#and like I feel weird looking at players personal shit not the shit the team puts out

[remedy7411]

The earliest that I could see the Sabres play without having to fly is April. Idk how I feel about this… like I know I can watch them on tv and fly to Buffalo if I really want too, I didn’t get it would be APRIL before they played in Dallas… which is soooo long away.

[sugrhigh]

BOY NEXT DOOR 11 - ( c.s )

part ten

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- swearing, starts fluffy (borderline cringe but get over it) and then smurtyyy baby ITS THE FINALE so enjoy

a/n: wow, a chapter coming to a close. you may get an epilogue…you may not…only time will tell. thank you to anyone who has supported me in general and especially on this specific series!! i had such a fun time with this concept and appreciate yall sticking it out with me fr <3

you’re really regretting your promise to chris now. it’s a day later and there’s less than an hour until the game, which is heightening your nerves like nothing else. you smooth your shaky hands over your sweatshirt, continually glancing over at your bed.

his jersey rests there, crisp and clean. it smells like him too; you picked up on the familiar scent when you were holding it in your hands earlier.

he left it in your mailbox, shooting you a vague text before heading up to the arena. though he didn’t tell you what he put in there in his message, you already knew. and you’ve been wrestling with how you want to play this ever since.

you got so comfortable wearing his stuff, especially to games, that it kind of feels weird not to. but you have a feeling that a lot more people know about what happened than you initially expected, which scares the shit out of you.

you suppose you have to get a little uncomfortable, though. it’s been so long since you’ve felt this way, since someone’s excited you, or even hurt you like this.

and it fucking sucked to be so disappointed. but you never ever thought you would bear witness to chris sturniolo saying his first real i love you, especially to you. it was maybe the one thing he could’ve done to convince you, because it was just so unexpected.

you already knew you loved him, so getting that confirmation from him first was huge.

you blow out a breath, still so antsy as you twist around, watching your reflection with a fierce intensity. nothing you’ve tried feels right, and it’s beyond frustrating.

just put it on. what’s the harm?

you’re tearing your hoodie off a moment later, tossing it to the floor as you reach for his jersey. it slips over your head perfectly, wrapping you in subtle hints of his cologne as you adjust it on your shoulders.

you can’t help but smile slightly as you glance in the mirror; if you ignore reality enough, it almost seems like you’re the same person you were a month ago; a blissfully ignorant girl supporting the boy she cared about.

cares about, your brain autocorrects you.

you never really stopped. you wouldn’t have gone over to his house yesterday in the first place if you truly had.

“hey, are you almost—” ramona stops dead in her tracks when she looks up from her feet, seeing you standing in the number 3.

you’re immediately ashamed, for whatever reason, like she caught you doing something wrong. part of it does feel wrong, and you’re about to say so. but then she smiles, like really smiles, and clasps her hands together happily. “finally!”

the reaction shocks you, to say the least, and you know it’s written all over your face. you shake your head a little, trying to find some way to ask her what she possibly means by that.

mona rolls her eyes at you playfully. “what, you thought i wouldn’t support you?”

you shrug, mouth still parted in surprise. you’re kind of smiling though; you’re happy she feels this way, you just weren’t necessarily expecting it.

plus, you didn’t actually tell them how you felt when you gave them the rundown last night after the bars, so neither of them could’ve known what you were experiencing. for the most part you were acting like it was strictly business or something, which couldn’t be further from the truth.

“i don’t know what i thought, to be honest.” you finally say, shifting around on your feet uncomfortably.

“why didn’t you tell me?”

you sigh and mess with your hair a bit. “because it’s not, like, official or anything, and i’m still not even sure i want to wear this to the game. i was just putting it on, i guess.”

she nods, and you’re waiting for her to say more, but she doesn’t. ramona just walks over, pulling you into her arms without another word.

you’re once again stunned, but in a pleasantly unanticipated way. you’re beyond tired of crying, but these tears are different. they’re happy, because you can feel your heart mending, and mona knows that too.

“you took the time, and i think you’re ready to forgive, angel. i can see it every time i look at you, that you’re still thinking of him, and that’s okay. he’s clearly been a fucking wreck, and i honestly believe he loves you because he would never utter those words if he didn’t.” she laughs into your hair slightly, and you can hear the emotion in her voice.

despite everything, you let out a breathy chuckle too. “you’re amazing, you know that? i really lucked the hell out with you.”

she pulls away, still smiling despite her shining eyes. you dab at your own, trying your best not to ruin the makeup you had so carefully applied half an hour earlier.

“i love you forever. cass and i just want to see you happy and i think being with him is what you want. so if it really is, you should wear it.” ramona gives the jersey a little tug.

you know you’re going to now, and you decide you don’t care what anyone else thinks about it. it’s between you and him, and if the people you trust most support you, then nothing else matters.

“i…i will. and thanks, really. you always help clear my head.” you nudge her a little with a grin.

“of course,” she wraps a hand around your arm so she can start pulling you toward the door, “now hurry up, because we’re on the verge of being late and cass is waiting!”

being away from the rink this long makes the lights somehow feel a hundred times brighter. they’re beating down on you as you and your roommates make your way to your seats, the same ones that you’d become accustomed to ever since that first game.

it’s been a while since you’ve felt quite this many eyes on you, and it’s insanely unsettling. you focus on navigating the steps below you, because you know if you don’t you’ll fall and make yourself look even worse.

it’s at least loud, considering they’ve got all the music going for warm ups. you’re glad you can’t hear the crowd of students whispering about how pathetic you are, or how stupid you’re acting.

maybe it’s true, but you’re beyond that now. you’re willing to get hurt again, even though you hope with all of your heart that the day never comes, because you’ll regret it forever if you don’t try.

people make mistakes. but they only get one chance to make it up in your book, and this is chris’s chance.

so you square your shoulders and try to wear the jersey with pride as you guys finally arrive in the front row, even though it’s difficult to act confident.

fake it till you make it, or whatever they say.

your eyes find him skating around almost immediately, like they’re just naturally drawn in his direction. you suppose that it shouldn’t be surprising, at least not after watching so many games.

the way he moves is different; he’s smooth, always one step ahead, like he’s playing an entirely different game. it’s easy to spot, because he’s somehow the most fluid and the most aggressive on the ice.

you watch as chris skates back to the blue line, circling their half of the rink while they all take practice shots. that’s when he looks over at your section, and you can see the relief wash over his face when he spots you.

he nods, and you can see a devilish smile forming on his face as he snaps the puck into the net once again. it makes you uneasy when the rest of the team starts to glance at you as well, only to look toward one another after like some sort of signal.

you try to shake it, pretend like your gut is completely wrong, and for a couple minutes you can. they stretch and do more drills and everything seems normal, or as normal as it can be right now.

until they all slow down, gathering around the bench one by one to create a warped huddle. the opposing team is skating off of the ice now with five minutes left of warmups, and you’ve never been more on edge. mona and cass aren’t paying enough attention, so when you look at them in alarm, they’re purely concerned.

“what? why does your face look like that?” cassidy questions.

before you can even begin to explain the weird feeling that’s settled in your bones, the entire BU team breaks as the lights shut off. you can hear the confused murmuring of the fans over the music, which is fading out slowly now.

each of them line up, getting into position as if they’ve practiced a hundred times, forming a pyramid shape in the middle of the ice. chris stands alone in the front, and there’s a microphone in his hand, and—oh god, fuck.

seconds later the spotlight flares over to shine on him, and even though you know there’s no way he can actually see with it directly in his eyes, it still feels like he’s looking right at you.

you watch him gulp nervously, and you’re just as terrified of whatever is coming next.

“uh—hi everyone. i’m your captain, chris, and i wanted to thank each and everyone one of you for coming out tonight.” he starts off, trying to brush away his fear.

though the crowd is still obviously confused, they’re applauding regardless due to their special recognition. on the other hand remain completely still, trying to avoid panicking so publicly.

“what the fuck is he doing?” mona whisper shouts in your direction, and all you can do is shrug even though you know where he’s going with this.

somehow, you can just feel it in your gut.

“seriously, you guys are beyond amazing. you’re the reason playing here is so incredible,” chris smiles charmingly as the noise dies down, pausing dramatically for a moment before continuing, “but i’m actually standing out here tonight like an idiot because there’s somebody in this crowd that i need to apologize to.”

your stomach falls to your feet, and you can’t do anything besides stare out across the rink at him. he’s looking your way again, brilliant blue gaze still able to pick up on exactly where you are, and you feel a shock course through your veins.

“i did wrong by her, and i’ve been kicking myself every day since. she’s the most radiant and passionate person in every room, and she’s also the only reason i’m even here in this arena today. the truth is that i love her, which is why i think it’s time to turn the tables and embarrass myself a little bit to prove that. plus you guys get a heck of a show in the process.” he jokes, earning some apprehensive chuckles in response.

chris clears his throat, trying not to let his voice crack. despite what you think, he actually can see you through the brightness, which makes his heart leap to his throat. “so to the girl of my dreams, i’m sorry. and i hope this shows you that i meant it when i said i’d never stop fighting.”

every single part of you is screaming in a way you can’t explain; you’re completely entranced, but in the same way that people can’t look away from a car crash.

the audience chatters as the lights go out again, but it doesn’t take long before ain't too proud to beg starts playing to cut them off. you recognize it immediately, and now you can’t help but crack a smile.

this was the song you listened to most when you’d drive around in his car, singing along together with the heat blasting on your way to nowhere in particular. you can’t hear it anymore without thinking about him.

the stadium ignites in a dreamy red glow, and each member of the team begins skating in slow circles, kicking their feet out lightly to the rhythm. chris remains up front, gliding around as if he’s walking on clouds.

he tries not to look at you too much, because this moment is about putting himself on display, but his attention darts to you every couple of seconds. you’re clearly stunned, but he sees the small grin on your lips, and that lights the fire he needs to go all out.

“i know you wanna leave me, but i refuse to let you go,” chris begins, voice surprisingly strong as he glides around, “if i have to beg n’plead for your sympathy, i don’t mind ‘cause you mean that much to me.”

you can hear people starting to sing along, and you amaze yourself by joining in for the chorus as well. cassidy and ramona sway beside you, both shaking you lightly as they try to contain their shrieks of delight.

“ain’t too proud to beg, and you know it, please don’t leave me girl.” he belts out, unable to contain his happiness when he sees your reaction.

his team continues to dance on the rest of the ice, leaving the middle for him as they goof off, each adding their own personal flair to the simple choreography. you laugh when you see connor and ben doing the robot at each other, simply because they look so damn stupid.

“ain’t too proud to plead, baby baby, please don’t leave me girl.” chris holds the mic between both palms, shaking his hands in prayer as he skates backwards suavely.

the beat swells as the jazz blares through the speakers, and they all line up across the center of the ice. there are tears in your eyes as chris joins them, arms all linked over each others shoulders as they begin a rockette kick line.

despite how insanely unsafe it probably is to do on skates, they’re all killing it. the whole stadium is roaring now; laughter, cheers, chanting along, you name it. you’re amazed, eyes flashing along with the glowing atmosphere.

having him serenade you with this song, in front of all of these people, is something you never thought possible.

there’s an exhilarated expression on his face, still completely focused on you as he sings his heart out, and it makes you completely weak. his defined features are as striking as ever, cheeks flushed slightly from the adrenaline of it all.

he’s the same handsome boy you thought you knew, and yet here he is, surprising you again.

you’re bouncing around as the song nears the end, only for chris to come skating forward from the others so he can slide on his knees across the rink, headed your way. it’s so dramatic and so fucking silly that you’ve got a stitch in your side from laughing.

for a moment you just look at each other, separated only by the plexiglass wall, and everything else in your mind quiets. you no longer hear the anxious thoughts, or the crowd, or even your friends screaming beside you.

chris’s chest heaves as he finally relaxes, lowering his outstretched arms so that he can shrug bashfully, as if he’s asking you what you think.

you shrug back, but you’re beaming so hard that your true feelings are on display regardless. you can see his matching teary eyes, and truly for the very first time, neither of you care about anyone else.

he’s fucking whipped, and he’ll tell everyone in the world without a second thought. you’re certain of that now, and so is he.

finally, chris pushes himself up and holds the mic back to his mouth, one arm out as he waves to the sea of people. “thank you everyone! get loud tonight, and as always go terriers!”

they all skate off the ice, and you see his friends embracing him in excitement as they head back to the locker room. chris takes one final look over his shoulder, and you give him a wave of encouragement.

he disappears and your attention finally turns to your friends, their mouths still hanging open from the rather electrifying show.

“i can’t believe…i mean he just…” cassidy tries to form a sentence, but ends up pressing a hand to her lips instead.

“that kid is so fucking in love with you, wow.” ramona giggles to herself.

you’re about to object, but you know she’s right. and after that display, there’s certainly no point in arguing about it, because then you’d just be giving some shitty explanation.

before you can even start babbling, your phone vibrates in your pocket and you freeze again. you know who it is, but your heart is pounding against your ribcage as you check anyways.

chris

we’ll talk after?

it's the first text from him in weeks that you’re going to respond to, the first of many you suppose. that makes you smile as you type out an answer.

y/n

only if you win :)

and he does. he does win. in fact, chris went out there and played probably the best game of his entire career.

a hat trick, which he’s never done in his life, all for you.

the team is electric, and he knows the party will be coming back to his place as they all rage in the locker room after the game. it was incredible, and this moment with them is great, but the only person he wants to see is you.

so he slips into the hallway, already dialing your number as the door finally swings shut to contain some of the noise.

you pick up on the first ring.

“i won.” chris states immediately, and he can hear the grin in his own voice.

“you did.” you respond.

it’s a lame attempt at being coy, and you both know it. he leans his shoulder up against the wall, shaking his head even though you can’t see it.

“three goals was pretty impressive, huh? probably worth talking to me over, at least in my opinion.” chris teases, and your laugh gives him butterflies.

you glance over at your friends, who try to look busy as you all wait for the bus, though it’s very clear that they’re trying to eavesdrop. “i can’t disagree there, captain.”

he snorts before he can help it. “so does that mean you’re coming over?”

it seems like an eternity before you answer, even though it’s maybe five seconds total. “yeah, i’ll see you at home.”

when chris confronts the locker room once more he tries to part ways with everyone graciously, but they can see through him. he can’t get out of there quick enough, and yet everyone is just as excited to watch him leave.

none of them have ever seen him like this. he’s never seen himself like this, and despite being horrified of that in the past, there’s nothing holding him back anymore.

he tries not to get too antsy on the drive home, and you’re buzzing equally as much as you chat with your friends.

chris keeps working himself up even thinking about being close to you, about actually getting to belong to you. he’s missed having you in his hands, in the most innocent and sinful ways possible.

he beats you back by a few minutes, so he hangs around in the front yard like a dog, kicking at the dirt to try and distract himself.

by the time you come walking down the street, laughing along with cassidy and ramona, he feels like his heart is going haywire. your face coming into focus under the street light only makes it worse, because you look so damn perfect.

when you catch sight of him your expression transforms immediately; you’re somehow more visibly timid, but he can also tell that you’re dying to speak.

