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scoonsalicious · 3 days

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7.1 Major

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, discussion of feelings, nudity, mentions of some sexy stuff.

Word Count: 3.2k

Previously On...: Idk; it's been so long. Who can even remember? Just kidding-- Bucky blew off his plans for a 'friend-date' with Lily to talk to you about what happened that morning.

A/N: And we're back!

Hi, besties! I confess to not getting as much writing done as I had hoped on my break-- cursed writer's block! Then, last night, I ended up scrapping most of the writing I did do and started over, lol. However, I've got a bit of a back log again, and a four day weekend starting tonight, and now that I feel reinvigorated with the story, we'll be able to resume our regularly scheduled program!

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

You pulled up to the destination Bucky had sent you as dusk was falling. Langston Park. A weird spot for dinner, you thought, but you’d double-checked the location with Bucky, and he’d assured you that you were in the right place.

Glancing at your map, you noticed that the pin he’d sent you was a little ways up a trail. You parked your truck and double checked your bag to make sure you had your pepper spray at the ready– not that you were afraid that Bucky was going to harm you– just that, a woman alone in the woods at dusk? You could never be too careful. It actually went against your better judgment to go in there at all, but you trusted that Bucky wouldn’t lead you into danger.

If I do come across something unexpected, you thought to yourself, please let it be the bear.

You cautiously made your way up the trail, using the nearly useless flashlight feature on your phone to keep yourself from tripping over anything. It was difficult adjusting your eyesight from the bright light of the map you were following on your phone screen to the darkness gathering around you. After you’d been walking for about fifteen or so minutes, you had to turn left to go off-trail, cutting off your access to the dwindling daylight even more. You gently pushed branches of leaves aside as you made your way through the woods, until you noticed a soft, orange glow coming from up ahead of you.

When you broke through the tree line, your breath caught in your throat. The pin Bucky had sent you had led you to a small clearing nestled along a stream, with a melodious waterfall cascading down into a pool that held a handful of floating lanterns. The entire clearing was lit with hanging lanterns that gently swayed from the branches of the surrounding trees, washing the entire space with low, warm light. Spread out on the ground was a large blanket with some throw pillows, extra blankets, and a picnic hamper. And in the center of the clearing, crouched Bucky. He’d appeared to have just finished setting up his phone to stream some soft music. The entire tableau was the most romantic thing you’d ever seen.

“Hey,” you called softly as you turned your flashlight off, dropped your phone into your bag, and made your way into the clearing.

Bucky stood and turned to face you, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Major, hi,” he breathed. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“Did you do all this for me?” you asked in awe as you looked around, taking in your surroundings. You could feel a lump form in the back of your throat, and you had to actively tell yourself not to cry. No one had ever done anything so absolutely romantic for you in your entire life. Not once had Connor ever made a fraction of the effort Bucky had made tonight.

Bucky’s face took on a look of panic. “Is it too much?” he asked, nervously glancing around as though he were trying to judge it anew through your eyes to see what you might find wrong with it.

You smiled, reaching for his hand to offer a squeeze of reassurance. “It’s lovely,” you said. “No one has ever done something so amazing for me, Bucky. Thank you.”

Bucky visibly relaxed at your words. “Figured I owed you something special, to make up for this morning.” He motioned to the blanket, guiding you to sit down with him. “I brought dinner,” he said, opening up the basket. Inside were several subs, a couple of bottles of lemonade, and a few bags of chips. “Sweet onion teriyaki chicken with cucumbers, extra pickles, and red wine vinegar,” Bucky said, handing you a sandwich. You held the sandwich to you for a moment, your chest filling with warmth at the fact that he’d remembered your offhand comment about your favorite sandwich.

You put the wrapped sub down on the blanket in front of you. “Could we talk before we eat?” you asked him. “I’ve got some things I want to clear up first.”

Bucky swallowed and nodded, putting down the sandwich he had gotten for himself and looked up at you through his lashes. “Go ahead, sugar,” he said.

You took a breath. “I get why you didn’t tell Lily about me,” you said slowly. “It’s new, and we’re not even really anything. So, what’s there to tell her, really? Plus, she and I didn’t really have the best first impressions of one another, so that part, I understand. What I don’t get is why you felt you needed to lie about being out on a date at all.” Bucky opened his mouth to say something, but you weren’t finished.

“I can’t even begin to tell you how many calls I got toward the end of my marriage that went just like the one you had with Lily last night. All the times Connor assured me he was just “out with the boys,” when, in reality, he was with his mistress. So, I guess, hearing you tell Lily you were with Sam for a ‘guys’ night’ was kind of triggering.” You sighed, heaving your shoulders. “I need to know, and I need you to be honest with me: Is there something going on between the two of you? Is that why you felt the need to lie to her about being out with me?”

Bucky shook his head vehemently and made a face of mild disgust. “Major, no– there’s never been anything between us,” he said. “I won’t lie, Lily is very important to me– as a friend– she was the first new one I made in almost eighty years, and she stuck by me when I was going through a really difficult time in my life, when I really hadn’t given her much of a reason to, but in terms of anything romantic, or sexual? Never.”

You tilted your head, considering his words. He seemed sincere, though if you had been a good judge of when a man you had feelings for was lying to your face, your marriage to Connor would probably only have been a fraction as long as it was.

“Alright,” you said, choosing in the moment to believe him, “so, if you’re as close as you say, and there’s nothing romantic between the two of you, it makes it even stranger that you lied to her about being out on a date last night.”

Bucky looked down, toying with a loose thread on the blanket you both sat on. “At the time,” he said, not looking up at you, “not telling her the truth seemed like a good idea. It didn’t really cross my mind that I was lying… more like ‘just not telling her the truth yet.’ I was really looking forward to seeing you again, doll,” he told you, his eyes now rising to meet yours, “ and telling Lil… well, it felt like I was needlessly complicating things."

You let out an exasperated sigh. “None of that explains to me the why behind it, Bucky,” you said. “Why would telling your best friend complicate things?

“I just didn’t want her getting involved in our business before the two of us even knew what our business was,” he said, as if that made everything clear.

“But, shouldn’t your best friend knowing your business be, I dunno, a good thing?” you asked him in frustration, wanting to reach out and shake him. You felt like you were going around in circles. “Shouldn’t she be happy for you?”

“Of course!” he exclaimed. “Of course she’ll be happy for me. It’s just…” He heaved a heavy sigh. “Lily’s always had… opinions about every girl I’ve ever dated, and she’s never made it a point of keeping them to herself. I mean, most of the time, she ends up being spot on, and the relationship flops, but this…” he moved to place his hand over yours where it rested on the blanket, “with you? I wanted to enjoy it before she makes those opinions known.”

You turned your hand over and squeezed his. The full truth of the situation had clicked into place for you at his words, and the realization brought both intense clarity and an all too familiar heartache. “All my life, I’ve been… impulsive,” you told him. “I jump head first into things, without thinking about the consequences. It’s how I got into the Army, ended up with Connor, hell, even how I started my business. Sometimes it works out, but…” you heaved a sigh, “usually it tends to blow up spectacularly in my face. I don’t want this to blow up in my face, Bucky.”

The confusion in Bucky’s face as he took in your words was evident. “What are you saying, doll?” he asked.

You took a moment, considering your next words carefully. “I… I really like you,” you began as a wide grin broke out across his face. “Probably more than I should for a person I just met a few days ago, but the truth of it is, I’ve seen this story play out before, and I’m not sure I could handle opening my heart to you, only to have you leave me for the best friend you swore I’d never have to worry about.”

Bucky took both your hands in his own, a look of desperation crossing his face. “Sugar,” he said, then cleared his throat. “Major. I don’t know how many other ways I can tell you that I just don’t see Lily that way,” he said. “Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever seen any dame the way I see you. You’ve got me feeling all kinds of ways I’ve never felt before.”

His words were sweet, and you felt your heart soften, but you had to remind yourself: you’d heard words just like it before. “Look,” you said, pulling your hands away from his, “maybe you don’t , but it seems pretty obvious, even as an outsider, that her feelings for you are stronger than just friendship. I don’t want to lose my heart to you if you’re going to realize that you belong with someone you’ve known for years, instead of a one-night stand that went on for too long.”

Bucky reeled back as if you’d slapped him and closed his eyes in a grimace. “That is never,” he began, a pained expression clouding his handsome face, “ever all that you could be to me, Major.” When he opened them again, his eyes were boring into yours, the blue gone cobalt in the growing night. “I’m not going to wake up one day and decide I want to be with Lily. I’ve had four years in close proximity with her for those feelings to develop, and they never have. I honestly can’t see why that would change, especially now that I’ve met you.”

God, you wanted to believe him, but you’d already played this role and it had nearly destroyed you, despite how nonchalantly you acted about it. “Does she know that, Bucky? Because, to be completely honest with you, on the night we met, both Nat and Wanda advised me not to get involved with you, because of her.”

His face blanched at the admission. “What?! Why would they say that?”

“They warned me,” you clarified, hoping that you weren’t betraying any trust with your new friends and only feeling mildly bad that you were divulging Lily’s secret, “that Lily wasn’t a ‘girl’s girl;’ she was a ‘Bucky’s girl,’ only, you didn’t know it.”

“But she–” he spluttered, “she– we– she never– she’s never said anything. She’s never acted…” He was at a loss for words, and you could tell that the information had genuinely taken him by surprise. Despite what Lily may feel for him, it didn’t seem like he ever suspected it.

“Maybe I should leave you to think that over,” you said, making motions to start standing up. “Thanks for the sandwich.” Before you could even get your legs under you, though, Bucky reached out a hand and grabbed your wrist.

“Wait!” he exclaimed, gently tugging you back down to the blanket. “Why are you leaving?”

You shrugged, confused. “I figured you’d want some time,” you told him. “Decide what you want to do about her feelings.”

Bucky looked at you like you were crazy. “Doll, in what world do any feelings Lily may have about me concern how I feel about you?”

“I just assumed…” you began, but he interrupted you.

“Assumed what? That just because she’s got a crush on me, I’m gonna ignore this thing between you and I? That I’m gonna develop feelings for her, outta nowhere, I might add, and just forget all about you?”

You shrugged your shoulders sheepishly. “Yeah, actually,” you said.

“You idiot,” Bucky said, shaking his head with a gentle smile and a soft laugh. He put a hand behind your head and pulled you forward until your foreheads were leaning together. “I sincerely mean this when I tell you I don’t give a fuck about Lily’s feelings,” he said.

You both widened your eyes at the perceived callousness of the statement.

“Fuck,” Bucky backpedaled, backing his head away from yours a little “that came out soundin’ awful, and definitely not how I meant it.” He ran a hand nervously through his hair. “Of course I care about her feelings– she’s my friend– I just mean… shit. Just, obviously, I feel bad if me not reciprocatin’ hurts her, but there’s nothin’ I can really do for it, y’know? Because it doesn’t change my feelings, and it’s not gonna change my feelings.

And shit, you believed him.

“You know what?” Bucky said, as if an idea had suddenly come to him. “Here.” He reached under the collar of his shirt and pulled out his military dog tags. Lifting them over his head, he slowly draped them around your neck.

“Bucky,” you said, fingering the embossed metal, “what…?”

“Think of it this way,” he said, “you, of all people, know what these tags mean to a soldier. Since I came outta cryo, came back to myself, not a single person has worn them, ‘cept for me. I’ve had girlfriends ask– hell, Lily’s asked– but it never felt right.” He brushed a strand of hair back from where it had fallen into your face when you’d looked down at the tags. “But with you, it feels right. So, if you’re afraid that I’m gonna up and decide that I’d rather be with Lily, or fuck, anyone else but you, I want you to look at those tags and remember that you’re the one I’m picking, Major.”

You swallowed. You did know what those tags meant. Commitment. Trust. An unbreakable bond. Wordlessly, you reached around to the back of your neck, unclasping the chain that rested against your skin.

Bucky watched your motions carefully. “Yeah,” he said, licking his lips nervously, “that was probably me moving too fast, huh? I get it– you don’t have to wear them if—”

“Shut up,” you said gently, as you removed your own dog tags from around your neck and fastened them around his. “I don’t need to wear two sets, and your neck looked so lonely without one.”

Bucky held up one of the tags so that he could examine it, and you caught the moment he registered your name and information catching the candlelight.

“Sugar,” he said, his voice cracking on the nickname.

“You’re not the only one making a choice, Bucky,” you assured him.

He leaned in closer, taking your lips with his own, the kiss filled with the fire you’d come to associate with him, and only him.

When you pulled apart, he rested his forehead against yours, and you could make out the glassy sheen of unshed tears in his eyes. “This is perfect. Thank you.”

You admired the way they hung from his neck for a moment, and were overcome with the sudden urge to touch them. You placed a hand over the dog tags, your name, now resting over his pounding heart. Bucky cupped his own hand over yours, pressing it against his chest.

“These look awfully handsome on you, Sergeant,” you told him with a soft smile. Bucky let out a low groan and you looked up at him, eyes questioning. “What is it?” you asked him.

Bucky’s face turned bashful and he shook his head. “Nuh uh,” he said. “Forget it.”

Oh, you weren’t going to have any of that. “Come on, Bucky,” you said, playfully poking him in his rock hard stomach. “You can tell me anything. I’m wearing your tags now,” you added in a singsong voice. “We’re practically going steady.”

Bucky’s gaze on you darkened, and he tugged at his lip with his teeth. “Okay then, if you’re sure you really wanna know.” You mirrored him, biting your lip and nodded eagerly. Of course you wanted to know what was going through his head to cause him to make such sexy sounds. “Just imagining what you’d look like wearing nothing but the tags, sugar,” he responded, his voice a low, husky whisper. “Bet it’d be the prettiest thing I ever saw.”

Well, if you weren’t going to take that as an invitation. Raising an eyebrow in his direction, you got up so that you were standing before him. Bucky moved forward, as if he were going to follow you up, a question ready on his lips, but you leaned down and gently pushed him back to the blanket, so he was propping himself up on his elbows.

Not once breaking eye contact, you slid your hands to the hem of your shirt, slowly dragging it up, over your head before tossing it to the side. Next, you toed off your shoes while you worked the buttons of your jean shorts, letting them slide down your thighs until you were standing in just your balconette and panties. You didn’t even care that you were in the middle of a public park and you were undressing for a man. All that mattered was that you were undressing for this man, and in the moment, you were willing to do almost anything he asked of you.

Bucky’s eyes roamed your body from head to toe and back again, but you weren’t finished. He’d said ‘nothing but the tags,’ after all. Reaching behind your back, you skillfully unhooked your bra, but didn’t pull it off, instead letting it sit on your chest while you slowly shimmined your panties down your thighs and kicking them off to join the rest of your discarded clothes. Bucky’s breath hitched as he took in your near nakedness, and you almost giggled at the visible tenting taking place in his jeans.

