#my one problem with this score is that it's not longer!!!!!!

[camgoloud]

one small detail that stood out to me about this latest episode that i haven’t seen anyone else talking about yet is that when the commentators are calling colin “inspiring” and the “man of the match,” they are celebrating him not for actually scoring the goals himself, but for providing the crucial assists to make both of them happen. and i really love that because for me it’s the absolute perfect wrap to his character arc across all three seasons!

like, we know that colin’s job on this team has never been to score goals. in fact i’m pretty sure we’ve never heard about a single goal that he has scored. colin is and always has been a team player, not a star—and we’ve seen that crop up over and over. notably, we’ve seen the fact that he’s not entirely at peace with that crop up over and over: see the way he was affected by nate’s entire holidy-inn-painting monologue, being benched to make room for zava, etc.—like, this is the thing he’s sensitive about! this is where all of his insecurities come from!

but at the SAME TIME it’s also tied very intimately with all his struggles re: hiding his sexuality— “colin’s a chameleon,” etc. it’s fascinating because there’s SO much tension there between colin 1. feeling bad about the fact that he never stands out on the pitch the way some of his teammates do, because of who he is on the team, and 2. feeling like he CAN’T stand out, ever, because of Who He Is As A Person. etc. it’s like. he’s filling this role in the background. he’s afraid he’s not doing it well enough. he’s afraid that what and who he is isn’t good enough and isn’t worthy of recognition. he wishes he were someone different. trying to be someone different in the locker room is clearly making him so unhappy and stressed out. it is All Connected and my thoughts have been doing laps around it at an ever-increasing rate since i watched episode 2.07 ‘headspace’ if not before!

and all of this is why it’s so incredible to me that in the end, colin’s big moment comes from making assists and not goals! because on the one hand i understand the fandom desire for the colin post-coming out glowup that we all knew was coming—to see him, like, ~prove everybody wrong about him~ and inspire people by suddenly becoming a standout player and scoring goals left and right, even though that never used to be his role on the team before. and don’t get me wrong, i was 100% on board that train, and would have loved it for him if that was how it went down in the end, also. i think he should get to score here and there! as a treat! especially now that richmond are playing total football and there’s been so much emphasis placed on how it’s not just jamie/dani/occasionally sam who are making all the goals anymore!

but i don’t know! especially after the events of the last few episodes, there’s something very special to me about getting to see a colin who, rather than becoming someone entirely new in the moments right after coming out, just feels free to become, and be at peace with, the best version of the same self he’s always been. he’s still a team player first and foremost, but now that he’s not as weighed down by the need to chameleon/hide/pretend to be someone he’s not, he’s so much better at it. and everyone sees this! he gets to be celebrated for his contributions within the role he’s always played! he (and everybody else!) finally recognizes the value that he adds to the team just by being himself—fully himself! it resolves all the tension and insecurity that we’ve seen him struggling with this whole time, on every level. and so this moment was genuinely the perfect ending for his journey in my opinion—i’m so so happy that we were tall enough to join him on the ride here, and so excited to see what he does going forward these last few episodes now that some of that pressure is off him <3

[the-cimmerians]

It's 2024. I have been participating in fandom for 40 years. This is a ramble commemorating some history I've experienced along the way.

In 1984, I attended my first convention, and made a beeline for the one long row of covered tables in the Dealer's Room that was, according to the whispered lore of my friends, 'the one'. "um", I said, very suavely and coherently, except for how it was totally the opposite of those things, "I'm here for the... for the, uh. For-"

"Come around here," the man behind the table said with exhausted ennui, so I went around, and he lifted up the table skirt next to him and pointed to rows and rows of boxes underneath the line of tables. "It's all under here."

It was all under there. Along with about five older ladies with glasses, graying hair, cardigans. Flipping through slash zines and chatting in whispered voices like old friends (which of course they were). I noticed one of them had the good sense to be wearing kneepads. I was still too young and ablebodied to need kneepads when crawling on a carpeted floor, but I immediately found her preparedness skills to be both impressive and hot. "You're new," one of the ladies whispered to me--a bit warily, which made sense. "Are you sure you're in the right place?"

In the faint light (the kneepads lady had also come prepared with a flashlight, additional practicality hotness points for her) I grabbed a comb-bound book with a heavy line art piece on the cover, featuring a musclebound Captain Kirk getting righteously and enthusiastically plowed by a stern-yet-ebullient Spock. "This," I said, pointing helpfully at the cover, like I was trying to make myself understood in a language I had only the vaguest knowledge of. "I'm here for this."

Outside at the convention, most of the attendees were wearing large homemade circular pins that shrieked 'K/S is BS!!!'1. But underneath the table, we reveled in the forbidden.

***

In 1985, I fell very hard for Starsky & Hutch fandom. Which was simply referred to at the time as 'the other fandom', because there were only two. We were upstarts. Many fannish elders predicted that it was just a phase.

***

The 'circulating library' was a massive stack of barely-legible pages that smelled strongly of mimeograph ink. When you were on the list, you would write stories while you waited for your turn, and when the big box was mailed to you, you would read everything (new finds, old favorites), add your own sloppily-typed or hastily-mimeographed stories, and then mail the whole thing to the next person. For me, at the time, it was an extremely expensive indulgence--but my favorite one.

***

By 1990, slash fandom had grown enough that I no longer knew everyone in it, which was both thrilling and a bit daunting. A young woman at a convention waited for me after a panel I was part of (I think it was 'writing impactful smut' or something like that), and said she had a question she didn't want to ask in a group setting. I'd heard that before. I said that's fine, go ahead and ask; and she came out with: "Why do you have to be gay?"

I blinked. "Is... that a problem?"

She looked annoyed. "Yes, because your stories are on all the recommendation lists and in all the top zines, but if you're gay and I read something you wrote and I get hot from it that makes me gay, and I'm not gay."

"Wow." I grinned, I couldn't help it. It probably made me look very predatory-dyke-about-to-score-a-toaster. Whatever, it was enough to make her back away from me fast.

When I thought about it later that night, I wondered what it would be like not to be the only queer person in slash fandom.

***

By 1997, slash started appearing on the internet. Many fannish elders claimed it was the death knell of slash fandom, or dismissed it as 'just a phase'.

***

Anyway, I wrote all this for myself as a commemoration of sorts, but if you took the time to read it--thank you. Love you, fandom. I always will.

1 In those days, m/m fandom was known as 'slash', which grew from the fannish shorthand where 'K&S' meant a story of Kirk and Spock having adventures or tribulations or what have you, and 'K/S' meant a story of Kirk and Spock getting it on (Kirk divided by Spock or Spock into Kirk--it was mathy fannish humor and I was into it then and I still am now). Slash was decidedly unpopular in the fannish world in 1984, and there was a concerted effort to force slash authors, artists, and fans out of 'mainstream' fannish public life. Hence, under the table.

[humansofnewyork]

“People see it as a fake sport. Whenever you tell someone you play Ultimate, it’s like: oh, is that where you throw a frisbee in a basket? Or is that the one where you throw it to a dog? Whenever I’m talking to someone about it, I just hope they’ll ask me enough questions so that I can talk about UNC Ultimate. That was probably the most special experience I'm ever going to have in my whole life. I was on the team for five years, then I came back and coached. My freshman year we were really, really bad. But at the moment UNC Chapel Hill is triple back-to-back-to-back national champions. And I got to be part of that trajectory. But even though the team kept getting better and better, I kinda stayed at the same level. I never became the elite player that I wanted to be. I have a lot of ‘stick-to-it-ive-ness.’ I’m capable of working really, really hard. And part of me always believed that would be enough, which is the part that burned me out. Because after working so hard, for so long, I reached a plateau. It was physical stuff. I'm just not quick enough. When I play defense I can’t keep up with the fastest offensive handlers. They're going to score, and that's a problem. I ended up getting cut from the elite women’s club team I was on. I switched over to mixed, but ended up tearing my ACL a couple years ago. It’s been my life for ten years, but now I’m at a place where I don't know if I'm ever going to play again. I just don’t know if my body can handle it. I don't want to have another, like massive orthopedic surgery. And frisbee takes up so much bandwidth; there’s so many other things I want to explore. The list is infinitely long. I’m asking myself: could I be happy playing on a mid-level team where the commitment wouldn't be quite as high? Or will I only feel satisfied if I'm exceptional? That’s an unhealthy connection I have in my head, I think. That love is something you need to earn. And being exceptional will make me worthy of having connections with people. It would be great to become a version of myself where I no longer feel that way. And maybe we'll get there someday. We’re working on it. In the meantime, at least I got to talk about UNC Ultimate.”

[andersonfilms]

𖥔｡˚ ⋆ soccerplayer!vi who dominates the field. she knows exactly how to dominate the field. appointed team captain for her leadership skills, her ambitious drive to combat with her competitive edge and being the most seasoned player on the field didn’t hurt. even with the success she’s had, there’s a chip on her shoulder as if she’s inclined prove her worth. even if her role is high, there’s something else she needs. a sense of validation cruising through her mind plagued her, the driving force for her insecurity laced in her bones despite her excellence level of performance.

𖥔｡˚ ⋆ soccerplayer!vi who has worked for what she has, hence her worth ethic is top notch. she knows what it takes and only wants to be the best. but you? it just so happens you are striving for the same thing. from the very first day, vi is not your biggest fan. especially when you start winning everyone over. with your stupid smile, the humor that same to make everyone laugh, the kindness that seems to reach every but her.

𖥔｡˚ ⋆ soccerplayer!vi who is dismissive the moment she sees you. you’re cocky, overly-confident — it’s the clear the moment the two of you met. then, you act like a complete fucking asshole. yet, all she offers is subtle eye rolls once your back is turned. she says nothing when you shoulder check her besides the curse, she makes to herself. at least, vi

what was that, v?

it’s vi.

𖥔｡˚ ⋆ soccerplayer!vi who is fucking infuriated. one of the biggest matches of her professional career and you almost fucked it all up. your big ego nearly not big enough to fit on this team, you remind vi of your incessant craving to make the big play. avoiding passing to her because she needs to be the one score to the goal. vi bit her tongue when she saw the ball anchor through the net. really, she was looking forward to shoulder checking you after you missed, but now she must stomach your earth-shattering smirk.

vi isn’t sure how it happens but the two of you end up in the showers alone. it’s clear to the both of you, there’s little love to be had and the steam rolling of off the team captain’s shoulders is evident. not from the shower the both of you just took either.

still, she remains silent as she finishes dressing, her muscular, tattooed back facing you. the ever so stoic athlete keeping her comments to herself.

“can’t even be happy, huh?” you snarl, pearly whites nearly on full display. “the all might v didn’t save the day so it wasn’t good enough.”

“this is not —” she sighs deeply, running her hands through damp hair, “you really think this is my problem? m’not one with the ego that needs stroking.”

she slides her t-shirt fully over her waist before being faced with you. the pink in her hair darkened from the shower but her eyes still glow just as blue. normally, if it were anyone else, her composure levels would be sustained.

unfortunately, this is you.

“you need something stroked.” you press.

“excuse me?”

simply, you shrug your shoulders as you deliberately walk past her. instead of a shoulder check you’d like to indulge yourself in, just to hear her curse at you when she thinks you can no longer hear her. sometimes, you just want her to smell your body wash, flood her senses until she’s drunk on it.

even if she hates you, you’ll make she secretly love every moment of it. a fine line between hate and love, the two of you seem to dance on it delicately. hidden behind a curtain vi used to protect yourself will certainly be drawn back. all that’s needed is a bit of ruffling.

she smells the sweet vanilla mixed with the musky mahogany as drift through her vicinity.

more importantly, she feels you.

the deliberate hand grazing her ass, almost applying pressure. vi thinks she might be imagining things. did you just grab a feel of her?

yet, she doesn’t have much time to process your motive when an involuntary whimper leaves her lips, a soft sigh vibrates through her body and escapes before she can catch it. your own is upturned at the omission, a secret one, a moment of weakness in her aching body.

the blood seems to boil, nearly immediately — she hates you.

she hates you. what the fuck?

disappointingly, from the ridges of her repaired heart, vi knows saying something twice doesn’t suddenly make the first lie true.

“alright. are you going whimper some more for me or do i have to give it a squeeze?” your eye subtly drops into a wink, looking her up and down.

beautifully, she pouts with her eyebrows furrowed, but your focus is on her lips.

vi visibly gulps, “what? no!” but she doesn’t hide it well. the desire bubbling in desperate blues. she’s fumbling over words but none of them string into a coherent thought, just a flustered mumble.

