#(still it's nice to know that i have some followers from my country as well ^^)

[cubur]

Occasionally i look through your blog to see your gorgeous art and see a random app banned in your country. And everytime i say to myself huh what a weird coincidence that's banned here too. And remember we both live in Türkiye.

Others cannot understand us 🥂

[ramp-it-up]

Bolder

Summary: Bucky and Steve's relationship is practically perfect in any way. And then Bucky wishes for what would make it complete for his birthday. Happy Birthday Bucky Barnes!

Word count: 5.6 K

Pairing: Stucky x Enhanced!Reader (Sparrow)

A/N: This is another dream inspired by #BuckyBarnesBirthdayBingo by @avengers-assemble-bingo. This fulfills the square: Another Year Older, Another Year Bolder. Althought I've written mfm before, I've not written Stucky. Let me know how I did. 😬 Please reblog, comment, and like!

Another note: This is canon divergent in the events of Endgame, Steve returns from replacing the Infinity Stones, but he still gives Sam the shield.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Smut! Bucky and Steve. That should be the entire warning, but it's not. Grumpy Steve and, cock blocker Sam. Poly sex acts, angst, emoting, wild thoughts, a birthday wish, which leads to birthday sex. Birthday sex: Captain and Sargeant kink, fingering, voyeurism, nipple play, oral (female receiving), raw p in v, two sex acts simultaneously (not dp) cock denial, creampie, squirting. I wish I could say this was a one shot, but... well, let me know if you want another part.

I do not have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-----

The way Bucky pushed back against Steve’s command and control, subtly at times, outrageously at others, was a sight to witness.

The order and restraint that defined the former Captain America trembled in Bucky’s presence.

And Steve made Bucky come alive, fully awake for the first time in years. 

Steve belonged to Bucky and Bucky to Steve, for almost a century, even when he couldn’t remember his own name. After all they’d been through, they finally had the time and space to proclaim and celebrate their love.

They were the most beautiful couple you’d ever seen. 

When you first joined the team, you were starstruck not because they were some of the most famous Avengers, the hero and the villain, but because they were sun and moon, yin and yang, and seemed utterly perfect and complete in their relationship.

They were nice to you, respectful and curious, as you were the most like them. But you were so very different. You’d wanted to serve your country as a volunteer for a 20 week trial of the serum, the effects of which you were assured would be reversed.

Turned out, the people doing the assuring were HYDRA in disguise.

Now, here you were, another supersoldier and newbie on the team, and that caused them to drift toward you naturally. Skittish at first, you warmed up to them and became the third musketeer, training, working together, and hanging out.  

Your code name was Sparrow, because you were small yet fierce, which Steve admired, and handy with sharp implements, which made Bucky smile, which was a feat.

With this team, you third wheeling became a running joke. Although you didn’t admit that you would jump at the chance, you could handle the ribbing, mainly because you thought you were in no danger of having your deepest fantasies fulfilled. 

Of course it was a joke, because what would they need with you?

It was a question you were beginning to ask more in the past few months. It had almost been a year since you joined the Avengers and everyone was comfortable with you now.

Especially Bucky and Steve. 

As time progressed, way they acted with you was more than familiar and you began to feel something…else in the way they interacted with you.

When he looked at you, Steve’s gaze was steady, with heat simmering just beneath it. You admired the way he shared command of the team with Sam easily, his restrained and disciplined demeanor the default until he was pushed.

And so you did it, because you wanted to see that control crack for you like it did with Bucky. 

You disobeyed Steve on a routine mission, but the actions you took put you in slightly more danger than was planned. Steve snapped and chewed you out so thoroughly that you were wet for the entire seven minutes that he lectured you on protocol. It was a thorough dressing down, and it made you want to get undressed for him.

After, he retreated to the other side of the room, looking at you like he was considering all the ways he could break you apart and put you back together. You stared back at him, silently daring him to.

He would have bent you over the desk if Sam hadn’t told him to give you a break. He stalked out and you wanted to follow him and submit to anything he wanted, but Sam followed him instead.

Bucky didn’t hold back that day either. His hunger was blatant, carved into the smirk that tugged at his lips, in the way he leaned just a little too close, testing, demanding.

His voice dropped when he spoke to you, low and rough, thick with the promise of something dark and dangerous. 

“What you did wasn’t too smart, Sparrow. You shouldn’t put yourself in danger like that. Better be careful, before Steve takes it out on your ass.”

Bucky devoured you with those sharp and knowing eyes, like he already knew how you’d sound when you moaned his name and how you’d feel beneath his hands.

“Something tells me that you wouldn’t mind that…”

Sam came back into the room and cocked blocked yet again. This time you escaped the situation. 

After that, you were caught in a storm of tension so thick it was dizzying. You knew what Bucky and Steve were to each other, two halves of something unbreakable that was forged through war and loss and survival. 

And yet, somehow, they’d turned their attention on you.

The heat between you was filled with unspoken promises that these two men would destroy you in the most exquisite ways. 

And God help you, you wanted them to.

—-

Bucky’s birthday rolled around not too long after that, a crisp March day bright with newfound sunlight and celebration.

Steve had apologized to you and you to him, yet there was something unfinished there. He still held you at arms length.

Nevertheless, you were able to have a fun day celebrating your “old man,” as you joked about Bucky. Steve’s eyes flashed and Bucky’s jaw clenched when you said it. 

And when you kissed him on the cheek after wishing him happy birthday, Steve’s cock hardened when he noticed the way Bucky’s fingers twitched on your lower back.

Bucky had never been one for birthdays. For too many years, they were just another mark on a calendar he didn’t remember, a reminder of how much time had slipped through his fingers like sand.

But now, things were different. Bucky was bolder now.

The older Bucky got, the more he leaned into asking for what he wanted. And for what he needed.

Because of that newfound boldness, now he had Steve.

And this year, he had you.

Was that right?

Maybe he should’ve questioned the way you had slipped into their lives like you were always meant to be there, and the way his body recognized your presence before his mind did.

But it was all so obvious.

He noticed it in the way Steve looked at you, that quiet hunger he tried to reign in but never quite managed to. He felt it in himself, in the way his pulse jumped when you laughed, in the way his fingers twitched with the need to touch you. It was also in the way his stomach tightened whenever you looked straight through him into his essence.

Only Steve had been able to do that before. 

And Steve was lost, too. His eyes followed you when you walked out of a room, like he was waiting for the moment you'd return. 

Strangely Bucky wasn’t jealous, but at first he was alarmed when he noticed the way you looked at both him and Steve. Like you were just waiting for one of them to finally say it out loud.

But then he realized that he just needed to ask for what he wanted. For what he and Steve both needed.

So Bucky did.

It was 2 AM of the morning after night of his birthday, the three of you the last hangers on in the living room of their apartment. Each time you made to leave, one of them drew you into another conversation.

Finally, Steve lit the match.

He asked Bucky what he wished for when he blew out his candles.

Bucky didn’t even hesitate because he wasn’t good at pretending. Never had been.

"I wished for Sparrow to join us," he said simply, leaning back against the couch, watching as Steve processed his words.

Neither you, nor Steve, had to question what he meant. The meaning was painfully clear.

Steve’s blue eyes flickered with something unreadable. His jaw tightened as his fingers flexed against his thigh. Bucky could tell he was already overthinking, probably considering a dozen different ways this could go wrong. 

That was just the way Steve was, always careful, always considerate. Even to the point of denying himself.

But Bucky knew Steve wanted this too.

Across from them, you stilled. Then, slowly, like you wanted them to see, you tilted your head and uncrossed your legs in your short skirt, just to cross them again, the smooth slide of your thighs against each other made Bucky’s mouth go dry and Steve’s pulse race.

A smirk played at the edge of your lips, but your eyes gave you away. There was curiosity there, something that said you’ve thought about this too.

Bucky pretended to be cool even as tension and heat coiled tight in his gut. 

"It’s my birthday. And I figured—why not make it interesting?"

Steve exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand through his golden hair, his ears tinged red. Bucky knew that look. 

He had seen it in battle, right before Steve made a decision that would change everything. 

He’d seen it in private, right before Steve begged for his cock.

Steve’s gaze flickered to you, then back at Bucky, then at you again. He and Bucky had built something solid between them, something unshakable, but he couldn't deny there was a certain pull whenever you were around.

The tension, the glances, the way you fit so seamlessly into their lives. It was heady.

You sat watching the scene, eyes flickering between them with interest.

"You don't have to say yes," Bucky said, giving Steve an easy out. 

But he smirked anyway, because deep down, he already knew what the answer would be. Steve was flustered, Bucky could tell, but not upset. 

No, this was something else.

"You’ve been thinking about this for a while, haven’t you?" you asked Bucky, your voice smooth, teasing.

"Sweetheart, you have no idea," Bucky chuckled.

You gasped as if those words alone sent a jolt through you. Then you hummed trying to remain calm as you tapped a finger against your knee, eyes flickering toward Steve. 

"And you, Captain?"

Steve’s breath hitched just slightly as he gazed at you. Small, but Bucky caught it.

And when Steve’s gaze landed back on him, slow and deliberate, Bucky felt it. That heat. That unspoken understanding. 

Bucky saw it happen in real time, the shift in Steve’s expression, the way his pupils blew wide, the way his fingers twitched like he was fighting the urge to reach for you right now.

Steve smiled and his voice was a low rasp when he finally spoke.

"Happy birthday, Buck."

Bucky grinned.

—

The second Steve said it, the air in the room changed.

You didn’t move right away, just watched them, your breath just a little uneven. Bucky could feel your body heat, close enough to touch. Close enough to ruin.

He’d imagined this. Countless times. 

What it would be like to have you here, caught between him and Steve, wanting them.

But reality was so much better.

Bucky reached out first, metal fingers around your wrist, pulling you up and forward until you landed on his lap with a soft gasp. His other hand found your waist, grinding you against him. Your body was warm, soft, and pliant in all the ways he had dreamed about.

"You sure about this, sweetheart?" he murmured against your ear, his lips just barely brushing the sensitive skin there. 

His voice was rough and hungry.

You shivered in his grip. 

"I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t."

Bucky let out a low chuckle, his grip tightening. 

"Good."

Behind you, Steve shifted, so close Bucky could feel the desire radiating off him. When he spoke, his voice was thick.

"You look good like this," Steve murmured, and when you turned your head slightly to look at him, Bucky caught the way Steve's face changed to a look of pure lust.

Fuck.

Bucky had always known Steve wanted you, just as much as he did. He’d seen it in the way Steve watched you, in the way he tried to be respectful, to keep a distance, even though everything in him wanted to close it.

Not anymore. He was going to help Bucky thoroughly defile you.

Bucky leaned in, pressing his lips just beneath your jaw, smirking when he felt your pulse racing beneath his lips.

"You gonna let us take care of you, Sparrow?" he rasped. "Since it is my birthday, after all."

Your breath was uneven, but you didn’t hesitate. You turned slightly in his lap, your fingers reaching up to fist in Steve’s shirt, tugging him closer.

"Yes. I want you both to take care of me tonight.”

With those words, the space between all three of you disappeared in an instant. Bucky felt your body press against his, your breath warm against his neck, and it took everything in him not to lose himself right then and there. 

He wanted to take his time. He wanted to feel this, wanted to drag it out until you were breathless, until Steve’s control cracked, until all three of you were left trembling in the aftermath.

Steve’s lips hovered just above yours, his breath uneven. Bucky watched, enthralled, as you stared up at him, eyes dark and half-lidded.

"You absolutely certain about this?" Steve asked, voice low and thick with something deeper than just desire.

You reached up, moving your fingers around the back of his neck, pulling him down until your lips brushed his. 

"Never been more certain of anything."

Steve groaned softly, capturing your lips in a slow, hungry kiss. Bucky exhaled sharply, his grip on your waist tightening as he felt you melt between them.

Holy shit, this was happening.

Watching you kiss Steve, watching the way his hands skimmed over your sides and the way your body responded, Bucky swore he could feel it in his own skin.

When you finally pulled away, your breath hitched, and your lips were swollen as your eyes flickered toward Bucky. He smirked, tilting his head slightly, fingers grazing your jaw before he leaned in, capturing your lips with his own.

While Steve’s kiss had been slow and languid, Bucky’s was something else entirely.

Possessive. Starved.

You let out a soft sound against his mouth, your fingers tightening in his shirt as he deepened the kiss, his metal hand trailing up your spine, cold against the heat of your skin. You shivered, arching just slightly, and hell, that was enough to drive him crazy.

Behind you, Steve let out a low chuckle, pressing closer, his lips grazing your collarbone. 

"Didn’t think you’d be the greedy one, Buck," he murmured, amused.

Bucky smirked against your lips. 

"Oh, I know how to share." 

His blue eyes flickered between both of you, dark and full of promise. 

"Especially when it’s something this good."

Your breath came in shallow pants, eyes flickering between them, heat pooling between the three of you, thick enough to drown in.

Steve’s fingers traced the curve of your jaw, tilting your face back toward him, his lips barely ghosting over yours as he whispered, “You sure you can handle us both, Sweetheart?”

His voice was teasing, but beneath it was reverence, like he needed to be sure before he let himself fall. This was the fourth time they’d asked for your consent.

They were really about to ruin you.

“Guess we’re about to find out,” you murmured.

A soft, delighted hum rumbled in Steve’s chest behind you. Bucky caught the way your body shivered at the sensation of the warmth of Steve pressed against your back and at the weight of Bucky in front of you. 

Sandwiched between them, you fit perfectly, like you had always belonged here, like this was inevitable.

“We should take our time with this,” Steve murmured against the skin of your neck.

“Make sure she knows exactly what she’s gotten herself into.”

Bucky smirked, sliding his metal hand up your spine, relishing the way you arched into his touch. 

“That sounds like a plan, Stevie.”

The way they were talking about you as if you weren’t there served to make you wetter than you already were. You wanted to be used by them for their pleasure.

For yours. 

The two men looked at each other in a silent exchange that didn’t need words. It had always been that way between them. Decades of understanding built through war, through loss, and through finding each other over and over again despite the odds. 

But this?

This was new.

Sharing something, someone, this intimately wasn’t just about lust. 

It was trust. It was knowing Steve would move when Bucky moved, and that Steve would read him the way he always had. It was knowing that they could balance each other, even in this.

And you were centered in it, the tether between them, the unspoken possibility they had both been too afraid to touch until now.

Bucky slid his hand to the back of your neck, guiding your lips back to his. He kissed you slowly and deeply, savoring the way you melted into him, the way you rolled yourself over him. 

The sound of your soft sigh sent heat curling in his stomach, and just as he deepened it, Steve’s hand slid over your hips, grinding you down harder on Bucky’s lap.

“Fuck, you feel s’good, Bucky”

You were already lust drunk, the thought that you would have them both electrifying your body. And your mind.

“Think she likes this,” Steve mused, fingers teasing at the hem of your shirt.

“What do you think, Buck?”

Bucky pulled back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes dark, searching. You were breathless, caught between them, pupils blown wide.

“Oh, she loves this,” he murmured, dragging his metal fingers down your spine again, watching the way you arched your back, feeling the heat pool between your legs.

Steve hummed in approval, his grip on your shirt turned to pulling it up and over your head. Bucky’s eyes widened at the fact that you didn’t have on a bra. Well, he’d guessed at it earlier as his eyes took in your body, but seeing you in the flesh, and in his face made his blood heat. 

When Steve grabbed your tits and, softly at first, then more urgently pulled and rolled your nipples, Bucky licked his lips and glanced over your shoulder before he leaned down and sucked you through Steve’s fingers. 

You threw your head back on Steve’s chest as you rode Bucky’s straining jeans covered cock.

Oh, this was heaven.

“Open your eyes, Sparrow.” 

You hadn’t even realized you’d closed them. You opened your eyes as Bucky’s hands went to your thighs and spread you wider against him. The move bunched your skirt high up around your hips, leaving you with only your panties covering you. 

Steve watched as Bucky pulled your dress higher yet and then palm your pussy through your panties. He reached down and together, the two men tore your panties and tossed them aside like they were made of tissue paper.

“She’s so wet, Stevie. Wet and…” 

Bucky slid his hand to your pussy and pushed two fingers into you.

“…Tight. Holy fuck she’s going to feel so good.” 

You rocked your hips to take his fingers deeper, but he gripped you with his metal hand, forcing you still.

“"M gonna fuck you first since it's my birthday. But should we show Steve what he’s missing?” 

Bucky’s touch, while authoritative and demanding, was nothing less than reverent. And Steve’s gaze was on you as much as it was on Bucky. 

You made a noise that must have been enough for Bucky, because he turned you around on his lap as Steve backed up for a better view. Bucky palmed and finger fucked you for Steve’s benefit.

And yours.

You moaned and squirmed in his clutch, while the only reaction from the blond was a tightening in Steve’s jaw and his blue eyes going molten steel. Bucky laughed softly. 

“I’ll tell you a secret, Sparrow. I’ve never met a man with better control than Steve. It’s downright supernatural. It’ll take a better show than this to get him over back over here to put his hands all over you.” 

He nipped your earlobe. 

“If you make it very, very good, I’ll even let him use his mouth.” 

There wasn’t enough air in the room. There couldn’t be. Your breath hitched in your lungs, and it took you two tries to force words out. 

“What–what if I want his cock?” 

This time, Bucky’s laughter filled the room. He sat up, taking you with him, and positioned you with your legs on either side of his thighs. 

“Tell her, Stevie.” 

The other man crossed his arms across his broad chest, his features cold. Why did that turn you on so much?

