#also we dont need to KNOW he was protecting Will to know he was protecting Will

[starry-bi-sky]

(Part of this post with older brother danyal al ghul)

...Okay, look. Sam knows she's staring. She knows very well that she is staring. And that if she doesn't stop staring it's gonna draw her unwanted attention, and that will only have to make her explain why she's staring. Which she doesn't want to do.

She's trying not to stare, which she thinks she should get brownie points for. She tries to look away, to find a spot on the wall to stare lifelessly at, maybe she can burn holes into some of these annoying socialites' heads. But eventually her eyes drift, and suddenly she's back to staring again.

Can you blame her though? Damian Wayne looks like a very close mini-me of her fucking best friend. Seriously, it's like looking into a mirror to the past. If that mirror to the past had green eyes rather than blue and a distinctive lack of a facial scar.

The first time she sees him when her parents drag her over to Bruce Wayne to butter up to him she has to do a doubletake. Then a triple take. Then a quadruple take, just for good measure that she was seeing what she was actually seeing. She was sure she looked like one of those stress toys that when squeezed had their eyes pop out comically like a Saturday morning cartoon, that's what she certainly felt like anyways.

Look, Danny's come a decent way from being that scowl-y, jerkish little ten year old she first met when he arrived like the wind to Amity Park five years ago (even if he was still occasionally scowl-y and jerkish), but one thing that's stayed the same is how reserved he is about his home life prior to being taken in by the Fentons.

He doesn't talk about it much, and Sam's come to know that he's very good at changing the subject when it gets brought up. Even after being friends for nearly four years, the only thing she and Tuck know for certain is that he has a little brother that he refers to as 'starlight', whom he cares a lot about but left on really bad terms with. And that he's never met his father, but wants to and knows who he is.

He's never told her or Tucker who he was though, and glancing at Bruce Wayne, Sam is realizing why. She can begrudgingly acknowledge all the good he's done for Gotham, but... well, if Danny told her that Bruce Wayne was his dad, she wouldn't have believed him at all.

But she's starting to see the resemblance, as subtle as it is.

And she sees the resemblance to Damian Wayne, her eyes dropping back down to him as he wears a very Danny-like scowl on his face, arms crossed behind his back as his eyes swept around the ballroom. He was five years younger than Danny, and god it was so, so weird.

His eyes turned on to her, and they locked gazes for a moment.

Involuntarily, Sam makes a startled noise and looks away. Fingers tap against her purse, black and purple and unfortunately a clutch that only held her phone and her wallet in it. She would have kept a knife on her, but her parents put their foot down and there was a security detail at the door. Only in Gotham.

Silently, she was hoping that the little Danny-me didn't say anything. Or at least, he hadn't noticed her staring. Which was a tall order if she ever heard one -- and unfortunately, her silent prayers went unanswered as her mother's eyes dropped down onto her.

"Did you say something, Samantha?" She asks in a sickeningly sweet voice, a sound that makes Sam's skin crawl. Her dad and Bruce Wayne's attention also turns onto her, and she glowers at her mom from the corner of her eye.

"I didn't say anything." Sam says, barely keeping her tone polite as she turned her head away. Her mother clucks her tongue, disapproving, but from her peripherals doesn't pester her more

Bruce Wayne, the bastard, takes that time to turn to Sam and grace her with his dime-a-dozen billboard smiles. "I've been talking with your parents this whole time, Miss Manson, you must be terribly bored. How is your schooling going?"

Sam eyes him up and down. On one hand, she immediately wants to be snarky. It's none of his business what her school life is like, she doesn't care for his fucking small talk.

On the other hand, this was Danny's whole father. Someone who she knows that Danny has wanted to meet for, what she's assuming, his whole life. He's never brought it up much, but she remembers that very quiet, solemn conversation she and Tucker had with him where he admits to having never met his dad. But god does he want to.

And... wait. Sam's eyes narrow, and she meets Bruce Wayne's eyes. Does this man even know Danny exists? She drops her gaze down to Damian, who was staring at her suspiciously, and then back up to Bruce, and she alternates between them.

Why was Damian living with Bruce, but not Danny? Why hasn't Bruce done anything to reach out to him - what was going on with Danny's biological family that Danny had to be separated from them, but not Damian? Danny's always been kinda mysterious, but now things weren't adding up.

