#i have been to la once and i only left the car to go to a rstaurant this would Not End Well

[annaphoenix1994]

Cartel Protection

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

»»-------¤-------««

I clutched my M4 in my left hand as Soap and I exited the plane to our assigned destination – Las Almas, Mexico. Never once have I had a good memory in Mexico. In fact, I hated it. Hated everything about it, and I let one horrible memory ruin the experience for me. 2006 was the worst year of my life, going into 2007 with traumatic post-stress and severe anger problems. Manual Roba. Fuck, that name made my chest ache and phantom pain spread across my lower ribcage.

Failed brainwashing and months of torture is all I'm going to say about it.

Likely that it would never happen again considering I killed the man myself, I forced myself to think of my assignment ahead to keep my anxiety at bay. For once, I focused on Soap's social butterfly behavior, already irritated that he began making friends before we went out on a mission. "Alejandro!" He smiled at him, extending his hand out for the man to shake.

"Sergeant MacTavish." Alejandro replied, shaking his hand firmly, and I was relieved that he didn't try to shake my hand because I was in no mood to make friends, nor was I in the mood to talk. I was an observer, not a talker.

"Call me Soap."

Then, Alejandro's interest turned to me, looking me up and down as if I was a potential threat because of my face covering, and if that's what it took to keep my identity hidden, then so be it. I was here for one task: to find this terrorist, not make friends or take part in small talk. "Lieutenant, Laswell says they call you Ghost."

"Actually, I think he prefers to be called—"

"That'll do!" I barked at Soap, my irritation turning to full on anger when he said that. I didn't know what he was going to say, but he should've known better, but here he was pushing my buttons like he always did.

Why couldn't the old man send Garrick with me?

Alejandro breathed a laugh at the sudden awkwardness, "Welcome to the city of souls."

Well, isn't that fitting?

"I've never been to Mexico." Soap commented as we followed Alejandro towards a fleet of vehicles.

"This isn't México, this is Las Almas."

Same bloody difference.

"Shepherd's contractors are inbound to reinforce. They're bringing hardware. They'll need room." I informed him.

"My base is your base."

"Good. Now, where's Hassan?"

"Cartel safe house ten klicks from here. Get in."

I huffed when I tried to take a deep breath through my mask, setting my M4 between my knees as I continued to eye my surroundings. I couldn't trust anybody, especially in a country that I despised the most due to my past, I couldn't help the morbid thought of being put through the same thing again rising into my consciousness. Except this time, I was far more prepared to protect myself and Soap if I needed to. Even if the bloke did get on my nerves 99.9% of the time, he was still a partner on my team, and he was on my watch. If he couldn't fight back, then I'd fight for him. "This is my second in command, Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra." Alejandro introduced him, the grip on the steering wheel tightening when he saw my appearance through the rear-view mirror.

"Tengo miedo de los fantasmas. (I'm afraid of ghosts.)" He mumbled.

I know what you said, bastard. I wanted to retort back so bad, but I wasn't going to let my anger and hateful attitude take the better of me this time. I watched Alejandro smirk at Rudolfo before looking back at us, "You know Spanish?"

"...No." Soap replied. Again, Alejandro never once looked at me for an answer, except I felt like he had caught on to my behavior as to only talk to me when he needed to, not when he wanted to.

"You will."

We left the base in a three-car convoy, a short drive taking us into the small and cramped town of Las Almas. It would've been a lovely place if blood didn't literally liter the streets. Gore and vandalism were a primary appearance so far, clearly taking away what I was sure was a peaceful town at some point. It looked like it could've been a place for seniors to retire, but now, it looked like a destination hot spot for drug lords, cartels, gangs, and criminals from all over.

Soap was looking out through his window, watching a truck pass by that was going the opposite direction, a group of armed men sitting in the back going about their day. "White truck – four armed in the back." He mumbled to me, but I didn't move as I didn't sense any hostility from the truck that passed by. For some odd reason, it felt like seeing armed cartel driving around was normal, not taboo.

"Hey, tranquilo, easy. That's normal here," Alejandro advised, and Soap lowered his weapon. "Guns on the street is a jurisdiction of the police."

"Where are the police?" I questioned, my curiosity getting the better of me. As much as I didn't want to talk, I felt like I needed to make Alejandro talk in order to get a sense of his character if I was going to work alongside him.

"Well, Las Almas has a very serious problem. There are a few here to uphold the law and many of those who resist corruption... disappear."

"What about the military?"

"Well, because we are well-trained, soldiers are recruited by the Narcos."

"Why not you?"

Alejandro shrugged, looking over at Rudolfo, "We grew up here. They call us Los Vaqueros – cowboys. We love this place, and we will die fighting for it."

I sighed through my nose as I looked to my left to the open area of the town, seeing a bunch of children and their mother at what looked like a food stand, except what was supposed to a normal picture turned dark when I saw a man with a skull printed balaclava clutching a machine gun in his hands as if he was standing guard.

Soap chuckled, "Kids, guns, and balloons, that's a new one."

I didn't think it was quite funny, and Soap could see that on my face as I stared at him blankly. I was definitely not in the mood for jokes, either.

"Narcos use generosity to win over the people."

"Even the children?" Soap questioned.

"Especially the children." Rudolfo answered.

Well, that's fucked up.

The car stopped, and I immediately grew anxious. Why would we stop on a littered street of people where the majority had weapons? We're sitting ducks at this point, and I realized with a quick glance towards the front of us that there were pedestrians crossing the road. I looked to my right, seeing – and smelling – the two bodies covered by white sheets in the narrow alley. "What's on those sheets?" Soap asked.

"Norcomantas..." Rudolfo mumbled.

Speak English for the lad, would you?

"Cartel cloths. Messages from El Sin Nombre. Warnings, marking territory... Our streets are laced with death."

Yeah, I see that.

"Who's Sin Nombre?" I questioned.

"El Sin Nombre,"

Same fucking difference.

"The nameless. The leader of the Las Almas Cartel."

"Where can we find him?"

"You can't. Nobody knows who he is, but he is everywhere, and this is a challenge, but Los Vaqueros like challenges."

"With your mask, you will fit in well here, Ghost."

Hope your joke was funny to you, just wait until you hear mine.

I was satisfied when I watched Rudolfo's stupid smirk fall from his face before I could even say anything due to Alejandro stopping him. "Tranquilo, Rudolfo. Hey, checkpoint, it's the Army. Turn right, we'll go around."

"Why?"

"Some troops are in the pocket of El Sin Nombre. Like I told you, he is everywhere. The cartel is hiding Hassan in the village across the river according to our eyes on the inside."

"Who is that?"

"Case Officer Dutton. She will be helping us find Hassan and take him down. She's doing reconnaissance at the perimeter of the village. We get there, partner up with her, and get out with our target."

"American? Never heard that last name before." Soap guessed.

"Aye. Sent by Laswell. We've worked with her before. She's Laswell's second in command."

"I think I've talked to her before, then. I remember that last name now. Called me about the missile we found in Al Mazrah." Soap rambled.

"Probably. If she can't find a hit on Hassan, then we're out of luck. When the F.B.I needs help finding someone, Dutton is who Laswell sends."

Soap chuckled before nudging my elbow, and I knew exactly by the look on his face that he was excited about the fact of working alongside a woman. "Badass, eh?"

I shared the same glance of curiosity, but I could care less about working with a woman or not. Although I didn't agree that women needed to work in a man's world, if she could do it, then all the power to her.

»»-------¤-------««

Armed and ready, I was second to exit the car before we regrouped with Alejandro, who was directing his team. "Líderes de equipo, formen un círculo a mi alrededor. Armas calientes, Vaqueros. (Team leaders, circle up around me. Weapons hot, Vaqueros.)" He directed.

"Where are they holding Hassan?" Soap questioned, standing beside me with his M4 ready.

"Stand by," Alejandro held up his finger. 

I watched Alejandro reply with a subtle smirk. "Love that woman. White two-story building, back of town. Our partner is on the roof of the second largest building. Do not fire up top if you see movement."

"What does she even look like?" Soap asked, and again, I knew that he wasn't asking to prevent a fatal shot, but because he was always a horn-dog when it came to working with a woman. Before earning the callsign Soap, I addressed him as Barracks Bunny for the longest time. The lad got around when I first met him, and I wouldn't be surprised if he still did. Regardless, he always tried if he liked what he saw. I couldn't lie and say I wasn't curious myself as I had never worked alongside a woman before on the battlefield, and the soft part of me liked the sound of her voice, but I forced myself to keep my thoughts strictly tactical as I had a job to do.

"You'll know her when you see her. Let's move. Switch to channel seven."

We moved to the gate that she had said she gained entry, confirming it was clear before we pushed in, Soap and Alejandro taking point as we swept the first quarter of the area before making our way to another gate, Soap throwing a frag over the gate after he confirmed with Alejandro that he heard multiple footsteps on the other side. 

I heard her warn us, and the hateful part of me wanted to reply saying that I knew what I was doing, but I again refused to be a hateful prick when it came to addressing a woman. My mum raised me to always talk to a woman with decency and respect, regardless of their line of work. Even if this lass was to curse at me and slap me, I'd never raise my hand. Maybe say a couple of hateful comments, but never raise my hand.

She'd roll in her grave if I were to disrespect a woman.

I took a moment to wonder what this woman looked like. She seemed relentless already, which caught my attention. Perhaps it was because I haven't been touched by a woman in years because of my job, well, not in a serious relationship type of way. I had blown off steam with hookups occasionally when back home, but I made it clear that it was only just that and nothing serious. Her naturally soothing voice didn't help my wondering thoughts, either.

Get your fucking head right, Simon!

"Window! Window!" Soap shouted, he and I aiming our weapons to take out the hiding cartel members in the small shack.

We made our way to a claustrophobic alleyway between two houses, Soap and I taking out more cartel members that had managed to sneak up on the roof. We shot two of them, but we failed to see the third that was hidden behind a chimney. Before I could even get into cover and fire my shot, the man fell from the roof and down onto the ground in front of me, a large hole through his neck.

I looked up, seeing her laying down on the roof, a proud smirk on her face before she nodded at me, quickly getting up to keep on her path.

She saved my life, and I finally had a glimpse of her.

And by what I could see, she was far too gorgeous for this type of occupation, and I'd never have a chance.

Soap was going to lose his bloody mind when he finally got to see her, seeing what he could do to snag her for himself, but a part of me knew that she'd be a hard one to impress, which was something Soap severely lacked. The lad was impatient when it came to impressing a woman, wanting to move too fast into a new relationship. When he realized this, he just turned to hookups.

"Push forward! Let's clear this house, then get to Hassan!"

"Cartel will move him fast since they know we're here." I grumbled.

"Then we move faster," Alejandro replied, using the stock of his rifle to bust open the door. "Going in."

Soap and I followed him in, our M4's ready to fire as we approached a narrow hallway. "Watch the door on the right." I whispered to Soap in front of me, watching him throw in a flashbang before shooting the man hiding inside.

"Good shots, Hermano." Alejandro praised.

We cleared the rest of the house, making our way upstairs to clear the master bedroom, the only sign of Hassan being his flag hanging on the wall in front of the desk. 

"Quds Force, that's his flag." I pointed towards the Iranian flag on the wall, looking through the papers on the desk while we took a few seconds to ensure our weapons were loaded while the smoke was deploying outside.

"So, he was here."

"Colonel's intel was good, but he got away." I sighed.

"Her intel is always good," Alejandro chuckled. "Just bad timing."

She replied, unaware that her compliment made Soap blush due to the lack of compliments from a woman in a while.

It didn't go unnoticed as I grew jealous fairly easily in general, but I assumed it was always a man's nature to grow jealous of a compliment that wasn't given to them, but to someone else other than them.

I took cover before looking out the window, watching her climb down the back of the building she was on to run through an alley that opened towards the woods, a sniper rifle in her hand. 

We watched her get close to the group, a sly smirk on her face as she picked up a large rock before throwing it towards thick brush in the woods in the opposite direction, alerting the group of soldiers into thinking that the sound came from their enemy, giving her enough time to deploy the explosive. Smart woman.

We made haste in falling back as advised, especially when we learned that the closest band of enemy soldiers deployed gas into the house we took cover in. 

Kiera... That's her name. A beautiful name to match a beautiful face. Fuck, Simon! Get your bloody head right! I was eager to get a closer look at her, but I had to push that thought aside to prevent myself from getting distracted. Let's face it, I was already distracted, and all this woman was doing was her job.

We retreated downwards into heavy trees. Soap turned to look behind him when he heard footsteps approaching from behind, his gaze locking onto her when she ran between us and slowed down to match Alejandro's stride, Soap shooting me a curious gaze. Fuck, she's short. She comes up to my sternum. How can someone so small be talked highly as dangerous? Perhaps I'll find out.

"There's a bridge at the river. Extraction will be there," Alejandro informed us before looking at her. "Still in one piece? Glad to see it!"

"Yeah, me too," She scoffed. "Haven't been here for a full three days and I've been in more fights than I've slept."

"Trouble seems to always find you."

"You're tellin' me!"

"Contact! RPG!" I shouted, the familiar whistle of the weapon coming from the top of the hill. The RPG hit in front of us, a huge wall of dirt and smoke rising from its target. As we moved to take cover, an enemy darted out from behind the boulder Kiera was heading for, aiming his weapon at her, and I immediately risked my own safety to return the favor by saving her life.

But she beat me to it.

That's right, this lass grabbed the tip of the enemy's rifle with rapid speed before he could pull the trigger, using her foot to kick him between the legs to give her time to jerk the weapon from his grasp, turning it around to aim at him before she killed him with his own weapon and took his magazines for herself as it was the same weapon she had. Fucking hell, I think I'm aroused.

Goddammit, Simon! Get your head right and get to cover! You're no better than Soap right now! 

"Army on the ridgeline!" Soap shouted, he and I aiming up top to eliminate them to buy us more time. Only a dozen soldiers showed up this time, giving our team time to make quick work of them before retreating towards the river.

"We're going to have to jump here!" Alejandro shouted, stopping at the edge of a six-foot gap separating us from the other side to safety and borrowed time.

"Can we even make that?" Kiera asked.

"Do or die, Ditch."

"I hate when you tell me that." She huffed.

"Wait, did he just call you a bitch?" Soap questioned. 

"No, Ditch is my callsign because it's frowned upon to say "bitch" over the comm, and it's fitting because I am a bitch. Echo 3-1 is just easier to remember." 

"It's an inside joke," Alejandro laughed, "Use those little legs, frog. You can make it."

"Only one way to find out," She shrugged. "I'm not going first, though."

"I'll go first, scaredy-cat." He teased before making the leap, and it looked rather easy. Kiera's jaw dropped briefly before turning back to look at us, "Well, if I fall, it was nice to meet you."

Not a chance you're going to fall, love, I thought. Suddenly, I was appreciative of my concealed identity when the eye contact she made with me made my chest burn.

I could see her nervousness as she slung her rifle to sit across her back, and I was able to realize that it wasn't the distance that scared her, but the fall.

My breath hitched when I watched her jump, laughing as she slid down the slope before Alejandro stopped her, laughing with her before he teased her again, "Look at you, jumping like a frog! Wish you could've seen the look on your face!"

"No, I don't."

Soap and I made our way across, halting at the hum of an incoming helo. "Incoming heli..."

"Get into a firing position. We'll take them by surprise."

"Which way to the bridge?"

"Straight ahead. Past the helo," Alejandro answered, ducking down behind a rock as more fire erupted from the cliffside. "Weapons free!"

"Fuck, they're coming in like roaches!" Kiera shouted, taking cover next to me while Soap was with Alejandro.

"Top of the hill and down the cliff is the bridge! Let's move! Watch your backs – could have shooters positioned." He warned after we neutralized our enemy.

"Ah, fuck," She sighed, looking down at the cliffside. "You always have me facing my fears every time I'm with you, Alejandro."

"Don't even think about it, just do it," He chuckled, jumping down to the rock below. "You're really going to hate me after seeing what we have to cross."

Even I was nervous to cross this narrow ledge that led us to another cliff to take cover on, the drop being a two-hundred-foot first class ticket to the rapids below – a sure fatality.

She huffed, following his lead and ignoring the sharp pain in her knees she made obvious by the groan that followed when she landed. She waited on Soap and I to jump down before beginning her trek across the narrow ledge, pressing her back against the rock wall before being startled by an enemy sniper. The bullet hit closer to me than her, but she crossed with a quick pace before taking cover behind a rock, setting her rifle on top before adjusting her scope quickly, sighing before she squeezed the trigger, taking out the sniper and again preventing either Soap or me from losing our lives. "Sniper down!"

"Bloody good shot, love." I complimented her, waiting for Soap to cross before we moved forward, the short ledge ending to a literal drop into the water below. "You led us to a dead end, mate!"

"We jump from here. Don't lose your weapons!"

Yeah, she was definitely going to hate this.

Everyone was afraid of something, and it didn't take me long to realize that her fear was falling, perhaps even heights. I couldn't blame her, though, because the thought of falling into a body of water without knowing what laid beneath was terrifying. "Your turn, Sergeant." I said to Soap, making him go first to ensure that I was keeping him safe by providing cover fire, and the jealous part of me sending him before me to keep him from coaxing her into jumping. "Your turn, love."

She huffed a deep breath, gasping when she peered her head over the edge. I could feel her anxiousness, but we were running out of time. "I'll be right behind you. Cross your ankles and keep your body straight. Won't hurt as bad."

"That's comforting."

"Beats getting shot and falling," I shrugged. "Don't think about it. Just do it. Could've been over with by now." The wind blew her scent on me, and aside from the sweat, I could smell the sweet scent of her body wash, and it drove me insane. I stood behind her before I turned to follow the sound of upcoming footsteps, seeing the shadow of an enemy soldier approaching. Fuck, I had to make her jump now.

I didn't hesitate as I grabbed her hand, "Don't let go!" I shouted, leaping from the edge and dragging her along with me, hearing the whisp of a bullet fly past my ear as we fell. She gasped in fear before we hit the water, and as much as the impact stung, I refused to let go of her hand until we broke the surface. I could hear her release a breath under the water, a groan of pain following as I pulled her to the surface. "You alright? Think I heard something crack."

"Probably my fucking leg!" She groaned. "That's one way of making someone conquer their fears."

I shook my head, huffing out a laugh before I pulled her in front of me, using my body as a shield before I removed my pistol, taking two shots towards the cliffside before I watched the enemy fall to his death.

"Everyone alive?"

"Breathing." Kiera grumbled, taking cover behind a rock.

"Looks like we have some time before more reinforcements come in. There's a bridge up ahead. Let the river carry us until we need cover. It'll get shallow when we get closer to the bridge." Alejandro explained.

We stayed close to the rocks that lined the shore, keeping our weapons ready. I was sure that Kiera's adrenaline kept her from focusing on the pain of her leg by how she struggled to swim, so I made sure to fall back to keep my pace up with her as she was the most vulnerable out of the four of us. We saw vehicles lining the bridge up ahead, and I was quick to realize that those vehicles weren't with us...

"Fuck! It's the Army! We'll have to hold here and get extraction!" Alejandro shouted, taking cover behind another rock once we reached shallow water.

"I'm aiming for the fuel tanks of the trucks!" Kiera shouted, setting her rifle on the top of the rock, taking two shots before one of the vehicles exploded, killing four soldiers that were surrounding it.

"Commander Graves. Shadow Company. They're with us," I answered, thankful to have him covering us. 

"Let's roll." Soap groaned, wiping his hand through his mohawk, ridding it of water.

[vagueconfusion]

*on hands and knees* what do you MEAN Creeper is on tour in the U.S. right now and I didn't know and they're nowhere near the midwest

[mostlysignssomeportents]

"Efficiency" left the Big Three vulnerable to smart UAW tactics

Tomorrow (September 22), I'm (virtually) presenting at the DIG Festival in Modena, Italy. Tomorrow night, I'll be in person at LA's Book Soup for the launch of Justin C Key's "The World Wasn’t Ready for You." On September 27, I'll be at Chevalier's Books in Los Angeles with Brian Merchant for a joint launch for my new book The Internet Con and his new book, Blood in the Machine.

It's been 143 days since the WGA went on strike against the Hollywood studios. While early tactical leaks from the studios had studio execs chortling and twirling their mustaches about writers caving once they started losing their homes, the strikers aren't wavering – they're still out there, pounding the picket lines, every weekday:

https://www.cnbc.com/2023/08/09/how-hollywood-writers-make-ends-meet-100-days-into-the-writers-guild-strike.html

The studios obviously need writers. That gleeful, anonymous studio exec who got such an obvious erotic charge at the thought of workers being rendered homeless as punishment for challenging his corporate power completely misread the room, and his comments didn't demoralize the writers. Instead, they inspired the actors to go on strike, too.

But how have the writers stayed out since May Day? How have the actors stayed out for 69 days since their strike started on Bastille Day? We can thank the studios for that! As it turns out, the studios have devoted so much energy to rendering creative workers as precarious as possible, hiring as little as they can getting away with and using punishing overtime as a substitute for adequate staffing that they've eliminated all the workers who can't survive on side-hustles and savings for six or seven months at a time.

But even for those layoff-hardened workers, long strikes are brutal, and of course, all the affiliated trades, from costumers to grips, are feeling the pain. The strike fund only goes so far, and non-striking, affected workers don't even get that. That's why I've been donating regularly to the Entertainment Community Fund, which helps all affected workers out with cash transfers (I just gave them another $500):

https://secure2.convio.net/afa/site/Donation2?df_id=8117&8117.donation=form1&mfc_pref=T

As hot labor summer is revealed as a turning point – not just a season – long strikes will become the norm. Bosses still don't believe in worker power, and until they get their minds right, they're going to keep on trying to starve their workforces back inside. To get a sense of how long workers will have to hold out, just consider the Warrior Met strike, where Alabama coal-miners stayed out for 23 months:

https://www.thenation.com/article/activism/warrior-met-strike-union/

As Kim Kelly explained to Adam Conover in the latest Factually podcast, the Alabama coal strikers didn't get anywhere near the attention that the Hollywood strikers have enjoyed:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UvyMHf7Yg0Q

(To learn more about the untold story of worker organizing, from prison unions to the key role that people of color and women played in labor history, check out Kelly's book, "Fight Like Hell," now in paperback:)

https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Fight-Like-Hell/Kim-Kelly/9781982171063

Which brings me to the UAW strike. This is an historic strike, the first time that the UAW has struck all of the Big Three automakers at once. Past autoworkers' strikes have marked turning points for all American workers. The 1945/46 GM strike established employers' duty to cover worker pensions, health care, and cost of living allowances. The GM strike created the American middle-class:

https://prospect.org/labor/2023-09-18-uaw-strikes-built-american-middle-class/

The Big Three are fighting for all the marbles here. They are refusing to allow unions to organize EV factories. Given that no more internal combustion cars will be in production in just a few short years, that's tantamount to eliminating auto unions altogether. The automakers are flush with cash, including billions in public subsidies from multiple bailouts, along with billions more from greedflation price-gouging. A long siege is inevitable, as the decimillionaires running these companies earn their pay by starving out their workers:

https://www.businessinsider.com/general-motors-ceo-mary-barra-salary-auto-workers-strike-uaw-2023-9

The UAW knows this, of course, and their new leadership – helmed by the union's radical president Shawn Fain – has a plan. UAW workers are engaged in tactical striking, shutting down key parts of the supply chain on a rolling basis, making the 90-day strike fund stretch much farther:

https://prospect.org/blogs-and-newsletters/tap/2023-09-18-labors-militant-creativity/

In this project, they are greatly aided by Big Car's own relentless pursuit of profit. The automakers – like every monopolized, financialized sector – have stripped all the buffers and slack out of their operations. Inventory on hand is kept to a bare minimum. Inputs are sourced from the cheapest bidder, and they're brought to the factory by the lowest-cost option. Resiliency – spare parts, backup machinery – is forever at war with profits, and profits have won and won and won, leaving auto production in a brittle, and easily shattered state.

This is especially true for staffing. Automakers are violently allergic to hiring workers, because new workers get benefits and workplace protection. Instead, the car companies routinely offer "voluntary" overtime to their existing workforce. By refusing this overtime, workers can kneecap production, without striking.

Enter "Eight and Skate," a campaign among UAW workers to clock out after their eight hour shift. As Keith Brower Brown writes for Labor Notes, the UAW organizers are telling workers that "It’s crossing an unofficial picket line to work overtime. It’s helping out the company":

https://labornotes.org/2023/09/work-extra-during-strike-auto-workers-say-eight-and-skate

Eight and Skate has already started to work; the Buffalo Ford plant can no longer run its normal weekend shifts because workers are refusing to put in voluntary overtime. Of course, bosses will strike back: the next step will be forced overtime, which will lead to the unsafe conditions that unionized workers are contractually obliged to call paid work-stoppages over, shutting down operations without touching the strike fund.