“‘sup chris?” cassidy nods, arms crossed over her chest as she turns with ramona toward their house.

“pleasure to see you ladies again.” he charms, giving a little two finger salute.

they both giggle and wave him off, whispering amongst themselves as they leave the two of you alone. its just like his first time ever laying eyes on you, because he’s equally as entranced as he was three years ago.

“hey.” he takes a couple steps forward, hands still in his pockets.

you can tell he’s actually a bit reserved, which surprises you. chris has always been good at reading you, at calling you out, and it’s hard to believe that he can’t pick up on the fact that you’re so far beyond gone.

“hi there.” you smile and get a little closer, and he almost falls to his knees.

a few more paces forward and you’d be face to face, so close that his nose would probably brush against yours. so he moves, one foot at a time, just to give you the opportunity to say no.

but you don’t, and you know that you never will, so you ask him the one question on your mind. “do you really want to talk?”

chris blushes for what seems like the millionth time, shaking his head slowly.

“what do you think?”

he’s towering over you a bit now, stopped only a couple inches away to keep some semblance of space. you don’t want it, and he doesn’t either, so you reel him flush against you by the waistband of his sweats.

“i think you should tell me you love me one more time.” you tease, drinking in the intoxicating smell of that goddamn dior.

chris leans in the rest of the way so his mouth is hovering over yours, even though it’s suffocating to do so. “i love you. i’ll say it as many times as ya like, princess.”

your stomach is flipping. you can’t help it anymore.

so you kiss him. you wrap your arm around his torso and you pull him as close as possible and you just fucking kiss him.

he’s already melting into you, hand tangling in your hair instinctively to tug. it’s sloppy, heated, everything you’ve been holding back for weeks. tasting your signature chapstick is enough to get him all bothered, to the point where it’s embarrassing.

it’s the start of something new, all while you’re standing in the same fucking driveway where this really began.

you pull away completely breathless, though you don’t wait to slip your hand into his. chris stumbles slightly over his feet as you pull him along, a little taken aback by the change in pace.

“what, can’t keep up?” you joke as you ascend the porch with him in tow.

he finds his balance quickly, though, hot on your heels now. his palm comes down to slap your ass playfully as you’re headed through the front door and you shriek out a laugh.

“i do just fine, thank you very much.”

he’s quick to reattach himself to you, so quick in fact that you’re barely able to close the door behind you.

it’s honestly hard to even get up to his room because of how much he’s all over you; kissing your neck from behind, running his hands over waist, dragging his fingers up and down every part of your body.

chris has missed you for too long to let any second go to waste. you’re giggling in between tiny little breaths of pleasure, attempting to hold them back some, but he wants to hear more.

you carelessly stagger into his room and he kicks the door shut behind him before breaking away. chris finally takes a moment to pause so that he can turn you around and admire you.

“you know what you do to me in that jersey, seeing you out there wearing my name.” chris growls, sliding his hands underneath the synthetic material to grip your warm skin.

you push your hips to him harder, smirking when you feel his hard-on press against your lower stomach. “mhmm, you gonna do anything about it before everyone gets back?”

his hands travel higher at this, skimming up the sides of your body as it bunches up around your chest. you get the message, so you lift your arms to help him take it off only for him to toss it to the floor a second later.

“fuck ‘em…i wanna take my time with you.” chris brushes your hair over your shoulder gently.

you try not to shiver. the anticipation is killing you as he cups the side of your neck, forcing you to retreat slowly until your legs meet his bed. his chest rises and falls heavily while he looks at you, familiarizing himself with every detail again.

you take the next step and sink down, laying your back against the mattress. your hair is like a halo around you, and chris shakes his head slightly.

his knee comes in between your legs to make room for himself, and you’re turned on just watching him devour you with his eyes.

“y’look like a fuckin’ angel.” he sighs, planting his arms by your shoulders so he can hover above you now.

you tilt your head, daring him to capture your lips again. “you gonna treat me like one?”

“long as you act like one.” he taunts back.

without a second thought you fasten your legs around his waist, pulling him right against your core so you can really feel. those tight little yoga pants don’t hide your warmth, and chris lets out an involuntary groan.

“fine, have it your way.”

he shifts his weight so he can wrap one hand around your throat, and the pressure is so enjoyable that you place your own palm over his to let him know it.

your other one travels to the back of his head, gripping his roots as his mouth connects with your neck harshly.

he’s leaving his mark again, not caring how childish it is to be putting hickies in this spot specifically. chris wants everyone to see them, to know that it’s real this time, and you’re his.

you selfishly don’t care either. neither of you have said the words yet, but you’re together, and it excites you that everyone will be able to look at the proof.

he lingers in every spot, working his way to your collarbone as he rocks against you. you’re a whining mess, his hard bulge rubbing against your center perfectly, and it only gets worse when the fingers around your neck move to squeeze your tits.

the fact that your bra is unlined makes it even more arousing, the lace brushing against your hardened nipple as he pinches one between his pointer and middle.

“missed you so much.” he grumbles, his hot breath fanning across your skin while he drags his lips down further, sliding his body through your legs, “you were driving me insane.”

the kisses he presses against your stomach makes you tense slightly from the sheer amount of butterflies. chris gets closer and closer to the top of your pants, lowering his body far enough to kneel at the side of his bed.

he finally abandons his position briefly so he can look up at you through his lashes. you’ve never seen a prettier goddamn sight.

“tell me you need me, baby.” he challenges, and you’re dying to have him touching you again in any way.

“i need you, chris. so bad, please.” you beg, squirming slightly to try to get closer.

but he keeps you where you are, slowly pulling the silky material down your hips, mouth trailing along every part of you as he goes. you gasp at the sensation, only unhooking your ankles for a second to allow him to fully tug them off.

he doesn’t hesitate before he clutches the outside of both of your legs and tugs you toward his face, keeping them planted around his shoulders as his elbows dig into the mattress.

“that’s what i thought.” chris smirks, leaving more tantalizing kisses up the middle of your thighs.

your breath hitches the closer he gets, his stubble scraping your skin slightly as he ventures on. your fingers tangle in his roots when his lips finally trace along the seam of your panties, which are already humiliatingly damp.

one of his hands reaches further over your hips to shove them to the side, and feeling his fingers brush you even slightly makes you shudder just a bit.

“fucking do something.” you’re the one pleading now, though not as publicly.

chris’s laugh fans across your wetness, and goosebumps crawl their way up your skin.

“been waiting for those words.”

finally, he presses his lips against your core and you mutter a soft incoherent curse. his tongue slips out to glide across the delicate skin, for just long enough that your back arches off of the comforter.

he groans and you feel it vibrating right through you. chris has been craving you for so long, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever be in this position again.

he’s already completely pussy-drunk, because his plan was to draw it out, really make you tick. but he can’t hold back; he got a taste and now he’s eating like it’s his last time, nose bumping your sensitive bud as he teases your entrance.

“shit—chris!” you cry out, gripping his hair harder in your knuckles.

he murmurs again in appreciation, because he’s always loved the feeling, and you quiver slightly from the sensation. it’s too much all at once and yet it’s never enough.

your legs instinctively tighten around his head as he works his tongue up and down fully, making sure he hits every tender spot over and over. it’s magic, however he does it.

you can feel the climax brewing in your stomach as your toes curl slightly, and chris notices your body beginning to shake more frequently.

it was gentle at first, but he’s since picked up the pace, forcing you to grind down on his face as he clutches your around his head. his fingers slide over a bit more, applying pressure to your bundle of nerves in consistent circles.

“oh fuck, gonna make me cum baby.” you barely manage to get it out between moans.

hearing you call him baby only spurs him on, his own erection begging to be freed as continues to work your cunt.

the combined pressure has you whimpering in satisfaction, head thrown back which you know is effectively messing up your hair. your eyes are screwed shut now, lips parted because you can’t seem to stop making noise.

“that’s it, sweetheart. you love my mouth so much, huh?” he pauses only for a second to goad, fingers still deliberately switching paces to draw out the ecstasy.

but then he buries his face again, flicking over your clit at the fastest speed of the night. it’s probably the most intense he’s ever been and you gasp, your breath catching in your throat before a loud whine escapes.

the stimulation is finally too much and you can’t hold back, muscles constricting as you reach your high.

chris doesn’t stop for the entire ride down, though his tongue does grow lazier as you finish for the first time of the night. he doesn’t want to let go of you, finally breaking his contact with your core only to press his wet lips against the inside of your thighs once again.

“jesus christ.” you pant, finally releasing his fluffy hair from your grip.

he chuckles slightly, peppering kisses across your legs until he’s content. “m’not done with you yet. strip.”

even though you’re still hazy from the first round, you’re surprisingly quick to follow direction. you arch your back more and unhook your frilly bra, chucking it somewhere behind you.

chris finally stands back up from his spot on the floor, and you make quick work pushing your underwear down your hips and kicking them off as he watches.

“look who’s finally listening.” he jokes with a grin.

you roll your eyes, and then a new impulse takes over; you want him to know who he belongs to now. so you sit up with him in between your legs, which surprises him enough that he’s still for a moment.

you take the opportunity to mess with the hem of his tee, slowly sliding your palms underneath and up his stomach.

“i showed you mine.” you hint, ghosting your lips over his now-exposed torso.

this time chris is the one obeying, pulling his shirt the rest of the way for you. his dick is right up against your chest, clearly straining through his sweats at this point.

you let your hands wander back down his body, nails skimming along his happy trail until you reach the top of his pants. he’s quick, yanking them down with his boxers and shoving both further away on his floor.

“really wanna ride you.” you whisper, palming him just enough.

he groans at the gentleness of your touch; he’s extra sensitive now that he’s completely exposed. precum is already leaking from his tip, so you swipe your thumb across it and his hips buck a bit in response.

you slide the slick across his shaft, pumping slowly because it’s your turn to provoke him.

“i’d literally do anything you asked.” chris can hear how weak his voice is as he caresses your hair, and he’s genuinely concerned that his eyes have permanently become hearts.

you look up at him, craning slightly to rest your cheek in his palm, and he swears he could cum right then until you pull your hand away.

“lay down.” your voice is low, sultry, and he’s hypnotized.

all he can do is move on your command, shifting past you to sprawl out across his bed, erection slapping against his waist. he barely has time to settle on his pillows before you’re crawling his direction, tossing a leg over his lap so that you can straddle him.

chris hisses out a prayer, hands going to your hips as your wetness comes in contact with his. you’re hovering, enticing him even more as you lightly slide against his base.

“quit—aahhh—teasing me.” he hums, grinding his own erection up against you harder to try and help himself out.

“can’t handle it?” you smirk, even though the truth is that neither of you can bear the torment of taking it slow.

“you’re a lot to handle.”

you know he’s messing around, but your palms press against his shoulders nonetheless so you can lift yourself a bit higher, which makes him whine in protest at the loss of contact.

you shake your head slightly, a patronizing grin finding finding its way to your face. “better get used to it, pretty boy.”

then one hand wraps around his pulsating cock, pressing his swollen head against your lips before you sink down onto it in its entirety. chris whimpers out a muddled sentence, and tight swears fumble out of your own throat as he stretches you out.

chris is overwhelmed by the rush of having you wrapped around him. you haven’t even started moving; you’re just letting him take it in, the same way that you are as he floods your senses.

“so goddamn perfect for me, fill me up so good.” you praise, finally starting to rock your hips at a grating speed.

the compliment gets to his head, and he didn’t think it was possible for you to turn him on more than you already do. he’s rutting into you seconds later, matching your pace instinctively just like you knew he would. you’ve never been bare with him like this, and you lean into the thrill as much as possible.

the passionate tempo helps ease you into his size, though you’ll admit you’ve missed the delicious sensation of having to break yourself in.

chris chokes on his breath, his fingers digging into your sides hard enough now to leave a bruise. “holy shit.”

his words spur you on and you start to really bounce, skin slapping skin as you both try to contain the sounds of pure bliss falling past your lips.

you spread your legs even wider, which allows you to feel every bulging inch of him pounding into you. your nails rake down his abdomen, leaving little lines of red in their wake.

he can’t get enough of the way you fold around him, and it finally crosses his mind that there’s nothing protecting you.

“condom.” chris grits through his teeth, not slowing his momentum despite what he just said.

“buy me a plan b after, need you raw.” you reply quickly, voice pinched as your chest heaves.

you’ve never been careless like this, and it definitely won’t happen again. but right now, having nothing standing between the two of you is all you’re craving. he’s relishing it, truly being skin to skin.

his hands travel to clutch the curve of your ass, helping slam you down so he can hit the right spot, and even now it’s still not close enough. he adores you too much; it’ll never be enough, because he’s always going to want more.

he’s gasping at this point, trying to keep his eyes open just so he can watch you in all your glory. it’s dim in his room and you’re perfectly backlit, tits bouncing as your hair flits around your face.

you’re the most gorgeous thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

every stroke feels better than the last, and your stomach flips each time he drives himself into that sensitive area. you’re clenching hard now, tugging on his cock rhythmically to the point where he’s twitching inside.

“oh-h my god, fuckin love you. my pretty girl.” chris groans, addicted to the excitement of saying it out loud.

that familiar fire burns in your gut, somehow more fierce than the first. you’re tensing again, trying not to get too careless with your pace as your whimpers grow in intensity.

“m’close—i can’t…” you stutter, brain jumbled with incoherent thoughts.

he props his own legs up slightly, using the last bit of his strength to buck into you. he draws out every last second, because he’d live right here forever if he could.

“give it to me, princess, don’t hold back.” chris prompts breathlessly, his vision blurring as his climax rapidly approaches.

your hips connect sloppily a few more times and it crashes over the both of you at once. the room echos with pants and moans of gratification, a thin layer of sweat painting your skin as you come down from your second orgasm of the night.

you feel him release too, painting your walls in a divine warmth that you’re not used to. you’re so strung out that even the tiniest bits of friction you’re still receiving have you gnawing on the inside of your cheek to control yourself.

finally both of your movements slow to a stop, letting the moment settle for a moment as you catch your breath.

you’re closer that you were before, practically chest to chest with him aside from your hands, so you tilt your forehead to his and give him a gentle peck.

“i’m obsessed.” he mumbles against your mouth before you pull away.

you smile, slowly shifting off of him so you can force yourself into the crook of his arm instead. “you’re just figuring that out now?”

“i always knew, trust me.” chris banters, wrapping his bicep around you to pull you tighter against his side.

you sigh as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head. “so this is real? we’re actually together?”

“if you’ll have me, but i’m yours either way.”

he’s so open, so quick to admit how he actually feels, and it’s everything you’ve been waiting for.

