Why am I always at the FRONT?!

because you're small man 😊 I write for literally any sport you want plus spn, marvel and I need some Top Gun requests STAT

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The Masterlists [2025]

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Rules & Guidelines for Requesting

Promptlists (Footballer) (Motorsport) (NFL)

The Footballer Masterlist

Motorsport Masterlist

NFL Masterlist

25 Days Of Christmas '23 Masterlist

25 Days Of Christmas '24 Masterlist

The Rom-Com Materlist ♡

The College/Work au Masterlist ◇

Swift Series

Divine Intervention (Moonknight)

[the-offside-rule]

Oscar Piastri (McLaren) - Soft Launch

Requested: yes

Prompt: Piastri x Norris!reader where their relationship is secret

Warnings: none

The low hum of the paddock was finally quieting down when Y/n slipped into Oscar’s driver room. The air still smelled faintly of heat and fuel, and she could hear the distant celebration from the McLaren hospitality area — Lando’s laughter carrying faintly through the wall. Y/n sat on the small couch, knees pulled to her chest, waiting. She knew exactly what kind of mood Oscar would be in. He’d driven brilliantly tonight, but once again, the team had made their priorities clear, favouring her brother when it mattered most.

She didn’t blame Lando, of course. But she knew how much it ate at Oscar to be treated like a second driver.

The door finally swung open.

Oscar stood there, still in his race suit, jaw tight and eyes dark. But as soon as he saw her sitting there, his shoulders eased just a little. His gaze softened, though his voice was low and tired when he spoke. "I’m sorry, Y/n… but you need to go." She blinked, confusion furrowing her brow. "What do you mean I need to go?"

Oscar didn’t answer right away. He began peeling off his overalls, tying then around his waist. "You should go celebrate with your brother. The team’s out… they’re celebrating the Constructors’ Championship." Her heart sank. "Why aren’t you there?" He let out a humourless laugh. "Wasn’t invited, it would seem."

"Oh Oscar. I'm sorry." She whispered, the guilt in her chest tightening. "Don’t be sorry." He said quickly, glancing at her with that small, exhausted smile of his. "You didn’t do anything wrong."

"I know." She said softly. "But I am sorry anyway." He sighed and finally sat down next to her, his body slumping against the couch. For a moment, he just stared at the floor before leaning his head against her shoulder. She instinctively rested her cheek against the top of his head, her fingers brushing the side of his neck gently. "I just want the season to be over." He murmured, eyes closed. "So I can stay at home for a bit." She smiled faintly, tracing her thumb along the seam of his suit. "I’d still like for you to bring home the silverware, though."

That earned her a small grin. "Regardless of who wins right now-" He said, tilting his head up to meet her gaze. "You’re going to be seeing it anyway." She giggled. "I know, I’m just trying to be comforting." Oscar’s grin softened into something warmer. "In all honesty, if I win it or not… I just want a week after the championship where we can lie in bed and do absolutely nothing for once." Y/n let out a soft laugh. "I like that idea."

"Good." He said, voice low and sincere. Then, after a pause, he broke the silence. "We’ll have to tell Lando about us at some stage, you know." Her smile faltered slightly, and she sighed. "We’ve been keeping it from him for two years, Oscar. He still thinks we’re just really good friends from karting. Why change that now?"

"Because I love you." He said simply, his hand finding hers. "And I don’t want to creep around it anymore." Her chest tightened. Not with nerves this time, but with something softer, steadier. She looked at him for a long moment before she whispered. "Then we can do it today if you want." He nodded slowly. "We’ll start dropping hints when we go celebrate." A grin tugged at her lips. "A soft launch, huh?" He chuckled quietly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah. A soft launch."

[the-offside-rule]

Mason Mount (Manchester United) - What Was I Made For?

Requested: yes

Prompt: Y/n is struggling with exams and is questioning everything but Maosn is there to help her

Warnings: crying

Mason was lounging on the sofa, controller in hand, eyes glued to his PS5 game. The match on screen had his full attention until his phone lit up beside him, buzzing against the cushion. Without looking away, he reached for it, thumb swiping across the screen to answer. "Hello, darling-" He started, but the sound of her sniffles on the other end cut him short. His whole body tensed, the game forgotten instantly. "Where are you?" He asked, already pushing himself off the couch. "In the office." She murmured, voice small and shaky.

Mason didn’t waste another second. He jogged up the stairs two at a time and pushed open the door to the study room. There she was, hunched over the desk, papers scattered everywhere, her laptop screen glowing with endless notes. Her hands covered her face, shoulders trembling. "Oh, darling." Mason’s voice softened as he crossed the room. He crouched down beside her, gently pulling her hands away so he could see her tear-streaked cheeks. "What’s going on?" She shook her head, frustration spilling over. "I don’t know if I’m cut out for any of this, Mase. It’s just… awful. I can’t do it anymore."

His heart squeezed, seeing her so defeated. He brushed his thumb across her cheek, wiping away a tear. "Hey, don’t say that. You’re in your final year, of course it’s gonna be hard. But think about why you started, yeah? All those late nights, all the effort—you’re doing this for a reason. You’ve come this far. You can finish it."

Her lips trembled, but she managed a watery smile. "You always know what to say. Thank you." She sniffled again, softer this time. "Would you… maybe get me some tea or something?" Mason smiled, leaning in to kiss her temple. "I’ve got a better idea. Come downstairs with me. You need a break." She hesitated, glancing back at the pile of work, but Mason tugged her gently up from the chair. "Assignments will still be there in an hour. Right now, you need to breathe."

