#they were still challenging gyms and things on the side

[diekleinesuesse]

Being best friends with Changbin:

Being best friends with Changbin would be an absolute rollercoaster of fun, chaos, and deep emotional support. From the outside, people might assume that he’s just the tough, confident rapper with a powerful stage presence, but as his best friend, you’d know the real Seo Changbin the softhearted, hilarious, and endlessly caring person behind the music

Endless Roasting Sessions & Playful Banter

One of the biggest parts of being best friends with Changbin would be the constant banter. He’s known for his quick wit and playful teasing, so expect to be roasted on a daily basis. But don’t worry it’s all out of love. Whether it’s making fun of your outfit, calling you “short” (even if you’re taller than him), or mocking your pronunciation of certain words, he’d always find a way to keep things entertaining.

Of course, you’d have to give it right back. Changbin loves when people match his energy, so if you clap back with an equally sassy remark, he’d just laugh and high-five you. The banter never crosses the line into anything mean he’d never want to hurt your feelings. Instead, it would be a constant game of who can come up with the funniest insult or the most dramatic reaction.

Gym buddies for live

Changbin is known for being one of the most dedicated gym-goers in Stray Kids. If you were his best friend, he would absolutely try to drag you to the gym with him. Even if you weren’t into working out, he’d encourage you to at least try it “Just come with me once! I promise you’ll feel amazing afterward!” (Spoiler: you might be sore for days.)

If you actually enjoyed the gym, you’d be his ultimate workout partner. He’d hype you up constantly “LET’S GO! YOU GOT THIS! LOOK AT THOSE GAINS!” and probably challenge you to random competitions like “Who can hold a plank the longest?” (He’d win, but you’d pretend you let him win.)

If you weren’t a fan of the gym at all, he wouldn’t force you, but he’d still send you random gym selfies with captions like “Guess who’s getting stronger while you’re still in bed?” just to mess with you.

Late-Night Deep Talks

Despite his energetic personality, Changbin is actually very sentimental and introspective. As his best friend, you’d get to see that side of him a lot. He’d be the kind of person who randomly texts you at 2 AM like, “Hey, do you ever wonder what life would be like if we made different choices?”

Whenever one of you was feeling down, he’d be the first to check in. He’d insist on meeting up whether it was going for a drive, grabbing late-night food, or just sitting on a park bench talking about life. He’s the type to listen carefully and give thoughtful advice, but he’s also really good at making you laugh even in your worst moments.

Likewise, he’d trust you enough to open up about his struggles too. He might joke around all the time, but he carries a lot of responsibility and pressure. As his best friend, you’d be one of the few people he could truly be vulnerable with.

Studio Hangouts & Exclusive Song Previews

Being best friends with Changbin means spending a LOT of time in the studio. He’s constantly working on new music, and he’d definitely invite you to hang out while he writes, produces, and records. He’d play you unreleased tracks and ask for your opinion “Be honest. Does this verse sound good, or should I change it?”

If you had any musical skills (singing, rapping, writing lyrics, etc.), he’d absolutely hype you up and encourage you to join in. Even if you didn’t, he’d still make you feel involved, maybe by letting you mess around with the soundboard or teaching you how to mix a track.

And of course, there would be plenty of silly moments too freestyle rap battles, making weird beats just for fun, and singing the most random things dramatically just to make each other laugh.

Food Adventures & Late-Night Snacks

Changbin LOVES food, so a big part of your friendship would revolve around eating. Whether it’s trying new restaurants, ordering way too much takeout, or late-night convenience store runs, he’d always be down for a food adventure.

He’d probably make fun of your food choices (“Ew, why would you put that on your pizza?”) but still end up stealing bites from your plate. If you ever cooked something for him, he’d dramatically rate it “This is a 10/10 meal. You should open a restaurant.”

And if you both stayed up late (which would happen often), you’d raid the kitchen together and eat snacks while watching random YouTube videos or talking about life.

Protective Big Brother Energy

Even if you were older than him, Changbin would still act like your protective big brother. If anyone upset you, he’d be the first to step up “Who do I need to fight?” (half-joking but also kind of serious).

If you were feeling anxious or insecure, he’d be the first to hype you up “Are you kidding? You’re amazing. They just don’t have good taste.”

And if you ever got lost in a crowded place or had trouble with something, he’d go full Problem Solver Mode, making sure you were okay.

The Ultimate Concert Hype Man

If you ever went to a Stray Kids concert, Changbin would go out of his way to make sure you had the best experience. Even if you were in the audience, he’d find a way to acknowledge youpointing at you, making silly faces, or hyping you up from the stage.

After the show, he’d text you something like, “Did you see how cool I looked? Be honest.”

If you were backstage, he’d be even more dramatic running up to you after the performance like, “DID YOU SEE THAT?! I KILLED IT, RIGHT?” and expecting you to shower him with compliments.

Nonstop Laughter & Unforgettable Memories

At the end of the day, being best friends with Changbin would mean never having a dull moment. He’s funny without even trying, and his energy is contagious. Whether it’s laughing until your stomach hurts, making up weird inside jokes, or having completely ridiculous conversations, he’d always make sure you were having fun.

But more than that, he’d be the kind of friend who sticks with you through everything the good, the bad, and the chaotic. He’d be your biggest supporter, your partner in crime, and your safe place all in one.

Being best friends with Changbin wouldn’t just mean having fun it would mean having someone who genuinely cares, who listens, who hypes you up, and who always, always has your back.

[mondo-tastic]

Do they match eachothers freak

[lovhrin]

𝜗𝜚   ॱ˖ 𝐴 𝐵𝑜𝑦 𝑊ℎ𝑜’𝑠 𝐽𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐾𝑖𝑛𝑑

──ॱ˖ ❀ sunghoon being your jacked and kind bf . genre fluff. warnings nothing just cuteness, based on the tiktok trend header made by @plutism| park sunghoon x fem!reader.

you couldn’t help but smile as you scrolled through videos of couples on slim pickins’ sound. one after another, boyfriends effortlessly hoisted their girlfriends onto their shoulders, some successful and some… not. the laughter and joy in each clip filled you with a warm feeling.

lowering your phone, your gaze drifted to your boyfriend, who was focused on the tv. he had come back from the gym about an hour ago. the thought reminded you to glance at his arms, the idea of him trying the challenge travels through your mind, bringing a small grin to your lips.

you were almost certain that he could do it, the only problem was convincing him.

you and probably anyone who knew sunghoon wasn’t one to set up a camera and film a dumb trend for the whole world to see, still, it couldn’t hurt to try, right?

“hoon,” you scooted closer to him on the couch, leaning into his side. without missing a beat, he wrapped his arm around you, his eyes still fixed on the tv.

“hm?” he hummed.

you held up your phone. “look at this.”

he glanced down at the screen, watching the video play for a moment before lifting his eyes to you. “what about it?”

you gave him a smile, “wanna try something?”

he let out a deep sigh. “yn…”

you quickly sat up, cutting him off. “just hear me out for a second! wouldn’t it be fun to see if you could lift me up?”

he squinted at you. “I lift you up all the ti—”

“but not like that!” you whined, leaning closer. “come on, bro.”

his expression twisted in disbelief. “did you just call me bro? what the fu—”

“you know what? never mind.” you cut him off, opening your phone and slouching back into the couch. “you probably couldn’t even do it anyway,” you added casually, a secret smile tugging at your lips. you knew that one sentence would be all it took to set him off.

before you knew it, sunghoon was off the couch, standing in front of you and patting your thigh. “come on,” he sighed, extending his hand toward you..

“really?” you asked with a grin, slipping your hand into his as he nodded and pulled you up.

now standing in front of his taller frame, you watched as he took your phone from your hand. “this is it? I just pick you up? that’s the thing you think I can’t do?”

“yep,” you replied, your bright smile practically glowing. it was the kind of smile that made sunghoon want to strangle you and kiss you at the same time.

he let out a soft scoff and handed the phone back to you. “go set it up,” he said, motioning toward the corner of the room.

with a grin, you moved to set up the video and start the timer, while sunghoon stood there, you turned back to him, biting back a laugh as you started teasing. “are your muscles gonna hurt? don’t strain yourself, okay? we don’t need you pulling anything just to prove me wrong.”

he gave you a flat look, but you could see the challenge in his eyes. “you done yet?”

“just trying to look out for you,” you replied sweetly walking over to stand in front of him, making him roll his eyes.

as soon as the timer beeped, sunghoon effortlessly placed his two large hands around your waist, his long fingers nearly meeting at the small of your back.

“wait—” you started, but before you could finish, he smoothly lifted you up and perched you on his single shoulder like you weighed nothing.

you squealed, clinging to him instinctively as the room spun for a moment. “sunghoon!”

he chuckled, holding you steady for a moment before gently lowering you back to the ground. he crossed his arms, a smug smirk on his face as he looked down at you.

“you were saying?”

he was indeed jacked and kind.

[chxnsgirl]

창빈 ─── let me take care of you

♡ pairing ៸៸ gym trainer!changbin x afab!reader genre ៸៸ angst, fluff, smut ៸៸ cw ៸៸ vanilla , praise kink (if u really really squint), oral (f. rec) , shower sex , there's also a link hidden in the fic c; ♡ synopsis ៸៸ literally no plot just smut a/n ๑ here's a lil bini fic since someone requested this ! [ 3.2k words ] ♡ masterlist

smut below the cut - minors gtfo.

another day, another gym session.

except this wasn’t just any gym session—it was with changbin, your personal trainer, and quite possibly the most attractive man you’d ever met. you first crossed paths a few months ago when you decided it was time to pull yourself out of the post-breakup slump and hit the gym again. changbin had been scanning for potential clients when he noticed you, and from that moment, your fitness journey took an unexpected turn.

from the start, you found him absolutely captivating. his physique was the stuff of admiration—a flawlessly sculpted body that practically exuded strength and confidence. but it wasn’t just his physique; his face was just as alluring. full lips, a radiant smile that seemed to light up the room—it all worked together to make your heart skip a beat.

still, it was more than just his looks that drew you in. changbin’s kindness and patience stood out. he truly understood the challenges you faced, encouraging you every step of the way with unwavering support. and given your single status and lack of intimate company for months, he was the only person who had come to know your body as well as you did—albeit in a very different way.

but lately, things had begun to shift. each training session seemed to carry a weight that went beyond fitness. the tension between you had been growing steadily, layer by layer. subtle touches lingered a second too long. his warm, tender smiles felt more personal. and the compliments—sweet, sincere, and unexpectedly intimate—hung in the air like a charged whisper, leaving you wondering where this might lead.

you had just wrapped up a grueling workout and were now easing into your stretches with changbin by your side. today’s session had been particularly intense, focusing heavily on lifting, and you’d pushed yourself harder than ever. the ache in your muscles was proof of your effort, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. clearly, changbin was proud of you too.

“you did great today,” he praised, his voice warm and encouraging.

he knelt beside you, helping guide your leg toward your abdomen as you stretched. his touch was firm but careful, his movements precise, yet you could sense the restraint in him. his eyes flicked to your form briefly, but he quickly refocused, clearly trying to remain professional. it wasn’t easy, though, considering the snug spandex leggings that clung to every curve of your lower half and the sports bra that, while functional, accentuated your breasts, which were pressed against the fabric with every deep inhale you took.

“thanks,” you replied breathlessly, switching to your other leg. changbin shifted to adjust his position, his pelvis hovering just above your ass as you lay flat on the mat. the closeness of his body, combined with the strength in his arms as he pressed your leg toward your torso, sent a wave of heat surging through you.

it settled deep in your core, and you fought to push the feeling away. determined not to let your thoughts spiral, you turned your head and focused your gaze anywhere but on him, desperately trying to ignore the way his touch and attention was making you feel.

as changbin adjusted his position, his touch lingered just a little longer than necessary. his hands were warm and strong, holding your leg securely as he leaned in to guide your stretch. you could feel the tension in the air thickening, subtle but undeniable. the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the musk of your workout, making your senses hyperaware of his proximity.

“relax into it,” changbin murmured, his voice softer now, almost coaxing. his breath brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine despite the heat coursing through you.

you exhaled slowly, trying to follow his instruction, but the pressure of his hands and the way his body was aligned with yours made it difficult to focus. as your muscles stretched and lengthened under his guidance, your thoughts began to wander to places they shouldn’t.

his hands moved slightly, adjusting the angle of your leg. the contact was innocent enough, yet it sent a spark straight to your core. his thumbs pressed gently into your thigh, massaging the tension there, and you couldn’t suppress the faint hum that escaped your lips.

“you okay?” he asked, his tone low and careful, though there was a hint of something else in it—a slight rasp that betrayed his own composure.

“y-yeah,” you managed to reply, your voice unsteady.

but changbin didn’t move away. instead, his gaze flickered down to you, his dark eyes studying your face. “you’re holding tension here,” he said, his hands sliding down slightly to work at the tight muscles in your hips. the motion was slow, deliberate, and his fingers pressed firmly yet gently, igniting a slow burn deep within you.

your breath hitched, and you couldn’t help but glance up at him. his face was so close now, his lips parted slightly as though he was about to say something more. but no words came. instead, the moment seemed to stretch endlessly between you, the space between your bodies almost nonexistent.

you could feel the heat radiating from him, the firmness of his hands, the way his body hovered just above yours. and then, as though caught in some invisible pull, your eyes locked. the air crackled with unspoken desire, and suddenly, all the restraint from earlier seemed to crumble.

changbin’s hands stilled against your body, and you felt his grip tighten slightly, as if grounding himself. his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, and he glanced away for a moment, exhaling deeply. “i-i don’t… we shouldn’t…” he began, his voice low and uneven, though it lacked conviction.

you reached out instinctively, your fingers brushing lightly against his arm. “it’s okay,” you whispered, your voice soft but steady. you leaned up slightly, your body arching toward him, driven by a pull you could no longer resist. “i don’t mind, if you don’t.”

and in an instant, you two were in the back of the gym, messily making out inside the employee showers. you had the curtain covering you both as you kissed each other, as well as the water running so nobody could hear the sinful noises of you two claiming each other.

the water was cascading down both of your bodies, getting your workout attire drenched. changbin let out a moan as he pressed you against the tile wall, grinding his length against your thigh.

you eagerly tugged his shirt off, wanting to see more of him.

in the haze of passion, your hands trembled slightly as you pulled changbin’s drenched shirt over his head, tossing it onto the wet floor without a second thought. the sight of his bare torso under the dim, steamy light took your breath away—every muscle, every defined line glistening under the cascade of water.

your hands roamed his chest, fingers tracing his abdomen before sliding up to his broad shoulders. his skin was warm beneath your touch, and he shuddered as your nails lightly grazed him.

“god, you’re so beautiful,” you murmured, your voice breathy and full of awe.

changbin’s lips found yours again, this time more urgent, more fervent. his hands gripped your waist firmly, pulling your soaked body flush against his. you gasped into his mouth as the rough texture of the tile wall contrasted with the heat of his touch. his hips pressed into you, and the friction sent waves of pleasure coursing through your core.

he broke the kiss momentarily, his forehead resting against yours as his hands slid up, fingers brushing over the fabric of your sports bra. “are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice husky but tinged with care.

you cupped his face, your thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “i’ve never been more sure,” you whispered, pulling him back into a searing kiss.

his hands moved with purpose, tugging at the hem of your sports bra. you raised your arms, helping him remove it, and the cool air of the shower hit your exposed skin before the warmth of his hands replaced it. his palms cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened peaks, drawing a gasp from your lips.

the steam swirled around you both, cloaking the scene in a veil of intimacy as changbin’s lips left a trail of kisses down your neck and collarbone. the sound of water hitting the tiles mingled with your quiet moans and his deep groans, creating a symphony of passion that seemed to echo in the small space.

your fingers fumbled with the waistband of his shorts, eager to feel more of him. he let out a shaky breath as you pushed them down, your touch exploring the contours of his hips and thighs. you could see the outline of his thick, hard cock through his briefs, and your core ached so intensely you could feel a heartbeat between your legs.

the tension that had built between you for weeks was now unraveling, every kiss, every touch, bringing you closer to a point of no return.

changbin’s hands slid down to your hips, gripping them firmly as he pressed against you. his breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this.”

you smiled against his lips, your fingers threading through his damp hair. “then show me,” you whispered, and with that, he captured your mouth again, his fingers curling under your leggings and yanking them down as well as your panties without hesitation.

you blushed, feeling bare and exposed in front of him. it had been a long time since you had been bare before a man, and changbin could sense your anxiety. “you look fucking gorgeous,” he growled, yanking them off your legs fully before kneeling in front of you and lifting one of your legs over his shoulder. you responded with a tiny gasp, realizing what he was preparing to do. changbin's dark eyes locked with yours as he knelt before you, the water cascading over his sculpted frame. his hands slid up your thighs, strong yet gentle, as if reassuring you of how much he wanted this—wanted you. the heat of his breath contrasted with the cool tile against your back, and the intensity of his gaze sent shivers down your spine.

