#i've just been feeling it this year i guess. i got stuck on it for a couple weeks and just kept looping back to it

[deoidesign]

I met the me who made different choices

[fortes-fortuna-iogurtum]

..

[keeps-ache]

gonna keep it shmoovin man

[inbabylontheywept]

The Motherfucking Lizard King

No one at work trusts my boss. 

He's smart. He works hard. He's not trustworthy. He hasn't actually fucked anyone at work over, but he's ruined his last two marriages with affairs, and got dumped by his third fiance when he wouldn't sign a prenup. The fact that we all know this is just a hazard of working in a small town. 

Anyway: The thought process of the people in the lab is that if he screwed over his first wife, and his second wife, and was probably planning on screwing over his third wife, it would be insane for him not to screw us over. After all, what kind of idiot treats their employees better than their spouse? 

I dunno. His kind, I guess? He's had a few chances to fuck us over, and he hasn't taken them. Opposite really. When our parent company was doing furloughs, he stayed in the office almost a hundred hours, talking and talking and talking his way up the corporate ladder. And in the end, no one at our site got furloughed. 

He's pulled strings like that before. And it baffles me, right? Because it really does make zero sense. He'll move the heavens and the earth for us, but his wife and kids are afterthoughts. It feels like any moment, he's going to look into the mirror and realize how stupid that is. It feels like I'm betting on him making the same stupid mistake again, and again, and again - like it would be less cynical to believe he was, eventually, going to stab me in the back. But he hasn't yet, and as far as I can tell he's been making that mistake for close to fifteen years, and it's already cost him everything it can. If he was going to learn, he would have by now. 

So my position on him is that if he wanted to date someone I cared about, I'd warn them off. I don't trust him there. But I tentatively trust him to be my boss. Maybe one day he'll stick the knife in and twist, and everyone will say Ah, Babs, we warned you, but for now, I accept that he's doing a very predictable, very irrational thing, and I've made my peace with it. 

---

My job has glue traps. 

No one likes the glue traps, but we don't have a lot of options. Poison's banned by state law, spring traps are banned by company safety, and several non-lethal options tried in the past failed to work. The mouse problem can get pretty bad if it's ignored, and there's some real health hazards in that. Our site has never had a positive hantavirus test, thank God, but the big base about a half hour away has. That guy's gonna be on oxygen the rest of his life. 

If a mouse gets caught, we just euthanize it. But more than mice get stuck. Lizards can wander into those traps too, and the people working there have different feelings about the lizards. They don't pose nearly the same kind of risk mice do. They're chill little guys, and they keep the moths away, and they're just 

You know. They're friendly. There's something to be said about walking into a room, and hitting the light switch, and seeing two little guys on the wall start to do pushups as soon as they see you. 

People used to just euthanize the lizards too, but I had pet leopard geckos as a kid and I couldn't take that so I wound up googling how to free animals from glue traps. Now, when a lizard gets stuck in a trap - which happens once or twice a week - I get some vegetable oil from the breakroom, and a little plastic fork, and I'll spend fifteen to twenty minutes just kind of gently prying the little guys out. 

I have a team of technicians that help me operate one of the larger machines. They're real blue collar guys, ex-airforce, and they make me look like a little kid. Being an engineer means they'll look to me as a leader sometimes, which is a wild experience. And I started helping the lizards for my own conscience, but one of the crazier consequences of it has been that it seriously boosted my leadership cred. Because those guys see me, and they go: Hey. If he's willing to fight for a lizard, he's gotta be willing to fight for me. 

I cannot overstate how nice that is. Most engineers that want to make a change to a maintenance practice, or try an upgrade, they have to work their asses off to get the techs to buy in. But I can just ask. They already trust me to do good. They know I'm new, and they know I'm not the smartest engineer in the building, but they also know I'm the one who gets lizards out of the glue traps. 

And just because of that, they're willing to follow me. 

---

My boss has a meeting every month or two. It's typically basic house cleaning stuff - reminders about routines we've gotten lazy on, and updates on future projects. Maybe some warnings about problems coming from higher up in the company.

People are, in my opinion, a bit too cynical about the meetings. It stems from people not trusting our boss, which again, I understand, because it would make so much more sense if he wasn't trustworthy. It's a testament to the man's incredibly unhealthy priorities that he is. But as we made it to the end of the meeting, one of bullet points was: 

Do NOT mess with animals in the building. 

So I looked at my techs, and they looked at me, and when he got to the point, he was so scathing I actually just wanted to crawl under a rock and die. He said basically that he'd heard some reports about someone in the building handling animals that found their way in and got stuck, and that he just wanted to emphasize how insanely inappropriate that was, not to mention dangerous, and that if he needed to speak to anyone about it again, there would be severe consequences. 

I was willing to just take the shame and move on. I was. But one of my techs is old. Old enough he could've retired two years ago. And his actual literal goal is to one day get angry, yell at someone, and storm out. That's how he wants to retire. So instead of biting his tongue like everyone else, he stood up and said: I hate the glue traps. You hate the glue traps. We all hate glue traps. But we've all sat here for years, ignoring the little things that get stuck in them, watching them die, and then Bab's comes in, and he is the first person in decades to give enough of a shit to start pulling the lizards out. And I don't want him to stop. 

Get humane traps or shut up but we are not going back to the old way of just letting things starve. 

And my boss actually froze up. He got all wide eyed and stared at Marc, and then the other techs jumped in, and there was a very small but intense rebellion in the meeting and my boss kept trying to interrupt while getting absolutely bowled over by this gang of angry middle aged air force vets, and eventually he just went 

I will speak with Babylon about this afterwards! After! And then he will speak with everyone else, but I have more points to cover. 

So they went silent, and my boss rushed through the last five minutes, and we all adjounred. The techs really didn't like that I was going in alone - they thought our boss was going to try and shout me into compliance. Marc in particular was like, Look, if he tries bullying you, stand your ground, and if he threatens anything, just come get us, and we'll give him hell. 

So armed with that, I went to my boss's office. I sat in the chair across from him, and he kept his composure for maybe five seconds before just flopping back into his chair. 

I had no idea you were saving lizards, he said, but I'm glad you are. I always hated seeing them die in the glue.  

I wasn't expecting that. I was about to ask him what the comment from the meeting was about then, but he answered that before I even got the chance.

A snake got into the building last week, and - someone picked it up and chased a coworker around. Turns out that coworker was severely afraid of snakes, and now it's a shitshow. We're a small site, and now I can't ask those two to work together anymore, to say nothing about how the snake fared after all that. Being upset about that is a reasonable thing, right? 

And he gave me a look like he actually wanted an answer, so I said Yeah, totally, chasing a coworker around with a snake is a dick move. Especially if that coworker is already afraid of snakes. 

And he said Exactly! and then we sat there a few moments longer. He looked so incredibly tired that I did, actually, feel kind of bad for him. And then he somehow managed to sink even further into his chair, and said

Look, I know I'm not a good guy. But I'm not evil. I'm not some sort of crazy asshole that's going to demand that everyone watch lizards starve to death. When you go back downstairs, could you try to pass that on? That I'm not evil? 

I said Sure because it wasn't a hard request, and he looked relieved. I actually made it halfway out before I realized I had a question. 

Who grabbed the snake? I asked. 

Not supposed to talk about it, he said. But whoever comes to mind first is probably right. 

ThatGuy? I asked. And he looked me in the face, nodded his head yes, and said No. 

---

The techs seemed a little disappointed that they didn't get to storm the boss's office, but were otherwise in good spirits. They were actually a little bit embarrassed to hear about the snake story - apparently, it wasn't much of a secret. It'd just slipped their minds because it happened three weeks ago. 

We did maintenance after that, the same basic repairs we did every week. The meeting had been stressful and it was a relief to work with my hands. When the parts were reinstalled, everything cleaned and smooth and ready to go, Marc found me again. 

You know what the lesson of today is? he asked. And there were quite a few answers to that that I could have taken - from don't assume the worst of people to be careful with how you spend your trust - we all need it more than we think. 

But instead I said what? because I wanted to hear what his answer was going to be. 

That I got your back, he said. Then he clapped one very, very large hand on my shoulder, gave it a good squeeze, and walked back to dosimetry lab.

---

The next day, Marc gave me a package and told me to open it in my office. I was suspicious, but I followed the request.

Cardboard gave way to a small baggie, obviously full of fabric, which opened to reveal a t-shirt that read

"I Am the Motherfucking Lizard King."

I looked at it, I loved it, and then I got an idea. I went to my boss's office and knocked on the door. When he opened it, I asked him if he would be willing to allow something very unprofessional to happen for morale building purposes.

How unprofessional? he asked. I held the shirt up in answer. He gave the shirt a short look over and snorted.

You can wear it on weeks without customers, he said. Which just so happened to include that week.

I'll pass on that it came with your blessing, I replied, and he looked oddly relieved.

Thanks, he said. And then I went downstairs.

---

The techs were very, very happy to see the shirt. And while my boss's reputation remains in tatters, and probably will be until he moves (or dies), the next time there was a meeting, there was quite a bit less complaining about how mere presence. Which is, I guess, a start.

We'll see if he squanders it.

[snowflop]

I forgot YouTube has a recap feature, yippee! I love music :)

[asterdeer]

haven't watched the last two loki eps. haven't watched the last two ofmd eps. haven't finished the last season of mythic quest. haven't listened to dndaddies in months. haven't listened to dungeons and drimbus in over a year. haven't haven't haven't. hng argh blah and so forth

[m-a-d-e-l-e-i-n-e]

I know that I wasn't ready at the time and it's really unhelpful to just dwell on things you did in your past that you can't change, but man it's sometimes hard not to think about how much I regret just not having gone to a four-year university right after high school so I could finally get away from home and my current situation that was and still is making me miserable and then proceeding to fail my community college classes because I was depressed

[kiss-inthekitchen]

pairing: spencer reid x reader

set sometime in early s2; you get stuck sharing a room with your favorite boy genius who absolutely cannot know that you have feelings for him. and also, there’s only one bed. fluff, f!reader (i think there's only two usages of gender markers)

word count: 4.7k

notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3. i'm thinking i'll do more of these, i've got a few spencer fics in the vault and it was fun to rework this and see how my style has changed :)

You shivered against the cold desert air. Twirling a keyring around your finger, you headed for the door marked 3. You were exhausted from the day and so, so ready to collapse into bed as soon as you got inside your room. 

You turned the key in the lock while Spencer waited behind you. It was late, and you and the team had pulled into a motel for the night, having been dragged out to a tiny rural town by the unsub after days of tracking him through surrounding areas. He’d been apprehended, finally, and handed over to local police around midnight. You all had decided it best to spend the night before driving back into town in the morning for take off. 

So here you were, at one of those single story motels that still used actual keys instead of key cards. Given the time of night, you knew vacancies would be scarce, so you’d already expected to have to double up on rooms. Gideon had stayed behind at Quantico, leaving Hotch and Morgan in one room and JJ and Prentiss in another, with you and Spencer sharing the last room. You’d hung back while JJ got everything figured out with the concierge (who was just a bored looking kid posted at the desk), and then she’d passed you your key with its little keyring attachment listing the room number and you all bade each other goodnight.

You’d been on the team nearly a year already, but you were still the rookie compared to everyone else. Even Spence had two years on you. But seeing as you two were the youngest, and the least inclined toward the more physical parts of your job– the chasing, tackling, firing your weapon parts– you were paired off with him more often than not. 

You weren’t complaining. You’d come to know Spencer pretty well, and you didn’t feel much apprehension at the thought of sharing a room with him for one night. 

That is, until you opened the door. 

“Oh,” you said involuntarily.  

"There's only one bed,” Spencer said. 

“Sure looks that way.” 

"At least it's a queen?" 

There was a brief pause before you both started speaking at the same time. 

"Maybe we can go back to the concierge–" Spencer began. 

"I mean, I guess I don't really–" 

"–although, JJ did say we got the last–" 

"–mind as long as you–" 

You cut yourself off this time. It’s not like there was another good option, unless one of you wanted to sleep in the car. "This is fine?" it came out as a question rather than a statement. 

"I think so? I wouldn't want to– to make you uncomfortable or anything."

"This is fine," you repeated, more sure of yourself this time. “And you don’t make me uncomfortable.”  