“sure, v.” you lean in with lips ghosting her pierced ear. “you may be captain but we both know whose really in charge.”

an in a blink of an eye, you vanished, as if this never happened in the first place. vi left to deal with the intoxicating scent of your body wash and the lust bubbling beneath the surface disguised as blind hatred.

[blitzyn]

relax

alhaitham x m!reader

Request: well, since requests are open, perhaps I could request an alhaitham X male s/o where s/o has been really stressed lately with school and has been overworking himself. Because of this, alhaitham being the caring boyfriend he is comes to comfort and relax his beloved s/o with sex and aftercare. If possible, pls let alhaitham call his s/o a 'good boy' and just a praise kink in general, tysm!! 💕 — @ezraelo

a/n -> this mf reminds me of my dad so i kinda wrote what I think he'd say if i was in reader's situation tbh. NOT THE SEX THOUGH. anyways pgr fic first then hate sex w/childe next its been decades since I've done him (⁠｡⁠♡⁠‿⁠♡⁠｡⁠) sigh sometimes i forget i don’t have to write so damn much

wc -> 3.6k

cw -> soft alhaitham (heart eyes pt2), anal fingering, anal sex, praise, not beta read

merry christmas and happy holidays!!

To say you were tired was an understatement—you were exhausted. Stressed. Angry. It felt like everything that could go wrong did go wrong.

First, you accidentally woke up late, was scolded by your teacher when you arrived and made the "perfect" example on what a scholar from the Akademiya should not be. Then you had to study for several hours for a few of your upcoming exams and evaluations—all while having to take some more tests the following week.

And as if that wasn't e-fucking-nough, you had done horribly on one of your essays so now you had to redo it for a better score, on top of needing to start yet another one regarding... Something. You forgot what the prompt was. Honestly, you forgot to do a lot of things. Like eat. Or drink water. Which was something that really didn't help to improve your mood.

You stumbled through the door trying to pry your uniform off, haphazardly tossing your hat to the side. You felt like shit and wanted nothing more than to flop on your bed and stay in there for the rest of your miserable life. But, like the universe was trying to give you the biggest middle finger ever, one of the loops on your clothes got caught on the corner of a counter. While you'd normally just take it off and go on your merry way, you weren't having it today and just yanked yourself forward, tearing the loop and the fabric it was connected to.

Finally making it to your room, you flopped on the bed face-first, muffling the loud groan that came from you. You stayed like that for a moment longer before turning your head, remembering to breathe deeply.

Two knocks came from the door. "You okay?" Your boyfriend, Alhaitham, asked, leaning against the frame as he stared at you.

"You're smart. Figure it out yourself," you muttered bitterly, wincing at the accusatory tone in your voice. You sighed, deciding to face him. "Sorry."

He shrugged, walking to sit on the edge of your shared bed. "What's wrong?" He questioned, his expression unchanging even when he watched your brows furrow in irritation.

"It's just... Ugh," you grumbled, rolling your eyes childishly. "Just a bad week. It feels like everything's going against me." You rolled onto your back, arms and legs sprawled out like a starfish. "I don't think I can catch up."

"You're in the Akademiya," Alhaitham said, giving you a look that made it seem like he didn't know why you were complaining. "Obviously it's going to be hard for you."

"'For you,'" you repeated, glaring at nothing in particular, but it was getting increasingly evident that you were beginning to direct your anger towards him. "Of course you don't get it. You've been smart your whole life."

He was quiet for a moment, letting you try to calm yourself before speaking again. "Don't sell yourself short like that. It's unhealthy."

You huffed. "It's not selling myself short if it's actually true." You pressed your palms against your eyes until you saw faint fireworks coloring the darkness. "I have to redo an essay because apparently it didn't go with damn prompt. Then I have to do another one, and I don't even know where to start, and—" you listed off your problems, your voice getting higher in pitch until you were on the verge of shedding tears, overwhelmed with the sheer amount of work you accidentally accumulated.

"Hey," he interrupted you, leaning to place a hand on your thigh. "Calm down." He gave you an unimpressed look when you snapped your mouth open to retort, watching you begrudgingly close it in defeat. "Breathe. You're getting worked up over things you can change."

But when you could hardly focus on utilizing the breathing techniques he taught you, he decided to take a different approach. "Let's have sex, then."

"What? Why? 'Cause of the post-nut clarity?" You sighed, rubbing your temple to stave off the impending headache after staring at him incredulously. Damn. Sometimes you forget how straightforward he could be.

Alhaitham gave you a look. It was deadpan—because when was it not?—but you could still sense the slightest bit of confusion. "If that's how you want to word it, yes," he said, before elaborating. "Sex can also help you relax and improve your immune system."

He quickly looked you up and down, and despite not saying anything, you knew what he was trying to imply. You looked like a mess.

"It can also help improve your quality of sleep," he added, crossing his arms against his chest. "It has a few other benefits than just feeling good, you know." He watched you ponder his suggestion, chewing on your lip absentmindedly before giving in with a sigh.

"Fine. But you're doing all the work," you said, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him better.

"That was the plan." The corners of his lips quirked up in a brief, subtle smirk as he leaned to place his hands on your shoulders to gently push you back down. "Just relax."

He continued when you nodded, running his hands along your body, gently caressing every curve and contour of your frame. An eyebrow raised in question when he felt the torn patch in your clothes but decided against mentioning it as he guided you out of your suffocating uniform with practiced ease. Already, you seemed a bit calmer than earlier, giving yourself a well-deserved stretch that made you remind him of a cat.

You felt the tension beginning to seep out of your body with every article of clothing that was carelessly tossed to the floor, reaching your hands out to tug him closer. He obliged without hesitation, sighing in satisfaction when he melded his lips with yours. His hands slid below your underclothes, snaking them upwards until they found your chest. He tweaked and pinched your nipples as he moved his way downwards, placing kisses along your jawline and neck.

You softly moaned, brushing your fingers through his hair that had him leaning into your hand. He removed your shirt, trailing appreciative kisses down your sternum. A hand made its way down your front toward your pants, slipping a hand inside to wrap his fingers around your flaccid dick. Your breath hitched, instinctively widening your legs to give him better access, much to his pleasure.

He was gentle; his hands were soft and careful, and neither of you were in a rush. You felt your eyes flutter shut as your lips parted with every quiet gasp and sigh that left you, and he couldn't help but stare.

It annoyed him how little you thought of yourself when he could clearly see you as something more. Sure, it irked him how you complained about things that could easily be changed if you put your effort into it, but you were also right. He always had it academically easy and often found it hard to connect with others or understand their problems on a level that wasn't with you. He was well aware of this issue, knowing that it often hindered his ability to comfort, and—for the first time in how long?—it frustrated him.

Even if he had no idea how to properly soften his words around you or to consistently change his facial expressions, he always showed he cared by spending time with you, teaching you new things, or helping you understand foreign concepts. But even then, he was willing to try to tell you that you were more than what those pompous Akademiya professors reduced you to, that you were better than what you said you were.

"Look at me," he said, his voice soft and smooth, coaxing your pretty eyes open. He slipped his hands out of your shirt and cupped your cheeks tenderly, ensuring your focus on him. "It doesn't matter what everyone says about you when they don't understand that you have strengths that rest beyond the traditional Akademiya expectations."

"But that doesn't—"

He gave you yet another stern look, to which you quieted down with a huff. "It's okay to struggle. Everyone does at some point. Even those professors found something difficult before they became what they are. But you know what they did?"

He paused, gauging your reaction. He was aware that what he was saying probably didn't make you feel better or make the most sense, but he hoped that you could feel the sincerity in his voice. "They took a step back, took a deep breath, and figured out what they were doing wrong. They didn't do that overnight or by working themselves to the bone. That's what you need to acknowledge."

"But all my other colleagues are doing fine, and I'm the only one struggling..." You appreciated his words, truly, but they did little to quell your worries.

"Are you? How do you know that for sure?" He countered, sliding his hands down to caress your hips. He watched you pursed your lips, squirming slightly under his gaze. "Point is, you shouldn't try to compare yourself to everyone around you and overwork yourself because that only leads to bad work and a bigger hole for you to climb out of. You have everything else to be proud of—not just your academic qualities. Understand? Besides, you made it into the Akademiya. That's something very few people can do in the first place."

You looked away with a frown, but you nodded softly. Even though it sucked knowing that you weren't the best, he did have a point. Wallowing in your own failure did nothing to better yourself, as much as you hated to admit it.

"Thanks," you muttered, sniffling a little. His thumbs swiped underneath your eyes, clearing away any of the tears that happened to escape you.

"Don't let them define you. Define yourself," he said finally, leaning back down to kiss you again. It was soft, tender, unhurried, like he wanted you to feel every ounce of affection he harbored for you. He pulled away slightly, resting his forehead against yours. "Do you still want to do this?"

You nodded again, giving him a quick peck to the lips before wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "Mhm. I really need those benefits." Plus, you didn't favor being horny and sad.

Your lips curved in a smug grin when you saw his own quirk upwards in amusement, but he didn't comment on it. He sat up to tug your pants and underwear down, revealing your semi-hard cock. You shivered instinctively but kept your focus on him, waiting in anticipation for him to continue.

He leaned over to grab a bottle of lube from your nightstand, squeezing a generous amount on his fingers before pressing one into your hole. You sighed, sinking your teeth into your lower lip. He only offered a few pumps of his hand before adding a second one in, gently spreading them apart in a scissoring motion.

He wrapped his free hand around your cock, slowly jerking you off. He rubbed his thumb over the tip to smear the precum across your skin as wet sounds gradually filled the room. You noticed his eyes locked on your face and the expressions you wore, committing them to memory. He added a third finger for good measure, feeling you tense reflexively before relaxing just as fast.

"You're doing so good, [Name]," he praised, his voice low. He curled his fingers, pressing them against your prostate. He could feel his cock twitch in his pants at the sound of your moan, straining against the fabric. "I'm almost done. Then we can start."

You nodded, inhaling sharply through your nose when he began targeting the sensitive spot inside you. You could practically feel every surge of heat shoot up and down your spine, ending at your fingertips. Alhaitham could feel it too, every time your cock throbbed in his hold.

Your body felt warm and tingly when he moved both hands away from your body, wiping them off using a few tissues atop your nightstand. He grabbed the lube again and poured some on his palm to coat his cock, using his free hand to spread one of your thighs a bit wider. He peered up through his lashes, subtly raising an eyebrow in question. He continued as soon as you nodded, slowly pushing himself inside you.

You both let out a satisfied groan as he filled you, grasping onto his wrists as he held onto your hips.

"Fuck," he hissed, pushing further until he bottomed out completely. "You're such a good boy. You're taking me in so well." He perked up in attention when he felt you tighten at his words, noting how your eyes fluttered shut like you were savoring them. He wasn't overly aware of this newfound information, but maybe you had accidentally brought it to his attention now that you're stressed?

Either way, he didn’t comment on it, instead deciding to continue. “You feel so good, [Name]," he praised, leaning down to press his lips against the skin underneath your earlobe. You could feel the low rumble of his voice vibrating in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. He let you take a moment to adjust to him before moving, gently thrusting his hips.

You noticed him moving away again as you opened your eyes, finding yourself enamored with the way his muscles flexed in every movement of his. Soft gasps and moans left your lips when you looked up, instantly noticing his gaze on you.

“Stop staring at me,” you mumbled shyly, squirming a bit. It wasn’t that you hated having him look at you—frankly, that’s all you longed for sometimes, it’s just that what you did hit you. Being as vulnerable as you were wasn’t something you preferred, even when Alhaitham didn’t berate you for it.

“You were staring at me, first,” he countered swiftly, and you could hear the rare undertone of his amusement in his voice. It was your favorite sound. “Besides, what’s the harm in looking at the most handsome man in Sumeru?” His monotony nearly made his words laughable, but you could see that he was genuinely trying. Knowing that sent butterflies in your stomach all over again.

You looked away, effectively flustered with all his attention. “It’s embarrassing…”

“Only because you make it embarrassing,” he said, sliding a hand upwards to toy with one of your nipples. He subtly shifted his hips, angling them so that his cock better pressed against your prostate. He watched you intently when you let out a throaty moan, feeling his dick throb inside you.

You reflexively clenched your thighs tighter against his hips, sinking your teeth into your lower lip. You snaked a hand down to your leaking cock, wrapping your fingers around the base to give it a squeeze. “You can go faster,” you muttered, looking down to watch the way he slid in and out of you.

