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straykeedz · 7 months

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day 17: bang chan + bulge kink

©straykeedz

tw: female anatomy; oral sex (f receiving); protected piv sex; dirty talk??; ♡

wc: 2,3k;

this is part of my kinktober masterlist. you can find my regular masterlist here (tho it will not be updated until the end of kinktober) ♡

🔖 (open): @linos-kitten ; @luneskies ; @kxcies-blog ; @idunnomanmynamewastaken ; @cessixja ; @stolasisyourparent ; @kookiesbunny ; @xoxo-xoxo-bunny ; @ivyskzsworld ; @mal-lunar-28 ; @leetaste ; @sunnykynnie ; @channiesgoodgirl ; @seonghwatoothless ; @mrsminho ; @seungminluv3 ; @jin-from-the-block ; @aaasia111 ; @sulkygyu ; @whosanaanyway ; @y-ur--I ; @vixensss ; @nightimescapes ; @freckleboilix ; @dreamingaboutjisung ; @yourbeomiebear ; ♡

to make sure i add you to the taglist, your age must be clearly visible on your profile. also, empty blogs will not be added - add at least a profile picture to your blog so that i’ll know you’re not a bot. ♡

smut below the cut, minors dni.

☉

You never thought a date with a man you’d met online could go that well.

But a certain Chris somehow proved you wrong, and now you’re absolutely whipped for him. He feels the same way about you, so you decided to make things exclusive pretty quickly, and have been seeing each other for nearly a month now. The two of you get along really well, the chemistry is definitely there and you can’t keep your hands off each other every time you’re together - making out and touching each other, not in a sexual way tho, you haven’t gone that far yet.

However, tonight you just had your fifth date and you’re now about to do something you never do.

See, you have a rule: you don’t sleep with a man until the tenth date. To somebody, it may sound like a stupid and useless rule, but you’ve never been one who only looks for fun in relationship. You don’t judge who only goes out with people for fun, it’s just not something you can do. You tried hooking up with a couple of guys, but soon found out it’s not your thing, and that in order to be satisfied in bed you need to develop a proper emotional connection with that person.

So what the hell were you doing on that stupid dating app? Easy - your friend had practically begged you to download it and try meeting somebody there since it’d been ages since you’d last gone out with somebody.

You did it - for her. And you were pretty skeptical about it, because meeting strangers online is not something you’d usually do. But somehow you ended up meeting Chris - and it changed your life.

But back to that tenth-date-rule. You now find yourself about to break it, and you’re blaming Chris for that.

Yes, because he looked so fucking sexy on the day you had and you just couldn’t stop thinking of how bad you wanted him to bend you over the next surface and fuck you senseless, or how banter you wanted o just kneel down before him, unzip his pants and suck him dry. And he was not even wearing a sexy outfit or had hinted at something racy or anything - the man was just innocently standing there, in front of the aquarium, explaining something about jellyfish to you and you were staring at him while all kinds of dirty, filthy thoughts involving him were flowing in your mind.

All you kept doing was stare at his fingers, then his veiny hands, then his wrists, then his strong, muscular arms and suddenly, you were wet. The rest of your date went on like this - him explaining everything about this and that species of fish, and you thinking of him pressing your body against the next fish tank, unbuckling his skinny jeans, lifting your dress, pulling your panties to the side and, finally, entering you.

When he drove you home and walked you to the door of your place, you decided you just had had enough of being good and following the rules, tonight you wanted - no, you needed to be reckless.

So, you pulled him in for a hot, passionate kiss, and you now find yourself under him on your bed. His body hovers over yours, lips still pressed together, only pulling away from each other when you have to remove your sweater first, then his. And then, when he unbuckles his pants and slides them off his thighs together with his boxers, you notice it. And it’s big, probably bigger than any guy you’ve been with, and it kinda intimidates you.

“What’s wrong?” Chris asks, noticing your wide eyes and slightly panicked expression, worried he might’ve done something wrong.

“Nothing, it’s just…”

“Just?”, he encourages you.

“You’re big.”, you admit, blushing a little.

“Oh.”, he looks flustered too, glancing down at his own cock, which looks painfully hard. “It’s not that big.”

It’s not that big, says the guy with an eight-inches dick that’s about to split you in half. You’re about to say something when Chris suddenly lies down on his tummy, right between your parted legs, and you forget what you wanted to say in the first place.

“Can I take them off?”, he asks, looking at you with big, lustful eyes, fingers brushing the soft fabric of your underwear, making you shiver.

You nod, and he hooks his fingers on your panties before sliding them off your thighs. You’re feeling kind of embarrassed of being exposed like that in front of Chris, and he seems to notice it immediately.

“We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”, he reassures you, caressing your inner thigh with the pad of his thumb. “Okay?”, he gives you a warm smile.

“No, I- I want this.”, you say, propping yourself on your elbows to look him in the eye. You want him to believe you, because it’s the truth. “I promise.”

Chris doesn’t say anything else, he simply licks a long stripe on your pussy and hums as soon as your taste invades his mouth. It’s intoxicating in the best way possible, and if it were for him - he’d never stop. He laps at your clit repeatedly, expertly, occasionally flicking it with his fingers with delicacy - after all, it’s the first time you’re sleeping together, and he has to experiment a little in order to find out what you like.

“Can you…” you let out a shaky breath. “Use your fingers, too?”, you ask him, cheeks flushing red.

“Inside?”, he asks, kissing your clit.

“No, just - put them on my clit like this.”, you shape a ‘v’ with your fingers.

You’re not used to telling men what you like in bed, but Chris is not men. He nods, then places his digits on your pussy, just like you asked, clit beautifully placed between his index and pointer finger. He spits on your clit to lubricate the whole zone, then attaches his plump lips back on your clit, gently moving his fingers at the same time, providing further stimulation, especially when he delicately squeezes it between his digits.

Chris seems to be naturally skilled at eating pussy, because he makes you cum in record time with a combination of kisses and sucks on your clit and the movements of his fingers, which has you tugging at his hair and practically pushing his whole face against your pussy as you ride out your orgasm.

You let your body fall back on the mattress as you pant, releasing the grip you have on his hair. “Shit- sorry, did I hurt you?”, you ask, propping yourself on your elbows once again, scared that you might’ve unintentionally pulled his hair too strongly.

He shakes his head as a no, then licks his lips, savoring the way you taste, then wiping his chin with the back of his hand. “No, you didn’t. In fact, it was really fucking hot.”

“Now it’s your turn.”, you reach for his hard cock, but when you wrap your fingers around it, giving it a couple of slow strokes that have Chris biting his lip and kicking his head back. “Although…” you suddenly stops your movements, and Chris snaps his head in your direction, looking at you “I’d love it if you came while inside of me.”

Chris blinks a couple of time before his brain finally registers what you’re asking him. Once he processes your words, he nods frantically, climbing off the bed only to pick his skinny jeans up from the floor, taking his wallet out of one of the back pockets, eventually fishing a condom from it. Then, he’s back on the bed.

“You know, you really shouldn’t keep your condoms in your wallet.”

“I promise it hasn’t been there long. I put it there today.”, he admits, cheeks slightly blushing at the implication of his words.

“Oh, so you were hoping to get laid?”, you chuckle, but he can see you’re not really offended by the situation.

“Not hoping, but you know…”, he says while unwrapping the rubber, rolling it onto his length swiftly. “Better to be safe than sorry.” He’s got a point.

He positions himself between your spread legs and aligns the tip of his cock at your entrance. Then, he spits on his fingers and spreads his saliva all over your pussy to make sure you’re wet enough to take him - little does Chris know you’ve been wet since he picked you up four hours ago.

“Tell me when you’re ready.”, he tells you, rubbing soft circles on your knee with his thumb.

“Ready.”, you tell him immediately, and he chuckles - he’s just as whipped for you as you are for him.

When he pushes inside - the stretch is insanely good and it doesn’t hurt, even though he didn’t use his fingers to stretch you out before entering you. It’s thick and long, and it feels so big inside of you it makes your head spin. It takes a while for him to bottom out completely, mostly because he’s pushing him at an excruciatingly slow pace to make sure not to hurt you - all while rubbing soft circles on your clit.

Then, once he’s fully inside of you, he lets his body fall on top of yours - chests pressing together as he balances himself using his elbows. He kisses you on the lips as he gives one tentative thrust inside of you, testing the waters. You moan against his mouth, taking in the feeling of having him inside of you - a feeling that’s overwhelming in the best way possible, and you don’t want it to stop.

The first thrusts are slow and precise, letting you adjust to his size, and the angle is just right, hitting all the right places with each movement. Then, he starts to pick up the pace of his thrusts all while kissing the corner of your mouth, or your neck, or your collarbone. Kisses, kisses everywhere, combined with his fingers gently caressing your hair and scalp as he snaps his hips against yours quicker now.

“So good to me.”, he whispers words of praise in your ear, letting out a choked whimper when your hand squeezes the flesh of his ass as he moves inside of you. “You feel perfect around me.”

You believe him, because he does feel perfect around you, too, and you can’t believe you almost missed out on all of this because of that stupid rule.

“And you feel perfect inside of me.”, you moan. “So deep. Look.”, you intertwine your fingers with his, then drag his hand all over your body, placing it on your abdomen.

He’s confused at first, but then he feels it. He feels himself. Inside of you. The tip of his cock right below your belly button, moving inside of you. His eyes widen, and he pulls away from you abruptly, but it’s just because he wants to witness it with his eyes.

He continues to fuck you, only this time he’s kneeling between your legs to get a better look of how his cock moves in and out of you. He’s mesmerized by the view, a tiny bulge appearing on the soft, delicate surface of your belly - shaped just like the tip of his cock, making his head spin. He brushes it with the pads of his fingers, feeling himself inside of you, moving slowly, and then halting his thrusts completely. His dick throbs inside of you, and he can see it reflected on how the bulge moves.

“Do you like it?”, you ask, your voice soft as your knuckles caress his forearm.

Like it would be an understatement. “I love it.”, he whimpers, and it makes your stomach do a flip. Then, he does the same thing you’d done a couple of minutes before. He takes your hand and places it on your belly, letting your palm lie flat on your skin as he thrusts deep inside of you, allowing you to feel every inch of him sinking in your hole. “Tell me you like it too.”, he moans, and he sounds absolutely desperate and close to his release. You are too.

“I do.”, you pant, his fingers still wrapped around your wrist, keeping your hand on your tummy. “I do so fucking much. You’re fucking me so well, Chris, I’m so close.”, at this point you’re just rambling, incoherent words falling from your lips as your toes begin to curl.

“Y-Yeah?”, he whimpers, hissing as he kicks his head back and breathes through his nose, snapping his hips against yours until wet sound start filling the room. “You like my big cock stretching you out? Like it when you feel it in your tummy, baby?”

You can’t believe this is the first time you’re fucking this man - the chemistry feels unreal.

“I do, I do.”, you whimper, your orgasm is so close your toes are already beginning to curl. “So close, Chris, so close.”

“Fuck, cum for me, baby, please.”

As soon as he feel you clench around him, his orgasm washes all over him too, cock throbbing inside of you and he places his own hand next to yours, wanting to feel himself emptying into the rubber, even if it’s from the outside. It doesn’t matter, the thought drives him wild. He keeps his hand there until he feels his cock start to get limp, and then he’s quick to pull out our you, careful to hold the base of his cock. Then, he takes the rubber off and throws it in the trash can in your room and climbs back on the bed to lie down next to you.

And as you try to regain your breaths, cuddled up next to each other, you can’t help but think that you really need to thank your friend for making you download that stupid app.