Clutching the bra to your chest, as if you were shy, you slowly got down on your knees and crawled up Bucky’s thighs. Finally, you let the bra fall away, and Bucky’s wide eyes never left your breasts as he licked his lips. You palmed him through the fabric of his pants.

“I believe I once said something about wanting this down my throat,” you told him with a wicked smile.

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justlemmeadoreyou · 3 days

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4. heat of the kitchen (restaurant owner!harry x chef!reader)

(part 1 here) | (part 2 here) | (part 3 here)

summary: the day of the gala, but something unexpected happens, leaving you a responsibility that could either make or break your career.

words: 5k

warnings: fluff, a hint of angst.

You had just started falling into a restless sleep when your phone buzzed loudly on the nightstand, making you jump awake in surprise. Squinting your blurry eyes at the bright screen, you felt a prickle of worry when you saw the time - 4:17am. This couldn't be good news at this hour.

Sure enough, it was Harry's number flashing on the caller ID. With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you swiped to answer and brought the phone to your ear. "Hello?"

"[Y/N], hey..." Even through the tinny distortion of the phone line, you could hear the grimness and exhaustion in Harry's voice. "Look, I...there's been an emergency with my family back home. My mom is really sick and not doing well."

You sat up straight in bed now, any remaining grogginess from sleep instantly swept away by a crushing wave of dismay. You listened in silence as he explained in brief phrases about needing to get on the next available flight to go back to New York right away. He said he wasn't sure when he'd be able to return to Chicago.

"I just didn't have a chance to let you know about this earlier," Harry's low, raspy voice crackled with regret. "I've already spoken with Thomason to take over running things at the event today, but...I'm so sorry, [Y/N]. The timing of this could not possibly be worse."

"No no, please don't even worry about that right now," you interjected quickly, your mind already whirling with the huge implications of what he was saying. Today was the extremely important Martin gala event - without Harry there to oversee the execution of his highly complicated, avant-garde centrepiece dish, the whole thing could spectacularly fall apart in front of all the big-name food critics and chefs of Chicago.

And yet...none of that professional stuff mattered at all compared to the intensely personal crisis your mentor was going through right now. "Is everything...I mean, is your mom going to be okay?" you asked hesitantly, not wanting to pry too much but deeply concerned.

Harry let out a shaky sigh that made your chest clench with empathy for what he must be feeling. "I don't know yet. They're running some medical tests on her this morning to get more answers, but...it doesn't look good so far based on what they've told me."

There was a heavy pause before he added in a rough, strained voice, "Looks like I've got another big battle ahead of me here."

Despite the gravity of the situation, you felt a pang of fondness at those terse words that sounded so quintessentially like Harry - tackling this heart-wrenching personal turmoil with the same determination and head-on approach he always brought to challenges in the kitchen.

"I'll be okay," Harry stated in a tone that made it clear he didn't want or expect any sympathy or reassurance from you about it. "Right now, all I need is for you to promise me that the gala event today is going to be a complete success no matter what else is happening. Can you handle being fully in charge of running the whole operation and making sure my vision for the centerpiece dish comes out perfectly?"

He didn't need to go into more detail - you knew full well the enormity of the responsibility he was asking you to take on here. Tremors of nerves joined the waves of sympathy and concern roiling through you at the weight of this task. But you didn't hesitate at all before answering.

"You have my word, Chef," you vowed solemnly. "I'll treat this dish and event with the same intense, laser-focused commitment you've been drilling into me from day one - and I absolutely won't let you down."

This time, Harry's answering exhale held the faintest trace of pride and...something more you couldn't quite put your finger on. "I know you won't let me down. I'm gonna have to go take care of things now, but I'll call again later to check in on how preparations are going over there. In the meantime, just stay calm, stay focused, and execute everything exactly like we've practiced over and over again these past weeks."

"I will. And Harry--" you hesitated momentarily before plunging ahead. "I really hope...well, just please take care of yourself too, okay? Sending you all my best wishes for your mom to get through this."

There was a beat of surprised silence before he responded in a gruff but sincere voice, "Yeah...thanks, [Y/N]. I appreciate that."

With that, the call clicked off abruptly, leaving you alone amid the predawn stillness with nothing but the immense weight of the trust and responsibility Harry had placed on your shoulders.

This was by far the biggest professional challenge you'd ever faced in your culinary career. Not just having to pull off executing Harry's avant-garde, innovative, wildly complex dish to absolute perfection under the intense scrutiny of the biggest names and players in Chicago's food world - but doing so while your mentor battled a hugely serious personal crisis unfolding all the way across the country in New York. Just the thought of it made your stomach churn with anxious adrenaline and nerves.

Still...despite the daunting nature of this task, you couldn't help but feel a sense of opportunity arising as well. This was an unexpected and unprecedented chance for you to truly prove yourself at the highest possible level, to rise up and show you had the skills and mental toughness to handle the most intense culinary pressure situations. You'd worked too damn hard, invested too many long hours of sweat and failures in kitchens everywhere to let this monumental opportunity slip through your fingers.

A feeling of steely resolve settled over you as you climbed out of bed and began methodically getting ready to start your day. No matter what curveball life had thrown at Harry derailing his own ability to participate, your role and mission remained unchanged - you made a solemn vow to him, and you utterly refused to let him down when he was counting on you most in this dire moment. This gala would go off flawlessly, the vision and game plan he'd meticulously drilled into you executed with precise mastery down to every last detail. Abject failure was simply not an option today.

***

By the time the first pale streaks of dawn began filtering through your windows, you were fully dressed and shoving a high-protein bar into your mouth as fuel while heading out the door to the event venue. Despite the early hour, there was already a palpable buzz and energy of activity when you arrived, crews of staffers and organizers darting around in a highly choreographed frenzy as they put the very final touches and preparations in place.

You spotted Thomason's towering, intimidating form immediately - the harsh sous chef resembled a military general marshaling the troops, barking out orders and keeping everything flowing in an orderly yet intense manner. Straightening your spine, you crossed over purposefully to greet him directly. Thomason's eyes flicked over you appraisingly before giving a short, sharp nod of acknowledgment. "Good, you're here. Let's get you situated and start running through all your station assignments."

Without any further preamble or wasted words, he turned sharply on his heel and strode off at a brisk pace, clearly expecting you to fall into step directly behind him with no delays. Suppressing a resigned sigh, you did just that, matching his stride as Thomason immediately launched into a rapid-fire rundown and delegation of every single responsibility that would fall under your purview for the entire day.

It was...honestly, a staggering amount of crucial tasks and oversight duties to absorb all at once this early in the morning, especially given the giant extenuating circumstance and crisis situation hanging overhead with Harry's absence. But Thomason pressed on in his typical brusque, no-nonsense manner.

Apparently Harry had already briefed the imposing, burly sous chef on the pertinent details of the personal situation he was dealing with, as evidenced by Thomason's uncharacteristic patience whenever you had to pause to fully digest certain instructions or ask for any clarification on assignments. But the gruff kitchen veteran otherwise made no comforting allowances, simply conveying the huge pile of duties you'd need to stay on top of from morning prep straight through to the evening's high-stakes dinner service.

By the time he finally finished laying out the overwhelming laundry list of tasks you were accountable for, a tenuous sense of control had settled over your earlier panic and worries. You could do this. Logistically speaking, it would be the most daunting and high-pressure culinary challenge you'd ever faced by far - but thanks to all the intense training and preparation Harry had put you through, you genuinely felt as ready as you could possibly be. All that remained now was keeping your head down and executing flawlessly with the same pinpoint focus and work ethic he'd instilled in you through those grueling practice runs.

With a grim nod of determination, you turned and started overseeing your assigned kitchen crew in setting up the intricate series of mise en place stations that would be required for pulling off Harry's avant-garde, wildly complex centerpiece dish. All around you, the buzz of frantic activity swelled as area after area of the massive venue was brought online in final preparation for the rapidly approaching arrival times of guests and participants.

Though you kept waiting for the spike of nerves and adrenaline to hit, surprisingly, a strange sense of calm numbness had instead descended over you - the kind that often surfaced in the middle of an intense, all-hands-on-deck dinner rush back at the restaurant. In these do-or-die, make-it-or-break-it kinds of situations, there simply was no spare mental bandwidth available for anything beyond the critical task directly in front of you in that very moment. Distracting thoughts and nerves got shunted aside as survival instincts took over.

And just like that, you lost yourself in the soothing, almost meditative rhythm of prep work, falling into that laser-focused state of dicing, slicing, arranging each individual ingredient component with painstaking, meticulous care according to the detailed specifications Harry had drilled into you over and over. At one point, you absently accepted a bottled water from one of your line cooks with a murmured thanks, but otherwise operated on auto-pilot.

You weren't entirely sure how much time had elapsed before Thomason's gruff bark of "Ten minutes!" roused you from your intense, trance-like focus. All around, your crew instantly kicked into an even higher gear, ferrying the completed mise en place components to the designated plating stations in an efficient flurry of motion. You barely registered Thomason sidling up next to you with an evaluating look on his imposing features.

"You did decent prep work so far, kid," he acknowledged in a tone of voice that was only marginally less dismissive than his usual demeanor. "Now let's see if you can actually plate this bastard of a complicated dish without totally screwing the pooch."

With that uniquely Thomason-style pep talk, he gave your shoulder a clap and then strode off to take his place at the all-important expediting position for the evening's service, leaving you warmed by the backhanded compliment. Coming from the notoriously harsh and miserly-with-praise Thomason, those words were basically the equivalent of an ecstatic rave.

Any boost of confidence was welcome at this point, as the first wave of elite guests began trickling into the dining area right on schedule. You could feel the atmosphere in the room shifting, charging with buzzing energy and anticipation as these influential culinary figures saw the artfully designed space, flipped through the rundown of tonight's prix fixe menu, and speculated about what boundary-pushing creation Harry had surely concocted for his centrepiece auction dish.

Your own adrenaline kicked into high gear as you took your place at the head plating station, flanked by your hand-picked crew who would assist in the extremely intricate assemble of all the individual components coming together. A hush fell over the kitchen as you exchanged looks with your team, giving a final nod of readiness.

"First courses..." came the terse callout from the expo line. And with that, you immediately snapped into focus, hands moving with the precision drilled into them through countless practice runs as you began plating the initial courses.

From there, the entire high-stakes evening blurred into a cyclone of intense concentration and rapid-fire execution, broken only by the occasional smattering of polite applause from the dining room as each new course made its debut to apparent delight. But you remained steadfastly disengaged from all of that, shutting it out entirely as you moved with economical grace from one fastidiously assembled plate to the next in a state of total flow.

You were aware on some level of Thomason periodically prowling the line, sharp eyes scrutinizing every last component with the intensity of a decorated drill sergeant. But his presence was almost soothing in a way, a low-key affirmation that you and your crew were hitting every lofty mark thus far.

Finally, after what felt like both a grueling endurance marathon and the naturally seamless completion of a singular, continuous motion...it was time. All the other courses had been executed flawlessly, clearing the way for the pièce de résistance - Harry's avant-garde centerpiece dish that would cap off the evening. You took a deep, steadying breath as the first calls came in from the expo line.

"Fire one centerpiece!"

Your hands moved with the precision of a surgeon, each practiced motion flowing seamlessly into the next as you began assembling the first plate of the showstopper course. Around you, your crew worked in the same laser-focused unison, handling each individual component with utmost care and attention to detail.

Despite the mounting pressure with every new order fire, that strange sense of calm numbness persisted. There was no mental bandwidth to spare on anything extraneous - your entire world had contracted to these series of sequential tasks laid out before you, each one flowing naturally into the next like a continuous stream.

Plating tweezers arranged the final delicate pour of herb-infused olive oil spheres with the same singular focus as you squeezed the pipette to apply the perfectly calibrated dot of acidic reduction. Not a single movement was wasted, not a component out of place as you slid the finished avant-garde masterpiece across to the expo line for final approval before heading out to the dining room.

"Looked good from here, kid," Thomason's gruff voice sounded in your ear amidst the orchestrated chaos, startling you slightly. You blinked, barely registering the stocky sous chef's towering presence overseeing your shoulder before turning your attention immediately back to the next set of hands firing.

On and on it went in that same relentless yet steady cadence, each nouveau plate a pristine reflection of the focus, intensity, and cumulative skill that had been honed into you over months of Harry's rigorous training. Sweat beaded along your hairline, apron dampening as you moved with increasing speed and efficiency under the mounting pressure of continuous fires.

You were only vaguely aware of the soft crashing waves of polite applause rolling in from the nearby dining room each time a new creation hit the tables. Your ears were trained to more important sounds - the sharp callouts from expo, the curt exchanges between yourself and your crew attempting to maintain the incredible pace.

At one point, you registered Thomason's heavy tread beside you once more, his grizzled voice pitched low to be heard over the controlled pandemonium. "Pretty damn flawless so far, I'll give you that. But don't let your foot off the gas now, we still got a ways to go yet."

A simple grunt of acknowledgment was all you could spare in response as you plated two more centerpiece dishes in rapid succession, sliding them across for inspection. Thomason made a noise of begrudging approval before turning away, freeing you to tunnel-vision once more.

Swaying slightly on your feet from the physical toll and intense focus, you blinked away the spotties at the edge of your vision. There was simply no other choice - failure was not an option, not after everything you and Harry had invested into this critical moment.

How much time had elapsed, you couldn't say. All you knew was the continuous cycle of order fires, the increasingly efficient rhythm of your movements and those of your crew. The end goal of seeing this groundbreaking creation delivered to the last diner with the same polish as the first lone plate.

It was only when the final callout came over the line that reality slowly bled back in around the edges. "Last one, centerpiece! Fire for the panel..."

The clatter of your toolkit was shockingly loud in the relative stillness as you began assembling that climactic plate with even more painstaking care than before. Every component was a masterstroke, each paso doble between you and your crew unfolding in step.

You barely registered Thomason's presence hovering nearby, posture radiating tension and scrutiny, as you slid the final centerpiece across for his inspection. A short eternity seemed to pass as the steely-eyed veteran examined the plate with unsparing intensity from all angles.

At last, he gave a single deferential nod before calling out the fire to the dining room. "Chef's centerpiece...walking!"

A rousing swell of applause rolled back from beyond the partition as you straightened up, only now allowing the descending sense of accomplishment to wash over you fully. It was done - Harry's groundbreaking, avant-garde vision had been executed to utter perfection.

The surrounding kitchen area seemed to slowly reanimate as the rest of the corps d'équipe emerged from their own hypnotrance–states, exchanging tired grins and backslaps of congratulations. For his part, Thomason wore an expression that bordered on...approving?You could never tell.

"You pulled it off, kid," he rumbled in that trademark gravelly baritone. The stocky chef's clap on your shoulder managed to convey impressed respect more clearly than any flowery praise. "Flawless service from top to bottom. I'll be sure to pass that along to Chef Patino when I touch base."

