#other than women on the team they don't like can't have nice things

[amaltheas-garden]

Baela rode Moondancer once in the dance, Rhaena never had a dragon till after the dance was over, and Rhaenyra never rode Syrax except when she arrived at Kings Landing, yet Baela has had multiple Moondancer scenes (as she should), Rhaena has been given Nettles' plot AND dragon, and Rhaenyra has had plenty of shots with Syrax and is now (allegedly) going to be teaching dragon riding 101 to the dragonseeds and will likely take part in at least one dragon battle.

But Helaena and her beloved Dreamfyre? nah. Her bond to a dragon just isn't important enough 😒

[sceletaflores]

where there’s sparks, there’s fire!

pairing: patrick zweig x fem!reader

summary: you can’t tell if patrick hates you as much as you hate him. every time you see him he’s constantly talking to you, touching you, trailing behind you. but he’s only doing all that to piss you off. you think back to tashi telling you it’s obvious that he wants to fuck you. you don’t see it. patrick wants to fuck everyone, you’re not special.

—or: patrick zweig is a slut. you can't stand him.

word count: 4.6k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y’all!), public sex (doing it in a coat closet lmao), more hate sex, swearing, fighting as foreplay, light choking, light hair pulling, degradation, even more hints of mean!reader cause i really do live for that shit, tashi and reader are cute besties always, porn with a little plot, no use of y/n.

author’s note: i originally wanted to post a tashi fic next but i realized i don't have any like actual full on plot filled patrick works lmao i felt bad neglecting him and my patrick girlies so yeah. once again had literally so much fun writing this, like i hardcore love this niche!!! i ride so hard for it!!! the tashi fic i'm working on also falls into this category lols and yes this is fourth of july themed and it's late shut up i cannot write fast for the life of me...anyway! to the anons who requested something like this, hope you love it! okay bye mwah xoxo.

Patrick Zweig is a huge slut.

Everyone knows that. He doesn't even go to Stanford but he's still somehow managed to sleep with a third of the girls on campus, maybe even more than a few guys too if the rumors going around are true.

You hate him. Hate isn't even a strong enough word. You loathe him. You despise him. You detest him. Pick any other fancy synonym, the point still stands. You just really fucking hate him.

It blows your mind that someone as sweet and angelic as Art would be best friends with someone like him. Someone who's so obnoxious, so arrogant, so crass. Art’s the guy that goes out of his way to protect you from the gross frat bros at parties, only to bring his very own as a plus one.

Sigma Nu throws a rager every year on the fourth, extending invites to those who are still in Stanford for the summer. The women’s tennis team is always invited, and Tashi always ends up convincing you to go. Well, she’s less convincing than she is more forcing you, but it’s basically the same thing to her anyway. She did your makeup and wrestled you into a Hollister dress, vowing to get you laid as she straightened your hair.

Tashi’s almost more invested in your sex life than you are, constantly hand-picking guys on campus for your consideration. She actually offered up Patrick once when you told her you wouldn’t fuck any of the guys on campus at all. The two of you were practicing, she suggested it as casual as ever while returning your serve. You were so shocked you stopped in your tracks, letting the ball fly right past you. She assured you she wouldn’t mind if you did, that what the two of them had was quote “Nothing serious, he’s just a really good fuck.” and that you should “Totally do it. He definitely wants to fuck you, I can tell.” 

You just brushed her off, ignored the way she smirked knowingly at you over the net. Your cheeks burned as you served again, you wrote it off as annoyance. As if you would ever let Patrick Zweig fuck you.

You lost Tashi when she took off to the bathroom, texting you that she’d be a while thanks to a long line outside the door. You were leaning against a wall nursing a half-empty cup of jungle juice when he came up to you. You can’t remember his name, you think it starts with a B. Something like Brandon? Or maybe Brian? One or the other.

He’s Sigma Nu’s secretary, you sit three seats down from him in your economics lecture. Tashi says he has a crush on you, and he’s nice for a frat guy but he’s definitely not your type. He’s been droning on about his upcoming trip to his family's summer house in Cabo for almost ten minutes. You try your best to seem interested, humming and nodding every couple seconds. You’re in the middle of tuning him out when a loud, familiar voice calls out your name. 

“There you are!” Patrick Zweig shouts from a few feet away, ugly American flag patterned flip flops smacking against the ground as he makes his way over to you. He’s wearing a bright red button down and white cargo shorts you scrunch your nose up at. He’s tanner than the last time you saw him, legs long and even more toned. “I’ve been looking everywhere for that pretty face.” He coos sweetly, his hand that isn't holding a bottle of Bud Light comes up to pinch your cheek.

You scoff, smacking his hand off your face. “You found me, so you can go bother someone else now,” you say, rubbing your cheek lightly. “Bye.” You press, waving your hand dismissively when he makes no move to walk away.

Patrick grins, unfazed by your reaction, he steps in even closer. “Yeah, I missed you too,” he says breezily, his breath smells like cheap beer and camel blues. He’s just as tall as you remember. He has tacky blue shutter shades resting on the top of his head. His eyes rake over your body shamelessly, lingering on the low dip of your neckline. “Cute dress.” 

You ignore him, rolling your eyes before turning your attention back towards Brandon/Brian. He’s silent now, eyes flicking between you and Patrick skeptically. “Are you like, together, or something?” 

You laugh loudly, quickly shaking your head ‘No’. Patrick beats you to speaking though, “God no, man.” he says through a laugh, dark curls bouncing as he shakes his head. “I came over here to warn you.” He continues, voice and expression going overly serious like he’s not talking out of his ass.

Brandon/Brian’s brows furrow, clearly confused. “Warn me?” he asks, head tilting to the left slightly. His puka shell necklace makes a small clicking sound as he moves. 

Patrick nods his head gravely, clapping his free hand down on Brandon/Brian's shoulder a little too roughly to be considered friendly, shaking him back and forth like a rag doll. “Yeah, best of luck trying to get inside that snatch, man.” he says earnestly, jerking his head in your direction. “Cause’ she’s really fucking picky–”

You whip your head in his direction to cut him off, grimacing in disgust. “You would say snatch, you sick fuck.” you snap, red solo cup crunching quietly in your hand. Patrick just laughs, dropping his hand from Brandon/Brian’s shoulder. Anger stews inside you the longer he looks at you with that stupid shit-eating smirk on his face. 

You can’t tell if Patrick hates you as much as you hate him. Every time you see him he’s constantly talking to you, touching you, trailing behind you. But he’s only doing all that to piss you off. You think back to Tashi telling you it’s obvious that he wants to fuck you. You don’t see it.

Patrick wants to fuck everyone, you’re not special. Sure, he may feel the constant need to be a horn-dog when he’s around you. That doesn’t mean anything. Patrick’s just gross, constantly making crude comments or lame innuendos. What Tashi fails to see is him making sex jokes around you is just another way he can piss you off. It’s not an open invitation into those god-awful shorts. 

Patrick takes a small step back, big hands raising in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Put the claws away,” You try to ignore the way him saying your name in that goddamn infuriating condescending tone makes your cheeks start heating up. Patrick leans his shoulder on the wall next to you, looking down at you with a small grin on his face. “I actually wanted to congratulate you on cracking the top twenty.” He takes a long sip of his beer, head lolling to the side lazily as he swallows. “Lucky number 14.”

You’re not too proud to admit that Patrick is kind of hot, especially in this lighting. He’s objectively a hot guy, and he knows it. All tall and firm looking even in his horrendous outfit. But he’s kind of cute too, in an ass-holey way. His hair's a mess of soft-looking black curls and his ears stick out from his head sort of endearingly. He’s close enough that you can see he’s got a little brown in his eyes, and long lashes. There’s a handful of freckles sprinkled over the bridge of his nose. 

His big, strong nose that looks like it could work wonders between your legs. Or at least that’s what you’ve heard from Jen in your chem lab. Maybe this jungle juice is stronger than you thought.

Patrick's smirk widens, wolfish and dirty like he can see what you’re thinking. “That’s pretty impressive.” he continues, his tone a mix of genuine admiration and teasing. "Especially for someone who's always so...busy." He lets the last word hang in the air, a clear innuendo that makes your blood boil all over again.

"Busy training," you snap back, not willing to let him get under your skin any more than he already has. "Some of us have actual work ethic, Patrick. We put in the hours on the court instead of fucking anything that breathes, you know? So we don’t look like idiots that get their ass handed to them on tour by nobody scrubs."

You can feel the heat start to simmer in your stomach, anger and frustration bubbling beneath the surface as Patrick's presence continues to grate on your nerves. The tension between you is thick, amplified by the chaotic energy of the party swirling around you. You see Brandon/Brian take a long, awkward sip of his beer as he steps away, turning on his heel to quickly disappear into the sea of bodies crowding the living room. You roll your eyes internally, pussy.

Patrick grins, not deterred in the slightest. “You’ve been keeping up with my matches?” His voice is low and pleased sounding, shiny green eyes slowly getting swallowed by the black of his pupils. 

You pause, owlishly blinking up at him in silence. You’ve been caught. Shit.

You can feel the immediate warmth of embarrassment burning hot on your cheeks as you cast your gaze to the floor. “Only when I need to cheer myself up, a losing streak that high is actually laughable.” You mutter to the floor, lightly swirling your drink in your cup. 

Patrick laughs loudly, throwing his head back in amusement. “Still thinking about me though.” he says matter-of-factly, a lazy grin taking over his face.

His audacity sends another wave of anger and embarrassment through you, your grip tightens around your cup. "Only because you make such a spectacle of yourself," you retort sharply. "It's hard not to notice when you're crashing and burning so publicly."

Patrick's grin doesn't falter. If anything, it widens. "I'll take what I can get from you," he says, his tone a blend of amusement and something else that you can't place. "But seriously, congratulations. You deserve it."

His unexpected sincerity throws you off, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. It's rare to see Patrick in a light that isn’t coated in sarcasm or sleaze. You catch a glimpse of something genuine in his expression, something that almost resembles respect, and it confuses you.

It confuses you, and it makes something warm start to burn in your stomach. You can’t afford to feel any warm, fuzzy feelings around a guy like Patrick, not if you don’t want to get majorly fucked over the second he gets bored of you. 

You don’t know how to react so you do what makes sense, you lash out.

“God, will you just fuck off and leave me alone Patrick,” you say, tone over-dramatic and long-suffering as you tip your head up to the ceiling in annoyance. “I’m trying to have fun.” A lie. The party kind of sucked compared to last years. You were planning on talking Tashi into leaving when she came back, but he didn’t need to know that.

Patrick’s cool exterior finally cracks, letting out a quiet huff of disbelief as a frown starts tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Jesus Christ, what the hell is your fucking problem? I’m being sincere.” The playful light in his eyes is gone, replaced by something darker.

You let out a loud laugh, shaking your head in amusement. “Maybe I’d believe that if you weren’t such an ass. I know you too well, Patrick.” You say, tone mean and condescending. You know he’s right, on some level, but that doesn’t stop you. 

Patrick is silent for a beat, eyes boring into yours with an intensity that makes you want to start squirming. He lets out a quiet, bitter laugh, bringing his beer up to his lips to take a long sip. You watch the way his throat moves as he swallows, the way his lips look wrapped around the neck of the bottle. You feel a familiar heat start to pool between your legs, thighs clenching involuntarily as your mind envisions something else his slick, pink lips would look good wrapped around. 

He drops the bottle to his side, finally breaking the silence. “You know, now I do believe you.” he says casually, swiping his tongue over his lips lazily. “You must really not be getting any dick acting like this much of an uptight bitch.”

You reel back in shock, his words hitting you like a punch in the gut. The wave of fury that sweeps through you is almost tangible, your vision narrowing to a tunnel that begins and ends with Patrick’s infuriatingly smug face. “What did you just say?” you ask completely taken aback, voice low and rough. Your hand twitches at your side with the need to throw your drink in his face, anger and embarrassment lapping white hot flames in your stomach. 

Patrick just scoffs, heated gaze not breaking from your own. “You heard me.” He says, jaw set stubbornly. “You need like, emergency dick, or something to chill the fuck out for once.” 

You feel your heart rate spike, your free hand clenching into a tight wrist by your side. “You’re a fucking pig.” your voice shakes with anger, you feel sweaty and hot all over. The heat swirling between your legs is persistent.

Patrick laughs, a loud and infuriating sound. “Come on, we both know you’re fucking begging for someone to give you what you need.” He says like it’s obvious, you clench your fist a little tighter. He takes a step closer, voice dropping down to a whisper meant just for you. “I can help you with that. I can fuck all that bratty shit right out of yo–”

You’re reacting before you can stop yourself, hand flying up to slap him hard across the face. The loud crack pierces through the room, loud enough that a few eyes turn in your direction. Patrick's head snaps to the side, the shades resting on the top of his head fly off. 

Your heart stops, hands shaking with the realization of what you just did. You expect Patrick to flip out, start shouting and threatening to sue you or whatever else it is that rich people do. Time seems to slow down as he turns his head, and when he looks back at you, there's no trace of anger in his eyes. Instead, they're dark with something else entirely— something that makes your stomach flip.

He licks his lips, a slow, deliberate motion, and then he laughs, a low, throaty sound that sends shivers down your spine. A clear hand print grows steadily, red and angry on his cheek. "Fuck." he breathes, his hazy eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat. 

You’re stuck staring at each other for what feels like hours, the music and chatter from the party reduced down to a low hum as you’re caught under Patrick’s heavy gaze.

He drops his beer bottle on the floor carelessly, hand shooting out to grab your wrist tightly and drag you away from the living room. Your cup falls from your grip, splashing down onto the hardwood in a red sticky mess. You fall into step behind him, letting him guide you into the hallway outside the living room before he lurches to a stop in front of a closed door, ripping it open and shoving you inside. Patrick follows quickly, closing the door behind him and bathing the coat closet in darkness. 

It’s a tiny closet, you’re pressed up against too many coats fighting for space on the tiny rack, kicking loose shoes around as you try to find your footing. “Patrick, I–” You start, but you're cut off by a strong hand gripping your forearm and whipping you around. Your back hits the door with a dull thud, you don’t have any time to react before his lips are on yours.

The kiss is the opposite of gentle, Patrick’s lips are almost violent as they move with yours. Your hands tangle in his soft hair, kissing back just as roughly. He hisses into your mouth as you twist the strands in your grip meanly, pressing you into the door harder. His tongue forces its way past your parted lips, claiming your mouth fiercely. He tastes like beer, his fingertips are rough and calloused on your skin, pulling you closer as if he wants to meld into you.

“If you don’t want this, say the word and I’ll stop right now.” He says against your lips, breathless and rumbly. His hands squeeze your hips reassuringly, his own version of sincerity softening the moment.

Yeah fucking right.

“Zweig,” you say slowly, yanking his hair roughly. “If you don’t shut up and fuck me in the next ten seconds, I’ll kill you.”

Patrick grins wildly, surging forward to connect your lips again. Your hands find the buttons of his shirt as the two of you kiss, working them open one by one until you get too frustrated and rip the two half-open sides apart. Buttons clatter onto the floor of the closet, Patrick groans into your mouth, breaking the kiss with a huff. “I liked that shirt, dick. You owe me twenty bucks.”

You’re not listening, eyes trained on the bare skin of his chest as everything seems to slow down for a second. Of course, you’ve seen Patrick shirtless before, when he’s on the court and it’s above ninety or when he’s taking up space in Art’s dorm. This feels different, a completely new situation where it’s actually okay for you to stare at the expanse of his torso. 

You can’t help reaching out to touch him again— running your greedy hands down his chest, his abs, the sharp ‘v’ cut of his hips that makes its way into the waistband of his shorts. Your manicured nails scratch through the dark hair of his happy trail, you can see the muscles in his stomach jump.

“Fuck,” you whisper breathlessly and immediately regret it. He was already insufferable— all you fucking needed was for him to know how you felt right now. How the sight of his barely undressed body is making your pussy soak through your panties.

Patrick doesn’t even gloat, just uses his tight grip on your hips to flip you so you’re pressing onto the door harshly. He impatiently yanks the skirt of your dress up, wasting no time in hooking a finger on the lace of your panties and moving the fabric to the side for easier access.

You hear him pop the button of his shorts open, his zipper following close behind. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.” He says, sliding the thick tip of his cock through your slick lips, brushing himself against your entrance teasingly. “I’m gonna make you think twice about bitching me out ever again.” He seals his promise by grabbing your hair and yanking, causing a surprised whine to fall from your lips. His voice is so patronizing, but you aren’t getting mad like you should be. You’re just getting wetter, getting desperate with the need for him to get inside you right fucking now.

You grit your teeth in frustration, exhaling sharply through your nose. “I hate you.” You hiss, grinding back against his hard cock. You gasp raggedly as he starts to sink himself inside you, not stopping until his hips are flush against your ass. “Shit!” Your hands grip the door so hard you’re scared one of your nails will break. The stretch of him burns in the best way possible. You’d never say it out loud, not wanting to inflate his ego anymore than you probably already have, but he’s definitely the biggest cock you’ve taken. Almost porn-star big.

“I know.” He replies easily, hiking your thigh up with his hand as his hips start to pound mercilessly into the meat of your ass, not even giving you time to get used to the thick stretch of him. The loud smack of skin on skin fills the tiny closet easily, you hope to God the amount of clothes shoved in here somehow muffles the sound. The rough denim of his shorts scratches against your raw skin, adding to the sting of his hips.

Patrick was pounding into you in a way that makes you feel every inch of him. His cock felt impossibly big, filling you up like he was carving a place for himself inside of you. The sting in your pussy at the stretch of him is mind-numbing, you think you’d collapse from how hard your thighs were shaking if he wasn’t practically holding you up.

