/n throughout the years

༄ star player teenager!sam kerr x teenager!reader | minor character injury, fluff

-flowers, star players and soccer

༄ jumpers, apologies and proposals sam kerr x reader | angst, fighting, illusions to smut

-the aftermath of losing to england

༄ body slam sam kerr x reader | angst? dickhead, fluff

-a guy runs on the field mid-game and does the one thing that set's sam off. he touches you.

༄ invisible strings sam kerr x reader | underage drinking, gay pining, not proof read so u can call me out on grammar and i wont get my feelings hurt.

༄ buzzfeed; the 10 times sam kerr and y/n arnold nade us believe in love sam kerr x reader

༄ sam kerr and y/n arnold take a friendship test to see who's the better friend sam kerr x reader

༄ thirty laps around the sun sam kerr x fem!reader

-you celebrate sam's thirtieth birthday

༄ benched sam kerr x reader | pregnancy? slight injury to reader

༄ only slightly sam kerr x reader

-where Sam is only slightly mad that Y/N got hurt

༄ positive mum!sam kerr x fem!reader

-after so many negatives, you and sam finally get your two lines

༄ a raging heat mum!sam kerr x fem!reader

-your first month of pregnancy and you're having the worst time ever, but sam is trying her best to balance work and her pregnant wife

༄ back home mum!sam kerr x fem!reader

-the posts and stories from your flight and your first few days back home in perth

༄ accidents happen mum!sam kerr x fem!reader | (nora, age 3)

-sam takes nora to practice for the day, but she has an accident when left alone

༄ cockblocked sam kerr x reader | smut, minors dni 18+ (strap ons, vibrators, cunnilingus), light arsenal women x reader, just teasing fluff n fucking

༄ cheers to 20, have a tattoo sam kerr x reader | fluff, illusions to smut

-you got your first tattoo

༄ mayflower i sam kerr x fem!reader | ivf, pregnancy mentions, slight angst

༄ jump then fall sam kerr x fem!reader | puke, injury (broken wrist), hurt/comfort, fluff, sam being pookie caring girlfriend

-reader is unwell, she's a good actor though and can cover it up and hide it. But, playing a game while sick isn't always the best idea.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Sweet Nothing (Superstar Chapter 6)

They said the end is coming

Everyone's up to something

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they're push and shoving

You're in the kitchen humming

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

Roy and the Reader enjoy simple domestic bliss.

Roy Kent x Reader

8.3k words

Warnings: Language, mind-numbing fluff, an overprotective dad, allusions to smut

Wow, this came out kind of long! It was fun to write and I hope all this fluff was worth waiting for!

~

Keeley eyed me carefully as we ate lunch in my office, door closed to keep out all the men. After the Paris trip, we’d had a hard time synching up our schedules, so she’d finally cornered me and demanded a lunch date, kicking Roy out of the office in the process. We sat on the floor, shoes kicked off, stabbing at the salads she’d picked up for us.

“So, what about after the game?” she asked, eyebrows raised. “Did you join the boys’ clubbing? Jamie didn’t mention if you did.”

“Oh, no,” I admitted, taking a sip from my water bottle. “They asked me to, though.”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Then why were you all dressed up?”

Suddenly, the tomato on the end of my fork looked really interesting and required all of my attention. “Who said I was dressed up?” I asked in my most disinterested voice.

“Only all the guys,” Keeley said with a giggle. “That little red number from the gala- you’re welcome by the way- and some heels with your hair all sexy.” She raised an eyebrow. “I think there’s a couple little crushes in that changing room, you know.” A smirk played on her lips. “Not as big as the one Roy has on you, of course,” she added.

I looked at the non-existent watch on my wrist. “Damn, is my lunch over already?”

“Come on,” she urged, giving me a friendly shove. “Where’d you go all dressed up?”

My story was ready to go. “Just went out exploring and wandering about. Found a nice little bar to sit in, read a bit on my phone.” I shrugged. “Nothing too exciting.”

“What about Roy?”

Once again, my salad was fascinating. “What about Roy? Didn’t he go out with the guys?”

“Nope,” Keeley answered, popping the “p” loudly. “You sure he didn’t join you at the bar?”

“He did not join me at the bar.”

You’re not lying, I thought to myself as I remembered our date at the Louvre, eating dinner with the Mona Lisa, followed by slow dancing in front of the statue of Cupid and Psyche. After that, we strolled around the museum, champagne in hand, gazing at the art. The whole time, I found myself wondering if I’d wake up back in my old room, its walls covered with Roy Kent, to discover the last four months had been a dream. Instead, I had woken up to find he’d run out to grab me a chocolate croissant for breakfast before the sun was up.

But Keeley didn’t need to know any of that right now.

Not that keeping Keeley in the dark was something I liked. Outside of a couple of my really good school mates, Keeley was quickly becoming my best friend. She was sweet, savvy, kickass and independent, and a great hype woman who made anyone feel like they could do anything. There was a part of me that was dying to grab her by the shoulders and scream, “I’m shagging Roy Kent and I think I’m in love with him!”. But I was loving the small bubble Roy and I were living in, where only Jamie Tartt knew about our existence and was threatened into silence. The little bubble where we were constantly holed up in my flat or his house, watching movies or making dinner together, drinking on his back porch and whispering sarcastic jokes late into the night, not having to answer anyone’s questions about how we got together or who liked who first or how someone like me got someone like him. No, thank you. Roy and I would stay in our happy little bubble for as long as it suited us.

~

“How do I look?”

I poked my head out of Roy’s bathroom to look at him. He was wearing- surprise, surprise- all black: black jeans, black shirt, black jacket.

“You look like Roy Kent,” I answered, running my brush through my hair. “Dunno why you’re so nervous. You’ve met them before. Don’t you remember my dad tackling you?”

Roy sighed and traded one black jacket for another nearly identical one. “Yeah, but that was as ‘Roy Kent, football legend’. This time it’s ‘Roy Kent, old man sneaking into your daughter's hotel room in Paris’.” He turned to me, waiting for my verdict on his outfit.

Tossing my brush on his bed, I strolled over to him and adjusted his jacket, fixing the neckline. “How about ‘Roy Kent, boyfriend who makes their daughter really happy’?” I offered.

A smile cracked through his nerves. “I like the sound of that guy.”

“Me too.” I kissed his cheek. “Now, let’s go so you can stop bugging me about my mum’s pasta.”