“good, because i’m kind of in love with you and i’ve never been a sharer.”

he chuckles at this, and it already feels so natural. everything has fallen into place, and you're just glad you’re not wasting any more time not experiencing this.

“but you’re not fully forgiven until you buy me that plan b, seriously.” you poke his side playfully and this time you both laugh.

“i think i can make that happen.” chris responds sarcastically, unable to fight the permanent smile that seems to be taking over his features.

every part of him is so content, and it’s the most alive he’s ever been. you bring him to life.

he’s not sure he’ll ever understand how he got lucky enough to fight his way back into your world, but he’ll never take it for granted.

it’s always been you, the bewitching girl next door.

@fawnchives @55sturn @luverboychris @teapartyprincess4two @pinksturniolo @mattinside @stonermattsgf @impureals @chrisactualwife @fikefries @riasturns @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @beijhe @gnxosblog @braindead4l @orangeypepsi @ponyosturniolo @cupidsword @rainydayenthusiast @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @poopydroopt @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @rubyjanexxx @reallykaz @neatcarrot767 @kirby0strombolli @bunnysturns @junnniiieee07 @hrt-attack @sturnssmuts @stunza @beccaluvschris @asturniolos @slutz4sturniolos @mattslolita @alorsxsturn @sturnrc @chrissystur @kellsbells-18 @realqueenofpepsi @snowysosturn @secretfangirly @x0x0bunny @amelia-sturniolo3 @pvssychicken

[nadvs]

can we please have sleeping with the enemy rafe finally announcing to his friends (and max) that they’re dating now!! 😓😓 (ps. i LOVE your fanfics🤞)

thank you sm, love!! yes yes definitely 🥰 i had to make it super fluffy i had no choice

based on this fic, continuation of this blurb

after they eat a late lunch at an off-campus restaurant, rafe is relieved that she doesn’t ask him to drive her back to her dorm. now that they’ve put it into words, this mutual understanding that their friendship had at some point become much more, he hates the idea of being apart from her.

and once he realizes that, he also realizes he’s gone soft. because he used to never think stuff like that, like it would actually physically hurt to be away from somebody. but she’s the only one he thinks like this about. and now, he figures he can say this stuff out loud.

“you’re my favorite person to hang out with,” rafe says, his thumb tapping over the steering wheel once he starts up the car.

he cringes at himself. it still feels weird saying shit like that. they usually just crack jokes and tease each other. but when he looks over at her, at how bright her smile is, he knows he’s going to keep saying stuff like that until it feels normal, because it’s worth it if she’s going look at him like that.

he suggests they hang out at the house and she happily agrees. they’re curled up on the couch and while they used to always subconsciously be touching in some way, their contact is much more intentional now.

rafe has his arm around her as they sit together. her knees are drawn up to her chest. the sports channel is always on at the house. on the screen is an nfl player sitting behind a microphone at a post-game press conference.

“you’re gonna hate that,” she says. “the interviews.”

his body always buzzes when she talks like that, like him going pro is inevitable. he’s confident in his skills, but not nearly as sure as her that he’ll make it to the nba.

“you think?” he mumbles, playing along.

“yeah, because you have to be media trained and it will not take,” she teases. “like, imagine you were interviewed about yesterday’s game.”

he squints his eyes, indulging her, thinking back to the win his team secured.

“a reporter asks you what you thought of the other team’s offensive approach,” she says. “what would you say?”

“they played like little bitches.”

“see?” she says with a laugh. “you’d lose all your brand deals in a second.”

“you think i’ll get brand deals?”

“mhm. and lots of girls,” she adds.

“already used to that.”

she slaps his chest.

“i’m breaking up with you,” she jokes.

“so, you finally admit it,” a voice from the top of the stairs says. they look up to see one of the other four basketball players living in the house coming down the steps.

“what do you mean?” she laughs.

“that there’s a relationship to break up,” liam clarifies. “you’re not just friends.”

rafe sighs. liam is one of his friends who never stops fucking with him about how married he is to her. rafe has told him time and time again that they’re just friends.

“yeah, we’re not,” he answers.

“you’re not what?” liam says.

“just friends.”

liam just looks at the two of them as they sit on the couch, blinking slowly.

“wait, for real?” his teammate asks.

“yeah,” rafe nods.

“you’re not denying it?”

“no.”

“i don’t know what to do.” liam scratches his head. “i’ve never gotten this far. uh… finally? congratulations?”

“thanks,” she chimes in.

he looks at them for another few seconds.

“this isn’t a joke?” liam says.

“no,” she answers.

“wow,” he says. “what took so long?”

“you can leave now,” rafe tells him.

“cool.”

she laughs as liam turns and heads down the hallway. the conversation goes about the same way with every other housemate as the news spreads.

eventually, she dozes off in front of the tv. she’s curled up in a ball, her hand wrapped around his bicep, her cheek on his shoulder. he can’t help but take a photo from his vantage point.

when she wakes up, she tells him she should go home. he drives her to her dorm. on the way, she’s scrolling on her phone and sees he posted a story. he hardly ever posts anything.

it’s a photo of her taken just over her head, her eyes closed, lashes resting over her cheeks, hand wrapped around rafe’s arm. it’s a sweet, almost intimate photo.

“wow,” she teases. “you’re going to hard launch me just like that?”

“sure. whatever the fuck that means.”

she laughs.

“you know, guys tend to unknowingly post the worst pictures of their girlfriends,” she tells him. “but this really isn’t that bad.”

“no shit,” he says.

“what, it can’t be bad if you took it?” she guesses, rolling her eyes.

“it can’t be bad ‘cause it’s you.”

she glances over at rafe, watching the passing street lights glowing over his handsome face. is this the kind of stuff he’s been thinking and never saying out loud? they were always honest with each other, but she gets why he wouldn’t say things like that if he thought them. it’s so far from friend territory.

she’s determined to do the same thing. to go back to saying everything on her mind to him, instead of stopping herself from sharing her affectionate thoughts like she’s gotten used to doing.

they share a long kiss before she gets out of the car. when she makes it to her room, she reposts the photo on her story, his account clearly linked. just so there’s no confusion and simply because she’s so giddy, she captions it: boyfriends can take good pics sometimes?

it reminds her of the first night they hooked up and she posted a photo of him shirtless in her room.

eventually, everyone on her squad and every basketball player on the team, including her ex-boyfriend, view the story. it’s crazy how part of the reason she and rafe even got together was for revenge over him. she was shattered when max broke things off, but he inadvertently pushed her towards her best friend.

now, there’s no way anyone can misconstrue things. rafe is her boyfriend. and she’s proud of it.

so, she keeps her promise to herself. she won’t miss any opportunity to tell rafe how much she likes him. she texts him: i’m so so so glad i met you

he replies: only three so’s?

she texts: +5 more so’s

he replies: better

then, her phone buzzes again with a text from him: me too baby. you really are my favorite person

(continuation)

[benedictscanvas]

be still, my foolish heart [1] - jamie tartt x reader

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

series warnings: lots of language throughout, some allusions to smut but nothing explicit, a LOT of fucking fluff mostly ngl

a/n: eeeek i have been furiously writing this the last few days and now that a few chapters are done i'm desperate to share. chapters will be out regularly, every couple of days or so. really hope you lot enjoy this one, i'm so grateful for all the recent love <3

series summary: when jamie gets called up to the england team for the first time, he's terrified. enter you, all smiles and swearing, and suddenly his only fear is falling head over boots for you.

next chapter | series masterlist

---

chapter one: to be alone with you

Jamie hadn’t found himself this nervous in quite a while. He’d been worried when he came back to Richmond of course - trying to prove to his team that he’d changed, that he was there for the right reasons, was a challenge. But he’d overcome it and now he had a family for the rest of his life. He thought very little could make him properly nervous anymore.

That was until he was sat in his childhood home, clutching his mum for dear life as they waited for the England team to be officially announced, refreshing the page over and over and over again on his phone. When it appeared at 2pm like clockwork and his eyes scanned the list of forwards only to find the name Jamie Tartt as clear as day, he was up in a moment, him and his mum screaming as they hugged each other and bounced around the room.

It had been the same at Richmond the next day, the congratulations coming thick and fast. He was overwhelmed and excited and eager to chat to every single person who’d listen to him about his dream coming true, but the nerves only kicked in when he was sat in a car with tinted windows a couple of weeks later, arriving at the training ground for his first ever training sessions, which would turn into his first ever England matches in just a few weeks time.

He didn’t know anyone here apart from a few Manchester City players who he had never said goodbye to, so he had no idea what they’d think of him. Sometimes, on a not-so-good day, his mind would wander to the idea of his old City mates laughing together about the shit he’d gotten up to the night before on Lust Conquers All. He hated thinking about it. He knew seeing their faces again would make him think about it more.

It had only been a few days but he missed Sam. Isaac and Colin and Beard and Ted and Keeley and Roy. Roy would have something so simultaneously horrible and inspiring to say to him right now. Richmond had become such a family, it was difficult to imagine playing football with anyone else.

“This is it, Mr Tartt,” the driver says, and that makes him feel even worse because Mr Tartt is his dad and he is not his dad. He hadn’t even realised they’d pulled into a car park.

“Just Jamie, yeah?” he says rather than running away as he gets out of the car. The man smiled, passed him the suitcase that had been sat in the boot of the car and drove off without a word. Now he was really alone.

He pulled his headphones from around his neck and placed them on his head, putting the playlist that the boys had curated for him back on. Ted had made everyone make a playlist for the boys on international duty over the summer, ‘somethin’ to remind you of home’, he’d said, and Jamie had honestly thought it was weird.

Now he was listening to ‘Adventure of a Lifetime’ by Coldplay, added to the playlist by none other than Ted himself, and he had to admit - it was catchy. And it reminded him of home.

He looked around for the entrance and spotted one other young man who he recognised from Liverpool making his way in at an entrance to his left, so he made a beeline for it.

He was just reaching the doors when a woman leaned into his eyeline just enough to catch his attention, just ahead of the doors. He was quick to tear the headphones from his head to avoid looking rude - it was his worst fear.

“Sorry, did ya say somethin’?” he asked, trying to wear a bright smile even if he knew it would come off a little worn. You appeared unphased, wearing a far brighter grin that he knew he could ever manage. It was warm; you were warm. And incredibly pretty, even though he was less keen on how quickly he noticed that.

“I tried to tell them that this whole thing would be a bit awkward when you had headphones on,” you said, and as he stepped closer to have a conversation, it was easier to notice that you were actually quite flustered, the bright grin masking some embarrassment, “I’m part of the PR team, we’re just doing some content for the Instagram. Ask the players what music they’re listening to when they walk in, people go crazy for it. If you’re trying to become the summer’s heartthrob, I recommend saying Taylor Swift.”

“They’re supposed to tell the truth!” a man beside you piped up, all nasal, but Jamie barely spared him a glance. He was still a little caught up in how pretty you really were the closer he got. You were very fucking pretty now that he was a couple of metres away, leaning on the handle of his suitcase. He scolded himself for even thinking about flirting with you.

You, now looking at the man who’d spoken as if you’d just remembered he was there. You cleared your throat.

“No, I know, sorry. I was just fucking with you,” you confirmed, turning back to Jamie, then wincing, “Playing with you, I mean. I swear I’m a very professional person and I don’t swear that much. At work.”

Jamie only realised a few moments into the silence that you were waiting for him to speak. He could feel the heat in his cheeks he had been desperate to keep at bay.

“I swear all the time,” he said, already kicking himself for how stupid that sounded, “Work or no work. Swear as much as you fuckin’ like.”

He can see at least a bit of your embarrassment leaking away, so maybe it hadn’t been such a stupid thing to say after all.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you say, head tilted in a way Jamie can only describe as fuckin’ adorable. All too quickly, you seem to snap back into work mode, “Anyway, Brian’s right. The truth would be preferable, but if the truth is Taylor Swift, good for you! Any chance you’d be willing to walk backwards a bit, then pretend to do this again for the camera?”

You had the decency to look embarrassed, again, to be asking, but he was quite sure he’d do whatever you wanted him to with those wide, pleading eyes of yours. Just the little kindness you’d provided had washed away a lot of the deep-seated fear he’d been feeling just moments prior. He’d do what he could to repay the favour.

“Yeah, ‘course, whatever you need. Just walk up, pretend I hear your question with me headphones on and then…answer?”

“You’re a natural, Jamie Tartt,” you offer up, signalling who he assumed was Brian to raise his camera back up and get ready. He can’t help himself, just like with his driver, although this time he hopes he won’t get blanked.

“Just Jamie, eh? Less syllables, an’ that.”

You nod and almost look impressed, but he can’t imagine why.

“I’m almost sure Just Jamie is the same number of syllables as Jamie Tartt actually,” you argue, and he almost thinks you’re serious until you break out in that big, bright grin again and he feels like he’s 16, “Sorry. Fucking with you again. You can call me Just Y/N if you like.”

Y/N. Suits you, he thinks. Almost as much as that shade of blue does, all rich and Richmond-esque. He’s sure he’s got a team shirt somewhere that matches that exact colour.

“It’s nice meeting ya, Just Y/N,” he says, then realises how much he’s smiling and needs to do something about it, “And you, Brian. It’s great to be ‘ere, actually, just in general like.”

You nod, kind. Brian does a signal Jamie doesn’t understand, but he walks back a few paces anyway and puts his headphones back on. This time, when you step forward to stop him, he knows what you’ve asked without hearing it and takes his headphones off with a genuine smile at you.

“Oh, this?” he says, making sure he doesn’t smirk when you giggle behind the camera at his acting, “Whole Richmond gang made a playlist for us international lot. Ted, the gaffer, he put a lot of inspirational stuff, you know? Right now it’s Adventure of a Lifetime, the one by Coldplay.”

He’s not sure if he’s meant to say all that or just say the name of the song, and he’s ready to ask if he should start over before Brian signals that he’s cut the camera and you’re gaping at him.

“Okay, I know I put it in your head that you could lie, but you’re actually telling the truth, right?”

Brian scoffs. The prick within Jamie wishes Brian didn’t exist.

“That was worse than just saying Taylor Swift to impress girls,” he mutters, and you make a face that only Jamie sees. You don’t like Brian either and he already likes having something in common with you.

“I know you think that music went downhill after the 1960s, Brian, but no need to take it out on literally everyone who comes through here today. We’re meant to be a fun greeting crew! Why don’t you go get a snickers or something?”

Brian looked disgruntled throughout your speech until you suggested a snickers - clearly the way to the man’s heart. He was turning and speed-walking to the what Jamie assumed was the nearest vending machine in no time.

Now you were pretty and assertive. A deadly combination in Jamie’s eyes, particularly when paired with the fact that he was now pretty sure you were Brian’s boss. You were staring after Brian reproachfully, with a bit of that embarrassment back that Jamie was desperate to rid you of.