What's more, car bosses can't just halt safety stoppages or change the rules on overtime; per the UAW's last contract, bosses are required to bargain on changes to overtime rules:

https://uaw.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/Working-Without-Contract-FAQ-FINAL-2.pdf

Car bosses have become lazily dependent on overtime. At GM's "highly profitable" SUV factory in Arlington, TX, normal production runs a six-days, 24 hours per day. Workers typically work five eight-hour days and nine hours on Saturdays. That's been the status quo for 11 years, but when bosses circulated the usual overtime signup sheet last week, every worker wrote "a big fat NO" next to their names.

Writing for The American Prospect, David Dayen points out that this overtime addiction puts a new complexion on the much-hyped workerpocalypse that EVs will supposedly bring about. EVs are much simpler to build than conventional cars, the argument goes, so a US transition to EVs will throw many autoworkers out of work:

https://prospect.org/labor/2023-09-20-big-threes-labor-shortages-uaw/

But the reality is that most autoworkers are doing one and a half jobs already. Reducing the "workforce" by a third could leave all these workers with their existing jobs, and the 40-hour workweek that their forebears fought for at GM inn 1945/46. Add to that the additional workers needed to make batteries, build and maintain charging infrastructure, and so on, and there's no reason to think that EVs will weaken autoworker power.

And as Dayen points out, this overtime addiction isn't limited to cars. It's also endemic to the entertainment industry, where writers' "mini rooms" and other forms of chronic understaffing are used to keep workforces at a skeleton crew, even when the overtime costs more than hiring new workers.

Bosses call themselves job creators, but they have a relentless drive to destroy jobs. If there's one thing bosses hate, it's paying workers – hence all the hype about AI and automation. The stories about looming AI-driven mass unemployment are fairy tales, but they're tailor made for financiers who get alarming, life-threatening priapism at the though of firing us all and replacing us with shell-scripts:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/09/autocomplete-worshippers/#the-real-ai-was-the-corporations-that-we-fought-along-the-way

This is why Republican "workerism" rings so hollow. Trump's GOP talks a big game about protecting "workers" (by which they mean anglo men) from immigrants and "woke captialism," but they have nothing to say about protecting workers from bosses and bankers who see every dime a worker gets as misappropriated from their dividend.

Unsurprisingly, conservative message-discipline sucks. As Luke Savage writes in Jacobin, for every mealymouthed Josh Hawley mouthing talking points that "support workers" by blaming China and Joe Biden for the Big Three's greed, there's a Tim Scott, saying the quiet part aloud:

https://jacobin.com/2023/09/republicans-uaw-strike-hawley-trump-scott/

Quoth Senator Scott: "I think Ronald Reagan gave us a great example when federal employees decided they were going to strike. He said, you strike, you’re fired. Simple concept to me. To the extent that we can use that once again, absolutely":

https://twitter.com/American_Bridge/status/1704136706574741988

The GOP's workerism is a tissue-thin fake. They can never and will never support real worker power. That creates an opportunity for Biden and Democrats to seize:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/18/co-determination/#now-make-me-do-it

Reversing two generations of anti-worker politics is a marathon, not a sprint. The strikes are going to run for months, even years. Every worker will be called upon to support their striking siblings, every day. We can do it. Solidarity now. Solidarity forever.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/21/eight-and-skate/#strike-to-rule

[emeraldgreenbeautiesstu]

written for this request : matt x hooters girl, i’m thinking the triplets are recurring customers that only come to see her because matt thinks she’s hot. (pls pls pls pls! make it smutty!)

warnings : dom!matt, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), oral (male receiving) degradation, public (kinda?) sex.

lowercase intended.

a/n : this is my first time writing smut so right now i'm just testing out the waters, thanks for the request! and as always, feedback is appreciated!

-

y/n had been working at a hooters in la for about four months and it was definitely an interesting job. and it paid good. she tended to rack up the most tips out of all of her coworkers, being the hottest one. She had double d’s and a nice ass, as well as sunkissed skin, and caramel brown hair. she was used to old shriveled patrons hitting on her by now, but she wasn't used to younger people coming in as much. but recently, a group of three men had been coming in about once a week for about a month and a half now, and the change of scenery was a big step up from the wrinkly perverts who she typically served. she recognized the boys to be youtubers, the sturniolo triplets. y/n had never watched their videos, but she knew enough about them to know they post the videos in their car, and that 12 year old girls go crazy over them.

y/n was nearing the end of her shift with only two hours left, when the hot regulars walked in. she found them all attractive, but the quiet one was her favorite. she watched as they sat in her section as they always do, smiling to herself. y/n made her way to their table, swaying her hips and making her tits bounce slightly as she pulled out her notepad and pen. it was a tactic she used to get more tips. “hey yall, welcome to hooters! can i get yall something to drink?” her sweet southern accent rang out.

the one she recognized to be nick spoke up saying, “i'll have a dr. pepper, and they'll have pepsis.” he said, pointing to his brothers. y/n noticed the one she recognized as matt had moved his hand to his pants, readjusting as he tried not to look at her. she smiled, loving the effect she had on him. shed be lying if she said she didnt think about him fucking her.

“ sure honey, ill be right back with that.” she walked away, making sure to ‘accidentally’ brush matts arm with her hip as she walked away.

time had past and the boys had gotten their food. y/n had passed their table, after teasing matt all night, brushing his hand as she gave him refills, hitting his shoulder when she laughed, etc. she soon noticed that matt had gotten up behind her. “im sorry did i forget something?” she said, turning around.

“something like that.” he grumbled, motioning for her to follow him as he walked past her. he led her to the back room, and pinned her against the wall, hands on either side of her head. “if you wanna act like a little slut all night, ill treat you like one.” he growled, not breaking eye contact. the breath hitched in y/ns throat, as she nodded. he broke away to lock the door. “knees.” matt said, sitting in a chair and manspreading, the bulge in his tight pants was extremely visible. she nodded, clenching her legs before getting on her knees, feeling matts gaze burning her skin. she unbuckled his belt, looking up to meet his eyes. she undid his pants and moved his boxers, his dick springing up to hit his stomach. he was big. “how bad do you want it sweetheart.” he inquired with his boston accent more prominent on the word 'sweetheart'.

“bad. so so bad.” y/n said, reaching for his aching member. she wrapped a hand around it, slowly pumping up and down his full length. matt got impatient. he grabbed her hair by the base of her ponytail, pushing her mouth onto his dick.

“you're such a slut y/n. working here with your tits on display? you know all the men here are starin, and you love it you whore. now you're blowing a costumer in the breakroom.” he growled, watching her pump up and down on his dick, his grip on her ponytail tight as he helped her bob. “s’pretty.”

he released into her mouth and she pulled off, starting to spit when matt said. “nup, good girls swallow it.” she did what she was told. she wanted to be a good girl. matt immediately pulled her up from the floor to a standing position, moving her to the wall once more. y/n stood dripping, when matt ripped her tiny shorts off, revealing no underwear. he smirked, seeing how soaked he was. “so wet already?”

“matt i need you.” she moaned out, taking matt by surprise. with no more words, he picked her up by her thighs and slammed into her, feeling her walls stretch. she yelped at the feeling, not even attempting to muffle her sounds as he aggressively thrusted in and out. after minutes of him absolutely rocking her shit, she moaned out “matt i- im gonna cum” the tension in her stomach having little to no give.

"you cum when i say you cum." he said, continuing to pound into her. he came again, pumping it into her. "dont wanna waste it now do we sweetheart?" he asked, realizing y/ns eyes were closed and her head was back. she responded with a weak 'mhm', he grabbed her chin with his thumb and index, pulling her face down to meet his. "answer me." he growled.

"no, we dont wanna waste it." she spat out. she came all over his dick, moaning as she couldnt hold it in any longer. they snapped out of their high when they heard a fist pounding on the door.

"whos in there!" the manager of the store shouted through the door.

shit.

a/n : tbh, probs could've done better but oh well! 🎀

[munsonsmixtapes]

Dress

Evan “Buck” Buckley x fem!reader

Summary: you and Buck have a one night stand only to find that your world is a lot smaller than you initially thought

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) fingering, brief mention of grief

part two part three part four part five part six

word count: 6k

The LAX airport was crowded beyond belief and you were feeling yourself get overstimulated just by how many people were there. Every time you had touched down in LA, you regretted flying into that specific airport because of all of the foot traffic and actual traffic.

You took your suitcase and rolled it as you walked outside to wait for your friend Scarlett to pick you up. You checked your phone and noticed you had a bunch of messages from your uncle who was always a little too worried about you. You had flown down because you had gotten a nursing job in the city and he had insisted that a party be thrown in your honor because he was just so proud of you.

Scarlett’s familiar blue car rolled up to the curb and she popped the trunk where you put all of your luggage. She quickly got out of the car to help before pulling you into a tight hug.

“LA has been so boring without you, babe,” she sighed. “I’m so glad you’re back and for good this time.”

“Me too. You know I didn’t mean to leave you like that, it was just-my mom-“

“Let’s not talk about that right now,” Scarlett gave your back a sympathetic rub before putting on her signature look that told you that she was up to something. “We’re going out tonight so I hope you brought something slutty to wear.”

“Of course I did.” You had brought your whole wardrobe so there was bound to be something that was up to her standards. She was definitely the more stylish one out of the two of you and you were glad to have her be your fashion consultant again, even though for the most part, you’d be wearing scrubs most of the time.

You both got into her car and you felt nervous about being back in the city. You had to go back to New Jersey when your mom had gotten sick and stayed after she passed because you were afraid to contact people again. You had completely cut contact from the outside world since you had lost her because she was the only person you had left and suddenly, she was gone.

Your uncle knew that you had just graduated nursing school and had helped you get a job at a hospital in LA, and you decided that you had been alone for long enough, so you packed up all your stuff and took the chance to move back, ready to be around your found family again.

Turned out, neither Scarlett nor your uncle had been upset with you about your silence and had been nothing but grateful that you were okay. They had assured you that they wanted to see you and Scarlett had even offered to let you stay with her until you got on your feet.

You were excited to see your uncle, though. He has gotten married since the last time you saw him and you were excited to meet his new family at the party he had insisted on throwing you a party to congratulate you on not only graduating but also getting your first job as an official nurse. He was so proud of you and bragged about your accomplishments to anyone who would listen.

Scarlett pulled up to her building and parked in the parking garage before helping you with your luggage, the two of you hauling it all to the elevator. Once on her floor, you both got to the correct apartment and threw the stuff on the floor, deciding that you would work on it later since your priorities were focused on going out. After everything that happened in New Jersey, you definitely felt like you deserved a drink.

As soon as she was inside, Scarlett threw the suitcase that she was holding down onto the couch then unzipped it before going through all of the clothes that were inside it, not finding what she was looking for. She then went through every single one of your suitcases and shook her head before heading to her room.

You followed her curiously and collapsed onto her bed as she went through her closet. Your clothes weren’t exactly as outgoing as hers, but you at least thought she would like something of yours.

“So I guess I’m borrowing something of yours tonight?” You asked, leaning up to look at her.

“Of course you are. You know I usually support your outfit decisions, babe, but none of those outfits are going to get you laid.”

“What if I don’t want to get laid?” You did, though. Probably a little too much.

“You haven’t seen a dick in two years,” she turned to look at you. “You want to get laid.”

“I’m not even sure I know how to do it anymore.” You didn’t have time to sleep with anyone with taking care of your mother and after she passed, you were so riddled with grief that you couldn’t get yourself to get back out there.

“It’s just like riding a bike. Or I guess riding a-“

“I get it, Scar,” you cut her off. “So what am I wearing tonight?” You weren’t sure you could pull off whatever she was going to pick out, but you were hopeful.

“This,” she pulled out a red dress that left practically nothing up to the imagination. It was short and would definitely show off your cleavage. She tossed it to you without another word and you went to the bathroom to change.

You peeled off your clothes and stared at yourself in the mirror, wondering if you were even ready to sleep with anyone just yet. You had gained some grief weight and could see it in your stomach. When you slipped the dress on, you could see your stomach poking out and felt the need to cover up, but figured you could have worn a jacket over it.

You hesitantly opened the door and stepped out into the bedroom. Scarlett turned to face you and a gasp escaped her lips once she caught sight of you. She stepped forward and looked you up and down.

“Damn,” she let out a whistle. “I might even be into you. Oh yeah, you’re definitely going to score tonight.”

“Really? You don’t think it’s too much?”

“Not at all. You look hot. Now c’mon. Let’s get go get you someone to take home.” She grabbed you by the arm and called you both an Uber to head to the bar.

You were nervous to say the least. You hadn’t slept with anyone since your last boyfriend and he hadn’t exactly been able to please you in that way. It was always all about him and his needs. Maybe that night you’d be able to find someone who could please you more than Jared ever could.

The bar wasn’t nearly as crowded when you got there and you and Scarlett ordered your drinks. You looked around while you waited for them to be made, on the hunt for your hook up. Your eyes locked on a group of fire fighters and you felt your cheeks blush as you made eye contact with one of them. He gave you a wink and you turned back to Scarlett who was fanning herself dramatically with her hand.

“I think I’m having an emergency,” she told you and you just rolled your eyes.

“Is the emergency in your pants?” You asked with a pointed look and she just smirked.

“You know me so well,” she gave your shoulder a nudge and turned back to the bar where your drinks were sitting. You then followed her to an empty table, giving you a great view of the very cute firefighter who had caught your eye.

You could see Scarlett’s lips moving, but you couldn’t hear what she was saying, the man taking up all of your attention. His eyes didn’t leave you as you chatted with your friend.

Buck had frequented that bar more than he cared to admit. He recognized all of the regulars and you weren’t one of them because he definitely would have remembered you.

“Just buy her a drink, Buck,” Hen told him. She could see him eyeing you and just wanted him to make a move already.

“No,” he shook his head. “I-I’m not hooking up anymore, remember? I’m-“

“Buck three point oh,” the rest of the table finished for him. Was he really that predictable?

“With all due respect, Buckaroo,” Chimney spoke up. “No one said anything about hooking up. It’s just a conversation.”

As usual, Chimney’s word rang true. But even with a conversation, Buck was afraid that a conversation very easily could have led to sex and he was trying to cut back on that. It had been a few months since he had broken up with Taylor and he really wasn’t looking for anything, no matter how beautiful you looked and no matter how much he thought about what the dress you were wearing would look like on the floor of his bedroom.

“Yeah,” Eddie added. “Go talk to her. Do it.” He began chanting the last two words lowly and the others joined in, making Buck’s cheeks go pink.

He stood from the table and everyone cheered a little too loudly for his liking, catching your attention as he made his way over to your table. Scarlett saw the two of you making eyes at each other and decided to make herself scarce, heading over to the bar to find an empty stool she could occupy.

“May I?” Buck referred to the now empty seat across from you and you nodded. What were you going to do? Say no?

“Of course.”

“I’m Evan,” he smiled as he sat down.

“Y/n,” you replied and he nodded, taking a sip from his now empty beer.

“Y/n,” he repeated and you didn’t like just how much you enjoyed hearing him saying your name.

“Yup,” you nodded, taking a sip from your own drink.

“So, what brings you here tonight?” So many things, but mostly, the drinks. Evan was definitely going to be the one to make you stay.

“I just graduated nursing school.” Buck knew just how much it took to get through nursing school let alone to get a job as one, so he felt like you deserved a couple of drinks on him.

“Congrats. That’s a really big achievement. And you know what? Your drinks are on me tonight.”

“No, Evan. I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking,” he shrugged. “I’m telling you that I’m buying your drinks. So what are you drinking?”

“Margarita on the rocks. Salt on the rim.”

“You got it,” he nodded and headed over to the bar, leaving you alone. You tried to play a little hard to get, not wanting to seem too available. While he had his back to you, you turned to look at him.

You let your eyes raked down his body, stopping at his ass, admiring the way his jeans hugged it and you found yourself wanting to stick your hand down them to get a handful for yourself.

As soon as Buck felt your eyes on him, he turned to look at you but you turned away, pulling your phone out of your purse to check your messages and they all happened to be from your uncle Robert.

Text me when you land!

Your flight landed at 8:30 and it is now 9:00. Why haven’t I heard from you?

Guess you’re having too much fun to get back your old uncle, huh?

You had completely forgotten that you had promised him that you’d tell him when you landed. Scarlett’s plan had totally derailed yours. Maybe you could end the night early and go see him to make it up to him. He was practically a father to you and was the whole reason you had a job in the first place so you felt like you owed it to him to do that.

Robert, I’m so sorry! Time got away from me and I completely forgot to get back to you!

That’s alright. You have a good night and I’ll see you on Saturday.

You set your phone back in your purse as Buck came back with your drink and he handed it to you with a bright smile on his face.

“Thank you,” you took the drink and took a sip before setting it down on the table.

“You’re very welcome,” he smiled again, taking a sip from his own drink that looked like the same one you had gotten. “So, you got a job lined up?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Got my first day next Monday.”

“Well, I think you’re going to be amazing. Cheers,” he held up his glass and you did the same, letting them clink together.

“I haven’t started the job yet.”

“Yeah, but I have a pretty good feeling about you,” he leaned back in his chair, studying you. “And I’m always right about these things.”

“If you say so,” you shrugged and licked the salt from your glass which Buck was having a hard time watching. He wanted you to do the exact same thing to him. To feel your hot tongue on his neck as you sucked on it, leaving the nastiest looking mark behind once were finished.

“Trust me,” he winked. “You’ll be great.” He took another sip of his drink and grimaced. “That’s terrible.”

“Oh, so you’re an alcohol snob, huh?”

“I drink the cheapest beers so I’m definitely not a snob. This is just the worst margarita I’ve ever had.” It wasn’t the worst you’d ever had, but it definitely wasn’t the best.

“Okay, maybe it sucks,” you admitted with a shrug.

“See?” He leaned back in this chair. “Always right.”

“Whatever you say, Evan,” you rolled your eyes.

After many drinks and a few shots, you were the only ones left in the bar, giggling and flirting with each other. Somehow, Buck had ended up in the chair to the left of yours, scooting so that it was right up against it. You were talking in hushed tones, amping up the flirting as more alcohol entered your systems.

His hand rested on your thigh as he leaned toward you, his lips right by your ear as he spoke. Your breath hitched at the feeling of his hot breath on your skin as he spoke, wondering what it would have felt like as he whispered the filthiest things into your ear.

“Do you wanna take things to my place?” He asked, his other hand moving to your shoulder, slipping under the strap of your dress.

“Yes,” you breathed and just chuckled at your reaction, loving how you were already coming undone and he hadn’t even done anything yet.

“We could play Grand Theft Auto, maybe a little Mario Kart?”

“Oh, so you want to play games?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled again and the hot air being blown on your ear made you shiver. “All kinds of games.” He took your ear lobe between his teeth and gave it a little bite before pulling away completely just in time to watch your eyes glaze over with lust. He had you right where he wanted you.

Buck pulled you to your feet and payed the tab before leading you out to the parking lot where he pulled out his phone to get an Uber for you both. Neither of you had a drink for a couple of hours, but he still wanted to be safe.

He pulled you to his chest, watching you chew on your bottom lip, your red lipstick leaving a mark on your teeth. Buck watched you, completely captivated by your movements, wanting to know what your lips felt like, but not able to make the move.

You leaned closer to him, your eyes shifting to his lips. You looked back up at his eyes as if to ask for permission and he nodded, his lips parting slightly as he did so. Almost as if you had him in a trance.

You grabbed him by the back of the neck and your lips caught his bottom one just as a pair of headlights flashed in your direction as a vehicle pulled up to the curb.

“Uber for Evan?” The driver asked and Buck showed him the proof that it was him before the two of you got into the backseat. He gave the driver the address then turned to you, his hand moving back to your thigh, rubbing up and down it as you tried not to think about how you wanted it to move further up your dress.

You could imagine it perfectly: him slowly moving his hand up your thigh and underneath your dress, making his way to your underwear and sticking his hand down it, his fingers teasing your cunt, making you beg for him until he suddenly stuck his fingers inside of you to make all of your whining stop. He’d urge you to make some noise as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, telling you that you could scream his name as loud as you wanted to.

“I never told you, but you look beautiful tonight,” he said lowly in your ear, his hand giving your thigh a squeeze.

“Don’t look too bad yourself,” you replied, your hand going to his thigh and giving it a squeeze in return.

“No, this isn’t about me,” he took your hand and pressed a kiss to it. “Tonight is all about you.” You felt your cheeks blush and couldn’t help but feel like you needed to step up your flirting game just to keep up with him.

You could feel Buck pulling you forward, his eyes looking at your lips hungrily. He captured your top lip between his two and you moved together slowly, trying to figure out your movements, the feeling of each other’s lips so foreign to you both.

His other hand moved to your jaw, tilting your head up so he had more access to your mouth. He swiped his tongue along your bottom lip and you opened up, letting it slide inside, holding back a moan as it swirled around yours.

Before things could get too heated, the car rolled up to Buck’s apartment building. You both got out and he took you by the hand, leading you inside, making a beeline for the elevator. He pressed the necessary button then pulled you into his arms, his lips slotting between yours once again. Your tongue swiped along his bottom lip just as the doors opened and you pushed him inside, your lips still connected.

You pushed him against the wall and slid your tongue into his mouth as you moved your hands up his t-shirt, getting a good feel of his pecks. You broke apart just to take his shirt off and your lips were back on his in a flash.

The elevator doors opened and Buck guided you down the hallway as your lips still moved together, him only breaking away to unlock his door and as soon as you were inside, he pushed you against it, pinning your hands to it as his lips moved to your neck, peppering the spot with kisses before going in for a rough suck, pulling a moan from your lips.

“Evan, oh my god.” He chuckled at that before continuing to scandalize your neck, his teeth grazing the skin, causing your fingernails to dig into his back as you let out another loud moan.

“Yeah? You like that, honey?” Neither of you quite knew where the term of endearment came from, but had to admit that you liked it. Very much.

“More, please.” He kind of liked the idea of you begging for him. Teasing you until you were whining for him. He licked a stripe across your neck then grazed it once again and he couldn’t feel you going limp in his arms.

He pulled you from the wall and mumbled the word “jump” against your skin and you did as he asked and he caught you, his hands moving to your ass as he attached your lips to his as he carried you up the stairs slowly.

He set you down on your feet and you both removed your shoes and kicked them aside before Buck laid you down onto the bed and climbed on top of you, his legs tangling with yours as his lips moved back to the hickey he was working on. You turned your head to the side to give him more access and he took advantage, burying his face completely into it, giving it another suck as yet another moan fell from your lips.

“God, fuck,” you whined and let your eyes close tight and pleasure rolled through your body. Your back arched and Buck took that as an opportunity to slip his hands behind you, his hands pressing to your back, moving down to your ass.

His hand slowly moved up your dress and cupped your ass, giving it a squeeze which caused you to yelp in surprise. He chuckled at your reaction and went it for one more hard suck to pull another moan from your lips before diffusing the sting with another swipe of his tongue along the sensitive spot before rolling off of you.

“Wait here for just a second? I’m just gonna grab something.” Before you could answer, he raced down the stairs on the hunt for something and you just laid there, trying to keep yourself from drying up while you waited for him to come back.

You decided to do a little snooping and looked around the room, your eyes catching his jacket that he wore when he was on duty. You found yourself wanting to try it on, but didn’t feel like you had the right since you had only just met and the fact that you wouldn’t have forgiven yourself if something had happened to it.

You slowly snuck over to it, your fantasy getting the best of you as you as you slowly removed it from the top of his duffel bag. You noticed what you assumed was his last name on the bottom of it. Buckley. You liked the sound of it. You slipped it on over your shoulders and slowly zipped it up only to hear Bucks voice behind you.

“What are you doing?” His tone was more amused than accusatory but you were still nervous as you turned around to face him.

“I was just-I honestly don’t know. I’m sorry. I’ll take it off.”

“No, leave it on. You look…hot.” Buck had never fantasized about anything like that, but he had to admit that seeing you in his uniform was definitely doing something for him.

“Yeah?” You asked stepping forward. You turned around and unzipped the jacket and pulled your dress down slowly, letting it pool at your feet, your thong following it, then turned back around. Your eyes filled with lust as you grabbed onto Buck’s hands and guided them up to the zipper.