The drive to my parents’ was quieter than our usual car rides. It wasn’t hard to figure out why; Roy had already told me that he hadn’t met too many parents in his previous relationships. He was never really with someone long enough to reach that step, and the few times he did, it didn’t go great. He was especially embarrassed to talk about the mother who had propositioned him when her daughter was out of the room. Stories from Roy’s past made me sad sometimes; he’d had a hard time finding people who made him feel cared about for himself, not his skill or fame.

No wonder he clings to Phoebe and his sister, I had realized one day. I hoped my parents would join the apparently short list of people who made him feel special for just being Roy.

We easily found parking in front of my parents’ house and quickly made our way to the door. I carried a pie we’d picked up on the way over, and Roy held a bouquet of flowers he’d brought for my mum. As I unlocked the door, I glanced at him; he looked more nervous than the teenage boyfriends I’d brought home during my school days.

“Relax,” I whispered, planting a small pack on his cheek. “They already adore you.”

As if on cue, my mother yanked the door open, nearly ripping my arm off in the process. “We thought we heard something!” she greeted, ushering us in. She took the pie out of my hands as she kissed me on the cheek. “How was Paris?”

“Great,” I managed, closing the front door behind us. “The team won, and I got to check out the Louvre with Roy.” I shot Roy a knowing look, which seemed to relax him slightly. It also captured my mum’s attention.

“Roy, we’re so glad to have you over again,” she gushed, giving him a half hug that had him frozen in place.

When she pulled away, Roy cleared his throat and held out the flowers. “These are for you,” he stated, a bit stiffly. “I, uh, felt bad for interrupting your dinner last time without bringing anything so…” He trailed off, glancing at me as my mother took the flowers.

I slid my hand into his, giving it a small squeeze. “Where’s Dad?” I asked my mother, trying to put Roy at ease by taking some of the attention off him.

“Dad’s in the kitchen. Hope you don’t mind, we sent the boys to a friend’s house, so it’s just the four of us.”

Atta girl, Mum. My brothers were great boys, but they’d be positively tickled at the idea of having Roy Kent at their dinner table again and would probably be all over TikTok bragging about their “future brother-in-law” before we’d even had dessert. Just the four of us would mean that Roy could just be Roy, my boyfriend getting to know my parents, not Roy Kent, football legend and my lifelong crush.

My dad greeted Roy with a firm handshake, much calmer than the last time he’d seen us together. “How’re you doing, Roy?” he asked in a detached voice, as if he hadn’t been smothering the guy in the entryway just a few months ago.

“Good, sir,” Roy answered, more nervous than I’d ever seen him. “Yourself?”

Dad nodded, letting go of Roy’s hand. “Fine, thanks.” He quickly led us to the dining room, where Mum had clearly gone all out.

On the table was my parents’ best China that usually only came out when my dad’s boss visited or for my gran’s birthday, and there was a bottle of wine that I knew was twice as expensive as the kind they normally drank. Much to my relief, they (most likely Mum) had had the foresight to tuck away any embarrassing photos from my awkward teenage phase as well as that one photo my dad had of an extremely drunk me on my 21st birthday kissing my Roy Kent cardboard cutout, which currently laid flat under my bed at home, where Roy would hopefully never find it.

Roy pulled out my chair for me and then took the same seat he’d been in the night of my dad’s birthday. He shot me an awkward glance; God, this man had played in the freaking World Cup, yet here he was, jiggling his leg and blushing like a schoolboy on his first date.

Fuck, he must really like me, I thought to myself, feeling a bit stupid at such an obvious revelation. Of course Roy liked me; we spent every free moment we could together and when we couldn’t, we were constantly texting or calling each other. Heck, he’d even started using the Snapchat account Ted had made him sign up for so he could send me pictures of his uncle-niece dates. The man was clearly smitten, and the feeling was completely, totally, absolutely mutual.

My mother urged us to load our plates with pasta and salad, which Roy did not need to hear twice. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed that he didn’t start eating until I’d taken my first bite; a gentlemanly gesture I’d never had a boyfriend do.

Once we’d all served ourselves food and wine and begun eating, my dad cleared his throat. “So how long… er, when did…” He gestured to the two of us. “When’d this start?”

I shot Roy a glance as I sipped the suddenly very necessary wine; his face had gone a little pale. Apparently I’d have to field this question myself. “Actually, when Roy popped by on your birthday,” I admitted. “Believe it or not, he saw all the posters in my room and didn’t run away.” I took Roy’s hand under the table and gave it a squeeze. “Since it was painfully obvious that I liked him, he asked me out the following weekend, and we made things official about…” I glanced at Roy, doing math in my head.

“A month ago,” he finished for me promptly, a shine in his eyes. “We went to this fundraiser thing hosted by the club owner and…” He trailed off with a shrug. “Dunno, we talked, realized we like being together, and made it official.” His eyes shifted to my dad, as if Roy was hoping he’d be okay with all this.

My dad was staring at Roy with an intensity I’d never seen in my life. Part of me could understand my dad’s hesitation to be as enthusiastic as my mum about this relationship; Roy had about a decade on me (though honestly, neither of us felt it), his temper on and off the pitch was nothing short of legendary, and, thanks in part to my stalker-like tendencies, my dad knew quite a bit about the rotation of gorgeous women who made up Roy’s dating history. During his last visit, Roy had just been someone I shared an office with, so Dad could fawn over him without a second thought. Now, Roy wasn’t just some girlhood crush on my walls, but a real, viable romantic partner. The concept must have been a bit terrifying for the father of an only daughter.

After the longest minute of my life, my dad spoke directly to Roy. “And you… you like my daughter?”

Based on his wide-eyed stare, Roy was not prepared for such a blunt question. “Oh. Um, yeah, of course, I really fucking like her.” Somehow his eyes grew wider. “Shit. Sorry. I mean-” He screwed his eyes shut and let out a tiny growl. With a sigh, he opened his eyes again. “Yes, I like your daughter. A lot.”

Dad didn’t seem ready to let up. “And you treat her well?”

Roy shrugged. “I’d like to think so. I respect her and try to make sure she knows I care about her more than I’ve ever cared about anyone. I like making her laugh. And once she decides she’s sick of keeping us gaffers in line, I’ll support her whatever she ends up doing.”

My dad stared at Roy hard, his jaw set. Come on Dad, ease up, I prayed. Go back to worshipping the grass this man walks on. Remember the way you sobbed when he walked off the field during his last game. Remember how much you want me to be happy. Please.

Finally, my dad nodded slowly. “Alright then. Thank you for your honesty, Roy.” He took a long sip of his wine as the rest of the table stared at him expectantly. At last, he set down his glass. “So, how d’you think the Greyhounds’ odds are for avoiding relegation this season?”