☉

-> reblog and leave feedback to support me if you enjoyed reading my works and to let me know your thoughts, i love reading your thoughts on my works! ♡

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daughter-of-sapph0 · 11 months

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tips for redditors joining tumblr

make sure you have a profile picture: otherwise people will think you're a bot. we currently have a bot infestation right now, so many people block on sight unless you look like a human

reblog stuff you like: reblogging is how this site operates. it's sorta like resharing the original post around, and it'll show up on your blog too so people who follow you will see it. sometimes you can add a comment or tags, but it's not necessary

make your experience better: if you're on desktop, download Firefox, ublock origin, shinmigami eyes, and xkit. these make the website usable, block ads, and let you know who you should murder on sight. if you're on moblie... uh, idk...

turn off tumblr live: literally no one uses it, and it probably steals your data. go to blog settings, dashboard preferences, snooze tumblr live. you'll have to do this every week, and we celebrate that on Snooze Tumblr Live Tuesday

we have lots of holidays: we have Out Of Touch Wednesday, Feliz Jueves, Kill A Cop With A Baseball Bat Monday, Get Lost In The Evil Forest Saturday, and Summon The Dark Lord To Bring About The Destruction Of The Earth Wednesday. some of these are real

don't go in the cave: don't go in the cave don't go in the cave don't go in the cave don't go in the cave don't go in the cave don't go in the cave don't go in the cave don't go in the cave

take lots of breaks: mental health is important. discourse is really stupid and dumb, and you can absolutely block whoever you want for any reason. be sure to log off if you feel tired or stressed

you have to be queer and a freak: this is the LGBT sjw website. to be accepted here, you need to act like a homosexual pervert. furries are really popular here. find a group of furries to be horny with. do it now!

most importantly, have fun: I never really used reddit much, but I know that it was like tumblr in that it was one of the social media sites that was most similar to the forums and message boards of yesteryear. as the internet is slowing being killed off by corporations and capitalism, it's important that we make the most of the small space we have left.

#dostxt #reddit #196 #new tumblr users #unreality #tw unreality

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wip · 7 months

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Hi there! I am a long time user (over a DECADE on my original blog), but this is a brand new blog I just made, on the web, after seeing a post about the creation process for new blogs and wanting to test it myself. I like the suggestion that people follow some tags to start, to help put some good stuff on their For You page! However, you'll also notice that this blank blog with a generic name and default appearance looks an awful lot like a bot. And there is also an influx of spam bots right now as well - @changes always tells us to report those when there's a new wave of them, and we usually block them too. I think I've managed to discern the difference after looking at the suggested names vs some actual bots, but most people can't. Suggesting random names for new users (which is fine on its own), sending them to an unskippable page where they have to follow *people* (not just tags) before they've had a chance to explore the site, and not ever pointing them in the direction of their personalization settings (which are buried in the new layout) is going to end up with a lot of new users getting blocked and reported as spam! Perhaps after the tag following page, you could redirect people to the Blog Settings page, where you can have informative pop-ups suggesting people add a profile picture and header that reflects their personality/interests, and point out the description section to "Tell people about yourself!" You could make the page skippable if you think it would discourage people who just want to jump right in, but it would be really useful. I see on the app that a section like that comes up when you go to your own blog, but I think it should be a step in the sign-up process, before you follow anyone. Skippable, but encouraged. (Also, the requirement to follow individual blogs REALLY needs to be skippable) Encouraging new users to have a profile picture, header, and personalized bio would really help in preventing real users from getting blocked by all the cool blogs they're trying to follow who think that they're spam bots! Getting blocked for no reason won't encourage new tumblrs to stick around! Please, encourage some individuality from our new internet neighbors, so they can become our internet friends 💙

Answer: Hey, @lefttragedysandwich!

Thanks for getting in touch with this. We are very aware of this situation, and we are trying to find the best way to solve it—without just adding more steps to onboarding, which (unfortunately) most people won’t do.

This, in turn, just adds friction to signing up for Tumblr, which means fewer people sign up to join us. Which means fewer internet neighbors, let alone less individuality.

But this is an important question to answer, and we are grateful you raised it with us. As and when we have a good solution, we’ll announce it on @changes. Keep your eyes peeled, and hopefully, it won't be too long.

Best,

—The Tumblr WIP Team.

#feature #blog #new users #your suggestions

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buckychristwrites · 11 months

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About You | Day 8 | j.t.

Summary: Your job? Pop culture journalist for The Independent. Your assignment? To write a profile on the cocky footballer that you're publicly feuding with.

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Discussing tits?? Cussing. Enemies to lovers

A/N: Let me know what you think! :)

Masterlist | About You Masterlist | Main Blog

“Holy shit!”

Keeley’s face was horrified by the picture on your screen. It was your face the morning after the match. The bruising had spread from the bridge of your nose to your forehead and your cheeks. The swelling had been minimal, and you were lucky that you hadn’t gotten a black eye. You had still taken the day after the match off, however, for that reason, and because you desperately needed to get started on the article.

Though, it had been weird being away. That had been the first day in a week where you didn’t see or hear from Jamie. There were too many instances where you thought about texting or phoning him. But ultimately, you didn’t speak to him at all. Maybe that was why you were able to be so productive. You had gotten a decent chunk written, and had transferred the audio, video and picture files all onto your laptop and organised them.

But now you were back in action, face caked in makeup to hide the extensive bruises and anti-inflammatories taken to bring the swelling down. When you ran into Keeley in the car park, she had asked if you knew why Jamie had been pulled from the match. Roy, she had said, was so angry about it, despite the win they still claimed, that he just couldn’t tell her. So of course, you had to tell her what had happened.

“He really pummelled him though?” She asked. You nodded. She looked pleased. “Good for him. That prick sounds like he deserved it.” Retelling the story had brought back the feelings from the day prior, making you shake your head.

“I’ve never been defended like that before.”

You weren’t looking at her as you stared at the picture of yourself, but you could feel her studying your expression.

“Jamie’s amazing to have on your side once you have him,” She said in a quiet voice. When you looked at her again, you could see what she was thinking just by the look on her face. It felt like she was seeing right through you, reading your mind. Maybe she was.

“He is,” You finally said with a nod. She nodded back in understanding, biting back a smile.

You tried to distract yourself from the butterflies in your stomach. The breeze felt nice, blowing just enough to cool you down from the sunny warmth without being considered too windy. It felt a little too bright outside, but maybe that was from the injury you were sporting. Your head had been incredibly sensitive, easily developing a headache at the drop of a hat.

“Quite a relationship the two of you have developed over the last week,” She remarked innocently before taking a sip of her coffee. You broke eye contact as you began to look around.

“It’s crazy what can be accomplished after yelling at each other in the car about our feelings,” You told her.

Keeley was never a stupid woman, and you never took her for one. You could dance around the topic as much as you wanted, but you could tell by the way she looked at you in this moment, that she knew everything about the conundrum going on in your head. For a brief second, you considered the idea of talking to her about it. Maybe she’d have some insight for you. She was, after all, the most qualified person you knew to give you advice when it came to player number 9 of AFC Richmond. You took a deep breath.

“Can I tell-”

“Are we workin’ out here today?”

The both of you jumped a kilometre in the air before whirling around. Jamie approached with a look of amusement on his face.

“Fuckin’ Christ, Jamie,” Keeley scolded with a hand dramatically over her heart. “You nearly gave me a fuckin’ heart attack.” He couldn’t help but grin mischievously while she continued to shake her head. Your heart was racing, and you knew it wasn’t just due to the fear you had felt moments before.

“Sorry,” He said, without an ounce of apology in his tone. When he glanced at you, he immediately looked away, the smile on his face seeming to fade away. “Erm, would I be able to talk to ya?” He asked, his eyes finding you again. You looked over at Keeley with a look that begged her to stay.

“Well, see you guys later!” She said. If you hadn’t been paying attention, you would’ve missed the wink she gave you before scurrying off and disappearing through the door.

“Right, erm.” He scratched the back of his neck, looking around as if something in the car park would help him. You watched him carefully. He looked so guilty, and sad.

“I just, erm…” He tried again, but trailed off. Finally, he inhaled, clapping his hands together. “We missed ya at practice yesterday.” You bit the inside of your cheek.

“I missed it too,” You said. Though you knew that’s not what you missed. “I just… I just needed a day for proper work and rest, I think.” He nodded in understanding.

“Your face looks much better than I thought it would,” He said, lifting a hand to point to where you got hit. You stared at his fingertips and remembered how they felt when cradling your head in that little room during the match. It was like your cheeks had the feeling burned into them, for they suddenly grew very warm. You felt embarrassed by how much you wish he would do it again.

“I’m wearing makeup,” You admitted before showing him the picture on your phone. His hand instantly went to face, running downward from his eyes to his chin before dropping back down to his side. His knuckles on that side were covered in bruises, and you had to actively tell yourself to look away.

“I should’ve been more worried about keepin’ you safe than lettin’ me anger get the best of me,” He said. “I know you said it wasn’t me who hit ya, but it still wouldn’t’ve happened if I hadn’t acted like a loon. I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “I’m just so sorry.”

You wracked your brain in a desperate attempt to say something, anything, that would make him feel better. But you knew it was all in vain. You knew, in that moment, he was hearing his dad in his head, calling him a fuck up and a monster, or whatever it was he was thinking. But it was all in his expression, as he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the pavement.

“You stood up for me,” You reminded him. “You were trying to protect me and keep me safe.” He nodded.

“I was worried ‘bout you bein’ upset by the way you rushed off after the match.”

It was true. When you had woken up back at Richmond that night, with Jamie’s arm around you and head using yours as a pillow, you were filled with a lovely feeling. The team were piling out at the time, clearly having seen the two of you already and no longer paying it any mind. You had woken him gently, allowing him to pull away from you on his own before you rose from your seat. A quick goodbye was exchanged before you left, trying and apparently failing, to appear nonchalant as you stepped off the coach and headed to your car.

“Then you didn’t come in the next day,” Jamie continued, shrugging his shoulders. “I just… I just wanted to make sure you and I are alright.”

You wanted to comfort him with more than just words. With a hug, or the squeeze of a hand. It didn’t feel like the right moment, and you weren’t sure how he would handle the gesture, so you decided against it. You were suddenly hyper aware of your hands at your sides, so you shoved them in your pocket.

“Of course we’re alright,” You said. “No other mate of mine would ever do what you did for me. You may have just gotten promoted to my best friend.” This seemed to placate him, for his face relaxed, now smiling slightly.

“You don’t have any friends who’d break a person’s teeth for ya?” He asked, astonished when you shook your head. “Sounds like ya need to get new mates, yeah?” You turned and started to walk towards the door, him following close behind.

“What makes a person a good friend to you?” You asked him as the fresh air turned into air conditioning. The hallway seemed more sparse than usual, but you wondered if that was because the two of you were now considered tardy.

“They just give a fuck about ya,” He explained, waving to the always excited security guard. “I used to think a good mate was just someone who I knew for a long time and could go to the club with.” He took a long moment to think. “But… now I know that the length of time doesn’t matter, it’s the quality of the person.”

As much as you felt bad about it, you were shocked by his answer.

“That was really thoughtful, Jamie,” You said, staring at him in awe. He straightened his posture.

“I can be thoughtful, sometimes.”

Upon entering the changing room, you were surrounded instantly by players, who all began talking at once and looking over you. You looked around between all of them, overwhelmed as you tried to pick out some of what they were saying.

“Is your nose okay?”

“We were worried when you didn’t come in yesterday!”

“Is it broken? It looks the same…”

“Gentlemen!” You announced, raising your hands up. They all stopped, the silence a huge contrast from a moment before. “My nose is fine, and not broken. It’s just very bruised and painful. I just needed to get some work done and rest my head yesterday, but I missed you all too.”

They all calmed, even looking happy at your words.

“Where’s the bruising?” Van Damme asked, looking closely at your face. “I don’t see any.” You pulled your face away.

“I’m wearing makeup, goofy.” He straightened, making an O shape with his mouth.

“Women are so magical with their makeup abilities,” Dani said in a dreamy tone. “Shapeshifters, they are.” Rolling your eyes with the biggest smile on your face, you turned around and returned to Jamie, who had been watching the whole exchange with an amused grin.

“They really like ya,” He informed you. In the middle of pulling your notepad from your pocket, you froze and looked at him.

“They were more than worried when you didn’t come yesterday, they were havin’ a strop about it.” He pulled his shirt off. You tried not to stare. “Kept askin’ me if you were in hospital or somethin’.” You looked around at the team, who were now getting changed and not paying you any mind. It hadn’t occurred to you that you hadn’t just turned things around with Jamie, you had also changed things with them, as well. When you had started coming around, just over a week ago, they were all standoffish towards you, sending glares at every chance and keeping their distance. Now, they seemed to care about you just as much as you cared about them.