Your face must have reflected the gratified shock you felt at the gruff compliment, as Thomason's mouth twisted wryly before adding, "Don't look so damn stunned. You did good work holding it all together out there tonight. Real good work."

With that, he gave your shoulder one final squeeze before turning to address the rest of the crew and applauds rippled through the kitchen area. But you barely heard any of it over the dull roar in your ears - the mixture of bone-deep exhaustion and sheer disbelief at what you'd all just managed to pull off against seemingly insurmountable odds.

Gradually, the bustle of post-service breakdown routines fired up around you. But you remained still in the eye of that storm for several long moments, simply allowing the profound weight of your accomplishment tonight to sink in fully.

Despite the challenges, the unexpected crises that had threatened to derail everything...your tenacity and the depth of your training had ultimately prevailed. Harry's faith in you had been rewarded with an unmitigated triumph.

The realization brought a surge of fierce pride, tempered only by the hope that your mentor had managed to find some shred of comfort amidst his own turmoil tonight. You knew Harry well enough to be certain he would be dissecting every component, evaluating each nuance of the dish's execution with his trademark intensity even from afar.

And suddenly, you very much needed to hear his voice - to fill him in on all the details, reassure him that you'd kept your word right down to crossing every final T. To...well, to simply share in this significant victory with the man whose driving ambition and belief had made it all possible.

As if summoned by sheer force of will, your phone began buzzing from your back pocket with a familiar caller ID flashing. Stepping aside from the lingering chaos, you swiped to accept the call with your heart lodged squarely in your throat.

"Harry? It's me..."

The voice on the other end sounded tinny and wrung-out, yet still utterly suffused with that unmistakable gravel-rough timbre. "How'd it go, kiddo?"

Despite the bone-weary fatigue dragging at your every muscle, you felt a grin tugging at the corners of your mouth as you took in the sight of your crew unabashedly celebrating their collective win. "See for yourself."

With a few quick taps, you switched the call over to FaceTime, angling the camera to capture the wild scene surrounding you. Raucous cheers and whoops of victory filled the feed as Harry got an eyeful of his triumphant kitchen corps living it up.

For a long moment, he was silent on the other end, drinking in the rowdy scene. Then, his low chuckle finally filtered through, slightly watery but brimming with unmistakable pride.

"That's my crew," Harry rasped in a voice gone thick. "Well done, team. Well done."

You grinned fiercely at the screen, willing him to feel every ounce of your conviction as you responded. "We did you proud, Chef. Start to finish."

And just like that, the shaky exhale he released said everything his gruff words couldn't. For all his outward bravado and grit, your mentor's steadfast belief had been vindicated tonight - and his faith in you rewarded beyond even his own expectations.

For the first time in weeks, that shaky tension seemed to finally loosen its grip on both of you. Though the road ahead might still be fraught, this evening's triumph had forged an unbreakable bond of shared understanding and trust.

The entire grueling process of preparing for and executing the ambitious centerpiece dish had pushed both your skills, stamina and mental toughness to their limits. But instead of fracturing under such tremendous shared pressure, your mentor-mentee dynamic had been distilled down to its essential core - that of two committed culinary artists striving relentlessly towards the same creative vision, and ultimately emerging unified in the wake of that lofty achievement.

In that moment, any unresolved tensions or lingering frissons of attraction between you were rendered almost quaint, overwhelmed by the profound sense of creative synergy and hard-won victory. Those undercurrents would inevitably resurface later once the high had faded. But for now, you could simply bask in the warm glow of knowing you'd risen to every challenge thrown your way and come out on top.

Harry must have sensed the shift in your demeanor, the way your posture had relaxed slightly without sacrificing any of that fierce determination. His gruff chuckle sounded again through the phone's speaker, drawing your attention back to his careworn but glowing expression.

"Listen, pet..." he began in that trademark rasp, once again hitting you with the nickname that made your heart skip a beat,. "I gotta go take care of some stuff on this end. But we're gonna crack open a couple bottles when I'm back, you and me. We've earned it after pulling off a goddamn miracle like this one."

The very thought of the two of you sharing drinks and cutting loose for once, without the weight of impending culinary obligations hanging overhead, struck you as incredibly appealing after tonight's intensity. A warm smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you gave an emphatic nod.

"You know I'm gonna hold you to that, Chef. I'm thinking top-shelf stuff too, none of that bottom-rung swill."

Harry threw back his head with another peal of laughter. "You got it, you earned it. Gimme a couple days to get things sorted and I'll take you somewhere swanky to celebrate, on me. My way of saying thanks for proving me right about you, Y/n."

Before you could respond, Harry's gaze grew pensive, amusement fading slightly as he searched your expression with uncharacteristic earnestness. "And I mean it, you know. Not just about the drinks, but...well, you really came through in the clutch tonight. I knew you had the skills to pull it off, but seeing you actually do it against those crazy odds? You exceeded every expectation. I couldn't be prouder if you were my own flesh and blood."

You felt your cheeks warming at the uncommon depth of sincerity in his gravelly voice. Though Harry had never been one for emotional vulnerability, in this moment you could see the profound gratitude shining through loud and clear.

"That really means a lot coming from you, Harry," you managed in a slightly hushed tone, momentarily rendered speechless by the unexpected warmth radiating from him. "You know I'd never want to let you down, especially when you were counting on me most."

The tender moment stretched out in weighted silence, intimate currents flowing back and forth even through the crackle of the video feed. Until eventually, Harry seemed to resurface from that unguarded well of sincerity, giving a slightly blustery clearing of his throat.

"Well anyway, you did the heavy lifting tonight," he rallied in his typical all-business timbre, the hoarse bravado back in full force. "I'll leave you and the crew to enjoy your big victory bash. Just try not to get too out of hand with the partying."

He started to shift away from the camera, clearly preparing to disengage, when his hazel-eyed gaze flicked back to pin you with an unreadable look. A ghost of a smirk played around the edges of his mouth as he seemed to drink you in through the video feed.

"Oh, and one more thing, darlin'..."

You felt your breath catch at the rich, velvety timbre Harry imbued that endearment with - a departure from the casual, teasing way he usually deployed such pet names. This particular iteration seemed to caress something deeper, more weighted between you.

"I'm real proud of how you rose above and killed it tonight," he murmured in that same honeyed rasp that raised goosebumps along your skin. His gaze raked over you with unmistakable heat and intent. "Showed me that laser-focused mental strength and fortitude I always suspected was in there."

Harry shook his tousled head slowly, lips still curved in that secretive half-smile. "Gotta admit, I clearly underestimated you in the past, darlin'. Won't be making that mistake again."

The suggestive timbre in which he issued that statement was utterly at odds with the mentor-protegee context you'd been operating in mere moments ago. You felt your breath hitch as a warmth bloomed across your cheeks, suddenly hyper-aware that you were still surrounded by your raucous crew celebrating nearby.

Surely you were reading far too much into Harry's words and tone...except his eyes were gleaming with a combination of heat and challenge as they roamed over your features in a way that made you feel stripped bare. As if he knew full well the dizzying, electrifying effect he could have on you - even through a mere video call - and was shamelessly exercising that power.

You opened your mouth to respond, though what you could possibly say to that molten statement you had no idea. Thankfully, Harry seemed to recognize he was quickly veering into the old inappropriate territory and reigned himself in with a rough throat-clearing.

"Anyway, go have fun with the crew and I'll holler at you in a couple days once I get things sorted out on this end," he concluded, all traces of that heated bravado tucked away once more behind his typical gruff exterior. "You've more than earned it, darlin'."

Another searing look accompanied the purring emphasis he gave that endearment before Harry flashed you a stunningly lopsided grin - then the video feed clicked off, leaving you slightly dazed and flustered in its wake.

A long moment passed where you simply stared at the blank screen, cheeks still burning as your mind raced over the cadence of that parting exchange. From the heartfelt gratitude and rare showering of praise...to that inexplicably molten aside loaded with suggestion, it had all left you feeling deliciously unmoored and off-kilter.

You remained in that uncertain headspace for a while longer, the buzz of your crew's raucous celebration providing a soundtrack as the hours ticked by. Though you made a concerted effort to remain present, to revel in this hard-won moment of glory alongside your teammates, part of your consciousness couldn't help but keep circling back to that searing parting remark from Harry.

You kept thinking about the way he spoke, wondering if there was a hidden meaning behind his words. Suddenly, your long-suppressed feelings for the charismatic chef surged with volcanic intensity, consuming every rational thought until only one truth remained.

You decided you were done hiding your desire for Harry– done keeping that ravenous wanting locked away in the name of professionalism.The next time you saw your mentor, you promised yourself you would be completely honest. No more beating around the bush. Only complete, blazing honesty.

You would openly admit the burning attraction you'd felt since first meeting his intense gaze months ago. You would confront the growing tension from all his suggestive comments.

No more hiding behind being professional. You would put everything out in the open, once and for all. Either Harry felt the same fiery passion...or he didn't, and you could finally move on.

Once and for all.

But the need to finally uncover the truth burned within you, even if it meant risking everything and leaving your heart in ashes - because the constant wondering and uncertainty had become a suffocating torment you could no longer endure. Making that decision lifted a weight off your shoulders momentarily, but you steeled yourself knowing the real challenge still lay ahead, a daunting path that could either lead you to euphoric fulfilment or utter devastation.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

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iluvgayrats · 19 hours

Text

Drunk in love.

paige x reader

Warnings: SMUTTTTTTT with some plot, fluff, cussing, alcohol, pet names? (If that is one) I think that's all

A/n- this is my first fic. If it's terrible I'm open to constructive criticism! Also I literally live for Paige being a soft switch so that's literally all it is. Also I gave up on the ending bc i didn't know how to write it.

You were sitting next to Paige at the bar everyone goes to after a win. You could tell Paige was getting drunk because she's was getting a little more....handsy.

Right now her hand was rubbing up and down your thigh under the table while she talks about the highlights of the game to the team. Her fingers glide from your hip to your knee, her thumb ever so slightly on the inside of your thigh.

You and Paige had been friends since 6th grade when the blonde almost knocked you out during gym with a basketball. Figures.

"shoot, are you okay?" Little paige said.

"Yea I'm good, just dizzy."

"yea let's get you to the nurse, may have just given you a concussion.." she replied with concern.

Ever since then, y'all have been inseparable. Spending most weekends at each others houses or at her tournaments. She taught you the game of basketball. (Which you later came to love) And you rambled about the books you just finished. You were basically sisters.

When highschool started, Paige convinced you to join the Hopkins basketball team. At first you were adamant on just showing up for games, but blondie would not shut up about it till you tried out.

The next 4 years were the best of your life. Spending time with the team, especially paige. Going the state championships, and just being able to have fun.

Nothing changed when you both got into Uconn, She continued basketball while you studied literature and womens studies. You were always around the team, they loved you and you were practically part of the team.

Which leads us back to the bar. KK and Aaliyah dancing to the music blasting through the building while the whole team laughed and videoed them. Paiges hand still lingering around your leg as she drinks her Shirley Temple she swears has no alcohol. (Bull. Shit.)

"Paige you may want to slow down, you'll be miserable tomorrow." You say as she chugs her 3rd one down.

"nah baby I'll be fine."

"baby" that word. The word she uses when shes drunk and talks to you. The one that makes your heart stop, the one that makes your stomach fill with butterflies. The one that makes you wet asf. God you were so gay for this girl.

A few hours pass, and sleepy Paige is half awake on your shoulder while everyone starts to say their goodbyes.

"hey, p?" You say in a whisper

"hm?"

"Ready to go home?"

"mhm"

Now, just because you don't play basketball anymore, doesn't mean you don't go to the gym. Your pretty strong, strong enough to hold the 5'11 guard to the car. You pick her up bridal and haul her ass to the car near the entrance.

When you get home you wake Paige up again and walk her to your shared second story dorm, opening it up and locking the door behind you. Paige is a little more perky now, you made her eat crackers while she was still awake on the way home.

"Paige you wanna get a shower or just get comfy?"

"I'm tired" she clings onto you like she always does, always making you turn red.

"okay sweet girl, let's get you ready for bed." You help her to the bathroom and brush the gel out of her hair.

"you think you can get dressed on your own?" You ask

"Mhm"

"okay, get dressed and go to sleep okay?" You start to walk towards the door before she stops you.

"no, stay please"

"What?"

"stay here, please?" She begs

"Okay, let me change first."

"no, just wear one of my shirts, don't want you to go" she says as she stumbles to her drawer, grabbing a shirt with her name and number on the back.

You take the shirt and go into her connected bathroom to change before walking out. You see Paige staring you you.

"you look hot in my number"

"excuse me?"

You watch her look you up and down with a look of pure lust, making you wet by just standing there.

She gets up and walks towards you. "You look hot." "Extremely hot." You feel her hands on your waist, the sudden confidence she had, mixed with the tired rasp in her voice turned you on instantly.

"Paige, your drunk. Let's not do anything you'll regret." You say, your voice shaking slightly.

"mmm, I'm gonna regret not doing anything."

With that, your pinned against the wall, the taller blonds lips connected with yours. God she feels amazing. Her hands travel up and down your sides while yours find her hair.

"fuck, p. Please" your breathe between kisses.

"please what ma?" She replies.

"wanna feel good"

That's all you had to say before she whips you both around to her bed, laying you down gently without breaking the kiss. Her lips find their way to your neck just as her knee finds a way to your core. Causing you to moan from the sensation.

"paige please, fuck." You whine.

"shh, I'm gonna make you feel good baby, don't worry."

She lifts up your shirt, revealing the white sports bra underneath, which is also quick to come off.

"so pretty for me. So pretty." She praises as on of her hands travel to your tit, her mouth connecting to the other. You moan and arch your back, trying to get more friction to your clit.

her hand finds your heat, realizing you don't have shorts on, she starts rubbing your clothed bundle of nerves. The moans and whimpers coming from you surprise her. They sound almost pornographic.

"there you go ma, so wet for me." She whispers into your ear sending signals throughout your body.

"Paige please, please, fuck. Please fuck me"

She groans hearing your pleas for her. "Lift your hips up, princess." She guides your underwear down your legs and throws them on the ground before slowly pushing a finger into you. Earning a moan from you and a groan from her.

"good girl. so tight for me. Taking me so well." She praises.

"Paige more please. Please, need more"

She adds another finger, immediately curling them into your g-spot.

"Fuck baby please" the bubble in your stomach getting tighter and tighter as she moves her fingers.

"taking me so well pretty girl, so so good."

Paige feels you coming closer to the edge, so she dips her tongue into you, moving it with her fingers. A pornographic moan comes from your mouth as you tense up and shudder, cuming all over her fingers. She wastes no time cleaning up and helping you ride out your high.

"taste so good my gorgeous girl, so good."

After catching your breath with sweet kisses from Paige you lift yourself up on your elbows.

"wanna make you feel good paigey" you breathe out. "Please"

You sit up and kiss her, tasting yourself mixed with the alcohol on her lips.