His big hand grips the sensitive skin of your inner thigh hard enough that it’ll probably be bruised by tomorrow. You distantly hope he’s high up enough that your tennis skirt will cover it, because if not it’ll be a hard thing to talk your way out of.

You throw your head back, a strained moan erupting from your lips. Your nails scratch at the paint on the door's edges, raking small lines down the wall. The loud squelch of your pussy’s overflowing wetness every time he sinks back inside you would be embarrassing if you had the mental capacity to care.

“Fuck yeah, keep making those slutty sounds, baby. Want the whole fucking party to hear how good I’m making you feel on this cock,” he mutters, hiking your leg up higher so he can pound into you deeper.

He drops your thigh, sliding his hand up your body and around your throat. You whine loudly, pushing back into his thrusts harder. Guys have tried the choking thing in the past, but Patrick’s hand is the only one that’s felt right. His long fingers curling around your throat like they belong there.

“Shit, fuck- don’t stop.” you mewl, lips parted in ecstasy. His hand squeezes a little tighter, not enough to cut off your breathing, just enough to get your eyes rolling back into your head as your pussy weeps around the thick length of his cock.

“That’s it, taking my fucking cock like you were made for it,” Patrick grates through a groan, gripping your hips and pulling out from your tight hole to spit on where his cock bumps up against your entrance before plunging back in.  You jolt at the extra wetness, whining at how dirty it is. “So fucking tight— does it hurt, baby?” he asks in a barely breathless voice, laughter edging his tone. “Is my fat cock hurting your tight little pussy?”

“God– shit, yes!” you sob loudly, cheek rubbing against the wood of the door as you nod your head frantically. “Hurts so fucking good.” You stop caring about inflating his ego, letting moans fall freely from your lips as you get closer to the edge.

“Fuck yeah, I’m gonna come,” he grunts, his rhythm growing sloppy and erratic as his muscles tense. He wraps your hair in his other hand, pulling hard enough to make your neck crane back awkwardly. He leans forward, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “I can feel you, fucking clenching up on me so tight,” he whispers, still pounding into you roughly. “I know you’re close. Do it. Come all over my cock like a slut.”

Patrick's hand tightens around your throat as he talks, cutting off your air for just a second. “Patrick!” Your voice sounds weak and strained, your hand coming up to wrap around his wrist desperately.

He pulls out abruptly, dropping your hair from his fist to frantically jerk his cock, burying his face in your neck. You can hear the lewd shlick shlick shlick of your wetness help his hand glide over the skin of his cock quickly. Patrick lets out a loud growl before you feel the sharp bite of his teeth sinking in where your shoulder meets your neck, muffling a loud groan of your name as he sprays hot come over the skin of your lower back and the swell of your ass. 

The feeling of Patrick’s hand wrapped around your throat as his come paints your skin has you catapulting over the edge. Eyes rolling back in your head as your convulsing pussy gushes wet over his spent cock. 

You drag in greedy lungfuls of air, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. “You came first.” You say breathlessly, voice scratchy and hushed. Patrick chuckles against your skin, swatting the tender flesh of your ass lightly. 

“Shut the fuck up.” He mutters half-heartedly, nuzzling his nose in your neck in a way that seems far too intimate for what the two of you just did. You don’t say anything.

Patrick eventually peels himself off your back, but the warmth of his body stays wrapped around you as he starts to gently wipe your skin clean. You’re ready to scold him for using some poor guy's coat as a come-rag, but when you turn your head to glare at him he’s using the inside of his own shirt. You wrinkle your nose, but a tiny smile fights its way onto your lips. So gross, you think with a sort of reluctant fondness.

He leans over to fix your panties back over your puffy, abused pussy. Your thighs continue to shake weakly as you try to stand on your own, still unsteady without Patrick holding you up. He gives you a sweet kiss on the back of your shoulder, smacking his lips loudly. You huff out a tiny laugh, pushing away from the door to face him.

You watch him as he languidly gets re-dressed. He looks well-fucked, his hair and clothes are mess, his face is flushed and sweaty. Your eyes trail down to where he’s buttoning up his atrocious shorts. 

The fabric around the crotch is darkened with your release, wetness soaking the denim around the zipper and front pockets. You gawk at it, a mix of terror and excitement swirling through your stomach. “You can’t go back out like that.” you say to his shorts, shame burning your cheeks. 

Patrick follows your gaze down to his crotch. A pleased smirk plays on his lips when he looks back at you. “I’ll text you later.” Is all he says, zipping his fly and turning towards the door. 

“You don’t have my number.” You say, tugging the skirt of your dress down over your hips. You can slowly feel the horny fog leave your brain, leaving you clear-minded and a little panicked.

He cracks the door open, but before walking out of the closet he looks back at you over his shoulder. “Art’ll give me your number. “ He says casually with a small shrug of his shoulder. You suddenly feel sick, wondering how many other people have heard that line before getting completely ghosted. 

Patrick must see the negative thoughts running through your mind play out on your face. He gives you an actual smile, one that has his eyes crinkling up the tiniest bit at the corners. “Promise.” He says with a reassuring nod, it’s the most sincere you’ve ever seen him. You bite your lip to stop from smiling at the hope blooming in your stomach, nodding back at him slowly. He throws you one last toothy grin before he’s walking out and closing the door behind him.

You sigh contently, staring at the closed door for a few beats before your phone buzzes to life from where it's laying on the floor. You bend over to search for it, blindly rooting around until you see the tiny display light. The ringing stops before you can answer, when you flip the screen up to check your inbox you have seven missed texts and two missed calls.

Four texts and two calls from Art, and just three texts from Tashi.

arty where are you? i’ve been looking for you are you okay? hello???

tash you know you're not invisible right? everyone saw your little show have fun <3

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

mini a/n: yes i did change the title leave me lmao love you!

[kyxhiin]

Expectation, Reasonings, and Ignorance.

(Sorry I wrote the for angst I couldn't find anywhere)

Billy or well Captain Marvel noticed that the justice league doesn't really care all much about what happens to him or how he's feeling. They're all so much more caring and worrisome about Superman who will crumble at a green kryptonites touch, and become no better than a man when he's exposed to Red sun. And Batman, a mere human capable of fighting against metas. Nobody cares for him whenever he got blasted away, kidnapped, shot, stabbed, threatened, attacked, assaulted, hurt, or whatever that goes along those strings since they know, he won't die. He knows that some members of the Justice League care about him as a respectable member of the team and a colleague, but even he see's the annoyed stares of when he gets too overwhelming for everybody.

Nobody cares if he says he doesn't want to drink. They order him a beer anyway. Nobody cares if he says he doesn't wanna find a partner. They flirt with him anyway. Nobody cares if he's hurt. They shrug it off anyway.

They see him as this indestructible powerful happy go lucky individual. Who can't get hurt, Can't feel any other feelings other than positive ones.

He cried once, he got angry once, he broke down ONCE. But he still sees the fear in their eyes everytime his smile slips.

Fear is what they felt, a smile was the only thing that could relieve it. So he put on a mask. A happy mask which no one can see through.

He saw how happy Batman's Robin's were. They never missed a chance to swing around, play with people, and be protected. When Captain Marvel is Billy, he's far from marvelous. Pain creeps through every corner of his body, hunger eats him from inside out, his mouth dries little by little, and his once chubby happy cheeks became hollow and bruised. Yet he still smiled, he kept smiling. Smile was the only thing he knew. Smile was the only thing he had to do.

The League expected so much from him. But cared so little. Once he was blasted into the ground, nobody cared to look. He'll be fine is probably what they thought. But that blast hurt, it hurts so badly. It hurted the hollow body that is Captain Marvel. Gritting his teeth through his smile he got up. A Giant hole was there in the place of his stomach. Ouch.

He doesn't like saving women or men around his age. They don't stop when their told no. He lost count on how many men or woman have tried to kiss him every time he saved them. He extended his head every time in hopes their lips don't touch before landing everytime. Ew.

There was this one time where he tried to be included in the meetings, like giving advice. He thought he did pretty well before everybody laughed, patting him on the back. "Nice Joke" was what they said. He was so embarrassed.

...

[subbmissivesuccubus]

Be a good girl~

Disclaimer: Contains Daddy kink, Dom Uzui, Sub reader, Rough sex, some humiliation, degradation, size kink, brat taming, spanking, a bit of breeding kink

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

Uzui didn't know how to explain it, but he's been craving for a bratty submissive to fulfill his desires. Suma, Makio and Hinatsuru were incredible women and he loved them with all his heart, but they weren't interested in being submissive in the bedroom, nor were they fans of rough, kinky sex and Uzui would never ask them to do anything they weren't comfortable with.

But his desire to fold a cutie underneath him and pound her till she was a crying, sobbing, blubbering mess- her ass red from his spankings, makeup running down her face as she begged Uzui to not force more orgasms onto her overstimulated body- wasn't something he could hide. So the four of them came to an agreement. His wives gave him permission to find someone who might scratch that itch for him, who'd be the submissive he needed. And the very day they had that conversation, Uzui met you. A couple of ranks below the Hashira but climbing the ladder pretty quickly, you were a formidable warrior oozing with talent and strength. You were one of the better fights in the corporation and he knew it was only a matter of time before you became a pillar. You were tasked with assisting him on a new mission to track down a dangerous demon. What was supposed to last till sundown was completed within a few hours, you and Uzui making a fantastic team. You tracked down the demon, avoided its traps and tricks and along with Uzui, the two of you cut off it's head. With time to spare and not having any other missions to finish, the two of you took refuge in the Wisteria inn.

After a nice soak at the hot springs, the two of you met up in your room to share some food and drinks. Cups clinked together as you both drank some nice sake, Uzui having convinced you to relax around him for tonight and to just enjoy yourself. Both of you dressed in soft, comfortable yukata's, the vibe quickly turned friendly as the alcohol allowed you to loosed up a bit around him.

"So, are you in a relationship with anyone?" Uzui asked you. "If I was, I wouldn't be in a room with you alone." you retorted. Uzui raised an eyebrow, "I have three wives you know and i'm in this room with you alone." "Oh yeah!" you said, having genuinely forgotten, feeling guilty for some reason, "I shall leave then. This might be seen as inappropriate-"

"Sit back down." Uzui ordered the second he saw you make a move to leave, smiling when you obeyed him, "My wives wouldn't mind. In fact, they've given me permission to pursue a fourth partner if I wanted to. So don't overthink it."

"Oh..." you said, not knowing what to make of that, "If you say so." Your heart skipped a beat over that news. You weren't blind to how ridiculously attractive Uzui was, the man a walking embodiment of sexy. He looked so good in his uniform but here, with his hair let down and wearing a loose Yukata, you had to avert your eyes more than once from his chest.

"So, assuming you had a partner, why did things end?"

"Huh? oh- uh- it's kind of embarrassing..."

"Hmm? Do tell~" Uzui said with a smirk, leaning back on an arm as he nestled his cup of sake in his hand, "I enjoy some gossip."

"Well, he..uh...he was kind of lousy in bed."

"Oh?"

"Yeah- like really bad. I don't think he made me satisfied even once."

"Oh, you poor thing." Uzui cooed as he took a sip, "That sounds frustrating."

"It was." You said with a nod, "Honestly, all the guys I've dated have been the same. And judging from the stories my other friends have told me, they face the same problem. Men just don't know how to please women."

"Well, I don't know what type of guys you've slept with," Uzui said with a smirk, "But I'm happy to say I do not lack in that department. You can't keep three wives without doing a satisfactory job."

"Hah! Yeah right." you said with a laugh, dismissing his brag, "I bet they're faking. Most men fail to satisfy one woman, let alone three."

"Perhaps. But I'm not most men." Uzui said, a twinge of annoyance in his voice over your bratty attitude, "with my stamina, it takes all three of them to drain my balls completely."

You hiccuped at his vulgar words, quickly gathering yourself before he could notice. Perhaps it was the alcohol that was making your bratty side come out, or maybe it was because of how comfortable you were around Uzui now, but either way, you couldn't control your tongue.

"Just because you have big muscles doesn't mean you have a big cock. And even if you do, I bet you don't know how to use it!"

"Oh yeah? And how are you so sure?" Uzui asked, "Pretty little thing like you- you wouldn't be able to last five minutes if I speared you on my dick."

"I bet I could handle you!" You said, hands on your hips, leveling Uzui with a glare.

"Really?" Uzui asked, a twinkle in his eye as he looked you up and down, heart skipping at the idea that he might have found someone to play with already, "You sound confident."

"I am." you said, puffing your chest out, an action Uzui enjoyed ogling at, "I bet I can rock your world and not even break a sweat! and I'd bet you'd not make me cum even once." Uzui laughed, a giant smile on his face before he patted his lap, legs crossed and inviting, "Come and prove it then."

"Wait- really?" you asked, not expecting that response. You were just teasing, hoping to annoy him a bit but- "Sure. Unless, you didn't mean it. Chickening out already?" the Hashira asked.

With a huff, your pride refusing to take a hit, you crawled over to Uzui and sat on his lap, your Yukata bunching a bit around your thighs as you straddled him.

"Feel that?" he asked, hands having a tight grip on your hips as he made you grind down against him. You bit down a squeal as you felt his hardness press against your core, gulping as you could tell how big he was even through the layer of clothing. You tried to keep level-headed, but Uzui could see right through your poor attempts.

"And you know what?" he asked, hands sliding from your hips to your ass, the man taking greedy handfuls of your pump skin as he groped you, making you gasp, "I'm only half hard~"

"L-Liar!" You said, unable to bite your tongue from responding. He already felt so big against you- and he was only halfway there?! Uzui laughed, before saying:

"Yeah? Why don't you check?" the man asked, quickly untying the sash around his Yukata before leaning back a bit on his arms, a look in his eyes that clearly meant he was challenging you. You gulped as the fabric started to move aside, giving you a generous peek of his sculpted torso. A big, wide body with washboard abs and big pecs, you had to stop yourself from drooling.

"What's wrong?" he asked, "Just going to keep looking? I thought you said you could handle me."

"I-I can!" You snapped, your pride not allowing you to back down, "You're so impatient."

Uzui's chuckle made the hairs on the back of your head prick up, a certain darkness to it. "You know, I'm keeping track of all the bratty comments you make. I can't wait till it bites you in the ass~"

"Sh-shut up!"

"That's another one~"

With a huff, you leaned forward against Uzui's leaning body, gulping as you gripped the folds of his yukata and pulled them apart, completely exposing his torso to you. Never being one to be so forward but also refusing to back down, you pressed you face against his neck and kissed it, your soft lips touching his fair skin. Uzui's groan of content could be felt on your lips as you slowly started kissing his body, a hand coming up to run up his abs. You slowly got more and more confident, your tongue peaking out to lick at his collarbone, your hips grinding down harder against his member. But your pride took a hit when Uzui suddenly started chuckling, making you frown and look up and him.

"Something funny?" you asked, annoyed.

"Yes. You. Kissing and touching me like a blushing virgin. Is this what you meant when you said you'd rock my world? Because if so, I'm not impressed."

You scoffed, cheeks heating up in embarrassment, "You- well excuse me for not being a whore like you-"

But before you could finish your sentence, one of Uzui's hand shot up, grabbed the back of your hair and pulled harshly, making you gasp as your neck was suddenly snapped back. "Watch that filthy mouth of yours." he said, cock twitching as he heard your gasps, "I think it's time I teach you who's in charge here."

"Y-you started it!" you gasped out, head paining from how he was pulling your hair, words hard to speak from how your neck was being stretched. Uzui simply clicked his tongue, "Still have an attitude. I'm afraid I don't have the patience to wait for you to move things along." His free hand expertly tugged at the sash of your yukata and ripped it off of you, making you gasp as your body was exposed to him, no time to feel shy as he tugged your head down and met you for a kiss. It was a greedy and feral lip lock, Uzui immediately massaging your tongue with his own, dominating the kiss effortlessly.

Maybe you did bite off more than you could chew.

But damn, if you weren't excited.

"I've been wanting to bend your bratty ass over my knee and teach you a good lesson every since you opened your mouth." Uzui growled as he bit your lower lip, making you yelp, "Telling me you'll rock my world when you blush like a virgin when you grind on my dick- how adorable."

"That's not- I-" you tried to protest, not knowing what you were protesting in the first place.

"Shut up." Uzui said, kissing you again before picking you up with one hand, your legs wrapped around his waist with his hand under your butt. "We're going to the bedroom." he said, easily carrying you towards said room, "It's time I teach you some manners. And remember, five minutes are on the clock."

Uzui got you to cum in three minutes.

Once he threw you on the bed, he ripped your Yukata off, followed by your undergarments, leaving you completely naked. He shrugged off the fabric he had on as well, his cock springing out of its confines and you swear you forgot how to breathe for a second.

How on earth did you have the audacity to joke that his dick wasn't big? It was a monster of a member, long and thick with heavy balls dangling between his legs. You gulped as he crawled onto the bed, looking down at you like a predator stalking its prey. He grabbed your legs and spread them apart, exposing your sex to him. Gripping you on the back of your thighs, he pushed you enough to make your body bend, your cunt exposed to him even more obscenely.

"U-Uzui-san!" you squealed, face red hot at the way he was staring at your cunt.

"Daddy."

"Wha-"

"You're going to call me Daddy." he explained, licking his lips as he leaned down, his mouth inching towards your sex, "and Daddy needs to prepare your tiny pussy to take his fat cock."

And that's how you experienced the fastest orgasm of your life. Within three minutes, Uzui was drinking down your cum, the man's mouth and tongue so expertly pleasuring you, it was a clear loosing battle. He laughed into your cunt as you came, the vibration making your body tremble even more as he ate you out, paying extra attention to your clit as he took the sensitive bud into his mouth and sucked so hard, it almost made you cum again.