And that was it. The rest of the evening was a blur of laughter and stories and Roy getting second and third helpings of my mum’s pasta. By the time my mum brought out the pie, Roy and my dad had made plans to grab a drink later in the week to watch a football game together and my mum had promised to have us over for dinner again the following week. Roy’s face was full of relief as my mum gave him a hug and my dad shook his hand warmly.

“Was that so bad?” I teased once we were settled in the car.

He shrugged as he started the car, not hiding his smile. “I had a good time. Your parents are pretty great.”

I cleared my throat, keeping my eyes on the road. “Sorry about my dad, though. Not sure what came over him when we sat down.”

“Oh, come on,” he scoffed. “You’re his only daughter. I’m an old man who has something of a reputation. Can’t blame him for not loving the idea of us together.” His voice was thoughtful. “But I hope he believes me when I say I really fucking care about you.” He took my hand. “And I hope you believe it too.”

I turned to look at Roy, who was already glancing at me. “I do,” I assured him. “And I really care about you too.”

Turning his gaze back to the road, Roy nodded. “Good.” He paused for a moment, clearly thinking hard about something. “Just… please don’t tell your dad about our sleepovers. Because with my shit knee, he may be able to outrun me.”

“Oh no, Roy. He could definitely outrun you.”

~

“Here you go, dear.”

“Thanks, Rose,” I murmured, taking my drink from her. I turned back to Roy. “Alright. Now you can tell me about practice.”

Roy sipped his beer. “Actually, I had something I’ve been thinking about lately that I wanted to ask you about.”

I tilted my head at him. “Anything wrong?”

“Well…” Roy bobbled his head a bit. “Just thinking about how unfair it is that I’ve met your family twice now, but you haven’t met mine.” He glanced at me, playful suspicion in his eyes. “Unless you’re one of those women who thinks it should be all your family all the time and my family can go fuck off a cliff?”

Puzzled but intrigued, I leaned forward. “Absolutely not. Did you have something in mind?”

He tapped the side of his beer bottle. “’ve been promising Phoebe I’d take her to see this fucking stage production of The Sound of Music on Friday. Take her out to ice cream or some shit after. You want to join us?”

While he spoke in that disinterested voice he often used, I could sense the apprehension beneath it. He wanted me to say yes so badly, to be excited to meet the most important person in his life. To be interested in every part of his life, not just football. This would be a key moment in our relationship, and Roy obviously knew it.

“That sounds great,” I gushed, taking his hand. “If I’m being honest, I’ve really been looking forward to meeting Phoebe.”

“She’s dying to meet you too, actually.” He rolled his eyes, as if he wasn’t talking about his precious little niece who was the absolute light of his life. “Been bugging the shit out of me about it ever since I first told her about you.”

A flutter ran through my heart. “You talk about me to Phoebe?”

“Fucking course. Don’t tell her, but that little idiot’s probably my best friend.”

“Don’t let Jamie hear you say that,” I warned with a grin. “He’ll get jealous.”

Predictably, Roy bared his teeth at me. “I’ve told you a million fucking times, Jamie Tartt is not my best friend. He’s not even my friend. I fucking hate that prick. I want to cut his face off and hang it up as a Halloween decoration so I don’t have to pass out candy to fucking trick or treaters.”

“Wow, your best man speech at Jamie’s wedding is gonna suck.”

Despite his best attempt at annoyance, I could see the grin Roy was trying to fight. “Do I have to do that shit where I kiss you just to shut you up?”

I shrugged. “Can’t guarantee it’ll work. But you’re very welcome to try.”

~

Work that Friday seemed to go in slow motion. It took all my restraint to stop myself from asking Roy a million questions about Phoebe, what she liked, what she knew about me (about us, really), how to make a good impression on her. Instead, I scurried around making sure Ted had a Spanish-to-English dictionary available for a Zoom call he had late in the day and giving Rebecca a non-answer when she asked about my weekend plans.

Finally, Roy and I packed up our things and hopped into his still ridiculous car, stopping at his place to change into what he told me Phoebe called “fancy theatre clothes” before finally going to his sister’s place to pick up Phoebe.

Shit, is this how Roy felt at my parents’? I asked myself as I shook Dr. O’Sullivan’s hand. Of course, I knew her face from the photos of her at Roy’s place, but God, she was beautiful in person. And the smile she wore told me that Roy had definitely mentioned me at least once or twice.

“Is Phoebe fucking ready or what?” Roy sighed after introductions had been made.

“Uncle Roy! Uncle Roy!”

A blur of blonde and pink launched itself at Roy, nearly toppling him over. Phoebe clung to her uncle and gazed up at him, her face full of that love that a small child had for her hero. My entire body melted at the sight of this little girl in a pink dress hugging him tight. Feeling like I was being watched, I glanced over at Roy’s sister, who was looking at me with a pensive expression. We exchanged soft smiles before both turning our attention back to Phoebe.

Roy crouched by Phoebe, ignoring the small crack coming from his leg as he did so, and gestured towards me. “Phoebe, this is-”

Before Roy could finish, Phoebe hurled herself at me, giving me a tight hug. “Oh my gosh. I’m so excited to finally meet you!” Her smile was infectious. “My uncle Roy really likes you.”

“No shit, Phoebe,” Roy growled. “Let’s get going. If you make me miss the opening song, I’ll leave you there and you can become another Von Trapp brat.”

During the ride to the theater, Phoebe asked me a million questions: about my job, my friends, my family, my flat, and what I thought the best ice cream flavors were. In turn, I learned about her school, her friends, her mother, which of her stuffed animals were her favorite, and all the things she loved about her Uncle Roy. By the time we’d found our seats in the theatre, Phoebe was holding my hand like we were the best of friends and begging Roy to let her sit next to me, since he got to sit next to me in the car.

“It’s only fair,” I pointed out to Roy, who smiled and rolled his eyes in that goofy way that made my knees go weak.

The first act of the show was as wonderful as I expected. Phoebe was entranced the entire time, and on her other side I could see Roy mouthing along to every song. We locked eyes a few times, especially when Maria and Captain von Trapp were onstage together. Each time we exchanged bashful smiles, as if we were kids with crushes rather than two adults in a fairly serious relationship.

At intermission, we found seats in the lobby. Roy headed to the line at the bar to get us something to drink, leaving Phoebe and I alone.

“Are you enjoying the show?” I asked, offering her my softest smile.

“Very much,” she said. “Uncle Roy’s made me watch the film about a million times, so we know all the songs. Do you like it?”

I nodded. “It’s one of my favorite movies, too. Can I tell you a secret?” Phoebe nodded earnestly, clearly excited to learn something so important. “I nearly always cry when Maria and Captain von Trapp admit they love each other.”

