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tojisun · 2 days

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Poor poor hockey! Simon :(

he lost and now the only thing to make him feel better is a good bj

this made me twitch so here u are my love !!!

!! comfort/smut - minors dni; hockey au; praises (in a tender way and but also in a kink way); D/s-ish; some semblance of plot ig // 2.4k words (LMAO)

the horn blows, marking the end of the game and, with that, the end of spec gru’s season.

it was heartbreaking to watch the way the boys' bodies slump, their loss descending onto them like heavy rain. the arena shakes, screams from the opposing team's fans piercing your ears, but you can't blame them, really—they won on home ice, against the leviathan of the league. it is a tremendous win for them, and a devastating loss for your side.

you feel your hand getting squeezed and you turn, looking at johnny's fiancee, seeing the way her own face is crumpled in her sadness.

"i guess that's that, huh?" she says, comforting, her voice a quiet whisper that was almost devoured by the loud cheers.

sometimes you forget that she's an athlete too; that she feels things a lot more intense than you do because she understands the grapple. the desperation. the way how everything you give and everything you put out is, at the end, not enough.

you sniffle, holding her hand tighter.

"i'm so proud of 'em," you say wetly, unable to compartmentalize your grief.

she laughs, the sound of it so empty of any humour but not any less kind.

“i am too.”

you both turn your gazes back to the rink and watch the teams shake hands with each other, the players finally amiable like they hadn’t just been tussling on ice, all sparked by the sharp tension that buzzed throughout their play.

you watch as simon takes a lap, patting the backs of his team members with his lips pursed, but otherwise he is put together. and yet here you are, shaking, lips wobbling, nose twitching because you are trying your best not to cry. it isn’t like you were the one who lost so you wonder why your heart twinges with so much pain; why is it that you are the one holding back the tears?

simon turns to the crowd, roving his eyes past bodies, until they finally lock on you. his lips twitch into a smile; you give him what you hope is a big one—the type of smile that will let him know how in awe you are of him, win or not.

they skate away and you all shuffle out, preparing for the flight back home.

it was expected for the players to fly back home together—a semblance of normalcy even amidst the staggering defeat. it was their last attempt at showing sportsmanship; at showing the hounding media that despite the abrupt end of their season, they remained close-knit.

simon understands it, of course. it was a media play, one that contends with the politics of the league, but it was difficult to act impartially, especially when they were making their way back, empty-handed, from the home ice of the team that had defeated them. it was difficult to not show the turmoil in their hearts, but they all managed to hold their heads up high during the exit and that was that.

they didn’t talk about it much, avoiding that last game as best as they could until the briefing, but hunger thrums in their jowls—no one was satisfied with being the second best.

the promise of a better next season hung above them, but it is still so unreachable.

simon feels angrier than usual, unable to stop himself from taking this loss personally. like what costed them their win were only his shortcomings; like this defeat was his sole failure because he did promise to lead his team on ice, with price unable to stand as their official captain during the games. he had promised to score the most, after all, and had promised to keep the opposing puck out of price’s net, but he failed in both and, well, here they are.

back home, anguished. defeated.

he–

simon's phone rings, a quiet trill that echoes in the empty locker room.

he shoots awake from the swirl of his thoughts, sluggish as he pulls it out of his bag. he expected it to be laswell or keller, or maybe their coach, but simon feels his world tilt when he sees your name flashing on his screen. and just like that, like he wasn’t even drowning in his self-doubt and self-hatred, simon feels like he can breathe again.

he feels lighter, his anguish seeping out of his pores, leaving him with nothing but his flesh and his heart and his love.

simon picks up the call, hears your voice, then he is up and running back home.

there is a sense of urgency in the way he finds you, his cold body folding into the warm touch of your own. you gasped out his name, surprised at how fast you have him back in your arms after a whole season of flying and leaving and pursuing his chance at the cup—

“i’m home, petal,” simon murmurs, his voice deep and beautiful and longing, and you giggle, your eyes watering, before you nuzzle into his chest.

he breathes you in, the faint smell of ozone and rain and something distinctly flowery fills his nose, and somehow this is what grounds him, his blood spiking as desire and need fill him up instead.

and it trickles into him like wafting smoke—soft, gentle, cascading like a warm kiss. it is still intense, hungry, but it is tender. quiet. like everything about simon’s buzzed energy had transformed into this careful folding. the anger, the desperation, all of it snuffed out for a vulnerable moment.

“baby,” you begin, voice muffled from where your head is still pressed on his chest. “love, you did so well.”

he shakes, his words failing him now.

you pull back just enough and he sees the glazed look in your eyes as you stare up at him, your lips curled in your smile. “i’m so proud of you, si.”

his heart stutters inside the cages of his ribs, jumping, before it lodges itself in his throat.

you giggle at his wordless tremors and press close again, your body melting onto his again, before you tip your head back to his chest but this time, instead of a nuzzle, you greet his beating heart with a kiss. one that is so light he barely feels it from his shirt, but simon feels so shaken.

he feels so raw.

you are holding him like he is the best thing in this world. like all his bulk and his size and his anger is still worth this softness.

“i need you,” he croaks out, unable to stop the way his feelings bloat and rage in the pit of his stomach.

“you have all of me,” you reply, breathless, your eyes still blown open, wide and full of wonder. then they shift, turning sharper, gaining edge; still careful, coaxing, but overwhelming. “tell me, my love. tell me how you need me.”

“fuck,” simon rasps out, feeling like he’s running out of air. his fingers twitch, digging deep into your skin, feeling it mould under his touch.

he’s missed this, alright. he’s—

“mouth,” he finally manages to bite out. “wan’ feel your mouth, love.”

“okay,” you croon, kissing his pec again. “sit f’me?”

simon doesn’t even have it in him to feel embarrassed about the way he falls to his ass on the plush mattress, bouncing a little bit because of the force, before he spreads his legs open, so, so desperate.

you have your bottom lip trapped between your teeth, canines dimpling the flesh, and simon feels like he is burning from the inside; doused with the fires of need, spark untamable, licking up, up, up.

“come on, firelily,” he rumbles, needy. “c’mere an’ kiss me.”

you huff, fond, and fall to your knees, scooting close to him.

it was silent as you fumble with his sweats, tugging at the drawstring and grumbling when the hem gets snugged on his hips. simon chuckles, pushing your hair out of your face before he juts up just enough to give you room to slide his sweats and his boxers down.

the cool air makes him tremble and you murmur something. it was so faint that he doesn’t get to catch what it was, but his curiosity sizzles at the sight of you licking your palm, shyly with how you refuse to meet his eyes. he almost teases you, his cheeks round with giddiness, but then you wrapped your fist around his half-chub, and his sanity is razed.

simon hisses, eyes fluttering close at the warm curl of pleasure.

jesus. he’s missed the feeling of this; your hand is softer, more supple, around his cock. it was so different from when it was his own fist rubbing himself, beating at his angrily flushed cock with desperation only for his peak to tip over mutedly, and not enough to truly satiate his hunger.

but this? fuck.

simon doesn’t even realize he’s whimpering, his head thrown back at the curious pace of your hand, not really jerking him off but mapping along his veins almost in quiet awe.

“‘m not gon’ last long if you–” he gasps at a particular twist. “if you keep doing that.”

“oh, no we can’t have that,” you tease, chuckling, and simon’s reply builds on the tip of his tongue, cheeky, but then you’re already moving, your back folding, your breath hitting his sensitive head.

his thighs tense in his anticipation, his stomach locking. you flit your eyes up at him, pupils blown wide in your own ragged need, before he jerks at the feeling of your tongue pressing on the underside of his cock, licking up, and teasing his leaking slit.

simon moans, guttural, his voice caught on the back of his throat. he drops his hands to his sides, fisting at the sheets as you keep licking, teasing his slit and tracing his veins, lapping at his cock so messily.

if he didn’t know any better, he’d think that you’re inexperienced; all sloppy and curious, like you’re attempting things you’ve probably seen in porn, but then you close the ring of your mouth around the bulbed head, suckling like it’s a goddamn loli, while your hands drop to squeeze his balls, and simon’s gone.

“shit-!” he gasps out, battling air like he’s back on ice.

he bucks his hips forward, unable to help himself, and only stops at the warbled sound of your surprise.

“fuck,” he hisses, hand coming up to swipe the hair from your sweaty face. “i’m sorry, darlin’. didn’t mean t’force it down. s’just that y’r so good.”

he keeps petting your cheek, overtaken by his desires and no longer able to stop the string of words trickling from his heart. “missed you lots, swee’art. missed you so much—take me deeper?”

your cheeks hollow as you hum, so obedient for him.

“yeah, jus’ like that,” simon trills, his chest rising as he breathes in deeply. his stomach flexes at the feeling of you swallowing more of him, taking his thickness past your gummy cheeks and into the wet vice of your throat. “shit, baby. christ. y’feel so fuckin’ good ‘round me. so perfect an’ wet.” he giggles, drunken in his bliss. “such a messy baby y’are. so sloppy. y’wanted my cock that much, din’ya? so hungry f’r it.”

there’s a wet slurp when he hits the deepest you could allow him, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull. you choke, your body lurching in protest, but simon is at the throes of his pleasure and his rational thoughts are devoured by his gluttonous need, and simon knows it is wrong to ask but—

“hold it in? can you do that f’r me, love?” he croons, his voice curling in his euphoria.

he knows this is playing dirty; to use your weakness—the deep rumble of his voice and the gentle beckoning—to make you weak, malleable. to make you just as desperate for him because he knows all you want to do is to be good for him even when it has you straining, your eyes filling up with tears. he knows it is wrong, but he can’t help it. he wants you this way.

and you want him like this too—his desires sharpening, shaping him to be mean and dangerous. his thickness fills you up, pressing at the roof of your mouth and trapping your tongue underneath the weight of his flesh. your larynx is stretched out, stuffed, but simon is looking at you so adoringly, his own ecstasy so dizzying, so addicting.

you nod, sniffling, finally replying to his question because you want him to feel good. because you want him to lose his restraints when it comes to you.

because you want him to use you until he’s truly relaxed, his body exhausted with something beyond his heartbreak. with something beyond his loss.

simon’s lips wobble like he knows what it is you are thinking of.

he fucks your throat that way, gentle and sometimes slipping into something so mean it makes you squirm on your knees, the muted throb of your strained legs finally turning into staticky numbness, but you don’t complain, your jaw relaxed as you let simon use you.

he growls out his praises, his words chewed on in his peaking euphoria—nose flaring, cheeks flushed red—or lilting as he teases you—pulling his cock out enough that all that is left is the head, and you whine because you want him in, please simon. wan’ more please—

“gonna cum, sweetheart. gonna cum—fuck!—gonna—”

simon throws his head back, a blinding white filling his eyes and his ears ringing. his body trembles at the intensity of his orgasm, immense pleasure overtaking every synapses in his body until all that he feels is the feverish wrap of your mouth on him.

he flicks his eyes down, panting, and twitches at the sight you make—jaw slack, eyes faraway, skin shining with a thin sheen of sweat.

you look, fuck, you look angelic like this.

simon cups your cheek, his thumb swiping just underneath your teary eye. you focus back to him slowly, blinking owlishly.

“shh,” he croons, gentle. “i’ve got you, darlin’. i’ve got you.”

a whine builds from the back of your throat and simon hums, responding to your wordless babble, trying to ease you back down from the fog. he continues to hold you even amidst his oversensitivity, waiting so patiently so he can take care of you now.

yeah, he thinks to himself as he continues to return your unblinking stare. i’m glad to be back home.

hope this was good :'33 once again pls dont judge me for my blatant self-indulgence hhHHHHH oki oki mwah!!

#anon #hockey au #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley #simon riley #hockey player simon #cod smut #ask #suns

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inkdrinkerworld · 14 hours

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can i request a girl flirting with spencer but he is too oblivious to understand she is flirting (bc of course he doesnt) so he keeps talking to her, and reader (they are dating) is FURIOUS and he is sooooo confused. i think it could be funny 🤭

post prison!spencer x sunshine!reader are out with the team when spencer gets sidetracked, you don't like that he is. 1.2k

You’re frowning into your long island iced tea. The entire team can see it and Luke is itching to make a comment. He also knows that despite your sunny disposition you might kick his shin under the table.

“You could always just go bring him back here,” Matt says, sipping his beer as he watches you burn holes into Spencer’s back.

You’re not jealous, no matter what any of them might imply.

“He’s a big boy. If he doesn’t want her flirting with him, he can just leave.”

JJ laughs into her drink, Penelope rolls her eyes as she chews her cherry and Emily shakes her head at you.

Spencer likely will remove himself from the girl if he doesn’t want to be flirted with- but since he’s been there for the last twenty minutes you suspect he isn’t as into you as they’ve all suggested.

It was silly of you to let your heart be captured by a man fresh out of prison you suppose. Your frown worsens at your thoughts, Spencer isn’t the ‘lead a girl on,’ type. Still you feel the hot and heavy sting of jealousy and something bitter settle in your chest.

“He’s still a bit awkward about this,” You roll your eyes this time. They all talk of Spencer like he’s a thirty three year old virgin. He isn’t. You know he isn’t because Penelope had informed you that he’d been in serious relationships before.

Not that you’d wanted to know.

When Spencer comes back, you’re itching for a game of cards and the rest of your team is itching for some sort of reaction from either of you.

It’s been clear over the ten months you’ve been working at the BAU, that you and Spencer have begun to orbit each other. You’re like Pluto and Charon. You bring each other breakfast, make each other’s coffee, you were even almost halfway in his lap on the jet the other day ‘doing crosswords.’ You really were doing crosswords.

They suspect you’re both just too oblivious (you) and frightened (Spencer) to do anything about the feelings everyone can see you have.

“Sorry I took so long,” though he says the words loud enough for the entire group to hear, his eyes are on you.

“Did you at least get her number?” You kick Luke in the shin then, earning a smirk from the man across from you. Maybe if you put salt in his protein powder he’ll relent.

“What?” Spencer asks, sipping his rum and coke. He brushes a curl of hair from his forehead, tucking it behind his ear.

You reach into your bag and pull out your sparkly deck of cards and shuffle them. “Oh are we doing readings?” Penelope asks, you don’t trust the peachiness of her tone.

“The girl from the bar.” Matt clarifies for Spencer, whose eyebrows shoot up to his hairline.

“Why would I get her number?” JJ looks at you with a, ‘do you see what we’re saying,’ look but you only shake your head.

You don’t care if Spencer did get her number or if he’d been flirting back with her. You’re not dating. You don’t care. At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

“She was flirting with you man.” Luke says and Spencer shrugs, leaning into you as Penelope takes the cards from you. They’re only playing cards, but she’s been trying to get you to read them as well as she reads tarot.

“Are you okay?” Spencer whispers in favour of a reply to Luke, eyebrows knitted together when you shrug him out of your space.

“Fine.” Emily chuckles which only worsens Spencer’s frown.

“Hey, what about this song?” JJ says, the entire group dispersing. Penelope is the last to go, leaving the ace of hearts face up on the table.

“What’s wrong?” Spencer asks, hand reaching for your chin. You shake your head from his hand. Spencer feels burned.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine. I’m just enjoying a night out with my friends.” You make it a point to stress the word friends and Spencer almost flinches.

“I don’t believe you.” he says the words plainly. “Are you upset with me?” You turn to face him then, face stony, an expression on your face Spencer has never seen. Other than that day you were on the phone with your brother.

“Why would I be upset with you? You’re just the clueless thirty three year old everyone thinks can’t tell when a pretty girl at the bar is flirting with him.” Your words are hushed and low, your eyes dark in the poorly lit booth.

Spencer sighs, his shoulders reaching his ears before falling. “You’re jealous?”

You grumble, no point in hiding what is so very clear. “You flirt with me for ten months, and then you spend almost thirty minutes letting a stranger put their hands all over you and come back here like you didn’t know she was flirting? If you just wanted the attention you could’ve said so from the beginning, Spencer Reid.”

There’s no ‘Doctor,’ before his name that lets him know you’re being playful or funny. No, your words and your expression are the iciest thing he thinks he’s ever witnessed. You sound hurt more than anything and that makes Spencer’s heart crack right down the middle.

His hand reaches for your chin, turning you to face him. “I didn’t just want attention, you know that,”

You roll your eyes, “Oh do I?” Spencer likes this attitude on you, he can’t even pretend to lie to himself. He just doesn’t like the way you doubt him.

“I like you. You know I like you. Yes, the woman at the bar was flirting with me, but the conversation was being redirected. She was flirting with me till I told her I wasn’t interested and that I had someone waiting for me.”

You don’t believe him, “Took you twenty eight minutes to do that?”

Spencer smiles then, pressing his forehead into yours. “You’re worked up, sweet girl.” The nickname settles you a little. “It took me a little to catch on. I’ll admit it takes some getting used to from total strangers. But I didn’t enjoy her flirting with me if that’s what you’re really asking.”

Spencer’s thumb presses into the slight divot in your chin, your eyes stuck on his as he refuses to break eye contact. “I only want you to flirt with me.”

Your breath hitches, Spencer smiles. “You let her touch you.” He laughs at how petulant you sound, he knows your grip on your anger is slipping.