Once you were down from your high, once he looked down on you as he wiped your juices off his lips- you knew you were fucked.

"So," he said, picking up the sash of your yukata from where he discarded it before wrapping it a few times around his hand and making a show of pulling it tightly to make a 'crack' sound, "Remember how I mentioned I want to take you over my knee?"

~~~~~

"Say it."

"I- I don't w-want to-"

"Say it or I'll spank you all night."

With a sob, knowing full well he meant it, you had no choice but to relent, swallowing down your pride as you said:

"D-Daddy please stop spanking my n-naughty pussy!"

Head hanging upside down from how you were placed over Uzui's knee, the blood rushing to your ears almost made you miss the way Uzui groaned.

"Is your poor pussy in pain?" he cooed, petting said pussy. It was hot to the touch, your pussy lips dyed a bright red, matching your ass. A man of his word, he spanked you as punishment for your bratty behavior and comments, holding you still as he rained spanks down on your poor butt, your hands tied behind your back, unable to do anything about it. Once he was satisfied with marking up your ass, he spread your legs a bit and started spanking your pussy, laughing at the way you twitched and shook, your cries of pain only making his cock get harder.

He slapped your pussy again, making you squeal. "Answer me."

"Yes! Yes- m-my pussy hurts so much Daddy!"

"Aww, poor baby~" he said, raining tiny pats on your cunt repeatedly, not as hard but still enough to make your body tremble, "have you learned your lesson?"

"Yes Daddy!" you said with zero hesitation.

"Are you going to act like a brat again?"

"I won't, I p-promise! I'll be good-"

"That's my girl," Uzui said, cupping your pussy gently, the warmth of his hand against your sore, red cunt making you gasp, "But we're not done yet. Make sure you keep your promise, alright?"

~~~~~

"U-U-Uzui-s-san! S-slow down p-please!" you squealed, voice jumping as Uzui jack-hammered into you, his hips practically a blur as he pounded your pussy. Fucking you from behind, he ignored your cries as he brought a leg up to better fuck you, laughing at your yelp and the way your pussy clamped around him.

"That's not my name," he growled, the grip he had on your hips bruising as he bashed his cock into your poor cunt, "What's. My. Name?" He spanked your ass three times to put emphasis on his words, your body jumping with each hit. Tears filled your eyes from the burn, no doubt a bright, red hand-print left behind on your already red skin. The burn of Uzui's hips slapping against you took your breath away, your poor spanked ass and pussy not getting a break.

"D-Daddy!" you cried out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Uzui showed no signs of slowing down- if anything you felt his cock grow bigger inside you- "Daddy please- please- please slow down? P-Please!"

"Shhh, you can take it, right?" Uzui said, snickering as a hand grabbed the back of her head and pushed, smothering your face against the mattress, "Didn't you say you could handle me? Where'd your fight go?"

Your sobs were muffled by the cloth, his grip on your head unrelenting. You gripped the bed-sheets so hard veins were popping out on your hands, hands no longer tied up, your tears soaking into the mattress. The lack of air only made your body get even more sensitive, your pussy clamping down harder against Uzui's fat cock.

"You were such a fucking brat-" Uzui growled, feeling the familiar knot in his abdomen start to tighten, "Talking such big- fuck that's good- such big game! Saying you could take me- but look at you now. Pathetic~"

He gripped your hair and pulled, ignoring your cry of pain as your neck snapped back, your body following the movement until you were upright on your knees, Uzui's firm body pressed against your back. With a laugh, he let go of your hair only to then catch you in a choke-hold. His huge biceps pressed against your neck, restricting your airways, the man snickering at your feeble attempt to grab him. You were held up by his arm around your throat and his cock slamming against you, completely at his mercy, as you were the entire night.

"I like them pathetic~" Uzui growled into your ear before giving your lobe a bite, pulling on it with his teeth, making you squeal. Your face was turning a bright red, your mouth wide open and eyes rolling to the back of your head. The force of his thick member splitting apart your poor pussy combined with the warmth of his body behind you and the tight feeling of his arm against your neck- you never felt like this before:

Completely and utterly fucked.

You had already cum three times, the man fingering you to your orgasm after he spanked you and fucking you to climax out when he stuffed you with his cock.

Being wrong never felt so good.

His hips kept working into you, the slap of his balls against your cunt so obscene, you could still hear it despite the blood flowing around your head. One hand gripping his biceps while the other went back to grab at his thrusting hip, you held on for dear life, thoughts leaving your head as you sunk into a mental state where all you could think about was Uzui.

"Ooh~ That's what I like to see~" Uzui groaned, the expression on your face making his sadistic side purr in happiness. Seeing you completely fucked out and at his mercy- this is what he needed- this is what he craved.

"Fucked the brat right out of you, didn't I?" the man said, reveling in his accomplishment, "What was it you said to me? I can't satisfy one woman, let alone three? Hmm? Hmm?"

With a slap to your thigh, you yelped as Uzui's free hand went between your legs, his rough finger starting to twirl your clit around. "Daddy- no- too sensitive!" you pleaded, body twitching underneath his hold as you felt spikes of pleasurable pain run through you as he toyed with your sensitive bud, "Please- i'm sorry! I'm- ah- sorry!"

"Sorry for what?" Uzui growled, pinching your clit so hard it made you scream, "Be specific you naughty little brat!"

"I'm sorry f-for making fun of you!" you confessed, "Sorry for saying you're not g-good in bed- you're amazing- fuck- ah- ah!"

"All it takes is some cock to get to behave, hmm?" Uzui snarled.

"Daddy- i'm gonna cum- can I cum? Please?" you begged, knowing well from last time that he expected you to ask for permission. "Go ahead." Uzui said, hand working your clit even faster, "Greedy slut. Cumming four times while Daddy hasn't even cum once. You better make it up to me."

He chocked you even harder, veins popping in his muscles as he took your breath away, literally. The lack of air made your body go into overdrive, face red as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Within seconds, you squirted all over his cock, the first time you ever experienced that, liquid gushing out of your pussy, dripping down both your bodies before seeping into the mattress. Uzui held your trembling body down, letting out a cheeky whistle as his hips didn't relent, fucking your orgasm for every single drop.

"Fuck! That was so fucking hot!" Uzui said with a laugh, "You're going to do that again." You could do nothing as he pushed you back onto the bed, your limbs having no strength to hold you up as you fell flat on your stomach, just lying down on the bed. But that seemed to be what Uzui wanted, the man following you as he lied down on top of you and started fucking you pro bone. You sobbed as his cock somehow went even deeper, slamming against your womb mercilessly. The weight on his body on you coupled with the ravenous feeling of his member fucking you within an inch of your life almost made you black out.

"Daddyyy!" you cried out, tears streaming down your cheeks as your pussy was pounded, "C-Can't cum anymore- please-" You probably said 'please' more time tonight that you had in your entire life. "You think you're done?" Uzui growled, hips not loosing their rhythm as he chased his pleasure, your pussy so wet and hot, he had to focus real hard to not climax immediately. It was only thanks to his training as a demon slayer that he could last this long- his breathing techniques allowing him to delay his orgasm as much as possible. If he was a normal man, no doubt he would have came ages ago. But it was thanks to his trained body that he could keep going which was good, because he wasn't done punishing you.