Downstairs, Mason set the kettle boiling while she sat on the counter, watching him move around the kitchen with that calm, easy smile of his. Soon enough, they were curled up on the couch, mugs of tea warming their hands. He draped a blanket around them, his arm holding her close as the opening credits of one of her favourite rom-coms filled the screen.

As the film played, her head rested on his chest, the stress of the study room fading with each sip of tea and each kiss Mason pressed against her hair. "See?" He whispered, giving her a squeeze. "World feels a little less awful when you’ve got tea and a rom-com." She let out a soft laugh, the first genuine one of the evening. "And you."

"Especially me." Mason teased, kissing her forehead again. And for the rest of the night, the only thing she thought about was how safe she felt in his arms.

[the-offside-rule]

Mo Chara (Kneecap) - Time Well Spent

Requested: yes

Prompts: 29) "Let me show you how much I've missed you."

30) "You like that?"

Warnings: smut

Liam pushed open the front door, the familiar creak of the hinges echoing in the quiet house. He’d been gone for weeks, touring with Kneecap, and the weight of exhaustion settled on his shoulders as he stepped inside. But the moment he spotted Y/n sitting at the kitchen table, her slightly waved hair cascading over her shoulders as she sipped from a mug, the fatigue melted away. She looked up, her eyes lighting up like a spark in the dimly lit room. Without hesitation, she stood, her curved frame moving with purpose, and rushed toward him.

"You’re finally home." She said, her voice laced with relief and a hint of teasing. Before he could respond, she was in his arms, her lips pressing against his in a kiss that was equal parts hungry and tender. Liam groaned softly, his hands tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer, the chain around his neck brushing against her skin. The weeks apart had only amplified the electric connection between them, and neither was willing to wait another second. "Very eager. You missed me, huh?" She joked, pulling back slightly, her breath warm against his lips.

Liam smirked, his blue eyes glinting with mischief. "Aye, let me show you how much I’ve missed you." He replied, his accent thick with his Belfast roots. He kissed her again, deeper this time, his hands roaming down her back, pulling her flush against him. She laughed softly into the kiss, her hands sliding up his chest, her touch sending a jolt of desire through him. Their lips never parted as they moved, a slow dance toward the stairs. Liam’s fingers brushed the hem of her shirt, while hers tugged at the waistband of his trousers. The air was thick with anticipation, the silence broken only by their ragged breaths and the soft sounds of their clothes shifting against each other. By the time they reached the bedroom, their kisses had become frantic, their bodies moving in unison as if they’d never been apart.

Y/n pushed him back, her strength surprising him as she guided him onto the bed. She straddled him, her thighs pressing against his hips, her eyes locking onto his with a hunger that made his heart race. Beneath her, he could feel his hardness growing, the ache of wanting her overwhelming. She smirked, her fingers tracing the outline of his jaw before sliding down to unbutton his trousers. "You’re in a rush, aren’t you?" She teased, her voice low and husky. "You’ve no idea." He muttered, his hands gripping her hips as she leaned down, her lips brushing his ear. She pulled his trousers down, her fingers skimming his thighs before wrapping around his cock. He hissed at the contact, his head falling back against the pillow as she took him into her mouth.

Her lips were warm and wet, her tongue swirling in a rhythm that had him gritting his teeth to hold back. She teased him, her mouth moving slowly, her hands gripping the base of him as she looked up, her eyes daring him to lose control. "Y/n." He groaned, his voice thick with need. "If you don’t stop, I’m-" She pulled away, her lips glistening, a smirk playing on her lips. "Not yet." She whispered, kicking off her shorts and climbing back onto him. She positioned herself above him, her hands on his chest for balance, and slowly lowered herself onto his cock. He groaned, his hands gripping her waist as she began to move, her hips rocking in deliberate, tantalizing motions.

"Fuck, Y/n." He muttered, his head tipping back as she rode him, her breasts bouncing with each movement. She leaned forward, her hair falling around her face, her lips brushing his as she whispered. "Tell me how good it feels."

"So fucking good." He gasped, his hands sliding up to cup her tits, his thumbs brushing her nipples. "You feel incredible." She moaned at his words, her movements becoming faster, her body glistening with a light sheen of sweat. But Liam wasn’t ready to let her take control for long. With a swift motion, he flipped her onto her back, his body pressing her into the mattress. "My turn." He said, his voice laced with playful dominance. He kissed her deeply, his hands roaming her body, teasing her, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin. "You like that, don’t you?" He murmured, his lips brushing her ear. "Being manhandled."

She bit her lip, her eyes flicking to his. "Maybe." She admitted, her voice breathless. "Beg for it." He challenged, his fingers dipping between her legs, teasing her already wet core. She groaned, her hands gripping his shoulders. "Liam, please. Fuck me." He smirked, his cock twitching with anticipation. "That’s what I like to hear." He said, positioning himself at her entrance before sliding inside her slowly, savouring the way she gasped at the sensation. He began to move, his thrusts deliberate at first, giving her time to adjust to his size. But as her moans grew louder, her body arching into his, he quickened his pace, hips snapping to meet her's. "Fuck, you’re so tight." He groaned, his hands gripping her thighs as he lifted one leg over his shoulder, angling himself deeper inside her. She cried out, her nails digging into his back as he hit her core with precision, her walls clenching around him.

"Liam, I’m close." She panted, her voice trembling. "Go on, then." He urged, his thrusts becoming more urgent. "Cum for me." Her body shook as she climaxed, her cries filling the room, her pussy milking him as she rode out her orgasm. Liam waited, his breath ragged, his cock throbbing inside her, before plunging into her one last time, his groan deep and primal as he filled her.