“Am I supposed to push her hands off me?” You nod and Spencer lets his nose run along your jaw. “You’re too much.”

Spencer doesn’t leave your side the rest of the night.

#spencerreid #spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x black reader #spencer reid x sunshine!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x y/n #dr spencer reid

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wilwheaton · 15 hours

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About ten paragraphs in it notes in passing that of the more than 45 people the reporters spoke to for the piece over several months “most of those who said Biden performed poorly were Republicans.” The use of Johnson and McCarthy as the two main fact witnesses is extraordinary on a few levels. The first and most obvious is that “Biden archrivals currently running against him say he’s way old and losing his edge” doesn’t have quite the punch of the article as presented. The other is that Biden famously managed to overmatch McCarthy in the debt ceiling negotiations that led to his fall from power and Biden’s personal lobbying seems to have played a key role in the eventual passage of Ukraine aid this spring. In other words, if Biden’s really losing it, he still managed to handle both guys pretty well.

Breaking from the Journal: Kev McCarthy and Mike Johnson Say Biden’s WAY Old

A couple of lying clowns told lies about President Biden, and the WSJ dutifully reprinted the lies without context or criticism.

This shit is crazy. Huge papers like the WSJ and NYT are just constantly presenting right wing lies -- easily disproved lies, at that -- as a matter of opinion, not a colossal and horrifyingly effective effort to gaslight and mislead voters.

It’s exhausting, and now that the Washington Post is on its way to being consumed by the British tabloid cancer its new editorial team is bringing to America from the Murdoch Bullshit factory, it’s only going to get worse.

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longing-for-rain · 3 days

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Katara and the “Mom Friend” Trope

Both in-universe and among fans, Katara has always been identified as the “mom friend.” While often used as a joke, the trope does reveal a deeper and more tragic aspect of Katara’s character: the way the war has forced her to grow up quickly and take on a parental role at a young age.

This is a frequently misunderstood part of Katara’s character, despite it being central to her arc. Since the show first aired, Katara has been the butt of many jokes and has always been one of the most hated characters by fans. From tasteless jokes about how she talks about the loss of her mother too much to accusations of being too emotional and bossy, Katara’s character has always been under attack by fans.

In past years, and still in certain parts of the internet, this behavior was blatant, but lately I’ve noticed a more subtle spin on this. As it becomes slightly less socially acceptable to say blatantly misogynistic things about female characters—particularly here on tumblr—I’ve noticed fans express the same negative sentiments about Katara, but dressed up to appear more progressive. The most common way I see this sentiment expressed is fans downplaying Katara’s role as “team mom” and trying to make it seem as if Katara is less mature and responsible than she really is.

Of course, these individuals would have you believe that their reasoning for these opinions is that they really care so much about Katara and want to “let her be a kid.” But in reality, when you ignore the way that Katara is forced into a parental role in canon, you also ignore and disregard the context for many of her character traits, leading into the accusations of her being bossy and overly emotional that I mentioned earlier. It erases, and therefore minimizes, a huge source of stress and trauma that weighs on Katara throughout the series.

The idea that Katara fans created the concept of her being a “mom friend” is ridiculous. This is mentioned so much in canon that it’s practically a running joke. Toph accuses Katara of acting like everyone’s mom in The Chase. A similar conflict arises again in The Runaway, when Sokka even admits that he thinks of Katara as a mother figure, despite him being her older brother.

Katara seems pretty hurt by this too, and it’s still never properly addressed again.

In The Headband, Katara actually pretends to be Aang’s mother.

And looking at everything we know about Katara, it’s very clear how she assumed this role. Think about what she says in the exposition of the entire show:

Katara: Ever since mom died, I've been doing all the work around camp while you've been off playing soldier! I even wash all the clothes! Have you ever smelled your dirty socks?

The moment Katara is introduced, the audience is given a critical piece of information about Katara—that she’s lost her mother and essentially assumed her role. While Sokka is more or less playing and occasionally hunting (we hardly ever see him do this in canon by the way), Katara is doing the overlooked, underappreciated labor that keeps everything moving. There is a great post here by @theotterpenguin that details this and the inherent misogyny in devaluing the kind of work Katara does, and how many fans tend to do this.

This trend continues throughout the course of the show. Katara is always the voice of reason who keeps things moving. She reigns in Sokka and Aang, who are constantly getting themselves into trouble.

There are countless examples, but to name a few:

As early as The Warriors of Kyoshi, she’s trying to get Aang to behave and not endanger himself to look cool. And having him mouth off when she gently suggests that he help with a minor chore.

In The Storm, Katara warns Sokka not to take a risky job, which he ignores and nearly gets himself killed.

In The Blue Spirit, Katara is trying the whole time to do something productive via Momo, remaining vigilant despite the sickness wearing her down.

In The Chase, being the one to politely ask Toph to help out, and honestly doing a pretty good job of keeping her cool as long as she did.

The entirety of The Desert episode. While everyone else was drugged up, hopeless, and even outright hostile, Katara kept everything moving and saved everyone’s lives.

Whenever Aang goes into the Avatar State, it’s always Katara tasked with calming him down, despite how dangerous and volatile the Avatar State is when not properly controlled.

Additionally, there are so many small details that add to this picture. Katara is always the one we see getting food, preparing food, doing chores, everything of that nature. Everyone else would be completely lost without her.

And sadly, this is something never properly addressed by the narrative nor acknowledged by fans. There is a great post here by @ecoterrorist-katara explaining the tragedy in this. Katara is constantly burdened with the responsibility of keeping everything moving and doing the invisible labor that is never appreciated but keeps everyone moving, which is the reason why she’s viewed as being in a maternal role. Because that’s what she very clearly is to her friends.

This really wasn’t meant to be a ship related post, but it is kind of the elephant in the room here. I know a lot of the motivation in downplaying Katara’s “mom friend” role stems from shipping discourse, in particular, the hatred of the idea of Katara and Zuko acting as team parents. Some people associate Momtara as a Zutara trope and as a result, relentlessly bash it as they do anything even tangentially related to Zutara. But did you ever consider why it’s a Zutara trope? Because a lot of fans recognize everything I mentioned previously, and enjoy the idea of someone helping to share that responsibility. Sokka, Aang, and Toph clearly didn’t, so that leaves…guess who.

Zuko: You should get some rest. We'll be there in a few hours. You'll need all your strength.

It’s tiring seeing this trend from people who clearly don’t care about Katara or her character. Sure, you might try to act like you’re downplaying Katara’s maternal role and how a huge part of her canon character was the war forcing her to assume that role out of “wanting her to be a kid” but you really aren’t that different from more blatantly misogynistic fans who call her immature and annoying. You don’t recognize or respect the work she’s constantly putting in to protect those around her, and then you have the audacity to get mad at fans of Katara who actually like the idea of someone taking some of that burden off of her shoulders?

Same Katara hate, different font. She is forced into this material role, and refusing to acknowledge this is disrespectful not just to Katara’s character, but all the real life women and girls forced into similar roles who see themselves in Katara.

#atla #katara #katara defense squad #zutara #pro katara #avatar the last airbender #meta #momtara

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meazalykov · 3 days

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jealousy jealousy

sydney lohmann x uswnt!bayern!reader

summary: you start to feel a big wave of jealousy over your girlfriend's best friend

warnings: not proofread

after two goals, it seemed like your happy mood went away as it came.

the shebelieves cup was in full swing in atlanta. It's the 35th minute and your head leaped high above the japanese defenders, your head connected perfectly with the cross made by lindsey horan. the ball soared into the net, and the stadium erupted in cheers. a smile broke across your photogenic face as you celebrated with your arms out jogging to the corner. your teammates surrounded you in celebration afterwards as you equalized against the japanese team.

despite the cheers of the crowd and the excitement in the air, something felt off. it was you. before the game, many of the american teammates noticed how sour your mood was.

your shots on the ball were harsh during the practice before the start of the match, and you were quiet in the dressing room– not bothering to talk to anybody. this is unusual, since you love talking to your international teammates that you see maybe once every one-two months.

some of your teammates assumed that it was pre-game jitters, others assumed it was because of a recent homophobic scandal that occurred with another player on the team, since you’re is lesbian and didn’t tolerate what that player did.

however, that wasn’t the cause of your high emotions. again in the 74th minute you took a daring shot from the 40-yard line when you saw a weak point in japan’s defense.

the ball sailed through the air, curving beautifully into the top corner of the goal. the crowd went wild again at the sight. you didn’t bother running to the corner to celebrate again with your signature pose, but your teammates couldn't contain their excitement, so they hugged you tightly.

as the celebrations died down from your second goal of the night, so did the smile on your face. the joy of the goal couldn't chase away the clouds that had been hanging over your thoughts. you’ve tried so hard to shake those thoughts away during your international break in the united states, but you failed.

after the game, your mood seemed to be worse since you had no distractions. even after winning the woman of the match, even after going into the final game against canada for the shebelieves. everyone around you knew that this was more than a “bad game.”

“hey, is everything okay?” emily fox sits down beside you on the benches, placing her soft hand on y/n’s knee covered in grass stains. you feel tense before relaxing. emily is the closest person to you on the team besides tierna, you should’ve known that they will confront you on what your problem is.

you take a deep breath for the first time since the end of the match, looking up at the sky while fighting yourself mentally. you wished that you could've concealed your emotions better.

“um– not really. you don’t have to worry about me.. it's ridiculous- sorry.” you rambled in thought as you looked, and around, emily.

“huh?” emily asked, looking at you with her eyebrows knitted.

“i’ve been thinking about syd.” you admit. you took a deep breath after speaking, realizing that talking about your feelings might be harder than expected. emily had a look of concern on her face as you moved your head to look down at your pink colored cleats.

“oh no– did something happen between you both?” emily asked. everyone in the community knows about the relationship between german footballer sydney lohmann and you, the known american striker. you met sydney after transferring to bayern munich from paris saint-germain last season.

“no- nothing really happened, its just about her and one of her friends.” you mumbled just so emily could hear. even though the crowd of people could easily conceal your voice if you spoke normally.

“It's just... sydney has a friend named laura. i’m not sure if you know who is she but laura plays for frankfurt– she and syd have always had a close friendship so– I know that there's nothing going on, but their friendship... it bothers me. I feel sad even though I shouldn't– because it feels like laura knows a part of sydney that I'll never get to know, like she can connect with her on ways i cannot." you continued to speak as you spilled your thoughts to the arsenal player.

emily takes her thumb and wipes away a single tear that poured down your right eye. she felt bad, she knows that you’ve been feeling these problems for a while. however, its worse when you’re in america away from sydney. you miss your girlfriend a lot.

giving a sympathetic smile, emily rubs your knee in comfort and speaks. “hey– at least it's good that nothing too bad happened! i don’t want to offend you– but jealousy is tough.”

“i’m not jealous!” you lied as your face scrunched. emily shook her head, ignoring your protest, and spoke again “girl– you have to remember that what she has with you and laura is different. from what i am seeing and what you’re talking about, its clear that she loves you a lot. what she has with her friend doesn’t take away from what she has with you." emily said.

“i know but how can i get rid of these feelings? i feel terrible because i don’t want to talk to her just for her to think that i do not trust her.” you ask emily. the arsenal player would never judge you, you know that, so you’re comfortable with asking her these questions.

“you can change your mindset into believing that there is no threat to your relationship and you need talk to sydney about how you feel– especially that second one– you might resent her if you hold your thoughts in and that is not good.” emily gave the best advice she could at that moment. you know that you’re both worn out from the game against japan. so, you nod your head in response before you both stood up to head into the dressing room.

---

back in munich, you sat on your beige sectional sofa in your shared apartment with sydney. you won the shebelieves cup a week prior after a penalty kick made by emily fox.

you were scrolling on your tiktok app before swiping out. your fingers pressed on the instagram app and the first post you saw was a post from sydney.

sydneylohmann

liked by news4fem, wosofans, and 12,974 others

sydneylohmann 🇩🇪🤍🖤

comments

random574383 😍

y/n.l/n cute cute cute 🥰😍

sam_kerr___ 🔥

pharder10 💫

----

you commented on the post, as you always showed appreciation under your girlfriends posts, but you tried to ignore the knot forming in your stomach. you looked around and saw sydney walk into the living room from the kitchen. she laid right beside you and put her arm around your shoulders, looking up at the netflix documentary you put on TV.

"the post you made to insta earlier is adorable. you and laura are really close, huh?" you said. you weren’t lying about finding her post adorable. you just wanted to find clarity from your intrusive thoughts.

sydney glanced over at y/n, a smile on her face. "yeah, laura is my best friend on the national team. we've been through a lot together."

you slightly smiled at her talking.

however, there was a hint of sadness in your eyes that sydney picked up on. she put down a water bottle she had in her left hand down on the coffee table, before turning her body to face you.

“hey– is everything okay?” sydney asked. your eyes widened realizing that you couldn’t hide your feelings from her.

“yes i’m okay, why?” you breathed out. sydney’s eyebrows knitted, she wasn’t convinced.

“you’re lying?” sydney said, the tone she said it sounded like a question. however, you knew she wasn’t.

you immediately shook your head, a bit too quickly. "no i’m not."

sydney raised an eyebrow, still not convinced. "y/n, come on. I know you better than that. what's going on?"

you sighed, feeling the weight of your insecurities pressing down on you. you’ve remembered emily’s comment from almost two weeks ago. you had to speak before your thoughts turned into resentment, even if sydney would get mad at you for what you’re about to say.

"it's you and laura– it's just– don’t take this the wrong way– but i’m jealous of her– wait– it’s not that i'm jealous of something happening between you two. you guys have this special bond that's just–” you took a deep breath as sydney gave you looks of confusion and sadness.

“sorry– you and laura seem to share something special, and it makes me feel like i'm missing out on some part of you. i know we’ve only been together since last season, but i just feel– left out?" you’ve tried to fit your emotions into the right words. instead of being upset, your girlfriend’s facial expression softened,

she took both of your hands into hers. "hey, i’m not upset— laura is my best friend– but you are the love of my life.”

you looked down, your voice barely above a whisper. "it's just that sometimes the media ships you two together, and before i could ignore it but now it gets to me. i know it's wrong, but it bothers me especially on international breaks."

your girlfriend moved her hands away from yours, cupping your face into her hands now– making sure you had her full attention. "it's not wrong if the media bothers you, they have the tendency to bother everyone– but i need you to understand that you have nothing to worry about– laura appreciates and loves how much you mean to me– she has her own girlfriend who she loves dearly too– the media doesn't know us at all. you are mine and i am yours, y/n.”

you felt a warmth spread through your chest at sydney's reassurance. this is one reason why you fell in love with her a year ago. she always had the words to make you feel better and the compatibility between the both of you was strong. you should’ve known that you’d have nothing to worry about "thank you, syd. i needed to hear that– i’m sorry."

sydney leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead as a tear fell from your right eye. she wiped it with her thumb as soon as she noticed it. "anytime. and you don’t need to apologize. I love you and only you romantically."

#sydney lohmann #gerwnt #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #uswnt x reader #emily fox #laura freigang #uswnt imagine #bayern frauen #bayern munich

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fastandcarlos · 19 hours

Text

Soft Moments : ̗̀➛ F1 Reaction

: ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

The smell of something cooking was the perfect thing for Charles to be greeted with as he walked through the front door. His eyes were drawn to you, making yourself busy and blissfully unaware that your partner had walked through the door.

“Hey,” he whispered, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. Your smile grew as you felt Charles rest his chin against your shoulder.

“When do you get home?” You mumbled as a trail of kisses was placed along your neck whilst your hands danced across the kitchen counter keeping everything ticking over.

“Not long,” he hummed, “I missed you today.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle back at Charles, “you saw me five hours ago,” you reminded him, spinning around so that the two of you now stood face to face.

“Five hours too long,” Charles whispered, kissing against your lips gently. “What’s cooking, good looking?”

“Your favourite.”

: ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

A groan came from Max as he walked through the front door to still find you sat at your desk, exactly where he found you sat a few hours ago. Straight away he walked over, taking the pens out of your hands and ignoring your protests.

“You need to rest,” he reminded you, shaking his head as you pouted, exclaiming with your hands to him the work you had remaining.

“I’m busy,” you huffed, but Max defied you, picking you up and sitting you into his lap as he sat in your desk chair, holding both of his hands securely against your waist.

“Not anymore,” he chuckled, “you’re all mine instead.”

Your head shook as Max checked you over, hoping you’d at least tried to look after yourself during the day. “I’m alright,” you whispered, almost reading his mind.

“I know,” he murmured, peppering a kiss against the tip of your nose. “No more work is allowed today, you have to have some time off love.”

“Yes boss.”

: ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

The nod of your head was all that Lando needed as he offloaded about how busy race weekend was, knowing as always you’d understand him perfectly. He was vulnerable with you, comfortable and safe.

“You’re home now,” you whispered, brushing the hair out of Lando’s face. For the first time in days he felt himself relax and begin to settle once again.

“You’re the best,” he murmured as he nuzzled tighter into your hold, allowing his eyes to close and forget who he was and what he did for a moment.

