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how could i ever (treat my baby that way)
| leah williamson x reader | angst | 4.7k | inspo: never keeping secrets by babyface | a/n: got this ask a long ass time ago and it's finally gone somewhere. this is part one to a two part fic! (read part ii here)
~~~
You’d think that between the chilly air coming out of the air conditioning in the room and the freezing cold drink in your hand that you’d be comfortably cool, body not overheating despite being in a slightly crowded bar.
You hoped that would be the case, just like it had been many times before. Yet, the way your body was burning right now contrasted your prayers, unusual for you, yet not surprising given the circumstances.
You knew you were pissed, could nearly feel the steam coming out of your own ears before your emotions could even make themselves known. It sucked, having to accept your fate, letting yourself get more and more agitated at the sight in front of you, hand tightening on your glass, fingertips white. But that’s all you could do, invisible rope holding you back, keeping your hands tied, the artist no other than the one you loved.
Letting your eyes drift over to the blonde, your blonde, in the middle of the dance floor, your jaw tightened.
You knew she was yours, the two of you having been together for over a year now. You knew she was yours, your apartment being the one she resided in the most. You knew she was yours, ‘I love you’s’ whispered in the mingled breathes you shared late into the night. You knew she was yours. So why didn’t it feel like it?
Your unwavering gaze, almost like two laser beams, focused on your girlfriend, mentally begging her to look your way, to see the hurt in your eyes.
Taking a deep breath to try (and fail) to calm yourself down, you quickly downed the rest of your drink, thankful to have gone the sober route tonight. You didn’t know what drunk you would’ve done in all this hurt, and you surely didn’t want to find out.
Contemplating whether you should swim your way through the sea of people to the bar, you waited. You waited, and waited, and waited, pleading to the universe that she would meet your eyes.
She didn’t look.
Not a single glance was sent your way.
She didn’t care.
Shaking your head, anger quickly turning into disappointment, then sadness, you stepped out of where you were in the corner, having preferred to stay back by the booth as the rest of the girls enjoyed their night.
Making your way over to the bar, you ordered yourself a water, hoping it would soothe the ache in your chest.
Downing half of it as soon as the bartender passed it to you, you turned, eyes once again finding purchase on your girlfriend subconsciously.
You watched as she danced with the Chelsea player unashamedly, almost proudly, as if she didn’t have a girlfriend to go home to at the end of the night.
Naive and infatuated, you had never bothered to consider the difference between private and secret back when the idea was suggested to you. Now? Now you utterly resented the distinction between the two words.
Feeling the hair on the back on your neck rising however, you blinked out of your thoughts, quickly zoning back into real life, scanning the room for the cause before ocean eyes met yours.
Leah.
The blonde was finally looking right at you, the girl in front of her continuing to dance in close proximity, her eyes closed- too gone with the music, to notice her distracted partner.
Raising an eyebrow in silent question, you waited.
You waited for a reaction, an apologetic smile, a mouthed sorry. Something to show she realized how her actions were hurting you. Anything.
You waited a second, then another, and then another.
Instead you got nothing, a continued blank look shot your way as she continued looking at you, head tilted.
You were well aware you didn’t have to say much, nearly a year of being in a relationship, a little over two of living together meant she knew you- quite well too, if you had an opinion on the matter.
In this moment though, it felt like not enough.
All the memorized takeout orders, her awareness on how you liked your coffee, what your moods were and how to best comfort you in your lows- her knowing all of that didn’t matter if she couldn’t understand how absolutely heartbroken you felt right now, watching her keep away from you, dance with another body that wasn’t yours, marking a win that you both shared, but only one of you were celebrating.
It didn’t matter if she didn’t realize she was hurting you.
Bringing your drink towards your chest, you ducked your forehead down, letting the cool glass bring you some reprieve to your growing headache, no doubt caused by heartache.
Wanting nothing more than to leave, teammates be damned- this night was over for you long ago- you placed the glass back on the bar top, thanking the woman behind it once again before heading over to the team’s table.
Quickly grabbing your coat, confident that Leah could find her way home- not out of malice but with the staggering number of your shared friends, teammates, and rival players in the club- you bid adieu to Steph and Kim, the only two by the table, citing a tired body as your excuse.
Exiting the stifling atmosphere and slipping into the cool air, you took a deep breath in, forcing your shoulders to relax in an attempt to convince yourself you were okay.
Well aware that Leah’s eyes had followed you out, you committed the sound of only your footfalls in the late night into memory, eyes stinging, shaky breaths escaping you.
Beginning the trek home, your apartment not too far, you let yourself get lost in your thoughts.
~~~
It’s much, much, later when you hear the unmistakable jingle of Leah’s keys by your front door- three forty-three am to be exact.
You weren’t surprised to hear her here. It was very much expected in fact, the blonde spending nearly all her days and nights here since quarantine started, not bothering to move out once you had made things official.
Sighing at the fact that you hadn’t slept a wink since you had reached home, not for a lack of trying but for having to console your dejected heart, you internally groaned at the thought of dealing with a drunk Leah.
Putting your grief aside for the time being and rising out of bed, you rubbed the tiredness out of your eyes and padded over to the kitchen just as Leah stumbled into the entry hallway in front of you.
Taking in the sight before you, you sighed warily.
The blonde looked absolutely disheveled- hair matted to her forehead but sticking out everywhere, heels in her hand, and exhaustion pouring out of her eyes.
Watching her stagger blindly towards the island, you quickly put an arm around her waist, leading her to sit on a barstool as you silently grabbed her some water.
Placing the glass in front of her, you turned, planning to head into your shared bedroom to get a set of clothes for the midfielder to change into when her groggy voice interrupted your actions, derailing your thoughts.
“You left early…”
The accusatory tone wasn’t lost on you, your defences immediately going up.
Baffled at how it was your behaviour being questioned, you shook your head in shock.
“I did,” you state matter-of-factly, turning to face her.
You paused for a second, waiting to see what the blonde would say next, already on edge from the rollercoaster of emotions from today.
“Why?”
The question put you in a state of incredulity, your anger and hurt resurfacing.
“Why? You’re really asking me why?” Your voice came out louder than you would’ve liked, given the time, but you didn’t pay much mind.
“Leah, you spent the whole night getting cozy with another girl. The whole night! While I was there! And you’re asking me why I left early?”
“We were just dancing…it’s not like I was making out with her in the middle of the dance floor.” The slurred words combined with the eye-roll from the defender had you shaking your head. “It was completely platonic.”
You couldn’t believe this.