They collapsed onto the bed, their bodies slick with sweat, their hearts pounding in unison. Liam pulled her into his arms, his lips pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Missed you." He whispered, his voice thick with emotion. She smiled, her fingers tracing the chain around his neck. "Missed you too." She replied, her voice soft.

For a moment, they lay in silence, the weight of their reunion settling around them like a warm blanket. The intensity of their connection lingered, a reminder of how deeply they felt for each other, even after weeks apart. As they cuddled, their breaths slowing, Liam knew this was more than just a physical release—it was a reaffirmation of their bond, a reminder that no matter where life took them, they’d always find their way back to each other.

[the-offside-rule]

Jensen Ackles - Super Wicked

Requested: yes

Prompt: Jensen struggles to break up a minor....hiccup for their daughters

Warnings: none

It was a rare quiet afternoon at home. Y/n was out with their twin sons, and Jensen was enjoying the fleeting peace, lounging on the couch with a script in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. That peace was shattered, however, when he heard raised voices from upstairs. He set the script aside and sighed, making his way to the source of the commotion: the twins’ room.

As he approached, Jensen could make out the heated debate between their 3-year-old daughters, Lily and Grace. "I want to be Glinda!" Lily declared, her tiny fists balled up in frustration. "I need an Elphaba! You don’t even like singing!"

"I don’t care!" Grace shot back. "I’m going to be Dean Winchester! I need a Sam, not a green witch!" Jensen froze in the hallway, stifling a laugh. He pinched the bridge of his nose before stepping into the room, trying his best to keep a straight face. "Alright, what’s going on in here?" Jensen asked, leaning against the doorframe. Lily pointed a dramatic finger at her sister. "Daddy! Grace won’t be Elphaba! She has to be green!"

Grace crossed her arms defiantly. "I don’t like green! I want to be Dean, and I need a Sam! She’s being so mean!" Jensen raised his eyebrows and rubbed the back of his neck. "Okay, okay, calm down. Why don’t we flip a coin or something, and-"

"No!" They yelled in unison, startling Jensen. "I don’t want to flip a coin!" Lily huffed, tears welling in her eyes. "It’s not fair!" Grace’s lip trembled. "It’s not fair to make me be green!" Jensen was officially panicking. He crouched down to their level, looking between their frustrated faces. "Girls, let’s not cry, okay? We’ll figure something out. Just—uh—give me a second."

Before he could dig himself deeper into the chaos, the sound of the front door opening and closing downstairs was his salvation. Y/n’s familiar voice called out. "We’re back!" Jensen let out a breath of relief. "Thank God." He muttered, scooping up both girls and heading downstairs. Y/n stood in the kitchen, groceries in hand and the boys trailing behind her. Six-year-old Noah was carrying a bag of candy while his twin, Max, clutched a pumpkin under one arm. "What’s going on?" Y/n asked, noticing the stormy expressions on the girls’ faces.

Jensen set the twins down and sighed dramatically. "Your daughters are at war. Lily wants to be Glinda and needs an Elphaba, but Grace wants to be Dean and needs a Sam. And apparently, a coin toss is a crime against humanity." Y/n chuckled, shaking her head. "Of course it is." She turned to the girls. "Sweethearts, why don’t you ask your brothers if they’d like to dress up with you? Maybe they’d like to help." The twins’ eyes lit up, and they spun around to their brothers. "Noah! Max!" they cried in unison, rushing over.

"What?" Noah asked, looking up from the bag of candy. "Do you wanna be Elphaba or Sam Winchester?" Lily asked, tugging at his sleeve. Max raised an eyebrow. "Why do I have to be Elphaba?"

"Because she’s green!" Lily explained as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Grace grabbed Max’s arm. "You should be Sam! Then I can be Dean!" Jensen gave Y/n a helpless look, but she simply smiled, clearly enjoying his plight. After a brief huddle between the boys, Noah shrugged. "I’ll be Sam. That’s easy." Max grinned mischievously. "Fine, I’ll be Elphaba. But I’m gonna be a boy Elphaba." Lily squealed with delight and hugged her brother tightly. "Thank you, Max! You’re the best!"

Grace high-fived Noah. "Yes! Now we’re Dean and Sam!" Jensen exhaled, relieved. "Crisis averted." Y/n wrapped an arm around his waist and kissed his cheek. "See? You survived."

"Barely." Jensen muttered, earning a laugh from his wife.

As the kids ran off to start planning their costumes, Y/n leaned into Jensen with a grin. "You know, we might just have the most dramatic family ever." Jensen laughed, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "Gee, I wonder where they get it from."

"It couldn't be from their parents being actors." Y/n chuckled. "Oh no. Not at all."

[the-offside-rule]

Brock Purdy (San Francisco 49ers) - Pumpkin Patch

Requested: yes

Prompt: this ask

Warnings: no

The air was crisp, carrying the scent of hay bales and apple cider as families wandered through the rows of pumpkins. You tugged your cardigan tighter around yourself, your eyes automatically scanning for the biggest, roundest pumpkins. But Brock wasn’t looking at pumpkins. No—he was focused on the little girl tucked against his chest, babbling happily as she fiddled with the collar of his flannel shirt. "Emmie’s stealing all my buttons again." He said with a laugh, adjusting his grip.