“you don’t have to be nervous,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing but laced with hunger. “let me take care of you.”

before you could respond, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. the sensation was electric, a mix of tenderness and desire that left you trembling. his lips moved slowly, trailing upward, each kiss stoking the fire coursing through your body.

when his mouth finally reached your core, your breath hitched. his tongue was warm and deliberate, exploring you with a confidence that left no doubt he knew exactly how to drive you wild. your hand flew to his hair, gripping the wet strands as your head fell back against the wall, a soft moan escaping your lips.

he moaned against your cunt, his tongue swirling and flicking over your sensitive flesh with relentless determination. the wet sounds of his mouth on your skin were just barely audible, driving you to new heights of pleasure. he savored every inch of you, the scent and taste that he had craved for so long.

a sharp cry escaped your lips as he wrapped his lips around your clit, suckling and lapping at it with fervent desire. his face was buried between your thighs, his breath hot against your skin as he devoured you without restraint. your body arched and quivered under his skilled touch, each wave of pleasure building higher and higher until it consumed you completely.

“bin…” you whimpered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the running water.

he growled in response, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through you. his grip on your leg tightened as he pulled you closer, his mouth working you with an intensity that made your toes curl. the sensations were overwhelming, the combination of his touch, the warmth of the water, and the way his tongue moved against you unraveling you completely.

your free hand pressed against the tile, trying to steady yourself, but it was no use. the tension building in your core was too much, too fast. “oh my god,” you gasped, your voice breaking as his name tumbled from your lips like a prayer.

changbin glanced up at you briefly, his eyes smoldering with desire as he watched you come undone above him. his lips curved into a small, cocky smile before he doubled down, his tongue and lips moving with a precision that left you breathless.

your body arched involuntarily, the sensations overwhelming as the pleasure built to a crescendo. your grip on his hair tightened, and with one final, broken cry of his name, the tension snapped, waves of ecstasy crashing over you. your legs trembled, and the one leg you were using to keep yourself standing in the shower was barely holding you upright.

as you came down from the high, your chest heaved, and your legs trembled. changbin stood slowly, his hands steadying you as he cupped your face and kissed you deeply, letting you taste the passion you’d just shared.

“you taste so fucking good,” he whispered against your lips, his voice rough and breathless, as if he’d been just as affected by the moment as you were. you two made out again, lost in the shared taste of each other, until you broke it. “fuck me,” you panted, your voice soft and breathy.

“please, fuck me.”

changbin’s breath hitched at your words, his hands gripping your hips tighter as if grounding himself. he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes burning with desire yet softened by a hint of hesitation. “you want it?” he murmured, his voice low and rough, barely audible over the water.

you nodded, your lips brushing against his as you whispered, “please, changbin.”

something in him shifted, the tension and restraint he’d been holding onto dissolving. his lips captured yours again, this time with a hunger that left no room for doubt. his kiss was fervent, his tongue sliding against yours as his hands roamed your body, every touch igniting a new wave of heat.

with a slow, deliberate motion, he freed his thick, pulsating cock from its confines. it was girthy and heavy, throbbing with an almost painful urgency that sent shivers down your spine. just looking at it made you nervous for what was to come, but also filled you with a primal desire you couldn't deny. the veins along its length were prominent and promising. you could feel the heat radiating off of it, making your own body flush with anticipation.

with a fluid motion, he lifted you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he pressed you against the tiled wall. the water cascaded over both of you, amplifying the intensity of every sensation. you could feel him, hard and ready, pressing against your core, and the anticipation made you gasp.

his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a heated path of kisses as his hands gripped your thighs to steady you. “you’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his voice dripping with reverence and need.

“bin…” you whispered, your fingers threading through his wet hair, tugging lightly as your hips rolled against him, seeking more.

he groaned at the friction of his cock grinding between your slick lips, the sound deep and guttural, as he adjusted his position.

one hand slipped between you, and you shivered as his fingers teased your entrance, his touch deliberate and confident. “i need to feel you,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

“then do it,” you urged, your voice trembling with need. “i’m yours.”

his gaze locked with yours for a fleeting moment, the intensity in his eyes sending a fresh wave of heat through your body. slowly, he entered you, the stretch and fullness drawing a gasp from your lips as your nails dug into his shoulders.

his thick length filled every inch of you as he pushed deeper and deeper. the weight of him pressed against your skin, the sensation almost overwhelming but also intoxicating. his fat cock stretched you to your limits, each movement sending electrifying sensations coursing through your body. you could feel every ridge and vein as he plunged into you, claiming you completely.

“fuck,” he groaned, his forehead pressing against yours as he stilled, giving you a moment to adjust.“you feel incredible.” he moaned breathlessly, his brows knitted together as he fought the urge to cum right away.

“so do you,” you breathed, pressing a kiss to his lips before rolling your hips against him. the movement sent a shiver through him, and he began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, building in intensity.

lost in the moment and completely overtaken by his desire, changbin's grip on your hips tightened as he began to lift you effortlessly, moving your body up and down on his cock with a strength that made you feel weightless. his motions were powerful and unrelenting, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body as if he was claiming every inch of you.

the sounds echoing in the steamy shower were shamelessly erotic—your bodies colliding with wet, rhythmic slaps, punctuated by the increasingly loud moans spilling from your lips. it was such a stark contrast to the tentative quiet you’d both maintained when you first slipped into the shower, and yet now, the tension between you had unraveled into something raw and untamed.

you couldn’t help but glance down at him, the sight alone making your head spin. the way his strong arms supported you, his muscles flexing with each movement, and the determined, almost primal look on his face as he drove into you—it was intoxicating. the intensity of it all made your walls flutter around him involuntarily, earning a deep groan from his lips that only fueled your desire further.

your back arched against the tiles, the sensation overwhelming as waves of pleasure coursed through you.

your body tensed as his cock repeatedly hit your g-spot with relentless force, causing a deep pit to form in your stomach and your clit to pulse uncontrollably. the pleasure was overwhelming, almost bordering on pain, but you couldn’t help but crave more of his intense thrusts. after a few more thrusts, you were trembling, your core fluttering with impending release.

“changbin… i’m so close,” you gasped, your voice breaking as the tension in your body built to its peak.

“me too,” he rasped, his lips brushing against yours as his movements grew faster, more erratic.

with one final thrust, the tension snapped, and you cried out his name as the pleasure consumed you, your body trembling in his arms. he followed moments later, his groan vibrating against your neck as he held you tightly, riding the waves of ecstasy together.

the water continued to cascade over you both as you clung to each other, your breaths mingling in the steamy air. changbin pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his voice warm and tender as he whispered, “i’ve waited so long for this,”

you smiled, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw as you replied, “so have i.” and as the water continued to fall around you, you knew this was for sure the start of something between you two.

tags: @ritsmith @bluesungology @jeonginsleftcheek

©chxnsgirl do not repost, translate, or copy my works in any way, shape, or form.

[lovebugism]

“don’t you dare touch him” eddie x shy!reader

idk i need a situation where reader never really speaks up but she finally does when it comes to eddie because she loves him sm😭

thanks so much for your request! hope you like it!! — the one where eddie melts when his quiet gf sticks up for him in front of jason (shy!reader, fluff, 2.4k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

The drive from Forest Hills to the arcade is spent with Lucas and Dustin bickering in the backseat and Eddie’s hand on your thigh.

“It’s been two years, and you still can’t beat my high score, Dusty Bun,” the former boy taunts. The nickname spills like venom from his smiling face. “Just give it up, okay? It’s not happening.”

Dustin grins back at him. It’s more so mischievous than it is taunting. His deep blue eyes narrow in a challenging squint. “You are so gonna be eating your words by the end of the night. When we leave, Princess Daphne is gonna be mine, alright? For good.”

Their arguing becomes background noise. With your cheek lolled against the hand you’ve got propped against the window, you’re pulled into the wispy lilac cloud your gaze is so heavily fixated upon. The sky billows lavender against a sea of pink and golden orange — a summer sunset so vivid you can taste it.

The only thing keeping you grounded is Eddie’s palm on your knee, wide and warm and all-consuming. His thumb rubs against your skin so softly you think it must be absentminded. It feels like static shock, anyway. He laughs quietly to himself, and his fingers tremble gently against you. This time they squeeze you with a newfound intention as he brings you back to him.

“What do you think, babe?” Eddie asks, pink mouth spread in a pearly white grin. His chocolate eyes glimmer with the golden hour sun as his gaze flits between yours and the road. “Think Dusty Bun has a chance here?”

You nod, scrunched nose and squinted eyes, silent in your support for the curly-headed boy who’s still yelling over Lucas in the back of the van.

“What about me?” he presses. And because he knows better than to give his quiet girl anything other than a yes or no answer, he follows quickly, “You think today’s the day I finally beat your Space Invaders high score?”

A beat passes. The momentary silence is filled with arguing boys, old tires on older asphalt, and Ozzy Osbourne’s “Crazy Train” spilling softly from the radio. A quiet smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. You purse the mischievous expression to the side as you turn away from him again.

Your non-answer makes him laugh. It sounds exactly like the colors of the sunset.

His beat-up van jerks when he puts it into park. The door on the side squeaks as the kids file out of it. Eddie’s does too, but you can’t hear it over him telling you to “sit tight.” 

You wait patiently in the passenger seat like you always do, smiling to yourself as the boy rushes around the hood to open the door for you. The hinges screech in protest. His wild curls billow in the wind as he smiles. “C’mon, sunshine. Our palace awaits.”

The group of you stand beneath the spinning neon sign he parked next to — glowing orange and white beneath a setting sun. Someone calls from across the parking lot, “Well, well, well. Look who it is.”

Your heads snap in the direction of the painfully familiar voice. 

Jason and the rest of his abnormally tall goons stand outside the new gym that just opened on the strip. The dark, vacant building wedged between The Palace and Family Video was no longer as scary as it used to be now that it was occupied. You were just hoping it’d be something more exciting. Forcing arcade nerds and gym bros into one spot feels like a crime.

“And they brought little miss wallflower, too,” Jason lilts with his pretty smile and straight teeth. His blonde hair is a darker shade of brown, damp with half-dried sweat. His lean form is unnaturally built underneath his white tank top and basketball shorts. 

It isn’t any wonder why he turned out to be such a raging douchebag. 

Someone so perfect needed at least one flaw.

“The gang’s all here, huh?” one of his other friends — Andy, you think — concurs from behind him, always in the boy’s shadow.

“Like what you see, fellas?” Eddie calls out from across the slab of pavement separating the group of you. He’ll never turn down an opportunity to take the piss out of the so-called jocks, all muscle and no brain. 

“What do we do when those assholes give us hell?” he’d often ask when you’ve had a particularly shitty day with them. “We give ‘em hell right back.”

Jason’s thin lips curl into a more mischievous smirk. His blue eyes are lighter in the golden sunlight, and they twinkle beneath the neon signs as he looks you up and down. “Yeah, actually,” he hums with his unabashed ogling. “I do.”

Mike’s lanky legs sidestep to stand ahead of you. He does it so swiftly, so instinctually, you don’t think he even really meant to do it. Despite the raven-haired boy halfway covering you, you cross your arms over your torso in a further attempt to keep yourself hidden. 

You feel so suddenly exposed in your frilly floral sundress — especially considering the only thing you wear to school is baggy jeans and baggier sweaters. You feel like you might as well be naked standing in front of them just now.

The younger boys stand on high alert as Eddie walks the short distance to Jason. The brief journey is made quicker when the blonde boy strides to meet him halfway. It’s a high school sort of standoff — neither particularly wanting to get physical because the real-life repercussions aren’t worth it. They just want to see who can piss each other off the most.

“She is pretty, isn’t she?” Eddie concedes with a grin, flashing you a brief glance over his shoulder. He turns away quickly at the sight of your wide, pleading eyes. He scrunches his nose in feigned sympathy. “I bet you’re real jealous, huh? Especially now that you’ve got nothing but your right hand keeping you company ever since Chrissy dumped your ass.”

“Watch it,” Jason warns through gritted teeth.

“I think I saw her riding around last week with Harrington, actually.”

The blonde boy’s sneakers scuff against the concrete as he takes a daring step closer. His piercing stare never wavers. “Don’t talk about Chrissy.”

“Don’t talk about my girl, and I won’t talk about yours,” Eddie retorts in lilt. And then, because he can’t help but twist the knife, he tilts his head to his shoulder and continues. “Well, I guess she’s not really yours anymore, is she?”

“I said don’t talk about Chrissy!” Jason repeats, louder than before, when he lets his anger get the best of him. One hand shoots up to shove at Eddie’s chest, using only enough force to make the boy stumble slightly back. 

While Dustin, Lucas, and Mike gear up for a fight, Eddie only laughs in response — big, boisterous, and boyish.

You don’t even realize you’re stepping in front of the group until you’re already doing it. The words seem to fly from your mouth without you even thinking about them. “Don’t touch him!” you shout. 

And even though it wasn’t particularly loud, it quiets in the mindless bickering all at once. Everyone turns to gape at you — Jason, Andy, Dustin, Eddie. Everyone is equally surprised by your outburst. Because you don’t speak. Ever. At least, not if you can help it. 

And it’s not because you don’t have anything to say, because you do. It’s just that your brain works too much, and your mouth can’t keep up with it sometimes. It’s easier just to be silent.

That’s what you’ve been known for ever since you were little. You went through all of it — the bullying, the sad eyes, the talks with teachers, the ‘is everything alright at home’s. Everything was fine, for the most part. Your childhood was equally as middling as everyone else’s. You just had a harder time being human than most people.

Jason smiles again, amused by your warning. “What was that, sweetheart?”

You swallow through a tightening throat. Your sweaty hands clench into balls at your sides. The words come out quieter than before, but no less meaningful. “I said… Don’t touch him.”

“Oh, so she does speak. Here I thought no one ever taught you how to,” the blonde boy laughs. You feel disgusting when his attention settles solely upon you. The lingering sick feeling is eclipsed by your gratitude that Eddie’s no longer in his line of fire. “I’m gonna be honest… I thought you were cuter when you were quiet.”

You don’t know what he means by that. You can’t tell if he’s being genuine, or if he thinks you care enough about what he thinks to slink back into your shell.

“Leave Eddie alone,” you retort drily.

He snorts. “Yeah? Or what?”

There’s a thousand words you want to say. You open your mouth to spit all of them at the boy across from you, but nothing comes out.

“Yeah,” Jason laughs at your silence. “That’s what I thought.”

You stand your ground when he walks towards you. His strides are slow and menacing, like he’s expecting you to back away. You might’ve if you were anywhere else — if Eddie wasn’t a couple feet away and the rest of your friends weren’t crowding behind you. You’re made somehow braver by their presence.

“This is a really cute dress, though, sweetheart,” the blonde boy compliments with a thin smirk. “You should dress like this more often. You know what? You’d really fit in at the strip club downtown— what’s it called?”

“Pink Paradise,” Andy answers without missing a beat.

Jason smacks his lips against his teeth. “That’s the one.”

“Is that the one your mom works at?” you wonder with your arms crossed over your chest. Your head tilts to your shoulder as you squint at him. “Is she still giving those two-for-one discounts?” 

Jason’s confidence stutters at your biting reply — even more so by the choked-back laughter accompanying it. Your boys don’t bother to hide their humored giggles, though the basketball team covers theirs by coughing into their fists.

“Ooh. I didn’t know you had such a much on you,” the blonde lilts as his blue eyes narrow. “I’m like… fifty percent more attracted to you now.”

“Leave Eddie alone,” you deadpan once more. “And go be a douchebag somewhere else.”