The coaches entered, looking around at the team. Their eyes all fell on you at once, and you thought they would be indifferent. But they all seemed to look almost relieved at the sight of you. The moment was gone as quick as it started, as they began to address the team while you took your notes.

Back to business as usual.

It was an average day on the pitch. For the first hour, you watched as normal. But you began to feel yourself getting antsy, as it seemed to be something you had been watching the same thing over and over again. You thought about the things you’d need from the article. Plenty of pictures filled your phone of him playing, but maybe taking pictures of the stadium itself would be nice. There were lots of pictures and posters of him hanging out that had been proudly displayed by ownership. Maybe you could get a comment from someone who wasn’t a player.

Taking one last look at the pitch, you snuck off to the tunnel. You made an effort to not look back once more to see if your leaving was noticed. The prickle you felt on the back of your neck let you know that at least one person was watching you.

There was something so serene about the club when the hallways weren’t swimming with people. The history on the walls were so fascinating, and being able to have the chance to walk around and actually soak it in made you giddy. Meeting people and interviews were all well and good, but this was your favourite part of your job. The research, the learning, the things you got to see that the layperson did not. You looked at every picture of previous teams, looking for familiar faces and feeling excited when you actually found them.

When you got to the current team’s picture, you felt a surge of pride as you took a photo of it. This team had become so important to you in the last week, and you found yourself wondering if you would feel the same in a week, a month, even a year. Would they say hello if they saw you at an event? Would they reply to your comment amongst a sea of fan replies on Instagram? Would they even care to remember you once you're gone?

As per usual these days, your thoughts floated back to Jamie, the same questions still standing. You knew these feelings went far beyond friendship at this point. Would it even matter, in the end, after you went back to your normal job? You’re just you, and he is Jamie Tartt, footballer legend extraordinaire, the best of his generation. He had pieces done about him all the time by interviewers from around the world. Fans adored him, and would cry, yell and faint on the street over him. He met women and men who were, let’s face it, richer, more beautiful and more interesting than you ever could’ve dreamed of.

You were just a silly little journalist who caught a silly little crush on the mad famous footballer. The one who, incidentally, you had hated just a few months prior. What a world.

“Are you alright?”

You shrieked, whirling around to find Rebecca Welton standing there looking like an absolute bombshell while also looking positively fearful.

“I’m so sorry,” She said as you slapped a hand over your chest. “I just saw you standing there-”

“No no, it’s alright,” You said, finally catching your breath. The skin on your cheeks felt like it was melting off from how hot they were. “I just got lost in thought, is all. I’m okay. How are you, Rebecca?” She looked surprised, even hesitant, by your question.

“I’m well, thank you.”

The two of you just stood there for a long moment, looking around awkwardly. You put your phone in your pocket before folding your hands together in front of you. This was the first time you had seen or spoken to her since the first day. While you weren’t going out of your way to avoid her, it did make you feel better to not see her. The first impression you had gotten was that she didn’t really want you around, so you felt you were helping her out by keeping yourself scarce.

“The team seems to have warmed up to you,” She said, a little quickly. “Keeley says that Jamie and you have become… quite close?” You nodded.

“Shocking, I know,” You said with a laugh. “It was a surprise to everyone.” You wished deeply in that moment that she was easier to read. She was smiling, but she was the type of person where she could smile at you while also planning your murder and allocating the resources and money for it at the same time.

“I do hope that means that the negative articles about my players stop,” She said, still smiling. In this moment, you wished desperately that you were back on the pitch. Or maybe dead in an alley. Anywhere, really, would be better than this.

“Yes, I’ll find someone else to slander,” You said. Your heart dropped, stunned, when she actually laughed at this. The sound of it sucked the air from your lungs.

She began to walk away, but stopped, raising a finger before turning back to face you.

“Are you still going to the Gala?”

You looked back at her again.

“I am,” You told her. “Wouldn’t miss it!” She nodded, looking around the hallway before back at you.

“Have you decided on an outfit yet?” She asked. “It’s black tie.” You shook your head.

“I have some dresses in my closet. I’ll probably go with one of those.” This time, it was her turn to shake her head.

“Oh. No, no,” She said, waving you off. She looked you up and down, seeming to assess you. You could practically see the wheels turning in her mind. “I’ll send you some ideas. You let me know which one you want, and I’ll have it sent to your apartment by morning.”

Your eyebrows knitted together, your mouth now agape.

“Rebecca, I can’t let you do that,” You said, the shock filling your voice. “I appre-” She waved you off again, which made you shut your mouth.

“I won’t hear a word otherwise,” She said before giving you a lovely smile. “Just let me know which one you think suits you best. Preferably by the end of the day.” She turned around and began to make her way down the hall, leaving you dumbfounded.

“Thank you!” You called after her. She didn’t speak, but instead she waved behind her. You continued to watch her.

“Do you already know where I live or something?”

When the team returned to the changing room, you were already on the bench in front of Jamie’s locker with your legs crossed atop the wood. You had returned to take pictures of the locker room, having gotten what you wanted from the rest of the stadium. Now, you sat on your phone, scrolling through the dresses that Rebecca had sent you.

“Where’d you disappear off to?” Jamie asked, leaning over your shoulder to see what you were looking at. He let out a low whistle. “What are those for?”

“The Gala,” You said, trying and failing to hold back your excitement. “Rebecca said she’d get me whatever dress I want. For free!” You huffed. “I can’t decide which one though.” Snatching your phone from your hands, he began to scroll through them himself.

“These are for you?” He asked quietly, looking at you before looking at the dresses. You eyed him nervously, about to ask him to give you his honest opinion when-

“What’s for you?” Sam asked, taking the phone from Jamie, who gave him an angry look. Sam studied the phone, about to open his mouth before Isaac took the phone from him, who then had it immediately stolen by Van Damme.

“This one is lovely,” Van Damme said as he started to show you which one he was referring to, but then Richard snatched it from him. When he looked through the options, he snorted.

“You are crazy!” He said to Van Damme. “The best one is this one!” Colin yanked the phone, although it was quite a fight this time as Richard had quite the grip on it.

“This one would really bring out her eyes though,” Colin retorted, showing Richard another one. Dani grabbed the phone and looked, giving you a precious smile.

“You would look lovely in all of these,” He said kindly. You blushed while Bumbercatch looked over Dani’s shoulder.

“You have to pick the best one, bruv,” Isaac grunted. “We already know she’d look lovely in all of them!” You peaked over at Jamie, who was a mix of annoyed and amused. Everyone began debating, voices louder and louder as time went on. You watched the entire thing without the smiling on your face faltering at any point.

The door to the coaches’ office burst open, and Roy and Coach Beard made their way out. Their presence did not calm a soul in the room.

“OI!” Roy shouted. Everyone froze to look at him. He looked around at everyone, being sure that every single person in the room got an individual glare before saying, “What the hell is going on here?”

Within ten minutes, the dresses had been printed out and taped to the whiteboard, your phone having thankfully been returned. Coach Beard was at the board with a pointer in his hand. Everyone was talking over each other.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen, let’s talk this out like adults,” Beard exclaimed as the voices slowly came to a stop. “Now through door number one is this lovely ankle length dress with a straight cut neckline and spaghetti straps.” He paused for a second, presumably for the drama. “Elegant. One might even say… chic. A beautiful red for a black tie evening. Will definitely stand out.”

“What if she doesn’t want to stand out?” Jamie called out.

“It’s a Charity Gala, Tartt. Every woman wants to stand out!” Isaac shouted.

Jamie rolled his eyes, mumbling under his breath about how none of these blokes know you at all. You ignored the flutter in your tummy as you continued to watch the mayhem.

“Door numero dos!” Beard exclaimed, a little louder this time. “A pink mini dress with a frilly skirt, heart neckline and no straps.” You shrugged.

“I don’t know if I have the tits for that one?” You admitted. The room erupted, everyone yelling at you. You shrugged defensively, throwing your hands up. “I’m just saying!” They continued to pop off.

“You have beautiful tits!”

“It’s not the tits, it’s the heart of the girl who wears them!”

“Who made you feel so self conscious about your tits? I’ll fucking end them with my bare hands.”

“Oi!” Jamie stood up, raising his hands and looking at the team. “Stop fuckin’ talkin’ about her tits, yeah?” Everyone mumbled in agreement as Jamie slowly sank back into the seat. “Fuckin’ innappropriate that is. Borderline sexual harassment, in my opinion.”

“And last, but certainly not least,” Coach Beard continued. “We have a long, floor length black dress, slit down the skirt, with a straight neckline and no straps.”

“It’s too similar to the first one!” Sam pointed out, which the rest of them roared in disagreement.

“You just don’t understand fashion, Sam,” Colin said, ignoring Sam’s look of absolute disgust and shock towards the back of his head.

“But it’s better than the first one,” Richard pointed out. “The skirt slit makes it just-” He lifted his fingers to his mouth, kissing them before opening them again. “Chef’s kiss.”

“It has the elegance of the first one without being… aggressive with the redness,” Isaac remarked.

They continued to debate passionately. You looked at Jamie, who, for the first time since you had ever known him, remained perfectly silent, just listening.

“What do you think?” You asked him, in a quiet voice so only he could hear you. He looked over in surprise, eyebrows to his hairline.

“Me? You want my opinion?” He asked. You shrugged.

“I’m getting everyone else's, may as well chime in,” You said. You decided not to tell him that as much as you loved the chorus of loud opinions coming from the rest of the room, the one you wanted most was his. He stared at you, searching your eyes, before turning and looking at the dresses. A few moments passed before inhaled deeply and spoke again.

“The black one.” It was so confident of an answer. “Number three.”

“Why that one?” You asked, turning to look at it again.

“The first one makes you look like you’re going to your ex husband’s weddin’ and you’re tryin’ to make a point. The second one looks like somethin’ you’d wear to the premiere of a children’s movie.” He looked at you again, his eyes going up and down your body, before turning back to the board. “The black one just feels like you. It’s simple, but still se- still nice.” He nodded in confirmation. The two of you met eyes again and he swallowed. “The black one is perfect.”

Not waiting another second, you stood up.

“I’ve made my decision.”

They all looked at you expectantly. You paused for dramatic affect, and the longer you waited, the more impatient they all got. It was a little exhilarating.

“Number 3,” You declared. “I’m picking the black one.”

The room erupted once more, a mix of enthusiasm and disappointment. Before it could get too chaotic, Jamie stood.

“It’s her fuckin’ choice, yeah?” He yelled. “Either be happy for her or keep your mouth fuckin’ shut.” Despite the aggression in his words, you could see the twinkle in his eye, and when he met your eye, he winked before smiling at you.

It wasn’t until you went to sleep that night that the smile on your face faltered, but even in your sleep, there was still a slight whisper of one on your lips.

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction

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brown-sugar-89 · 5 months

Text

Gee, I never considered making a proper pinned post, but I feel like I really need one now so...

Hi! Welcome to my blog!!!

This is a side blog of mine. My name is Brwnerinq, or Era is for short, or Brown Sugar, or any other derivative really.. I make Pizza Tower or Sugary Spire content! Here are some of the pieces I personally enjoy so you get what I aim for ..!!!

You can use my art however you'd like to (like profile pictures, headers, etc.) but make sure to not claim it because it's a bad thing to do.. !!!!

My asks are opened too! Feel free to request (if it's SS or PT related) me or ask me anything, except don't force me.. I'm a slow-paced artist..

Here are also some useful links so you get the idea what's going on here!. :^D The list might update in the future but it's what I have atm ❤️

Fake Pizzelle, or Metal Pizzelle, or Pizzybot.

Sugary Swap or SwapSwap. Pizzelle and Pizzano turn back to their The Noise and Peppino's roles, but keep other one's SS personalities.

Sugary Spire: Sweet DreamS! Old lore based AU with Noisette involved.

My WHAT IF of Evil Pizzelle. Instead of a tumblr sexy man that evil Pep is, she's just a straight-up failure and her life is ruined.

My sona!

My main blog where I used to post DHMIS art.

Commissions info if you ever feel like charging me one!