Y/n smiled at the sight of their daughter, Emilia (or Emmie for short) Purdy, snuggled up in her own tiny flannel outfit, complete with little leggings and brown boots you had squealed over when you found them in the baby section. "She’s not stealing them, Brock. She’s exploring." Y/n teased, brushing a strand of hair from your face as you pointed toward a medium-sized pumpkin nearby. "What about that one?" Brock tilted his head, pretending to consider it, though his eyes were still fixed on Emmie. "Hmm. Not bad. But I think she wants to help pick." He said as she waved her hands around. "She’s nine months old. She doesn’t get a vote."

CSure she does." Brock countered, bouncing her slightly and making her giggle. "She told me she likes the big ones." Y/n rolled herr eyes fondly as they moved down the row. Brock suddenly stopped short, his face lighting up. "Oh, babe—look at this one." Y/n followed his gaze and laughed. Sitting proudly in the middle of the patch was a pumpkin that had to weigh as much as Brock himself. "That thing is ridiculous." She said. "Exactly. Perfect for a photo." He looked down at Emmie, who was chewing on her fist. "You wanna sit on the giant pumpkin, Emmie girl?" She squealed, which Brock immediately took as confirmation.

Carefully, he carried her over, holding her steady as he placed her tiny body onto the massive pumpkin. You pulled out your phone, already grinning. "Okay, hold her there, I don’t trust her balance."

"I got her." Brock said, crouching with his hands on either side of her. But as soon as Y/n lifted the phone, he shifted. "Wait—hang on. I want it to look like she’s sitting by herself." Y/n raised an eyebrow. "Brock..."

"I’ll let go for two seconds. I’ll be right here." With exaggerated seriousness, he slid his hands away, hovering close enough to snatch her back if she wobbled. Y/n quickly snapped three pictures in a row, and the second you lowered the phone, Brock swooped back in, scooping Emmie into his arms. "There. Safe and sound." He said triumphantly, kissing the top of her head. "She’s going to think you’re a superhero." Y/n said with a smile, scrolling through the photos. "She already does." He replied, leaning over your shoulder to peek. His face softened when he saw Emmie’s gummy grin atop the pumpkin. "Oh, these are so good. Frame-worthy."

Y/n laughed. "One of these is definitely going on the Christmas card." Brock adjusted Emmie so she was tucked against him again, her tiny fingers curling into his shirt. "Hear that, Emmie? You’re the star." He cooed, kissing her cheek as the 9 month old babbled. "She’s always the star." Y/n said as the three of then began walking again, leaves crunching under their boots. "Nuh, uh " Brock murmured, glancing at you with a grin. "Her mama’s the star too." Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the blush creeping up her cheeks. "Real cheesy."

"Probably." He admitted, pressing a kiss to Emmie’s forehead. "But still true."

[the-offside-rule]

Bryson De Chambeau - Leisurely Getaway

Requested: yes

Prompt: Y/n wants a getaway with no golf but Bryson has other plans

Warnings: none

The hum of the rental car filled the quiet stretch of the drive, the trees rising tall and elegant as the avenue wound its way toward the hotel. Y/n sat curled in the passenger seat, one knee tucked up, her textbook balanced on her lap. She wasn’t reading, though. Her eyes kept darting out the window, widening at the perfectly manicured hedges and the flash of spring flowers painting the landscape. "This place looks insane." She said finally, shutting her book and turning to Bryson. "Where even is it again? You just said to worry about packing a bag and that you'd take care of the rest." Bryson grinned at the road ahead, one hand lazily on the wheel, the other drumming on the console. "That was the point. No stressing, no planning. Just a week away. You’ll see."

"You’re ridiculously cryptic, you know that? You could’ve at least told me the name." He shot her a sidelong glance, lips tugging up. "If I told you the name, you’d have Googled it, memorized the layout, scoped every menu, and probably asked for the spa brochure before we even checked in." Y/n swatted his arm lightly. "Okay, maybe. But exams don’t exactly leave room for surprises, you know. I like to be prepared."

"Which is why-" He countered smoothly. "I handled this. All you have to prepare for is acing those finals. I’ve got the rest." She sighed. "I'm just happy I have you all to myself. No golf, just me and you in a spa resort." When Bryson pitched the idea of a spa getaway, Y/n had one requirement; no golf course. She knew he would eventually sneak off to the golf course and this was meant to be their getaway from both of their respective worlds; her from her studies and him from his golf.

Her mouth twitched like she wanted to ramble on, but the landscape distracted her again. Rolling hills stretched out in green and gold, sunlight catching the little flags staked into the earth in the distance. Her brows furrowed. "Wait, are those…golf flags?" Bryson followed her gaze and then blinked, almost theatrically. "Huh. Didn’t notice." Y/n snorted, unimpressed. "Yeah, right. You didn’t notice an entire course popping up like daisies?" He lifted his shoulders in a shrug, eyes a little too innocent. "Could just be decorative. You know, for the aesthetic."

"The aesthetic." She repeated flatly. "Bryson, you booked a hotel on a golf course, didn’t you?"

"Nooo." He said slowly, drawing out the vowel like he was trying to convince both of them. By the time they rolled up to the front entrance, the valet already stepping forward, Y/n’s suspicion was carved in stone. The second the car stopped, she unclipped her seatbelt and bolted out, making a sharp turn toward the trunk.