One of his friends breaks free from the pack. He’s tall, thin, and toned. He’s got the same haircut as Lucas: compact curls, squared off on the sides. You know him — Patrick McKinney. He’s the only one of Jason’s friends that was actually nice to you. Or, at the very least, he wasn’t a total asshole.

“Let’s go, man,” the boy ushers, nudging at Jason’s bicep. “Let’s go shoot some hoops or something. This isn’t worth it.”

You scoff out a laugh. “Oh, please— the only shooting Jason Carver does is into a kleenex. It’s why you were benched all last season.”

“I twisted my ankle!” the blonde boy defends, sounding weak and pathetic beneath the chorus of laughter as Patrick drags him away.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you mutter, perhaps too quiet for him to hear, as Lucas pulls at your forearm to guide you in the other direction. His touch is still gentle — it would be uncharacteristic of him to be rough with you. It would also be a terrible idea with Eddie just a few paces behind the both of you.

The walk to The Palace is a silent one. There’s too much to say, and everyone’s just a little too amazed to say it. Eddie, however, never had a hard time killing a quiet. He rushes on long legs to match your quick strides, reaching you rather easily. 

“Hey, hey, hey— you okay, babe?” the worried boy wonders. He takes a gentle hold of your wrists when you reach the awning beneath the arcade. His chocolate gaze flits attentively over your form, nowhere near as leering as Jason had been. 

He can tell by your heaving chest and glassy eyes that you’re a little overwhelmed. When he takes your face in his hands, he finds that your cheeks are burning, too.

You nod into his warm palms in silent reply, back in the comfort of your shell all over again.

“What’d you do that for, huh?” Eddie singsongs with a quiet laugh. His thumb dances over your cheekbones as he grins at you. “You know I don’t like you getting involved with those assholes.”

“They don’t get to talk to you like that… Or put their hands on you,” you mutter. Despite your soft tone, Eddie can see the fury flashing in your eyes, getting angry about it all over again.

His smile widens — proud and hopelessly in love with you. “No. They don’t. Especially not with my girl around, huh?”

“Nope,” you murmur, popping the p. A sheepish grin pulls at your mouth, equally as proud and in love.

Eddie leans down to kiss you, guiding your mouth to his with the hands cupping your jaw. It’s innocuously chaste, being that you’re still standing in a public parking lot. You could never quite stomach the attention of PDA, anyway. His pink lips lock with yours in a fleeting peck, and his arms wrap around you a second later.

He smothers you into his chest, and you revel in every second of it. He smells like cigarette smoke and the cologne he tried to cover it up with. He smells like a home you could live in forever. 

You smile into the thrifted Blondie tee you got him — which he happily accepted because he loves you (even though he hates Blondie). He presses a kiss into your hair and smushes his nose into the crown of it as he laughs.

“‘Is that the one your mom works at?’” Eddie repeats with a soft chuckle, chest swelling with pride once more. “God, babe. That’s good.”

“Shut up…” you murmur.

“I’m serious! I didn’t know you were such a good smack-talker! I think you might be a genius, actually.”

“Don’t,” you grouse with a lighthearted scowl. You pull away from him only slightly — enough for him to put your face back in his hands again. You feel safest there, even if you are pouting up at him.

“You’re so cute,” the boy muses with a beam. His eyes glimmer like a sea of chocolate syrup, melting with all the love he has for you. “You’re like a cinnamon roll. A cinnamon roll that could bite people.”

“That’s exactly what I am,” you monotone and try your best not to smile.

Eddie couldn’t hide his grin if he tried. “And that’s exactly why I love you.”

[sam24]

Man on a Mission

Summary: Apparently, someone called Bucky's girl a whore. He has now made it his life's mission to find out who.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

*****

Bucky sat at the kitchen island, eyes narrowed, leg bouncing, and the same scene from last night replaying in his head.

Bucky drew random patterns on your bare shoulder, his nose buried into your hair. You were being quieter than usual, but he knew you were awake as he could feel your hands fidgeting.

He didn’t want to press you to tell him about it, so he settled on making you feel as loved as possible, pressing kisses into your hair.

Suddenly, you broke the silence, taking Bucky by surprise.

“Buck . . . do you think I’m a whore?”

“Wha-” Bucky lifted his head immediately, trying to look at you. But you hid your face in your hands, turning away from him.

“God don’t look at me. Fuck, this is so embarrassing,” You groaned into your hands. “Forget I said that.”

“No, honey, look at me please,” Bucky gently pulled your hands down, cradling your face. “Who called you that?”

“No, no, no one,” You shook your head frantically. “I’m sorry, just forget I said anything. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“No, sweetheart, who- okay we’ll get back to that later. But you are not a whore, okay? No woman deserves to be called that in the first place. Who-”

“No, no one. I was just . . . I just randomly thought of it.”

Bucky wasn’t convinced, but he let it slide.

For now.

“Well, I don’t want you thinking these things about yourself.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Okay?”

You nodded, seeming relieved and a little surprised that he dropped it that easily.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

It was now the next morning, and you were at the gym with Natasha, which gave Bucky the perfect opportunity to figure out who to murder.

Steve walked into the kitchen with Sam trailing behind.

“Morning Buck.” Steve greeted. His head stuck into the fridge, trying to look past the shit ton amount of edible cookie dough you had made a couple days earlier.

“How come you didn’t come run with us, you lazy fat ass.” Sam teased, leaning on the island.

“Didn’t feel like it.” Bucky narrowed his eyes.

Suspect 1: Sam Wilson, The Most Annoying Bird Alive

Sam had a tendency to poke fun at people, but some might not take it as well as others. For example, when a barista burst out in tears last week when Sam joked about her being “all over the place” with all the orders coming in. (He came in with flowers the next day)

Bucky wondered if Sam had said something that was supposed to be funny, but you didn’t think it was and got upset.

A part of Bucky wanted to settle on Sam so he had an excuse to beat him up, but the more rational side of him realized that you had gone on one too many missions with him to think he was being serious about anything he said.

Tony then came in, holding a bunch of empty coffee mugs in his hand, practically throwing them into the sink.

“Bruce said my mugs were ‘taking up too much room’ in the lab,” Tony rolled his eyes. “Well why doesn’t he try being the goddamn genius backbone of this team.”

Bucky stared at him intently.

Suspect 2: Tony Stark, The Dick Who Can’t Set His Metal Rock Music Lower Than 98

Tony had a tendency to snap easily, especially when he was low on sleep (which was basically all the time). Everyone usually steered clear of Tony when he was moody, because he would most definitely say the meanest things, but not really mean any of it.

Bucky tried to think if it was logical that Tony would snap at you and say something. However, he came to the conclusion that even if Tony had said something, you had known him for too long to take his sleep-deprived words to heart.

“What are you looking at, Winter Schnitzel?” Tony challenged, noticing Bucky staring at him.

“Nothing.” Bucky replied, his stare shifting over to his best friend, who was grinning in amusement, but still trying to find something to eat that wouldn’t give him diabetes.

Suspect 3: Steve Rog-

Bucky stopped himself, almost laughing at himself for thinking Steve would ever call a woman a whore.

Even though you always kept the fridge full of random items you would make, Steve would never say a single bad thing about you.

For now, Bucky was stuck.

⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃

6 hours later, and Bucky was still stuck.

You and Peter were out (God knows where), which was another perfect chance for Bucky to think.

But the problem was he couldn’t think of anyone.

Everyone in the compound adored you, so Bucky couldn’t figure out who the hell would deliberately say something to make you upset.

He dragged his shoes across the floor, cursing Steve in his head for making him go on a “stroll” because he apparently looked “pent-up”.

There was no way in hell Bucky would walk around outside, so he opted to take a walk inside, using Mother Steve’s demand to his advantage to scout out potential targets.

He halfheartedly glanced around the floor, stopping when his gaze landed on you.

He immediately grinned, not caring about the fact he probably looked crazy, and started his way over to where you were.

You were talking to someone with a bag in your hand. Bucky remembered you saying something about picking up a dress from the store for your friend. Peter was next to you, and for some reason, puffing his chest out?

But, as Bucky got closer, he realized you were talking to Jacob, the little dickwad who couldn’t take no for an answer,

“How many times do I have to tell you? Get out of my way. I’m trying to get this to someone.” Bucky heard you snap, tuning in with his enhanced hearing.

Bucky stopped, trying to assess the situation and figure out if you would appreciate him stepping in or not.

He knew you didn’t need anyone to stand up for you, but his overprotective side rippled through his body, his jaw clenching and fists balling.

“Baby, stop acting- “Jacob was cut off with a sharp slap.

The little bastard was taken by complete shock.

Meanwhile, Peter was still trying to look as intimidating as possible.

“Jacob, what the hell is your problem? I’ve told you to leave me alone more times than I can count. How fucking thick is your skull?”

Jacob was about to reply, with probably something bitchy, but he caught sight of Bucky in the corner with the most murderous glare and stopped himself.

He instead looked down and stepped to the side, giving you and Peter room to go.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Beat it.” Peter growled in the most non-threatening way possible as you two left, giving Bucky the perfect chance to slide in before Jacob could hightail out of there.

“Barnes.” Jacob greeted, clearing his throat.

“Callaway.” Bucky’s blood boiled at how differently he treated other men than how he treated women. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you to respect a lady?”

Before Jacob could reply, his equally dumb friend, Brody, walked past the two men.

“Damn, Jake. Barnes finally here to beat you up for calling his girl a whore?”

Bucky and Jacob both stared at Brody.

Jacob looked sickly pale, and Bucky looked calmly terrifying. Clear sign he was fucking enraged.

“Oh shit-” Brody finally put the pieces together, practically sprinting away.

Bucky turned back to face a petrified looking Jacob.

“So,” Bucky reached out, fixing Jacob’s tie and smoothing down his collar. “It was you, huh?”

Jacob tensed under Bucky’s touch.

“Chill pal, I just wanna talk.”

⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃

A bruised cheek, wet underwear, and hurt ego later, Jacob’s talk with Bucky was over.

Bucky threw his feet up on the ottoman, but not before telling Friday to make sure Jacob was apologizing to you, as instructed by Bucky himself.

He patiently waited for you on the couch, a wide grin appearing on his face as you walked in and cuddled up next to Bucky, but not without pressing a kiss to his lips first.

Halfway through the movie, you turned to look at Bucky.

“Thank you,” You smiled.

“For what, doll?”

You turned back to face the movie, a smile playing at your lips. “C’mon. I know that was you. He would never apologize on his own will.”

Bucky laughed, turning you around once again to pepper kisses all over your face.

“I love you, my little smartass.”

“I love you too, pops.”

Mission accomplished.

[buckyalpine]

Hello and hope you are doing well!! I was wondering if you could do smut story where the reader get more than she bargained for when telling Bucky that his dark side could do a better job at certain things. Also your stories are amazing ❤️🖤

Bucky gives you what you ask

YESSS. Thank you bb, Im so sorry this took forever and I hope you see this, I loved this so much. And as always I got so lost in it. Good God. He is dirty, dirty here.

You loved the way Bucky loved you. He was so soft, gentle, took care of all your needs without leaving behind a single mark on your delicate skin. Bucky was nothing more than a soft sweet thing, slowly getting back into his boyish 40's charm, a gentleman at all times. If you didn't know about his past, you would've never guessed he'd have another side to him.

But you'd seen the shift in his demeanor whenever he'd train in the gym and even more so when he was out on the field. The way his eyes would narrow with laser like focus when hitting his targets, the way he wouldn't flinch when putting a bullet between their eyes. His face would be expressionless when his metal arm would wrap around their throat, slowly draining life out of them, parts of the Winter Soldier still running deep in his veins.

And how badly you craved to have that side of him take you apart.

"What is it sweets" Bucky watched you fidget with the buckles of his tac suit, helping him undress after he'd just returned after a mission. There was something about him in his all black straps, leather and weapons that made your knees weak. It didn't help that his beard had started to fill out, the ends of his hair starting to curl at the nape of his neck. "You okay?"

You adore how attentive he is even when he's exhausted after weeks away from home but you wished just for once, he'd choke you with his metal arm instead of just hugging you with it.

"I want-" You paused for a second before continuing, "I want more"

"More of what doll" Bucky's wide puppy eyes were filled with worry; he made sure to always pay attention to your needs and he'd do anything to make you happy. "Tell me, you know I'd do anything"

"Just- take more control, be more rough with me" You weren't sure how you wanted to explain yourself but your body knew exactly what it needed, growing hotter by the second the longer he stood there in his tac suit before you. He let out a soft chuckle when he realized what you meant, laying down his knifes off to the side on the dressed.

"I had you moaning my name before I left doll" Bucky playfully rolled his eyes while you huffed, your sexual frustration only growing more when he tossed off his Kevlar leaving him in his tight black tshirt.

"Well the Winter Solider would have me screaming" You shrug, not noticing the way Bucky froze, now staring at you without blinking. "I think that side of you would do a better job at certain things, Buck"

"You don't want to see that side of me sweets" Bucky tried to keep his voice neutral, ignoring the way his cock was already throbbing in his pants, straining painfully against the thick fabric.

"But what if I do?" you challenged back, taking a step back when he moved forward, slowly backing you against the wall of your shared bedroom.

"Doll..." He warned, squeezing his eyes shut trying to collect himself, his fingers twitching at his sides. "That's not a good idea"

"Why not, think the Winter Soldier wouldn't be able to make me feel as good?" You added a taunt to your voice, hoping to rile him up, his chest now nearly pressing against yours, caging you against the wall.

"Is that so" Bucky tested the water slowly, still wanting to give you an out if you needed one because he wasn't going to be able to hold back once he started. You nodded, heart hammering against your chest as he took in a deep breath, his jaw clenched.

"As you wish sweets" He whispered by your ear, the tip of his cool metal knife suddenly pressing against your throat. Your eyes grew wide at the fact that he'd slipped it into his hand so swiftly, you hadn't noticed. "If you want me to stop, say Brooklyn, understand?"

"Yes" You squeaked, while he dragged it till it rested under your chin, tilting your head up to look meet his darkened eyes. Without a word, he sliced down your blouse, ripping away at the material that caught in the middle. He didn't give you a chance to speak, his hands grabbing the edges of your bra, splitting it into two before tearing your leggings into pieces next.

You were complete naked within seconds, suddenly feeling exposed under his gaze, still fully dressed himself. Bucky had seen you naked countless times, in fact you'd change in front of him without a care in the world, always giggling at the cute blush he'd have on his cheeks.

But this wasn't the same.

Not even the slightest.

He tossed you over his shoulder and threw you on the bed letting you bounce off the mattress while he stood at the edge.

"Spread your legs"

It wasn't a request. It was a demand.

Bucky looked like he wanted to devour you. This was the same man that had his head between your legs more times than you could count but he was staring at you like he'd never seen you before. You shrunk back, squeezing your thighs together at the low growl he made, grasping your ankles and splitting them apart till you were completely exposed to him, your wet folds giving away how turned on you were. He fumbled with the button of his pants, unzipping them and pulling them down just enough to free his cock, his palm and fingers swiping up your pussy to gather you slick, slathering it over his erection.

"Such a pretty baby with such a pretty pussy"

You bit back a whine as he started to jerk his cock, circling the tip with his thumb, spreading his own arousal around. He took a step back to admire you, his eyes shamelessly raking up and down till he was satisfied with his fill. He moved to lay on top of you, his nose trailing along the column of your neck, inhaling your soft scent. There was something so feral about him, you stayed frozen in place while his hands found their way to your waist, squeezing the soft flesh.

"I'll show you exactly what you've been missing out on" He nipping your earlobe before crawling off you again to throw off the rest of his clothes. "God, I've wanted this for so long"

There was no prep, no foreplay, no soft kisses and sweet words. Bucky grabbed your hips, manhandling you till your face was pressed against the mattress, his swollen cockhead prodding at your fluttering pussy. He let out a dark chuckle, swiping his cock up and down through your folds, pressing his tip against your clit.

"Bucky, fuck me" You were desperate to feel him inside you, wiggling your hips as best as you could to get him to push it in you but you were instead met with a harsh slap to your ass, the cool metal making your skin sting.

"Impatient little slut" He shook his head, taking both your wrists and twisting them behind your back, He held them in one hand while the other snaked up tp grab your hair, tugging it tight from the roots. "Beg. Beg me to fuck you"

"P-Please Bucky, want it!"