“Wanna unzip me, Buckley?” You asked, your tone even more flirty than before and Buck swore that he was going to cream his pants. “Go ahead. I can see how badly you want it.”

Instead of unzipping the jacket, He pressed his lips to yours roughly, his tongue slipping into your mouth and you moaned at the feeling. He continued to kiss you senseless as his hand traveled down the jacket and to your cunt, his fingers teasing the outside and he could already feel your slick, feeling a little cocky about getting you that wet with most just his words. He was definitely back in the game.

“Evan, please,” you whined, begging for his finger to fuck you, but he was still teasing you, not entirely sure that you wanted it enough.

“Gonna need you to beg some more, honey. Not sure you want it enough.”

“Evan, c’mon,” you grabbed hold of his wrist, but he felt like needed a little bit more.

“Gonna need to be a little louder.”

“Please, Evan? Need your fingers so bad.” There it was. He shoved his fingers up your cunt and you gasped, not entirely prepared for them.

“Oh,” was all you were able to get out and you turned your back to him, pressing it to his chest so he could have more access and he pumped his fingers in and out of you slowly, eating up every last one of your delicious moans. Your head fell back onto his shoulder and it gave him perfect opportunity to watch you completely fall apart at his touch. If his fingers were driving you wild, he wondered just what his dick would do.

“You’re so tight, hon. But don’t worry, I’ll loosen you up real nice.” You had absolutely it doubt about that. He was already making you feel much more pleasure than your ex boyfriend and your vibrator combined.

“Faster,” you moaned. He was being too nice for your liking. You wanted his fingers to fuck you roughly in a way that it was almost concerning.

Buck moved his fingers the fastest he could and you moaned so loudly that he felt his dick hardening even more. Just a few more pumps and you were definitely going to orgasm.

“That’s it,” you told him. “Just like that.” His fingers curved and hit just the right spot to make you reach your climax, your back arching as you did so.

As soon as you came down from your high, Buck removed his fingers from you and turned you around to face him. He slowly brought his fingers covered in your slick up to his mouth and sucked on them, watching your face for your reaction.

His eyes darkened as he sucked on his fingers, licking them entirely clean and you watched him in shock, your cunt now a sopping wet mess. The final straw was when he slowly pulled them from his mouth and licked up the back of them, a devilish smirk making its way upon his face.

“Christ,” was all you were able to say and Buck stepped closer to you, grabbing you by the waist and pressing his lips to yours one more time. He slowly unzipped the jacket and you were getting more desperate for him the longer he took. You were just ready to let him have his way with you already. The jacket fell open and his eyes widened as he took in your naked body, part of it still hidden by the jacket, but the little taste was all he needed.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “I mean-“ he tried to come up with something more complimentary, but he couldn’t. You were perfect. The exact kind of woman that always appeared in his dreams.

“Fuck.” His voice was deep and raspy and you felt yourself slick run down your thighs because of how wet you were.

“Are you gonna stare at me all night, Buckley? Or are you going to fuck me?”

“The second one,” he replied, grabbing you by the jacket and pressing his lips to yours roughly. “Definitely the second one.”

“Good boy,” you replied and you both felt his cock tent in his pants as soon as the words left your mouth. That seemed to be the final straw to get him up and he was straight up desperate for you now.

You unbuttoned his pants and pulled them along with his underwear to the floor, his dick springing free as you did so. You felt your mouth water as you thought about what it would feel like in your mouth. But now wasn’t the time. You just needed him inside you.

His cock was leaking with precum and the only other man you had slept with had never looked like that before. Seeing Buck, you had come to realize that you were never the problem.

You grabbed onto Buck’s shoulders and pushed him onto the bed and took the condom from his hand, rolling it onto his cock before placing yourself on top of him, taking no time to roll your hips into his.

Your hands went to your shoulder as you rode him, watching him come undone underneath you, letting him be the one to be teased. His moans were absolutely intoxicating and you moved harder and faster to make him come completely undone and it worked.

“You feel so good, honey,” he moaned. “Look so pretty on top of me.”

“No, you’re the pretty one,” you complimented. “Love how you look underneath me, Buckley.” God, you were good. He had never slept with someone who could keep up with his game and he almost thought that you were better at it than he was.

“And I feel good. You feel so good.” You continued to ride him, going the hardest and fastest that you could and you watched his face, eating up just how much you were able to please him as he let out moan after moan.

You were nothing but pleased with yourself as you watched him come absolutely undone, eating up every last one of his moans as you leaned over him, pressing your lips to his. They moved together as you continued to ride him. You moved your lips to his cheek and down to his neck and he moved his head to the side to give you more access.

You peppered the spot with kisses, mixing in your tongue in with it, licking across the spot and just that alone was enough to make Buck lose his mind. Between both the feeling of your lips and the fact that you were riding him, it was so overstimulating, but he couldn’t have cared less. He was having the time of his life.

You began to suck on the skin and Buck let out gasp even though he had been very aware of what you were doing. Continued to ride him as you sucked on his neck and he couldn’t feel that he was close, but still wanted you to continue. He wanted you to mark him up good.

You grazed the skin with your teeth and he moaned again, his nails digging into your back as you did so. He scratched down your back and you gave the spot a full on bite, pulling a groan out of him.

“So fucking good,” he said and you sucked on the spot again, swiping your tongue along it to diffuse the sting and just as you were finishing marking him up, he reached completion and collapsed back to the mattress, letting out a loud sigh as you got off of him and cleaned yourself up while Buck disposed of the condom.

As soon as you were done, Buck pulled you back down onto the mattress, leaning over you. His hand reached for you and he lowered himself on top of you to press his lips to yours in a sweet kiss before rolling off of you. He turned off his lamp and bid you goodnight along with a kiss before the two of you drifted off to sleep.

———

A loud siren woke you up from your sleep and you turned over to find that Buck was still there, his back facing you. So it hadn’t all been a dream. You had actually slept with him and it wasn’t just a very real fantasy that you had been playing out in your head.

He turned over and a smile broke out on his face as he caught sight of you. That you had actually stayed the night. It always seemed that women liked to leave him right after the act so he was surprised that you were still there.

He smiled back at him and he moved closer, pulling you in for a kiss before rolling out of bed. You laid in bed, watching him get dressed, trying to find a way to ask him if he wanted to go for round two after he got off work, but you decided against it. Maybe you were just meant to only be a one night stand.

“Heading to work?”

“Unfortunately,” he sighed. If Buck had it this way, he would have the day off and had his way with you the entire day, only getting up to go to the bathroom or eat.

“Sure I can’t make you stay?” You asked, pulling down the blanket to reveal your bare breasts and Buck could drool pooling in his mouth as he thought about how much he wanted to suck on them.

“No,” he shook his head to wipe the thought away. Once he was dressed, he made his way over to you and tilted your chin up. “I really have to go. And you have unpacking to do,” he reminded you of what you had told him at the bar. He pressed a kiss to your lips and handed you your dress.

“Kicking me out, Buckley?” You asked as he helped you put your dress on before handing you your thong. You put it on and Buck helped you up from the bed before grabbing his duffel bag and jacket.

“No,” he replied. “Just thought you’d want to be dressed when you walked me to the door.”

The two of you descended the steps and he pulled you to the door, resting his hands on your waist as he did so. His blue eyes bored into yours and he leaned down and pressed another kiss to your lips.

“You’re more than welcome to stay here until I get back, but I know you have things to do, so we can end things here.”

“That would be the right thing to do,” you pursed your lips. “But fuck being right,” you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and slotted your lips between his, taking no time to swipe your tongue along his bottom lip, causing him to pull away.

“Hey, that’s not fair,” he pointed at you and you just pulled him over to the staircase, attaching your lips to his.

“Life’s not fair, Buckley,” you told him as you led him up the stairs to go for round two.

Buck had been over an hour late to work and realized that he had a bunch of messages from the rest of the 118 asking where he was. Considering his shirt that was not buttoned correctly and his very kiss bitten lips, it was obvious what he had been up to.

He was met by Bobby when he entered the station and he let out a loud sight because he knew exactly what was coming and didn’t want to hear it. The others were nowhere to be found so he had no one to bail him out, so he was stuck listening to Bobby’s lecture.

“You’re late,” Bobby told him as he crossed his arms over his chest, like a parent who was scolding a child.

“I know, Bobby, and I’m sorry. Time got away from me.” Bobby eyed Buck’s shirt then looked back up at him.

“Clearly. Now don’t let it happen again.” With that, Bobby turned on his heel and headed up the stairs, leaving Buck alone.

Really? That was it? No lecture about how he had a responsibility to the 118? And what about the “new version” of himself that he was trying to become and wasn’t really making an effort since he had just slept with you?

Buck ascended the stairs and was met by the other members of the department turning to face him. They all knew why he was late and knew that he wouldn’t have been able to resist you. They just didn’t think that it would have lasted so that he would have been late to work.

“So, how’d it go?” Eddie asked as he sipped on a cup of coffee. Buck immediately wanted to make himself scarce because he was getting embarrassed. But he sat at the table anyway, the others joining him, wanting to hear about his night, but maybe not all of the details.

“Clearly very well,” Hen replied as she sat down to the left of Buck, spotting his very obvious hickey. She pulled his collar down to get a better look to which Buck pushed her hand away.

“Damn,” Chimney commented. “Guess that’s why you’re late, huh?”

“Sorry, I don’t remember this being any of your business and as close as we all are, I will never share my sex life with any of you.” As soon as he was done speaking, the alarm rang, causing them all to get up and race to the engine to answer a call, leaving the conversation for later. Much later if Buck could help it.

———

You and Scarlett arrived at Athena and Bobby’s right on time and the door opened, Bobby on the other side with a bright smile. He couldn’t have been more happy to see you. You were the only blood relation each other had and considering that your father was never around, Bobby had become one to you. And you were like a daughter to him and he was going to protect you no matter what he had to do to do so.

“There’s my girl,” he greeted, his arms open wide and he pulled you in for a tight hug, the both of you making up for lost time being wrapped up in each other’s arms.

“Uncle Robert,” you replied into his chest. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too, kiddo. Scarlett, get in here,” he waved her over and she joined the hug before the three of you pulled away.

“Come on in, there’s someone I want you to meet.” He led you over to a woman you could only assume was Athena. You had been nothing but happy for him that he had finally become himself again. He had gotten sober and even though he hadn’t fully healed from his guilt and grief, he was the happiest he had been in a long time and it warmed your heart to see that.

“It’s so lovely to meet you,” you told her and she was quick to pull you into a hug and you wrapped your arms around her in response.

“The feeling is very mutual,” she told you as she gave your back a light rub before pulling away. “You get in here too,” she gestured to Scarlett who she pulled in for a hug.

You looked at Athena and couldn’t have been more excited to meet the woman who made Bobby feel like Bobby again. From all of his texts and emails, it was clear that they were in love and that was what he had deserved after everything he had been through.

“And these are Athena’s children May and Harry and her ex-husband Michael.” They all received hugs as well and you were offered a drink as you waited for everyone else to arrive.

“The rest of 118 should be arriving soon and then we can eat,” Bobby announced. “I’m sure you must be hungry.”

“A little, but I’m fine,” you told him just as there was a knock on the door. Bobby ran to answer it and pretty soon, people were filing in.

Your heart warmed as you watched the living room filled with everyone your uncle had called family and you could help but feel honored that he had wanted you to meet them. That he wanted you all to get along and you sure that you would if Bobby liked them.

Your eyes looked over each person and you had to hold in your gasp as your eyes caught onto Evan. He was the “Buck” your uncle always talked about? He worked with your uncle? Your uncle was his boss and you had slept with him.

Buck’s eyes locked on yours and they widened as he went to approach you. What were you doing there? Who did you know that would have invited there? Unless…no. No way. You were Bobby’s niece?

[pucksandpower]

Roll the Dice

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: You and Charles throw your own private celebration after one of the best races of the season

Warnings: 18+ content

The roar of the crowd still rings in your ears as you make your way through the paddock to find Charles. Your heart is bursting with pride after watching him fight his way to a hard-earned P2.

Las Vegas may be a new circuit but Charles drove it like he had been racing here for years. He made the Ferrari dance in ways you didn’t think were possible, squeezing every last hundredth out of each corner.

You spot him up ahead, finally free from the mob of reporters and post-race press conference. He’s leaning against the wall near the media pen in a rare moment of solitude, eyes closed and head tilted back, no doubt mentally replaying each complex sequence of braking points and apexes.

You take a moment just to look at him — the way his damp curls cling to his forehead, the zipper of his race suit undone and its sleeves tied at his waist to reveal soaked fireproofs that cling to every contour of his chest. He’s breathing heavily, a post-race flush still clinging to his cheeks.

He’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

As you draw nearer, his eyes blink open and immediately lock with yours. Relief, affection, and something more primal flash through them as a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

“Y/N!” He shouts, hurrying over to sweep you up in a massive hug.

You squeeze him tight, not caring at all that he’s drenched in sweat and sticky with champagne. “I’m so proud of you!” You beam.

He sets you down, his hands lingering on your waist. “I couldn’t have done it without my good luck charm.”

You playfully smack his shoulder. “Oh stop, this was all you! I can’t believe the drive you put on out there. You were incredible!”

Charles glances down shyly. “Thank you, mon cœur. It was a good race tonight.”

“A great race,” you correct him, “You drove incredibly. I was on the edge of my seat the whole time, watching you battle with Max and Checo like that. It was the best thing I’ve seen all season.”

Taking his hand, you lead him away from the crowds. “Come on, let’s get you out of here. I think it’s time we celebrate!”

A flight in the early afternoon means you both decide to forego the wild Vegas parties and instead make your way straight to the hotel. Once you’re in your suite, Charles heads for the shower while you pour champagne. When he emerges in a billow of steam, you hand him a glass.

“To my champion!” You declare, clinking your glass against his.

Charles smiles graciously but you catch a flash of disappointment in his eyes. “I’m hardly a champion finishing P2.”

You fix him with a serious look. “That was the drive of a champion tonight. You left you heart on the track out there. If it wasn’t for that safety car, you would’ve won. I would have bet my life on it.”

He looks thoughtful as he takes a sip. “You really think so?”

“I know so! The way you managed to regain the lead from Max? And then from Checo? The move you pulled in the last lap to take P2? Incredible. My only regret is that you don’t have a car that would give you an opportunity to compete like this all season.”

Charles sighs. “The team is doing their best with what we’ve got.”

You set your glass down and rest your hands on his bare chest. “I know and you’re so patient with them. But a driver like you? You deserve to be fighting at the front in every single race.”

Looking into your eyes, Charles brushes a strand of hair from your face. “We’ll get there, I know it. This result today, it shows progress.”

“You’re right. It does,” you smile up at him. “And when you do get a car worthy of you, the rest of the grid better watch out. Because you are going to do great things, Charles Leclerc.”

Charles gazes at you tenderly before pulling you in for a kiss. Your lips move together unhurriedly, his hands trailing down your back.

When you finally break apart, breaths mingling, he gives you a mischievous look.

“You know, I never did properly thank you for being my good luck charm today.” His fingers toy with the hem of your shirt.

You bite your lip coyly. “I think the good luck charm wants to properly congratulate her driver on the podium. I want to make you feel good. You more than earned it.”

Charles grins and tugs your shirt up over your head. His lips find your neck as he backs you towards the bed, hands roaming your newly exposed skin.

You fumble with the ties on his sweatpants, shoving them down as the back of your legs hit the plush mattress. He gently lowers you down, hovering over you.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmurs, eyes dark with want.

You pull him down for another heated kiss, reveling in the feel of his solid weight above you. Your hands grasp at his back, nails digging in slightly to leave crescent marks on his skin.

Charles groans into your mouth at the sensation, pressing his hips down firmly against yours. You can feel his arousal even through the thin fabric still separating you.

Breaking the kiss, you trail your lips along his stubbled jaw to his ear. “I want you so much,” you whisper hotly.

He shudders in response, hands gripping your waist. “Take what you want, mon amour. I’m all yours.”

You slip a hand between your bodies, palming him through his boxers. He hisses in pleasure, bucking into your touch.

“These need to come off. Now,” you demand.

Charles obliges eagerly, stripping the last barrier between you away. You waste no time to wrap your legs around his waist, gasping as he enters you in one smooth motion.

You move together unhurriedly at first, simply reveling in the feeling of being joined so intimately. Charles peppers your face and neck with tender kisses as your hands caress every inch of his back and shoulders you can reach.

As the pleasure builds, your hips pick up speed, chasing release. Charles shifts his angle, hitting that sweet spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

“Just like that! Don’t stop!” You cry out, nails digging into his shoulders again.

He increases his pace, pounding into you relentlessly. You feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you.

“Charles, I’m so close ...” you gasp.

“Let go, mon cœur. Come for me,” he growls breathlessly into your ear.

His words send you tumbling over the edge with a wordless cry. Your vision goes white as intense ecstasy washes over you. Distantly you’re aware of Charles following right after, your name a reverent sigh on his lips.

As you float back down, Charles collapses on top of you. You hold him close, heart threatening to burst from the love and pride swelling within you.

Charles presses his lips to your forehead. “Have I mentioned that you’re the best girlfriend ever? I don’t know what I did to deserve someone as wonderful as you. But I’m so glad you’re here with me through all of this. I love you so much.”

You grin and pull him in for a kiss. “You deserve the world, Charles Leclerc. And I plan on spending every day of our lives proving that to you.”

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ MAGNESIUM

tw. noncon, blood, branding/marking, some pretty egregious dirty talk and degradation, threats, mirror sex, horror elements, knife play, manipulation, murder, little bit of gore, there be a dead body in here somewhere wordcount. 6.3k

a/n. ♡ commissioned by a lovely lovely person whomst im so grateful for ♡ i reallyyy liked writing sakusa a lot so i hope you like it and it is what you hAd IN MINDDD!! this was such a fun commission thank yoUU a ton seriously! mwUah ♡♡♡ i hopeee you enjoy!!! kiSsES once again a million million kisses to everyone who helped read through it when i was struggling you're the bestest ilY

sakusa kiyoomi x fem!reader

It’s almost impossible to believe that everything led up to - this. You’re slumped against the car door in the back, and though you’re not knocked out, you sort of wish you were. Instead you have to feel the hard glare Kiyoomi sends you through the rear view mirror each time his eyes flick up as he reverses out of the street. There’s tension so thick that you can’t just cut it, but it’s troubling the air between you two like polluted water. Silence drags on until you wrap your arms around yourself in an attempt to warm up.

“Where are we going?” You whisper. 

The man in front smoothly turns the corner, as an almost impalpable furrow moves his brow. It takes him too long to answer for your liking, as you shuffle in the leather seat, unable to get comfortable. “I don’t like fighting with you, but you always push me.” The dry tone and answer says everything his eyes can’t. “Tonight pissed me off, you know? I’m not ever gonna let you go.”

“All this because Atsumu complimented me?” You try, and when that doesn’t get a reaction - not even a blink, your hands clamp together. “He’s like that to everyone. He was calling Hinata ‘real handsome’ all evening.” Nothing. The Kiyoomi you fell in love with was a bit sarcastic and clumsy in his words, but he wasn’t ever cruel. Wasn’t ever purposefully standoffish. What seems left of him is only the brittle, icy void. You would’ve been better off breaking up days ago.

He also would’ve given the blond the benefit of the doubt.

You can basically feel the smile shine off of your face closing the billowing curtains against the golden light, looking back at the dark-haired beauty splayed out over your bed. You clear your voice. “So what’s the deal with your teammate- that Miya guy?” Kiyoomi’s brow raises a few millimeters. “He’s serious? He’s really like that all the time?”

“The whole flirtatious act?” Your boyfriend yawns into the question, before rolling over so that his muscular shoulders, pecks, and that pretty waist are even more distracting. It’s infuriating how good he looks. But you nod, and place yourself down on the edge - where he trails a lazy hand over the back of your hand. “Oh, yeah. He has this overflowing… charisma that you can’t help but get used to, and learn to appreciate.” He chuckles when you frown. “He drives me up the wall. But he’s a good guy.”

“Hmm?” Your pout is instantly enough to have him reaching around to pull you down onto him. “You’re not worried?”

You try to blink away tears, and stare out the window instead, at every light that flashes past. More to yourself than to him, you hiccup as you brush away the wobbly lines of heat down your cheeks. “You’ve been acting so— different.” He barely glances before turning too comfortably at the next lights, speeding up enough to make your chest feel tight. “I don’t know what’s happened, but I want you to go back to how you were.” That’s the only way you can put it. It’s like there’s nothing left.

Kiyoomi’s mouth corners drop at your confession, but he doesn’t speak. You’re not sure you want him to anyway. His free hand runs through his brushed back hair, long fingers sitting still against the steering wheel when they land. And they don’t move again as you sit in the quiet cold.

“Worried?” He repeats, calm expression changing into a grin. “Please, Miya fucking wishes.” You laugh when his lips start dragging down your pulse and he softly moans against you. “You’ve got way better taste than that. In neighbors - and,” his kisses get a little more hot and needy when his large hands glide down your body to grab your ass and pull you closer, “in boyfriends- and in perfume— you smell sexy, ‘s that new?”

You giggle harder, can’t help but get flustered when he gets so touchy. “I’ll get an inflated ego if you compliment me so much.” He shrugs, and positions you better onto his broad chest. But still. “How don’t you get jealous? I’m pretty sure I would if the roles were reversed.” His dark hair is splayed out over the pillow when he drops his head back, and those pretty eyes flick over your face for a second, thinking.

“I do,” he eventually breathes, “but not because of you, and definitely not with Miya Atsumu.” When you start giggling again, he frowns. “I mean, truly- genuinely-” You snort, and he stares at you with an affronted look. “If you wanna run into the egotistical, bombastic, borderline- pathetic sunset with that guy, I might have to take a long, hard look at myself. Wonder what horrible traits you’re dating me for.” His eyes fall back to you when you take a deep breath, and he goes a little bit softer as you nuzzle up under his chin. “You wanna leave me for a shitty dye job?”

“I don’t think so,” you whisper back. He looks much too at ease in the comfort of your now shared apartment.

The silence that once felt so comfortable, now squeezes the life out of you with all it’s got. Only after a few minutes, Kiyoomi’s voice reaches out, and the shiver down your neck seems to screw the icy collar down tighter.

“Y’know, I hate how that Miya looks at you. Makes me want to carve his fucking eyes out.”

+

About a week into living in Tokyo, you decide it’s not all that bad. Hauling along the giant box of fresh veggies and two more bags of groceries, you can barely look over enough to watch the elevator open, and hasten your steps. “Hold the door, please! There’s no way I’m doing the stairs today,” you sigh, and watch as the doors ping. You slide in just in time, and a deep chuckle follows when your arms start slowly folding with the weight.

“That’s … some collection you’ve got there,” the deep voice continues, “did I miss the call on doomsday?”

You manage to turn yourself enough to see the pair of warm, obsidian eyes staring down at you - soft curly hair freshly wet from a shower. The eggplants and pumpkins in your box start rolling toward the edge, so you shift the box onto your side with a struggling smile. “No, I- I like to buy in big batches and pre-chop everything to freeze. I don’t really love cooking so… that way I save- some time while still…” You fall quiet when he keeps your gaze without any reaction, and clear your voice. Most of his face is kept behind a black surgical mask, hiding what you imagine to be the rest of a handsome face.

But no one likes being stuck in unwanted small talk, do they. He nods though, right as you arrive on your floor and the doors slide open. “That’s smart. I’ll have to try that sometime.” The box starts slipping further. The noiret’s eyes go from your face to your white-knuckled grip, and then back. “Would you like some help with that?”

“Please,” you can’t say quickly enough, afraid that one wrong move will send the entire box rolling across the floor. It’s not like you to admit defeat so easily, but currently your pride could cost you a hundred on fresh produce, and— he doesn’t seem like the type to ask if he’d mind. Your neighbor doesn’t say anything, but his eyes crinkle a little with a smile. Aside from some very brief passings in the hallway, you haven’t had the chance to meet any of your building’s occupants yet. He doesn’t bat an eye when lifting the very heavy box out of your arms, and you fluster. “Sorry for the hassle.”

“No, it’s alright. I have the afternoon off - ‘s nothing. You’re the new 3B tennant, right?” He frees one hand just to slide his mask down when you nod your face towards your door. He’s probably the prettiest guy you’ve seen to date, strong jawline, full lips and an almost perfectly straight nose; dark curls framing smart, observant eyes. So not only is he tall and charming, he’s also hot. When you mumble a soft acknowledgement, he gives you a little smile, and you can’t help but feel a bit too seen. “I’m Kiyoomi.”