"Y/n! No- hey, wait!" Bryson scrambled out, jogging after her as she popped the trunk open with a determined click. There they were, gleaming in the sunlight: his clubs. Pristine. Packed like he’d been waiting for this moment all along. Y/n crossed her arms, glaring up at him. "Leisurely getaway, huh?" Bryson held his hands up in surrender, already trying to smile his way out of it. "Okay, hear me out. This is not training. This is not practice. This is—"

"Golf." She finished for him, unimpressed. "Leisurely golf." He corrected quickly. "Couple holes here and there, no pressure. I promise." Her foot tapped against the pavement. She wasn’t really mad, but he didn’t need to know that. "You promised me no golf. One week. No swings, no stats, no analyzing your launch angles."

"Leisurely, babe." He repeated, his voice edging toward a plea. "Not obsessing. Just enjoying it. That’s allowed, right?" She stared at him for a beat before sighing, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Fine. But-" She jabbed her finger at his chest. "You are going to the spa with me. Once a day. At least." He blinked, then smirked like that wasn’t punishment at all. "That’s your compromise?"

"My rule." His grin widened. He stuck out his hand. "Deal." She eyed him warily before sliding her palm into his, giving it one firm shake. "If you ditch me for eighteen holes, I’m changing the locks on our room." Bryson chuckled, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her forehead. "Noted. Now let’s get checked in before you decide to confiscate my clubs entirely." Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out as they finally let the valet handle the luggage. Somehow, she had the feeling this week was going to be anything but quiet.

[the-offside-rule]

Castiel (Supernatural) - Donuts and Diners

Requested: yes

Warnings: none

Y/n sat slouched in the passenger seat of the Impala, her fingers tapping a nonsensical rhythm on the dashboard. The darkness outside was only broken by the faint glow of the streetlights and the occasional flicker of headlights from passing cars. She turned to Castiel, who sat stoically in the driver’s seat, his piercing blue eyes scanning the street for any signs of supernatural activity. "This is so boring." Y/n finally groaned, throwing her head back against the seat. "Why do Sam and Dean always get the fun part?"

Castiel turned his gaze toward her, his head tilting slightly, a gesture she’d come to recognize as him trying to decipher human behavior. "You seem restless." He observed, his deep voice breaking the monotony of the night. "Yeah, no kidding " She replied, rubbing her hands together to fend off the chill creeping through the car. "If I have to sit here much longer, I might actually die of boredom." There was a moment of silence before Castiel spoke again, his tone serious. "I suggest we take a coffee break." Y/n blinked at him, surprised. “A coffee break?”

"Yes." He said simply. "It seems like a human solution to...boredom." A grin spread across her face as she sat up straighter. "Cas, I think that’s the best idea you’ve ever had."

A few minutes later, they found themselves at a cozy little diner just off the main road. The place had an old-school charm, complete with a jukebox in the corner and red vinyl booths. Y/n ordered two coffees and a small selection of donuts, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she watched Castiel curiously inspect their surroundings. When their order arrived, Y/n immediately grabbed a donut covered in chocolate glaze and took a big bite. She noticed Castiel sitting stiffly across from her, his coffee untouched, and the plate of donuts sitting ignored in front of him. "Why aren’t you eating?" She asked, her words slightly muffled by the donut in her mouth.

"I don’t require sustenance." Castiel replied, his expression neutral. Y/n rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I know you don’t need to eat, but that doesn’t mean you can’t. Come on, they’re good. Try one." He hesitated for a moment before reaching for the donut with pink icing and colorful sprinkles. Holding it delicately between his fingers, he took a tentative bite. Y/n watched as his eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise and delight crossing his face. "This is-" He began, chewing slowly. "This is one of the best things I’ve ever eaten."

Y/n laughed, watching as the normally composed angel took another, much larger bite. By the time he was finished, a few sprinkles clung to the corners of his mouth. "I think you’ve just discovered your new favorite food." She teased, sipping her coffee. Castiel glanced at the remaining donuts with newfound interest. "Perhaps I should try the others…for comparison."

Y/n couldn’t stop laughing as he reached for another donut, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. It wasn’t the thrilling action she had expected from the night, but as far as stakeouts went, this one wasn’t half bad.

[the-offside-rule]

Oscar Piastri (McLaren) - My Very Own Mark Darcy

Requested: no

Warnings: no

Y/n was sprawled across the bed, phone in hand, kicking her feet like a teenager. Her giggles filled the room as she scrolled through TikTok, where her For You Page had somehow been overtaken by Mark Darcy edits. She replayed one particularly dramatic scene, clutching her pillow to her chest as the slow-motion and piano music made her squeal with secondhand romance. The door creaked open, and Oscar leaned against the frame, raising an amused brow.

"What’s going on here, then? You look like you’re watching something illegal." He teased, eyes flicking to her kicking legs. Y/n gasped and shoved the phone under her blanket like she’d been caught red-handed. "It’s nothing!" She said quickly, but the grin on her face betrayed her. Oscar chuckled, walking over to sit at the edge of the bed. "That didn’t look like nothing. What were you watching?" With a dramatic sigh, Y/n pulled her phone back out and showed him the screen. "It’s… Mark Darcy edits. Don’t judge me."

Oscar blinked. "Who?"

"Exactly." Y/n huffed, rolling her eyes. "You need to watch the movie to understand. Come on." And just like that, she dragged him to the sofa, queued up Bridget Jones’s Diary, and curled under his arm. Oscar obliged, more amused by her enthusiasm than anything else.

Halfway through the film, Oscar tilted his head, watching Colin Firth’s stiff but quietly charming portrayal. "He’s a bit like me, isn’t he?" He said, sounding almost surprised. Y/n turned to him instantly, eyes shining as she nodded. "Exactly! That’s why I like you both. You’re both… steady. Kind. A little awkward sometimes but always saying the right thing when it matters."