It was only kind of a lie. You trusted Spencer with your life, of course. But he also made you nervous. He was sweet, kind, always seeming genuinely interested in anything you had to say. And of course, anyone could see that he was attractive. You were developing feelings for him, and in a job where your coworkers and your crush himself were all adept at reading people, it really wasn’t a good position for you to be in. You just hoped Spencer was as oblivious with women as Derek made him out to be. 

"We should get out of the doorway," Spencer suggested, and you realized you'd been standing in the threshold this whole time.

"Right."

The two of you walked in, Spencer closing and locking the door behind you. It was a modest room in a tiny town; your standard ugly-patterned, faded bedspread draped over the queen bed in the center, a window looking out into the parking lot, and a dresser that didn’t even have a TV on top of it. You headed straight for the bed, sitting on the edge and removing your shoes while Spencer stood by with his hands in his pockets.

"You know, if it's a problem I can sleep on the cou– uh, the chair," Spencer offered, looking back mid-sentence and realizing that the only additional furniture this motel offered was one rigid looking armchair by the window. 

"No, you're not doing that."

"What?" he asked, taken aback by the quickness of your response.

"You're not sleeping in that chair. It looks horribly uncomfortable and I’m sure it’s never been cleaned, and I know how you’d feel about that.” 

Spencer grimaced, not having thought about that particular detail. “Yeah, but, I mean… I’d do it for you.” 

God, why did he have to say stuff like that? Like you were something special. And why now, when you were stuck in the same room with him until morning? It probably didn’t even mean the same thing to him as it meant to you. He was one of the most caring people you’d ever met. He’d probably say that to any one of you on the team. 

Or maybe sleeping in a chair meant nothing to him at all. Maybe he actually didn’t want to share the bed with you and that’s why he was trying so hard to avoid it. 

Ugh. You just wanted this day to be over. It was late, the case had been a week long, and now you were probably in for a fun night of overthinking and second guessing when you’d been expecting silence and easy, dreamless sleep. 

Okay, maybe that last part was never really an option, but still. 

“Look,” you sighed, “I know this isn't an ideal situation but there's a perfectly good bed here, so let’s just share it. If you’re okay with that. It's just one night and tomorrow we'll be back home and nobody has to know about it."

You had to fight from squeezing your eyes shut in regret. You wished that had come out differently. You chanced a look at Spencer, realizing that you’d been staring down at the faded carpet pattern while you spoke. 

The look on his face was one you hadn’t seen before, and you almost couldn't place it. He seemed sort of disappointed. Disappointed that he had to share a bed with you? Or that you'd made it sound like you didn't want to share a bed with him? Nope, you could not go down that road tonight. You shook your head once as if it would clear the thoughts from your tired mind. 

“I’m okay with that," he said, casually enough that you could almost convince yourself that you’d just imagined the look on his face before. "So, do you want the shower first, or...?" Spencer asked.

"No, I can wait, you go ahead," you said. You desperately needed the moment to yourself anyway.  

You started rifling through your bag for pajamas, toiletries, and your charger as an excuse to look busy while Spencer made his way into the bathroom with his things. As soon as the door closed behind him, you flopped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if it might hold all the answers. 

Spencer couldn't know about your feelings. For one thing, you were pretty sure there was a rule against dating your colleagues in the BAU. If not, there probably should be. You were such a close knit team, and if anything went wrong… you couldn’t imagine how difficult that would be. But then, the evil and uncooperative part of you also couldn’t help but think that things might go right. 

From the beginning of your time at the BAU, you’d been drawn to Spencer. It just kind of made sense. You’d gotten through school at an accelerated pace– though not as quickly as him, the man was on another fucking level when it came to academics– and you were one of the only people who found his fact dropping actually interesting, often asking him follow up questions. He’d looked adorably shocked the first few times you’d done that. 

He listened intently to your passionate rants about your favorite films and tv shows, even though he hadn’t seen any of them. When the two of you had discovered a shared interest in mythology and folklore, Hotch nearly had to separate you so you would actually get some work done. It was like you were a kid in school again, and you might’ve been embarrassed if you didn’t find it so funny, if you weren’t so giddy at the idea of a friendship that could make you feel like a kid again. 

Spencer understood you in a way that other people didn’t, laughing at your jokes even when they didn’t land for anybody else. When people interrupted or spoke over you, he always paid attention, and in situations where you were trying to add details to the profile he’d bring the conversation back around to you. 

Throughout your life you’d learned– through painstaking trial and error– to fit in pretty well in most any group you found yourself in, but you’d always considered yourself to be a little weird. A little too different. But when you were with Spencer, you felt like you didn’t have to try so hard. You could both be a little different, together. 

Spencer opened the bathroom door then, startling you. You’d been so lost in thought you hadn’t even noticed the water turn off. You looked over to see him wearing a loose white t-shirt and pajama pants, his hair still damp. And now you knew what Spencer looked like fresh out of a shower. And of course it was endearing as hell. 

“If that’s how you’re planning to sleep,” Spencer began, referencing how you were laid out in the dead center of the bed, your arms fully outstretched and hands hanging off the mattress, “then I think we might have a slight problem after all.”  

You walked out of the bathroom a short while later, dressed in your usual sleepwear of shorts and an oversized shirt. You’d put your hair up in a bun to protect it while you showered, and now it hung loose around your shoulders. You simultaneously wished your outfit was cuter and uglier; knowing your giant t-shirt wasn’t flattering your figure while also feeling like you had too much skin exposed. Not that it mattered. You were just going to get some sleep and then wake up in the morning and head home. Everything would be back to normal. 

Spencer’s in bed already. He’d turned off the big light while you were showering, the lamps on either side of the bed casting him in a softer, warmer glow. He looked up from his book to find you standing there, and the soft, familiar look in his big brown eyes had you rooted to the spot. 

“Hey,” he said softly, patting the space next to him in invitation. 

You conceded, finding your legs again and sliding into bed beside him. “Hey.” 

He fidgeted with the pages of his book, ultimately shutting it closed on his index finger to mark the page. “So, uh, are we okay?” 

“Yeah, of course,” you answered genuinely, feeling bad that your internal struggle had manifested in a way that worried him. 

“Okay, cool,” he said. He paused long enough to let you explain if you wanted to, another invitation. You knew he wouldn’t push it if you didn’t offer something up. You wanted to give him an explanation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. 

“Sorry,” you managed. 

“For what?” 

“I don’t know… acting weird, I guess. It’s just been a long day.” 

“Oh, well, you don’t need to be sorry about that. You’re always weird.” 

Your mouth dropped open as you looked at him. “Look who’s fucking talking,” you scoffed. Some of the tension dropped from your shoulders, glad he hadn’t questioned you further. 

“Language, please,” he held up a hand to stop you. “I’m delicate.” 

“Wha–?” you let out a surprised little laugh. “You’re an idiot!” 

“Yeah okay, tell that to my I–.” 

“Oh, my IQ of 187,” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. Even that was full of endearment. “God, you are so annoying.” 

“Hm. Y’know, this might be a long night for you. I’d hate to keep you up with my annoyingness.” 

“I feel like you could’ve come up with a better word than annoyingness, Mr. 187,” you tilted your head where it rested against the headboard, looking up at him. 

“Oh, she’s being a smartass now!” he split into a surprised grin, and you could swear your heart skipped a beat. 

“You just said ass.” 

“Wow. How quickly you’ve corrupted me.” 

“Right, of course. It’s my fault.” 

“I knew you’d agree.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” you laughed. 

Things felt a little bit more normal after that, joking around with Spencer like you normally did made the rest of the night feel less daunting. 

Shortly after that, the two of you agreed that you should get some sleep, each reaching over to turn out the light on your respective sides of the bed. 

You let yourself sink into your pillow, the exhaustion you had been feeling giving way to a hyper awareness of Reid’s body next to you. You were kept awake, completely overcome by the foot of space between you and Spencer; the consequences of crossing that space, the way it might feel, the curiosity over whether he was laying awake too, thinking the same thoughts as you. Even with that foot of space separating you, you could feel his body heat. You longed to move closer to him, to touch him, to let his warmth seep into you and lull you to sleep. 

But you didn’t, and you wouldn’t, because this was just an unfortunate booking mishap. It didn’t mean anything. Tomorrow it would be over, and you could more easily go back to hiding your feelings from everyone else and yourself. 

Eventually, exhaustion won out. 

You woke what could’ve been a few minutes or a few hours later, the sky still dark. You couldn’t tell what exactly had woken you up, only the sense that you’d moved, almost like you’d fallen. But fallen from what? 

You blinked in the dark, the street lamps in the parking lot providing enough residual light to keep the room from being pitch black. 

Reid was sitting up. He must’ve bolted upright, you thought. Had that been what moved you? Were you lying on him?! 

“Hey, you okay?” 

“Sorry. Just a nightmare,” he said as if it was nothing. “Sorry to wake you.” 

“What was it about?” you ignored his apologies, sitting up as well. 

“I don't really even remember,” he breathed, almost like it was funny. “Just having a physiological reaction to whatever it was, I guess.” 

You had nightmares too, of course. You all did. You hated remembering them, but you also hated the times when you woke up in the dark, dazed and inexplicably scared. Without thinking, you reached for his hand. 

He turned to look at you then. “I really didn't mean to wake you,” he reiterated. 

“I figured,” you smiled slightly. You noticed his breathing was just a bit too fast. You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand, leaning over to rest your weight against his side, your head on his shoulder. His nervous system would regulate itself quicker this way. 

“You were on my pillow, by the way.” 

“What?” you ask, your head jerking back from him. 

“I totally called it. You rolled right into the center of the bed in your sleep. Total bed hog.” 

“Hey!” you protested, pulling your hand back from his in embarrassment. So you had been lying on top of him. Or at least really close to him. His hand chased after yours, finding you again. 

“That wasn’t me complaining about it.” 

“Oh,” was all you could think to say back. 

It was quiet for a minute. You let your head fall back onto Spencer’s shoulder, but your heart raced in your chest. 

“Can I ask you something?” he questioned, his tone becoming more serious. 

“Oh– of course,” you answered, your brow creasing. 

“What did you mean when you said ‘it’s not ideal’ and ‘nobody has to know about it’?” 

“Wh– I– Spencer, come on.” 

He didn’t give you an out this time. Just waited for an answer. 

“I don’t even really know,” you sighed.  

“I believe you’re being partially truthful about that.” 

“Don’t profile me.” 

“I’m not. I just know you.” 

You sighed. “You know, sometimes I hate that stupid memory of yours.” 

“I don’t need an eidetic memory to remember that. It was a weird thing to say, and it happened like four hours ago.” 

“You’re guesstimating. And it wasn’t that weird.” 

“Maybe not, but the way you said it was. And you’re avoiding my question.” 

You continued to avoid it, biting down on your bottom lip. 

“And you stuttered when I brought it up.” 

“I told you to stop profiling me.” 

This time, he just hummed in response. 

“And so what if I stuttered?” 

“Stuttering is usually more my thing. A nervousness thing.” 

Maybe this was actually your nightmare. Maybe you’d wake up soon and none of this would’ve been real, and you wouldn’t have had to explain to Spencer that the reason you’d had an attitude was because the situation tonight had made it harder to hide your feelings from him. Big feelings that became a lot harder to ignore when he was this close to you, still holding your hand, the mix of scents from his detergent and deodorant clouding your judgment. Of all the embarrassing scenarios that you could’ve imagined playing out tonight, this was very high up on the list. 

“I said ‘it’s not ideal’ because it’s not, just by definition. We were supposed to get a double room and we didn’t. Not ideal. And I said no one has to find out because I can already see Morgan having a field day with it and I know the exact expression that’ll be on his face–” 

“The eyebrows,” he nodded, lips pursed. 

“And then everyone else will get in on it and I just figured…” you sighed. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to deal with that.” 

“That all makes total sense.” 

“Good,” you breathed. Too relieved. 

“Now tell me the rest of it.” 

“God, Spencer–” you huffed out, frustrated. He knew you too well. 

You wanted to run. Maybe you could go sleep in the car after all. And then ignore Spencer for the rest of the day, and then the year, and your life, and– 

“Don’t make me say it,” you breathed. This had to be a dream. 

“But there is something to be said?” he questioned, his tone hushed, almost reverent. 

It was just vague enough. You could pretend it was nothing. 

“Yes.” 

You felt like you’d just blown your life up with one word. 

Spencer took a deep breath, your body cresting and falling with the movement of it. 

“You make me feel better about being myself,” he confessed.  