“After what you did on that last mission, you have to earn my cock, Sparrow.” 

His arrogance should have been a turnoff. It should have made you want to put him in his place and make him earn access to you. Instead, a part of you that you just met whispered in your brain.

I want to earn your cock, Steve. Just tell me what I need to do. 

You slammed your mouth shut hard enough that your teeth clicked to avoid giving voice to those thoughts. You took a breath, and then another, then leaned back against Bucky more firmly. 

“Then let me play with you, Sargeant.” 

Bucky didn’t laugh again. You were a team now, testing Steve’s restraint. He let you stand and guided you out of your clothes.  A few seconds later, his shirt joined the growing pile, then he sat you back down on him again. 

The shock of his bare skin against your own drew a small moan rom your lips. There wasn’t a soft spot on his body, and he caged you with his chest and arms, one flesh and one metal, holding you open for Steve’s perusal. 

You twisted to offer him your mouth, needing to taste him again, and Bucky didn’t hesitate to give in to your unspoken request. His tongue tangled with yours, and he cupped your bare breasts and pinched your nipples to aching peaks. Bucky spread his thighs, forcing yours wider.

You felt Steve’s gaze all over you: On the curve of your neck. Following the path of Bucky’s hands. Centering where your pussy was exposed.

You felt it as if he’d reached out and touched you. 

Or maybe it was Bucky responsible for those sensations. It was too much and not enough and you whimpered against his mouth. 

“Stop teasing and touch me.” 

You grabbed his hand and pressed it between your spread thighs. 

“Please, Bucky. I’m gonna die if you don’t make me cum..” 

“Can’t have that, can we Stevie?” 

He looked him in the eye as he drew your wetness up around your clit with a single finger and circled the sensitive bundle of nerves, easily finding the motion that made your entire body go tight and hot. You opened your eyes and met Steve’s gaze as your orgasm spiraled closer and closer. 

A challenge rolled around your brain.

I’ll get what I want, and you’ll have to watch while it happens, knowing you could have been a part of it.

Bucky, damn him, seemed to know exactly you were thinking. He slowed his pace, dragging it out. You whimpered.

“You see how he looks at you? He’s seconds away from stalking over here, smacking my hand away, and licking that pretty pussy until he takes your orgasm for himself.” 

You made that soft whimpering sound again. The whole situation was overwhelming your senses, dragging you into a place where every part of you centered around these two men. 

“Please!” 

You didn’t know what you were pleading for. An orgasm. Bucky. Steve. All three. 

“I’ll make you a deal, Sparrow,” Bucky murmured in your ear, his finger never stopping its slow circles that seemed designed to keep you on the edge but never take you over it. 

“I’ll let you choose this time. Who do you want to gift this orgasm to?” 

“Both!” 

The answer tore itself from your lips, too honest for your own good. Steve grinned. His white teeth flashed and his eyes lit up with amusement, the whole effect knocking him from just handsome to downright dangerous. 

Oh God, what have I gotten myself into, you thought. 

Bucky kissed the back of your neck.

“Good girl.” 

He slid his hand away from you cunt as you grunted in displeasure.

“Stop playing and get over here, Steve. We’ve got to take care of our girl.”

Steve walked toward you and stopped to tip up your face, dragging his thumb over your bottom lip.

“This mouth was made for one thing.” 

You caught his thumb between your teeth and bit him, just hard enough to get his attention. You felt off-center and floaty and needy, but you weren't weak. 

You lifted your chin at the same time you looked at the bulge in his pants.

“Then do something about it.” 

There it was again. The heat radiating off of Steve that made you sure he wanted to ruin you. You shifted, but Bucky held you, caged and spread by your thighs and your elbows behind you.

You rocked your ass back against his cock, desperate for him to lose control the same way you were on the verge of doing. 

Steve just stood there, staring down at you with his mouth quirked in a smile. He released your mouth and shook his head.

“You haven’t earned my cock and you damn well know it.” 

He kneeled and braced his hands on Bucky’s legs. His knuckles dragged along your inner thighs, close enough to where you wanted him that you felt his heat near your clit

Steve leaned towards your face, his dark eyes intent, and you braced for another kiss. 

But he didn’t kiss you. He dragged his rough cheek against yours, and you twisted as best you could to watch him take Bucky’s mouth. 

You stared in shock as they kissed right next to you.

No, calling it a kiss was too mundane.

Steve and Bucky came together like two titans clashing, like opposing forces of nature, where one had to submit or they would destroy each other. Bucky shifted his grip on your elbows to one hand and used his free hand to tangle his fingers in Steve’s hair. 

He disconnected the kiss, and Steve groaned softly. You felt it as intensely as if it had come from your own throat. Bucky raked his teeth over Steve’s bottom lip as they parted, his blue eyes darker than they’d been before. He ran his thumb over Steve’s bruised mouth, mirroring what Steve had done to you. 

“You give her your cock when I say you do. Not before.” 

Through some unspoken agreement, they reversed positions. Bucky released your arms and Steve caught your wrists in a single hand before you had a chance to fully appreciate your freedom. He dropped onto the couch with you sprawled on his lap. 

You huffed out a breath. 

“I can move on my own, you know.” 

“We like moving you.” 

Bucky knelt between your and Steve’s spread thighs. 

“And you like being moved by us.”

He looked up at you and whatever smartass comment you were thinking of disappeared into thin air.

 “Wider, Stevie. I want to see all of her.” 

Steve responded, spreading his thighs and parting your legs further. Bucky ran his thumbs up the dip where your thigh met your pussy, exploring, his expression intense as if committing every bit of you to memory. 

He glanced at Steve, and that was all the other man needed to guide your hands down to the couch on either side of his hips. 

“Don’t move.” 

Steve spoke softly in your ear, as if too much volume would break through the spell Bucky wove around you three with his touch. Steve released you and you realized that he wanted his hands free, too. 

Lust made your head spin. 

You nodded, “Okay.” 

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the quirk of his lips. 

“Good girl.” 

Steve ran his hands up your stomach and cupped your breasts as Bucky dipped his head and dragged his tongue up your center. Your body went hot and cold, tight and unfurled, all at the same time.

You gripped the edge of the couch cushions with everything you had and bit your lip hard. It was only when Steve nudged you back to lean fully against his chest that you realized you were frozen in a half sit-up, waiting for Bucky’s next move.

The man between your thighs chuckled, the sound vibrating across your skin to your clit. 

“Let Steve watch, Sparrow.” 

Steve moved your thick hair to the side with one hand and dragged his mouth along the line of your shoulder up to your neck. His beard prickled against your skin, which only made the smooth slide of Bucky’s tongue even more intoxicating. 

Your brain couldn’t handle the onslaught of sensation. 

Bucky’s hands gripped your thighs as his mouth worked your pussy. Steve played with your nipples as he sucked on the pulse point in your neck. A sound came out of your mouth that you’d never heard before, a keening cry that was more animal than human. 

“There you are,” Steve murmured.

Bucky speared into you with two fingers, and then a third, spreading you almost painfully, the sensation completely at odds with the way he sucked your clit. He met your gaze and then looked over your shoulder, and you knew he and Steve were watching each other as Bucky ate your pussy. 

The realization sent you hurtling into an orgasm that blanked what few thoughts you had left in your head and bowed your back sharply enough that you would have fallen off Steve’s lap if both men hadn’t held you down. 

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh my god, oh shit.” 

You were just saying words as you experienced the feelings.

Bucky brought you down gently, giving your clit one last thorough suck and shifted to ever-widening circles as your pulses slowed down. He nipped your thigh and sat back on his heels. 

“We’ve barely gotten started.” 

You blinked at him. 

“I don’t know if I can survive more.” 

“You can take it.” 

This from Steve. He reached down and cupped your pussy, his fingers huge and causing you to dream of his cock.

“Change your mind yet, Sparrow?”

“Is that a trick question?”

They had gotten you off harder than you’d gotten off… well, ever. You weren’t about to stop now.

“I want this.”

Bucky didn’t take his gaze from your face as he unbuttoned his jeans and underwear and replied, “Good.”

You weren’t as polite. You stared at his cock.

Holy shit, you thought.

You’d known he was big, but he wasn’t just big, he was big.

“Oh fuck,” was what you said aloud.

“That’s the idea.”

Steve lifted you and turned you around as Bucky caught your hips. You ended up with your hands on the back of the couch on either side of Steve’s head, your legs wide on the outside of his thighs as you were bent over, tits very nearly in his face. 

You looked from his beautiful eyes down to his jeans, to where his large cock was straining against the heavy material. You licked your lips, but Steve used a single finger to tilt your chin back up.

“Not. Yet.”

Bucky stroked his metal hand down your spine and gripped your hip as he lined up at your entrance and you tensed, thinking he would slam home in one thrust.

Or maybe you were hoping.

Instead, he held you tightly so that you couldn’t throw it back on him, and teased you, one delicious inch at a time. 

“More, Bucky, moreeeee…”

You were desperate.

Steve shut you up with his mouth, his tongue twisting over yours as Bucky shoved into you to the hilt. Steve cut the kiss off prematurely, then sat back with a smirk as Bucky started fucking you.

“Oh. My. GOD!”

Bucky drove into you again and again, making you sob. He felt so fucking good. Pleasure spiraled through you, and you didn’t know if it was Bucky’s cock, or the way Steve was watching, or both, but you were so close so soon.

Bucky stilled, buried deep, then leaned over and braced his hand on the back of the couch, caging you in with his chest to your back. 

Steve moved, sliding down to sit on the floor.

“What are you…? Oh fuck…”

The words choked out of you as Steve captured your hips, his and Bucky’s hands entertwining around you, and then his mouth was on you.

“OH GODDDDD.”

“Not God, Sparrow, Steve.” 

Bucky started moving again slowly, and you weren’t able to do anything but take what they were doing to you.

Steve was relentless, and there was nothing restrained in the way his mouth moved over your pussy. He tongued your clit even as Bucky fucked you, and their hands clasped you so hard, that you were sure there would be bruises later.

The thought brought you closer to the brink.

You were gripping the couch so hard that your knuckles went white, and the wood inside was cracking from your strength.

The sight of Steve's golden head between your thighs, of knowing exactly how close it was to Bucky’s cock sent you speeding toward the edge.

Bucky seemed to read your mind. 

“Another time, and it would be a stroke for your pussy and one for his mouth,” he chuckled as he palmed your breast and rolled your nipple.

“You’d like that.”

“Yes!” you gasped.

Like didn’t even begin to describe how that image made you feel. And when Bucky’s fingers laced through Steve’s hair, holding him to your clit, it was too much. You could only imagine what Steve was doing to Bucky as well as you. And the image tipped you over the cliff.

Your orgasm buckled your knees and it was Steve and Bucky that kept you on your feet. They held you in place as Bucky kept fucking you, his strokes becoming wilder.

How could one person endure this much pleasure?

The pressure built until you couldn’t hold it any more and then the pleasure caused you to release, squirting all over Steve and all of you melted into a puddle on top of him.

You were speechless, as both Bucky and Steve soothed you with their hands, and words that were meaningless murmurs because of the blood rushing in your ears.

There was no mistaking that this wasn’t over yet. And that you didn’t want it to be.

Bucky stood up, and lifted you in his arms, looking at you for a minute as Steve started down the hallway ahead of you, stripping off his clothes.

You heard the shower start as Bucky murmured.

“Been one hell of a birthday so far. Stay with us tonight?”

“Yes,” you managed to whisper as Bucky claimed your lips again.

“Happy Birthday Bucky Barnes.”

——

Let me know if you liked it! 🥰

[l0v3-qu4rtz]

Wild West

Pairing: Cowgirl!Reader x Spencer Reid

Summary: Save a horse, ride a Federal Agent !

Disclaimers: VERY BAD COUNTRY ACCENT, silly horse riding, horse facts, super brief talk of a murder case. SMUT SMUT 18+ MDNI Dry humping, riding, piv sex, overstimulation, creampie, pet names, afterrcaree <3

A/N: NOT PROOFREAD ! i channeled all my angst and emo into this fic and i think the sex part is pretty good, does that make any sense ? Nope ! But did it work ? Yup !!! Anyway, COWBOY SPENCER !!!!!!

Spencer Reid never considered himself the spontaneous type, especially when it came to his free time. Preferring chess games in the parks against college students, reading in his apartment or spending his government money in libraries. He never fancied being an outdoorsy person, especially out in the sun, all that sweaty skin making his skin crawl. However that changed when a very beautiful and cute cowgirl made him an offer.

"No, I haven't seen anything down here. My cameras only catchin' some raccoons or deer, nothin' like murderers" You shrug as you lean against the fences lining the ranch, the agents nodding at your response and turning to walk away. "Hey.." you call out, specifically to the tall curly haired agent. "If you ever have any free time, feel free to stop by. My girls are nice, I promise" With a wink and soft giggles, the agents leave with one flustered and one with a shit eating grin on his face.

Stepping out of his car, the scent of horses strong in the air, it's slightly stinky but nothing horrible that you wouldn't expect. The dirt is dry and the air matches the feel, the wind blowing said dirt up. He squints from the sunlight hitting his face and he begins making his way onto the property. He stepped up on the wooden rickety porch and opened your very creaky screen door, the porch creaking in response under his weight. He doubts your home, seeming as its mid-day and you live on an equestrian farm. He figures you're most likely tending to them.

Still he knocked and waited. And when we didn't get an answer, he rightfully assumes his previous assumption was correct. He rounds your house to the back where he sees the back of your figure, tending to a beige horse. Your hands moved with such care and love and the wind blew your hair softly against your back. He hasn't even seen your face and he can already feel his chest tighten with excitement. You turn just at the right time to catch him walking about a foot away from your fence.

"Well look who it is, Doctor Reid" you tease as you walk closer to where he was standing on the other side of the fence.

"Wow, I'm surprised you remember my name" he's more flattered than surprised, placing his hands in his pocket.

"Well it aint often I got feds pokin and prodin around for serial killers" You tease, posting up with your hands on your hips as you both just stare at each other. Something sparking that wasn't expressed yet understood so well. You look away after a second or so "So, how about I show you around ?" He nods and enters the fence.

Hes a little wary about the horses and to combat that anxiety, he begins doing what he does best. "Did you know that horses have actually helped find several different diseases and cures, like HIV, HPV and even tumor viruses ?" He begins spewing facts about horses and ranches as he follows through the stables and around your farm.

"well aint that so ?" You reply and lean against the stable of a grulla horse, the horse poking it's head above the door and eyeing Spencer curiously. "This here is my darling angel, Rosie. She's the second horse I got when I was an older teen and she's been with me since" You introduce the horse to Spencer and pet her.

Rosie leans her head closer to Spencer, sniffing as he awkwardly greets the horse leaning back anxiously. Seeing the reaction from him, he huffs in Spencer's face and makes his hair slightly messy. You laugh at the mischievous behavior from Rosie. "I promise she's a sweetheart" you reassure him as he fixes his hair and wipes his face off.

After getting Spencer to change his converse for boots, you let him walk horses around with you before getting enough confidence and feel to actually ride them with you. Spencer tenses as the horse roams around, holding onto the horn of the saddle like it was a lifeline. You giggle as you ride next to him, telling him to relax and that Rosie won't hurt him "unless you want her to"

"I don't want her to !" Spencer responds, his tone much higher and scared than he meant it to be. You laugh at his response, turning your tobiano you were on to one side of the ranch and calling Rosie to come towards you. Hearing your call, Rosie comes prancing to you which causes Spencer to yelp and squeeze with his thighs as hard as he could out of fear of falling off. You can't help but laugh at his response, leaning forward as Spencer scolds you for laughing at him. "81% of horseback riders get injured sometimes during their life ! I have a right to be terrified !"

You roll your eyes at his geeky, anxious behavior and check the time on your watch, it's been 2 hours since you two started on the horses. "It's been 2 hours, you wanna call it ?" You ask and he responds with much glee at the suggestion. Getting off of the horse, you make quick work to get to Spencer's side to help him off the horse. It would suck if a federal agent fell off your horse and got trampled by your horse.

Back at the stables, after a nice talk and walk back, you get the horses settled into their stables. You both walk out the stable, laughing and getting to know each other slightly better. "You should've seen your face riding the horse !" You poked fun at him teasingly and he chuckled slightly embarrassed. "How was that case of yours you were with ?" You stop at the entrance when you ask him the question, crossing your arms and looking up at him.

"It went about the same as the rest of our cases, sadistic serial killer, a lot of childhood trauma that fueled a lot of his killing. Luckily we got him before he got to his 6th victim" He informs with the same glee and enthusiasm that he had with the horse facts.

You nod, pursing your lips "it's good we have handsome fellas like you protecting these lands" You smirk and raise a single brow at him. His face slightly flushes and he chuckles, stepping closer to you with his hands still in his pockets.

"You think I'm handsome ?" He asks with a low tone and you place your hands on his chest then slide them up to his shoulders. Once he feels your hands on him, he takes that as a cue to place his hands on your waist.

"I wouldn't have let just any agent on my property" you smile and he leans in, pressing his lips on yours. You reciprocate with the same slow romance before it quickly becomes rough and passionate. You both grasp and pull at each other, groaning and moaning into the kiss before you pull away and push him away softly. "Might wanna go to a spot with less eyes watching us" you tease and upon realizing what you mean, he agrees.