Oscar’s cheeks warmed, and he tried to play it off with a scoff. "So you’re saying I’m some posh guy in a Christmas jumper?" Y/n grinned and kissed his cheek. "I’m saying you’re my Mark Darcy. And that’s better than any edit on TikTok." Oscar couldn’t help but smile, pulling her closer. "Well, I suppose there are worse things to be." Y/n giggled, pressing play again, but this time, Oscar actually leaned in and started watching properly, as though trying to live up to the title.

[the-offside-rule]

Joan García (FCBarcelona) - Fort

Requested: yes

Prompt: pillow fort building with Joan García

Warnings: super short

Y/n stretched her arms above her head, letting out a small yawn as she sat cross-legged on the living room floor. The coffee table had been pushed aside, and blankets and pillows were scattered around her, half-built into what she hoped would soon be the greatest pillow fort known to mankind. She glanced up at Joan, who was standing nearby, hands on his hips, a look of pure skepticism on his face. He was still in his training kit, and his hair was damp from a post-training shower, and there was a faint crease between his brows as he surveyed her work. "You expect me to fit in there?" He asked, nudging one of the cushions with his foot.

"Yep." Y/n said firmly. "I measured."

"With what?"

"My imagination."

Joan let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "And why are we building a pillow fort again?"

"Because it’s cute." She said, as if that were the most obvious answer in the world. "And because you always look so serious when you come back from training, and I want to see you be unserious for once." Joan exhaled, crossing his arms, but there was already a fond smile tugging at his lips. "You know I can’t say no to you."

"Iknow." Y/n grinned, holding out a hand. "Come on, you’re tall, help me with the roof." With a dramatic sigh, Joan crouched down beside her, picking up one of the blankets she had set aside. "Alright, but if this thing collapses on me in the middle of the night, I’m blaming you."

"It won’t. I’m a pro."

"Are you?" He grinned. "No, but that’s beside the point." Together, they draped blankets over the backs of the couches and tucked pillows along the edges for support. At one point, Joan got so into the construction process that he started using actual strategic planning, muttering things about reinforcement and structural integrity like they were about to submit their fort to an architecture competition.

By the time it was finished, Y/n crawled inside, eyes shining. "This is perfect." She declared, patting the spot next to her. "Get in." Joan hesitated for a moment before giving in, ducking his head to fit through the entrance. He was too broad for the space, but he made it work, lying back on the pillows with one arm stretched behind his head. His other hand instinctively found Y/n’s waist, pulling her closer until her head rested against his chest.

"Comfotable?" He murmured. "Mhm." Y/n sighed happily, snuggling into him. "You’re the best boyfriend in the world, you know that?"

"I do now." She tilted her head up, catching his gaze. "I love you, you know." Joan’s face softened, and without hesitation, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I love you too." He murmured.

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Ollie Bearman (Haas F1) - Moving Day

Requested: yes

Prompt: 5) Helping them moving in

Warnings: none

College/Work AU Masterlist

The moving truck was still idling at the curb, but Y/n barely noticed. She stood in the middle of her new flat, arms stretched out like she could hug the space into life. A smile tugged at her lips, her own little one-bedroom, one-bathroom sanctuary on the outskirts of London. No parents. No shared walls with nosy neighbours. Just her. "Look at this place!" She breathed, spinning slowly in the middle of the tiny living room. "It’s perfect."

Behind her, Ollie leaned against the doorframe, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, watching her with a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Yeah. Perfect." She turned, catching the way he was scanning the narrow kitchen, the slightly scuffed skirting boards, the single radiator that groaned when it turned on. "Why are you being like this?" She asked, tilting her head at him. He blinked, straightening. "Being like what?"

"Like you’re at a funeral instead of at my very first apartment." She walked toward him, crossing her arms. "You offered to buy me a place, remember? Then, you tried to convince me to just move in with you. And when I said no, you suddenly became-" She gestured vaguely at him. "This." Ollie sighed, shifting his weight. "It’s just a bit small, that’s all." Y/n rolled her eyes, the fond smile returning. "Ollie. I’m perfectly fine in this flat. It’s mine. I can afford it. That’s what matters."

His jaw worked for a moment, but when she looped her arms around his neck, he let himself melt into her closeness. She pressed a kiss to his lips, warm and soft, and for a second he forgot about the peeling paint in the hallway. "Better?" She murmured against his mouth. "Maybe." He said, though a smirk had finally replaced his pout. His hands slid down to her waist as he leaned in again. "Should we maybe go see the bedroom?" She let out a laugh, shoving his chest lightly. "Oh, please. We’ve got boxes to move, mister." He groaned, tipping his head back dramatically. "Boxes can wait."

"They really can’t." She stepped away, grabbing one of the lighter ones from the stack by the door. "Come on, big strong Formula 1 driver. Let’s see if you’re actually useful outside of a car." Ollie muttered something under his breath, but when she flashed him a teasing grin, he caved, scooping up two boxes at once.

As they made their way into the flat, he glanced around again, his chest loosening just a little. Sure, it was small. Sure, he wished she’d just let him spoil her. But watching Y/n beam at her new home, at her own space, he realized maybe her version of perfeft really did beat his.

[the-offside-rule]

Guyssss

Guess whos starting to write the 25 Days of Christmas ficsssss. Below, tell me some athletes you want to be seen in the 25 days this year!

[the-offside-rule]

Hola a todos. Esto va dirigido a los hispanohablantes. Necesito un poco de ayuda. Estoy escribiendo una fanfiction y tengo una idea para el título, pero no sé cuál sería la forma correcta. Quiero poner simplemente "gossip" como título, pero en español. Sería mejor:

Un chisme

Los chismes

O simplemente el verbo chismear?