And if you search for #ooc tag on my blog, instead of art you'll see just me rambling about everything..

This has to be all.. thank you for reading! <3 Please, have a good stay!

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ladymarycrawley · 1 year

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A bit too real - Trent Alexander-Arnold

Request: Can you write a fic where the reader and taa are having sex and his BEREAL notification goes off? (as requested by @princessbetsy123-blog)

Warning: a bit smut at the beginning but just that

Tag list: @masonxomount @chelsealover

“Oh Trent” You moaned as he was busy kissing your thighs. While his eyes were fixed on you, his fingers moved your mint green slip to the side to savour your wetness.

His skilled lips against your most sensistive spot was what you needed to unwind, after a long and stressful week. To have him all for you, his body and mind. You tilted your head back in pleasure as he would use his hand to keep your thighs open for him to have a better angle to taste you.

An even louder moan filled the room.

Your heels pressing against his back, his tongue trying to reach for the spot that would make you see stars.

No one could spoil that perfect, blissful time...except for his phone that started buzzing with the notification tone, calling his attention.

“Oh my god Trent, really?” You asked quite annoyed with him leaving what he was doing to go and check his phone.

“Shit” He hissed looking at the screen.

“What’s wrong?”

Trent giggled and showed you the BeReal notification that was asking him to post a picture of what he was doing in that moment.

“You won’t” You sounded quite threatening in the attempt to warn him.

“Why not? It’s private after all…”

You widened your eyes in shock and blushed violently: was he really thinking about posting a picture of you two having sex?? Seriously??

“No Trent, you won’t post this”

He smirked, giving you a tender kiss on the tip of your nose. He loved seeing you getting all shy and flustered from embarrassment, that was you being your truest self and he loved it.

“I’m serious”

He ignored your protest and snapped a photo of you, in your knickers only, your hair covering your breast together with a selfie of him pulling a funny face.

“Look”

Your boyfriend couldn’t stop laughing while you weren’t amused by all of that in the slightest.

“Delete that thing now”

Of course Trent didn’t have the faintest idea of exposing you two like that, given also the fact that he had always been rather private about your relationship, so he just took it to tease you, he wanted to delete it and put the phone away but he didn’t realise he pressed the wrong button…

“Where were we?” He smirked, taking his position back between your thighs.

Damn, he was irresistible.

You smirked back at him and tried to relax under his touch, guiding his head back against your aching core.

Later that night, after having taken a hot shower, as Trent was busy cooking dinner for the two of you , you decided to relax a little scrolling through your phone but it turned out to be the least relaxing thing you could have done as an unknown number of notifications, alluding to an x-rated photo of you, appeared on your screen.

What were they referring to? Trent didn’t post that pic, he just took it and then deleted it…did some paparazzi hack your phone??

Trent seemed so calm at the stove, carelessly humming. You walked towards him as you needed to ask him what was happening.

“Trent…why are they all talking about some pictures of us?”

“It must be something caught by the paps” He answered absentmindedly while stirring what was boiling in the pot. “Where did you see it?”

“On my phone. I have like dozens of notifications asking or making jokes about this alleged photos but I don’t know what they’re talking about…it can’t be the BeReal one since you didn’t post it”

Those words triggered something in the Liverpool player’s head: he widened his eyes in shock and left what he was doing in a hurry to go and check his own phone. He was soon welcomed with the same unknown number of notifications, all about this supposed picture.

The only thing he could do was open the app, hoping his suspects were wrong but when he found that pic of the two of you in bed he snapped as a joke posted on his profile, he couldn’t do anything but curse himself.

Apart from all the comments, there were also some screenshots that had been taken…how could he be so clueless to have pressed the wrong button and posted it instead of deleting it?

“Erm…Y/N I -”

“TRENT ALEXANDER-ARNOLD YOU POSTED THAT PIC!!” You screamed, looking at his phone screen in disbelief.

“I’m so sorry!! I didn’t mean to, I just -” He was trying to delete it while you were reporting it as sensitive content. “Did you just report it??”

“Yes, what did you expect me to do?? Oh god” You facepalmed yourself as you were already pondering the idea of not leaving the house ever again.

“Calm down baby. I’m so sorry, I should have ignored that stupid notification"

Needless to say you were panicking, the images of people talking about you on the web and those hideous titles on the tabloids vivid in your mind…it was too much to take. You felt like throwing up.

"Y/N? Are you okay?"

"Not really…"

Trent huffed, mentally cursing himself, as he sat next to you, his arm slung around your shoulders.

"Look, I'm so sorry, I've been an idiot, a complete idiot, but nothing bad will happen. I give you my word"

The unmistakable sincerity of his words made you raise your gaze to look him straight in the eyes.

You would've gone through fire for him as he always made sure to have your back so you should have trusted him that time too, he would have done everything in his power to protect you.

You nodded, laying your head on his shoulder.

"I love you"

"I love you too, drama queen" He giggled, pressing his lips against your forehead.

"I wouldn't have been a drama queen if you had paid attention to what you posted" You rolled your eyes, clearly annoyed.

"You're always a drama queen, don't blame it on me now"

Far be it from you to bring any more drama in that situation but your nose started smelling something burning.

"What's this burning smell?"

"What - OH FUCK" The meal Trent was preparing was long forgotten on the stove as the BeReal thing was your priority at the moment, so you had now another thing to worry about: your burnt dinner.

He jogged over to the kitchen as he was found with that unpleasant surprise.

You loved him so much you swore he looked like the most adorable puppy ever, with his big brown eyes now misty with disappointment and his lower lip stretched out in a pout. A smile spontaneously formed on your lips, as you hugged him from behind. Your head was resting against his back before you lifted it to place a loving kiss behind his neck.

"No dinner tonight I guess"

“Come on, I’m waiting for some joke about me being the worst boyfriend ever or something like that” He muttered, alluding to the snarky remarks you would usually make.

“You’re the worst boyfriend ever but at least you took a pic where I had my latest lingerie set on” Your joke made him giggle as he lovingly squeezed your hands wrapped around his middle.

Burnt food and a sexy scandal, what else could you have asked for for a perfect night in?

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casualartisanninja · 1 month

Text

This was a long time coming.

So, first of all I’m sorry that this took me so long to make, but there was a lot of information to sift through. I’m not planning on coming back to Tumblr in any capacity beyond this but the truth needs to be out there. (And if you're curious about the profile picture/description/etc, I had to dress this blog up a bit so it didn't look like a bot and trigger any algorithms.)

Content warnings for this post:

Heavily discusses kinks and has screenshots of fetish art

References grooming/pedophilia accusations

References transphobia/harassment accusations

This is going to be an EXTREMELY long post with lots of screenshots, so the rest is under a cut.

Edit: Here is the end of the post so you can read it all at once. https://www.tumblr.com/casualartisanninja/747977941832613888/loose-ends

The incident in Hobqueer’s server

I think a good place to start would be the spark that set off this whole chain reaction.

I’m not sure how long I’d been in that server for when the NSFW in general incident happened. But one thing’s for sure - I didn’t start the conversation about NSFW topics. Like I mentioned on the Reddit post where someone had found me and started accusing me under my comment on the Janitor.AI post, I saw the people there discussing mpreg and oviposition. I looked at it and thought “wow the rules are a lot more lax than I initially thought!”. Yes, I know, looking back, that should’ve been a huge red flag. I also know that, looking back, I should never talk about NSFW in the general chat- even if everyone else is doing it. “If so-and-so jumped off a cliff” and all. I’m really sorry that I did that, and it was definitely a lesson for me. But I really wasn’t thinking about that at the time. It wasn’t my intention to hurt anyone, and I especially wouldn’t have done it if I knew minors would be there. I know it wasn’t an 18+ server, and it was just a frankly idiotic move on my part. I just saw “Sniper pregnant” and pictures of the mercs with big bellies, and let my better judgment and reasoning get clouded. However, the way that they’re portraying this incident is extremely intellectually dishonest. Gabriel failed to mention in his callout post that those minors were looking at and sharing fetish art of the mercs, leaving out most of the context for those. Thankfully one of my friends from Chipspeech (who I’ll leave anonymous) joined the server to check and see if the fetish art was still there. It was. Hobqueer and the moderators never deleted any of the discussion, and worst of all they left the fetish pictures up in full view of everybody. One person, who later admitted to being a minor in a dm, even gave a pretty graphic description of a tentacle hentai/mpreg comic. Be warned, this contains NSFW content. I blurred the names of anybody who isn't mentioned in this post.

I've run out of room for images, so I have to add the rest in another reblog. This will be a very long thread with a lot of images, so please bear with me.

#mavisposting #xxcherenkov-gremlinxx #allegations #accusations #explanation #debunking #tf2 fandom #chipspeech fandom

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aew-kun-age-regression · 10 months

Note

Hey! I love your blog and your blog has really helped me be more open about my age regression. Would you be open to write a story about cg!hotch X cg!reid X little reader? Thanks have a great day💕

Hii!! I am sooo sorry this took so long!! I was having really bad writers block and then I completely forgot about all the story requests I had!!

I'm so glad my blog has helped you with your age regression!! <3

I hope this is okay 😅

"At work.."

Pairings: Caregiver!Aaron Hotchner, Spencer Reid x Little!Reader.

Summary: You slip at work, lucky your caregivers are there to help.

Warnings: the briefest mentions of a case revolving children, nicknames (daddy, dada, sweetheart, sweetie, bub, kiddo.)

Daddy - Hotch

Dada - Reid

(Gender Neutral Reader)

‼️ THIS IS NOT NSFW ‼️

NOT Proofread

You were currently sat at your desk. It was one of the rare days that the bau were in the office, working on paperwork.

You'd been slipping all day and we're finding it increasingly difficult to focus on the folder that sat currently in front of you.

The bau were unaware that you were a regressor. Well apart from Spencer Reid and Aaron Hotchner. They both knew. They had become your caregivers.

Hotch was the first to know after he found you in a cupboard in a hotel after a particularly hard case involving children, he'd noticed how upset you'd been during the case and was originally going to just check up on you, but upon finding you crying, with a pacifier in your mouth he'd had a change of plans. He spent that evening watching over you and then proceeded to approach you on the topic in the morning when you were no longer small.

Spencer had found out soon after. He was good at profiling and had noticed your childlike innocence. He spoke to Hotch who in turn spoke to him about the situation, asking Reid not to mention this to anyone else.

Soon after that interaction there was an incident where you had slipped at work. Hotch was too busy to be able to watch you so Spence volunteered. You ended up having lots of fun with him. And so from that point on both Hotch and Spencer became your caregivers.

Spencer approached you slowly.

"Sweetheart you feeling small..?" He asked you quietly.

You looked up panicked.

"it's okay sweetie.. it's just dada.."

You nodded, tears in your eyes.

"oh it's okay bub.. Do you wanna go see Daddy??"

You nodded again.

Spencer gently took your hand in his own and led you to Hotch's office, knocking gently on the door.

A simple "come in" from Hotch was all it took before Spencer guided you into the room.

"Reid?? What's wrong??" Hotch asked upon seeing you holding his hand.

"They slipped whilst doing some paperwork and I thought it would be best for them to calm down and be regressed in here instead of in the open.." Spencer spoke looking to Hotch.

Hotch gently hugged you.

"do you want to do some colouring kiddo?"

You nodded eagerly.

Aaron took your hand from Reid.

"can you go get their regression bag from the boot of my car??"

"of course"

Reid left to go get your bag whilst Hotch got you settled on the couch in his office.

"now daddy has to carry on working but I'll be in here with you, yeah?"

"mhm.."

"okay Sweetheart."

Reid came back quickly, knocking on the door and then slipping in. He placed the bag down next to you and kissed your forehead.

"I'm going to get back to work before the others start asking questions. Have fun okay bub?"

"okii dada!!"

"okay Reid."

You and Hotch answered.

You ended up colouring 4 different pictures, you chose to do two for each of your caregivers. Labeling 'dada' and 'daddy' on the respective colourings.

Hotch decided to drive both you and Spencer back to Reid's house.

Hotch made you dinner whilst Spencer sat with you reading.

You fell asleep calmly knowing that your caregivers would always be there to help you when needed.