“You’re joking right? Or did you get a concussion mid-game that I don’t know about?”
“Relax... just because you can’t go a few hours without me doesn’t mean I have to do the same.”
The slurred words coupled with the nonchalant tone with which Leah expressed herself caused you to lose your breath for a second, mind baffled.
“Did you-,” collecting yourself for a second, you asked her, “…did you just call me clingy?”
Swallowing hard in the silence that followed, you felt your stomach sink.
“You’re really calling me clingy?” The shakiness in your voice made itself known, disbelief becoming apparent.
“It was friendly.” You watched as Leah turned her body away from you, choosing to rest her head on the cool countertop in order to find some relief from her probable headache.
“Was it? You want me to go fucking drape myself all over Millie the next we go out with the United team? Let me know if you feel ‘clingy’ then?” Voice rising more than quiet words once more, you took a step back, trying to put space between you and the other girl.
“Oh come on it wasn’t that big of a deal…”
You would have agreed it this hadn’t happened so often, so many times in the past- tonight being your tipping point.
There had already been multiple team events where the blonde stayed the furthest away from you, never bothering to celebrate your goals with you, avoiding any physical contact, almost as if it burned her to be near you. Hiding away any photos you took together, platonic or romantic, in her phone, them never once leaving her library.
You didn’t know how much more of this you could take, really.
Ignoring that she couldn’t see you, you shook your head at Leah. Clenching your jaw, you decided to forego taking care of the blonde like you had planned.
“Great, then neither will be you going to bed alone tonight,” you scoffed.
You saw the midfielder immediately shoot up into a sitting position from her slumped state, eyes wide, body tense.
“We haven’t slept apart since the pandemic, you know that,” her timid voice echoed in the dark apartment.
It was true. You’d both had gotten lucky since and had even been paired up for the handful of times the team had stayed in a hotel, the only time spent apart being during international breaks.
“Well I feel like I was too clingy earlier so I wanna give you space now, since you so clearly crave that.”
“Babe…”
Well aware that you were too upset to think rationally, you continued ignored Leah’s pleas. Turning on your heel, you started to make your way to grab your pillow and head to the guest room, choosing to kick yourself out rather than disturb the midfielder.
Hearing footfalls behind you, you shook your head as you continued on your path.
“Leah, go to bed. I’m sleeping alone and that’s final.” Your voice came out cold, almost stoic.
The blonde reached for your hand, fingertips barely skimming yours as you harshly pulled your arm to your chest, cradling it.
“Leah I fucking mean it.”
Shoulders dropping, the blonde dejectedly agreed, too out of it to protest again.
Hearing a lack of footsteps behind your own as you made your way across the hall, you shuddered as your heart sank deeper, the weight in your chest settling torturously.
Why did love hurt?
~~~
You didn’t know it but Leah’s miserable the next few days without you. She’s well aware she’d put her foot in her mouth far enough, dug her own grave, but she misses you terribly anyways.
She misses your hugs in the morning and how you’d let her cuddle you as you cooked breakfast. She misses your kisses and the way you’d randomly just come sit with her during your free time. She misses you being around her, you always hyper, your energy infectious, always brightening her moods. She especially missed your mere presence, you now never spending more time than needed in the same room as her now, instead electing to leave for practice much earlier than needed, picking up takeout and eating in your room, doing anything and everything to ensure you both would never cross paths for longer than a handful of seconds.
The distance between you had been so noticeable that it didn’t take the team long to catch on, the way you didn’t gravitate to Leah at every given chance during training a stark contrast to your regular shenanigans.
It had gotten to the point where the team had even been too scared to ask you directly, your frustration clear enough on the pitch with how hard you trained, interactions with the rest of your teammates minimizing as well.
It’s why Beth and Lia had quietly confronted Leah, both uneasy at what had changed between you both.
“You two okay? She keeps avoiding you at practice, and to be honest, it’s slightly worrisome…” Lia’s voice trailed off as her, Beth, and Leah made it back towards the locker rooms post-practice.
Taking a quick look over her shoulder, not finding you trailing behind, Leah faced the Swiss captain, voice dropping lower.
“Yeah, everything’s fine. She’s just going through some personal stuff. She’ll be okay…”
The ‘I hope so’ went unsaid, but the way Leah’s pitch rose at the end of the statement had the two other player’s eyebrows raising in silent question, thoughts they both chose not to voice on the tip of their tongues.
Nodding in response, the trio continued their walk in silence, no one wanting to push too hard.
Unsaid or not, all three knew that nothing was fine, Leah more so than the others, and it scared her immensely.
~~~
Stress clear on her face, Leah sprinted off the pitch after the game against Chelsea, chasing you down the tunnel before the rest of the team had even left the field.
Catching up to your tired body, she grabbed your hand and pulled you in the opposite direction to a more secluded spot, uncaring of how drained you absolutely were.
Too tired from the past few days to refute, you let yourself be pulled.
When the blonde figured you two had made it far enough down the tunnel to talk without being heard, she quickly turned on her heel, stopping and looking at you, face screwed in displeasure.
“What the fuck was that on the field today? Why were you so aggressive?! You got carded for fuck’s sake- you don’t get carded…ever!”
Sighing, barely scrounging up the energy for the conversation, you closed your eyes, pulling your arm away from her hold.
“I played the game. That’s what I did. Fouls are part of the game,” Your voice was rigid, no fight in you, not after how horribly you’d been sleeping as of late, the argument from nights ago not only affecting the blonde.
“You played dangerously, that’s what you did! You were irresponsible, careless, and…and reckless! Not to mention selfish! Do you know how much of a difficult situation it would’ve been had you got a red? And with the way that referee was calling fouls, it’s a miracle you didn’t!”
You could’ve gotten hurt. The words go unsaid.
By now the blonde was nearly yelling, face red from frustration.
Please just let me go.
Biting the inside of your cheek to stay calm, you sighed again.
“Game’s over either way. I didn’t get a red and we won…I don’t see a problem here.” Your voice curt, you made a move to step past the midfielder.
You didn’t get far however, the other girl’s hand coming to grasp your wrist to prevent you from stepping away any further.
Stopping briefly in your tracks, you didn’t turn. You couldn’t. You couldn’t because if you did, she’d see the tears that were threatening to fall, heart exhausted.
Instead, you shake your head, tugging your arm out of her grasp and bringing it to cautiously wipe away the few tears that had escaped.
Watching your figure walk away, Leah’s face fell at your lack of care.
Dejectedly, she followed you, a fair distance away. Making her own way to the change rooms with a flurry of thoughts in her head and an ache in her chest, she swallowed the lump in her throat.