You think you like Kiyoomi.

+

The heat of hands shakes you out of sleep with a slight startle, and the surprise soon makes way for a wave of rolling pleasure mixed under a heavy layer of embarrassment - at the way Kiyoomi’s toying with your body like it’s his own, and the low chuckle he lets out when you let out a pinched whimper. One of his hands is two fingers deep inside your pussy by the time you can even blink the sleep out of your eyes, feeling the warmth flood onto your face. As slick gathers between your thighs, he pushes himself up above you, and squeezes your throat between his free fingers.

“Sorry for waking you up, baby.” There’s a sharp glint in his eyes that you can’t miss even with the low light, deep from within. His hand slides down the curve of your spine to settle around your hip, pressing you further into bed as your back arches when he curls his fingers without any mercy. Though you are leaving wetness all over his hand, the sudden invasion is still a little jarring, definitely when he starts sucking at your tits and bites down. “Omi, ow,” you breathe, and he only grunts as he nudges a thigh between your knees, spreading you apart. “Right now?”

“Shhh, just bear it for a bit,” he mumbles back, as his hand trails down your ribcage and forces your body to adjust to him when he hikes your leg over his shoulder. “Woke up so hard thinking of you, and- you were so cute just sleeping here next to me without a worry in the world.” His fingers are replaced quickly by the hot head of his cock, that is slid a few inches too deep right away, and your whimpering only drives him further. “Ah, fuck, there it is. Good- fucking- girl…” By the time he bottoms out there’s silvery slivers running down your face and you’re shaking your head as the ache has you moaning with pain.

But the dark haired man above you barely gives you any time to adjust, before he starts rocking himself against your center and rubbing himself deep enough to force your mouth shut. “You trust me, don’t you, angel?” He pants, stroking the inside of your thigh a few times, before starting a punishing rhythm that rocks the bed hard. The question takes you off guard, but it doesn’t seem like Kiyoomi needs an answer to keep going anyway, and you swallow down your whimper to hide your face in the pillow. He’s so big and rough and your body can’t keep up. “Oh, your pussy’s so fucking good. So tight and- warm, agh, fuck.”

Jutting out your lip into a little pout, you let out a little noise. You’re trying not to let the way he’s basically getting himself off inside you ruin your mood. After a moment, you blink up at him with wobbly vision. “Can you kiss me?” He takes a few seconds before the words register, fucking you harder each time he bottoms out— before his dark eyes go from your eyes to your lips like he’s having to debate it. And that hurts. He decides maybe against better judgment to lean in anyway, and presses his lips to yours with a low sigh, an almost moan that you suppose you have to be content with. 

He pushes your knee up to your chest as he gets closer, and the heavy pressure of his body on yours gets even more unbearable when his free hand wraps around your neck and presses until you’re gasping out. Your boyfriend’s eyes glint as they flick all over your face, and a small grin starts to travel up his lips. “Don’t you like me better like this?” You’re too distracted by the pounding in your head to answer, and whine out his name as your back arches off the bed. And Kiyoomi pants as he forces you to take each thrust. “I like you a lot. Wanna keep you.” You throw your head back, and reach around his wide shoulders to pull him even closer, trying to lock your legs around his waist with a sigh.

“Shit, you’re so fucking pretty, baby,” he pants into your mouth as he rocks himself into you, forehead to forehead as your nails dig into his skin. You feel bad, but you can’t help but pull him closer by his shoulders as the shower water trickles between you two and makes the entire room a steamy mix of pants and sweaty touches. “So-” he kisses messily, making you smile as his tongue swipes yours, “-damn pretty. I love your body so much.”

“And me?” You breathe back, letting your body tremble in his strong hands as he rocks himself so deep inside you that it’s making you breathless. Your little whine makes him stare, and nod.

“Of course I love you even more— don’t be silly- agh, fuck.” You move one hand to brush the wet tresses of hair out of his face and let yourself get moved up and down him, thighs wrapped ever so tight around his narrow waist. He breathes your name like the word itself is lovely, and you can’t help but moan a long whimper of his name when he hits the right spot so perfectly. “You feel so good, taking my cock right in there- that tight, little pussy. Drooling all over me, huh.” Another kiss as you swallow your mix of spit and rest your hand on his cheek. “You drive me crazy. I really- ugh- really love you, baby.”

Your tits brush up against his chest. “Promise?”

“Uhuh, mh-ahg. Promise. I can’t get enough of you.”

Sometimes you swear you can hear the house close in around you with heavy breaths.

+

The door to your apartment already hangs open when you notice the noise. The low thumping that is only audible when you slide the headphones off, a vaguely rhythmic noise that makes the hairs on your neck stand. You slide off the bed with a little frown, and smooth the wrinkles in your camisole as you peer into the open apartment area - which is empty. “Babe?” The door wobbles when the wind passes through, and your frown only digs deeper into your face when there’s no answer.

“Kiyoomi?”

The noise is louder when you walk towards the hall, and fist your hands into the bottom of the flimsy dress to pull it down. Only after a few moments of thought, your instinct drives you across the hall to pull open the door of the neighbors’, a young guy who moved in after you two did. Sure enough, your stomach drops as the scene splays out before you. There’s red all over the floor, Kiyoomi’s hands, and most horrifying - all over Ryouta’s nose and mouth as the barrage of fists lands over and over again— and you let out a horrified gasp. The damage has already been done, the brunet lays back with swollen eyes and is no longer fighting back, and you’re basically stunned in place as his knuckles crack on his cheek again.

When you manage the next breath, you force out a call of his name between tears. “Hck- Kiyoomi- w-what are you-,” your voice sounds too tiny to be your own, but any more volume doesn’t make it out of your throat, “please stop.” The last crack that resounds before he stops is even harder than any of the ones before— and he gets up without a word, smoothing his jersey back in place. He only quiets a moment, before turning over his shoulder to look at you. You, wobbling toward him like a baby deer.

Honestly, you don’t want to worry about him. But you can’t help but take his hands in yours to inspect the split knuckles, bloody and bruised— as if this is some bizarre dream. Kiyoomi’s precious about his hands. They’re his dreams, his passions, and his opportunities all in one, something to be cared for, rested gently like they mattered more than anything else. And now they’re bloodied like animals at the slaughter. When you look up at him- there’s no regret, no worry or care or concern. Just a blank sort of faux-understanding of your worry when he reaches out to brush your cheek.

You pull back away to look instead at the young man on the floor, because if you think about it too hard, you might start sobbing. Your hands drop by your thighs and feel so heavy, tears drying on your face. “Why did you-”

“Got back from my run and he said he needed your help.” There’s a cold, detached resolution in his voice. “And I told him to forget it, and then he asked me what ‘the fuck’ my problem was.” You find yourself shrinking into yourself when his dark eyes shift to you, with that unreadable look in his eye once more. His hands are slid into his pant pockets with a soft sigh, but he still raises an eyebrow your way. “Why would another guy need my girl?” Ryouta’s been nothing but nice to you since he moved in. You believed, maybe mistakenly, that that niceness had extended to your boyfriend.

But staring at the poor, battered face of the guy on the floor— something tells you that even if it did, Kiyoomi no longer cares. It feels like really, he’ll take any excuse to lash out. Your eyes flick over his face again, before swallowing. “I don’t know. Maybe it was a misunderstanding.” For the first time since you’ve noticed this new side to him, you’re truly scared when he eyes you down. You’ve been upset, and worried, and angry before - but this is new. As the only sound between you two is the shallow rise and fall of your chest, you try to walk up and wrap your arms around his bicep. “I love you, Kiyoomi. I have only ever… loved you.”

He frees a hand to run it over your hair, before leaning down to rest his nose at your crown. “I know you do. You’re a smart little thing, that’s why I like you.” His training jacket still smells like mint and eucalyptus wash sheets, and it does absolutely nothing to soothe the aching pressure that makes its way between your ears and squeezes. And the soft kiss to your forehead doesn’t, either. “Get back inside. I’ll be right there in a bit.”

+

Your apartment is barely a shell of itself now. You realize it -truly realize it- when you toss and turn in your bed and can’t help but get stuck on little things that shouldn’t matter, but they do. The sheets are different, silkier somehow. Kiyoomi got new toothbrushes instead of the old ones with dolphins, and your entire apartment smells just different enough to make it pressing. Slightly bleachy, and too hospital-like. A blue haze is cast through the window by the moon when you softly slip out of bed, ignoring the way a soft puff comes from your boyfriend. He doesn’t stir as you move, though his empty hand seems to reach for the heat you left. Normally you’d wonder if he misses you when you go, but instead the reach just feels possessive. 

It’s like living with a brand new boyfriend all over again.

You don’t like it as much the second time, you realize, trying to choke down the bad air you’re breathing. As you wobble around in the dark, it’s hard to find your footing. The door clicks too loud for your liking when you brush it closed behind you, and slide down onto the couch as your eyes adjust to the dark. You feel like you’re hanging off the edge of falling apart as you look around the room— and try to think. That night when he came home, when he stared off into space and wouldn’t talk to you, your first thought was of another woman. Kiyoomi had never given you any reason to doubt.

He was handsome and intelligent and you were lucky to have him, but he always made it easy to trust him. If he wanted to be with you he’d be with you.

But as more and more days passed, small things got bigger. Not letting you call friends, not letting you dress how you wanted to, glaring at anyone who so much as looked up at you on the street. He’d never been so possessive when things were good. Still, you don’t want to mourn a relationship that isn’t even over yet. You cover your sniffles into your hand, and get up from the couch to go search through his jacket for his phone, or wallet. A stray bobby pin or earring, anything to make sense of the mess inside your head. You wouldn’t be proud of this in the morning - but your brain is eating itself alive. The apartment’s so quiet at night, and the old building pants and moans in the darkness.

The small closet is hotter than the rest of the apartment, more damp too. The jackets are piled high on the dryer, and though you shove your hand down every pocket, your search turns up empty. After a few seconds of turning the last pair of pockets inside out, you sink down into a crouch— and take a deep breath. Just a few weeks ago, you’d thought that you could see yourself marrying Kiyoomi. You’d spent hours by his side, convinced that no one in the world knew you better than he did.

A soft whistling noise sounds from behind the dryer, and makes you wipe your hand under your nose. There’s an old door to a bricked up stairway here, that you never got any use out of. Kiyoomi once stored some brooms there, you think. You don’t know what possesses you to slide your hands into the narrow space between the dryer and the wall and pull, but with some force- it moves. You strain to drag it aside until you jerk, scrambling up.

A track of blood.

Smeared over your normally proper linoleum, there’s a dried off-maroon that can only be blood, crusted onto the wood as a dark patch between the dryer and the door. Your chest caves. Instead of normal breaths, shallow gasps start making your entire body go solid and cold, and your throat dries up. This can’t … it isn’t real. Can’t be. Everything inside you tries to convince you that this is just a nightmare, but even as you pinch your arm hard, nothing happens.

Blood rushes to your bruised knees as you look around, trying not to panic too hard— instead put a shaky hand on the handle. It could be rusty water. A busted pipe. As you move at a glacial pace to open the door, it creaks, and you lick your lips. You can’t cry. You want nothing more than to explode into a dam of tears and unload, but it’s like your body refuses. Every second makes your body pump with adrenaline, until the door clicks open and reveals the narrow space - and in it, something that doesn’t make sense.

Blood pools on the floor, dulled, matted and a disgusting, sticky mess that has you gasping; only to hold back a gag. But in it, sits the slumped, unmoving body of your boyfriend.

The same boyfriend you were sleeping next to just a few minutes ago.

Every hair on your body rises when you choke on the smell, and sink down to press your fingers to his pulse— even when the off white pallor of his face says everything it should. “Omi?” You whisper, and when you breathe out, your throat closes up. You want to wake up. Your first coherent thought is that you can’t breathe; the next, to run. There’s no more heat in his skin, icy to the touch, and it frightens you so much that you jerk back and slam the door to the closet, stopping abruptly between the couch and the door.

It’s when the lights flick on that you do regret that.

Kiyoomi’s voice sounds deeper when you turn. As he stares at you, he brushes his messy curls out of his face. “What are you doing?” You don’t speak. Nothing but a shallow hiccup makes it out of your mouth, but you’re still holding out your hands like they’ve been burned, and maybe that’s enough for him to slide his eyes over to the closet. For a moment it stays quiet. So quiet that you can hear the blood rush beneath your skin, pumping with adrenaline you have no room for. Kiyoomi’s dead. Your Kiyoomi’s dead, isn’t he. “Ah.”

“I- I-”

“You weren’t supposed to go snooping, angel. You’re really making things difficult.” The noiret’s quiet calmness makes way for a slight smile, before he steps out of the doorway towards you. And you flatten yourself to the wall on shaky legs, but moving any more than that feels impossible. You’ve never been so scared in your life— literally frozen solid to the wall as your panicked hiccups send tears welling up in thick, childish bubbles that refuse to tip. He gives you an up and down, before pointing at you as he walks over to the closet, and sighs. “Don’t move.”

You couldn’t, even if you had the courage to. And you very much don’t. It’s so cold— you watch as he pushes into the small room only to drag the body you’d left there out of it. The heavy scraping noise of a limp body across the floor is almost enough to have you totally break. When he dumps the body in the middle of your shared living room, you manage to let out a few noises, strangled, pathetic noises, before you wring your hands together. “W-what did you do to Kiyoomi?”

“I am Kiyoomi,” he says back with enough certainty to shake you, and then smiles a little when finally the tears spill, and you shake your head left and right through your panic.

“You’re not—” is all you can squeak before he walks up to you too close and grabs your face, leaving sticky cold blood with his touch. Your cheek is almost held lovingly, but one glance up at his eyes convinces you that it’s anything but. It’s predatory, a mean glitter of amusement that plays in the darkness, and the harder you cry, the giddier it seems to get. “Let me go, p-please,” you sniffle, “let me go. I won’t tell, I just don’t wanna be- h-here.”

“Shhh, we might as well pretend I’m him still. You look so cute whining that name like it’s your fucking job.” He takes you by the hand after pressing a brief kiss on your forehead, and then sits you down onto the couch. And your chest still feels much too rattled to think about running anywhere, but when he pushes one finger into your mouth with a slight grin, you consider it. “Don’t know any better, do you?” He groans. You want to bite and run, and hide until everything stops pounding— but run where? Your boyfriend’s cold on the floor of your apartment. You can barely stop crying for long enough to take a breath, and the man above you pushes another finger down your throat. “Such a pretty little girlfriend I’ve got- look here-” 

You do - can’t help it when the pressure starts choking you, and whatever frightened look you’re giving him, is enough to make him groan long and hard. It fucks with your brain. It’s still your boyfriend- looks, smells, tastes the same- and if you stop paying attention for a few seconds, it’s almost like everything is back to normal. It’s almost like you’re safe as long as you pretend not to notice what’s going on around just you and the invasive touches that are forced onto you. “Man, you look so fucking wrecked, baby. Say my name, won’t you?” His grin is wide and cheshire-like when he leans in and starts nudging your top down your shoulders. “Say ‘please, Kiyoomi’.”

He doesn’t move his fingers out of the way to allow you. Instead you whimper around his fingers, and try not to choke as spit gets all over your chin and his hand. “Pwea-se, Kiy-oomi.”

“Hahah, you’re so fucking nasty, getting spit all over me. Drooling like a fucking dog while you’re being forced— You like whining and moaning for me?” He takes his fingers out to wipe them on your flimsy camisole and stands to start sliding down his boxers, pushing you back towards the couch. The small grin changes to a tight grimace when you try to grab at him for comfort. “Ah ah ah, don’t think so.” There’s a fistful of hair in his hand before you can apologize, as he shoves you face down towards the couch and holds you there, cheek pressed to the rough fabric. Until your face is hung just off the side, and you’re forced to face the trail of blood that ends in a familiar face.

It’s horrible, and the harder you squeeze your eyes shut against the wave of fresh tears, the deeper the image seems to force itself into your brain. “Kiyoomi~” You whimper pathetically, and he hums in response. Everything’s too close, too loud, his touch is too real and too pressing and warm— burning you from the inside out as he yanks your clothing the last bit down until it hangs around your waist and he drags his fingers up and down your slit through your panties a few times. It leaves the wet fabric awfully sticky against your pussy, and your cheeks get hotter. It’s not your fault, his fingers work you in ways that always work. That thought has your eyes flicking open, but the horrific sight has yet to disappear. “Mh-hck,” you start up again, and try to roll aside as he grabs your thigh hard to hold you in place. “I wanna stop. I wanna stop.”

“Aw, poor baby. Poor angel.” The dismissive tone is cooed as a loving mockery when he pushes you down between your shoulder blades and yanks your panties the rest of the way down. “You don’t even know what to do with yourself, huh?” He then yanks your head up so you’re forced to stare at your reflection in the window, unable to see anything else. You can’t close your eyes to hide from it. Kiyoomi’s grabbing you tight enough to have you unable to move. “I’ll give you a hint. You lay here and you take it. You just listen nice and sweet, ugh-” He groans low when pushing the hot head of his cock against your entrance, patting it with a patient sigh— only to push in with a force that makes you jerk.

Why does it hurt so much? You wanna cry harder when he forces all the heavy girth of his cock inside you and the wetness dripping between your legs squelches loud, but your throat’s too clogged to. Instead only a pinched moan comes out, and he grunts when bottoming out deep inside you. “Girls who don’t listen make me wanna cut them open and eat their insides out. Would you like that?” The pull on your hair forcing your head up is making you lightheaded. That, and the stinging, uncomfortable tightness inside your pussy, squeezing and clenching against the intrusion - still isn’t enough to drown out the horror of those words as he whispers them.

Almost instantly you shake your head left and right, and your muffled ‘no’s melt into a childish cry. “No, nonono, Omi- ‘yoomi- I, no~ pleas-hck- stop. Wanna stop.” He pulls back his hips for long enough to really let you feel the ache of your walls as they cling to his cock, but then thrusts back in and bounces you on his cock. He drops your head back to the side of the couch, and places a hand in the middle of your spine to anchor you down under his weight. 

“You don’t? I think you’re lying. You want to be treated like a sack of meat.” His hips make a loud sound when connecting with your ass. “You don’t like this?”

“Ow, oww, Omi- ‘hurts-” You’re fighting against the caving of your chest each time you exhale, and forced to take shorter breaths each time he fucks back into you. “Ah, ow.” And your pussy hurts, but the rolling of his hips and the stubborn, deep grinding is too overwhelming. You hate that you can hear the wetness of your cunt squeezing around the pumping of him inside, you hate the way he breathes above you, how you can feel him everywhere. It makes you sick. It’s all too much, and still it feels so fucking good that you’re hot in the face. “Mhm~ ‘m sorry. I’m sorry.” You blink through the tears to stare just a second at the trail of blood that he made from the closet to the couch— but you can’t make yourself look any closer. Instead you aim your eyes back at your reflection, and meet other eyes.

“You haven’t wanted to play with me much since I got here. ‘S your own fault that I’m all pent up now, stupid girl.” The steady rhythm in and out of your needy pussy is too much. It feels so good— and you hate it. You clench your hands into the couch as best you can and try to hang on, until your knuckles turn white. The noiret’s voice is back to taunt you, this time as his other hand reaches around to grab the soft of your throat and squeeze, shaking you back to him. “If you want your nice, reliable Kiyoomi, look- he’s right here for you.” You can’t. You can’t. Your tears well over in ugly rivers that you shut behind your lids, and Kiyoomi makes a noise.

You can’t tell if it’s a pleased noise or not, you don’t care. He rolls his hips, and your cunny accepts too eagerly. But it still feels so fucking good. And you can’t stop yourself from feeling like the worst person in the world. Your hands shake, and your head feels faint. Kiyoomi’s dead. There’s nothing else to know. Kiyoomi’s dead and you’re about to cum getting fucked— your whimper gives you away. It’s faint, but he hears it. “Hm, you don’t like him either now huh?” Instead of squeezing your throat, his hand moves to grab your tit instead, pinching your puffy nipple until you can’t help but make a noise. You’re so gross. And your pussy’s still pulling him back in, clenching to the pulsing heat as it fucks right into the softest part of your walls. “I- agh, f- I like bullying my pretty little cock sleeve to tears. So- f-fucking cute like this.”

He ruts into you until your belly feels hot and tingly, and you grind back against him on instinct. You’re getting so close, the pinching, the precise way he hits the needy spot deep inside you - you don’t even want to. “No, no- Omi, I’m- agh, please stop.” You really don’t. “I’m- I’m gonna—” But before you can stop it, your eyes squeeze shut, and your entire body goes tense. The tight ball of heat that’s been expanding all over your body with each pump, each time his heavy balls slap against you, explodes into a million pieces. “Kiyoomi, I love you, I’m so- sorry, I’m so sorry, it’s— all my fault.”

As he fucks you through the blooming heat and the white and black spots that play on your lids, he groans your name low and possessive. Your clenching only slows way after you’ve grinded yourself back against him and drooled all over the couch, until your tired body drops back into the plush. And Kiyoomi lets out a little chuckle. “Yea, it’s all your fault, stupid girl. You lay here and stay— I’ll be right back.” You barely feel the heat leave until it comes back, shoving some of the wetness from your sensitive pussy right back inside with a grunt, and a harsh tap of his hand to your pussy. The sting is sharp, and you glare through your tears as you look up. Not that he cares. “Here. Look. Kiss it.”

The sharp blade that’s basically shoved in your face glints when you hesitate, and suck your bottom lip into your mouth. “Come on. Or else I’ll put it to use on him instead, and you don’t want that, do you?” Your lips press against the cold metal, but your eyes stay resolutely on his face. Dark curls framing dark eyes and long lashes — you often told him he was the most beautiful man you knew. You wonder if he remembered it in the end. You suppose it doesn’t matter though, watching his mirror click his tongue.

“Good girl, such a good baby girl under all the crying and mess, aren’t you? Almost make me think you like me better like this after all.” You can’t answer, but the tears that wobble sadly along your waterline spill over in the silence— and your lip wobbles. And Kiyoomi only brushes a thumb along your lip, before shrugging. “No? That’s a shame. Because you are mine now. Mine. All of you.” He points the knife into the top of your leg, and leaves behind a mark that immediately wells up with dotted red. The immediate pain and sting of hot blood sears through your skin. “Tell me again what name you want me to write? Say it nice and sweet, angel.”

Your voice doesn’t shake as much as you think it should. “Kiyoomi.”

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2023. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[leah-lover]

Royal support final part.

Jenni Hermoso x Alexia putellas x royal!reader.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

You could cut the tension out with a knife. With the future of our relationship at stake neither one of us dared to talk about it. 

“ How about we eat something first. Are you hungry?” asked Jenni with the sweetest expression on her face. 

You wiped your tears away by the back of your hand and noded in agreement. 

“ What do you say to a grilled cheese and smoothie?” Asked Alexia while her hand caressed your cheek. 

“ Only if I get to watch you two make it for me.” 

“ Of course princess.” 

The tree of you headed to the kitchen where you sat on a stool near the counter and watched as your girls made and plated your snacks.

“ Careful it's hot.” Warned Jenni but it wasn't fast enough. You had already burned your tongue slightly. You fake cried which led Alexia to come to your side and blow on your tongue to alleviate the pain. You took her lips in for a searing kiss like you did earlier in the night. 

“ You can't leave the royal family. It's everything you have ever known. We can't have our relationship weighted by such a heavy burden.” Said Jenni from the other side of the counter 

“ I know how much you guys love football so I can't ask you to leave that either.” you add. 

The air was filled with sadness. Neither one of you dared to speak of the third option. 

“ I can't imagine my life without the ability to taste you again. I love you carino.” Added Alexia with a look of sadness you have never seen before. 

You thought to yourself for a moment. What could you possibly do to contain this relationship? You have a duty  to  your country and to  your people. You are the heir to the throne. You are required to have heirs and uphold the status quo the family kept for so many years. You are required to rule and be present. You can't keep sneaking from the palace to see your lovers who are now prominent public figures. 

“ Five years.” You say. “ Five years is the amount of time left in your careers right?” 

They both nod in confusion.

“ We prioritize our professional lives for 5 years. And once you two retire and escape the limelight and craziness of fans, you live near the place, become friends of the crown, we can live, travel together, have lunches and dinners without anybody suspecting a thing. Just two women who have been long term friends with the queen hanging out with her. You would have fulfilled your dream career and I wouldn't make a big sacrifice.” 

They both look at you puzzled. You can't understand their expression or what is going on in their mind. 

“ But If you are the queen you need to marry and have children.” Said Jenni. 