“I didn’t do anything,” you laughed, “I’m just here.”

Lando’s head tilted back to be able to look up at you, “you don’t just do nothing, you do everything, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d be an amazing race driver, and a pretty cool boyfriend,” you assured him, offering him yet another comforting smile that Lando always craved from you.

“You’re still the best.”

: ̗̀➛ Carlos Sainz

The hum of delight that came from Carlos made your heart skip a beat, the two of you were contently tangled in with each other, laid out on the bed together and not wanting to move for the rest of the day.

“Keep doing that,” Carlos murmured as your hands slipped out of his hair momentarily, brushing through the thick strands and curling them round your finger.

“You like it?” You joked, already knowing what Carlos’ answer would be before you even asked the question. “Shall I carry on playing with your hair.”

“You’re not allowed to stop,” Carlos instructed, “never ever.”

The smile that looked up at you made your cheeks blush, Carlos staring sweetly as he always did. “I don’t think I’ll be allowed to do that somehow.”

“I give you permission,” he continued to argue. “Maybe I could tell my team that you playing with my hair will help me win more races.”

“You’re insane Sainz.”

: ̗̀➛ George Russell

Your eyebrows knitted together as George grabbed the other ends of the duvet cover that you were folding, standing proudly with a smile as he silently offered you a helping hand to sort things after watching you struggle for a while.

“I could get used to this,” he suddenly announced as George stepped forwards and brought his corners to yours to start folding the duvet cover up.

“Get used to what?” You responded in confusion, uncertain as to what had suddenly sent your boyfriend into a squishy mess before you.

“Just regular things,” he smiled, “like what proper couples do.”

You struggled to hold back your smile as you folded once again. “I never had you down to be the domesticated kind of boyfriend you know.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” George teased as he pressed a kiss against the top of your head, giving you space to finish the job.

“You’re a mystery sometimes.”

: ̗̀➛ Lewis Hamilton

The feeling of a hand cupping against the side of your face was enough to lull you out of the daydream you’d been having, slowly waking yourself in amongst the comfort of a warm embrace and the faint whispers of your boyfriend.

“Good morning sleepyhead,” Lewis jokingly whispered as he watched your eyes slowly flutter open, relieved to finally be back home again.

“Morning,” you hummed, wiping the sleep out of your eyes. “Did I mention how happy I am to have you back at home and in bed with me?”

“You might’ve mentioned it once or twice,” Lewis chuckled.

You shuffled further into his embrace, “you have no idea how happy my heart is the first day you get home, it’s the best feeling in the world.”

“What about every other day?” He asked, continuing to mess with you. “Do you just get bored of me by about day three and want to send me back?”

“I’d never bore of you.”

: ̗̀➛ Daniel Ricciardo

You smiled appreciatively across at Daniel as your tears finally began to subside. Your breath was still shaky, heart still racing, but at least you had Daniel by your side to comfort you through it all.

“Works sucks,” he whispered, wrapping a strong grip around your frame. “I’m sorry it’s so tough for you sweetheart, it’s not fair of them to do this.”

“What do I do?” You honestly asked Daniel, praying that somehow he had the solution to how you were going to solve your problems at work.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “but I’m going to help you through it.”

Your head rested against Daniel’s chest, “what would I do without you? Even in my worst moments you still manage to somehow make me smile.”

“I guess I’m just a pro,” Daniel sniggered, kissing against the top of your head to provide yet another distraction from what you were going through.

“That you are.”

: ̗̀➛ Logan Sargeant

You flopped down beside Logan on the sofa, straight away it was as if he knew exactly what you needed, opening his arms for you to roll right into, settling against his strong chest and tangling your legs together.

“That bad of a day?” He quizzed, resting his head against the top of your own. “At least you get to come home to me, aren’t you the luckiest?”

“I am,” you sincerely responded, “I’ve been counting down the minutes most of the day until I was able to come home and receive all your cuddles.”

“Aw babe,” Logan smirked, feeling a tad proud of himself.

Your head shook as you heard the smugness in his voice. “Stop trying to ruin the moment, I’m being serious, your cuddles are just the best.”

“I’m glad I could help,” Logan whispered, squeezing you even tighter against his body. “What do you say to just staying here for the rest of the evening?”

“I like the sound of that.”

: ̗̀➛ Lance Stroll

You could feel Lance’s eyes staring across at you as yet another yawn escaped, struggling to keep your eyes open despite the two of you only slipping into bed and settling down a few moments earlier.

“Get some rest,” Lance whispered, tucking your loose strands of hair behind your ears. “I’m not going anywhere, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“But I’ve barely spoken to you,” you sighed softly, “I want to hear all about your day and hear how preparations for the race are going.”

“We’ve got tomorrow,” Lance reminded you, “you’re my priority.”

You smiled appreciatively back at Lance, poking against his chest. “How about a nap? Then you can fill me in on all the details that missed.”

“We can nap,” Lance confirmed, pulling you into his side, “but only because you’re too stubborn to ever listen to what I have to say.”

“I’m just always right.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

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yeonzzzn · 7 hours

Text

to be popular: park jongseong

pairing: jay x afab!reader word count: 2.3k

synopsis: when all you want is to be in the spotlight along with your best friend and he helps you out.

genre: childhood friends!, popular!jay, friends to ?, smut.

warnings: swearing, alcohol, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, degradation, fingering.

a/n: had this in my drafts for awhile and finally decided to finish it up! enjoy it! ~

“Do you think he would though?”

All Jay could do was lock eyes with you at your question. This was normal for the two of you at parties.

“YN…” He sighs, lifting the beer can to his lips, “You know how I feel about this.”

You pouted at your best friend, clenching the empty beer can in your hand, and hearing the crack of the tin above the music.

You wouldn’t call yourself a loser, but you weren’t exactly below a loser or even more than a loser. You were just normal. Completely and simply normal. Jay though? Has been the most popular guy since kindergarten.

The two of you grew up together as neighbors, both being the only children in your families, it was only natural you both grew attached to each other. Jay was popular from the moment you both started school. And as the years went on it only got worse. As a child, you figured your popularity would come along with being best friends with Jay, mostly since homeboy was the captain on every sports team he played on and was even top of your class as well. Not to mention he was the head guitar player for the school's band growing up as well. Jay had multiple reasons under his belt for being popular. But you were always in his shadow. The most people knew of you was that you lived next door to him and were one of his best friends. That’s it. Nothing more. Nothing less.

And it infuriated you.

Nothing you did put you in the spotlight. People barely remembered your name or who you were until you were standing right next to him. At first, you thought it was just kids being mean, but as the years went on, you slowly learned that maybe it was just you. Someone who was forgettable.

Jay always got pissed off with you anytime you would mention how forgettable you were, “You’re literally my BEST FRIEND, YN!” he’d snapped at you, “You’re everything but forgettable.”

Sure, you had some boys knocking on your door for attention, and you’d give them it. But your popularity never went anywhere. It’s not like you even wanted the popularity for the attention really, you just wanted to feel like an equal with Jay. To have everyone remember your name and who you were. To not be well…barely above a loser.

“Jay,” you turned your body fully towards him, lifting your knee to your chest and taking a hold of the burnt orange colored couch with your free hand, “It’s a yes or no question!”

Jay chugged down the rest of his beer and shifted his eyes from you over to Heeseung, the guy you are basically begging him to answer on if he’d be down to fuck you. Heeseung was a friend of Jay’s and also one of the most popular guys at your college. Heeseung has a reputation for fucking any girl who comes his way. Jay knew it was only a matter of time before you resorted to trying to get Heeseung to spread your legs.

Heeseung was probably six or seven drinks in at this party and was currently getting touchy with another girl in the kitchen. Eyes completely locked on her.

Jay looked back at you with a slight smirk, “He looks busy.”

You rolled your eyes, “That’s not what I'm asking.”

Jay looked down at the coffee table in front of him, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth. Why did this matter so much to you? Chasing after popular guys at the college just to get your name out there. Jay never understood why you wanted this popularity. If anything, Jay wished he was in your position. To be normal and not have multiple females at every party he attends jumping his bones.

And quite frankly, Jay was tired of having this conversation with you.

“I’m not answering this,” he said with a wave of his hand, “You know I don’t like the idea of you throwing yourself at random guys just for attention.”

You tossed the empty beer can on the table and clenched your fist, starting to get up from the couch, “Fuck you then, if you feel that way. I'll try to seduce him myself.” This is how every conversation about this topic goes with Jay. Him always shutting you down. But you've had enough of it.

And apparently, so did Jay.

Because you were down flat on your back on the couch with him hovering over you.

“J-Jay,” you glanced your eyes around the room, “W-what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer you, taking your arms and pinning them above your head, his lips now attached to your neck. Your body reacted in a way you weren’t expecting it to. You tilted your head to the side, giving him more access to you. Your heart rate increased, and the thoughts not circulating in your brain scared you.

“Jay,” you called his name again, shifting yourself as best as you could away from his lips.

One of his hands left your wrist and took your jaw between his fingers, “This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?” Jay hovered his lips above yours, barely brushing them together and sliding his free hand down to the button of your jeans, “To be fucked like a slut publicly. All to be popular.”

He was angry. Frustrated. Pissed at every man in this room that you’ve tried to pull into bed with you. Pissed at you. This was the only way he knew to not only set you straight but also get his feelings out of the way.

He pressed his lips to yours in the same motion of unbuttoning your jeans, his cold fingers slipping down your panties and rubbing at your folds, humming against your lips, “Already so wet? Just from me barely touching you?”

“Shut up,” you snapped, lifting yourself to connect your lips back together. Jay’s cock twitched at your sudden action and pushed two fingers into your cunt, groaning at how perfectly you clenched around him. How perfectly you feel.

It amazed him how unfazed you were right now. Jay was sure you’d push him off or snap at him for even making a move on you. The two of you were best friends after all, and never once crossed this line until well, now. Jay could blame it on the alcohol he’s consumed. Could even blame it on all that you’ve had to drink as well.

But it was all further from the truth.

Jay pushed his fingers in you faster and parted your lips with his tongue, wrapping the muscle around yours. He was getting so drunk off your taste. Was so turned on over the fact you’re letting him do this to you in the middle of a public college party. You surprised yourself. Your whole plan was just to get Heeseung to make out with you in front of everyone and then drag him off into an empty bedroom or even the bathroom. The last thing you expected was your best friend to be knuckled deep in your pussy and his tongue down your throat.

And by god with the way he was working his fingers in and out of you, you knew your orgasm was fast approaching. As if he already knew how to work your body before even touching you.

The truth…he’s only ever dreamed of how it would feel to do something like this with you. He pulled his fingers from your cunt and looped them at your jeans and pushed them down and leaving your mouth, “You’ve made your rounds asking every single fuck boy possible,” he scoffed, flying his hands to undo his belt, jeans button and zipper, “To fuck you like a slut all for popularity.” The truth…the truth the truth the truth, “Asked everyone but me.”

Your eyes widened at his words, a new feeling sinking into your heart. He sounded angry, his face showed hints of jealousy as his eyes pierced into you and his hands worked at shoving his pants and boxers down past his hips, setting his cock free.

It surprised you how willingly Jay was to do this. How he didn’t seem to care that he was about to fuck you on a couch in the middle of some random party with everyone around to witness it. But it’s what you wanted, right?

Jay lined his tip to your entrance and wasted no time pushing himself in, flinging his head back when it kissed your cervix, “Fuck, YN,” he hissed, taking your wrists back in his hands to pin against the leather of the couch. Jay was already seeing stars at how perfectly you felt wrapped around him. How good you felt. Like your cunt was made for him and him only.

He fucked into you hard, keeping his face tucked perfectly in the crook of your neck. You tried to keep your moans down, eyes wandering the living room to see if anyone was watching.

“Why are you so nervous now, baby?” he whispered in your ear, fucking into you harder, “You wanted this,” You clenched your fists, your nails digging into your calm to focus on that pain instead of the pleasure he was giving you down south, “Everyone fucks at parties. Moan for me, YN. Let everyone see how good I’m giving it to you.”

He bit down into your neck and you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your lips parted and a loud wet moan escaped. Jay smirked at the sound, darting his eyes over to Heeseung and loving the way his friend's jaw was dropped and eyes locked onto the two of you.

“See that, baby?” he cooed, “All eyes are on you now,” you barely tilted your head to the side, seeing Heeseung and the female at his side both staring at you and Jay. Seeing the eyes of random partygoers staring as they walked past the living with their eyes wide. Heeseung finally closed his mouth and tucked his lips between his teeth, making Jay spiral, “See, now he fucking wants you,” you looked back at Jay, seeing the fire burning within him, “No one is allowed to have you, understand?”

He slid his hands down to your hips, squeezing them tightly as he fucked into you faster and harder, forcing more moans to leave your lips.

“Asked everyone but me to fucked you,” he scoffed, “Never once did you think to ask me. Would have done it with no second thoughts.” The truth the truth the truth, “I’ve dreamed of having you underneath me like this, wrapped around my cock so perfectly. I’ve been so in love with you since we were kids. Kids, YN.” his anger burned hotter as he unleashed all his emotions, “Never gave a fuck how unpopular you were. Never cared that no one knew who you were because I wanted you all to myself,” he pressed his forehead to yours, brushing his lips to yours as he moans out from the pleasure, “But you? You just wanted to be popular.”

You pulled your wrists from his hands and tangled your fingers in his hair, pushing him down to you to connect your lips together and wrapping your legs over his hips, “I only care about you right now, Seongie. Who cares about being popular.”

Your words had his heart doing flips. He finally got to you after so long. He smiled and looked back at Heeseung, feeling even more excited knowing Heeseung was still very much watching. It only pushed Jay to fuck into you faster. Harder. To kiss you harder. To bite your lip and pull and squeeze your hips harder to force you to arch your back at his every touch and pull. He loved knowing that another man was getting hard just by watching him fuck you. Loved seeing said man thirst for you knowing he wouldn’t be able to have you.

You belonged to him. Always had. And always would. Because Jay isn’t letting you go after this.

He kissed down your jaw and to your neck, “I’m fixing to cum, my love,” he whispered, placing opened-mouthed kisses to your skin, feeling the way you clench around him, “And I know you’re at your limit too.”

You nodded, tanging your fingers more into his dark hair and pulling slightly, “I want to cum with you.”

He chuckled, sliding one hand to your thigh and the other cupping your face, “All you had to do was ask,” and he pressed his lips to yours, moaning into your mouth as he gave one final thrust and squeezed the plush of your thigh. You both were filled with so much ecstasy as you came together. Breathing in each other's breaths.

Once his head stopped spinning, Jay quickly pulled his jacket from his body and covered your lower halves, “I don’t need Heeseung over there seeing any more than he already has.”

You giggled at him, sitting yourself up on your elbows, “You didn’t seem to care that I was exposed earlier.”

Jay pinched your jaw between his fingers, “Not my fault you wanted to act like such a slut earlier.”

You bit at your lips and gave him pleading eyes. Loving the way he smirked down at you.

“You got your wish though, my love,” he said, pulling out of you and keeping the jacket in place as he pulled his jeans back up over his hips and helped you pull yours up too, “To be popular. Everyone will be talking about us now.”

You pulled at his shirt collar and kissed him tenderly. Never did you ever think your childhood best friend would be in this position with you. To be so in love with you. Deep down you felt the same and didn’t want to admit it to yourself. And it only took you acting on your said wish.

“At least we both will be the talk.”

Jay just chuckles against your lips, “Only come to me when you want a good fuck, ya? You’re mine.”

—perm.tlist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @criminalyun @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez @jaeyunq @rikizm @kaykay11sworld @pockettwinzz @vixialuvs @seunghancore @enha-cafe @ppanghoon @sunpov @zeeloveshee @hxxsxxng @moonrisearies @brownsugarbaybee @nshmrarki @vveebee @teddybeartaetae @kookify @abysofsteel @aileeeeeeeeeeeee @hee-lvrr @1309zip

#jay bae #park jongseong #jongseong park #jay park #park jay #jay x reader #reader x jay #park jongseong smut #park jay smut #enhypen #enhypen x reader #reader x enhypen #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #yeonzzzn writing

151 notes · View notes

i-yap · 23 hours

Text

Batboys x quiet! reader(who is not quiet in private)

( some of the reasons for the quietness is a bit traumatic so uhh warning)

Dick grayson -

opposites attract is possibly my favorite trope ever. And that is exactly what you guys are . Not exactly golden retriever x black cat though people who didn't know you guys well assumed such .

Dick would get exhausted spending forever being charming and charismatic for even the most extroverted of people get tired when they had to manage multiple superhero teams, a detective squad and the whole batfamily.

You were silence, peace serenity almost..until you weren't. Grayson was worried about this relationship in the start, after all you guys were really different. He was afraid you were going to be annoyed by his sunshine self, and that when he isn't feeling like talking, the conversations would go silent.

But you really are so different when comfortable with someone, and its tough not to trust and drop your shield with grayson.

It took him by surprise slowly seeing you open up and show your weird side. It somehow made him cherish it more and even want to show sides of him that only you got to see.