He nodded with a quiet hum, adjusting his grip on your waist to shift the weight on his knees to sacrifice his slower, deeper thrusts for quick and shallow ones. Moaning, you jerked yourself off in time with his movements, unable to tear your gaze away from him, even for a moment. Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you brought your free hand up to bring him closer to you by the back of his head. You kissed him needily and fervently, letting out noises that mixed in with the wet sounds that came from your hole. Your body rocked gently, listening intently to the rustling of your bedsheets and Alhaitham’s deep, husky breaths.

Suddenly, he lifted a hand up to place over your abdomen, lightly pushing down on it just as he buried himself balls deep inside you. He paused for a moment, sighing as he watched you squirm at the sudden stop before continuing, feeling himself move in and out of you. You could feel the heat in your belly intensifying with every thrust to your prostate, back arching, legs tightening around his waist.

“Fuck, I’m…” you panted, clenching tighter around his cock. “I’m so close, ‘Haitham.”

“I know. I can feel you,” he said, gently moving your hand away from your leaking cock to wrap his fingers around it. Quiet slaps mixed in with your soft noises and his breathy grunts as he fucked you a bit harder, eyes fixated on the blissful expression on in your face. His dick throbbed inside you as he eagerly chased after his own orgasm, leaning down to press his lips to your jaw, kissing up towards your ear.

“C’mon, [Name], cum for me,” he whispered, sending yet another wave of heat shoot up and down your spine. You could hardly stop the stream of moans that spilled from your lips as he focused on the tip of your cock, rubbing his thumb on the sensitive spot just below it, as if trying to coax out your cum.

“Oh god,” your voice was strained as you felt the coil in your stomach tighten to an unbearable degree, trying to hold out just a little longer. “F—Fuck! Alhaitham!” You moaned in ecstasy when you finally came, squeezing your eyes tightly shut. You tensed and trembled as your dick spurt cum on your stomach and his fingers as he helped you ride out your high.

“You’re so beautiful when you orgasm,” he groaned, his thrusts beginning to lose rhythm as he neared his own climax. He dug his fingers into your waist tighter, muttering praises into your ear when you began squirming at the discomfort of your overstimulation. It didn’t take much longer for him to finish as he stilled, gritting his teeth when he quickly pulled out to stroke himself to completion. He sighed in satisfaction when his orgasm subsided, leaving your abdomen coated in ropes of his cum.

“Wh—Why did you pull out?” You panted, wiping a bead of sweat off of your forehead.

“Isn’t it annoying to clean up afterward? You're always complaining about it whenever we have sex,” he questioned after a moment, taking a second to bask in the afterglow before getting up to reach for a tissue to clean your skin. He put his pants back on, gathering your clothes to put them in a laundry basket.

You shrugged. “I mean, sometimes. But I’m gonna take a bath either way.” You blinked in confusion when you saw him quirk a brow, fidgeting a bit when he didn’t stop staring at you.

“No. You’re going to sit and wait here while I make you something to eat, first,” he instructed, leaving no room for negotiation. “Afterwards, you’re going to go to sleep. Then you can take a bath when you wake up.”

As if on cue, your stomach growled audibly, quickly reminding you that you haven't eaten anything since yesterday. "But then I'm gonna be all sticky and gross when I eat," you said, knowing how much he disliked having dirty bedsheets for too long. It surprised you when he shrugged, leaning against the doorframe as he waited for you to decide.

"If you want to take a bath first, then I'll help you," he offered. You swiftly nodded, wanting to eat clean and comfortably. He nodded and told you to wait for a moment as he prepared the water for you, leaving you by yourself for a while until he returned. The two of you walked into the bathroom where a bathtub of warm water awaited you. But just as you raised your leg to enter, a sudden wave of dizziness overcame you. Luckily, Alhaitham was there to keep you from falling with a firm hand on your arm, carefully helping you into the water.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his eyes darting across your face for any sign of distress. He relaxed upon seeing nothing but waited for your response for further confirmation.

"Yeah. It's just something that happens when I get too hungry, y'know?" You explained sheepishly, splashing some of the water onto your arms and back.

"No, I don't know." He ignored the way you rolled your eyes. "I'll be right back, then."

You hummed to yourself, not minding his absence as you savored the warmth surrounding you, resting your head against the edge of the tub. You nearly fell asleep in the time it took for Alhaitham to return, jumping in surprise at the sound of his voice.

"Hey," he spoke, returning to your side with a bowl in his hand. "Eat this for now."

He kneeled down, bringing the bowl close enough to let you reach in and take whatever was inside. They were fruits, you saw as you happily grabbed one, tossing it into your mouth. You had to stop yourself from grabbing a handful and eating it all in one go, forcing yourself to appreciate every bite. You noticed him shifting behind you, leaning forward instinctively when he began cleaning your back with a small, wet towel.

The two of you basked in the comforting silence for a while as you let him take care of you until you turned your head to face him. "I love you," you said with a little grin.

"I know," he replied, putting the bowl onto the floor.

"Say it back." You pouted, but you knew he was only teasing.

His mouth quirked up in a faint smile, leaning forward to give you a quick peck on your lips. "I love you too."

[struwberrii]

where haikyuu!! guys like to kiss you ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪

here’s my cut little headcanons on where i think the haikyuu guys like to kiss you :3 (also idk if i have to clarify but this is all time skip)

characters: suna, iwaizumi, atsumu, semi, kuroo

suna

crook of your neck ♡

you were sitting in the passenger seat of sunas car while he drove you to your suprise date. r&b music played on his speaker while you looked out the window at the late night sky.

after a few minutes of driving, the two of you pulled into a grassy field that sat infront of a fenced off cliff, giving the two of you a perfect view of the city below you and the starry sky above you. he invited you to climb onto the hood of his car and watch the stars with him, the music playing loud enough for the two of you to hear from outside the car.

after a few minutes you felt a heavy arm wrap around your shoulder and pull you closer, your nose flooded by the smell of his cologne.

“how’d you get to be so pretty, huh?”

he brought his head down to your neck and gave you a light kiss while rubbing circles into your side with his fingers

“let’s stay like this for a little longer”

before you knew it, suna fell asleep, his warm breath tickling the crook of your neck, how peaceful ദ്ദി(ᵔᗜᵔ)

iwaizumi

top of your head

you were running around the city with iwa and decided to stop by a small arcade, since one of the crane games prizes caught you eye in the window of the building.

after 4 or 5 attempts and -$25 to your game card you decided to give up on winning the stuffed bunny.

“come on let’s just go”

you sighed in defeat as you made your way to the exit of the arcade

“hold on let me try”

iwa said swiping the game card. effortlessly he won you the stuffed bunny on his first try, leaving you shocked and a little embarrassed by your previous attempts. he bent down to grab the stuffed animal from the machine and handed it to you smiling.

“it kind of looks like you”

he said laughing a little before slinging an arm around your shoulder and leaving a peck on the top of your head.

“thank you iwa”

“no problem, love”

atsumu

on the lips <3

you sat courtside at your boyfriend, atsumus volleyball game. it was pretty close the entire time so you watched closely at the edge of your seat. well, you mainly watched atsumu though, the way he hit the ball so effortlessly was mesmerizing.

eventually, atsumu scored the final point for his team, securing the victory for the black jackals. he briefly celebrated with his team before looking over in your direction, blowing you a kiss before following his teammates to the locker rooms.

you gathered your belongings before making your way to the front of the stadium to wait for atsumu.

after a few minutes he found you, now he was wearing a nike tracksuit with his gym bag slung over his shoulder.

“hey doll, you looked real cute cheerin’ for me like that”

he smirked before tilting your chin up and pulling you in for a kiss

“you should show up more often, don’t think i’ve ever played that good before”

he said before pulling away and shooting you a sweet smile.

semi

on the cheek !!

you were backstage making a cup of tea for semi while you listened to him warm up. he had to be on stage in about 5 minutes so he was just killing time, playing short little songs on his guitar.

you handed him his cup of tea and sat next to him listening.

“you wanna know something? i wrote this song for you”

he said smiling at you as he took a sip of his tea. it was an older song he was playing, a song he wrote before the two of you even started dating. just thinking about the fact that he felt so passionately about you before you guys were even a couple left you a blushing mess.

“come on semi! we’re on!”

one of his bandmates shouted from the curtain, getting ready to go out.

semi jumped off the sofa and took one final look in the mirror behind him, adjusting his hair before making his way back over to you.

he grabs your chin and tilts your head up, giving you a light kiss on the cheek before pulling back and staring into your eyes for a second. ‘how’d i get so luck’ he thinks to himself

“how about one back, for good luck y’know?”

he says blushing while pointing to his cheek

you leaned in, kissing him like he asked for, accidentally leaving your lipgloss on his cheek. you giggled a bit and decided to let him go out on stage with the kiss on his cheek. it’s his good luck charm after all.

kuroo

your knuckles :o

kuroo loved to tease you, any chance he gets to leave you flustered he takes with a smirk on his face.

so when you were walking home from the store with him, he takes the opportunity.

“are you really gonna eat all those snacks by yourself? how about i help ya out?”

he said smirking and reaching for your bag. you swiftly swatted his hand away, but you ended up hitting him to hard. you sighed a bit before rubbing your hand to ease the stinging.

“woah, don’t hurt yourself now dear”

he said looking down at you laughing a bit. he grabbed your hand and brought it up to his lips, planting a light kiss on your knuckles, laughing a little more at you.

“be more careful, ok?”

he says before swiftly snatching one of your snacks, you’re still too flustered to notice him munching on one of your pastry sticks.

[adascore]

The Golden War

pairings: alexia putellas x lyonnais!reader

warnings: swearing. for culers the ‘22 uwcl final ig. jona is kinda mean in this.

author’s note: this is the same reader from my ‘one for the money, two for the show’ fic of the lionesses!captain. reader is basically ada hegerberg lolsies :) will be turned into a series.

masterlist

•••••

Turin, Italy - May, 2022

''The final has been dubbed as a duel between you and Alexia Putellas, do you experience it as that?''

The Lyon captain fought the urge to roll her eyes at the question, despite having expected it. ''It is a final between Barcelona and Lyon, nothing more than that.'' She answered, diplomatically- the way they had rehearsed it.

''Lyon is the underdog coming into this final- FC Barcelona has been unbeatable so far. What do you need to do in order to beat them tomorrow?'' Another reporter asked, a pen ready in his hand to take notes.

There was a slight change in her expression as the question left his lips, the man succeeding in poking through her stoic expression. ''Well, we have never lost to Barcelona- I don't know if you remember 3 years ago or even last year,''

Lyon had comfortably beaten the Spanish club in 2019. In that Champions League Final, Y/N had become the first player to score a hattrick in a UWCL final. Their last meeting had been in 2021, in the pre-season, where Lyon had won 3-2, the Lyon captain again putting one in the net.

''We have won this competition many times. There was football before Barcelona, and it was being played by us.''

Her last sentence of the quote had struck a nerve with the Barça captain.

''She acts like she has already won the whole thing.'' Alexia remarked as she read a transcript of the press conference.

Patri and Mapi glanced at one another, a knowing look in their eyes. ''Technically, there is nothing wrong about what she said, Ale. How many times has she won this competition now? 6? 7?'' The defender said, not having a problem with the opposition's words.

''She's just pissed that everyone is talking about us now.'' She ignored Mapi, continuing berating her opponent.

The rivalry between the captains of the two top teams had been something made up by the media, seeking a female counterpart to the famed Ronaldo-Messi rivalry. Both Alexia and Y/N led Europe's premier clubs, won the Champions League, captained their national teams, and earned the Ballon d'Or. This fueled incessant comparisons.

Alexia and Y/N hadn't given it much thought at first. There were also many differences between them; Alexia is a midfielder, while Y/N is a striker. Despite their similar ages, their careers took diverse paths. Alexia remained in the Spanish league, while Y/N gained experience across various countries.

Over time, an unexpected shift occurred. They began caring about each other's achievements. Yet, they knew the comparison wasn't fair.

Despite being younger, Y/N dominated women's football for longer, winning the Champions League seven times – twice with Wolfsburg and five times with Lyon. In contrast, Alexia secured one with Barcelona. Neither had won anything major with their national teams, though she had come close with England a few times. Furthermore, on the accolades side of things, Y/N led with a repertoire that most players could only dream of.

For a long time, it hadn't bothered Alexia. She had watched in admiration as the younger player became the first recipient of the Ballon d'Or, a huge step in women's football. Y/N's advocacy for the sport also didn't escape the Spanish player.