"No. You're done when I say so, understand?" You sobbed as a response. "You're done when I empty my balls inside this perfect pussy of yours and breed you- got it?" "Y-Yes Daddy." "That's a good girl. Don't pass out on me now, alright? I'll keep fucking you anyway."

~~~~~

You woke up the next morning, every inch of your body in pain and sore, especially your pussy which took load after load of Uzui's cum. You lost count how many times you came, the rest of the night being a blur and you remembered nothing but him breeding you. At some point he caught you in a mating press and fucked you so hard you swore you temporarily blacked out, waking up only to feel him fill your womb up again.

You sat up on the bed, looking to the side and scoffed at your reflection in the nearby mirror. You looked like a mess. Exhaustion was clear on your face, your eyes sunken from the tears you cried, hair a mess and your naked body littered with bite marks and hickies. You looked at your partner, the man looking the complete opposite. Silky white hair draped over his pillow, his skin clear and glowing with a soft smile on his handsome face.

You had an urge to smack his pretty face, annoyed at how much he wrecked your body despite the fact that you enjoyed every second of it. He truly brought out something in you and it was scary- but damn it was fun.

Deciding to listen to your intrusive thoughts, you raised your hand up to smack him, when he suddenly opened his eyes, greeted to the image of you with your hand raised. Thinking quickly on your feet, you gulped and blinked your eyes as you slowly brought your hand down to cup his cheek lovingly, rubbing it sweetly like that was your plan all along.

"...Because I wrecked your body last night, I'll let this slide." Uzui said, grasping your hand with his own before placing a gentle kiss on it, "But I won't be so nice next time."

"So there's gonna be a next time?" you asked with a smile, plopping down against his broad chest.

"Of course." Uzui said, running a gentle hand through your hair, "You belong to Daddy now."

[madelynn-sienna]

ms americana and the heartbreak prince (logan sargeant x reader)

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★ prompt : ❛❛ it's you and me, that's my whole world... ❜❜ ★ pairing : logan sargeant x reader ★ face claim : unnamed women on pinterest ★ genre : fluff and comfort ★ a/n : i wanted to release this yesterday but got a bit busy, but in light of william's announcement, i figured a happy, feel-good logan piece would be nice for fans of his out there (+ i feel really bad for him) 🥺 ★ feedback and requests are always appreciated!

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f1 🚩 Red flag in FP3 at Circuit Zandvoort as Logan Sargeant suffers a huge crash. Thankfully the Williams driver is out of the car and reports that he is doing okay, but the same cannot be said for his car.

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user1 he's making williams bleed money.

user2 he is definitely bringing in more than he costs. user3 logan's been in what four crashes already? user4 he's made them lose at least $3 million in repair work.

user5 glad he's okay!!

user6 they need to fire him.

user7 exactly, logan isn't good enough to race in formula one user8 dude roscoe or leo could probably drive better than him user9 honestly, how does he have a job atp user10 petition to fire sargeant before monza

user11 why is he still here?

user12 right? the crash was so avoidable. user13 he should have been replaced over summer break.

user14 how does his guy have any fans?

user15 he doesn't user16 mainly just fangirls who like him for his looks user17 how does he still have a car or a team?

user18 just sack him honestly

user19 guys stop saying bad things about him, i can't like everything!

user20 you got me at the first half 😂

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williamsracing We'd like to thank Logan for his work over the past two seasons. He will continue as a member of the Williams family and we wish him all the best for his future endeavours.

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user1 good riddance

user2 right? how did that guy have a car for this long!? user3 i mean i can drive better than logan 😂 user4 that's not too difficult uk, just don't crash 👀

user5 well done williams!

user6 took them long enough to come to their senses user7 now that they have a good car, it really was time to sack him

user8 i feel so bad 💔

user9 thank god, he's just a financial liability

user10 bye bye 😊

user11 really was about time! user12 can't wait to see colapinto in the car user13 watch him make the points in his debut race user14 that'll be so embarrassing for sargeant user15 who cares?

user16 nooooooo 🦅 🇺🇸

user17 let's go franco colapinto 🇦🇷

user18 is this really a shock to anyone?

user19 i was counting down the days after zandvoort user20 i thought they'd sack him right after that fp3 crash!

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text exchanges between y/n & logan dated 27/08.

logansargeant added to their story.

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yourinstagram there's escape in escaping.

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lilyzneimer this is so cute 💖

user1 couple goals fr fr

user2 right? i need a logan in my life 🥺 user3 why so he can crash into you? man's jobless.

logansargeant a much needed break with my favourite person ❤️

yourinstagram you deserved every second of it! logansargeant thank you for making it so special, babe. logansargeant i'm still smiling 😊 yourinstagram awww, i love you more than words can describe 💕 logansargeant not as much as i love you, but nice try 😉 user4 why are they so adorable?!?

oscarpiastri i hope you two enjoyed france, it's a beautiful place!

user4 i'm sure they did 👀 yourinstagram we had a great time, got to visit annecy too. lilyzneimer they took our suggestion osc❣️

alexalbon been to france twice in less than two months 😮

logansargeant did it without the yacht this time dude. yourinstagram its logan's new favourite country 👀 user5 what happened to mr america?! logansargeant the betrayal babe 😢

user6 they're so cute together 🫶

user7 right? we love ms americana and her heartbreak prince💜

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logansargeant Couldn't be prouder, dr. l/n 🎓 ❤️

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georgerussell congratulations y/n!

yourinstagram aww, this is so cute babe - i'm going to cry 🥺

logansargeant you deserve this moment so much ❤️ logansargeant i can't wait to watch you shine as a doctor 🤩

lilymhe such a beautiful graduation 💕

alexalbon where are my photo credits logan?!? congrats y/n

logansargeant you took one picture. alexalbon which you used! yourinstagram why do i sound like an afterthought alex 😢 alexalbon sorry? 😅 yourinstagram that sounds like a question, i'm heartbroken! alexalbon you're dramatic yourinstagram well, so are you. logansargeant presenting the drama king and queen, everyone. user1 i live for the alex and y/n banter! user2 right? they are so sibling-coded.

oscarpiastri we're so proud of you, y/n!

lilyzneimer ❤️

user3 excuse me, logan's girlfriend is a doctor?!?

user4 yeah, she graduated from oxford, she's like super smart! user5 i'm so happy for her tbh

user6 love how successful they both are rn!

user7 right? logan's doing amazing in indycar rn 🤩 user8 they're honestly living the american dream user9 after all the williams and f1 drama, i'm so deserve it

user10 it's giving miss americana

user11 so demure, so mindful user12 that trend's getting so old now 😭

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yourinstagram It's you and me, that's my whole world 💍 🫶

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user1 oh. my. god.

user2 we're finally getting mr and mrs americana🤩 user3 i can't believe she'll be mrs sargeant soon!

lilyzneimer congratulations 💕

user4 just can't take the florida out of the man

user5 i was just about to comment that! user6 this is definitely in fort lauderdale user7 they met there, so it's probably really special <3

georgerussell can't wait for the wedding mate!

alexalbon can we take a minute to appreciate my help?

logansargeant shhhhh 👀 yourinstagram go on... lilymhe please, you literally did nothing alex alexalbon i did too, i let logan borrow the marquee letters! lilymhe you let him borrow two m's and a y user8 i live for lily roasting alex in the comments 😂

oscarpiastri congrats, just saying, i expect an invitation 🥺

yourinstagram the matchmaker gets a spot on the bridal party 👀 user9 oscar introduced y/n and logan?!? user10 don't be afraid to spill the story oscar, we're all waiting...

user11 this is going to be the wedding of the year!

user12 more like the century user13 of course, it's the royal american wedding 🦅 🇺🇸

user14 i'm so happy, this has been such a good year for them

user15 right? y/n's a doctor now and logan won rookie of the year user16 what a turnaround after his f1 career user17 counting the days till they're begging him to return user18 his replacements haven't even bagged any points 😂

･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ

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yourinstagram I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover...

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logansargeant you made me the luckiest man alive, mrs sargeant ❤️

logansargeant or should i say dr sargeant 👀 yourinstagram not as lucky as i am mr sargeant 💕 yourinstagram or should i say indycar drivers' champion 😉

oscarpiastri so happy for the two of you!

lilyzneimer what a beautiful wedding ❤️

user1 you can't just drop a whole wedding with no warning 😭

user2 right? like i'm going to need 2-3 days to recover user3 i love how they were able to keep a whole wedding hidden user4 exactly, i'm glad they got some privacy.

alexalbon and best man of the year goes to...

oscarpiastri me! alexalbon the lies, the outrage, we both know it was me 😮 oscarpiastri please. alexalbon y/n, logan, what's the verdict? yourinstagram i plead the fifth! logansargeant what she said. alexalbon traitors.

user5 y/n's the prettiest bride i've ever seen 💕

user6 and logan's the most handsome groom! user7 they really are a match made in heaven. user8 i'm so, so happy for them!

user9 these pictures are so cute

user10 definitely the wedding of the year 💖

user11 that dip is so extra, but we love it 💙

user12 presenting miss americana and her heartbreak prince!

･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ

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logansargeant I was enchanted to meet you❣️

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yourinstagram the best christmas gift ever ❤️

logansargeant absolutely, i couldn't have asked for anything more logansargeant thank you for giving me this opportunity darling 💕 yourinstagram couldn't have done it without you love 💖 alexalbon they may be all love dovey here, but that's all lies alexalbon y/n threatened logan so many times during labour 😂 lilymhe cut my girl some slack, you'll have a broken hand if you put me through that kind of pain 😠 alexalbon but babies? 🥺 user1 we all know who's sleeping on the sofa tonight...

oscarpiastri so who do we have a godfather in mind?

alexalbon we both know it's going to be me. oscarpiastri i'm just saying, i am more responsible alexalbon for the 100th time, i didn't lose my cousin oscarpiastri no, you just misplaced him in a massive crowd 👀 user2 i didn't know i needed alex and oscar banter in my life.

user3 awww, the baby is so adorable

user4 right? logan and y/n make such cute babies user5 i wonder what they've named the baby... user6 we all know it's going to be the most american name ever!

user7 congratulations!

georgerussell amazing news guys! can't wait to meet her 💕

estebanocon Félicitations à vous deux!

･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ

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logansargeant I am incredibly excited to announce that i'll be returning to formula one in the coming season to drive for Haas. I would like to thank Andretti for giving me three phenomenal seasons with IndyCar and two drivers championships. I wouldn't be here without your help and guidance. This a dream come true for me, and I cannot appreciate my wife enough for all the sacrifices she has made and love and support she has showered me with in the last seven years. I am who I am today because of her.

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yourinstagram so proud of you logan, i love you ❤️

logansargeant you mean the world to me, i love you so much 💕

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[redclercs]

DELICATE✰CHARLES LECLERC.

xv. he was sunshine, i was midnight rain

— the one where you broke his heart 'cause he was nice.

❝𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘸𝘦 𝘨𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨? 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘸𝘦 𝘨𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨? 𝘖𝘩, 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥? 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥? 𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥?❞ —𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐘, 𝟏𝟑.

warnings: angst, not proofread and pls go easy on me i'm coming out of the worst block everrrrrrrrrr. our girlie is making poor choices pls hate her a bit for it, the last bit is charles centered. 2.23k words (+articles!)

masterlist ✢ next

by Tom Gill

The worst time to have a carreer on Public Relations is when your client is as unhinged as y/n y/ln has proven to be. Many people, myself included, can't help but feel sorry for whoever is on her team because there's only so much someone can do to put out a fire when the person burning is the same one who keeps lighting the matches.

y/n just can't stop messing up, can she? Just when her fans thought she would rise from the ashes with an outstanding movie deal, the 'Queen of Romcoms' has to go ahead and mess things up by proving that people who aren't blinded by her master manipulations are right: y/n y/ln is in fact a cheating snake.

The Deuxmoi post talking about an actress involved with a Formula 1 driver and her presence at the Italian Grand Prix last Sunday are enough confirmation of the fact. y/n is not ashamed to be seen on broad daylight with the guy that broke off her engagement.

Don't kill the messenger, y/n fans. Aidan Kim and Victoria Presley did warn you.

New York, United States, September 10th.

It feels like you've just finished unpacking when you find yourself throwing stuff in a suitcase once again. There is little to none excitement in you as you decide between a couple of blouses and recite Amy's lines outloud inside your messy apartment.

"Wait—that's not right," you huff, unaware that you've let the blouse you like the least inside the suitcase. The lines slip your mind like butter on a pan. Honestly, you've started to wonder if several of your braincells died in the past month. Nothing other than 'I want to be great or nothing' seem to have stuck. So much for how well that single line applies to your life.

"'It looks like it's never done a day of work in its life'," you mutter, picking the script up from the dining table. You have studied it a million times, gone through lines and rehearsals and a thousand other things. You have called Greta and Timothée and Saoirse and they have called you on their own accord to agree the accurate tones of scenes and interactions, and yet you are sure you are still going to mess everything up once the camera starts rolling. "God, help me."

The clock on your phone tells you it's 9:30 a.m. and you are nowhere being done with your luggage. Also, Charles' plane lands in less than an hour and you are not making it to the airport in time. He has a busy month race-wise and he has still made some time to come to New York before you leave for Boston in a couple days and you are both turned upside down with the Asian race-tour.

There is one reason—and one reason only— that Mildred has agreed that you should have these two days off. That reason is not Charles Leclerc, given the fact that she has grown to hate him even if she can admit, albeit to herself only, that he has done nothing wrong. You are supposed to be preparing more interviews and then a prolonged stage of silence while you focus on filming Little Women. Mildred has a whole plan laid out and that is another script you have to follow. No improvisations though, you have been warned.

─────────

Time has a funny way of passing by when it comes to Charles and yourself. Your whole relationship feels contained in a moment and also in a century, and every time you see each other again, even after just a few days a whole other bubble of time seems to have passed. You think it's Charles' way of making it feel special, making you feel special by looking at you like you're a part of him he's constantly missing when you're not right next to him. A 'lovesick fool' you have heard him been nicknamed by people who try to be nice, at least a little bit. Others sneer at how they can't wait for the 'honeymoon phase' to be over.

And it's precisely the way he looks at you before he's crushing you against his chest that makes you hold your tongue for the rest of the day. You cannot bring yourself to tell him the plan the people around you have made without asking for your input—much lesser his— to salvage your career and your reputation.

It nags at you how stupid you're being. Maybe some part of your brain did die between Sunday and today, but you are certain you won't be able to bear the disappointment in Charles' eyes when he finds out what you agreed to.

This visit is less touristy than the last time Charles came to New York. He's leaving tomorrow and you, the day after for Boston, so you want to bask in each other's company as much as possible. You go to a cupcake place and take pictures, all while Charles re-tells everything people have said about his win on Sunday. He's become even more of the Golden Boy he already was in the eyes of Ferrari fans, and you feel love swell in your chest at the fact. You love that he's loved, there's nothing he deserves more than to be loved.

"Will you show me the script now?" Charles asks, taking his light jacket off as he crosses the door to your apartment. A slight feeling of embarrassment flashes through you when you focus on the different disasters around the house but Charles either doesn't notice or doesn't mind as he makes himself comfortable on the couch where several pairs of your shoes are scattered.

"I think it would violate my contract somehow if I did," you chuckle, noticing that your travel kit toothbrush and toiletries are on the coffee table. "I was sure I had those in my luggage already," you groan, pointing at them.

Charles laughs, patting the spot next to him and motioning you over excitedly. "Can I see it please?" he elongates the 'e', with a mocking puppy eye look on his face. "Read me some of your favorite lines," he's suggested so several times and you refuse him every single one. It's not like he hasn't seen you act, Charles admitted in one of your phone calls to have binged all of your movies.

"I can't," you fall into the couch next to him, wrapping one arm around his neck. "You make me nervous, it won't turn out good."

"You see me work all the time," he grumbles against your hair, "And you too, make me nervous. You're being unfair."

"Oh, booohooo," you mock, nuzzling into his neck. "Your job is far more exciting than me reciting lines."

"It is not—"

His complaint is cut short as you kiss him, once, twice, so many times you lose count and he kisses you back between snickers and fake complaints about how there's only so much his heart can take before it explodes. It's so cheesy it makes you both cringe and burst with laughter before starting the scene all over again.

A re-run of a Foodnetwork reality show is playing in the background when you open your eyes after a short-lived nap. Charles is swiping through his phone with his other arm around you, the light in the apartment has faded almost completely giving way to late evening.

"Do you want to go out for dinner?" you ask pushing off of Charles' body and sit and rub your eyes. "Or should we order something?"

He locks his phone and stretches, still laying on his back. "Whatever you want to do, soleil."

You two are way too comfortable in your little cocoon to mess it up by going outside just to eat. Charles smiles, knowing you've already made your mind up.

You argue on the couch for ten minutes about what take-out to get and after you've finally placed the order on your phone, you get up to make some space the dining table.

"Here," you throw the bunch of papers at him softly. The 'Little Women' script is anotated from page one, and it is true that you probably shouldn't be showing it to him, but it doesn't really hurt anyone either. "Not a word, do you hear me, Leclerc?"

Charles laughs before crossing his heart with his index finger, eager to read about your next big thing.

You throw more stuff on your open suitcase, wipe the table down and look through your kitchen for an unopened bottle of wine while Charles reads and occassionally shouts something from the living room. He's so genuinely excited about seeing you bring Amy to life on the silver screen.

"Gooodddd, what's taking them so long?" you whine as you return to the living room. The 'your order is in progress' notification still alive on the screen of your phone. Charles doesn't seem to mind as he makes space for you to sit with him again.

"Couch potato," you stick your tongue out at him, placing your feet on his lap after reaching for the TV remote. You surf through a few channels, trying to remember what the name was of that crime documentary you wanted to watch on Netflix.

"...y/n y/ln making headlines again with her messy love life," the E! Show that's starting has your picture and Charles' next to each other.

Charles' eyes move from the last pages of the script to the TV and then to you. "Change the channel, love," he says as he reaches for the remote himself.

"Yeah," you click on the Netflix logo on the remote and the screen goes black as your phone pings, letting you know your food has been delivered to your apartment complex's lobby.

─────────

There is something beautiful about domestic life with Charles even if it just exists for scarce moments like this. The smell of coffee and the sound of his humming lull you into a peaceful state of mind as you prepare breakfast before once again leaving for the airport.

Messages from Mildred, three or four already, remind you that you must be ready for the list of things she had also reminded you of a million times already.

'how did he take it?' you read from your phone, Mildred again.

You look at Charles and open your mouth. Maybe now that he's leaving in a couple hours you'll work up the courage to tell him about how Mildred is staging your break-up right this second. Which means nothing, right? Keeping it lowkey is for the best, even for him.

Right?

You open your mouth and close it several times looking at your disheveled boyfriend and his sweet smile.

"What?"

"There's something I have to tell you," you breathe out, screwing the already too tight cap on the empty bottle of orange juice that rests on the table.

"So tell me," Charles' smile widens as he puts both elbows on the table, ready to listen.

"I'm really going to miss you." you chuckle awkwardly, and there is momentary gesture, barely perceptible, in Charles' face that tells you he knows that's not what you really wanted to say.

"Me too soleil, but we'll figure it out," he's reaching for your hand with a weaker smile on his face this time.

AFTER months of speculation about the nature of y/n's relationship with Formula 1 Pilot Charles Leclerc, a spokesperson for the actress has made an exclusive statemen for PEOPLE.