She couldn’t even blame anyone but herself.
~~~
Entering the locker room, Leah took a quick look around, the rest of the team nearly showered and changed out of their kits, save for you.
Ignoring Lia and Katie’s questioning, the blonde walked over to her locker and began to get ready to shower.
Lucky that this was a home game, Leah knew she could take her time.
Taking a quick shower, she tried to casually wait for you to finish up- well aware that you were trying to drag out your own shower, hoping that you wouldn’t cross paths with your girlfriend (ex?- you didn’t really know.)
The Gunner relented however, making up a lame excuse at Beth’s plea for her to join her on the walk out.
Patiently sitting, nearly alone in the locker room as she watched the rest of the girls file out, she waited.
She waited as the patter of water ran longer than usual.
She waited as she slowly heard it come to a stop, an eerie silence consuming the room.
She waited as you finally stepped out minutes later, wet hair tied in a messy but, club gear resting comfortably on your frame.
She waited as you realized she was still here, eyes widening as a quiet fuck escaped your lips.
Patience wearing thin now, she stood up, her own bag forgotten as she made her way to you.
“Listen-“
You didn’t even let her finish though, instead cutting her off before another word could be said, your hand held between you to keep a distance.
“Honestly? Save it.”
“No, but-“
Shaking your head, you slipped past her, beginning to quickly throw your dirty kit and toiletries into your kit bag.
Silence covered the room for a moment, only the noises of you angrily packing your kit bag to be heard.
It didn’t last long however, timid words cutting through the tense atmosphere.
“I’m sorry.”
You froze in your spot at your words, your sweaty jersey just barely dangling in your hands as you inhaled sharply.
Collecting yourself, you shook your head, Leah’s words meaning nothing to you.
“Okay.”
The blunt, one word reply of yours hit Leah harder than she anticipated, this not at all how she was expecting this conversation to go.
Swallowing hard, she stepped around you, coming to a stop a short ways away, standing between the door and you.
Wringing her hands nervously, Leah’s voice came out meek, eyes nearly downcast and heart pounding.
“Is that all you’re going to say?”
Laughing darkly at the other girl’s words, you stopped your movement again, turning around with your hands resting on your hips, a cold look in your eyes.
“What else do you want me to say?” Clenching your jaw, you gave Leah a blank look.
“I-…”
Raising her eyes to meet you, the skipper straightened her back out, nerves rising as she took note of how rigid your posture was- how distant you were from her despite only being a few feet apart.
As you realized she wasn’t going to say anything, you decided to confront her on what had been on your mind throughout the second half of the game.
“You wanna explain what I heard at half-time? Because I’d really love to hear how you plan to spin this one on me this time…”
The deer-in-headlights look you got in return let you know she knew exactly what you were talking about.
At half time, just as the players were headed back in, a young fan had nearly begged Leah to sign her jersey.
Never one to say no to a supporter of women’s soccer, much less of Arsenal and a young teen, Leah had quickly veered off, making small talk with the girl as she signed and posed for a photo.
Everything had been smooth sailing really, in fact, you watched the whole interaction with a smile on your face as you approached the tunnel.
Too bad good things never lasted.
Just as Leah had been ready to walk away from the stands, the young girl had innocently asked the question that had changed your whole mood.
The high pitched voice asking whether you and Leah were dating had easily carried over to you, repeating in your head since, a broken tape recorder you just couldn’t turn off.
What stuck with you however, was the Gunner’s response- the immediate scoff, zero hesitation or regret on her face as the words ‘absolutely not…she’s not my type’ escaped her. Words that were followed by a shrug and a cheeky grin that haunted you for the second half.
You always had a feeling you weren’t good enough for her, your insecurity a topic of conversation for many nights in the past- nights where the blonde spent countless hours convincing and proving otherwise.
Now though? Now it all felt like a lie- recollections of all those middle-of-the-night cuddles and hushed conversations making your heart heavy with the way her denial of your relationship came so quickly, so easily.
Maybe this wasn’t meant to be, not as much you had wished it was.
Since the start of your relationship, when going out, whether it was with the team or just the two of you, Leah would distance herself from you, never sitting beside you even though she claimed you two were the bestest of friends. Choosing to be anybody else’s partner during media days. Hell, even going as far as standing on the opposite side to you during pre-match photos. And you’d be lying if you said it didn’t twist the knife in your chest just a little bit more each time that it happened.
If you were honest, you didn’t know how much bigger you could let the gaping wound get, unsure of whether your heart could handle another twist.
It’s why your next words physically hurt you to say, your voice quiet, its echo ringing in your ears.
“if you’re really that embarrassed of me, maybe we shouldn’t even be together…”
A shiver runs through your spine as you continue to look at Leah.
The admission feels heavy, the bright lights of the room unable to lift the somber mood in the slightest.
You can see a shuddering breath wrack her body at your words, and you can feel the distance between you two growing, mere feet feeling like hundreds of metres, goosebumps rising as the room grows significantly colder.
The reply comes slow, but the intensity, the anger, the defence in her voice at the words nearly knocks you back.
“It’s not like that…”
The words are emotion laced, Leah’s head tilted to the side as her eyes search your face for any indication of what’s on your mind.
“Really? Then what’s it like? Is it just going to be you denying our relationship till the end? Is it just going to be you getting cozy with another girl and calling me clingy and overreactive? Is it just going to be you claiming you’ve done nothing wrong? Telling Lia that I’m going through something?”
Shaking your head, a wry smile crossed your face. “Don’t be surprised- at least Wally cared enough to make sure I was doing okay, y’know? Something you haven’t asked me once.
“I didn’t know if you wanted me near you…” The timid admission had you shaking your head, displeased with her response.
Pinching the bridge of your nose, eyes closing as you tried to hold back your frustration, you spoke.
“Thats the issue Leah….you just don’t fucking know. You don’t know what you want. You don’t know how this relationship is going to work. You don’t know when you want to tell everyone we’re together. You don’t see how much it hurts me every time you deny that we are anything more than teammates, even friends! You just so happen to not know you’re breaking my heart each and every goddamn day!”
Chest heaving in frustration, you swallowed hard, you ears heating up in embarrassment of your outburst, eyes going everywhere but to the girl in front of you.
It’s as you contemplate your next words that the blonde sees your anger turn to sadness, eyes dropping, shoulders sinking.
“You know what? I think- I think we’re done Leah.”
Your voice was a whisper, the words strained, almost as if it cut you to say them.