Was Danny given up? Does Bruce just not want Danny, but wanted Damian? Why the fuck does Bruce Wayne know about Damian but not her best friend -- or does he know and just not care? He's fought for custody for his adoptive kids before, does he just not want to fight for his other biological son? Does he think Danny's not worth it?

She's never cared much about the Wayne family before, other than to hear about the advancements on WE's eco-friendly tech, but Sam thinks she's gonna have to look into why Damian Wayne was living with the Waynes.

Slowly, with a protective anger beginning to burn in her gut and crawl up her throat, a scowl slowly curls at the corner of her lip as she redirects her glare from her mother onto Bruce. "It's going fine," She says curtly, jutting her chin out defiantly. "Me and my friend Danny started a petition to fix the leaky faucets in the girls and boys' bathrooms in order to conserve more water for the rest of the city."

She eyes his face, waiting to see if anything like recognition flashes through it. And- and nothing. Sam breathes in slowly through her nose, trying to quell the red that's blurring the edge of her vision -- does he just, not know where Danny is?

Her parents however, make vaguely displeased expressions. "Our Samantha is... quite passionate about her pet projects." Her dad says, laughing low and nervously, "she's very vocal about silly things like that."

"Her friend Daniel is perhaps even worse than she is sometimes." Her mother adds on, fanning her face with her perfectly manicured hands with a sigh. "I swear, he's the one that keeps dragging her into these things."

Sam's anger turns on its head, and she whirls on her heel like a fire-breathing dragon. "It's Danyal." It rolls out like instinct. Danny's told them both that he hates the Americanized pronunciation of his name, but in a rare moment of restraint, puts up with it for reasons unknown to her. "And Danny doesn't make me do anything, it was my idea."

The name, Danyal, seems to ring some kind of bell in Brucie Wayne's head, because she sees him and Damian quietly perk up like two cats pricking up their ears. Her eyes flick onto him immediately, something dangerous rearing its head. So Bruce Wayne knows about Danny. And he's not reaching out to him. Is he? She's not sure.

She does know that she's gonna rip his throat out if she finds out that he's known about Danny this entire time and has been ignoring him while favoring his little brother. She'll hunt down Aragon herself and steal his dragon-shifting amulet and wreck house on Bruce Wayne if that's the case. Batman and his league of vigilantes be damned. Her parents don't notice her slowly turning head towards Bruce.

But Bruce does, and she makes direct eye contact with him. His smile doesn't falter, he just tilts his head like a curious puppy and looks at Sam's parents. She hopes Bruce can read minds, she hopes he can hear her threatening him.

"Danyal?" He asks, and Sam doesn't know if she hates the fact that he said it correctly or not. She just continues burning holes into him and hoping he might spontaneously combust.

Her mother waves her hand dismissively, tilting her nose up poshly into the air. "Our dear Samantha's little... foster friend from school," she says, not even bothering to hide her disdain, "a creepy little boy with the most garish scar on his face. He's a rude little thing, not good for polite company."

Scratch that, Sam mentally alternates between ripping into her parents and Bruce. She whirls on them. "Do not talk about Danny that way." She all but snarls, and they all but ignore her.

(She's tearing up the upholstery when she gets home. She's going to paint over the fine china. She's going to do something to make them pay for this.)

"Oh yes, he was taken in by that freaky Fenton family a few years ago." Her dad continues in lieu of her mom, and they both shake their heads disapprovingly. "It's just what our city needs, another menace."

"Danny is not a menace." Sam continues, raising her voice while her hands shake with rage. Her parents finally look at her, but she can already tell that they're going to scold her for raising her voice. She bulldozes over them and jabs her black-painted finger at them. "He's got a bigger heart than the both of you combined."

"Samantha, please." her mom says, exasperated. They both give her disapproving looks, Sam thinks about grabbing champagne off the tray of a nearby waiter and throwing it in their faces. "You defend that boy far too much. What do you actually know about him and his family?"

Sam sets her jaw, puffing herself up like a dragon protecting its hoard. She steps into her mom's space. "I know that he loves the stars; you can ask him anything about astronomy and he could give you an entire lecture on the formation, class types, and various gasses that stars are made up of. He can tell you how the Earth was formed, he can tell you about the visible light spectrum and about light curves, and a whole ton of other stuff that I don't really understand. But Danny loves talking about it."