However, her admiration had turned into envy.

The turning point came in the 2019 final against Lyon. She had observed the way the English striker had celebrated with her entire team- how the Lyon squad immediately ran to her once the whistle blew and how Y/N bathed in all the (rightly deserved) glory. Alexia wanted that for herself. For years, Y/N had been the nail in Barcelona's coffin, scoring the goals that made sure they couldn't continue in the competition- in the captain's opinion, the striker had made a joke of her team for years, even if she didn't meant to do that.

Their interactions over the years were limited to polite handshakes before or after matches. Occasional encounters outside the pitch were rare and brief, seldom extending beyond a few sentences.

Alexia's surprise peaked when Y/N congratulated her on winning the Ballon d'Or through both private and public Instagram messages. Despite her reservations about comparisons and rivalry, receiving praise from someone she admired as one of the best in the game left Alexia with a positive feeling.

''No, I think she's just not a fan of being referred to as an underdog.'' Patri defended the Lyon striker.

This explanation didn't sit well with Alexia, evident from the displeasure on her face. ''Whatever,'' she retorted, looking forward to settling matters on the field that Saturday.

Saturday, May 21, 2022

Excitement, adrenaline, nerves, and tension permeated the tunnel of Juventus Stadium as Alexia, tightly gripping her pennant, stood at the front of her lined-up team, awaiting the opposing captain.

The sudden hush among the Barcelona team signaled the arrival of their counterpart. Turning around, Alexia frowned at her teammates' fascination with the approaching striker.

This is not the time to be fangirling, she thought to herself, as she saw most of her players' eyes following the striker's figure.

As the two top players faced each other, uncertainty lingered about whether they should exchange greetings. Y/N broke the silence, deciding to offer some acknowledgment. ''Hey, you alright?'' Her charming English accent filled the air.

''Yeah, and you?'' Alexia almost cringed at her own quick response, not giving her brain time to think.

''I‘ll see in about 90 minutes.'' The younger one grinned.

I'll wipe that smirk off your fucking face, Alexia said in her mind, not a fan of the confidence the striker was oozing.

Ten minutes later, the referee blew the whistle, signaling the start of the highly-anticipated final.

Lyon applied intense pressure right from the start, managing to create two goal-scoring opportunities within the first three minutes of the match.

However, the audience were offered their first initial glimpse of the rivalry in the 6th minute of the game.

Y/N positioned herself strategically, eyes fixed on her teammate readying a precise pass to her. The ball zipped across the pitch, and in a heartbeat, both Y/N and Alexia were locked onto winning it for themselves.

The striker, a master of timing, surged forward. Simultaneously, the midfielder closed in on the target. The collision was inevitable.

Both players fell with a thud, groaning at the contact with the ground. Despite the force of the clash, they both showed resilience as they wanted to use the momentum to their advantage.

They were momentarily entangled, fighting for control of the ball. It was a brief display of the rivalry that had brewed between them.

Y/N rose swiftly from the turf, eyes filled with determination. The collision had only fueled her competitive fire. With the ball firmly at her feet, she accelerated away from the mess, leaving Alexia behind.

The crowd erupted in gasps and cheers as Y/N, now in open space, scanned the field. Seizing the opportunity, she unleashed a powerful strike from well outside the box.

Time seemed to slow as the ball sailed towards the goal. Panos's desperate dive was in vain as the ball found the back of the net. The roar of the crowd echoed through the stadium, a symphony of cheers and applause for a goal that showcased the skills and spirit of the Lyon captain.

A fleeting scowl crossed Alexia's face, frustrated at the missed opportunity.

Y/N turned on her heels as the net rippled, ready to embrace her teammates who were rushing to her.

''Vamos!'' She roared, the Spanish word escaping her lips like a battle cry.

Yet, she found herself face-to-face not with the familiar sight of Lyon jerseys but with the intensity of Alexia's determined gaze.

Her expression froze for a quick second, confusion adorning her features. Y/N's eyes widened in realization, and for a brief instant, the two captains locked eyes in an unspoken exchange.

The celebration continued around them, teammates engulfing Y/N as they screamed with delight at their captain's prolific opener. The air was filled with jubilation, but within the chaos, the tension lingered between the two captains, adding an intriguing layer to the unfolding drama on the pitch.

The match unfolded further, Barcelona grabbing a few opportunities of their own, but not being clinical enough to score an equalizer. The Spanish squad remained calm, showing no signs of panic in their play, despite being behind.

Selma and Melvine played a great one-two with each other, and the young defender shot a beautiful cross towards the box. Anticipating the trajectory of the ball, Y/N skillfully pulled away from Leon, who undoubtedly had the impossible task of marking the striker.

The ball connected with Y/N's forehead, falling perfectly into the mesh. The scoreboard illuminated with Lyon 2, Barcelona 0. The narrative had shifted as the favorites stomped the ground in frustration, while the ''underdogs'' celebrated another goal from their captain.

The first half flew by. Y/N managed to assist Catarina to make it 3-0, but Alexia found the back of the net to get one back.

3-1.

The second half saw more scoring opportunities for Barcelona, but no one managed to finish the job.

After contact with Martens, Griedge cited experiencing a cramp and asked for treatment- a request that the Barcelona side was not having. Y/N, understanding the frustration of time-wasting, especially when behind in a match, stood aside.

However, the Lyon captain didn't appreciate the scolding she received from the opposition's coach. ''Tell your player to stop the comedy, what a shit job!'' Jonatan exclaimed to the English captain, who observed the scene from the sideline.

Y/N didn't budge, paying him no attention, knowing it was all tactics. She gave an unimpressed look toward the referee, who had been observing the one-sided interaction.

The official ran up to them, pulling a yellow card from her pocket and holding it in front of the manager. ''Step back, please. Don't talk to the opposition.'' she instructed him.

The match eventually resumed. In extra time, Paredes almost managed to pull off a header, but it went flying over the post.

In the last minute of the game, Y/N teamed up with Eugénie to score a last-minute beauty, but the volley slammed against the post.

The piercing sound of the referee's whistle resonated through the stadium, marking the conclusion of the final. Lyon emerged triumphant for a record-extending 8th time.

Overwhelmed by her own emotions, Y/N fell to the ground as the whistle echoed in her ears. It didn't take too long for her teammates to rush up to her, colliding in a chaos of hugs, kisses, and jubilant shouts.

They had done it again, proving once more why all the records were tied to their name.

''Y/N, you're a fucking legend!'' Lindsey yelled in her ear, kissing her cheek multiple times.

As her teammates slowly got up from their celebratory cuddle with the ground, they formed a protective circle around their captain. Hands reached out to help her rise from the grass, and she found herself enveloped in a symphony of gratitude.

Eventually, she shook off her glorious daze, a wide grin etched on her face.

Y/N turned her attention to the defeated Barcelona players, spread out across the field with tears and disappointment staining their cheeks. She approached them, offering a helping hand to those still on the ground and sharing comforting words. Acknowledging the effort they had brought, she assured them that they gave her team a greater fight than the scoreline implied.

Before the Lyon squad embarked on their victory lap to greet the traveling supporters, Y/N's gaze fell on a heartbreaking scene. Across the field, the Spanish captain, Alexia, was cradled in a comforting embrace by a Barcelona staff member as tears streamed down her face.

Y/N hesitated, caught in a ''should I or shouldn't I'' moment with herself.

She chose to make an attempt to resolve whatever tension had built up between them.

Tears glistened on Alexia's cheeks, a testament to the intensity of the match and the dreams left unfulfilled. The Barcelona staff member, offering solace in the face of defeat, glanced up as Y/N approached, and let go of her.

''Alexia,'' Y/N greeted her softly, putting her arm around the Spaniard, ''thank you for the great battle.'' She hadn't prepared what to say, because what do you say against someone you feel like you are supposed to hate? What do you say against someone you've been constantly compared to for over a year?

To the striker's surprise, Alexia reciprocated, feeling an arm on her lower-back. ''Congratulations, you deserved the win. You played phenomenal.'' The midfielder told her, a forced yet genuine small smile making a way onto her face.

''Don't let this hurt you. You are literally one of the best players I have played against- your team is amazing. Use this, like in 2019.'' Y/N advised her, not particularly caring if the opposing player would take it or not.

''We will. I hope we can play many more finals. You make me- you make us grow.'' Alexia stuttered.

Y/N nodded. ''I hope so too. It's been fascinating to see the growth you guys have made these last years.''

The stadium now bore witness to a quieter exchange between the two captains. Almost every camera lens and watchful eye fixated on them.

As Y/N and Alexia exchanged words of mutual respect, their moment of shared understanding was abruptly disrupted by the Barcelona coach.

''Congratulations on the win, Y/N.'' He acknowledged briskly, his gaze quickly turning toward Alexia. His extended hand to her seemed more like a formality, but Y/N accepted it.

Almost forcibly, he placed a hand on Alexia's shoulder, a non-verbal cue that spoke volumes. ''Come on.'' He declared, his tone leaving little room for negotiation and they were off to wherever he needed her to be.

Alexia casted an immediate glance back at Y/N, a mix of emotions played across her face- gratitude for the moment, and frustration at its abrupt end. She hadn't responded to her words yet.

As the Spaniard was led away, Y/N's eyes lingered on the departing figure, a tinge of melancholy in her gaze.

The brief encounter had sparked a momentary connection- a bridge attempting to break through the perceived rivalry and show praise for a strong opponent. However, Jonatan's swift intervention acted like a pair of scissors, cutting through the threads that held that connection.

In Y/N's mind, Alexia had seemed appreciative of the opportunity to have a genuine conversation. She figured there must have been a good reason for her to have been pulled away like that, especially by the head coach.

The Barcelona captain had reacted with a hint of irritation when her coach suggested to the Lyon player to remove her arm from Alexia's shoulder. She tried asking Jonatan why he had coaxed her away, but she didn't receive a proper answer.

The whole thing had left a bitter taste in her mouth. The potential for a more extended, sincere exchange was cut short, leaving Alexia with lingering frustration. There was a desire to understand Y/N beyond the competition, but it was cut short.

She hoped her last glance had worked as a silent acknowledgment of what could have been.

[kkencess]

downtown baby, chapter one.

i. professor suguru, the hot asshole. 𖤐

summary; you’re a pretty nerd in college. unfortunately, with the word nerd attached to your name, there’s usually one thing that comes to mind first. bullies. well, maybe you are being picked on a bit, just not by your classmates… but wait, your hot professors?

˚ ༘ ♡ ·˚ ༘ you never thought you’d go from nerd, to hot nerd— but a lot of things seemed to change the second you made it to college. who knew guys were so obsessed with a pretty girl in glasses? heck, surely not you. but, you couldn’t say you hated it all that much. you got a few benefits from it, and you weren’t being bullied.

you were on the school’s volleyball team, and you were a great player. you had a nice body, a little fame, and you were somehow able to balance your studies, on top of sports. you liked your college experience so far, and it was enjoyable— needless to say.

the only problem you had were unfortunately your professors.

your grades were up to par, you came to class on time most days, and you even did extra credit assignments when offered. you were starting to think you were being treated a little unfairly by your teachers, but there wasn’t any way to prove it. why did it seem like your grades were slowly, but surely dropping— despite how outstanding your work was?

so, here you were— thinking about your professor named; suguru. a rather handsome man who you had grown to despise. a bunch of the students had a crush on him, hell— even men. that gorgeous hair of his was usually tied up into a bun, though strands of hair that were too short usually slipped out, and resided against his forehead.

he had pretty slender eyes, a great athletic form— heck, he even smelled great and had good hygiene, and skin as far as you knew… still, you freaking hated him. you were starting to think he picked on you specifically, because you seemed to be the only one with this academic issue.