“Uh, it was true, by the way,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, “I can go again if you don’t want me to say that much, or-“

“No! No no, that was-“ you shake your head in a disbelief he doesn’t understand, “Brian’s been like this forever. Please don’t take it personally. I’ve been trying not to all morning.”

“It’s okay, really,” he tries to reassure you, “He works for you?”

He can see the smirk that you try to hide. It’s endearing.

“No, not technically. I like that you think so, though,” you smile, a real one again, just as he’d hoped, “I don’t normally work with Brian, he’s usually a match cameraman, not so much PR. I was just a woman down today.”

Jamie leans in, all conspiratorial, because he simply cannot help it.

“You pulled the small straw, huh?”

You giggle a little and he can feel himself puffing up with pride.

“Short straw, you mean?” you laugh, and some of that pride deflates in his chest. He could have sworn it was small, “Either way, yes. Very much so. I’ll be glad when Tiff’s back at it.”

“So when ya said that you were part of the PR team…you actually meant that y’ run it, right?”

“Guilty. What gave me away?”

“Just an air about ya,” Jamie says, because he doesn’t have a fucking clue what to say. You seem to like his answer, ducking your head a little in a way that’s driving Jamie to distraction, so he decides he’s definitely getting in over his head here. He’d already decided he was not going to flirt. It was a terrible idea, “Anyway, I’ve taken up enough of y’ time. Are y’ sure me bit was okay?”

You look startled at the mention of how much time he’s taken up, like you haven’t even thought about it. Soon enough, that ducked head is gone, replaced by the shoulders back, head up attitude that you’d greeted him with, the one that had told him you were in charge. Professional. He couldn’t decide which version he liked more.

“It was perfect, they’ll love it. Such a great story, even better that it’s true,” you confirm, then you add, like you’ve been holding it in, “Richmond ‘til we die, right?”

He actually feels his heart skip, just for a moment: a moment that tells him he’s absolutely fucked. You look like you’ve just told him the biggest secret of the century and he can’t help but believe you. 

“You-“ he’s too breathy, has to cough to correct himself, “You’re a Richmond fan? Or do ya have to say that to all of us?”

“I’m not supposed to say that to any of you,” you grin, “We’re supposed to keep club level allegiances to ourselves. We’re all one England team and all that. But, you know, star striker tells you the most adorable story about your hometown club, it’s pretty hard not to tell them. Think you can keep it to yourself?”

He’d definitely do whatever you asked of him right now. He wants to go and call Keeley right away, but he already knows what she’ll say. Bad idea: wrong place, wrong time, wrong woman. She’d be right. He shakes aside all thoughts of any harmless flirting with the exceedingly kind, exceedingly pretty Richmond fan. 

“Me lips are sealed,” he says, and he mimes it. He even throws the invisible key in your direction and watches you pretend to struggle to catch it, then mime swallowing it yourself. You finish with a rather convincing gulp then nod at him, like you've just entered a blood pact. He nods back, matching the serious energy.

“Enjoy England camp, Just Jamie,” you say, still with an air of fake seriousness the two of you are keeping up. He wants to shake your hand, continue to play pretend, but there’s the sound of a suitcase behind him and he knows you have work to do. He hopes you don’t like anyone's music choice more than his.

“See ya around, Just Y/N.”

You both nod again and it’s getting a bit stupid now but the two of you seem to want to keep it up. He tries ever so hard not to look back at you once he’s inside, and he almost manages it until he hears you talking to the next arrival. He turns to see you in full professional flow��

With two of his old City teammates.

It’s a bucket of cold water over his head. One pretty girl to greet him and he’s managed to use it as a distraction, a way of forgetting all his doubts, worries, fears. Seeing the two City guys brings them back full force, so he glances back at you once more, then turns to delve further into the training complex, hoping to find another face as friendly as yours.

There’s a voice in his head telling him that would be impossible, but he doesn’t want to listen to it right now.

---

if you got this far, i fucking love you <3 oneshot/drabble requests remain open for sexy little jamie tartt and his grumpy bestie roy!!

[canirove]

Ben Chilwell Imagine | seven

Author's note: Just something random I came up with the other day after seeing this post by @lovelynikol16 She wrote it about Mason, but I feel like these days we need some cute and nice Ben content, so I wrote it for him. As always, I hope you like it, and thank you for reading! 💜 Little summary: Ben Chilwell, the football player you've had a crush on for years acknowledges you on his Instagram stories after you win a gold medal at the Olympic Games, and your friends convince you to slide into his dms 👀 (female reader/pov)

Masterlist

“Oh my God!”

“What… No!”

“What are you two gasping about?” I ask my teammates. 

“You won't believe who just congratulated you for your gold medal and said that he is, and I quote, very proud of you” one of them says, showing me her phone.

“Holy shit. Is that… Is that real?”

“Very very real” she says. “Check your phone if you don't believe us.”

“He also started following me.”

“What?” they both say, moving to stand one at each side of me so we can all see my phone's screen. 

“He shared that story congratulating me, and he started following me” I say, still not believing what the little notification says. 

Ben Chilwell. Ben freaking Chilwell, Chelsea and England National Team player… Has congratulated me for my gold medal at the Olympic Games, said that he is very proud of me AND started to follow me on Instagram.

What… the fuck.

“Girl, you seriously have to slide into his dms and tell him thank you or something.”

“What?” I laugh.

“You've had a crush on him for ages and now he has discovered that you exist and knows who you are. Make your move!” my teammate says.

“I… I can't do that. What if he doesn't reply? What if his account is run by a pr person and not him and I make a fool of myself? What if…”

“What if, what if, what if” my other teammate says, rolling her eyes. “You are just texting him a thank you, not asking him to marry you… yet” she smirks.

“Idiot” I reply, giving her a little push.

“C'mon, send him a message.”

“And what do I say? Thank you for your support?”

“For example” she shrugs.

“Ok” I say, taking a deep breath and starting to type.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

Thank you very much for your support, Ben. It means a lot! ☺️

And good luck for this season, it's gonna be the one! 💙

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Is that ok?” I ask my teammates.

“Perfect.”

“Now what?” 

“Now we just wait for his reply.”

“If he replies…” I sigh.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Today we finally had some time off and we left the villa to do some… Mum, I have to go.”

“What? Why?” she says over facetime. 

“Something has come up.”

“Something like what? Is it bad? You look… weird.”

“No, no. It's just a team meeting. I'll call you again after dinner, ok?”

“Ok. But…”

“Love you, mum” I say, ending the call before she can say goodbye. And why? Because an Instagram notification that just popped up on my screen, one I had lost all hope would get to see. “Ok, you can do this” I say to myself, taking a deep breath and tapping on it.

Why the hell are my hands shaking so much? Aaahhh!

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

Thank you very much for your support, Ben. It means a lot! ☺️

And good luck for this season, it's gonna be the one! 💙

You're very welcome!! 💙  You seriously are amazing. My mates and I watched you perform (if that's the right word? 🫣) and you were fucking amazing 😱 Also sorry for the late reply but we just got back from the US and the jetlag has been kicking my ass 😴

Wow, thank you. You are gonna make me blush 😳

And don't worry, I've been there with the jetlag 😅

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

Don't worry, don't worry, but I've been having dreams with him replying to my dm since the day I sent it. And he already is making me blush, but shh.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

Just telling the truth 🤷🏻‍♂️ Also thank you very much for the luck! We will be needing it this season. Especially me 🙈

Last season was a tough one, wasn't it?

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

Of course it was, you idiot. He spent half of it injured!

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

But hey, when I was 19 I injured my knee  and doctors told me there were high chances of not being able to do gymnastics again, yet look at me right now. I've won a gold medal at the Olympic Games, and I've done it against probably the best gymnast in history!

If I was able to come back, so will you. I believe in you, Ben! 💪🏻

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“I believe in you, Ben… God, I'm so lame” I say to myself.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

Thank you very much 🥺💙 I may have to hire you as my motivational coach or something 😜 How much the hour? 

Well, since you play for my team, I think I can give you a discount 

Wait, then it is true? Do you support Chelsea? I read it online but wasn't sure

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

Has he… has he been googling me? What?

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

Chelsea girl since the day I was born

I actually left the hospital wearing a tiny Chelsea hat and had a matching bib

No way! 😱  Is there a photo? 👀

There is 

May I see it? 😇

Ummm…

Please 🥺🥺🥺

Ok, fine

But only because it is you.

If this ends up anywhere online, I know where to find you, Chilwell 🧐

It won't leave my phone, I promise 😇🤞🏻 Also you were such a cute baby!! 😍 And still are Cute I mean Not a baby You obviously are a woman A cute woman I mean, beautiful Women are beautiful and you are a beautiful woman  Sorry 🤦🏻‍♂️

It's ok, don't worry 😅😂

Thank you ☺️

And same 😉

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

Did I… Did I just kind of flirt with him? After he said I was a cute baby and that now I am a beautiful woman? Ummm… hello?

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

Am I a cute baby or a beautiful woman? 🤔😜

You are a very handsome man who also happens to be very cute

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

There. I said it. I just told Ben Chilwell that he is handsome and cute. Do men like being called cute? Is that a turn off? Urgh.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

Thank you 😳😳😳😳 That's my face right now, btw

What? 😂

You've made me blush 😳

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Yeah, sure” I snort.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

Photo or didn't happen 

I look like shit right now You don't want to see that

I disagree 🤷🏼‍♀️ 

Fine 🙄 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Looking like shit, he says… You look bloody gorgeous, Benjamin” I say, zooming on the pic. How can someone be this handsome and look this good on a random selfie? It isn't fair. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

That's not looking like shit

Like shit is how I look after training for more than 12 hours 

And I can't see you blushing with the beard

Should I shave it?

You won't dare!

Team beard? 😂

Team beard forever 💙

Interesting 🤔 Most girls don't like it They say it bothers them when I kiss them

Those girls know nothing 🙄

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

I mean, if a guy like him is kissing you, who cares if it feels a bit itchy? Also, have they seen his lips? Like, urgh.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

I promise you I will keep my beard for the day we meet 😇 Which length do you prefer?

The one you always have the day before you shave

I hate it when you do that

It gets good and pum

Gone

Also, are we meeting? Since when? 🤨

Sorry 🙈 And I was thinking that maybe I could have a chat with the team and see if I can invite you to pay us a visit at Cobham  Since you are a Chelsea fan since the day you were born, I think it would be cool A little homage after winning your medal  I've never seen one in real life, you know?

Oh, so you just want to see the medal, not me

Cool

What? No, no, no I want to see you And the medal Both things But mostly you The medal is cool but…  God, I'm rambling again, am I not?🤦🏻‍♂️

A bit, yeah😅

But it's ok, don't worry 

Thank you 💙 I do it all the time when I get nervous 🙈

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

He is feeling nervous? Him? Benjamin James Chilwell? What? And most importantly, why?

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

So, should I ask the team if they are up to it? Would you like to come to Cobham and have a tour?

Would you be my tour guide?

It'll be my honour Unless you have a favourite player and want him to do it instead 

He just said it would be an honour to do it 🤷🏼‍♀️

Am I your favourite player? 😏

No

Try to fix it now 😜 Anyway, I'll keep you updated, ok? 

Ok

😘😘 (Imagine they have a beard 🧔🏻)

😂😂🥰

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Wow” I say, putting my phone down. “Just… wow.”

I just had a proper chat with Ben Chilwell. With the guy I've had a crush on since he played for Leicester. And we've flirted. Like, he called me beautiful. And he said he wanted to meet me. To see me in person. Me. 

And I didn't freak out. I mean, I did, but it didn't show. I think. It is easier to not do it through texts, but just look at him and his rambling. Who thought he would be like this when he usually looks so confident and sure of himself? When he definitely has a lot more experience on this than I do? And that photo he sent me? Dear lord. He is handsome. He's stupidly handsome. Gorgeous. He…

“I have to show the girls” I blurt out while grabbing my phone, quickly getting up from my bed and leaving my room.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

Ok, I have good news and bad news Which ones do you want first?

Bad 🫣

The Cobham visit isn't possible 😞 There are some things going on and… yeah 🫤

Shame 😞

The good news are really good news, tho Are you ready? 😏

Ready

Ok… How would you feel…  About…

Are you always this slow? 🙄

Just with good things that are worth going slow for 😏

Ben, you are making me nervous! 😩

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

Because telling him that what he's actually doing is kind of turning me on just by thinking about what things he does that are worth going slow for, may be a bit too much, right?

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

I'm sorry, I'm sorry So… How would you feel… About…

BENJAMIN!!

Ok, ok 😂 How would you feel about a guest appearance during our first game of the season at Stamford Bridge?  We are playing against Manchester City, it's gonna be a big one Hey Are you still there? Hello? Oh my God, I killed her Her heart couldn't take the news 💔 Jokes aside, are you ok? Why aren't you replying? Should I call someone? Did something happen?

Hi, sorry 

There you are 😮‍💨 What happened? Are you ok?

Yeah, yeah

I was just… processing 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

And maybe jumping on my bed after reading his message. 

Me being a guest appearance at Stamford Bridge? And during a Chelsea- Manchester City? That's… that's… I have no words to describe it.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

And what's the outcome of all that processing? 😅

Yes

Yes what? 🤨🤔

Yes, I want to go to the game and do a guest appearance and yes

Yes yes yes YES!!!!!

Ok, I think now I got it May need another yes, tho 😂

🙄

😜😜 Anyway  The team said they will give you a shirt with your name and then you'll take some photos, show the medal to everyone, do that first kick, maybe give a little interview for the team's social media… The usual And you are gonna be attending as my very special guest and will be sitting in my box 😏

Wait

With your family and friends?

Yeah Unless that makes you uncomfortable and you prefer to sit somewhere else I should have probably asked you before telling the team, shouldn't I? Urgh, I'm so stupid 🤦🏻‍♂️

No, no 

That's ok

Though one question…

Sure 

Am I allowed to take someone with me as a plus one? 

I would like for my dad to be there with me, he's the one who made me a Chelsea girl 🥹

Of course!  I'll discuss it with the team, but I don't think there will be any problem  Though I don't know how my plan for after the game would work if you have your dad there with you 🤔

Your plan? What plan? 🤨

I was planning on taking you out for dinner 🫣

You and I?

Yeah You and I A date 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

A date. A fucking date. I… asdfghjklñ.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

I'll think of something, don't worry 

Is that a yes to having dinner with me, then? 😏

It is, yes

Cool ☺️ Looking forward to it 😘🧔🏻 

Same 🥰

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Bloody… hell” I whisper, putting down my phone after sending that last text.

I just said yes to going on a date with Ben Chilwell. And I'm gonna be a guest appearance at Stamford Bridge for the first game of the season. And my dad is gonna be there to watch it all. And after I'm going on a date with Ben Chilwell.

Bloody hell, indeed.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“I can't believe we are here. Like… woah” my dad chuckles.

“Yeah…” I say.