When he asked you why you weren't like this with everyone you said " My parents had a habit of talking over me, sometimes outrightly not hearing me speak at all. No matter how loud I spoke..i wondered if they couldn't hear me...if anyone even wanted to you" "why me then?" asked dick , "you're nothing like my parents, I know you care" and he does..he really does. He won't ever let you feel like that every again. He will make sure everything you want said is heard, and if not he will burn it into the skyline

Jason todd

he appreciated it, a quiet person in public. He hated being in public, he hated the buzz the noise the push the touch of humans around him. He felt strange

till he feels you hold his knowing you felt just as strange as him. Leave the gala and walk around the library , one earphone in each ear listening to whatever you wished to play.

Pulling you close in crowded areas- was it for you or for him? Glaring at anyone who dared tease you about your quietness. A single glare usually does the job but don't worry ...other ways exist too.

He loves that when you two are alone, you are a completely different person. It makes him feel special, like he is the only one who understands you. Because you're the only one who understands him.

When he asks " well I guess I never felt like people liked what came out of my mouth.. my humour too dark, my words too dumb and I didn't make sense. So I stopped trying" don't worry about being cringe..he understands you completely

Tim drake

he is intruiged. How do you pull such a perfect facade. How does one look so poised and collected with those rich assholes and so wild and untamed with him?

He could never really perfect the act the way you did. He's seen you grow up, but somehow its like you were born with two people living in your brain.

If you're this mysterious to your childhood lover, how does anyone in the world even think that they could know you, both versions of you.

Dont get me wrong, he loved it, A mystery he never could solve, not even with your help.

" Teach me your ways master" "I remember you wanting me to call you that last night..oh no wait it was si-" "shut upp" "fine ill tell you timmy boy, I just believe those rich stick up their ass puppets don't deserve to see all ..this.." "what about school kids, friends , teemates-" "I don't need anyone to get me as long as you do"

He will never get it, even if someone engraved it into his skin he wont understand everything about you , you'll always be the case he couldn't solve.

AND WE ARE BACK BICHES , send in requests and stuff, inbox open again blah blah I'm feeling much better now but I might push angst stuff more

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babygirlboeser · 2 days

Text

So It Goes…

pairing: matt rempe x f! reader

wc: 4.1k

genres: mainly smut, kinda fluffy leading up to the filth and soft aftercare

summary: matt played so well tonight, and he deserves to be celebrated. you were eager to show him just how proud of him you were.

note: this takes place on may 24th 2024, after round 3 game 2

warnings: pure filth, unprotected p in v, oral (both m and f receiving), fingering, cursing, shitty writing and probably typos

a/n: i haven’t really written anything longer than blurbs in a few years so this is very rusty as it’s my first full length fic in ages i’m sorry

18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI

It was too risky. This was the playoffs, every second counts, and they couldn’t run the chance of taking any unnecessary penalties. Okay, yes, he’s a very physical player and surely your boyfriend deserves a fair amount of the penalties he’s dealt, but at times it really was complete utter bullshit. You swore sometimes he was penalized for just existing too close to another player. The officials hate him, so in crucial moments like these, it was too risky to play him. With one goal from each team in the first, followed by two scoreless periods, game two of the Eastern Conference Final was heading into overtime.

It was rare for Matt to get a shift in the third period, let alone in overtime. Which is why your heart practically burst when you saw your boy step onto the ice tonight, in not two, not three, but all four periods. You were surprised, but so excited for him. You can’t imagine how buzzed he must be feeling right now.

He loved it, the energy, the roar of the crowd chanting his name. It was like a drug to him. Whether it be massive hits, starting a line brawl, or just playing an energetic shift, he lived to put on a show. Matt had become something of a fan favorite since his debut, and the crowd went wild when they realized he was getting a shift in overtime. All eyes were on your boyfriend as he skated across the ice, the chants of his name fueling him. He was the hottest thing in New York these days, the center of attention that nobody could take their eyes off of. It was like nobody else mattered when Rempe was on the ice. You’ll admit, it did make you a little insecure. There were thousands of pretty girls here that wanted him, staring at him, yelling his name. But in that sea of other girls, the only one he cared about was you. You were his good luck charm. He played better when you were there, and he always made sure he knew where you were sitting so he could look for you in the stands. He always gave it his all, but a quick glance to you in the crowd was sure to give him that extra boost of motivation to play even better. He appreciates the fans so much, but what he loved the most was knowing that his girl was there. Cheering him on, supporting him every step of the way. You attended every game you possibly could. His average time on ice wasn’t high, and he always felt bad when you would show up to games where his TOI was especially low, profusely apologizing for wasting your time. You reminded him you didn’t care if he played sixty minutes or two, you were there to support him no matter what.

With every minute that passed you wondered more and more if you would be seeing a second overtime, until suddenly the entire arena erupted in cheers as Goodrow netted the game winner, fourteen minutes into overtime. The section where you sat with the other WAGs was especially loud, all of you thrilled for the guys. After the recent 3-0 loss, you were all undoubtedly very happy with the outcome of tonight's game, the series now tied 1-1.

As the crowd dissipated you made your way down to the parking lot. You and Matt usually drove separately as he needed to be there earlier, so you would head home and wait for him. You say goodbye to a few of the other ladies as you get in your car, then shoot off a quick text to Matt before you start your drive home.

hey baby i’m just heading out now, you played amazing i’m so so proud of you and can’t wait to see u. so happy you got some OT!!!! if ur going out with the guys have fun and be safe and i’ll see you at home later, i love you so much <3

You and Matt’s apartment wasn’t far from Madison Square Garden, but the New York traffic combined with your eagerness to get home were making this drive feel endless. You figured he might go out to celebrate with some of the guys for a while, but you still wanted to get home and wait for him, impatient and eager to wrap him in your arms, smothering him with kisses and praise of how well he performed tonight. You hoped he was as proud of himself as you were of him. With nine hits, a TOI of 10:06, which may not sound like much, but was significantly higher than usual, and surprisingly no penalties, this was one of his best games yet. You yourself were still buzzing with excitement from the game, you can’t imagine how he must feel.

Home now, you made your way to the couch, settling down with a book to pass some time. You were startled upon hearing Matt’s key in the door merely minutes after you had walked in. You didn’t expect him home this early, but you were glad he was. As Matt makes his way inside, you try to restrain yourself from jumping up and throwing yourself at him like a total crazy person. You didn’t try very hard.

“Hi” You say through a giggle, a big smile plastered across your face as you practically leap towards him.

As you reach him, you essentially climb him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he swiftly scoops you up by your thighs, holding you close against his body. As you wrap your legs tightly around his waist, he puts one hand under your ass for support, and the other rubs up and down your back.

“I thought you would be going out with the guys?” You question, while you begin running your hands through his hair.

“Tired. Just wanted to come home to you. Crazy game.” His response slightly muffled as he nuzzles his face against you, pressing kisses to your neck.

“Yeah it was.” You say. Hand still tangled in his hair, you pull his face from your neck and pull him to your lips for a quick, sloppy kiss.

“I’m so proud of you.” You whisper.

“Shut up.” He murmurs playfully, avoiding your eyes.

He blushes at the praise and quickly buries his face in your neck again, not wanting you to see him rosy-cheeked. The tough guy act wasn’t working, it rarely did with you. He was a big sweetheart and you both knew it, whether he would ever admit it or not. Sure he was tough as nails on the ice, but off? Total teddy bear, especially for you. You saw through him so easily, and he wasn’t sure if he loved or hated how easily you could turn him into a blushing, giggling mess. A blushing mess who was truly loving the way you were talking about him right now, so happy that you liked his game tonight. His team, the fans, his family, and his girl; he just wanted to make them proud. And that he did. He always did.

Despite playing shy, you could tell he was loving the way you spoke so highly of him, and you were loving it too. You were so in love with this beautiful boy. How could you not literally worship him? You gently tug at his hair once more, making his eyes meet yours, wanting to see him as you were seriously loving how cute he looked like this, all smiley and pink in the face.

“Baby! You played so well. I’m really proud of you. And you got a shift in overtime! That’s amazing! This was a huge game for you, aren’t you proud of yourself?” You ask.

“Okay, okay, it was pretty great.” He says excitedly and his smile grows as the blush begins to fade. You can tell he’s still feeling the exhilaration of the game.

‘Yeah it was!” You agree.

“And no bullshit penalties!” He exclaims.

“I know, I can’t believe it either!” You both laugh and he smirks. God, that smirk does unspeakable things to you.

Sliding a hand to the back of your neck, Matt softly pulls you closer until your faces are just a hair apart, practically touching.

“I love you so much.” He whispers.

“I love you too, baby.” You respond and he pulls you in for a deep kiss.

It was moments like these where all jealousy went out the window and you truly couldn’t care less about those other girls. Some of them would recognize you in the stands and shoot dirty looks your way, but you just laughed. You were the one wrapped around him right now, and you were the one that he loved. When everyone wanted him, he only wanted you. You felt so unbelievably lucky, yet truly confused as to how you managed to pull this man. This perfect, amazing man, who played his best tonight, and looked really fucking hot while doing it. Although, you thought he looked good doing anything. He looked good right now. Pressed up against you, that pretty smile, those big brown eyes. Not to mention, the occasional squeeze he was giving your ass was not helping your sanity. You hoped he wasn’t too tired from the game, because fuck, you were getting so turned on.

Of course he’s happy about his TOI, and that he got to play in overtime, but most of all he’s so glad that you’re proud of him. There’s nothing he loves more than seeing you smile, and the fact that he’s the reason for it is absolutely melting him. He’s buzzing. He just played a really great game, and gets to come home to his beautiful, smiley, giggly girlfriend showering him with praise. Who is also, not to mention, dangerously close to his boner right now. He’s on cloud nine.

You tighten your legs around him and he grunts at the friction.

“You okay?” You say while loosening your legs slightly, not realizing what had just happened and thinking you might have hurt him.

“I- um- yeah” He stutters. You notice his face redden again and suddenly become aware of the hardening member pressing against you.

“Bed. Now.” You demand through a big smile, and you too are blushing now.

With you still tangled around him, he carries you to the bedroom and sits on the bed, you straddling his lap. Matt runs his hands under your shirt and up your back, showing love to every inch of your skin. He begins to toy with the fabric of your shirt and looks to you for permission, to which you quickly nod. He swiftly pulls your shirt over your head, taking in how fucking gorgeous you look sat on top of him in only a bra. You then help him remove his shirt, tossing them both to the side. You pull him in for a heated kiss, hands now rifling through each other's hair as your tongues explored the others mouth. With less clothes between you now, you’re melting at the feel of his warm skin against yours. Not breaking the kiss, you allow your hands to start wandering. Matt gasps and bucks his hips as you palm him through his clothes.

“Take them off.” You command as you remove yourself from your spot on his lap. He complies, tugging the rest of his clothes off, tossing them to the floor where they joined your recently discarded shirts.

Normally, Matt would go down on you first. He puts your needs above his, always wanting to make you cum at least once before he even thinks about cumming himself. Tonight however, you insisted on doing all the work, knowing he was tired from the game. You were totally fine with treating him and doing the work, in fact you wanted to. He deserves to be celebrated, and you always loved making him feel good. He lays down, hesitantly, as he feels bad not treating you first. You flash him a smile to assure him that it’s okay, and you take him in one hand, starting him out with a few slow strokes as you lower your head and begin slowly flicking your tongue over his tip. He was pulsating, precum already leaking from him, so desperate to feel your lips wrapped around him. He gently pushes your hair out of your face and gathers it behind your head, loosely gripping it like a makeshift ponytail. Without warning, you take all of him in your mouth and start moving up and down on his cock. Matt lets out a loud moan, his head already spinning from how good it felt. You keep going, your pace rapidly increasing, as Matt tried to stifle his moans, which became more and more challenging as he neared climax.

“Fuck, baby.” He groaned lowly as you continue to fuck him with your mouth.

“Feels so good. Don’t stop.” He whined desperately.

His breathing suddenly hitched, confirming that he was close. You begin to hum against him, knowing the vibrations of your moans would drive him over the edge. The sudden change in technique had him gasping and fighting the urge to buck his hips up into your face. His grip on your hair tightened so much his hand shook. The pressure on your scalp and his breathy moans and whines were turning you on so much. He moaned again and you fought the desire to dive a hand into your panties. He sounded so pretty, and the way his cock throbbed and twitched in your mouth made you so needy to feel him inside of you.

Matt whined your name and his waist moved fastly up and down as the band in his stomach was about to snap. With one last bob of your head, he lets out a loud groan as he releases, filing your throat with cum. You hold him deep in your throat, and moan loudly against the base of his cock, the vibrations making him cum even harder. You detach your mouth from him and gently stroke his length a few more times as he comes down from his high. He lifts his head to see you looking at him with watery doe eyes as you lick your lips, cleaning up any drops that may have spilled from your mouth. He watches as you swallow everything he just gave you, and lets out a drawn out “Fuuuck” before throwing his head back to the pillow again, still needing to recover from the pleasure. You smiled at him, smug that you did a good job.

Giving him a moment to catch his breath, you kiss up his abs and chest until you reach his face. He pulls you in for a kiss, and with ease he flips you both over, him now hovering over you, all while not breaking the kiss. He pecks your lips once more, and starts kissing his way down your body until he settles between your legs. You blushed knowing you were already so wet for him. A smile pulls at his lips as he unbuttons your jeans and pulls them and your panties down your legs, throwing them somewhere across the room, leaving you in nothing but a bra. He kisses your thighs and presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing circles on it. You tangle a hand in his hair, and that smile suddenly fades as he is interrupted by you pulling his head away.

“You don’t have to. I can do all the work tonight. Wanna make you feel good.” You tell him.

“Baby, this does make me feel good.” He reminds you. It was true. As much as you adored having his face between your legs, he might actually love it even more.

Lowering his head again, he teasingly runs his tongue up and down your folds a few times before slowly pushing his tongue into you. You gasp at the pleasure and your thighs tense. As Matt’s pace increases, he snakes his arms under your thighs to hold you in place. You always tried your best not to squirm, but with this pretty boy between your legs making you feel this indescribably good, how could you not? It was a challenge to stay still, a challenge that you almost always failed. The way his hair slightly tickled against your stomach and thighs, the way he knew just how to perfectly curl his fingers and swirl his tongue inside of you, the way one touch could turn you into a whining, overstimulated mess. He knew exactly how to make you fall apart. Mumbled strings of curses and moans fell from your lips as Matt fucked his tongue into you. He adored how pretty you sounded for him. He loves that he’s the only one who gets to hear you like this. One arm still hooked around your leg, he frees the other hand and inserts a finger into you, pushing in and out a few times before adding another finger. You were a squirming moaning mess now, his long fingers buried deep inside of you making you feel like your whole body was on fire.

“That feel good?” He says looking up at you, fingers still pumping into you.

You prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him, those big brown doe eyes staring up at you lovingly, his lips swollen and wet. God, he looks so pretty like this. You can’t quite form words properly thanks to just how good he’s making you feel, so you just nod rapidly and lay back down for him. He lowers his head back down and starts sucking on your clit. It was too much. Your loud moans echoed through the apartment and you swore you were seeing stars. You were close, and with the way your legs began to shake, he knew it too. He drives his fingers into you even faster and the knot finally snaps. You reached your high, moaning uncontrollably and cumming all over his fingers. Just like how you had moaned around his cock, Matt moans against your pussy, knowing it makes you cum even harder. Pulling his mouth from your now swollen clit, he looks up at you smiling, still slowly pumping his fingers into you as you come down from your high. Pulling out of you, he licked up your folds one more time, which he always said was to clean up some of the mess you’d just made, but the truth is he just couldn’t get enough of the way you tasted. He pressed a gentle kiss to your pussy, then to each of your thighs, which were still slightly shaking. He sat up on his knees and stared at you for a moment, admiring how fucking gorgeous you looked like this. Breathing heavy, legs shaking, all for him.

“You okay, pretty girl?” He asked.

You gave a weak smile and slowly managed to pull yourself up to sit on your knees, now facing each other, though you were still feeling slightly too overstimulated to form words just yet. You reach out and grab his wrist, pulling his hand to your lips. You press a gentle kiss to his hand before taking his fingers in your mouth, sucking your own slick off of them. You look up at him with doe eyes as you pull his fingers from your mouth, him looking speechless with his jaw slightly dropped, staring at you in awe. You knew that would drive him crazy, and those suspicions were quickly confirmed as you glanced down and caught a glimpse of his growing erection. Still gripping his wrist in one hand, you run your other hand through his messy hair and pull him towards you for a kiss. It’s sloppy, fast paced, and desperate, both knowing you still needed more of each other. You eventually break the heated kiss, and pull just slightly away so your faces are mere inches apart, both still breathing heavy, and both with devilish smirks on your face.

“Lay down.” you whisper and he blushes. He was usually the more dominant one, but wow, did he ever love seeing you take control like this. He complies, laying down for you, his hands softly resting on your thighs as you straddle him, just enough that his tip pushes into you. The suspense and lack of contact is killing him, but he knows you may need a moment to adjust. He wants everything to feel good for both of you and would never start moving if you weren’t ready for him yet. Breathy moans escape both of you as you slowly sink down on his cock, him stretching you out so good. Every time your hips connect you swear you were made just for him, and he was made for you. Your bodies melted together so perfectly, like pieces falling right into place. You reach behind yourself to unclasp your bra, and Matt’s eyes widen at the sight. You toss the garment aside and push your hands down on his chest and start moving up and down on him, slowly at first, but pace gradually increasing.