Her face twists and scowls, "I know he cares a ton about the environment and about fixing light pollution, and preserving the forests and natural habitats of animals." She nearly jabs her finger into her mom's chest, "I know he loves dogs, and that there's one he feeds every day on the way to school that he calls Cujo, its a St. Bernard puppy and Danny carries him around whenever he sees him after school, and is in the middle of training him."

It's not a total lie, but it's not the whole truth either. Cujo doesn't need food, but Danny gives him it anyways. "I know he likes spicy food and loves movies but specifically only sci-fi and horror, and he hates most martial arts movies. His favorite superhero is the Martian Manhunter, but Batman comes in at a close second." For reasons to her that were pretty unknown, but it didn't matter.

"I know he loves wordplay and making puns, which I would have never expected from him when we first met, but it's so unbelievably Danny-like that I can't imagine him not making puns." And she smiles a little to herself, she remembers the first time Danny intentionally made a pun once and it got startled laughs out of both her and Tucker.

Her smile suddenly falters, and she swallows. Her lips purse up, wobbling, and she very quickly glances over to Damian Wayne, of whom is watching her with a vaguely bewildered expression alongside Bruce.

She turns her eyes back onto her parents. "And I know that he worries a lot, even if he has a shit way of showing it. I know he had a little brother that he hasn't seen since he was adopted by the Fentons, and he doesn't talk about him often but when he does he he calls him 'starlight'." From the corner of her eye, she sees Damian jerk.

"So- so, so what if he's not 'good for polite company'." Sam's voice, embarrassingly, cracks down the middle. But she's so angry over Danny's behalf that she doesn't really care. "Or that he can be mean, and critical, and stubborn. He's learning, and he's becoming kinder by the day. That's more than I can say about you."

(She remembers when Danny finally admitted to her and Tucker being his 'closest friends'. It was sometime before the portal incident, and it felt like a milestone because beforehand he only really referred to them as his companions or allies.)

(At the time, he'd looked unsure of himself. Skittish like a stray in the back of an alleyway, almost shy in his own way. It had come out stilted, slow, like an infant taking its first steps, and it would have been endearing if it hadn't been heartbreaking.)

Her parents rear back like she'd struck them, and her mother holds a hand against her chest in aghast. Sam doesn't care, she blinks the sting out of her eyes. "Samantha." Her mother starts.

Sam cuts her off, "I don't care what you have to say, you-- you pricks." she snaps, around her, there are gasps. Belatedly, she realizes she's grown an audience, but again she doesn't care. "Danny might be an asshole, but he cares. And I'd rather be around someone whose mean but cares, than someone whose nice but doesn't."

With that, she whirls on her foot and turns on Bruce Wayne, who has been silent the entire time with a surprised expression on his face. He starts to shake out of it when Sam turns to him, but she doesn't give him the chance to speak. "Enjoy your party." She snarls, and then stalks away.

[twiggyrogue]

If it wasn't for the TMAGP ARG snippets I probably wouldn't be as obsessed about Sam but oh my goddd with what tiny we know about him I'm not over it. He's got a canon birthday (!!! He's 33 at the start of the show! It's p cool to know that tbh!) so we know when the Institute burned down, he was 9 year old. So at nine, maximum, he went through the Institute's child experiment. That's age he went through potentially a version of the Milgrim experiment! Mr. Spider whom, this child might have actively tortured someone because he was told to?? And that's probably the terrible event that was brought up in the interview but maybe it wasn't! Maybe it's something worse!! Oh no!!!

The guy scored the highest in empathy in the entire test group at 98% and now his job is experiencing other people's horrors like of course he can't help but look into them, of course he can't help but internalize them when Alice has warned him of what can happen, I'm so worried about this man!!!

[good-beanswrites]

Imagine if in OoA, Fuuta wasn't unconscious when Amane showed up during the initial attack. Better for Amane since she's not alone, but probably much worse for Fuuta since he's forced to watch helplessly.

So... prompt? 👉👈

OUGHGH what a concept... You would think the near-death experience is what's most traumatizing to him but no, it's the fact that, yet again, he couldn't be the hero that he thought he was... Thank you so much for the request and uuhh sorry I beat up your boy...

TW for violence/injury, nothing super gory but I did try to detail out Kotoko's canon attacks

He’s probably never even taken a hit in his life.

Kotoko’s fist connected solidly with Fuuta’s jaw. His vision sparked.

And anyway, it’s his own fault. He got himself into this mess.