"okay my love" she says, taking her shirt and bra off as well as her boxers.

You watch in awe, she beautiful. Her hair, her arms, her toned abs, god she's so pretty. You keep looking down until you see her soaking cunt.

"your beautiful" your say, still amazed.

You make your way to her clit. Floating your fingers and touching on the sensitive area lightly, making Paige squirm and whimper.

"please" she says, watching your every move.

You come up from her heat and kiss her lips, then her jaw, her neck, leaving a few hickeys and down her chest. Sucking slightly on her nipple and swiping over the other, hear her low moans.

"baby please please." She begs.

Hearing her become so vulnerable under your touch after giving you the best orgasm of your life gives you a confidence boost as you start bringing your hand down to her heat, sweeping your finger up and down her fold.

"doing good paige. So good." You whisper, finally dipping your finger into her, earning a gasp and moan from her mouth.

Realizing one finger would never get her to the edge, you add another, going faster and curling into the spot that makes her moan loudest.

"Fuck ma, please." She breathes

"I got you Paige, taking it so well."

You replace your fingers with your tongue. Dipping it into her heat as you suck at it, your nose hitting the bundle of nerves above her entrance.

She grips the shears, wrapping her legs around your head as you go deeper into her. Feeling her start to shake, you keep your pace, adding more pressure. You hear her get louder and finally scream from pleasure as she reaches her high.

You lick her clean before making contact with her lips again.

"so good baby, you did so well."

As both of you catch your breath, she wraps up into your arms and you fall asleep stroking her hair.

"god I fucked up."

~-TIME SKIP-~

In the morning, you wake up and realize what happened. Fuck. You end up carefully pulling yourself from the blondes tight embrace and start to gather and put on your clothes, but not before she wakes up.

"hey, what are you doing?" She asks groggly

"Paige I'm so sorry." You reply with watery eyes. Your scared for your friendship. You let your feelings take over. She was drunk and probably didn't feel the same.

"hey hey, ma come here" she says in a comforting tone.

You walk over to the bed with the naked guard wrapped up in blankets. She watches you sit down and look at her.

"I know I was drunk. But I wanted that. Don't feel like it was just a drunk hookup, at least for me? I feel like there's more to it." She explains, wiping a tear that fell to your cheekbone.

"really?"

"Definitely" she pulls you into her lap. Hugging you for a while before speaking again. "I want you to be my girlfriend"

"Paige what?" You pull away surprised

"be my girlfriend. I can't just live with you as my friend. I want you."

You think, not for long that is.

"why not" you peck her lips.

"fucking finally" she sighs, burying her face into your neck, leaving a small kiss there.

like I said, this was my first fic. I'm hoping y'all like it and thank you for reading till the end. I tried not using y/n because I thought it would be challenging so that happened.

#paige bueckers #uconn wbb #paige buckets #lil paigey #paige x reader #paige bueckers smut

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marquezian · 1 day

Text

Some excerpts from Marc Márquez's interview with Mela Chércoles for AS (source) (auto-translated)

[...]

-Now you remember it [Jerez 2019] and almost laugh about it because you're back to your old self, right?

-Well, you laugh. You laugh and you don't laugh, I'm not going to fool you, but I handle it better. I know that without the mistake after the fall, which was coming back early, breaking my plate and all that, my career would have changed a lot. But hey, it has been like that and we had to reinvent ourselves and learn how to suffer too.

-How many World Championships do you think you would have today without that crash in Jerez 2020?

-I'm not going to tell you how many, but without that crash every year I would have been fighting for the World Championship. Then, if you win or not, that's another thing, but at least to be every year in the race, at the front, fighting…. I'm proving this year that I haven't forgotten how to ride a bike either.

-How much does the 9th World Championship make you feel?

-The challenge of being competitive again is much more important to me. If you ask me that in 2019, I tell you that it is the next goal, but then that goes to the background and it is much more difficult the challenge of being in hell and back up than not thinking about another title. That takes a back seat. You can think, 'I want to be an astronaut.' But you're not going to be one, because it's something that's a long way off.

-If another title comes along, would it be the most valuable of all the ones you've won? -By far. The ninth would be the most valuable of all. It has always been said that it is not difficult to get there, but to stay there. I've been able to hold on for many years, but then I disappeared and recovering that is the most difficult thing. It is something that few athletes have achieved and I am working on that. When I was in 2021 and 2022, with my arm in a sling and with other operations, you looked for motivational documentaries. -Which ones? -The last dance (Michael Jordan's) helped me a lot and also Nadal's victory in 2022 in Australia, who was injured. I was at home with my arm in a sling and that helped me a lot, because he had been injured for a long time, came back and won. The achievements of other athletes help a lot.

-When he was on the crest of the wave with Honda, I always asked him to be the best in history by saying that he should also win with another brand. Would it have more merit to win another title after what has happened, with four operations in two years, than to win with two different brands?

-For me it would be incredible to go from being in the situation where I leave the bikes to recovering and being able to fight for a World Championship. For me it would be very satisfying, as have been the others, but another would come from a very different situation. The simple fact of what I am living now…. That's why I'm so happy, as if I were winning races. To have the courage, because I consider it was a brave gesture last year, to give up a contract and say “I want the best bike to see where I am”, that's difficult and before making the decision you have doubts. Besides, you don't take that decision behind closed doors, you take it and expose yourself to everything, bare-chested. “Now you have the bike, kid, and let's see what you do”. I knew where I was coming from, that I needed my time and I trusted myself. Confidence is the last thing an athlete has to lose.

-Do you already feel in the fight for the World Championship?

-Not yet, and I'll tell you why. I feel I'm in that group of the top four, but there are two who are ahead at the moment, who are Martin and Bagnaia. They don't miss a training session. They are always out there and this is what makes the difference. What I did at Le Mans (from 13th to 2nd in the two days of the race) is what makes the difference. What I did in Le Mans (from 13th to 2nd on both days) you can save one or two days, but there will be a day when it goes wrong, because you take risks at the start and you have more chances to fail. Now we have some important circuits coming up, which are Catalonia, Mugello and Holland, the circuits where historically I have had more ups and downs. When these three circuits are over, I will understand my situation much more.

[...] -Let's talk about the future. Do you think Bagnaia would have problems to have you as a partner in the official box? -If I'm in Bagnaia's position, and I'm strong on a Ducati, I make the same speech I made when Lorenzo came to Honda: I want one of the guys who can fight me for a title with the same bike, because then I have the same weapons. I have always had this mentality. Honda at the time, out of respect, told me that they were going to sign Lorenzo and I told them that of course they had to sign him, because otherwise he was going to beat us with a Ducati, so it was good to put him there.

[...]

-Where do you want to race next year? -(Smiles). The goal for me this year was to find myself again, and I'm achieving it. Once I find myself again, I have to look for the best team and the best bike, because then you have more chances to fight for the title, which will be next year's goal. -Where do you want to go then? -(He smiles again). Obviously, the best bike I have already said what it is (the Ducati, he said) and the best team is an official one. This is the goal of every rider here, but, once all the scenarios are on the table, you also have to look for the best option that you feel, both emotionally and professionally.

[...] -Back to the hypothetical ninth title. That would open the door to a tenth that Rossi didn't get and with which you would surpass him. Is it also a motivation to surpass Rossi? -Zero. Zero and I'll tell you the reason. -Wait. I'm sure Valentino wishes from home that you don't get it, as Agostini was once happy that you cut him off from his records? -Maybe, but for me the right arm has made me learn and give importance to other things. I now have another vision that sometimes people don't have. Every athlete has his problems, handicaps and injuries during his career and it is very difficult to compare. I'm not looking to break my arm and have four operations, but it's a totally different sporting career. I've been four years in the dry dock, because I've had four operations on my arm and I've had my ups and downs there, so that's all on the back burner.

#mela always gets such beautiful things out of him! theyve had a good relationship his whole career.. im glad #marc marquez #mm #*#*article #text

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magicmanii · 17 hours

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yoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyooyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyooyoyoyoyo

can i pretty please request a rin x gn reader where rin is hopelessly down bad for them? (like he runs to pay for anything they want and gets grumpy/petty if reader insists/pays or runs to open doors for them and is honestly just all around pathetically in love)

BEACHY LOVE

🌺 It's been… like 7 months since my best friend has requested this.. I hope you enjoy…

🌺 It might be a little ooc Rin? Disgustingly in love Rin!!! Rin is a cutie patootie in this!!! Isagi is a little freaked out.. Also I haven't read bllk in a minute so I'm going off of what I know.. THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD!!!!

🌺GN READER‼️‼️‼️

🌺 WORD COUNT: 1,204

Isagi has seen a lot of weird stuff since he's become a famous soccer player.

He's seen fans flash their favorite players in a weird attempt to get their attention, he's seen opponents lose their shit after losing a match, he's even seen his own teammates get weird while playing a game. He can't really say anything about that though…

But what he's never seen before; in his seventeen years of life, is Rin Itoshi, one of the best soccer players in Japan (and also notably one of the most cold and standoffish) rubbing sunscreen into someone else's back.

I mean— helping someone with something without glaring at them or complaining!?

A shiver ran up Isagi's spine.

This couldn't be Rin. This had to be an imposter.

Rin would never willingly do something for someone unless—

Another shiver ran up Isagi's spine. A mysterious apple also fell on his head.

Unless… they were his partner!

Wait. No, he's getting too ahead of himself. Rin, Mr— “I have a stick shoved up my ass constantly” would never be able to pull someone! Especially someone so beautiful!

But then that brought him back to his original question. If this wasn't his partner, who was it!?

Before isagi could question Rin's and this mysterious person's relationship anymore, a monotonous voice broke him out of his stupor.

“Hey, NPC, can you move? You're standing right in front of the door.” said soccer player grumbled out while glaring daggers down at the now sweating Isagi.

“Oh! —” Isagi quickly moved out of the way of the entrance to the shaved ice hut. “Sorry.”

Rin walked in without even sparing isagi another word or glance, clearly focusing more on his task than his rival.

Now that Rin was closer, Isagi could get a look at his attire. And let me tell you. Isagi could feel himself getting traumatized again.

I mean— how couldn't he!? Rin was wearing neon blue swim trunks with flamingos and palm trees on it while also wearing a pair of pineapple sunglasses!

Who was this!?

“Do you have a staring problem, NPC?” Rin coldly asked when he felt Isagi's burning gaze on his back.

“What are you wearing?” Isagi boldly snapped back, not caring if he got a death glare because of it.

“swim trunks.”

“Wha— no kidding! I could tell that much! But why are you wearing ones with flamingo print on them!? And what's with the sunglasses!?” He questioned while pointing at the offending male.

Slowly, Very slowly, maybe it was intentional on how slow he was turning; Rin turned around to face Isagi, his expression far from a welcoming one.

In actuality, if looks could kill, Isagi would be, not 6ft, but 30ft underground!

“if you have such a problem with what I'm wearing maybe you should pluck your eyeballs out.” he spat out before turning back around and grabbing two snow cones from the smiling cashier.

“You should learn how to mind your business, NPC.” was the final thing Rin said to isagi, the pro soccer player shoving his way past the shorter and stomping his way out the hut.

It wouldn't take long before Rin would make it to his partner again. His partner in question looking up at their boyfriend with a questioning gaze.

“Rinnie? What's with the face?” They questioned while reaching out for the snow cone they requested, saying a small “Thank you” as they watched the other sit down on the ground like a pouting child.

“I ran into isagi.” He simply said, his blue eyes staring daggers into the poor snow cone in his grasp.

“So?” Y/N shrugged, looking at Rin with a questionable gaze.

“He had a problem with what I was wearing.”

“So what'd you say?”

“I told him he could pull his eyeballs out if he hated my outfit that much.”

“Aww Rinnie! You like the outfit I picked out for you that much!?” Y/N cooed while lovingly pinching their boyfriend's cheek.

Rin let out a soft grunt but didn't push Y/N away.

“You know, if you like the outfits I pick out for you that much, you should let me pick out all your outfits!” Y/N offered with a cheeky smile

Rin looked at his partner for a moment, his eyes softly gazing at their features: their bright eyes, their pretty smile, their soft hair..

Rin looked away from them with another grunt.

“No way.” He quietly said, a soft, almost unnoticeable blush on his face.

“What!? Why not!?” Y/N whined, a childish pout on their face.

“Because I said so.”

“That's not an answer!” Y/N grumbled

“Why not?” Rin teased while sticking his tongue out

“Because I said so!” They spat back with their tongue now out as well

“You're a child.” The soccer player scoffed, a small fond smile on his face at the sight of Y/N's pouting face.

This earned Rin a gentle punch from Y/N.

“You can go kiss my ass!” Y/N exclaimed before turning around and shoving a spoonful of shaved ice into their mouth.

It was quiet for a moment. All anyone would be able to hear would be the soft lapping of the ocean softly caressing the land before retreating once more, the sound of seagulls squawking away, and the gentle sound of wind brushing through the leaves of the trees.

“You know,” Rin started, successfully catching Y/N's attention.

“I have a gala coming up. You can uh..” He hesitated, a harsh blush growing on his face once more. “You can choose an outfit out for me.” he softly said.

At this, Y/N leaned in impossibly closer, their hand cupping the back of their ear as they let out an obnoxious “What was that?”. If it could, their ear would grow comically large as they waited for Rin to repeat himself.

Cursing under his breath, Rin let out a tired sigh before repeating himself.

“I said—” he started only to get cut off by Y/N grabbing his face.

“That I could pick out any outfit for you to wear to a gala!?” Y/N basically screamed in excitement, a smile running from ear to ear as they inched their face closer and closer to Rin's.

If it wasn't for the fact that his partner just ruptured his ear drums, he would've found their closeness extremely flustering.

But despite his lost hearing, he couldn't help but admire their features.

‘Damn them and their cute face…’ he silently cursed to himself.

Pushing Y/N away gently, Rin crossed his arms and averted his gaze.

“you're too loud.” He scolded, but his scolding landed on deaf ears seeing as Y/N was too busy celebrating their victory.

‘They're such a pain…’ Rin lovingly thought to himself while watching them celebrate.

#x gn reader #x reader #blue lock x gn reader #blue lock x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi x gn reader #rin itoshi x you #rin x reader #rin x you

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0cta9on · 2 days

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Hey🫡 Hope you got a lovely rest, I'm preempting this ask so I don't forget😉

Ouhhhh this is just lewd thought, I thought it was funny and hot and the same time🥴😂.

"Your innocent ass mindlessly pulled a simple prank on your housemate by pulling the 'tail costume' of your housemate, That's what you thought at first but the truth unveiled itself that the tail does not attach on a rope nor a belt, but in fact by her puckered hole. She was edging with it consequently your action accidentally made her squirt"

Love to see your take on this scenario😂

Hello mikeylo! Honestly, every time I thought about how to write this scenario, I could only imagine it in a comedic way :,) And for some reason, Somi is the only idol that came to mind, so I hope you don't mind :>

Another day of classes complete. One of your professors fell ill that morning with no replacement, so thankfully you're able to get to your apartment an hour early to chill out and catch up on some rest.