"You want who to fuck you princess, say it, tell me exactly whose cock you want to ruin you"

"Yours soldat, please, want you, please fuck me solda-FUCKK" Bucky slammed his cock into you without warning, setting in a brutal pace that had you gasping for air. His balls smacked you with each thrust, the grip he had on your wrists and hair tightening for better leverage.

"I fuck needed this" His head was thrown back, his thighs meeting the back of yours as he fucked you harder than ever before, the squelching of your pussy making a sticky, dirty mess all over him. "You have no. Fucking. Idea. how fucking hard is it every time I fuck you"

His words were punctuated with harsh thrusts, growling at the way you'd already started to flutter around him as he hit your cervix. Your jaw was slack from surprise and pleasure, pathetic moans and whimpers replacing your words.

"Do you? Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to hold back kotenok? How hard is it for me to not fuck your brains out when I'm deep in such a tight pussy? How badly I want to rail you, YA tak dolgo khotel tebya trakhnut" [I wanted to fuck you so hard for so long]

You'd never hard Bucky speak Russian, not once but his filthy mouth didn't stop as he continued to rail you, foreign curses dripping from his mouth.

"You think I'm such a gentleman don't you, huh? You remember the first time we had sex princess? how I made love to you? How slow it was, how you moaned when I put my cock in you for the first time?"

"Y-yes" Your body was slack against the bed, only held up because Bucky was gripping onto you with a bruising hold.

"I made love to you that night, didn't I. But I like to fuck baby, especially you, I've wanted to fuck this pussy for so long, ruin it all just for me"

You were suddenly flipped over again, whining when you felt empty, only to be filled right back up again seconds later when Bucky laid on his back, pulling you to straddle on top of him. He planted his feet against the mattress, not giving you a chance to move, fucking up into you, the angle of his hips rubbing against that sensitive spot inside you.

"Oh-oh f-fuckk" tears streamed down your face as he tweaked your nipples between his fingers before wrapping his hand around your throat. He muffled your sobs, slipping his thumb between your lips, shoving it down your mouth till you drooled.

"You look so pretty when you cry kotenok, is it too much?" He taunted, squeezing your throat tighter, "Don't think I haven't noticed the way you stare at my arm princess, I always knew you were a needy little slut deep down You wanted this though, hm? Wanted my fat cock to ruin you till you wouldn't be able to walk?"

"I-oh god-fe-els good I-gonna cummm" You could barely formulate sentence, practically squealing when Bucky rolled over once again, this time tossing your legs over his shoulders, his hand snaking down to rub your swollen clit.

"Gonna cum, are you princess? Who do you belong to, say it, who fucks you this good?!"

"Y-You Bu-"

A harsh slap to your cheek made your pussy clench, Bucky's blue eyes dilated to rings, a feral expression his face as he smacked your face once more making you sob out of pleasure again.

"That's not whose fucking right now you is it?! Tell me, say it"

"YOU SOLDAT" You wailed as he continued to thrust into your puffy, overstimulated pussy, getting his teeth, grabbing onto the headboard as it slammed against the wall.

"That's right kotenok, you belong to him now" Bucky let his body weight fall onto you, bringing his knees up and pounding you deep against the bed, his own pace growing sloppy, balls pulling tighter towards his body. "Gonna give you all of his cum sweets, gonna fill this slutty desperate cunt with all of my cum, that's what you want isn't it? To be a little cum dump for the Winter Soldier?"

Bucky's mind went somewhere else, back to the first time he'd seen you, still as the Soldier, back when the team first discovered him. Back when his brain was fried but you had remined seared in his mind. Back when his mission was to finish you but some part deep down inside him wanted something else he didn't understand.

"God, where were you all those nights I had to touch myself alone, when I needed something warm and tight to cum in? huh? Bet you didn't know that huh princess? didn't know that the Soldier lusted after the pretty bunny that tried to take him down?"

Your eyes grew wide at his confession, pleasure desperate to snap within seconds.

"Did you know the winter soldier wanted to fuck you bunny? Did you know he'd jerk off when no one was watching? Had no idea what was going on Bunny, just remember my cock aching so bad, leaking so damn much. Nothing made it better until I touched myself. Didn't even know what I was doing, just fucked my fist while I thought about how pretty you looked in that tac suit, came all over my sheets like a little boy"

"I-fuck-Can-can I cum soldat?" You clung onto him, whimpering at the way you had to desperately hold back from gushing all over the sheets, his words too much, you couldn't take it any more.

"Go a head and cum princess, takoy khoroshiy kotonok" [such a good little kitten] He nipped up your neck, rubbing your clit faster, moaning with you as you started to cum around his cock. His movements didn't stop, fucking you through your high till your body jolted under him, the smell of sex heavy in the room.

"S-S'too much" You hiccupped while Bucky continued to fuck you like a man with no morals.

"Too much? It's too much for you kitten? Don't worry, gonna fill you up so good baby, where, where do you want to soldat to cum?!"

"Inside!" You cried out, locking your ankles around his waist, your slurred sob turned into a guttural moan when he pinched your clit between his fingers.

"Here it comes kotenok, got so much cum for you, it's gonna drip baby, get ready, here it comes, here it fuckin' comes- OH FUUCCKKK" Bucky roared against your neck before stilling, his cock throbbing and twitching, hot seeding feeling you up till it leaked. You were practically floating, too fucked out to realize He'd gently gotten off you and cradled you close.

"Are you okay pretty girl?" Bucky cooed, snapping back into the sweetheart that he was, the switch over leaving you reeling with your eyes still crossed. "My poor baby"

Bucky chuckled at your dazed expression, cuddling you up to his chest, caressing your sweat slicked skin.

"Come back to me princess" He pulled the covers up to warm you up in his arms, resting you carefully against the pillows. "My good girl, you did so good for me angel, m'so proud of you, so good"

You whimpered in response, curling up against him, your body still jolting and pulsing.

"Was it too much angel?" His brows furrowed with concern, cupping your cheek to look at him. He kissed away the now dry tear tracks that stained your face, his thumb swiping over your hot skin.

"Never" You rasped out, your voice raw from screaming, "Was perfect Soldat"

"You're perfect angel" Bucky grinned, stroking your spine while you continued to snuggle into him, his cock already twitching at the thought of another round. "My perfect little kotenok"

[randomshyperson]

I Put A Spell on You - Wanda Maximoff Kinktober #03

Summary: After a tense week and a training session, Wanda finally had enough of your attitude.

Warnings: (+18), heavy smut with power dynamics,  brat tamer!Wanda and sub!Reader, edging, orgasm denial, slapping, a lot of teasing, blindfold and magical restrictions, enchanted strap, kind of rough,  implied enemies to lovers, some cursing | Words: 3.559k

A/N-> This is almost late. I totally forgot I had to post the stories.

General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

It was Natasha's idea, or at least it was a Black Widow kind of thing.

Most of what Wanda knew about it came from Steve's official report on the training, and the rest of the story came from Sam gossiping around the tower.

But in a nutshell: You had your vision temporarily impaired on the last mission, you were knocked out by it and it almost fucked everything up. Wanda would have thought that this was all it took to diminish your ego a bit, but instead, you and Nat had a weird widow's agreement about eliminating weaknesses or whatever, and this was adapted to your training.

The whole story was the reason you were training with a blindfold on. 

And don't let Natasha hear this, but you were an impressive fighter, even more than the older widow. Somehow you were more agile and stronger than Nat, and it was the kind of thing that made Clint remark worriedly about how much harder your widow training could have been and secretly made Wanda's heart beat faster.

But back to the point: Wanda shared very few training shifts with you. Steve and Nat found peaceful interaction between team members advantageous, so as you didn't get on so well, she had fewer training sessions in your company.

Well, that changed because you seemed determined to prove that you could block blows without seeing them.

"Wow, you're still here." It came out more ironic than she wanted, but Wanda was actually almost impressed. It had been nearly a month since the whole thing had started, and this training was coming after a particularly exhausting mission. She was just going for a quick session - so that the muscles wouldn't lose habit as Steve liked to say - when she found you in the empty tower gym. 

The eyes covered by a black cloth were an almost comical sight, or at least, Wanda assumed that finding it funny was what she was feeling, every time she saw your serious and concentrated form, sweating in the gym.

"Good evening, Wanda." You greeted her without looking at her, your head down. You were listening to her movement she assumed. 

Wanda muttered the greeting back, busy leaving her belongings on the bench and looking for a treadmill. But you cleared your throat. "Don't you want a real challenge?"

She chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Oh, and that would be you, of course."

You smile, your hands behind your body. Wanda thinks she likes the blindfold, it allows her to stare you brazenly, without you even knowing.

"I'm a legendary fighter, yes."

She has to laugh at how naturally you say that. She takes a quick look at the treadmill, and well, smashing your ass really does sound more interesting.

"Okay, real challenge, show me what you've got."

Wanda positions herself on the opposite side of the mat from you, and clears her throat when you remain static.

" Won't you take your shoes off?"

She grimaces softly. Yeah, your hearing was starting to impress. Sighing begrudgingly, she uses magic to make the shoes come off and float away, and before she even has a chance to speak, you do.

"No magic tricks." It sounds like a serious warning, rather than a request, and Wanda doesn't miss a chance to torment you.

"Oh, is that too much for a legendary fighter?" She mocks, but all she gets back is an easy chuckle that she isn't able to reciprocate because you adjust your training gloves and the movement is distracting enough.

After a moment, you get into position. "I'm ready."

"At last." She scoffs, stepping forward. 

Ultimately, she's impressed. And she almost begins to believe that maybe the cloth is fake - there's no chance that you can dodge absolutely all the blows she's so exhaustively learned with such ease. 

It doesn't take long for Wanda to start getting impatient, and for you to start smiling at her, in that smug way that makes her skin itch.

She makes a mistake, and it's enough for you to knock her to the ground.

"Again." You say, standing next to her, equally out of breath but without a scratch. Wanda huffs.

"How the fuck are you doing this?" She asks, getting to her feet with a magical push. You swallow dry, taking a step back, very alert.

"Practice, of course." You mutter. "Are you ready to continue?"

But Wanda narrows her eyes, her head tilting slightly at your sudden alertness. She decides to test a theory, and red sparks appear in the air near your head.

The leap you make in the other direction makes her giggle playfully. 

"Something wrong, darling?"

You grumble, raising a hand in warning, irritably hitting exactly the right spot to point it at her. "Stop this. I told you, no magic."

But Wanda is tired, and she's feeling naughty tonight. Something about your vulnerability makes her body heat up.

She chuckles darkly, taking steps away that only make you swallow dry. "Someone's scared." She sighs, and the sparks appear again. You gasp, clearly anxious and not knowing where to strike.

It's Wanda's fault, there are too many of those and magic is much harder to defend against.

She chuckles at your state, and you snap back almost immediately."That's not funny, Maximoff." 

A magical tug pushes under your knee, behind your elbows, near your foot. Everything makes you jump with fright and sends Wanda into a fit of giggles.

"You're not so cocky when you're scared."

In a desperate attempt, you try to attack the magic, which only disappears into thin air against your skin. Wanda just stands back, watching the scene with amusement.

With an impatient grunt, you raise a finger at her. "Stop this shit, I'm warning you-"

"Don't be rude, darling. I like you best when you're polite." Wanda interrupts, and your exclamation of indignation turns into a grunt of pain when a magical tug forces you to your knees on the mat.

"What the hell?" You gasp, raising your hand to remove the blindfold. 

But the sensation that follows is like ropes grabbing your wrists and pinning your fists behind your back. Your heart is racing at the same moment. "Wanda, what the actual fuck you're doing?"

Although you can't see her, you hear her very well. Her slow steps towards you, until she makes you jump gently when she touches your cheek. You swallow dry. "Stop this bullshit, Wanda, I'm serious."

She pushes her tongue into the roof of her mouth, a clicking sound that makes you swallow dry again. Her fingers caress your cheek, and the lack of visibility makes everything all too vivid.

"You have a very dirty mouth, kotenok (kitten)." She retorts in a tone that makes you shudder from head to toe. With a dry throat, you look up, even though you can't actually see her.

It must be a good thing for your sanity, though. God knows what you would have done if you could have seen the way Wanda's eyes darkened with hunger when she saw you on your knees, looking up at her.

Licking your lips, you say calmly: "Be very careful with your next action, Wanda. It will be definitive for our future interactions."

She bites back a smile, and her hand leaves your cheek for your hair, the motion in the strands at the nape of your neck drawing a stubborn sigh from your lips.

"See, it's much better when you're polite." She says softly, letting her fingers slide between the strands, stroking your hair gently. "That's how it goes. You behave nicely, and you're rewarded. Behave badly, and well..."

To illustrate, she moves her free fingers. You hear the magic before you feel it - right under your blouse, like a rough tug on your left nipple that makes you grunt in pain.

"Fuck, you little shit-" But swearing at her makes it worse. The sensation is repeated on the other nipple, not real enough to hurt the flesh, but enough to cause pain. And in the current scenario, on your knees and blindfolded, just the right amount for a wave of pleasure to wet your panties. 

It takes you by surprise, so much so that instead of grunting in pain, you practically moan. And that makes Wanda smile, especially as she can see the blush rising on your face.

"You need to improve that attitude." She starts again, adjusting the grip on your hair to force your face in her direction again. You bite the inside of your cheek hard, certain that this time, you would have whimpered. "You've been acting like this for too long, you've gotten comfortable in your naughtiness. I can fix that."

"Wanda..."

"Shush, darling, now you don't talk. You listen. Isn't that what you were hoping to train yourself to do?" She teases, and the grip loosens. You don't have to obey, but you're desperate to do so.

With a lump in your throat, you nod and remain silent. And the next second, when the sound of a zipper fills the room, you grow restless and alert.

You're ready to question when Wanda sighs.

"Shit, honey, that's been working for me too." She panted and you were dying to understand what the hell she was talking about when, along with her shortened breaths, you heard a sound that shook your body to its core. 

Was it really possible that Wanda Maximoff was fingering herself right in front of you?

"W-wanda-"

The slap isn't magical - nor is it weak. Your cheek burns, but Wanda grabs your face anyway.

"I told you to be quiet." She grunts, and in a way, the affected voice is confirmation enough of your suspicions. You can feel your underwear starting to feel uncomfortable with the dampness gathering. "You've talked a lot of shit since I joined the team, now you listen, you brat."

Not only do you hear it, but as the movements continue, you can smell it. Her sweet, intoxicating essence is enough to make you moan for the first time in the night.

Wanda let that one slide, because the sound is too good to punish you for it.

And because you've held still long enough for her fingers not to be enough anymore, she's decided that you deserve a reward.

"Open your mouth, darling, I've got a little treat for you." She sighs, and you obey almost immediately, even though your face is burning.

Wanda removes her fingers from inside herself, sighing softly as she does so. Unhurried, she presses them against your tongue and has to bite down hard on her own when you buckle forward, sucking on her fingers with enthusiasm.

"Look at you, who knew you were such an eager little thing?" She taunts, although the sensation of your tongue on her fingers is almost making her lose her train of thought. She can only imagine how deliciously warm you must feel elsewhere.

You just keep moaning, sucking all her wet pleasure from her fingerprints, and Wanda has to reach down and grab your hair once more to regain some of her sense of grounding.

Her voice is hoarse when she speaks again, but you don't seem to mind. "Did you like your treat, darling?"

You open your mouth to reply but hesitate before doing so. And Wanda smiles proudly when she realizes. "Oh, dear, you can speak if it's to answer my questions. Tell me how much you appreciated your treat."

Swallowing dryly, you lower your head. "I loved it, Wanda. And I would love to taste it from the source."

She bites back a giggle, using one hand to lift your chin. "You didn't even thank me."

"Th-"

The magic squeeze comes directly to your clit now. You let out a little yelp, but Wanda's hand doesn't let you lower your head. 

"I didn't tell you to thank me. Rather, I was reprimanding you because good manners don't come to you naturally." She clarifies, and with tears of pain and pleasure in your covered eyes, you nod in understanding. Wanda sighs. "I'm going to make a good girl out of you, even if I have to keep you on edge all night for it."

The whimper that escapes your throat is humiliating, Wanda loves the sound. 

The next sensation on your skin is that of a chain, wrapping itself around your neck. 