“That feel good?” You ask him.

“Fuck.” He moans out breathily, “Feels so fucking good.” You shyly giggle and smile in response. There was nothing you loved more than making your boy feel nice.

“Let me hear you.”

You suddenly pick up the pace and he moaned, not holding back on the volume this time. God, his moans alone could make you finish. It was always difficult not to completely lose your mind the second he started making those pretty noises. You slide your hands from his chest and grip onto his shoulders to try and keep yourself somewhat grounded. You could feel yourself getting close already and dug your fingers even tighter into his shoulders. He may have fingernail imprints after this, but it’s nothing he’s not used to. You often left him marked up, hickeys, fingernail marks, scratches down his back. As one hand still rests on your thigh, the other slides up to play with your tits. You continue riding him at a fast pace and neither of you are even trying to contain your moans anymore. He adores you. He adores having you on top of him. Between the sight of your tits bouncing, your pretty face all fucked out, and being able to hear and watch the moans falling from your lips, he swears he died and went to heaven. You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He could never get enough of the sight of you on top of him, but now his eyes are fighting the urge to roll back from the pleasure. His grip on your boob loosens and his hands make their way to your hips. He twitches and you can tell that he’s close, and thankfully so, because you weren’t going to last much longer either. The forming knot in your stomach is tightening quickly and as soon as Matt grips your hips and starts thrusting up into you, you can’t hold it in anymore. Loud moans from both of you fill the room as you reach your highs together, cumming on his cock and feeling his release inside of you. You still your hips and lean down to kiss him, moaning against each other, riding out your highs with him still deep inside of you. You eventually break the kiss and slowly climb off of Matt’s lap, crashing down beside him.

“You did so good, baby.” He says and you both smile at each other, cheeks flushed, both of you still trying to catch your breath.

“You did so good.” You said, reminding him again just how proud you are.

“Let’s go get cleaned up, pretty girl.” He mumbles while slowly getting up.

He hesitates for just a moment to admire the sight of his cum dripping out of you, before gently scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to the bathroom. He runs a warm shower for you both, his skin feeling so nice on yours as you help clean each other up.

Afterwards, you collapse in bed together, quickly finding your place on his chest, snuggling up into him. He wraps his big arms around you, pulling you tightly against him. You lazily lift your head and press little kisses to his jaw, and he softly plays with your hair. You loved being so close to one another, feeling so warm and safe. Your heart felt full, wrapped up in one another, whispering sweet praises in each other's ear. He was all yours, and you were all his. So caught up in this moment, so desperately in love with each other.

#matt rempe fic #matt rempe x reader #matt rempe smut #nhl fanfiction #lina writes

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martinmuhl · 3 days

Text

• rivals?

pair: kate martin x reader

warnings: cussing, just some tension (?)

summary: you and kate have been rivals since high school and kate’s finally had enough

authors note: hi hi this is my first fic!! ill definitely improve but i had so much fun writing this and if you want, i could potentially make a part two? i’m not sure how to work tumblr yet so im still figuring it out lol but leave requests and ill try to write some!! :) i hope you enjoy!

“are you fucking kidding me?” kate spits at you as you’re guarding her. well, you were guarding her before you sent her flying to the ground. as she looks up at you and her teammates rush to her side, you roll your eyes.

“what’s the matter martin? can’t handle all this?” you shot back, stealing the ball away from her as your own teammates rush to you. your team is losing by 15 and you know there probably isn’t a chance you’d come back and win, but god did you hate kate martin and her smug ass.

you and kate had history. your high schools were rivals and everyone loved the rivalry between you two, so the both of you started to despise each other. but you both could also feel a different kind of tension too.

throughout the last few years when your college teams played, everyone always went crazy for the big rivalry between you and off the court, the both of you had to play nice in interviews. but on the court tonight felt different. you wanted her to feel the hatred you had towards her, but you also knew there was an unspoken tension and always hoped things would go further. little did you know, kate felt it as well.

your team ended up losing as you predicted as you headed back to the locker room when you heard someone shout your name. “y/n! you gonna talk to me or what?” you turn around and there she is, rushing up to you. the two of you stand in the middle of the hall, glancing around to make sure nobody was around to witness the animosity between you.

“you never want to talk after we play each other. what’s there to say now? good game? congrats? see you next game?” you reply, hands on your hips.

“what’s there to say? you shoved me to the ground. you’ve never done that before no matter how much you hate me.” she shot back, growing angrier.

“i was tired of looking at your smug face, knowing you were going to beat us. knowing you were going to beat me again..” you trail off, as this is yet another loss to the hawkeyes.

“god, you really hate me don’t you? because of what? our rivalry? that’s such bullshit. we’re both good players y/n and i’m done pretending to hate you.” she says, suddenly grabbing your arm and pulling you towards her now empty locker room.

you were shocked. she was pretending this whole time? but you could feel it. when you made it inside the locker room, you turn to her, “pretending? that’s real funny martin. then what has this been for you the whole time? you like being an asshole to me for fun to get me all riled up huh?” you take a step closer to her, seething with rage. she’s acted like an ass towards you for years now? and it’s been fake this whole time?

kate takes a step closer as well, smiling. this pisses you off, but you can feel your heart hammering and a heat grow in your stomach and between your legs. “you know i’ve always liked when you call me by my last name. i’ve never told you that because i was afraid you’d stop. y/n, this rivalry between us makes me better, but it’s never made me hate you. i have to admit though, i think it’s hot you went out of your way to target me during the game tonight.”

hot? now you were aching with anger, intensity and longing. you for sure hate her in some ways, but not enough to make you not want to grab a hold of her braid, slam her against the wall and do unspeakable things to her. you don’t though. you just take a step back, stunned. “i… i don’t know what to say..” you say, those being the only words you can form.

kate strides toward you, your back against the wall now. she’s inches from your mouth when she leans down to your ear. “don’t say anything. i do like being an asshole towards you. it turns me on seeing you get so pissed at me, especially during a game.”

you’re about to push her away, thinking she’s done toying with you. how can you believe a word she says? she’s not done though as she says in a low tone, “and you know what? i can handle all this.” she nods her head, gesturing to your body. “and one day, i will.”

she backs up suddenly then, a smirk on her lips. your heart pounds, the throbbing between your legs increasing by the second.

“your bus is probably waiting for you. i’ll see you in a few weeks, y/n. make sure you save some of that hatred for me for after the game. i’ll show you just how much i can handle it.” she winks and then she’s out the door, leaving you alone in the iowa locker room.

for once in your life, you couldn’t wait to play kate and iowa again. kate martin went from your biggest enemy to your biggest need in only hours.

#kate martin #las vegas aces #iowa wbb #kate martin fic

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pinkflower2003 · 16 hours

Text

My Honey

Words: 2k - Fernando Alonso x reader

Masterlist - Ask Berry🍓

The day started like any other. The sun was shining brightly over the Silverstone Circuit, the air filled with the familiar hum of engines and the buzz of excitement that only race day could bring. As Fernando Alonso's assistant, you were used to the hectic pace of the Formula 1 world. Your role was demanding, but you loved every minute of it. From managing his schedule to ensuring he had everything he needed, your job was to make sure Fernando could focus solely on racing.

Fernando was a legend in the sport, and working for him was a dream come true. Over time, your relationship with him had grown beyond that of a typical employer and employee. You had become close friends, sharing inside jokes and quiet moments of camaraderie. Fernando often treated you to expensive gifts and flowers, gestures you always assumed were his way of showing appreciation for your hard work. His light kisses on your cheek or the side of your lips had become a routine, or on your bare shoulder, a sweet habit you found endearing. The other drivers on the grid had even started referring to you both as the "mum and dad" of the F1 circuit, a nickname that always made you laugh.

You had now been working for Fernando for years, and whilst you didn't have the biggest age gap, your innocent personality made it easy for people to come close to you. You were the human epitome of sunshine, and whilst Fernando would have described himself as your rain, you would giggle and tell him he was the moon to your sun, he had seen some dark but he still shined even through the darkness.

No one questioned yours and Nandos relationship, whether you were dating or not, it didn't matter because Fernando would never let anyone say anything, when you hugged, when you would be sitting in the garage working on your phone, Fernando would be right next to you, his head tucked in your neck, trying to close his eyes and drift off for a moment. Sometimes there would be whispered, but you never noticed, brushing your fingers through your bosses hair, giving him a little kiss on the forehead, eyes not moving from your phone. Any eyes watching you would judgingly would move their eyes away the moment Fernando glared at them.

Today, as you bustled around the paddock, making sure everything was ready for the race, you noticed Fernando watching you from a distance, a fond smile playing on his lips. You waved at him, and he walked over, grinning at you. "Princesa, you look beautiful today." He said, giving you a hug, wrapping his arms around your waist. His head dipped down onto your shoulder as you returned the hug, wrapping your arms around his neck. Fernando turned his head, peppering light kisses on your bare neck that was made available by the fact you were wearing a summer dress today, one that Fernando had always loved seeing you in, and he only made that clearer by the way he tickled you in light pecks.

Being called by one of the Aston Martin team memembers, asking to talk to Fernando before a race, he groaned into your shoulder as you laughed, pushing his off of you. "Fernando, you need to go, stop clinging onto me like a baby."

"If anyone here is the baby, YN, it's you. You're my baby." He winked at you, as you rolled your eyes, pushing him in the direction of the person calling him over.

In the meantime, you found yourself still in the garage, chatting with one of the engineers. He was new to the team, charming and a bit flirty. You thought nothing of it, laughing at his jokes and enjoying the light-hearted banter. It was nice to make new friends, especially in the high-pressure environment of Formula 1.

Unbeknownst to you, Fernando had returned from his meeting and saw the exchange. His smile faded, replaced by a tight-lipped frown. He turned away, the pang of jealousy gnawing at him. He didn't understand why he felt this way—after all, you were just his assistant, right? But the sight of you laughing with someone else, someone who clearly had more than friendly intentions, stirred something deep within him.

Throughout the day, Fernando's mood grew darker. He barely spoke to you, his usual warmth replaced by a cold, distant demeanor. You tried to brush it off, but as the hours passed, you couldn't help but feel hurt. What had you done to upset him? His hugs, sweet whisperings, laughter and cheeky comments were gone and you didn't quite know what to do with yourself.

As the day wore on, Fernando's attitude didn't improve. You tried several times to approach him, offering a smile, a kind word, a small kiss to the cheek, but each attempt was met with a curt response or a stony silence. Your heart ached at the sudden shift in his behavior. He had always been so attentive, so caring. This new, cold version of him was hard to bear.

You found solace in your routine tasks, burying yourself in work to avoid thinking about the rift that had formed between you and Fernando. The other team members noticed the tension, casting worried glances in your direction but saying nothing. The dynamic in the garage was off, and it was affecting everyone. Your chest felt heavy everytime you looked at him, almost the feeling of separation anxiety, almost like your best friend being ripped away from you.

Before each race, Fernando would run up to you, begging you for a kiss on the cheek for good luck. This time, he walked straight past you.

The race didn't go well. Fernando struggled with his car, unable to find his rhythm. Every mistake, every missed opportunity seemed to fuel his frustration. When the checkered flag finally fell, he finished far lower than he had hoped. It was a devastating blow to his championship aspirations.

Back in the garage, you approached him cautiously, a comforting smile on your face. "Fernando, it's okay, honey. There will be other races. You'll bounce back, I know you will." You said, trying to almost go in for a hug, but he pushed past you.

But instead of the reassuring words you expected, Fernando lashed out. "Just leave me alone! You don't understand. You never do!" His words cut deep, tears welling up in your eyes. Without another word, you turned and fled, unable to bear the pain of his outburst.

As you walked away, the other drivers noticed your distress. Charles Leclerc and Lando Norris, two of the younger drivers who had always been protective of you, exchanged worried glances. They followed you to the hospitality suite, where you sat onto a sofa, sobbing quietly.

Charles sat down beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Hey, what happened?"

Through your tears, you nodded. "He was so angry… I don't know what I did wrong."

Knowing who you meant, Lando knelt in front of you, his expression serious. "You didn't do anything wrong. Sometimes, Fernando can be a bit… intense. But he cares about you, more than you realise."

"He wouldn't even give me a hug, he always gives me a hug, not matter what the result."

The drivers consoled you, their kindness a balm to your wounded heart. They knew Fernando better than most and understood his temper was often a mask for deeper emotions. As they comforted you, an idea began to form in their minds. They needed to talk to Fernando, to make him see the mistake he had made.

The hours passed slowly. You couldn't focus on anything, your mind replaying the harsh words Fernando had hurled at you. The sting of his rejection was fresh, and the sadness was overwhelming. You decided to call it a day and headed home early, your heart heavy.

That night, the other drivers held an impromptu meeting. They discussed Fernando's behavior and its impact on you. They all agreed something needed to be done. They couldn't stand to see you hurting, and they knew Fernando needed to understand the consequences of his actions.

Later that evening, Charles and Lando found Fernando brooding in his motorhome. He looked up as they entered, his expression a mix of anger and regret.

"You're a dick, you know that right."

Fernando's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

Lando stepped forward, his voice firm. "YN, you hurt her today, really hurt her. She went home in tears because of you. That beautiful, lovely girl, all she wanted was to give you a hug and you treated her like shit. After everything she does for you, how you treat each other, how she looks at you and that's how you treat her? Why?"

Fernando's face paled. "She was crying?"

Charles nodded. "Yes, and it's not just about today. We see the way you look at her, the way you treat her. It's obvious to everyone but her how much she means to you. You're going to loose her if you keep acting this way. Her heart can't take the way you acted today."

Fernando ran a hand through his hair, guilt gnawing at him. He had been blind to his own feelings, pushing them aside instead of acknowledging the truth. He cared for you deeply, more than he had allowed himself to admit.

The drivers laid out their plan. Fernando would apologise, but not just with words. He needed to show you how much he cared, how sorry he was for his outburst. It had to be special, something that would make you see how much you meant to him.

The next morning, you woke to a knock on your door. Opening it, you found a bouquet of 100 red roses and a note. "Meet me at the paddock. Your Honey."

With a mix of trepidation and hope, you made your way to the paddock. As you entered, you saw Fernando standing there, a nervous smile on his face. He had set up a small table with breakfast, flowers and drinks, a gesture so sweet it brought tears to your eyes.

"My love," he said softly, stepping towards you. "I wanted to apologise for yesterday. I was so out of line, and I hurt you. I'm so sorry." He cupped your face, "Will you ever forgive me, Princesa."

You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there. "Fernando, I don't understand. Why were you so angry? What did I do?"

He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "Because I was jealous. Seeing you with that engineer… it made me realise how much I care about you. More than just an assistant, more than just a friend. I was scared, and I took it out on you. That wasn't fair." He said, pressing kisses to your cheeks as a few tears rolled down them.

"I didn't mean to make you jealous, Nando, we were just talking." You said quietly, looking at your feet, not understanding why you felt guilty, it wasn't as though you were in a relationship, but he was still your boss and you didn't want to upset him.

He put his finger under your chin, lifting your head up. "You have nothing to be sorry for, I was being stupid because I was scared that I was going to loose you before I had the chance to tell you that I wanted to be the one to sweep you off your feet, I wanted to be the one to ask you on a date, not him."

"You want to ask me on a date?" You asked, eyes widening slightly as he nodded.

"I want everything with you, if you'll have me?" He said, as you nodded, not quite being able to get your words out.

He leaned in, he had seemed to feel easy about kissing you everywhere, the head, nose, cheek, neck, shoulder. But this time, he was going to kiss your lips, something you had dreamed of him doing, but now was about to come true. You leaned in further, connecting your lips for a long, deep kiss, unaware of the eyes watching you both.

At that moment, the other drivers appeared, cheering and clapping. "Mum and dad are back together!" Lando shouted, making everyone laugh.

You blushed, but couldn't help but smile. Fernando wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close. "Looks like we've got the whole grid rooting for us," he murmured as you both laughed, foreheads pressed against one anothers.

#formula 1 #formula one imagine #f1 imagine #ask berry🍓#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #fernando alonso fic #fernando alonso #fernando alonso x reader

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4unnyr0se · 2 days

Text

❥ tsukishima plays the waiting game

warnings: fem! reader, pre and post timeskip! tsukishima, tsuki gets slapped, reader is a sweetie, yamaguchi and hinata mentioned, tbh its mostly fluff

MDNI | No 18+ content here, I just don't want minors interacting with my blog

word count -> 785

part two

Kei Tsukishima wasn’t the best at showing affection at all. He only liked and respected Yamaguchi, but apart from that, there wasn’t really anyone he thought merited his honest and most sincere loyalty and trust. Sure, he respected Daichi when he was still in high school, but Daichi was his captain. It was different.