#agere blog #sfw agere #sfw littlespace #sfw little post #little space #agere little #aewlittlerambles #sfw little community #aewlittlestories #criminal minds agere #caregiver!aaron hotchner #caregiver!spencer reid #little reader #little!reader

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didalexiabreakupwitholgayet · 9 days

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Just a random non-hating opinion. I know twitter-tumblr-instagram cycle information and you end up not knowing about where it has come from but your post on Alexia's sister's surgical appointment made me realise that we're not that far from Harry Styles stalker fans than we think

Istg some people need to STOP because I've seen a tweet and that someone was close to searching all kindergartens of Catalunya just to get an "inedit" picture of Alexia as a baby

You do so well informing, the purpose of the blog, but also stopping this because I live nearby where Crnogorcevic lived until last year and there were fans there almost every morning. This, the ciutat esportiva drama and also on social media? Some people call footballers "dry" when they don't post or sign but they don't owe us anything and are not perfect puppets to serve the masses (remember the Earps incident this year?)

thanks for your comments, anon, but sadly i think those types of fans are already here! and coincidentally, the twitter algorithm just showed me a fight between fans about the kindergarten picture of alexia you referred to in your ask! 👀

to me, people are respectful for the most part on tumblr, but i've seen all sorts of things crossing the line on twitter and instagram, including fans posting private photos, circulating paparazzi photos that players asked to be removed, directly tagging players on cringe/inappropriate posts, and commenting on the social media accounts of player family members, friends, and significant others. 🤦‍♀️ (please don't break the fourth wall!)

i get that defining the line and boundaries can sometimes be difficult, and obviously there are issues like parasocial relationships with these players. it's the price of increased attention and fandom, and we definitely want more recognition and accolades and brand deals for these amazing athletes, but we can do better.

i remember when fandom was a lot smaller and you could have 5+ minute conversations with players after matches, and players used to be a lot more open with their time and selves. things have changed and we have to respect that. plus, the ciutat esportiva nonsense is infuriating. i know that players, including alexia, have complained about that and asked for extra security.

i've established some boundaries for my posts, and try to post from public sources only or directly from the player's ig profiles. for example, my alexia as a child post are photos from her and her sister's open accounts only.

and finally, i know we all love to gossip, but i really want to stick to these types of sources, and not go tooooo far down the rumour and innuendo rabbit hole. (i'm guilty of this and will try to do better!)

#fcb femení #futfem #woso

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robertdowneyjjr · 7 months

Note

hey, so. funny thing.

@whinysteve and i have been going insane for like two days because we couldn't find this one fic we really liked, and we both remembered reading it not so long ago but somehow neither of us could recall how it ended? and we kept saying that it's so GOOD and how the heck did it just disappear? well, after hours of losing my mind going through my ao3 history, the steve/tony tag with various keywords, the findingstony blog... it. it hit me that i can't find it because it doesn't exist. because it was the soulmates au idea you posted like two weeks ago where their words only show up after they've met their soulmate.

i thought you might find this amusing. 😩 (i do, but i also need to lie down for a bit because i will never know how steve fixed that mess)

hahahaha omg liv if this is your way of peer pressuring me into writing the whole fic i might actually do it??? because your ask has got me thinking about what would happen next.

that said, steve still hasn't figured out how to fix this mess. i'm very sorry about this.

(stonyclunks soulmates au part one here)

---

having been rescued by SHIELD, news of steve's recovery was immediately delivered to howard stark who, while not as involved with SHIELD as he used to be, still receives weekly reports as one of its co-founders.

he'd gone home that night and brought it up in the middle of cutting his steak. coincidentally, tony had been visiting that day and stayed for dinner, so he found out about captain america's miraculous resurrection before the general public did, and honestly, he had enough of hearing about how great this guy was growing up. he really didn't need to keep hearing about it as an adult after he'd finally worked through his issues with his dad and his obsession with a (not quite) dead war hero.

so after howard's announcement, tony politely requested howard refrain from talking about this guy with him.

"i know he's your friend, and you'll probably be spending a bit of time with him now that he's been found, and i'm really happy for you, but i think it would be better for our relationship if we could talk about literally anything but him," he'd said.

and, well. howard was trying. he knew he wasn't the best dad and he also wanted to do right by maria, who spent so many years torn between her son and her husband while trying to mend their relationship. they were finally in a relatively good place with each other which made maria happy. and to be frank, howard had actually come to really enjoy tony's company whenever he was home. he was quite happy too. so he agreed. they don't talk about steve and howard doesn't ask tony to meet steve.

that very night, tony made sure 'captain america' and 'steve rogers' were muted in all his news feeds and social channels.

he literally doesn't know a single thing about the man besides what he learned in his childhood, which he's blocked out. it's a peaceful two years of blissful ignorance.

fast forward to now, tony's packing up his suitcase and getting ready to check out of his hotel when he sees a text from his mom in their family group chat.

seems he's not quite the perfect role model you always made him out to be, howard 🤡, her message reads.

what follows is a link to an instagram post, and from the message preview he can see that it's steve rogers' profile, and under normal circumstances he wouldn't even bother clicking the link.

but 1) maria usually never brings up the man in tony's presence either, and 2) her comment made him laugh. so color tony intrigued.

he taps the link and sees the post. it's a picture of a coffee cup from the place he was at a week ago. the one where he got body slammed by his mysterious dick of a soulmate and unfairly yelled at for it.

he reads the caption and his legs give out under him.

i don't even know if you'll see this, but all i can do is hope. i'm sorry for the words that have made their mark on you. i know i don't deserve it, but i'm hoping you could give me a second chance. i won't yell at you this time, i promise. yours, a fucking asshole

one week ago, captain america was barely even a blip on tony's radar and that's how he preferred it. now, steve rogers is tony's mysterious dick of a soulmate.

what the fuck even is his life.

#they have a lot to work through!! but they'll get there #also i'm determined to write good dad howard at least once in my life #i think tony deserves it in an au at the very least #anyway howard texts steve and he's like 'my wife thinks you're a dramatic bitch'#'good luck with whatever mess you've got yourself in lol drinks next week?'#steve who still hasn't received any DMs from his soulmate a week later follows howard home like a lost puppy #because he's sad and just wants to whine a bit longer #guess who they see getting out of the car with maria after a night at the opera 😃#stevetony #stony #tony stark #steve rogers #stonyclunks soulmates au #kay writes things #soliloquent-stark #ask

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straykeedz · 8 months

Text

day 3: changbin + blowjob

©straykeedz

tw: changbin’s stressed so reader literally asks him to use their mouth as a fleshlight (i’m sorry💀); oral (m receiving, duh 🙄); a bit of throat fucking; cum swallowing; mention of showering together; ♡

wc: 2,1k

this is part of my kinktober masterlist. you can find my regular masterlist here (tho it will not be updated until the end of kinktober). ♡

smut below the cut so minors dni.

to join the taglist you haven to be over 18 (please have an age indicator on your profile) and have a profile picture. no blank blogs. ♡

✧

When you enter your shared bedroom, you’re surprised to find Changbin sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees as his face is buried in his hands. He doesn’t acknowledge your presence in the room, too focused in whatever’s going on inside his head. You let out a heavy sigh as you make your way inside the room - the faint light of the lamp on his nightstand being the only source of light in your bedroom. You don’t know what’s up with your fiancé lately, but whatever it is - it’s starting to worry you.

You get closer to him, but he’s still not aware of you being in the same room as him, so you call his name to get his attention. “Binnie…”, your voice is sweet, and your fingers immediately find their way to his soft, curly hair, freshly washed.

He immediately snaps his head up in your direction, letting his arms fall limp along his sides as he stares at you like an abandoned puppy, big, brown eyes looking into yours. He looks absolutely wrecked, defeated, and you hate it. You want to ease the weight on his shoulders, but you’re also aware of the fact that he doesn’t like to be forced to open up about his feelings.

“Y/n…”, he calls your name softly, spreading his legs even wider to accommodate your body between them, wrapping his limbs around your figure and resting his forehead on your stomach, you don’t stop caressing his soft hair.

“Everything alright, Bin?”, you murmur, and you feel him shaking his head against your stomach. “Wanna talk about it?”

He sighs deeply. “Life’s just being a bitch lately.”, he says, tone defeated and tired.

“Something happened at work?”, you try.

Being a worldwide famous idol and producer is not easy, Changbin learned it the hard way. You honestly understand where this is coming from, and just wish you could ease some of his pressure from his shoulders.

“Not really, the usual.”, he mutters. “I’ve been feeling unproductive lately, that’s all. Can’t find the inspiration and everything I produce is shit.”

Now you get why he’s been sulking more than usual the past days. Changbin hates when he’s feeling uninspired - he doesn’t like to be forced to write lyrics or produce music, as he feels it’s not genuine. So, he find himself stuck in a limbo: being stressed because unproductive and being unproductive because stressed, and it’s driving him crazy.

“I think you should take some time off to yourself.”, you suggest, placing your hands on his broad shoulders to give him a massage, knowing he loves feeling your hands on him. “You know, just a couple of days - you’re too stressed.”

He practically moans when your fingers press on the muscles of his clavicle. Another defeated sigh leaves his mouth, and you feel his strong arms hold you tighter as he nuzzles his face against your stomach.

“I can’t do that.”, he grunts. “They need me, I can’t take a day off, let alone a couple.”, you can’t see him, but he rolls his eyes. Honestly, he wishes he could just not go to work for a while and rest peacefully and maybe enjoy a good meal instead of eating instant ramen every other day, but the agency’s been biting his ass and pressuring him into writing more music, and they’d never allow him to do that.

“Mh.”, you hum sadly, sincerely concerned about him. “This just means we’ll have to find another way to get you relaxed and to relieve some of your stress…”, you trail, the grip on his shoulder a bit more intense now, and you hope he got the hint. He snaps his head up to meet your eyes, and by the smirk that appears on his lips, it looks like he did.

“Oh, yeah?”, he raises his eyebrows, grinning. “And what did you have in mind?”, he purrs, his hands moving from your thighs to your ass, cupping and squeezing the flesh as you bite your lip.

“Mhh, I was thinking of something on the line of…”, you bend a little to whisper the following words in his ear, knowing it’ll drive him crazy. “You using my mouth like a fleshlight to get off.” When you pull away, you find him looking at you with his eyes wide open and his mouth agape, shocked by your words. “Would you like that?”

It’s a stupid question and an understatement, Changbin thinks, because you should see the way his cock practically came to life as soon as his brain processed what you’d said. So, instead of answering with words like a normal human being - he frantically nods, looking at you with big, brown puppy eyes as he licks his lips in anticipation.

“How do you want me?”, you ask, and he feels like he’s about to pass out.

“On your knees, love, please.” Changbin’s tone is demanding yet sweet at the same time - even when he’s in the mood to dominate you in bed, he can’t find it in himself to be too rough or too harsh with you, nor to offend you with words, even though you reassured him plenty of times that it’s okay if he does, that you like it.

You nod eagerly, a smile spreading on your face as you kneel before him, positioning yourself between his spread thighs - thankfully, there’s a fluffy rug at the end of the bed, so that you don’t hurt your knees when you go down on him, though it’s not the reason why you bought it. Maybe.

You automatically reach for his cock, still confined in his sweats, but rock hard nonetheless, and squeeze it through the thin fabric. Changbin doesn’t usually wear boxers to sleep, he doesn’t like how tight they feel against his skin, so that allows to feel him a bit closer. However, it’s not enough, and Changbin swiftly hooks his thumb on the hem of his sweats and pulls them off, lifting his body from the mattress just enough to let them slide off his ass and thighs.

When you finally wrap your fingers around his length, Changbin hisses and closes his eyes shut, too blessed in the feeling. It’s been a while since you’d last done that - with his busy schedule, he also had had to sacrifice long, steamy, lovemaking sessions, and your intimacy had mainly sticked to quickies or spooning sex lately, with basically zero foreplay.

You spit on your fingers to coat them in your saliva, which you use as a lubricant, before starting to jerk him off - slowly, just how he likes it. When he does it to himself, he does it fast, but when you’re the one with your hand around his cock - he wishes the feeling would last forever. He kicks his head back when you brush his slit with the pad of your thumb, gripping the sheets beneath him as you spread his pre-cum all over his cockhead.