Not even three feet into the back door and you two are back to passion. With him, quickly undoing his buttons and you mirror his actions. You both toss the shirts in the dinning room and quickly make your way to the living room. You make quick on undoing your buckle and unzipping your pants after you push Spencer down onto your worn-in couch. Stepping out of your boots and jeans, you would've worn a matching bra and panties if you knew you would have such a wild guest but Spencer sure as hell isn't complaining. You climb onto his lap and flip your hair away from your face before going down to kiss him again.

Spencer's hands begin to develop a mind of their own as they wander the back of your body. Trailing down your back and gripping your ass, causing you to gasp into the kiss. The kiss quickly gets sloppy as you begin rocking your lips. You both pull away to release some blocked moans and groans, Spencer gripping your thighs as you dry hump him. "That's it baby" he softly praises you. You throw your head back as your hips gain speed and before you can start going even faster, his hands stop you.

You whine and lean against him, your hands trailing down his upper arms. "i need you, I wanna ride you" you softly beg practically in his ear.

"you like riding huh ?" He teases as you lean back to let him slide his jeans off just enough to reveal his boxers, and then his cock. You feel your cunt water just at the sight of it, already imagining how it's gonna feel deep inside you. You undo the clips of your bra and toss it just as you did with your shirt earlier. Spencer moans at the sight and his cock pulses against his tummy. He slides his hands from your waist up the front of your stomach to your boobs, letting his hands feel them. You mewl at the feeling, grabbing at his wrist as he massages your boobs.

"I wanna see your face as you ride me, baby" he speaks in a low tone. You bite your lip in response and sit up to move your panties to the side. Grabbing his cock, you begin to stroke it causing him to groan and throw his head back against the couch. You line him up with your entrance and connecting your lips with his, you start sitting down. As soon as you feel the stretch, you pull away and gasp out small moans. Balancing yourself with your hands on his shoulder, you slowly sink down til hes all the way inside you. You both haven't started and are already a moaning mess.

"oh my.." you gasp out, sitting still before sitting up and sinking back down. You gasp out sharp breaths and tiny moans as you start off slow. Spencer's hands grip your hips as you move up and down, matching your moans with each movement. Praises and expletives spilling out as you gain speed and as you ride him faster, the louder you both become. Thank god you don't have neighbors for hours because they won't be extremely uncomfortable and probably upset.

"Hon- ah..Honey, I'm so close- ah.." you manage between moans as you feel a heat pooling in your stomach. Spencer cups the peak of your ass as your rhythm becomes faster and almost animalistic in pursuit of your climax.

"Yea baby ? Go ahead, cum for me" He encourages and that's what pushes you to finish. You sink down, your legs shaking and your entire body heating up as you feel the wave hit you. The sweet, euphoric wave that makes your back arch and you cry out. Spencer grips your ass as you finish and squeeze around him. "Just a little more, okay ?" He softly asked before he began thrusting up into you, making you moan even louder. The overstimulation makes your mind spin and you swore you saw the pearly gates.

"Yes, Spencer ! Oh my god !" You cry out and he slams up into you, filling you. His hips shutters against you before you both collapse. You lay against him, breathing heavy as the heat wears off and your skin finally reacts to the cool ac in the room. He wraps his arms around you, checking your face. "Are you okay ?" He asks softly, through labored breathing.

"yea.." you breathe out, nodding before snuggling closer. He keeps his arms wrapped around you for only a moment before lifting your body to take himself out of you. Mixed cum dripping out of you, making you whimper as you feel it drip down onto his jeans and couch.

"i got you, it's okay" he softly comforts you before laying you down next to him, he tucks himself in his jeans and stands up. "Let me clean you up" he pecks your lips before hurrying off to your kitchen. Yup, this isn't gonna be the only time this hot ass fed rides your horses and there's definitely gonna be even more riding later on.

Masterlist

[woso-dreamzzz]

Second Time's The Charm XI

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: An old face watches a match

She wasn't as young as she once was.

Teaching hadn't originally been her first choice as a job but after finishing school and spending a few years bored senseless as a receptionist, at age twenty-five, she'd made the change to teaching children in their first year of school.

Now, twenty-five years later, she was getting older and her students seemed to be just as wild and excitable as they always had been.

This school trip hadn't exactly been planned by the school, not fully anyway but a generous donation from who knows where had her and a few other teachers taking a three classes of wiggling and excited five year olds to a home match for the Barcelona women's team.

"Let's get to our seats now," She says, trying to get everyone in her class seated and happy but it's like trying to fight a group of wet cats - a losing battle.

"Miss, he pushed me!"

"Miss, I want to sit with my friends!"

"Miss, I can't find my bracelet!"

"Miss, my Mami gave me spending money!"

"Miss!"

"Miss!"

"Miss!"

She sighs to herself, rattling off instructions in a way that only a practiced teacher could.

"Lucas, stop pushing people. We use our nice hands with people. Isabella, you can sit next to your friends if there's space. Ana, your bracelet got put into your bag. Pedro, spending money can be used at half time. Now, everyone needs to sit down or else they won't start the match!"

It takes a little while to get all the kids settled and she briefly thinks about how this would be a hell of a lot easier if the school had more people who could chaperone.

It's a fleeting thought because she knows she can't do anything about it now but still, it would be nice.

Nice like it is now to watch one of her old students walk out as one of the most well known footballers not only in Spain but the world as well.

Alexia Putellas, the captain of Barcelona, leads her team out - head held high and back straight. A far cry from the little girl that used to slump in her seat in class and cry when someone took her ball at breaktime.

There weren't many students that she remembered so well - a handful that have ended up in politics, one that somehow ended up at the UN and one whose arrest made national news.

But Alexia was one of the good ones, helpful and polite most of the time.

She can remember though, with startlingly clarity the second day of classes.

It had been her second day as a teacher ever and she'd been supervising the playground at lunch when Alexia had appeared and dragged her off.

She'd dragged her all the way to the slide where you'd been waiting.

"You have to marry us, Miss," Alexia had said, eyes wide and incredibly earnest," We want to get married."

"Er..."

"You have to, miss," You'd joined in," Because we're in love and my Papa always said that people in love get married."

She'd been speechless then but still done as you and Alexia said, a little charmed by those two little girls begging to be married under the slide.

Alexia was easy to follow now, her exploits known throughout the country on and off the pitch. You'd faded though and your old teacher wasn't quite sure where you'd ended up.

Likely something successful and important.

Even as a little girl, you'd had a good work ethic. Work before play, always, was something you'd abided by.

She could see you as something important now. Your parents were doctors, she's pretty sure, so maybe you followed in their footsteps.

It would suit you, she thinks as she watches Alexia slam the ball into the net for a third time today.

Barcelona wins.

But that's entirely to be expected.

What isn't expected though, is for the staff from the team to invite the classes down onto the pitch to meet the players.

"Carlos, don't run! Mia, don't yell over someone! Lucas, again! Stop pushing people! Everyone will get a turn!"

"Some things never change then."

She turns with a smile. "Alexia."

"Hi, Miss."

"You don't have to call me that anymore."

Alexia's brow wrinkles. "What else would I call you? You've always been my teacher."

"You're an adult now, Alexia. You don't have to call me that anymore if you don't want to."

"But I do. Is that alright?"

"That's okay. So long as you want to."

Alexia beams, the same big smile she had as a five year old when she would come to the desk with a picture she drew of herself in the Barcelona kit.

It's still strange to see that exact image in real life.

"I'd like to introduce you to one of my daughters. This is Maya."

"She's beautiful."

"Mi Amor is just changing our other daughter. They'll be out in a minute."

"It's nice to see that you're doing so well. A good job. A nice family."

"We have dogs too! And my wife's old cat! She built me a house, you know? My wife, that is. Not her cat."

It's nice to see that Alexia's word vomit from her childhood hadn't changed much either. She was so stoic and quiet most of the time but any topic that drew her interest could be (and would be) talked about for hours at a time.

"That's nice to hear, Alexia."

"And we bought a villa in Greece for our next holiday! And I bought her this nice matching bracelet and necklace set! But! You can't tell her because it's going to be a surprise!"

"A special occasion?"

Alexia looks affronted at the idea. "I don't need a special occasion to show my wife how much I love her! Just my love!" She turns, glancing over her shoulder and her whole face lights up. "Oh! Amor, you're back! Look, Miss Rivera is here!"

Miss Rivera looks over to the tunnel where you have emerged from, a babbling baby on your hip and a rock of a ring on your hand.

"Oh, hi, Miss!"

She sighs. "I told Alexia that you two don't need to call me that anymore."

You frown. "But you've always been our teacher. What else would we call you?"

"Miss, this is our new baby Elena." Alexia puffs out her chest proudly. "My wife gave birth to her. Doesn't she look good for giving birth a few months ago?"

You slap her on the shoulder before pressing a kiss to where you just slapped. "Don't listen to her, Miss. She'll take any excuse to talk about it."

Alexia nods solemnly. "It was very scary because there were complications but she's doing so well now. Both Elena and my wife. Right, Amor? She's a doctor, you know. Very successful."

Again, Alexia seems to preen like a peacock as if you being so successful and so smart brought her such pride.

"You've both been very successful," Miss Rivera says," I'm so proud. A long way from that marriage under the slide, huh?"

You grin, intertwining your fingers with Alexia's.

"But still married."

[steddieas-shegoes]

i don’t know why i can’t take my eyes off of you

for @steddielovemonth day one using You and Me by Lifehouse

rated t | 1186 words | no cw | tags: future fic, second chances, mutual pining, idiots in love, songwriter Eddie, teacher Steve

🛒🛒🛒🛒🛒🛒🛒🛒

Steve’s walking down the frozen section of Melvald’s when time stops.

Not literally. The watch on his wrist is still ticking. The clock on the wall at the front of the store is still moving. People around him are still grabbing their groceries.

But Eddie Munson is standing in front of the ice cream section like he belongs there.

Eddie left Hawkins five years ago.

He kissed Steve on the lips, then the forehead, and left.

Steve’s thought about it, about him, every day since.

Eddie hasn’t noticed him yet. Maybe Steve should leave before he does. Last he’d heard, Eddie was working at a recording studio as a songwriter, halfway making his dreams come true.

He’s happy, or at least that’s what all the kids have said when he’s brought up. They don’t know about the kiss, at least Steve doesn’t think they do. He’s never told them.

It’s busy enough in the store that Steve’s pretty sure he can sneak away before Eddie sees him. He starts to back away, but immediately bumps into an old woman.

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?” He’s asking, and she’s brushing him off and saying she’s fine. He feels terrible.

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice is like music, always has been a melody made specifically for Steve.

“Eddie,” Steve says as the old woman walks away. “Hey.”

Steve forgets he’s in public as the world around him fades and all he sees, smells, wants, is Eddie.

“I didn’t know you were still in Hawkins,” Eddie says quietly, leaning forward on his toes. He’s got a new battle vest, though it looks well-worn. Steve wonders if he knows that his old vest is hanging in his closet, if he knows that Steve pulls it out every once in a while so he can put it on and feel a little less alone.

“Yeah. Never left.” It sounds worse than it is. Steve always said he’d leave when all the kids left, but once they did, he didn’t know where to go. It’s not like he could follow them around, couch-surfing across the country a month or two at a time, burdening them with his self-imposed loneliness.

“You look good,” Eddie says, changing the subject.

Leaving Hawkins was a touchy subject for Steve the last time he’d seen Eddie. It still is. Eddie must sense that.

“So do you,” Steve breathes out. He does. He looks healthy and happy, something Hawkins had completely drained from him before. “What are you doing back?”

“Just visiting Wayne. Usually he comes to see me, but he insisted he didn’t wanna deal with the ‘big city’ this time. And I’m the best nephew, so I said ‘sure, old man, I’ll go back to the town that hates my guts!’ And here I am trying to find my favorite ice cream at the store. They don’t have it,” Eddie shrugs. He rambles when he’s nervous, still. “He hasn’t mentioned seeing you around or anything, though.”

“Yeah, I guess we don’t cross paths much,” Steve laughs awkwardly. He can’t remember the last time he saw Wayne. Must’ve been around Christmas, when Steve was helping Joyce with her decorations while Hopper worked overtime and Wayne stopped by to drop off some lights. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s good. Stubborn as hell. Won’t retire even though he could,” Eddie shakes his head. “Think he’s scared of being bored.”

“Or lonely.”

The words escape Steve before he can hold them back.

Eddie’s face softens, but it’s not full of pity. Everyone always gives Steve this look, like they know he’s putting on a brave face. Not Eddie.

“Wayne’s always been content alone. He’s got friends, and he calls me when he has something new to argue about,” Eddie leans in closer. “I don’t really worry about Wayne. Other people, sure.”

“Like who?” Steve swallows.

“You settle down yet?” Eddie asks in response.

Steve’s so shocked by the question, he doesn’t answer.

“I figured the kids were just being nice by not telling me if you did, but you’re not wearing a ring and you’re grocery shopping alone, so…” Eddie rambles again. Steve feels his heart flutter in his chest.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Are you dating someone?”

Steve shakes his head. “Haven’t really found anyone interesting.”

“Interesting? Since when does Steve Harrington want someone interesting?”

Since the most interesting person he knows kissed him and then left. Since everyone else is boring in comparison to you. Since he realized he was dumb to let you go.

“I guess what I thought I wanted is different now. Has been for a while,” Steve shrugs.

It’s strange how easily Steve becomes wrapped up in Eddie’s orbit, how quickly everything else didn’t matter the moment Eddie started talking to him. It’s just the two of them.

“Excuse me,” a man says to their left. Steve jumps back and apologizes for blocking where he needed to be. Eddie’s eyes never leave Steve.

When the man walks away, Steve clears his throat.

“How long are you in town?”

“How long will it take me to convince you to come back with me?”

Steve chokes on his next breath. “What? Come back with you? To…”

“New York or Chicago. I’m getting a promotion and they’ll let me pick where I wanna go. I’ve been leaning towards Chicago because more of the music I enjoy is making a mark there,” Eddie explains. “And there’s plenty of options for you there, too. Dustin said you just finished your teaching degree.”

“Dustin talks about me?”

“Only when unprovoked,” Eddie grins. “Have you been waiting for me?”

It’s blunt, but Eddie always has been. Steve can hide a lot of emotions from people; It’s been a survival tactic for most of his life.

He’s never been able to hide shit from Eddie.

“Not on purpose.”

Eddie looks at his basket of items. He was really only here for a few things, but he saw his favorite cookies were on sale and he couldn’t resist stocking up. He looks between the basket and Eddie’s eyes.

“You wanna come to mine for dinner?”

“Is dinner cookies?” Eddie laughs, poking at the package closest to the top.

“That’s dessert,” Steve laughs, too. He finds it easy. He never thought it could be this easy after the time that’s passed, the distance they had between them.

“First dessert.”

“What are we, hobbits?” Steve asks.

Eddie’s jaw drops open. “Steve, please. Not in public.”

“What?”

“I didn’t know you read it!” Eddie groans, but he’s smiling, so Steve’s not actually worried.

“I’ve read a lot of things! I’ve been waiting for you, remember?”

An announcement starts in the store— someone’s car is blocking a delivery truck entrance— and they both take a step away from each other. They were much closer than they should be in the grocery store.

This is still Hawkins, and people already don’t like Eddie. Looking cozier than two dudes normally would might be dangerous for both of them.

“So. Dinner?” Steve asks again. It’s easier to remember there are other people around with some distance between them.

“Sure. Dinner.”

Time starts again.

[yungbludz]

fire on the court — bs

SUMMARY: when your archenemy happens to be your mixed-doubles partner things get heated pretty quickly…

WARNINGS: smut

@brennendeerinnerungen

“Ben, Y/N: congratulations to both of you! How does it feel to be into the round of sixteen?” The US Open interviewer comes up to you two and tilts her microphone so that you can give your answers. You’re still running out of breath so Ben takes the first question.

“It feels great. I wouldn’t saw we didn’t expect but yeah, I didn’t know how far we would go,” he replies with his biggest grin ever. You nod agreeing with him. The home crowd is cheering the two of you on, predictably since you are playing in your home country but it still feels nice.

“You said you didn’t know Ben personally until this year at Roland Garros, how did you guys find such good chemistry on court?” She asks you pointing her microphone at you. You glance at your mixed doubles partner and he is already grinning at you. It’s not quite a smile though, it’s more like a smug.

“True. Ben and I had never interacted before Paris. I guess tennis connected us,” I remain vague because I might not want let the others in our complicated relationship but I also don’t want to lie and say we are best buddies when we hate each other’s guts.

“When did you guys start training together?” She asks Ben this time. The American grins at her and shoots me a glance before answering.

“After Wimbledon I’d say. Our teams arranged a schedule for our joined practices and the rest is history,”

I still remember those hot late afternoons spent on the hard court with Ben and our teams. Sometimes we would stay ‘till the sun set down. Not because we were that fond of each other but because we would push each other to the limit out of spite.

I remember Ben changing at least twice during practice because he would get as sweat as he would during matches. I also remember my sore muscles after the first days. I remember the feeling of having to prove myself as the better player, the need to shine brighter, the hunger to beat him even if we were on the same team.

I remember when once he tried to fix my serve. I let him because as much as I might not love him, I do realize he has a good serve. I remember the feeling of his body behind mine, every inch of him pressed against me. I remember his uneven breathing down my neck. I remember his hands over mine. I remember when I bent down to serve and he followed me. I remember the compromising position. I remember my skin burning and my cheeks reddening. I remember him clearing his throat and taking a few steps back. I remember it all too well…

“Well, congratulations guys! And good luck for next round. A round of applause for our dream team!”