"We need to continue this in a more private place, darling. Where no one will interrupt us." Wanda guides, and the chain gives a gentle tug, the hint caught just in time by you, who are on your feet almost immediately. Wanda bites back a smile. "Fuck, I could get used to this."

She manages to lead you quietly and obediently through the empty corridors, but your anxiety overcomes you at the door to her room.

You stop walking, gulping. Wanda smiles because you're waiting for permission to ask a question, even when you're dying to have it answered.

"It's my room." She clarifies, but you shake your head, signaling that it wasn't your doubt. She shouldn't be impressed that you've already become able to memorize the sound of the way to the rooms, but she is. Smiling, Wanda brings a hand up to your face again. "What do you wish to ask, darling?"

You sigh at the permission granted. "Are you... are you sure? About this..." Wanda is taken aback. Your hands are still bound, you're still blindfolded, at her mercy, and yet you're worried about how sure and comfortable she is. You take a deep breath as if trying to find the right words. "This is important, Wanda. We can't go back to how things were before if I come in. And if you're not sure, send me away, and I swear we won't talk about this again and-"

Wanda moves in, it's quick and less hungry than she thought your first kiss would be, considering recent events and frankly, the way she's been craving you.

Your lips are soft and kind of addictive. Your mouth kisses her with real confidence as if you've done it a dozen times, and Wanda has no idea how often you've done it in your dreams. 

But reality is superior to any of those.

You grunt against her mouth, impatiently, and Wanda knows it's because of your trapped hands. But all she can do is smile mischievously, using hers to pull you by the shirt into the room.

The door is magically closed behind the two of you.

You're not surprised to be put on your knees again - even if a moan of protest escapes you. Wanda smiled, feeling a wave of excitement at your vulnerable anxiety, your eyes blindfolded and your head moving gently as if you expected to hear what she was up to.

Wanda bit her lip, working on her own clothes without magic, so that you could hear the motions. It brought a shiver to watch you squirm gently, swallowing dry as if you could picture her naked. And your pleading sigh, practically meowing her name, made Wanda lose her mind.

Now wearing only her underwear, she grabbed your face again and kissed you with everything she had - teeth and tongue - and swallowed every throaty moan until she needed to breathe again. When she pulled away, a line of saliva connected your lips.

"We need a system, darling..." She murmured, her fingers working to open the belt loop of your sweatpants. "You know the color one? Green for go, and red for stop?"

"Y-yes, Wanda, please, just keep going-" She interrupted with a kiss mixed with a giggle at your desperate response, the hands that had opened your pants helping you to the bed, laying you down. The magical chains had adapted, and your hands were attached to the headboard now, holding you open for Wanda. Your arousal grew so intense that Wanda could see your muscles twitching.

She sighed contentedly as she sat on your hips, watching your curious and expectant movements. Magic did the work of removing your pants, but Wanda was taking her time teasing your skin under your blouse, having the best time in the world watching you squirm and gasp.

"Tell me what you want." 

You swallowed dryly, forcing your voice out: "Anything you want to give me."

Wanda bit back a giggle, her fingers tracing your torso. "Good answer, darling." She sighs, and in one tug, rips off your shirt. The remaining pieces are swept away as you try to keep your breathing under control. Wanda adjusts herself and sits on your stomach, her wetness and warmth against your skin making you wince. "I have an idea, you let me use you and I might consider letting you touch me, what do you think?"

"Fuck." You moan, and Wanda can't let that one slide, though the slap on your cheek is light, and much more of a teasing warning than a punishment. It makes you throb inside.

"Language." She warns, and you sigh.

"I'm sorry."

Wanda strokes the soft red on your cheek, leaning in in a way that makes her wetness slide down your abdomen. The involuntary contraction of your muscles draws a gasp from both of you.

"Behave yourself." She warns, and it seems to be as much about the language as your slight movements, and although you nod, you repeat the gesture. Wanda gasps and grips your cheeks tightly. But you force your body upwards, and her grip loosens as she begins to grind against your stomach, giving in to the sensation. 

It brings some kind of pride to know that she's just as affected by this as you are, but even as she's drenching your skin with her hot pleasure, Wanda lowers herself to wrap her hands around your throat and as she uses your tense abdomen to reach her own orgasm, her grip warns you who's in charge. She doesn't take long to come - all the teasing outside has gotten under her skin - and it's the hottest thing that's ever occurred to you, even if you can't see it.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." She gasps through the last waves of her orgasm, her hips thrusting hard into you, who pants beneath her. Her juices run down your belly and you squirm impatiently.

"Please, Wanda. Let me touch you." You beg breathlessly, but she kisses you hungrily, her hands going down to your waist. At first, you think she's going to give you what you want, but Wanda gropes you in an unusual way, and you hear her magic before you feel a new volume between your legs. It takes you by surprise, the enchanted item and your tense body makes Wanda break the kiss.

With her forehead pressed against yours, she asks: "Red or green, darling?" As if to encourage an answer, Wanda grabs the conjured fake cock in her hand. It's really enchanted because you feel everything and the pleasure of the moment's stimulation brings a gasp. You move your hips, in the same direction as her without realizing what you're doing, and Wanda giggles. "I still need words."

"Fuck, green, yes." You moan and Wanda gives you a warning bite on the lips for cursing, but your head is spinning with pleasure from the movements that continue between the two of you.

Toys are nothing new - but a magic strap-on that you can feel as an extension of you certainly is. And Wanda seems willing to drive you to the brink of insanity when she simply adjusts the toy at her entrance and sinks in all at once.

You whimper, almost coming at once. She rocks gently against your lap without caring.

It's hard to breathe, especially when Wanda picks up speed and practically jumps on your cock, her warm walls clenching around you, trying to stop you from pulling out. Everything is too hot and just when you're ready to come, Wanda grabs your throat.

"Hold it." It's an order, almost impossible to obey when she rides your lap with such determination. You choke, struggling against the chains, the hot knot in your belly begging to break.

You almost sob. "I-I can't... please-"

She lets out a wicked giggle and doesn't stop moving. "Don't worry, babe, you're not coming. No matter how much you want to."

Wanda moans, and suddenly her movements stop. She groans heavily, gets impossibly tight and you think you're going to come, but something holds you back. Almost like a force of strength, and when Wanda falls limp against you, and her body continues to tremble from the intensity of the orgasm in contrast to yours, burning with more frustration, you understand what she's done.

"Wanda, what the fuck?" you gasped in a mixture of disbelief and irritation. And instead of losing her temper, she giggles mischievously at you.

"That's why you don't deserve to cum, baby. You're a foul-mouthed brat." She bites your jaw as she sits up, and you gasp, feeling her clench around you. "You're not coming until you improve this attitude."

She thrusts into you as a warning and although you feel as if you could come, your body simply won't obey. Because of the blindfold, you can't see her red irises either. 

"You're so mean, Wanda." You groan, sighing at the sensation of her pulling out. 

"Oh, darling, we have barely started."

[wosoafc]

Hi! Could I ask for something with Alessia Russo? With Reader being the younger sister of Leah?

warnings: SMUT + 18 in the end! (English isn't my first language, please ignore any mistakes...)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

„Hey Katie! Do you know who this is? Right next to leah?“ alessia pulls katie tot he side before she had a chance to sit down for lunch. „Thats y/n, you don’t know her?“ Katie asked confused. Being at arsenal for quite some time she has seen you growing up as leahs little sister. You knew katie since you were about 11 years old, with her being at the club for almost 10 years now. „Leah has a sister???“ Less asks, eyes wide open out of surprise. „Yeh, back when i got here she was a tiny little girl, and now look at her, all grown up., a real women now“ Katie chuckles but less just nods and mumbles „She really is…“. Katie gives her a confused look but then proceed to sit down at her lunch table, as well as less sitting down next to kyra. Nevertheless she can’t keep her eyes off of you and she is barely able to follow kyras conversation.

At the other table you find yourself with similar thoughts, even though your eyes never meet alessias. Obviously you knew her, but only from the tv and pictures, the real thing was something completely different. After finishing high school you decided to move to the states for a few years to pursue your career as a sports physio at college. But now, with a degree in your bag, you decided it was time to come back home, and that was the reason you found yourself at the arsenal training center this morning. Leah managed to get you an interview and now you were just hoping they would choose you. You have always been a big arsenal fan, just like your sister, but a career as a player wasn’t something you wanted to approach. Still, working fort he club you‘ve been cheering on since being a little girl, would be a huge honor. And this lunch made you want to spend everyday here even more. You didn’t know how to approach this, you didn’t even talk to alessia yet, but you knew from the moment you laid eyes on her that you wanted to.

So, after succesfully getting the job at arsenal, it was finally time for your first day. Renee introduced you in the morning, and everyone was so excited to work with you. The arsenal girls adored you, you knew that. Back in time you would always spend time with them. It was like the whole team was your big sister, not only leah. Being thrown into work rightway made you forget about your constant thoughts about alessia for a few days, but it didn’t last long. During a training session she got hurt, just a little bit, but it still led to you guiding her into the physios room. While you were examining her foot she finally broke the silence „Why didn’t i know leah had a sister until a few weeks ago?“ she grins down at you when you look up and chuckle. „I don’t know. I went to the US for a few years and wasn’t around here for quite some time. Apparently all that girl can talk about is football and herself“ you grin and alessia giggles a bit. That was the moment when you knew, that you would never get enough of that sound, and you would probably do everything to hear it again. „Well nice to meet you now“ less grins and sits up as soon as you are done. „Jep, and if you like leah just wait until you get to know the best williamson child.“ Alessia giggles again and you give yourself a mental high five for that. „If you say so…i do like leah pretty much so you’ll have to try hard“ she grins cheekily at which you playfully roll your eyes. „Challenge accepted.“ You say before taping alessias ankle while conintuing to chat with her a bit.

From that moment on it was a miracle when you and less were not talking. At lunch, in the gym, your office just everywhere when you both had the chance to spend some time. Usually you were making jokes, good and bad, about everything and everyone, while less was just giggling 99% of the time. You thought it was the perfect arrangement. But for now it was only light, playful banter, you never managed to have a serious conversation with her. Let alone coming close to asking her out in some way. It was getting harder and harder, spending time with alessia just made you want to be close to her more and more. So after a few weeks at arsenal you decided to test the waters a bit, pulling katie aside after training to talk. Katie was one of the girls you knew the longest. You couldn’t ask your sister about stuff like that, she would just get weird and all protective. So you thought katie would be the best person to approach.

„Hey kiddo, what’s up“ katie grins and slumps down on a couch. You sit down next to her and sigh before starting the conversation. „Umm do you think it would be weird if i would…be with someone from the team?“ you ask carefully but katie just cant contain a laugh. „I got a girlfriend williamson“ she grins which earns her a slap on the arm from you. „Not you! Now be serious“ you laugh but try to stay on track with the conversation. „Hm no, i think it’s fine. You’re not our coach or something so just go for it“ she states and you nod relieved. „Good…now on a totally unrelated note, do you know alessias…situation?“ you ask while blushing heavily. Katie laughs again and nudges you before answering „So you got the hots for less? I know she is single but nothing more than that“ katie shrugs and you nod. „Alright that’s all i need to know…thanks katie“ you smile and she ruffles your hair a bit. „Course kiddo, go and get her!“.

So now you found yourself, waiting in front oft he changing rooms for alessia to come out. She was always one of the last so you figured that would be your chance to talk to her alone. Finally, just as predicted after everyone else already left, she stepped out. „Hey less, i wanted to talk to you“ you get up from your seat and approach her. „Hey“ she smiles softly which gives you a lot more confidence. „I wanted to ask you something“ you start and she nods encourangily so you continue „If you…wanttohavedinner with me“ you mumble and she can’t contain a small giggle. „Sorry i didn’t catch that, what’s up y/n?“ she grins. Even though she didn’t understand the whole sentence, she kind of knew where you were going with this. You sigh again „Do you want to…go out with me some time?“ you finally manage to say out loud. Her grin widens and she gently takes your hand, stroking with her thumb over it. „I’d love to“ she answers which makes you breath out relieved by that answer.

It only took a few dates, that laste about 2 days each, until you both were head over heels for each other. You still kept it a secret, even though katie kind of suspected that there was something between you too, but apparently she kept this to herself as well. This meant you kept it a secret from leah as well, which made you nervous from time to time but less assured you it’s gonna be alright.

When your birthday approached you two were dating each other for 4 months and less couldn’t be more excited fort he day. She loves to make gifts and looking after you. Having a day off you were still sound asleep when she was already downstairs, preparing a breakfast in bed for you. A few minutes later you were woken up by the smell of pancakes and fresh coffee right next to you. „Good morning birthday girl“ less grins at you and gives you a sweet, lingering kiss on the forehead. „Morning less“ you smile back, rubbing your sleepy eyes. „Brought you some breakfast, your favourite“ she grins and slumps down next to you. „Hmm thanks lessi“ you grin and start digging into the pancakes while less was having some as well. After finishing the food you stretch yourself and smile over to less „I’m so glad i have you lessi“ you say and situ p but less has other plans and pulls you down next to her again. „Me too baby“ she mumbles into your neck and kisses it lightly. After a few kisses she sits up and grins at you „I already have your first birthday present with me“ she smiles and plays with your hair. „Really? Where is it?“ you laugh and try to situ o but less pushes you down and straddles your lap. „Why don’t you take this off“ she points to her oversized shirt and shorts „and find out yourself“. You grin cheekily, already sensing where less was going with this. So you dont hesitate and pull her shirt over her head and shorts down. You flip her onto her back and look down at her with dark eyes. „Arsenal red, just for you“ less grins, wearing a gorgeous red lingerie set that she got for your birthday. „You are so fucking beautiful“ you groan and finally kiss her deeply, letting your tongue slip in rightaway. Your hands where everywhere, on her neck, face breasts, legs and ass. Wanting to feel as much as possible of less soft skin. Her neck was already red from your nips and kisses while you where kissing down the valley of her breasts. „Hmm i’m gonna make you feel sooo good“ you mumble against her skin while stroking up and down alessias waist, fingers dipping into the slip from time to time. „No baby“ less glances down at you „Today I’m gonna make you feel good“ she grins and pulls you up by the collar of your shirt and flips you around again. „I thought we could try something new“ she bites her lips and smiles lightly. Your sex life was, exciting to say the least. But for now you have always been the one on top and in charge. It turned out less never had sex with a women before which led to you taking the lead. But apparently less has gained a lot of confidence in her sexuality by now and was willing to change things up a bit. And you weren’t opposed to that idea at all. „Yeah? Go ahead lessi girl“ you grin and cross your arms behind your head, looking expectingly at less. After taking off your clothes less dove straight in and started sucking at your already hard nipples. She knew how sensitive they were and spent quite some time stimulating them before kissing further down until she was head to head with your cunt. She kissed over the wet fabric, lingering over your clit for a few seconds longer which made you squirm, pressing your legs together a bit. „Fuck less“ you groan at the sight and feeling of less being down there. She looks up at you and then slowly takes your slip into her mouth before pulling it down to expose your wet cunt. After throwing it away somewhere in the room she sits up and takes your thighs in both her hands. „Spread your legs wide form e babygirl“ she demands and you immediately obey. „Good girl“ she grins and then starts kissing the inner side of  your thighs before finally taking a long lick though your folds which makes you moan loudly. „Fucking hell less“ she groan and she starts licking faster before taking your clit into her mouth, sucking on it gently. „Yes right there“ you moan again and press her head down a bit while rocking your hips into her face.