You shut your eyes. You had a constricting feeling in your throat suddenly, and the awful realization that you might cry. 

He spoke again, because you couldn’t. “I haven’t always felt good about it, you know? And then you joined the team, and, well– you changed a lot of things for me. And you’re beautiful, obviously, and I was scared to mess up what we have, because it’s special, I think–” 

“It is.” 

“–and then you started freaking out when you saw the bed,” he was smiling now, you could hear it, “and I thought, maybe it wouldn’t be so crazy… maybe I could make you feel that way too.” 

“You do. Of course you do. I feel like I can be my full self with you. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt like that before.” 

Spencer laughed, a little delirious giggle, and squeezed your hand in his. You’d managed to avoid crying, thankfully, and you grinned along with him, looking down at your joined hands as you squeezed him back. 

Things seemed to still for a beat, the two of you sitting with this moment and letting it stretch out. You still couldn’t really believe this was happening. You might have to tell Spencer to pinch you. 

“So what does that mean for us now?” you asked. 

“Well, for right now at least, I think it just means that we can go back to sleep without overthinking things into oblivion.” 

“I was not–”

“Okay, this time I am profiling you, and you’re lying,” he cut you off, his smile still evident.  

“Oh, this was such a mistake.”

He continued like you hadn’t spoken, laughing a little as he went. “I could practically hear it. It’s like, you know when a computer is trying to use too much processing power and the fan starts whirring really loud? Like that but just like right next to me, like tangible—“  

“Okay! Thank you so much, I actually totally got it, you can stop now.” 

He laughed, and your cheeks warmed. 

“For the record, I meant we could both stop overthinking.” Then he shifted a little, facing you a bit more. With the hand that wasn’t holding yours, he brushed a strand of hair from your face, a fake pout on his lips. “Sorry I make you nervous.” 

You cackled at that, if it was possible to cackle in hushed tones. “Oh, I bet you are. Besides, I know you like me now, so you’ve lost that card.” 

“Are you certain of that?” 

“Certain that you like me or certain that you can’t make me nervous?” 

“The latter. I do like you, if that was unclear.” 

Your heart sped up, contradicting you as you answered, “Then I’m certain you can’t make me nervous.” 

He titled your face up to his then, using his index finger underneath your chin to make you look at him. “You’re an awful liar.” 

You just shrugged, watching triumphantly as Spencer’s gaze fell to your lips. “It’s been working out pretty well for me so far.” 

“I guess it has,” he murmured, closing the distance between you and finally kissing you. 

After so many months of imagining (and berating yourself for imagining) what Spencer’s lips might feel like on yours, you weren’t disappointed. 

For once you didn’t have to think at all, the chemistry between you and him drowning out everything else. His hand fell to your waist, and yours moved to the curve of his jaw, pulling him closer as his mouth moved against yours. Your teeth grazed his bottom lip and he gasped, and your skin felt like it was lit up from the inside. 

You pulled away to breathe, and to process, and to try and stop your head from swimming. You were rewarded with the awestruck look in Spencer’s eyes as he opened them again. 

“Okay, was it just me, or–” 

“That was crazy,” you breathed.

“Crazy,” he agreed. 

“Spence?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I don’t think we’re getting back to sleep tonight.” Your eyes widened at the implication of saying those words at that time. “Not, like, in the sex way, though,” you hurried to correct yourself. “I need like, 4-5 business days to process things first, and I– well, I just meant, like– you know?” 

Spencer was nodding at you even as his eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “Can I still kiss you during those 4-5 business days?” 

“Oh, yeah,” you said, sounding breathless. 

“Cool,” he agreed. “You seem really nervous, by the way.” 

“Well, you kissed me.” 

“I did.”  

“How were you not nervous?” you breathed. 

“Oh, I was. Your reaction is making me feel a whole lot better about it though.” 

You scoffed half-heartedly. “I do so much for you.” 

“You do,” he replied earnestly, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “We could lie back down, if you want. Like we were before I so rudely woke you up.” 

“Yeah, I’m super mad about that,” you joked. “Anyway, I was asleep for that, so you’ll have to show me what I was doing.” 

He seemed all too pleased to do so. “Okay, so you were basically like,” he leaned back against the pillows, pulling you down with him, moving his hand to the side of your head to guide you to the place where his shoulder met his chest, “Like that, and then your arm was over here,” he picked up your arm and guided it around his waist. 

“Oh god, that’s so embarrassing,” you said, realizing that he must’ve been awake when you’d done it. 

“Yeah, I know. Really terrible time for me.” 

“I can imagine. I can scoot back over to my side of the bed, just say the word.” 

“Don’t you dare,” he said, squeezing you closer. 

You trailed your fingers up and down his waist, feeling more content than you had in ages. 

“I can’t believe you’d suggest that I would have sex with you right after confessing my feelings. Like, take me to dinner first at least.” 

“Oh my god,” you half-exclaimed, half-laughed. You felt your cheeks heat up again, grateful it was still too dark in the room to be noticeable. “You’re right, I’m so sorry. How’s next Friday?” 

“Hmm, I don’t know. My work schedule is kind of unpredictable. I’ll have to get back to you.” 

“You’re such an ass.” 

A few short hours later, you were back on the jet with the rest of the team. You were lying on the couch while Spencer sat in a seat one row up and across from you, both to avoid suspicion and so you could try to catch up on sleep. He sat facing away from you, but with the angle you were at you could still see one side of his face if you tilted your head up. 

You were just beginning to fade when your phone buzzed next to you. 

Spencer: I have to tell you something, coworker to coworker. 

You looked up to see him blank faced, looking down at the book in his right hand, holding his phone in the left. 

You text back: okay? 

Spencer: My crush asked me out last night. 

You’re exceptionally glad no one was sitting close enough to see you. Spencer had caught you off guard, and you felt an infatuated grin spreading across your face. 

You: what did u say? 

Spencer: Wanted to get your opinion first. 

You: i think u should say yes, obviously. 

Spencer: Idk, I’m kinda nervous. I think she’s trying to jump me on the first date.

You just barely managed to refrain from laughing out loud. You looked up at Spencer again, and he’s looking at his phone as if it contained nothing more than a weather report. You’re astounded. 

You: one could argue that technically you’ve already slept together, so there’s less to be nervous abt

You saw his eyebrows raise just slightly. Success. 

Spencer: You’re trouble, you know that? See you Friday night

You: i promise i won’t try to jump you 

Spencer: Oh

Spencer: I fear I may have shot myself in the foot here

You: i wouldn’t worry about it too much

Spencer: That’s rich coming from you 

You rolled your eyes even though he couldn't see you. 

You: whatever. wear something sexy ;) 

You heard him blow air out of his nose, an almost laugh. 

“Something funny?” you heard Derek ask. 

Shit. 

“This book contains a historical inaccuracy that was proven incorrect eight years before its publishing date,” Spencer replied without missing a beat. 

Unbelievable.

You: you’re unhinged :*

Spencer: Go to sleep already, would you? 

You: coworker to coworker? my crush keeps interrupting my beauty sleep 

Spencer: He’s probably worried about the worldwide implications of you becoming any more beautiful 

You: i guess that’s why the universe gave you insomnia :( too pretty 

Spencer: Stop flirting with me

You: bc you’re too delicate?? 

Spencer: Yes 

You snapped your phone shut, feeling dazed. You watched the clouds go by in the window across from you, and you couldn’t help letting your gaze slide over to Spencer. He’d put his phone down as well, concentrating on his book. Or pretending to concentrate. He was turning the pages much too slowly for his actual pace. 

You: you have got to do a better job of fake reading than that

You heard a page turn. 

You looked up again to see the ghost of a smile threatening the corner of his mouth. 

This was going to be fun. And also, you were so screwed. 

[bbydoll18xx]

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart (Part 3): Grinning Like I’m Winning

Paige Bueckers x reader

The aftermath of a drunken confession.

Word Count: 2k

Themes: more angst, fluff and a happy ending :))

Masterlist

Part 1 - KK tries to set you up on live, and things between you and Paige go south.

Part 2 - You go out on a date. Paige gets drunk. Chaos ensues.

A/N: helloooo thanks to everyone who has stuck with me I know it's been awhile since part 2 (i've had terrible writers block) I really hope you enjoy this! I've got a lot of exciting plans for the next few weeks as well

~

You had barely slept. With Paige’s confession ringing hauntingly in your ears, sleep had evaded you, and you were slowly losing your mind. 

Your thoughts were swirled with anxiety and a creeping giddiness that threatened to bubble up and ruin the strict boundaries you had placed on your psyche to prevent ruining your cherished friendship with Paige. Her actions hinted towards perhaps a mutual feeling, but the devastating thought that it was just the alcohol teasing you, made your heart drop to your ass. 

You and Paige had previously had several run-ins with close calls with drunken confessions and touches and glances that had felt a little less than friendly. But you had both brushed them off, thinking it was easier to internalize the confusing feelings than dealing with them head on. 

Your thoughts drift back to the way she held onto you last night, as if she was terrified of losing you, and you cannot forget the way she launched into you when you came to pick her up from the bar, whispering into your neck about how she missed and needed you. 

Was it friendly? Maybe, but the hopefulness in you made you think it was laced with something more. And you were going to ride that high until reality came to slam you back to the crushing realization that you and Paige were just friends. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Paige shifts beside you, moving closer into the warmth emitting from your body, and a quiet hum of content leaves her throat. You run a hand through her soft hair, gently scratching her scalp, pulling her out of her slumbers. She opens the eye that wasn’t smushed against her pillow, blinking a few times as her brain registers your presence. 

“Hey,” she whispers, her voice huskier than normal, and your belly flips at the sound. Her morning voice was a personal weakness of yours, and not being able to hear it the last week had affected you more than you liked to admit. 

“Mornin’, P. How’re you feeling?” You ask, eyes raking over her face, trying to avoid looking at her lips, as she slowly licked them. 

Paige groans, rubbing her eyes. “I drank way too much last night,” she mumbles. 

You agree with her, nodding your head as a chuckle threatened to escape. “You usually can hold your alcohol better than that. What the hell happened?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, jostling you as she does so, a gentle reminder of how close she was to you. “How was your date?” she asks, effectively changing the subject.

Your heart falls again as you recall the disastrous end to your date with Scarlett, and you sigh. “I’m guessing you didn’t hear?”

Paige shoots you a questioning look, shaking her head adorably, eyes still clouded with sleep and her hangover.

You clear your throat. “She basically just wanted to go out with me to get closer to you,” you trail off, the embarrassment washing over you once more. “So I walked out on her.”

“Fuck, baby,” she breaths, a look of pity enveloping her features. “You deserve so much better than that.”

“It’s fine,” you mumble. “I think I’m just going to be on my own for a while, ya know? I’ve had so many bad dates this past year, and it’s getting discouraging.”

“You never know, though. The right girl, o-or person might be closer than you think,” she says, stuttering over her words. 

“Maybe. Just tired of people fucking me over,” you say, hoping she doesnt hear the audible crack in your voice. But it’s Paige, and because you’re you, she doesn't miss it, and her face morphs into one of sadness and regret. It haunts you, and all the aching in your chest slams back into you at an alarming force, crushing you. 

A few moments of silence pass, and after you had shoved your face back into your pillow to hide from the cruel reality of your ridiculously embarrassing dating life, Paige speaks. Her voice is quiet, an echo that subsequently shatters any last attempts to hold on to the friendly confines of your relationship.

“I’d never fuck you over.”

Peeking back up at her, your face softens at her admission. “I know, P. That’s why I love you, ya know,” you respond, and her face flushes. 

Neither of you were awake enough to scrutinize over the verbiage, but in both of your hearts, you knew it was more than a friendly kind of love. It was enough for now. But not for long, as you would both come to realize.

~

“I really thought she liked me. And i just want someone who actually gives a fuck about me, ya know? Like my standards are literally on the floor at this point, and I’m still alone,” you mumble, a pout on your lips as you recount your latest failure of a date with Scarlett to Azzi and Jana. You’re squished between them on the couch in Paige’s apartment, and the blonde could not keep her eyes off of you.

Her gaze was hot, and you could feel it follow you from the second you walked through the door with a sour expression covering your face, bitter that you could not have Paige. 

Her words were still on a constant loop in your mind, incessantly mocking you over the fact that you were still just friends, and you were too much of a coward to risk ruining things with her. So you resorted to bitching to the other girls, appreciating that your distaste for dark haired girls who fawned over Paige Bueckers was the perfect distraction.