Her knee jabbed into his gut, knocking the wind out of him before he could gain his bearings from the previous strike. Kotoko had appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the night. He’d been dragged out of bed with a cheap shot to his face.

The voices in his head spoke oblivious to the situation. He hardly processed a single word they said, the sound drowned out by the prisoners’ shouts. By the ringing in his ears. 

He’s so pathetic. 

By the crack of his own bones breaking. 

So weak.

By the choked sounds he could hardly recognize as his own. 

So cowardly.

The room dipped and darkened as his consciousness threatened to give out. His chest rattled with a struggling breath. Kotoko’s arm raised, and he got the feeling this blow would be the last.

Well, whatever happens, he did it to himself.

She paused. Something distracted her from behind. Fuuta was left in a heap, his body unresponsive to his mind’s desperate pleas to escape with this chance. The most he could do was angle his head to see what had blessed him with this moment of relief. 

It took only an instant for his gratefulness to sharpen into panic.

Just think of that poor, young girl. She had her whole life ahead of her.

Kotoko towered over her Amane. She had flattened herself against the cell door. The flickering fluorescents above cast a shadow across her face.

There was too much spinning inside – and blood outside – of Fuuta’s head to make any sense of what they were saying to one another. He got a pretty good idea when Kotoko lunged forward and struck the girl.

And now she’s dead. Because of him.

Fuuta tried to pick himself up. He had to stop this. More blood pooled around him, but he no longer cared. All he could focus on was the new splotches of red that Amane dabbed at with her uniform sleeve.

As hard as he willed himself to move, his limbs refused. He thought emergencies like this were supposed to give you newfound adrenaline. You were supposed to triumph over the pain, not succumb to it ripping through every inch of your being.

Does he think this is one of his stupid video games? This is real life. He’s nothing special. 

He dragged himself an inch or two forward, and that was all. He could only watch helplessly as Kotoko attacked again. Amane sank to the ground after a few harsh kicks to her legs. She lifted her arms to block her face. 

If he wanted to help society, he should have protected people. He should have protected that girl.

Fuuta had never begged for anything in his life before. 

He opened his mouth to beg Kotoko to stop. 

But his body was doing everything in its power to sabotage him. His words dissolved into wheezing coughs. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t save anyone.

He hasn’t done anything useful with his life. Worthless.

Darkness invaded his vision. The horrible sounds within the cell grew more and more distant.  

Amane was thrown to the ground nearby. She lay close enough for him to reach his arm towards her, though still out of his grasp. Her eyes were trained on him. He wished he had the voice to scream at her to look away – to turn her attention to Kotoko, and not the failure of a man who wasn’t going to help her. 

All he could do was hold her gaze until his own eyes slipped shut.

Some hero he was.

Just before the world disappeared around him, he felt warm fingers interlock with his, and squeeze.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Lineup of all of the characters that appear long enough to need a visual representation of them in the game lol

[wizardpink]

Thinking thoughts about these tags at work today.

[sepiasys]

I love trauma! I love being traumatized!

[lime1991]

more!

[erumai-maadu]

you know, i think tenten will also give them good luck charms for protection like how she gave her tsunade-sama one in sd.

she totally would, with her penchant for fortune telling, she’d handcraft three good luck/protection charms and give them to each of them.

I like to think she gives them to each of her team at different times.

Lee gets his first, after Tenten overhears him telling Gai-sensei about how he has almost lost hope in his dream to beat Neji.

“Perhaps just hard work isn’t enough,” he sobs to Gai-sensei as Tenten walks away, her heart heavy. She hands him a little good-luck charm at training the next day, a carved dragon, quietly telling him that he should never lose hope.

Neji may be a genius, but Lee is a genius of hard work, and she will protect his boundless hope until he achieves his dream. Perhaps it comes from a place of selfishness. After all, Tenten is no genius herself, and Lee’s hope is her hope too.

Or maybe it’s not selfishness, but relatability.

Whatever it is, Lee thanks her with a huge hug and many, many tears. Tenten protests loudly, but deep down, her heart swells.

He always keeps it in the hidden pocket of his jumpsuit, and never forgets to take the charm out before washing it. He shows it off with pride to everyone, much to Tenten's chagrin.

Gai-sensei receives his next, after both Tenten and Lee end up in the hospital after the Chunin Exams.

After Tenten is healed, she finds her sensei standing over a sleeping Lee, tears rolling down his face. He immediately puts on an act when Tenten walks in, but she knows what she saw, and it weighs on her.