“I can’t do this. I really can’t…”
“Wait no…”
You shook your head, barely any energy left in you.
“How many times Leah? How many times are we gonna go back and forth like this? How long do I have to wait for you to get on the same page? It’s nearly been a year for fuck’s sake.”
Taking a deep breath, you grab your bag, your eyes firmly trained on the floor as you side step Leah and take off to your car, not once looking back.
If you had though, you would’ve seen the broken way the taller woman stood at the exit, eyes damp, body rigid in shock, fists clenched at her sides as she struggled to process what had just happened.
Being snapped out of her daze at the slam of the door shutting by its own weight, the blonde came back to reality, the weight of your words finally sinking in.
Swallowing hard as the alarm bells went off in her head, she turned on her heel, yanking the door open and running to follow you.
You are nowhere to be found though, she makes her way to the carpark, just to notice you pull out of your spot, not an ounce of hesitation in your actions.
Hearing a pair of footsteps beside her though, ones that were most definitely not yours, Leah tensed at the thought of another person’s presence where you should be standing.
Glancing over to see Lia, the English captain tightened her jaw, closing her eyes in an unsuccessful attempt to hide just how broken she felt right now.
“She told me to give this to you- said something about having an issue to attend to…” The words came out quiet from Lia, your set of keys for Leah’s home in her hold, dangling in the space between the two national captains, nearly mockingly.
Voice dropping an octave, Lia decided she had enough of the wait, eyes growing in concern at her counterpart’s disheveled look.
“Leah what’s going on between you two? She seemed pretty upset leaving…”
Swallowing, the Gunner knew she had her chance to come clean, to finally admit to herself that she hurt you, more than she ever thought she would.
Instead though, she didn’t- the idea of saying out loud that you left her too unbearably painful to speak into existence.
“I don’t know,” she shrugged instead, schooling her own expression into a somewhat relaxed one, “we didn’t talk much in the locker room, she seemed pretty stressed in there.”
Raising her eyebrows, Lia didn’t seem to buy it but she didn’t push and Leah didn’t know whether to feel relieved or not.
Grabbing the keys firmly from the Swiss’ hold, Leah turned towards the locker rooms once more, this time not bothering to wipe her tears as they fell, glad for the lack of footsteps behind her.
With no idea as to where you went or when you would be back, she had no option but to wait and hope it would be soon- soon enough that she could rectify her mistakes and make you hers again- the best thing she ever had, gone, just like that.
~
(read part ii here)
#not proofread sorry folks#not proud of this or how long it took but fuck it we ball#leah williamson x reader#leah williamson imagine#leah williamson#woso#woso fanfics#woso x reader#woso community#woso imagine#my writing#fic req#fic#hcie#angst#idk either man
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“I just moved to my new Monaco apartment, but the removal company refused to carry my mattress upstairs, you live in my building, can you help me?”
thank you, anon, for sending this prompt in and all the other prompts 🫶
It’s just the universe laughing at him, really, that he’s gone and knocked on the neighbour’s door and it opens to Carlos Sainz Jr.’s perfect fucking face. In Monaco.
Oscar doesn’t even know why he’s so surprised. It was Lando who recommended this building to him, a little away from the more busy centre of the little-big city of Monaco. He said he needed it to be subtle, he needed a little bit of air. And Lando, who thrives in the bustle and chaos of the metro, immediately went, Ah! I know the place for you, mate. Check it out? Oscar did and it was perfect. And of course, he should have known that the place was exactly to his standards and needs because Lando heard about it from Carlos, who Lando has always liked saying is very similar to Oscar in all the ways that matter but that Oscar refuses to acknowledge.
“Oscar,” Carlos says with a pleasant inflection that mollifies the brief spike in Oscar’s heart rate. “What a happy surprise. Are you living here, now?”
And Oscar just looks at him with wide eyes. Oscar is still in his crumpled airport clothes and smelling of the sun and desperate for a nap. Carlos is — His hair is a mess about his head. His cheeks are covered with scruff darker than Oscar is used to seeing. And he’s shirtless, flushed lines all over his skin like he was just in bed. And. He looks like he smells like… fresh sheets or pancakes. Luxury cologne.
“Erm. Yeah. Yes. I just moved in today, actually. Actually, I knocked because,” he cringes, “because I needed someone’s help and you were the neighbour…” And, really! He should be grateful his neighbour just so happened to be someone who actually spoke the one language he could speak and not one of the many languages he didn’t. “The moving company left my mattress downstairs and I was thinking of getting maintenance to help bring it up, but they’re all busy right now. I just. I need help.”
(Somewhere in the city, Lando Norris is laughing at him.)
Carlos patiently listens throughout his long, winding plea, and then, finally, nods, and says, “Sure. Let me just put a shirt on.”
“Right,” Oscar says.
Carlos doesn’t even bother closing his door, so Oscar stands there and tries not to watch his muscles moving as he tugs on a shirt that pulls tight around his unfortunately well-shaped biceps.
“Stairs?” he asks.
They’re not anywhere near the ground floor. So, of course, Oscar can’t turn down a challenge like that, and he says, dumbly, “Sure.”
That is how Oscar finds himself not staring at Carlos’s broad shoulders as they make their winding way down too many flights of stairs.
Oscar doesn’t even know what they talk about as they go. All he can think about is how warm it is in the stairwell, and how it makes Carlos’s lilting accent bounce around and settle into the folds of his brains. It must be the jetlag. Or the Monégasque heat. Or the insanity his sisters have always sworn he had.
When they get to the lobby, his mattress is exactly where the moving company had left it, laid mortifyingly out in the open. Thankfully, it is the middle of the day and no other residents are walking about the place to bear witness to this entire thing. Together, they haul the mattress to where it miraculously fits inside the elevator and pick up a rather lovely conversation that Oscar isn’t used to having outside a long plane-ride or at one of someone or other’s parties. What he is used to is ignoring how Carlos’s biceps bulge every time he moves or how his plush lips fall open when he breathes.
When they manoeuvre the mattress around his, actually rather sparse, furniture and onto his bedframe, Oscar is so relieved and grateful that he doesn’t even blush about his underwear lying on the floor of his room.
“Thank you,” he says, kicking a pair of Calvin Kleins behind himself. He tries for a smile. “Really appreciate it, mate.”
“It’s nothing,” Carlos shrugs.
“No, it’s really not,” he insists, leading them to the kitchen. “Actually, do you want to stay for lunch? It’s really the least I could do.”
Carlos raises his brow. “So polite?”