"They have never been romantically-involved," the source said. "Their friendship is undeniable but there's nothing more than that."

y/ln and Leclerc have been linked since April and spotted in public together several times, including at the Italian Grand Prix on September 3rd.

"Since becoming friendly they've ran into each other at several events," the source continues, "They are often surrounded by friends they have in common, such as Matilde Bassi and Timothée Chalamet. y/n knows it's too soon to put herself out there romantically."

Despite a rumor surfacing on an online gossip site that they took a romantic vacation together in Greece, y/n's spokesperson tells PEOPLE that "pictures are often released without context to create controversy."

Charles Leclerc has been blind-sided. Which, to be fair, in his career field is something he should be used to. But the feeling doesn't compare to being blind-sided by the person who is supposed to be your partner.

Charles understands, he always understands, or at least tries his best to do so. But this time, it really feels like he's reached his limit. It's not even about how he's become even more of the laughing-stock within his group of friends about how he's been parading y/n around and defending her honor for her to call their relationship 'casual' rather than not even getting a heads-up from her about the matter.

"Is there something you would like to talk about now, y/n?" Charles questions, trying his best not to let the anger flow into his voice.

Charles thinks the worst part is how long she stays silent, but it's not even close to what comes next.

"I tried telling you," she lies.

"When?" there is no point in hiding his anger anymore, even if he doesn't want to fight. This is one of those unavoidable things you expect to hit somewhere down the road in the relationship, not a month into it.

"I TRIED!" she repeats, unable to come up with any argument in her defense.

"You never tried! See that's the thing about you, you just wait for things to happen and then you 'try' to deal with the mess!" His accent is thickening with every word.

"If it bothers you so much—"

"What bothers me," he cuts her off, "Is how you cannot trust me with these things? What did you think I would say?!"

"Exactly what you're saying now, Charles," she sounds defeated and it manages to irk him an extra mile. "You don't understand—"

"I don't understand how you still care more about what people are going to say than about talking to me. I'm your boyfriend!"

There is another long silence during which he can hear faint yelling in the background of her side of the line. On his side of the world it's nearly midnight.

"I've been thinking," y/n nearly gasps, "That maybe we rushed things."

"Rushed things?" his voice is so small now he wonders if it can really travel half-way through the world.

"I— Maybe Mildred is right— I wasn't, I am not ready for a relationship." She stammers, and Charles can picture her pinching her thigh in that nervous tick she can't quite manage to get rid of.

"You can't even take responsibility for your own feelings?"

It's always Aidan, Victoria, Mildred... a handy list of people to put part of the blame on for when she doesn't want to say things herself.

And Charles accepts it. He accepts her messes because he wants her, but now apparently y/n doesn't even want him back.

"What do you even mean by that?" y/n scoffs.

"Can you even be honest with me, then? Say that it is you who doesn't want this relationship, y/n, don't put it on—"

"I'M NOT PUTTING IT ON ANYONE! THIS HAS BEEN A MISTAKE SINCE WE LEFT MYKONOS I—"

Charles didn't want to fight and now there is nothing to fight for, anyway. So he hangs the phone up, because sometimes things end in silence.

It's three am, and Charles Leclerc just got his heart broken.

─── team principal radio: ❝why hello there, i don't even know if you remember this fic but it is for my own peace of mind that I have to finish it!!! also i love these characters a lot, even when they're acting so selfish and stupid—looking at you y/n. Thank you if you are still here and like me, had to reread it to get to this chapter.❞

✰ paddock club members: NO PADDOCK CLUB THIS TIME BECAUSE I DON'T KNOW IF ANYONE STILL WANTS TO BE TAGGED.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

Clayton beresford x Female hockey player headcanons? Please and thank you!

CLAYTON BERESFORD X F!HOCKEY PLAYER HEADCANONS ⛸️

TW: at some point it contains sexual content, so if you're sensitive to that or don't feel comfortable with it, please do not read it for your own safety and comfort. THIS IS AWFULLY SHORT FOR SOMEONE LIKE ME

Author's note: I was never really interested in hockey so it was new to make. Although I hope I got everything, and if I made a mistake, please accept my dearest apologies. Also I got A LOT Clayton requests and wow..you guys are the best

Clayton Beresford who spotted you at the hockey game;

Clayton never imagined he'd find himself at a hockey game, let alone a women’s hockey match. His close friend had practically dragged him along, insisting he come to support his girlfriend, who played for the local team. Clayton agreed, more out of loyalty to his friend than any real interest in the sport.

The game was intense, fast-paced, and full of energy—much more exciting than Clayton had expected. But it wasn’t the speed of the players or the roar of the crowd that caught his attention; it was you. First, he caught a glimpse of your eyes.. somehow..and he felt something he for the long time had not felt at all. A fluttering feeling escaped through his body, unlocking the almost forgotten cell to butterflies that made him feel nervous with a deep hint of excitement

Gosh, he was there before and it didn't end well. He promised himself to stay away from women...yet he couldn't help this. He felt powerless to the feeling. His jaw tightened

He was a damn CEO, Clayton Beresford..yet he couldn't control his feelings..

"Nice game, huh?" His friend broke him out of his thoughts with a gathering pack of his cigarettes to the woman's disgust at their left

"Sir, you can not smoke in here" she said as the man hold back an eye roll

Clayton Beresford who the same night was introduced to you by his friend;

After the game, Clayton couldn’t shake the image of you from his mind. As fate would have it, his friend introduced him to the team after the game. When it was your turn to shake his hand, Clayton was momentarily lost for words. Up close, you were even more impressive—strong, yet approachable, with a warmth in your eyes that contrasted with the fierce competitor he’d seen on the ice.

“You played an incredible game,” he finally managed to say, surprised by how genuinely he meant it. Although he made sure to tear his gaze away from you and quickly scann all the girls from your team, so it would look like he's talking about them all

“Thank you” you replied with a smile, feeling a weird fluttering in your chest

Gosh, you were there before..he's just a random man that happened to just squeeze your hand a bit too long and have this extremely handsome fa-- no, you promised yourself to never look at another man after things with Luca..you can't just fall for any other guy that just wanted to congratulate your team..you're better than that, y/n

Clayton Beresford who over the next few weeks, found excuses to attend more games. Each time, he stayed a little longer after the match, hoping for a chance to talk to you. And each time, you found yourself looking forward to seeing him again. There was something about him—his quiet confidence, his genuine interest in you as a person, not just as an athlete—that drew you in. Your conversations started simple, about the game or mutual friends, but soon they became more personal. Clayton was different from the usual crowd you attracted—more thoughtful, more introspective. He wasn’t intimidated by your success or your passion for hockey. Instead, he admired it, and that admiration slowly turned into something deeper.

Clayton Beresford who invited you to dinner (aka date) after months of relationship (just because he wasn't sure to trust you after an experience with Sam)

Clayton Beresford who after months of dating asked you to move to his penthouse

Clayton Beresford who was your number one, biggest fan. Always tried to appear at your every game and if he couldn't, which was very rare, he watched it on his computer during his work

Clayton Beresford who learned to love hockey, not just because of you, but because he saw how much it meant to you. And you, in turn, found yourself drawn into his world, supporting his endeavors with the same passion he showed for your career.

Clayton Beresford whose gentle, nurturing nature was the perfect counterbalance to your fiery determination on ice. He admired your determination and strength, while you appreciated his thoughtfulness and stability.

Clayton Beresford who had with you a special game-day ritual. Before every match, Clayton (sometimes..but often) made love to you in hotel room..just a quick stress reveal session;

Clay's lips devour yours, hungrily returning the passionate kiss as he presses you against the wall, his hands wandering your body possessively "you're gonna play good for me, right baby?"

"mhm--wanna make you proud"

Clay's lips trail down your throat, leaving a trail of fiery kisses, when he murmurs against your skin "I will be, I promise... just give me everything you've got...but I'm already the proudest I could be" his tone breathless

You grabbed his curls, pulling on them slightly as he thrusted into your tight entrance in and out

He groaned so sinfully after deepened kiss, his hands gripping your hips as he thrusts deeper, hitting that sweet spot "you'll make me so proud, baby. my perfect little athlete..."

His words did not help with overtaking feeling you felt that made you almost surrender to it to the point your eyes closed

his hips snapping against yours with a fierce intensity "open your eyes, baby... I want to see those pretty eyes when you come undone for me..."

"its--its hard--"

He smirks against your lips, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he reaches around and grabs your ass, pulling you closer to him "i know..but look at me, baby... I need to see those pretty eyes"

he lets out a low groan as he feels you give in to him, his hips never stopped moving as he continues driving into you "yes, baby-fuck, just like that...ya can feel how close you're making me feel, hm?"

just as you were about to speak, clay covers your mouth with his hand, his thumb pressing against your plump, almost swollen lower lip "shhh, baby...save it for when I tell you to scream."

Clayton Beresford who, after particularly tough games, takes charge of your recovery at home. He’ll run a hot bath, prepare a meal, and make sure you get a massage to ease your muscles.

Clayton Beresford who is your emotional anchor when things get intense or when the pressure gets too much

Clayton Beresford who often works out with you (mostly in the mornings). Whether it’s hitting the gym or going for runs. Although not always he wants to, his more of a guy who could sleep all day and waking up around 6am only to exercise is..not really pleasing for him

Clayton Beresford who has accepted this part of your life where you love the cold and winter sports. For him it wasn't so shocking (although he prefers more warm weather). But still, you two often go on winter getaways to ski resorts, where you spend time skiing, snowboarding, and enjoying cozy evenings by the fireplace.

Clayton Beresford who's there for you during recovery (when you're injured and etc). He's really helping you to stay positive during this time and ensuring you have everything you need

Clayton Beresford who often took you out for small (or bigger) dates in your both free schedule

Clayton Beresford who absolutely loved to tease you about most of the things

Clayton Beresford who often searched comfort in your presence

Clayton Beresford who once surprised you with custom-made hockey gear. He collaborated with a designer to create equipment that was not only high-quality but also personalized with little details that meant something to both of you—like your initials intertwined with his, or a small symbol representing your relationship engraved on the inside.

Clayton Beresford who has a special tradition for celebrating your victories. After every big win, he takes you to your favorite spot in the city—whether it’s a cozy café, a scenic overlook, or a hidden gem of a restaurant—where you can relax and bask in the glow of your success together. And if your team lose, he tries to keep you positive, not overthink it much and focus on what's important.

Clayton Beresford who is a soft dom (obviously) however he loves watching you ride him. Struggling sometimes to accommodate his thick member in your tight core

Clayton Beresford who you visit on random days at his workplace out of boredom

Clayton Beresford who proudly wears the jersey with your number during games

Clayton Beresford who often got irritated at paparazzi that usually follow you two when you're in public, as people that just want to spend time with each other outside the shared walls

Clayton Beresford who saw you create a memory box filled with mementos from relationship with him—ticket stubs from your first game, photos, small gifts you’ve given each other, and even a few of those pre-game pep talk notes.

Clayton Beresford who's really on making expensive vacation in only high-quality places

Clayton Beresford who bought you expensive gifts

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(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

[httpswritings]

@alexiaps94 has liked your profile — Alexia Putellas x Reader

Word count: around 648

Warnings: none

Summary: You and Alexia match on an exclusive dating app.

“@alexiaps94 has liked your profile”

That was first notification you saw when you first checked your phone in the morning, still half asleep.

Some days ago, you signed up on Like.ly, an app similar to Tinder but extremely exclusive. The app was directed to wealthy people and reputed celebrities. You had to e-mail the company and wait if they accepted you on the company. If you were, you had to go through an interview where they'll ask you all types of questions, as the company itself would look for some potential matches to get you started. They did not succeed to your liking. They matched you with all sort of celebrities, but nobody properly caught your eye. 

You weren't a football fan, but you knew who Alexia was because of the expectation she woke up when she won her second Ballon D'Or and when Spain won the World Cup, as the press talked non-stop about the different problems with the federation, especially about the incident during the final. 

You clicked on her profile. Her profile pic was a picture with her dog, Nala. She had more pictures uploaded; you could see her with her family, her friends, her team and by herself. You scrolled down to the “About Me” paragraph.

“Hi! My name is Alexia. I like playing football, spending time with my family and learning new things. 😃”

“Cute”, you thought. You hesitated about what your next move should be. You liked her profile but decided to not write her yet. 

“Hi. I saw your profile some days ago and you seem lovely. I'd love to hear from you”. You hated the way you wrote that text. “Y/N, you want to get to know her as a friend, maybe as something more, this is not a business meeting”, you said to yourself. Your text was fine, you were only overreacting. If you knew they way Alexia reacted to your text, you'd feel more than accomplished with yourself.

“Hi, Y/N. Thank you! You seem really lovely too. I'm seeing that you have four cats! Wow, that's some good company. I think a get along better with dogs because I've been around them my whole life, but the cat life sounds fun too. 😸”

You chuckled as you read her message. “She's indeed very lovely”, you thought. 

“Yeah, so damn crazy, but it's quite fun😸😹” You had never used those emojis. Weird. Adorable but weird.

As you kept talking during the week with Alexia, you got to know her better. She told you about the passing of her dog, Nala, and how bad that affected her. You told each other about your life: family, friends, place of work. She even taught you a little bit of football, and you were so entertained you couldn't quite believe it, as you never showed any interested in football except for some random matches of the men's world cup. You started to educate yourself in women's football.

“Can I call you?”, was the message you received from her on a Saturday night. You had spent the whole day rotting on your sofa and talking to Alexia until your eyes started to feel really heavy. As she called you, and you responded, you started to breath uncontrollably rapid but at the same time, you felt so comfortable listening to her. Alexia's voice was soft, and her laugh sounded so delicate, you felt butterflies in your stomach every time you made her laugh.

“It was nice talking to you, Ale, but we both need some rest, especially you. You have training tomorrow.”

“... I liked hearing you calling me Ale”

“I like hearing you, Ale.”

“God, are you always this flirty?”

“Not in person. I'll have to be a little bit tougher when I'll have you in front of me.”

“No, don't be. I'm pretty sure I'd love the timid version of you. I can't wait to see it.”

[brooooswriting]

hiii it’s my first time making a request and I saw that you were looking for Leighton Murray x reader requests.

So I was thinking about Leighton x reader, where reader knows Leightons dad and he tries to match them up. And she’s like the whole package, she plays soccer with Whitney, is an Lgbt advocate and also joins Leighton’s advanced math class. Leighton feels threatened so it’s like academic enemies to lovers.

You're better than me

“Hello,” you greeted Leighton and the other two people in the room as she walked into her advanced math class. She was new in there after her family forced her to take harder classes. The other two greeted you happily while Leighton only rolled her eyes. You had to hold in a scoff, even if she wasn't the biggest fan of you, was it so hard to say hello?

While Leighton wished that this was the only time that she had to see you, it wasn't. You were also on the football team with Whitney and you often visited the women's center. So, she wasn't safe anywhere cause Whitney liked to bring you into their dorm to study since you were pretty good in all your classes.

This was precisely why Leighton could not be more excited for the family weekend, which was crazy because her family was exhausting. But at least you would be busy too, or at least she guessed that you would be.

“Hey Dad,” she said as her father got out of the car. He immediately walked up to hug her, holding her too close for her to get any air.

“Hello, how are you? How is Essex treating you?” he asked, not really hearing the answer as she had to mumble into his chest. “I can't wait for dinner tonight, I want you to meet somebody” he added as he finally let her go.

“Meet somebody? Please tell me you don't have a side chick.” She frowned looking at him.

“Leighton! No, of course not. Now, let's go. I believe we have a packed schedule.” She nodded and followed him into the building, constantly thinking about who she might have to meet. The blonde had to say that the day went quite well, it mostly did when she was alone with her dad. They talked about college, her mum and Nico, about what she might do after her years at Essex and how his job was going.

After some long hours, it was finally time to go eat and she would finally see who he would want her to meet. As they walked into the restaurant her heart stopped when she was to whom her father was walking. There you sat in a women's suit, with some makeup and heels. God, she hated the fact that she was attracted to you right now.

“Y/n, it's so lovely of you to meet us here,” her dad said as he hugged you, making her nearly gasp. You gave him a smile as you hugged him back.

“No problem, Henry!” you told him and again the blonde nearly gasped. You turned toward her and sent her a big smile. “Hey Leighton, it's nice to see you,” you said as you pulled out the chair for her. Henry did not tell you that he would bring Leighton tonight which made the whole thing kinda awkward. You actually liked her but she seemed to hate you.

She sent you a tight-lipped smile and sat down, you and Henry then joining. “So, it seems like you two already know each other,” Henry said, giving you both a big smile while his daughter rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, we do. But, just out of interest, how do YOU TWO know each other?” the girl who hated you asked, aggressively pointing between you and him.

“Oh well, after you came out your dad wanted to know what to do, and how to act. You know it can be hard for parents of gay kids, even when they accept their children for it. They never know what is too much and what is not enough” you started to explain but didn't get far.

“Can you maybe skip all this shit and just answer my question?” she snapped making her father furrow his brows.

“Yeah, of course. Since I am an LGBT advocate your dad asked me for help” You gave her a short nod when you finished your explanation.

“Why would you ask her dad? And why would you want me to meet her?” It wasn't hard to see that she was annoyed, by you, her dad and just life in general you guessed.

“Well, she's a great woman Leighton. She plays football, has a scholarship for it, she is great at math, she is part of the lgbtq and she is exactly your type” You wanted to disappear so bad right now and it seems like Leighton wanted the same thing. For you to disappear. Her eyes were wide and her brows raised as she stared at him with disbelief.

“Dad! I told you we’re not gonna talk about my dating life. Not ever. Got it? And especially her” well, that hurt. Henry gave her an unhappy look before giving you a sorry one. You only gave him a short nod to signal that it was alright.

“Leighton that’s enough! I’ll go to the restrooms real quick before we eat” he stood up and walked away. As soon as his back was turned towards you the blonde was on her phone.

“Look,” you started and pushed her phone down so she could look at you “I know that you hate me for some weird reason but your dad was really nice and asked me to come so I said yes. I didn’t know that you were coming alright? So how about you use some manners and act like you can at least stand being in a room with me huh?” She only picked up her phone again making you sigh. “I don’t get why they talked about you so nice in the women center” you mumbled out making her look up from her phone.

“What did you just say?” She couldn’t believe your audacity. Who did you think you are that you go and talk to her and about her like that? Especially mentioning her ex. God, she hated you. You were so annoying and she didn’t even know why.

“I said that I do not understand why they said that you were nice and shit. I was really happy when I heard that you were in my advanced math class, but you only acted like a bitch the whole damn time. You even do it when I visit Whit, and the only thing I ever said to you there was ‘hi’” you ranted, happy to finally say what you’ve been thinking of for so long. Luckily for you, Henry came back before the blonde could say anything else.

“So, did you guys decide what you want to eat?” He asked as he sat down.

That was one of the most exhausting dinners you ever had. And after hours, Leighton still kinda ignored you and Henry ordering his drink extremely weird you were finally out. “Are you sure you don’t want us to drive you back to college? It’s quite far” the man asked again making you chuckle.

“Yes Henry, thank you tho. I’ll walk, need a bit of fresh air and exercise” it was a lie. You didn’t really feel like walking but the thought of sitting in a car with Leighton was not even close to what you dreamed of, so walking seemed like the best idea.