“ I will sort that out, a marriage for appearances. We would only sleep together to have one baby.” 

Alexia suddenly turned very possessive. 

“ You are mine.” She said, 

“ I am yours and Jenni's and nothing is going to change that. I will only sleep with you and come on your terms.”

“ Will we see each other in these five years?” 

“ Yes but not as often as we do now. Just think about it please?” 

Each one of you spaced out in their own world and not another word is spoken for a long time. 

—-------------

Seven years later. 

“ Her Majesty the queen has announced that she is now on holiday when she spoke to the media on her last appearance at the butterfly foundation this afternoon. She has stated that  after 2 years of being queen of Spain a holiday is in order so that she can be present with her husband and her  5 years old son Alexis.” Said the article given to  your secretary which You just approved. 

You then leave your office. 

“ Ale, come on we need to go.” You semi yell to get your child’s attention. 

Once he joines you, you make your way to the car where Antonio is waiting for you. 

“ king fredric is already in the albeniz palace your highness.” said Antonio. 

“ Good, take me to my lovers then.” 

La mareta was a mansion far away from the palace and it was where your girlfriends were waiting for you. The 2 time world cup champion, 5 time ballon d’or winner Alexia putellas turned Alexia putellas Hermoso after she married her teammates and long time partner Jenni Hermoso who has now turned Jenni putellas Hermoso 5 years ago., was at near the pool with a laptop on her lap writing her long time awaited book when you entered the mansion. 

“ amor I am home.” You announced as you made your way inside the house. Your son ran to find Alexia while you spotted Jenni and ran towards her too. You locked her lips with yours as soon as you got to her, her hands were on hips while yours were on her shoulders. “ I missed you amor.” You say when you broke off the kiss. “ You won't feel like that ever again “ she responded before kissing you again. 

Your kiss was interrupted by sounds of laughter coming from the pool so you two went to check it out only to find Alexis in the water with a fully clothes Alexia. 

“ Mama, I didint mean to push mummy in the pool.” Pleded your son. 

You were surprised when Jenni pushed you too and jumped in herself. And in a  pool of laughter you greeted your other lover with a kiss. 

“ Welcome home.” She said when you two separated. 

She was indeed true because from that point on you found a sense of stability in your relationship. Your son grew up and when he was old enough you step down from your duties making him king while you lived the rest of you days at la mareta with your wives. 

[ericshoney]

Tantrum ~ Brothers!Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: Your brothers come home to hear that you've been having tantrums and soon find out why.

Warnings: possible swearing, nicknames, crying, shouting, kicking, mentions of throwing up, slight angst, fluff

Reader's age: 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They had no idea what caused it. MaryLou and Jimmy were so confused. Usually you were a calm child, but over the past few months, all you've done is scream and throw tantrums when something wasn't going your way or you heard the word "no". It never happened before, the only thing they could figure out was it happened once Nick, Matt and Chris had left for LA again.

With the triplets due home again, your parents knew to inform them, so when they took you out or played with you, they'd know.

Nick, Matt and Chris had just landed in Boston, being collected by their mum. MaryLou informed the trio about your recent behaviour whilst she drove home.

"She's been kicking and screaming whenever we have to leave somewhere fun. Whenever we say no, she'll start crying and whining. She even tried throwing up when we had to leave the park last week. Your father and I have no idea what's going on, all we know is she's been like this since you left." She told them.

"We'll see what we can do, mum." Nick said softly.

When they had arrived home and unloaded the car of their bags, they walked in expecting to see your smiley face, but instead they were greeted by their tired father.

"Hi boys." He said, helping them bring their bags in.

"Hi dad." They replied, giving him a hug.

"What's with the tired face?" Chris asked.

"Your sister, I told her she couldn't have ice cream until after lunch and she started screaming. She's in her room." He answered.

Your brothers sighed, not understanding the sudden change in behaviour. Was it the typical "terrible two's", or were you suddenly a trouble maker? Or just very energetic? You were a surprise to the family, nobody expecting your parents to have kids after the triplets, and as much trouble as you were being now, they still wouldn't change it.

"Let's go talk to her." Matt said.

The three walked upstairs to your bedroom, walking in and seeing you sat on your bed, cuddling a stuffed giraffe. When you saw them, your eyes lit up and you ran over, putting your arms up.

"Nick! Matt! Chris!" You shouted.

"Hi petal." Matt said, picking you up to hug you before Nick and Chris.

"We need to talk to you, sweetheart." Nick said.

You nodded and sat on your bed. They sat with you, Nick and Chris either side of you and Matt in front of you. You swung your legs gently.

"Dad told us you got upset." Chris began.

"Wanted ice cream." You admitted.

"Bub, it's nine in the morning, ice cream is after lunch." Matt said.

"Mum also told us that you haven't been the best behaved." Nick added.

You frowned and looked down, thinking you were in trouble again.

"You have to understand, sometimes no is the right answer, sweetheart." Nick continued.

"Not like it." You mumbled.

"We understand, kid, especially if it's something fun. But you gotta learn that you don't always get what you want. You can't be playing mum and dad up like this, it's not good." Chris mentioned.

"Dad put you in a time out?" Matt asked, making you nod in response.

"Five minutes." You said, holding five fingers up. Your parents put you in short time outs, knowing it wasn't the best thing, just giving your young mind time to relax.

"Okay. Tomorrow, we'll go out for a bit." Nick said.

"Day." You mumbled.

"No kid, tomorrow." Chris said.

This resulted in you whining and crying. The guys frowned as you kicked, luckily Matt's reflexes were working as he caught your foot, just before it hit him in the nose.

"No kicking!" Matt exclaimed, which made you stop instantly.

You cried and shouted about going out today. Nick, Matt and Chris calmed you down, which took a while, as you cuddled up to Chris, after him holding you tightly so you didn't try to hit them. You tired yourself out, falling asleep on Chris for an hour. None of the guys moved, knowing that would trigger you again, only talked quietly about their worries.

An hour later you had woken up. Your eyes were slightly red from the crying and your cheeks stained from tears. You had a small pout on your lips as you looked up at your brothers.

"Hey sweetheart, good nap?" Nick said, brushing the hair out of your face.

"Hmm, I sorry." You said softly.

"Good job for saying sorry, petal. Want to tell us what's causing this?" Matt asked.

"Miss you." You mumbled, playing with the zip on Chris' hoodie.

"We're here now, kid." Chris said.

"No go." You said.

"No go....You don't like when we leave to LA?" Nick asked, making you nod.

"Sweetheart, do you get upset when we leave?" Matt asked, making you nod again.

"Is that why you're acting out? To get us home?" Chris asked, making you nod for a third time.

"Oh darling, we're sorry you get upset when we leave, but you can't keep acting like this." Nick said gently.

"I know." You whispered.

"If you promise to stop having tantrums, we'll think of something to help when you miss us. We miss you too when we're in LA, but we're not kicking and screaming, only Matt over a game." Chris said, making you giggle and Matt roll his eyes.

"Okay, mad?" You asked.

"No, petal, now that you've told us we're not mad, but you need to stop having tantrums, it makes us, mum and dad upset." Matt answered.

You nodded and hugged each of them as another apology. You then went downstairs and apologised to your parents, whilst the guys explained what you told them. Happy to finally find the answers of your tantrums.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags:

@lgbtq-girl @mattsfavbigtitties @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @riowritesitall @sturniolo-fann

[pascals-doll]

 CONVENIENCE STORE

ellie williams x reader

『••✎••』 in which ellie self-loathed in her mistake as the weeks pass. you both went back to your regular lives, so will life spare a divine intervention? | WC: 12.0K

🫧 THIS IS A SERIES | FOR ALL PARTS GO HERE

🫧 SERIES MASTERLIST | CH.3 HERE

🫧SHE TOLD ME WATCH THE SNAKES CUS THEY WATCHING YOU! TYSM BABIES FOR THE IMMENSE FEEDBACK ON THE FIRST CHAPTER OMG 🥹!!

🫧description: MODERN AU! DESCRIPTIVE ANGST!, INTRO TO 2 IMPORTANT SIDE CHARACTERS!, latina!reader, descriptions of reader having bronze/tawny skin, mentions of religioius la virgen, a little bit of a abby mention ☺️, mentions of smoking marijuana, talk about about identifying sexuality, mentions of toxic relationships, bff!dina, reader speaks spanish! (very little in this this chapter), dina speaks spanish, reader’s nickname from her close friends is “gatà”, mention of y/n once (___), kissing! love reconciliation, use of pet name (mama).

CHAPTER TWO

oh, how Ellie texted you the morning right after as she woke up thinking about you. the way she grabbed her phone, opened the contact, and began to fly her fingers away in confidence.

Ellie had every intention of contacting you, she genuinely couldn’t get you out her mind as she had already put the lipliner you left her on her nightstand for safe keeping.

just like any regular person with the phone number of who they spent the night dancing with and even ending the night off with a kiss, you would think to text them.

yet, she sat there on her bed slightly hung over but Ellie truly believed that she could’ve been plastered, and she still would’ve remembered meeting you. she had her phone in her hands.

how hard could it be right?

how hard can it be to just type a quick message to the girl she over the moon infatuated with after the first night?

it was alot harder than ellie definitely thought….

Ellie wishes she could say that as she had her phone in her hand, her thumbs got to typing away with ease, and already asking you on a date.

a simple hello could’ve also just sufficed.

still, her fingers wouldn’t move, loosing control. it was like the wiring in her brain had short-circuited; a blank mind being the only thing processed.

in reality, she sat there with phone in hand, staring at the blank blue bubble waiting to be written in.

it had been 2 weeks since the night of the party.

2 weeks.

two weeks.

how did Ellie fuck up this badly?

she wasn’t quite sure, but she had been living in an eternity of pity and grimace since then.

why?

it was because only Jesse’s ass could be spending almost any given moment he has on the phone with Dina while Ellie couldn’t even send you one damn text.

one night Ellie came back from home working late-night at Joel's car-shop.

she was beyond exhausted and the first thing she heard as she walked through her shared apartment with Jesse was Dina's laugh.

Ellie was happy Jesse finally found someone he genuinely likes but it was her own 'pussy-ness' that irked her.

she practically dragged herself to her room in her own wallow but of course, Jesse wanted to greet his best friend.

"hey Els! how was work with y'old man?" Jesse questions, approaching you while still on the phone.

"fucking mute that shit!" Ellie panicked as she whisper-shouted like she was going to be caught or seen. Jesse rolled his eyes before pressing mute on the Face-Time.

"bro what the fuck is wrong with you?" Jesse retaliates, he looked at her like she was wielding a gun around.

"what the fuck! nothing!" Ellie sneers out harshly like as if she wasn't the one causing a scene.

Jesse huffed out but before he could speak, a familiar voice rang through the speaker of his phone.

'Deens! I brought my mom's menudo! your favorite!'

She knew it was your voice, even off one night with you.

she would be able to recognize your voice anywhere.

Jesse watched how you relaxed when you heard her, completely pulled into a trance in a matter of seconds between a phone call that wasn't yours.

"do me a favor—and a favor for yourself, text her for fuck-sake." Jesse sighs out, shutting the door to your room.

Ellie was sure it was too late to try again now.

it was too late all because of her own overthinking.

she was sure it would take a miracle to get another chance with you.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

on your side of things, you felt completely fooled.

when you woke up the next morning and finally was conscious enough to check your phone; just to see your notification box empty.

could you even be angry at Ellie?

you would begin to slightly overthink.

you didn’t know why you cared so much, you were cross-faded half the night and it was just a party….so why couldn’t you stop thinking about her.

you’re not gay…..well…no….ehhh..

you literally felt so stupid as you mentally pondered with yourself. even if it was just drunk you acting up last night.

you remember it so vividly and clearly, there was no way you could try to play this off.

“que piensas, gatà?” Dina huffs out, bagel in hand as she throws herself on her bed right next to you, referring you to the name she's been calling you since 7th grade.

“has he texted you?” you gave Dina this look which Dina reciprocated by arching one eyebrow in case you were trying to insinuate something.

“girl…he called me!” she looked around with an exaggerated look of shock with a hand on her heart causing you to giggle out with her.

you let out a whistle at her playful smugness “‘atta girl!” you were happy that at least one of you got a message back.

"What!? did she not text you?" Dina asks you slightly shocked, Dina did not miss the little kiss you had shared last night.

you didn't even meet her gaze, just twiddling with your thumbs.

"no... but I mean, she was just another person at a party that you have a good—" you rambled, trying to convince yourself more than you were trying to convince Dina.

she quickly cut you off "yeah babe, but that was with men and during all those stupid little breaks that dick claimed were needed." Dina begins. you already know what she was getting at.

"hoe, if you don't look at me."

you brought your eyes to meet with Dina's.

"look I know we made out in 8th grade—" Dina chuckles out which causes you to groan out annoyingly. you throw one of her stuffed animals at her; she caught that shit with ease.

"Dina!" you beam out, you were internally cringing for some reason and felt anxiety bubbling inside you out of the blue.

"babe! you were on gay shit last night. somebody had to say it." Dina could've worded this so much better, but it was Dina.

she was going to put it in the only way your current stubborn self would understand; by being blunt.

you weren't shocked.

you weren't acting as if hearing those words make zero sense to you.

you were confused, maybe slightly ashamed too.

you couldn't quite put a pin in your emotions which was now causing an inner distress to ignite.

"I-I-am....I-I" you sounded like an infant trying to mutter your first word.

que mierda, fucking get it together.

you internally scolded.

"___, I'm not telling you anything. I'm just saying that Ellie is definitely a lesbian and she made you feel something. that is okay—i mean girl! you were with your ex since our highschool sophomore year....do you really even know yourself—like that at least?” Dina was your closest friend and each word that fell from her lips was for your own good.

you needed to open your eyes.

yes, you were so assured of yourself and your life.

yet, you let someone dictate for so many years how to feel. you were never sure of your emotions till now; but you still find yourself struggling with the aftermath of how he treated your feelings as you forgot how to treat your own.

just having to recollect the memory of it, how he could take the power away from your words.

it enraged you as you felt sick.

"no, he fucking deprived me of myself." you spat out, a slight shake in your voice at the mix of emotions. you wanted to cry; not knowing why.

Dina got closer on the bed to now be completely side by side with you. she pulled you into her embrace from the side.

"you deserve to find out, it is your life now." Dina reassures you, calming you down.

she was 100% right.

you deserved the opportunity to find out who you really are, not just naive high school you because you were way past that time.

you needed your mental to catch up with you after being under someone else's impression.

you were going to do just that.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

after that morning after the party; for the next 2 days, you hoped for something.

a text or a call.

you got nothing.

you will say you thought about Ellie quite often, but you gave up hope she would contact you what felt like to be a while ago now.

you had a life to get back too, you were too slightly egotistical to let yourself get too wrapped up in ‘what if's'.

you weren’t quite sure now on your whole self-discovery journey.

you weren’t reliant on the woman but the way you couldn’t even restock items while you were at work without thinking back to her.

the way Ellie felt.

the way she felt on you.

you recalled every single little thing about her like you had been precisely studying a subject for school.

the way her lips fell perfectly into yours.

the way her warmth was able to whelm you in.

the way she was able to pull you into her by doing nothing.

she had completely contaminated your membrane with just her.

it was becoming infuriating as the days pass.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

Ellie was beyond fed up with her mind.

anywhere she went, almost everything reminded you of her.

it felt like universe was trying to rub her stupid mistake in her face.

Ellie was working another day at the car shop with the clock reading 5:40 pm.

the sun had begun to set as she finished up the last tweaks, she needed to make on the car's engine she was working on.

she wiped the slight sweat off with the back of her wrist as her hands were covered in black grease.

"why don't you g'head on home, kiddo. I’ll finish it up." Joel perks up from behind as he placed the toolbox he brought in on his workbench.

"you sure?" Ellie questions as she walks over to the utility sink at the far corner of the repair-shop.

"Yeah, I gotta work on that client's tires—the one I told ya he came in makin' a fuss his tires weren't low enough." Joel chuckled out slightly at the end which caused Ellie to give a soft giggle.

"you talkin' about Sergío?" you recall a couple months back how a man came into the shop with the coolest lowrider she had ever seen up-close.

"yup. that's tha'man." Joels southern accent draws out.

"he should be comin' in soon" Joel told Ellie as he began to move the car Ellie finished up into the lot with the rest of the other vehicles.

now you could call Ellie crazy for this but there was no way this was coincidence.

Ellie was sat on the stool, sipping on a soda as she took her small break as she watched the familiar old school impala drive up.

the blaring headlights caused her to raise her hand, shielding her eyes with the long of her arm.

Ellie's vision was obstructed temporarily but as it quickly refocused; she immediately noticed the huge rosary pendant that hung from the man's rearview mirror.

it was the same religious female procession that was on your lighter.

for some reason whenever she thought of you, she would then see an image or an item of the beautiful prophet.

call Ellie delusional......but to Ellie, this was a sign.

if this is you, please let me see her again. she mentally prayed for.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

more days passed during these dreadful two weeks.

the both of you lived in sync as you both spent time moping over each other during your daily duties of life.

another day where you were having an unpleasant smoke session. you usually would roll up after you got out the shower, depending on the weather for your drink of choice.

you would have a hot tea or iced latte to go with the lit joint in your hand as you sat on your woven chair outside of your porch.

your mind couldn't even relax as you inhaled your kush, you would ask yourself if it was something about you that made her 'unattracted' to you.

she probably thought you were one of those girls…

you felt yourself physically cringe at the fact you even thought that.

you truly just didn't know.

Ellie had been the first woman to ever give you enough attention to have you really question yourself.

couple months before you left after the college semester finished, there was this girl in your finances class that had sat down next to you.

she had the strongest female physique you seen, her arms showing she was a gym-rat.

you even remember her name being Abby, she was sweet when she flirted with you.

it had been the first time a woman ever flirted you which automatically caused your body to flush and grow shy.

you remember shutting the poor girl down by just switching your seat, not really processing the fact she had just flirted with you.

you rubbed your head slightly as you continued to drag out your joint, puffing your smoke out after each inhalation.

this situation is different, you weren’t in a relationship this time.

you had already got a taste of Ellie and now it was something turned gluttonous.

you ash your roach before grabbing your bag and heading off to work; your brain tingling still over the auburn beauty.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

you worked in a convenience store; it was owned by your family. more specifically, your tía owned the store ever since your tío had passed away a couple years ago.

she needed help with the store, so you quit working as a sale's assistant to spend half of your day behind a counter.

you honestly thought this was better than the shit you called your old job, you were practically your own boss all day.

the convenience store was located at the corner of a cold-de-sac.

it wasn't too far from a couple car-repair shops and a plaza that had a few options of chain-stores.

your family made a lot of connections through the shop. you would say that the area you lived in was community dominated and tend to be the same community who have lived there since you were born.

your convenience store was like the hot spot for your neighborhood due to the popularity of your tío before his passing.

this made your heart full, and it was worth it every time one of the regular's came in, like right now.

"aye! Pachuco!" you shrilled in pure excitement as one of your dad's friends that you grew up with walks in through the front door.

your convivence store was a little bit different than your regular 7/11 or liquor store.

the counter was all the way in the back, so it would be a bit hard to see who's coming in unless you look at the reflective circular mirror that was at each corner.

Pachuco dressed exactly like his name though, you could not miss him from miles away.

"como estas, neña!?" you leave your section behind the counter, greeting him as you smile at his term of endearment.

you enjoyed the times your job and store gave you, especially moments like these because you never knew if it could be someone you knew who can walk through the doors at any moment.

"I've been good! what will it be today?" you question happily as you get back behind the counter.

"how's that little boyfriend of yours?" the question was a harmless one, he didn't have a single idea that you guys broke up, but you still felt yourself wince at the mention.

"aye pachi, boys will be boys." you state simply, not wanting to get into it.

he observed your demeanor as you pulled out his favorite pack of cigars from the back-shelving.

"then just two Tylenols, gracias Mija—ay! what did i tell you? don't fuckin' date this age. to be honest, we never stop being dumbasses! Jaja—es un milagro que mi esposa no me haya dejado!" Pachuco laughs out as he pays.

you let out a laugh with him before giving him one last hug before he is on his way out, waving goodbye and throwing him a smile.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

“so kiddo….y’tellin’ me that you finally get a girl that gets—you— t’dance and y’dont text her?” Joel summarizes to his understanding at Ellie’s rundown of that night while cleaning grease from the wrench he held.

Ellie just stood there with an awkward look on her face “I thought I raised you right…” Joel grumbles out teasingly.

the awkward look completely fell into a straight-doomed face “jokes kiddo! jus’jokes!” Joel chuckles out, putting the wrench down and popping the hood of the car he was working on.

“ugh! why did I even tell you!” Ellie now began to complain, throwing her gloves off and onto the chair she was once sat on.

“oh, c’mon now! jus’admit it….it was love at first sight.”

the phrase his Ellie’s ears completely drowning out all her sense.

Joel’s voice echoed through her ears with only you as the single thought that lied on her head for what felt like was already decades.

“you wouldn’t even believe her beauty, man…”

Joel knew you were kind of-talking to him, but you were so lost in thought it was almost as Ellie was trying to process it herself still.

“alright alrigh’—why don’t you go down t’store and get us couple drinks, yea?”

Ellie agrees with a nod her head before hold her palm out towards Joel’s direction.

“what?” Joel questions with a hip popped as he works on the popped-hood.

“the money, fam” Ellie remarks simply.

Joel’s expression glazed as ellie continues for stand there with a cheeky expression causing a roll of his eyes.

“fine ma’treat” he mocks out, pulling out a 10 from his jean-pocket.

“awh! thank you Joel.” Ellie’s tone was sarcastic as she threw joel a goofy grin that joel returned.

“you almost 21, y’know that right?” Joel interjected sassily with an eyebrow raised.

“that’s why you let me near the stove now!” ellie bantered childishly before grabbing her headphones; leaving out the car-repair lot.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

♫₊˚.🎧 now playing: land of the snakes

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

Ellie walked down the cracked gray pavement as she took in her surroundings.

she observed each end of each street, looking at the street signs as she walked down; headphones blasting Cole.

she looked at the gas stations, smoke-shops, and laundromats as she crossed the cross-walk as she turned the street more into the busy neighborhood.

she peered an eye-out for a store as her head moved to the beat of the music, the buzzing of the street inaudible to ellie.

she watched as a group of women were walking up with different drinks in her far-view from more down the street.

Ellie followed the direction from where they came from turning the corner. at first, she was greeted with a plaza and a parking lot.

she passes the plaza slightly and it was almost hidden if a person werent looking in the right direction, they would miss it.

Ellie did not miss the store that she assumed the girls must’ve come from.

she couldn’t miss it when the convenience store had a mural of La Virgencita.

Ellie stopped dead in her tracks, only paying attention to the music in her headphones as she couldn’t fathom it.

♫ ain't no wedding and I do the most here

I'm the President you the co-chair.

you the player, yeah, I'm the coach here.

—I coast here.

this weather got me set up on this West Coast shit, yeah ♫

Cole playing in my ear and im seeing this? fuck my life.

Ellie pondered to herself as she just stared at the store, taking in the mural while the lyrics rang through her mind straight into the recollection of you.

her mind recalling your brown skin and the your gold jewelry sparkled as your eyes pierced through her.

she could feel her heart pounding against her chest as she observed the beautiful painting on each side of the store.

Ellie felt she was going mad but every single part of her reeling her in like fish on a rod.

she felt closer to you somehow.

like as if you were there.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

call yourself unprofessional but it wasn’t like you worked in a office or something.

if that was the case, you definitely wouldn’t be rolling up like you are right now.

you took the split cigarillo that was now packed with good greens up to your lips to lick a slick stripe along the cigarillo before pinching it sealed.

you grabbed your lighter, flicking it open as you focused on the ignited flame; drying your saliva into the blunt.

your focus was interrupted by the sound of the store-bells chiming.

no mamés—im on my fucking break. did they not read the fucking sign.

you complain mentally as you remember switching the ‘We’re Open’ to ‘Closed’.

you walk out from the backroom where the surveillance cameras were back behind your counter.

you knew someone entered but you couldn’t see who.

you decided to duck into the room real quick to put the rolled blunt into the wrapper; placing it in your sweater-pocket.

♫ nothin’s impossible

and all you lame—show me what not to do

i met a real bad bitch in the club tonight

she told me, “Watch the snakes ‘cause they watching you” ♫

Ellie was greeted with aisles of merchandise the second she walked in. she took a few steps down, passing a few aisles as she got closer to the section of refrigerators.

she wasn't paying attention much to her surroundings as she just took in the style of the store. she moved one-side of her headphones off her ear before opening the fridge and grabbing a lemonade for herself, and a sparkling water for Joel.