I wave at the cheering crowd as we both head back inside. Ben follows me but I pay him no mind. I know our families are waiting for us outside, next to the press conference room. We also both have interviews to attend. The women’s locker room is right next to the men’s and that’s where our paths split. Thanks to God.

But a hand stops me from opening the door and I am slightly pulled back.

“Aren’t you going to thank me for those saved match points?” I should have known better than to not expect some teasing from him. Ben stares down at me with that shit eating grin that has now become his signature smile. I clench my jaw and sigh.

“I saved us from two break points but you don’t see me being a pain in the ass about it, do you?” I remind him and he chuckles. He can’t be real. The audacity he exudes. Ben has his arms crossed over his chest and I am free to go now.

“You’re always a pain in the ass,” he says to which I snort because really? He is the one speaking? I am yet to meet a more annoying player. He is so arrogant and irritating I cannot stand his presence for more than a match.

“What is it, Shelton? You want me to praise you? Boost your huge ego a little more? What’s next? Would you like for me to suck your dick too?” My words are crude but I have learned that being “ladylike” won’t get me anywhere, especially with men. Ben is surprised by my choice of words and he chuckles again.

“I mean I wouldn’t mind it,” before I can slap the shit out of his stupid face I turn around and flip him off, heading straight into the locker room. I can hear his laughter from inside. He is so irritating I wish he could just disappear. We might work on court but when the lights are off and we are behind closed doors I cannot stand his stupid face. I just have to endure his annoying behavior until the end of the tournament then we will go back to seeing each other as little as possible.

A few days go by before our next match together. I also play in the singles and try to find the right balance between all these matches. So far I have managed to get through to the Round of 16 but as the level of tennis rises, I know it will get harder and harder.

When I see Ben I am already in the tunnel, waiting for our names to be called to get out there and play our best tennis. He is wearing this white and pink kit and his usual headphones are over his ears, meaning that at least until the match is over he won’t be a pain in the ass. I stretch in the meantime, trying to loosen up and lock in.

“Y/N Y/L/N and Ben Shelton!”

We walk in sync towards the court and we are immediately met by the warm welcoming cheers from the American crowd. I wave at them as I put my bag down. We both do our usual routines: get the wristband out, grab the racket, fix the towels. I keep thinking about how the match can turn out, trying to remember our opponents’ flaws and strengths, how we can use them at our advantage.

At the coin toss Ben decides to serve first, taking advantage of one of our main strengths. I bend down next to the net and take a deep breath as the curly haired prepares to serve. It’s game on.

One hour and fifty minutes later we are shaking Paula Badosa and Stefanos Tsitsipas’ hands at the net: we have won. The crowd’s support has played a huge role in this successful win. We were risking losing one set at one point but they kept cheering us on and with my dropshots and Ben’s serve we managed to get through it.

“Congratulations to our dream team. How does it feel to know you’re the most powerful doubles couple in the tournament?” The interviewer asks us. I am tapping the towel over my sweaty skin as Ben takes the question. He is dripping in sweat but it is no surprise.

“Well, it’s an honor to play in front of our people. We can’t let them down, can we?” He shoots me a grin that almost doesn’t look like a smirk. Almost.

“Y/N, you come back out here after a two hours and a half long match against one of the best players in the WTA, Elena Rybakina. How tired are you?” She asks me and hands me the microphone.

“Pretty tired to be honest— I crack a smile and the crowd laughs— Well, I knew it wasn’t going to be easy today. We played two great players and, as you said, I come from a tough match against Elena so I wasn’t expecting too much from today but of course I am really pleased with the result,” I chuckle. All I can think about is the cold shower I am going to take once I am out of here. Thankfully, the interview quickly ends with a question for the both of us.

“Are you going to take this home?” Ben shoots me a quick glance with a knowing and teasing smile before speaking into the mic.

“Of course,”

As soon as I am off the court I attempt to sneak towards the showers but my team forces me to the bicycle for at least ten minutes and, as much as I want to simply let the jet of cold water drown me, I do know it is for the best so I sit there and endure a little more of physical exercise.

Ben is a few bicycles away from me, speaking to his dad and his team. This time we barely even said a word to each other after the match and I want to keep it that way. I am way too exhausted to even fight. Plus, I can be civil and this clearly shows that he is the one always trying to start shit because I never—

“Hey Y/N, great match,” a sudden voice snaps me out of my trail of thoughts. I look up and spot none other than the mighty Carlos Alcaraz, standing there in his black Nike kit, probably ready to play the next match.

“Oh hey Carlos, thanks,” I don’t really know what to say. I don’t think I have even spoken a word to him in the three years that I have been in the tournament. I remember when I was younger, perhaps fourteen, and I started going around Europe to play I used to see him a lot. My dad was really fond of his tennis and said that he would achieve great things. I guess he was right.

“I saw you yesterday. I really like how you play. You got a good backhand, maybe I could learn a thing or two from you,” he jokes, scratching the back of his head. Carlos Alcaraz likes my backhand?

“Oh thank you. I don’t think I have anything to teach you. If anything I would love to take your forehand,” I giggle embarrassed. I don’t know what to do or say. He is standing there, looking at me while I probably look my worst.

“I could let you in on some secrets one of these days. Maybe we could practice together, what do you say?” He asks tilting his head to the side. Oh, his eyes are really pretty. Oh, fuck me. I mean, not fuck me.

“Yeah sure, I’d love to,” I quickly reply before making a fool out of myself. Carlos pulls out his phone and hands me it to me.

“Just put your phone number in it. I’ll text you after this,” he shoots me a smile as I grab his phone with shaky hands. I am glad I am probably already red due to the physical strain because I can feel my cheeks heat up under his gaze. Is Carlos Alcaraz flirting with me? Or is he just being nice?

“See you later,” he shoots me a wink and walks off to court. I stare at the wall as I replay our conversation over and over again like a broken record.

What the fuck?

My team looks at me trying to hide their smirks but I can hear them giggle.

“Somebody’s got an admirer,” my coach teases me and I attempt to brush it off as nothing but I can’t help but grin at the thought of Carlos thinking I play a good tennis. Embarrassing, right?

“He was just being polite,” I shrug my shoulders as I slow down. Finally shower time.

“I didn’t see him being polite to Ben and he played too,” my trainer says and my immediate reaction is to shoot the American a glance. He is getting off the bicycle and grabbing his bag. As he stands back up our eyes meet but this time he is the one giving me one of his nasty looks. I don’t know Ben very well but I do know he has a resting bitch face. However, this seemed intentional. Well, after all we do hate each other’s guts so it is nothing new.

“I’m going to shower, see you in a bit,”

To: Ben

Are you coming?

The match is in 10 minutes

Ben

Where the fuck are you?

I know Ben is a lot of things but he is not a latecomer. He is usually on time but today he is nowhere to be seen. I am standing here in the gym, stretching out with my team and looking around hoping to spot his curly head. Today, we are going to play an even tougher pairing and I really need him to show up soon.

“Have you called him?” My coach asks and I nod. Ten missed calls and countless texts. I might start to worry something bad happened. As if I didn’t have enough to worry about now Ben is playing the diva who shows up late.

“Have you seen his dad?” I ask my team but they shrug their shoulders. Every time I see Ben, his dad is usually around and today I don’t see either of them.

“Shit,”

“Y/N?” I turn around in the hopes that it is Ben but I am faced with a Spaniard: Carlos.

“Hey,” I smile at him politely. He is just coming off court, probably having won the umpteenth match of his career.

“Are you okay? I wanted to wish you good luck but you look stressed,” he clocks immediately my furrowed brows and clenched jaw.

“Yeah yeah, I am just— I don’t know where Ben is,” I confess scanning the room all over again with my eyes. Eight minutes until the start of the match.

“Oh I see. I am sure he is just late,” he tries to reassure me but I am too distressed and distracted to pay his words any attention. Then Carlos steps in front of me and takes me by surprise by gently holding my arms.

“You’ll do great, okay? Don’t worry. And if you don’t, well you can blame me for bringing bad luck,” I chuckle at his words and shake my head. I still don’t know why he is so kind and sweet to me but it feels nice. Maybe I am just overthinking it. Carlos caresses my arms and tells me a few more words of encouragement.

“He’s here,”

I look over Carlos’ shoulder to spot Ben. He is running out of breath, stretching his arms and legs and glaring at me. Nothing new. Carlos notices his presence too and, after wishing us both luck, he leaves us to it. I walk closer to him, crossing my arms over my chest and fighting the urge to hit him with something that will crack his thick skull open.

“You’re lucky we have to go. I am making you pay for this after the match, Shelton,” I threaten him pointing a finger at his broad chest. Ben looks down at me and scoffs. I don’t want to pick a fight right before our game. I need to be calm and focused. He won’t ruin this for me. I won’t let him.

Court 1 has never looked this big and crowded. I think every seat has been booked. The cheering coming from every corner of the court makes me feel so small compared to the crowd. Ben overtakes me and immediately puts his bag down by the bench. I breathe in and out. I can do it.

At the coin toss we shake hands with our opponents, wishing them good luck. I sense a shift in Ben’s attitude but I don’t think too much of it. He has always been very weird to me so I shouldn’t be too surprised. Our opponents have won at the coin toss and decided to serve first so I stay close to the net, ready for the game to start. It’s show time.

“Set Errani Vavassori,”

We have lost the first set 6-3. There is no coordination in our movements. I can’t feel the ball and I can’t even feel Ben. Usually when we are on court there is this unspoken chemistry that makes us move almost in sync but not today. He doesn’t even spare me a glance when he goes for the ball. We have risked hitting each other multiple times and he doesn’t even apologize.

“Ben, what’s wrong? We can’t lose this,” I try to talk to him but he simply grunts and shrugs his shoulders as he sips on his water. He is getting on my last nerve.

“Get your shit together or—“

“Or what?” He snaps at me. His brown eyes have never looked darker and angrier. What is up with him? Did something happen before the match? Is he mad at me? I can’t understand what changed in the span of two days when we barely spoke to each other.

“Players,” the umpire grabs our attention. We have been sitting here looking daggers at each other for a whole minute. I stand up and roll my eyes while I head towards the ball boy. I am serving.

Ben takes his position at the net. I don’t think he has underestimated Errani and Vavassori but I cannot figure out why he has been underplaying. Is something on his mind? I mean, we bicker all the time but I am usually the one who gets annoyed at him. Not the other way around.

“Advantage Shelton Y/L/N,”

This set seems to be a luckier one for us. Ben isn’t playing well but he has fixed some of his shots and it makes us able to gain an advantage on the other doubles duo. At least his serve is as deadly as always, serving a lot of aces and not allowing them to get into the game and play.

“Game Shelton Y/L/N,”

We are on match point. Ben is serving. If we win this, we are back in the game. We have a chance of taking this home and getting a place into the semi’s. I crouch down and wait for the sound of his racket hitting the ball.

“Out,”

Second serve.

I shoot Ben a glance but he is not paying me attention. Understandable for someone who is serving a match point. I look ahead and stay focused.

“Out,”

Fuck. Not a double fault now.

I sigh and try to not show my anxiety to Ben. I know it is hard enough to mess up. I look over my shoulder and see him shaking his head as he takes the balls from the ball kids. I would like to know what goes through his mind right now. I wish there was something I could say to calm him down. But I know that if I even dare to look at him for more than a second, it will only make things worse.

I can hear the ball bounce five times and then I see it hit the other court. It’s in.

Vavassori goes for a powerful backhand that ends on Ben’s side of the court. He quickly replies with a forehand. The ball bounces on the other side of the court, painting the line but the Italian is ready and answers with a quick backhand again. I follow the ball with my eyes and the trajectory makes it land on my side of the court, I go for it, preparing my backhand when suddenly I am stopped in my tracks by a bigger force.

Then it all happens so quickly. I fall backwards, landing on my right arm while trying to not lose my balance. A loud scream is heard in the silence of the stadium. A sudden pain irradiates from my elbow to my shoulder and I curl into a ball, weeping in pain. I cannot focus on anything else that isn’t the nagging ache in my arm. Is it broken?

“Y/N,” I can hear an unknown voice talk to me. When I finally open my eyes and take a look at my surroundings I notice the physiotherapist sitting by my side, trying to figure out what is wrong and Ben crouched down next to me. He looks worried.

“Is she okay? Is her arm okay?” He keeps asking over and over again. I don’t think he has ever looked this concerned. But I cannot focus on him as the physiotherapist tries to move my arm but I let out a death rattle at the sudden touch.

“Can’t you give her something for the pain?” I hear Ben ask.

“Y/N, I am going to apply some numbing cream and tape your arm. You let me know if you can move it. Unfortunately the medical timeout won’t allow us to fix the problem or see how much damage there is so you must consider if continuing to play is the best decision for you and your arm,” the physiotherapist explains as I feel a cold substance touch my upper arm. I nod, clenching my jaw. In the process I can hear Ben mumble something under his breath.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” uh? What is he talking about? I look at him. His furrowed brows and teary eyes confused me even further. Why is he so upset about? And why is he apologizing?

“The crash and the fall were pretty serious,” the physiotherapist explains but the puzzled expression doesn’t seem to be leaving my face.

“Don’t you remember? Have you hit your head too?” She asks me now focusing on my head.

“No…” I finally speak up. The pain in my arm is still nagging me but it has subsided. What is going on?

Ben bites his bottom lip as he glances at the physio and then back at me.

“Ben clashed into you and you fell,” Silence follows her words as I take them in.

So it is his fault. He made me fall. He pushed me down and almost broke my arm. I stay silent as she helps back on my feet. My arm is sore but the cream is slowly working. The ache is fading and I don’t know if it is thanks to the ointment or the ferocious anger that is boiling in my veins.

“Y/N, I—“ “Shut up,” I silence him immediately. I don’t want to hear another word coming from him. I try to test my arm and see if I can move it around and essentially play with it. It still hurts a little but the adrenaline and the cream are probably helping me with the pain. I nod at the umpire who is waiting for the okay to resume the match.

As I take my position back in front of the net I am blinded by anger. Anger that drives me to give my best on court. We manage to win the set eventually and the next one starts with us serving. The minutes in between sets Ben attempts to talk to me but I take the break to go to the bathroom.

The following set we both play much better. Ben improves his shots and doesn’t try to hit the balls that are in my side of the court. The medical timeout must have taken a toll on our opponents because their attention and tennis level drop. I sense a little of pain in my arm but try to not force it too much.

“Game, set and match Shelton Y/L/N,”

When I was a little kid I remember I had problems managing my anger. Especially on court. That is what led my parents to seek help from a therapist. Although in the beginning I felt as if she was invading my privacy, I soon realized she was actually helping me learn how to handle my emotions and calm down. Her techniques helped me throughout the years when I was playing and it allowed me to reach higher levels.

Nevertheless, right now I do not want to calm down. I do not want to be mature about it. I do not want to be the bigger person. I want to sit here on the medical centre’s bed staring at the wall and letting the rage consume me.

“Y/N,”

Ben Shelton stands on the threshold of the door. Speaking of the devil…

“Came to finish what you started?” I reply with words full of venom. The American walks closer to me with his tail tucked between his legs. He is feeling guilty. Good.

“What did they say? Is it bad?” He asks concerned. I don’t want his concern right now. I want him to pay for what he did.

“How about you start telling me what the fuck was that about? You know I always got my side of the court covered so why the fuck would you go for a ball that wasn’t even yours?” I turn around to face him fully. My arm is perfectly and meticulously wrapped up in with gauzes and I am waiting for a doctor to bring in the news. Ben tries to avoid my gaze but I will get an answer out of him, whether he likes it or not.

“I got distracted,” his excuse is weak and it only infuriates me even more.

“Distracted by what? A butterfly? Be fucking for real, Ben. You wanted me to get hurt? You hate me this much?” I insist taunting him. His eyes widen and he shakes his head in disbelief. As if it was an absurdity to think he hates my guts. As if he hasn’t made it very clear on multiple occasions.

“I would never. Why would you even think that?” He is offended. The poor guy with both of his arms intact is offended that I would ever assume his hatred for me is bigger than expected.

“Oh I don’t know. Maybe because you have been a fucking nightmare to play with? Or maybe because you are fucking annoying all the time? Or maybe because you showed up late to our match and proceeded to glare at me the whole time like I fucking murdered your whole family tree?” I almost yell at him, vomiting all the things I have been wanting to tell him for weeks. Ben stares at me in bewilderment and his surprise only enrages me even more. How can he not see the way he treats me? How can he not acknowledge it when it is so clear?

“I don’t want to see your fucking face ever again and I don’t want to play with you anymore,” the lack of answer from his side pushes me to get meaner and angrier. I shouldn’t let my emotions control me so much but I cannot filter myself when he stands here looking so shocked.

“Why? We’re the perfect match!”

“Are you for real? That fall could have costed me my career. I can’t play with someone who would throw me under the bus just because their girlfriend broke up with them the day before,” Ben scoffs at my accusations. He scoffs. Violence is never the way to do things but he is making me question all my morals.

“You’re exaggerating,” if looks could kill, Ben would be dead by now. I can feel my blood boil at his words and I am clenching my jaw so hard it might snap.

“I am exaggerating?“ I repeat his statement back to him and I can see the regret in his eyes. It is too late now though. He can’t take it back anymore. A hundred of scenarios play in my head where I get my deserved revenge.

“Listen, I am sorry. I just let my emotions get the best of me,”

“That’s it? You let your emotions get the best of you? You’re unbelievable, Ben,” I scoff. I don’t know how he does it but he always manages to get on my last nerve. I cannot believe him. Ben clenches his jaw and breathes in.