“you’re exaggerating, cutie. i’m sure he doesn’t hate you.” a male associate of yours said, who you hadn’t even remembered the name of. he had a hand pressed against the small of your back, that he rubbed thoroughly…

“i know he hates me. look at this!” you tell him, before grabbing a piece of paper from your bag. it showed your grade, and you scored an eighty-nine percent. “i was supposed to get a perfect score, yet that asshole keeps nitpicking my work. he didn’t even bother rounding my grade up to an a.”

the guy looks briefly at you, before licking at his lips. he had a lazy smile on his lips, and it was clear he wasn’t paying you any mind. “you’re so fuckin’ cute…” he mutters, before his eyes fell shut.

you sigh, getting up from your spot, and grabbing your things. that guy had paid for your lunch, but after that— your appetite was far gone. you decided it was time you took matters into your own hands. instead of hiding like you always did, you’d have to confront professor suguru yourself.

so, you head over to his classroom. you let your emotions get the best of you; and you ended up banging harshly against his classroom’s door. of course you’d regret it after, wincing in pain as you looked down at your acrylic’s. good thing you always got a short set, but shit they still hurt like hell.

shortly after all your knocking, the classroom door did in fact open. the pain from your hands suddenly seemed to fade away, and you’d quickly get your shit together as you looked up at the tall man; who towered over you with ease. maybe you should look into buying platform shoes, your low top converse weren’t doing you much good in height competitions.

professor suguru looked down at you; those eyes of his seeming to watch you intensely. there was something so… off about him. his gaze almost seemed predatory. you unknowingly trembled, the longer he stared— and for a second, you forgot why you were here.

“can i help you?” he’d ask, eyes unblinking as he watched you. that was right, you were here to complain about his horrible grading skills, and uncalled for pestering. how could you forget?

“u-um, yeah.” you stutter, quickly clearing your throat before you began to voice your complaints. “i’ve noticed my grades have been dropping, and i know i’m doing the work perfectly.” you start, hoping you hadn’t come off as cocky. well, you were being truthful. you were doing the work without flaws.

“is that so?” he’d ask, back pressed against the metal door behind him. he seemed to think for a second, before his lips curled up; just a bit. you almost didn’t notice it. did he find humor in this? “oh, i see. so you think i’m grading your work incorrectly?”

“i know you are.” you say, your voice stern, and harsh. it wasn’t a mistake, you fully intended to be rude. serves him right…

he seemed taken aback by your sudden outburst. he’d scoff shortly, eyes swishing down your frame. his gaze was cunning, and direct— he knew what he was doing. he was trying to intimidate you, and it was working.

“you have no idea what you’re talking about, little girl. maybe simmer down on the cockiness, and start double checking your work. maybe then you’ll see a positive change in your grades.” he’d insult, his fingers grasping roughly at your face. you’d squirm in his hold, though your attempts to slip away were rather futile.

“sir— let go of me!” your efforts to shout seemed useless, and his grip was firm. you hadn’t expected him to put his hands on you of all things. was this even allowed? what a rule-breaking asshole, you knew there was something up with him.

he’d soon release you, which was on such short notice. you’d stumble back, falling against the ground. this is so embarrassing. you thought, as you quickly gathered your spilled files, and folders.

professor suguru seemed humored by this, and he’d sort of kneel down to match your height, his warm breath fanning against your ear. he’d press a hand against your lower back, fingers slowly grazing the anatomy. unbeknownst to you, his eyes did sweep down your thighs, that were exposed because of how your skirt folded when you were bent.

he’d grab your cheeks once more; forcing your attention on him this time. he was so harsh, to the point where you could feel tears welling up in your eyes. if it wasn’t already obvious, he was inflicting a concerning amount of pain. “watch yourself. next time, i won’t let you off so easily.” he’d whisper, his face so close you could feel his breath fanning across your lips.

and then, he’d get up, and leave; the sound of his classroom door shutting quickly snapping you out of your thoughts. you’d sit up, bum pressed against your backpack that was also on the ground. you’d quickly wipe at your eyes beneath your lenses, not giving the tears time to drop.

“what an asshole…!” you’d curse, back pressed against the wall behind you.

chapter two link.

[kalixora]

Bounty

Optimus x Cybertronian reader

Reader is cybertronian bounty hunter

Team Prime was currently down in an deep energon cave that Wheeljack had found while coming back to Jasper. It was enough energon to last a whole year the best part was there as no cons. None at all.

"Gotta hand it to you Jacky! This cave is awesome!" Bulkhead exclaimed as he punched Wheeljack on the arm.

"I'm gonna actually agree with Bulk on this one," Arcee commented. “It’s a nice find, how many cons did you have to take out when you found it?”

“None at all, to bad though, I was looking forward to kicking a bunch of scarps today too, but this place was a score for real.”

“This could last us like a whole year! Right?” Smokescreen says while tapping the walls of the cave. In which Bumblebee chirped excitedly while nodding his helm.

Optimus stood next to Ultra Magus still scanning the cave some more. He was proud of Wheeljack about finding the cave, but given everything that they’ve all been through lately in past missions, he was slightly hesitant. Ultra Magus raised his optics looking at the Prime.

“Is something troubling you sir?”

Optimus hummed, “No, but you can never be to careful.” Optimus raised his voice so everyone could hear him, “Let’s quickly grab as much energon as we can and head back to base, Wheeljack excellent work, I gave you my thanks.”

Wheeljack nods, giving Bulkhead a smug look. “No problem boss, just doing my job.”

With that everyone spilt into two or three groups grabbing energon and filling up carts and putting it on Wheeljack’s ship.

Smokescreen, Bumblebee and Arcee walked further into the cave finding the mother load of energon.

“Come on Smokescreen, we have way more than enough,” Arcee says signaling them that it’s time to go back.

“Aw come on, we gotta get a little bit more! You never know maybe the cons might find this place and we’ll never get it back again,” Smokescreen replied back still grabbing more energon.

Arcee sighed, “I understand your concerns, I do, but we've gone far enough into this cave, and I don't like staying in caves for any longer than necessary.”

“But, the more the merrier." Smokescreen objected.

"We have enough," Arcee responded.

Bumblebee attempted to intervene, but the two-wheeler refused. Acree rolled her optics turning around, "Do what you want then."

Smokescreen chuckled and huffed, "Fine by me-“

Bumblebee beeped questioning Smokescreen sudden demeanor change, Smokescreen switched his servo’s into guns pointing in the direction of the energon. Arcee did the same unsure of what was going on.

“I heard something….” Smokescreen finally said after a few seconds of unmoving. Stepping closer Smokescreen became to see a metallic chest plate, he then stepped a bit closer and was lunged at. Stumbling back Smokescreen fired a shot missing his attacker who managed to get on top of him.

“What the-“ Arcee and Bumblebee pointed their guns at the thing. It was a cybertronion animal. But it was a predacon, since a predacon wouldn’t have given Smokescreen the chance to get that close since they’re territorial when it came to energon.

Arcee fired a shot at it and hit it on its sides. It whimpered and shook its helm trying to get up but struggled, letting out a sharp yelp in doing so. Acree stared at it feeling a bit uneasy for having to shoot it. But it was either them or it.

“What the heck is that thing?!” Smokescreen stammered while trying to get back in his feet. His spark pounded against his chest plate looking to see what almost un-alived him.

“Looks like it’s from our planet…” Arcee said hesitantly still trying to examine it.

“Should we call Optimus?” Smokescreen asked.

“Yeah…” Arcee nods while looking at Bumblebee.

After ending the com link Smokescreen huffed, “Maybe shooting it wasn’t the idea…”

“It was you or them,” Arcee huffs as well.

“Arcee?”

Optimus voice echoed through the cave as he came closer to the three, Bumblebee waved him over and pointed at the creature that attacked Smokescreen.

Optimus and Ultra Magnus came closer, inspecting the creature as it whines losing its own energon, Optimus leaned down examining it some more. His optics went wide seeing the creature up closer.

Bumblebee chirped and beeped in confusion while Smokescreen began to start asking questions.

“Do you recognize that thing Optimus?”

“This is a cybertronion hound, only used by Cybertions bounty hunters.”

“Bounty hunters?!” Smokescreen and Bumblebee said beeped at the same time then both looked at Arcee. Arcee’s optics went wide, “Your telling me that belongs to a bounty hunter….”

Optimus turned to look back at the three younger bots with concerns, before noticing a reflection within the energon that captured his attention. He stood up and turned switching his servo to a gun, “Show yourself.”

Optimus narrowed his optics seeing a figure step into his view, his spark rate began to rise at the sight of… you.

You stood there narrowing your own optics at the Prime in front of you, you scoffed in realization.

It was the autobots. And their leader Optimus Prime.

You took aim at his head, glaring at the bot with anger as you fired. Your shot missed as Optimus dodged with precision, his optics meeting yours with a mix of no fear and hesitation.

“Waste of scrap and metal,” you grumbled.

“We mean you no harm,” Optimus says. “My apologies for your friend.”

"My apologies for your friend," he added, acknowledging the unintended consequence of the battle.

The others raised their weapons, with Arcee aiming hers at your hound. Optimus held his servos up, signaling the others to stand down, they all lowered the guns hesitantly with Ultra Magus speaking up. “Is this wise Optimus?”

“I agree with him with on this one sir,” Arcee says. “Bounty hunters hunt. She coukd be working for the cons.”

You rolled your optics, “Autobots, Decepticons, is that all you talk about? I should rip your sparks out and feed it to my hounds.”

“Hounds?” Smokescreen’s optics widened. Hearing growls coming from around them, four more hounds larger the injured one stepped around the rocks of the caves.

“Scrap…” he muttered softly, sensing the tension escalating around them.

“Forgive them, I shall take the blame for their consequence,” Optimus began to kneel down. “Whatever you must do, let me receive it.”

Your largest hound, bristling with protectiveness, snarled as it positioned itself between you and Optimus, a silent but clear warning. The air crackled with tension your other hound gently lifted your injured companion onto its back, carrying it towards you.

You optics shifted towards your smaller hound, scanning over their injures, your spark could rest easy, the femme bot was a crappy shot, missed your hounds vital areas completely.

Steeling yourself, you closed the distance to Optimus, your optics locked onto his with a mix of defiance, grief, and determination. Switching your servo back to your gun, you aimed it squarely at Optimus’s head, the weight of the situation heavy on your shoulders. Arcee’s optics narrowed, sensing the gravity of your demand, while the other Autobots stood tense and watchful.

“Fix him,” you demanded with a low tone, switching your gun back to your servo.

Optimus lifted his helm, meeting your gaze with a steady resolve in his own optics. As you took a step back, allowing him to rise to his full height.

“Very well,” Optimus said with a nod. He placed his digits to his com link, calling base.

[seat-safety-switch]

In some countries, it is allowed to live on a boat. These house boats are called "houseboats," and they are quite a bit different from our more conventional housedirts. For instance, there is an internal-combustion engine in the basement. Wait, that's not different from my place at all.

For as long as I could remember, I've always wanted to at least sleep on a houseboat. In my country, we have lots of water, but none of it is in the province where I live, which is a flat hellscape devoid of all features except for white supremacy and a guy who incessantly honks whenever a hockey team scores a goal. It's not clear where his allegiances lie, but that is not the point of this story. The point is: I wanted a houseboat. So I snuck onto the airport runway and hid in the landing gear bay of a 747, hoping that it would take me somewhere that boats are also very mildewy-smelling houses.

As I rode there, alternately taking huffs of oxygen to stay alive, and glugs of off-brand Sichuan-knockoff not-Huy-Fung to stay warm, I thought about the downsides of the floating home lifestyle. For one thing, you'd be constantly trying to deal with leaks, and those leaks are quite a bit more serious than "spray Flex Seal on it and stop thinking about it" in a conventional home. My mind wandered a bit as the oxygen started to deplete, and then it struck me. I realized to no small amount of horror that the problem with houseboats is that there's no garage. If you want to park your car at your house, you simply can't.

This disgusting, deviant lifestyle had lured me across the world, all for nothing. Things kept getting worse for houseboats the longer I thought about it. If there was no lawn, I couldn't park a car on the lawn. If I couldn't park a car on the lawn, I couldn't park forty cars on the lawn. What would even be the point of living?

It all worked out in the end, because once the plane landed, I got to spend some time in Dutch prison before my deportation. Besides being prettier and better appointed than my actual home, it was also a houseboat. Well, prisonboat. I got a chance to try out this new, interesting way of living, and I didn't have to give up even a single shitty car to do it. Plus, one of my fellow prisoners explained to me that you can park a whole lot of bicycles in a houseboat. He was arrested for trying to ramp a BMX off of the forehead of a police officer while demanding the government turn a major highway into a bike racetrack. I think we might be related.

[777gojosgf]

ALWAYS AN ANGEL NEVER A GOD

777GOJOSGF IS TYPING…

777gojosgf: tired!reader x satoru gojo

IN WHERE :: no matter how hard you try, your efforts will never be recognized as much as the ones of the strongest sorcerer.

a/n :: angsty time!