Across the room, Paige listened to your diatribe, trying to pump herself up to just admit her feelings to you now that she was sober. The other girls were simultaneously shooting her looks of pity and encouragement, aware of her feelings. It was easy to notice how Paige had gotten absolutely wasted in your absence, and it was well known that her drunken ramblings of how pretty you were and how she fucking loved the way your hair flowed over your shoulders were not just from the effects of the alcohol. It was something more.

It would always be something more.

“Lots of people give a fuck about you,” Azzi says soothingly, patting you on the shoulder. “Someone might be closer than you think,” she adds, and you don't miss the gleam in her eye.

“Yeah, yeah,” you wave her off with a lighthearted eye roll. “That’s what Paige said.”

Paige nearly jumps at the sound of her name, and Jana covers her mouth to muffle a laugh. 

You look over at Jana. “What is so funny?”

She clears her throat, trying to play it off. “Nothing!”

You squint at her, trying to figure out her angle. The girls were acting so weird tonight. You were naturally perceptive, and you definitely weren’t an idiot; you could see the shooting looks sent between you and Paige from the other girls. And you could actually see the wheels turning in KK’s head as she exclaimed “I’m bored. Let’s play Never Have I Ever!”

Your heart begins to race as your nervous system goes into overdrive. You would not put it past KK, or any of the other girls, to try and reveal your feelings to Paige for a laugh.

The thought of unreciprocated feelings was enough to make you want to crawl into a hole and hide forever, and despite Paige’s drunken admission still ringing in your ears, you had not let yourself believe that there was any truth to it. Because believing that she actually loved you was almost too much. 

KK claps her hands, gathering everyone into a large circle on the carpeted floor, pulling you from your worries. You sigh, getting up from your spot on the couch and plopping down next to Ice and Aubrey. Paige was sitting directly across from you, and for what feels like the tenth time since you had walked through the door, Paige was staring at you with those goddamn blue eyes and an expression that was hard for even you to read. 

Fuck, this was not going to be pretty.

The game started out innocent enough. Aubrey had started, asking everyone to take a drink if they had participated in underage drinking, eliciting laughs from the younger girls who were in fact currently underage. 

Next to Aubrey was Jana, who asked the group who had ghosted someone before. You once again sipped your drink, as did everyone else. The pounding in your heart lessened, hopeful that no one was planning on being too messy tonight.

The game continues for a few minutes with no issues. The drinks are quickly drained as more and more questions are asked. Soon enough, it’s KK’s turn and the sly grin on her face makes you instantly nervous again. KK was the one constantly encouraging you to admit your feelings to Paige, and you knew she would not hesitate to put it all on the line if she thought it was the right thing to do. 

She rubs her hands together mischievously. “Okay, y’all. Take a drink if you’ve ever had feelings for a friend.” 

‘Fuck me,” you think, a flush covering your face. You duck your head, trying to subtly take a drink. Across the circle, Paige drinks, too, and KK hoots loudly.

“Shut up,” Paige mumbles, flipping off the younger girl, and you nod in approval. 

It was now Ice’s turn, and she looks over at KK with a similar grin. “Take a drink if the friend you have feelings for name starts with the letter P,” she smirks.

Your head spins, and you feel all the blood drain from your face. Everyone was looking at you now, including Paige. Your hand shakes as you bring your cup to your mouth, taking a tentative sip, desperately trying to avoid the stares of all the girls, who were now stifling their laughs. 

“Fuck off,” you whine. “I don't wanna play this game anymore.” 

“Take another drink if you’re in love with Paige Bueckers,” KK says with a dramatic wink in your direction, and you give her a death stare.

You ultimately had two choices: deny the fuck out of it or grow a pair and admit your feelings. And in an insane display of bravery, you take one more drink, eyes boring into hers.

The room erupts into cheers and gasps of shock, and you hear multiple mumbles of “finally” as you do so. 

“Get your cute butt over her,” Paige says, patting her thigh with a fond look, and you stand up without even thinking, nearly rushing over to finally be close to her. The great war between your head and your heart was over, and she was yours. There was absolutely no denying that.

She pulls you into her lap, and you lean into her touch, just as you wanted to when she was drunk off her ass. “I told you last night that I loved you,” she said teasingly, and the girls erupt in loud gasps again.

“WHAT?” they yell, causing you to wince at the volume. 

“I thought you were just drunk,” you say shrugging, a small smile on your lips. “How was I supposed to know you actually meant it?” 

“I straddled you, baby,” she stresses, grinning, running her hands across your hips.

“Well, you know now,” you respond.

And she did. And soon the whole world would, too, because there was just no hiding those heart eyes with Paige. All thoughts of your shitty love life evaporated in that moment. Gross frat boys and gold-digging dark haired girls were quickly erased from your memory, and they were replaced with the pretty blue eyes of your best friend who loved you.

You could do it with a broken heart, but now your once cold and desolate heart was full. And that was all because of Paige.

~

@patscorner @lovesickramblingsofmine @jaeyoonstie @obi35

that was fun! thank you so much for reading!! let me know what you think :)

xoxo katy

[woso-dreamzzz]

Oops

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: It was an accident

"Sorry," Jessie says again," I mean it. I really am."

"I know, Jess."

"I didn't mean for it to happen, honestly!"

"I know, Jess."

"I don't deserve forgiveness."

"It's not that bad, Jess. Barely even an injury."

Jessie looks at you incredulously, brows raised to her hairline.

You're sitting in a hospital bed. Your face is covered in scratches and bruises and your arm is firmly stuck in a cast. Your shirt is torn up from your tumble, ripped in random places and you're pretty sure your legs were only spared because you were wearing your heavy-duty jeans.

Jessie was new on the team but not new to you.

You'd transferred from your childhood team Manchester City just last year to the Portland Thorns for more game time. Jessie had been your long-term girlfriend for a while back then and when she'd moved to the Thorns a few months ago, you'd been ecstatic.

You just wish you'd had the hindsight to tell her to stay away from your skateboards.

"I feel awful," Jessie continues," Does it hurt bad? Do you need the doctor again?"

"Jessie," You say," They're just getting the discharge paperwork. Please don't make them keep me here longer than needed."

Jessie bites her lip, like she always does when she's feeling nervous.

It had been an accident on her part.

You had been out with Jessie on a date with your skateboard and was standing on it at the top of a set of steps, contemplating going down the railings.

Only Jessie had been bumped into by someone in the crowd and had then bumped into you, sending you careening down the stairs.

"I guess I'm stuck in the stands for a bit," You joke, laughing slightly before stopping when you see her face.

Jessie looks distraught over the whole thing, halfway to tears at your bedside.

"Jessie, babe," You say," Come here."

You pat the portion of bed beside you and Jessie shakes her head.

"No," She says," No, I hurt you."

"It was an accident. it wasn't even your fault. You got barged into first."

"But you get hurt. I broke your arm."

"Technically, the stairs broke my arm."

"And your face-"

"It'll heal."

"Stop making excuses! You're hurt and you can't play!"

You grin at her dopily. "Some things are more important than playing."

Jessie nods along seriously. "Healing, you're right."

A little bark of laughter bubbles out of your throat. "I was going to say watching you play but trust you to think about my health."

"Well, one of us has to care! You're being very blasé about this!"

"Jessie, come here."

"I-"

"Jess, please?"

She shuffles onto the bed with you and you throw your arm over her shoulder, pulling her closer into you until there's barely a gap between you.

"I'll be fine," You tell her, staring into her eyes," It was a clean break. No surgery. Just a cast. I'll be fine in a few months. It wasn't your fault. I won't hear you saying otherwise."

"But-"

"No, Jess. It was just a horrible accident. That's it."

You're not usually this firm with her but Jessie, your sweet girlfriend was spiralling like always and you were adamant about her not shouldering the blame herself.

"I didn't mean to," She says, eyes wet with unshed tears and you tuck her head into your neck.

"I know, Jess, I know. It's okay. Just a freak accident. I shouldn't have been on my board in the first place."

Jessie's short hiccupping laughter fills your ears. "No, you shouldn't have. We need to throw them away when we get home."

"Would that help you sleep better?"

She nods.

"Alright. Can we sell them though? Because, you know, some of them are worth enough to make serious money. We can redo the kitchen."

You can feel Jessie smile into your neck. "Only if we promise we can have a breakfast bar."

"Breakfast bar and a reading nook," You agree," But I've got to be allowed to keep one board."

"Not the one from today."

You kiss the top of her head. "No, not the one from today."

[filthyf1]

A Long Short Time

pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

content warning: MINORS DNI (18+); Porn WITH Plot, cunnilingus, blowjob, unprotected sex, slightly tipsy sex?... Not entirely healthy relationship dynamics….

summary: Daniel and you broke up two months ago. He comes back to get the last of his things…. And the rest is history.

word count: 5k

author's notes: AHHHHHH this was so nerve wracking.... it's been so long since I've written anything so please let me know your thoughts!!!

____

Two months. A short time that felt like a millenia to you. The apartment felt emptier than usual. He wasn’t there often before, but it was more than never. Life felt slow and tedious, and you weren’t exactly adapting well. 

It had been two months since you and Daniel broke up. That felt like such a silly and simple way to explain it, but that’s exactly what happened. It was and then it wasn’t. Four years and it was over just like that. 

Daniel was let go from VCARB after the Singapore GP. The fans could tell something was wrong from his interviews, and their guesses were spot on. He’d known it was the end and given it his all, understanding that it wouldn’t be enough. His whole life came to an abrupt halt, just like that. What was the point of contracts in the first place? It felt like a crime to let him go before COTA, and yet… 

Just as his career came to a screeching halt, your relationship did as well. The comfort you thought you could give was simply not enough. Nothing you could say or do could make it right. It made sense even if it hurt. What do you do when the thing you’ve worked for your whole life gets pulled out from under you? Some people cope and move on, collect the pieces and figure out how to go forward. Some people burn the rest of the world around them and crash. 

What began as trying to comfort him turned into an all-out shouting match and ended in the door slamming behind him. 

“I can’t do this! What the fuck would you do?”

“I don’t know! Lean on my friends? Family? My fucking girlfriend, maybe?”

“Well, nothing like this has happened to you. You just get to sit around and be pretty. Life is so fucking easy for you.”

That last one stung - his sharp words certainly hit their mark. You played the conversation over and over again in your head for the past 60 days, trying to think of an alternative ending.

The movers eventually came and took his things, leaving both the space and your heart wide and empty. And that was how the past two months went. Your apartment was small, but when a whole other person’s things were removed, it felt much too large.You got to see him unwind and find himself by his own posts and his friends’ on social media. The news outlets were fucking annoying. Apparently, one of the most interesting things to report on was an F1 driver’s relationship status. And the paparazzi had exactly as much sympathy as you expected. You were sure there were at least a dozen photos of you crying floating around on Twitter, Facebook, etc. 

It was your turn to feel stuck. You felt like the last four years were a waste. What were you working towards? It was upended so swiftly and easily. You saw Daniel regaining the light back in his eyes while he attended sporting events and went dirt biking with his friends. You sat in your flat drinking wine and looking at the city lights contemplating what could have been. 

There were things you wanted to accomplish that you put on the back burner and now regretted never pursuing. Maybe once you got your spirit back, you’d go after the fashion degree or write that book that always sat in the back of your mind. Just a little bit more groveling…

What really hurt was finding things the movers missed. Little things here and there that you knew he would miss, a helmet here, a jersey there. So instead of burning them like a lot of people might, you gathered them and put them in a box. You put your big girl pants on and sent him a text, hoping it would still go through, and let him know he could pick it up whenever he was back in the city. And to your surprise, not only did the message go through, but he answered. It was the only thing you’d heard from him since he left and unfortunately, you clung to it. 

It was another Friday night that wine was your companion. Your friend had visited for a few days for some gossip and retail therapy, but unfortunately she had left earlier that day and you let the loneliness seep back in. The riesling helped dull it a little bit. You were halfway through the bottle, feeling the pleasant buzz settle into your muscles. 

Music swept through your apartment while you danced and cleaned things here and there when your phone dinged on the counter, interrupting the melody you were currently feeling. Thinking it was your friend who forgot her lipstick on your counter, you swiped the message open without a second thought. Once you read it, however, the blood drained from your face and you looked on in horror.