The next day, when Gai-sensei pops into her physical therapy to check on her and offer some good old Gai-sensei encouragement (motivational shouting), Tenten pulls him aside. She hands him a small charm she’d made the previous night, a little wood turtle carved with the symbol for luck.

“Don’t worry sensei, the people you care about will always be okay!” She smiles brightly at him as she sets the charm in his hand. “It’s for protection—”

Gai-sensei’s thanks is also in the form of many, many tears and shouted declarations of his sweet lotus flower’s kindness and compassion. Tenten’s response, as usual, is loud and embarrassed protests, and a secret smile muffled in Gai-sensei’s broad shoulder as he hugs her tightly.

Gai keeps his charm in the safest pocket of his jounin vest, going as far as to ask Genma to give him a seal to make sure it never breaks or gets damaged. After all, his lotus gave it to him so he could protect her and her teammates, and he would rather die than let her down.

Neji is the last to receive his charm, after his fight with Naruto in the final round of the Chunin Exams. He sits in the hospital room and tells her about everything, his clan, his uncle apologizing to him, his restored faith in the future.

"I will change my clan," he insists to her. "I will better it, for all of the Hyuuga."

The next morning, through the rubble of a torn-apart and betrayed village, in the wake of the Sandaime Hokage's death, Tenten walks to the Hyuuga compound dressed in her mourning clothes and deposits a small carved phoenix charm in his hand.

"What's this for?" he asks, turning the charm over in his hand and studying it.

"Good fortune, protection." Unlike the rest of Team Gai, Tenten always keeps her stories to herself. For some reason, she finds the words tumbling out of her. "My mother used to make them for me. They were for protection and good luck."

Neji nods. He runs a thumb over the carved bird's wing. "Protecting what?"

"My hopes, my well-being, whatever it was she thought needed to be protected."

Neji finally looks up at her, understanding filtering through his gaze. Tenten turns around, ears burning. "Come on, let's go. They'll kill us if we're late to the funeral."

Neji stows his charm in the pockets of his clothes and jogs after her.

Several years later, when Lee surpasses everyone around him, his taijutsu a shining beacon of his hard work and dedication, he is ever aware of the wooden dragon in his pocket, the way his hope is a reflection of Tenten's. He vows to work harder, to prove to her that she can do it just like him.

He will protect her hope too.

On the battlefield facing down Madara Uchiha, Gai quickly moves the little turtle charm to the pocket over his heart. To protect the village, to protect his precious students, he can do anything.

"Eighth Gate of Death, release!"

As medics work to stabilize Neji in the emergency tents, they find a blood-soaked phoenix charm clutched in his hand.

His full recovery is nothing short of a miracle.

[hella1975]

I'm not done yet but hey are you giving zuko eldest daughter trauma because I'll fucking kill you I read ONE line it's probably the first of what's to come but I'm sending the hate ask now xoxo

ofc i wouldn't do that! he's just fistfighting a saviour complex and is eternally burdened by the responsibility of raising and caring for his sister while simultaneously being a child himself and always putting himself before the worst of the war so that azula doesn't have to all the while growing more and more rage towards the situation until it all comes out in a very cataclysmic scene that i will definitely cry at when writing :)

[silverselfshippingchaos]

k.abru d.ungeon m.eshi the man that you are...

[iscariotapologist]

to be quite honest i'm not entirely over having my teenage body scrutinized and deemed overly scandalous and inappropriate at various times by insane staff and faculty in evangelical high school for existing in leggings or a dress. just things i'm thinking upon and getting enraged over this nye. imagine having a normal body image

[hangingoffence]

ok I think being a father/older brother figure comes to Arthur very naturally. Under the dirty outlaw he cares and protects and he's not afraid to show it. He expresses his love for the gang multiple times and he even says it; "Nothing matters more to me than this gang...". For instance he's natural with Jack. He really cares about that boy and wants him to live his best life out. He also can comfort people easily. Especially women. He's soft and careful with women. For example Tilly and the girl he and Charles saved from the Murfree Brood. But he can be a strong example for them too. Like with Sadie and Charlotte.

But I also think that some of that comes from Hosea and his tactics of raising Arthur. Hosea too is a natural with Jack. He might be more strict or harsh but he too cares so much and wants a better life for Jack. And he's also very close with Lenny, one of the youngest gang members. Even though Arthur's loyalty lies with Dutch he himself had said that Hosea is more of a father to him.