And after a really long discussion with Henry, he finally let you go. “Wait, I think I will walk with her dad. Then you can make your way back home, it’s late already and I could use the fresh air too” you sighed internally but didn’t want to make this awkward in front of the older Murray.

You waited for them to say goodbye before making your way back to college. “Why?” You just asked after a few moments of walking as you just couldn’t keep your curiosity at bay anymore.

“Didn’t wanna discuss this whole thing with him” you chuckled at her answer, it was clear that she didn’t wanna talk so you just shut up and kept walking. At some point you looked over to see the blonde hugging herself, goosebumps covering her arms. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath before deciding what to do. Right now, you hated her as much as she hated you. Why did she have to be so endearing and cute while being a goddamn asshole at the same time?

“Here” you mumbled as you draped your jacket over her shoulders, making sure that it would stay.

“What the fuck? What the fuck am I supposed to do with your cheap ass jacket?” She asked, but her voice wasn’t as harsh as it usually was as she noticed the goosebumps now covering your arms.

“Get warm. Just accept it, it doesn’t mean that you have to like me or anything. Look, I’ll even fall back ok? You can walk in front of me so nobody realizes that we were somewhere together” you immediately slowed down and let her walk to get some distance but she stopped too.

“This is a bit much don’t you think? It will be even weirder when we do it like that”

“Why do you hate me? I’ve been nice to you, you hate me. I ignore you, you still hate me and try to bully me. Why? What did I do to you? I was really excited to meet you” you looked her straight in the eyes, this time you weren’t going to break it first.

“No particular reason” she shrugged but it was a lie, this time it was obvious. So you just kept staring at her, challenging her to go with her lie. “Fine, I just feel like you may be smarter and a bit more academically advanced than me which made me… I don’t know. I just don’t like it, and then you also have to be hot and trained, I mean even now I can see your damn abs” you couldn’t help but grin as you finally knew why she hated you.

“You know, if you really feel like I am smarter than you, then I can’t say anything else other than would happily tutor you” you joked, breaking out in laughter while Leighton hit your shoulder, an unamused look on her face. “Alright, I’m sorry. But I think the same thing about you, you’re extremely smart. Way smarter than people think you are and as if that wasn’t hot enough, you also look hot. Like damn. But I was so excited to meet you because I’ve been crushing on you since you came to one of our games” you smiled, this time it was a real smile.

“And… even after I treated you like shit, would you still be open to… you know?” She asked, her voice unsure.

“Otherwise you wouldn’t have my jacket right now. So, do you wanna go on a date?”

“You really still wanna go?”

“Yeah, I do”

“Then I would love to”

“Finally” you mumbled as you walked closer to her, one hand slowly going towards her waist. You moved slow enough for her to move away, but were more than happy when she stepped closer too. After she didn’t make any sign of discomfort you leaned in and pressed your lips to hers, kissing her softly.

“I should have stopped being a bitch way earlier” she mumbled before kissing you again, the kiss getting more passionate.

You walked her home, your hands brushing against each other every now and then making a warm feeling spread in both of your stomachs. “Alright, so we will go out tomorrow after math?” You confirmed, smiling when she gave you a nod. This time she leaned in first, kissing you again before giving you your jacket.

“I cannot believe you beat me by one point in this damn math game” Leighton complained on the way to the restaurant you were taking her. You chuckled as this had been going on for about 15 minutes.

“Well you said it yourself, i am smarter than you” you joked, petting her back to assure her that you were joking. By the time the blonde finally shut up about this game you had arrived.

“Go y/n, go Whitney” Leighton screamed as she stood up while watching you and her roommate play, her body clad in your soccer jacket. The sight making you smile every time. After the game was won you quickly ran to Leighton pressing a kiss to her lips. “You did So well” she praised.

Her roommates watched from the other side as you and her smiled at each other, a similar happiness adorning your faces. A happiness no ex of Leighton had ever put on her face.

You couldn’t wait to see Where this relationship would lead.

[maruwrites]

nonstop

Nationals Semifinals - Women’s Category

Kuroo Tetsurou prides himself on being observant.

"Mine!"

The scream echoes through the volleyball court. The sound travels around the space like a bullet, piercing through. He can feel it with the buzzing on his ears, the prickling of his arm hairs, the taut of his abdomen. There's very little room in this large gymnasium for anything other than your voice.

Right behind the court, Kuroo watches you as you spread your arms out, demanding room and stopping other players from trying to take the ball. The high ball gets caught in your expert hands, landing perfectly on the spiker’s hand near the net. Setting on the first touch is a risk. He can feel a tiny bead of sweat on his own forehead.

Kuroo Tetsurou loves volleyball.

He's also an excellent student, son and grandson, captain.

To him, all those things are real. Concrete.

He enjoys the game itself, the tactics, discussing new plays, trying to defeat the competition, improve his team. Being a captain is also important to him and he does it well, comforting the players when all they need are gentle words and confronting them when a firm stance is demanded. And he takes care of them.

He also likes studying. The comfort of providing right answers to tough questions proves in and of itself enough reward to someone who's so analytical, observant, smart. Opening up a book, gathering knowledge, putting that to the test—it's grounding and, god forbid, fun for him.

He's also someone one can rely on. The way his obaa-chan dotes on him, his dad prides himself on calling him "his son". An excellent friend too, with the way he watches over Kenma, always concerned with the younger boy—his eating and sleeping habits, his ability to communicate with the other players of the Nekoma volleyball team. He's the caring kind and, if you ask his obaa-chan, has always been this way, ever since he was a little kid.

So, it makes sense that there's little room for other things. Like, say, romance.

Kuroo Tetsurou is observant so, naturally, he knows.

He knows about the girls who swoon over him, whether they confess it on the hallway, with a letter or even an onigiri atop his desk every Friday for three months. The ones who don't say anything are only being slightly less obvious. The flitting of their eyes, blushing of their cheeks, twirling of their hands—it all points towards something that he's, by now, on his third year of high school, well aware of.

Kuroo supposes it makes sense. He is tall, with an athletic, muscly build, even if his body is more towards the lean side. He can't fix his hair for his life, but the more obvious girls have already pointed out to him that it's part of his charm. Plus, he is genuinely nice and tries to get along with everyone, shining his smirk to whomever crosses his path. So, yeah. It makes sense.

Kuroo Tetsurou, however, finds it all too abstract.

Maybe because he doesn't have the time, maybe because this romantic inclination has never hit him. Being a child of divorce might also factor in.

Still, there seems to be no substance to it, though.

Not that he doesn't get it, because he does. He thinks some of his suitors are pretty, there's a poster of a sake ad with a particularly busty lady in the boy's clubroom that catches his eye and he is, after all, high-schooler. But it remains too abstract.

The volleyball club, his almost spotless track record as a student, his home life. That's real, that's concrete.

The opposing team strikes and the ball hits Nekoma's blockers, flying to the end of the court. His eyes are now watching you, sprinting with all your might to catch the ball from the libero, sending in flying toward the ace.

Kuroo Tetsurou feels tethered.

This is also real. The way he can feel himself grounded, glued to the floor, like his own weight could be enough to open up a hole underneath him. The strap of his gym bag weighs on his shoulders, his hand griping it until it pales, his fingernails piercing the fabric. He can't tell if he's breathing too fast or not at all. His heart sits heavy on his chest, watching you.

Nekoma's match point has turned into a rally and god, this point belongs to this team. He's been watching them for a while now and knows how much they've grown, how they've improved into this well-oiled machine, the most important piece being, of course, you. The new setter.

With a philosophy that focuses on receiving and connecting, the women’s team had been suffering in the past two years when its former setter graduated high school. The backup only played volleyball for fun and as such, wouldn’t and couldn’t lead the team to Nationals. Now, it's only natural that Nekoma would rely so much on a player that managed to turn their last bad years around and bring them back to the basics: connection.

One of Nekoma's wing spiker strikes, but the ball gets stopped by the blockers on the other side. The libero digs, barely managing to catch it with an underarm pass, sending it high up and towards the other team’s side. It’s gonna be an out, Nekoma will lose this point, he thinks. Then, she shouts your name.

Kuroo holds his breath as he watches you run from the front of the court, under the net and onto the other side, your sneakers squeaking when you jump off the ground. You look like you're flying, both hands above making their way to the moving ball. You're untethered, he thinks, feeling himself get heavier. You make a pass to a spiker coming from the back, catching the opposing team by surprise, ball landing heavily on the ground, finally claiming this long rally and, with it, the match.

He closes his eyes and exhales, his grip going slack. When he opens them again, you're on the ground looking up, breathing heavily, clenching your firsts. Then you punch the court and let out a scream, being followed by your teammates as they pile on top of you, the backups running from the back of the court to celebrate with everyone.

Kuroo Tetsurou prides himself on being observant.

Yet a part of him feels like he's only now seeing things clearly.

hello everyone, tis been a while been thinking about coming back for some time now and i have a few kuroo fics i'm hoping to publish this year. bear with me, as i have three ideas toying around in my head lol

as always, any feedback is appreciated.

hope you enjoy and stick around for the rest

[thethirdromana]

Dayna's costumes, rated

It's been ages since I did a Blake's 7 costume rating post. Let's fix that!

(Previous editions: Avon, Servalan, Jenna, Blake)

Screengrabs from here (they prefer their images copied, not linked) and record of what Dayna wears when from here.

As seen in Aftermath and Powerplay.

What a strong opener. Dayna is channelling pure Amazon chic here (that is, the warriors, not the rainforest or the exploitative e-commence site). She could have fallen right out of Themyscira. I rather suspect that a flowy white asymmetric tunic is perhaps not the most practical outfit for romping around with a bow and arrow, but who cares, it looks fabulous. 8/10.

As seen in Aftermath and Children of Auron.

It's a perfectly fine jumpsuit in many ways (miraculous, really, that Dayna still looks good even in the world's worst lighting here) but I can't help but think how uncomfortable the bra situation must be, how annoying it must be to go to the loo. And coming straight after the Amazonian tunic, I am ever so worried that her left arm is cold. 3/10.

As seen in Volcano.

Here we see Dayna wearing one of those emergency tourist ponchos, but make it fashion, under which her baby pink romper suit appears to have been shrink-wrapped to her by someone who didn't remember to press all of the air bubbles out first. Everyone else is dressed in sensible fabrics but Dayna looks alarmingly flammable. 3/10.

As seen in Dawn of the Gods.

I struggle to know what to say about this one, because it's objectively not a bad outfit. It's a good colour, the cut is nice, it's flattering... but you know, if I turned up to work in this no one would bat an eyelid and that, frankly, is not what Blake's 7 costumes are for. Where's the drama, where are the absurd sleeves, where's the skintight leather? 6/10.

As seen in the Harvest of Kairos and Moloch.

What is it with 70s BBC sci-fi shows and wanting to dress their gorgeous female leads on a theme by Andy Pandy? I'm going to assume it's for some bizarre Freudian reason that's best not explored further. Doctor Who did it with Sarah Jane Smith, now Blake's 7 does it here with Dayna. Except in Dayna's case it's Andy Pandy plus a little bit of red bra showing at the ill-fitting neckline. Did no one have a safety pin to hand? It feels insulting to make a woman as beautiful as Josette Simon wear this. 0/10.

As seen in City at the Edge of the World.

Ruining my theory that maybe Dayna is just inclined to overheating in her left arm only, this time it's her right arm that has to be cold. This looks fabulous and swashbuckling from the tits up, but the weird buttoning around her waist isn't doing it for me. It looks as if she had a first crack at the outfit from Ultraworld (below) but only had five minutes with the dressing-up box. 5/10.

As seen in Children of Auron.

Taken on its own, this is a great outfit. I love that the costume team keep putting Josette Simon in these rich, deep colours. But I am starting to become uncomfortable with how Dayna keeps being dressed for a fully different climate from everyone else. I don't know if it's a race thing or an eye candy thing but it starts to feel like some kind of a thing, anyway. 8/10 for the outfit itself.

As seen in Rumours of Death.

It's particularly unfortunate that this screengrab includes one of Avon's better outfits, while Dayna looks like she's wearing a hospital shower curtain that's been through the wash too many times. Salami pink is a colour I like less the longer I look at it. And I can't help but think that the middle seam on that jumpsuit must be giving her a dreadful wedgie. 3/10.

As seen in Sarcophagus.

I am conflicted. On the one hand, I think women should get to wear sensible outfits, as Cally is modelling. It's not visible from the photo, but Dayna is also in strappy little sandals that by the end of a long day of fighting oppression would need to contain more blister plasters than feet. On the other hand, friends, I am a mere mortal bisexual woman, and I am not immune to the perfect framing of Josette Simon's magnificent breasts. So, with apologies, 9/10.

As seen in Ultraworld, Terminal, and Rescue.

Yes! I love this one! I adore how it's consistent with Dayna's fashion taste to date, I love the colours, I love that she actually gets two (2!) sleeves, and above all I love the little stripey detail at the wrist. And it actually looks comfortable to wear, for once. 10/10.

As seen in Death-Watch.

Banger after banger! Another great colour, more fabulous sleeves, and this one looks comfortable too. She even gets proper shoes. 9/10.

As seen in Rescue, Power, Traitor, Stardrive, Animals, and Headhunter.

Well, it was nice while it lasted. This isn't a fun outfit, this is a uniform - I'm thinking upmarket motorbike courier? I could see her whizzing between hospital with emergency blood supplies in this. In comparison with the usual Blake's 7 tendency to enormous sleeves or massive shoulders, it's also quite form-fitting, which makes Dayna look small. And she wears this for six episodes. 1/10.

As seen in Traitor.

It's cosplay day on the Liberator! Tarrant has come to work dressed as Avon and Dayna has come to work dressed as Blake. These are not looks that suit either of them. Brown isn't a great colour on Dayna, though I do enjoy that the Blakesque layers of quilted sleeves mean that a) she gets to take up a bit more space, costume-wise, and b) she must be toasty warm. 4/10.

As seen in Assassin, Games, Sand, Gold, Orbit, Warlord, and Blake.

If Dayna has to stick to one outfit for - count 'em - seven whole episodes - then there are worse outfits that it could be. I like how this is a little bit military, a little bit sci-fi, and a little bit sexy, which all feels very appropriate for Dayna. The wide shoulders mimicking epaulettes are a fun choice, I love the gold, but it looks practical too. I'd like this better if it was in a deeper purple since we know rich, deep colours really work on Dayna, but all in all, if you're going to wear one outfit for days on end, we've already seen that it could be a lot worse than this. 7/10.

[forestshadow-wolf]

Just real quick! Something not soapghost (sorry)

I was rewatching httyd 2 (one of my favorite movies btw)

And I remember the first time I watched it, when Stoic was singing to Valka, I hated when Gobber kept interrupting. I thought it was annoying, and didn't belong.

But watching that scene again and I actually kind of like it now. And to properly explain this I just want to put an image in your head.

So imagine this - you, a fresh-faced young viking, has grown up next to his best friend your entire life. He's been beside you through thick and thin, and has never once left your side. Now you yourself have nevr seen any lady that's caught your eye, but your best friend? Oh He's got his heart locked on one. He's quite the fella, has no shortage of women that he could wed. But no, he want the kind-hearted woman who refuses to harm a dragon.

You think maybe she's too soft for this life. She doesn't belong. But you're best friend loves her, and you're his best friend for a eason so you don't say anything.

At first you leave them alone, the waves of love that radiate from them are sickening. They can't keep themselves away from eachother for a second. So you let them be.

Imagine around this time that perhaps you realize lads catch your eye more than lasses do (this is canon btw, and the VA for gobber is also gay)

At some point, after a few moon cycles of your best friend and his lady being together, the three of you start hanging out. You realize this lady is quite nice, still too kind, but you can see why your friend likes her.

At some point you can't keep it in anymore, and confide in your friend that you won't be looking for a lass, but rather a lad. Your friend claps you on the back, and says he's with you always, and it's like a weight has lifted off your shoulders. But then you hear a noise behind you, and you whip around. Standing before you is your friend's lady, and you freeze, but she gives you a nice smile and says she won't say anything. She says the village won't think anything of it, but regardless she won't say anything.

A few moon cycles later and you really do like this lady now. She may not harm dragons, she may fight to save them, but she is just as fierce as any viking you've ever met. And through it all you're best friend and his lady are tag teaming you, trying to set you up with other lads.

These are your best friends, you couldn't imagine your life without them. You do everything together. They never left your side, even when you lost your leg. They've been with you through everything, and you them.

It's been years now. And your best friends are still just as in love now, as they were when they met, in fact they might be even more so. They're married now. They're still trying to set you up with a few guys. You have dinner every night at their house. You cook because like a perfect matching pair, neither of them can cook. And you all laugh and sing together, and you know that no matter what happens it'll all be okay as long as they're here.

They have a baby together, it's a wee little thing. The lady worries something's wrong with him, but your best friend says he's gonna be the greatest chief there ever was.

Then imagine one night there's an especially bad attack, you see your best friends' house catch fire, that's where the baby is, and quiet possibly the lady. You're too far to do anything. But your best friend isn't. He races to the house.

The next thing you know a dragon busts from the roof with the lady in its clutches. Your best friend bursts from the house, little bundle of furs in hand.

After thay day everything changed. It was the same just... less happy. Less kind. But it can be kind of okay with three out of four pieces.

You watch the little boy grow up. Your best friend he's happy, but he worries. He never sings anymore, that's sad. He won't put him in dragon classes because he's scared of losing him too.

Eventually you convince him to allow it. And it goes great until it doesn't. And your best friend disowns his own son for befriending the very beasts that took his lady, the boy's mother.

And then you see that very beast save your best friend's kid's life. And your with your best friend through all of that. Life and death, thick and thin.

And then imagine you find the lady! Or well the kid did. And all of the sudden, this light that died in your best friend's eyes lights up again. And then for the first time in over 2 decades you hear your best friend singing again. Just once. And it's been so long. And then you hear the lady! And now it's like everything is better, just like old times, and you can't help but sing along.

So there! Now you all know some (probably) useless knowledge :)

[allwormdiet]

Sentinel 9.3

Y'know, the irony here is that as I'm writing this post I've just started an online course with video lectures.

Solid bit of establishing characterization, an easy display of people's emotional ties and states.

Parahuman science must be so fucking hard to work with, honestly. Your subject matter is made up of a bunch of people with trauma-activated abilities that actively defy physics or other laws of reality, combination of psychology and whatever the hell you call studying outliers in how the fucking universe works.

Also glad people aren't just content to let the matter of parahuman origins end at "they just started happening." I know they haven't cracked the how or why of it in thirty years but I also know they crack it some time in the next two-ish years of canon, which should be interesting.

Also also, the inclination towards combat and conflict is... I know it's not going to be a long time until we talk about the "why" of that one either, but when we do I have notes for the designer(s) on these things

Oh, okay, so trigger events are talked about in a 100-level course, and Taylor straight up didn't know about them. Interesting? She really didn't give that much of a shit about cape stuff before stumbling into the life of a supervillain, huh.

Correlation between physical trauma -> physical powers and psychological trauma -> mental powers is interesting as well, although that leaves plenty of room for the edge cases. Glory Girl is actually the prime example there, too, brute and mover seem like the obvious tags but that doesn't cover the aura, which is I guess master? I'm less and less convinced that it was really just a foul in basketball that made her trigger tbh.

Also: I cannot even fucking imagine what the studies must be like about the New Wave families. Imagine writing your fucking thesis on the Dallon-Pelham Torment Nexus. Imagine being Victoria, Amy, Crystal, or Eric, and your family is being taught about in classes because of how "good" it is at inflicting superpowers on you. No I will not entertain the idea that either family is normal, parahuman psychology has so far shown zero signs of being healthy for anybody and it's not going to start holding back when it comes to child-rearing.