Be there in 20 if you’re still awake.

Okay…. Okay. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You were very much not sober enough for this. The bottle of wine looked on in amusement and you glared at it, as if it wasn’t your choice to partake in the first place. That still didn’t stop you from chugging the rest of the glass in front of you. Maybe it would help you to be more relaxed or cool in his presence. You glanced at the clock on your oven.

11:20PM.

Late, but not ridiculously so. You wondered what exactly he was doing in the country. But that wasn’t really any of your business anymore. 

It was fully in your right to deny him, let him know it was not a good time to stop by. Your sober self needed 3 to 5 business days to prepare for this, but your tipsy self wanted him to stop by now. Your chest ached at the thought of seeing his face again in person. You craved it desperately. Against your better judgement, your fingers sent out a quick, “Ok.”

Oh, God, what were you doing? 

Simply put, you fucking missed him. There was no denying or getting around it.

“Fuck, this is happening,” you breathed to yourself. You ran a hand through your hair, a nervous mess. You ran to the bathroom to do a once over; you looked as much a mess as you expected. Hair everywhere and eyes slightly glassy from alcohol. You swallowed hard, trying to fix things, but gave up after a minute or two.

Sitting back in your kitchen, you nursed another glass of wine. There was no going back now, so you might as well commit. A knock came a few minutes later, causing you to jump in your seat. 

“Fuck,” one more for the road. 

You approached the door slowly like a victim in a horror movie. One last hesitation, and the door swung open and there he was.

He stood tall, not at all bowed under the pressure he had experienced so recently. His hair was longer than you remembered, the curls so perfect and tangled it hurt. They weren’t yours to run your hands through anymore. You were sure you looked sad and pathetic, and he stood in front of you looking healthy and radiant, something you hadn’t seen in a long time. He looked damn good.

A breathy, “Hi,” was all you could muster. You immediately kicked yourself internally. So much for keeping your cool. Daniel gave you a once over that made you feel hot inside and self-conscious at the same time.

“Hi,” he gave a soft smile and you nearly melted. It was such a stark difference from how your last conversation ended. You stood in silence for another few seconds, taking him in. This was how you wanted to remember him. 

“Fuck, uh, sorry, I don’t have your stuff here,” you shook yourself out of the trance. “Do you… want to come in for a minute?” You weren’t sure if this was a good idea or not. You didn’t have a great track record with exes and them visiting your place of residence. 

“I’ve got the time,” he said. 

You’d be lying if a plethora of less than innocent thoughts were running through your head. He looked better than you remembered, and the feelings were still there, ready to be unearthed at a moment's notice.

He took everything in. The air felt heavy with unspoken tension and you wondered what he was thinking. His eyes settled on the empty wine glass and less than full bottle.

“Been drinking?” He asked and a smirk settled onto his lips. His facial hair was growing in, and you’d be lying if your mind didn’t wander. Beard burn was a hell of a drug.

“Yea,” you said sheepishly, a hand running through your hair to dispel your nerves. “There’s whiskey if you want a drink. I still have your favorite… I don’t really drink it…” You trailed off, not really expecting him to accept. You thought he would be itching to leave as soon as possible, the weight of the last conversation heavy on your mind. To your surprise, he opened the cabinet that he knew very well and grabbed the whiskey. He grabbed a glass (that cabinet never changed either) and poured himself a double. 

“Cheers,” he held the cup out. You poured the rest of the wine into your stemmed glass and clinked your glass against his. You paused, watching him down the glass, his Adam's apple bobbing and a single droplet of whiskey dripping from his lips and trailing down his neck. Sinful thoughts flashed across your eyes, but long gone now were the days where you could lick it away. You averted your eyes quickly and drank your wine in one swift gulp. Anything to distract you from the images circling through your head. 

“You’ve been doing well - at least from what I’ve seen,” you placed the wine glass down in the kitchen sink and Daniel followed suit. The heat of his body was heavy behind you, his arm right next to yours. You fought everything in you to fight freezing. Surely, he wasn’t doing this on purpose? You didn’t have much time to contemplate as his body was gone in the next moment. 

He leaned against the kitchen counter - his arms propped his body up and you chose to avert your eyes from his toned form. Two months was clearly not enough time to stop those thoughts from clouding your mind. Was it you or did he just look you up and down?

“I’ve been… okay,” he didn’t elaborate, but the silence explained enough. Maybe it was easier to put on a smile for the camera.

“You still miss it,” it wasn’t a question.

“Every day,” he nearly whispered. His warm brown eyes held yours for a second too long and you wondered if you were still talking about racing. You cleared your throat, not totally sure how to address that. 

“Things ended pretty poorly, huh,” you averted your eyes. Now was not the time to let your tears get the best of you. Your last argument was the elephant in the room and you’d explode if you avoided it for another second. There was a tightly wound bundle of resentment, pain, and anger in your stomach. You were mad at him for walking away. Mad that he seemed to get over things pretty damn quick while you were still fumbling for a grasp on things. Mad that he walked right back in like nothing happened.

“You could say that again,” he said simply. You went to speak again but he cut you off. “I’m sorry for the things I said.”

Your eyes shot to his. He wasn’t really one to open up and talk about things like that. He tended to take things out on the track and work through them that way. He didn’t have that anymore though, so maybe he found talking was easier these days. 

“Thank you,” you said roughly. Blinking rapidly to stop tears from coming forward. What were you supposed to do now? You never stopped loving him, but you were feeling so many other conflicting feelings at the same time. Daniel made a move as if to come forward and comfort you, then thought twice about it. He was obviously feeling a lot of things too. He cleared his throat.

“So, you said you put everything in a box?” He looked around. If things were heavy before, they weighed a ton now. 

“Um, yes, your stuff is in the hall closet. I put it in a box for you - I’m not sure it'll fit in whatever car you drove, but you can always send someone to pick it up for you,” you over-explained as you walked towards said storage. Were you delirious or was that his body heat on your back? This time it did not disappear. 

You slowed, turning to face him. He was as close as you suspected, his strong frame standing over you. His pupils were blown, his breathing slightly accelerated. You’d be a fool to deny that his scent was intoxicating. The same cologne and musk you remembered that was distinctly Daniel made your head spin. You swallowed hard and Daniel’s eyes flickered down to your eyes then your throat.

“Daniel?”

“I’ve missed you,” he breathed out, his voice deep and husky. Your heart pounded hard in your chest. You wanted this more than anything. You wished he’d just kiss you already. Your body ached to feel his against yours again. It had been so long. You were both suspended in time, your eyes locked with each others’.

“I missed you, too,” you replied. He looked relieved at that, like he thought you had moved on. As if you’d ever be able to do that.

“Yea?” He was even quieter that time.

“So fucking much.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“I wish you would.”

Whatever dam was once there broke in an instant. Daniel surged forward and his lips enveloped yours. You couldn’t help the groan that leaked from your throat. You missed this so much it hurt. One of his hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him. His other hand found the back of your neck and his fingers wrapped into your hair. His body was hot against yours, your skin searing wherever it touched his. He backed you into the wall without his lips leaving yours once. You eagerly reached your hands to his hair and pulled on the curls you missed so much which earned you a groan in return. You fit together like two puzzle pieces. 

You gulped in air as he moved his attention to your neck, his facial hair scratching you in the way you remembered. Words couldn’t describe how much you missed this. His leg parted yours to push against your clothed cunt and pin you to the wall. God, if he thought you were moaning like a whore now… He suckled hard on the soft skin of your collar bone and your fingers tightened in his hair.

Things were complicated, sure, but this was here and now. Right now you were feeling pretty damn good for many reasons and your present self didn’t care much about the potential consequences. Daniel was a man starved and you were an oasis in the desert. 

“Take me to the fucking bedroom before I strip you here,” you barely got out.

“Can do,” he replied between pressing kisses up your neck. “Not that I would entirely mind…” His strong arms moved to loop under your thighs and lift you up easily. He took a moment to hold you against the wall and kiss you again. His need was as evident as yours; you could feel him straining against his jeans. His tongue was hot and furious against yours and you feared being fully consumed by him. 

Your body temperature was running at one-thousand degrees and you felt like you were about to burst. Daniel’s tongue was wet and insistent against yours and you drank him in. Soft groans echoed from him and you could barely handle it. He carried you to your room, placing you softly onto your plush bed. His body was heavy upon yours, barely holding himself above you. You took the opportunity to roll your hips against his, eliciting a moan from both of you. You wondered if he was with anyone in your absence and then quickly pushed that thought away. It was none of your business, and you chose to believe the answer was no based on the way he was acting. 

Your hands trailed around each other; you missed the feel of each others’ bodies. Something told you that neither of you would last long. Already you feel yourself soaking through your panties.

Barely able to tear himself from you, Daniel managed to rip his shirt off. He looked just as good as ever and your mouth watered at the happy trail disappearing into his pants. 

“See something you like?” He grins evilly.

“Shut the fuck up and take my pants off,” you sigh. He did not need to be told twice. Your pants were removed in a flash leaving you in your underwear and shirt. The shirt was quickly removed after. Lucky for you, it was nearing laundry day which meant you had only your skimpiest and laciest underwear leftover. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Daniel sighed. 

“I’d apologize but I’m not sorry…”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he leaned back in and placed soft kisses down your torso. His hands pawed your chest roughly, pinching your nipples between his fingers and causing you to keen into him. He came back to place one more kiss on your lips and captured your bottom lip between his teeth to nip at the soft, swollen skin. You rolled your hips into his again but this time he caught them and pushed his own into you to fight back. Everything with him was a delicious push and pull.

He edged back down, but not without placing wet kisses along your torso on his way there. He grabbed the band of your underwear between his teeth and pulled them off. His eyes held yours as he did so and you felt the blood rush to your cheeks. The man knew how to make you blush, that was for sure. They peeled back from your dripping pussy in a way that was almost embarrassing. You didn’t miss when he took the panties and shoved them into his back pocket. 

His lips ghosted over the inside of your thighs and drank you in in a way that made you light headed. You wanted nothing more than him to put his fucking mouth to work. He could sense your urgency and gave a cheeky chuckle.

“Don’t pretend you don’t want this as much as me. I’ll suck your dick if you hurry up and eat me out,” you threatened.

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

His mouth was warm and the pleasure shot deep through your core as soon as he ran his tongue over you. 

“Fuck,” you barely managed. Your head hit the mattress - Daniel held you tight and didn’t allow an inch for you to squirm. Your legs draped over his shoulders and your toes curled as he worked on you. The wet sounds that came from your cunt were sinful; when Daniel paused for air and to smile at you, you could see his chin glistening. He was relentless, moaning into your folds and your head started swirling. “Daniel,” you gasped and one hand clawed at his shoulder while the other held tightly to his hair. “I’m not gonna last - if you keep doing that I’m gonna come.”

“Good,” he barely pulled back. Now that he had that information, he didn’t hold back and within a minute you were writhing and moaning underneath him as white hot pleasure coursed through you. He alternated between sucking and swirling his tongue around your clit. His strong arms barely flexed to hold you down as your hips rolled against his tongue. He only relented when your hips stuttered as you became overstimulated. You were gasping and swearing. It was way too long since you’d felt like this. He pulled back, but only far enough to place more open-mouthed, sloppy kisses along your thighs. He let you recover and kissed his way back up your body on your hips, your stomach, your breasts, and finally your collarbones and neck. 

“Sooooo, you said something about getting my dick sucked?” He asked and completely evaporated the heavy mood. You couldn’t help the laugh that exploded from you and you hit his shoulder weakly. He fell back dramatically on the bed, holding his shoulder in mock pain. “You wound me, woman!”

The light humor was nice, but it made your heart ache. You missed this so much and you realized that this ended with Daniel walking out the door. This was all a moment of passion after time apart. He’d take the rest of his things and go back to his life and you’d go back to yours. Instead of wallowing, you chose to shove it to the back of your mind and enjoy the moment that was happening in front of you. You put the smile back on your face and turned your attention back to Daniel. You kissed him deeply and softly once and ignored the slightly confused look on his face.

You pushed him back into the bed and he propped his head up by putting his hands behind his head, and you swallowed hard at his flexing biceps. He still wore his jeans so you palmed him roughly through the thick fabric which earned you a look that could kill. You licked a stripe over the coarse hair that sprouted up his stomach. He was hot and salty with sweat and you craved to take him into your mouth. 