Phoebe giggled good-naturedly. “My uncle Roy reminds me of Captain von Trapp. Always yelling, but he’s really very nice.” She gazed up at me, a pondering look on her little face before she broke into a huge grin. “I guess that makes you Maria!” My tongue was suddenly too tied to reply, so she continued. “You know, Uncle Roy talks about you all time.”

Clearly, this was the topic Phoebe was most interested in. “And what does your Uncle Roy say about me?” I asked, humoring her.

“Well, the first time he talked about you, he was telling my mum that you had started working at Richmond and he was kind of mad that he had to share his office with you. But then Mummy asked if you were pretty, and he told her to shut up, but he was smiling.” She thought for a moment. “He also says you’re very nice and very smart and that the team would fall apart without you. And he told me that being nice to you is very important because you’re his girlfriend.” She glanced down at her sparkly shoes. “Uncle Roy never introduces me to his girlfriends.”

Part of me knew I should change the subject, but the part of me that turned into a giggling teenage girl whenever I thought about Roy couldn’t resist. “No?”

She shook her little head as she looked back up at me. “No. But my mum says you’re different. She thinks Uncle Roy is going to marry you someday. Would you let me be your flower girl?”

Before I could manage a response, Roy appeared, holding three glasses. “Here. Shirley Temples.” He handed one to each of us. “Don’t fucking spill on your dress,” he warned Phoebe. He sat down beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “What were you two chatting about?”

Of course, Phoebe pipped up before I could open my mouth. “Our favorite songs in the play. Mine’s The Lonely Goatherd.”

“That’s a shit choice,” Roy snorted.

While he went on a rant about why Edelweiss was a perfect song, I turned my gaze to Phoebe, who was already smiling up at me knowingly. Something in my heart warmed with the realization that I had made a new little friend.

~

The rain pitter-pattered against the window as I folded the laundry I’d managed to avoid for a couple of days. Some cheesy movie played on the television, more for background noise than anything else. My mind was occupied with thoughts of the weekend before, when we’d taken Phoebe on our second outing together: the zoo. She’d been thrilled to hold both our hands and explain everything she knew about each animal; she was especially excited to tell me all about how her Uncle Roy reminded her of the giant gorilla in its enclosure when it banged on the glass.

As if he knew I was thinking about him, Roy interrupted my thoughts with a phone call.

“Hey,” I greeted casually, pretending my heart didn’t skip a beat every time his name lit up my mobile screen.

“What’re you up to today?” he asked in lieu of a greeting.

I lowered the volume on the television. “Told you, I’m having my girlfriends over to have a proper catchup and grabbing drinks with them. I haven’t seen them since before Paris and I feel like I’ve been a shit friend since I started at Richmond.” Since you decided to take up my every waking thought.

“That’s not til tonight, right?”

Onscreen, the two romantic leads began their big blowout argument that threatened to break them up. “Yeah. But I’ve gotta tidy up a bit.” My curiosity got the better of me. “Why?”

“Got an errand to run and wanted your help.”

My curiosity increased. “What sort of errand?” I tucked my mobile between my face and shoulder so I could resume folding.

Roy sighed. “Phoebe’s been bugging her mum about getting a fucking dog, but there’s no fucking way my sister has time for one. So, I was thinking I might as well go down to the pound and get one myself so she can shut up already.”

I scoffed. “I’m sorry, you’re going to adopt a dog just to make your adorable little niece happy?”

There was a pause on Roy’s end. “Yes. That a problem?”

A smile crept across my face. “No. Just trying to figure out what Nora Ephron movie you walked out of.”

“Fuck you.” I could hear Roy’s smile through the phone. “You take that shit back.”

“Nope,” I insisted, my grin growing. “Sorry, you’re a regular Billy Crystal now.”

Now he scoffed, clearly offended. “Billy Crystal? Really? Can’t I at least be Tom fucking Hanks?”

Damn, I love a man who knows his rom-com leads. “If it’ll make you happy, fine. You’re Tom Hanks. Congrats.” I remembered the reason for Roy’s call. “So, why’re you asking me to go with you to get the dog? Not that I mind, but shouldn’t it be Phoebe? She’s the reason you’re getting one to begin with.”

There was a long pause on Roy’s end. With a deep breath, he mumbled, “Well, I kind of wanted to surprise her the next time she comes over. And I also kind of figured… I dunno, you’re my girlfriend and you’re here all the time, you’re gonna see the fucking dog a lot, I wanna make sure you like it too.” He paused a moment. “You could even help me name it and shit. If I let Phoebe name it, I’ll have a dog called Princess Sparkle Rainbow or something equally fucked.”

It wasn’t a big request; just go help Roy pick out a dog, maybe pop in a pet shop to get toys and food and a collar, talk him out of naming it “Fuckface” or some name Phoebe wouldn’t be allowed to say. An easy Saturday morning. If anyone else in the world was asking, it’d be an easy “Sure” and I’d have my shoes on already. But because it was Roy asking, the invitation to join him felt heavier, like it held some meaning other than “Come keep me company”. He wanted my opinion on this multi-year commitment he was making to whatever dog he found; that meant he expected me to stick around for a while, right?

Maybe Phoebe wasn’t so off base when she divulged her mother’s thoughts about Roy and me.

“Sure, Roy,” I answered after what was probably too long of a pause. “I’d love to help you pick a dog.”

Half an hour later I heard that familiar knock at my door. When I opened it, Roy immediately leaned forward to peck my cheek before he entered my flat, twirling his keys in his hand.

“You ready then?”

I nodded, closing the door behind him. “Just need to grab my shoes.” He lingered near the door as I quickly ran to my room to put on some trainers. When I came back, Roy was snickering to himself. “What?”

He shrugged, trying to compose himself. “Nothin’. I just really like your sweatshirt.”

Confused, I glanced down. Dark blue AFC Richmond sweatshirt, one of a million I’d collected over the years. This one, my usual go-to, was pretty simple, with just a small Richmond logo above my heart. It wasn’t like Roy hadn’t seen me wear one a million times at this point, especially on game days.

“The fuck are you on about?” I asked, feeling like I was missing an obvious joke.

Biting his lip, Roy grabbed my arm and pulled me close. “It’s honestly kinda hot seeing you wear my name.”

Oh. Despite the sweater being my favorite, I had found it that morning hung in the back of my closet, untouched in quite a while. Now it made sense why: Roy’s last name and number were emblazoned on the back in large white letters. I hadn’t even noticed when I tugged it on after my shower, especially since I had no plans to see Roy that day.