I'm not unsympathetic to what Clockblocker is stewing over, but the PRT can't let these kids dedicate every waking hour to crisis management; there will be a day where they're not dealing with a drowned city, and they might as well get ready for it now, and take time off from trudging through muck and mayhem as they do it.

Narrowing my eyes at the witch burning thing but I'm not going to harp on whatever the hell's going on there.

I think the gender divide makes sense but I don't know if it holds totally consistent in-story; the pre-Leviathan Wards and Protectorate ENE definitely leaned more male than female in its numbers, Merchants and ABB are two men to one woman, Empire is... eight men to seven women I think? I think as of right now the only teams we have that even have more women than men are Undersiders, Travelers, Faultline, and New Wave.

This is probably more math than I should be doing but whatever, don't use math in your story if you don't want someone checking it.

That's the same thing as Circus, right? Interesting that it's a known phenomenon.

He's doing his best, be nice.

Bunch of people are gonna be really annoyed when it turns out where powers come from because there's no way they could predict it from where they're standing.

Hwoof.

Oh, so that's Clockblocker's trigger event and power explained all at once, isn't it? I don't know if it's stated explicitly but "buying time in every way except for the one that matters the most to you" sounds like the kind of monkey's paw shit that powers love to do.

Now see, there's an interesting dilemma, isn't it. Family teams are all well and good (allegedly, given how parahumans work) but the moment one or more members die all of a sudden it's that much more fucked up for everybody. Even if the team persists past losing Manpower and Shielder there's no way they're gonna hold together after Amy & Vicky's Nightmare Extravaganza. One of the most notable independent teams in the setting with over a decade of experience, and in the span of a few months they're going from apex to nonexistence. I don't really have it in me to weep for the adults, see above suspicions about Torment Nexus, but I feel awful for the kids. Crystal is gonna be the last one standing until, what, Ward? That's gotta fuck you up good. Poor fucking girl.

And then the portraits. Hoo boy.

The portraits thing feels. I dunno. Do you have to put them right next to the other members? That feels like a really good way to get your underage parahumans even more fucked up about mortality if I'm being honest.

This is touching. Also fuck cancer.

Exactly what the Wards need, less open communication.

This is a hard conversation to have in a lot of ways. Weld is fumbling but he's trying, and the rest of the team needs to meet him in the middle for things to work out.

And. Ugh. I see an unfortunate side of myself in Clockblocker here. I've got an awful habit of going for low blows in an argument if I'm feeling low enough. I get mean, I say things just to make it hurt. I haven't done it in a long time, but it's still a thing I have done and can do if I don't watch it. With this at least it's an accident, or at least the extent of harm Clockblocker is doing is way beyond what he intended.

Clockblocker has the sense to fear Glory Girl in this moment, and she has the grace to forgive him.

And that's proof of who Clockblocker is when he's not at his worst. When he's not lashing out because of the active fucking wringer he's being shoved through, he's obviously thoughtful and kind; the lashing out is, uhh, understandable, but still a problem.

She's just a kid...

I talked about this with some folks on Discord, it's kind of remarkable to me that a guy with literal empathy powers couldn't hold a steady relationship with a single girl. I'm sure parahuman romance is its own special kind of fraught, but that's a little silly.

That said, it sounds like Gallant was good people.

This is very funny though

Oh hey, we have anger and futility coming back together again, haven't seen that for a minute.

Honestly I feel like the ones who try to be funny are usually the ones who've got so much shit going on in the background, anger is the least surprising thing to come from the team's designated funny one.

Good on Dennis for realizing how easy it is to use anger and how hard it can be to let go of it. Shit sucks.

Wuh oh.

This is gruesome, and a harbinger of things to come. Oh boy.

Fuck were the Travelers even doing here, anyhow?

Also crazy bold of the Wards to try and pick this fight. The Travelers have such outrageous firepower, I don't think there'd be much sense in picking this fight.

Skimming back through the fight, not a whole lot for me to say? I'm not super invested in it, I guess, it feels like there's exceptionally little actually riding on this fight. The Travelers want to fuck off and the Wards want to stop them from fucking off, the gallery fight had more meat than this.

"Oh thank god, a conflict I can throw myself into to feel useful and offset all the negative feelings that not fighting has left me stricken with."

That's not a criticism of Clockblocker by the way, if anything I'm just staring at the thing brought up earlier this chapter where most parahumans are driven into fighting each other and suspecting something of a connection.

Current Thoughts

I see some of my younger self in Clockblocker, which is ironic bc I actually had a superhero OC back in high school named Clockblock (his powers were a lot broader and his thing was more about struggling with overwhelming ennui in the face of his own significance in the grand scale of Time Itself). I hope he manages to get over that anger and hurt, but he's a parahuman, so I kinda doubt it.

Kid Win next, plus further plot developments.

[jams-sims]

I wrote a whole ass essay for Philza now Im gonna do it for Jaiden. In defense of the lack of content with Jaiden in it (real quick). Being an old goat of fandoms I can explain it (don't worry this won't take long and also it plays into her character's overarching narrative of a grieving mother.) Plain in simple women in Minecraft are notorious for getting shit on by the collective fandom. (Everyone has to take part in making sure that it stops happening.) She is mainly a YouTuber which makes a dissonance between mainly youtube viewers and Twitch watchers. So it's harder to catch her just because you have to go to another site. Also, she doesn't stream as often as everyone else. This makes for a lack of content, just because Jaiden is just a low-key person. This is the recipes for a lack of content BUT that does not excuse people who are being weird to her or think she's in the way of any ships etc etc.

BUT

Narratively speaking all of those things above make for perfect storytelling. (below the cut I go deep into Jaiden character I mean I go DEEP)

Even though Jaiden has the support of the whole island. At the end of the day- she goes back to that same house. Climbs to the very top and she fall asleep on the chair facing the sunset. This means that everyone else has moved on, especially Roier. She is forever stuck in that same place.

I can't be the only one who noticed every single stream, she logs out at the house. BY HERSELF (I think Roier built? Someone corrects me if I'm wrong.) It's so subtle that you wouldn't even notice it at first.

When asked where she was living by Etolies. She doesnt say her and roier house, she doesn't even say where bobby use to live. She specifically says " I am squating in Roier old house". She puts herself on the outskirts of what is further from the truth. Shes not squating in roier house im 100% sure Roier shares everything with her. It is her home too!

Next when it came to the marriage between cellbit and Roier. She was surprised that she was even invite. Its as if as soon as Bobby died all her friendships and relationships died with him. No matter how many people are around her she has this ice wall of isolation and deep lonely-ness.

Her grieiving is less theratical than Charlies its so sudtle that you can miss it. While Roier throw himself into drink and into a relationship. (Which has admitedly worked out in his favor. He gets a husband a new son, a world of love. Something that can lessen the sting of Bobbys death.)

Jaiden on the other hand threw herself into a a impossible task, "protect the eggs." She doesn't know anything about any group or fractions. That is her only wish and the federation saw that and picked her to use. She has nothing everyone else has seemingly moved on of course. They haven't stopped investigating but they death of Bobby mostly everyone has moved on. Besides Jaiden this is her driving force so no one will suffer like she did. (on a side note her and Charlie should team up for lore and to both work for the federations.)

ITS PREFECT! Oh are you greiving has everyone else seemingly moved on? Your friendly neighborhood bear has a book full of instructions. Don't think, I'll guide you.

Before it fell apart the federation was going to secretly use Jaiden and she was going to do everything alone. But because Jaiden can't keep a secret to save her life. This leads to everyone realizing how at risk Jaiden is at being used. They are all with her in an instant. But part of her character is now that she sides with the Fedration and no one sees it yet. While everyone else think they are the bad guy. Her story is shifting because cucurucho is there, because cucurucho is nice to her, because Jaiden is cucurucho favorite.

She is being drawn in whether she knows it or not to be om their side. Think of it this way-

Fit is team: Spy thats off the island

Cellbit and Crew are team: AntiFederation

Jaiden the one that is left alone is the perfect choice to slowly pull her onto the federation side. It's perfect! The self isolation, the want to connect but feeling like she can't. It would be so easy for someone to take advantage of that.

[missacidburn928]

It's a year old but here's some holiday spice for you all while I wait in the urgent care with my autistic son.

I Really Do Believe In You....

Steve Rogers × Bucky Barnes x Thor Odinson × POC Singer!Reader "Honey"

Let’s see if you believe in me.

The Avengers Holiday party. You are both a guest and part of the musical entertainment. Will you end up on the naughty or nice list?

You spot them as they enter the main ballroom. Your three strapping men, color coordinated and cutting intimidating frames in their suit choices. Thank the goddess you had a good hold on the mic as you waited for your cue to join Sy in singing White Christmas, or you might have literally swooned in front of this mass of party goers.

You start your verse as you watch them make their way over to the bar where the team, plus one Sharon Carter, have gathered. Thankfully tonight’s event is Jane Foster free, so it should be a good night with you, Sy and the Chanti’s house band entertaining Tony’s rich friends and employees before enjoying some much needed time with your men.

You can't help but feel festive in your short red dress, studded red fishnets and nude pumps. You’ve kept your makeup simple with a nude lip and a smokey eye. Your hair down and in its natural state. Sy made a comment when picking you up that you looked like Santa’s little Siren. Seems appropriate if you do say so yourself.

Per usual you notice Sharon being a bit too chummy with your Captain. The woman just can’t help herself. You know all about the “kiss” when they were trying to save your beloved Bucky. But according to Steve the reason it never went further was because there was no spark when their lips touched. And he tried giving her a chance, chalking the lack of spark up to the stress of the situation, but she was way too into his status and power. So he ended things before it made it any further than a couple dates and a subpar makeout session.

What is it with these prude ass women that hang around these strong ass people? Sharon, like Jane, thinks your quad is ridiculous and you don't need that many men. Especially when you added Steve in. 

“He should be upholding traditional values as he’s America's golden boy. Not flaunting such an alternative lifestyle. Hell if he was gay it would be easier than this bullshit. Why on Earth would you want to willingly share a woman with two other men. Not to mention one of those men is a God and the other a murderer.”

Let's not forget what she also stated in that little rant of hers, when she was unaware you could hear her perfectly clear from your spot in the common room. “I just don’t understand what he sees in her. Who stays in a band with someone they used to be fuck buddies with? It’s just tacky and sad. A man that powerful should be with someone who is only devoted to him and can boost his image, not damage it. ” 

I’ll show her tacky. Lord knows I'm certainly not above being petty. I’ve been behaving for far too long. Time to put these Siren skills to use. What good are they to have if you can’t fuck with uppity bitches using them.

Continue

[mamaestapa]

The Party

•pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

•series summary: : Y/n Hubbard, the younger sister of Cincinnati Bengals Defensive End Sam Hubbard, finds herself in a difficult situation after a steamy hookup with her brothers best friend, who just so happens to be the quarterback for the Bengals. In just nine months their lives will be changed forever. How will Y/n and Joe manage to to go through parenthood together? more so, how will Sam take the news he is going to be the uncle of his best friends baby?

•chapter summary: You attend the Bengals Christmas party and have a little too much fun. One thing leads to another and you find yourself in a steamy situation with the teams beloved quarterback…

•word count: IDK I think around 6k?

•warnings: SMUT (it’s actually kinda bad lol) unprotected sex, alcohol consumption, language, drunk people, another SMUT warning

series masterlist

——————————————————

december 17, 2022

pre-hookup

"I’ll be, switchin the positions for you."

"Cookin’ in kitchen and I’m in the bedroom"

You belted out the lyrics to Positions by Ariana Grande as you put dishes away and did some much needed cleaning up in your kitchen. As you put a coffee cup away on the rack, you looked at the digital clock that sat on your wall. You knew you’d need to stop cleaning soon.

The clock read 3:45

You sighed, grabbing the last plate out of the dishwasher and drying it off. You figured you should start getting ready for the party now so that Sam wouldn't have to worry about the two of you, well more like just you being "late" to Zac’s. You are the queen of being fashionably late, but don't let Sam fool you, he is too. You can't even begin to talk about the amount of times he's been late to family get togethers because his "outfit didn't look right" or he "didn't know what to do with his hair". You swear sometimes men can be a lot worse than women in the “being fashionably late” department, good lord.

After being satisfied with how the kitchen looked for now, you decided to head to your bathroom and start getting ready for the party. You live in a one bed, one bathroom apartment in Cincinnati, Ohio. You shared an apartment with Morgan Mead,!Logan Wilson’s wife, for a while, but she never re-signed her lease so she could go live with Logan . Which you completely understood, they did just get married during the offseason. Now, living with friends is amazing,bbut sometimes it's nice to have a space all to yourself.

You walked into your grey and pink themed room and connected your phone to the bluetooth speaker sitting on the bedside table. You clicked shuffle on your playlist titled "the no skip zone". You smiled as you heard the beginning tunes to Gimme More by Britney Spears. You were more than satisfied with the song selection, so you set your phone directly em next to the speaker. You walked over to your walk in closet on the other side of your bedroom and you began to look through your clothes. You were hoping to find the red dress you planned on wearing, but you couldn’t seem to find it. It was bright red in color and form fitting with a cutout in the middle, the straps crossing over your chest to show off your cleavage. You tossed some rompers to the side, your eye’s lighting up as you saw the signature bright red color of the dress.

"Ah ha!" you smiled triumphantly. "I found it."

You carefully pulled the red fabric off the hanger and made your way to the bathroom to change. After you slipped the skin tight dress on, you moved onto styling your hair and doing your makeup. You didn't do anything too crazy and over the top, since it’s only a work Christmas party afterall. You decided on giving yourself a simple blowout. It didn't take you too long to do you hair, as you’re basically a pro at styling your hair now. Hey, what can you say? You’re a girl who loves anything to do with beauty—especially hair and makeup. Speaking of makeup, you decided to go with a more natural look for the tonight. You put on your favorite light pink blush, some false lashes, a little bit of contour and highlight on your cheekbones, and last but not least, your favorite lip plumper to finish off the look. Once you finished your makeup, you decided to put your mint chapstick into your small clutch bag.

It is a Christmas party, so you know what that means? There will be mistletoe...and if there's mistletoe, that means there's bound to be some kissing tonight. So you have to keep your lips nice and soft, because you never know who you might snog under mistletoe.

You’re just kidding, of course.

Once you were satisfied with your appearance, you took a few selfies in the bathroom mirror and posted your favorite one to your Instagram story. You captioned it: “Merry Christmas ya filthy animals❤️" Home Alone was one of your favorite movies. You turned the bathroom light off and headed back to your bedroom to grab your favorite pair of black heels. You glanced at your phone to make sure you were good on time, which you were because Sam would be at your place in about ten minutes. Well, ten minutes if he's ready on time, which you highly doubt he is. You walked over to the body mirror in the corner of your room, taking in your appearance one last time and doing any last minute fixes to your hair, makeup, and outfit. As you grabbed your clutch bag from your bedside table, you heard a knock at your front door. Wow, Sam is actually on time? That’s a first. You thought to yourself.

"Coming!" you yelled out, quickly making your way to the door to let Sam in. You brushed a piece of hair out of your face, and opened the door. You were then greeted by the face of your brother.

"Hey Y/n, you ready?" he asked, putting his hands in his pockets. Sam was wearing khakis and a Black polo. Not his nicest attire, but he was definitely more dressed up than usual.

You smiled, "Yep! Just let me go grab my phone real quick, then we can go."

"Alright. Please hurry, sis." He said, chuckling sarcastically.

You rolled your eyes, giving him your best RBF, "Yeah because it's going to take me forever to find my phone." Shaking your head, you left to go grab your phone off of your nightstand, while also turning the bluetooth speaker off in the process. You looked in your body mirror one last before heading back out to the kitchen.

Sam tightly smiled, "You ready to go now? Or do you need to check yourself out one more time?”

"Sam, I swear,” you began, "if you don't shut up, I’m not going."

He laughed, "Yeah, whatever.“ He rolled his eyes, walking out of the apartment, with you following behind him.

After you were both out of the apartment, you locked the front door securely and but your key back in your wallet. You walked down the hall down a short flight of steps, and out the main doors to Sam’s car. He got in the drivers side, while you made your way to the passenger side. Once you both heard the click of your seatbelts, Sam pulled out of the parking space.

~time skip~

About fifteen minutes later, you pulled up to Zac’s house. Okay, screw house, it was more like a mansion.

“Can I take my acceptance back?” You asked, raising an eyebrow as you surveyed the front lawn of the Taylor residence.

Sam laughed, "Nope. The guys would be pissed if I didn't bring their favorite social media manager."

You rolled your eyes, "Okay Sam, whatever you say,” you smirked playfully, “We don't want any pissed off boys now do we?"

Sam just laughed and turned the car off. He looked in his rear view mirror and ran his hands through his short hair. After he was satisfied with how he looked, he unlocked the car doors and stepped out onto the pavement. You stepped out of the car right as he did, your heels clicking on the concrete drive way. You took in the outside of the house once again, your eyes going wide. It had been a while since you’ve been at Zac’s house. Since the last time you were here he had made many new outside renovations. It made you wonder how different the inside looked now. You followed Sam up a few stairs and into the house. As the door opened, the smell of sweat, alcohol, and the sound of music greeted the two of you.

"We’re here!" Sam yelled, waltzing into the house.

"Aye, what's up man?" Ja’Marr Chase said, walking up to Sam and pulling him into that “bro hug” that all men do.

Ja’Marr turned to you, smiling. "Well if it isn't my favorite Hubbard sibling? How you doin’ girl?"

You smiled, pulling Ja’Marr into a quick hug. "I’m good! How about you ‘Marr?”

He chuckled, "Can’t complain."

"Hey Y/n!" You heard someone yell. You looked to see who called your name.

You smiled widely, seeing another Bengals wide receiver, one of the sweetest guys you know, Tee Higgins.

"Tee!" you yelled, "running" over to him. It was more like a little shuffle/trot mix. You didn’t want to trip and fall in front of everybody, that would be so embarrassing.

Tee picked you up and twirled you around, making a giggle escape from your lips. Tee is your best friend from the team. Well, him and Ja’Marr of course. Tee however, has been a close friend of yours since your first day working with the Bengals. You had gotten lost on hour first game day at Paycor—which was still Paul Brown stadium at the time. It’s such a huge stadium, and you had never been there before, so it makes sense why you would get lost easily. Luckily, Tee had noticed that you were lost and he helped you find your way around the stadium. Since then, the two of you have been best friends.

Tee put you back down on the ground and pulled away, giggling as you asked, “How are you?"

He grinned, “I’m great! Better now that my best friend is here though."

"Awe, thanks Tee. I could say the same about you." you said with a smile.

"Of course. I gotta go talk to some other guys, but it was great seeing you, babe." Tee said, reaching out to softly touch your arm.

"Okay, sounds good. It was great seeing you too! I’ll see you later though, don't worry." You said, blowing him a playful kiss.

You and Tee shared these gestures often with each other. It was never in a 'flirtatious' way though, just friendly.

As Tee walked away from you, you looked around to see who else was here. Ja’Marr and Sam were over in a corner laughing, beers in their hands. Tee went to talk to a group of some defensive players. Tyler Boyd, Joe Mixon, and Logan Wilson were in another part of the room, laughing wildly about something. Your eyes scanned over to the open bar, where coach Zac Taylor stood, talking to few other players. He noticed you starting to walk in his direction, so he smiled and waved at you.

"Hey Y/n, glad you could make it!" He happily smiled, pulling you into a side hug.

You hugged back, smiling. "Hey coach, thanks for letting Sam bring me.”

He nodded, "Of course, it was no problem. It wouldn't be a party without you. Do you want a drink?"

"Sure!” you nodded. A playful smirk pulled at your lips as you said, “as long as you're the bartender. I’m not sure if I trust this guy." You chuckled, patting Evan McPherson on the back.