Removing his belt slowly, you teased him; how much could he take? To your surprise, he was exceedingly patient and looked down at you with a disgusting smirk.  You pulled down his jeans and wiped said smirk off his face by placing a feather light kiss over his clothed cock. He smelled hot and musky, and you couldn’t wait to strip him completely. The pants and boxer briefs came off together and got tossed somewhere along the rest of the clothes on the floor.

He was just as you remembered. You suppressed the whine that built in your throat. He was already cocky enough; he didn’t need to know you missed sucking him off. You took as much of him in your mouth as you could, the rest taken care of by your hands. Another thing he didn’t need to add to his ego was his size. He was heavy and warm on your tongue with the sting of bitter saltiness from the precum that leaked from his swollen, red tip. A deep groan came from him and you looked up to see his head thrown back and his bottom lips caught between his teeth. A small ego boost for you too. 

You dragged your tongue from his base to his tip. Following the thick vein that ran up his length, you took him in again and hollowed your cheeks. He couldn’t control the groans and moans that spilled from him and one of his hands came down to wind through your hair and hold it up.

“Look at me,” he commanded. Bold of him, but you had to admit you missed this possessive side of him. You obliged him and looked him dead in the eyes but did not pause your ministrations. You let him push his hips into your mouth to fuck your throat. You were out of practice and gagged once before holding it back. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you loved it. You swallowed around his length and his hand tightened painfully in your hair. His hips thrusted against his own will and his eyes squeezed shut. “Okay… okay, stop, or I’m not gonna make it to the main event,” he breathed heavily. Still got it, you thought smugly. You released him but not before placing one last kiss on the crevice between his crotch and his thigh which earned you a satisfying twitch.

You climbed up, settling yourself on his lower stomach. This was one of both of your favorite positions. Daniel loved seeing you above him, riding his cock and finding the exact right spot that got you off. It was a position that allowed you both some control and he liked being able to see your face. You scooted back and grabbed his length, ready to position him and sink down when he halted you by catching your hips in both of his hands.

“Fuck, I didn't bring a condom,” he sighed and paused. You almost lost your mind. 

“I don't fucking care,” you moaned and pushed against him. “And I'm still on the pill.”

“You didn't stop it?”

“Just be glad I didn't and fuck me already, Daniel,” you whined. You knew adding his name would be the cherry on top of a cake he couldn't deny. He took the head of his leaking cock, swiping it through your folds to collect the excessive wetness there, and pressed himself into you slowly. The stretch ached deliciously. It had definitely been awhile. Daniel hissed between his teeth as you sunk down on his length inch by agonizing inch. 

When he was fully inside of you, you took a moment to adjust. You steadied yourself with your hands on Daniel’s chest, and he grabbed your wrists to pull you back down to him. Your lips met his in a surprisingly tender kiss that stirred things in your chest that you were having trouble keeping buried. You blinked away tears for the second time that night, but this time a warm hand came to cup your cheek and stroke the skin there. 

Whatever happened tonight, you hoped you and Daniel talked after this. He brought you so much joy and comfort. His warm brown eyes held yours as if to say everything would be okay.

“Okay, I’m fine. You can start moving,” you breathed out and began rocking your hips. He listened and held your hips to guide you up and down on his cock. He felt just as good as you remembered. Maybe better. The room was filled with the harmony of your moans and the wet, rhythmic slaps of your hips meeting each other. There was no sweeter sound.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby,” he moaned. “So fucking good for me. So tight and fucking soaking. All for me,” his hips snapped to meet your movements. Him calling you baby lit a spark in your belly and spurred you on.

“Faster. Fuck me faster, Daniel,” you whined, desperately chasing your high. He complied and moved faster and harder. He stuck his two forefingers in your mouth and you sucked on them, your tongue swirling around the digits. You looked at him through your lashes and he groaned deeply. You felt deeply in your soul that only you two could have this effect on each other. His thrusts became more erratic, his breathing deeper and faster, and you knew he was nearing the edge. You decided to spur him on, wanting to hear his sweet sounds and see the beautiful face he made when he reached it. You beared down on him, squeezing him and matching his rhythm.

“You’re so good, Danny. You make me feel so good,” you could barely get the words out.

His eyes squeezed shut as he tried to maintain his composure. Sweat beaded on his brow and shined on his chest. One hand left your hip to rub quick circles on your clit to give it right back to you. You were so sensitive from earlier that the effect was immediate. One hand flew to muffle the sounds coming out of you, but Daniel ripped it away. He wanted to hear every sound uninhibited. 

He held on until your orgasm crashed over you. You hoped you wouldn’t be receiving a noise complaint from your neighbors the next day, but would understand why if you did. Your thighs shook and you couldn’t control how you rutted against Daniel like a crazed person. That was all he could take and his hands tightened painfully into your soft skin. He bit his lips hard and his eyes screwed shut. His hips hit once, twice more before slowing. Was that a whine coming from him? God, that sound alone could make you cum again. You reveled in the bliss, slowly moving your hips to ride it out. 

The room was quiet for a few minutes after, save the heaving breathing coming from both of you. Finally, you pulled yourself from Daniel, a soft sigh coming from him. You were battling yourself on what to do next. Now that it was over… What came next? Maybe you would take a hot shower and then he’d be gone with his things when you emerged. That was usually how this kind of story went, right? At least he wouldn’t be around to see you fall apart.

You made a start to get off the bed, but a warm hand wrapped around your wrist. You were pulled back down. Warm arms wrapped around you and then you were laying against his overheated body, your legs draped over his like nothing had ever changed.

“Don’t go,” he said into the top of your head.

[thegirlamongthestars]

what would you do? - c. alcaraz

author's note: it is not my first time writing smut but it's been a long time since I've done it. So sorry for any mistakes or bad wording.

summary: Carlos faces his female nemesis, who happens to be a WTA player, in a brutally honest and steamy training session

wc: 2,7k

warnings: +18 content, smut, fingering, protected sex (play safe! put it on!), riding, filthy as fuck

Roland Garros 2023

It all began with a seemingly routine press conference, and honestly, I thought nothing of it. I was still riding the high from my last match, feeling confident and ready. Adriana was next up, and I’d heard she was having a stellar tournament so far. So when she walked into the room, I was just another player waiting for my turn at the podium.

The press conference kicked off, and the questions were flying fast. Adriana started speaking about her training regimen, the hard work she’d put in. Then, I remember that time we shared space at the gym for a strength routine. I couldn’t keep my thoughts out about how she looked that day. Her concentration making her look exquisite and the way the sweat was shining on every inch of her soft-looking skin. Due to the memories and quite out of nowhere, I made a strange noise—like a half-chuckle, half-clearing-my-throat kind of sound. It wasn’t intentional but it came out as a reaction to my memories of her and as an attempt to calm myself. The image had been stuck in my mind, and I guess it just slipped out.

But what I hadn’t realized was how it came across. Adriana’s head snapped toward me, her eyes flashing with irritation. The room went quiet, all eyes on us. I felt the heat rise in my face. I hadn’t meant to insult her, not in the slightest. It was just a stupid, misplaced reaction.

The media seized on it, turning it into a headline: Carlos Alcaraz mocks Adriana’s training. Suddenly, a harmless moment was spun into a full-blown feud. Adriana began avoiding me, keeping her distance, and every interaction felt charged with tension. What had been a simple comment turned into something far more complicated, and no matter how many times I tried to smooth things over, it only seemed to make matters worse.

I couldn’t figure out why it bothered me so much. It wasn’t just the rivalry—it was the fact that something so small had escalated into this ongoing, uncomfortable dynamic.

Roland Garros 2024

Here I was again, one year later. The grounds were buzzing with the usual excitement. My game was sharp, my confidence high, but today felt about more than just a practice. When I saw Adriana around the venue, I quickly made up my mind about confronting her. We really needed to sort out the ridiculous misunderstanding that led us to this “enemies” dynamic. I hated having that type of reaction on her. I really hated it, well except when she pierced me with those fierce green eyes. At those times, I couldn’t help but feel like a teenager with crazy hormones.

I arrived at the court for the private training session, and she was already there. Doing some rallies with her coach. Her hair, surprisingly, was down displaying her light brown strands. It looked so soft it made want to grab it.

Five seconds on her presence and I was already this worked up, I really needed to start focusing.

I called my team over, keeping my voice low so she wouldn’t hear. “You guys head out. I’ve got this.”

They looked at me, confused, but didn’t argue. They knew better. One by one, they packed up and left, leaving me alone on the court. I watched her as they disappeared, and just like I expected, she glanced over.

She wasn’t stupid. She knew exactly what was happening.

To my surprise, she didn’t hesitate. With a quick head movement to her own team, she motioned for them to leave as well. They looked just as confused as mine had, but they didn’t ask questions. When they were gone, it was just the two of us.

The tension and the heat travelling through my body was immediate.

She picked up her racket, gave me a smirk, and walked to the baseline of my court. “So, what’s this about, Carlitos? Are you here to teach how to train properly?”

Her tone was playful, but I could feel the heat behind it. We weren’t kids anymore. Whatever had been brewing between us back then? It wasn’t going away. If anything, it was stronger now. More dangerous.

I shrugged, coming with an answer to match her question. “I’m sure I could teach you a few things”

The court suddenly felt much larger with just the two of us. The quiet settled around us, and I could feel my pulse pick up. It was like the air between us shifted. Heavier.

We kept rallying, the sound of the ball filling the silence, but it was different now. Every glance, every movement, had weight to it. I could see the way her breath quickened after each shot, the way she’d pause just a second longer before serving, as if she was aware of me watching her every move.

And damn it, I was.

Her ball, that I could have easily returned, turned into a point on her favor. She noticed that I was distracted and by the look she gave me, I knew she knew my reasons.

She stepped closer to the net after her shot, and I did the same, barely noticing how the ball stopped bouncing, the match forgotten. We were both breathing heavier now, but it wasn’t from the workout. I could feel her presence, feel the heat rolling off her, and suddenly, I wasn’t thinking about tennis at all.

“Distracted?” she put her hands on the hem of the net, getting closer to me and leaving her cleavage straight to my eyesight.

I was trying very hard to control the impulse of throwing myself all over her so I just shared the truth “Pretty much”.

“What if we play a game?” the mischief in her eyes sent a shiver down my spine.

This girl was dangerous. But this was the danger I liked. So if she was going to be shameless, then this was a game for two. I nodded and she began to explain.

“We are going to start a rally and at every point you win, you get to ask me a question; and vice versa”

“Okay, nic-“ she cut me off.

“But if you don’t want to answer to the question you have to take off a piece of clothing” her gaze expectant to my reaction. “Not the shoes, though. I don’t want you to break and ankle”

I started walking backwards, with my arms spreading, inciting her. “Bring it on, Adriana”

The first serve flew across the net, sharp and fast, landing just inside the baseline. Adriana’s return was quick and powerful. I sent a strong forehand cross-court, watching her sprint to catch it. She was good. Too good. But there was a flicker in her movements, the smallest hesitation when I moved up to the net, her eyes locking on mine for just a second too long. That was all I needed.

She missed the ball, and it sailed past her, bouncing off the back fence.

“One down,” I said, my voice low but teasing. “Do you really hate me?”

She laughed and lifted her t-shirt to dry her forehead, leaving her belly on display “No”

“Then why d-“ she left my words hanging again.

“Ah-ah, that’s not how it works Alcaraz” her head moving side to side cheekily. “Be brighter next time”

The next point was fast, both of us hitting with more force than necessary, trying to keep the upper hand. But this time, I lost focus, my mind more on her than on the game. She took advantage of it, hitting a perfect shot down the line that I couldn’t reach in time.

Her turn.

“Have you ever taken some of your personal time to watch a game of mine?”

She knew what she was doing. She already knew the physical effect she had in me and now she was trying to find out if I kept her on my mind.

She walked to the net, stopping just inches from me. “Well? What’s it going to be? Are you going to answer the question or…?”

I gave me her a slow, deliberate look, then—without a word—reached for the bottom of my shirt and tugged it over my head. My well-formed abdominals instantly showing and tan looking better under the sun rays. I saw how her breath caught for a second.

“That’s enough for you?” I asked, my voice smooth.

She swallowed, trying to keep her cool. “For now.”

I lost the next point, a backhand going wide.

I saw her leaving her racket on the bench and the way her hips swung while walking towards the net, had me hypnotized. She moved her finger on a “come here” motion and I did.