We are at Stamford Bridge, and not in the stands like so many times before. We are in the tunnel waiting until they call me to go on the pitch, show my medal and kick that ball, hopefully not embarrassing myself in front of everyone and, of course, in front of Ben.

Right now he is chatting with the referee, stretching and laughing about something. And he hasn't shaved or touched his hair. 

He sent me a photo last night asking me if I liked how his beard looked, and I obviously told him that he looked perfect (which isn't too difficult) and that he should also keep his hair like that if it didn't bother him while playing. So there he is now, with his beard and his curls free of that bloody hair gel, looking gorgeous. 

“Miss? It's time” the Chelsea staff member who has accompanied us since we arrived says.

“Shit, ok. Ummm… thank you” I smile.

“You can do this, pickle” my dad says, putting his hands on my shoulders. “I mean, you've won a gold medal in front of the whole world, haven't you? This is nothing compared to that.”

“Or everything” I sigh.

“You can do this” he repeats, giving my shoulders an encouraging squeeze.

“Miss?”

“Yes, sorry. I can do this” I say, taking a deep breath and giving my dad a quick kiss on the cheek before following the staff member, the whole stadium cheering as the speaker announces my name.

Maybe I can't do this. Maybe I should go back inside, say I'm not feeling well. Maybe I… But then I see him. Ben.

He's standing in the middle of the pitch with the referee and Rúben Dias, Manchester City's captain today. Usually I would also give him a good look because… well. I have eyes and he is, you know. But right now those eyes can only focus on the person wearing the darker shade of blue, the one with a smile that makes my knees feel like jelly but that at the same time is what is making me walk and do what I'm supposed to. Like waving at the crowd and all that.

“Congratulations, miss” the referee says, shaking my hand. He is the bald one who looks like Iniesta according to my dad, can't remember his name.

“Thank you” I reply.

“Congratulations” Rúben Dias says next, also shaking my hand. 

“Thank you” I say, somehow managing to smile. And then…

“Congratulations… again” Ben chuckles, giving me a hug. “You look beautiful, by the way. Chelsea blue suits you” he whispers.

“Thank you” I mutter, my cheeks on fire when he moves and winks at me. 

Now this is the confident Ben Chilwell I'm used to, not he guy who starts rambling because he gets nervous while texting, which is something that still haven't been able to stop thinking about.

“Can you pose for some photos, please?” someone says behind me.

“Yes, of course” Ben says, his arm suddenly around my waist, moving me to stand between him and the referee.

“Big smiles…” the photographer says.

But I'm not able to focus my attention on him. I can only think about Ben's arm, about the way his thumb is moving on my back, kind of caressing it and trying to make me… I don't know, relax? But how can I relax when he is doing that? 

And then, when the referee moves so I am standing between him and Dias… Wow. I'm pretty sure there are many people out there who are wishing they were me right now. Though once again, I can only focus on Ben's arm, on how he has pulled me closer to him as if… Nah. It can't be. He can't be doing that because he is jealous of Dias, is he? He…

“Ok, we are done. Thank you” the photographer says, bringing me back to the real world.

“Time for that first kick” Ben says, definitely taking his time to move his arm from around my body. 

“When you are ready, miss” the referee says, putting the ball in front of me.

“Which way do I go?” I ask him.

“That way, towards the other Chelsea players.”

“You can do this, c'mon” Ben says with an encouraging smile. 

“Ok” I say, taking a deep breath and…

“That's it, well done!” he laughs, one of his teammates stopping the ball, the whole stadium cheering. 

“This way, miss” the staff member from earlier says.

“Yes, ummm… Nice to meet you” I say, giving a shy wave towards Dias and the referee, who reply with little nods. “Chilwell.”

“See you later” he winks. Again. How have I not tripped with my own feet after seeing that will remain a mystery.

“That was amazing, pickle!” my dad says when I join him on the tunnel.

“I just kicked a ball, dad.”

“Isn't that what they all do?” he laughs. “Anyway, let's go find our seats. I don't want to miss anything, and knowing that Haaland guy, he is able to score two goals in five minutes. Again.”

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“And… yeah. It was a good game. Still a lot of work to do, but it's just the first of the season.”

“Will we be seeing you again at Stamford Bridge?”

“My dad comes to all home games and some away ones, so I hope so” I smile.

“Looking forward to seeing you. And… we are done. Thank you very much for being so patient” the interviewer says. “You must be tired of giving interviews.”

“For my beloved Chelsea I have all the time in the world” I chuckle. “Thank you for having me.”

“Well done, pickle” my dad smiles when I join him.

“Dad, can you please stop calling me that in front of strangers?” I say, looking around. 

“Why? It is your nickname.”

“Yeah, but… it's something for family only.”

“Chelsea are our family” he says. “And speaking of that, I should probably get going if I want to make it home for dinner with your mum. Where are you meeting with the girls?”

“At the restaurant. I already have a car ready to come pick me up.”

That had been the excuse I had come up with to stay for a bit longer at Stamford Bridge before meeting with Ben for our date. Our date. I still can't believe I am going on a date with Ben fucking…

“Chilwell!” my dad suddenly says.

“What?” I say, turning around.

“Hello” Ben says with his best smile as he walks towards us. 

“Look, pickle. It's Ben Chilwell!”

“I know, dad” I say, feeling my face on fire. 

“She's a big fan of yours, you know? She even has a poster of you in her room.”

“Dad!” I gasp.

“What? It's the truth, isn't it?” he shrugs. “You look better in the picture she has, tho. What is with all that?” he says, touching his face.

“My beard?” Ben says, running a hand through it and making me want to do the same, something that doesn't help with the current temperature of my face.

“Yeah. You are in need of a shave, son.”

“We'll see” he smiles. “Did you enjoy the game? Was everything ok with your seats?”

“It was perfect” my dad says, not allowing me to talk. “We actually sat next to your mum and your sister!”

“Did you?” Ben says, acting as if he was surprised. Because my dad thinks it was Chelsea's idea to invite us here tonight, not just Ben's. How do I explain to him that I had slid into his dms and that he had suggested it after some flirting?

“We did. You have a lovely family.”

“Thank you” Ben smiles. “Anyway, I came here hoping to catch you and get a pic just the two of us, maybe see that medal up close?” he says, looking my way.

“Oh, yes. Of course” I say, finally being able to be part of the conversation.

“Cool. Rob, hey!” he says, calling for the photographer who had been with us the whole day. “Would you mind taking some photos of us together? Maybe some with my phone too?”

“Of course” the photographer says.

And while we get ready for those photos, guess what happens again?Yes, Ben puts his arm around my waist, that thumb back to its previous shenanigans and to sending waves of heat all over my body.

“May I get one too?” my dad says when we are almost done.

“It'll be my pleasure” Ben says with his best smile while I just pray for this torture to end soon. And with torture I'm not only talking about having Ben that close and everything he is making me feel. I'm also talking about my dad saying things he shouldn't and embarrassing me in front of him.

“Are we done now?” I ask.

“Why such a hurry?” my dad chuckles. “You aren't meeting with the girls until later, are you?” 

“I'm not, no. But Ben probably has plans with his friends and family, and I don't want you getting home too late. Especially when mum is waiting and you are carrying this” I say, taking off my medal.

“Wait… Can I… Ummm… Can I touch it?” Ben asks me.

“Oh, yes, sure.”

“Thank you” he says, smiling like a little kid on Christmas morning. He looks so happy. “This is amazing, isn't it? So cool. Wow.”

“You've already won some of those yourself, son” my dad chuckles.

“I have. But none of those are as big as an Olympic gold medal. I mean, the Champions League is quite big, don't get me wrong. But this one is just…” he says, inspecting the medal as if it was the most wonderful thing he had ever seen, somehow making me… emotional? What? “Thank you very much for letting me hold it. It means a lot” he says, giving it back to me.

“Don't you want a photo with it too?” my dad asks him.

“There is no need. But thank you, sir.”

“Well, then I better get going. May I?”

“Uh?” I say, being brought back into the real world once again after my dad stops whatever was going on between me and Ben after he had handed me back my medal and our fingers had touched, our eyes getting locked on each other's. 

“The medal, pickle” he chuckles.

“Oh, yes, sure. Sorry.”

“Chilwell, will you keep an eye on my girl until she has to go? I know she is in good hands with you, our vice captain! Or captain like happened tonight.”

“I will, don't worry” Ben says, giving my dad his best smile. If only he knew…

“Great. Don't forget to text us, ok?” he says, kissing my cheek.

“I won't. Love you, dad.”

“Love you too” he says before waving goodbye, walking down the tunnel and already in deep conversation with the staff member who has helped us throughout the day.

“You have a really nice dad… pickle” Ben smirks.

“Oh my God” I say, covering my face with my hands. “I can't believe you heard that.”

“Why? It's cute.”

“It isn't. It's embarrassing.”

“It's cute” he says, his hands suddenly on mine, moving them from my face and making me look at him. “Hi” he smiles.

“Hi” I whisper. 

“Did you really enjoy today?” 

“Yeah” I nod. 

“Do you want a tour of the stadium?”

“Now?”

“Now. Perks of being Chelsea's vice captain, or captain tonight like your dad said” he says.

“I… umm…”

“C'mon, say yes… pickle” Ben says with a teasing smile.

“I swear to God, Chilwell. If you call me that again, I'm leaving.”

“What? No, no, no, no. I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry" he apologizes, the way he is looking at me making my heart sink. "I won't say it again, I promise.”

“Thank you. And I'm sorry if that came out too… harsh. Too many emotions today.”

“I get it, don't worry. And again, I'm sorry” he says, that thumb back to caressing me. Though this time you could say it is even worse, because there is no fabric between it and my skin since he still has his hands on mine.

“Yeah, ummm… I think we should start with that tour before they close the stadium with us inside.”

“We should, yes” he says, his smile coming back and making my heart skip a beat. “Let's go” he says, letting go of one of my hands but still holding the other, interlacing our fingers except for one. That one. 

Because as he walks me down the tunnel and starts telling me all the details about the stadium, that thumb is constantly moving over my skin. And even though at first I feel like it is burning where he is touching me, after a while I stop noticing it and it feels like what I guess he was looking for since the beginning. Like something natural, something comforting. Something even… intimate, just between him and I.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Ben?”

“Yeah?” he says, turning to look at me as I stop walking.

“Why are we back in the tunnel?” 

“The… Oh, yes… Umm…” he says, running his free hand through his hair. Because yes, you guessed it. The other still is holding mine. 

He didn't let go of me as he showed me around the stadium and told me anecdotes about the building that I didn't know about or about things that had happened to the team since he joined them, all while sharing little moments that go from shy smiles to loud laughs that would have definitely made people give us a weird look if we hadn't been alone, and everything in between. At times he even started rambling like when we were texting, the cheekiness and confidence disappearing and his nerves taking over him like it is happening right now.

“I have a surprise for you.”

“What?”

“Come” he says, giving my hand a little squeeze and starting to go up the stairs that lead to the pitch.

Most of the lights have been turned off and only a couple are still on, lightning one spot in the grass. One where there is something that looks like… 

“Ben, is that… Is that what I think it is?” I ask him, stopping as we set foot on the pitch.

“If you are thinking about a picnic, it is, yes” he smiles before moving to stand behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. “My original idea was to go to a nice restaurant, but then I thought that if we didn't want to have to worry about someone recognising us and going to the press, we would have to go to one of the most exclusive ones and I wanted something more chilled for our first date. So I started thinking about different options, checked Instagram for some inspo, and came up with this.”

“Ben, I… I… I don't know what to say. I…” I mumble.

“Do you like it?”

“I do” I say, moving in his arms to face him, not expecting to end up being so close to him. To have my chest against his as I rest my hands on his arms (or his biceps to be more precise), our noses almost touching. We are so close, that I can see his freckles perfectly. So close, that just by moving a tiny bit I could kiss him if I had the guts to do it. “I love it, Ben.”

“Thank God” he says, letting out a big sigh and making us both laugh. “In case my rambling hadn't given it away, I was so nervous about this... About you not liking it... I thought that maybe it was too much, but since you have been a Chelsea girl literally since the day you were born… I don't know” he shrugs.

“It's perfect, so no need to be nervous anymore” I smile.

"Easier said than done" he chuckles.

"Uh?"

"In case you haven't noticed, you make me nervous" he says, caressing my cheek. "But in a good way."

"I... umm..." I mumble, feeling my whole face on fire. "Is this picnic the reason why you texted me the other day asking me what kind of food I Iike?” I asking, trying to change the topic of conversation.

“Yep” he says. “Who knew I wasn't the only person in this country who hadn't had Chinese yet.”

“I honestly don't understand why people made such a fuss about it” I shrug.

“Well, you are about to find out” Ben says, taking my hand again and leading me towards our little picnic set. 

“Is that… Is that a Chelsea blanket?” I laugh.

“And a Chelsea picnic basket and cutlery. Look” he says, opening it. “I had no idea they sold such random things in the gift shop” he laughs.

“Oh, this is nothing compared to what other teams sell.”

“Like?”

“I've seen a West Ham garter.”

“What?” he laughs again.

“Yeah” I shrug. “Anyway, should we sit down? Something smells really good and I can't wait to find out what it is.”

“Of course. My lady” Ben smiles, helping me sit down and making me giggle.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Don't tell your friends, but I still don't understand why the fuss about Chinese food.”

“Says the person currently licking her fingers after not leaving anything on her plate” Ben laughs.

“I was hungry” I shrug.

“Sure.”

“I was” I insist.

“And I said sure” he says with a teasing smile. “Are you still hungry for some dessert, tho?”

“Always.”

“Then get ready for the best tiramisu you've ever tasted.”

“Tiramisu after Chinese food?” I chuckle.

“Why not? And this is homemade.”

“Made by who? You?” I tease him.

“Nope. My mum.”

“Your mum made us tiramisu?"

"She made me tiramusi. She has no idea we are here together right now. Like your dad, she also thinks I am having dinner with my mates" he smiles. "And here” Ben says, offering me a spoon full of tiramisu. “Open your mouth.”

“What?”

“C'mon” he says, trying really hard to not smirk. “You are gonna love it, you'll see.”

“Ok” I say, leaning forward and doing as he says. 

“And?”

“Of my gof!”

“What?” he laughs.

“Oh my God, Ben. This is amazing!” I say again once I've managed to swallow.

“Told you” he says with a cheeky smile. “But you…” 

“Uh?”

“You have something… Let me...” he says, moving on the blanket even closer than we already are, one hand holding my face by my chin while the thumb of the other (yes, that thumb) moves over my lower lip, making me gasp. “There, perfect” he smiles.

“Thank you” I manage to say, none of us moving a single centimetre, his hand still on my face. It's like the world has stopped, like it is just me and him. And then…

“May I kiss you?” he whispers.

“Please” I whisper back before it finally happens. No more imagining how it is to feel those glorious lips of his on mine. Now it is actually happening, and it is… it is… Wow. Just wow. “Did it tickle you?”