My cheeks warmed with the reminder that not too long ago, I was just an adoring fan. But Roy’s tightening grip on me brought me back to the moment.

“I’ll just go change really quick,” I breathed, trying to focus on anything but Roy’s hand that had moved firmly to the small of my back.

He shook his head, eyes burning into mine. “Absolutely fucking not. I like seeing my name on you.”

I managed an awkward chuckle. “Come on, Roy. Me wearing your name while I’m out with you in public might be asking for a little bit of trouble, hmm? All it takes is one picture and bam, front page of some rag tomorrow morning.”

Roy stared at me for a moment, his grip softening slightly on my back. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Was that a tinge of disappointment in his voice? If it was, he quickly recovered, adding, “That sweater should be your new pyjamas at my place. Let me see you in it more often.”

“Deal,” I agreed, kissing his cheek before dashing my room to put on a more inconspicuous sweater.

In the car, Roy told me all about Phoebe’s great longing for a dog. She was constantly looking up photos of different kinds of dogs, only wanted dog stuffed animals when out shopping, and had a very long list of possible dog names scribbled in her diary. Despite his ever-constant scowl, I could see the delight in Roy’s eyes when he talked about how “fucking feral” his niece would go once he introduced her to the dog.

At the shelter, Roy got plenty of double takes from employees, but he ignored them, completely focused on the pups in their kennels. He paused in front of one and knelt down beside it. After staring intensely into the crate for a moment, he waved for me to join him.

“What d’you think?”

The medium-sized dog was clearly a mix of about a few different breeds and his black fur looked like he desperately needed a wash. More importantly, his eyes were bright and eager, and he jumped as best he could in his confinement as he gazed at Roy.

I couldn’t help my smile. “I think this might be him.”

An older employee brought us and the dog to a small side yard where we could see him outside the kennels. He immediately jumped on Roy, licking his hands with excitement. Then he turned his attention to me, laying his paws on my thighs. For about five minutes, Roy and I tossed around a toy, watching the dog run around to find it and bring it back to one of us.

After the millionth successful round of fetch, the employee spoke up. “It’s amazing, he’s usually a bit of a grouch. Not aggressive,” she clarified. “But he’s not usually this friendly.” She smiled at us. “He must like you two.”

I turned to Roy, who was on the ground with the dog. “So? You want to take him?”

He gazed up at me as he scratched the dog behind his ears. “Do you like him?”

From the look in Roy’s eye, I knew the answer to that question mattered just as much- maybe even more- than what Roy himself thought of the dog. The idea caused my heart to skip a beat, another reminder that I really mattered to this man.

“I kind of love him already,” I admitted with a chuckle, reaching down to give the dog a pet. “But it’s your choice.”

He nodded, a smile slowly forming. “Yeah, I think he’s the one.”

We spent another five minutes sitting on the grass with the dog, tossing names back and forth, rejecting classics like Max or Fido, deciding against naming him after any footballers, and me forbidding Roy from using any swear words in the name.

Finally, I felt the lightbulb switch on in my brain. “Oscar.”

Roy furrowed his thick eyebrows. “Oscar?”

“For Oscar the Grouch,” I explained, as if it were obvious. “Phoebe told me the two of you always joke that you’re basically Oscar the Grouch. And this guy is supposed to be a grouch, but he loves us. Just like-” I stopped, knowing the next words that almost tumbled out:

Just like how you’re a grouch, but you love me.

Right?

Roy nodded, understanding what I meant. “Oscar,” he murmured. He patted the dog on its side. “What d’you think, fella? Feel like you can live with being called Oscar?”

Immediately, the dog sat down, gazing at Roy expectantly.

“Guess his name’s Oscar,” Roy agreed, his smile widening as he looked at me.

~

By the time we bought everything Oscar would need for his first few days at home and I helped Roy set his house up, I had to hurry home and finish getting my flat ready for my friends. Roy drove me home and walked me up, his arm wrapped lazily around my shoulders.

“Thank you again,” he said once we reached my door. “I really appreciate you helping me find Oscar. I think Phoebe’s going to fucking love him.” He leaned against the wall, looking at me carefully. “So, your friends are coming over, huh?”

I nodded, fiddling with my keys. “Yeah, we’re going to meet here, then head out to grab a drink. It’ll be nice to catch up with each other.” I shoved Roy playfully. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell them about how Roy Kent and I have regular sleepovers.”

He stared at me for a long moment, then let out a small huff of a laugh. “Hmm. Yeah, guess you shouldn’t.” His eyes lingered again. “Why don’t I pick you up from the bar once you’re finished? You can spend the night. Help me with Oscar tomorrow.”

“Oh, Roy, I dunno what time we’ll be done, I couldn’t ask-”

“I want you to ask,” he interrupted bluntly. “I don’t want you driving home if you’ve been drinking or getting a ride from someone who has. And I don’t want you taking a fucking Uber when you have a boyfriend who is more than willing to give you a ride home. Even if you make fun of my car.” He held my chin tenderly. “Alright?”

I melted into his touch, unable to look away from the look of intense affection in his eyes. Roy Kent wants to take care of me. And I wanted to let him.

“Alright,” I whispered bashfully, trying not to grin too hard. I stood on tiptoe and gave him a small kiss. “I’ll call you when I’m ready to come home.” I paused. “I mean, when I’m ready to be picked up.”

He nodded. “Good.” He gave me one more quick kiss. “Be safe, alright?”

Of course I’d be safe. It was just me and two of my close friends from school, women I’d known for what felt like forever. I had just tucked away a photo of Roy and me in Paris when I heard a commotion outside my door. When I opened it, I was tackled from both sides- Carly and Allison.

We squealed like children as we hugged and chattered about how good each other looked and how mad we were that we’d gone so long without hanging out together. We sat on my couch for a bit, gossiping about old schoolmates and the things they overshared on social media, before finally getting up and piling into Allison’s car to find a pub not too far from my place. Once we had settled a high-top table, drinks in front of us, we were ready to properly catch up.

“So, how’s life at Richmond?” Allison asked, emphasizing the team name the way all our dads always did. “The team’s actually winning these days!”

I shook my head. “It’s amazing. Believe it or not, the American knows what he’s doing. And he’s honestly the nicest guy in the world.”

Carly leaned forward, clearly already feeling her drink. “And is Jamie Tartt really that pretty in person?”

A snort caught in my throat. “Oh, Jamie’s beautiful,” I assured her. “And his very serious girlfriend Keeley is otherworldly gorgeous and the kindest person I’ve ever met. Sorry.”

Allison nudged me. “Who’s single, then? Because I am obsessed with Dani Rojas. That accent, that hair.” She fanned herself with a napkin.