“Don’t act so mighty now. You have been distracted ever since Carlos talked to you,”

Uh? What?

I stare at him for a whole minute without uttering a word, just trying to piece together his words. What is he implying?

“I haven’t been distracted at all. What do you know about Carlos and me anyway? That’s none of your fucking business,” I point a finger at him. Is he really going to stick his nose in my business? Really? Since when is he so interested in what I do and whom I speak to?

“Yeah sure. If you weren’t so busy trying to impress him, maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation,” he has to be kidding. He did not just say what I heard. I must be hallucinating.

“What the fuck did you just say?” I need him to say it again. To be sure I am hearing him right. Ben looks at me uncertain. My head is starting to hurt. All this fighting is getting us nowhere but I will not let him get away with it. He is just a spoiled prick who thinks he is entitled to everything just because he knows how to play tennis.

“Doesn’t matter,” he mutters before turning around and trying to leave the room. He knows that what he said will only worsen things between us and I know I should calm down but I cannot.

“Well maybe I will ask Carlos to play mixed doubles next time. At least he won’t let his emotions get the best of him,” I am just asking for it at this point. I want him to get angry, as mad as I am. Ben stops in his tracks, his back still facing me. We stay quiet for a moment and I almost think he is going to let that go.

Then he turns around, walks those few feet that separate us and looks down at me. The height difference is evident. His brown eyes have never looked this dark and intimidating but I don’t budge. He doesn’t scare me.

“What? Did I offend Benny boy? Poor thing, he doesn’t—“

“Shut the fuck up,” he cuts me off harshly. He has never treated me this way which tells me I have hit the right button. A smirk spreads on my face.

“Or what?” Is his last straw. I can feel his breath on my face and I can see every little detail of his face up close before he erases the distance between us. Unexpectedly his lips are on mine. What? I am obviously caught off guard by his actions and by the force of his kiss. But I am even more surprised by my own reaction when I don’t push him off. Matter of fact I kiss him back.

I can feel Ben smirk against my lips as his hands grip my waist and neck, making sure I know he is not going to go easy on me. Not that he has ever done that. Just like every other dynamic between us, the kiss is rough and fast. Soon we end up panting in each other’s mouths, running out of breath. He shifts his weight forward and pushes me on the bed. His hand on my neck applies more pressure and forces me to tilt my head back.

“You get on my last nerve for fuck sake,” he mutters through gritted teeth. I grin proudly. His other hand squeezes my waist before dropping to my parted thighs, squeezing the bare skin. We keep on kissing like we didn’t swear to hate each other’s guts up until two minutes ago.

Ben’s touch burns my skin as if his hands weren’t supposed to touch me. I can feel his short nails dig into my flesh but it doesn’t hurt, it ignites something so primal inside of me. My legs pull him closer, closing the minimum distance.

“Yeah? Or are you just jealous of Carlos?” I tease him when he pulls away. He stares down at me, my head still tilted back by his large hand. He smirks and clicks his tongue against his palate.

“Jealous? Last time I checked I am the one kissing you right now, not him,” he is not wrong.

I slip my hands from his hair to his shoulders, feeling the tensed muscles beneath his skin, then his hard chest and abs until I reach for the waistband of his joggers. I never take my eyes off his, searching for a sign of discomfort in his gaze but he only spurs me on.

“Kissing? Is that all we are doing here?” I mumble testing the waters. Ben doesn’t flinch or back down, he leans in closer.

“We can do a lot more than just that, baby,” he mutters with his usual shit eating grin. My fingers dance across the waistband of his underwear, caressing the skin.

“What if someone walks in?”

“Bet you’d like it even more,”

Touché.

Before I can add anything else, Ben crashes his lips against mine. We both know we don’t have time and we are risking a lot but neither of us wants to stop now. His hands move from my thighs to my shorts while I let the waistband slap against the skin of his lower stomach.

“No teasing now,” he grunts against my lips while his fingers tug at my shorts. I chuckle and help him out. I sit there in my top and my panties, legs locked around his waist while he kisses me again. Ben’s kisses are sloppy and needy. He tastes like something I shouldn’t know the taste of. Something forbidden.

“Fuck,” he curses when I lower his joggers and reach for his underwear.

“Don’t have time, Ben,” I remind him when he is going too slow. He chuckles and nods, spreading my legs to move my panties to the side. He doesn’t even try to hide his blunt staring.

“I have wanted to eat it for months. Guess I’ll have to wait just a little more,” he confesses and I can feel heat rushing to my core. The image of him on his knees for me, my legs over his shoulders while his face is smothered between my legs makes my insides twist. I lick my lips and eagerly pull his underwear down.

“By the looks of it you have been dying to suck it too,” he teases me. I am no better than him. My eyes are glued to his cock, standing erect against his lower stomach. He wraps his hand around it, giving it a few strokes while I wait.

“I have heard I give a pretty good head,” I joke while he teases my entrance with his tip. His forehead is pressed against mine. The tension in the room is so thick, we would both do anything to ease it.

“Yeah? Says who?” He tries to mock me but he should know better than that.

“Carlos,” I half choke on my answer as he thrusts in. Ben’s smile fades and turns into a frown.

“Guess I’ll have to fuck his name out of you,” he mutters while I hold onto his broad shoulders. My mouth drops open when he starts moving. He is thick, thicker than I have had recently. Every time he pulls out and thrusts back in I feel fuller and fuller. My legs shake due to the unexpected strain and pleasure.

When he notices I haven’t dished him any other snarky comments, his grin comes back on his lips.

“Can’t talk anymore? I thought you could take it, doll,” his annoying comments are much more bearable when his cock is stuffed inside of me. I gulp and try to glare at him but his hips set a brutal pace that doesn’t allow me to mask my overwhelming blissfulness.

One of his hands rests on my hips, angling me perfectly so that I can feel all of him while the other stays on the bed for leverage. The bed squeaks beneath our weights but neither of us pays it any attention. A nurse or a doctor could walk in any moment yet we are too focused on our own pleasure to care. If this was to come out, we would be publicly shamed but I don’t seem to have a care in the world when I can hear Ben moan next to my ear.

“Is this what you wanted all along? For me to fuck you nice and good? Because I did. I have wanted to feel you the second I saw you. I have dreamed of how you’d feel for months, of how you’d take it, of what you’d look like while I’d fuck you. My imagination doesn’t even come close to the reality though,” the brunette confesses in a moment of weakness. Any other moment I would use his own words against him but right now I am not in the right mental state to say anything other than his name over and over again.

“Does it feel good, baby?” His voice is hoarse and I can tell he is struggling. My walls wrap him and clench around him harder than I would want to. I know neither of us is going to last.

“Yes,” I gasp when he grabs me by the ass and pulls me closer. I inevitably fall a little back, resting on my forearms while he takes full control. His hands hold onto my waist tightly while he fucks into me. I can see his furrowed brows, agape mouth and abs contracting with every thrust.

“Ben,” I call his name to get his attention. The American looks up at me. There is a look in his eyes I have never seen before. It is the look of desperation. It is as if his prick facade dropped because now he is just too deep in to pretend to be the tough guy. Who would have known…

“I am not going to last if you look at me like that,” he warns me way too seriously. I grin and make it my mission to make this harder for him by slipping my hand between my legs. Ben’s eyes follow my every movement until I reach my clit and start to toy with it. Soon I hear this deep grunt coming out of his mouth.

“Y/N, please,” he warns me again. I guess Ben is one of those guys who lose their minds when the girl touches herself in front of them. I tilt my head to the side and keep going. The stimulation combined with his thrusts make it also harder for me to not get closer to my orgasm.

“Fuck,”

“Shit shit,”

“Keep going,” I beg when I start to feel myself teetering over. Ben clenches his jaw and takes in a deep breath. He looks way too good all sweaty and needy for me.

“You’re gonna kill me,” is the last coherent sentence I hear coming from him before we both reach our highs, almost at the same time. I roll my eyes back while Ben lean forward, almost collapsing on top of me. The room is filled with curses and the smell of sex.

Not a single word comes out of our mouths as we come down. Ben lays on top of me for a moment, his head in the crook of my neck while I caress his hair. He is the one to break the silence first.

“Next time they ask us about our chemistry on court I am telling them it is thanks to the nasty sex we just had here,”

[edensvessel]

The Impact of Islam on Paganism (and Why That Still Matters Today)

So as a lot of my followers may or may not know, I am ex-Muslim. I was raised in a comparatively lax (though still extremely conservative) Muslim family and was made to start reading the Qur’an as early as I started reading English, and made to start memorizing the prayers just as early.

One thing that’s prevalent in Islam is the stories of Muhammad’s life. And during his life, specifically his youth, he grew up during a time when Paganism was very prevalent in Arabia. I always see posts about Christianity's influence on paganism, so I figured it would be a nice change of pace to hear from someone that has a different experience. Especially considering Islam historically has done a lot more damage to paganism than any other of the "Big Three" in my opinion, for reasons we'll see later.

NOTE: Most things we know about this specific patch of history come from Islamic sources, some directly from the Qur'an itself, so take everything with a river of salt.

NOTE 2: THIS IS NOT AN ANTI ISLAM POST. THIS IS PURELY FOR EDUCATIONAL PURPOSES. ISLAMOPHOBES ARE NOT WELCOME HERE.

Before Islam, much of the Arabian Peninsula was polytheistic. People worshipped a variety of gods and goddesses tied to tribes, natural elements, and celestial bodies. The Kaaba itself, now the holiest site in Islam, was once a shrine that held numerous idols representing different deities. This pre-Islamic era is often referred to in Islamic texts as Jahiliyyah, meaning the "age of ignorance."

In Islam, there is only one sin that is genuinely irredeemable in the eyes of Allah. It's called shirk, and it refers to "associating partners with Allah". Many in the modern day take this to mean worshipping a god that is not Allah, but when we look at the historical context, things change. See, in the Kaaba, one of the gods worshipped was Al-Lat, who was a goddess worshipped by the Quraish tribe (a tribe who basically served as the villains of Muhammad's life). It's believed that Al-Lat and Her sisters were daughters of Allah, and thus, worshipped alongside him. This is where that particular phrasing comes from; others quite literally worshipping Allah alongside other gods.

Islamic teachings later framed these polytheistic practices as misguided or demonic, and many of those practices were systematically dismantled as Islam spread. This erasure wasn’t just spiritual, it was political and cultural. Many polytheist traditions were destroyed, and over time, the idea that polytheism was inherently evil became deeply ingrained in many Islamic teachings.

In fact, the Qur'an directly calls the polytheists of pre-Islamic Arabia pagan, as an insult. It is still used as an insult today in many Islamic countries, though I can only really speak for the one I used to live in so take that with a grain of salt.

That anti-pagan sentiment didn’t stay in the past. It’s alive and well today, not just in Muslim-majority societies, but even in ex-Muslim and secular communities where Islam's historical influence still lingers. For many Muslims and ex-Muslims alike, the word “pagan” is still deeply stigmatized. It’s associated with devil-worship (in the stigmatized way, my demonolatry friends), chaos, and moral depravity. Not because of anything inherently wrong with paganism, but because that’s how it was framed for centuries.

Even when people leave Islam, those inherited fears and associations don’t just vanish. If you were taught from early childhood that polytheism is evil, it’s not easy to deconstruct that belief, even if you stop identifying as Muslim. This contributes to internalized stigma for those who explore or convert to Paganism later in life.

It’s also worth noting that Islam isn’t the only "Big Three" religion that demonized Paganism, Christianity and Judaism have their own long histories of doing the same. But Islam’s specific influence on North African, Middle Eastern, and South Asian cultures means that in many parts of the world, “pagan” is still a dirty word.

In some countries, even being accused of “witchcraft” (a concept that overlaps heavily with modern pagan practice) can be grounds for legal punishment or even violence. This isn't just about faith. It's about state power, colonial legacy, and institutional control over spirituality.

And yet. They survive.

Interestingly, not all of those ancient beliefs were wiped out. In places like Sudan, Iran, Pakistan, and Turkey, you can still find folk practices that trace back to pre-Islamic spirituality. Sometimes these practices are “Islamicized” (e.g., calling a spirit a jinn instead of a god), and sometimes they’re practiced quietly, under the radar.

Examples include:

Zār spirit possession rituals in East Africa and parts of the Middle East

Nowruz, the Persian New Year, which has Zoroastrian roots but is still celebrated widely

Sufi mysticism, which often incorporates music, poetry, and ecstatic rituals that feel more aligned with animist and shamanic traditions than orthodox Islam

For modern Pagans (especially those coming from Muslim backgrounds) it can be hard to fully embrace Paganism without guilt, fear, or social consequences. But understanding why that stigma exists is part of the healing process.

Islam, like all religions, is shaped by its context. It developed in a time of rapid cultural change, political consolidation, and theological urgency. Its opposition to Paganism was part of a larger project of unification. One that worked for many people, but also suppressed other spiritual paths.

If you’re a modern Pagan, especially one from a Muslim background, you are not regressing. You’re not betraying your roots. You are choosing a spiritual path that makes sense for you, and you are also part of a much longer tradition than many people realize. One that predates Islam and Christianity, and that has always, in some form, resisted erasure.

Sources & Further Reading:

Hawting, G. R. (1999). The Idea of Idolatry and the Emergence of Islam: From Polemic to History. Cambridge University Press.

Shahid, Irfan. “Pre-Islamic Arabia.” In The Cambridge History of Islam, vol. 1.

Amira El-Zein (2009). Islam, Arabs, and the Intelligent World of the Jinn. Syracuse University Press.

Sa'diyya Shaikh (2012). Sufi Narratives of Intimacy: Ibn 'Arabi, Gender, and Sexuality. University of North Carolina Press.

Sabrina Peric (2015). “From Spirits to Science: Exploring the Jinn in Contemporary Muslim Contexts.” Comparative Islamic Studies.

[aliesbienish]

A study of wolves

Paul Lahote x Reader.

A relocation to La Push brings more than just a new career.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A rare sunny day was surely a good omen. You read that North West Washington state had one of the wettest climates in the country, so pulling into La Push with clear skies and warm sun rays was surely a positive sign. It was nice to finally be here, out of the bustling city and into an area of lush green trees and isolated beaches.

Deciding to apply for the graduate internship across the country was spur of the moment. Sure getting paid to complete ecological surveys of the areas wolf populations was a dream job, but you had no expectations of getting it and therefore no reason to believe you would be packing up your life. Yet two weeks ago that unrealistic dream suddenly became reality. So here you were in a small reservation town with all your belongings stuffed into the boot of your car feeling for the first time like a proper adult.

You had managed to find your way to a small wooden cabin on the outskirts of town, your home for the duration of this project. You had detoured to Seattle a few days previously to meet your new supervisor and to get training on the process, but otherwise you were pretty much autonomous. You were the only one from national parks stationed in the area, but the local La Push council were kind enough to support you during this project. They had approved use of their cabin, and negotiated to have a council member with you during work in the field. This you were rather thankful for, knowing that managing to get lost and costing the parks department money to send out a rescue wouldn’t be a good look for your career.

Stepping out of the car, and taking a big stretch, you turned around to see two men waiting on the cabins porch.

“You must be [y/n], welcome to La Push,” A smiling man in a wheelchair declared as he offered his hand to shake. “I’m Billy Black, the chief here. This is Sam Uley, he and a few others will be the ones to help you navigate our forests ,”

“Thank you for having me, it’s lovely to meet you both.”

“We just wanted to welcome you, as well as invite you out for a bonfire this evening. We tell traditional stories, and have a barbecue. But more importantly it would be a good chance to meet some locals.”

“Absolutely, as long as I’m not intruding that would be brilliant,”

“Not at all,” Sam’s deep voice replies, speaking for the first time. “My partner and I live a few houses down, we’ll collect you on our walk down so you don’t get lost,”

You smiles and nodded gratefully. After collecting the cabins keys from Billy and declining Sam’s help to move your bags, since you had so little anyway, they were on their way and you started to get settled.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The summer sun was still high in the sky when Sam came to collect you that evening. He introduced you to his fiancé Emily who you instantly took a liking too. She seemed bubbly and inviting, happily asking questions and getting to know you. You had quickly schooled yourself when you first saw her, ignoring the scar that cut across her otherwise flawless face. However you were curious as it seemed to match the claw size of the gray wolves that roamed the area.

The walk to the beach was short and flat, and you were soon making your way out onto the sand. You heard the distant sound of chatter as Sam lead you passed driftwood and out onto the open beach. Ignoring the growing nerves settling in your stomach you followed him and Emily towards the large unlit bonfire surrounded by people. Billy was the first one you spotted and he quickly invited you over and introduced you to the other senior council members. He then called over his teenage son Jacob, who reluctantly said hi with his friends Quil and Embry.

After speaking with council members, mostly about the work you would be doing, it was time for food. Plates were passed around and you were happily munching on roast potatoes when the bonfire was lit and Billy’s voice started to reverberate around the group. The stories of the Quileute people and their shifter legends were fascinating. In particular their link with wolves sparked your interest, and you couldn’t help wonder how big the local wolf population was back in the days of Taha Aki.

Eventually the legends came to a close and you came back to reality. The older members began to pack up and Emily beckoned you over from further down the beach.

“[Y/N], hope you’re having a good time. The elders and kids will be heading off but we are staying around for a few drinks. If you’re happy to stay I can introduce you to a few people your own age.”