Ellie turned the corner, catching a glimpse of the clerk counter but she didn't see anyone behind it. she went down the aisle that was now in-front of the counter, grabbing her favorite bag of chips and a slim-jim.

now the next moment that happened.... Ellie swore it was all in slow motion.

if Ellie thought something was wrong with her brain before, her entire cerebellum just shut down for fucking sure.

she turned around with full expectation of having to wait and not seeing you behind that counter.

it genuinely was a miracle.

it was like the universe had been listening all along to the both of you, plotting this moment perfectly to unfold divinely.

Ellie dropped the snack items that were in her right hand, drinks in her left as her pupils flared. completely gleaming her eyes at you just standing there.

♫ now if you only had one wish is it devious?

'cause you already know who your genie is

ain't get a cover now your mag on my penis

like damn, he turned out to be a genius ♫

you felt frozen in place as you both burn into each other’s stare, neither of you processing the moment.

you caught a glimpse of the 'random woman' when her head was turned. she had her hair up in a loose bun and from the back—what looked like a black jumpsuit.

the second she turned around, your heart stopped.

you actually felt your heartbeat turn irregular as you were sure your eyes were gaping as jaw slacked obscurely.

you both were just gawking at each other absentmindedly. slowly, you began to remember how the woman didn't even text you and now here she was; meaning she lived in the area. your area.

you felt yourself emotions fume up "are you gonna pay or?" you nettled out, sounding way meaner than you meant too. you bit your lip in regret as you watch Ellie blink herself back into reality.

she took a step closer, still feet away from the counter you were behind. she tore her eyes from yours.

the woman didn't owe you anything but for some reason, you found yourself pushing for an answer "you come in here for that-" you began, taking your manicured nail and pointing at the items she held in her hands "or for somethin' else?" you finish questioning.

your tone was still bothered but you weren't rude.

Ellie didn't miss a single emotion though, feeling each one of your emotional vibrations straight into her heart. she wanted to open her mouth to explain everything.

in her heart, she was ready to tell you how you made her feel something no one else ever has before or how she wanted to ask you out to a fancy restaurant like she's never done because she's never met a woman who oozed of such divine elegance; while your looks could kill anyone with just one glance.

for fuck-sake, she's looks even better than I imagined.

Ellie knew this was the worse time to be checking you out, but this was something only Ellie had been dreaming about. she needed to soak in this moment.

you were wearing a black Juicy tracksuit; the zipper was halfway zipped revealing the pink halter that slightly pushed your breasts up complimented by your signature cat-eye liner and cocoa-lined lips.

your bronze skin shining through the same statement gold necklaces on the night she first met you, your hoops this time were small gold ones that Ellie didn't miss them. she took in the same details and your different ones.

you crossed your arms starting to get more irritated as you felt like the woman was judging you.... not checking you out.

“i-i’m—” ellie huffed as her eyes didn’t leave the floor before finally gaining the confidence to stride herself over and placing all the items on the counter.

“i’m sor-” you cut her off.

“i’m not gay.”

if you thought ellie’s facial expression was wistful and apologetic, her face went sour—completely deadpanning as each syllable was uttered out your mouth.

you jump immediately “wait!—” now it was your turn to take a breathe, Ellie didn’t move from her spot although her heart felt like it had been ripped out her chest.

“I’m not sure…. it’s a long story.” your explanation was pathetic.

"I was just gonna apologize...I see..." Ellie’s eyes trailed off from yours down onto the items on the counter as she dug into her pockets.

you examined her, trying to pick up on any sense of how she felt.

you looked at her up and down, she was wearing a mechanic jumpsuit that had a few stains and a white wife-beater under it. you felt yourself grow nervous at how good she looked; she looked worked out, but it made you even more attracted to her.

the small details of her becoming clearer as her freckles on her face were kissing her all across her cheeks, you took in how her clothing looked like she just came from a car-shop, and how her loose bun let a few free strands fall in her face.

you felt her rooted into you completely, just taking in her appearance bloomed your heart.

you felt yourself sigh once more, picking up the merchandise scanner and scanning each item. your hand wanted to shake so bad as the invisible blimps of your skin goosebump.

say something, say something.

your mind was burdensome as you force a sentence out of you "I'm-I'm on my break. the sign said closed." your voice was low, wanting to be hidden almost.

Ellie watches you bag her snack and drinks, rubbing the back of her neck to ease the tension that riled within her racing body; heart thrashing against her chest.

"the mural—it caught my attention.... I didn't even know there was a sign." Ellie's eyes meet yours once again.

"I understand if you didn't like me." you rush out, Ellie almost didn't catch it as you held onto her bag of items; she didn't even get the chance to hand you the 10 bill yet.

Ellie thought she was hearing things, there was no fucking way you just stated that shit.

she couldn't help but let out a very audible scoff.

"you ain't even let me say'somthin''" you could hear somewhat of a country undertone in her now loud and clear voice. nothing like the first night, where you could barely hear her.

you rolled your eyes as you felt no hope with the woman, handing her the bag.

"I never said that did I?" Ellie didn't hand you the bill yet, still in her hand. the way she let the sentence fall from her lips made your face hot.

she finally handed you the 10 "you said you were on your break?" she hinted as she held the bill in-between her fingers, making you grab it from her.

you lean in, reaching your hand out but not grabbing the bill "don'tcha know it's rude to interrupt a lady's smoke sesh?" you tease.

"m'sorry mama, any way to make it up to you?" Ellie slys out as you both flirt over the counter with each other like some shit out of a movie.

"join me?"

"i could listen to that 'long story' of yours"

you both gave each other a soft smile as you chuckled, finally taking the ten and putting it in the register before stepping outside your store with the fine roughed-up woman.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

the moment was picture perfect.

you both stood outside your shop, the mural captivating the background behind the both of you as you leaned against the gumball machines that were outside on the side of your shop-doors with Ellie in front of you.

you took the blunt out of the wrapper the cigarillo originally came in, taking it between your lips.

Ellie watched you bring your signature lighter up to the tip to ignite it. you puffed on it a couple times, flicking the lighter to crisp the edges to make sure it burned correctly.

you handed her the blunt, eyes meeting as you caught her staring. there was a moment of silence as she puffed herself. you kicked your feet up in a soft bored-playful manner as you continue to challenge your mental.

"Ellie..." you began, her name falling off like butter as it sounded like a lullaby to Ellies ears. she had all ears and eyes on you as she continued to drag out the blunt.

"I would love to tell you everything—but for right now...." you took a deep breath as you felt the cottonmouth begin to catch you.

Ellie leaned closer, putting a hand over yours comfortingly. she did it unconsciously, by the time she even realized she had her hand on your shoulder; she was already feeling ready to comfort you to even mentally process.

"that's okay-like I said, I'm all ears"

you couldn't process how compassionate she was with you as you spoke up.

"not too long ago, I broke up with a long-term boyfriend—he cheated that's not the point—the point is that.... I have never been with anyone besides him." you explain, your pauses being inhalations of the sparked bud.

Ellies brows furrowed but she listened to you intently, she couldn't believe a woman like you could ever be cheated on.

"I'm sorry, you don't deserve someone like that." she reassures once more causing your heart to skip a beat.

you disregard the comment by giving her a soft smile and passing her back the blunt, not wanting to focus too much on that aspect "I know I sound complicated, but I just never got the chance to figure it out" your voice was somber, picking at your fingers nervously.

your breath hitched as her hand gently picked up your face by your chin, her face a good distance from yours as the steps she took closer to you only closed the space that was left between the both of you.

"y'know that is not your fault right?"

those words brought you back to what Dina told you weeks ago.

"thank you...." you gave her a weak smile as you trailed off "not what you thought, huh?" you gave her this look of pity, not for her but for yourself.

"maybe not but to be fair, I was thinking a lot worse after 'I'm not gay' right then and there" Ellie lightens the mood by making the both of you laugh as you continue to smoke together.

"i may not know much—" you puff out before taking a couple more hits of courage out of your blunt.

"but I know I really like you, Ellie."

your voice was sincere, not a single doubt, or hint of all of this being a 'joke'. she searched your face to see any hence of regret or anxiousness. she found none.

your face was assured and if anything, you had straightened yourself up more which inched your faces closer slightly as your confidence flourished through you within seconds.

the switch up drove Ellie crazy.

your demeanor screaming 'I know what I want' and it was all pointing towards the woman in front of you in this dirty black jumpsuit which made her look ravishingly good.

Ellie followed your confidence naturally, something only you were able to derive out of her so easily.

she inched her face closer as you let out of puff of a cloud of smoke in front her face in a playful manner before her face met yours, now only feet away from yours.

"been one night and I already can't think of any other woman than you, mama."

your heart was running a thousand miles per second.

the same nickname she called you affecting you more than before.

"that why you ain't text me?" the real question of the evening.

the confidence Ellie had just gotten completely diminished.

"I'm not maddd" you drag out, reaching a hand to tug on her jumpsuit gently as you smirk. you weren't anymore.

Ellie was like putty under anything you did, your look and if you commanded her to do anything; she would do it in a heartbeat and Ellie knows she would.

just like that, her tense aura calmed down.

"i was so fucking ready to ask you out on some fancy shit. i was gonna tell you im picking you up at 7, having a whole ass bouquet while you stepped down all divine as fuck—i was so close! my fucking fin—"

Ellie couldn't finish your sentence by the crashing of your lips onto hers.

the kiss wasn't heated or fast, it was purely passionate. you both sulked into each other as your bodies needed this. you indulged in the warmth you both brought each other, your arms wrapping around her neck as the once lit blunt blew out while still in between your middle and ring finger.

the mix of the tobacco from the cigarillo creating a swish in the taste of each other's tongues in distasteful pleasure as neither of you could care or process anything besides being together right here in this moment like a heaven-sent.

if this was the work of the divine, ellie found herself mentally thanking them as your lips moved in sync together.

Ellie pulled away with the biggest smile on her face, biting her lips ever-so-softly before speaking.

"Is there any way tis'beautiful woman could spare a poor mechanic woman one more chance?" Ellie takes a hand, placing it across her heart dramatically causing small giggles to erupt out of you.

you pick up on how ellie mentioned she was a mechanic. ‘that’s so fucking hot’ you thought to yourself.

Ellie watched you in pure admiration and beauty "and what would that be, hmm?" you hum out contently, your forehead's brushing against each other.

"that date. you and me, and a fancy dinner—how about it, mama?"

Ellies eyes gleamed hopeful as your gaze's pour into each other.

"i thought you would never ask, bebé"

there you two were, rekindling outside of a convenience store.

dolls-taglist: ̗̀➛ @snowy-vee @elliesleftflap @tphmnv @starrkissezz @we-loveebony @lavenderhazelsworld @marsworlddd @littlegingerperson5 @kissthedewdrops @elliewilliamsgirl3 @graviewaviee @gato-chino @bunnyrose01 @bready101 @elliesgf1244 @deliriousrn @cosmopolitanaut @yumimak @elliewilliamgfooc

to join taglist click here !

[youkissedareaderinthedark]

Under the Weather

Synopsis: You’re sick. George’s sick. Someone else is probably going to get sick. It’s an interesting last race in Abu Dhabi

young female driver reader x 2023 F1 grid

A/N: this fic is pretty vague so i’m not going to give the reader a team or teammate, we just know that she’s a driver on the grid because that’s all we really need to know

. so

. you think you caught it in vegas

. it was colder than you were used to

. you barely got any sleep

. and even though you’re around hundreds of people every race weekend, las vegas felt more packed than a normal race would be

. and you were seated next to george, who’s been feeling sick for a few days at that point, for nearly all pre-race activities

. it was probably all of these combined that gave you a sore throat, stuffy nose, pounding headache, and persistent cough

. you knew the second you woke up thursday morning

. “it’s going to be a shitty weekend”

. the grid, however, did not know until thursday afternoon

. you came into the press conference room, bundled up in a long sleeve and hoodie, nose red with a scratchy voice

. you sit beside an amused lewis, resisting all urges to lay your head against the back of the couch and drift off

. “you okay y/n?”

. the only response he gets is a groan and small shake of the head

. “i’ll get you some tea when we’re done here love, you’ll be okay”

. lewis, who was always your favorite but now has new reasons to be favored, lets you rest your head against his shoulder and close your eyes while you all wait for the conference to begin

. word spreads by the end of the media day, and suddenly you have new reactions from the grid

. daniel walks through the paddock with you, never afraid of a little cough

. “lewis tells me you’ve been on your death bed over here. anything I can do?”

. he insist on giving you a hug and the recipe for chicken soup that he learned from his mum and now swears by

. max, who is afraid of a little cough, is the one who makes sure you’re not being harassed when trying to sleep

" max? who’s under the blanket-”

. “shush. she’s trying to sleep”

. “but who’s-”

. “I said shush”

. lando, a man who’s all too familiar with being clumsy, probably saves you a million times from walking into doorways, a drowsiness affect from the fever you keep insisting you don’t have

. he’ll keep a constant eye on you and hand on your shoulder as a precaution

. “let’s not go over there, that’s a wall”

. “y/n!”

. “mhm?” you’d say, eyes half closed with tiredness

. “that’s a door love, jeez, we should put a bell on you”

. carlos and charles, drivers who’ve had loads of experience taking care of sick younger siblings, make a team effort of ensuring you’re doing your best to get better

. “did you drink the water bottle I gave you?”

. “no”

. “did you drink anything today?”

. “no”

. “oh mon dieu you’re going to kill yourself like this”

. “just try to eat this okay? i know you’re not hungry amiga, but we have a race tomorrow, you need to eat something”

. “i got you more medicine, this one says it should take care of the cough and sneeze so you won’t have to worry about it during the race”

. and then there’s george, your sick partner in crime

. you two make a habit of trapping yourselves in one of your driver’s room

. half to prevent the sickness from spreading further, half to just be left alone

. you guys complain a lot

. take turns choosing movies to watch to pass the time

. reminding the other to take medicine, even though there’s a good chance that person probably hasn’t taken any medicine either

. and passing a bag of cough drops between each other

. as a teammate and friend, lewis tries to talk you two out of racing

. but neither budge

. you get into your car, nose still red and voice still scratchy

. and power through the race, just as you’d been taught to do

. george gets a podium and you get a good points finish, the best results you could’ve asked for considering the conditions

. and stumble out of your car once more, looking for a tissue and that chicken soup recipe

. you get checked on by multiple drivers, though the only response you’re able to give is a nod and thumbs up

. lewis accompanies you on your flight back home, and tries to help as much as you let him

. he feels a bit victorious when you say you wished you’d listen to him and not raced

. but the feeling is instantly replaced with sympathy for his friend, so he just nods and tells you to get some more rest

. after making sure you’re safe at home and surrounded by family and friends that swear on their hearts to take care of you, lewis leaves with congratulations on your season finish and wishes to get better

. you’re fine within a few days, you name the cause of your sickness “end of season fatiague” and ensure the drivers you made a full recovery by wednesday night

. so yeah

. it’s not fun at all to drive while you’re sick

. but it’s a bit easier when you have your friends looking out for you

short little f1 grid sick fic. let’s hope I didn’t just manifest myself a cold

[chrissdollie]

brat tamer matt x yn ?

hi!! to the other anon who req headcanons for brat!tamer matt, those'll come out later !

matt's little brat ♡

summary: matt giving the reader silent treatment to teach her a lesson bc shes being bratty :C warnings/notes: cursing, matt is kinda giving sugar bf vibes, silent treatment from matt, reader is a brat obv she may even get on UR nerves a little, NOT PROOFREAD!! wc: 1k

lets say you're out at the pool. matt's been ready to go, but he's let you have your fun. but he's tired and you guys have been out for hours!

you work hard too! he acts so big and tough as if he does all the work around here. yeah sure, he goes to work all day. but.. you uh.. you do...

you know what, let's just move on :)

when he's finally had enough of your excuses to stay, he snaps. "i said, let's go." his stern voice and impatient face makes you want to stomp your foot on the ground like a child. but you don't, you simply keep the annoyed look on your face. you fold your arms before snatching your stuff and walking to his car. he follows you, a small grin on his face.

you hate being pushed around, liked having freedom. matt always waited for you to say the 'lets go'. but not today. you begin to rant in the car when he's driving home. "i don't understand why i had to go! you could've left and i coulda caught a cab back. or i could've called nate."

the last part of your irritated ramble got to matt a bit. he frowned. nate, his best friend, always had a little bit of a thing for you, though he never gave him any trouble for it. nate's a good guy and he'd never step where he knows he's not welcome. but if you said the magic words, he'd totally try to get with you.

you're usually a good girl, however. you're aware of nate's feelings for you which is why you brought his name up to push your boyfriend's buttons.

this is when he starts to give you the silent treatment. not to punish you, though. he's just waiting for you to cool off. you continue to bitch and whine about how he was barely even interacting with you at the pool. he was on the lounge chair for most of the time and you were in the water by yourself like a loser. little do you know, he was busy on his phone looking at tiffany tennis bracelets to buy you for your one year anniversary

once you arrive at his apartment, you don't wait for him to come around to your side of the car to open the door for you. no, you grab your belongings and swing the door open aggressively. a small agitated pout has formed on your face and you rush into the lobby, leaving him behind (not really because he quickly follows you)

he can't really hold in his smirk anymore. he thinks its adorable when you get like this. all cranky and annoyed. his little brat ♡

you see this and it just makes you even more upset. but what really does it for you is when you two step into the elevator and he doesn't touch you at all. it's just you two and he's not giving you a sloppy kiss to get you all flustered. he doesn't even wrap his arm around your waist.

you practically sprint out of the elevator when you reach his floor. you get to the door and realize you left the key at your house, so you have to wait for him. you turn towards him with your arms crossed and suck your teeth impatiently. he doesn't make any effort to walk quicker though. he just smiles lazily, flinging the keys around on his finger.

"hurry up." you demand

he breaks eye contact, unlocking the door. you push past him to get inside first. you throw your stuff down on his leather couch and run into the en suite, locking the door when you get inside. he scoffs, his tongue swiping over his teeth in amusement.

almost two hours later, this little charade is still going on. you're only half as mad as you were before. to be honest, you were kinda tired of this act. you wanted to crawl into his lap and kiss his pretty face. but you're too petty to give in so easily

"you're so fucking mean!" you whine out, rolling your eyes when he looks up from his laptop with both eyebrows raised. he still doesn't speak, quickly removing his attention from you and back to his screen. "stop ignoring me." you spit. you're used to getting what you want from matt, so this really bothers you.

he chuckles. "mean, hm? aw, baby. you're gonna make me cry." he toys with you, pushing you further. whatever, you don't care. atleast he's talking now. you scoff, "i hope so!" though your words have no malice. he pushes his laptop off him and to the side. he pats his lap, testing to see what you'd do.

you fold your arms again and huff. you shake your head, your mouth closed shut. he sighs and mutters an "okay." he turns off his lamp and goes back on his computer. now you feel terrible. you want to beg for forgiveness and apologize for being such a punk. you're sleepy and there's no way you're gonna be able to without his comfort.

your forced angry face slowly contorts into a sad pout. your eyes get glossy and you get in bed next to him. "matt." you whisper, pulling gently on his arm. he holds in his smile, turning to look at you. you rest your head on his shoulder. "m sorry.. you're not mean at all. you're perfect."

he kisses your head sweetly. "that's okay, my love. you were just a little cranky today, huh?" he coos, and you nod your head tiredly, your vision already beginning to falter. he sees this, turns off his laptop, and puts it down on his nightstand. he pulls you to lay down so you can sleep. you rest your hand on his cheek, his stubble pricking you.

you slowly lean in to kiss his lips. his hand grabs your hip, licking your bottom lip. you pull back shyly and smile. he toothily grins. "such a bratty girl, aren't cha?" he teases, poking your side.

THIS IS KINDA SLOPPY SORRY </3 i have so much thoughts abt brat!reader x matt rn so theyre all kinda jumbled hehe

tags!! <3 @stargirlsturniololover @junnniiieee07 @mattsneezing @freshloveee @freshsturns @emma4eva

[lilpotatjj]

Here we go guys. Poll is over.

After NYCC we all know what Sam was thinking about John...let's just find out in what mood he was when he was with Cait all alone ;)

Warning: just sweet and adorable Cait and Sam. Some jealousy Sam and lots of kisses🫠

(GIF is not mine)

!You belong to me!

"Are you still hungry?" Cait asked Sam with a questioning face as Sam held the door outside for her. The NYCC was once again one of the big spectacles, just like every year. He hesitated thoughtfully. "Not really". The Scot made a strangled sound that did not go unnoticed. Cait looked at him quietly, thought her part and they both left the forecourt to Sam's car.

Back at the hotel, it was raining. It was a chilly October, rather unusual for LA's warmth. They both got out as Sam parked the car and walked through the large main entrance of the hotel. He was rather quiet until then. Unusual for him. The usually so jittery and yet relaxed Scotsman was anything but deeply relaxed, to Cait's disadvantage. 

'Ok Mr Heughan... are you going to spit out what's bothering you or do I have to tease it out of you?'. Her gaze playful, with an underlying seriousness.

'Nah...nothing,' he poured himself the whisky as they both arrived at the hotel room. His Sassenach whisky. He didn't get a chance to sip as Cait took the drink from his hand and almost emptied the whole glass herself in one big gulp. She frowned at him and he rolled his eyes, playfully annoyed. With a jerk, he drops onto the large, comfortable couch in the centre of the room and lets out an exasperated breath. 'Well... it's been an exhausting day today,' he rubs his face tiredly with his hand. 

'Aha,' says Cait ironically and sits down next to him with his glass in her hand. 'It was emotional...and we haven't had as many fans as today at the venue for a long time,' she said contentedly, draining her glass. 'But that's not it...isn't it?' she said. 

Cait set her glass aside on one of the dressers next to the couch. 

'Right,' he said 'Richard was still half drunk and Sophie was totally in her element'

'I see.' Cait raised her eyebrows questioningly and looked at him with mock conviction, crossing her arms. 'Right and John...' she paused to tease him a little more and sat down next to him. He raised an eyebrow, lifted his hand and guided it to her back, which was still only slightly covered thanks to her outfit. 

'How dare he just touch you,' he said through clenched teeth. She smiled at him and savoured his touch. 'it's all so relaxed between us all, whether it's on set or off, but slowly....' he paused to sort out his words. '...I'm getting tired of holding back. Making sure we don't stand out too much'. Cait gave him a warm smile. 'You don't seriously think John had ulterior motives, do you?' She looks at him scrutinisingly as he pressed his hand more firmly into her back. 'Of course not, but I still don't like to see others getting too close to you.' He looks at her penetratingly, pulls her closer to him and kisses her with an underlying jealousy. With his other hand, he takes her face and holds it firmly so that she can't run away. As if she would do that. Of course she wouldn't. He released the kiss slowly and looked piercingly into her eyes. 

'So many people have touched you today,' he said in a rough and discreetly dominant voice. 'It doesn't bother me...' she said quietly and the thought of seeing her own husband so jealous for once appealed to her. She watched him closely. A different side to the usually so relaxed Scotsman.

He kissed her shoulder and arm as if he wanted to mark every single spot on her body. Every now and then he bit a little harder, only to kiss over it apologetically afterwards. She grinned and hid her face in his neck, tolerating his actions. She inhaled deeply, savoured his scent and closed her eyes. 'You almost scared the poor boy,' she said with amusement. 'John was totally uptight after that. What did you actually do? beating up his tiny ass?' she laughed softly and looked up at him. 'I gave him a very warning look, one he could feel.

He approached her with a playful soft growl and kissed the tip of her nose. She giggled her typical laugh and raised an eyebrow. 'I'm tired' Cait stood up and changed her outfit provocatively in front of him, but so that he could only see her back. Standing in front of the wardrobe, she took a loose jumper from him and a short trouser, put them on and hopped onto the bed in the same room, relaxed. 'You're showing me every nook and cranny you've been touched today!' He got up from the couch and hastily and very clumsily took off his jacket, threw it on the couch and disappeared into the bathroom.

He came back just in his white bathrobe. Cait scrutinised him in detail and raised an eyebrow questioningly in the air. 'That's not exactly fair of you ma laird.. to appear here like this. Naked and only in a bathrobe,' she said.

He grinned cheekily at her words and slowly leant towards her, leaning on his hands and pressing her gently onto the bed with a kiss. It was soft and gentle, just right after such an exhausting day. 