Y si pudieran explicármelo para que mi comprensión del idioma mejore, se los agradecería mucho.

(Perdón si tengo algún error, el español no es mi primera lengua).

[the-offside-rule]

Kneecap requests Are closed due to the sheer volume of them😭

[the-offside-rule]

Cooper DeJean (Philadelphia Eagles) - Studious

Requested: yes (just in time for college starting back up)

Prompt: this ask

Warnings: none

Y/n had a reputation. Not just as Cooper DeJean’s girlfriend, but as the college student WAG who somehow balanced her coursework with every NFL Sunday. By now, fans were almost as excited to see what she wore to the stadium as they were to see the Eagles hit the field. Chic blazers in autumn, sleek trousers in winter, silk blouses tucked into skirts in spring—all with some subtle nod to Philadelphia. Emerald earrings, forest-green nails, or that one belt with the polished silver buckle in the shape of an eagle’s wing. She made it look effortless.

But this Sunday? Y/n was tired.

She tossed her pen down onto her open notebook and rubbed her temple. Three essays, two exams this week, and a research paper. No way she was strutting into the stadium like it’s fashion week today.

"Babe?" Cooper leaned against the doorframe, already in part of his Eagles gear, watching her. "You still working? We’ve gotta head out in like twenty."

"I know, I know." She sighed and swiveled in her chair to look at him. She had been staring at the open closet like it had personally wronged her in between needing study breaks. Normally, pre-game prep was fun—picking out chic trousers in just the right shade of green, matching them with a sleek coat, maybe even her little silver eagle earrings. But today? Today, she felt like she’d rather curl up in sweats and do nothing. Cooper leaned against the doorframe, already in his team gear, arms folded across his chest with that familiar smirk tugging at his lips. "You’ve been glaring at your clothes for twenty minutes." He said. "What did they do to you?"

"They exist." Y/n muttered, tugging on her ponytail. "I don’t feel like dressing up today. I know people expect me to show up looking like I’m about to walk a runway, but I just want sweatpants, maybe your hoodie, and some mascara so I don’t look dead." Cooper raised his brows, clearly amused. "Sweatpants? At the stadium? You?"

"What?" She defended, standing up. "Is there a law against girlfriends dressing like actual college students once in a while? I just don’t have the energy to plan an outfit today." He looked her up and down almost with pity. "Don’t get me wrong." He chuckled, pushing off the doorframe to come closer. "I think you’d look good in a trash bag. Just… you know the cameras are always looking for you now. They’ll probably be confused." Y/n smirked, tugging open his closet. "Good. Let them be confused. I can't get distracted by cameras and stuff today." She pulled out one of his oversized Eagles hoodies, the light grey one with the crisp logo across the chest, and held it up. "This one’s mine for today." He watched her pull it over her head. "That’s my lucky hoodie."

"Since when do you have a lucky hoodie?" She scoffed. "Since you started wearing it." Y/n’s head snapped up, narrowing her eyes. "You've noticed?" She asked. "Notice? You think I haven’t been wondering where my favorite hoodie disappeared to last week? Or my beanie?" Y/n grinned sheepishly. "Well, its not yours anymore." She teased, pulling her hair free from the collar and tying the sleeves loosely around her shoulders so it looked almost intentional. Then she grabbed her grey sweats and a fitted black bodysuit, balancing comfort with some structure. A sweep of mascara and tinted lip balm was all she could muster before shoving her laptop and notepad into her leather purse. "Damn, you look fine." He said, prompting a twirl from his girlfriend. "You are incredibly biased, though."

"Yeah, but I’m also incredibly right." He reached for her hand, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. "Wear whatever makes you feel good. It’s a game, not a fashion show. Though, full disclosure, I do like when you wear my hoodie." Cooper said as he leaned against the dresser, arms crossed, shaking his head with a grin. "You’re really about to cause chaos out there, you know that?" Y/n shrugged, slipping on her sneakers. "Chaos is part of the job description, isn’t it? Besides, I’m still bringing my laptop and notes. Some poor fan will snap a picture of me doing econ problems while you’re on defense and it’ll go viral. Outfit doesn’t even matter."

The second they stepped out of the car and walked toward the stadium, the familiar hum of camera shutters started. Y/n felt Cooper’s hand brush against hers before settling at the small of her back, guiding her toward the players’ entrance. "Y/n! What’s the outfit today?" One photographer called. Another shouted, "Sweatpants, really? That’s the fit?" Cooper lowered his voice, leaning close enough for only her to hear. "Told you they’d be confused." Y/n bit back a laugh. "Wait until they realize I’ve got your hoodie on. Half of Philly is gonna want to buy this exact one." That made Cooper grin. "Should I be flattered or concerned?"

"Bit of both." She teased, and they both broke into giggles just as another cameraman shouted. "What’s so funny?" He said. "It’s an inside joke!" Y/n called back, waving them off. Cooper just shook his head, still smiling. At the players’ tunnel, he gave her hand a squeeze. "Alright, same as always. Don't drive yourself crazy, enjoy the game, I love you." She smiled, standing on her toes to kiss him quickly. "M'kay. Love you too."