“That would be amazing,”

Emily smiled and thrust a can of beer into your hand which you gratefully accepted. A bit of liquid courage wouldn’t go astray. She lead you towards the small group hanging around the water.

“Hi [y/n], “ Sam greeted as you invaded the circle. “Babe,” he placed a kiss on Emily’s forehead and wrapped her into his side.

“[Y/n] is the parks worker who Billy told us about. [Y/n] this is Kim,” she pointed to the smiling short brunette who gave a small wave. “Her boyfriend Jared,” the taller boy with arms wrapped over Kim’s shoulders gave a cheery hello. “And Paul. Who along with Sam and Jared will be helping you with the study,”

You turned to face the last member of the small group, who had grunted as a greeting. Paul was the closest to you and you had to crane your neck to see him. Once you caught a glimpse of his face, which was lit by the dying embers of the fire, time seemed to slow. Your eyes met and you could hear him audibly gasp.

That trigged noise in the rest of the group that you didn’t quite understand. Emily gave a little clap, Jared and Kim giggled with each other and you were sure Sam was almost sighing in relief.

You snapped out of the trance and almost reluctantly pulled your gaze away.

“It’s lovely to meet you all, and thank you for being so welcoming.” You smiled, not realising your whole life was about to change.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Part two

Well looks who’s branching out from Bridgerton. Thought it was time to go back to my fanfic writing roots, I almost feel like I’m 13 again. Anyone keen in a part two?

[reidswhre]

Hii! Do you still take requests? I have an idea but i don’t know if anyone has done anything similar. Spencer meets the reader for the first time and does the whole pathogens handshake speech. Reader is like ok got it! And does the french greeting la bise. Reader is confident/flirty and spencer is rendered speechless

spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: just flirting

a/n: in my country we greet everyone this way and i didn’t know it had a name :0 i searched it and my mind blow up loll tysm for sending it hope u like it ^^

Working as a detective in the NYPD didn’t used to be too risky; it was mostly arrests or things like that.

But recently, there was a series of murders (which you were assigned to) that got pretty intense, so the BAU was brought in to help with the case.

“Follow me, the team just arrived,” your boss said, poking his head into your office. You followed him right away.

“Good afternoon, I’m Agent Hotchner. This is Agent Morgan, and our communications liaison, Agent Jareau,” a tall man with dark hair introduced them.

“Nice to meet you. I’m the lead agent,” you said after introducing yourself by name.

“Pleased to meet you. Dr. Spencer Reid is in the conference room, going over the case,” he informed you.

“Go fill him in on what we have,” your boss ordered, and you quickly obliged.

You headed to where Dr. Reid was—at least, that’s what the agent had called him.

You walked in and saw him standing in front of the whiteboard, looking over all the information you’d gathered this past week.

“Pretty tough, huh?” you asked as you approached him.

“What?” He turned to you, looking a little confused. “Oh, yes, it is. All of these cases are.”

“They are.” You introduced yourself by name, reaching out to shake his hand.

“Dr. Spencer Reid,” he replied, looking at your hand a bit awkwardly. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t usually shake hands.”

“Oh,” you raised an eyebrow and lowered your hand, curiosity instantly piqued.

“I didn’t mean to offend! It’s nothing personal—I just…I don’t shake hands with anyone.” He scratched the back of his neck, clearly nervous.

“I’m not offended,” you replied with a playful smile, leaning against the table. “Why not?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“Do you have any idea how many germs get passed around with a single handshake?” he informed you. “Actually, it’s safer to kiss.”

His comment made you raise your eyebrows. “Really?” you asked, smiling with a bit of playful intent.

You leaned in, brushing your cheek against his in a pretend kiss. la bise.

“Is that better, Dr. Reid?” you whispered softly near his ear before pulling back and leaning against the table again.

“Oh- I- uh- no,” Spencer stammered, clearly flustered.

That made you smile, and you decided to tease him a little.

“No? What do you mean by no?” you raised an eyebrow, moving a little closer.

“I didn’t mean ‘no’ exactly, it was—it’s just—umm…”

“Because if that didn’t work, I could give you a more appropriate one” you replied with a grin.

Spencer’s eyes went wide, and you were sure you could see him blushing from miles away.

You laughed. “I’m joking, Doctor,” you gave him a meaningful look.

“Are you?” he blinked rapidly.

“Would you like me not to be?” you asked, smiling.

“Well, I—” Spencer was cut off by his boss arriving in the doorway.

“What do we have?” Agent Hotchner walked in, taking off his jacket and settling in, signaling that your little game was over.

“Thirst,” you said, stepping away from Reid with a small smile. “I’m going to get some water. Anyone else?”

“I’d appreciate it,” Hotch replied.

“And you, germ boy?” you asked, looking at Spencer.

“No- I- I’m fine,” he looked away, clearly flustered.

“Of course you are,” you said, turning on your heel to leave.

[paepaerest]

doodle dump and human designs for a particular AU work in progress

These were made in our lord 2024 but only a few months ago, who knows if most of these designs have been revamped lol and here are some thoughts!

Dictatious - I wanted to edge-ify his design in the most simplest way and also make him look kinda endearing. I kept some of his troll form's features (ie: like his weirdly-shaped jawline, "stubble", hair,) and tried to replicate it in his human form in a way that would work, yet make him not look too trollish or too indistinguishable. Excessive piercings as a bonus and a frankenstein-hairdo, he's definitely a nosferatu freak and listens to type o negative/the cure.

Gunmar & Bular - Gunmar has two colored versions where he's in a yellow phase so he wears a yellow shirt and dyes his hair yellow, change his eye-contacts... Vice versa with blue, this change is very prominent and important to the plot but also, not going to lie Gunmar, it's a little gay. I couldn't imagine him with a lighter-skin tone or it would've looked a bit off (as well with the rest of his colours), so I managed to play around with his iconic troll colors while sticking true with how I wanted him to look like. Bular, oh my goodness I was reading The Secret History of Trollkind and there was a panel where Argh had done him some damage to his right upper lip, kinda badass. Had to add it onto his design, as it is very important to the storyline. If you've noticed, I tried to shape their hairstyles to look similar to their troll horns.

Ursuna - I'm a little bias towards her (you'll see a pattern with the others, lol) and she's not going down without feeling pretty. I wanted her beauty to balance with her charismatic 'leadership' and make her someone you'd least expect to be a villian, or already suspect she is one. Yes, she'll do drag. Yes, she is mother. No, I do not support her actions.

Angor Rot - His hair-do following the same inspiration from his troll form's horns, I imagine he'd style his own hairstyle and give himself braids. He's a true entrepreneur, and still is very magical! He carves voodoo stones etc etc, call him a false prophet or call out on his facade... nothing is going to happen, lol (Still, pack up & move out to a new country for good measure!) Someone put him in a retirement home, he is TIRED.

Gremlin - I spy with my little eye, the random french guy behind Gunmar & Bular. He is specifically the gremlin who draws a moustache onto his face while he trolls around with an alphabet kid's toy. (Yeah he has experienced death once)

NotEnrique/Rique - I don't know, I wanted to make him a normal guy. Who looks like a kid, but is actually almost in his 30's with a heavy boston-scottish accent ? he's a punk.

Draal - He has a new design now, but I thought it'd be nice to bring up his older design. Adidas pants, that says it all. Over-competitive and an over-achiever. He doesn't care about trends, just wears whatever is comfortable and it happens to be a brand clothing. I wanted to give him a fur-coat to resemble his troll form's spiky back, and keep his cool prosthetic arm. He's like the Costco guys with his dad but angrier

Kanjigar - A friend said he looked like he'd live in the suburbs. I see it. An arguably good father (that part seems to be controversial), I wanted to give him a Walter White vibe, while he is supposed to represent the Police.

Argh/Arthur - Big guy, build is a little wider and heavier, still has a muscular build, overall he's changed since. He used to have a slimmer, more muscular build when he was still working under Gunmar, call that an improvement. I got inspired by other people's human designs of Argh and HAD to design how I would see Argh. (I had an Argh/Blinky ao3 binge-reading phase, kiwibird being one of them aaah)

Vendel - A majestic wise old man, managed to keep his hair that long for over a decade. Gave him a skirt, he's kinda giving irish I think. In my defense, he had red-hair when he was younger. (Shown in The Secret History of Trollkind or The Felled !) Treatable hunchback and skin cancer, he and the hospital bill are opps. Does a lot of good for his community.

Speaking of fanfics, i plan to reread the one that heavily influenced me!!! and to know where I'm getting at please read below: the real thing

[jasper-unofficial]

JOONG ARCHEN AYDIN: On his first steps in the entertainment industry, how to lie to idol factories that are trying to control your weight, and his impressive resilience in the face of tragedy

Joong: Actually, I moved to Thailand when I was 16. The reason I moved was I wanted to finish school quickly so I could get a job quickly. I really wanted to grow up. I wanted to live my own life because back then I thought being an adult was great. Right? So I started working as an actor. I was actually walking around Siam and then I went to a casting and got the role.

That's really how it happened! In the early days, I participated in a fashion show and accidentally got the first place.

Aou, Santa, Pond: Oooohhhhh!!!

Joong: And then I became more confident and someone just happened to see me. I was walking around Siam, I was in the middle of Siam Square, and a person just pulled me away. They were like: "Are you interested?" I was wearing really nice clothes that day. It was an Abercrombie t-shirt and Gucci jeans.

Yeah, I borrowed them from a friend.

Anyway, I remember going to the casting. Everyone had their hair and makeup done, some already had fans. We all sat down. The line was very long, there were multiple rows. This one guy just stood up, went up to his fans, and started waving. He was saying "thank you", "thank you for your encouragement" and things like that. We were all waiting to go up to the slaughter room.

No, really, they call it "the slaughter room". There was like twelve of us. They weren't saying much, they were just kind of looking at us, and then they told ten people to leave. The only two left were me and another person. They told us: "Ok, you passed". I was asked to do this one bit and then sent home. I came back for the final round, which was like an acting round, and then I finally got to play. I got to be in a series, I became an actor. It was my first drama, I might not have played very well, but I got some fans! My followers on Instagram went from 5.000 to 500.000. So I started as an actor first but then an opportunity came up. I never thought about it before, but I did like idols, I was a fan of many groups. It was BigBang first, then BTS... When I was in Türkiye, even before coming to Thailand, I already liked them. I used to record dance videos with my siblings at home and upload them to the internet.

"Fake Love" [starts singing a little]. Yes, at the time I was obsessed with it, I really loved it. Then I got an opportunity with a Chinese company. They suggested I go to China and join a TV show contest. At the time, I was weighing my options - I was doing pretty well in Thailand, should I stay here? Eventually I decided it would be better for me to move to China. I wanted to try something new and it was an opportunity to do just that. Since I was an actor, I already had events where I sang and things like that, but I never...

Pond: Danced?

Joong: Yeah, I never danced there. Well, maybe just a little. I took only a couple of dancing lessons. Everyone else is like "oh, I've been dancing since I was a kid", but I started when I joined the contest in China. I was training for about two months and it was very stressful, because I had to study both the language and how to dance. And in comparison to the friends I was training with, I was quite inexperienced because some of them had sung and danced before, they had a solid background.

Personally, I was becoming more and more handsome at the time.

Aou: Ooooohhhhh!

Joong: Before that I was still a kid.

So, two or three months passed, we actually went to China to train there. We were meant to go on for two or three more months, then filming would start and the program would air. It was quite fun, because I got a chance to go with friends from Thailand and there were also trainees from other countries - China, Korea, Japan, it was very international. I got to know a lot of people. We were training together and it was a very warm environment. Because we were practising together, living together, waking up together, eating together.

Food was bad, it was food for trainees. Broccoli and fish, stuff like that.

Interviewer: So it wasn't tasty food, it was healthy food.

Joong: Yes, everyone on the show was on a weight control diet. We had to weigh ourselves and then report back every single day. We also had to send video clips, so they could check what we're eating. They were actually looking at our food. They were asking us about our bodies, how we "build discipline".

But hey, let me tell you. There is a trick to weighing yourself. For example, like I weigh what? 77kg or something. If I touch my finger to the wall, it becomes 75kg!

Santa & Pond: Really?????

Joong: And if you press real hard, it will be 70kg.

The food they gave us was Jian Fei food, diet food, but if you think about it, it takes a lot of energy to practice as much as we did. So I ate a lot. I ate a little in secret.

Santa: Just a little?

Joong: Yes! At the time, I was thin. But yeah, everything else was going well - the environment, the friends I made, and all that. The teachers gave me a lot of encouragement because... I was good at dancing, but when I went there, people were on another level. The guys from Japan were dancing so fiercely, the guys from China were like... wow! Some of them had been dancing since they were twelve, others had just started. I realised we are not the same at all. Like let's say there is a close up, right? I wouldn't have been able to dance as fast as my friends.

I felt really bad. Because I was giving my best, but it wasn't good enough. I couldn't remember every move. And there were people who were really good there! Let's say there was a hundred people - one outstanding person received an award from the teacher. Out of a hundred people, one would get a star. Literally. The teacher would take a star and stick it on that person. Me? I never got it! It was both discouraging and tiring. I woke up early to go training at 7 a.m., came back at 11 p.m. every day. Kind of similar to Santa.

Santa: Yeah.

Joong: But still, things were going well. And then, like three days before filming:

COVID.

Aou: Oh no...

Joong: So suddenly it's all over? Honestly, when we first heard the news going around, no one believed it. Everyone was like: "What? No way! The training has been going on for months and hundreds of people are participating, from so many different countries. How could it all just collapse?" But I went back to the dorm and got on a video call with the company. They said: "Listen, kids. The plane tickets will be arranged and then you can go back in about a month. You'll have to quarantine for around 15 days". So I was just stuck in a room for 15 days. It wasn't like I went back to Thailand and was just sitting around feeling sad. I came back to sit alone in a room and cry for 15 days. And it felt like I left everything behind in Thailand and went to China, but then I returned.

It's not just that I was sad....

Pond: But what would happen now that you were back.

Joong: I wasn't part of anything because my contract stated that if I didn't have a show, I was basically independent. I came back and everything just felt so empty. I was like: What should I do? I don't know what to do! There is no way forward. Did I have any money? No. I only had around 50.000 baht left before going to China. And I spent a lot of money there too. I don't know what I was so confident about, but I spent a lot of money. For some reason I was just so sure that somehow, no matter what, I would gain something from this whole experience. It had to have been worth it, someone had to have noticed me. That was my mindset at the time. So, I came back, COVID was happening, and then my dad died.

I have no money. My dad died. COVID.

My dad died, I can't do anything. When my mom called me, I was shooting an MV with my friends. We were supposed to shoot for three days and my mom told me dad passed away on the first day.

Pond: That's awful.

Joong: I cried the first day. I was putting on makeup, crying while putting on makeup by myself because it was a self-made project.

Interviewer: So it was a self-made project with your friends?

Joong: No, with the label. But we did everything on our own, we paid for it on our own, because we wanted to give back to all the fans supporting us in Thailand somehow. We had no shows, no songs, no nothing, so we decided to make it ourselves and pay for it ourselves. Even though we didn't have much money at the time. It was tough.

Interviewer: How did you get through it? What did you tell yourself? You were disappointed, you had no money, someone you love passed away...

Joong: The thing is, I had no one to rely on anymore. If I couldn't rely on myself, there was no one else to help me. I had to survive, my siblings had to survive. So I just fought and kept going. I had to find a way, somehow. I announced that I have no label and just started over. I told my manager at the time, who was taking care of things slowly, that if they had any work, I was prepared to take it. Or maybe I could just go out there and try to find something on my own? Because I was just sitting around doing nothing. At the time, I had this person to take care of me, right? But maybe because of COVID or something like that, they couldn't find me a job. So I thought: Should I keep going like this? If they aren't giving me anything, can I try to find something on my own? Go out there and fight by myself? So I became a freelancer. But in just two weeks, I was contacted by a label, so thankfully I didn't have to stick to freelance for long.

[volimtem]

Lucky.

pairing: nika mühl x fem!reader

ib anon / ask : a girl with headaches 24/7, could you do a teammate!reader x nika fic where r has a migraines but they have an event where they have to show up to? they manage to get out a bit early and nika just takes care of her

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟmusic reqs: wondering why by the red clay strays (country) or spring into summer by lizzy mcalpine ♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ

drea speaks! — 1) for some reason I was getting 28 by Zach Bryan vibes, if anyone listens to country. 2) this is my first rec, i like to add context + give a story soo it’s not too straight to the point ☻

wc: 1.3k

LUCKY.

The fluorescent lights intensified the aches in your head.

“She’s going to chronically live with these migraines.” You heard the doctor tell your mom.

You were 8, you wish you had tuned that out like with most things. There was a comfort in the knowing, but it was also just a nagging reminder on how it’ll be never-ending.

— the present day —

“Ugh.” You groaned, Nika pulling you tighter into her embrace. She showered kisses along your shoulder, prying you awake. “What’s wrong?” She asked, her voice low and scratchy.

“My head hurts.”

Nika frowned, knowing how it was an inevitable mood changer for you, it set the rest of your day on a negative note.

“Do you still want to go to the ESPYs?” Her hands caressing your cheek.

“I mean we have to, don’t we?” Sass laced in the rhetorical question.

“I guess you’re right.” She sighed. “Anything I can do to help?” she perked, in hopes to better you in anyway possible. You knew of the lengths the brunette would go for you, it was no surprise.

You shifted onto your side to face the girl, giving her a warm smile. “No, but thank you. Y’know how lucky I am to have you? I love you so much.” You praised her.