Oscar is about to say something smart when he abruptly shuts his mouth and spins back around from the empty fridge to face Carlos. “I. Erm.”
Carlos looks amused, eyes crinkling at the corners. Oscar can feel the heat radiating off himself.
Carlos laughs easily. “I’ll pick a place and you pay, okay?”
And Oscar nods, calm and cool. “Sure.” He can do that. It’s absolutely normal.
“I’ll drive.”
Oscar keeps nodding. “Erm. Cool.” Very cool. A ride in Carlos’s Ferrari. Nice. Cool. Chill.
But then, Carlos winks and says, “It’s a date.”
And Oscar, helpless, charmed, does not swoon. Instead, he says, “Yeah.”
#just a little silly smth!#osc is really going through it rn#it is sleep deprivation and denial <3#carcar#5581#fic#fic req#hope you like this anon HHH#posted it like this instead of replying to your ask bc i only wrote one prompt#hope you still see this anyway HHHSHSHSH
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Hiii
Would you be able to (when you have the time) write a little! reader and Mama Agatha fic where the little is trying to use magic and be big but accidentally breaks something and doesn't want to tell Agatha so they run and hide in their room, then Agatha finds them crying and comforts them. Sorry I know it is very specific I went on a bit of a tangent. Anyways all good if this idea doesn't interest you just thought I'd put it out there.
Cg!Agatha x Little!Reader - Powers
Word count: 602
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Mama had been helping you get better at using your powers for a few months now and you were really, really good. At least she always told you that. Still, you were not under any circumstances allowed to use them without Mama. Especially if you were feeling small. This was super annoying because your powers were so cool and right now you thought they would be very helpful to get the remote off the coffee table. The cartoons you’d been watching had switched to a strange show you’d never seen before and so you wanted to change it back. But you were very comfortable with your stuffies and blankies on the couch and if you could just be a big girl for a few seconds you could definitely move the remote with your powers. Carefully you used your powers to lift the remote up, you were a bit shaky as you guided it towards you but you had it under control, until you didn’t. The remote dropped right above Agatha’s favourite vase, sending it crashing off the coffee table with a loud bang. You jump at the sound, eyes widening as you see the mess you’ve made. Your mama will be so upset.
“Baby? Are you ok?” Agatha called from the kitchen. You panicked and scrambled off the couch and to your bedroom. Tears were burning in your eyes as you quickly hid under your bed covers. At least here Mama could never ever find you. You’d have to hide for a hundred years until she forgot or decided to blame the cat. You felt a bit bad though, you didn’t want to get the cat in trouble. There was a knock on the door and you pulled your covers tighter over your head. “Bunny, are you in here?” Agatha called out.
“No,” you replied, hoping to drive Mama away.
“Oh? My baby isn't here?” You shook your head firmly. Despite telling her you weren’t in your room, your Mama opened the door. “My love, where are you?” Agatha called and you burrowed under the covers further. “Well, you clearly aren’t on the bed,” Agatha sighed dramatically before reaching her hand under the covers and tickling your leg. You squealed and squirmed away from Mama’s grasp but she ripped the sheets away and pulled you into her arms. “Oh there you are!” She gasped dramatically, “I could’ve sworn someone said you weren’t in here.” You sniffled, rubbing at the tears on your cheeks. “Why were you hiding baby?” Agatha asked, her voice gentler now. She carefully pulled you into her lap, pressing gentle kisses to the tear tracks on your cheeks.
“Didn’t wanna get in trouble,” you admitted quietly, your voice wobbling.
“Oh? For using your powers?” You nod,
“And for breaking the vase.” Agatha sighed softly, carding her hand through your hair.
“Well, as far as the vase is concerned, Mama can fix that up for you in just a flick of her wrist?”
“With your purple?” You questioned eagerly.
“Yes, that’s right baby. And as for using your powers, you’re not in trouble.” You sighed a breath of relief at this. “But I need you to understand why mama says no powers without me watching. I don’t mind if something breaks, but I do mind if my baby gets hurt, ok?” You nod in understanding. Agatha gently guided your head down to rest on her chest. “You could’ve gotten hurt today and it’s mama's job to keep her baby safe which is why we have rules right?”
“Yes mama,” you hum in understanding. “Sorry mama.”
“It’s ok bunny, mama understands.”
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ok but i need an oscar piastri-leclerc fic where he isnt a leclerc because charles adopted him but because he married arthur and cha is covering for them
#might write it#probably wont#f1#formula 1#arthur leclerc#charles leclerc#oscar piastri#fic rec#fic req#get it#bc im requesting it#i need it#mclaren#ferrari#prema#ao3#rpf
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soooo... has anyone written any fics about when Evan actually tells Tommy about the lightning strike? Because I have the feels for it right now and would read it (or write it. but preferably read it).
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feral akari from @lostwysteria 's fic. I love this fic sm you don't understand. I love feral fics. can't wait till the next chapter!!! <3
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i want to write abt bagginshield but I’ve been at a roadblock for so long! decided to make a little prompt list of words to choose from :’)
I’ve never done ask/request prompts but it looks like a fun way to get into the groove of writing! So few free to send me an ask with one of the prompts below or even one of your own!
These warmups/oneshots shouldn’t be anything more than 2,500 words but who knows, sometimes even I surprise myself (ꈍᴗꈍ)
little reminder that these will be lotr/the hobbit focused but i will make exceptions for poolverine, obviously ♥(ᴖ◡ᴖ)
#the hobbit#lord of the rings#lotr#the ring#bagginshield#writing#bilbo baggins#thorin oakenshield#fanfic#requests#fic req#fic request#writing prompts#prompt list#fic prompt#prompts#plot bunny#oneshot#fanwork#jrr tolkien#ask#prompt asks#send asks#send prompts#fics#fanfics#ao3 fanfic#poolverine#logan howlett#wade wilson
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OKAY NOW THAT I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION!
to everybody still waiting on requests I promise im going to try and get them out by next week!! They might be short and even some drabbles!
Hope everyone is well and thanks for your support!!
Also look at how pretty Lizzie is 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖
#fanfic#lizzie is so hot#lizzie olsen#elizabeth olsen#fics#fic request#fic req#one shots#one shot req#requests#request#reqs open
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CANNOT stop thinking about "Daddy I can't get this open" from the new baking video. The way Phil says it is so like sincere it's wild. Dan is dismissive and joking but you can tell he's into it like goddddd. If anyone writes a fic based on it please link in the comments I'm losing my mindddd
Mr Daddy Kink Lester over here
Ooo anon claim time uh
Can I be 🐎 pony anon?