“Or what about Isaac McAdoo? The things I would let that man do to me…” Carly purred.

I couldn’t help laughing. “Oh God. I’ve seen these guys puke after being run too hard at practice or with bloody noses because someone kicked a ball wrong or playing a game of ‘the floor is lava’ in the changing room or drooling in their sleep on the way home from away games. These are not sexy to men to me.”

“Oh, I know what the problem is,” Allison hummed, shooting me a wink. “She’s got eyes for a certain coach.”

My cheeks warmed. “Dunno what you’re talking about,” I answered, taking a sip of my drink and hoping I looked casual.

Allison rolled her eyes. “Come off it, we’ve all seen the shrine. Hell, I bought you some of those posters.”

“If you marry him, you’ll be just like Princess Kate with her William poster!” Carly giggled.

I turned to Carly. “You know Kate said that never actually happened, right?” I asked, trying to shift focus.

Allison caught my game. “Don’t change the subject! Come on, give us the details. Does Roy Kent, love of your life, know you exist?” She shot me a playful wink.

Despite my flushing face at the sound of his name, I snorted. “He better fucking know I exist, we share an office. We eat lunch together almost every day.”

“What’s he like?” Carly asked dreamily.

I paused. I couldn’t tell them about us dating, but surely that didn’t mean I couldn’t tell them about the Roy Kent I knew. “He’s… surprising,” I finally murmured. “He’s actually very kind and thoughtful. Like if he grabs himself breakfast on his way to work, he usually brings me something. He’s got this little niece he absolutely dotes on, and she positively worships him. And fuck, Roy Kent was a great athlete, but I can’t even begin to describe him as a coach. The man’s kind of brilliant but refuses to take any credit for the team’s success. And he’s funny as hell. Very sharp and witty.” I stopped, realizing that I was completely gushing at this point.

My friends stared at me with looks filled with a mix of surprise, fondness, and a bit of pity.

Allison finally spoke. “Fuck, this goes beyond the posters and teenage idol worship. You’re actually in love with the man.”

I rolled my eyes. “Stuff it. So, I’m a bit attracted to him, big whoop. People get little crushes on their coworkers all the time and do nothing about it. It’s not a big deal.” We’re just in a full-blown relationship. No big deal.

“But most people don’t work with someone they have twenty-seven posters of in their bedroom,” Allison pointed out, giggling over her drink.

Carly sat up. “Twenty-eight,” she corrected. “Don’t forget the shirtless poster in her closet that she was hiding from her dad.”

My jaw dropped at the betrayal from my friends. “You’re both off your rockers,” I scoffed. “Roy Kent’s a nice guy, we’re friends, end of story.”

Somehow, I managed to get the girls to find other topics to focus on. At some point I lost count of how many drinks we’d had; it was easy to lose track when having fun with friends. Once I could feel our energy start to fade, I took out my mobile and shot Roy a quick text telling him where I was.

On my way, he answered.

Once our tab was paid, we headed out of the pub, with me assuring my friends that I had a ride, hoping they would assume I had ordered an Uber. They wouldn’t be thinking that once we actually stepped outside, though.

There was Roy, leaning against his stupidly giant black car, looking every bit like my personal teenage fantasy in his tight black jeans with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. His face lit up when he saw me, as if I were a Victoria’s Secret model and not his girlfriend stumbling out of a pub.

“Need a ride?” he called out casually; he knew exactly how sexy he looked and was really leaning into it. Prick.

The amount of alcohol in my system was enough to make me forget everything except how fucking happy I was to see him. I ran at Roy and jumped on him, enveloping him in a giant hug. He chuckled and wrapped an arm around me casually, mumbling “Fucking hello to you, too” into my hair.

My friends’ faces were a jumble of shock, giddiness, and a giant helping of confusion. Their eyes darted back and forth between Roy and me, waiting for some sort of explanation.

Keeping his arm around my shoulder even after I’d let go of him, Roy offered the smallest of smiles to my friends. “Hi. ’m Roy.” He gave a little wave, as if they somehow had no clue who he was. He nodded towards me. “I’m giving this one a ride home if that’s alright.”

Mouths slightly agape, the girls nodded. Still feeling tipsy, I waved to them. “G’night!” As Roy opened the door and placed his hand on my waist to help me into the car, I looked up at him, a dopey, lovesick expression on my face. “Roy?”

“Hmm?” His smile was softer than I’d ever seen it.

“You know I exist, right?”

He nodded, looking at me like I was some magical thing instead of a very sloshed woman. “Yes, I know you exist. Now get in the fucking car before I have to throw you in, hmm?”

Roy managed to get me in the car and then managed to not kick me out of it despite my incessant talking the entire ride back to his place. Instead, he walked me inside and helped me change into one of his sweaters, the one I loved to sleep in. While he changed himself into his sweats, I sat cross-legged on the floor, petting a very sleepy Oscar, now drunkenly explaining to Roy why Paul McCartney was the best Beatle.

As I expressed how much I loved “I Saw Her Standing There”, Roy joined me on the floor, watching me with admiration in his eyes. He absently rubbed Oscar behind the ears, nodding and offering small “Uh-huhs” from time to time.

“You going to kiss me so I can fucking shut up already?” I joked, realizing that he’d never let me go uninterrupted for this long.

Instead, he shook his head. “Nah. I like listening to you.” He paused, his face turning thoughtful. “I really fucking like listening to you.”

I leaned forward and kissed his face. “Thanks,” I murmured, my body now buzzing from the look in his eye rather than the alcohol.

His face screwed up, like he was debating something. “I love you, you know,” he finally breathed. “Like, I really fucking love you.” His shoulders tensed as he stared at me, waiting for me to say something, anything.

Roy Kent loves me. Roy fucking Kent loves me. Roy Kent fucking loves me.

“Holy shit. I love you too,” I blurted, my heart hammering. I blinked a few times. “Wait, you really said that right? I’m not just that drunk?”

Roy’s entire body relaxed, and he laughed so loud he made Oscar jump. “Yeah, I really fucking said that, you sloshed little muppet.” He leaned forward and planted a kiss on my lips. “I love you,” he mumbled against my mouth. “I absolutely fucking love you.”

~

When I woke up the next morning, Oscar was in his bed, but Roy wasn’t in his. With a small hum, I got up and headed downstairs, where I found Roy sitting on the couch and reading. He gave a small salute when I walked in with the dog at my heels.

“Mornin’,” he greeted, scooting over so I could sit beside him. He pecked my cheek. “Sleep well?”

Despite my giant yawn, I nodded. “Yourself?”