“Uh?”

“My beard. Did it tickle you like all those girls have said?” Ben says against my lips.

“I already told you that those girls know nothing, Benjamin. But…” I say, finally making my dream of touching his beard a reality.

“But?” he asks.

“I think we should keep kissing to be sure they just talk bullshit.”

“Ok” he laughs. "May I kiss you again, then?"

"You may" I smile before he kisses me again, proving that, indeed, those girls know nothing. 

[idontlikeem]

hi! i'd like to talk about losing. you don't have to read this if you don't want to, but i wanted to write it, and guess what, it's my blog. i just like this team a lot and i'm feeling a little maudlin about my guys and a little sick to fucking death of the shit i'm seeing all over kingdom come from 'fans'. so here we are.

So You Became A Fan Of A Living Legend But The Hockey Team Is Bad: a commentary.

look. this is not the most fun i've ever had watching hockey, and i'm quite sure a lot of people feel the same way. the penguins are bad this season! they were bad last season too, but there's something very special about the extent to which they are shit right now. and those are not fun games to watch.

but here's the thing: who cares.

like, idk. there's so much god damn negativity surrounding this team and its performance right now, and i'm guilty of contributing to it as well, because yeah of course i'd rather watch a team win in decisive fashion most nights. of course i'd rather dream about may and june and the stanley cup. of course i want to watch that happen again for my favorite players. like, duh.

but. it's probably not going to. not if these players get what they want, which is to play together on this team until they're ready to retire.

and you know what? that's fine. if they're fine with it, who on earth am i to not be?

i think we all have the same reaction when we see idiots online saying things like 'sid doesn't deserve this trade him to a contender'. and that's because we are smarter and more refined fans who understand that what sidney crosby DESERVES is to select how and where and when his career ends. is it on a team that sucks? then that means being here is more important to him than getting that fourth cup. staying with geno and kris and the penguins as a whole, never putting on another NHL logo, is more significant to him personally than another victory. and isn't that special? isn't that worth celebrating?

of course we know all of that because we're better at being fans than the uncles online who are writing weird fanfic in their heads. but. guess what that comes with:

losing.

and losing badly, in the case of this season.

i am here to tell you that sitting and bitching about it helps no one. right now, what we have to watch and celebrate is our favorite players still playing at a high level. they're still doing cool stuff on the ice. and they're doing it TOGETHER. this is what they wanted. so your options are either to hate it and sit in negativity about it each and every game, OR readjust your mindset and learn to enjoy what we have while we have it.

we are watching myth-making happen live. we are watching living legends play hockey. this is a privilege and an honor and it's not something most fanbases get EVER. and we have two! can you believe it?

there are things i would have rather seen done differently over the last couple of years. as far back as 2019 there were moves i disagreed with and changes that could have been made that perhaps could have extended their window. and of course the 2022 series against the rangers, that was a very good team that got hit by injuries at the absolute worst possible time, and probably that was their last chance as a core to compete. it's frustrating to watch that stuff happen when you have no control over it.

the pittsburgh penguins were high-end competitors and contenders for seventeen years straight. that's insane and unheard of in this league. they're not anymore. and the price you pay for almost two decades of dominance is...being bad. when you're competing you trade prospects and draft picks for win-now players. sometimes those work out, most of the time they don't. with the amount of winning this team has done, even the trades that didn't work were worth it, because it meant they were trying.

there are no fanbases who are going to feel bad for penguins fans right now. that's also why we're getting so much attention from the national media. people aren't used to this team being as bad as it is, and people like watching downfalls. that's fine. most of those fans have never watched their team win, and most of them never will. so if their joy is coming from sidney crosby's team being bad....well, love and light, you know?

and we shouldn't feel bad for ourselves either. this is what happens. this is how it goes. this is the price for the band staying together.

i dunno, guys. this is a disjointed rant. it's just so effing hard to be kicked in the nuts everywhere you go with unrelenting negativity. it's on twitter it's in the articles and yes, it's here too. but if you can't be a fan of a team when they're bad, then i'm sorry but you're not a fan of the team (or certain players), you're a fan of winning. and NO team wins all the time every year. that's not how sports work.

we are lucky. at least, i feel lucky! don't you? gosh, sidney crosby scored his 600th career goal tonight. evgeni malkin is over 500 goals on his career. can you believe that? it's amazing to watch.

and it's going to be over in less than two years. do we really want to waste it by wishcasting something that's not going to happen instead of enjoying what we DO have?

if the media bums you out, don't listen. don't read the articles. don't go on twitter. dry your tears on the stanley cup banners that sid and geno hung up—there are three to choose from!

[majasleeps]

Ice Breaker

(first fanfic on here so idk how to format it but it'll be fine. also i'll be mainly making shit up so if anyone plays hockey... my apologies in advance lol)

Tim Lafleur x gn!reader

summary: you're a hockey player and a damn good one at that. You've loved being on the ice as long as you can remember and ever since discovering hockey it's been difficult to get you off the ice! You play in a local team for a college in Virginia and one day you encounter a particular boy on an opposing team.

1991

It's a few weeks before the high school tournaments start and your hockey team is in the rink practicing.

"FUCK!" the person you just slammed into the edge of the rink lets out a series of curses. You hear a whistle from your coach and you roll your eyes already knowing the reason. Yet he still yells it out for everyone to hear, "L/N! Excessive violence! Last warning or you're getting pulled."

You groan to yourself but nod at him in acknowledgement anyway and skate back to your post. Of course you help the person you technically assaulted since he was your teammate after all.

Yup, this was just practice but why shouldn't you give it your all here too? At least that's your reasoning. Especially seeing how you'll be up against actual other teams in just a few weeks. You had to be ready!

Well anyway you go on to train more, get a few warnings here and there, actually get put on the bench after causing one of your team player's nose to bleed. And the weeks pass by like it was nothing.

You're in the rink, getting ready in your position as you stare down some of the members of the opposing team, 'the enemies', as you dubbed them in your head.

And even though all of the players are 15 year olds, one stands out to you, mainly because he's quite a bit taller than the other kids, even compared to your team. But no time to think on that as the start signal is given. Everyone shoots in action and you're thriving in the competition. One person gets tackled, then another, someone shoots and misses and the other scores. It feels exhilarating especially looking at the board and seeing you're one point ahead.

Time's almost up and that tall kid from before seems to think he's gonna get a final puck in before the timer goes off. Well not on your watch. As he skates closer, evading the offensive lines on your team, he's getting ready to shoot. But just before he gets the chance you slam him to the ground with your own body, and a whistle and airhorn signal that 1) you got a warning (what a surprise) but 2) time's up. And your team won.

You celebrate inwardly for a quick second before getting up and stretching out your hand to the boy you tackled out of good sportsmanship. Although he doesn't seem to appreciate it, he smacks your hand away, gets up while ripping of his helmet, "What is your problem?!" he semi-yells.

You take off your own helmet so he can see your disgruntled expression. You shrug and say "Losing, losing is my problem so I won't lose."

He scoffs and skates away and you do the same to go celebrate with your team.

And even though this first impression was pretty sour, you can't tell if it bettered or not throughout the years. Neither of you ever knew each other that well, always different schools, always different districts yet somehow you two would always end up facing each other on the ice.

Years went by and you actually started to enjoy this rivalry between the two of you. Sometimes you won and he'd be pouty but sometimes you lost and he couldn't stop smirking. In the beginning that for sure bothered you but as this went on you didn't mind losing to him anymore. As you grew older of course you started learning things about him as well, like that his name is Tim Lafleur and a weird kid in general, at least according to every teammate he's ever had.

1998

Now he is in a university and you're in college and with busy life styles it doesn't leave much room for socializing. But you could always count on the ice to bring the two of you together. Over the years most of the original teams miraculously stayed pretty much the same. Here and there someone left and someone else took their place but amongst both your teams it had become a sort of unspoken rule that in the rink, no one gets to tackle you except Tim, and no one tackled Tim but you.

You're in the game playing against Tim's team and it's going great. The score is 2-2 and you're thrilled whenever you get closer to the goal because Tim would of course try to prevent you from getting even closer. And if you didn't know better, you'd think he was enjoying himself as much as you were.

Another goal scored by your team so you're now in the lead. Tim has the puck and is getting awfully close to a good position to score a goal. So you head straight for him, however you suppose the new fella in your team didn't get the memo about that unspoken rule. Because as you're almost there, the new guy slams Tim into the wall and a nauseating crack can be heard. Now usually when it's you, sure you're rough but Tim had always been smiling and gotten up within a few seconds.

But now... he lay there, silently groaning and not making a move to get up. A shock had not just overcome you but both teams and the entire crowd, everyone was silent. You were the first to snap out of it and rush to Tim.

"Jesus fuck! Are you alright Tim? Are you hurt?" you question him as you get down on your teams and turn him on his back. When you do he lets out a sharp gasp and you see that something is definitely wrong with his wrist...it's bend, and not in the right direction.

You turn to your teammate and yell out at him, "What is wrong with you?! You broke his fucking wrist, dickbag!!"

Another groan from Tim and your head immediately flies to him, speaking softly and reassuring him he'll be fine. By this time the coach has already come up to you two and informed the stand-by medics. People shot in action and in seemingly no time, Tim got carried away, and you were left to stand alone on the cracked ice.

After everything has calmed down, you go up to your coach.

"Hey coach? Is Tim gonna be alright?" He looks at you and lets out a slow breath.

"He'll be fine, Y/N. Going to take a while to recover from a broken wrist and some fractured fingers though so I doubt he'll be on the ice much"

You mull over his words for a bit before gathering up the courage to ask, "Is there any way I can visit him?" The tone in your voice almost makes you sound sheepish, as if this is taboo to ask, he IS your 'rival' after all.

He gives you a faint smile, "I'll talk to their coach to see if we can arrange anything yeah?" You smile back at that answer and nod your head.

Thanks to the coaches you're able to visit him at his apartment a few days later, though you're a bit self-conscious about it. Showing up at his apartment without him ever having told you the address might seem a bit weird.

But your worries melt away when you knock on the door and that white haired boy with all the piercings opens up. And when he notices it's you, he's smiling.

"Hey Y/N! Didn't expect you to visit me of all people", he laughs a bit.

You roll your eyes but nonetheless smile up at him, somehow he's gotten even taller over the years.

"How's the wrist doing? Heard it was a nasty surgery?" you asked him.

"Oh yeah blood and flesh everywhere" he's making exaggerated hand motions with his good hand causing you both to giggle. "Umm, anyway you wanna come in?" he offers looking at you expectantly.

"Yeah sure!" you didn't mean your face to light up when you accepted and you hope he didn't notice. He thinks it's cute you're happy to be around him.

He leads you to his bedroom, quickly introducing you to his roommate Darryl. He flops on the bed and hisses out as the motion was a tad too violent for his arm.

You hurry next to him on his bed, trying to make sure he's okay. "You good there?" you ask as you take his arm carefully.

He grimaces a bit at first but it soon turns into a playful smirk. "No it hurts so much Y/N!" he exclaims dramatically, "I think the only thing that could heal my wounds is a kiss" He looks at you as he says that, his smile never fading but now there's a slight anxiety in his eyes. You don't notice that and just roll your eyes. You decide to play along, "okay there big guy, but I don't think my kisses are magical enough to heal broken bones", and you kiss the cast around his wrist.

"There, feel better?" you laugh along with him. He seems to get a glint of confidence in his eye as he bites his lip hard around to draw a bit of blood.

"You think you could kiss this wound too?" as he point at his lower lip.

You're speechless for a moment and it's enough for him to backtrack. He starts rambling that you don't have to and it was a dumb idea, etc. Before he can go on, you lean in and give him a peck on the small puncture wound in his lip.

Now it's his turn to be stunned as you sit there equally flustered. A moment of silence before the two you start smiling like idiots in love, which frankly, you were.

"I think I need a bit more of those magic lips, love." He says and you silently agree as you lean in again, this time slower, for a proper kiss. Like two ice skaters in the rink, your lips graciously glide together to form an amazing symphony of fireworks in your head and heart. The both of you are still smiling in the kiss and you can still taste the bit of blood but neither of you mind it.

You're probably softly kissing each other for a few minutes before finally breaking away and taking the chance to get a proper breath.

You grin at him and say "I guess I'll be seeing you off the ice more often then right?"

He grins back "Oh absolutely"

[xxaraaq]

masterlist

wc | 3.03 k

A/N | damn I think got a little carried away from the the actual football player au but I hope y'all still enjoy

Kirishima x black reader

Standing at six five, two hundred forty pounds, Kirishima is a brick wall of a man. And even though he can make the opposing team’s defense look like child's play, he’s the nicest person most people will ever meet. And on top of being known on campus as one of his team's best players, he’s also known for being fine as hell.

He turns down at least four girls at every party he goes to, people would think that he’s a borderline saint. But what they don’t know is that when he leaves those parties, he goes straight to yours.

With your glasses and book always in hand, people think you're the stereotypical nerd; awkward, geeky, and weird. But honestly, you're the opposite. With your slick ass mouth and resting bitch face, you were the life of the party when your friends forced you out of your cave you called a dorm.

No one could have guessed that you and him would even be in the same circle, much less in each other's pants. And no one would expect the mr. sunshine would be the only one who could shut your shit down.

Truthfully, he has everyone fooled. For some reason, people thought that he was the epitome of kindness. But the way he was beating your shit in from the back, you coulda been fooled. 

You don’t even remember how this happened, one minute you were saying something about how he was acting like a ho at the party y’all went to, and the next thing you knew you were head down, ass up on the bed.

“What was that baby? I couldn’t hear you.” He said, gripping your hips as pounded into you. You didn’t even really understand what he was saying, to fucked out to concentrate on anything but the pleasure he’s bringing you.

“M- m’sorry, I didn’t m-mean it.” You whine, gripping the sheets. He hummed in return, and you knew that he wouldn’t take that as an answer.

“Nah babe, I don’t wanna hear that. Tell me how I was acting like a slut talkin to all those girls at the party.” He fucked into you with fervor, making the headboard slam against the wall.

“Why you f-fuckin me like this? It w-wasn’t that serious, I said m’sorry.” You slurred, eyes rolling to the back of your skull.

“Shhhhh, just take this dick like you wanted. That’s why you caught an attitude right?” He says, eyes glossing over.

He flipped you over to your back, pressing your knees to chest. “Best pussy I ever had, drivin me crazy.” He pushes himself back in, eliciting a high pitched moan from you.

Thrusting at a rough pace, he doesn’t let up. You pull him closer to you, kissing him with a kind of primal desire only he can evoke from you.

“Right there eiji, feels so good!” You mumble, sucking hickeys on his shoulders and neck. He groans, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he thrusts a final more times, spilling into you.

You both stay like that, taking in what happened as you hold onto each other. “What the fuck…” You whisper. You knew your man could fuck, but not like this.