⭒
#their daddy kink is insanely obvious all the time it’s actually kinda shocking sometimes#dh + pl#fic req#pony anon
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Living in a post-apocalyptic world, modern medicine is hard to come by. After a series of panic attacks, you seek medical advice.
Jackson's one and only doctor is approaching eighty and with no magic pill he can give you for anxiety he prescribes a treatment even older than he is.
Hysterical paroxysm was a term used to describe a female orgasm in the Victoria era and was a method used by physicians to treat female hysteria which involved manually stimulating the clitoris with lubricated fingers until she reached orgasm.
Even though the doctor acknowledges this is far from an ideal solution, he still suggests you masturbate every day in order to help you relax.
With nothing to lose, you do as he advises and much to your surprise it seems to work. However, after a few weeks you start finding it harder and harder to reach your peak until one day you just can't come no matter what you do.
Worried that your panic attacks will return, you do the only thing you can think of and knock on the door of your next door neighbour to ask for his help.
Joel Miller is highly sceptical your prescribed treatment is the reason your anxiety has improved but what kind of man would he be if he turned down a lady begging for his help?
#the last of us#tlou#joel miller#joel miller x reader#fic request#hbo the last of us#pedro pascal#fic req#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fanfic#joel miller smut#joel miller x you
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i'm so furious (at you for making me feel this way)
| leah williamson x reader | a little sprinkle of angst, a little hint of fluff | 2.4k | a/n: another req! this one's based off the song 'gorgeous' by taylor swift and as usual, it's not at all proofread. honestly took a completely different direction as i was writing it but eh. to whoever requested it, my bad it took a while- hope you like it! happy reading folks!
~~~
“What? You’re not gonna say ‘hi’?”
Eyes rolling at the cocky voice directed your way, you shook your head slightly, walking faster as you ignored the woman standing in front of you.
You really didn’t have the energy to deal with this now, not after how exhausting your past few days, months, really had been.
Intending on joining the rest of your team at the table without a fuss, you brushed by her without as much as a second glance, letting out a breath as you got away.
Or so you thought.
You didn’t make it more than a couple steps past her before you felt an all too familiar hand wrap around your wrist, your moments stilling at the force.
Huffing, you didn’t bother turning around, instead choosing to speak loudly so you wouldn’t have to look at her.
“Leah, let me go…”
“Stay a minute? Let me buy you a drink.”
You could feel the smirk in her voice as she spoke, it already infuriating you as it had many times before, this time without you even having to see it.
Clenching your jaw, you dropped your voice, still looking straight ahead, nearly empty glass held precariously in your other hand.
“I’m not in the mood to talk.”
Hearing a scoff in response, you made a move to tug your wrist out of her grip, failing to do so as it instead tightened slightly.
“Not in the mood to talk, yet you’re talking to everyone here but me?”
The accusation was followed by a laugh but you knew Leah well enough to know she was anything but joking.
Turning around to meet ocean blue eyes, you pursed your lips as you narrowed your eyebrows, not in the mood for any of the midfielder’s shenanigans.
“Take it as a compliment…”
With that, you twisted your arm sharply, effectively breaking out of her hold as she held your gaze.
“And what would be the compliment exactly? You hate me enough to ignore me?”
You froze slightly as she took a step closer, letting out a shaky breath as her piercing eyes peered into yours.
Swallowing hard, mind racing with memories of when you used to look into these exact pair of eyes fondly, having been teased by your shared teammates thousands of times, you felt your heart tighten slightly, a dull ache making itself known.
Trying to seem nonchalant, you shrugged in response, your slightly intoxicated state causing the following words to slip out of your mouth before you could even think about the consequences.
“That you look so gorgeous it makes me mad you aren’t mine…” You mumbled bitterly.
The ‘anymore’ goes unsaid, but you know she heard it too, her head tilting as a small smile crossed her face.
Despite having broken up nearly a year ago, the blonde hadn’t gotten over you. No matter how many people she had met, dates she had been set up on, times she had been asked out, each and every time the English captain tried to get over you, she had failed miserably, always finding herself comparing her companion for the date to you.
It was getting ridiculous at this point really. Even if she wanted to get over you (spoiler: she didn’t), she couldn’t.
Memories of the way you’d always shoot the blonde a grin, even in the worst of times, and how you’d always beg her for piggyback rides after games unforgettable to Leah.
The countless times you had spent late nights and early mornings together, talking about nothing and everything, bodies curled up against one another as an easy air filled the room.
The innumerable times you had tried (and failed miserably) to teach the blonde how to cook, it always ending up with her banished to sit on the counter as you would try to save the catastrophe she would somehow manage to cause (and later apologise for with infinite cuddles and kisses).
It was all that was on her mind, a piece of her knowing you had been the one, the one she had and then lost.
Months of anxiously waiting for you to even be in the same room had led to tonight, dinner and drinks with your and her national teammates, the two teams having just played a friendly in London. And the blonde would be lying if she denied the fact that she had today’s date saved in her calendar since the game had been scheduled.
“Can’t bear talking to you…” you muttered the words under your breath, mind a frenzy with her perfume infiltrating your senses- the same perfume you always loved smelling on the hoodies you’d steal from her years before.
You watched as Leah’s smile disappeared at your words hushed words, a disappointed look taking over her face at your words, the hurt clearly visible.
Your heart sank as you watched the change. Realising how those words sounded, you quickly began to backpedal. Just because she wasn’t yours anymore didn’t mean you cared any less for her.
Stammering out, you blushed in embarrassment as the words fell from your lips.
And as you did, you wondered if maybe, just maybe, you should’ve stopped after the fourth drink like your friends had suggested.
“Can’t say anything to your face because every time I look at you it makes me furious that I’m not over you yet- that I still feel this way even though you’ve moved on…”
Eyes downcast as you trailed off, you curled slightly in on yourself, self-conscious of the feelings you had make known, the knowledge that they were very much one sided unsettling.
It’s why Leah’s retort caught you off guard, the softly whispered words, quiet enough that you almost missed them, tilting your world on its side.
“Who said I have…”
Whipping your head up, you watched the blonde took a sharp breath in, clearly caught off-guard by her own admission.
Almost believing her for a minute, you shook your head in disagreement.
“Pictures don’t lie Leah…the girl you were with the other day? All cozied up first at a club, then Ibiza?”
“You keep up with me.” The statement was accompanied with a cheeky grin, the other girl avoiding your question completely.
Feeling a smile creep up on you at her cheekiness, you clenched your jaw. You couldn’t believe you were falling for her charm again.