And suddendly the door bursts open, leah stepping inside before she realizes what was happening with shocked scream and wide eyes, face going completely pale. Less ist he first to do something and very quickly pulls a blanket over both of you. „What the…less what are you…y/n explain!“ leah finally manages to stutter out, not knowing how to feel about what just happened. „Leah you cant just walk into my room!“ you protest and pull your shirt over your head „Whats wrong with you?“ you add. „I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday! Would you please explain…this now?!“ leah answers. „well i think you saw quite clearly what less and i where doing“ you answer bluntly while pulling up your shorts again. Leah grumbles and then adverts her gaze to less. „What do you think you’re doing?“. „I-im sorry leah“ less mumbles, being completely overwhelmed by the whole situation. „She is my fucking sister alessia!“ leah says angrily which makes less eyes go glassy. „I- she is, we are dating“ less trys to explain herself but leah just scoffs. „Dating? So you’re fuck buddys great. Because there are no other girls to fuck in london than my sister?“. „No one like here…“ less says quietly before regaining her composure, knowing she hast o step up now. She takes your hand and looks up at leah again „We’re not just messing around…I’m sorry she is your sister leah but i…i love her“ she finally says which makes your head snap to her rightaway. „You do?“ you say, not believing what you have just heared. „I rellay do love you, and leah you can’t change that“ alessia states, more sure than ever. „I love you too“ you smile and look her deep in the eyes before you hear a cough and remember leah is still there. „Leah i rellay care about her, can’t you just be happy for us?“ less asks carefully and leah rolls her eyes but the anger is seemingly fading away. „Even tough my brain is seriously damaged after seeing…that. I have to right?“ she asks. You both nod in unison which makes leah chuckle a bit before she nudges less slightly. „If you hurt her…she has a bunch of older sisters at arsenal that will kick your ass“. Less giggles slightly and pulls you into her side „Don’t worry cap, never in a million years.“ You grin at less and leave a lingering kiss on her lips which is only broken by leah making a gagging noise. „Don’t push it guys“ she groans and leaves the room, never forgetting to knock on your door again.

[wosoragebaiter69]

recovery takes time

part 2 of ‘you are broken on the floor’

alexia putellas x keeper!reader

request: here

A/N: reminder that i’m a writer and not a med student so idk what times are like for this..

also since y’all wanted me to ask more questions.. if you’ve experienced anything paranormal lmk because i’m interested in that stuff and experienced stuff myself so 🤷

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The first few weeks of recovery are the worst, you can’t do anything at all. Even walking is a challenge, how would you ever go back to where you were?

Alexia was always by your side though, helping wherever she could considering you weren’t allowed to lift anything. The concussion went away as expected and now was just a long journey of recovery ahead.

“You and I both know you’ll be back out on the soon, give yourself time. Recovery isn’t a quick process, remember what you told me when I did my ACL.” She’d say things similar to that, and for a while you’d believe her until you saw what the media kept saying.

As much as it affected your mental health, it only made you want to come back stronger and be better, to prove the critics wrong. To show the world who you were and that you were staying.

- - - - -

After 10 weeks, you could do regular tasks again. It did tire you out but it gave you strength and the feeling you had control over something. It’s something you so desperately needed, outside of Alexia of course.

You started to head back to the training grounds for meetings with physios and trainers who were doing their best to assess where to start when lifting weights and doing other flexible motions with your arms and chest that isn’t too harsh.

While it still isn’t much, it’s still something. That’s all that matters.

- - - - -

When you were first cleared to lift 5kg, Alexia was there. She always was when you had more progress in getting closer to the pitch. She was your number 1 supporter and it really encouraged you to be better.

When you could fully stretch your arms without pain or feeling uncomfortable, she was there.

When you could go back to lifting regular weights in gym sessions, she’d watch you while feeling immense pride at how far you’d come.

When you were kicked balls to for the first time again, she watched and congratulated every ball you saved.

She’s your knight in shining armour.

- - - - -

The day of your first game, a year of recovery behind you. You were finally starting for your club again. You stand tall behind your girlfriend who sports the armband.

Ever since it was announced you were in training and back in the squad, the media had been relentless. Asking too many questions. Wondering too many things.

You had one job tonight, and that was to show the world who you were. Who you are. Who you will be.

You walk out, fans yelling and cheering as the Barça anthem plays in the background. You missed this so bad.

- - - - -

The game was tough, some shots on you but you managed to keep a clean sheet. Alexia smiling and crowd roaring at you as you did so.

When the final whistle blows, Ale runs to you first pulling you into a crushing hug.

“Mi amor, you did so well.” She wraps her arms around your waist and kisses your neck.

“Thanks Ale, couldn’t have done it without you.” You reply, hands brushing up and down her back.

No matter what happened in life, you’d always want to do it with Alexia. Only Alexia.

—————————————————————————

i’m gonna close my requests for the time being so i can get through my 7 other works 🙏

[natsaffection]

do you think you could write a second part to the coach fic where during practice natasha convinces reader to sneak off with her and reader gives her a blow job :))

Reward Pt. 2 | N.R

MINORS DNI 18+!

Warnings: G!P Natasha (32), kinda manipulative, blow job

Word count: 870 words

A/n: first time writing a blowjob 🫠

Part 1

The training session was in full swing and the rhythmic sound of sneakers on the pitch provided a familiar backdrop. Concentrated and motivated, the team went through exercises and games under Natasha's watchful eye. Unbeknownst to the rest of the players, there was a secret connection beneath the surface.

Moving through the training routine with precision, you couldn't lose Natasha's gaze. Natasha, standing on the sidelines, had her usual stoic expression, but her eyes told a different story. A subtle grin played on her lips as she watched your maneuvers.

As you dribbled the ball, you felt Natasha's gaze intensify, a gaze that seemed to bear the weight of your secret connection. After a while, Natasha gathered the team together to discuss the nuances of a particular move, her gaze lingering on you with a knowing glint. Unaware of the hidden dynamics, the rest of the team listened intently as Natasha explained the intricacies of executing a perfect rondo.

“Well, team, the Rondo is a crucial move that can surprise the opponents,” Natasha explained, turning her gaze back to you. “Y/n, you’re at the center, orchestrating the moves. It’s all about precision and quick decisions.”

But you hesitate. "Coach, I'm not sure the Rondo is the best option here. I think a pick-and-roll could open up more scoring opportunities."

There's a brief silence in the gym as Natasha's eyes met yours and the unspoken challenge hung in the air. The team exchanged glances, unaware of the hidden disagreement unfolding before them.

Natasha stepped closer to you, seemingly unfazed. “Everyone else is going according to my plan,” she said loudly in the hall, her eyes never leaving you, “and you’re coming with me.”

Everyone looked at you with pity and you just wanted to sink into the ground in front of her. Natasha didn't looked away and then took a step back to go into her office. You run after her and hear a few whispers of “good luck.”

In Natasha's office, the weight of your opinion still weighed on you, and there was an underlying tension in the air. Natasha turned her gaze to you and lowered her gaze to your lips for a moment. A subtle, knowing smile played on Natasha's lips as she leaned in, her voice becoming a more sultry tone.

“I have to admit, that wasn’t so stupid. But beware of you questioning my competence in front of the team again." You look at her and nod, noticing how Natasha's hands go down to her pants, "Maybe it's time to put your talented mouth to better use. What do you think?"

The proposal hung in the air, laden with a seductive implication that transcended professional boundaries. You were caught in the magnetic pull of Natasha's words and felt heat rising within you.

Natasha unbuckled her belt, unzipped her pants, and then reached in to pull her cock out. The sight already made your mouth water, but you held back and looked into her cold eyes. “Well, what are you waiting for?” You barely had a chance to open your mouth before your Head was pushed down and her thick shaft was pushed between your lips.

“Yes, that’s it,” Natasha grunted, pushing herself forward until she was almost down your throat. “The only thing your little mouth is good for, right? Come on, suck it..”

The words stuck in your gut, creating a burning pit of pleasure that rushed down to your pussy, making you moan around the cock in your mouth. Natasha placed her hands on either side of your head and began fucking your mouth in earnest. “Fuck yes, that’s going to cum right down my little slut’s throat,” she gasped. “Yes, right there, y-yes, shit!”

You hesitantly swirled your tongue around the tip of her cock and were pleased when you heard her let out a shuddering "yes."

A little unsure, you moved your knee, came a little closer and wrapped a hand around the base of Natasha’s cock. Then you took more into your mouth, surprised that you were taking up so much space and gasping when you felt Natasha's finger tangle in your hair.

“Careful.” It was all muffled and raspy and quiet in a way that made your stomach clench with both desire and embarrassment. You begin sucking the cock like it was an oversized baby bottle and were rewarded with a deep growl of approval and a rather sharp tug on your hair.

You felt tears forming in your eyes, and you were too distracted by your body's reactions to realize that what you were doing was good. A shot of “Coming” slid down her throat as she came in your mouth, making you cough. You awkwardly try to swallow. One thing was for sure, though: this tasted much stronger than you expected, and you really wondered if you could ever get used to it.

You wipe away her remains and stand back up. Natasha already put her cock back in her pants and looked at you until she came to you and pulled you into a kiss. She let go and also wiped a small residue from your mouth with her thumb, “Good girl. Now let’s finish training outside.”

-

-

-

[lotties-ashwagandha]

POWER CURES

tashi donaldson x fem!reader, word count 4.2k. NSFW!

your career in sports journalism has made you one of the most successful women in your field — a career you built on your own after you broke up with tashi donaldson at stanford. yet rivalry still burns between you, and whenever given the opportunity you can't help but add fuel to the fire. requested by @elaci who also writes for challengers so go follow :)

“It’s a miracle he’s still playing,” you say. “Art showed so much passion today, I could feel it. Maybe next time he could focus on hitting the ball instead of smashing ants on the court with his racket – it just sends the wrong message I think, not very eco-friendly.” 

Tashi shakes her head, attempting to brush off your comment, but you can feel the silent fury you’ve stirred up in her. Her expression is partially hidden by her sunglasses as the two of you stand at the edge of the court, her only guard from your scrutiny. It’s been nine years since you’ve spoken to her, but the four years you dedicated to her before that taught you every one of her tells. She’s different now – she wears her hair short, her makeup darker, age and experience have made her seem solemn. But you can feel it, that under all of the change she is still the same. 

“At least he still plays,” she says sharply. “You’re the critic, the journalist, but you would get on the court and get yourself knocked the fuck out. Art works, he doesn’t lock himself in the basement to write pity-party bullshit for money.” 

“Neither do I,” you smile. “I don’t write anything for money, though I do enjoy the benefits.” 

“You’ve always been greedy,” Tashi accuses. “You enjoy taking what isn’t yours, and destroying what you can’t reach.” 

You shrug. You won’t attempt to deny it – greed is what got you into this profession, and greed is what has held you up to survive it. Greed is what got you a million dollar mansion and the audience that paid for it, and greed is what has you standing at the side of Tashi Donaldson as you watch her husband step off the tennis court after losing another match to add to his streak this year. 

“If you write anything about this match, I will end your career,” Tashi says casually, because power means nothing to her, and using it is easy. She takes off her sunglasses, puts them in her purse that costs more money than your car. When she meets your eyes, there’s stoic sureness in her gaze. 

“It’s sweet that you think I only came here for you.” 

She gives you a hard look, searching you for the truth if she couldn’t trust it to come from your words. Whatever conclusion she would come up with was none of your concern – it’s true that you hadn’t come here for her, not completely. You’re here for another set of competitors, the headliners of the women’s division. If there was one thing you could use to define your career, it wouldn’t be the Donaldsons, or the Duncans – it would be your influence on women’s tennis. Your journalism through the years has put women in the spotlight of the sport, and for as long as you could you would continue the mission of keeping them there. 

But when you had seen Tashi’s husband playing in the final match of the day, and when you had seen her watching him alone at the sidelines, you couldn’t help but take advantage of it. Your comments and motives were petty, but deserved. 

You see Art begin to approach the two of you with his gym bag. “That’s my cue, isn’t it?” you ask. You try to avoid Art at all cost even after all these years, it creates a situation more awkward for you than for him. “I don’t think he needs me to lecture him, not again.” 

You begin to depart from Tashi’s side, but then you pause and turn back to her. “I’ll be in New Rochelle for the Challengers tournament in a few weeks,” you tell her. “Maybe there’s someone there your husband could beat, for a change.” 

Tashi scoffs, and you take your chance to leave before you can be joined by Art or any of the reporters or journalists following in his wake. You’ve done your work for the day, your air-conditioned hotel room is calling to you and you’re all too prepared to run to it. 

When you stand at the exit to the tennis court, you spare a look back in the direction of the Donaldsons. Tashi is immersed in giving feedback to Art as he stands in childlike submission. Her hands are planted on his shoulders, she’s looking into his eyes, and when she spares a look at the court a sense of nostalgia washes over you as you remember how it felt to watch her play. How she used to win every game she signed to compete in, how effortless her victories were. 

In a way, you miss it. You miss her. The promise of her victories that would pull you through in college, that you could look forward to watching and writing about. The memory of it sparks a flare of anger within you – four years, erased, yet still so potent in your memory. 

You turn away from the court. You push through the crowd, in your pride you stand a little taller than the rest. Against you is the only match Tashi Duncan could never win. 

You pass by the doors of the locker rooms on your way out. You know Tashi must have waited with Art in his locker room before the match started – a private locker room, you would suspect, or one they bought out for the day in a grand show of money.

You frown. How many times had you waited with Tashi in locker rooms until tournaments began, how many times had you come in after her matches to listen to her talk through them while she got ready to leave? Enough times to know you weren’t alone in reminiscing, that Tashi could escape the memories with no more ease than you could. 

THIRTEEN YEARS AGO, STANFORD. 

You resist a smile – you can’t let her win, though you can see she’s trying inexplicably hard to. She never takes it seriously when you try to interview her for assignments for your classes at Stanford. 

“I can’t put that in my paper,” you tell Tashi. “I’d get us kicked out.” 

Tashi shrugs, stepping toward you as you stand in the locker room alone together after her match. “You asked what I was thinking about during the game. I was thinking about you.” 

You roll your eyes. You lean back against the lockers, and Tashi takes advantage of it, coming up in front of you to box you in. Her eyes meet yours – her intensity is unmatched, even after she’s won every game of tennis this season that’s been thrown at her by the university. Power means nothing to her, because using it is easy. 

“You don’t believe me?” Tashi asks. Nothing goes unnoticed by her, it was brave to roll your eyes. “You’re all I think about.” 

“Tennis is all you think about.” 

Instead of correcting you, she kisses you. Your hands find her waist, and wrap around her back when you pull her closer. She consumes your thoughts, your mind, and you’re happy to keep it that way with disregard to the price you might pay for it. 

Tashi’s hands slip under your shirt. One travels up your side, under your bra. You arch into her touch, senses clouded with her – until you hear voices outside the locker room, people leaving the building. 

You pull out of the kiss as the voices fade, and immediately she’s kissing your neck. “This is a terrible idea,” you murmur half-heartedly. You want her to prove you wrong. 

“No one’s coming in, I was the last match.” 

“But they could come in.” 

“They won’t.” 

You don’t seem convinced. Tashi moves to look at you, and tilts her head. 

“Tell me you don’t want this,” she demands. You see how she craves you, she’s willing to indulge herself after her latest victory. It wouldn’t be the first time you would find yourself here, against the lockers with every intention of letting her use you in the way she wishes. She sees through your words – she knows you want this just as much as she does. 

“No,” you say, because you do want this. You’ve wanted her all morning, since you saw her warming up for her match. And even if someone were to come in and find you with her, pressed up against the lockers and at her will, it would only prove a fact you dream of everyone knowing anyway: that in every way, Tashi Duncan is yours. Audiences may celebrate her, anyone might desire her, but at the end of every day it’s you she comes home to. It’s you she wants. 

“Good,” she mutters, and presses you harder against the locker, pressing space between your legs with her knee. She kisses down your neck, and one of her hands travels below the waistband of your shorts while the other is still at your chest. Her hands are cold against the warmth of your skin, sending a chill rippling down your back. 

“Be quiet,” Tashi orders, and you nod. An empty promise, but you’ll try your best. “Good girl.” 

Her praise has you biting back a moan as her knee moves away and her hand slides between your thighs. You can’t hold her gaze, the gravity it holds. 

Your hips chase her hand as she circles your clit – your hips buck back against the lockers, and the sound echoes through the room, and your moan would accompany the noise if not muffled by Tashi’s hand over your mouth. A quick reaction on her end, she knows your body better than you do. 

“Quiet,” Tashi whispers. She presses a kiss to the edge of your jaw, below your ear. You try for a deep breath, but it’s shaky. “I’m fucking you here, and you’re moaning? Anyone could hear you. But you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You nod again, her hand still over your mouth. Your eyes fall closed, her touch burns through you like fire. It’s not enough, it’s too much, it’s everything you need and more. 

Tashi feels the pleasure building in you – it inspires her to interrupt it, to pull both of her hands from you. 

You whine in protest, watching her in curious alarm. You need this, she knows you do. 

Tashi’s hands find your hips, and she watches you closely. A sadistic sort of smile pulls at her lips, one that has you squirming, reaching for her again. Your attempts are futile, your yearning feeds her desire to starve you, push you to your limits. “You have to be patient,” she says. 