[jonathanbyersphd]

Unfriendly Reminder that Jonathan cannot remember a time when his parents weren't fighting

[river--sea]

@dotmatrixnudes is absolutely correct. Donald Trump has been regularly throwing the word Palestinian at Zionists as an insult. We aren't stupid; we are fully aware how absolutely awful Trump is.

Biden is awful. Biden is awful. You cannot say "Oh, his policies are more progressive," if he doesn't do anything with the policies. His stance on abortion is more progressive than Trump's, but did he do ANYTHING to support women's rights? His policies on immigration are supposed to be more progressive than Trump's, and yet Biden has been funding the fucking border wall and aiding to the border crisis and deporting people left and right.

I'm from the South, so let me tell you something right now: governors are already implementing EVERYTHING Trump wants. Louisiana, right now, just mandated displaying the 10 Commandments from the Bible in every K-12 classroom. Florida is banning every Pride-colored anything from existing. Educational criterias are getting Whiter and Whiter. Abortion rights are non-existent, with some governors trying to get birth control fully banned, too.

Biden's president right now. Why hasn't he stopped any of that? If Biden is so progressive, if Biden is such a stark contrast from Trump, why has everything fallen to such shit?

Your problem isn't that Trump has disgusting policies. Your problem is that YOU might actively be impacted by his policies. Under Biden, those same policies are coming to fruition, but more subtly. Under Biden, the only consistent and obvious example of fascism is the literal genocide massacring my people. I'm ignorable, you're not, so you can shrug off the genocide and complain about the fact that I'm too disillusioned to fall for the same 4-year trap that you believe in.

to be honest it would make me a lot more comfortable if you guys would show a little concern about trump running for president again. Do not inbox me and say you don’t like joe biden omg i already know. but can we show a little concern. about donald trump. being the republican candidate for president. for the third election in a row.

[flovverworks]

sorry i got overwhelmed with love for akira again

[rafeandonlyrafe]

southern rivalries

warnings: 18+ only, smut, college au, cheerleader!reader, football player!rafe, college football but i dont know anything so please excuse any wrong details, rivals to lovers, p in v sex, protected sex to unprotected sex lol, sixty nine, male and female receiving oral, male receiving handjob, brief injury but no one is seriously hurt

words: 2.3k

“they're not just a different school.” steffie says, placing her hands down on the table as her tone turns way too serious for the subject. “they're our rivals, our arch nemeses. the war has torn families apart.”

“it's football.” you say plainly. “college. football.”

“i can tell you're new here.” steffies friend tiffy agrees (you've always wondered if they purposely chose their nicknames to rhyme considering they seem attached at the hip). “you just don't get it. football is life here in the south.”

“and north carolina are our rivals. even though we are north carolina.” you are trying to wrap your head around the culture at your new school.

“kind of but also, not at all.” tiffy says while steffie finishes the sentiment for her. “we are nc state. the wolf pack. our rivals are unc tar heels.”

“tar heels is a dumb name.” you snort.

“exactly!” steffie agrees.

the conversation shifts, but it never goes to far from football, too far from the rivalry that seems to extend to everything, from other sports to academics.

“did you cheer in high school?” steffie asks.

“yeah.” you nod. “well, not sideline because it conflicted with volleyball. i did competitive though.”

“you should try out for our sideline team. we need more numbers and…” her voice turns to a whisper like she's sharing a deep, dark secret. “my sister is the team captain. you'll definitely get on the squad if i put in a good word for you.”

-- two months later --

“wolf!” you shout with your fellow cheerleaders, listening to the crowd scream back.

“pack!”

“wolf!” you yell again before dropping your poms, quickly learning that most of the girls never did competitive cheer and aren't the best tumblers, leaving you to be the one flipping across the sidelines to the cheers of fans.

you wave and kick and cheer, just happy to have something to do on friday nights. you feel a little guilty for beating out girls that are a lot more passionate about football and your college, but you try your best to put it past you.

you get back in the line, yelling out cheers and keeping your cheeks stretched wide with a smile, occasionally glancing at the clock to see how much longer until your halftime routine (as well as the score… a little bit.)

the seconds are ticking down and you're about to raise your poms again to shake the red and white colors in the air, when you suddenly feel a presence behind you, but before you can turn, you're hit in the back.

“ahhh!” you scream out and fall forward, the football player falling with you as the ball falls from his hands.