“You know what, you have a point…I’ll stop.” The cold words came out cleanly, nearly emotionless as you did your best to give her nothing to work with.
You didn’t know if you could survive falling for her again, and you didn’t want to find out.
Leah didn’t mind expressing her distaste at your statement however, the protest immediate. “You don’t have to…”
“Oh no but I do- you ruined my life you know?”
You words were emotion laced this time, mind hazy with the alcohol thrumming through your veins, a stark contrast to your sentence before- the anger you had pent up over the past year finally coming to light.
“Me?! How?”
“By loving me and then leaving me…by not being mine!”
“You were the one who left! And she’s just a friend, honest!” The Gunner put her hands up in the air, a genuine expression on her face.
Taking a quick glance behind you and then Leah, you made sure none of your teammates were eavesdropping, well aware of their tendency to blow things out of proportion.
It’s not like your relationship had been a secret, but you had just never bothered to confirm anything with anyone, too content in your own little bubble to let anyone else take a peak.
Still, you didn’t need the relentless jesting of your teammates tonight- not after the emotional rollercoaster you were currently on.
Facing the blonde again, you lowered your voice. “We were just friends too…”
The resounding ‘no’ you received was immediate, Leah’s definitive tone leaving nothing up for debate. “No we weren’t. We never were just friends. You know it.”
“Leah…”
Grabbing your wrist once more, a stern look on her face, Leah hastily pulled you to a dark corner of the bar, you both hidden in the shadows as she turned to face you, eyebrows furrowed in anger, nostrils flaring, a striking change in her demeanour.
“Don’t ‘Leah…’ me. You left. You decided that you were going to move to a whole new country without asking me. You chose a long distance relationship for us without asking me what I thought. You left me. And where did that leave us? Leave me? I can’t even go on a date with someone without thinking of you!”
By now the blonde was breathing heavily as you stared, jaw clenched as you took in her words.
“You were the one who chose to break up!”
She stepped closer to you, invading your personal space, head slightly down as she met your gaze.
“You signed the contract before we could even talk!”
“You didn’t even bother fighting for us!”
“‘Cause you didn’t even give me a chance to!“
“I-“
“You what?”
The sharp response had your eyes widening, heartbeat racing as your mind remember the chaos of last summer’s transfer window. The way you hadn’t felt at home in London wearing blue. How countless nights were spent apart from your girlfriend, the physical distance between you short, but still feeling like you were kilometres apart.
You had figured that maybe some space would’ve done you some good. It’s why you had decided to quietly sign for Wolfsburg, only telling the blonde after since she had barely been home, had barely talked to you.
Looking back now however, maybe it wasn’t your wisest decision.
Whispering quietly as the realisation hit you like a truck, your eyes widened.
“I didn’t know…”
All you got in response was the blonde stepping impossibly closer to you, your faces inches away.
“You wanna know the worst part? I hate that I still miss you everyday. I hate that I still wake up some mornings reaching out to your side of the bed. I hate that the only time I see you is when I see pictures of you online. I hate that the first time I’m seeing you in nearly a year is in a dingy bar with the rest of our drunk teammates milling around when this past year could’ve been so different for us. I hate that I can’t have you. I hate that you aren’t mine”
The frustrated words slowly morphed into those of defeat, leaving you breathless- the declaration, the sentiment of Leah’s words not lost on you. You definitely didn’t expect the night to go like this.
You didn’t know what to say, mind reeling at the fact that you weren’t the only one who hadn’t gotten over your relationship. To be fair, you didn’t know how many people got over a two, nearly three year relationship quickly, but with all the social media posts and the stories you would hear about the blonde from mutual friends, you had figured she moved on pretty quickly.
You’d clearly been wrong though.
“I-”
Pleading ocean blue eyes looking in yours, you let yourself sink and drown in the emotions swimming in the orbs.
“I-…I’m sorry.”
Swallowing hard, you contemplated on telling the blonde the news you’d been holding back for the better part of a month, the summer international season wrapping up today and giving you way to make an official announcement soon.
You saw as Leah observed you closely, her head tilting to the side as she sensed you were holding something back, her knowledge of you from when you dated not lost in the slightest.
You stared blankly as her eyes went wide, her stepping away from you as the gears in her brain turned.
“Oh my god, please don’t tell me you have a girlfriend or someth-“
Shaking your head quickly, eyes widening at the worldly incorrect guess, you placed your hands on her waist, immediately pulling her back, her warmth alluring, her presence a comfort you had missed dearly and didn’t want to lose for even a second.
“No. God, I couldn’t even if I tried. Trust me, you weren’t the only one who couldn’t move on…”
Comforting the blonde with your shared emotions of the past handful of months, you relaxed yourself, the admission lifting the weight off your shoulders, no need for you to pretend you were okay without her.
Taking a deep breath in as Leah neared your proximity once more, your hands travelling up to her shoulders as hers found purchase on your hips, you chose to ignore the somersaults your stomach was doing at finally being in Leah’s arms after so long.
Closing your eyes, terrified of the response you were going to get, you quickly blurted out what you had been holding back.
“There’s a high chance, and by high I mean nearly 99% done, of me transferring to Arsenal for the upcoming season…”
Having spent the last year with Wolfsburg, your one year contract had expired after the end of the league, you choosing not to renew when your childhood club put in an offer.
Peeking an eye open to gauge Leah’s reaction, you couldn’t stop the smile that spread on your face as you saw her eyes shine with joy, a beaming grin on her face at your words.
“Don’t lie…please…”
Shaking your head, you internally melted at how hopeful the skipper looked.
“I promise I’m not.”
At your words, you saw as her smile grew again, Leah scooping you up into her arms to hug you tightly at the news- resentment be damned- the joy of having you near drowning out any and all negative sentiments in the blink of an eye.
Feeling her grin against the crook of your neck, you rested your face against her shoulder, sinking into the familiar feeling of being her arms, a feeling you missed terribly.
And as Leah pulled back, the twinkle in her eyes paralleling the brightest stars in the sky, you smiled shyly as she rested her forehead against yours, you both silently understanding what this meant for you and for her, for you both.
It wasn’t much, nothing resolved between the two of you, at least not yet- but it was something- a starting point.
Soft smiles on both of your faces, you let yourself be led out, following behind Leah, hands gently intertwined and a glimmer of hope in your hearts.
#leah williamson x reader#leah williamson imagine#leah williamson#woso#woso fanfics#woso x reader#woso community#woso imagine#my writing#fic#fic req#angst#fluff#isf
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Carcar prompt!!