YOU STARED AT THE mission report containing information on your latest mission handed out by the principal and that pitiful feeling swarmed in your belly. it didn’t make sense. you had a perfect score on everything but somehow it wasn’t considered enough and you were still not named a special grade.

it certainly couldn’t be your fault, not when you had spent morning and night training at the grounds of jujutsu high. you barely had an ounce of sleep as you had tackled the training dummies for hours, trying to boost your stamina by running for miles and trying to adapt to your cursed technique. you had never taken a break, always having your eye on the prize.

you were always ahead of everyone at a young age when you still attended a normal public high school, excelling at every subject and the teachers always praising you for your efforts and high marks. but everything was different now that you were suffocated by the terrors and demands of the jujutsu world.

in the realm of jujutsu, you had become lost in an abyss, and you were no longer the greatest. the smartest, the one you had to defeat to win. no, you had lost your prodigy label and had to start over because intelligence was not the sole requirement for survival. to learn how to fight and defend yourself, you must have physical strength. act rationally rather than emotionally.

as a result, you trained yourself until you were blue and bruised, and there was never a day when you didn't start the day with a morning workout and/or a night session. you had this need to be the greatest at everything, unsure of whose approval you sought. it did not matter. you only wanted the gratification of doing good and being respected for it, to be feared rather than despised. however, your hard work was in vain because you were not promoted to a higher level.

what the fuck did they want from you?

and when was it ever enough?

before you realised it, you had crushed the mission report, which had fallen from your strong hold onto the floor. you weren't sure if you were angry or sad; maybe it was a combination of the two that was boiling deep inside and surging through your body. it was so puzzling because you had trained yourself and knew the answer to everything. missions were no trouble for you, and even single missions went well; why the heck haven't you been named a special grade yet?

“what has gotten you into such a buzz?” you heard coming from down the hallway as you turned around only to face the sorcerer you had envied the moment you had become a jujutsu sorcerer yourself. of course it was the fucking six eyes himself.

with lengthy steps, he effortlessly filled the gap between the two of you, his gaze drawn to the crumbled paper on the ground. he used his skill to raise it up and unfold it so he could read what it stated, but he didn't understand why you were so upset about it. it was an excellent mission report, with no further casualties or difficulties. what was the big deal?

"you. the higher-ups. fucking everything, okay?! i’ve worked my fucking ass off for years. i still have the scars from when i initially visited these grounds and worked out till i fucking blacked out, just to resume once i woke up. do you realise how damn fortunate you are? how do you get practically everything? you can do whatever the fuck you want because you are goddamn gojo satoru— that is my problem." you yelled angrily with shaking legs and hands, angry tears welling up in your eyes, but you knew it wasn't fair because he hadn't chosen this kind of life and how everything turned out was simply a matter of luck, but you couldn't keep your indifference hidden.

if he had felt hurt by that, you wouldn’t have known because there wasn’t any kind of feeling displayed on his face. instead, he leaned against the wall with a blank expression and averted his gaze away from you, a small sigh escaping him.

suddenly it had felt as if the world collapsed on you as you slid against the wall and eventually sat on the ground with your arms on top of your knees, your head buried into your arms as the angry tears had trailed down your face. it wasn’t fair. nothing was fair. the higher ups, him, but also the way you reacted wasn’t something he deserved that and you knew that deep down. but still— it was bound to come out sometime.

“i’m so tired…” you whispered to practically no one at all with a shaky breath, your eyes closing as you felt a headache starting due to the amount of crying and a strained voice by yelling. you had expected him to leave and find something useful to do, to not take this venting bullshit from you.

instead, you sensed his presence next to you as he sat down with his legs spread out on the floor. his back was leaning against the wall as he looked up, but he hadn't said anything yet, and you weren't sure whether he was going to. it did have a strangely soothing sense with him seated next to you.

soon enough, he had silently wrapped his arm around you and moved you closer to him. you hadn’t questioned any of his actions, you couldn’t when it felt as if there was a cloud above your head. Instead you nestled into his side and looked up at him teary eyed. “i’m sorry.” you breathed out defeated and gave him a weak smile which he only shaked his head to in response.

"don’t worry about it. you have a point, but i didn’t chose this either. you know? but it's true that they haven't been treating you fairly; i expected you'd be promoted months, if not years ago." he remarked, but he couldn't meet your gaze even though he had removed his blindfold, his white hair strewn haphazardly across his head. you merely nodded, about to open your month and clarify that it wasn't his fault, when he placed a finger on your lips, causing you to scowl.

it made him chuckle, the scowl you had on your face. he admired your feistiness and ability to stay strong even though things weren’t working out. perhaps it made you even stronger than him in a way.

“i know what you’re going to say, but i shouldn’t have showed off my abilities everywhere. however, i’ll fix this. alright? you just go and have a good night sleep.” he reassured you which only left you confused. how was he going to fix this and what for? you had basically just thrown a tantrum like a small child.

your thoughts were interrupted as you felt him drop a kiss on your head, causing blood to surge to your cheeks. you were about to comment on it, but he had already stood up and reapplied his blindfold, making his way to whatever he was planning to do.

"hey, satoru!" you yelled out from behind, still seated on the floor, arms on top of your knees. he came to a halt in his tracks and casually turned around; if you hadn't known better, you could have imagined there was a faint red glow on his own face.

“thank you.”

“no worries, y/n.”

the next morning, you awakened and put on your uniform, eager to get out of your room, until you discovered the mail slipped beneath your door. you frowned as you kneeled to the ground and picked up the letter. as you read what it stated, a huge grin appeared on your face, and a sense of victory ran through your body.

you were officially named a special grade.

you had no idea how satoru had done this or how he dealt with it, but you were extremely grateful. you realised you may not have earned what he had done for you after complaining about him in such a dramatic manner, but you couldn't help how you felt.

though it wasn’t long before you managed to figure out a way on how to thank him.

[priceyprice]

Prof!Price

Prof!Price as he's sitting on his couch, on a phone call with one of his colleagues.

On his other hand, he has a glass of bourbon that he was drinking from an hour ago. It was a late night, and the two of them agreed to make an important call so they could talk about a few students and their academic progress. Price just was at the comfort of his home listening to his friend. "Mike is failing my class. I've already called other professors, and they said he's doing fine with them. Is it the same for you?"

"Hmm... He's not my best student, but he isn't my worst either."

"Alice is failing my class, too. Is she failing yours?" Price agreed for his colleague to tell him the name of his students, and he tells him about their academic progress since he doesn't have his notebook where all their grades are (nor he doesn't care about that notebook right now late at night). He knows every student he has, part of being passionate about his job. "She's not failing my class, but she's late for an assignment that was due yesterday."

"Yeah, she always does that. It's not surprising. What about Cole?"

Price sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. "He's doing fine, too. He scored a good grade on the last exam."

"He's doing bad in my class, which is confusing since the other professors told me he's good in their classes too. Man— Am I the problem?"

Price chuckled darkly at that. "Maybe."

"My methods of teaching are great. I don't understand why I have a lot of students failing."

"Because you're teaching statistics."

"And what's wrong with that?"

"Everything."

Price could hear the wave of laughter from the other side of the call, making him smile a little. "You're an asshole... Oh, right! I almost forgot. What about-"

"J-John." His eyes snapped up at the same time his friend said her name. He tapped her naked thigh with his glass as a gesture of keeping silence. She lets out a little whimper, feeling the coldness of the glass. His name rolled out of her tongue by accident, but that didn't stop her from riding him like he's the only thing she could breathe.

Her hands go up, passing his shoulders until they find his neck, her fingers caressing his short hair. She's desperate. The call is taking longer than expected, and her lover —who's her professor— doesn't have any intentions of making the call shorter so he can have his way with her.

He's doing it on purpose.

"Hm? Who's she?" Price said teasingly, looking at the one the two of them were talking about. She looked so beautiful with her full body naked, going up and down on him, trying to search for a release. The dim light of his lamp table rests on her silhouette, making her look like the most beautiful art he has ever seen.

He's pretty sure a few gods from the Olympus are envious by the beauty she possesses while riding him. It was like he's her throne while she sat on him worshipping her.

"Oh wait, I remember her..." Price said in a husky voice, the feeling of her heat embracing him is making him crazy. He puts his glass on the table beside the couch and takes a strand of her nearly damp hair between his fingers, pressing a few light kisses.

"She's doing great in my class, a very intelligent student. What about yours?"

"Yeah, she's..." She's riding me right now, trying to stop her beautiful voice from moaning. "She's one of my top students. I can say she's on top of everyone... even of me." She gasps when his fingers start caressing the mons' pubis. "Shh..." He said lowly, looking at her big, desperate eyes.

"She's not my top student, but she's one of them."

"Yeah, she's very..." She lets out another whimper clenching around him when she feels him in her favorite spot. This was driving her crazy. The thought of her riding her professor while they were talking about her was the hottest turn on she ever had.

"Wait, give me a second. I think there's someone knocking on my door." Price puts the call on mute and looks at her. "My love, I need you to calm your voice."

"I c-can't. It's too much..." He caressed her cheek, stopping a tear. Then, he puts a few strands away from her sweating forehead, a very gentle expression, in contrast with how his cock is abusing her insides. "I know, baby, but I'm in an important call. Just use my cock however you like and when I'm finished I'll promise you to fuck you and please you like the goddess you are." She moaned as a response, her head falling against his shoulder.

Price unmuted his call and put his phone back on his ear. "Sorry, a lousy neighbor. Who are we discussing again?"

: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :

I apologize for any misspelling and mistakes. Any suggestions or comments are appreciated. 🫶

[the-guilty-writer]

Young (Tennis) Love

Request from anon: So reader(female teenager it's not a problem if she's adopted or not) plays tennis since childhood(ok tennis rules and it's self indulgent)and now there's a big championship in DC and ofc the whole team is there to cheer for her. So she wins and while everyone congratulate her with derek being so proud of his babygirl, her crush comes up to her to congratulate her. They are giggling and slightly flirting with each other while the team watches this interaction stifling their laugh at Derek's shocked reaction. And she explains to them later on and derek makes a mental note to have a "talk" with her.

Derek Morgan x daughter!reader

Summary: After winning a tennis match, your dad, Derek, and his team aren’t the only ones there to congratulate you.

A/N: First, I apologize for this being so overdue. Life has been kicking my ass. Second, I know nothing about tennis, so I hope this is okay. I changed the plot a tiny bit because I didn’t want to keep you waiting any longer.

CW: alcohol consumption (it’s Hotch and Rossi. Still sober), the BAU women are the best adoptive aunts, Derek is a protective dad, I think that’s it.

---

Derek Morgan had been shocked when you were five years old and chose tennis out of all the sports in the world. Seriously… why couldn't you have picked basketball (though he would have quit his job and coached you all the way to the WNBA himself) or baseball (he knew enough to get you through high school) or soccer (at least then he could have been a little league coach)? Instead, you picked a sport he, himself, had never cared for.

Truly he only had himself to blame. While in line at the store, he had spent a second too long ogling at Serena Williams on the cover of a sports magazine. He was enchanted. You were enchanted. And the next thing he knew, Derek Morgan was adding a pink children's tennis racket to the cart.

It all payed off though- the classes you took as a kid where all your dad could do was sit on the sidelines, the weekends spent on the court where he tried his best to help but kept messing up, the late-night pick ups after you’d spent hours practicing, the even longer weekends filled with tournaments watching the sport that he eventually learned to appreciate for you - because you were playing in the finals of the east coast championship.

It took every ounce of control your dad had, not to be cheering as loudly for you as possible. He watched you, his baby girl, the same one who had carried around that little pink racket like a teddy bear, prepare to do the most important serve of your life thus far. Penelope sat next to him, holding his arm to keep him from springing forward. JJ and Emily were sitting on either side of Spencer, who was very quietly explaining to them the physics of the game, though neither one of the women were paying attention to him. Hotch and Rossi were sitting back in their seats. They were sipping on some very expensive whiskey that Rossi had snuck in, looking a little too much like they were trying to recreate Wimbledon.

You swung with speed and your opponent couldn’t catch it in time. A double bounce meant another point for you. Derek held his breath, waiting for the umpire to call the score. He was too nervous and excited to remember it himself.

“40-30.” To you. One more point and you’d win the whole thing.

He saw you take in a deep breath before serving, and the game began. You and your opponent wasted no time, getting into the nitty-gritty fast. At one point, you almost missed and Penelope let out a muffled gasp. Still, you went on without getting flustered and came back faster and stronger. All those early morning workouts you had done with your dad were paying off. When your opponent began to tire, you were still light on your feet. The ball came at you at a perfect angle, and you took your chance - sending the ball back at a speed your opponent could no longer handle after going too hard at the beginning. She swung back desperately and it landed out of bounds.