“shit.” he groans and quickly rolls off of you. “are you okay?”

you roll over onto your back, coughing and trying to suck in oxygen after the air was knocked out of your lungs.

you realize quickly that the football player now moved to hover over top of you is not one of your own with his powder blue jersey and white helmet.

“im-” you take another deep suck of breath, but this time not in recovery as you see his face through the face mask, blue eyes looking into yours and the most handsome face you've ever seen.

“im fine.” you manage to say before you're surrounded by a crowd, the wolfpack players pulling the opposing player away and your fellow cheerleaders helping you back up.

steffie pushes strands of hair out of your face, getting you back to proper uniform while tiffy shoves your fallen poms back into your grip.

“ew.” tiffy says, wiping the back of your uniform like the tar heel player left a literal stain on you.

“and our cheerleader is back and up on her feet! let's give it up for her as number 19 rafe cameron re-enters the field after their clash.”

you wave your hand in the air as the crowd claps for you, their attention briefly away from the field, but there's only one thing on your mind. rafe cameron.

-- two hours later --

“what are you doing?” steffie yells, snatching your phone from your hand and making you quickly regret agreeing to be her and tiffies third roommate.

“don't you know fraternization is not allowed with tar heels?”

“im not doing anything!” you grab your phone back out of her hand, still opened up to his instagram page. “simply looking at the guy who hit me, okay? i was just curious.”

“mhm.” steffie gives you a glaring look that clearly says she doesn't believe you.

you sigh softly and close out of the account, not that there's many posts to look at anyways, and only a few not on the football field with his helmet off and structured face in full view.

“let's go out.” you say quickly.

“after we lost the game?” steffie shakes her head.

“alright, whatever.” you get up to get dressed in something cute, not willing to let the football teams loss hold you back from living your life, and admittedly you need a breath of fresh air away from cheer or football or your dorm mates.

--

you're at a club you've never been to before, not one of the ones that plasters wolfpack pride posters to all of their walls and plays the red and white anthem like it's a kesha song.

you show the bouncer your id and step into the music filled room, quickly ordering yourself a drink when you hear loud whooping from a different section.

you look over and find a group of men that you quickly realize despite the clubs colorful lighting are wearing that recognizable baby blue.

“of course.” you groan, just happening to stumble into the same bar as the unc players while you're trying to not think about football or even college despite all your classes being easy entry level.

you're about to pay your tab and leave when a deep, familiar voice speaks from jarringly close.

“another drink of whatever the lady is having.”

“i- no, no.” you shake your head, only briefly glancing at him. rafe. “im fine.”

“you're that cheerleader, aren't you?” he leans his elbow against the table, and the bartender makes you a drink and places it down in front of you despite your attempted disapproval.

“yeah.” you nod. “not that… into all of this i guess.” you shrug, hand waving at the logo on his shirt. “i didn't know y'all came here to celebrate.”

“ah.” he nods. “and your name?”

you realize quickly that you know far too much about him when all he knows is that he accidentally hit you, and that you cheer for his rival team.

“y/n.” you reply, taking a sip of your drink, actually tasting it this time instead of quickly gulping it down like you did the first time.

“im rafe.” he reaches his hand out and you shake it, wondering if the invisible blue stain is somehow going to be picked up on by steffie and tiffy when you eventually make it back to your dorm.

“i never got to properly apologize. i did look for you after the game. i guess it was fate that brought you here tonight.” rafe squeezes your hand, and you quickly realize it's still held in his grip. “im sorry.”

“im not supposed to-” you quickly take your hand out of his grasp. “im not supposed to be talking to you. sorry.”

“ah.” he says again. “that pesty no fraternization rule. im not supposed to be talking to you either.”

there's a pause, a mutual understanding and acknowledgement of the tension brewing between the two of you.

“but that's not going to stop me from asking you back to my hotel room.”

the words barely leave his lips before your mouth is on his.

--

it's a mess of hands, furiously grabbing and tugging at clothes until you're both down to just your undergarments.

“shit.” you laugh, noticing that even rafes underwear is carolina blue.

“team issued.” he clarifies quickly as he pulls you down with him as he falls back onto the bed. your lips press against his as you straddle his hips.

you press your crotch down over his, feeling the way he's already pressing up against your panties.