As you open the door, you see your roommate rummaging through the fridge.

"Yo, Somi. I'm back."

Her head pops up from above the fridge door, a look of panic in her eyes. "H-hey dude, didn't expect to see you back so soon, hehe..."

You squint at her, studying her expression. Somi has always been a bit of an oddball, but this seems different. What's even more suspicious is the fact that she hasn't moved an inch away from the fridge despite her telling you off last week for not closing it properly.

"What are you doing?" You ask, not moving your gaze away from her.

"J-just getting a quick snack and then I'm gonna head back to my room."

"Okay, then why are you hiding behind the fridge then?"

"What's with all the questions, what are you, a cop? A-and I'm not hiding, I'm just... looking," she answers unconvincingly.

As you take a step closer to her, you can see the panic growing on her face. So you take another step. And then another step. And another step. Each one makes her grows a bit wider until you feel like they're about to pop out from her head.

"What are you hiding, Somi?"

"I-I'm not hiding anything, man, I'm ju- WHAT'S THAT OVER THERE?!" She tries to divert your attention and escape, but unsurprisingly, it doesn't work, allowing you to grab her wrist and finally see what she's hiding - a black furry tail sticking out the back of her shorts.

"Oh. My. God. Dude."

Somi struggles to release herself from her grip, her face growing beet red with embarrassment. "Let go of me! Or else I'll bite you!"

"Can't believe my roommate has been a furry this whole time," you tease, wheezing with laughter.

"I-I'm not a furry, just- LET GO!"

You grab a hold of her tail and jokingly yank at it, but soon regret your decision once she collapses to the ground, her entire body shivering uncontrollably.

"Oh my god, Somi are you ok- oh... Oh."

Somi's tail isn't connected to her shorts like you originally assumed, but somewhere much more... "personal." A growing wet spot appeared on the front of her shorts and the random noises she was making that you thought were from a seizure were actually whimpers of pleasure.

"Dude... You need to find a hobby."

"Sh-shut up for a second," she stutters, catching her breath. "That was... fucking amazing... holy shit..."

Feeling a little violated, you trudge to your room, but Somi's words stop you right as you reach for the door knob.

"D-do you wanna... f-fuck my ass real q-quick?"

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lemotmo · 3 days

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https://www.tumblr.com/lemotmo/751241780793622528

I’m confused by the timing of it. Like if it was to move momentum forward you’d think it would have been after episode 4 or 5.

To announce a hey we’re going to be giving more focus on this relationship next season, it be after the finale.

But now it’s just…. it’s airing before the episode airs tonight so like…. They already have very little to talk about relationship wise, and removing episode 9 and anything that happens in it from being able to talk about gives them even less lol. And it’s also happening after Tommy hasn’t even been seen or mentioned once by anyone in the last two episodes?

I know we keep saying Tommy is a plot device but I wonder if Lou is “plot devicing” here, by which I mean it’s mostly going to be about bucks bi journey itself (which is what Tim and Oliver and hell sometimes Ryan oddly enough lol, keep focusing on) and since Tommy is currently part of it, Lou has to be there as well.

Ah Nonny! You speak my language well!

I was just thinking about this. The timing is off. Something is going on. What an odd moment to do promo for a couple that barely had 20 minutes of screentime. You would think they would do promo after the finale, assuming they would have had more scenes together and they would be more established.

I think there are two things that could be at play here:

It's good promo for more people to watch the penultimate episode. The bisexual Buck storyline has garnered some new viewers and since Tommy is part of his storyline (as a plot device to make him realise he is actually bisexual) he has to be there.

Something might actually happen between them that won't be so positive at all. Their relationship might take a hit or even a fall. So, they won't be established by the finale and they won't be able to do any promo for them anymore.

Personally I think it'll be a combination of both of the above. I could be wrong of course, but the way the promo of this season has been going (mostly Buddie-related) and the way Oliver refuses to promote Buck/Tommy (which is something he has done before because he doesn't want to lead the fans on) I have a pretty good feeling about this.

If I'm wrong about this? Well, there is always next season. I'm convinced that Buddie is in the works. Everything in the episodes and the way they portray Buck/Eddie and Tommy in their scenes, to the promo, to the strange social media postings (Vertigo poster), to the way Ryan talks about Eddie pressing a refresh button and the audience will get to know an unexplored side of Eddie? Yeah, I'm sorry, but I'm firmly seated on my Buddie-train. I've got a strong feeling that we're riding the Endgame Express at this point.

Sorry, not sorry. 🤷‍♀️

PS: Oh and Buddie peeps, don't let anyone tell you that you are delusional. We've been here for 6 seasons. We've seen it all. But this is different now. Buck is canonically bisexual. This is no more delusion or clown noses/clown cars situations anymore. Buck is bi and all the possibilities are open now. So yes, Buddie is definitely a viable and valid option. This is something that can happen. No more clown make-up for us!

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #Lou and Oliver interview #we are not delusional #it's all right there in the narrative

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glimmerlofsea · 3 days

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Hey it's me again. I was wondering if you could do a billy hargrove imagin. The reader and Billy "hate" each other and end up having to share a bed. The rest is up to you.

Thank youuuu 🖤

HIII!!! your request is very interesting!! And I will put the song 'Shameless' as the vibe of this fanfic, thank you for requesting it and I hope this meets your expectations and you like it! And I apologize for the delay. 💚😕

Billy Hargrove x Reader

MASTERLIST

SPARK OF HATE

Warning : Just a few harsh words maybe? fluffy, and there's some making out session... BUT NOT TOOO MUCH ;D

WC; 3,4k

#TALKISSA; As in the request above! :d and relatedly, since I'm a perfectionist and detailed writer (which kinda sad) so the story is too long, sorry if it's boring :(, I really hope it's not. Thank you for requesting!

Such a relationship is very complicated to explain. He hates you, you hate him more. Well, he hates you for no apparent reason, but the reason you hate him? Just look at that sly, arrogant, disgusting smile every day in the school hallway, it makes you want to vomit every time.

Jessica, your friend always assures you that the spark of hatred is just wishful thinking to hide your feelings of mutual liking. You couldn't hold back your laughter when you heard that, you, like Billy? Pft, you'd rather die.

"Oh, come on, Y/N! You think we didn't see the tension that was there when you look at each other?" Jess complained while you were putting your textbook into your bag.

You ignored her, "Someone should give him some advice."

Jess chuckled, "You think he'll care about that little advice of yours?"

You slammed your locker, and turned your position 90 degrees towards Jess, "Are you on his side or me?"

Jess groaned, "God, not this again. Every time I hear this it's like choosing a side in war you know?"

You grinned and brought your face closer to Jess', "This is war, Jess. Get used to it."

"You're just annoyed because he took your Physics Queen's throne, right?"

You started walking down the hall followed by Jess, "That's the most important thing. He can't just come in and take my throne!"

"Oh, please, you're not the only one who is good at Physics." Jess' cigar, you look at her, she immediately closes her mouth tightly, afraid you will scold her, but no, you nod in agreement.

"Yeah. You're right, but that doesn't mean I can let a Billy fucking Hargrove take my title!" You whined as you tied your hair in a ponytail.

"I heard you mentioning my name, Princess."

You groaned, knowing who the voice was, when you wanted to turn around you felt your scrunchie slipping from your hair, making your hair flow freely and fly in the wind. Billy Hargrove took it,

"Give it back." You warn.

"Or what?" He replied with a grin.

Oh, this is what was meant when Jess said there was 'tension' between you two.

You still stared at him intently, he chuckled, "God, just admit you're attracted to me, Y/L/N, there's nothing to be ashamed about."

You took your scrunchie and started to put your hair back in a ponytail, “Go back to sleep and you'll see it happen, Hargrove.”

When you turned around, Jess was gone, sneaky girl, she left you because you saw her following Trevor, her crush from middle school. You laugh in disbelief,

"That girl," you whispered, annoyed.

For the past few days, your car has been confiscated by your parents. You caused trouble in Hawkins by accidentally crashing your car into one of the trees that was being felled. It costs a lot of money and you are not left to drive.

"Lost your ride?" Teasing Billy from behind,

You gave him your middle finger without looking at him and walked away. Today you had to walk a few more deserted blocks because you lost your ride.

It was sad how your relationship with Billy ended like that, because you had to see him every week because Max—his little sister hired you as her Physics tutor. It makes you happy to be able to show off your abilities in that subject when teaching Max at her house, which means Billy can clearly see this, even though he himself is very good at Physics, but Max doesn't believe him? What else could upset him?

The day you are going to tutor Max arrives, you immediately leave, 'walking' to get to her house, you knock on the door, expecting Max to immediately open the door but she doesn't. That's her shitty brother.

He flashed his usual grin, making you wrinkle your nose and groan, "Max's here?"

"Why are you looking after her anyway?"

"I'm her tutor, remember?" You flip your hair, "Since I'm the smartest in Physics. She trusts me enough for that."

Sometimes Billy feels that Max only hired you as her fake tutor to make him feel useless as a brother, but he doesn't care, she's quite a bother for Billy, and he's a little grateful that Max hired you as her tutor, apart from being able to see you often but Billy calmed down because that little piece of shit wouldn't bother him.

Billy chuckled at your words, he turned his head back a little but still locked his gaze on you, looking at you from top to bottom who was wearing a small skirt that reached your thighs and the rest was covered by knee length socks.

"Max, your little friend is here!" he shouted.

Hearing no answer made Billy look back completely, annoyed that he had to take his eyes off you, he left you to check on Max.

Soon after that the door opened completely, "Max isn't here." He said, he sounded panicked but tried not to show it to you.

You frowned, "What?" Max never goes to the Arcade without taking you, she usually takes you if she wanted you to show her around Hawkins, but not this time.

"You can go." Billy said as if he was being pushed by something.

You sighed, you knew Max wasn't your little sister and just your friend, but at least you showed concern, right? Nah, you are really worried. In addition, Billy's expression was frowning all the way down, unlike usual when he showed all his firm facial muscles.

"Do you want me... To, um— To help you look after her?" Your words are stuttering.

"That little shit is probably in the Arcade, I don't care."

Billy was about to close the door but you held him back and shook your head, “she's not, you know that, Billy. Don't hide your fears, I insist, I know where we'll go to find her.”

Billy had time to think about it.

You raised your eyebrows to reassure him, he rolled his eyes and opened the door wide, "Okay."

You guys use his blue Camaro car, you roll into the Arcade first, then drive to Lucas' house, one of the kids Max's age who has been friends with her recently, Max talks about him a lot, so you think maybe she's at Sinclair's house. But the results were nil.

The longer you look, the air gets colder in Hawkins. Billy gives you his jacket, even though you were already wearing a furry sweater with colorful patterns, but he still forces you to wear his jacket, you don't have a problem with that. It's just... Why suddenly?

"Fuck that bitch, I have a date, dammit." Billy said cursing Max but in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

Date? For some reason your ears heat up and your whole face heats up.

You cleared your throat and adjusted your sitting position to be comfortable, "Date?" You asked in a small voice.

"Yeah, with Penny, that girl has a nice ass. I could take her virginity right now if I didn't have to look for that load." Billy explain in the midst of his laughter.

You looked up at him and wrinkled your nose in an ugly way, “Gross, Hargrove.”

Billy chuckled and glanced at you briefly, "What? Wish that was you?"

You looked at him, your mouth wanted to say yes, yes to asking you out, but if you say that, you would be a cheap girl like the girl Billy had slept with several times in Hawkins. You don't want to be one of them.

"I'd rather eat Mrs. Hills' dessert." You said which made Billy chuckle, "That's the worst."

You smiled, "I know right? Jess once told me, she accidentally filled Mrs. Hills' dessert, she almost threw it up right then and there if Mrs. Hills didn't look at her. AH! And have you ever seen Mr. Pill who wears pants incorrectly? His panties keep showing when he walks down the hall!"

Girl, you talk a lot.

"And are you—"

Then you realize you are like a talking machine that can never stop talking. What's more, you talk a lot in front of people you should ignore because they are your enemies.

"-Sorry." You said looking back towards the street,

Billy smiled, you could even feel it without looking at him, there was no answer from him but you felt a hand land on your thigh, giving you goosebumps all over your body, he stroked it slowly,

"It's okay, go on. I love hearing your voice, Princess." His words made you look at him again, he locked them, looking alternately at you and the road, "If I'm being honest, it calmed me, even if it was a little loud to the ears."

You chuckled, “Now, keep your eyes on the road.”

"Yes ma'am."

Long story short, you go to the Wheeler house, Billy uses his charm to seduce the housewife, and he doesn't let you get out of the car to see the action. It irritates you, he thinks you're jealous, but you try to argued it, and it only ends up being him who keeps teasing you, making you just stay silent on the way to the Byers house. He continues to stroke your thigh, if your voice makes him calm, then his caressing your thigh makes you calm.

Oh, what is this? What is this feeling? You will continue to avoid it even though your heart cannot lie. Jess seemed right, the feeling was starting to rise in you. But it's just nonsense if it's only felt by you.

As soon as you arrived at the Byers house you watched a small fight between Steve Harrington and Billy, in between their fight you noticed Max peeking out of the window, she gave a signal for you to close your mouth. But it was too late, you already saw Steve lying there on the ground, and Billy have gone to the front door, you help Steve to stand up,

"You're Y/N, right? Why are you with that jerk?" Steve asked as he stood up, helped by you.

You shrugged your shoulders, "I don't know."

You heard a loud stomping from inside, making you run to the source of the sound leaving Steve there, you heard lots of screams from the kids there, including Max.

You walked over to Max, "Are you okay?"

Max nodded quickly, "Lucas, Y/N!"

You saw Billy grabbing Lucas roughly by the collar and cornering him into the kitchen cupboard, Steve was about to step forward but you held him back, "No harm."

Steve chuckled, "Yeah, but did you see he hurt the kid?"

Steve was about to pick up his pace again but you got ahead of him, grabbing Billy's shoulder, "Max's here, let's go."

"Let him go." You said, moving forward to stand next to Lucas,

Billy glanced at you briefly before looking at Lucas again, "This is the last time I see you with her, Sinclair."

Billy let go of Lucas roughly, you made sure Lucas was okay, "Are you okay?"

Lucas nodded.

You thought it was over, no more violence, but it wasn't, it was over quickly, Billy beating Steve mercilessly, Max screaming his name over and over, as did you too, "Hargrove!"

He didn't stop hitting Steve, making the jolt of his hand push you back and make your forehead scrape against the edge of the cupboard.

Max tackled his brother and inserted a syringe which made Billy fall on the floor.

You held your forehead and groaned, then saw Billy who didn't have enough strength or energy to stand up.