“I always sleep well when you’re here,” he answered nonchalantly, eyes returning to his book. “You hungry?”

I shook my head. “Could go for some tea though.”

He started to get up. “Let me put the kettle on.”

“I’ve got it,” I insisted, standing back up. “You keep reading-” I glanced at the title. “The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe?”

“Phoebe roped me into her fucking book club,” he grumbled, turning the book so he could glance at the yellow lion on the cover. “We’re doing the whole series. You want in?”

I chuckled. “Sure.” As I turned to head to the kitchen, he grabbed my arm.

“Hey,” he said softly, looking up at me. “I love you.”

Color flooded my cheeks as I smiled down at him. “I love you too.”

He nodded. “Just… wanted to make sure you heard me say it when you’re sober.” He leaned back and returned to his book. “Go on, then.” His eyes flickered up playfully as I made my way into the kitchen put some water on. While I waited for the water, I could hear ping ping ping from the next room.

“No fucking shit,” I could hear Roy exclaim.

Curious, I grabbed my own mobile and looked at it. Despite it being early on Sunday morning, there were several texts on the thread between Ted, Beard, Rebecca, Roy, and myself.

We got Vargas!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The following messages were all emojis and gifs sent by Ted, a simple thumbs-up emoji from Beard, and several smiley faces from Rebecca. I rushed into the living room, where Roy was gazing at his mobile. He raised his eyebrows at me.

“This is fucking huge,” he said. “I mean, this deal was more Beard’s doing, I don’t know fuck all about the guy, but my understanding is that Vargas is supposed to be a big fucking deal very fucking soon.”

I nodded, scrolling through the still-incoming texts. “I can tell,” I chuckled. My mind was already running, thinking about all the things I’d have to get done on Monday: helping Keeley schedule a press conference, making sure Will was on top of things in the changing room, getting Ted a new Spanish-English dictionary, because goodness knows he’d already lost the one I’d just bought him.

As if he could feel my to-do list building in my head, Roy waved me over. “Get over here,” he grumbled. “We’re gonna have a fucking busy week, so let’s just be lazy today, yeah?”

A lazy day with Roy. Roy, who drove me home when I was drunk and wanted me to help pick his dog. Roy who loved me.

“That sounds great,” I agreed with a smile. “Let me just grab my tea.”

Once I had my cup in hand, I settled back onto the couch, tossing my legs over Roy’s lap. Oscar settled himself on the rug, clearly satisfied with his new living arrangements. Outside, I could hear the rain begin to pitter-patter as Roy rested a hand comfortably on my shin. A perfect, lazy day indeed.

“Oi, I picked you up one of those fucking rags when I was at the shop the other day,” Roy muttered, nodding towards the coffee table. “Clerk looked at me funny, the prick.”

I snorted and leaned forward to grab it. “Thank you for your sacrifice,” I retorted, flipping the gossip magazine open. We sat in happy silence as I turned the pages. Suddenly, a photo caught my eye, the sight making me choke on my tea.

Roy eyed me with mild concern. “Alright there?”

“Er, yeah.” I nodded. “I just, uh, I figured out where I know Dario Vargas from.”

“Oh?” Roy could not be less interested.

I folded the page back and handed the magazine to Roy. “I’ve seen him in paparazzi photos before. With his girlfriend.”

There, in full color, was a photograph of who I could only assume with Dario Vargas, with a sickeningly gorgeous woman on his arm. Below them was a simple caption: Football star Dario Vargas out for a night in Rome with supermodel Brittany Brett.

[withwritersblock]

Dog Days Are Over

~Dog Days Are Over by Florence + the Machine~

Author's Note: saw @kaleforcale888 say something about how he'd react after the game. I could write a thousand different versions but this feels SO Cale coded to me. Summary: Cale scores his first hat trick Warnings: mentions of bo byram being traded lol Word Count: 1,250 Cale Makar x fm!reader

For the past few games, Cale has struggled with his confidence. His entire career, he’s been seen as a superstar. Suddenly, for the first time in his professional career he hasn’t had a great game. He’s had several average games, not up to his personal level of where he needs to be. People were starting to think he was nursing an injury because of how he was playing. He was frustrated and disappointed in himself for how he was playing.

Sure, he got rid of his pointless streak but they were only secondary assists. He wanted more, he needed more. He wanted to contribute to the team and build back his own confidence. 

He left his house, stoked for the game giving Y/N a thousand kisses before he left the house. He wore a new suit, for a new Cale. Or rather Vintage Cale. It was a suit that Y/N picked out and he gladly wore it. If he plays well with it, he’ll happily add it to his rotation.

It was a beautiful ceremony before the game with the celebration of Darren Helm. The ceremonial puck drop with Nathan Mackinnon and JT Compher brought tears to her eyes. 

“Cale’s flying,” Gabe muttered to Y/N as he leaned his arms against the small table. For the night, Gabe was sitting with the wives and girlfriends of the players. His wife and kids were also in the suit hanging out. 

Not long after the Red Wings get on the board, Cale wrists one to the net and scores. The suit erupts into cheers.

“He’s back,” Gabe mumbled before he wandered towards his wife in the center of the suit. Y/N smiled to herself as she watched him skate towards the bench. A simply group celebration is all it took and he was back in the zone. He was pumped and ready to win.

The second period started and for the first nine minutes of the game it was back and forth but the boys were playing well and something was going to happen. Artturi scored to give the boys their first lead of the game. 

This was the best game she’s seen them play in a long time. It was the best game she’s seen Cale play in a long time.

With only three and half minutes left in the period, Cale fought hard around the net and scored another goal. “Oh my god,” Y/N muttered as her mouth fell open as she watched him smile for the first time during a celebration. She leaned her body against the table as she smiled and felt a bit of tears filling her eyes. “He’s back,” she mumbled to herself, knowing that he was finally back to who he sees himself to be. He was confident. He was Cale Makar.

They were up by two and on the powerplay. She intently watched Cale pass the puck to Mikko and see him wait for the pucks return. Mikko sends it back as Cale holds for a few seconds before letting it rip towards the net. It was as if the puck went into the net in slow motion. She jumped up and cheered. At first she thought it was Artturi’s goal since he was near the net but hats starting flying onto the ice as Ball Arena was louder than it’s been in a long time.

“Was that Cale?” she found herself asking as her chest ached.