“Mhh, like that.”, he moans, cock twitching in your hand. “I love it when you touch me.”, he opens his eyes to look at you.

You smile at him. “And I love touching you.”, you bite your lower lip as you bring your mouth closer to his dick.

Changbin feels his soul leave his body when you wrap your lips around the tip of his cock, warm, wet mouth engulfing him - sensation so good it’s almost enough to make him cum on the spot. He almost forgot how your mouth feels like around him, and the feeling sends a shiver down his spine and a pleasant tingle in his cock, all the way from his base to the tip.

“God, how I love your mouth.”, his words are followed by a shaky breath as he feels you taking him deeper in your mouth - albeit not without struggling because of his girth. Changbin brings one hand to your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb as he witness your mouth being stuffed with his fat cock.

You pull away, letting his cock fall out of your mouth as you continue to jerk him off, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to it, a sight that has Changbin biting on his lower lip. “Wanna fuck it?”, you ask, a bit breathlessly.

Changbin’s eyes widen and his breath gets stuck in his throat. “Yes.”, he responds, equally breathlessly. “God, yes.”

Changbin sucks in a breath when you wrap your lips around him once again, and he wastes no time in tangling his fingers in your hair in a very messy ponytail, careful to not pull your hair too hard as he slowly pushes you down on his cock, slurping sounds blessing his ears as you sink deeper on his length. He can feel your spit dripping from your mouth and all over his shaft, some ending on his balls, and his other hand grips even tighter on the bedsheets as he flexes the muscles of his thighs in order to control himself.

An obscene whimper leaves his mouth when you gag around him. “Oh, my God.”, goosebumps all over his skin. “Y-Yeah, just like that.”, he moans. “Choke on my cock like that.”

He kicks his head back as he continues to push your mouth on his cock to the point the tip of your nose is buried in the soft, trimmed hair on his pubic bone, his tip hitting the back of your throat with each movement as you hum around him. When your other hand finds its way to his balls, he nearly chokes on air and pulls you away from his cock, giving you time to regain your breath. When he looks at you - you have mascara running all over your face, and saliva drooling on your chin, mixed with his arousal. He thinks it’s the most beautiful sight ever, but of course he’s biased.

“Gonna fuck your throat now, love.”, his tone is sweet even when he says such filthy things to you. “Tap on my thigh if it gets too much, alright?”, he caresses your cheek sweetly.

You nod eagerly, and he stands up from the bed, towering above you. You moan when he wraps his own fingers around the base of his cock and slaps your mouth with his hard length, albeit lightly. You immediately part your lips when he aligns his cock to your mouth, welcoming him inside of you once again. Then, his hands move to each side of your face to keep you in place as he starts to rock his hips.

At first, he goes slow, his cock only halfway inside your mouth, giving you time to adjust to his length and to regulate your breathing through your nose. Once he’s made sure you’re okay, he starts to thrust inside your mouth, each time deeper and deeper until he’s fully buried inside your throat.

“You’re doing so good, love.”, he moans, pulling out almost all the way only to thrust back inside your mouth, squelching sounds filling the room together with his whimpers and your hums, clearly pleased with the way he’s using your throat to get off. After all, it’s what you asked him to do. “Looking so good with my cock in your throat.”, he pulls away a couple of locks of hair from your face, then entangles his fingers in your hair once again as he starts to thrust faster and faster, evidently close to finding his release.

“Mhh.”, his moans start to become more high-pitched, and his cock is throbbing in your throat. It’s only a matter of seconds before he shoots his load in your throat, reaching his yearned and deserved orgasm. “Go- God, I’m - fuck, I’m cumming, I’m cumming.”, he chants, knees buckling a little when he finally releases inside your mouth, hot spurts of his seed filling your mouth, some landing on your tongue, which you swallow gladly.

He pulls his cock out of you as soon as he’s made sure he’s given you until the very last drop of his cum, letting you regain your regular breathing as he brushes the skin of your face with his thumbs, trying to fix or at least clean your smudged mascara from under your eyes, smiling softly at you. He just loves you so much.

“Let me grab you a towel.”, he tells you sweetly, but before he can leave the room you stand up, legs feeling a bit shaky.

You shake your head as a no. “Come in the shower with me and then we can cuddle?”

Yes, Changbin is sure he’s found the love of his life in you.

✧

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-> don't forget to reblog to support me if you enjoyed reading my works and to let me know your thoughts, i love reading your feedbacks! ♡

#seo changbin smut #changbin smut #changbin #changbin hard thoughts #changbin hard hours #stray kids smut #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #skz smut #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours #changbin x reader #changbin x you #seo changbin hard thoughts #seo changbin hard hours

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 2 months

Note

Do you think William's reputation will survive? I feel so sorry for him and Catherine, I had to take a break from social media, the affair rumors are everywhere, everyone is now believing he had an affair, foreign media is now talking about him fathering an illegitimate child with Rose, they are even accusing him of domestic violence and people take it all as a fact.

In the long term big picture, William will be fine. A lot of this is going to be just a paragraph or two when he’s Charles’s age and we’re celebrating a jubilee or the birth of George’s child or Louis’s wedding or Charlotte leading the Lionesses to Olympic Gold and World Cup medals.

But in the short term, yes, William’s reputation will take a hit. What he does next will determine how long it takes for his reputation to climb back up. There are three things that he can do:

Prove that everyone is wrong, that his marriage is fine and he does not have anger management issues.

Go away and not be in the news for a few weeks or months till everyone’s forgotten.

Work. Really crank out the engagements, get his numbers up to spitting distance of Edward’s, and maintain them at that baseline from here on out.

#1 requires becoming more public, and we know that’s not going to happen for the Waleses. That’s fine. History will have to judge on that one. But there is some good news on this front - the Chumleys have had enough and they’ve begun taking legal action on the rumors involving them and their children.

#2 is not happening. William can’t just peace out and not work or be seen for 3-4 months. He’s the heir, it’s his job to be seen and to work, especially when Charles can’t do much because of his own health.

Which leaves us with #3 - work. I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again. William (and Kate) both need to work more. Their numbers both need to go way up once Kate’s current health crisis is over and she’s back to top form. If they’re not going to work more, that’s fine but they need to show us more of the in-progress work that they’re currently doing and not save it all for the bow-on-top end-result. There’s a reason why the photos and videos of The Queen and Charles working through the red boxes are popular and, at times, iconic - because it shows that they’re working. If just every other week we got a photo of William in a meeting or Kate reading the reports that the Early Years Foundation says she’s been reviewing.

However, the issue with William’s work is that it can’t be a one-and-done. What ever changes they make and whatever the new number is after they’ve scaled up, that has to be the new baseline, the new standard. It must be maintained, otherwise it becomes clear that it was just a PR exercise to distract from these scandals.

Something else I’ve been thinking of a bit lately is the Waleses’ engagement numbers, particularly Kate’s and since accession in 2022. There was a lot of talk throughout 2023 of how disappointing it was that the Waleses turned in the same numbers for 2023 as they did while they were Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, at the bottom of the list. There was an idea on the blogs that everyone understood William and Kate to keep a lower profile through the spring so the attention was rightly focused on Charles and the coronation, but then they’ve should’ve scaled up from late summer onwards, after the anniversary of The Queen’s passing to demonstrate their ability to be heirs and show acceptance of their future.

But now I wonder if Kate’s numbers have been affected by her condition. They haven’t said a whole lot, but what I know of bowel/stomach issues is that they’re usually chronic and people can suffer symptoms for a long time before surgery becomes an option. So with that, perhaps Kate’s numbers didn’t change much last year because she was dealing with these issues? And to save face, the palace made the usual “for the children” excuses until it became emergent and the surgery essential. Just something to think about.

#ask #brf #theories #waleses

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doodles-bi-tea · 6 months

Note

Hey I’m 🌱🫖 Anon the one that asked for that detailed Brad Bakshi fic, and I wanted to ask if you are going to release it or if you don’t feel like writing it anymore (it’s totally fine either way) is mostly just to know.

Also I love how you have decorated your blog with a F1 theme. I’m a fellow F1 fan (since childhood) and I’m also Spanish so seeing that you have a Carlos profile picture always makes my day ☺️

-🌱🫖

crying lightning (unfinished/pt. 1)

Brad Bakshi was by no means a warm person. At least, not that you had thought until now.

pairing: brad bakshi x coworker reader [second person, no y/n]

warnings: a couple of cliches, fear of dark and thunderstorms, power outage, profanity, developing feelings. mostly fluff/comfort. brad is a little bit of an asshole, as expected (and now you’re caught up!), but not the whole time. one mention of c.w.

(unfinished) word count: 2.3k

a/n: based off of this request here! heyyyy 🌱🫖 anon, I really appreciated the request! hope you don’t mind I focused it more so on season one/two brad. sorry this took so long to post and I didn’t even get to finish it, I got caught up in the struggles of daily life smh 😔 but thank you so much for your patience, I might finish it if I get the motivation but at the moment I’m not sure… also yes I’m into f1 now!! I might write for some of the drivers if people really want that but I’m not sure since I’ve been very busy. let me know if you’d be interested in that!

Your keys clinked together as you locked the front door of your apartment. After that was done, you slipped them into your bag and began the ten-minute walk to work. The sounds of Los Angeles were blocked out by the headphones you wore, listening to music and podcasts as you crossed streets and walked along the pavement. People, although no more than faces and outfits, passed you every day on the same route you went to get to Mythic Quest headquarters. It felt like just another day.

“Fuuuuuuuck.” You groaned, slouching down and letting your head hit the desk with a thud. The rain was absolutely pouring outside, you could hear it.

Being on the writing team wasn’t as glamorous as you had hoped it would be. C.W., as much as you initially admired his works, was an incredibly lousy head writer. That was normal, but especially today, he or one of the other slightly psychotic department heads were extra adamant on making sure you couldn’t get any work done. Thus you’d needed to stay a little later than normal.

It was only an extra half hour to revise a rough draft and a couple storyboarding charts, you’d told yourself. That was before the rain started twenty minutes into those extra thirty minutes. If you had left on time, you would have been able to get home – and with time to spare! – without needing to get rained on. Since you’d waited, though, the rain started, and forced you to stay in the building until it dissipated. When you checked your phone that morning, the forecast was only clear and sunny. That was clearly not the case now. Locked in your workplace, you decided to continue working until you either finished or the rain stopped.

Back to the present moment, you had just finished the work you needed to do, but the rain hadn’t let up. It didn’t seem like it was going to any time soon, either. If anything, it sounded like it was getting worse. You sat up, leaning back into the rolling chair you had, and pressing your hands to your closed eyes in frustration.

“What are you still doing here?” It was almost like Brad could smell the despair emanating from your being.

Not expecting his sudden presence, you nearly jumped at the mere sound of his voice.

“Jesus Christ, Brad,” You abruptly pulled your hands away from your face and gripped the armrests of the chair. “Scared the shit out of me.”

He scoffed. “I try. But what are you doing here? Work ended an hour ago.”

“I could say the same for you.”

“Yeah, you could. But I asked first. And you still haven’t answered.”

You inhaled through your teeth before pursing your lips. “Okay, fine, I wanted to just finalize some stuff the writing team and I were working on today. Poppy and Ian wouldn’t leave me alone because they were having one of their little… piss fights and were bothering everyone to see who was ‘right.’ I wasn’t gonna stay for that long, but the rain clearly had other plans.” You halfheartedly gestured to the windows in the main room that showed the overcast sky and harsh rain happening outside.

Brad didn’t even bother looking behind him. “And, what? You don’t have a ride or something?”

You furrowed your brows at his response. “Dude. I literally walk to work every day. It’s easier because it’s not that far and I get to avoid the issues of traffic and having to park in the parking structure, you know? And the gas prices, have you seen that bullsh-”

“Yeah, yeah I get it, whatever. Just shut it. I didn’t come here to listen to you complain.” He waved a hand around aimlessly as he began to roll his eyes.