“What’s wrong, did I hurt you?” He asks, pulling out with a hiss. “No. no it’s nothing. Forget about it ei.” You say, shifting under him to get more comfortable. “ Oh… ok. Goodnight, I love you.” He kisses your cheek, dozing off not a minute later.

Damn, you really gotta catch an attitude more often.

–

‘Damn Kirishima, the fuck y/n do to you last?’, was the first thing Eijirou heard after he stepped out of the shower. “What do you mean?” He asks, walking to a mirror. He hears the chuckle of his other teammates as he turns to see his back.

Shit.

He sees a plethora of raised,angry  red marks going all across his back. He didn’t even feel them the other night, to focus on the bliss you gave him as he sunk into your cunt again and again. He sighs and smirks as he puts his shirt, a faux blush on his cheeks.

He’s gotta to get you to do that again.

-Nene

[jamiesfootball]

❔

❔Choose a random WIP and talk about it.

So I've got this random wip that's been sitting in my drafts that is basically:

Roy and Jamie stick around after the gala talking to each other and having a surprisingly great time about it

'Give him an inch and he'll act like it's been three weeks' Jamie then shows up the next day assuming him and Roy are like. Best friends

'Takes 5 to 6 months to process things' Roy Kent is like fuck no. You're an awful person.

Jamie: *shocked pikachu face*

Roy: *does not want to feel bad about it* *does not want to feel bad about it* *the prick did it to himself* ........ *FEELS BAD*

Roy: be less of a dick and then we'll talk

Jamie: .......how much less of a dick?

Roy: what?

Jamie: like, 20% less?

Roy: No.

Jamie: 30%?

Roy: At least 90% less of a dick than your current levels of dickishness

Jamie: Can't go that high, I've got an image to protect. 75%

Roy: 80.

Jamie: Deal. FIFA at my place?

Roy: the fuck did I just agree to

What takes place after that is a slapstick level of antics as Jamie attempts (fails) (succeeds while failing?) to be exactly 80% nicer, which to him means that for every 4 '''nice''' things he does, he gets to cash in 1 free coupon to be a dick and Roy can't get mad at him for it. He's turned being nice into a points system.

"At least the good outweighs the bad?" Ted suggests when Roy tells him, which tells Roy that Ted isn't taking this seriously.

And the nice things he does? Somewhere between 'confused but he's got the spirit' and 'I guess that technically counts but I'm not happy with it.'

Nate - Compliments his hair every time he sees him. “Well I’m talking up, yeah? So his perceived value will seem higher than it actually is. Technically this should count as two since he's clearly insecure about it - I mean, why else would he keep dying it all the time. He isn't fooling anyone.”

[Isaac is now convinced Jamie is gay and in love with Nate. Colin is dying inside because when he tries to correct Isaac, Isaac acts like Colin is being homophobic. Jamie has no idea. Nate's self-esteem grows exponentially fast.]

Sam - Steps over him. Gets yelled at by Roy for not checking on his teammate. Points out Sam isn't actually hurt. Roy tells him it's still his job to back Sam up. Jamie backs Sam up by going at the guy who tackled him and gets yellow carded off the field.

This is not what Ted intended, but it's not...not the kind of behavior he wants from Jamie?

The entire team is just confused. Roy doesn't know how this became his problem.

Jamie is... confused for other reasons. Because he only did all this stuff, yeah, because there's this stupid bit inside him that he can't seem to shut up that's always been hurt that Roy Kent seems to hate him. And now Roy seems to (mostly) like (tolerate) him, and it's a little terrifying how fucking starved he is for that now. Not just from Roy either. Somewhere along the lines the other players on the team have warmed up to him too, and Ted looks pleased with him lately, and it all just way to much positive attention and validation for someone who's been starved for it for so long.

To his horror, the whole being nice thing is becoming a reflex. He hardly notices now when he tosses out a compliment that Nate's looking sharp today. He cashes in a point to tell Sam his passing was shit, then follows it up with a 'but you're looking faster out there' so he can start working up to the next point. Sam smiles at him like he never ever said the first part.

Sometimes Jamie catches himself being nicer and realizes he forgot to count it towards his points at all.

The more confused Jamie gets, the more concerned Roy finds himself about this whole weird situation. Frustratingly, he finds he actually likes Jamie. When he's not going out of his way to be a pain in the ass, Roy actually enjoys his company. Plus, now that he's tolerable to be around, Roy can stomach passing to him, and Richmond is starting to play well?

Then Jamie gets sent back to City : )

[omnifatal]

p5r does such a good job building dread with its dramatic irony and if i don’t talk about it i’m gonna explode (p5r spoilers below)

we the player see from a third person omniscient perspective that someone kills Okumura’s shadow after we steal his treasure.

but even before than that Sae asks us in the flash forward what we did to him, implying that something went wrong. so the whole lead up to this palace is tense because we know something is going to go very wrong. the whole thing feels weird, the motivations for going after this guy feel somewhat flimsier than the other ones. the story is that we think Okumura is connected to the mental shutdowns, but Morgana repeatedly says throughout the palace that we haven’t seen any evidence of that, and then someone else will say “oh maybe it’s further in”.

his connection to all this ends up being tangential, he knows a guy who does the dirty work for him but he himself is a pawn in the greater game being played and he gets killed off by that puppet master. but then you have the whole 20 days of Haru being worried (this is her first time doing this so it’s natural) and everyone going “nah it’ll be fine!”

and you the player KNOW he’s going to die. the SIU director literally looks into the camera and goes “haha yes i will kill this guy at an opportune moment”. so you look at the countdown clock and it’s basically “countdown to everything going to shit”. it’s so fucking good. i didn’t actually enjoy the mechanics of Okumura’s palace all that much (it was probably my least favorite boss fight so far) but the sheer tension of it all carries it

and then right after that all goes down, Sae tells you she was the last target. and she asks you if you changed her heart. shit man i dunno the fact you’re listening to me kinda sounds like maybe we did! but it’s ambiguous, would she even know?

we KNOW that the team gets caught in this palace. it’s literally the intro, you’re in a casino trying to run from the cops. the question is, did you steal her treasure first? is she moments away (in the present) from getting killed by the people puppeteering you both? and who is that?

the way the Phantom Thieves go from plucky underdogs and victims of circumstance, to thinking they hold all the cards, back to being desperate kids with their back against the wall is so engaging. i need to know what happens next. it surely won’t be good

also shadow Sae is so hot for no reason

edit: how could i forget the fact we SEE AKECHI SEE US GO INTO THE PALACE and have to sit with that until the school festival when he reveals he knows everything. the way he says “everyone’s here” and futaba even says something about it. i’m gonna be sick.

[danthropologie]

Honestly if they push Daniel out next year then I’m sorry the entire team has it coming they have it coming they only have themselves to blame. But like personally, is it weird of me to expect a team like RBR to not be making the entire decision at ONE meeting? Negotiations should be on so I’m guessing all players have already made submissions. I’m hoping daniel wins. Even despite it all he seems like the obvious choice for an obvious answer but who knows with this team

i assume these are both you? correct me if i'm wrong 😭

but as for your first message, that's exactly where i'm at too!! they chose to keep checo on at summer break and they deserve anything that happens to them after that point. same with this- if they choose to drop daniel, whether for checo or some fucking rookie or WHATEVER, they will deserve every single thing that comes to them and i will root every single day for max verstappen to leave and destroy them at some other team <3

but i DO think you're absolutely right that these decisions are not going start and end at one single meeting. clearly from everything everyone (other than maybe christian) has been saying, these talks are all ongoing and part of the talks that started way back before and during summer break. to think that one single race is going to make the entire decision feels.....silly, at best.

and the second message, ALSO COMPLETELY AGREE. that shit is WEIRD and gets weirder with every passing day. i truly do not have any sort of clarity on it at all and i feel like we won't have any clarity on it until, at best, the decisions are made and we can look back with hindsight 😭

[aravas-writing]

And now, the continuation no one asked for:

A funnyman's recap of Blue Archive

Prologue

It begins with the player character having a weird dream while on the train to Kivotos, which is ominous enough. Sensei awakens and steps off the train to meet with the person in charge

Her name is Rin, and she is a stand-in. The president of the General Student Council - the Big Cheese, basically - has gone missing and named Sensei, i.e. the player, as the person to summon in this case. Sensei is referred to with gender neutral pronouns, so can be either/or/neither, whatever floats your boat.

(Rin not pictured here BC she doesn't really become relevant to the overall story until way later.)

She functions as a proxy for the Prez while they're gone and brief Sensei on what's happening in the city and Great Googly Moogly, it's gone to shit in a heartbeat.

The seven most notorious criminals of the city had just been all apprehended as the Prez disappears so now they take the confusion as the chance to escape.

And one of them wants to fucking bomb the main tower.

For fun.

She is Kosaka Wakamo, Fox of Calamity (the reference to Tamamo-no-Mae jumps out immediately, no?)

Rin informs Sensei that it's up to them now and with the help of a nice tablet called

...

The..

The Shittim Chest.

Yes, I know. No, I don't think they workshopped it enough. Let's just call it the tablet.

Anyway, Rin also introduces four students, representatives of the Three Great Academies, who have come to aid Sensei and the GSC. They are, essentially, the starters.

Before it goes to battle, however, Sensei boots up the tablet using a passcode of ominous origin. It came to them in a dream (?).

And then an AI helper comes out!

Behold Arona! The AI of the tablet and adorable widdle babby who you can actually headpat. But that comes later.

And now, in cliffnotes, introducing the starters!

Hayase Yuuka

Treasurer at Millennium Academy

Can solve complex calculations in her head

Wields two Sig MPX, called "Logic & Reason"

Falls victim to a rumor about her actually weighing 100kg (someone manipulated her health check data)

Easily flustered when caught off-guard

Tries to be no-nonsense, fails at times

Develops a crush on Sensei with time

Hanekawa Hasumi

Dear god her artist is cooking the finest chili in the land

Vice president of the Justice Task Force at Trinity Academy (note the angel theme)

Uses a 1914 Enfield rifle named "Impalement"

Very conscious about her weight (GEE I WONDER WHERE ITS GOING)

Also has a sweet tooth

Constant sufferer of her own diets

Competent at her job

Effortlessly gorgeous

Hinomiya Chinatsu

Member of the Prefect Team at Gehenna Academy

Healer and good at it

Very adorable when flustered

Most transparent crush on Sensei after Yuuka

Wields a M712 Mauser pistol called "Support Pointer"

Feels constantly overworked, relishes rest

Morizuki Suzumi

Member of Vigilante Club at trinity

Literally just tagged along because she wanted to help

Gun: SIG MCX Virtus Patrol "Safety"

Stern, but kind

Bad at socialising

Has a really big stockpile of flash grenades.

Now you may see the guns and think "well damn, that is surprising" and/or "these girls are gonna die?"

Well.

Once they step out to meet the thugs that Wakamo rallied for max destruction, Yuuka gets shot in the head...and complains that hollow point bullets hurt like hell.

That's right, just about every inhabitant of Kivotos is bulletproof.

Except Sensei.

Fucked, innit?

Anywho, Sensei decides to use the tablet to give tactical support to the four girls at the front, who actually succeed in subduing Wakamo...

Except not really, she ran off into the tower to look what she can wreck with bombs.

She sees Sensei.

"Come here often?"

She excuses herself and bolts, which brings up several questions. All of which are answered in the Valentine's event.

And by me here and now: this girl fell in love at first sight and promises to be a good girl for a crumb of affection by the, apparently, only adult in Kivotos!

And that's how Sensei establishes themselves, as well as the club called Schale they helm from then on.

End prologue, welcome to Blue Archive, please leave your common sense at the door

[baddygab-bi]

Okay, episode thoughts:

First: glad they took the bachelor call from this episode so there was actually time for stuff. I see how it would’ve fit in, but I feel like all the stories this week were actually developed and we got that sneak for next time.

HenRen. I guessed the daughter thing. I’m happy they did this. Was it sorta weird to compare her to a dog? Yeah, but I get what the show was doing. I think the actress is a little cutie and from what we’ve seen and heard so far, she’s crushing it. Happy new addition to the 118 fam.

On the flip side. I believed the leaks, so I wasn’t shocked about the nun thing, but dear god it was even worse that I thought it would be.

I knew they building up a straight af Eddie, and it’s reached the point where I truly don’t think they’re going to walk it back. I know people are holding out hopes for a drunken buddie kiss at the bachelor party or a longing look at the wedding, but no. No. This episode was literally about not knowing who someone is, including yourself, and they used it to make sure people knew how much Eddie loves sex with his girlfriend, except when he can’t imagine her not as a nun (his dick was literally a factor in every single one of this scenes).

I love Buck and Tommy so much. Also I noticed that Lou had pierced ears and i love that for him. Anyway, I love their story rn and I really hope Tim decides to keep him around. Especially since Eddie and Marisol are end game, we need Buck with someone who’s good for him, and Tommy really seems like that person right now.

I didn’t love that neither Buck or Maddie had any clue about him being bi. I get Buck not realizing, but him saying he’s checked out a guy’s ass before as his only “gay thing” felt weird. Literally could’ve said he realized he might’ve had a crush on a high school friend, or got too into the football players on his team, or anything. Maddie could’ve had her little call backs to the time she joked about setting him and Josh up. I’m not saying they both had to know, but the fact that Buck was like “yeah, I had no clue” feels like they were purposely saying that for the audience or something. Like “I know, it came out of nowhere, but just roll with it.”

Bobby gives Eddie the worst advice. Or maybe the writers keep putting Eddie with the worst girls, who’s to say.

I saved a joke I made after seeing the leaks awhile ago: Here it is now, I want credit as the first person to make this joke a week ago:

“Marisol’s a nun? Wow, guess her only personality trait really is being a sister.”

Episode rating: 5/10. I loved HenRen, I loved Tevan. But the sexy catholic shit brought it down

[blubushie]

Wall anon here, get ready for another one though this one is pretty off topic? Idk brain works weird and made me think of this

(I'll try to format this time, throw a brick at me if it's unreadable please)

It's so wild to me seeing the differences in how the TF2 fandom sees the mercs vs how professional* TF2 players, whom I will call the player base, see the mercs (*3rd party competitive)

I think that we all know how much the fandom loves medic and puts demo aside. Though this seems to mostly be the fandom, from my personal experience with the player base, people love demo! Well love playing him.

It's a whole opposite of Tumblr and twitter and whatnot, nobody gives a shit about the story or any fan made stuff past sfms, the player base loves demo and soldier and if you made them play medic even for a second they would combust on the spot.

I've seen at least 10 "who do you main in TF2?" polls on here and the top 2 answers are always medic or pyro, I think that this is because Tumblr TF2 players lack skill but that's just a theory. I know that if I held a poll like this with people from the player base the top answers would be soldier, demoman or scout.