The umpire called the game, with you as the clear winner, and the entire BAU team erupted. Hotch and Rossi got to their feet to clap. Spencer bounced on the balls of his feet with a simple “wooo” as Emily and JJ jumped up more excitedly beside him, cheering with delight. Penelope squealed with joy. And Derek, well… he was cheering too, with happy tears streaming down his smiling face.

You beamed up at him, taking in the biggest moment of your life so far. Every late night and early morning, every party you missed to get in extra practice time, the horrible cardio workouts, and the long days spent training in the summer heat or bone-chilling winters were worth it. Your opponent came over to congratulate you, and you shook her hand politely. Your coach, who was standing by the locker room, ran over to wrap you in a hug and escorted you into the locker room.

“She’s growing up,” Hotch sighed. The rest of the team nodded in agreement, but Derek was still watching where you had disappeared behind the locker room door, his eyes filled with pride.

“Let’s go see your baby girl,” Garcia said, putting a gentle hand on his arm. Derek turned to her with a smile, and a happy tear. She hugged him tight, before they followed the rest of the team out of the stadium.

---

The team stood outside the players’ entrance with the rest of the gathering families. With such a huge event, they were having difficulty tracking you down and in their line of work, they couldn’t help but think of the worst.

“I’m sure she’s fine, Derek,” JJ said, trying to comfort him.

“Yeah yeah… I know…” But Derek could still feel the tension in his chest and hear the panic in his tone. But he wouldn’t relax until he saw you emerge from the crowd. You were looking around for them, trophy in hand and bag slung over your shoulder, scanning the mass amounts of parents talking with their kids in search of your own unconventional little family.

It was Rossi who spotted you first. “Hey! There she is!” He sounded like a proud grandpa.

Your dad smiled brightly and called to you. “Baby girl!”

The sound of your nickname caught your attention and you turned to see the entire team standing there with open arms. A beaming smile spread across your face as you ran over to them. Derek caught you in his arms, spinning you around while the rest of the team clapped and shared their congratulations with you.

“I’m so proud of you,” your dad whispered, on the verge of happy tears.

“Thank you,” you whispered back.

“My turn to hug the little champion!” Garcia squealed with excitement. You received hugs from everyone on the team (including Reid, surprisingly), thanking them for coming to cheer you on.

You’d just finished giving out the last of your thank you embraces when someone called your name. The entire team turned to see a boy standing a little ways away, waving shyly in your direction. Your face heated and you turned to your dad. “I’ll be right back.”

He nodded, taking your bag and trophy from you before watching you walk away.

“What’s that about?” Emily asked.

Derek didn’t bother to answer. He was too busy watching the doe-eyed expression, shy smile, and rather ditzy giggle you had as you talked to the young man. All the signs of young first love.

JJ sighed. “Oh, I remember those days,” she said in a teasing manner. “And if he’s coming to her sports games you know it’s serious.”

Penelope joined them just in time to watch the young man hand you a flower, making your smile brighter.

“Oh!” she cooed. “That is so sweet!”

Emily smirked. “Looks like someone’s in lov-”

“Prentiss,” Derek cut her off. “Don’t.”

The women of the BAU giggled at your dad’s reaction, giving one another knowing looks. In their heads they were already planning a girls night out to ask you about everything. Derek, on the other hand, made a mental note to give you a different kind of talk later.

[clarkmied]

SMALL BUT FEISTY - caitlin clark x reader

It’s my first time writing again after a couple years of a hiatus, but i’m back in my caitlin clark obsession (i never left it 🤫), but bare with me cause it might be a little rocky writing. If there’s any spelling errors that make the story confusing let me know !

──────────────────────

Your relationship with Caitlin had started back when you were in Dowling Catholic with each other. You had been the new kid from Michigan, and Caitlin had taken a interest from you since the first day of your guy’s Sophomore year.

Caitlin had figured out very quickly that despite your height that you were quite feisty. Instead of being on the basketball team, you had played for Dowling’s soccer team as a CAM. Often you could be seen either arguing with the ref’s about another player not being carded for a foul, or a yellow card you had received.

Other times it was a player from another team, there was one time that the argument had turned physical leading to you being sent off the field with a red. The point being you had a problem with running your mouth (even though it was mostly justified).

Even though you had problems with arguing, your skills had managed to earn you a spot in the USWNT national camps before the 2019 World Cup, Jill had been very impressed with you and how you played that she had put you on the World cup roster. Managing to open the scoring for the United States during the group stage, with also managing to score the final goal against the Netherlands.

When you had won the World Cup, your initial thought wasn’t falling down on the ground in proud tears or celebrating with your team. You had B lined right toward the friends and family section where Caitlin, her family, and some of your family sat. Like a complete maniac you had jumped over a couple of barriers, before pulling yourself into the stands to kiss Caitlin in front of the world.

From then on your name had blown up all over social media platforms, and deals from all sorts of sponsors had flooded in. The picture of you on your tip toes in a passionate kiss with Caitlin had broken the internet for months (it was also in a small frame that you would end up taking with you to college.)

When decision day rolled around you had a few choices, University of Iowa (where you could be with Caitlin), University of Michigan, UCLA, Stanford, UW Madison, Purdue, or Rutgers. Obviously after seeing Caitlin’s choice, you had committed to Iowa.

So that’s how you found yourself in today’s situation. Facing off with UW Madison, a day that you hadn’t been looking forward too. With the Badgers knowing exactly how to get you to lose your cool, and the fact that not only was Caitlin in the stands but Monika and Kate were too.

“She does not look happy..” Monika mumbled, as she watched you get off the ground for what seemed like the hundredth time today.

“It’s not even halftime and she’s been on the ground more times than she’s had the ball.” Kate added, as she glanced over at your girlfriend.

Caitlin had been getting fed up herself with the Wisconsin players, every time she saw you go down she noted that it was starting to take a little longer for you to get back up again. Her hands running through her hair, as she watched you trying to keep your cool.

“They know how dangerous she is when the ball is at her feet, but I don’t know how much longer she can take this.” Caitlin told them, worry slipping into her voice. She knew when it came to Wisconsin that a potential red card could be coming your way, and no matter how hot you looked when mad, she worried about how far people would push you to your snapping point.

“Only a few more minutes before half time, Cait. After that it’ll be a home stretch.” Kate tried reassuring, as she reached over Monika to give Caitlin’s a reassuring squeeze to her hand.

“Hey Y/L/N !” Liv Curry yelled to you, as she came towards you. “I thought you were supposed to be some next big thing, but I guess your just another washout.” She told you, knowing exactly how you could doubt yourself.

“Why don’t you kiss my ass, Curry.” You growled, as you pushed her away from you. “Oh you got to be fucking kidding me..” You mumbled, as you saw the ref come towards you and holding a yellow above his head. “Yeah, I see. You keep booking us but not them.. sell out.” You mumbled bitterly.

“What was that?” The ref asked, as he turned back towards you with a slight glare.

“Nothing.” You told him through gritted teeth.

“This isn’t going to end well..” Caitlin sighed, as she watched your team and the Wisconsin team walk back to the locker rooms for halftime.

“What’s their problem with our superstar anyways?” Monika asked, as she turned her head towards Caitlin.

“Jealously for some, others just go at her because once my girlfriend gets the ball at her feet she’ll send it into the back of their net.” Caitlin replied, as she turned her head to look at her friends. She was so happy that her best friends treated you so well, and that they saw you as their own as well.

“I wouldn’t be surprised that the Wisconsin coach put a little money into the ref’s pocket for the lack of fouls and cards called.” Kate sighed, as she glared at the ref’s talking in the middle of the field. If she could she would’ve stormed down there to give them a piece of her mind.

“It’s not going to take much more of them pushing her before she gets herself sent off.” Caitlin told them, as she played with the chain around her neck.

“Caitlin!” You called, as you were jumping up to catch her attention. And when you did, you waved her to come down to talk to you for a few moments. Once she was looking down at you at the barrier, you jumped up to pull yourself up so you could be somewhat eye level.

“Shouldn’t you be in your locker room?” Caitlin questioned, as she tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“Coach D let me come talk to you for a few minutes, said that if it helped me that it would be worth me missing out of some of the locker time.” You admitted, a slight bitterness filled you as you thought about the Wisconsin team.

“Speaking of helping.” Caitlin raised a brow slightly, before pulling you up over the barrier so you were in the stands with her. “What can I do to help ease that frustration?” She asked sincerely, as she held one of your hands while rubbing small circles over your knuckles.

“Help me murder them after the game?” You asked, mostly joking.

“I can’t believe i’m saying this, but don’t focus on the bogus stuff. Just worry about putting that ball in the back of the net.” Caitlin told you, ignoring the way your eyes gave away that you were somewhat serious about murdering the Wisconsin girls.

“Who are you and what have you done to my girlfriend?” You mumbled, before leaning your forehead into her chest.

Caitlin chuckled softly, wrapping a arm around your waist while the other rubbed your back slightly. “I’m proud of you.” She whispered, before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“I love you.” You mumbled, feeling somewhat better with the comfort Caitlin brought you. But you knew once the game was done and you were back in Caitlin’s arms that everything would be okay again.

“I love you too, baby.” Caitlin told you sincerely, as she pried you from her chest so you would look at her. “So so much. I love you more than you know.” She admitted, before moving to lean in to kiss you before being interrupted by one of your teammates.

“Sorry to interrupt.” Samantha told you both, before giving a kind smile. “But, it’s time for the line up again.” She told you, before jumping down and walking back to the tunnel.

“That’s my cue.” You mumbled, before leaning up to press a kiss to Caitlin’s cheek. “Kate. Monika.” You gave them a small smile, before jumping down from the stands and moved towards the line up.

Everything had gotten messier in the second half. More tackles were made not only against you but now the rest of the midfield were receiving the most of the ground. The refs had called a few fouls against Wisconsin this time, but they mainly called it against your team.

Your blood was basically boiling, just waiting for the right thing for the kettle to set off. The anger had only pushed you into scoring a hat trick, leading the team into a lead of one point.

It’s when the 85th minute hit is when you had snapped. Curry had made a comment about how you didn’t deserve Caitlin and then proceeded to almost take your ankle out in a bad tackle.

“What the fuck, Curry!?” You yelled, as you got up on your feet. “You could’ve almost ended my season!” You growled, as you came up to her.

“You should’ve been watching yourself.” Liv told you with a small smirk on her lips. “But then again Y/N you don’t really matter in this world.”

One minute you had been listening to Liv’s words, the next you found yourself punching her straight in the nose. Liv had taken a few steps back, before punching you straight in face. The two of you had basically charged each other, taking each other to the ground throwing punches at the other. The Wisconsin girls had been quick to try and come to Liv’s aid, but hell even some of them got into it with your team.

It was about another five minutes of both teams trying to break up the fight, when Samantha had managed to pull you off of Liv and away from the Wisconsin players. Once the Badgers had seen that the main source of danger had been taken away the fighting had died down.

The main ref had showed a red card to Liv, and then turned to you before holding up a immediately red to eject from the game. Along with holding yellows to a few members of both teams.

Kate and Monika basically had to hold Caitlin back from getting onto the field to run to you during the fight, both of them surprisingly struggling to stop your girlfriend. Once you had been taken off the field and to medical, they had let her go so that she could go find you.

After a good ten minutes of searching she had found you sitting on one the physio’s tables with a ice pack to your lip and nose that was clearly broken.

She moved to stand in between your legs, so that she could look you over herself. A hand brushing the messy pieces of hair out of your face.

“You scared me back there.” She admitted, as she placed a hand against your cheek gently. “Watching you get hit by Liv and those other players really scared me, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry..” You mumbled, as you looked down at the floor.

“I know, sweetheart.” She reassured, before putting her hand under your chin to make you look at her. “But, I know that it wasn’t your fault. I still love you, Y/N. Nothing will ever change that, Okay?” Caitlin raised a brow slightly, keeping her hand under your chin.

You nodded your head, as you kept your eyes on hers. Your face contorted slightly as a small wave of pain hit you.

“What’s wrong? Am I hurting you?” Caitlin asked worriedly, as she retracted her hand.

You shook your head slightly, before moving the ice pack away from your face. “I have a minor concussion.” You admitted, before leaning your head against her chest.

“What am I going to do with you?” Caitlin chuckled softly, as one of her arms wrapped around you while the other held the ice pack to your face.

“Take me home and cuddle with me?” You mumbled, a slight pout on your lips as you pulled away to look at her.