Neither of you said anything further for a moment, you just sat there watching as he studied the ground. If you hadn’t been looking at him, you wouldn’t have noticed the very subtle twitch of his eye and the little exasperated sigh he let out as he seemed to be weighing his options. He opened his mouth, but paused. Then he went on to speak.

“You don’t even have like a flimsy little umbrella or something? A raincoat? Nothing?” He hung his head slightly lower, talking with an air of disbelief.

“Does it look like it, Bakshi?” You held your hands up and swiveled around in the chair a little, glancing quickly around the room with furrowed brows. “If I had either of those I would have left already.”

“I don’t know what goes through your mind,” He scoffed again. “I’m not a lowly writer. I’m the HOMIE.”

You didn’t really have any words. You wanted to so desperately insult him but you knew he would easily be able to destroy you with less effort. Instead you opted for just biting your tongue.

“Whatever. I’ll probably just wait it out. Even if it means I have to sleep in my office.” You moved your chair closer to the desk and laid your forehead down, quietly groaning in defeat.

Although you couldn’t see him, you could tell Brad was fidgeting slightly from where he stood in the doorway. The rain pattered onto the pavement outside, but you could hear the slight rustle of whatever sweater he was wearing, the tapping of his shoe on the carpeted floor, the liquid he swirled around in his mug. Eventually he spoke.

“Did you…” He trailed off, clearly reluctant. “Did you need a ride?”

Your brows furrowed, again, against the cold desk. “Really?” You were in disbelief as you sat up in your chair. “The infamous Brad Bakshi, greedy, heartless bastard of MQ, offering to give a ‘lowly writer’ a ride? Is this real? Am I on a prank show? Where are the cameras?” You gave him an exaggerated gasp as you quickly whipped your head around the room and spun around in your chair.

“Do you want that car ride or not?” His blank expression said it all. Brad was not amused.

“Fine, fine, just let me get my stuff real quick.”

Brad walked briskly, not waiting for you to catch up as he practically sprinted through the staff parking structure. “Pick up the pace, writer.”

You grumbled little insults under your breath so he wouldn’t hear, and began walking faster to keep up. “Fine, ‘homie.’”

The two of you eventually got to his car. It was nothing too extravagant. Fairly generic, but sleek enough for his taste.

[I’m so sorry I don’t know or remember what car Brad drives/would drive – if anyone has an answer for this please hmu LMAO. I feel like it would be either silver, blue, or black (some of the most generic car colors but with somewhat deeper connection to him as a person/character).]

The inside smells faintly like an air freshener but more like something more comfortable and just there. Somewhat like dust, but not unpleasantly so. You get into the passenger seat as Brad gets into the driver’s. He hands you his phone, already open to a navigation app for you to put your address into. You begin doing so, but a weather advisory appears. At the same time, you can feel your own phone vibrate inside your bag, presumably giving you the same notice. “Harsh rain and possible storms in the general LA area. Staying home is recommended.” it read. Brad leans over a little, just to see the notification.

“Hm. Would have been nice to know before I left for work this morning.” You scoffed, a little weary but continuing to type your address before you gave him his phone back.

He took it and began the route, the two of you leaving the parking structure in silence. It was a little uncomfortable, you had to admit, but not for long.

“If you want music you can put something on. Just connect your phone with bluetooth.” Brad said softly.

It was unexpectedly quiet and gentle, a stark contrast to his normal brash demeanor.

“Oh, okay.”

You pressed some things on the dashboard, before connecting your phone and playing some of your favorite music. It didn’t seem like Brad had much of an opinion on it. Rain continued to patter on the windshield as the car was stagnant.

“Thanks, by the way.” You kind of blurted out, but it was genuine. “I forgot to say it earlier, but it means a lot.”

His response was brief. “It’s whatever.”

The temporary silence returned. Another buzz sounded from your phones. Rather than taking yours out, you just leaned over to look at Brad’s phone. Another notice, but this time a warning. “Expected storms within next twelve hours. Power outages in some areas of LA and southern California. It is advised to stay off the roads during this time frame.”

“Shit.” You murmured, clearly more worried now. “My apartment’s still another ten minutes away because of the traffic…”

“Yep.” Brad was still stoic.

“Hey, by the way, where do you live? Are you far away from here? ‘Cause I don’t want you to have to drive to my apartment and then all the way back if it’s like the opposite direction.”

“It’s like five minutes away from MQ.”

You were silent for a moment, out of disbelief. “What?”

“Yeah. I live five minutes away.”

“And you don’t just walk?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“‘Cause.”

“God, Brad, you’re such a-”

“An environmentally apathetic asshole? Self-centered douchebag? Lazy bum? I’ve heard it all and I really couldn't care less.”

“Okay, but seriously, I don’t want you to, like, hydroplane and-or get into an accident on the way back to your place. You might as well just drop me off here and turn back now.”

Brad turned to you, an eyebrow raised and head cocked slightly to the side. “As ‘on-brand’ that would be for me, that’s an actual asshole move, and I don’t want your death to be on my hands if you get swept up and away by some random gust of wind.”

“Oh, wow, so he does have a heart.” You quipped.

Brad rolled his eyes again, looking out at the cars in front of you. “As much as I hate to admit it, yes, I do. All humans do, because it pumps blood throughout their fucking bodies. I thought you were smarter than this, writer.”

“You know what I mean. I’m not that much of a dumbass.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Oh, my god, just… shut up. Also are you not in any way worried about our current situation? We’re bound to get into an accident at this rate, we need to get to our places as soon as we possibly can.”

“Okay, well, the traffic to get to your apartment is still not clearing up, so if you’re so worried, I’ll drop you back off at MQ and then I’ll head to my house.”

You shook your head at the notion, groaning. “No, no, no, no, I can’t stay at MQ overnight…”

Brad turned back to look at you. A strange hint of a smile graced his lips as he scoffed.

“What happened to ‘I’ll wait the rain out even if it means I have to sleep at my desk?’”

You felt the heat of embarrassment rise up your neck and to your cheeks, turning away from him and facing the window to avoid eye contact. “I don’t know, I didn’t think I’d actually have to do it. Especially after you offered me a ride! And now we’re in the car, it seemed pretty unlikely that it would still be happening.”

For the first time in you ever knowing him (your two years at MQ), Brad Bakshi laughed. It wasn’t one of his sarcastic chuckles, nor a strained noise, but a genuine laugh. You had a puzzled look on your face, and whipped your head around to see him. His eyes were shut, he was slightly hunched over, and his smile was clear as day. He continued to laugh–presumably at you–but for once, you didn’t mind. The sight was a joy to see. Sure, Brad was an asshole, but he had his moments. A smile of your own crept its way onto your face as you watched him laugh for a few seconds longer. As his laughter wound down, a sudden crack of lightning flashed across the sky, a rumble of thunder following immediately after, startling the both of you.

“Shit!” You hissed, jumping in your seat. “Okay, okay, we really need to get to safety, like… now. This shit is actually dangerous, Brad. I don’t want you getting injured or worse because of my lack of preparation. If you really need to drop me off at the office on your way to your place, that’s… fine.”

Although unhappy that the start of your weekend would be ruined by having to sleep over in your office building, you figured it would be better than causing Brad to get stuck in the storm. You awaited his response, once again watching him as he thought for a moment.

Suddenly, he let out a quiet groan, tilting his head down, leaning his forehead lightly against the wheel. “I can’t believe I’m about to offer this to you, of all people, but if you’re so god damn worried about my safety… I have a guest room at my house.”

His sudden generosity confuses and delights you. It’s strange, that’s for sure, but it’s a welcome surprise.

“Really?”

“Why else would I have said it?” It was a question but it came out as more of a statement.

“I don’t know, it’s just… weird. Not to say that I don’t accept, but it’s oddly kind of you. Not something commonly associated with the image of Brad Bakshi.”

He shrugged. “I know. So do you accept or not?”

“I do, thank you so much.” You spoke quickly, hoping he wouldn’t rescind the offer. “I’m sorry to cause you so much inconvenience.”

“I’m sorry too. I’m sorry you’re so dumb that you didn’t prepare a way back home.”

“Oh, my god.”

#tea writes #🌱🫖 anon #brad bakshi x reader #brad bakshi #mythic quest #mq #apple tv #danny pudi #abed nadir #abed nadir x reader #sorry those last two are kind of clickbait but I need reach #x reader #mythic quest fanfiction #mythic quest x reader #mq x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #mythic quest fanfic

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buckychristwrites · 11 months

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About You | Day 1 | j.t.

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x F!Reader

Summary: Your job? Pop culture journalist for The Independent. Your assignment? To write a profile on the cocky footballer that you're publicly feuding with.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Cussing. Enemies to lovers

A/N: I know I just posted the Prologue but here's the first chapter! All of this plus chapter two are posted on my Ao3 :) enjoy!

Masterlist | About You Masterlist | Main Blog

The Nelson Road Stadium was bigger than you had imagined it, though you had never seen it in person before. Walking through the door, you timidly showed security your press pass before asking where you would be able to find either Keely Jones or anyone in charge. The security guard was less than helpful, just pointing haphazardly to the left. Instead of pressing further, you just decided to walk. Eventually, you’d have to run into someone who knew something, right?

Your eyes jumped from wall to wall, taking in the pictures and memorabilia that filled them. Pulling out your phone from your pocket, you opened your camera and snapped a picture. Either for the article or just for bragging rights, it could be useful in the future.

“Hiya,” An uneasy voice said from behind you. Startled, you whirled around to find a vaguely familiar face staring at you, a tiny woman with light hair, big eyes and eyebrows knitted together. “Are you waiting for someone?” It took a second for you to process what she was asking you. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to bring your heart rate down, you shook your head.

“I’m looking for Keeley Jones, or anyone who could be in charge here, really,” You explained before introducing yourself. “I’m from The Independent, and I’m doing the piece on Tartt.” Saying his name and the whole sentence out loud felt like a betrayal to yourself, but you tried to hide your distaste from your demeanor. The woman’s face lit up.

“Perfect timing then,” She said brightly. “I’m Keeley Jones.” Relief filled you. The idea of navigating this place on your own had been very stressful.

“Thank goodness,” You huffed. A part of you had been worried that everyone would be as lackadaisical as the security guard before.

“Thank you so much for doing this,” She said as she began to lead you down the hallway. “I think it’s going to be a wonderful opportunity for Richmond, and for Jamie.” Your face contorted slightly at the sound of his name, and you were thankful you were walking behind her so she couldn’t see it. When you didn’t respond, she glanced back at you. “I really think that once you get to know him, you’ll change your mind.”

Ahhh, so she had read your work.

“My articles about him were never meant to be personal,” You said while trying not to sound defensive. Wanting to elaborate further, you searched your brain for any semblance of an explanation, but turned up empty. She nodded in a surprisingly understanding way.

“You weren’t wrong by any stretch,” She admitted, giving you an earnest look. “He’s a piece of work. But he has changed, I promise you.”

You said nothing. What was there to say? Every person in this club all views Tartt as family. Of course they would be quick to defend him, especially against someone who was very publicly critical of him.

Not that he needed the defense, of course. Whenever an article of yours about him hit the socials, he was quick to respond on Twitter, and it always led to a very public spat between the two of you. Another reason on the list as to why the public loved the feud you had with a man who you had never met in person.

Keeley led you up a set of stairs and outside a closed door. She gave you a quick smile before tapping her knuckles against it.

“Just wanna let Rebecca know you’re here before letting you meet the team,” She whispered as a voice called from the other side, Come in!

The door swung open and the two of you entered. Your presence was swiftly forgotten as the two of them squealed and embraced. Crossing your arms over your chest, you glanced around the office and pretended to not be eavesdropping on their mini conversation.

“What are you doing here?” Rebecca asked excitedly.

“I set up a profile on Jamie for The Independent! I wanted to be here when the journalist showed up,” She explained, before turning back to you. When Rebecca did the same, she seemed to be studying you. She was taller than you had imagined her to be, wearing a pencil skirt and a sleeveless top. You felt nervous just being in her presence.

As Keeley introduced the two of you, the platinum blonde’s face seemed to firm at the sound of your name, making you nauseated. The warmth returned to her face just as quickly as it went.

“Pleasure to have you,” She said as she held out a hand. Whether her tone was sincere or not, it was hard to say. Swallowing the anxiety, you took it.