Then, you moved to Miyagi and enrolled in Karasuno in mid-April. You were placed in the same class as Yamaguchi and Tsukishima. Apparently, you had scored in the top 1% in your old high school, much to Tsukishima’s chagrin. He assumed you would be just another one of those academic bitches (like himself) who only cared about what directly affected them.

That was the first time Tsukishima was wrong.

You were sickeningly sweet, so much so that many people thought it was just an act. Tsukishima first thought this, too, that a wolf was hiding under that fluffy sheep wool. But no, there wasn’t. You were genuinely nice without ulterior motives, always volunteering to tutor students after class. You even helped Yamaguchi with his English vocabulary and grammar. He didn’t even have to ask! That’s how sweet you were, and Tsukishima hated that. Well, only at first.

He knew he liked you the second you snapped at him, calling him an asshole in front of the entire Karasuno team. He was practicing serves and missed completely, the volleyball slamming into your torso as you walked by the practice gym. Instead of apologizing, he blamed you for being in the way.

Instead of you apologizing for having dared to be in the way of a rouge volleyball, he was met with a cold smack in the face. Vulgar words left your mouth, your face heating up in anger as you called him out for being a stuck-up prick who didn’t care about anyone but himself (and maybe Yamaguchi.) The Karasuno team stood in shock as you screamed at him, your usual friendly and kind demeanor long forgotten. Hinata thought that Tsukishima was absolutely going to murder you, but instead, the lanky blonde just stood there with the tiniest blush on his cheeks. You called him out; you slapped him. The sweetest girl in Karasuno slapped him and humbled him in front of his teammates. You weren’t just an innocent little lamb, you bit. And Tsukishima liked that.

Tsukishima never acted on his urges in high school; he was too busy with class and volleyball and Hinata’s bullshit to worry about romantic relationships. But he caught himself sneaking glances at you throughout high school, no matter where he was. You two were always in the same class, weirdly enough. Graduation eventually came, and lo and behold, the two of you went to Sendai. He was on a semi-volleyball scholarship, and you had a full academic ride because you did. And to his horror, or perhaps delight, you both had the same entry-level statistics class.

He first noticed that you had a sense of personal style that he approved of. Tsukishima had only ever seen you in the Karasuno girl’s school uniform before, so it was a pleasant surprise to see you wearing a spaghetti strap tank top with a wool cardigan and loose jeans. It was…cute.

Tsukishima was taken aback when you walked up to him after class, bowing your head slightly to apologize for screaming at him when you were in high school. He smirked and accepted the apology, pushing your head down further.

“You also slapped me and called me an asshole, remember?”

You became flustered and started apologizing even more, tilting your head with sparkling eyes.

“I know, I’m really sorry. I don’t want any bad blood. How can I make this up to you?”

“Go on a date with me.” It came out of his lips so fast that Tsukishima didn’t have time to cover it up with a cough. How could he let that slip from his lips, he always thought before speaking. He thought before doing anything! He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, looking away in embarrassment. “Go on…just go on a date with me, please. I’ve liked you since high school, moron.”

You smiled and hugged him, squeezing his torso with all your might. Of course, Tsukishima thought this was adorable, he was a foot taller than you. “Of course, I’ll go on a date with you! Where?” You asked as you looked up, the prettiest smile plastered across your shining face. Fuck, Tsukishima was totally screwed. He’d give you the world right then and there if he wasn’t so proud.

“My dorm? Yamaguchi is out with friends for the weekend.”

“Yamaguchi has friends other than you? Damn, he really grew up.”

“Indeed,”

Tsukishima’s side of the dorm was immaculate. Spotless, organized, and decorated with dinosaur posters. It was cute and nerdy, making you smile. Maybe deep down inside, he wasn’t such a jerk.

part two??

#haikyuu #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #kei tsukishima #haikyuu fluff

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estapa-edwards · 1 day

Text

ENEMIES WITH BENEFITS - W. SMITH

paring: Will Smith x reader

word count: 3.4k

requested? no

warnings: use of y/n. slight smut? ig.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

The echo of blades slicing through the ice reverberated throughout the rink, mingling with the sharp clatter of pucks against sticks. Boston College's hockey arena was a hub of activity, with the men's and women's teams often sharing practice times. Will Smith, the star forward of the men's team, was in the midst of a grueling drill, his focus unwavering as he maneuvered the puck with skillful precision.

On the other side of the rink, Y/N Leonard was equally absorbed in her practice. As the captain of the women's team, she had a reputation to uphold. Her brother, Ryan Leonard, was a defenseman on the men's team and one of Will's closest friends. Despite their close connection, Y/N and Will's relationship was anything but friendly.

Their rivalry was legendary, a bitter clash of egos and competitive spirits that had brewed over the years. It was an open secret that they couldn't stand each other, always bickering and challenging each other on and off the ice. But beneath the surface of their animosity lay a secret even their closest friends didn't suspect—they were enemies with benefits.

--- --- ---

Their first encounter had been a clash of wills at a party during their freshman year. The backyard of one of the off-campus houses had been transformed into a mini-rink for the night, complete with floodlights and a rowdy audience. Y/N, confident and fierce, had seen Will's cocky grin as he dominated the makeshift rink. Fueled by competitive spirit and maybe a bit too much beer, she had skated up to him and issued a challenge.

"One-on-one, Smith. Unless you're scared to lose to a girl."

Will had laughed, a sound that grated on Y/N's nerves. "You're on, Leonard. Let's see what you've got."

The stakes were high—bragging rights for the rest of the year. The game had been intense, filled with taunts and near-miss goals, ending in a narrow victory for Will. Y/N had been livid, her competitive nature unable to accept defeat gracefully. Their enmity was sealed that night, a rivalry born from mutual respect and a burning desire to prove themselves.

But as the months passed, their rivalry took an unexpected turn. Their heated arguments would often end in moments of undeniable chemistry, and one fateful night after a particularly intense game, their anger had erupted into something else entirely.

--- --- ---

The game against Northeastern had been brutal, leaving both teams exhausted and irritable. The men's and women's teams had played back-to-back games, each fiercely contested and ending in narrow victories. The adrenaline was still pumping through Y/N's veins as she stormed into the locker room, replaying every missed opportunity and close call in her mind.

"Nice game, Leonard," Will's voice echoed through the empty hall, dripping with sarcasm as he followed her inside.

Y/N spun around, her eyes blazing. "What do you want, Smith? Here to gloat?"

Will smirked, stepping closer. "Just thought I'd congratulate you on not choking under pressure. For once."

The tension between them crackled like static electricity. Y/N's anger flared, her fists clenching at her sides. "You're such an asshole."

"Better than being a sore loser," Will shot back, his voice low and dangerous.

The words hung in the air, their breaths coming in short, heated bursts. Without thinking, Y/N closed the distance between them, her anger morphing into something else entirely. Their eyes locked, and in that moment, all the pent-up frustration and desire boiled over.

Y/N grabbed Will's jersey, yanking him down to her level. Their lips crashed together, the kiss fierce and demanding. Will responded instantly, his hands gripping her waist as he backed her against the lockers. The cold metal pressed into her back, a stark contrast to the heat of their kiss.

It was a clash of wills, their tongues battling for dominance as they gave in to the primal urge that had been simmering beneath the surface for months. Will's hands roamed over Y/N's body, his touch igniting a fire within her that she couldn't deny. She tugged at his jersey, needing to feel his skin against hers.

They broke apart briefly, gasping for air. Y/N's eyes were wild, her lips swollen from the intensity of their kiss. "This doesn't mean anything," she panted, her voice trembling with a mix of desire and defiance.

"Right," Will agreed, his voice equally breathless. "Just blowing off steam."

Their mouths collided again, more urgent this time. Y/N's hands found the hem of Will's jersey, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. Her fingers traced the hard planes of his chest, savoring the feel of his muscles tensing under her touch.

Will's hands were equally busy, sliding under her jersey and up her back, pulling her closer. Their bodies pressed together, the heat between them almost unbearable. Y/N's head spun with the intensity of their connection, every nerve ending on fire.

Somehow, they managed to shed the rest of their clothes, their desire too overwhelming to care about the cold or the hard floor beneath them. Will's hands were everywhere, exploring every inch of her skin as if memorizing it. Y/N responded in kind, her nails digging into his back, leaving marks in their wake.

When Will finally entered her, it was like a dam breaking. The sensation was almost too much, a mix of pleasure and pain that left her gasping. They moved together in a frantic rhythm, their bodies finding a natural sync despite their previous animosity.

It was raw, intense, and utterly consuming. Y/N had never felt anything like it, every touch, every thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through her. She clung to Will, her fingers tangled in his hair, as they reached the peak together.

In the aftermath, they lay tangled on the cold floor, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the locker room. Y/N's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions—desire, confusion, and a lingering sense of defiance.

Will broke the silence first, his voice surprisingly gentle. "This changes nothing, you know."

Y/N nodded, her resolve hardening. "I know. We're still enemies."

"Right," he agreed, but there was a hint of something softer in his eyes as he looked at her.

As they dressed in silence, the reality of what had just happened began to sink in. They had crossed a line, one that could never be uncrossed.

--- --- ---

Sneaking around had become second nature to them. They'd find isolated corners of the rink or meet in the early hours of the morning when the campus was quiet. Despite their constant bickering, they couldn't deny the magnetic pull between them.

Their secret meetings were a mix of passion and frustration, each encounter leaving them more confused and conflicted. They were enemies, rivals on and off the ice, but in those stolen moments, they were something else entirely.

One night, after a particularly grueling practice, Y/N received a text from Will.

Will: Meet me at the old equipment room. Midnight.

Y/N's heart raced. She knew she should ignore him, and should put an end to this dangerous game they were playing. But something about Will drew her in, and she found herself unable to resist.

The old equipment room was tucked away in a forgotten corner of the arena. It was their sanctuary, a place where they could be together without prying eyes. Y/N slipped inside, her breath visible in the cold air. Will was already there, leaning against a stack of crates.

"You took your time," he teased, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Had to make sure no one followed me," Y/N retorted, closing the door behind her.

Will's eyes softened as he approached her. "You know, we don't have to keep doing this."

Y/N sighed, her resolve wavering. "I know. But... I can't stay away."

"Neither can I," Will admitted, pulling her into his arms.

Their kisses were desperate, fueled by the fear of being discovered and the intensity of their hidden emotions.

--- --- ---

As the season progressed, tensions on and off the ice began to mount. Boston College was preparing for a series of critical games that would determine their standings in the league. The pressure was immense, and both the men's and women's teams were feeling the strain.

Y/N and Will's clandestine relationship became increasingly difficult to maintain. The late-night rendezvous and stolen glances were no longer enough. Their teammates began to notice the tension between them, though no one suspected the true nature of their interactions.

One evening, after a particularly grueling practice, Ryan confronted Y/N. "You've been acting weird lately. Is everything okay?"

Y/N hesitated, unsure how to respond. "Just stressed about the games. It's nothing."

Ryan frowned, not entirely convinced. "If you say so. Just remember, you can talk to me about anything."

Y/N forced a smile. "Thanks, Ry."

Later that night, Y/N received a text from Will.

Will: We need to talk. Meet me at the equipment room.

As Y/N made her way down the dimly lit hallways of the arena, her nerves grew. She wasn't sure why she felt so anxious. This was supposed to be just another one of their secret meetings, another chance to lose themselves in the intensity of their connection. But something about Will's message had set her on edge.

She pushed open the door to the old equipment room, her breath hitching as she saw Will standing there, his face shadowed by the dim light. His expression was serious, almost pained, and her heart sank.

"We need to talk," he said, his voice heavy with emotion.

Y/N took a tentative step closer, her eyes searching his. "What is it, Will? What's wrong?"

Will took a deep breath, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity that made her stomach twist. "We need to end this, Y/N. We can't keep doing this."

The words hit her like a punch to the gut, leaving her reeling. "What are you talking about? Why?"

Will ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. "This... whatever this is, it's messing with our heads. We can't focus on the game, and it's only going to get worse. We need to stop seeing each other. For good."

Y/N felt a surge of confusion and anger. "So that's it? You're just going to walk away?"

"It's not that simple," Will said, his voice strained. "I care about you, Y/N. But this is too much. We're hurting ourselves and our teams. We have to think about what's best for everyone."

Tears welled in Y/N's eyes, her mind racing. "You think ending things will make everything better? What about us?"

Will's expression softened, a flicker of pain crossing his features. "There is no 'us,' Y/N. We're enemies, remember? We can't pretend this is something it's not."

Y/N's anger flared, her heart aching with a mix of hurt and betrayal. "You think I don't know that? But you can't just turn off your feelings like a switch, Will. This isn't just about the game."

"I know," Will whispered, his voice breaking. "But it's the only way."

They stood there in silence, the weight of his words hanging between them. Y/N's mind was a whirlwind of emotions, each one more confusing than the last. She wanted to scream, to fight, to make him see that what they had was real. But the look in his eyes told her that he had already made up his mind.

"Fine," she said, her voice trembling. "If that's what you want."

Will nodded, his expression resigned. "It's for the best."

Without another word, Y/N turned and walked away, her heart heavy with the weight of their decision. She didn't look back, couldn't bear to see the finality in his eyes.

--- --- ---

The days that followed were a painful blur for Y/N. Every time she and Will saw each other, the air between them was thick with unresolved tension. Their once heated banter was replaced by uncomfortable silence and awkward glances. It was clear to everyone around them that something was off.

During practice, Y/N could feel the weight of her teammates' curious eyes on her. They whispered among themselves, speculating about the sudden change in her demeanor. Her game was affected too—her usual precision and focus were marred by hesitation and distraction.

At one point, her coach pulled her aside. "Y/N, your head's not in the game. What's going on?"

"It's nothing, Coach," she lied, forcing a smile. "Just... personal stuff."

The coach gave her a knowing look but didn't press further. "Get it together, Leonard. We need you at your best."

Ryan, however, was not so easily deterred. He had noticed the tension between Y/N and Will and couldn't shake the feeling that something significant had happened. After a particularly tense practice, he cornered her in the locker room.

"Y/N, what's going on with you and Will?" Ryan asked, his voice low but insistent. "You two have been acting weird for days."

Y/N sighed, knowing she couldn't keep lying to him. "Ryan, it's complicated. Can we talk about it later?"

"No," Ryan said firmly. "We talk about it now. You're my sister, and I need to know what's going on."

Y/N took a deep breath, her eyes filling with tears. "Will and I... we were seeing each other. But it's over now."

Ryan's eyes widened in surprise. "You and Will? Why didn't you tell me?"

"We didn't want anyone to know," Y/N admitted. "It was complicated, and we thought we could handle it. But it all fell apart."

Ryan's expression softened, his anger melting into concern. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I had no idea. Are you okay?"

"No," Y/N said, her voice breaking. "I'm not okay. It's been really hard."

Ryan pulled her into a hug, his arms wrapping around her protectively. "I'm here for you, Y/N. We'll get through this together."

--- --- ---

The tension between Ryan and Will simmered beneath the surface, threatening to boil over with each passing day. Ryan couldn't shake the anger that burned inside him, the betrayal he felt on behalf of his little sister.

After practice one evening, Ryan approached Will, his expression dark and stormy.

"We need to talk," Ryan said, his voice low but charged with emotion.

Will tensed, bracing himself for the confrontation he had been dreading. He knew he had hurt Y/N, but facing her brother's wrath was a whole new level of guilt.

"Look, Ryan, I know you're angry," Will began, his voice strained. "But you have to understand..."

"Understand what, Will?" Ryan interrupted, his voice rising with frustration. "That you broke my sister's heart?"

Will winced at the accusation, the weight of his actions pressing down on him like a ton of bricks. "I never meant to hurt her, Ryan. I care about her more than anything."

"Then why did you end things?" Ryan demanded, his eyes flashing with anger. "If you care about her, why did you walk away?"

Will struggled to find the right words, his guilt and remorse threatening to choke him. "It's complicated, Ryan. We were hurting each other, and I thought it was for the best."

"For the best?" Ryan scoffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You think breaking her heart was for the best?"

Will shook his head, his own frustration mounting. "I don't know, okay? I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was protecting her."

"Protecting her?" Ryan repeated, his incredulity turning to rage. "From what, exactly? From you?"

The accusation hit Will like a punch to the gut, leaving him reeling with guilt and shame. He had thought he was doing what was best for Y/N, but now he saw the pain he had caused, the damage he had inflicted on the woman he cared about more than anything.

"I screwed up, okay?" Will admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "I never should have let things get this far. I never should have hurt her."

Ryan's anger softened, replaced by a flicker of sympathy. "You hurt her, Will. But you can still fix it. You can still make things right."

Will nodded, determination burning in his eyes. "I will. I'll do whatever it takes to make things right with Y/N."

Ryan studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. "You better, Will.”

With that, Ryan turned and walked away, leaving Will alone with his thoughts and his guilt.

--- --- ---

After yet another practice filled with tense interactions and awkward silences, Will knew he couldn't continue to avoid confronting Y/N. He needed to talk to her, to try to make things right between them, even if it meant facing her anger head-on.

As the rest of the team filed out of the locker room, Will lingered behind, waiting for the opportune moment to approach Y/N. When the room finally emptied, he took a deep breath and approached her, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Y/N, can we talk?" Will asked, his voice tentative.