And you will be, though everything in you aches for her. You will let her win, let her pick your cards and cheat the game to end in her favor. You’re content with it – a side that is not without reward to you as Tashi lowers to her knees in front of you, and when she looks up at you, she already knows she’s won. 

THIRTEEN YEARS LATER, NEW ROCHELLE.

The sun glares down at you through the windshield, but despite its best efforts, it cannot reach you. It’s cool in your car – it combats the sweltering heat of the morning in New Rochelle as you sit waiting for the final matches to start on the second day of the Challengers tournament. You don’t want to go sit down too early, there’s no point in submitting yourself to the discomfort of hot metal seats amongst the swarm of the audience until you have to. You’re content to sit here with your eyes closed for as long as you can, you finally have a moment to yourself after the chaos of traveling to New Rochelle. 

Tapping on your window makes you jump. Your eyes snap open, and when you see who waits on the other side of your car window, you wish you’d never traveled to the tournament at all. You knew he would be here, you saw him competing yesterday, but you had successfully avoided him and had left early after the first few matches.  

You roll your window down. Patrick Zweig stares at you with the most dumbass fucking smile you’ve witnessed in years. 

“Well, look who it is!” He exclaims. He leans an arm against the top of your car, but you shove him off of it through the window. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you snap. He frowns, and you sigh. It’s been nine years since you’ve seen him in person – since you broke up with Tashi – and not a day has passed in which you can decisively say you have missed him. 

“I’m competing,” he says. 

You furrow your eyebrows. “I know that. Why are you here, talking to me?” 

Patrick shrugs. “Can’t I take a second to reconnect with an old friend?” 

“An old friend?” you ask. “I don’t think we were ever friends.” 

“Maybe not, but I know you’ll be hoping I win instead of Art this afternoon.” 

You pause. “Art Donaldson? He’s here, competing?” 

“Yeah. You know, I was told you invited him and Tashi. It’s everywhere online. That’s why I came over here, to say thank you for setting up the match. Art and I are the only ones left in the division. I wanted to wish you luck, too, with whatever it is you plan to get out of having us all here.” 

You don’t respond for a moment. Vaguely you recall inviting Tashi to the Challengers tournament a few weeks ago after Art’s loss – Maybe there’s someone there your husband could beat for a change – but you had disregarded it. You had meant the entire thing as a joke, a jab at Art’s poor tennis performance. Never would you have expected the Donaldsons to remotely consider participating in a Challengers tournament. You regret leaving early yesterday, missing their arrival at a tournament so far beneath them. You would have enjoyed witnessing their shame. 

“I didn’t set anything up,” you tell Patrick, yet you doubt the validity of your own statement. “And I’m not planning on getting anything out of it.” 

“Whatever you say. I just know Tashi wouldn’t bother with something like this for the hell of it. Either Art’s tennis has gotten really fucking bad for them to stoop to a tournament this low, or she’s using him to be here with you. Or, of course, both can be true. I’m going with both.” 

You shake your head. “Tashi has no interest in me.” 

“It’s been nine years since she left you, and she still hates you. She would probably fucking stab you if given the chance. That’s not something to take lightly with her, it takes more than resentment to hold onto something that long. Even I’m not as lucky.” 

“I’m not interested in making amends with Tashi Donaldson.” 

Patrick shrugs. He gives you a look, I don’t believe you, that you want to punch him for. You have nothing to say to Tashi, no reason to wish to see her. You went up to talk to her those weeks ago at Art’s game because you wanted to taunt her with your presence. You wanted her to see that you were successful without her, you don’t need her. 

You wanted her to see you – you realize how it sounds, and that there’s no way you would win a dispute with Patrick if your only explanation for reconnecting with Tashi is I wanted her to see that I’m better than her husband. You look back to him with a facade of nonchalance. 

You don’t know what to say, so you shift the focus back to him. “You’re going to get killed in a match against Art.” 

“How would you know? You haven’t seen me play in years.”

“I don’t need to.” 

“Wow, thanks for having so much faith in me.” 

You roll your eyes. 

Patrick’s gaze shifts to something beyond your car, something his eyes trail for a few seconds before he turns back to you. “I need to go warm up,” he announces, and backs away from your car. “Write something heroic about me to publish when I win, will you?” 

You roll up your window. You watch him disappear from the parking lot. Peace still evades you once he’s gone – that Tashi would be coming to the tournament is enough to have you nearly in hysterics. The promise of her soon arrival has adrenaline coursing through you, though the emotion accompanying it is indecipherable. 

You loathe Tashi Donaldson. You hate her husband even more. But there’s something so addictive about being around her to prove it. To prove that it was a mistake to end things with you and pursue Art shortly after, that he could never live up to you. Your fame came from success in writing and journalism, Art’s fame came from Tashi and viral videos of Art flinging tennis rackets after his losses. It felt good for you to prove your worth in contrast to his. You finally have power over them, and you have every intention of using it. 

For better or worse, you still care about Tashi’s opinion of you. For better or worse, you still care for Tashi Duncan. 

A car pulls into the empty spot next to you. The glare of the sun against it burns your eyes, leaves you with the start of a headache. 

You turn to look at the owners of the vehicle. Immediately you understand what Patrick had been spying beyond your car, and why he had been so quick to flee. 

You missed them yesterday, but you wouldn’t miss them today. You turn your car off and get out. 

“Need help carrying that?” You ask Art as he picks up his gym bag out of the trunk of the car beside yours. “I don’t want you to break any rackets.” 

“That would look good for you,” he says dryly. He shuts the trunk. “To make it seem like you’re making amends.” 

“I have nothing to make amends for.” 

He’s silent. You have two thousand words to make amends for, actually, but you’ll never be caught apologizing. You wrote an article about Art’s tennis years ago that gave you much of your fame – an article that had suggested Art was one of the worst tennis players to come out of Stanford, and that it was a shame he was using Tashi’s injury to his advantage by convincing her to coach his mediocre games. You implied that he was using her, that he was a cheater in the very least as far as tennis was concerned. 

It was never your finest moment, but you would never regret it. He deserved it, and so did Tashi for the way the two of you left your relationship. 

A car door slams. You’re joined by Tashi. In a light blue dress she’s stunning, radiant beyond comparison with the man she comes to stand by. A man she knows she cannot defend, a man beneath her. 

She gives Art a tyrannical look. He’s going to go find the locker room, he says, as if he hadn’t played here yesterday, and with a final look between you and Tashi he takes his bag and begins his way across the parking lot. 

You’re left alone with Tashi. The two of you are silent – she’s waiting for you to say something, and you’re waiting to come up with something that sounds right. 

“I saw you talking to Patrick,” Tashi says at last. You nod. “Did he tell you he asked me to coach him?” 

A smile pulls at your lips. “No, he didn’t.” 

“Good. Now you have something to write about,” she says, taking a step towards you, “when he loses. You can write about how he tried so desperately to come out on top, and you can write about who he lost to.” 

It’s not about Art anymore. It’s not about Patrick, it’s not about this tournament. It’s about you. Tashi’s reversal, her revenge. She won when she left you ten years ago, you won with your article, and Tashi Donaldson has never been one to keep a tie. She’s been keeping score for nine years in preparation for an opportunity such as this, one to set the record in her favor. 

“I’m not interested in placing bets on failed prodigies.” 

“You’re not too good for it, though.” 

“You are. At least you should have been.” 

Tashi shakes her head. “What the fuck does that mean?” 

“You know what it means,” you say, and step closer. “It should be you on that court, not them. I should be writing about you.” 

You know you’ve struck a nerve. Tashi stills. Her expression was once unreadable, but now it reveals her resentment. At you maybe, but also at fate itself, because you’re right: it should be her competing. Winning for herself and not through others. She still bears the weight of power, but it’s no longer hers to use. 

“Your husband is going to lose,” you say, and you both know it’s a lie. But you will be there when Art wins, you will be there waiting for her to prove you wrong like she’s always craved. If it is winning that will let her make amends with herself, you will be the harbinger. You will let her cheat the game just so she can win. Maybe it’s all you’ve wanted this whole time, inviting her to the Challengers tournament. 

Maybe it’s your way of making amends. 

“Any final words before the game?” You ask, in the way you always used to ask her before her matches. Any final words. You used to laugh together about how apocalyptic it sounded, and Tashi used to watch you write about her after and use her quotes for assignments for your university classes. 

Tashi remembers the phrase, you see recognition sweep over her. She watches you closely, and behind her facade you see something too reminiscent to be hatred. “Fuck you,” she says, though her voice lacks animosity. 

“Is that on the record?” 

“Yes.” 

An uncanny way of making amends, but one you would welcome all the same. 

-

Her gaze sears into you as you sit in the stands watching the match. Tashi sits on the opposite side of the court, yet the two of you are positioned with a clear view of one another throughout the game. 

The score has fluctuated throughout the match. Patrick and Art have stayed consistent in score and loss – it’s closer than you thought it would be, enough that you see Tashi’s concern growing over the end result. Art is wearing, he’s becoming tired, and you know if he quits in his exhaustion he’ll leave with another loss. The Donaldsons will lose credibility, Tashi will disappear in the eyes of the media. 

You find yourself conflicted in all ways related to the match continuing before you. You want Art to lose every match he signs for – yet the thought of Tashi going down with him haunts you. Even after all she has done to you, all you have done to her, she deserves better than any path offered.  

You pause – the match has ended, the audience stands in applause. You stand to view the court, peering over shoulders, pushing your way out of the audience. 

Art Donaldson, standing in the middle of the court. He basks in the glory given by his victory, one long suspended in anticipation for you to be witness. He looks up to find Tashi in the stands, and you watch as something unsaid passes between them. An I told you so on Art’s end, and something unsatisfied from Tashi’s. 

You don’t need to watch the rest of it. You don’t need to see Art’s self-ordered victory lap, and you don’t need to hear the speech he’ll give the reporters waiting to flock to him. You don’t need to see Tashi by his side, so you leave the court. 

You make your way through the tennis complex. Fluorescent lights stare you down, their judgment shines brighter for you. You don’t give them anything to taunt you with, keeping your expression flat. It was obvious Art would win, and in his victory Tashi has been fulfilled. 

The click of heels trails you. You spare a glance over your shoulder as you walk, and you pause. Her eyes are on you alone in the empty hall. 

“Congratulations,” you say, dull. “Do you feel better now? I see Art does.” 

“Fuck Art,” she snaps. Tashi is empowered in her pride, which has not been placed in her husband, but in herself. This is not his victory, it belongs to her. She closes the distance between you, and if you moved back any further you’d be leaning against the wall. The door to the locker room is across the hall – your memories hardly feel like your own, hardly feel like they belong just the same to the woman in front of you, but they crash through you anyway. 

“This feels familiar,” you murmur, looking up at her. You look to see if the halls are empty, but Tashi wastes no such time – she pulls you against her, her lips on yours, hunger in her touch as the two of you realize how much time you have to make up for and so little opportunity for it. Her nails dig into the back of your neck until her hand weaves into your hair, and like you always have you melt into her every desire. 

“I win,” Tashi says once she pulls away. Her eyes bear into yours, dark and unforgiving, dominating. “I fucking win.” 

There’s nothing that could prove her wrong. Power cures, if you know how to use it. 

—

—

—

i wrote this fic so many different times honestly and i kept a few of the scenes I deleted from it bc it was getting too long so if anyone wants a part 2 lmk andddd i can put something together 😔

[pocket-watcher]

I slowly opened the door. My roommates had been acting weird the past few days, but I’d shrugged it off.

There, leaning against his desk on one side of the room was Carter. Sitting on Carter’s bed, one of the few places there were to sit in the room, was Myles.

“Uh… you needed me?” I looked up at Carter. His usually playful demeanour was slightly off. I looked at Myles to see if he had any clue what was going on but he seemed like his usual smiley self.

“Yes… what do you know about hypnosis?” Carter asked.

My face felt hot, and so, I bluffed.

“Not much. I think I saw it in some TV shows?” I felt my voice go higher than normal.

His eyes lit up in challenge.

“Do you believe in it?” He asked again. Myles seemed confused too.

“Not really, I mean. It’s kinda sci-fi, right?” I laughed it off - pushing down any thoughts of he knows he knows oh god he knows-

“Maybe. What about you, Myles? Do you believe in hypnosis?” Carter had a mischievous look in his eyes.

Myles brushed it off. “Nah, of course not. It’s like flying or telekinesis or something.”

Carter locked eyes with me.

“Wanna see a cool trick?” He asked, raising his fingers to snap.

“No!” I heard my own voice ring out.

There wasn’t any fear or attempt to stop this from Myles. Just confusion. From me, however?

I’d just given myself away.

Carter snapped and Myles’ head dropped instantly, rolling back and forth before settling in the centre of his chest.

Carter grinned wickedly.

“What did you do?!” I gasped, running over to him. “Myles? Can you hear me?”

No response.

“What did I do?” Carter asked, still not moving from where he was leaning. I kept one eye on him as I shook Myles, getting more desperate. “Why, the same thing I’m about to do to you.”

The statement echoed inside my head. Fear. Dread. Excitement.

I slowly turned to look at Carter.

“Myles, stand.” Carter ordered.

Myles’ eyes opened, half-lidded, mouth agape. He stood and I backed away from him.

“Good boy.” Carter praised.

I started to panic. Shit. Do I run for the door? Both of them are faster than me. Stronger than me too, probably. Why the fuck didn’t I run more or go to the gym or-

Myles mindlessly lunged for me. I scrambled to get away but faltered as the only direction of escape was right towards Carter.

He was waiting there. Watching. Smiling. As if it was all going exactly to plan.

Myles grabbed both of my arms. I’d backed into him in fear, recoiling from Carter at the last second. I struggled but, just as I’d thought, I couldn’t break free.

For the first time during this ordeal Carter stood up and approached us. I looked away, getting a full look at Myles’ blank face looking straight ahead, no matter how much I pleaded with him to just listen to me.

“I understand.” Carter cooed. “You don’t want to submit to me straight away. You like the chase. The struggle. But I know you want to give in to me…”

I looked at him defiantly. The wrong decision. Maybe if I’d thought more about it I’d have realised that was exactly what he wanted.

Carter’s eyes were deep, swirling, drawing me in.

I’d always found him attractive, but now? Now it was like I was losing myself in his eyes. My thoughts slowed. My heartbeat quickened.

I felt my head begin to bow. I tried to look away. Really, I did. But Myles’ hand grabbed my chin and forced my eyes forward once more.

Carter looked at me proudly, as if he’d ensnared his pray. He looked hungry. Cocking his head from side to side and eyes shining as I mirrored his movements.

I felt a smile slowly form on my lips. I was drowning, sinking into his eyes. At some point Myles let go of my arms and began massaging my shoulders. Deeper, deeper. He must’ve known my legs were too weak to run.

It was all so meticulously planned, like a checklist.

Lure me in? Check.

Use Myles to stop me from leaving? Check.

Send me deeper? Check.

Make me lose focus? Check.

Staring into those gorgeous eyes? Check.

As simple and as easy as 1.. 2.. 3…

“You’re doing great. Both of you. Oh the fun we’re going to have with two of you now…”

[samkerrworshipper]

simce u asked for blurbs i have some ideas xxxx

leah x reader where reader gets her tongue or belly button pierced without telling leah

leah x reader where leah gets jealous of reader for having to do a media day vid with a touchy male player

awfc x reader where reader and kyra are just pranksters (cuz i loved sticker charts sm 🥹🥹🥹)

DONT FEEL PRESSURE TO DO THESE BTW! but if this helps then perfect 🥰🥰🥰

tongue twister | lw6 x reader blurb

it’s short, it’s sweet, it’s the only thing getting me out of my writers block lol

warnings: minor sexual implications and maybe some minor swearing

———————————————————————

It’s fairly normal routine for Leah to beeline straight towards you after any trip that includes her leaving for longer than 24 hours. Hell, the girl always seeks you out even after she’s gotten home after a two gotten home after a two hour training session but she’s always especially clingy after being on international camp.

It’s worsened significantly since her return from her acl injury, considering that for months she hardly had to leave your side.

So it’s no surprise that before Leah even takes her shoes off she’s rushing into your kitchen, her luggage bag long forgotten at the front door as she tumbled through the entrance hallway and into the kitchen.