He chuckled, "Thanks Y/n, I wouldn't trust me either."

Zac laughed, "Yeah, honestly I wouldn't trust him either,” he pay Evan on the back, “just kidding Mcpherson, I love you man."

You chuckled to yourself. Either this is what Coach Taylor is actually like outside of the stress that comes with coaching an NFL team, or he's had a lot of booze.

"What can I get you Y/n?" Zac asked, placing his palms flat on the bar counter as his lips formed a straight line, awaiting your answer.

"Got any wine? I could use a couple glasses of red."

"On it, m'lady." he said, getting a wine glass down from the rack and filling it almost to the top. He handed you the glass, "there you go, enjoy."

You smiled, reaching for the glass, “Thanks coach."

You took a big swig of the bitter, red liquid. Hey, it's been a long week, and you could really use the wine. Maybe Sam was right, you really did need to let loose—and this party would be the perfect way to do that.

You turned to Zac, "Your house looks really nice by the way, the decorations look great!"

He grinned, putting his hands on his hip. "Thanks! Sarah and I had a fun time getting all of these up last minute."

Evan laughed, "Gosh coach, I didn't know you enjoyed putting Christmas decorations up."

Zac shrugged, "Hey, when your wife offers a good time between the sheets, you'll do anything."

Yours and Evans eyes widened at Zac’s words. You brought the wine glass back up to your lips, taking a another swig. Damn, I didn't think I would ever hear that come out of Zac Taylor’s mouth. You thought to yourself.

You let out a little laugh, "Oh lord...thanks again for the drink Zac, and for letting me come to the party, I appreciate it!"

He raised his beer bottle, which was probably his 6th one of the night already. “Any time, Miss. Hubbard. See you Monday!"

You waved, goodbye to both Zac and Evan. “See you monday! Bye Evan."

Evan waved, "See ya Y/n."

You took another sip of your wine, scanning the room once again. As you were looking around at the room full of football players, you made direct eye contact with the handsome quarterback of the team: Joe Burrow. Your breath hitched as you swallowed nervously. Every time you had any sort of interaction with Joe, the butterflies started to majorly flutter. There was just something about the tall, pale blue eyed, dirty blonde haired, kind soul of a quarterback he is that made your heart flutter. You’d never admit it out loud, but he really makes you weak in the knees. Which, by the way, would really bother Sam if he found out about the effect Joe Burrow has on you.

Sam and Joe are best friends. They have been friends since college when both of them met at Ohio State University. Even through Joe’s transfer to LSU the two still were inseparable. Their friendship is so strong that you think it’s safe to assume they see each other as brothers. That’s why you could never let Sam find out about your secret attraction to Joe.

You took another swig of your liquid courage, (which was already making you slightly tipsy) and made your way over to say hello to Joe. You greeted him with a soft smile. He smiled back, waving slightly at you.

"Hey Joe, how are you?" You asked once you got close enough to where he could clearly hear you over the commotion of the party.

Joe pulled you into a hug, leaning down slightly as his arms draped tightly over your waist. You snakes your arms around his neck.

"I’m pretty good, how about yourself?"

You slightly blushed at the contact. "I’m good too, thank you." you said, starting to get flustered. The two of you pulled away and you cringed at the feeling of your sweaty palms.

Joe raised an eyebrow at you, taking a swig of his beer. "So, Sam convinced you to come, huh?"

You chuckled, finishing off the rest of you wine. "Yeah, he uh, he did. It took a little convincing, but I’m glad I agreed to come."

Joe’s mouth quirked up in a small smirk, “I’m glad you did too,” after the words left his mouth he looked down, a shade of pink tinting his defined cheeks. Either Joe was nervous, or he was just warm. It was pretty hot in here, honestly…

"Hey,” Joe cleared his throat, causing you to snap out of your thoughts, “I could use another drink, what about you?" he asked. He must have noticed your empty wine glass that was in your hand.

You smiled, tucking your right side of your hair behind your ear. "Yeah, actually, I could."

Joe chuckled awkwardly, "Heh, me too. Shall we?" he asked, holding out his arm for you. You wrapped your arm in his as he lead you back to the open bar.

You and Joe are actually friends. Not as good of friends as you and Tee are, or even Ja’Marr, but you’re still great friends. You’ve known him since you were 17 years old from him and Sam being friends. Granted, you were never really close with him like Sam is, but you’ve still known him for a long time. Joe is also one of the players you barely ever get to see while you’re at work. Most of the time you’re taking pictures, videos, or collecting information from the receivers or the defensive players—not the quarterbacks. During a typical work day, you’re lucky to even interact with Joe at all. He’s usually busy conversing with coaches about plays, techniques, and ways he can be better. However, on the rare occasions that you do see him, they're some of the highlights of your day. Plus, you just think he's really sweet...and really hot too. But you have to keep things professional. Besides, Joe is probably unaware of any of your feelings towards him, which by the way there are none. Okay fine, maybe there's some slight feelings, but that's all. Deep down you’ve always had a little crush on Joe. But he's your brothers best friend, and for the sake of their friendship, you know you can't get between that.

You followed Joe over to the open bar to fill up your drinks. As you walked through the crowds of players, Joe kept his arm linked with yours the whole time. When the two of you neared the bar, you could see Coach Taylor behind the counter pouring more drinks. Once you reached the bar, Joe put his glass down, as you did the same with yours.

Zac looked up from the shot of whisky he was pouring for himself. He smiled, the look on his face making it obvious that he was very tipsy, “Ah, Joe. What can I get for you?"

"I’ll take another Mojito please, sir."

Zac snapped and pointed at Joe. "You got it, dude."

Okay he was definitely drunk now. You giggled at Zacs little gesture. Joe turned to you, chuckling as he asked, "what?"

You shook your head, "nothing..." You got on your tip toes to whisper in his ear. Even in heels Joe was still quite a few inches taller than you, “your coach is definitely going to be blackout drunk by the end of tonight.."

Joe let out a laugh, his eyes crinkling up as he smiled, “I wish I could say you're wrong, but..."

"WOO! Almost dropped that one, oh shit-." Zac yelped from behind the counter after he dropped a beer bottle onto the floor.

Joe pursed his lip, and looked away from the scene in front of him while you just grimaced. You both, however, were trying to hide your laughter. Zac turned back to you, a drunk smile on his face as he held out a beer bottle for Joe. Joe didn’t ask for a beer, but he took the drink from his coach anyways.

"There you go, big guy. Sorry about that!"

Joe grabbed the beer, "Thanks coach. Hey, uh, how many drinks have you had..?"

Zac scoffed, "Pfftt, like five or six beers? Maybe a couple shots of whiskey here and there..."

Your eyes widened, "Dang..."

Zac turned to you, just now acknowledging your presence, “Kate!"

"Y/n." you corrected him. You tried and your best to suppress a giggle from coming out of your mouth. Kate is the other social media for the Bengals.

"Y/n!” he corrected himself, “what can I get for you?"

"I’ll have another full glass of red and how about two tequila on the rocks please."

Zac winked, "Ah tequila. My type, and Burrows type of woman too."

Joe rubbed his neck awkwardly, a blush rising to his cheeks. "He,!he's just drunk,” he said as he gestured to his coach, “I don't know what he's saying. I don't even think he knows what he's saying."

You laughed, your cheeks growing red, “It’s alright Joe, don't worry." you paused before whisper yelling up to him, "And I agree. I don't think he knows what he's saying either.”

Joe chuckled and took a swig of his beer.

"Here you," Zac hiccuped, "Go. Red wine and tequila for the lady,” he hiccuped again. "geez that's going to get annoying really quick..." he said from under his breath.

Joe put his hand up in a waving motion, “Take it easy, okay coach?“

You waved goodbye to Zac and handed Joe one of the tequilas. "Merry Christmas." you said, smiling sweetly.

He grabbed the tequila, thanking you with a soft smile.

"BYE GUYS!” Zac yelled out, making your eyes widen, “don't get too drunk, or else there’s going to be hookups, and those hookups can sometimes make babies, and no buns need to go into any ovens, not in my house at least.." Zac said, slurring his words here and there as he spoke nonsense.

Joe grabbed your waist and led the two of you away from a rambling Coach Taylor. He led you into an empty corner in Zac’s large game room. As soon as you reached the room, the two of you burst into laughter.

"Oh my god, he just kept on going,” Joe laughed.

"BYE GUYS! don't get too drunk, or else there will be hookups!" you laughed, imitating a drunk Zac.

You and Joe were to a point where you were crying from all the laughing you were doing. Had the two of you been sober, you probably wouldn't be laughing that hard at the situation. But since your systems were full of alcohol, it was the funniest thing both of you have heard all damn day. You and Joe finished off your tequilas and other alcoholic beverages while you conversed about whatever your drunk minds thought of on the spot. After finishing off your wine, you let out an annoyed sigh, obviously very drunk now.

You looked up at Joe and bit your bottom lip. "Hey.”you said, a little tipsiness laced in your voice. Joe looked up at you, his blue eyes drooping slightly, “Yeah?"

You moved closer to him and grabbed his hand, "Let’s go dance..."

Joe smirked and put a muscular arm around your waist. "Alright babe, sounds good to me."

You were way too drunk to even register that Joe had called you babe. Honestly, if anything, his actions and words just made you horny. Some people are sad drunks, crazy drunks, angry drunks, but you? You’re a horny and bubbly drunk. Hopefully Joe hasn't noticed the horny part of it yet...but you know he's definitely noticed the bubbly drunk side of you. You led Joe out to the middle of Zac’s living room. A bunch of the guys were crazily dancing with each other and the plus ones they brought. You looked around, seeing that Sam was no where in sight. As soon as you stopped in a spot for you and Joe to dance, the song No Hands by Waka Flocka started playing.

You jumped excitedly, “I love this song!”

As the lyrics started, a wave of drunken confidence hit you. You got close up to Joe and started grinding on him as the two of you threw your hands up in the air. Joe bit his lip, putting his hands gently on your waist as you grinded along to the beat. As you continued dancing all over Joe, you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. he threw his head back slightly, groaning. "Fuck..."

You bit your lip and moved yourself off him, but still continuing to dance. You started to sway your hips, and of course shake some ass to get him even more hot and bothered— which totally worked. You glanced around the room, making sure no one, especially Sam, could see you grinding on their beloved quarterback. You knew if anyone saw, you would never hear the end of it. Plus, you could lose your job for being unprofessional. But let’s face it, you shouldn't be too worried about that because even Zac Taylor was getting down to the music too. You soon noticed that everyone was too drunk and too focused on doing their own thing to even notice you and Joe, or even anyone else for that matter. You continued to do my your thing, your own thing being grinding on Joe.

The song changed to The Way I Are by Timbaland. Joe had the biggest smirk on his face, his breathing growing heavy as he watched you continue to work your magic on the “dance floor”.

"Oh god dayum!" you heard Ja’Marr yell as he approached you and Joe. Your movements against Joe came to a halt. You started laughing as Ja’Marr wiggled his eyebrows at you. You just laughed as Ja’Marr walked away to leave you and Joe alone. As the song came to an end, Joe pulled you out of the crowd of his teammates and led you to a less crowded place. He leaned down and moved your hair away from your ear.

"We need to talk. What do you say we get out of here, and go somewhere more private...please?"

You giggled. Of course he added please to the end. Even when Joe was drunk, and very much turned on he was still polite.

You looked up at him, smirking slightly. "Sure. My place or yours?"

He wrapped an arm around your waist, leaning down. His hot breath hit tickled your neck as he spoke, “Mine works. I live just down the road and...” he glanced down, “the sooner we take care of this issue the better.”

Your breath hitched as shivers went down your spine. You are definitely getting lucky tonight…

You glanced up at Joe. His chiseled jaw was clenched and his baby blues full of lust. You took your gaze away from his jawline when you noticed what was above the two of you, “Hey...look up."

Joe furrowed his brows. "Huh?"

You pointed up at the doorway. "Mistletoe," he smiled, "you know what that means?"

"I don't think so, the alcohol is really clouding my knowledge.." you joked. Of course you knew what mistletoe meant. However, you weren’t wrong about the alcohol clouding your brain, that part was very true.

Joe reached out and gently cupped your cheek, “Then why don't I just remind you?"

You pulled your head back, “Hold up, are we about to kiss right now?" you asked, a sly smile plastered on your face. You were so drunk right now…

A smile tugged at Joe’s pink lips. He leaned down, and captured your lips in a kiss. You were taken aback at first, but you of course kissed back. This is just the alcohol talking. You remind yourself. But oh did it feel amazing to be kissing the Joe Burrow. You and Joe pulled away, both of our breaths were heavy. He leaned down, his veiny hand ran up your hip and torso before it settled on the side of your left ribcage. He brought his lips to your ear.

"Stay here, I’ll be right back..." he purred.

You shivered from the sudden wave of arousal that took over your body. You involuntarily bit your lip before saying, “Joe, please hurry. I don't know how much longer I can wait."

He winked, "You and me both, sweets."

With that, he walked out of your sight. You assumed he went to say goodbye to coaches and his teammates, and of course, thank Zac for putting the party together. You should've said your goodbyes too, but your mind was too occupied on other issues anyways. You heard your phone ding. Looking down at the screen, you saw that you received a text from Sam.

Sam- Hey Y/n. I thought I’d let you know I just left Zac’s. Emma called and said she wanted to see me...😏

You rolled your eyes at your brothers text. Snickering at his message. You read the rest:

Sam- Anyways, thanks for coming tonight. I’m assuming you're having a great time since I couldn't find you before I left lol. Don’t party too hard Y/n/n, the hangovers after Zac’s parties are never fun. Also, I’m sure Tee or Ja’Marr will be happy to take you home when it's over, but if you need me to come get you, just let me know.

You smiled and replied back to his text.

You- Hey Sammy! Thanks for letting me know, have fun with Em😉 but yeah, I’m having a great time. Thank you again for convincing me to come. This party is a BLAST, like seriously. i got the ride thing covered, but thank you! see ya monday Sam:)

You hit send and re-read the message. You did sound a little drunk, so you decided to send another text to him.

You-also, i'm like SUPERR drunk so like if my messages come off a little weird, you know why lolol🤪

After hitting send again, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist. You jumped at the contact, but relaxed once you realized it was just Joe.

"You scared me!"

Joe smirked, "Oh really? Didn’t notice."

You giggled as you leaned against his hard chest. You could feel the alcohol really hitting my system now. Tequila always makes you super drunk, it never fails.

Joe cleared his throat, "I said my goodbyes to everyone, and told them you left with Sam, soooo..." he trailed off, "I’m ready whenever you are, sweetheart.”

"Mmm," you hummed, "Joe, you have no idea what you calling me sweetheart is doing to me right now...I’m so ready to get out of here."

He scooped you up in his arms and rested his forehead against yours. "you and me both...sweetheart."

You threw your head back, letting our a groan as Joe chuckled in amusement. Oh how his drunken state absolutely loved seeing the effect he has on you.

"Awe, don't do that yet,” he whispered in your ear, “save some for the bedroom."

You bit your lip and jumped out of his arms. You ran over to the front door, quickly opening it. You and Joe quickly got out of the house and made your way down the steps. As you left, you could hear the booming vibration of the loud music from outside the Taylor’s house. Grabbing your hand, Joe quickly led You to his benz. He opened the passenger door for you.

"After you,m'lady." He said, gesturing for you to get in.

You curtsied, "Thank you, sir."

Oh you both were so drunk…

You quickly sat down on the seat, immediately feeling wetness beneath you. You jumped slightly at the feeling between your thighs as Joe got in his seat and buckled his seatbelt. After pulling out of Zac’s driveway, Joe rested his hand on your upper thigh, trailing a finger up your thigh and under your dress, starting to tease you.

You let out a moan, already looking forward to the events that would be coming so soon.

Joe glanced at you, "Just you wait, in five minutes, i'll be doing a lot more than that."

~time skip~

"Jump." Joe said huskily as soon as the two of you walked in through his front door. You did as he said, jumping up so you were straddling his hips. His hands roamed your back as the two of you made out, passionately. Every once in a while you’d pull away, both of you leaving a trail of hickeys down one another's neck.

You moaned as he kissed that sweet spot on your neck. Joe gently put you down on the ground for a second, before picking you up bridal style. He walked up the flight of stairs so you could continue in the bedroom. As he carried you into the bedroom, a few articles of clothing had already made their way off of the two of you. His blazer was one, while your panties, well those made their way off your body a long time ago. Joe pushed you into the doorway, your bodies moving in sync as you made your way to his bed. The two of you hastily undressed eachother, urgency evident in your touches as there was no time for foreplay. You were both so impatient to get the fun started. You ripped Joes dress shirt off his broad, but lanky build. Your eyes trailed down his body, taking in his firm chest and muscular biceps with veins traveling down each arm. Joe wasn’t exactly ripped, but his abdomen was toned and his hips were a wonderful sight, just like those bulging thighs. Joe was absolutely perfect in your eyes.

As you took in his appearance, he began to slowly unzip your dress. Teasing you as he grazed his long fingers along the skin of your bare back. You hung your head, trying to suppress a moan from escaping from your pursed lips. Joe pulled the dress down your body, leaving you in just a strapless, red-laced bralette—which Joe had unclipped in the process of taking your dress off. Realizing that you didn't have any undergarments on anymore, your hands instinctively wrapped around your body. Joe’s expression softened as he saw you try to cover yourself from him.

"Oh Y/n,” he smiled softly, “there no need to hide from me, sweetheart. You are perfect." he cooed, pushing you gently down onto the bed and hovering his larger frame over you. You blushed, feeling so vulnerable, yet so good at the same time. Joe had a way with his words. He could be so sweet and humble one minute, but so dirty and dripping with confidence the next. What a man…

Joe gently moved your arms away from your body, taking in your figure beneath him. He sucked in a breath before he began to leave a trail of kisses down your body. Every time his soft lips came into contact with your smooth skin, it sent a wave of shivers down your entire body. As he kissed about every inch of your body, you scratched at his back, moaning with pleasure anytime he hit that sweet spot.

"Mmm..." You breathed out. Joe’s head made its way down to your area. He started to kiss your inner thigh, making sure he teased you just enough before coming up and to kiss your lips instead. His tongue begged for entrance and fought for dominance against yours. Of course, he ultimately "won" that fight. Joe pulled his pants down in one swift motion, leaving him in just his underwear. A very evident bulge had formed. You filled nervously as this all became clear to you. You are about to hook up with your brothers best friend. You’re OK Y/n. You can do this. You can do him. Just breathe. It’s not like this means anything to either of you. You’re both super drunk that you don’t even realize what you’re doing…you mentally remind yourself. There was no talking yourself out of this one, especially with the current state you’re in. It’s clear that you and Joe both want this.

Joe pulled his underwear down and threw it to the floor beside him, leaving him in nothing. Absolutely nothing at all. Your breath hitched as you eyed his cock, eyes growing darker with lust. They don’t call him “Big Dick Joe” for nothing…

Joe got back on the bed, hovering over you as he got ready to thrust himself into you.

"are you ready?" he asked, making sure you were comfortable. Even though Joe spoke in a soft tone, you could tell from his lustful eyes that he was more than ready to take you right there on his bed.

“Yes,” you nodded, “Please Joe, I need you inside of me.."you whined, barely able to keep your words from coming out in a moan. Joe smirked and grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he pushed you up against the headboard of his bed. He lined himself up with your entrance, thrusting into you repeatedly. He buried his face in your neck as you threw your head back, whimpering from the pleasure you were feeling from Joe’s rough movements. The sounds of Joe’s grunts and your whimpers filled the room, along with the sound of skin hitting skin.

“You feel so good,” Joe grunted, “Gonna make you cum so hard you won’t be able to walk.” He all but groaned out as his thrusts picked up in pace, causing your eyes rolled to the back of your head in pleasure. You threw your head back as complete bliss took over you. You arched your back and moaned like there was no tomorrow as the two of you reached your climax at the same time.

There’s no going back now…

hey loves!!

this chapter was so long omg lol. i’m already having so much fun re-writing this series! i forgot a lot of what i wrote, so it’s so much fun going back and seeing all the stuff i forgot i wrote

i apologize for the bad smut btw, i tried lol. i feel like i just can’t write it very well, but i wanted to include it for this story. if it’s cringy just LOOK AWAY and keep scrolling lmao

i hope you’re all enjoying this story so far! it’s different from welcome to the jungle, that’s for sure. but i still think you will all enjoy this one ;)

as always, thank you for reading!🤍

tags: @dandelionwrites8 @joeburreauxsworld @theflawedwriter @mrsshiesty @ann288 @ijustcrypretty @theoneandonlyfanz @wickedfun9 @venus-b @hummusxx @stainednailpolishremover @a-moment-captured @joyfulfrienddonkeybanana @alternativemadchen @erinmartin1987 @sirlewisworld @kkrenae @unhingedfangirl @sublimemusic-rebel @meameagirl @emherb10