Y/N's expression hardened, her eyes flashing with anger. "I don't have anything to say to you, Will."

Will swallowed nervously, steeling himself for the confrontation that was about to unfold. "Please, just hear me out. I know I messed up, but I want to make things right."

Y/N crossed her arms over her chest, her expression skeptical. "And how do you plan on doing that?"

Will took a step closer, his eyes pleading. "By talking. By listening. By being honest with each other."

Y/N scoffed, her anger boiling over. "Honest? Like you were honest with me when you ended things out of nowhere?"

Will winced at the accusation, the guilt washing over him like a tidal wave. "I know I hurt you, Y/N. I never meant to. I was just... scared. Scared of what we were becoming, of how much I cared about you."

Y/N's anger softened slightly, replaced by a flicker of hurt. "So you decided to end things without even talking to me about it?"

"I know it was a mistake," Will admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "I was wrong to push you away like that. I should have talked to you, tried to work through our issues together."

Y/N's walls began to crumble, her anger giving way to vulnerability. "I miss you, Will. I miss us."

Will reached out tentatively, his hand brushing against hers. "I miss you too, Y/N. More than you'll ever know."

For a moment, they stood there in silence, the weight of their emotions hanging between them like a heavy fog. Then, slowly, hesitantly, Y/N stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Will and burying her face in his chest.

"I'm sorry," Will whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I'm so sorry, Y/N."

Y/N nodded, her own tears mingling with his. "I forgive you, Will. But we have a lot of work to do if we're going to make this right."

Will nodded, his heart lighter than it had been in weeks. "I know. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes."

--- --- ---

A few months had passed, and the day had finally arrived—the culmination of years of hard work, dedication, and sacrifice. As Will stood before the crowd gathered at the press conference, a sense of pride and accomplishment washed over him.

Surrounded by his teammates, coaches, and family, Will signed the three-year entry-level contract with the San Jose Sharks, officially beginning the next chapter of his hockey career.

But amidst the excitement and celebration, there was one person who stood out above all others—Y/N.

She stood by Will's side throughout the entire press conference, her hand clasped tightly in his, her eyes filled with pride and love.

As Will put pen to paper, signing his name on the dotted line, Y/N couldn't help but feel a swell of emotion. She had watched him overcome countless obstacles and setbacks, always pushing himself to be the best player he could be.

And now, as he embarked on this new journey with the San Jose Sharks, she knew that she would be there every step of the way, cheering him on from the sidelines, supporting him through the highs and lows of professional hockey.

As the cameras flashed and the reporters clamored for interviews, Y/N squeezed Will's hand, a silent promise passing between them. No matter where this new chapter took them, they would face it together, hand in hand, hearts intertwined.

this is all over the place oh well.

#will smith hockey #will smith #hockey imagine #boston college #hockey #nhl x reader #san jose sharks #sharks

77 notes · View notes

patscorner · 6 hours

Note

could u write kate martin x reader where they’re huge basketball rivals who end up falling in love?? maybe it starts out as like a secret relationship and then the media finds out and goes crazy abt it!!

also i love love love ur writing sm

Absolutely! Love you!

Rivals

Summary: The Gophers and Iowa have a generational rivalry with each other, tensions dating back years. What happens when one of Iowa's top players injures you?

wc: 3,248

Contains: slightly suggestive, mentions of blood, insta posts at the bottom, not proofread well, hella long

______________________________

The Minnesota Gophers vs. the Iowa Hawkeyes was one of the oldest rivalries in women’s college basketball history. Whether it’s overly aggressive plays, double technicals every couple minutes, and shoves being exchanged. It’s tradition at this point to have one or two chippy moments at one of these games.

So it’s no surprise when tonight is no different. It’s tied, 83-83 in the third quarter with two minutes and thirty-six seconds left. The air is so filled with tension, it was like a heavy cloud of negativity loomed over both teams. Patience was thin on both benches, and everyone, even the people watching from home could feel it.

You’d been guarding Kate all night, and to say it was a challenge would be an understatement. She was agile and quick on her feet, and in some cases, she just managed to slip through your defensive skills. But, you were able to keep up with her, following and predicting her moves closely. She got a couple shots on you, but you didn’t let that stir your determination.

You were on your A game offensively tonight, too. Whether it was weaving through players with ease, calling good screens, or taking risky threes, you were doing it all.

It was paying off, too. Until the beginning of the fourth quarter. The game had just resumed, you guarding Kate once more. She’d been more physical, which you weren’t expecting, but you adapted, quickly matching her energy.

You had gotten the offensive rebound, running back to the Iowa basket, Kate hot on your tail. You get into position to make a layup, but Kate is right there to block your shot. She smacks the ball, but her momentum sends her body into yours, sending you flying to the ground.

You crash into the base of the basketball hoop, back hitting the floor first, followed by your head smacking into the stanchion. You squeal loudly, but the crowd's deafening cheers drowned out any noises you could’ve made. You’d made the layup, but that was the least of your concerns.

You’re grabbing your head, rolling over on your side, trying to find a position that relieves some of the pounding that has started in your head. Kate immediately goes to check on you, but that doesn’t last long when your teammates push her out of the way to get to you. One of your teammates starts yelling at Kate, who yells back, and the referee's whistle pierces through the air, signaling technicals for both players.

You’re still curled up under the basketball hoop, holding the back of your head, when you feel a warm liquid. You pull your hand away, and your eyes widen as you stare at your crimson cover palm.

Everyone who knows you, knows you hate blood. The red liquid sends a wave of nausea to your already banged up head, and you close your eyes to avoid the tears falling, and to relieve some of the tension that the lights were causing. The crowd silences as the camera shows you looking at your hand in horror.

Your breathing picks up as you continue to look at your hand. Tears fall from your eyes as you start to hyperventilate, unaware that eventually the lack of oxygen would cause you to lose consciousness.

You're only out for about 30 seconds, but that was more than enough time for you to be surrounded. You wake up to the athletic training staff, your teammates, and the coaching staff around you. You're running on autopilot, so the first thing you try to do is sit up, which doesn’t end too well for you. You attempt to lift your head off the ground, but a sharp pain shoots down your back, causing you to gasp loudly.

“Shh-stay still, honey.” one staff member assures you. You groan in response, feeling multiple hands on you at once. You don’t say anything as you try to roll over on your stomach and attempt to relieve the pain in your back. You have a pounding headache and have no idea what’s going on or what happened.

“You gotta stop moving. The ambulance is on the way.” You freeze at these words.

Ambulance?

You have no idea what happened but all you know is that you have a basketball game to play. "W-we gotta play.” You croak out, looking at your teammates, tears brimming your eyes. You watch through blurry eyes as they shake their heads.

“No, kid, I think you're done for the night."

"No, no, n-no we gotta play- we're so close." You whimper out shakily. A couple of your teammates turn their heads, your statement making an already emotional moment even more heart-wrecking.

You feel someone grab your hand and rub it soothingly, attempting to distract you from the increasing pain in your spine. The Iowa bench was kneeling out of respect, because rivals or not, they weren't fucking monsters.

You sigh, accepting that you were done for the night and probably a while after. “What happened?” You whispered to no one in particular. You felt someone adjust the towels that you didn’t realize were under your head. The once white towels were colored now, and you felt sympathy for whoever had to clean them after.

“You fell kid, but you’re gonna be okay.” one of your teammates says. You hum in response.

All you could do is pray that she was right.

The crowd gave you a standing ovation as you were put on the stretcher and wheeled into the back of the ambulance. Despite their attempts to keep you awake, the loss of blood made it hard for you to keep your eyes open.

On the way to the hospital, they check your memory, which is pretty good, all except the moments leading up to the incident. All you remember is the girl that ran into you. When they get you to the hospital, they run their tests and find out that you had a pretty bad concussion, along with a crack in your spine. It’s safe to say you were done for the season.

Eventually, you were released, immediately starting physical therapy and, put in crutches and given a body wrap. You finally check your phone, and you see thousands of overwhelming messages from friends, family, and teammates. You respond to a couple of them, informing them that you were okay before going to instagram. Normally, you’d stay off of social media, but you needed something to distract yourself.

You’ve got hundreds of notifications on there, too, but one stands out the most.

A message from @katemartin

Just wanted to sincerely apologize for knocking you down the other night, I hope you know it wasn’t intentional. I don’t know if you’ll even read this, but you’re in my thoughts and prayers. Opponents or not, you’re a good player, and it’s devastating to see you injured. Get well soon.

Your heart swells at the message, as tears start to brim your eyes. You don’t know what to say, because this has never happened to you before. Usually, when someone gets injured, they get a pat on the back, and that’s it. But she went out of her way to message you.

You heart her message before typing a message back to her.

Thank you for the prayers, I know it wasn’t intentional, I watched the playback. I appreciate the message.

After you click send, you decide to leave it and begin scrolling through your feed. Nothing interesting comes up until you see Kate doing a post-game press conference. She’s asked her thoughts on the collision between you two.

“It was a basketball play. I had no intention of slamming into her like that. She’s an amazing player, like I seriously look up to her. The way she carries herself and the way she plays, that’s an example I think a lot of people should learn from.” she takes a deep, shaky breath, clearly trying to keep her composure. It breaks your heart to see her this shaken up about you.

“I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for being a part of the reason she’s not playing. Everyone deserves to do the things they love, and it’s not fair that I took that from her. Our teams may be hella competitive rivals, but despite that, this is a sisterhood. We aren't friends, but never would I ever wanna hurt her like that. It was an accident.” Kate’s voice cracks at the end, and her teammate rubs her back as she looks down.

“It was an honor to play with her, and I wish her the best.” she finishes, before the clip ends.

You’re in tears by the end of it, and you just want to give her a giant hug, tell her that you forgive her, and that you’ll be back on the court in no time. But instead, you stick with responding to her message she had just sent you.

How are you doing?

It’s been 4 months since your injury, and you’ve been talking to Kate non-stop. You and her had been texting back and forth, calling, and falling asleep on facetime. A lot of the time was talking about nothing in particular, with a couple updates as to where you are in your recovery.

You couldn’t help but feel your heart tighten when you talk to her. It’s like a breath of fresh air. Even though you were barely around her, you felt like you were missing something whenever you two weren’t having a conversation. You knew you were falling and falling hard. Little did you know, Kate was falling just the same.

Kate couldn't sleep well to begin with, but now she definitely couldn't sleep without talking to you. She couldn't go a minute without thinking about what you were doing, what you were wearing, what you were thinking. It got so bad that her teammates were practically begging her to ask this mystery girl out. Her daydreams were distracting her from her practices, the way she played in games, and her schoolwork.

Finally, (after Caitlin went on a ten minute rant about how painfully in love she was), Kate found the confidence to ask you out on a phone call. She was nervous and stuttering over her words, her face painted a beautiful pink.

"Maybe we could hang out sometime, like by ourselves. Like we could go to like the movies-or maybe out to eat somewhere. Or-or not, y'know we could hang out with other people, like our teammates, like not together because I don't think they like each other very much, but we could like not tell them, or we could tell them b-"

You cut off her rambling with a laugh, finding her anxiousness adorable. "Kate 'Money' Martin are you asking me out?" You ask, raising your eyebrows teasingly.

You watch as her face reddens even more, her teeth capturing her bottom as she playfully rolls her eyes at your mocking tone. "Y'know what, never mind. I take it back." She smiles at you.

"Oh, no, no, you got me locked in now." You say smiling softly back at her.

"Is that a yes…?" Kate asked in a joking manner, but you could sense a serious undertone to it.

You bite your lip lightly, staring at the blonde on your phone screen.

"Whatcha got in mind?"

Kate made the six hour drive to Minnesota that Saturday after booking a hotel room not far from campus. As much as you would've liked her to stay with you, you knew your dorm mates wouldn't approve of having her in your shared space. They knew you were talking to someone, but you were very cautious about when you talked to Kate, often doing it fairly late into the night when they were asleep or not home. You thought you were doing a good job, as they never brought up anything about it.

Either way, to not draw attention, you both decided it'd be best if you went super late at night, knowing that the second the public finds out Kate was in Minnesota, rumors would fly, and the media would go crazy. So, you came up with a shifty excuse to be out of the house at three a.m. on a random Saturday morning. You had no idea what Kate had set up, you just knew that you were meeting her at a random park near campus.

Turns out Kate had the date very planned out, from how long it would take to get from point A to point B, to where'd you'd be sitting. She took you to the beach, and even though it was dark, the sounds of the water crashing onto shore was enough for you.

Then she paid, against your will, for sushi. You went into the restaurant and you both sat in the car and ate your meal. Conversations flow smoothly all night, without a single moment of uncomfortable silence. The evening was filled with laughter and lighthearted banter, the both of you losing track of time until the sun started to bleed into the night sky.

You both were tired, tangled in the bed of Kate's truck, basking in each other's company. You were so comfortable, and you never wanted this moment to end. Kate was different from anybody else you'd ever met before. Even though this was the first time you'd even hung out with her, you wanted nothing more than to hold her forever. And to make her yours.

"What're you thinkin' about?" She asked, breaking the silence and pulling you from your thoughts. You're laying on her chest, her arms wrapped securely around your waist, holding you close.

You look up at her and find her gaze already in you. "The sun's coming up." You whispered, licking your lips. Her eyes trail down to them before finding their way back to your eyes. The way she looks at you almost makes you fold right then and there.

"Hmm." Kate responded as her eyes made their way back down to your lips and stayed there. After a moment, you brought your hand up to her cheek to direct her eyes back to yours. You smile as her face turns a bright shade of red.

"You're so pretty." She whispers as she seemingly examines your face. Now it's your turn to blush.

It almost makes you angry, the urge to kiss her lips. You want nothing more than to pour all your words into one kiss.

Fuck it.

You push your lips to hers, passionately expressing your feelings for her wordlessly. It takes her a second to process what's going on, but as soon as she does, she's melting under your touch. She's like putty in the palm of your hand at this point.

You adjust your body, lifting yourself so that the both of you are facing each other. You wrap your arm around her waist, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss. Your moment catches Kate off guard, causing her to moan lightly. You smile before pulling away.

Pants fill the air as you both attempt to catch your breath, letting the tension linger in the air. "Holy shit." Kate lets out a breathy laugh.

You chuckle with her, rubbing her waist absent-mindedly.

She rolls over back on her back, staring at the sky, you mimic her actions, sighing deeply. You can sense that the end of your date is near as the sun rises.

"I have to go." Kate whispers. You nod, reaching down and intertwining your fingers. You were right.

Over the next five months, you and Kate took turns seeing each other in the same way, at night, mostly ending up with you two touching each other (in more than one way). It was starting to get exhausting to hide it from your teammates, so eventually, Kate let it slip, and they weren't surprised. They already had their suspicions since the injury.

You weren't too pleased when she told you she'd revealed your secrets, but you were relieved that they didn't hate you. It gave you enough confidence to comfortably tell your team, who, like the Iowa team, wasn't surprised or upset at the idea of you and Kate being together.

It lifted a huge weight off your guys' chest, feeling better about leaving at two or three in the morning. The longer your relationship went on, the more comfortable you both got.

This was both good and bad, as you fell more in love with each other every day. But it also came with the desire to see each other more, which led to you both growing impatient and making sloppy mistakes. It started with you accidentally posting a picture of you holding Kate's hand on your public story instead of your close friends, like you had intended. Even though you couldn't see her face, you knew some people would be able to figure who it was, plus, at that point, it was an early relationship, and neither of you were ready for that kind of attention. Luckily, you deleted it before anyone could see it, but it was too close of a call for your liking.

Another slip-up happened a month later, where you posted a picture in Kate's hoodie, but you were able to pretend that you both happened to have the same hoodie.

The last straw, though, was Kate being recognized by a fan while pumping gas. You ducked down in the trunk as you watched the fan approach her and ask for an autograph and picture, which she agreed to.

The fan had a short conversation with her, which you later found out they had asked about why Kate was in Minnesota. The best Kate could come up with was that she was 'visiting a friend', which you teased her about her lack of an answer.

The fan posted about Kate being in Minnesota and why, and it shocked the internet. Some fans had done a deep dive and found dots that connected you to Kate, such as the hoodie picture. At this point, you both were tired of hiding, tired of not being able to go out during the daylight or support each other during games.

So you both decided it was time to let the people know.

Yourusername

liked by katemartin and 294,210 others

yourusername: Find your person. They make life worth living

user| oh??

user| mystery woman?

user| I knew it

-> user| I feel like we all know who this is at this point

katemartin

liked by yourusername and 968,148 others

katemartin: You're my end and my beginning, even when I lose, I'm winning

user| no wait a minute

user| pov: the dots are connecting

user| my fav enemies to lovers story

caitlinclark22| took you long enough 🙄

-> yourusername| something you'd like to share with the class Martin??

-> katemartin| @caitlinclark22 I hate you.