“Hm. I think I forgot, a reminder would be nice.” She feigned her incompetence.

You rolled your eyes, but still fed into the girls silliness, “Well, I am the luckiest girl. The girlfriend to the Nika Mühl. Any girl would want to be in my position right now.”

“They would, wouldn’t they?” The Croatian added on, her ego amplifying with each compliment.

She laughed this off and squeezed you, imprinting chaste kisses all over your skin, trying not to be too rough since any movement could agitate your migraine.

While freshening up, Nika came to your shared bathroom to give you your pills and water.

She was sooo clingy today, maybe you should’ve faked the migraine episode.

Who was to complain? It was adorable.

She followed you everywhere; like a puppy on a string.

She wrapped her arms around your waist and watched you closely, seeing you attempt to do your makeup.

Your aches were making it the hardest thing to do at the moment.

Nika took notice in your frustration and grabbed the makeup brush from your hand, “Here. Turn around.” She told you.

“What?” You questioned her antics, confusion etched into your furrowed eyebrows.

“Turn around. I’ll do your makeup for you baby.”

She explained in a more soft voice.

“But-“, you tried to counter.

“No buts,” she interrupted. “You’re acting if I haven’t seen you do your makeup a thousand times, let me do this for you.”

You sighed, and complied with a confirming nod.

The point guard smiled and mouthed a ‘Thank you’.

As she did your makeup routine, you recieved endless compliments from your girlfriend.

“You’re so beautiful baby”, “Your lips look so kissable baby, let me kiss you”, “Your lashes are perfect.”, “How’d I get the prettiest girl in the world?”

“Stop.” you would reply. You didn’t want her to.

You weren’t one to accept compliments, but that didn’t mean you didn’t like how the affirming words fell from your lover’s lips.

She sealed the makeup routine with a soft kiss. And setting spray, of course.

The fragrant smell made your migraine symptoms even more sensitive, all your senses heightened, but you decided to keep a tough facade for the Croatian, along with your team, and coach, and everyone who you were representing; to be there tonight with your best smile.

— At the ESPYs —

The two of you made it to the event, Nika taking initiative in socializing for the both of you. You always admired how the girl knew when and how to step in for you.

To say the least, you were overstimulated. Your symptoms never waded and you were supposed to be giving a speech

, a small one, but a speech nonetheless— in front of hundreds of people.

“Hey, you okay?” Aaliyah asked you, noticing your faltering presence.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You sent her a weak smile, Nika shooting you a concerned look.

“Catch you later?” Nika directed to Aaliyah, in which she nodded.

“Are you okay?” Nika whispered in your ear, her hand placed on your mid back as she guided you somewhere more secluded.

You huffed. “I can’t— like I’m serious. I feel like I’m gonna pass out or something. This feels worse than my fucking period cramps.”

“Are you even feeling comfortable to do your speech?” She asked, really considering the fact to pick you up and take you home to rest. by force— which is completely valid with how stubborn you are, The Croatian really rubs off on you in that sense.

“Well, no. But I can’t let down everyone I’m representing, and those who are here supporting me.” You told the girl. You were one of the nominees for the Best Comeback- Athlete award

It was a big night.

A Big night for you both.

“Okay then. You’re doing your speech and then we’re leaving.” Nika said.

“But-“

“No buts, we’re leaving. I’m sure they can find another way to give you the award, which you will be winning. You just won’t be here for it.” She shrugged nonchalantly.

There was no point in arguing with the girl, she was gonna have her way. The thought of ditching wasn’t distasteful either.

smile lines creased your face, “you’re so annoying.”

“A ‘thank you baby for caring about me’ would’ve been nice.” The point guard rolled her eyes.

You two followed through her plan exactly.

You delivered your speech and Nika drove you two home.

Ironically, you turned on the channel that was broadcasting the ESPYs, while Nika was preparing some of her special soup from Croatia. She said it’s supposed to work wonders.

You were gonna hold her to it.

“We’re turning this off.” Nika reprimanded, already pushing the power-off button.

“How are we gonna head home for this migraine of yours, just to make it worse by watching TV?” She questioned your logic— in which she referred to as your stupidity.

“Can a girl, who’s one of the nominees mind you, not want to see who wins?”

The point guard crossed her arms. “We know who’s winning, and it’s you.”

“Now here, Open your mouth.” She instructed, taking a seat on the couch beside you, gesturing a spoonful of soup your way.

You did as your girlfriend said and let her spoon feed you.

“This is so good? I didn’t know I had a pro baller and a chef in my house.”

“Oh shut up, y’know this and eggs are the only thing I know how to make.” The girl chuckled.

“Well you’re good at it let me say that.”

“Why thank you, baby. Y’know I’d learn how to make anything for you, you’re just lucky this is one of the things I learned from my grandma.”

Before bed, she brushed your teeth for you.

She held your chin up to make sure she got in all your crevices and instructed you to open your mouth with “ah”s.

It was cute really, how much of a perfectionist she was trying to be.

When the lights were dimmed and she laid in bed, she gestured you to lay between her legs. She tenderly massaged your scalp and head as you enjoyed the silence between the two of you.

“Baby, you really know how to work your fingers. In more ways than the one I’m used to.” You slipped in the mischievous remark.

If it wasn’t for your migraine, Nika probably would’ve smacked your head upright. Instead, she laughed it off and blushed a little. “Should I be saying thank you?”

“No I should. I am so lucky to be your girlfriend Nika Mühl.”

“I love you.” She awed.

“I love you.”

Before you knew it, the feeling of her feather-like touches drowned out the aches in your head and you fell asleep in her warm embrace.

xx

[insomniakisses]

Moon's First Day

Warnings/Nates: Omegaverse Au, Pup!Reader, Mixed Arsenal Pack, Part of Moon and sunshine au.

It was January 2022 and today was your first day at arsenal, your first day meeting the team and the first time on a senior team. Though most importantly at a club in England. At the age of 16, You had recently moved from your home in the Netherlands to a small apartment in London. Your apartment was small, your belongings few and the building wasn’t the safest. But you couldn’t afford much more.

You were full of nerves by the time you reached the training grounds, hands shaking slightly as you signed the contract and took the photos. Then came meeting the team, and your nerves grew tenfold. You had been told they were nice, you had seen their interactions before and come to that conclusion as well. But that was with each other, it didn’t necessarily mean they would be nice to you or even like you.  

Entering the field, you looked around shyly, the team was they’re in the middle of drills and you felt yourself shrink in fear. They were even more intimidating like this, running and tackling with the ball and the sound of chatter and yells made you feel tiny and insignificant.

What you didn’t know was that you were being watched, Viv was stood having a break and drinking her water suddenly realising why she recognised your name when they were told who was joining. You didn’t know each other, though you knew of her of course she was one of your idols after all and you’d be playing with her on your national senior team for the first time this year. Having played for the youth teams prior. Shockingly, Viv also knew of you having looked into you when she saw the new name on the list for the national team. She never realised you’d be at arsenal too. But you were so young, you couldn’t be living on your own in a new county, could you? What parents would allow that?

When the drills were over you were led towards the team, their boisterous and hyper energy stilling when they take you in. The older girls immediately softening, Katie reaching out to tuck some hair behind your ear.

“I didn’t realise we were getting a pup today” she jests, but no one responds their too busy looking at you.

You feel your embarrassment grow at her comment, the girls seem to pick up on the dejected look that flashes through your eyes at her comment. Viv steps forward hand rubbing your back, as she pulls you into a side hug. Shocking both herself and the team at her need and willingness to physically comfort you.

You awkwardly lean into her hold, nodding along shyly as everyone makes their introductions. When its your turn to speak you shyly mumble you name feeling Viv squeeze you tight and they all coo at you letting out relaxing scents as a way to get you to relax.

Leah stealing you away from the comfort of Viv’s hold to run you through some drills though one thought ran through Viv’s mind as she watched you go. Her face pulling into a confused frown as she turned to her girlfriend, “Surely she isn’t staying on her own?”

Beth simply shrugs in response, her face equally concerned as she looks over to you, “Surely not, I mean she’s tiny!” Beth exclaims, laughing in disbelief at the suggestion your parents would have cared so little as to let you move to a foreign country and live by yourself.

-

As training progressed and you settled a little more, you began to become a little more talkative. The flurry of questions from the girls certainly helped that, and it was all going smoothly until Viv asked you a more serious question.

“So where do you and your parents live? The city can be quite daunting for a pup, I’m sure they’ll be picking you up today. I hope its not a long drive?”

All eyes were on you the longer you stayed quiet, an awkward and embarrassed flush painting your face. “I- uh… My parents are still in the Netherlands... I live alone.” was your quiet response a series of outrage following the statement the girls simply not believing or accepting that you could be telling the truth.

Getting up Viv stares at you face serious though concern shines in her eyes, she outstretches her hand to you. “Show us.” It wasn’t a question, and you knew that so with a sigh you took her outstretched hand letting her lead you to her and Beths car, more than sure the others would follow in their own.

The drive was short and tense, you weren’t sure why they seemed to care so much you were fine. Sure, you ran home from the station every night, sprinting up the stairs too scared for the elevator that had seem better days and you locked the door pushing a chair in front of it when you got in. Leaving the lights off for an hour just in case someone followed you, since one time they had. But you were fine.

-

When you pulled up to the apartment building you saw Katie, Caitlin, Lia and Leah stood by their cars waiting for you as you got out of Viv’s. Letting out a shaky breath and an awkward chuckle you led them inside, mentally cringing when your pervy neighbour made a comment on his way to the lift. Not just hearing but feeling the growls that the girls had let out in reply, your small body being pulled into Lia immediately as she glared at the now closed lift doors.

You simply grabbed her hand and gently tugged it mumbling as you led her away, “We should take the stairs… I always do, Safer…”

The girls took in the change of tone when you said the last word, faces hardening at the thought of you staying here longer. That feeling growing when they saw your apartment, it was tiny and very unsafe. Not to mention your lack of food or well… anything. Had you just left and been given nothing?

“Pack your stuff Liefje, you’re moving.” Viv spoke, walking into your bedroom to start gathering your things, her anger growing when she realised you had only a handful of clothes. The other girls noting you only had plastic cutlery and paper plates. You were not okay, not safe at all, but they were here now. They were going to keep you safe and that would start at Viv and Beth’s place.

[mojojorp]

MOM

Reader is a combat medic, a BIG sweeth tooth and a mother to 141 boys (dont forget can cook too) a waifu material

In case with Los Vaqueros

Masterlist

After they accomplish their mission the 141 task force will be holding a small feast with Los Vaqueros to strengthen their ties of brotherhood

All brotherhood aside...their true intention is....to taste again the meal you made, and now Alejandro and Rudy join the party

Two days before the party, reading your recipe book inside your office, knowing the boys will have a big appetite

'maybe I'll make taco for the snack...or maybe naco with guacamole..?....guhh..but what if they don't like it? I'll be making another country's cuisines, I don't want to offend them or something like that..'

Then you pick up your phone beside you texting Alejandro what they want for the meal, but then you shake your head putting back your phone beside you unfolding your laptop searching for the recipe you're going to make

"I promise them it would be a surprise after all, if I ask him he would know what Im making"

"Making what?" suddenly Kyle barged into your office with his innocent eyes, immediately snapped your laptop shut and gave him a wary smile

"Kyle!~ ohh..hoo...what are doing here hun?"

"Do I have a reason to hanging around with our beautiful Doc?"

"Well since my sweets stock has been decreasing these last few days, Im getting more suspicious with you boys hanging around my office" You shot Gaz a look when he opened your cabinet, and beamed when he saw his favorite candy

"Thanks for calling me beautiful though"

with a mouth full of candy he faced you and gave you a thumbs-up

"Say Doc ...what is the menu for the party?"

"Well...Im just going to research about it..Alejandro, Rudy and some of the Vaqueros will come..I want to try some of the Mexican cuisine...." Gaz furrowing his eyebrow sensing a hesitation in your tone and doubt

"But?" he walks to your desk

"..well our taste buds are different from them and..well..." pursing your lips

"Doc.. Im sure whatever you're making they'll like it.."

"You..sure?"

"Positive..side's who doesn't like your cooking? Ghost always asks for more...."

"hmp...yeah...5 plates,after that he asked for a snack...no wonder he's huge I still remember that one time when the canteen almost lost its ingredients for one month" you huff at him, but because of him it eases all of your worries and you've decided that you're going to make both taco and naco for the snack, now for the main dish and drink...

'Oh well let's just make barbecue and fruit punch, good thing the boys aren't picky....and got a big appetite oh..maybe some cake or pastries would be nice~..'

Notice the beam in your eyes Gaz smiled gladly to ease all your worries

.

.

2 days after, as promised the Vaqueros came to 141 base Captain Price welcomed them followed by Gaz beside him

"Good to see you again Colonel Vargas" Price said firmly shaking Alejandro's hand

"Captain Price, you too comrade!"

"Come Soap and Ghost are waiting for you inside, let just hope they did not gobble up the food..." Price escorted them to the canteen

"I've heard Doc the one who making it?"

"Aye...along she my best medic she is the best cook here, I sure you'll love it Colonel" Price proudly boasts about you

"Can't wait to taste it then...I've heard a lot from Soap"

"heh bloke always bragging about her ..a lot" Price huffs a smirk planted against his face, as they arrive at the canteen

They could smell the barbeque....and hear the arguing of Soap with Ghost

"THE F**** Johnny! you almost burnt it!" barked Ghost furiously fanning the smoke out of his masked face

"Well WHY don't YOU try it?!" challenged Soap as he tried to undo his mistake...but alas what was already done...is done

"Both of you! please just sit down!" you intervene them before getting heated, placing your hand against Soap's chest you quickly flip all the meat and the other vegetables, ordering both of them to sit down with your 'mom stare'

Like a disobedient child they sat, but not before kicking each other legs

Price facepalming as Alejandro just chuckles along with Rudy

"Hermano! We've come!" announced Alenjadro

"Alenjandro!, good to see you again brother!" beamed Soap as he rushed to Alejandro giving him a brotherly hug

As they reunited you huffed and took care of the barbeque, really you just took a minute to take some of the sauce in the kitchen and you asked for Ghost and Soap to take care of the barbecue

"Damn...this one is burnt...oh well..I guess this one is on my plate" mutter you the ever sacrifice placed the burnt one on your plate can't let any these boys of yours eat any burnt food on their off day

"Good to see you again Doc.." greeted Alejandro, as Rudy politely nodded at you

"Ah! yes Alejandro, Rudy! sorry I little late for the prepare, damnit Soap.." you mumbled cursing for your own stupidity to leave the cooking to the boys

"You want any help Hermana?" asks the sweet Rudy, you smile kindly at him

"No need Rudy, you're the guest here-"

"I insist Doc..." he insisted with a soft look in his eyes that made you melted

"Alright then...um..ah could you pour the soda inside the fruit punch there"

"Sure thing..all of it?" you nodded and he obediently poured all of the transparent soda inside the fruit punch, Alejandro stared at you in the slideness focusing on the barbecues pleased to see you again

"Okay..Boys!! the food ready!"

Then Soap immediately rushed to your side and raised his palm, reminding him to eat the vegetables you gave him his plate as you give all of them their portions you take your plate

Rudy  noticed that your portion was full of burnt BBQ, and he huffed at the ever the sacrificed you, when he offered you his good portion you refused him as you chuckled softy at him and said ‘Nah it's alright you enjoy your own I will make it again sides it brings more flavor to it’ tenderly gazing at the boys reminding you of your troublesome siblings

Damn he really want to take you away to his house and make you his wife

With so much laugh and joy they all eat, not forget the snacks and some pastries you make all of their exhaustment and the gore memory of the battle gone when they eat your cooking

"Ahh..s****...mine gone.."

"Damn Soap.. that's your third plate" grumble Ghost

"Betta’ me then you LT" Soap squinting his eyes at Ghosts who munching away his food like a hamster his cheeks storing the barbecue on his cheeks

“need more barbeque Gaz?” ask you noticing his empty plate, shaking his head Gaz takes one of the tacos on the big plate

“no need love, I’ll take the taco”

“ask me if you need more barbeque okay? I’ll make it again” smiled softly Gaz nodded, and then Price walked to you placing his rough hand on your shoulder

“Just take it easy Doc, I’ll take care of the boys  just enjoy the feast yeah?”

“you sure Cap?”

“Positive” he rubbed your shoulder and pushed you gently back into your seat, both Alejandro and Rudy noticed the tender gaze from Price as he caressed your head this went unnoticed by you

Deep inside both of them felt a pang of jealousy, and then Alejandro approached you with his plate in his hand

“Evening Doc”

“Ah Alejandro!  Sorry, I'm not greeting you properly...” Shaking his head Alejandro chuckles

“don't mind it Doc, I really enjoyed the feast you made though wonder Soap bragging about it” he gave you a charming smile that made you flustered (Oh God I thank you for making such a dashing creature like him)

“i-its not really something to brag about...I just love to cook for the boys thats all..” his thick eyebrow twitching

‘for the boys’...now that REALLY making him jealous of the 141 men

“Ever thinking of transfers to another team Doc?” asks Alejandro suddenly

Out of instinct, the 141 task force eavesdropped the conversation, squinting their eyes at Alejandro while Rudy quietly observed them slurping his fruit punch

“Well...”you trail..staring at your half eaten burnt barbeque (made with love by SOAP) the atmosphere becomes tense of course this goes unnoticed by you, glancing at the boys who immediately act like they didn’t eavesdrop on your conversation

Smiled at the boys you glance at Alejandro

“Nope not at all..” raised his thick eyebrows, a disappointment filled his chest alas he still smiled and faced his body towards you his gaze flickering to 141 who smiled proudly at your remark, then back to you

 “...may..I ask why?”ask him

“I..enjoy the time I spend with them..well..except when we are on the mission that is..heh..and I doubt they’ll allow me to transfer  to another team” After that you drink the fruit punch

“Ah..right..of course...they are deeply in love with you Doc” claims Alejandro, you bashfully chuckle while the others snap their head towards Alejandro with their eyes popping out

“yeah...more like they in love with my cooking heh those rascal..”