Max walked over to you, "I can't explain in more detail, but I have to go with them. In Billy's car. Mind if you look after him, Y/N?"

You looked at Billy then looked at Max again, you shook your head, "Not at all."

"Thank you."

With that, Max and his friends went to who knows where they were going, you helped them carry the battered Steve to the car, you felt guilty for the guy.

You went back inside and brought Billy's heavy body to rest on the edge of the couch, you used Byers' house phone to call Jess. Tell her to pick you up at the Byers residence.

You landed yourself next to Billy, saw that his head was still swinging, you saw that his shirt was still half-buttoned, you decided to button the shirt all the way, and put his jacket back on him. You took a clean towel from the one you took to clean the blood from his nose.

You felt a hand holding your hand, making you stop what you were doing before, with dim eyes, Billy opened his eyes.

Feeling the awkwardness of the eye contact you smiled slightly, "Um, hi?"

You didn't imagine his next move would be him leaning forward to kiss you, right on the lips. Oh, how you hated him, you should have pushed him away and slapped him for harassing you, but no, you kissed him back.

'The Kiss' started to heat up when Billy started to pull you to sit on his lap, but you didn't want this, you didn't want to. You just... Don't want to. You pulled back your face, while he seemed to feel unsatisfied,

"What—"

Billy stopped you by moving to your jawline, tracing it, “Don't talk. Hell, don't even try.”

He started tracing your neck, oh, this time your whole body was really hot, "It's been a secret for a long time that I really want you."

"Need you more than I want to." It's almost like a whisper in your ear.

The door opened with a bang, making you change your position to sit back on the floor, Billy chuckled,

“Shut up,” you told him.

Jess stood silently in front of the door, you really hoped she didn't see it.

"Hi." You said.

Jess immediately rushed over to you, "What the hell?! I thought you were in danger!" Seeing her reaction it seemed like you were quick enough to get away from Billy's lap.

You smiled and stood up, "Who said that? I told you I just needed to be picked up, and thank you for coming. I love you."

Jess rolled her eyes and looked down, seeing Billy who was still half conscious, "and what did you do with him?"

You widened your eyes, "It's a long story. Just take us back, please?"

Jess looked at you again, repeating it not at your face but your forehead, she grabbed your wound making you groan, "Did you do this, asshole?!" Jess asked Billy.

Billy blurted out, "Huh?"

You put a hand on Jess's shoulder, "No, I'm fine, just a little scratched."

You showed your sparkling sparkling eyes, "Can we just go?"

Jess narrowed her eyes, "Yeah, yeah, but Trevor is in the car, problem with that?"

"No! Absolutely not."

You grabbed Billy's hand to put around your neck, he was so heavy you couldn't lie, making Jess stand beside him to help you support him.

"I love it, like a double date, right?" Billy asked you, still rambling.

"Shut up."

"What did he say?" Jess asked, you kept your head steady, "Nothing! You heard wrong, Jess."

Jess kept looking at you, suspicious of you, but she felt like you would never be able to hide anything from her, so she looked away again.

Trevor and Jess were in the front seat, you felt bad for ruining their date, meanwhile Billy continued to cling onto you, not wanting to pull his head from your shoulder.

"I don't want to go home." He whispered which only you could hear since the music was playing in Jess's car.

"I'll be completely beaten by him if I come home without Maxine."

You know this. Max once told you that her stepfather was abusive to Billy, and Billy took it out on Max when he was in a bad mood, either scolding her loudly, or holding her hand tightly.

"We can sleep over at Jess' house if you want." You said.

Billy started to pull his head from your shoulder and looked at you, “Can we?”

You grinned, "Jess, can we stay at your house?"

Jess looked at you, "What is this? An impromptu sleepover?" Jess smiled, "YES, yes. You up, Hargrove?"

Billy just smiled fakely at Jess, Jess chuckled, "I told you there was some tension between—"

You glared at Jess, “Zip it.”

Not long after that, when you arrived at Jess' house, she and Trevor went on their next dating session. What kind of 'sleepover' would it be if she just left you like that?

You were wearing Jess' pajamas, looking at Billy who was asleep on Mr. Dunphy a.k.a Jess' beloved father, you decided to sleep in your best friend's room. That's a shame, because you'd love to talk about something unexpected at the Byers house.

If he could tell the truth, it was the most restful sleep Billy had ever experienced without the sound of his father cursing, without the repeated incidents of his father beating him, just the peace he had been longing for. But it didn't last long when he heard a loud bang on the wall from the direction of the room.

He woke up and groaned, took the golf club that was at the end of the wall in Jess' house and walked towards the room that had the source of the sound, not an animal, not the wind, and of surely not a ghost, but you.

You continued to bang your head gently against the wall, trying to walk, while rambling, "...I told you, there's no tension or whatever you said."

It looks like you are trying to talk to someone through your unconscious.

Billy put his golf club down and blocked the contact of your forehead with the wall, “You okay?” he asked. But he noticed your eyes were closed tightly, he had heard of this, sleepwalking or whatever the term was.

"Let's get you back to sleep, yeah?" Billy said then grabbed your hand to lead you back to the bed.

You were still rambling, "...I don't like him! What?" You whined, making Billy really confused, was this normal?

"I like him... A little. I hate to admit it."

Your words began to attract his attention, he landed you very carefully on the mattress and the blanket you used before to lock you inside again,

When Billy wanted to leave you, you woke up and pulled his hand so he fell beside you, you comforted your position on his chest, "I can't sleep without you,"

Billy didn't say anything, or precisely can't say anything.

"Jess." You continued, Billy thought you must still be half conscious because you thought he was your best friend.

It wasn't the way Billy expected to share a bed with you, but when you started wrapping your arms around his body he felt a feeling he had never felt. Comfort, and someone to say that everything will be okay. His mother had done that, but her words did not reflect what she did to Billy because she left him and did not try to take him back from his psychopath father. And in your arms? Different.

Billy was lost in his thoughts for a moment, but he started to close his eyes again and again and went back to sleep with you, holding you in his arms so that you also felt safe and definitely not sleepwalking again so as not to hurt yourself. He noticed the small wound on your forehead due to his carelessness, and he would make sure his emotions wouldn't hurt you again.

"I'll get my title back from him." You rambled again, Billy, who hadn't completely closed his eyes, just chuckled, knowing that you were talking about him.

Jess and Trevor have just returned from their long 'trip' which apparently took the whole day, Jess comes back and called your name, but there is no answer, making her walk towards your room and get—

"WHAT THE FUCK!" She shouted hysterically, Trevor, who heard his new girlfriend's screams, immediately ran into the room, "What's wrong?!"

It turns out that what Jess saw was you sleeping comfy in the crook of Billy's neck and Billy pressing his chin into your hair.

Billy groaned at Jess' loud scream, but you didn't move an inch, still lost in your beautiful dream. Billy noticed Jess and Trevor were both slamming their jaw together, he squeaked, "We didn't do anything, now shut it, she's still asleep."

Jess leaned closer to the bed, "Why not?! I noticed something sparking between you and definitely more than 'hating' each other." Jess shouted but in a whisper.

You snored, making Jess hide under the bed and pulling Trevor to hide with her, but you didn't wake up, just adjusted your position so you were comfortable.

Billy tap down on the side of the bed and slowly signaled to Jess and Trevor that it was safe, Jess and Trevor started to come back out and stand up as before.

"What did you mean by what you said earlier?" Billy asked Jess.

"Ask her out, dumbass. Don't argue, you like her, she likes you. Now go on a date so we can actually double-date." Jess said.

Trevor tossed the blanket that hiding Billy and yourself inside, “Good luck, man.”

As soon as Jess and Trevor were out, Billy smiled to himself like an idiot, you like him? Something he really couldn't have expected.

Not to mention that you are still clinging to him and don't want to let him go in your sleep, making him feel like he is your safest place, and he will continue to make sure that you are safe in his watch. Mark my words, he will definitely take you on a date. But what will your reaction be when you find out that you cling into him all the time? And share a bed with him? He couldn't wait to see and witness it.

Author Note : I'm sorry if there are some typos because I didn't have time to check it a few times since I was already feeling bad about being behind on this story for a week. I'm sorry, hope you like it! @patrickbatemanswife1987 (´✪ω✪`)♡

#spotify #fanfic #fanfiction #dacre montgomery #fluff #billy hargrove #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove imagine #billy x reader #x reader #dacre montgomery x yn #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x reader #billy x you #billy hargrove x you #stranger things #max mayfield #steve harrington #lucas sinclair

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echowithpain · 2 hours

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I just woke up so I'm still a little loopy and was scrolling through Tumblr and saw this post and it made me think of that time Maddie and Chim invited Buck and Josh to dinner at Chim's old apartment and Josh said if he didn't know any better, he'd think Maddie was setting them up. And honestly??? That actually would've been really fucking cute???

Can you imagine if Buck and Josh had started dating??? Buck going to the call center and using the excuse to see Maddie and take her to lunch only to "accidentally" run into his boyfriend and starting a happy flustered conversation with him before he has to go back to work. Oh my god I can actually see it so clearly:

Maddie’s typing away on her computer and glances up, looking over her monitor and seeing Buck in his civies walking through the door (cause he's all legs lol) and she stands up and goes over to him asking,

"Hey, what’s going on?"

And he's like "Nothing! I just thought I'd come by and treat you to some lunch." all while doing that thing he does with his hands and looking around the room trying to be casual about it.

And Maddie’s like, "Uh huh. So there's no other reason you could possibly think of that would bring you down here?"

And as Buck’s about to deny it then Josh walks over, having just finished a call and he sees him and is like, "Buck?"

And Buck perks up and turns to face him and is like, "Josh! Hey!"

And Josh is like, "Hey, good to see you. What are you doing here?"

And Buck starts explaining, "Oh, you know. I just came down here to see if... Maddie, wanted to grab some lunch with me. Y'know with the heatwave, people are probably going crazy out there." all while Maddie’s playfully rolling her eyes

And Josh of course finds this amusing and is playing along and starts telling him about a few calls they took, and Buck would be happily listening and nodding along and even giving a few comments here or there before Josh finally tells him, "Yeah, it's been a day. While it's finally slowed down, we're still a bit busy. But don't worry, I can cover for 'Maddie' until she gets back from her lunch break." While nodding at Maddie

And Buck would be like, "Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry, I should uh, let you get back to work."

And Josh would go, "Yeah, probably. See you later, Buck." and give him a wink while walking off and taking another call all while Buck's watching him go with his big puppy eyes

And then Maddie would put her hand on his shoulder, getting his attention, and be like, "Hey. I know you're just using me as an excuse so you can come down here and talk to Josh in person, but I just want you know... I'm holding you to treating me to lunch today."

And Buck would be like, "Yeah yeah, okay." and give a final look at Josh while Maddie’s laughing and getting her things and then they leave.

CAN YOU IMAGINE????? 🤩💖🤩💖🤩

Oh my god this started out as a sleepy ramble that turned into writing fanfiction and me actually getting upset over what could've been. Seriously think about it!

Buck and Josh are already good friends. If they started dating we could've gotten:

more Buckley siblings interactions

more scenes of the call center

more Josh, Linda, and Sue

Eddie and Josh "conflict/rivalry" (im still tired so idk the right word but I'm talking about when Eddie worked at dispatch and took over the call with the speed reference and Josh stepped up afterwards with the "You're a guest in this house" and how Eddie threw that line back at him when the place caught fire. Ever since, I like to think they have unserious beef, every now and then trying to one-up each other lol)

Buck constantly using Maddie as an excuse to visit the call center to see Josh until he's able to work up the courage to go up to him on Maddie’s day off and ask him out on a date (this could've been so fucking cute holy shit)

It could show a bi man and a gay man going out with each other and having fun and good chemistry, but ultimately deciding to break up and still remain good friends afterwards

HELL!!! YOU COULD EVEN HAVE JOSH BE THE ONE TO POINT OUT THAT BUCK IS IN LOVE WITH EDDIE AND HELP HIM REALIZE HE ACTUALLY HAS FEELSINGS FOR HIS BEST FRIEND AND HOW TO SORT THOSE FEELINGS OUT!!!

Honestly, fuck Tommy for leaving Buck on their first date. Josh would've understood Buck’s panic because he's been in Buck's shoes. Also knowing Buck and Eddie’s relationship, and how based on Buck’s reaction could piece together that he's not out to him yet, Josh could've played along and had a bit of banter with Eddie, and then reassure Buck that they would go at his pace, and NOT LEAVE HIM STANDING ALONE ON A STREET CORNER BECAUSE HE PANICKED WHEN HE SAW HIS BEST FRIEND WHILE OUT ON HIS FIRST DATE WITH A GUY!!!!

Damn, now I'm actually getting mad.

I've said before that I didn't like Tommy's character but accepted him as a way for the GA to get used to the idea of Buck being bi, but now I can't even say that anymore. Their scenes feel so awkward except for when they're making out, and they've only kissed twice, both kisses only to be establishing something. The first was to show the GA Buck was bi by having a guy kiss him and him liking it, and the second was to show the other characters he was bi by kissing a guy and getting soot on his mouth from it.

While I know they were gonna do the bi Buck storyline this season, I do think Tommy was shoehored in it. They originally said the person flying the helicopter to find the cruise ship was gonna be Lucy (miss her) but they couldn't get her actress because of scheduling conflicts or something, so they got Tommy and made him a pilot instead. I'm almost certain if they were able to get Lucy's character to fly the helicopter, Tommy wouldn't be here.

Josh actually would've been a great bi realization for Buck as well as a great first boyfriend. I've already listed reasons above but here's some more:

The GA already knows who Josh is and know that he's gay

He's an established character people already like

He's actually nice and funny but can be firm when he needs to be

He's really smart and is skilled at what he does (need I remind you of when Sue got hit by that car and he lead the police through a freaking maze with no helicopter support. bro's a badass!)

He's shown to be friends with the main cast (they all know and like him (except maybe Eddie lmao))

We already know part of his backstory (why he joined the call center and how he met Sue)

He can be vulnerable and cares about his friends

He's not above pulling pranks/getting pranked (when Linda and Maddie tried to make his schedule crazy cause he kept giving himself time off whenever there was a full moon, and he found out but let them think he didn't know until he tricked them into confessing)

Josh deserves to go on a date with a guy without getting beat up halfway through (still pissed about that storyline)

I could go on and on but I'd get even more upset and I've got shit to do today. So I'll leave you with this:

Fuck Tommy, Josh would've been a better choice

Oh, one more thing. For the people who are inevitably gonna bring up Carson or whoever it was and say Josh is dating him, we don't know for a fact if they're dating or not. Josh asked Sue if they do background checks for people working for them (again fuck that storyline) and when she said yes he went over to the ambulance and they have a small talk. We never see him again lmao. For all we know, they could've dated and broken up by now, or Josh could've asked him out and he kindly turns him down. We don't know cause we haven't seen him, and I'm not gonna argue with people who's main complaint is "What about that one guy Josh liked in season 5 that we haven't seen since that one episode?"