 “Are you brave enough to take off my t-shirt?”

This woman was going to be the end of me. At this point, I was not taking care of controlling my hormones and that was starting to note under my pants. I didn’t know how I would react the moment my fingers touched her skin, but my desire made me get closer to her immediately.

Her gaze was on mine all the time and at the moment I traced her waist with my fingertips, she bit her lower lip. I couldn’t help but release a lust filled pant. I raised the fabric until it was resting on top of her breasts, and I let my hands there for a moment, holding the sides of her rib cage. I looked down and it was undoubtedly the worst idea I’ve had in my life. Ironic, considering that I was having the greatest sight I’ve ever seen.

At that moment, something snapped in my head and all I could think was “fuck it”.

“What would you do if I kissed you right now?”

“That’s not fair” she put her hands at the nape of my hair, leaving us mere inches apart “It’s not your turn”

I could sense that she was saying that just to control herself so when I saw her licking her lips, I didn’t think about it twice. I leaned in; one arm on the net, the other enclosing her waist, pulling her even closer.

The moment our lips met, electricity shot through me, white-hot and consuming. Her lips were soft, but the kiss was anything but gentle. It was fierce, hungry—like we’d been holding this in for far too long.

Her hands found their way to my chest, nails scratching my pectorals. I couldn’t help but press my bulge to her hips and she left a moan on my mouth. I could feel her heat more than ever. The taste of her, the way her tongue moved against mine—it was intoxicating, better than I’d ever imagined.

And I had imagined it. More times than I cared to admit.

I needed more—more of her. The net between us was the only thing keeping us apart so with one swift motion, I gripped her firmly, lifting her off the ground without breaking the kiss.

Her body reacted immediately. She wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling herself tighter against me, her arms circling around my neck. At this position, she could feel me directly on her core so she didn’t wait much until she started grinding against me.

While we were still kissing, I started to walk us to one of the facilities built, for leaving our personal belongings, right next to the courts. During the way, Adriana moved her lips from my mouth to my neck and I almost tripped with my own feet. Her tongue followed her lips and she soon started giving small bites until she reached my ear lobe.

“You’re aggravating” she whispered looking into my eyes when we sat on the bench where I left my stuff.

“And why is that, honey?” now I was the one taking good care of her neck. I found a sweet spot of hers right under her chin and I had her moaning again.

“That day when you laughed at me” she was barely able to form sentences right now. “Y-you…”

“I didn’t laugh at you” my hand started trailing down her belly until it was placed on the hem of her skirt, my fingers surpassing the elastic but stopping there. “Do you wanna know what actually happened?”

“Y-yes but don’t stop”

Her neediness steered the fire within me even more and I complied her wishes. I kept my trail down, until I reached her wetness. I bit her jaw in response of knowing how much she desired me. With my fingers coated in her, I went up again and once I found her clit I started tortuously slow strokes over it.

“When you started talking about your gym routine all I could think about was how good your butt looked on those leggings you were wearing the time we trained together” I kept my ministrations, but I slowly entered her with two of my fingers turning her into a moaning mess. “About how badly I wanted to fuck you right there and then”

Her only response was arching her back leaving her breasts right at the height of my mouth. I started to give sloppy kisses and bites to the flesh that was sticking out the sport bra. The sounds she was making were sending me to another dimension and my dick was throbbing so hard that I was afraid she could feel it.

“I want you to fuck me here and now” she paraphrased my previous words.

I could feel my heart racing in my throat, my voice hoarse and needy “At your commands, reina”

With our lips and tongues having a full battle into a kiss, I reached my backpack. Right now, I was thanking that friend of mine that told me to always carry a condom on my wallet. When she saw what I had in hand she took it. Now she was the one slipping her hand through the waistband of his pants. When she palmed me over my underwear, I had to focus hardly on not cuming. She freed me and despite I was hard as a rock she gave me two strokes before putting on the condom.

“I knew you were big” she shamelessly said before licking my lower and upper lip. “Those white shorts are quite revealing”

I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I pushed the skirt and panties aside. She noticed I was on the edge, so she grabbed me and introduced it in herself. When she sat down completely, we both let out a satisfied grunt. Immediately, we reach for each other’s lips. There was something wild about the kiss we were having and we both felt it. The way we were sucking and biting each other's lips relentlessly and the way she was moving above me. Our skin rubbing together hard and the sound of us colliding making us both moan uncontrollably.

I then grabbed her tightly by the flesh of her hips, the movements double in speed and when my member reached the exact point inside her, I could see how her eyes rolling back. The pitiful sound out of her lips confirmed it to me and I started hitting the spot relentlessly. My stamina allowing me to increase the rhythm and depth even more, making us lose our minds.

“Touch yourself” I commanded her, and her dutifulness drove me dangerously near to the orgasm.

After a few more minutes of giving everything in us to please the other, we combusted into each other’s bodies trying to extend as much as possible the pleasure wave we were in. When our breathing pace slowed down, I grabbed her chin to make her look into my eyes and then we melted into a soft and delicate kiss.

“So, we can call it a truce?” I teased her when she snuggled up against my chest and I managed to get the sweetest laugh out of her lips.  

“Don't tempt fate, Carlitos”    

[neil-gaiman]

hi dad,

ok i know ur not -really- my dad lmao just let me cope. i lost mine, so you're stuck with that title now. anyway. i just felt like telling you how great things seem to be going for me rn (fuck i hope i don't curse it). i've been a fan for a long ass time, but i got into the GO fandom only last year, and in just a few months i feel like i've gotten so much better, both mental health wise and creatively. i'm a neat little bundle of depression, anxiety, autiADHD, BPD, and cPTSD. isn't that lovely haha. but hey, i'm also a writer. a poet. an artist. and a helluva burned out musician. BUT. ever since i've been hanging out here, i've been writing SO much more, i've been doing fanfics, and so many cool poems, and improving my writing skills so much. i started drawing again after like 2 years of not touching a goddamn pencil, and i just bought some paint and a canvas bc i wanna get back into painting again like i used to when i was younger. and also through reading other GO fics, i've felt inspired to play piano again, which was a great deal to me a few years back. and it's awesome to feel that spark again.

Good Omens has meant a lot to me since i first read it around 2015. but now more than ever because there's a whole community i can share stuff about it with and it feels great. i recently lost a close group of friends, one of my best friends to suicide, and well. my irl dad. and i've been feeling hella lonely for a long time. but i feel like i've been gaining that sense of community again through good omens. and i can't tell you enough how much it means to me. so, idk. i guess i wanted to say thanks for that. and also for being so supportive of trans/queer people. it means the world to me. so. thanks dad. ily

I'm just glad I'm helping.

[happy74827]

Something Wholesome

[Logan Howlett & Teen!Fem!Reader]

Synopsis: In which you can’t help but feel the need to comfort the big grumpy ape.

WC: 2054

Category: Comfort, Slight Fluff, Reader is Vanessa’s Younger Sister, 4th Wall Breaks {TW: Wade Being… Well, Himself.}

Even being the worst Wolverine, I believe he still is 100% a girl dad, and I stand by that statement.

『••✎••』

"I thought you quit?"

Your voice startled him. He jumped and almost dropped the cigar he was holding between his teeth. Logan's eyes fell upon you, standing in the kitchen doorway with your arms folded.

"Jesus, kid. You're gonna give me a heart attack." He shook his head, taking the cigar out of his mouth and holding it between his fingers. It was still unlit. "How'd you get in here, anyway?"

You held up a ring of keys and shook it in the air, the jingling of metal echoing around the room. "It’s called having a brother-in-law who can pick locks." You tossed the keys on the counter and sat down across from him, resting your head in your hands. "Are you having another midlife crisis, Warrior Cat?"

"You're a brat, y’know that?" He rolled his eyes, taking the cigar and tossing it back into his jacket pocket. He ran a hand over his face, sighing.

You watched him closely. The bags under his eyes, the wrinkles, the slight hunch to his shoulders. He looked old… and not the usual, rugged, cool old. You frowned, leaning across the counter.

"You know, with Wade always around, I haven't had much time to check up on my favorite Canadian." You tilted your head to the side.

"Don't let Canuck hear you say that," he snorted. You stuck your tongue out at him, and he rolled his eyes. You could see the corners of his mouth twitching.

"Seriously, Slim Jim," The joke earned a slight scowl from him. You grinned, knowing it annoyed him when you called him that. "You look your age today. What's wrong?"

Logan stared at you, and you could almost see the gears turning in his head. He was probably wondering how much to tell you. If anything, at all.

You were used to it by now. His reluctance to talk about what was bothering him, his unwillingness to rely on anyone. It was his default, and you understood that, but after three months of sharing an apartment with blind meth-headed Trunchbull and Scary Terry, it was getting really tiring.

Finally, he sighed. "I've been thinkin'."

"Oh no." You feigned fear. He shot you a warning glare. One of those 'try me and see what happens' glares. "About what?"

He didn't answer right away. His eyes kept glancing toward the pocket his cigar was stashed in. He was struggling not to light it.

You were about to ask again, but before you could, he finally spoke up.

"I drove past the school a few days ago. It's still standing, y'know. It looks the same as it did 15 years ago." He laughed, though it sounded empty. "Abandoned, sure. But it's there."

Yeah, clearly, Disney spent all their budget on Princess remakes. A shame, really. The mansion was a good place to have movie nights.

"And it just...hit me, I guess. Everything's gone, kid." His voice grew soft, and the expression he was wearing broke your heart. "Everyone I knew, everyone I ever cared about, is dead. All I got left is this shitty apartment, a crap truck, and annoying roommates who drive me crazy."

"To be fair, I haven't had any accidents in three months," Wade called from the living room. Honestly, you weren’t even aware he was home. It was even more of a miracle that he heard Logan. "Saving the world has improved my driving skills. Now, I only hit pedestrians."

"Shut the fuck up, Wilson," Logan barked, his claws popping out of his knuckles with a snikt. "Or I'll shove those swords up your ass and make you eat 'em."

��Slow your roll, Caesar Salad; this is a PG story. Step off with the sexual violence, at least until you have the author's consent to do so." Wade turned the corner into the kitchen, a huge bag of Taco Bell in his hand. "Besides, Vanessa wouldn’t be too happy if she found out I was cheating on her with your foot long. You know how jealous she gets. One time, I tried to-"

"Wade, please," You groaned. He looked at you, then at Logan, and nodded.

"You're right, you're right. I should respect the rating." Wade waved his hand in the air and made his way out of the room, taking a bite out of one of his tacos. "Also, the fact that I’m technically a father figure in this fic, for reasons we can't disclose here. I’d rather not turn this wholesome story into some weird-ass daddy kink porno, even though I wouldn’t mind if it were."

He turned his attention to an empty wall momentarily, a smile creeping on his face. "I have a feeling you guys wouldn't either, judging by the comments on those other ones, and honestly, I don't blame you. My body is a temple, and it should be worshiped. Just ask all those Honda Odyssey rewrites. They'd know all about that, especially the ones that end with me getting-"

"WADE," You and Logan yelled at the same time, his claws still unsheathed. Logan looked ready to jump over the counter and murder him, and while it wasn’t uncommon for Wade to be shredded like string cheese, the two of you had had enough drama to last the rest of the year.

"Ugh, fine." He threw his hands up, his tacos spilling all over the floor. "But just for the record, I totally just stole the focus of this fic. Don't let Logan fool you. He's only the main character because this is his story, but the real star of the show is moi." He pointed a finger to his chest and winked at you. You couldn't help but laugh.

"Get the fuck outta here," Logan said, his claws sliding back into his knuckles. "I swear to god, Wilson, if you ruin my day any more than you already have, I'm gonna shove you into the wood chipper."

"You have a wood chipper?" Wade raised an eyebrow, grinning. "My, oh, my. Who would have thought the lumberjack would make a reappearance?"

"Five. Four. Three. Two. One," You muttered.

"Don't push me, asshole." Logan was growling, his claws once again threatening to slice into the other man.

A normal person would have run away by now, but not Wade. You had known him long enough to understand that he thrived off of conflict. He was the most chaotic son of a bitch you had ever met, and nothing excited him more than pissing people off.

But, again, this wasn’t his story. He was just hijacking it, and the author had had enough. So, without further ado, they did the most logical thing. They made Mary Puppins appear, and suddenly, she was in his arms, and he was out of the kitchen, leaving behind the Taco Bell, his jokes, and his dignity.