->katemartin| @yourusername … no…

-> caitlinclark22| @katemartin you should be thanking me 🤗(pay up)

-> user| Caitlin in the comments has me cackling

user| Caitlin instigated is something I didn't know I needed

-> caitlinclark22| I did not instigate… just gave a gentle shove

-> katemartin| @caitlinclark22 I will gently shove you off a cliff 😍😄

->caitlinclark22| awww ur so cute😗

______________________________

taglist: @wintersstan @bueckerslover @lilia22hicks @fake-intelligences @girlokwhatever

#kate martin x fem reader #kate martin x reader #kate martin #kate martin fanfic #kate martin fic #kate martin fluff #iowa wbb #iowa hawkeyes #iowa women’s basketball #university of iowa #ncaa wbb #wbb #wcbb x reader #wcbb

83 notes · View notes

formulawolff · 13 hours

Text

xii. the final verdict - t.w.

pairing: female!driver x toto wolff

word count: 3.3k

warnings: smutttttt, two idiots in love, YEARNING, LOTS OF YEARNING, lewis being a little shit, george is lowkey dumb sometimes, slightttttt use of daddy dom!kink, cursing, angst, poorly translated german, yadayadayada

prev. | next.

night falls over the track, swathing it with a blanket of darkness. yet, three shadows make their way towards a crisp white building, a comfortable silence settling in. one of the figures carries a woman in his arms, her head nestled in his shoulder.

“how are you able to carry her like that?”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“it’s not like she’s very heavy, george,” toto shrugs, motioning his head towards the door, “lewis, get the door for me, will you? it should be unlocked.”

“she leaves it unlocked?” lewis raises a brow, “that’s not very safe.”

“she usually leaves it unlocked this time of night,” toto huffs, “she probably did it out of habit.”

“is this the time you usually come over?” george inquires, propping the door open.

“so many questions,” toto shakes his head, “and quiet down, will you?”

“yeah george,” lewis sticks a tongue out at his teammate, “the wittle baby is sweeping!”

“she’s not a baby,” toto growls, strolling down that familiar hallway, “stay here for a minute. i’m going to get her in bed.”

“aye, aye, captain,” lewis salutes the team principal, “we’ll stay right here.”

as the team principal disappears behind her bedroom door, lewis shifts, turning to george, “george. he’s not falling in love. he loves that girl.”

“as if that wasn’t already obvious the second he scooped her up into his arms,” folding his arms across his chest, george surveyed the space, taking in the minimal decor and plain furniture, “no wonder she wants him over all the time. if i was basically living in a space like this, i would lose my mind.”

“should we help her decorate it?” lewis pauses, crossing over to the kitchenette. opening a few of the cupboards, a frown forms, “she doesn’t even have very many snacks. so much for making this a comfortable space. it’s not very homey.”

“that’s what i was saying,” george mutters, “we should mention something to toto. maybe he’ll take her shopping.”

“maybe it’s a racing strategy? like she needs a blank space to clear her mind?” lewis inspects the fridge, lip curling in disgust, “to make things worse, she likes red bull!”

“oh god,” george shudders, “throw it out! throw it–”

“what the fuck do you think you two are doing?”

the drivers freeze as toto stands before them, eyes narrowed into mere slits, the toe of his foot tapping against the floor. lewis glances over at george, the drivers sharing a panicked look as he clears his throat.

“umm nothing!”

“right,” toto clicks his tongue, strolling towards the couch. he sits, letting out a shaky sigh as his head rolls back, fingers massaging his temples, “don’t worry. she has a shipment coming in soon with some decor. i ordered some things for the place. like you both said, i think she needs to make this a little more cozy.”

“you heard all of that?” lewis shifts uneasily, rubbing the back of his neck.

“i heard everything,” toto tsks, “i think she’s okay. thank you both, for your help tonight. however, you do realize that she is a grown woman, right? you don’t have to play babysitter for me.”

“i was just a bit worried about you know?” lewis fiddles with a loose thread on his shirt, “i know she’s a grown adult, but i was just a bit nervous of what could have happened if she got too fucked up and said something she shouldn’t have.”

hmmm. lewis did have a point there.

“i just wanted to make sure she got home safely,” george’s voice is low, “if she’s going to be my future teammate, i want to make sure she’s taking care of herself.”

at george’s statement, toto feels a smile form on his lips, “how kind of you, george. i appreciate that.”

“do you think she’ll sign with mercedes?”

the inquiry is one that had been on toto’s mind frequently, more and more apparent as they got closer and closer to miami. now, it was all over. the lights on the track were shut off, the cleanup crew was well past finished, and the stands were completely empty.

and toto needed an answer.

well, not now. not in her current state.

he would have to wait until morning, when her mind was clear and senses alert.

as of now, toto was only about seventy-five percent sure she would say yes. that she would depart from williams, take his hand, and follow him to mercedes.

that twenty-five percent is what worried him.

with the current momentum of williams, and the relationships she had established with the team, he knew it would be hard to leave. it would be hard to say goodbye to james, the one who believed in her, bringing her in when the other teams said no. it would be even more difficult to leave alex, as he was well aware of their sibling-like friendship.

but the heart wants what it wants. right?

surely she would pick him.

surely.

“i’m not sure,” toto murmurs, running a hand through his hair, “she has a lot of emotional attachment to williams.”

“but she loves you.”

she loves you.

at those words, a warm, cozy sensation rippled in his heart, sending waves of bliss crashing all over. yet, there was a twinge of disbelief.

there was no way a woman like her loved a man like him.

a recently divorced father, who happened to be one of the busiest men on earth. he was constantly on the go. he was emotionally available at times, his exterior cold and brittle, like ice. he was too cruel. too matter-of-fact. the travel would be too much for her. she hated traveling, anyway. the jet lag, the sleepless flights, the perpetual feeling of not having a place to call home.

yet, toto ached to know. to know when she said it. how she said it. the expression she bore as those words tumbled from those perfect lips. the way her voice sounded. he wanted to know every miniscule detail.

he needed to know.

“when did she say that?”

“while we were waiting for the uber,” lewis’ eyes shine, glimmering with joy, “it was quite cute, actually. we were making fun of you, not really making fun, more like teasing. she got so defensive, telling us to quit it because she loved you. she said to not make fun of the man she loved.”

“she was very adamant about it too,” george adds, his chuckle ringing through the space, “we asked her if she loved you, and she said ‘well of course i do. i love him. don’t tell him i said that, though.’”

“and you guys told me?”

“i didn’t mean to,” lewis admits, “you just seem really distraught about the whole thing so i figured i would try to help ease your stress.”

well, that did the trick.

fighting a yawn, the team principal covers his mouth, “we can talk about it more tomorrow, after i come back. i’ll keep you two in the loop. don’t expect every detail, though.”

“i don’t think i want every detail,” george teases, yawning, “okay lew, i think it’s time for us to go. carmen is waiting on me.”

“have fun! don’t break your hips from–”

“lewis.” george hisses, “let’s go.”

“okay,” lewis rolls his eyes, “see you, toto.”

as the two drivers exit the motorhome, the door clicking shut, the team principal clambers to his feet. fuck, today was completely and utterly exhausting. yet, he could finally hold you in his arms. he could finally just be with you.

that alone was worth the trouble brought by the series of events that transpired this evening.

pushing open the door, toto melts at the sight of you.

you were lying on your hip, one pillow underneath your head while you held onto the other. your knee was bent, the other leg sticking straight out. in the dim light he can make out the glisten of drool, strands of hair tousled, messy and unkempt.

yet, you were as breathtaking as ever.

luckily, toto was able to get your clothes off of you with ease. it wasn’t the method he preferred, but he was grateful to be able to do those little things. he was more than willing to do anything you needed. all you had to do was bat those pretty little lashes and pout.

that was his weakness.

and you knew it too.

well, you were his weakness.

as he settles on the edge of the bed, pulling his joggers off, he reaches out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

did you know much he adored you? did he make that clear enough? were you aware of how completely and utterly weak you made him?

“hi baby,” you mumble, your eyes still shut, “i missed you.”

baby.

oh god.

what were you doing to him?

“hallo, miene liebe,” toto whispers, “wie fühlst du dich?”

“schlecht.”

his heart swells at your response, a chuckle rumbling in his chest, “so you have picked up on a thing or two.”

“come here,” you whine, shifting your body towards the middle of the bed, “you’ve been yapping with lewis and george all nighttttt.”

“did you hear any of that conversation?” momentarily, panic sets in, yet dissolves as you shake your head.

“i just woke up. i figured you were talking to them. i heard the front door shut.”

“ah,” toto climbs into the bed, wrapping his arms around your frame, bringing you close, “were they being loud?”

“no,” your voice is thick with sleep as you nestle into his collarbone, “thank you for coming and getting me, toto.”

“of course,” his mouth connects with your temple, placing tender kisses all over, “i’ll always come get you. call me, and i’ll be there.”

“promise?”

“i promise,” taking your hand, he locks your pinkies together, “i pinky promise.”

“i didn’t know old people made pinky promises.”

“it’s your fault,” toto tuts, yet you can feel him smile against your skin, “you make a mess out of me, you know that? every time you’re near me, i’m just a mess. i can’t think straight. i can’t focus on anything other than you.”

“well, you’re gonna be a complete and total mess all the time then.”

“and why’s that?” he squeezes your hand gently, resting his chin on the crown of your head.

“because i’m accepting your offer. i’m going to sign with mercedes.”

in that moment, toto wolff nearly crumbles completely.

although there’s a fiery sureness in your tone, brimmed with authenticity, he knows in his heart that he shouldn’t be so sure.

yet, as you doze off in his embrace, he can’t shake the complete and utter bliss.

after one last kiss, his mouth hovers by your ear, the words so gentle, bursting with an emotion that could only be described as one thing.

“ich liebe dich, mein goldenes mädchen."

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

a fiery pain sears through your skull as you stir, groaning.

“fuck.”

“good morning, my little lightweight,” a voice, his voice, an octave lower than normal, rumbles from behind, “do you need some water and tylenol?”

rolling over, you bury your head into his chest, grateful for the traces of cologne clinging to his shirt, “yes.”

“how many? i can order breakfast too.”

“i wouldn’t go that far yet,” the idea of food has you nauseous for a moment, “i think snuggles would be just fine.”

throwing your leg over his waist, your arm hangs loosely around his rib-cage as he lets out a laugh, “i can’t help you feel better if you’re on top of me, schatzi. you have to let me get up.”

“five more minutes.”

“as you wish, my golden girl,” a hand wraps around the base of your neck, his fingers kneading into your skin, “it’s only six thirty-four. you only slept for about three hours.”

“not like i can sleep in,” you exhale, grateful for the soothing gesture, “i have to meet with my parents in a couple of hours.”

“oh yeah? fun day ahead?”

“i guess,” you shrug, “as much as i love spending time with them, i just get so fucking sad thinking about the inevitable goodbyes. we probably won’t be able to see each other till our summer break.”

if you signed with mercedes, i would have your parents moved to brackley in an instant. you would never have to worry about those goodbyes for the rest of your life.

yet, toto bites his tongue, “then how about you start getting ready, hmm?”

“because there’s a very attractive man in my bed with me and i don’t want him to leave me quite yet.”

you would never have to worry about that. ever. i could never leave your side.

“is that so?” fingers grasp your chin, tilting it upward, “do i know him?”

“mhmm,” you hum, “his name is toto. toto wolff. you may know him, i’m not sure though.”

“i think so too,” he leans in, mouth ghosting over yours, “come here, baby.”

as your lips collide, your hands roam, tangling in his brunette locks. the kiss is passionate, laced with desperation, as if you were reuniting after months spent apart. it sucks the air out of your lungs, leaving you breathless as his tongue finds yours, teeth nearly gnashing together as the tension builds, the kisses growing more and more needy by the second.

every move is electric, sending a shiver down your spine as his mouth detaches from yours, down your jawline and on to your neck. he nips the heated skin, sucking lightly as your head rolls back, hips bucking forward.

between your thighs, you feel his cock twitch, throbbing as you grind against it.

“fuck.” he moans, jaw clenching as your hand glides along the waistband of his boxers, “you just can’t wait, can you?”

“no daddy,” the innocence notes, so pure, so sweet, drip in his ears, “i can’t wait. i need you to fuck me.”

oh fuck.

he was going to ruin you.

absolutely ruin you.

“take these off,” fingers hook the band of your panties, “the shirt too. and bend over.”

your cheeks burn at the authority in his tone. fuck, you couldn’t get enough of this. of him. since brackley, you were craving a moment like this. a moment where the two of you could just lose all inhibitions, completely enamored with one another.

sliding his boxers down his legs, toto kicks them to the floor. raising his arms, he peels off his shirt, tossing it. yet, as his attention shifts back to the bed, he nearly unravels right there.

your back is arched, your ass jiggling as you situate yourself on the bed, getting more comfortable. as he can’t help but stare, his heart flutters as he takes in the way your body flows. how your shoulders, toned and defined, ripple as his fingertips roam. how the curve of your ass sits perfectly below your waist. how your pussy looks from this angle, dripping as you anticipate his next move.

fuck, this must be a dream.

it had to be a dream.

“you’re perfect,” toto murmurs, dropping to his knees, “absolutely perfect, my love.”

“my lo–” you begin, yet the words never leave your mouth.

his tongue finds your swollen clit, savoring the way the juices seep onto his tongue. hands spread your cheeks, granting him access to your weeping pussy. pleasure washes over you, your moans flooding the space, reverberating off the walls.

however, that pleasure quickly fades as he pulls away, a whine rising in your throat.

“toto.”

“what?” his voice is low as he taunts you, “what do you want, schatzi? tell me, what do you need?”

“i need you,” you whimper, wiggling your hips, “please, i need you.”

“and what do you need me to do?” his hands grip your ass, squeezing, “i won’t give it to you till i hear you say it.”

“i need you to fuck me.”

“braves mädchen,” the praise rolls off of his tongue, and for a moment, he’s guilty at how easy it is giving it to you, “good girl.”

licking his lips, toto relishes the lingering taste as spit accumulates in his mouth, falling onto his fingers. his hand glides along his cock, wetting it.

the moment his tip pushes inside of you, your walls expanding, back arching instinctively, he loses it.

as he pounds into your drenched pussy, you grip the sheets, knuckles turning white as a hand weaves into your hair, tugging on the roots, “do you have any idea how much i’ve missed you baby?”

“i-i’ve missed you too,” you grit your teeth as his tip brushes against your g-spot, the pleasure absolutely overwhelming, clouding your senses, “i’ve missed this so much, toto.”

“what is it that you called me last night?”

oh fuck.

he remembered.

“i called you daddy.”

“that’s right,” he coos, the noises filling the room downright sinful as he plowed into you, hips slapping against your ass, “good girl. lewis and george heard your entire conversation with me, you know that?”

oh god. oh fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck.

“but you know what? i don’t give a fuck what they heard. you’re mine, schatzi. all mine.”

with every thrust, stars burst in your field of vision, the pressure growing in your abdomen. the fabric of the sheet balled up in your hands as you held on, desperate for your climax.

toto could sense that you were close with the ways your walls were squeezing his cock. the way your muscles strain, tensing up. the way your voice was practically crying out his name as he fucked you senseless.

fuck, was he crumbling now, the control slipping away by the second.

“i-i’m going to cum,” fuck, were you so pretty like this, exactly where he wanted you, teetering on the edge of your orgasm, “toto, you’re going to make me cum.”

“let go baby,” maintaining his pace, toto leans down, lips planting sloppy kisses all over your shoulders, down your back, “cum for me. you can let go. be a good girl and cum for me.”

the feeling that overcomes you is nothing like you had ever felt before.

it’s euphoria, pure euphoria.

seconds later, you feel him pull out, coating your back with his cum. collapsing into the bed, your chest heaves, inner thighs spasming.

toto disappears momentarily, slipping into your bathroom. moments later, warmth envelops your back as he cleans you up, murmuring praises under his breath. they were in german, your heart swelling as he’s beside you once again, hands gliding along your body, savoring the way you feel against him.

“what?”

“nothing,” you melt as his gaze meets yours, “just you.”

in that moment, you swear you see stars shining in those mocha depths. you notice another emotion glinting, but you are unsure of what it could be.

well, you have an idea.

but you're far too nervous to ask.

“what about me?”

“you’re just beautiful,” he murmurs, “my beautiful girl.”

“about that,” you scoot closer, your head resting in the crook of his neck, “what are we?”

his chest vibrates as he speaks, “what do you want us to be?”

“i want to be yours,” you whisper, so quiet that you were unsure if he even heard you, “as in i want to be your girlfriend. i want to wake up next to you every day. i want to come home to you every night. more than anything, your face is the first one i want to see after a race. i want to hold your hand as we walk to the podium. i want to be able to love you. i can’t do this anymore. i can’t just lie and act nonchalant. i want you, toto. i want you every day. every hour. every minute. every second.”

toto finds himself at a loss for words, blood roaring in his ears as she sucks in a breath, her voice trembling, laced with the threat of tears.

yet, they weren’t tears of sadness. it was more like a cathartic release, like she was finally confessing her deepest, well-kept secret. like she was finally allowing the walls guarding her heart to come crumbling down.

“i’m accepting your offer. i want to drive for mercedes. however, i can’t wait any longer. i can’t be away from you any longer than i have to. i want to start driving for mercedes as soon as possible.”

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