You were seated at the island bench, typing away lazily at a work document to pass time.

Your eyes perked up as soon as the blonde entered the room, a big smile settling along your features at the sight of your rugged up Leah. It still gave you the chills that the woman standing in front of you, leah williamson, was all yours. She told you every single day that she was the lucky one in the relationship, but you couldn’t have disagreed more, leah was perfect, in every single way.

“Hiya love.”

Leah stays standing in the doorway, her eyes trained to you, a big smile splashed across her face.

“Hello Le.”

The woman closed the distance between the two of you, her tongue between her teeth as she approached.

“Missed you.”

It’s a statement, not meant for you to reply just a hanging reminder that these weeks that you spend apart are just as hard for you as it is her.

So you nod, flash her another smile before letting your eyes fall back to the bright screen in front of you.

Leah sits down on the seat beside you, her eyebrows furrowed.

“Honey.”

Her voice is slightly whiny, the voice Leah uses when she wants something that apparently should be obvious but you aren’t giving it to her for whatever reason.

“Yes, Leah?”

You look up from your screen briefly, taking in Leah’s needy face, her lips puckered directly towards you.

“Where’s my welcome home kiss?”

It was customary that whenever Leah came home you gave her a kiss, but this particular time you were a little bit tentative… for other reasons.

“Someone’s a bit needy.”

Leah reached over and pressed your laptop closed, removing the potential distraction.

“I always get a welcome home kiss… I’m waiting.”

You roll your eyes, it’s typical for Leah’s first priority to be a fucking kiss, it’s something that you’ve come to love, no matter what’s happening in either of your lives when she gets home, you always connect like this together.

“How was my day? Thanks for asking, it was great, went for a run, cooked up some food for you to meal plan this week, watched some shows, got a jumpstart on the gym plans for the team this week and hammered out a roster.”

Leah’s gives you a massive eye roll, her hand extending to the back of your neck, looking deep into your soul as her face hovers a couple of centimetres away from you.

“Baby, you know i love you, give me a kiss, please.”

It wasn’t like Leah to be so needy, you blamed it on the fact that you’d been ‘sick’ in her absence, which had her feeling especially guilty for leaving you.

“Why don’t you give me one?”

The challenge is enough to strike up Leah’s competitive nature, something you frequently take advantage of in all parts of your relationship.

Leah leant forward without any hesitation, her lips capturing yours and immediately melting against your skin. This was the part you were anxious about, but regardless you let her take dominance of the kiss, her bottom lip molding against your top one as she slowly synchronised the movement.

It didn’t take very long at all for Leah to get greedy, her tongue finding the notch between your bottom lip and top, gently prodding for an opening, something you awarded her with ease.

Leah tasted like peppermint gum and black coffee, a flavour that melted in your mouth. You were counting down the seconds, as Leah explored your mouth, curious as to how long it would take for her to notice.

4 seconds, 4 seconds of her tongue reaquanting itself with the roof of your mouth and then twisting and tangling itself with your own to discover what you knew she was bound to.

It felt like she was digging for treasure that you’d hidden.

The gasp that she breathed into you almost immediately was capturing a short little exhale of hot air directly into your mouth. Leah prodded at it twice more, checking, making sure before she disconnected herself from you, her eyebrows perched high on her forehead as she blinked a few times in surprise.

“Open your mouth.”

If you were in a more playful mood you probably would have said some kind of obscene joke, but you simply weren’t in the mood to mess around with Leah, especially with that glint in her eyes that was telling you so much and yet so little about how she was feeling.

So without much arguement at all, you opened your mind up wide, allowing Leah to examine her previously discovered treasure.

Leah took her time having a look, even daring to tilt your head back to get a better angle on your new bling.

Once she was finally done she let go of your chin, releasing you and taking a step back, so you could look at her fully.

“I’m assuming it wasn’t tonsillitis that you had then?”

You chuckled lightly, it was a good cover up if you did say so yourself, something completely believable and so simple.

“Do you not like it?”

Leah’s eyes almost bursted out of her skull, her head shaking profusely at you.

“God baby, no, I am so ready for you to show me all the ways that little thing can do, maybe i’ll get me nips done next time for some more fun.”

Leah gave you a flashy wink, a movement that had her rewarded with a big eye roll from you.

“She’s fully healed, how about we go test it out?”

Leah smirked massively, reaching for your hips and lifting you up in to her arms.

“I like your thinking.”

[angstywaifu]

Black Dahlia - 25. Give Them Hell

Summary: Squad Battles are here, and its a tight battle for first. With the final challenge laid out for them, who will come out on top?

Garrick Tavis x OC (Dahlia Aetos)

Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist | Support Me

Today had been an intense day, all of us pushed to the limit. But for our squad it had been worth it. Today Squad Battle’s had started, something we had all been looking forward to for weeks now. And honestly we’d been killing it today. We’d come second overall for the Gauntlet Sky Race, and so far we were on track to win the Sparring Challenges. The only match standing in our way was Garrick and Xaden. Xaden and Garrick who were both very shirtless as they circled each other on the mat.

It had been a few weeks since my interaction with Garrick in the gym after my challenge against Dain. We’d interacted here and there, but I was yet to be alone with him after the interaction. Though I’d caught him starting at me multiple times since then. And I couldn’t deny I’d been caught out by him when I’d found my eyes wandering to him.

I’d replayed that night in my head multiple times, mainly when he’d asked me what would happen if there was no one else in his stable. I was yet to see Garrick actually commit to it. Though it wasn’t like I was sitting outside his room or following him around to see if he was still sleeping around. I was in this strange tug of war with him. Part of me wanting to see if he would and if he had, the other part of me not wanting to care. I shouldn’t care. Maybe the part of my mind that knew my father and brother would lose their shit over it is what had caught my interest. Though I’d already toed that line before with one of the infantry cadets I’d had a short thing with prior to coming here. It honestly wasn’t as satisfying as I thought it would have been. But with the mark that extends up to his shoulder, I know I’d get a far worse reaction from them.

As if sensing my eyes, Garrick turns his head as he circles Xaden, wiping blood from his nose as his eyes lock with mine, his signature smirk gracing his lips for a few moments before focusing back on the fight.

"Did he just smirk at you?” Austin asks from next to me. She was as observant as me sometimes.

”Who?” I ask, pretending I hadn’t noticed Garrick’s smirk. She rolls her eyes at me.

“You damn well know who I’m talking about.”

”There’s plenty of girls in this room he could have been smirking at. I doubt it was me.” I reply, trying to sound indifferent as Bodhi tries to hide his laughter from next to me.

I elbow him in the side to shut him up, sending him into a coughing fit as he clutches his side. He’d been the bane of my existence since Garrick and I had started to get along to some extent. He was always the first to jump on any change in our interaction, trying to turn it into something it wasn’t.

”From what I hear he hasn’t been with another girl in a number of weeks. Not since you two started actually getting along and not yelling at each other.” She says as she elbows me lightly, catching my attention as I turn to look at her. “I hear a lot of girls aren’t happy with the new found friendship with you.”

”Add them to the list of people who already hate me.” I reply with a shrug, turning my attention to the mat just as Xaden pins Garrick to the mat, wrapping his arms around his neck as Garrick flails beneath him in an effort to get out.

For a while he resists, but after a few more moments he reaches out and taps the mat three times, the crowd roaring and cheering as Xaden wins. Bodhi whistles and cheers the loudest at his cousins win, pumping his fists into the air before draping an arm across my shoulders in a half hug. I shove him off me, pretending to be angry, but as usual he sees right through it and ruffles my hair before turning and celebrating with some of the others from our squad.

Xaden walks over and the boys jump on him immediately, clapping him on the back and congratulating him. The smile on his face seems so genuine and also out of place. I’ve seen him smirk and smile here and there over the last few months, but this one seems completely genuine. A warmth behind it I’ve never seen before. Like he’s completely happy and giving into the emotion, especially as Bodhi pulls him into a hug.

”Everyone quiet down!” Commandant Panchek calls out as he steps on to the mats, the room falling silent as we all turn to face him. “Quite an interesting out come, two squads going into the last round head to head.”

I look over to Garrick and his squad, who we are now tied with. They’d just clutched first ahead of us in the flying portion, while we had clutched the win from them in sparring. Garrick looks over as if sensing my gaze, smirking as he catches my eye.

”Your final challenge will start tomorrow, but you will plan and travel tonight to the location.” Panchek continues as we all fall silent.

I’d never seen the Squad Battles be carried out, but I knew they were mostly held on sight. But this year it seemed we were going off site, and a hum of excitement fills the room at his words.

”Half of the squads will defend a makeshift out post, while the other half will attack. Those defending will leave in two hours time to prepare their outpost and get a lay of the land. The attacking squads will remain here and travel to their starting points in the morning.” I can’t help but also join in on the excitement of the Quadrant. It’s clear they’ve never done something like this before, and everyone is keen to prove they’re the better squad.

A scribe steps forward, unravelling a scroll which most likely has the list of what squads will be paired up for this battle. Those defending will have an advantage. We will have all afternoon and evening to get a feel for our outpost and the land surrounding. Part of me hopes we’re defending, but I can’t deny there would be some satisfaction in attacking and being successful.

”And lastly, Third and Second Squad from Tail Section in Fourth Wing. Third squad will defend, Second Squad will attack.” The scribe calls out, another Scribe I hadn’t noticed rushing out to hand Xaden a scroll.

Now this would be interesting. Both squads tying for first and well ahead of the others going head to head. Essentially whoever won would be victorious. And seeing as Garrick and Xaden were best friends, they were both going to be highly competitive.

”You have your assignments. Defending squads, you will leave within the next two hours. Attacking squads, you will remain here till then.” Panchek announces before turning and walking from the room, the Scribes rushing behind him.

Xaden turns to us a sinister smirk on his face as he clutches the scroll. “Flight field in one hour. Lets give them hell.”

@imtoanonymousforyou @simplyme-fornow @omalmal @lalaluch @wolfbc97 @leptitlu @fullmoon-94 @the-fandom-ness @fan-of-many-bands @awkardnerd @heeseungthel0ml @acourtofsmutandstarlight @fairchild06 @freyagallileaevans @pit-and-the-pen @hannraumari @elliot-rain @thestarseternaal @stupid-and-contagious01

[mysticworks]

Still I rise ~ Lewis Hamilton

Reader comforting Lewis, after a disappointing qualifying session.

Word Count 1.2k

Genre: Angst

------------------------------------------------------------

His helmet lay strawn on its side, as if tossed to the floor with anger and frustration. 

The changing room door was ajar, the sliver of light from outside piercing a fraction of the darkness within.

From it, you could only just make out the flash of yellow - what seemed to be Lewis’ shoes - the neon, bright in the darkness.

The moment you’d seen his post qualifying interview, you’d known; the sadness in his perfectly practised smile, the tension in his furrowed brow, the unfocused eyes as he spoke of his session to the reporter questioning him.

“At some point you start wondering if it's the car or just you, y’know.” 

He’d shrugged his shoulders in an attempt to diffuse his answer to the question, the biting on his lip holding in a tremour only you could notice.  

After a viciously challenging start to the season, you’d seen the confidence that Lewis usually carried himself with, slowly begin to deflate, and this practice session in Japan seemed to be the absolute breaking point for his positive spirit. 

The situation was taxing, understandably, and the Mercedes crew had spent much of the season heads down, working on new improvements to make - yet somehow, progress seemed slow.

Lewis seemed to be blaming himself much more these days, longer hours in the gym, harsher dieting; absolute eternities he’d spend rewatching clips of his race and memorising data the analytics team sent across.

He was disappointed in himself. Torn apart from self-doubt and worry. 

And now, post qualifying interview, he seemed to have gone missing. 

You’d spent the past however long looking from him; pacing the entirety of the paddock to the Mercedes garage, even peeking into the press conference green room where you’d bumped into a very confused Max- having to squeak a quick “sorry,” before rushing back on your mission to hunt Lewis down. 

Yet here he was, confining himself to the darkness of his changing room, burying himself in wavering self -confidence.

Sucking in a deep breath, you took a ginger step towards the door, lightly giving it a quick knock to signal your entrance. The light flooded in from outside, and from the doorway you caught sight of Lewis - your heart crumbling as you took in the sight of him.

Oh you poor, poor thing.

He was sat on the floor in the far corner of the room curling into himself. Head in his hands, his knees drawn up to his chest. You saw his body tremble in a tremendously suppressed sob, one you could only wonder how long he’d been holding in.

It didn’t take you a second longer to reach him, falling to the floor in front of him. It was then you noticed just how violently his hands were shaking, and you reached out, tenderly taking them into your own.

Lewis responded to your touch immediately, his head lifting to meet your eyes. 

In an attempt to soothe him, you rubbed circles into the back of his hands, eyes locking with his bloodshot ones.

You broke the silence first, in a whisper, soft but firm. “You’re going to be okay.”

He gave you a tight smile through his tears - sad and forced. “I’ve lost it. I’ve lost it all.”

His voice gave him away, cracking 2 words into his sentence and his eyes filled with fresh tears. They spilled out onto his face and he tore his hands away from yours to wipe them away.

Lewis had always been the type to keep his emotions in control - and this time he’d reached breaking point.

“Lewis,” you reached out for his face, forcing his eyes to meet yours again. There was defeat in them. Like the hope and passion to fight for wins had been sucked out and replaced with tonnes and tonnes of self-doubt. 

“You haven’t lost anything.”

Rubbing the tears off his cheeks you pulled him into an embrace, and in moments his arms were tight around you, his head resting on your shoulder and soaking it as he let out the frustration, the pressure, the anger, the pain.

“It’s not the car. It’s me.”

You shook your head, determined to let him know that this was no fault of his own. He curled further and further into you, and you held him tighter, cradling his quivering body in your arms in an attempt to take the pain away. 

Lewis had always been physically bigger than you being the athlete he was; taller, bulkier, stronger. 

Yet in your arms he seemed so small. So vulnerable. As if needing your protection to shield him from scrutiny. 

You rubbed his back, shushing him with words of affirmation. 

He was stronger than this. He was a fighter. He was a champion. And that's what he needed to know. 

How he’d conquered years of championships and podiums. How he’d brought it home on only 3 wheels at Silverstone. How he’d stolen the show in his rookie years, being only a point behind the season winner. 

But also how he was so much more than just a formula one driver. 

A motivator, justice seeker. An inspiration, role model for thousands and thousands if not millions. Someone passionate to right wrongs, unafraid to condemn the world for its immorality. 

“One failure doesn’t set you back Lewis,” His sobs had quietened down, and he gave a small sniffle in reply, “A bad qualifying isn’t a bad race. A bad race isn’t a bad season. A bad season isn’t a bad career.” 

You wanted him to see what so many saw in him. What you saw in him. His eloquence, charisma, humility. 

And so you tightened your hold against him, giving him a gentle squeeze on his palm, to let him know, it would all be okay.

A small smile erupted on your face when you felt him give a small squeeze back. One that showed he acknowledged what you’d said. 

You pressed a kiss against his forehead, before leaning against it so your breaths intermingled. “You’re a fighter, Lewis. So get up and fight for this.”

—---------------—----------------------------------------

Race day:

Lewis zipped up his race suit, adjusting his ear piece before picking up his helmet and striding towards his car. 

He felt a new found confidence surge into him today - his breakdown less than 24 hours prior to this race lifting a huge weight off his chest he didn't know he'd been holding onto. 

It was as if his faith had been restored, by someone letting him know that it was okay to fall. It was okay to hit hurdles, as long as he picked himself up and fought through it. 

Lewis found your face in the crowd of engineers - not that you'd been hard to find - you stuck out like a sore thumb in the sea of Mercedes team uniforms.

“Ready?” You let warmth fill your eyes, closing the gap between you until the chaotic bustle of the paddock drowned away - becoming no more than a background buzz. 

“Ready.” Lewis’ voice was low, yet it held certainty. You rested your palms against his solid torso, eyes locking with his, through the visor of his helmet.  

There were no signs of yesterday's doubts; no question of ability; the tears of vulnerability dissolved from the fire that set ablaze in his orbs of gold. 

He was ready to make a statement.

Lewis flashed you a smile, cocking his head to the side with the charisma you'd fallen so in love with.  

“I am a fighter, and I will fight for this. I am a fighter, so I will rise.”