“How long are you coming ‘round for?” Keeley asked. You looked up at the ceiling in thought.

“A week or two, depending.”

“Depending on… what exactly?” Rebecca asked, her grin faltering ever so slightly. The question itself made you want to turn around and run home. You had met a lot of powerful people in your career, but there was something about the way Rebecca held herself that made you more intimidated than you had ever felt before.

“Just depending on how things are going and if I feel like I need more time,” You explained quickly. “I will be at the next two matches.” Keeley broke out into a wide smile.

“That’ll be fun! You can sit in the box with us!” Keeley exclaimed. She tried to be subtle, but you didn’t miss the squeeze Rebecca gave Keeley’s arm at this comment, all while keeping a cool, collected face. You could almost feel the spike in your blood pressure.

“Shall I meet the team?” You asked, averting Rebecca’s eyes while desperately trying to appear as if you didn’t want to cry.

“Yes! Of course!” Keeley exclaimed. She quickly turned and gave Rebecca a kiss on the cheek before heading towards the door, a slight bounce in her step. “I’ll be back for lunch, Becs!”

“Do let me know if you need anything!” Rebecca called to your receding back. In lieu of a proper response, you gave her a quick smile before closing the door behind you.

The tension in your body seemed to go away, but you knew it was only temporary.

Keeley gave you the grand tour of the building. Every bathroom, office, or cleaner’s closet, she knew where it was and she made sure to show you. It hadn’t occurred to you just how big the stadium was on the inside, and it made you all the more grateful for her guidance.

The changing room was empty when she opened the door and let you venture in. Something about that was relieving to you. You walked along the benches, reading every name over each locker. When you got to Tartt’s name and number, you felt your heart drop into your abdomen. Something about reading his name on the wall and seeing the contents of his locker made this whole thing become suddenly real. And while you stood behind every word you’ve ever written about him, you felt incredibly anxious over how the next week (or two) would go.

“Where is everyone?” You asked Keeley while trying to pull my eyes away from the placard.

“Training,” She answered. “We’ll go out in a second.” You nodded, turning to find her beaming at you. Raising a hand, she pointed at one of the doors. “That’s the coach’s office.” You glanced at the closed door, seeing the desks through the window. “And that is the boot room.” You turned your head once more to find her other hand pointed at the room across the way. She took a step towards you, lowering her voice. “Careful going in there. It’s used for more than just dirty boots and washing the kits.”

You raised an eyebrow at her.

“It’s a sanctuary, so to speak,” She elaborated. “Serious conversations. Therapy sessions. Maybe even a shag, who knows?” Your shock must’ve crossed your face, because she instantly laughed. “I would never, but you can’t be sure.” Her eyes narrowed slightly in thought. “Also Will the kit boy is always in here. It's practically his office.. Seems to hear everything, that one. So be careful of that as well.” Before you had any chance to give a response, she turned and began to move, prompting you to follow.

She led you to the tunnel, and you could feel the anxiety pouring out of you. As you made your way into the sunlight, you squinted as everything slowly came into focus.

If you thought the stadium itself was bigger in person, you weren’t prepared for the field itself. The green was so brilliant when it wasn’t on the other side of a television screen. The seats appeared as if they had just gotten a fresh coat of paint. As Keeley led you towards the coaches, you couldn’t stop yourself from looking around. In the distance, you could see the players running around the field as they practiced plays for the next game. When your eyes caught a flash of the number 9, you turned your gaze to Keeley’s shoes in front of you, wanting to crawl out of your skin.

“G’ morning, gentlemen!” She called as the two of you approached the coaches. A chorus of greetings rang out as Keeley approached the tallest man with black hair and mean eyebrows, who you could only assume was the famous Roy Kent, and gave him a sweet kiss. As soon as she pulled away, his eyes fell on you.

“Who’s this?”

She introduced you, and not unlike Rebecca, the second your name left her mouth, the three of them visibly tensed. It went as quickly as it came, although the tension within yourself was only starting to build. If Keeley had noticed the change in the air, she didn’t voice it.

“This is Roy Kent, Nate Shelley, and Coach Beard,” Keeley introduced. You went around to each of them to shake their hands while she continued on. “She’s here to do the piece on Jamie.” You were already taking a step away from them when all their eyes widened.

“They- they’re having you do the profile?” Nate asked in a soft, unsure voice. Holding back a sigh, you nodded.

“Is this a fuckin’ joke?” Roy Kent asked, his eyes still on Keeley. Her face fell slightly at his reaction, and it was then that it occurred to you that these reactions were just as hurtful to her, who set the profile, as it was to you.

“Don’t be rude, babe,” She said, shaking her head. “This will be good for both of them.” Coach Beard cleared his throat.

“Only if she-” He nodded his head at you. “-can remain unbiased.” All four sets of eyes fell on you, and you could feel the blood rising in your cheeks.

“I’m always unbiased,” You said, unable to hide the defensiveness this time. Beard scoffed.

“Okay.”

Just barely shaking your head, you wanted to walk out right then and there. This whole thing already felt like you were walking around with your tail between your legs, but coming for your journalistic integrity was something you weren’t going to take lightly.

“I’m going to write the truth,” You said simply. “And the truth will be whatever Jamie gives me.”

Despite what the reader’s would want, you thought to yourself, which would be the continuation of the war between the two of you.

As if on cue, Roy Kent turned towards the players in the field.

“WHISTLE!”

The yell made you jump, but everyone else seemed to be accustomed to it, the players immediately pausing the play and running over. A few confused looks were thrown in your direction, but you took the time to take your notepad out of your pocket to take some notes as the coaches addressed the team.

Roy Kent yells “whistle” instead of using one. Beautiful weather for practice. Team really responds well to-

“‘Scuse me, Coach?” A familiar Mancunian accent called out. Your pencil froze instantly, but not before a line went across the paper in surprise.

“Yeah, Jamie,” Coach Beard said patiently. Out of your peripheral vision, you saw him point a finger at you.

“Who’s that?”

All eyes fell on you. Despite the warm, late spring heat, your blood ran cold. Keeley, who was now tucked into Roy’s side, cleared her throat before announcing your name. Your eyes fell on every players’ face, watching as their expressions changed from confusion to downright disdain. A few heads turned in the direction of Jamie, who’s jaw had tensed.

“She’s here to do a piece on Jamie,” Keeley continued, and you had to give her credit for being completely unfazed by the change in mood. “She’ll be here for a week or two, and will be at both of the next matches.”

Unsure of what else to do, you raised a hand in greeting, trying to muster up a smile. Surprisingly, there were a few muttered greetings, although the overall impression you had was not pleasant.

“Is this a fuckin’ joke?”

All eyes turned to Jamie, who had been quiet until this point. He wasn’t looking at you, just staring in disbelief at Keeley and the coaches. Roy raised and dropped his shoulders in response, having said the exact same thing just moments before. Keeley’s head fell slightly to the side.

“Come on, Jamie,” She said, pleadingly. “This’ll be good for you! It’s a chance to show everyone how much you’ve changed!”

He wasn’t hearing her, however, as he shook his head before storming off back towards the changing room. When he disappeared down the tunnel, all eyes fell on you once more. Keeley broke from Roy to follow Jamie, but you stopped her.

“I should probably handle this,” You said to her quietly. She looked unsure, but still nodded. Taking a deep breath, you turned and made your way back towards the changing room. The coaches didn’t miss a beat as Roy Kent’s voice could be heard echoing throughout the field.

“Get moving! Fifty laps, let’s go!”

Just before you passed the threshold of the tunnel, all of the team made their way past you, and not a single one went by without giving you either an intense glare or curious stare.

As you made your way into the changing room, you were greeted by something hitting against the wall loudly. Across the room from you was Jamie, and across from him was the laundry bin, which was now tipped onto its side and well away from the spot you had seen it in before. He was wearing a black sports shirt with dark blue sleeves and the word Bantr sported across his torso. His black Nike shorts went above mid thigh, and hugged his muscular thighs just perfectly. When he looked up to find you, he immediately turned away.

“I don’t want to fuckin’ talk to ya, just piss off,” He said, voice laced with venom. Despite his tone, you took a few steps forward.

“I didn’t want to do this either, you know,” You told him. “It’s all for publicity. You have to understand that.” He laughed.

“Wasn’t publicity when you wrote that bullshit about me,” He threw back. “‘If Jamie Tartt behaved in public the way he played on the field, a lot of journalists would be out of a job, including meself.’” There was something surreal about your words being used against you in this moment, but he kept going. “‘This stint on Love Conquers All just proves that some of us should stick to what we know, although for Jamie Tartt, that narrows down to football and being a twat, so maybe he was just trying to explore his options.’” Despite his anger, you had to bite the inside of your cheek.

“So you’re a fan.”

“Hilarious.”

“You have my work memorized,” You pointed out in a vain attempt to break the strain. “Sounds like fan behavior to me.” He shook his head, not amused.

“A proper comedian, you are.” You let out an exasperated sigh.

“I won’t apologize for what I wrote,” You said bluntly. “Just like I don’t expect you to apologize for anything. But I have to be here. And I’m not here to make you look bad. I’m just here to write what I see.”

Though his jaw was still tense, he seemed to consider this as he stared at the ground.

“Is that what you’ve always done?” He asked, his head still turned towards the floor with his eyes jumping towards you. “Wrote what you saw?” You nodded slowly. His gaze dropped to the floor again, his hand running through his long hair, which was falling on either side of his forehead. “So all you saw me as was a fuckin’ twat?”

The easy answer was yes, but it didn’t feel so easy when you were being asked the question now.

“It’s easy to see things in a person when you don't really know them,” You admitted quietly. “That’s probably why a lot of journalists aren’t very popular.” He nodded, seeming to agree with you. “But maybe you could take this as a chance to prove me wrong.” Suddenly, he raised his head so he was staring straight ahead, still not at you. “Everyone who I’ve met since getting here has shown in one way or another that they don’t approve of what I said. You’ve shown many people that there’s more to you than a cocky arsehole.” Confidently, you took a step forward, and you were pleased when he didn’t react to it.

“So show me too.” This is what made him finally turn his head towards you. You nodded at him. “And I’ll show everyone else.”

A nod from Jamie was all you got before he turned on his heel and walked back out to the pitch. Something in you felt relieved over this chat. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as hard as you thought it would.

For the rest of practice, you sat in the stands, taking notes, watching and listening. For the most part, it seemed that your presence had been forgotten, although there was the occasional glance from one of the players or coaches. Keeley had long gone back to work, leaving you in the trenches.

Afternoon quickly fell into evening. When the players were released to go to the showers, you rose and began to collect your things. A slight whistle came from behind you, and when you turned, you were unexpectedly greeted by Coach Beard. Slowly rising to stand straight, you waited. He seemed to be struggling to find the words to say.

“I don’t have kids,” He started, causing your eyebrows to knit together. “But these players are my sons.” Your face relaxed again, understanding hitting you. He gestured towards the players who were still filling into the tunnel. “Those are my boys. When you come for one of my boys, you come for all of us.” You opened your mouth to speak, but he raised his hand to stop you. “I won’t fault you for what is in the past. I understand you have a job to do, and no one will stop you from doing it. But he’s not the same.” As he said it, he turned in time to see the number 9 disappear into the tunnel. “He’s not the guy you wrote about before.” He turned back to you, a tender smile on his face. “Give him a chance.”

You weren’t sure if a response beyond a nod was needed, so that was all you gave. He nodded back, as if some unspoken agreement had been come to, and followed after the men. You threw your bag over your shoulder and made your way out.

When you got to your car, the car park had largely emptied out. As you threw your bag into your passenger side door, you noticed the car a few spaces away from you was occupied. Jamie Tartt continued to sit in his idling vehicle, staring at the wheel. When you climbed into the driver’s side, you looked over to find that he was already returning your gaze.

You hesitantly lifted your hand and gave him a wave. He waved back with an over-enthused smile, before raising the middle finger at you and quickly pulling out of the spot, tires screeching behind him.

Your hand dropped back to your lap in defeat.

This was going to be the longest week of your life.

And there was no way you were staying for two.

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #ted lasso fanfiction

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