Carlos follows Oscar back on Insta randomly and Oscar is very ??? about it hehe
thank you for sending in a prompt 🫶
Oscar gets so many notifications on his public socials that he’s muted them all. That isn’t to say that he isn’t immediately informed when anything happens, because he is.
This time, it’s a message from his social media manager, who doesn’t really manage his posts, but does keep an eye out on them for the team. It goes, Just a few comments from some drivers on your latest post. And Carlos followed you back.
And Oscar’s immediate instinct is to ask, Carlos who?
Is it Carlos Alcaraz? That would be cool, but unlikely.
Even just as unlikely is Carlos Sainz Jr. following him back. But that’s just what happens.
Oscar stares at his followers list for a long moment. He isn’t on bad terms with Carlos, per se. But they’re not on — on great terms either. They just.
They talk. A lot. Carlos talks a lot, in general, and Oscar is exactly the type to goad him, so when they end up in the same vicinity — which is often, nowadays, given that they’re both living in Monaco and bumping into each other at the gym, or the padel court, or even Lando’s favourite haunts around the city — they end up talking for longer than Oscar anticipates.
And they take the same private jets. Same planes, if they’re flying commercial. They have the same friends on the grid. They go to the same gym.
It just happens. Oscar never expected it to, but it does. And somehow all those coincidences and those conversations snowball into texting on the regular and sending each other ridiculous posts from the internet and sports news clips and short messages about their very separate days. And.
Anyway. Throughout it all, Carlos never followed Oscar back on instagram. It was funny, at first (and still is, really), because Carlos would leave comments on his posts like a terrible stalker. For the first few weeks of their sort-of-friendship, Oscar doesn’t think that Carlos even knew he hadn’t been following Oscar back. But it’s since been a little joke between them.
(And imagine that, an inside joke between Oscar and Carlos Sainz Jr. Oscar was a child and spectator at one of Carlos’s rookie races. Little Oscar would have laughed in disbelief. Rookie Oscar would have also laughed in disbelief, in, albeit, a mildly different manner.)
So, now. Oscar is up at an unreasonable time, lounging in his underwear, in the middle of his messy room, and staring at the carlossainz55 in his followers list.
What the fuck.
He needs a sympathetic ear.
🏎🏎
“Okay?” Logan is not at all sympathetic. “And, uh, how does that make you feel?”
“I’m. Normal about it.”
“If you were normal about it, you wouldn’t have called me about it at,” a rustle and a sigh, “three in the morning about it. Mate, I have a meeting in, like, four hours.”
“Logan, please.”
“Call Fred or something.”
“No!” Oscar immediately protests. “And no calling Lando either. They’ll just tell me to— to smooch him or something.”
Another pause. “Well, mate, I don’t know what to tell you, but I personally think that if you’re thinking about ‘smooching’ someone at three in the morning, then you should probably do that.”
Oscar groans. “Fuck you, too.”
“Cheers,” Logan says brightly, then hangs up on him.
Oscar groans again.
🏎🏎
He finally gives in to his little lizard hindbrain and pulls up his messages with Carlos.
So you’re finally signing up to seeing me on your timeline regularly?
He stares at his screen with some shock at his own audacity. What is he—
A buzz. And a reply from Carlos.
Much easier than me going to look for your account every time I want to see you, yes?
Oscar stares some more.
Carefully, he places his phone screen-down on his bed. Looks up at the ceiling.
He can feel his heart in his throat.
Well.
Well.
#and then like an idiot oscar sends him a selfie#and his face is pink in it and not very happy at all#and he doesn't even know what possessed him to send it#but carlos sends back a smiley#and then a selfie on his own#and oscar goes to bed smiling that night/early morning#carcar#5581#fic#fic req#askbox#i wanted to make osc stand up and tell carlos take him out on a date if he wanted to see him so badly#but unfortunately our osc is currently going through a crisis
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Steve has a date on Christmas Eve and is waiting for them at the restaurant. Bucky works at the restaurant and he doesn’t want to go to his friend's party after work. When Steve realises he’s been stood up, he asks Bucky out... and he says yes.
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I read a Stucky fic a while back where Steve and Bucky were rugby players, and Steve was older than Bucky. But my had traveled to watch Steve play.
I can't remember who wrote it, but I desperately want to read it again. Help!
I’m not sure if I know any where they’re specifically rugby players, but there are a few American Football fics in the Sports Category in The Library
If anyone knows which fic is being requested, please shoot me through a link!
Apparently The Library is undergoing technical difficulties right now but a couple of people have answered with He's Out of My League by humapuma, roadsidelunatic (which is actually listed in The Library 🤦♀️)
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"Call 911! What are you waiting for?! The kid's fucking OD'ing!"
"We should've known, he freaked out when I gave him the water pitcher and-"
"Not now, come on, DO SOMETHING!"
The air around grew tense, and the commotion had started to alert all of the diner's patrons. It all started when a young adult entered and started doing and saying strange things before collapsing. There were even some customers that left because of the disruption. It was clearly starting to get horrible, and some of them even wondered if they were going to see someone die tonight.
As Lilliana called for the ambulance, Charlie shook the kid by the shoulders, trying to get him to focus on him.
"It's alright boy, I got you, I...", the chef paused as the sight of the boy really disheartened him. The kid's head was hanging limply on his shoulders. His eyes were unfocused, almost glazed over. His mouth... oh dear his mouth... it was expelling foamy spit as his body shook and jerked around.
It almost looked like he was a lost cause. Perhaps... he is.
Charlie held back tears, biting his cheek as he held the boy and tried to steady him. He could see the light leave his eyes by the second, and he doubts there's any way of saving him. Pierce's body was practically lifeless at this point.
"He's dead...", he mutters to himself. Lilliana hears this, and she turns her head to him, pausing the call.
"What..?"
Seconds pass, moments wasted where something could've been done. But then, a sudden nag struck their minds, a sudden thought that seemed like theirs but... not. It sounded like a mentor reprimanding someone, disappointment evident in the tone.
Shit, he may actually die at this rate. Do something!
And with that, they go back to trying to save this kid. This stranger who they were determined on keeping safe.
As he tried to get the boy to expel as much medicine as he could, Charlie screamed sentences that would probably fall on deaf ears.
"Just hold on a little bit more, kid! I got you! Don't die, please!"
And in those moments, Lilliana could almost see his eyes focus for a split-second.
#lounging in the cabin#cabin tales#asked and answered#ask game#pierce cabin tales#tw overdose#fic req#//btw Lilliana is the waitress and Charlie is the chef
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