Shush and think about how cute Buck and Josh would be.

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love-hs28 · 1 day

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You can let it out, I'm right here

Having to stay after school for Chemistry help wasn't the most ideal situation to be in after having a bad day. And coming home to Peter being so nice makes it almost impossible to hold your emotions in. (This takes place in a universe where you and Peter are childhood best friends turned lovers. You've both lost your parents in the same accident and are currently both living with Aunt May and Uncle Ben. Not super important to the story, but still nice to know.)

CW: Reader has panic attack & cries a bunch Hurt/Comfort & Fluff Reader's gender isn't specified 1.3k Words Posted on 5-25-24

My third post, ahhhh!! I cannot thank you guys enough for the love I've seen so far on my first two posts. PLEASE lmk what else you'd like to see! I hope you enjoy this one!!

You had to stay after school one day to get some extra help with your chemistry homework. You didn’t struggle much in your classes, but for some reason, your chemistry class had been giving you absolute hell all semester. It never seemed like you could get the hang of it, and just when you were starting to think you were understanding what was going on, a new concept would be introduced and your progress would restart from the beginning. Peter usually helps you with any tough classwork because he always seems to know what the teacher is going to teach before class even starts, but this time your teacher insisted that you stay after so you could get some ‘real’ help, whatever that meant. You’re pretty sure that if she was actually able to teach you better than Peter could you would have already asked her for help, but whatever.

You come home and slam the front door as you walk in. May and Ben are still at work and Peter is in the shed working on something for his suit, as he typically is after a school day. You kick your shoes off and angrily walk upstairs. Your bedroom door slams shut as you carelessly toss your backpack on the floor, sitting on the edge of your bed with your face in your hands. You’d felt anxious all day and having to stay after for fucking chemistry and still not understanding it definitely wasn’t helping. You try to control your breathing and just forget about the day and focus on the plans you had with Peter later.

Out in the shed, Peter could sense that you were home, (he also heard the front door slam), which meant that he could also tell that you weren’t in the best state. He set aside his spidey stuff and made his way into the house and to your room.

You hear a gentle knock on the door and Peter hesitantly saying your name. “Y/n? You in there?”

You sigh and look up. “Yeah.”

He cracks the door open and peaks in. “Can I come in?”

You muster a smile, “Sure.”

He comes in and shuts the door behind him. He gives a warm smile and comes over to give you a kiss and plops down next to you.

“Hey bub. How was your day?” He absentmindedly rubs your knee with his hand. You know he already knows how your day went and is just trying to be nice.

You sigh, “Shit. How was yours?”

He frowns and tucks a hair behind your ear. “Mine was boring. Much better now though; why was it bad?”

You sigh and stand up and begin to pace. “Well, as you know, I had to stay after for chem help and I’m sure you can guess how that went. I literally cannot fucking understand it no matter how hard I try and it gets so annoying because I’m good in like every other subject but that and I just don’t understand why.” You run your hands over your face and Peter is looking at you, concerned but attentive. “Not to mention the subway ride home was horrible; I had to sit across from this creepy fucking pedo who wouldn’t stop starting at me and he fucking winked at me when I got up to leave,” Tears start prickling in your eyes and your breathing gets heavy and uneasy. Peter notices this and you see that he’s about to get up and come over to you. “And to make it all worse, I saw a stray dog on the way home and he was just limping and I think he hurt his paw or something and I wanted to go help him but I didn’t know if he was a nice dog or whatever so I didn’t want to risk it but he looked so sad and helpless and I felt so bad and now I wanna go back and find him and help him or take him somewhere or something because it’s not fair that he has to be all alone and scared especially when it's getting so cold and I also think I’m about to start my period so that doesn’t fucking help and I’m just-” You’re fully crying now, on the verge of sobbing, and Peter comes over and wraps his arms around you. You bring your hands up to his chest and sob into his shirt while he gently rubs your back.

He guides the two of you over to your bed and you sit down, your body turned into him and his arms still around you. “It’s okay, honey. Let it out, I got you.”

You sob and your breath is coming in short gasps. Peter softly kisses your head over and over again to try and calm you down.

“I’m s-sorry. I don’t know w-why I’m such a m-mess.” You grip his shirt as tears stream down your face. You can feel him shake his head and gently shush you.

“Shh, don’t apologize. It’s okay. You’re allowed to feel this way, I’m right here.”

You let out another sob because he’s being so nice and his hand that's not on your back comes up to brush your hair out of your face. As always, when the tears start to die down, the uneven breathing picks up. Peter knows this pattern by now, and rubs your back more firmly.

“Deep breaths, baby. Follow my breathing, okay?” He exaggeratedly takes deep breaths while maintaining eye contact and you try your best to match the rise and fall of his chest, focusing on his heartbeat under your ear.

When your breathing eventually slows down, you pull back a bit to sit more upright and rub your eyes, hiccuping. Peter gently puts a hand on the side of your face and tilts it so you’re looking at him. He has a sad but loving look in his eyes that almost makes you want to start crying again. He uses his thumb to gently wipe the remaining tears on your face and kisses your forehead.

You lean your head to rest on his chest and he rests his head on top of yours. You take a few more deep breaths before leaning up again to look at him. He kisses your forehead once more and softly smiles.

“Thank you,” you whisper, and wrap your arms around his neck for a hug. He holds you close to him as you breathe him in, the last step to really calming you down.

“Don’t thank me, Y/n/n. ‘s what I’m here for. I’m sorry your day was so shit, you don’t deserve that.”

You lightly shrug and lean back to softly kiss his lips. “You made it better, it’s okay.”

He smiles and tucks a hair behind your ear. “If you want, we can postpone our date tonight and just stay in and watch a movie. Whatever you want.”

You shake your head, “No, I think going out to do something will actually help. Get my mind off everything, y’know.”

He smiles and nods. “Good, because I’ve got something planned that you’re gonna loooveeee,” He says teasingly, and you laugh as he moves you both in a lying position.

“Oh really, what is it??” You rest your head on his chest and pull one of your legs up over his. He pulls the blanket over you two and takes your hand into his to play with his fingers.

“Nope, sorry bug, it’s a surprise.”

You giggle through your nose and snuggle into him. “Well, I’m very excited.”

He kisses your head once more and you lay there for a bit while he plays with your hair and rubs your back, and you’re finally at peace.

Hope you enjoyed! As always, please leave requests and such for me. Love you all <3

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winniemaywebber · 2 days

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Honeysuckle Rose • Part 4

part one part two part three

masterlist

mood board by @hephaestn

taglist: @ginabaker1666 @sagesolsticewrites @hephaestn @manonsmanicmind @derry-rain @bobparkhurst @bloodynereid

Her head leaning on her hand, her elbow on the table, Olive feels Valencia glance across at her. She has seen her eyes softening as James talks, unaware that her mouth is slightly agape. A sharp kick under the table snaps Olive out of her trance, Val shaking her head and smiling, those gorgeous red lips parting and showing her perfect teeth as she makes eye contact. “Breathe, Ollie,” she teases, as the boys engage in a conversation about something or another.

“Sorry,” Olive mumbles, awkwardly sipping her drink. “I'm not usually like this.”

“Maybe it's the booze?”

“Oh, probably. Yep, that's it. Not the most handsome man I've ever seen taking interest in me. Not that at all.”

“The most handsome, huh? Jesus, don't let him hear you say that.”

“Why not?” Olive giggles.

“He'll never fit his head through that door ever again. Not to mention us never hearing the end of it.”

“You girls wanna take a couple laps in the Jeep? Watch the sunrise?” Dougie asks, looking pointedly at Olive.

“We're all far too drunk to drive, Doug, and I ain't walking all that way,” he pauses for a moment, feeling Val's eyes focus on him. “Only walking my girl home.” The classic furrow softens immediately.

“That's what I thought, Everett. Good answer.”

“What do you say, Olive? Wanna take a walk with me?”

“Sure,” she replies, nervously. She glances over at Val, who nods towards her as Ev helps her with her jacket.

“Olive, see you tomorrow. Can you get here in time?”

“Oh, I'm sure I can,” a panic rising in her chest, hoping that somehow she was able to get back. Whether any time had passed between the two worlds, she had no idea and was terribly nervous to find out. Alas, she had to get home and check on Pearl, relieving Joan of her duties. But a few more moments with Dougie seemed so incredibly tempting that she felt herself taking his open hand and rushing out the door with him into the cold, morning air.

“You don’t have a jacket?” He asks as he sees her shiver the second the warm club is behind them.

“Didn't plan on staying this long, actually.”

He laughs a little, pulling off his own jacket. “Here,” he says, wrapping it around her shoulders. He pulls the sleeve up as she puts her arm in, her brow furrowed in confusion.

“What are you doing?”

“Wanna hold your hand.”

His hand slips into hers and they begin to head towards the hardstand. Olive, pontificating how to make a quick exit without seeming rude, is distracted from her thoughts by an orange ember coming towards her face. Holding a lit cigarette in front of her, she knows he expects her to take it in between her own fingers. Instead, she drags on it from where he holds it, not once breaking eye contact and his mouth drops open.

“So, uh,” he clears his throat, moving the cigarette back to his own mouth as soon as she has blown smoke from her lips. “Where did you grow up?”

“Here,” she smiles. “I just moved back from London.”

“London? Wow, why?”

“Oh, errm,” she stutters, trying to formulate a story that has little substance but is not a lie. “I, uh…lots of things. I had a few things not work out. My grandma took a fall just over a year ago and she needs a carer. I decided to come home and take over.”

“That's real nice of you, Ol. I'm sure she's grateful.”

“I'm sure, too. She'll never say it, she's a grumpy old girl. But, I love her. She's my pal. Taught me how to be tough and I'm thankful for that.”

“Tough, huh?”

“Mhm,” she nods, realizing they are almost at the aircraft she fell from this afternoon. “What about you?”

“Lansing, Michigan. You probably haven't–”

“Never heard of it,” they overlap, Olive giggling and instantly going to cover her mouth with her free hand.

“Hey, no. You gotta stop that.”

“Why, Dougie?”

“Because you have a pretty smile. And you shouldn't hide it, especially when it's me making you do the smiling, huh?”

A moment of silence passes between them as they reach the wing of Just A-Snappin, coming to a stop. His hand on her cheek, hers on his back. “Tell me more about Michigan,” she murmurs, their noses almost touching.

“It's real pretty,” he replies, his hand going from her cheek to her hair to move a strand that's blown in her face. “Real pretty in the fall especially.” He sighs, his thumb gently stroking her mouth. “I'll take you one day.”

“I'd love that,” she replies, moving closer. Just as their lips are about to meet, a loud, shrill horn noise is heard over the tannoy, followed by a thick accent.

“James Douglass,” it commands. “Put that girl down and get to bed!”

“Dammit, Red,” he mumbles, turning away for a second and squinting up at the tower. “I swear he has eyes in his ass, that guy.”

“Is this goodnight?” she asks, handing the jacket back.

“It is. I'm sorry. I wanted to walk ya home but–”

“Look,” she says, kissing him gently on the cheek. “The sun is rising.”

For a moment, he holds her close to him before breaking away, kissing her softly on the cheek, too.

“Goodnight, Olive,” he says, beginning to walk backwards towards his destination.

“Goodnight, Dougie.”

The second his back is turned, Olive begins to run in a full sprint towards the Red Cross Hut to retrieve her clothes. To her relief, Helen is snoring softly in the soft light of the sunrise, Val nowhere to be found. Assuming she's still with Ev somewhere around, she delicately places the dress upon her bunk, pushing out any wrinkles and creases with her hands. Pulling her shirt, overalls and boots back on, stuffing the headscarf in her top pocket, she makes a hasty exit, extremely careful to not disturb Helen. She sighs softly and turns over, causing Olive to freeze as she tiptoes towards the door. Luckily, she remains asleep, the rapid movement not waking her once.

Returning to the plane and making sure there are no eyes on her, Olive runs around to the hatch she stumbled out of earlier. Seeing it left open, she hesitates, trying to reason with herself to stay. Thoughts of how devastated Pearl would be creep into her mind, cementing the decision. With a sigh, she climbs in, somehow finding long forgotten core strength. She reaches down and shuts the door with a slam, waiting a few moments. Closing her eyes, she waits, the blazing afternoon sun coming through the windows causing her body to overheat instantly.

Sadness crawling all over her, she kicks the hatch open again, her body suddenly heavy. Jumping out much more gracefully this time, she lands heavily in her boots, the scene around her seemingly unchanged. The group of girls she had originally been with were back in their usual spot, Olive now traipsing over to them casually, trying not to be seen. Heather greets her with a smile, her absence apparently unnoticed.

“Taking a look at the plane?” She asks before the final crowd of school kids of the day make their way around the circuit.

“Something like that,” she titters, grabbing a rake. “What time is it?”

Heather raises an eyebrow as she looks at her watch, trying to gauge the time as the warm sun reflects the watch face. “Errrm, it's two pm.”

“Oh!” Olive says, surprised. Seemingly no time had passed at all.

—

“Hiya, Pearly Girly,” she greets, walking into the house. Kicking her boots off by the door, Olive begins to walk into the kitchen, reaching into the beige fridge to quickly gulp milk straight from the glass bottle that was delivered this morning.

“Hey, you,” Pearl greets, hobbling in with her stick. “Get a glass, for goodness sake!”

“I only wanted a gulp,” Olive laughs, now seeing that she'd somehow chugged half the bottle.

“Some things never change, do they? You've been doing that since you were wee.”

“Old habits die hard, Grandma. Where's Joan? Am I late?”

“No, doll,” Pearl says, shaking her head. “She's out in the garden. Funeral director called.”

“Ah, shit,” Olive replies, peeking out of the window that's shrouded by a worn net curtain. She sees Joan pacing up and down the garden path, arms crossed and face growing more furrowed each second. “I'll make her a cuppa. You want one too?”

“If there's any bloody milk left,” she teases, leaving the kitchen. Olive titters and shakes her head as her back turns, clicking the kettle on.

—

Pearl and Olive sit opposite one another, sipping from their mugs despite the boiling hot weather outside.

“So, good first day? How did you like it?”

“Oh, I loved it,” Olive replies, a huge smile on her face. “I met some really nice people. Red Cross girls, took me under their wing and–” Olive pauses, realizing what she has said, seeing Pearl’s confused face. It settles in an instant, the ringing in Olive's ears subsiding as she sees her face return to normal.

“I used to love their jumpsuits. The headscarves they'd wear through the day while their hair was setting for a night at the club. I was always envious. There I was, sweating, beetroot red with a rake and overalls, while they were there looking all glamorous, handing out coffee and donuts to these handsome men. I would've traded places in an instant.”

Olive giggles. “I don't blame you, Pearly. I bet they were all beautiful.”