Gabe nodded with a huge smile on his face. She stared towards the ice as the hats continued to rain down and the jumbotron showed Cale smiling widely and talking with Mikko as they skated around the ice waiting for the hats to be collected. Her heart filled with so much admiration and joy as she watched him celebrate. Even if it was just a smile, it was more than he’s done in the past.

~~~

The boys ended up winning 7-2 and she was anxiously waiting outside the locker room for Cale to exit. It was a nightly routine for Cale to be the last one to emerge from the locker room but tonight was vastly different as he had more interviews and some social media obligations. 

She couldn’t wait to see him and was getting anxious as Nate walked out of the locker room wearing his warm up attire. He beamed towards Y/N, “He’s almost done,” he let out as he walked towards her giving her a hug. She gladly accepted it, “I knew he’d pull himself out of it,” he mumbled against her hair. He pulled away before he continued his walk out of the arena. 

After a few more anxious minutes, Cale emerged wearing a hoodie and sweatpants. She smiled when she saw him and quickly jogged towards him. He chuckled nervously as she wrapped her arms around her neck. He gladly wrapped his arms around her waist as he lifted her up into the air excitedly.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered into his ear. His cheeks were bright red as she pulled away, keeping her arms rested on his shoulders as his hands stayed looped around her waist. 

“The boys played really well,” he let out with his lips curled upward. She rolled her eyes playfully as she took a hold of his cheeks. 

“Stop being humble,” she muttered before she kissed him. He returned the kiss with urgency as he pulled her towards him. She pulled away, keeping her lips a mere inch away from his. “Be proud of yourself,” she let out before she kissed him again. 

“I guess it was pretty cool,” he mumbled as he pulled away, a toothy grin on his face. 

“You guess?” she teased as she ran her fingers through his hair. “It was incredible.” she let out.

His smile widened, the longer he looked into her eyes. He was trying to contain his excitement. “Yeah,” he mumbled, pressing his lips together. He pulled her against his chest again as he rocked her body back and forth. “It was a little unbelievable,” he muttered against her hair. He reluctantly released her from his grasp as they began walking towards the parking garage together.

“Comph came up to me after the game and gave me a hug,” he let out as they walked side by side, their hands interlocked. 

Her lips fell into a pout as it had been a difficult day filled with so many complex emotions. JT’s first game back at Ball Arena, Darren Helm ceremony, and Bo was traded away a few days prior. It was a bittersweet feeling.

“You’ve been overdue for a while now, Darling,” she mumbled as she knocked into him slightly. She began walking faster as she began dragging him towards their car, “We’ve got celebrating to do,” she mumbled. He raised his eyebrows, a shy smile forming to his lips. 

“Oh yeah?” he asked teasingly. She hummed as she pursed her lips forward.

His phone began to ring in his pocket and he pulled it out to see Bo was calling him. Cale smiled widely as he brought the phone to his ear.

“Caler congrats, man!” she heard Bo shout through the phone, she shook her head slightly a small chuckle leaving her lips. 

“Thank you,” he chuckled, “Have you met any of the guys over there yet?” Cale asked.

She rolled her eyes playfully. Cale always puts someone else first even on one of the best nights of his career.

[sydneyindawoodz]

More than a Legend🌺

Being related to a global superstar like John Legend came with its own unique set of challenges. For you, it meant always having eyes on you whenever you went out in public, but lately, there was only one person you cared about impressing: KK Arnold, a rising star in women’s basketball.

You and KK had met through mutual friends, and despite your different worlds—her basketball career and your celebrity-adjacent life—the two of you clicked instantly. There was something refreshing about how KK treated you like just you, not John Legend’s niece or cousin.

Still, your relationship wasn’t exactly public knowledge, and you had managed to keep it relatively low-key. But, of course, your family was always a little too eager to get involved.

It was a sunny afternoon, and you were lounging courtside at one of KK’s games, your heart racing every time she made a fast break or sank a three-pointer. Watching her play was mesmerizing, and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but stare a little too long whenever she flashed her confident smile in your direction.

"Y/N!" KK called out after the game, her face still flushed from the exertion, her eyes lighting up when she saw you waiting.

"Hey, superstar," you teased, walking over to greet her. "You killed it out there."

She grinned, wiping the sweat off her brow. "Thanks. I could tell you were watching me the whole time."

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool, but the blush creeping up your neck betrayed you. "Maybe."

KK gave you a playful shove. "I’m glad you came. It means a lot."

"Of course," you replied, your heart fluttering as you locked eyes with her. "I wouldn’t miss it."

As the two of you stood there, the rest of the world faded away, leaving just the two of you basking in the post-game glow. That was, until a voice you knew all too well interrupted the moment.

"Hey, kiddo!" John Legend’s unmistakable voice called from behind you.

You turned around, your eyes widening as you saw your uncle walking toward you, waving with that charming smile that millions knew so well. He was accompanied by Chrissy Teigen, who was, as always, radiating energy.

"Uncle John?" you said, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"We came to see your favorite basketball player," he said, giving you a knowing look. "And to meet her, of course."

KK, who had been standing beside you looking a little starstruck, gave a shy smile as she extended her hand. "It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Legend."

John shook her hand warmly, his smile genuine. "Please, call me John. I’ve heard a lot about you."

KK glanced at you, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Good things, I hope."

John chuckled. "All good things. Y/N can’t stop talking about you."

You groaned internally, giving your uncle a side-eye, but he just smiled back, clearly enjoying himself. Chrissy, meanwhile, leaned in with a wink. "Don’t worry, she’s told us everything."

KK raised an eyebrow, her grin widening. "Everything, huh?"

"Okay, this is enough," you interrupted, your cheeks burning as you shot your family a look. "I think it’s time we go."

John and Chrissy laughed, clearly loving every second of your embarrassment. "Alright, alright, we’ll leave you two alone," John said, giving KK a final nod. "Nice to meet you, KK. Take care of my niece, okay?"

KK, who had been surprisingly composed considering she was standing in front of John Legend, nodded confidently. "You can count on that."

As your family walked away, you let out a long breath. "I can’t believe they just showed up like that."

KK laughed, slinging an arm around your shoulder as the two of you began to walk out of the arena. "Honestly, I think it’s pretty cool. I mean, how many people can say John Legend approves of their relationship?"

You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. "Yeah, well, I guess it’s a good thing he likes you."

"He better like me," KK teased. "I’ve got to make sure I’m on his good side if I’m going to keep you around."

You laughed, leaning into her as you walked. "Don’t worry, you’re doing just fine."

As the two of you headed off together, you couldn’t help but feel like everything was falling into place. Sure, your life came with its own set of complications—having a world-famous uncle being one of them—but being with KK made it all worth it. She didn’t care about the fame or the celebrity connections. She just cared about you.

And in that moment, as you walked side by side, you knew you were exactly where you were meant to be.