Inside the suite, it was routine for Y/n. "Hey, Charlie." She said warmly as she passed the guest list stand. "Afternoon, Y/n." Charlie greeted, checking her in like always. She continued down the hall, stopping by the snack stand. "Hi, Tom.C

"Good to see you, Y/n. You want your usual?" He asked, already reaching for the trail mix, m&m's and pretzels. "Please." She said with a grateful smile before heading into the DeJean family suite. The space had become her little sanctuary and for good reason too. Cooper decided to implement rules to the suite whenever Y/n was around; no shouting or screaming unless there's a touchdown. Yes you could talk, but don't be too loud.

She set her purse down on the same chair she always claimed, unpacking her tools of war: the six pastel highlighters, her battered but reliable laptop, her thick notepad already covered in notes from the week, and her favorite pen. She lined them up with precision, the same way she did in her campus library. She whipped out her phone to reply to her mom, but instead saw she had been mentioned in a lot of instagram and twitter posts.

|| User304 She’s a real one. Homework at the game?? Queen.

|| eagleswagfan forget designer fits, THIS is the move. She’s just like us but better.

|| coopdejean101 The hoodie. The sweats. The multitasking. I’m obsessed.

|| User101 She’s literally in sweats and still better dressed than me on my best day.

|| User836 Normalize showing up comfy to support your man. Queen behavior.

|| dejeanfan This is peak real-college-girl lifestyle and I’m obsessed.

Y/n smiled, then tucked her phone away and went about her routine like muscle memory. Before settling in, she returned to Tom to fill her water bottle, then made her way back to her seat. She pulled her special glasses from the case, blue-light frames to save her eyes from the glow of her screen, and pushed them up the bridge of her nose. Within minutes, she was exactly where she wanted to be: tucked away, hoodie snug, laptop glowing, pen tapping lightly against paper as the stadium buzzed outside.

By the time the first whistle blew, she was leaned back in her chair, typing away—hoodie tied casually around her shoulders, sweatpants tucked into her sneakers—looking like she could ace an exam and watch a football game at the same time.

The game buzzed on, the crowd loud enough to rattle the glass walls of the suite. Y/n was hunched over her laptop, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands as she highlighted a passage in neon pink. Every so often, the roar of the stadium broke her concentration.

Then, midway through the second quarter, the cameras panned across the crowd, searching for the usual sideline stars and family suite reactions.

And then—her.

The feed cut to Y/n, sitting cross-legged in her seat with her laptop propped open, pen tapping against her notepad. The hoodie sleeves draped over her shoulders, her blue-light glasses catching a glint of stadium light. She looked up only when she heard the crowd’s sudden change in noise—the soft, amused cheer that swept around the stadium. Her face filled the jumbotron.

"Oh, God." She muttered, immediately pushing a hand through her hair with a nervous smile. With nowhere to hide, she gave the crowd a little wave, cheeks heating up as she mouthed, hi.

On the sideline, Cooper had been in his bubble—helmet off, towel around his neck, eyes scanning the field for the next play—until one of his teammates nudged him hard in the arm. "Bro, look!" Cooper blinked, following the pointing finger up toward the jumbotron. And there she was. His girl. Hoodie draped around her, glasses perched on her nose, smiling like she had no clue the whole stadium had fallen in love with her at that exact second. And his grin spread slowly, not the cocky kind, not the playful kind he usually wore, but soft. Like he’d just fallen for her all over again.

The cameras, quick to catch a reaction, cut from Y/n’s shy wave to Cooper’s expression on the sideline. The stadium erupted again, some fans laughing, others cheering louder than before. Y/n glanced up at the screen, realizing what had just happened. Her heart gave a little squeeze as she saw Cooper’s grin magnified across the stadium.

On instinct, she lifted her hand, blowing him a kiss from her seat. Down below, Cooper, without hesitation, waved up at the suite and returned the kiss. Even though he could barely see her face through the lights and glass, he knew she was doing the same.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

The game wrapped, and the stadium slowly emptied, but Y/n kept to her little routine. She packed her laptop away, capped her highlighters, and tucked her glasses back into their case before slinging her purse over her shoulder. By the time she made her way outside the players’ tunnel, the night air was cool against her cheeks.

A small crowd of fans was gathered near the barricades, waiting for autographs, photos, and just one more glimpse of their favorite players. When they spotted her, the volume rose instantly.

"Y/n! We saw you on the jumbotron!"

"You’re gorgeous, girl!"

"Fit of the season, hands down!"

Y/n laughed, cheeks warming as she lifted a hand in a wave. "Thank you! You’re all too sweet." She said, genuinely touched. A few people even shouted encouragement about her schoolwork, which made her grin even wider. "I’ll try to ace my exams for you guys, too!"

The security team shifted slightly as the players began filtering out, but the crowd’s cheers surged when Cooper finally appeared. Helmet tucked under his arm, hair still damp from the shower, he spotted Y/n instantly. Without hesitation, he made his way straight to her. "Hey, you." He said softly, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her lips, the kind that said I missed you, even though you were just a few hundred feet away the whole time. The crowd behind them erupted—half cheering, half awww-ing.

Y/n smiled up at him, nudging his side as they started walking toward the car together. "You know, you stole the show on that jumbotron." She said. "Me?" smirked, tightening his grip around her waist. "Pretty sure you’re the one everyone’s still talking about." She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. "Whatever you say, Coop."

[the-offside-rule]

Hihi!! I was just wondering if you’d write for Moglai Bap? 💌

Cinnte of COURSE

(look at how fine this mf is)

[the-offside-rule]

Hi, I saw that you say you write for any sport so I was just wondering if you would write for Basketballers and/or Professional Bull Riders? Of course it's no problem if you don't. Thank you 💖

Yes ofc go ahead. I dont have a prompting for them but feel free to send me on some xx