She surrendered rather reluctantly and grinned into the kiss. 'Then you'll have to undress too...we want to keep to the bed rules Mrs Heughan' he purred lovingly and helped her undress. 

'Show me...where has everyone touched you today?' his voice sounded possessive and left no room for discussion. She loved the side of him, playful with a touch of dominance. Anything but how he showed himself in public. Here just for her alone. 

'There...' she pointed slowly at her shoulders, then wandered to her neck and back. His eyes watched her every movement closely, never leaving her.

It was so quiet that you could only hear her breathing as well as his. The air was literally charged. He leant down to her again and kissed her shoulder delicately, repeating it over and over again, careful not to miss an inch. Her breathing quickened and she gasped for air as he moved to her neck. 'Sam...' he couldn't help but grin as he kissed her neck one last time. All at once he raised his eyes to meet hers, completely befuddled by what he was doing, hoping for more. 'Turn round,' he said with a cheeky undertone and grabbed her by the arms to turn her round. She squeaked in surprise and before she knew it, she was lying on her stomach. He looked at her back as if he were a T-Rex looking at his prey. The thought of John's hands over her back made him sick to his guts.

'Here?' She flinched slightly at his first kiss, gentle and loving on her back. 'Sam!' He ignores her and carries on. A second...a third... 

'Darling! That tickles!' she giggled softly and did everything she could to pull herself together. 

'tickle huh?' He bit gently and she drew in a soft, sharp breath as she struggled. 'Stop it! Otherwise you'll leave marks!' she said, looking sideways at him. 'So be it...let everyone see that you're happy!' He bit gently again without hesitation, alternating with his kisses. Bit by bit, he worked his way up her back to her neck. 

'Sam, babe don't!' She looked at him pleadingly and yet you would have thought she was begging him to continue rather than stop. She was tired of playing hide and seek too. He looked at her free neck and began to kiss it in slow motion. Carefully and just so hard that you could clearly see that she belonged to someone. The marks were impossible to miss. When he cuddled up to her shortly afterwards, he took her in his arms. She buried her face in his neck at first, but then looked up at him reproachfully and pouted at him.

'Don't look like that my love....or do you want more?' he said quietly. Her gaze darkened playfully and he raised an eyebrow. 'I think if we're going to show who I belong to, we should do it properly...!' He suddenly looked at her questioningly. 'Wha-...' before he could say anything, she pushed him into bed by the shoulders, sat right on his lap and gave him the most diabolical look she could. 

'Sassenach...? What are you going to do?' he asked, looking frightened. 

Before she spoke, she kissed him firmly on his neck and shoulder.

'Show everyone that YOU are mine!' 

[imaginespazzi]

Part 2: If Only You'd Been Here

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

Ain't nobody hurt you like I hurt you (but ain't nobody love you like I do)

(In which a sadistic writer tortures her beloved ship a fair amount and maybe her readers too)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining, Hurt/Comfort and maybe Fluff if you squint

Words: 6.5K (someone please be proud that it is in fact shorter 🙈)

TW: Swearing, Alcohol, Injuries, Alludes to Sexual Content

A/N: Good morning my lovelies <3 Just a couple of things I changed that you should know before you read. If you follow WCBB, you know UCLA didn't win the Pac-12 tournament in 2023 but in this universe they did. You also probably know they lost in the NCAA tournament last year to SC in the Greenville region but in this universe, for plot purposes, they're gonna be in the Seattle region. I kept their seeding and who they were playing vague because it was gonna get too complicated to figure out. Also if you saw my list of part titles a while ago, no you didn't lol. As always, feel free to know what you liked, what you didn't, and anything you'd like to see in future parts. And as you're reading, let's just remember y'all love me and everything I do is for the plot. Happy reading and have a wonderful week lovelies!

December 2022

The distinctly “car” smell of her car is starting to make Paige more than a little nauseous. Going by the way Drew is pouting in the passenger seat, he’s also clearly over it. They’ve been driving in circles for what feels like hours. At first, still enamoured with being allowed to sit in the front, her little brother had gone along with her ridiculousness. Now, as they approach maybe the 12th or so lap around the neighbourhood, he seems less than thrilled. 

“Alright let me out and you keep driving,” Drew says, fiddling agitatedly with his seatbelt, “I think I’m gonna puke.”

“Well hold it in,” Paige retorts unhelpfully as they re-round the block. She keeps her eyes focused on the road, ignoring the glare her brother sends her away. He takes in a dramatic breath and leans back onto his seat. She grips the steering wheel tighter as they pass the house again, still not brave enough to pull into the driveaway of a place she’d once considered just as much a home as her own. 

Drew lets out another groan, “I shoulda just stayed home.”

“Well you didn’t-” Paige’s reply is cut off by the sound of a phone call reverberating around the car. The CallerID reads “Azzi (DON’T YOU DARE IGNORE)”, a name the younger girl had plugged in herself with a warning look the day Paige had left LA. Chewing whatever dry skin is still left on her bitten-to-death lips, Paige clicks accept on the call. 

“What number lap is this?” comes Azzi’s exasperated voice and Paige can’t help the smile that creeps onto her face. 

“Oh you know my car’s feeling the need to exercise today,” Paige hums back, suddenly feeling a lot lighter than she had just a couple of seconds ago. Sometimes, she’s not sure how she managed to go a year with this constant heavy weight pressing down on her ribs, and no Azzi to slowly ease her out from under it. 

“Azziiiiii,” Drew whines dramatically, “please come save me. I’m gonna die in this car.”

Affronted, Paige splutters, “nobody forced you to come.”

“You begged me to come,” her young brother quips back and it elicits a laugh from the girl on the other end of the line. 

“I did-”

“Paige,” Azzi cuts her off, “just come inside okay? You’re wasting gas for nothing.”

“I- it’s just-,” Paige’s hands tighten even more around the wheel, as she stops on the sidewalk, switching on her turn signal, but still not entering the driveway. She leans her head against the wheel, overwhelmed by emotions she can’t quite name. Drew places a comforting hand on her back and she sends him a reassuring smile, trying to shield her younger brother from the havoc in her brain. 

“Hey,” Azzi’s voice floats through the fog, “it’s just me okay? Me and you and us. It’ll be okay. I promise.”

It’s like a child being soothed with their favourite binkie, that’s what Azzi’s promise feels like to Paige. She finally turns into the driveaway, and both Drew and Azzi cheer in tandem. The knot in her chest loosens just a little bit at that because the large crowds that scream for her make her feel adored, but this, her own personal cheer squad for her littlest of achievements, well it makes her feel loved. 

“Freedom,” Drew yells as he practically flings himself out of Paige’s barely parked car. She rolls her eyes fondly at her mini me as he dramatically pretends to kiss the ground. It’s a small distraction from the memories that are swirling like a tornado in her mind. Minnesota is home, it’ll always be home but this place, this had been her safe haven, something she could hold onto at a time where everything else was slipping out of her hands. And then, like a fool, she’d let go of it. 

The door opens even before they’ve made it halfway to the door and Azzi’s brothers run out into the front yard. Jon pretends to take pictures and José practically falls to his knees as they swarm around the blonde. 

“Paige, Paige, can we get a picture or an autograph please,” they yell teasingly, “please Miss Bueckers we’re your biggest fans.”

“Move over boys,” Tim Fudd’s booming voice hollers, as he swats his children away, “her biggest fan is actually me eh Paige?”

The girl in question nods solemnly, her smile stretching the full length of her face, and both Jon and José let out a groan as their father beams at Paige. And then Katie’s there, not a hint of anything but pure happiness on her face as she wraps the younger girl into a hug. Paige melts into the embrace, trying her hardest not to burst into tears. Because all she can think about is the hundreds of calls and texts from Azzi that she’d left unanswered, all she can think of is Azzi's devastated face as she’d told Paige about just how hard she’d tried and that wretched ache of i don’t deserve this i broke your daughters heart wraps itself around Paige’s  heart. 

Over Katie’s shoulder, Paige watches as Azzi finally walks out into the law, her cheeks immediately turning red from the cold. The younger girl winks at Paige with a radiant smile, before giving all her attention to Drew who almost trips as he excitedly launches himself into Azzi, tiny hands wrapping around her waist. Paige watches, still buried in the warmth of Katie’s arms, as Drew animatedly tells Azzi all the stories he possibly can and Azzi nods along emphatically as if she’s being told the most important facts of her life. And Paige takes a snapshot of it to add to her ever growing collection of moments i just knew. 

***

January 2023

“Call her.”

Paige doesn’t bother replying, burying her face further into her tear-soaked pillow. Maybe if she ignores her teammate, Caroline will get the message and go away. The earth-shattering pain that she’d subdued for the last couple of months had finally reared its ugly head. And that too at the worst time possible, when her team needed to be a source of strength and with cameras catching the teardrops falling as she mourned the loss of not being able to play in the epic UConn-Tennessee rivalry. She’d done so well at holding it in, breaking apart only a couple of times, sometimes alone and sometimes with Azzi on the other end of the line. Until tonight, when the bright lights and roaring crowd had reignited the itch to just fucking play ball. 

“Paige,” Caroline says again, “stop being stubborn and call her.”

“She has a game tomorrow, she doesn’t need my dramatic ass worrying her right now,” Paige replies, getting into a sitting position when she realises the other girl isn’t about to just let this go. 

“You’re eventually going to call her. The two of you haven’t gone one day without talking to each other since this summer,” Caroline gives her a look, a hint of a smirk play on her face when it tints Paige’s cheeks pink, “seriously, just call her.”

It’s not that Paige doesn’t want to. She’d scrolled through her contacts and stopped at Azzi’s one too many time’s tonight. And each time, just as her fingers had hovered over the green call button, she’d felt guilt claw at her neck. Since she’d shown up in LA, Azzi had shown up for Paige every step of the way, checking in regularly, listening to Paige vent her anger at the world and whispering words of comfort that only sounded true when they came from Azzi’s mouth. Sometimes, if she tries really hard, Paige can feel the ghost of Azzi’s arms wrapping themselves around her shoulders, just as they had that one night in LA when Azzi had held her, so delicately as if she was made of porcelain, through the worst of her breakdowns. 

“She needs to focus on her game,” Paige says after a moment. 

Caroline sighs, mind wandering to the countless texts on her phone from Azzi begging her to take care of Paige and to let her know when the blonde wasn’t doing okay, “I know but she’d want you to call her if she knew. You need her.”

“And where was I when she needed me?” it’s the word need that triggers it, the quick snap because it’s all Paige has been able to think about lately. 

Without basketball, she’d had far too much time on her hands and she’d ended up going down a spiral of watching Azzi’s games from her freshman year, something she’d religiously avoided doing when they had happened live. At first, it had just been this immense feeling of pride, seeing her best friend be the college basketball phenomenon Paige had always known she would be. She’d shoved away the envy of it was supposed to be us that immersed her seeing the way the Bruins celebrated their new star player, and just let herself be happy in her best friend’s happiness. 

And then something changed around at the beginning of January 2022. It had only lasted a couple of games, but Azzi had hit a wall. Threes were short, cuts were made at the wrong time and she kept on getting lost on defence in a way that was very unlike her. And all Paige could focus on, eyes glued to the screen, was how completely and utterly exhausted Azzi looked during that stretch, despite the fact that she’d just come back from winter break. The smile had vanished off her face, replaced by stress lines Paige wished she could go back in time and erase. 

It wasn’t until she’d binged through all the games, cheering silently as Azzi slowly returned to form, that the realisation had hit Paige. She’d been slapped with the memory of a store decorated brightly for Christmas and a familiar voice calling her name, as she’d purposely walked the other way, pretending she hadn’t heard and the more than deserved i’m done trying text that had followed right after. For a year, perhaps longer, Paige had convinced herself that she was the only one who had lost something, she was the only one who had a right to hurt, to break. And still, she thinks she’d take all of that pain again a thousand times, if it means she could erase the fact that in all of her self-pity, she’d broken Azzi too.

“Where was I when she needed me?” she repeats again to Caroline, as the brunette stares at her in confusion, “the answer to that Carol, is that I was anywhere but with her.”

Caroline’s eyes soften in realisation as she takes a cautious step towards Paige, “oh P don’t do this to yourself.”

“I want to call her,” Paige confesses in a whisper, tears brimming in her eyes, “it’s the only thing I’ve wanted to do all day and maybe- maybe I should have but I’m just- I’ve been so unfair to her.”

“You were hurt Paige.”

“I know- I know that. But so was she. You don’t- god Carol- you don’t even know the things I said to her before she left for LA. And she’s still here,” the first tears fall from her blue eyes, and then the next and the next until there’s a steady waterfall streaming down her face, “you know I almost didn’t let her in when she first came over this summer?”

Caroline doesn’t say anything, choosing instead to come sit next to Paige and wrap her arms around the point guard. 

“I didn’t answer her calls or her texts for a year and still, still she’s picked up every call, replied to every text I’ve sent her since summer. I know- I know I need her and she’s going to be there of course she is. But when she needed me, where was I?” Paige drops her face into her hands, “I just- I don’t deserve her.”

There’s a moment of silence as Caroline rubs Paige’s back and lets the older girl wallow in her guilt. And then she reaches for Paige’s phone on the nightstand, ignoring the little grunt of protest. When the screen lights up, there’s already a notification of new messages from Azzi and Caroline can’t help but smile. 

“I think,” she begins softly, “Azzi’s a smart girl so maybe give that tiny little brain of yours a little bit of rest and let her decide who deserves her,” she hands Paige her phone “let her be there for you. I think maybe she needs that too.”

Caroline gives Paige’s shoulders a little squeeze before heading out the doors, giving the older girl a moment of privacy. Paige sighs, getting herself comfortable against her pillows, and rubbing away her tears, before finally giving in and pressing the facetime call button. 

“Do you want a distraction or do you want to talk about it?” Azzi says as soon as she picks up and Paige can see the concern etched all over her face.

“Or maybe I’m perfectly fine?”

“Ah we’re playing the pretend game tonight. Should have cleared your throat for a second longer maybe Miss Perfectly Fine, your eyes are red as fuck and you sound like a dying cat.” 

“Wow, that was rude. Maybe I’m sick?” 

“With what? The “lies to her best friend” flu?”

“That UCLA education has you making up illnesses now? Damn Az, you’re supposed to get smarter in college.”

“You’re so funny, like so funny,” Azzi huffs sarcastically before they both dissolve into giggles. It’s always just been so easy with them. And Paige’s isn’t a poet, but if she was, she’d write sonnets about the sound of Azzi’s laughter, and the way it makes the corner of her eyes crinkle. 

“I watched the game,” Azzi says after a second, “and I saw you.”

Paige smirks, “so you didn’t actually watch the game, just stared at my gorgeous face the whole time?”

“There’s that comedian streak of yours again.”

“Hey you’re the one who said you were watching me instead of the game. But who could blame you really?”

“I didn’t-” Azzi rolls her eyes, as Paige’s cocky smirk deepens, “stop it.”

“You can admit I’m a pretty girl Az,” she teases, delighted when it makes the younger girl blush. 

“Fuck off, you have enough people telling you you’re a pretty girl.”

“Yeah but it means more coming from you,” she says quietly, biting her lip. It’s not the kind of thing you’re supposed to say to your best friend, at least not in the soft, wanting way that Paige says it. Except they both know that the lines in their friendship are far more blurred than they should be, even if they've both done a pretty fantastic job at ignoring that kiss. Paige had learned over Christmas that Azzi was exceptionally good at the pretending part, moving away the moment Paige’s hands lingered a little longer than they should, changing topics if they even got anywhere near addressing the something between them. It shouldn’t have hurt but it did and Paige doesn’t understand how she can so desperately miss something that she never even had in the first place. 

“So distraction then?” Azzi says after a second, changing the subject back to her initial question. 

Paige closes her eyes, taking in a deep breath, “it was just- it was a lot tonight. I didn’t realise I was being that obvious.”

“You weren’t. I just know you a little too well.”

“These are my favourite types of games, you know. The rivalry, the crowd booing my name and getting the chance to quiet them, that’s- that’s the type of game players live for and I just- I miss it Azzi. I miss shooting, I miss defending, I miss just standing on the fucking court sometimes. I miss playing basketball. So. Fucking. Much,” a fresh set of tears leak out of Paige's eyes, as her free hand fists at her bedsheets. 

There’s silence as Paige’s words linger in the air. In a way it’s freeing to be able to say it out loud, to just let herself feel how she feels instead of fighting them. 

“You’re gonna miss it every day until you play again,” Azzi says quietly, her own voice thick with emotions, “and it’s not really gonna get easier until you get it back. But when you finally do, just- just imagine it okay, your first game back. The feeling of the crowd. Dribbling up the court. Making that first shot as everybody loses their minds. Finally just playing the game you love. That’s when that feeling of loss will finally go away.”

Using Azzi’s steady breathing as an anchor to still her erratic heartbeat, Paige lets herself get lost in the picture the younger girl has just painted for her. She lets her mind run to the future that lies ahead of her and if she focuses hard enough she can almost hear the Gampel crowds roaring as she finally returns to the court. 

“It’s kinda really fucking annoying how you always know what to say,” no it isn’t, it’s the only thing that’s keeping Paige going these days. 

“Surviving an ACL injury will do that to a girl,” Azzi says with a pained smile. 

That’s not it Paige thinks, it’s not experience, it’s you and I really wish you were here. But she can’t say that, so she changes the subject instead. 

“Tell me about your game tomorrow.”

They both settle back into their pillows, getting into more comfortable positions. Azzi tells Paige all about her upcoming game and then moves onto another topic, then another and another and another. They’ll wake up tomorrow morning to phones that died and no memory of when they’d fallen asleep. And then they’ll remember who was on the other end of the line, and if that makes them smile a little too hard, well that’s just another thing they’ll pretend didn’t happen. 

***

March 2023

It’s only natural that when Paige finally feels like she can learn to live with just having a little bit of Azzi, that the world would show her just how wrong she could be. She’s been in a much better headspace these days, her knee finally starting to feel like itself again, bit by bit. The guilt of not being able to help her team is still settled into the pits of her stomach but even with that, she’s reached a sort of acceptance. And while she’s still struggling to fight the part of her heart that wants so much more, she’s learning to be content with just having her best friend back.

It’s that little bit of time in between conference tournaments and the NCAA tournament when it feels like the calm before the storm and it’s the first weekend since before the season that the UConn team finally gets to go out and let loose for a bit. They’re riding the height of winning another Big East title and even if it’s a little bittersweet that they did it without her, Paige is beyond the moon happy for her team. 

She turns up the music in her room and changes the lights for the sake of a little ambience, before sitting down at her desk, to call Azzi and do what little of her makeup she knows how to do. Normally she’d get one of the other girls or Kayla to do it, but she’d rather sacrifice a flawless makeup look then miss out on having Azzi tease her about how she still didn’t quite know how to do her eyeliner properly yet. 

The fact that it takes Azzi longer than the third ring to pick up should be Paige’s first warning sign but instead she’s sucking in a deep breath at the sight of her best friend who looks breathtakingly beautiful tonight. Paige’s heart stutters as she takes in Azzi’s face, the light layer of red lipstick (that Paige wants to kiss off), the blush-tinged cheeks (that Paige wants to caress delicately) and the perfectly done mascara on her eyelashes (that Paige wants to feel flutter against her own skin). 

She lets out a low appreciative whistle, “celebrating that Pac-12 championship in style huh?”

“Something like that,” Azzi bites her lip and really that should have been warning sign number two, “was there- was there something you needed?’

“I can’t just call you?” Paige asks, noticing the tension on Azzi’s face, “are you busy?”

“No it’s not-”

“She is actually,” a different voice cuts in aggressively and Azzi immediately gives whoever it is an exasperated look. Paige doesn’t know who it is, but she guesses it’s one of the UCLA players. It’s no secret they aren’t huge fans of her. They’d made that much clear the few times they’d met Paige during September, always regarding her with a wary eyes. It wasn’t their fault really, Paige understood their protectiveness, in fact she appreciated it more than they would ever understand. 

“Chill Angela.” 

“Are you not busy then?” the other voice who Paige assumes is Angela Dugalic says, clearly a little annoyed. And then Azzi’s phone is being shifted away from her and instead it’s Angela’s face that covers Paige’s screen. 

“Oh,” the blonde manages to get out, taken aback by the sudden change, “hi Angela.”

“Hi Paige,” the other girl says, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. 

“Angela,” there’s a clear warning in Azzi’s voice and Paige already knows, even before the words are let out into the open, that whatever Dugalic is about to say is going to tear her apart. 

“Azzi has a date tonight,” Angela pronounces the last words with a gleeful lilt. 

The world spins and Paige’s head spins with it, as she grips onto her desk for some semblance of stability. She can hear Azzi spluttering in the background as she tries to get her phone back but it’s of no use as the UCLA forward powers on. 

“With a really pretty girl,” Angela smirks at the camera, clearly trying to prove something, “Zoe’s really wonderful. You’d like her, Paige.”

Zoe. Recognition registers in Paige’s brain. She remembers seeing the name flashing on Azzi’s phone a couple of times, accompanied by a photo she never quite caught a glimpse of. But as she tended to do with most phone calls that came during her time with Paige, Azzi had simply just declined the call and texted whoever that she’d call her back later. And so Paige hadn’t really bothered caring about Zoe, chalking her up to being some random friend Azzi had made. But fuck, maybe she should have cared. 

“And Azzi really likes her I think. They’ve been tiptoeing around it for ages you know? But we all knew it was only a matter of time.”

A strangled noise escapes Paige’s throat and she tries her best to disguise it as anything but the cry of despair it is. It feels like there’s a thousand knives digging into her skin, pressing harder and harder until she has no blood left to bleed. 

“They’re gonna make the cu-”

“Give me my phone back Angela,” Azzi’s voice cuts in harshly and Paige hurriedly rushes to contort her features into a smile right before the camera’s back to facing her best friend. 

“So you’re all dressed up for a date then?” Paige manages to get out and the word date sounds like bile on her tongue. 

“Doesn’t she look lovely?” comes Angela’s voice again; the girl seemingly on a mission to break Paige as much as possible, “give her a proper look Az.”

“Angela,” Azzi hisses through gritted teeth. 

“N-no show me the fit,” Paige counters, because that’s what a best friend’s supposed to say right? Show me how fucking perfect you look for a girl that’s not me

Azzi hesitates, swallowing nervously, before she takes a couple of steps back so the camera captures all of her. And Paige wishes she’d never asked to be shown in the first place, hell she wishes she’d never bothered to call tonight. Because she thinks the image of Azzi’s casual light blue jeans and simple green off-the shoulder top will be etched in her mind forever, captioned with the words not for you. 

“You look lovely Azzi,” she whispers quietly, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Zoe won’t be able to keep her fucking hands off of you,” Angela supplies and this time the glare Azzi shoots her is murderous. 

“I think I hear Emily calling your name Angela.”

“I don’t-”

“Yes,” Azzi says pointedly, “yes you do.”

Angela rolls her eyes but doesn’t protest this time. She turns to the phone with a devilish grin, clearly feeling accomplished in being a menace, “nice talking to you Paige.”

She waltzes out, leaving Paige, Azzi and a silence that feels like it could drown them. 

“You could have told me,” the blond says after a second, averting her eyes from the screen, “aren’t dates the kind of thing best friends are supposed to tell each other?”

“Paige-”

“It’s good though- you-uh- you deserve a night out.”

“P-”

“Listen, I uh- I’m going out too so- I- umm- I better get going but-,” Paige takes in a deep breath, “have a- have wonderful time on your date Az.”

She hangs up before Azzi can reply, the concern in the younger girl's eyes becoming too much to bear. For a moment, she stares straight ahead at the wall, just processing. And then she lets herself fall apart. 

***

It’s 1 a.m., Paige is drunk and miserable and so fucking tired; it’s an extremely dangerous combination. Aaliyah and Amari had practically had to carry her to her dorm because she’d been stumbling far too much and everyone was worried she’d eventually fall flat on her face. Personally, Paige thought they just didn’t have enough faith in her. She wasn’t even that drunk, she couldn’t be. After all she could still feel that stupid Azzi-sized scar on heart and wasn’t the whole point of being drunk supposed to be not being able to feel? But she has to be drunk because sober her would know better than to do what she does next, would know better than to call Azzi when she has no control over herself. 

“Paige? Is everything okay? Are you okay,” Azzi’s voice is filled with concern when she answers.

“Azziiiii,” Paige slurs, “areyoustillwithyourdate?”

“What?”

“Are. you. still. with. your. date?” Paige pronounces each word slowly. 

“I- yeah. She’s in a different room. Paige, are you okay?” 