“They were,” she says, wistfully. “There was one man that caught my eye right before we moved. I never got his name, nor did we ever speak but you bet your bottom I was sat watching his every move whenever I could. He always had this dog with him–”

Olive, taking a sip of tea, inhales at the wrong moment and chokes as she hears Pearl’s words. “Jesus, Olive,” she laughs, trying her best to throw a napkin her way. “Wrong pipe?”

“Oh, yeah,” she replies, coughing a few more times. “Something like that.” It couldn't be the same dog, the same man. Surely not? Shaking her head through the shock, Olive trying to make sense of everything that's happened in the past few hours, Joan enters the room looking a little less stressed than the last times Olive has seen her.

“Hi, Olive,” she smiles.

“Joan,” she greets. “How are you?”

“Oh, better now I've got that sorted. Funeral home wanted to go through the order of service, and wanted to know how long my grandson's speech was going to be. You know our Kyle can talk.” Joan looks at Olive, her lips pursed slightly. “You remember Kyle, Olive?”

“Oh, er, yeah. I sure do.” How could she forget? Seeing him on the train while on her way home had brought up so much disdain that she'd felt nauseous for hours afterwards. Kyle, the first and only guy she'd let break her heart, and she'd let him do it because he somehow broke through all the toughness Pearl had taught her - and used it to his advantage.

“I do wish you two had worked out–”

“I wish he'd have been able to control himself and not sleep with my best friend.”

“Olive!” Pearl scolds. Standing up, Olive announces her leave.

“I need to shower. Nice to see you, as always, Joan. See you tomorrow.”

—

Olive sits on her bed, wrapped in a towel and tries to breathe slowly. Laying down on the bed, her wet hair soaking into the pillow case, she closes her eyes and begins to try and ‘center herself,’ an exercise she'd been taught in Movement Class at drama school. Feeling her lungs inflate and holding her breath for just a moment, Olive hears a small knock on her door.

“Ollie Pop?” Pearl calls, her voice etched with concern. “You alright?”

Breathing out slowly, Olive sits up. “Come in, Grandma.” As she does so, she puffs heavily and sits on the bed beside her.

“I like our Joan, but her grandson is a twat.”

“Granny!” Olive shrieks.

“What? You know if I curse, it's serious. He is. A stupid one at that.”

“Yeah,” she replies, sighing. “Besides,” she pauses, the panic attack pushed aside. “I'm a tough girl. Just like my Grandma.”

—

Laying in the softly lit room as the sun rises, Olive tries her best to read by the glowing lamplight emanating from her bedside table. The words scattering on the page, blurring into one another, she snaps it shut and sits up quickly as her alarm clock beeps, not wasting a single moment. Despite a night of minimal sleep, Olive gets ready in a flash, trying her best to remain as quiet as possible to not disturb Pearl who she can hear snoring from her room. Opening the door with a small creak, Olive smiles sweetly as her beloved Grandma sleeps peacefully, pictures of her husband on display on the table directly next to the bed. Closing the door quietly, Olive goes to the kitchen and boils the kettle for her morning green tea, waiting for Joan to come take over. Despite Olive figuring out that only a little time passes between worlds, she does not want to risk Pearl ever being left alone. Sipping at the hot liquid, she watches the sunrise through the garden window. Closing her eyes and breathing deeply, her mind goes back to the previous sunrise she saw, under the wing of a plane with Dougie.

Finishing her tea, Olive quickly runs back to her room to collect her dog-eared copies of A Midsummer Night's Dream and The Tempest, hoping to find time for some light reading throughout the day. Joan arrives soon after, instantly apologizing for yesterday as she walks through the door, eyes wide with anxiety.

“Joan,” Olive says, waving her apology away. “Not you that should be apologizing really. You're fine. It's fine and we're fine.”

“Phew, good. Our Pearl awake yet?” Olive shakes her head.

“Not yet. She seemed to fall asleep pretty quickly last night, too.”

“She's a lot more relaxed now you're here, Ol. She knows you're safe and I think that pleases her.”

“I'm glad to be here,” she pauses, smiling awkwardly. “Right, off to work!”

“Do you need something for lunch?”

“No, thanks,” she smiles, quickly adjusting her headscarf. “I'll grab a donut.”

—

Practically skipping to the airplane, she takes a quick look around to make sure nobody has eyes on her. Only a few early morning museum visitors are around, going into the building itself, trying to keep out of the cool morning air. Satisfied that nobody can see her, she clambers into the plane, body flopping into the aircraft like a hard loaf of bread.

“I gotta get better at this,” she murmurs to herself, wincing as her core tightens. Leaning down, she slams the door shut and waits. A dog barks in the distance, her eyes clamped shut in fervent hope. She opens her eyes and gently fiddles with the door, her head sticking out slightly. Waiting on the ground is Meatball, tail wagging the second he sees Olive.

“Hi, buddy,” Olive squeaks when she lands on the floor, a lot more graceful than yesterday's breathtaking bump. “Good morning!” Taking him by the leash, she retrieves her bag and begins to walk to the Clubmobile.

“Hey!” She hears as her back is turned. “Who said you could take my dog?” There's Benny, a playful smile on his face that Olive instantly reciprocates.

“He did, actually. Waiting right there to greet me.”

He laughs, leaning down to stroke the dog. “He just was excited to see his new best friend.”

“And so was I,” she replies, handing the leash to him. “I'd better run. Can't be late for my first day!”

—

“Aaah! You're here!” Val squeals, squeezing Olive into a quick embrace. “Come on,” she says, taking her by the hand and leading her to the hut. “Tat got a uniform for you, Lord knows where from but I gave her my measurements and what do you know, there was one spare, exactly your–our size.”

Hanging on the small locker next to a bunk, is a blue jumpsuit, emblazoned with the American Red Cross logo on one pocket.

“Here's your space,” Val says, gesturing towards the locker. “We have our own showers so we keep most of our stuff in there, toiletries, make up, what have you. We usually use this for trinkets, but decorate how you see fit, doll.”

Placing her satchel on the bed, Olive removes her clothes and slips into the jumpsuit, it fitting her like a glove. She stuffs The Tempest into one of the huge pockets while Val takes in her new look.

“Oh!” Val gasps, hands on her cheeks. “Don't you look adorable! Wait til Dougie sees you!” Rolling her eyes, Olive looks in the mirror one final time before heading to the door of the hut, Val close behind.

“Helen is already there,” she says, linking her arm with Olive's. “We'd better get there before she's rushed off her feet! Most of the boys are on the ground today, but they'll still be wanting coffee and donuts from us.”

“Makes sense,” Olive responds, waving to Tattie as she zooms past in her Jeep. She waves back, a smile on her face, the wind of the cool morning blowing through her perfectly styled hair.

“Tattie gets a Jeep?” Olive enquires, hoping there's no tone of malice within her question.

“Oh, yeah,” Val says, nodding. “She's the head honcho. She's General Spaatz's daughter, after all.”

“I dunno who that is, Val. Enlighten me.”

“In simple terms? Commander of the Eighth. That's all I know, to be honest. Don't make me go further than that, because I simply couldn't tell you.” She grins, flashing those beautiful teeth. “I'm so glad you came.”

“Me, too.”

—

“Olive! You're here!” Helen shouts through the hatch of the Clubmobile. Climbing down the stairs, she greets her new friend with a hug. Not used to this much affection all at once, Olive basks in it, feeling her face glow.

“Morning, Helen. Thanks for fixing up the bed.”

“You're so welcome, Ol. Nobody will be itching in our house! Not on my watch.”

“You'd think that should be the nurse's job, but here we are.” Val says, her tone scathing as she leans on the counter, flicking through a new copy of Screen Romances, Laraine Day and Robert Young upon the cover, cheeks pressed together.

“Oh, I love Screen Romances,” Olive pipes up as Val reads through, that famous furrow brought out in concentration. “The gossip columns are savage.”

“Oh, they so are,” Val responds, looking up, her eyes rolling slightly. “I live for it. I love the cattiness, the scathing remarks. Ugh, wonderful. I'll let you know if anything juicy comes up,” she says, nodding towards the hatch. “Someone's here to see you.”

“Donut from the prettiest girl in East Anglia, please.”

“Hey, Dougie,” she blushes, leaning out of the truck slightly.

“Look at you,” he says, biting his lip a little. “Blue really is your color.”

“Oh, stop,” she replies, cheeks glowing even redder. “You're just angling for an extra donut.”

“Maybe,” he says, leaning up to meet her in the hatch. “And a kiss.”

“Well, handsome, I can only give you one of those things right now,” she says, a donut in hand. “Meatball hair free, too. Must be your lucky day.”

“It sure is. Can I get a coffee too? Just cream.”

“Coming right up. No sugar?”

“Not when you're around. I'm sweet enough on you.”

“Are you trying to make me keel over?” She scolds, pouring the coffee into the cup. Brow furrowed, she hands him the cup, followed by a quick smile.

“Jeez, too much time with Valencia already. You've got that furrow perfected.”

“Maybe it was always within her, James,” she shouts, head still buried in the magazine. “Little help from me, and you being insufferable brings the best furrows out in people.” Olive shakes her head, giggling at the banter between the two.

“Will you be at the club later?” Dougie asks, sipping the coffee.

“I assume so,” Olive shrugs. “Why?”

“Oh, no reason,” he teases, winking as he walks away.

“She's right,” Olive shouts from the Clubmobile. “You are insufferable.”

—

Both Dougie and Benny turn the second Olive enters the club, linked arm in arm with Val and Helen who stand either side of her. She meets the eyes of either man in turn, feeling her cheeks glow with that familiar heat the second she makes eye contact with Dougie.

“I saw that,” Helen teases as they sit down, the same table as the previous evening. “You smiled when you saw Benny…”

“Helen–” Olive cuts her off, her cheeks now red with embarrassment instead of the previous limerence.

“But I saw that twinkle in your eye when Dougie looked at you.”

Val nods enthusiastically, lighting a cigarette before offering one to her companions. Her attention on them is taken away the moment Everett walks up to the table, her eyes glowing as he greets her with a kiss on the cheek.

Olive feels a presence behind her, before a glass - an Old Fashioned - is put at her place on the table. She turns to see Dougie, standing behind her chair with a whiskey in his hand.

“Thanks,” she says, demurely, hoping that the blushing is now at bay.

“You owe me a dance later,” he says, winking as he walks back to the bar before she can even muster an answer.

“Does he always do that?” she asks, turning to Val and Ev. “Ask a question then piss off to the other end of the room?” The couple and Helen burst out laughing at her tone, still not quite used to Olive's dry British humor. Not able to contain her own laughter due to theirs, she tries to pull herself together to reiterate the question. Ev is the first to compose himself, Val dabbing at his eyes with her handkerchief as he gasps for air a final time.

“Nah, not always,” he finally says, looking for his friend at the bar. “He's just nervous, I think.”

—

Feeling a wet nose at her bare ankle, Olive squeals and finds Meatball under the table.

“Aaah, hi buddy!” she says, placing her drink on the table and beginning to pet him. “Were you good today? We missed you!”

“Speak for yourself,” Val mumbles under her breath as she reapplies her lipstick , only loud enough for Olive to hear, causing her to shoot her a glance and giggle. Making sure Benny didn't hear, she smiles up at him.

“Hi, Benny. How was your day?”

“Better now for seeing you. Let me get this fella squared away. D'you wanna dance?”

“Love to,” she grins, placing her jacket on her chair. Val winks at her as she exits, clutching Benny's arm as he gives the dog to Buck and a few men around him before leading her to the dancefloor.

“I'm warning you, Benny,” she begins as they begin to sway together. “I'm not much of a dancer. I hope you enjoyed having toes.”

“I'm just as bad, don't worry. Just wanted a moment alone with you.”

“That's sweet,” she replies, smiling as she places a hand on his shoulder.

“So, how was your first day?”

“Oh, it was wonderful, thanks.” And she means it. It's the most fulfilled she's felt in years, these new people welcoming her and taking her under their wing. Everything that went wrong in London feels like a million light-years away; and being here, maybe it is. Benny narrows his eyes at her answer, trying to gauge any hint of sarcasm he may have missed. She shoves him playfully as they dance, giggling a little. “I'm being serious, Benny. It's exactly what I need.”

“If you say so,” he replies, smiling as he spins her away from him. With that spin, she crashes into none other than James Douglass, who automatically takes her in his arms.

“Dog needs taking out, Benny,” he teases, gripping Olive's hand. He quickly spins her to a new spot on the dancefloor and grins. “Told ya, you owed me a dance.”

“I didn't hear you asking, James,” she teases, feeling her cheeks flush as his hand lands on the small of her back. “It was more of a statement.”

“Right, right,” he says, breaking away. “Will you dance with me?”

“Yes, I will. But you'd better apologize to Demarco when he gets back.”

“Oh, I'm not sorry for anything, doll.” She tuts at him, letting him lead her nonetheless. Him touching her feels like lighting coursing through her veins, feeling her hair stand up on end. He moves closer as the band slows, their noses almost beginning to touch as they move in unison to the swelling music. Her inhale becoming his exhale, she moves and plants a soft kiss on his neck. She feels him gasp into her ear and it's enough to make her weak at the knees. Looking over his shoulder, she sees a light begin to flash red above the door.

“Hey,” she murmurs, gesturing towards the light with a movement of her head. “Does that mean something?” He turns and looks, his eyes suddenly downcast as he sighs.

“Ah, shit. Yeah.”

“I'll walk ya home,” Benny pipes up, suddenly behind them.

“Nah, I got it, Benny,” James replies, taking his grip off Olive.

“No,” Benny says, a little sternly. “I'll do it. Olive, you ready?”

“It's fine, I can–” she tries to say, but is once again cut off by incessant squabbling, the two men fighting like catty school children. Looking towards Val for help, Olive sees Everett talking to a man with big brown eyes, hair slicked back into a soft pomp, his body seemingly racked with anxiety. Everett and Val gently push him in Olive's direction, him ushering her away unnoticed.

“Thanks,” she sighs, staring into the pretty cow eyes of the man that rescued her.

“No problem. Harry Crosby,” he says, gesturing to himself, a hand on his chest as he introduces himself.

“Hey, Harry. Olive.” He stretches a hand out and she shakes it.

“I heard the commotion. I'm heading back to write to my wife. She would never let me live it down if I wasn't a gentleman to others. I'll walk ya home, Olive.”

“Oh, Harry. That's so kind. Thank you.”

As he holds the door open for her, she hears the arguing come to a sudden stop followed by a surprised “Crosby?!” and Val storming up to them. “Stupid boys,” is all she hears as she exits the club with Harry, her arm linked platonically with his.

#masters of the air #mota #masters of the air fic #mota fic #Honeysuckle Rose #Olive Lewis #masters of the air x oc #benny demarco #James Douglass #everett blakely #oc: olive lewis #oc: valencia dirosano #just a snappin #time travel #1940s #ww2 #wwii #winnie writes

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