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose, trying not to laugh. You managed to contain it, but just barely.

You glanced over at Logan, and he still had a look on his face like he was drained and exhausted. Of course, now annoyance and anger were mixed into the cocktail.

With your sister’s boyfriend out of the picture, he slumped down against the counter, running a hand through his hair. Not much of it, given the current length, but enough that he could pull at it.

"I'm sorry," You said. You felt a pang of sympathy for him, and you couldn't imagine the shitstorm that must be going on in his mind. After all, he wasn't like the rest of you. He was a lot older, and his life had been filled with a lot more heartache and pain than you would ever experience. "It sucks."

He didn't say anything, so you continued.

"I mean, I don't know what it's like, obviously, but I can't imagine how it must feel to lose everything like that. Everyone." You paused, thinking about your family. Your own life hadn't exactly been a picnic, but the world hadn't come crashing down around you. Not yet, at least. "I can't imagine the kind of strength you must have to go on."

He grunted, which was pretty much the Logan version of a 'Thank you.'

"I just..." His voice was quiet. "I just want something permanent. That’s not this." He motioned to the room around you, and you couldn't help but notice the look in his eyes.

"I get it."

"I don't think you do, kid," he muttered, staring at his feet.

"Hey, give me a little credit. I might not be ancient like you, but I've seen some shit. Wade is infatuated with Nessie, so I go through that bullshit every other day." You shook your head. "The two of them can be a real handful together."

"No kiddin'." He snorted.

"I mean, sure. The world went to hell, but I think it's pretty safe to say that you deserve something good after all the crap that's happened." You shrugged, looking around the room. "This is that something."

He stared at you for a long moment, and you wondered if you said something wrong. Speaking to him was always a gamble. Sometimes, he would respond, and the two of you could actually hold a conversation. Other times, he would shut down and refuse to talk, or worse, yell at you.

It seemed like luck was on your side today.

"Maybe." His eyes moved to his hands, and his gaze was distant. "It's hard to think that when I'm stuck in this hell hole."

"It's not that bad."

"You’re just saying that so Wilson doesn’t think about moving back in with your sister." He rolled his eyes. "And it is. We all know that."

"Okay, fine, you're right. The apartment is shitty, and so is the neighborhood. The landlord is a bitch, and the neighbors are loud." You took a breath, leaning closer. "But, you have us."

"Oh, don't you start."

"And you've got your truck and your liquor and the crappy TV in the living room. I say, if that isn't permanent, I don't know what is."

Logan opened his mouth, but you held a finger up.

"You might not realize it, but you have a family here." You smiled at him, and he scoffed, turning his face away from you.

"I've had families before. Doesn't work out."

"Well, we're of the more persistent kind," you teased, reaching across the counter and punching him lightly on the shoulder. "We aren't going anywhere. Especially Wade. Man is a tick that refuses to let go."

"God, I wish he would."

"He won't. You're stuck with him. You’ll be the best man at his wedding, and we both know it." You grinned, and he rolled his eyes, though the corner of his lips quirked.

"Great," he muttered.

Secretly, you knew he enjoyed the banter with Wade. He acted annoyed and irritated, but deep down, you were certain he was amused. Might be frustrated, but definitely amused.

You were about to tell him that, but he spoke first.

"Thanks, kid." He reached across the counter and squeezed your arm. "You're a pain in the ass, but you're not so bad."

"Not so bad?" You snorted. "Wow. Is that how the Wolverine slid into the hearts of millions?"

He chuckled and shook his head, a smile spreading across his face. "You know what I mean, you brat."

You stood, walking around the counter. You threw your arms around him and pulled him into a hug. He didn’t hug back for reasons that you understood. Still, you wanted him to know that you were there for him and he could rely on you.

"You know," you started. "I think a lot of people would be surprised by the softy you are under all the grumpiness."

"Yeah, well, don't go around spreadin' that." He pushed you away gently, shaking his head. "I’m not a damn teddy bear, and I'll rip your throat out if you start tellin' people."

"I’m getting the Wade treatment? A threat of death if I speak a word?" You laughed, shaking your head. "I’m honored."

"Sometimes I wonder if he is your sibling instead of your sister."

"Nah, I’m too pretty to be a Wilson." You smirked. "If anything, I'm more related to my cousin."

"The one who tried to kill you last month?"

"That's the one."

"Then you definitely are a Wilson."

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for telling off my sister about watching a kid's show?

💫 for searching!

I (15F) have an older sister, Penn (17F), who is kinda childish. Actually, she's really smart, and can be mature when she needs to be. It's just that her interests are kinda childish for someone her age.

Penn really likes cartoons and video games, and recently she's been getting into Sonic the Hedgehog. At first I thought she was just getting into the Snapcube fandubs, but out of nowhere I saw her watching one of the new Sonic TV shows, can't remember if it was Sonic Boom or Sonic Prime.

Anyways, at first, this didn't really bother me too much. She watched her show for the weekend, and I would get back to my shows for the next few weeks. But then the next weekend, she was still watching the show. When I asked Penn why, she said that she was really invested, and she hadn't actually finished the show yet. She said she was watching it in increments, because she wanted to savor the episodes, which felt stupid. The writing was obviously meant for kids, and the colors felt really bright and glaring to my eyes. I couldn't believe this was how she was unwinding, or how she could "savor" such a bad show. Plus, I prefer to watch as many episodes as possible in one go rather than in separate goes, but to each their own ig.

Next weekend comes, and guess what? Penn picks up the remote before I can get it, and says she's gonna keep watching some more. At this point, I'm pretty mad. I've been wanting to watch my shows all in one go during the weekends, but have been stuck watching one or two episodes at a time after school each day. So I snapped at her, saying, "Nooo, let's watch my things!"

Penn looked kinda hurt, and when she asked me why I said that in such an annoyed tone, I told her that the show she was watching was cringe and just plain bad. I also said that we never watched my shows anymore, only hers, and that she shouldn't be focusing on kids' media when she has college to focus on soon.

Penn got really mad at me for saying that, telling me that she just wanted to unwind now that the third quarter had ended for her school (our school years are divided into four quarters rather than 2 semesters), and that her homework load was lighter. She also said that she hardly ever uses the TV, and that I wouldn't die if she used it just once. She then left the living room in a huff and went up to her room. This was a day ago, and she hasn't spoken to me since then.

I feel like I was really a justified asshole in this. She's been hogging the TV with the Sonic show, instead of focusing on any of her advanced classes. I guess you guys can decide? It just feels like we're both getting older, and that she needs to stop focusing on such childish things. I think that if I help her get into media that's more aimed for older audiences, it'll help her get into more of a mature mindset.

[tabithatwo]

are we ready to talk about shauna's barely hidden but somehow very ignored psychosis and how it, like a ton of her other qualities, is brushed aside by both those around her and the audience? like, i think its clear that a central focus of the show is the way lottie is the only one who got stuck in a facility (and natalie in and out of rehab being the next closest to reckoning with her shit) when the rest of them are very clearly not okay. as a certified Crazy Girl, i've been weary of how they'll handle lottie's story line (blurring psychosis and the supernatural is a very delicate and tricky thing and thus far i've been sort of just waiting to see where it goes). our data on and understanding of mental health is incredibly limited for a lot of reasons (but that's a rant for another time) but there is a large mainstream misconception of when hallucinations and delusions can happen. psychosis isn't just something that happens in schizophrenia and its very complex, so if you want to learn more there's plenty of info out there i'm not going to get into it here, but it happens in a lot of other cases. psychosis is, most simply put, a loss of contact with external reality. ptsd can cause psychosis, especially auditory and visual hallucinations.

so shauna is shown to have these experiences and i didn't realize that they were being so heavily overlooked by a large amount of people until the reaction to the scene where she beats lottie nearly to death. shauna is introduced in s1 as having hallucinations of jackie 25 years later. she is shown to disassociate. in 207, she both holds the baby's body and believes the delusion that they ate the baby. the episode shows her fighting the delusion until she can't anymore. meanwhile, adult shauna tells lottie she keeps callie at arms length out of "fear that she would die...i guess? or maybe that she was never even...real to begin with." then she adds "i think something is broken, lottie." implied: she's broken. something is wrong with her. this is the is the most honest about her mental state we've ever seen shauna be.

why? because lottie has always been and likely will always be perceived as crazier. lottie is the one they pin it on, lottie is the cult leader both then and now, lottie is the scapegoat, lottie is the one who got sent to switzerland. i think there's something to be said for the effect lottie has on people (again, a whole other post) but honestly, that alone is enough. shauna is feeling vulnerable for a lot of reasons and she can tell lottie that she thinks she's crazy, that she's never quite sure her daughter exists, that she's constantly afraid she'll die to the degree that she doesn't let herself interact with her in a real, tangible way, because it's always safer to tell the crazy girl you're crazy, too.

and lottie knows. shauna knows that. lottie clocked her psychosis almost immediately, when she was in the meat shed for all hours. the other girls were shocked by the makeup, and their shock was so fucking strange to me when i watched it, but now on reflecting i'm realizing maybe its the lottie effect. like, have i done the shit shauna has? abso-fucking-lutely not lol. but does my mind work in a way where i immediately would assume shauna was doing something along the lines of the shit she was doing out there, because to me its like...what else would it be? yeah. like sees like, in a way. lottie knows what this looks like at baseline, even if its coming out way different in shauna. even if in shauna it looks like aggression and violence a lot of the time. lottie gets it.

jeff doesn't get it, he thinks strawberry lube is too wild. taissa gets it to a degree, and we see shauna be the second most open with her, but tai suppresses and hides it a degree that she wouldn't dare step foot in a therapist's office (this is yet another thing that makes me crazy but is a whole other post lol). shauna's main goal in this life she's created is pretending to be normal. and she's like, impressively bad at it. but people let her, because what else are they going to do? addressing the clear issues is taboo, because we categorize people so heavily. she masks better than lottie, but it's fucking wafer thin. you see this when she interacts with people who aren't her family or the other yjs. the way she speaks to the taylors? to adam? shauna is only sometimes masking passably when she's in her set world, where she has a routine, and is surrounded by people she only has to half-convince of her sanity.

if shauna is honest about the level of psychosis she experiences, she knows she'll end up like lottie. and i think there's an argument to be made that the people around her (which at this point in her life is pretty much just jeff because she's done another common thing and insulated herself from other people, re: the way she behaves being clockably off to others who won't overlook certain things or can't relate) understand that too. it can't be addressed, because then in their minds there must be action of some kind if it is. (taissa yelling you're acting crazy, shauna is one of the most purely terrified moments we see of her in relation to shauna, because she knows she's admitting something. jeff yelling something to the same effect after the carjacking, same thing.)

the person we see try to get shauna to open up about it is callie. her teenage daughter, who bares the brunt of her difficulty maintaining reality, (who knows that shauna has never accepted her fully as her child, and seems to actually sense that there is a deeper reason for that), asks her to open up. she tells her after the club scene that she knows something is wrong. she even mentions jackie directly. she spends all of s2 trying to relate to shauna, to get her to be open with her about everything. there's no way shauna's trauma and psychosis and general issues have gone unnoticed by callie. daughters always know. they see it in their mothers before they even have a concept of the world. so we're watching a 16 year old try to get her mom to open up, because she doesn't understand fully why that's so dangerous to shauna. to callie, it may even be a secret she thinks other people are in on that she's being left out of. i think maybe she's realizing that it isn't personal and that shauna is guarded like this in general, and we're watching that happen.

callie is learning to care for and relate to her mother and she doesn't see why shauna won't let her in, because to her it's an innate truth that she'll be by her side no matter what (if only she'd let her be). she has unconditional love for her mother and that is the scariest thing in the world to shauna, because the last person who had unconditional love for shauna died because shauna didn't know what to do with it. a baby she never got a chance to meet in reality could've replaced the love that jackie gave her, and shauna was maybe starting to look forward to that, but that ended before it began. so twice shauna has killed that figure in her life. the one who loves her wholly and for who she is, which is terrifying to shauna in it's own right (she tried to take that away from jackie in their last moments, maybe you never really knew me, because that would be easier. shauna can't handle someone really knowing her because she can't handle really knowing herself because, again, that means addressing things that go unaddressed). and she doesn't plan on killing that figure again.

(if callie's even real, because the baby wasn't real when she met him and jackie wasn't real every time she's talked to her in the last twenty-five years, so who the fuck is to say callie is real?)