“Interesting,” the blonde remarks quietly, “you never picked up her calls when you were with me. And we weren’t even dating.”

She hears Azzi’s breath hitch on the other end, can almost picture her doing that nervous swallow of hers, “ I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“You didn’t care if she was okay then? Those times she called you?”

“That’s not- she didn’t call me at 1 a.m.” the younger girl justifies hollowly. 

“Bullshit,” Paige scoffs, “1 a.m. isn’t even that fucking late. Why is it so hard for you to admit you care about me waaaayyyyy more than you care about Zara or whatever?”

“Zoe. You’re drunk Paige, go to bed,” and Paige really should listen to the edge in Azzi’s voice.

“Where did y’all go?” she asks lightly, changing the subject, “c’mon Az, best friends share their date stories right?”

“Baltaire,” Azzi relents, choosing to let this battle go. 

“Oooh that restaurant we passed that one time wow,” Paige coos, “too fucking bad you hate fine dining huh? But she wouldn’t know that now would she? Because she doesn’t fucking know you.”

“Paige please,” Azzi breathes out quietly in a pained voice.

“But you know who does know you? Me. And I would have never taken you to some boring old fancy ass piece of shit restaurant like that.”

“Don’t-”

“I would have taken you on a picnic. Do you remember that park you loved, the one by my air bnb? There, that’s where I would have taken you. And I’d have gotten you supermarket sushi even though I fucking hate that shit but I know, I know, you like it. And flowers. Did she get you flowers? Because I- I would have. Roses and peonies and lilies, a whole fucking bouquet.”

And Paige is crying again, for the second time tonight, one hand gripping at her phone as the other one tries to wipe away the frantically falling teardrops. 

“And we’d stay at that park til the sun goes out and I’d take a polaroid of you in the sunset and I’d keep it forever. I swear Azzi, I’d keep it forever and I’d put it on my wall.”

“Paige,” Azzi whispers, as if it’s the only word she knows, as if it’s the only word that matters. 

“I’d bring my laptop so that when it finally gets dark, we can watch a movie. You choose Az, whatever you want. And I’d get distracted and start playing with your hair or something and you’ll pretend it’s annoying you but you’d be smiling. Fuck I love your smile.”

“You can’t- you can’t just say these things Paige.”

“Why not? It’s the truth right- why can’t I say the truth?,” Paige says petulantly, “but hush okay I’m not- I’m not finished yet. And then, then we’d just lie under the stars and it'd just be you, me and the sky. Perfect.” 

Azzi lets out a broken sob and Paige hates it, she hates it but she keeps on talking. 

“And then I’d take you home and I’d kiss you,” she whispers the last bit like a confession, “everywhere. Fuck, I’d make it so good for you Az. So good. Everything you wanted, everything you needed, I’d give you all of it. I’d make you come apart on my fingers and then my tongue-”

“Shut up,” Azzi’s voice is suddenly cold and frosty and it feels like all the heat has been sucked out of Paige’s room as well, “shut up, shut up, shut up.”

“Azzi-”

“No,” Azzi all but yells, “you don’t get to say all of that to me.”

“Then who does? Her? Zia or whatever? Who the fuck even is she?” Paige spits out venomously.

“Zoe. Her name is Zoe and you wanna know she is Paige?” 

She should say no. She should apologise for interrupting Azzi’s date and hang up the phone, but no, Paige doesn’t do any of that, “enlighten me why don’t you.”

“She’s the girl who was there,” Azzi says, her voice cracking, “she’s the girl who held me last year when I was going through the worst time of my life. She was there when I couldn’t make a fucking shot and I thought maybe I’d never be good enough. She was there when I let the pressure and the media and all of it get to my head. She was there when I was crying my eyes out over losing the one person I was sure would always stay. She- she’s who you were supposed to be because she was there, and you weren’t.”

Paige isn’t sure if it’s the bitterness behind Azzi’s words or the brokenness of her sobs that is the reason for the ache in her own chest. All she knows is that she still remembers tearing her ACL, and she doesn’t think it hurt as much as this. 

“It was supposed to be you,” Azzi sniffles, “I wanted it to be you. Because I’d have let you- fuck- Paige- I’d have let you take me on a picninc and if you brought me sushi I’d have brought you your favorite mac and cheese. I- I know you don’t really care about flowers so I’d get you chocolate, the rum-filled ones that you love. And that sunset polaroid would have been a selfie of us, where you’re kissing my cheek and I’d have it framed. I’d pick out a movie but first- first you could watch whatever basketball game was on and you’d get exasperated when I don’t know the team because I’m literally a basketball player,” she lets out a wet laugh, “but I know you secretly like explaining the NBA to me. And then- then I’d have let you take me home and I’d let you take everything. Whatever you wanted, it’d be yours.”

The vivid image of a date that never happened fills every inch of Paige’s brain. She feels like she’s in a bad dream, trying so hard to reach for a happiness that keeps on evading her grasp. 

“But you weren’t there then Paige, and you aren’t here now.” 

“Azzi-” Paige chokes out. 

“Go to bed Paige,” the younger girl says, her voice shaky but adamant, ‘Get some sleep. Maybe you’re drunk enough that you won’t remember this when I call you tomorrow.”

“Right. So we’re gonna pretend this never happened. Again. We’ll just keep on pretending forever I guess,” Paige retorts bitterly. 

“Yes, we will. Because if I stop pretending, I don’t think I’ll be able to survive.”

***

The buzzer rings around Climate Pledge Arena as the UCLA women’s basketball team loses in the Elite 8 on a last second buzzer beater. Azzi’s face contorts into one of sheer disappointment, and in the stands, Paige feels her own heart drop. She’s not one to root for a team outside of her own and god knows what would happen if Nika found out that she’d been screaming her head off each time the Bruins, or at least one specific Bruin, scored, but for Azzi, well, there’s not many of her own rules that Paige follows when it comes to her best friend. 

It had taken a fair amount of convincing on Paige’s part to even be able to come to this game. Everyone had wanted to leave immediately after the Sweet 16 loss but Paige had insisted they needed to stay in Seattle, do something to get the team’s mind off of the terrible end to their season. And that wasn’t a complete lie because even if she hadn’t been able to help when they needed it on the court, she could try and help boost morale. But she knew her teammates weren’t fooled. They knew the schedule just as well as she did and they knew exactly what or better yet, who she wanted to stay for. 

On the court, Paige can tell Azzi’s fighting back tears. The brunette had given it her all, scoring an efficient 34 points and really the game could have gone any way. That last minute heave from the opposing team really probably shouldn’t have gone in, but at the end of the day the NCAA tournament was a lot about skill but also a little about luck. But Paige knows, Azzi isn’t thinking about any of that, too busy finding a way to blame herself even though she’d had a near perfect night. They were just too similar sometimes. 

Azzi’s eyes flicker through the stands, clearly looking for a familiar face. Paige resists the urge to run on to the court and pull the younger girl into her arms and soothe away the defeated look in her eyes, if only for the fact that Azzi doesn’t actually even know she’d figured out a way to stay back for this game. Despite being in the same city, they hadn’t been able to spend nearly as much time together and while Paige’s teammates had tried to be of some help, Azzi’s teammates had seemed determined to pull her away as much as possible. All of that on top of the fact that they’re still playing that stupid game of pretend had left Paige wanting for just one moment alone for the two of them. 

As soon as the UCLA team starts heading back to their locker room, and the crowd starts leaving, Paige scurries towards where she knows Azzi will be. Their assigned locker room isn’t that far from where UConn’s had been and Paige gets there in almost record time, her mind firmly planted on being there for Azzi. She’d missed so many opportunities, but this time, this time she’d be there. 

Azzi’s leaning against the wall, her eyes closed and Paige has to take in a breath at the sight of her. Sweat sheens against her tan skin and her gameday braids are falling apart just a little but still, she’s perfect. Before Paige can take a step towards her, there’s another girl, all dark hair and long legs, brushing past her, rushing to get to Azzi’s side. It’s like the world has stopped and yet is spinning too fast all at the same time, as Paige watches this girl, Zoe, pull Azzi, Paige’s Azzi, into her arms. 

After the night of the date (and everything else they’re ignoring), Paige hadn’t bothered to bring it up and Azzi had never said anything about it again. Naively, the blonde had thought that maybe that meant nothing much had transpired after the date, silently patting herself on the back for possibly even having had a hand in that. Except, the way Zoe holds Azzi isn’t fucking platonic and the way Azzi relaxes in Zoe’s arms, isn’t fucking friendly. 

“I”ve got you Az,” Zoe whispers into Azzi’s hair and Paige wants to die. She should look away, she should walk away but her feet seem to be glued to the ground. And she remembers the way Azzi’s eyes were searching the crowd and oh- she’d been looking for- Paige can’t even let herself complete the thought because she’s sure she’ll burst into flames the second she does. 

“I’m really glad you’re here,” Azzi says quietly to Zoe. To Zoe, and not Paige. If she could feel anything beyond the dagger twisting in her heart, maybe Paige would hear the way there’s still a tinge of disappointment in Azzi’s voice, as if she’s wishing it was someone else. 

It takes Zoe pressing a kiss into Azzi’s forehead, eliciting a sigh from the brunette for Paige to finally tear her eyes away. Her feet finally move and then she’s running faster than she has in a long time, ignoring the way it causes her muscle to ache. She can’t tell if her rapid blinking is to usher away the tears or to try and prevent the memory of Azzi with some other girl from welding itself into her eyelids. It blurs her vision and in the speed of things, she can barely tell where she’s going. Paige runs chest-first into a wall, bruising her elbow. Her phone slips out of her hands, falling to the ground with a loud thud, the screen protector cracking into pieces. 

And when Paige looks at the mess of her phone on the floor, she thinks it couldn’t possibly have cracked harder than this silly little stupid heart of hers.

[blingblong55]

It would've been sweet- Alejandro Vargas

In which you and him were in a relationship and he leaves you for his ex, Valeria Garza.

F!Reader, angst, cheating

A/N: voted 2/3 to be next...so here ya go :)

7 years and 3 months, thats how long it this love lasted. Three years ago, Alejandro had found out his ex, Valeria Garza was the one who was running the Las Almas cartel, she was El Sin Nombre. And every night, he'd come home, cursing her, telling you how much he hated that woman. And then he'd tell you how much he loved you. How happy he was you weren't like her.

You met him 9 years ago, told him you weren't ready for a relationship. And he waited, sat with you patiently as the day where he could have you would soon arrive. At nights, he'd go to your place, sneaking past your guard dog like he was some teenager in love. Throw rocks at your window and then stand there, snacks in hand, "let me in, please." the door would later unlock. The neighbours complained about him. He would serenade you once a month, brought Rudy along to hold a speaker whilst he sang along to the lyrics. You would laugh a little as you watched him over do his words.

The night you let him take you on a date was pure bliss. He knew you finally caved in, rest assure he would let this date last for years to come. He always asked you out on dates, but you always said no. "Porfavor, just once." You looked at him, "...fine," a small smile on you. Truth be told, you wanted him all along, but wanted to see how far he took it and it was proved he was willing to stay even if you didn't want him around. As that first date came to and end, it was clear he wanted to ask for another.

You leaned in and kissed his cheek as he walked you to your doorstep, "Good night, ale, thank you for tonight." you walked inside, the bouquet of flowers in hand, Pink tulips. "Good night, chula." he says and watches you close the door. He chuckles to himself, what a night that was. As he made way back to his car, he called Rudy, "She kissed my cheek! Thank you for the advice, hermano." A victorious night that was.

"Can I be your boyfriend? Can I have that privilege?" A smiled creeped up on you, your arms around him, "yes!.." It was the question you so long waited for since that first date.

7 years and 2 months later from that first month as an actual couple and now you stand there, empty handed as he walks with Valeria in hand.

1 year ago, that is when the beginning of his love affair and the beginning of the downfall of you two started. He saw Valeria, she was alone, was only there to confront her and arrest her. But then she called him by the old nickname. From then on, he would have more 'missions' to go on. Rudy didn't even known of such affair, which only made things more dangerous and fun for them both.

"Hey, I just wanted to let you know I left dinner in the oven, just in case you come home late. Love you!" you left a voicemail just like every single night when he was gone. And like always he didn't respond. "I know you are probably busy, so I just wanted to wish you the best of luck! Be safe out there, love you!"

The thought of him cheating never came across your mind, you felt so secure in the relationship and you knew he wanted you from the very beginning, the way he kissed you over and over when he was home. It was as if he hadn't just left her bed and arms.

The day you walked in on him and her in your shared bedroom, all those clues hit you harder. "Ale?" your voice hinting at the pain this view brought, "r/n, ...mi amor..." his eyes widened. You were supposed to be on a trip with your friends, not to come back for another day. You walked out, ran to your car and drove away, the ring he was supposed to give you burning in the pocket of his trousers that were laid on the ground.

"Now that she is out of the picture," Valeria kissed his shoulder but he moved away. "It's best if you leave." His past actions now bringing in the regret he would sure live with for the rest of his days. The rest of the night you drove, only pulled over to let the pain set in. Alejandro didn't know where you were, sent los vaqueros to look for you, but you were nowhere to be seen. This only made him worry more.

After Valeria left what was once a home, he sat on the bed. Phone on hand as he listened to the voicemails you left while he indulged in his sins. "Hi! Just wanted you to know I miss you and that I hope you are safe wherever you are!" You were so oblivious to the thought of him cheating which only pained him more. He cried when he heard your voice, listened to all your voicemails.

"Heard it'll rain today, if need be I can drop off your uniform for this weather," why were you always so attentive to him? It's funny, he fell for you first but you fell harder, always blushing at the sight of him, like a little girl. All you did for him, small portions of your love for him and how did he pay you back? Cheating, breaking your heart, his promises, ruining the one thing in this world that he cared for the most, the only good thing left for him as a soldier.

One thing is for sure, he wouldn't have you. No more I love you's, cuddles during rainy season, out of nowhere kisses, those puppy eyes you made, how you mumbled in your sleep and especially no more you.

You know the greatest loves of all time are over now.

A/N: I dreamed this happened to me, I woke up crying...(i'm heavyly delulu)

[rvblos]

stars / esteban kukuriczka

summary: esteban has been interested in you for some time, he finally finds the perfect opportunity to make the first step. tw: none, just pure fluff. words count: 2.4k

"and, cut!" said bayona. with that, the shooting for "la sociedad de la nieve" were officially over. the movie we had been working on for the past 5 months had just come to an end, and with it all the afternoons spent with the boys rehearsing the scenes, laughing and reading the book. it was a strange feeling and as bayona said this, before cheering, everyone looked at him in silence, realizing that with that word a piece of their lives was going away. but soon after that matias, fran and agustin ran towards jota who was already laughing and took him in their arms, throwing him in the air and catching him, while all the other cast members had gathered around them, singing and laughing. i was leaning against the nearest wall, watching them smiling, when someone next to me said "that was great, huh?" i turned suddenly, surprised, and saw that at my side was esteban, the calmest of them, and perhaps the only one with whom i hadn't become so close. i looked up to meet his gaze and with a nostalgic smile i said "that was amazing" as i stroked my arm. the boys were now carrying jota on their shoulders all around the room. i looked in their direction and laughed at the sight. we stayed like that for some time, glancing awkwardly at each other every once in a while but then always looking towards the boys.

"hey" said esteban suddenly, bringing me back to reality "did agustin told you that there's a party tonight?" "uhm, no?" i turned to face him and looked at him curiously, looking for explanations. agustin was my best friend and always told me everything, we never went to a party without each other. maybe he had forgotten to tell me, because of the filming he had always had a lot to do. i waited a while before i got an aswer from esteban. "yeah, we organized something small at mine to celebrate, since the filming's over." he said while stroking the back of his neck nervously. i looked at him waiting for him to go on, and then he spoke again. "do you want to come?" a little smile formed on his lips as he said this. "yeah, sure i'll be there." i said with a big smile and his eyes began to shimmer as i spoke. "i'll see you later then" i told him smiling as i started walking towards the exit. we didn't even realize that everyone had left, leaving us alone in that big room. i waved to him one last time, just as i walked out the door, before closing it behind me. as i got out i reached agustin, who was leaning on his car chatting with matias. “you didn’t tell me there was a party tonight?” i scolded him, hitting him on his shoulder. we were inseparable since we were kids and we always told each other everything. matias started to laugh as agustin pretended to have hurt himself. “sorry, i completely forgot about it.” he said “who told you anyway?” he asked with an interrogative tone. “esteban just told me.” i answered looking at my shoes, while my cheeks got red. "uuuuh" said matias laughing with agustin. "finally." he replied, rolling his eyes. I decided to ignore what had just happened, i was tired of his childish ways. "okay, so i'll see you tonight?" i asked them both, while desperately searching for my car keys in my pockets. "see you tonight." they both responded in chorus, smiling mischievously.

i rang the bell and bit my nails while i waited. i had never been to esteban's house. we have never spoken much to each other despite having practically spent 5 months together. i've always admired him from afar and i've noticed that he doesn't talk much, he keeps to himself, but he has developed wonderful relationships with all the cast members. and, during the endless evenings in which they played their parts over and over again, i found myself unconsciously looking at him, his perfect nose, his mouth and his eyes that lit up every time he got into character.

after a while enzo opened the door "y/n! thank god you're here." i took off my jacket while getting inside "why do you say that? has agustin already started drinking?" i asked him laughing. "unfortunately yes" he replied, ironically rubbing his hand on his face, as if to say 'I can't stand being around him anymore' in fact as soon as i turned i saw agustin who was laughing with fran. seeing this, a small laugh escaped my lips.

i placed my jacket on a chair and approached them, taking a drink from the table. fran was telling agustin about some things that happened behind the scenes and he was laughing out loud. as soon as they saw me they immediately became serious, greeting me warmly. "hi y/n! how are you?" fran asked me, hugging me and smiling at me. "everything's fine. happy filming is over!" i said happily and putting my arm around agustin's shoulders in a friendly way. "have you already started drinking? it's only 10." i whispered in his ear. "oh, stop it!" he said taking my drink from my hand and drinking it. "hey!" i said trying to reach for it but agustin had already drunk it all. "i can't be around you when you act like this. you're insufferable, you know that?" i asked him angrily. he looked at me with a lost gaze and i understood he was already gone. i sighed. that was going to be a long night.

"and then he slipped on the ice and fell on his face!" matias bursted out laughing as blas spoke. they were telling me about that time they were filming on the mountains one of the most important scenes and agustin well, fell in the middle of filming. we were all laughing except for him. "do you want me to tell her about that time you forgot your line, your most important line, in the middle of the scene?" he threatened him. "hey" enzo put a hand on his chest "that happened to everybody, like that time when you-" "okay guys, that's enough" blas interjected, to separate the two of them. i was still laughing while my gaze went all around the room. i noticed that someone from our group was missing. esteban.

he was sitting on the sofa, looking at us, at me. i realized that from the moment i arrived, from the moment i entered his house, i hadn't even greeted him. silently, while the others were still arguing, i walked away to join esteban. sitting on the sofa with a glass in his hand, his eyes were fixed on mine until i sat down next to him. i smiled sweetly at him "forgive me if i didn't say hello before, but there was a little problem with agustin." my gaze went from his face to the scene that was unfolding in front of us: agustin was taking everyone's glasses to drink them. esteban laughed softly and his eyes closed in the sweetest way, his freckles shining in the darkness of the room.

"there's no problem, of course." he turned to me, smiling. we looked at each other for a few moments, without saying anything. i could no longer hear the screams and laughter of the boys, but only the beating of my heart thundering in my ears.

“y/n?” "sorry what?" i must have been dazed because i woke up hearing esteban's voice. “i just asked you if you wanted to come out on the balcony with me to smoke a cigarette” he repeated to me in the sweetest tone I had ever heard. esteban was the kindest and most helpful person i knew, he was always considerate towards everyone and it was difficult not to love him. and, oh god, he was handsome: everything about him was perfect: his face, his hands, his arms.

the balcony wasn't particularly spacious, it was just enough for two people. when he closed the glass door behind us all the noises and music coming from the room were muffled. i smiled at that thought, it was as if the whole world went silent, and we were in our little bubble. but then i realized that it was cold, very cold. my dress certainly wasn't made to keep me warm so i found myself shaking like a leaf. i leaned on the balcony railing seeking relief but instead only made the situation worse, feeling the cold iron on my exposed back. esteban had noticed me at that moment and, when he finished rolling his cigarette and put the pack of tobacco back in his pocket, he asked me "do you want to go back inside?" with a cigarette in his mouth. he was more handsome than ever, carefree hair, cheeks and nose red from the cold and bright eyes.

“no don't worry” i told him smiling “i just have to get used to it” he nodded, looking at me then at the ground. he leaned on the railing next to me, lighting his cigarette and releasing the smoke in little clouds from his mouth. i felt nervous: i didn't know what to say and i was freezing to death. “maybe you want my jacket?” he asked me suddenly, turning to look down at me. he smiled and as I nodded he gave it to me. i put it on and immediately breathed a sigh of relief. “oh my god, thank you so much.” he just gave me his jacket. that was completely normal, no need to act strange. right?

“so,” he said, leaning on the railing, taking a drag on his cigarette, “what are you going to do now that filming is over?” he released the smoke and turned to me. “i think i'll go back to studying, i have a degree to get” i laughed but immediately stopped as soon as i realized that my life from that moment on would never be the same again. i had to go back to my old boring routine. “and you?" i asked him curiously “will you continue acting?” i knew that esteban had always been an actor, and a very talented one, but maybe he had other plans for his future?

“i'll go back to acting in the theater” he replied, smiling at me “i'm very happy to have taken part in this movie, but the theater is my life” every time i heard him talk to others about the theater i saw how excited he was and how his eyes shone. it was nice to see him get excited about what he loved, he had the purest soul. “that’s nice! maybe i’ll come and see how you’re doing sometimes.” i said grinning and smiling at the same time. “i would be very happy if you did” he told me in a flirty tone, getting closer to my face. but laughed it off beacuse i was too embarrassed even just to look in his eyes.

the conversation went on without problems, we talked about this and that, laughing and joking. but after a while we realized that we had been out for almost two hours. “maybe we should go back” i told him, shrugging my shoulders and looking inside: enzo had just put “vivo” by gustavo cerati, one of my favorite songs, on the stereo, and i wanted to go inside with esteban to sing it. “yeah here, i'll finish this cigarette in a minute.” he replied, turning his back on me.

perhaps because of the alcohol or perhaps because all of a sudden i felt particularly brave, i let my body adhere perfectly to his, resting my chin on his shoulder and closing my eyes. everything was perfect: that night, the background music, the stars, him. i felt him relax at my touch and take the last drag of his cigarette before putting it out. he moved from his position and so did i from mine. we found ourselves facing each other and looking into each other's eyes for what seemed like hours, but then he put one hand on my cheek and the other on my waist. i slightly jumped at that contact, but it didn't bother me: it was what i had been waiting for since the first moment my eyes met his.

“can i tell you something?” he asked me in a whisper, his gaze not leaving mine. “yes please.” i answered immediately, eager to know what he wanted to tell me. some time passed before he spoke again, until he finally said “ "i just really enjoy spending time with you and you really have become someone very special to me and-" my eyes lit up the moment he started talking, in that very moment i was admiring him in all his beauty. “oh fuck it” he said exasperated, as he couldn't find the words to finish his speech. so the hand that was resting on my waist reached my cheek, caressing it, and his lips rested softly on mine.

it was a sweet kiss, his lips were cautious on mine, and i could feel him smiling. he broke away from the kiss and ran his thumb over my lips, smiling at me. i knew i was blushing unexpectedly but i felt reassured when i saw a bit of embarrassment on his face too. “as much as i would love to stay here with you all evening, we really have to go back now.” i told him, looking up and chuckling softly. “yes, maybe you’re right.” he replied, letting me go. when we returned, agustin approached us, more drunk than ever, who immediately hugged esteban. “kuku! where were you? we were looking for you! why are you blushing?” he asked, looking serious and inspecting his face. “i'm not blushing, it's just very hot.” esteban replied embarrassed, looking away. luckily i was behind him and agustin didn't see me laugh.

”kuku, it's literally snowing as we speak” i looked outside and yes, it was snowing. in that moment i started laughing, the situation was just too crazy, while agustin looked at me with an interrogative gaze, he wasn't understanding what was happening. as soon as i finished laughing i said “sorry, i'm going to get a glass of water.” as soon as i turned i headed towards the kitchen, winking at esteban. the last thing i could hear was agustin talking to him “you have to tell us everything, everything!”