If I may go a bit off topic back to the theory that Tumblr users are bad at TF2, there are only 4 people from the player base that I know who have Tumblr accounts:

My boyfriend who has an inactive account and is considered very shit by everyone (myself included)

Friend of my boyfriend who barely has time to play and has an infamous record of dropping 7 ubers in 30 minutes

A guy who as far as I know has been stuck in the lowest division for over a year (not a good look)

And myself (I'm procrastinating so much on actually playing the game and getting better ffs)

Back on topic, I feel that playing the game with actually good players would change a lot of Tumblr's boring ass headcannons.

I, a medic main myself, used to hate scouts with a passion but after a month of playing with actually good scouts my whole view on scout has changed, I love scouts!! They're my friends!!

After playing competitively my view on a lot of classes has changed, actually. I have mad respect for demos and soldiers because of the high skill that those classes require, from good aim to good game sense and also rocket/sticky jumping and much much more that I won't bore you with.

They're very skilled players playing those classes, it makes ya think about the mercs they're playing a little differently, especially if you're on a new team and don't know each other's names so you call everyone by their class (the amount of times I've been called med or medic instead of my name is uncountable)

I feel like a lot of my headcannons are influenced by the people I play with and our experiences together

And I think that's neat

This has been wall anon, signing off with another fucking wall of text and most likely exposing who I truly am behind the anon mask, whoops?

Oh yeah and reminder to throw a brick at me if this is hard to read lol

God this is so fucking true. Also just generally people only engaging with fandom and not even refreshing on the source material. Spend a few hours mulling over all the comics and videos and voicelines and watching gameplay videos to get an idea of these characters or don't talk to me LMAO

[joe9cool]

So Good-Joel Farabee-1

A.N. I do not know or affiliate with anyone with The Flyers their families, and their friends. I only own my characters. This is for fanfiction and doesn't represent reality.Also you do not have permission to steal or post my stories elsewhere. Thank you

August 2022

“Aye Beezer!” Frosty shouted from over the music, waving his buddy over. Joel smiled as he made his way through the backyard of Sean Couturier's home. It was a small team barbecue before kicking off the new season. Despite his back injury, the alternative captain insisted he and his wife Laurence could host the annual team party. It felt weird without Claude and Ryanne hosting as the former Flyers captain was now in Ottawa. Sean had decided to step up since he was now Philly's longest lasting player, and there was no doubt that When the team was ready for a new Captain, he would be the obvious choice.

Joel has spent his off season in Philly following his neck surgery. It was a painful recovery so far, but he felt good. Good enough to attend the barbecue. 

After greeting Sean and Laurence, and dropping off his bottle of wine (His mom taught him to never come to someone’s house empty handed) He went over to the young core. “Let’s see the scar bro!” Joel laughed. “The Doc did a good job, so I don’t think you're gonna see anything exciting.”

“Are you attending camp?” He shrugged, obviously players didn’t like to miss any time, but he certainly was not going to rush anything and possibly hinder his progress.  “Hopefully, I feel good.”

When Owen offered him a beer Joel shook his head. “I'm on pills man. I can't.”

The redhead laughed. “Look at you being a responsible veteran.”

“It's only because of his surgery.” Joel rolled his eyes. “Yeah it had nothing to do with you being my roommate and having to take care of your ass Frosty.”

After some more mingling and shit talking with his team. Laurence announced that the food was ready. Joel had gotten Into a line that led to the kitchen. He had someone gotten behind someone he hadn't seen before. 

‘Was she a crasher?’ Joel thought as he was staring at the back of a woman, Whose long black hair was tied into a high ponytail. To some it may be a dumb thought, but to an athlete Who has seen Some crazy things… Anything was possible. 

Surely if she was a crasher, someone would have said something… surely. He looked around before taking In more features of the woman.

She was about his height in her wedge sandals, she was wearing a blue floral dress that showed off her curvy figure and he tried not to focus on her ass. 

However, his thoughts were now focused on the food as he entered the kitchen to see everything Laid Out on the massive island and counters. As with any get together that involved hockey players, there was a ton of food with all dietary restrictions in Mind. Right now guys were having their last minute cheat meals before camp.

As he was loading up his plate he had a better view of the woman who was now next to him in his peripherals. She was beautiful, definitely around his age and very polite as she kept handing him the serving spoon after every dish.

Well, almost every dish.

“Wait a Minute. No chicken parm? That's insane.” It slipped Out of Joel’s mouth before he could stop it. She looked up and her brown eyes caught him by surprise.

“Oh my god you seriously are like the millionth person giving me shit for this.”

His eyebrows raised, not expecting that response. “It's chicken parm!”

“I know! It was my pregame meal for years.” He was sure his eyebrows were off his face at this point. “Really?”

She laughed “yeah I played hockey in college and high school.”

“So are you on the management team for the Flyers?” 

She shook her head. “No, I'm a teacher's assistant at Temple University.”

“Sooo how do you know the team?”

“I'm so sorry Claire, But can you take Ella? She woke from her nap and I can't get her to settle. I'll fix your plate.” Laurence had Suddenly appeared with her toddler who was already reaching out at What he now knew as Claire.

“Of course! Ella, come here my girl.” Smiling, they traded a human and a plate as it seemed Claire was a natural with the toddler. Joel found himself staring at her as she walked away bouncing Ella. He didn't even realize he was holding up the line until Laurence began speaking with him. “Isn't Claire so nice?” 

He snapped out of the Trance he was in. “What?”

Laurence smiled down at Claire’s Plate. “My friend Claire, she is just the sweetest. You know she played ice hockey for Princeton?”

“Princeton?” He whistled. She was fucking smart. “I thought she worked for The Flyers. I wasn't sure how she knew the team.

“When Sean lived With Briere his Rookie season, she and her family were neighbors to them. When I visited Sean, Danny introduced us, and she's from Montreal and so we became close. She was my only friend when I lived in Philly, and she took care of me when Sean was in the bubble and it was only me and Ella. We made her godmother.”

Joel nodded, “she's very pretty.” He muttered but Laurence heard. “Yes, and just so kind.” They grabbed drinks and Joel found a spot outside and took a seat, not realizing Laurence was following.

“Claire! I put your stuff next to Joel.” He looked up and saw Claire in the corner playing with the now happy kid. “Okay thank you.” 

“Here let me take her. She can go by Sean. Go eat, you've helped me so much with all of The food And prep.” 

Claire Sat down next to Joel and dug into her plate. Joel made another comment before thinking…. “Wow, you're hungry.” She looked at him surprised. “Umm I'm sorry I Didn't mean it like that.. I just.. I remembered You played hockey and it's nice to not watch my eating around someone.”

Nice save moron.

She laughed. “I've always Been a fast eater.. Trust me you're fine.. but back to the chicken parm. I ate that shit every game for how many years… I can't do it.”

“Hmm… well Laurence told me you went to Princeton. That's an IVY league school. What did you major in?”

She took a sip of her wine cooler. “Clinical psychology. I'm actually graduating with my Masters in December. Then straight to the PhD. I'm trying to become a professor. I work as a TA at Temple University and I love it.

Across the yard, Laurence was watching them, smiling.

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

As the day flowed Into the night Joel found himself refusing to leave Claire's side, even as his teammates where hanging outside playing a game or Playing with Coots dog he was in the house, helping Claire help Laurence clean up. She laughed at all of his jokes and was able to throw some chirps At him. Turns out she had been a regular at Games and team events..

Why hadn't he noticed her before?

Well when he had come onto the team it was right before Covid, but even after she was right in front of him. This beautiful, smart woman who he enjoyed talking to.

She was four years older than him, but that didn't matter. She told him about being born in Canada and a bit about moving to Philly as a kid and the change. He told her about growing up in Cicero New York. They exchanged Hockey stories as they Grabbed desserts. The natural next step was To ask her out. He figured That would come at the end of the night.

“So your sister is a lawyer?” She nodded. “Yes, she's a year older than me. She and her husband eloped a few months ago. Imagine the total shock On my mother's Face.” 

He laughed. “Yeah I'm the baby of three Boys and if one of us did that. I don't think my parents would forgive me.” 

They were now back on the patio chairs, overlooking the backyard. It had become cooler out, so they were by a fire. However he noticed Claire was still shivering in her summer dress. “Here, take my sweater.” He unzipped his Grey hoodie and slipped it over her shoulders, his fingers feeling electrocuted by her bare skin. He didn't miss her shudder. “Thank you” She smiled.

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

“Aww you stupid fucker!” Owen groaned as his opponent knocked His bean bag off the board.

Frosty laughed. “That's what you get for earlier asshole.” Owen Looked over to Sean who was coming back with a bucket of beers for The guys. “kick Frost out right now.”

“It's about time he's doing good. We are destroying him and Laughts..”

“If I had Beezer, we'd be whooping your ass right now.” Morgan cracked open His beer. Instead I'm stuck with this clown” he gestured to Laughton, who took offense. “Hey man fuck you.”

“Where the hell is Beez anyway?” Morgan rolled his eyes. “Rizzing up Coots babysitter, Cindy.”

Sean rolled his eyes as he drank his beer. “Her name is Claire and she isn't our babysitter. She's a good friend.”

“Whatever. I saw them and Laurence talking earlier, but since then he wouldn't leave her side. If they leave together I have to put my headphones in.” 

The kid missed Scott and Sean sharing a look. “Are we doing another round?”

Scott emptied his glass. “Yeah let me get another drink, as he passed Sean to go to the bucket he spoke softly. “Does he know about Luke?”

Sean looked over at Joel and Claire by the fire laughing at something he was showing her on his phone. “I would think it would have come up. But I don't think Beez would be this interested if he knew.”

“aren't they engaged?” Scott asked, referring to Luke and Claire. Sean shook his head. “No. I know Claire wants to be after she gets her Masters. But Luke has been dragging his feet. It's been what, almost six years? They have a house together, and stable careers. But who knows.”

They were both looking in the direction of their teammate. “Well the kid looks infatuated and he's gonna get the carpet ripped up from under him if Luke shows up.”

“That's if he shows up. You know he's not comfortable being around us.”

“I don't know what she sees in Luke.” 

“no one does.”

“HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE TO GRAB A FUCKING BEER?”

“I'm coming damn!”

------------------------------------------------------------

“I need to go to more Phillies games.” Claire smiled as she was packing up leftovers In the kitchen. The party had died down, except a Few stragglers. Joel had never been more grateful Morgan insisted on driving separately.

This was his chance to ask her out

“Hey listen I love to”

“Claire Luke is by the door waiting for you, And he doesn't want to come in.” Chloe rolled her eyes. Claire Sighed while Joel was confused.

“Luke?”

Suddenly a man's voice was heard. “Claire, it's late and I have to work tomorrow. Let's go.”

“It's my boyfriend. I have to go. It was nice to actually speak with you Joel. I'll see you at the games this year.” She smiled and grabbed her bags before saying goodbye to whoever else was there.

Joel felt like he had just had his heart ripped out. He felt embarrassed and stupid. Here he was, thinking he found potentially a new friend or someone to date, and she had been playing him the entire time.

Well maybe not.. it probably wasn't serious.

“Hey Chloe.” He called Scott's wife. He walked over so the few people couldn't hear the conversation. “Luke is Claire's boyfriend?”

She nodded. “They aren't serious or anything?” He was holding his breath.

Chloe looked confused. “They've been together forever. They have a house and a dog. They are probably gonna get engaged soon.”

Now Joel felt like throwing up. “I gotta go.” as he rushed out of the door he called out to the Couturier's snarkily. “Thanks for the party and setting me up Laurence!” 

He didn't even hear Sean's reply as he stormed out to his car and sped off.

He took the long way back to his condo in the city, hoping that Morgan would be passed out by the time he got in.

No such luck as he opened the door and saw his roommate in the kitchen eating his leftovers. “Damn dude, Did you fuck Claire in the car or something?”

Joel wanted to whip his keys at Morgan's head. “Fuck off.” He muttered.

“Woah. Did She turn you down?”

“Worse, she has a fucking Boyfriend. A serious one, they live together and are probably gonna get married. Type shit.”

Morgan whistled. “Damn dude. She didn't mention anything? She must not have been thinking about him if she didn't once bring up anything. I mean hey, you still could have hit.”

Joel was quiet and Morgan's Jaw dropped. “Fuck dude. You actually liked her.”

“I was gonna ask her out. But it's whatever. It probably wouldn't have gone anywhere” He put his items in the fridge. “I mean she's older than me. Even if she was single… she'd be looking for marriage and shit… I'm 22. That's a long way off for me.”

Morgan nodded, knowing Joel was trying to convince himself. “I'm going to bed.”

As he laid in bed that night he couldn't stop thinking about her. 

A.N. Hey guys! New story! This is loosely based off of the song 'So Good' by Halsey. Hope you like it and don't be afraid to ask questions about the characters. I will have a Claire and Joel Canon tag.

[watsername]

like as a full sapnap fan and someone who enjoys the competitive minecraft thing i don’t think sapnap will stick around in mcc for much longer .

like wether u like him or not he’s one of the best participants in the event and that in itself will cause a lot of people to dislike him - think things along the lines of ‘oh he just wins every event it’s not fair when is he getting benched he always wins’ type things . it also makes people perceive him as a difficult player because he tends to take command of his team and because of his already negative reputation words like ‘dictating’ and ‘bossy’ and ‘aggressive’ get thrown into the mix by fans- i don’t think i’ve ever seen this kind of sentiment shared by creators themselves, in fact most tend to say they’re happy to follow sapnap’s lead in pvp centred games.

another thing is sapnap’s motivation . the coin regali for pvp games has made them more about survivability and less about the actual pvp element so the things that sapnap does actually excel in have been sort of sidelined and this seems like it’s to make things easier for other players who aren’t good at pvp but i mean i think it’s stupid bc no other game has been fucking baby proofed for ppl who are bad at it . tell ur cc to get in the practise server instead of yelling at ppl that the games aren’t fair .

anyway . having his actual skills minimised and then having quite a few wins means that when he does win, nobjdy gives a shit . look at the last event- gumi and ponk scored their first wins in the event and only scott and sylvee acruallt joined call to congratulate them because they don’t like sapnap and punz . to the point where gumi had to say on twitter that she genuinely it felt that people didn’t like that her team won but she was still proud of herself for it . people dislike sapnap’s teams so much that they’re not willing to join the call to congratulate the players and fans online purposefully leave him out of their congratulatory posts .

if i was sapnap i’d feel like shit playing in the event . a talented person not valued by the community for his skills or appreciated for his successes id be demoralised too . and he said that . he said nobody likes him and he’s thinking of retiring and it’s so sad that sapnap genuinely has a good time with people who aren’t so weird about him even just neutral about him but still can’t feel good in what he does because nobody wants him to win nobody cares when he does and fans of the event go out of their way to tell him they don’t want him in the event altogether . it’s sad . he obviously enjoys competitive minecraft . i don’t think that he’s gonna put up w ppl ignoring the value of his success much longer bc i sure as hell wouldn’t