“god, let me get my mouth on you.” you groan, sinking down to lick and kiss at the grooves of his chest and abs, trying to commit the taste of his skin to memory, not sure if you'll ever have this chance again.

you reach his blue boxers and press your lips against the clear outline of his hard cock, wetting the fabric with your spit before you're sick of the barrier and lean back only to pull the underwear down his thighs.

“fuck.” rafe moans out when your mouth is immediately back on his cock, this time able to put his length into your mouth as you bob your head up and down, quickly setting a rhythm as you try to coax your throat to allow him deeper.

“y/n.” rafe tugs on your hair, and you groan when you're forced to pull away.

“what?” you snap.

“get your ass up here.” 

you move quickly, shucking off your panties and moving so your pussy is hovering over rafes face. he looks up at you for a brief second, just to take a breath and stare into your glistening cunt, before his hands are pulling your hips down and your clit onto his awaiting mouth.

you take his cock in your hand, pressing open mouth kisses and licks all over, not sure how well you can blow him when your moans are loud and filling the hotel room.

rafe mumbles something that you can't might make out, but it may be “delicious.” as his mouth devours your pussy, tongue swiping through your folds obsequiously, paying attention to every moan of yours and what causes your pussy to clench.

“fuck.” you groan, hand moving to take over for your mouth as your jaw drops open, stroking up and down his length that makes your cunt squeeze again thinking about having inside you.

rafe pushes your hips away, and before you can argue or control your body, he uses his strong football muscles to flip you into your back and rest your head against the hotel rooms fluffy pillows.

“i need you.” rafe says, reaching towards his wallet on the nightstand and pulling out a condom, tearing it before sinking the rubber over his length.

“fuck yes.” you moan out. who knew exactly what you needed to feel better was to hookup with the player on the opposing team, the rule breaking only making things even more exciting.

rafe grabs your leg and pulls it over his hip before lining up with your entrance. he sinks forward slowly, eyes on your face in case you show any sign of pain.

“you're so fucking warm.” rafe moans out, dropping to kiss you sloppily as his hips press all the way forward, cock buried inside of you. 

he gives you both a minute to adjust before hes hovering over you, strong arms holding himself up as he pounds into you.

“fuck!” you squeal out, one hand gripping the bed sheets while the other reaches up to the headboard, trying to find some stability while he wrecks your pussy.

you hope rafe won't last too long because you can already feel your high building despite not wanting it to be over anytime soon.

one time certainly won't be enough to satisfy you, especially not as you look up at rafes face, still gorgeous and chiseled even as his jaw is slackened as he fucks you with pure pleasure and bliss in his eyes.

“you-” you gasp out. “you feel amazing. so good.”

“damn right i do.” rafe smiles a cocky grin down at you as he somehow manages to speed up even more. “filling you perfectly. this pussy is mine.”

you try (and fail) to not let the words go to your head.

you even briefly think of what your fellow cheerleaders would think if they knew what you were doing right now, how tiffy and steffie would react if they knew just how much that unseen blue has been smeared across your naked body, how much of it is dripping from your cunt.

“im-im not far.” rafe warns, ignoring the cramp in his throwing arm to warn you.

“ffff-” you hold back the urge to curse again as your mind spins. “condom off, please. i need you to cum in me.”

rafe certainly isn't going to argue, even though it might not be the smartest idea. he kneels between your legs, one hand coming to massage your clit while the other pulls the condom off. 

rafe strokes himself once before pushing back inside of you, keeping one hand on your clit as your pleasure grows, hips seeming to raise higher and higher off the bed the closer your high gets.

“cumming.” rafe manages to say seconds before he bursts, warm spurts of cum filling your insides, thankfully not being wasted being trapped inside rubber.

the warm filled sensation causes you to tip over the edge too, body shaking as rafe collapses over you, rubbing your clit with his cock lodged inside of you until both your highs have worn out, your pussy sucking and clenching out every bit of cum he has to give.

“god.” rafe rolls off of you and onto his back. “you are fucking amazing.”

“you did most of the work.” you giggle.

“you know.” rafe says as he pulls you into his chest. “you play us at home in three weeks.”

“mmm.” you lift your head up and press a kiss against his jaw before you bare your teeth and nip at his skin. “perfect time for us to get revenge.”

“keep that up and i might just have to tackle you again next game.” rafe laughs, but you just flip over so you're on top of him, straddling his hips as his cock starts to grow again.

“you wouldn't dare.”

“if it gets you in my bed all night then i might.”