The 141 sighed in relief but was somehow frustrated that you didn’t take a hint

The Colonel again raised his eyebrow as he glanced at the 141 who were slightly slumped but still munching away their food, then Alejandro realized

‘she..doesn’t notice it ..does she?’

“Why the question?” ask youwhile taking a bite of your taco, Alejandro smirking wiping a speck of sauce on your cheeks with his thumb as he leans toward your face

“A-Alejandro?” your face flushed red and squeak when his nose touched yours

“If you would change your mind..would you like to become one of us? Besides..I would be at ease to have the woman I am attracted to in my team”

“W-wha?!”

A looming and rage aura came from the 141 body , Rudy just could pray that Alejandro came home safely

Suddenly Alejandro chuckles and leans away from your flushed face, booping your nose as you stare at him dazed and confused

“Kidding hermana, but really if you ever change your mind Vaqueros would always welcome you~”

“A-ah..okay..thank you..for the offer..” nomming the nachos you faced away from Alejandro, when you faced away from him Alejandro glanced at the 141 and shot them a smug smirk, Rudy just stared at him deadpan

‘oh...Ale..I hope you are back home safely..’

Note:

Arghhh..!! Sorry for the delay! Im really busy with my project and all

Coffee please?

[motorsportbarbie13]

What's A Soulmate? Part 3

In which your best friend comes back to you. But is it too late?

Warnings: oof the angst. swearing. that's it. Pairing: Lando Norris X SainzSister!Reader Word Count: 2.5k words

(a/n: this is how i cope after that hot mess of a race today. i hate everything and everyone except for my pookie bear lando norris)

- What's A Soulmate? - Part 1 - What's A Soulmate? - Part 2 - What's A Soulmate? - Part 2.5 - Master List

2021 You keep your promises. 

2022  And then he started dating her. 

2023 Silence.

March, 2024Australia 

“We are so excited to have you join the team.” Your new boss beams back at you as you follow her through the corridor. “Thank you for making the flight at such short notice. Had we known Summer was going to quit so abruptly, we would have had you come out with the team earlier in the week.” 

You nod, adjusting the collar of your new papaya and black polo. “Of course, I’m just happy it all worked out.” 

The heat of the Australian sun beats down outside the McLaren hospitality building, but inside the air is cool and dry. You’d landed in the country last night after what felt like the longest flight you’ve ever taken from New York into Melbourne but were so happy to be back in the paddock after what felt like ages. 

“Like we discussed earlier in the month, you’ll be working with Oscar as his primary press officer. I’m sure you know what that entails and everything, not much has changed since Carlos was with the team, but if you have any questions you have my number.” Brenda smiles down at you as she hands you your new McLaren issued iPhone.  

Three weeks ago, you had graduated from NYU with a double degree in public relations and business management. One week later, you had accepted a job offer from McLaren to join the communications team working with Oscar. Between your dual degree and experience working in the paddock with your brother, the job had been a slam dunk for you.

“The boys are just finishing up some filming up stairs. Let’s go up and introduce you to Oscar. You already know Lando.” She says, with a bit of a smile. Your friendship with the Brit was well known back during the years you were still working with Carlos. No one knew how much it had changed since though. 

Nerves fluttered around in your stomach as you follow Brenda up to the second floor where you could hear Oscar and Lando loudly laughing at something. As far as you knew, Lando was unaware that you had taken a job with McLaren. You had asked Carlos and Charles to keep your new job quiet around the paddock, not wanting to create drama before it was necessary. This was certainly going to be a shock, you knew that. 

The last time you saw him flashes through your memory, quick and painful, as Brenda approaches where Oscar and Lando stand each holding dry erase boards. 

Early 2022

“What do you mean she doesn’t want me around?” You nearly laugh, the absurdity of what your best friend is telling you not fully computing. 

Lando grips the back of his neck, eyes looking everywhere but at you. “Our friendship makes her uncomfortable.” 

Now you really do laugh. “What friendship, Lan? I’ve barely seen you this year!” 

It was the truth. Ever since you had started classes in New York last year, your time to see your best friend had dwindled down into nearly nothing. You went to as many races as you could but going from spending nearly 24/7 with your brother and Lando to barely seeing them once every few months was more painful than you had anticipated. It hurt so much to watch him continue on, seemingly so unbothered by losing you, but this? This was the last straw. 

He had been dating the Portuguese model for a bit now and you had to admit, she was pretty and wonderfully nice. You truly had no issue with her, having met her once at a Grand Prix you had attended before classes had started this year. She was quiet, sweet, and obviously adored Lando so her being with him was fine with you. You wanted to see your best friend happy. But now? Now she was threatened by someone who wasn’t even a second thought in Lando’s head? 

You had spent the last few months desperately trying to believe that Lando wasn’t pulling away, that he wasn’t purposefully putting distance between you and him. Texts would go unanswered, calls went unreturned. You had chalked it up to him being busy and adjusting to having a new teammate but now you guess you had the truth: he was avoiding you. 

“If that’s what you want, I’ll respect your wishes.” You murmur, taking a step away, suddenly wanting nothing more than to retreat back into the Ferrari motorhome where you could nurse your embarrassment in peace. 

“It’s not…” Lando fumbles, but you know what he’s about to say isn’t true. This is exactly what he wants. 

“No, I get it Lan. She’s threatened by me. I respect that and I’ll make myself scarce this weekend. You and her won’t have to worry about me anymore.” 

The pain of your words slices through Lando. He hadn’t wanted to do this, far from it. But the fight that she had started last night when she had seen you in the pit lane laughing with Carlos and Charles had put him in a tight spot. You were his best friend, but she was his girlfriend. He owed her the respect, right? Even if he knew that nothing was going on, nothing could happen. It wasn’t in the cards for the two of you. 

“I’m sorry.” He says. 

“Me too, Lan.

You blink rapidly, erasing the painful memory from your brain as your boss steps towards Oscar and Lando, who are watching you approach. The look on Lando’s face sends your pulse skyrocketing. It’s a look that’s somewhere between surprise, confusion, and maybe even a bit of betrayal and you hate every bit of it. 

“Oscar, I wanted to introduce you to your new press officer. She just landed last night so I’m sure she’s a bit jet lagged but she insisted on getting to work straight away. She’ll be taking you around for media duties after FP2 today so be nice, okay?” 

“I’m always nice.” The Aussie says, soft smile on his lips. “It’s nice to meet you. Lando talks about you all the time.” 

Your eyes dart towards Lando, who is still somewhat glaring at you like he can’t believe you’re in front of him. He talks about you? Still? Your stomach does an involuntary somersault at this bit of information, blush creeping its way high up on your cheek bones. 

The phone in your hand chimes with a reminder. Oscar is due to an Australian media outlet in ten minutes for an interview. “Well, that’s my cue.” You turn to the girl that had been filming the segment with a friendly smile. “Is he good to go?” 

“He’s all yours!” 

With permission to leave, you turn on your heel and walk towards the staircase, Oscar in tow. Lando watches after you, still struggling to process what just happened. You worked for McLaren now? As Oscar’s press officer? He had just played padel with Carlos this fucking morning and he hadn’t said a single word about this. Surly Carlos had known about your taking the job so why hadn’t he told him? Did you not want him to know? Did you hate him so much that you didn’t even care if he knew or not? How had the most important person in his life become someone he just used to know once? 

That last fight before he…said some of the the most shameful thing he’s ever said flashes through his mind as he wanders down to his drivers room, suddenly needing a break. 

“You literally never shut up about her. ‘She does this.’ And ‘she does that’. Jesus Christ, Lando you could not be more obvious about it.” The anger in her voice had set his teeth on edge. “And now I have to sit and watch the, what did they call you guys? The Chaos Gremlins? Now I have to sit and watch The Chaos Gremlins be reunited for the entire fucking weekend and just sit back and take it?” 

“There is nothing going on between us.” Lando insists, running his hands through his curls. “I haven’t seen her in months. Months!” 

“But there would be if she was here, right?” 

He had no answer for her. Because she was probably right in her assumption. If you had stayed, Lando had no idea what would’ve happened. 

“It’s her or me, Lando.” 

The rest of the day passes in what feels like the blink of an eye. By the time Oscar is done with all of his interviews at the end of the evening, you feel dead on your feet. You’ve lost all sense of time, feeling like you’ve been hit with a truck and you want nothing more than to get back to your hotel room and sleep for the next 5 to 10 business days. Or the last free practice tomorrow afternoon. 

The Uber to the hotel takes far too long but just as your eyes are about to shutter closed in the back seat, you arrive and drag your near lifeless body up to your room. A quick shower is all you have the energy for, desperately needing to get the germs of the day off and then, you’re in bed, blissfully tucked between soft white cotton sheets watching some weird Australian soap opera. 

Your eyes are heavy when the alert dings and you nearly ignore it, assuming it’s Carlos checking in. He could wait until you saw him tomorrow. But a quick glance shows you it isn’t Carlos. 

You don’t fully understand why you gave him your room number. Not when the only thing on your mind is going to sleep. This is probably a really bad time to have such an important conversation too but a part of you, that part of you that never stopped hoping that maybe one day your best friend would come back to you, that part of you wanted to get this out of the way so you could move on, with or without him. 

Ten minutes later, there’s a soft knock on the door and you haul yourself out of bed, still bone numbingly tired but also strangely keyed up with nervous energy. This would be the first time you had really spoken to Lando since that night two years ago. Sure, you two had exchanged pleasantries when you found yourself in the paddock for a race weekend but most of the time you kept to yourself in the Ferrari garage and motorhome, making sure your presence wasn’t noticed by anyone outside of your brother and Charles. 

Tugging on your favorite NYU crewneck, you pad towards the door while willing your racing heart beat to slow. This is fine. This is going to be okay. You two needed to talk if you were going to be working closely this year so this had to happen sooner or later. 

The door swings open and Lando stands in front of you looking just as exhausted and devastated as you feel. 

“Hi.” He breathes, hands wringing together. 

“Hi Lan.” You sigh. 

His smile widens at the nickname and you open the door a bit wider to allow him in. You cross the room, settling on the king size bed before staring up at him. “You wanted to talk?” 

The pain in his eyes cuts such a deep slice through you, it’s a wonder you don’t start bleeding out on the bedspread. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?” He crosses the room towards you, setting every nerve ending in your body firing. He’s too close and you can’t control yourself when he’s like this. 

You shrug, wondering how you’re still able to hold yourself together at this point. “I didn’t think you’d care.” 

Lando drops his gaze away from you then, shame and anger surging across his handsome features. “Of course I’d care.” 

“You didn’t when you chose her over me.” 

He drags a hand over his face, the look of misery that sits on his face is reminiscent of the night you told him you were moving to New York City all those years ago. The memory brings a surge of white hot pain that cuts you so deeply it steals the breath from your lungs. If you had known that this was where you’d end up, you didn’t know if you would have made the same decision. 

“And listen, that was fine, I guess. You had to respect your relationship with her but the most confusing thing was afterwards. Why the radio silence after?” You fold your hands into your lap, unable to meet the gaze that you feel so heavy on your skin. He’s practically begging you to look at him but you simply can’t. 

“I was ashamed.” He admits and you feel the tears prick at the back of your eyes, a hot and painful sting that reminds you of how much you’ve lost. “I was ashamed at how I treated you and couldn’t face it.” 

“Rightfully so.” You mutter, rolling your eyes.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs while reaching for your hand. “I’m so sorry for how I treated you. I should have told her to fuck off for making me choose between her and you. I should have chosen my best friend and I’ve regretted that decision every day of my life since.” 

The fact that you’re finally hearing the words you’ve been dreaming of hearing for nearly two years hits you like a ton of bricks. Here he was, your best friend, finally apologizing and owning up to his mistakes and for some reason, it felt like it was all just too little too late. How many nights had you stayed up, sobbing on your living room couch with your roommates over the stupid boy who was mean to you? Wondering what you had done to make him treat you like this? Hadn’t your friendship meant more than what it had ended up being? 

And now, here you were, back in his orbit again and it just…didn’t matter. You had spent so many nights wishing this would come and now that he was finally taking responsibility and owning up to his actions, it just didn’t feel like it was enough. 

“I think you should go.” 

“What?” He stutters, fingers gripping yours almost desperately. 

“I am exhausted and need some time to process this Lando. And you have quali tomorrow, you need to be focusing on racing, not on our issues.” 

“I don’t give a fuck about racing.” He bites out, blue eyes turning stormy gray with anger. “I want to fix this.” 

“This isn’t something that can be fixed with a single conversation.” 

You didn’t even know if it could be fixed at all, if you were being honest with yourself. 

“Then I’ll keep going until it is fixed, I promise.” 

“Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep, Lando.” You warn, rising from the bed. “I need to get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Lando feels like his heart is being ripped from his chest. He had never intended for your friendship to end up like this. It just…slipped away from him and he was so swept away by his lifestyle the last year that he convinced himself you were both better off where you were instead of together like the universe intended. He had been so scared to admit how wrong he had been, choosing her over you that night that he had allowed it to spiral so out of control it might never come back to him. You might never come back to him. 

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Country Rose 2

Warnings: age gap, power dynamics, creep behaviour, other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

It's like a movie. The fields of tall corn and swaying wheat, the cows in the distance, the sky swirling in shades of pastel blue. It's a rustic portrait of a bygone time. You lose yourself in the serenity of it, swept away in a daydream despite the tickle in your nose.  

It isn't until the truck jerks to a stop and Clark cranks the gears into park that you return to earth. He grabs his hat from the dash and puts it on, shading his eyes from the sun as he gets out. 

You look out the windshield and close your dry eyes, trying to find an ounce of moisture. He comes around your side but you have your door open before he can get there. You hop down from the height as Clark retrieves your bag from the back. 

"Ma will be happy to meet you. She's been excited," he says as he waves you towards the porch of the farmhouse. 

"Oh wow," you gape up at the double storey house in awe. "This place is huge." 

"Too big for just us," he agrees. You tramp up the steps and to the door, hesitating as you get ahead of yourself. He reaches by you to pill back the screen door, "go on." 

You enter and look around. He puts your bag on the wooden bench as you sidle towards the wall. He removes his hat and puts it on a hook next to a stained flannel. 

"It's a farmhouse, you can keep your shoes on," he directs, "hey ma," he calls over your head as he points you past the staircase. "Back." 

You head down towards the open archway and step into a spacious kitchen finished in walnut and brass. A woman stands at the island, shucking cobs of corn. She smiles at your entrance and drops her handful. 

"She's here," she bleats and scurries around the counter. She's frail despite her energy, "oh, lovely." 

You're put off as she hugs you and you stand stalk still as you let her. She then embraces her son as he clears his throat. She backs off, smoothing her steely hair with knobby fingers. 

"My mother, Martha," Clark introduces as she touches her hip and backs up to the island. She leans on it subtly, "ma--" 

"Oh, I know," she trills your name, "it's so nice to finally meet you." 

"Uh, yeah, er, thanks," you sway nervously. You didn't realise it was such a big deal. 

"I'm gonna get her settled, you need anything?" Clark intones as he hovers close behind you. 

"Everything is perfect, honey, everything," she beams at you, "now everyone's here." 

You smile sheepishly and peek back at Clark. He beckons you after him as he leads you back down the hall. He has you go upstairs first and the stairs creak beneath him as he grabs your bag and follows. 

"Just down this way," he points you to the right. 

You take his direction down to a room near the end. You push inside and and he puts your bag in the wooden chair near the door. Everything is so pretty and tidy. A plaid quilt is draped at the end of a neatly made bed and there's a carved wardrobe against one wall. The rug matches the curtains and a table with a vase of flowers stands near the window. 

"Oh, it's cute." 

"Ma wanted everything ready for you," Clark says, "she gets lonely when I'm off working." 

"Uh, yeah," you stop by the bed and turn back to him, "so I'm going to be helping her?" 

"Sure, yep," he hooks a finger in a loop on his jeans, "she's had some difficulties since pa passed. She's not as... fit as she once was but she's stubborn. You can help her with the cleaning and cooking. Make sure she takes breaks," he explains as he frees his thumb and combs back his hair. "She does the listen to me and I can't keep an eye on her all the time." 

"I'm sorry, that must be hard," you frown. 

"Not to worry, there's another field hand. I just figured we could use someone in the house since Lenny left." 

"Right," you try to smile, "well, this is so nice and thank you for picking me up. I was a bit nervous." 

"Nervous?" He wonders as his cheek dimples. 

"It's a bit desolate out here," you chuckle, "when I got off the train I thought maybe it was the wrong place." 

"Ah, yes, it's a bit... lonely but it's peaceful," he says, "I'll let you get unpacked then and maybe after you can check in on ma? I don't want her doing all that alone." 

"Sure," you bounce, frenetic after so long sitting. 

He grins at your buzzing energy and backs up, "let me know if you need anything." 

"I'm good," you assure him.