“Whatever you want, babe.” Caitlin chuckled softly, before kissing your lips. She pulled away from you, before turning so her back was towards you. “Hop on, Princess.”

“Yes ma’am.” You said teasingly, as you got onto her back.

“Ready?” She asked you, as she held onto your legs.

“Ready.” You nodded, before ducking your head as Caitlin carried you out of the physio room and out of the stadium.

“Look who it is!” Monika laughed softly, as they watched Caitlin carry you out.

“Damn Y/N, they got you good.” Kate told you, as she stood in front of you and Caitlin.

“You should see the other girl.” You grinned at her, despite your busted lip.

“We put your bags in the car.” Monika told you, before pointing towards Caitlin’s car. “Samantha brought it to us while Caitlin went to go get you.”

“Thanks guys.” You nodded, a small smile on your lips.

“I gotta get this one home, concussion and all.” Caitlin laughed softly, before beginning to walk towards the car with you still on her back.

“We’ll see you guys later!” The two called out, before walking to their own cars to leave.

Once both of you were settled in the car, Caitlin had started the journey back to your shared place. The car ride had been pretty much silent, seeing as you had fallen asleep pretty quickly in the passenger seat exhausted from the match and the fight. When the car was parked in the parking lot, Caitlin had left yours bags in the car and carried you inside bridal style.

You groaned lightly as you felt yourself being placed in bed, your eyes slowly fluttering open. “Baby?” You mumbled, as you reached out towards her.

“It’s okay.” She reassured, as she came back into view with some clothes in her hands. “Let’s get you into something more comfortable, yeah?” Her tone was more of her telling you than asking, and you had zero energy to argue with her.

You slowly lifted yourself up and with her help you had been able to change into one of Caitlin’s shirts and a pair of shorts.

“I’ll be right back, baby. I’m gonna go change into something more comfortable.” She pressed a kiss to her your forehead gently, before walking away to get changed.

You were about to whine that she was taking to long, but then you felt a dip in the bed and Caitlin wrapping arm around you so she could pull you into her. One of your hands moved to interlock with her hand that was wrapped around you.

“You’ll take care of me right?” You mumbled sleepily, as you glanced over your shoulder at her.

“Of course I will, whatever you need i’ll get it for you.” Caitlin told you honestly, as she rubbed your back with her free hand.

“Just hold me for right now?” You asked, as you felt your eyes fighting to stay open.

“Whatever you want, baby.” She told you, before pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Get some sleep, baby, i’ll wake you up when it’s time.”

“I love you.” You mumbled softly.

“I love you too.” She told you, watching as you fell asleep in her arms.

Caitlin had done what she had said. She was there for you every moment, when you were startled awake before rushing to the bathroom, Caitlin had sat with you holding your hair as she rubbed soothing circles on your back. When you asked for something to eat, she had left to go make you something that you could keep down. She made sure to wake you up at the intervals, before making small talk to keep you up before letting you fall asleep again. Despite getting little sleep herself, she didn’t mind it at all. You were her everything, and she would always take care of you.

[lucawrites11]

the lionesses biggest problems against france and my solutions

keira walsh unable to lose her marker

the lack of a left footed centreback

poor defending of corners especially from hampton

terrible substitutions

a lack of speed and players in the box

a lack of creativity in line-ups making us completely predictable

okay, let's look at these problems in depth:

sarina loves a 4-3-3 or 4-2-3-1 looking something like this:

however this line-up has multiple problems. the first is that it's predictable, it is a slight modification of the same line-up with the same people that has been used since the euros except it no longer has the same level of success because the opposition has figured out it's weaknesses.

the first major risk is the reliance of Keira Walsh. Germany had figured this out by the Euros Final. as one of the best holding midfielder in the world, she's absolutely crucial in terms of the passes she provides forward and her ball recovery but if you just put one player on her all game (in France's case it was Kenza Dali) you can mark her out and remove England's ball recovery ability and ensure that they struggle to get the ball forward.

Another weakness is that if Sarina choses to start Greenwood, as she did yesterday, there is no defender with a good left foot and that leaves the defence vulnerable and also limits the connection that Hemp can have with her full-back down the left. Furthermore, without Lauren James, Ella Toone doesn't provide the same speed running in behind in the 10 role and that switch with Russo to allow Russo to overload the midfield and start goal scoring play. It was something that she did multiple times against France but Toone didn't make her way into the box like James and there is no finishing. English is struggling without that out and out striker, and Lauren James compensated for that gap. Without James, speed in the frontline is also lost, leaving Hemp the fastest forward player and no one chasing after her to get into the box with her.

Also loosing Earps meant that Hampton was shaky and thrown off coming on and she has never been as strong at set piece defending. Khiara may be a better option to defend set pieces where France are deadly but that's too much pressure for a debut game almost. I would like to see Khiara get her first England cap in the next Ireland match to allow be more of an option for Sarina as competition for Earps and Hampton. Sarina also failed in terms of not making a subsitution until the seventieth minute and bringing on experience where England clearly needed more speed and fresh legs. Leaving Jess Naz, Grace Clinton and Jess Park's speed on the bench was criminal.

what's the solution?

in my opinion, sarina has to use an entirely new line-up that does a few things:

either takes Walsh off the pitch or uses a midifeld overload that allows her more freedom

brings more speed into the attacking line

places a winger or ten behind Russo with the ability to get into the box

makes space for a left-footed centreback

there are a few options:

3-4-3

this is my least favourite option. it solves the keira walsh problem by taking her off the pitch but that leaves stanway as the sole holding midfielder. furthermore, it gives space for a left footed centreback in alex greenwood but it means bronze is pushed into the midfield which she can play effectively and would allow for speed in the attack but can leave a defensive hole on the wings. also without a clear left midfielder (carter could maybe play where i've place clinton and if she does, clinton should replace kirby). however clinton has speed to get into the box and as does kirby. this is also tiring for the midfield however england does have the midfield depth to bring on in park.

4-4-2 (diamond)

4-4-2 is on the left and the diamond option is on the right

both are strong choices for this england side and i think that hemp can also play up front next to russo with mead on the right with bronze and clinton or stanway on the left. two centre-forwards in russo and mead/hemp allows the centrebacks to be occupied and for a high press which can interfere with the french attempt to play out from the back that they love. clinton allows has the pace to run in behind when russo or mead manage to steal the ball allowing for a quick counter attack. four in the midfield can also overload the three that the french place in the there and challenge their ability to mark keira walsh out of the game. furthermore, a strong press in russo and hemp/mead allows the midfield be bypassed because the four doesn't always provide a full overload. two upfront can also compensate for when russo drops into the midfield and to hold up the ball, this also allows for the full overload with five in the midfield to pull markers off keira. with a strong left back in greenwood who can play centreback, williamson can also drop into the midfield for an overload. a four at the back with the left-footed defender allows for a deep block if the ball is lost, something that is likely to happen if france play in the midfield again.

3-5-2

this is my favourite line-up

the five in the midfield allows for a complete overload that can release walsh and give her the freedom to pass forward. furthermore, there is the left-footed centreback in greenwood. bronze and hemp playing as wing-backs also allows for a deep block when they drop back and they are both fast at getting both back and forward on the defense and attack which can be the main weakness of this line-up however bronze and hemp can play well as wing-backs. furthermore, bronze, hemp and clinton can overload the final third to support the high press of russo and mead that ensures players in the box and speed on a break to that can work quickly to throw off a french defense and a build up of play from the back

i think this will solve a lot of england's problems going forward and back and release keira walsh in the midfield as well as throwing france off with a new line-up that they wouldn't be expecting

i would also like to see jess park and aggie beever-jones up front to provide support as a striker for alessia russo or speed in behind replacing grace clinton

[iovetecchou]

brainwashed / sigma

prompt... "I'm yours. / Tell me you're mine." & "You've done enough teasing. Now it's my turn."

contains...! smut, toy usage (fleshlight), handjobs, teasing, begging, one use of "good boy", slight perv!sigma, possessive!reader

AFAB Reader.

949 words.

Sigma felt dirty. 

Every time you bent over the casino table to roll your die, he couldn’t help but stare at your backside. Your skirt rode up every time you did so, giving him a pretty view of your panties. As his eyes wandered down to get another peek, you turned around. Waving in his direction, gesturing for him to join you. Sigma panicked, placing a hand over the front of his slacks before turning on his heel. Making quick strides toward his suite. 

To say you were confused was an understatement. Usually, Sigma would join you no matter what. Giving you pointers and cheering you on when you won. Something was definitely wrong. You abandoned what you were doing. Making your way toward Sigma’s room. You didn’t dare to knock, you were too concerned to even think about doing so. “Sigma, are you okay-“ You quickly shut the door behind you. Freezing at the unexpected sight. 

Sigma was sprawled out on his bed, clothes lazily pulled off, and an interesting toy clasped in one of his hands. “Y-Y/n ah, please… don’t look! I-I can explain…” You didn’t respond. Instead, you made your way to the side of his bed. Admiring the way his whole body flushed. He averted his gaze from you, pressing his free hand over his aching cock to hide from your view. 

“Shh, it’s okay. Why don’t you tell me what happened, baby?” He flushed further at your term of endearment, taking a moment to compose his thoughts before he spoke up. 

“W-Well… I feel wrong for saying this but- I got… excited watching you… just now…”You climbed atop the bed at this point. Slowly moving his hand away from his cock as he continued speaking. 

“I-I deeply apologize y/n. I wasn’t t-thinking clearly…” His gaze finally met yours, and he was shocked to see you weren’t appalled by his confession. 

“Sigma, baby, what’s this?” You gestured to the strange toy in his hand.

His blood ran cold in his veins. He had almost forgotten about the obscene device. 

“Um… Nikolai gave this to me- he called it a fleshlight… I-I was going to use it t-to…” You touched his lips, “Shh… relax, it’s okay my love. Here, let me help you with this problem of yours. It’s only fair, right?” His eyes widened at your offer, not even realizing that you grasped the fleshlight in your own hands. 

You lined it up to his cock, waiting for his approval before granting him that well-needed friction. “Oh g-god, yes- please!” He stuttered out. Bringing his hands up to grip the front of your shirt as you moved your hand down his cock. Working the toy around his length vigorously, heat rushing to your core at the sight of Sigma falling apart before you. 

He couldn't take his eyes off yours as he scored his bottom lip with his teeth. Needy little whines slipped out as Sigma gripped the front of your shirt even fiercer. Knuckles turning white in the process. "Hah... w-wait, y/n- it's too much! I don't think I'll be able to last m-much longer if you keep... ah- doing t-that-!"

His words went in one ear and out the other. Instead of slowing down, you began working the toy over his cock quicker. You couldn't help yourself. Sigma's desperation left your mind reeling. You were the only one who got to see him like this, and it caused a strong sense of admiration to rise in your chest. 

"Tell me you're mine." 

You huffed out, never once taking your eyes off his muted orbs. His whole body tensed at your request. You could tell he was mere moments away from toppling over the edge, and you were going to grant him that release... after he said those two little words. 

Sigma whined as your hand came to a stop around his cock. He sat up slightly, leaning into your face before he pleaded, "Don't s-stop! I'm so... c-close, please-!" You brought your free hand up to cup his chin, pulling him impossibly closer to you. Noses brushing up against one another before you quipped out, 

"Just say the magic words, baby. That's all you have to do." Sigma's brows knitted together, and you could feel his cock twitching wildly from within the toy. You chuckled under your breath at his cute reactions.

"I'm y-yours!"

"Good boy."

You wasted no time working the slick toy up and down his sensitive cock with ease. The obscene noises coming from the fleshlight echoed throughout his mind as you captured his lips with yours. Silencing his needy whimpers and whines while the coil within him snapped. Sigma's eyes rolled back into his head as he spilled his load within the confines of the toy. 

His hips twitched off the bed as you worked him through his high. Slowing down your movements against him the moment you felt his hands reach down to tug your sleeve. Signaling you to stop. Sigma pulled away from your lips with a faint whine. Resting his forehead against yours. 

"N-No more... please..." He huffed out, pulling your wrist once more. You finally obliged, tugging your hand and the used toy off of his cock slowly. Earning a weak hiss from Sigma. His whole body shuddered as the cool air hit his wet cock.

"Aww, how adorable!" You cooed out. Running your hand that still cupped his chin down lower. Tracing down the expanse of his exposed chest, drawing yet another desperate moan from the flushed man. Sigma regained a little bit of his composure, taking your wandering hand into your own before he whispered,

"You've done enough teasing. Now it's my turn."